Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

Regarding the bits with Mrs. Weasley, and then with Luna:

First of all, I'll take no crap for the bit with the Weasley patriarch. I, myself, think that it suits the characters and the story well, and I was always surprised as to why something similar never occurred in canon. As far as the part with Luna goes, I understand that it might seem a bit misplaced, given the circumstances, but it was a necessary evil to get through, as I needed it for the story. All the same, I think this chapter turned out well when I wrote it, so I hope you all enjoy it.

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Christmas morning Harry found himself dragged downstairs in his pajamas. The twins were practically vibrating in excitement like small children. Everyone gathered in the living room around a small tree that looked as though the Weasleys had cut it themselves. Bill, the twins, and Mrs. Weasley, all seemed wide awake, while everyone else was bleary-eyed and groaning. Mr. Weasley handed Harry a cup of coffee and he nodded in thanks, sitting back calmly and sipping at it, watching the family around him.

It took a little while for everyone to wake up completely, and soon they were all ready. Harry noticed that Percy was absent from the gathering, and a seat had been left empty for him, a mug of cocoa with a warming charm sitting near it. Every few minutes Mrs. Weasley would glance at the spot and twist her hands in her apron fretfully.

"Alright then, you all know the drill, one at a time. First up," Mr. Weasley picked up a package and looked at the name on it. "Fred and George, first one's yours." He held it out to them and four hands took it and began tearing at the paper. Only Harry noticed the momentary falter in their expressions.

"Alright!"

"This is great!"

"Thanks Bill!" The two held what looked like a large book, and Harry peeked from his spot between them to see that the title was on curses. The book was old, and Harry wondered how many of the spells in it were actually legal. They grinned at their older brother and he smiled back, though his expression was slightly off. Perhaps Harry hadn't been the only one to see them falter then.

"Alright, this one's for Ron." And so it went. Each person got one gift at a time, and they cycled through each of them. Harry got his traditional Weasley sweater, an extensive book on runes from the twins, a broom kit from Ron, some rock cakes from Hagrid, and a beginners book on stonelaying from Bill. The man said he had already read it, and thought Harry might enjoy it. He had been shocked to receive a couple of outfits from the Dursleys, which actually appeared to be his size. Sirius had sent him an entire block of the material the chain had been made of, and a book on using magic for manipulating various metals and stones.

He had made sure to get presents for everyone that was here, except for Bill, which made him feel bad but which the man only waved off, and everyone who wasn't here. He had even sent Dumbledore several pairs of colorful socks. He had gotten a few lace tablecloths for Mrs. Weasley, which had made the woman blush in happiness and smile at him in a motherly sort of way that made a warm feeling of pride curl in his chest. For Mr. Weasley, he had gotten a handheld muggle radio, and had even managed to find a shop that had altered the thing to be able to function around magic and even run on it.

He had gotten the twins separate gifts, which had made them look at him strangely, but they had seemed to enjoy them all the same. For George, there had been books on defense and transfiguration, along with one that was all about hyenas. He had rubbed his head in embarrassment when he saw it, but had almost immediately began reading it. For Fred, he had gotten books on charms and potions, and a thick, fuzzy green scarf with a smiling fox embroidered into it in gold. Fred had looked at it wonderingly and then smiled in a way Harry had never seen before, then he had wrapped it happily around his shoulders, and had yet to take it off since.

For Ron he had managed to find a book on the history of the Chuddley Cannons in a discount shop in Hogsmeade. Ginny had received an animated stuffed dragon, that, though childish, seemed to make her very happy. For Hermione, he had spent a few extra galleons for a self-updating Hogwarts: A History that he knew she would love.

Sirius had been a little more difficult to get a gift for, but in the end he had decided on a pet. Sirius had mentioned a few times about being lonely in Grimmauld with no one staying very long and Harry being gone, so he had sent him a tiny little black puppy he thought might be the magical version of a Labrador, along with everything the man would need to care for it. He hoped he would like it.

He had even bought gifts for Luna and Daniel. A book on extremely rare magical creatures and a nice cloak in Hufflepuff colors respectively. He wasn't sure how they would take their gifts, but he didn't know them well enough yet to know what sort of thing might suit them better.

