Thank you kindly to all who have read, reviewed, and put this fic (and me as an author) on your alerts and favorite lists. As of this posting there are 104 people who have this fic on their alert list, and 77 people who have it on their favorite list. There are 18 members who put me on their favorite authors list, and 20 members who have put me on your author alert lists. I thank all of you, and give you grape juice and macaroons of your favorite flavor. Happy holidays!

My friend and collaborator Cynthia lent her first and middle name to my Second Year Hufflepuff student, for which I am sincerely thankful. It's all about the love!

If there are any parts and pieces which are familiar, they should be, a little. Slughorn's memory is lifted wholesale from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, chapters 17 and 23. (I honestly figured that the memory should be transmitted perfectly, and I couldn't think of a better way to do that than to do it the way J.K. Rowling did it.) The destruction of the locket was heavily inspired by Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chapter 19.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, Harry Potter, or A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Chapter 27

After having Daniel turn in his midterm project and start "A Midsummer Night's Dream," and reviewing basic statistics for their use in following the stock market and insurance purposes, Vlad hugged Danny before dismissing him for the evening. The more time he spent with Daniel, the more Vlad realized he never truly learned to appreciate the boy. Part of the boy's hero complex was built from what he inherited of Jack's exuberance, and Vlad was only beginning to see the merit of this side of him. The kindness and patience the boy had were inherited from Maddie.

Vlad sighed and teleported to his room. He sat disconsolately in thought in a chair by the coffee table when his ghost sense went off. He glared at the door. "Who is it?"

"Sir Nicholas." Vlad decided that if any ghost besides Danny was to interrupt his reflections, he was glad it was this one.

"Come in."

The older ghost said, "Professor Dumbledore suggested you might like some company this evening."

"The Headmaster doesn't miss a beat, does he?" Vlad gestured Sir Nicholas to a seat.

Sir Nicholas drifted over to the chair nearest Vlad's. He couldn't actually sit in it, but he knew it would be disconcerting if he didn't look like he did. He smiled and said, "Very few and far in between. It occurs to me that you could use a cup of tea. If you snap your fingers and concentrate on what you want to eat or drink, the elves will send it up." He grinned. "It is a perk of being a professor."

Vlad was amused at how the House Ghosts stopped needing sustenance or convenience, but were ever mindful of the needs of the living. "Thank you. I think I will." He snapped his fingers and a tea service appeared with a plate of cookies. He hadn't thought of cookies. An elf must have taken the desires of humans into consideration. Vlad might go down and thank them some day. For now, he poured himself a cup and took a sip.

Sir Nicholas waited. Vlad would speak when he was ready.

Vlad closed his eyes, organizing his thoughts. "It is hard for me to fathom how much pain love seems to cause, and the insanity it drives people to." Sir Nicholas nodded encouragingly. "For years I… well, it doesn't matter what I did, but let's just say it wasn't entirely ethical, mostly out of anger, but also, I suppose, to prove myself. If I couldn't have my beloved Maddie, I would have a financial empire." He stared at his cup. "I imagine that my thoughts ran somewhere between, 'If I could financially outperform Jack Fenton, Maddie would realize what a mistake she made in choosing him,' and 'I've managed to acquire just about everything else I wanted, minus my favorite sports team, so the only thing left was seeking out my long lost love.'

"While I'm hardly the first man in the world to turn to illicit means to assuage my jealousy and loneliness, it never would have dawned on me that there were three of us in such close quarters. Apparently, Severus Snape lost his 'beloved Lily' to James Potter, and the Bloody Baron was once not so bloody, but desired the fair hand of Lady Helena, or 'the Grey Lady'."

Vlad took a cookie, but stared ahead, his vision on his thoughts. "This evening, when Lady Helena said that the Baron became violent, and stated that he was always a hot-tempered man, I thought for a moment that she was talking about me." Vlad put the cookie on the saucer and continued, "I've been violent. You know that. But never to Maddie. My plans always involved removing Jack from the picture, sometimes with violence against Daniel, who got in my way, but never did they involve harming Maddie."

Sir Nicholas shook his head. "No, Vlad. You never intended harm against Maddie. But surely, you can see that harming her husband and son would indeed hurt someone as loving as Madeline Fenton, can't you?"

Vlad grabbed the cookie and bit it viciously. "Well, what's Snape's story?"

Sir Nicholas took a moment. Vlad asked about the private details of the life of a professor, and such things were not for public discussion. However, Professor Snape's darker moments were on public record, and perhaps discussing this might soothe the angry young man before him.

"Professor Snape grew up in the same neighborhood as Lily Evans, Harry's mother. They were close for years. James Potter and Sirius Black led a small band of four students. For the most part, they were harmless pranksters, like the Weasley twins. But because of their backgrounds, James and Sirius were particularly vicious when it came to fighting against people practicing the Dark Arts. Severus was naturally gifted with Potions and Dark magic. Because of his fluency with the Dark Arts, among other things, he was their favorite target.

"There is more to the story, but I think the part you are looking for deals with the fact that Severus gravitated to a Darker crowd. As I said before, James and his crew tormented Severus, though he gave as good as he got. But Severus spent time in the company of future Death Eaters, though Lily, his love, was a Muggle-born."

