I’ve no idea when the next chapter will come out, but I can promise you that the next chapter has more slash than any of the previous ones.I am going to take a small break from writing ATOR for some obvious and not so obvious reasons.First of all, it’s Christmas.That means, for me, like most of you, I have less time to read and write.Secondly, I have another fic that I really want to finish the first chapter of, and it’s my personal policy to work on one fic at a time, or else I get mixed up and try to do crossovers.And trust me, you do not want to see one of my crossover fics.They are long, involved, complicated and very, very angst.I am also working around New Years, and am doing mental lists of what I will need when I move to Wellington.Moving, or so people tell me, is not conductive to lots of writing.

Warnings: Angst, slash, more angst, triads, war, angst…

Get the picture?Enjoy.

Myst

Chapter Twelve: Waiting

“Pansy.”

“Draco.”Pansy glanced up at him through her lashes.“Are you wanting to go for a walk?If you are, could we wait for a few minutes?I’m almost finished with my homework.”

Draco nodded, and ignoring her look of surprise, leaned against the wall, lazily propping it up.The fact that it had stood for centuries previous to this, and would probably stand for centuries to come was irrelevant.It was currently in need of someone to prop it up.Besides, acting unpredictably around Pansy and the other Slytherins was always good.It meant that they never knew what to expect from him, and if he managed not to fall into a routine, they wouldn’t follow him around, because they never knew if he was going to meet someone or do his homework away from them.He smirked at Pansy as she glanced up uncertainly at him.This was fun.

“Draco?”

He pulled himself off the wall and patted it gently.It would stay standing until he needed to hold it up again.“Pansy.”He said nothing more, and didn’t even acknowledge her outstretched hand as he walked past her, knowing that she would get up and follow him.She wouldn’t have acknowledged him if she wasn’t finished.She had enough sense to realise that... or did she?

“Draco, wait!I haven’t finished yet.”

“You can finish later.”

To her credit, the abrupt transition between his being nice and being nasty didn’t seem to faze her.“I’ll catch up to you.We wouldn’t want anyone to become suspicious about the amount of time that we spend together.”She smiled sweetly at him and turned back to her work.He leaned over her and carefully placed an openmouthed kiss at the junction of her neck and shoulder.Well, it looked like a kiss.He sank his teeth into the skin, hard enough to draw blood and drew back in disgust.

“Pah.Pansy, when did you last wash?”

“This morning.I’vehad Care of Magical Creatures since then, though.”Pansy smirked up at Draco and he whacked her lightly on the arm.

“You should stay clean.It’s good public relations.”He noted with interest the large bruise that was forming on her neck.“And it’s not like the professors don’t already know what we’re doing when we’re alone.”

“You mean that we’re....”

“Pansy,” said Draco warningly and she stopped.He shouldn’t have to remind her at this stage to keep what they were doing secret.Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry about her when they finished school after all, if she kept on making such stupid mistakes.

“Draco, I didn’t mean anything, honest.And it’s not like no one here knows what we’re really doing...”

“Security,” he said mildly.“You should know better by now.Come on then.”

“But I’m not finished....”

“Finish later,” Draco snarled.He wanted this over and done with.She scowled and followed him out of the common room, muttering words he pretended not to hear under her breath.

“So,” she demanded as soon as they were in the room and the privacy spells were up, “What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait?”

Draco smirked.“Oh, it could wait,” he said mildly, “But then you’d be even less happy with me than you are now.”

“What is it?”

“Now, Pansy, be nice.”

“I don’t fucking well have to be nice to you, Draco Malfoy.You’re my instructor - nothing more and nothing less - and we’ll be on the same level when we leave, so just tell me.”

Draco raised a silver eyebrow at her outburst.Really, if she kept on doing that, she wouldn’t be a threat to him when they were released from Hogwarts.“You are both correct and incorrect,” he said glacially when she had finished.“I am your instructor - nothing more, nothing less... at this stage -” he allowed a small smile to cross his lips.Pansy drew back, obviously worried about her safety.As she should be.“But because I am your instructor, you should be nice... or at least polite to me.It’s good politics.You may be correct. We might be on the same level when we leave.However, my father is more powerful than yours within our organisation, and family loyalties do come into play with the internal politics of our service.So, would you care to rephrase what you said?” There. He’d left her a small opening.Now... would she have enough sense to use it?

Pansy bit her lip, evidently trying to think of what to say.“My apologies... Instructor.I should not have spoken as I did.”Her voice was mild but her eyes blazed.He had just humiliated her.That could be a bad move.

“Correct.Torturo.”Pain was the best way of teaching her this particular lesson.He didn’t particularly like Pansy, but this was his first real test of loyalty from You-Know-Who and it would reflect badly on him if she failed the initiation.“Finite Incantatem.”He looked at the boneless heap in front of him.She should’ve been able to handle that much pain.Shrugging, Draco prodded her with his foot.“Get up.”

She squirmed around until she was sitting up and facing him.“Draco...”

“I said get up.You need to be able to handle this pain, Pansy.Have I taught you nothing about pain control?”

