Simon says...

Das Wort ist der Mantel, in dem der Sinn
Schweigend auf seine Entkleidung wartet.
(Goethes Erben)

***

By Sunday morning Harry was convinced that his dream had only been another side-effect of Simon's potion. He wasn't even certain his scar had actually hurt, so what was the point of going to Dumbledore?

However, when Monday came, Harry had reason to believe that he had indeed experienced another one of his visions. He was standing with his fellow classmates in front of the door to the dungeon that usually hosted their potions classes. The bell had rung minutes ago, but Snape was nowhere in sight. Snape had never been late before, he usually opened the door on the dot ushering the students inside, not wasting a second of his lesson. Harry's mind wandered to his apparent vision, feeling uneasy and wondering.

The other students started to whisper, already making up reasons for Snape's lack of presence. Harry glimpsed at Hermione and Neville, who kept checking if the Potions Master wasn't being held up around the corner by a student or another teacher.

'One, I believe has left me forever, he will have to die. One to cowardly to return, he will pay of course.'

Suddenly, Voldemort's words spoken at the graveyard popped into Harry's head, causing him to stand rigid. What, if Snape had gone to Voldemort, which he very well may have done. What if Voldemort had a hunch of Snape's position as a spy? Was that the reason for Harry's vision? It wasn't like him to be worrying about Snape, but what if Voldemort had found out where Snape's true loyalties lay and forced him to reveal important, fatal information about the Order and its members...then there was a lot at stake. Or, even worse, were Snape's true loyalties with Voldemort? Did he maybe finally leave their side and tell all the information he possessed voluntarily?

"I guess someone should go and check the teachers' room." Harry heard Hermione speak up loudly.

"Yeah, I'll go," he replied quickly, before anyone else could step in. He had this nasty feeling that something bad had happened and he needed to see Dumbledore.

***

Harry climbed one of the many stairs, questioning his memory of the dream. When he reached the teachers' room, he was startled to see quite a few students form all years and houses gathered in front of it. He recognized Ethan Skinner and addressed him.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"No idea, just got here myself looking for Professor Flitwick. Looks like everyone is wondering where their teachers are. They seem to be having a meeting."

A few minutes later, the oak doors opened end expelled the teachers onto the hallway. Each indicated their respective students to follow them back to the classrooms. Harry stood on tiptoes, but still couldn't spot Professor Snape. Suddenly, the hallway had emptied, leaving Harry standing lonely in front of the door. Slowly, he advanced, and peeking inside, he wasn't surprised to find Dumbledore sitting alone at a huge table, stowing a bit of parchment into his pocket.

"Harry. Looking for your Professor?"

Harry nodded and scanned the room, but still found no trace of the Potions Master.

"Come on in."

Harry stood in the doorway, trying to decide what to do. He still didn't want to talk to Dumbledore, the pain of losing Sirius, his doubts about Dumbledore, the prophecy, his anger... it all came rushing back, leaving the missing teacher forgotten.

Something kept him glued to the spot. He couldn't leave, didn't want to. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Where's Snape?"

Dumbledore turned around, twinkling at him through his half-moon spectacles. 'He's done it again,' Harry thought and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"Professor Snape, Harry. And I don't know. Have a seat." Dumbledore moved back to his former chair, indicating another squashy arm chair for Harry to settle down on.

'No,' Harry thought angrily and turned to stare into the burning fireplace instead.

"Professor Snape is on a mission for the Order," Dumbledore continued.

"He's with Voldemort," Harry interrupted him. "I saw him." Harry, still mad at Dumbledore, didn't really want to tell him. Talking to someone sure would be nice, but couldn't it be someone else? Dumbledore's calm voice was unnerving, but wound its way into his distressed mind anyway.

"Tell me about it."

"I didn't actually see him..." he faltered. Dreams about Voldemort were one thing, but dreams about Snape?

"Keep going."

Harry looked down onto the floor, examining the tiles and biting his lip. He didn't want to explain why he hadn't came forward earlier by mentioning the Confundus Draught.

