A/N: I am making no profit from this, and I do not intend any copyright infringement. JKR owns everything you don't recognise, blah blah, etc.

Welcome, guys! Hopefully (very hopefully), I'll be able to post this before the move and the subsequent holiday I'll be having with my anti-Potter family. If not, well – you'll probably get the next chapter as well, at the same time.

NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Well, I obviously didn't, did I? Ah well. This one has been long in the coming. If any of you know or know of junediamenti on LJ, be sure to thank her for this chapter – her essay on WiPs really helped to get me started again, I can tell you.

In this chapter, Tobias is reminded of his true purpose at Hogwarts. Oh, and warnings – sexual and wanking references ahoy.

Chapter 3: Happenings

Two weeks into the Summer term, Tobias came to a startling realisation – he had settled, against all odds, into life in Slytherin. The thought particularly struck him this morning as he felt the soothing tendrils of sleep leave his body, leaving him drowsy and somehow sated –

And then the headache started again, and he felt the first part of his morning cheer dissolve away. Clenching his teeth, he turned over, beating viciously at his pillow. He'd taken the last full dose of the Oppilavi potion, what – five, six days ago? The slight, disturbing pressure at the back of his head had begun then, but he'd refused to admit his insecurity with the established plan to gradually stop taking the mind-blocking potion – Severus simply could not make it now or continue to do so forever without bringing undue scrutiny to all his actions, and Tobias certainly could not take it forever.

Tobias scowled sourly into his pillow. He'd not taken into account the return of the fleeting, ominous dreams, or the persistent, dull headaches that took hold of his head at least half of the time he was awake. It was bearable, only just, and yet Severus had assured him it would dull with time. And if anyone knew about constantly keeping up defences, it was his uncle.

But that wasn't what bothered Toby so much about the whole thing – the pain wasn't life-altering or brain-function-stopping. What really got to him was the return of that odd, fragmented feeling. It meant Voldemort was back in his head – back in the picture. That Toby would have to exercise even greater caution with his thoughts.

That he was no longer free.

Sighing heavily, Toby rolled over so he could see the dim wood of the ceiling above him. He missed the boring, dreary simplicity of Snape Manor so much – missed the freedom of thought and expression like it was part of his skin. Being in Slytherin was not as hard as he'd thought it'd be – what with all the careful insinuation and set goals he could focus on, it now felt more like a game or an extremely involving school project than anything else. But with the Oppilavi potion fading slowly from his life – he was only taking one-fifths of a dose, now – the game was becoming very daunting and very serious indeed.

Toby closed his eyes. Perhaps he'd been wrong about what the worst thing in his life right now really was. What seemed, more and more, to take the cake was that he couldn't really feel safe in his uncle's office any more. Talking to Severus, now, was becoming increasingly part of the whole complex little act they were trying to pull off, and less of a cathartic, frantic sort of melee that left Toby feeling truly – he grimaced to himself embarrassedly – argued-out.

Aruged-out, indeed – only a Snape –

Master, welcome. A dry hiss interrupted his half-gloomy, half-joking introspection, emanating from somewhere under the covers to his left. Warm scales slithered a little heavily across the skin of his lower arms, and Iona poked her pretty black head from underneath his duvet, in what had quickly become her favourite region – his left armpit. Toby couldn't help smiling as he struggled to sit up and haul her now not-so-little body into his lap. She'd always greeted him like this whenever he woke up – some sort of snake thing –

And, looking downwards at Iona's supposed resting place, his small smile of fondness turned rapidly to one of embarrassment, because –

Tobias cleared his thoughts. Wood. Morning wood – go onto my arm, Iona. There you go – left one, that's it –

Christ but it's been a while since this happened, he thought furiously, fighting a hot blush as Iona gratefully wound her heavier body up his left arm. It felt a bit stupid not – well – sharing the idea of this with her in some way, as she was his familiar, and –

No bloody way. No bloody way he was answering blunt snakelike questions about his half-hard 'lump', not now, not this morning. Iona continued to hiss her sleepy gratitude, nudging her head uncomfortably hard into his left armpit, as usual. It would just – just be so damn embarrassing, telling her he had 'little problems' in the morning (well, not so little) nowadays. Warning her to keep her inquisitive tongue to herself –

Ugh. Just – ugh. Never mind the fact that his stupid cock was hardening because of some unheard-of parity that related having Iona licking him (God, the idea made him cringe) and having someone else's pink little tongue down there, along with a pink mouth, freckly little breasts bobbing prettily as her head bobbed up and down, red hair flying loose of that damned ponytail, and –

Stop that, he told himself automatically, shifting his fingers out of his pyjama bottoms. Half-glaring down at his lump – which seemed to have doubled in size, due to his traitorous brain's little journey into an imaginary land where Ginny was right here in his bed, slurping expertly at him, brown eyes brimming with lust, telling him he had to be quiet, because she'd taken down the Silencing Charm, and couldn't stay long, and was gulping him down greedily, and – get a hold of it – of your co – your self, damnit. Cast a bloody Silencing Spell, at least, you horny git –

"Deprimo clamor," Tobias whispered hastily, thighs trembling excitedly. This, within the Slytherin hangings, in the Slytherin boys dorms, just felt so illicit – Iona?

