Even though Harry was evicted from sleeping with his two lovers, he could not help the healthy jump in his step. Christmas had been absolutely wonderful, but he was happy for the return of his two best friends. He longed to tell them how wonderful Severus was, how he had gotten him literature. Harry hoarded them in his trunk, checking every so often to make sure they weren't bent or stolen. They were tucked beside his album beneath the invisibility cloak with the bag that held a feather from Buckbeak and the last shards of the mirror Sirius had given him.

Draco shocked him by wearing Mrs. Weasley's jumper into the Gryffindor tower. Ron's gobsmacked expression was priceless, especially when Draco made a little twirl and asked if he liked it. Harry wanted to kiss him, but there were too many people.

Harry spotted Alcyone one evening in Potions class, her head tucked beneath her wing, once more meticulously evening her feathers. Hermione was in an excited snit about it for days, wanting to study it for research. He was still waiting for the ball to drop from that harness prank so he kept all information about it to himself for bribery.

Other than an incident where he was called to Hagrid's class to try to control some loose wyverns, things were going fairly well. He hadn't caught any bullies recently, and Hermione told him that the man who had sent him the poisoned letter had just had his trial and was suffering a stint in Azkaban.

Of course, he knew it couldn't last. It never lasted. Things reached a peak, and all that was left to go was down.

This 'down' arrived at breakfast barely over a week after the holiday break, of course, in the form of a letter. He was reading how Margaret was doing and other than being a little snippy she seemed fairly well. He picked up the next letter, deemed harmless by a blue glow, and opened it.

He stopped eating. For a moment, fear became him, but in the next, he'd finished taking the bit of sausage off his fork. Really, he'd gotten letters like this before, though this one was strangely more thought out than its predecessors.

i kNOw was taped letter by letter to a piece of paper. There was nothing else.

What struck him as odd was that usually such things were written in the common spell of anonymous font. Neat, slightly feminine and slanted in an elegant sort of way. This had been cut from a magazine. There wasn't a drop of magic on it, which was how Harry had been able to trace those howlers and how the aurors had traced the letter that caught his hand on fire. Every spell had a magical signature. It took a while, but if you captured some of the magic and fed it through a sort of magical shredder, the core acted like a piece of DNA, though it had the generosity to actually draw you to where the wielder was. Less magic, more time it took to find the source. The amount of magic that animated a howler easily led him to the bints that sent Ginny those hate letters.

He didn't know if whoever did this was incredibly smart or just incredibly weak. It didn't matter either way. Nothing had ever come of these things. Just the fact that he had a secret now was no need to get bent out of shape about it. But he pocketed the message anyway, knowing from experience that if, against all odds, something was borne of this, he didn't want to have to tell Severus he'd thrown it away.

Harry monitored his mail a little more closely over the couple of days. Hermione and Draco noticed, as probably did Severus from the head table. He hoped he was just being silly and paranoid. But the second letter came three days after the first, immersed in the same innocent blue glow.

I KnOw wHAT yourE hIdING

i wiLL RUIN them

Harry felt his blood run cold. He suddenly felt eyes prickling the back of his neck. The urge to whip his head up and look around was unbearable, but he had to keep his head. He had to think about this rationally, because while he and Draco might be able to handle the press, it would destroy Severus.

How many Gryffindors would step forward to say that Severus had abused them when they were younger? All they would have to say is that they were too scared to come forward earlier. It was believable. Not if you knew the man but just by looking at him, taking into account that he worked for Voldemort. Even if Harry somehow managed to keep him out of jail, no one would ever treat him with respect again.

"Harry," Draco said, and he became aware that Ron had shaken his shoulder and they had called his name twice.

"Are you alright?"

Harry swallowed. They had to be in the school. No one else could have seen them. He wondered if that owl was a school bird.

"M-Margaret isn't doing so well."

Draco's eyes flickered, and he knew that he was lying. So did Hermione. Ron had just seen Margaret's letter, had just joked with him that she was having severe mood swings if she was sniping at her savior. But none of them said anything. Harry folded the letter neatly and did not let his eyes stray to the head table. He continued eating, though everything tasted like sawdust and he thought he was going to throw up.

He took a deep breath and thought about quidditch practice. (Hagrid had invited him to visit Grawp, and though he at first thought he was going to refuse, maybe he wasn't spending enough time with the half-giant, and Professor Flitwick assigned them that Charms essay the other day. When was that due? Maybe Hermione would lend him her notes.)

He managed to get through breakfast. He even managed not to run out of the Hall. He hoped only his friends would see how tense his shoulders were, how his lips had turned grey, that his hand was clenched around the wand in his pocket. He realized a few steps down the hall that Draco had a different class than him. He stopped in the middle of the hall, glancing about frantically, trying to figure out what to do.

They had to act normal, right? They couldn't let it appear like they were overly bothered. Which meant Draco needed to go to class, and he couldn't spend all day lurking outside Severus' classroom, making sure nothing happened. He stood torn in the middle of the hall, his friends watching him worriedly.

