A/N: Ok everyone, Chapter 10! It's very very late (or, perhaps more accurately, quite early) … but I couldn't sleep until I got this up and posted for everyone. Luckily, I've taken the next two days off so I can have a lie-in J Sorry this instalment is a little later coming than I expected – I was unexpectedly quite busy at work these past few days. It is also a little bit shorter than I anticipated, as I decided to cut a scene until next time for fluidity's sake. In any case – enjoy! A few review responses below of course – and a huge thank you to all who read and reviewed!

Alicia Olivia Mirza: (response to Chapters 8 & 9) I'm glad you enjoyed these chapters – and thank you for your reviews! Yes, Albus and Minerva for now… but I'm not sure that's what Harry wants to stick with (we see some of his awkwardness/hesitation here). So perhaps that will develop further in future. Wandless magic and patronus charms… well, we've certainly seen from Snape's reaction how foolish that decision was. We've yet to see how Albus and Minerva will react, or how Harry's summer schedule will play out in the aftermath… but I think you'll find some of that explored in the coming instalment. Enjoy chapter 10!

SpringRoll: (response to Chapter 9) I'm so pleased you liked the chapters so much! There's a LOT of Severus's different personality facets in there, and I'm glad you enjoyed that part of it. Certainly when Sirius gets there, things will likely get very, VERY muddled. Should be interesting… And I tip my hat to your recognition of the mandrake leaf reference as well – not many would have recognised that as a detail that is actually canon from JKR. I hope you enjoy the next instalment. Thank you for your review!

Nurmengard: (response to Chapter 9): Thank you for your review! Yes – we will definitely see Grindelwald again before the summer comes to a close. Don't forget – it has only really been a few weeks or so since Albus paid his last visit (with the diary in tow near the end of term) – his second visit since the start of the year, after avoiding the man for nearly fifty years… we must take it slowly. But, then again, Gellert certainly left Albus with much to consider at the end of their last encounter – and Albus is not the type to forget those revelations in a hurry. Nor is he keen to confide the horcrux revelations in anyone else – we've already seen him have an opportunity to do so with Snape, and (thus far) he has resisted. I think in the next few chapters we will get a glimpse into the continuation of that storyline.

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DISCLAIMER: Any and all familiar characters and story lines are the property of the wonderful Joanne Rowling, in whose world I am honoured and privileged to have an opportunity to play for a while.

Chapter 10: Poisonous Toadstools Don't Change Their Spots

Severus meant the threat when he gave it. He really did.

He wanted Lupin to drag his foolish, chastened arse right up to Albus and Minerva, and explain how his reckless enthusiasm had overridden his sensibilities, and nearly done their Golden Boy serious injury. He wanted to watch the man stutter through his remorseful apology. He wanted Minerva to hex the wolf so badly, he'd be lucky to see the next cycle of the moon. He wanted Dumbledore to throw him out of the damn castle. He wanted to stand back and watch the fallout, without having to open his own mouth.

In theory.

In reality… Severus just couldn't resist. Patience, after all, was never a quality he'd been renowned for.

So he headed straight up to the headmaster's quarters upon leaving Lupin and Potter, pausing only for a moment in the corridor to send an elf down for the promised draught. In his opinion, the walk did wonders for the head of steam he'd been working toward since catching sight of Potter from the doorway to the office, fanning the flames until Severus thought he could properly set fire to the next person who dared cross him with the strength of his glare alone.

He gave a cursory knock on the door, but burst in before Albus could even offer an answer. He was lucky – the headmaster was alone at his desk when Severus barged inside.

'You need to chain your wolf!' he barked without preamble, dark eyes blazing.

To his maddening disbelief, the headmaster merely looked amused, setting his handsome eagle feather quill into a pot of violet ink and leaning back more comfortably into his chair.

'Severus,' he said in a placating voice, 'We've spoken on this subject before. Remus is a perfectly qualified, rational man. He is an asset to the school. And his relationship with Harry is –'

'Is going to ensure the foolish brat meets an early death!' Severus cut across him angrily.

Albus' gaze turned steely. 'We have been over this,' he said, caution in every syllable. 'Remus is not aiding Sirius Black, nor would he ever.'

Severus actually growled in frustration, striding across the room. He slammed both his hands on the headmaster's polished desk. The force of his blow sent the violet ink pot tumbling off the edge, marring the handsome carpet. Fawkes gave an indignant squawk of protest from his golden perch.

