13 Jan 1992 - Monday, 10pm: Curfew

Fred and George Weasley had a secret. A map they had found one day when serving a particularly nasty detention with Argus Filch. They had gone through the Squibs filing cabinets when Filch had taken a moment away from the detention and George had come across an envelope signed by the Deputy Headmaster Remus Lupin. On the outside of the envelope was a charge to Filch to file away the envelope, and to forget it. Within the envelope was a blank many-folded piece of parchment that spoke at once to the twins.

Worthy successors! the curly writing wrote. It continued to write, You must be up to no good. If you are, say so, tap the parchment, and all your mischief will be managed.

It was not long before the twins deciphered the magic, and they discovered that the Map was a marvelous creation that showed nearly every room and corridor of Hogwarts castle. It also showed every person within the walls of Hogwarts, or on the grounds.

They were soon to discover that some places did not show on the map.

The twins arrived at Professor Snape's office just as curfew intoned solemnly through the castle. Ten of the clock and every student who obeyed these rules were in their common rooms, or in bed, fast asleep.

The professor, appearing to be a man consumed by a secret, merely crooked his index finger at the Weasley boys, and marched down into the depths of the dungeons. Fred and George glanced at each other and traded identical grins before trotting after their teacher.

Teacher and student traveled for quite a distance, in silence. Snape did wonder at this. He had not glanced back, but knew the duo were following him and he wondered why they had not, yet, begun to pester him with questions.

As for Fred and George, they were full of questions, but both had the feeling that to indulge that side of their natures would not be welcome. As they paced downward into darker depths, George discovered that his standard Lumos spell was barely offering him any light worth remarking on.

It was then that Snape stopped, and rather abruptly. George walked into Fred who had just barely missed walking into the Head of Slytherin House.

"Sir?" they chorused.

Snape held his wand over the three of them. His Lumos, though quite bright, just managed to drift over the three of them in its glow. George chanced a worried glance at the surrounding darkness, and for a very brief moment he felt like a scared first year. Fred's hand found his brother's and gripped it tightly in reassurance.

"This is a secret I discovered in my third year," began Snape, his dark voice nearly swallowed by the darkness around them. "It is a secret I have jealously guarded since then, but beneath us is something I know that only the two of you can help me with."

"And it involves..." began George.

"That box..." said Fred, motioning his chin towards the box that Snape still held firmly in one hand.

George finished, "The Hourglass of Anubis."

"I ask for your Wand Oath to keep this secret to yourselves," before both Gryffindors could jump to agreement, he slashed his wand down between them. The shadows dancing on the angles of their Potions Master's face unnerved the twins. "Before that, I will repeat my warning in my office; should I have to, I will Obliviate you both. This is one time I must count on that Gryffindor bravery from you both." Snape regarded them closely, and watched as Fred and George looked at him for a moment, and then at each other.

Finally, with a sharp nod, Fred smiled, "We'll take a Wand Oath, Professor, and no matter what your secret holds, we will not run away."

Snape was astounded to hear a complete sentence from one of the twins without the other finishing it. George grinned, and added, "Ditto from me, sir."

With the Wand Oath sealed with their magic, Snape leaned a shoulder against what should have been a solid rock wall, spoke a very soft, and rather lengthy incantation in a language neither twin recognised, and then there were torches flickering to life down a well of a spiral staircase. Snape stepped onto the landing. Instead of heading down the stairs the Potions Master turned to face the twins.

"Much later exploration revealed an old, handwritten scroll that gave a name to these stairs - The Spiral of Merlyn. They are the gateway to a wonder of Hogwarts that I named the Dungeons Beneath the Dungeons. I have since protected this entrance with an old ward I discovered. Once I retire, or pass beyond the Veil, I remain the sole wizard to know of this." He leaned closer to the Weasley Twins. "If I do not have to Obliviate you then you may count the secrets of the Dungeons Beneath the Dungeons as yours to continue."

Fred and George were nearly holding their collective breaths in anticipation. Together they knew the gravity of this treasured secret that was unfolding before them. Neither spoke.

The Potions Master handed the box to Fred, and rummaged in his inner pocket for a phial of potion. He thumbed the cork off, and drank a measure. He then handed it to George. "Anti-Nausea Potion. The staircase is rather steep and dizzying. You will need this."

George drank a measure of the potion, then took the box from his brother and gave him the last third in the phial. When all three were properly dosed, Snape led the way down the stairs.

Despite the potion, both twins were ready to catch their breath when they finally reached the end of the stairway. Another phial of Anti-Nausea Potion, and the twins were ready to continue down the tunnel.

Fred and George Weasley kept quiet, as well as they could, as they moved down the long, and twisted corridor. A glance over his shoulder caused Snape to smirk as he saw how their faces reflected their shared desire to explore to their hearts content. Perhaps, he thought to himself, if all was successful he might invite them down here for just such an award.

The twins suddenly stopped as if frozen by an Ice Spell. "Fred!" gasped George, looking into one of the side rooms. "Are you seeing what I am seeing?"

"If I'm not," whispered Fred, "We're dreaming!"

Snape stopped behind the two students. He had rather a sense that as they came down this room would capture their attention.

Within were ingredients carefully shelved, catalogued, and preserved that only a Potions Master could dream of. When Snape had returned to Hogwarts in a teaching capacity, he had spent hours speaking to the castle for its aid in creating a new tunnel that led from this room to his private Potions lab. It was nearly a year before the castle had acquiesced to his request.

"Take a moment," Snape urged the two fascinated boys.

Whatever the twins flaws were as pranksters, Snape had to admit that they were highly intelligent when it came to Potions. And, creative, as well. Something he intended to foster.

The twins entered the large room and discovered that all the ingredients were rare, obscure items that a Potions Master could wait an entire lifetime to use once in their work. They were to discover that most of the ingredients were magical, and some had not been seen in centuries.

"Rabbit's feet?" asked George curiously as he peered at one large jar that held furred objects that did resemble rabbits feet.

