A Year Like None Other

aspeninthesunlight

Story Summary:
A letter from home? A letter from family? Well, Harry Potter knows he has neither, but all the same, it starts with a letter from Surrey. A letter that sends Harry down a path he'd never have walked on his own. It will be a year of big changes, a year of great pain, and a year of confronting worst fears. It will be a year of surprising discoveries, of finding true strength, of finding out that first impressions of a person's true colours do not always ring true. It will be a year of paradigm shifts. And from the most unexpected sources, Harry will have a chance to have that which he has never known: a home ... and a family. (A Snape adopts Harry fic.)
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Chapter 41 - Sometimes it Just Takes a Wizard

Posted:
05/23/2006
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6,378
Author's Note:
Betaed by the Fabulous Mercredi.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, or this fictional universe. JK Rowling, some publishers, and some film companies own everything. I'm not making anything from this except a hobby.

Summary: A letter from home sends Harry down a path he'd never have walked on his own. A sixth year fic, this story follows Order of the Phoenix and disregards any canon events that occur after Book 5. Spoilers for the first five books. Have fun!

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A Year Like None Other

by Aspen in the Sunlight

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Chapter Forty-One:
Sometimes It Just Takes a Wizard

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The next few days were wrenching ones for Harry.

The headmaster had said their interviews would occur just as soon as Wizard Family Services had "thoroughly reviewed" the application. Harry wanted it all to be over. He kept glancing over at the parchment by the door, wishing he could will it to announce the arrival of some Family Services staff. Every night when Snape walked in, Harry asked straight away if he'd heard anything, anything at all.

But for all his anxiousness to get it over with, Harry also began to deeply wish he'd never stuck his foot in this mire. Because he felt like he was sinking fast. He tried a couple of times to call Snape Severus, but the name stuck in his throat. Sir was just easier... and far less daunting. His nervousness around his teacher was just getting worse as he lived in this not-quite-adopted limbo. With the rational part of his mind, he knew he wasn't in any danger of being rejected at this late stage. Even if he did manage to thoroughly irritate Snape, his teacher would still go through with the adoption, for the spell if no other reason.

But Harry didn't want it to be just for the spell, and so he walked on tenterhooks around the man. He started carrying Sals around more, though he didn't flaunt the snake in front of the other boys. The presence of his little friend was comforting, though, and when Harry felt particularly frustrated, he would retreat to a corner and speak to Sals in soft Parseltongue. Funny how that made him feel so much better, now. When he'd discovered the skill in himself, it had horrified him. But now, it was just a part of himself, whether Voldemort had put it there, or not.

Sals, Harry found out, was a bit of a know-it-all when all was said and done. Of course, Parseltongue wasn't English; when Harry wanted to explain about the adoption, he ended up having to say that Snape hadn't been his father then, but was going to be soon. Even that didn't make too much sense in snake-language, but Sals seemed to get the point.

"I knew you would like a father," Sals hissed, wrapping herself around and around Harry's wrist as they sat alone in his room.

"What I'd like," Harry changed the subject, "is for you to stop sleeping in the corner of the Floo. Please, Sals, we've talked about this. You'll get sick again. Don't you remember?"

"The ssstones are warm," Sals replied. "It was sooo cold in the cccellar, Harry..."

After the third time he found Sals ignoring instructions, Harry asked Snape to bring some rocks from outside. Harry put these in the corner of the Floo, and rotated them out, one at a time, into Sals' box so the snake would have somewhere else warm and comfy to sleep. But Sals still preferred the fireplace to her little box.

Observing this, Snape said a bit sardonically that negotiation apparently didn't always work. Harry got the point--he had sort of taken on Sals' well-being the way Snape had taken on his--but he still found the comment a bit perplexing. What was he supposed to do, give his snake a detention if she wouldn't behave? Or was Snape trying to say that he found Harry just as hard to deal with as Harry found Sals?

It was all a bit much for Harry to figure out.

Living with his cousin was also getting to be a strain for Harry. Dudley thought this adoption scenario was nothing short of splendid, and that Harry ought to be a whole lot happier about it. Harry tried to explain that things were more complicated than that, but Dudley didn't get it. "Call him Dad," his cousin would whisper to him two or three times a day, usually within sight of Snape, though no doubt Dudley thought the Potions Master couldn't hear him. Fat chance of that, Harry would think. From a hundred paces, Snape can hear whether you drop two newt's eyes instead of one into your cauldron.

Thank Merlin, Snape pretended he didn't hear the way Dudley kept egging Harry on.

