On Friday morning, Harry slept late. He was woken by a persistent tapping on his shoulder and a rather irritating tugging on his foot.
"Oi! Wake up, mate! You're gonna be late for Charms." Came the voice at his shoulder.
"Master Harry must wake up, Sir." Said the wheezy voice by his foot.
Harry pulled the duvet up over his head and kicked his foot in an attempt to dislodge the long-fingered hand there. He didn't want to get up. He was comfortable and cosy and his sleep had been peaceful for once.
"Mmphf." He mumbled his displeasure at the room's invaders.
"This isn't working." Said the shoulder voice.
A new voice answered from the door. "Oh for goodness sake, let me."
A moment later Harry was shot into an upright position as ice-cold water hit him square in the face.
He sputtered and rubbed the water from his eyes. "What the hell?!"
"Sorry," shrugged Hermione, putting away her wand. "Nothing else was working."
"So you decided to drown me!" Harry exclaimed, though entirely without heat.
Hermione smiled. "You're awake aren't you?"
"And look at it this way," added Ron. "At least you've already showered."
As Ron laughed at his own joke, the long-fingered hand tugged his foot again. Harry looked down to the foot of the bed where his loyal house-elf Kreacher stood. "Master Harry, you have 8 minutes until Charms starts."
"What?!" Harry jumped out of the bed. "Why didn't you guys wake me?"
Three unimpressed faces turned towards him as he fumbled in his draws for fresh clothing.
"Okay, now you don't get the Danish we saved you from breakfast." Ron said in retaliation.
"Just hurry up and get dressed." Said Hermione, as they headed out of the room and Kreacher disapparated with a pop. "And if you're not ready in three minutes we're going without you."
By some miracle, and with thanks to the Marauders for identifying some useful shortcuts, the Golden Trio made it to Charms on time.
Well, on time, sort of.
They entered the class 1 minute after the bell had rung with sheepish looks. Professor Flitwick gave them a raised eyebrow, which would have looked reprimanding had it not been coupled with an accommodating smile.
It was an enjoyable morning. Harry was feeling relaxed after his restful sleep and he and Ron spent Flitwick's introductory lecture trying not to laugh as Seamus and Dean played chess with the items on Neville's desk and the boy in question tried to work out why the hell his belongings kept moving by themselves.
It was a rare moment that Harry felt so carefree. Seldom did he get to behave, get to feel, like a normal 18 year old. That should, perhaps, have been the warning sign.
The spell they were learning was a freezing charm. After an hour of theory and further time rehearsing the wand movement and articulation, the restless 8th years were finally allowed to attempt the spell.
They were each given a glass of water. "Remember," Flitwick told the class. "Twirl and jab."
Still engaged in battle, Dean captured Seamus' bishop, the ink pot jumped over the quill and their owner finally worked out who was responsible for his animated belongings.
"Hey!" Neville exclaimed, and sent two discreet spells back at Dean and Seamus in retaliation.
Ron and Harry tried to focus on turning their water to ice, as Hermione had told them to, but it was hard to concentrate when Dean found that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.
At first nothing seemed to have happened to Seamus, but then he opened his mouth to mock Dean and found that his deep, velvety Irish had been replaced by a girly, French voice.
The whole class was in hysterics as Harry turned back to his water, still chuckling, and cast the spell, "Ad Mutare Glaciem." Twirl and jab.
The reaction was instantaneous. The water in the glass turned cold, and then hard, and then completely solid.
Harry smiled at his achievement before his smile quickly slid off his face. The spell didn't stop at just freezing the water, its container froze too, cracking the glass. Following that, the ice creeped across the table, down the oak legs and began its encroachment across the classroom floor.
Harry stood as frozen as the ice on his table, powerless to stop his out of control spell.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped, drawing the class' attention to the spell gone awry.
"Finite incantatum!" Harry tried, but it had no effect on the spreading frost. "I don't know how to stop it!"
Finally, Professor Flitwick made his way over. "Finite incantatum." Harry was only slightly smug when the Professor's own attempt had no effect either. "Hmm, well that is a bit unusual." The small man said to himself. "Let's see… ne signa." Again nothing happened. "How about, imponere." He tried one last time with rather more emphasis.
The ice slowed to a halt, and then, as quick as it had approached, the glittering whiteness began to retreat. Back along the floor, up the legs of the desk, returning them to their original brown, and before Harry knew it the ice was back to water again.
"There, that's the ticket." Flitwick said in satisfaction.
With the excitement over, the class returned to their own water, but Harry was still as frozen as his desk had been. He stared at the glass of water in horror until his immobility caught the attention of the Professor and his friends.
"Alright there, Mr Potter?" Flitwick inquired. "No harm, no foul."
"I'm sorry." Harry whispered. "I wasn't concentrating."
"It doesn't matter, Harry." Hermione laid a reassuring hand on his own. "It was just a miscast spell."
"Indeed, Mr Potter, it happens all the time."
