A/N: I felt so bad about making you wait so long for the previous chapter that I immediately started putting the finishing touches on this one after posting the prior. It's a loooong one, the longest by far (even longer than the massive Christmas chapter!). Hope you enjoy.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Onward

Lucius Malfoy stood perfectly still, unable to move, as Severus writhed on the ground in front of him. Even if he had the courage to step forward, there wasn't a damn thing he could do.

"Very good," came the Dark Lord's high voice from the back of Quirrell's head. "A third time, perhaps?"

Quirrell raised his wand, gazing down impassively at the gasping Severus. "Crucio."

It had been a long time since Lucius had heard screams like these, and yet it seemed as though no time at all had passed since the days of the war. The Dark Lord was good at that, at making one feel as though they'd never existed independently from him, as though the world existed through him and him alone, everything else washing away in his presence.

"That's enough," the Dark Lord said after a long moment. Quirrell lowered his wand. "Let him rest for a moment."

Severus's eyes were open, but they darted about so rapidly that Lucius wondered if he could see anything at all. His lips moved, but no words accompanied them, just incoherent bits of noise.

"Good. Now that he's rested, you may continue," the Dark Lord said, and Quirrell raised his wand again.

"Crucio."

It occurred to Minerva, as she mounted one of the brooms in the flying key room, that she'd left the harp where she'd found it, alongside the three-headed dog in the third floor corridor. Swearing to herself, she pushed off against the stone floor and soared through the air. As she approached the still-open trapdoor, she gripped her broom with one hand and her wand with the other. "Accio harp!"

She waited, but nothing happened. She flew a bit closer, and again shouted, "Accio harp!"

Again, nothing.

Gritting her teeth and preparing to sing the most desperate, off-tune rendition of A Dragon and Her Egg as she could muster, Minerva flew a bit higher and tried one last time. "Accio harp!"

"Hold on!" she heard through the open trapdoor, a voice she knew well, followed by an equally familiar, "I'm trying!"

Minerva flew even higher, all the way to the opening, and as she did so she became aware of the sound of faint harp music. As she emerged into the third floor corridor, wand at the ready, she found herself staring at the three-headed dog, which happened to be fast asleep. Pomona plucked at the harp Minerva had been trying to summon, her brow furrowed in an expression that successfully combined intense panic and intense concentration, as Filius and Argus gripped opposite ends of the harp, holding on tightly. Behind them, the entire Hogwarts staff minus Severus, Quirinus, and the headmaster stood, their wands pointed directly at Minerva.

For a long moment everyone stood perfectly still, the only movement Pomona's hands as she plucked at the harp. Finally, Minerva lowered her wand and asked, "What are you all doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Poppy asked, lowering her wand, as Silvanus Kettleburn gruffly said, "For Merlin's sake, the portraits are all in a panic, ordering all the students to their common rooms and trying to find Dumbledore. Did you think we wouldn't notice?"

"As well as the fact that the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress have suddenly gone missing?" Charity Burbage spoke up, then added, "No one's seen Severus or Quirinus, either. Minerva, what is going on?"

"You must believe me, my Lord, you must," Severus said. He was able to speak now, though the desperate voice that came from him was very much unlike his own. He gripped a handful of Quirrell's robes, forehead pressed against the stone floor as he kneeled as low as he possibly could. "Please, my Lord."

"I must?" the Dark Lord repeated slowly, dangerously. "Are you giving orders now, Severus?"

"No!" Severus said quickly, releasing Quirrell's robes and preparing himself for another round of the Cruciatus Curse.

Lucius still hadn't spoken a word. He stood very still next to the mirror, watching, his eyes wide with fear. Is this what you wanted? Severus thought to himself. Is this the glorious future you want for Draco?

"I've been training them," Severus murmured when the curse didn't come. "Your Slytherins, my Lord, I've been training them in secret, for this very day."

"Have you?" The Dark Lord let out a joyless bit of laughter. "Training them for a leader you haven't bothered to search for?" To the man whose body he was inhabiting, he said simply, "Quirinus."

"Crucio."

There was an unspoken agreement in this exchange, and the Unforgiveable that hit Severus this time was milder than the ones before. Of course, that didn't mean much when milder still meant excruciating.

It had been a decade, but Severus remembered this pain. He remembered what facing the Dark Lord's displeasure was like.

He'd followed this man once. Put all his faith into him and his beliefs. Chosen to be his servant. It seemed impossible now, but he had.

As the pain receded, Severus swore to himself he'd do whatever he could to protect his Slytherins from what he'd done, from ever having to consider the Dark Lord a possibility in their lives.

"I've been training them," Severus whispered, saying whatever he could to both stay alive and bide time until Dumbledore arrived, if he arrived. "My Lord, the world without you has been terrible. Terrible beyond our worst fears. Dumbledore took me on because he thought I'd changed sides, but I haven't, my Lord, I truly haven't."

The edges on things weren't quite right; there were two mirrors in front of him, swaying apart from one another, then back together, then apart again.

"If he knew I was still loyal- if he knew I was training a new generation of servants behind his back..."

"He'd throw you out and install a clone of himself in the role," the Dark Lord said softly. "Yes, that's what Lucius told me when he found me. I see you're both sticking to the same story."

Severus managed to move his head the slightest bit, toward Lucius, who continued to watch the proceedings silently. His mouth opened, perhaps to speak for Severus, but no words came. And then-

The probing was softer than Severus had expected, subtler. The Dark Lord entered his thoughts smoothly, as though he were simply strolling through, and Severus, despite his mental and physical exhaustion, managed to clear his mind of all thoughts, replacing them with ones he hadn't felt for many years. He let the man he'd become wash away, willing himself to bring forth the fervent, self-righteous boy he'd once been. He allowed his childhood loneliness to overtake him, accompanied by the hatred he'd let fester for so many years. He filled his mind with the awe he'd felt upon seeing the Dark Lord in person for the first time, before he understood who he truly was.

Severus didn't say a word, allowing the version of himself he'd denounced, anguished over, and ultimately put behind him long ago to run free, and finally, slowly, silently, the Dark Lord retreated.

"Rise."

Severus exhaled, managing to mask his emotions as he pushed his past aside and became himself once more. He placed the palms of his hands on the ground and unsuccessfully attempted to stand. Lucius stepped forward, but was instantly stilled by a short noise from the Dark Lord. Slowly, painfully, Severus forced himself to his feet. As he stared into the eyes of the Dark Lord, Severus made a silent promise that he would do whatever it took, even if that meant dying down here, if it meant none of his Slytherins- or anyone else for that matter- would have to face down the Dark Lord ever again.

"My Lord," he whispered. "You've no idea how glad I am you've come back."

The Dark Lord stared at him, seeming to ponder over what he'd seen in Severus's mind, then, at long last, said, "I believe you."

"My Lord," Severus repeated, relief washing over him. He dropped to his knees and kissed the ground at Quirrell's feet.

"Rise, Severus," the Dark Lord interrupted softly. Once Severus was on his feet again, he said, "You've remained loyal. And yet you've sinned, Severus. You deserve punishment." Silence, then, "You never searched for me. You say you've been training your little army, but what good as an army without a leader? You never did your duty in finding me."

"I didn't know where you were," Severus said quietly. He lowered his head. "I'm sorry, my Lord."

"Quirinus," the Dark Lord said.

This Cruciatus was the mildest one yet, and yet it was still a Cruciatus. By the time the pain receded from all-encompassing to simply terrible, Severus was whimpering, the tears that had begun with the second curse streaming down his face without him even registering them.

"Rise."

Severus struggled again to stand, but after a long moment he managed it.

Harry stared at a particularly purple potion on one of the shelves lining Snape's study. "What do you think it does?" he asked Draco, not really caring but needing to break the heavy silence.

"No clue," Draco said, barely glancing at it.

"Armadillo Bile Mixture," Terence said quietly. "It's a sixth year potion. Powerful corrosive."

"Oh," Harry said, trying to ignore the large part of him that was still internally shouting he needed to find a way to break down the study door and run straight to the third floor corridor.

Deep down, he knew Terence and Draco were right. An eleven-year-old wouldn't fare particularly well against the darkest wizard known to man, even if that dark wizard was in a weakened state.

"I'm worried about Professor Snape," he admitted.

"We all are," Terence said, prompting nods of agreement all around him. "Chin up, though. Being worried won't change a damn thing. If it did, he'd be here with us right now."

Harry wished for a moment that it did work that way, that Professor Snape would appear in front of them with a pop just because they cared about him. Nothing happened, however, and the group sat in silence, trying not to imagine the things their brains were forcing upon them.

"Where's the Potter boy?" the Dark Lord asked, eyes flitting to Lucius, then back to Severus. "Lucius was sent to find him, but the useless wretch passed the job along to his son, or so I've been told."

Severus hesitated for only the most fractional of seconds before saying, "Draco found him, just as he was told, and fed him a false story to make him follow. He obeyed his father's orders beautifully. They're both outside, waiting for us. I came to make sure it was true, instead of sending them down on their own. I thought it was my duty. All I had was Draco's word. I didn't know if I could trust him, but I should have. Everything he told me was the truth."

