Where Do I Go From Here?

by The Ivory Raven

After a difficult summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts and keeps his homelife a secret. But the new DADA professor leaves him with an even bigger secret to hide. How will he cope, and what does Snape have to do with it all? Warning:abuse, cutting, depression

13. Hands On Experience

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character's except Stroper, dang it!

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Where Do I Go From Here?

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Chap. 13 Hands-on Experience

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Running the whole way, Harry finally made it to his DADA class just as Professor Stroper opened to doors to allow the students to enter. Still panting, Harry slid through the throng of students as they made their way inside, and looked around the classroom for Ron or Hermione. Spotting his friends near the front, Harry hurried forward, hoping no one would take the empty seat next to Ron, but it appeared he needn't worry after all, for Ron was saving it for him.

"Oi! This seat's taken; Go sit somewhere else."

Annoyed, Parvarti went to one of the empty seats a couple of rows back, casting a light glare in Ron's direction, which he steadfastly ignored. Harry directed an apologetic look in Parvarti's direction before settling into the seat.

"What took you so long, Harry?"

Hermione leaned forward in her seat, also eager to hear the answer to Ron's question, and Harry quickly tried to think of something to say that would not raise any more suspicions with his friends. He didn't want to tell them why Snape wanted him to stay after class because that would garner a thousand more questions, and he certainly couldn't tell them about stopping on the way to throw up in the bathroom.

Luckily, he was saved from having to answer when Stroper addressed the class.

"Settle down, now, settle down. We'll be picking up today where we left off last class. Now, who remembers the three basic types of shielding spells?"

Harry was surprised when a dozen hands shot into the air, mostly Gryffindors he mused. He had assumed Hermione would be the only one interested in answering questions in class as per the norm, but apparently, Stroper's last lesson must have really had an effect on the students if this many were so eager to respond.

Stroper pointed towards the back and said with a pleased look that was almost a smile, "Alright, Finnegan, let's hear it."

"Reflective, deflective, and absorptive, Sir."

"Correct, Mr. Finnegan, but which of those three can be unpredictable at times?"

Seamus was silent, obviously not knowing the answer, and Harry saw most of the hands that were up only moments before slowly lower. But of course, Hermione's stayed unwavering in place, and Stroper called on her next for the answer.

"Deflective, Sir. While reflective shields bounce a spell back towards the caster, deflective shields merely bounce the spell in any random direction, making it hard to accurately judge where the spell may land. The only exception is when the deflective shield is altered during casting with a directional limitation."

"Correct, Ms. Granger; and fifteen points to Gryffindor for a well researched answer."

Harry sat in confused silence, wondering just how much he had missed during his skipped classes. He pulled his Defense book out of his bag and flipped through the first few pages as Professor Stroper announced, "Today, we'll be going over the ways in which a deflective spell can be altered. So, turn to page 38 and read to page 42, then we'll be practicing wand movements."

The room was filled with the sound of shuffling pages and excited chatter until Stroper reprimanded the class to be quiet, and the noise died off as everyone immersed themselves in their reading assignment. Harry's eyes strayed from the page he was reading to look up as Stroper passed his desk. The professor was pacing back and forth by the front row of desks as he watched the class read, and Harry could have swore the man had been staring at him a moment ago. But as he swept by his desk again, he didn't look Harry's way even once and Harry decided he must have been imaging things.

As the students finished their reading one by one, the noise level began to rise again until Stroper spoke up.

"Books away, wands out! Time to put your new knowledge to practical use. I want everyone to practice the wand motions for a basic deflective shield as described in your text."

There was a scraping of chair legs against stone as the students rose from their seats to take up a defensive stance. Harry looked around for a few moments before also slowly rising from his seat. After almost getting hit by Ron during one of his more enthusiastic swings of his wand, Harry stepped to the side, preferring to stand half-way in the aisle rather than risk getting wacked again.

As the students practiced their wand movements, pausing now and then to check their books to be sure they were doing it properly, Stroper abandoned his pacing in the front of the room in preference to pacing up and down each aisle, correcting a person's stance or grip every few steps.

As he made his way from the back of the room towards the front, Harry noticed the man getting closer and closer to where he stood, and he quickly checked his book to be sure he was doing the wand practice correctly. Seconds later, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck go up and he had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. Throwing a wary glance over his shoulder, he was surprised to see how close Professor Stroper was standing.