I want to sleep. If you are bent on scratching yourself, please put me in my basket, she retorted sleepily, making Toby burn in embarrassment – that was pretty close to what he was doing, scratching a veritable itch –

It took far less time than Toby thought it would to carefully stash her away in the basket under his bed, reinforcing the Warming Charm when she complained loudly. And then he was back in the warm green nest of blankets, tugging down his pyjama bottoms and exposing himself, and feeling unspeakably dirty about the whole thing as he constructed a foolishly elaborate fantasy of Ginny, Ginny's red hair, Ginny's freckled body, counting freckles, having her count his scars with her tongue, and – very suddenly – curly hair bobbing above his hard prick, and – "Oh – " – his fist slowed as he milked himself hard, liking the odd way he was now so sensitive down there, and – Merlin that hit the spot – ah – yes –

Hot, slightly clammy with sweat and sticky with his own come, Toby let himself fall back to the bed as he rapidly cleared up the mess. He wasn't sure he wanted to think about that last little vignette, but it was already expressing itself in his muddled, satiated thoughts. Curly, too-curly hair, hiding the girl's face from him – he was sort of twitching again thinking about it. But why? And where on earth had his overheated brain concocted that fantasy, anyway? Ginny's inaccessible, untouchable pinkness was usually enough.

Then, as Tobias heard Blaise's shrilly alarm come to life, he connected it. Slytherin – the mysterious girl within his hangings, sucking (he blushed) him off, hard, while everyone was asleep. It sort of fit in with the dirty things he'd had chasing themselves within his mind, especially the (he blushed again) scenario with Ginny. Toby rolled his eyes at himself.

So I like mystery, he thought, carefully putting away his spent – but oddly interested – prick before readying his Morning Scowl. So what? I'm overanalysing, like Severus does.

And with that thought came the utterly hilarious image of his visibly stiff, uncomfortable uncle trying to inquire into his sex life. Or, even more hilarious, Severus telling him awkwardly to feel free with himself again, despite the awful experiences at the hand of – right, no murderous impulses in the mornings –

With that, he forcibly forgot the mystery curls and the mystery girl attached to them, and ducked out of the curtains surrounding his bed, pausing for a moment to retrieve an awakened Iona. Once her weight had begun that odd disappearing thing – Dumbledore had said sometime in the Manor that some strongly bonded familiars had that ability – Toby got out of bed. He had some male Slytherins to unnerve this morning – they'd been getting awfully complacent with his personality, hadn't they?

It helped, of course, that Iona had sworn him to give her another shower with him, after the first one he'd taken with her a week or so ago, thoroughly frightening his dorm mates. And it was even more amusing to see the panic in their eyes as Draco almost plaintively voiced that he'd thought the first shower was a one-time thing. Toby answered him easily. Even happily –

"She likes showers," he said, shrugging off the towel inside the cubicle and sending it over to his usual hook on the opposite wall with a flick and swish. "She gets a bit restless when she doesn't get one in a while, no idea why…"

Toby fought back a smile, now, as he entered the shower room only to hear the sound of what was unmistakably a frightened yelp. From who, he did not know – but it certainly made up for the dulling headache that was plaguing him.

Perhaps today wouldn't be so bad after all.

Two hours later and thirty minutes into a Transfiguration class, Toby was ready to rescind, curse and otherwise utterly reject that statement as Professor McGonagall continued her stern, hard-faced lecture on Animagus-related spells. He'd raced down to the dorms to check on Iona on a whim and been delayed by a stammering Hannah Abbott on his way up asking, of all the things, what his favourite drink was. He'd been too stunned to reply properly, embarrassment leaking into his face as students passing them simply stared, and had volunteered a rude, slightly sneering, meaningless comment in reply, hurrying away as soon as he could. It was madness on her part, of course – wholly Dumbledore's fault, for announcing so far ahead of time that the Hogsmeade weekend would be replaced by an early 'Summer Party'. Even now, looking round at the joint class, he could see one or two Ravenclaw girls surreptitiously trying to catch his eye, and Hannah blushed horribly as he accidentally caught her eye.

Stabbing a bit violently at the parchment before him, he lowered his eyes to his desk, only to be reminded, by a low, snide comment, that Draco Malfoy was really sitting beside him. Tobias closed his eyes briefly, cursing inwardly as he replied to Draco's bald comment about McGonagall with a non-committal sound. He'd managed, only just, to convince himself that Draco wasn't there, but the bastard seemed to feel an urgent need to constantly announce his presence in some way.

Toby sighed lowly to himself, copying down the details of the spell McGonagall was lecturing on – one to search for the form of your Animagus, or something like that. At least he knew he wouldn't be going to any bloody 'Summer Party'. None of the massive, planned Order raids was happening around then, thankfully – Severus had only said there was a possibility of one occurring sometime within a week, but nothing about one happening in three, which was when the stupid Party would take place.

