Author's Note: So sorry that this one took so long. Real Life decided to sucker punch me, and it was a bit of a task getting myself back into the mindset to write. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the long chapter.

As always, great big squishy hugs for my brilliant beta, bluefirefly5. Her encouragement and insightful suggestions have yet again provided a much better final product for all of you.

Old Magic

Chapter IV: Pride and Prejudice

~.~.{S.*.S}.~.~

5 December 1977 - Monday

Life, as always, went on without regard for the fact that everything had changed. Everything was changing. Thinking back to last summer, to the start of this year… It was hard to believe that it had been only months. It felt like an entire lifetime had come and gone. Myself, I barely recognized. And, of course, it all came back to Hermione. She had strolled into my life without warning, and changed everything.

Instead of being well on my way to becoming a Death Eater, as I almost certainly would have been, I was officially a part of a group fighting against them. Instead of dreaming of battle and glory, I'd actually been part of a battle – and found that what little glory was to be had from such a thing was not worth the cost. Most importantly, I was not that bitter, hated boy loathing himself as much as his enemies. I was Severus Snape, and for once, I didn't resent that. How could I, when Hermione obviously didn't? When she always looked at me as though she was the lucky one, just to be near me.

For the first time in my life, I was part of something that mattered. For the first time, I had a future that looked bright enough, I actually wanted to live to see it.

"Silence," Alek's traditional greeting quieted the room as he strode to the front.

And somehow, despite everything, there were still classes to attend, tests to take, an entire world going on around me as though nothing had changed. It still took me by surprise, particularly on Mondays. Returning to classes after a weekend divided between brewing potions for the Order and training with Hermione both magical and physical was something like stepping into another world – another life. It hardly felt real.

By the time Alek reached the front of the room, it had fallen into utter silence. No one dared to speak out of turn beneath his watchful gaze. In the few months Alek had been teaching, he was already well known as fair but severe.

"Today, we are beginning our term projects," Alek announced, his quiet tone easily carried over the room. "These projects will account for fifty percent of your second term grade, and the practical portion can be used for your NEWT practical. You will complete these projects in teams of two. Each pair will choose a different project from the list on the board." He flicked his wand and the chalk rose to begin scrawling out a list in a neat hand. "Choose your partners now and seat yourselves together."

I didn't quite groan when he didn't assign our partners, but I wanted to. I wished, yet again, that Hermione was in this class still. There was no one else that I even talked to much, meaning that I was either going to end up alone, or worse, stuck with that twit Gryffindor, Ashleigh when everyone else had paired.

"Severus."

I forced my face to blank before turning to face Lucius, who was standing right behind me with his books tucked into his arm. "Lucius," I replied in kind.

"Do you want to pair for this?" he asked expressionlessly.

I stared at him a moment, but I knew I hadn't misheard him – however much more likely that seemed. "Why?" I asked after a moment.

"Because we're the top Slytherins in this class," he replied simply. And maybe it was that simple. If we could work together civilly, there was no doubt that we'd ace this project. Granted, that was a rather substantial "if".

"We're not in second year anymore, Lucius," I warned flatly. "If we're working together, you will be doing your portion of the work."

That Malfoy mask slipped momentarily as he actually blinked in surprise, at the tone or the ultimatum, but he recovered himself quickly. "Of course," he answered smoothly, welcoming himself to the seat next to mine.

Well, that was that, I supposed. I reclaimed my seat next to him and studied the board.

Alek made his way to my – our, now – table less than a minute later. "Mr. Snape. Mr. Malfoy. Have you decided on a topic?"

"Dark curses," I said before Lucius could speak. I glanced at him and raised an eyebrow, not asking permission, but allowing him a chance for rebuttal.

He stared at me a moment, in that way he had that made me feel like he was trying to figure out what made me tick. Then he just nodded.

Alek just twitched his wand toward the blackboard, then moved on toward the next group that had managed to get settled. The Dark Curses topic on the board was stricken through.

I glanced around the room, mildly curious about the other groups being formed. Not surprisingly, Potter looked to be in the final stages of begging Lily to partner with him. That little, half exasperated smile on her face was one that I recognized. She was about to give in. In front of them, Sirius and Lupin had their heads together when Alek approached them. They seemed to have come to an agreement by that point, and informed Alek that they were choosing Dark Creatures. I rolled my eyes minimally at the totally unsurprising choice.

Longbottom and Ferris were another unsurprising pair. They chose Dueling Spells. Potter and Lily chose Warding Defenses and Protections, which, by the look on their faces, was entirely Lily's choice while Potter neatly tucked his tail between his legs and accepted it. I may have smirked at that had I not been aware that Lucius was presently watching me as much as everyone else.

Pettigrew, I was tickled to see, had ended up with Ashleigh. Between the two of them, I had no doubt that they'd manage a Troll with Distinction. Neither looked happy about the arrangement, but both seemed resigned.

Narcissa, all calm, pureblood poise, was nonetheless sulking where she was seated next to Adrian Avery. She saw me watching her and her glare turned murderous. Ah. So she'd been hoping to partner with Lucius, I gathered. She had taken to going out of her way to be near him of late. Unfortunately for her, Lucius rarely acknowledged her.

