A/N: Wayhey! JKR owns everything you recognise, and all I'm getting out of this is employment for my itching fingers and brain and the reviews and respect of you lovely readers. Cheers! Thank you! Thank you!

And here we are, spying on Harry again. Tut, tut, tut. He's gone back to his more comfortable state, I see – angry, but resigned. Enjoy the chapter, people.

Enjoy it. It might be your last. Dun dun dun…Not. Again.

Sorry – I keep doing this, don't I?

Chapter 8: Scheming Slytherins

Harry scowled at the infuriating lump of golem smouldering teasingly in front of him. He rose from his slightly uncomfortable crouch in the close, warm dungeon, eyeing the infuriating, vaguely human-shaped figure perched awkwardly on a rickety chair. Severus had left it behind the previous night after a running him through a gruelling set of mind-numbing shielding drills, sneering that if he'd come along at all in the past week, he should be able to destroy the stuffed caricature of a human body.

Harry took deep breaths, muttering obscene things under his breath. He'd gotten better at that, at least – if nothing else.

Well, nothing else in Severus' opinion. Harry rolled his eyes, wishing for what he thought was absolutely the hundredth time that his damned father would just tell him straight out how he was doing.

Harry gave himself a little shake, setting his shoulders – one last try wouldn't do any harm –

"Adnitor golem ruo," he pronounced firmly, desperation leaking into his changed, lower tone as the magic seemed to seep out of him, reaching malevolently for the damned thing – he only hoped he'd used the right variation – the Adnitor was stupid like that, as powerful as it was – "Fuck – fucking hell – "

The golem was unharmed, if further smudged by the draining Manipulation Charm. Harry continued to swear, combining magical objects and famous magical figures and dousing them liberally with every obscene thing he could think of, resisting, all the while, the urge to go over and just kick the damn thing, as it could probably be cursed –

Cursed.

"Oh god I'm stupid – Narrare anathema…" Harry's voice trailed off hopefully, for a moment, waiting for the object to glow slightly, and begin to emit suggestions of the possible curses or hexes that might be – nothing.

Nothing.

"Merlin's arse on a fucking stick – "

Feeling red in the face, the tall teen gave the offending object one last, slightly drawn-out glare before heading for the door. He opened it carefully – the heavy doors down here all boasted a special technique, and he had no inclination to repeat the highly embarrassing event of four days ago, when Severus had Portkeyed in at the usual time only to find Harry twitching painfully on the floor, having strained almost every muscle in his back trying to shift the bathroom door.

Harry felt himself grow hotter, though he knew it – thank Merlin – didn't show as easily anymore. It had been horrible sitting through the ensuing speech from his livid father, who, it turned out, had recently acquired the ability to make his unwilling son feel guilty for the smallest things since what Harry termed as the "Tub Incident".

And, as usual, his father knew it – and used it against him in every way possible.

Harry, disgruntled, fumbled with his worn trousers – my father's, just like everything here – vaguely meaning to take the piss he'd been wanting to ever since he'd tried throwing three high-magnitude Severing Charms at the golem in a row. He scowled at the toilet bowl, feeling hard done by – he'd somehow managed to burn himself that time –

The toilet grudgingly flushed itself as Harry tucked himself away, not really wanting to look at – himself – in detail. He knew he'd changed down there – he wasn't stupid – but did not want to deal with it, not now, not with the still-lingering memory of – hands – down there. Hands that had not been his own –

Stop that.

He'd become practiced at fending off the unwanted recollections – something he was exceedingly grateful for. With all the books and spells Severus was practically forcing down his throat, he'd decided to dismiss the fear for now, to just forget for now.

I, Harry thought resentfully, washing his thin hands, have quite enough to be going on with, just now.

And he did, honestly.

For one, there was the fact that the Enchantment Strengthener had finally worn off the day after he'd nearly drowned himself in this very dungeon. Harry winced, remembering the pure panic – the pure despair – then shut it away, choosing, instead, to examine his new face in the cracked, wheezing mirror once again.

It wasn't that he hadn't wanted the stupid potion to wear off – it had been slowing down the healing of his superficial magical scars – but it just felt odd without it. As if something had stopped pulsing away at him, sharing some undefined space within his thin, weak body. Harry impatiently shook his wet hands, muttering a quick drying spell without even thinking to reach for the temporary wand, before he remembered what he was doing.