And even if there was some raid happening then, there really had to be some other way of –

"Right, class. I have set pairs for you to work in, and the exercise is within your book, at page 507. When I call out your name and that of your partner, you will find your pairs and begin immediately – "

Tobias sat up slightly, listening out for his name, hoping against hope that he'd not be forced to work with Malfoy, or – he swallowed – even worse, Ron. He hadn't had the misfortune in any class so far, for no reason he could think of, and was not keen in the least to sit beside familiar red hair and those freckled hands and not be able to be himself –

"…Greengrass and Nott, Snape and Davis, Malfoy and Zabini. Get to work, immediately." Professor McGonagall's stern mien ensured near-immediate obedience from all of the mixed, sullen class. The sixth years grumbled and murmured around him as they switched places and began to work on the testing process. For a split second, he couldn't even remember Davis was a girl, or that –

Right, there she is – Toby thought absently, then suddenly realised – Curly hair. Dear god –

Later, he would remember almost scrambling to his feet to move to the empty place beside her just as she was rising from her table near the back of the class, a worried look on her face. The entire class would remember that he got up suddenly, stretching languidly as he made his way over to the table of the doomed girl, flashing down a quick smile at a comment from Theo as he passed him by.

Of course, Toby was barely aware of what his face was doing, his head was in such a tumult. Embarrassment seemed to be flooding his entire being as he slipped casually into the seat beside Davis, whose first name he suddenly realised he did not know.

"I don't think I've ever spoken to you before," he said almost teasingly, thanking his stars for the special lesson his uncle had given him almost four weeks ago. Speaking Under Duress, it had been called. And that was absolutely appropriate at the moment, for Toby's throat was tight, the scars in the small of his back were itching horribly, and his face felt like it had 'Horny Little Bastard' tattooed across it in fetching red, and –

"Er, no," Curly Hair said quietly, voice low, entire frame practically radiating nervousness. "My name's Tracey. Davis, as you've probably guessed," she continued, meekly stretching out a hand for him to shake, as if he'd eat it or something.

"Interesting," Toby found himself saying, also teasingly, fighting not to stroke her hand. At this rate, he'd be hard again within the hour, because she actually had a nice voice, and the slight accent her words carried didn't help matters either – "Well. Shall we get going?"

Dull green eyes met his and flicked away in a show of nervousness, but even the short, guilt-tinged glimpse into the outwardly meek student's mind was illuminating. Far more calculation under that curly hair than there looked to be on the outside, he was almost sure of it. Then Professor McGonagall was barking at someone nearby, and the need to at least look like they were doing something somehow precipitated a still clearly nervous Tracey into asking him to go first.

Toby smiled, a small, private one he was nearly unaware of, and smoothly extended the invitation back to her, lolling easily back in his chair. He'd never 'gone first' in any introspective activity they'd performed in any class so far, and didn't intend to start –

"Compertus animagus…" Tracey's intonation was strong, without hesitation, as she calmly waved the wand in an elaborate pattern that ended up with the business end facing herself. Her eyelids fluttered close to cover almost startled eyes, and she began to slump forward. Tobias, though loathe to touch her because of his growing predicament, caught her around the shoulders without much difficulty, almost not hearing McGonagall's distant-sounding voice in the background.

"…yes, that's it, Miss Brown…you should feel a sinking sensation…please support your partner properly, Mr. Goldstein…"

Tracey's breaths in and out were coming more rapidly, her cheeks reddening as if with some invisible effort, and her hair was everywhere – in Tobias' face, floating haphazardly against his neck, just getting in the way of his smelling her sharp scent –

Wait a bloody minute, you randy idiot –

Fighting back a blush, Tobias manoeuvred Tracey into leaning somehow against his shoulder, ignoring the puzzled looks they were getting from everyone else, who seemed to be rousing from their magical slumbers rather rapidly. Several girls seemed to sigh, drawing an involuntary scowl to his face as he glanced hastily down at the twitching girl beside him, wondering if she would just wake up and give over torturing him already –

"Good," McGonagall's voice made him start, coming from so close by. "It's been so many years since I've had someone go that deep. Perhaps Miss Davis has found her – "

But no one heard what Miss Davis was likely to find, for she began to stir that very moment, head turning interestingly on Tobias' shoulder and making him stupidly wonder if somehow her lips would come in contact with any of his skin, and – shut up, just shut up, you.

Tracey started away from him in the next moment, blinking hard, features oddly hard as she embarrassedly retrieved her wand, which had dropped to the floor just below her desk.

"So, Miss Davis?" McGonagall said, looking oddly excited. "Did you see anything…?" Silence broke into excited whispers as Tracey nodded her head slowly, a dazed sort of blush forming on her cheeks again. "Good – good – meet me after class, will you?" After a hesitant nod from Tracey, the professor flitted over to another pair of students where one was just waking from the slumber, and Tobias' moment had come.

He rubbed ruefully at his neck, half-wishing he would be awake for when Tracey held on to him and half thinking he was really very horny to be going on about some girl's daft hair for so long – "Compertus animagus," he said, forestalling his longing as he flicked easily through the wand pattern, now curious as to what he would see –

Darkness hit him abruptly, so that the feeling of his wand in his hand disappeared almost instantaneously, making him panic with no real reason to –

"…I do not wish to hear your plaintive drivel, Wormtail," a high, all-too-familiar voice was saying, through his mouth, horrifyingly – "You will decipher the contents of that book or die. It is really as simple as that." He could almost feel himself standing, and it wasn't right because he was in class and he didn't want this to happen, not now, not – "Crucio – you must learn – "

Darkness seemed to whirl in again, like a heavy, dampening blanket, drowning out the sound of the water of Tobias' frantic Occlumency as he somehow found himself drifting, drifting in a barren, void place that seemed to close in about him, tighter, closer, worse than the cell –

I've had enough, he seethed to himself, terror dancing in limbs he could not feel as the walls of the place drew in. Enough!

