Eyes of a Tiger

by LittleReporterGirl

Follow the story of young Abigail Abby Prewett through her days at Hogwarts. There is murder, loss, friendship, and, most importantly, love. If you liked my story "Dreams" you'll love this! Please Read and Review! I thrive off of reviews!

5. Year 5

Author's Note: Hello all! Sorry for the lack of updates, but my internet at home is gone. The people are supposed to be coming to install it, but that was what they said like 3 months ago, so who knows how long it'll be before I can update. I'm at school now and as this is the last day before Spring Break (and I am just now figuring out I can get on here) It will be at least a week before I can update. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this addition to Eyes of a Tiger. Please read and review! Thanks!

~TheVampyre13

YEAR 5

Snape was gone a lot that Summer. It he wasn't at Hogwarts, doing work for Dumbledore, then he was with the Dark Lord. He wouldn't tell me where he was going or what he was doing. Sometimes I would try and argue with him, but it always ended up with me breathless against the wall, betrayed by my hormones, and agreeing with whatever he said. If I was lucky, he would kiss me- on the forehead or the cheek. Never on the lips. He would never do anything so risky. He kept it borderline appropriate.

One night as I was about to fall asleep, I heard Snape get up. I got up and stuck my head out of my room. Snape was dressed and leaving his room.

"The Dark Lord is calling," he said simply.

"So late?"

Snape shrugged his shoulders.

"When are you coming back?" I inquired. Again he shrugged his shoulders. Annoyed, I went back into my room until I heard him leave.

I paced for a while, worrying and annoyed with him. Finally I decided to do something I had never dared to do before- enter his bedroom. I planned on waiting there for him to get home, and see how he reacted. Also, I really wanted to know what the inside of his room looked like. My heart pounding in fear and excitement, I opened his bedroom door.

Snape's bedroom was actually quite simple- a bed with a black bedspread, a nightstand, a wardrobe, and a writing desk. I prowled around the room slowly, taking in every detail, looking for something of interest.

When I reached the wardrobe I spotted something on top- a moving picture in a black frame. A younger version of Snape- maybe fifteen- had his arm around Lily, who looked beautiful in a yellow summer dress. Both were smiling and Lily was giggling as the Snape in the portrait kissed her cheek.

I felt a lump rise in my throat. I took out Snape's wand- he had begun taking mine and leaving his here so I wouldn't be defenseless. I made a copy of the photograph, folded it in half, and tucked it into my pocket. I decided I didn't want to wait in his room anymore. I left Snape's room as if I had never been there at all.

I went back to my room and flopped down on my bed. I stared at the picture of Lily for a while before tucking it safely underneath my pillow. I listened to the silence of the house, not wanting to sleep until I knew Snape was home safely. I covered myself with one of my satin sheets. Slowly, my eyes closed. I had forgotten to take my potion and I immediately started to dream…

I was standing in a dimly lit room. It looked like a hotel room. Lily was lying on the bed. She was wearing a short Muggle dress that showed a lot of cleavage. My throat was dry and it took me a moment to find my voice.

"L-Lily are you sure about this?" I asked her, "I mean we could-"

"Shh," she said, sitting up, "Of course I'm sure, Severus. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble."

I still felt a certain reluctance. She motioned me closer to the bed. I took a few anxious steps forward. She stood and kissed me passionately.

"What's wrong, Sev?" she whispered, her warm breath tickling my ear.

"It's just…I'm worried…that I won't meet your expectations," I said quickly, blushing.

"Oh Sev," she murmured, then kissed me again. Her hands clutched the front of my robes, pulling me towards the bed. Finally, I let myself go- I kissed her back, letting my hands run over her body eagerly.

She pulled me down onto the bed and I took over from there. I continued kissing her, pressing my leg between her thighs. I could feel the warmth between her legs through the thin dress. I slipped my hand beneath her dress and dragged my fingertips lightly across her breast, making goosebumps jump up over her skin. I trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone.

I sucked on her neck like a vampire, making her moan loudly. I slipped her dress quickly over her head. She looked so beautiful, so perfect, her red hair framing her face in waves. I resumed my trail of kisses down to her breasts, then to her stomach, then lower…

I awoke in a cold sweat. My sheets were soaked with sweat. I sat up, wrapping my sheet around myself. I was shivering. My dream had been overall disturbing. As of that moment, I decided the dreams had to stop.

"Abigail?" said a voice from the doorway, "Are you okay?"

It was Snape. He had probably just come home.

"J-just a dream," I stammered, trying hard not to think about what I had just seen, "I forgot to take my potion…"

"Will you tell me about it?" he asked, coming to sit on the edge of my bed, "Maybe I could help?"

"No…not tonight anyway…maybe tomorrow," I murmured, "…I have to make these dreams stop…"

"Well, at least take your potion now," he said, handing me the bottle from my nightstand. I inclined my head and took a swallow. Drowsiness washed over me immediately. Snape stood to leave, but I caught his arm.

"Could you stay with me until I fall asleep? …please?" I asked quietly, not caring that I sounded childish. He observed me silently a moment, then sat back down.

I curled up against Snape- he felt warm and comforting after my disturbing dream…or maybe it was just the potion. Snape took the bottle from me and set it back on my nightstand. He put on arm around me and stroked my hair absently. That was all it took for me to fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

I awoke a few hours later, feeling groggy. It was dark in my room, except for the starlight coming from my enchanted ceiling. I was lying with my head on Snape's chest.

"Abigail," he hissed quietly, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why'd you wake me up?" I asked sleepily.

"Well I awoke and you were…cold as ice. Like you were dead," he said, his voice sounding strained.

"Well it is called the Draught of Living Death, Severus," I said, laying my head back down on his chest, "I would expect you to know that, oh esteemed Potions Master."

"…of course. I guess I just overreacted," he said with a sigh, running his fingers through my hair, "I'm glad you're not dead…"

"Oh that's nice," I said dryly, "I'm glad you're not dead, too."

A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. I yawned sleepily and looked up to my enchanted ceiling. To my surprise, a meteor shower began. We watched it together in silence for a while.

There was only a sliver of moon visible in my enchanted sky, but it made me think of Lupin nonetheless.

"Had Dumbledore found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher yet?" I inquired curiously.

"Yes. Some woman from the Ministry," he replied.

"From the Ministry? Why did he choose her? After all the things the Ministry's been saying about Dumbledore in the newspapers?"

"The Ministry has the right to interfere at Hogwarts. There's really nothing Dumbledore can do about it."

"That sucks…"

We continued to watch the meteors streaking across my enchanted ceiling. A few minutes passed before either of us spoke again.

"Are you going to tell me about your dream?" he asked carefully. My heart skipped a beat. For a moment I had forgotten my dream. I sighed heavily.

"No."

"But I thought you said you were?"

"I changed my mind. I can deal with it myself."

"…Fine. If you change your mind again, let me know."

After a while I stopped watching the meteors and closed my eyes, letting sleepiness wash over me again.

"I have to chose the Slytherin Prefects out of the fifth years. Would you like to be a Prefect?" Snape asked me, unaware that I was almost asleep.

"No way," I replied without opening my eyes.

"Okay then. Any idea who I should pick?"

"Pick whoever you want."

"…How about Draco and Pansy?"

"I could really care less."

On the morning of September 1st Snape and I left for Hogwarts. I helped him sort some schedules out for a while and plan some lessons, but I soon became bored. I went and sat in the library, reading, until it was time for the feast.

When students started pouring into the Great Hall, Jenny came and sat with me. I saw Draco, with his shiny new Prefects badge gleaming on his chest, sitting next to Pansy Parkinson. They both sneered at me. I ignored them and watched as the Sorting started.

"Who do you reckon that is?" Jenny asked, nodding to a witch to the left of Dumbledore. It was a squat, short witch with curly brown hair. She wore a vivid pink cardigan and a pink headband. Her face resembled a toad.

"That must be the woman Snape was telling me about. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," I murmured.

"A teacher? The only way she could defend herself against the Dark Arts is by revolting it with her pink cardigan," Jen retorted in a low voice. I suppressed a snort of laughter. The Sorting Hat finished its song with something that alerted even me:

But this year I'll go further

Listen closely to my song:

Though condemned I am to split you

Still I worry that it's wrong,

Though I must fulfill my duty

And must quarter every year

Still I wonder whether Sorting

May not bring the end I fear.

Oh, know the perils, read the signs,

The warning history shows,

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external, deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I warned you…

Let the sorting now begin.

"What do you suppose that means?" Jenny asked as we applauded the hat's song along with everyone else.

"Sounded like a warning to me," I replied with a frown.

"A warning about what?"

I shrugged my shoulders and motioned for her to be silent as the sorting began.

When the Sorting was finally over, Dumbledore stood up for a few words of welcome before the feast.

"To our newcomers, welcome!" he said with a beaming smile, "To our old hands- welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

"So what did you do this Summer?" Jenny asked conversationally as we piled our plates with food.

"Eh, hung around the house mostly," I replied with a shrug.

When the last of the pudding had been devoured and the golden plates had cleaned themselves once more Dumbledore got to his feet.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students- and a few of our older students ought to know by now too," Dumbledore said with a pleasant smile, "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the 462 time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"We have two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a faint applause during which Professor Umbridge beamed at everyone.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-" Dumbledore continued but was interrupted as Professor Umbridge got to her feet with a quiet "hem, hem."

Almost all of the teachers, and most of the students, stared at her in astonishment. No one had ever interrupted Dumbledore during a speech before. Dumbledore sat down, however, and looked up with mild polite interest.

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Professor Umbridge, "for those kind words of welcome. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say. And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

No one that I could see looked particularly happy. They all looked taken aback.

"Oh honestly," Jen whispered fiercely, "We're not two years old."

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends," Umbridge said, still beaming, "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to this noble profession of teaching.

"Every Headmaster and Headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation. Because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited," Umbridge finished. She sat down to a scattered applause and Dumbledore stood up and resumed his talking.

"Well, that didn't sound too good," I said to Jen, ignoring Dumbledore's speech about Quidditch practices.

"What? I wasn't listening. It gave me a headache," she replied, looking up suddenly.

"I think things are going to change around here," I said slowly, "And I don't mean for the better."

When Dumbledore dismissed us, instead of following my fellow students to the dungeon Common Room, I made my way to Snape's office. He was sitting there, almost as if he were waiting for me.

"What was your first impression on Umbridge?" he asked me after I had shut the door behind myself.

"Her sense of style revolts me and I don't like the way she talks to us like we're children. I don't like her," I replied, sitting down.

"She's only here because the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts- the Minister thinks Dumbledore is building an army."

I let out a snort of laughter.

"Ridiculous," I muttered, shaking my head.

"Fudge doesn't think so."

The next morning our schedules were passed out I saw that the fifth-year Slytherins had Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing that morning. Although, to my pleasant surprise, we had double Potions right after that. I also had Divination, which was a drag, but also bound to be easy. I didn't have too much to worry about, except perhaps running out of ideas of horrible things to predict.

The Slytherins all ambled into her classroom, all looking equally disgusted to see the smiling teacher wearing that wretched pink cardigan. I stared intently down at my hands as I took a seat at the very back of the classroom.

"Good morning class!" she said in a cheery voice. A few people mumbled 'good morning' in response and I was not one of them.

"That won't do now, will it? I should like you all to try again, okay? Good morning, class!" she said loudly.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," we all said loudly, though mostly through gritted teeth.

"That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" she asked with a sweet smile, "Wands away and quills out, please."

As we all hastened to obey Professor Umbridge tapped the blackboard with her own wand. The words 'Defense Against the Dark Arts; A return to basic principles' appeared.

"Now, your teaching in this subject has been very fragmented, hasn't it? The constant changing of teachers, most of whom do not follow any Ministry-approved curriculum, has resulted in your being far below the standard we should expect to see in your O.W.L. year. You will all be pleased to know that these problems are now to be rectified. We will

follow a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

She rapped the blackboard and a second message appeared:

'Course Aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can be legally used

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.'

"Er, Professor? There's nothing up there about using Defensive Spells," I said before I could stop myself. A few people looked up curiously.

"Students will raise their hands in my classroom, Miss-?" she asked sweetly.

"Prewett. Abby Prewett," I replied.

"Well Miss Prewett, I can't imagine why you would feel the need to use a defensive spell in this classroom," she said, still sounding sugary. She turned her back on me to ensure that the conversation was over.

"What about for our O.W.L. exams?" I asked, alarmed, "Surely we need to know how to use defensive spells for that."

"You will raise your hand, Miss Prewett. Five points from Slytherin," she said, her voice losing its sugariness. I glanced around at my classmates who were all staring at me and didn't seem to care that I had lost us points. I saw this as incentive to continue my argument. I grudgingly raised my hand.

"What about our O.W.L. exams?" I repeated.

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," Umbridge replied.

"How can we use them without practicing?!" I demanded angrily.

"Do not raise your voice in my classroom, Miss Prewett," she said in a soft voice that didn't sound at all threatening. At least, not as threatening as Snape when he spoke in that tone of voice.

"I repeat," she said, "The Ministry thinks that as long as you have studied hard enough-"

"So the first time we're going to use magic is when the exams come, is it?" I said coldly.

"I think you could do with a detention, Miss Prewett. This evening at five o'clock. My office. That will teach you to raise your hand, not your voice, in my classroom. Now, everyone open their books to chapter one and begin reading silently."

I left the classroom a short while later, fuming and scowling to myself. I had never gotten a detention before, and I wasn't particularly looking forward to it. I lined up outside of Snape's classroom with the others, thinking that at least I had a good 2 hours of Potion brewing to help clear my mind. Snape opened the door to let us all inside. I took my usual seat at the front of the classroom.

"Settle down," said Snape icily to those who were still talking when he had shut the door behind us. I watched him attentively as he made his way to the front of the classroom.

"Before we begin today's lesson I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L. or suffer my…displeasure," he said coolly, his gaze lingering on Neville who gulped. I suppressed a smirk as I continued to listen.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape continued, "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye."

His gaze lingered this time on Potter, who looked as though he would like nothing more than to give up Potions class right here and now.

"But we have another happy year to go before that happy moment of farewell," Snape said softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: The Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method are on the blackboard. You will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half…start."

I read the instructions twice before going to gather my ingredients from the store cupboard.

"What's bothering you, Abigail?" asked Snape's voice in my head as I sat back down and began to measure ingredients. I thought carefully before answering.

I got a detention with Umbridge.

"What for?"

Losing my temper. We won't be using magic in Defense Against the Dark Arts at all this year. How does she expect us to pass our O.W.L.s?

"You lost your temper? But you always seem so…collected."

So it would seem, but every time I even think of Umbridge I get the urge to curse her…or poison her, I added as an afterthought, glancing at the various vials of potions on the shelf above his desk.

"Probably it's best not to poison a teacher."

Then he withdrew from my mind so I could start my potion.

When there were ten minutes left to go Snape stood up and began to sweep around the room, inspecting potions.

"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion," he said. I looked down at my potion with pride. A light silver mist shimmered over the surface of my potion. Around the dungeon, various potions were emitting sparks or thick, poisonous fumes. Snape stopped by Potter's cauldron, which was emitting a thick, grey smoke which smelled of rotten eggs. Snape smirked slightly.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?" he asked. Almost everyone looked around, eager to see Snape taunting Potter.

"The Draught of Peace," Potter replied anxiously.

"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"

Draco laughed loudly but I kept my laughter quiet.

"Yes, I can," retorted Potter, clenching his fist around his wand.

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."

Potter squinted at the blackboard through the thick haze of steam in the classroom.

" 'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.'" Potter read aloud.

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?" Snape asked.

"No," he replied quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," Potter said loudly, "I forgot the hellebore…"

"I know you did Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco."

He cleared away Potter's useless potion and made his way back to his desk before addressing the class once more.

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing," Snape said, "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

As I filled a flagon full of my wonderful potion I was already thinking of the various potion-making uses for moonstones. Used to achieve emotional balance. Found in many different colors…I thought to myself as I walked up to Snape's desk to hand him my flagon.

"No need to think so hard, Abigail," he said in my mind, smirking as I handed him the potion.

Our eyes met and for a moment I was held spellbound. The moment was broken, however, by the sound of shattering glass as Goyle's potion exploded in his flagon and set his robes on fire. He was stomping the flames anxiously.

"Aguamenti," I said lazily, pointing my wand at the flames.

When it came time to serve my detention, I considered not going, in an act of defiance. …That would probably get me in more trouble though, I thought as I walked up a flight of stairs towards her office, best just to get it over with.

I knocked on Umbridge's door.