The older ghost sighed. This was not a pleasant story. "During a particularly humiliating prank towards the end of their Fifth Year, James and Sirius… well, what they did isn't worth repeating. But Lily tried to stand up for Severus. In a misplaced moment of bravado, he insulted Lily with a name that shows utter contempt for all witches and wizards Muggle-born. It was at that moment that Lily no longer had use for her erstwhile friend.

"James discovered that being more mature had more of an impact on this particular lady, and he reformed his less than savory behavior. By giving up his bullying ways, he succeeded where Severus failed, and he won the hand of Lily Evans.

"Because of peer pressure, anger at himself, or whatever, Severus became a Death Eater. I couldn't tell you what he did or didn't do, but rest assured it wasn't good. Until… At some point, You-Know-Who decided to target James, Lily, and Harry Potter. James and Lily were Order members of great acclaim, but as specific targets, they were in danger.

"Severus never intended to hurt Lily. As a matter of fact, he tried to save the three of them, for Lily's sake. From that time, Severus has worked for Professor Dumbledore in more ways than one, but the night of October 31, 1981, You-Know-Who killed both of Harry's parents, to the Wizarding World's detriment, and attempted and failed to kill Harry, for which we are grateful.

"Severus lost Lily's love, but when she lost her life, he began a private crusade to stop You-Know-Who."

Vlad frowned in thought as he poured himself another cup of tea. He thought, 'I guess that makes us a lot closer than either of us care to be, hmm? Snape stopped his villainy when his love was killed. I guess,' he interrupted his thoughts as this epiphany came to him. 'Largely, so did I.' Looking up at Sir Nicholas, he said, "I see."

Sir Nicholas looked at Vlad. He could tell that the younger fellow struggled with his conscience. Vlad was a very private person, but once one had a handle on his thought patterns, it wasn't too difficult to telegraph where these thoughts might take him. Sir Nicholas watched and waited.

Vlad sipped his tea with his brow furrowed. "The Bloody Baron took his own life, and serves a penance of sorts by serving as the Slytherin House Ghost, and wears his blood and those… chains as a mark of eternal humiliation. Professor Snape does… whatever it is that he does against Voldemort, and functions as a Head of House, and is a professor who honestly cares about the students who pass through his tutelage. And I…" Vlad sighed. "I have many companies to run that I no longer need to…well, that's not important. I have classes to teach, for now. And I have Daniel to take care of."

Taking another cookie, Vlad said, "I'm not sure it will right all of my wrongs, but I'm pretty sure that some of them will be repaired by doing right by Daniel." Staring off again, he said, "And I suppose that means helping him become the hero he is intent on being rather than using him for my own ends, as I originally intended. Unless, of course, our goals work in concert…" He sighed again, but looked back at Sir Nicholas. "But from now on, Daniel comes first."

The former knight smiled. He wasn't sure what bizarre plans Vlad had on tap, but it sounded like he was putting anything nefarious on a shelf for the nonce. That could only work to the benefit of everyone around him. "It sounds like you've made a wise decision."

They sat in congenial quiet as Vlad enjoyed a few more cookies. Another memory of his meeting with Professor Dumbledore and the Grey Lady came to mind. "Sir Nicholas, who is Tom Riddle?"

Sir Nicholas jerked his head up so fast he had to grab his chin to keep it from flipping up. "I beg your pardon?"

Vlad quirked an eyebrow. "I asked who Tom Riddle is. He managed to get his hands on the Diadem of Ravenclaw, and Professor Dumbledore needs to check to see if it is safe to wear. Who is this fellow, and why is he supposed to pose such a threat?"

Sir Nicholas took a steadying breath, putting one hand over where his heart used to be. "Tom Riddle is the name You-Know-Who was born with. It was also the name of his father, who was a Muggle. Since You-Know-Who has made it one of his life's goals to dominate and destroy all things and people Muggle, he no longer uses this name. Instead, he chooses to use…" He closed his eyes. "Lord Voldemort."

Vlad's eyes widened in understanding. "The dreaded Dark Lord who has no compunctions against capturing, killing, or enslaving innocent people for fun or profit, in Nazi fashion."

The older ghost said, "Yes."

Vlad narrowed his eyes. "It's because of Voldemort and his Death Eaters that Maddie is dead."

"It's because of them that many people are dead," Sir Nicholas pointed out.

"Perhaps I can get more involved in this fight against them."

That was interesting. Vlad was interested in fighting You-Know-Who? If Vlad used his powers and resources to fight Voldemort and the Death Eaters, this could help tremendously. However… "Perhaps you could. But fighting them is not like fighting Pariah Dark. The Ghost King merely sought control. Your comparison of You-Know-Who and his followers to Nazis was a good one. One of the biggest differences is that they use magic."

Vlad looked askance. "So? They use magic. I use my powers. Muggles could use all kinds of weaponry against them, if they knew these people existed. But from what I understand, most wizards would rather stick to their prejudices and biases than actually do anything useful."

Sir Nicholas looked distinctly uncomfortable. Vlad made a lot of sense. "You might share your thoughts on this matter with Professor Dumbledore. You have an excellent mind for strategy, and you could be a tremendous asset in the war against You-Know-Who."

"I'll be sure to do that."