"It does matter." Harry emphasized. He knew it mattered because it wasn't just a miscast. He hadn't been concentrating and had forgotten to restrict his magic. "I could have hurt someone."
"What are you talking about, mate?" Asked a concerned Ron. "It was only a freezing charm."
Harry looked up, eyes wide and alarmed as they sought the Professor.
"May I be excused, Professor?"
"Of course, Mr Potter." The tiny Professor agreed. "If you wish."
Harry nodded quickly and gathered his belongings, shrugging off his friends' further attempts to comfort and question him.
He moved with urgency towards the Room of Requirement, mentally berating himself as he travelled swiftly through the corridors. He needed to blow off some energy, burn out his magic a little, just like he should have done this morning. Harry couldn't believe he'd been so reckless, so stupid.
"Umpfth." Turning a corner Harry ran head on in to a solid body.
"Mr Potter," drawled a familiar voice. "Shouldn't you be in Charms?"
Harry looked up at the looming Defence professor.
"Professor Flitwick excused me, Sir." Harry offered weakly, in a hurry to be away.
Professor Snape eyed him warily, taking in his flushed face and distressed expression. "And why would he do that?"
"Um… I- I had to – I needed. The spell." Harry couldn't think of any decent excuse that would get him away from the Professor.
The Professor's demeanor changed. "Harry, are you alright? What's happened?"
"Nothing." Harry denied. "Nothing's happened. I'm fine. I just need to go."
With Seeker agility, Harry dodged around the Professor and headed off at full speed down the corridor.
"Potter!" Snape called after him. "Harry!"
By the time Severus had made it to the Charms classroom, the bell had rung and the 8th years were trickling from the room. He slipped inside managing to stop Weasley and Granger just before they left.
"A moment please, you two."
The pair looked reluctant to stay, but after a silent exchange of glances they both gave unenthusiastic nods.
"Professor Flitwick," Severus gained the attention of his colleague.
"Oh, Professor Snape, what can I do for you?" The shorter man greeted cheerfully.
"I've just encountered Mr Potter in the hallway." The Gryffindors perked up at hearing their friend's name. "He said you excused him from class?"
"Yes, yes, that's right." Filius confirmed.
"Is he alright, Professor?" Granger interrupted.
"I am not yet sure." Severus answered honestly. "He seemed quite distressed when I spoke to him."
Granger and Weasley exchanged worried glances.
Severus addressed Filius once more. "Why was Potter excused from lessons?"
"Well, he had a bit of a mishap with his freezing charm, you see." Flitwick explained. "Nothing too dreadful, had it all under control in a jiffy. But Mr Potter did seem rather upset about it, so when he asked to leave, I thought perhaps it was for the best."
Severus turned towards the two thirds of the Golden Trio. "Do you know where Potter has gone? Or what caused him to be so distressed?"
"No, Sir." They chorused and Severus was inclined to believe them.
"Very well. Mr Potter has a free period in which to compose himself and return to classes. If he continues his day as normal then we'll call this a wobble and say no more about it."
The pair of teens nodded quickly and ran off to find their friend.
Potter did return to his lessons later that day, and when Severus saw him at lunch, the boy seemed marginally improved, no longer distressed but still tense. By dinner Potter seemed more like his usual self, though that wasn't saying much these days.
The incident was still playing on Severus' mind come evening. He couldn't fathom why Potter would have been so upset by a miscast spell. Surely there must be more to it? Severus was determined to find the answers eventually. For now though, he had other students to consider.
Dean Thomas was polite and cheerful. He smiled pleasantly and conversed with ease. He was happy. Just not as happy as he had been before. Like many of his peers, Severus noted, Thomas had been forced to mature very quickly and, in the process, had lost much of his youthful spark.
After the usual inquiries about his return to Hogwarts and how he was getting on, Severus cut to the chase.
"I hear you spent some time at Malfoy Manor?"
Dean chuckled humorlessly. "You make it sound like a holiday home."
"I have no illusions that it was anything of the sort." Snape replied earnestly and Thomas' own demeanor went serious in turn.
"No, it wasn't, but I actually wasn't there for any time at all. Barely a flying visit."
"Oh? I'm afraid I'm still putting together all the details of the war. I know you weren't at school last year, of course. You were on the run?"
"Yeah, that's right. Spent a lot of the year camping, moving around and keeping a low profile. I wasn't the only one and I linked up with a few people on the way. Eventually the Snatchers got us though."
Severus nodded; it was a common story. "And that's how you came to be at the Manor?"
"Yeah, they were going to take us to the Ministry like they usually did, but then Harry, Ron and Hermione turned up. That changed things."
"They decided they could cut out the middle man."
"Pretty much. Anyway, it didn't seem like a great thing at the time but it ended up being quite fortunate."
"You escaped." Severus said somewhat needlessly.
"Yep." His lips quirked happily. "I have a new philosophy on life. If you're in any kind of trouble, it's good to have Harry Potter there in trouble with you."