Strangely enough, the only person who wasn't getting on Harry's nerves these days was Draco. Of course the Slytherin boy was still resentful; Harry could see it in the twist of his lip, but Draco had apparently decided to stop putting his anger on full display. Maybe Snape had talked to him about impulse control? Harry didn't know. He just knew that while Draco tutored him in subjects, or tried to help him practice magic, he acted mostly the same as he had before. Aristocratic and smugly superior, but genuinely helpful, too. He even started reading Harry's essays before they were owled out, and suggesting improvements.

Just like Hermione, though Harry decided he'd better not point that out.

It was during a Potions lesson one afternoon that the Slytherin boy suddenly said, "Someone's here."

He did that a lot; every time Harry's friends came by, Draco knew about it, even if he couldn't possibly see the enchanted scroll. "How do you do that?" Harry finally asked.

"The spelled parchment sort of makes a... buzzing in my head," Draco explained.

It's a magic doorbell, Harry thought. Honestly, sometimes he wondered why wizards made everything so complicated. Why not make the thing just ring out loud?

Draco spelled the fire under their wart-removal Potion to a tiny flame, then performed a cleaning charm on his and Harry's hands before walking out to the door, where the parchment read Albus Dumbledore, Horace Darswaithe.

"No pets?" Draco quipped, ignoring Harry's groan. "Abrire."

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The headmaster was a bit brusque, Harry thought. Possibly he was still reacting to Harry's refusal to confide in him? Hard to be sure. Not that it mattered much to Harry if Dumbledore left directly after introducing Mr Darswaithe as a casewizard from Wizard Family Services.

The casewizard was a tall, thin man. He looked young, but his sparse brown hair appeared to be prematurely balding, which struck Harry as pretty unusual for a wizard. He had a sudden, bizarre urge to suggest the man ask Snape for a hair tonic.

Nervous, definitely nervous, Harry recognised, realizing that he had to get himself under control. He had a feeling that flippant answers in the interview wouldn't help his cause.

Darswaithe took a moment to survey his dungeon surroundings, saying, "Very interesting down here. I was in Hufflepuff; never thought to see the inside of Professor Snape's private residence. It's less austere than I would have thought."

Draco made a face at the mention of Hufflepuff. Thankfully, he was behind the casewizard at that point, so Mr Darswaithe didn't see. All Harry needed was the casewizard getting offended enough to deny the adoption. He tried to warn Draco with his eyes, but couldn't give him too harsh a look, not with Darswaithe looking at him.

"Mr Potter," the casewizard enthused, teeth gleaming in a wide smile. "A pleasure to meet you, I must say. A great pleasure indeed!"

At that, Draco began pretending to gag, but he wiped the expression from his face and assumed a neutral, bored visage when the casewizard turned to greet him as well. "So, Mr Malfoy. Your application recently came before us. Dire circumstances, very dire. How are you finding it, being emancipated from your parents?"

Draco managed to look even more bored. "Oh, all right."

"It can't be easy making so many changes at once," Darswaithe sympathized, shaking his head as though he were lecturing to someone who held an opposite point of view. "First your family, and now your living arrangements..." He clucked his tongue.

"Severus is very good to take me in," said Draco sincerely.

"Quite so, quite so," murmured the casewizard as he thumbed through a sheaf of papers. "I'll need to speak with you as well, but I believe I'll begin with Mr Potter."

Draco shifted to a laconic, careless stance, his silver eyes puzzled. "Harry's the only one getting adopted, you do realise?"

"True, but you reside here as well, so I'm interested in what you have to say." The casewizard turned to Dudley, glanced down at his papers, and said, "Now, you must be Mr Dursley, I expect? Harry Potter's cousin?"

Harry put a hand on his cousin's arm before any tears or blubbering could start. "Yeah," the pudgy boy said, his voice twanging with sadness. "Yeah, I am."

"My condolences on your loss." The sympathy was perfunctory at best, which Harry thought a little bit strange in a social worker. Because Vernon was relevant to Harry's application, Darswaithe must know the awful circumstances of the death... Well, perhaps his main focus had to stay on the adoption.

Dudley sighed, his eyes beginning to water despite Harry's calming palm moving down to his wrist.

"Shouldn't Professor Snape be here?" Harry questioned to distract Dudley.

"My colleague is interviewing him as we speak," Mr Darswaithe replied. "It's policy to conduct separate interviews. We don't want his presence influencing your answers, or vice-versa. Later, we'll visit with the two of you together."

That made sense, Harry supposed, so he nodded.

"Now, is there a place where we can speak privately, Mr Potter?"

"Uh, yeah. Professor Snape changed his office wards so I could let people in," Harry murmured. He'd also altered the spelled door so it would open to Harry's touch. "This way."

