A/N: Thank you all for your well-wishes and support, and to those who read and reviewed! I really appreciate it. We're happily anticipating this next phase, and I'm sure I'll share some of the excitement in future notes :)

This chapter came more quickly than I had anticipated, and I wanted to upload it straight away as a reward for what I know has been a slower summer than my usual pace. It is shorter than the norm, but the previous chapter was rather longer, so it should even out. I hope you all enjoy this one… it's action-centric and quite fast-paced! Please read and review!

Lots of love – C.S.D.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

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 13: Between the Sinners and the Saints

Harry stood alone in the Potions classroom, fuming as the door slammed behind Snape.

It was stupid, ridiculous even, that he was once again left behind while everyone else went to deal with the situation. Never told anything. Never given the details. Just ordered to stay inside and keep his head down – keep out of trouble like an obedient little boy. The very idea infuriated him.

There was something about Black… something more. Harry was certain of it. Snape had wanted to tell him… Snape had told Dumbledore to tell him. The headmaster had said that Black was after Harry; that he wanted revenge for Voldemort's downfall.

But… did that make sense?

Harry knew there were many supporters of Voldemort that had never been apprehended. Ron was adamant that the Malfoys, the Goyles, the Crabbes and several other Slytherin families were close to Voldemort during the last war, and yet they had kept themselves out of prison when he disappeared. Mr Malfoy certainly hated Harry, but none of the other supposed followers of Lord Voldemort had set out to murder him at Hogwarts… well, unless you counted Quirrell, and that was quite different.

Why would Sirius Black escape from prison, then come to the one place where he knew the greatest and most powerful wizard of the age – plus several other formidable witches and wizards – resided? Why risk everything to escape, only to throw it all away on a fool's errand? Why come for Harry at all? Why not go to Voldemort's aide – help his old master rise to power again – if he was so devoted even more than a decade later?

What made Sirius Black so much more of a danger than any other follower of Lord Voldemort?

Harry wanted answers. He could not stay shut up in this dingy classroom, while the rest of them were out in the grounds. He would not do it.

Determined now, Harry wrenched the door handle.

It would not budge.

Harry swore. Of course – Snape had locked it. He really did not trust Harry at all. Snarling, he pulled his wand.

'Alohomora,' he said confidently, pointing the wand at the door handle. He tried it again.

Still locked.

'Alohomora!' Harry said again, more insistently.

The door was still resolutely closed.

Pulling at his hair, Harry kicked the door in temper, earning nothing but a strong ache in his big toe to add to his frustration. What the hell had Snape locked this with, anyway?

He searched the room fruitlessly, thinking of breaking down the door, if there was anything strong enough.

And his eyes alighted on the fireplace… and the tin of floo powder resting on the mantle.

Brilliant.

Gleeful, Harry dove for the hearth. He threw a pinch of the powder into the flames, which turned a satisfying shade of emerald.

'Great Hall!' Harry called, stepping into the floo. With a whoosh and a swirl of ashes, he was propelled up the chimney.

He emerged seconds later out of the massive fireplace in the Great Hall, coughing from the influx of ash and brushing soot from his robes. The Hall was still and silent, the castle's few occupants clearly out on the hunt. Harry took off at once for the doors, skidding over the slippery tile of the entrance hall in his haste and throwing himself through the castle entrance.

Though it was only mid-afternoon, he might have just run into twilight. The grounds were grey and cold, the sky above threatening a storm at any moment. There was not another soul in sight, and even Hagrid's hut was in darkness. Shivering slightly in only his summer-weight shirt and trousers, Harry set off toward the gamekeeper's home, thinking that he'd be bound to see one of the searchers if he was farther from the castle.

He had no sooner reached the little stone path up to the hut when he felt it. True coldness – bitter, bone-chilling ice that threatened to freeze his very blood in his veins. Harry knew at once what the sensation arose from. He recognised it.

There were Dementors in the grounds.

Harry looked round in panic and spied a hoard of the foul creatures set upon the hill, gliding out from the shadow cast by the castle. Very slowly, they began to move his way.

Harry stumbled, forcing himself into motion once more. He didn't know where, exactly, he could go… but he was not confident enough in his wisp of a patronus to risk an encounter with the Dementors. He shot past Hagrid's darkened hut, continuing down the hill at a run. The Forbidden Forest was up ahead. Harry didn't know exactly how he knew – but he was certain he'd be safe there. The trees themselves seemed to be exuding some unseen call.

