1 Nov 1991, Friday
Severus shouldn't have been caught off guard but he had been somewhat distracted. He had overheard James Potter asking 'his only friend' Lily to Hogsmeade for the weekend. Although his and Lily's friendship had ended last year, it still hurt, every single day, to see her with Potter; their heads close as they spoke of things only to be heard between them.
The assignment had been to turn beetles into jeweled brooches and before he could dodge the prank, Black had sent a dozen of the beetles like a small army to swarm over his boots and ankles. The beetles were Scarabs and they 'bit' but with their pincer-like mandibles. It was painful and Severus reacted instinctively by aiming his wand at Black and Blasting him with a mild Blasting Hex. It was Potter who countered with a Skin Rash Jinx that had Severus itching like mad. That gave Black the opportunity to ready himself with a Blasting Hex, but McGonagall had intervened.
It was little consolation to Severus that they all lost points and all received detention.
Detention with McGonagall hadn't been terrible and thankfully he had not had to share it with Potter or Black. He did get a lecture and knew that the older woman, once more, was disappointed with him, and then she set an essay for him.
Now released, Severus needed a walk before dinner. The air outside the castle was bracing, welcoming, and he strode with confidence through the lowering shadows on the grounds. He was making his way to the Standing Stones when he saw three, familiar figures running across the grounds. They were headed towards the vicious tree known as the Whomping Willow. His curiosity piqued, Severus silently went after them. They were obviously up to something and he meant to discover what it was.
Snape twisted helplessly in his bed. The blankets and sheets trapped him as he was captured within the nightmare of the past. He tried to call out to his younger self, to stop him, but it came out as an anguished whimper.
The rat, Peter Pettigrew had disappeared somewhere, but Severus didn't really care about him. Potter and Black had vanished into a hole in the tangle of roots beneath the Whomping Willow. Something had stopped its wavering branches and he had to admit he was a bit disappointed in not witnessing either boy getting thrashed by the evil tree. A creak of branches warned him that it was about to start moving again, and so he sprinted. Severus reached the dark hole just as a branch of the Whomping Willow swished behind him, just missing him.
Diving into the hole, Severus could not see and tripped over a root. He was sent rolling down further into the depths and was chagrined to find himself at the feet of Sirius Black. He couldn't see Potter and wondered if he was hiding in the shadows.
"Snivelly Snivellus!" crowed Black. "Are you here to see the djinn, too?" He snickered at some private joke as Severus scrambled to his feet and stepped away from the black haired boy.
"What djinn?" he demanded.
Black's eyes glittered with conspiratorial glee, "They say that a trapped djinn lies ahead in the tunnel, dung head. Whoever releases it gets whatever they wish!"
Severus' eyes narrowed. A small, deep down part of him was excited by the legend of a trapped genie, but on the surface, it was Black relating the tale and the young 6th year Slytherin knew better than to trust anything that idiot Gryffindor told him.
"You're lying, Black," snarled Severus.
"So what if I am?" Black replied snootily and glanced vainly at his fingernails. "Go away then. I'll release the djinn and all my wishes'll come true!"
Severus was about to turn away, but a deep, low howl of pain came from the furthest end of the tunnel. "What was that?" demanded the thin boy.
Black snickered, again, and whispered, "That's the djinn. Tell you what, Snivelly. I'm feeling generous, so why don't you go and free the genie?"
"Why would you offer that?" Severus asked, immediately suspicious.
"Well, I'm amazingly handsome so I've got everything I want, and you're not, you ugly, greasy-haired git," sniped Black.
Severus scowled at the little show-off. "You're scared of it," he declared.
Black frowned. "No I'm not!"
Making a sudden decision, Severus pushed past Black and went down into the tunnel. He cast Lumos so he could see.
The tunnel was treacherous with twisting tree roots on the ceiling, the walls, and the floor. In some places it was cramped, and he had to bend down so as not to hit his head. At other times the tunnel widened and here Severus would pause, waving the light on his wand about. He knew Potter was here. The moron was probably going to jump out and try and scare him.
A high-pitched, pained yowl, made the hair on the back of Severus' neck stand up, and for just a moment he questioned his foolishness for being in the dark tunnel. Something was trapped, though. And, it was in pain. Black thought it was funny and some stupid, Gryffindor adventure. Severus forged ahead. He wasn't thinking of releasing a genie for some gain; he was going to release the genie because it was hurting.
Finally at the end of the tunnel, Severus was puzzled by the appearance of a heavy door. Something heavy thumped against it. His knees shook, but he was going to show Black how brave he was. He lifted his wand and incanted, "Alohomora!"
Harry was asleep in his father's quarters, in his room. Snape had permitted it for the weekend since Draco had been allowed to sleep with his parents in the visitors quarters for the weekend. The Potions Master had given him just a small portion of Dreamless Sleep Potion and he would have slept just fine throughout the whole night, but something outside of dreamless sleep woke him.
Sitting up in bed, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and felt for his glasses on the narrow night table. Once they were on, he studied the shadows in his room. For a moment there was only silence. With a huff, Harry decided he'd go to the loo. He'd had two glasses of milk at dinner.
Leaving his bedroom, he quietly padded down the hall to the bathroom, slipped inside, and took care of his business. As he was leaving, he heard a mournful cry from his father's bedroom and he froze. Moving as quietly as possible, he placed his ear against his father's door.
"No! No no no!"
Harry gulped at the sound of such fear, such agony coming from his father's bedroom. His knees shook and a part of him wanted to run back to his bedroom and dive under the covers, but he couldn't. Hadn't the Dark Man held him when he had nightmares? Hadn't it been the Dark Man who rescued him from the awful Dursleys and then adopted him?
Putting his hand on the doorknob, he twisted it, and slowly pushed the door open.
Severus put his hand on the bent doorknob, and against everything that was inside him and telling him to run back down the tunnel, he ripped the door open.
AWWWROOOOOARRRRROOOOWWW!
The face of a thousand nightmares roared at the skinny 6th year student. Brown, filthy hair, wicked gold eyes, and jaws, open to show rows of sharp teeth glistening with hungry drool. And claws! Claws of some demon and they swiped at Severus. Something pushed him backwards where his head knocked viciously against a hard root.
"CLOSE SESAME!" The door slammed shut and the werewolf let out an angry howl just as Severus felt his wrist painfully grabbed by someone.
"C'mon Snape! That door isn't going to hold Remus forever and he's smelled you!"
His wrist still being held a strong survival instinct made him follow his rescuer without question. When he tripped over roots, he was dragged back to his feet, painfully. He only realised that his rescuer was James Potter when they burst forth from the hole and the tunnel vanished from around them.
"The tree!" shouted Severus as he pulled Potter to his side. A swiping branch just missed both boys. Another branch, though, was coming in the other direction and James pushed Severus so hard they were both rolling away from the Whomping Willow.
When they were out of danger, Potter, kneeling beside Severus who was on his back, leaned over him. "You all right, Snape?"
"No! I'm not all right, Potter!" he shouted. "That was... that was..." he couldn't say it. That was Lupin? And then, he heard the laughter behind him. He did his best to rise to his feet, but he was bloodied and bruised and he hurt terribly.
Black was laughing, belly-laughing, and pointing at Severus. "Look at Snivellus, James! He pissed himself! Baby!"
"Sirius! You idiot!" exploded James. "What did you do?"
Righteous and vicious anger boiled inside of Severus, and he strode forward two steps. He landed the hardest punch ever right into Black's face. There was a horrible crunch, of the Gryffindor boy's nose breaking, and a terrible spray of blood cascaded down his face. Black began to cry at the pain and Severus stomped away. The Headmaster had no choice but to expel Black now!
Harry slapped his hands over his ears as his father let out a terrified yell. The older man sat straight up, his wand, somehow in his hands, as he Blasted the doors off the wardrobe.
"Daddy!" shouted Harry. He was afraid, too, but he wasn't going to run away. "Daddy! It's me! Your Harry!"
