Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter NOR any of his friends NEITHER any of his enemies. It's hard to admit, but when I'm done with them all, I have to return them to Joanne K. Rowling in an original wrapping and unharmed.
I make no money, I mean no harm.

Patchwork
Fathers

The children worked on their game for so long they missed lunch. In fact, it was already dinner time when Eddie and Lizzy realised they were hungry; Robert needed to be told about the existence of food to remember he hadn't had any in hours, but once reminded, he felt hungry, too.

"Let's take the back staicase again," Eddie suggested. "We can run most of the way." Indeed, as soon as they turned away from the main staircase, there were no other students in sight, and they broke into run again. They barely slowed down before turning on the stairs, and were taken by surprise when the staircase started moving while they were running down.

"Oh, brilliant!" Robert shouted as he grabbed onto the baluster. Eddie just sat down on the stairs, while Lizzy balanced herself while waving her broomstick.

"It works like a flying training," she giggled.

"It's stopped, let's go."

The stairs now led to a fourth floor corridor. They peeked into it curiously; it was empty, without even paintings on the walls. There was only an empty armour at the distant turn.

"I've never been here," Eddie said. "You?" The other two shook their heads.

"Nice view," Lizzy pointed to a window nearby. "Oh, I can see Hagrid's hut from here. And there's Hagrid!"

"Is he?" They all looked down where the groundkeeper, now seemingly tiny, walked over to his home, his dog following him very closely.

"He looks sad," Lizzy commented.

"How can you tell from four stories away?" Eddie asked. Lizzy just shrugged.

"I wonder what he found in the forest," Lizzy said. "I saw him leaving in the morning while I was waiting for Draco on the pitch. He walked Professors Snape and Malfoy to the gate."

"There's no way you could see them from the pitch," Robert said.

"I was in the stands."

"You were flying near the stands," Robert accused her.

"I may have. But nobody saw me, so all is well. Should we go see Hagrid?"

"Let's grab something to eat first."

"Let's figure out how to get to the Great Hall first," Eddie interjected. "Then we can grab a bite and go visit Hagrid."

They followed the corridor until they found another staircase, which appeared to be more used. They met two girls going up as they went down.

"Aren't they in Gryffindor?" Robert whispered.

"Not Clayworth - she's a Ravenclaw Chaser," Eddie said after checking the two were out of earshot.

"Well, McKenzie is in Gryffindor, but not on the team," Lizzy added. "I've seen them together before. I guess we're not the first ones making friends in another house, then?" She giggled.

They got in the Great Hall without any more adventure. The three hastily scarfed down whatever was near the end of the table before following Eddie down a corridor to a side entrance.

"I found it by accident," Eddie explained. "It leads to the greenhouses, so it's a nice shortcut to Herbology classes, and it's never locked. And no-one will see us and ask where we're going!"

They ran through the gardens, taking pleasure in sneaking outside so close to the curfew. The path they chose led them mostly out of view of the castle and soon they stood in front of Hagrid's hut. Warm light poured out the windows and they could hear a muffled voice.

"Who's he talking to?" Robert asked nervously. Lizzy put her ear near the keyhole to listen.

"Just Fang, it sounds. Come on!" And she knocked on the door. There was a loud bark and they could hear Hagrid calling the dog off. Then, the door swung open. The boys took a step back as the massive half-giant towered over them.

"Who's there?" Hagrid asked almost angrily, scanning the air above their heads for a few seconds before looking down. "Oh, hi Lizzy. Hi Robert. Come on in. Who's yer friend?" And he ushered them in, looked around the grounds, and shut the door.

"What are yeh doin' here so late?" Hagrid asked after Lizzy made the introductions and the children settled at his table. Fang sat under the table, moving his head from one lap to another as he pleased.

"We saw you coming back from the Forest and you seemed upset," Lizzy said. "What happened, Hagrid?"

Hagrid didn't answer at first. He took out a huge handkerchief and blew his nose noisily. His nose, Robert noticed, and his eyes were red.

"Yer so kind," Hagrid said softly and it was clear he was touched. "It's me spider, Aragog, I had him since he was an egg." He vaguely waved his hand. "Used ter live in the Forest, made a family of his own. He died a couple of years ago."

"Oh, Hagrid!" Lizzy cried out.

"Ah, he was old fer an Acromantula. It happens. But all his children, at first, didn' want me around. I finally won them over a couple of months ago an' now they're all gone!"

"Gone where?" Eddie asked. Unlike his Muggleborn friends, Eddie was aware of how huge and dangerous Acromantulas were and he had paled a little.

