Disclaimer: Not mine. I wish they were.

Authors Notes: Thanks for your reviews. I am not considering jumping ship for those of you who are worried. Sometimes the writing happens easier. Thanks for your patience. Of Ordinary Darkness, the book, was inspired by the film, What the Bleep Do We Know?

excessivelyperky is way cool. Thanks for doing what you do.

Enjoy

Chapter 22

The Best Laid Plans

The library was a room Harry had been anxious to explore, so he lamented the fact that he wouldn't be given much of an opportunity today. Comfortable, plush seating hugged a series of rounded windows that overlooked the ocean and wrapped themselves around the room. The windows and seating were interrupted every meter or so by pillars of books that wrapped around the room as well and stretched to the ceiling. In the center of the room was a circle of overstuffed chairs and love seats that surrounded a hearth built into the floor.

The books were in alphabetical order, and Harry looked irritably at the spines of the D's. He thought something on defense or dark magic might help him with essay that Snape had assigned as punishment for Obliviating Filch, and apparently behaving like a dark wizard in training. Mindful that he'd been given only five minutes to search the stacks, Harry angrily grabbed two books with interesting titles. After a very quick perusal, he decided they might be worth a try. One appeared to be devoted entirely to Unforgivables.

Harry stalked over to the O's and checked for books on Obliviation. To his surprise he found a book called, Of Ordinary Darkness. Dislodging the book roughly, he realized he should look in the M's for memory charms. After a hasty scan of the shelves, he found one of those and also a book on mind magic. He was relieved he didn't come across anything by Lockhart. Harry glanced fleetingly at the library door, almost expecting Snape to come in and admonish that his time was up.

Not seeing the older wizard when he left the well lit room, Harry decided there was still time to glance at the vast collection of books in the little potions library just off the lab as well. When he didn't find anything to fit his subject, he grabbed A Healers Guide to Medicinal Magic. Harry had used the book to make the organ mender potion. He thought he may as well take advantage of the fact that he'd been given permission to borrow books as an opportunity to take a loan of one he was interested in any way.

Harry made his way back to his bedroom with the small pile of books he had been able to collect in the allotted time. Snape was no longer at the dining room table. Harry took a moment to stare in petulant anger at the older wizard's closed bedroom door before entering his own room to deposit the pile of books on his bed with an irate bounce. Several books fell onto the floor, and Harry gave one a frustrated kick before he thought better of it. The young man began to pace back and forth across the room with short jerky strides.

He wasn't upset about the essay, Harry thought reasonably. And if it had only been that, he would think that for the for the second time in as many days he had gotten off far lighter than he had expected to with the Potions Master. Snape hadn't bothered to berate him or call him names, which usually seemed to be the man's favorite part of punishing anyone. The discussion about darkness had even been interesting, and the young man was curious about how the heck Snape thought he was going to A. K. Voldemort without becoming a bit dark. He wanted to understand Snape's opinion about Obliviation, and really didn't mind spending a little time reading and writing about it.

What did bother Harry was Snape's declaration that he was confined to his room. And the announcement that he wouldn't be given dinner if he didn't complete his work on time was startlingly like Aunt Petunia. On top of the hidings, or whatever cruelty Vernon meted out for offenses like breathing and existing, Petunia Dursley had always taken obscene pleasure in starving Harry for days on end.

Harry wondered vaguely why Snape had bothered to let him eat lunch if he meant starvation to be part of the punishment. It felt sickeningly like betrayal after the intimacy of the Occlumency pathway. Harry felt the link in his soul spasm painfully when Snape had told him to remain in his room and not bother leaving if he had not completed the essay by dinner time. He had felt violated and hurt, which was exceedingly odd as he had never felt enough loyalty from Snape to make betrayal and issue.

Snape had spent countless years calling the young man every synonym for stupid imaginable, yet feeling hurt had never entered Harry's mind. Harry had thought his days of being starved and locked up were over. Well, he just wouldn't bloody put up with it, the young man decided. He would do the essay, but he wasn't some weak little first year Snape could bully. Harry would be of age in two short weeks. He would be seventeen and a full grown wizard. Who the hell did Snape think he was? Harry would tell him to sod off. I'll stand up to the mean git if he tries to lock my bedroom door, Harry thought defiantly. He wasn't afraid of Snape. Well, he was, actually, but Harry would fight back. He'd...he'd...