Before Harry had the time to ponder how the man had gotten so close without him realizing it, Stroper bit out, "Eyes front. You shouldn't allow yourself to be distracted during spell casting. Focus as you would if you were in battle, Mr. Potter."

Harry trained his eyes to the blackboard in the front of the room and swung his wand in the gentle arch as directed in the book, but he nearly jumped when, a moment later, a hand settled on his shoulder. He knew it was Stroper, but he hadn't a clue what the man was doing. The hand slid down Harry's arm until the man had gripped Harry's wrist in a strong hold. By this point, Harry had nervously ceased all movement.

Stroper's body was close enough against his own, that Harry could feel the heat radiating off him, and the man spoke gruffly into Harry's ear, "Straighten your wrist. You must hold the wand perfectly straight as you cast, or your shield won't be as strong."

And just like that, the man was gone again, off to inspect other students' wand work. Glancing around, it appeared as if no one had noticed the recent interaction between Harry and Stroper, so, Harry continued practicing just as the rest of the class was doing, but from the corner of his eye, he watched his new professor. Yes, he was correcting other students as well, but not once that Harry could tell did the man sidle up as closely to one of them as he had to Harry.

The rest of the class went smoothly after that, and Harry was thankful that after the wand practice, Stroper had followed up with a lecture rather than any more practice. As class ended, and everyone was busy getting their things packed into their bags, Stroper made his way through the throng of students making their way out the door and whispered into Harry's ear, "Don't forget your extra Defense training, Harry. I expect you back in half an hour. Don't be late."

Harry nervously nodded his understanding and hurried up the aisle where Ron and Hermione were waiting on him. The three had made their way down the corridor and around a corner, leaving their classmates behind, before Hermione broke the silence.

"We tried to visit you last night, but you weren't in the infirmary."

"Uh, yeah…" Harry trailed off, not certain how much information he wanted to share with his friends; but Hermione was nothing if not persistent.

"Where were you?"

Harry was silent for a few moments and Ron asked, "You're allowed to tell us aren't you? I mean, Dumbledore didn't tell you not to, did he?"

Surprised at the turn the conversation was taking, Harry stammered out, "Oh, no, nothing like that. I was just moved, that's all."

"Why," Hermione earnestly asked, "Were you not safe there?"

Safe from everyone but myself, Harry morosely thought, but then spoke up, his voice barely more than a whisper, "Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey decided I'd be better off if I stayed with one of the professors."

"Oh," Hermione's interest was obviously peaked, "Which one, Harry?"

Harry couldn't bear to tell his friends that he was stuck with their hated Potions Professor, so he remained silent, refusing to make eye contact as they made their way down a set of stairs. His silence, however, seemed to speak louder than words, for Ron piped up just then.

"Oh Gods, Harry, it's not Snape is it?!" The incredulity in his voice was evident, and when Harry refused to answer, it only confirmed the statement and Ron came to a complete stop as he stared at his best friend with a mixed look of horror and disbelief.

Harry finally came to a stop as well and looked up at his friends. In a moment of bravery, he quickly said what he needed to say before he lost his nerve. "Look, there are a few things I should probably tell you both."

Ron and Hermione both nodded and Harry glanced to his left and right before saying, "Just not here, Okay? Let's find somewhere more private."

Soon, the trio had made their way to an abandoned classroom and slipped inside. Hermione cast a few wards to insure that they would not be overheard or interrupted and they seated themselves in a few of the old dust-covered chairs that were sitting in a corner of the room.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry nervously began, "I don't know how much you know about why I was in the infirmary to begin with, but I know you've both noticed I've not been eating as much as I usually do…"

As so it spilled forth. Harry told his friends about some of the things that had happened that summer, keeping the more brutal happenings to himself. He told them about how the forced starvation while at his relatives now made it hard for him to eat without feeling sick. He told them how he was now staying with Professor Snape. He told them many of those small details that he didn't mind sharing with them, but he resolutely refused to utter a single word about his problem with cutting himself. There were some things he was certain he would never feel comfortable talking with them about.

