Hello again! I'm just back from work and sitting down to write today's installment. There are a dozen things clamoring to be said, but I do have one important question for today. Tomorrow's chapter is a crossroads of some sort. I know I said this was to be a small story (about10-15 chapters) but it does have the capacity of becoming double that size or even a new arc of sorts, with more stories in this setting. What would you prefer? I need an honest answer, please :)

That said, onwards! Chapter 7.

***

There were numbers everywhere. Their ethereal, silvery ink-like substance resembled some sort of living web that had crawled and spread on the floor, the walls, the ceiling of the small flat. They were even on the furniture, covering the bed, the couple of chairs and the trunk. The table was overturned, but somehow the large sheet of paper was spread upon it. Behind it, two feet lay limply. It was that which made Minerva rush in, wand out.

Nikos was lying on his back, eyes wide as his mouth formed words Minerva couldn't hear. That was not what scared her. It was the blood. It was oozing in thin rivulets from the greek wizard's ears, and it had begun pooling around his eyes- he blinked often as his irises flicked this way and that, taking in the enormous chart that his room had become.

"Mr. Galanos!" Minerva knelt next to him, and tentatively shook him from the shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

The man shivered but didn't reply. He didn't seem to have heard her at all and just continued to speak without a voice, as his wand made slight movements in his very loose grip upon his stomach. Minerva glanced around, and sure enough, the equations were not static but dynamic, changing and evolving, making the lines change, branch out or snap into place in a grid that looked to have no discipline or pattern, but Minerva knew to be highly mathematical, full of spirals, circles, hyperboles and every other shape equations translated into.

"Please, Mr. Galanos," she tried once more but the trance-like expression did not shift at all.

Then, blood started oozing from his nostrils, and around his mouth, and Minerva knew she had to get help.

"Hold on, hold on!" she murmured and rushed back to the fireplace.

***

Rasmus walked into Professor Vector's office. She smiled at him.

"Well, goodmorning, mr. Snape. How are you today?"

"Well, professor," Rasmus nodded as he sat down respectfully.

"We'll know about your advanced classes tomorrow, but what about the rest? Are you well prepared for them? You will be meeting your classmates in three days."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Rasmus averted his gaze for a moment, then looked back at his House Head hesitantly. "Uh… will the Headmistress announce me?"

"Oh, I expect so," Professor Vector nodded. "She must; you are a new student who is not in the first year; your classmates must know about you."

Rasmus sighed and nodded. He was prepared for that, and despite any educational arrangement, school life was pretty much similar across schools- both his mother and father had attested to that. Of course his mother secretly thought that Hogwarts' environment was savage, and his father secretly thought that Athens' students were rabid; and while they both said as much to him, they never did so to each other. He smiled to himself, but what Professor Vector said then effectively erased that from his face:

"You know, Rasmus, I feel I must warn you- your father, Severus, had a… particular reputation here. When your classmates learn of your… well, existence, they will… how shall I put it? Want to know how, shall we say, wrong they had been in their idea of him."

A sardonic smirk spread across Rasmus' face.

"You want to know the story of my conception, Professor? Hasn't my father's portrait told the Headmistress?"

"Oh, so you know-" the professor stopped her words before she showed just how eager she was to know that bit of gossip- and now was the only chance to legitimately ask the boy, while in the same time getting an idea about what was lying ahead in terms of handling not only the Hogwarts grapevine but also be able to predict fights and who would have them.

She cleared her throat.

"Rasmus, even if the Headmistress does know, she doesn't gossip. And I wouldn't ask you to tell me if it weren't for your own benefit; students can be quite unyielding and I will be able to help you more if I know what to stop before it happens."

Rasmus grinned mirthlessly.

"I don't think that can be helped."

"It just strikes me as odd for Severus to have lied about Lily Evans," Septima said, purposefully carelessly.

Rasmus frowned, almost scowling and his eyes were clearly saying I know what you are doing.

"Do you need anything more from me, professor?" he asked in a dry, sneering voice- and for that moment, he was so much like Severus Snape that Professor Vector blinked.

"N-no," she said and Rasmus got up, going to the door.

"My father, professor, did not lie about Ev-" Rasmus had begun saying, but just then the fireplace flared up, and McGonagall's frantic face appeared:

"Septima! Septima, I need you!"

The professor immediately got up and Rasmus frowned, his heart skipping a beat. What was going on?