Snape dropped his wand in shock as he looked down into the frightened face of his son. "Harry?"
The little boy nodded. "Are you... are you okay?" He asked tentatively.
Snape leaned over and drew Harry onto his lap and hugged him fiercely. Harry let out a yelp at the crushing embrace, but he wrapped his arms around his father's neck and hugged him right back.
"It's okay, Daddy," Harry's voice soothed softly into his ear. "I'm here. I'll take care of you." Harry did what his father sometimes did for him, and patted the older man's thin back. He kept talking softly, though his words had become soothing gibberish.
Snape's arms began to relax, but he wouldn't let go of his son. Harry wasn't going to let go, either. Closing his eyes, he buried his nose against his son's neck, smelling the aroma of shampoo, soap, and sleepy boy. After awhile he felt a tentative, gentle kiss upon his cheek and he pulled back slightly.
"Do you think you need some hot cocoa, Daddy?" Harry asked softly.
Snape kissed his child's forehead. "I think I do, Harry. Shall we go make some?"
"Yep." Harry slid out of his father's embrace and off the bed. He then grabbed his father's dressing gown and slippers, being careful to avoid the slivers of wood that had been the doors to the wardrobe. "Here. You go put these on, Dad. I need my robe and slippers, too." He started for the door, but stopped and turned slightly. "I'll be right back, okay?" He assured his father.
Snape couldn't help the warmth that blossomed in his heart at his small son's compassion towards him. "I'll be all right, Harry," He smiled wanly and removed himself from his bed as his son darted out of the door. He put on his dressing gown and his slippers, and then retrieved his wand from the tangled sheets. The wizard scowled at his damaged wardrobe. A Reparo had it back in perfect order, but a shudder wracked his frame as he realised that the door could have been his son. Swiftly, he left behind his bedroom and the nightmare of the past.
Snape's nightmare had awakened Harry and his father about an hour before sunrise. Together they sat at the enchanted window in the living room and watched the sun slowly move up over the horizon to splash its golden light over the fresh snowfall that covered the Quidditch pitch.
Snape had turned the sofa to face the window and then he and his son sat together upon it, each sipping their cocoa.
"Dad?" Harry asked softly. Somehow, this early in the morning, it felt right to talk in gentle whispers.
"Yes, Harry?" Snape replied, his voice just as hushed.
"Did you... uhm... want to talk about your nightmare?" Harry wasn't really sure he wanted to hear about what could scare his father, but Snape always asked him about his nightmares, and although he didn't always want to talk about them, it did, somehow, make him feel better afterwards. He figured he ought to offer his father the same solace.
Snape gave his young son a slight smile. He knew just what Harry was offering and he was touched by it. However, he was hardly going to go into detail about his nightmare, which still sickened him. Possibly worse now that he was an adult and could see the events, and what came after the attack, from an adult perspective.
The Potions Master draped an arm over Harry's shoulder and he sighed as the child's warmth snuggled against his side. A part of him wistfully wished he had known about Harry when he'd been much younger. He knew that these hugs, the quiet moments of comfort, or just company, would vanish as quickly as they had come. Harry would be "too old" for such affection, and Snape would miss it. What a sentimental, old fool he was becoming.
"Was it really bad?" Harry asked when his father hadn't replied to him.
"It was something from the past," Snape said with some little hesitation. Harry looked up at his father earnestly. The trust and concern in those emerald green eyes kept him talking. "When I was sixteen, my sixth year at Hogwarts, something... frightened me... terribly."
"The monster?" Harry asked worriedly.
"No. Not him. There was a monster, though." Snape swallowed stiffly. He wished he could better explain the past to his son, but he had never wanted to explain it to himself. He'd been nearly killed by a werewolf; Remus Lupin. Sirius Black had not only set him up, he had never apologised, nor, as far as Snape knew, ever regretted what he'd done. And Potter, James bloody Potter had saved his miserable neck!
As terrifying as the past had been, and the nightmare was a rude reminder, what had pained Snape the most had been the Headmaster's blithe reaction. Then, and he supposed, even now. How could Dumbledore hire the wizard who starred in some of his worst nightmares?
Snape pushed all of that away, shutting the bitter memories behind his Occlumens as tightly as he possibly could. He then vanished his empty cup of hot chocolate, slouched down on the sofa, and drew his son closer to him. Leaning his cheek upon Harry's crown, nothing more was said between father and son. It was balm enough to watch the sunrise, in the quiet morning, as somewhere a song bird sang to itself.
1 Nov 1991, Friday - Later that morning
As Snape ascended the moving spiral steps up to the Headmaster's office, he was startled to encounter a rather irate Remus Lupin pushing past him. Snape watched the wizard disappear before turning back to the antechamber that led into the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore was at his desk, but his head was cradled in his arms. "Really, Severus, if you have come to yell at me, I am not in the mood for it." The Headmaster's voice was woefully muffled.
"You summoned me, Headmaster, with some urgency, I might add," he reminded Dumbledore.
"Yes, yes, I did. Sit down if you would, Severus." The old man pinched the bridge of his nose as he waved at one of his office chairs.
Snape did so wondering what had gone on before with Remus Lupin that had so worn out the older wizard that he visibly showed a vulnerability he usually kept to himself. "Headmaster?" he inquired allowing a strain of his curiosity to be detected.
Dumbledore lifted his head and smiled. It was a poor imitation of those generally supercilious smiles that so annoyed the Potions Master. His spectacles were not on his face, making the old man appear even older.
"Why was Lupin angry?" Snape demanded perspicaciously.
Dumbledore sighed and picked a sherbet lemon out of a nearby tin. He then put his spectacles back on. "A simple difference of opinion, my boy."
Snape knew he would get no more from the Headmaster so he decided to change tactics and to go with his original intent for this visit. "You do realise that if parents, or the Board discovers Lupin's little secret, he will be sacked at once."
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "Is it your intention to say something, Severus?"
Snape snorted caustically. "The sheer number of Howlers from parents would utterly bury Hogwarts. I believe I would rather avoid that."
"Excellent!" clapped the Headmaster, and Snape wondered at the older man's remarkable recovery. "Then you have no problem in making Remus the Wolfsbane."
"I have no choice, you mean," Snape replied flatly.
"Severus, you always have a choice," the Headmaster declared brightly.
Snape glowered knowing how false that declaration was when it concerned Albus Dumbledore. "I will not pay for the ingredients out of my own pocket and the time taken in brewing will be added to those of my teaching hours and House duties."
"Understood, my boy." Dumbledore rummaged through the myriad of paperwork on his desk and pulled out a parchment that he handed to the Potions Master. "A voucher for the year," he explained briefly. "Your may contract with whomever you deem is the best apothecary."
Snape glanced down at the parchment before naming an apothecary that was not only expensive, but exclusive in regards to who they dealt with, and would have ingredients unparalleled by any other apothecary. "D'Lisle of France?" Snape posited.
Dumbledore's face lost just a touch of colour, but his need of the werewolf was clearly shown as he nodded, "It is your choice, Severus."
Snape rose, and smoothly paced away from the desk towards the door, but then stopped. "My... reservations aside, Headmaster, whyever did you hire Lupin?"
Dumbledore steepled his thin fingers, tapping them lightly together. "Did you know that Remus had been living in the Muggle world, Severus? Rather unusual for a werewolf. I had thought he would find others of his kind, such as many do, and integrate himself with a pack." The Headmaster let out a sigh and shook his head.
Snape sneered, but it was without an appropriate amount of malice, "Lupin had a pack. They are either dead, or wishing for death under the cold touch of the Dementors." The Potions Master grimaced as his thoughts briefly touched upon Sirius Black, now in Azkaban where he long ago deserved to be put.
Dumbledore smiled, but Snape thought it was somewhat bittersweet, "Quite so, my boy, quite so."
"Why did he not stay in the Muggle world?" asked Snape, silently wondering how the wizard had dealt with his monthly, furry little problem amongst the Muggles.