Lucius didn't relax, not exactly, but his shoulders shifted slightly, releasing some of their tension.

The Dark Lord studied him carefully, then turned to Lucius. "You're very lucky your son obeyed."

Lucius's let out a small noise. The Dark Lord ignored him, turning to Severus once more. "You've prepared my soldiers of tomorrow, but Lucius... he ran and hid. His only saving grace seems to be that he taught his son the appropriate values. I had to punish him more severely than I did you. Tell him, Lucius, about how you found me."

"It was the day of the Board of Governors' meeting," Lucius said, so softly Severus had to strain to hear him. "After we were finished, I split from the rest to come to the dungeons. I'd promised Draco I'd visit him in his common room."

Severus remembered this. Draco had been insufferable for nearly a fortnight after the incident, believing himself forgotten by his father. He'd only straightened up after Severus none-too-gently warned him what to expect should his terrible conduct continue.

"I bumped into Quirrell instead."

"We'd been looking for someone we could trust," the Dark Lord said. "Tell them, Quirrell."

"I found our Master when I was abroad," Quirrell finally spoke. "I brought him home with me. I tried to bring him the Philosopher's Stone, but..."

"He failed," the Dark Lord said with a sneer. "At which point I decided it was necessary to keep a closer eye on him. It's a dreadful arrangement, one we can only sustain through unicorn blood. It was a workable arrangement, with Quirrell slipping into the Forbidden Forest whenever needed. But then..."

The Dark Lord trailed off, and Severus knew what he was getting at. After the Potter boy had been attacked, surveillance had been tightened on Quirinus. It was all they could do without actual proof, but it explained why the man had become so dreadfully ill several months ago. With all eyes on him, it had become impossible to sneak into the Forest.

"You stopped me one night," Quirrell said. His voice was different, lower. Severus had never heard him speak like this, even during the time before his stutter. "Outside the forest. Don't you remember?"

Of course Severus remembered. It had been the night of his thirty-second birthday. "I didn't know," Severus said, bowing his head apologetically. "Quirinus, I thought you were operating on your own. I thought you were trying to obtain the Stone for your own selfish benefit. If I'd had known..." He trailed off, then shook his head. "I'd have been at your side in a moment. I'm truly sorry." He paused, then said, "You let the troll in, didn't you?"

"I've always been good with trolls, haven't I?" Severus couldn't see Quirrell's face, but he could hear him chuckle. "Yes, that was me. Narrowly avoided being torn apart by that dog. It wasn't until recently I learned how to get past it from that half-giant half-wit."

"I wouldn't have figured it out myself if you hadn't left your harp behind," Severus admitted. "Hagrid told you?"

"He's an idiot. Put a few drinks in him, and he'll tell you anything. Dumbledore's a fool to trust him."

Severus had been on his way to the third floor corridor himself that Halloween, determined to confront Quirinus in the act, only averting his course upon hearing what turned out to be Neville Longbottom's terrified screams as he, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger faced down the troll in the girls' lavatory.

"Until recently, our Master and I were both in much worse shape than you might imagine. With every portrait's eye on me, reporting my every move, it was impossible to obtain the nourishment we needed," Quirinus said. "You remember how ill I became."

"If I'd known," Severus said quickly. "If you'd only come to me-"

"I didn't think I could trust you," Quirrell interrupted. "Just as you thought I was acting on my own, trying to steal the Stone for my own glory, I thought you were working with Dumbledore."

"And so we were very lucky to find Lucius," the Dark Lord said, the corners of the mottled lips on the back of Quirinus's head tilting upward. "Lucius may have neglected his duty to find me, but I remained convinced of his loyalty. And so as he made his way to the dungeons alone, our dear Professor Quirrell stopped him with some personal questions about his projected bonus."

Of course. Sneaking to the forest in the middle of the night was enough to make the portraits report to Severus and Professor Dumbledore, but an impromptu, private meeting between a staff member and a school governor was too innocent to even register.

"I stayed in the castle," Lucius explained, "And slipped into the Forest that very night, under a Disillusionment Charm. Even then, it was a miracle I wasn't spotted by the portraits. Last night was my second trip. I used a Portkey that took me to the castle's grounds, away from the portraits, and it was an absolute nightmare even managing that without tripping up the castle's wards."

Severus knew what he would say next, and he was correct. Lucius shared how he'd run into two Gryffindors on the grounds and stole their Invisibility Cloak without revealing his identity. Severus had just heard the same story from Longbottom and Granger moments before in his study.

"That was it," Lucius said. "The last thing we needed. We already knew how to get past the dog thanks to Hagrid, but the portraits had Quirrell under such careful watch he'd never be able to make his way there before being stopped, even if he used a Disillusionment Charm."

Thanks to me, Severus thought to himself. If Potter hadn't been attacked on the stairs, Severus wouldn't have insisted on such a severe increase in security.

"So you used the cloak to sneak in," he said. "That was incredibly lucky."

"It was. I've no idea how or why the children had one," Quirrell agreed. "Now that you've been thoroughly updated, I have something rather important to ask you. Why on earth did you tell Lucius the Stone beneath the school is a fake?"

"I'd like to know the answer to that myself," the Dark Lord said, his voice dangerously soft.

Severus turned to look at Lucius, who, in turn, looked at his feet. To the Dark Lord, he said, "I told him that because it's the truth, my Lord."

The Dark Lord sneered, and Severus stiffened. The Cruciatus Curse didn't come, and instead the Dark Lord said, "Don't be foolish, Severus. That sort of nonsense may be enough to fool idiots like Lucius, but not myself. Why on earth would Dumbledore place the Stone in a vault that had already been successfully broken into?"

"But that wasn't a real break-in," Severus protested, silently hoping he sounded convincing. "It's exactly as I told Lucius. The Gringotts break-in was faked to make any potential thieves think the Stone had been moved to Hogwarts. This entire gauntlet is for nothing. It's a giant trap, my Lord."

"The Gringotts break-in wasn't real?" Quirrell let out a horrid, strangled-sounding laugh. "I risked my damn life to get in there, Severus, and found the vault empty. What are you talking about?"

Severus stared at him. Slowly, carefully he said, "You broke in? Dumbledore told me that was a ploy by the Ministry. That no one actually broke in."

"Severus," Lucius said quietly. "Perhaps Dumbledore doesn't trust you as much as you think he does."

Severus closed his eyes for a very long moment. When he opened them, he said weakly, "You're not saying..."

"He thought you would go after the Stone," Quirrell completed for him. "Or that you would lead the Dark Lord here, just as I did."

There was a terrible silence, and Severus let his body deflate as he said, "I had no idea."

"Better to be fooled than be a traitor," Lucius said. "I spoke on your behalf, I hope you know that."

"He did." The Dark Lord let out a small snort. "It's the only reason you weren't killed the moment you stepped through those flames."

Another silence fell over them, and Quirrell finally said, "We can't solve this last test. The Stone must be inside the mirror, somehow, but we don't know how to get to it. Come, look."

Severus stepped forward, toward the mirror he'd barely noticed before now. As he stepped closer, he froze, seeing not only himself, but-

There was a crowd behind him, an enormous one. His Slytherins, every last one of them. Not just the ones of now, but those who'd already left school, even the three he'd expelled all those years ago. They all gazed at him, small smiles on their faces.

They all seemed so serene, Severus thought. He was surrounded by his Slytherins, and they all seemed to be happy and at peace. He stared at himself, and found his reflection's face was the same as everyone's else.

Safe and at peace.

"It's the Mirror of Erised," he said at last, when he found his voice. "I've read about it, but I never thought I'd see it." To the blank faces of those around him, he explained, "It shows your deepest desires. I see myself giving the Philosopher's Stone to you, my Lord."

"That's all very good," the Dark Lord said impatiently. "But how do we get it?"

Minerva dashed through the castle at top speed, toward Cuthbert Binns' office. The ghost, who'd accompanied the rest of the staff to the forbidden corridor despite seeming supremely bored and uninterested by the entire situation, had informed her that, despite his noncorporeal state, there was a container of Floo Powder next to the fireplace he never bothered to light.

She wasn't alone in her mad dash. Half the staff had joined her, the other half standing watch at the trapdoor. They'd been prepared to leap down immediately, only stopping when Minerva informed them that Severus had drank the last of the potion needed to enter the final chamber. She'd already sent an owl to Dumbledore before rushing after him, but God only knew how long it would take to reach him. Their best bet was to intercept him at the Ministry.

"Do you smell smoke?" Pomona asked from behind her as they passed an open window.

Minerva barely had time to register this as they rounded the corridor leading to the stairs, and all thoughts of smoke left her mind as she nearly slammed into a solid figure. She gasped, catching herself before she toppled over, and found herself looking directly at Albus Dumbledore. Minerva stared at him, then said, "Severus is holding off You-Know-Who beneath the school."

Professor Dumbledore didn't say a word, instead breaking into a run in the direction from which Minerva had come.

Lucius stood next to Severus as they studied the mirror, trying to reveal its secrets. "It's going to be all right," Lucius whispered, not quite believing it himself. "Once we figure out how to get the Stone, it'll be everything we've ever dreamed of."

