I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money from this.

As one might expect, the days leading up to OWL exams were a bit stressful.

In a wild stroke of luck, Potions was scheduled to be the first of the OWL's given in the upcoming week. The exam was one of the more complex ones, with a written portion that everyone would sit at the same time, and a practical section that they'd take individually to demonstrate their brewing skills. As there were only so many testing administrators available, the students would have to be separated into smaller groups for that portion.

Constance was thankful that her exam would be first so that she could be done with the ruddy thing and focus on the other class work she had. Professor Snape had been surlier than usual during the past week, constantly reminding them that nothing less than an 'Outstanding' would be accepted if they wished to continue on to NEWT level Potions. She always felt the weight of his dark stare fall upon her when he said it as well. As if to punctuate that he would be particularly displeased with her should her score dare to come back outside of his accepted range. And a particularly displeased Snape usually meant an increase in his torture of Gryffindor house. Not that such an inane thing should affect her approach to the upcoming test, of course, but the pressure was there all the same.

Unfortunately, the Potions OWL just so happened to be scheduled on the same day as Buckbeak's execution – which threw a huge monkey wrench into the plans she had made with her friends.

"You sure you won't be able to come with us?" Harry asked as they made their way downstairs for a late breakfast.

Connie frowned thoughtfully. "It doesn't look like it." She replied. "It all depends on how long the brewing portion takes. I won't know what potion I have to make until I go in and the way they have it set up… well, let's just say I might be waiting for a while."

Ron made a face. "Potions is your best subject though. You could bang something out in no time!"

Hermione reached over to smack his shoulder. "Shut it, Ron!" She admonished. "This isn't just any test. It's the OWL!" The girl turned back to give her a reassuring look. "Don't listen to him, Connie. Stay focused and don't get in a rush to finish. OWLs are important and Hagrid knows that. He'll understand if you can't be there."

Constance sighed and nodded. She'd still try her best, but in this situation there was only so much she could do.

Being a Sunday, most of the older students had chosen to enjoy their last chance at freedom in Hogsmeade before the school week began - leaving the castle more sparsely populated than usual. When they reached the Great Hall, there was only a handful of people there. They spotted Fred and George chatting away with a tired looking Mihnea at one of the tables and decided to head over to join them.

"What are you guys doing here?" Ron asked as they sat down. "I thought you'd be out with Lee?"

The twins shook their heads in unison. "Nah."

"He's been chasing after that Foster girl in Hufflepuff for a while." George explained. "Finally convinced her to go out with him."

Fred waggled his eyebrows. "They're studying." He said, punctuating the last word with air quotes.

Constance rolled her eyes. No further explanation was needed. Reaching for a piece of toast, she shot a curious glance toward her cousin. "You're up early."

"Late." He corrected with a slight shake of the head. "I haven't been to sleep yet."

"Ah ha." Fred said knowingly. He gave him a playful nudge in the side. "That girl of yours keep you up all night?"

Mihnea shot a sideways look at him and the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were about to smile but was holding it back. "Something like that." He replied, then shrugged. "Between Luna and Pixie there was no room left in the bed, and I didn't feel like sleeping on the floor."

Ron's mouth fell open, revealing a wad of scrambled eggs he'd just shoveled into it. "You have a girl asleep in your room?" He asked. "How?"

The Slytherin boy's nose wrinkled up in distaste at the show of bad manners. "Maybe you don't realize this Weasley, but girls tend to pass out when they've been kept awake for a long time. Especially when they haven't been sleeping much to begin with. I'll wake her up and send her on her way eventually."

That got the twins' attention. "Whoa! Wait, she's down there right now?" George demanded.

"What about roommates?" Fred went on. "How do you keep them from…?"

"Slytherins have private rooms." Her cousin interrupted smoothly. "I locked and warded the door when I left and she knows the rules. She'll be fine."

"Private rooms!?"

Fred and George looked positively scandalized by the thought that members of one house got to have their own private quarters while the others were forced to share their living space. Constance imagined it was more from a desire to have a private area of their own to get up to more trouble in than disapproval for the idea itself. Meanwhile, Hermione's mouth gaped open like a fish.

"You do realize how… how inappropriate that is?"

Mihnea looked at her blandly. "You do realize I don't give a damn?" he said, throwing her words back at her. His eyes narrowed when it looked like she was preparing a rebuttal. "What did I tell you about picking fights with me?"

Connie watched as her friend's mouth opened for a split second only to quickly close again. She couldn't tell whether she realized it was a fight she wouldn't win or merely decided it wasn't worth it. Perhaps she should check her temperature. It was unusual for Hermione to back down so quickly…

"You're a right ass, you know." The bushy haired girl hissed.

Mihnea smirked in response. "Why, thank you Granger. I'll take that as a compliment."

"I didn't mean it as one."

Never mind. Connie thought. She's fine.