"Bloody buggering hell," he heard Snape curse in loud fury from down the hall. "I'll ring your scrawny neck when I get my hands on you!" He'd tell Dumbledore perhaps, Harry thought anxiously, as angry foot falls pounded down the hall toward his room. Harry scrambled to pick up the books from the floor, as though his mistreatment of them might have caused Snape's anger. He put all but one on the bed and dived toward the desk in the corner. Harry wrestled the volume open as his bum slapped into the wooden chair. He sat straight in an attempt to look studious.

Fawkes arrived just a moment before Snape. The bird came to perch on the untidy pile of books and settle his wings haughtily just as the older wizard skidded to an angry stop in front of Harry's bedroom door. The phoenix let out what could only be characterized as an enraged screech.

There was trickle of blood running from Snape's left earlobe. His hair looked as though he had been out in a wind storm, and the man's face was flushed bright pink.

Harry put the book down as his mouth fell open. Before he could think better of it, he began to laugh. "Are you all right, Professor?" The teenager inquired between hicuppy chuckles.

"Stupid bird," Snape muttered, as he touched his earlobe gingerly and winced in pain.

Fawkes flapped his wings a bit, causing Snape to take a step backwards and Harry to let out a full on guffaw. The older wizard shot an angry scowl in the young man's direction, causing Harry to laugh all the harder.

Snape squared his shoulders deliberately and glared down his impressive nose. "This needs to be delivered," Snape explained, arching an eyebrow and proffering a scroll of parchment in Fawkes direction. The phoenix took the scroll disdainfully and disappeared in a flash of light "Fawkes was a bit upset to be warded in Albus' room so long. He usually has the run of the house, when he is here." Snape informed Harry in a dark tone as the boy attempted to subdue his laughter.

"Oh," Harry replied, clearing his throat purposefully but not trusting himself to say more.

Fawkes reappeared in another spectacular flash. He dropped a scroll in Snape's hand and returned to perching on top of the books on Harry's bed. Snape took a moment to unfurl the parchment and scan the reply.

"I have several errands I need to attend to, Potter," Snape informed the boy disdainfully, as he slid the parchment into the pocket of his robe. "You have your instructions. I will return in a few hours time.

"Okay," Harry nodded, biting his lip. His anger had given away to mirth for the moment. Snape's comically mussed hair was more than the younger wizard could bear in silence. It looked as though Fawkes had spent several minutes batting the Professor upside the head with his powerful wings.

"The house is equipped with a visitor alarm," Snape continued. If you hear this sound, it means the visitor is a Muggle." Snape raised his wand and Harry heard a Muggle doorbell. "You need only say Muggleproof, and the house will obscure anything that Muggles would find disconcerting.

"Cool," Harry opined.

"On the off chance that a wizard should visit, you will hear this sound." Snape raised his wand again, and at the sound of the shrill alarm whistle, Harry covered his ears.

"Yow!" Harry complained, as he stuck an index finger in each ear to try block out the noise.

"If you hear that sound, you are to touch this image." Snape indicated a collage of what appeared to be Muggle photos of scenic views in a frame that adorned the wall. Harry realized with a start the photo Snape pointed to was Hogsmeade. "Simply rubbing your thumb across the image will do," Snape continued. "You will be transported to Hogsmeade. Hide in the Shrieking Shack. If you don't hear from me in twenty four hours, use the passageway to return to Hogwarts. Find Minerva and tell her your woeful tale. She'll probably threaten to hex you a few times before she buys it completely," Snape added snarkily.

"What if it's a friendly wizard visiting?" Harry wanted to know.

"No one is supposed to know we are here, so it would no doubt be a Death Eater, you dunderhead." Snape pointed out irritably. "Please attend to these instructions with more than your normal level of obedience. If we are discovered, there is little doubt someone will be sent here to bring you to the Dark Lord. If they fail, and I discover you have been playing the idiotic little hero," Snape threatened, "I will tie a bow around your disobedient neck and deliver you myself."

"All right," Harry agreed with a frown, his anger returning.

"I'm sure you needn't worry, however." Snape continued after a breath in a milder tone. "I don't expect any of the Dark Lord's followers to stop by, else I wouldn't go. I shall return shortly. Do you think you can manage to behave until I get back?" Snape asked snidely.

"Yes," Harry replied stiffly.

"As for the door to your room," Snape began indicating Harry's bedroom door.

Here it comes, Harry thought. He's going to lock me in. Bastard. Just like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.

