Harry Potter and His New Standards

A/N: Watch out for the plot bunnies--they're big, fat, and rabid.

I've just finished the conversion of a computer change... and it slowed my writing a lot. I'm really, really sorry for the super-long wait, but the WordPad / Microsoft Works / Microsoft Word programs on the old "family computer", the new "family computer", and my laptop (no internet connection on that one) refuse to convert... so I had to rewrite and proof the entire chapter--which was pretty long in the first place. Thanks for being patient! The writing should start to come a bit faster, as winter sports are done here!

THANK YOU to reviewers: neha_dkulkarni, infratuatedemma, hermione512, JeaniyTheScienceGuy, Eerie, Melissa Wood, Ann, SlowFox, yohannayork, Hermoninny, peach brandy, Ophira, FirePheonix, wrenbirdy, Srox4690, Sparkles, eloisamuggle, Kilkieran, NecessaryEvil, MadAboutHarry, Katie Weasley, Phire Freak, Kenshin42, Lilia, gilaesther, Gryffinpuff, and Aarmen Bloodmoon.

This chapter will be for Brian "Gus"... the real #23! Thanks for taking the team as far as you did; I'll miss you next year! And don't cut your hair any shorter than it is--wings are the only look for you. XOXO

R/R!

*()%()*

Chapter 23 - Midnight Missions

The first step towards vice is to shroud innocent actions in mystery, and whoever likes to conceal something sooner or later has reason to conceal it.

*()%()*

They both fell. After an uncomfortable and not-so-choreographed endeavor to release himself without breaking Snape's nose (and upon thinking back, he shouldn't have wasted his energy), Harry managed to extricate himself from the many unpleasant tangles of Snape and stand on his feet, panting slightly. He was thinking about tearing off down the passage and to the Gryffindor tower, but found running away pointless, seeing that Snape was staring up at him with Harry's Invisibility Cloak in his hands.

"What are you doing out of your dormitory at this hour?" Snape hissed, struggling to his feet with Harry's cloak clutched in a fist. His voice wasn't quite as oily smooth and full of malice as it would be on any other occasion, but more on the note of shocked panic. But of this Harry took little notice.

"Trying to get back to my common room," he stated truthfully. He remembered that someone once told him that if you want to be let off the hook when in a tight spot with a teacher who hates you, don't glaze your eyes over and try to look as innocent, honest, and emotionally hurt as possible. Just act like you have nothing to hide and you don't care if they're going to take ninety points away from Gryffindor. Sometimes detention is the better way to go.

Words from the most experienced and wise... must've come from Fred or George.

Snape looked dubious, regaining some of his composure. "With this on?" He lifted the cloak slightly, as though Harry didn't notice he was holding it in front of his nose already. "It seems you didn't want to be seen."

Harry shrugged--trying to do his best in putting on the "Careless!" show. There was no point in asking why Snape supposed Harry wouldn't want to be seen. "Does it make a difference?"

"I'm not one to believe that those pure of conscience would desire to be invisible," Snape said. "This should have been confiscated a long time ago." He folded the cloak over a few times and tucked it into the bag that was slung over his shoulder. Harry fought back from lunging forward and grabbing it, but was very aware of the dispirited look contorting his features. "Come with me, Potter."

Snape turned and started down the stairs, and Harry followed, his heartbeat slowing down not near enough. He put his hands in his pockets and felt the miniaturized text of Impigergra Veneficus, the parchment slip that Hermione had written on, and the Marauder's Map (still activated). He fingered his wand in his other pocket, thinking that if he followed Snape all the way to his office that he would probably have him empty his pockets straight off. Snape was lax on his grudge-based discipline tonight (or, more likely, jumpy about something), and Harry was allowed to lag behind. He could clear the map, shrink the book some more, and hide them in the pocket inside his robes.

Dobby had been so good as to do this for Harry when taking his laundry one day the year before. It was in an expression of his idolizing of Harry that Dobby did this. The house-elf used charmed fabric to sew in an extra pocket, so the only one who could see the pocket and its contents was Harry. Harry still wore that pair now and then, because the robes he had purchased the year before weren't too short quite yet. He checked the inside of his robes, but they weren't the pair.

He sighed, cleared the Marauder's Map with a whisper and shrunk Impigergra Veneficus to the size of his thumbnail. He tucked them and the slip of parchment with the book title on it (now crumpled up) into the back pocket of his trousers and caught up with Snape, walking silently behind him.

As they passed through a hidden hallway he had only used once since gaining the Map (and a lot of Hogwarts' secrets along with it) that was leading in the direction of the entrance hall, Harry took closer notice of Snape and his articles. He was wearing a black, somewhat weather-beaten traveling cloak, and from the hem up to his knees it looked like it had been drug through much snow and mud. Other than that, it seemed sleek and well kept before this last expedition.

The bag over his shoulder was bulging with objects other than the mass of Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Harry wondered vaguely what they might be, and put a few Galleons on that they were a bunch of potion jars and vials along with some new and increasingly more foul ingredients. But Snape wouldn't be skipping work just to purchase things from the nearest magical apothecary (Hogsmeade, presumably), would he?

Had he been with the Death Eaters? Or perhaps Voldemort himself?

Harry had the impulse to use Diffindo to rip open Snape's bag, but decided against it because either he would see something he didn't want to, or Snape would round on him and guess correctly at the real reason his bag ripped. Or both. Either way it would end with some form of gruesome punishment.

But, before he knew it, he had followed Snape into his dungeon office and was asked (demanded) to sit down in front of the Potions master's desk.

*()%()*

Hermione paced around the common room, asking Ron (who was staring at her with a blank look on his face) for the time about every thirty seconds. She maintained that Harry should have been back by then and was in trouble, but Ron insisted that Harry probably couldn't find the 'I' section. He doubted this, though, because Harry had every shortcut in the school memorized and had the Marauder's Map with him--which meant that he could, pretty much, sense oncoming trouble if it were half a mile away. And if a prefect had caught him, he'd simply be marched back to the common room with no more than thirty points from Gryffindor, right? Unless of course the prefect went to get a teacher...

"You're making me nervous... why don't you go and check if Holly wants to come down so that when he returns with the book she can be in on this too?" It wasn't a very Ron-like suggestion, but anything to distract Hermione was good right then.

"No, no I want to be down here when he comes," Hermione answered quickly, "It's a good idea though. You get her." Ron flinched, but then figured that Holly would sleeping, so trying to convince her that coming down to the common room to wait for Harry and a book wouldn't be necessary.

"Er, alright," he agreed with a small nod. Ron stood and started up the staircase to the girls' dormitories. He reached the top of the spiraling steps and looked at the dark, oak door that opened into the sixth years' room for a moment before knocking, turning the handle, and pushing it forward.

Inside it was shadowy, the only illuminant was from two lanterns. One was on the floor, in between Parvati and Lavender who were sitting there in their nightshirts, the other on Holly's bedside table. She was sitting in her bed, with her knees drawn up, writing on something resting against them. So she wasn't asleep. All three girls looked up as he entered. "Hi, Ron. Who are you looking for?" Lavender asked brightly. Parvati was twisting Lavender's blonde hair into minute braids, using Sleekeazy's Finishing Spray after completing each one.

"Er--Holly, actually." Holly looked up from her lap (she'd been the first to avert her eyes after he came in) with a glance that was probably supposed to be innocently curious, but just came off as suspicious. Ron glanced down at Parvati and Lavender before moving over to Holly's open-curtained four-poster. Immediately Lavender whispered something to Parvati, and Parvati replied in an equally soft voice. He didn't pay attention to what they were saying, although the way they kept glancing towards him and then murmuring something made him a bit queasy. Ron wasn't positive how much they knew--but was sure that rumors may begin to spark after this, whether his actions were simple or no.

