Reunions

REUNIONS - Part 3

By Crazy Taxi

Chapter 5

"Hey there Tracey."

Tracey Davis looked up, startled. She had been sitting, reading in the late November sunshine, her cloak wrapped around her. She had rather thought that she was alone.

"Oh hello," was all she could think to say.

"What you doing?"

Tracey frowned. Was this some sort of trick? I mean, since when did Harry Potter make polite conversation with a Slytherin?

"Well, quite obviously, I'm reading." She wasn't going to be fooled by this. He probably had his gang hiding nearby ready to spring out and...well, she wasn't sure quite what they would do.

Harry Potter seemed undeterred.

"I'm out for a walk."

"That's nice."

"Cold isn't it."

"Yes, rather."

The boy stood, shuffling his feet as if wondering what next to say.

"Are you feeling alright?" Tracey asked.

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just talking."

"Right." She sounded less than convinced.

"Well, I, er, I guess I'll be seeing you then."

"Yes, I suppose so."

The boy walked away leaving Tracey wondering what the hell that had all been about. It wasn't that she particularly disliked him. Sure, he was the ever popular and somewhat annoying boy hero who always won Gryffindor the House Cup but, despite that fact, she had nothing personal against him. She almost felt sorry for him actually. She wasn't sure she'd have wanted to grow up in the limelight like that. Still, being Dumbledore's favourite had to be some compensation. She shrugged and returned to her book. What had that all been about anyway?

*****

Harry was mulling over the earlier conversation with Davis as he wandered towards the Quidditch pitch. He hadn't realised that he was being followed, so he was rather startled by a sudden flash of light.

"Jeez Colin, you trying to give me a heart attack?"

The boy smiled sheepishly but continued to pursue him.

Harry had almost got used to it by now, Colin had been following him around for four years, but it was still rather aggravating.

He was particularly tense toady. It was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff.

Some of the Hufflepuffs had made badges in honour of Cedric for their first game against Ravenclaw and they'd got them out again. Since they were Hufflepuffs this was probably not a deliberate ploy to unsettle Harry, but when Malfoy and his cronies had started wearing them Harry had become increasingly uncomfortable.

Harry blinked as Colin took another photograph just before the team went to get ready. This was getting old. He pushed the nerves away and strode toward the pitch with greater purpose. The feeling was familiar, a mixture of fear and excitement, and he was starting to wish that he had eaten something for breakfast. Ahead of him he saw his teammates walking in a huddled mass.

"Hey, who's been in here?"

Harry heard Alicia as he stood just outside the Quidditch changing rooms. He peered over the shoulders of his taller teammates with little success.

"D'you think someone's been in here to jinx our brooms?" Fred was hurriedly checking his equipment.

"Oh crap." George followed suit.

"What?" asked Harry. "What's going on?"

And then he saw the changing rooms. He had been down the evening before to check his gear, but everything had been moved around.

"Should we tell Hooch?"

"Dunno."

"It couldn't be Hufflepuff, they don't play dirty."

"Maybe they've changed their minds?"

They stood in a group, undecided. Eventually George, their Captain since Wood had left, decided he couldn't risk it. "I'm telling Hooch," he announced as he walked out of the room.

The others were rather surprised, he didn't usually turn to the staff to sort out his problems, but this was different. Nobody wanted to be on a jinxed broom at two hundred feet. They milled around, checking their stuff. Problem was, they weren't really qualified to tell if it had been tampered with. A minute later Hooch and Flitwick appeared.

"So, everything has moved, yes?" Hooch asked.

They nodded en masse.

"Hmm, I'll have to talk to Professor Dumbledore. Don't touch anything." She left, followed by Flitwick, who seemed a little twitchy. Harry wondered if there'd been more trouble that he hadn't found out about. Suddenly nobody felt like going through their gear.

*****

"I can't believe they cancelled it," Ron moaned in the Gryffindor common room three hours later.

"Well, would you want Harry on a cursed broom?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Er...no."

"Well then!"

"Oh shut up, I just meant..."

Harry listened as he passed them on his way to his dorm room. Another argument. Typical. It was hardly surprising he'd not confided in them, they were both so wrapped up in themselves. Oh well, don't want to talk to them anyway, he thought as he threw himself down on his bed.

It had been a severe disappointment when Dumbledore had announced that the match was to be cancelled until the equipment could be checked. That meant the game would probably be held next weekend, which meant another week of Cedric badges. Harry groaned to himself.