Albus gave him an admonitory glare as he righted the mess upon the floor.

'I am not speaking of Black, though we are not in agreement there, either' Severus spat contemptuously, refusing to be dissuaded. 'Lupin, however, can do quite enough damage on his own. I have just come from his den, where his lessons were sending Potter into a state of collapse.'

'What are you talking about, Severus?' Albus asked, though a hint of worry coloured his tone now.

'Potter spent the better part of three hours the morning learning to harness his magical core,' Severus began.

'And did you get there?' the headmaster interrupted, looking interested.

'We did,' Severus said drily. 'Like harvesting dragon heartstring from a live beast – but he was successful in the end,' he said ungraciously. 'He was, as undoubtedly you must realise, fairly exhausted when I called an end for the day.'

'Naturally,' Albus agreed with a nod. He was beaming. 'But I knew he could do it. What excellent news!'

'Did you also know,' asked Severus with a steely tone, 'That Lupin was intending to teach the boy the patronus charm this very afternoon? After I explicitly impressed upon Potter the dangers in overuse of magic after such a trying tutorial?'

Albus frowned again. 'I knew that Remus intended to discuss warding off Dementors with Harry, yes,' he said slowly. 'As did you, Severus, as I relayed the information over the week-end. But I am quite certain that neither Remus nor you would have selected this afternoon as the appropriate hour to begin the attempt, if the morning was such a trial.'

'I would not,' Severus agreed huffily. 'And knowing the brat's absolute inability to do anything he is told; I should have seen to speaking with Lupin myself. An oversight I shall not repeat in future. But even so, I was not aware I was contending with such an utter imbecile masquerading as some imitation of a teacher. For, you see, I was unaware that Lupin's ingenious scheme for simulating a Dementor attack was to utilise a boggart as some sort of macabre incarnation of Potter's worst nightmare, and set said creature lose in hopes the boy would produce a charm to repel it. Were you labouring in similar ignorance, Albus?'

He felt a grim sense of satisfaction as Albus' face grew paler. 'Is Harry alright?' asked the headmaster immediately.

'For now,' Severus admitted grudgingly. 'But I make no promises if you continue to allow that insipid fool to continue.'

'Remus did not know,' Albus said defensively. 'I did not think of it. Remus' scheme for the boggart was not entirely rash – I myself thought it rather a good idea; though I do admit I had not anticipated he would move to practical simulation quite so quickly. And it should not have been today, of all days… I should have spoken to Remus myself; you should have –'

'The boy should have!' Severus snarled. 'He was as aware as any of the dangers in proceeding with such spellwork. I could not have been clearer in my instruction. But that does not excuse Lupin's imprudence. He is attempting to teach the boy magic far too advanced for his age.'

'Are you not attempting the same, Severus?' Albus asked shrewdly. 'Most would consider wandless magic far too advanced for a thirteen-year-old child. Twelve, really, at the moment.'

'Hardly comparable, Albus,' Severus scoffed dismissively. 'I am doing exactly as we discussed – I am teaching him in wandless magic, which may well prove to be an integral part of his education and a tool for later. You yourself thought it a wise idea. Lupin is playing with fire – the boy has no need to learn the patronus charm at this stage, and the instruction will bring nothing but problems for us all. He should not be attempting such spells after exhausting his magical core in wandless tutorials, and he is unlikely to have success at any rate, which can only compound the profligacy. I insist you put an end to it at once.'

'I'm disinclined to acquiesce,' the headmaster insisted. 'Harry's abilities in defensive magic are well beyond his years – exceptional, even. Remus intimated only this morning that he has already shown the beginnings of success with the patronus. And I gave my consent to that study, just as heartily as I granted your own request.'

Severus glared, but did not reply. He felt the taste of bile sting his throat.

'You are perfectly right to be concerned that we are overtaxing him to compound wandless practise and advanced defensive lessons in one afternoon, of course,' Albus continued. 'In fact, such concern is really quite touching, Severus,' he added.

Severus gave a disgusted noise. 'I tire of repeating myself,' he said, 'But my concern, Albus, stretches only so far as it would seem all our miserable fates are tied to the boy's success or failure… and my own promises. And yet, as ever, it would seem that I must be the one to step in where all others in this castle appear to have averted their eyes for the sake of indulgence.'