Narcissa chose Cursed Objects without any evidence that she cared at all what Adrian thought about it. That was actually a good one for her, considering the notorious collection of dark artifacts in the Black collection. Pettigrew and Ashleigh ended up with Battlefield Healing. Humorously, they both looked like believed they had no hope at all of doing well on it, but there weren't many options left by the time they got themselves settled and were able to choose a topic.

"These projects will be due two weeks before your NEWTs. They will consist of an essay between three and ten feet in length. Do the bare minimum at your own risk, kids. The second half of the project will consist of a practical demonstration. For dark curses, you'll demonstrate the counters. For cursed objects, you'll demonstrate detection and removal spells… I'd like to think you're all intelligent enough to extrapolate your own practical. If not, ask me after class." The way his eyes settled on Pettigrew and Ashleigh as he said that last brought a smirk to my lips at last.

"Your work on this project will be done on your own time, but you'll be seated next to your partner for the remainder of the year – just to remind you of the fruits of teamwork. Now, everyone up!"

I rose quickly along with everyone else, just before my desk and chair were shunted toward the side of the room.

"Potter, name the three schools of simple shield spells!"

~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~

I stifled a yawn as I passed the gargoyle on my way out of Albus' office. It was almost nine, and I'd been in there since six. I'd had my breakfast at my desk in the corner of Albus' office while listening to Fabian's report on the DMLE. That had led into Gideon's report on his latest mission for his "day job" as an auror. Like most of the reports, it had pointed to just how important the Order really was. The Ministry was more concerned with looking like they were making progress than in actually making progress against the rising threat of the "new" dark lord.

After the brothers Prewett had gone, there had been another hour alone with Albus during which time we'd discussed his upcoming plans. He'd listened intently to all of my opinions, which were based off my knowledge of future events as much as current, though I didn't actually give him any details on the future knowledge. At least I was becoming more confident in my Occlumency. I still didn't think I could stand up long if Albus really wanted to make an issue of it, but I no longer feared that he would pick anything from my surface thoughts while we conversed. I was sure that he'd noticed my steadily strengthening shields, but he'd yet to comment on it.

This had become a common way for me to spend my mornings. Albus took most of his reports either early in the morning or later in the evening, before or after the Order members attended their day jobs. Though I rarely had much to say about most of the reports, Albus wanted me present as often as possible. It made sense. If some larger catastrophe was brewing, I would be most likely to notice it coming soonest if I was there to hear all the details.

Of course, I didn't think that that was all that Albus was doing by inviting me to join the debriefings. The way that he led me sometimes, to reach certain conclusions on my own rather than just giving me his thoughts made me think that he wanted me to get used to acting in that capacity. Everything felt like a test with him. A test that I didn't know how to study for, and often didn't even know if I'd passed or failed. It was disconcerting, but I was growing almost alarmingly accustomed to it.

Albus was grooming me for something – what I'd not yet ascertained. Which left me to suspect his every inference. And my every reaction, lest I fall in line without realizing that I was doing so.

I passed the walk down to the dungeons lost in thought, and stifled another yawn before slipping into my cool, indifferent mask as I entered the potions classroom. I still liked classes. I still loved to learn. Lately, though, school had come to feel like little more than the decoy for my real life. A life that revolved around Severus and the Order.

Luckily, Severus was a part of my decoy life, which made it much more bearable.

I slipped into my seat next to him, and our hands found each other under the table without thought. Our fingers winding together was like releasing the valve on a pressurized tank of the tension with which I lived. I wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms and snog him senseless, but considering his general aversion to public displays of affection, that option was out until we could sneak away to our rooms later.

Our rooms were still connected, which made out lives just a bit easier. To begin, we were now able to choose whether we wanted to appear to go to bed and wake up together or not. We still did at least three days a week, just because the other students would probably assume we were fighting or something if we suddenly stopped visiting each other's rooms.

Slughorn finally started the class, and we soon fell into the easy, familiar pattern of brewing, with me following his lead and forcibly relaxing my general devotion to the wisdom of books in favor of the wisdom of Severus. When it came to potions, The Wisdom of Severus was always superior. It was just one more thing that I loved about him. He truly was a rare genius when it came to potions.

Our potion was nearly finished when my general state of controlled paranoia saved it from a messy end. Movement from the corner of my eye – movement that didn't quite fit into the standard background bustle of the classroom – had me reacting instantly. I turned just in time to see the asphodel sprig James was in the process of tossing toward my cauldron. My hand rose instinctively against the hurled projectile, and my magic rose with it. I wasn't thinking of a spell, only reacting to the circumstance. And for once in the last three months, my magic responded to my intent flawlessly.

What rose from my hand was like nothing I had ever seen before. It shimmered gold, just like my magic, and looked almost like a shield. Unlike shields that repelled magic, though, this shield responded to the physical object, reflecting it with such accuracy, that it flew twice as fast on its path back to James. It hit him right in the palm, bounced off, and landed in his cauldron.

James' eyes widened in perfect shock for just an instant before he glanced toward his cauldron, then ducked just in time for his potion to explode out of his cauldron.