"Too large," frowned Fred, as he peered at the jar.

"Jackalope feet," came Snape's voice crawling up beside them, and giving them a startle.

"We've never..." said Fred.

"Heard of a jackalope." George concluded.

"From North America. A hybrid of the jack rabbit, and the antelope. They were an experiment by a wizard of some Dark repute who created hybrids," explained Snape, his voice a soft, lecture. "History records that he paid for his misdeeds by being eaten by the only cockatrice ever created." The twins eyed each other curiously. Snape smirked smugly, "A hybrid of basilisk and rooster. When the cockatrice crowed triumphantly over its kill, it destroyed itself since the mortal enemy of a basilisk is the rooster."

Snape ushered the twins out of the distracting ingredients closet and continued to lead them through the tunnel. Fred finally asked, "Professor, we realise this is your secret to keep, but just what is this place?"

Snape enlightened them, "It was not until I returned as a teacher and renewed my explorations down here that I unearthed an explanation of what this was..."

Severus was thinking of disappearing in his tunnel. There was junk to be found, but there were so many other things to keep his attention that he felt he could spend an eternity in his tunnel. Dropping into an overly plush leather chair he had removed from a room full of furniture, he had taken it into this room he had slowly begun to set up as a study. There was a large desk filled with ink bottles, quills, and parchment that was finer than he had ever seen. And then, books. Some were his, but many had come from several different places in niches or rooms along the length of the tunnel.

Yes, he mused as he leaned his head back on one arm of the chair and kicked his skinny legs over the other arm. He could live here. That house elf that liked him would feed him, and he could forget about this Lord Voldemort that Lucius' father kept telling them about, and whom Severus was not all that eager to meet.

He opened the journal he had found that day near the end of the tunnel, and began to read.

"... the journal was one of several that had belonged to Salazar Slytherin. It did not mention this tunnel, but that particular journal detailed many of the journeys he had gone on in which he acquired many of the objects down here." Snape did not mention that the journal had also hinted at some live creature that Salazar had brought to live in another hidden chamber deep beneath the castle. He had, yet, to find anything else that would give him a clue as to what the creature had been (surely it was dead by now), and if this other chamber even existed.

After one more turn, the three finally came to their destination. Snape allowed the twins to enter the rune-carved chamber, and he watched silently as the two boys warily walked over to their old DADA professor.

"That's Quirrell," whispered George.

"He looks dead," concluded Fred.

"Rune magic," Snape said. His voice, although even, startled both young wizards. "It is all complex spells and wards that keep not only Quirrell's body asleep, but his mind, too." Snape stood over the absolutely still man, who was no longer covered by the horrible smelling purple turban. Using his hand, Snape carefully turned the comatose wizard's head so that part of his face was in the pillow, and the seemingly bald back of the man's head faced the twins.

Both Fred and George took a revolted step backwards. Fred actually had to turn away for a moment. "It's a face," whispered George. He was both fascinated, and repulsed by the abomination before him.

"Voldemort," Snape said simply as he left arm flinched when the Dark Mark twitched at the name.

Fred turned back. His freckles on his face stood out against his now sickly white pallor. "He's supposed to be dead."

With uncommon gentleness Snape re-positioned Quirrell's head so the face of Voldemort was now hidden. "Lily's magic protected Harry," began the Potions Master. "When the Dark Lord used the Killing Curse to try and kill them both, it unfortunately was successful with Lily, but her magic, an ancient Rune Magic of Protection, bounced the curse back to the Dark Lord, and thus disabled him to nearly the point of death."

A glance at the twins showed Snape that although they wanted to hear more, neither wanted to look upon the wizard in the bed while knowing what was hidden within him. The Potions professor ushered them out of the room and into an empty niche where there was a half-moon bench for the twins to sit upon. Snape remained standing.

"The Dark Lord's body was summarily destroyed which is why none of those searching for him could find him. His spirit survived, though, in a form that is known as a Fiend."

George's eyes flashed. "I know about those. Mum's friend, Granny Weatherwax told us a story about a Russian Fiend that ate children in order to prolong its life."

Fred nodded, "Oh yes, I remember that one, George. The witch that lived in a house on chicken feet." He shuddered.

George smirked, "That gave us both nightmares!"

"Mum hasn't had Granny Weatherwax over for a visit since then!" Fred chuckled.

"So Vol... uhm... it...?" asked George as his eyes went to the door of the now darkened chambered.

Fred finished, "You-Know-Who is a malevolent spirit inside our DADA teacher."

Snape nodded. "The Fiend had tried to manifest within Harry's nightmares, but the spirit of his mother kept the creature at bay. During their time at the Ministry, the Fiend was able to possess Harry, but his love for his friend, Draco, made it possible for his accidental magic to purge the Fiend, finally, from his body with the aid of a Patronus."

"Wicked!" breathed George and Fred together.

"Isn't that when Quirrell got sick?" asked Fred.

"It was," agreed Snape. "Somehow the backlash injured both Quirrell and the Dark Lord. It gave me the chance to keep the Fiend suppressed until I had prepared this chamber for them."

"That must have taken weeks, professor," commented George.

"I am not as skilled as I wish to be in the old magic of Runes and had to consult with a friend about what to precisely use. When I was ready, I then enlisted Madame Pomfrey's help to effect a plausible escape."

Fred's eyes widened in question, "Didn't the Headmaster help, Professor?"

The older wizard's eyes darkened with old anger. "The Headmaster is of the mistaken belief that the Dark Lord and Harry's destinies are intertwined by a Prophecy." He glowered. "It is vile enough that the Dark Lord also believed what little he knew of the Prophecy and used it to target Lily and James Potter, and Frank and Alice Longbottom."

"The Longbottoms?" asked George in disbelief.

"You-Know-Who put the Longbottoms in St. Mungo's?" asked Fred.