"My scar hurt...and instead of Voldemort I saw Snape. He was in his office. It seemed that the mark on his arm burned. He left his office. That's it."

"When did this happen?" Dumbledore looked at him curiously.

"Two nights ago," Harry replied, not daring to look at the headmaster, he quickly changed the subject. "What could it mean? Did Voldemort influence my thoughts again?"

"I can only speculate." Dumbledore shrugged. "I assume that since both of you bear a connection to Voldemort, it is quite possible that you can perceive each other's emotions."

"So, Snape could sense when Voldemort tries to..." He broke off, looking for the right word. "...contact me?"

"Quite possible."

Harry fell silent, once again watching the orange-red flames playing with the bricks. He unconsciously twisted his fingers. There was more he wanted to know, but his curiosity was not enough to beat his pride just yet.

"The Sorting is troubling you," Dumbledore stated boldly.

'Sure, it's reason for everything,' Harry thought bitterly, aloud he said, "Why was I sorted into Slytherin?"

"Please, Harry, take a seat." This time, Harry accepted the offer and sat back in a rather comfortable wooden chair.

"I hoped you would have learned something about the different Houses by now, or rather, about the people living within them."

"All Slytherins are on the straight track to become Death Eaters," Harry declared insolently, almost jumped out of his chair, heading straight for the door. "What am I doing here, this is ridiculous."

"I hope you didn't forget our chat of a few years ago."

'It's our choices that show what we truly are.' Dumbledore's voice haunted through his thoughts.

"But I didn't chose Slytherin. Why doesn't anyone around here get that?" Harry fought back stubbornly.

"I've been at this school for many a year, and with time I began to see each House in various ways. There were students from all Houses who later turned to the Dark Side and became Death Eaters, Pettigrew, for example, was a Gryffindor. Then there were also good, caring students who were placed in Slytherin and later fought on the good side."

"So?" Harry waved Dumbledore's explanation away with an impatient gesture of his hand. "Most of the Death Eaters are still Slytherins."

"But only due to a simple reason." Dumbledore smiled down at him, apparently not intending to elaborate further.

'Right. A simple reason. They were ignorant morons,' Harry thought vigorously.

Dumbledore, who had no hard time guessing Harry's judgment, interrupted his thoughts quickly.

"Since there are no Muggleborns in their House, Slytherins hardly ever get the opportunity to actually meet Muggleborns, get to know and understand them. This only maintains the prejudices. Voldemort uses this to his advantage, employing propaganda and promises to gain more and more followers. Would you like a lemon drop?"

Harry turned his gaze to Dumbledore but denied the offer resting in the outstretched hand in front of him. He had calmed down a bit, Dumbledore's elaboration made sense.

"You're getting along well with Simon Lestrange." Dumbledore once again invaded his musings. "Consider his relatives. The moment he entered this castle, he had a hard time fighting against prejudices. As far as I'm informed, he even tried to talk his cousin into changing his views."

Harry furrowed an eyebrow. "His cousin?"

"Mr. Malfoy. Sure you wouldn't like a lemon drop?"

'Simon and Malfoy were related. Of course,' Harry thought, remembering the tapestry he had viewed with Sirius in the Black House. 'Bellatrix Lestrange was Narcissa Malfoy's sister. He tried to recall if he had seen Simon's name on it as well, but couldn't picture the image clear enough. A determined knock on the door, announce Malfoy's presence.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, what's your inquiry?"

Draco produced his trademark sneer, while his eyes checked the room. "Where's Professor Snape?"

"Oops, I totally forgot. Come with me, both of you." Dumbledore stood and walked through the heavy doors and down to the dungeons.

All students were still gathered in front of the classroom, no one daring to leave, just because their teacher had already missed more than half of the lesson. As Dumbledore approached the group, their whispers ceased.

"Unfortunately Potions won't take place today. I can not provide a satisfying explanation to you, but Professor Snape has urgent business elsewhere. You may use this time for your own leisure."

