Classical music floated through the Great Hall from the phonograph that was a staple to study hours in the Great Hall. As it was a Wednesday, it was Ravenclaw's turn to choose the study music, and someone had chosen a record of Giuseppe Accardi, an Italian composer from the 1800s. According to Hannah Abbott, who was the musical prodigy in the group, he had been heavily involved with the wizarding side of the Young Italians as they made a bit for an independent Italy. His musical works were meant to evoke Italian patriotism and romanticism and had done much in ensuring the Italian wizarding community backed Italian independence.
Blaise had seemed a bit put out that Hannah had known more about Italian history than he had, but Daphne pointed out rather snidely, that he may be half-Italian, but there was only so much he could learn when he only spent one month a year in Italy.
Tracey had had to separate the two.
Aria's group of 5th year friends took up a section of what was normally the Gryffindor table as they spread out their study materials and the OWL pamphlets Hermione had ordered from the ministry. Most had worked hard to get a head of their homework so that they could take the time today to go through the OWL pamphlets and create a study group schedule for their OWL revisions. Aria had been tasked with Potions, Lavender and Parvati with Divination, Seamus and Dean with Care of Magical Creatures, Neville with Herbology, Susan with Transfiguration, and Hannah with Charms. Ernie volunteered to take Astronomy while Justin volunteered to do Ancient Runes with Daphne, and Hermione and Lisa were taking Arithmancy. Padma was the lone holdout for Muggle Studies, but Lisa, Aria, and Hermione all said they would help her (and probably be much better than whatever Professor Burbage thought passed for Muggle Studies). Harry, of course, was taking Defense though with some protest.
"I don't think I'd be very good at teaching anyone," Harry said to Hermione who had all but ordered Harry to teach the DADA study group.
"Have you tried teaching?"
"Well . . . no, but—,"
"But nothing, Harry Potter! You're the best in our year and the only hope we have to passing our Defense OWLs!"
"That's a bit dramatic, Hermione—," he cut off at his friend's glare. "Sorry."
The music suddenly cut off and every head looked over to the phonogram. Umbridge hummed as she removed the record from the phonogram and placed it back into its cover.
"Educational Decree Number 6," she stated for all to hear. "Music may not be played in the Great Hall or common rooms during study hours."
"Seriously?" Cedric's voice rang out over everyone's heads. "What's the harm to a little music while studying?"
"Detention, Mr. Diggory!" Umbridge snapped. "There is no need to be so uncooperative. Studying should be done in silence. Music only distracts you."
"Cedric loves listening to music," Susan whispered to her friends.
"Muggles have studies that show that listening to classical music while studying is actually very beneficial," Hermione whispered. "But I doubt Professor Umbridge is interested in that."
"You all will have to rearrange yourselves as well," Umbridge stated, looking around at the dozens of students gathered from all seven years. "Educational Decree Number 8. Boy and girl students should never be closer than 6 inches to each other. Boy and girl students may not share desk space or lab space."
This time, too many students erupted in protest for her to be able to identify people for detentions.
"Enough!" Umbridge shouted. "I will have order!"
The students fell into a bitter silence, glaring at the High Inquisitor.
"Thank you," she said, much more quietly, and with the return of her smile that always creeped Aria out. It was like the woman as trying to pretend that she was approachable while all the while deciding how she was going to kill you. Or at least, make your life a living hell.
"Boys and girls distract each other from important work," Umbridge stated. "For too long, the professors and headmaster here have allowed you to be too familiar with each other. If Hogwarts is to be succeed, we must return to the proper way of things. So, please arrange yourselves so that you are all 6 inches apart and are not sharing workspaces."
"What is a workspace in the Great Hall?" Seamus whispered as the students all looked at each other, wondering if they should even comply with the ridiculous rule. "We're all at one long table."
"Why is no one moving?" Umbridge demanded. "I have given instructions and expect them to be obeyed."
Slowly, students began to shift themselves until there were six inches between them.
Daphne bravely raised her hand.
"Professor," she said, "you mentioned Educational Decrees 6 and 8, but what is Educational Decree 7?"
Maybe there wasn't one, Aria thought. Maybe Professor Umbridge was just really bad at math.
"Students are not allowed to use a broom to fly unless actively participating in Quidditch or Flying Lessons," Umbridge replied. More students complained and she whirled about to glare around the hall. The room immediately fell silent as no one wanted to get a detention, even if it was just writing lines as Harry said it was. There were a few other students who had gotten detention after Harry, but like him, all they had had to do was write lines. Though they, Aria had learned after some questions, had not been kept after curfew.