He felt the bitter cold release him, as he dove headlong into their shelter.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Severus left the dungeons at a run, sprinting through the castle doors and into the grounds. Albus, Minerva and Hagrid were waiting for him at the foot of the long stone steps.

'No werewolf?' Severus growled. 'Afraid he might give in to his affections?'

'Remus is out,' Albus explained coolly. 'He had some business in London this afternoon.'

'How convenient,' Severus mocked.

'Severus –' Minerva began, but Albus cut her off.

'There is little time for trivial debate,' he interrupted. 'Hagrid was the one who spotted Black by the lake. He came for me at once, and the Dementors are already searching. We must split up and aide them. You have left Harry somewhere safe, I presume?' he asked the Potions master.

Severus nodded. 'He will not leave the classroom, and there is no way Black would be able to enter it. I warded it myself.'

'Excellent,' Albus said in approval. 'Well then, I have warded the entrance to the castle; Black should not be able to get inside. Minerva and I will take the grounds – the lake, the quidditch pitch, any of the copses where Black might take refuge. Severus, you and Hagrid should begin your search in the forest. Split up if you can, to cover more ground. The Dementors cannot pass through the trees, so they are less likely to find him if he takes shelter there.'

Severus frowned. 'That seems a liability, headmaster,' he pointed out. 'If Black has deduced that the Dementors cannot track him there, what is to stop him from seeking shelter permanently in the forest?'

Albus shook his head. 'The centaurs and unicorn herds work with magic that differs greatly from our own,' he said. 'But it is equally powerful in its own right. They will not stand for the permanent presence of dark magic in the forest, and they will present an equal danger to the Dementors if Sirius Black has tried to take refuge there.'

But this did not tally with Severus' recollection of previous years.

'The Dark Lord –' he began.

'Was less than spirit when he resided in the Forest,' Dumbledore pointed out. 'Incapable of being attacked. And then, when he shared Quirrell's body, their forays into the forest were fleeting, not permanent. Black is a man still – whatever he may have become. He can be killed.'

And would be, Severus thought viciously. He drew his wand.

'Is everyone clear?' the headmaster asked. 'Send word at once if you catch sight of Black, and proceed with caution.'

They all nodded, and the little grouping broke apart to their individual duties. Severus sent Hagrid off for the southern portion of forest. He himself took the trees closest to the lake, certain that Black would have fled through there if he'd known he'd been discovered at its edges.

He started along a forest path as he inched his way through the trees, wand out in front of him and ears straining for the sound of another in the wood. For minutes that dragged on endlessly, Severus prowled the darkening path, waiting for his moment to arrive.

'You should not be here, tonight,' a deep voice said from the darkness ahead of him.

Severus pulled up short, fingers twitching on the end of his wand. The voice was not Black's, but Severus thought it sounded familiar.

'Who objects?' he asked, holding his ground.

From the shadows, a centaur emerged. His brilliant chestnut coat gleamed softly in the light from Severus' wand.

'Stand aside, Magorian,' Severus said through gritted teeth. 'I'm looking for Sirius Black. He may have escaped into the forest from the Hogwarts' grounds tonight.'

Magorian tilted his head, considering the wizard. 'The forest harbours only innocents in her trees,' he said.

Severus scowled. 'I think I'd like to check for myself,' he spat, moving to pass the centaur.

Magorian shifted, blocking his way. 'The forest harbours only innocents,' he repeated.

'Move aside,' Severus said again, losing patience.

'You should go, wizard,' the centaur said seriously.

'You will move aside, or I shall make you move aside!' Severus bellowed furiously, pointing his wand at the infuriating creature.

To prove his point, Severus shot a blasting hex at the nearest oak tree. The centaur, showing his first glimpse of emotion since their encounter, looked sadly on as the tree exploded, sending boughs and bits of trunk crashing through the neighbouring brush. Severus turned from the wreckage to face Magorian again, eyes blazing.

And then he heard a voice to chill his very soul.

'We're in here!' came Potter's desperate cry, somewhere far to his right. 'Professor Snape! We're –'

The child's pleading summons was cut off suddenly mid-stream. Severus strained his ears again, but there was nothing but the silence of the forest now.

How had the brat come to be in the forest? How had he – apparently – found Black, when a horde of Azkaban guards, the headmaster, Minerva, Hagrid and himself had not? And what the hell was the foolish, reckless, death-chasing idiot thinking, coming out of his shelter when he knew what they were after in the grounds tonight?