"Come in," she said in a sugary sweet voice. I pushed the door open reluctantly and looked around.

The office looked completely unrecognizable as a room that had once been inhabited by Lupin. In his day, there was always some dark creature or other in a cage or tank. Now, however, the surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were cases full of dried flowers. On one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large Technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. Umbridge herself was sitting at her desk. She smiled widely when I entered, looking more toad like than ever.

"Well hello Miss Prewett. Have a seat," said Umbridge, gesturing to a small, lace-covered desk. There was a piece of parchment lying next to a strange quill.

Lines, I thought to myself, …I guess it could be worse.

I took a seat, picked up the quill, and looked around.

"You haven't given me any ink, Professor," I said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you won't be needing any," she replied lightly, "Now, I want you to write 'I must control my temper'."

"How many times?"

"I'll let you know when you may stop."

I put the quill to the parchment and started to write. The words appeared in shining red ink. I felt a sharp pain in my right hand. I put down the quill and pulled my glove off. The words I had just written had been cut into my already scarred hand. The cuts shone a moment, then healed.

"Anything wrong, dear?" Umbridge asked innocently. I jerked my glove back down and picked up the evil quill again.

"Nothing at all, Professor," I retorted, teeth clenched.

"Good. Carry on, then, Miss Prewett."

About a half hour of silence later my glove was soaked in blood and my hand was throbbing.

"I came across an interesting tidbit of information earlier today, concerning you, Miss Prewett," Umbridge said to me.

"Oh?" I said without looking at her, my eyes fixated on the words on the page.

"Indeed. I heard that Severus Snape is your legal guardian."

"…So?"

"Very peculiar. He's not related to you, is he?" she said musingly, "…and one can't help but wonder what happen to your parents?"

"No he's not related to me. He was my mother's best friend and she's dead," I spat at her. I was clenching my fists, which only made my hand hurt and bleed more profusely.

"But he's so much older than you. Some would deem the situation could turn…inappropriate," she said smoothly.

"How dare you, you foul, evil-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you, Miss Prewett. You see, I've got good contacts within the Ministry and I can make myself the top investigator into your case. So I suggest you watch your step, and keep your temper in check."

I looked down at the bloody words on the parchment and continued to write, anger and hatred boiling inside of me.

When Umbridge finally allowed me to leave, there was a small puddle of blood underneath the chair I had been sitting in. I couldn't feel my hand an I felt light-headed just standing up. I managed to make it out the door without passing out. Worried I had lost too much blood, I made my way carefully down to Snape's office.

He was sitting at his desk, grading papers, but stood when I entered the room, as if he had sensed something was seriously wrong.

"What happened, Abigail?" he demanded as I slumped into the nearest chair.

"Detention with Umbridge," I said grimly. He strode over to me and lifted my injured hand. I winced slightly as he pulled off my blood-soaked glove. He stared wordlessly at my hand for a moment. Then he walked over to the nearest shelf. He looked around a moment, then grabbed a bottle. He conjured up a bowl, then dumped the potion into it and handed it to me.

"Put your hand in it," he instructed.

"I'm not sure I want to," I said, eyeing the strange liquid cautiously.

"What are you, a masochist? Put your hand into it. It's an essence of murtlap tentacles."

I put my hand into the yellow liquid tentatively and it felt better almost instantly.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, which was fine with me. I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him what Umbridge had told me. His emotions were closed off to me, but I could tell he was thinking hard about something.

"We need to go report her to Dumbledore right away," he said finally.

"No, we can't!" I exclaimed, getting to my feet.

"Why not?"

"We just can't, okay?"

"Abigail, if the students families knew about this, they-"

"Well I haven't got one of those, have I?" I retorted coldly. I walked over to a wall and kicked it to vent some frustration. When I turned around, Snape was standing surprising close to me. I took an automatic step backwards, pressing my back against the wall.

"You have me," he said quietly. I was speechless for a minute and Snape took a step backwards.

"Yeah because we are so a family," I said, rolling my eyes, "…and you shouldn't do that."

"What?" he asked, faintly amused.

"Take advantage of my hormones to get me to agree with you," I said haughtily. He half-smiled. I scowled at him and sat down, returning my still-bleeding hand to the bowl. Snape's smile faded.

"Now, will you come with me to see Dumbledore?" he asked me.

"I can't, Sev," I said. He looked mildly surprised at my use of his nickname.

"…Why not?" he asked after a brief moment of silence.

"Because…because Umbridge could have me taken away!" I exclaimed.

I quickly told Snape everything that Umbridge had told me. When I finished talking, his face had gone very pale.

"We'll have to be careful this year," he said heavily, "That means no sneaking out to see me…probably better if you don't sneak out at all."

I scoffed at him.

"Abigail, I'm serious. And you'll have to be nice to Umbridge…we both will," he said through clenched teeth.

"How can I be nice to someone I hate?" I demanded.

"If I can do it, you can do it," was all he said.

I went to my dormitory, feeling exhausted and annoyed. I'd left the Essence of Murtlap in Snape's office. He had bandaged my hand for me and cleaned my glove using magic. I had put my glove back on, though he had advised me not to. I sighed heavily as I crawled into bed, my hand throbbing. I knew Umbridge was going to be trouble.

By the next morning, the blood had soaked through the bandages on my hand and soaked my glove again. I re-bandaged my hand, this time leaving my glove off. A few times throughout the day, the blood would soak through and I'd leave whatever class I was in to go to the bathroom and change the bandages. After my last class of the day, I went up to the Owlery and wrote a letter to Lupin. I told him all about Umbridge and her detention. He never wrote me back.

As a week passed, my hand healed poorly. Eventually I was left with more bad scars on my already-mutilated hand. I was glad I already had gloves to wear. A few days later, I saw in the newspaper that Dolores Umbridge had been appointed Hogwarts "High Inquisitor" which meant she was going to be making investigations into the different classes. I walked into Snape's class the day I read that, expecting her to be there, but she wasn't. I did want to talk to Snape about the news, however.

When we walked into the classroom and sat down Snape started to hand out the essay we had turned in on moonstones.

"I have awarded you to grades you would have received if you presented this work in your O.W.L.," said Snape with a smirk as he swept among the students, handing out essays, "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination."

Snape reached the front of the class and handed me my essay, which had a large black O for 'Outstanding' in the corner. Top marks again.

"The general standard of this homework was abysmal," Snape said to the class, "Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get D's."

"Some people got D's? Ha!" sniggered Malfoy in a carrying whisper. Snape smirked.

Did you give Potter a D, Severus? I thought, prodding his mind and smirking also.

"He deserved a D. His essay was Dreadful," he replied.

As I started to work on today's assignment, which was a Strengthening Solution, I asked Snape what he thought about Umbridge becoming 'High Inquisitor'.

"I'm surprised she wasn't in here today," he remarked, "She sent me a notice saying that she will be attending next week's lesson, however."

Sounds fun, I thought dryly, Maybe I'll conveniently fall ill…

"Don't even think about ditching. If I have to deal with her, so do you."

Snape and I were careful not to be seen together by Umbridge. He insisted I not make any trips to his office. With no one to talk to, I spent most of my time in the library, reading. I would occasionally see Hermione Granger there. On one such afternoon, I saw her researching different solutions for injuries. A quick peek in her mind told me she was searching for something to help Potter's hand feel better. It was widely known that Harry Potter was frequently given detention by Umbridge.

"Try an Essence of Murtlap Tentacles," I said quietly to her. She didn't say anything, but inclined her head without looking up from her book.

Through a stroke of luck, I overheard two Ravenclaw boys talking about a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group that was going to be held at the Hog's Head during the next Hogsmeade visit. They said Potter was going to be teaching it and it was strictly anti-Umbridge. Intrigued, I decided to check out this group. No doubt being a Slytherin would make them not let me join, so I stole a set of Ravenclaw robes out of the laundry. On the morning of the Hogsmeade visit, I put my hair in pigtails, something I never did. I altered my appearance slightly with magic- I made both my eyes blue, made my nose a little smaller, changed my mouth…not even Snape would have recognized me.

I followed a small crowd of students into the Hog's Head, feeling nervous. What if I was recognized? What if one of the other Ravenclaws pointed out that they had never seen me before? When we walked into the dusty bar, the barman froze in the act of wiping a glass with a dirty rag. One of the Weasley twins walked over to the bar.

"Hi," he said, counting heads quickly, "Could we have…twenty-five butterbeers, please?"

The barman glared at him a minute, then threw down his rag and started passing up dusty bottles of butterbeer.

"Cheers," said the Weasley, "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these…"

I handed over some of my money and accepted a butterbeer. Slowly, everyone took seats and turned their attention on Potter. I could sense his nervousness from all the way at the end of the table, where I sat.

"Er," said Hermione Granger, her voice higher than usual, "Well- er- hi."

The group focused their attention on her instead.

"Well…erm…well, you know why you're here. Erm…well, Harry here had the idea- I mean- I had the idea- that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts- and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us- because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione said, her voice slowly becoming stronger, "Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

She paused, looked sideways at Potter, and continued.

"And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells-"

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., too though, I bet?" said a boy from the crowd.

"Of course I do," said Hermione at once, "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because…because…" she took a deep breath, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."

There was an immediate reaction in the crowd. A blonde girl shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself. A few people shuddered. Neville Longbottom let out a yelp that he turned into a cough. I silently applauded Potter's courage…or stupidity.

"Well…that's the plan anyway," said Granger, "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to-"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" asked a blonde Hufflepuff.

"Well Dumbledore believes it-" Granger began.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," said the boy.

"Who are you?" asked Ron Weasley rather rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," intervened Granger, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about-"

"It's okay, Hermione," said Potter, looking Smith straight in the face, "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Everyone was silent as Potter spoke.

"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts," Smith said dismissively, "He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Cedric Diggory got murdered. I think we'd all like to know-"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Potter said, temper rising, "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So, if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

He looked at Granger angrily, as if it were all her fault. No one left their seats, however, not even Smith.

"So," said Granger, her voice still high-pitched, "So…like I was saying…if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to-"

"Is it true," interrupted a Hufflepuff girl, "that you can produce a Patronus?"

There was murmur of interest around the group at this and even I looked up curiously.

"Yeah," said Potter, slightly defensive.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er- you don't know Madam Bones, do you?"

"She's my auntie," the girl replied with a smile, "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So- is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," said Potter.

"Blimey, Harry!" said an older Gryffindor boy, "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said one of the older Weasleys, "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Potter. A few people chuckled, myself included. I had always known Potter wasn't as bad as Snape made him out to be.

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" asked a Ravenclaw boy, "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year…"

"Er- yeah, I did, yeah," said Potter. A few people made impressed noises.

"And in our first year," said Neville Longbottom, "he saved that Sorcerous Stone-"

"Sorcerer's," hissed Hermione Granger.

"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who," finished Longbottom.

"And that's not to mention," said a pretty Ravenclaw girl, "all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year- getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things…"

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table. Potter looked embarrassed and flattered.

"Look," he said when everyone had quieted down, "I…I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but…I had a lot of help with all that stuff…"

"Not with the dragon you didn't," said a boy, "That was a seriously cool bit of flying…"

"Yeah, well-"

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," said Susan Bones.

"No," said Potter, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is-"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Smith.

"Here's an idea," said Ron Weasley loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," Smith said, flushing.

"That's not what he said," snarled one of the older Weasley's.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired his twin, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside a bag.

"Or any other part of your body, really, we're not fussy about where we stick this," added the other.

"Yes, well," said Granger hastily, "moving on…the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Smith folded his arms and said nothing.

"Right," said Granger, sounding relieved, "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week-"

"Hang on," said an older Gryffindor girl, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said the pretty Ravenclaw girl, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Smith.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Granger impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters-"

"Well said!" barked a Hufflepuff boy, "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!"

He paused a moment and looked around, as if expecting someone to contradict him. When no one did, he continued.

"I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells-"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Granger, "is that she's got some…some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

Almost everyone else seemed surprised by this information. Nail on the head, Granger, I thought to myself.

"Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius fudge has got his own private army," piped up a mystical-looking Ravenclaw girl.

"What?" said Potter, completely thrown.

"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," said the girl solemnly.

"No, he hasn't," snapped Granger.

"Yes he has."

"What are heliopaths?" asked Neville Longbottom, looking as confused as I felt.

"They're spirits of fire," the girl said, her eyes widening, "great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground, burning everything in front of-"

"They don't exist, Neville," said Granger tartly.

"Oh yes they do!" said the Ravenclaw girl angrily.

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" snapped Granger.

"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you-"

"Hem, hem," said a pretty red-haired girl in a good imitation of Professor Umbridge. A few people looked around, alarmed, then laughed uneasily. I was a bit captivated with how pretty the red-haired girl was, however. She had freckles and deep brown eyes. She had to be a Weasley…but she was gorgeous.

"Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?" asked the Weasley girl.

"Yes," said Granger at once, "yes, we were, you're right…

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said an older Gryffindor boy.

"As long as-" began the older Gryffindor girl.

"Yes, yes, we knock about Quidditch," said Granger tensely, "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet…"

This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.

"Library?" suggested a girl.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Potter.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" someone suggested.

"Yeah," said Ron Weasley, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard…"

"Right well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Granger, "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

Granger rummaged around her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill.

"I- I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also thing," she said, taking a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge- or anybody else- what we're up to."

One of the Weasley twins gladly put his name down.

"Er…" said Smith, "Well…I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

But the boy he nodded at was looking reluctant as well.

"I- well, we are prefects," said the boy, "And if this list was found…well, I mean to say…you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out…"

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Potter reminded him.

"I- yes," said the boy, "yes, I do believe that, it's just…"

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave this list lying around?" said Granger testily.

"No. No, of course not," he said, looking slightly less anxious, "I- yes, of course I'll sign."

I considered what to do while the list made its way around the group of students. I quickly decided that using a fake name would be best. I thought hard and when the list came to me, I wrote down Elizabeth Evans. It was the only thing I could think of. Also, the use of Lily's last name gave me a certain warm feeling inside.

The group dissolved quickly after that and I went for a walk around Hogsmeade by myself. I dipped into the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks to re-alter my appearance. As I walked around, browsing the different shops, I wondered if I should tell Snape about the secret Anti-Umbridge group I had joined. After a while, I decided not to tell him about it. After all, he was keeping secrets from me about what he was doing for the Dark Lord and what he was doing for Dumbledore's group, that called themselves The Order of the Phoenix. Besides, I thought glumly, he doesn't want anything to do with me since Umbridge started poking her fat nose where it doesn't belong.

On Monday afternoon I arrived outside of the Potions classroom in time to hear Malfoy talking loudly, taunting Potter.

"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry…it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?" Draco was saying, letting his voice carry so it was sure to be heard by the Gryffindors who were coming down the stairs.

"I mean," Draco continued, raising his voice a little more, "if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance. …From what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years…and as for Potter…My father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's…apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic…"

Draco made a grotesque face that resembled a zombie. I was about to laugh when I saw Neville Longbottom charge at Draco. If Potter and Weasley hadn't held him back Longbottom probably would have plowed into Draco and knocked him over. As it was Potter was holding him tight and Crabbe and Goyle were flexing their muscles menacingly.

"Not…funny…don't…Mungo's….show…him…" Longbottom snarled. The door opened just then and Snape walked out. His eyes fell upon Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom.

"Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?" he asked in his cold voice, "Ten points from Gryffindor. Release Longbottom, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you."

I followed Snape into the classroom without looking back and I sat down at my usual desk and pulled out parchment, quills, and my book.

"You will notice," Snape said to the class in a low, sneering voice, "that we have a guest with us today."

He gestured vaguely towards the dim corner of the classroom and I looked around to see Umbridge sitting in the corner with her clipboard. I nearly dropped my book.

"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend- instructions are on the board. Carry on," Snape said, flicking his wand at the blackboard so the instructions appeared there.

I concentrated solely on my potion, completely ignoring Umbridge in the corner, scratching away on her clipboard. 30 minutes into the lesson, however, she stood up and walked over to Snape who was leaning over a cauldron, inspecting a potion. I couldn't ignore her then. I was too curious.

"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," she said briskly, "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."

Snape stood up slowly and turned around to face her, his expression unreadable.

"Now…how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" Umbridge asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.

"Fourteen years," Snape replied, his voice emotionless.

"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?"

"Yes," he replied quietly.

"But you were unsuccessful?"

"Obviously," he said, his lip curled in a slight sneer.

"And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"

"Yes," he said, barely moving his lips.

"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?"

"I suggest you ask him," he said irritably.

"Oh I shall."

"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed in a way that sent chills up my spine.