"Mr. Longbottom rarely speaks about his parents, but they were targeted, as well, by the Dark Lord. Harry and Neville were both born on the same day. It was Lily's protection that saved Harry, and a bumbling madwoman who forgot her first duty to her Dark Lord that saved Neville." Snape eyed the two young wizards as they looked at each other for a few moments.

"We never realised..." began Fred.

"That little Nev could also have been..." said George sadly.

"The Chosen One." Fred shook his head.

George looked up at their teacher. "They're just two little boys, Professor."

"That they are," Snape agreed. "That is why I do not want Harry, nor Neville, growing up with the idea that some Dark creature is after either one." He really hadn't thought of Neville Longbottom's role in this farce before, but now that Snape was considering it, and the fact that Longbottom was being raised by his 'Miss Haversham' of a grandmother... both boys deserved a childhood free of monsters.

"Will you feed Quirrell's soul to..." began George, now looking pointedly at the alabaster box his teacher still held.

Fred finished, "To that?"

Snape held out the box, and touched his fingertips to the lid. "I would prefer not to feed Quirrell's soul to this." He then levitated the box onto a nearby, empty shelf. "This is why I asked for the two of you to come down here."

The Potions Master led the twins back into the rune endowed chamber. "I have had a look into Quirrell's mind, and although I believe he was not entirely blameless in providing a host for the Dark Lord, I do think this was not what he had expected."

George bravely stepped a bit closer to the comatose wizard. "What was his mind like, Professor?"

"Raped," Snape declared abruptly. He then amended himself, "No. The damage is much worse than that. Quirrell has been tortured."

"What do you need from us, sir?" asked Fred.

"I need to know the degree of Darkness in Quirrell's soul. I need to know if he is worth saving." His dark gaze fell heavily on the prone man before them. "I would like to know if this is knowledge you can give to me."


Snape, who so far thought that his son was a good boy, and not a sneak like James once had been, did not know that as soon as Harry was back with Draco and Hermione, the quest for Animagi forms was back in their heads.

An inquisitive Hermione, who was looking for someplace within Slytherin House to be by herself, discovered a room behind the large bookcase in the common room. It was filled with sneeze-producing dust, and a few cobwebs, and after she had let the boys in on her secret, the Trio cleaned it, after curfew.

It only took a few days to clean and then they were able to gather together to study more about Animagi.

"I don't want to do this anymore," declared Draco sullenly as he pushed aside the book on his lap.

Harry was in the corner of the room, with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. His notes had been shoved aside earlier and were scattered on the floor in front of Hermione.

Hermione had the main book of Animagus study on her lap and her expression showed her exasperation with her friend, and her brother.

"It doesn't hurt us to keep studying, and to do the meditations, Draco," she argued.

"It's boring, 'Mione!" Draco pouted. "Besides, me an' Harry do meditation at night."

Hermione glanced up. She had never heard about this. The girl was about to ask why the boys were meditating at night, when, from the corner, Harry added in an almost growl, "I'm not gonna steal ingredients from dad."

"That's why it's boring!" shouted Draco, as he pointed at Harry, and began to pace.

"Draco!" chided Hermione. "We can't make Harry do what he doesn't want to do."

"Yeah, but you can make me feel bad about it," Harry countered Hermione's cool words with his own sarcasm aimed at her.

Hermione glared at Harry. "This isn't my fault, Harry! You were the one who wanted to do this!"

"I still do," he said a bit plaintively.

"Then get the ingredients, Harry," Draco urged. "We've got everything else. And 'Mione could brew the potion."

"Just because she's got the highest grade in class doesn't mean she can brew this, Draco," countered Harry. "You heard what dad said in class when he gave us that gross lecture on 'Mishaps of Brewing'."

All three grimaced identically.

"I couldn't eat lunch after that one," said Draco, his grimace still on his face as he leaned back against the wall, and then slid down against it to his haunches.

"Your father wouldn't smack you?" asked Hermione of Harry.

"What?" Harry stared incredulously at the girl.

"I mean," she said slowly, "Professor Snape's never smacked you, so if you took the ingredients, he would just yell, or make you do some cleaning of cauldrons, right?"

Harry scowled at his friend. "No! He wouldn't smack me, but dad would be so disappointed that he might just send me back to my aunt!"

"Snape won't do that!" Draco protested.

"Of course he wouldn't, Harry," said Hermione, appalled at her friend's skewed logic. She closed the book on her lap, stood, and went over to Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have pushed..."

"Well, you did!" he snapped, a fierce frown on his face. His arms were gripped around his waist. "You're as mean as that Ron Weasley, Hermione!"

"That's not fair!" she cried out.

Draco's head tipped sideways, as he mused, "He's kind of right, 'Mione." Hermione turned a stricken gaze upon the tow-headed boy. "I mean, I don't think you're as mean as dumb Ron, but you should have really backed off."

Hermione stepped into Draco's face. He scrambled up to his feet in an attempt to back away. It was no good. Her finger was waving in his face. "You were pushing, too, Draco! You're a spoilt brat!"

"What's that got to do with anything?" he asked hotly. "Wait! I am NOT spoiled! Anyway, if I am, so are you, 'Mione. You're my sister, now, and you're spoiled just like me!"

"You're both idiots," observed Harry, chuckling softly.

That defused the silly argument between the new siblings. Hermione picked up the Animagi book and hefted it in her arms. "I really am sorry, Harry. I was being pushy, and I shouldn't have just gone on like that."

Harry was looking down and watched as the toe of his boot scraped the floor. "S'okay, 'Mione. I just didn't think this Animagus stuff was going to be so hard."

"Yeah," agreed Draco. "I mean, can you imagine your first dad and his friends brewing this potion, Harry?"

"Yeah, I..." Harry bluntly cut off his sentence, and frowned sharply. "Dad, and even Professor Lupin said my first dad wasn't really good at Potions." His eyes blinked in thought several times. "Professor Lupin said that Sirius was terrible at everything because he hated homework."

"Harry?" asked Hermione. "What are you thinking?"

