The Man of the Moment

Chapter Sixteen: Seeing Double

All in all, Harry was actually glad to be back at school, preparing to attend lessons. Alex and Snape's marriage announcement had gone down like a lead weight in the River Thames, and all Harry had heard for the next week were dark grumblings about doomed romances, threats to their operation and the dangers of mixing business with pleasure. Faith had added Alex to her list of Brethren members whose presence disgusted her. Only Hagrid seemed genuinely happy for them both. Personally, Harry didn't care either way, but Ginny certainly seemed to find it somewhat amusing, at least, and kept whispering things to an increasingly embarrassed looking Hermione.

"It's wrong, Harry- just wrong," Ron said wearily, as he unpacked the last of his belongings. Harry knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Yep," Harry replied. Neville, Seamus and Dean had not yet returned to Hogwarts, which at least left them free to discuss matters for a few hours.

"I mean, why would Alex want to marry that slimeball, anyway?" Ron continued. Harry shrugged.

"Don't know," he replied.

"I mean, what's the point? They've said they aren't going public about it, because of Snape's involvement in the Order. I reckon the real reason is she'd rather keep it quiet," Ron said, darkly.

Hermione, who was sitting on the edge of Ron's bed, looked reproachfully at him.

"If she was that ashamed, she wouldn't have married him in the first place," she pointed out. "You know, it is just possible that they happen to love each other."

Ron grimaced.

"That's even more disgusting! How could you love him?"

Harry suddenly felt queasy.

"You don't suppose they're... well..." He trailed off on seeing Hermione's red face and Ron's horrified expression. It was clear they had both got the point.

"Harry, you burn that mental image out of my head this instant!" Ron exclaimed, shuddering at the thought.

"I should think they definitely are, Harry," Ginny replied, as she sprawled out on Neville's bed as though she owned it. Harry looked at her.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I don't," she replied. "But, it would explain why, last term, I saw Alex sneaking about the dungeons late at night wearing just an oversized nightshirt that clearly didn't belong to her."

"The kitchens are in the dungeons. Couldn't she have just wanted a quick snack?" Harry suggested, lamely. Ginny snorted.

"I've never heard it called that before," she replied.

Ron stared at her.

"What were you doing in the dungeons at night time, anyway?" he demanded. Ginny shrugged.

"I was trying to sneak a piece of late homework into Snape's classroom. Alex proved to be an excellent diversion..." She trailed off at Harry, Ron and Hermione's disgusted expressions.

"That's as bad as being reminded your parents... have quick snacks," Ron said, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Hermione asked. Ginny looked askance at her.

"I was editing my experiences to avoid disgusting you all!" she replied. "I reckoned there was little point in keeping your minds unsullied by that now we know they've got hitched."

"Who's got hitched?" Neville asked, having opened the door and floated his trunk down next to his bed, at which Ginny sat up to provide space for him to sit down.

"Oh, just Ron and Ginny's Muggle neighbours from the village," Hermione replied, quickly. Neville nodded.

"Hmm... Did you all have a nice Christmas?" he asked. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione collectively groaned.

"Had better," Harry admitted. Neville's eyes widened in horror.

"Nobody... nobody got killed, did they?" he asked. Harry shook his head violently.

"Oh, not at all, no! It was just... well, there were a lot of people around- let's just say it got tense," he explained. Neville accepted this explanation, and sat down on his bed.

"Yeah, Christmas can be a pain- especially when your family get drunk on dry sherry and go on about how we're all doomed because Dumbledore has passed... Sorry, self-projection there," he admitted, bashfully. Ginny patted him on the arm.

"It's okay," she replied, in a soothing tone. Neville snorted.

"I don't think so," he countered, handing a copy of the Daily Prophet to her. Ginny scan-read it, her eyes widening as she did so.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, in a horrified voice. "Listen to this! 'You-Know-Who's Forces Attack Muggle London Shopping Area!' Apparently a group of Death Eaters attacked Covent Garden Market with a series of Explosion Curses. Around fifteen Muggles died, and at least seventy were seriously injured. The Ministry had to sneak in Healers to speed up recovery times, and the Aurors were called out on emergency- but it looks like they didn't catch anyone. They had to rush a bunch of Obliviators in, as well. What a way to start the New Year," she finished, hotly. Hermione sighed heavily.

"We knew this was coming," she replied. "It doesn't make it any easier, though. What could they possibly gain from such a random, violent attack?"

Neville shook his head.

"The world knowing of their existence and power, I suppose," he offered. "Not that it made much difference- the Daily Prophet says that all those Muggles thought it was an attack by the I.R.S..."

"I.R.A, Neville," Hermione corrected.

"Right. All it's done is worry the wizards," Neville finished.

"That's all they really need to do," Ron said, looking out of the window. "It'll soon filter down to the Prime Minister, won't it?"

Hermione had borrowed the copy of the Daily Prophet that Ginny was reading through and frowning as she read.

"They're asking people to send in anonymous owls if they know the names or whereabouts of the Death Eaters that instigated the attack- as if anybody is going to risk their lives by doing that!" she commented, darkly.

"And there lies Voldemort's flawless plan," Neville replied, sarcastically. "Nobody will speak up because they're so scared, which allows him to carry on his attacks, which in turn makes people more scared."

"Exactly. It's a vicious circle," Hermione said, quietly.

"And getting more vicious by the minute," Harry commented. He didn't want to think about where all this was going to lead, but he knew he must. He felt sure that this was the first reported attack by Voldemort's forces on Muggles alone- most of the other attacks had been on Muggle-borns and their families, or just wizards in general. He was the only one that could stop it, apparently. Yet here he was, sitting in the boys' dormitory of Gryffindor house, unable to do a thing to help. So much for the 'one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord...'

"Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just concerned, you know..."

"Aren't we all?" Neville replied, sympathetically.

Suddenly, Ginny jumped off Neville's bed and squealed, "Dean!"

"Oh, you're back, are you?" Ron commented. Dean laughed a little as he dropped his trunk to embrace Ginny.

"By popular demand!" he joked.

"Shift your arse, Dean!" Seamus grunted, as he nearly floated his trunk into Dean's back, who backed away into the wall to allow Seamus room.

"Sorry, Seamus," he replied, still holding onto Ginny. Harry noticed Ron looking steadfastly at the wall opposite to Dean and Ginny. Hermione seemed to notice too, as she got up from Ron's bed and tapped Ginny on the shoulder.

"We'd better get unpacking. You can meet up with Dean later," she said, with a sly nod towards an embarrassed looking Ron. Ginny blushed, and grinned.

"That's a good idea," she replied, before leaning closer to Dean and kissing him, which Harry discovered was a rather uncomfortable thing to witness, and soon found himself looking at the same patch of wall Ron was.

"See you later," Hermione called, before she and Ginny left the boys' dormitory to head towards their own. Harry was certain he heard Ginny squeal, "Oh, Hermione, he didn't! Wow, I'll say something for the Bulgarians- they know how to give good gifts!"

One look at Ron's crestfallen expression suggested to Harry that he wasn't the only one who had overheard Ginny's exclamations.

"Ron?" Harry asked, feeling a little concerned about Ron's sudden change in mood.

"Did you hear that?" Ron asked. Harry nodded.

"It's got to be Krum, hasn't it?" Ron queried, looking straight at Harry. "Hermione doesn't know any other Bulgarians..."

"It's nothing to worry about," Harry soothed. "Viktor is an international Quidditch player, he's bound to have more money to throw around..." He promptly shut up when he saw Ron's face, and quickly realised his efforts were not helping in the slightest.

"I just get concerned when famous older men buy extravagant gifts for younger schoolgirls- it makes me wonder what they want in return," Ron said, darkly.

Seamus, upon hearing this, burst into laughter.

"Oh, come on," he said. "As if Hermione would let anyone push her around! She held off a bunch of Death Eaters- I reckon a randy Bulgarian would be child's play."

"Don't joke about that!" Ron retorted, warningly. Seamus raised his hands.

"Sorry- I wasn't trying to joke about it," he replied. Ron exhaled sharply.

"Well, good," he replied, in a softer tone of voice. "She's got it hard at the moment, what with the War and everything..."

"She isn't the only one," Dean commented, darkly.

"What happened?" Harry asked. Dean shrugged.

"Nothing... it's just that me and a bunch of my Muggle mates were planning to go to Covent Garden, you know, the day the attack happened. One of them didn't have enough money, though. We discussed paying his way for him, but he's a proud guy. Instead, we went to the local park and played a bit of footie..."

"You had a narrow escape," Neville said. Dean sighed.

"I know," he replied. "It just freaked me out a bit, that's all. My parents are happy to believe it was the I.R.A. though- otherwise I doubt I'd be back here."

"At least your family aren't sitting around, prophesising the doom of all wizarding kind," Neville said, with a sad smile. Dean looked at him.

"No- they're just ignorant of it all. To be honest, I'm not sure what's worse. I'd imagine Hermione only got away because she knew what was going on..."

Conversation ground to a halt at that point. Neville, Seamus and Dean silently unpacked their belongings, and Ron flopped onto his bed, a melancholic expression on his face.

"Ron," Harry whispered, "Hermione's okay, and so are her parents- Dean doesn't know that, and neither does anyone else. I know the thought of what could have happened is a horrible one, but don't dwell on it."

Ron nodded.

"I'm not," he replied, before turning over and resting his chin on his hands.

"Then what's the matter?" Harry asked, tentatively. Ron looked across at him.

"Nothing- really," he replied, unconvincingly. "I think I just want to take a nap... You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Harry replied, as he watched Ron turn onto his side.

Harry got up and turned a key in the fourth lock of the trunk Lupin bought him, pulling out a small, red diary that offered him comfort and revulsion in equal measure. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Ron was making no effort to get any sleep, though he mutely voted not to enquire about it. Neville, Dean and Seamus also looked over at Ron, before looking at each other and shrugging.

"What's up with Ron?" Neville mouthed to Harry, who shrugged in reply.

"Don't know," he mouthed back, before he flicked his mother's diary open.

12/06/76:

Sometimes, being a prefect is incredibly hard work, especially when so-called prefects like that Remus Lupin don't do their job! We'd just had our Defence O.W.L. this morning (just the theory, mind- the practical happened in the afternoon!), and I'm walking out of the Great Hall with Tessa, Sylvia and some of the others, when I see James Potter and Sirius Black fighting with Severus. Two against one isn't exactly fair, is it? Although judging by the flash of light from his wand and the blood that splattered Potter's robes, Severus didn't exactly defend himself in a noble fashion. Not that it was an excuse for Potter and Black to expose his pants to the gathering students. That's just cruel; though I had to admire the thought that had gone behind it- exactly how much trouble could you get into by doing something like that? They weren't exactly harming anybody. Severus, however- he could get into a lot of trouble for using any sort of jinx that draws blood... I'm going to kill Remus! He just sat there, and pretended nothing was going on! I know that Potter and Black are his friends, but that shouldn't interfere with his prefect duties. He's usually so good- he's kind and fair, and he just has this knack of knowing what to say, and the right time to say it. True, he does have a mischievous streak- one which the teachers don't appear to have even noticed- but he's really rather sweet. No wonder Sylvia keeps nudging me and winking every time I go to a Prefect's meeting. I think she might like him, if you know what I mean. Never the less, this time, it was left to me to maintain some order.