He yawned as he sat on the back porch of the burrow. It was later in the day now, and it was sunny out, surprisingly warm for the season. It seemed to always be warm here. He felt lazy, and was watching the twins, Ron, and Ginny run about catching gnomes. The back door opened behind him and he scooted over so that whoever it was could get by him, but was surprised when they sat down next to him.

"Still tired? Did you sleep alright?" Bill smiled gently at him, and Harry noticed his teeth seemed whiter in the sunlight.

"I slept fine. It's just been a rough few days."

"The twins bothering you?"

He shook his head. "No. Fred and George are great. It's just... Well, I'd rather not talk about it if you can forgive me." He looked down, but Bill only nodded.

"I understand. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to... So... Out of curiosity,"

"Yes?"

"Why did you get the twins separate gifts. Everyone usually just..."

"Lumps their gifts together?" The man nodded and Harry gave a snort. "I gave them separate gifts because they're separate people. They might look almost the same, but on the inside, they're very different."

He blinked. "How so?"

"Well, George is the tough one. He has thicker skin and he's very protective of Fred. He's also more dominant than Fred is, and when they start talking back and forth he's usually the one that speaks first. Fred has more patience, but he's also more mischievous. And they excel in different things. George is good at defense against the dark arts, transfiguration, and care of magical creatures, but he's terrible at charms. Fred is brill with charms and he's pretty decent with potions and herbology, but he can't cast an advanced transfiguration spell to save his life. Besides that, they're not even identical. George has this big freckle right on the tip of his nose, and Fred's eyes are brighter, plus, Fred chews his nails, and George doesn't."

Bill looked at him in awe and he blushed and looked away. "That's incredible. I've always tried to tell them apart but I've never been able to. They act so much alike each other in public, and I've never noticed the differences. No one I know of has ever managed it before." Harry kept his eyes down and only shrugged. Bill laughed. "It's no wonder my family likes you so much Harry, you're quite an amazing person." He clapped a hand on Harry's back, making his face heat up even more, and then went to join his younger siblings.

Harry looked after him with a smile, contemplating how much he loved the red headed family.

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Harry found himself trapped between a set of redheads as soon as he entered the room for bed. The day had been spent lazily, with a family Quidditch match and reading some of the stonelaying book from Bill. He jumped when the twins grabbed him, having thought they weren't yet in the room. They bound him up in a double hug.

"Wha?"

"We heard." He paused, the words having been muffled in his hair, but he thought he understood what was said.

"Heard what?"

"What you said to Bill." The speaking twin pulled away slightly so Harry could see his face and note that it was George. Harry's eyes widened slightly at the words, and he made a small 'oh' sound, unsure of what else to do.

"We wanted to thank you." Fred pulled back a little and smiled at him, and Harry noticed his eyes were watery. "No one's ever treated us like separate people before." The gratitude on both their faces was overwhelming, and Harry felt a lump in his throat that made it very hard to speak.

"Anything you want, Hare. Anything we can repay you with." George looked sincere and determined all at once, and Harry tried to think of what he could possibly want. He gave them a nervous smile and tried to speak past the lump.

"Ca- can you sleep next to me again?" He swallowed. "Like that night I had a nightmare?" Their smiles were gentle and without judgement, and they led him to bed without a word.

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Hermione arrived the day after Christmas, and as Harry had predicted, she and Ron were quite happy to pretend the world outside each other didn't exist. Harry spent the next couple of days hanging out with the twins and Bill, and helping Mrs. Weasley cook. She had been reluctant to let him help at first, but had given in, and when he had done well with the small tasks she assigned him, then she had let him do more. He was there now, helping her cook breakfast. They would be leaving for the station not long after everyone was done eating, and Harry knew he would miss the burrow greatly. Molly had been running about the kitchen and seemed to be fretting about something. Harry figured she was probably just upset at the thought of her children all leaving her soon.

"Mrs. Weasley, I think the potatoes are done." She came over and shifted the chopped potatoes in the pan, smashing one with the spatula. It gave way to mush easily enough and she nodded and turned off the burner.