"Hey Harry."

Harry looked up as Neville walked in and started to rifle through his trunk. Whatever he was looking for wasn't there, of course, nothing was ever where Neville thought it was.

"Have you seen my Rememberall?" he asked.

"No, sorry Neville. What's the point of one if you can't remember where you put it?"

"Dunno," the other boy replied glumly. "I know I had it in Potions."

Harry had noticed that Neville had been particularly down this term. Sure, Snape was on his case worse than ever, but that couldn't be all of it.

"How's things Neville?"

"Er...Okay." He shrugged.

Harry wished he could ask him outright about his parents, but then he'd have to explain how he knew, and maybe Neville would be offended or hurt. In fact, since he'd never mentioned it he could be pretty certain that he wanted to keep it secret.

"How's your grandma?"

"Oh, she's fine."

Harry could tell that he was hiding something. He wasn't looking him in the eye.

"You...er....you'd talk to me if you had problems, wouldn't you?"

Neville looked at him, his eyes a little wide. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thought you looked down, that's all."

"I'm fine." Neville sounded defiant, a sure sign that something was wrong, but Harry didn't get any more out of him. Harry could only assume that Neville, of all people, had much to fear from the return of Lord Voldemort.

Of course the irony of the situation was not lost on Harry. Ron had had similar conversations with him this term. He supposed that his friend must know that something was wrong but he didn't want to ask. And Harry had been no more forthcoming than Neville. Is this what it was going to be like? Is this what it had been like last time? Nobody talking to each other? People not trusting their friends, everyone looking over their shoulders? He was beginning to see why some of the adults appeared so shaken by recent events. After all, they had been through this before. They knew what to expect.

*****

In another part of the castle Dumbledore's thoughts were along similar lines.

He was looking at his assembled staff as they sat or stood in his office. They were understandably concerned about the day's events. Nobody wanted to think about the possibility of an intruder in the grounds tampering with Quidditch equipment and doing Merlin knew what else. He had just asked Minerva, Filius and Severus to look into it. But the staff remained, there were the events of last night to discuss.

Of course Albus had known that an attack had been imminent. He had given Severus very specific information to pass on and it had been inevitable that it would be acted upon. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but did he really have a choice? Did he ever?

He watched Severus as they discussed the attack in the Forest the night before. He was standing apart from the rest, leaning against the fireplace. A self-imposed exile that he had grown accustomed to. Over the years he had never quite been able to throw off the shadow that hung around him. Albus doubted that he truly wanted to.

Severus had, at least, managed to forge some relationships amongst the staff. Although they sometimes bickered like children, he and Minerva actually got along better than anyone might have expected. After all, they shared a sense of humour and a love of scotch. Albus also knew that Hagrid regarded Severus well even if they rarely talked, and that Poppy tolerated him as she used his potions a great deal in the infirmary. Hannah Sprout actually dared to treat him like an errant schoolboy, which amused Albus no end and infuriated the younger man, but he knew Severus respected Hannah's encyclopaedic knowledge of Herbology. Filius, on the other hand, simply irritated the hell out of him. Albus watched as Severus narrowed his eyes at the tiny little man. What he was supposed to have done Albus didn't know, but he felt sure he'd hear about it soon enough.

"...I thought I'd just not been able to find it, but now I realised that it's gone," Arabella finished. She was only one of the many staff members who had commented on missing items. Her Sneakoscope had never shown up, an amulet had disappeared, several books from the library, a plaque from the Great Hall. Albus was becoming concerned. While these items suggested nothing specific to him there could be a connection he was missing.

"One name springs to mind," Severus said, his voice low.

"Don't start," Minerva warned him.

"I'm just saying that there's only one person who has a reputation for sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night taking things that aren't theirs."

"Malfoy?" Minerva suggested pointedly. Severus glared at her.

"At the risk of adding fuel to the fire, Harry could have taken my amulet when he was in his lesson with me," Escoban added.

"Bloody hell, not you as well!" Minerva looked about ready to blow.

"It's just a possibility."

"It could have been any number of people!" Minerva sounded truly angry now. One thing you should never do is criticise a Gryffindor, and particularly that Gryffindor, in her presence. Escoban shrugged, deciding that retreat was the better part of valour.

"I suggest," Albus cut in before things got out of hand, "that we all keep an eye out for any unusual behaviour from the students. It could, indeed, be anyone and I don't want you jumping to conclusions. Let's get to the bottom of this. Right." He shot meaningful looks at several of his teachers before indicating to them that the meeting was at an end.