Harry grinned suddenly. "They couldn't have brewed that potion!" Both Hermione and Draco were puzzled. Look," he began to explain. "Professor Lupin told me that my first dad and his friends learned to become Animagi in their fifth year!" Harry looked at his friends as if they should understand.

Hermione did slowly understand, and she began to grin. "That potion is very advanced. I mean, beyond seventh year, I'd guess."

"I don't get it," glowered Draco.

"It means, silly, that if the Marauders couldn't brew the potion for Animagus change that they must have found another way to do it!" laughed Hermione.

Draco still had a sour look on his face, along with a scowl. "No it doesn't, Hermione. Maybe that's just when they started learning. Maybe it took forever." Draco was getting tired of all their Animagus talk. He was convinced it wasn't going to happen. "I'm going to bed."

"Draco!" Harry called after his best friend. The Malfoy boy ignored him and left the little hidden room.

"Harry," Hermione stopped her friend by touching his arm. "If the Marauders did this a different way, maybe you could ask Professor Lupin?" Harry smiled, but just a bit. Hermione's mouth quirked, just a bit. "Think that would be better than taking ingredients from your dad?"

"Yeah," sighed Harry in relief. "But, 'Mione, why'd you even suggest that? Stealing, I mean."

Hermione shrugged and pulled Harry to sit down beside her on the narrow chaise lounge they had found awhile back and smuggled into their hidey-hole.

"I wasn't thinking, Harry," she admitted. The girl then looked him carefully in his green eyes. "If I tell you something, you won't tell anyone else? Not even Draco?" Harry shook his head firmly. "Or, your dad?"

Harry knew the value of secrets, and although he didn't much care to keep secrets from his father, he did think that he had enough sense to know whether or not a secret should be told to him.

"I won't tell, 'Mione," he said solemnly.

"You remember I told you how my mum wouldn't get books for me?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. Then with a grin where his green eyes sparkled Harry added, "I thought it was really neat how you had all these great places to hide your books."

Hermione smiled, and her cheeks blushed. "Well, what I didn't tell you was that I stole a lot of those books. Mostly from the library, and a second-hand bookstore..." her blush deepened to a crimson shame, and Hermione's hands twined nervously together. "I just really wanted them, Harry. Mum wouldn't give me money for books, or anything that was really interesting, and I didn't have a choice!" Hermione glanced sideways to see if her friend was judging her in any way. Relieved that he wasn't, she continued, apologetically, "So, when we needed those ingredients, it just didn't occur to me that we shouldn't steal."

Harry leaned against Hermione's shoulder, and she let out a sigh as she leaned closer to her friend.


Draco lay in his bed, in the dark, a scowling pout upon his face. He really wanted to become an Animagus. He just knew he'd be something really neat, something fierce, maybe even a magical animal! He was upset that Harry would not get the ingredients they needed. His best friend had an annoying propensity for always being a good boy. Draco wondered, just for a bit, if Harry thought Professor Snape wasn't going to love him anymore if he broke the rules.

"I'm not perfect," Draco grumbled into his pillow as he turned on his side.

It wasn't something he would ever admit in public to anyone, since a Malfoy had a certain reputation to uphold, but Draco had broken more than his share of rules growing up, and although he always was soundly punished, his parents still loved him.

Getting in trouble is what boys did, Draco's thoughts continued. It was a right every little boy had; to mess up, to get in trouble, and then to get spanked, or yelled at, or made to stand in a corner.

A very poor decision, gleefully made, Draco scrambled from his bed, and was quickly dressed. He had slipped from the dorm before Harry had gotten to bed.

Visions of unicorns, dragons, and basilisks danced through the boy's head as he broke the wards that watched over wayward Slytherin wanderers.


Fred was seated on the left, and George was on the right side of the insensate Quirrell. Just as Snape was about to say something, his head whipped sideways, and he looked upwards toward the ceiling. He scowled angrily.

"Professor?" asked Fred.

George completed the question of concern, "Is everything all right?"

Snape's lips were pursed, but he turned his attention back to the twins. "It is well. What will you do?"

George explained, "Fred's going to look for Quirrell."

Snape frowned at George's unhelpful answer, but then Fred spoke, "George is here for backlash, Professor."

George smirked. "Gotta keep my brother safe, sir."

Snape gave them both a curt nod. He had his wand out, and began to speak in the language of the ancient runes. As soon as he began to move around the room, and touch each rune carved into the wall, Fred smiled at George, then leaned forward and laid one hand upon Quirrell's heart, the other on his forehead.

The result was immediate. Fred was thrown backwards, and out of his chair as the room rumbled ominously. George replaced his brother, his hands upon the heart, and forehead of the still comatose man. George's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes closed.

"Back. to. sleep. you. AUGH!" George shouted and was about to pull away when Fred literally threw himself across Quirrell, and shoved his hands upon his twin's head and heart. Once in contact, he pushed, and then rolled off of Quirrell.

"S'all right, professor!" gasped Fred with a grin.

Snape continued to chant his spell, but spared George a quick glance of concern. George heaved out a breath, then grinned at his teacher. "What Fred said, sir!"

The room rumbled feebly again, and Snape finished his chanting. He leaned against one wall feeling worn out. "Well?" he asked.

George had picked himself up from the floor where his twin had pushed him, and he walked over to the other side of the bed to give Fred a hand up. "Sugar?" he asked Fred, ignoring Snape.

"Sugar!" agreed Fred.

Snape pushed away from the wall. "We need tea."

Snape had escorted the twins to the more secure privacy of his quarters where they had tea. The Potions Master drank his bitter tea slowly, while Fred and George wolfed down the biscuits and both indulged in three cups of tea, overly sweetened, before either were ready to talk.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened, Misters Weasley?" asked Snape.

George began, "Old Voldy attacked Fred."

Fred nodded, "For a weak Fiend, he still has quite a punch." Fred smirked, and took another biscuit to nibble on.

Snape frowned, "What do you mean?"

George also took another biscuit, and then explained, "Voldy's weak, Professor. I don't know if it's from the spells and wards you have down there..."

