Harry Potter and the Crystalline Darkness

Chapter 17

Severus Snape leaned back and put down the quill he had been using to mark the Fifth Year essays on his desk. He frowned and flexed his fingers. His hands had been growing quite stiff in the last few weeks and while it was just a couple of weeks shy of Christmas and snow blanketed the ground outside, he didn't think it was any colder down in the dungeons this year compared to any other years. He certainly wasn't old enough to be worrying about arthritis or rheumatism or any other infirmities.

As he stared down at his hands, a shiver of pain ran down his spine. He drew in a sharp breath and stood up. This action caused the shiver of pain became something rather more and Severus was driven to his knees by the wracking pains that suddenly gripped him, just barely missing the edge of his desk on the way down. He doubled over and gasped as a wave of nausea assaulted him in addition to the pain. He fell onto his side and curled up into a foetal position, gasping and moaning slightly as the pain and nausea assaulted him. Slowly he began drawing in slow, deep breaths, trying to push the pain and nausea down slightly. He knew from his experience with the Cruciatus curse that the Dark Lord had favoured that this was the best way of doing this. When he felt he could, he slowly levered himself onto his knees and began to crawl towards the fire. He was about halfway there when he heard a knock on the door. He slowly allowed himself to fall back down onto his side as he considered what to do. As yet another wave of pain assaulted him, his decision was made for him.

"Come," he croaked as loudly as he was able to manage.

"Professor, I'm sorry to disturb..." came the cheerful voice of Harry Potter as he opened the door. The young man's voice broke off with a gasp as he saw his teacher lying on the floor in obvious pain.

Harry rushed over and crouched down next to him for a brief moment, gently touching his shoulder, then without another word he stood and darted over to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and summoned Madam Pomfrey with harsh urgency. As soon as he was sure that the mediwitch was coming he returned to Severus' side. Severus was surprised and pleased that Harry chose not to ask any inane questions, partly because he quite honestly did not have the strength to answer them, all his strength going into keeping himself conscious, but mostly because he did not have an answer to the most obvious and important question; what was wrong?

Madam Pomfrey suddenly burst out of the green flames in the fireplace and she rushed over and pulled out her wand.

"Is this how you found him?" she asked Harry tersely as she ran her wand over the Potions Master.

"Yes," Harry replied with equal brevity. He paused for a moment then continued with a confused frown on his face. "His energy colours are shot through with Murky-Yellow and Black."

"What does that indicate?" Poppy asked as she continued her examination.

"Illness...death and evil," Harry said haltingly.

Poppy flicked a quick, unreadable look at him then turned back to her examination. Severus tried to find it in himself to be angry with the two of them for talking about him as though he wasn't there but was unable to summon the indignation required through the pain and nausea.

Finally Poppy hissed through her teeth. "Poison," she said grimly. "But I don't know which." She looked down at Severus, clearly intending her next comments for him. "The diagnostic spell doesn't know this one so it's not one of the common ones. It only knows it's a poison. Still, I think a strong painkilling potion and a general antidote may just hold it off long enough for you to try a better diagnostic. Do you think you could stand with our help?"

Severus gave a small nod of his head and, with the aid of Harry and Poppy, got to his feet.

"I think we'll go through the Floo," Poppy said after consideration. "Whoever poisoned you will be waiting for some kind of confirmation and dragging you through the corridors will only give them that confirmation." She looked around Severus at Harry. "If I go through first, do you think you could get Professor Snape through with you?"

Harry nodded firmly, though confusion still lingered in the back of his eyes. The three of them made their way over to the fireplace then Poppy pulled away from Severus and quickly Flooed out of the room. Harry grunted slightly as Snape's weight was left to him then shuffled the two of them forward. He pulled one arm away and was inwardly relieved that Snape seemed coherent enough to compensate for the loss of the support. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and quickly had the two of them on their way to Hospital Wing. When they emerged at the other end, Harry struggled hard and just barely managed to keep the two of them on their feet. Poppy quickly came over and helped him manoeuvre the Potions Master onto the nearest bed. Harry collapsed onto the nearest chair with relief, tapping his fingers against his knees nervously. He felt a little odd without his cane, having had to leave it behind in Snape's office in order to help the man.

