Disclaimer: The world & Characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and not to me.

Rating: PG-13 for some violence (and some cursing)
Description: Action-Adventure/Drama/Mystery
Blood & Dust
Chapter 2 Of Tea and Nauseating Sweets

Part 1: Cauldron Cake in the wrong hands can be frightening...

He trudged slowly up the stairs, feeling for all the world as if he were heading toward his own execution. It was ridiculous to feel such trepidation; he had only been invited to tea after all. Tea, the very word instilled dread. To be called up to speak with the Headmaster was one thing, but it was altogether another to be invited to tea. He pressed his lips together and could not help but think there was an underlying reason the Headmaster wanted to speak with him. Perhaps it was his distrustful nature or perhaps it was that he knew the man so well. He frowned, the old wizard always did seem to try and soften world shattering revelations with tea and candy. His frown deepened and his steps slowed to a crawl. Snape wondered what horrid bit of information the older wizard would try and cushion with small talk. Tea indeed he thought angrily, remembering the last time he had been invited to 'tea'. Bad news always accompanied the Headmaster's tea, and when he tried to force sweets down your throat you knew the news would be worse. It was usually something that would upset or inconvenience him in some way, but a few times the news had been shocking. Those were the times he used candy.

It had barely been a week since their last 'appointment' so he doubted he wanted to speak to him about his Death Eater duties. He paused, unless he has discovered something about Mar or the dragon brigade. With no better name available, Snape had begun to mockingly refer to the strange group of wizards as 'the dragon brigade'. Dumbledore had seemed to take to the name quickly, using it whenever he referred to them, so it stuck. He sighed, deciding he should have thought before mentioning it to the Headmaster, after all what was he to expect from a man who belonged to The Order of the Phoenix? Now he was forced to use the stupid title when discussing them, and could not even blame it on someone else. He shook his head, no he would have called me up to his office, but would not have made an appointment. Unless the news about them was disturbing, he scowled, his thoughts dark.

No, he decided, it would be nothing so pleasant. The old man had some bit of news he knew Snape would find annoying or bothersome. He would depart it to him in his usual sickeningly cheerful manner.

Moving his legs again, he continued up. It was always harder to climb up stairs then it was to descend them. He wondered briefly if there was a metaphor to be found in that thought, knowing the answer he continued. He recalled several events which had invited him to tea in the past. The news of Remus Lupin's Professor status. The day he had been forced to accompany Black to the Ministry, he scowled angrily, and speak on his behalf. Why Dumbledore had sent him, was still a mystery. As if the word of an ex-Death Eater was better than the word of an escaped convict. That had nearly ended in disaster. If there had been a Dementor around he was sure both he and Black would now be much lighter in the soul department. He trusted Dumbledore, but that had been one of the times he was sure the old man had finally lost it.

There were also the darker times. The times the news had been grave. Draco Malfoy's death at the hands of his father had been one. They said it couldn't be proven, but he knew, there was no doubt in his mind. There had been a panic, at around the same time Potter had disappeared. The insufferable boy had been missing for three days, and had had the audacity to claim no memory of where or what he had been doing during those days. That entire fiasco had cost him three invitations for tea in the Headmaster's office. Once for Potter's disappearance, another when they had found Draco and the last when Potter had turned up miraculously unscathed. He had to admit he had wondered about whether or not Potter had been involved in Draco's death, the boy had been missing at exactly the right time. But after hearing Lucius confess to the murder of his wife and son, he had been horrified to feel relief. Potter was still the world's savior, he had not gone rogue.

He was nearly to the top now. He scowled faintly, trying to discern what the news could possibly be. If he was lucky it would be something inane the Headmaster thought would bother him, like being forced to share his office. Well that would be disturbing, but not life altering. Not world shattering in any case. He tried to be optimistic, it might be something trivial. He tried to think of something trivial the older wizard would invite him to tea over. Well Hart had yet to resign, so it could not be about the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Classes were not scheduled to begin for another month, so he doubted Dumbledore would give him the speech about trying not to frighten the piss out of the first years yet. He had already finished his lesson plans for the next term, so he would not be asking about that. He sighed, his hand on the door, well he would know soon enough.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, a smile playing on his face. "Ah Severus, come in. Sit down." He may be smiling Snape thought, but his voice sounds strained. Something has happened, something that has him extremely upset.