"Gone. Dead." Hagrid sniffed. "Not sure what killed them. It ain't easy to kill one of those, either." He wiped the tears off his cheeks with the tip of his handkerchief. "I just told the Headmistress 'bout it."

"Oh, Hagrid," Lizzy repeated, quite softly. She moved around the table to pat Hagrid's elbow. "Let me make you some tea," she said. "Daddy says tea makes everything better." She turned to the kitchen and hesitated; everything was too big for her.

"Aw no, you won't," Hagrid replied with a hiccup. "Yer guests. Sit down, Lizzy, I'll be makin' yer tea." The half-giant stood up and put on a kettle. He put some biscuits on a plate and presented them to the children - Robert passed on the wisdom of not eating any to Eddie in a whisper.

"So, this spider of yours..." Eddie started carefully after hiding the biscuit in his pocket.

"Aragog, yeah," Hagrid sniffed.

"You had him since an egg? So for a long time?" Hagrid sat down while waiting for the water to boil and launched into his story.

Draco woke up with a start. He hadn't meant to cry himself to sleep, that much was clear to him, while everything else seemed a bit confusing. But maybe that was because of the dreams he had had, the meaning of which was already slipping away from him.

The room was dark and Draco produced his wand to light some candles. He looked at the clock - it was past six. He'd better hurry up to dinner.

He grabbed a fresh set of robes and quickly changed. With a glance at the other door, he hesitated - should he check on Hermione? But maybe she had already left. She wouldn't wake him up, would she?

In the end, he timidly knocked on the door, and called out, "Hermione?" rather quietly, and when there was no reaction, he headed to the Great Hall.

He found her - and Neville - already sitting at the table, along with Hedwig, who hooted at him.

"Oh, hello, beautiful," he greeted the owl and pulled apart a portion of beef to feed her some.

"Well, I suppose that explains it," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Explains what?" Draco asked, his attention still on Hedwig.

"Hedwig was Harry's, too, so she's now yours," Hermione explained. "And owls, of course, can sense these things."

"Hang on a minute," Neville said.

"I'm still not sure how it could happen without a will," Draco continued.

"May I just..."

"A wizard's will is a form of a magical contract," Hermione lectured. "I read about it. It doesn't have to be in writing to be binding."

"A wizard's will?" Neville exclaimed. "What happened?"

"Oh, Professor Snape discovered today that Harry bequeathed everything to Draco here," Hermione explained. "But we don't know how exactly that happened."

"Discovered..." Neville turned to the High Table but Snape wasn't there yet. Neither was Tisha, for what it was worth.

"What I meant," Hermione continued, "is that the will is binding through magic. Kreacher can tell, and the wards on the house, and even the goblins at Gringotts will grant you access to Harry's vault." There was only the slightest tremble of Hermione's voice as she spoke Harry's name, Draco noted. "I checked some things in the library this afternoon."

"You did," Draco said weakly. Research seemed to be good for Hermione. It was a weird way to handle grief, he supposed, but to each his own.

Snape and Tisha entered the Hall at that moment, quite uncharacteristically from the Entrance Hall, both still in their cloaks and deep in discussion. Snape helped Tisha take off the cloak before shrugging off his own and casting a quick drying spell on them - Draco looked up to the dark enchanted ceiling. It didn't seem to be raining nor snowing, at Hogwarts at the very least - and he and Neville exchanged a look.

"I guess Tisha is still helping that friend of hers," Draco mused. "Anyway, Hermione, if a wizard's will is a magical contract, wouldn't Harry have to make it knowingly?"

"From what I read, sometimes even some unintentional behaviour could constitute the will if a proper one is missing." Hermione paused to drink her pumpkin juice and Draco hastened to fill his plate. He managed to grab a chicken leg and scoop some green beans, but when he reached for potatoes, the large serving plates emptied themselves and he stuck his fork in the pudding, instead.

"Nevermind, I'll take my chicken with... chocolate bread?" Draco seemed puzzled but brought the pastry to his plate.

"What is this?" Neville queried, eyeing it suspiciously. It was a smallish rectangular loaf covered with chocolate. "I never had this before." Draco cut the bread in half, revealing bits of candied fruit inside.

"Oh! My mother used to make this!" Draco said happily. "You were saying, Hermione?" he added politely, moving another loaf on his plate for good measure.

"Since the will can be made unintentionally, many families employ blood wards and similar magic to keep the effects in family - that will not be an issue for you, though, since your mum was a Black."

"Mm-mm," Draco agreed, tasting the pudding.

"Aren't you going to eat the chicken?"

"In a minute. I wonder where the elves got the recipe from. Mother said it was a family one."