As he sat there, Snape again curled up into the foetal position he had found him in. Poppy frowned and quickly bustled off into a nearby room, returning with two small vials in her hand. She placed one of the vials on the bedside table and helped Snape drink the other. Then she repeated the process with the second potion. She then stepped back and waited. After about ten minutes the potions seemed to finally have an effect. Snape slowly stopped shuddering and he gradually uncurled and rolled onto his back, lying with his eyes closed and taking deep breaths.

"How much of an effect have those potions had?" Poppy asked with a frown.

"It is...manageable," Snape replied. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Harry. "It appears that Miss Parkinson was more resourceful than I gave her credit for."

Harry nodded absently as he stared at the Potions Master chest. Snape's eyes narrowed as he realised that the young Gryffindor wasn't precisely looking at him but at the energy colours that signified him.

"Mr Potter?" Snape said archly. "What exactly are you seeing and what is the problem?"

Harry gave a start and his sightless eyes stuttered up to the Potions Master's face. "Sir?"

"What are you seeing and what is the problem?" Snape repeated with thin-edged patience.

"Murky-Yellow and Black," Harry said in a shaken tone. "Your normal colours of Golden-Yellow and Scarlet are shot through with Murky-Yellow and Black."

"What does that mean?" Snape asked, finally starting to get a little worried at Harry's obvious shock.

Murky-Yellow is illness," Harry said softly. "The Black means evil and death. Sir..." His voice trailed off. He swallowed then took a deep breath and continued. "I'm not sure about this...Master Nhean will know more...but I think this poison has been in your system for a long time. The energy colours look...old...or at least I think they do." He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. "I just don't know why I didn't see it before," he finished softly.

Snape was startled. "You didn't?" he asked carefully. "You had your potions lesson two days ago, you didn't see anything then?"

Harry paused and thought back then shook his head. "No, there was no sign of the Murky-Yellow or the Black. The only change I've seen in your energy colours since I first learnt how to use my Oversight was that the Blood-Red Brown faded after your role as a spy stopped."

"Would you have noticed if you weren't looking for the change in colours?" Snape probed.

"Yes," Harry replied. "The colours are pretty vibrant and it's usually pretty obvious when there's a change. I noticed the Blood-Red Brown disappearing, didn't I?"

Snape grunted and sat up. He swung his legs around and stood, swaying slightly before he managed to hide it.

"Severus! What do you think you are doing?" Poppy said fiercely.

"I am going back to the dungeons to try and find out what this poison is," Snape replied with acid precision. "I cannot do that from here."

Poppy opened her mouth to object but closed when she realised that she really couldn't. She just didn't have the expertise required to do this. Harry watched this with interest then he looked at Snape again and his eyes narrowed.

"Professor, could you please hold your hands out?" he asked politely.

Snape looked at Harry suspiciously but complied. There was a small silence as they all saw the way the Potion Master's hands were shaking. Snape quickly snatched his hands away and tucked them into his robes.

"Let me go and get Hermione," Harry said pragmatically. "You can't make a potion with your hands like that and you know she's the best Potions student you've had in years."

Snape scowled fiercely and opened his mouth to object.

"Sir," Harry said firmly, before he could say anything. "You know I'm right. I know you don't like it but if you try to make a potion with your hands like that, you'll probably make a mistake and that might just make things worse." Harry sighed and looked up at Snape with a rueful expression. "Sometimes, sir, you just have to accept help from people, even when you don't want it. I learnt that one last year," he said with a wry smile.

Snape's scowl deepened then he finally drew his robes around him and swept towards the door in a close approximation of his usual manner. As he opened the door, he paused.

"Tell Miss Granger not to tarry, Mr Potter," he said over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

Harry watched him go and stood. He gave a small quirk of a smile to Madam Pomfrey then made his way out of the Hospital Wing and up to Gryffindor Tower as quickly as he could. He felt a little naked without his cane and when he got to the Tower he looked around for his friend.

"Hey, Harry," came Ron's cheerful voice from one side of the room.

Harry turned and saw his friends sitting around one of the tables. He quickly made his way over to Hermione.

"Hermione, I need you to come with me right now," he said quietly and urgently.

The bushy-haired girl looked up from her homework with surprise. "Now? Can it wait?"

"No," Harry replied firmly. "Come on."

He grabbed her arm and gently pulled her to her feet. Hermione stared at him with some surprise but came with him. He led her over to the doorway and ushered her out of the common room, ignoring the looks from his friends. Once they got into the corridor, he set a swift pace, forcing Hermione to almost jog to keep up.