ENOUGH –

His eyes opened suddenly, almost blinding him with light as he fought the impulse to pick up his wand and curse everything in sight, to unleash the hot, seething magic within –

"Jaysus, would you calm down – " Tracey's almost desperate voice sounded sharply in his ear just as the feeling of his arms and the arms around him came into being, and he stilled, because he could faintly remember he'd been in a class – some class –

"Mister Snape, control yourself this instant!" Oh – Transfiguration… Professor McGonagall's voice truly startled him into lucidity, and he realised dimly that his scar was burning, and realised his hand was moving to where it was supposed to be on his face, and –

"What happened?" Tracey's voice had withdrawn somewhat from its former position almost in his ear, and it was bizarrely comforting to realise her arms were still about him, despite his – his –

Oh god – if I said anything –

"I'm all right," he said thickly, blinking hard, taking deep breaths as quietly as possible, warmth and reasoning flowing back into his brain even as that malevolent section in the back of his mind seethed, fighting against the water of his determined Occlumency.

"Really?" she said again, sounding puzzled and looking very matter-of-fact. "Well, look on the bright side, you didn't scream or anything – I nearly did…"

"Mister Snape, what on earth can you have been thinking?" McGonagall sputtered, coming round to glare directly at him from the side. "I'm sure you performed the wand movements incorrectly, I've never seen such an effect before – "

"Does it work like some sort of trance?" Toby cut in, none too politely, blinking hard against the sharp edges of the headache that was thundering through his head at the moment. "Does it?"

"At this level," McGonagall said, eyes hard, "you should know what spells include – "

"If it does," Toby persisted, rising almost shakily to his feet, face set into a blank, hostile mask as he whisked together his things, "I'll need to go to the hospital wing. I don't do trances, they just don't work for me – "

"At this level," McGonagall said, lips dangerously thin, voice low with anger, "you should know what spells include trances, if they affect you so. Perhaps you were distracted?" She shot a cold look in the paling Tracy's direction, and Tobias felt himself heat up with the injustice of the comment, but refused to let anything pass his lips, except –

"If you wish to punish me, Professor, for…forgetting," he inclined his head towards her as insultingly as he knew how, "be kind enough to take it up with my uncle. If you will excuse me." He gave a mocking bow, accompanied by an equally mocking, polite little smile, and swept out of the room with the ease and carriage of a king.

Not more than ten or fifteen paces away, he ducked into an empty classroom and conjured a small glass bottle and began to think as hard as he could of his little experience. Extracting the memory was a relief – as if the water he'd used to fight his way out of the deadly trance had seeped into it, made it more impersonal somehow, and, as always, just before closing the bottle, Tobias could not help debating with himself as to whether Severus was really right about not being able to just – just empty himself of everything, of – of –

He closed it very quickly. He just had to deliver this, then go to the Hospital Wing just in case that – that cow checked, later.

Honestly, right now, he wouldn't put it past her to check such a thing and punish him for it, and wouldn't put it past almost every one of his former professors to do the same. Toby sighed – he supposed it came with the territory of this face, this identity. A year ago he'd have gone round the bend by now, just putting up with the intrigue and suspicion swimming thick in the air around him, but now –

A ghost of a smile flitted across Tobias' face. Now, existing in the fog and shadow of Slytherin and Snape was almost…natural.

Almost.

Less than an hour later, Toby found himself whistling lowly as he trod the steps of the staircase that led up to the Great Hall. His headache was gone, courtesy some skilful uncle-guilting, and his skin glowed with the aftermath of activity (courtesy of some skilful uncle-baiting and the rather violent results of that skill), and he felt a little more at peace.

His hair could definitely use a wash, but it didn't really do to worry about his bloody hair getting greasy when he was in such a good mood. Really, it didn't.

Entering the Great Hall just then was like entering a sea of noise and rumour and where has he been and what has he been doing and why is he so late to lunch. Every day seemed to get a little worse that way, with Tobias practically able to feel the stares sliding on and off his body, nowadays. But just now he didn't have the heart to feel disgusted or weary or afraid he looked like an idiot swaggering the Snape way over to the Slytherin table to slide into the first empty seat he could find. He just felt alive, aggressively alive, and somehow calm, and a little more hopeful that he hadn't already blown his chance for some shred of normality at Hogwarts just because he hadn't been quick on the uptake in class.

Toby sighed, managing to savour the strangely content emotion for a few minutes until –

Oh good god, what was I thinking.

It took a lot of self control, some Toby had never known he had, to just reach over Draco's mincing cutlery to grab hold of the potatoes. If he just didn't speak, maybe –

Draco's eyes flashed up and down his upper half even as Tobias favoured him with a slightly-less-mocking-than-usual nod. The blonde's lip curled as he very haughtily, very condescendingly refocused his attention on something else, and – well. Stabbing him with his own knife seemed suddenly to be a very, very good idea.

Coherence. Calm. Deep – breaths –

But Tobias could barely stop his teeth from grinding, and the only thing left to do was look up, look away, and oh god why is Hannah Abbot OPPOSITE ME –

Toby blinked, then blinked again, flashing her a nervous half-smile without really meaning to, courtesy his old, highly embarrassed instincts. She blushed. A sort of sputter-cough sounded from his left, from Draco-territory; a cough that paused his fork on the way to his mouth. Would really it be that easy to irritate Draco, just now when Tobias was absolutely bursting to return the favour without causing him grievous bodily harm?