Albus' own eyes were twinkling. 'Whatever the case may be,' he continued, wisely dropping the disagreement, 'I see no reason why a simple adjustment to the timetable would not suffice as a solution for everyone. Harry could work with me in the afternoons on days where he is in wandless tutorials in the mornings; or we could reverse the day so he meets with you after luncheon.'

'I don't want the brat when he's half-dead from the Dementors' effects,' Severus complained. 'Nor will he be much use to you, or Minerva, after one of those lessons,' he griped.

Albus looked anxious again. 'Was it quite as bad as all that?' he asked with a frown.

'Yes,' Severus insisted grimly. 'You did not see the child, Albus. The boggart may not retain the full powers of a true Dementor, but it is quite enough to knock Potter unconscious for several minutes and drain him of energy. Even without the after effects of the wandless magic, I doubt his reaction would have been much reduced. The wolf himself admitted he had a similar episode before. If you are insistent in letting the pair of them persist in this reckless endeavour, Lupin will need to keep his allotted afternoon placement.'

Albus considered a moment. 'Very well,' he said at last. 'Then, perhaps, we shall keep Harry in Potions on Monday and Wednesday mornings, Transfiguration and Charms with Minerva straight after lunch, and Defence in the later portion of the afternoon. You can teach him in wandless magic on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and he can be with me those afternoons.'

'And Fridays?' Severus pressed. Albus stared over the tops of his spectacles at him, a half-smile on his lips.

'I would prefer to give him some semblance of a holiday,' he insisted. 'I'll leave Fridays for his amusement. I daresay he'll need it, with such a busy week.'

Severus rolled his eyes. Time Potter was not occupied, in his opinion, meant time the insufferable brat was likely to spend getting himself into far too much mischief. 'He takes twice as many lessons during the year,' he pointed out.

Albus smiled in full now. 'Ah, but only half as many with you,' he countered, with twinkling eyes. Severus glared – not nearly as amused.

'Have it your way,' he said, crossing his arms before him. 'But do not expect me to lessen my expectations of the boy.'

'I would not dare to suggest it, Severus,' said Albus with an irritating wink. 'Did you leave Harry quite well, or should I worry that Minerva will have my head?'

Severus glowered. 'He should be recovered enough by dinner,' he said dryly.

'And Remus?' Albus pressed, with a knowing look.

'Will no doubt feel the weight of his own misjudgement,' Severus said, unrepentant. 'I'll leave you then, headmaster,' he added, disappointed at the lack of explosion.

He doubted that Minerva would be quite so nonchalant.

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'Remus Lupin, have you quite taken leave of your senses!'

Any sound of Minerva throwing open the door was thoroughly drowned by her shriek. One look at her livid expression told Remus that Severus had clearly shared the events of the afternoon. Remus jumped, nearly scalding himself as he tipped over his tea in shock.

On the sofa, Harry stirred, awakening at the shrill tone just as suddenly as if he'd been doused with the steaming beverage himself. He scrambled up to a seated position at once, following Remus' wary gaze toward the doorframe.

'Have you any idea,' Minerva continued, 'What might have happened today? What in Merlin's name were you thinking? Harry might have –'

Harry seemed to understand the situation in an instant. He shook his head as he gazed imploringly at Minerva's furious face. 'It wasn't Remus' –'

'Not a word from you, Harry Potter!' Minerva chastised, drowning Harry's explanation before it could take off. She slammed the door shut as she crossed the threshold into the office, sending the portraits on the wall trembling and their occupants muttering indignantly. One wispy little old witch actually fled her frame in alarm.

Remus could see Harry take a visible gulp.

'Of all the ridiculous, reckless ways to teach! Letting him cast at a boggart!'

'Albus was aware of the –'

'I do not care what Albus was or was not aware of!' Minerva ranted, her hair coming down from its elegant bun. 'Rest assured I will be having a word with him next!'

'I take it you've spoken with Severus,' Remus said calmly. 'But I promise you, Minerva, it wasn't–'

'It was my fault, ma'am,' Harry put in, rising from the sofa. 'I was supposed to tell –'

'Sit down, before you fall down!' Minerva barked back. 'You look dead on your feet as it is.'

Harry bristled at once, though he returned to the sofa. 'I'm not a toddler!' he snapped.

'You are not an adult either!' Minerva retorted, fire blazing in her eyes. 'And those responsible for your welfare should not forget it!' she added, turning her ire back to Remus. He bowed his head, repentant. It was, more or less, what Severus had charged him with.

