DECEMBER 25th
Harry woke up from yet another bad dream with a gasp. Damn it! Couldn't he have one single night of undisturbed sleep? He idly wondered how hard it could be to brew a Dreamless Sleep Potion.
It was dark, but Harry had a feeling that it was nearer to the morning than to midnight. He took his glasses from the bedside table and his wand from the same place. He cast Lumos and found it was a few minutes shy of five a.m. He decided that trying to get back to sleep was useless. He got up, put on his new trainers – he really liked them! - and noiselessly tiptoed to the kitchen, glad that the stairs didn't make any sounds.
He easily navigated through the darkness of the living room to the kitchen. He didn't bother to turn on a light, the moon reflecting on the snow behind the window illuminated the room enough for him to see shapes distinctly. He debated with himself whether to make tea, or if he should just grab some juice from the fridge. He shivered even though it wasn't particularly cold in the kitchen and decided for the tea. He took the cattle, filled it with water and put it on the heater. Whilst waiting, he stared out of the window. He noticed the moon was big, and the stars very bright.
Suddenly, something moved.
Harry bent slightly so his face would be nearer to the window, so that he could see what it was running in the garden. Second later, he realised the window actually mirrored something moving behind him, and he swirled. There was a huge shape in the door. Snape.
Damn it.
"Making mischief, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked. Despite the cold words, his voice lacked his usual biting edge.
"Making tea," Harry said firmly.
Snape switched the light on. Harry blinked in the sudden brightness. Snape was clad in pyjamas with some kind of stripes, and he was barefoot. Harry suddenly wondered if this was all real.
"Make me a cup, if you will, then," Snape ordered, and sat at the table.
The water finally started boiling, rescuing Harry. He busied himself with the pot and cups. He had no wish to share tea with Snape at the table, but the unwritten rule was that food and drinks were consumed only in the kitchen and the living room. If Harry took it to the living room, though, Snape would probably follow him just out of spite.
"Don't forget the sugar bowl," Snape reminded him. Harry had the feeling the git was laughing at him. Cheering that he managed to reduce Harry to a House-Elf, probably.
Harry put all the utensils on the table very gently, and went to retrieve milk from the fridge. He decided not to be provoked. For Chris' sake.
He returned with the sugar bowl, and found Snape had already poured himself a cup. Of course, Snape hadn't bothered to fill Harry's. Not as if Harry wanted him to. Seeing common courtesy from Snape could make Harry faint.
Harry prepared his cup, with just a bit of milk, just how he liked it. The hot liquid steamed a bit, and Harry would be happy to just sit and observe the faint stream of vapour vanishing as it rose. If only he was alone. With Snape's looming presence nothing was calming. It was downright irritating.
Harry stared at his cup, willing the liquid to get colder soon. Very soon, please! Why hadn't he just poured himself the juice, he lamented inwardly.
"Nightmares again?" Snape inquired. He was talking very quietly; in the silence of the house his voice was perfectly clear.
None of your business.
"If they plague you too often, you should consult Madam Pomfrey," Snape continued when any response wasn't coming.
Leave me alone!
Harry tried to sip his tea, but of course it was still too hot. Maybe I should add some more milk?
"Or ask me for a dose of a Dreamless Sleep Potion," Snape added, seemingly as an afterthought.
Harry resolutely shook his head. He wouldn't ask Snape for anything. Ever. Again. He had asked Snape to save Sirius. In vain.
Snape pursued his lips. "Always- " Then he stopped himself.
Always so arrogant, just like your father, blah blah blah, Harry easily supplied the rest of the sentence. Same old, same old.
"That tea hasn't gotten any colder in the last two seconds, Potter," Snape snapped at him irritably, his voice still only above a whisper. He took a deep breath. Calm again Snape ordered, "List the spells you want to try with Andrei."
"The stinging spell," Harry reminded Snape of the one he had mentioned in the evening. "Then, the Scottish Blinding spell, Illusionist's Trick, Otto', Grette', and Hanus' Disarming spells." According to the book Otto, Grette, and Hanus were triplets who were completely inseparable, and after Hogwarts they all apprenticed as spell crafters. Many times they invented three different spells with the same or similar results. Harry thought that Expeliarmus was a nifty spell, but there was strength in variety. Not as if he bothered to explain all this to Snape. He named two more spells.
