Chapter 22
Christmas at Grimmauld Place
(Opening song #2. Ｗ●ＲＫ by Millennium Parade, ft Sheena Ringo)
(Morning in the Gryffindor common rooms)
Morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the Gryffindor common room, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. The fire in the hearth was already crackling, providing warmth and a cozy atmosphere. However, despite the cozy appearance the tension in the room was palpable, as Harry, Ron, Hermoine, and the rest of D.A. members in Gryffindor discussed the plan moving forward in light of The Dark Triad's move against Dumbledore.
"So, we're essentially on lockdown for the rest of the year," Ginny said with frustration in her voice. "No meetings, no training, nothing?"
Hermione, who sat next to Harry, frowned at Ginny's words. "It's not just about the lack of D.A. meetings, Ginny," she said, her voice firm. "The Triad's message has put Dumbledore in a difficult position. Umbridge and the Ministry are already suspicious, and this just gives them more ammunition to use against him. I wouldn't be surprised if Umbridge is already calling in Ministry officials to investigate."
"How'd they even find out about the D.A to begin with or what "D.A" even stood for" Dean asked
There was a moment of silence as the group considered Dean's question. Finally, Fred spoke up.
"Someone must have leaked it," he suggested, his voice low. "Maybe someone in D.A. couldn't keep their mouth shut about our meetings."
George, who was sitting nearby, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's the only way they could've found out."
Neville, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke up. "But who would do that?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"I don't think it was anyone from Gryffindor at least," Ron said
"Yeah, I doubt any of us would have told," Harry added, his thoughts swirling with speculation.
Hermione thought for a moment before speaking up. "It could have been someone from the other Houses. Or maybe..."
"What is it, Hermione?" Ginny asked, leaning forward curiously.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, her mind racing. "It's probably just a theory," she said, her tone hesitant. "But...I wonder if the Triad has someone on the inside."
"What? You said they were new students, didn't ya? How would they be able to gain someone's trust that quickly?" Dean asked perplexed
"It's not impossible," Hermione explained. "They're new, yes, but that doesn't mean one of their allies isn't already a student of Hogwarts. They always seem to be a step ahead of us, and maybe that's the reason why."
"But...who could that person be?" Dean asked starting to get worried
"That's the question, isn't it?" Fred mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
The group fell into silence again, each lost in their own thoughts about the possibility of a traitor among them.
"Maybe they had a sleeper agent that was sent here years ago?" Hermione suggested, her mind already working through the possibilities. "Someone we wouldn't suspect, someone who knows us fairly well. They could have been feeding information to the Triad the entire time"
The room fell silent as the group considered Hermione's words. The idea of a spy in their midst
was unsettling, and the thought that someone they knew might be involved was even more disturbing.
"We at least know it's not any of us here. Each of us is always around each other at all times." Harry said.
"And I doubt it's anyone in Hufflepuff," Neville chimed in. "Hufflepuffs aren't exactly the type to betray their own."
"That leaves the Ravenclaws," Fred said darkly.
Harry grimaced at the words. They had managed to recruit only a few since most of the Ravenclaw students Cho and Luna knew were on the fence about joining, and he didn't even want to consider the option that Cho might be the traitor. The mere thought of it was almost too hard to fathom.
Ron chewed on his lip, deep in thought. "You think one of the Ravenclaws could be passing information like that?"
Hermione shrugged slightly. " We can't rule it out just because we don't want to believe it."
"Then it's even more of a reason not to hold D.A. meetings. We need to find this traitor in our group" Harry said.
"But, Harry-"
"We only had one or two opportunities to hold a meeting anyway before the winter break," Harry said cutting Katie off "For no, we should use this time to regroup and keep a close eye on the Ravenclaw students in the D.A."
"Agreed, finding the person who leaked the existence of the D.A. takes priority. I suggest we split up and each keep tabs on a Ravenclaw student apart of our group" Hermoine said.
"Right," Neville said nodding his head. "I'll watch Luna, I'm probably the closest to her out of everyone here."