Draco cleared his throat. "Ah... can I take your cloak? Would you care for any refreshment before you begin?"

Harry flushed, realizing he probably should have thought of all that. He just didn't have much practice at being a host, though. Definitely, he didn't have Draco's perfect manners. Sometimes, Harry felt like he might as well have been raised by a family of baboons.

"No thank you," the casewizard refused, pulling his robes about him as though he might be cold, when it was really quite comfortable in Snape's magically heated quarters. "I'll be speaking to you in a bit, then, Mr Malfoy. And a bit after that, I might want to exchange just a few words with you as well, Mr Dursley."

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Once they were in the office, Darswaithe did in fact take off his robe, slinging it over the back of his leather armchair before he seated himself and began the interview.

"You've been attending Hogwarts for over five years." Holding a self-inking quill poised on parchment held magically rigid by some spell, Darswaithe questioned, "How would you characterize your relationship with Professor Snape over the course of that time?"

Harry nibbled bit on his lower lip, then cut it out when he realised he was doing it. It wouldn't do to look anxious, would it? Just like it wouldn't do to be too forthcoming with his answers. Cunning, misdirection, just enough truth to sound reasonable... "Um... let's see. Well, I've had him for Potions the whole time. It's not my best subject so there's been a little tension in that regard, I guess. Way back in first year, though, he started looking out for me. First there was this hexed broom, and then a werewolf, and most recently on Samhain he rescued me from Voldemort himself. So... I'd say we have a pretty good relationship."

Harry tensed, expecting to be asked any number of follow-ups, but all the casewizard said was, "I see," before jotting down some notes and moving on to something else. "Have you discussed the adoption with your friends?"

"Oh, sure," Harry said, stretching the truth way beyond recognition as he continued, "Draco knows all about it."

"Just Mr Malfoy, then?"

"Um, well, my other friends haven't been down since it was all decided," Harry explained. That was true enough, though it was misdirection all the same. Harry wasn't going to breathe one word to his friends, not until the thing was finalized and done.

"How did Mr Malfoy react?"

What to say, what to say. "It took him a day to adjust," Harry explained. "Not because he doesn't think the Professor and I won't be good for each other.... but because, well.. you know about his situation. His family just disowned him; it only stands to reason he'd be a bit sensitive right now."

"Hmm," the casewizard said, continuing to write. He glanced up at Harry after a moment. "You're in a unique position, to say the least, being the Boy Who Lived, and Professor Snape... well, it's no secret in certain circles that he bears the Dark Mark. Any concerns in that regard?"

Harry felt like his eyes were bugging out. "Oh, no, no. Of course not. Not at all." He gave a nervous laugh. Wasn't Dumbledore supposed to have taken care of this sort of query?

"Oh, come now," probed Darswaithe. "You must have given the matter some thought?"

"Professor Snape is absolutely trustworthy," Harry declared. He pushed up with his palms to sit up straighter, and looked the casewizard in the eye.

"My understanding is that until quite recently--the incident at Samhain, to be exact--he attended Death Eater gatherings and was in the full service of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?"

"He attended, yeah," Harry explained, "but he wasn't in Voldemort's service. Don't you know what he was really doing?"

Harry was almost ready to end the interview right there, because something just wasn't right, but at that, the casewizard nodded sagely and said, "Oh, of course. Spying for the cause of Light. Yes, a few of us at Family Services do know that. I had to be certain that you fully comprehended it. Do you understand?"

Misdirection from a Hufflepuff? It seemed odd, but Harry nodded.

"All right then," the casewizard continued. "We're aware that Professor Snape no longer attends Death Eater meetings, but it's a matter of concern to us that You-Know-Who is presumably still calling him through the Dark Mark. How is he managing to resist?"

"I... I don't know. He is managing, though."

"Has he complained of his Mark burning? Or conversely, mentioned that it's not?"

The question curled Harry's toes. "I think you'd better ask Professor Snape yourself if you want to know things like that."

Darswaithe wrote a longish answer down, his quill moving so slowly Harry wanted to grab it and transcript the interview himself. "How do you feel that he keeps things from you?"

"I don't know that he does," Harry said, not liking the sound of that.

"Have you seen his Dark Mark, lately?"

"What sort of questions are these?" Harry objected, his voice emerging at a higher pitch than he had expected. "Of course I haven't seen it. The Professor is a private person. There's nothing wrong with that. He can still be a perfectly good guardian for me."

Darswaithe stared at him, then wrote another long answer. Probably something using the word defensive, Harry glumly figured. He schooled his expression into something resembling calm, and waited for the next question.