"Harry!" she said indignantly. "What is going on?"

Harry slowed enough to let her catch up then grabbed her arm again and continued hustling her down the corridor.

"There been a bit of a problem," he muttered in a low tone. "Professor Snape's been poisoned."

"What!" Hermione gasped.

"Quiet!" Harry ordered. "We don't want whoever did this to know that they've succeeded."

Hermione gulped and nodded vigorously as she kept up with Harry with no complaint. "What poison is it?"

"Madam Pomfrey didn't know," Harry replied tersely. "And it obviously wasn't one that Professor Snape recognised by the symptoms. Madam Pomfrey gave him a pain-killing potion and a general antidote but they're only holding off the poison, not curing it."

"So what does he need me for?" Hermione asked.

"Because his hands are shaking," Harry replied as they made their way down to the dungeons. "He can't make any kind of potion at the moment. You're the best student in the school in Potions. If you don't know what needs to be done, he can direct you." Harry hesitated. "Just don't be surprised if he's a bit vitriolic. He's not happy about being poisoned or needing the help."

Hermione gave a quick grin. "I can imagine," she said dryly.

By this time they had reached Snape's classroom and office and Harry knocked once and pushed the door open. They walked in to find the Potions Master dumping some books on the front table. He looked up at the two students and scowled.

"Well, Miss Granger?" he snapped.

Hermione's eyes widened imperceptibly at the tone of voice then she sighed and walked up to the front desk in a business-like manner.

"I'll need a list of the symptoms," she said as neutrally as possible.

Snape whipped around and swayed for a moment then he stalked back into his office and emerged with a piece of parchment and Harry's cane. He thrust the parchment into Hermione's hands and then stalked over to Harry.

"I believe this is yours," he growled as he thrust the cane at Harry.

Harry grabbed it quickly. "I'll, er, leave you to it. I don't think I'd be of any help."

"Indeed you would not," Snape said with a hint of his old nastiness before turning and heading back to the pile of books on the front desk.

Harry swallowed the almost automatic retort, knowing that not only did Snape probably not mean it but also that Hermione really wouldn't want him getting Snape any more riled than he was now. He made his way silently out of the room and left them to it.

While this was happening Hermione had been silently reading the list of symptoms. When she finished, she frowned and looked up at Snape.

"You've been getting stiff joints for a couple of weeks," she observed. "Could this be something you took a while ago and is only kicking in now?"

A muscle in Snape's cheek twitched. "That is possible," he said coolly. "Or it could be something that has been building up gradually. However, you are not here to read your way through my library. I need you to make the following potion. You will find all the equipment and ingredients you need in my workroom."

He shoved another piece of parchment into Hermione's hands and pointed her towards his workroom, which had an entry from the classroom. She looked down at the parchment and her eyes widened. This was by far the most complex potion she had ever seen. She looked up at Snape with the closest thing to panic he had ever seen on her face.

"Er, sir? I've...never made anything this complex before," she stammered. "Erm, I think maybe you ought to supervise me for this one."

Snape scowled. "I do not have time for that, Miss Granger. I think if you can manage to brew the Polyjuice potion in Second Year in a girls' lavatory, you will have little trouble with this one. It merely looks complex."

Hermione swallowed and nodded. She did recognise the name of the potion; it was one that, with the addition of three drops of the victim's blood, would identify any foreign substances in the blood. It wouldn't identify the poison but it would identify the ingredients in it and for an unknown poison that was probably the best way to go about figuring out what it was.

She slowly made her way into Snape's workroom and looked around. The Potions Master had laid out everything she would need and she took a deep breath and walked over to the table. She placed the parchment down where it would be easy to refer to and set to work. It would take her nearly two hours to brew this properly and she had a hunch that Snape would need the antidote as soon as possible.

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Two hours later, Hermione leaned on the table and looked down into the cauldron with relief and a certain amount of pride. The potion looked perfect and was ready for the three drops of blood. She picked up the vial that had been provided and carefully ladled some of the potion into it, capping it once she was done. Then she walked back into the classroom to find Snape sitting at the front desk, surrounded by open books and clearly in some pain.

"Professor Snape?" she said hesitantly. "I've finished, it's ready."