"I'll take Michael since we're dating," Ginny said, Ron gave a sidelong glance at her still not approving of him.
"I'll take Terry Boot," Fred chimed in.
"And I'll keep an eye on Anthony Goldstein," George added.
"I'll watch Cho" Harry finally said darkly, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. Everyone turned to Harry with worried expressions written all over their faces.
"Mate, you sure you want to take on Cho? I mean, given...everything between you two recently?" Ron asked.
"No, I don't," Harry said "but I'm the closest to her out of everyone here. If someone has to watch her, it has to be me"
"Just be careful, yeah? You know how Cho can get." Ron said.
"I know, especially after that fight we had," Harry said grimacing at the memory of the vision he got in the middle of an argument with her
Yeah, that wasn't exactly easy to forget," Ron said dryly, referencing the fact that he was there for the entire thing.
Ginny took a seat next to Harry, looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and determination. "I know this isn't easy for you Harry, but if anyone can pull this off it's you."
"Thanks, Ginny," he said, forcing a smile, betraying anxiety at the thought of having to watch Cho closely. Not as his girlfriend, but as an enemy.
"Well you and I are in the same boat it seems like, figured you could use the support," she said with a small smile
Harry chuckled dryly at her comment, knowing that Ginny was probably feeling just as bad about having to keep tabs on Michael Corner.
"Yeah, I guess we are," he said.
Hermione, who had been listening to the conversation, decided to jump in at that moment.
"Alright everyone, I think we're all clear on our assignments. Let's keep a low profile and report any suspect behavior as soon as possible."
"Well on that, Katie, Ginny, let's get going. We have Quidditch practice" Angelia said
Katie and Ginny nodded in agreement and stood up from their seats.
"Right, let's go," Ginny said, her competitive spirit flaring up at the mention of Quidditch practice.
"You found replacements for us already?" Harry asked referring to him, Fred, and George. "and you're one of them Ginny?
Ginny looked slightly abashed but then nodded quickly. "Yeah, we've got a few people who can fill in for us," she said, looking toward Angelina and the other Gryffindor Quidditch players.
"And yeah, I'm one of them," she added, a flicker of pride crossing her features.
"What position?" he asked his interest piqued
"Seeker," she replied, pridefully. "I've been practicing a lot, and Angelina thinks I'm good enough to replace you."
Harry gaped at her.
"Yeah, I know," said Angelina, pulling out her wand and flexing her arm, "She's surprisingly
good, actually. Nothing on you, of course," she said, throwing him a very dirty look, "but as
we can't have you thanks to Umbridge, she's going to be the key to winning the cup. "
Harry bit back the retort he was longing to utter: did she imagine for a second that he did not regret his expulsion from the team a hundred times more than she did?
"And what about the Beaters?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.
"Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke," Angelina said, glancing over to two burly sixth-years who were standing nearby. "They're not brilliant, but they're strong so they'll have to do." Harry could tell she still wasn't thrilled about the new recruits. He sighed and looked directly at her. ""Angelina, I'm sorry. If I hadn't let Malfoy provoke me the way he did Umbridge-"
"Don't even go there, Harry," she said firmly. "I'm still mad, yeah, but Ginny's a damn good replacement. You should-."
."No, let me say it" Harry cut her off "I need to say it." she fell silent, looking at Harry sympathetically as he gathered his thoughts.
"If I hadn't let Malfoy provoke me the way he did. Umbridge would have never kicked us off the team. I let everyone down, and I'm sorry for that" Harry said. As words left his mouth he felt his chest lighten and his thoughts became more clear.
Angelina softened, her expression no longer angry but understanding. "I appreciate the apology, Harry," she said.
"Yeah, we can't put all the blame on you," George added, giving Harry a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"And to be fair mate, we went after him first," Fred interjected.