Holly snapped the little, neon-orange book she was holding shut and tilted her head back to look up at him. "Will you come down to the common room with me?" he asked quietly, standing at her bedside and looking down at the sphinx-like features Holly possessed.

He and Dean had come to this conclusion one day when flipping through The Monster Book of Monsters during a more uneventful session of Care of Magical Creatures. They'd looked from the picture in the book to Holly and back again several times (getting a couple funny, questioning sort of glances in return), deeming that to officially be a sphinx's head stuck on a human body--she needed longer eyes.

But Parvati (and Padma) had longer eye--which threw them into an odd crossbreeding sort of conversation which they stopped abruptly when they found both Gryffindor girls starting at them.

"Huh?" she responded blankly. Ron wasn't sure whether she didn't hear him or didn't believe what she was hearing, as Holly never seemed to make that clear.

He glanced back at Parvati and Lavender who had looked away, but were still whispering ominously, before sitting down on the edge of Holly's mattress. At this she looked completely baffled, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

"Hermione wants you down in the common room," he muttered to nothing but a blank face from Holly and a momentary silence.

"Is she having a baby or something-?" she responded.

"Not quite," Ron answered.

"-because last time she called on my assistance was... wow I don't remember..." Holly continued, looking upwards whilst racking her memory.

"Euh--well you know that little mission Hermione sent Harry on?"

Ron wasn't given time to finish because Holly quickly growled that she "ain't doin' nothin' for somebody who can't carry out an excursion for themselves." After he had comprehended what she said through the bad grammar, he continued.

"That's not it," he said, "Harry's not back yet, but she wants you in the common room for when he is--because we were thinking you'll want to see what that book has to tell us about that Ministry woman's death."

"Oh." There was a pause when neither of them made a sound, Ron watched her and waited for a straight answer and she looked somewhere on the other side of the bed.

"Well?" he prompted.

"What?"

"Will you come down there, then?" Holly tapped her fingers on her knee for a second before agreeing to it. Ron stood up, Holly slid out from under the covers and rubbed her bare arms (opposed to nightshirts, she wore pajama pants and some variation of a short sleeve or sleeveless tee). She grabbed a sweater that was lying across her trunk (blue) and pulled it on over her head. Pulling her hair out from under the shirt, Holly opened the door. They walked out of the dormitory together and started down the stairs, Ron dreading what stories Lavender and Parvati were coming up with, for he hadn't made a point to speak loudly while saying that Hermione wanted her down there.

*()%()*

Harry had to fight hard against gnawing down his fingernails, or doing anything that made him look nervous, for Snape was eyeing him intently. He had hung up his traveling cloak and pulled Harry's Invisibility Cloak out of his bag (Harry still hadn't seen what else was in there). "Why, Potter, were you sneaking around under this after hours?" he asked, pushing the cloak across the desk toward him.

Excuse, excuse, excuse... Harry thought frantically. "I've been down to see Hagrid," he stated. So doing that would still be considered breaking the rules, but there was no way he could make it look like he hadn't been out of Gryffindor tower that night.

"Had you?" said Snape, and Harry nodded confirmation. "You're perfectly aware, Potter, that being on the grounds or anywhere out of your common room and dormitory at night is breaking school rules, are you not?"

Harry took a deep breath, preparing to improvise. "I am, Professor, but I wasn't able to see Hagrid all day, and I really needed to talk to him, and I-"

"And it was something of such prominent importance it couldn't wait until the morning?" Snape interrupted. His eyes were black and cold as always, filled with one of the only emotions Harry had ever seen expressed on Snape's face--relatively calm hatred. But, it was only just 'relatively'. There was definitely something up with Snape tonight... he was edgy, and his eyes kept darting towards the door when he thought Harry wasn't watching. But, nevertheless, he stared the student down, and somehow Harry managed to keep eye contact with his greasy-haired nemesis while he spoke.

"Yes, sir."

"About what?" he snarled incredulously.

Really there wasn't much important to discuss with Hagrid. He supposed he could say he spoke to him about Care of Magical Creatures, or maybe activity in the Forbidden Forest... even Madame Maxime if necessary, but none of this would cut it for Snape. "I don't think it's your place to nose into my business," he said as nonchalantly as possible. A nerve in Snape's temple twitched.

More than clearly agitated, he responded, "I'm a professor, it's my job to nose into your business."

Harry braced himself before adding his thought on that comment. "Sorry, Professor, but I believe it's your job to teach."

Cracking, Snape slammed his fist down on his desk, and Harry--not really expecting this--jolted. "How dare you tell me what my place is at this school, Potter?" he spat, "You have no respect for those who don't lick your shoes clean and worship the ground that-"

He was cut short by a sharp knock on the door. "Enter," Snape said vehemently, throwing Harry a last infuriated glance before looking up at the door. Harry turned to face it as well, and received a mild shock as the door opened to reveal Lucius Malfoy. He was wearing a sleek black cloak, fastened with a silver clasp carved in the shape of a snake. A gloved hand was grasping the handle of a coal-dark staff.

The elder Malfoy said nothing at first, but looked at Harry with an indifferent sort of malice in his pale gray eyes, and each second suddenly seemed to lengthen. It was creepy, but Harry sensed something much more than then the normal I-am-a-Death-Eater-and-I-hate-Harry-Potter-all-the-time air about him. It was nearly like he wanted to pull out his wand and Avada Kedavra him on the spot as though he had ruined some grand plan of his, or... something... and in apprehensive suspicion the hairs on the back of Harry's neck started prickling. "Severus, could I have a word?" Lucius drawled, finally tearing his eyes away from Harry.

Snape looked at Harry for a moment, in a conquered sort of ill will. "You may, Malfoy," he said, not looking away from Harry. "Go, Potter," he muttered angrily, "I won't deduct house points this time. Although I'll be arranging for a detention later, when I have time to think about fair punishment." One thing Snape didn't hand out to Gryffindor students, Harry especially, was anything along the lines of 'fair'. So, the phrase "fair punishment" coming out of Snape's mouth and you believing the rest of his statement is like thinking it perfectly normal to see Fudge doing cartwheels whilst singing "It's a Small World".

"But my cloak-"

"I will be keeping this, and speaking to Professor Dumbledore about your uncensored permission to use it. Leave. Now!" Harry wished to scramble frantically out of his seat and streak nervously past Malfoy, but wanting to look brave like his Gryffindor title claimed, he casually stood then walked around Lucius, and out of Snape's office.

He didn't take time to realize his luck at getting out of this without detention or subtraction of house points, because his mind was focused on what Lucius Malfoy was doing in Hogwarts.

He had been fired from his position as school governor long ago, and if the matter he was there to discuss had to do with the school system he would have come sometime during the day, and spoke with Dumbledore--not Snape. Harry doubted that he was there to tell Snape that Draco wasn't getting good marks, or should be Quidditch captain, or that he was being unfairly treated by his Head of House--because Draco was favored in every way as far as Slytherin went, had something along the lines of 106% in Potions, and already was Quidditch captain.

Was he there to talk about Voldemort-related issues? Probably. But eavesdropping wouldn't be smart, considering that he was already in trouble.

Detention. Meh, who cares?

After that passed through his head, he thought dispiritedly about his Invisibility Cloak. Was it being confiscated, or was Snape just going to try and persuade Dumbledore to keep it from Harry until he graduated... maybe ban Invisibility Cloaks period? Then again, they were probably already banned. Harry sighed, feeling at a loss there.

