Resonance

Chapter 72 -- The Substitute

The next morning, Harry woke with the sun and went to freshen up in the boys' bathroom. The sinks were much lower than he had remembered, requiring him to bend uncomfortably low to wash his face. His reflection reminded him that he needed to fetch some clean clothes, or use a really powerful spell on the grey jumper and trousers he had been wearing for two days. He pulled out his wand, remembering unbidden the scene in Snape's office. It required several moments as a result, to remember a Freshening Charm and a Pressing Spell. He didn't look very professorly though. Scratching the back of his head, he considered that one of Snape's sleeveless robes might help.

He returned to the dispensary, thinking that Snape might have woken by now, and indeed he was sitting up with a tray before him, a pile of letters beside his plate. Harry sat on the next bed and eyed the simple toast and poached egg hungrily.

"You are not going to sit here all day, are you?" Snape asked snidely. "You must have training to attend."

"Probably," Harry tossed out dismissively, rocking his feet back and forth under the bed. With a devious look in his eye, he went on. "But instead I'm teaching your classes."

It required a moment for Snape to stare down the truth of this, but then he leaned back and said easily, "In which case you should be eating breakfast in the Great Hall"

"Should I?"

"Yes," Snape confirmed sternly. Harry reluctantly pushed himself to his feet. Snape asked, "And you have found the lesson plans for today?"

"No," Harry tossed over his shoulder. At Snape's look of consternation, he added confidently, "I'll work something out." To which Snape appeared rather doubtful. At the door Harry turned and said he would return at lunchtime.

There was only ten minutes remaining before breakfast would be served. Harry hurried down to the Defense office, which already had a new door--actually an old door, probably older than the previous door given the near black of the thick finish. By the time he found, and dropped the correct syllabi and corresponding notes and textbooks in the classroom, as well as grabbed an outer robe, breakfast had already started.

In the empty Entrance Hall, Harry intentionally walked in the far left doors and strode purposefully between the wall and the Slytherin table. He had made it halfway before the bright swell of morning conversation died down and heads turned to watch him, most eyes a bit wide. He easily found Suze's welcoming smile and gave her a wink.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall intoned in greeting when Harry pulled out the empty seat beside hers--the only empty seat at the long head table.

"Good morning, Headmistress," Harry returned formally. The room, with its bright ceiling and faces, boosted him enough to bring out a smile as he returned the other teachers' greetings. Cawley came down from the other end to shake Harry's hand vigorously and to welcome him to breakfast as though Harry were again a newcomer. Harry found he still had that instinctive suspicion for the man. He smiled through his ill ease and with a kind of impromptu bow, the man departed.

When Harry turned back to his place a full plate was there. He ate with hungry vigor.

"You have time for seconds," McGonagall stated beside him when he ate the last heel of his toast.

"No, that's-" he started to say but a new plate of eggs, toast, and sausage had already appeared.

"Thanks," he said and rubbed his hair back as a wave of uneasiness swept through him.

She leaned in and softly said, "It will get easier."

Harry didn't respond, just picked up his fork again, wondering if some of the empty feeling was from somewhere other than his stomach.

Standing in the Defense classroom, Harry felt more nervous than expected as the Fifth Year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs filed in. Unlike the advanced classes, these were just two houses, and Harry was happy that it was an easy two. He also knew many of the students personally, so this was really just an expanded session of D.A., he told himself. Everyone looked eager, if not a little surprised. He took role to learn the few names he didn't already.

Holding the class notes a bit tightly, Harry glanced at the attentive faces and said, "Today you are supposed to begin covering powerful dark magic creatures, let's see--giant spiders, Lethifolds, great black poison toads, and, uh, Dementors." Out loud he mulled, "I wonder if I should have brought the Lethifold from the office."

A hand went up. Harry looked up at Sanders, a Ravenclaw girl, and she asked, "There isn't really a Lethifold in Professor Snape's office, is there?"

"There was last year. Unless it got out again," Harry replied with deceptive casualness. This led to some widened eyes. "I can go fetch it if you want to see it . . ."

"No," she replied quickly. "That's all right, we . . . can read about them," she insisted.

Harry thought he understood why the sorting hat had such an easy time with most students. Feeling mischievous, he muttered, "That will leave more time for calling in a few Dementors, anyway." He really should be more careful, he considered, as he took in their alarm, but he was too busy trying not to grin too broadly. "You really can't tell when I'm joking, can you?"

A Hufflepuff boy by the name of Mumfred, who wore a prefect badge, and whose long hair was tied back in a frizzy puff said, "Professor Snape doesn't joke much. Can you really summon a Dementor?"

Harry thought about that, replaying in his mind the sounds from the dark plane to reconsider if he had heard the Dementors there. "I'm not sure," he finally replied when the students began to shuffle nervously. "Interesting question."

"Maybe not try it here, sir?" Mumfred suggested.

Harry smiled in amusement. "Do you know how much trouble I'd be in if I did that?" he asked rhetorically, leading a few to laugh in relief.

"The Ministry probably wouldn't like that," someone agreed.

Harry lifted the notes to read from again, now feeling confident and relaxed. "Forget the Ministry; I was thinking of Headmistress McGonagall." This led them all into a relaxing laugh.

At the end of class Harry dismissed them all just as the bell rang. They hadn't even grumbled much about the essay assignment, which Harry himself thought a bit extensive. That, he supposed, was why they were in those two houses, either smart enough to make it easy, or hardworking enough not to care. Harry barely had time to go the office and change over materials before the seventh-years began arriving.

Ginny gave him a very big smile as she sat ahead of Colin Creevey, in the front row, where he truly doubted she usually sat. Colin himself and the other old D.A. members all looked very pleased to see him and said hello as though they were old friends.

Harry did a quick count, noticing that the Slytherins sitting in the back left corner looked much less welcoming. "Everyone is here, so we will skip role." He picked up the notes for the next few classes. Today the schedule was to finish up bog and moor creatures, but next week they were starting counter-curses. "So does anyone mind if we jump ahead?" Many heads shook.

A voice in the back sullenly said, "Professor Snape might mind."

Harry grinned lightly. "I'll worry about that." He flipped ahead a few sheets. "Counter-curses," he announced to much happy oohing. The list looked very easy and almost useless, most of the spells not powerful enough for any serious attacks. "We'll start with the counter for the tremor class of curses, such as Jelly Legs." Harry called Colin up to demonstrate. He backed up and asked the boy to spell him, which he did, very lightly.