"You mentioned tension, earlier. Would some of that be attributable to the dual role the professor's played here at Hogwarts?"

"Oh yeah, loads of it," Harry answered, trying for a lighter tone. The ready-made explanation helped. It gave him a way to explain away their enmity without getting into how Snape had hated him on account of his name and reputation. That certainly wouldn't make for much of a character reference.

"So how long have you been aware of his true allegiances?"

"Uh... not really until after the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry admitted, feeling a bit more comfortable. "So, a year and a half, something like that."

"Since that time, have you ever had any cause whatsoever to doubt his loyalties?"

"No...." Of course he'd blamed Snape for Sirius dying, but he'd been wrong to do so, so he was hardly going to get into that, even if, at the time it had happened, he'd had some dark and forbidding thoughts about Snape and the Order.

"Have you had specific cause to trust him?" The casewizard pressed on, eyes intent, though strangely enough, he was lifting his hand to stifle a yawn.

"Well, yeah. Sure. Of course I have." Harry's comfort began to evaporate, leaving nothing but confusion in its wake. Wasn't this interview supposed to about something other than Snape's Mark and his allegiances? Sure, those were relevant, considering Harry's scar and whatnot, but what about feelings, expectations, anticipated difficulties? What about Harry's own personal history and how it was likely to influence his ability to form relationships?

I've spent too much time reading that damned book, Harry suddenly realised.

"Such as?" Darswaithe verbally prodded him.

"Such as what?" Harry blankly returned. He'd lost all track of the conversation.

"Reasons you have to believe Professor Snape is no longer in You-Know-Who's service, Mr Potter," the casewizard repeated with impatience.

"Uh, well Lucius Malfoy kidnapped me for Voldemort, who wanted me tortured and burned alive, and Professor Snape--"

"Yes, yes, I know all that," the casewizard interrupted. "It's in your written statement. Please do make an effort to focus. What other reasons do you have to know that Severus Snape is on your side and not his?"

"I don't know what you're asking for," Harry murmured, feeling his whole body tense.

"Information he's passed to Albus Dumbledore about You-Know-Who's activities, for example. Specific information."

A voice rang inside Harry's mind. Your instincts are usually good....

Harry moved closer to the edge of his seat. "Um, you know... I think Draco actually mentioned something about that the other day, but I can't remember exactly what... Just a second, all right?" Moving quickly, Harry stood, walked the few steps to the door, and placed his palm face-down on the wooden panel Snape had spelled for him. The door began to swing open just as Harry saw the casewizard, moving rather sluggishly, pull a wand from a pocket of the cloak draped over the chair. That was enough for Harry.

He sprinted down the hall, calling "Draco!"

The other boy rose from his seat at the dining table just as Harry burst into the living room. "What?"

Harry opened his mouth to explain, but at that instant heard an incantation behind him. He didn't know what the hex was, or what it would do to him, but those instincts Snape had praised had him instantly falling sideways and rolling away from the path of the spell, which zinged past him as a jagged shard of sapphire light. The light licked out as it passed, one vicious tendril nipping at Harry's left foot. Pain exploded in his bones, making him gasp out loud.

The rest of the spell connected with the wall, fracturing the stones and making them smoke.

"That!" Harry shouted, though by then Draco didn't need to be told a thing. He had thrown himself under the moving hex, drawing his wand as he landed, and by the time Harry shouted, Draco was already pointing it at Darswaithe and shouting, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The casewizard froze into a rigid block and toppled over where he stood, his arms snapping to his sides as he hit the ground face-first.

"Stupefy," the Slytherin boy incanted for good measure, then rolled Darswaithe over and made sure he was completely out.

Draco's next order of business was Harry. "You all right?" Then he looked at Harry's face and blanched a bit. "Oh, shite, you're not!" Without missing a beat, Draco flung some powder into the Floo, and shouted for the Potions office. "Severus, get down here, now!" was all he called before he rushed back to Harry's side and gasped, "You can breathe? Heart still beating? That curse has been known to send full-grown wizards into shock. Oh crap, you're losing all colour!"

"It hurts," Harry groaned. "Foot feels mashed. Bad. But I've had worse--"

Snape stepped into the room, accompanied by a short, overweight witch with red hair pulled back into a rather unattractive bun, her robes a horrible cherry-red. The Potions Master's eyes swept the scene, taking everything in at once. "Draco," he sharply rapped out, angling his head to the side.

Harry was slow to understand; he just wasn't Slytherin enough. Draco, in contrast, immediately levelled his wand on the casewitch standing alongside Snape. "Your wand," he demanded. "Give it to me."