But... he pulled the Marauder's Map and Impigergra Veneficus out of his back pocket... the Potions master was now two steps behind. Harry won more land with this battle than Snape knew. He continued walking through the deserted dungeon passage, got to a corridor in between this passage's exit and the entrance to the next one, told a couple prefects that he had just been to see Snape ("-and if you don't believe me, pull out the Veritaserum and drag me to his office.") and taking the passage he had been in just minutes earlier back in the direction of the fourth-floor corridor, and then into the other staircase-occupied hallway secret that led up to the seventh floor.

After reaching the top of the stairs, Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak clasp that was lying on the floor (deactivated) and slid under the hole in the wall. He awoke the Fat Lady with fervent apologies as she started to squawk heatedly at him and gave her the password, then entered the mostly-empty common room to see Hermione pacing, Ron sitting on the sofa, and Holly in an armchair.

"I just had a very interesting little adventure," he stated.

*()%()*

"Harry!" Hermione burst, jumping (literally) at the sound of his voice. Ron made a shushing noise, and Hermione immediately began to speak in a lower tone. "Harry, where have you been?"

Ron had stood up from his place on the sofa and walked over next to Hermione, leaning casually against the table. Holly looked up and waited a moment before making her way to the table and standing beside it, a few feet from the other two. Harry looked around at them, took a deep breath, and began to tell his story.

The three of his friends seemed pretty ecstatic about Mrs. Norris' little accident and each wished for a different amount of damage. Hermione wanted the cat to have injured her leg or paw to the point it couldn't be cured easily--she was always in her way; Holly was hoping that Mrs. Norris had lost both of her back legs, so she had to pull herself along on a little board (with wheels attached) by her front legs; and Ron was lobbying that Filch's dear pet had slowly bled to death on the Restricted Section floor.

When Harry explained his excuse that had been given to Snape, Holly interjected, "But, in that case, wouldn't Hagrid have walked you back to the common room? I mean, that would have gotten you out of trouble...."

Harry frowned slightly. "Good point. Well, maybe I could've told him that I could make it from the fourth floor, because there's never anyone in that passage, and then that's where I met Snape."

"Concluding that there can be people in that passage," finished Ron in his best game show host voice. Hermione snickered quietly, and a grin flitted across Holly's face before she rolled her eyes maturely.

Harry continued on with his story, and being interrupted shortly after when he got to the part about Malfoy wanting to speak with Snape. "Lucius Malfoy?" Ron blurted to a nod of confirmation from Harry, "The Lucius Malfoy? The pale, pointed, cunning, and merciless Lu-"

"Yes, Ron!" Hermione snapped impatiently. She glared at him for a second, with that I'm-trying-to-learn-something-crucial-to-my-future-witching-career sort of look before turning back so her eyes were on Harry, flicking a stray section of hair out of her face.

Holly had moved from standing next to the table Ron and Hermione were at to another round table near it. Sitting right in the middle of it with her legs crossed in a pretzel shape, she asked, "Why would he want to talk to Snape? Tell him he was in the running for some contest he's sponsoring?" She snorted. "Nastiest Wizard of the Year, for example..."

"No--about Death Eater affairs, more likely," Harry said. Holly shrugged and leaned forward; hands folded in her lap.

"Death Eater affairs?" repeated Ron, "So Snape's officially spying for our side right now?"

Harry nodded. "Quite sure." There was a moment in which no-one spoke and, instead, commenced in a few thoughtful habits. As for Harry--he looked at his feet, running his hand up and down the back of his head, ruffling his hair.

"Our side." The words stood out to him, now, more than ever. "Our side." His world was waging on war, and he wished he could forget.

Hermione was first to break the silence, "You said that Snape--Snape wasn't there the night... the night in June back in fourth year?"

"Er--no... no he wasn't," he replied, thinking back to that night with a small shock of pain. "Kill the spare."

"And You-Know-Who said that there was one Death Eater who he thought had left them forever... and he was to be killed?" Harry thought back again, and nodded.

"Yeah, I think that's how it went. I was pretty sure that that Death Eater was Snape, too, but..." he trailed off.

"Most likely it was," Hermione continued, "wouldn't Lucius have known, or at least figured out by now, that Snape was a spy?" Harry thought about this for a moment, but shook his head. He preferred the non-verbal answers as far as things related to Voldemort go, but with knowledge-hungry folk like Hermione, this wasn't acceptable.

"Snape left that night some time after Fudge came into the hospital wing following when Crouch received the Kiss. He may have gone to join them then, with a plausible excuse," he explained. "So he probably managed to get by with a 'Sorry I'm late'." Holly looked like she was holding onto the content of this conversations by a couple of very thin strings.

On the other hand, Ron seemed to be getting all of it. "So do you think Malfoy and Snape had just come from the same place? A sort of... Death Eater Convention or something?" He rubbed the side of his face.

"Yeah, I s'pose that's the case, although Snape looked a little more grubby and worn than Malfoy," Harry agreed.

"Pro'ly 'cause Lucius washes his hair," Holly put in wisely, "and has money enough to own a... good magical cloak. Anyway--what about punishment? You haven't told us that part yet."

"Detention and no Invisibility Cloak, currently." All three of his compeer's mouths dropped wide open. Harry wondered why they hadn't noticed he didn't have it already.

"He took-?!"

"You'll never get it back!"

"Now Filch is going to blame everything on you-"

"He'll know you were in the Restricted Section!" There was a shocked pause when Harry realized that these would definitely be some theories that would develop from Snape having his cloak. The loss of many House points preceding the assumptions.

"But not if he ain't got proof," Holly muttered. They looked around at her, and she slipped off the table with as much grace as she was allowed. "I'll go back and get the cloak." The usual command-like exclamations followed, jumbled together as no one bothered to wait for the person near them to stop speaking.

"You can't!"

"He'll know it was you!"

"Not if he ain't got proof!" she repeated, but louder this time. "And he'll think it was Harry anyway." No one said anything for a moment before Holly sighed and stated, "Okay, the second person he'd think of is me. So what?!"

"Holly," Harry began, "You don't have to. He and Malfoy are still in there..."

"I'm gonna!" she hissed, and Harry sighed in exasperation. "Look, I'll take the map..." she held out her hand, "Give it." Harry pulled the Marauder's Map back out of his pocket and reluctantly handed it to her. She activated it (why she had her wand with her was a mystery to him) and looked only briefly down at the moving dots on the parchment. "You three can hold off on talking about Snape and Malfoy Senior and find whatever the hell Hermione needed to know in that book."

He resolved that instead of trying to convince Holly that she'd be in huge trouble, if caught, he handed her the Invisibility Cloak clasp and showed her which passages to take to get to the dungeons without being caught, and advised her to never take her eyes off the map unless she heard something ominous and unlabeled.

"Okay, okay," said Holly as Hermione took Impigergra Veneficus and restored it back to its original size, "I might find out somethin' good, y'know."

"Don't walk in there when Malfoy and Snape are still hanging around," Hermione informed her as she delicately sat the huge volume down on the table as though it were the original blueprints for Hogwarts.

"I'm not a dumb-ass, who'd do that? Pfff..." Holly responded, shaking her head.

Ron looked as though he were about to claim "You would," but decided against it when imagining Holly's reaction. Instead he suggested, "Snatch up anything else that looks good, then. If you could get me some Billywig stings, that'd be nice. I'm thinking about becoming a drug-dealer. I could sell those raw."