"And you're still in the dog house for it, Fred" Angelina said giving a sidelong glance
"Ah, come on Angie, surely you've forgiven me by now," he said placing a hand on his heart faking offense
."Fat chance," she replied, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips that contradicted her grumpy tone."Now if you'll excuse us. Were off the practice with what little time we have left until Snape starts complaining about us "hogging the pitch" as he puts it"
Good luck with him, always the grumpy bastard that one" Geroge said as they watched Angelina, Ron, Katie, and Ginny leave the empty common room
Hermione, spoke up, breaking the silence as the boys watched as the portrait closed behind the four members of the new Quidditch team. "Alright, let's get down to business," she said. "Let's find this traitor in our midst."
Harry nodded. "Right," he said his voice now taking a serious tone. "We split up and watch the Ravenclaws in the D.A. Make it look natural, and remember don't make it obvious that we're spying on them."
Hermione nodded in agreement, a look of determination on her face. " We all have our assignments, so let's get moving."
She then began to gather up her books and supplies, which were scattered across the coffee table. Neville stood up as well, stretching his arms above his head.
"I have a feeling this is going to be a long few weeks," he said, groaning slightly at the thought
"Unfortunately, you're probably right about that," Harry agreed. The rest of them then split up and proceeded to go to the person they had chosen to keep tabs on. As he walked he felt a lead lump forming in his stomach, knowing that a conversation with Cho would be an awkward one.
(Three Weeks Later, Winter Break, Grimmauld Place)
Three weeks had passed, and the D.A. had successfully managed to keep a low profile since its temporary hiatus, but they unsuccessfully had gotten any new information on possible suspects for the traitor in their midst. Cho hadn't even talked to Harry at all in those three weeks, only able to get a small wave, or a "I'm busy, we should talk later." At least, however, they were on friendly terms. Harry also found out that we would be spending the break over with Sirius Hermoine, and Weasleys at Grimmauld Place, much to his relief. He didn't know if he could go back to live with Dursleys six months earlier than he already did. Especially with what happened to Dudley.
Sirius was delighted at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help, so that by the time they all went to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognizable.
The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius's family tree from view and even the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards.
Harry awoke on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents at the foot of his bed and Ron already halfway through opening his own, rather larger, pile.
"Good haul this year," he informed Harry through a cloud of paper. "Thanks for the Broom Compass, it's excellent; beats Hermiones - she got me a homework planner -Why did she have to get me something that nags at me?"
Harry sorted through his presents and found one with Hermione's handwriting on it. She had given him, too, a book that resembled a diary except that every time he opened a page it said aloud things like: 'Do it today or later you'll pay!'
Harry chuckled at the book's nagging tone. "Thanks, Hermione," he said, rolling his eyes lightheartedly.
Sirius and Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had superb, moving color illustrations of all the counter jinxes and hexes it described. Harry flicked through the first volume eagerly; he could see it was going to be highly useful in his plans for the DA. Hagrid had sent a furry brown wallet that had fangs, which were presumably supposed to be an anti-theft device, but unfortunately prevented Harry putting any money in without getting his fingers ripped off. Tonks's present was a small, working model of a Firebolt, which Harry watched fly around the room, wishing he still had his full-size version; Ron had given him an enormous box of Every-Flavour Beans, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley the usual hand-knitted jumper and some mince pies, and Dobby a truly
dreadful painting that Harry suspected had been done by the elf himself. He had just turned it upside-down to see whether it looked better that way when, with a loud crack, Fred and George Apparated at the foot of his bed.
"Merry Christmas," said George. "Don't go downstairs for a bit."
"Why not?" said Ron.
"Mum's crying again," said Fred heavily. "Percy sent back his Christmas jumper."
"Without a note," added George. "Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything."
"Are you serious!?" Ron said in disbelief "He's still acting like Fudge's little puppet even after Dad told him that there was evidence that Umbridge has connections to the Death Eaters?"
"Yep, and Mum's heartbroken," said Fred moving around the bed to look at Harry's portrait. . "She's not stopped since breakfast. She's trying not to show it, but we can tell."
"I don't understand how he could be acting like this. And right after Dad almost died, too!" Geroge said shaking his head in disappointment. "He and Lupin have taken over. Best let them cheer her up before we go down for breakfast, I reckon."
"What's that supposed to be, anyway?" asked Fred, squinting at Dobby's painting. "Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes."