Her face turned sulky.“You should try being under that curse and...”

“I have,” Draco interrupted sharply.He hadn’t wanted her to be the first one to know this.Potter....“It is one of the reasons that I am the one who has been chosen to train you.I have been through everything I have done to you, and worse.”

Pansy clutched her wrist reflexively as she stood up, still somewhat shaky.“Even the wrist?”

“It wasn’t my wrist.”Her eyes scanned him, as though by looking hard enough they could find where the break had been.“Enough.”

She nodded.“So, what did you want to tell me?”

Draco drew the parchment out of his pocket.“You are to have your initiation over the Easter break.”

“Really?!?”Pansy’s eyes lit up and she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.Draco forced himself to respond, trying not to think of another pair of eyes... dazed green ones instead of thrilled brown ones.Fortunately for him, she drew back from the kiss fairly quickly, although her arms stayed attached around his neck.“Thank you, thank you, thank you.However can I thank you?”

“By unwinding yourself from around me.You’re creasing my robes.”

“Oh.”Pansy drew back, slightly abashed.“What’s it like?What do I do?What should I wear?”

Draco sighed and prepared to answer all the questions that he could.He’d gone over all this previously for no reason, apparently.

* * * * *

Ron glanced over to where Seamus sat in the classroom they had claimed for studying.Seamus was teasing Harry and Hermione again.He wasn’t sure who he was more jealous of; Hermione for being near Seamus, or Seamus for making Hermione laugh.He scowled and looked back to his work.They had to get as much of their holiday homework done before the Easter break, which started at the end of the week, because Professor Grey wasn’t sure how much time it would take to train them.And they had to study for the N.E.W.T.s over the break too.It looked like this break wouldn’t be very restful.He glanced up at the three on the other side of the room.They would have to invite some of the other seventh year Gryffindors here to study occasionally, because otherwise it would look suspicious.And Seamus needed to keep up his relationships with his other friends.Dean wouldn’t be wrapped up in Lavender forever, and when they came out of that rosy haze they were currently occupying, Dean would want to spend time with Seamus again.And Seamus needed more than just their company.Ron wasn’t sure how he knew this, but it just seemed obvious to him, although it had apparently escaped Hermione’s notice.He wasn’t sure what Harry thought.For all that they had been best friends for nearly seven years, he sometimes didn’t know what to think of Harry - or what Harry thought of some things.He sighed and after another wistful glance in their direction, turned back to his work.

“Ron?”Seamus came up behind him, and wrapped his arms around his neck.Ron jumped.Seamus was an incredibly tactile person, and despite growing up in a large family, he found it a bit hard to deal with sometimes.

“Would you not do that?” he demanded irritably, twisting out of the loose grasp.Seamus looked hurt.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Seamus said cheerfully, sitting at the desk besides his.“Get out on the wrong side of bed this morning, Ron?”

“No.Just don’t like being startled like that.”

“What,” teased Hermione gently, “You think it might be a spider?”

Ron shuddered. “Don’t even think about it,” he said sharply, catching the interested look on Seamus’ face.“You do and I kill you.”

“Or at least severely damage you,” Harry put in, pulling out his own homework.

“All right, all right.” Seamus held up his hands placactingly.“I won’t put a spider anywhere near you.”

“Good.”

“Are we all right now?” asked Hermione, “‘Cause we do have some work to do.”

They all nodded.“Oh, wait,” said Ron, deciding to tell them his thoughts, “About this room.It’ll get suspicious if we don’t invite the other seventh years here at least some of the time, so we’ll have to arrange that with Professor Grey to get suitable times.”

Harry nodded.“That sounds good.You realise that you’ll have to work your times with Professor Grey if you do that, and there will probably be some clashes?”

“Yes, I know.Do you think we should tell another one of the professors about us using this room?”

“Why don’t we ask Professor Grey to run interference for us?” asked Seamus.“She should know what to say to the other professors.”

“I’ll get her to tell Professor McGonagall,” said Hermione.“If she says that the original request came from me, McGonagall should believe it.It wouldn’t be so natural coming from... say, you, Seamus.I know you know we need to study,” she added hastily at Seamus’ disgruntled look, “But it will be more realistic and natural if the original request comes from me.”

Ron nodded decisively.“That’s what I was thinking.Is it all right with you, Seamus?”

“Yeah sure.What about you, Harry.Will you be present at much of our training or studying here often.”

Harry shook his head.“Not unless I can’t study elsewhere or I’m needed as a punching bag or something like that.I have other things to do for the League over the break.”

“Like what?” asked Seamus curiously two seconds before Ron kicked him on the ankle.

“Classified,” said Harry firmly.“I’ll do your contact a favour and give you your first lesson now.Don’t ask questions about what people are going to be doing for the League.The less you know, the less you can give away if you’re captured.”

“I wouldn’t tell them anything!” said Ron indignantly.“You know me better than that, Harry.”