Pleased at the silence, Umbridge strolled out of the Great Hall with her head held high in triumph, unaware or purposely ignoring the glares from the students that followed her.
"I can't believe she's keeping us from flying!" Ron cried. Ron, who had made back-up Keeper for Gryffindor and was consistently taking the time outside of classes and Quidditch practice to hone his skills with Ginny and the twins once all homework was done. "What's so got against flying?"
"I don't think anything about this has to make sense," Hermione told her. "Because it's not about making sense. At least not for her. I think it's about power. She likes having the ability to make arbitrary rules and have people obey them and Dumbledore's letting her get away with it because he doesn't wand Fudge breathing any harder down his neck!"
Further tirade was interrupted by a second year appearing at their table and holding out a note to Aria.
"From the headmaster," the boy said. Aria curiously unrolled the note.
Please come to my office as soon as possible. I like Peppermint Patties.
-Headmaster Dumbledore
"What could he possibly want?" Tracey wondered.
"Probably wants to talk to Aria 'bout those protection amulets she made for the Champions," Ron said with a lowered voice. "He came over to dinner this summer and was quite interested in them."
Aria sighed.
"Best get it over with then," she muttered, scooping all her things into her bag.
"I'll come with you," Harry insisted, hurrying to pack up his things, nearly knocking over Padma's pink ink well. "Professor Snape doesn't want us going anywhere on our own, remember?"
"How can I forget?" Aria muttered. "But we've got to walk six inches apart remember." Harry rolled his eyes as they made their way out of the Great Hall and up the moving staircases towards the headmaster's office. At the gargoyle, Aria gave the Peppermint Patties password, and the two friends climbed the revealed staircase to the top.
"Good afternoon, Miss Bourne," Dumbledore greeted. "Ah, Mr. Potter! Did I call you to my office as well?"
"Professor Snape doesn't want either of us going anywhere alone," Harry said. "He thinks Umbridge may try to make trouble if we're alone."
"Very wise of Professor Snape. However, I do have to have a private conversation with Miss Bourne so you can wait outside the door at the top of the stairs, that way, Umbridge will not find you."
Harry hesitated. Aria nudged him.
"I'll be fine," she whispered. "It doesn't look too serious." Harry sighed but stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him. In the silence that followed his departure, Aria was aware of Dumbledore's gaze, those twinkling blue eyes seemingly studying her as she glanced around the office. The last time she had been in this office, she had been drugged and made to compete in the Second Task. Before that, it was when she had been dragged across the courtyard by her hair during Flying Lessons. Neither time had she gotten a good look around the place.
Magical knickknacks dotted the room and the bookshelves that made up most of the wall space. Her hands itched to take down the tomes and study them for herself. Fawkes' perch was empty which meant he was off doing his own thing. A great many portraits rose up along a side wall, the portraits staring down at Aria from great heights.
"Ah, I see you've noticed the past headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. "Someday I too will hang there. The portraits go back to the Founders. Most of them sleep and only awaken when I have need of them. Of course, a few were painted and never animated which is quite sad."
Aria thought some of the headmasters and headmistresses looked quite angry in their portraits.
"So . . . what did you want to see me about?" Aria asked. "Am I in trouble?" She sat where the headmaster indicated.
"No," he replied. "Would you like a lemon drop?"
"No, thank you," Aria said. Lemon drops were too sour and, quite frankly, after last year, there was no way she was going to accept food and drink from the man.
"Very well. I've called you here because I wished to speak to you about the protection amulets that you created for the Champions last year."
Immediately Aria was on alert. What did he want to know? Did he suspect that she had used the Elixir of Life? Why was he interested now?
"What about them?" Aria asked, hoping her voice didn't give away her nerves.
"I was simply wondering about them. How did you go about creating them?"
"Well, I followed the instructions that were in the Ancient Runes textbooks," Aria answered. "There was a whole chapter on protective runes and how to create basic protection amulets."
Dumbledore nodded but seemed unsatisfied with her answer.
"Was that all you did with them?" he asked. "Was there a special . . . additional incantation that you did with them, or did you use a special metal?"
"No," Aria replied with a shake of her head, trying to appear confused by the questions. "I just got four necklaces in the metal the textbook suggested, and which were big enough for me to draw the runes. I'm not goo as making them very small yet."