"You can put a little more behind it than that, Mr. Creevey," Harry chastised.

With a mischievous spark in his eye Colin gave him rather a hard Jelly Legs curse, powerful enough to show the spell trail, which it normally didn't. Harry countered this one as well, although he had to step back to catch his balance. "Your turn, Mr. Creevey. Ready?"

Colin swallowed hard and raised his wand, but Harry sent only an weak curse his way. Harry then went through the rows making each of them come up and try the counter. Their attitude was almost universally one of having fun, and he wasn't certain if it was his presence that was causing that. He tried to sound more serious as he gave instructions. He called the first of the Slytherins up. A tall, lean, redheaded girl named Sylvia Askunk who was wearing a Prefect badge. She didn't raise her wand when Harry asked her to give the spell a try.

In a voice of trouble, she said, "No one will say how our Head of House is doing."

"Oh." Harry put his wand hand behind his back. "I'm sorry, I should have said. I assumed the headmistress said something before breakfast."

Sylvia said, "She said he was going to be out a few days. Someone said you attacked him."

Someone snorted, presumably Ginny. Harry resisted glancing over the other Slytherins, looking for who might have suggested that. "No," Harry responded calmly. "I would hardly do that. Avaricious Avery, the last free Death Eater attacked Professor Snape out of revenge." Still calm and sounding odd to himself, he added, "He's going to be all right though." Harry did glance over the room then and found Ginny's very sympathetic gaze. She was chewing hard on her lower lip and looked to want to speak. Harry did look over to the Slytherins then and found various expressions there, mostly hopeful.

Turning back to Sylvia, he said, "Shall I show you the spell again?"

The last Slytherin was called up and approached reluctantly. Nott, shoulders hunched, looking older than his fellows in more ways than his height, stepped up onto the platform and ground his teeth impatiently. Harry considered him and wondered who had taught him how to Occlude his mind. "Can you show me the block again, Teacher?" he asked flatly.

Harry stepped back and wand at careful ready, gestured for the boy to curse him. Nott raised his wand and shouted a spell that wasn't even related to a Jelly Legs. Instinctively and feeling that he foresaw this, Harry put up a Diamona block. Not his best one, but it chimed like crystal when Nott's Dissecting curse hit it.

The room fell hushed. Harry held his wand at ready and said, "That was very stupid thing to do." Nott was gnashing his teeth. "I didn't know it was you until you did that."

"What?" Nott mocked. "You wouldn't assume it was the son of a Death Eater? Are you stupid?"

"I believe everyone deserves a chance to prove their own worth." Harry relaxed his wand hand just slightly, perhaps trying to draw another attack, perhaps trying to move beyond the exchange of spells. "Shall I tell your housemates what you did?" This, of all things, disarmed Nott. "Yes," Harry went on pleasantly, "You threw away everything. And for what?"

"Avery said his lord was rising again."

"He isn't," Harry snapped.

"His mark was darkening. I saw it," Nott countered triumphantly.

"He was lying. I would know long before that. There is a spell that will reveal a mark, which is after all just a Proteon Charm." Harry banked his anger when Nott looked more frightened. With a flick Harry disarmed the boy and caught his wand out of the air.

Nott looked sullen now rather than full of fury. "He deserved it. For being a traitor," he growled, fists clenched around nothing. A few students whispered to each other, the first noise anyone had made.

"Severus wasn't a traitor; he was loyal to Albus Dumbledore," Harry said. "And I hope that revenge was worth throwing your life away for. Come," he said, stepping down from the platform. When Nott hesitated, Harry held out his wand and threatened, "You can walk or I can stuff you in a box as small as the one they took Avery away in. Your choice." At the door Harry turned and said, "Ginny, describe the rest of the counter-curses from the notes on the desk until I get back."

She went from befuddled to bright like a switch. "Sure," she said and stood up eagerly.

Harry dragged Nott, who was only an inch shorter than himself, down the corridor by the back of his robes. Anger built in him as they walked and all he wanted to do was scream at the boy if not pummel him. Nott was looking crafty as they approached the gargoyles. "Please try something," Harry whispered softly, avidly. This brought the boy to bear with a fearful gape.

"What are you going to do?" Nott asked.

Harry held off on the password. "I'm going to inform the headmistress and have the Auror's office come get you." Harry paused, mind chewing on things. "Funny that Avery didn't give you away. They interrogated him already almost certainly."

Nott's lip twitched. "I don't know how Aurors remember to breathe they are so stupid."

Harry still held off on the password. "You know, Avery couldn't have come up with this. Brewed the odorless Kayo vapor, gotten into the castle. You expected him to get caught and gave him a Memory Charm. No, you had Lockhart give him one," Harry restated. When Nott's look darkened, Harry said mockingly, "Aurors don't need to be very smart if you keep giving things away." Hot anger was trying to fill Harry and he was listening for any sound from the Dark Plane, but there didn’t seem to be any. "So, where is Lockhart?" Harry demanded.

Nott pressed his lips together before smiling faintly. "I don't know, actually."

Harry thought fiercely. "You used an Imperious Curse on him, didn't you?"

Nott put a hand on one hip. "Can we get on with with this? Your playing at the Great Auror is really a drag. In fact, watching the Slytherin Head of House fawn over you nauseated me. Professor Snape doesn't deserve that honorable title, he deserved to be hurt . . . removed from his position."

Harry had Nott lifted up by the shirt and flat against the wall in the next instant and was pleased that the boy's eyes flickered with fear. "You tried to take away something I care deeply for," Harry hissed as Nott twisted in an attempt to get away. "I already have major moments of regret at not killing Avery. You think anyone would question for even a second if I took you out right now?" Actually, part of Harry's mind interrupted, Snape would. Harry released the front of Nott's robes, very surprised that they hadn't been overrun by dark creatures then and there given the fury pumping though him. But the corridor was silent, and the gargoyles unfazed. Harry spat the password then before his own will weakened, and dragged a resisting Nott up the turning steps.

The office still reminded Harry forcefully of Dumbledore. "Sit down," he ordered the boy, who obeyed in silence.