Unfortunately, Lily wasn't watching closely enough to avoid the spray of boiling hot potion.

"What was that?" Severus whispered in my ear while Slughorn was bustling Lily out the door with James to escort her to the hospital wing. "What spell did you use?" he clarified when I didn't immediately answer.

I finally turned back around. Severus was already bottling our perfect – better than perfect – potion. I shook my head minimally, "I'm not really sure. Intent-based magic," which was essentially an adult form of accidental magic. It was fairly rare, usually only seen in moments of extreme distress. A parent levitating a falling child without wand or spell, for example.

Severus glanced at me and raised his brows in a way that managed to convey both that he was impressed and that he wanted to talk about it more later.

I just nodded my reply.

We were the first ones done, as usual, so we spent the last twenty minutes of class, after turning in our potion and cleaning up our station, reading. Severus was currently immersed in a dark arts book, though the cover was charmed to make it look like a Defense book. I was reading another in a long line of books I'd found in the library about Salazar Slytherin. Unfortunately, most of the books were written at least a few generations after his death, and had little reputable information about him or his life. Still, I had to try to find something that might indicate why he'd commissioned my wand. Even a single line buried in one of the books might give me the hint I needed to decide if there was time travel or prophecy ever related to him, or if he'd maybe had another reason for that wand.

When we were finally dismissed, I left the room with my nose still in the book. I'd just seen something that may have been vaguely promising. Or, it may have been nothing, but I couldn't bring myself to put it down before exploring the possibility as thoroughly as possible. I'd go crazy if I lost the train of thought before I next picked it up.

My paranoia again warned me of danger shortly after leaving the potions lab. I was in the process of locating the danger while drawing my wand when Severus' hand closed around my arm and yanked me aside just in time to avoid a boil hex. I spotted James where he'd just sent the hex at my back, and my wand was just rising, though I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to do besides threaten him or defend myself, when another hex flew over my shoulder.

Narcissa stepped around me, one side of her face already sprouting boils from where she'd evidently taken the hex meant for me, and she and James were abruptly dueling in the middle of the hall.

I left my wand up to defend against stray hexes if necessary, and glanced briefly at Severus, unsure exactly what to do about this unexpected turn of events. He shook his head, his eyes as bewildered as I felt. In more than three months, I'd never seen Narcissa get into this kind of fight. She was much more the type to lay traps – I still hadn't forgiven her for that despair trap – and attack with refined insults that nonetheless cut to the bone than she was to dueling. At the moment, she looked mad enough to flay James alive. Luckily for him – and poor Harry's eventual existence – James was the better dueler. Narcissa was doing a good job of closing that gap on pure rage though.

"Protego," I incanted quietly, raising a shield on the other side of the dueling pair when one of their hexes took a course toward a third year who'd stopped a little too close to watch.

"Expelliarmus!"

Both James and Narcissa lost their wands to Slughorn's spell, and the corridor went very quiet while the spectators toward the back began to edge away from the scene.

Slughorn's redder than usual face settled on each of the duelers, who were both bearing signs of hex damage, then me, with my wand out. "Wilkins," he said finally. "Take Mr. Potter and Miss Black to the hospital wing. Everyone else," he looked directly at Severus, "you have classes to attend, I believe." With the two extra wands closed in one meaty fist, he returned to his classroom.

I looked at the two in question. James was glaring at me, Narcissa was glaring at the floor, wincing very slightly as one of the boils on her cheek burst. With a small sigh, I waved them in the direction of the infirmary. I just gave Severus a small smile before parting from him.

The walk up to the hospital wing was very quiet and very tense. James took the lead, his head held high despite the swelling on his neck indicative of the stinging hex he'd taken. Narcissa walked next to me, though with as much distance between us as the corridor would allow. She mostly kept her face turned down, as though hoping to conceal the boils from the casual eye.

Madam Wynsor took one look at us upon our entrance and gave us one of the most annoyed glares that I had ever been recipient of – and that was saying something. I gave her my most innocent smile in return. After all, I wasn't the one dripping puss on her sterile floor. "What happened?" she demanded as she shunted them each onto a bed and went to work on Narcissa after telling James to open his robe so that she could see the damage.

"That crazy Slytherin attacked me!" James snapped at once.

Narcissa sent him a glare meant to kill.

"Easy there, Potter," I said mildly, "You're outnumbered."

"Do you need to be here?" Wynsor asked me curtly.

"I believe I am wanted as a witness," I answered with a polite smile. Slughorn clearly meant to do something about the duel, or he'd not have retained the wands.

"Well, then have a seat," she gestured to a chair near the door.

I accepted the dismissal, and was just sinking into the seat when the door opened again, admitting Albus. He stopped there and looked at me, then conjured a squishy purple armchair next to me and seated himself.

For a long moment, we simply sat in silence and watched Madam Wynsor work. When she finally finished up, Albus looked at me. "Shall we?" he gestured toward their beds.

I nodded and led the way back over to them.

"How are they, Adel?" Albus inquired.

The mediwitch harrumphed irritably. "A boil hex and a stinging hex," she gestured to the applicable patients. "Valuable potions, Albus, not to mention my valuable time. Dueling in the corridors…"

"They will be duly punished, Adel," Albus placated.

