"Ravenclaw SCORES! Both teams are evenly matched; the score is 140-140 now! We can expect this to last forever unless one of the Seekers catches the Snitch…"

Harry and Sevvy sat in the stands, following an exciting but rather lengthy Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff Quidditch game. They cheered loudly for both teams - not having a favorite – and just enjoyed the spectacle. Harry pointed out several interesting moves to Severus, and promised they would try them out during their next practice with the Little League.

They were unaware that large eyes followed them, fingers caressing a wand lovingly.

Voldemort's Lair –

"Draco."

"Yes, Master?"

" I am quite pleased with your efforts lately. You are proving to be truly your father's son. Learn from his strengths, and avoid his failures, my dragon."

"Yes, Lord, I shall endeavor to please you, as always."

"Good. You will have a place of honor at my side when we march into the final battle. The one that will settle this matter between myself and Harry Potter for good."

"I…that is a great honor, my Lord, I thank you."

"As soon as our loyal spy at Hogwarts rids us of that small pest that used to be my potions master, we will strike. Potter and the old fool will be consumed with grief and weakened."

"Yes, my Lord. Shall I prepare your troops, sir?"

Voldemort smiled indulgently. "You do that, little dragon. Soon, very soon, all the Wizarding World will see what a wise choice you made in serving me, what honors it brings."

Draco smiled his thanks, and withdrew from the room.

-Hogwarts-

The game ended in a Ravenclaw victory, though narrowly. It had lasted over four hours, and the audience was quite happy to get up from the stands and walk off the residual stiffness that lingered after sitting for so long.

Sevvy smiled at Harry when he saw the ice-cream stand the house elves had set up on the grounds for the spectators. It was a very hot day in late may, and the thoughtful creatures had figured the students would be in need of refreshments.

"Can I go get one, Harry?"

"Yes, but stay with the elves until I or father come to pick you up again. I need to get a hold of Hermione for a moment. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Sevvy nodded and ran off, chatting happily to the elves while he licked his icecream.

After a bit, he became aware of someone watching him. He smiled in recognition.

"Hello."

"Hello, little one. Your father sent me to take you back. Come."

Sevvy hesitated.

"Where are Daddy and Harry?"

"They had to go, child. Come along now, there's a good boy."

Sevvy scowled.

"I'm not a baby!"

"Of course you are not," he wasn't fooled by the placating tone, but assumed it was well meant.

He slowly followed, still eating his icecream. He didn't notice they weren't headed for the entrance until it was too late.

"What…?"

Large eyes behind huge glasses glittered evilly, completely devoid of their normal misty expression.

"My Master will reward me most handsomely for your head, traitor."

Sevvy tried to run, but was held by a surprisingly strong hand. A hand that pulled him towards a familiar tree.

"No, not the Willow, let me GO!" he screamed.

"Yes, the Willow. And the Shack. You should've met your faith there all those years ago, but now you will."

The treebranches were flailing about with wild abandon, destroying everything in their path.

All his fighting was in vain. He was no match for the welltrained female.

With a huge thud, he was flung at the tree, landing in the middle of the whirling branches.

Instinct, honed by years of training he didn't remember, kicked in, and he managed to roll out of the way of three branches.

But the tree had many. He heard evil laughter as two more branches came down. There was no way to avoid those. Staring up in horror, he thought of his Daddy and his brother, and how much he would miss them.

Then two things happened at the same time.

A violently orange half-kneazle darted through the branches and fairly jumped at the knot on the base of the tree.

And a voice yelled "STUPIFY!" followed by the unmistakeble sound of a body slamming to the floor.

Sevvy looked up to see the angry, grim face of Neville Longbottom.

"Well done, Crookshanks," the boy said. Then he knelt down next to Sevvy.

"Are you hurt? Can you stand up?"

Sevvy shied away. "Don't hurt me," he whispered.