Severus was so thrown by the turn of events that he could hardly decide whether fear or anger was his primary reaction. His heart hammering in his throat beat his terror that they had failed to keep Lily's child from death; that Sirius Black had finished the Dark Lord's work – murdered the last Potter tonight, in the very place they all thought he would be safest. The red that shrouded his vision was screaming at him to throttle the child next chance he got.

'Let me pass,' Severus snarled, recovering his voice enough to address the centaur again.

'I cannot,' Magorian repeated. 'You have no business in this place tonight.'

'There is a murderer in your precious forest tonight!' Severus shouted furiously. 'Or have you no thought for the lives of children?'

The centaur looked balefully back at him. 'We all of us value the life of Harry Potter, however fleeting it may be,' he said ominously. 'Harry Potter is destined to do great things, in the world of the past and the world of the future. It is written in the heavens.'

Severus felt a chill creep up his spine – he despised fortune-tellers.

'If he dies tonight, his blood shall be on your hands!' Severus spat furiously. 'What would your stars say to that, I wonder?'

The centaur looked momentarily uncertain, pawing nervously at the ground.

'Let me pass,' Severus said again, more quietly.

At last, the centaur stepped aside. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Severus rushed past him, throwing himself off the path and crashing through the underbrush in the direction from whence he had heard Potter's terrified voice.

He would kill the boy for leaving the safety of his classroom. But first, he would make sure the brat was not already dead. And first, he would take his revenge.

First, he would murder Sirius Black.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry had wandered far – much farther than he'd originally intended. Any daylight that might have survived the Dementors' presence and the clouded sky was well-shrouded here, deep in the trees of the Forbidden Forest. He had taken a left at the only fork in the path, scared the right might lead him again to that horrible hollow where Aragog and his descendants dwelled… but, of course, he knew not what lay at the end of this winding trail either.

Now that he was away from the Dementors' compressing misery, he was starting to regret his rash decision. He was alone in the middle of the forest, and he had no idea where Dumbledore or Snape or Hagrid or McGonagall or anyone else who might be searching the grounds had got to. Any one of them – with the possible exception of the gamekeeper – was liable to kill him if they found him wandering the trees. He thought about turning back… but the Dementors might be waiting. He would not risk that. Not again.

At long last, Harry stopped at the edge of a clearing. He recognised the growth along the edges – this was where Snape had taken him to forage for potions ingredients. It was as good a place as any to wait, for now. Perhaps one of the searchers would come this direction, and at least there were several flat rocks on which to wait.

Weary with the remnants of wandless magic, the long walk and fading adrenaline, Harry made his way toward the centre of the clearing. He was nearly there when he paused, the hairs on the back of his neck on edge.

Like the last time he'd been in this place, he had the strange sensation that he was being watched. He froze in place, pricking his ears for the sounds of movement.

'I knew you at once, you know,' a rasping voice said from the shadows. 'You look just like him – your father, James.'

Harry whirled, his wand held out before him, searching through the darkened trees for the source of the voice. His heart was hammering against his ribcage, but the hand that held his wand was quite steady.

'Show yourself!' he called, trying to sound braver than he felt. There was a long stretch of silence, as Harry squinted into the trees. Then, very slowly, a figure started to emerge.

It was a man, Harry thought, but only just. But for the slight heaving of his chest, Harry might have thought him vampire. His face was gaunt and almost skeletal, high cheekbones protruding corpse-like from emaciated hollows. He had a long, tangled mat of hair black as the forest around them that fell almost to his elbows. His robes might have also been black once, but they were faded and ragged now with age and abuse, the tattered hem and turn-ups revealing limbs so thin, they looked like a strong wind might snap them. His eyes were steel grey, and oddly familiar. They were also wet.

'Who are you?' Harry asked, though he thought he already knew.

'You do not remember?' the man asked. 'No… I thought not. You were so young, after all. But it is a bit of a disappointment.'

'You're him, aren't you?' Harry spat. 'You're the murderer they're after, the man who killed all those people. You're Sirius Black.'

Something flashed across the man's face, as though Harry had physically slapped him. He paused in his advance, considering Harry closely before he answered.

'I am,' he said at last.

'You've come for me,' Harry said. It wasn't a question.

'I have,' Black confirmed in a whisper. He took another slow step forward, and Harry raised his wand slightly again.

'Not another step!' Harry snarled, feeling his heart thrumming in his ears now. 'Not one more!'