The students grabbed their books, shouldered their bags and left the corridor with hushed voices, already speculating what the feared Potions Master could possibly be up to. When Dumbledore and Harry stood alone, the Headmaster addressed Harry again.

"I will now have to find a substitute for Professor Snape. But keep in mind, it doesn't matter in which House you've been placed, or who your relatives are. All that really counts is what you make out of it. You have enough experience to handle your situation. I'm certain that you will find your place."

Harry nodded thoughtfully and returned to his Common Room, he still had some time left before his next lesson would begin.

***

By lunch the whole school was speculating about Snape's absence. Since next to him only Ron, Hermione and Neville knew about Snape's position as a spy, the students came up excuses that became extremely far-fetched. Colin Creevey believed to know that Snape had invented a potion which turned him invisible, but was still missing the counter-potion. Another student exclaimed that Snape must have finally offered his services to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, seeing that he always wore black and had a tendency to torture students, but then blew up a potion in the Dark Lord's face and was now on the run.

***

Two days later, Potions was taught by a new, very young Professor. She had only graduated three years ago. Actually, the students should be happy that Snape was no longer around to pester them, but they soon realized that Professor Peony -- though in a very different way -- wasn't an easy person either.

Already in their first lesson, the students learn that it was a crime to use the 'poor' creatures and the 'innocent' plants and herbs as ingredients. With Hermione as her only audience, Professor Peony's lecture went on and on and on. The other students, however, had contest and whose creation was the 'most colourful' or tasted best. Only when Professor Peony talked about a Confundus Draught in their fourth lesson, did the Slytherins calm down and follow her talk intently. Sure enough, later that evening could these students be found gathered around Simon, who elaborated the changes he had applied to his version of the Draught.

***

The next Potions lesson came and they were finally allowed to brew the Confundus Draught themselves. In the turmoil of setting up cauldrons and looking for ingredients, Malfoy made a few unnoticed alterations to the instructions on the board, which went unnoticed by everyone but Harry, who couldn't resist the temptation either and silently grinned.

While the students begun cutting the first roots, Peony chattered on about the bad influence of certain charms on plants, not caring what they were doing. Close to the end of the lesson, she accidentally caught Neville adding Atropine syrup to the bubbling liquid in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

"I...uhm...I," Neville stammered, his eyes jerking to the board. "I followed all the instructions."

"But there's no Atropine on my recipe. The Potion should be colourless, not green." With a flick of her wand, she Vanished the contents in Neville's cauldron.

"Five points from Phoenix."

Moving on, she looked at Hermione's potion, which looked the exact shade of green as Neville's had.

"Another five points from Phoenix." And Hermione's potion was a goner, too.

"But..."

"Ah, talking back, are you? No but, you did wrong, accept it."

"But you wrote it on the board," Hermione said loudly.

Professor Peony smirked at her, then her gaze fell on the last line of her instructions.

"Who did that? No one leaves this room until the culprit has been caught!" she said, blocking the door with her body, shooting them all suspecting stares.

The bell rang, the lesson was over and still no one spoke. Professor Peony saw her defeat.

"Since no one claims responsibility, you will all return here on Friday afternoon," she huffed and stormed out.

While the students filed out of the classroom, Hermione and Neville looking downcast, Malfoy filled a goblet with some of his potion and offered some to his fellow Slytherins, who were having a good laugh.

***

Time passed, Snape was still missing, but everything else was back to normal. Well, as normal as things ever got at Hogwarts. By the end of October the weather changed drastically. Strong winds soared through the grounds, bringing heavy rains with them. No one left the protecting walls of the castle voluntarily. Harry took shelter in his dorm more and more often. Thinking about Dumbledore's words, trying to image how he should possibly convince Malfoy that Muggle could be his friends. Sure.

***

"May I come in?" Simon stood in the doorway. "Judging from your pasty face, you need a break from whatever you've been brooding over."

"Is there a reason why I'm here? In Slytherin?" Harry came straight to the point, hoping Simon knew an answer.