'We have all been a little too hasty today,' he admitted. 'It will not happen again.'

'No, it will not,' Minerva agreed. 'Because I am calling an end to these lessons at once.'

'You can't!' Harry gasped, horrified.

'I most certainly can,' Minerva disagreed. 'You are here under our care and supervision. We are responsible for your wellbeing. I will not have you jeopardising your health and magic by engaging in such foolish activity! You may continue studying defensive spells with Remus as the headmaster permitted, but you will not be practising on any more boggart-Dementors, and we will not be having a repetition of this afternoon.'

'Minerva, surely there is another way to proceed,' Remus put in, before Harry could dig himself farther into the grave. 'An adjustment to the schedule, perhaps, or some other sort of compromise.'

Minerva's nostrils were flared; her lips pursed so hard they were nearly bloodless. Remus did not think he had ever seen her quite so angry. It was a long moment before she replied.

'I need until dinner to sort through this mess,' she said at last. 'I shall discuss it with Albus.'

She swept from the office again without another word.

Harry slumped back onto the cushions, his head in his hands.

'Don't worry,' Remus said in comfort. 'She'll calm down.'

Harry shook his head, his face still hidden. 'She won't,' he countered. 'It's all my fault, and now I've ruined everything. I should have listened to Snape in the first place – I don't know why I was so stupid!'

'You should have told me,' Remus agreed, seriously. 'But the fault is not entirely yours. I could see that you were not really up for the second attempt, but I allowed my own excitement to cloud my better judgment. Severus and Minerva were both correct – I am the teacher; you are the pupil. I should have stepped in and stopped things before they got out of control.'

Harry rubbed his hands down his face, looking miserable. 'I was afraid you wouldn't let me try if I told you what I'd been up to with Snape,' he admitted quietly.

'I would not have,' Remus said sternly. 'But we would have rescheduled. It is very difficult at your age – I remember. You feel as if everyone around you is making all the decisions about your life, and sometimes that they are acting deliberately over-cautious. But we all must learn where our limits lie, Harry. Sometimes, the only way we truly know is when we push beyond them. You are hardly the first to do so, I promise you; but you would be remiss if you did not learn from the experience.'

'Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure I'll remember in future,' said Harry dryly.

Remus chuckled. 'I daresay you'll have plenty to remind you, if you can't,' he joked. Harry gave a weak smile.

'Well,' he added, looking a bit more cheerful. 'Albus must have taken our side, at least. That's something, I suppose.'

Remus cocked his head curiously. 'Why would you say that?'

Harry smirked in earnest. 'Because I've only ever seen Minerva that furious when he didn't agree with her on something.'

Remus smiled too; if the headmaster was behind continuing the lessons, he felt sure they would be permitted to proceed. 'Take the potion,' he said, gesturing to the coffee table where Severus' invigoration draught was set out. 'You'd already fallen asleep when Mina dropped it by, and I didn't want to wake you.'

Harry sighed, but downed the little phial quickly. 'Blech!' he grimaced, pulling a face. 'Speaking of people making all of my decisions - they're always making me take these horrid things. And why do they always have to be so disgusting?' he complained.

'Believe me,' Remus said darkly, 'You can have no idea.'

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The heady and slightly metallic taste of hot blood was strong in his mouth as Sirius ripped through the hare's carcass with his teeth, halting the animal's fight. He'd been lucky to spot the animal in the underbrush – it made a welcome change from day after day's foraging for edible berries and the occasional vole or polecat. He'd eschewed chancing village dustbins too often since he'd crossed the Scottish border, and the lack of regular Muggle discards had heavily impacted his ability to eat. He doubted he'd even been this starved in Azkaban.

Still, he would not give up – no matter how thin and exhausted he became. His effort, after all, was about to pay off.

Sirius laid down among the brambles to pick his way through the meat of the hare, savouring the sight before him even more than his first substantive meal in two days. In the distance, high on the hill, the great silhouette of Hogwarts castle pierced the deep red of the sky like an avenging angel.

He was almost there.

He finished off the unlucky animal, sucking its bones clear through to the marrow. In the beginning, he had never enjoyed eating in the raw. There was something heathen and foreign in fresh meat dripping with blood from a kill… but in time, he'd grown to love it. The trick was to let the animal instinct rule his human mind; bask in the visceral naturalness of the hunt. It was second nature to him now.