His shoulders sank down slightly, because it was things like that – being able to do more wandless magic than before, being able to put just a little more into his spells, being able to attempt harder ones and learn them faster than he'd thought…Harry sighed, rolling his eyes at himself. Trust me to dislike being more powerful –

The eyes – he'd just – that was new, rolling his eyes like that –

He did it again, just to catalogue the expression, like Severus had been incessantly reminding him to do all week – there. And again, because it was disconcerting – he actually looked – well – interesting, somehow, doing that. Harry repeated the action slowly, trying to watch the way his thickened eyebrows lifted slightly with the movement – the way his mouth sort of twitched at the end. It was really very – Harry narrowed his eyes at himself in the mirror, and was startled to see the same – correlation – it was just –

He looked good.

Harry licked his lips nervously, now used to repeating the action with thinner, somehow more mobile appendages. It was a little off-putting, to be quite frank – he'd always thought he looked okay, but not good, not like this. Not, Harry curled a lip disdainfully, Roger Davies good.

God, that looked – good – as well. Harry stared at himself, at the stranger in the mirror that would be known to everyone as Tobias Snape, and decided to force the issue, just this once.

I can do this – evaluate, like Severus said…

Right. Where to begin – Harry looked downwards, at the safest thing he could think of.

Well, his hands were larger, that was one thing. He inspected them, a little fondly – he'd gotten used to hiding and using them at Hogwarts just before – that. Well, that was one thing – oh, and my wrists – a bit thinner –

It went on for a while, with Harry turning this way and that, checking angles with a fastidiousness he'd not used since the months of concealment at Hogwarts. All in all, it wasn't that different, he decided. Just that his skin was much paler, and that the angles of his face and body had changed. It was interesting how so few changes made him look so different – the sharp eyed, sharp-featured boy in the mirror looked nothing like Harry Potter.

He looked, rather, very much like a young Professor Snape. With softer, oddly diminished features, and an odd connectedness that reconciled the nose – God, I'll never get used to it – with the rest of the face. It all fit, somehow – the slightly hooded, darker green eyes, the thinner lips, the sharper features, the more menacing brow, the flatter, longer hair – even the wide shoulders and added height seemed to fit, even though Harry knew he was still clumsy and unused to the new legs.

Harry straightened slightly, now actually admiring his new profile. As irritating as having that nose was, he was taller (even though he strongly suspected Severus had slipped him something to make him grow an inch or two extra at some point before this week), and the whole effect was a bit more striking.

Very striking, indeed, Harry thought, giving himself an experimental sneer – they worked for him now, and worked well – very Tobias Snape...

He gave his new face a final splash before exiting the dungeon bathroom, ignoring the delayed comments of the mirror, which promised rather sleepily that it would actually stay awake enough to talk the next time. Harry snorted, ignoring the slight embarrassment over what he'd just admitted to himself – what he'd, essentially just been doing.

Eyeing himself up in a bloody mirror, for Merlin's sake –

Where have you been? demanded a familiar, irritated tone from the tangled covers on his pallet. Harry smiled almost involuntarily – resisted the urge to check what it looked like – then moved to pick up the slightly sleepy black snake from the unmade bed.

Grooming myself, Harry answered, before quite thinking it through. Iona did not seem to notice his embarrassment – or, what was more likely, she didn't care – as she slid happily up through his sleeve and onto his left arm, which she wound about with every opportunity nowadays.

Good. The answer was said in such a firm tone of approval that Harry could not keep back a laugh – a rather lower one than he was used to, now – she sounded so satisfied, as if she'd suggested he prance about in front of the old mirror…

Iona simply settled her head somewhere in the region of his armpit – very disconcerting, that, when he wasn't expecting that – and went into a tightly coiled doze. After knocking about the messy dungeon for a bit, Harry decided to have one more go at the golem – he had some time, before his dad – father – father, I mean – Severus would kill me if he knew I called him that –

And, as Harry wrestled his way back into what passed as a duelling room, he smiled, wondering what Severus Snape would do, exactly, if he did call him that.