A test was obviously in order, so – he reached for chicken, sighed handsomely, ran his hands through his sleekly sweaty hair, and…hey presto!

Wow, every girl I can see is actually looking at me. In that way.

Tobias blinked, then affected a flick of his sweaty hair in just the right direction for him to innocuously catch a glimpse of…Draco, who was frowning fit to kill himself.

A grin fought its way onto Toby's face as he dug messily into his potatoes. It just felt – for the first time, it felt like he was in control of the situation. People were staring at him as he obliquely flexed his muscles, gazed broodingly into space and smiled at nothing-that-might-have-been-someone-he-was-and-wasn't-looking-at, but they were damn well looking because he wanted them to. Perhaps this was how that poor bugger of a Lockhart had felt. Perhaps not.

But, as he snatched a second, sideways sort of look in Draco's direction, he could feel hysterical laughter rising up within him. It was really getting to him, it was – the idiot was almost scowling, now, just because he'd flicked his hair over his shoulder.

Well, Tobias thought viciously, smiling beatifically at Draco just to see his eyes narrow suspiciously, back to eating, then.

A moment later, Theodore Nott had realised he was at the table, and was cunningly manoeuvring him down it, gamely ignoring Draco's glare. Tobias, for his own part, complied fairly quickly, as it was now his firm policy never to spend more time around Draco Malfoy than he absolutely needed to. And as Slytherin's petty politics didn't revolve around Draco entirely, it wasn't as hard to do as he'd thought it would be. For starters, there were Theo and Blaise, and they were surprisingly all right, and –

"Tobias? Hello…?" Toby started as someone's hand landed hesitantly on his shoulder, causing him to twist up and wish he hadn't, even as Theo continued to speak, now a bit impatient. "Could you move down for Tracey sometime in the next hour, mate? And could you possibly try to listen to me when I'm telling you about what you missed in Transfiguration?"

"Possibly," Tobias murmured in reply, fighting for control of his irritatingly responsive hormones as Tracey Davis curly hair and all, sat down beside him. Well, more that she slid into the seat beside him, looking very thin and touchable and her hair sort of –

"Tobias."

"I was trying to remember something," Toby cut in a little hastily. "Right – er, Tracey?" She looked at him, shock clearly coursing through her system. "Just wanted to apologise for that mess in Transfigurations…" Her mouth opened and closed for a moment.

"Oh – er – that's – fine," she said hastily after a moment, as if realising he was actually waiting for a response. "It's not like I'm her favourite student anyway, she usually just ignores me, you know."

"I should think that makes it worse, then," Toby persisted, eyes involuntarily drawn to her throat as she reached past him a little awkwardly to grasp a jug of some sort of juice. "Oh, here, let me – "

"It's fine," she said, confusing him enough as to what precisely was fine that he just tapped the jug gently anyway, making it light enough that she sloshed some onto his plate by mistake. "Oh Merlin, I'm just a mess today – "

"It's fine," Toby said, wryly Vanishing the spoilt food on his plate. "We're equal now, aren't we?"

"When you two are done flirting," Theo cut in, his tone equally wry as Tracey blushed and Tobias thanked his stars that no one could really see his own, "McGonagall set us homework for the next class. She said we were to keep on trying the trance thing – "

"What fun," Toby muttered under his breath, trying to confine his roving eyes to the buttered roll he was now half-heartedly munching on.

" – until we get results," Theo persisted, rolling his eyes.

"Or fall into the same kind of trance that got you," Tracey said, startling Tobias a little as she made an absent gesture in his direction with her fork. "Stupidest homework we've ever gotten, I think."

"So you are hacked off at her," Theo said, affecting a tone of great surprise. She ignored him, cutting determinedly into her chicken as she continued.

"Oh please, it is stupid," she muttered. "Half the class just closed their eyes for five minutes, for Merlin's sake. Only thing that'll come of that homework is us getting a good extra hour of sleep." Theodore Nott laughed out loud, shaking his head when Tracey gave him a slightly disgusted look.

"That's Tracey for you – she'd never call McGonagall a bitch, but she'd call her a useless excuse for an educator – "

"You know," curly hair whipped round to reveal a face that was all angles that Tobias hadn't actually really examined, "I've been meaning to ask you about him," she jerked her head towards the still-chortling Theo. "I can understand you chumming with Blaise, but I really don't see why you put up with Theo. I mean, it must be obvious that people don't really like him much – "

"Oh Tracey, you wound me – "

" – and that he's never ever been cool or approaching it in his life," Tracey finished, now obviously focusing on a grinning Theo.

"He does the dirty work quite admirably," Toby replied, straight-faced even as he sensed Draco drawing closer for some ungodly reason. "He doesn't look it, you know, but he's a lot stronger and a lot less squeamish than Blaise – "

"Unfortunately, I can imagine that quite well," Draco cut in from Tobias' right. "Being a poof requires that you're not too squeamish, I understand. Doesn't it, Theo?"