"That's acceptable." Snape informed him.
Harry's eyes shifted up at the Potions Master for the first time this morning. Snape didn't object to one single spell Harry had chosen?
"You will need adult supervision, though," Snape added. Harry wondered if he really saw a hint of smirk in his face.
"I thought I would ask Chris," Harry said truthfully.
"My wife will be spending the morning in the orphanage," Snape informed him smugly. "Thus you will have to bear with me."
Oh, bother! Harry couldn't step back and call the whole thing off without losing face. He drunk his damned tea, and excused himself, fleeing to his room. This definitely wasn't a good morning.
Harry laid back into his bed, lighting the bedside lamp, and reread all the parts of the book concerning the spells he had listed to Snape. He didn't want the foul man to catch him at any mistake. Snape would find something to berate Harry about. No need to hand him ammunition.
Xxx
"The most important thing on casting the Illusionist's Trick is the movement of the hand and the wave of the wand. And intention, of course. The spell is supposed to be one of the easiest that can be mastered nonverbally. According to the book, that is." Harry furrowed a brow. They started non-verbal casting this year, but Harry – just like majority of his classmates - hadn't yet been very successful.
He repeated the movement of the wand very slowly again, and tried to ignore Snape lurking from his armchair.
The morning brought heavy wind and soon it started snowing madly. For that, Andy had suggested to Chris that they tried the new spells in the living room, promising they would leave duelling in the garden for better weather.
"Of course, darling," Chris had said, looking a bit harried. She was packing some of the chocolate the Snapes had brewed the previous day, and boxes of fruits and piles of some other food, adding it to the box of toys, and a box of clothes. All along, Sasha and Mark tailed her, begging her relentlessly to take them to the orphanage.
"Fine!" she had said finally, peeved. "If you close your mouth for a few minutes and let me think!"
Harry had to grin, because the babies didn't leave her alone but thanked her profusely and then started pestering her with tales about what they would do with the orphanage kids and what they would tell them.
"For Merlin's sake!" Chris waved her hands exasperatedly. "Go to check on the owls. Now! Shoo, shoo."
Harry grinned at the memory. Soon afterwards, Chris and the babies had left through the Floo. Andy and Harry were joined by the three other boys who decided they could do with a few more spells as well. Snape pushed an armchair farther towards the fireplace, indicating that he was a mere observer here – or so Harry hoped.
Harry started explaining the spells, one at a time, always starting with the name, what it accomplished, wand movements, the required incantation, and its counter spell. Then they tried it. To Harry's relief, he always managed to cast the spell the first time he tried. Andy had the same rate of success. The three other boys sometimes needed more tries before they got it right, but with Harry's help they successfully progressed through the spells as well.
To Harry's astonishment, Snape refrained from uttering sarcastic comments or critique. The man simply watched silently. It made Harry nervous, but he tried his best to ignore the wizard.
Harry decided he liked the three disarming spells the most. They were as handy as Expeliarmus. However, none of the three spells pushed the rival like Expeliarmus did, so in a way they were safer.
Harry remembered his third year when he and his friends had used Expeliarmus on Snape together and knocked him out completely. He could imagine a person might even die after a crash into a wall or something.
On the other hand, Otto's Disarming spell merely summoned the other person's wand. Hanus had topped his triplet, because his spell summoned any weapon the rival carried – the book said sometimes even a sharp quill was summoned. Grette's Disarming spell was in Harry's opinion 'a lady' spell – though he would never dare to say it aloud in front of Hermione. It confused the rival, turning their mood peaceful, disarming them mentally instead of physically. For Harry it was kind of a women's approach, in a positive sort of way, of course. He didn't really get why girls were affronted when you told them they thought or behaved like girls. It was the way it should be, right?
Harry was helping Eduard, who couldn't get a grasp on the Grette's Disarming spell. He again patiently walked him through the movement of the arm and wrist, and the wand motion. He noticed the younger boy looked fatigued. Harry decided to end the study session after this spell, even though originally he had wanted to teach two more.
