A/N: Back with another chapter, and it's a doozy I've been editing and reediting and tinkering with and swearing furiously at for weeks. I'll likely never be fully satisfied with it so I'm presenting it in all its glory for your judgment and hope it's well received. Next chapter will cover Harry's first Christmas as a Slytherin and I'm very excited for it. Hoping (fingers crossed!) to have it ready and polished around Christmas in the 'real' world. Thanks all as always for sticking around for more, and hope you are having a wonderful, happy, and healthy holiday season.

EDIT: Fixed some typos! Amazing how you can work on something forever and yet only catch some lingering errors once it's published, isn't it?


Chapter Seventeen: A Dangerous Game

"No."

Harry and Draco stared at their housemaster, the single word he'd uttered hanging in the air between them. Professor Snape stared back at them.

"But-" Draco started, but the rest of his sentence died before he could say it.

"But what?" Snape raised an eyebrow.

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it before opening it again. "But-"

Severus waited for Draco to finish, but when he again failed to do so, said, "The answer is no. Mr. Potter will be spending Christmas at school."

"But-" Draco tried a third time, finally bursting out, "But that's not fair!"

Severus didn't respond, instead watching as Draco sputtered incoherently. Harry, who'd barely said a word since they came to his office, looked at Severus apologetically, clearly embarrassed by Draco's squalling. Finally, the latter calmed himself somewhat, or at least enough to try a different tack.

"Sir, it's just that my parents invited him, Draco said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. "I don't see why it's a problem if they invited him."

"Use your head," Severus said, turning back to Draco. "Think for a moment instead of throwing a tantrum like a toddler."

"I'm not-" Draco cut himself off, likely knowing it was a dangerous game to continue to talk back. He swallowed hard. "I don't see why." Unable to help himself, he muttered, "Unless you're just being unfair."

Harry elbowed Draco, as Severus fixed him with a particularly intense stare. He said, "Would you like to repeat that, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco's cheeks flushed. Still quietly, but no longer muttering, he said, "Sorry, sir."

"You need to stop letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out when presented with a 'No'," Severus said flatly. "Of course I'm not just being unfair. I obviously have no ill feelings toward Potter." As though to prove his point, he turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, am I exceptionally cruel to you?"

"Er- no, sir," Harry said, looking very much as though he'd rather be anywhere than in front of Severus's desk having this conversation.

"Do I single you out from your other classmates for ritual abuse?"

"No, sir," Harry mumbled, gazing down and finding himself suddenly very preoccupied by the sight of his shoes.

"Is there any reason based on malice toward your person that I would deny you the opportunity to spend your Christmas holiday with a friend?"

"Er-" Harry shifted slightly. "Not that I can think of, sir." After a moment had passed, he looked up. "It's because of the man in the cloak, isn't it?"

"Well done, Potter," Severus said, turning back to Draco, who was looking at him in a steadily growing state of righteous indignation.

"You can't think that was my father! You think my father is going to kill him?" Draco said, shooting Harry a look of utter disgust, the kind that could only be directed toward a good friend.

"Of course I don't think that was your father," Severus said, waving a hand. "And no, I'm not implying your father has plans to kill or maim Mr. Potter. I certainly don't think those are his motives for inviting him."

This was the truth. Lucius Malfoy was often grandiose in his proclamations of support for the Dark Lord, as were most of his former followers. He was also damnably short-sighted, frequently acting in the moment without thinking through the consequences. That being said, Severus knew damn well the man was a coward. With the Dark Lord gone for more than a decade and his own freedom based on the lie he'd been under the Imperius Curse during the war, Lucius wasn't about to risk the comfortable life he'd built for himself. Not yet, at least.

"Then...?" Draco trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets and gazing at Severus with a look of such disappointment and confusion that the latter couldn't help but feel marginally, fractionally sorry at the piteous sight in front of him.

"Have you ever heard the saying that the safest place in the world is Hogwarts?" Severus said as gently as he was capable of. Which wasn't particularly gentle, but it was something. "Right now the safest place for Mr. Potter is Hogwarts. The defensive spells here are stronger than anywhere, even Gringotts."

The two boys both glanced at one another at this, but said nothing.

"I know it seems impossible to imagine, but there will be many future holidays, during which time I am sure Mr. Potter will be able to enjoy the splendors of Malfoy Manor. I'm afraid given what happened barely a month ago, this simply cannot be one of them. And no, it isn't fair," Severus conceded to Draco flatly. "But life isn't fair. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

The words 'I'm sorry' were a rare commodity from Severus Snape, the genuineness by which he said them now even more so. As the two boys shuffled out their faces were disappointed but accepting. Severus leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his temples, before reaching for his quill and a piece of parchment to begin his letter to Lucius Malfoy, wondering how long it would take the man to make his displeasure known.


It turned out to be less than two days. Severus sent his simple, short letter to Lucius explaining Albus Dumbledore's insistence the boy stay at Hogwarts his first holiday, with reassurances it was not personal, on Thursday evening. As he reached the owlery, he found Draco tying a letter of his own to the leg of his great eagle owl.

"Oh." Draco looked surprised by the presence of new company. He lowered his gaze slightly as he turned back to his owl, who was distracted by the dead mouse he'd been sharing with Potter's snowy white owl. "I didn't hear you coming. Hello, sir."

