Resonance

Chapter 52 -- The Auror's Apprentice

The next day at training, Harry stood in the workout room with his fellow apprentices. He was amazed to feel very comfortable around them already. Rodgers came in, interrupting a story Aaron was telling about his grandfather trying to spell London Bridge into an arch on a bet. Rodgers was again flanked by the two senior apprentices, who looked unnaturally serious, and immediately sobered everyone's mood.

Rodgers picked up the chalk and rubbed it between his fingertips. "We are going to start with defensive counter-curses, along with some incarceration spells, since stopping someone should be immediately followed by capturing them." He drew a diagram of arcs and circles on the board around a stick figure. "Who knows what this is?"

Aaron said, "It is a Titan block, kinda." Harry blinked at the diagram, having never seen spells drawn out that way.

"Correct," the trainer said, putting the chalk back down with a loud clack on the metal tray. "It is a modulated version of it. A properly modulated block or counter is indefeatable, which is how I want you all to be when you are finished here. But it takes a great deal of practice, a very great deal, even for those who think this stuff is easy." Here he gave each of them an eying in turn. Harry tried not to feel overly confident, but found it harder than expected to think that he might have difficulty. "Ladies first," Rodgers said, inviting Kerry Ann to the front.

Their trainer walked through the practical points of modulation and repeated a set of three drills with Kerry Ann until her spell dome showed signs of the distinctive nodes. It took over a half hour and she seemed very frustrated with herself, by the end of it.

"Let's give it a go, then, shall we?" Rodgers suggested, stepping back to dueling distance and sending a weak Blasting Curse at her, which she countered; then another, which she did not forcing her to stumble back when it struck. "Did you notice what happened there?" Rodgers asked. Kerry Ann shook her head. "I changed the attack, which we will cover eventually, but you have to change the counter to match or you will be worse than unprotected."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Kerry Ann admitted.

"You have to get a feel for it. And for the first blocks you learn to modulate it will take a lot of repetition. Then it will get easier."

Harry shuffled where he stood, thinking this sounded depressingly like Legilimency. Rodgers repeated the attacks about ten more times, resulting in alternating failures and successful counters.

"Next," he eventually said, indicating she could step aside. Seeing her bent head, he added firmly, "You are doing fine. Didn't I warn you this was difficult? Vishnu, you're next."

If Vineet did better, it wasn't by much. After many rounds, Rodgers said, "I think you are trying too hard. It is instinctive." He gestured for him to move aside and for Harry to come up.

Harry raised his wand and tried to produce a modulated Titan block. It took many tries and advice about how he should hold his wand and how much power to use, before he could get the glowing nodes on the shimmering dome surrounding him. Kerry Ann and Aaron were discussing the fine points of what was happening with the spell, and Harry listened in for more help.

"Ready to try it?" Rodgers asked, stepping back.

Harry nodded and held his wand at ready. Rodgers raised his from the far side of the room, and Harry incanted the block as the Auror trainer started to speak the spell. Harry's first thought was that the incantation he heard didn't sound like a Blasting Curse, and second, he wondered why he was skidding backward on his knees.

The room had fallen silent after a gasp from Aaron. "You thought you were ready," Rodgers commented dryly. Harry's vision swam from the flash of his block exploding. He pushed himself to his feet and saw Rodgers raising his wand. "Again?" the trainer asked matter-of-factly.

Harry, his instincts for preservation coming to the fore, raised his wand, then quickly his hand. "Can I get a moment, sir?" he asked, since he had apparently lost his breath and had not yet regained it. Rodgers crossed his arms and waited with an impassive expression. Harry finally drew in a full, deep breath, straightened and signaled that he was ready. The next spell had a little less on it, and he blocked it all right, but it was still more power than the trainer had used on the others. It was repeated countless times as Harry tried to get a sense for tuning the block to meet each attack.

Finally, Rodgers signaled that he could step aside and that Aaron should take his place. Aaron looked a little worried but he did as well as any of them, which is to say, he needed a lot more practice. They worked on modulating two counter-curses, after which Harry felt bodily sore from getting knocked back so many times. If he had been using a normal block he would have done just fine, which made it all the more frustrating.

"We have time for one incarceration spell, a Prisoner Box. Aaron, stand there." He pointed near the chalkboard.

"Me, sir?" Aaron asked reluctantly, sounding a little childish.

"Yes," Rodgers confirmed, still pointing. Aaron trudged to the indicated spot and a moment later he was replaced by a little trunk, inside of which his shrunken face could be seen pressing against the barred opening in the side. A bit of his robe stuck out of the corner, unshrunken.