"So it is. Could you put it all on a plate for me, dear?" He nodded and went to the cabinet to find a plate large enough. The Weasley dishware was mismatched and occasionally chipped, and the plate he chose was a tan color and old enough that he wondered if it had once been white. Molly stood near him as he began transferring the potatoes out, twisting her hands in her apron in what he had come to recognize as a nervous habit of hers. She looked as though she wished to say something, and he dealt with the potatoes a bit slowly so as to give her a chance. He was nearly done when she managed it. "Harry, dear?"

He paused in his task and looked up. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I," She hesitated and then seemed to steel her resolve. "I was wondering if perhaps you might consider calling me mum." His eyes widened and his grip on the spatula went slack. She continued on quickly. "That is to say that I'm not trying to replace your mother, rest her soul, but Arthur and I have been talking about it, and we think of you as our own. Of course if you're uncomfortable with it then you don't-" He interrupted her with a hug, clinging to her tightly.

"I would like that. I would like that a lot... Mum." They hugged for a long time, and if her apron was a little wet and he had to wipe his face when he pulled away, well...

That wasn't anybody's business at all.

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Harry yawned and looked out the window of the compartment. The twins had run off with Lee, mentioning how they hadn't spent time with him in a while, and Harry hadn't had the heart to ask to join them. The twins were hardly his keepers, and he felt selfish when he realized just how much of their time he had been monopolizing. Ron and Hermione were off doing their prefect duties or snogging in the bathroom, and so he had been left alone. Almost as soon as he acknowledged that thought, the door slid open. Harry looked up, and was immediately put on edge by the Slytherin who stood there.

"Mind if I join you?" His eyes narrowed. He knew very little about Zabini, besides that he was friends with Malfoy, and that he shared a group with Neville in ancient studies. But Zabini had never directly insulted him or done him harm, so he nodded cautiously. "Thanks." The dark boy smiled at him and sat down on the seat opposite him. Harry was nearest the window, while Zabini had placed himself closest to the door.

The distance calmed Harry, and when the other boy merely pulled out a book and began reading, ignoring Harry entirely, he went back to his watching of the scenery passing by. Several minutes passed in silence, until the compartment door opened again, and they both looked up. It was Luna, and she was soaked through. Harry jumped up and pulled her in, shutting the door behind her.

"What happened to you?"

She smiled. "The nargles seemed to have made it rain inside the train." He couldn't help the growl that came out, knowing Luna well enough by now to know that nargles meant bullies and bad people.

"Come here." He recalled a spell Molly had used to clean up spilled juice and he used it now, waving his wand over Luna, hoping to get it right on the first try. "Evanescant liquida." He nodded in satisfaction when Luna was left dry and motioned at her to sit down. She shivered slightly, and he realised she was likely still cold, so he pulled a cloak from his trunk above them and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled at him, and he sat back down. He glanced at Zabini, and met his eyes. He had an odd expression on his face, and after a moment he returned to his book.

"How are you, Harry? Have the wrackspurts left you alone during the holidays?" He gave her a look, but she only smiled loftily, and he sighed, knowing she would tell him nothing more about who was bothering her.

"I'm fine. Christmas was nice. I spent it at the burrow." His answers were a little clipped, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'd like to thank you for the book you sent me. I've enjoyed it so far. I haven't finished it yet though. Here." She pulled a package from somewhere, though he wondered where it could possibly have come from when he saw the size of it. It was bigger than a large book, but it wasn't shaped like one, rather it was a lumpy package wrapped in brown paper. "I wanted to give it to you in person."

He took it carefully, and unwrapped it without ripping the paper that reminded him of paper bags at the grocery. He blinked curiously at the many large pieces and straps of something like leather, and what he thought might be black metal that unfurled as it was unfolded. "What...?"

"Wow." He looked up, Zabini was staring at his gift with surprise. The boy scooted closer until he was nearly touching Luna and gestured to it. "May I?" Harry glanced from him to Luna, and she only tilted her head. He nodded, and Zabini gingerly picked up one of the pieces. "Pinnam arma." He whispered the words reverently, and looked at Luna. "Is this dragonscale?"

She shook her head. "Basilisk. Dipped in Irrefragabiles lapis and tempered with dragonfire." He whistled in an impressed way and nodded.

"And the base?"

She smirked this time, and Harry felt alarmed at the thought of it. "Elden bark magically fused with dragonhide and paper steel." This time Zabini outright gaped at her.