Shooting a look at her cousin to warn him off provoking any arguments, she turned her attention back to filling her plate. She hadn't eaten very much the night before and found herself famished. Soon enough, her plate was decorated with a sampling of the various foods laid out for them to choose from. She was spooning a final serving of eggs onto the dish when she felt Harry gently elbow her in the side.

"Your owl looks a bit loaded down."

Constance blinked and turned her gaze toward the ceiling, searching for Archimedes. He had entered through an opening on the far side of the hall and was slowly making his way toward them. A decent sized parcel was clutched in his talons, and from the way he was furiously beating his wings to stay aloft, she gathered it was heavier than he was used to. Mihnea noticed his approach as well. Once the bird was close enough, he rose from his seat to grab the package and offered an arm for him to land on. Archimedes looked thankful to have the burden taken from him. He carefully folded his wings and stretched each of his legs in turn as Mihnea sat back down. Constance stretched out a hand in offering and the owl happily hopped over to it, moving up her arm to settle on her shoulder.

"That looked heavy, yeah?" She cooed. She picked through her collection of bacon slices and selected one that looked the most under cooked. "Have a treat."

Archimedes took the meat from her fingers and preened in satisfaction. Connie ran her fingers through the feathers on his chest, and then watched with a smile as he spread his wings again to fly off. She turned back to regard the package he'd brought.

"What is it?"

"Treats from home, I expect." Mihnea replied.

He made quick work of the tape with nails and pulled the flaps of the box open. Inside, there was a tin of various treats Aunt Syn had made, a collection of dark colored bottles of varying sizes – Mihnea's blood, she supposed - a small collection of letters addressed to the two of them, and a few other random things. Her cousin's eyes lit up as he lifted up a small item for inspection.

"Yes!" He exclaimed in excitement. "Now I won't lose my mind while I'm taking those bloody tests!"

It was his mp3 player. Mihnea set it to the side and dug around to search for the headphones that went with them. Hermione blinked at the sight of the object and cleared her throat.

"I wouldn't get too excited if I were you." She commented knowledgeably. "Muggle technology doesn't work here. Surely you know that?"

Mihnea paused in rifling through the package long enough to shoot a look of annoyance at her. "I'm sorry, Granger. I must have spent a whole five years here without ever hearing that. How on earth did I survive without a know-it-all third year like you to set me straight?"

The girl bristled. "You don't have to be a git about it." She hissed at him. "I'm only saying there's no point in getting so worked up about having that thing when you won't be able to use it. There's too much magic here…"

Mihnea snorted as he plugged in the headphones he'd found. "Too much magic." He muttered.

"There is!" She insisted. Had she been standing, Connie was sure she'd be stomping her foot. "Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley are the same way. When there's a large population of wizards and witches in a location for long periods of time…"

"Uh huh." He mumbled, ignoring her as he fiddled with the buttons.

"It produces a magical effect that interferes with muggle electronics." She continued on. "There is simply no way…"

"Fascinating." Mihnea deadpanned. "Well, since you're the expert on this subject, would you care to explain this?"

He flipped the mp3 player around and held it up for her to see. The screen was lit up brightly, displaying the menu options and when he flicked the volume control on the side, the faint sound of music poured forth from the earphones laying on the table. Hermione gaped in astonishment. Mihnea cocked his head to the side as her mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

"Nothing to say?" He prodded, raising a brow at her.

The girl looked utterly confounded as to how to respond. The boys, meanwhile, seemed to find the sight of Hermione Granger sticking her foot into her mouth amusing. The whole lot of them were trying to suppress their snickering. Well… Harry and Ron were anyway. Fred and George weren't of the mind to restrain themselves from laughing openly at someone when they felt they deserved it. Hermione flushed red in embarrassment and shrank in on herself, looking like she wanted to disappear. Constance decided she'd had enough of the torture.

"That's enough." She said firmly, shooting a glare at her cousin, then shifting her position to give George a good kick under the table.

"Hey!" Fred cried out with a wince. "What was that for?"

She frowned. Apparently she missed her mark. "I meant that for George, but you deserved one as well. You've had your fun, so stop it."

The pair simpered down a bit, and she turned a hard gaze onto Mihnea, who looked utterly unapologetic. "Do you have to be such a jerk?"

"Yes." He said without hesitation. "I have a daily quota to meet and I've been running behind."

"It's ten in the morning!"

"I told you I haven't been to bed yet." He reminded her with a shrug. "I don't consider it a new day until I've slept, so I'm making up for lost time." He nudged the parcel toward her with a finger. "Do you want your letters, or not?"