"Let him down!" I ordered, as commandingly as I could. However, it suddenly struck me that Potter and Black had gone to all this trouble to essentially get a look at Severus' pants. I couldn't help but smile at the thought; James Potter spends so much time ruffling up his hair to try and attract girls, yet he clearly puts equal effort into looking up boys' robes. Potter eventually let him down and basically claimed it was only because of me.

Then Severus, despite having been hanging upside down in the air like some kind of bat just seconds earlier, managed to completely floor me.

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

I couldn't believe it. I just stared at him a moment- though I imagine I blinked, or something. How dare he, how dare he say that to me? I was only trying to help! I carried his child for nine months... well, eight, if you want to get technical. I could feel my blood boil; but I was not going to give him the satisfaction- no way, no how!

"Fine, I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

Hah- that'll teach him. Bastard. I sounded so calm too- I could be an actress!

Oh, but then Potter just had to intervene, trying to make Severus apologise, as if I can't fight my own battles. Anyway, he doesn't know the half of what Severus needs to apologise to me for. I was so angry with him, with Severus, with Remus, with myself for ever being so stupid as to get myself in the family way before I'd even done my O.W.L.s, that I just felt myself explode. I just ranted on and on at James, I almost felt sorry for him as I stormed off. Wait; scratch that, I did not feel sorry for him. I said he made me sick- I'm not sure whether that was supposed to be directed at him or Severus... oh, I hate boys! They're all absolutely hopeless!

That didn't stop me from accosting Severus later on, though, once all the hubbub had died down. I waited until after our Defence Practical O.W.L.- I'd much rather get a good mark in that than try to sort Severus out- but I caught him before he headed up to Ravenclaw Tower.

"What do you want now?" he practically snarled at me.

"Let me think; could it possibly be to ask you why the hell you called me a- what was it again? Oh yes; a 'filthy little mudblood'?"

I tapped my foot impatiently, awaiting a response. Severus just glared at me.

"Alright- I'm sorry. Happy?" he replied, as he tried to push past me. I grabbed his arm roughly.

"No, I'm not happy!" I yelled at him. "All I did was try to help you out, and you just threw it back in my face!"

Severus looked at me as though I had gone mad.

"Help me?" He laughed harshly and shook his head. "All you've done ever since the first moment I've properly met you is get me into bother! I had to get involved with that stupid dance competition and look like an absolute idiot in front of all those people because of you! I've had that Potter boy on my back for the past year because of you..."

"Me?" I was flabbergasted. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Yes, you- he's spotted us talking now and then and feels it's his duty to make sure I'm not harassing you in any way..."

"He... he doesn't know, does he?" I asked, frightened for a moment that James Potter, of all the people in Hogwarts, had found out I had a child. Severus snorted.

"Oh, don't you worry- he doesn't know you've had a child. Your flawless reputation has remained intact. Ironic that out of the two of us, you're the one that has borne the least inconvenience out of this whole situation we've found ourselves in."

I stared at him in shock.

"What on earth do you mean?" I asked, quietly. Severus looked at me.

"Who was the one that risked expulsion in keeping your reputation unblemished?" he asked, quietly. "Who was the one that managed to find a decent solution to the problem of your being pregnant?"

"And who was the one that got me in that position in the first place?" I retorted, shrilly.

"It took the two of us..."

"I was drunk!" I retorted. Severus glared angrily at me.

"Oh, don't use that one on me!" he said, heatedly. "It wasn't as though you were half-insensible. You were pretty lucid- in fact, you were the one all over me like some kind of rash!"

"That was the drink," I spat. "You can't honestly think I'd have gone anywhere near you were I sober!"

Severus paled for a moment, but he quickly recovered.

"Well," he laughed (except I could tell he was upset), "if we are going to hit below the belt; perhaps that explains the reason you don't go to visit Persephone. Seeing as you're so repulsed by me, I imagine you can't bear the thought that she's made up of half of me!"

I felt as though he had just taken a gun and shot me clean through the heart.

"How can you say that? She's my baby!" I stammered. Severus stared hard at me.

"No, she's our baby! Why do you keep saying she's yours, as though I don't matter? She's mine too! Besides, I'm the one that actually bothers to go and spend time with her!"

That did it. I wanted to kill him- I actually wanted to snap his puny neck and watch his pathetic excuse for a carcass crash onto the floor. Preferably with a ridiculous expression on his face.

"Well, I'm glad you can go and play with her as though she's your little sister or something, because it kills me every time I look at her! Do you want to know the real reason I don't go to see her every chance I get? I can't bear to hold her and know I can't be the one to look after her, okay!"

I felt my eyes well up with tears, but I knew after everything that had just been said that I would get no sympathy from Severus- not that I wanted it. Instead, I just let them fill my eyes and blur my vision. At least it made Severus look noticeably more handsome.

"I love this," Severus said, looking up at the sky and laughing harshly. "I just love the way that you assume nobody else could possibly feel as much pain as you, and that you insist you're acting out of nobility. Well, here's some food for thought- has it ever occurred to you, even once, that I might feel the exact same way when I hold my daughter? That I feel she should be with me, no matter how ridiculous the notion that I could bring up a child is?"

He looked at me in expectation of a reply, but I couldn't say anything. Any words I might have had just stuck in my throat. Truth was, I really hadn't considered that he might feel the same way. He was a boy. Boys don't consider such things- they just want to run around playing Quidditch, chasing girls and getting into fights (or, in the case of Remus today, keeping out of fights).

"I thought not," he snorted. "Well, guess what, Lily- it hurts, okay? It hurts more than I can bear, but I put up with that pain and visit her because I know I have to. She's a clever girl- she's only ten months old, yet she can say 'Mummy' and 'Daddy' and 'tree'. She can make little towers out of her building blocks- true; they're only about three or four bricks high, but still. She even used my wand to conjure an Illumination spell when she wanted to see what was in the kitchen one evening- children generally only start doing that when they're between twelve and eighteen months old! If you'd have been around, you'd know this..."