"What about it?" Harry asked, trying to sound belligerent, but he realized he sounded a bit plaintive instead.

"You might want to keep it open," Snape advised. "So Fawkes can fly in and out as he pleases." Snape explained. Fawkes had already calmed down significantly, and he was trilling contentedly from atop the pile of books.

"Keep my door open?" Harry said uncertainly. "You want me to keep it open?" That was certainly different than being locked in. "Well sure. I mean... No problem." Harry agreed, with relieved confusion.

"It might put him in a better mood," Snape suggested ruefully as he touched his throbbing earlobe. The phoenix took flight and landed on the older wizard's shoulder causing him to tense slightly. A single tear healed the wound and Snape uttered a quiet thanks. As Fawkes stretched to return to her book top perch, one strong wing smacked Snape soundly along side the head. This caused Harry to laugh again. The man fixed both the boy and bird with murderous glares. The Potions Master raked his long fingers through his hair several times as he swept from the room.

As Harry heard the front door click shut, he took a moment to ponder whether Snape had intended to lock him and had just decided against it because of Fawkes. The young man had been certain he was in for a repeat of the worst of Privet Drive. Harry hadn't imagined it, Snape had made the comment about remaining in his room till he was done. It figured that someone like Snape would think starvation was a reasonable punishment. It was what Harry despised his Aunt Petunia for most of all. There would be endless days with maybe a bit of juice or water...

Harry realized abruptly that he was overreacting. That was not what Snape had said. The man had not locked him in and he had mentioned one meal if Harry didn't finish his essay. Even if he did miss dinner, it was actually nothing like the Dursley's, who would give Harry an insurmountable list of meaningless chores, and then punish him when he failed to complete them. Suddenly feeling a little stupid for his earlier panic, Harry realized if he spent a bit less whining, and more time working, he could probably finish the essay. Ruefully, he went to his trunk to retrieve parchment, ink, and a quill.

It was Of Ordinary Darkness Harry managed to grab in his earlier haste to avoid the irate swearing Snape barreling down the hall. Harry decided the book was extremely interesting as he read and made a few notations. It discussed light and dark behavior and how a wizard's attitude opened up magical receptors in the body. Individual acts of cruelty or laziness when repeated over and over built up and took root in the receptors and contributed to ones magical make up. Harry wondered what Snape's magical receptors must look like after so many years of cruelty to his students and others.

As Harry read on, the book explained that focusing on and being judgmental or jealous of the magical properties of others was perhaps the most damaging, yet common practice of all. It created a sort of gray magic, the book said. It allowed magical growth to stagnate, producing a weak wizard, who would not reach their full magical potential, and were susceptible to ordinary and severe darkness. The vast majority of magical people, the book explained, experienced only one small push of magical growth after coming of age and then progress came to a halt.

The only way for growth to continue to take place, the text argued was to actively focus on the type of witch or wizard one wanted to become. Ordinary darkness could be replaced by bombarding the receptors with the opposite intention. Cruelty could be replaced by kindness with conscious effort, the book said. Harry thought about how lazy he used to be about school work, and how easily it came now after putting in a bit of effort. By the same token the book said, dark magic could be strengthened and enhanced by cognizant effort to do so.

Unwillingly, Harry's thoughts again turned to Snape. Attempting not to judge, he wondered what type of wizard Snape had wanted to become. Dumbledore had trained him, according to Snape. Harry wondered what kind of training the young Snape had received and what sort of wizard had the Headmaster wanted him to become? Snape certainly wasn't a light wizard. Yet he wasn't completely dark either. The man seemed to be something in between, but he was the furthest thing from a weak willed gray wizard Harry had ever seen. Snape exuded power. But it wasn't that sort of evil, oily power of Voldemort or Lucius Malfoy. It was true the man could be unwavering cruel, and scathingly caustic, but Harry couldn't picture Snape holding anyone under a Crucio and enjoying it. Nor was Snape's magic the genial, easy going confidence of the Headmaster's.

Harry thought about the picture of the kid in the green jumper on the mantel, and the memory Snape had shown him earlier. Harry had commented that it was a nice memory, and it was. But it was almost surreal. How did the sensitive kid in the memory, who had Dumbledore bragging about his OWL results grow up to be Snape? In fact how could the image that Harry saw in the pensieve of fifteen year old Snape being tormented by the Marauders be the same kid who shyly sat and ate shepherds pie in the memory. Harry had no doubt the story Snape told Robert about the cruel prank the bullies played, was the same he'd seen in the pensieve. The awful image was burned in Harry's mind.