Harry shook his head ruefully and closed his eyes.When he opened them again, Ron could see a dark knowledge in those emerald eyes that suddenly seemed far older than Harry’s 17 years.“Trust me, Ron,” he said eventually.“With enough time and resources, Voldemort can break anyone.”

“How do you know?” asked Hermione.“Maybe there’s someone that you don’t know about.”

“I doubt that.”

“Couldn’t well, couldn’t someone like Sirius, who’s sane after 13 years in Azkaban survive and not break?” pressed Ron.

“Sirius is not precisely sane,” Harry said slowly, “And if he lost any of his triad, he would die.They all would.But someone like Sirius would rather die by his own hand than fall into Voldemort’s hands.”His eyes looked bleak and haunted.“And I’m not sure that even Sirius would survive a long period in Voldemort’s hands without breaking.Of course, by the time he did break, the Mastermind and the others would’ve had time to change all the codes that he knew and everything like that.We all have our breaking points,” he told them, making careful eye contact with them, so they knew he was serious and understood what he was saying.“It’s just that some take longer to break than others.”He shrugged.“From what I’ve gathered from talking to people, you break for different reasons too.For you it might be physical pain.For me it might be something else.”

Ron looked at Hermione and Seamus and they all nodded slowly, taking in what Harry had said.

“That makes sense,” Hermione told them quietly.

Harry nodded, but didn’t say anything else.

“Hey, Harry,” said Seamus, trying to lighten the somber mood that they now found themselves in, “Have you ever considered seeing a psychologist?‘Cause you evidently think about that sorta thing far too often.”

Green eyes widened.“You want me to do what?”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to,” Seamus said hastily, trying to extricate himself from the hole he’d just dug for himself.“I asked if you’d ever considered it.I was joking, Harry.”

Harry glanced up from studying his hands intently.“Sorry, Seamus.I’m just a bit on edge at the moment.”

“How come?”

“League business.”

“So you can’t tell us?”

“Not yet.You haven’t been trained yet, so I can’t.Maybe after.”

“Okay, Harry.Lets get some work done now, shall we?”

“Yes, Hermione,” sighed Ron, and picked up his work again.Obviously he wasn’t as stupid as he felt sometimes, if everyone had thought his suggestion was as sensible as he did.A thought flashed into his mind about the blind leading the blind, and he chuckled, getting started looks from the others.“Sorry, private joke.”

* * * * *

Harry stretched idly as he sat down at a table to do some work in the common room.He couldn’t be bothered going to either the music room, which he preferred [because of the associations?] queried a voice in his head, or the fourth floor classroom Ron, Hermione and Seamus had co-opted for their work.Quidditch season was over.Finally.It seemed strange to him that all the younger students still found Quidditch to be completely fascinating and of the utmost importance, whereas for him and the older members of the team it had receded in importance until practices and games were a blot on the week in which they couldn’t be working for exams or against Voldemort.He still loved flying.When he was flying he didn’t have to think or do anything complicated like that.All he had to do was be.Sure, the games were fun, but it took time away from more important things.

“Great game, Harry,” said a fourth year he didn’t know.He nodded and went back to his musings.It was nearly time for bed.One more day and the Easter holidays would start.And he and Draco could finally activate the Message Crystal.But for now, there was some homework to be done.

“You know what Sirius said to Hermione about having fun?” asked Ron quietly as they watched Harry write an essay from a couch by the fire.

“No.”Seamus didn’t even bother looking up from the Arithmancy problems that he was doing.

“He said she shouldn’t forget how.I wonder if that goes for Harry too.”

Seamus put his quill down and looked at his friend.“He’s probably just overwhelmed with it at the moment.D’ya ever feel like that when you look at the whole of a thing for a while and see everything that needs to be done and you think you could never get it all done?But then you break it down into smaller parts and you get it done after all, and it wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be?That’s probably what he’s feeling like.”

“That’s really insightful, Seamus.”Ron sounded impressed.“I’ll go and talk to him.”

“Fine.” Seamus rolled up his parchment.“I need to talk to Dean anyway.See if I can drag him away from Lavender.”

“What’s wrong with Lavender this time?”

“Oh, she’s being clingy as usual and that means I can’t talk to him.The worst part of it is he doesn’t seem to mind.”Seamus sounded frustrated and didn’t care who knew it.“It’s not like we’ve been best friends since first year after all.”

“He probably thinks you’ve got us now, so you don’t need him.”

“Silly twit.And it’s not that... this was happening before I hooked up with you guys.I suppose he thinks that.When he thinks at all.”

“You sound bitter.”

“Well, duh.That was my intention you know.It wasn’t that hard to understand.At least, I don’t think it was.Considering your intelligence it may be...”

“Enough.”Both Ron and Seamus looked around to see Neville standing there quietly.“I wanted to borrow Seamus for a bit and I couldn’t help overhearing the last bit of your conversation.There’s no need to get mad at Ron because of something he didn’t do and can’t help.”

“Eyah...” Seamus gave Ron a sheepish smile.“Sorry, Ron.Didn’t mean it.”

“Humph,” muttered Ron.“Okay.Just don’t do it again, ‘kay?”