"And let me guess, threaded with acromantula silk?"

"Of course."

"Um, I'm a little lost here. What exactly...?"

Zabini didn't look at him like he was stupid as he had expected him to do, but only seemed mildly surprised that he hadn't followed along. "This is pinnam arma. It means feather armor. This set is particularly impressive."

"Feather armor?"

He nodded. "It's called that because it's infused with special charms and runework underneath it that makes it weightless. You wear it under your clothes and it molds to you and flattens out against your skin. This set would be impervious to most magical attacks baring the killing curse and a few other potent spells, and I doubt any physical attack could get through it. You push a little of your magic into the chest piece so it recognizes you as its' owner and protects you."

Luna jumped in then. "It changes in size as you grow, and if you become an animagus," Here she looked just a little too knowing for his tastes. "it will change with you so that it's still there even in your other form. There's seals on the arm and leg bracers that can hold things like your wand and whatever else you like." She looked a lot more focused than usual, the strange clarity making Harry nervous.

"I, this must have cost you a fortune! I can't accept this!" He moved to give it back to her but she shook her head.

"It's been in the family for a while. It only cost me a galleon to get it shined." Her eyes went a little dreamy again. "Me and daddy have no use for it. He was going to throw it away." She smiled. "You can pay me back by wearing it."

"Potter." He looked back to Zabini. "This could be useful to you. It could help the next time you have to face the dark lord."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "What do you care for?"

Zabini scoffed. "Not all Slytherins support the dark lord." His voice lowered so that Harry had to lean closer to hear him. "Most only join him to protect themselves. They don't think you can win. If they throw their lot in with the light, and the light loses..." He let the sentence hang in the air, and Harry swallowed, a sharp moment of clarity hit him, and he stood up to hide the armor in his trunk without another word.

Then he sat back down, Zabini returned to his book, Luna returned his cloak and left, and Harry wondered if he had imagined the whole thing.

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Harry watched the Slytherins carefully over the next few days. He didn't focus on Zabini, or Malfoy, but instead, for the first time, he looked upon the house as a whole. And he learned.

They stuck together. During the entire week he didn't see a single Slytherin by themselves. They moved in packs, and often the groups of younger years were accompanied by an older student. There was a system to it, as though it had been carefully planned out (and Harry was certain it had been). If one Slytherin was asked to stay after class, others would wait outside of the room, even if that meant they were all late to their next class and lost points.

He gained understanding when he watched how other people reacted to them. His fellow Gryffindors were always hostile. When there were confrontations, it was always his house that started it. This shamed him, but he didn't pity the snakes. For even though the lions would start it, the snakes would be the ones to finish it, and more often than not, they won. The Hufflepuffs usually acted frightened, but there were some who were as bad as the Gryffindors. Ravenclaws were a toss up. Some were hostile, some were wary, but most of them didn't seem to care. They seemed mostly content to ignore the snakes, who offered the same courtesy in return.

He used the time to try and forget about the armor in the bottom of his trunk, but it remained a burden in the back of his mind. He ignored it for now though, and tried to think of a way to help the Slytherins. If Zabini was right, then they were only taking the mark because they believed Voldemort was going to win. But if the light won, as Harry believed they would, then a lot of the older snakes were going to end up in Azkaban, when all they were really after was protecting themselves and their families. They had no respect for Dumbledore, and would never believe him capable of defeating the dark lord. So he needed to prove to them that he could do it, that Harry Potter would be the one to defeat Voldemort, the one to win. He needed to prove he could. And while he might not have thought himself capable last year, now, after becoming what he was, it wasn't too difficult for him to imagine sinking his claws into Voldemort's guts and ripping him apart.

The only problem was how he would prove it to the Slytherins, and without revealing any secrets.

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The first occlumency lesson after the break came before Harry felt ready for it. He had kept up on his meditation, but he was distracted, and had a lot on his mind. He hadn't yet gotten the chance to go to the forest or the lake and so the stress was beginning to get to him. He knocked on Snape's office door to announce his presence, and it swung open. Snape sat at his desk with a scowl on his face, and from the bicorn's behavior he could tell the man was in a terrible mood.