The boy sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you. I know I ignored you, but I never meant you any harm. Come, we need to bring her to the castle; she needs to be interrogated. And I'm sure Dumbledore and Harry will be frantic with worry already."

Sevvy burst into tears. "Harry said to stay with the elves, and I didn't! They're going to be mad at me."

Neville shook his head. "I'll explain it to them, I promise. You thought you could trust a professor, of course."

Sevvy nodded weakly. Neville reached out and picked him up, settling him on his left hip while levitating the Stupified teacher with his wand arm.

They met up with Dumbledore and Harry not far from the – now removed – icecream stand, nearly pounding on two very frightened house-elves.

"Where did you see him last? What direction did he leave? Who was with him?"

"He's right here, he was lured away, but he's safe now," Neville replied.

They both whipped around to see a very strange situation.

Neville Longbottom, shy Gryffindor and having the dubious honor of having Severus Snape as his greatest fear, was now carrying said greatest fear while levitating a very Stunned professor.

"Sybill!" Dumbledore gasped, "she…how?"

"I'd check her left arm, if I were you, sir," Neville suggested, "she tried to kill him."

Harry quickly drew up the left sleeve. And there it was; the ugly, black Dark Mark.

For good measure, they also put her in a body-bind and headed as quietly as possible to Dumbledore's office, after warning Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick.

"Sevvy," Albus said, after tying the Divination teacher up and levitating her to a chair, "come here, child."

Sevvy clung to Neville. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I didn't mean to disobey, I didn't know, she said you sent her!"

Dumbledore swiftly crossed the room and took his son from Neville.

"Child, you don't think we are angry, do you? Of course you didn't mean to disobey." Dumbledore, to Sevvy's great embarrassment, cuddled him like a small child.

"DADDY!" he protested forcefully, "there are people here!"

Being cuddled by Daddy felt very good, and he was only too happy to allow it when he was tucked in, but honestly, he was seven now. Big boys aren't cuddled in public!

Despite his protests, he curled against Dumbledore, seeking comfort after the horrors of the afternoon.

"What happened, Nev?" Harry asked.

"Crookshanks came to get me, as I was nearest, I suppose," Neville said, never taking his eyes off the child, nor his wand from pointing at the still unconcious witch.

"I ran along with him, and arrived just in time to see her throw him to the Whomping Willow."

Dumbledore and Harry both paled. Dumbledore hugged the child harder. The lack of indignation told him the boy was reliving those terrible moments as well.

"Well, after that everything is a bit blurry, but Crookshanks ran up to the tree and pressed a knot at the base, while I Stupified Trelawny."

He looked at the cat that sat at his feet, looking, truth be told, rather smug.

"Then we came up here," Neville shrugged.

A moaning from the chair alerted them that the witch had woken up. Cold fury was radiating from Albus Dumbledore's eyes.

"Filius, there is Veritaserum in that cupboard; would you administer a dose, please?"

The small professor complied. Dumbledore then called for the Hufflepuff ghost.

"Brother, would you please take Severus? He needs your help now, and we need to deal with this…this…This."

When the boy was gone with the ghost, Dumbledore turned to the witch, while McGonagall got a dicta-quill to record the interrogation.

"Your name?"

"Sybill Cassandra Trelawny."

"You are a Death Eater."

"Yes," was the simple reply.

"How long?"

"Since our Lord returned."

"Do you remember our meeting at the Hog's Head, when you applied for this job?"

"Yes; the day I gave you the Prophecy."

"You remember?"

"No; I don't remember true prophesies. But the Dark Lord retrieved it from my mind."

"So he knows."

"Yes; he was not that surprised. He looks forward to crushing Harry Potter. That is why I have to kill Snape. It will hurt Potter, make him weak."

Harry snorted. "Does he plan to act on the prophesy soon?"

"Yes; he is gathering his army. As soon as I send word Snape is dead, he will march."

"March where?" Harry asked, tense.

"To Godric's Hollow," the witch smiled contently before passing out.