It was later, now, Harry thought, as he came down the stairs again. He was relieved that no one had seen him the first time, and even more relieved that nobody was here the second.

Coming at him one at at a time had been their first mistake. It wouldn't be their last, Harry knew.

Because their second mistake had been leaving him alive and kicking.

Harry Potter was out of the Common Room quick as a wink. Days of listening to the twins had taught him who to be wary of, late at night - and their likely hiding places.

So, this was how Harry found himself going up, not down. For he had a bit of a mission, and a few crunchy bugs as a bribe. "Could you please provide a distraction, if I need it? I have a mission of utmost urgency." Harry Potter found himself asking a portrait of a knight (who had full plate that klinked and a lance too). Sir Galahad the writing below the portrait proclaimed him, and Harry carefully didn't scoff at the brash claim.

"What mission sends a child too young to be esquired out this late at night?" The man's voice rapped out like a drill sergeant's, though there was a flowing quality in it, almost melodious.

"Only research. Scouting the lay of the land if you will." Harry Potter said promptly. The twins had said to be direct.

"Very well, for your courtesy in the asking, you will have my assistance, should the need arise."

"A favor for your time." Harry Potter said smoothly, passing the portrait a small drawing of oranges.

"Ah! I knew you for a knight, in heart if not in vow. Keep chivalry strong in your heart, and you'll say the vows soon enough." The knight grinned broadly, "You'd best be off."

Harry Potter nodded silently, and strode off as quickly as he could manage, his footsteps silent as a matter of habit. Chivalry! Of all the labels Harry Potter had been labeled, that one seemed to chafe, like a bandaid starting to peel, as the scar beneath itched and begged to be pulled off.

Down. One staircase, and then a second, Harry went down. Towards the dungeons, towards the places where fools wished to scrap with Harry Potter.

Harry didn't know all that much about fighting, he thought consideringly. Of course, knowing muggle fistcuffs would be worse than useless, around here. And, from the 5th year textbook he'd nicked, it was rather difficult to learn shielding spells when he was this young. Not that it would stop him from succeeding. It just wouldn't be ready before his next detention.

Which was tomorrow.

Harry did, however, know a hundred different ways to run. And being small, and slender, and able to dodge the worst of the spells would come in handy. But, to really succeed - even in such a small way as to not get hurt, Harry Potter had to know the lay of the land. And that meant learning every nook and cranny of the dungeons.

They weren't dank, merely dark, and kind of gloomy, in a way. Harry Potter was glad that he wasn't living down here, but he felt that if he had to live down here, that it wouldn't have been intolerable. Which, he guessed, was kind of the point. Just another way to rub salt in the "Slytherins Unwelcome" vibe that they were nourishing around here.

Or, you never knew, Snape might have requested it. As choleric as the man seemed in class, a pervasive sense of gloom clung to the man. Harry Potter found himself curious, almost despite himself.

Left. Right, long corridor. Short corridor, dead end. Harry Potter was busy mapping the whole thing out in his head. At the end of his perambulations, Harry Potter finally figured out what he was missing. It was one thing to know how to go, how to find places that nobody went, places that had bends and empty doorways and good vantage points.

It was another to know the quickest way out. Harry Potter tried to remember where the exit upward was, retracing his steps. Nodding, eventually, as five false starts later, he had managed to reach the exit.

He promptly turned the other way, and found each turn to make himself as lost as possible, as far away from the exit as he could.

Harry Potter closed his eyes, sending his awareness back to his closet, back to the darkness as his breathing steadied. He opened his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and began to sing, in a clear soprano that echoed down the halls.

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond
Me and my true love were ever wont to gae
On the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond

Ye'll tak' the high road and I'll tak the low road
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye
But me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond

Harry Potter kept singing, even as he heard the muffled thumps of - yes, that was Professor Snape's gloomy visage appearing from about a corner. Still singing, Harry nearly smiled, as Snape snarled at him, before the professor wrenched his wand out of his pocket, sending a silencing spell at the foolish boy.

The quickest way out was easily found at Snape's heel (Snape had Potter's upper arm in a vise grip, as he slowly snarled threats for daring to wake him in such a flagrant manner. Harry Potter was saved from needing to answer by Snape's own silencing spell). Harry Potter wasn't listening carefully, as he was working hard to memorize the quick way out. Not, he thought, that he'd be likely to use it himself. Surely all the Slytherins knew it, and used it regularly.

"It's a good thing your voice isn't as dire as your father's, or I'd be more strongly considering feeding you to Filch's cat. Always has a big appetite, that one" Snape hissed at Potter, as they approached the Fat Lady. Harry controlled the urge to stare, Snape knew my father?! Harry Potter blinked, and then remembered that Dumbledore had said that both his parents had gone to Hogwarts. Snape was... of an age to have been in classes with them, Harry determined. Not that he'd have thought of that before.

Harry wasn't exactly surprised when Snape snarled at the Fat Lady, saying "Open up, and be quick about it."

She opened quietly, and Harry was more flung than escorted inside (Snape staying outside).

"Never Again." Snape spat at him, and then - eyes narrowing - he said, "Not a word of this, to anyone."

And now that was curious, Harry thought, as he started to work on his mental map, drawing it down onto paper. Why would Snape care so, that he'd escorted Potter back to his tower?

[a/n: Write a review? What's Snape up to? What, exactly, is Harry doing?]