McGonagall came down from the upper level. "What is this?" she asked in her official voice.

"Avery's inside help," Harry explained, and now that he had backup, he pulled out Floo powder and notified the Aurors.

When he stood again to await their arrival, McGonagall was circling Nott's chair like a cat waiting for a mouse to twitch. One of the few unsleeping paintings tsked chastisingly. "You failed your second chance, Mr. Nott," McGonagall said in a low voice. "I now have to apologize to Mr. Potter for having given you one in the first place." She looked up at Harry and her eyes said how sorry she was. "You had too much to live down, I suppose," she said, returning to Nott.

Nott, arms crossed and head tilted far to the side, said, "Avery said Voldemort was coming back. He lied."

"Ah yes," McGonagall said. "So as usual, you are the victim. That makes everything all right."

The hearth flared and Rogan and Shacklebolt stepped out of it, wands out. Shacklebolt turned to Harry, "What do we have?"

"The person who helped Avery into the castle. In fact, I expect he planned the whole thing." More of the paintings around them woke up and blinked in surprise.

"Well, Theo," Shacklebolt said, and then in one smooth movement, hauled the boy to his feet, put a binding curse around his arms and pushed him to the hearth. "I'm sure your father's old friends will be blasted happy to see you." Two flashes and they were gone.

Harry shook himself to return to the present. "I have class I think."

"Harry," McGonagall's regretful tone pulled his attention back from a room full of bored and highly creative seventh-years.

Harry cut her off, putting a lot of effort into a level tone, "Don't apologize for trying to uphold Dumbledore's virtues . . . Minerva."

She smiled faintly. Then a breath later chuckled lightly. "Merlin, Harry, don't make me apologize to Severus yet again."

"For what?"

"I don't even wish to tell you. Go back to your class now," she brushed him away with her hand as though he were a student.

Harry, as he rode down the stairs, wondered about the headmistress' tone at the last and considered that everyone around him seemed to be holding onto their pride a bit too fiercely.

Ginny was still at the front of the room and everything was surprisingly calm. When he stepped in, she asked bluntly, "Did the Aurors take him?"

"Yes." She returned to her seat, handing the pile of notes to him as they passed. Harry thanked her and stepped to the front. Only ten minutes remained in the session. "Well, who wants to demonstrate a Hydra Counter?" Askunk shot her hand into the air and Harry gestured for her to come up. With a nod of warning he sent a bucket of water her way. The spell was capable of producing something resembling a fire hose, but Harry wasn't doing crowd control as he had been taught the spell was good for. She didn't use the counter from the lesson but a heat one, which was a little dangerous since it generated a flash of steam and if incanted too late it would burn. Harry explained this patiently.

She stood with her arms stiffly at her sides, looking angrier than before. "I want to duel you," she snipped fiercely when Harry broke off the spell instruction.

"You're sure about that?" Harry asked, not unkindly. Even here he apparently was something to measure up to. Her gaze didn't waver nor did her lips unpurse. Calmly, ignoring the students who were avidly leaning forward in their desks, Harry said, "Trouble is, you have a huge advantage over me."

Her brow shifted to confused. "Why?"

"Because if I put you in the dispensary for so much as a pin prick, I'm in very serious trouble. Whereas you don't appear to care if I end up in Mungo's through Christmas. May I ask why you want to duel? Are you the school champion looking for a bigger challenge?"

"I'm the House champion," she said, raising her wand. Harry matched her on instinct; although he didn't want it to be an invitation.

"I'm quite certain Professor Snape doesn't run dueling competitions."

"He doesn't," she replied, grinning a bit. She threw a blasting curse at him then, which he blocked. At his sharp look, she said, "You had your wand up." She sent another one, harder.

"Goodness, Slytherin Prefects are selected on some unexpected criteria." Harry teased, "You do realize that if you hurt me, Professor Snape will be most displeased."

"Yeah, right." She tossed something stringy and sizzling at him that he ducked, but it came back after bouncing off the wall. Harry tossed a Titan behind him to block it.

"Sheew," he breathed in honest surprise at the unknown attack. The class were definitely enjoying themselves, but the bell was due to ring any minute.

"Why don't you send something back?" she asked sharply, sounding spoiled.

"I really can't," he insisted. "I'd rather you get in trouble than me."

Ginny said, "Professor Snape would be very upset if he knew you were doing this, Harry."

Harry laughed and countered a Freezing Charm, ice battered the floor. "That's Professor Harry, to you. All right then, go back to Blasting Curses and I'll demonstrate," he instructed Askunk. "Go on then. Hard as you want." When she raised her wand, he called out "Chrysanthemum," and used that block. The windows rattled and someone's book flew off their desk in the resulting shattering force. "Again," he prompted.

They worked their way up the list, her spells only increasing in force and focus. "Ever consider being an Auror?" Harry teased.

Her wand hand fell to her side. "They won't take me," she snapped as though he were being stupid.

"Why not?" Harry returned in disbelief.

The bell rang then. "Assignments," Harry said, suddenly remembering. Fortunately everyone paused in putting their things away. Quickly looking through the notes, he found a list for the next session. "Chapters 11 and 12 and a pop quiz. Oops, not much of one if you know about it."

"Cheers, Harry," Ginny said, laughing. Colin beside her winked.

"That was an accident, really," Harry insisted, but they turned away still grinning.

Harry quickly collected up the lecture notes and caught the Slytherin Prefect as she arranged things in her bookbag. She shot him a dark look that converted to a frown. As the room cleared, he asked, "Why wouldn't they accept you?"

"They don't take Slytherins. Everyone knows that."

"Who said that? They don't ask it on the application."

Her teeth ground togther. Gesturing at the door she demanded, clearly upset, "So why are you arresting us all?"

In a very serious tone Harry explained, "I took Nott in because he set Avery up to kill Professor Snape."

"And how do you know that?" she sneered.

Harry looked over her angry features and said, "I hope you aren't too attached to Nott . . . he's going to be in Azkaban for rather a long time."

"No one ever gave him a break," she said, voice wavering. She tossed the last book into her bag hard. It clunked loudly against the chair seat. When she moved to lift the bag over her shoulder, Harry put a hand on her arm. He had a bad suspicion she had been helping Nott, but perhaps without really knowing what he was planning.