"It's Harry!" said George, pointing at the back of the picture, "says so on the back!"
"Good likeness"' said Fred, grinning. Harry threw his new homework diary at him; it hit the wall opposite and fell to the floor where it said happily: "If you've dotted the "i"s and crossed the "t"s then you may do whatever you please!"
"Oi! almost took my head off with that thing!" Fred laughed.
They got up and dressed. They could hear the various inhabitants of the house calling "Merry
Christmas" to one another. On their way downstairs they met Hermione and broke off from Fred and Geroge.
"Thanks for the book, Harry," she said happily. "I've been wanting that New Theory of Numerology for ages! And that perfume's really unusual, Ron."
"No worries," replied Harry, as Ron looked abashed at the mention of the perfume he had bought for Hermione.
"Yeah, I thought it'd smell nice," Ron muttered, attempting to sound casual." Who's that for, anyway?" he added, nodding at the neatly wrapped present she was carrying.
'Kreacher,' said Hermione brightly.
"It had better not be clothes!" Ron warned her. "You know what Sirius said: Kreacher knows too much, we can't set him free!"
"It isn't clothes," said Hermione, "although if I had my way I'd certainly give him something to wear other than that filthy old rag. No, it's a patchwork quilt, I thought it would brighten up his bedroom."
"What bedroom?" said Harry, dropping his voice to a whisper as they were passing the portrait of Sirius's mother.
"Well, Sirius says it's not so much a bedroom, more a kind of -den," said Hermione. "Apparently he sleeps under the boiler in that cupboard off the kitchen."
Mrs Weasley was the only person in the basement when they arrived there. She was standing at the stove and sounded as though she had a bad head cold as she wished them 'Merry Christmas', and they all averted their eyes.
"So, is this Kreacher's bedroom?" said Ron, strolling over to a dingy door in the corner opposite the pantry. Harry had never seen it open.
"Yes," said Hermione, now sounding a little nervous. "Er… I think we'd better knock."
Ron rapped on the door with his knuckles but there was no reply.
"He must be sneaking around upstairs," he said, and without further ado pulled open the door.
"Urgh!"
Harry peered inside. Most of the cupboard was taken up with a very large and old-fashioned boiler, but in the foot of space underneath the pipes Kreacher had made himself something that looked like a nest. A jumble of assorted rags and smelly old blankets were piled on the floor and the small dent in the middle of it showed where Kreacher curled up to sleep every night. Here and there among the material were stale bread crusts and moldy old bits of cheese. In a far corner glinted small objects and coins that Harry guessed Kreacher had saved, magpie-like, from Sirius's purge of the house, and he had also managed to retrieve the silver-framed family photographs that Sirius had thrown away over the summer. Their glass might be shattered, but still, the little black-and-white people inside them peered up at him haughtily, including - he felt a little jolt in his stomach - the dark, heavy-lidded woman whose trial he had witnessed in Dumbledore's Pensieve: Bellatrix Lestrange. By the looks of it, hers was Kreacher's favorite photograph; he had placed it to the fore of all the others and had mended the glass clumsily with Spellotape.
If a loud crack, Kreacher suddenly Apperated from behind the boiler. "What do you think you are doing in KREACHER'S ROOM?!" he exclaimed.
"Sorry, just thought you'd like this," said Hermione nervously.
Kreacher turned his dull, small eyes on Hermione. "The mudblood brings Kreacher a present," he said, his fingers digging into the side of the rag he seemed to be using as a pillow.
"Don't call her a mudblood!" said Ron suddenly, taking an aggressive step forward. "You've got no right to call anyone that!"
"It's fine," said Hermione quickly although trying to hide her grimace at the sound of the word, laying a restraining hand on Ron's arm. "Really, it's fine. Here, Kreacher"
She held out the present, a little tentative in the face of the elf's forbidding expression. He took the gift from her and unwrapped it revealing a rather shabby-looking patchwork quilt.
"Is this supposed to be some sort of joke?" he said slowly, looking up at Hermione.