By the time Harry was done speaking to his friends, he realized with a start that his half-hour must have been up a long time ago and he rushed from the room, waving good-bye to Ron and Hermione as he slipped out the door. Hurrying back up the way he had come, Harry cast Tempus and found out he was fifteen minutes late. Skidding to a stop just outside of the Defense classroom, Harry fought to regain control of his quickened breathing before entering. After taking one last gulp of air, Harry slipped into the room, silently praying to himself that Stroper would not notice how late he was, but all hope of that happening was dashed to pieces as the man looked up from where he was seated at his desk and said, "You are late, Mr. Potter."

Stroper stood and fixed Harry with a hard stare and said, "I do not tolerate tardiness. I will forgive your lack of punctuality since this is your first day of training, but see to it that it doesn't happen again."

"Yes, Sir." Harry let out a sigh of relief that he wasn't being punished for his oversight, and he made his way to the front of the classroom, dropping his bag atop one of the desks in the front row. As he was about to sit down, Stroper stopped him with a reprimand.

"Not so fast there, Harry. You'll be sitting up here with me for your extra lessons."

As Harry scooped his bag back up and cautiously made his way to Stroper's desk, the man further explained. "I find it too impersonal to teach some one who is sitting that far away. Since it'll only be the two of us, we'll be sitting together at my desk."

Professor Stroper than summoned a spare chair from across the room with a silent wave of his wand, and he placed it opposite his own chair, so that Harry would be seated facing him. Harry laid his bag next to the chair and sat down, looking up at Stroper who remained standing, staring down at Harry as if he were some type of interesting specimen.

Suddenly feeling awkward with Stroper's apparent appraisal of him, Harry ducked his head and pretended to rummage about in his bag for his quill, despite the fact that it lay quite easily within reach at the top of his bag. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught Stroper shifting over to his own seat once again, and he pulled his quill from his bag and sat it on the table before him in preparation for the upcoming lesson.

Overall, the lesson proceeded well, and nearing the end of it, Harry found himself quite interested in what Professor Stroper had to say, despite his initial weariness in the beginning. Stroper spent his time teaching Harry what he had missed from the previous class he had skipped, and Harry was excited to try out the new shielding charm.

When Stroper finally decided to allow Harry to practice the incantation, he instructed him to stand alongside the desk and cast the spell. Harry stood from his seat, positioned himself where he had been instructed to stand, and he raised his wand in preparation, but he was interrupted before he could actually say the spell when Stroper came striding around the desk.

"No, no, Harry. Your stance is all wrong. Remember, this type of shield is used to protect you from very strong spells. You must ground yourself in such a way that you won't get knocked over by the force of the spell hitting your barrier."

Harry looked down at his legs and widened his stance before glancing back over his shoulder to where the professor stood appraising his actions with a critical eye. Unfortunately, Harry could hear the man give a disapproving cluck of his tongue before coming closer and saying, "Here, let me show you."

And before Harry had a chance to protest, the man had taken a place directly behind him, and Harry's breath caught in his throat as the man's arms came overtop his own, Stroper's hands closing around Harry's in a warm grip.

"Hold your wand arm higher, while your free hand is drawn back to help counterbalance your weight."

Stroper moved Harry's limbs to the desired angles and then said in a slightly lowered voice. "There, just like that. Now," and with this, Stroper's hands found Harry's hips, "You must keep your weight on your front leg, but keep your back straight." And then the man was pulling Harry's hips towards him, forcing Harry's body against his own.

Harry could feel his back against the man's broad chest, and his face reddened with embarrassment when he felt Stroper's pelvis up against his bum. His voice too shaky to even try to say the incantation now, Harry suddenly found himself overwrought with slight tremors that, after a few moments, caused even his teeth to slightly chatter.

Then, Harry felt Stroper's hot, moist breath whisper into his ear, "Perfect, Harry. Just perfect."

Harry's hips were unexpectedly released a second later as Stroper took a couple steps back, and the next time the man spoke, it was with a normal tone of voice. "That's perfect, Harry. Keep that stance. Now, I want you to try the spell again, only this time, flourish your wand a bit more; it should strengthen the spell."

Hand still slightly trembling, Harry did as he was told, producing a shimmering blue shield that wrapped a third of the way around his body.

"That's excellent, Harry! Job well done!"

But Harry found himself unable to find any pleasure in the praise; his mind was locked within that uncomfortable feeling that occurred when the man had pressed himself against him. Stroper clapped him upon the back and sent him on his way, and Harry left the classroom that afternoon with his thoughts heavy on his mind.