"Get to the point, Severus!" I snapped.

"The point is, she's going to figure it out, one day. She'll work out that Porphyria and François are not her blood parents. She'll ask questions- she'll want to know who we are, and I'll be damned if I'm going to be just a story to her- some randy schoolboy who knocked up a classmate and dumped her onto my sister. I made a mistake, but I am not going to let her suffer because of it. I am not going to let her down again!"

I was flabbergasted. I'd never heard Severus talk like this, as though he really cared about anyone.

"Look, Severus, I'm..."

"Save it for someone who cares," he spat, before turning around and walking away. I watched him go, uncertain as to whether I should go after him or not.

Then he turned around to face me.

"By the way- her birthday's on the 22^nd of August. Just in case you'd forgotten," he said, sharply, and I decided I definitely wasn't going to go after him. How could he say such things to me, as though I didn't even care enough about Persephone to remember the day I gave birth to her? I sometimes feel as though he has been put on this earth to upset me, but I refused to cry. No way am I going to give him the satisfaction. Except it turned out I really was giving him the satisfaction, because I could feel tears streaming down my face. Then I noticed as Severus was storming off towards the lake, that his shoulders were twitching in a manner that suggested he was crying. Really crying.

I felt awful- here we were, the pair of us so hurt and angry with each other for exactly the same reasons. It was almost comical. We both want the best for Persephone, we both can't help but love her, we both keep trying to protect each other, and we both hate each other for doing the protecting. Oh, the whole thing just makes my brain ache!

So, I decided to go after him. I probably didn't need to even say anything- just give him a hug or something. He can be a bit funny about such displays of affection, but we really needed to sort this out and have a talk without yelling accusations at each other.

Then Potter had to stick his oar in, didn't he?

"Evans? Are you okay?"

Damn it! If Potter had noticed, I can't be doing a good job of hiding it.

"I'm fine- not that it's got anything to do with you!" I snapped back, deliberately keeping my face hidden from him, although I did notice he looked somewhat awkward.

"Erm, look... I'm sorry if I upset you- I didn't mean to... It's just Snape..."

"It's got nothing to do with you!" I spat. Ooh- he is so arrogant, I could swing for him!

"Do you want a tissue?" he offered.

"Just leave me alone!" I snapped, and headed off in the direction I had seen Severus disappear to.

By the time I found him, he wasn't alone. That awful Bellatrix girl was sitting next to him. I was about to interrupt, except that for once today, I didn't want to intervene. It would have raised too many questions- the pair of us crying, me asking if I could speak to Severus alone? No- he wouldn't thank me for that. I certainly wouldn't thank him for it if he did that to me.

"Can I sit here?" she asked. Severus glared up at her beaming face, set in what was probably the sweetest smile she could conjure up.

"The Hogwarts grounds are pretty big- can't you sit somewhere else?" he asked. Bellatrix shrugged.

"I was looking for the company," she replied.

"Like I said, Hogwarts is pretty big..."

"The specific company," she interrupted, and Snape's face went red.

"Come to have a laugh at my expense after this afternoon?" He spread his arms and looked down his body, before looking back up at her. "Go ahead."

Bellatrix looked at him curiously.

"No- I just wanted to say hi. I've wanted to say hi for about five years, but the only thing I could come up with to start off the conversation was, 'Hi, you're the boy that hexed me on the Hogwarts train in our first year and gave me really nasty boils for a week- how's things?' Now at least I can try, 'Are you okay?'"

Severus looked up at her, and wiped his eyes with his hand. She pulled a handkerchief out of her robe pocket and silently dabbed at his cheeks.

"Don't let those stupid boys bother you," she advised. "They're really not worth the effort..."

"It's not them," Severus quickly replied. Bellatrix observed him curiously.

"Then what is it?" she asked. Severus shrugged.

"Private," he replied. Bellatrix nodded.

"Fair enough."

"Anyway, isn't that Black some relation of yours?" Severus asked. Bellatrix wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"He's my cousin; much as I'm loath to admit it," she replied, sourly. "I try to avoid him at all costs- the less I have to associate with him, the better."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and I almost made my move to talk to him, except that Bellatrix started up their conversation again.

"So, is it true that you hexed Potter and made his face bleed?" she asked, eagerly. Severus looked askance at her.

"What of it?" he retorted. Bellatrix beamed as though he had just bought her a state-of-the-art broomstick.

"Cool," she said, in hushed tones. "How come you know stuff like that? My parents never let me find out about Dark Curses."

Severus shrugged.

"My parents are too busy fighting with each other to notice," he replied, in an offhand manner.

"I'm sorry," Bellatrix offered, quietly.

"It doesn't matter- I'm used to it by now," he said. "Anyway, it isn't like they've killed each other. Yet."

Bellatrix put her hands to her mouth in horror.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed.

"Really- it's not an issue. I just keep out of the way. Now and then, they find a way to drag me into it; but it's more difficult for them to do that now I'm older... Sorry- I try not to bore people with my life story," he said, with a nervous laugh. Bellatrix reached over and took his hand in hers.

"Do I look bored?" she asked. Severus smiled.

"You could be the world's best actress," he replied.

"Well, I'm not," she countered. "In fact, I'm a truly dreadful actress."

There was a brief lull in the conversation, before Bellatrix looked him in the eye and said, "You know, you could always come and stay with me, if it gets horrible with your parents again. It'd be fun- you could teach me how to do that cool spell that gashes peoples' faces open!"

"Well," Severus said, informatively, "the trick is in the wrist action. You just need to... Hang on- wouldn't this involve us being friends or something?"