Dumbledore hummed, fiddling with a trinket on his desk. It pulsed lightly, alternating between a saturated green and a lighter, nearly white light green.
"Miss Bourne," Dumbledore said, "I wish you would be more forthcoming with me. It is because of you that Cedric Diggory managed to escape certain death. If you were to tell me exactly what you did that allowed Mr. Diggory to survive the Killing Curse, then it could be replicated, and a great many people could be saved in the upcoming war."
"I don't know what you want me to say," Aria said, knowing exactly what Dumbledore wanted her to say. "I just made them the same way that the textbook told me to."
"Miss Bourne—,"
"Headmaster, I wish I could be more help. I really do. But I've told you everything that I know about the protection amulets. I made them, I gave them, and at least one saved my friend's life. That's all I know." She shrugged, hoping she looked perplexed. Dumbledore sighed, a short huff that caused the twinkle in his eyes to disappear. Aria glanced around the office again, feign curiosity, hoping that he wouldn't try and perform Legilimancy on her again. Hopefully he wasn't that stupid to try it when it was just her and him. Though if he could wipe memories . . .
"Very well then," Dumbledore said after a few moments. "If that is how you want to be. Just know that a great many deaths could possibly be avoided if you cooperated."
Aria hurried from the room, nearly bowling over Harry outside the door. Was what Dumbledore said true? Would it be her fault that people died if she didn't tell someone how to create the amulets? Creating them involved the Elixir of Life, and she doubted Flamel bequeathed the recipe to her because he wanted her to go about spreading it around the world for anyone to make. And if she offered to make the amulets and it got out that it used the Elixir of Life, then people might try and force her to make them amulets too and that would put a bigger target on her back.
She really needed to talk with Professor Snape about this.
"There is an angry Badger outside wishing to speak to Mr. Potter."
Salazar Slytherin's voice interrupted the quiet of the common room. Curfew had passed not one hour ago, which meant that the entirety of Slytherin House was in quiet hours. To have someone show up at the portrait asking to see someone was rare enough, but an hour after curfew?
Harry, who was sitting next to Aria reading Treasure Island, glanced at her in confusion.
"A badger?" he questioned.
"Probably a Hufflepuff," Aria said. "Maybe it's Susan? Can't imagine it'd be anyone else."
"He is quite insistent that he see you now," Salazar stated, sounding very put out. "Please do something so that he goes away."
"Definitely not Susan then," Harry said, marking his place and tossing the book onto the nearby coffee table. With the eyes of everyone in the common room on him, Harry made his way to Salazar's portrait and stepped out into the corridor beyond, making sure to shut the portrait shut so that spying ears from within could not hear.
In less than a second his arm was grabbed, and Cedric Diggory shook him hard, rattling more than just his teeth. Harry stared wide-eyed at the older student, unsure what to do with the angry expression on the usually mild boy's face. Was he going to hit him? His stomach rolled at the thought, and he tried to flick his wand out of its holster into his hand, but Cedric's shaking made it difficult.
"Just lines?" Cedric finally hissed. "That's what you told people after you had the first detention with Umbridge. Just lines?" He stopped shaking Harry, raising his hand. Harry stared at the still bright red back of the seventh year's hand. The words from whatever Umbridge had had him write were still visible though they were slowly fading. It was clear that he had come straight here from detention instead of hiding out until the evidence disappeared like Harry had.
I will be silent towards authority.
"Why the bloody hell didn't you say anything?" Cedric demanded.
"What . . . what would it have done?" Harry stuttered. "No one would've believed me because it would've faded by the time, I managed to find a professor. I'd've just been called a liar. Again."
He had been called a liar multiple times when he lived with the Dursleys. Only once had a teacher attempted to help him, but that had ended up with the teacher leaving soon after and Uncle Vernon taking his belt to Harry's backside and locking him in his cupboard. No one ever believed him when he said that Dudley hurt him on the playground. Everyone had believed Aunt Petunia when she said he got into fights and that's why his glasses were always broken and why he might have a bruise or two on his arms or face.
And now the ministry and the newspapers were calling him a liar. Sirius and Remus tried to keep him from seeing too much of the paper, but he knew what it said. And he knew they were worried, even if they liked to pretend they weren't. He knew he was causing more trouble than he was worth, and he loved them for putting up with him, but he couldn't keep causing so much trouble. He didn't need to keep adding to the burden of taking care of him.