With him already acting like a jackass, she sensed that it would be for the best to go ahead and claim the missives. If nothing else, it provided a much needed change to the topic of conversation. Connie leaned across the table to pluck the small stack of letters from the box - noting immediately that they were heavier than messages from home normally were. Perhaps a situation had arisen they felt the need to inform them of? As she flipped through the stack to separate out the ones addressed to her, she happened to feel an odd bulge in one of the envelopes. It was a firm, rectangular shape that implied a smaller envelope of heavier stock paper had been tucked inside. It wasn't just hers either. One of Mihnea's letters felt the same way. That was odd…

Overwhelmed with curiosity, Constance picked up a clean knife from the table to slice it open. Sure enough, a second envelope was inside, wrapped in a blank sheet of paper to keep any details from being seen through its outer encasement. It slipped free as she unfolded the paper and fluttered down to the table. The edges were trimmed in gold foil, and a heavy wax seal was pressed over the fold on the back. Its design was unmistakable.

It was official correspondence from the Royal Family.

"Oooh… Fancy." The twins commented as she picked it up to open it.

Connie felt everyone's eyes fixed on her as she pulled the message itself out to read. It turned out to be a rather informal letter, considering where it came from. The younger members of the Royal family were less picky about such things if they weren't absolutely necessary. The subject at hand was her Debutante ball. Princess Sarah's birthday was in July and her Debutante celebration was tentatively scheduled toward the end of the summer. The Royal Family had been in communication with Hellsing about plans for Connie's own Debutante and were offering to allow her and Princess Sarah to hold the event jointly. It was an enormous honor, but she couldn't help but feel a bit conflicted about it. She had thought she had more time. Under normal circumstances, a Debutante ball would be held in the summer after the 15th birthday, rather than before. It didn't make much difference in the grand scheme of things, she supposed, but the timing of this was... odd. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of worry.

Hoping to find some sort of explanation, Connie chose to open one of the other letters from home. She found what she was looking for in a note from her mother. Apparently, Her Majesty's health had been in decline recently and given her advanced age, there was some concern about how much longer she'd be around. Hellsing enjoyed a comfortable relationship with most of the Royal family and they both seemed to want to move Connie's Debutante up to ensure that the Queen could be present for it.

"Well?" George prodded, looking interested. "What is it?"

She looked up from the parchment, brows furrowed. These things were hard to explain at the best of times, especially to people who had little knowledge of the old traditions of the upper class. There was a risk in saying too much. She had no desire to hide anything from her friends or George, but… trying to explain everything would be impossible. There was just too much involved, and she honestly didn't like thinking about it much herself. No, she decided, it would be for the best to keep things simple. Lord knows the last thing she needed was for someone to get the wrong idea.

"It's about an event to be held in my honor." She finally settled on saying. "It's… like a coming of age celebration. They're usually held when you turn 15, but a proposal has been made to have mine early."

The explanation was met with a chorus of "Ohhh's" from everyone. Hermione studied the missive from the palace with interest.

"Coming of age celebration?" She repeated. "I've heard of something like that before…" she pursed her lips. "I thought those were abolished a long time ago?"

"For the general population, yes, but certain noble families and Her Majesty's inner circle still have them." Constance told her. Sensing that the girl was bound to ask questions she didn't have answers for at the moment, she added: "The Queen is very keen on keeping up with old traditions. It's just a formality."

She did her best to explain the basics without going into too much detail. Everyone was a bit taken aback by the notion of her knowing the Royal family well enough to be offered a chance to share such an important date with a Princess, only for her to remind them that her mother was a member of Her Majesty's Round Table conference. It was to be expected that they would know each other. They couldn't be called bosom buddies or anything, but friendly relationships between the younger members of the two families were encouraged, as it would lead to a stronger working relationship later on in life.

Mihnea, of course, was already familiar with the subject and knew that her Debutante was coming up soon. He was as far from impressed as he could possibly be. "Oh joy. Well, at least now I know what mine is about." He gestured to the odd envelope addressed to him – which he noticeably hadn't opened yet. "She asked me to be her escort ages ago, so I figured the formal request would be showing up soon. At least we can all be miserable together."

"Miserable?" The twins asked in unison.

"What's there to be miserable about?" Fred went on. "A fancy party in a palace where you get to rub elbows with royalty?"

George nodded in agreement and interest. "And you get to be the date of a princess too? Doesn't sound like something to complain about to me."

Mihnea winced. "Glorified bodyguard is more like it." He told him. "Parties and events like this are all the same. They're formal, stuffy, and boring. There are strict rules for how to dress, act, and talk and everyone waltzes around insulting each other in the most creative way possible while still being polite. They're dreadful."

Constance wrinkled her nose. "They aren't that bad." She said. "Why'd you accept Sarah's request if you hate them so much? You could have said no."

Her cousin blanched at the thought. "Are you insane, Connie? Mom would have skinned me alive!" He raised his voice to a high falsetto to imitate Aunt Syn's voice. "Oh my God, Mihnea, you can't say no to a Princess!" He shook his head with a derisive sniff. "Besides, this way I get to see the looks on everyone's faces once they realize what I'm doing there. That alone will make it worthwhile. You know I can't resist the chance to piss off the old bastards."

