Chapter 2
The castle was deserted. It was a beautiful Hogsmeade Saturday, after all. At half past nine now, most of the students were still in the village or in their common rooms. A voice stopped him as he marched towards the Grand Staircase.
"What's this, then?" Argus Filch came lumbering out of the Great Hall and stared maliciously at Harry, who rolled his eyes. "No escort, no entry. Can't have just anyone waltzing through the castle, now, can we?"
"I'll just waltz right up to the Headmistress's office, then, and turn myself in," Harry said levelly. Filch's eyes narrowed, but he seemed to be considering what Harry had said. When he nodded and replied, "That'll work with protocol," before slowly shuffling away, Harry thought that perhaps it was time for a new caretaker. One who wasn't quite so confused… Turning, Harry strode once more for the staircase. He found the entrance to the Headmistress's office a few minutes later on the second floor.
Harry gave the eagle the password, "Calico," and ascended the spiraling staircase.
He entered the office, a place he had visited only a few times since leaving Hogwarts (usually due to something James and his nephew Fred had cooked up), and found Professor McGonagall and Neville sitting beside his son, who seemed to be doing his best to look tough and failing miserably. At thirteen, James was the spitting image of his grandfather and just as mischievous. Harry received a letter at least once a month notifying him of something James had done. He usually ended up hiding most of those from Ginny; some of the things that boy got up to while at school would earn him more than a Howler from his mother. At the moment, though, the boy that glanced up at Harry didn't have a hint of the prankster in his eyes.
"Hey," Harry said as he crouched down in front of James, "You want to tell me or show me?" It would be easier if he used Legilimency. The evidence would be more concrete, but he had taught James Occlumency as soon as he had been old enough, and the boy could now block him out easily whenever he wanted to. James bit his lip before looking up at Harry, mind open. Harry met his eyes, and his vision swirled. A few moments later, he pulled back and stood up.
McGonagall and Neville followed him over to her desk and sat down. James stayed where he was on the steps leading over to the desk and watched them. "We never do seem to meet under pleasant circumstances anymore, Harry," said McGonagall quietly, glancing back over at James. Neville ran his hand through his hair and asked, "What do you think?"
"I think you're right about the castle's magic keeping this thing out. Everyone who's seen this shadow has been attacked immediately after. It's been a little over an hour and a half since he saw it. And he did see it. No one's ever been able to report exactly what it looked like before; they're usually incapacitated or dead, but he got a full view of it. Everyone keeps reporting different "beasts" stalking all over Britain, and it definitely looks like a beast. Reptilian, sort of. It's hard to tell because of the ghostlike quality. In any case, we've got to get to the bottom of this soon. It's already been going on too long."
"All of the teachers have been searching through their research," McGonagall sighed, "No one has found anything that even remotely resembles these attacks."
Harry nodded slowly, "This is either very new magic or very old. I doubt anyone but Binns might have ever heard of it. If he hasn't, I'm not sure where to look. The Aurors are tracking down anyone they can find who practices Old Magic. Spell Development wizards are busy trying to figure out how to catch the bloody thing."
James had gotten up and moved over to the adults. "What about me?" he asked. Harry turned to him, "You're going to stay here. For now, it seems like whatever this is can't mess with the castle. In the meantime, I want you to go to class and do your homework. And until we figure this out, don't go anywhere alone and don't leave the grounds."
"But, Quidditch—"
"Is on the grounds,"Harry looked hard at him, "And will be monitored. I want you to be able to play, but you're going to go by my rules if you do. Understand?" James nodded, not altogether happy with these new restrictions. If the castle was safe, then why were more rules needed inside it? Harry saw the look on his face and prodded him with his wand, "At least you're still allowed to move about inside the castle normally. Cheer up. You look like Christmas was cancelled." Harry didn't feel at all like making jokes, but the boy needed something to take his mind off the worry. It seemed to work; James gave him a sideways smirk and moved towards the door. Harry waved him off, and he took off down the spiral staircase. "No running!" Harry called after him, shaking his head. He looked at the two teachers, "Doesn't do any good to tell him that at home, either." Neville snorted at that, "Doesn't do much good to tell him anything. Pair him up with Fred Weasley, and it's like Fred and George all over again."
McGonagall smiled, "Too much like his grandfather."
Harry returned the smile for a moment before lapsing back into his thoughts. "What do we need to do, Harry?" asked Neville when the silence stretched. His question pulled Harry back.
"I suppose keep an eye out. Same as before. Don't take chances with anything. Considering the situation, it might be a good idea to cancel Hogsmeade visits, Professor." This last Harry directed at McGonagall, who nodded and said, "I thought as much. If it went after one student and lost him, it might go after another."