“Okay.Friends?”

Ron couldn’t help laughing at the expression on Seamus’ face.“Friends.” He held out his hand, expecting Seamus to shake it in the tradition of all English public schools, but Seamus ducked it and gave Ron a hug.Ron stiffened in the unexpected embrace.

“Relax,” Seamus whispered in his ear.“I won’t let go until you do.”

Ron snorted his opinion of that particular idea.

“I mean it,” Seamus warned.“And people are already beginning to stare.”

“I am relaxed.”

“No, you’re not.”

“This is as relaxed as I get when someone’s hugging me.I always think they’re going to put something horrible in my pockets or things like that.”

Seamus squeezed him tightly and then let go.“You’ve lived with the Weasley twins for far too long.” He laughed and Ron stepped back out of his reach.

“I know,” he said fervently.

“Anyway,” Neville interrupted quietly, “Can I speak to you, Seamus?”

“Sure.Ron?”

“I get the hint,” said Ron, “I needed to go and talk to Harry, anyways.”

“Okay.”They disappeared in different directions.Ron to talk to Harry and Seamus to go and do whatever Neville wanted him to.

* * * * *

Hello?Sarainail sent the gentle thought towards the two men that made up the rest of her triad.Beloveds?There was no answer, so she presumed they were busy and settled down to wait.Fortunately, she had made the entire evening free to talk to them.

Sarai?Are you still there?The tired thought came hours later from Sirius.

Of course I am.I have the entire evening set aside for us.If you’d wanted to talk tomorrow there may have been more trouble.

She could feel Sirius nod across the miles that separated them.This is true.

Where’s the wolf?

I haven’t heard from him, love.I thought you had.

No, I thought he’d meet us here, now, same as we arranged last time.Is he in trouble, do you think?

I haven’t felt anything.You’re more sensitive to emotions than I am, elf, have you felt anything?

No.It’s like he’s vanished without removing himself from our hearts.He’s not responding to any of my thought calls, and nor to any emotions that I’ve sent it.I’m getting worried.

Weren’t you worried about me?Sirius sounded teasing, but she answered him seriously.Even though they loved each other as much - if not more - than they had before their Exile, there were still issues to work through and the amount of concern they felt - or showed - for each other was one of them.

Of course I was.It’s just that Remus is always fast to respond, whereas because of circumstances, you can take a while to answer.

Sirius seemed satisfied with her reply.It really isn’t like him to be so long.Want me to give him a call, Sarai?

If you would, that would be wonderful.Your mental calls have all the force of a Bludger.

But you have the skill, my love.

And Remus the subtlety.Together we are a cord that cannot be broken.

And we’re missing our third.

She said nothing.What else was there to say after all.Triads were rare, and balanced triads were even more so.And with their triad, two of them could not stay together without their third.They’d tried, her and Remus, in the years immediately after her miscarriage and Sirius’ imprisonment, but it hadn’t worked.Sure, they hadn’t needed all the room on their bed like they did when there was three of them, but that was an extremely small benefit to gain from the loss of their third.Besides, their bed in the Tower was could sleep three very active people and have some room to spare for the book or two that would get lost amongst the covers when one of them jumped the others. She sent a mental image of that to them and Sirius groaned.How am I supposed to concentrate on getting Remus when you send something like that to me?It just makes me...

Horny? asked a voice which had not been there two seconds before.

Remus!!!!!

Where have you been, beloved?

We were worried.

You didn’t come when I called, and I’ve been calling for ages.

We missed you.

It wasn’t right without you....

A sheepish silence followed.I’m sorry I worried you all.

Where were you? Sirius demanded.We couldn’t feel anything!

I was...A deluge of images followed, and Sarainail gasped at their import.Remus, alone, in their bed... playing...

You still could’ve met us here, you know.

And give you all messes to clean up?

We wouldn’t mind, lover, Sirius said fondly.Just because we can’t touch each other physically, doesn’t mean that we can’t play - He delicately emphasised the word play so that none of them had any doubts to what type of playing he was referring to - here.

I rather like a combination of the above, Sarainail put in, With both of you... one in me and one in you... and we feel what the others feel with the mind link.

Last time we did that, we didn’t get out of bed for a week.His words may have sounded slightly scolding, but the tone showed Remus’ longing for a repeat performance far more clearly.

And wasn’t it fun?Sirius cut in, sending her a mental image of them curled up together in their bed during that week.I hated getting up.

Sarai had to get Harry.

We’re not going to be able to do that this summer.Isn’t he coming home with you, Sarai?

He will have missions, won’t he? Sarainail sounded vaguely alarmed.She knew things would change with a teenage boy in the Tower, just as they had last summer, but this time they didn’t get the break at the beginning before he arrived, since he didn’t have to go back to the Dursleys.

Yes, but I’ll be going with him until he gets used to it.So will you two, sometimes.

You’re not leaving us out then?Good.Remus sounded satisfied.

Do you really think I could stop you?

No.Sirius sent a mental grin over their link.His two lovers had replied together and in the same implacable tone of voice.