Maybe I'll find out…Harry's thin lips spread into an evil smile – the very one Snape had been drilling and drilling him on, yesterday evening, when he hadn't had the energy left to rail at his – his new mentor.

Right, Harry shook himself slightly, eyeing the golem determinedly once more. Back to work – "Flaminis!"

And, as the familiar feeling spread through his right arm, the familiar light of the Blasting Curse poured from the end of the wand in his hand, seeming to weave into the battered golem

"A modified Blasting Curse, Potter?" Harry stopped short, anger simmering beneath his skin – the bloody thing was still intact – and looked round to see the newcomer, though he knew exactly who it would be.

Snape, sneering disdainfully. As usual. Harry sneered back, masking his irritation at being surprised so easily. He'd start harping on that any minute now –

"Do you listen to nothing, Potter?" Snape spat, striding over as the dungeon door slid shut behind him. Not really wanting to listen right now – he knew this useless child drill by heart, now – Harry simply fired off a Disarming Jinx, smirking at the caught-out expression on his father's face. Severus blocked the attack almost negligently, black eyes narrowing as he sent off his reply, turning out the lights in one smooth motion.

"Nox. Abdere artus!" Harry ducked the arcing purple fingers of the Destabilisation Hex, briefly incanting a Stabilis Charm over his body just in case – "Flaminis!" Harry incanted a modified Protego in return, but it wasn't enough – he was pushed slowly back into the smouldering golem, which immediately seemed to jump to life, seizing hold of his waist.

"Fuck – Stupefy!" Might not work, but –

"Protego. Didn't check for a Charm, did you boy?" Severus sneered, even as Harry twisted round in the harsh grip of the – damn it – charmed golem, only just managing to cast an Absorption Shield. The magic faltered for a bit, as it always did with his temporary wand, then broke down, flooding back in Snape's direction.

"Protego. Your reflected Stunning Spell didn't even dent my shield, Potter – "

"Stupefy!" The golem's stubby arms were still winched tight about Harry's waist, but he'd be damned if he'd stand there and listen to his teacher whinge –

"Protego. Pathetic, Potter." Snape's eyes, coming closer, seemed to take on that glittering determination his son had come to know very intimately in the past week. It means, Harry thought, groaning inwardly, that I'll be trying to Stun him for an hour in the dark – buggering hell – "Again!"

"Stupefy!"

"Protego – almost too easy – "

"STUPEFY!" Power roared out of Harry, seeming to flow off of his arm like fiery water, mingling with the bright red of the Stunning Spell that emerged from the temporary wand. Snape had only time enough to look highly interested before the spell hit him, tearing down his weak shield and crumpling him to the ground even as it lit his pale features with an eerie glow, before Harry could even try to apologise – warn him or something –

The stupid golem's arms fell from him, and Harry was soon at his father's side, panting out the requisite spell – "Ennervate – "

Harry's heart stilled for a long moment, as he waited for the bastard to stir already –

" – can't even spell up a decent Cushioning Charm, can you?"

– and began to beat again. But the door was closing – again – Harry spun for the door, blasting at the intruder without a thought – "Flaminis! Expelliarmus – "

"Merlin, Harry – it's only me – " And it looked to be – Remus' haggard features were lit up with the light of a mild Absorption shield that mostly deflected the force of the Blasting Curse. But still –

"Who's Iona?"

"Your very poisonous adder, Harry." Remus smiled a little, looking around the darkened room. "How are you – "

"What the hell do you think you are doing here, Lupin?" came the growl from between them. Harry found himself hard pressed to hide a smile – Severus was so predictable around Remus sometimes…but, really, he wanted to find out what Charm his father had used on the golem, and the impending series of sniping was best headed off as soon as possible.

"He just came in a minute ago – shall I try ag- "

"No, you shall not try again, Potter – " shot back the lump of straining spy before him. Harry sighed exasperatedly – he'd asked for a stronger Stunner, and he'd gotten one –

"This is ridiculous, fighting in the dark - lumos – " Light filled the large, duelling room – dungeon – which was empty but for a small desk and chairs and the battered, seemingly lifeless golem in one of the chairs.

"What are you – " Snape began, even as Harry knelt carefully beside him – he still wasn't getting up, and that couldn't be good –

"Turning on the lights, for Merlin's sake…" Remus' worried voice trailed over as he, too, approached the black-clad man crumpled on the floor.