The Potions Master looked up and Hermione could clearly see the pain etched into his face and hidden in his eyes. He gestured imperiously for the vial and examined the potion carefully.

"Well done, Miss Granger," he admitted reluctantly.

He stood and slowly made his halting way into his office. A large piece of parchment sat in isolation on his desk with a small knife beside it and he sat down in his chair. He rested the vial in a holder and picked up the knife. He stared down at his trembling hand for a moment then looked over at Hermione, who was standing in the doorway with an uncertain expression on her face.

"It seems you will have to do the honours, Miss Granger," he said with irritated resignation. "I fear I may do myself considerable damage if I try."

Hermione swallowed and nodded. She walked over nervously and took the knife from him. He offered his hand to her and she licked her lips before squaring her shoulders in determination. As Snape watched, all nervousness flooded out of her and she took his hand with a surprisingly firm grip. She swiftly prodded at his finger and when the blood welled, she quickly grabbed the vial, uncapped it one-handed and allowed three drops of his blood to fall into the vial. The blood caused the potion to seethe for a moment then it settled down and changed colour from clear to a deep ruby red.

"Pour the potion onto the parchment," Snape ordered as he pulled a small piece of cloth out of his robes and wrapped it around his abused finger. "Let it pour at the top and run it from side to side."

Hermione nodded and did as she was asked. The potion stood on top of the parchment for a moment then seeped in. They waited for a moment then spidery lines began to crawl out of the potion stain at the top. The spidery lines began to form the names of potion ingredients and Hermione quickly grabbed another piece of parchment and began to write them down. Her face got paler and paler as the potion ingredients appeared. Essence of belladonna, bubotuber pus and hellebore were all listed. Then an ingredient appeared that caused her to gasp; basilisk venom. When the red writing finally stopped, Hermione had a list of ingredients that horrified her. Many of them were deadly in their own right and she couldn't imagine what they would do combined together. She looked at Snape and was surprised to see that he seemed to look almost resigned.

"Sir?" she said softly. "Do...do you know what this poison is?"

"I believe I do," Snape replied acidly.

He levered himself to his feet and disappeared through a second door in his office. Hermione watched him with surprise. It was commonly believed that that door led into Snape's private quarters but, whether it did or not, she had no intention of invading his privacy by following. Before she could do anything else, Snape reappeared with a small black leather-bound journal in his hand. He sat down at his desk again and started flipping through it. About halfway through, he found what he was looking for and stopped and began reading. Hermione leaned forward slightly; the journal was handwritten and the writing looked like Snape's. After a few minutes, Snape sat back in his chair and hissed with pain, fatigue obvious on his face. He shoved the journal in Hermione's direction and she nervously picked it up and began to read. On the page was detailed a poisonous ink owned by a Tybalt Parkinson. Snape had included the known ingredients of the ink, the actions of the poison and the antidote, all of which had been conveyed to him by Tybalt Parkinson.

"Well, I guess this puts Pansy right in the middle of this," she muttered sourly under her breath as she read. When she was done, she looked over at Snape. "Well, there is an antidote to this, sir."

"It takes three weeks to brew, Miss Granger," Snape said irritably.

Hermione looked down again at the antidote instructions. "I could do it," she said firmly. "It's certainly less complex than the one I just brewed."

Snape snarled silently then winced as he was once again assaulted by pain. He wasn't sure if his irritation was caused by the pain or his current helplessness. He knew from the reading he had just done to refresh his memory that this current level of pain was only the start and that he had three very evil weeks in front of him. Finally he nodded.

"Very well, Miss Granger," he said as he pushed himself to his feet. "I believe you will find everything you need in my workroom. I trust that you will see the wisdom in beginning this immediately. I must see the Headmaster to make some arrangements."

Hermione nodded and dashed off for the workroom. She had read everything on those two pages in the journal and was aware that Snape was going to be in incredible pain by the time she finished brewing the antidote. Behind her she heard the fire flare then she turned her attention solely to the job in front of her.

Once she had the brewing process started, she turned back to the journal. She could only do a small amount tonight then the potion would have to simmer for three days before she could continue. It would have to be stirred three times clockwise and eight times anticlockwise every six hours so she took careful note of the time when she set it to simmer. She stepped back and stretched; she had been working for a solid hour on the antidote. She closed the journal and carefully placed it on a shelf above the simmering cauldron then she walked out into the classroom where she found Professor Dumbledore waiting for her.