"Oh yes. Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of the teachers'-er- backgrounds…"

Umbridge walked over to Parkinson and began to question her about the lessons. When she was finished with Parkinson she walked over to me. Snape was over near Potter, his back turned.

"What do you think of this class, Miss Prewett?" Umbridge asked sweetly.

"It's my favorite class," I replied calmly, reaching for a vial of salamander blood to add to my potion.

"Is it? And you don't find the potions too difficult?" she inquired as if she were talking to a three-year old.

"Oh, not at all," I said reverently, "I like challenging things."

"Do you? That's nice dear. Would you say Professor Snape gives you…preferential treatment, due to his being your guardian?"

She was egging me on, I knew it. That didn't stop me from squeezing the vial of Salamander Blood so hard it broke. Luckily, the bell rang at that exact moment and Umbridge didn't notice the broken bottle because it was underneath the table. She told Snape he would receive the results of his examination within a few days time, then she swept out of the dungeon. I grit my teeth until the other students had left, then put my hand on top of my desk. I carefully pulled off my glove. There were shards of glass embedded in my hand. My gloves were ripped in a few places.

"What happened?" Snape asked, walking over to me, "What did she say?"

"Nothing of great importance," I muttered, wincing as I pulled a large shard of glass out of my hand. I went and ran my bleeding hand under the water at the sink. I bandaged my hand myself, then left without saying another word to Snape.

A few days later, I was scanning the minds of the group that had met in the Hog's Head when I found exactly the information I had been looking for. The next meeting was to be held that night at 8:00. At a little after 7, I changed my appearance, changed my robes, and left the Slytherin Common room to head up to the 7th floor.

I met up with a group of Gryffindors which included the pretty Weasley sister, whose name, I found out, was Ginny. There were also a few students I recognized from my usual classes, but who didn't recognize me- Neville Longbottom, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Dean Thomas. I followed them into a strange room on the 7th floor that I had never noticed before. It was a spacious room, lit by flickering torches just like in the dungeons I inhabited. The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, all filled with books about Defense Against the Dark Arts. To me, it felt especially homey.

Instead of chairs, there were silk cushions to sit on. By eight o'clock, all of the cushions were occupied. Potter strode across the room and locked the door. Then he turned to face the group.

"Well," said Potter nervously, "This is the place we've found for practices, and you've- er- obviously found it okay-"

"It's fantastic!" exclaimed the pretty Ravenclaw girl. Several people murmured their agreement.

"It's bizarre," said Fred Weasley, "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then…"

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Thomas from the rear of the room, indicating a few weird objects.

"Dark Detectors," said Potter, walking towards them, "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled…"

Potter stared into the glass at the shadowy, unrecognizable figures moving around in it. A moment later he turned his back on it.

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and- er-" Potter noticed a raised hand, "What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," Granger said.

"Harry's leader," said the pretty Ravenclaw girl, looking at Granger as if she had gone mad.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," she said, unperturbed, "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So- everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

Everybody put up their hands, including myself. Harry Potter was the obvious choice for a leader- he had been through more than any of us.

"Er- right, thanks," said Potter, blushing, "And- what, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," she said brightly, "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" asked an older Gryffindor girl hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred Weasley.

"I was thinking," said Granger, frowning, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" suggested the pretty Ravenclaw, "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," said Ginny, "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

A few people chuckled appreciatively and most everyone nodded their agreement.

"All in favor of the D.A.?" said Granger bossily, counting, "That's a majority- motion passed!"

She pinned the piece of paper with all of the names on it on the wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY across the top.

"Right," said Potter once Granger had sat down again, "shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful-"

"Oh please," said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes, "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

This was what I had been thinking, as well.

"I've used it against him," said Potter quietly, "It saved my life last June."

Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was silent.

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave."

Smith didn't move. Nor did I or anyone else.

"Okay," continued Potter, "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

People stood up and started trying to find a partner. I was paired with Ernie Macmillan, a self-obsessed Hufflepuff boy who had spoken up a lot during the first meeting.

"Right," said Potter when everyone had partners, "On the count of three, then- one, two, three-"

The room was filled with cries of Expelliarmus. The Hufflepuff boy spent too much time flourishing his wand and I knocked it from his hand instantly. I watched as, a few feet away, Zacharias Smith opened his mouth to disarm his opponent and his own wand flew out of his hand. This happened twice more before I noticed Fred and George Weasley taking turns pointing their wands at Smith's back. I laughed, amused, and gave them a thumbs up. They both grinned back at me.

An hour or so later Potter blew a whistle, everybody ceased shouting Expelliarmus,and the last few wands clattered to the floor.

"Well, that was pretty good," said Potter, "but we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Sooner!" said Dean Thomas eagerly and many people nodded in agreement.

"The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices too!" a Gryffindor girl said quickly.

"Let's say next Wednesday night, then," said Potter," and we can decide on additional meetings then…Come on, we'd better get going…"

He pulled out a piece of parchment I recognized as the Marauder's Map that Lupin had confiscated from him in our 3rd year. He had apparently given it back. Instead of leaving with the Ravenclaws, I silently cast my Disillusionment Charm and waited for everyone else to leave. I was sure that, if I left the room, Potter would see my name and realize something. When everyone else was gone, I prowled around the room, which was called the Room of Requirement, a bit longer. I picked a few books off the shelf and took them with me to read.

By our fourth meeting, Hermione Granger had devised a clever way of letting us all know when the next meeting was. When everyone was seated during the next meeting, she gave each of us a fake Galleon.

"You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?" she said, holding one up, "On real Galleons that's just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow how when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because I've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimic his."

A blank silence greeted her words and she looked disconcerted.

"Well- I thought it was a good idea," she said uncertainly, "I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But…well, if you don't want to use them…"

"You can do a Protean Charm?" said a Ravenclaw boy.

"Yes."

"But that's…that's N.E.W.T. standard, that is," he said weakly.

"Oh," said Granger, trying to look modest, "Oh…well…yes, I suppose it is…"

"How come you're not in Ravenclaw?" the boy demanded, staring at her in wonder, "With brains like yours?"

"Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting," she said brightly, "but it decided on Gryffindor in the end. So does that mean we're using the Galleons?"

There a murmur of assent and everybody moved forward to collect one from the basket.

"You know what this reminds me of?" I heard Potter ask Granger.

"No, what?" was her response.

"The Death Eater's scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and they know they've got to join him."

"Well…yes," said Granger quietly, "That is where I got the idea…but you'll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our members' skin…"

"Yeah…I prefer your way," said Potter, grinning, "I suppose the only danger with these is that we might accidentally spend them."

"Fat chance," said Ron Weasley, examining his Galleon, "I haven't got any real Galleons to confuse it with."

"It's a fair good bit of magic," I complimented Granger as I slipped my coin into my pocket.

"Thanks," she said, smiling.

The D.A. meetings continued regularly and we practiced things like the Impediment Jinx and the Reductor Curse, neither of which was very challenging for me. As the end of October drew near, the weather took a turn for the worse. The morning of my birthday, I awoke early to the sound of howling wind and rain. The rain did nothing to dampen my spirits, however, and I got out of bed, grinning- I was now sixteen years old. I plopped down beside the pile of presents at the foot of my bed and proceeded to open them. From my friends, I had the usual assortment of candies. I opened my anonymous gift from Snape, which contained a new book, Hexes for the Vexed by Rafael Knodel. I skimmed the book a moment before moving on to my last gift, which was from Lupin. The gift was a bouquet of roses that looked as if they had just been picked. I read the note that had come with them.

Abby,

Happy Birthday! These are never-wilting flowers. You don't even have to put them in water. They'll never die. I am sorry I have not been writing you as often as I would like. I have been busy. I cannot tell you about what I am doing, however, in case this owl is intercepted. I have to run. Happy Birthday. Your friend,

Moony

I was disappointed that this letter didn't tell me why he hadn't been writing. 'Busy'…I wondered what he meant by that. I put the never-wilting roses in a vase on my bedside table and sighed. I sat down cross-legged on my bed and proceeded to read Hexes for the Vexed.

When I went down to lunch later on, I saw Arsenius flying around outside, a note tied to his leg. I called him into the hall and took the note from him. It was from Snape.

Abigail,

Happy Birthday. Come down to the Potion's classroom at 8 o'clock tonight. I have a surprise for you.

I folded the note and tucked it into my pocket. I looked up to the teacher's table, but Snape wasn't there. How odd, I thought to myself, We've barely spoken in weeks and now he sends me a strange note? I wonder what he's up to?

It took a lot of willpower to stay awake that night after the magnificent feast. I sat in a chair by the fireplace, reading and nodding off, until almost eight o'clock. Then I forced myself to get to my feet and go down to the Potions classroom. When I pushed the door open, I froze.

The desks had all been pushed against the walls, out of the way. A small cloud of live bats flew around the room. There was also food, which looked to be leftovers from the feast. Brandy, Jenny, and Snape all greeted me with 'Happy Birthday!'. I smiled at them…then I saw there was a fourth person in the room- shabby robes, grayish hair-

"Moony!" I exclaimed, rushing forward. Lupin swept me into a quick hug, and then released me. He took my hand and kissed it, in a charming sort of way.

"Happy Sweet Sixteen, Abby," he said to me, smiling a wolfish smile.

"Thanks, Moony…what're you doing here?" I asked curiously.

"It's your birthday. Severus threw you a little party. Turns out you don't have many friends and I'm one of them," he replied, winking at me, "Hard to believe it's been so long since I last saw you."

He looked me over and smiled.

We stood around a while, eating and talking. When Jenny and Brandy announced they were off to bed at 9:00, Lupin glanced at his watch.

"I should probably be leaving soon as well," he said, "Would you like to go for a short walk with me, Abby?"

"Of course," I said, then glanced quickly at Snape, "I'll be back."

He inclined his head and said nothing.

I followed Lupin outside, keeping an eye out for Umbridge. We walked down towards the lake, keeping to the shadows. Lupin stopped and sat down in the grass and motioned for me to sit down also.

"So where have you been?" I asked curiously, "I haven't heard from you in ages…You never even wrote me back about Umbridge."

"I'm sorry, Abby. I've been busy helping the Order-"

"Too busy to write?" I demanded, suddenly very annoyed with him. Guilt flashed across his face.

"I'm sorry, but Dumbledore says there's a high risk of any letters being intercepted by the Ministry. I wanted to tell you not to worry about Umbridge. Just ignore her. Don't let her provoke you."

"Yeah, I've already been told that. …forget about Umbridge. She is not so important at the moment. I want to know what you've been up to with the Order."

"What…what all has Severus told you about the Order of the Phoenix?" Lupin asked carefully. I stared at the ground moodily, feeling more anger rise to the surface. I shoved my anger aside and morphed into tiger form so my emotions would be simpler.

"He hasn't told me anything," I growled, laying my head on my paws, "He says he wants me to be as far away from anything to do with the Dark Lord as possible…that includes the Order, I guess. Besides, Severus and I haven't been speaking much lately…"

"Why not?" Lupin asked me gently.

"Umbridge, I suppose. She…she works for the Ministry. She said she made inquiries on our case and…if she sees anything she deems inappropriate, she could have me removed from his custody," I said quietly.

"…What did Severus have to say about it?"

"He said it was best if I kept my distance from him at school, so I don't get to see him hardly at all and we don't talk like we used to. It seems like he doesn't care too much… "

"And yet he planned a party for your Sweet Sixteen."

I fell silent for a moment, considering this. Lupin was looking up at the moon, which was only half-full. He reached out absently and scratched behind my ears, as one would a dog. It felt amazing. I closed my eyes and began to purr loudly.

"I suppose I could tell you about the Order…but I wouldn't want to do anything to go against Severus," he murmured.

"I wouldn't dream of asking you to risk your long-standing friendship with him," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Lupin smiled and shook his head.

"As you know, the Ministry has been trying to convince people that Voldemort isn't back and that Dumbledore is…well…"

"A crackpot old fool?" I suggested.

"Well, technically, yes. Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort is trying to build up his army- in the old days, he had giants, goblins, dragons…werewolves. So we're trying to convince as many people as we can that Voldemort is back and to stop him from achieving his plans."

"How do you know what his plans are?"

"Well Dumbledore has a hunch…and Severus is also a very useful asset," Lupin replied, "I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more than that."

"I guess Severus is pretty important to the Order…" I murmured quietly. Lupin hesitated a moment, then resumed scratching my ears.

"You should be proud of him," he said, "You know, I heard him talking to Dumbledore a few months ago…I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I'm sure neither of them was aware I overheard, but…Snape wanted to quit the Order, run from Voldemort…to keep you safe."

My voice caught in my throat for a moment. I swallowed heavily.

"H-he…what did Dumbledore say?" I asked, voice strained.

"That the safest thing was for him to keep doing what he's doing. If he tries to back out now, Voldemort would send people after him…to kill you both."

My ears flicked back and I lifted my head to stare out over the lake. Snape would have given up everything…for me…

Lupin checked his watch again and got to his feet.

"Abby, I really must get going. I'm already late. Shall I walk you back up to the castle?" he asked. Tail twitching playfully, I got to my paws. Keeping my claws sheathed, I pounced at him and knocked him down.

"Oof," he said as I landed on top of him. He tried half-heartedly to push me off, but tigers tend to weigh a lot.

"I don't want you to go," I said sadly, "…at least you talk to me and tell me things."

"But I have to go, Abby…"

"Will I ever see you again?"

"Of course you will! …I'll try and write. I'll have to be careful though," he replied slowly.

"But…what if something bad happens?" I murmured quietly. Lupin didn't say anything for a moment, but observed me silently. I morphed back into human form and got to my feet. I started to turn back to the castle, but Lupin grabbed my hand and turned me to look me in the eye. He touched my cheek gently and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"You worry to much," he said to me. I looked up towards the castle, then looked back at him and smiled.

"You don't have to walk me back up to the castle…but if you don't write me, I will hunt you down."

"Don't worry," he said, laughing, "I've felt the sting of your claws before and I've got the scars to prove it. I'm not eager to cross you again."

When Lupin left, I walked back up to the castle and back down to the Potions classroom. The desks were back in place and the food was gone. Snape was sitting at his desk, staring absently at the ceiling where a cloud of bats still fluttered. I sat down and looked up at the bats also.

"Where did you get the bats?" I inquired after a moment.

"I stole them from the Great Hall after the feast," he replied, "…what did you and Lupin talk about?"

"Hm…Umbridge, the Order, …you."

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"It was nothing bad," I assured him, "…I can't believe you invited him here, for me."

"I thought you would like to see him. He's your friend, after all…and it is my fault he's gone…"

"Really? I had no idea," I said sarcastically, then half-smiled.

"You aren't mad?"

"Oh, Severus…I forgave you for that a long time ago," I replied, still smiling. He was silent a moment, then looked at his watch.

"You should get to bed, Abigail. If Umbridge catches you out this late…"

I scoffed, but stood to leave. He was right, after all. To my surprise, he stood also. He walked around to the other side of his desk.

"Happy Birthday, Abigail," he said quietly, then kissed my hand and whispered, "…I can be charming, too."

Blushing slightly, I hurried out of the classroom with a smile on my face.

November passed by in a blur and before I knew it, it was time for the Christmas holidays. Something happened the last day of term and Potter and some of his friends disappeared before the holidays had technically started. Snape, of course, wouldn't tell me anything, but I heard Umbridge shrieking furiously at Dumbledore the next morning.

"Students aren't supposed to leave the school," she said furiously to him at breakfast.

"It's the holidays, my dear woman," Dumbledore said with a smile, but there was a hard gleam in his blue eyes that told me he disliked Umbridge as much as any of us.

That night, though I took my sleeping potion, I started to dream.

I was walking through a dark hallway in what looked like some sort of hotel. I came to a door where I could hear voices and pressed my ear to the door eagerly. There was a strange mystic voice:

"…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

"Oi! What are you doing?" demanded a voice. An ill-mannered barman grabbed me from behind before I could grab my wand and the door to the room I had been listening at, flew open. I could see a younger Dumbledore sitting with Professor Trelawney. Both looked surprised to see me.

"I… I c-came the wrong way up the stairs," I stammered, heart racing. Dumbledore was looking at me, frowning. I didn't care about that now. I had information for my master…

I awoke with a start. The dormitory was dark, everyone was still sleeping. I guessed I hadn't been asleep more than an hour. Shaking slightly, I reached for the potion on my bedside table and took a large swallow. I fell into a dream almost instantly.