"I imagine our letters are going to the same place," Severus said, holding his own rolled piece of parchment aloft. "Perhaps Eltanin has room for one more?"

Draco blinked with surprise. "I didn't know you knew his name."

"I do pay attention occasionally, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said, his lips twitching slightly. "Your father was quite pleased to present him to you for your birthday."

Draco drooped slightly at the mention his father. He reached for the letter and began to tie it to Eltanin's leg.

"Perhaps this summer," Severus said quietly. "I know it seems a lifetime away, but there will come a day Mr. Potter visits your home."

"It's just stupid," Draco mumbled, then quickly added, "Not you, sir. Just... all of it. That someone would attack him in the first place. Why would someone attack him? He's nothing special."

Severus raised an eyebrow, and Draco continued just as quickly, "I mean, I know why. It's because he's Harry Potter. But besides what he did when he was a baby, he's not all that different, is he, sir? I mean, he's not an eleven-year-old Professor Dumbledore. And he's not an eleven-year-old He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, either. He's just an eleven-year-old. He's not any different from me, or anyone else."

Severus didn't respond straight away, instead thinking of how unlikely the words Draco Malfoy had said would have been coming from his lips just three months ago. A silent wave of pride rippled over him, and he quietly said, "Indeed, Mr. Malfoy. I couldn't have put it any better myself."

"I just don't understand it, sir." Draco shook his head as he finished tying the letter to Eltanin's leg. He ran a hand across the feathers on top of the bird's head and murmured, "To Mum and Dad, okay?"

Eltanin took off, shrinking smaller and smaller as he made his way across the Hogwarts grounds. Severus stepped closer to Draco and they watched as the owl disappeared over the horizon.

"I don't like it," Draco said quietly, staring at the spot where Eltanin had vanished, where mountain met sky. "But I understand, I suppose. I mean, I see why he has to stay, sir."

"It's not due to any suspicion toward you or your family," Severus said firmly. "I know your father was not behind any of the events of that evening."

"He wouldn't hurt him, sir. I know he wouldn't. He's been telling me since term started to be friends with Harry," Draco explained. "Vincent's dad has too, and Greg's. And Theo's. Even Blaise's stepfather wrote to him saying he should be friends with Harry. All our parents want us to get to know him. I suppose it's because they think he might become important, sir, but I don't see why they'd want us to become his friend and then kill him in front of us just as soon as we get to know him. Parents don't do that, do they, sir?"

Parents had done much worse during the war, but Draco had only been alive for just over a year of it, too young to remember a thing beyond what had come after. Severus studied him, then spoke honestly. "Not good parents, no."

The parents of his Slytherins didn't know what to do with themselves; they talked a big game but when it came to actually making something happen no one was going to move ahead without orders for fear it was the wrong move once the Dark Lord returned. Imagine he returned and wanted the boy alive- who wanted to risk their neck killing the child only to find out it was the wrong thing to do? Severus continued to suspect the culprit was Quirrell, an outsider to the Death Eaters, unless someone had gone rogue.

He'd been through the list of former Death Eaters a thousand times. Each one was either too much of a coward to do anything, too worried to harm the Slytherin Potter boy for fear he'd grow up to be an ally, or too insistent that they wait for word from the Dark Lord himself to actually go after the child. They'd bleat and pound their chests for years to come, Severus suspected, while watching one another as they waited for someone else to make the first move.

It was Quirrell, Severus was increasingly convinced. None of the former Death Eaters even knew how to break into the castle undetected; Quirinus had been inside all along. Of course, Quirinus was currently under a false sense of security that would soon come crashing down if everything went to plan. Severus thought to himself that there was a slight irony that they were keeping Potter in the castle with his own attacker instead of letting him leave for the holidays- not that he was about to let him spend time alone with Lucius Malfoy of all people. Lucius might not have plans to harm the boy, but he had a way of complicating things far more than any one person should.

"Father was so excited I'd finally made a friend," Draco murmured, half to himself. His cheeks flushed as he looked up abruptly. "Not that I didn't have friends before, sir."

Severus didn't reply. Draco hadn't had friends, not really. Severus knew the boy had already been acquainted with the other Slytherin first year boys, sans Potter, but the closest he'd had to a friendship with was between himself, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. Even that had been a lopsided 'friendship'; Draco bossed the boys around more than anything, acting as a sort of leader, which Crabbe and Goyle had taken surprisingly well to, as until then they'd had only one another and their own families for companionship. Severus knew Crabbe Sr and Goyle Sr were certainly the cold, commanding sort. It was simply more of the same for the two boys.

It hadn't been until Vincent and Gregory came to Hogwarts that they began to come into their own and develop actual, even-keeled friendships. As had Draco. As did so many of his Slytherin students each year once they'd finally escaped their miserable excuses for parents.

"You've made quite a few new friends this year," Severus said. "And while I won't sing your praises and shower you in rewards for doing the bare minimum by acting your age and not throwing tantrums, I have noticed your marked attempts to change your attitude."

Draco's flush extended to his ears, but a hint of cheekiness entered his voice as he said, "I suppose that's because I value being able to sit comfortably, sir."

"An intelligent thing to value, Mr. Malfoy, even if you tend to forget now and then."