"Honestly!" she exclaimed, but when Draco snarled, she handed it over. The Slytherin boy immediately charmed it with an anti-summoning spell, then passed it to Snape.

"Now back!" Draco ordered, brandishing his own wand in a way Harry had never seen. The motion almost looked... haphazard, as though Draco might accidentally let a hex slip through if he got any angrier. Since Harry didn't think the other boy's impulse control was that bad, he concluded that it must be a deliberate tactic. Draco wanted the casewitch to think he was about to lose his temper. It did the trick; when he roared, "Over there, in the corner! Move!" she didn't waste any time arguing about it.

Snape had glanced assessingly at Harry before turning his attention to the man downed in the corridor. "Petrificus and Stupefy?" he verified with Draco, then drew his own wand, his eyes blazing, and incanted a long chant to bind the spells so that only his own Finite could end them.

And all the while, Draco kept the casewitch well away from Harry.

Once he felt all danger was neutralized, Snape turned his attention to the boy on the floor. "I'm all right, really," Harry said through gritted teeth when Snape began to pick him up. "Just my foot. I think the bones are broken. All the bones."

Snape laid the boy on the couch and gently spelled away his shoe and sock, then knelt on the floor and pointed his wand at the toes and instep of the injured foot. "Shattered," he clarified, turning his head to the side. "Accio oseo potion. Accio firming balm."

He gave Harry the potion to drink, then spread the balm all across his foot and began to massage it. Harry could feel his bones becoming whole again as the treatment continued. The process wasn't precisely painful--he suspected the firming balm contained a heavy-duty numbing agent. Despite that, he felt strange pressures coursing in waves through his foot, a sensation which was rather upsetting. Harry held his breath through most of it, then finally said, "That feels all right, now. You.... why aren't you a medi-wizard, sir? You really know your treatments."

"Pomfrey knows more. She'll check you, too. A bit later, I should think." Snape glanced over at Draco. "What happened here?"

"He attacked Harry with a bone-breaking curse!" Draco scathed. When Snape gave him a look as though to say, I do have eyes, Draco, the Slytherin boy drew in a breath and said, "All I know is Harry came running out of your office calling for me, and the wizard followed throwing hexes. Well, one hex. After that, he was mine."

"I think the headmaster needs to hear this," Snape murmured as he strode to the hearth and firecalled for him.

Once Dumbledore had arrived, Snape indicated that the casewitch should take a seat. Draco still kept his wand on her, but he seemed less tense about it, now that he had two older wizards to back him up if she tried anything. "All right, what's the meaning of this?" Snape demanded, hovering over the witch, his black eyes glaring daggers at her. "You come here under the pretext of conducting Family Services interviews, and end up attacking a minor child? Who are you really, and what were your intentions with regard to my prospective son?" By the end, he was roaring.

Harry bit his lip.

"I am Amaelia Thistlethorne, from Wizard Family Services!" the casewitch exclaimed, indignant. "And he's Horace Darswaithe, from the same! We've worked together for six years! I don't know what went on down here, but I can't imagine Horace would hex any client, let alone a child!"

"Show me your arms," Snape rapped out.

She didn't pretend to misunderstand; within moments, her bare arms were on display, completely unmarked. Draco went to check the casewizard's, then reported back, "He's not marked, either."

"Harry, perhaps you could tell us why Mr Darswaithe attacked you?" Dumbledore calmly questioned.

"I don't know why!" Harry exclaimed. "The interview was... peculiar. It was all about Professor Snape, and how I could be sure he wasn't still... ah..."

"Go on, it's all right," Dumbledore encouraged. "Miss Thistlethorne knows all there is to know."

"Uh, all right." Harry swallowed. "Darswaithe there, he kept implying the professor was still a Death Eater. Then, once I'd insisted enough that he wasn't, he wanted... I don't know, proof... He kept asking if the Mark was burning still, and he wanted to know exactly what Professor Snape might have told the Order about Voldemort's plans."

Snape narrowed his eyes in a sharp look. "What did you reply?"

"Well, nothing! I don't know anything, do I? But he just kept pressing. Things just didn't sound right to me, so I decided I'd better get Draco--"

"Draco," Snape slowly drawled.

"Well, yeah! I could tell by then I was probably going to need help, and I sure didn't think Dudley was going to hold off Darswaithe, if it came to that. I needed a wizard!" Harry sighed then, and accepted something that should have been obvious before then. Draco really was on his side. If he wasn't, he'd have helped the casewizard who, Dark Mark or no, was obviously working for Voldemort. "Thank you," he said sincerely, glancing into Draco's silver eyes. "You did a really good job protecting me."

