A/N: Thank you so much for the kind reviews! They're deeply appreciated.

Chapter Fifteen: Beaches and Dungeons

The second Quidditch match of the year was coming up quickly, and Harry found himself consumed once more by the prospect of leading Slytherin to victory. Marcus Flint increased the number of practices, though Professor Snape didn't hesitate to step in when he attempted to impose three per week.

"The Quidditch Cup is worth nothing if the entire team fails their end-of-year exams," he reminded them, eyes lingering on Marcus Flint, who determinedly looked away.

It was no secret that Marcus was on the verge of failing every class. This was a remarkable feat, given even Greg and Vince still managed to stay somewhat afloat, albeit with intense aid from Professor Snape and older students assigned to the task.

"What happens if he does fail?" Harry asked Terence Higgs one evening, watching as Marcus stormed out of the common room to his weekly tutoring session with Professor Snape.

"Doesn't really matter if he fails his classes," Terence said, brow furrowed, not looking up from his library book. "It's the N.E.W.T.s that actually matter. No one will hire you if you don't do well there."

"What happens if you don't pass a single N.E.W.T.?" Harry wondered aloud. "Has that ever happened before?"

"I'm certain it has," Terence said shortly. "Now will you leave me be and let me read? I'm terribly busy."

Harry shot him a funny look, then climbed out of his chair and started across the common room, aimlessly looking for a spot in which he was more welcome. Ellen, catching his eye, motioned for him to come over.

"Don't mind him," she said, bent over her own book. "Flint isn't the only one who has his N.E.W.T.s coming up."

"What's he got to so be nervous about?" Harry asked, glancing back at the Head Prefect. "He's the smartest person at Hogwarts. He'll ace the exams with his eyes closed."

"Tell him that, won't you?" Ellen said with a small grin. "He won't listen to me."

"Well, if he won't listen to you, why is he going to listen to me?" Harry asked, sitting next to her. "Are the N.E.W.T.s really that terrible?"

Ellen paused, taking the question seriously. "I've gone over a few of them from the past few years, just so I know what's coming when it's my turn next year. And I won't lie, they're called Nastily Exhausting for a reason."

Harry dreaded his own inevitable experience with O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s; it sometimes seemed as though he was barely keeping up with his second year coursework. The thought of experiencing something that put fear even into Terence Higgs was a daunting one.

"That's Terence, though, isn't it?" Ellen asked, as though she could read Harry's mind. She rolled her eyes. "Typical Slytherin ambition. He won't be happy until he's scored perfect marks on every single N.E.W.T., never mind that being impossible."

Across the room, Terence's head darted up, and he snapped, "No running!" to first-years Laura Riggle and Elizabeth Simpson, who slowed as they passed before speeding up again.

"You will come, won't you, Severus?" Filius asked, beaming entirely too brightly.

Severus forced himself to keep his expression as polite as possible as he said, "If I'm caught up on my coursework... perhaps."

For the first time in years, Filius was throwing himself a birthday party ("It's a milestone year, but I won't tell you which," he'd said coyly) in the staff room. The fool had decided March in Scotland was a perfectly lovely time to attempt a beach theme, and he seemed unable to stop talking about the various transformations the staff room would undergo.

"I've always wanted to learn to waterski," Filius said, twirling his wand and gazing at the portion of the room he planned to turn into a sandbar.

Before Severus's mind's eye could linger on that image for too long, he was saved by a loud slam as Argus stormed into the room, sputtering so furiously he couldn't get out a single word.

"What on earth?" Minerva hurried forward, joined by Severus. The two took a good look at him, then glanced at one another- he was sober. Incensed, yes, but sober. "Sit," Minerva ordered, as Severus yanked a chair out from under the nearest table.

Argus shook his head, instead storming back and forth, expression murderous. "I'll kill the little monsters. I'll kill them."

"My word," Pomona said, pressing a hand to her lips, eyes widening.

"Let him pace," Severus murmured to Minerva, who took a step back and watched as the caretaker gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath until he finally calmed down enough to speak- 'calmed down' being a relative term.

"There'll have to be an expulsion for this," Argus said, the faintest bit of vindictive glee flashing across his face. It vanished nearly as quickly as it came, and he finally hurled himself into the proffered chair. "There has to be. My office's been broken into!"