"Mind if I join you?"

Severus looked up from his drink. Two days had passed since his conversation with Draco in the owlery, and he'd been in the midst of a perfectly adequate Saturday afternoon in the Hog's Head as the rest of the school crawled like vermin across the town of Hogsmeade. He presently was nursing a drink as he absently flipped through a history of Merlin as written by Muggles lent to him by Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor both Minerva and half his older students suspected he was sleeping with behind the scenes.

Lucius Malfoy smiled back at him, expression perfectly pleasant and posture unthreatening. Severus snapped the book shut, grateful for the false jacket he'd put on it as he stuck the tome into one of the deep pockets of his robes.

"I was wondering when I'd hear from you," Severus said, rising to his feet and shaking the man's hand. "Come, let me buy you a drink."

"On a Hogwarts salary? Certainly not." Lucius snapped his fingers at the young woman minding the bar. "One Ogdens Old, if you will. Severus, what are you having?"

"Another of these," Severus said, gesturing at his nearly empty glass. "And I'll be paying, thank you."

He placed down eight sickles (and a few extra for the barkeep), brushing Lucius's hand aside. "For God's sake, Lucius, I'm an academic but I'm not destitute. You'll get the next round."

There was the usual perfunctory polite arguing that lasted until their drinks were delivered, at which point Lucius somewhat graciously conceded defeat and raised a glass "to Severus Snape, the most stubborn man in the world."

"One can only dream," Severus said with a snort. "And the most stubborn man in the world is Albus Dumbledore."

"True, but I'm not about to toast him."

"Come," Severus said, gesturing to a table further back in the room, away from the bar. He lowered his voice. "You never know who might be listening."

Indeed, Aberforth Dumbledore was puttering about the kitchen, pretending to be busy but letting his sole employee on shift do all the actual work. Severus doubted the man would bother to tell Albus he'd seen the two men talking; Aberforth couldn't stand his brother, and only came to him with what he observed in his tavern if he suspected things were well and truly dire. Besides, Severus already knew he'd be reporting the entire conversation himself to Albus that evening.

"Remember the time Walden Macnair and I sneaked you out of the castle, all the way here, when you were just a first year?" Lucius asked, a wistful smile playing around his lips. "Old Apollyon Pringle nearly flayed us half to death."

"I remember," Severus said, drinking deeply, not finding the memory quite as fond as Lucius did.

Though those moments before being discovered, a just-about-to-be-sipped bottle of Blishen's in his hand, had been admittedly wonderful. Severus hadn't had many friends in Slytherin, and when the two seventh year boys announced their intention to help him celebrate his recent twelfth birthday in style he'd been stunned into near silence. He suspected Lucius and Walden didn't care much about him and instead were using him as a reason to give in to an adolescent urge for mischief (though, given what they were doing in their spare time for the war effort, contributing to the delinquency of a child was practically angelic), but that didn't matter. Severus was over the moon as he was taken under the wing of the older students he worshipped, if even for just an afternoon.

"Slughorn truly was a useless lump. You'd never let the children get away with that now," Lucius said with a small snort. "I'd say I feel sorry for them, but now that I have a son of my own running loose at Hogwarts I can appreciate your firmness."

The parents were surprisingly comfortable with Severus's, for lack of a better term, severity with their children. They came from extremely harsh families themselves, and in many ways continued this style of parenting with their own children. They didn't want them to be pampered at school. No, they wanted them to be molded into what they considered proper members of society by whatever means necessary. Even Lucius, who together with Narcissa bucked the trend by pampering Draco beyond measure, had admitted to Severus before sending him to school that he knew a bit of tough love and discipline would be good for the boy.

"How is Narcissa?" Severus asked, thinking of this as he sipped at his drink.

"She's fine. Lonely without the boy around. I've told her countless times to take up a hobby but she just mopes about." Lucius waved an irritated hand, then softened slightly. "She's excited to see him this Christmas, though she's disappointed the Potter boy won't be joining him."

Severus leaned back in his chair, grateful they'd finally reached the topic at hand. "As am I. You know I'd allow it if I could."

"You really can't convince Dumbledore otherwise?"

Severus shook his head. "The boy's family isn't taking him home for the holidays, so Dumbledore has insisted he stay at the castle. Security and all that nonsense."

Lucius shook his head. "I can't imagine why. No one has heard anything about going after the boy. No orders, nothing. We're all waiting for some sort of word before doing anything."

Which they would, of course. Given the Dark Lord's attitude during the war toward people who took initiative of their own. Too many people had been killed by the Dark Lord for trying to be a hero. Given no one knew for sure if he'd ever come back, why risk his wrath if he did, and a lifetime in Azkaban if he didn't? Everyone was on standby, but not much more, at least for now.

Besides, Severus knew Lucius had taken the same tack nearly all the other former Death Eaters had- to watch and see if the Slytherin Harry Potter was actually a blessing in disguise.

"I tried, Lucius," Severus said smoothly. "But you know he still suspects me. Ten years now I've been working for him, and he still doesn't trust me entirely- and he needs to if I'm to remain at Hogwarts. Can you imagine the sort of person he'd replace me with?"

"Don't make me picture it." Lucius nose wrinkled as he pondered the thought. "I wouldn't put it past him to try to drag Slughorn out of retirement, that old idiot."