Bellatrix shrugged.

"I'd rather hope so," she replied. "Wouldn't you?"

Severus smiled at her. I wish he'd smile more, actually- it makes him look so much nicer.

"Yeah, I think I would," he answered, looking right at her.

So, instead of making peace with Severus, I overheard his and Bellatrix's entire conversation, and felt too worried to do what I had set out to do in the first place. I felt a little affronted, to tell you the truth- he'd never talked to me about his parents...

"What are you reading, Harry?" Neville asked, affably. Harry shrugged.

"Nothing," he replied, hastily. "Just looking through some photographs..."

"Ooh, can I see?" Neville asked, cheerily. Harry pulled the diary to his chest.

"Oh, they're really not very interesting," he replied, shutting the diary and locking it away in his trunk. Neville looked at him kindly.

"If you say so," he replied.

Harry sighed. He had to stop reading his mother's diary. Without a doubt, it wove a pretty depressing tale- but he knew why he kept on reading. He wanted to see his mum and dad get together; he wanted to see that side of his father that everyone said was brave and good; the side that made his mother marry him; the side that made them want to bring him, Harry, into the world.

The side that had put Harry in the unenviable position of being the only one who could save said world from Voldemort.

The next day, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way to their old Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom for their Transfiguration lesson. Harry contented himself with listening to Ron and Hermione's debate over the mysterious gift Viktor Krum had sent Hermione and doing his best to ignore the wave of edginess that was currently occupying his mind. It was the prophecy, of course. Most of the time, he could bury it in the back of his mind and ignore it; however, he could not forget it, and today- whilst he was consuming his second slice of toast at breakfast- the worry had suddenly engulfed him. Attacks were happening, people were getting killed or hurt all over the country, Voldemort was on the rise, and yet Harry was safely ensconced at Hogwarts, away from all the danger. It seemed almost unfair to him, that he had access to all this security and all these methods of defending himself, whereas those Muggles who had been killed in Covent Garden had no way of protecting themselves...

"Ron, I don't understand what the problem is- he bought me a Christmas present, and I bought him one," Hermione said, in a voice close to impatience.

"There's no problem- I'm just concerned he might be after more than a Christmas present..."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows in bewilderment. Ron looked askance at her.

"Oh, come off it Hermione- you're not that naïve!"

Hermione blushed crimson.

"Absolutely not! Is that something you'd do, then?" she asked, folding her arms and staring hard at him. This time, it was Ron who flushed scarlet.

"I didn't mean that... I'm your mate! I'm looking out for you!" he protested, as they reached their Transfiguration class.

Harry mutely decided to sit between the two of them, although this didn't help much, for Hermione and Ron kept shooting furious glances at each other over the top of his head.

"Can't you two give it a rest?" he asked, wearily. "Ron, I'm sure Hermione knows what she's doing. Hermione... just ignore Ron."

Ron looked at Harry with a certain amount of indignation.

"Oh, cheers!" he said, sarcastically. Harry shrugged.

"Just trying to help," he replied, casually.

At that moment, Alex entered the classroom, and the gentle background noise of chattering students swiftly ground to a halt.

"Good morning, class," she announced. "Sorry I'm a little late. If you could all turn to page seventy-four in your textbooks, we'll begin the lesson from there."

She stood at her desk for a moment, before swiftly pulling out a chair from under her desk and sitting precariously upon it. Harry looked at her face, and thought her complexion was somewhat ashen.

"Right..." She focussed on her open textbook for a moment, then baulked. "Perhaps somebody else ought to read- Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked.

"Would you be so kind as to read the first two paragraphs of page seventy-four?" Alex asked. Hermione nodded, and cleared her throat.

"Okay, 'Encryption is a valuable technique for preserving sensitive documents, be it to conceal national intelligence, or merely a means to hide one's diary entries. The techniques to carry out such tasks are many and varied, depending upon numerous factors. There are five key variables that will determine which technique should be implemented- importance of the document, length of the document, age of the parchment, duration the document is to remain transfigured and..."

Suddenly, Alex lurched forward and ran out of the classroom. Harry couldn't tell exactly where she had gone, but he could definitely hear the sounds of her retching from where he was sitting. Judging by the concerned looks on the faces of his classmates, he wasn't the only one.

"What do you think is the matter?" Hermione asked, in concerned tones.

"It's probably listening to your voice, Granger," Draco commented. "It's enough to make anyone feel sick."

Ron looked furious, and was about to pipe up, except Susan Bones beat him to it.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy- you're not big and you're not clever!" she snapped, hotly. Draco glared at her, and looked as though he was about to say something in a retort, but then Alex re-entered the classroom, and Draco fell oddly quiet. Harry couldn't help but smile, for it was clear that Alex rather frightened him.

"Right; sorry about that," Alex said, as she gingerly sat down again, and stared at the class. Harry couldn't help but wonder what was wrong.

As Hermione's read-through had suggested, they were indeed studying Encryption today. Dean looked delighted about the fact, and Harry knew why- if he mastered this lesson, it meant he could replace the self-disguising betting book that Snape had confiscated from him last term, and had shown no signs of returning.

They each practised on a piece of parchment on which they had written their own secret messages. Hermione, naturally, managed to transfigure her message of 'Chocolate and ignorance both have their up-sides' to 'Transfiguration is fun' within a few minutes, and had swiftly moved onto transfiguring the writing in her textbook. Alex looked at her and gave her a small smile, which spoke volumes- as laid-back as Alex was during Order meetings; she rarely smiled whilst taking a class.