Sirius wiped the last remnants of his meal from the fur along his jaw, brushing his head through the grass. This next part, he knew, would be particularly difficult.

There were bound to be Dementors all around the castle, even if they hadn't determined that was where he was headed. The Ministry would have insisted on it, he was certain. Especially if Harry was there. Dumbledore would have warded the gates to protect him too; even if he managed to sneak past the Azkaban guards, he doubted whether he could get into the grounds through the official entrance.

That left the lake, or the forest.

He could try and swim it… but there were all sorts in the Hogwarts lake, and those creatures would not be so easy to fool. They might even attack him. No… the Forbidden Forest was the better option. Dementors would be a possibility there too, but he doubted their power once he was within the trees themselves. That forest was full of old magic, and he knew it well. How many nights had he roamed the woods – on and off the paths? There would be plenty of animals and edible plants… he could make something of a camp there, until the traitor returned to the castle. And he could sneak into the grounds – could try to see Harry… could make absolutely sure he was alright.

And so, slinking like a wraith through the gathering darkness, Sirius made his way toward the trees.

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'Do not bother taking out your book today,' Snape said without looking up, as Harry entered the Potions classroom the following morning. He was scratching away at a long sheaf of parchment, his greasy curtain of hair hiding most of the writing. Curious, Harry sidled a bit closer. Snape sent the parchment rolling into a scroll with a flourished wave of his hand, looking up at Harry's face with a scowl.

'Sir?' asked Harry, confused as he backed quickly into his usual desk. With a small thrill of dread, he wondered whether Snape was intending to test him again in retaliation for Harry's lack of discipline the day before.

All in all, Harry thought he'd got off rather easy in the aftermath of the debacle. Minerva was still cross with him and Remus at dinner, but she was somewhat less furious than she'd been at the outset. The headmaster had brief words with him outside the Great Hall, but he had seemed to feel that Harry had been chastised enough for the mistake. Albus had also discussed a new timetable with Harry after pudding. Harry grudgingly consented to the lesson allotment – although he resented the significant decrease in free time he foresaw in the schedule. It was much more rigid than his study the previous summer had been. Hermione would probably approve…

He ought to write to her soon.

'Because I am not convinced you can be trusted around a cauldron today,' Snape continued in a jeering tone that brought Harry abruptly out of his wandering thoughts, 'And because I am running low on several key ingredients which I shall be needing in the coming weeks, we will be engaging in a different sort of activity this morning.'

'What's that, sir?' asked Harry, feeling even more nervous.

Snape set the quill he'd been using aside and reached under the desk. He emerged with several massive straw baskets, which he sent flying over the gap. Harry scooted his chair backward as the containers skittered to a halt at his feet.

'Foraging,' said Snape simply, with a satisfied smirk.

'Foraging?' Harry repeated. 'Foraging for what, exactly, sir?'

Snape flicked his wand, and a scroll unfurled itself in front of Harry's nose. To his trepidation, the unrolling took quite a long time, finishing with a flourish as the parchment stretched a full two feet.

'Can't you buy potions ingredients, sir?' Harry asked, frowning as he snatched the floating scroll from his line of vision and squinting down at the many inches of cramped writing. Snape scowled.

'Of course I can buy them, impertinent brat!' he snapped. 'I choose not to. Most fungi and herbs are far superior freshly harvested from their natural habitats – as you would know if you bothered to go beyond the bare minimum of required reading for my lesson. I purchase most of the animal-based ingredients, which often must be imported. Professor Sprout provides some of the non-native species through the Hogwarts greenhouses. But I prefer naturally-grown specimens wherever possible.'

'And we're going to be able to find all of these in a few hours?' Harry asked doubtfully, surveying the length of the parchment again.

'No,' said Snape, with a slightly evil smirk. 'I very much doubt we shall find everything this morning. But you shall be returning to the task this afternoon after your lesson with Lupin, and again after dinner this evening, if you haven't completed the list. That should be sufficient time.'

Harry felt a hot surge of anger. 'It's summer hols!' he complained. 'You can't keep me doing this all night!'

'I assure you I can,' Snape said, smirking wider. 'You may think of it as… summer detention. A punishment for your deliberate disregard for my instruction yesterday. Perhaps you will learn something from the task. You can refuse, I suppose… But if you do, our lessons are at an end.'