The streets were filled with cheering and celebrating. A few people were weeping. Word had just reached their ears of the fall of the Dark Lord. Of course, this meant something else to me entirely. My heart felt as if it had been ripped out of my chest and stomped upon. She was gone…dead…

Tears poured down my face as I walked, unseeing, uncaring, down the street. Witches and Wizards everywhere were shooting sparks into the air with their wands and whooping loudly.

"Rejoice, sir, for You-Know-Who has indeed been vanquished! Dumbledore himself confirmed it!" squeaked a short wizard on the street. Dumbledore…the name fought through my despair… I had to get to Dumbledore…if I could get to Dumbledore, somehow everything would be alright again…

I awoke again, crying silently- the sense of despair was overwhelming. The bottle of potion was still in my hand and, more out of reflex than anything, I took another swig.

I was in Dumbledore's office, slumped over in a chair. My misery was devastating. I couldn't think of anything to say. It was all my fault. If I hadn't passed on the prophecy…

I let out a noise like a wounded animal. It summed up my despair perfectly.

"I thought…you were going…to keep her…safe…"

"She and James put her faith in the wrong person," said Dumbledore quietly, "rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

My breathing was shallow and I didn't respond.

"Her boy survives," said Dumbledore. My head gave an involuntary jerk at this information.

"Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evan's eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" I bellowed, clutching my head madly, trying as hard as I could not to picture her face, "Gone…dead…"

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish…I wish I were dead…"

"And what use would that be to anyone?" Dumbledore said coldly, "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

Through my pain, I looked up at Dumbledore.

"What-what do you mean?" I asked quietly.

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

"He does not need protection," I pointed out, "The Dark Lord has gone-"

"The Dark Lord will return and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."

I was silent a while, contemplating. I should care for him…he had no one else…but he was Potter's son. Potter's…my fists clenched. If it weren't for him…

But what if he were more like her? And he had her eyes…

"Very well," I said at last, regaining control of myself, "Very well. But never- never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear…especially Potter's son…I want your word!"

"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you? If you insist…" Dumbledore said with a sigh.

I awoke again, trembling and crying. The sense of guilt still lingered. I glanced down at the bottle in my hand and, without really thinking about it, downed the rest of the potion. Anything to make me forget…

I fought through the darkness that was swamping me. I couldn't hear, I couldn't see, I couldn't move. I wasn't even entirely sure I was breathing for that matter.

Am I alive? I wondered vaguely. Someone's worry and relief fought through the darkness to me.

"A-Abigail?"

I forced my eyes to open. I was disoriented for a minute. I was looking up at an unfamiliar white ceiling. There was a shining cluster of crystal bubbles in the middle of the ceiling, giving off the main source of light in the room. I squinted at my surroundings. The first thing I saw was Snape, sitting on a stool beside my bed. A look of immense relief washed over him.

"Abigail," he breathed, "thank God…"

"Where am I?" I murmured.

"St. Mungo's hospital. You…your friends found you cold this morning, an empty bottle of the Draught of Living Death in your hand. …they thought you were dead," he said quietly. A lot of emotions overwhelmed me as I recalled my dreams.

"I…I didn't mean to overdo it. …I just wanted to make the dreams stop," I said quietly. Snape was staring at me. His entire demeanor had changed.

"How did those images get in your mind?" he whispered. He had been inside my mind! He had seen when I recalled my dreams. I had been too befuddled by sleep to realize it.

"I…I can't explain," I stammered, "You wouldn't… I can't tell you."

"Abigail, you must tell me," he insisted.

"…Why should I tell you anything? You never tell me what I want to know," I retorted.

"Like what?"

"Like your work for the Dark Lord…your work for the Order."

"Abigail, it's better for you if you don't know anything about that. Safer for you…"

"Well maybe what I have to say is better for you to not know," I said, my anger building gradually, "Why should I have to wait up every night, worrying whether or not you're going to come home?" I demanded.

He looked a little surprised, as if the thought of me worrying had never crossed his mind. Then he looked a little subdued. I tried to calm my emotions.

"You can't shelter me forever, Severus. My mother was a Death Eater, I was raised by purebloods, I'm in Slytherin…my destiny lies at least a little in darkness," I said quietly, "The best thing you could do is to let me your protégé. Let me be a spy, like you. It's not like I'm aspiring to be evil…"

"…maybe you're right-"

At that moment there was a knock at the door and a man in green robes walked in.

"Why, hello there Miss Prewett. Nice of you to join the land of the living," he said with a kind smile, looking down at the clipboard he carried in his hand, "My name is Neil Gladyn. I'm the Healer-in-Charge."

"I wasn't trying to off myself, if that's what you think," I said quickly.

"Really? What were you doing?" Gladyn inquired.

"I was just trying to sleep. …I have bad dreams sometimes and they sometimes fight past my usual dose of the Draught of Living Death."

"Luckily for you, your guardian collaborates your story, otherwise you would have to stay here for further evaluation. You're free to go, Miss Prewett, but I suggest you take it easy for a while," he said. He scribbled something down, handed Snape my discharge papers, then left.

We left the hospital after handing the papers to the pretty blonde secretary. We walked down to the ground floor, which was crowded with people sporting various magical injuries- for instance, there was a witch who was covered in fur and sprouting a dog's tail and ears.

"Would you like to return to Hogwarts or go home?" Snape asked me.

"Does it matter?"

"Not to me."

"Then home, please."

Snape held out his arm and I took it. We Disapparated and reappeared in my room. I sat down on the edge of my bed. I had a terrible headache from the potion overdose and Apparating was apparently a bad idea.

I noticed my trunk sitting at the foot of my bed, along with Arsenius's cage.

"I thought you would want to come home so I had someone send your things here," Snape said. There was a minute of silence.

"…So I guess we should talk," I murmured. Snape sighed and sat down beside me.

"I'm really not good at this, Abigail…being truthful."

"It's okay. I'm really not either."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"What have you been doing for the Order?"

He sighed.

"I pass on information that helps Dumbledore stop some of the Dark Lord's plans. I'm also one of a handful of wizards guarding something the Dark Lord wants."

"What sort of thing? A weapon?"

"More like…information…A prophecy, made years ago."

"A… prophecy?" I said, recalling my dream, "like the prophecy I…the prophecy you heard in the Inn?"

Shock and pain crossed his face.

"How do you know-?" he began.

"I've been dreaming…I guess they must be memories…particularly, your memories…" I murmured softly.

"My memories…"

There was a moment of silence, then I felt him enter my mind.

"Can you show me?" he asked within my mind. I obliged by reviewing my dreams in my mind. When we got to the one with Lily lying on the bed, moaning as I kissed her neck…I blocked him. I clutched my head in pain. Searing white light and pain temporarily blinded me and I doubled over.

Snape looked away from me, his emotions filled with hurt and confusion. It took him a moment to reign in his emotions. I felt him look back at me but I didn't want to look at him. I felt disgusted with myself, that I had just seen his most private memories- not just seen them, but lived them and felt them.

"I'm not mad with you, Abigail," Snape said quietly.

"It doesn't matter. I feel…icky. I dreamt memories that weren't mine. It was just like when you shared the memory with me for my Patronus…"

"…Do you mean…everything I felt in those memories, you felt?"

"Yes. Everything you felt at that moment, in those memories, I experienced as well. …it was so much more confusing to me. Excitement, hurt, love…lust. All for reasons I didn't understand.

There was a minute of silence as Snape considered this information.

"I'm sorry Abigail…I'm sorry you had to feel those things. I know you didn't dream these things on purpose."

"I tried to make them stop, but-"

"I know. It's okay," he assured me. Then he put his arms around me, like he hadn't done in months. I sniffed a few times before deciding I wasn't going to cry. It felt good to have him hold me, however, and I let him know by opening my mind to him. We shifted to lie comfortably on the bed together. He pressed a kiss onto the top of my head.

"Your hair smells like raspberries," he commented. I chuckled quietly.

"I'm glad Umbridge isn't here," I said without thinking.

"…I really am sorry about that…that we haven't been able to talk…"

"It's okay. I know it's for the best. It's better than having her take me away…" I murmured in response.

"At least we'll have the rest of the holidays here. If you want to stay here, that is."

"Of course I'd rather stay here," I said, suppressing a yawn.

"You're supposed to be resting," he reminded me. I started to reach for the bottle of potion on my bedside table, but Snape quickly slapped my hand away.

"No," he said forcefully, "you won't be taking that for a while."

"But if I dream-"

"I'll be here," he assured me, "Now get some sleep."

I didn't say anything more, but snuggled closer to him and closed my eyes.

Christmas holidays weren't so bad, even though Snape was kept busy working for the Order or the Dark Lord. It wasn't as difficult as it was over the summer, since he started telling me what he was up to. He didn't do too many dangerous assignments, for which I was thankful. I didn't worry about him too much. I hung around the fenced-in back yard in tiger form a lot. Sometimes I would walk around the deserted streets or walk the trash-strewn riverbanks, waiting for Snape to come home. A small part of me wanted to use magic to clean up the river…but undoubtedly someone would notice.

It occurred to me that the shoddy little Muggle town looked a lot better in the winter than it did in the summer. Especially when it started to snow. The deserted streets didn't seem so unfriendly then. Everything seemed peaceful. My own winter wonderland.

On Christmas morning I awoke shortly before lunchtime. There was a small pile of presents at the foot of my bed. I could sense Snape's presence in the kitchen. I sat down on the edge of my bed and began opening my presents.

From my friends, I had candy and cards telling me they were worried about me and wanted to make sure I was okay. I imagined my friends finding me the next morning, after I had overdosed on sleeping potion. I felt slightly guilty and promised myself I would write them later on to let them know I was okay. Then I moved on to the next present, which was from Lupin. A new book called Tremendous Tigers. It was filled with magical moving pictures of tigers. Orange ones, white ones, blue ones…some that didn't even have stripes.

There was no gift from Snape.

Yet, I assured myself, Remember last Christmas…

Last Christmas had been the night of the Yule Ball. I'd spent the whole day thinking he hadn't gotten me a present. Then he surprised me with the necklace.

I wasn't in any hurry to get downstairs. I took a shower then dressed in jeans and a black sweater. I brushed the tangles from my long black hair, then went downstairs. Snape was no longer in the house. I found a note on the table.

Abigail,

Sorry but I was called away. I should be back before dinnertime. Your gift is on the table. Merry Christmas.

There was a small black box sitting in the middle of the table. Curious, I opened it to find a small silver heart on a silver chain. I immediately fastened it around my neck. It was beautiful and I loved it.

I decided to spend the day cleaning. I had never been one for housekeeping, but I didn't have anything better to do. I dusted books and shelves. I opened windows to let fresh air into the house. Upstairs, I cleaned my room and the bathroom. I cleaned the spare bedroom, which was also crammed full of books. I was able to use magic to clean, of course. I had looked it up recently found out that the Trace didn't really count when you were at home or somewhere where there are a lot of witches and wizards- it was mostly up to your parents to keep you from using underage magic.

After I finished the spare room, I went back into my room. I decided to clean out my trunk as well- it was crammed so full of stuff that I often had to sit on the top to make it close. I decided the best way to go about it was to dump everything out onto the floor and sort out what I needed, what didn't need, and what was just trash. Somewhere in the jumbled mess, I found a small, silver badge. It was from when Snape took me to get registered as an animagus.

I flopped down on my bed and examined the badge closely. I ran my fingers over the engraved words. Severus Snape, Guardian. I smiled to myself.

I heard the front door open downstairs. I tossed the badge onto my bedside table and thundered down the stairs. Snape was hanging up his cloak when I came down. He looked tired, but he half-smiled when he saw me.

"Merry Christmas," he said, hugging me quickly when I reached the bottom of the stairs.

I scowled.

"I don't like Christmas. Where have you been?" I inquired, following him into the kitchen.

"With the Dark Lord."

"Well duh. Only the Dark Lord would be evil enough to call you away on Christmas Day. I meant what have you been doing?"

"Trying to convince a group of giants in France to join the Dark Lord."

"How did it go?"

"Unsuccessful, I'm afraid," he said with a wry smile, "But I'll go back."

I noticed he was looking around curiously at how clean the house was. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"You cleaned?"

"Just because our house is uninhabited 90% of the time, doesn't mean it has to look that way," I replied lightly.

It was up to me to cook Christmas dinner for the two of us. We could have summoned something from Hogwarts, of course, but this seemed more homey. I had been reading some of Jenny's mom's cookbooks earlier today, considering what to cook. I'd put a turkey in the oven earlier and had potatoes out on the table to be peeled and cut up.

"I could help you, if you like," Snape offered, "Cut up potatoes or something…"

"No worries," I assured him. I flicked my wand towards the potatoes and the paring knife and watched as the potatoes began to peel themselves.

"Nice one," Snape complimented me, "I'll be upstairs if you need me."

I nodded my head and, using my wand, took the potatoes over to the sink and turned on the water so they could be washed while they were being peeled.

About five minutes later there was a knock on the front door. People very rarely knocked on our door. Since Snape was upstairs, I took it upon myself to answer the door. Wand in hand, I opened the door to find Albus Dumbledore standing on our doorstep.

He was dressed in robes of deep purple. His long white hair and beard seemed dingy gray compared to the white snow. I just stared at him for a moment, for he was the last person I expected to see on our doorstep.

Dumbledore smiled brightly at me.

"Merry Christmas. Is Severus at home?" he asked kindly. I felt a presence behind me, which told me Snape had come downstairs.

"Oh there you are," Dumbledore said brightly, "I was hoping for a quick word with you, Severus…in private."

Annoyed, I turned and headed for the stairs.

"Wait," Snape said, catching my arm, then said calmly to Dumbledore, "Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Abigail."

"I thought you wanted to keep her out of it as much as possible?" Dumbledore inquired, sounding surprised.

"I've decided that, in this case, honesty is the best course of action," Snape replied, putting an arm around me. Gratitude and affection flooded me and I let Snape know by opening my mind to him. Our eyes met momentarily and Snape half-smiled at me.

"Sometimes honesty is best," Dumbledore agreed, inclining his head.

The three of us stepped inside and went into the living room to sit down. I sat beside Snape on the couch and Dumbledore sat facing us in an armchair.

"I've a favor to ask of you, Severus," Dumbledore began.

"And what would that be?"

"I need someone to teach Harry Occlumency-"

"No," he said immediately.

"But Severus-"

"I said no," he repeated firmly.

"It's to keep him out of Voldemort's head and vice versa. It's for his own protection. …You made a promise, Severus," Dumbledore reminded him. Snape scowled at him.

"I don't want him in my head," Snape said coolly.

"Occlumency…you would be in his head, not the other way around. …right?" I said quietly.

"Right," Dumbledore said, "And if it gives you peace of mind, I'll lend you my Pensieve."

Snape looked from me, to Dumbledore, and back again. He sighed.

"…Fine. I'll do it," Snape muttered, not sounding very happy about it.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore brightly.

When Dumbledore left, Snape sighed heavily. I hurried into the kitchen to start the potatoes cooking then came back to sit down beside him on the couch.

"Why doesn't Dumbledore just teach Potter Occlumency himself?" I asked curiously, "Surely Dumbledore knows it."

"Of course he knows Occlumency, but he's distanced himself from Potter this year…in an effort to keep him safe," Snape replied.

"Sounds familiar," I said with a faint smile.

"Not anymore," he replied, also smiling slightly, "…Except when Umbridge is around."

"I hate that woman. I wish she would get trampled by a herd of centaurs."

"Abigail. That's a terrible thing to say," he said, but he was smiling. I grinned broadly.

Later that night, after dinner, I went back up to my room. I changed into some pajamas- short black shorts and a white tank top. I glanced at the unsorted pile of stuff on my floor that had come out of my trunk. I considered sorting it- then decided it could wait until tomorrow. I sat down on my bed and opened my new tiger book.

Ten minutes later Snape appeared in my doorway. His eyes moved over my figure laying on the bed and I felt my face flush. He looked away from me and down to the mess on the floor. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I was cleaning out my trunk," I explained.

"Doesn't look like you got very far," he remarked.

"I got distracted," I replied with a shrug. He walked over to the pile and picked something off the top. It was a small piece of parchment.

"You keep all my old notes?" he asked, smirking. I blushed harder and turned my attention to my book.

"What are you reading?" he inquired, coming to sit beside me. I pulled myself up into a sitting position and showed him the cover of the book.

"Lupin gave it to me for Christmas," I said. He flipped through it, mildly interested, and leaned back on my pillows.

"This one looks like you," he remarked, pointing to a picture in the book. I crawled over to see what he was looking at- it was a picture of a white tiger, running in the snow, playing with a basketball.

"Both his eyes are blue though," I said, resting my head on Snape's shoulder.

He scanned through the book for a few minutes more. Then he closed it.