"You're all right, aren't you…?" Harry asked, discretely casting the only notification charm he knew well – good, nothing seemed to be broken – as his father's unfocused stare fell on him.

"Well enough that you can put away that mawkish charm you just cast, Potter." Severus' harsh features took on a look of determination as he forced himself into a sitting position. Harry rose slowly to his feet, motioning at Remus to back off. It never did his disgruntled father any good to hover over him –

"He'll be all right," he stated decisively, giving Remus a pointed look. Thankfully he got the hint – he was dense around Harry that way, sometimes. Switching his green gaze back to Severus' pale, slightly stretched features, Harry thought he saw something like a flicker of – approval? "What charm did you use on the golem, Professor?" At the snort he got in reply, he shrugged his slim shoulders, slinking back to the centre of the room like he'd learned to, under duress. "Thought I'd try, anyway. What's on the menu tonight?"

"I believe," Snape ground out, eyeing Remus' slightly amused expression, "that that concludes combat training for the evening, Potter…" he sluggishly reached for his wand, "…make yourself useful, for once, and fetch something to drink. Then, if you are willing – " it was always fascinating how Snape could make a suggestion into a thinly veiled threat – " – we will begin your lessons in the Romanian language."

Harry tried not to groan as he left, making sure he opened the door gently, as it had a nasty habit of swinging violently back if you opened it too far. He'd seen that look Severus had given Remus – he knew it meant there was something they wanted to talk about without having him around. Rolling his eyes, he ducked into his dungeon and rooted around for glasses before giving up and Summoning them – wandlessly, because the Summoning Charm almost never worked for him with this wand – and, after spontaneously Conjuring them full of pumpkin juice, changing the juice to water.

Severus had nearly yelled himself hoarse the last time Harry had absently Conjured himself a glass of something to drink, so this time, he decided he'd be subtle about it.

A hasty wipe later, the rather battered tray was following him out of the dungeon, carrying the three glasses instead of the potions it had bravely supported for the last few weeks.

"…so that raid's pushed off 'til the thirty-first, because we can't possibly deal with it now that – oh, here's Harry – " Remus smoothly changed the topic as Harry sidled into the duelling dungeon, making him stop in irritation. He really hated the way they – ow –

Harry whipped round, scowling at the stupid tray – it had just bumped him in the back, in a rather sore spot from the golem's maliciously lumpy grip. He sent it towards the small desk in the corner, at which Severus had laid out a disheartening amount of textbooks and odd-looking devices, only just remembering to use the wand in his hand. It was enough to catch his father's notice, however, and Severus' eyes narrowed, roving over the floating – well, non-floating, now – tray.

Remus, sensing the tension, gently Summoned one of the three glasses despite the fact that he was near enough to take one off the tray. Harry fidgeted, pulling at his left sleeve unconsciously as Severus took a glass as well. He was well aware he wasn't supposed to tax himself by using wandless magic, but what was he supposed to do when things didn't work with his new –

What is wrong? Why are you twitching?

Harry, Remus and Severus all jerked as Iona announced her wakefulness with a bout of grumpy hissing. Harry looked down at his sleeve, wondering how on earth he'd managed to forget about the dark snake up his sleeve, which rippled abnormally with the irritated activity of Iona.

Stop that, Iona, he said hastily, trying not to wriggle more as she shot up into the back of his worn shirt. Remus was backing carefully away, glass all but forgotten in his hand, and Severus' eyes were wide with fear and irritation – or, at least, he thought so –

You woke me up, Iona snapped, poking her head out of the neck of his shirt. Can you not stop twitching?

"Potter," came the familiar tone from before him, tight with what Harry had come to know intimately over the last few days – anger. "This water is cold."

"What?" Harry could feel the bewilderment sweeping discreetly over his face as he tried to take careful hold of Iona's head or neck so he could get her out – What on earth does cold water have to do with Iona not being able to stay still long enough for me to get her out of my –

"You Conjured it, didn't you – despite all I have said on the subject – " Severus rose from his seat at the table, thumping a large textbook shut as he moved to tower over Harry, which, he resentfully thought, shouldn't have been possible by now – "And what on earth did you think you were doing, duelling with a poisonous adder up your sleeve?"