"Look," Harry said gently. "His biggest chance was getting to come back to school after arguably fighting on the wrong side in the final battle. He was given the benefit of the doubt for defending his father, who abandoned him in the end. It would take a lot to get over that and his injuries, and Nott didn't have it in him, apparently."

"Yeah, and what would you know about overcoming something like that?"

"A bit," Harry returned, sounding snide to his own ears. He forced everything down again and managed a soft tone. "But I can't overlook anyone attacking my family. Or anyone helping attack my family." He let that hang out there intentionally, but she didn't react more than to appear thoughtful. "If you knew Nott, the Aurors are going to want to talk to you." Her eyes rolled. "If you want your parents or Professor Snape, or even me there, that can be arranged."

"I don't want Professor Snape there," she said quietly.

Harry took out a scrap of parchment and jotted down Aaron's name and the Ministry address. "And take this. Aaron Wickem, a fellow apprentice would be happy to owl you, I believe. He was most definitely a Slytherin, so whoever told you they weren't accepted was lying." Harry strongly suspected Nott.

She looked painfully at the scrap and with a frown muttered a grudging, "Thanks."

"I have to run. I want to visit Severus before lunch. Good luck," he added before hitching up the now disorganized stack of lecture notes and heading out the door.

In the dispensary, Harry found Snape sitting up but resting his forehead heavily on his hand. He raised it immediately when the door swung open and sat a bit straighter as Harry approached. "How are you feeling?" Harry asked in concern.

"Improved. How was your morning?"

"Hectic. You do this all week. How do you manage it?"

Snape smiled faintly. "Practice."

"I have to confess that while I followed your notes with the fifth-years, I didn't for the seventh-years." At Snape's questioning brow Harry sat on the next bed and explained casually, "I, uh, jumped ahead and started on counter-curses because I'm better at those than the creatures you were covering. And, I had to arrest Nott because he let Avery into the castle, and-"

"What?"

"Afraid so."

Snape sat back and stared thoughtfully at the high ceiling. "Not too surprising, frankly."

"And I'm going to suggest the Aurors talk to Askunk as well."

"You are a quick study, Harry; they have been friendly of late. How much Legilimency did that require?"

"None." Harry returned a bit cockily, before glancing at the clock. "I have to go down to lunch. I'll see you this evening. Only the first-years yet."

"Hah," Snape snorted. "You think they are the easiest."

Harry turned. "They aren't?"

"Mindbogglingly frustrating, they are."

"And you have to watch that you don't step on them," Harry added, sounding sober.

"Yes. Please do avoid that."

They shared a grin before Harry turned again and departed in a swish of Snape's faded robe.

After a quick lunch Harry had to search the office, which had grown almost alarmingly disorganized just since that morning, for the right notes. He was about to simply wing it, when he found the correct folder. It was one minute after the hour when Harry stepped briskly into the room. The conversations dropped off to absolute silence as he walked down the middle row. Still rushing, he turned at the front and faced all twenty two of them, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Out of them all, Harry only recognized tiny Erasmus, whose large eyes and hair were about all there was of him.

No Dementor jokes this class, Harry thought, scanning the wide-eyed, nearly alarmed faces all turned up at him. The ones in the front row almost appeared to be ducking a bit. Putting on a friendly smile, Harry picked up the class roll. "Looks like you are all here, but let's go through the list so I can learn some names."

They each responded to their names in varying impersonations of a house-elf. Harry honestly could not imagine being one of them; he could not have been. He put down the roll and scanned the notes, but all he could think of was Snape's comment that he had shown up smaller than Erasmus the Mouse, there. "Well, looks like you did hex deflection last week. Is that right?" Someone nodded, a girl with about six little pigtails arranged around her head. She then swallowed hard, apparently at having attracted Harry's attention. In that instant Harry wished for a few Slytherins to liven things up. "And this week you have been covering the forty-one restricted potions . . . " Harry didn't know there were that many. "Hm," he said as he quickly glanced through the notes mostly in curiosity. "Not my best topic, apparently," he confessed. "Sounds a little boring too. What could we do instead?" He glanced at Pigtails, whose brow was furrowed. "Yeah," Harry said, "I know, Professor Snape likes to stick to the syllabus."

Oops, Harry thought. Have to watch that. Pigtails was leaning back in shock at having her thoughts spoken aloud. They were open books; it was almost impossible not to read their eyes. Plowing on, Harry stepped up onto the platform. "I'm partial to counter-curses myself. I wonder what we could get through in an hour and a half? Titan maybe?" The students were glancing at each other.

"Pixley," Harry said to a boy with very short jet black hair, whose name he had remembered. "Come on up. And who knows some good hexes?" All heads turned to a blonde girl in the back. "Shrumm, right?" Harry dredged up her name. "Come up too. Stand there." He indicated the far end of the platform. Looking very nervous, they both moved to stand where he had asked them to. Harry leaned down to talk to the boy. "Now, the Titan goes like this." Harry held his wand hooked under his thumb with his fingers spread, the boy copied that, looking interested rather than doubtful. Harry turned him around; it was like moving a metal spring Pixley was so tense. Harry dearly hoped it wasn't fear because there was only one thing on the platform to fear and it wasn't the champion hexer of the first-years who stood waiting fifteen feet away.

Continuing on as though everything was fine, Harry lifted the boy's hands into position. "This is a dome block, so all you have to do is push outwards from your hands."

"What's the incantation?" Pixley asked.

"There isn't one." Harry crouched behind the boy copying what they had done sometimes in D.A. when members had difficulty learning a spell. "Here, let me show you." He pressed his hands behind the small shaking ones, steadying them. "You simply push away with your mind the way you'd push something physical away. But you use the ball of magic inside you instead of muscles. I'll throw up a block, ready?"

"Yeah," came the small reply, actually more of a 'no' in intent.

Harry pushed out the weakest Titan block he could, the orange dome didn't even hover, but Pixley caught his breath. "Okay, let me try," he insisted impatiently. Harry backed off and the boy tried for a minute, even squeezing his eyes shut.

"You're trying too hard. Let me show you again." Pixley willing submitted to a second demonstration and Harry said, "You know, it is easier to bring it up under threat, I think. Shrumm, give us a small hex this way."

Harry noticed her shifting her wand. She apparently had been trying the Titan while she waited. Twisting her face in concentration she tossed a hex at them and Harry pushed a block through Pixley's hands. "A little much to counter a hair-growing hex, but it works."

