Hours later, Severus' peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted by Rodolphus shaking him awake.

"Sev! Sev, let's go, everyone's sleeping."

"I was sleeping," Severus said mournfully, trying to pull the covers over his head. But his interest in the secret passage behind Gregory the Smarmy and in what Malfoy was planning got the better of him, and he grudgingly fumbled for his slippers.

They crept through the common room and out of the dungeons without making a sound. But as neither of them could remember the way to Gregory the Smarmy or even which floor he was on, they took to wandering the halls. Twice Severus had to stop Rodolphus from waking the snoozing portraits to ask directions. Just as Severus began to feel that the soles of his slippers had completely worn out, they had the bright idea of returning to the infirmary and retracing their earlier steps. They soon came across Gregory the Smarmy on the second floor.

Rodolphus grasped the statue's hand as if to shake it, but pulled back as if burned.

"It's off centre! But I'm sure we set it right earlier. It must have been turned a bit already," he hissed. "Someone's been here."

"Or someone is here."

"Potter," they both said at once.

"Has to be. Him and Black, or else all four," Rodolphus said. He took Gregory's hand as if in a handshake and twisted it to open the cleft. "If they're still inside we'll take them by surprise and hex them all. Come on!"

They slipped into the bituminous blackness and began to walk.

"What's that spell for lighting the end of my wand?" Rodolphus whispered.

"Lumos?" Severus' own wand lit up, splashing the rough walls with a dim but steady light. "Good thinking, Rodolphus," he whispered, and, feeling generous, added, "See, you're not such a dunce after all."

"Thanks, Sev," Rodolphus said sarcastically, but looked oddly gratified.

They advanced slowly, Severus' wandtip illuminating only a few feet of the passageway ahead of them. But they had been walking less than a minute when Rodolphus remarked, "Ugh, what's that stench?"

Severus sniffed the air. "Liquor—strong liquor." He smirked. "Smells like your mum."

"Hey! No wait, you're right actually. Who knew Potter drank Firewhiskey?"

"Hang on—Nox!" They were plunged back into blackness. Severus fumbled for Rodolphus' arm in the dark. "Listen!"

They stood stock-still and silent. Severus had heard faint scraping sounds ahead, and gradually they discerned the not-so-distant mewling of the school's most hated kitten. Then, to add to their utter horror, they heard Filch murmuring, "Yes, Mrs. Norris, the pub certainly was full tonight. A nice break from those boisterous little brats, though, wasn't it?"

Severus was petrified, but unfortunately Rodolphus wasn't. He jumped and hissed, "Filch!"

Filch immediately stopped whispering to his cat. He growled, with a tremor of panic in his voice, "Who's that? Who's there?"

With a little scratching sound, a small flame flared ahead of them in the tunnel, revealing Filch's sunken eyes and sour grimace only six feet away from them.

Severus' mind finally leaped back into gear and he cried, "Relashio!"

Red sparks shot from his wand straight at Filch, who yelped as he staggered backwards, unharmed but stunned, extinguishing the strange flame cupped in his hand.

In a flash of inspiration Severus shouted, "Run, Potter!" and they fled the way they had come, frightened by every shadow that was vaguely Filch-sized, not stopping till they were safely back in the common room.

"That was close," Severus panted, falling into an armchair.

"Sev, I could kiss you!" Rodolphus gasped, fervently embracing Severus. "You're the greatest person on the planet!"

It seemed their ruse had worked, for during the night there was no Filch suddenly bursting into the Slytherin common room screaming for their blood. Instead, at breakfast the next morning, the caretaker, wild-eyed and haggard, barrelled into the Great Hall and made straight for the Gryffindor table, where he sought out Potter and Black and seized them both by the scruff of their necks. Ignoring their frantic protests and the curious murmurs of the rest of the students, Filch hauled them to the head table and dropped them in front of Professor McGonagall.

"What is the meaning of this, Filch?" McGonagall demanded coldly, looking annoyed at having her morning perusal of the Daily Prophet interrupted.

"These two were out of bed at midnight, sneaking through a secret passageway," roared Filch. "It's lucky I caught the rogues when I did or they probably would have snuck out all the way to Hogsmeade—and when I surprised them in the passage, they hexed me and ran!"

"No, no, you've got the wrong blokes, we swear we weren't out of bed last night!" gasped Black. "We didn't hex anyone!"