Thursday morning, after Transfigurations, Mandy headed to the library to work on her homework. She thought about what Terry, Michael, and Lisa said. Apparently, the Hufflepuff prefect explained that Danny's eyes glowed green and Professor Masters' eyes turned red. She wondered if such a color had anything to do with the non-verbal, wandless spell the professor used to kill the Boggart. Between Lisa's research and Terry's interview of Melissa Spradt, the small group was partially frustrated and partially intrigued that their efforts left them with more questions than answers.

Mandy realized that no logical conclusions could be made based on their lack of facts. She understood that Terry and her other close friends wanted to give Danny the benefit of the doubt. He was friendly, if distant. But her friends' easy acceptance of the benign nature of a person who appeared to be Dark tainted their objectivity. Mandy had nothing against Danny, per se, but no one could deny the possibility that Danny was Dark. While it was also true that the blind assumption that Slytherins are evil was prejudiced and not necessarily correct, there was serious precedent to establish this concept.

Of course, it was just as ridiculous to assume that Harry Potter was Dark because he spoke Parseltongue, but Harry had proven himself over and over by fighting and defeating Voldemort. Danny was an unknowable mystery.

The facts remained open to interpretation. Danny was a Slytherin, which didn't necessarily make him a bad person, though precedent suggested it was more likely.

Michael was right – there were too many extraneous things in Danny's Boggart manifestation to come to any conclusions. Still, there was a lot of death in Danny's fear. It couldn't be that Danny feared for the deaths of his family and supposedly closest friends, as they were already dead. But he might be afraid if he was responsible. Logic dictated that even if she assumed Danny was responsible for their deaths, she had no right to simply assume that Danny intended that result for his nearest and dearest. It would be a specious, inconclusive deduction and she knew it, regardless of the truth of the matter.

Both Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have special interest in Danny. People knew Draco's father is an arrested, convicted, and sentenced Death Eater. And Harry, of course, is the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, and the kick-butt instructor of the DA last year. Maybe they are trying to convince Danny to join either side of the war against Voldemort. (She would never say the name, but it was silly to be so afraid that she couldn't think it.)

No one understood the operation Boggart Masters offered, but it sounded like something that had to do with Dementors. A logical thought progression was: if Danny was responsible for the deaths in his fear, and if he was afraid of the Dementor, then Danny was Dark and feared retribution. It was logical, sure, but there were too many variables to know whether the conclusion was sound, even if the logic was fine.

Ernie Macmillan was already situated at a table in the library. Maybe a discussion with someone who did not seem militantly for or against Danny could help to solidify her own thoughts.

"Hi there, Ernie. Is this seat taken?"

Ernie looked up from his own studies. "Not yet." He smiled. The company of a friendly, pretty girl was not something to object to out of hand. "Is there anything special you wanted to talk about?"

Mandy smiled back. "Yes, actually. You are in Care of Magical Creatures with Terry and Danny, right?"

"Indeed." He had no idea where she was going with this.

"I have a theory I'm working on. You know that Terry met with Melissa yesterday, right?"

He nodded. "Melissa was worried that she would be mocked again, but Terry took her seriously."

Mandy looked at him. "Do you notice anything odd or different about Danny?"

Ernie raised his eyebrows. "Other than his incomprehensible Boggart, the interesting relationship he has with his uncle, his allergies to certain potion ingredients, the fact that a fellow prefect saw his eyes glow green, and the fact that he's more congenial than any other Slytherin I've ever met? Only one thing I can think of. On our first day of classes with Hagrid, a Crup had a weird reaction to him. But we discussed that when Peeves listened to him."

Right. "I remember now. We covered Crups last year. Why did you do them again?"

Ernie shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. But as I said before, the Crup liked Terry and me. Crups are characteristically friendly with wizards. But it didn't look like it knew what to do with Danny. At first, it looked ready to spring and attack, but then it backed away from him and whimpered. Hagrid apologized, though neither Terry nor I understood what Hagrid was apologizing for."

Mandy tapped her chin. "Last year, we learned that Crups are friendly to wizards and attack Muggles. Danny's a wizard – a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake! – so the reaction might…" She looked Ernie in the eyes. "What would you think if I suggested Danny wasn't entirely human?"

Ernie laughed. "That would mess with the whole pureblood atmosphere of Slytherin." Uh-oh. "Wait. Mandy, how many people know of your theory?"

This quick change in his expression startled her. "So far, just Terry, Michael Corner, Lisa Turpin, you, and me. Why?"

"Don't tell anyone else about it besides a professor. Danny is a Slytherin, but he also happens to be a decent fellow." He looked around and was satisfied that no one else was paying attention to their conversation. He leaned in and lowered his voice. "If any other Slytherins think that Danny is less than fully human, or even less than a pureblood, he might be in danger from his Housemates."

Mandy recoiled as if struck. She was so interested in her theory that Danny might be on the road to becoming a Dark wizard, or was partially a Dark creature, she failed to consider that result. For all of her suppositions and brand of logic, even if she was right, there was no need to expose Danny or his secrets to the rest of his House, especially if they didn't figure it out. He was a student and deserved to be treated as such. If it got out that Danny might not be fully human, he would be a pariah in his House.

"Good thinking. Thank you for sharing your insight."

Ernie smiled. Mandy was logical, but he was glad she listened to his reasoning. Danny was a good sort. He was glad to be somewhat helpful to him. "Mandy, as long as you're here; would you like to discuss what we just covered in Transfigurations?"

Hermione left Arithmancy to head for the advanced potions lab. She didn't have Potions until much later, but she needed to add the Boomslang skin and see what Ron was up to.