"Who wants to see me take Snivelly's pants off?" James Potter had asked with a hateful sneer. Harry could still hear the words.

Snape had told Robert in the memory that he'd been punished by the Headmaster because he had complained and used foul language. Who wouldn't use foul language after being treated that way?

It was difficult to picture the brooding fifteen year old Snape who was tormented by the Marauders being the same fifteen year old Snape in the green jumper. It was equally difficult for Harry to imagine the Headmaster punishing Snape for complaining about such a prank. In the memory the Headmaster had behaved so loving and kind to young Snape. It was all very confusing. It must have been really confusing to Snape to have the Headmaster be so hard on him at school and then act like he cared for him in the summer. It was almost the opposite of Harry's own relationship with the Headmaster, the young man realized with a jolt. During the school year, the Headmaster behaved as though he cared for Harry, yet every summer he made him go back the hell that was Privet Drive.

Shaking away these thoughts, Harry took up his quill and dipped it in the ink. He began to write about he ways Obliviation was similar to the Unforgivables. Not making use of any of the books on the bed at present, Harry could come up with several ways it was similar to the Imperious. Both spells tampered with ones mind and interfered with ones ability to act upon their own free will. With the Imperious, one could be made to carry out the wishes of another, and with Obliviation one could be made to forget what their own desires were.

The young man continued in this vein for a while and then discussed how all four spells could be used together. One could be placed under the Imperious and be forced to use a Killing Curse or the Cruciatus, and then could be made to forget it ever happened with Obliviation. Thinking about the information he had read in Of Ordinary Darkness, Harry wondered what effect that would have on the person's magical receptors. One could be turned into a dark wizard against their will and essentially without their knowledge. Harry found the thought sobering as he put it down on paper.

Harry wondered briefly if Snape had used any of these curses. He must have done at some point, the young man realized. Well, who was Snape to judge him then? Harry thought defensively. The young man stopped himself before he went too far down that path. Snape probably wasn't judging him, Harry forced himself to admit. He had been discussing Harry's role in bringing down Voldemort, and he was apparently trying to make him aware of what he needed to do to succeed.

Snape had joked about there being a prophecy about him too. Harry wondered if that were true. Had Snape's prophecy said he must become a dark wizard to fulfill his obligations? Perhaps that's what Dumbledore's training had been about. That was almost too bizarre to contemplate. The greatest light wizard in the wizarding world teaching dark magic. I could find out via the Occlumency pathway, he reasoned

He considered for a moment how different Snape had seemed in his mind. The feeling of the pathway was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced. It was not as though upon entering Snape's mind Harry had suddenly discovered all the man's cruel snideness was an act, but the intimacy of the link did unearth a certain humanity Harry had not recognized before. Harry wasn't sure what Snape had felt from his end, but the moment the older wizard's magic anchored in Harry's soul, he felt connected in a way he had never experienced before. Harry could feel link even now, strangely reassuring in its strong presence.

Harry had immediately realized that the Occlumency pathway was an excellent way for him to learn how to shield his thoughts. Snape had been able to demonstrate from inside his mind, and it was a bit like learning defensive shields and blocks. It was much easier for Harry to understand than vague admonitions to clear his mind. There were apparently different types of blocks depending on the type of memory. And there were ways to leave false trails so the person performing Legillimency thought they were seeing more than they were. After one lesson the young man found himself wanting to learn more. Harry found himself wishing that Snape had been able to use this method from the beginning. Although he understood why he had not, and was a bit curious about what had enabled them to establish the Occlumency pathway now, given the intimacy the process required.

888

Snape Apparated directly from the spot between the cliffs to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. He took a moment to place the hairs he had Accio'ed from Potter's head into the vial of polyjuice potion, before he downed the foul tasting liquid. It had been simple enough to pluck the wiry strands from the boy's scalp as he had plugged his ears to block out the noise from the wizard alarm spell placed on the beach house. Severus took a moment after his transformation into Potter was complete to transfigure his clothing smaller. He had thought to wear a Muggle T-shirt and jeans as Potter often did, and he had donned one of his more nondescript robes.

As he climbed up through the passage to the Whomping Willow, Snape found himself a bit nervous about facing McGonagall. He had confidence in his ability to make her believe he was Potter. Sending the request for a meeting by Fawkes ensured that she would believe the request authentic. But Severus had always been a bit afraid of Minerva McGonagall. It had been that way since he was a student, and she was apt descend upon him like a pack of angry hornets for his brilliantly clever retaliation pranks on her precious Marauders.