"A traitor, through and through," Severus agreed affably. "Though I suppose we had some good times under him."

"Only because it was the days of the war when one could speak their mind openly," Lucius said, lowering his voice as much as he could while still being audible to Severus. "Not that he had anything to do with that- he'd have stopped us if he could, but the fool never bothered to spend any time with his house. Except for his sorry little Slug Club."

Neither Severus nor Lucius had ever come close to being part of their housemaster's coveted inner circle. Lucius had been asked to attend two parties before Slughorn lost interest in the boy and stopped inviting him; Severus hadn't been invited to any. Of course, Lucius was capable of twisting those two invitations into having been the former Head of Slytherin's most beloved student if the situation called for it, but Severus knew he'd been deeply wounded as a boy (and a man) by the lack of interest.

"You have done well with the house, Severus," Lucius conceded. "On behalf of the board of governors, we're very pleased with you."

Severus simply nodded, not replying. Lucius glanced around, checking they wouldn't be overheard. No one was sitting near them; the bar was nearly empty aside from the barkeep, who'd gone on her break, and half-deaf Aberforth, who was well out of earshot behind the counter. "It must be difficult to teach them the correct values with Dumbledore breathing down your neck. All the while making sure they put up a front that keeps them- and us- safe until the Dark Lord returns."

"Indeed," Severus said, raising his glass. Lucius raised his, and they drank.

As much Lucius longed for the days when Slytherin ruled loudly and ferociously, Severus knew he (and the rest of the parents) had come to accept over the past decade that time was gone, and that it was dangerous for their children to act as though it still existed. It was one thing to openly hex Muggle-born students and proclaim one's allegiance to the Dark Lord during the chaotic days of the war, but to do that now, during peacetime? It was political and social suicide for their children and themselves, especially considering everyone was trying to lay low and pretend they'd been under the Imperius Curse the entire war.

"Of course, the children don't always understand," Lucius went on. "Narcissa says the letters Draco sent home his first month at school were quite aggrieved. I'd warned him he'd have to keep his true loyalty under wraps, but it was quite an adjustment for him."

"It was," Severus agreed. "He had a difficult time of it at first, but he's come around."

"Of course, his reaction was to be expected, I suppose," Lucius said. "In a perfect world he would have gone to Durmstrang and been able to speak his mind openly, but you know Narcissa." He sighed. "Honestly, Severus, the only reason I agreed to send him to Hogwarts was because I knew you'd be his housemaster."

Severus nodded, a barely perceptible tilt of his chin. "I won't let Draco go astray. Your values are my values, Lucius."

"Damn Dumbledore," Lucius murmured, then relaxed slightly. "I understand that you need to teach them to be subtle with their support of the Dark Lord. It's not the same world it used to be. Too many heroes are in Azkaban."

"Too many," Severus agreed, and waited for Lucius to finish his thought.

"However..." Lucius leaned forward slightly. "Do you suppose it might be a bit much that you extend your rules to the common room? All of them?"

"You know I expect a great deal from my students, Lucius," Severus said simply.

"And I appreciate that. I do, Severus. You're strict with them in a way Slughorn never was with us, and it's good for them. A bit of harshness, a bit of discipline- it's exactly what they need. God knows the boy doesn't receive any at home."

And whose fault is that? Severus thought as he took a sip of his drink.

"I'm not referring to those rules, and I think you know that," Lucius said, taking an even larger sip of his. "I'm referring to the fact that the children aren't permitted to even praise the Dark Lord within the safety of their own common room." He paused. "Narcissa tells me his first month Draco wrote to us he thought you might be a traitor, you know. Utter nonsense, of course," he was quick to add, with such sincerity Severus believed him, knowing the moods of Lucius Malfoy nearly as well as the man himself did. "But I fear you may be so firm with them they might get the wrong idea."

Each September there were first years who reported to their parents they thought their housemaster might be a traitor, and before now Severus hadn't had a doubt in his mind a boy as fervent as Draco (with a father as fervent as Lucius) had been one of them. If anything, he was surprised it had taken this long for Lucius to tell him.

"Dumbledore," he finally said by way of explanation, allowing a wave of bitterness to wash through his voice. "Of course I wish the children could be open in the common room."

"They should be able to speak their minds there," Lucius murmured, half to himself. "In their own common room. They deserve that."

"They should, and they do deserve that. But there are ears everywhere, Lucius, even in Slytherin. Just as there are ears on the Board of Governors, and in the Ministry, and in the world around us, as you very well know. The children are free to praise the Dark Lord in a safe way, whether that be in the common room or elsewhere. But as terrible as it is, I simply cannot allow it when I'm present. We have brown-nosed children of brown-nosed parents who would report back to Dumbledore in a heartbeat, and you know he'd insist on intervening if he thought I wasn't doing it myself. I can't have him suspect me, Lucius, you know that. I was nearly sacked after what happened to that Mudblood Gryffindor girl a few years back."

"The Board of Governors would intervene," Lucius said quickly. "We'd never allow that to happen."

"Is that truly the hill you'd want to die on, Lucius?" Severus asked. "It would make the papers, you know that. Do you want your name in the Daily Prophet defending the professor who supposedly cultivated a revival of the Death Eaters in his own house? Do you want that cloud over your family when you've worked so hard these past ten years to protect their reputation?"