Harry glared right back at Snape, still furious. He should have known the evil git would lord the wandless lessons over his head all summer; use it to force Harry into some perversion of indentured servitude. But then again, Harry hadn't expected to bask in the man's good graces after the events of the day before. And he was pretty sure Remus and Minerva – and maybe even Albus – would support Snape's 'punishment' as well-earned, if Harry complained to them.

He sighed in resignation. 'Right,' he grumbled. 'Where are we foraging then, professor?'

Snape stared at him, as though Harry was being deliberately thick. 'The forest,' he replied.

Harry swallowed hard. He'd never had a particularly enjoyable experience in the forbidden forest. He had wandered through the very outskirts with Hagrid a few times last summer, but he'd only been deep in the trees twice before. Both times, he'd nearly been killed.

At least this time, he reasoned to himself, Snape will be with you.

The thought did not give him much comfort.

Twenty minutes later, Harry struggled to keep pace behind Snape while balancing the many baskets in his arms as they approached the edge of the trees. He hoped the Potions master would not take them off the path before he could unburden his load – he was likely to do himself serious injury as long as he couldn't see his feet.

Harry's luck held out. Snape led him in silence up the path for a solid thirty minutes, until they were so deep inside the forest that Harry could barely see the sunlight flickering through the canopy of leaves and needles above. The trees were alive with the quiet sounds of summer: birds calling to one another from the branches, the hum of a passing insect, and the occasional rustle of a scurrying creature. It would have been beautiful and quite peaceful, if Harry could only set aside the prickle on the back of his neck.

'Set them here,' Snape called from up ahead as they entered a sunnier patch of footpath. Harry shifted the baskets to see the professor indicating a long, flat rock alongside the forest path. The increase in light found quick explanation, as Harry realised they had come to the edge of a small meadow. He did as he was told, and Snape selected two of the smaller containers.

'What shall I do, sir?' Harry asked, as Snape handed him one of the baskets.

Snape pointed a long finger at the base of a large oak tree, just at the edge of the meadow nearest to them. 'You ought to know these by now,' he said, indicating a number of innocent-appearing toadstools spread among the detritus of dirt and leaves.

Harry stared at the greenish-white mushrooms for a few moments, but nothing came to him. 'Er –'

'Amanita phalloides,' Snape said curtly, before he could offer a guess. 'Also known as Destroying Angel, or Death cap. Probably the deadliest of all toadstools native to Europe, and the central ingredient in the Death Cap Draught, one of the most potent poisons in existence. Even half a single mushroom can lead to hepatic and renal failure when the toadstool is accidentally ingested… and most of its victims never realise their folly until it is far too late, for the symptoms of poisoning do not appear for six to twenty-four hours after the fungus is ingested. They think, at first, that they are suffering from flu – the symptoms are that of common food poisoning or mild influenza. After a few days they often improve, and the victim believes he is recovered. Meanwhile, the latent toxins are slowly eating his organs from the inside out. It is much harder to survive the second phase.'

Harry's eyes widened, and Snape gave a small, satisfied smile. 'Oh yes,' he said softly. 'Everything about the toadstool is intoxicating: its sweet-smelling scent, its innocent appearance, even the taste of death cap is supposed to be a great delicacy – the kiss of death itself. It is often ingested merely by accident – for the spores bear a distinct resemblance to more innocent fungi… but then, ignorance and good intention are often silent killers.'

Snape continued to smirk at him for a moment, his black eyes glittering. He nodded his head toward the patch of toadstools.

'Fill the basket,' he said, with an abrupt return to his normal voice. 'There ought to be more along the edge of the wood. They flourish well among oak trees.'

'You – you want me to pick them?' Harry asked, incredulous. 'When you just told me they were poisonous?'

Snape arched an eyebrow. 'Yes,' he said, simply. 'Wear your dragonhide gloves – some strains of the amatoxin have been known to penetrate the skin.' He made to turn away into the meadow, but Harry wasn't having it.

'Come off it – I'm not helping you poison someone!' he said firmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and giving Snape a glare of his own. Snape turned back to face him, black eyes flashing.

'You will do as you are told!' he snapped back. 'And do not be a fool, Potter,' he added with a mocking smirk. 'If I desired to kill by poison, I can promise you it would be completely untraceable – least of all by you.'

'What do you want with them, then, if you aren't using them to brew a poison?' Harry challenged.