"Dunno." Simon stepped inside the room and sat down on Malfoy's bed, looking at him expectantly. Harry hesitated, but then told Simon about his talk with Dumbledore.

"So, he wants you to open their eyes," Simon stated after Harry had finished his tale.

"Sounds like it, doesn't it. But if it all is just some silly coincidence?"

""Nothing in life is pure coincidence. You have to accept your task, your destiny."

"Who says this is my destiny? I'm the Boy Who Lived, right? Isn't that enough?"

"Well, you'll never know for sure. Which brings us back to your first question." Simon smirked, apparently amused by the situation.

Harry scoffed and looked out the window. The moon was clearly visible, though the raging winds outside shoved huge clouds before it, concealing the pale light above them.

"Why don't you leave that be for now and tell me what you know about Snape's disappearance instead? You know more than the rest, don't you?" It didn't quite sound like a question.

"What, how do you..."

"Your thoughts are an open book. I sensed you were worried about something connected to his unexpected absence."

"I don't know where he went," Harry lied quickly, avoiding Simon's intense gaze, though he realized that Simon would not be fooled on this one.

"He's with...you know...him."

Harry gaped surprised. How did Simon know? But the other one smiled.

"You weren't aware that I know that he's pretending to be a Death Eater, right?"

"You know about all this? That he's acting as a spy?" The words were out before Harry could stop himself; he felt gobsmacked and now clasped his hands over his mouth. "Shoot."

Simon's smiled vanished from his face, but he nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do

"How come?" Harry backed away, suspiciously eying his friend.

"It's a long story, but Severus told me himself. I'm not su..."

"Severus?!" Harry snarled disbelievingly. "Why are you calling him by his first name?"

Simon didn't pay attention to Harry's outburst, but continued to speak, uninterrupted.

"I'm not sure whether Severus told me the entire truth, but I'll tell you all about it, if you like. And I'll eventually get to that, too."

When Harry nodded in agreement, Simon settled in a more comfortable position and took a deep breath.

"Well, I guess it starts when he first discovered the Dark Arts and their meaning. He was still a young kid, when he came to Hogwarts he broadened his knowledge immensely. After his graduation, You-Know-Who recruited Severus right away, luring him with promises of more and deeper knowledge and ways of Dark Magic. It wasn't long until Severus had worked his way up through the ranks and was accepted into the Inner Circle. He was obsessed, a true Death Eater without a conscience. He was already used as a spy back then, only for the other side. His last job was to gain a trustee inside the Ministry. The only problem was he fell for one of his potential victims. As you can imagine, You-Know-Who wasn't exactly pleased and threatened to kill her if Severus wouldn't use her appropriately and get the required information out of her. Things got out of hand, and when Severus didn't return with usable information, but she ended up pregnant, You-Know-Who was fuming. As punishment, Severus was forced to brew a potion, later feed it to her and subsequently kill her and his unborn son. He was devastated.

That was shortly before You-Know-Who's downfall. Severus suffered so much, he - being the obsessed and devoted Death Eater he was back then -- forced himself to abide by His rules again and restore his loyalties. My uncle Lucius tried to support him. About half a year later, Lucius gained custody for me and he passed me on to Severus. I was only two years old then. But nothing helped. Severus had lost his devotion for Him and swapped sides. Dumbledore took him in, gave him a job at school and his position as a spy.

It wasn't long until Lucius became suspicious of Severus. It was a game of life and death. Severus wasn't afraid of is own death, but of what could happen to me. I was too old to live with Muggles and Dumbledore didn't want me to live with the Malfoy's either, that's how I ended up with the Boots. I was way too young to understand what was happening, but as soon as I entered Hogwarts, Severus explained everything to me."

Simon fell silent and looked down onto the stone floor. Harry still didn't like Snape any better than before, but he did understand how hard it must have been for anyone to go through and take up with what Snape had endured, without snapping.

"The night he returned, Voldemort said something that sounded as if he was suspecting someone." Harry felt bad expressing his concerns after hearing what happened, and Simon reacted accordingly. He shuddered and looked away.