He sat in his usual seat, "You wanted to see me Headmaster?"

The older wizard smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, "Tea?" his reply was a grunt. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but poured the tea anyway. Sitting back down he lifted a small silver tray and held it out. Snape stared in horror at what he saw. "Cauldron cake?" No, oh no. He blanched, shaking his head. Not just candy, cake! Someone's died! I've been sacked. The Ministry wants me jailed. Voldemort knows I'm a spy. I'm to spend the year with Black! The Headmaster did not seem to notice his rising panic. He placed the tray back on his desk and folded his hands. "I dare say I think it may rain." The lunacy of the statement pulled him back to his senses. He scowled, as if I go outside. He watched the older man, his eyes narrowed.

"Summer Holiday going well?" He blinked, Oh yes, the club I belong to has kept me rather busy, his mental reply was automatic. Staring at the Headmaster he groaned inwardly. Something must be wrong, he was launching into mindless small talk. When he did not answer Dumbledore nodded as if he had, "I presume you've finished your lesson plans for next term?" I can see them on your desk, he thought becoming irritated. He narrowed his eyes even more. The older wizard fiddled with some papers on his desk, "Ah yes, this coming term we are going to have an addition to the staff." That's all? Snape frowned, unless it's Voldemort I don't see why he's so upset. "Yes, I have decided to bring in an assistant for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Snape stared at him, "An assistant?" his frown deepened to a scowl. If Hart was so incompetent that he needed an assistant then why had he not simply been sacked?

"Yes," the Headmaster smiled, "I thought it best." Reaching into a small candy dish he popped a lemon drop into his mouth. His hand moved to lift the dish, but Snape waved him off before he had the chance to offer.

Candy now too, he thought suddenly. A sick feeling settled into his stomach, "Who is it?" Not Black, he prayed silently.

A sadness entered his eyes, but was gone so quickly Snape was unsure if he had even seen it. Dumbledore smiled, "Starting this September, Mr. Harry Potter will be joining us once again at Hogwarts."

Part 2: It all comes back to that annoying boy...

Potter, he thought angrily, another year with Potter. The Potions Master stormed down the stairs. He was angry, yes, annoyed definitely, but the news should not have warranted Cauldron Cakes! The old man is losing his touch, surely he doesn't think I would be so childish that he would need to coddle me. Tea and cake, he snorted, he could have saved himself the trouble and simply announced it at breakfast.

It had been three years since Potter had attended Hogwarts, and about as long since Snape had seen him. The last time Potter had been to Hogwarts had been directly after his year had graduated. Not a week had passed before the horrid boy had come storming back to the school. Snape had thought himself rid of him, and yet there he had been, assaulting the Headmaster's gargoyle. He could remember wondering if the brat was going to make a habit of pestering Dumbledore for the rest of his miserable life. Snape had just finished a rather complex healing potion and had been on his way to deliver the news to Madam Pomfrey, when he had heard the echoing crash of the main doors smashing loudly against the walls of the castle. Irritated by the person's carelessness, he had moved to intercept the offender. The boy had a broomstick clutched in one hand and a large white envelope in the other. Following the boy up two flights of stairs, he had observed his rigid back and the way he seemed to throw himself forward as he climbed. His steps had been angry and his knuckles white where he gripped the broom.

He had realized they were heading toward the Headmaster's office as soon as the idiot boy had turned down the empty corridor leading to the gargoyle. Stomping up to the stone guardian, Snape had expected him to begin rattling off the names of different sweets, but the boy had surprised him. Rapping the gargoyle with his broom, he had looked up and yelled, "Dumbledore! let me in now!" Hitting it a few more times, he had kicked it for good measure. When it did not move aside he growled in exasperation, and flung his broom away from him. It bounced off the far wall and hit the ground with a smack. "I have a letter I want you to read!"