"Whatever, Draco," Theodore replied, face shutting down almost instantly. "Anyway, Toby, McGonagall said – "

"I almost forgot to ask you, you know," Draco said, interrupting Theo deliberately, "why you sort of…" he mimed Toby's spacing out in a faintly insulting manner, "in Transfig this morning. How come?" Tobias had barely even begun to consider how to reply to such an irritating question without resorting once more to magical violence when he heard a sharp gasp.

"Oh gods, Defence," Tracey muttered, practically throwing down her cutlery as she dug out her schoolbag from below the table. "Come on, Theo, I want a seat in front for a change." Toby's heart squeezed just a little as she gestured impatiently at Theo, who still looked blank and rather angry. It just reminded him of Hermione, somehow, always looking out for him and Ron –

"Save you a seat?" Toby looked up, startled, from his half-eaten roll, and was about to reply to Theo's tentative question when Draco beat him to it.

"Do you really think he wants to sit by you, Theo?" was the easy, slightly mocking answer. Theo coloured slightly, biting his lip in a way that he almost always seemed to do around Draco. "Just push off, for goodness' – "

"On second thought, I'm coming with you," Toby said just as easily, sliding out of his seat with a deliberately swaggering air, running a hand through his hair. "Hold on a minute there, Tracey – " But as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and hastened to catch up with a relieved-looking Theo, he realised she was nowhere to be found. "Where did she go?"

"Defence, like she said," Theo replied, after a moment. "She'll save us seats, don't worry." Toby shot a look at the taut face of someone he realised, with a start, that he was starting to think of as a friend, and decided he'd leave it alone for now, for, as odd as the occurrence was, it didn't quite compare to being called a poof very loudly in front of everyone in his house for no other reason than because Draco felt like he was monopolising Toby's conversation. It was a surprise, then, when Theo continued to talk. "So. You said something about dirty work…?"

Toby chanced a look at Theodore and was almost unable to speak at the thinly-veiled emotion on the other boy's face. He rolled his eyes almost immediately, as if irritated at his new friend's forgetfulness.

"You do the tasting, Theo. Of the product," he insisted, on seeing the startled look on his friend's face. "You know, the potion that will enrich us by destroying every Malfoy in existence…?"

Toby tried to assure himself, a minute later, that he wasn't exactly replacing Ron and Hermione. Theodore was different, it was obvious. Just because hearing him laugh at such a daft joke made him feel the same way as he'd used to around his old friends didn't mean anything.

It really didn't.

As Theo had so confidently intimated, Tracey was in the now rapidly-filling Defence classroom, sitting in the midst of three conspicuously empty spaces in the front of the class and writing something vaguely on a scrap of parchment. Theo and Toby headed straight for her and, settling easily into the two seats of the desk behind her, asked who the third space, the one beside her, was for.

"Blaise," she replied, giving Theo a look of surprise. "He's usually here by now. Isn't he coming?"

"Didn't see him at lunch, so I wouldn't know," Toby replied, leisurely extracting his slightly battered Defence textbook and thanking his stars that he'd not somehow taken the seat beside Tracey. The state he was so persistently in today, he wouldn't have been able to concentrate. Theo snorted beside him, copying his actions with an air of jerky impatience that Toby tried not to think of as classic Ron.

"You wouldn't know, because you're always late to lunch," his friend scoffed, slamming the heavy textbook onto their desk as Toby pinked slightly. It was all too true, really, he did avoid going to lunch on time.

What was worse, it was his uncle's fault – he'd had the 'art' of making an appearance drilled into him until he felt a little odd arriving to any meal on time.

"It's not my fault that my dear Uncle Snape constantly wants to see me," he retorted defiantly, slotting his book open impatiently as he fidgeted in his seat, then affecting a need to search out the notes of the previous lesson because Ron and Hermione had just come in, arguing fiercely, and he really didn't want to stare – "Really, if I didn't know he had a preference for women, I'd have to think very, very hard about his intentions – "

"So," Tracey interrupted rudely, her half-smile belying the impatience of her tone as she half-turned towards them, "the long and short of it is that you've not seen Blaise, eh?"

"No, I've seen him," Theo insisted, leaning forward slightly to better drive home his point. Or something – "He was really early for lunch, see, and he told me – " Draco Malfoy burst into the class, as loud and obnoxious as usual, and deigned to push roughly past Toby as he strode down the column of desks. Toby shook off the anger almost immediately, wanting to hear what Theo was saying – " – be a bit late for Defence."

"Which is Blaise for, 'I'm going to suck face with Flora Williamson', more or less," Tracey commented with a small grin, turning back to her doodling.

"Wait, wait," Theo insisted, stretching out to tap her on the shoulder. "When did that happen? And why?"

"Last night, and because he asked," was the amused reply. "You know how it is with him – "

"Excuse me," a very unwelcome voice said from behind the three chatting Slytherins, cutting into their conversation. "Is this seat taken?" Draco's exaggeratedly polite tone and demeanour seemed to be pitched so as to grate on purpose, and grate it did, because Toby found himself retorting nearly at the same time as Theodore beside him.

"Yes," he snapped, startling inwardly at the vehemence in Theo's tone, which was actually greater than his own. But before he could try to check what the dark-haired, sullen-looking boy beside him was thinking, a very blonde and very annoying git was already setting down his bag by the desk in front of them, and making obvious preparations to sit down.

Only a Malfoy, Toby thought tightly, trying not to be shocked at the amount of vicious rage that churned behind that statement for him.