Lucius didn't respond. Severus knew deep down that as much as the man supported the Dark Lord, he didn't want him to actually return. He would do anything to keep the somewhat tarnished sheen of respectability he'd fought to maintain around his family name. The status quo may have been dictated by the winners of the war, but Lucius had managed to do quite well for himself within that status quo.

"They're learning the proper values," Severus said, his voice low. "Just more subtly than we learned them. But they're intelligent, Lucius. They're learning."

Lucius nodded, defeated. It was several rounds later that he pulled his trump card.

"There's something I need to tell you," Lucius said, his face slightly relaxed from just enough alcohol to leave him extremely comfortable but not intoxicated. "And you mustn't tell Draco I told you."

Severus raised an eyebrow. He had a high enough tolerance at this stage of his life that he was markedly more sober than Lucius, who admittedly wasn't that tipsy himself.

"The boy wrote me a letter," Lucius said. "And honestly, I usually skim them- he goes on and on about the most mundane nonsense- but this was rather... well, concerning, Severus."

Severus took the letter, one dated a couple of weeks before. It started off like any other letter, but the further he read the more icy his stomach became.

-and we had a wonderful time trying to duel even if we didn't know any proper spells beyond a few useless ones. It was a perfect night. But something happened on our way back that I need to tell you about, Father, and you can't tell anyone, not even Mother. Especially not Professor Snape.

We split up on our way back to the dorms, and Blaise Zabini ended up outside the forbidden third floor corridor. I've told you about there being a forbidden third floor corridor in my other letters, haven't I? Anyway, Blaise thought he heard Filch coming, so he used the unlocking charm to get in. There was a gigantic three headed dog there on top of a trapdoor, and he was angry. He ran for it, but Professor Snape caught all of us on our way back to the common room. He was really angry, even angrier than the dog, but he didn't find out that we knew about the dog or the trapdoor, just that we'd sneaked out to duel.

The thing is, when Potter went to Gringotts this summer he went with that oaf Hagrid who takes care of the grounds, mostly because his family are Muggles who don't like magic. Potter said Hagrid took a package from a deep vault that was meant for Professor Dumbledore. That was the same day Gringotts was robbed, and the newspaper said the vault the thief broke into was empty. We think that must be what's under the trapdoor. When we asked Hagrid, he let slip there was someone named Nicolas Flamel involved.

Do you know who Nicolas Flamel is? The entire first year has been searching and searching through the entire library but we haven't found anything.

Please don't tell anyone I've asked you. We've all agreed not to tell our parents about any of this and the entire year will hate me if they know I did. Please don't tell Professor Snape either. He made us promise we wouldn't sneak around anymore, and he'll be furious if he knows we went behind his back to try to figure things out on our own.

The remainder of the letter was short, consisting of Draco telling his father how much he missed him and looked forward to seeing him and his mother for Christmas, alongside repeated requests not to reveal his secret.

Severus lowered the letter. Draco was right, he was furious, and worse than that, he was embarrassed. Severus Snape prided himself on knowing what his students were doing, whether they thought they were stealthy or not. Obviously he'd known they were up to something, and he'd been keeping remarkably close tabs on them since Potter had nearly been flung down a flight of stairs. But the little bastards had been subtler and covered their tracks more carefully than he'd given them credit for. Even the Baron reported only hearing them discussing finding more information on 'him', no name given. Given the circumstances, Severus had assumed they were referring to the man in the cloak. He'd thought the children were spending all their time in the library trying to find more information on mysterious cloaked figures or famous wizarding murderers, a task that he wasn't thrilled by but was relieved that at least it was a pointless one, as they weren't going to find any solid information from the books in the school library on a random cloaked figure Severus deeply suspected was Quirinus Quirrell. That, and all the time they spent in the library kept them from getting into to actual trouble elsewhere, and any time they were elsewhere they were being watched by himself, the Bloody Baron, Argus Filch, or Dumbledore, along with a small army of portraits deemed trustworthy.

He'd assigned Potter that seven hundred page behemoth Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry just to slow him down a bit, and had done the same with most of the other first years he bumped into in the library, unware they were actually seeking more information on Nicolas bloody Flamel.

They hadn't slipped up once. Not until now, of course.

Severus Snape felt like a fool, and Severus Snape did not enjoy feeling like a fool.

He lowered the letter, expression perfectly calm. Then he laughed.

"Well," Lucius said, startled by his reaction. "That wasn't quite what I was expecting, but go on."

"I'm sorry," Severus said, chuckling as he drained his glass. "I am, Lucius, but my God, I didn't think you'd be the one to fall for it."

"Fall for it?" Lucius repeated. "There is a giant three headed dog in the third floor corridor, am I not correct? In the same school as the children?"

"I'm afraid so."

"And there it is guarding something? Presumably what was in the vault at Gringotts?"

"Indeed," Severus said. "But it's not what you think it is."

"Isn't it?" Lucius looked both ways and dropped his voice so low Severus had to strain to hear it. "Because I know who Flamel is, Severus. He's the inventor of the Philosopher's Stone."

Severus put a hand on Lucius's forearm, a signal to be quiet. He murmured, "Outside," and the two men put their cloaks on and left the bar. The blinked at the bright light, pulling their cloaks closed tighter in the cold December air.