Snape had felt outright rage at the way the fool was yelling at the Headmaster. "Mr. Potter!" he spun around at the sound of his voice, his eyes wild and his body shaking slightly. The look on his face had surprised him, but he had continued, "You may not be attending this school any longer, but that does not mean you can verbally abuse the Headmaster!"

The boy had gone from rage to panic in a matter of seconds. His hand holding the letter shook, and he was forced to place his other against the wall to steady himself. Snape frowned, he had never been able to terrify him quite this well at school, so what had been so different this time? He still did not know, but he was positive it had something to do with why he had been so angry with the Headmaster. He thought back to how tightly the boy had gripped the letter, and wished he could have read it. There was definitely something interesting in that letter.

Staring at the insolent boy he had been about to demand why he was so frightened, but his demeanor had changed completely. His eyes had narrowed and his lip had curled into a perfect imitation of Snape's own sneer, "This is between the Headmaster and myself." He had been about to put the brat in his place when the gargoyle chose that moment to slide aside. Spinning back around, Potter had nearly flown up the curved staircase, the white envelope held securely in his fist.

That had been the last time Snape had seen the boy at Hogwarts. However, it had been three weeks later, at Draco Malfoy's funeral that the Potions Professor had seen the Potter brat last. That had been an odd experience to say the least.

Standing beside the Headmaster, Snape watched the small procession of mourners bid their final farewells to the young blond. It was warm outside and the sun had shown exceedingly bright. It was almost mocking, funerals were supposed to be dark and dreary, not bright and sunny. Blinking in the annoying sunshine, he had turned away from the casket, only to find himself staring directly at Harry Potter. The boy was standing off to the side, away from the rest of the mourners. He was near the tree line, and quite alone. It seemed only one of the three musketeers had decided to come. He was surprised to see the boy there at all, he and Draco had never been friends, in fact they had hated each other through their entire school career. Perhaps Potter had come simply to bid farewell to another victim of Voldemort's tyranny.

Snape watched him, wondering if he would approach the coffin or simply opt to stay in the background. He stood scanning the mourners, his eyes falling on the casket. He ran his gaze over it, and then to Severus' utter shock and horror, he smirked. The little bastard smirked. A boy was dead and he found it amusing. A dark rage clouded his vision, he had known Potter was selfish, self-centered and arrogant, but this was beyond even that. This was a funeral, the least he could have done was stay home like Weasley and Granger. Green eyes met black and his expression faltered, it became the perfect image of solemn revere. Potter glanced to the side nervously, breaking his gaze first. His face was turned to the side, and his lips were moving slightly. Snape frowned, his eyes narrowed, it almost looked as if the boy was speaking to someone. His head turned back toward him suddenly, his arm twitched at his side, as if he fought to hold it still.

What are you playing at, Snape wondered silently. A determined look crossed the brat's face, and he began to make his way toward the grave. By this time the coffin had been lowered into the ground and carefully buried, a large pile of roses covering the grave. Most of the mourners had wandered away, leaving now that the service had ended. Potter walked carefully to the gravestone, his mouth moving. He looked at the headstone, and then frowned at the flowers. Pointing idiotically toward the pile of abandoned roses he turned back to the headstone. The boy seemed crazed, he was having a conversation with the grave marker. He gestured back toward the trees, and then turned to leave. His eyes caught sight of him once again and he froze. Blinking, his expression changed to resemble a terrified first year as he spun back toward the gravestone. He stood staring at it for a moment, and then after flinging his arms out wide, he stalked back toward the trees. Arms crossed over his chest he looked like a petulant child, pouting and throwing comments at no one from the side of his mouth.