Fred finished, "Or if it's because Quirrell's been fighting him."

"That's impossible!" scoffed Snape. "They both should be in a senseless coma!"

Fred shook his head. "It's close, Professor..." Fred closed his eyes for a moment.

Snape regarded the redhead and watched as the boy's colour, returned by the tea, fluctuated. He rose to his feet, held out his wand, and began to intone a complicated Diagnostic Spell. "Your magical core is severely exhausted," the Potions Master remarked with some surprise. "Accio Magical Energy Replenisher!" The requested potion arrived with alacrity, and Snape handed it over to Fred. "Eat a few more biscuits," he urged the both of them as Fred swallowed the potion down. "You should both sleep, as well." Their teacher began to rise to usher them out, but the twins each held up a hand, and he remained where he was.

George smiled, "We will, Professor Snape, but..."

Fred interrupted, "You had a question before, and we can answer that."


Draco realised the moment he had gotten several feet away from the Slytherin common room door that he really had no idea what he was doing. Although he was sure he could get into his Head of House's classroom, and maybe even into the classroom ingredients cabinet, there was no way to find the ingredients for the Animagus Potion there. They were far too expensive, and he doubted that with ingredients so costly, they would be allowed to be used by students.

Standing indecisively, he nearly let out a terrified screech as a hand touched his shoulder. Whirling around, he held out his wand in a steady hand at his attacker.

"Harry!" Draco shouted in some relief, and then frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't see you in our dorm, and I just had an idea that maybe you went to get those ingredients." Harry crossed his arms over his chest much like his father did and glared at the tow-headed boy.

Draco glowered, but cringed slightly at his friend's disapproval. "Well, we can't be Animaguses without those ingredients, Harry."

"None of us can brew that potion, Draco," snapped Harry.

"You're just being such a goody-goody!" shouted Draco. "Maybe you should have been a Gryffindor! I hate you!" Draco stomped away from his friend, his anger wrapped up tightly around him.

As for Harry, any annoyance he had at his friend, drained like water from a sieve at Draco's harsh words. He didn't care that he had been compared to a Gryffindor, but he didn't want Draco to hate him. A low, deep part of him began to panic. His face became splotchy with haphazard beads of sickly colour, his palms became like ice, and he broke into an uncertain run towards Draco.

"Draco?" Harry's voice trembled, but he let out a sigh of relief as the boy stopped walking away from him. "Do you... d'you really, uhm..." The sight of Draco's scowl, a vision of derision he remembered from those days when Dudley, his cousin, would peer at him with resentment, formed a lump of cold in his stomach. "C'mon!" Grabbing Draco's hand, Harry pulled his friend, with a near frantic run, to his father's office.


"The rune wards and spells are keeping Voldy in a weakened state," George elucidated.

Fred nodded, "But he isn't asleep."

"Neither is Quirrell," added George. Then he grinned. "That's a good thing, though, Professor."

"Where your wards have weakened Voldy, they've given Quirrell strength."

Snape looked appalled at the twins. "Quirrell has been aware all this time?"

The twins nodded in unison, then Fred spoke again, "Quirrell's been fighting, Professor, but he is getting weaker."

"Were you able to tell if Quirrell invited Voldemort to become a part of him?" asked Snape of both boys.

It was Fred who replied, "He was weak, sir." Fred lowered his head as tendrils of what he had felt of the wizard had embarrassed him for the man. "He was promised things by... by Voldy when he still let his followers call him Lord Voldemort. In return..." Fred shuddered.

George glanced sympathetically at his brother, "The best way to explain what Voldy did, sir, was that he opened a door in Quirrell's mind. Should anything ever happen to Voldy, Quirrell would be a vessel for him."

"But it went wrong," said Fred.

Snape frowned, as he speculated what could have gone wrong. As far as he had been able to tell with his Legilimens, it had become torture. Had it been that way from the beginning?

George continued to explain, "Voldy didn't mean to share Quirrell's body with him, but Quirrell, knowing that something was open within him for Voldy, had been searching for ways to close it. He was looking for a solution to... er..."

Fred picked up the thought, "To close the door, Professor. He found something but it didn't didn't quite close the door."

George sighed, "It's impossible for Voldy to completely get rid of Quirrell because he's been fighting to stay alive."

After several long minutes of quiet, and a not-so-subtle yawn from George, Snape dismissed the two boys, with a note that would excuse them from their first two classes of the day should they oversleep.


14 Jan 1992, Tuesday - Very Early

It was just nearing almost one in the morning as Snape ushered the twins out of his quarters, and left him to consider that evening. Just as he sat down with a bit of brandy in his hand, an internal alarm alerted him to the wards on his private lab being lowered. It was then that he recalled there had been an earlier alert that one of his Snakes had slipped past his minor wards for the Slytherin common room. Someone had sneaked out, after curfew, and it seemed that same someone was now breaking into his lab.

Putting down the brandy, he Summoned his teaching robes, threw them on, and strode into his bedroom. There, behind his wardrobe, was a hidden door that led into his private lab. This was an entrance that Harry did not know of. His son did know of the main door to his private lab in the office, and although that one was mostly hidden by shadow, and the stones of the wall, it wasn't a huge secret. Privileged students, including the Weasley twins, had the fortune of being invited to Snape's own lab, and had entered through the office entrance, so that meant the Potions Master really had no idea who could be breaking into his lab.


Harry had finesse, and he could sneak about with some skill learned, unfortunately, at the feet of his relatives. It was a survival trait he would never lose, but his anger, and annoyance with Draco had thrown any caution the first year would have employed in this reckless endeavor of stealing from his father, out the window.

Draco followed swiftly behind his friend, partly because his friend wouldn't let his hand go, and partly because this dashing about like hunted hares was rather exciting.

They had easily made it into the Potions Master's office because Harry's magical signature had been keyed to those wards a long time ago. Other students would be made to wait patiently in the corridor, while Harry was easily able to walk in.