We won’t be working together very often, you realise.

Just like last time....

So long as I can come home to you two, or you two to me, I don’t really care.

That’s the spirit, Sarai.He blew her a kiss, and she sent an image of her catching it.

Don’t I get one?

Here.

They laughed, and Sarai sobered eventually.She never wanted this contact to end, the three of them together like this, heart and mind laid bare before her lovers...Work? she asked reluctantly.

Yes.

When do you start training the apprentices?

The Easter break starts tomorrow.I’ll give them a day or two, and then we start.Harry will do something with his contact over the break too, and I’ll start nagging him about meeting his contact.With the rearrangement of my organisation, I think I need to know who he is personally, and he who I am, so that he can go to someone other than Harry for help if Harry is busy or captured or something like that.

You’ll turn them over to us after the N.E.W.T.s?

Of course.Hermione I will give more training to personally.

Who have you decided on for mine?

Sirius... you are getting.... drumroll please.

Tatatata

That’s a trumpet.

It’ll do.

Quite.Anyways, beloved, you are getting Seamus Finnigan as your apprentice.

Why him? asked Remus interestedly.As I recall, he was a bit of a prankster and cheeky.

Still is.But Ron and Hermione brought him to me, after letting more slip than they should have.I told them off, of course, but the damage was done, and he was willing.More to the point, he was appropriate.Is appropriate.You should like him, lover.

All right.Do you have anything else you want to mention?

Yes.We’ve had a break in internal security recently.Someone placed a drug in a conspicuous place, enchanted to look like candy and to make the person who found it give it to someone.We don’t know what the drug was, or who put it there.I have not since found another piece, although I am keeping an eye out for it.Old Bean didn’t know either.The kids are calling it Fake Bug Poison, or FBP, so I figured that may as well be its code name for now.

Will it be recognised another time?

I imagine so.I’ve changed the internal security here slightly, so if things like that happen, the information comes to me.

Good.Anything else?

No.You?

I’ve not finished the Charm I was working on yet.And I have some plans for you, Sirius, in case these people become targets, working on current estimates of man power and things like that which you don’t want to know about.But we can discuss this privately, not here.

Sirius?

Well, I’m still free.

Wonderful.

Very clever of you.

Shut up and let me speak.

......

I’ve not run any raids since we last spoke.Figured it was time to let them relax into a false sense of security.I’ll start again in a few months, when we have people who need to learn how to do that sort of thing.

That sounds good.

And I’m eating reasonably well.

Good.

You’d better be, or I’ll tie you down again and make you eat.

Promise?

You....Sarainail spluttered into semi-incoherancy.I swear if I didn’t love you so much...

But you do.

Absolutely.

Shall we dance/meld/run? asked Remus quietly.We have the time, and I for one have the inclination.

They merged mentally, each revealing their self to the others, and the others to them until they could not tell where one left off and the other began....

* * * * *

Severus Snape sat quietly in his office, studying the latest scroll from the Potionmakers Association.He had kept up with his membership ever since he’d qualified to join the association, and Gryffindor sneers aside, you had to be damn good at Potions to join this most elite of Potionmaking groups.His entrance offering to the group had been a potion he was still very proud of.It had been a potion beyond compare.There had been 28 offerings since he’d joined - nearly one a year - but he’d never seen one as good as his.It had been similar to those he’d used in guarding the Philosopher’s Stone.It transmuted an individuals physical presence so they could walk thorough wards without being trapped, hurt or killed.It worked best if you’d designed it to get through specific wards, like the one before the Stone, but the initial one he’d offered to the Potionmakers Association was a general one, good for most wards bar the more specific and dangerous ones.The Ministry had brought the copyright off him.He still held the patent, and was paid royalties for it.It made sense.The Ministry hardly wanted such a potion to be in general use.Made good security hell.Perhaps he should inform the Four who lead the League about it.They might find it useful.

There were no offerings in this scroll.He sighed.He wasn’t entirely sure why the popularity of subjects like Potions had decreased over the past few years.Admittedly, it had never been the most popular of subjects anyway, as was shown by the small amount of people who could be classified as Potionmakers.The Association was something that he was very proud to belong to.It was for the best.Of the 28 offerings to the group that had been made since he’d joined, 15 had been declined.It wasn’t that they had been bad potions, but they hadn’t reached the standards of the Association.And of the ones he had known in the Association, 34, including eight of the people who had joined after him, were now dead.He had told the truth when he’d informed Sarainail Grey that most of them were dead.

Irritably, he perused the contents of his scroll again.There was nothing here about mood altering potions.From the information he’d managed to get from Grey, and the scraps he’d overheard in class, the drug Seamus Finnigan had swallowed was a mood altering drug, but there were so many of them around that unless he could get a sample of the drug, he would never be able to work out what one it was.Alternatively, it could be a new one, in which case he would have to analyse a sample and work out what was in it, and how it was made.

There was a tap at his door.He looked up and it and glared.“Come in,” he snarled.