The lock had been forced, and rather crudely so. Severus and Minerva stood beside the ajar office door, examining the broken padlock.

"They didn't use magic," Severus noted. "If they did, it wasn't a simple Alohomora."

"I noticed," Argus said through gritted teeth. "I'm not foolish enough to secure my office with a lock every first-year could open in their ruddy sleep."

The office itself was in disarray. Minerva drew in a sharp breath as they observed the scene. Two of the wooden filing cabinets had been knocked on their sides; the rest had the contents of their drawers emptied on the floor. His desk had been scoured as well, along with various battered boxes of confiscated items.

"The rotten little bastards," Argus muttered. "As though I haven't got enough going on."

"Is anything missing?" Minerva asked, reaching out and placing a hand on Argus's shoulder.

For a moment, Severus thought Argus might shake it off, but the man simply stiffened before forcing himself to relax. "Haven't the faintest idea. It's bloody mess in here, isn't it?"

Minerva waved her wand and the filing cabinets righted themselves, their contents rising up and returning to their drawers, as Severus turned to the desk and boxes to do the same.

"Fancy being able to do that," Argus said, but the bite was gone from his voice, replaced by a sort of exhausted resignment. "This school is falling apart. You do know that, don't you?"

Sensationalist as Argus was, Severus couldn't help but agree. From the attacks to the general feel to day-to-day life in the castle, there was an undercurrent of something unidentifiable that Severus hadn't felt in a long time, something that threatened to simmer to the surface and wipe away all the gains that had been made since the end of the war.

"Come," Minerva finally said. "Let's get some fresh air."

The next day, Harry poured the beetle eyes he'd just measured into his cauldron, which was simmering at what seemed to be just the right temperature. At least, he hoped it was.

Potions didn't come naturally to him, not the way it had when it had just been him and Snape at the start of the year when he'd been making up his missed summer homework. Making a Swelling Solution had been far less stressful without twenty other students around him, Snape's voice barking out constantly at both perceived and actual negligence.

A glint of light, a strangled cry. Harry jerked his head up as Draco stumbled away from the table next to him, clutching his hand as he stared at the silver cutting knife he'd been using to slice Potions ingredients. The handle was sticking out of the wooden desk, its blade stuck deep into the wood.

"Haven't you been told to pay attention?" Professor Snape was beside them in an instant, grabbing at Draco's hand and examining it for any damage. Satisfied there was none, he released it and glared down at him.

"I was!" Draco protested. "It just- it just did that, sir!"

Snape gave him a sharp look; just ten minutes prior he'd had to stop Neville Longbottom from inadvertently mixing together two explosive ingredients that would have relocated the Potions classroom to the owlery.

"It did," Draco insisted, but Snape's attention was already drawn away by Lavender and Parvati, who were giggling over a game of noughts and crosses, ignoring their bubbling cauldrons.

"Brown! Patil!"

It had been some time since Severus had managed to find his way to the top of the Astronomy Tower, but his study seemed stifling, and he'd lose his mind if he spent one more minute in the common room. His Slytherins had a bit more freedom than they'd originally had under his safety precautions, but they were still cooped up, and liable to drive him mad with their pent-up energy. He'd already had to order two first-years to separate corners of the common room, and threaten several of his second and third years with the same.

Severus stubbed out his cigarette as he heard the footsteps behind him, turning just in time to face Minerva as she appeared at the top of the stairs. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Why are you even trying to hide that?" Minerva asked, nodding in the direction of the cigarette end he'd slipped behind a bit of stone ornamentation. "I know perfectly well what you're doing. Are you afraid I'll take points from Slytherin?"

"You know as well as I do that points are useless," Severus replied, taking a seat and gesturing for her to join him. "I hide it because of your lectures."

"Well, you're old enough to know it's a terrible habit." Minerva sat beside him and gave his hand a light swat. "You really ought to quit. Besides, given how hard you are on your students for the very same infraction, don't you think they're less likely to listen? They're not stupid. You stink of it."

"The potion fumes conceal the odor."

"Not nearly as much as you fool yourself into thinking."

"Minerva, you're forgetting one thing." Severus leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "I'm a terrible hypocrite."