On her way down, she saw the Grey Lady. Since Hermione met Danny Phantom, she was determined to be more polite to all of the ghosts. She noticed the general demeanor of the House Ghosts, even the Bloody Baron, and she made sure to greet them. When others noticed, this garnered odd looks from most students, looks of surprise and satisfaction from the ghosts, looks of understanding from Ron and Harry, and broad smiles from Danny. She wasn't sure what made Danny so happy when she was personable with the ghosts, but she was glad of it.

The Grey Lady smiled contentedly, which was an unusual expression for her. Hermione asked, "Grey Lady, it is good to see you so pleased. May I ask what happened?"

"Ah, Miss Granger. Something important to me has been found. In a week or two, it would serve you well to ask Professor Flitwick about it." The Grey Lady nodded and drifted off.

Hermione stared after her. The Grey Lady was never the most talkative of ghosts, so when she said this much about something this personal, it was a pleasant surprise. The cryptic answer made her curious, and she had in mind to ask Professor Flitwick what was going on sometime next week.

This meeting was still in her mind when she got to the dungeon. A handful of her Potions classmates were in the advanced lab. It was bigger than the Potions classroom, and it had more workstations. Many cauldrons in the middle of the room were bubbling. Some Seventh Years worked quietly at the workstations by the near wall. Ron hadn't gotten there yet, to her complete lack of surprise. What did surprise her, after she checked on the lacewings that brewed separately until the crucial moment before adding the Boomslang skin to the larger portion of the potion, was the animated discussion between Harry and Danny two workstations over.

"What did he say?" Harry asked incredulously.

Danny took a breath. He knew why Harry was not assimilating this well. "Professor Snape explained that this was the only book available in the whole school with the specifics for brewing Wolfsbane Potion, and after we ace this potion, you get to keep the book. It occurs to me (and almost certainly occurred to him) that at some point, you might like to help out your friend Mr. Lupin. Or anyone else you know who might need our potion."

Harry started working it out. "If this is the only copy in the school… then this is Snape's copy! He doesn't want to make it for Remus anymore!" Draco and Ernie looked up and at the source of the shout.

Danny frowned. "I don't think that's it. He told me he was ordering himself another copy. Harry, I think… I think the professor wanted to share this with you – not because he's giving up on Remus, but because he knows this type of thing will be meaningful to you." He put his hand on the back of his neck and lowered his voice. "Based on our conversation we had about this, it looks like Professor Snape is officially extending an olive branch."

Harry was gobsmacked. Professor Snape's behavior toward him in class improved dramatically. Actually, both in and out of class, Professor Snape was treating Harry differently than before. He didn't make horrifically snarky comments on his performance anymore. The fact that he overlooked his (and Draco's) spying excursion on Danny and Professor Masters, and actually listened to his reasoning, and was even reasonable about it surprised him. But all of that meant that Professor Snape was treating him fairly for a change. Well, more than fair. That was how a professor was supposed to treat his students.

The professor was still obnoxious to Ron, so the man hadn't undergone a complete personality overhaul. But he treated Harry well, for a change. It was almost as if… dare he think it? It was almost as if the professor treated Harry like one of the Slytherins. And he could tell it wasn't only because Harry worked with Danny or approached him with Draco (He was thinking of Malfoy as 'Draco' now?) to discuss Danny. Professor Snape called him Harry. He was not cruel when he told Harry to look to professors more often.

This, however, was different, even beyond all of that. Lending Danny and him the only book in the school was reasonable, if they were to get their assignment done. It was more than reasonable – it was positively kind. The professor could just as easily told them to make a different potion. (With the potion he threatened Ron with available, Harry knew that Snape was truly nice about letting them keep the potion they chose and helping them out.)

Making a gift of the book that was rare and particularly useful was even further beyond that. Danny was right. This blatant act of kindness made it clear that Professor Snape was definitely interested in a far better relationship. This was…

The last time Harry received a gift so precious was when Sirius gave him his Firebolt. Harry gulped. "I think I may need to speak to Professor Snape later, perhaps tomorrow. For now, let's take a look at what we're dealing with…"

Hermione shook her head. Something very out of the ordinary was happening between Professor Snape and Harry. The professor told Harry as much. Still, she could tell that Harry hadn't told her and Ron everything. But Danny knew. She was somewhere between a little hurt and rather curious what odd connection Harry and Danny were forming. It was a good thing, that much she could tell, but now Harry has gotten a bit more mysterious.

During the Thursday morning break, Vlad visited Professor Dumbledore. When the wizard noticed no sense of urgency or pain, physical or emotional, coming from his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he asked Vlad to take a seat. "Care for a lemon drop?" To his surprise and amusement, Vlad took one. Whatever Professor Masters had in mind would be known soon enough.

Professor Dumbledore asked, "How was your class this morning?"

Vlad thought for a moment. "The Second Year Hufflepuffs were a little worried when I told them our next unit would cover giants. Apparently, my latest predecessor had it in for Hagrid (among a few other people), and Cynthia Gale thought I was going to 'be horrible' about him."

"Yes. Dolores Umbridge left a bad taste in the mouths of many in her tenure here." The twinkle left his eyes for a moment. Vlad noticed that unlike other former professors the Headmaster still liked and cared for, Dolores was not referred to as 'professor.'