"Indeed," Severus replied, gaze unfocused as he swayed in place, unfocused by so many Cruciatus Curses. "Everything we've ever dreamed of."

Hagrid paced back and forth outside the third floor corridor. Vague memories of a drunken card game with a chap in a hooded cloak flitted through his mind, the same card game in which he'd won Norbert, who he'd left alone in his hut upon being summoned to the third floor corridor by Silvanus Kettleburn. He'd casually mentioned to the stranger that Fluffy could be spirited, but all he needed to calm down was a bit of music. Had he been the reason the intruder made his way past the dog?

Dividing his thoughts was Norbert, who had been in an especially playful mood, rambunctiously been lighting things on fire all morning. He really shouldn't have left him alone- and speaking of Norbert, why hadn't Hermione and Neville shown up the night before to carry him off to Charlie Weasley?

"Headmaster!" Argus Filch spluttered; Hagrid looked up sharply to see Albus Dumbledore charge toward them at a speed he hadn't known the wizard was capable of.

The headmaster barely seemed to notice him as he plunged a hand into a pocket of his deep purple robes. When he pulled it out, he was holding a metal kazoo, which he immediately pressed to his lips in order to produce a tune Hagrid vaguely remembered as a nursery rhyme from his own childhood.

Yanking open the door behind which Fluffy was awake and filled with joyful energy, Professor Dumbledore rushed in.

It happened so quickly Severus was only able to understand it after the fact, once he'd had time to replay the events in his mind.

The black flames vanished as Dumbledore charged toward them, icy fury emanating from him so intensely that even Severus stepped back, stunned into silence.

Quirrell's eyes widening in horror- the Dark Lord shouting in anger, then fear- Quirrell's body crumpling as the Dark Lord's soul retreated- Lucius vanishing under the Invisibility Cloak-

It happened in seconds, so quickly that when Severus found himself and Dumbledore alone in the chamber, Quirrell's body on the ground beside him, the only thing he could do was stare at the Headmaster.

"Severus," Professor Dumbledore said, staring back in concern. It occurred to Severus that until now he'd never seen the Headmaster look frightened, not like this. "Are you hurt?"

Severus opened his mouth to say of course he was hurt, he'd taken at least six Cruciatus Curses in rapid succession, but his body betrayed him. Before he could speak, he found himself dropping to his knees.

"I-"

That was all he managed before proceeding to vomit harder than he had the time he'd eaten a bad batch of Cauldron Cakes. The darkness bordering the edges of his vision exploded, enveloping him completely before he even knew he was falling.

Harry scrambled to his feet as the locks lining the door to Snape's study clicked open. Beside him, Draco, Terence, Neville, and Hermione did the same. Harry held his breath as the door swung open, and his stomach dropped as he found Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall standing at the threshold.

"Where is he?" Terence asked as Neville began to whimper beside him. "Is he dead?"

"Professor Snape is very much alive, Mr. Higgs," Dumbledore said, his voice low and soothing. "He's in the Hospital Wing, demanding to all that will listen he be permitted to return to the dungeons immediately."

Harry dropped back into his chair, exhaling deeply. Beside him, Hermione burst into silent tears of relief as Neville trembled, closing his eyes.

"Is he hurt?" Harry asked, his voice returning to him. "Can we visit him, sir?"

"Once he's had a bit of rest," Dumbledore said gently. "Madam Pomfrey insisted he be uninterrupted until the morning. I'd argue on your behalf, but, I must admit, Madam Pomfrey is rather intimidating once she's made up her mind."

"What happened? Was it all true, sir?" Terence asked, stepping forward. "Was it really... was it him?"

Dumbledore studied Terence for a moment. He glanced at Professor McGonagall, who didn't say anything, her expression grave and unchanging. Then Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Mr. Higgs. I'm afraid it was. Voldemort did indeed infiltrate the castle."

"He was driven away, thanks to Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore." Professor McGonagall hesitated, then said, "I don't know what happened, but you did well by finding Professor Snape. Thank you."

Harry turned to look at Draco, whose face silently asked a thousand unasked questions. Professor Dumbledore paused, then gently addressed him. "Mr. Malfoy, I have some questions for you. For all of you."

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, and a heaping plate of sandwiches appeared alongside a jug of pumpkin juice. He'd only missed lunch, but he was suddenly ravenous. As they ate, Dumbledore and McGonagall waved their wands, filling the space enough chairs to seat everyone.

Sitting, Professor McGonagall leaned forward. Harry was struck by how gentle her expression was, compared to her usual demeanor in class. Quietly, she said, "If you wouldn't mind starting from the beginning, then."

"For God's sake, Severus, if you don't stay in that bed I'll hex you to it," Poppy snapped at him as he attempted for the third time to get up and make his way to the dungeons. "The children are safe. You'll be with them again before you know it. Until then, you need rest."

"What I need is rest in my own quarters," Severus shot back. "Poppy, I'm fine."

"You passed out in a puddle of your own vomit," the nurse reminded him, as though he'd managed to forget. "You're not fine. Now, get back in bed before I prove I'm not bluffing."

Severus stared at her, silently gauging how much fallout there'd be if he disarmed her and legged it out of the Hospital Wing. Too much, and besides, both Minerva and Dumbledore would descend like locusts and drag him back, and then he'd have to listen to them on top of it all.

Slowly, begrudgingly, Severus lowered himself back onto the bed.

"There's a good lad," Poppy said, as though he were a second year. She crossed the Hospital Wing to a cabinet and retrieved a small bottle and spoon. "Now sit back and take your medicine."

"I don't need medicine," Severus snapped. "I just need a good night's sleep."

"Hence the medicine." Poppy was unperturbed as she returned with the potion, one for Dreamless Sleep. She uncorked it and poured a spoonful, which she used to gesture in his direction. "Open up, would you?"

"Absolutely not," Severus said. "That portion will knock me out for ten hours straight. If my students need me-"

"They'll go to one of the many other staff members of this school," Poppy said, her voice gentle but firm. "Severus, enough of this. You were tortured. If one of your students were hit with as many Cruciatus Curses as you, you'd insist the same. Knowing you, you'd hold their mouth open and force the potion down yourself. Something you're tempting me to do, mind you." She leaned forward, placing her free hand on his shoulder. "You won't win this battle."

Severus glared at her, wishing she weren't correct. He also wished the idea of a dreamless sleep didn't sound absolutely wonderful. He hadn't had a dreamless, uninterrupted night's sleep in... well, ever.

"I know you're proud of carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders," Poppy went on. "And I'm sure you'll continue to do so tomorrow. One good night's sleep isn't going to change a thing."

She shoved the spoon toward him, refusing to let up, and for a brief moment Severus considered clamping his lips shut like a toddler. He didn't, though, instead giving in, opening his mouth, and letting Poppy stick the damned spoon inside.

"Thank you, Severus," Poppy said.

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she gasped, staring at a window further down the Hospital Wing. Turning away from Severus, she ran for it, and he quickly followed.

"Merlin's beard!" she cried as Severus took in the sight for himself. Flames shot into the air from the direction of Hagrid's hut, but that was secondary compared to-

"That's..." A warm blanket seemed to envelope Severus as he stared at the creature soaring across the grounds. "Is that a-"

He never finished his sentence, instead lurching to the ground once more as the potion's effects kicked in.

"So, what do you think happened?" Vincent asked Greg as students milled in and out of the common room.

Greg lifted one shoulder, then lowered it. "No clue. What do you think?"

"No clue."

Ellen Greybourne sat in a chair by the fire, wondering the same. Terence had stopped by to let her know he, Marcus Flint, and the missing first years were all alive, and that they were allowed to leave the common room. He also said he couldn't stay long, that he needed to speak further with Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall, but not to worry, that everything was all right.

Naturally, Ellen was very worried. What on earth had happened? Where was Professor Snape?

"Come see!" Lucian Bole shouted, tearing into the common room so quickly he tripped over an end table and faceplanted into the back of an armchair. He barely seemed to notice, pulling himself upright and announcing, "There's a dragon!"

"There's a what?" Ellen asked, but Lucian was already gone, running back out of the common room, followed by everyone inside.

They ran to the Entrance Hall, where the rest of the school was charging down the massive marble staircase and out the double doors onto the Hogwarts grounds. And there it was, soaring above the grounds, not fully grown but large enough to be impressive.

A Norwegian Ridgeback.

"Merlin," Ellen breathed, too awed to say anything else. She became aware of the fact that many of the students had begun to race toward Hagrid's hut. The wooden structure was engulfed in flames, and as Ellen reached it she drew her wand, shouting "Aguamenti!" in unison with those around her.

A terrible howl burst forth from the direction of the castle; Ellen looked back and saw Hagrid staring at his hut in horror, then at the dragon in the air. He shouted something before rushing toward them.

Thinking she must have heard incorrectly, Ellen turned to Percy Weasley. "Did he say Norbert?"

"I think he did," Percy said, his face a mirror of what Ellen imagined her own looked like.