Severus had to role his eyes. "Indeed." He drawled. The boy had a point though; Potter was ridiculously lucky when it came to getting out of scrapes. Though perhaps 'lucky' wasn't the right word. "Where did you all go?"
"Stayed at Bill Weasley's after that, along with Luna and Mr Ollivander. They'd been prisoners of the Malfoys for a while. "Thomas informed with a grimace before brightening again. "It was nice there, though, right by the sea. And I got to know Luna a lot better."
Severus raised a knowing eyebrow which Dean caught. "Oh, not in that way!" He objected. "We became friends, that's all. She's weird, sure, but at the same time she's pretty awesome." Dean shook his head as if completely bemused by the girl. "Once you get to know Luna, you see that she's really quite insightful." Snape looked skeptical. "Anyway, it was just nice to have a friendly face around; someone my age to talk to."
Severus frowned. "Did you not have your fellow Gryffindors to speak to?"
"Oh they were there, but we didn't see much of them." Dean explained. "They were always holed up in another room, planning their next big mission."
"Mission?" Severus asked with interest.
"They'd never speak about it or tell the rest of us what they were planning. I think it drove Ron's brother a little mad to be honest."
"So you've no idea what they were planning?"
"Well I wouldn't say 'no idea'." Thomas said with a knowing look.
"Oh?"
"The morning they left was the day of the battle of Hogwarts. It wasn't well reported afterwards because of everything else that happened, but something went down at Gringotts that day – a goblin massacre."
Severus had heard the story, but as Thomas said, it had been overshadowed by the Dark Lord's demise and, to be blunt, the deaths of some goblins didn't mean nearly as much to the Wizarding press. "You think the three of them were involved?"
"Rumour has it a dragon escaped through the roof. That sounds like the kind of crazy thing those three would be involved with." Snape snorted. "That, and the fact that the only one they let in on their secret planning meetings was Griphook, the goblin that escaped the Snatchers with us."
"Ah." That certainly did suggest that the Golden Trio were involved in whatever occurred at Gringotts that day, Severus thought. Perhaps he would be able to get more details from Potter at their next meeting, though, annoyingly, that was just under 2 weeks away still. In the meantime he would ask around; whatever happened at Gringotts, it looked as though it may have been the catalyst to the final battle.
Looking at the clock, Severus realised that he might not have to wait two weeks for answers. His next meeting was with Ronald Weasley and, as far as Severus remembered, the boy had never been particularly close-lipped. He didn't imagine much could have changed.
But, quite unexpectedly, Ronald Weasley provided Severus with a new challenge. He came in with confidence, shirt untucked and sleeves rolled up.
"Mr Weasley."
"Professor Snape." They greeted each other formally.
Severus was surprised by how amicable the young man was being as he offered him a seat and beverage. Of all his students, Severus had expected reluctance and indignation most from Weasley, but here the youngest male was polite and smiling, accepting his bitter coffee with grace.
"So, Mr Weasley, how are you settling in?" The Professor asked his final student.
"Er, Professor? You said we don't have to talk about stuff in these meetings, right?" The kid asked instead of answering.
"That is correct, Mr Weasley, while attendance is mandatory, the choice to answer my questions is your own."
"Cool, then I choose that." Weasley took a sip of his coffee.
Severus frowned in confusion. "You choose what?"
"Not to talk." Weasley answered simply.
"Mr Weasley, I only asked how things were going." Snape reasoned.
Ron shrugged. "Yeah, I'm still not talking."
"So, you intend to sit here in silence for the next 20 minutes, regardless of the questions I ask?"
Weasley nodded. "Pretty much." He shrugged again. "I'm exercising my right to silence."
"I see." Severus wasn't sure what he could do about this development. He was prepared for hostility and belligerence but Weasley wasn't being rude or defiant, he was calm and rational, and that made him much more difficult to argue with.
"Hermione called it a – " His pupils swiveled to the top left corners of his eyes as he searched for the words. "A 5th Amendment defense." He grinned that he managed to get it right but Snape just stared back at him so he explained. "It's a muggle thing."
"Yes, I am aware of what it is."
"Oh, well, that makes one of us then." Ron chuckled awkwardly into the silence.
Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the fully grown boy opposite him.
"Very well," Severus sighed. "I will ask my questions, feel free to remain silent and drink your coffee." He waved a dismissive hand at the cup and saucer on the table.
Weasley gave him a goofy grin in return and Severus shook his head at him, allowing his eyes to roll heavenward as they wished.
The rest of their meeting followed in just the manner Professor Snape had described. He asked his student about school and playing quidditch; about his plans for the future and his experiences in the past. In between each question, Snape left long periods of silence just in case Ron should wish to answer, though he never did and Snape respected his decision by never pushing him for a response.
When enough time had passed, Snape concluded the meeting. "Very well, Weasley. You have successfully completed your period of self-enforced silence. You may now go."
So much for answers, Severus thought when the young man had gone, it looked as though he'd have to wait two weeks after all.