"I give up. This is nothing but a bunch of ruddy nonsense about letting the earth guide you. How do you even do that?" Ron slammed his book shut.

"Some of these do seem a bit like those magic books you find in Muggle shops. " Hermione's voice revealed a tilt of frustration, but her eyes stayed in the book she held. "This one seems to have secret spells to help a person find their spirit guide, whatever that means. But we've got to keep looking. What if there's an answer here?"

"Answer to what?" Harry pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If I need to know what stone best compliments my aura I'll ask Trelawney."

"Well, there's an entire pile of these to go and I'm not doing them by myself."

"Hermione." Ron's voice came precariously close to a whine. "We've not found anything even close, and we've looked through more than half. These books are rubbish. Whatever magic we need isn't here."

"What do you propose we do, Ron? Honestly, give me something better and I'll be more than happy to leave this library and join you." Her eyes came out of the book to flash fire at her boyfriend.

Ron smiled his most charming, forgetting the million other times charm hadn't managed to work. "I've got an idea. Why don't we do exactly the opposite of what Snape says and find some brilliant Muggle weapon and just blowYou Know Whoup?"

She rolled her eyes and dove back into the book, her shoulders hunched in a way that meant she was now ignoring them.

Ron turned to Harry. "How about it? Blow his head off with one of those Muggle bazooms?"

"Bazooms?" Harry laughed.

Ron blinked. "Dad says they're like really loud wands with triggers and they shoot metal instead of magic, and it just sounds perfect to me."

Harry blinked. "Do you mean...bazooka?"

"Whatever, mate. Bazoom, bazooka." Ron shrugged.

"Right. I dunno. Seems like any kind of gun would do it, but Snape..." Harry frowned. "I guess he's just a bitter old idiot though, right? Bet you a sackful of galleons he never had the bollucks to try to kill Voldemort himself."

Ron laughed. "Can't even say that name, can he?"

Even Hermione stopped pretending to ignore them long enough to look at Ron.

Ron flushed. "Anyway."

Harry sighed and grabbed another book.

"Now what I don't understand," came a voice suddenly from near the door.

Harry jumped, wand half out before he realized what he was doing.

Seamus leaned against a book shelf, arms crossed as he regarded them. "What I don't understand is why I can never track anyone down in this castle. I don't understand why there's this bloody great empty place and that beautiful lake outside and that view from the west walls, and yet I find you three in here, reading like you're still in school."

Ron laughed - glad of the interruption, Harry knew. Ron really didn't like research. "How's it going then, Seamus? You bored? I can show you some of the hidden corridors on the third floor if you're bored."

"Don't you dare." came Hermione's instant response.

Seamus chuckled, looking the opposite of the pale, scared figure he'd been last time Harry had seen him.

Which reminded him... "Say, mate. Where are you hiding out, anyway? Haven't seen you much at all since dinner the other night."

Seamus moved in and threw himself into a chair. He pushed aside some of the books without looking at them, which made Hermione sigh relief. Seamus was an old friend but he wasn't in the Order and he probably didn't have a clue what was happening.

"I suppose mostly I've just felt like keeping to myself. Looking around the castle and everything. It's so strange being back here. It's going to take some getting used to."

Hermione leaned towards him, her brow furrowed. "Your wand burned in your home, didn't it?"

He nodded.

"Does that mean you've not done magic since..."

"Not for years. I haven't let myself think about it." He smiled sadly. "I thought the wizarding world had just thrown me away. It was easy to tell myself I wanted nothing to do with it anymore."

Harry understood that. "Have you thought about getting a wand now? To defend yourself?"

Seamus laughed. "No, no. There's no point, really. I don't need to defend myself. I've got Severus, don't I? And now all my old friends back."

"What if you need to defend yourself from Snape?"

Seamus tilted his head. "That's just silly, Harry."

"Or any of us?" Harry added as an afterthought. "You're back in this world now, you'll probably need it."

"Oh, I don't think so. I'm nobody, really. I'm as good as a Muggle these days. And hanging around all you important sorts makes me even less of a target, doesn't it?"

"That's a naive attitude to have right now," Harry said.

"Besides, you need to be able to take care of yourself. You shouldn't need to rely on anyone for anything." Hermione studied Seamus.

Seamus just smiled. "But I already do."

"Snape."

He turned to Harry and nodded. "Of course. I rely on him for just about everything. I don't need anything else."

Harry shook his head, astounded. How much of this was Seamus and how much was that potion he didn't know, but still... "I never had you pegged as a doormat, mate."

Seamus's smile wavered.

Harry leaned in, studying him. Old Magic was beyond his control. Voldemort was out of his grasp. But Seamus he could help. All he had to do was break him from the hold Snape had on him.

Seamus met his eyes, then looked down. "You don't understand, Harry. Not at all. Think badly of me if you want, but nothing's ever as simple as it seems."

Snape sighed as he turned off the fire under his cauldron. This was a bigger moment than he was giving it credit for. He had done so much work on this potion in the last few years, but his trials had gone untested. He knew it would work the way he had altered it to, of course. His potions always did.

But proof never hurt.

He poured the potion into two goblets and grimaced, realizing this meant he had to go hunt down a werewolf.

That was at least a simpler task than it might have been in Ireland. He simply threw powder into his floo and stuck his head in, letting the fire whip him disconcertingly into a fresh room.

"Lupin."

Remus sat at his sofa, drinking tea, being annoyingly English as was his wont. And, for good or bad, the other werewolf was there with him. His drink seemed less innocent.

The second wolf started when he appeared, but Lupin was unphased. "Severus."

He grunted and pushed his hands through the fire. The goblets arrived on the other side unspilt and he held them out. "Here."

Remus stood, setting his cup and saucer down and straightening his sweater, approaching the fire. "What's this?"

"The full moon is in five days. Don't ask stupid questions."

Remus looked surprised. "Severus, please don't think I don't appreciate this, but I have another contact for Wolfsbane. A man I found through a potion's journal once you had left. His delivery...is late, as a matter of fact, but should be here any time."

Snape cocked an eyebrow. "You're not getting a bloody package. And the next time you accept a delicate potion from a total stranger on the basis of a few articles in a journal, you'll probably end up dead or wishing you were."

"More than a few. The man is well-regarded as..." Remus frowned and took the goblets. Then his eyes cleared and he seemed utterly astounded. "It was you?"

The other man joined Lupin, sniffing at the goblet and making a face. "What's this, then?"

Snape sighed, wanting to pull his head back and go back to his silence, but knowing Lupin would follow him if he did. "Just drink it."

"Wolfsbane," Remus said, handing the goblet to him.

Dom, Snape remembered his name suddenly, took the goblet but shook his head. "Don't have the money, mate. Ministry never did pay enough to save any-"

Remus stopped him. "He doesn't want payment. But...he has my thanks, for what it's worth." He turned back to Snape, his eyes odd. "All this time it was you, and you never let on. But the journals, the contributions that name has made over the years..."

"They won't publish a known Death Eater's works. Thank me by drinking the potion and letting it be." Snape moved through the fire, shutting his eyes against the sickening rush.

Alone in his office again, he looked at the two remaining cauldrons, bubbling away as always. He sighed, and his arm gave a twinge.

He wondered if anyone was waiting for him back in his quarters.