It took four rounds of explanations and repeated demonstrations, but finally Eda produced the spell, sending Harry into the required, peacefully unfocused, state. After a few seconds, Harry shook his head, getting his focus back. He grinned at Eduard winningly, "That was just it!"
Eda grinned back, and breathed, "Thanks."
"Well," Harry pushed up his glasses, looking at the rest of the boys, "I guess that's enough for now. What about some tea? I'm starving."
His suggestion was met with enthusiasm. Andy clapped his back. Kolya offered to fetch some chocolate. And Pavel went first to put the kettle on. Harry stayed behind, retrieving his book from the coffee table. He decided to put it away in his room before going to the kitchen.
Snape stood. Harry straightened immediately and fought the urge to go for his wand.
Snape only watched him with his inscrutable dark eyes. Harry swallowed. He forcibly relaxed his hand holding the book, as he noticed his knuckles had turned white. He turned around and hurried to his room. When he reached the stairs, he heard, "Potter."
He turned around, slowly, nearly against his will.
"You surprised me." With that, the maddening man headed to the kitchen.
Harry stared after him, not believing his ears. 'You surprised me.' What the hell was that supposed to mean?
He climbed slowly upstairs. There was no point in hurrying anymore – he had no wish what so ever to have tea with Snape. He sat at his bed, and absentmindedly stroked the book that was still in his hand.
Snape had promised – if promised was the right word – to ignore Harry. Instead of ignoring, he kept starting confusing talks. Weird. Weird. Harry so missed Hermione. She would have at least a theory or two on Snape's peculiar behaviour. Suddenly, Harry remembered that The Secreted Secrets, the more practical Occlumency book, mentioned among various other uses of meditation figuring out riddles in the state of deep peacefulness.
Harry lied on his back, and tried to turn all his concentration to the memory of his slow shuffling around the garden, basking in the sun and in the warmth of Chris' warming charm, the unhurried moving of his skis, alone in the garden and seemingly in the whole white world.
He was there. The right state of mind. Contentedly, Harry turned his mind to the Snape mystery. No comments on Harry's gifts for the orphanage, and none on his lack of gifts for the family. Odd dialogs in the oddest hours in the morning. What was Snape doing up, again? Snape's silence during their defence practice. And lastly, his comment about Harry surprising him.
Mmmm. Hmm.
It didn't make sense.
Snape just kept Harry off balance, without apparent reason. And there was always a reason with Snape. Harry couldn't figure it out, but that didn't mean the reason wasn't there. A mean, threatening, shifty reason. Snape was the chief Slytherin - an ultimate Slytherin – and they never did anything the direct way.
Of course!
Harry bolted upright. Of course! Snape had decided that the direct attacks on Harry backfired on him. So because of that, he pretended a truce, and fought under his hand. Keeping Harry off balance, preparing to strike under the belt.
Harry was damned. Whatever the sorting hat might have meant when he was eleven, Harry wasn't a Slytherin. He wasn't sneaky, and he never spotted a sneaky attack in time.
Snape would be turning his family against Harry, he realised, with a hidden barb here and a mean comment there. Snape would do it discreetly enough for his family to never notice they were being manipulated. Soon, Harry would be a pariah here. How did one protect himself against slander?
Harry took a deep breath and released it slowly. He had to think it through calmly.
It was December 25th and they were going back on January 9th. It meant that Harry just had to survive 15 more days here. Snape wouldn't be able to change the minds of the family members immediately, especially as McGonagall was coming the day after tomorrow. Harry guessed that he should be okay at least till the end of the year. He might be in for tough days in January, though. He imagined Andy turning his back on him, the Middles shaking their heads in disgust, Chris' eyes full of disappointment, and the babies' little faces scrunched in bemused disbelief of how bad can people be…
Enough!
Harry pursed his lips. He may not be able to fight Snape, the sneaky snake, but he was able to fight and direct his thoughts. And his thoughts wouldn't be wasted on Snape!