She just huffed again and stalked toward her office while Albus turned twinkling eyes on James. "Now, why don't you tell me what happened," he advised.

James puffed his chest indignantly, "Black attacked me. I was defending myself, sir."

Albus nodded and looked at Narcissa. "Miss Black? Why did you attack Mr. Potter?"

"Professor," I interrupted, allowing my disapproval to be apparent, but containing the disgust I felt for his obvious favoritism.

He looked at me and raised his brow inquiringly.

"If you would permit me, I witnessed the altercation. I believe I can provide a less… biased assessment."

He gave a small nod of permission to continue.

"Potter cast the boil hex. I believe it was meant for me, but Severus pulled me out of the way, and it hit Narcissa. She retaliated."

James was glaring at me, Narcissa was frowning at me, and Albus seemed to be considering his response. "Would you both say that is accurate?" Albus asked them.

"Yes, sir," Narcissa said quietly, the picture of pureblood poise.

"Mr. Potter?"

James looked between the two of us, then at Albus, and finally at his knees. "Yes, Professor," he grumbled at last.

Albus nodded and focused on Narcissa again. "A week of detentions, I think, Miss Black, for poor handling of the situation. You may return to your classes," he drew her wand from his robe and passed it to her.

I clenched my jaw to avoid snarling something unpleasant. "Headmaster," I inserted with forced calm, "Could I perhaps speak with you privately for a moment?"

Albus looked at me with a combination of surprise and curiosity. "Very well, Miss Wilkins," he started toward the door.

I glanced at Narcissa and motioned for her to wait a moment. James looked like he could chew nails. I winked at him.

I met Albus near the door where he was patiently waiting to see what I had to say. "A week?" I demanded, keeping my voice low. "Yes, she got a bit carried away, but James hit her blindside with a very painful hex," I hissed at him.

He blinked at me as though he could not have guessed I would say something like that. Sometimes his mind games were very tiresome. "Do you really think it's your place to say so, Miss Wilkins?" And using my surname to remind me of my place…

"Obviously not," I admitted without hesitation. "Otherwise I'd have said it in front of them. Regardless of whether it is my place though, I think it's my duty. I know that you've been running this school for a long time, sir, and I respect that, but are you even aware of how blatantly you favor the Gryffindors, particularly over the Slytherins?

"Yes, I know that Voldemort was a Slytherin. I understand that a lot of dark wizards have come from Slytherin, but my house is not exclusive to producing them!"

"When you first arrived here, I would not have thought you'd ever so vehemently defend your house," he noted thoughtfully.

"That's because I'd never been a Slytherin," I assured him. "I, like every other Gryffindor you've taken under your wing, bought into the fact that Slytherins were evil. I know better now. Don't you see that you're ostracizing a quarter of the school? Don't you see that most Slytherins would never come to you with a problem because they don't trust you? Do you realize that the children who've had the most difficult lives – abused children – tend to develop the traits of a Slytherin? The kids in my house need guidance as much if not more than anyone in this school. They need someone with strong Light tendencies to guide them, not shun and punish them, proving that you are the enemy their parents make you out to be!"

Albus stared at me while I tried to recover from that unintentional rant. I hadn't realized how much that had been building up these last few months, but I supposed this outburst had been inevitable. He glanced toward Narcissa and James, then focused on me again. "I can't say that I approve of your approach, but I do see your point," he finally relented. "Since you have taken such a keen interest in this incident, what do you suggest for punishment?"

"One detention for Narcissa," I said firmly. "For overreacting." He looked doubtful, so I pushed on. "You should note the fact that she didn't use any spell more damaging than stinging and boil hexes, sir. We both know that she could have done much worse, even without delving into the dark magic that I am certain her family has taught her. She showed a great deal of restraint despite the situation."

He nodded slightly for me to go on.

"A month of detention for James."

He frowned disapprovingly, "You're certain that you're not allowing your prejudice to color that recommendation? I am well aware of the animosity that exists between the two of you."

"Sir, James Potter is an arrogant, entitled child. You seem to treat that like an excuse for his behavior. There are seven months left to his time as a student. If he doesn't learn better before graduation, how long do you think he'll survive this war? I think his childish behavior should be dealt with as harshly as possible to maybe beat some sense through his thick skull before he tries something so stupid against a Death Eater and gets himself killed.

"Furthermore, in addition to attempting to hex me in the back, he attempted to sabotage my potion in class today. When I deflected the attempt, it ended up in his cauldron, and Lily was injured as a result."

He sighed sadly, "I will speak to him about that, Miss Wilkins, but I can't punish him for what is your word against his." He held up his hand when I opened my mouth to protest, "If he attempts anything of the sort again, I assure you that he will be disciplined harshly."

I snapped my mouth shut irritably. Would someone have to be killed or seriously maimed before the man would take serious action? I chose not to say that though, as I had the sense that I was already pushing his patience at the moment.

"Now, shall we rejoin the others?"

I gave a stiff nod and followed him back to James and Narcissa, the latter of which looked both curious and suspicious for a moment before she wiped her face clear.