Draco snorted. "Oh, sure I did. I should have deflected the curse and immediately cast Protego around you at the very least, instead of letting your foot get smashed all to hell. I'm out of practice, obviously. We need to get your magic roaring back so we can duel." His eyes flashed anticipation.

"I think you did fine," Harry murmured. "Say, where is Dudley, anyway?"

"He said he was tired and wanted a nap. Right after you disappeared into the office. Actually, I think he was depressed." Draco glared briefly at the casewitch. "That arse Darswaithe brought up his recently killed father." His gaze met Harry's, again. "Seems strange he could sleep through all this, though."

"Oh, he's slept through worse than this," Harry said without thinking, then flushed. "Um, nightmares. In the summer I didn't have potions, couldn't cast silencing charms..." He shrugged.

"The question remains," Snape said in a hard tone, "why a supposed casewizard would be trying to ferret out information about my Mark or the Order."

"Polyjuice?" Draco ventured.

"Impossible," the casewitch insisted, though that time her voice was a good deal less indignant. Hearing Harry's story had taken the wind out of her sails. "Horace and I took the train. He was with me the entire time, and he didn't eat or drink anything."

"Maybe you missed it," Harry guessed. "Or he was clever about it. Or... er, he has an improved formulation of the potion?"

Snape shook his head, which Harry took to mean that the longer-lasting Polyjuice he'd used was his private brew, not yet shared with anyone -- well, except maybe the Order.

"I didn't miss it," the casewitch asserted. "Really, Horace seemed quite exhausted; he largely dozed on the train, which is actually quite unlike him--"

"Imperius," said Snape, Dumbledore, and Draco, all at once.

The casewitch sucked in a horrified breath, her pasty face blanching. "Oh no, surely not," she gasped. "I'd have known, I'd have noticed something..."

"You mustn't fault yourself, Amaelia," Dumbledore calmly nodded. "It's notoriously difficult to detect." He turned to Snape. "What do you suppose the plan was?"

"Determine how I can resist Voldemort's call, and ascertain what the Order knows of Voldemort's activities," Snape crisply reasoned. "I suspect that when he'd exhausted Harry's usefulness as an unwitting informant, he'd have spelled him to sleep so that Draco could be interrogated as well, under the same pretext of a 'family interview.'"

"He did say he wanted to talk to me," Draco confirmed.

"That would be standard practice," the casewitch pointed out. "Though I must admit, his questions to Mr Potter certainly weren't." Her whole face wrinkled as she frowned.

"So Darswaithe had orders to get as much information as possible, then floo us both away?" Draco asked.

"Oh great, I'd have been fried to a cinder!"

Snape cast a brief glare Harry's way. "Don't be ridiculous. The man was a Hufflepuff. You know what they're like. He wasn't going anywhere, not through my wards. He couldn't even have left through the door. A Hufflepuff must have planned the entire effort, it makes so little sense."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Ah, Severus, my boy... you may as well know, Amaelia was sorted into Hufflepuff as well. Before your time here."

The look on the Potions Master's face was akin to I should have known, but the words crossing his lips were a smooth, "My apologies for speaking out of turn. The stress of the situation, I'm sure you understand." He actually gave her a slight bow.

Draco was the one who went ahead and said what Harry was thinking. "What's with this let's-all-be-friends routine? For all you know, she's under Imperius as well!"

"What makes you think so?" Dumbledore softly queried.

"Because my father likes redundancies!" Draco spat, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning against. "You don't think the Dark Lord cooked up this plan, do you? His style is to have everybody brought to him for questioning, no matter that he loses advantages doing things that way. He likes to watch the torture, you know? Besides, dear old dad, as Harry put it, has got his fingers into every last department in the Ministry, even an adjunct office like Family Services. I'd say someone heard about this adoption and tipped him off. What better way to infiltrate Severus' quarters? We all know he's dying to get to me... well, with this plan, he could kill two birds with one stone and get his hands on Harry again, as well."

Draco drew in a deep breath, and went on, "As for flooing... well, it certainly wouldn't be like my father to leave that to the off-chance that some casewizard under Imperius could manipulate Severus' wards. So I think..." He disappeared down the hall, his wand at the ready, then returned a moment later, levitating a pocket-watch before him. "There's magic wrapped inside it. Portus, probably. I bet it's activated with a spoken spell. And before you say that nobody could Portkey through your wards, Severus, just consider that my father's visited enough to study them. Plus, I bet he knows a fair bit about your magical habits." With a jab of his wand, he impelled the floating watch toward the headmaster. "Evidence. For the Aurors. If they can manage to arrest my father and keep him in Azkaban this time, maybe Slytherin House would finally calm down enough to let me get out of here."