When he sat, Snape flung a box at him, and he caught it clumsily. "That is from our mutual acquaintance." The snarl in his voice told Harry his true feelings on the matter, and when he looked at the box and saw that it said 'from Snuffles' he was hardly surprised. He smiled fondly for a moment, but set the box aside when Snape snorted. "If you are ready, we will begin now. I trust you have kept up your studies of the mental arts? Or were you too busy this holiday to bother?" Harry narrowed his eyes angrily but was careful to keep his tone even.

"I've been meditating every day. And yea, I'm ready to start, Snape."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for improper grammar and disrespect. You will use the word 'yes' not 'yea' when in my presence, and you will call me professor. Am I understood?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "Yes, professor."

"Very well. Legimins."

Harry fought the intrusion, but he was distracted, and he couldn't protect his memories as easily. The man rammed through his defenses, and latched onto a memory of Sirius. Harry panicked.

"It's alright Harry. Everything will turn out ok."

"I hate that I have to keep this a secret. Why can't I just tell Ron and Hermione? They'd never tell a soul."

Sirius' face softened, and he patted his arm. "Because it's dangerous. If the ministry finds out, and they find out that Ron and Hermione knew, then they could punish them too."

Harry whimpered. "So this is all so I don't take anyone else down with me?"

"Harry..."

Harry pulled him from the memory, but the man was persistent, wanting to know the secret, and he latched on to another close memory before Harry could stop him.

Harry stood before the mirror in the attic of Grimmauld. He was taking in the changes again. It seemed unreal to him, and he knew it would take getting used to. He wore only his pants, and the black scales stood out in sharp relief against his pale skin, his tail waving lazily behind him, scraping along the floor as it went.

"So does this happen to everyone who forgets to take the animagus safety potion?"

"No." Sirius sat at a dusty table behind him, a book in his hands. "Usually the changes wouldn't be so extensive. I think it's because your animagus form is a magical creature that you were affected like this."

"Yea." He turned away from the mirror and back to Sirius, a ghostly blue padfoot laying by his feet and panting. "I can't say it bothers me. It feels natural I guess. So have you found it yet?"

"I think so. It's a dark creature according to this, but that doesn't mean anything. You'll just have to be careful that no one finds out."

He felt queasy at the knowledge. "So what am I?"

Sirius turned the book to show him. There was a still painting on the page. The creature looked similar to his animagus form, but was colored a reddish brown with a black mane. It looked out of the pages at him with a snarl. "The Mishipeshu, also known as an underwater panther..."

With a growl Harry pushed as hard as he could, putting everything he had into it, and then he had pushed Snape out of his mind, and was diving into his. A memory unfurled before him, one that seemed to have been close to the surface, and which Snape couldn't stop him from entering.

Severus ran for his life, wondering what had possessed him to listen to Black and go to the shrieking shack. He could hear the beast behind him but he didn't dare slow down. With a yelp, he tripped and fell to the ground. He tried to crawl to his feet but a snarl made him freeze. He turned slowly, and looked up into the terrifying visage of the werewolf. The creature leapt, and as the open jaws descended towards him, Severus screamed.

Harry found himself wrenched from the memory and left shaking in his seat. He gasped for breath and he could feel his body drenched in sweat. Across from him Snape didn't look to be faring much better. The man rasped out a call for Timpy and soon the little elf was there and fussing between them, wiping away sweat and making them both drink water. Then she was gone just as quickly, off to get them soup.

They didn't speak or look at each other, even after she returned. They ate in silence, each contemplating what they had seen within the other's mind. It had been strange for Harry to be inside Snape's mind and see something from his point of view. He had 'felt' that Snape hadn't been much younger then than he was now. He had heard the man's thoughts as he had been running, felt the man's terror and anger with himself. And he had recognized the werewolf as professor Lupin. He closed his eyes as he drank his soup, anger with his godfather filling him. He had suspected of course, based on some of Sirius' stories, but now he knew for certain. Sirius, and likely his father, had been bullies. It was no wonder Snape hated them, or that his hate had transferred to Harry. He looked a lot like his father, and Snape probably thought he was just like him.