"Yes, well… I asked Miss Gale if I had a habit of 'being horrible' to or about the many humanoids or partial humans I've mentioned so far. She smiled reluctantly and admitted I had not. We had a much easier time after that."

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "You seem to have a way with children." Vlad raised an incredulous brow. Dumbledore kept his smile and Vlad shrugged.

"In any event, I intend to take the upper-year classes on a 'field trip,' as it were. We'll talk a bit with Hagrid, and then we'll introduce them to Grawp, with all due respect, of course. If the students understand that giants aren't brainless monsters, but are people with family connections, then they might understand that – violent though they have a history of being – giants could, in theory, be reasoned with." Vlad frowned. "That may not be useful in the heat of a battle, but they can't be at war all the time, either."

Professor Dumbledore beamed with pride. "My dear professor, I do believe you will revolutionize the way wizards deal with the world around them. The perspectives, psychology, and understanding you offer is having an impact on the students."

Vlad sardonically huffed, "Who knew that simply giving students the manifest truth could encourage them to form their own judgments, rather than settle for cultural biases they've been fed for who knows how long?" He crossed his arms.

Professor Dumbledore replied ruefully, "Too true, indeed. I wholeheartedly agree with your plan."

Vlad nodded. "Thank you for that." Because he was the president, CEO, and owner of so many companies, it was a long time since Vlad took direction from a superior. He realized the enormity of the compliment from the headmaster and took pride in it.

As long as he was thanking the Headmaster, he thought now was a capital time to mention last night. Vlad sighed. "Thank you for sending Sir Nicholas to me last night. I sincerely needed to discuss a few things. Thank you for noticing my need."

The professor's eyes twinkled kindly. "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Speaking of being of service… I want to be part of the plan to take down Voldemort."

The wizard raised his eyebrows. "Thank you for telling me. I will see what I can come up with as a plan, but right now, the best thing you can do is keep Danny and yourself safe."

Inwardly, Vlad rolled his eyes. "Professor, why aren't Muggle resources employed in this war effort? There is much that might be done, if other people knew about it."

Professor Dumbledore sighed. "I agree, Vlad. There are many resources overlooked by the Ministry and much of Wizarding Society. The reason Muggles, by and large, are not informed or sought after is the Statute of Secrecy of 1689, written and enacted when wizards internationally withdrew from the Muggle World to escape persecution. While much of Muggle Society has changed, International Wizarding Law has not.

"While I would personally use almost any means to defeat Voldemort, I am bound by Wizarding Law. Even though I am on the Wizengamot (a Supreme Court of sorts, if you will), I cannot change the Ministry's position on anything. If I could, much of the travesty which was last school year would have been avoided."

A wry smile came to Dumbledore's lips as he looked Vlad in the eyes. "The reason you and Danny are invited to visit the Wizarding World is two-fold. One – as you know – is to keep you safe from Voldemort and his Death Eaters' machinations. The second is that even though you are Muggles, you are ghosts. Ghosts are beings that are part of the Wizarding World, so even if the Ministry discovered your secret (which it won't, if I have anything to say about it), it would leave you alone."

Vlad smirked. "Huh. Daniel was right. At home, if our secret was known, we would be reviled for being ghosts. (Daniel's ghost identity actually is.) And here, that very fact seems to be one of the few factors protecting us from being Obliviated for our troubles." Vlad decided to ignore the fact that their hybrid status could cause suspicion and trouble for Daniel and himself.

"Danny is very perceptive. From what I have seen and heard of your young charge, he is a treasure." Dumbledore grinned. "Much more so than many parents might say about their own children."

Smiling back, Vlad announced, "I know."

During the afternoon break, Harry spent time in the Common Room fingering the book Danny gave him on behalf of Professor Snape. This book, all by itself, symbolized a major change. From the day Professor Snape met his gaze at the Welcoming Feast in Harry's First Year, the professor showed him nothing but loathing. Since a week before Snape called him into his office, he stopped being obnoxious, sniping at every last mistake or slight, real or imaginary. Then, that meeting that was very surreal… Professor Snape allowed Harry to rant without penalty, and when the emotion was too much, Professor Snape hugged him, attempting to comfort him. Then he started giving him points. He was becoming reasonable, fair, and kind. Thinking about this gave Harry a headache.

The professor said that he was jealous of a relationship… it was obvious, now, that he was jealous of Professor Masters and Danny. Professor Masters hated Danny's father, so it seemed, but wanted to love his mother, and still wanted Danny. Kind of. (The way Danny described it, the relationship was strained, but after yesterday, with Danny calling Professor Masters 'uncle,' and the professor's obsessive calling on Danny ((apparently, he liked the sound of Danny calling him 'uncle')), there was no question it was getting better.)

Professor Snape let Harry know, in no uncertain terms, that he hated Harry's father. And he wanted to love Harry's mother (which kind of freaked Harry out). Harry saw for himself why that relationship never came to pass. But the professor's relationship to Harry changed, as he promised it would. Just being nice was a major change. Giving Harry this book that held the instructions to help make a potion for Remus, whom Professor Snape made it for faithfully despite his feelings for the man, was a very valuable gift, indeed.

Professor Snape wanted the type of relationship Professor Masters had with Danny. Receiving this book as a gift was a symbol of that. Harry could see that now. But was that new relationship something Harry wanted?