Evening was swiftly approaching, and as Harry made his way down the darkening corridor, he gave little thought to his surroundings, barely catching himself in time to keep from falling off the edge of one of the moving sets of stairs. Taking a different route to bypass that particular set of stairs, Harry's thoughts kept straying back to the recent Defense lesson. Thinking he could still feel Stroper's hands where the man's fingers had held onto his arms and hips, Harry gave a shudder and rubbed his hands over his arms as if he could shake off the uncomfortable feeling.

Minutes later, when he was shakily making his way down the only remaining set of stairs that separated him from his destination, Harry slowed to a stop half-way down, feeling slightly light-headed. Wrapping his arms around himself due to a sudden chill, he started to wonder if it was due to the castle's propensity of drafts that was the culprit, or if it was due to his experience just minutes ago. Before he could think on it much longer, he spotted his friends at the entrance of the Great Hall, apparently waiting on him.

"Hey, Harry, you alright?" Ron had made his way up the stairs to meet him and he grabbed Harry's elbow as if to steady his friend. "You're looking kinda' pale."

"Um, yeah, I'm fine, Ron. It's just been a long day, that's all." Harry pulled his elbow free and went down the few remaining steps, stopping briefly at Hermione's side before walking into the Great Hall, leaving his friends worriedly hurrying after him.

Harry quickly made his way to his usual spot at the Gryffindor table, feeling as if his legs might give out on him at any second. Plopping down in his seat, he gave a sigh of relief as the dizzy feeling started to dissipate and he looked up to watch his friends take their seats as well.

Within minutes, the Great Hall filled with students, and dinner appeared on the table seconds later. Noticing the covert glances he kept getting from his friends, Harry grabbed up a roll and took his time buttering it, keeping his head down so as to avoid making eye contact with anyone sitting around them, hoping that it would be enough to keep anyone from trying to start a conversation with him.

Harry's eyes strayed to the front of the room, watching as Professor Snape took a serving of food from one of the dishes by his plate, but when the man's dark eyes suddenly looked right at him, Harry quickly turned back to his own plate.

Throughout the meal, Ron and Hermione kept up a running dialogue about how delicious everything was in the hopes of getting Harry to eat a bit more, inadvertently wearing his patience thin. Feeling pressured, Harry finally relented and took a serving of steamed carrots upon Hermione's persistence, and he silently ate them as slowly as possible, stabbing them one at a time with his fork as if he were venting the day's frustration on the hapless vegetables.

"So, Harry," Ron began, trying to lighten the mood, "How did your extra study session go?"

Harry finally looked up from his meager meal and saw Ron looking enthusiastically at him, his brow raised and a smile lighting up his face. Harry knew Ron was referring to the class he had with Stroper, and he turned to see that Hermione shared a similar expression as she listened with rapt attention.

Harry wasn't sure what he should say about the class. Yes, he had learned a lot, and yes, Stroper was a good teacher, but what had happened near the end of class was truly weird, and Harry felt creeped out just thinking about it. Had the man purposely pressed on him like that, or was he really just trying to get Harry to stand correctly. Perhaps, Harry thought, I'm looking into this too deeply. Maybe Stroper was just trying to position me correctly.

Harry felt torn about how he should interpret Stroper's actions that day, but he was sure of one thing, despite whatever the man's intentions were, it made Harry very uncomfortable, and he was already starting to dread his next study session. Any further thoughts on the subject were interrupted by a worried feminine voice asking, "Harry?"

Turning back to his friends, he replied, "Sorry, Hermione. The class was very…informative."

Ron sat up a little straighter from where he had bent forward in his eagerness, and said, "I bet you'll be learning loads of new spells!"

Hermione shot him a look and Ron lowered his voice to a whisper, "Sorry, I forgot we had to keep it secret. So, did you learn any new spells?"

"Well, not really. We just worked on the stuff I missed from class."

Harry purposefully withheld the bit about Stroper getting all up close and personal with him, knowing that Hermione would likely try to make a mountain out of a molehill and he did not want her to analyze the situation any more than necessary, especially when he wasn't so sure about it all himself. Trying to change the subject, Harry asked, "So, what have you two been up to while I was in class?"