"The old man is half-deaf," Severus said as they walked down the winding road. "But it never hurts to be careful." They paused at a bend just before the road turned onto the main street of Hogsmeade, where there'd be no privacy at all, particularly considering it was currently overrun with children.

"It's a fake stone, Lucius. The entire thing is a trap," Severus said, glancing around for any open windows or listening ears. "There's an entire gauntlet hidden beneath the dog to protect a fake Philosopher's Stone. The break-in was staged. The real Philosopher's Stone is in Nicolas Flamel's Gringotts vault, as it's been for the past six hundred years."

"Why?"

"Think about it," Severus whispered, keeping his eyes fixed on the curve in the alleyway as Lucius kept watch behind them. "With Harry Potter starting Hogwarts, Albus is terrified of the war beginning again. He can hold his own if it's us against him, especially with the Dark Lord out of commission as he prepares for his return. But he's worried about what will happen if the years go on. As he gets older." Severus shook his head. "He's old, Lucius, and only getting older with each passing day. He's frightened. It's made him paranoid, or more paranoid than he already was. He cooked up this scheme over the summer with the Ministry's blessing." He ignored Lucius's sharp intake of breath. "A false break-in at Gringotts, followed by a forbidden third floor corridor that of course a student would investigate eventually. A student who, if all strings were pulled correctly, would be a Slytherin. A corridor closely monitored by Dumbledore himself so he knew who went in and who went out."

"It's a trap for the students?" Lucius asked, his mouth suddenly very dry.

"And their parents," Severus said with a nod, hoping to whatever higher power there was he'd stick the landing on this. "It's a Ministry sting, Lucius. The Ministry's as frightened as he is that with Harry Potter at school, the old crowd's going to start up again. They're looking for the reckless ones, the brash-headed ones, the ones who don't think before rushing in."

Lucius didn't reply; he was mulling over these words in his head. Finally, he said, "I would know if there was a Ministry operation. My connections, Severus-"

"I don't think you understand how deep this runs," Severus interrupted. "This isn't just your typical Auror operation- there are Unspeakables involved."

Lucius closed his eyes for a long moment before opening them. The cold air and the conversation seemed to have sobered him completely. "We must warn the others. Severus, you haven't warned anyone?"

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that," Severus said gravely to the wary look he was now on the receiving end of. "Don't look at me like that, Lucius. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you," Lucius said, as though he was offended by the insinuation he might not. All the same, he still stared at Severus expectantly.

"The true Philosopher's Stone is in its proper vault at Gringotts. The false one is under a trap door at Hogwarts," Severus explained. "The only people who know this are Albus Dumbledore, Nicolas Flamel, and myself. And now you. The rest of the staff is under the impression the actual Philosopher's Stone is in the castle."

Lucius mulled this over, confusion crossing his face. Severus spelled it out for him. "Think about it. Albus trusts the rest of his staff implicitly. As for me... he trusts me, but not completely. He doesn't have any reason to suspect the rest of the staff will pass along information about a seemingly real Philosopher's Stone to the old crowd, but if they did, he'd immediately know there was a spy in his midst that wasn't me. Meanwhile, if the old crowd suddenly knows about a fake Philosopher's Stone hidden in the castle..."

"He'd know it was you passing information," Lucius finished for him. "So there are three options he's searching for, then, aren't there? The students discover the mystery on their own and their actions expose which families are still loyal to the Dark Lord, that's number one."

"Number two, the information is leaked to the parents about a real Philosopher's Stone without the students becoming involved, meaning one of Dumbledore's staff who wasn't a former Death Eater has compromised loyalties," Severus continued.

"And number three is the entire plan about the fake Stone becomes known among the Slytherin parents, revealing your disloyalty," Lucius finished for him. He shook his head, perturbed. "It's terribly convoluted, Severus."

"Indeed," Severus agreed. "But is it any more convoluted than hiding an actual Philosopher's Stone in the castle under a giant dog, behind a giant gauntlet?"

Lucius grit his teeth. "The old fool. That Zabini boy could have been killed by that beast. Draco could have been killed. A simple unlocking spell was the only thing keeping them apart from a murderous creature?"

"Never an actual possibility," Severus said smoothly. "There are enough charms in that room to prevent the dog from ever hurting anyone who isn't of age. Only an adult wizard would be in any danger."

A lie, of course. Severus's own blood was still running cold at the thought of what might have happened to Blaise Zabini that night had he not escaped the dog guarding the very real Philosopher's Stone, and his fury rose at the children for continuing to seek out only more danger.

They stood in silence a moment longer. Lucius had just opened his mouth when Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derrick rounded the corner and entered the narrow alleyway. Each boy held a furtively procured unlit cigarette between their fingers, and Bole was in the process of trying to light his with a faulty lighter. Both froze in place at the sight of Severus Snape, who murmured "Excuse me" to Lucius, and strode briskly to them, hand outstretched. Both boys sheepishly placed their cigarettes in his hand. Severus waited, eyebrows rising dangerously. Lucian Bole slowly reached into his cloak pocket and retrieved the nearly empty pack, which he handed over along with his lighter.