"Well, as long as you're aware."

"Incredibly so." Severus leaned back. "What brings you here?"

"The very same that brings you, I'd imagine- minus the cigarettes."

"Students driving you mad?"

Minerva shook her head. "The letters are, and the inquiries. The Board of Governors appeared in person today, after dinner."

This was news to Severus. "The entire board?"

"Not all of them. A few representatives, sent by Lucius Malfoy." Minerva pursed her lips. "You're friendly with him. Have you heard any news?"

"I'm not friendly with him. I keep an eye on him. And no, I haven't." Severus paused, then admitted, "I've heard very little from him since the business with the Philosopher's Stone."

"He suspects your true intentions, then?"

Severus shook his head. "I don't believe so. It's more that he's retreated from the world. He failed to bring back the Dark Lord- he's terrified."

"And dangerous," Minerva said quietly.

"Yes, dangerous. More than he was before. Lucius Malfoy..." Severus trailed off and shook his head.

"Go on."

"It's complicated," Severus lied. He didn't much enjoy speaking about this sort of thing with anyone, much less Minerva, who'd spent her entire life solidly on the path of the so-called light.

"Nonsense. You just don't like sharing any more than you absolutely have to." Minerva fixed him with a sharp look. "Talk to me. He's threatening to have Albus removed, and, if that fails, shutting down the entire school."

Severus exhaled. This wasn't news, but it somehow felt more real coming from the Deputy Headmistress. "There isn't much to tell. You know what happened beneath the school."

"I do."

"He feels cornered, I imagine. He loves the idea of the Dark Lord, but as an actuality..." Severus shook his head. "The Dark Lord was- is- not kind to his followers."

"He wasn't kind to anyone," Minerva reminded him, the faintest hint of an edge to her voice.

"Of course not. Don't be sensitive; I'm not trying to diminish your experience."

"Go on, then."

"Lucius had a taste last year of what would happen if the Dark Lord returned... and he botched it horribly. He knows now for certain the Dark Lord isn't dead, and that he won't stop trying to return. He knows it's only a matter of time until he has to answer for his sins." Severus reached into his cloak pocket for a new cigarette, but found the packet empty. Stifling a mumbled swear, he continued on. "I'm not surprised he's pushing the matter of the Chamber. For all his faults, he is a father. And beyond that, removing the headmaster from power and potentially shutting down the school... it would be the downfall of the great Albus Dumbledore's reputation, wouldn't it? That must count for something in the eyes of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Don't make me even think about such a thing," Minerva murmured, then gave him an odd look. "Do you think... is there a possibility it might be him attacking students?"

"Lucius?" Severus shook his head. "You know how intensely the wards have been strengthened. No person is entering or exiting this castle without the headmaster knowing."

"Could he be directing someone else?"

Severus shook his head again. This was something he'd been over in his own mind a thousand times by now. "If he were to direct someone, it would be his son. He trusts Draco immensely. He still thinks he followed his orders when the Dark Lord was in the castle."

"Indeed," Minerva said, and she gazed over the ramparts into the night sky, memories of Draco's actual actions hovering unspoken between them. Finally, she turned back to Severus. "You should know the board is going to begin interviewing the staff shortly. I don't know when, but it will happen. Albus and I have held them off as long as we could."

Severus nodded. "What does the headmaster expect us to say?"

"The truth. That we haven't the faintest idea who is committing the attacks, but we're doing all we can to track them down." Minerva sighed. "I haven't felt this useless in years."

"If it makes you feel better, you're not the only one."

"I wish Albus would..." she trailed off, looking guilty.

"Go on. I know you're fiercely loyal to him, but you're still allowed to have your own opinions."

"He's..." Minerva paused again, then pushed forward. "He's so intent on solving this himself, while maintaining a façade of normalcy across the rest of the school. It's ridiculous- we all know what's happening, and everyone is frightened out of their wits. I'm not expecting him to run about waving his hands in the air, but this insistence on business as always..."

"There," Severus said, offering her a small, rare smile. "Was that so terrible? You still adore him, but you acknowledge he's flawed."

"Adore him?" Minerva repeated. "You make me sound like a love-sick schoolgirl. I respect him immensely."