Suddenly, Harry felt something squishy hit the back of his neck. Tentatively feeling for whatever it was, he pulled at a tacky piece of parchment; presumably someone had used a Sticking Charm to attach it to his person. Harry prised the offending piece of parchment from his neck, whereupon it opened itself up in his hands. From the print of the words and the moving advertisement for 'Charmageddon: The ultimate in home security!' Harry could see that it had been torn from the Daily Prophet. It read 'You-Know-Who Strikes Again- Could The-Boy-Who-Lived be Next?' He looked around the classroom, but he knew who had done it even before Draco caught his eye and grinned smugly.

"You're going to get it, Potter," he whispered, maliciously. Harry felt so furious, he almost pointed his wand at Draco to fire off a retaliatory spell, except that Alex's cold voice stopped him.

"Mr. Potter, would you be so kind as to come to my desk? I'd like to see how you're progressing," she said. Harry looked up at her, and saw she appeared just as ashen as she has upon first entering the classroom.

"Of course, Professor," he replied, as he got up out of his chair and walked to her desk.

"Now then," she said, placing her textbook upon the desk, with the writing facing Harry. "I'd like you to change the words into an extract from Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet'- preferably one before they both die," she finished, with a wry smile. Harry smiled back, remembering Benjamin Sampson's words about her marriage to Snape. It was nice to know she at least had a sense of humour about the whole thing.

"Yes, Professor," he replied, and placed his wand above the first word of text. He had got as far as changing the line 'Encryption is a valuable technique for preserving sensitive documents...' for '...From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean', when Alex wiped her glistening forehead with the back of her hand.

"Are you alright, Professor?" he asked. Alex nodded.

"I'm fine, Mr...."

Suddenly, she gripped the handle of her desk drawer so hard, it snapped off in her hand. Harry watched in horror as her eyes widened and she fell to the floor. Harry quickly knelt down to assist her; it was then that he noticed she had begun to foam at the mouth. He looked around at Ron and Hermione, the latter of whom was one step ahead of him and was already rushing out of the classroom in search of a teacher. The rest of the class were whispering in worried tones, and craning their necks to get a closer look.

"Professor, are you okay?" Harry asked, helplessly, as Alex thrashed around on the floor. Eventually, she became still, and fixed Harry with a glassy stare.

"By the darkness of the ravished sun, the climax of the Dark Lord's evil will flourish. On that day, he will descend upon the innocent, and there will be no escaping his wrath. The lineage of the Snapes will finally be annihilated, and the youngest boy of the line- the child with a child- he will betray the Order of the Phoenix," she spat, raspily. Harry felt as though he was glued to the spot. He briefly remembered a similar scene in Trelawney's classroom a few years ago- but Alex had never mentioned she was a Seer. He couldn't really figure out what it all meant, except one thing seemed certain- the Snapes were going to die. Did that mean his sister, too? Harry felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room, then he calmed himself- she was formally a Beauchamp, after all.

Alex blinked, and looked around as though her surroundings were unfamiliar.

"Are you alright, Professor?" Harry asked, again. Alex pulled herself up into a sitting position.

"Yeah, I think so..." She clutched her stomach and pulled a face. "No, I'm not."

Harry hastily jumped back as Alex threw up unceremoniously upon the floor of her classroom.

"Sorry, Potter," Alex said, as she pulled herself up to her feet, raised her wand and quickly cleaned up the mess. She still looked rather shaky, so Harry offered her his arm to lean on.

"Thanks," she whispered. "What happened?"

"You went really strange. You collapsed and started foaming at the mouth, then you started speaking really oddly, about..."

"I can't have done," she replied, tersely. "I blacked out- I can't remember a thing, save for breaking my own desk, and even that's pretty fuzzy."

"You spoke to me. You told me the future," Harry insisted. Alex looked bewildered.

"I can't have done; I'm no Seer," she retorted.

At that point, Hermione came rushing through the doorway of the classroom, followed by Professor Sprout.

"There she is," Hermione said. Professor Sprout looked aghast.

"Dear me!" she exclaimed, rushing to aid Alex. "What in Merlin's name happened, Alexandra?"

Alex shrugged.

"Beats me," she replied. "Mr. Potter here says I prophesised... What did I prophesise?"

"Erm, it's not important," Harry answered, quickly. He didn't much fancy being the one to break the news to Alex that according to her prophecy, her husband was going to die. If the tribe of the Snapes was to be annihilated, Harry doubted that left out his Potions teacher.

"I didn't know you were a Seer, Alexandra," Professor Sprout commented. Alex laughed harshly.

"Neither did I," she replied. Professor Sprout frowned.

"Do you have any history of it in the family? Perhaps your mother or your grandmother?"

"My parents were dentists," Alex replied, "and if my grandmother had been able to tell the future, it would certainly have been unusual enough to make a regular after-dinner anecdote."

"Mr. Potter, kindly accompany me," Professor Sprout instructed. Harry asked no questions, and followed the two professors as they made their way out of the classroom. He took a look over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione, and noticed that Draco was staring slack jawed at Harry, Alex and Professor Sprout. So was Pansy Parkinson. Harry imagined that they had heard Alex's comment about her parents.

They soon made their way up to the stone gargoyle on the second floor that guarded the entrance to the Headmistress' office. Professor Sprout whispered the password, and the gargoyle parted, allowing them all access to the circular staircase to where Professor McGonagall now worked.

"Minerva, have you got a minute?" Professor Sprout asked through the doorway.

"I'm rather busy at the moment, Ponoma," she replied. "Sybill has had a rare visitation from the Inner Eye, it would seem..."

"Well, she's not the only one," Harry interrupted, suddenly. McGonagall looked at him, apparently startled by his sudden outburst.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Apparently, I told Mr. Potter a little story in the middle of my class today," Alex replied, weakly. McGonagall took one look at her and swiftly conjured a chair.

"Here, sit down- you look dreadful," she exclaimed. Alex managed a laugh.