"Well, Miss Wilkins was kind enough to bring a few things to my attention. As a result, I have reconsidered," he said to Narcissa, his eyes much kinder than they typically were when facing any Slytherin except me. "I think one detention may be sufficient to remind you that retaliating is not the proper way to handle such a situation."

She blinked at him in surprise, then looked at me briefly. "Thank you, sir," she said quietly, clearly off-balance by the reduced sentence. "You may return to your classes, Miss Black."

She nodded and cast one more veiled look in my direction before leaving the infirmary with her head held high.

"Now, Mr. Potter," Albus said amicably when it was just the three of us. "Can you explain to me why you cast that boil hex at Hermione?"

"She ruined my potion, sir!" he exclaimed.

"That is enough!" I snapped in annoyed exasperation. "Your potion was ruined when your attempt to destroy mine backfired on you. Presently, I can't quite decide what bothers me more. Your shameless lies, or the fact that the headmaster allows you to get away with them. There is a war going on out there, James," I said coldly, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Hogsmeade. "If you want to live to see your twentieth birthday, I highly suggest that you give some serious thought to exactly how you plan to survive after graduation. The real world is going to be a rude awakening for you."

James looked like he was ready to breathe fire, but Albus stepped in before he could.

"As it happens, Mr. Potter, I agree with her," he said sending James that disappointed look that I so hated directed at me. I forcibly suppressed a smirk.

"What?" James demanded.

Albus gave James a very grave look. "Your behavior recently," I carefully did not snort at the "recently" part, "has been considerably less favorable than I would hope to see from you, Mr. Potter. I implore you to consider the fact that your educational career is nearly at an end. Behavior like this during auror training will not be tolerated. Therefore, in an effort to help you recognize that fact, I think two weeks detentions is appropriate."

James sputtered in total shock.

"And twenty points from Gryffindor for very poor judgment, Mr. Potter."

Twenty, I mentally snarled. Well, I shouldn't have been surprised at Albus going easy on his house – and it was most definitely still his house despite his supposedly nonbiased position as headmaster.

"Miss Wilkins, I believe it is time for you to return to class," he said to me before James could manage to form any sort of complaints. I assumed that Albus was going to give him that talking to now. I really hoped that he remained firm when they were alone together.

I just nodded to Albus and took my leave. As I left the infirmary, I couldn't help but acknowledge that my words had evidently had some kind of impact on the old man. The leniency he'd shown Narcissa, I hoped might become a trend toward Slytherins in general, but I wasn't about to hold my breath. It was entirely possible that he'd mostly done it to placate me. I would have liked to think that Albus could have learned something meaningful from what I'd said, but I couldn't help but think that the "old dogs and new tricks" concept absolutely applied to the old wizard.

Well, I hadn't gotten what I'd wanted entirely, but neither had Albus. That could only mean that I'd successfully wrung a compromise out of the old goat. I had to admit, it was a good start.

~.~.{L.*.E}.~.~

Lily was sulking a bit when she headed back to the common room after being released from the infirmary. She knew she was sulking, but she wasn't in the mood to care. James had promised to come see her right after dinner and walk her back. But he hadn't shown up.

She sighed and tried not to let it get to her. She tended to do that a lot with him. She knew that she was hopelessly in love with the prat, but he did still irritate her to no end sometimes. He still had a lot of growing up to do. He'd be an amazing man when he finally got there, she didn't doubt, but… For the first time, she really felt worried about how long it was going to take.

She'd overheard the argument in the hospital wing earlier when everyone had evidently thought her still asleep. She'd woken up to Madam Wynsor's grousing – that woman really needed to retire, as she'd obviously come to resent her job – and she'd been surprised to realize that James was already back in the infirmary. He really did try her patience sometimes.

She'd managed to catch Wilkins' explanation of the circumstances, which must have been accurate if James didn't try to refute it. Lily was really having a hard time getting a read on the new Slytherin. When school had first started, James had told her that Wilkins was responsible for his… interesting coloring. He'd explained what had happened, and she'd allowed herself to instantly hate the other girl.

Honestly, after today, she was feeling a little ashamed of herself for buying into that for so long. She really should have known better. She was well aware of how James treated Severus just because he was a Slytherin. Granted, Sev had fought back, and she even felt like he deserved it sometimes, but James had started it. It was the primary reason that she'd hated James for so long.

She sighed again. Why did everything have to be so hard? She loved James, but she just couldn't condone his prejudice. Of course, there was no talking him out of it either. Merlin knew she'd tried enough times. She was hoping that he'd grow out of it, but now it seemed that Wilkins was his latest target.

Hermione Wilkins – probably the future Mrs. Snape. The two of them had become the talk of the school after Halloween. Hermione was beautiful, charismatic, intelligent, talented, and powerful – she also seemed a typical Slytherin, but that wouldn't be a downside from Sev's perspective. And she looked at Severus like he was the only thing in the world that could possibly matter to her. That was a point in her favor in Lily's book. A big point. She really seemed to care for him, and Sev deserved that. There had been a time when Lily had wished that she could have felt that way for him, but it had never happened. Cocky prats are more my style, she thought with a fond smile.