"Let me try it alone," Pixley insisted.

Harry gratefully stood straight. "Nothing stronger than that, Ms. Shrumm," he warned sternly.

She blinked at him and said, "That's the worst one I know."

"Oh. It's true, you're not a Slytherin, are you," he thought aloud. Many giggled.

Shrumm sent another hair growing hex and Pixley invented his own incantation, something along the lines of "Yah!" But there was the smallest of orange flares and when he patted his head in a panic, no extra hair was present. "Did I do it?"

"I think so. Try it again, and lets get some more pairs working on it."

In the end Harry ended up teaching more hexes, because they were needed for practicing the block. He ignored the inner voice that chanted how unhappy certain quarters might be about that. But eight students produced some form of the block within an hour, although Harry cheated with Erasmus with just a little Legilimency to get the feel of the spell across. The boy was so thrilled to have gotten it, Harry didn't feel guilty at all.

"All right now, take your seats again." The students piled down from the platform and, with far more relaxed postures, took up their quills again, though their eyes were still awfully wide when they took him in. He sat down on the edge of the platform, thinking that might help. "We have some time for questions, or if you want to start talking about restricted potions. . ."

A hand went up. Harry called on a chubby boy with blonde hair growing straight up from a clump on the top of his head. The boy's name was Donavan, but Harry couldn't help internally referring to him as Dudley, even though the boy seemed perfectly normal.

"I have a question," Donavan announced and then remembered that he could take down his hand. "Who took the photograph on your chocolate frog card?"

"I meant questions about the lesson," Harry clarified, but a glance around the room revealed many interested expressions. Hoping that they didn't intend to take notes on his answer, Harry rubbed his brow and replied, "I have to honestly say that I was a bit distracted at the moment it was taken." Some grins appeared. "So I didn't notice. Someone told me later it was one of the Ministry recorders. Normally such photographs don't get released. Normally."

Pigtails piped in, "Everyone wanted to see he was really dead."

"Yes, they did," Harry agreed.

"Why did he come to the school?" Donavan asked, sounding confused. "Do all dark wizards come to the school?"

Harry chuckled. "No. Not as far as I know. Only when they are trying kill me."

"Good thing he did," Donavan said with feeling. At Harry's disturbed and questioning look, the flustered boy quickly explained, "Because he needed to be gotten rid of and if he'd kept hiding, or whatever, he would have lived a lot longer. Sir."

Harry considered that. "I suppose you could look at it that way."

"You killed him so easily," Erasmus pointed out.

"Uh. It didn't take long, but I wouldn't have said it was easy. Let's talk about something else."

"Aw . . . " Many voices said in disappointment.

Pigtails raised her hand. "Are you going to be teaching us next week?"

"I don't think so. I have training and Professor Snape should be back in . . . not too long." More noises of disappointment. "Don't you like him?" Harry teased.

"He's all right," Pigtails admitted, "But you're more fun. Snape's really tough."

"Professor Snape," Harry corrected stiffly, then winced inwardly at the irony. "And he's tough because wants to save your life. If you really need a spell to protect yourself and you didn't learn it here that would make him feel he'd failed, I think."

Pigtails frowned thoughtfully. "He can be kinda mean though," she complained.

"Ignore it," Harry said with a wink. "That's what I do."

They had endless questions, it seemed, or they really didn't want to start the other lecture. Yet another student with copious freckles put her hand up and said, "So why are you teaching instead? Aren't you too famous?"

"I didn't have anything else to do today," Harry explained pleasantly.

A previously quiet girl with long black hair asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Sort of," Harry hedged.

"What does that mean?"

Donavan leaned over and whispered loudly, "It means he has too many."

Harry pushed his hand over his hair; he was losing control of the situation somehow. "Next topic."

Freckles repeated, "But don't you have better things to do? Like, dark wizards to catch or something?"

"I'm only an Auror apprentice. I'm not supposed to be doing anything. But I caught a dark wizard this morning if that makes you feel better. And one the other night."

Pigtails asked carefully, "The one that came after Professor Snape?"

"Yes," Harry admitted. The class fell silent then and their alarmed expressions began to reappear. Harry shook himself out the dark revere that they may be picking up on. "So I don't get in trouble with Professor Snape, I'd better give you your assignment." He read the chapter readings off the syllabus.

Erasmus had his hand raised again. "Do you ever get grounded?"

Freckles scoffed. "And who would ground him?"

"Professor Snape," Erasmus returned as though the girl was slow. "He's Harry's dad."

Freckles looked shocked and disbelieving. "Don't be stu-"

"Ah-" Harry uttered sharply to shut them up.

Erasmus protested, "But he is. It said so in the American newspaper my mum gets."

Confused and possibly dismayed faces turned Harry's way. "Mr. Van Eschelon is right. He's my adoptive father."

"Professor Snape!" Pigtails blurted. "Really?"

"Yes," Harry replied in a stern tone.

"Oh," she muttered, just as the bell rang.

Erasmus stepped up to the front as the others departed, happily realizing that they were finished and had the weekend ahead of them. "Thank you, sir," Erasmus said, holding his small hand out.

Harry shook it, amused. "You're welcome." Behind him two of the girls were whispering. When he looked up, they blushed, said goodbye, and departed quickly, heads ducked.

"Girls," Erasmus scoffed.

"You should get your Friday underway, Mr. Van Eschelon," Harry prompted, then wondered who he was turning into to say that.

In the office Harry felt obligated to try to reorganize all the files he had pulled out, mixed up, and simply spilled on the floor in his rush to find everything. It took him half of an hour just to figure out how the files were supposed to be organized. Luckily, Snape had a strict scheme that was possible to pick up on. As he sorted, a rap sounded on the door and Belinda poked her head in.

"Hello," Harry greeted her warmly and put down the file he held open. "Didn't expect to see you here."

She smiled sweetly and said, "I convinced Minister Bones to let me come scope out what was actually going on." She closed the door with a click and approached the desk.

"Ah," Harry said. "I'm teaching. Severus is recovering. I sent Theodore Nott off with the Aurors."

"We heard about that, of course," she pointed out and leaned upon the desk, facing him. "And you are doing?" she asked concernedly.