"Yeah, thanks!" she replied, gingerly sitting down. McGonagall conjured another chair, and gestured for Harry to sit with them.

"Ponoma, could you send the witch from the DoM to me? She will be waiting in the Atrium, I'd imagine," McGonagall asked. Professor Sprout nodded.

"Certainly, Minerva," she replied, before exiting the office.

Harry looked past the peaky looking Alex and noticed that Professor Trelawney was also seated in the room, along with a frightened-looking Parvati, who caught his eye.

"I just went to ask Professor Trelawney for help with the Divination work Firenze had set," she explained, shakily. "Then she started to speak in this really odd voice..."

"Same here," Harry replied, gesturing towards Alex. Trelawney's curiosity seemed to pique at this remark.

"Really, Alex? I had no idea you were as Gifted as I," she exclaimed, dramatically. Alex raised an eyebrow at her.

"If you're a Seer, I would have thought you'd known ages ago," she commented, dryly, and it was all Harry could do to stop himself from laughing. Trelawney seemed to miss this rather pointed barb, however.

"How often have you been guided by the Inner Eye, my dear?" she asked. Alex looked at her.

"I'm not guided by the Inner Eye. It just must have been a coincidence," she explained. "Trust me, this has never happened to me before."

Trelawney gazed at Alex in a knowing fashion.

"Ahh; you see, my child, one does not necessarily have to be born with the Sight. Many, ahem, 'womanly changes' can bring about a manifestation of the Gift," she explained, in her typical ethereal voice.

"You what?" Alex asked, sharply. Trelawney continued to smile in that maddening way.

"Womanly changes. We are indeed far more complex than our fellow, earthy wizard-folk. Menstruation, for one, often triggers a young girl's first vision. However, in your case, I should imagine it is something far more beautiful," she explained. Alex glared at her as though she had just gone mad.

"Erm, no," she replied, emphatically. "Absolutely not!"

Trelawney merely continued to smile.

"If you say so," she replied, wistfully.

At that point, McGonagall's office door opened, and in walked Professor Sprout, followed by a familiar looking witch and wizard, whom Harry recognised as members of the Order of the Phoenix. Kingsley Shacklebolt gave Harry a surreptitious wink, whereas Emmaline Vance merely glanced around as though she didn't recognise anybody present.

"Good morning. My name is Emmeline Vance, and I am here as the official Prophecy Recorder for the Ministry of Magic," she explained, calmly, looking at where Harry and Parvati were sitting. "Now, which of you two heard the prophecy?"

Harry and Parvati looked at each other.

"Well, both of us," Harry answered. "Except we heard them from different people."

Emmeline Vance looked surprised only briefly, before she placed her large bag on McGonagall's desk and pulled out her wand, as well as a shimmering flat disc that looked as though it had been made out of liquid mercury.

"Right," she said, briskly. "Who's to go first?"

McGonagall gestured towards Parvati and Trelawney.

"They have been waiting rather a while, and I think Professor Ridley here could do with a breather first," she replied. Emmeline Vance appraised Alex with a brief glance.

"Yes, she does look rather peaky, don't you, dear?" she commented. Alex said nothing in reply; Harry suspected by the way she deliberately kept her head still that she was feeling nauseous again.

"Do you need a hand, Ms. Vance?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked, genially. Emmaline shook her head.

"Not yet, thank you, Mr. Shacklebolt. However, I would like you to remain until I have completed both recordings, in case of any... unusual findings," she explained, carefully, before turning her attention to Parvati.

"Now then, miss, what's your name?" she asked.

"Parvati Patil, Madam," Parvati replied, nervously. Emmeline smiled kindly at her.

"There's no need to be nervous, Miss Patil. The process of prophecy recording nowadays is entirely pain-free..."

Harry looked at Parvati's expression, and noticed that she didn't look particularly soothed by Emmaline Vance's words. Emmeline paid no attention, as she sat on a chair that McGonagall swiftly conjured up for her, and held out the shimmering disc in the palm of her hand before facing Trelawney.

"Miss..." Emmeline began, but was interrupted by Professor Trelawney

"Professor Trelawney," the teacher replied, in her usual wraithlike voice.

"Professor Trelawney, could you hold this for me?" she asked. Trelawney did as she was told. Emmeline looked critically at the disc, occasionally shifting its position in Trelawney's hand, before finally appearing satisfied.

"Right, Miss Patil- could you just concentrate on what Professor Trelawney prophesised to you. There's no need to say anything, just concentrate on her words..."

Harry watched as Parvati screwed up her face in concentration. Emmeline Vance softly tapped her wand against Parvati's right temple, until a shimmering pearly substance appeared, attaching itself to Emmeline's wand. She removed it from Parvati's temple and tapped her wand against the flat disc, whereupon the pearly material dropped into the disc, sending ripples across the surface. Emmeline frowned.

"Right then, Miss. Patil. Could you now watch the disc and tell me if what you see is what you heard your professor say," she instructed. Parvati gazed at the disc, which, upon another tap of Emmeline's wand, began to ripple violently, before swirling as though somebody had pulled out a plug from its base.

Suddenly, a small, ghost-like vision of Professor Trelawney appeared through the disc, floating up into the air and hovering about the now brightly glowing disc.

"By the darkness of the ravished sun, the climax of the Dark Lord's evil will flourish. On that day, he will descend upon the innocent, and there will be no escaping his wrath. The lineage of the Snapes will finally be annihilated, and the youngest boy of the line- the child with a child- he will betray the Order of the Phoenix," the ghostly figure announced, in harsh tones that Harry had only heard Trelawney use twice before- and one of those times was in Dumbledore's Pensieve.

Trelawney looked stunned and bewildered by her own image pronouncing such words. Parvati merely nodded to Emmeline Vance.