Finding the door to his father's private lab was also easy for Harry, because when he had traversed the Dursley house and yard at night, he had always done so without the benefit of light.

Normally, Harry would not have been able to break through his father's wards on this lab. Even though there were students that knew of it, and had even worked in it, Snape did not believe it was a good idea to allow anyone within unless he was there. The wards would alert Snape that someone was trying to break in, and if a breach was managed, the Potions professor would quickly know of this, too.

An unknown aspect to that final ward was that any magical person that entered would have their magic suppressed for just enough time for Snape to gain the advantage of an opponent. The only one this ward did not work upon, was Dumbledore who could wipe the ward away like an irritating cobweb. Thankfully, the Headmaster had never felt the inclination to tread upon this part of his Potions Master's world.

Neither boy was aware that their magic had been strategically suppressed. The ingredients cabinet was not locked, and as a shadow, slightly darker than the others in the room, spied the two intruders, it would be doubly warded by morning.

Harry finally let go of Draco as they stepped into the large cabinet that was more like a walk-in closet. Shelf after shelf lined the walls, and every possible inch of space, with the exception of the back of the door. The ceiling stretched high above the small boys, who craned their necks to look up at the impossible reach. A floating, wooden ladder appeared to be the only access. Even though it stretched up into the darker depths of the cabinet, neither boy was willing to use it.

"It doesn't matter, Harry," Draco whispered into the gloom. He gulped as he felt his voice being swallowed by the darkness.

"I'm not going up that ladder," Harry hissed back stubbornly.

"We'll just Summon it," smiled the other boy.

"I haven't learned that one well enough, yet," Harry replied moodily. He squinted at some of the labels, but even with a rather well-developed night vision, his father's spiky scrawl was no better to read than a foreign language in the darkened cabinet.

Draco grinned in the darkness, and held out his hand. "Accio Chameleon Skin!"

A few jars wobbled a bit, but nothing else happened. Draco glowered. Harry quipped, "See? Yours isn't any better than mine."

"It is too!" snapped Draco indignantly. "My father taught me how to Summon stuff before I even got to Hogwarts! Accio Chameleon Skin... NOW!"

With a silent Lumos, the tip of Snape's wand was lit, revealing him in the doorway of the cabinet, and illuminating his interlopers. His voice was smooth as creamed coffee, "Now what would two first year Snakes need Chameleon Skin for, I wonder?" The gaze in their professor's eyes was hard, and thundered that they were both in trouble. Instinctively, Harry and Draco moved closely together. Their eyes were wide, and Harry was looking almost as pale as his friend.

Snape moved aside so he was no longer blocking the doorway, and pointed towards the lab. "Get. Out!"

The two Slytherins scrambled to obey, skimming past their Head of House without touching him. Once in the lab, Snape turned on the two boys angrily. Harry spoke up, "Dad! We..."

"Quiet, Mr. Snape!" Harry's mouth snapped shut, and his heart felt suddenly like lead in his chest. He was in so much trouble!

"Not only are you both out after curfew, but I find you both in my private lab and attempting to steal one of my rarest ingredients!" Snape's scowl now had a fire in it. With a wave of his wand, the torches in the lab whooshed to life, chasing away the shadows. "Sit," he ordered, "before I decide to make that impossible for you both."

Harry immediately plunked his seat obediently down onto a bench with a thump. His gaze never left sight of his father. Because of that, he didn't realise that Draco was still standing.

"You can't spank me, Professor! My papa would...!"

Snape loomed like a great, predatory bird over the small boy. His nose practically brushed Draco's pert, and perfectly formed, Malfoy nose. Draco backed up two steps until the bench smacked into the backs of his knees.

"Trust me, Mr. Malfoy, for stealing from my private stores, your papa would condone any punishment I chose to deliver. Now. Sit. Down." Draco's bottom plopped down onto the bench right beside Harry.

"Please don't spank Draco, Daddy!" Harry's voice was a hoarse whisper of fear as his great, green eyes deepened in colour; the small boy clutched his hands together.

Snape reached out for his son, but pulled quickly back as Harry flinched. The older wizard cursed silently at this reminder of the abuse Harry had suffered at the hands of his relatives. The child had been so carefree of late Snape nearly forgot he still had to tread carefully around his son; especially when it came to discipline.

Before Snape could say anything, Draco leaned in towards Harry and spoke in a whisper, that the Head of their House could hear, "Spankings aren't bad, Harry." The raven-haired boy whipped his head around so he was intently looking at his friend. "Honest. I haven't been spanked for ages, because papa says I'm too grown-up," Draco said a little haughtily.

"Doesn't it hurt?" asked Harry.

Draco nodded, "Well, yeah, but..." he leaned closer so their shoulders were touching, "but it's not a whole lot. Just kind of stings for awhile, and papa always gave me a hug afterwards."

Harry blinked, puzzled, and inquired, "Why's he hug you?"

"Well, 'cause that's the end of it all, and..."

Snape interrupted, "Because, Harry, a spanking is not a beating. It is a reminder not to do something bad, or dangerous, and you receive a hug afterwards to show that you are loved." Harry let out a slow breath of relief. His eyes were still wide, though. The professor's mien became stern as he loomed over the two boys, "I am not going to spank either of you, though." Since his son was about to question him again, in his worry, Snape declared the punishment, "You will each have detention this Saturday, and Sunday." Draco sputtered, and Snape held up his hand, "Yes, I am quite aware that your detention will interfere with Little League Quidditch practice, that is why this is a punishment."

"That stinks!" grumbled Draco.

"Would you care to make this two weekends of detention, Mr. Malfoy? Your first game is next weekend, I do believe. T'would be a shame to miss it while you are de-lunging Idle Fish."

"No, sir," Draco replied quickly, and contritely.

"Very good." Snape then leaned back against the edge of a nearby work table. "Now, why do you not let me know the reason you needed Chameleon Skin for an Animagus Reveal Potion?"

Draco and Harry stared in shocked wonder at each other. "How did you know, dad?"