"Wow, you made that small," Kerry Ann said, resisting a wide grin.

Harry had never seen this spell and felt a little less picked on by their trainer since it wasn't him in the box. With a wave Aaron was released, red faced, which prompted Rodgers to say dismissively, "Get used to it; you will be practicing it on each other." He gestured at the larger part of the room. "Right now, in fact. Pair up."

Harry, wand in his pocket, waited while Vineet listened to the spell being explained. Then Harry stood still while a box slammed into existence around him, although it was fully as tall as him and very thin-walled.

"We need to give you spell-power exercises, Vishnu," Rodgers said while rubbing his hands together a bit fretfully. Vineet looked resigned, as though he didn't have much hope for that helping. Harry was put into a, thankfully, large box several more times before getting a chance to try the spell himself.

Remembering Vineet using him to show off his Eastern Arts, Harry shouted the spell and pointed. With a swirling whoosh his fellow apprentice was reduced to a red box about two feet high that looked suspiciously like the luggage Harry had taken to Switzerland, which he may have been thinking of as he incanted it. He looked to their trainer expectantly and received only a flat nod. Harry waved the spell away and Vineet stood straight.

"Perhaps we change partners?" the Indian suggested hopefully to the trainer.


Late that afternoon, Harry stepped out of the hearth at home. The house felt empty as he carried his bookbag across to the library. In the hall Winky came up from the kitchen and with hands rubbing together, said, "Master out on errands."

"Thanks," Harry said to her. He dropped his bag inside the door, started to turn away, then grabbed out one of the books about spell predestination and took it to the dining room, where he shucked his cloak and sat down to read with a groan. He read a chapter, then stretched his neck as he mentally reviewed the main points of it to help him memorize. His mind wandered a bit, resting briefly on Penelope before he realized that he had not seen Tonks that day to ask about the fee amount. He really needed to figure something out. Lord Freelander had offered to pay for his education, Harry remembered, but that felt the same as letting the Ministry waive the fee in the first place. His chest clenched at the thought of talking to Snape about it, so he settled his book back before him and started the next chapter.

Snape returned home to find Harry asleep at the table, his head cushioned on the crook of his bare arm. Harry woke to a light tug on the shoulder of his t-shirt. His neck complained when he lifted it.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Snape asked, sounding concerned.

Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Yeah, just a rough day." He pulled his sleeve up to look at his sore shoulder from the first hard spell; it was bluing now with bruises.

"What spell was that?" Snape asked.

"It was a Hopimi, our trainer said, which I hadn't seen before." Harry tossed his sleeve back down and ran his hand through his hair, trying to perk himself up.

Snape put his packages aside and leaned over the table. "It isn't that strong usually; didn't you counter it?"

Harry shut his book and pushed it aside. "It's complicated. We were learning the basics of modulation, you know, so the counter doesn't always hold and there was a lot of force behind the spell." Looking for sympathy, he added, "Our trainer is really tough on me."

Snape stood straight and gathered up his packages. "Good," he stated, with no hint of sympathy. Harry watched his guardian depart and patted his shoulder gingerly.

---------------

The next day, they covered three more incarceration spells, one very similar to the web spell Harry had learned from Penelope, which allowed him to get it right on the third try, while his fellows were still struggling. This time he didn't expect any praise from their trainer, which was just as well.

After lunch Rodgers stepped into the workout room and said, "More modulation practice. Potter, come up here."

With reluctant feet, Harry did as he was told. Many bruises throbbed in unison as though urging him to disobey. He took his place and held his wand at the ready.

"Same as before," Rodgers said, and cast at him.

Again the spell took his breath away when it buffeted its way through the Counter and he almost fell to his knees, just catching his balance on magic-weakened legs. While he tried to take a breath, Rodgers voice said a little ruthlessly, "You knew what was coming. Try harder. Again."

Harry held up his hand to forestall, but too late, as the same spell was already coming at him. More desperate, and slightly disoriented, Harry brought up the counter as forcefully as he could. This time, like a fluid, the shielding dome around him bent and arched rather than exploded. Bright spots on it slid forward and back. The attack wore off and his Counter faded. Harry sighed in relief at avoiding the hit.

"See how much better it works when you put some effort into it?" Rodgers asked snidely.

Harry considered arguing that he had been trying hard before, but he couldn't rightly argue with success. His wand hand jerked into position on its own, when Rodgers said, "Again. Let's make sure you've got it."