Harry took his old sneakers out of his trunk, opened the Tidy Household by Tilda Cleansweaper on the page on cleaning shoes spells, prepared his wand, and got to practising. He was going to be hated here, as he had been hated at the Dursleys. No matter. Harry swore to himself it was the very last time. In the summer, he would be with someone who liked him, or otherwise on his own, even if it killed him.
With that calming thought, he attacked the dirt on his old shoe with vigour.
The knock sounded just when Harry was inspecting his sneaker. It was indeed clean now, though it looked rather worse for wear. Harry tried to determine which holes had already been there and which he had added now.
It was Andy.
"Hi." He stuck his dark-haired head into the room.
"Come in," Harry invited. Then he remembered he shouldn't take anything for granted anymore. "If you want, that is."
"The weather's got better, so Dad and brothers are going to a ski trip. I came to ask you if I should stay?" Andy asked.
Harry thought for a second. Andy seemed honest, and willing to stay for Harry. He had a feeling, though, that Andy would prefer to go to the trip.
"I'm good," he assured Andy. "Go for the ride. I'll be reading and practising spells and charms." He motioned with his chin to the sneaker he was holding.
"Alright, then," Andy agreed. "We'll be back around 3 o'clock, I think, 4 at the latest. Mum should be back by then too. Find yourself some lunch, will you?"
"Sure." Harry nodded.
Andy hesitated. "I feel like we are neglecting you."
Harry laughed. "What am I? A toddler?" He snickered. It was by far the silliest thing he had heard from Andy.
"Our guest," Andy said frowning. "We are supposed- "
"Save that for McGonagall," Harry cut him off. "I'm used to being on my own."
"Okay," Andy agreed, but his face, for some reason, turned even more serious. He seemed on the verge of saying something. He changed his mind, thought, and left with a parting nod.
"See you," Harry called after him, and then turned his mind back to household charms. He imagined Hermione would be impressed with him next summer.
After a quarter of an hour, Harry decided the Snapes should be out already, and he went to find something to eat. It was a bit early for lunch, but Harry hadn't lied when he said he was hungry – even if it hadn't been the reason for their session to end.
xxx
To Harry's relief, the first voices he heard that afternoon belonged to Sasha and Mark. Harry was in the safety of his room, reading through his Charms homework. His eyes flew to the clock on the wall. To his astonishment it was after 2 o'clock, already. He got up swiftly and hurried downstairs.
"Hi, Harry," chorused the babies. Chris joined their greetings.
Harry thought she looked tired. Maybe he could try to baby-sit the small twins again?
"Hi," he answered, and informed them, "Snape and everyone else went on a ski trip." Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought Chris' face fell a little.
"Dad's gone?" Mark pouted.
"We wanted to play with him," Sasha joined his twin in the sulk. They wore t-shirts with their names on it. It was nifty for telling them apart. Pity they didn't wear it all the time.
"I thought maybe you could show me some wizarding toys?" Harry suggested. "I was raised a Muggle, so I never had any. If it's okay?" He looked at Chris, who smiled at him and nodded.
"Sure!" Mark enthused and took Harry by the hand. "We'll show you our new magical building blocks!"
"Or the racing slugs!" Sasha suggested.
"Or the Hogwarts Express!" Mark countered immediately, his voice raised. Harry noticed that Chris pressed her forefingers to her temples.
"Or our Legos!" Sasha shouted excitedly. Chris vanished into the kitchen.
"He knows Legos, silly, it's Muggle," Mark objected, and Harry didn't bother to correct him. Of course Dudley had never let Harry to even glance at his precious Legos.
"Alright, we can battle with our dragons and wizards army!" Sasha took his brother's critique in stride.
"Or play magic memory game! I always win that!" Mark boasted, jumping up and down in excitement.
"Or Merlin's Treasure Hunt!" Sasha all but screamed, waving his arms wildly.
"Alright," Harry laughed. He decided the boys were on a serious sugar-high trip. He motioned towards the stairs, "Lead on, it all sounds fun. Maybe we shouldn't battle, so we wouldn't scare your owlet."
"We'll fight on the other side of the room," Sasha waved the problem away.
"But we need to find the best name for the owlet, too," Mark remembered. "Maybe we should do it first."
"Maybe a name will just come out during the games," Harry suggested.