"He was a tutor for the children of a minor political liaison that worked for the London Ministry and our Ministry. He was no longer needed as the children were grown so he was available for our needs." Dumbledore rose, walked over to Fawkes, his Phoenix, and stroked the fine, magical bird's crest. "Remus was thought well enough it seems..." Plucking a book from a nearby shelf, he opened it and spoke without looking up. "The liaison referred Lupin to the Board of Governors."
The Headmaster turned his back to his Potions professor. Snape, feeling that the meeting was concluded when the Headmaster remained silent, went to the door of the office and placed his hand upon the ornate handle. He froze as the Headmaster's voice reached him.
"Remus wants to meet with Harry, Severus."
"No." Snape pushed through the door, shut it abruptly, and swept down the spiral staircase.
After classes that evening while most were at dinner Snape had retreated to his office with the migraine that had begun after his meeting with the Headmaster. He sat at his desk bent over with his forehead cradled in his hands as the pain throbbed.
A memo had summoned him just after the morning meal. Still feeling the shadows of his nightmare haunting his actions he decided that no matter what the Headmaster wanted he would let the old man know just how indignant he was that Lupin was on staff. Not just in one position, but three! It didn't matter to him that Lupin might be qualified, it just annoyed him that the Board of Governors had no idea of what they had allowed into Hogwarts. Lupin had never registered as a werewolf with the Ministry because it was Dumbledore who had kept the wizard's true nature hidden; from students and staff. There was now, only himself, the Headmaster, and the imprisoned Sirius Black who knew that Lupin was a werewolf.
Snape's thoughts then drifted to when the Headmaster had told Snape that Lupin had been living in the Muggle world. That was unusual for a werewolf since there was that sticky monthly problem when the full moon would change an ordinary wizard into a maddened beast.
How had Lupin managed in the Muggle world? Snape asked himself.
Just as he was about to give in to his migraine and Summon a potion there came a knock on his corridor door. He cast a silent spell that let him know just who was outside his quarters. He glowered when his visitor was identified by glowing letters in the door itself.
"Come!" Snape ordered. His office door was opened slowly. Lifting his head from his hands, and his pain, he demanded, "What do you want?"
Lupin smiled gently at the angry, dark man standing in the doorway. "I need to speak with you, Severus, and I think that it would be unwise to do so in the corridor."
When no offer was made towards him to seat himself Remus took a good look around at the Potions Master's quarters and noted a hand-drawn picture on the wall by Snape's grading desk, and a book upon the sofa: The Old Man and the Sea. His wolf senses also picked up a familiar scent, one that was oddly clouded by the scent that was distinctly that of Snape.
"Severus," Lupin began.
"I have not given you leave to use my given name, Lupin," Snape ground out. "To you, I am Professor Snape."
Lupin did not argue, but nodded. "Professor Snape, then. I was told by Albus that you will be supplying me with Wolfsbane. I wanted to thank you for brewing it for me."
"I do not wish to expose my son to the danger of a beast," he replied blithely.
"I would never hurt Harry!" Lupin declared hotly.
"Once a month you lose control of yourself to the mind of a ravening beast, Lupin," Snape's voice cut across the other man's assertion. "You would see my son as a mere snack, just as you would any of the children or staff here so do not try and tell me that you have any sort of control without the potion I will be brewing for you!"
Lupin hung his head in defeat and Snape glared darkly at the wizard. "You are fortunate that I happen to have some on hand for the 21st of this month," he said off-handedly. "However, it is more than three months old, so it may not be as effective as you wish. I suggest you hide in your old haunt that night."
Lupin visibly blanched at Snape's accusatory tone and acidic smirk. The werewolf closed his eyes, as if in pain, as he recalled their sixth year. Drawing in a deep breath, he replied, "I must agree, Professor Snape. It will be the safest place for me."
"If you do not mind, I believe that I will add my own wards that will strengthen the rotting timbers of that shack." Snape pushed away from his desk and strode over to his small library of books as if to show Lupin that he was busy. He selected one, and began flipping through it. "Your gratitude is noted, Lupin," he dismissed.
"Sev... er, Professor, I also wanted to speak to you about Harry," Remus made no move to leave. Snape turned abruptly, the book in his hand forgotten. Snape's eyes narrowed sharply in warning towards the werewolf. Remus persisted, "I'd like to visit with Harry. I would like for him to know that I was a friend of his father."
Snape's eyebrow rose. "What? No mention of Lily? Were you not her friend as well?"
Remus' cheeks darkened and his gaze skittered away from Snape as he replied, "No. I wasn't."
"What?" Snape frowned since he had not expected such an answer.
"I don't know if you recall, Se... I mean, Professor, that the Marauders sort of disbanded after the... the uhm..."
"The time you nearly killed me?" Snape finished for Lupin bluntly.
Snape took grim pleasure in the fact that the werewolf had the decency to appear embarrassed. Remus completed what he'd meant to say. "Yes. After that I quit hanging around Sirius, James, and Peter." Remus finally rose from his seat, and walked to the door. He opened the door. "Severus, will you allow me to visit with Harry?" He asked.
"I cannot keep my son from attending the Defence Against the Dark Arts class," Snape bit out. "I can, however, prevent you any other contact with him." Moving menacingly towards the indignant wizard, Lupin backed up out into the corridor. Without another word, the door slammed shut in his face.
-Remus Lupin's Office-
Deputy Headmaster Remus Lupin was nearly buried up to his neck in parchment in the Deputy's office; a tower that was connected to Dumbledore's office by a password protected bridge that stretched between the two towers. Just beneath this office was a spiral staircase that led into Lupin's quarters; four rooms that were a sitting room, a study, a bedroom, and a kitchenette. His office as Head of Gryffindor House was in the same wing as Gryffindor tower was, but Lupin had not yet visited it.
When Lupin had arrived on the evening of Halloween, he had been ready to take on the mantle of Hogwarts new deputy. He had not been prepared to take on the duties of the Head of Gryffindor, nor to substitute for the currently ill Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. To say that he was annoyed, would be stating his current circumstances mildly. He was incensed. With Dumbledore.
Of course, his anger with Dumbledore didn't matter with how his emotions had been so riled up by that stick-in-the-mud Severus Snape. Lupin would not deny that the man had every right to dislike him, but the dislike had turned to pure, unreasonable, hatred. He would see Harry in class and in the Great Hall for meals, but he Snape had denied him the visit he so desired.
A stack of parchment on the left side of his desk toppled over and slid across his workspace. Lupin glared at the new mess, not yet realising that the quill he'd just been holding had been shoved out of his hand and was now dripping on several letters. It took him a moment to discover his quill was misplaced and when he found it the letters were a mess. He cursed fluently in Old Latin and Evanesco'd the blotchy ink spill away.
He was sorely missing life with the Muggles.
2 Nov 1991, Saturday
Snape was not pleased to see the werewolf by his chair at the staff table as he walked in for breakfast. He resisted the urge to turn and walk right back out. He hated the wizard, but he would not dare show that dislike in public. Firming his perpetual morning scowl, he took his seat at the staff table.
"Good morning, Professor Snape," came the genial voice of Remus Lupin.
Snape grunted a reply as his breakfast popped into existence before him. After several minutes, Lupin spoke up.
"Is it possible that you're staying over the holidays, Professor Snape?" he asked as he began to section his grapefruit.
Snape gave him a glance over his Daily Prophet that had arrived with the morning Owl mail. "Why are you asking, Lupin?" Snape asked flatly.
"Well, Minerva tells me that you assisted during the holidays and summer with the paperwork when she was Deputy. I was hoping..."
Snape interrupted curtly, "This will be Harry's first Christmas with me so I will not be available. You will have to ask someone else." He snapped his paper and went back to hiding behind it.
Lupin sighed with a slight touch of frustration.
-Defence Against the Dark Arts-
The first year Slytherins and Gryffindors filed into the DADA room, found their seats, and then settled curious gazes upon their substitute teacher, the new Deputy and Head of Gryffindor House.