When Harry finally stumbled to the watching group, they looked wary, but Aaron, who went next, got a much easier round. Sympathetic half-smiles from his fellows made Harry feel a little better.

At the end of the day, Harry dragged himself home rather than follow Kerry Ann and Aaron to a pub as they urged. He wondered how they planned to finish the reading for the next day. One more day and then he would get a much needed break, he told himself as he put his books in the library. He found Snape in the drawing room reading long, red-edged parchments that Harry did not recognize.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked in the way of a greeting.

"Reading the minutes of past Hogwarts board meetings; dull, but at the same time they sometimes make decisions or have discussions that we do not otherwise hear about." His voice dropped lower, sounding strategic. "Some we would like to know about."

Harry held back a chuckle at the notion of Snape applying his strategic conniving to something as mundane as school administration.

Snape re-rolled the gaudily decorated parchment and put it aside before asking, "How was your day? New bruises?"

Harry shook his head, "No."

"Your trainer has not eased up, I hope," Snape went on while he stacked more parchments into a crate that looked like one Hagrid might have owned once, except it was painted gold.

"No," Harry reassured him. "I just . . . got a little better," he admitted with reluctance, since it had necessitated getting beaten up a bit.

Snape turned from the crate and asked, snideness fully in force, "You learned to modulate a counter-curse in two days?" He almost sounded angry, his disgust was so complete. When Harry just shrugged, Snape stood up and came over.

"It was just a Titan," Harry explained.

"That is the easiest to modulate, but nevertheless," Snape huffed and stepped by him, shaking his head.

"Want to see it?" Harry eagerly asked his departing back.

"Perhaps later," Snape replied without turning around. "When I can trust myself to stick to a limited set of attacking spells."

Harry frowned slightly and took himself back to the library to read. Later, when Snape stepped into the doorway, Harry found himself ignoring him even though he had not given any prior thought to doing this.

After a pause Snape said, "Dinner is on the table."

Harry closed his book around a small leather marker and stood up without replying. As he tried to pass Snape, feeling as though he wanted to make a point by being reticent, he was grabbed up by the arm. Harry flinched as his tender bruises complained bitterly at being handled and was immediately released.

"Sorry," Snape muttered. Harry turned to him with a sigh, prompting Snape to say, "Certainly you are old enough to not require regular praise."

Something rebelled inside Harry. "I guess not," he insisted anyway.

"If you do, perhaps it is time to grow up a bit."

Harry took a closer look at his guardian, who appeared soberly serious. The rebellion continued, solidified into arguments about his deserving some make-up consideration or just deserving in general, but he clamped down on them and frowned a bit as pride came to his rescue. "Just as long as you aren't jealous," Harry snipped.

Snape turned away. "Dinner is ready."

Harry followed behind. At the door to the dining room, Harry relented, "I didn't mean that."

Snape stood beside the table set for two with covered silver platters in the center. "I do not like things to be too easy for you; it will lead you to be overconfident."

"It wasn't easy," Harry insisted as he dropped achily into a chair. "I got beaten up badly before I got it right. Rodgers pushed me into it out of sheer survival. He didn't do that to any of the others," he ended in complaint.

Snape still remained standing, gripping his chair back. "Sounds as though he expects more from you." Finally he pulled the chair out and seated himself. "Nothing wrong with that," he opined while lifting the lid of the largest platter to reveal pork chops.

---------------

Harry fell into the rhythm of his new program. Although he wasn't as good at remembering the details of their readings as Kerry Ann, he did better than Aaron, who didn't seem to always do his readings.

It was during the afternoon discussion section on Thursday that Rodgers announced that they were to return to the workout room for some spell drills so the Prophet could take some pictures. At the groans, he said, "P.R. is very important to us, get used to it. Put on some smiles; you are the darling class of the Ministry, after all."

"Potter is, anyway," Aaron quipped darkly.

"'Scuse me?" Harry returned.

Rodgers scolded them both. "None of that; leave it in here." They followed him out in silence. In the workout room several photographers and reporters waited. Harry wished he and his fellows were not all wearing the black fuzzy one-pieces they wore during training. They looked like old style Muggle swim wear except with a Ministry patch on the breast. "Here they are," Rodgers announced. "Our largest ever Auror apprentice class. Pair up and show them a few things, kids."

Harry paired with Vineet. They went through the basic blocking drill they had done every day this week. The Prophet photographer came over to photograph Harry, which he ignored as much as possible, although the flash was blinding him at the worst possible moments. When the drills were finished, Harry carefully placed himself between two of his fellows to make it hard to take a picture just of him.