Black looked almost pained, as he stared from Harry's outstretched wand to his face. 'Harry, please,' he said, grey eyes almost beseeching. 'You do not understand. Your father –'

'Don't you talk about my parents!' Harry snarled, his vision reddening. 'They were murdered by your master – you think I don't know what you've done? The people you killed? I don't want to listen to anything you've got to say!'

'It's not what you –'

'You will move aside, or I shall make you move aside!'

Black interrupted himself, as the unmistakable sound of Snape's furious voice echoed distantly through the trees, followed by several crashing noises.

'We're in here!' Harry shouted desperately, turning from the murderer in front of him to shout in the direction of the ruckus. He had never been more grateful to hear Snape's snarl – no matter that he knew the Potions master would murder Harry himself once they were discovered.

'Harry, no!'

'Professor Snape! We're –'

But he was cut off as something hard slammed into his side and he was thrown to the ground, knocking the wind out of himself. In a back potion of his dazed mind, he realised his mistake in turning his back on the escaped criminal. His wand arm crashed backward as he hit the forest floor, and – to his horror – the holly wand bounced out of his grip on the impact. Groaning slightly, he struggled to regain his feet; but Black had already seized the wand for himself.

'Silencio,' Black said smoothly, cursing Harry with his own wand. Harry automatically tried to shout – but his voice had gone completely.

'I'm sorry,' Black muttered, crouching down and reaching for Harry.

Harry scrambled back in a crab walk, horrified and scared out of his senses. He could still hear something rustling the underbrush… but it was hard to tell whether Snape had heard him. Black seemed to be listening hard to the approaching searchers too: Harry saw panic cross his face as he contemplated the trees. Desperately, Harry tried to follow Snape's instruction from the afternoon, repeating Expelliarmus over and over in his head.

The wand refused to move.

'Harry, listen to me,' Black said, in a whisper. He bent low over Harry, grasping his forearm. Harry winced at the surprising strength in the grip. He could feel Black's long, dirty fingernails digging into his skin.

'There isn't much time,' Black hissed. 'You can't trust Snape, Harry. He's probably already working with him; they'll kill you if they can. Snape's been dark since childhood, Harry, ever since we were at school. He's dangerous – he's evil. He's a Death –'

There was another, closer sound in the trees, and Black was distracted. Harry took the opportunity to push himself farther away, breaking Black's hold on his arm. Black leapt suddenly to his feet, Harry's wand gripped tightly in his clawed hand. He shifted himself so he was standing over Harry, just as they both saw movement in the trees.

'Impedimenta!'

'Incarcerous!'

Black's cry and Snape's sounded simultaneously. The two jets of light crashed spectacularly into one another, diverting the course of the curses. Black yanked Harry roughly out of the way of his own deflected spell, while Harry saw Snape dive out of the path of the second, his furious face momentarily illuminated in its blaze.

'Release the boy!' Snape snarled, stepping out of the trees at last. There was a hatred glowing in his eyes unlike Harry had ever seen before. He'd thought the loathing that Snape had always shown for him was unsurpassable… but, clearly, he'd been underestimating the potential of Snape's wrath.

Black gave a mirthless laugh. 'To you?' he asked, his tone almost mocking. 'I don't think so, Snivellus.'

The clearing was bathed in light again, as both wizards squared off in another attempt to fell the other. This time, Snape was forced to conjure a shield charm, while Black managed to duck last moment. Whatever curse Snape had tried shot over the top of Black's head, so close that Harry could smell the acrid stench of burnt hair.

'Missed again,' Black taunted. 'Slow as ever, Snivellus.'

'Yet I do not need three fools at my back to succeed in defeating you,' Snape spat back, swirling his dark robes behind him as he straightened.

Snape shot a jet of red light this time, without speaking. It came so quickly that Harry was shocked Black had the wherewithal to parry it. He managed to deflect the hit again, but the shield charm he'd conjured was neither quick nor strong enough. The spell missed Black, but collided with Harry's own leg. He gave a silent scream of pain as Snape's curse ripped his trousers and right through his calf, leaving a deep, gushing wound. Harry saw Snape's eyes tighten as he watched the scarlet pooling on the ground.

Black roared in almost manic rage, unleashing another of his own spells, and Snape – who was momentarily distracted by Harry's injury – wasn't quick enough this time. He was blasted back off his feet, and crumpled to the ground.

He did not rise.

Harry was starting to shake. With blood loss or terror, he wasn't sure. Black was still standing over him, chest heaving as he held Harry's wand outstretched, staring intently toward Snape's fallen form.