It was Longbottom and Finnigan.He groaned mentally.They just stood in his doorway doing nothing but looking around at the preserved creatures, old - though clean - books and jars of various potions that lined the walls of his office.Infernal Gryffindors!Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?Not only did he have to teach them and work with them in this war, they were visiting him out of class for some godforsaken reason two days before the Easter break!

“What do you want?” he demanded.“Some people do have to work around here, you know.”

“You were just reading, Professor,” Finnigan said innocently, while Longbottom quaked in his shoes.

“I have to keep up with the latest research and development for my job, Finnigan.Now, what do you want?”

“It isn’t him, Professor Snape.”Longbottom sounded incredibly and most flatteringly nervous.Good, he hadn’t lost his touch then.He didn’t have the people skills like Dumbledore or McGonagall or most of the other teachers.But people needed to know what he had to teach them, so he taught through fear... if they feared him enough they would learn.There was also the added benefit of them not wanting to know about his personal life.If you made them fear you enough in the beginning, they never really stopped.Pity about Potter, though.“It’s me.”

He waited for Longbottom to continue, looking down with a sneer on his face.Really?Did they think he would eat them?No, his subconscious answered, They just think you’ll poison them.“Wouldn’t that be fun?” he murmured, ignoring two sets of startled blues eyes.“Well?”

“Whowouldyourecomendfortutoringinpotions?”

Snape raised his eyebrows.“Excuse me?”Finnigan wandered over to look at the creatures on the shelves - hardly surprising, since nearly everyone who had been in his office had that reaction.Particularly teenage boys.Automatically, he moved so that he could see both of them at once.Some things you never forgot, and knowing what everyone in a room was doing at a any given time was one of them - particularly when it came to his students.“Could you repeat that?One thing I have learnt in all my years of teaching Potions is that clear enunciation is vital, or an ingredient might be written down incorrectly.It is also a useful skill in the rest of one’s life.Now, repeat what you said - clearly.”

“Professor Snape...”

“Yes?”

“Um, Professor Snape... I...”

“Yes, Longbottom?”

“Professor Snape...”

“We have established that Professor Snape is my name by now, Longbottom, and if you don’t know that after seven years of being in my class, you are even more stupid than I initially gave you credit for.Continue with the rest of what you want to say to me.”

Longbottom shot Finnigan a pleading look.Finnigan sighed and strolled casually over to where Longbottom was shaking and whispered something in his ear.Longbottom straightened.Snape repressed a sigh.Finnigan was probably talking about that unfortunate incident in third year.He’d wondered then whether his tactics for teaching the students were too harsh, but by then it was too late to change.Truthfully he’d been rather amused when Lupin had told him about the boggart incident, but there had been no gain whatsoever in telling people that, so he hadn’t.To be the thing that someone feared most.Was that not the aim of all good Slytherins according to You-Know-Who?

“Professor,” Longbottom said nervously.“I know I’m not good at potions and I was wondering who I should get extra tutoring from for my N.E.W.T.s?I want to get some and I need tutoring and I didn’t want to come to you, because you’re very busy and don’t have the time or the patience to tutor me and I...”

“Enough, Longbottom,” Snape said wearily, holding one hand to his head.Longbottom stopped as though someone had zipped his mouth shut in the middle of the sentence.“Why don’t you ask Granger?She certainly thinks she knows enough to teach anyone.”

Longbottom looked even more uncomfortable that before.Apparently, it was possible.“Um.Er.Um, Hermione is very nice, but she can’t teach, and I need to learn.”

His respect for Longbottom went up an infitesimal amount.To say something like that in Hogwarts, where your House meant everything in front of the head of another House, was very brave.Perhaps Longbottom did deserve to be in Gryffindor after all.“You certainly don’t appear to mind accepting her help in class.”

“That’s because she’s the only one who is right most the time...” whispered Neville, hopelessly aware that if he was a true Gryffindor he would not be shaking.

“The only one?” queried Snape.

“Who will help me.But she can’t teach!”

“Have you asked her.”

“I tried.She’s can’t help me to learn what I need to know.”

Snape frowned.Should he be professional or give in to a petty vendetta against children who were scared of him.“Louise Rickman from Hufflepuff would be the best one to help you.”It looked like he was being professional after all.Well, wasn’t that a nice surprise?

Longbottom’s mouth dropped open.“Thank you, Professor,” he stammered.

“Go,” he snapped.“I have work to do.”

“Yes, Professor, thank you, Professor.”Longbottom dashed out the door, swinging around the door jamb to prevent himself from crashing into the wall, with Finnigan close behind.He breathed a sigh of relief as they left.Now he could do some work.

* * * * *

Draco sprawled lazily on Pansy’s bed, watching her pack.“You know,” he said idly as she moved briskly from dresser to bed to trunk and back again, “It’d probably be easier if you tipped your drawer on the bed, and pulled your trunk over to the bed so you’d only be working in one place.”

“Are you volunteering to pack for me, Draco?” snapped Pansy.“My family has always packed this way and leading up to such an important date I want everything to be perfect.Or if not perfect, then at least acceptable to him.”

“He will never find you perfect.”