"Perhaps Dobby shared it with them?" Hermione suggested. Draco shook his head.

"No, Dobby never knew it. Mother made it herself. Bishop's loaf, she called it." Draco closed his eyes, whether in thought or to savour the taste remained unknown. "Kreacher!" he said sharply all of sudden.

The elf appeared with a loud pop. Several students nearby turned their heads curiously; many had never seen a house-elf before.

"Master called?" Kreacher croaked with a bow.

"I did indeed. Did you make this pudding?" Draco gestured to it quite unnecessarily, as there was only one kind available.

"Kreacher did. Is it not to master's liking?"

"It's excellent. Great job. Keep it up." And he dismissed the elf, who was now beaming, with a wave of hand.

Neville looked around and smiled at the children who were still staring. Some of them, he supposed, had never even heard of a house-elf before.

"Quite a display," Hermione said coolly. Draco shrugged.

"It was too familiar, I had to make sure. You said it yourself, Mother was a Black."

"And you are a Malfoy," Hermione added. But she couldn't stay cross, not even for what she perceived as mistreating Kreacher. It was the first time since the summer that Draco seemed happy about something concerning his mother. It wouldn't do to spoil the moment for him.

Draco startled a bit at hearing his name, still. He glanced at his aunt, trying to catch her eye, but she was still talking to Snape. A Malfoy, he thought. Tisha would like that.

Then he returned to his cold chicken leg.

Snape slowed down a bit when Tisha joined him on his patrol.

"Something you forgot to mention earlier?" he said lightly.

"I'm sure I can come up with something, given enough time," Tisha replied. They walked along the corridor in silence, what little light came through the windows drawing stripes on the stone floors. Once Snape stopped at a classroom, the door of which was slightly ajar, only to find the Fat Friar talking to a ghost of a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead.

"I hope they are not dating," he said sourly after reaching the stairs.

"Not much untoward could happen if they were."

They headed down but had to grab a baluster as the staircase moved. Snape hesitated; they would now have to pass through the dungeons. But as Tisha turned to him, he decided to just go quickly. He was capable of protecting her, after all.

A jot of cold air made Snape stop at the opening of one side corridor and he drew his wand.

"No," he said after a moment. "That is just a draft."

"Well, the voice is missing," Tisha commented lightly.

"Voice?" Snape stopped and faced her. "What voice?"

"There was this... voice. And laughter," Tisha said slowly. "When there was the shadow, I mean."

"Precisely."

"Didn't you hear it?"

"Never. What was it saying?"

"I - I don't know. I didn't understand. It was the Dark Lord's voice for sure, though." She shrugged as if trying to shrug the memory off.

"How do you know?" Tisha shortly laughed in answer.

"I used to live in Malfoy Manor, didn't I?" She resumed walking, forcing Snape to follow. "I heard him at times. Not the best of my childhood memories. Can we change the subject?"

"Certainly. Did you enjoy the dinner?"

"We can continue walking in silence, if you prefer," Tisha said, not bothering to hide the amusement.

"Very well." They did just that for two minutes, then Snape changed his mind. The lack of windows, he mused briefly, makes the dungeons less enjoyable without some sort of distraction.

"How did your last cleaning session go?" he queried.

"Quite well. We got most of the study sorted out. Well, we..." she trailed off uncertainly.

"What, did the tiny house elvsies help?"

"Elvsies?" Tisha exclaimed. "They tried, but mostly just got underfoot. I had to steer Biddy away from Father's bookcase all the time. I wonder how that became unlocked. Still, it's nice to see the little ones running about." She laughed aloud. "They got so excited one time..."

"Wait." Snape held up his hand and crept forward cautiously. Suddenly he reached behind a tapestry and pulled two children forward.

"Jorkins, Brocks. It's past your curfew." The two first-years looked positively terrified. "Do you have an explanation I would like to hear?" They shook their heads. "Who's that behind you? Gamp!" Tisha didn't wait for the third student to step forward. A sound came from around the corner, so she rounded it, expecting another student sneaking around the castle.

It wasn't a student. Tisha stopped dead. She recognised the chilling fear reaching towards her from the darkness ahead, and she tried to call for help, but couldn't - what came out was at best a timid whimper. The high-pitched voice and laughter sounded again, somewhat closer.

Unable to move, she couldn't escape any of it. She thought her feet were freezing, and her fingertips, and she couldn't feel them anymore - a whispering voice replaced the laughter, better audible and more familiar. She knew that voice.

"... a shame, it is, unworthy. A stain on the family name. Abomination..."