"Chameleon Skin is used in that potion, and in a poison; nothing else. I shall inform you both now, if you were attempting to brew the poison, then I will paddle both of your bottoms until neither of you can sit for a week!" Although his voice was low, the professor's dark, silken tone seemed to rumble like thunder through their bones.

"No! No!" they both chorused wildly. Harry then added, "We just wanted to know what our Animaguses forms were, sir! Honest!"

Snape crossed his arms over his chest as he refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose. Patiently he said tautly, "Considering that the Animagus Reveal Potion is an Apprentice Level potion, and you are both first years with a slightly better than average brewing performance, which one of you intended to brew that potion?"

There was a variety of "Ahhh... errr... well, you... uhm... I think... ewww... ohhhh," from both boys until the professor snapped his hand up for them to stop, and be quiet.

Snape glared down his hooked nose in utter disapproval. "Let me guess," he began so staunchly, that both boys knew instantly that their professor was far from guessing. "The ambitious Miss Malfoy intended to brew this advanced potion." Harry's jaw fell open, and Draco fumed. Snape Summoned an elf.

"What may Twitsy do for Potions Master, sir?" bowed the small creature.

"Bring Miss Malfoy to me directly," he ordered.

The elf popped out. While it was gone, Snape turned away from the two errant Snakes and went to close his storage room door, and to add a new ward to it. At the sound of the elf returning, and a questioning Hermione letting out a startled squeak of surprise, he turned back to the Silver Trio.

"Miss Malfoy, your co-horts have confessed to attempting to steal quite a valuable ingredient from me. Since I know this involves the Animagus Reveal Potion, it slightly overshadows their blatant disregard for the curfew. Can you tell me, whatever made you think you could brew this potion?"

For a moment, only Hermione's jaw worked, and then her spine stiffened, "I'm very good at Potions, sir."

Normally, such arrogance would set Snape's teeth on edge, but the girl was simply stating fact; she was very good. He had no doubt that by her fifth year she would be bored with the normal curriculum and more interested in the advanced potions. He might require an assistance in a few years.

Still, his thoughts mused, that was in a few years. For now, "You are not that good, Miss Malfoy." Hermione was about to protest, but Harry put a restraining hand on his friend's arm, as did Draco on the other side of her. "The Animagus Reveal Potion," he declared sharply, "is more than just a complicated potion to brew, it is an unstable one. It takes brewing either by a Master, or at the side of a Master, to control it. Have you any idea what could have happened if you lost control of that potion, Miss Malfoy?"

Hermione leaned back from her teacher's anger, swallowed, and shook her head. Snape swooped like an avenging predator down towards the trio, and all three pulled back in alarm. "No explosions, but toxic fumes that would have had all three of you overcome before either of you could have pulled your wands and Vanished the mess. No one would have known, for hours at least, that you were all dead."

Hermione sniffled. Harry wiped at some stubborn moisture gathering at his eyes. Draco gaped, and grabbed his sister's arm in a tight grip. At that grip, tears began falling down Hermione's cheeks.

"I'm sorry, sir!" the girl sniffled, then snuffled. Snape quickly conjured a handkerchief, and gave it to her. As discretely as possible, Hermione blew her nose into the handkerchief.

"Be that as it may," said Snape, doing his best to keep a disapproving facade upon his features. He really did not like tears, and all three looked very close to falling down into a mess of tears. "All three of you will be serving detention this weekend, in addition, I expect an essay upon the Animagus Reveal Potion and why it is no. longer. used. in the training of an Animagi apprentice."

"But the book said...!" began Hermione in defense of herself and her friends.

Snape interrupted sharply, "And what have I told you about your precious books, Miss Malfoy?"

Hermione's shoulders drooped. "Just because I've read one book that doesn't mean my research should stop there."

"Correct. You will learn, as you work on your essay, what is wrong with the potion, why it is no longer used, and what is used instead. I would also like the three of you to find out just why Animagus training is not done on a whim by students, but with a trained professional."

Harry gulped as his father looked pointedly at him. Had he done something he should not have, that he didn't know about? His stomach felt tight, and sick.

Snape was quiet as he studied his son, and it bothered him that Harry looked ready to be ill. He dismissed the Malfoy children to their dorms with the admonishment that they were to be bright and early for breakfast, despite the late hour of the evening.

Once they left the private lab, Snape held out his hand to his son, "Harry. With me."

Harry stood obediently, and stared for a moment at his father's hand before taking it. Snape then led Harry out of the lab, and into their quarters. He then seated himself on the sofa, and pulled Harry so that the boy stood in front of him. He held Harry's small hands in both of his.

"Harry..."

Snape was suddenly interrupted by a blurred litany of, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Daddy! Please don't...!"

"Harry! Stop it!" chided Snape firmly before his son could voice a plea not to be hit.

Harry's mouth clamped shut. He didn't fight his father as Snape pulled him onto the sofa, and tucked him against his side. "Child," he sighed heavily. "Am I never to discipline you or your friends without causing you fear of me?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Harry whispered softly.

Snape turned slightly, then drew his son's chin up enough for him to see into eyes that had seen too much hurt for his young life. "If I had spanked Draco, would you have been angry with me?"

Harry's brows furrowed, and then he nodded. "You aren't supposed to hit us."

"As I did to Hermione when she berated me in the Great Hall?" After Hermione had become so incensed at her teacher for a creative punishment that would be meaningful for having sneaked out after curfew, and getting into the Restricted Section of the library, Hermione had gotten so angry that she had shouted at her teacher, and Head of House, in the Great Hall. Snape had reacted, justifiably, on instinct, and spanked the girl, once, in front of everyone.

"I know why you did that," Harry said sullenly, and pulled away from his father.

In that moment, Snape knew for certain that although he had explained the punishment to his son, who had nearly retreated into past memories from that scene, that Harry had not, yet, reconciled his emotions with the punishment of his friend. Truthfully, so far, Harry had been a nearly perfect little boy. His homework was always finished on time, he was respectful in class to all his teachers, and Snape had never caught the child being a nuisance at the meals, or during breaks in the corridors as the other students were wont to do.