"Nothing much," Ron replied, reaching out to one of the nearby platters for more food. He put a sausage on his plate and then placed one on Harry's as well, carrying on with the conversation as if he had done nothing out of the usual.

"So, Harry, now that you're feeling better, do you have any idea when you'll get to come back to Gryffindor Tower?" Ron asked in-between bites of food.

The question startled Harry enough that he forgot all about the indignation he felt when Ron decided to put food on his plate without asking. He hadn't even thought up an excuse yet as to why he couldn't return right away. As far as they knew, he was on the mend and should, therefore, be allowed back to his normal place of residence. He fumbled about for an answer, but unable to formulate any kind of a response, he finally gave them a generic, "I don't know."

Ron looked disappointed, but Hermione seemed to take it all in stride, telling Ron how it's never good trying to rush these kinds of things, but after a few seconds, Harry tuned them both out. He had just looked up in time to see Stroper making his way to the Head table from the small side door he had just entered through. What took him so long to make it to dinner, Harry thought.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Up at the Head Table, as Stroper passed behind the other professors on the way to his seat, Snape couldn't help but snidely ask, "Have trouble finding your way down?"

Stroper ignored him and continued on his way, the slight narrowing of his eyes serving as the only sign that he was affected by the comment. Dumbledore shot Snape a disapproving look, but it didn't affect him in the least. As far as he was concerned, if Stroper didn't understand Dumbledore's one simple request that all professors be punctual to meals in order to 'set a good example for the students', then he would not hold back the insults. Honestly, even Potter had been on time, and from the look of things, it wasn't because the boy was hungry either.

Just then, the boy in question happened to look his way and Snape gave him a meaningful stare that got his message across. At that moment, the dour Potions Master almost had the inclination to smile at the way the boy seemed to jump in his seat. He watched as Harry attempted to make it look like he was eating, but even from the distance away at which Snape was sitting, he could tell that the boy was pushing his food about on his plate more than he was actually eating. I'll have to have another talk with that boy, Snape decided, and soon.

The meal proceeded without incident, the professors talking quietly amongst themselves while the students carried on as usual at the other tables. Supper eventually disappeared, dessert taking its place shortly afterwards, and Snape leaned forward in his chair to more properly address Stroper.

"I take it that Potter's training session went well?"

Seeming to temporarily forget Snape's earlier slight against him, Stroper turned in his seat and answered, "It went exceptionally well, I must say. The boy shows great promise. I'm looking forward to seeing how far I can take him."

The comment garnished quite a few odd looks from the other Professors, and Stroper smiled and quickly clarified. "In Defense, of course. The boy could go far with the proper amount of training."

"Well," Flitwick announced from his perch atop a small tower of books that were sitting in his seat, allowing the tiny Professor to sit at a more comfortable height, "I certainly hope he did better in Defense today than he did in Charms. His performance in class today was lacking, to say the least."

Snape listened to the ongoing conversation, adding things to his mental list of things to talk to Potter about. Indeed, there was much to be discussed.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"You know, I'm feeling kinda' tired. I think I'm going to head on to bed now."

Harry pushed his plate away from him and rose from his seat, hoping to sneak out early while Snape was engrossed in conversation at the Head Table.

"But Harry, you haven't even gotten any dessert yet!"

Harry looked over to where Ron was, seeing his friend sitting there with an almost affronted-looking expression on his face. Reiterating his earlier excuse, Harry said, "Ron, I'm tired. I don't feel up to dessert right now. I just want to go to bed; I've had a long day."

"But…," Ron spluttered on, trying to talk despite having a bite of one of several pumpkin pasties in his mouth, "But they have treacle tart; your favorite!"

Ron pointed to a full silver platter and Harry could see from the corner of his eye that several students sitting close-by had turned in their seats to watch the commotion. His cheeks tinged from embarrassment, Harry simply said, "I'll see you later, Ron. Bye, Hermione." And then he was gone, desperate to leave before Snape could realize he was sneaking out. With one last glance to the Head Table from over his shoulder, Harry slipped out through one of the large doors and headed for the dungeon.

It wasn't until he reached the large, framed picture of the old man dressed in green who guards the entrance to Snape's rooms that Harry realized he didn't know Snape's password. He stood for several minutes guessing everything he could think of, from names of potion ingredients to different variations along the theme of 'Gryffindors suck', but still was unable to get the entrance to open.