Even now, several years later, Snape was unsure of what had been going through the odd boy's mind. He hoped Dumbledore knew what he was doing, bringing Potter back to Hogwarts. Then it hit him. He scowled, realizing the Headmaster probably had another reason for bringing the boy back other than needing an assistant for the Defense Professor. Of course Hart did not need help teaching his class, it was merely an excuse to bring Potter back. He felt like heading back to the gargoyle, marching back up the stairs and demanding to know the real reason Potter was returning. Snape glared at the floor, his eye twitching, he offered me cake as a distraction. He knew I would be waiting for some terrible news and when it was something so silly I was too relieved to think properly. Snape stalked his way through the halls, a dark expression clouding his features. The Headmaster really was the most devious man alive.

Finding his way to his office, he threw himself into his chair and scowled at the empty desk before him. If classes had started he would at least have had work to take his mind off his conversation with the Headmaster. He folded his hands, deciding to tackle the problem at hand. Dumbledore was bringing Potter back to Hogwarts, and he was going to discover why. The blasted boy had probably gotten himself into some sort of trouble and needed the Headmaster to fix it. Snorting, Snape decided that this was the most likely reason, and this caused him to scowl once again. What problems was he going to bring back to the school this time? The Potions Professor frowned, attempting to come up with an answer, but was at a loss. To figure out what trouble he had gotten into, he would first have to have an idea of what Potter had been doing. He thought back, but could not remember having heard any news of the boy until now. Eyes narrowed, he tried to think of even one person mentioning what Potter had decided to do after graduation. Potter had been gone for three years, and not once had Dumbledore mentioned him. Snape found this rather odd. Surely the famous Harry Potter would have wanted to stay in the public eye? But there had not been any real news of him, no mention of what career he had followed or even any connection between him and the fight with Voldemort. Which lead to the question, just what had Harry Potter been doing for the last three years?

Snape frowned, had he been in hiding? He definitely had not been playing Quidditch, even Severus would have heard about Potter becoming the next Seeker for whatever pathetic team begged him to play for them. As far as Snape knew, he had not been fighting the Dark Lord, so what did that leave? An Auror? Some idiot position in the Ministry like his friends Weasley and Granger? He might have guessed dead if not for the fact that Dumbledore said he would be joining them for the school year. Another odd thought struck him at that moment, when was the last time the Dark Lord had mentioned Potter? He thought furiously and could not remember. Harry Potter, Voldemort's one true obsession, seemed to have stopped interesting the Dark Lord.

Snape would have snarled in exasperation if he had thought it would help, but he settled on cursing the Headmaster instead. The old man had to know what the boy had been doing all this time, and he was positive his activities had everything to do with why he was returning to Hogwarts. Perhaps if I ask, he thought, and then dismissed the idea. The old wizard would just find a way of answering him without really telling him anything. He sneered,maybe I should invite him to tea. No, he decided,he'd probably just enjoy himself. He sighed, I'll just have to wait and find out from Potter then.

Part 3: Ambition is a poor excuse for not having enough sense to be lazy.

Ron Weasley sat back and rubbed his eyes for the third time that day. The paper work was getting to be annoying. He frowned at a particularly long report on the activities going on, in and around Knockturn Alley. As if they didn't already know the place was a dark wizard club house. He snorted, pushing it aside in favor of a shorter report marked 'confidential'. Tapping the seal with his wand he watched it unfurl to reveal scratchy handwriting. He grimaced, learn to write Black, he thought irritably. Trying to read the terrible writing he sighed, a sharp pain starting behind his eyes. He tossed the report on the ever growing pile of parchment that was his desk. I'll read it later, he decided. Stretching he glanced to the door as a pretty brunette entered his office. "Hermione," he smiled, "is it noon already?"

She returned his grin, "I seriously doubt you have been working so hard that you've lost track of time," she teased.

He made a face at the pile of papers he had been trying to ignore, "No matter how many I go through the stack just keeps getting higher," he scowled, "I think someone's cursed my desk."

She laughed, "Come on, maybe lunch will take your mind off it."

Letting her drag him out the door, he slipped an arm around her waist and hugged her to him. She smiled up at him, "What was that for?"