Although his relationship with his colleague in years hence had grown into an affectionate respect and he counted her as a friend, he was terrified to speak to her now. He had not done so since the Headmaster's death. She'd never be able to forgive him, he knew. Even with Albus' explanation via the Angelth, she would never be able to forgive Severus for following those particular orders. It was best at present, he decided, to have her think he was Potter. Though Albus had pointed out, and rightly so, he'd have to face her eventually.

Albus had been pleased when Severus had spoken to him earlier regarding establishing an Occlumency pathway with Potter. He didn't bother to scold him as he had done in the past by saying Severus should have done so sooner. The Headmaster had also been in agreement with Severus' plans regarding speaking to McGonagall, Malfoy and Dobby.

Snape brushed off his knees and squared shoulders that felt too thin, as he made his way across the castle grounds. His steps faltered slightly as he came upon Albus' tomb. But he steadied his breathing as his hand went instinctively towards the Angelth at his neck. He continued on to the castle doors, where McGonagall stood to greet him.

"Headmistress," he remembered to call her, and a smile lit his boyish features. He realized he was happy to see his old friend, and was suddenly gripped by an overwhelming desire to confess. Then he was seized by the fear of her reaction, and had to fight away an image of the formidable witch boxing his ears.

"Harry," she greeted kindly. "It is so good to see you."

"How are the Weasleys?" Snape knew he would be expected to ask, but found himself wanting to know as well how the band of redheads fared after the death of one of there number.

"As well as can be expected," she intoned sadly, as she gave the password to the gargoyles and led the way up to her office. "The funeral is tomorrow at the Burrow. Ten in the morning. I don't suppose you could come..."

"I can't. I don't think," Snape admitted as they made their way into her office. He bit his lip as she turned to look at him. "I'll ask," he promised quietly.

"Who is this person the Headmaster chose to train you, Harry?" McGonagall asked in honest curiosity. "Is it someone you trust?" She asked waving the younger wizard into a chair.

"It's someone the Headmaster trusts, ma'am." It had been years since Snape had been obliged to address her thus, but somehow it still felt comfortable. "And it's someone you have trusted in the past," he couldn't stop himself from adding.

She nodded her head slowly, making Snape think she was weighing her response. He thought about adding that he trusted him too, but that wouldn't come off well if she worked out that he wasn't Potter.

"I wanted to talk to you about the coming school year. I won't be attending classes. But I will be studying my regular course work in addition to my other training and would like to sit for my NEWTs in the spring."

"Of course, Harry," McGonagall smiled, seemingly pleased.

"Additionally, I'd like to teach a Saturday morning class in Advanced Defense to all the old D.A. members and anyone else who wants to participate. I'd like to talk to Malfoy about doing the same with the Slytherins. Doing away with Voldemort is going to be one thing, but getting around his followers is going to be something else again. We'll need an army for that. He will expect the Order and the Ministry, but I think we can catch him off guard with a band of well trained students as well. And if Malfoy picks his Slytherins carefully, we might have a group of fighters he thinks are on his side but really aren't." Snape explained.

"I hate to risk the students," she said after a moments thought.

"They are at risk at any rate," Snape said a touch snidely before he caught himself. "Ma'am," he added to try to cover his lapse.

"If only I could be sure what Albus would want," McGonagall complained with a painful sigh.

"These are his wishes, ma'am," Snape insisted, sounding like Potter again.

"How can you be this certain, Harry?" she asked holding his gaze.

Snape looked down and thoughtfully fingered the Angelth. Albus had given him permission to share it with her if he thought it would help. Severus felt certain he could convince her without Albus' help, but there was a pain in her expression that he thought might ease slightly, if she knew the Headmaster was not completely gone.

He thumbed the clasp open.

"Hello, my boy," the Headmaster greeted warmly. "How did your meeting with Minerva go?"

"I'm actually still with her Headmaster," Severus explained taking in McGonagall's tearfully surprised expression. "I wonder if you could assure her that she can trust me to know your wishes."

"Of course, my boy. Of course." Snape turned the locket toward McGonagall. "Hello, Minerva," the Headmaster quipped as the witch put a hand to her mouth and the tears flowed freely down her old face. "I am sorry for all the pain you are experiencing, my dear," the older wizard intoned kindly. "You may trust that I am making my wishes known and indeed revising them as the need arises."