"What proof do you have?" Potter challenged Filch from his awkward position half-lying on top of McGonagall's crumpled newspaper, his elbow stuck in her buttered toast.

"Proof?" Filch bellowed, glaring at him. "I heard you myself! You shouted, 'Run, Potter!' before you scarpered!" Potter went very pale.

"And there's only only one Potter here—you! And, since you're Potter's best mate," Filch went on, addressing Black, "you must have been the one with him, the one who attacked me!"

"But- but-" Black spluttered, flabbergasted.

"Now this is a lovely way to start the day," Bellatrix said cheerfully to Severus. "Out of bed at midnight, eh? I hope the punishment is death." Severus and Rodolphus exchanged conspiratorial grins.

"Is this true, Potter? Black?" Professor McGonagall asked sternly. Professor Dumbledore set down his teacup and began to observe the proceedings with detached interest.

"No!" Potter cried.

"We weren't out of bed," pleaded Black.

"I don't believe a word of it!" bellowed Filch. "Admit it, you were sneaking through the castle and you're both filthy little liars!"

"No, we're not lying!" Black cried desperately. Lupin and Pettigrew at the Gryffindor table looked like they were frantically trying to come up with an alibi to help their friends, but seemed to be drawing a blank.

"We weren't out of bed last night," Potter cried frantically, "I'm being set-"

The word 'up' froze on his lips as his eyes met Severus' across the Great Hall. Severus smiled widely and raised his goblet in salute. Potter was left with his mouth hanging open, staring mutely at Severus.

"Well?" Filch snarled, giving him a shove.

Potter snapped out of his trance and stared at Filch. "Yes, we're lying," he said abruptly.

"James?" Black said in horror.

"Yes, it's all lies," Potter said blandly to Professor McGonagall.

Black started to object, but Potter snapped, "Shut up, Sirius! Yes, we were out of bed and wandering round the secret passageways and attacking Filch and everything."

Rodolphus looked to Severus in mystification. "What, is he confessing now?"

"He's understood," Severus said with a smirk, "that he has no evidence on his side, while Filch would probably testify to the Wizengamot that he recognized their faces and voices last night, and believe it too. I suppose Potter thinks he's doing a noble thing by confessing outright instead of going through all the trouble of trying to implicate us. Taking his lumps, tradition of Gryffindor bravery and so on."

"He's doing a stupid thing, that's for certain," Rodolphus said. Petula threw them a questioning glance and they smiled back innocently.

"Potter, Black, I would never have expected Gryffindors to pull a stunt like this," McGonagall chided them. "Sneaking out of bed, trying to slip out of the castle, attacking Mr. Filch—did you really think you would get away with it?"

"Yes," Potter said flatly. He seemed determined to acquiesce to whatever they accused him of, to get away from them quickly.

"James, what-" Black began, looking alarmed, but McGonagall cut him off by declaring, "Twenty points from each of you!"

"No!" Black exclaimed. Potter remained mutinously silent.

"And detention," McGonagall said.

"Fine," Potter responded.

"With Mr. Filch," Dumbledore interjected mildly.

The Gryffindors jumped. "No, please, Professor!" Potter said, looking panicked for the first time.

"You gave him quite a scare," Dumbledore said, raising his eyebrows. Was it Severus' imagination, or did Dumbledore's piercing gaze shift momentarily from Potter to him? "But he deserves the same respect as any other member of the Hogwarts staff."

There was no mistaking it now, he had definitely glanced at Severus. Did the Headmaster know who had really been sneaking out of bed? If he did, he gave no overt sign, continuing calmly, "Therefore, it is only fair that you do your detentions with Mr. Filch."

They both stared at him, horror-struck, while Filch rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "You may return to your seats," Dumbledore added.

Potter and Black slunk back to the Gryffindor table, to the excited murmurs of the other students. Severus and Rodolphus discreetly clinked their goblets.

"So the tunnel did lead to Hogsmeade," Rodolphus whispered as the meal resumed.

"And the pub Filch went to could have been the Hog's Head," Severus said excitedly, "there can't be that many pubs in a little village."

"We've got a lot of things to figure out before Hallowe'en, Sev," Rodolphus said. "First we've got to find another secret passage to Hogsmeade. Once that's done, we can worry about how we're going to hide from Malfoy and Jugson."