'Hold on, Harry Potter,' came a deep voice from his right. Harry turned his head against the earth, staring into the trees again. A tall, palomino centaur Harry recognised as Firenze stepped from the shadows, his eyes roving between Harry, Black and Snape as he walked slowly toward them. He did not look surprised at the scene.

'Albus Dumbledore approaches,' Firenze informed him, his beautiful blue eyes trapping Harry's gaze. Harry still could not speak, but he nodded minutely in reply.

'You should not be here,' the centaur continued, shifting his gaze from Harry to Sirius Black, who had finally lowered Harry's wand and was now staring at his still-bleeding leg.

'But –' Black began.

'This is not your night, Canis,' Firenze said, still in his calm tone. Harry felt his eyes begin to close… he was so tired, and it was growing cold. Firenze's form was a pale blur against the dark of the forest.

'It is not your time,' the centaur continued. 'And if you do not go, you will not get another.'

Harry was drifting. The forest, the sounds of approaching night; all was fading now… even the fear seemed to be draining from him. But as the darkness carried him off, he thought he heard a soft voice at his ear.

'I will always watch over you,' the voice promised. 'And when He comes, I'll kill him. For them, and for you.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'No luck, Minerva?' Albus said, meeting up with her at the edge of the lake.

'Nothing,' she confirmed. 'The Dementors are riled. I wonder if perhaps we should not send them back to their posts, if it seems this evening's search is at an end.'

'Yes,' Albus agreed. 'It appears that if he was in the grounds, Black has certainly gone at this point. We ought to collect Severus and Hagrid and wrap things up.'

'You've heard nothing from them, then?'

'No. And I am sure by now Harry will be rather annoyed at his neglect, and perhaps ready for supper. We should probably –'

Albus broke off, as a brilliant flash of fire erupted in front of them. Fawkes emerged as the flames died away, trilling one long, urgent note and fanning his tail feathers expectantly before them. For one moment, Albus watched him in puzzlement. Then he grabbed Minerva's hand tightly.

'Come,' he said, reaching for the phoenix's tail.

'But what –'

'Hold tight to me,' Albus said urgently. 'There is an emergency.'

In a flash of fire and song, Fawkes swept them away.

In a second spurt of fire, the phoenix deposited Albus and Minerva in a forest clearing. Albus released his hold on the bird at once, steadying Minerva from the abruptness of the landing. Already, his eyes were taking in the scene.

Along the edge of the clearing, Severus was sprawled on his back, apparently unconscious. In the centre, lying against a large rock and covered in blood, was –

'Harry!' Minerva cried, rushing toward him and throwing herself to her knees at his side. One hand went at once to his neck, feeling for a pulse. Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, and she moved to cradle his head.

'Do not move him,' Albus said grimly, hurrying to join her and grasping her wrist before she could lift Harry's head. 'Not until we know what has happened to him. He might have injured his spine.'

'Albus – his leg!' she said in horror, gesturing to the bloody tatters of trouser that barely concealed a vicious wound.

'Fawkes can take care of it,' he said, looking around for the phoenix as he pulled his wand for a diagnostic.

Fawkes fluttered obediently down beside them, bending his beautiful head over the gash in Harry's calf. Albus scanned the wand over the child's bruised and bloodied form, while the phoenix tears dripped softly into the wound. He breathed a sigh of relief as he read over the results.

'It's alright,' he assured Minerva. 'He will need some blood replenisher, but the leg wound was the worst of his injuries.'

'Thank Merlin,' she said, moving at once to lift Harry's head and chest off the stone.

'Stay with him while I see to Severus,' Albus instructed her, pulling himself off the forest floor.

He hurried over to the unmoving Potions master, running the same spell down his body. Apart from some minor bruising, it seemed Severus was only stunned.

'Enervate,' Albus murmured, pointing his wand at Severus' chest. The man's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he looked up in slight confusion at Albus' face. Then he jumped up so quickly, the headmaster had to steady him on his feet.

'Severus –'

'The boy!' Severus spat, leaning around Albus' arm to see Harry. 'Potter – I – he was hit.'

'Harry will be fine,' Albus assured him. 'Take a moment to recover yourself.'

'No – I,' Severus still looked panicked, and slightly guilty, as he continued to push at the headmaster's restraining grip. 'The bleeding, it will only grow worse. He needs a countercharm immediately – and dittany. Call for dittany. Sectumsempra – it was an –'

'Fawkes has taken care of it,' Albus assured him, though he released his hold on the Potions master. 'Though I wonder how it is that Harry came to be hit with a curse I know to have been your speciality, in darker times.'