Somewhere deep in his memory Harry remembered that dried Billywig stings were thought to be one of the ingredients in the potion used to make Fizzing Whizbees, which either came from Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them or one of Hagrid's less action-packed classes. Snape, teaching Potions or no, would never discuss such irrelevant matters in class when there were Longbottoms to torture and points to be taken from Gryffindor!

Holly fought her more customary wide-mouthed smile down into a subtle grin and nodded to them. "Read hard. I'll be back in a bit." She dropped Harry's clasp into her pocket and slipped her wand in between her hip and her tie-in-front bed-wear. She turned her back on last condolence-like pieces of advice from them such as "breathe quiet" and "tip toe'" (whereas Holly would more customarily pad-foot her way, due to heredity), before disappearing around the corner and through the portrait hole.

*()%()*

After the sound of the closing portrait door reached their ears, Ron sighed. "She is so stupid." They moved around one of the round tables and sat in the wooden chairs. Next they pulled themselves into the customary Mystery-Solving Trio position (three chairs pulled very close together; Hermione in the middle, bent over a book; Ron and Harry on either side, watching her closely).

Hermione opened Impigergra Veneficus and looked at the glossary. "Running around outside of the common room at this time of night is stupid, but getting back Harry's cloak is probably the best thing to do... whether it be disobeying school conduct or not."

Harry watched her as she straightened and sleek brunette locks fell down in front of her shoulders, slightly rough-cut tips resting on the stained parchment that made up Impigergra Veneficus. She was such a prefect. "What do you mean?" he asked.

She glanced over at him. "Better Snape deciding which person stole it than it being in his possession, ready to be shown to Dumbledore and Filch. I know Professor Dumbledore gave you that cloak, knowing it'd be used to sneak yourself around all sorts of regulations and restrictions," she stated somewhat haughtily, "but he'd still keep it from you, at least for a few months. Filch, on the other hand, would accuse you of every bout of unpunished rule-breaking to date, and you'd still be serving detention at fifty-two." This was probably true.

"And if Holly is caught?" said Ron.

Hermione started flipping pages. "Either both she and Harry will be punished, or she'll think up a convincing but embarrassing excuse on her part. She'll just be in trouble for sneaking around. Unless she has the cloak, of course. Snape will still suspect her, but innocent until proven guilty, right?" Ron and Harry exchanged glances.

"If Dumbledore caught her, maybe. But this is Snape we're talking about. Unless it has to do with Slytherins, it's "guilty until proven innocent", remember?" Ron reminded them. The three Gryffindors shared a sigh. "He's like the French Ministry in that way--but bias and, overall, worse."

"Just get working on what that book has to tell us, Hermione," Harry told her. She nodded and continued to look for the desired page.

*()%()*

Meanwhile, Holly sneaked past the Gryffindor prefect and into the passage where Harry had run into Snape. Checking the map and seeing no one in the passage except for a dot that proclaimed Holly Black was there, she hurried through the hallway, down the spiraling stairs, and through the passage that led to the seemingly solid brick wall. Being shoeless and wearing no socks, her feet were freezing, and somehow making her whole body cold.

She looked at the map again. There were two prefects in the corridor that she had to go through to get to the second passage, which, according to the map, led straight to the dungeons. The prefects were moving back and forth, against the either corridor wall it looked. Wand at the ready, she pushed open the passage exit and walked outside of it.

Feeling predictably nervous and vulnerable, she neared the corner where the corridor turned to the one that the prefects were stalking. Holly took a deep breath, looked away from the map, and stepped around to face it ("it" being the corridor). She pointed her wand to the stone wall at her left and remembering the incantation that had taken her tongue so long to master she hissed, "Fumificum Galbinus!" Before either of the prefects could turn to look at her, a beam of white light the width of a broomstick handle silently erupted from her wand, bouncing from wall to wall and from floor to ceiling at such speed it had reached the end of the wide hall within a second.

Holly held her breath--and ran... willing herself not to trip. The beams of light burst into acid-green smoke, which filled the entire corridor, catching both prefects by surprise. She could hear them coughing and spluttering out incantations, the beams from their flashlights unable to penetrate the smog. She ran through the corridor before the temporary screen had begun to fade. Down the next deserted hallway, to the second passage, and into it.

Heart pounding, Holly looked at the Marauder's Map once again. This hall, only accessible on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, was empty. It came out in an unused dungeon classroom, which, too, was deserted. Holly started down it, breathing deep to block out any noise but her footsteps.

A minute or so later the Grey Lady passed through the passage in front of her, causing Holly to clap a hand over her mouth and scream into it. But, the resident Ravenclaw ghost didn't seem to notice her, and disappeared through the wall at her, Holly's, left.

On she walked, watching the walls beside her change from the cream-colored stone that made up a lot of hallways in the castle to dank-looking green that suggested she was entering the dungeons. She descended small sets of stairs here and there, going deeper underground with each step. Later Holly reached the back door that led into the unused dungeon and lit her wand, waiting, whilst watching two dots labeled "Severus Snape" and "Lucius Malfoy" move about in the box that represented Snape's office.

*()%()*

Ginny had lazed her way into the common room, leaving Lila and Kylie to bicker about who was cuter - - Colin or Seamus. She'd heard more than plenty about Kylie's boyfriend, and Ginny knew enough about Finnigan (Lee's sister's on-again-off-again "secret love") the way it was. How her roommates managed to stay up squabbling over stuff like that until early morning hours--on school nights, nonetheless--she had no clue.

So, dropping her diary (only the second one she'd owned since the age of eleven) and slipping on a pair of knit socks and a sweater, which had both been courteously sewn by her mother, she walked out. Ginny watched her skinny shadow wiggle and deform in the firelight as she moved past each burning torch on the spiraling stairs. The door at the bottom of the staircase leading from the common room to the girls' dormitories had been slammed so many times by various infuriated Gryffindor females... the handle didn't work. The house-elves hadn't bothered to fix it, ever, and thus it could easily be pushed open. It reminded her of the many doors at the Burrow that had fallen victim to the Weasley Temper before being magically repaired again... and again... and again....

So, pushing the door open, a familiar sight greeted her. Three Gryffindors a year older than herself sitting impossibly close to each other, heads bent over some other information concealed from her. All three looked up simultaneously when she entered, staring as though she were Vincent Crabbe spying for Malfoy, some insignificant but present enemy. If Ginny had to be an enemy--couldn't she at least pose a threat? She sighed.

So they'd gotten better about it... Ginny used to be just, like, a prop on stage while they each had lead parts. Occasionally she'd be a person in the background pinned with the part of "Civilian #3", but rarely. Now she was... she was something of a minor character. There and not totally unimportant. Little had Ginny known Sirius was more accepted than she was for a long time... and he was on the run and seen by them once every three months! The Trio had had more discussion with someone everyone believed was a mass murderer--who was never around--than a girl they saw every day.

On their own they were okay. Hermione, well... on her own all she talked about was homework. Ginny hung around Ron all summer long (now that they were both Hogwarts students), and had done so for the first ten years of her life anyway. She was blessed enough to have gotten Harry by himself a couple times that year... and actually talked about their own affairs! Ha! He hadn't mentioned Ron or Hermione once! Then again, that lasted only a couple days, because of her own refusal to accept Harry would ever be interested in her. It was something of a fling ended wrong. Harry was going to break it off anyway... he was infatuated with Cho, and she, Ginny, knew about it. They'd discussed that in front of her, as though she weren't there and listening. Hello! Harry-lover! Right here! But Ginny broke it up before Harry could, causing a pinch less of pain on her part. She left it at a "I don't know about this right now", to tell him the door was always--always--open. Okay, so that wasn't what she had implied, but it was what she meant! Harry could read between the lines, he had before.