He sat puzzling over this when Colin Creevey bolted through the portrait hole into the Common Room breathlessly. "Harry Potter! Hey there! Alright there, Harry?"

Harry forced himself not to roll his eyes. Excitable fans… If Danny Phantom could be pleasant, Harry could at least try. "Hi, Colin. What can I do for you?"

Colin beamed. "Professor Dumbledore wanted me to give this to you!"

Harry had to smile. "Thanks, Colin."

"Any time, Harry! But I have to get back to a study session in the library. See you later, alright?"

"Alright, Colin. Good luck with your studies." Harry wondered how wrong it was to think of Colin's reactions and compare them with Pigwidgeon's. Colin, very pleased that Harry smiled at him, hurried back out of the Common Room and back to his study session.

Alone again, Harry opened the missive from Professor Dumbledore. He wants to meet again tonight!

In Potions, all students were expected to attend to whatever details their midterm projects required. Harry and Danny might need to be excused from certain classes to attend to their potion, as the other students would be. The other professors were used to this, as Professor Snape did this regularly for his midterm projects for both his Sixth and Seventh Year NEWT classes. (Professor Masters was surprised to hear of it, but he could understand the necessity. In Chemistry, certain things had to be timed appropriately. Not least of which, the accident that rendered him half-ghost and gave him Ecto-Acne involved him being at the wrong place at the wrong time, with at least one seriously wrong ingredient.)

As Harry and Danny sorted, chopped, sliced, and diced, Harry noticed that Professor Snape gave up all pretense of being mean to him. Whenever he met the professor's gaze, there was no longer a harsh sneer or a cold glower. It was a look of curiosity and vague longing.

It was odd… No adult ever longed for his company, especially on a permanent basis, before, besides Sirius. Remus was a great fellow, but he never reached out to Harry beyond a teaching capacity or a friend otherwise. It was great to see him whenever they met, that went without saying. But for someone to actively want him for his permanent company was a new thought.

He shook his head, as if to clear the dottle. He could worry about that later. Now he had to focus on the potion he and Danny were working on.

After dinner, Harry and Danny met unexpectedly by the foot of a staircase. Danny smiled. "Hey there, Harry! Where are you off to?"

"I'm headed to see Professor Dumbledore. We have a special class this evening." Danny nodded. Professor Dumbledore kept many secrets. Danny wondered what business he had with Harry. "And where are you going?"

Danny raised an eyebrow for a second and then shrugged. "The Room of Requirement. That's why I asked you to show it to me – Uncle Vlad and I have our extra Defense Against the Dark Arts sessions there."

Harry cringed. "Of course. How could I forget?" When they reached the third floor, one of the staircases moved. "I guess we part ways here. Have a good night, Danny. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Harry. Good luck in your special session."

Danny made Harry think. In theory, Harry had lots of friends, like Neville, Luna, Ginny, and other people he's spent time with, but the people he considered special and close were Ron, Hermione, and Danny. He wasn't sure how Danny made it to the short list, as he's only known him for such a short time. Ron was his best mate, his first friend (besides Hagrid), and sometimes they needed to work at it harder than other times, but they always figured themselves out. Hermione was always thoughtful, and she always meant well, but some of her ideas got in the way of her understanding him.

Danny was different. He was one of the few people who didn't judge Harry. He took him for who he was. Danny wasn't jealous of him, and didn't try to make him do what he'd rather not. And Danny was one of the few people who seemed to truly understand where he was coming from. They looked alike, the whole "guardian situation" was similar, and they both loved flying.

Harry wasn't sure what it was, or why it was, but the more he thought about the two of them, the more he saw they had in common. These thoughts were on his mind when he got to the stone gargoyle. "Fizzing Whizbees," he said before it sprang aside and he rode the spiral staircase.

Harry knocked, curious about what would have Professor Dumbledore call him back so soon. He was greeted with a very bright, "Come in!" and was offered a seat and a lemon drop.

Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but it was obvious to Harry that the headmaster was dealing with several moods at once. "Dear Harry, I promised to tell you everything, and I mean to. Yesterday, a gift was given to me, and you need to know what is going on." Looking around, Harry saw the ring, the locket, and a tiara on a table with spindly legs and a marble tabletop. The professor drew his attention back to the Pensieve on his desk.

"Before I brought you to the Burrow this summer, we stopped at the residence of Horace Slughorn. He was Professor Snape's predecessor as both Potions Master and Head of Slytherin."

Harry's eyes grew wide. "But he seemed a lot nicer!" He clapped a hand over his mouth once he realized what he said.

Professor Dumbledore smiled in amusement. "Indeed. For the most part, life was very kind to Professor Slughorn. Sometimes, how people are treated at impressionable times in life gets reflected in how they treat others. Sometimes, a person can rise above his circumstances and be kind regardless of how they were treated." Was Professor Dumbledore talking about this Slughorn character, or Professor Snape? Or him? This only firmed Harry's resolve to talk to Professor Snape tomorrow. He wasn't sure what they would say, but he was sure that something needed to be said.

"Come. We need to explore Professor Slughorn's memory." Harry fell through the silvery surface.

Slughorn pulled himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk as the boys gathered around him filed out. Teenaged Voldemort, however, stayed behind. Harry could tell he had dawdled deliberately, wanting to be last in the room with Slughorn.