"Why'd you ask if you were going to sit down anyway?" came Tracey's unmistakeably cool question as Draco slid into the seat beside her, just as – fucking rotten luck – Professor Vadim swept into the classroom haphazardly, as always.

"A little thing called courtesy, which our Theo back here might not understand," Draco whispered over-loudly, clearly meaning for 'our Theo' to hear. Even from behind, Toby could tell Tracey was angry – her thin frame stilled slightly, and the small part of her expression that he could see from this angle was very blank, and very cold.

"I still don't know why you're sitting here, Draco," she replied politely. "I suppose we'll have to endure it, won't we, Theo?" And before Draco could voice any sort of response, Professor Vadim had begun to pace the front of the classroom, a stern look on her face.

"Afternoon, class," she began, her cold tone causing the mood of the class to lighten abruptly. She, as Toby had quickly discovered, was always sterner when the material to be covered in her current class would be easier than normal, and almost irritatingly jovial when it was harder. "Today, we will be reviewing the proper use and performance of localised Blasting Curses." The class relaxed further around the tense knot that was the reluctant foursome of Toby, Theo, Tracey and Malfoy, closing books and putting away quills as the professor continued to speak. "Now, if you would pair up…"

This time, when the Slytherins emerged from the Defence classroom, no one was smiling. Theodore and Draco were glaring at each other from opposite sides of the group, and Tracey lagged behind the most, alternately lighting and dousing her wand, a shuttered look on her face. Blaise, who had finally made it into the class, late as promised, was trying to carry on a stilted conversation with an obviously uncomfortable Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy stuck as close to Draco as possible, darting venomous looks in Toby's direction.

Toby sighed inwardly. It had been a surprisingly grim class – bad enough that he'd felt uncommonly relieved when Zaharia Vadim had ordered everyone to switch partners, and had headed for the first free girl with a Ravenclaw tie, hoping against hope that no one else would pick him out on his elaborately confused little journey across the classroom. He'd chanced a guilty look back in Draco and Tracey's direction, but the sight of her pale, angry face and Draco's stiff smile had driven him on.

Tobias chanced a look at them now, and was not surprised to see Draco eyeing Tracey unobtrusively. He didn't know why on earth he hadn't seen the odd pattern these last couple of weeks – the odd way Draco seemed to go out of his way to irritate the blonde, awkwardly thin girl, and the way she just seemed to close up around him. Toby sighed, glancing at his watch, adding yet another item to the list of Slytherin Politics: Patterns To Understand. At the very least he'd gotten a breather from the hostile conversation –

"Mandy Brocklehem?" he stuttered on purpose, noting absently just how large her chest seemed to be. Perfectly sized, really –

"Brocklehurst," she corrected, giving him a small smile as he conjured a paper target for her and strung it up on an imaginary hook. "Flaminis!"

"No, you've got it all – let me," Toby muttered, wondering how on earth she'd survived the class not knowing the correct way to twist at the end of a blasting sequence. He caught hold of her hand gently, and, as he guided her through the movement, realised just how daft he was being, not using even a shred of what Seve- his uncle had drilled into him over and over again. "And that – there's always a twist, at the end, for proper localisation."

"Thanks," Mandy said easily, giving him a slightly bigger smile as she incanted again, the burn of her spell now properly confined to within the large black circle, as was correct. Toby fought down a blush, wondering why he'd chosen to forget just now that girls did find him attractive, and smart girls were just as liable to bend circumstances just to get him to touch them, and it was really quite dangerous for him at the moment, because girls just seemed to make him go all –

"Toby? Helloooo – "

"What is it?" he snapped in return, only just registering Theo as the interrupter of his internal memory reel as his still-sullen friend of sorts gave him an annoyed look.

"I was just asking – never mind," came the slightly cool answer.

"Come on, Theo," Toby wheedled, almost automatically turning on his charm as he tugged at the other boy's elbow.

"Look, it's really not impor – "

"Tobias?" Mandy's hesitant tone stopped him and Theo in their tracks for a moment. It was enough for her to rush up and give him yet another one of those smiles, look him over and generally make him feel – "Thanks for the help with the Blasting Curse today," she continued, tossing her brown hair over her shoulder. "See you in Potions tomorrow, okay?" She swished off confidently, accompanied by two grinning girls that were obviously her friends, leaving behind her a mildly speculative Toby and a lowly (and rather crudely) whistling Theo.

"You were saying, Theo…?" Theodore shook his head, a wonky smile edging onto his face.

"Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't important enough to compete with those – "

"Don't be disgusting, Theo," came the automatic-sounding reproof from Tracey, who Toby abruptly realised they'd fallen far behind.

"But she was so obvious," Theo said eagerly, a wicked gleam in his eye as Tracey gave him an irritated look. "Oh, thank you, dear brave Tobias, for aiding me in revising a spell I've known half my academic life – "

"Thankfully," Toby said, trying hard not to smile, "I've got a meeting with my uncle, so if it's not too much to ask – "

"Another meeting?" Blaise's voice startled them all, coming from behind. "You should call it The Meeting, now – he always seems to have you down his office near the end of the week for your regular interrogation."

"He doesn't interrogate me," Toby said truthfully, smiling at the thought, which was not far from his uncle's behaviour at the end of the first week. "At least, he doesn't do that now."