"You've got it started then," he asked quietly and she nodded in reply. "Excellent. I have arranged for you to be able to leave you classes whenever you need to in order to continue the process of brewing this potion. Professor Snape has requested your aid in helping him mark homework; he intends to continue teaching for as long as he can."

"Of course, sir," Hermione replied, slightly surprised that Snape had made that request though she felt it had not been made in the almost polite way that the Headmaster reported. "I'll do whatever I can to help." She hesitated. "I take it he told you that the poison ink was owned by Pansy Parkinson's father."

"Yes, indeed," Dumbledore said sternly. "I think Miss Parkinson and I need to have a little chat tomorrow morning about the appropriateness of her actions. I may need to call in the Aurors." Hermione looked startled and Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and continued. "Attempted murder of a Hogwarts teacher is a serious matter, Miss Granger."

"Yes, I know," she stammered. "I just...she was probably told to do this by Draco, sir."

"Yes, I am aware of that," Dumbledore replied wearily. "Both Mr Potter and Madam Pomfrey had already come to see me before Professor Snape contacted me." He paused and sighed. "Harry was most upset that we had not kept a closer watch on Miss Parkinson."

"He did warn you," Hermione pointed out as diplomatically as she could. "A number of times."

"Yes, I know, my dear," Dumbledore sighed. "And he warned Professor Snape several times as well. I fear we did not see things as clearly as he did."

Hermione wilted a bit. "Well, Blaise, Millicent and the other Slytherin DA members didn't see anything unusual either and they were certainly looking." She paused. "They won't be happy with Pansy and her cronies, sir. They're very proud of Professor Snape."

"I shall take that as the warning it is," the Headmaster said with a small smile. "Now we have already taken into custody all of the homework submitted by Miss Parkinson and her friends that Professor Snape still had. I shall be getting Alastor Moody to examine that but I would ask you not to touch any homework that they submit in the next few weeks."

Hermione swallowed and nodded. "I'd better go, sir. The potion needs to be stirred every six hours at this point and I'll need to get some sleep."

"A wise idea," Dumbledore said with a kind smile. He then offered a key to Hermione. "This is a key to Professor Snape's workroom. His classroom door is always open but he generally locks his workroom each evening."

The Headmaster gave the door to the workroom a significant look and Hermione smiled wryly. She walked over and locked the workroom door with the key and when she turned around again the Headmaster was beaming at her, his eyes twinkling.

"Off you go now, my dear," he said and Hermione did not hesitate to obey. She was going to have a tiring three days of constantly watching the clock and she wanted to make sure she got enough sleep.

She walked briskly through the silent corridors and considered what had happened tonight. Anger seethed within her at Pansy's actions and she snarled silently. Draco! It had to have been his idea! He had been given the order by Voldemort last year and obviously thought it would be a good idea to carry it out even though it could hardly benefit anyone now. She sighed and let the anger go as much as she could; it wouldn't help her to get worked up right now and she knew that Harry was going to be angry enough for all of them. He had warned them and warned them and not been properly heeded. She didn't think he would actually be that angry at Professor Snape but she imagined that the Headmaster had been on the receiving end of some sharp words. She chuckled as she walked up to the portrait of the Fat Lady; Harry's temper was more under control these days but when he did let loose, he tended to be more creative.

"Canary creams," she said to the Fat Lady and the portrait door swung open. She crawled through the entrance hole into the common room to find Harry pacing in front of the fire. Ron was slouched in one of the chairs, Ginny was curled up on the couch and Neville was fast asleep in another chair. Harry swivelled around as she entered as Ron kicked at Neville's feet to wake him.

"Well?" Harry demanded.

Hermione walked over to Ron and he pulled her down onto his lap. She snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around her comfortingly and she sighed with relief.

"It was a poison in ink that Pansy was using for her homework," she said wearily. "A contact poison, slow acting but very nasty when it finally hits. There is an antidote but it takes three weeks to brew. I've started it but Professor Snape's in for a nasty time."

"Dammit!" Harry burst out as he started pacing angrily again "I told them! Again and again! But, oh no! What would I know?"

"Harry," Hermione said soothingly. "I think they're aware that they made a mistake. There's nothing we can do now to change that. Let's just concentrate to what needs to be done now." She sighed and continued almost absently. "I'm going have to contact my parents tomorrow to tell them I won't be home for Christmas."