If he'd even been listening, added that constant malevolent side of her that she could never control. It was like having a multiple-personalities disorder, but weirder. Always there... interrupting her thoughts... like an annoying conscience that never promotes "the right thing". She already had a conscience... and that "little voice inside" wasn't it.

Whoa... Harry and Annoying Voice Tangent, she thought, back on track.

Sirius--after his name was cleared, Holly bee-bopped her way into the Trio. Bright and shiny, she was too perfect for Ginny to handle at times, and she looked on jealously as Holly studied with Hermione, talked with and teased Harry, and walked around the lake with her brother. Her brother. How could you possibly be jealous of a girl who spent time with your brother? It shouldn't matter, especially if you have five other brothers to choose from, but it did. At that point, Ginny had become very familiar with an equation even Einstein didn't know.

Holly Black = Ugh!^3

But, upon spending more and more time with her (this started around the same time as Quidditch season), Holly wasn't really that bad... nor as perfectly lucky as Ginny saw her to be. So, okay, her family had money since the payment of the Ministry, she was very tall and relatively smart... but that's about all the further her blessings went without serious input. Holly Black was clumsy, secretive, and at times... phony.

For example... those eye things! "Contacts", she called them... her eyes weren't really that pretty honey-brown color. They were blue-gray with that catty sunlight-like ring of yellow. Besides that, she couldn't see without them! 20/20 vision? Nu-uh.

She owned nearly every Sleekeazy's product known to witches around the world to keep her hair the way it was, and has a list of cosmetic charms at the bottom of a box packed full of Muggle makeup.

Holly took voice lessons for two years before coming to live with her dad and Harry, and she had practiced Quidditch for at least an hour and a half every day until she started getting frostbite and windburn after each session. Some people called this commitment... Ginny called it sneaky. Holly didn't have piles natural talent like Harry--she had a good broom and loads of practice.

And besides it, Holly shared a common feeling with the Trio--she didn't belong. She'd been accepted, sort of, but hadn't really caught the puns when Harry and Ron made fun of Snape, meowed at Hermione when she claimed she had never made a serious mistake in her oh-so-keen judgment, or talked in strong Bulgarian accents. When Ron acted love-smart, Hermione would bat her eyes and say something in French... losing Holly completely along with "freaking her out", as she had put it. And when they referred to something in the past tense, Holly usually had no idea what they were talking about (relevant or not) because in the past she was basically nonexistent. Harry had explained some adventures to Holly, and in turn Holly passed them on to Ginny--so she could have a source that would remember them the next time the Trio discussed what had been.

Holly had only made her way into that group because she's Harry's godsister.

But, back to the present, Ginny knew what those three were up to now. And she wasn't planning to act like she was busy this time, she was going to join in and know what, exactly, was going on. "Impigergra Veneficus?" she asked.

"Yeah," answered Harry. "Hermione's looking up the potion she had been thinking of." And then, shocking her slightly, Harry reached back to a nearby table and pulled a chair up next to him. "You want to hear about it, don't you?" he added, motioning for her to have a seat. Ginny sat down, and before she could ask where Holly was...

"Got it," Hermione said triumphantly, tapping the page with one of her short but polished quill-user fingernails. She beamed at the boys on either side of her (Yeah, I'm here too, Hermione...), and they looked on expectantly. "Well, I think I have it, anyway..."

The top of the page was headed with the title: The Dominatinis Potion.

What it meant to Ginny, Harry, and Ron: zilch.

Hermione straightened up, cleared her throat, and traced her finger along the text as she read the potion statistics to them.

"The Dominatinis Potion, better known as Puppet's Wine, was first brewed by the sorceress Morgan le Fay in medieval times and used on captured Muggle paupers to prove its purpose.

"Effects lasting no less than a week, one spoonful-sized dose of this potion gave the brewer complete control over the consumer's actions. It is much like its brother spell, the Imperius Curse, but the taker cannot fight against its power--making it a much-desired substance amongst Dark witches and wizards. Unfortunate for them, but lucky for many, Fay's hand-written instructions for brewing the Dominatinis Potion (and how to use it) were lost in fire after her death. Nonetheless, the magical community has sought out the potion's contents and its cure for years. Millennium-old samples have been tested time and time again, only identifying one ingredient: Demiguise hair.

"Theoretically, the Dominatinis Potion is extremely active in all veins and arteries, working most vital muscles, and undetectable by human senses alone. All of its victims have died at some point after having it, from either being forced too much, or long exposure to its contents. The last recording of its use was in medieval times, names and dates unknown."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "That sounds... unpleasant."

"Ten Galleons that the last one to use it since this book was written was Salazar Slytherin!" said Ron, pointing to the last line of the passage. Hermione gave him a look that shrieked "irrelevancy", and he withdrew his hand, looking mildly embarrassed.

"What's a Demiguise?" Harry asked, brow furrowing in thought as he looked at the book-page. Hermione yawned and blinked a couple times, focusing her eyes. Ginny wouldn't have expected her to be sleepy at this hour... after all those midnight study sessions.

"It's an animal from the Far East. It's hair is used to make Invisibility Cloaks," she answered knowledgeably. "That's the ingredient that probably makes the potion undetectable by human senses, from a creature that can disappear whenever it wants."

"Now, who do we know that's really smart, patient enough to research and experiment with something for... a long time, evil and nasty, and would take no better joy than in using a deadly potion on a Ministry member for experimental purposes?" questioned Ginny, looking up at the three sixth years.

Harry rested his elbows on the table, rubbed the inner corners of his eyes underneath his glasses as though tired, and replied in a hollow, exasperated sort of voice. "Voldemort."

*()%()*

Whilst waiting for the dots "Lucius Malfoy" and "Severus Snape" to exit the room they were in, Holly discovered that, however minute, she moves slightly forward when jumping up and down, that it doesn't show anything different about your dot on the Marauder's Map if you're doing a handstand, and that the dungeons are very, very cold.

But, finally, Malfoy and Snape appeared to be leaving. Holly could have shouted "Hallelujah!" right there, but came to the conclusion it wouldn't be wise, and didn't. She walked into the dungeon classroom, back out on the other side (but not before checking that there were no prefects nearby), and pressed her ear to the port next to it--Snape's office door.

A smooth voice, casual and uncaring but powerful all the same, was speaking. Holly assumed this was Malfoy. "--Avery and Macnair are there, they want to speak with you about it. A brief meeting, but necessary."

"Hogsmeade it is, then," replied Snape.

Holly, panicking, hurried back into the classroom and shut the door. She stared down at the map as Draco's father and Snape exited the designated Potions master office and moved into the entrance hall, and out the front doors.

With an "Alohomora" she went into his office, which was possibly the grossest teacher office she'd ever seen. Ever. Green, with potion ingredients everywhere... slimy stuff floating in jars lining shelves on the walls, a wardrobe that seemed to scream "PAINT ME!", and... she couldn't bear to look around much longer.

There was a knapsack on Snape's desk that Holly went for, quickly opening it and removing its contents in case the Cloak was, for some reason, buried in there. Instead she found a folded robe, parchment with various notes on it looked like they were written while riding a broomstick (she couldn't read them at all... in fact they looked like they were in a different language, but it was Snape's handwriting), and two small potion vials, each capped with a Sealing Charm. They looked empty at first, but she shook them, and could hear liquid moving around in them. Clear liquids you could see evidence of... but Holly couldn't even see droplets hanging against the sides of the vial or on the thin barrier of the Sealing Charm.