Snape levelled his wand at the floating watch and softly incanted a series of spells. "Lucius' magical signature," he pronounced, "cleverly disguised, but no doubt about it. I've put the item in stasis so a careless word won't send it hurtling back to him."

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sorry, Amaelia, but in the circumstances I'm afraid I'll have to insist the two of you be examined by the Aurors."

The casewitch nodded. "I quite understand. This whole incident is such a blot on our reputation. We pride ourselves on looking after each child's interest. To think we've been... infiltrated by You-Know-Who... that one of our own workers has tried to put Harry Potter at risk..." She shuddered. "The Aurors should investigate the entire department."

"We'll retire to my office and wait for them," Dumbledore indicated. "Severus, if you could help me with the other one?"

Malice danced in Snape's dark eyes. "It would be my distinct pleasure."

The headmaster held up a hand. "On reflection, I think not. We need him alive. Mobilicorpus." The body of the casewizard floated out of the hall and followed Dumbledore and Thistlethorne into the Floo.

Snape handed Dumbledore the casewitch's wand before altering the binding spell he'd placed on Darswaithe. Harry wasn't sure, but it sounded like Snape was making sure the Aurors could Finite the man out of his stupefied, petrified condition.

"Keep me apprised," Snape requested as he took an ebony box from the mantle. He held it out towards Dumbledore, who reached for a handful of powder--

"Wait!" Harry shouted from the couch. "Sals! Check for Sals!"

"His snake likes to sleep in the fireplace," Snape explained as he knelt down and peered at the dark back corners. Harry heard a sigh, and then saw his teacher back out, bearing a tiny maroon-and-gold snake in his palm. "We really do have to do something about this tendency of hers," Snape chided as he deposited Sals in Harry's outstretched hand.

"Sals!" Harry rebuked his snake, asking with worry, "Were you in there when my soon-father came-in-fire a little while ago?"

Sals shook her head. "I sssaw the flamesss and knew it would be warm for aftersss."

"He's a Parselmouth!" a high voice exclaimed.

"And a good thing, too, Amaelia," Dumbledore calmly reassured the casewitch, who looked close to fainting. "We need a Parselmouth on our side, wouldn't you agree?"

"Your Floo powder, headmaster," Snape broke in, proffering the ebony box again.

Harry watched them Floo away, absently noting that Snape's powder produced a flash of fire that was more turquoise than emerald. Feeling stupid sitting there with one bare foot, the boy gingerly used his recently healed foot to toe off his remaining shoe and sock.

"You've seen Imperius cast a bunch of times," Draco remarked to Snape. "Would you say she's under it?"

"She seemed to know her own mind, not Voldemort's, when it came to Parselmouths," Snape murmured, turning back toward Harry. "I somehow doubt she's under Imperius."

"Too bad," Harry sighed, shifting his legs. "Because in that case, I think we can forget all about you adopting me. She'll never sign off on us."

"Hopeless, is it?" Snape probed. He moved Harry's feet off the couch, then sat down and took them into his lap, his fingers carefully examining the contours of the foot that had been injured. "Does this hurt? No? This?"

"Not too much," Harry passed it off. "And yeah, if she's on the up-and-up, of course it's hopeless! Draco held her at wandpoint, you insulted her, and now the Aurors get to have a field day with her whole department. She's not likely to be thrilled with this case. In fact, I bet she hates the lot of us."

"You sound... disappointed?"

"Shite, I don't know," Harry muttered. "I was getting used to the idea, all right? Or, sort of... Mostly, I just wanted it to be over. Settled, so we could finish the spell. Dudley does have a life to get back to, you know."

"Yes, I know," Snape murmured as though his mind were on other things.

"That fat witch'll hate me, maybe," Draco drawled. "The two of you'll have nothing to worry about. I mean, think about it! She's a Hufflepuff. All emotional, you know." He gave a light shudder, and viciously added, "Too bad for her the wart-removal potion has sat too long. She could have used it. Did you see her neck?"

Harry awkwardly reached around his back and arranged the couch cushions so he could lean on them. "Sometimes, I think you Slytherins hate Hufflepuffs even worse than Gryffindors."