After a few minutes, he could hear the slight tapping sounds of Snape's dragon hide boots as the man neared the corridor where Harry stood, frustrated and anxious. Snape rounded the corner, showing no surprise whatsoever at the fact that Harry was standing there waiting on him instead of being in the Great Hall with the rest of the students. Knowing that he had been caught in his misdeed, Harry paced a couple of steps back and stayed silent, praying that the phrase 'out of sight, out of mind' would offer him even the slightest bit of aid in avoiding his professor's wrath.

Snape stopped in front of the portrait and softly said, "Mala tempora currunt*."

There was a barely audible click, followed by the groan of stone moving against stone as a section of the wall slid to the side to reveal the dark, wooden door to Snape's rooms. Harry quietly followed him in and headed straight for his room, hoping to make it there before he could get reprimanded; however, he stopped in his tracks as Snape began to speak, the professor's back to Harry as the man walked over towards the fireplace to sit in the armchair there.

"Have a seat, Potter."

With a groan born of both irritation and reluctance, Harry trudged over to the armchair opposite Snape's and let his school bag slide from where he had the strap flung over his shoulder. It hit the floor louder than he intended and he cringed slightly, thinking that Snape would yell at him for making noise, but the dark clothed man said nothing to that effect.

Slouching down into the seat, Harry couldn't help but feel momentarily relieved to finally be off his feet. It truly had been a long day for him and his body ached from both the stress and the exercise of navigating through the school despite his body's weakened condition. With a sigh, he let his body relax slightly and sink further into the chair's cushions.

"You left the Great Hall early."

Harry jerked back into wakefulness at the sound of his professor's voice, unaware he had been dozing off a moment before. Harry looked over to where Snape sat regarding him with a critical eye. Harry took a breath to try to come up with some kind of an excuse for his early departure from supper, but before he could utter a word, Snape spoke up again.

"You look dead on your feet, Potter."

Knowing better than trying to deny the obvious, Harry gave a small affirmative nod of his head and tried to cover up the yawn that suddenly tried to escape. Tiredly blinking his eyes, Harry looked up again and saw that Snape was out of his chair and striding over to him, his arm outstretched. Thinking the man was about to hit him, Harry practically leaped from his chair and got behind it, his fingers digging into the fabric on it's back.

Snape had come to an immediate stop, his arm still hovering in the air, and his face belying his exasperation at Harry's behavior.

"Your face is flushed. I was merely checking to see if you are running a fever."

Slowly, Harry relaxed his grip, but he didn't move from his spot behind the chair.

"I'm fine, Sir. I'm just tired."

"I'm sure you think you're fine, Potter, but I would like to ascertain your condition regardless."

He then started forward again, and this time, Harry held his ground, allowing the man to approach and put one of his cold, potion-stained hands against his forehead. As Snape lowered his hand, he said, "You are a little warm, but not enough to be overly concerned about. You know, purposely starving yourself is hardly conductive to a good recovery."

Harry immediately took a couple steps back and stammered out, "I-I'm not starving myself!"

Snape raised an eyebrow, conveying with a single expression exactly how much truth he thought was behind those words as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You spent more time mutilating your food than you did eating it, Potter."

"I ate enough!" Harry retorted, starting to get angry that Snape was so closely scrutinizing his eating habits.

"Do forgive me if I fail to believe you," Snape snidely bit out, clearly not buying a word the boy was saying. Then, stopping long enough to take a deep breath in an effort to calm his ever-present temper, he continued, "Go sit at the table; I'm having a house elf bring a plate of food, and you will be eating it." He then made his way across the room to his own bedroom and disappeared within it, leaving an absolutely fuming Harry Potter still standing in the middle of the room.

A/N: Hooray! I got another chapter done! I had hoped to post this a couple days ago, but as I read over it one last time, I decided to add a little more. I hope you like what I've written so far. I sure do appreciate the amazing response I received from my last chapter and I hope to hear from you all again. So, what do you all think about Stroper's intentions? Friend or Foe? I look forward to hearing what you think! Please Review!!

p.s. You'll find out the meaning of Snape's password in the next chapter, but I'm handing out bonus points to anyone who correctly guesses the meaning to the Latin phrase. Bye!