"Stand aside!" Professor McGonagall's magnified voice echoed through the grounds. The Deputy Headmistress looked utterly exhausted, fueled only by adrenaline as she hurried alongside Hagrid toward the hut, alongside a slew of professors.

"Norbert," Hagrid moaned, reaching his hut and taking in its smoldering remains. "I never should have left him alone. He doesn't know his own strength, the little thing." Tilting his head toward the sky, Hagrid bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Norbert! Come back to Mummy! Come back, sweetie!"

Ellen turned to Percy Weasley again, and, not sure what else to do, burst into bewildered, uncomprehending laughter. Percy, who she'd never exchanged more than two words with before, stared at her and seemed to be shocked with himself when he burst into startled laughter of his own.

In the end, everything was blamed on Norbert. Dumbledore made a speech at dinner that night explaining the dragon had broken free and caused the castle-wide lockdown.

"We believed the dragon to be restrained upon lifting the lockdown," Dumbledore said, pausing to smile ruefully before adding, "As those present may have observed, the dragon had second thoughts on this arrangement."

There were no serious injuries, according to Dumbledore. Professor Snape and a sixth-year Slytherin, Marcus Flint were healing perfectly well in the Hospital Wing from very minor injuries, though Madam Pomfrey had requested no visitors in order to allow them their much-needed rest.

Hagrid, looking thoroughly ashamed of himself, sat at the staff table with his head down and his hands in his lap throughout this speech. Then, once dinner was served, he proceeded to drink too much and, in his morose state, loudly and repeatedly beg Dumbledore's forgiveness not just for the dragon, but for, "makin' a mess of things by lettin' slip on the whole 'music' thing."

It was at this point Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, and Professor Flitwick rose to their feet and quickly ushered Hagrid out of the Great Hall as the latter sobbed loudly into his tablecloth-sized handkerchief, calling apologies over his shoulder all the way.

"What do you think the 'music' thing was?" Tracey asked that evening in the common room. The first years, save Harry and Draco, who'd gone to bed early, were gathered around a tattered game of Snakes and Ladders. There weren't enough pieces to accommodate everyone, so they'd made their own from bits of cardboard and arts supplies.

"No idea. This game is stupid," Theo muttered as he was sent backwards, halfway down the board. "It's all based on luck."

"The year is almost over," Pansy reminded them. "Next year we'll be second years, and we won't be stuck with the worst games. We'll stick the new first years with them, and we'll get to play Cluedo whenever we want."

"Or whenever the third years let us," Tracey pointed out. "And no one answered my question."

"I told you, I don't know what the 'music' thing was," Theo said, moving his piece three spaces forward. "Do you think Hagrid will be sacked?"

"Of course not," Millicent said. "Dumbledore loves him. He'd never sack him, even though he really should. Anyone else would be tossed out in a heartbeat for raising an illegal dragon around a bunch of schoolchildren."

"You'd scream bloody murder if Hagrid was sacked," Tracey protested. "You like Hagrid."

"Of course I would, and of course I do," Millicent replied, shrugging. "Doesn't mean it wasn't stupid of him to hide a fire-breathing dragon in his wooden hut." She paused. "But I suppose you're right. If he had been sacked I'd be leading the revolt outside Dumbledore's office."

"Do you even know where Dumbledore's office is?" Daphne asked.

"No clue. But I'd scream outside every door until I found it," Millicent said, moving her piece up a ladder, and finding herself immediately hit by protests from all directions that she was cheating. "Oops. Miscounted my spaces."

"Miscounted, my arse," Theo said, watching carefully as she moved her piece to the correct spot. He paused, then said, "Something more happened, don't you think?"

The first years fell silent. According to Harry and Draco, they'd been outside when the dragon broke loose, and Terence found them while searching for Snape. The two were remarkably subdued for someone who had just seen a dragon, however, and even Terence Higgs seemed more serious than usual as he whispered to an increasingly pale Ellen Greybourne in a quiet nook of the common room.

"It doesn't make sense," Theo went on. "The portraits were talking about an intruder in the castle."

"That wasn't proven," Tracey pointed out. "Gwydion just thought someone invisible sneaked into the dorms. And for all we know, it could have just been Peeves."

"Peeves doesn't come down here," Theo reminded her. "He's too frightened of the Bloody Baron."

They fell silent, thinking this over.

"What do you think really happened to Professor Snape?" Blaise asked, his voice low.

"You heard what Dumbledore said," Greg replied. "He was burned trying to restrain the dragon."

"That's bollocks and, you know it." Millicent rolled her eyes. "No one injured but Professor Snape? And Professor Quirrell suddenly taken to St. Mungo's with Spattergroit as all this dragon business is going on? Something happened, something big."

"Quirrell's been ill all year," Daphne said, but she didn't seem especially convinced. "Remember how terrible he looked in January?" She frowned, then argued against her own point. "Though that isn't what Spattergroit looks like. My cousin had it once. It was terrible."

"Do you think Harry and Draco know the truth?" Greg asked, glancing toward the door leading to the dorms.

No one replied.

Minerva wanted nothing more than a stiff drink (or three) and a good night's sleep (or three). She walked slowly from Albus's office, her head spinning. It seemed hard to believe so much had occurred in a single day, and yet here she was.

She made her way to the Hospital Wing, where Poppy seemed to have melted into the chair behind her desk.

"You look as tired as I feel," Minerva said, leaning against the desk.

Poppy's eyes were closed, but she grunted and said, "A dragon. It's a miracle no one was killed, or even seriously injured. And besides that..."

Minerva didn't reply. She sat in one of the student-sized chairs opposite Poppy, both silent, thinking over what had occurred beneath the trapdoor.

"I can't believe he was here," Poppy murmured, opening her eyes. "I can't go back to those days. Not again."

"He was fought off," Minerva said quietly. "And he's weaker for it."

"Indeed," Poppy said, though she didn't seem particularly comforted. After a moment, she asked, "Did you believe he died, when he vanished?"

Minerva thought for a moment before answering, and when she did, she spoke honestly. "I wanted to believe that, very much so. But there was no body, nothing to prove he'd died and not simply vanished." She sighed. "I always suspected he'd try to return."

Poppy nodded, a bit of her usual demeanor coming back to her. "Well, he didn't succeed."

"He didn't." Minerva gazed in the direction of the white sheet separating them from the beds. "Is he up for a visitor?"

"He's out like a light. I gave him a double dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion."

"I can't believe he took it. He must have fought you tooth and nail."

"Like you wouldn't believe," Poppy said with a tired smile. "But he eventually accepted that I can be even more stubborn than him."

"Remind me never to lock you two in a room together," Minerva said, a tired smile of her own playing at her lips.

She stopped by Severus's bed before she left, and was struck not for the first time by how young the head of Slytherin was.

"You know," Poppy said haltingly. She hesitated before continuing, unable to make eye contact with Minerva. "When Severus first started teaching, I thought Professor Dumbledore had lost his mind. I was convinced he was still on You-Know-Who's side."

"As did I," Minerva admitted. "As did everyone." She looked down at the sleeping man, the permanent creases of worry smoothed out for once in his life. "We were terribly wrong, weren't we?"

Harry and Draco both sat on their beds, too tired to do much of anything but stare at the wall in silence. Harry was exhausted, but his mind was racing too quickly for his body to allow him to sleep. It seemed impossible that just hours earlier both he and Draco had stood in this same room, their wands pointed at one another.

"What happens now?" Harry finally asked.

Draco lifted a shoulder, then let it drop.

"Your dad got away," Harry said. It wasn't a question, but it wasn't exactly a statement either.

Draco shrugged again.

"Did you want him to be captured?"

"Of course not." Draco shot Harry a look as though he'd asked the stupidest question in the world. "Why would I want that?"

"I don't know." Harry flopped back on his bed. "What do you want?"

"For none of this to have happened."

"I can't believe there was a dragon in the castle!" Reggie Derrick crowed in the Slytherin common room. "An actual dragon!"

"It wasn't in the castle," Alice Robertson pointed out. "It was on the grounds."

"Oh, you know what I meant, Miss Grammar Queen," Reggie shot back, rolling his eyes. "And you screamed louder than anyone!"

"Of course I did! It was a dragon!"

"Where is it now?" Lucian Bole asked, sprawled across a leather sofa, legs hanging over its arm. "Did the Ministry come pick it up yet?"

"I visited Hagrid after dinner," Tracey spoke up. "It was hard to understand him through the crying, but he said Norbert's in an escape-proof crate in Dumbledore's office. Charlie Weasley is going to take it to a reserve in Romania."

"Typical Hagrid, thinking no one would notice any of this." Lucian chuckled, then said, "Glad he did, though. Now I can say I've seen a proper Norwegian Ridgeback up close!"

"Up close? It was all the way up in the air, over the castle," Millicent said.

"Oi, shut it, firstie."

"Can you believe Professor Snape fought it off?" Alice asked. "I mean, I can, but I wish I could have seen it."

"Imagine watching Snape fight off a dragon," Reggie agreed.

"I hope he wasn't terribly injured. Marcus, either." Alice frowned. She didn't like Marcus much, but she didn't want him hurt. "I know Madam Pomfrey said they're fine, but she wouldn't allow any visitors."

