Snape
In the end, Severus had no choice about allowing his ward the Firebolt. Minerva and Filius had checked it backwards and forwards, as had the defunct Harpy, Hooch. His employer had made it clear in no uncertain terms that the broom was a safe as any other in the school, and after Minerva had mentioned that Severus had been unwilling to see his team face true competition he'd been unable to raise any further objections. Manipulative old cat.
Very deep in a secret part of his soul, well hidden from prying eyes and mages, Severus had to admit that he was looking forward to seeing his ward fly on the world class broom. Potter had always been graceful in the air, even on the schools cobweb sweepers, and Severus had admired the boy's agility in the air. With a broom such as this the boy would surely be a marvel to watch, or at least he would once he got the hang of the thing. He had considered moving the Slytherin game forward, so that his team had a chance against Potter while he was still learning, but decided against it when he caught the team at practice. Malfoy was clumsy and slow compared to the Head of Slytherin's Ward, and Severus made note of several skills that the boy would need to master before going up against the grace of Potter.
The day of the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw was clear and cold and Severus wore his best cloak to the stands, seating himself prominently amongst the staff. The Ravenclaw team were announced, and he nodded to Filius when the Charms Master offered a sporting comment on the match. Minerva looked a little tense as Gryffindor were called out, but relaxed like a cat in a sunny spot when the crimson and gold players bloomed out onto the pitch in perfect formation, Potter a blur as he lapped the stadium once, pulling up into his pre-game position with insolent ease. Severus didn't bother to restrain his smirk when Filius groaned.
As the match progressed, his smirk grew wider. He'd made the right choice in giving his team as much practice time as possible before facing Potter in the Cup final. The boy moved as if he was floating without a broom, bludgers and other players a mere speck on his horizon as he twirled effortlessly about the stadium looking for the snitch. Chang was doing her best to mark him, but Severus had no doubt that Potter would prevail, even if she did manage to spot the snitch first.
Sure enough, the Ravenclaw Seeker did manage to spot the snitch first, for all the good it did her; and the Potions Master was well aware that her advantage had come about because Potter was assisting his Chasers by disrupting the Ravenclaw Beaters. Severus' ward was after her in a flash, and they were neck and neck when several of the students started shouting.
"Dementors, Dementors!"
Severus recognised Slytherin voices among the cries, and grit his teeth in frustration. Potter glanced down at the two ragged cloaks at the edge of the stadium and pulled his wand. The boys face was pale, but he did not break off his pursuit of the snitch, a foolhardy move that Severus made note to speak to him about. The boy pointed his wand at the cloaked figures, even as the teachers rose to try and deal with the problem, shouting a spell that had taken Severus two years to learn.
"Expecto Patronum!"
The boy's wand bucked and a huge form erupted from it, charging towards its enemy with deadly purpose while Potter once more sped up to focus on the snitch. Severus watched with fascination as the corporeal patronus barged headfirst into the two cloaked figures, knocking them over with terrified squawks.
He wasn't sure what galled him the most. The werewolf successfully teaching Potter a spell that Severus had insisted was far too advanced for his ward, or the fact that he recognised the squawks. Slytherin House was going to rue the day it attempted such pointless sabotage of the House Cup. Behind closed doors, of course.
He reached the fake Dementors as the golden stag standing over them faded away, its protection unneeded. He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought the thing nodded at him in acknowledgement as it did; an issue to address later as his House Quidditch Seeker and Captain struggled to free themselves of their ragged costumes, leaving the confused Crabbe and Goyle – he'd recognise their unintelligent grunts anywhere – still tangled in the folds of cloth.
Malfoy and Flint looked terrified, as well they should be, for so stupidly provoking a teen that could produce such ridiculously powerful magic so young, not to mention the idiocy of invoking his wrath by Sullying the Name of Slytherin. In the background he heard Potter chattering to the werewolf, and the sentimental congratulations the thing offered was enough to turn his stomach.
Severus suppressed an annoyed sigh and turned to deal with his erring students.
0o0o0o0
Life continued apace. Slytherin's disgraced students spent a large amount of time scrubbing their housemate's loos and bathrooms behind closed doors, which in the tradition of the House were left especially dirty. Slytherin was swift in dealing with recalcitrant students, allowing it to present a united front in public. Potter continued his odd truce with his Guardian, working especially hard in all of his subjects according to the reports that Severus extracted from his colleagues. He was fully aware that they found it amusing, to see him so 'concerned' for the Potter brat, a child he had spent quite some time decrying behind closed doors. Had they bothered to ask, he would have continued to decry the boy and his abilities, just because the brat was his Ward didn't mean he was going soft on the little idiot.