The Gryffindors eyes Lupin critically since they had yet to meet him formally. There were a few whispers that none of the students knew the werewolf could hear with his keen hearing. Most of the comments were uncomplimentary and tended towards criticism of his appearance (his finances were slim so he'd had to purchase teaching robes second hand and they were several years out of date), and speculation as to why he had yet to visit the Gryffindor common room.
On the Slytherin side the students merely watched him, their eyes rather feral and even a bit unnerving for a werewolf to be placed under. As Lupin looked over his students his gaze fell upon Harry, the son of James Potter. He was a bit curious as to why Harry wasn't quite the carbon copy of James in looks as he had expected. In fact, the boy looked a great deal like Snape and Lupin frowned as he wondered if it was true that Snape truly was the boy's biological father.
Lupin really had never gotten to know Lily Evans, but she had always seemed a decent sort. It had bothered him when she had turned her back on her childhood friend, Snape, after he had called her Mudblood in front of the Marauders. His curious nature had him ask her one night, as everyone was gathered in the Gryffindor common room, why Lily no longer hung around Snape any longer. Those two had been inseparable since arriving as first years and there were many who joked that Lily and Severus were joined at the hips. The red-haired girl had told Lupin in rather scorching words to mind his own business, and so he did.
Putting aside those thoughts, he introduced himself to his students then began the lesson which was a review of all they had learned so far. As he discovered after his first three classes of the day, there had been few practicals, endless lectures that rarely had anything to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts. Lastly, there had been no tests of any kind. It was a dismal curriculum and apparently there was nothing to be done about it due to the CURSE.
Nearly everyone in the wizarding world knew about the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. It had been there when Lupin was a student, and since there had yet to be a teacher that lasted more than a year in the position, it was still, firmly, in place.
Lupin had also been able to review some of the past instructors of DADA and they had honestly been witches and wizards whose qualifications, skills in teaching, and dealing with students continued to decline with each year. Quirinus Quirrell did have an impressive resume, but beyond DADA theory, Professor Quirrell had not taught his students anything.
Since the new Deputy Headmaster had no idea for how long he'd be a substitute, he had continued with Quirrell's curriculum, delivering dry, boring lectures that nearly put him to sleep!
When class was over, Lupin had the brief temptation to hold Harry back so he could speak to him, but he chose to abide by Snape's wishes. He hoped that before the end of the term he might be able to visit properly with Harry; even if that meant Snape would be looming over them like the protective bat he was.
-Saturday Afternoon, The Deputy Headmaster's Office-
"Oh Circe's garters! This is ridiculous!" Minerva walked into Lupin's Deputy office, pushing aside a stack of red enveloped Howlers that were stewing just to the right of the office door. Parchment and envelopes and scrolls hung over shelves and literally appeared to have buried the Deputy Headmaster and his desk. "That old fool hasn't done a lick of paperwork since I left the position, has he?" The older witch clucked her tongue and demanded as she carefully stepped over some books that had fallen out of their stack and were now strewn across the floor.
"I do believe that Albus just shut the door and ignored it all," sighed Lupin. He dropped his quill into the inkwell, stood up, and then took out his wand. He cleared a chair for Minerva by levitating several scrolls over to another chair brimming with official looking envelopes.
"Thank you, Remus," Minerva gave the younger wizard a tight smile and then seated herself. "Why did you ask for me?"
"I tried to speak to Severus as you suggested but he made it clear that he would be busy celebrating the holidays with Harry," replied Lupin.
Minerva appeared annoyed at this. "He knows the procedure and he's familiar with all of this." She then glanced over at the stack of Howlers worriedly. "Severus also knows a spell for Howlers that will prevent them from spewing their vitriol."
Lupin sat back down at his desk and slumped into his chair. "I've spoken to the other staff members..." he shook his head. "Hooch was ready to hit me with that broom of hers." He sighed heavily. "Honestly, Minerva, I think I can see why Albus didn't approach anyone else for this job." He smirked tiredly. "They would have drawn and quartered him."
Out of the corner of her eye Minerva saw a stack of parchment on one of the over-filled bookshelves start to slide off. Quickly taking out her wand she cast a Sticking Charm that kept the stack in place. Tucking her wand back into her sleeve she spoke with regret, "I wish that I could help you, Remus, but I am barred from anything that hasn't to do with my teaching. I'm afraid that Severus is your only hope."
Snape was just about to begin his nightly rounds for his day of the week when he was startled by the arrival in his quarters of a wolf patronus. The silvered, ghostly animal stood before his corridor door blocking his way of leaving. He could not help a sneering snarl at the animal.
"Professor Snape, would you see me in my office as soon as your rounds are complete? Thank you. Deputy Headmaster Remus Lupin."
The wolf blinked out of existence as Lupin's message was delivered. With an audible 'harumph' Snape swept out of his quarters, annoyed that he had no choice but to heed the Deputy Headmaster's official summons.
3 Nov 1991, 1:30am
Snape made his way to the Deputy's tower office after his rounds of the castle at half after one in the morning. For a moment he really didn't expect to find the werewolf still working until he saw the state of the circular office. It looked as though someone had gone into a parchment stationery store and hit the interior with a dozen Blasting Spells. What was worse was that a large group of obnoxious and very loud Howlers had the werewolf surrounded. Lupin was spinning around amongst them blowing individual Howlers apart with a Shredding Charm.
The Potions Master smirked and leaned in the doorway as he watched two Howlers sneaking up behind the Deputy. Just as he shredded one Howler the two behind him snapped at his backside. He let out a rather feral yelp, spun, and slipped on several scrolls. He was thrown to his back and in frustration he let out a string of curses in Old Latin, "sicut ad infernum foeda diabolis sulphure!"
"My sentiments exactly, Lupin," he intoned from the doorway. Standing up straight, Snape whipped out his wand and intoned, "Exsisto quietis!" Silence suddenly reigned as every Howler was quietened. With an overly aggrieved sigh he walked over to Lupin and jerked him to his feet. The moment the Deputy was on his feet, Snape walked over to Lupin's desk, kicking a few Howlers out of his way.
"You are attempting to answer correspondence before you have even organised this mess?" Snape inquired scathingly.
"It seemed rather important to do so," Lupin confessed quietly as he settled his robes better about his shoulders after his fall.
Lupin's jaw dropped as Snape and his wand began to ruthlessly deal with the paperwork, the envelopes, scrolls, and the Howlers. In about fifteen minutes the clutter was gone and there were several dozen stacks all over the office.
Snape sheathed his wand and pointed at the largest stack. "All of that goes directly to the Headmaster. Wizengamot correspondence, missives from the Minister, anything from the Board of Governors that is not also addressed to the Deputy." He turned and pointed to a stack of scrolls. "Ministry official documents that you are to review are addressed to the Deputy. Sort them by what you consider most important." He then turned to the Howlers. "Disgruntled parents that tend to address them to the offending teacher. Disarm the Howlers and send them to Dumbledore. It is he who needs to read them and to address the problems within."
"I'm afraid I don't know how to disarm a Howler, Sev... I mean, Professor Snape," interjected Lupin.
Snape scowled briefly at Lupin's habit of partially saying his name before correcting himself. "Finite Invectio. It will disarm the Howler so that it will neither explode, nor shout at you to gain attention. This way you will be able to gather them for end of the day delivery to the Headmaster, the Head of House, or one of the teachers. Under no circumstances is Filch to ever receive a Howler."
"Filch gets Howlers?" Remus asked in awe.
"Filch is a cantankerous bastard with a cat. He dislikes the students because they are generally bullying towards him," Snape glowered tightly. "There are times when a student will enlist the help of a parent to bedevil him."
"Parum daemonia," sighed Remus. "I will deduct points if I catch that."
Snape was slightly taken aback. "Will you truly, Lupin?"