"No," she said, "Of course not. I just thought-"
"Kreacher does not need thieving mudblood hand-me-downs," said the elf, tossing the quilt aside.
"Come on Hermoine let's just go, Ungrafeful piece of shite," Ron said angrily at the elf, as he stormed off. Harry scowled at Kreacher and followed Ron leaving Hermoine and Kreacher alone.
"Ungrateful brats, giving me a hand-me-down quilt" Kreacher grumbled, looking at his old ragged rag, as he turned to go into his den, and proceeded to shut the door to the boiler.
"Aut alchor na a adaneth sui Lestrange sui a aenil? Cin're gurgo na mín núr alfkin" Hermoine said coldly, her regular demeanor had completely shifted, replaced with a serious and spiteful tone. What Kreacher heard was "Pathetic. Worshipping a human like the Lestrange as a goddess? You're a disgrace to our kind, elf."
Kreacher froze with the door halfway open, the words forcing him to stop dead in his tracks, and a look of absolute shock plastered on his face. She had spoken his native tongue, a language that he had thought been lost to the ages
"Man… cin carfa (What… did you just say)?!" he said back in the old elf tongue, dumbfounded, before slowly turning around to face Hermoine. When he saw her face, his face twisted to a horrified expression. He backed away toward his den door. The sight in front of him, an old language that he had not heard for a very long, a language only his kind spoke, mixed with the markings on her face and her eye color change, only brought one thought to his mind, that of house elf legend.
"Aes sídhe… Folk of Avalon" he muttered "Y-You... You're not the mudblood… Who are you!?" He stammered in a shaky voice, eyes darting to the markings and back on her face, not quite sure on how to react.
Hermione's eyes turned back to normal and the red markings disappeared. She shook her head. "I'm sorry I got lost in thought for a minute there. Did you say something?"
Kreacher just sat there dumbfounded, unsure if the markings and eyes had been a trick of the mind.
Slowly after gaining his bearings, he shook his head and responded in a still shaky voice. "N-no... I didn't say anything."
"Oh, well, I hope you enjoy your gift. Merry Christmas, Kreacher" she said cheerfully, as she stood up and went to join Harry and Ron
Kreacher watched her go, still a little shell-shocked from the whole experience. Once she was gone, he looked down at the quilt on the floor. He paused for a moment, then slowly bent down to pick it up. He held it against his chest, feeling the rough fabric with his fingers.
"Merry... Christmas..." he said, still in a daze
(Hours Later)
The afternoon wore on, and Harry, Ron. and Hermoine spent their time engaging in a series of board games with Siruis, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and Mungdungus. Fred and George had invited a number of their friends to stay and the house began to fill once more with laughter and celebrations.
For the first time in his life, Harry was not looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. Going back to school would mean placing himself once again under the tyranny of Dolores Umbridge, who had no doubt managed to force through another dozen decrees in their absence; there was no Quidditch to look forward to now that he had been banned; there was every likelihood that their burden of homework would increase as the exams drew even nearer; Dumbledore remained as remote as ever, and of course, the thought of dealing with The Dark Triad again almost soured his day.
For now, though, Harry let go of all of it and enjoyed the distraction of the visitors; with them all, the silence of the house was filled to bursting. The house party continued, as everyone spent a joyous time celebrating Christmas. Laughter echoed through the house and a cheerful ambiance settled over the partygoers. As time passed some of the guests began to leave, while some went to sleep.
Harry, meanwhile, was having a particularly good time playing Wizard chess with Ron, who sat opposite him. Ginny sat next to Harry, observing the game, while Hermoine was shaking her head disapprovingly at Ron when he suggested a move to make.
"Harry, dear," said Mrs Weasley, poking her head into the living room "could you come down to the kitchen? Professor Snape would like a word with you."
Harry did not immediately register what she had said; one of his castles was engaged in a violent tussle with a pawn of Rons and he was egging it on enthusiastically.
"Squash him - squash him, he's only a pawn, you idiot. Sorry, Mrs Weasley, what did you say?"
"Professor Snape, dear. In the kitchen. He'd like a word."