He was particularly irked when said little idiot was caught by himself out of bounds one evening, bearing a parchment designed to insult people. The werewolf had come along and confiscated the artefact, promising to investigate it for Dark Magic. He'd had to forego a good long lecture and a series of detentions, and he had the feeling that the brat hadn't told his favourite teacher that Severus was his Guardian; that was knowledge that he could hold over the brat at a later date.
Severus had come to the conclusion that Potter was quite happy being the pet of the werewolf, and had attempted on one of the lessons he'd covered for the Defence Against Dark Arts Professor to point the more alert students to the truth. It was possible that only Granger had made the connections he was trying to draw, and he was unsure when or even if she would share her conclusions with the rest of the Trio. As much as he would have liked to ban Potter from the werewolf's company he had no real reason to do so – despite the prevailing prejudices Severus was well aware that for twenty-five out of twenty-eight days a werewolf was no more dangerous to the public than the average witch or wizard.
Of course, Potter hadn't caused nearly enough trouble this year, as was proved in the last week of the summer term. It was early evening on the first day of the full moon that Dizzy popped into his study, beside itself with fear and worry.
"Master Severus, Little Master Harry is sending me to you! Little Master Harry is heading to the Shrieking Shack! The Grim has his Wheezy and Little Master Harry is rescuing him! Little Master Harry says that they are going down the secret passage at the Whomping Willow!"
Severus leapt to his feet, snatching his cloak and racing for the door, not even bothering to acknowledge the elf. The Grim! It could only be a trap, and with Black no closer to being caught, whatever that dog was it was probably connected to the escaped convict. Blast Potter and his Gryffindor foolishness! When he got his hands on the boy there would be hell to pay! Potter would think twice about leaping into danger, even if a friend was being dismembered in front of him!
He hared up the stairs and through the foyer, ignoring the people there with grim determination. The front steps were taken three at a time and he didn't even pause as he sprinted the length of the castle, aiming for the corner around which the Whomping Willow was concealed. He got there in time to see the werewolf in the distance, stunning the tree at a particular knot and sliding down the roots, disappearing into what was obviously the secret passage that Dizzy had named.
Cursing under his breath, Severus pulled his wand and redoubled his pace. He had always suspected that the werewolf was not entirely aligned with the side of the Light: after all he had been Potter Seniors friend, and best friend with Black as well. If anyone was likely to betray Potter for the sake of Black it was Lupin. In fact, Severus had a suddenly nasty suspicion that the entire year had been an elaborate ploy on Lupin's part to gain Potter's trust. At the time, he had spoken against the beast's employment, but had not been able to shout down the opposition. Now he had the grim satisfaction of being proven correct, possibly at the cost of his Wards life.
The ridiculous tree tried to decapitate him, and it was all he could do to restrict himself to a stunning spell, instead of severing the thing at its base and carving his initials in the stump. He slid down into the tunnel under the tree, memories dogging him uneasily. The last time he'd made this journey there had been an uncontrolled werewolf on the other end, one that tried to eat him, and would have succeeded if Potter the Senior hadn't stopped it.
He hesitated at the bottom of the short, crude stairs that led to the exit before steeling his nerve and proceeding cautiously. He ghosted silently but thoroughly through the ground floor rooms, shuddering at each new evidence that the Shack had housed a werewolf in its younger years, said werewolf being upstairs now with Severus' own Ward. The children were not down there and he wafted carefully up the stairs, all of his old mastery of the spying techniques he'd applied during the last attempted rise of the Dark Lord surging to the fore once more.
At the top of the stairs he could hear voices and allowed them to draw him towards the door almost exactly opposite. He stopped before his shadow could cross the doorway and listened carefully to the fantastic events unfolding inside. Potter was not, it seemed, in danger beyond the usual, as Lupin was not, it seemed, assisting the convict. Said convict was spinning a fantastic tale about swapping the role of Secret Keeper with Peter Pettigrew, the little sycophant that had followed the other three around and been amiably tolerated and sheltered as a fellow Gryffindor. In return the little pest had apparently betrayed the very people he'd taken an oath to protect straight to the Dark Lord.
Things came to a head when the two adults, and he used the term loosely, turned their wands on the pet ret that Weasley favoured. Moments later the cringing tones of Pettigrew sounded in the room, something that Severus had never thought to hear again. His heart pounded at the idea that the Dark Lord had a spy of his own in the Order, something that he should have known and informed Albus of immediately. This did not bode well for Severus' standing amongst the Death Eaters should they ever be recalled to their Master's side. Albus did not believe the Dark Lord was forever vanquished, not yet, and Severus had to agree that there was a lacking sense of finality to the whole affair.