He shrugged, "Just cause." She gave him a quick kiss, and he hugged her again, his headache beginning to fade. "Where do you want to eat?"

It was her turn to shrug, "Doesn't matter, as long as we have a table."

He glanced down to her arms and groaned, she was carrying a bag that bulged sickly. "Do you have to work every second of the day?"

Hermione gave him a glare, "I take my work seriously Ronald Weasley!" Her chin lifted and he knew he was in trouble, "but I'll have you know this," she tapped the bag, "is not work." She clutched the bag closer, "This is our wedding."

He blinked, oh no, "We're supposed to work on the invitations!"

"That's right," she sighed softly, "but if you don't want to-"

"Of course I want to!" The smile returned to her face, "That paper work wiped my brain clean is all." He placed a kiss on the top of her head, "I'm sorry I forgot, do you forgive me?"

She punched him playfully, nearly dropping her bag, "As long as you help me with all of the planning and all of the work, then yes, I more than forgive you."

The restaurant they chose was one of their favorites, it was small, comfortable, had extra large tables and wonderful food. Sitting at a table near the back, Hermione drank her tea while waiting for Ron to finish looking through the invitations. "You didn't do Harry's yet," he pointed out.

"I thought you'd want to."

He grinned, "Okay, you're always right." He picked up one of the white envelopes, "Ginny knows when it's at."

Hermione sighed, "We still have to send her one Ron, she'd be upset if we didn't."

He looked shocked, "But she's in it, she should know we want her there." He dropped it in a pile and then looked disgusted as he picked another invitation up. He held it between his thumb and forefinger as if it was contaminated, "and why are we sending one to Snape?"

She was unable to stop a snort of laughter, "Ron he hasn't even touched it yet."

"Yeah," he agreed, giving it another look, "But he's going to and I don't want him touching where I touched."

She shook her head, "You know very well why we have to invite him," she sighed, "Besides, we can't invite the rest of the teachers and not him. It would be cruel."

He grinned suddenly, "He probably won't come anyway."

Hermione sighed, "That's the spirit I guess." She speared a carrot off her plate and watched her fiancé while she ate.

He bit the end of his quill, "What should I say Mione?" He studied the tiny invitation, "There's hardly any room to write on this thing."

"You're just to write the date and everything, you can add a letter to it if you like." She fished out an invitation with everything filled in, "Here, use this to copy from."

He studied it for a moment and then began filling out Harry's invitation. "Should I add and guest?" he asked suddenly.

She raised her eyebrows, "And why wouldn't you?"

He bit his lip, "Well I was hoping he'd want to go with Ginny." He gave her a sheepish look, one of his classics, "I just thought that if neither of them brought anyone-"

Hermione sighed, "Ron you can't force people together."

He snorted, "It wouldn't be forcing them together. Ginny really likes Harry." He gave her a challenging look, "And Harry likes Ginny, even if he hasn't said so yet."

She patted him on the hand, "If Harry wants to ask her he will, but we can't not allow him to bring someone else if he wants to."

"Fine," he relented, "I'll add and guest." Filling in the line he showed it to her, "There, you happy now?" She smiled, and finished off the rest of her carrots.

Ron smiled, an idea forming. He knew exactly what he wanted to write to Harry in his letter. Finishing the invitation he picked up a clean piece of parchment and began writing. The first part of the letter was safe enough to write in front of Hermione, that way she would not get suspicious. He could just see her brain work if he tried to write in private. He would just wait and finish the important part in his office.

Part 4: I humbly strive to understand and respect the opinions of others, regardless of their inferior intellect.

Draco Malfoy tapped his foot angrily against the oak floor. Grabbing a handful of chocolate mints he began popping the annoying things into his mouth one after the other. Once his mouth was filled with the combination of nauseating sweetness and irritating mint he scowled. Looking for his tea he threw some papers and random scrolls onto the floor. His hand finding a book he glanced at the cover and then tossed it into the fire. That should teach the stupid git to leave stuff lying about, he decided. Watching the book burn he felt mild pleasure, but it was quickly replaced by an aggravated feeling of impotence. He wanted to do something but Higgs would not let him. Why am I the only idiot who doesn't seem to think everything is going to be just fine, he kicked the stool beside him and watched it sail across the room to smash into the wall. There was a sick pleasure to be gained in hearing it crack and seeing it fall to the floor in a broken mess, but it did nothing to lessen his anger.