"Harry," Cedric murmured, giving a huge, frustrated sigh.
"And," Harry continued, "I don't want a professor to try and go to bat for me and end up fired by Umbridge and the whole affair swept under the rug." He could just imagine Umbridge firing McGonagall or Snape.
"Only the headmaster or the Board has the authority to dismiss staff," Cedric stated confidently. "No matter how much power Umbitch thinks she has."
Harry choked on spit. Had he heard Cedric correctly? It seemed so out of character for Cedric. Was he feeling all right?
"I am going to inform Professor Sprout," Cedric stated firmly. "I will be telling her that Umbridge has used a Blood Quill on you too and that, I suspect, she has also used it on the few other students who have had detention with her."
Harry frowned.
"A Blood Quill?" Harry questioned.
"It's a quill that uses the blood of the person using it as ink," Cedric stated darkly. "It's a Dark object. We learned about it last year in 6th year NEWTs with Professor Moody. They're highly regulated and used only on the oldest of contrasts offered by Gringotts. It's where the idea of 'signing in blood' comes from."
Harry felt his knees weaken. He had suspected . . . that red ink had looked far too dark to be the usual red ink that the professors used to grade their papers . . . but for it to be his own blood . . .
Abraxas Malfoy suddenly appeared in Harry's sight, coming at him with a ritual dagger as he stood tied and immobile against the headstone . . . the stone was cold and damp, he could feel it seeping through the fabric of the Triwizard uniform . . . a fog rolled through the gravestones, obscuring the pale lights of a hamlet further down the hill in the valley . . . Abraxas drew blood from Harry's arm, the sting sharp, sending shoots of pain up and down Harry's arm, worse than Uncle Vernon's belt . . . carrying the blood on the blade towards to the bubbling cauldron . . .
Cedric shook Harry again. The fifth year took several shuttering breaths, trying to calm his beating heart. His own blood . . . when would people stop trying to bleed him dry?
He was shaking now. Why was he shaking?
Someone was shouting. Why was there shouting? Why did the world suddenly feel smaller and larger at the same time? Was he under water? Why was everything muffled? Why was Cedric spinning? Was that the ceiling?
Why was he on the floor?
Aria leaned over him. She, thankfully, wasn't spinning. She was, however, screaming at Cedric who was shouting back. Daphne appeared just behind Aria then Professor Snape. There was more shouting from Daphne then Blaise who shouted in Italian as Snape leaned over Harry, shining his lit wand in Harry's eyes. Harry suddenly wished his ears would go back to feeling full and blocked so that he didn't have to hear everyone at full volume.
"Can you sit up?" Snape asked.
"I think so," Harry muttered. Snape slid an arm under Harry's shoulders, guiding him into a sitting position. Noticing that he was now no longer laying on the floor, Aria and his friends stopped shouting at Cedric long enough to crouch down and gather around him until he thought someone might accidentally sit in his lap.
"Take this," Snape ordered, pressing a cool vial to Harry's mouth. It's only the trust he has for his Head of House and Aria's magical guardian that keeps him from yanking his head away from the object and obediently he gulps down the potion, recognizing the distinct taste and texture of a Calming Draught.
"Feeling better?" Snape asked after a few seconds. Harry nodded.
"I think Aria's going to need one too," he murmured, feeling a little floaty. Not uncommon with a Calming Draught, he reminded himself, but he had never felt this floaty before.
Snape turned his sharp gaze to the still bickering students, though they were no longer shouting. Their voices were still raised, but not at the levels they once were.
"That's enough!" Snape barked. Silence immediately fell over the dungeons. Aria barely managed to keep herself from glaring at their Head of House, turning her face to the floor instead. Cedric had no qualms with glaring at Aria while Daphne and Blaise glared at the both of them. Faces peered out from the portrait hole. Harry nearly groaned seeing nearly all of Slytherin House pushing and shoving to try and get a glimpse of the drama unfolding outside their common room.
"Did Diggory try to murder Potter?" someone asked.
The tension broke. Cedric snorted. Harry giggled. Snape looked horrified at him. Several students laughed.
"Go back to the common room," Snape ordered, helping Harry to his feet. "Bourne, stop glaring at the floor. Go back inside. Diggory, you're with me." He supported Harry as he led the two boys towards his office door. Aria looked mutinous, as if she wanted to follow but also didn't want to disobey Snape.