'You tell me, Potter,' Snape countered, surveying him with the same sort of intensity he always did in regular lessons. 'What is Golpalott's first law?'

'Er –' Harry racked his brains. It had definitely been mentioned in Potions before… but they hadn't studied brewing poisons or their antidotes in any great depth yet.

Snape rolled his eyes. 'Two years of magical education have clearly not been wasted on you, boy,' he jeered. '"The antidote to any given poison will always have a base in the poison itself,"' he quoted. 'All antidotes and anti-venoms have a measure of the poison they counter within them, Potter. You cannot defeat the killer without understanding what it is made of; what it is that makes it deadly.'

'Right,' groused Harry, pulling on his dragonhide gloves. He set to work digging up the toadstools. It wasn't particularly taxing work – the fungi came out of the ground easily enough, and Snape was perfectly right in predicting their abundance. It took less than fifteen minutes to fill his basket.

Harry brought the harvest back to the flat rock, where Snape slide a lid on top to keep the mushrooms covered. Harry saw that another covered basket sat on the stone already. He reached out a hand to peek under the lid, but Snape slapped his arm down.

'Ouch!' Harry complained, rubbing at the slight sting in his hand. 'I was only going to have a look.'

'Then you would have paid for your impertinence,' Snape said waspishly, 'As the basket is full of nettles.'

Harry made a face. 'What's next, then?' he asked, gesturing to the long list in Snape's hand. The Potions master perused it for a moment.

'Wormwood,' he decided. 'What are its uses, Potter?'

Harry smirked. He actually knew this one. They'd used wormwood before – and Snape had asked him about it in his very first Potions lesson. 'Wormwood is used as an infusion in the Draught of Living Death, and in powdered form in the Shrinking Solution,' he answered promptly.

'And?' Snape prompted. Harry hesitated. He didn't know any additional uses. Snape rolled his eyes. 'The answer should be obvious – even if you haven't brewed the potions yet,' he chastised. 'What are the qualities of wormwood?'

'Er –' Harry thought for a moment. 'It's … it's quite bitter,' he said tentatively. 'Because it's high in quinine. That's what makes it important in Living Death, because high doses of quinine like are in the infusion cause somnolence. It can also be poisonous if the concentration is too high, which is why Living Death isn't studied until N.E.W.T. level at Hogwarts.'

'And?' Snape prompted again.

'I don't know, sir,' Harry said in defeat.

'Wormwood also has significant hallucinogenic properties,' Snape explained brusquely. 'In milder doses, it can cause a false sense of bliss. It is therefore one of the central ingredients in the Elixir to Induce Euphoria, as well as several mind-altering brews. Measures of powdered wormwood are also key ingredients in some types of healing potions, including variants of calming draught, antipyretics and stomach soothing solutions.'

'Right,' said Harry, with a resigned nod. Snape thrust another basket at him.

'There is a significant smattering of wormwood in this meadow,' he said with a nod at the grass behind him. 'I trust you can recognise the plant?'

'Yes, sir,' said Harry, taking the basket. Snape sent him away with another irritated jerk of the head, and Harry picked his way carefully through the tall grass, stopping occasionally to pull the stubborn wormwood plants up by the roots.

By the time Harry had filled the much larger basket with the wormwood, the sun was growing high in the bright summer's sky.

'Enough for now,' Snape said, as Harry placed the wormwood next to the other completed baskets (including the new batch of mistletoe that Snape had retrieved). 'We'll continue this afternoon.'

'Yes, sir,' said Harry resignedly.

Snape levitated the filled baskets before him on their walk back to the castle, and Harry gloried in the reduced load as he balanced the remainder.

He dashed quickly up to the headmaster's quarters to wash up and have something for lunch, then hurried off to meet Minerva in the Transfiguration classroom.

By nightfall, as Harry re-entered the forest with Snape for the third time that day, he was bone-weary. This 'summer detention' had certainly lived up to his expectations from the Potions master: his fingers and arms were aching from the constant pruning and plucking, his back in spasm from bending over, and his feet throbbing from the long walks. Even gardening at the Dursleys had rarely left him quite so exhausted. To add to the labour, Snape fired off a continuous stream of questions and information at him with each new ingredient, so that by now Harry had been forced to memorise the properties and uses not only of Death Cap and wormwood, but also nettles, mistletoe, belladonna, Wiggentree bark, Star Grass, sneezewort, knotgrass, and silverweed.