Harry sighed lightly. "Is this for you or for your report to Bones?" he asked, honestly needing to know.

Her eyes darkened. "That's not fair, Harry. It's me asking. Trust me a bit," she added, sounding stung. After a pause, during which she studied his eyes closely, she said, "Is that why you are so standoffish with me? Do you think I go back to the Minister and report on everything we do?"

"No, of course not," Harry replied, feeling he didn't have enough spare emotion for this conversation and wishing it weren't happening. "I sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of that."

She leaned farther over, and he could smell her hair and ash from the Floo. "I was worried about you when I heard you were still at Hogwarts and I needed a good excuse to leave the office. Trust me to summarize anything personal out of what I tell her when I get back."

"All right. Of course you would." Harry rubbed his head and gathered his wits, which seemed more tattered than he wished they were.

"You're teaching?" she asked, glancing around the desk.

He picked up the file he had been working on. "At the moment I'm refiling. I was in a hurry."

"Want help?"

"No, that's all right. I messed it up. Have a seat though unless you have to get back."

She gave him that heartrate increasing smile again. "I have a few minutes. Tell me a bit more I can 'report' on, if you will."

Harry put a file of pop quizzes back away. "What does the Minister think of Severus?" he asked, wondering if she still considered him a free Death Eater, a former associate of Dumbledore, or didn't consider him anytthing at all.

"That's a question, not a fact I can pass on," she complained lightly. "I don't know the answer to that anyway. Why do you ask?"

Harry shrugged, not wanting to explain. "Just curious."

After a pause she said, "You are so mysterious; you know that?"

Harry looked up in surprise. "I don't try to be," he returned.

She clasped her hands together over her crossed knees and said frankly, "I've read everything there is written about you, but I don't know you at all." When Harry didn't respond, she went on with a touch of sadness, "I feel like . . . you hold that against me . . . " she frowned with pursed lips and looked hopeful for a response.

She seemed honestly hurt, which Harry didn't intend, so he said, "Some things . . . are just too hard to explain. I don't mean to . . . " He frowned as well, not finding words. He picked up another file and put it back down on another pile, aimlessly.

Belinda stood suddenly and straightened her robes. "I'm sorry. You have a lot going on and I'm here adding to it. I'm glad Professor Snape is all right and that you captured the last Death Eater. I'll tell the Minister everything is calm here and I'll see you at the ministry next week."

Harry called her to a halt when she reached the door, stood up, and came around the desk. He said, "Look. I like you a lot. It just takes time for me to want to share some things. It's actually harder with you because I don't . . . well, I don't want you think badly of me, or wonder . . . " Harry trailed off. She turned with such an aching expression that he gave in and finished the thought. " . . . wonder that I'm actually a dark wizard or something." Harry turned his gaze away as he spoke and tossed his arm to the side in frustration.

She gave him a nearly comically disbelieving glare. "Harry, how in the Wizarding world would I ever think that?" She sounded bizarrely like Ron as she said this. Her neutral face reasserted itself a moment later, as though she didn't want to behave so forcefully. She fell silent before suggesting, "You still have Dementors in your head or something?"

"No, but . . . I have other things in my head," Harry admitted and then immediately wished he had not.

She took that in during a longer thoughtful pause. Eventually, she said, "How could you not? After all that's happened. Merlin," she then muttered, "we're still discussing this." She came closer and gave him a firm hug. While holding him by the shoulders after releasing him, she said, "Harry, I refuse to believe that you are only pretending to be the nicest guy I've ever met. The nicest guy who also kicks serious arse when necessary." Harry let his eyes drift away from her very sincere hazel ones. She went on. "The Aurors said you managed single-handedly two nights ago. That's amazing. On the other hand they dodged the question of how you knew Avery was here."

Harry gave in again and stated, "I saw it in my dreams. I often see Voldemort's servants in my dreams, especially if they are performing dark magic."

She took that in while Harry waited for her reaction. "That must make it difficult to get a good night's sleep," she commented.

"Sometimes," Harry admitted, not entirely certain if she were simply putting forth that calm of hers and was actually alarmed behind it. He wished that she didn't make him feel so needful of her acceptance. Maybe he was doing that on his own. She tweaked him on the chin and he met her gaze.

"I won't pass that on to the Minister," she said.

"Maybe not," Harry agreed with a wry twitch of his lips.

"No wonder you and Professor Snape get on so well."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"He always seemed like a dark magic fan. You must fascinate him," she suggested, half-teasing.

Harry exhaled. "I fascinated him when no one else wanted to deal with me because I think I alarmed them too much." This time it felt like a release to explain things and Harry thought maybe he could make a better try at doing so.

"That explains things a bit." She glanced at the clock and gave him a quick kiss. "I have to get back. Take care, all right. Stop by at lunch when you can."

Harry now felt a bit sad to see her depart. "I'll do that."

Harry returned to the desk, diligently keeping his thoughts from the feel of her kiss that still lingered minutes later, and continued to go through every folder to make sure everything was straight and in a reasonable order before filing it away. As he was refiling the midterm notes that had somehow been mixed in with N.E.W.T. preparation quizzes, an exceptionally light tap sounded on the door. Harry called out that it was open. He was expecting McGonagall, although it didn't seem like her kind of knock.

The door swung partly open and a small face peered around it, followed by another, the second face was Freckles from the previous class. "What can I do for you?" Harry asked.

"Um," the first one, a plain looking girl with glasses, uttered in hesitation before getting pushed into the room by Freckles. A third and forth followed with no little trepidation. They resembled turtles to some degree; their heads were tucked down so far between their shoulders.

Freckles, clutching a large book as though it were a shield, said, "We, uh, wondered if you'd give an autograph?"

Harry slowly looked over the four sets of large, disturbingly fawning eyes. He believed he now knew what a freshly unwrapped ice cream treat felt like. "Hm," he said, mostly to stall. "How about this?" He pulled out the class notes he had just filed and found the lecture notes he was supposed to have gone over. "Got a quill?"

All of them moved, so quickly that two bookbags spilled onto the floor to much blushing and perhaps even one tear. Harry casually went on, "Write these down." He read out the five potions from the list that he didn't recognize. They hadn't covered potion regulations yet in his training, but it bothered him not to know what all of these were, when Snape was teaching them to first-years. He wondered if the former Potions master wasn't trying to show up the current one a bit. "Take out your books and write out what each of those is for me, will you? I'll trade that for a few autographs." If he could buy things on Diagon Alley that way, he considered, he wouldn't need an allowance.