"I'll be fine," Harry told Aria. "Promise."
"You say that and then you aren't," Aria retorted, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder, and stalking back into the common room, Daphne and Blaise trailing behind her.
Inside Professor Snape's office, he transfigured one of the straight back chairs in front of his desk into a chaise, settling Harry on it with a sharp look that told Harry to stay put. Then the dour man rounded on Cedric who had taken up a spot standing next to Snape's desk.
"What is the meaning of all this?" Snape demanded. "It is far past curfew for any shenanigans to be happening!"
Harry thought that was laughable. After curfew was the perfect time for shenanigans. He giggled.
Merlin, he felt as high as a kite on this Calming Draught!
"I had detention with Professor Umbridge," Cedric explained.
"Unfortunate, but again, not an excuse to be out after curfew."
"It is if she didn't release me until about twenty minutes ago. I came straight here because I wanted to talk to Harry about his detention to Umbridge. He was the first and all he said was that she had him writing lines."
"Yes, that does seem to be what she does if what I've heard from the few other students is correct."
"Except Harry conveniently forgot to mention that she uses a fucking Blood Quill!" He thrust his hand into Snape's face as the last of his writing finally faded, leaving the back of his hand bright pink. Snape, however, had seen it, and Harry watched with growing trepidation as a storm settled across his professor's face. He half expected to hear thunder.
Snape slowly turned to face Harry. Only the Calming Draught kept him from quivering.
"Mr. Potter," Snape's silky voice was low and very dangerous. "Did Professor Umbridge use a Blood Quill on you during your detention?"
Harry gulped. There was no way he could lie with the man looking at him like that.
"If," he replied, "a Blood Quill is a quill that painfully etches whatever you write on paper into your hand . . . then yes. She used a Blood Quill."
Professor Snape opened his mouth and shut it several times, clearly restraining himself from saying something. Probably several things. After a minute, Professor Snape strode to the Floo in his office, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and tossed it into the embers. There was a brief swoosh of green flames before disappearing. Snape stared in shock at the Floo before taking another handful of powder and tossing it into the embers again. The green flames swooshed again before, once again, disappearing. Harry frowned. That was not usual for Floo Powder. Usually, the flames remained green and then Snape would stick his head into the flames and Aria would have a fit because no one had a satisfactory explanation as to how only the head traveled through the grates without actually detaching from a person's body and Harry would have to listen to her going at some later time about it.
"What's wrong, Professor?" Cedric asked.
"Someone's locked down the Floo network," Snape stated. "As you know, the network is mostly in-house, with the common rooms connected only to their Heads of House, the infirmary, and the headmaster's office. Only the headmaster's Floo is accessible to the public while the rest of us are able to access St. Mungo's and the Auror office."
Harry had not known that, but it made sense. He supposed it was something someone growing up in the wizarding world would have logically concluded, like Cedric, who did not appear surprised by Snape's explanation. He only looked concerned. Worried.
The door to Snape's office opened without warning, allowing entrance to Professor Umbridge. She glanced at Cedric then Harry before allowing her eyes to fix on Snape whose face had slid into a neutral mask of vague inquiry.
"Can I help you, Madam Umbridge?" Snape asked.
"I was informed that you attempted to use your Floo twice and wondered why."
How had she gotten down to the dungeons so quicky? Harry wondered. Had she followed Cedric? Did she know a short cut?
"I was attempting to Floo Madam Pomfrey as Mr. Potter has taken ill," Snape lied smoothly.
"And Mr. Diggory?"
"I'm unclear about where this line of questioning is coming from, Madam," Snape said. "I am attempting to take care of two students as is my responsibility as professor and Head of House and I seem unable to access the in-network Floo system of Hogwarts."
"I shut down the Floo network," Umbridge stated. "Only I have access to it. Hogwarts is in the middle of a ministry investigation, Professor Snape. It would not do to have . . . unwanted interference now, would it?"
If there were no Calming Draught in his system, Harry was certain his heart would be beating out of his chest. Cedric's face paled though the older boy remained stoned face and rigid next to Snape's desk.
"Indeed, Madam," Snape agreed, "but barring access to the hospital wing?"
"Mr. Potter doesn't appear sick."
"That is for me and Madam Pomfrey to decide. Now would you like to explain to Lord Black why his son could not access the proper medical treatments or shall I?"