When it seemed he would say no more, Severus flipped the Angelth toward himself and, with a quiet thanks, closed it.

"That is a bit more than a portrait," McGonagall observed after a moment.

"Yes," Snape admitted.

"Are there two of them?" She asked.

"There are," Snape affirmed again.

"And this teacher the Headmaster trust so much," she began, "he wears one of them?"

"Yes ma'am," Snape agreed, looking her in the eye.

"You may start your Advanced Defense lessons the first Saturday after school begins," she told him. "Remus will be teaching the regular class. You may wish to coordinate with him."

"What I plan to teach is going to be above and beyond the regular syllabus," Snape explained.

"Killing curses?" she inquired, suddenly strident. "Unforgivables?" she asked with and accusatory lilt.

"No ma'am!" Severus assured her, backing up a bit.

McGonagall seemed to take a moment to collect her thoughts. "You will find young Mr. Malfoy down in the Slytherin dormitory. The password is Dragon's Lair," she informed the younger wizard.

Snape curled his lip slightly. Understanding himself to be dismissed he got up and headed for the door.

"Severus," McGonagall said stopping the younger wizard dead in his tracks. "Will it be you or Harry who teaches the class?"

Severus considered asking what she was on about, but at her hard look, decided against it.

"The boy will come and teach his friends what he has studied during the week," Snape explained, as though he feared he might recieve dentention.

"I do understand that you must have been following Albus' orders, to do what you did, " she stated in a slightly shaky voice. "But you need to understand it will be quite sometime before I can forgive you."

The younger wizard nodded his head and swallowed hard in understanding. He turned to face the door.

"However," she began again not unkindly. "Do take care of yourself, and take care of Harry," she requested, her voice breaking slightly.

"I will, Minerva," he promised and quit the room. One day I'll learn not to underestimate that old girl. Severus thought ruefully, as he made his way down to the dungeon.

Upon arriving in the Slytherin boy's dormitory, Snape knocked once on Draco's door. The boy was sprawled out reading on a center bed when he entered.

"Potter?" Draco questioned with a partial sneer. But upon holding eye contact, he recognized Snape from their Occlumency pathway. "Professor," Malfoy chirped, jumping out of bed, and bouncing happily on his bare feet.

Snape gave the young man an affectionate look, and then narrowed his eyes. He began to move them critically around the room. There were empty butterbeer bottles, sweets wrappers and books littering the floor and four beds. Dirty plates with the remnants of chips and encrusted eggs sat near a shoe, a sock, and a pair of underpants on Goyle's four poster. Bedclothes and wizard solitaire cards were strewn about.

"Are you the only one living here?" Snape inquired darkly.

"Yes," Draco admitted and was about to apologize for the mess.

"Clean up this room immediately!" Snape roared in his best Head of House voice. It felt good to yell at one of his Slytherins, after feeling like such as schoolboy with McGonagall.

While Malfoy scrambled to obey, Snape told him of his plan.

"Do you think you can gather a small core group of students who can pretend loyalty to the Dark Lord and then be willing to fight against him?" He asked the blond boy.

"I think I can, sir," the young man said confidently. "The easiest way will be to get those who have already hinted they oppose the Dark Lord and get them to pretend they are loyal to him."

Snape always admired how quickly Draco's mind worked. "Well done. Now, you will be learning from Potter along with his club friends on Saturdays," Snape raised a warning eyebrow when the blond boy started to frown, and Draco quickly altered his expression. "Then you will teach the skills to the Slytherins throughout the week. You might want to take them in small groups or one at a time, so as not to arouse too much suspicion from the rest of the house."

"Good idea, sir," Draco acknowledged. " That way I can just pretend I'm tutoring them in another subject. We should train together sometimes though."

"We may have to work out some details as we go along," Snape agreed. "I will be in touch Draco," He said, preparing to go. Severus paused to give the boy a close looking over. "I am very proud of the choice you made," he told the young man. "Do help McGonagall in any way you can," he instructed.

"I will, sir," Draco promised.

"And don't let me ever find this dorm room in that state again," Snape said sternly, and soundly cuffed the back of the blond boy's head.

"You won't," Draco agreed embarrassed. "See you soon, sir."

"As soon as I can manage," Snape told him, giving the young man's shoulder a squeeze.

I hope you enjoyed it. Please don't forget to review.