"I take it you wear glamours, Mr. Potter?" Harry looked up, and met the man's eyes. His face looked tired more than anything else, the bicorn pacing but silent. Then he stood up and removed his cloak, laying it across the back of his chair. He took off the metal band from his wrist and set it on the desk, feeling the minimal glamours fall away. His tail curled around his leg nervously and he watched Snape's face carefully. "Does anyone else know?" Aside from Black? Left unspoken.

"Just Fred and George. I had a better glamour before, but the chain it was bound to was broken in the forest. They caught me when I snuck back into the castle and demanded answers." He pointed at the band. "That one doesn't work as well as the old one, but I've been working on something to replace it."

Snape nodded. "Is it just physical attributes that you've gained, or are there instincts as well?"

Harry shrugged. "Mostly just little stuff. The only big thing is the water. If I don't go into water for too long I get really stressed and start snapping at my friends."

"And how, exactly, have you been combating this?"

Harry hesitated, but spoke anyways. What would it matter if Snape knew now. "I sneak out of the castle on the weekends and go into the lake. The merpeople know about me, and I spend time with them there. It works well enough as long as I don't miss a weekend. Any longer than a week will start to get to me."

The professor nodded and looked down at his desk in thought. It was silent for a few moments, and Harry sat down again, his tail laying across his knees. He ran a finger along the fins that were present near the end of it and then stay still, waiting. Eventually Snape spoke again. "You have not shared this with Dumbledore?" He shook his head. "Why?"

"He has enough to deal with. I didn't want to bother him. There's no fixing this. The changes can't be reversed, and I don't care. I feel comfortable as I am. There's no way to alter a person's animagus form either. It's my problem. I've managed dealing with it just fine so far, and it won't be so difficult after school because I won't be surrounded by people then." Snape nodded, seeming to accept his reasoning.

"You may return your glamour if you like, and proceed to your meditation."Harry nodded, and moved to pick up the band, but hesitated. "Is there a problem Mr. Potter?"

"I... if it's alright with you, now that you know, I'd like to keep it off when I'm here. It's uncomfortable." Snape scrutinized him for a moment, and then nodded in agreement, and with a mumbled thanks, Harry went to sit before the fire.

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"Hermione, no."

"But Harry! That woman is awful! No one is learning anything. You're the best-"

"I said no. I have too much on my plate right now. Classes are getting harder because of OWLS, and I have-"

"Harry, please! If you don't help then no one else will! Can't you at least try? If it's too much then you can quit, but can't you at least try it?"

"But, the Quidditch season just started, and even if I can't play, I still-"

"Harry, please!" She was practically begging now, the look on her face revealing her desperation, and Harry sighed.

"Fine. I'll try. But if I'm going to do this, I'm going to be in charge. It'll be on my terms or not at all." She nodded eagerly, not at all taken aback by his harsh tone.

"Oh thank you!" She hugged him. "I'll gather up a few people and set up a meeting in Hogsmeade for this weekend. Ok?" He sighed, and nodded in acceptance. Now he would have even less free time, it seemed.

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A good number of the students sitting around them looked at Harry as though he was the insane boy the newspapers had been saying he was. They had managed to erect a good privacy ward around the table but Harry could tell already that this wasn't going to be pleasant. These people weren't here because they wanted to learn from him. They were here because they hated Umbridge.

"And why should we listen to him?" It was a Hufflepuff who spoke, but not one that Harry really knew. He scowled. He had noticed something while observing these people. There were no Slytherins. Not a single one. A plan began brewing in his head, one he knew no one was going to like, but he had been trying to come up with something for a while now, and he was running out of viable plans.

Hermione went to speak, and Harry decided it was time to cut in. He glanced at the twins, who sat across from him, and caught their eyes before he began speaking. "Because I can teach you. I think that's at least better than what Umbridge has been doing."

The Hufflepuff gave him a nasty look. "That doesn't mean we should learn from you. The prophet says you're just-"

"So you're listening to what the prophet and other people tell you about me? Are you too stupid to form an opinion on your own?" The boy looked taken aback by his sharp words and he felt Hermione kick him underneath the table, but he didn't care. It had been more than two weeks since he had been to the lake and he was irritable. These people were hardly helping.