Something appeared in the darkness, a pair of cold eyes, eyes that could have been kind but never chose to. The words echoed in Tisha's ears, although she knew it wasn't possible. He was dead, wasn't he? He couldn't speak.

"Lae-ti-cia. What a disappointment you are."

She felt as cold as if her heart had stopped already. The voice spoke more and more clearly. Soon she would be able to make out the face around the eyes - but as the man approached, so did darkness, until there was nothing but the eyes - and then nothing.

"Tisha!" Snape didn't know whether he had heard her cry out or whether he had heard something else - he just ran around the corner at full speed. He collided with her just as her body crumpled to the floor. His left arm attempted to catch her, until his brain informed it there were more pressing matters at hand.

He had never been so close to the shadow before, and yet the coldness and fear he felt were much smaller than usual. His insticts told him it was because the shadow was concentrated on it's victim - so it has some level of cognition - then his other insticts made his wand-arm raise itself.

The blast of the energy invoked by the spell was, as Snape's brain somewhat cynically noted, much greater than it needed to be. Unsurprisingly, it worked. The shadow was banished, eerie coldness gone.

He bent over Tisha, wand still firmly in hand. She didn't seem to be physically wounded, but she was in some kind of shock. Her eyes were half open and she was unconscious.

"Tisha?" he said softly, touching her shoulder. No response. He conjured a stretcher and moved her on it. Then he brushed her hair from her face - could get hair in those half open eyes, couldn't she?

"Professor?" The students he had been scolding peeked around the corner. "We heard..."

"If you haven't heard me telling you to go to your respective beds right away, you heard wrong," he spat angrily. They disappeared so quickly and effectively he would have sworn they Disapparated. Which was impossible, of course.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Madam Pomfrey opened the door in her nightgown and sleeping hat. Snape didn't let her ask any questions and sent the stretcher past her and towards the door in the back, which let into a separate room. Madam Pomfrey took one glance at the person on the stretcher and quickly unlocked the door from distance. She checked on her other patients, making sure they were sleeping tight, before following Snape.

"What happened?" she asked as she started her examinations.

"She ran into the shadow. I have already alerted Headmistress."

"Woke up, more like," the matron muttered. "Hm."

"What?" he barked impatiently, then took a step behind as Pomfrey turned to scold him.

"It knocked her out. She'll wake up soon."

"What happened?" Minerva came from the office, still donning a robe over her nightgown. Her hair, as Snape noted, was a mess. He quickly summarised the events.

"What was Professor Malfoy doing patrolling?" Moody huffed from where he slipped into the room when Snape was still speaking. The two wizards exchanged hostile looks.

"She wasn't patrolling, she was..." Snape paused, looking for an explanation he would be willing to share.

"Not patrolling," Minerva finished for him. She turned to measure Moody with a good glare and raised eyebrows, which did persuade the Defense Master to remain silent for the time being. "Is she hurt, Poppy?"

"Just knocked out." Seven eyes turned to the face of a young unconscious woman on the hospital bed. Moody's magical eye was minding its own business.

"You may just as well leave for now," the matron suggested firmly. "I will call you when..."

"What happened?"

"We should be asking that question," Moody complained.

"What do you remember?" Minerva asked. Tisha sat up and leaned on the bed headboard.

"I heard something from around the corner, I thought there were students, so I went to check." Moody snorted. "And it was there. The cold and the voice and then... whispering."

"Was that the Dark Lord's voice again?" Snape asked in a low voice. Minerva and Moody exchanged a surprised look, but didn't comment.

"No, it... I'm not sure. I don't think so." Tisha shook her head unhappily.

"What was it saying?" Minerva queried.

"Ah - the usual pureblood tirade. General mean things. Shame of the family and such. I'm sorry, I don't remember exactly."

"Now, if you are all done with questioning, maybe you could leave," Pomfrey said sternly. "Not you, Professor." She moved to keep Tisha in the bed, but the Squib was already standing.

"I'm well enough. I'd much rather sleep in my own bed." Pomfrey pressed her lips together, but didn't argue.

"I'll walk you," Snape offered quickly. "Good night." He grabbed Tisha's elbow and succesfully evaded Moody and Minerva, who clearly had many questions.

Just outside of the hospital wing, Tisha recovered enough to reclaim her elbow from him. They resumed their silence until they reached her quarters.

"Good night," Tisha said. Snape followed her inside and quietly closed the door behind them.

"Did I invite you in?"

"Whose voice was it, really?" She turned away from him. "Tisha?"

"I don't remember."