She thought for a moment, looking at the vials. Well, I'm stealing the Invisibility Cloak... he won't know who was in here, would he? She rolled the thin containers over in her hand. He'd accuse one of us whether we were in here or not, and for all he knows, it could be two different people seeking out two different things. She slipped the vial in her pants pocket. Should've never left it able to be opened by a sixteen-year-old who knows Alohomora, buddy.

Holly circled the desk and pulled open each drawer, searching for the cloak. She found it, and set it down on top of a book that looked like it may have been the text for a more basic Potions class. Holly glanced at the Marauder's Map just in time to see Snape and Malfoy disappearing off the side of it (surrounded by a minute rectangle that was a carriage pulled by two horses with funny names) towards Hogsmeade. She continued the search, opening more drawers--nothing, then a cupboard in the corner. There she found a shallow stone basin with inscriptions along the rim. It was a beautiful, flowing script... Quenya? It had to be... she'd seen it before. Around the edge were more carvings--runes...

I know what this is, she thought, a pensieve. The substance of the memories within it were an evergreen color, swirling in a pattern that made Holly feel like she was looking down into a very slow-moving tornado. She took out her wand and prodded the surface... and the greenish thoughts of Snape swirled faster and separated like the earth crumbling and falling--victim to gravity. Colors appeared, dull ones of black, brown, gray, and white, and they rearranged themselves into a picture.

Holly was looking down into... a... a dining room? She moved her face closer, and saw a group of about fourteen, it looked, encircling a table. All of their cloaks were black, and each hood was up. Holly stood up straighter and looked around. Curiosity will not win, she told herself. She glanced down at the Marauder's Map, looked around the office again, and then back at the pensieve. Holly sighed, Never mind, and plunged her hand into the basin. She fell into Snape's thoughts, passing immense blackness on the way, feeling like she was skydiving--but through a frigid cold and unlit sky.

Holly was about to try doing a somersault, but landed on her feet behind the table before she could. Breathing hard, she looked around. She was in a relatively small room, considering the size of the table and the number of people around it, made of massive gray bricks, with a single wooden table in the middle. Nothing was on it--no food, no papers--nothing but the hands of those sitting around it. It was hot, but the people didn't seem to care. Sure enough, fourteen were seated at the table. Along with having their hoods up, all of them were wearing masks. All but one. This person's face was shadowed, but the red eyes were unmistakable. His spidery hands were folded in front of him, on the table, and his gaze was darting from one person to the other.

"My Death Eaters," he said to a responding silence, "a quick word with the remaining in the Circle before you return to your homes. I have found the location of the Potters. I'll be sending a spy to check that the location is correct. If so, tomorrow night I will be making my way there, alone."

Her heart skipped a beat. Holly wanted to run out of this door-less room, scramble to the Potters, tell them they were going to be killed....

But, then she remembered this was only a memory... and the Potters were dead. All but one...

"I can often tell which of my servants are truly on my side, and which are spies. If you have chosen the side of the foe, now is not the time to report this information to those who walk the path of death." She wondered whether Voldemort was saying this to scare the Death Eaters there into complete loyalty, or if he meant it. "Each Dark Mark imprinted on your forearms does not only unite us by a common tattoo. I touch one, and each of you feel its burn. Tracking Charms are in the very black of its ink, and Loyalty Spells precede it."

A shiver ran through the Death Eater she was standing behind, and Voldemort looked around at each of them again. For a moment she could have sworn that the Dark Lord locked eyes with her too, and she jolted involuntarily. A moment later, Holly was sure she'd been mistaken. "Severus... you will stay. That will be all."

One by one, the hooded figures Disapparated with a singular pop. The one in front of her, she guessed it was Snape, sat stationary in his seat. "Yes, my lord?" It was his voice speaking--oily and cruel.

"You will go to this address... 16 Dogwood Drive, Godric's Hollow. It's in Wales. Check that the Potters are present, and report back to me immediately. This should take you no more than half an hour... and if you're not back within that time I will assume your loyalty is untrue and send Malfoy and Nott to the place you will currently be at to take care of you."

"Take care of you," obviously didn't refer to tender loving care.... Voldemort casually traced his parchment-white fingertips along a knot in the wooden table. "You are fair warned. Don't fail me, Severus."

He answered quickly. "I won't, my lord."

A smooth smile turned up the corner's of Voldemort's mouth, but the red eyes weren't tinted with any happiness whatsoever. They remained fathomless and evil... scarlet not reminding Holly of Gryffindor, or cloak fabric, or phoenix feathers, or garnets... or anything else she could classify under "good". They were the red of some sort of fire that wouldn't keep you warm, or cause a dying forest to be reborn... just a fire that left pain and destruction in the form of blood-stained ashes.

Vaguely she wondered what Voldemort looked like as a boy her age... or when he'd been her age. Chamber of Secrets... Voldemort... mad house-elf... the answers just weren't coming together for her. But, what if he'd been--y'know--beautiful? His eyes most certainly weren't always red... brown, maybe? Blue eyes didn't sound right...but then....

An image of a toothpick-thin redhead with thick, coke-bottle glasses filled her mind for a moment... poor and helpless, striving for power... but there was no way a redhead would be put into Slytherin. She snickered to herself... dark hair, definitely. Holly shook the thought out of her head, her objection was "importance", and came back to the present.

"Very well," Voldemort answered--still sneering, "you may go."

Then the world around her faded, and she was nothing but a body floating in blackness for a moment. Holly was about to start humming to the melody of The Twilight Zone before she was... outside.

She was at Hogwarts, and it was late night. The wind was howling, and in front of her Holly could see all of the trees in the Forbidden Forest bent over in the rushing current of air. Small wisps of clouds were passing through the sky at great speed, focusing your eye on the full moon which seemed to remain in its position, surrounded by stars that twinkled as though boasting that they weren't in high winds. Holly pulled her hair into a fist to keep it from blowing in her face, but stray pieces escaped, stringing her vision with streaks of brown. She groaned in despair, but it was then a new movement caught her eye.

It was someone in a black cloak sneaking along the grounds, hunched over and moving fast. Holly ran to catch up, and, determining this was Snape, she watched her surroundings.

Hogwarts looked much the same as it did when she attended it, if not exactly. Minus the fact that it was winter in her time, and the Scotland rain had been kind enough to turn into snow. A ways away, the hut that was Hagrid's had its homey appeal, minus a few deadly looking animals. The trees of the Forbidden Forest hadn't grown an inch since the day she was standing in, and the lawns were magically sheared as usual. Even the Whomping Willow looked just as wise and vicious...

--And they were heading right toward it.

"Are you nuts!?" she exclaimed, wishing that in some way Snape would hear her. But he moved steadily forward, unaware of a young female's presence. Then again, this was only a memory.

At the base of the tree, Holly stood back and watched it warily. She chewed on her tongue, wishing for some sort of permanent damage on Snape that she could use against him in her time. The branches of the tree whipped and punched, and it wasn't quite as creaky as it was years later. Snape managed to duck the majority of these attempted damages, grab a stick, and poke a large knot on the tree's trunk.

Instantly, the willow froze. Bent over, in position to nearly scoop her Potions master up in its branches and eat him, it looked like it was going to uproot itself. Pulling his hood down off his--greasy back then, too--head, he sighed triumphantly, and hurried down an entrance through a large gap in the tree's roots. Holly looked at the willow for a moment before scrambling after him, sliding down into a low tunnel of some sort.

She followed him for an age, bend double and stiff... hurrying along and looking in all directions, following the light of his wand. Slowly the tunnel began to rise, then it twisted. It was still dark, but Snape started moving up... it looked like there were stairs, but Holly couldn't tell, and opened a trap door above.