"So, how have you been sleeping, Abigail?" he asked me, "Any dreams?"

I frowned slightly and sighed.

"Mostly I dream disoriented images and feelings…but last night my dream was more vivid. It wasn't necessarily a bad dream though," I murmured.

"Will you share it with me?"

"I guess…I mean, it is your memory."

I opened my mind to him and shared the dream.

I was sitting on a swing set, dragging my feet in the sand, watching a red-haired girl swinging beside me. It was Lily, around the age of fifteen. She was smiling as she swung, but I could tell by the fiery look in her green eyes that something her mind was elsewhere.

"What's wrong, Lily?" I asked finally. She frowned slightly and let her swing stop. She sighed.

"I hate it here, Sev. I wish it was time to go back to Hogwarts…" she said heavily.

"We just left Hogwarts. Why do you hate it here?"

"…My sister hates me- she won't even speak to me. I'd rather not be around her at all. Mom and Dad are always busy and even they treat me differently…"

I looked away from her, staring determinedly at the dirt.

"You're lucky to have a family who loves you," I said quietly.

"Oh…I'm sorry, Sev…"

"Forget it. Let's go for a walk," I suggested.

Lily held my hand as we walked down the deserted street. The sun was shining brightly. Lily sighed, this time in a more content sort of way.

"I wish we could run away together. We could live in a house somewhere, just you and me…" she said dreamily. I glanced at her and smiled. I knew she wasn't being realistic- she just didn't want to be here anymore. I kissed her anyway, holding her close to me…

Snape pulled out of my mind and closed off his emotions to me. A few minutes of silence passed, then he put one arm around me. I could sense his emotions now- deep sorrow, grief, and pain…all of which lessened slightly when he put his arm around me. I was glad I could be a small comfort to him. I snuggled closer to him, thinking he was a small comfort to my sorrow as well.

"You shouldn't have to feel it, too," Snape said quietly, "…I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Not all of the emotions were bad…" I hesitated a moment, then added quietly, "…I loved Lily, too…"

Snape didn't say anything for a moment, but I felt him tense slightly.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he said softly, his voice sounding strained. I nodded my head in understanding.

I was starting to drift off to sleep when Snape moved to take something off my nightstand and I jolted awake. He held up his badge from the Ministry, raised an eyebrow at me, and smirked. I blushed and buried my face in his shoulder, embarrassed. I heard him chuckle quietly. I lifted my head long enough to snatch the badge away from him, then hid my face again. He kissed the top of my head and chuckled again.

"Can I go with you when you go tell Potter you're teaching him Occlumency?" I inquired, my voice muffled by his shirt, "…I could stay invisible."

He considered it a minute.

"I suppose you could, if you stay invisible."

A few days later, Snape and I went to find Potter. I donned my Disillusionment Charm before we Disapparated. We appeared on a street that looked rather plain. Snape looked at his watch. A moment later a piece of parchment appeared in the air.

"Ah," he said grabbing it and thrusting it in my general direction, "Read this. Memorize it."

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London

I read the paper a few times, then Snape took it from me and set fire to it with his wand. So I was finally going to see where the Order of the Phoenix met. Interesting…

"Think about what you just memorized," Snape said to me. I thought, and no sooner had I reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door emerged out of nowhere between two other houses. This one had dirty walls and grimy windows, however. Snape led me to the door and ushered me inside.

"Alright. Be silent now," he said to me. A door at the end of the hall opened and a red-haired woman whom I had seen once before bustled out. It was Mrs. Weasley. She smiled brightly at him.

"Ah, Professor Snape. Dumbledore said you might be stopping by," she said.

"I need to speak with Potter," Snape said lazily.

"Yes, of course. I'll go and get him. You can wait in the kitchen, if you like."

Snape went into the kitchen without any direction. Someone was already in the kitchen, however- Sirius Black.

"Hello, Black," Snape said quietly. Sirius jumped and whirled around.

"Oh. What are you doing here?" he asked, eyeing Snape as if he were something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"I'm here to talk with Potter, on Dumbledore's orders."

"Well, I'll sit right here while you have your little conversation," Black said angrily, sitting down at the long table in the middle of the room. Snape sat down as well and they both glared in opposite directions.

A few minutes later the kitchen door opened and there stood Potter, dressed in Muggle clothing.

"Er," he said, looking around the room. Snape looked up at him.

"Sit down, Potter," Snape said.

"You know, I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see," Black said, leaning back in his chair. So this is his house…I thought to myself. Potter sat down in a chair beside Black and faced Snape.

"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," Snape sneered, "But Black-"

"I'm his godfather," Black said loudly.

"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," Snape said quietly, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel…involved."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Black demanded, letting his chair fall back on four legs.

"Merely that I am sure you must feel- ah- frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful for the Order."

Black flushed and Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to face Potter again.

"The headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term," Snape said to him.

"Study what?" Potter asked blankly.

"Occlumency, Potter. The magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one," Snape replied, his sneer even more pronounced.

"Why do I have to study Occlu-thing?" he blurted out. I had to suppress a snort of laughter.

"Because the headmaster thinks it is a good idea. You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?"

"Yes," Potter replied, "Who's going to be teaching me?"

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I am."

Potter looked as if someone had just told him his owl died. He quickly looked around at Black.

"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" asked Black aggressively, "Why you?"

"I suppose because it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks. I assure you I did not beg for the job," Snape said silkily. I repressed a snort of laughter. Snape got to his feet.

"I will expect you at six o'clock Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them," he said to Potter. He turned to leave.

"Wait a moment," said Black, sitting up straight. Snape turned around to face him, sneering.

"I am in rather a hurry, Black…unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time…"

"I'll get to the point, then. If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to," Black said, standing up. I noticed that Snape had his hand clenched around his wand in his pocket. I could hardly blame him. Black was a lot taller and a lot angrier-looking than Snape.

"How touching," Snape sneered, "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?"

"Yes, I have," replied Black proudly.

"Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly. I was on the verge of laughing when Black knocked his chair out of the way and strode across the table to Snape, pulling out his wand as he went. Snape also pulled out his wand.

"Sirius!" Potter said loudly, but Black ignored him.

Snape, now might not be the best time…I thought anxiously, but I, too, was ignored.

"I've warned you, Snivellus," said Black, his face inches from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better-"

"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. His face had turned livid when Black called him Snivellus. It was obviously offensive. He quickly made his face blank again.

"Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?" Snape asked, still sneering.

"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?" Black asked.

"Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform…gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?"

Sirius raised his wand.

"NO!" Potter roared, standing between them, "Sirius, don't-"

"Are you calling me a coward?" roared Black.

"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape quietly.

"Harry- get- out- of- it!" Black snarled, pushing Potter out of the way. The kitchen door opened just then and an entire family of redheads walked in along with a man who could only be Mr. Weasley, wearing striped pajamas.

"Cured! Completely cured!" he announced brightly, grinning. Everyone froze and took in the scene before them. Black and Snape were still facing each other, wands out.

"Merlin's beard," said Mr. Weasley, no longer smiling, "What's going on here?"

Sirius and Snape both lowered their wands, brought back to their senses by the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses. Snape swept across the kitchen past the Weasleys. He paused at the door.

"Six o'clock Monday evening, Potter," he said coldly, then walked out the door. I followed as quietly as possible.

When we were safely back home, Snape sat down on the couch, his expression blank. I could sense his annoyance and fury however.

"It's been a while since I've seen you get angry. I think I've gotten too used to you being nice," I remarked lightly. He scowled at me, then half-smiled.

The holidays dissipated pretty quickly after that and Snape and I returned to Hogwarts, much to my displeasure. The first day back in classes, Umbridge questioned me. I had suspected she would question me and make me angry…then I would get another detention. I wondered what my Mother would have done in this situation. Snape said she got along well with everybody, even people she despised. Maybe I could close off some of my emotions…concentrate on something else to keep myself from getting angry.

"Where were you over the holidays, Miss Prewett? You didn't put your name down for the train, but you weren't in the castle. Severus wasn't either," Umbridge said quietly to me as the rest of the class worked on the assignment. I tried to concentrate on what I was supposed to be writing.

"I fell ill," I replied absently, hoping my indifferent tone would keep her from giving me detention, "I went to St. Mungo's hospital for treatment, then stayed at home for a few days."

"Why not return to Hogwarts?"

"I didn't want to be bothered. I was recuperating from my illness. Snape took care of me," I said simply, "Now may I please work on my assignment, Professor?"

She frowned very briefly, then put back up her fake smile.

"Of course," she said and walked away. I was surprised it had worked so easily. I smiled, pleased with myself, and continued working. I was the first one finished.

"Very good, Miss Prewett," Umbridge said as she looked over my paper, "It seems you've finally managed to keep your temper in check."

"Thank you, Professor," I said politely.

Later that night, Snape was supposed to be giving Potter his first Occlumency lesson. I donned my Disillusionment Charm and went down to Snape's office. I knocked on the door and opened it. Potter had not yet arrived and Snape was standing at his desk, his wand at his temple. Silvery stuff clung to the end of his wand and he placed it carefully in a stone basin that was on his desk. Curious, I walked over and peered in the basin. It was filled with silvery swirling stuff. I wondered what it felt like and made a move to touch the stuff in the basin. Snape grabbed my wrist with startling accuracy.

"Haven't you ever been taught not to stick your hands into strange liquids?" he demanded. The phrase struck me as familiar and I frowned slightly. Then I chuckled.

"What's so amusing?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Lupin once asked me the same thing, concerning a grindylow tank," I answered, "What happens if I touch that stuff? And what is it?"

"It's Pensieve. It belongs to Dumbledore, but he lent it to me. It can be used to store thoughts, memories…certain things I wouldn't like Potter to see," he replied, frowning slightly. I can think of a few, I thought with a smirk. Images of Lily filled my mind, her lying on the bed beneath me, moaning and gasping for breath as I-

Snape smacked me sharply on the back of the head- not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to jolt me.

"Don't think about that," he said to me.

"It's my memory, too now," I reminded him, "And what were you doing in my mind?"

"You didn't notice? When you came into the room I entered your mind so I could 'see' where you were since you were invisible."

"No I didn't notice," I said quietly, worrying that maybe I was getting too used to having him in my head. I needed to put up stronger mental barriers- there were still some things I didn't want Snape to know…some thoughts I would rather have kept private.

At that moment Potter knocked on the door and opened it. I fell silent and retreated to a corner so I wouldn't be in the way.

"Shut the door behind you, Potter," Snape said to him. Potter obeyed and when he turned around Snape pointed to a chair. Potter sat.

"Well, Potter, you know why you are here. The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than Potions."

"Right," said Potter tersely.

"This may not be an ordinary class, Potter," Snape continued malevolently, "but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me 'sir' or 'Professor' at all times."

"Yes…sir."

"Now, Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather's kitchen, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence."

"And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?"

"Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency-"

"What's that? Sir?"

"It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind-"

"He can read minds?"

"You have no subtlety, Potter. You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker. Only Muggles talk of 'mind reading.' The mind is not a book to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter…or at least, most minds are… It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection."

"So he could tell what we're thinking right now, sir?" Potter asked anxiously.

"The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them. Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency," Snape replied.

"Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?" Potter asked.

Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one finger as he did so. He wore a curious, veiled expression.

"The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable- when you are asleep, for instance- you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wished me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord," Snape said finally.

"But why does Professor Dumbledore want to stop it?" he asked abruptly, "I don't like it much, but it's been useful, hasn't it? I mean…I saw the snake attack Mr. Weasley and if I hadn't, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save him, would he? Sir?"

"It appears that the Dark Lord has been unaware of the connection between you and himself until very recently. Up till now it seems that you have been experiencing his emotions and sharing his thoughts without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had shortly before Christmas-"

"The one with the snake and Mr. Weasley?"

"Do not interrupt me, Potter," Snape warned in a dangerous voice, "As I was saying…the vision you had shortly before Christmas represented such a powerful incursion upon the Dark Lord's thought-"

"I saw inside the snake's head, not his!"

"I thought I just told you not to interrupt me, Potter?"

"How come I saw through the snake's eyes if it's Voldemort's thoughts I'm sharing?"

"Do not say the Dark Lord' name!!" spat Snape. They glared at each other across the room and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"Professor Dumbledore says his name," Potter said quietly, defiantly.

"Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard," Snape murmured, "While he may feel secure enough to use the name…the rest of us…"

He rubbed his left forearm unconsciously where the Dark Mark was burned into his skin.

"I just wanted to know," Potter began again, "why-"

"You seem to have visited the snake's mind because that was where the Dark Lord was at that particular moment," Snape snarled, "He was possessing the snake at the time and so you dreamed you were inside it too…"

"And Vol- he- realized I was there?"

"It seems so."

"How do you know? Is this just Professor Dumbledore guessing or-?"

"I told you to call me sir," Snape said coldly.

"Yes, sir," said Potter impatiently, "but how do you know-?"

"It is enough that we know," said Snape repressively, "The important point is that the Dark Lord is now aware that you are gaining access to his thoughts and feelings. He has also deduced that the process is likely to work in reverse; that is to say, he has realized that he might be able to access your thoughts and feelings in return-"

"And he might try and make me do things?" asked Potter, "sir?"

"He might," said Snape coldly, sounding unconcerned, "Which brings us back to Occlumency."

Snape lifted his wand and added more of his memories to the Pensieve three times before he moved it to a shelf out of their way. Then he turned back to Potter with his wand raised.

"Stand up and take out your wand, Potter," Snape instructed. Potter got to his feet, obviously nervous, and faced Snape.

"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," Snape said to him.

"And what are you going to do?" Potter asked, eyeing Snape's wand fearfully.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," Snape said softly, "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse…you will find that similar powers are needed for this…brace yourself, now…Legilimens!"

Potter's face went oddly slack and Snape's look was one of concentration. I watched them apprehensively for a moment, wondering if I dared try to enter the connection between their minds, but I didn't get the chance. A beam of light shot out of Potter's wand and struck Snape as Potter fell to the ground, hitting his knee on the desk as he did so. Snape had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist where the spell had hit him. There was a welt there that looked a little painful.

"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" Snape asked coolly.

"No," Potter replied bitterly, getting up from the floor.

"I thought not," said Snape scornfully, "You let me get in too far. You lost control."

"Did you see everything I saw?" Potter asked uncertainly.

"Flashes of it," Snape replied, his lip curling, "To whom did the dog belong?"

"My Aunt Marge," Potter muttered, a look of hatred on his face.

"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," Snape said, raising his wand once more, "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."

"I'm trying but you're not telling me how!" Potter said angrily.

"Manners, Potter," said Snape dangerously, "Now, I want you to close your eyes."

Potter threw him a dirty look before doing so. I couldn't blame him. If Snape hated me I probably wouldn't want to face him with my eyes closed while he carried a wand.

"Clear your mind, Potter," Snape said coldly, "Let go of all emotion…"

It was obvious that Potter wasn't even trying. His face was contorted with hatred for Snape and nothing more.

"You're not doing it, Potter…you will need more discipline than this…focus, now…Let's go again…on the count of three…one- two- three- Legilimens!"

This time I also prodded Potter's mind slightly while keeping my own heavily guarded. I saw everything he saw. A black dragon rearing…two people staring at him through a magic mirror, one of them had red hair and familiar green eyes…Cedric Diggory, lying on the ground with blank eyes…

"NO!" Potter shouted. I withdrew quickly and saw he was on the floor again with his face buried in his hands.

"Get up!" Snape said harshly, "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons."

He looked paler and angrier than usual. I could guess why- the red-haired, green-eyed woman we had seen in the magic mirror had been Lily Evans and Potter's father. I felt a little ill myself.

"I am making an effort," said Potter through clenched teeth.

"I told you to empty yourself of emotion!" Snape said bitterly.

"Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment," he snarled.

"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" said Snape savagely, "Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily- weak people in other words- they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"

Just hearing him say that made me proud that I had mastered Occlumency and mastered control of my emotions. I also thought the words were meant for himself as well as Potter.

"I am not weak," Potter sad furiously in a low voice.

"Then prove it! Master yourself!" spat Snape, "Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!"

I didn't bother entering his mind this time. It didn't last long. Within minutes Potter was back on all fours.

"I KNOW! I KNOW!" he shouted, but he sounded strangely triumphant.

"What happened then, Potter?" Snape asked, eyeing him carefully.

"I saw- I remembered," Potter panted, "I've just realized…"

"Realized what?" Snape asked sharply. There was a few minutes of silence as Potter rubbed the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. It was obviously hurting him. He looked up at Snape suddenly.

"What's in the Department of Mysteries?" Potter asked quickly.