"If we put some toast in our pockets we can skip lunch and explore the castle."

Double Herbology was disastrous. On top of Petula's hat being devoured by a Fanged Geranium, the nickname 'Snivellus' had got round the whole school by now, and it seemed to Severus that the greenhouse and the whole castle were full of whispers and mocking laughter.

Not only that, but Professor Sprout was extremely upset. She kept interrupting her lesson to dab her eyes and blow her nose, but she wouldn't tell them what was wrong. Finally she gave up with trying to teach and let them go early, handing them back an essay as they left. After a satisfied glance at the expected '10/10, Excellent!' scrawled across the top of his essay, Severus had snuck a look at Rodolphus' paper. Rodolphus had, after a bleak stare, crumpled it up and stuffed in his bag. Four and a half.

After Herbology, the two boys went down to the Great Hall for lunch with everyone else, but they hid in an anteroom until they were certain everyone had gone in; then they cautiously exited into the empty Entrance Hall and began to search for secret rooms and secret passageways.

They thought they had hit paydirt when Severus pulled down on a torch bracket in the Entrance Hall and a section of the wall slid aside with a creaking groan, as if it had not been opened in a long time.

A gust of cool wind slipped into the Entrance Hall as the secret door scraped open. Severus and Rodolphus stared down into the darkness.

"There's a bit of light down there," Rodolphus remarked. "Maybe it leads outside!"

"Why? There's a pair of perfectly serviceable doors right here. No, it must be something else."

The wall started to move back into place. Instinct pushed them forward, and the wall sealed them into the passageway.

"Lumos." Severus' wandtip illuminated a flight of stone steps, curving away sharply towards the light down below them. They moved downstairs slowly. A cool breeze kissed their cheeks.

"I think you're right, it does lead outside!" The light was brighter. Severus extinguished his wandtip and they hurried towards the end of the tunnel.

Suddenly they reached the end, and stopped short.

"Cool," said Rodolphus.

Severus simply stared, bereft of speech.

The tunnel led from the Entrance Hall straight into the side of the cliffs on which the castle perched. They were standing in a cave that was seemingly bored directly into the cliff face, five hundred feet above a mass of jagged rocks. Before them lay the green wilds of the Hogwarts grounds, sprawling and sleek under a grey sky. The sun, weak and wan, occasionally found the strength to stab through the clouds, creating shafts of light, scattered over the rolling countryside. From this height Severus could even make out the dark shadow of the giant squid swimming restlessly in the lake.

"Rather nice up here, isn't it?" said Rodolphus brightly.

"It's… it's…" For once words failed Severus. All the adjectives in his head seemed too feeble.

"But it doesn't lead anywhere," Rodolphus sighed, oblivious to Severus' awe. "Let's go."

Severus reluctantly dragged himself away from the view, promising himself he would come back sometime—alone.

When they emerged to the empty Entrance Hall, Rodolphus proposed that they move on to the dungeons. But when they got lost in the maze of dim, damp corridors and finally ended up at the entrance to their own common room, they gave up and dispiritedly climbed the stairs to the Entrance Hall again.

Then Rodolphus pointed out the door on the other side of the marble staircase.

"I've never been down there," he said brightly. "Let's try that."

They proceeded through the door and down the flight of stone stairs behind it, and discovered a wide, brightly lit corridor quite unlike the labyrinth through which the Slytherin common room was reached. Large paintings of foods adorned the walls.

"Maybe there's a door behind one of these paintings," Rodolphus said hopefully.

"How will we know how to get through?" wondered Severus, disconsolately.

They tried everything: prodding the paintings with their wands, putting a foot up to the canvas to see if they could step through, prying behind the frames and trying to pull them out like doors. They only succeeded in putting several shoeprints on the paintings, hurting their fingers, and making a roast chicken leap up in annoyance and scurry off its plate. Then, as Severus was attempting to peel the canvas of a painting of a bowl of fruit back from the gilt-edged frame, he thought he heard a tiny giggle.

"What-?" He ran his hand over the painting again, and a green pear began unmistakably to chortle. "Hey—Rodolphus! Look at this!"

Rodolphus turned as Severus gently tickled the pear, and to their surprise it turned into a door handle.

They looked at each other in excitement. Severus seized the pear-shaped handle and twisted it, and the painting swung open to reveal a high-ceilinged chamber, full of bustling little house-elves all wearing identical neat tea-towels bearing the Hogwarts crest.