"Look sharp, Tom," said Slughorn, turning around and finding him still present. "You don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you are a prefect…"

"Sir, I wanted to ask something."

"Ask away, m'boy, ask away…"

"Sir, I wondered what you know about…about Horcruxes?"

Slughorn stared at him, his thick fingers absentmindedly caressing the stem of his wine glass.

"Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

But Harry could tell that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork.

"Not exactly, sir," said Riddle. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."

"No…well… you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed," said Slughorn.

"But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you – sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously – I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could – so I just thought I'd ask…"

It was very well done, thought Harry, the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone. He, Harry had had too much experience of trying to wheedle information out of reluctant people not to recognize a master at work. He could tell that Riddle wanted the information very, very much; perhaps had been working toward this moment for weeks.

"Well," said Slughorn, not looking at Riddle, but fiddling with the ribbon on top of his box of crystalized pineapple, "well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."

"I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir," said Riddle.

His voice was carefully controlled, but Harry could sense his excitement.

"Well, you split your soul, you see," said Slughorn, "and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form…"

Slughorn's face crumpled, and Harry found himself remembering words he had heard nearly two years before: "I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost… but still, I was alive."

"…few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."

But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.

"How do you split your soul?"

"Well," said Slughorn uncomfortably, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

"But how do you do it?"

"By an act of evil – the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion…"

"Encase? But how…"

"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" said Slughorn, shaking his head like an old elephant bothered by mosquitoes. "Do I look as though I have tried it – do I look like a killer?"

"No, sir, of course not," said Riddle quickly. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to offend…"

"Not at all, not at all, not offended," said Slughorn gruffly. "It's natural to feel some curiosity about these things… Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic…"

"Yes, sir," said Riddle. "What I don't understand, though – just out of curiosity – I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven - ?"

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelped Slughorn. "Seven! Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case… bad enough to divide the soul… but to rip it into seven pieces…"

Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.

"Of course," he muttered, "this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic…"

"Yes, sir, of course," said Riddle quickly.

"But all the same, Tom… keep it quiet, what I've told – that's to say, what we've discussed. People wouldn't like to think we've been chatting about Horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know…Dumbledore's particularly fierce about it…"

"I won't say a word, sir," said Riddle, and he left, but not before Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human…

"Thank you, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly. "Let us go…"

When Harry landed back on the office floor, Dumbledore was already sitting down behind his desk. Harry sat too, and looked up at the professor. "So Voldemort split his soul into seven pieces and put six of them in different Horcruxes?"

Very tiredly, Professor Dumbledore answered, "So it would seem. That is what he intended." In a much more chipper tone, he said, "But many of them have been found, and at least half of them have been destroyed."

This was certainly good news. "So what were they?"

"Since he took the deepest pride in being a wizard, and was particularly taken by the legends of the Hogwarts' Founders, he sought things from the possessions of the Founders, when he could find them. Others were things that made him proud of his Wizarding heritage."

Harry nodded and waited. Dumbledore took Harry to the spindly table and pointed out each item. "Of the items from the Founders, he took Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem, and a goblet belonging to Hufflepuff. The only known artifact to have belonged to Gryffindor is the fabulous sword you used to slay the basilisk your Second Year, and the closest contact Tom had with it was your Second Year."

"But he didn't touch it!"

"Precisely." Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Which brings me to the other… three. There was his diary, which he spelled to be magical when he was only sixteen, a ring with a stone that was a different family heirloom, and his snake, Nagini." Inwardly, the professor sighed. 'There is no way that he's ready to hear that I believe that Harry himself is the final Horcrux. But one thing at a time.'

Harry looked at the items on the table again, and said, "I destroyed the diary with a basilisk fang."

The professor smiled broadly. "And a magnificent job you did, at that! Then there is the ring with the stone…"

"From the Peverell family! Marvolo Gaunt shared that information with Ogden."

"Right you are again." Almost distracted, he said, "Before the end of spring term, remind me of the name Peverell. I believe you and I are overdue for a trip to Godric's Hollow."

Harry goggled. "Isn't that where my parents were…" His words caught in his throat.

The professor nodded. "That is the place of many things which I believe will be meaningful for you."

For Harry, this was almost too much emotion. Professor Snape mentioned wanting to be his guardian, giving him an aspect of life he never had actualized: being wanted by an adult. And now, Professor Dumbledore offered to take him to Godric's Hollow, to perhaps visit his parents' graves, and something else of importance. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears of joy.

Professor Dumbledore slipped out from behind his desk and gave Harry a hug. He loved this boy so much! And he did not know of the intentions of his Potions Master to become Harry's guardian, if Harry chose it. As of last summer, Dumbledore knew how unloved Harry was by the Dursleys and hoped to do something useful by the time the blood wards fell on Harry's 17th birthday.

When Harry stopped trembling, Professor Dumbledore released him, smiling. "And now, back to Horcruxes. You destroyed the diary. I destroyed the ring. (The desire to wear it while the stone was whole was very great, but as I knew it was an item born from great evil, I managed to overcome it. Just barely.)

"And last night's gift… You know that Professor Masters and Danny Fenton have extra lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts, correct?"