Skeeter came over and gave him a chummy smile. "How are you, Harry?" She had her Quick Quotes quill out.

"I won't talk to you unless you put that away," Harry said firmly. His fellows looked at him a little sharply as did Rodgers.

She grabbed the feather out of the air and stashed it in her purse, from which she retrieved a normal quill. Not missing a beat, she asked, "How is training going?"

"Good. It's hard work," Harry replied smoothly. "The Ministry wants us all well-prepared for our eventual service."

Skeeter gave him a narrow look which slid over to Rodgers. "What did you do, give them interview training the second day?" she complained. When Rodgers just shrugged innocently, she turned back to the apprentices. To Kerry Ann, she said, "How about you? Few witches in this department, how do you cope with that?" Kerry Ann was happy to go on about this for a while, until Aaron was shuffling nervously beside her. Skeeter asked Aaron if this was his calling, which he went on about for a few ego-filled minutes. She then asked Vineet about his home town in India and what they thought about his being here. After all this, she turned back to Harry. "How am I doing?" she asked impatiently.

Harry laughed. "Good. Better than expected." His fellows turned to him then, just catching on to his machinations.

She glared at him a bit before saying, "So, dating anyone?"

"No."

"Hm, why not?"

"None of your concern," Harry replied firmly.

She picked at her teeth with her pinky nail before repoising her quill. "So what do you think your parents would say if they could see you now?"

"They would say this was too dangerous and they wished I would do something else."

"Really?" she asked in surprise.

"I'm pretty sure," he answered easily. "But they would let me do it anyway, I think, because I can't imagine doing anything else."

She looked at him closely before jotting that down. He gave her a nice smile and a flash bulb went off.

Rodgers announced that Minister Fudge wanted to give the press an overview of what the reorganized Auror office was hoping to accomplish now that Voldemort was no longer a concern. The other reporters and the Prophet photographer headed off with him. Skeeter pulled Harry aside. "You've changed," she opined in a quiet voice. "There's a story there alone. Sure you don't want to give me an interview?"

"You don't want to hold this over my head anymore?" Harry asked.

"I'm not making very good use of it, frankly," she commented as she smiled and waved to stall Rodgers, who had stopped in the doorway and looked back at them with concern. "Don't feel like relieving the collective guilt of the wizarding world?" Skeeter asked.

"They shouldn't be having that anymore."

"Potter, last time I asked you that question you nearly broke down on me," she pointed out. After a pause, she said, "Owl me if you change your mind." With a wide, patronizing smile, she finally followed their trainer out.

---------------

Harry went to the bookstore that weekend to order the next set of required books for his program. Two of them had very stodgy titles: Magical Regulations: A History and Form and Policy for European Magical Administration. Harry got sleepy just imagining cracking those in the evening. He also received a severe jolt at the price tag. The old wizard behind the counter at Flourish and Blotts waved half the pre-order price he usually insisted on when Harry realized how short his coin purse was.

"Pay when you pick up," he insisted kindly.

Harry considered going and getting more from his vault but he felt better dodging finding out exactly how little was left. Feeling a little stressed, he stopped at Weasley Wizard Wheezes instead of going to Gringott's. One of the twins was manning the counter and explaining to two little girls just how to arm their latest smoke bomb for timed release. They pocketed their purchases and snuck out whispering fiercely and giggling. Harry felt a little nostalgic watching them depart. He stepped out from behind the center rack of hard sweets and gum to be greeted warmly.

"Harry! Good to see you." The Weasley twin lifted a broom from beside the register and pounded the ceiling with it. "Oy! Fred! Come down!" he shouted upwards.

Pounding feet came down the back staircase. "Hey, Harry! Thought we had another emergency sugarbeetle explosion, but it's just you," he said, shaking Harry's hand. He pulled a package off the rack behind Harry and offered it to him. "Try these--latest and greatest."

Harry opened one, smelled watermelon and popped it in his mouth. The backs of his hands turned green with stripes like a watermelon rind and the palms of his hands turned pink. It tasted good, though, like the real thing.

"Much better than the grapefruit," George commented, "which makes you look like a hag with kidney disease."

Talking wetly around the sweet, Harry asked, "How long before this wears off?"

"Five minutes or so. We've found that repeat business comes mostly from the lower-key stuff," Fred explained, straightening the remaining packages on the rack as he spoke.

"Sad but true," George added as though discussing real tragedy.

"So how is your apprenticeship, O Great Auror?" Fred asked.

"Not bad. My trainer has it in for me."