"I know Dumbledore said he was going to speak with Pansy tomorrow and probably call in the Aurors," Harry said grumpily. "I assume you're brewing the antidote?"

"Yes," Hermione replied as she stood up. "Which is why I'm am off to bed right now. The antidote has to simmer for three days at the moment and I have to stir it every six hours. Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to leave any class when I need to do something for the antidote."

Harry nodded. "Go on," he said with a relieved smile. "Far be it for me to put a spanner in the works. I need to work off a bit more of my temper before I'll be able to get some sleep."

"I'll go up with you, Hermione," Ginny said with a yawn. "I know from experience that Harry just has to work through his temper on his own these days."

Harry grinned at her and grabbed her as she walked passed, pulling her in for a hug and a kiss. Ron rolled his eyes then copied the gesture with his own girlfriend. Neville groaned and pushed himself to his feet.

"And on that note, I'm going to bed," he said with a small smile. "You know it's very unfair for you lot to do that when my girlfriend is in a different House."

The two couples broke apart and laughed.

"Poor Neville," Ginny said sweetly. "Well, we won't torture you any longer."

With that she and Hermione headed up to the girls' dormitories. Ron and Harry watched them go with amusement then Ron walked over to Neville.

"Come on, Nev," he said good-naturedly. "Let's leave Harry to stew a bit longer. Some of us actually need to get some sleep before classes tomorrow."

Ron and Neville both shot mock-superior expressions at Harry then darted up the stairs, leaving Harry to himself. He shook his head in amusement for a moment then continued his pacing as his anger bubbled to the surface again. He couldn't honestly work out at the moment who he was angry at; Pansy and Draco were obvious targets as were Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape but he had to admit he was angry at himself as well. He knew that Pansy was a danger, he should have pushed harder, should have made sure that something was done.

He sighed and collapsed into the chair Ron had been sitting in, scrubbing his face with his hands. What more could really have done though? Would searching Pansy's belongings really have got them anywhere? One bottle of ink looks like another and Harry was willing to bet there was nothing obvious to differentiate the bottle of poison ink from a normal bottle of ink. His thoughts were still churning around in his mind and he was staring blankly into the fire, which he could see merely as an odd red, orange and yellow energy flow, when the portrait door opened again behind him.

"Harry, staying up all night brooding is not going to help," came Remus' gentle voice.

Harry gave a start and leaned around the chair to find his guardian walking across the common room, an amused but understanding look on his face.

"I know, Remy," Harry said heavily. "It's just..."

"You warned us all. You did all that you could," Remus pointed out logically. "What has happened has happened. It can't be changed; we just have to deal with it now. Which, if I understand correctly, Hermione is doing admirably."

"Yes," Harry replied with justifiable pride in his friend then his face fell. "But it's going to take three weeks to brew the antidote. Hermione said it's only going to get worse for Professor Snape."

Remus sighed. "Yes, I know and that's not all Hermione is going to have on her plate."

Harry looked at his guardian blankly for a moment then comprehension dawned. "Oh, the Wolfsbane potion." He gave a small laugh. "She'll complain about the workload but she'll be thrilled. She's wanted to have a go brewing that ever since we found out about it in Third Year."

"Maybe she can make it taste a bit better," Remus said humorously. "I've always suspected Severus makes it taste as bad as possible as a form of revenge."

Harry gave a snort of amusement. "That's a bit petty, isn't it?" he asked with a slow smile.

"Ah, and thus you sum up the relationship between the Marauders and Severus Snape," Remus drawled with amusement. "Petty and stupid, the lot of us."

Harry gave another snort of laughter then yawned.

"Maybe you should try getting some sleep," Remus observed.

Harry smiled at his guardian. Remus had done it again. There was something about the werewolf that never failed to calm Harry down. He wasn't sure what it was, maybe just the man's unfailing good humour and ability to see the best in everything, but it always worked.

Harry stood and stretched. "Good idea," he said with another yawn.

Remus stood and Harry walked over and he drew the young man into a hug. He was always inwardly pleased that Harry was still willing to be hugged by himself and Sirius. Most boys his age scorned such things but Remus suspected that Harry was making up for a lot of neglect. Harry gave his guardian a slow smile and trailed off up the stairs to his dormitory.