"Back to the castle. I expect to see every candelabra and portrait frame in the common room gleaming by tonight." Severus narrowed his eyes as he held up the pack of cigarettes. "And if I ever find you with these or within eyesight of the Hog's Head again before you're of age I'll thrash you in the middle of the common room."

The boys' faces paled and they hurried back the way they came. Lucius, still white with fear of his own, couldn't help but let out a small laugh as Severus rejoined him. "I don't think they'll so much as look at a cigarette again until they're in their nineties after that performance, Severus."

Severus offered him one, then lit the other for himself. He knew things with the Stone weren't over, not by a long shot. He'd frightened Lucius enough by the notion his family's reputation might be damaged irreparably if he didn't keep his head down- for now. It was what would come next, after Lucius had time to think it over that had him thinking ahead, and adjusting the plans he, Minerva, and Albus had been working on.

They smoked both cigarettes in companionable silence, splitting the remaining five in the crumpled box two ways (leaving the last one for another time) before parting ways, each thanking the other for their loyalty. It was only then that it occurred to Severus that Draco had told his father everything about the night of the duel except for Potter's attack.


Draco wandered into the common room, bored beyond all measure. He'd be leaving for home in two days and all his things were packed. End-of-term exams were finished, and while they wouldn't receive their grades until the start of winter term Draco was reasonably sure he'd done all right. He'd had a lovely time for most of the afternoon, during which the first and second years had roped the handful of upper years who hadn't gone to Hogsmeade into a massive snowball fight that soon encompassed the entire outdoor grounds and left Draco howling with laughter, along with near-frostbitten fingers and toes.

The adrenaline wore off over mugs of hot chocolate, and for the rest of the afternoon Draco wandered about the castle, too tired to play with his housemates and too energetic from the snowball fight to relax. Later they'd be visiting Hagrid at his hut for tea and nearly inedible biscuits, but he still had plenty of time to kill.

He'd just returned from the owlery, where Eltanin had returned from Malfoy Manor with a short letter from his mum that whether Harry Potter was able to come or not she was thrilled to have her little boy back home in just a few days. She hadn't sent a full care package, but there were several bars of chocolate wrapped with the letter, and Draco munched on one now as he strode across the common room and flopped across one of the low sofas. The returning students were slowly beginning to trickle back from Hogsmeade, but not so many he'd be thrown off the couch anytime soon so someone older could sit there.

Lucian Bole and Reggie Derrick both had sour faces as they waxed and polished the frame of a large portrait of a windswept landscape near the fire.

"What'd you lot do?" he called over, feeling brave.

"Shut it, firstie," Reggie muttered, then relented. "Don't let Snape catch you smoking, that's all I'll say."

Draco snorted as Lucian added, "We saw your father, by the way. He was with Professor Snape."

"My father?" Draco repeated, as the stone wall of the common room slid open and Snape stormed in.

The room fell to a hush; Draco hadn't seen the housemaster this angry since the night of the 'duel'. The students around him scrambled to their feet, but Snape moved so quickly with strides so large Draco was only halfway standing by the time he reached him. He grabbed Draco's arm and forced him the rest of the way up.

"My office. Now." Snape propelled him toward the still-open common room door with a hefty swat to the backside.

Draco stifled a yelp and hurried forward, not wanting another, but Snape had already disappeared through the doorway to the dorms, away from his study. Draco swallowed, his chocolate bar forgotten on the floor, glancing at the open-mouthed students around him.

"What did you do?" Terence Higgs asked, and when Draco shrugged in wide-eyed bemusement he said, "You'd better get to his office. He's not joking around."


Blaise, Greg, Vincent, Theo, and Daphne had already been corralled in Snape's study, the door of which was unlocked for once. They all stood awkwardly staring at a stretch of stone wall, and Daphne hissed to Draco that they'd been ordered to face the wall. Draco did as well, his frayed nerves only worsening as Pansy and Millicent joined them a moment later.

"What is it all about?" Daphne whispered to the two girls, who just shook their heads in bewilderment.

But they knew, just as Draco knew. It couldn't be anything else. Professor Snape stormed in a few minutes later, Harry and Tracey in firm grasp on either side as he marched them in. Draco turned back to face the wall quickly, as did the rest of his dormmates, as Snape opened a cabinet in the corner of his study. A swishing noise made him freeze momentarily, after which he turned, unable to help himself, along with the rest of the Slytherins.

Professor Snape stepped away from his cabinet, and what he held in his hands nearly frightened Draco out of his skin.

"If I ever find you've placed a single toe anywhere near the third floor corridor again-"

Another swish, as Snape pointed the object's tip toward Blaise's nose.

"If any of you decide to keep a secret from me again-"

Another swish, and another, and another, as the dreaded object was pointed from student to student.

"If you ever decide to take matters into your own hands again-"

Professor Snape glared at them with such fury that Draco's legs nearly buckled.

"-I'll see to it personally you each receive six of the best, and I won't hold back." Snape lowered the cane, but only slightly. "Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

"Yes, sir," came the squeaked, terrified response from the ten Slytherins gathered before him.

"There is no great conspiracy, nor is there anything hidden at Hogwarts. Nicolas Flamel is a very old friend of Professor Dumbledore's," Snape went on, ignoring the slight gasps of the students around him. Draco's already shrunken insides shriveled even further, but there was something else there- a horrified sense of betrayal that was slowly roaring to life with each passing moment. "To sneak around keeping secrets and seeking mystery after one of your own was attacked in the middle of the night? You know better than that." To Harry, Professor Snape added with narrowed eyes, "After our recent discussion, I'd say particularly you, Potter."