“ I know that, Draco.I just want to be as good as I can for him.”

“You sound like a girl talking about her lover,” sneered Draco.

“I wish...” sighed Pansy.

Draco sat up straight, all signs of relaxation gone from his posture.“You want to be his lover?” he demanded incredulously.

“I know there’s no chance at present - I’m young, female and not initiated yet, but at some stage in the future, I want to be.”

“You’re crazy, Pansy.Why do you want to be his lover, anyways?Is it the thrill and danger of it?”

“Something like that.”Pansy sat back on her heels and looked at him intently.“I want him to be my first, Draco.”

“You think he’ll care more about you if he’s your first?” asked Draco bitterly. “It won’t happen, Pansy-love.”

“I don’t like you calling me that, Draco.It’s not your right.”

“I can call you whatever I damn well please, sweetheart.”He sprawled back out again, as the conversation about You-Know-Who was no longer happening, and this one wasn’t nearly as interesting.

“I don’t like it, Draco.”

He gave her one of his trademarked ‘I don’t give a damn’ smiles.“And I care why?”

“Because we might need each other in the future, and you don’t want to piss me off, Draco.”

He raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself.Most people wouldn’t be so blunt about what they thought.Evidently, Pansy had decided that the best way to gain power and recognition was to appear to be blunt about her aims.Whether she was being truthful was another question altogether.For now, though, she was doing a remarkably good job of being disarmingly truthful about her real aims.He shrugged.“Regardless of all that, you could still pack faster if you had everything closer together.”

“Are you wanting to get rid of me, Draco?For someone who disobeyed the rules so he could sneak in here, you seem remarkably enthusiastic about going.”

He leaned back on her bed.“Who’s to say I’m not?”

“Draco,” wailed Pansy, unsure of whether or not he was teasing her.

“Yes, dear?”

“You don’t mean that do you?”She looked at him uncertainly.“Do you?”

“Yes, dear,” he said blandly, letting none of his thoughts show on his face.She wasn’t taking this very well.

“You can’t mean that.”

“Why not?” his voice sharpened, and she dropped the pile she was carrying reflexively.

“Because we’re perfect for each other.You have money, and position, and skills, and I have ambition, and brains and money on my side.We should get married when we finish school.We’d make a brilliant team.”

Draco checked for wards, and upon seeing that she had no silencing charms or privacy spells cast, promptly took it on himself to do so.Then he turned to her.“You dare.You dare make plans for my life?You have no right.”That, with a pain spell or two would’ve been enough to remind her of her place.But Draco was bitter and angry, and that made him go further than he would’ve otherwise, uncaring of the consequences.“Why would I want to be allied with an upstart third generation witch with no connections, a fortune that comes from trade and has no true manners?”

Pansy flinched back as though he’d struck her.

“You don’t even follow proper wizarding etiquette most of the time,” he informed her.“I only trained you because I had orders to do so.In my opinion, you’re too ambitious to be a good Death Eater, because you’ll question his orders, and you don’t have enough brains to make sure you succeed in his army.He wants loyal, trustworthy followers, and you, my dear, are out to succeed and win.You don’t have the skills to succeed in his camp.”

“How dare you!” snarled Pansy.“After all I’ve done... after how I’ve worked, you can stand there and say that?”She moved as though she would launch herself at him in fury.Draco had his wand out and was on the opposite side of the bed before she could reach him.

“I am still your instructor,” he said coldly.“You need to know your place.”

He hit her with a fairly a new spell he’d found the other day, and sat down to watch the effects.It was supposed to be mild, pain wise.The torture, the damage was done in the head.It skewed one’s perception, until you felt like you were facing backwards, when you weren’t, and altered the angle you saw it at.If you had it cast on you enough times, you could go blind.It affected the sight mainly. After watching her stumble around for a few minutes, he cut it off, and left without saying another word.It wouldn’t affect her enough so that she wouldn’t be able to finish her packing.

At the end of the corridor that led into the girls dormitory, he collected Crabbe and Goyle, and went to collect their homework.Once that was done, he would go over the rules of studying again.Maybe he could foist them off on Blaise or one of the other Slytherins.That would serve them right.And he and Crabbe still had that detention to do for harming Professor Grey.

That wouldn’t be pleasant.He wiped the frown off his face as they went to sit down in their usual spot.He really hoped that it wouldn’t be something to do with the Forbidden Forest, like the detention in first year.You-Know-Who could access him so much more easily once he’d been in there again.With a small sigh he turned his attention to their work and settles down to checking it.At least it was vaguely readable this time.

* * * * *

“Hey, Hermione, where’s Ron?”Seamus bounced happily into the common room.