"As do I, believe it or not. But we are in agreement on his actions regarding our current situation."

"I can't imagine they'll actually remove him," Minerva said, half to herself. "Because then I'll be in charge, and I haven't the faintest clue what to do."

"It's an unenviable position," Severus agreed. "I wouldn't want to be in your place. Mine is difficult enough."

They sat in silence for a while, then Minerva let out a low chuckle. "Would you believe I'm looking forward to Filius's party?"

"You're actually going?"

"Of course I am. It seems to be a bit of ridiculous, idiotic fun, and when is the last time we had that?"

"At my expense on Valentine's Day," Severus reminded her. "And the entire thing sounds horrific."

"Oh, do get over yourself, won't you? You act as though you're a pariah of the school-"

"I do not-"

"Yes, you do. You isolate from everyone, when they go out of their way to include you."

"I don't ask to be included."

"No, but you are all the same. That's what comradery is." Minerva gave him a side glance. "You're always banging on about how a lonely student is the worst sin there is-"

"You're putting words in my mouth-"

"I most certainly am not. It's just as you said before, Severus, you're a hypocrite." Minerva smirked at his expression. "Though it seems you don't like it when someone else tells you so."

"Minerva, you can't possibly want to go to a beach-themed party in the staff room on your day off."

"Of course not. But it will bring Filius some joy, and Merlin knows we all need a bit of joy right now." Minerva lightly swatted his hand again. "Besides, what would you say to a student in a similar position?"

"I'd leave them where they are and immediately find Filius to ask why he's inviting one of my students to his birthday party."

"Stop being difficult and answer the question."

"I'd tell them to consider going," Severus admitted. "Of course, I'm not one of my students, am I? Neither are you. Should I start holding you to the same standard to which you hold your Gryffindors?"

"I generally follow my own advice," Minerva told him. "Mostly. And I'm not proud when I'm a hypocrite. Something to consider, perhaps."

"I never said I was proud."

"No, you didn't," Minerva said. "Now, I know you've a flask hidden somewhere. Aren't you going to be polite and offer to share, or do I have to summon it myself?"

Quidditch practice that night ran long, much to Madam Hooch's irritation. Professor Snape had convinced her to keep an eye on all Slytherin practices, as though Salazar Slytherin's monster might pop out from behind a goalpost, claws bared, at any moment. Harry took a quick shower in the changing room, but he hardly had enough time to dry his hair before Madam Hooch's voice barked from outside that it was time to return to the castle.

A group of Ravenclaws was gathered on the lawn, and they watched as the Slytherins were escorted to the castle. Harry had expected ribbing from the rest of the school about his house hardly being to sneeze without supervision, and there were occasional muttered asides, but for the most part it was left unsaid. They still had visitors to the Slytherin common room, though, as always, these were recurring visits from a small fraction of the school.

Harry knew there was some talk, but he didn't hear the worst of it. He suspected it was because half the school thought he was the Parseltongue-speaking heir of Slytherin, and that he'd attack them next if they looked at him funny.

"Don't be stupid," Millicent had said when he aired this suspicion the night before. "It's not half the school that thinks that way. Probably only a third."

Now, as Harry made his way with the rest of the team up the path to the castle, he found himself gazing at Marcus Flint's back. Things with Marcus were surprisingly cordial, given he'd tried to hand him over to Voldemort the year before. Of course, Marcus had no idea that had happened.

Harry felt oddly safe around Marcus, despite everything. He'd follow orders if Voldemort gave them, but absent that he was perfectly content to stay silent and brood. With his memory wiped, he didn't even know for certain that Voldemort still existed; he remained a hazy legend from before any student could actually remember.

Besides that, Madam Hooch kept a surprisingly intense eye on them during practices, and before the attacks had started, there was always at least one older student watching. Harry hadn't thought much about it at the time, but he imagined now that Snape must be behind it. Snape was obsessed with everyone's safety, after all. The more he thought about it, the more he saw he was never actually alone with Marcus Flint.

Not for the first time, Harry wondered what went on between him and Professor Snape during their weekly meetings in the latter's study. Harry wasn't stupid; he knew they weren't entirely meant to bring up Marcus's grades. Draco had spent a large chunk of the year before in similar meetings, though he didn't speak about what had actual occurred during them.