Brightly, the girls got to it, all managing to somehow share the one small desk and extra chair. Harry went back to filing, ignoring the occasional long glance he received. He shook himself for thinking like Lockhart, which reminded him that he needed to find Lockhart, or that someone needed to find Lockhart. Without a keeper he should turn up pretty quickly, probably wandering in Piccadilly Circus through Muggle Lorry traffic. That image heartened Harry rather a lot. Lockhart probably would be better of if someone other than Harry found him.

"Mr. Potter, sir?" Freckles, the apparent group leader, prompted Harry out of his far away thoughts.

He put on a smile. "I'm not teaching as of an hour ago, call me Harry."

She blushed better than Ron. "Oh, okay," she replied in a very tiny voice.

Harry accepted the sheet and looked it over with a critical eye, which wasn't easy given the variations on the admitted highly neat writing. Something about the hearts, smileys, and even flowers and birds used in place of various punctuation made the content hard to get to. But it read like something straight out of a book.

"Thanks." He set it aside. "What would you like autographed?" She held out the book she had been carrying. He flipped it open to the marked page. "What is this?" he asked.

"The Witch Weekly Yearbook, sir, uh, Harry." A bright smile followed.

"I've never seen this."

"You're in it a lot," she stated helpfully, clearly happy about that. She leaned over the desk and pointed at a picture of him from a Quidditch match, the one the Dementors interrupted. But it was a good picture of him, in the close foreground, cutting in the opposite direction from Malfoy, who did not look to be having fun and whose figure kept trying to get out from behind Harry. "Can you sign that one, please?"

Harry did so, and handed the book back. The next girl, the one with gold-rimmed glasses, shyly came forward. Harry tried a reassuring smile and wondered if he looked like Lockhart used to. With a jolt he also wondered if what that man had been hadn't been less himself and more what the world turned him into. Glasses had a Gryffindor flag to be autographed. When signed, she gingerly took it back as though it had turned to glass, and backed up a step before saying, "You're much cuter in person."

"Am I?" Harry asked, for lack of anything else to say. There was general agreement about this. "Better than being uglier, I suppose."

Autographs finished, they packed up their things and thanked him repeatedly. One of them whispered to the other. "I'm going to owl my mum!"

Before they left, Harry said, "Don't show those around 'til I'm gone this evening."

Freckles smiled conspiratorially, "Sure, Harry."

They departed with much whispering and giggling, and McGonagall stepped inside in their wake. "Ah, the Harry Potter Fan Club did manage a personal appearance."

"Yep," Harry sighed.

"I do hope you are coming down to dinner?"

Startled, Harry asked the time while he found his watch. "Yes," he replied, "are you going down now?" He quickly filed the last two folders, hoping he had gotten them right.

"Take your time, Harry," she said gently. She paced slowly around while Harry put a few stray things away and straightened up. McGonagall stopped in the middle of the office and stared at the stone floor with a faraway expression. Harry followed her gaze and felt that terrible shifting of reality as if those two drastically diverging paths of recent past could be accidentally swapped, leaving him again facing that agonizing grief.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "I didn't come here to take you back."

Harry stood and slipped Snape's robe back on. "It's all right," he said, but the floor felt unstable and his chest tight.

"Also I hope you will do me a favor?" At his nod she went on, "Take Severus home for the weekend if you will. Make certain he rests and, if on Monday morning--no make that Sunday night--if he is not one hundred percent, owl me and we will cover his classes, as long as necessary. I don't want him straining himself. Remus said he is available. All right?"

"Sure."

She held out her arm, crooked at the elbow and Harry, with a smile, accepted it. She escorted him this way, patting his hand with her other, as they walked around to the staircase. "It is good when everything works out all right."

"It's shocking when everything works out all right," Harry commented vehemently.

"Oh, my poor Harry," she said sympathetically.

Harry was in the mood for sympathy and accepted it in silence.

The Grand Staircase and Entrance Hall were full of loudly chatting students. Many turned and greeted them deferentially as they passed. In the aisle on the way to the front of the Great Hall, McGonagall said, "Are you coming to our Christmas Ball?"

"I don't think I can find a date in time."

"I thought perhaps you would be mine," she returned with wink. A few strides later, they were on the platform beside her chair. She gave his arm a surprisingly hard squeeze before turning to speak with Flitwick. Harry took the seat beside hers and made small talk with Sinistra on his right.

The hall gradually filled with boisterous students. Ginny gave Harry a wave and came up to stand before the head table. "How was your first day of teaching?" she asked.

"Too eventful," Harry returned over the general noise.

McGonagall said, "Ask him how the first meeting of the unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club went."

Harry shot the headmistress a dismayed look. Ginny said, "Oh dear. Who is that?"

"The four muskatellas," McGonagall said.

"Oh. Them. Poor Harry," she said in sympathy.

"I survived," Harry countered.

"Take your seat, Ms. Weasley, and we will start." Ginny turned with a last wave at Harry. McGonagall clapped her hands twice and platters appeared. Harry had just reached to serve himself when he noticed the center doors opening and a familiar figure enter. He released the long spoon and watched as Snape, heavily relying on a cane, made his way down the center aisle. Many of the students stopped and turned as well. Harry had to grip the table edge with both hands to resist jumping up to help his guardian.

Eventually, Snape made it around the long table to where they sat in the middle. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and leaned on it hard. McGonagall stood and with her wand, waved another placesetting between them. Snape didn't move to it; he gestured for Harry to. "Go ahead, Harry. I'm sure Minerva would like to sit beside you, as she has more than enough of my company."

Harry looked up at him, marveling at his very strange smile. Snape gestured again and Harry shifted over one. Their placesettings magically switched as he settled in. Snape, gingerly it appeared, lowered himself into the chair Harry had vacated. Harry wanted to ask if he were really recovered enough to be here, but held back; it wasn't as if Snape were going to turn around and return to the dispensary this minute. Instead, Harry pushed the potatoes over to him, and then swapped that bowl for the chicken stew.

As they all started eating, McGonagall leaned close and whispered, "You are hovering, Harry. He hasn't chastised you for that?"