"She never allows visitors," Lucian reminded her. "Besides, if she let one of us in, we'd all show up, and then it would be a contest of who'd hex us all first, Professor Snape or Madam Pomfrey."

The Slytherins laughed, then fell silent.

"You know," Reggie said slowly. "We've been talking all year about how we haven't had a single Snape-free evening, and Madam Pomfrey said he won't be back until tomorrow."

The gathered students stared at one another. Millicent raised an eyebrow. All year long she'd heard about parties of legend that had occurred on those exceedingly rare occasions the house was able to determine Snape wasn't in his quarters for the night. As the tales went, he spent those evenings with Charity Burbage in her quarters on the sixth floor, even if no one was able to prove it.

This was the first year in recent memory such a night hadn't occurred. Millicent suspected it had something to do with all the creeping about from the first year, and the cloaked figure that had gone after Harry all those months ago. Now she watched as her housemates glanced at one another, ideas slowly forming.

"Oi, Higgs," Lucian called over to the head prefect, who hadn't moved from his spot in his nook since they'd returned from dinner. "Can we trust you to keep your mouth shut?"

"What?" Terence asked, looking up, barely seeming to have heard the question.

"It's a Snape-free night. We haven't had one all year. I know you get off on obeying every rule to the letter, but-"

"Go for it," Terence said. "I'm going to bed soon, anyway."

Minerva couldn't sleep. She kept thinking of what terrible events might have happened had things been ever-so-slightly different today. That, and because it was only half-past-eight.

She stopped by the Gryffindor common room, something she didn't frequently do. The students fell silent as she entered, and she motioned for them to carry on as usual, taking a seat by the fire. This was something Severus did with his students all the time, but this wasn't the same. Her students were reserved, glancing repeatedly at her, clearly wondering what she was doing there. It made sense, she supposed. When one didn't spend much time with their house, one couldn't expect a natural bond.

She often teased Severus for spending so much time looking after his students, but beneath that teasing she respected him for it. She thought of his Slytherins, alone in their common room. The poor things were probably woebegone, consumed with worry for their ever-present housemaster.

"Where are Granger and Longbottom?" Minerva asked Fred Weasley.

"Went to bed early, Professor. I think they were tuckered out by all the excitement." Fred's eyes gleamed with excitement of his own. "Can you believe Hagrid had a dragon?"

She stayed a bit longer, but she could feel her house was holding back with her there, and as she left she wondered if she might start coming by more often. Not as frequently as Severus did his common room, but enough that doing so wasn't a historic event.

Just in case something goes wrong, look after my Slytherins, won't you?

Severus's words before he disappeared into the black flames echoed through her ears. Things had gone wrong, but not that wrong, thank goodness.

Minerva took a right where she'd normally take a left, veering off-course from her quarters. It wouldn't do to leave the Slytherins on their own all night, not after they believed their beloved head of house to be injured by a beastly dragon. She'd provide a few words of comfort to them, then finally get some sleep.

She couldn't help but shake her head ruefully as she reached the dungeons. She'd never imagined she'd develop such a soft spot for the Slytherins, but she supposed Severus had a point. Many of their parents had been horrid, but they weren't their parents. She'd seen that firsthand today from Draco Malfoy, and it wasn't something she'd soon forget.

Standing outside the common room, Minerva uttered the password Severus had given her in case of emergency. As the wall slid open, she prepared herself for a sea of nervous faces. Instead, she found herself hit by a wave of loud music. A wireless was set in the middle of the room and it blasted something by the Weird Sisters or another one of those new bands at top volume. Minerva stared at the sight before her- the Slytherins were strewn across the room, swaying to music, blasting homemade targets out of the air with their wands. In alcoves, various couples snuggled against one another, blankets covering wherever their hands might be situated. The unmistakable scent of cigarettes hovered over the room. There was a bottle of scotch somewhere; Minerva couldn't see it, but, like the cigarettes, she could smell it.

Everyone fell silent. The only sound was the booming music of of the wireless. It, too, went quiet as it was hastily switched off. Minerva stared at the Slytherins. The faces that gazed back at her were terrified, but not for the reason she'd expected when she'd decided to stop by. Any Slytherin who wasn't on their feet scrambled to do so, and for a very long moment everyone just looked at one another, not knowing what to do.

Minerva straightened her posture. She allowed the Slytherins to stew in the silence for several excruciating moments before stepping back, announcing, "Carry on," and flashing the students a small smile as the wall slid shut in front of her.

"What is going on with you two?" Blaise demanded as the entire Slytherin first year piled into the boys' dorm.

"You're not supposed to be here," Harry protested as the girls marched in.

"So?" Millicent asked, depositing herself at the foot of Harry's bed. "What are you going to do about it?"

When Harry and Draco didn't respond, Greg said, "Listen, everyone says I'm thick as a rock, but even I can tell something's wrong. Spill it."

Harry glanced at Draco. He wouldn't mind telling the rest of the year what had happened, but he didn't want to reveal Draco's father's involvement without his consent.

"You-Know-Who was in the castle today," Draco finally said.

The rest of the first year stared at them, then they all began asking questions at once.

In the end, Harry and Draco told them an abridged version of what had happened. There was no mention of Lucius Malfoy, nor of the Invisibility Cloak; instead, they shared the story of how Marcus Flint tried to lure them to the third floor corridor, and how Terence Higgs defended them. They explained that Hermione and Neville had helped as well, and that Professor Snape hid them in his study while he hurried to hold off Voldemort.

"And that's why Marcus is in the Hospital Wing? And that's how Professor Snape was injured?" Tracey asked, her mouth hanging open. "The dragon wasn't real, then?" She paused. "But no, we saw the dragon!"

"There was a dragon, too," Harry said weakly. "Unrelated to any of this. Well, kind of related. It's been a long day."

Severus didn't make a grand entrance into the Great Hall, making his way to the staff table quietly. Of course, his Slytherins immediately noticed him and jumped up to see how he was recovering from his supposed dragon attack.

"I'm fine," he said shortly. "Nothing more than some mild burns, which Madam Pomfrey cleared up overnight. Now sit and eat."

Minerva mercifully let him drink his coffee in peace, knowing him well enough that it was useless to attempt an in-depth conversation until he'd been given a proper chance to wake up. Still, Severus couldn't help but admit he felt remarkably rested. The Dreamless Sleep Potion had done its job.

"I checked in on your students last night," Minerva said to him as they rose from the table. "I figured they might be worried about you."

"And?"

"I was right. The poor dears could barely sleep. They were terribly concerned for you."

Severus rolled his eyes. He was shocked they hadn't thrown a party. "You didn't have to do that."

"I did. You're welcome." She paused. "You're all right?"

"I'm fine." Severus glanced sideways at her. "Bourbon, tonight, Astronomy Tower? I know you're determined to talk about it, so we might as well get it over with."

"Sounds lovely." Minerva smiled at him, and as they made their way down from the platform housing the head table, Filius and Pomona blocked their way.

"Severus," Pomona said. "We're thrilled you're safe."

"Thrilled," Filius repeated.

"I appreciate the concern," Severus said, starting to move around them. "But-"

"Shush," Pomona interrupted, holding out an arm to block him. "We're not finished."

Severus paused, eyebrow raised.

"You can't do what you did yesterday," Filius said, his voice low. "The two of you just ran to the corridor as though you're the only people who work here."

"There was no time-" Minerva started.

"Nonsense," Pomona said. She folded her arms. "The two of you have your friendship, and that's a lovely thing, but you're not the only heads of house. All year you've plotted your little plans, skulking about, leaving us out of it. We have students to protect too, and it's not very pleasant to be forgotten. It's especially unpleasant to be kept out of the loop by your own colleagues."

Minerva and Severus glanced at one another. After a moment, Severus said, "Pomona, Filius. If the Dark Lord ever infiltrates the castle again, you'll be the first people we tell. We promise."

"That's the spirit," Filius said, reaching up to pat Severus's shoulder and settling on his elbow instead. "And it's all we ask."

"My study, noon," Professor Snape murmured in Draco's ear as he passed the Slytherin table on his way out of the Great Hall. To Harry, he said "Half past twelve."

Harry had no clue how he managed to get through classes that morning. Snape knew what he'd done with the Invisibility Cloak, and Harry knew whatever conversation he had in Snape's study would be exceedingly unpleasant. He couldn't stop thinking about the cane in the corner cabinet.

"He's going to kill me," Harry murmured as they practiced turning salt shakers into opera glasses in Transfiguration class. "If I hadn't given the Invisibility Cloak to Neville none of this would have happened."

"Want to trade places?" Draco asked, poking his wand half-heartedly at his salt shaker.

"No," Harry admitted, thinking of what this summer would be like for Draco. "Do you think your dad knows you didn't obey him?"

"Dumbledore said he was fooled," Draco said. "But either way..."

Harry nodded. He couldn't imagine living with what Draco was now.

"But I suppose being caned must be pretty bad too," Draco relented, glancing sideways at Harry. "It's your own bloody fault, Potter."