Harry said, "Danny told me. I showed him the Room of Requirement so they could use it for their classes."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly. "I'm very glad you did. There are any number of reasons to be proud of you for this, but the one I'll mention now is that during last night's lesson, they came upon this." He picked up the Diadem of Ravenclaw and handed it to Harry. The largest stone in the tiara was split. "I'm not sure what they practiced, as Professor Masters is a very private man and keeps his own counsel. But it was a destructive… spell, because Danny said they heard a scream and saw it bleed."

"Like the diary did!"

"Exactly."

"Then that's half of the Horcruxes destroyed. So what about the locket?" Harry got excited – Voldemort was three Horcruxes away from being mortal again! Then he thought about it. "Sir, we found this locket at Sirius's house. It wouldn't open, no matter how much force we used."

Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. He just realized something. He crossed the room and took the Sword of Gryffindor from the wall. "Harry, the locket once belonged to Salazar Slytherin. What does Voldemort have in common with his ancestor?"

The Chamber of Secrets came into Harry's head. "Parseltongue!" Dumbledore smiled. He cleared the other items off of the marble tabletop.

Harry closed his eyes. He would open it, that was certain. But he needed to mentally prepare. The last time Harry encountered Tom Riddle's disembodied soul, it almost killed him. There was the Sword of Gryffindor, and this time Dumbledore was with him.

He opened his eyes, took a breath, and decided he was as ready as he would ever be. "One. Two. Three. Open." The last word came as a hiss and a snarl, and the golden doors of the locket swung open wide with a little click. Behind each of the glass panels blinked what appeared to be a living eye.

"Stab it, Harry," Dumbledore murmured.

A voice in clear, cold English called out, "We meet again, Harry Potter. And this time, I have seen your heart, and it is mine."

"Harry, now!" The professor urged.

His instincts told him that Professor Dumbledore was right, but something captivated him. The voice called, "I have seen your dreams, and know all you desire and dread. Always unloved, worshipped from afar, but no one close ever dares. You are dangerous, and death follows wherever you go."

"Harry, it is nothing. Stab it!"

Out of the eyes bloomed two grotesque bubbles that eventually formed into two images: Aunt Petunia and Professor Snape.

"No, Harry…"

The mockery of Aunt Petunia sneered. "What have we always told you? You are an unlovable freak, and that's all you will ever be. No one wants you, certainly not me or your uncle."

"I know you never wanted me!" Harry shouted back.

Professor Snape's shade now said, "That's all you will ever be, Potter. A celebrity glory-hound that no one can care for. No one will listen to. No one will ever break through your arrogance and see that you are little more than a pathetic brat."

"No…" Harry whispered.

"You know it. Your friends know it. You are careless with the sacrifice your mother made to protect your life and you willfully risk the lives of those around you. You would never be worthy of anything but scorn and being the tool that you are."

Dumbledore gasped. Harry gripped the sword. "That's not true!" He plunged the sword into the glass of the locket, not once but twice. The locket screamed and smoked as the piece of soul left it. Once it was shattered, Harry dropped the sword and fell to his knees, sobbing loudly.

"Oh, Harry…" Albus dropped to his knees and hugged Harry. "I hope you realize these are meaningless words, and that Voldemort is playing to your worst fears," he said, as he held the broken boy. They remained this way on the floor for several minutes, as Harry continued to cry and be held by his professor.

When Harry calmed down, he looked up at Dumbledore. "At first, I didn't care what Aunt Petunia had to say. I always knew the Dursleys hated me. But Professor Snape… we've been getting along much better since the beginning of October. We…" He remembered that Professor Snape wanted this to stay private, for now. "Let's just say it hurt a lot worse than such a thing ever would have before."

Professor Dumbledore could barely believe his ears. He knew that Severus Snape was a damaged soul, and that he went without love from his father, and was sorely hurt by Lily's death. He understood – but didn't condone – Severus's harsh treatment of Harry; he knew of the depths of pain that caused this course of action. But he also knew of Severus's promise to keep Lily's son safe, even if Severus made Dumbledore swear an oath of secrecy.

Now it seems that Severus and Harry were beginning to reconcile with one another. This could only be for the good. However, if they were truly reconciled, Albus could not – in good, or any other conscience – send Severus back to Voldemort to spy. It would be a valuable loss, but it might be well worth it. He would need to speak to his Potion Master soon.

"Harry, I don't know what is going on with you and Professor Snape, but it sounds like something good is happening. But you need to know that you are loved. You have not been told this anywhere near enough, but it is better now than never. I love you. Your friends love you. And it is clear to anyone who knows you how much you love your friends and anyone you attach yourself to in return. You need to know this. You… need to know how much you are loved."

Harry shifted his legs so that he sat on the floor. This is the first time he could remember anyone telling him that they loved him. He drew his knees up and hugged them. This seemed to be a whole new universe of emotion. Further, for the first time, he didn't feel he was alone. He didn't have to do things by himself. He still wanted to protect people, no question. And the prophecy did say that in the end, it would be him against Voldemort. But now, he could take strength and comfort in knowing there were people who cared. And he felt almost worthy of that… love.

"Thank you, sir."

Professor Dumbledore smiled at Harry again. "Thank you, Harry. Because of you, four of the Horcruxes have been completely destroyed. There are two more left. In a week or so, I'll show you a memory of Hufflepuff's goblet, and we shall see about finding it soon. And then there's Nagini… but I think we've had enough excitement for one evening."

Harry and Professor Dumbledore got to their feet. Dumbledore hugged Harry again. "Have a good night, Harry."

22