Yes, that was something that Connie knew all too well. Well, she thought to herself, at least she wasn't as worried about her upcoming exam anymore. The few plans she had for the summer break though? That was a different matter entirely.

I require your assistance in the final stages of the potion we have been working on. Report to my office immediately after the completion of your exam.

Mihnea narrowed his eyes at the message he'd received that morning. Selwyn, much to his surprise, was one of Slytherin house's Prefects, and Professor Snape apparently had her working as his personal runner to ferry messages to him. Strange how he hadn't picked up on that little morsel of knowledge before. The girl was so quiet and unobtrusive; he never would have thought she held such a position. Perhaps Snape saw value in having a Prefect who didn't make a bloody menace of themselves. She had caught up with him on their way down to the exam and passed the slip of parchment along without saying a word. He supposed he should be thankful for that. There were worse messengers the man could have sent.

After the written exam, he had been among the students in the first group called in for the practical portion of the test. It was one of the few graces that came from having a surname that fell early in the alphabet. Mihnea had stalled as long as possible without ruining his potion, but eventually had to relent and bottle up what he'd created to give to the examiner. While he wasn't looking forward to spending the rest of the day locked up with his Head of House, a lower grade was a price he was unwilling to pay. After being dismissed, he made his way of out the Great Hall, pausing for a moment outside the room where the other students were waiting for their turn to go in. He considered having a word with Connie to waste a bit more time, but quickly discarded the idea. There would be chaperones inside – education officials from the Ministry tasked with making sure that students who had finished the exam didn't come back to give inside information to rest. From what he'd seen, all the members of his group had been given different potions with slightly different instructions, so there was little insight he could provide anyway. She would do well enough on her own.

With a deep sigh, Mihnea collected his bag from the area he'd been required to leave it and headed off toward the dungeons. Thankfully, his slow pace paid off in a way. Professor Snape was in the middle of a lesson with a fourth year class of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs when he arrived. Several heads popped up to look in his direction when he opened the door and slid inside.

"Unless you lot are prepared to begin brewing without further instruction, I suggest that you pay attention."

The offending students immediately straightened their backs and turned their attention back to the Potions Master at the front of the room. Snape shot a warning look down his nose at them then glanced toward Mihnea, gesturing toward his office with a jerk of his head. The boy nodded and headed toward his destination as quietly as possible.

Once the door was closed behind him, he put down his bag and started setting up. First on the list was casting a warding spell to prevent any sound from escaping the room. Now that his music was available to him at school, he intended to use it. The cord from the headphones would get in the way during brewing, but his mother had been thoughtful enough to send a small external speaker in the previous day's package. Mihnea pulled it and the mp3 player out of his bag, hooked everything up, then hit the shuffle button and set everything on an open shelf where they'd be out of the way. Next, he grabbed the instructions Snape had left on his desk for him. He read them over carefully, taking note of all the supplies he would need, then went to retrieve the cauldron containing the wolfsbane potion he was tasked with finishing.

He had been a bit surprised when his Head of House had first given him the assignment. Assisting Snape with potions wasn't a regular occurrence, but it wasn't altogether unusual either. If the man was busy with other things, he wasn't above asking Mihnea to keep an eye on what he was brewing until he could tend to it himself. This situation was different though. He wasn't assisting Snape so much as… well, Snape was assisting him, if he were being honest. The professor had given him instructions and monitored his progress, but Mihnea had done all of the work himself. The fact that it was the wolfsbane potion didn't escape his notice either. Mihnea wondered if it was the man's way of imparting knowledge to him that he thought he'd need to know. He had blurted out Ylenia's condition to him after all. Then again, it could have been an underhanded punishment of sorts. Since he refused to stop his association with Professor Lupin, maybe Snape figured he'd think better of it after being forced to brew his 'medicine' himself. Or perhaps it was a combination of the two. That sounded very much like his professor – hindrance and helpfulness twisted so tightly together that you couldn't determine which was which.

The next several hours saw him shockingly left alone for the most part. Professor Snape had his classes to tend to, leaving only the short spans of time between for him to come and check his progress. The man had quirked a brow at the sound of music playing when he first crossed Mihnea's ward, but otherwise made no comment about it. Upon verifying that everything was in order, he signaled his approval with a brisk "carry on" before walking out again. Around lunchtime, one of the house elves responsible for Slytherin house popped in to deliver a tray of food from the kitchens. He made quick work of the meal and when she returned for the dishes, Mihnea took the opportunity to inquire about the ongoing exams upstairs.

"Flipsy has been busy in the kitchens sir, so she hasn't heard." The small creature told him. Her large ears perked up a bit. "But Flipsy can find out if sir wants?"