"You do," he insisted. "We are facing a piece of residual black magic. We have been attempting to destroy it for months now, but to no avail. We haven't even been able to discover its true nature. Whatever you know may be the key. We need to rid this castle of it." It was a pretty good speech, Snape thought, but Tisha still surprised him when she turned back to him, stepped closer and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I once overheard my father talking to some of his pureblood friends... about me. He said that... that I was an insult to his heritage. A shame... you get the picture. He said that again. It was his voice."

One half of Snape's mind was already processing the information, but it was hindered by the other half - the panicked, uncertain half which didn't know what to do. What if Tisha started crying? She was practically in his arms. What if...

"I'd like to be alone now, if you don't mind." She didn't start crying. She walked away from him, towards the door to her bedroom, but didn't go through, as if waiting for him to leave first. Then Snape's mind did process the information, and the implications.

In a couple of long, determined strides, he crossed the room, grabbed Tisha by the shoulders and spun her around.

"How can you bear talking to me?" he demanded angrily. She didn't answer. She tried to worm out of his grasp, but unsuccessfully - his fingers were painfully digging into her flesh, as if he were the one terrified and in need of someone's proximity. "How can you stand me at all?" he insisted.

"You're not like the rest of them."

"I was, then. I was exactly the same, I was saying the same things." Tisha was shaking her head in disagreement. "I called Muggleborns Mudbloods. I joined the Death Eaters. I did the Dark Lord's bidding and took pleasure in doing so."

"No! You weren't the same!" she shouted as if her life depended on it being true.

"Really." He let go of her and stepped back. "How would you know that?"

"I heard you." She cleared her throat. "Asking the Dark Lord... to spare the girl. Lily."

None of the emotions that filled Snape's mind as she spoke the name reflected on his face. His insides were in a knot, alternatively icy cold with fear and burning with anticipation, and some of the sensations escaped his ability of description. Yet his face remained bland and his eyes blank.

And still, Tisha lowered her eyes and turned away.

"He didn't undestand. I think he couldn't understand. But you really loved her, didn't you?" Now she glanced at him over her shoulder and Snape hardened his face. A wild guess, nothing but a lucky wild guess. It had to be. He could have never been so transparent to anybody.

Tisha walked to her hearth and absentmindedly picked up the Floo powder pot. As if released from a Paralysing spell, Snape turned around to leave. But just before he could open the door, she spoke again.

"Did he do that? Leave her alive, I mean?"

"No. He killed her all the same."

The door closed behind him like a stone falling over a grave. He checked the time and resumed his patrol. After several minutes, which he judged should be enough for the Headmistress to return to her rooms, he headed for the Gryffindor Tower, taking a roundabout way to make sure he didn't run into Mad-Eye.

As he strode through the silent halls, he started processing all the new information. Tisha heard a voice no-one else heard when encountering the shadow. It belonged to the Dark Lord on the first occassion, and to her father on the second. Her father basically disowning her in front of his acquaintances. He remembered quite well how that felt.

He should really get back to the point, he scolded himself.

The Fat Lady appeared to be sleeping.

"Good evening," he said loudly and knocked on the frame of her painting. She woke up with a start.

"What time is this for you to... oh, Professor," she said disapprovingly.

"Did two of your first-years come through about half an hour ago?" he demanded sharply.

"Well, let me see where I keep my entrance journal," she replied hautily. "Oh, I don't have one, pity..."

"Come of it. You remember what every girl passing through is wearing to such detail that you can discuss each of her garments with your friends for hours. These two were out after curfew, are they back in the tower now, yes or no?"

"Someone did wake me up earlier, I think," she huffed.

"Elizabeth Jorkins and Robert Brooks," Snape supplied. "First-years, but you should have noticed them by now. Or do you want me to describe them to you?"

"Ah yes. These two. Yes, they are back inside. Will you let me go back to sleep now? These children get up quite early in the morning and need to go to the bathroom right away!"

"Thank you for your kind assistance." He turned and headed for the Hufflepuff Common Room. He would have a harder job there, as the portrait watching over the entrance did not also serve as a gatekeeper. But then, the almost never noticed Mr. Hufflepuff, father of Helga, was much more diligent in his duties than the airheaded Fat Lady. Unlike his own father, who couldn't care less if little Severus had gotten lost and run over by a Muggle truck. Or Tisha's, who had a special bookcase for nasty books and left it unlocked for every fool to...

Snape stopped mid-step. Malfoy senior didn't leave the bookcase unlocked, that was Lucius. To take out Spells That Defy Snitches. Which he then put back in the bookcase. Which was in the study in Malfoy Manor.

Snape gritted his teeth.

He would have to go back to retrieve the book.

A/N: It looks like we finally have the elusive book!