"The bastard," Fred commented. "Need anything for that?" he offered eagerly.

"No. I'll manage," Harry insisted, alarmed at the notion of making trouble at the Ministry. He popped another sweet when the color began fading from his fingertips. "I'll take a pack of these, though."

"Go ahead," Fred said. "No charge."

Harry thanked him as he put the plain brown sack of ten in his pocket. He didn't have any money on him anyway, he realized with a flinch.


Sunday, Harry took a break while the sun was shining to weed in the front garden. The back, an utter jungle of vines and nettles, he decided could stay in its wild state. It harbored more creatures than the front as well, and he felt fixing it up was tantamount to evicting them all, or that made for a nice excuse, anyway.

Elizabeth came by as he knelt, spreading out the tulip bulbs that had multiplied into tiny clumps resembling spring onion, too crowded to produce any flowers. "Hello," she said, leaning over the crumbling wall. She was smartly dressed, which he commented on. "Just had a recital," she explained.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling like he should have known that, although she would have had to have told him. "Would you like tea?" Harry asked, feeling suddenly and strongly like company.

Her face pulled into a nice smile. "Sure."

Harry laid the dug up bulbs into the shade of the ivy and tossed mulch over them before standing and brushing his hands on his trousers. "I'm glad you don't wear that hat anymore," she said as he led the way inside.

"Everyone knows I'm here," Harry explained. "It is useful still though when I'm out."

"You like to hide?" she asked as they walked through the main hall, with Harry wondering how he could have forgotten how pointed she was.

"I don't always feel like being mobbed," he said defensively as they sat down.

"Is it really a mob?" she asked doubtfully. Winky came in with tea just then--possibly a record time.

"Took a half hour to get out of the Falmouth bleachers after everyone realized I was there, yeah." He took a biscuit while waiting for the tea to steep.

"They move on quickly though, I would think. You are so ordinary."

Harry crunched through his biscuit a bit hard at that. "You make it sound like I'm boring," he accused her. She poured out tea for herself; it looked like it had steeped plenty, which meant Winky must have started it before Elizabeth arrived. He shook his head.

"I didn't mean that," she said sweetly. "Just that you don't seem to try to entertain everyone like some famous people do. Like this violinist I saw after a concert once, Alverna, his name was, kept a mob around himself by making jokes and keeping everyone in the conversation."

"Yep, I don't do that," Harry agreed, thinking of Lockhart.

---------------

The next week of training went much faster than the first and Harry marveled at how much he had learned already. Physical workouts had been added in the mornings before spell drills, and Harry slept soundly every night due to exhaustion and marveled at the luxury of it. Thursday during lunch he had an odd thought as he watched Aaron and Kerry Ann leaning together and talking. He realized with a flash of confusion that he had not seen Candide around at all this summer. Nor had Snape mentioned her, even once, that he could remember. During their afternoon sessions the notion would not leave him alone, nor would the sinking feeling that accompanied his mulling over explanations for it.

After their end-of-day assignments meeting, Harry headed off to Diagon Alley where he had seen a sign for the accounting firm she worked for. Part of him thought that he was doing this without enough forethought, but he couldn't stand to leave it until later.

The offices were on the first floor up a narrow staircase with rounded, sagging risers. At the top, rooms opened up off both sides of the landing. The one on the left was a good-sized group office. The door was open for the breeze and Harry looked in at the large tilted desks, the racks of four-foot-wide parchments rolled onto wooden rods, and the massive ledger books in tall, narrow slotted shelves. A lone woman jotted down numbers off a ledger before she closed it and handled it with practiced ease back to its slot. She gave the parchment to one of four owls that sat in a complicated two-sided cage in a wide window. The bird flew off.

Harry almost departed when he noticed on one of the desks the dismaying Demyse of Voldemort mug that he had autographed long ago. He stepped in instead.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, as she pulled a scroll from the wall and hooked it over a rig on the desk just sized for it. Like a bizarre window shade, she pulled the narrow rod on the end down to hook it into metal loops at the bottom before attaching a handle for turning.

"I'm looking for Candide," Harry responded, fascinated by her spinning the long parchment to a particular section and starting to work on row upon row of narrow neat numbers.

"She's in a meeting with the boss; should be out in a moment."

"I'll wait."

She picked up a battered, metal-edged ruler and used a brown ink quill to extend the grid lines with machinelike precision. The door opened on the far side of the room and as people meandered out of it, Candide said, "Harry?" in surprise. The first woman and the others from the meeting stopped and gaped at him.

"Can I talk to you a moment?" Harry asked her.