"I forgot she was there, honestly – "

"Pray tell me how," Snape sneered, dark eyes narrowing down at his still fidgeting son, "you managed to forget there was a living creature wound around your arm, while – "

"Look, it didn't feel like she was there, all right? Not until she moved, anyway…" Harry finally caught hold of Iona's neck – she was everlastingly hard to get hold of, sometimes, as smooth as her scales were – "Right – there we go – " Avoiding his bristling father's eyes, Harry set his irritated companion on the table as gently as possible, trying not to disturb the –

"And just when were you planning to inform us, Potter?"

"You're acting as if I knew, which I didn't – "

"How are you to remain safe in Slytherin if you cannot remember what is on your person at all times?" Snape ground out, stepping closer to Harry. Iona hissed violently from the table, causing both men to still immediately. "Call off your pet, for Merlin's sake – "

"Iona's not a pet, and she'll calm down just fine if you step back and stop acting like you want to kill me, dad," Harry spat back in reply, relishing the angry colour seeping into his dad's face as he grudgingly complied. "I'll be just fine in Slytherin, thank you – more bored than anything else, probably – "

"Potter, if you think – "

"Severus, Harry, please," Remus cut in from behind. Harry jerked in surprise, causing Iona to mutter something about 'twitchy human fools' – he'd forgotten Remus was there at all – "Look, I came here to tell you about the rumours your – ah – father," he shot a nervous glance at the seething man, "has spread about your arrival at Hogwarts during the Easter holidays – that they've taken hold, and – "

"Easter hols?" Harry could barely keep from shouting – for god's sake, that was ages away – you'd think he was teaching me how to be a bloody Auror, with all that time – "What the hell will take you more than a bloody month to teach me? It's not like I'm going to be doing anything useful," he lowered his tone, glaring at his now rather weary father – that was just a fucking front, he knew Severus didn't want to talk about it – probably something Dumbledore taught him, how-to-act-like-you're-tired-and-don't-want-to-talk-to-Harry – "Go on – tell me – tell me you can't just teach me half this shit in Hogwarts anyway – "

"You seem to have forgotten that I am supposed to disapprove of you, Tobias," Severus sneered, eyes shuttered – oh, now he Occludes – "It would be unwise to teach you more than is necessary as an apprentice at Hogwarts, you can grasp that, can't you?"

"You drop that tone, now," Harry hissed, anger pooling like a hot weight inside his chest. "I know perfectly well that you can't appear to like me, Severus. Whose fault is that, anyway?"

"I told him what was necessary – "

"Oh, I'm not blaming you," Harry ground out, his hands curling into fists as sharp-edged memories ran through his mind, almost all of them containing blond hair and pale fingers and that bastard's eyes –

"You must put aside your thirst for vengeance if you want to survive the rest of this year, Potter," Snape ventured uncertainly, something like trepidation appearing on his face. Harry really didn't care – all he could think of was strangling that blond man, slowly, over and over again, until he begged –

"Add something to those rumours, father," he said simply, ignoring the look of consternation on Remus' face at his tone – "Tell them I'm slightly…off. That way no one will question the fact that I can't stand to have Draco Malfoy breathing down my neck – "

"Did you hear nothing I said?"

"You don't get it, do you?" Harry shouted back, trying, now, to keep a handle on the energy pulsing within him, longing to reach out, to destroy – "I'm going to kill him, and that's that."

"Harry – " Alarm seemed to practically pour from the man behind him, but Harry felt cold to it – untouched by it. Where had the alarm been when Lucius Malfoy had grunted over him in that bloody cell, anyway?

"Stay out of this, Remus – "

"That is enough, Potter – "

"Oh fuck off, Severus – if I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted dear old Lucius to remain on this earth a bit longer than I do – "

"Don't speak to him like that, Harry – "

"Stay the FUCK out of it – this doesn't concern you any more than it concerns him. It's between Lucius and me, understand?" Harry could feel the reprimand coming, could feel his father practically bursting to feed him one of those stale platitudes of Dumbledore's, wrapped up in heavy sarcasm. He wouldn't stand there and listen to one more – "And stuff whatever fucking moral you're about to toss at me, Severus – you know I'm destined to be a killer anyway – why not do the world a favour and cull the herd some, along the way? Why the hell not, especially if one of the poor sods that meets an end by way of me is Lucius Malfoy?"

