Author's Note and Thanks: had to change the division symbols. This new program doesn't keep them for some reason. So, I hope that using numbers won't be annoying. If they do, I apologize even though there really isn't much I can do about it, unless someone knows how to do it and will share the secret.

MoroTheWolfGod, how's this?

Kyer, sorry about the headache, though I'm glad that you're enjoying it. Just one question, other than Albus, could you really see Severus allowing anyone to know about the gender switch even if it was the result of a spell or potion? I don't know but I think the way JK writes him is that he is a very private individual-even if he is wildly vocal about his hatred for all those in Gryffindor-and Potter most of all.

777

The dog on the bed woke once in the transition from the office to Snape's quarters. It was a smooth move made by the house elf he'd seen earlier. Glassy, wasn't it? He felt that he should be more concerned by this situation than he was.

But he really couldn't bring himself to care-especially when he felt the softness of the mattress beneath his aching body.

With gentle hands, the house elf wrapped him a soft blanket and proceeded to feed him some easy to digest food. Other than the faint trace of potions, the meal was filling and delicious to his starving body.

With a contented yawn, he curled up and went to sleep.

Glassy waited for a moment, then turned to the door and went out into the hall. After all, he had more work to perform than taking care of one sick dog. Right now, he needed to gather the dryad's tears for the potion his master would be working on.

Albus waited for a moment before entering the room. With a deliberately delicate touch, he tugged free some of the dog's fur and waited a heartbeat before he left. By tomorrow night, the headmaster would know everything about the animal from its parents to the last thing it ate after arriving at Hogwarts.

777

The dismissal bell rang and the students returned to their desks, gathering their books together, ready to leave. A clearing throat stopped them cold and they turned to face their substitute teacher, somewhat anxious to be gone.

Severus knew of their impatience and waited, drawing out the moment for as long as the teacher reasonably could. "Professor Lupin shall be back by your next class, I expect that you review what you were to learn today and be prepared for him. Mr. Potter, you will remain here."

Shaking his head at the curious looks Hermione and Ron gave him; he walked to the desk and waited for the professor to speak. Glancing up from the papers on the desk, Severus stared at Harry before breaking the silence to speak. The green eyes finally fell away from the intense study.

"You will no doubt be relieved to know that I have checked out your alibi," the voice sneered at the words, watching the boy flinch and smiled grimly. "Mr. Filtch assures me that he let you go in plenty of time to get to the Gryffindor Tower before curfew. So, what I have to ask you, Mr. Potter, is what exactly you were doing out after hours?"

Green eyes came up and stared evenly into the beetle black ones, defiance on his face. "I have no idea."

"You don't know? Tell me, Mr. Potter, should I really believe such a pathetic reason for your breaking the rules and being out after hours? Surely, the Great Harry Potter can think of a much better excuse than that," Severus taunted.

"It's not an excuse!" he exclaimed. "It's the truth. I don't know what I was doing."

"Seeking to buoy up your impressive reputation more, perhaps?" the teacher pressed him, eyes hard as they held his. "May be find another hidden chamber? Or capture the escaped convict Sirius Black and prove that you are better than aurors at detaining convicts?"

"Following the sound of bells!" he shouted, unable to hold back the words.

His eyes widened as he saw the pale complexion of the professor go even paler. The sound of raspy breathing seemed to echo hollowly in the room. Even as the chair scraped back across the floor, one of the window shudders blew open and Severus stood in front of it, blankly staring at the ground below.

"Take a pass and leave, Mr. Potter," the voice was croaky sounding.

Harry shook his head in disbelief at the dismissal and the tone of voice. It just didn't seem real that this was his professor speaking. Part of him wanted to take the pass and leave without another thought. After all, Snape was telling him to go. Who would blame him if he did? Certainly not the professor, though one could never tell with Snape.

Yet, a greater part wanted to press the professor, find out why his words had caused such an extreme reaction in his teacher.

"Sir?"