Mihnea nodded and told her that he would appreciate that very much. The elf vanished, only to reappear a few minutes later to report that there had been a few potions gone bad that had slowed down the exam. A few students in the waiting area had also come down with a mysterious case of explosive diarrhea that caused them to be sent to the Hospital Wing. It sounded like the Weasley twins were getting antsy. At this rate, Constance would probably be stuck in the holding area until late in the evening before her turn finally came.

After confirming that he had indeed finished, the house elf moved to collect the tray. "Does sir need anything else from Flipsy?"

Mihnea thought a moment. "Not right now, no." He told her. "But would it be alright to ask for something later? A midnight snack, perhaps?"

The creature nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, sir!" She said happily. "You's young wizards need good food for learning! You call for Flipsy anytime and she'll make something you like. Flipsy is always happy to help, sir."

He had learned a long time ago that the Hogwarts house elves were the unspoken force that kept the castle running smoothly, and showing them kindness and respect earned their favor. Give the little creatures a biscuit as repayment and they'd be eating out of your hand in no time. They didn't seem like much at first, but they were handy creatures to have on your side in a pinch. He thanked her again for her helpfulness and his acknowledgment had Flipsy beaming in pleasure. She picked up the tray of used dishes and vanished with a small 'pop'.

The next few hours were much the same at the first, with only brief check-ins from Snape. By the time his classes were over for the day, the wolfsbane potion was in its final stage. With all of the ingredients added and the proper stirring protocol out of the way, the cauldron only had to simmer untouched for the next half hour. Having nothing to do but wait, Mihnea propped up his feet on a nearby unused cauldron and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.

"It's rather brazen of you to make adjustments to the wards on my office without permission." A silky voice intoned from the doorway.

Professor Snape must have finished up with whatever cleanup was necessary after his last class. Mihnea turned his head to look at him.

"I didn't want to disturb your classes, sir." He said, daring to indulge in some snarkiness. "I figured the thoughtfulness would be appreciated."

The man's eyes narrowed a hair. "Sass, Mr. Bassarab." He warned. He glanced over at the speaker on the shelf that was still playing music. "I've not seen you bring this in before."

"It arrived from home yesterday." He told him. "It's a…"

"I'm aware of what it is." The Potion's Master interrupted smoothly. "I don't engage with muggle society often, but I am not wholly ignorant." He paused to look over at him. "It is… unusual for muggle technology to function within the castle."

Mihnea fought back the urge to roll his eyes. Part of him wondered what would happen if he made a comment about the professor sounding just like Hermione Granger. Would he get a detention or just have a glass jar broken over his head?

"My family has been experimenting with ways to overcome magical interference." He settled on saying.

One of Snape's brows rose. "Interesting. I've not heard of anyone having success at circumventing that before."

"My mother is very powerful." He said. Unable to resist the opportunity, Mihnea added with a sniff: "I suppose esoteric pursuits can be useful."

His deliberate choice of words didn't go unnoticed. The look the man gave him was piercing. "So I see."

Though the reaction was intense, it appeared that he wasn't going to comment on the matter further. When the man strode over to the cauldron to inspect its contents, Mihnea decided that now was as good a time as any to shut off the music and put his things away. It was currently playing a classical selection, but he wasn't interested in finding out what Snape's reaction to the more… 'unsafe' music on his playlist would be. He'd save that for another day.

Behind him, the professor cleared his throat. "Did you encounter any issues?"

"No, sir." Mihnea replied as he shoved the mp3 player and speaker into his bag. "When I arrived I noticed that a film had built up on the surface during the resting period. I skimmed it off and adjusted the initial temperature to reincorporate the layers that formed. It's in the simmering phase now and should be done in the next 30 minutes."

"Very good." Snape said, looking satisfied with the report. He walked over to his desk and sat down. "Continue to keep an eye on it for now. Any unforeseen flares in temperature can cause globules to form."

Mihnea grit his teeth. Of course he would make him sit there until the damn thing was finished. He had kept a tight control on the flames beneath the cauldron and knew bloody well that there wouldn't be any flare ups. But Snape would have his way come hell or high water and it wasn't worth arguing about. The boy dropped back down in his chair with a quiet huff. He should have brought a book or something.

"How did the transformation go?"

He blinked and glanced toward the desk, not expecting the question. "Excuse me?"

Snape's attention was fixed on the stack of papers he appeared to be grading and he idly dipped his quill into a pot of red ink. "There has been a full moon cycle since you told me of your sister's condition. I was curious if you heard how it went. I understand that the first transformation can be quite brutal even in the most ideal of circumstances. I would imagine it being even more so in the case of a small child."

Mihnea carefully weighed his options. Putting the man off completely had only served to make him more suspicious. Maybe Professor Lupin was right. If he threw him a bone to gnaw upon, perhaps it would keep the Potion Master satisfied enough to divert his attention away from other things. He sucked in a slow breath through his nose.