His final task for the night was to gather valerian – a plant whose roots were useful in many potions, including Living Death, Draught of Peace, Forgetfulness Potion, Headache Draught, and Dreamless Sleep. Snape wanted both roots and flowers, as the blooms could be used in milder forms of sleeping potions and cough suppressants.

And so Harry was bent low over a patch of valerian in yet another meadow. This meadow was even deeper in the forest than the one they'd visited in the morning, and much smaller. The density of the canopy and the waning moon made it very difficult to spot the little plants. Snape – who had gone off in search of belladonna in a nearby copse – Harry could not see at all. He didn't mind the break from the endless barrage of questions… but it was a bit unnerving to be on his own in the darkening forest. The night was still and windless, and Harry felt almost as though the forest herself were waiting for something.

At least the massive basket was nearly full.

As he closed his fingers over a likely looking bit of green, the hairs on the back of Harry's neck began to prickle. He felt eyes upon him, as oppressive as if someone were physically holding him down. His heart began to pound in his chest.

Very slowly, Harry released the valerian plant, raising his head to glance around. For a moment, he thought perhaps he had imagined the sensation… but then he saw a pair of gleaming grey eyes across the meadow, staring unblinkingly at him from between two massive pines. Whatever creature the eyes belonged to, its form was shrouded in the darkness. There was something familiar about its stare…

'Growing bored, Potter?' came Snape's jeering voice from his left. Harry jumped, whirling around to face the professor. In the infinitesimal span of time that he was distracted, the watching creature vanished.

'What is it?' said Snape, in a slightly less derisive tone, coming closer to Harry as the latter continued to stare at the place where the watcher had been.

'There was something there – in the trees. It was watching me,' Harry said, still raking the trees for a sign of those peculiar grey eyes. 'I could sense it.' He could feel his heart still drumming hard against his ribs.

Snape seemed quite unperturbed. 'This is a very old and magical forest, Potter,' he said. 'There are many creatures lurking among the trees – one of the reasons students are forbidden from entering without supervision.' His eyes flashed at the last, and Harry – remembering Aragog – flushed a bit, though he doubted Snape would be able to tell in the blackness of the night.

'Dark creatures,' Harry pressed. 'There are lots of dangerous things in here – even Albus says so.'

'Perhaps,' Snape agreed, still without any semblance of concern. 'But I assure you – if whatever you saw in the trees intended to do you harm, you would know by now. Most magical predators are not known for their subtlety nor their shyness. Nor are there many breeds in this particular forest who are fond of hunting by stealth.'

'Not even the werewolves?' Harry asked. He remembered quite vividly how Draco Malfoy had proclaimed loudly on their first trip into the forest that werewolves hunted within the trees. Snape snorted. 'What?' asked Harry defensively. 'Are you saying there aren't werewolves at Hogwarts? Because –'

'I am saying nothing of the sort,' Snape disagreed, with a strangely intense look in his eyes. 'There are most certainly werewolves at this school. And you would be well served to remember the perils associated with them. But you are in no danger from a werewolf tonight.'

'Why not?' said Harry stubbornly.

Snape looked faintly amused now. 'I realise,' he said, in the delicate tone that he always adopted when cradling a particularly delicious insult, 'That your training in Defence Against the Dark Arts thus far has left a great deal to be desired. However, surely even one as dull-witted as yourself can discern the basic flaw in that assumption?' He waited, but Harry merely stared back, at a loss. Snape gave a mocking smile. 'Tell me, Potter, why is it so dark out tonight?'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Because the moon is – oh.' He flushed, realising his own mistake. Snape's leer widened.

'Indeed,' he agreed. 'Werewolves can only transform at full moon, and thus pose no danger when the moon is waning, as now. Or, at least, not that sort of danger. The forest does play host to a pack of more ordinary wolves, but they pose no more hazard than most of their kind – perhaps even less so, as there are plenty of more intriguing game in these woods than a skinny boy of thirteen.'

'Right,' said Harry, feeling a little foolish now. 'Well, whatever it was, something was definitely watching me,' he insisted stubbornly.

'I daresay that is a feeling you must be used to,' Snape drawled sarcastically. 'Gather up your basket – we are finished for the night.'

Harry did as he was told, throwing the final valerian plant onto the heap and hauling the load up to follow in Snape's wake. But as they headed back to the school, Harry could have sworn a low growl echoed through the darkened trees.