"Yes, that's what I heard," she confirmed. Harry chanced a brief look at Alex, who, besides having bunched her hands into fists, looked remarkably passive. He dreaded to think how she would react when she found out Harry had heard the same prophecy from her own lips.

McGonagall, whom Harry noticed had gone very pale indeed, looked at Alex with concern.

"Are you..." she began to whisper, but Alex cut her off immediately.

"I'm fine," she hissed, through clenched teeth.

Emmeline, meanwhile, had pointed her wand at the flat disc, and Harry watched as it folded in on itself, before ballooning up into what looked like one of the glowing glass spheres he had seen lining the shelves of the Department of Mysteries.

"Is Parvati Patil your full name?" Emmeline Vance asked. Parvati nodded.

"And Professor Trelawney? Your full name, please?" Emmeline asked again. Trelawney smiled.

"Sybill Patricia Trelawney," she replied, wistfully. Emmeline's wand burned the following words into the glass ball:

07/01/1998

S.P.T. to P.P.

Dark Lord, Snapes (Tribe), (?) and Order of the Phoenix

Shortly after, it was Harry's turn to undergo the exact same procedure. Emmeline's method of retrieving the memory of the prophecy he had heard really was painless- in fact, Harry felt a sort of pleasant lift as it dropped into the flat disc and was formed into a brightly glowing ball. He could still remember Alex's words though, and apparently so could Alex, for her horrified expression upon witnessing her prophecy did not diminish.

"Right, could I have your full name, Mr. Potter?" Emmeline asked. Harry nodded.

"Harry James Potter," he replied. Emmeline looked at Alex as though she were trying to steal a slab of meat from a particularly grumpy wild tiger.

"Could I..."

"Alexandra Josephine Ridley," she interrupted, numbly.

As Emmeline burned their initials and the contents of the prophecy onto the surface of the glass ball, Harry noticed Kingsley Shacklebolt discreetly take Trelawney and Parvati out of McGonagall's office. Judging by the flash he saw escape through the glass of the closed door, he assumed that Shacklebolt had modified their memories, and wiped any memory of the prophecy from their minds.

McGonagall sat at her desk, and rested her forehead on her hand. Emmeline looked across at her.

"Minerva, I don't suppose you know anything about the Snapes?" she asked. McGonagall shook her head.

"Very little, I'm afraid. You could..." She stopped herself. "I'm afraid I don't know a great deal about their history. What did you wish to know?"

"The youngest boy- the 'child with a child'. I could do with knowing who that might be- we could do with knowing who that might be," Emmeline replied. McGonagall sighed.

"Yes, wouldn't we all?" she replied. "I suppose you could ask Severus; though he rarely talks about his family, so you..."

"He wouldn't know," Alex interrupted, sharply.

"Well, we don't know that unless we ask him," McGonagall pointed out. Alex ignored her and looked straight at Emmeline.

"We can't help you, I'm afraid," she insisted, her tone of voice making it clear that, for her, the subject was closed. Emmeline seemed to take the none-too-subtle hint, and closed her bag with a snap.

"Well, you know where I am if you come up with any ideas," she replied, before making her way out of the office to find Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Alex sighed and buried her face in her hands. McGonagall rushed over to her side.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "Do you need a bucket...?"

"It's Severus," Alex said, quietly. McGonagall laughed softly.

"Well, I know he can be a pain, but really..."

"The child with a child- it's Severus," Alex repeated, albeit more loudly. McGonagall stared at her.

"Excuse me?" she asked, hollowly. Alex sighed and looked up at her.

"I know a bit about Severus' tribe, the Snapes as they exist today. Severus has the ignominy of being the only male the tribe have produced in forty years. His uncle has begot children with about four different women in an attempt to introduce some males into the line, and he's only managed to produce girls. Of course, when they marry, they lose the family name, which I gather is a bit irksome for the man," she explained, quietly. McGonagall swiftly sat down on one of the nearby chairs she had yet to tidy away.

"Oh," she said, hoarsely. Alex nodded.

"Plus, he did have a child at fifteen- that kind of fits in with the 'child with a child' theory," she added.

"We need to tell Emmeline..."

"We tell Emmeline nothing!" Alex retorted, sharply. McGonagall looked astounded.

"Alex, this is serious!" she exclaimed. Alex stood up angrily.

"Yeah, I'd gathered," she spat back. "My husband has been pronounced a traitor, and it came from my own lips! Not to mention Sybill's as well!"

McGonagall looked sympathetic, but firm.

"We need to discuss this with the Order," she insisted. Alex looked at her.

"Does that include Severus?" she enquired, aggressively. McGonagall sighed.

"I really don't know," she replied, wearily. Alex put her hands on her hips and exhaled loudly.

"What about Persephone?" Harry asked, nervously. Alex looked at him in bewilderment at first, until she apparently cottoned on, for her expression swiftly changed to one of abject horror.

"I mean, she's a Beauchamp, isn't she?" Harry continued, hoping that by repeating the sentiment he had been thinking all morning would make it true. Alex shook her head.

"It's not about names and legalities," she replied harshly, "it's about blood. As far as this prophecy goes, she's a Snape- and apparently as good as dead."

Harry thought about this for a moment.

"But, she is dead- technically," he reasoned, in the vain hope that it would render the prophecy inaccurate, but Alex merely glared at him.

"Don't start with that. It makes my brain hurt enough as it is," she replied, sternly.

McGonagall looked across at her.

"Please, Alex. I know I've been less than supportive concerning you and Severus, but I never wanted this..."

"I've got classes to teach," Alex interrupted, sharply. "I'll see you later."

And with those words, she swept out of McGonagall's office, leaving the Headmistress looking stunned, and Harry feeling very concerned indeed.