Hermione seemed to be a good influence on Severus. Lily had spent years trying to draw him away from the dark arts and the Slytherins that seemed destined to follow You-Know-Who, but she'd never managed to do it. If anything, their every fight about it seemed to push him further in that direction. Then, in fifth year, she'd finally given up on him. She'd cut ties before he could break her heart completely beyond repair. But it was well known that Wilkins had no interest in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She didn't really talk to Gryffindors much, but Lily had heard from some Ravenclaws in the library that Hermione seemed to be willing to declare that fact to anyone who asked.

Before today, Lily had actually been considering the odds of a positive reception if she tried to talk to Hermione. After all, they did have a fondness for Severus in common. She still didn't know what she'd have said. Maybe just thank her for looking after Sev.

But what she'd overheard today had changed her perception of the Slytherin girl. Quite a lot, actually. Aside from having better training and a good deal of power – and being generally a bit odd – Lily had never thought Hermione was much different from anyone else at the school. Yet today, Lily had heard her not only stand up to the headmaster, but have a heated argument with him from what she could glean. She hadn't been able to hear most of what they'd said, but the tones were quite obvious. Hermione Wilkins had scolded Albus Dumbledore. And she'd not only gotten away with it, but she seemed to have gotten her way in a reduced punishment for Narcissa and a harsher one for James.

Though she did feel a little indignant on James' behalf, she couldn't help but agree with the fact that he really did need to grow up. Had he really tried to hex Hermione in the back? Had their potion really exploded because he was trying to sabotage Hermione's? Given the way he'd not fought his argument harder, she could only assume that that had, in fact, happened. She knew James well enough to know that he'd have thrown a complete hissy fit if Hermione had been lying.

The real question was… Who the hell was Hermione Wilkins that she could talk to the headmaster like that and get away with it? Who was she that he'd actually listen? In a lot of ways, she'd seemed more like a professor than a fellow student today. Actually, this wasn't the first time Lily had gotten that impression from the girl – it was just the first she'd thought of it in those terms. Hermione was a lot more mature than most of the seventh years.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she entered the common room. She glanced around but didn't see James anywhere. None of his friends were there either. She frowned at that. They'd been disappearing a lot lately. At first, she'd just assumed that they had some kind of grand prank in the works, but it had been a month now, and there had been no explosions literal or figurative, so she was starting to wonder.

They sometimes went to their dorm when they were plotting, so she headed in that direction. She was just reaching for the knob when shouting from inside caused her to pause.

"…JAMES, YOU STUPID, SELF-CENTERED FUCKING PRAT!" Sirius practically screamed.

Lily's mouth fell open a little. She had never heard Sirius and James have a fight that sounded that bad.

"WHAT IS WITH YOU?!" James shouted right back. "You haven't had my back since you started cozying up to that fucking Slytherin!"

"Hermione?! You think this is about Hermione?! Are you really that stupid! My baby fucking brother could DIE, you bloody idiot!"

"THAT'S what this is about?" James demanded. "He's a Death Eater, Sirius!"

There was a roar and a crash. Lily jumped and jolted out of her surprised stupor, rushing into the room. Sirius had James pinned on the floor and was punching him repeatedly in the face. Remus looked momentarily stunned to stillness. He was just reaching for his wand when Lily drew hers.

"Impedimenta! Incarcerus!" she shouted.

Sirius was knocked off James and quickly bound. He struggled futily against the bonds, still glaring at James. "He's my BROTHER!" he screamed. "How fucking DARE you!"

James pulled himself up slowly, wincing slightly as he put a hand to his bleeding mouth. He was shaking badly and looking like he couldn't decide if he should scream in return or cry.

Remus hurried to stoop at Sirius side and wrap his arms around him. He whispered something in his ear and Sirius snarled wordlessly before letting himself sag against Remus.

"What's going on?" Lily asked, bewildered and frightened.

"Wilkins," James snarled. "No, Sirius!" he snapped when it looked like Sirius was going to start yelling again. "She's what started this, I mean. She thinks she's so fucking perfect. Dumbledore favors her, all the teachers do. And then this shit with the Order."

Lily jumped when Remus suddenly drew his wand and pointed it at James. "One more word and I silence you," the werewolf said coolly.

James just blinked at him.

"You know the rules, damn it, James!" Remus snapped.

Something really weird was going on. First with James and Sirius fighting, and now Remus of all people was drawing a wand on his friend.

"It's Lily!" James protested.

"No one, James," Remus insisted.

"What is going on?" Lily demanded.

Remus sighed. "I'm sorry, Lily. We can't tell you."

Lily huffed in annoyance. "First, you lot are disappearing God knows where every time I turn around, and now you're fighting each other… Why can't you tell me?"

James dropped himself onto his bed and found a mirror to examine the damage to his face. Remus just heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, Lily. We really can't tell you."

"Hermione," Sirius said quietly.

"What?" Lily blinked. Why did Hermione keep coming into this?

"Ask Hermione. I don't know if she'll tell you, but…"

"Why does Wilkins get to decide?" James posed, though he sounded a little less angry.

"I don't know, James," Sirius snapped. "She just does. Leave it, okay?"