"The kitchens!" Severus exclaimed.

The sound of his voice attracted the attention of the house-elves, who immediately rushed forth and swarmed them, cheery and eager to please.

"Can we get you something, sirs? Anything at all, sirs?"

"Fancy a cup of tea, Severus?" Rodolphus asked. The words were barely out of his mouth before a tea-tray was racing towards them, borne by six thrilled little elves.

Severus stared. He'd seen his family's house-elves only once before, when he'd had to seek their aid after Vanishing his legs by mistake. They'd been delighted to do it, of course, but apart from that one occasion, he'd never really given a thought to where his puddings came from or who pressed his shirts. And even at home there were only about half a dozen of them. Seeing these hundreds of house-elves all milling about, cooking and baking and serving on the golden platters set on four long preparation tables, was rather daunting.

"Get me some roast chicken or I'll box your ears," Rodolphus commanded the elf who was pouring his tea. "We've missed lunch and our jaunt's made us peckish."

No sooner had he spoken than he was handed an enormous plate of roast chicken by a beaming elf, who seemed perfectly undisturbed by his abuse. Though Rodolphus was the type of person who viewed the very sun and moon as his chattels, Severus could not help but be surprised by his abusive attitude towards the house-elves.

"Are you really meant to boss them around like that?" he asked Rodolphus uncertainly.

"Of course! What, you've never seen your mother training the hired help? I've seen mine, and compared to her I must seem gentle as a lamb. Biscuits!" he shouted suddenly, and almost instantly an elf appeared with a plateful of biscuits.

"Good service," Rodolphus admitted, and the elves squealed in elation. "Go on, Sev, aren't you hungry? I'm sure you could manage a slice of stoat and glossop pie."

At his words, the entire kitchen fell silent. Suddenly every single elf was staring at them. Severus and Rodolphus froze, taken aback.

One house-elf approached them slowly and whispered, "Did sir say stoat and glossop pie?"

Rodolphus nodded warily. The house-elves looked at Severus in awe.

"It's him! It's him!" they whispered excitedly.

"We is begging your pardon, sir," squeaked the first elf, "but we is making our stoat pie with soft-boiled glossops since 1671, and you is the only one in the school who is ever eating this dish!"

"Not even Hagrid is touching it!" cried another.

"Fancy that," Rodolphus said through a mouthful of chicken, "you're a celebrity here. I'm thisty!" he snapped at a nearby elf, who was only too happy to oblige him with a drink.

Severus had not thought it possible for the elves to become more subservient, but they did, repeatedly bowing so low their long noses scraped the floor. He stared as a large serving of pie sped towards him, with heaps of chocolate éclairs and peppermint humbugs on the side.

"Oh no, look! They're serving the desserts," Rodolphus said, pointing to the cakes that were vanishing through the ceiling from the golden platters of the preparation tables. "Lunch is almost over. We ought to go back to the common room."

They hurriedly finished their tea and Severus scarfed down the pie, to the thrilled squeaks of the house-elves. Then the elves loaded them down with sweets and cakes, begged them to return soon, and bowed them out of the kitchens, with promises of stoat pie appearing at the Slytherin table as often as possible.

"Strange little creatures, aren't they?" Severus said wonderingly as they walked through the Entrance Hall and down into their side of the dungeons. "I can't imagine spending my whole life serving people—and enjoying it."

"That's a rather repulsive thought," agreed Rodolphus. "What are you going to do then, after Hogwarts and everything? Something intellectual, no doubt."

Severus considered this. "Maybe I'll be an Auror or something."

Rodolphus grimaced. "Ugh! I'll never be an Auror."

"Why not? I like curses and it sounds exciting—and prestigious."

"Yeah, well, I reckon I'm more on the supply side of crime. Think about it, would you really want to be running round after people all the time? They'll be having all the fun and you have to clean up their messes. And think about it. Do you really want to become Astaroth?"

Severus laughed. "Ugh! Well, if I'm not going to be an Auror, what am I going to be? A Ministry lackey?"

"Definitely not a Quidditch player," Rodolphus grinned, poking him in the ribs where the bandages were still wrapped. He brightened. "Maybe I can be a Quidditch player! I'm good at flying. You can be…"

He considered for a moment. "A teacher. That would be good, wouldn't it? You're an insupportable know-it-all and you like telling people off. I'm just joking, Sev."