He turned his attention back to finding his tea and ignored the sound of footsteps racing down the stairs. "What the hell?" He ignored the newly arrived and highly irate wizard beside him. "Did you do this?" He did not even bother to turn toward him. "Are you out of your bloody mind?" He spotted his tea cup. "Is that my book?" There was sputtering from behind him, he took the opportunity to turn around. Reaching around the gaping man he picked up the kettle and refilled his cup. "You bloody bastard! That's my book!"

Draco glanced into the fire, "Was your book," he corrected.

"I'll kill you," his hands were clenched into fists, "I swear I'm going to kill you."

Draining his cup he sighed, the annoying taste finally gone. "Oh for Merlin's sake I'll get you a new one," he drawled lazily, the other's rage drawing some of his anger out.

"No you won't, cause you'll be dead!" the tall wizard howled.

There was a soft sigh from the doorway, "Jus wa' t'ave yea done now?" The pretty Irish girl swept into the room far too happily for his sake. "An wha t'are ye crying fer Leon?"

Leon pointed into the fire, "He's burned my book, the bastard threw it in the fire."

She pursed her lips, "Why wou' yea do somethin like tha' Nathair?" She gave the blond man a frown, and then patted the taller man on the back, "There there, ih' t'wall be all righ'."

Draco scowled at both of them, "It was just a stupid book!"

"But ih t'was his stupid book," she replied.

The taller man slumped slightly, his brown eyes reflecting hurt, "Oh thank you Fiona that makes me feel so much better."

She opened her mouth to reply, but Draco threw his hands up, "You can go and burn something of mine if it will make you feel better!"

Leon turned away, "No," he said in defeat, "I'd only feel bad about it later." He looked longingly at the book, "And I had almost finished it too." Fiona placed a hand on his arm and they walked back toward the staircase together. She patting him comfortingly and he sighing dramatically.

"Annoying git," he shook his head. He's playing it up now, hoping she'll keep comforting him. His rage having bled out during the encounter, the young man sighed and fell back into his chair. He hated them, they only cared about themselves. Well, he knew that was not really true, but he could still think it. He could still feel that way. He ran a hand through short white-blond hair, they were all common anyway and undeserving of his attention. He leaned back in the chair, why Higgs had ever picked them he would never understand. Draco glared at Leon's back as he retreated up the stair. The stupid git was far too emotional, messing everything up and always getting them into trouble. He scowled, and if that was not bad enough, he came from a muggle family to boot, stupid mudblood; always going on about bloody this and bleeding that, foul mouthed and disgustingly common. But at least he was a half decent wizard, even if his methods were unconventional, the squib wanna-be could hardly even cast a spell. She was a liability Higgs would have to pay for one day, and Draco did not want to be the currency. He scowled, and she was far too happy, no one should be that happy. The Yank and Bird Boy weren't any better either, and he couldn't care the least about the hippy. He felt like pouting, but he had not done that since his mother had died, well not much anyway. Commoners the whole lot.

The only people worth his acknowledgment were Higgs and Harry. He scowled, and now Harry was being sent to Hogwarts. He felt his lip twitch, and with no one to watch him there was no telling how he was going to get himself killed. Stupid Gryffindor, always trying to save the world while dying in the process. Draco had demanded they send someone with him, but Higgs claimed Harry would be fine at Hogwarts, it was one of the safest places in the Wizarding World right now. He snorted, yeah, if it's so secure then how come Voldemort always seemed to be able to get at Harry during the school year? He frowned, and then stuffed more of the god awful chocolate mints into his mouth. Chewing, a disgusted look on his face, he allowed himself a pout.