"Despite our history, Professor Snape, I disapprove of such hateful pranks," replied Remus as he examined a group of scrolls from the Ministry. "A loss of points is the least I can do." Three Howlers chose that moment to bump sharply into his back. Remus turned on them. "Finite Invectio?" he inquired of Snape. The dark clad wizard nodded once. Remus cast the spell and the Howlers, along with their fellows, all fell to the ground. "I take it the Howlers are generally from parents."
"Indeed. When one of their precious little ones are wronged, a parent would rather yell before dealing with the situation like a civilised witch or wizard. Be careful of Molly Weasley's Howlers. She has been known to inject a Slapping Charm into hers." Snape had obviously opened one or two of Molly's Howlers and had been caught by the Slapping Charm as he briefly rubbed his cheek in remembrance.
Lupin, catching the gesture, smiled, but swallowed his laughter. He hadn't expected help from the Potions Master, and since no one else had volunteered to assist in the colossal mess, he dared not do anything to dissuade Snape's... generosity. Of course, the consummate Gryffindor that he was, he did just that.
"I'm very grateful for your help, Severus..." Lupin stopped his apology right there as Snape glowered darkly and a stack of parchment he'd been moving across the room fell to the floor.
Snape brushed past the Deputy and to the door. "I have a test to prepare for my O. classes tomorrow." With that he swept out of Lupin's office, the door slamming shut in his wake.
Lupin sighed but then with a wry smile he began to look over all the other piles that had remained. He was soon able to work a bit more efficiently on the correspondence and by the time he went to bed at three in the morning, he had forwarded at least a quarter of the paperwork to the Headmaster.
For the next three, very late nights, while Snape still had Night Duty, upon ending his rounds, the Potions Master would end them at the Deputy Headmaster's tower office. Once there he would take either a stack of scrolls or parchments, and further organise them for Lupin to deal with. By the end of the third night, Lupin's bookshelves were cleared, except for books, and the floor was safe to traverse. A charmed filing cabinet of stained pine sorted all incoming correspondence and Lupin had mastered the spell that disarmed Howlers. The Deputy Headmaster learned his lesson and did not further thank the Potions Master, but he did send a small box of coffee flavoured chocolate (non-alcoholic) liqueurs to Snape.
Oddly, Snape did not throw them out, but generously shared them with Harry, Draco, and Hermione.
7 Nov 1991, Thursday
Harry waved his wand over the tea cozy he was to turn into a silver teapot. For awhile the tea cozy just kept drooping over on its side. After fifteen minutes it shimmered and changed: it was now a bright, lemon-green Bakelite teapot. McGonagall drifted by and scowled down at the Bakelite teapot.
"Concentrate on what you are Transfiguring the tea cozy into, Mr. Snape." She tapped the mis-transfigured teapot with her wand and it returned to the drooping tea cozy. "Again."
The professor went over to marvel at Hermione's beautiful silver teapot. All that was wrong with hers was that it was solid silver. McGonagall tapped her teapot and the Slytherin girl was back to her tea cozy.
Harry slumped slightly across his desk. His elbow was perched on the right edge and he dropped his head into his hand as he glared at the stupid tea cozy. He smacked the tea cozy with his wand, crushing it to the desk.
"That won't work," quipped Draco with a light snicker.
"This is dumb!" hissed Harry to his friend.
"No it isn't," replied Draco. "Think how wicked it will be when you can change stuff into whatever you want."
Harry frowned. "I don't want to do that now."
Her tea cozy in hand, Hermione had moved from her desk and sat down by Harry. She whispered, "If you don't get this, Harry, we won't be able to work on the..." she looked about quickly for their professor and found that her back was turned as she fixed Lavender Brown's mess that looked like a prickly, silver, tea cozy. "The project."
"We haven't even started that, Hermione," whispered Draco across Harry. He had been let in on the secret two days ago. At first he'd been upset that he hadn't been told at all, but then he had gotten over it, and was starting to read the book Hermione had found in the library about Animagus Transformations.
"Well, no," she agreed. "I mean, we haven't done the exercises, yet, but we do have to get better in Transfiguration. That means all three of us need to work on our concentration and visualisation."
"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Snape!" harrumphed McGonagall. "Five points each from Slytherin for talking in class. Now, get back to work."
The three Slytherins groaned in unison. "Snape's going to kill us!" moaned Draco.
Harry nodded. He wondered if his father might give him a detention for having lost their House fifteen points.
That evening at dinner in the Great Hall Snape glanced between the heavy strands of his hair at Remus Lupin. The wizard had been almost a week in his three jobs and the Potions professor was of the opinion that the werewolf would expire from exhaustion by the end of term. Lupin was nearly falling asleep into his leek soup. An elbow to the man's arm from Hooch had him jerking awake.
"It's ridiculous!" muttered Minerva in a harsh whisper.
Snape turned towards his colleague. "What are you referring to, Minerva?"
"Albus has done the same thing to poor Remus that he did to me when I accepted both the Deputy position, and the Head of Gryffindor House." She tsked and drank a few spoonfuls of her soup.
Snape glanced once more at Lupin who appeared to be trying to listen to Hooch rail on about something to do with professional Quidditch, but his eyes kept fluttering. "I was under the impression that Lupin was rather content with both positions," he commented blandly. "Are you saying he is not?"
Minerva lowered her voice and leaned closer to Snape. "Remus was employed by Lord Quincey Mortimer. As soon as Lord Mortimer heard of my resignation, he petitioned the Board to give the position to Remus." Quickly she glanced daggers over at Dumbledore who was sharing a joke with Filius Flitwick. Her gaze returned to Snape. "Albus confided to me that no one else applied and that he specifically asked that the Board approve Remus' appointment."
Snape frowned. It was clear to him that as far as the Deputy duties, Lupin wouldn't last. As much as it was an administration position, it was also political, and required a certain amount of social grace that Snape didn't believe the werewolf possessed.
"Lupin was foolish to have applied for the Head of Gryffindor position," observed Snape.
Minerva snorted softly as her sneer took on a bite that had always unnerved Snape. The witch had quickly aimed that sneer at Dumbledore, who caught it, and froze like a unicorn caught in fairy lights. As soon as Minerva looked back to Snape, the Headmaster glanced briefly at his Potions professor, before slowly, and cautiously, looking away.
"Tell me, Minerva," Snape cajoled simply.
Minerva replied swiftly, "Remus didn't apply for the job of Head of Gryffindor. Irma Pince was prepared to take over as Head until the position could be circulated and applications could be received."
Snape nodded in suspicious understanding. "There was no empty position to be advertised when Lupin arrived to take over the Deputy position on the same day you received your notification from the Board."
Now, Snape felt he had some idea of what had angered the werewolf the morning he had nearly collided with the wizard on the Headmaster's spiral staircase. Had Lupin any idea he would be saddled with two jobs?
The Potions Master didn't bother to hide his staring this time as he glared down the table at Lupin. He was not surprised to discover that the man, was now, quite asleep.
8 Nov 1991, Friday
"The Cerberus must be guarding something," Hermione declared as she loaded her fork with cubes of fruit.
Draco frowned at the girl, and Harry looked up from his porridge.
Hermione glanced at both boys with exasperation. "Well surely he isn't up there for fun, is he? Something that dangerous has to be there for a reason. So, what could that reason be?"
Harry had never told his friends about the weird story the Headmaster had told him. Especially after his father had heard him being told. He was curious, but was it really his business? Dumbledore seemed to think it was up to Harry to protect it, but why would he want to protect some stupid stone? What if he might get hurt? Or, his friends? He certainly needed no reason to get hurt and getting Draco and Hermione hurt after what had happened at the Ministry, well, he really didn't need to bring them anymore trouble. So, he ignored Hermione's curiosity and worked on finishing his porridge.
Draco was a bit more interested. And, he had a theory, too. He leaned a bit closer to Hermione and whispered, "Maybe it's protecting something that someone wants."
Harry wanted to kick Draco when Hermione beamed. She nodded, her bushy curls bobbing round her head. "I think so, too!"