He leaned forward. "Let me make something clear. I don't care about you." Hermione kicked him again but he ignored her. "I don't want to do this. I've got enough crap to worry about without teaching a bunch of people I don't really want anything to do with. The only reason I'm even thinking of agreeing to this, is because she," He pointed towards Hermione. "begged me to. I know a lot about defense. I've been taught by a few different people, and not just inside DADA class. I've faced Voldemort a few different times now and managed to get away with my life, which is more than most can say. I don't care if you believe that he's back or not, but he is. If you decide to pretend he's not then be my guest." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "But when the day comes that you come face to face with a death eater and can't defend yourself, I'm not gonna say I told you so. But don't expect me to save your ass, either."

His piece said, he stood up and began to walk away, paying no mind to Hermione or Ron's gaping faces. He heard two sets of feet fall into step behind him and didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. The irritation in him had begun to blossom into anger. He felt hands grab both of his arms and he closed his eyes and let them drag him away. He tried to pull in his anger as best he could as they went. And he listened to the world around him. He heard snow crunch under their feet, then rocks, then wood. They opened a door, and then another. There were stairs, one last door, and then his feet were moving over dirt. They were headed through the tunnel that led to the whomping willow.

Eventually they came out the other end, and were walking on snow again. The snow changed to dirt and dried leaves and he kept his eyes closed until they stopped. They were in a part of the forest that opened out to the lake. He could see the other banks of it from here, but this spot was sheltered. No one was around. He looked behind him at the twins. Fred nodded.

George smiled. "Go on. We'll cover for you." He sighed in relief, then tossed them the glamour band and his clothes, wand, and fake glasses so that he could dive into the lake.

He was shifting almost as soon as he had touched the water, and soon it was a black mishipeshu who was moving through the water rather than a wizard. He purred in contentment, the fire in him going from a destructive blaze to a soft candlefire. He twisted quickly through the water, spinning as he swam so that at times he was swimming upside down. Then his paws touched the lake bottom and he began walking.

He headed immediately towards the merpeople's village, needing the comfort of their undemanding presence. He met a little mergirl along the way, who grabbed onto one of his horns so that she was pulled along with him. She was the same that had given him the blue flower that had yet to wilt, and who had become a friend of sorts during his many visits. Her name was a high musical note that twisted into a low sound. It was beautiful, and he often made her laugh when he tried to repeat the sound. She grinned at him, her teeth not altogether different from a shark and when they entered the village she tugged him in different directions, leading him along.

He smiled inside as the merpeople called out their musical greetings. They had grown accustomed to his appearances, and only the children swarmed him now, often clinging to a part of him as the little girl was doing. She seemed unusually cheerful today, keeping up a constant symphony of twittering notes. She led him to the flower field, and a few of the children twisted off to play in the blue field. He shifted back then, joining them in a game of keep-away using a large orange conch shell.

He played with them for a while, stress nearly forgotten. After a bit his stomach growled and he turned to the little girl. He offered a low, smooth sound to her that he had heard enough to know meant fish, and she stared at him, shock on her face. The laughing of the other children had stopped, and when he looked he discovered they had stopped playing with him and were staring at him. A high, sharp note sounded through the air, and the kids swam away, towards a merwoman with a blue tail that was speckled with gold scales. He recognized her, knowing from his observations that she was the merchief's partner.

She approached him, her face drawn, and watched him a moment before speaking. Then she made the sound for fish. She repeated it a few times and Harry listened in confusion. Then, he copied her, making the sound with a bit of effort. Her face showed surprise, and what he thought was victory, and she grasped his hand gently, leading him away. He let her, confused, but supposed he didn't care too much about the oddity of the situation so long as she fed him fish.

The sight of their leader's wife leading him through the village by the hand seemed to catch the merpeople's curiosity, and many of the adults began following them. A few of them spoke, the words hanging at the ends with lilting tones in what he realized were questions. The chief's wife responded to them, her voice more like brass wind chimes than the flute he had likened the little girl's voice to. Her response was short, a deep note followed by a few soft high notes.

It didn't seem to answer their questions, but only catch more of their curiosity, and more of them began to follow. She led him to the chief, who floated in place near a few other mermen, and was speaking to them in low tones with a voice that made Harry think of a bass guitar. He looked up as they approached, his expression morphing into concern. The other people stopped a couple meters behind them, and Harry and the merwoman went to him on their own. She let go of his hand then, and harry stood there awkwardly, water making his hair move about his face like fuzzy seaweed.