James sneered, but then winced at his cut lip and said nothing.

"Ask Hermione Wilkins," Lily said again, just to make absolutely sure that they weren't going to laugh and tell her it was a joke. Not that this atmosphere seemed to preclude joking, but with this lot, one never could tell.

Sirius just nodded. "Yeah. She's a decent sort – for a Slytherin. She won't mind your asking, I'm sure."

Lily frowned at him for a moment. She hadn't realized that Sirius even knew Wilkins, but it certainly sounded like it. "Okay," she nodded, then looked at James' bloodied face and sighed. "Let's get you back to the hospital wing," she sighed, then couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "Three times in one day…" If they were lucky, Madam Wynsor would be gone for the night.

~.~.{H.*.G}.~.~

"Tempus."

03:13 glowed dull violet in the air at the point of my wand. The numbers faded as I tucked my wand back into my sleeve and ran a hand over my tired eyes. I needed sleep. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten a full night. My days had become overrun between school and the Order. Mornings and sometimes evenings spent with Albus – which was extremely stressful. Classes, studying, and meals fell between that, with wand practice and physical training squeezed into every available space.

Then I was crawling into bed with Severus – which was absolutely the best part of my day. If I was conscious enough, there was some snogging, and then sleep. Until I woke up from a nightmare, which had now ventured into Severus being maimed and killed, along with everyone else from the Order in addition to the old ones about my time. I could sometimes get back to sleep from them now, which I fully attributed to Severus' warm arms wrapped around me. Even without the nightmares, too many late nights were meeting too many early mornings.

I knew it wasn't good for me to consistently go with so little sleep, but I couldn't help but think that it was the least sacrifice I owed this war at the moment.

It was usually only one or two days a week now that I ended up wandering the corridors in the middle of the night, trying to get my mind off the latest horror it had invented. Occlumency was supposed to help with nightmares, but it didn't seem to be doing much for me yet no matter how hard I tried to clear my mind before sleep. My stupid mind didn't like to "clear".

It didn't help that the war was particularly hard to get off my mind when I spent so much of my days thinking about it. That had certainly gotten worse since Molly had been taken and all that had come of that. Though Molly and the twins had come out of that mess okay, it had been a rude awakening. I'd never doubted the seriousness of the war. Not since second year, at least. I'd been in enough tight scrapes, and watched my friends go through enough, to know that the war was very real, very dangerous, and that it wasn't going to go away on its own. Somehow though, that had faded a bit in recent months. I'd been so focused on my magic, and then Severus…

I sighed heavily. Severus. The one bright spot in a horribly dreary world. But I had to be careful. He made me happy, which was great, but I couldn't let myself become complacent.

I was currently wandering the dungeons. Even the teachers would be in bed by now, so I could have wandered above with minimal concern, but I'd grown rather fond of the dungeons, dank and cold as they were. There was a security in the slightly claustrophobic corridors, and the peace of knowing how small a percentage of the castle was either comfortable or familiar down here. No wonder the dungeons were a haven for the Slytherin house. This part of the castle was ours as much as our common room. And I knew these tunnels probably better than anyone in the castle except maybe the headmaster. Well, quite possibly better than him too. I couldn't see him spending a lot of time down here. Even if Albus did know them though, I doubted the castle would welcome him down here the way it did Slytherins.

Brushing aside my annoyance for the old man, I took stock of my surroundings that I'd scarcely been noting while I'd wandered. I was always aware of my surrounds, but not always on a conscious level. That part of me was now informing me that I'd wandered to the brink of my experience. The corridor ahead was unfamiliar to me, for all it looked just like every other.

I wasn't surprised at finding new territory after these past months of wandering. There was a reason that few even in Slytherin treaded very far off the beaten path down here. Like the staircases above, these corridors had a tendency to shift. Or, more appropriately, the walls did, opening tunnels and sealing others evidently at random. For that reason, getting lost down here was damnably easy if one was careless.

Luckily, I was very rarely careless. I considered turning back to familiar ground, but curiosity had always been my fatal flaw. If there was knowledge to be had, I would not be happy until I possessed it. With that in mind, I cautiously crossed the threshold into the unexplored tunnel. To the left, it turned abruptly back toward the way I'd come about a dozen paces down. To the right… inexplicably, it continued on for such a distance that it must have led at least half the width of the lake.

Drawing my wand, I made a small mark on the wall directly in front of the corridor I'd just exited. It was inconspicuous and unlikely to be noticed by anyone else, but I'd be able to find it and confirm that I was in the right place when I returned.

With a small thrill of excitement, I started off down the long tunnel, which sloped down at a minute angle, more felt than seen. I walked for a long time, noting that there was not a single intersecting corridor, or break in the monotonous stone walls. I was starting to wonder if I'd found another of the secret entrances into the castle. Perhaps this one let out in the Forbidden Forest. If that was the case, I decided, I would not attempt to explore what lay beyond. Not at night, at least. I'd come back on a weekend maybe, and figure out exactly where it went. Assuming that this did lead outside and not just to some obscure room.