Nine sets of eyes glanced sideways at Harry before darting back to the space just below Professor Snape's face. "Eyes on me." Their gazes darted up. "I am disgusted with you all."

Professor Snape slowly returned the cane to his cabinet, and Draco exhaled more deeply than he'd intended to. The mere sight of it frightened him into making sure he never found himself in a situation that warranted its use.

"The third floor corridor is forbidden," Snape went on. "As you very well know. You will never step foot near it again. You will come to me with any fears or concerns instead of trying to solve mysteries yourself. You are eleven. It is time you behaved that way."

Pansy opened her mouth but quickly shut it; she had a late birthday and had actually turned twelve near the start of the month, something everyone present knew, but probably not the best moment to bring it up. Professor Snape leveled her with an intense stare, which he directed in turn to each student around her.

"Get out of my sight. Straight to your dorms until dinner- and then straight back to them after. You will remain there until the winter holidays begin Monday, except for meals. And you will each write me four feet on the importance of doing as you're told."

With a flurry of murmured affirmatives, the ten Slytherins scurried out of the office into the hallway, where they stood gaping at each other like fish.

"He nearly caned us," Tracey whispered, her voice cracking. She was practically trembling, and she stared at the door nervously as though she expected it to suddenly fly open and Professor Snape to drag them back in to do exactly that. "I thought he was going to."

"How'd he find out?" Millicent asked, her face dark. "We were so careful."

"Hagrid," Blaise muttered, his voice low and furious. "Who else? We never should have trusted him."

"He wouldn't," Harry protested, looking sharply at Draco. It was clear his mind had gone to the same, inevitable place Draco's already had. Draco froze, waiting for Harry to reveal he'd told his father everything, and that his father had in turn told Professor Snape, but Harry didn't say a word, simply staring at Draco in silence as the other students insisted it must have been Hagrid.

"I need to-" Draco inhaled sharply, glancing in the direction of the common room (and the lavatories just beyond) as the contents of his stomach threatened to make a reappearance. "I think I'm going to be sick." And, before anything else could be said, he clamped a hand over his mouth and made a run for it.


Severus sat at his desk, smoking the one remaining cigarette from Lucian Bole's pack. His nerves were thoroughly shot, and once he'd smoked the cigarette down to a nub, he sat in silence, staring at the closed cabinet beside his desk.

He hadn't thrashed them. Just as he hadn't thrashed Bole and Derrick. For all his reputation as a fierce disciplinarian, and despite the fact that he had no qualms making use of punishment of a more corporal notion, he'd long ago discovered that the threat of particularly intense, nuclear-level, cane-shaped impending doom was occasionally nearly as effective as actually unleashing it. He'd seriously considered bending them over for one each, and they certainly would have deserved it, but the first years had been so horrified at the mere sight of the cane that he knew the sight was enough, especially since they weren't going to be able to blink without him knowing about it going forward. He had restricted them to their dorms for the rest of the term, as short as it was, and assigned essays that would hopefully force some sense and self-reflection through their thick skulls. It helped that he fully intended on carrying out his threat if pushed even an inch. He was furious with the little shits, and at himself for having been deceived. First years. What was the world coming to?

Severus exhaled, silently grateful he hadn't actually used the damned thing. He was too angry, and he'd vowed long ago never to discipline his students while he was this furious, not the way Apollyon Pringle had all those years ago. In all honesty, he'd let the cane rot in that cabinet for the past ten years and only used it once during that time. It would be another two full years before Severus would open those doors and use it again- not that he knew that then.

He emerged from his office half an hour later and made his way upstairs. He passed Filius Flitwick on the great staircase, and the small man called out chipperly, "Smile, Severus, it's nearly Christmas!"

Severus shot him a terrifying, toothy grin that was entirely out of place on his otherwise dour face and Filius shrank back slightly as Severus continued on toward the headmaster's office.


Rubeus Hagrid sat in his hut, freshly made biscuits and tea growing colder by the minute, wondering where the usual rampaging Slytherin first years were. They'd said they'd be there before dinner, hadn't they? Hagrid frowned and fed Fang a biscuit, peering out his window across the snow-covered lawn toward the castle.


Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, fingers entwined, as he studied Severus and Minerva. Severus glared at him, leaning upright against the wall nearest the door as Minerva frowned in her chair, her mouth a thin, puckered line.

"I told you you never should have brought the stone here, Albus," Severus said. "How long is he going to believe that story? It worked for the moment- I didn't want him to think the actual Philosopher's Stone was in the castle- but for how long? How damn long? What do we do now?"

"You said that door was well-protected," Minerva added, her voice level but containing its own low levels of rage. "But a simple Alohomora unlocked it? Albus, it's a miracle the Weasley twins weren't killed the first day of term."

"It's a miracle Blaise Zabini wasn't!"

"Severus," Albus said quietly, and Severus reluctantly fell silent. "Minerva."

They both stared at him as he pushed his half-moon glasses further up his nose and nodded slowly at Severus. "Sit. We have work to do."