"We're… going to be late for class," he choked out.

Where was an empty classroom when he needed one? Why couldn't he take Draco's hand? Why couldn't he press him up against the wall and kiss him and tell him to be careful? Why did this have to happen at all?

He kept his gaze on the floor, sure that if he looked up, he'd damn the consequences and slam Draco against the wall regardless of the students slipping passed them into their classes. His hand twitched with the urge to touch his face. Any one of the throng pressing passed them, whispering, sneering, giggling, not even acknowledging them, could be an enemy. He had not forgotten the hair that had made its way on the black market and raped Margaret Cole.

"I'll see you at dinner," he said, turning around briskly and stalking to the Transfiguration classroom. "And be sure not to let any of these blockheaded imbeciles catch you with your guard down!"

Hermione and Ron ran to catch up with him. He jerked his head minutely, telling them not to ask, not yet. Ron stiffened, his eyes darting around suspiciously, but he forced himself to relax a minute later when Hermione pinched his arm and scowled.

Harry picked at the skin on his lips through every class he had until Potions. They were broken and ripped by evening. Draco was in this class, the only hour available for NEWTs Potions. Ron had left reluctantly, but Hermione was still as his side, frowning darkly into her textbook. The blond was edgy, but he controlled it well, visible only to Harry and Severus and probably Hermione, who was observant all on her own. Harry had been listening all day to hear about the rumor, waiting for the whispers and stares. The relief that the ax had not dropped allowed him to quit destroying his lip, but he now had a plan to focus on.

Harry had followed Severus' instructions to the letter this year. Draco had tutored him a bit, and he was proud to say he no longer thought Potions was a skill of the devil, though he still had no raw talent like Draco or Severus. When the instructions on the board told him to dice the shrivelfigs, he knew that it was not the same thing as chopping. He knew that adding a gram more salt to the solution would not react well with the horn beetle wings. And when his cauldron exploded, he had the fortitude to push Hermione with him out of the way and had a vial of bubertoober paste on the edge of the desk for Severus to neutralize the mist of acid beginning to fog the ceiling.

"Detention, Potter! For clearly not following the directions!"

"Yes, sir."

Severus gave him an odd look but swept back down the tables to check the other students' works.

"And see me after class," he threw over his shoulder.

"Harry, you did that on purpose," Hermione hissed in his ear.

He didn't answer. She looked him straight in the eye, her eyes narrowed like a hawk. "Why?"

"Because this includes him too."

She continued to stare at him, trying to figure him out. Harry set to work clearing the mess he had made. When class ended, she tried to lag behind.

"I'll talk to you later, Hermione," he said meaningfully.

Her eyes darted from Severus to Draco and back to him, and though her expression clouded with thought, he knew she still hadn't made the connection. Well, having a basilisk running around the pipes was more believable than this. She left and he heard Ron say something past the door before it shut. Harry flung up a silencing ward, and though he was fairly sure Ron and Hermione were standing guard outside, he cast a spell against extendable ears too.

"Harry, what's going on?" Draco asked, standing.

Harry pulled the letters from his pocket. "Someone knows."

He handed them the letter, which Draco snatched then Severus snatched from him. Draco pressed into his side to read them.

"This could mean nothing," Severus hissed.

"It means everything," Harry said. "It was a school owl. I'm sure of it. And they know about you."

"This could be the two dolts you having running around you," Severus snapped.

Harry shook his head. "It's not. There's no reason for it to be. This was thought out. They didn't use any magic. I can't tell who wrote it, and they know better than to threaten me." He collapsed into a seat, holding his head.

"Harry," Draco said gently. "You might just be overreacting."

"You're right," Harry said, startling them. "This is could all be in my imagination, and I could be completely overreacting." The thought had run through his head. "But what if I'm not? This feels different. It's just… this isn't like the others. I don't like this," he said rather needlessly.

Severus folded the letters. "This will turn into nothing. The fool will ask for money or some other such nonsense, and you will oblige him and he'll be caught. That will be the end of it."

"I hope you are right, Severus."

"He's always right," Draco said with a grin, taking his hand.

Harry graced him with a wan smile. He brought the hand to his mouth, pressing his bloodied lips to his knuckles.

"Ew," Draco said, taking his hand back. Harry laughed weakly. "Go tell your friends you went barmy. I'm sure Weasley has popped a vessel by now."

He nodded. He rose, taking the silencing ward down. He immediately heard shouting.

"Harry James Potter! You open this door right this minute!" Hermione yelled, pounding on the door.

He opened it. "Hermione! What's wrong? What hap- Ow!"

"What the hell were you bloody thinking?" she said, jutting her finger into his chest. "He could be your bloody father and he's a teacher!"

"Fuck."

"Don't you fuck me!"

Draco snickered. Hermione snapped her head to him and glared, and he suddenly remembered that she had punched him in the face once. He held up his hands, taking a step back into Severus.