Something caught Harry's attention; several unfamiliar wizards were exiting Hagrid's hut, the groundskeeper slowly trailing behind them.

"Who're they?" he murmured to Lucian Bole.

"Board of Governors, I think. That tall one over there, that's Lucius Malfoy, isn't it?"

Harry had never actually properly seen Draco's father. The most he'd seen were his legs as he spoke to Draco in their dorm last year, Harry hidden under Theo's bed. It wasn't difficult to see the resemblance. Harry paused, hoping he wouldn't be spotted, but Mr. Malfoy was already headed toward the castle, striding purposefully with the two other men.

Hagrid stared after them, face ashen. Harry didn't know what had just occurred, but Hagrid was unmistakably shaken. Lifting an arm, he waved, and after a moment Hagrid saw him and waved a trembling hand of his own.

"They must be questioning the staff," Adrian Pucey spoke up. "About the attacks."

"Why now?" Harry asked. "The last attack was before Christmas."

"So? They still haven't found who's responsible, have they?"

"They were questioning the staff around Christmas, too," Graham Montague said. "But it was just Dumbledore and McGonagall, I think."

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"McGonagall hauled me to her office after she caught me charming the portraits to belch Christmas carols," Graham said with a shrug. "And one of the governors was there waiting. She let me go right away. Good timing, too. She was so distracted she never told Snape."

"Snape wouldn't care that you charmed the portraits to belch Christmas carols," Harry said. "Not enough to actually do something more than give you a half-hearted bollocking."

"Yeah, well, they were dirty Christmas carols, Potter."

Harry laughed. "How dirty?"

"Too dirty for second-year ears, given your sorry attempt at profanity on the common room ceiling."

Harry grinned, but this quickly faded as he looked back at Hagrid, who hadn't budged and still looked as though he'd been plunged into icy water. He wished he could head over and keep him company, but Madam Hooch was walking quickly, and it was far too late in the evening to convince her or Snape to let him wander over to Hagrid's hut.

"I'll visit soon," he mouthed to Hagrid, who gave him a weak smile and nodded, eyes somewhere far away.

"All I'm saying is you've been slacking off as of late," Terence told the assembled prefects in the corridor around the corner from the common room. "The first years are running amuck in the common room, and it's impossible to get anything done. It's as though I have to do everything around here."

"The first years are fine," Ellen said, speaking for the rest of the group, more confident than any of them given her status as the Head Prefect's girlfriend. "They're no wilder than they've ever been. You're just in a shit mood."

Terence gave her a fierce look that clearly said not to question his authority, to which she simply raised her eyebrows. "I'm not wrong. And you're not the only one with exams coming up."

"Just do your bloody jobs," he said, after a deep breath. "That's all I ask."

With that, he stormed off, leaving them to mutter amongst themselves. They hadn't the faintest idea how much stress he was under- in charge of all the Slytherin prefects, and about to take his N.E.W.T.s. He could hardly imagine how much more difficult this year might have been if he hadn't stepped down as Quidditch Captain.

He decided to return to his dorm via the hidden route behind the tapestry guarded by Chiron the Centaur. Most of his schoolbooks were on the table next to his bed, and he hardly wanted to walk through the ruckus in the common room to get there. What he didn't count on was nearly slamming into Professor Snape as the housemaster exited his study.

"Sorry, sir," Terence barked as he dodged him, voice far sharper than he'd intended.

A hand shot out and kept him from going any further. "Mr. Higgs."

Forced to come to a stop, Terence whirled around, only just imagining how crazed he looked.

"Perhaps you'd like to step inside for a moment?"

"It's fine," he said quickly. "I haven't done anything, sir."

"I didn't say you had. Get in."

"I'm telling you," Draco said for what seemed like the hundredth time. "The knife just left my grip. I didn't do anything. It flew up in the air, and then back down, right at the back of my hand."

"You were waving your hand about just a moment before," Tracey pointed out. "While you told that joke about the werewolf and the warlock."

"So what if I was? I didn't wave it after." Draco crossed his arms. "Something happened. Something strange."

"Do you think someone tried to hex you?" Harry asked. He suspected Draco had been a bit excited and then convinced himself he wasn't at fault; it wouldn't be the first time. But all the same, he wasn't about to dismiss him entirely.