"Ha, ha," Severus sneered. "Why don't I be Minister for Magic?"

"No, I want to be that! You can have Dumbledore's job—Headmaster of Hogwarts. Lux lucida."

The stone wall slid back and they entered the common room to find the rest of the first years already there. Bellatrix set a tapestry on fire when she saw them.

"Where have the pair of you been? You missed lunch!"

"Snape has crumbs on his mouth," Avery said.

"We were doing homework," Severus said quickly, slipping his sleeve rather uncouthly across his lips. "In the library."

"What, and Madam Pince snuck you a plate of biscuits for being frequent customers?" quipped Maud.

"Oh look, it's time for Potions!" Rodolphus said loudly. "Right, we're off then."

In the afternoon Potions class the Slytherins were particularly sour with the Gryffindors. Each of them, with one exception, was trying to think of a way to collectively humiliate the Gryffindors in revenge for Severus' new nickname. The one exception was Severus himself, who was daydreaming how he would go about pickling Sirius Black's head in a jar.

As a result of all this cerebral activity on the part of the students who were usually provokers, the class was unusually subdued. This caused some anxiety for Professor Marchbanks, who suspected the Slytherins of plotting something big—which they were; which consternation wholly occupied the poor old witch's thoughts and prevented her from noticing Remus Lupin's carelessly throwing a handful of porcupine quills into a volatile potion until it had exploded all over himself and his partner Rodolphus.

Both boys screamed as they were coated in scalding orange goo.

"Oh no!" Professor Marchbanks rushed over. "Oh boys, what have you done?"

"They added porcupine quills," Severus said absently.

"No, it was nettles," said Maud Wilkes.

Severus stared at her, puzzled. "Porcupine quills."

"Nettles," replied Maud calmly, "I'm sure it was. At least, I think so."

Professor Marchbanks was looking between fretfully. "Oh dear, didn't anyone see what it was?"

"I think you'd better go along with them to the hospital wing, Professor, since we're not sure what they added," said Maud, sounding suspiciously reasonable. Severus opened his mouth to protest—he was sure it had been porcupine quills—but Maud silenced with him a look. She was clearly up to something.

Seizing an armful of bottles from a shelf, Professor Marchbanks hustled the wounded from the room, crying, "Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey and I will soon have you healed up! The rest of you just keep working quietly here." She ran out.

The click of the door shutting seemed like a signal for the class to start chatting and ignore their potions.

"You don't think Remus got burned really badly, do you?" Peter Pettigrew said worriedly. "He was already looking rather poorly. I think he's got the flu."

"Who are you, his mother?" Sirius Black laughed. "He's fine. It's Lestrange I'm worried about—if his good looks are permanently damaged what would he have to offer Bellatrix?"

"He'd still be better looking than you," Bellatrix retorted, furious and flushed.

"Hey Black, Potter, nice work on old Filchy last night," called Priya Sinque, a pureblood Indian Gryffindor.

The other Gryffindors chimed in with their excited praise. Severus noticed Lily Evans stayed silent. She was the only one still working on her and Maud Wilkes' potion. But even Avery and Petula were looking grudgingly awed. Black grinned and nodded. Potter smiled briefly and looked across to Severus, who was beginning to wonder if maybe framing Black and Potter hadn't been so clever after all. They were being lauded as heroes for supposedly doing something that Severus realized was the secret wish of every student and many teachers at Hogwarts.

Not only that, but the nickname 'Snivellus' had really caught on by now, even with people he didn't even know. Everyone but the Slytherins was whispering it and giggling when he passed in the halls, his cheeks burning. But he consoled himself with the thought of the horrible things Filch would make them suffer as part of their detention. However much he might want glory and popularity, it was definitely not worth spending an hour with Filch.

"Thanks, thanks," Black said, waving his hand modestly. "It was nothing."

Of course it was bloody nothing, you didn't actually do it, Severus was on the verge of snarling, but he kept his mouth shut. Potter was staring at him.

Bellatrix gave a bark of laughter like a cackle. "I cannot believe you two idiots could do something so marvellous as hexing Filch, I really can't!"

"I'm a Gryffindor! We're famous for our bravery," Black said arrogantly.

"Brave, you? Have you forgotten that you're scared of the dark?"