*****

Chapter 6

"You know what you could do, don't you?" Ron looked over to where Harry was slumped into an over-stuffed armchair.

"What?"

"You could use Polyjuice Potion."

"What for?"

"You know. You could transform into Malfoy and ask the Slytherins a few questions and then you'd know who might be on your side."

"Hmmm, I suppose that would be one way of doing it. Escoban would probably be pleased too, if she found out. She said that I might have to be sneaky."

"There you are then. I bet she meant for you to use it."

"You think? We're not supposed to know how to brew it and the ingredients are hard to get. We'd have to raid the potions stores."

"It's not like we've never done it before." Ron smiled wickedly.

"True."

"What are you two up to?" Hermione had just arrived and had noticed the excitement on the boy's faces.

"Oh, nothing," they both replied innocently.

"Don't give me that. I've known you two for your years now. I know when you're up to something."

"No, really. We were just pretending...to wind you up."

"Oh." She wasn't convinced but she also realised that they weren't going to tell her. Not yet anyway. "Fine, don't tell me then." She left them to their plotting; she didn't need their childish behaviour right now.

"We're going to have to tell her sooner or later. I don't think I can brew the potion and we may need help with the ingredients." Harry looked like he wasn't looking forward to telling Hermione. Would she feel the need to turn them in?

"Well, let's plan how we're going to do it first, then we'll tell her."

"Okay"

Harry and Ron got back to their game of exploding snap. Maybe this would work...

*****

"This is crazy," Hermione said three days later.

"You always say that but we always end up having so much fun!" Ron was clearly enjoying himself.

"Oh yes, just like when I turned into a cat. Great fun."

"You agreed to do this."

"Only because I know you'll try without me and you'll screw up the potion and probably turn Harry inside out."

"Give us a little bit of credit..."

"Look I could loose my prefect badge for this."

"Oh wouldn't that be a pity?"

"Shh." Harry thought he should shut them up. They were dangerously close to the potions workroom and it was always possible that Snape was still prowling around.

They shuffled on in silence. Then, out of nowhere, an almighty boom echoed down the darkened hallway.

A buzz ran up the back of Harry's skull.

"What the hell was that?" Ron breathed.

The three of them stared at each other with wide eyes. Then, being as careful as they could to remain silent and hidden under the invisibility cloak, they hurried towards the source of the noise. As they cautiously rounded the corner that led to the potions workroom they heard another noise. A low growl was coming from the end of the hall. With some trepidation they padded quietly towards the sound.

There were several old oak doors on either side of them. Suddenly there was a loud crack that made them jump half out of their skins and a flash of light from under one of the doors. Cautiously they crept towards it. The problem was that they couldn't open it without the risk of discovery.

"Obscurus translucidus." Hermione flicked her wand towards the door and, much to the boy's amazement, they could now see right through it.

Harry and Ron both spoke at once.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"This is a one way, er, window, right?"

"This summer, and yes," Hermione replied.

And then the three friends froze. On the other side of the door Professor Escoban lay in a heap on one side of the room while Professor Snape stood at the other side, his wand raised.

"Bloody hell. I know he wants the job but...." Ron's voice trailed off as Escoban got up, shook her head slightly and then began to walk towards Snape. He was also heading to the centre of the room. When they were a pace away from each other they stopped, raised their wands, bowed and turned. In silence they took ten paces and turned again.

The three friends mouths dropped open as the walls shook.

Curses flew with such speed it was hard to keep up. Some Harry knew (Stupefy!, Expelliarmus!) and many he'd never heard before. The air crackled with magical discharge as deflected hexes rippled through the room. His skull itched.

At first it was hard to see who had the advantage. Then, just when Escoban seemed to be on the back foot she surprised Snape who had to leap to one side as a bolt of lightning narrowly missed his left shoulder. Taking advantage Escoban cast Serpensortia and as Snape attempted to fend off the snake he was caught unguarded.

"Expelliarmus!"

Snape flew backwards into the wall and hit the ground hard as his wand flew into Professor Escoban's hand.

"That's going to leave a bruise," Harry whispered.

"Yay! Go Escoban." Ron was grinning from ear to ear. Harry had to admit that the sight of his Potions professor being blasted into a wall was a memory he was going to cherish.

They watched as Escoban walked up to Snape. She held out an arm and helped him up. After handing him back his wand she turned to retrieve her cloak from a hook on the wall.