Harry huffed, "So what if it is, Hermione? That doesn't really matter to us, does it?"
Hermione's enthusiasm deflated with Harry's sharp tone. Even so, she still spoke her mind, "Maybe not, but aren't you curious, Harry? Honestly, if the Headmaster didn't want someone to be curious about what's forbidden, why did he even mention it? When I was in Gryffindor, everyone was talking about it. The twins were even thinking of going on an expedition just so they could see what was up there." She tapped the last piece of fruit in her bowl guiltily. "I wonder if I should have told them about the Cerberus." She looked up at her friends. "I mean, what if they get hurt?"
"Who is going to get hurt?" asked Fred.
"Are you little'uns up to something?" asked George with a mischievous smile on his face.
"No," Harry said with a tone of finality.
"We were..." glances from Harry and Draco told Hermione to keep quiet or she was on her own. The two boys really liked the twins, but Slytherins knew, if you had secrets, it was wise to keep them close.
Hermione, who hadn't quite understood that lesson, trusted Fred and George implicitly. Hence, she saw no reason to keep the knowledge she had from them now. "There's a Cerberus in the Forbidden Corridor and I think it's protecting something."
The twins eyes both lit up in anticipation of an adventure and Harry, soon realising that such an adventure would only stir up trouble, broke down, and told them, in a harsh whisper, "Not here!"
Up at the staff table, Snape watched as the Silver Trio left the Great Hall with the two, identical, older Gryffindors. Breakfast had at least another half hour before it was over and he really did not care for his Snakes to leave early. It was better to read, to prepare for the day's classes.
Listening to long old senses, he felt that trouble was afoot. Dabbing his lips with his napkin, he left quietly through the narrow door that led into the staff lounge behind the staff table. From there, he took a hidden corridor towards the front of the Great Hall. He emerged just as he saw a tuft of red hair vanish into the entrance that led to the dungeons.
Harry led his friends down into the dungeons until they came to an abandoned classroom. Once he was sure they were alone he began to tell his story.
No one saw the slight shadow that was darker than the shades around it.
"Well, you remember when I was in hospital after that fit I had in DADA?" They all nodded. The twins hadn't been there, but after such an incident everyone had heard about it by the end of the day. Harry continued as he told them about the Headmaster's weird visit and the story about the Philosopher's Stone.
"I think it's dumb that Dumbledore brought it here," declared Harry with a cross look upon his face.
Draco nodded, "Who brings something like that into a school with a bunch of kids?"
Fred nodded sagely, but George piped up, "I bet a Death Eater might want it."
"The monster?" asked Harry as he wrapped his arms around himself.
Fred shook his head, "Death Eaters were the elite followers of You-Know-Who. Most of the worst are in Azkaban, but there were some that escaped."
George glanced at Draco and Draco glared at the older boy. "Don't you say it! My papa's a good man!"
Both George and Fred held up their hands in a placating gesture. George apologised, "We know your dad's okay, Draco."
Fred smirked, "No Death Eater in his right mind would put up with a bunch of kids that wanted to play Little League Quidditch."
Everyone laughed and Draco relaxed, smiling just a bit. Fred patted Draco's shoulder. "Forge and I know, Short Dragon, your dad was never as bad as they paint." Draco looked up at Fred Weasley, somewhat puzzled. He didn't understand what the third year was hinting at but at the moment he was just content that the twins didn't think the worst of his father.
George studied Harry and the boy, suddenly conscious of the older boy's gaze, shifted uneasily. "Harry? What happened to you at the Ministry?"
Harry looked up. Well, it was a valid question. Although he didn't really want to talk about it, no one had really told him he couldn't. He just hadn't planned to. Looking at George, though, he thought that since the boy was older than him, maybe he knew something that Harry didn't. And, since Harry did trust the twins, maybe it would be all right to tell them? He glanced quickly and Hermione and Draco and they each nodded almost imperceptibly. Harry began telling the story of their day in the Ministry. Anywhere he had gaps was added to by Draco or Hermione.
"You-Know-Who?" asked Fred.
"The monster," said Harry decisively.
Fred and George gave Harry a curious look. Hermione elaborated, "That's what Harry's calling You-Know-Who."
George's eyebrows rose, "Is that who hurt you and Draco in the Department of Mysteries?"
Draco nodded quickly, "Yeah. He was going to kill us."
"That's impossible," said Fred gently. "Harry killed You-Know-Who when he was a baby."
Harry snarled, "I did not! That's stupid! It was my mum's magic that protected me and this isn't some stupid curse mark that dumb ol' monster left on me!" Harry tapped his scar.
Fred and George stared at him. "But everyone says it's a curse scar," said Fred.
George finished, "Left by You-Know-Who when he cast the Killing Curse in an attempt to kill you."
"Well it's not!" Harry ground out stubbornly.
Fred and George glanced at each other. Hermione spoke up in Harry's defence, "Professor Snape has told me a couple of times that reading isn't the end of all knowledge and basing your beliefs on a story that was splashed all over the wizarding world by the Daily Prophet and then just repeated everywhere else, including history books, well, that's just ridiculous."
Draco nodded, "My father once told my mother that if the monster had been strong enough to leave a curse mark on a baby, he would have been able to kill that baby. I think Harry's mum's magic makes a whole lot more sense." Draco looked at the scar just as his friend was going to brush his long fringe over it. Hermione stopped the motion. "My father knows a lot about Rune Magic and that's not some lightning bolt like everyone says. That's a rune."
Fred leaned close, whispering under his breath, "Sorry, Harry. Do you mind?"
Harry sucked in his breath as he realised Fred was going to touch the scar. He shook his head. Fred very lightly traced his finger over the scar. At the end of the trace, there was a very tiny spark.
"Ow!" yipped Harry. "What did you do?" He brushed his fringe over the scar protectively as he glowered at the older boy.
George smiled, "It's harmless, Harry. Fred here has an interesting talent."
"George has one, too!" Fred laughed.
"What talent?" asked Draco as his eyes darted between the twins.
George elaborated, "Fred here can feel Light Magic. Me, I can feel Dark Magic."
Draco's eyes sparkled in wonder. "That's wicked!"
"That's creepy!" declared Hermione.
"Wicked creepy!" chorused the twins.
"So what does that mean?" asked Harry as he envisioned the twins going around touching everything in sight.
"Well, we don't just run around touching everything like a couple of goobs," said George.
"We don't really have to," agreed Fred. "It's a sense. Like taste, touch, smell, or sight is."
"Then why did you have to touch my scar?" asked Harry sullenly.
Fred replied, "I just wanted to be sure, Harry. Sometimes touch is the best way." He smiled disarmingly at the three Slytherins. "If that were a curse scar, that tiny spark would have been something worse."
George explained further, "The Dark Magic would have sensed an unknown, possibly harmful presence, and would have thrown Fred back."
"Like a Repulsion Spell," said Hermione nodding in understanding. Fred and George also nodded.
"So, what was that spark?" asked Harry. "That sort of..." he frowned, trying now to recall the sensation. "Okay, well, it didn't hurt, but it did feel sort of tingly. I wasn't expecting it, I guess."
"I think that's just your mum's magic, Harry," said Fred.
Harry smiled warily. "So, it really is good?"
George stepped closer to Harry and held his hand up. "I can make sure, Harry," George said gently.
Harry hesitated then moved aside his long fringe and then closed his eyes. He felt the light touch of George's fingertip as it traced his scar. It tickled a bit, but no more than it did so when he touched it himself. When the touch was gone, he opened his eyes and let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His green eyes sparkled as he grinned at George.
"All is well, Harry," George declared, returning the small boy's relieved smile.
Something tall, and dark, that blended perfectly within the shadows of the classroom also smiled in relief.
"Wait," said Draco recalling what Fred had said to him a few minutes before about his father. "You know my papa is good because�"
"The Quidditch Little League tryouts," smiled Fred. "I had a suspicion all ready since your dad volunteered to coach the teams but when he shook my hand, I knew for certain."
Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Harry thumped his back.
"That's really good, Harry, and for your father, Draco," said Hermione, "But doesn't that mean the monster is still going to want the Philosopher's Stone?" She used Harry's word for Voldemort finding that made more sense to say than You-Know-Who.
George leaned back against the wall not realising how close he was to the shadows. "If You-Know... I mean, the monster, is really just a spirit now, and can maybe possess people? Well, who's to say he isn't hitching a ride on someone already in the school?"
"Is that possible?" asked Draco, slightly spooked.
It was Harry who replied firmly, "Yeah. I think he has, too. And, I think he's been killing unicorns and Centaurs."
Of course, the twins didn't know about Harry's visions, or the troubles in the Forbidden Forest. Unfortunately, there wasn't time for that explanation as it was time for class.
"Let's talk after lunch," determined George.
"Stay together," Fred suddenly cautioned the Silver Trio.
They were about to go their separate ways, when Draco grasped Fred's sleeve. "Hey, have you found out, yet, who pranked the sweets bowl on Halloween, yet?"
Fred shook his head and George answered, "We know it's not a Gryff, Draco."
"But we have a good idea who it is," replied Fred. "We need a bit more evidence and then we'll let McGonagall know."
"C'mon! We'll all be late and I know I don't want to be late for Snape's Potions class!" George laughed and they all streamed out of the empty classroom.
Snape slipped from the shadows. He needed to get to his third years Potions class and to find a way to give points to a couple of Gryffindors.
"I think we ought to find it before You-Know... I mean, the monster does," Fred said to the small group of himself, his brother George, and the Silver Trio. They were back in the empty classroom, but they had brought their lunch there to finish.
Draco snorted, "Gryffindors and their adventures!"
George shrugged, conceding that the boy was right. "Maybe, but wouldn't you rather have the Stone than him?"
Harry huffed. "Snape already told me to just forget about it. Why can't Dumbledore take care of it?"
It was Hermione who replied, "Because it was him that told you that you have to protect it."
"Harry," said Fred, "what if the Headmaster is testing you?"
Harry's jaw dropped right before he took a bite of his sandwich. "Why would he do that?"
"You're the Boy-Who-Lived," said George as though that explained it all.
Harry groaned. "That's stupid, stupid, stupid, and dumb. And I really hate that people call me that. I lived because of my mum, not because I had some great powers or whatever."
Hermione, playing devil's advocate, brought up what no one had mentioned, "According to the wizarding world, You... the monster is dead. It doesn't matter if Harry is the Boy-Who-Lived. He's known by everyone as the Baby-That-Killed-You-Know-Who." Harry glared at Hermione. "I'm sorry, Harry, but that's the truth. As far as anyone is concerned, the monster's dead."
Harry poked a finger into the bread of his sandwich somewhat savagely. "I s'pose, but I know he isn't."
"So do I," agreed Draco. "I think my father and Professor Snape know the same thing."
Fred nodded, "So then that means that's what the Headmaster thinks."
Harry shrugged. "So?"
"So," finished George, "Dumbles must have some knowledge that you have the power to get rid of the bad wizard."
Fred added, "Therefore, he's testing you... or rather, he's testing your powers."
Harry pushed his sandwich away angrily. "I don't have any powers! I didn't even know I was a wizard until I got my letter!" He slammed his back against the chair he was sitting in. "I'm not even doing that great in all my classes." He sniffled back an angry tear.
George, who was careful not to take Harry by surprise, sat down by the upset boy and nudged him lightly with his shoulder. He and Fred had learned not to touch Harry unless he invited it. "Listen, little Snake, me and Fred," he looked up at Harry's Slytherin friends, "and Draco and Hermione, aren't going to let you do this by yourself."
Fred seated himself on the other side of Harry, "We just think it would be safer if we found the Stone before the monster can."
Harry sighed, "Wouldn't it be better to figure out who the monster is?"
George nodded, "We could do that, too."
Hermione spoke up, "I already think it's Professor Quirrell." All four boys stared at the girl for an explanation. "Well, Harry had that fit in his class, and then he kept getting those headaches."
"And Quirrell doesn't like Harry," added Draco. "He keeps using Harry as a test subject."
"And the Quidditch game!" exclaimed Hermione. Harry and Draco nodded sagely, but Fred and George did not know what had made Harry lose control. "When Harry's broom went wonky, I saw Professor Snape staring at him, really hard, and his lips were moving. I read that there are some incantations that have to be repeated over and over and if you're casting them on someone, you have to keep your eye on them." She suddenly flushed in embarrassment. Hermione glanced apologetically at Harry. "I know I should have known better, Harry, but it was a good thing I was suspicious because once I snuck over to the teacher's stand, I could hear Professor Quirrell chanting. And, it wasn't Latin." She shuddered. "It was sort of creepy, and angry, and very old sounding."
Fred nudged George and they both chuckled in sudden understanding. "So that's why you lost us 100 points, Hermione!" crowed Fred.
George was gasping with laughter, "You set Quirrell's robes on fire to stop his chanting!"
Fred asked, "How come you didn't tell anyone?"
Hermione's gaze hardened, "I wasn't going to. Professor McGonagall had already blamed me for everyone in Gryffindor not liking me so I just didn't think she'd listen to me. But then, Professor Snape had me talk to him, and I told him."
"You did?" asked Harry.
"I was sure he'd listen, Harry, and he did." Hermione did not mention that she had also told Snape about the headaches and continuing nightmares of his son.
Draco sort of half sneered, "Yeah, but did he do anything to Quirrell?"
"I... don't think so, but maybe he did and we just don't know it," Hermione suggested.
"Oh," said Draco somewhat mollified. He knew that Professor Snape took care of problems and since he was a Slytherin, it really wasn't something he advertised to the world so it made sense to him.
George spoke up, "Well, you've made a rather good case for Quirrell being You-Know-Who, Hermione." She beamed at the twin.
"Too true," agreed Fred, "but what do we do now?"
"Get the Stone?" asked Draco.
"Maybe," said George, his lips pursed thinly in thought.
"Or maybe we should go see Quirrell," said Fred thoughtfully.
Harry frowned. "Why? He's sick, isn't he?"
George bent toward the smaller first years, "Rumor is that he collapsed on the same day you and Draco were hurt at the Ministry, Harry."
Harry's eyes widened, as did Draco's and Hermione's. Hermione asked softly, "What does that mean?"
"Well," said Fred, "let's look at all we know about Quirrell. He doesn't like Harry. Harry had a really bad fit in his class, and Harry gets headaches that make his scar hurt, right?"
Harry rubbed at his scar as he nodded, "Yeah. You know, that fit I had?" The twins nodded. "Well, Dad thinks it was a vision, sort of. I heard the monster's voice in my head and I think a part of him was kind of living there... no, trapped, I think. But, I wonder if the monster got in Quirrell, too. If maybe the professor let him in." Harry shuddered as he recalled the visions of the unicorns being killed, and the Centaurs. He had remembered them as though there were a second person... enjoying... the murder and he had thought that was him. Maybe it wasn't.
George tapped his lower lip with his index finger. "You said you threw the monster out of your head when you were in the Ministry, Harry?"
Harry nodded. "I had to get rid of him because he was going to hurt... uhm... kill Draco and I was thinking how Draco was my first real friend and I wasn't going to let anyone hurt him..." he paused, not wanting to further embarrass Draco with his mushiness. "...not even me."
"I was really scared, Harry," Draco said softly. "I knew it wasn't you and I kept hoping that you'd come back and help me."
Harry continued as he smiled at Draco, "Dad said I threw the monster out with a Patronus."
Fred and George were awed and suitably impressed. "You cast a Patronus, Harry?" exclaimed Fred.
"A fawn. Dad said it was sitting beside me with its head on my leg," Harry nodded.
"I saw it," said Draco firmly. "It came out of Harry like this huge piece of silvery mist and it was chasing something that just looked... ugh, sick," Draco shuddered at the memory. "I think that's when I blacked out."