"That was ages ago," Black interjected, reddening. "And you're just jealous you didn't do it yourself!"

"Yes, you're actually right," said Bellatrix thoughtfully. "But really, how does taking by surprise a man armed with nothing but a kitten qualify as bravery?"

"Rather seems like cowardice to me," drawled Maud Wilkes. "It was, after all, two against one. Unless you count the kitten."

"It's Filch," Pettigrew cried out, surprising all of them. He turned pink and murmured, "It was brave."

"Of course," Maud said placidly.

Affronted, Pettigrew snapped, "What do you know? You weren't there!"

"Neither were you!" retorted Maud. Pettigrew fell silent. "So where wereyou, Pettigrew, you and Lupin, while your two friends were assailing the caretaker?"

"I…" Pettigrew looked helplessly to his friends.

"We didn't want to wake you and Remus," Potter said stiffly. "It was… too dangerous."

Pettigrew looked hurt. "I'm a Gryffindor too. I could have helped."

"Good God, how many of you so-called heroes does it take to assault one man?" Maud exclaimed. "You should try again tonight. Maybe if all of you go, you'll manage to kill him."

Lily Evans suddenly slammed her textbook on the tabletop. "Enough!"

Everyone jumped about a foot into the air. Lily glared at them over her bubbling cauldron.

"Enough with all this house rubbish! Everyone is as brave as everyone else. Peter, stop taking Wilkes' bait, she's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"Well, I seem to have hit the wrong target," Maud said, staring at Lily in mild amazement. "So, everyone is equally brave?"

"Suicidal is a better word," Lily said, shooting dark looks at Potter and Black. "It was stupid to attack Filch. And it's absolutely ridiculous for anyone to wish they had been there." She glared at Pettigrew, who trembled. "Of course foolishness and suicidal tendencies don't seem limited to certain houses." She looked at Bellatrix, who stared steadily back.

"Then you don't believe in house-specific qualities," Maud said, probing. "Gryffindors are just as clever as Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs as ambitious as Slytherins, et cetera."

"Yes, I suppose so." Lily was growing wary.

"So according to you, there's no such thing as Gryffindor bravery?" Maud asked with something like triumph in her voice.

Lily stared at her. "Well… Look, that's not fair!"

"Yeah, that's a loaded question," Black said. "If she says no, you'll say she's a disgrace to her house, and if she says yes, you'll say-"

"Prove it," Maud finished.

Lily scowled into the cauldron between them while the other Gryffindors exchanged glances.

Maud was grinning.

"I tell you what," she said, leaning back casually in her chair. "I suppose you all noticed Professor Sprout was very upset this morning. I've found out why: it seems her white cat Ned has run away—apparently he was involved in an altercation with Mrs. Norris and lost."

"Hey, a catfight!" Rosier said.

Maud smiled thinly. "Right, Evan. So, Lily, all you have to do is bring in poor little Ned tomorrow morning, and we'll believe you Gryffindors are all equally brave, or equally suicidal, whatever."

Lily frowned. "What's the catch?"

"Oh, didn't I mention," Maud's smile widened, "that Ned was last seen running into the Forbidden Forest?"

There was a collective gasp. Lily went as white as her namesake. Potter protested, "Now wait a minute! The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason! There are all sorts of dangerous creatures in there!"

"Of course there are," Maud agreed. "Otherwise it wouldn't be much of a challenge, would it?"

"But-"

"Shut up, Potter," Lily interrupted. "I'll do it."

"When?" Maud asked.

"Tonight."

"But there's a full moon tonight!" Pettigrew said, his eyes wide as dinner plates. "Everyone knows during the full moon all the monsters get a little bit worse-"

"Excellent," Maud said brightly, reaching out to shake Lily's hand.

"Hang on," Avery burst out. "She could just get Hagrid to catch the cat for her. How will we know she's really been in the Dark Forest?"

"One of us will have to go with her," Rosier said ominously.

There was a pause as the Slytherins' eyes darted back and forth but no one was volunteering. Lily looked cautiously relieved.

Something hot and angry stirred within Severus. She's not getting off that easy, he thought, and before he knew it he'd opened his mouth like a fool.

"For Merlin's sake, I'll go," he exploded.

Lily stared at him for a second, almost as if she were sizing him up; then she seized Maud's hand and shook it.

"Deal."