"I wasn't given any details, but it sounded… rough." He offered.

Snape nodded. He set aside the parchment he'd finished marking and began looking over the next one in the stack. "The potion I've had you working on is a modified version of the more common wolfsbane potion. It is gentler on the system and takes effect more quickly. You won't find the recipe published anywhere. I'll supply you with the instructions if you're interested. You should be aware that some of the ingredients can be expensive. I can acquire them for you if you have any difficulty obtaining them yourself."

Well, there was one suspicion confirmed, Mihnea thought. However, he hadn't expected him to be so open about it. It was a little jarring. As he was thinking over how best to respond, the professor went on.

"I should also tell you that it would be in your best interests not to share this information with anyone else. The brewing of the wolfsbane potion is tightly regulated by the Ministry. The consequences would be quite severe if you were found out."

He studied his Head of House in surprise. "Are you encouraging me to break the law, Professor?"

The man's quill halted in its movements and he turned slightly to regard him. "I'm not encouraging anything, Mr. Bassarab." He said in a meaningful tone. "What you choose to do with the knowledge I give you is your decision. However, I've known you long enough to be aware of the fact that once you put your mind to something, very little is likely to stop you. Especially something as trivial as Ministry regulations."

One of Mihnea's brows went up unbidden. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

"Of course not." His professor replied smoothly with nod of agreement. "And naturally, your considerable skill at Occlumency would prevent anyone from discovering anything to the contrary." He paused a moment in consideration. "You must have had quite an adept teacher. Occlumency is a very difficult skill to learn."

"I didn't…" Mihnea began, only to quickly stop himself once he realized what he was about to say.

The abrupt cut off made Snape arch a brow in interest. "Go on."

He wanted to kick himself. There was no way to get out of the slip up he'd made. Trying would make it look even worse. He sucked in a deep breath. If he ever wished to test the waters to see how the man would react, this would probably be it.

"I didn't… have a teacher."

Snape's look of interest grew. "You taught yourself?"

Mihnea shook his head. "No, I never had to learn anything." He clarified. "It's just… always been there."

He watched silently as the man's eyes widened in understanding. He shouldn't have said anything at all, but he took a fair bit of solace from the fact that there were numerous explanations for some of his magical traits. All of them taken together would be too much, of course, but to reveal one or two? That was more manageable.

The professor tilted his head slightly, looking curious. "Do you mind?"

It wasn't hard to figure out what he was asking. If circumstances had been different, Mihnea might have gotten upset, but the fact that the man respected him enough to ask permission first made him more willing to cooperate. He gave a small nod and met his gaze, knowing that he was trying to breech his mind. After several long moments of staring each other down, Snape blinked. His expression never faltered, but the look in his eyes revealed that he'd put a great deal of effort into the attempt.

"You're completely immune, aren't you?" He asked.

Mihnea slowly inclined his head in response, then hazarded letting go of a bit more information. "It's inherited." He explained. "From my mother. She says we're immune to mental magic."

Snape's brow notched upward again. "All mental magic?" He asked. "That would be quite a list."

"I can't explain why, but we have very good reason to believe that's the case." Mihnea said, deciding that was the best he could offer. "I'm not too keen on having every possible spell shot at me to test that though."

"Nor should you." Snape scoffed. "You'd be a fool to allow it." He studied him intently for a moment. "I've never encountered it personally, but I have heard of this before. It's a rare gift – usually passed down through the female line. To find it expressed in a male to this degree is… rather extraordinary." He cleared his throat and made a gesture toward the still simmering cauldron. "It should be ready for bottling now."

The boy gave the potion a quick once over to make sure everything was as it should be before extinguishing the flames beneath the cauldron. He carefully ladled it out into pre-measured glass vials and corked them. There was enough for twelve doses. A little odd, given that the potion didn't keep for very long. From what he understood, it only remained effective for about 3 months before going bad.

"Sir?" He began, unable to suppress his curiosity. "What do you do with the extras?"

The man glanced over the collection of newly filled vials. "Anything more than what we would use here will be sent to St. Mungo's. Innovation in the field of Lycanthropy has been severely lacking for years now. The healers there are always interested in improvements to their treatment regimen." He took note of the odd expression Mihnea was giving him. "You didn't think I'd allow all of your hard work to go to waste, surely?"

He honestly hadn't any idea of what would be done with the excess, nor had he given it much thought. But knowing that it would be sent to a place where it would do some good was… nice, he supposed. Though if the Potions Master had been doing it the entire time, it was probably a standard practice that had very little to do with him.

"Have you done any work with Legilimency?"

The man's voice broke through his thoughts again, and Mihnea found himself shaking himself back to attention. "Sir?"