"Quick, I think they've finished." Harry was trying to get out of the way of the door.

"Hang on!" Hermione hissed as she cast Finite incantatem returning the door to its original state.

They had just managed to get out of the way when the door opened and the two Professors emerged. They were both breathing hard and Snape looked a little disorientated.

"Goodnight then," Professor Escoban said, a slight smile on her face.

"Goodnight," Snape replied, scowling.

As he turned and stalked down the corridor Escoban's smile become rather more pronounced and when he had turned the corner, she chuckled quietly to herself before turning in the opposite direction. Her walk might have had an air of victory about it if it hadn't been for the limp.

After what seemed like an age the three of them finally relaxed. Harry realised he'd been holding his breath and was starting to feel a little dizzy.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ron summed up what they were all thinking.

"Maybe they were duelling for the Dark Arts job?" Hermione suggested.

"It looks like Professor Escoban won so I guess she gets to keep it." Ron grinned. "That was pretty cool stuff." He looked over at Harry. "Didn't you say she was going to teach you duelling this year?"

Harry nodded.

"Wow!"

"I don't know about 'wow', Ron," Harry replied. "It looks bloody terrifying."

Hermione seemed to agree. "Maybe we should get into the lab, nick the boomslang and get back to the common room as quickly as possible."

The boys agreed.

In the end the boomslang wasn't too much of a problem. It was an ingredient in some of the sixth year potions so it was being kept temporarily in the outer workroom. Hermione doubted they'd be able to get into the next room where all the other exciting stuff was kept, Snape had been a bit paranoid about intruders ever since the episode with Moody - er Crouch - the year before.

*****

The next morning Severus Snape stared into his porridge desperately trying to ignore the pounding inside his skull. He'd taken a painkilling potion, which had taken the edge off it, but he was still finding the noise level in the Great Hall rather unbearable and next was double potions with the Slytherin and Gryffindor fifth years. That's all I bloody need right now, he thought.

He looked up as Professor Escoban made her way towards a chair at the opposite end of the top table. He noticed that she was trying to hide a rather bad limp. He smiled to himself. No reason why he should be the only one in pain this morning. Giving up on breakfast he left the Hall and headed towards the Potions dungeon.

He was not looking forward to this and he was not disappointed. As usual tension between the houses was high, Potter was insolent, Malfoy arrogant and Longbottom an idiot. By the end of the lesson Gryffindor were forty points down and he would be having the pleasure of an evening spent with the aforementioned Longbottom. Oh joy of joys.

He glared at the boy as he scuttled out of the classroom only to return moments later for his bag. Severus resisted the urge to inflict further humiliation on him. It was just too easy.

*****

"Professor Escoban!"

Escoban stopped and turned to find the Headmaster approaching.

"We have a meeting later, eight o'clock, my office."

"Right."

"Are you going down to the dungeons?"

She nodded.

"Couldn't tell Severus could you? I'm in an awful rush?"

"Sure," she replied as he scurried passed her and disappeared round a corner. She turned and headed down the staircase three flights relived the day was over. She needed something for the pain in her knee and Severus was bound to have something.

Far down the long, dark, cold corridor she came to the Potions classroom door and pushed it open.

"...but your incompetence knows no bounds, does it Longbottom? How for Merlin's sake do you mix up crab weed and--" Severus Snape broke off from what had evidently been an extensive rant at Neville Longbottom. Escoban noted that the poor boy was shaking and Snape had his nose just inches from his face. The professor slowly stood up straight, glaring at her.

"Thank you for knocking," he snarled.

"Would you have heard?" she replied, one eyebrow raised. "I need a word...in private." She jerked her head towards his office.

"Fine." Snape spun on his heel as Escoban followed.

Once inside she closed the door activating the silence charm around Snape's room.

"Do you treat him like that because you feel guilty?"

"What?" Snape hissed.

"Well, I can't help notice that the only person you treat worse than Neville is Harry Potter, and I know for a fact you feel guilty about his parent's deaths. So, I've come to the conclusion that you feel guilty about what happened to the Longbottoms."

"Really," Snape replied dismissively.

"Seems obvious."

"Your intellect astounds."

"Well I know I do." She allowed that to sink in for a moment. "And I known that your capacity for guilt is easily as great as mine." Her voice had an edge to it, her words clipped. She knew she'd hit a nerve.