Severus' panic seemed to subside as they approached Minerva and Harry, and he saw for himself only smooth, unblemished skin where the gaping wound had been.

'He wasn't supposed to be here,' he snarled, fury and defensiveness taking hold where the panic had evaporated. 'He nearly got himself killed! Nearly got both of us killed! Reckless, arrogant –'

'How was Harry hit?' Albus repeated, his own gaze growing steely.

Severus swallowed. 'I was searching another part of the forest when I heard him call out,' he said. 'When I came into this clearing, he was here. With Black. We duelled. I was hesitant to use a deadly curse – Black was standing over Potter, and using his wand. If I misaimed, I might have hit the boy.'

'So Black is the one who injured Harry?' Albus pressed. 'With your curse?'

Severus crossed his arms. 'If Potter hadn't been in the way, I would have been able to put a stop to this once and for all!' he complained angrily.

'Severus –'

'I hit him!' Severus snarled, throwing his hands up in defeat. 'It was unintentional, obviously. I got caught up in things… trying to end the duel before Black killed both of us. He dodged, and Potter was hit in the deflection. The distraction cost me – I was stunned in the aftermath.'

'You cursed –' Minerva started, looking thunderous as she drew her own wand.

'Enough, Minnie,' said Albus, raising a hand to stay her fury. 'It was an accident, nothing more. We must move Harry now. He needs blood replenishing potion.'

'What of Black?' Severus asked, glaring into the trees.

'There is no point, now,' Albus said heavily, running a weary hand over his face as he bent to lift Harry from the ground. 'He was gone by the time Minerva and I arrived. I doubt we would find him at this stage.'

He lifted Harry off the stone, feeling his back protest a little. The child was still small for his age, but he had grown a great deal since the previous summer, and he was fast leaving childhood. Severus, apparently sensing his struggle, cast a muttered feather-light charm on the boy's body.

'You should not be doing that at your age,' he opined, as Albus shifted Harry in his arms.

He smiled. 'My dear child,' he said to Severus, 'Age is only a number.'

Fawkes hovered down in front of them once more, and Albus nodded for Minerva to grab hold. Severus took her arm, and placed his other hand on Albus' shoulder.

Moments later, the four of them had been deposited in the warm, circular interior of Albus' study. The headmaster moved at once to set Harry on the sofa, while Minerva rounded on Severus once again.

'I cannot believe you, Severus Snape!' she railed.

'Minerva – it was an accident!' Severus retorted, firing up at once. 'And it was Potter's fault, more than anything! He should never have been –'

'He should never have been exposed to dark magic by his professor!' Minerva shrieked. 'How can you stand there and say –'

'Fetch the blood replenisher, and a phial of essence of dittany just in case, please, Minerva,' Albus said in a raised voice, carefully laying Harry's head against the pillows as he sought to end the argument.

Minerva set her jaw, but obediently bustled from the room with one last, filthy glare at the Potions master. Severus flung himself into one of the armchairs.

'She's impossible,' he complained, crossing his arms mutinously. 'As if I intended to –'

'Let me make one thing perfectly clear,' Albus interrupted, smoothing back the fringe from Harry's forehead and turning at last to face Severus. 'I care very deeply for you, Severus. And I recognise that the situation tonight may have spiralled out of control, which is why I will not allow Minerva free reign to crucify you for your uncharacteristic and frankly alarming lack of responsible, logical thinking in that clearing.'

He paused, watching the Potions master cringe downward in his seat, as the weight of Albus' disappointment permeated the room.

'I know you know, Severus, that you were mistaken tonight. You rage at Harry for his recklessness… but you should have sent word at once when you found out Black was in that forest. And you should never have exposed Harry to a potentially lethal hex, just because you were embroiled in battle with a schoolboy enemy.'

'Potter shouldn't have been there!' Severus complained. 'And I had no choice but to use what I could, headmaster – Black could have killed us both!'

'There is always a choice, Severus,' Albus said sadly. 'Always. The choice is between what is right, and what is easy. You know as well as I that there were other ways to take down Sirius Black tonight. Spells that would not have caused this sort of damage had they hit the innocent.'

Severus squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, as the silence dragged on. 'I… apologise,' he said at last. 'I should have been more cautious.'

'Yes,' Albus agreed, turning to examine Harry once more. 'And so we are clear, Severus; as much as I love you and value your companionship, if you ever put Harry's life in this kind of peril again, I will kill you myself.'