George saw that Draco was ashamed for having passed out and not having been brave and he patted the boy's back. "You were really smart, Draco. You didn't run away or try to hex Harry."
Fred smiled, "Rather brave, I think."
"Don't call me a Gryffindor!" snapped Draco, but he smirked, taking the sting out of the rebuke.
George leaned back in his chair. "Well, I think Harry's Patronus must have messed up Quirrell. I think we need to find out if the monster is still in Quirrell or not."
Hermione piped up, "And then we need to tell someone."
"Dad," Harry declared.
"Yeah, Professor Snape," agreed Draco.
"No," said Hermione stopping all conversation. "I think we should talk to Professor Snape, first. Even if Professor Quirrell is sick, it might be too dangerous to go near him." There were solemn nods all around her. It was Fred who saw her studious frown.
"What are you thinking of, Bookworm?" he called her affectionately.
"Well, I guess because I'm Muggle-born I don't understand how ghosts and spirits work, but I have to wonder just how You-Know-Who accomplished this. I mean, his body was destroyed, wasn't it?" Hermione asked.
George nodded, "That's what they say, but we really can't say for certain."
Hermione huffed, "So, his body may be out there, maybe sort of wrecked, and his spirit is running around possessing people?"
Draco sighed, "Seems like it."
Fred spoke uneasily, "Ah, Draco, do you know if your father was there...?"
Draco snapped angrily, standing up, his hands on his hips, "No he wasn't! And neither was Professor Snape! They never wanted to be Death Eaters! It was my grandfather and he was evil, and dark, and as bad as they come and he almost ruined everything! My papa is a good man, so don't you go saying he isn't, Weasel!"
Fred smiled and George raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, cool down, Short Dragon. Forge didn't mean to imply that, did you Forge?"
"No, Short Dragon," Fred smiled again. "I know your papa is a good man and I know he didn't have any choice. He was protecting you, right?"
"And my mother," said Draco with a scowl. His anger was cooling, but slowly.
"So, I think what Forge meant," said George, "was that your father might have been there, even if he didn't want to be."
Draco shrugged and plopped down in his chair.
"Look," said Hermione speaking up, "there are just some things we can't assume. We really need to talk to Professor Snape. And, I'll do some reading up on ghosts and spirits. It might help us to understand better just what this thing is that was in Harry's head, and also, maybe, possessed our teacher."
That evening, instead of studying in their little study room in Snape's office, the twins, Hermione, Draco, and Harry spoke to Snape about their theories, especially about Quirrell. Snape was fascinated by the talent exhibited by Fred and George. He bared his left forearm to test if the darkness in the Mark could be detected.
For a long moment, the students all stared at the Dark Mark on Snape's inner forearm. It was somewhat faded but the darkened, abused skin was raised everywhere the tattoo was imprinted on the skin. The skull and snake was fearsome enough on its own, but Harry gulped worriedly as he watched as the Dark Mark slowly seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Harry's hand reached out and gripped a portion of the man's teaching robes.
"The monster did that to you?" Harry asked in a near strangled whisper.
"The monster did this to all of his followers, Harry," Snape replied flatly. "We took it willingly as it could not be forced upon us." Harry's gaze locked with that of his father's and for an agonising moment Snape felt dread that his son would reject him.
Harry's hand stretched out until he grasped his father's hand in reassurance. "You regretted what you did."
Snape leaned forward, and touched his forehead to his son's. "I made a foolish decision because I was desperate to be accepted, Harry. I have regretted that vile night ever since. Do you forgive me?"
Harry whispered, "I love you, Dad." He slipped his arms over his father's neck. Into his ear he breathed, "I forgive you."
Snape drew his son into his arms and for a timeless moment he forgot that anyone else was around them.
"Professor," intruded George carefully. "Would you let me touch your Dark Mark?"
Snape let go of Harry who moved to stand beside him. The Potions Master then held out his forearm.
Fred wisely backed away from the Mark whereas George stepped a bit closer. Snape watched the boy's eyes as George Weasley raised his hand over the Mark. He took in a deep breath and then very lightly touched his fingertips to the Dark Mark.
The boy's eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled back in his head. His freckled, warm-toned skin flushed and then became ashen coloured. Before Snape could yank his arm away, George pulled his hand back.
"He hurts," George said through clacking teeth.
Snape quickly covered up the Dark Mark and then Summoned a Calming Potion. George drank it and dropped back onto the chair that was nearby. George took a few deep breaths as the potion warmed him from the inside and calmed down his jangling nerves.
Snape moved around his desk, grabbed a chair, and sat down upon it to sit in front of the one-half of the Weasley twins. He leaned forward slightly. "Mr. Weasley, what did you mean by, 'he hurts'?"
George drew in a longer breath that shuddered as it crossed his lips. "Vol... You-Know-Who, Professor. I can feel..." he shook his head. After a minute he raised it. "Through your Dark Mark, it's as though I could feel... him and he's in a lot of pain. He blames..." George whipped his gaze to Harry and the boy backed up, treading upon Fred's instep. Fred caught the small boy and steadied him.
"He blames my son," Snape repeated carefully. George nodded. Snape saw that the Weasley boy's hands were trembling in his lap. The Potions Master stretched out his hand and placed it over the smaller, fine hands. "What else did you sense, Mr. Weasley?"
"Hate. Not just for Harry, but everything, Professor. It was... it's disgusting." He removed his hands from Snape's, stood up, and paced in a small circle.
Harry shook away from Fred, "Does that mean my Dad is evil?"
George stopped his pacing and looked down at the little Slytherin. "Harry, I..."
Fred interrupted, "No, Harry, he isn't." Snape eyed Fred Weasley skeptically. The third year met his gaze, and smiled. "In my first year I nearly made a really bad mess when I almost tossed a handful of nosegay into Pepper-Up Potion."
Snape frowned and commented wryly, "Yes, that would have easily sent my classroom down about two more floors."
"Well, sir, you grabbed my wrist," Fred chuckled softly. "That's when I knew. You might show us a rather... uhm... not so nice side, but I knew you were okay. You weren't ever going to hurt any of us."
Snape's eyebrows rose fractionally, "This is what a simple touch showed you, Mr. Weasley?"
Fred nodded. "I knew about the Dark Mark because my dad told us all about the trials, but both he and mum have told us that you're a good man." He shrugged affably. "After you grabbed my wrist, I knew for sure that they were right."
Harry smiled his relief. He knew the Dark Man was good, but it did help that others knew he was good, too.
"Sir, what do we do about You-Know-Who?" asked Hermione.
"You are children. You will do nothing about You-Know-Who," Snape replied firmly.
"But he wants the Stone!" exclaimed Draco. "And if he gets it, then he'll go after Harry and..."
Harry added, "We gotta do something, Dad!"
Snape towered over them all. "No. You do not. I mean it. This is a situation for adults and we will take care of it. If you learn something else," he glanced pointedly at Harry who had obviously not told his friends about his nightmares, "then I expect you to come to me and tell me about it. Is that understood?" His gaze swept over them all. One by one they nodded, and quietly said, 'yes, sir.'
Snape ushered everyone out, except for Harry who paused in the doorway.
"Dad?"
The Potions Master looked down at his favourite Snake, his son. "Yes, Harry?"
"The Stone. The Headmaster told me I was supposed to protect it." He glanced worriedly up at his father. "They all think it's a test."
Snape placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Harry, you listen to me, and ignore the Headmaster. I do not believe he has your best interests at heart." He then knelt down and placed his hands around his son's upper arms. "I will never test you, or judge you. You are my son and no one can say otherwise."
Harry grinned and quickly hugged his father. He whispered into his ear, "I love you, too, Dad."
As Harry ran after his friends and towards the Slytherin common room, he rose and straightened. A very brief, and satisfied smile touched his lips.
Just before curfew, Hermione slipped out of the Slytherin common room and made her way to the library. She really needed to do some research on ghosts and spirits.
Update 5/2015