Despite the churning of his stomach, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit of comfort. This was the Draco he remembered.

"Focus," Professor McGonagall said behind them, but her voice lacked its usual bite. She looked tired. Everyone was, including the Slytherins who'd stayed up the entire night, many disappearing down isolated corridors deep within the dungeon and not returning until the wee hours of the morning.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry and Draco said, turning back to their salt shakers. Both felt Professor McGonagall's hand lightly brush their shoulders as she passed.

"My father wasn't caught." Draco sat across from Professor Snape, staring at the housemaster.

"No, he wasn't." Professor Snape motioned for Draco to drink the water he'd been offered, and did the same from his own glass. "It was... rather chaotic when Professor Dumbledore appeared."

"I thought Professor Dumbledore was supposed to be the greatest wizard of all time." Draco shook his head, mulling this over. "How could my father just escape like that?"

"Professor Dumbledore may be a powerful wizard, but he can't see someone who is invisible, Draco." Snape sipped his water again before saying, "In any other circumstance your father likely would have been stopped, Invisibility Cloak or not, but Professor Dumbledore was rather more focused on restraining the Dark Lord." He paused. "Again, it happened incredibly quickly."

"He failed at that too. Didn't he?" At Professor Snape's raised eyebrow, Draco added, "Sir."

"There will be an announcement tonight," Snape said quietly. "That Professor Quirrell passed away at St. Mungo's due to an incurable case of Spattergroit."

Draco's mouth opened; before he could speak, Snape went on. "Professor Quirrell did not have Spattergroit. He was working with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The Dark Lord was living beneath his turban."

"He was what?"

"Professor Quirrell was the Dark Lord's host. When Dumbledore arrived, the Dark Lord fled, killing Professor Quirrell immediately."

"Where did he go, sir?"

"I don't know," Snape admitted. "He was weak, in his current form. He'll be even weaker now. It will be some time before he regains enough strength to attempt to restore himself."

"But he will," Draco deduced. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. "Won't he, sir?"

"Most likely." This hung in the air for a moment, then Snape said, "I'm very proud of your actions yesterday, Draco."

Draco stared at his lap. Professor Flitwick and Sprout said they were proud of everyone all the time, but it was an extremely rare compliment from Snape. He didn't know how to reply.

"Your father does not know you betrayed him. He still believes me to be an agent of the Dark Lord. He remains clueless to what actually happened yesterday."

"He's an idiot," Draco muttered, staring at his lap. "Sir." When Snape didn't reply, he looked up. "He really doesn't know you're a traitor?" He hesitated, then said, "Well, you're not. Not really. He's the traitor."

Snape nodded slowly, then said, "You never would have said a thing like that at the start of the year."

"No," Draco admitted. "I suppose not."

Snape didn't say he was proud of Draco again, but he didn't need to. Draco stared at his lap again, amazed at how much it meant to him. It meant almost as much as his father being proud of him.

Possibly even more.

"Is my father going to prison? I know he wasn't caught, sir, but you saw him. So did Professor Dumbledore"

"No," Snape said. "There's no proof he was beneath the school, no proof that any of this happened beyond my word. Professor Dumbledore only saw him for the briefest fraction of a second, and his attention was focused on Quirrell. It wouldn't hold up, not with Azkaban on the line." When Draco didn't reply, he asked, "Do you want your father to go to Azkaban?"

"No, sir," Draco said quietly. "But what happens now?"

"We continue onward," Snape said. "As we always do."

"I don't know how to continue onward," Draco admitted.

Snape studied him, then said, "You'll learn. We all do at some point."

"It doesn't sound very easy, sir."

"Of course it isn't. Nothing is." Snape offered Draco one of his very rare smiles as he nodded at him. "But I have faith in you, Draco. In time you'll discover faith in yourself as well."

Harry's terror at what would occur in Snape's study had only grown throughout the morning. By the time Draco slipped away at lunch for his appointment, Harry thought he might be sick. Claiming he had an upset stomach, he didn't go to the Great Hall, instead waiting in the common room with the air of a condemned prisoner.

The older students had done a surprisingly good job clearing the evidence of their party. Harry wished the celebration had occurred any other night, one in which he hadn't spent in near silence in his dorm. Perhaps next year, if Snape didn't expel him.

You're not going to be expelled, Harry reassured himself. Just caned, probably.

That didn't do much to calm him down.

All right, he thought. All right. It was what it was. He'd take it like a man. Draco was right, it was his own fault. He'd brought this on himself. He'd march into Snape's office and take the punishment.

Standing up, he wondered if he might not march, but wobble instead. It seemed all his legs were capable of managing. Slowly, Harry made his way to Snape's office, standing aside as Draco exited.

"Good luck," Draco murmured as he passed.

"Thanks," Harry replied, gathering up his nerve and walking in.

Professor Snape stood behind his desk and gestured for Harry to take a seat. Once he had, Snape sat as well, and offered him some water.

"No, thank you," Harry said, his heart hammering in his throat. "I'm not very thirsty, sir."

"Drink anyway," Snape said impatiently. "It'll calm you down."

Flushing red at how obviously terrified he was, Harry gulped down half the glass of water. So much for taking it like a man.

"Tell me everything," Snape said.

And so Harry did. He told Snape again about getting the Invisibility Cloak at Christmas, about how he didn't intend on using it, but that it had been his father's, the only thing his father's he owned.

"I never wore it aside from trying it on at Christmas and seeing how it worked, sir," he explained. "I meant it when I said I wasn't going to sneak around anymore. I gave it to Neville so you wouldn't find it at inspection, but I wasn't going to use it." He hesitated. "I suppose that doesn't sound very believable, sir."

"It doesn't," Snape said dryly.

"I really wasn't going to use it, sir," Harry said, staring at his lap. "I was just so frightened of you taking it away forever."

"Did you really think I would confiscate your one possession of your father's forever?" Snape asked. "I certainly would have held onto it during your time at Hogwarts, but forever?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh, though he wasn't especially amused. Closer to embarrassed with himself. "The end of seventh year feels a bit like forever, sir."

"It will come faster than you imagine," Snape told him. He stared at Harry, and not for the first time the latter wondered if the former could read minds. The strange probing feeling stretched into his mind, then dissipated, after which Snape said quietly, "I believe you, Potter."

Harry looked up sharply. "You do, sir?"

"Yes. I believe you never intended to use the cloak. I also believe you went behind my back in an attempt to hide it with another student, an attempt that was proven to be remarkably foolish, as said student used the cloak in an attempt to smuggle a dragon out of the school. An attempt that failed and led to the events of yesterday."

Harry lowered his head, unable to speak.

"I believe what happened yesterday was bound to happen eventually," Snape said quietly, and Harry felt a brief glimmer of hope. "However, you certainly helped speed it along, whether you intended to or not."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry whispered. "When I gave Neville the cloak, I didn't think that..." He lowered his head further. "Well, that's just it, isn't it, sir? I didn't think."

"Look at me, Potter."

Harry looked up, swallowing hard.

"You made a mistake. A terrible mistake, one that can't be ignored. But I don't expect you to wallow in self-pity over it. In fact, I'd lose a great deal of respect for you if you did. What I expect..." He trailed off, waiting for Harry to finish the sentence.

"What you expect is for me to learn," Harry said, repeating the words he'd heard more than once throughout the year. "I will, sir."

Snape nodded. "Actions have consequences, whether you intend them to or not. You should have given me your cloak the moment you received it."

"I should have. I wish I had, sir," Harry agreed. Hesitating for a long moment, he gathered every last bit of courage he had and said. "If... you know. If you're going to cane me, sir, that's all right. I mean, I understand."

Snape's lip twitched in something very vaguely resembling a small, involuntary smile. Gravely, he said, "It's good to know I have your permission."

He rose from his chair and stepped to the cabinet, opening it slowly and retrieving the dreaded object with an air of ceremony. Harry stared, dread coursing through his veins.

"Remind me." Snape returned to his desk, cane in hand. "When you were threatened with this, what exactly did I say?"

Harry hesitated, wishing Snape wouldn't draw it out like this. He just wanted to get it over with. "Erm- well..."

"Think, Harry," Snape said, going out of his way to use his given name.

"You... you said if we went poking around the third floor corridor again, or if we hid things and took matters into our own hands again, you'd..." Harry nodded at the cane, barely able to look at it. "I did two of those things, sir."

"You did," Snape agreed. He paused, then said, "You should have given the cloak directly to me." He paused again, continuing with, "Instead, you gave it to a student for safekeeping, intending for neither of you to actually use it. As I said, I do believe that, Potter. I think in your own foolish way, your intentions were well-meaning."

Harry looked up sharply.

"The moment you learned keeping your cloak out of reach with a fellow first-year was an incredibly unwise decision, you came to me without hesitation," Snape went on, "Knowing this," he nodded at the cane, "Was an inevitable conclusion of doing so."

Harry stared at him, unable to speak.

"You immediately sought me out, and continued to do so as the situation spiraled even further out of control. At no point did you attempt to run into danger or take control yourself- something I do not imagine you would have done of at the start of the year." Snape studied him, then said, "Then, when all was said and done, you did not hesitate to admit everything to me, not trying to hide any detail. You accepted your punishment without argument or pleas for pity."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. What was Snape doing?