She spoke to the man in low tones and he turned to Harry with a drawn expression. He raised his voice, speaking in fast, drumming notes to the merpeople. Whatever he said seemed to cause them all to speak at once, the musical voices spinning and twisting in the water around Harry and making his head hurt. The chief then raised a hand, and they grew silent. He came close to Harry, until he was close enough to touch, and he looked down at him with judging eyes. He was broader than most of the other mermen, with short green hair that was also different than the typical long haired males Harry had observed. His eyes were a sharp grey that he likened to Lucius Malfoy. The scales of his tail were a combination of green, gold, and orange.

He seemed to have finished observing Harry after a moment, and spoke. Like his wife had, the merman repeated the word for fish a few times and then waited until Harry repeated it. He stumbled over the sound, nervous, and the merman scoffed. Harry's eyes narrowed and he repeated it, louder this time and completely clear. The merman started, and looked more carefully at him. Harry knew his face showed his irritation, but he didn't care. Whispering notes broke out around them, and finally the merman smiled.

The smile eased Harry's irritation, and the chief's wife pulled him to her side. The chief spoke to the crowd of merpeople around them for a few minutes, his voice booming through the water like thunder, and when he finished he waved a hand and the merpeople began to swim away, returning to their business, and speaking with excitement and happiness. The little mergirl lingered, watching him with a smile, but soon swam off as well. Harry found himself led away by the chief and his wife to a large building with shining red stones molded into it in twisting patterns. There was an open archway, curtained with black seaweed, and the chief pushed it aside and entered. Harry and the merwoman followed, and he looked around in interest.

It was the same smooth brown stone on the inside as on the out. There were a few archways, one revealing what looked like a tunnel going downwards. There were giant clam-type shells laid into the walls of a violet shade, and the chief went over to one of them. Some of the stone came up out of the center of the circular room and formed into a raised bowl. There were holes spaced around the rim with seaweed running through them and covering the bowl. Harry looked at it in wonder.

A few soft notes made him look at the merwoman. She looked from the bowl to him with a soft smile and swam over to it. She motioned him to come near, and he did so cautiously. The woman unwrapped one of the seaweed pieces and lifted it out of the way to show him. He looked in and started.

It was filled with five or so eggs. They were each the size of a human baby, and had a soft, baby-blue shell. He stared at them, and felt a warm feeling inside. He understood now, these were their children, their babies, not yet born from their eggs into the world around them. He touched one gently, a soft expression on his face, and the merwoman smiled and pulled him away, retying the seaweed to keep the eggs in place. A drum-like note caught his attention and he looked up.

The chief stood by the shell, which was open, revealing that they were containers. This one held a shiny white plant, similar to seaweed, and the merman pulled a small piece out, closing the shell afterwards. He reached a hand out to Harry, and he came forward. The mermand handed him the plant, and then motioned eating. He looked dubiously at the plant, but felt he would probably offend the man if he didn't obey. It tasted like raspberries mixed with seaweed; certainly not the best thing he'd eaten. He gagged, but swallowed it all.

He soon wished he hadn't though, as a burning began in his throat. He choked, feeling as though a hot poker had been stabbed into his neck. It seemed as though his gills could no longer take in air from the water and he gasped for breath. It was no use, and soon the edges of his vision were going dark. The last thing he felt as the blackness carried him away was hands pulling him down.

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Evanescant liquida- vanish liquid (a spell to clean spills)

Pinnam arma- feather armor (a lightweight but effective armor)

Irrefragabiles lapis- unbreakable stone (a meltable stone that is undamageable through nonmagical means)

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Ok, so, Snape needed to find out. Fred and George, while excellent confidants and friends/brothers for Harry, are not in a position of authority, and there is more that Snape can do to help him than they can. So that's that. On another note, we seem to have a bit of a cliffhanger here, and I hope you'll forgive me for that, but it seemed, at the time, an excellent place to end the chapter. I hope you liked it so far, and I promise to update promptly next Monday.

Have a good week,

Sincerely,

Mr. Hate

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