"What did you say?" Snape asked, looking slightly unnerved.

"I said, what's in the Department of Mysteries, sir?"

"And why," Snape said slowly, "would you ask such a thing?"

"Because that corridor I've just seen- I've been dreaming about it for months- I've just recognized it- it leads to the Department of Mysteries…and I think Voldemort wants something from-"

"I have told you not to say the Dark Lord's name!" Snape roared. He looked extremely agitated and when he spoke again he was trying to sound unconcerned.

"There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, few of which you would understand and none of which concern you, do I make myself plain?" Snape said quietly. It was quite obvious to me that he was lying and I wondered what was in the Department of Mysteries.

"Yes," Potter said, rubbing his scar again.

"I want you back here at the same time on Wednesday, and we will continue work then."

"Fine."

"You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before you sleep- empty it, make it blank and calm, understand?"

"Yes."

"And be warned, Potter…I shall know if you have not practiced…"

"Right."

Potter grabbed his school bag and left quickly as Snape began to scoop his own thoughts back out of the Pensieve. I lifted my Disillusionment Charm. I didn't say anything for a moment, then…

"So what is in the Department of Mysteries? …Come to think of it, what is the Department of Mysteries?" I asked quietly.

"The Department of Mysteries is a branch of the Ministry of Magic. Mostly they've been trying to figure a way to communicate with the dead."

"Have they made progress?" I asked, feeling slightly alarmed.

"I don't know. The people who work there are called Unspeakables. No one really knows what they're up to most of the time."

"So what is in there that concerns Potter?"

"Nothing in there concerns Potter."

"Don't lie to me," I said quietly, "I don't like it."

He hesitated a moment, then sighed.

"There is a place in the Department of Mysteries called the Hall of Prophecies. In the Hall of Prophecies, there is a copy of every prophecy ever made."

"Oh," I said, comprehension dawning on me, "Okay."

"…You should get back to your dormitory. If Umbridge catches you out…"

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, heading for the door, "Later, Severus."

A few days later I was sitting at the breakfast table. I had just opened the Daily Prophet and started to read the front page. There had been a mass-breakout from Azkaban. Ten large pictures showed the faces of those who had escaped, captioned by their names and the crimes they had originally committed. The first was a man named Antonin Dolohov. He had a long, pale, twisted face. Convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett read the caption below his picture. The names weren't completely unfamiliar to me- Gideon and Fabian had been cousins of mine, albeit rather distant cousins. Mother called them blood-traitors.

There was only one woman amongst the escapees- a witch with long, straggly, dark hair whose name was Bellatrix Lestrange. She had a disdainful smile playing around her mouth. She looked as if she had once been beautiful, but Azkaban had taken its toll. The convicted crime was the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom. I glanced over at the Gryffindor Table where Neville Longbottom sat, eating, unaware that the woman who had tortured his parents was free. He had obviously not yet opened his newspaper.

I looked down at the paper and the headline and article that accompanied the pictures.

Mass Breakout from Azkaban

Ministry Fears Black is "Rallying Point"

For old Death Eaters

The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that

There has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.

Speaking to reporters in his private office,

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten

High-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of

Yesterday evening, and that he has already informed

The Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature

Of these individuals.

"We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the

same position we were two and a half years ago when

the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last

night, "Nor do we think that the two breakouts are unrelated.

An escape of this magnitude suggests outside

help, and we must remember that Black, as the first

person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally

placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think

it is likely that these individuals, who include Black's

cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black

as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to

round up the criminals and beg the magical community

to remain alert and cautious. On no account

should any of these individuals be approached."

I glanced up at the staff table. Snape wasn't there. Dumbledore and McGonagall were whispering, serious expressions on their faces. I was pleased to see Umbridge scowling and sending malevolent glances towards Dumbledore every few seconds as she ate her porridge.

Over the next few days, rumors flew around the school, speculations about the escaped Death Eaters. Some said that they had been spotted in Hogsmeade and they were planning to break into the castle like Sirius Black had done. Of course I knew that Sirius Black hadn't been the one to break the prisoners loose. It was obviously the Dark Lord. Black was on our side…the good side.

It occurred to me one day that I did consider myself one of the good guys. My Mother had been a Death Eater, and my step-father, too. I believed Dumbledore, however, and would be his spy if he wanted me to. I believed Dumbledore, I realized, because Snape believed Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the only wizard the Dark Lord ever feared. My parents had been killed for supposedly betraying the Dark Lord. I would never follow the Dark Lord.

The very next day after the escape of the prisoners, Umbridge passed a new Educational Decree saying that teachers could not give students any information not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.

Two teachers were on probation now- Professor Trelawney and Hagrid. Every Divination and Care of Magical Creatures class was monitored by Umbridge and her clipboard, which of course made my life a bit more miserable than usual. I had to keep up the obedient schoolgirl façade constantly.

One afternoon I decided to skip Care of Magical Creatures and go down to Snape's office. I knew he had a free period then. I sent word, via Jenny and Brandy, to Hagrid and Umbridge that I had a bad sinus headache and wouldn't be in class. The only time I saw Snape was during his Occlumency lessons and he never let me stay late afterwards. I wanted to talk to him. Once the bell rang that signaled everyone would be in class, I donned my Disillusionment Charm and made my way to Snape's office. He looked up when I entered and frowned slightly.

"You should be in class," he said disapprovingly.

"I told my friends to tell Hagrid I had a sinus headache," I replied lightly, "I know Umbridge wouldn't miss one of Hagrid's classes, so I figured I could come talk to you safely."

"Hmm," was all he said, and returned his attentions to the papers he was grading.

"Is it true what some of the kids are saying?" I asked him.

"What are they saying?"

"That the escaped Death Eaters are planning to attack Hogwarts."

Snape looked up at me and shook his head.

"The Dark Lord has no interest in children," he assured me, "Those that have escaped are nowhere near Hogwarts. The Dark Lord keeps them busy."

"Well that's a cheerful thought," I muttered.

"You asked."

"I did. …how come when Sirius Black escaped there were dementors everywhere and now there are ten escaped prisoners and there isn't a dementor within a hundred miles of here?" I inquired.

"The dementors are outside of Ministry control now…of course, Fudge will never admit that."

"Right. Well, I'm not complaining. I can go my whole life without seeing another dementor."

Snape half-smiled and looked back down at his work.

January passed alarmingly fast with D.A. meetings, which were interesting and somewhat fun, and Potter's Occlumency lessons, which he was steadily failing. About midway through February, an article appeared in a magazine called The Quibbler. Harry Potter had apparently given an interview about the night he saw the Dark Lord return. I was one of the few who read the article before Umbridge banned it.

A lot of the Slytherins were annoyed with the article- Potter had named a lot of their parents as Death Eaters. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle glowered every time they saw Potter, but of course they couldn't admit they had read the magazine or risk expulsion.

During one of Potter's Occlumency lessons something rather interesting happened. I was standing in the corner, watching, invisible as always. Potter was trying to resist but again he fell to his knees.

"Get up, Potter," Snape said, sounding angry, "That last memory. What was it?"

"I don't know," Potter replied wearily as he got to his feet, "The one where my cousin tried to make me stand in the toilet?"

"No. I mean the one concerning a man kneeling in the middle of a darkened room…"

"It's…nothing," Potter said quickly.

"How do that man and that room come to be in your head, Potter?" Snape asked.

"It- it was- just a dream I had."

"A dream," repeated Snape, "You do know why we are here, don't you, Potter? You do know why I am giving up my evenings to do this tedious job?"

"Yes."

"Remind me why we are here, Potter."

"So I can learn Occlumency."

"Correct, Potter. And dim though you may be I would have thoughts that after two months' worth of lessons you might have made some progress. How many other dreams about the Dark Lord have you had?"

"Just that one," Potter replied stiffly. I knew he was lying. I saw Snape's eyes narrow slightly.

"Perhaps," he said, dark eyes glittering coldly, "perhaps you actually enjoy having these visions and dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel special- important?"

"No, they don't," said Potter, clenching his fists.

"That is just as well, Potter, because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters."

"No- that's your job, isn't it?" Potter spat out. There was an extended silence. Snape had a somewhat satisfied expression on his face. He seemed glad that someone had finally acknowledged the dangerous work he did for the Order.

"Yes, Potter, that is my job. Now, if you are ready, we will start again…" Snape said, eyes glinting. He raised his wand.

"One- two- three- Legilimens!"

Potter still had his eyes open and a determined look on his face. He raised his own wand and cried "Protego!"

Snape's face went oddly slack and for a moment I prodded the connection between their minds and saw that Potter was receiving some of Snape's memories. Snape-the-teenager shooting flies down from the ceiling with his wand…Lily Evans laughing as he tried to mount a bucking broomstick…

I withdrew quickly and pushed Potter hard in the chest to break his concentration.

"ENOUGH!" Snape shouted. His face was very white. Potter had stumbled a few feet backwards when I had pushed him and something on one of the shelves had smashed.

"Reparo," Snape hissed, repairing the broken jar, "Well, Potter…that was certainly an improvement…I don't remember telling you to use a Shield Charm…but there is no doubt it was effective…"

He was panting and shaking slightly. I felt a sort of cold fury towards Potter. He had broken into Snape's mind, something that I had never dared to do…at least not intentionally.

"Let's try again shall we," Snape said quietly. I could sense his fury and hatred. They both returned to their original positions and the expression on Potter's face told me he knew what was coming. He was going to pay dearly for that insight into Snape's mind.

"On the count of three then," Snape said, raising his wand, "One- two- Legilimens!"

I wondered what happened to 'three' when all of a sudden Potter was knocked onto his back and Snape pulled out of his mind.

"POTTER!" Snape said loudly, and he opened his eyes. I wondered what he had seen. Snape looked more furious than he had a moment ago.

"Explain yourself," Snape commanded.

"I…dunno what happened. I've never seen that before. I mean, I told you, I've dreamed about the door…but it's never opened before…"

"You are not working hard enough! You are lazy and sloppy, Potter, it is a small wonder the Dark Lord-"

"Can you tell me something, sir?" Potter said venomously, "Why do you call Voldemort the Dark Lord, I've only ever heard the Death Eaters call him that-"

Snape opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by a scream from somewhere outside of the room.

"What the-?" he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. There was a muffled commotion coming from the floor above, which might have been the entrance hall.

"Did you see anything unusual on your way down here, Potter?" Snape asked, frowning. Potter shook his head no. The woman screamed again and Snape left the room, followed closely by Potter. I closed the door silently behind me and hurried to catch up with Snape, removing my Disillusionment Charm.

The screams had been coming from the Entrance Hall and they grew louder as we hurried up the stone steps leading out of the dungeon. When we reached the top, the Entrance Hall was packed full of students who had just come from dinner. The air was heavy with pity, sadness, and some very faint amusement. I followed Snape, who pushed his way through the group of students and over to where McGonagall stood. She looked faintly ill. Standing on my tiptoes, I could see what everyone was staring at-

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty bottle of sherry in the other. She looked insane. Her hair was standing on end, her glasses were askew, her numerous shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, looking as if they had been tossed down the stairs. She was staring, terrified, at someone who stood at the foot of the stairs- Umbridge.

"No!" Professor Trelawney shrieked, "NO! This cannot be happening…it cannot…I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming?" asked Umbridge in her high, girly voice. She sounded coldly amused. "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?"

"You c-can't!" howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face, "You c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It was your home," said Umbridge, "until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."

But Umbridge stood and watched, gloating, as Trelawney shuddered and moaned, rocking back and forth on her trunk. She looked absolutely pitiful and I felt bad for her. I grabbed Snape's arm, wishing I could do something. He glanced down at me briefly, then brushed my hand away, turning his gaze back to Umbridge. McGonagall broke away from the spectators, marched straight up to Trelawney, and began patting her firmly on the back.

"There, there, Sibyll…Calm down…Blow your nose on this," she said, pulling a handkerchief out of her robes, "It's not as bad as you think, now…You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…"

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" said Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward, "And your authority for that statement is…?"

"That would be mine," said a deep, authoritative voice. The front doors had swung open and students scurried out of the way to let Dumbledore through. I sensed the atmosphere in the room change a little. Everyone seemed a little more at ease, as if Dumbledore could make everything better.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" said Umbridge with an unpleasant laugh, "I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher that she- that is to say, I- feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."

Dumbledore just continued to smile. He looked down at Professor Trelawney, then said, "You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."

Professor Trelawney gave a wild laugh which concealed a hiccup.

"No- no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere-"

"No," said Dumbledore sharply, "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll. Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course," said McGonagall, "Up you get, Sibyll…"

Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick hurried forward to help and the four of them went upstairs.

Umbridge was standing deathly still, staring at Dumbledore, who was still smiling.

"And what," she said in a carrying whisper, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"

"Oh that won't be a problem," said Dumbledore pleasantly, "You see, I've already found a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."

"You've found-?" said Umbridge shrilly, "You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Twenty-two-"

"-the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if- and only if- the headmaster is unable to find one. And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?"

He turned to face the front doors, which were still open. A night mist was drifting into the Entrance Hall. I heard the sound of approaching hoof beats. There was shocked murmuring and people began to move back, making room for the newcomer. Through the mist came a slightly familiar face- white blonde hair, bright blue eyes, the had and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.

"This is Firenze," said Dumbledore happily to a shocked Umbridge, "I think you'll find him suitable."

The Great Hall cleared slowly after that and Umbridge's beady eyes found me. She walked towards me and I swallowed my dislike. I plastered a fake smile on my face.

"What did you think of that, Miss Prewett?" Umbridge asked, her voice not as girly as usual.

"I thought you were brilliant, Professor. Trelawney can't even predict her own footsteps, much less teach a class," I said with false brightness. Umbridge smiled at me.

"And what of the animal?" she asked.

"Well, I've had run-ins with centaurs before…they can be dangerous, but they are pretty smart," I replied slowly. Her smiled faltered momentarily, then she shook her head and waved a dismissive hand. Without so much as a second glance at Snape and myself, she headed upstairs. Snape looked down at me, surprised.

"When did you get so smart?" he asked lightly. I scowled at him and shot an evil glance at Umbridge's retreating figure.

"Loads of practice," I muttered darkly.

McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout were coming back down the stairs now, talking quietly amongst themselves. Curious, Snape strode over to them and I followed silently.

"-Hogwarts is coming apart at the seams because of that- that woman," McGonagall was saying, her eyes glittering coldly.

"Isn't there anything the Headmaster can do?" Flitwick said desperately.

"He's trying, but you've read what the Prophet has been saying about him. Some of the parents think having a 'High Inquisitor' is a good thing. Even some of the students-"

McGonagall paused and glanced around the Entrance Hall. Her eyes found me, but passed me over quickly. Obviously, I didn't really count as a student.

"Did you hear that Dumbledore appointed a new Divination teacher?" Snape asked McGonagall and the others. They all three shook their heads.

"A centaur by the name of Firenze," he informed them. Sprout and Flitwick exchanged amused glances. Even McGonagall smiled a thin-lipped smile…if you could really call it a smile.

"I would've paid to see the expression on Umbridge's face," said Flitwick with a quiet laugh, "There's nothing she hates more than half-breeds…"

I was intrigued by the fact that we now had a centaur for a teacher. Divination classes became a lot more interesting for one thing. Firenze's classroom, which was on the ground floor, had been bewitched to look like the forest. I wanted to morph into tiger form so badly I spent half the class period digging my fingers in and out of the dirt. Firenze talked a lot about the stars and how nothing was definite, not even the knowledge of a centaur. I wondered if this was why they were often so vague.

I wanted to pluck up the courage to ask him about the other centaurs I knew- particularly the elder, Orion, who had been kind to me…who had told me that, if I wasn't careful, I would turn out evil. I didn't dare ask him, however, until our third lesson, when he stopped Pansy Parkinson and Draco from tossing acorns at me. I stayed behind as the rest of the class left after the bell rang.

"Abigail Prewett," Firenze said when he saw me standing there, "I remember you…though you didn't appear quite so human when last we met."

I smiled nervously.

"How are the rest of your herd?" I asked quietly, "Bane…and Orion?"

Firenze looked mournful.

"I cannot say for sure…I was banished, for agreeing to work for Dumbledore. They view it as a betrayal of our kind…or at least, Bane does."

I fell silent and looked up at the stars on the enchanted ceiling, wishing I could read what the centaurs read there.

"Orion told me that if I wasn't careful, I would turn out evil," I said softly. Firenze looked at me, blinking his big blue eyes.

"Do you think you have succeeded in avoiding evil?" he inquired.