Moonlight lit the passage, and she heard a muffled growling, as though from behind a wall of the room above. Snape froze immediately. Holly was about to move closer to the opening for a better look, but another noise distracted her.

Around a turn in the tunnel behind her pranced a... a stag? She looked at the deer, antlers and all, for a second of shock before swiftly the running animal turned into a teenage boy in a deep scarlet robes. Wiry and dark-haired, the male ran forward, crouching, grabbed Snape by the back of the cloak and threw him backwards. Snape stumbled then fell, and Holly glimpsed a set of paws and a long-snouted gray wolf stick its head down into the tunnel.

It howled and started making its way towards the two adolescents, and Holly stared as the boy shouted a command: "Moony, no!" as though speaking to his rather tamed hunting dog, not a full-fledged werewolf. The wolf stopped, like it understood what the boy was saying, and in its split-second of hesitation, the dark-haired male transformed into the stag once more, and pushed the werewolf back into the room above. Quickly the stag transformed back (again), hurried in reverse and yanked the trapdoor shut.

With all his strength, the boy held the door down tight as infuriated howls were heard on the other side, along with the noise of claws scraping on the wood. The teenager turned and looked back at Snape, on the floor and still caught by surprise. A very familiar voice, cottony but deep, emerged from the teenager's mouth. "Are you all right?" he asked, pushing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses up his nose with his knuckle.

Holly gasped. Glasses, wiry, messy black hair... from the nose and cheekbones to the hands and feet... everything about this guy said "Harry" Everything except the deep brown eyes... and brown eyes must mean "James".

Snape pushed himself off the ground and scowled. "What're you doing here, Potter?"

"Preventing you from being-" James stopped, frowning. It was a moment before the scratching stopped, and she could hear paws moving away from where they were. James pushed his bangs up for a moment (they were wet--he was sweating) revealing no scar, before letting them drop again. He sighed.

"I saw your little friend, Potter, you don't have to watch your words..." Snape brushed dirt off his robes and glared at James. Holly could see, now, that Snape was no older than sixteen. By the sounds of it, puberty hadn't quite given him the final blow, and his voice was a couple notches higher than what she was used to. Young and fresh-faced (minus a couple sparsely placed pimples), he was quite visibly pale. "So, just say it, you came here to rescue your own arse before-"

The elder Potter, although at this point looking not a day older than Harry's current age, dropped his caring tone immediately. He looked like he were struggling between being innocently heroic and taking what Snape had to say or coming out and shouting that he'd just saved his life. "Look, just come back... we need to talk to Dumbledore-"

"No we don't," Snape cut him off, using the term "we" like it was a curse-word he had no desire to say, whatsoever. "Your little prank is about to be exposed, and the suspension of a few Gryffindors sounds about right, doesn't it?" He already sounded like a teacher. "I'm going to go talk to Professor Krahn-" He started walking away, but James rounded him, blocking the passage.

"I've already sent Peter and Lily to do that. Sirius is waiting for us in Dumbledore's off-"

Snape contradicted him. "Or more likely, at the Hogsmeade train station. He's the one who told me to-"

"You're a fool to listen to what Sirius tells you to do if he walks away smirking," James stated, narrowing his eyes. "Now, c'mon..."

His voice faded and the world dissolved--and Holly had time enough to wonder why two totally different memories were linked together in Snape's Pensieve before she was on her feet again.

It was dark, in the pouring rain. Snape, presumably, in a traveling cloak, was standing ahead of her. She looked around him, at his face.

It was Snape, but he was young (but older than in the last memory). Not at all handsome, not that she expected him to be, but only in his early twenties. No pimples this time around. Dark hair still looked greasy, and he was missing the lines around his eyes along with the scar she had noticed once before on his chin.

He was gazing down at a relatively short, picket fence. Behind it was a cheerful-looking little cottage. Holly imagined that with a sunny background it would be a cute country sort of scene. There were no other houses around... none that she could see, anyway. Snape paused to look at the mailbox, and so did Holly. The Potters.

Holly felt as though she were stuck in a movie... but worse. Once again she felt like she should be warning the Potters about what was coming, who was going to betray them... she wanted to change the past. In fact, it felt like she could change it.

He stood motionless, looking at the house, the gate, and the mailbox. It was a while before Snape opened the gate and walked up the sidewalk, Holly following close behind. There was a huge, polished, black motorcycle sitting outside the house. On it was an adult-sized helmet and another one... about the size to fit a very young toddler. A tree on the other side of the house had a rarely used looking swing hanging from it. Snape knocked on the door, and pulled his hood down off of his head, looking up at the sky beside him for a second, like he was only just considering the weather he had been standing in for quite a while.

Holly watched as the door opened to show her a tall, broad-shouldered, young man with black hair behind it. For a second Holly thought it was James, but looked closer. He had round, blue eyes that narrowed at the sight of Snape. For a second she stared at the handsome, youthful face with a dawning feeling of de ja vu as the man cocked an eyebrow at the slightly shorter man facing him. "Dad?" she said aloud. Expecting an answer, she was momentarily disappointed as the young version of her father didn't even look at her. Then again... it was only a memory... and there was no Holly Black standing on the doorstep.

"Yes?" he prompted, carefully considering Snape. It seemed as though it took his every ounce of propriety to speak this casually to his former classmate. Holly didn't see it, but there was a light about his eyes that never came back... was stolen by the death of his best friends, destroyed by years in Azkaban. Clear eyes, then were gray-blue and to the point, now darker, and deadened. But at this time, fifteen years before, his eyes had already lost some of their brightness...

"I need to talk to James and Lily," Snape stated, urgently but reluctantly at the same time, staring Sirius in the eyes.

"Huh... uh-huh..." Sirius replied before politely shutting the door. Snape grumbled angrily and pounded on the door, harder this time. "Nobody home!" chirped her father from behind it, followed by another voice.

"Who is it, Sirius?" asked an unseen male.

"Door-to-door salesman. Don't open it," Sirius advised shortly.

"I don't believe you..." the other man replied slowly before the door opened again, revealing the person who owned the voice. Tall, thin, messy black hair, glasses... James again, but older--although not by much. He'd aged maybe five years, she wasn't sure. "Severus," he said, setting aside the Gryffindor versus Slytherin surname basics but eyeing the man suspiciously, "what're you doing here?"

Snape's shoulders tensed, and his neck stiffened. He shut his eyes suddenly, and Holly sensed a major internal battle going on. James's eyes widened and he looked at the man in front of him in question. After a moment, Snape managed to ask, "May--may I enter? I need to talk to speak with you and your family. It--it's urgent."

James watched him for a second, clearly ignoring hissed instructions from Sirius whom was standing behind him, and cleared his throat. Some sort of awakened horror flickered across his features before he answered. "Of course." He stepped aside, opening the door a bit wider, and Snape entered. Holly followed close behind, and James nearly shut her in the door--if that were possible.

Inside, the entryway was also white, with a couple paintings hanging on the wall (both of flowery, forest landscapes), one moving--filled with fairies, nymphs, and whatnot, the other completely stationary. Over a small table (resting on it were two candles and a book) hung a frame-less mirror, reflecting all the people in the room other than Holly. Sirius exited through two swinging doors to the left.

"Here, I'll take your cloak-" James offered.

"I'm fine with it on," Snape returned, pulling away from James's outstretched hand. He lowered his arm slowly, looking shifty.

"Er, you can come into the living room. Is it okay if Sirius listens in? Because, honestly, I don't think you have a choice-" Even in the manner he spoke... he was just like Harry. Or, she supposed, Harry was just like him.