Shouting made him grip his wand tensely, and moments later a small form burst from the door, scurrying for the stairs frantically. Severus took great pleasure in stunning it, then petrifying it, sealing the spells with a ward lock of his own device and finally looking up in time to meet Lupin's startled gaze. The wretched beast was looking particularly unwell, no doubt as a result of the upcoming transformation, for which Severus had brewed and delivered the required dose of Wolfsbane only this afternoon.
"Did you take your potion, Lupin?" Severus snapped, and the werewolf jumped, becoming even sicklier in the half light.
"No… I dropped it!" he gasped, panic clearly lining his face.
"Remus, did you get him… Snape!" the convict looked terrible, but Severus had no time for him, his attention fixed solely on the monster in human form in front of him. He leaned down and pocketed Pettigrew absently while Lupin began babbling a warning to the convict, looking back into the room where the teens were in horror.
"Potter! Get hold of Weasley and Granger! Now!" Severus roared, hoping that Potter had continued to wear the portkey he had given his Ward only last Summer. He had been very pleased that the boy hadn't taken it off the moment he returned to the castle, which at least showed that he appreciated the artistry and talent that had gone into his making of the amulet.
"Got them!" Potter yelled back and Severus cut his wand through the air in a savage twist. The men in the doorway flinched, much to his satisfaction, but in the room behind them there was the distinctive sound of air displacement as the portkey activated and took the children out of harms way. He didn't wait around to try and capture Black. With Pettigrew in his pocket, Severus flew down the stairs at a pace that was well above what would be considered strictly safe. Moonrise was only minutes away and he knew that the beast couldn't get out of the Shack or into the tunnel. All he had to do was get into the tunnel and he would be safe. If Lupin infected, or killed, Black that was no concern of his. The convict's name could just as easily be cleared posthumously, and the traitor to the Order needed to be placed in Albus' hands.
Screams and howls tore their way out of a throat that wasn't entirely human, and Severus sped up, sliding the last few yards and dropping into the tunnel as the unearthly noise continued. The sounds chased him as he ran at full pace towards the castle, wanting to be sure that Potter had arrived uninjured, and also wanting to be sure that the boy didn't start dashing around the castle, shouting the information he'd just learned where anyone could hear him. Severus was well aware that some of the students in the school reported to their parents on a regular basis – the literate ones anyway – and not all of the parents were what you would call Light.
Mostly he just wanted to get his hands on his wayward Ward and ensure that the brat was unharmed.
That way the punishments he was plotting wouldn't need to be deferred.
0o0o0o0
Potter was on the stairs with Granger and Weasley. He and the chit were holding the faintly green redhead between them, and from the hasty bandage charm it was apparent that Weasley had injured his leg. Severus didn't say anything, merely glared and carefully levitated Weasley up the stairs, which allowed them all to move much faster and get to the Hospital Wing much sooner. He summoned the Headmaster with a Patronus spell, then constructed a more sturdy prison for Pettigrew, dumping the rat in unceremoniously and sealing it with a Ward that would last for at least three days unless he personally countered it. That done, Severus watched as Potter huddled over against one of the windows, frantic over the fate of his friend and more than a little concerned about the sort of punishment he was facing for rushing foolishly into danger, sending a House Elf with a message instead of appearing in person and generally acting the part of a Gryffindor.
That was as it should be and Severus would have left him to stew on the matter for a bit longer if the boy hadn't yelped like a puppy that had been kicked and bolted for the door. He unfortunately was nimble enough to avoid the incarceration spells that Severus sent his way, and Granger jumped foolishly between Potter and the Potion Masters' wand, obviously believing that he wouldn't stoop so low as to hex a pre-pubescent chit of a girl.
Had the Headmaster not appeared at that point she'd have found out precisely how wrong she was. Forced to restrain his impulses Severus snarled and took to his heels, following in the foolish boys wake. It was not hard to track the child – the portraits were bound to assist a teacher in pursuit of a student, and the guardian bond was a subtle force in its own right, tugging him towards his errant charge. Though he was closing the gap, Potter was so fleet of foot that he still only caught sight of the hems of the boys robe as he flew through the front door, hopefully tripping on his own feet and fetching up at the bottom of the front steps.
Severus cursed loudly and at length when he realised that Potter had negotiated the steps and was almost to the edge of the Forbidden Forrest. Above the Forrest, swarms of black ragged cloaks were circling ominously down to a single point. The Dementors had found something to prey on, and he had a suspicion as to what, or rather who, it was. That Potter harboured the same suspicion was evident as the brat plunged into the forest, calling his godfathers name.