"Okay! Yeah!" The babies exclaimed at the same time. They run to their room to check on the birds.
"How cute is he! Cutest ever," Mark cooed. "He looks smart."
"He's gonna be the fastest owl ever," Sasha scratched the owlet's head gently and then he petted the adult owl who was on the watch over the fluffy owl baby. "We could name it Wind."
"Or Storm!"
"Racket!"
"I don't like Racket." Mark frowned.
"What about Pinocchio? Look at his beak!"
"Or just name it Owl, like in Winnie the Pooh cartoons."
"Or Dragon!"
"Smart Wings!"
"Or Merlin!"
"Lancelot!"
"Hercules!"
Harry looked from one to the other and thought that this is how people watched tennis matches.
"Hero!"
"Ilya Muromets!"
Then the boys fluently switched to Russian, each offering a few Russian names – or so Harry thought - and then they started arguing. They were shouting more and more loudly. Harry was afraid Chris would come to tell them off, blaming Harry for this shouting match that was swiftly progressing towards a fight.
Harry clapped his hands loudly, and ordered, "Enough!"
The babies looked at him, surprised. Apparently they had forgotten all about his presence.
"I came here to play," Harry gave them a disappointed stare – he had been on the receiving end of so many of those, that it wasn't a problem to emulate one. "Not to watch you fighting."
"Sorry," the babies mumbled.
"It's alright," Harry assured them. "Okay, we have a big list of fun things we want to do, so let's start with the new building blocks, alright? What do they look like? Can we build a castle and use it for wizards and dragons later?"
Harry totally loved wizarding toys. And Legos. He lost himself in playing with the small boys and totally forgot the time.
He was just lying on his stomach on the carpet, trying to protect his Lego castle with one Hungarian Horntail flying around it and five wizards on the walls against the advancing twins' army consisting of ten wizards and three dragons, when someone cleared their throat loudly. Harry turned towards the door, and blanched. It was Snape.
His short negligence became his downfall. The twins destroyed his fortress with a winning shout, sending his magical figures crashing down.
Snape snorted. "Constant vigilance, Potter!"
Harry thought the git was enjoying it more than strictly necessary.
"Dad!" The babies greeted him exuberantly, jumping at him both at the same time.
Harry stood up quickly, and took his fallen figurines to put them back on the shelf where they belonged. Then he took two more turns with the rest of the dragons and wizards. He took the Lego box and started swiftly throwing the pieces in. They had made some serious mess, and Harry wouldn't wait for Snape to berate him for it.
Snape had no time to spare, fortunately, as Sasha was describing the battle over the magic blocks castle where Harry was the attacker and the babies were the protectors. At the same time Mark talked about the battle the Snape had seen the end of. Each boy was trying to talk louder than the other one, so their father heard his story. Harry gleefully thought Snape must be half deaf from their shouting.
"Boys, boys," Snape laughed. Laughed!
Harry could see in his peripheral vision that Snape put the twins down. "One after another. Mark, you start."
Harry was finished with Legos before Mark narrated their battle, and he moved to pick up the magical building block. He was swiftly filling the corresponding box with the pieces, listening idly to Sasha replacing his brother and babbling about the dragons and wizards. Soon, the floor was nearly empty, with the exception of a few small balls, and other few miscellaneous toys - they had been experimenting with implementing new 'weapons' into the battling.
Snape gently interrupted Sasha with, "You should help Harry with cleaning your room. He's not a House-elf after all."
Harry gritted his teeth. He was sure the small boys couldn't recognise the mocking in their father's voice. Of course he would send them to help now when there was near to nothing to tidy up. There was no winning with the foul man.
Be calm, be calm, be calm, he repeated to himself. He would keep his temper. He wasn't stupid. Snape wanted him to argue, to talk back, to rage. To lose his good reputation.
Harry put the rest of the toys back into a huge box containing a mixture of various kinds of toys, before the twins even started helping him. He smiled at the babies, "See you, guys."
He moved carefully around Snape in the door, nodding at the man with a carefully neutral face, "Sir."
"Dinner in ten minutes, Mr Potter." Snape called after him. His voice didn't betray any disappointment that Harry hadn't reacted to his provoking. Snape certainly could play this game, Harry thought glumly.