"Potter – "

"I asked you a question, father. Do me a favour and answer it, for once."

"How do you think the Dark Lord became what he is, Potter?" Severus shouted at him. "Retribution. It started with retribution for him," Severus spat, features constricted with anger and remorse, "as it did for me."

Harry stood there, stunned, not heeding the agitated hissing of Iona nearby, or the rapid breathing of Remus from behind him. That his own father would continue to think such a thing – that he could be like Voldemort –

"Harry, all that he means is – " Remus' desperate tone came from behind him. Harry turned on him – how dare he try to explain this away –

"Don't go putting words in his mouth, Remus – let him finish." Harry stepped closer to his agitated father, using every inch of his new height and magic, wanting desperately to prove something – anything – "You have this theory, don't you – about how I'll be the new Dark Lord if I off Malfoy senior – "

"I said no such thing," Snape snarled back, crossing his arms, seeming undaunted by his son's rage. "I merely warn you of what path you point yourself towards in your hate for his family – "

"Don't even think of the word 'forgive', Severus. Don't think it. Don't say it – just don't. I'm done talking about Lucius Malfoy for the day – now," Harry spun into one of the empty chairs by the desk, gathering Iona into his lap as he went, "about this training…"

Severus' eye held his own for a long moment, then fell to the pile of unopened books on the desk, to which he stiffly carried himself. Harry felt a surge of reckless triumph – god, he'd done it, stopped Severus from harping incessantly about his fucking choices. He suppressed a snort as he saw his father exchanging a covert look with a blank-looking Remus, and decided to plunge ahead while the going was good.

Or, at least, while they were both off base, and would actually listen to him –

"I had an idea," Harry began, stroking Iona's dark head softly as he felt the dark gaze of his father cross his form. It was a bit silly, he knew, but, by Merlin, if they thought he'd just sit around at Hogwarts twiddling his thumbs as a ceremonial 'member' of the Order, they were wrong – "I thought of a way to help the Order while I'm in Hogwarts again, and – "

"You will be helping the Order in the final strike, Potter – I find it difficult to envision any other way – " Severus began irritably, but Harry cut him off, as quickly as possible –

"Remus, how did you find out if the school believes the story of Severus' nephew arriving soon?" Remus started a little, choking on the rest of his water as Harry addressed him directly and grimacing predictably as he called his father by his first name. Harry sneered almost unconsciously – it was really sad, sometimes, how he wouldn't just accept that he'd changed –

"I talked to some of the Professors, as well as Ron and Hermione, Harry," Remus said, hesitating slightly at those two names. Harry willed himself not to stiffen, not to let the blazing injustice of the whole fucking situation boil up in any way –

Relax – think of the idea –

"What if you could speak to someone favourable to our cause…who watched the reactions of not just one or two of the Houses, but all of them, Slytherin included?" Harry kept his face straight as both of the men narrowed their eyes thoughtfully. They'd understand soon enough –

"In other words," Snape said disdainfully, belying the intense curiosity on his face, "you believe you can spy on the school for us – to, in effect, take over one of my functions."

"Oh, come on, father," Harry said, hiding his glee at his father's flinch, "I'm not saying that, and you know it – as a student, I'll – "

"As an apprentice – "

"As an apprentice that lives and eats with the most influential students of Slytherin, I'll be able to find out a few things you can't, is all I'm saying," Harry acquiesced, leaning back slightly. At least they're not laughing at me – "Seriously, think it through – neither you, nor the Professors, nor Dumbledore," he ignored the look Remus gave him, "nor Ron, nor Hermione is in Slytherin house, or is close to anyone in Slytherin house that will tell them more than they'd tell a friend."

"And naturally you know everything there is to know about befriending Slytherins – "

"Never said I was an expert – just think for a moment, will you? Tobias Snape is the Potions Master's apprentice and nephew – naturally he'll have something to offer horny Death Eaters-in-training, don't you think, being all but one himself – "

"Are you suggesting I teach you how to brew Dark potions, Potter?" Harry sighed – this was going to be much harder than he'd thought.