"Who'd try to hex him?" Millicent asked, then chuckled. "Well, who wouldn't try to hex him?"

"Shut it," Draco said, glaring at her. In a wounded voice he said, "I was attacked and you're making fun of me."

Harry elbowed him, nodding at the common room door. It had just slid open to reveal Ron, Hermione, and Neville, three somewhat common sights. It was the two people behind them that gave them pause.

"Go say hi to Ginny," Millicent whispered sharply to two nearby first years. "And be nice to her. She's shy."

Ginny Weasley gaped at the common room with unconcealed fright, only reluctantly guided inside by the first years. Behind her, George Weasley stared inside, stock-still, as though entering would cause him to spontaneously combust. Harry glanced at Ron, who motioned for his brother to follow.

"Come in already, Weasley," Reggie Derrick called out. "We won't attack."

George's face flickered at his choice of words, then he inhaled sharply and stepped inside.

"...time I was here, I thought it would be all gloom and doom, and chains and manacles. That sort of thing." Harry could just make out Ron speaking to his brother. "But it's not all that bad, is it?"

George didn't reply, but he did nod shortly before continuing inward.

Severus studied Terence Higgs as the boy sipped at the tea he'd been offered, barely seeming to notice or taste it.

"Thanks," he said, once he'd finished his cup. "I really should be going, sir. I need to-"

"What you need is to rest for a moment." Severus leaned forward, fixing Higgs with a stern look. "You're going to burn yourself out, and then how do you expect your exams to turn out?"

Higgs paused, half out of his seat. "I'm fine, sir. Really."

"So you say. Now sit."

Higgs reluctantly sat, and the two Slytherins studied one another.

"You're quite set on achieving a record number of N.E.W.T.s, aren't you, Higgs?"

"Not a record number, sir. I'm realistic about the odds. Though I wouldn't mind tying with the best."

"You're certainly stubborn enough to do so out of sheer willpower." Severus motioned for him to pour himself another cup of tea.

"I thought ambition was an admirable trait, sir," Higgs pointed out. "A Slytherin trait."

"Ambition ceases to be admirable when one becomes obsessive," Severus said. He paused, letting him ponder on that a moment before adding, "You're also quite set on joining the Ministry, aren't you? As a member of the Department of International Magical Co-operation?"

Higgs nodded. "Their requirements are... well, they're comprehensive, sir."

"I'm quite aware. I'm also aware you had a part-time work experience this past summer at the Ministry of Magic. Certainly you've already a leg up."

"It was a part-time work experience in the Department of Magical Transportation," Higgs pointed out. He paused. "I mean, I'm grateful to George Lambourne's parents for helping me land the role, sir. And I'm grateful to them for letting me stay with them during the summer."

"Yes, it does all come back to that, doesn't it?" To Higgs' confused expression, Severus elaborated, "It all comes back to leaving your parents' home when you were fourteen."

"I wouldn't say that," Higgs said quickly, then he frowned. "And I had to do that, didn't I, sir? They were awful. I was awful when I was with them."

"I'm well aware," Severus said dryly, thinking back to the one and only caning he'd been forced to dole out in his Hogwarts career. "I'm also well aware of how desperately you feel the need to prove yourself to people who will never accept you."

"I don't do that, sir," Higgs protested. He paused, then deflated slightly, unable to defend himself against something they both knew was true. "Well, even if I do, I've set my goals high, haven't I? Even if I fail at impressing them, I'll achieve a great deal just by giving it my all."

"And you'll never be satisfied, because the actual goal you've set yourself is an unobtainable one, and that's what actually matters to you. You're old enough to know that."

Higgs shot him a wounded look, then sighed. "I can't help it, sir. They're my parents. Even if I don't speak to them, even if they drive me mad... they're my parents, aren't they?"

Severus nodded. His own father had been a brute of a man, and yet while he'd been alive Severus had felt the same way, unable to shake the desire to somehow win over a man he despised. He'd told Higgs as much several years ago, when the boy had left home.

"Yes, they are," he conceded. "And I don't fault you for caring about them. You're allowed to feel what you feel. You wouldn't be human otherwise. I do expect you to be rational."