***

Harry flew to Hogwarts on his own, leaving Ron and Hermione to follow on the eve of September 1. He told himself it was to give them the brief time to be on their own, for the Weasleys to be all together- but he knew it was all a pretense. He just wanted to be alone for forty eight hours, and not worried about what he'd say, how he'd react, and most of all, not talk about those who were lost. Harry had found that the only place where that did not happen, was oddly enough, Hogwarts- when it had no students.

Passing through the quiddich pitch to get to the main entry, he grinned, seeing Professor Bai making idle circles in it. Harry particularly liked this auror- he was completely insane, but in a logical way.

"Ah, Harry," the man said as he flew up to him the moment he saw him. "So you are going to be with us, this year?"

"Seems so, Guiren," Harry smiled back. "You know; due process."

"It'll be good to have someone like you here this year; there's a Snape in fifth year, and you can bet his eyes are not innocent."

"There's a what in fifth year?" Harry cried out, almost forgetting he was airborne on a broom.

***

Nikos opened his eyes and groaned. It felt like an elephant was sitting on his head and a python was flexing around his chest.

"Godfather?" the voice anxiously asked in Greek.

"Mmmh, Roc," murmured Nikos in the same language, trying not to slur. "Doncha worry."

"How are you feeling?"

Nikos blinked again, and finally his vision cleared a little. Rasmus' eyes were searching his, and his expression was worried. Nikos smiled and patted his godson's forearm as he was leaning over his bedside.

"You look like your mum that way- don't. I'm fine. Is this the famed infirmary?"

"Yeah," Rasmus didn't sound convinced. "Godfather, what happened? Did the Arithmancy backfire?"

Nikos shook his head, and winced as his body informed him it was a bad idea.

"It worked too well," he said wryly. "Who found me?"

"McGonagall and Vector. They're going to ask questions."

"I know," Nikos sighed. "I'll answer some. We will need allies, after all."

"Allies? More allies than what Headmistress Gerakas has done, back in Athens? What did you see?"

Nikos sighed, contemplating whether to answer first and ask for some painkilling potion then, or the other way round.

"I see you're back with us, Mr. Galanos," came McGonagall's stern voice, and both he and Rasmus turned to look. McGonagall was standing next to Poppy, and she did not look at all pleased. She shot Rasmus a glance.

"Leave us, mr. Snape."

"But-" Rasmus tried to object, but had no time to.

"I said leave us," McGonagall's eyes flashed in a way Rasmus hadn't seen before.

"Go on, Roc," Nikos murmured and he reluctantly got up.

"You can come visit after," Poppy ventured as Rasmus dragged his steps out, but Minerva was not even listening any longer, locking glanced with the wizard on the bed.

Rasmus intended to wait at the entrance to the infirmary, maybe even listening in to what McGonagall and Nikos would be speaking about, but he had no chance to do that, either, because the moment he stepped out of there, he found himself face to face with Harry Potter.

"Snape, is it?" the green-eyed young man asked belligerently, with no intent to be cordial.

Rasmus' teeth clenched and he simply glared.

"What do you want?" he spat. "And why are you here?"

"Good questions, why don't you answer them? How in all hell can you be a Snape?"

"Out of my way, Potter, or I'll hex you off," Rasmus' voice became steely. His wand was already in his hand.

Harry raised his own.

"A forearm wand holster, Snape? Preparing for war, are you?" he challenge.

"I come from Greece, you imbecile," Rasmus resisted the urge to roll his eyes and thus break eye contact. "All students there have forearm wand holsters. Did dying and coming back complete toast your brain? Or ehis kalo ston engefalo re –"

Harry didn't listen to the rest of the geyser of foreign invective that expressed Rasmus' ire, as the younger boy bumped past him, school robes billowing as he still muttered and ranted in his storming through the aisle- but he wondered if perhaps jumping the younger Snape was not the smartest thing to do.

***

And that's that! Thoughts? And don't forget to tell me what you'd like, because next chapter determines how long the story will be.

Also- if the way Rasmus calls Niko 'godfather' sounds alien, it's because in Greek (which he was speaking at the time) youngsters call relatives with their title/ relation type until at least coming of age. Often, if they are very intimate, much later, too. Not to call a godfather 'godfather' is considered rude or hostile in Greek etiquette. There, now you know some Greek interpersonal behavior etiquette :D

Mitremlap: you're welcome.

Duj: His arithmancy went very well… but as for the attack, yes and no. He definitely encountered things that could cook his brain.

Review at will ;)