"I fail to see how he could have kept that on, really," Tracey said, falling properly into step with the three boys. "You don't seem like the person to stand for that for too long, somehow."

"Really? I'm flattered – "

"Oh don't deceive yourself, Tracey," Theodore cut in. "He quite obviously has some sort of special fortifying potion he takes just before each visit – " Toby found himself hard pressed to keep back a laugh as they rounded the corner and headed for the stairs that led to the dungeons.

"You know, that doesn't sound like a bad idea. Merlin knows he can be scary enough sometimes – I'd probably do a really rousing trade if I sold fortifying potions keyed to him, if he wouldn't recognise the effects…"

"Fortifying potion?" Severus asked quite a few minutes later in the thoroughly soundproofed classroom they were speaking in. "How eminently ridiculous – "

"Quite obviously not my idea, as I said," Tobias ventured forth, fidgeting slightly with the strap of his schoolbag until his uncle rolled his eyes and nodded wearily at him.

"Oh start talking, you waste of space – "

"Fine," Toby replied, none too offended. His uncle had fallen into a perpetual bad mood once they'd returned to Hogwarts, and the constant insults almost seemed natural. "Well, the list's gotten longer, for one." Severus sighed, rubbing frustratedly at his rather pale temples.

"Do I have to ask which one?" he said lowly, tone wearyingly patient. "Because if I do – "

"The one about Slytherin Politics," Tobias conceded, peering closely at his uncle. "You look tired, have you been – "

"Yes, I have been," came the supremely irritated answer, through gritted teeth. "Do go on, so I can actually dream of sleeping within the next month."

"Well, Draco and Tracey Davis – you know, the girl with the really curly hair – they really don't get along, and I've no idea why." Severus favoured him with a pained look that plainly asked if that was a surprise. "Really, you should see them in action – she's really, really frosty when she's angry, and he just seems to perversely push her into it, it's weird, honestly…" Tobias looked up at the older, considerably more tired-looking man, who was now favouring him with an exasperated look worse than any he'd ever seen. "What?"

"I see," his uncle said, after a long pause, "that I made a grave mistake in allowing you to go first. No matter – I won't do it again. Have you already forgotten how serious things were for you this morning, you ignorant, idiotic little – "

"No, I haven't, I've been consciously trying not to remember so that the bloody bastard doesn't have a fucking way into my head! Give me some credit, please – "

" – and all you can worry about is if little Tracey isn't getting along with our mutual friend's little cock-shite of a son, while I'm being tortured at His Royal Bastard's pleasure for information that could kill you," Severus got out between angry, rasping breaths. "Merlin help me, Tobias, but sometimes, I really wonder – "

"You were what?" Toby was already on his feet and tuning out his fa – uncle, uncle, bloody uncle's stupid long speech about – oh Merlin – "What did he do? You shouldn't have gone, not in the middle of the bloody week – "

"You didn't care about that five months ago, did you? You know," Severus said dangerously, "that I have a task to perform. You know," he spat out, "that if he calls me, I must answer. Now, I put this simple question to you – how likely was it, this morning, that – that the Dark Lord would not call on me, after that highly susceptible vision you shared with him because," his voice got uncomfortably loud, "of your failure to realise that that old biddy of a McGonagall had just asked you to fall into a trance – "

Tobias cringed as his uncle shook, wondering if it was even safe to speak. The dull headache seemed to return with full, guilty force as he really took in Severus' slightly stretched appearance – the very way he held his tall frame just showed something wasn't quite –

"Severus, I'm – "

"Don't apologise, you fool," came the muttered interruption. Severus slumped back into his chair, hands shaking. "Why do you think I even try? Do you think I would do this solely for – solely for myself?" His voice softened oddly towards the end of the halting, bitter question, and Tobias could not quite bring himself to look into his – his uncle's eyes, because he felt like such a – "Stop blaming yourself this instant. Stop it. I – I won't have it, understand?"

"Yeah." Toby felt the awful, stabbing guilt within him subside just a little at the firm command, felt himself sink back into the chair he'd started this conversation on. "Severus? I'm sorry – about the Ball, or Party or whatever, I was wondering – "

"Not now, Tobias," Severus said, cutting him off yet again, this time with a tired yawn. "Tomorrow morning, perhaps when I feel – better." Toby nodded carefully, rising from his seat, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. "No blaming tonight, understand? Or you'll be useless for plotting in the morning." Toby nodded again, heart heavy within him as he watched his uncle stretch tiredly again. "After Potions class, of course. Go – it is almost dinnertime. Anything later will be suspicious…"

So Tobias left the classroom, and was quiet throughout his rather boisterous dinner surrounded by the four Slytherin students that seemed to be shaping his life there so far. He was even quieter that night in bed as he tried not to think of the Dark Lord, and tried to return to that not-quite-happy-but-not-sad state he'd somehow achieved during the day.

And failed, on both counts.

A/N: God is really being good to me. Never thought I'd finish this, I tell you. Head aches. Will probably post before I go to school, and hope this satisfies your PTT lusts until I can somehow eke out another one. (As I've got a detailed outline for the next two chapters, Chapter 4 looks way more promising than this one has for a while).

Okay, and serious news here – my LJ name has been updated to reflect my new pen name, so, just in case I disappear everywhere, don't be frightened or desperate or whatever – I've just changed my name. ;)