"Occlumency and Legilimency are very different skills but they are generally used together." Snape said, gesturing for him to come and sit closer to his desk. "A talent for one usually implies a certain level of ability with the other. Have you practiced it at all?"

Mihnea decided to give up on his fiddling with the potion vials and went to sit down. "I've… experimented." He said, though his practice sessions with mental manipulation weren't exactly the same thing. "Not as much as I probably should. I don't like doing it unless there's no other option."

"And why is that?"

He considered the question for a moment. He had to remind himself to filter out manipulation and suppression techniques from simple memory retrieval, as Legilimency couldn't do those things. Those particular skills weren't an issue. Not his favorite things to do, but not something he had a problem with either. Not that memory retrieval was something he was adverse to exactly, but it was… different.

Navigating the minefield of his feelings on matters like this was always a strange exercise. The issues that did or did not bother him didn't always follow logical patterns, so attempting to parse them out usually left him feeling… weird. It was probably the result of being trapped between two different natures.

"Just foolishness on my part." He said at last.

The look on Snape's face made it clear that he wasn't about to accept that as an answer. "That is in the eye of the beholder, Mr. Bassarab." He told him. "Issues cannot be overcome without facing them. 'Foolishness' is refusing to address them."

Fair point. He thought. Mihnea pondered the subject at hand for a moment, then cleared his throat. "I suppose I've always thought that if I couldn't get the person to tell me what I wanted to know, I could find out through other means." He said. "To jump into someone's head and see a memory through their eyes feels…" He paused. "It's… hard to explain."

"Being forced to consider an alternate perspective makes you question yourself, perhaps?" Snape offered idly.

He blinked at him. That wasn't quite what he'd been thinking, but it came about as close as he imagined words could get. He responded with a slow incline of his head.

Professor Snape clasped his hands together and rested them on the desk in front of him. "There is nothing foolish about having a conscious, Mr. Bassarab. Nor is it a weakness." He said seriously. "So long as it is tempered with objectivity, of course. I dare say most of your housemates could use more of both."

He studied him for a moment, then reached down to open one of his desk drawers. When he withdrew from it, he held a collection of papers in his hand, each one covered in his distinctive scrawl. He extended it across the desk. It looked like the full set of instructions that he'd offered earlier.

"Take it Mr. Bassarab." He instructed. "And remember – this never happened."

Mihnea dutifully leaned forward to accept the stack of notes. "What never happened?"

The Potion Master's dark eyes glittered with approval at his response. He inclined his head in acknowledgement, then glanced toward the collection of vials Mihnea had left near the used cauldron.

"Since you did most of the work, I will see to the cleanup." He told him. "You… may deliver the potion to Professor Lupin if you wish."

Mihnea sat back in his seat and stared at the man in shock. Snape noticed the look on his face and sighed.

"You've made your opinion of the man very clear and I said I would not stop you." He said, and Mihnea picked up the faintest note of resignation in his voice. "I'm feeling unusually charitable at the moment. I suggest you take advantage of it while it lasts."

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Mihnea quickly gathered up his things and grabbed one of the potion vials. As he headed toward the door, he looked back toward the desk.

"Are you… feeling okay, Professor?"

Snape shot a look at him. "Get out of my office, smartass."

"Yes, sir."

Mihnea slid through the door and made himself scarce before his Head of House had another change in mood.

That had been… odd. Better than expected, but odd.

Since his dormitory was nearby, he decided to stop by there first rather than going immediately to Lupin's office. Working over a steaming cauldron all day wasn't exactly pleasant to the senses, and the brew for Lycanthropy was a particularly pungent one. The scent of it clung to his clothes and hair. Stepping out into the fresher air in the hallway only served to intensify it. If he looked anything like he smelled, he wasn't going anywhere in the castle without a shower and change of clothes first.

Once he was cleaned up and outfitted with a fresh set of robes, Mihnea grabbed the potion he'd left sitting on top of his dresser and set off. He was almost to the Common Room when the smell of fresh blood brought him to a halt. Someone was injured. And if the angry screeching pouring out of the room was anything to go by, it was probably Malfoy.

"That filthy mudblood harpy is going to pay!" The boy's voice spat venomously. "My father will have her head for this!"

"Oi, Draco, we should probably go to Madam Pomfrey." Another voice said. He recognized it as belonging to Crabbe. "It looks broken."

"What!? Let me see!" There was a short pause. "Oh… oh, that's a lot. I'm going to be sick."

Mihnea didn't have much time to spare, but indulging his curiosity would only take a moment. He strode into the Common Room with purpose and looked in the direction of the voices as he made his way toward the exit. Draco Malfoy was propped up on one of the sofas, flanked on both sides by his two lackeys. Goyle had a red stained rag clutched in one hand, while Crabbe was holding up a mirror for Draco to study himself in. Malfoy himself didn't look too bad, honestly. A thin line of blood dribbled from his nostrils, but that small amount seemed to be enough to render the younger Slytherin queasy. Mihnea arched a brow at the sight. That's what all the fuss was about? If his nose was broken, and that was a big 'if', it was a fairly mild one. It would be bruised and swollen for a couple of days at the most. The boy's behavior was so pathetic it wasn't even worth laughing at. With a snort of derision, he turned and left the pitiful group behind.