With a lump in his chest, the Potions Master realised that Harry's good behavior had been, perhaps, too good. Contrary to what the students in the other Houses thought about Slytherin House getting away with everything, Snape was a strong disciplinarian in his House. At the end of the day, detentions would be given, scoldings meted out, or further chores within the House itself tasked to offenders. In addition, there were the weekly inspections to make sure the dorms and the common room were kept clean, and the enforcement of bedtimes.

Harry followed all of these rules, to the letter, without fail.

And, Snape, the inveterate rule maker, enforcer, had only blessed his good luck for having such an obedient son. Clearly he had missed the reason behind this near perfect, good behavior.

"Harry, are you aware that parents expect their children to misbehave?" Snape asked, somewhat awkwardly. He felt unsure about just how to delve into this subject, and so he had decided to just dive into it.

Harry gave his father a puzzled glance. He thought back to his cousin, Dudley. Dudley, the boy who was probably, in Harry's opinion, the worst behaved child on the planet. Dudley, who was absolute perfection in his parents eyes. Then, there had been Harry. Harry, the skinny boy who did all the chores without complaint, who obeyed every word of his aunt and uncle, who didn't fight back when Dudley hit him... for just because.

"Is that why parents think their kids are perfect?" Harry asked. He felt royally confused! Maybe, since he now belonged to his professor, who was now his father, he should stop acting so perfect?

Snape frowned in puzzlement at his son. There was definitely some mis-communication going on, and if he didn't clear it up, this whole situation in regards to discipline would always be a sore point between them.

"Harry, what did you think I would do for catching you and Draco stealing from me?" Snape asked carefully.

Harry stared down at the tops of his shoes, and chewed at his lower lip. "You'd be mad?" the small boy asked. He sounded very unsure of his answer, despite the presence of his punishment from his father.

"That sounds very like a guess, child. A rather accurate guess, but it does not answer my question." He picked up Harry's hand and curled it gently within his own, drawing the boy onto the sofa beside him. "Please tell me the truth?"

Harry looked up into his father's earnest, dark eyes, and sidled a bit closer to him. Staring down at his father's large, potion-stained, calloused hand, he took a deep breath. "They always told me that if I didn't do everything right, they'd send me away." Harry swallowed, and his other hand traced over his father's knuckles. "Don't you want me to do everything right? To be a good boy?" He lifted his head, and his green gaze implored Snape for something more than just a yes, or a no.

Snape tugged the boy gently to his side, keeping their gazes locked. "Whether you are getting in trouble, or failing a class, you are my good boy. You will be my good boy until all the suns in the night sky wink their last, and that, Harry, is a very, long time."

Harry smiled shyly up at his father. "So you won't ever send me away?"

Snape shook his head slowly. "Never." He then smirked with a smile, and chided, "But that doesn't give you carte blanche to act like a hooligan." A little more seriously he added, "When you do misbehave, though, son, I will discipline you."

Harry nodded, just as seriously. He then asked worriedly, "Will you ever spank me?"

"Does it worry you that I might?" inquired his father.

Harry shrugged, and he tried to tug his hand from his father's. Snape held him tightly, though, and cupped the child's cheek.

"Harry?" As the Head of Slytherin House there had been a handful of rare times that Snape had used corporal punishment on a Snake, but only on his first years, and it had never been more than a swat or two. The spankings were never intended to hurt, but to get the attention of a child that was usually hysterical with anger (as Hermione had been months earlier). His son, his fragile child, was a different matter.

"I s'pose," Harry finally said tightly, his cheeks flushing with colour.

Letting go of his son's hand he drew Harry into an embrace against his side. Harry's arm slipped across his abdomen securely as he laid his cheek against his father's chest.

"You were ill abused by your relatives, child. I think that giving you even an attention getting swat on your bum would hurt you more, here," Snape's fingers spread over his son's heart as Harry sighed at the thrum of his father's voice from his chest. "I do not ever wish to give you reason to fear me, but it is a parent's duty to properly discipline their child. You can be assured that I shall never spank you for any trouble you might get into in the future."

"Will I get grounded, or something like that?" Harry asked into his father's chest. He could feel his father nod.

"I think that would be appropriate in some situations," agreed Snape. "There could also be extra chores, restriction of activities, such as Quidditch, or during the summers, and holidays, you might not get to visit your friends."

"Am I gonna get an extra punishment for what we did since I'm also your son, Dad?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Extra?" repeated Snape, slightly confused.

"Well, I know you're probably gonna..."

Snape gently corrected Harry's grammar, "Going to, not gonna."

"Yeah, sorry. You're going to write to Mr. Malfoy about what happened, right?" Harry lifted his head so he could see his father's face.

"I am, yes. I always inform a student's parents as to any trouble above the simple back-talk, or pranks."

"Well, then I bet Draco and Hermione are going to get Howlers, or something like that. So, are you going to, maybe, send me one, too?"

Snape smirked slightly, and his eyes glimmered with amusement, as he now understood his son's question about additional punishment; Harry wanted to know if Snape was going to do what other parents would do. "I do not think I shall send a Howler, but I do believe I ought to do something to impress upon you the cost behind Chameleon Skin."

"What would that be?" asked Harry, a little worry creeping into his voice.

"Hmmm," Snape mused, a small smile tugging at his lips as he pretended to give grave consideration to the question. He then began, "Well, since I began you upon an allowance just before Christmas, I believe it might be providential to have you do extra chores around here to earn an addition to your allowance so that you might save up an amount equal to the cost of the Chameleon Skin."

"I could do that!" perked up Harry. He then jumped to his feet. "When do I start?"

Snape rose to his feet with a small chuckle. "I think you should go to bed first, Harry. It is very late."

Harry hugged his father, and then walked with him to the Slytherin common room, and his dorm.


Update 2015