"Sure," she replied. "Uh, why don't we go across the hall," she said quickly, cutting a practiced path across the narrow aisles between the desks and their menacing hooks. At the doorway, she said, "I'll be right back, sir." A portly man in a three-piece nodded mutely in response.

The room across the hall held more storage for the massive scrolls. When she had closed the door, Harry said, "I'm sorry to bother you-"

"Goodness, don't apologize. It's good to see you. What can I do for you?"

Harry frowned lightly and tried to put his thoughts together. She plucked at his sleeve while looking over his clothes and asked doubtfully, "What is this?"

"I didn't change from training at the Ministry," he explained. At her questioning look, he added, "Auror training."

She looked impressed. "Wow. Congratulations."

"Thanks. Look. I'm kind of cutting in where I don't belong, but you haven't been around, and, it's easier to ask you why that is."

She gave him a wry smile and rubbed her forehead. "I do miss being around," she commented with a strange reluctance. "But I don't want to get in the middle of things, Harry," she said.

"Severus asked you to go, didn't he?" Harry asked, fearful he already knew the answer to that.

She gave him a sad smile which made Harry turn away in anger at himself. "It was more than that," she insisted, then hesitated. "I couldn't live with making things hard for you. Do you know how strange it was to imagine that I was giving the Hero of Wizardry nightmares?"

Harry closed his eyes and tried to take her words in. "I didn't want that much consideration," he complained in anger. He regrouped and said, "Are you still free? I mean . . . I know it's been a while . . . "

She smiled. "I don't get out much," she said, "so even after six months, I am, sad to say, still free." After a pause she added, "Have Severus owl me." Harry brightened, and she said, tweaking his arm, "You're a sweet thing, Harry."

He gave her a dark, dubious look, which would have withered some, but only made her laugh. She opened the door and lead the way out. The doorway of the opposing office was full of curious faces, crowded close. At their appearance the eavesdroppers all tried in vain for casual poses. Harry ignored them and headed down the stairs, turning at the landing to say, "See you."

"Cheers, Harry."

"And here I thought you'd signed that mug yourself," Roberta said to Candide.

"That would be on top of many things you were wrong about," Candide returned levelly as they went back to work.

Mr. Farnsworth's face twisted a bit. "How do you know Mr. Potter?" he asked curiously as though seeking a networking opportunity.

"He lives with a friend of mine," Candide said.

"Which friend?" Roberta asked dubiously.

"A very good friend," she returned, giving Roberta a stern look.


Harry returned home after a stop at Gringott's, where he cleared out the remaining Sickles and Knuts, feeling better about leaving the remaining small stacks of gold alone. On the way, he plotted how to broach this topic. It was Thursday, he considered, as he conjured an idea. In the drawing room, firmly Occluding his thoughts, he said hello. Snape looked up from his correspondence and responded in kind. "I was thinking we should do something fun tomorrow since it's Friday," Harry suggested casually. "I need a break from studying."

"You have been rather shockingly diligent," Snape observed. "You have a suggestion?"

Harry shrugged honestly. "Going out to dinner, maybe?" He put his bag down and opened it to take out his books. Pretending to have just thought of it, he said, "I haven't seen Candy around this summer." Then he very carefully pretended that he maybe should not have said that, while appearing to think it over anyway.

Snape was studying him closely, rubbing his fingertips together. After a pause he said, "I doubt she would be available on such short notice."

"Oh," Harry commented distractedly, sounding just disappointed enough.

In measured speech Snape said, "I could owl her and inquire, though."

Harry shrugged lightly. "Sure. If you want to," he replied extra casually, although his heart rate was trying to give him away.

"Dinner, you are thinking," Snape clarified slowly.

"Sounds good to me."

"The place above the Inn in Hogsmeade is reputed to be nice," Snape said as though thinking aloud.

Harry almost suggested that he not go along, but then thought that would make his scheme too obvious, plus he really did want to go out; so he kept mum.


When Franklin returned midmorning the next day, Harry silently hoped Candide was smart enough not to say anything. Snape unfolded the small parchment as Harry held his breath. "She regrets that she is free and is very happy for the invitation," he stated slowly. "Does that make sense to you?"

Harry paused to think of an answer. "Maybe it would only make sense to another woman," he suggested.

"Perhaps," Snape said thoughtfully. "Nevertheless, we are meeting her at seven."

Harry turned back to his notes rather than have to Occlude his mind. "It will be good to get out," he observed neutrally with an upbeat tone.

"Yes," Snape agreed softly.