He changed the directions and instead of to his room, he headed to a bathroom. Thanks to that, he could hear one of the babies ask his father. "Daddy, why do you call Harry 'Mr Potter'?"
"Because he's my student."
"So, if I were your student you would call me Mr Dworkin? And how would I know you called me and not Mark, Andy, or the others?"
"Thank Merlin, we only have one Potter at Hogwarts," Snape answered with granting reverence.
It was the very last sentence Harry heard before he closed the door very firmly behind him.
Xxx
During dinner, Harry kept his head down. He was waiting for a sneak verbal attack from Snape. He even couldn't enjoy the shepherd's pie properly, his nerves didn't let him.
So far, Kolya and Pavel were talking about the ski trip.
"You were back much later than I would have thought," Chris commented. "It had been dark for more than an hour."
"Our time management was poor," Snape admitted. "We were lucky the weather hasn't changed."
"We could have always apparated home," Andy pointed out. Then, after a thought, he added. "It must be bad for Muggles, the uncertainty."
"They are used to it," Pavel shrugged carelessly. "Pass the dill pickles, please, Dad."
"Well, plan better tomorrow," Chris ordered. "Then beneficiary banquet starts at seven, so we have to start dinner at half past five at the very latest."
Snape heaved a loud sigh. The babies giggled, the middles snorted, and the firsties laughed.
"Oh, be silent, you," Snape mock warned, "or we will take you along."
His warning brought a new round of giggling and snorts.
"I'm sure you will survive, darling," Chris pacified her husband with amusement. Then she changed the topic, "and what about your morning defence session, boys?"
"It was fun," Kolya answered.
"We mastered the Scottish Blinding spell, the Illusionist's Trick, and three disarming spells," Andy elaborated.
"What a feast," Chris said approvingly.
"What's the Illusionist's Trick?" Sasha inquired enthusiastically. "It sounds fun! I can't wait to learn magic too!"
There was a short silence. Later, Harry guessed that everybody expected someone else to explain it. Harry, personally, had thought the question was directed at Chris. She was the teacher here, after all.
"Potter!" Snape ordered, "Explain."
Harry's head shot up. Why him?
He looked at Chris hopefully. Maybe she would explain it. Unfortunately, she only nodded at him, encouraging him.
Harry looked at Sasha, thinking about an explanation simple enough for a small boy to grasp. He decided to help himself with a practical example. "Excuse me," he apologised to Chris, standing up, and moving behind his chair.
"Er, you create an illusion of yourself," he told to Sasha, and flicked his wand, saying the corresponding incantation. "The illusion is visible, while you turn invisible – that means nobody can see you. And then you can move without being spotted. The illusion stays on the place where you had said the incantation."
"Whilst you move and surprise you opponent from a different direction," Harry finished. By this time, he was standing right behind Sasha.
With a whispered 'finite' he reappeared and the illusion vanished.
Sasha was looking around, and finally spotted Harry behind his shoulder. "That's neat!" he enthused.
"The illusion wasn't moving," Mark said thoughtfully. "But your voice was."
"Well spotted," Harry praised the boy. He was genuinely surprised Mark would notice. "It would be definitely better if I didn't talk while disillusioned."
He sat back and took his cutlery. He added, "Also, I need to work on casting it non-verbally - that's without saying it aloud," he added to be sure the babies were following him. "As I said it aloud, the opponent would knew immediately I was there hidden somewhere."
"Ever considered becoming a teacher, Harry?" Chris asked him.
Harry flushed. He realised he must have appeared to be a complete show-off to the family.
"Well, I-" he stammered.
"Potter showed interest in leading illegal school groups," Snape smirked.
Harry sighed. Andy laughed. Someone – Eduard – Harry thought, whistled and laughed. The babies giggled. Harry wondered if they even knew what 'illegal' meant.
"Care to explain?" Andy asked Harry with amused curiosity.
"Not really," Harry answered uncomfortably, and glanced at Chris sideways. He hoped she wasn't too upset. He busied himself with his dinner, hoping everyone would forget again that he was there.