Umbridge looked at Cedric.
"I think it's time you returned to your common room, Mr. Diggory," she said. "Twenty points for being out after curfew and I think another detention with me tomorrow night should teach you."
Cedric glanced at Snape who jerked his head towards the door in dismissal. Cedric stalked out of the office.
"Now," Umbridge said, turning back to Snape with that sickly sweet smile all the students were starting to hate, "let's be honest with each other, Professor Snape. You do not like Mr. Potter any more than I do. We both understand that he has been allowed to run amok these last few years with very little consequences."
Harry wondered if he ought to be dismissed for this conversation too. What did Umbridge think she was doing saying all this stuff in front of him?
"Your feud with James Potter was quite legendary," Umbridge continued, "how irksome it must be for you to have to watch over and care for the boy of the man who caused you so much trouble while at school."
Harry tried to think if Snape had ever treated him terribly while at Hogwarts. Remus had explained to Harry, when he had been a teacher at Hogwarts, that he and Snape did not get along very well because of how Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter had treated Snape. But even over that school year, both of them had put aside their dislike for each other time and time again to watch over Harry. Never once had Harry felt unsafe with Professor Snape. He had always just been . . . one of the Slytherins. No one special, just Harry. And he really loved Professor Snape for that.
"It has been difficult," Snape said slowly. Harry fought the urge to look at his Head of House. In the end he failed and looked at the man. His face was impassive, unreadable. This was the man, Harry thought, that had managed to survive both Voldemort and Dumbledore. He would survive Umbridge.
"Then I think," Umbridge replied, "that what Lord Black doesn't know won't hurt him."
After a few seconds Snape nodded, and his face morphed into an expression of understanding, as if he were coming to an epiphany.
"I see," he said. "I understand, Professor Umbridge."
"I'm glad we understand each other," Umbridge stated, turning to the door. "There will be great reward, Professor Snape. I shall not forget you. We Slytherins must stick together."
Umbridge had been a Slytherin? Harry felt sick at the thought. Was Aria sleeping in the same bed that Umbridge had once slept in when she was a fifth year? He half hoped Pansy was sleeping in that bed.
Once Umbridge was gone and the door firmly shut behind her, Snape let out a sharp breath, nearly a sigh but not quite.
"How . . . does she think Sirius won't learn about this?" Harry asked. "I could just write to him."
"Like how you wrote to him about the Blood Quill?"
He was back to that? Harry groaned.
"You should've come right to me!" Snape hissed, kneeling down beside the chaise. "You foolish, boy! She could've been out of Hogwarts by now!"
"It's not like anyone would've believed me!" Harry cried. "Fudge would've just added it to the articles in the newspaper as cannon fire against me."
"Blood Quills are not to be trifled with," Snape stated. "Being in possession of one without the proper license would not only give you a hefty fine, but at least one year in Azkaban. Forcing someone to use one? Probably another year or two. Using it on a child? She'd be lucky if she got off with four years in Azkaban."
"Oh. It's that serious then?"
"Yes, Harry, it is that serious! Harming children is always that serious!"
Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around Snape's neck.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Snape cried, trying to disentangle himself from Harry's arms.
"I'm hugging you, Professor. You do know what those are right?"
"Of course, I do you insolent boy! I just don't know why you're attaching yourself to me!"
"Because you're so nice to me. You've always been nice to me. You treat me like everyone else."
"Kindly remove yourself from my person!"
"No, you're warm." Harry leaned against his Head of House. It was almost like being hugged by Sirius, though Sirius would've already hugged him back. Merlin . . . the Calming Draught was really potent.
"I'm beginning to wonder if I accidentally gave you too strong of a Calming Draught," Snape muttered. He finally managed to pull Harry's arms from around him and shone his lit wand in Harry's eyes again.
"Hm . . . perhaps not. This isn't your first Calming Draught and you've never acted like this before . . ."
A sudden idea came to Harry.
"It's the first Calming Draught since Voldemort was removed from my head." He patted his fading scar. Snape looked thoughtful.
"Regardless," Snape said, "I don't think you're at risk of dying from an overdose."
"You can't die from an overdose of Calming Draught."
"Indeed, you can."
"Yeah, but you'd need like . . . a thousand vials!"
Snape helped Harry to his feet.
"Let's get you to bed," he muttered. Harry giggled.
"Are you going to tell Aria that you drugged me, or shall I?"