The Chamber of Secrets suddenly popped into my head, and I wondered if there might not be another such room secreted down here. Another basilisk? A lethifold? What else might Salazar Slytherin have hidden down here? And would I automatically be attacked as a muggleborn, or spared as a Slytherin? Or would it spare anyone other than Salazar himself?

Just when I was seriously starting to consider the merits of tucking my tail between my legs and going back to my room, the end of the tunnel came into sight.

Gnawing my lip uncertainly, I eyed the blank wall ahead. The corridor seemed to turn ninety degrees to the left there. Trying not to audibly gulp, I drew my wand and wished that I felt as confident with that in my grip as I had at the beginning of September.

"Well, I've come all this way…" I muttered to myself, ignoring the shrewd voice in my head that told me I sounded like a brash Gryffindor. Harry would have gone on… which seemed to be case and point.

I gave myself a determined shake and started walking again. However Slytherin I'd become, I was still Gryffindor, at least in part. I'd just use my Slytherin cunning to moderate the Gryffindor impulsiveness, and I'd be fine. Probably.

At the end of the corridor, I found that it did indeed turn left. For about one meter, where it ended in a black wooden door, slightly ajar. Shaking my head in silent reprimand to myself, I stepped forward and gently pushed the door open with my left hand while my right gripped my wand tightly, prepared to attack or defend as necessary.

As the room beyond became illuminated as the torches and candles lit automatically, all thoughts of fear were forgotten, replaced by numbed awe.

I was standing on the threshold of one of the most amazing rooms I had ever seen in my life. It looked to be a sitting room on a rather… large scale. It was oval in shape, probably twenty or thirty meters long and a little more than half that in width, strewn almost randomly with chairs, lounges, sofas, sofa tables and tea tables. The furniture looked to be mostly mahogany inset with what I was pretty sure was amaranth and gilded in silver or more likely platinum or palladium. The upholstery was in shades of green, largely emerald with some darker or lighter and a little black and rich brown thrown in for variety. It looked remarkably cozy despite everything being rich enough to suit the finest manor house. I couldn't help but feel an obscene urge to curl up on one of the lounges with a pile of good books and not move for a couple of days.

That scene, however, was nothing compared to what I found when I looked up. The "ceiling" was at least twenty-five meters above me, clear as glass, and showed a scene that I could only guess was the bottom of the Black Lake with faint moonlight from the gibbous moon casting somewhat eerie forms of fish or… something filtered through the shifting water. The walls, from floor to ceiling, were lined with bookshelves. Absolutely piled full bookshelves, a sight that literally brought tears to my eyes. Two broad balconies lined the walls around the circumference of the room at even intervals, and the space in the middle was sprinkled randomly with floating candles like in the great hall, though these looked to be dark green in color.

"Ah, welcome child," an unexpected voice almost made me scream. I flinched badly and gripped my wand more tightly as I scanned the room for the source of the voice.

"Above you, girl."

I took a step into the room while I spun and trained my wand on the voice. Only to find myself threatening a portrait.

Grimacing sheepishly, I slowly lowered my wand and took a couple more steps back to get a better look at the portrait. It was three meters tall and more than twice that in width, containing a life-sized man. He was lounged in a chair that would have fit right into the sitting room, the painted bookcase behind him looking remarkably like all the others, and the frame of the portrait colored just like the bookcases so that it very nearly looked like there was a real man sitting there instead of a portrait.

Fascinated, I studied the man. He was quite tall, slender, and with sharp features. His eyes were as black as Severus' eyes, and matched his blackest black hair, which was tied back at his neck elegantly. His nose was long and a bit sharp, but fit his features and gave him a rather aristocratic appeal. His chin was concealed beneath a long black goatee, plaited and threaded with black and dark green beads where it hung nearly long enough to brush his chest. He seemed to be about thirty, dressed in unrelieved black robes of an expensive and elegant – if antiquated – cut.

I realized that I'd been staring at him for a while, but he didn't seem to mind, as he seemed to have been staring at me with the same curious assessment.

"So you're the muggleborn who's such a credit to my house," he said thoughtfully.

My eyes widened and I had to force myself to close my mouth as I processed what he'd said. "You're Salazar Slytherin," I breathed rather dimly.

One elegant black eyebrow rose in strangely amused disdain.

I struggled to control my blush in response. "This was your room, then?" I asked.

A small nod was the reply.

"Um. Do you get visitors often?" I asked after a moment.

"You're the first since I died," he admitted almost absently.

My jaw dropped. "The first in a thousand years?"

"Do you think just anyone can get in here?" he asked, his frown questioning my intelligence.

"How come I could?" I inquired, ignoring his frown.

"Because I let you, of course."

"But why would you let me in here if you haven't let anyone else?" I pressed.

"Your magic intrigues me," he smirked. "Not many students have the power to shake the castle."

I blinked as I realized what he was talking about. "I can't possibly be the first in a thousand years to be that powerful," I argued.

His smirk grew a little, "But you're a lot more than merely powerful, aren't you, Hermione?"

All right, we didn't quite get to Hermione's wand, but still an interesting chapter, no?

Up next, more Salazar, and Lily's questions. Please take a moment to review. I appreciate each and every one, though I can't promise intelligible responses as ffnet seems to be suffering some issues in that arena presently.