"Dad?" Andy turned to his father for answer. Harry felt like groaning. Why he couldn't let go?
"Mr Potter decided that the Defence lessons were subpar and took it upon himself to rectify the situation," Snape was all too happy to inform his family.
"What's 'subpar'?"
"Lower than standard. Bad quality. Disappointing," Kolya tried three times before the small boys grasped the meaning.¨
Harry had been decided on refusing to rise to Snape's barbs, but now he reconsidered. He had made mistakes, a lot of them, for sure, but he couldn't be faulted on this one. "She had us read a book on theory all year round, without any practise," he explained indignantly. "She said we wouldn't need to protect ourselves because we were safe at the school."
"That sounds rather irresponsible." Chris sounded scandalised. "Severus?"
Harry guessed Chris was asking Snape if Harry was lying, going subtle about it.
"I'm afraid the teacher was remarkably useless this year," Snape admitted. "The Ministry forced her on Albus rather uncompromisingly."
"The Ministry of Magic in Great Britain is in a strong need of massive change," Chris frowned angrily.
"The massive change that we fear is about to happen is not of the kind we would prefer," Snape informed her gravely.
Harry mulled over the words for a minute before it started making any sense. Then with a gasp he realised what Snape was implying. "Is Volde- "
He was cut short by Chris. "Don't say his name!" she objected sharply.
Harry sat back, stunned. What had he done to have his head bitten off?
"It's not safe," she added in a milder tone, noting Harry's reaction.
"Why?" he asked, baffled. What could possibly be unsafe in using a name? Soon, he found he had still lots to learn about magic.
"Don't argue with your hostess, Potter," Snape reprimanded. "It's unbecoming."
Harry glared at him. "I'm not."
He turned to Chris, "Really. I just want to know why it's unsafe. Dumbledore said fearing You-Know-Who's name," he grimaced at the stupid moniker, "just gives him more power over us."
"He had his name jinxed. Each time someone pronounced it aloud, his followers apparated in on the tracking spell imbedded in the jinx, and struck the witches or wizards they found."
"Even those who didn't say the name?" Andy asked, horrified. Harry was glad he wasn't the only one uninformed. He certainly felt like an ignorant way too often here.
"Everyone," Chris said sadly, glancing at the babies. Without spelling it out, everyone over five understood the implication. Chris continued, "He's getting stronger again, and it's entirely possible that he activated the jinx again. Saying it aloud, you should be prepared to fend off an attack."
"It might be useful for creating traps for the Death-eaters," Harry mused pensively.
"There will be no traps here!" Snape informed him in a voice that promised immediate and painful death.
"Of course not!" Harry agreed quickly.
"Curb your Gryffindorish impulsiveness or I'll do it for you!" Snape snapped at him nastily enough for Mark to start sniffling.
"I would never- " Harry started hotly. Then he trailed off and shook his head. There was no way he would change Snape's mind. The man was ignoring him anyway, he was currently placing Mark on his lap and calming him.
Harry sighed silently, and stood up. "Thank you for dinner," he told Chris. He hoped she wouldn't be offended that he left nearly half of the food on his plate. He just wanted to get away from Snape.
Chris just smiled at him.
Harry noticed she still looked tired, and he felt incredibly guilty. "Sorry," he mumbled, and fled to his room.
How could everything go so downhill so quickly? he thought morosely. Everything was fine until Snape mentioned Dumbledore's Army. Harry should have stayed silent. He hadn't and Snape had managed to twist his words so that it appeared that Harry wanted to invite the Death Eaters here. As if he was as stupid as that.
Score: Snape 1, Harry 0. Harry grimaced and flopped on his bed. Which book to study now? It seemed that Harry would manage to read through each book twice before the end of the holiday.
He decided for Foreign Curses & Hexes Fitting in English Hand. It was interesting enough to hope it would engulf him and help him to forget where he was dwelling.
A nock on his door sounded, and predictably it was Andy who poked his head in. "Dad's going to take us to a theatre to see a James Bond movie. If you want to come? Oh, and Mum asks if you are hungry."
"No to both, thanks," Harry answered, fingering the book in his lap.