"I am rational, sir. Just a bit... stressed," Higgs admitted.

"A bit? I could hear you carrying on at those prefects from here." Severus leaned forward once again. "With the door closed."

"Oh." Higgs reddened slightly. "Sorry, sir."

"I appreciate your dedication to the role of Head Prefect. But it's a position that requires a level head."

"I do have a level head, sir," Higgs assured him. "I'll make certain to keep it together."

"Good." Severus leaned back. "I'd hate to see you sabotage yourself before your exams. You know I despise giving compliments, but you are rather a remarkable student. Academically and morally, minus your indiscretion allowing the house to throw a nighttime party behind my back."

"And you already punished me for that," Higgs pointed out, then flashed Severus a surprisingly cocky grin. "Besides, you don't really care about Slytherin Nights, sir. I'll bet you know about nearly every one we've ever had, and you only 'catch' us every so often, just to keep us on our toes."

"You're speaking to me very directly, Higgs. You may almost be eighteen, but I won't hesitate to stick you in the common room corner like a first year- or perhaps in the corner of the Great Hall tomorrow morning?"

Higgs chuckled, not taking him seriously for a moment. Severus's lips curled very slightly upward, if one were to look closely, then he paused. "What do you mean, nearly every Slytherin Night?"

The first years had taken Ginny Weasley under their wing, and after several moments she'd finally begun to relax. In fact, after ducking away to the toilet for a long while, she'd come back with a strange, self-assured look on her face, seeming far more confident than Harry had ever seen her. Harry watched as she asked the first years loads of questions about Slytherin, and about Professor Snape.

George, meanwhile, was far more quiet, simply sitting back and observing. Every so often, he'd ask Lucian or Reggie a polite question about themselves, which they'd answer, and ask one of George as well. Then they'd fall silent again until the pattern repeated itself.

"I'm telling you," Draco hissed in Harry's ear, expression still dark. "Something was funny about that knife. Don't you think so?"

"All right," Harry said. "So you've said. If you really think someone hexed it, why don't you go to Professor Snape? He'll listen."

Draco opened his mouth to reply, then closed it as he stared in the direction of the stone entrance, which had just grinded its way open. Draco's eyes widened, his expression going slack, then Harry turned his own head to see who had arrived.

"Oh," he whispered, though no sound came from his lips. "Oh."

"I hear you met Miss Greybourne's parents recently," Severus said, polishing off his third cup of tea.

Higgs nodded, partway through his own. "They invited us for lunch in Hogsmeade, sir."

"And?"

"And..." Higgs grinned sheepishly. "Well, it went about the way I thought it would, sir. It was excruciating. They're like my parents. They didn't support the Dark Lord, but they think he had a few good points that everyone ignores because of, you know, all the murder and torture."

"Ah, yes. The few good points of an extremist."

"I was polite, sir," Higgs said. "And they were polite to me. But it was... it was awkward. There's a stain on me, you know, with those types of families. Because I more or less told my parents to sod off." He paused. "Sorry, sir."

Severus waved a hand at the language. "That stain isn't nearly as big as you think it is, Higgs. And it will lessen in time, as your generation grows older and sheds such ideals."

"Will it, sir? There are still people like them. Just look at Marcus Flint." Higgs shook his head. "And I was almost like him, too. I only changed because of you, sir. I wouldn't have done it on my own."

"No one becomes who they are on their own. I may have provided a look at an alternate path, but you're the one who made the ultimate decision to take it. So have many others who grew up alongside you." Severus paused. "Though I will acknowledge you were a particularly difficult case."

Higgs let out a low chuckle, then grew serious once more. "I want so much, sir."

"Of course you do. You're a Slytherin." Severus thought this over, then corrected himself, "You're a human."

A knock at the door made them both jump. Severus rose to his feet and crossed the study. "This is what we get for ignoring the little beasts for too long. I imagine they've managed to set the common room on fire, or perhaps flooded it?"

Before Higgs could answer, Severus opened the door, revealing Potter and Malfoy, both of whom were exceedingly pale.

"What?" he asked, ushering them inside. "What's happened now?"

Potter glanced at Malfoy, who didn't respond, before saying, "Draco's father is in the common room, sir."