"I don't know. I think so. I don't feel evil…"

"All those who are evil, do not view themselves as evil…even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named believes he is in the right."

"…So does that mean I am evil?"

Firenze shrugged his shoulders and looked up at the stars. He said nothing more to me and, slightly annoyed, I left the classroom and went to my next class.

As our O.W.L. exams grew closer, all of the fifth years suffered from some degree of stress. Teachers were simply piling the work load on us. I had nothing to take my mind off the work except for D.A. lessons. We had moved up to Patronuses, finally, and after careful consideration I decided that using my own tiger-shaped Patronus was safest. During one of our lessons, I was watching my Patronus run around the room when the door to the Room of Requirement opened. A small house-elf wearing eight hats came in. He looked frantic. He ran over to Potter and tugged on his robes. Everyone had fallen silent.

"Hi, Dobby!" Potter said, "What are you- what's wrong?"

He looked terrified. The last few Patronuses disappeared.

"Harry Potter, sir," squeaked the elf, "Harry Potter, sir…Dobby has come to warn you…but the house-elves have been warned not to tell…"

To my slight alarm, Dobby ran headfirst at the wall. Potter made to grab him, but Dobby merely bounced off the stone, cushioned by his hats.

"What's happened, Dobby?" Potter asked, grabbing the elf's tiny arm so he wouldn't run at the wall again.

"Harry Potter…she…she…"

Dobby hit himself hard on the nose with his free fist and Potter seized that, too.

"Who's 'she', Dobby?" Potter demanded, "Umbridge?"

Dobby nodded weakly, then tried to bang his head on Potter's knees. Potter held him at bay.

"What about her? Dobby- she hasn't found out about this- about us- about the D.A.?"

He read his answer on the elf's miserable face.

"Is she coming?" Potter asked quietly.

"Yes, Harry Potter, yes!" howled Dobby.

Potter straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people around him.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Potter bellowed, "RUN!"

Everyone pelted towards the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, then people burst through. I knew it was pointless to try and make it to the Slytherin Common Room so I took refuge in the library. I donned my Disillusionment Charm behind a bookshelf and waited fifteen minutes before I dared leave. When I was safely in my dormitory, I removed my Disillusionment Charm, fixed my appearance, and collapsed onto my bed. I wondered if anyone had been caught…

The very next morning, notices had appeared everywhere in the castle.

~By Order of~

The Ministry of Magic

Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced

Albus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of

Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The notices were signed by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. As soon as I saw them, I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Snape wasn't at breakfast, so I slipped away from the Great Hall and went down to his office.

He was sitting at his desk when I entered. He was frowning slightly.

"What's going on, Severus? Where's Dumbledore?" I asked as soon as I shut the door behind myself.

"Well, Potter and his friends have been having secret meetings-"

"Yes, I know about that, but what happened to Dumbledore?" I demanded impatiently.

"…Dumbledore took the blame. He's gone off for a while, but he'll be back, I'm sure," he replied, "…what do you mean you know about the secret meetings?"

I considered my answer, then decided the truth was the best.

"I've been attending them all along."

"What?"

"Under an assumed identity," I added quickly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"Well at the time they started you were being a complete arse…and when you started being truthful…well, I wanted to have my own secret, you know?"

He looked annoyed, but after a few minutes he let out a sigh.

"Is there any way at all Umbridge can tie you to this…this Dumbledore's Army?" he inquired.

"Of course not. Like I said, I used an assumed identity. I changed my appearance and pretended to be in Ravenclaw."

"And the list of names she has?"

"I didn't use my real name."

"What name did you use?"

I hesitated a moment.

"…Elizabeth Evans," I muttered quietly. He stared at me wordlessly, then shook his head.

"You feel certain Dumbledore will be back?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yes. I cannot guarantee when he will return…but he will. Now, you should get going before someone notices your absence."

I sighed heavily.

"I'll be glad when this is over," I muttered, then left, letting the door slam shut behind me.

Despite Snape's reassurance that Dumbledore would be back, things seemed pretty bleak at Hogwarts. Umbridge started a group of select students called the Inquisitorial Squad who had the power to dole out punishments and dock points from their fellow students. Draco was one of the students selected for the Inquisitorial Squad. Of course I never expected an invitation to join, but one evening after supper, I was walking with Snape back towards the dungeons, asking him about the Potion's O.W.L. exams, when Umbridge called out to us.

"Ah, Professor Snape, and Miss Prewett, too. Just the two people I was looking for," Umbridge said, smiling. We glanced at each other warily before turning to face her. I felt that sick to my stomach feeling again.

"Hello Professor Umbridge," I said with a false, cheery smile that made her practically beam at me before she looked to Snape.

"Professor Snape, I could certainly use some Veritaserum later this evening," Umbridge said to him.

"May I ask why, Headmistress?" Snape asked her smoothly.

"I plan to interrogate Potter tomorrow about the whereabouts of Albus Dumbledore. I also suspect he knows where Sirius Black is," she replied. Snape's expression did not falter once.

"I see. Abigail, will you go down to my office and get the small vial of Veritaserum out of my desk?" Snape asked, turning to me.

"Yes, sir," I said, and hurried off towards the dungeons.

"Don't grab the Veritaserum," said a voice in my head, "Get the other, larger bottle."

What's in the other bottle? I asked, startled.

"A harmless substance. We can't have her asking Potter about the Order. Keep your thoughts veiled," he replied, then withdrew from my mind.

When I returned a few minutes later with the bottle in my hand Umbridge smiled brightly at me. Snape looked rather sour, and I wondered what they had been talking about before I arrived.

"Thank you, Miss Prewett. I've been meaning to ask you- how would you like to join the Inquisitorial Squad?" Umbridge asked, as if this were what any normal person wanted more than anything in the world.

"Me?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course, dear. I think you've made wonderful progress controlling your anger. You haven't had a detention in months," she said, smiling, "What do you say?"

I feigned a considerate look.

"Gee, I'm sorry Professor Umbridge, but with all the studying I have to do for my exams I really don't think I'd have the time. I'm sorry," I said with false sorrow.

"You'll only need three drops of that Veritaserum," Snape advised, but Umbridge was ignoring him.

"It's okay," she said smoothly, "I'll see you both later."

As soon as she was gone Snape laughed, startling me.

"Laying it on a little thick, weren't you, Abigail?" he teased, "Or have you really grown to like her?"

"Shut up," I said, scowling at him, "I hate that woman."

"I don't blame you. It's always good not to openly hate someone. You never know when they might become useful," he said, his face suddenly serious.

"What are you talking about?" I said, still scowling, "You openly hate everyone!"

I smiled faintly and he looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Not everyone," he said meaningfully, and then walked off towards the dungeons, leaving me with a slightly bemused expression on my face.

The next day I passed Potter in the hallway. He was being led by Filch, who was laughing wheezily.

"You filthy little beasts would never have dropped Stinkpellets if you'd known I had it in my power to whip you raw, would you, now?" Filch said delightedly, "Nobody would have thought of throwing Fanged Frisbees down the corridors if I could've strung you up by the ankles in my office, would they? But when Educational Decree Twenty-nine comes in, Potter, I'll be allowed to do them things…And she's asked the Minister to sign an order for the expulsion of Peeves…Oh, things are going to be very different around here with her in charge…"

I continued down the stairs, thinking how unpleasant it would be to have Filch string me up with the well-oiled chains that hung from the ceiling in his office. Then a thought came, completely unbidden by me, that it might not be so unpleasant if it were Snape. I dropped the books I was carrying in surprise that such a thing would cross my mind and I fell down the rest of the stairs. Luckily I was only a few feet from the bottom and didn't break my neck or any other bones.

"Are you alright?" asked an alarmed voice. I looked up to see Snape standing above me.

"Fine. Never better," I said quickly, stumbling to my feet before he could offer to help me up.

"What happened?" he asked, following me up the stairs so I could get my books.

"I was thinking about something and I tripped," I said faintly.

"Must've been something interesting."

"No, not at all," I said a little too quickly. He looked at me with a puzzled expression and I quickly blocked my mind. I realized I wasn't helping my case by blushing and I forced myself to be empty of all emotion.

"I was just on my way to lunch," I said as I picked up the last of my library books.

"Right. Well-"

He was interrupted by a large BOOM that shook the whole building.

"What the-?" I murmured, looking around.

Someone had set off a large crate of enchanted fireworks. Sparks were flying everywhere. A number of large dragons comprised entirely of sparks were zooming around emitting fiery bags as they went. Rockets with long silver tails were bouncing off the walls. Brilliant Sparklers were writing swearwords in mid air all by themselves. I couldn't help but laugh as one of the Sparklers wrote the word POO in large, red, letters. Suddenly, one of the large rockets flew straight at me. Before I had time to react Snape jumped in front of me, knocked me to the side, and with his wand raised, cried "Protego!" forming a shield and causing the rocket to fly off in the opposite direction.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked shortly as he helped me to my feet.

"Fine," I managed to say, staring at him blankly.

The fireworks hung around for the rest of the day and no matter what Umbridge did she couldn't get rid of them. By the next morning, however, they were all gone. I spent most of my day studying for the stupid O.W.L. exams, though for some reason I couldn't concentrate. It was nearing 7:00 when I remembered that Potter was having an Occlumency lesson with Snape. I tossed my Charms book aside and left the common room.

As I approached the classroom I heard a loud SMASH! I was even more startled when Potter ran past me so fast he was barely more than a blur. I arrived at the door to the classroom to find a broken jar of what appeared to be cockroaches. Snape was standing in the middle of the room, face white with fury, and his teeth clenched.

"What…?" I asked, but trailed off. I repaired the jar with my wand and I scooped up the dead cockroaches and put them into the jar. I walked into the room and shut the door. I put the jar back on the shelf where it belonged and took a seat in the chair in front of his desk. Snape still had not moved or spoken.

Slowly his face relaxed and his teeth unclenched. He walked over to his desk and took a seat.

"What happened?" I asked carefully, "Why'd you throw a jar of cockroaches at Potter?"

He indicated the bowl of Pensieve on the table. Potter had visited his memories. I swore loudly.

"I could jinx him for you, if you like. Probably Umbridge wouldn't even give me detention," I offered.

"No thanks," he said with a wry smile.

"I forgot he had an Occlumency lesson today," I said sheepishly, "Otherwise I would have come earlier."

"Don't worry about it. At least now I don't have to teach him anymore."

"But won't Dumbledore be mad? Isn't the Dark Lord planning on using Potter for something?" I asked, slightly alarmed.

"Do I care?" he replied, sighing heavily, "Dumbledore should have stayed to teach Potter himself if he wanted it done so badly."

"Point taken," I said, leaning back in my chair, "…I'm bored."

"Shouldn't you be studying?" he asked with a frown.

"I've got six whole weeks before the stupid exams. And I've never failed anything before. I highly doubt I'm going to fail my O.W.L.s," I retorted, "And I've been doing nothing but studying for hours! It's boring!"

"Well what am I supposed to do? Entertain you?" he asked wryly. I shot him an evil look, then sighed again.

"I shouldn't even be here, should I?" I muttered, standing up, "Later, Severus."

The Easter Holidays were filled with more studying and on the last day of the Holidays a notice appeared on the bulletin board.

CAREER ADVICE

All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting

With their Head of House during the first week of the

Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to

Discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments

Are listed below.

I checked the listed times and saw that I was going to miss Care of Magical Creatures class on Monday afternoon to have a short meeting in Snape's office. I was delighted.

"I never really thought about what I would like to do after Hogwarts," Jenny said to me, eyeing the bulletin, "What about you?"

"I dunno…but I've got two whole years, haven't I? Why do we have to start thinking about it now?"

Monday morning I made my way down to Snape's office, glad that I wouldn't have to see Umbridge. Snape was sitting at his desk, presumably waiting for me, when I entered. I was grinning broadly as I flopped down in the chair in front of his desk and he half-smiled at me.

"Well you seem to be in a cheerful mood," he commented.

"You kidding? No Umbridge, no Care of Magical Creatures…and a legitimate excuse to be here, where I would much rather be."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. I scowled at him.

"You know, Umbridge could have sat in on this session- she sitting in on Potter's session with Minerva this afternoon," he said to me.

"She's still monitoring Hagrid's classes," I replied with a shrug.

"…Have you given any thought as to what you would like to do after Hogwarts?"

"Nope."

"No need to sound so enthusiastic," he said sarcastically, "Come on, Abigail, there must be something."

"I really have no idea, Severus."

"Well, you're good with potions…"

"So I could be what- Potions Master?"

He scowled at me.

"You could get a job working at St. Mungo's, brewing healing potions."

"Exciting," I remarked sardonically, "…Why do I have to think about this, anyway? I'm only sixteen! I still have two years of Hogwarts left."

"Be serious, Abigail, this is important."

"Fine, whatever, I'll work at St. Mungo's. Whoop-de-do. Can we talk about something else now?"

He scoffed at me, then shrugged his shoulders.

"Where's Dumbledore?" I inquired, "When is he coming back? I'm tired of this Umbridge crap."

"I don't know, Abigail," he said heavily, "Sometimes he is at headquarters…other times, no one knows where he is."

"Well he better come back and set this shit straight," I said venomously.

"Language, Abigail," he warned.

"To hell with that! I'm tired to being cooped up and not being able to do anything- I haven't been out in tiger form in ages!"

And with that, I morphed into tiger form. A large part of me wanted to roar my frustration, but I didn't. I paced back and forth a minute before collapsing onto the floor, curling my tail around myself meekly. Snape looked sympathetic.

Later that evening, back in the Slytherin Common Room, everyone was talking about what the Weasley twins had done- apparently they had turned one of the corridors into a swamp and then flew out of Hogwarts on their broomsticks. I envied them greatly.

Over the next few weeks nothing deterred me from studying every spare moment, except perhaps the final Quidditch match of the year which I went to go see. To everyone's amazement Gryffindor won the House Cup, thanks to Ron Weasley who had become an excellent Keeper since his brothers left. I found myself missing D.A. lessons a lot more than I thought I would. I kept myself entertained by hexing students in the hallways between classes. Sometimes it was random, but most of the time it was members of the Inquisitorial Squad, especially Draco and Pansy.

The first O.W.L. exam took place one morning after breakfast. The fifth years all waited in the entrance hall until they called us forward into the Great Hall. It was arranged with hundreds of single desks lined up and I felt strangely calm as I took a seat at one of the desks. I looked down at my exam paper with renewed concentration and began.

After lunch we had our practical examination in Charms and I was pretty sure I had achieved an 'Outstanding'. My levitation Charm had been flawless and I had turned a rat purple without incident. As soon as I finished my practical exam I hurried upstairs to study for Transfiguration the next morning.

My other exams all went smoothly and on Thursday we had Defense Against the Dark Arts. I felt certain I had not missed a single question on my written exam and during the practical exam I took great pride in performing a number of counter-jinxes and defensive spells that I had learned in the D.A.. Umbridge looked surprisingly pleased.

"See, Miss Prewett," she whispered as I left the hall afterwards, "I told you that if you studied hard enough you could perform the spells."

I resisted the urge to punch her in the face and smiled at her.

I walked out of the Great Hall, still smiling to myself. I went, without really thinking about where I was going, and sat down in the shadow of a clump of bushes near the lake. I heard voices and looked over to see Harry Potter, Weasley, and Granger were all sitting around a tree, studying for their next exam.

On Monday we had our Potions exam and I also felt certain I managed an 'Outstanding' OWL. I'd done extremely well in both the written and practical exams.

We had a Divination practical exam one afternoon and we were going to have an Astronomy exam later that night when we could see the sky. I walked up the staircase to the Astronomy tower and found myself behind Potter and Weasley, who were discussing their exam.

"We shouldn't have taken the stupid subject in the first place," said Potter gloomily.

"Still, at least we can give it up now," Weasley replied.

"Yeah," Potter said, "No more pretending we care what happens when Jupiter and Uranus get too friendly…"

"And from now on I don't care if my tea leaves spell die, Ron, die- I'm just chucking them in the bin where they belong," Weasley said. I had to hang back a moment to have a laugh at that.

Halfway through my Astronomy exam I heard a loud BANG from the grounds. Almost everyone looked down towards Hagrid's hut where the door had burst open. Seven people walked out, one of them Hagrid. The other six seemed to be trying to stun him, though the spells were bouncing off him.

"No!" cried Granger from a little ways away from me.

"My dear! This is an examination!" said Professor Tofty, the overseer of our exams. No one was paying him any attention. Cries and yells were echoing across the grounds.

"Be reasonable, Hagrid!" cried a loud voice.

"Reasonable be damned, yeh won't take me like this, Dawlish!" Hagrid roared. The doors to the castle opened, flooding the grounds with light.