"Let's change the subject, there's nothing we can do right now anyway."

Harry understood easily and asked the first thing that came to his mind, a question he'd been wanting to ask for ages.

"So, how did you manage to help me during the exam?"

"Good question. When two wizards, both skilled in Legilimency -- or rather when both possess the skill, even if they've never used it before -- meet, they can use it as some kind of communication and exchange their thoughts over a short distance without saying them out loud."

"How?"

"There are two different ways. One, you're kind of 'pulling' the thoughts out of the other, second you influence the other thoughts and thus force him to 'think' yours."

"Sounds complicated."

"And yet, you already used the more difficult of the two." Simon smirked. "Maybe we should just give it another shot. I will now think of my...favourite colour and you'll try to grasp it with your mind. I bet you can achieve that."

Harry nodded, his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he looked at Simon who sat in front of him, his gaze fixed upon Harry's, apparently concentrating hard, Simon closed them. After a while of observing, Harry got the hint and closed his too. He thought of Simon sitting in front of him and suddenly a new image blurred in front of his inner eye. Slowly, very slowly it became clearer and he noticed the details.

It was summer. Simon left a castle. Hogwarts. He was wearing a robe with Ravenclaw's colours. He seemed to be in a good mood. He strolled over the meadow, taking a serpentine-like path down to the lake. He slumped down onto the soft ground and stared upwards into the bright, blue sky.

Harry opened his eyes. Bright-blue was Simon's favourite colour, he was sure of it. He looked at Simon who nodded, beaming.

"Wasn't that hard, was it?"

"It was exhausting," Harry replied, and Simon nodded again.

'Practice makes perfect,' Simon's voice echoed in his head.

"How do you do that?"

"Remember your exam? You desperately needed to ask me something and projected the thought into my mind."

"Sure, yes, but how?"

"I honestly don't know. I just do it, without thinking about how it works. Some wizards are said to be skilled enough to be able to mess with someone's mind without them noticing. They believe it's their very own thoughts, dreams, or visions."

"Lord Voldemort," Harry whispered.

"Good example. He is assumed to be very accomplished in this area. Knowing their fears and weaknesses in advance, makes it easier for him to gain followers or achieve his goals."

"How come you know that?" Harry asked a bit suspicious.

"It's all in Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. You should read it sometime. All right. We should call it a day for now," Simon concluded their lesson and waved Harry Good Night.

***

Halloween came and went without any news of Snape's whereabouts and more and more people believe him to be dead, tortured and killed by You-Know-Who for refusing to lead the Dark Wizard into Hogwarts. The Great Hall was decorated in its usual glory, Hagrid had provided another patch of enormous pumpkins. While Harry sat at the Slytherin table, observing his chatting fellow students, all anticipating another great feast, the last, slightly late, students entered the Hall. Among them, he spotted the certain confident swish of a certain deep, black robe. Gazing up, Harry noticed the disgruntled, pale face of the Potions Master. Deep shadows were visible beneath his blood-shot eyes. Somewhere down the table, Simon lightly shifted his position. A hush fell over the Great Hall while Professor Snape took his seat up front with the other teachers and took a swift swig from his goblet.

Dumbledore stood in front of them, and without remarking Snape's return, he opened the feast, so that the food appeared on each table and took his seat. Most tucked in silently, but some even shrugged Snape's reappearance off and went along with the feast as if nothing had happened.

When the last bites had vanished, Dumbledore clapped for their attention once more.

"I dearly hope you enjoyed this splendid snack as much as I did. Before you hop into your comfortable beds, I have to make a rather grave announcement. As you all are aware, Lord Voldemort has returned to power and his regrouping his former followers. Unfortunately for us, he managed to regain control of the Dementors, which is a clear throw-back for those fighting him. However, rest assured that your sleep is still as safe as ever. The wards around this castle have been strengthened. So there's no need for you to worry as long as you stay inside these walls. Good Night."

TBC