After lunch, Harry decided to take a look at his dress robes, which he would probably end up wearing that night. They were comically too small; it was as though they belonged to someone else. He went back down to the dining room, where Snape was still having tea. "Do I need dress robes for tonight? How fancy is this restaurant?"

"Quite, I think."

"I have to go early and pick up another set of robes. My old ones are much too small," he said in disbelief.

"Potter," Snape said snidely. "When was the last time you wore them?"

"Uh, Boxing Day."

"You are probably five inches taller than you were then," Snape commented "Maybe more." He set his cup down and stood up to face Harry. He looked down at him a moment. "Yes, I think you are taller than your father was."

"Really? I better stop growing soon then," he commented, then observed, "I still feel short compared to you."

"I am much taller than average," Snape said thoughtfully. "We can go into Hogsmeade early and get you outfitted. And perhaps order some more of that marvelous tea."


At four o'clock, they took the Floo to the Three Broomsticks, which was busy enough to let them pass through unnoticed. At Gladrags the shop clerk gave him a dazzling smile.

"You're Harry Potter," the young lady said brightly.

"Yeah," Harry replied flatly. "I need a set of dress robes. For tonight," he added, and at that thought, felt grateful that he might have more pull than the average customer.

"Wow, well, I'll have to check with Mum, she does the alterations. Let's get you measured up first." He slipped off his jumper and stood up on a short wooden pedestal, moving as directed. "Right then," she said, when she finished. "What color?"

He glanced over at Snape's dark green robe as his guardian perused the far wall of the shop. "Dark blue, maybe?"

She grabbed a few off the rack and brought them over. "Frilly?" she suggested. He shook his head. "Demure?" He nodded.

"That's a nice one," he said, indicating the one in her hand. It was velvet with quilted satin cuffs and collar. The color was that of a sapphire at midnight. Snape wandered back over to see it.

"It's a pricey one," she commented.

Harry froze. "How pricey?" he asked, suddenly acutely aware of the low value of the coins in his purse.

She looked at the tag, "Thirty-two galleons." She held it up, waiting for a decision.

That was a lot for a robe, even if Harry had that much money. He looked over at Snape and found himself in a very new position. "If it looks good on you, why not?" Snape asked.

The clerk unhooked it and handed it up to him. Harry slipped it on over his t-shirt and denims. She moved the nearby mirror so he could see himself in it. It did look good on him, but he hesitated, feeling very awkward about asking for money.

"Sharp," the clerk said. "You dating anyone?" she asked.

Harry gave her a dark look. Behind him, Snape said, "Not anyone in particular."

The clerk smiled at him more. "It only needs to be taken in on the sides and that can be done later if you want. You can come back and have that done, anytime. Or just owl it," she suggested with clear dislike of that option.

Harry still hesitated. Snape stepped over and looked him up and down. "You don't like it?"

"It isn't that," Harry said quietly, reluctantly.

Snape eyed him closely and said, "He'll take it. Cut the tag if you will; he will be wearing it out."

Harry frowned as he stepped down from the platform. The clerk used a spell to remove the tag and its tie. As she took it to the counter, Harry hung back, letting Snape follow her over to pay. On the way out she bagged his jumper and handed it to him with a glowing smile.

Out on the street, Snape observed, "We seem to have encountered a sensitive topic." It was, Harry thought; it made his insides knot up miserably. When he remained silent, as they walked slowly along the gravel edge of the stone street, Snape said, "You are remarkably low maintenance; an expensive robe now and then is really no matter."

With a small frown Harry said, "I'm going to need money for the next round of assigned books, too."

"Auror-assigned books are really no matter," Snape said firmly. They stopped at the corner where they would have to turn for Puddifoot's. A little impatiently, he prompted, "What is bothering you, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. He could just make out the collapsing roof of the Shrieking Shack over the other rooftop and he let it hold his gaze.

"Loss of independence, perhaps?" Snape inquired. Harry considered that, but just shrugged again. A pair of witches scuttled past, chatting simultaneously about frog canning recipes and ignis fatuus spells. When they were out of range, Snape said, "This is going to be an ongoing thing, I suspect. It would be unfortunate for it to cause this much distress every time."

Harry was not going to put his finger on his discomfort in the middle of High Street in Hogsmeade. He nodded to say that they should continue on to the teashop.

The teashop was empty and the bell on the door sounded too loud as they stepped inside. Snape took a seat at a table near the side wall. The proprietress came out and greeted them warmly. Snape ordered a pot, looking very out of place among the frills draped everywhere.