Draco laughed, his eyes full of mirth. "Oh, well, that's easy to figure. We hate everybody, Harry. Ravenclaws are just too disgustingly smart--Severus here really should have been a Ravenclaw, but I suppose the Hat knew he'd end up being more useful to the cause in Slytherin--... and, let's see, Gryffindors are just so idiotically brave that it's ludicrous; no cunning at all... and a Hufflepuff'll weep all over you if you aren't careful. Anyway, she got an eyeful of you and Severus together, saw how he couldn't give a shrivelfig for her opinion if you were at risk. Your safety and welfare were his absolute top priorities. Shite, he even went to pains to take good care of your pet! My guess is, she'll ooze approval all over the adoption papers."

Draco sat down on the chair next to Harry and absently studied his nails.

Harry rolled on his side to face the other boy. "I... I suppose I really ought to thank you--"

Silver eyes glittered with surprise. "You did."

Snape rose fluidly to his feet, the motion careful so as not to jar Harry's feet. "Harry has a thanking-people thing. I dare say we'll have to get used to it."

What was so terrible about thanking people? Maybe Slytherins just took everything for granted, but Harry couldn't. The Dursleys had drummed it into his head that he didn't deserve anything, from anybody, and after all those years in the cupboard, after all those Christmases and birthdays without presents, he believed it. That meant, though, that maybe Snape was right, and his thanking-people-thing was a bit overdone.

Well, even if it was, he still felt compelled to detail, "Listen, Draco, I know... I er, haven't been so nice to you... but ah... well, if your father spelled that illegal Portkey, it'd probably have worked. I mean, he's no slouch of a wizard, even if he is as nasty as they come--"

"Harry," Draco interrupted. "What are you trying to say?"

Funny how hard it was to say it, when it was nothing but the truth. Harry took a deep breath. "I'm just really, really glad you were down here with me."

"I'm glad, too," Draco simply replied, and smiled.

Harry frowned, wondering if he should say more. It seemed pretty obvious by now that Draco wasn't hatching some bizarre scheme. First he'd returned Harry's wand... and now this, snatching him right out from under Voldemort's nose and figuring out that the whole evil plot was his own father's doing... Draco just had to be sincere about his change of loyalties. So... Harry should acknowledge that, right? He should say he trusted Draco...

But he couldn't say that, because even after what had just happened, it wouldn't be true. Harry knew there was something else going on. Draco's story of why he'd changed allegiances didn't really make sense. And until it did, Harry had to go with his instincts.

His frown reached his eyes as he thought about it.

Draco and Snape both gave him a careful look, but let him be. While Draco went back to his schoolwork on the table, Snape firecalled Pomfrey and asked her to drop by as soon as an opportune time presented itself.

Harry didn't think he was tired, but apparently being interrogated, then having his bones shattered and fused back together had drained all his energy. Imagine that. He thought briefly of going to the bedroom, but he didn't want to walk on his foot just yet, and asking to be levitated would just be too embarrassing. Harry slid into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes.

He was almost asleep when he felt the softness of a blanket being draped over him, and realised that strong fingers were brushing the hair away from this eyes. Snape's hand smelled vaguely of mint and cinnamon, Harry thought, turning his face into it slightly as he inhaled again.

The scent was comforting, making it seem that everything would be all right.

A thought had him surfacing momentarily, cracking his eyes though the light all at once seemed unbearably bright. "Professor? I'm sure you must have things to do..."

Snape kept stroking his hair as he picked up a Potions journal off the low table beside him and began flipping through it. "I'll stay here with you."

Harry yawned. "But your students--"

"Will be fine. I cancelled my entire afternoon to make time for the interview."

"Really?" Harry leaned into his teacher's hand, liking the feel of it. Snape's fingers were strong, his fingertips rough and callused, but that was all right. It was a hand he could trust to protect him.

"Of course. You take precedence."

"I do?"

Snape's fingers tugged a bit on his hair. "Yes, Harry. That's enough fishing, now. I'm surprised you're still conscious; the bone-breaking curse is notoriously draining. Get some sleep."

Harry couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, though through his sleepy haze he managed to complain, "You forgot you idiot child. You're supposed to call me an idiot child."

"I'll call you an idiot," Draco volunteered, his laughter floating across the room. "Idiot Gryffindor, how about that? Blithering idiot. Idiocy personified--"

"Idiot children," Snape pronounced. "Plural, definitely. Draco, finish your essay on the proper preparation of henbane for use in love potions. Harry, get some rest. Now."

"... all right...." Harry went to sleep to the sound of pages steadily turning as Snape read beside him. It was nice, he dazedly realised. Nice to have someone with him, someone who cared.

Maybe, he thought as he drifted off, Snape was more the dad type than Harry had realised.

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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other:

Chapter Forty-Two: Learn by Experience

~

Comments very welcome,

Aspen in the Sunlight


Betaed by the Fabulous Mercredi.
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