He’d spent the afternoon once their classes were finished helping - or hindering - the others packing.Most of them were going home, as their teachers had recommended it, especially if they would be able to study there.There was more to it, of course, than the students had been told.The Four had discussed it amongst themselves, and had eventually agreed with the Mastermind that it would be better for most of the students to go home over Easter, as they would all be split up and less accessible.Some students, like Neville Longbottom would refuse to go because of personal circumstances, but most of them would go.Hogwarts defences were good, but they were not impenetrable, as the episode with the FBP testified, and if a single person could get inside Hogwarts to leave mood altering drugs lying around in strategic places without being caught, then more people could get in and possibly cause greater damage.If the students were scattered around the country, the Death Eaters would find it harder to track them all down, especially with the prohibition on underage magic.And the muggleborn would be the safest of all, since they did not have any family members who could use magic legally.

Hermione looked up from her book.The term might have finished but Hermione kept studying, insistent upon being the best student academically.“I don’t know.Why?”

“I figured that now would be a good time to give him that game of chess he’s been nagging me about.”

“Don’t you have some study to do?”

“I can do it later... come on, Hermione, one afternoon off won’t hurt.”

She muttered something under her breath.

“Well, why don’t you come and play too?”

“I don’t play chess.”

“Don’t or can’t?”

“Don’t.”

“Is it because you can’t?”

“Shut up, Seamus.”

“You don’t have any idea where he might be?” Seamus asked, returning to the original topic of discussion.

“You could try our study room, on the fourth floor.”

“Why aren’t you there.”

She gestured around the relatively empty common room.“Nearly everyone has found an excuse to avoid both study and being in here.Besides, I can’t be bothered lugging all these things that far.”

“You don’t have to read that much, you know.”

“Yes... well, I like knowing things... and this stuff could be useful.”

“What is it?”

“A book on music.”

“Music?Why would that be useful?”Seamus demanded incredulously.

“It’s about the Bards and their music.They’re a very fascinating group of people.I don’t know if you’d call them a guild or what, since they don’t seem to have any criteria for entering that I’ve read about, yet they’re a definitive group of people who follow similar rules.But I can’t work out what makes a Bard.”

Seamus blinked.He’d thought everyone knew what Bards were.“You don’t know what a Bard is?”

“I can’t find the definition anywhere and they look like they’d be quite useful if they were on our side.”

He sat down.This shouldn’t take too long, and then he could go find Ron.“The Bards... they’re like our Judges.They’re neutral - absolutely neutral - and they have an interesting... Sight, I guess you’d call it, that allows them to See what the truth about a person is.I don’t really know how to explain it... they are our nobility... they give everything of themselves and in return we look after them.”He trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

Hermione finished scribbling down notes.“Go on.”

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you about them, since I’ve always known about them... kinda like background knowledge, you know?Like how you were surprised that our photos move... something we take for granted.Why don’t you just ask the questions and I’ll try to answer them?”

“All right,”Hermione chewed the end of her quill for a minute, before spitting out bits of feather.“Yuck.You’d think I’d be used to them after seven years, but no, I keep treating them as though they’re pens or pencils.”

Seamus laughed, assuming that pens and pen-sills were writing implements in the Muggle world.

“Okay, start from the beginning.What makes someone a Bard?”

“They’re usually artistic... generally music, but it’s far more than just talent.They can tap into people’s minds, hearts and souls with what they do... manipulate people.They do have rules about what you can and cannot do, as well as spells to ensure that their laws work on themselves.Like the Neutrality one.A Bard could judge a family member with utter neutrality under one of those spells.There’s not usually one in place most of the time... it’s too dangerous to the person’s sanity.”He sighed and returned to the main question.“So, I don’t really know what makes someone a Bard... just that it’s a quality, like what makes you a witch and me a wizard, but is a lot rarer in the general population.”

“They’re rare, I take it?”

“Yesss... especially human ones.”

“There can be non-human Bards?”Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“Yes....I don’t know of many, but I know there’s at least one who is Sidhe.”

“And what do they do?”

“Mostly, they’re our most valued judges, like normally, before someone goes into Azkaban, they’re looked at by a Bard, and if the Bard decides that they haven’t done anything wrong or don’t deserve Azkaban, we have to find something else to do with that person.The process gets skipped sometimes if the Ministry is absolutely sure of a person’s guilt.”

“Like they were with Hagrid,” said Hermione sharply.

“Of course, sometimes it gets skipped because they don’t care if the person is innocent and want a scapegoat, or can’t be bothered contacting a Bard.If that happens, and a Bard finds out, the Ministry gets in a great deal of trouble.”

“Has that happened before.”

“Not this century.There aren’t very many Bards.”

“Can you request a Bardic trial?”

“Yes, but most people don’t get as far as the trial, ‘cause if you request a Bard to try you, it’s generally presumed that you’re innocent, and people look at the facts more closely, and try to get the result you want.”

“So, if someone was wrongly imprisoned, they could request a Bardic trial?”

“Yes, but if that person has escaped from prison, it’s slightly harder to arrange.”He wasn’t stupid.He knew exactly where she was leading with that particular set of questions.“But if the person grew up amongst us, or has family who did, they’re likely to have set that in motion, if they can find a Bard.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all?‘Cause I really want to go and find Ron.”

“We can talk about it later.Thanks, Seamus.”

“No prob, Hermione.”He kissed her lightly and turned to leave.

* ** * ** *