Remembering he needed to speak to Snape's portrait, Harry glanced over at it. Snape, like every other headmaster on the walls, was asleep. Harry smirked; with everything that had happened over the last hour, he very much doubted the man was actually asleep. More than likely, he had adopted the method of feigning sleep to eavesdrop that most of the old portraits used so frequently. Feeling the need to vent his agitation somehow and figuring he'd test the waters just to see if Snape really was asleep, he walked over to the portrait and said, "I hope that encyclopedia's spine didn't split when you threw it at me."
Snape opened his eyes and scowled at him, "You should be thankful it couldn't leave the portrait."
"Nice to see you, too," Harry looked over his shoulder at Neville and McGonagall, "I wonder if I could have a few minutes? I need to talk to him." They rose to leave, but Neville hesitated, "Harry? Let me know if I can help?" Harry nodded, and they left. He turned back to the portrait.
"You're a lot less reserved than you used to be when it comes to me," Harry said, "Throwing books and everything."
"Life as a portrait is incredibly freeing, Potter," Snape said snidely, "And you deserved it."
"If you'll recall, Professor, you were the one who started the argument. And I thought we were beginning to get along," he paused, "In the interests of time and mending bridges, I'll apologize for calling you a drunken bat."
"What is it you want?"
"You've heard about this shadow that brings tragedy?" Snape nodded slowly, "And that James saw it today?" Another nod.
"You think I might know what it is."
Harry grimaced, "I'm hoping you know what it is, or at least have an idea. We're out of leads. We don't have anyone with enough knowledge of the Dark Arts who is willing to talk to us. And, no, my mind did not automatically jump to you. It was actually Arthur Weasley's suggestion to ask you."
"I do not know what the creature is." Harry's heart sank. "But… parts of what I have heard do seem familiar. Tell me the things that have happened after the shadow was spotted. The method may be the key. As I was conveniently enough painted surrounded by an immense library, I assume that I will be able to find something relevant."
Thankful that Snape was back in civil mode, Harry related all he knew of the attacks. The other man listened, sometimes taking notes. Finally, he looked up, "I will research this. If I find something, Minerva will call you." He moved deeper into the portrait. When nothing else was said, Harry assumed Snape was through talking to him. At some point, he had learned that it was much easier to just go along with him when he did this. Evidently, the fact that he was a painting and could do whatever he wanted had made Snape uncaring as to whether or not anyone wanted his attention. Not that he had cared much during his life either, though.
As Harry departed the office, Snape looked up. "Thank Merlin," he breathed, "I can only stand so much… Potter… at one time."
"Oh, come now, Severus,"chuckled the next-door portrait of Albus Dumbledore, "You and I both know Harry has quite a bit of respect for you. That boy of his is living proof of it."
"Why anyone would name their child in such a way baffles me…" scoffed Snape.
"Oh, I don't know…" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "I rather like it. It has a nice sound to it."
In a rare huff of laughter, Snape said, "You would, Albus. I suppose it's lucky you are planted in that portrait; I don't think the world could manage two of you at once."
"Or two of you, perhaps?" the twinkle was becoming more annoying as Dumbledore sidled into Snape's portrait and became perusing the shelves for a book to read, "Albus Severus Potter. An interesting name, even if you choose to deny its significance. Not to mention the boy himself is fascinated with you, Severus. He's always hoping to catch you out and about. You should visit your portrait in Harry's home during the summers. Let him get to know you a bit."
Snape looked horrified at the thought, "Why, in the name of Merlin, would I want to subject myself to that, Albus? Letting Potter's offspring prowl through my head is the very last thing I want to endure in this life."
"Afterlife, if we're being proper," Dumbledore murmured as he scanned the preface of an especially ancient looking book, "Besides, Severus, you might find you have more in common than you believe. He is of your House, you recall, though slightly insecure about his Sorting, I believe."
"Why should he be insecure?" Snape's curiosity overruled his need for stoicism.
"He was Sorted into the House that is known for turning out dark wizards, not to mention the Dark Lord himself. His father has battled against members of Slytherin for years now. It's no wonder the boy worries if there is something wrong with him. Not only that, but I believe the rest of the family views it as some sort of fluke, though Harry is quite understanding of the situation," He looked pointedly at Snape, "You would be in a prime position to help the boy's self esteem, you know. He already admires you, his namesake."
Snape scowled and turned back to his books, "Why not you, Albus, as you also share that honor?"
Quietly, as he started to return to his own portrait with his book, Dumbledore said, "You were the one who fooled Voldemort, Severus, not I. Al's fascination is with you for all of your accomplishments."
Snape attempted to ignore the blatant manipulation as he buried himself in research. It did bother him, though, that the boy felt himself to be unworthy because of his House. His portrait in the Potter household was in the office, he thought he remembered…