"It should be fun, about fighting and espionage," Andy informed him needlessly. It wasn't as if Harry never heard about James Bond.
"No, thanks," Harry said with finality.
Andy seemed troubled. "If you are not sleeping when we get back, I'll tell you about it," he promised.
Harry nodded, and looked at the clock's. It was nearly 8 p.m. He doubted he would be awake when Andy got back.
Behind the closed door, Harry heard someone speaking quietly, and then Andy's louder 'No.' Then there sounded an even louder annoyed 'For God's sake!' in Snape's voice.
The door burst open. At the same time Harry shot up from his bed and raised his wand.
"Stop playing martyr!" Snape ordered, stepping into the room. Seeing the wand in Harry's hand pointed his way, he raised an eyebrow.
Go away, jerk! Harry was willing him silently, without moving his wand an inch.
"I might have over-reacted at dinner. Now stop playing a victim and come to the theatre," Snape bit out, not looking apologetic in the slightest.
Harry shook his head mutely. He would sooner accompanied Dementors to a movie than Snape.
"As you wish," Snape said in disinterested voice, and left.
Harry swallowed, and put his wand to his night-table. He noticed his hand was shaking slightly.
He flopped on his bed. He hated Snape! Hated him!
And he hated Dumbledore nearly as much as Snape. Why the hell he sent him in here, to share Christmas with a man who had detested his guts before he even met Harry? Why had he forced him on the Dursleys and never bothered to check on him during nearly ten years? Why was Dumbledore sending him back for the holidays when Harry all but spelled out for him that they were horrid to him? Why did Dumbledore never step in and fight for him when the Daily Prophet slandered Harry, and whole school treated him like a pariah? Why didn't Dumbledore support him when the Ministry, through Umbridge, had made his life so miserable?
It was as if Dumbledore purposefully made Harry's life miserable!
Dumbledore and the Ministry. Something was nagging Harry's brain. What was it? The thought was there, but somehow out of reach, eluding Harry. He frowned. Maybe he should calm his mind again and meditate.
He closed his eyes, but before he managed to do anything else, the sound of stampeding hippogriffs and pounding on his door interrupted him.
"Yes?" he called.
Sasha and Mark waltzed into his room, speaking simultaneously.
"Come to watch a movie with us!"
"Movie and popcorn, come on, hurry!"
Harry grinned at them, and followed them downstairs.
Chris came to the living from the opposite side, levitating a TV and a recorder.
As if someone lighted a bulb, Harry suddenly remembered. Dumbledore, when he had forced Harry on Chris, claimed that Harry couldn't stay at school, because the Ministry wanted something with Harry.
"Do you know what Dumbledore meant about the Ministry?" he blurted. "Er-…"
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. Then she shook her head, "I could only guess. Maybe Minerva will have your answer."
"And what would you guess?" Harry persisted. He'd come to value Chris' opinions somehow.
"If- and I mean if," she emphasized, "if your relatives are in a hospital or-" she hesitated, "for some other reason unable to be your guardians, even temporarily, then someone through the Ministry might want to take the guardianship over you."
"And deliver me to You-Know-Who," Harry realised.
Chris gave a wary glance to the babies. Fortunately, they paid their conversation no mind.
All the same, Harry felt chagrined. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Chris installed the electronics the Muggle way – well, there probably weren't any spells for that. She put a cassette in the recorder, and then with a wave of her wand dimmed the lights a bit.
"I will bring the pop-corn," Chris announced and vanished in the kitchen.
Harry would love to follow her, and ask more about the Ministry, and also about the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix – another thing he had all but forgotten about since Dumbledore dumped him here. However, he felt he was trying Chris' patience today, and so he let it be.
He lowered himself on the couch opposite the TV. The commercial and copyrights warnings rolled on. Harry asked. "So, what are we watching?"
"The Lion King," the babies answered in one voice, and they perched at Harry's sides.
It was surprisingly snugly, to be sandwiched between them. Harry relaxed, and decided that a kids' movie with cute animals and a happy end was exactly what he needed.
"You are going to hold the popcorn box," Mark informed him.
"Ssshhs!" Sasha silenced him. "It's starting."