"How dare you!" shouted the voice, "How dare you!"

It was Professor McGonagall.

"Leave him alone! Alone, I say!" she continued, "On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such-"

No fewer than four Stunners flew straight at McGonagall and hit her dead in the chest. Three of the Gryffindor girls screamed.

"My God," I murmured. I had always been fond of McGonagall, even though she and Snape were extremely competitive. She was a strict teacher, but a good teacher. For a moment she looked luminous, illuminated by an eerie red glow, then she flew backwards, landed on her back, and moved no more.

"Galloping gargoyles!" shouted Professor Tofty, forgetting the exam, "Not so much as a warning! Outrageous behavior!"

"COWARDS!" bellowed Hagrid, "RUDDY COWARDS! HAVE SOME O' THAT- AN' THAT-"

He swung out, knocking two of his attackers out cold. He grabbed his dog, Fang, who had been knocked out by the Stunners, and ran to the gate. There was a long silence in which I felt sort of numb.

"Um…five minutes to go, everybody…" said Professor Tofty feebly. I hastened to complete my star chart.

Our last exam was History of Magic. I was doing quite well until Potter, who had fallen asleep, awoke with a yell, clutching his scar. Professor Tofty led him out into the entrance hall. I knew that Potter clutching his scar could mean nothing good. Probably something to do with the Dark Lord, I thought to myself. And I found myself very impatient for the exam to hurry up and get done with.

As soon as the exams were over I went down to Snape's office, but he wasn't there. Feeling slightly annoyed I resolved myself to wait for him. I sat down in his chair, drumming my fingers impatiently on his desk. He arrived an hour later and looked alarmed to find me sitting behind his desk.

"Potter had some sort of dream during our History of Magic exam," I said quickly, "I really have no idea what's going on but he was clutching his scar which made me thing it may have something to do with the Dark-"

A knock on the door interrupted us and Snape, thinking quickly, tapped me on the head with his wand to Disillusion me before telling the interrupter to enter. It was Draco. He looked slightly tussled, but excited at the same time.

"Professor Umbridge wants to see you in her office, sir," Draco said eagerly.

"Very well," Snape said lazily, following Draco out the door. I followed as well.

When we reached the office Draco held the door open for Snape and I slipped in as well. Six members of the Inquisitorial Squad held six, struggling former members of the D.A., one of which was Potter.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" Snape asked, glancing around the room with complete indifference.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely, "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," he said, observing her coolly, "Surely you did not use it all? I told you three drops would be sufficient."

I blinked my eyes once, surprised at how easily he had lied to her. I had sensed it in his emotions, but Umbridge had not. She had blushed, however.

"You can make some more, can't you?" she asked, her voice becoming more girlish and sweet. Is she trying to woo him? I wondered to myself, If she is, she's an idiot. A cold annoyance filled me nonetheless.

"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling, "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" Umbridge squawked, her girlish demeanor fading, "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" said Snape, looking faintly interested, "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."

I smirked slightly.

"I wish to interrogate him!" Umbridge shouted angrily, "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter- and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did- I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling…"

It was almost impossible for me to stifle my laughter, but I promised myself to laugh at it later.

"You are on probation!" shrieked Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, eyebrows slightly raised, "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of office!"

Snape bowed ironically and turned to leave.

"He's got Padfoot!" Potter shouted desperately, "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Snape paused with his hand on the door handle.

"Padfoot?" cried Umbridge, looking eagerly around, "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Snape turned around and looked at Potter, his face unreadable.

"I have no idea," said Snape coldly, "Potter, when I was nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if you ever apply for a job."

I hurried out of the room with Snape and he closed the door behind him with a snap. He took off walking quickly towards the stairs.

"What's going on? Who is Padfoot?" I asked quickly.

"He means Black. Potter's had a vision of the Dark Lord with Black in the Department of Mysteries," he replied shortly.

"What are you going to do?" I asked as we reached his office and he shut the door behind us. He sat down at his desk and pulled out a bit of parchment.

"I'm going to send a message to headquarters to verify that Black is there," he replied absently as he wrote something hastily.

"What-? Oh…you think the Dark Lord may be planting false images in his mind," I realized.

"Exactly."

He finished writing and tapped the parchment with his wand. It disappeared. A few minutes later a different piece of parchment appeared and Snape read it quickly.

"Black is at headquarters. I was right," he said, eyes gleaming.

We hurried back towards Umbridge's office but by the time we got there the door was ajar and empty except for the members of the Inquisitorial Squad, most of whom had been hit with Stunning Spells. Draco had giant flying things attacking his face.

"Damn that Potter," I heard Snape mutter. He managed to reverse the spell damage done to all of the Inquisitorial Squad.

"Where is the Headmistress?" Snape asked Draco.

"She went off with Potter into the forest, along with that Mudblood, Granger," Draco replied shakily, "They said something about Dumbledore's secret weapon. We saw them go into the forest through the window."

"Alright, I'll take care of it. You all can go. I believe there is a feast in the Great Hall to celebrate the end of the exams," Snape said to them, not bothering to reprimand Draco for his use of the offensive term. They all left the room.

"How thick do you have to be to believe Potter and go into the forest?" I muttered, peering out the window, "And what's that rubbish about a secret weapon?"

"Potter must have something stupid planned to get away from Umbridge. We can only wait and see if he comes out of the forest alive."

We waited for an extremely long time, looking out the window in Umbridge's office. When nobody reappeared after almost an hour we gave up.

"I'll have to alert the Order. Potter's probably found a way to get to the Ministry of Magic," Snape said, searching Umbridge's desk for a piece of parchment. Unfortunately all of Umbridge's parchment was pink and perfume-scented. He held it up disgustedly.

"Does she not have any normal parchment at all?" he said, annoyed.

"I suppose not," I said with a faint smile, "But I suggest you not write a note to the Order on a piece of pink perfumed paper. You may never hear the end of it."

"I wasn't going to," he retorted irritably, and we went back to his office. He quickly scribbled a note to the Order and moments later received one in response. They exchanged notes for about 10 minutes before Snape told me what was going on.

"Four members of the Order are going to the Ministry. A number of Death Eaters are there. A big showdown, apparently," he informed me.

"You don't have to go, do you?" I asked quietly, feeling myself go pale. He surveyed me silently.

"No. My orders are to stay here."

"Good," I said with a sigh of relief, "…What happened to Umbridge?"

"I imagine she's still in the forest. Lost, most likely."

"Good," I repeated, smiling.

The next morning when I went up to breakfast Dumbledore had returned and Umbridge was still gone. Everyone looked a little more cheerful than usual, except the caretaker Filch and the members of the Inquisitorial Squad.

What's going on? What happened? I asked Snape in my head as I passed the staff table on the way to the Slytherin table.

"The good guys won…sort of. I'll tell you about it later," he replied.

After breakfast I left the table and followed Snape down to his classroom. Our classes had been cancelled for the day, though almost no one knew why. Potter and his friends hadn't been at breakfast and no one seemed to know what had happened.

"So what happened?" I asked as I sat down in the chair across from Snape's desk.

"There was a big fight. A few Death Eaters got put in Azkaban and Sirius Black was killed," he replied, "but Dumbledore showed up in the end and saved Potter from the Dark Lord. The good news is that the Minister saw the Dark Lord before he disappeared, so now everyone in the wizarding world is going to know and start taking necessary precautions before-…"

"Before what?" I asked quietly.

"Before things get a lot worse," he said finally, "Now that everyone knows the Dark Lord is back he won't be so keen on hiding anymore."

"So…people are going to start dying?"

"Most likely."

I felt my face pale slightly.

"Which Death Eaters got put in Azkaban?" I inquired.

"Well, Lucius Malfoy for one-" Snape said, not looking at all happy.

"Draco's father?" I asked, amazed.

"Yes, though I daresay those who were captured will be out soon enough. The dementors are no longer under Ministry control."

"Do you think that people will really believe he's back? After all the lies the newspaper's fed them over the past year…"

"I believe they plan to print something in the newspaper. They'll probably send out guides in defense as well. They did last time," he replied quietly.

"Last time," I repeated, thinking back to everything I had learned about the Dark Lord's last reign of terror, "Will it be as bad as last time?"

He hesitated slightly.

"Worse, maybe. The Dark Lord wants revenge against those who betrayed him, those who ridiculed him…most of all he wants Potter."

When I left Snape's office a short while later, I made my way out to the grounds. Now that Hogwarts was back under Dumbledore's control, I could go out in tiger form. I had just reached the edge of the forest and morphed when I heard someone say my name. I turned to see Dumbledore walked casually towards the forest.

"Oh. It's you," I said indifferently, "What are you doing?"

"It has come to my knowledge that Professor Umbridge was captured by a herd of centaurs. I feel obligated to help her," Dumbledore replied.

"I know where the centaurs usually are. Would you like for me to show you?" I offered quietly, "It's been ages since I've been in the forest."

"I would be glad of the company, if nothing else."

Dumbledore followed me in complete silence. It felt good to walk on all fours again. The forest ground felt soft beneath my paws. Suddenly, something- a pungent smell- stung my nose. My ears laid back flat on my head and I felt a growl rise in my throat.

"What is that?" I muttered, glancing at Dumbledore. He shrugged and followed me as I followed my nose towards whatever it was.

A number of trees had been ripped out of the earth and looking around, I saw the source of this- a sixteen foot tall giant. I felt faint.

"So this must be Grawp," Dumbledore said, beaming.

"Grawp?" I repeated faintly.

"Hagrid's half-brother."

The giant was looking down at me interestedly.

"Kitty!" he exclaimed and made to grab me. Alarmed, I swiped at the giant's fist with my claws and left a deep wound. He howled loudly.

"It looks as if the centaurs have been here," Dumbledore commented.

"How can you tell?" I asked, watching as the giant walked off.

"Grawp appears to have had a run in with them."

He pointed to the giant's back and shoulders where several arrows were stuck. I pricked my ears forward- I could hear hoof beats.

"Hagrid will take care of Grawp. Let us find Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes cold at saying her name.

My ears pricked forward, I led Professor Dumbledore straight into the center a centaur herd. They all looked wild and a lot less tame than they had when I met them all those years before.

"How dare you come into our midst, humans!" roared Bane. A few others stomped the ground angrily with the forefeet, but most were looking at Dumbledore with a nervous sort of reverence. Then I spotted a familiar black pelt and bright blue eyes. Orion.

"I wish merely to speak with you, Bane. You have a woman by the name of Dolores Umbridge who does not belong amongst you," Dumbledore said to Bane.

"She came into this forest with her magic, calling us filthy half-breeds of near-human intelligence! We will do whatever we like with her!"

"Let us talk about this, civilly, Bane," Dumbledore insisted calmly. Finally Bane inclined his head and Dumbledore approached him so that they could talk. The rest of the herd stood around, either listening or looking off. Orion trotted over to me.

"Abigail Prewett. It is nice to see you again," he said to me.

"And you, Orion," I replied with a slight bow.

"Did you take heed of my warning?" he asked quietly, "Do you trust more now?"

"Hm…I trust few," I decided after a moments thought, "Severus, for one…and Dumbledore, too, I suppose."

"Dumbledore is very wise, for a human."

"Will Bane return Umbridge?"

"…Probably."

"I wouldn't be to fussed if he didn't, honestly. She's one of the most unpleasant people I've ever met. Where is she?"

Orion nodded to a spot a little ways off where a small group of large centaurs surrounded a large figure.

"She's unconscious, I believe. They tied her up," Orion informed me. At that moment Bane and Dumbledore ceased talking to each other and Bane lifted his head to address the herd.

"Dumbledore will take this woman away and have our land properly restored to us," Bane announced, to much cheering and stomping of hooves from the herd. Dumbledore strode over to where Umbridge was and used his wand to hoist her unconscious body into the air.

"Farewell, Abigail," Orion said as I made to follow Dumbledore, "I hope I will see you again sometime."

"I am sure you will…now that she is gone."

"And," he added in a low voice, "Give my regards to my grandson, Firenze."

I nodded my head, surprised by this new bit of information…but I could sort of see the resemblance. They had the same bright blue eyes.

When we got back up to the castle, Dumbledore took Umbridge up to the Hospital Wing. Instead of following him, I went for a stroll around the grounds in tiger form, enjoying my freedom. I was glad things were going to be back to normal.

On Sunday morning Snape and I were heading outside- we were going to the forest to look for herbs, now that the centaurs weren't so angry. We were ascending the staircase leading into the Entrance Hall when we saw Potter, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle standing there talking.

"-You think you're such a big man, Potter," said Draco, advancing towards Potter with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him, "You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in prison-"

"I thought I just had," said Potter. I snickered quietly and Snape thumped me on the head.

"The dementors have left Azkaban," said Draco softly, "Dad and the others'll be out in no time…"

"Yeah, I expect they will," said Potter, "Still at least everyone knows what scumbags they are now-"

Draco went for his wand, but Potter was faster. He had drawn his wand before Draco even laid a finger on his pocket.

"Potter!" Snape said loudly, entering the Entrance Hall. At the sight of him, Potter felt a rush of hatred so strong it surprised me.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Snape asked coldly as ever as he strode over to the four of them. I stayed hidden in the shadows.

"I'm trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir," said Potter fiercely. I chuckled quietly and Snape merely stared at him.

"Put that wand away at once," Snape said curtly, "Ten points from Gryff-"

Snape looked toward the giant hourglasses on the walls that kept track of house points and sneered.

"Ah, I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hourglass to take away. In that case, Potter, we simply have to-"

"Add some more?"

Professor McGonagall had just come stumping up the stone steps leading into the castle. She was carrying a tartan carpet bag in one had and leaning heavily on a walking stick with her other, but otherwise she looked quite well.

"Professor McGonagall!" said Snape, striding forward, "Out of St. Mungo's, I see!"

"Yes, Professor Snape. I'm quite as good as new. You two- Crabbe- Goyle-"

She beckoned them forward imperiously and they came, shuffling their feet awkwardly.

"Here," she said, thrusting her traveling cloak into Goyle's hands and her carpetbag into Crabbe's, "Take these up to my office for me."

They turned and walked away up the marble staircase.

"Right then," said McGonagall, looking at the hourglasses on the wall, "Well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape?"

"What?" he snapped, "Oh- well- I suppose…"

"So that's fifty each for Potter, the two Weasleys, Longbottom, and Miss Granger," said McGonagall, and a shower of rubies fell down into the bottom bulb of the Gryffindor hourglass, "Oh- and fifty for Miss Lovegood, I suppose. Now you wanted to take ten from Mr. Potter, I think, Professor Snape- so there we are…"

A few rubies retreated into the upper bulb, leaving a respectable amount below nonetheless.

"Well, Potter, Malfoy, I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this," said McGonagall briskly. Potter at once thrust his wand back inside his robes and headed straight for the doors without a second glance behind himself. Draco, scowling, retreated back towards the dungeon Common Room. McGonagall headed for the Grand Staircase with a satisfied expression on her face. I slipped out of the shadows then and went to Snape's side.

"Come on," I said to him, watching McGonagall retreating figure, "Let's go gather plants."

Umbridge left Hogwarts the day before the end of term. She'd snuck out of the hospital wing during dinnertime, hoping to sneak away unnoticed, but she met Peeves the poltergeist on the way out. Peeves had borrowed McGonagall's cane and was beating Umbridge with it as he chased her out of the castle. Most of the students, including myself, ran out onto the grounds to cheer Peeves on. The Heads of Houses didn't really try to restrain us. Indeed, Professor McGonagall simply sat back in her chair, smiling. Snape told me later she had voiced her desire to join in the cheering but couldn't because Peeves had taken her cane.

The last day of the term dawned brightly. I spent most of my day packing up all of my things. After saying goodbye to my fellow students as they went to board the train, I went down to Snape's office. He already had on his traveling cloak and was rubbing his forearm in an irritated sort of way.

"I'll have to drop you off at the house and then go to the Dark Lord," he said to me.

"Alright then," I said heavily, knowing it couldn't be helped, "What is it you have to do?"

"Probably just give a report," he replied with a shrug as he headed for the door, "Come along, Abigail."

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter ended so abruptly, but I'll try to have the 6th chapter up as soon as possible. It's already written- all I have left to do is review and edit it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed Year 5 and will continue following the story.

~TheVampyre13

PS: It came to my attention that Animagus' don't retain their ability to talk when they are in their animal form (Thanks to Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump). Unfortunately, this information came a little too late for me to make amends, so, for the sake of this fanfic and any spawning sequels (I'm not making any promises) Animagus' will be able to talk in animal form.