Neither said anything further for a moment, both glaring at each other waiting for the other one to make the next move. Finally Escoban had had enough.

"God you're pathetic." She turned to leave.

"How dare you lecture me you sanctimonious...." Snape broke off moments after Escoban had opened the door. She saw Neville's head jerk up as he caught the final two words, his eyes wide. She slowly turned back towards Snape.

"Before I forget. Meeting. Eight o'clock. Headmaster's office." She stormed passed Neville, slamming the door behind her. Moments later Snape emerged.

"Get back to work," he snapped.

Neville went back to chopping his crab weed, keeping his head down so as not to provoke Snape even further. It was quite evident that his mood had taken a turn for the worse.

Severus Snape bored holes in Longbottom's back as he noted the boy's reaction. He tried to get back to marking but found that he couldn't concentrate. Damn her, he thought.

The fact was she was right. He did feel responsible, guilty even. He'd known the Lestranges were Death Eaters but he'd never turned them in. But then he'd never thought that they'd do what they did. They were fanatics to be sure, but so was Lucius Malfoy and he'd had the sense to keep his head down. Then again that was why the Malfoys were rich and powerful and the Lestranges weren't, they simply didn't know how to play the game. In fact, they were so good at it that the Malfoys had come out of the war more powerful than at the start of it. Snape suspected that Lucius had dirt on some high-up minitry officials. It was the only way he could explain why he was still a free, and very influential, man.

Snape had even visited the Longbottoms in St Mungo's once. At first he had thought he was going to apologise, but then he realised it was more due to his penchant for masochism. He supposed that was one reason he gave the boy so many detentions, after all they always left him feeling worse than Longbottom probably did.

But every time he saw the boy he saw his parents staring back at him and Snape did the only thing he knew how. He lashed out. It was an old habit, but he thought himself too old to change, despite the fact that a part of him acknowledged that it was hardly fair to punish the boy.

He couldn't help it; at least that's what he told himself. But he also realised that his outbursts at Longbottom left him feeling like shit. It was totally unlike his feelings towards Potter. Longbottom didn't have a fan club, Longbottom wasn't talented in the slightest, Longbottom wasn't an arrogant, overconfident rule breaker. Longbottom didn't need his ego taking down a peg. Longbottom didn't have a bloody ego. Longbottom's father had never saved his life.

"Longbottom get out of here," Snape snarled at the boy.

Neville turned, startled by his early release.

"Er...y-y-yes sir."

He scurried out of the classroom before Snape could change his mind.

*****

Harry stood, shivering by the Quidditch pitch at seven the next morning. He still hated these sessions but at least he was getting a little fitter. He had a long way to go though, years of inactivity were not easy to reverse.

Eventually he saw a form walking towards him. He noted that Escoban was still limping. Should he ignore it, or should he ask? Which looked the least suspicious?

"Morning Harry." She scowled at him.

"Er...Good morning Professor."

"That remains to be seen." She was her usual cheery morning self. "'Fraid I won't be running today, my knee's playing up."

"Oh, Okay."

Harry took off his cloak and jogged off. One good thing about this routine was that it allowed him to think.

And there was so much to think about. Why were Snape and Escoban duelling, and then later arguing in Snape's office? How well did they know each other? They were years apart at school so it must have been after that...when Snape had become a Death Eater perhaps. But Dumbledore had told Harry he could trust her. But then there was the Imperious curse. He'd forgotten to ask Dumbledore about that.

And then there was the spate of thefts around school. He'd thought he'd lost a book he'd got from the library until he realised he wasn't the only one. Helen Washbourne, a second year, had had a necklace stolen when she was out practicing Quidditch. She was a reserve Keeper, and then there was the business of the Quidditch changing rooms. On a brighter note Colin's camera had gone missing two days later. He felt a little guilty for being glad about that but it was something of a relief.

As he ran towards Professor Escoban he was relieved to see her signal him to stop. He was getting fitter, but he wasn't fit yet.

"That's enough Harry."

"Right." Harry quickly caught his breath as he followed the professor back to the castle.

"So...er...what's wrong with your knee?"

Harry wasn't sure why he asked, perhaps he was just curious about what she's say.

"It's an old injury." Which wasn't exactly a lie.

"Oh, from the war?"

"Something like that."

Harry got the distinct feeling that she didn't want to talk about it. Understandable, he thought, and not surprising she didn't admit to the duel with Snape. He suspected that Dumbledore wouldn't be too pleased if he knew.