"Am I? No, he hasn't," Harry muttered back. He tried harder to relax then but panic seemed to surge through him for no good reason.

"How were the first-years?" Snape asked.

Harry took a deep breath. "Mostly all right. You didn't warn me about the mooners."

"Ah. Didn't think to. Did you make it through all the potions?"

"No, sorry. I stuck with what I'm good at--defensive spells."

"Really? What did you teach them?"

Harry served himself more mead to stall. This moment had not been on his mind when he had arbitrarily changed topics in class. "Um, a counter-curse."

Sounding dubious, Snape asked, "And how did that go?"

"Um . . . " Harry considered that less than half of the class got anything out of it. "Well . . . "

Snape leaned past him. "Minerva," he spoke across Harry. "You hired Harry Potter to teach Defense today and no matter what the syllabus said, he taught only counter-curses. All day."

"No. The first session I covered . . . Dementors and Lethifolds."

"Sorry, I take it back," Snape said with more of his old snide. "He can cover other topics with which he is personally familiar."

Harry laughed. McGonagall leaned forward and said, "Judging by the jealousy I have heard expressed this afternoon from the students not so honored as to have Mr. Potter's tuition today, I believe we can allow him some leeway. For one day, at least."

"Hm," Snape muttered doubtfully, but he was still smiling vaguely.

The Great Hall emptied out after the plates and platters vanished. Harry felt much more relaxed with a warm full stomach and Snape beside him, the color more than returned to his complexion. The teachers, unusually, were the last to depart, aside from a few seventh-year Gryffindors, who were waiting for Harry. When the three of them stood, McGonagall leaned close to Snape, "I have instructed Harry to take you home to recuperate, Severus. No arguments."

Harry, who was considering going and speaking with his friends, remained in place instead and tried to appear stern. "Hm," was all Snape said before he hobbled along the back of the head table, the rest of them in tow. "I should perhaps go pack, in that case," Snape conceded. Harry started to follow him to the doors of the hall, but Snape stopped and said dismissively, "I believe your friends wish to visit with you."

Harry stopped. "Oh . . . yeah." Snape gave him an extra visual nudge, so he turned and walked over to Ginny, the Creevey brothers and a few others who were still gathered at the end of the house table, talking animatedly. They greeted him warmly and made space on the end of the bench for him.


McGonagall followed the slow moving Snape to his office where he stopped to run his hand over the worn, age-blackened decorative flower carving on the replacement door. They stood in silence as a large cluster of third-years passed, after which McGonagall asked, "Are you all right?"

Frankly, Snape replied, "Very much so."

McGonagall hesitated before following as she worked out that reply. "That didn't sound the least bit sarcastic, Severus." She closed the door behind her, blocking out the youthful voices from the corridor.

Almost pleasantly, Snape replied, "It wasn't." He pulled out a small trunk and began filing a few things into it.

"Severus, don't work. Don't concern yourself with anything."

"I will go mad with nothing to occupy myself."

"Catch up with Harry. He clearly misses you." Dropping her voice, she added, "He clearly needs a rest as well."

Snape stared through the far wall, lost in recent memory. He laughed lightly as he tried to take it all in.

"Perhaps . . . you also need a slightly different kind of Healer . . ." she gently insinuated.

"No, I am quite all right," he countered, still sounding queerly pleasant. The small trunk was returned to the cupboard, empty. Lifting it even empty had been a strain, but Snape didn't let on to this. He met her worried gaze and held it steadily. That light feeling from the veil hadn't completely escaped, or perhaps it was lack of blood making him faint and euphoric. "I've won," he stated and then laughed in a huff.

McGonagall didn't speak, although she did rub her hands together before dropping them at her sides. Snape discovered in himself an unusual desire to be understood by his longtime colleague. He tugged his long sleeves down over his hands to cover a chill from the cool room on his arms. "I could not pass through the veil. Albus prevented me from doing so."

Her expression shifted to amazement. "Truly? You saw Albus?"

Smiling wryly, he replied, "Yes. My assurances to Harry were not misguided." She started to speak but then stopped. Snape filled the silence with an even more wry observation. "He insisted I return to care for Harry--as opposed to for my own benefit."

McGonagall smiled lightly with him. "Albus always assumed those around him wished to be as selfless as he was."

Snape considered that he understood the old wizard better now; previously, similar situations had aggravated him. He put a few textbooks into a shoulder bag and placed it on the desk just as a rap sounded on the heavy door. The door opened and Harry put his head inside. "When are we leaving?"

"Soon," Snape replied.

Harry waved his friends on and started to step in, but McGonagall said, "I need a moment more with Severus, if you wouldn't mind, Harry dear."

"Oh. All right." He backed out and pulled the door closed behind him.

McGonagall paced before the desk while Snape waited for her to continue. Quietly now, she said, "I've underestimated you in the past, but I am concerned that you are not skilled enough to fully help him." She gestured at the door.

Without rancor Snape replied, "I believe I can manage."

She persisted, "He is injured-"

"He is scarred. He wears in it plain sight." Snape hoisted the books over his shoulder and replayed his own assertion to James Potter in his mind. "I appreciate your concern, Minerva. But trust that I do understand his difficulty--as well as my responsibilities." He fell into silent thought before observing, "The risk Harry took in accepting me as a guardian has only become clear to me now, and I am compelled to honor that--as well as other oaths I seem to have taken in the interests of getting even."

She studied him closely, trying to eek out some understanding of that.

Snape went on. "I am not averse to your assistance, however. I can certainly bring Harry to you more often for visits."

She scoffed. "You force me to confess my utter gratitude at your survival to care for him. He was in my hands, and I was completely unable to help him."

Snape picked up his cane and used it to step by her to the door. "Harry desires your praise--of that I am certain. You could perhaps be freer with it." He opened the door to cut off any reply she may have to that.

Harry and a cluster of older students were waiting in the corridor. Harry immediately came over and took Snape's bag off of his shoulder.

"You may use the Floo in my office," McGonagall invited.

Harry made his goodbyes and followed along farther into the castle. In the headmistress' tower as they organized before the hearth, McGonagall said, "Anything you need, please owl. Anything at all."

"Thanks," Harry said sincerely and gave a little wave goodbye. McGonagall waved back as Harry stepped into the blackened hearth.