When he finally arrived at the DADA classroom, Mihnea noticed two things. First was that he couldn't detect the presence of any warding spells. The second was that Professor Lupin didn't appear to be there. That didn't necessarily mean much though. While Lupin tended to keep some type of ward up at all times, he supposed that he might have taken the outer ones down if he was expecting a delivery from Snape. However, when he entered the classroom itself, he realized that he couldn't pick up any wards inside either. Frowning, he crossed the room and climbed the short staircase that led up to Lupin's office. Mihnea paused outside the door and pressed his hand against the wood.

Nothing. No spells or wards… no magical signatures at all. There were no sounds or smells to be found either – indicating to him that no one was inside. Knowing what the outcome would be but wanting to check all the same, Mihnea knocked.

"Professor?"

No response. But then, he already knew there wouldn't be one. His brows furrowed. This was… concerning. The classroom itself being unwarded could be explained, but the office was another matter entirely. No teacher at Hogwarts would ever leave their office without magical protections in place. To do so would be an open invitation for untrustworthy students to break in and cause all kinds of mischief. Anyone could have an off day, he supposed, but it was so out of character for Lupin. His feeling of discontent was amplified by how late it was getting. It would be getting dark soon and the wolfsbane potion required a bit of time to settle in and take effect. Professor Lupin knew that and he should have been there. Something wasn't right.

Mihnea shoved the door open and stepped inside, looking around. Nothing seemed amiss at first, then he narrowed his eyes as details jumped out at him. Lupin's chair sat further back from his desk than normal and was turned at an odd angle – like he'd quickly jumped up and shoved it backward. This assessment was confirmed by a quill lying on the floor – ink still dripping from the nib – and an overturned ink pot on the desk. Ink had pooled across several essays the man had apparently been grading, ruining them.

Something had happened to make Lupin rush out in such a hurry that he gave no care to the mess he left behind.

As he was puzzling over what might have transpired there, Mihnea's eyes were drawn toward a large piece of yellowed parchment folded out on the far side of the desk. It was the map that Lupin had confiscated from Potter a couple of months ago. It looked like he had been keeping it open on his desk this whole time. Sensing that it was a clue, Mihnea set down the vial of potion and fingered the corner of the map, turning it slightly to better examine it.

Names littered the surface followed by the image of tiny footprints trailing along behind them. He could see everyone and everything in the castle and the surrounding grounds. Groups of students were reconvening in the Great Hall after supper to finish their OWL. Professors were roaming the hallways and moving about in their offices. He spotted the Minister's name, along with another he didn't recognize (the executioner perhaps?) heading back toward the castle from Hagrid's hut. Well, that went quickly, he thought. Dumbledore was still at the hut with Hagrid, and Potter, Weasley, and Granger looked to be returning to the castle as well, albeit at a slower pace than the Minister. The three of them weren't alone though. Peter Pettigrew, the dead man whose name no one could explain being on the map, was there with them. That was… strange.

But as Mihnea's gaze trailed further along the path they were taking, he saw another name that made him freeze.

Sirius Black. If the trio and their unexplained companion continued on their current course, they were going to run right into him.

Fuck!

He ran.

Had he paid a bit more attention before darting out of the room, he might have noticed two other names on the map that definitely shouldn't have been there.

AN: So… I'm not dead?

I am sincerely sorry for dropping this story for so long. There is no excuse. I suppose I began to realize just how enormous this project is going to be. 64 Chapters in and we're still in third year? The finished version will probably wind up being hundreds of chapters long. Needless to say, it got overwhelming. However, the storyline has remained with me all this time and I have never stopped thinking about it. I've been rebuilding all of the notes I was working from, and I have a general idea of how this is going to work from here on out.

I'm aiming to post a new chapter every 2-3 weeks. I'm probably going to be gradually going back to make slight changes and corrections to previous chapters as I have time to. I'm going to keep the author notes to a minimum from here on out unless something important comes up. Please don't be offended if I don't respond to reviews as often as I used to. I'm in a more demanding and stressful period in my life, so I don't always have time to address every comment and question. But I do read them all and every single one is greatly appreciated. It is the reviews I've gotten during my absence that really prodded me into taking up this story again. Even if only a handful of the original readers still have interest in seeing it completed, then that's enough to make it worth it.

Once again, I am very, very sorry for disappearing for so long. I'm going to get this train back on the tracks and moving forward. And as always, please leave a review and let me know what you think.