Harry's mouth fell open in horror. He looked around at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all ofwhom were gaping back at him. Crookshanks, whom Hermione had been restraining with difficulty for the past quarter of an hour, leapt gleefully onto the board and set the pieces running for cover, squealing at the top of their voices.
"Snape?" said Harry blankly.
" Professor Snape, dear," said Mrs Weasley reprovingly. "Now come on, quickly, he says he can't stay long."
"What's he want with you?" said Ron, looking unnerved as Mrs Weasley withdrew from the room. "You haven't done anything, have you?"
"My mere existence is a crime in Snape's eyes," Harry said flatly, racking his brains to think what he could have done that would make Snape pursue him to Grimmauld Place. Had his last piece of homework perhaps earned a T?
A minute or two later, he pushed open the kitchen door to find Sirius and Snape both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike. A letter lay open on the table in front of Sirius.
"Er," said Harry, to announce his presence.
Snape looked around at him, his face framed between curtains of greasy black hair.
"Sit down, Potter."
"You know," said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."
An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table.
"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth,"'but Black -"
"I'm his godfather," said Sirius, louder than ever
"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," said Snape, whose voice, by contrast, was becoming more and more quietly waspish, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel… involved."
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Sirius, letting his chair fall back onto all four legs with a loud bang.
"Merely that I am sure you must feel - ah - frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing Useful," Snape laid a delicate stress on the word, "for the Order."
It was Sirius's turn to flush. Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to Harry. "The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."
"Study what?" said Harry blankly.
Snape's sneer became more pronounced.
"Occlumency, Potter. The magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."
"So he can't mess with my head," Harry said darkly.
Snape looked both surprised and irritated that he had grasped the concept so quickly.
"You have been dreaming about the Dark Lord, Potter?" he asked quietly
"No, not since that vision. I overheard a conversation with Moody, about him possibly possessing me, and Dumbledore never denied it. We were in his office before the fires broke out in the Great Hall" Harry said.
"Then I am surprised you haven't already learned Occlumency yourself, given the circumstances", said Snape in a scathing tone. "The Headmaster thinks it a good idea. You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?"
"Yes," said Harry. "Who's going to be teaching me?"
Snape raised an eyebrow.
"I am," he said.
Harry had the horrible sensation that his insides were melting.
Extra lessons with Snape - what on earth had he done to deserve this? He looked quickly
round at Sirius for support.
"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" asked Sirius aggressively. "Why you?"
'I never begged for the job, but i suppose it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks,' said Snape silkily. 'And the fact, the Headmaster will be standing trial for a few weeks, thanks to that group you kept hidden from us" He finished with a sneer.
He got to his feet. "I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."
He turned to leave, his black traveling cloak billowing behind him.
"Wait a moment," said Sirius, sitting up straighter in his chair. Snape turned back to face them, sneering.
"I am in rather a hurry, Black. Unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time."
"Til get to the point, then," said Sirius, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape who, Harry noticed, balled his fist in the pocket of his cloak over what Harry was sure was the handle of his wand. "If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to."
"How touching," Snape sneered."'But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?"
"Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly.
"Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly.
Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he went. Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looked livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius's wand tip to his face.
"Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him.
"I've warned you, Snivdlus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better -"
"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months?"
"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
"Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform… gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in the future, didn't it?"
Sirius raised his wand.
"NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them. "Sirius, don't!"
"Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge.
"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.
"Harry-get-out-of-it!" snarled Sirius, pushing him aside with his free hand.
"Merlin's beard," said Mr Weasley, stepping into the kitchen, his bandaged face looking on in disbelief, "what's going on here?"
Both Sirius and Snape lowered their wands. Harry looked from one to the other. Each wore an expression of utmost contempt, yet the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses. Snape pocketed his wand, turned on his heel, and swept back across the kitchen, passing the Weasleys without comment. At the door, he looked back. "Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter."
And he was gone. Sirius glared after him, his wand at his side.
Great, Harry thought to himself, more Snape after the break, and god pisses in my dinner yet again, Harry thought himself.