After the tray arrived and the Madam departed again, Snape said. "This is the money left by your parents, correct, that is apparently running low?"

Harry nodded as he traced with his finger the letters CD LUVS CC carved in the tabletop. "It seemed like a lot a long time ago," Harry said, frustrated with himself. He sipped his tea; it was bitter, over steeped. A glance upward showed him Snape waiting passively for him to say more. He thought about it longer, seeing that. His gut reaction to needing things paid for was to think of the Dursleys.

Harry put his cup down and sighed, "My aunt and uncle used money against me."

Snape straightened. "Ah," he said in understanding, sounding relieved.

Harry explained, "It was so nice to be free of that once I had access to my vault. They constantly complained how expensive I was, and how I was so lucky they had taken me in at all." Harry burned at the memory. "It was ludicrous. They never bought me anything, not clothes or presents for sure. They barely gave me food." Harry cut his ranting short. "Well, anyway," he muttered before gulping more tea. This time he appreciated the bitterness.

Snape breathed in deeply. "It helps me to understand. Rest assured I will not use it against you."

"I don't even know how much you make," Harry pointed out, sounding difficult.

"Certainly more than enough to support two," Snape said firmly. "We'll put you on an allowance. That will spare you from having to ask." He took out a scrap of parchment and Fetched a battered never-out quill from the counter. "What are your normal expenses?"

"Twenty for a few lunches out a week. That's in pounds."

"Goodness, what is Gringott's giving on those these days."

"Bad rates, that's one of the reasons I've been taking a lunch. It's been coming out to about a Galleon and half." He watched Snape write that down.

"And you've bought books at least twice already. The law books could not have been cheap."

"About twenty Galleons each round," Harry said with a wince.

"Harry," Snape insisted, "don't worry about it."

Harry went on, "The Minister wants to waive my fees, which are three hundred and sixty Galleons a year." At Snape's surprised look, Harry said, "Second most expensive apprenticeship among registered guilds; only alchemy costs more." Harry rubbed his fingernails. "I haven't decided what to tell them. But . . . I don't have any choice but to accept, I don't think."

"You really do not like taking anything from Cornelius Fudge, do you?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't like him."

"Would you rather accept it from Madam Bones?"

Harry scratched his cheek and considered that. "Yeah, I guess."

Dryly, Snape explained, "Hold on a week then; that is when the vote is. Minerva does not think he is going to survive it, and since she had taken over Albus' role of confessor to the Wizengamot, I expect she would know." When Harry didn't reply, Snape returned to his list. "Fare for the underground, evenings out, presents for girlfriends?"

Harry averted his eyes, embarrassed. "The first two."

"Could easily be the third, if the shop clerk was any indication." He added the list together. "Rounded up, about eight Galleons a week."

"That much?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Save it if you do not need it." Snape said dismissively.

"Thanks," Harry muttered and dropped his gaze to his cup. He chafed at the situation, but realized it would be years, literally, before he was making his own money.

They drank tea in silence with Harry tapping his crossed feet against the chair leg in an unusual display of fidgeting. When it was time to leave for the restaurant, Snape arranged the empty cups on the small tray with the teapot. He started to stand, then hesitated and leaned back in his chair with something resembling a sigh. "There are few things I would begrudge you, Harry. Frankly, you do not ask for much." Harry fidgeted more, really wishing the situation were simply different, but the only way to make it so would be to ask for money from someone else or from the Ministry.

"Thanks," Harry said again.

"I think you will get used to the situation," Snape said as they stood to leave. "As tangled as it is for you, apparently."


At the Middle Inn they met Candide, who was waiting for them at the top of the stairs outside the small dining room. "So good to see you two," she said with emotion, giving them each one-armed hugs. "Wow, you look smart in that," she said of Harry's robe.

They were shown to a table along the back wall below a gaudy brass cherub sconce that matched the shiny brown tablecloths. Candide told the waiter that they would start with champagne and he bowed and disappeared. "What have you two been up to?"

"I've started the Auror's program," Harry offered, mostly to get things straight in their ruse.

"Wow," she said, giving the same response as before. "Impressive. How long does that take?"

Harry sighed, "Three years."

"How is it so far?" she asked brightly.

"Good. A ton of work, plus I get picked on by our trainer."

She grinned crookedly. "Your trainer doesn't underestimate you, you mean?"

"Something like that," Harry said stiffly.

Champagne arrived and as they clinked their glasses, Harry had a feeling of being in just the right place. It was an unusual feeling, one he longed to capture and keep in a bottle for later if that were possible.

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