He had not always thought so highly of Harry, no on the contrary he had once hated him. No, he and Harry had not gotten along at all. Draco stuffed another handful of the revolting candies into his mouth. Harry had always been a better person, Draco crossed his arms over his chest, okay hestill was a better person, but he didn't have to admit it to anyone. He knew had he been in the other boy's shoes three years back, he wouldn't have done quite the same thing. No, he decided,I'd have been a complete arse and let him die. But not now, he added quickly,never now. Stretching his legs out he stared into the fire, his scars still hurt where the Death Eaters had cut him. They had not wanted to kill him too quickly, and that was the only reason he was still alive. Well, that and Harry. At first he had simply wanted to repay his debt, he hated being indebted to anyone. But Harry's kindness had started to get to him, and somewhere along the way they had become friends. Nearly brothers really, well, he thought of Harry as his brother, he wasn't sure what Harry thought of him.

Draco reached for more candy but found it empty, he hated chocolate mints anyway. He tapped his foot against the floor, there had to be something he could do. If only he could have gone with him, made sure he wasn't going there to die. He scowled, Higgs was keeping everything secret and he did not like it. Dumbledore should be made aware of what was going on with Harry, that way at least someone would keep an eye on him. He thought about sending the old wizard an owl, but then changed his mind, what if someone intercepted it? He sighed, and then there was Snape. Harry seemed to trust him, wanted to trust him, but he did not. Draco snorted, no one who had been a Death Eater could be trusted, not even one who claimed to be on their side now. Anyone could turn on you, try to kill you, even your father. Someone should be there, Harry should not be alone, he had too much to worry about all ready. Voldemort should have been enough for anyone to deal with, why make him face this alone? Draco sneered, he hated Higgs too, he was a prick.

If only I wasn't supposed to be-" he froze, his thoughts turning excited. Wait, I could be there, not physically, but I could be there. He grinned, leaping from his chair and racing up the stairs. Ignoring the curious looks he got from the stupit git and near-squib, he pushed past them to his room. It's around here somewhere, he began throwing various items about his room. His hand closing around a silver chain he pulled it out to view the pendant dangling from it. The clear orb spun lazily back and forth. Now, I just need something of Harry's, he frowned, what would work best? He stopped to go over his choices, the more personal the better. He tapped his chin, something he handles a lot or is close to him a lot. Wait, he thought suddenly,why do I have to use an item, why not some of his hair? He turned to head toward Harry's room, but then stopped, a new thought occurring to him. Why hair when I can get blood? Blood would be even better, it would be the closest thing to Harry that there was. Blood then, he decided, turning to race back down the stairs. Higgs would have more than enough, he had wanted to run some tests on Harry and he always took way too much, the bastard.

Draco took the stairs two steps at a time, he was finally able to do something, and he was going to do it before anyone could stop him. He slid across the papers he had scattered on the floor, but managed to keep his balance. Storming through the gathering room he headed toward the back of the house. Throwing the door open he strode quickly down the short path until he reached the smaller house. Not bothering to knock, he opened the door with his wand and continued through the house until coming to the room Higgs used as his lab. Not caring whether or not the man caught him, Draco cast gray eyes about the room, stopping when they landed on a cabinet to his left. The cabinet had a cold spell cast on it, so he was certain it was the correct one. Opening the doors, he pawed through the various vials, turning them so that he could read their labels. H.Potter caught his eye and he swiped it from the tray. I only need a drop he thought, he'll never even know I was in here.

Stepping back from the cabinet he held the pendent in the palm of his hand. Whispering the activation spell, he uncorked the vial and dripped some blood onto it. Watching the clear crystal absorb the blood, he whispered the sealing spell and then binded it to himself. Slipping the silver chain over his head he tucked it under his shirt. Feeling very much like the cat who caught the canary, he replaced the blood and closed the cabinet. Leaving the small house, he re-locked the door and then went back to the main house. Sitting back in his chair he pulled the pendant back out, a soft blue glow lighting the inside. Satisfied, he slipped it back under his shirt, and felt a soft warmth against his chest. At least now he would know if anything was wrong with his only friend, and perhaps be able to do something to help.