"Potter!" the roar was all he could spare breath for, and the brat glanced back for a bare second before calling the convicts name again and plunging into the shadows. Severus hesitated for a second before following, knowing full well that there was an adult werewolf running amok in the area, one that had quite possibly gotten out of the Shrieking Shack the same way the convict had. He couldn't allow his ward to die though, nor could he permit the boy to be infected, so he grit his teeth and plunged on through the undergrowth, wishing the Guardian Bond was telepathic so the brat knew precisely what Severus thought of this foolishness.
A few hundred yards in, the Lake was fed by a series of ponds and tributaries, and it was there that the Dementors were amassing. They were swooping in eager paths over the prone human form of the convict, and several appeared to be fighting to be the one to administer the Kiss that they had been promised. Potter was huddled at the edge of the clearing, clutching his head and his wand, panting and shaking and looking as if he would faint at any moment. The insidious effect of the Dementors was tugging even at Severus' formidable defences, something that made him more than a little unwilling to venture any closer than he already was.
"Potter!" Severus hissed, one hand latching with an iron grip onto his ward's shoulder. The brat leaned into him, seeking warmth and protection; it was all he could do to allow the touch.
"We c-can't j-just l-let h-him d-d-d-ie!" Potter moaned, "P-please, sir!"
"For Salazar's sake," Severus registered his protest, "Stay here then!"
He had no intention of emerging into the open, moving forward just enough to be in front of Potter without having to let him go. He had no intention of letting the brat out of his grip until they were once more within the safety of the castle proper. Potter would not run away from him again.
"Accio Black," Severus rasped, faltering as the unnatural cold and dread wrapped itself around him. The convicts arm twitched towards them, but the rest of him didn't move at all. Potter made a soft keening noise and raised his wand as well. His body was trembling violently under Severus' grip but his hand was steady and his aim true.
"Together," the boy gasped, and Severus nodded, taking a deliberate breath to cue the child into his timing.
"Accio Black," their voices sounded as one and the convict darted sideways for about a yard before snagging on something and stopping again. Severus cursed as their actions called the attention of the Dementors to their location and the cold and misery that they wore as a part of their cloaks wrapped around him and the boy.
"Expecto Patronum!" Severus snapped, and a shielding mist erupted from his wand, holding some of the effects at bay.
"Expecto Patronum!" Albus' voice called in the distance, and the corporeal Phoenix flew around and above Severus and the brat, driving the Dementors back in the direction of their intended victim. One swooped down hungrily, hissing in vexation, its hand reaching for Black's head. Potter gasped and Severus tried to decide if he could cover the brat's eyes and still maintain his spell when the teen beside him stiffened and shot his wand out.
It was like plunging one hand into the heart of the strongest wards possible. The hand Severus had clenched on Potter's shoulder went numb from the sheer amount of power bleeding off from the boy.
"Expecto Patronum."
It wasn't shouted or whispered or moaned, merely said as if part of the most casual spell in the lexicon. The world seemed to explode. Potter's Stag rushed forward, beating back the Dementor and then standing over Black, tossing its antlers at the enemy that came too close. Powerful waves of the purest light poured from Potter, lighting the world around them in stark black and white, driving the coven of Dementors away, squealing and hissing in pain and anger.
Only when the last of the foul creatures had gone did Potter relax, recalling the Stag to him. The light dimmed and faded as the beast trotted over obediently, dipping its head down towards its caster and fading away. Potter sighed once and then sagged, forcing Severus to drop his wand to catch the boy, dragging him into his lap and cradling him against his chest. Hurried footsteps preceded Albus' arrival and the elderly Headmaster knelt beside them, his eyes showing his shock.
"Great galloping hippogriffs," the old coot muttered, running a thin hand over dark locks. It was all Severus could do not to slap the hand away from his charge and his best glare wasn't enough to prevent a similar indignity from occurring to himself.
"Did you find Pettigrew?" Severus asked instead, not sure he had the strength to discuss the latest Potter related disaster. The boy had of course overstrained himself again, which meant that he would once more need isolation and rest. At least the castle hadn't removed the boy's rooms completely, he could rest there, away from the media circus that was bound to follow this evenings events.
"I found a rat that Miss Granger insisted was Pettigrew," Albus replied cautiously, "If what she reported is true…"
"It probably is," Severus didn't like admitting it, and twisted his arm to pick up his wand. Potter's was still in his hand and he took hold of that too before standing up; the boy was a small weight in his arms and Severus made a note to revise the potions the brat was to take this summer, "You take care of the convict, I want to put Potter to bed."
0o0o0o0