"I believe you heard me, Potter. This is the only time you will get off so easily." Came the cold reply, in the same strange tone of voice.

Whatever it was, the Gryffindor knew it was bad. "But what is it?"

"Get to your class, Potter!" Severus whirled around and practically threw the boy out with his things and the pass. Slamming the door shut behind Potter, the dark haired professor leaned against the cool wood. "Curse you, Albus."

Harry stood outside the classroom, utter bafflement on his face. It was becoming an all to familiar expression to him when dealing with Snape. Just when he thought he'd figured out the man, he went and threw that idea in his face.

"What was that?" he asked the empty hall, half expecting for an answer. Of course, none came and he went to his next class, hoping that they wouldn't be doing anything important.

His mind was too lost in trying to figure out what was behind the professor's odd and almost irrational behavior. His teacher knew something. But what?

Sitting down next to Ron, he ignored the questioning look. "I'll tell you later," he hissed when Ron continued to stare at him.

Once class had ended, Ron and Hermione cornered him and they snuck outside. "What did the greasy git want?"

"To inform me that he checked my alibi for last night," he mimicked the inflection of the voice perfectly.

Hermione shivered at the imitation. But when she looked at him, it was with a scandalized expression. "Harry, don't do that. Not only is it rude but Professor Snape is your teacher."

"Well, he doesn't act like one," Ron muttered.

"And deserves to have some consideration given him because of that," she went on over the interruption, though she did glare at Ron. "Why would he want to do that? You were in bed before curfew. Weren't you?" she looked at them both suspiciously.

"What?" Ron held up his hands.

"Both of you were in, weren't you?" she asked. "Ron, you told me that you would make sure that Harry got in before to late."

"I thought he was in," he protested.

Harry shook his head, speaking up before they could get into a fight.

It was bad enough they fought over Crookshanks and Scabbers. He really didn't want them to get into a fight over this. It wasn't really worth it. "The thing is, I don't remember what happened after I left Filtch's office."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

The Gryffindor shrugged, a helpless look on his face. "I remember leaving my detention and headed for the dorms but I don't know what happened after that. Except for one thing, a kind of siren song calling me to something. Snape acted odd when I told him what I heard the sound of bells. He sent me to class without another word-with a pass."

"Harry, that's not normal. Have you talked to Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"When have I had the time between being yelled at by Snape and classes?" he asked in answer to Hermione's question.

"Don't you think you should?"

His lips twisted in a semblance of a smile. "And what's he going to do? Offer me a lemon drop? No, the answer is in Snape's head."

"How do you propose to find out?"

"I don't know, Hermione," he said. "But there has to be a way."

"Well, I still think you need to talk to the Headmaster, but it's your choice."

"Since when?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm the Boy Who Lived, nothing is my choice."

"Well, now, isn't someone just a wee bit bitter?"

"Shut up, Draco," Ron said.

Harry groaned. "Not now." Getting up, he brushed off his pants and started to walk off towards the school.

"What's the matter, Potter? Too afraid to challenge me, so you have your lackey do it?"

Glancing over his shoulder once, he gestured to Crabbe and Goyle. "If I was, I'd be copying you, now wouldn't I?"

"Think you're clever, do you, Potter?"

"Is there a problem?" a haughty voice asked.

The group of students turned and saw a strange trio standing in the distance. Draco paled, recognizing them. "None," he stammered.

Hermione turned and stared at him, shock. Never had the Gryffindor heard the Slytherin aristocrat stumble or slur his words. She hadn't thought it possible. Yet, as impossible as it seemed, he had done so. Turning back, she tried to study the group.

But it was as though a film had been drawn across her eyes. They couldn't focus on them.

"Then you, Draco Malfoy, will show us to Professor Snape's quarters. You will say nothing about this to anyone. I will not tolerate any questions from you or anyone." The same voice spoke coolly and ordered the third year about with the ease of royalty.

"Of course," he said, jerking his head to indicate that his cronies leave him in peace and he walked to them. "This way."