After losing his entire life, Harry had been his one constant for three years, he was not going to turn his back on him now. Besides, everyone else hated him, if Harry died, who would he have to talk to? Patting the pendant he smiled, I think I'll keep this to myself for a while, he decided.

Part 5: If dogs could write...

The words blurred together, "whinfins?" he glared at the letter, "what the hell is he trying to write here?" As always he high-lighted the harder to read sections of Black's letter. He frowned, something about missing in the rain, oh he grinned in triumph, He had kept missing their tracks in the rain. Ron stared at the writing, what tracks? He looked back over it more confused than before. This is terrible, he thought, just because the man can turn himself into a dog does not mean he should write as one. He dropped the letter, refusing to look at it again until it became more legible. Forget code, they should just let Black write all their letters,no one would understand them.

A hand reached out to snatch up the letter, "Having problems with Sirius again?" Hermione asked standing just behind his shoulder.

He sighed, "Yes, the man cannot write worth rubbish."

"Well maybe I can help," she held the letter up and began to read, "Been tracking the thieves for a week now, I should have them within a few nights time. It was difficult at first because of the downpour. I kept missing their tracks in the rain. Once I changed to my dog form it was relatively easy. I'll make sure they still have the items, if not I'll try and find out where they dropped them. Tell Moody he was right, they are definitely dark wizards and warrant our special attention. The only thing that bothers me is why didn't they simply apparate? Perhaps we'll know when I have them. Black."

He blinked, "How do you do that?" She smiled, putting the letter back on his desk. He leaned back to look up at her, a mischievous grin on his lips, "So, Miss I take my work very seriously, how come you seem to find yourself at my desk so often?"

She blushed, "I came to tell you something."

He turned so that he could look at her without straining his neck, "What is it?"

A smile lit her face, "It's about Harry, I just found out your father has sent him to Hogwarts." She sat down on his desk, crumpling several scrolls, "He'll be there for the whole term so we should be able to see him."

Ron looked stunned and then returned her smile, "Oh Mione, that's wonderful!" He looked like a little boy at Christmas, "We'll have to go as soon as he's settled." Imagine, Harry back at Hogwarts, not being sent all over god knows where. He would be staying in one place and he and Hermione could visit him on the weekends. Then something occurred to him. His smile faltered. This was Harry they were talking about, there had to be a reason he was being sent to Hogwarts. Hogwarts, one of the only safe places to go when You-Know-Who was trying to kill you. "Did anyone say why he's being sent?"

She blinked, "No, just that he would be helping to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh that's just grand," Ron wailed suddenly, "the most cursed teaching position that ever existed." He banged his head against his desk, "If they aren't You-Know-Who or a Death Eater in disguise then something really horrid always happens to them by the end of the year." He moaned, "Professor Grant didn't even last the whole year, he had a nervous break down before exams."

"Oh Ron, it won't be like that for Harry," she hoped silently, "I mean he isn't even the Professor, he's just going to be assisting." She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Besides, Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to him."

"Yes that makes everything better," he sighed sarcastically, "cause we know nothing bad ever happens while Dumbledore is around."

Hermione watched him for a moment, "It will be all right, we'll visit him and see how he's doing."

He leaned back in his chair, "Yes I suppose you're right, no sense in panicking before anything happens." He tried to smile, but failed miserably, "I just hope he'll be all right. I mean, you know Harry, he's never had a normal year at Hogwarts."

TBC

What was in that letter Harry wanted Dumbledore to read?
Will Snape ever get to read it? and would he really want to?
Where was Harry during those three days he went missing?
What did Ron add to Harry's letter he didn't want Hermione to read?
Was Harry really smirking at Draco's funeral[that's just disrespectful!

Read "It's All In Your Head," the next exciting chapter of Blood & Dust, where these and many new questions will not be answered.