"I'm showing you mercy, Potter," Snape said quietly. "It's not something I do often. You will never experience it from me again."

Harry reached for his glass of water and gulped down the remaining half. "Sir... I..."

"Don't make me regret it," Snape said, his voice going sharp. "You're on the thinnest of ice. A single toe out of line..."

"I know- I won't, sir," Harry said quickly. "I swear."

"Never swear a promise you're not sure you can keep," Snape said, turning away and returning the cane to the cabinet. Harry could barely believe it as he shut the door.

"Thank you, sir," he said, his voice practically a whisper. "Thank you."

"Don't me regret it," Snape said again. Sighing, he opened his desk drawer. "Shall we get this over with, then?"

Harry stared as Snape retrieved his ruler. Gaping, he only managed a soft, "Oh."

Snape stared at him, an incredulous look on his face. "For God's sake, you didn't think I was letting you off completely, did you, Potter?" When Harry awkwardly mumbled an inaudible response, Snape thundered, "You lied to me! You hid an Invisibility Cloak! I may not be giving you six of the best, but I'm certainly punishing you! Don't you know me at all, Potter?"

Harry decided it was wisest not to reply, instead rising from his chair and quickly bending over the desk before Snape could yank him there himself.

"For God's sake," Snape muttered again, storming around the desk, ruler in hand. Harry closed his eyes, preparing himself. He felt a hand press against his back, holding him in place. "I'm never showing you mercy again, Potter."

Draco watched as Harry walked stiffly into the dorm. After their conversation, Professor Snape had given him permission to skip his afternoon classes on the condition he spent it reading at least a few chapters of a Muggle book. He'd only just started, and as far as he knew it was by some American and had something to do with mockingbirds. According to Snape, it was about standing up for what was right, whether or not it was popular. He supposed he'd give it a shot.

"Well?" he asked impatiently as Harry flopped facedown on his bed.

Harry grunted.

"So, he caned you, then?" Draco closed his book. "What was it like? Was it terrible?"

Harry shook his head without looking up. His voice muffled, he admitted, "He didn't cane me. But it was still awful."

"Not as bad as the cane," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "You got off easy."

"How would you know?"

Draco smirked, and a memory washed over him, one from the start of the year, when he'd been in a similar facedown position on his bed after inadvertently running afoul of Snape. Harry had attempted to offer him some of Hagrid's rock cakes, which he'd hurled against the wall. Pausing, Draco reached into his cloak pocket, where he'd been carrying three Sugar Quills from his parents' most recent care package. Somehow they didn't seem as appealing as they once had.

"Catch," he said, tossing the sweets on Harry's bed.

Harry looked up as they bounced on his mattress beside him. He lifted one up and nodded at Draco. "Hey. Thanks."

Draco just crossed his eyes before turning back to his book.

"What are you reading?"

Draco held up the book, then lowered it. "Professor Snape wants me to better understand the Muggle perspective."

"And you're actually reading it?"

Draco shrugged. "Can't hurt."

They stayed silent for a while, then Harry said, "This reminds me of our first few weeks at school. The early bedtimes, just you and me here."

Draco snorted. "I hated you then."

"I hated you, too."

The two boys laughed quietly. Harry studied Draco, then said, "Do you hate me now?"

"Don't be stupid. Of course not." Draco rolled his eyes. "I defied my father for you. I think you're an idiot, but you're all right for an idiot."

"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't get used to it, Potter."

"You know, you're all right for an idiot, too."

Marcus Flint gasped as the Body-Bind Curse was removed. He stumbled backwards, directly into the sofa behind him. Looking around wildly, he asked, "Where am I?"

"My personal quarters," Severus replied coolly. "It's the only place we could speak in private."

"How long have I..." Marcus ran a hand through his hair, aware of the fact that he'd been moved from Snape's study, but not aware until now where he'd been taken. "What day is it?"

"Monday afternoon. You've been under the effects of the curse for barely a day, Flint."

Marcus glared at him. "You-"

"Be quiet." Severus motioned for Marcus to sit. When he didn't, he swallowed, preparing himself for what he needed to do.

It was the only solution, even if he didn't feel right about doing it. Dumbledore agreed, as did a begrudging Minerva. It felt wrong, but then again, life wasn't fair.

He could tell Marcus the truth, that the Dark Lord had been in the castle. Of course, Marcus would immediately tell his father what had happened, and when Flint Sr. confirmed the events with Lucius Malfoy, the entire former cadre of Death Eaters would whip themselves into a frenzy. They'd also find out what Severus said to Marcus at this pivotal time. If he reprimanded him, they'd be furious- there was teaching their offspring to be subtle, which was one thing, but actively speaking out in private against actions they'd perceive as heroic was another.

If he praised him... Severus swallowed. He'd do it if he had to, if it meant keeping his cover. Marcus Flint was fervent to the cause, as fervent as they came. But that was just it- the boy had only a single year left at Hogwarts, after which he'd be turned loose into the world. It wasn't much time, but Severus was determined to turn him away from the path he was headed down. Praising him for his actions... it would help Severus's cover, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, not with such little time left.

Hating himself, Severus raised his wand.

Marcus's sneer faded away. "What are you-"

"Forgive me, Marcus," Severus said, and he forced himself to utter, "Obliviate."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Neville said, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he, Harry, and Hermione stood outside the greenhouses. "It was a terrible thing to do."

"If you aren't able to forgive us, we more than understand," Hermione said, studying her shoes very intently. "We never should have used your cloak."

"I'm not thrilled about it," Harry admitted. "But I don't hate you."

Neville and Hermione glanced at one another, then nodded.

"That's fair," Hermione said.

"More than fair," Neville agreed.

"I forgive you," Harry held out a hand, and they both shook it in turn. "But I'm never lending you anything again."

"Also fair," Hermione said, as Neville repeated, "More than fair."

Harry paused. "So, what did Professor McGonagall do now that she knows about the cloak, and that you were going to use it to help Norbert escape?"

"Gave us detention," Neville said. "We're writing lines every night for the rest of the month. But she also was proud of how we handled Marcus Flint. Did you hear he lost his memory?"

"Fell down the stairs on as he left the Hospital Wing," Harry confirmed. "Snape told everyone his memory of the entire past day was clouded because of it." He paused. "Sounds fishy, doesn't it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, unable to help herself. "Haven't you heard of Memory Charms?"

Harry hadn't, but he was quickly informed. That evening he gathered up all his courage and approached Professor Snape in the common room, but as he reached the eternally stern figure he lost his nerve, instead backing down and asking, "Sir, would you tell us the story again of the time Peeves went to live with the merpeople in the lake and wound up flooding the castle?"

Professor Snape's lips twitched. "Do you think you deserve such a story after the way you've conducted yourself?"

Harry smiled. That was one good thing about Snape; no matter how angry he was with you, once you were punished it was over.

"Gather round," Snape announced, raising his voice so the entire common room could hear. "I've got an even better one. Who wants to hear about the time the Giant Squid managed to find itself atop the Astronomy Tower?"

An hour later, Severus and Minerva sat atop the same Astronomy Tower on which the Squid had found itself due to the combined effects of an unrelated series pranks paired with some truly unexpected weather.

"What was it like?" Minerva asked, sipping at her bourbon. "Seeing him again?"

"Terrible," Severus admitted. "He entered my mind, and for a moment... I had to become that person again, to throw him off." He sighed. "It was very unpleasant, I'll say that much."

"You've come a long way," Minerva said. "A shockingly long way. I admire you, Severus."

"Hush," Severus said, waving the compliment away as he did all compliments. "Anyway, it's over and done with."

"Indeed." Minerva shook her head, then let out a low chuckle. "An Invisibility Cloak. Of all things the students would be hiding." She shook her head. "It makes so much sense now. No wonder James Potter got up to so much mischief." She glanced sideways at Severus. "Did you know about it?"

"If I'd known James Potter had an Invisibility Cloak, I'd have reported it in a heartbeat," Severus said sipping at his own bourbon.

"Yes, you would have," Minerva agreed. They gazed over the castle ramparts at the starry sky spread out before them. "I suppose our plan to lure Quirinus into forbidden corridor during the summer, once the students were gone, has to be scrapped now, doesn't it?"

"Seems rather ineffective given that he's dead," Severus agreed. They fell silent.

"The fool," Minerva finally said. "I suspected- we all did- but at the same time..." She sighed. "At least we both survived the school year. Honestly, there were times I wasn't sure we'd both make it."

"Don't push it," Severus said, smirking slightly. "It isn't over yet."

Lucius didn't say a word as Severus approached him at the Hog's Head. He nodded, unable to make eye contact, staring directly into his drink.

"You won't be prosecuted," Severus murmured. "Dumbledore saw you, but only for a split second. It's not enough for a proper case. It's impressive you managed to flee under his nose."

"I had the Portkey," Lucius admitted. "The same Portkey I used to enter the castle. It's the only reason I escaped."