Snape replied that he may, and James led him (or them... if you want to look at it that way) through the door that Sirius had earlier left through. A cheery blue color, the sitting room was full of puffy sofas and armchairs, a tall fireplace in the corner. There were empty teacups and saucers on the low table.

A pretty woman with wavy, dark red hair was sitting in one of the chairs, gazing at Snape with an expression of mild disbelief. With emerald-green eyes, she was unmistakably the one who gave Harry his eyes--Lily Potter. She looked somewhat like a fairy depicted by a Muggle would look: delicate and radiant... small, but important.

Sirius was sitting on the couch, with a small child clinging to his knees like Velcro. The baby was standing, leaning on Sirius's leg for support. With a shock of wild, curly, blonde hair on its head, the little one turned to look at Snape through big, round eyes that looked too big for the little girl's face.

After gaping for a moment at the child, Holly had an eerie feeling wash over her. That was her, Holly, clinging to her father... looking at Snape. She goggled at the little girl for a moment before miniature-Holly's face contorted. "Aaaaaah-aaaaaah-EEEEEH-HU-HUU!" The little girl's eyes filled with tears and her nose turned red as she started having a fit. Quickly she turned her face away from Snape and started scrabbling to sit in Sirius's lap, but having little success, as she didn't yet have proper motion skills. It looked like she could stand on her own, and maybe walk... but that was about it. Since little Holly was having no luck with getting herself up on the sofa, still crying, she reached out her arms towards her father, opening and closing her little (and chubby) hands in signal for him to pick her up. "Pad! Pad! Pad!"

Sirius took Holly in his arms ("Aw, c'mon, Punkie.") and rocked her slightly as she buried his face in his collar and clutched his robes, crying in near hysterics. "Well done, Snape," he remarked, "she's terrified." Sirius kissed the side of the baby's head and continued to rock her, shushing the child. It was apparent that he had to fill the spot of caring mother along with loving father in Holly's life at that point.

Popping his head out from behind a pillow on the same sofa--Holly was surprised she hadn't noticed his feet sticking out from under the cushion by now--the green eyes of baby Harry appeared under a good amount of black hair (already untidy). He was a tiny kid, but adorable... and scar-less. He looked at his crying compeer for a second and, like babies do, started to scream as well. Quickly the baby boy slid off the couch and started crawling frantically toward his mother. Holly knew, from watching one-year-olds, that crawling was much quicker than walking when in need. On the way, he hit the top of his head on the coffee table and stopped right there, sat down, and cried louder--covering the spot he had bumped his head with his hands.

"Oh, Harry, I'm coming... Mummy's coming, handsome..." Lily stood up from her post, swept Harry up into her arms and rested him on her hip, rubbing his head lightly while he sniffed into her shoulder. "Poor thing... second time that's happened this week... really we should move this table, James."

"I know," he sighed in return, "why don't we just lay those two down... it's late, and they're tired. I'll draw up another cradle for Holly...." Lily took baby Holly from Sirius ("Nooo! Pad! Pad!") and rested her on the other hip, then carried both babies into the next room. James said he'd be right back, and advised Snape to have a seat--but he didn't.

Holly sat down on the couch next to her father and looked at him, paying Snape little attention. Sirius rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his chin in his hands. "What're you doing here?" he asked, not looking at the man he was talking to.

"You already know why I'm here, Black." Sirius turned his round eyes on Snape, a look of mild worry on his face. Holly turned her head to her left too, looking at him as well.

Snape's face was wearing a look she had never seen before--and Holly knew that no matter the age of your face, your expression for a certain emotion never looks different. He seemed... sad. Sympathetic, even. There was a blankness in his eyes (they were blacker than usual) that had some characteristics of a meaningful look.

Apparently Sirius got the message. Holly glanced back to her right and watched as her father, who looked so young and naïve to her, seemed to suddenly be supporting a great weight on his shoulders, and a dead look came over him. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Sirius rested his elbows on his knees once more and covered his face with his hands, pressing his fingertips onto his eyelids.

A moment later, Lily and James reentered, baby-less, and urged Snape to sit down. He refused, though, and told them to sit instead. Eyeing him cautiously, the couple sat down in the loveseat-sized sofa. "I'm here to tell you," Snape began, taking deep breaths and not managing to keep eye contact with the Potters, "-I'm here to tell you that Voldemort knows your whereabouts."

Instead of the radical reactions she expected, Lily and James were both come over by a resigned look of determination. It was as though they were living a prophecy written out in their dreams... like fate had finally caught up with them. James squeezed his wife's hand in his and sighed. "We thought he may have been looking for us..."

Snape glanced down, and Holly followed his gaze to a silver glimmer at his wrist--a watch, no doubt. He looked up again, and straight at the Potters. "We have less than fifteen minutes to get to Hogwarts. I can't explain all of this now. You need to bring Harry..." That was the firs time Holly had ever heard Snape say the word "Harry". "Black, you and your daughter come too."

"Hogwarts?" repeated Lily shakily, "Why Hogwarts?"

Snape checked that his cloak was fastened tightly. "You can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds," he stated, "we'll be safe there. We need to speak with Professor Dumbledore... he'll know what to do."

"But," began James, Holly expected more questions about Hogwarts and Dumbledore--but that wasn't what came, "how will we get there? The babies can't Disapparate. You can't use Floo powder with small children, nor is there time enough to make a Portkey."

Snape had apparently been thinking about this whilst there had been no conversation, or before he had even entered the house. "Black, is that your motorbike outside?" Sirius beamed with what little pride he could muster at this point.

"It is."

"Bring the kids there on that," he suggested in form of a command, "then we'll Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk the rest of the way."

In a moment, the Potters and her father were all on their feet... Sirius in the other room retrieving the Harry and Holly, James and Lily pulling on cloaks and searching for something for Harry to ride in to avoid the rain.

As Sirius came out of the door he'd left in, struggling to hold two babies that were whimpering into either side of his neck, and James asked Snape if they'd need to bring anything, Holly came to a conclusion.

Her curiosity chipped, Holly shut her eyes and put as much thought and feeling into her words as she could. "I don't want to be here anymore!" she shouted to no one in particular. But, her yelling worked, and immediately she felt herself rising. She was pulled out of the world of memories unknown and in a moment found herself standing in the Potions master's office. She picked up the basin, contents evergreen and slowly swirling again, and placed it back in the cupboard in which she found it. After draping the Invisibility Cloak over her arm, she picked up the folded Marauder's Map and flicked it open.

Holly found the square that her dot was in. With a quick scan of the map she saw that Filch in the hospital wing along with his cat and the school nurse; and "Harry Potter", "Ronald Weasley", "Hermione Granger", and "Virginia Weasley" were clumped close together in the Gryffindor common room. A dot labeled "Beauregard" was circling around another that told her Draco Malfoy in the Slytherin dungeon, and "Severus Snape" was just outside his office.

Oh, shit.

*()%()*

QUOTE: Secrets--Jean-Jacques Rousseau

I liked this quote--because it works well into the story. Vice (as in wicked or evil conduct/corruption) draws a bit nearer when things that could easily be found completely innocent suddenly become mysterious (Snape's absence, Holly's constant research, the ministry woman's death). And "concealing" deals with Ron and Hermione, the entire relationship (the longer it goes without being known by all, the worse the results when it is "universally" known) and Ron's quietness on the subject of Holly (that's not going to go over well in the end). But that hiding things deals with nearly everyone else... Harry (Cho or Ginny?), Holly (the Elves and her Charm), Snape (spying for Voldemort, inee?), and various others. So basically--nothing good comes from secrets 'round Hogwarts.