"You did this!" she rounded. "Of all the-" She turned back to Harry. "How did you let him talk you into- And you even- He could go to jail! He's not- and you aren't- This is so against the rules!"

"I said it'd be the rules," Harry muttered.

Hermione slapped him. He stood in shock for a moment (not the only one) before he turned to face her. She looked more surprised than he did.

"Ow!" he said loudly and deliberately.

"Well… you deserve it! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you'd fucking slap me!" he yelled back.

"Because you didn't tell me! Harry, I know you were really stressed after the war-"

"Oh dear god! You are not going to tell me I'm suffering from some damn syndrome! That has nothing to do with the situation!"

"It might! Maybe you just need to do something absurd. I mean, with you and the war and Voldemort and Dumbledore, maybe now you just need to feel independent. Or maybe you feel the need to save them-"

"Save them?" he cut in angrily, insulted for their benefit and his own, but she went right over him.

"Or maybe you have a need for discipline and-"

"I have a need for what?" he said, affronted.

"And maybe being with an older man makes you feel safe because you were never protected by, by, by any of the people that were supposed to," she floundered, resisting the urge to call them by name.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to lose his temper.

"Oh, Harry," she said. "This is just so unlike you, and I know you wouldn't just throw yourself into something you didn't mean. Really, I do and- You always- And even when you started dating Draco, I knew it wasn't like you were just playing around and he had really changed and- You were always so careful with who you shared your emotions with, but… first Draco and now…" She stared at him as if able to see straight through him just by begging. "This is just so weird. He's a teacher. It doesn't make any sense. Not that your relationships have to make sense," she said to herself. "I mean I always wondered- And your attraction to Draco- It's not like I hadn't thought about it before- But it's just so…" She looked up at him "Are you sure you're alright? This isn't a strange crisis or a cry for attention, right?"

He sighed, pleased that she had tired herself out with speculation. "No," he said firmly, crossing his arms.

She pressed her fingers to her temple, frowning harshly. "God, Harry, he's a teacher."

"Hermione," he said, calm and stern. "Do you think he is taking advantage of me?"

She made a sour face and stoutly did not glance at Severus. She shook her head.

"Do you think I'm taking advantage of him?"

She snorted, not deigning that with an answer.

He crossed his arms. "At least give him the privilege of higher brain function. We've known him for eleven years. You know he doesn't step into anything lightly."

Hermione sighed, massaging her temples. Harry watched her, prepared to defend his choices and Severus'.

"You are such an idiot," she said again, and he knew he'd been forgiven, though she'd watch him suspiciously for a few days.

"And you're a control freak."

She grunted agreeably.

"Where's Ron?" he asked, suddenly noticing that he wasn't there.

"He ran off when I started yelling."

Lucky bastard.

"Well, Miss Granger, that was a lovely performance."

Hermione jumped. She looked over at Severus and grimaced. "Oh. That's just… fantastic."

"Now you know how I feel when you and Ron start going at it."

"I did not need that image," Draco said, making a face not unlike Hermione's.

"Now that we are all sufficiently grossed out," Harry said, stepping forward. "Why don't you tell Ron you haven't killed me and try to stay out of my love life?"

"I was only concerned-" she argued.

"Admirable," he commented blithely. "And none of your business."

They stared at other, wondering if they going to start arguing again. It came close, but Hermione looked away first. They'd hash it out in private. It wasn't like he could avoid her. She knew where he slept.

"I'll tell you about the letter later," he said, standing at the door.

"Tell me next time."

"Well, don't slap me," Harry responded, still irked.

"Sorry," she muttered, not sounding particularly so. "You always give me the worst headaches," she said, pulling open the door.

"Don't tell Ron."

"Well, duh," she said, granting him a look over her shoulder. "My god, he'd implode."

She shut the door. Harry stood there a moment, half expecting her to storm back in and yell at him. He released his breath, feeling like he'd escaped the wrath of a dragon.

"Well maneuvered, Harry," Severus said, in a tone that Harry couldn't tell was serious or sarcastic.

"That went better than I expected," he said.

"She didn't even curse anything," Draco added.

"Shock," Harry told him. He sat on the floor, resting the back of his head against a lab table. "Well, she left out the Oedipus complex and added the Dursleys. I have to admit I hadn't thought about that. I'm just happy she didn't say I was confusing Severus for my father."

Severus scowled at him. The comment was disturbing and amusing on too many different levels.

"You figure I could transfigure myself as a pet or something and everyone could pretend I disappeared," he said, leaning on the counter. "I'll just live down here for the rest of my life."

"I'm sure I have a leash somewhere," Draco said.

"Alcyone would get jealous."

Harry mumbled something unsavory beneath his breath. Draco knelt down beside him.

"Still thinking about the letter?"

He was quiet for a bit before he gave a resigned sigh. "Yeah. We'll just have to wait. I just really hope I'm wrong."

He wasn't.