"That was lucky," Severus said, making an immediate note to learn how to activate the castle's wards against Portkeys in the future.

Lucius exhaled, but his expression didn't change. "And you?"

"The old fool thinks I charged in to try and stop the Dark Lord." Severus rolled his eyes. "Business as always. My cover remains in tact."

"The Dark Lord will be furious," Lucius said quietly. "Is furious, I imagine. If he returns..."

"If," Severus said, sighing deeply. "Hopefully that day will come, and when it does, hopefully we will be forgiven. Do you still have the Invisibility Cloak?"

"Yes. I'm saving it for Draco, when he's older." Finally, Lucius looked up. "At least the Dark Lord knows Draco obeyed. At least we have that."

"Indeed," Severus said. "Your son is loyal, Lucius. You must be very proud."

"I am," Lucius said, looking terribly tired. "Very proud. You've no idea."

And just like that, the end of the year was upon them. One week before he'd depart on the Hogwarts Express, Terence Higgs found himself summoned to Professor Snape's study.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Sit, Higgs." Snape gestured at the chair opposite his desk, and Terence sat, vaguely reminded of their meeting at the beginning of the year. It seemed as though it had been decades ago. "Congratulations on your exams. Top marks again."

"Thank you, sir." Terence leaned forward, knowing what this meeting was about, and willing himself not to hope for the impossible.

"Higgs," Snape said slowly. "The new Head Boy and Girl have been decided. Their names will not be announced until tomorrow morning, but I won't keep you in suspense. A Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw were chosen."

"Oh," Terence said. He opened his mouth, then closed it. "Oh." Thinking this over, he nodded and said, "Well, thank you for telling me, sir. I won't tell anyone."

"You deserved to be chosen," Snape said frankly. "More than anyone. The amount of effort you've put in, the marks you've achieved... You've proven effective management skills as both Quidditch Captain and as Head Prefect. I fought for you, harder than I've fought for any student."

"That's nice of you to say, sir," Terence said. His voice didn't feel like his own; it felt distant, sterile. "It's really all right. I know I'm not guaranteed anything."

"That's true. No one is guaranteed a damn thing, and life isn't fair." Snape studied Terence, then said, "All the same, I'm sorry. You should have been Head Boy. Especially after your actions this year."

"I'm not upset, sir," Terence said. It was half a lie, half the truth. He'd expected this, prepared for it, but it still stung. "I understand. The way I conducted myself my first few years at Hogwarts... it left a stain."

"And yet you grew. You learned, and you changed. That may not count for much outside of Slytherin, but it means everything here." Snape shook his head, and Terence was surprised to see the housemaster was actually upset on his behalf. He was trying to hide it, but there was a genuine frustration seeping through that touched Terence more than he could put into words. "Higgs. You're aware of the fact that I usually pick sixth years as Head Prefect."

"Yes, sir. Because seventh years are distracted, and more prone to let things slide since they're feeling soppy about leaving Hogwarts."

"You, Higgs, are the furthest person I know from soppy," Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "And it may not the same as Head Boy, but, for the first time, I'd like to offer the Head Prefect position to the same person a second year in a row. The decision is yours, of course."

Terence studied Snape carefully. Finally, he said, "I thought you didn't believe in consolation prizes, sir."

Snape snorted, then grew serious as he said, "I don't, but I believe in you more."

Harry sat in Hagrid's rebuilt hut the last Saturday before term ended, slowly paging through the photo album he'd been given. Hagrid had contacted all of Harry's parents' old school friends and asked for photos, and now, for the first time he could remember, Harry found himself gazing at the faces of his parents. He was shocked at how much he resembled his father, but his mother- their eyes were exactly the same.

He turned the pages as slowly as he could, but found the very last photo stopped him in his tracks. Unlike the others, it didn't move. It was an old, black-and-white Muggle photo, perhaps from the sixties or early seventies. Two young children, eight or nine years old, beamed at the camera. Even in black-and-white, Harry could tell the girl was his mother, but the boy beside her-

"Who gave this to you?" Harry asked Hagrid, his mouth very dry.

"Who do yeh think?" Hagrid shook his head, smiling. "He doesn' like to show it, but he has his soft side. He'd bite yer head off if you told him, though."

Harry found Snape in his study. Hesitating, he gestured at the photo album. "Thank you, sir."

Snape nodded, his expression unreadable. "If I'm not mistaken, many people contributed to it."

"Thank you for being one of them." Harry gestured at the album again. "You knew her? Before Hogwarts?"

"We grew up in the same town," Snape confirmed. "Cokeworth. I've told you my father was a Muggle, have I not?"

"You did, sir. I just... I didn't know my mum and you were friends."

"Long ago," Snape said. "Very long ago. I didn't know I still had the photo until I went searching after Hagrid came to me with his request." He paused. "Your mother was a remarkable person."

Harry was too overwhelmed by this revelation to ask Snape if he had any stories of what his mother had been like, but he put the thought aside in his mind for another day. It was nice to know it was a possibility.

Soon their trunks were packed, wardrobes emptied, and beds stripped. Millicent ran about in a tizzy, talking nonstop about the cat she'd been promised if her exams came back with good marks. The marks had indeed been good, and she'd already come up with at least forty possible names for the yet-unseen feline.

The very last night before they left on the Hogwarts Express, Snape let them throw a party in the common room. It was nothing like the wild experience Harry had missed the night Voldemort nearly returned and the dragon broke loose, but it was still wonderful, with streamers and magical indoor fireworks and a light show the older students put on once all the candles were extinguished. Harry lay flat on his back, absentmindedly stroking Mrs. Norris as she walked past, marveling at the fact that he'd been frightened his first night in Slytherin. It seemed impossible now that he'd ever regretted allowing the Sorting Hat to place him here. Staring up at the magical lights flitting around the room, he was silently grateful for Snape, for Slytherin, for all his friends in his year- even Draco.

Harry couldn't imagine having been sorted anywhere else.

"Well, that's that," Minerva said, entering the staff room. "The train just left."

A cheer swelled amongst the assembled staff as they began to share their plans for the summer holiday. Severus leaned back in his chair, grateful to have two months to himself, away from the constant stress of managing a houseful of tightly-wound children.

"You'll miss them," Minerva murmured in his ear as she passed, to which Severus just smirked. He would miss them by the time September rolled around. Not that he'd ever admit it, and not that he missed them now.

Charity Burbage flopped into the chair next to him and exhaled happily. "I never thought this day would come."

Severus shifted toward her, keeping his voice low. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to drop by much this year. It's been... a train wreck, to be honest."

"Don't say that," Charity said, chuckling as she shook her head. "Not with the Hogwarts Express just having left."

Severus slipped a hand under the table, lightly brushing Charity's leg as subtly as possible. "It's been a difficult year."

"I know, and you don't need to say you're sorry. Next term, if you want to visit, the door is always open."

"I might just take you up on that," Severus said. "In fact, I know I will."

"Good. You've been entirely too stressed this year. It'll do you good."

"I have been stressed," Severus admitted. He massaged his temples. "I plan to make this summer a restful one."

"And is that all you'll be doing this summer?" Charity shot him a faux-innocent smile.

"That depends." Severus smirked again. "Are you going to that same resort in Nice again?"

"Booked myself a king-sized bed, just as I always do."

"Seems a waste to keep a king-sized bed all to yourself."

Across the room, Pomona turned to Minerva and said, "Do they think they're fooling anyone?"

"They know we know," Minerva said, shaking her head and smiling. "They'll just kill us if we ever acknowledge it."

"Children," Pomona chortled, shaking her head as well. "The both of them."

Harry passed through the barrier concealing Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, Draco alongside him. In the distance, he could see Uncle Vernon glowering in different directions, not having spotted him yet. Then he followed Draco's gaze, which was directed further up the platform toward his parents. Like the Dursleys, they were glancing around aimlessly.

"Well," Harry said. "Have a good summer, then."

"You too," Draco said. "Sorry about... you know." He jerked his head toward his father.

"Not your fault." Harry paused, then stuck out his hand. "Write to me, if you want."

"I might," Draco said grasping it and shaking. "You write to me too, if you want."

"I might," Harry said. "Have a good summer."

"I'll try. You do, too."

They were forced forward then, by the incoming crowd behind them making their way through the barrier, and Harry and Draco were pushed ahead, propelled onward by the throng of students surrounding them.

The End

Did I mention this was the longest chapter? It's also the last chapter- surprise!

Well, it's the last chapter for this fic. The story of 'Eternal Point' isn't over yet, just the first year. I'll be posting the chapter one of the sequel within the next couple of weeks, so please keep an eye out!

Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with this fic to the very end. It feels quite surreal to actually be finishing the first leg of this little series a little more than a year and a half after uploading the first chapter. I'm incredibly grateful and touched by all who have taken this journey with me.

I'd like to give an especially huge thank you everyone who has reached out through reviews and messages, and to Margot11, whose delightful Harry-in-Slytherin stories were the inspiration for me to try my own take on the 'genre'. I must have read her 'A Learning Experience' trilogy all the way through at least four times during lockdown, and likely will again soon. I recommend you do the same.

Until next time!