"I'm asking you to let me help the Order, Severus – you're already teaching me Dark spells, aren't you?"

"He has a point, Severus," came the surprising comment from a now seated Remus Lupin, who had set down the emptied glass of water. Snape stared at him, opening his mouth to protest, but was cut off. "You taught him the Adnitor – if that's not Dark, then I – "

"And how do you know I taught him the Manipulation Charm at all, Lupin?" Snape sneered back, flicking open one of the books on the table in what Harry hoped was a show of indifference – he knew he was working to convince his father he could do this, not Remus –

"You can tell by looking at the golem," Remus offered, a bit coolly. Harry jerked slightly in surprise, looking pointedly at the blasted thing, but he honestly couldn't see what – "It's warped – you can see the stitches have been stretched impossibly. The only thing keeping it together is that animation charm you put on it – "

"Wait – you knew there was a charm on it? You could've told me this morning, Remus – I wasted the whole bloody afternoon blasting that stupid thing – "

"And you wouldn't have learnt anything from the experience," Severus smugly put in. Harry glared at him – this was telling, how they were trying to steer him away from talking about his training. It was really infuriating the way his father manoeuvred him sometimes, as if he wouldn't realise what was going on –

"You have at least a month to give me all the experience I need to watch the Slytherins in my year, Severus," he said, trying to keep the frown from his features. "If you don't suggest the idea to Dumbledore, then I will. You know it's a good idea, I can tell – "

"The Headmaster has far more pressing concerns than the overseeing of how you employ your time at Hogwarts, Potter – "

"Oh, for Merlin's sake – it's Snape," Harry burst out, "would it kill you to let go of the idea that you don't and can't frighten me into submission by calling me that?" Severus threw his hands in the air exasperatedly, avoiding his son's eye. Harry rolled his eyes – the man was so fucking stubborn –

"Oh, all right," he got out, slamming the book he'd been handling between familiar long-fingered hands shut with a thump that echoed in the close dungeon. "I'll mention your little dream to the Headmaster, Po – Tobias."

"Excuse me?"

"It is your name, is it not?" Severus said, a vicious smile following the dissolving expression of irritation on his face. Harry groaned, cheering inwardly even as a bristling Severus (obviously feeling rather pleased with himself) began to list the texts he would be studying for the next week, including a dubious assortment of mouldy Romanian guidebooks. Severus explained – with a rather malicious smirk – that he would cast some kind of spell on Harry that would speed up the process of learning the language.

As horrible as spending the next few days without his proper wand sounded – for Severus, after the momentary departure of Remus, had railed against the idocy of Ollivander and his new apprentice, who had both refused to alter or mend Harry's wand unless he was present for the process – Harry felt he had accomplished something.

He'd gotten them thinking, and he knew it. And he'd begun to think, himself, that the admittedly now-dreaded return to Hogwarts and its maelstrom of memories and faces would not be quite so bad.

As Harry finally got to his feet and destroyed the charmed golem after a satisfying round of curse – or, rather, charm-breaking, he only hoped that his new niggling feeling of optimism would last.

A/N: Dear God, please help me to wade through the rest of these chapters.

Honestly, I need your help! Harry won't do what I intend him to do anymore, it's infuriating – first he goes off on a spree, examining himself indecorously, then he goes railing at poor Severus and Remus like a wild animal! The cheek of that young man, indeed –

Right. Damn this chapter to HELL if it didn't work out, or doesn't work out for you guys. I just hope I got the point across, and that it didn't fall flat.

Do ask any questions you want, people – feel free to drop by my livejournal account (that's www . livejournal . com / users / uchethegirl / with the spaces taken out) and harp on about Harry and the rest. The next chapter is frankly a bit up in the air – I think it'll be mostly in Harry's POV, but might start out with Severus instead and switch to Harry later on. And Harry will finally be leaving Snape Manor in the next two chapters, to burst upon the unsuspecting wizarding world.

Am actually some way through my new chapter for A Surreal Tale as well, so that should be up sometime this weekend, when I've finished studying and writing the horrendous amount of papers I have buzzing around in my brain. Thanks for putting up with me, and stay tuned for the next chapter, tentatively named Chapter 9: Tobias' First Test