"Draco, Draco please listen to me. You have to do this, and do it right. If you don´t..." Lucius Malfoy sighed, and gazed down at his son. He hated to put this responsibility on him...he feared that the boy would fail. "If you don´t succeed, I won´t be able to protect you from whatever the Dark Lord decides to do to you....or to me."

Draco glared at his father. The man was Voldemort´s lapdog, that was evident. Whatever Voldemort wanted done, Lucius Malfoy would make sure it happened...with no regard to how it might affect his family.

Draco lowered his gaze to the floor of the Forbidden Forest. He kicked a stray pebble at his father´s shiny black shoes, leaving a tiny smudge of dust in the mirror-polished leather. Oddly enough, that fact gave Draco a small feeling of satisfaction. But it quelled itself quickly.

He scowled. "Why can´t Crabbe do it? Or Goyle?"

The elder Malfoy scoffed. "They´re too stupid, and you know it, Draco. Besides, Voldemort asked for you specifically. He thinks that it´s time you proved your loyalty."

Draco wasn´t certain that he thought it was time for this, but wisely refrained from voicing his concern. Instead, he asked, as casually as he could, "Does he want to mark me?"

His father´s eyes narrowed momentarily, shifting to scrutinize various places of Draco´s physiognomy. "No, no I do not believe he wishes to mark you yet. But if you can prove your loyalty to him...if you can do this...then I believe he will except you."

Draco nodded. As expected, his father had completely misread his intent. Not unwelcome in this situation, but still...

"Now, you have a few days yet before the signal. But as soon as you get that signal...well...get it done." Lucius stared at his son for a minute before glancing around in all directions. "Look, Draco, I have to get back before anyone misses me. You should get back to breakfast as well..."

"Breakfast?" Draco cried incredulously. "It´s 6:00 on a Saturday morning! I´m going back to bed..."

Lucius growled impatiently. "Whatever...just...get it done Draco, alright? I have to go...Don´t fail." He disapparated before his son could even open his mouth to speak.

"Yeah," Draco snorted, "nice day to you too, father." And with that he set off toward the Slytherin dormitories.

* * * * *

"Where are you, Severus? Are you alright?" Minerva pushed open the door to my sitting room and gasped. I heard more footsteps close in behind her and groaned when I realized who it was: Poppy Pomfrey and Hildiga Sprout. Merlin. Three insufferable mother-hens. Just my luck.

"Severus what happened to you?" Poppy screeched, and she rushed to my side and immediately began examining my jaw. "At least it isn´t broken. But you´ll have to come up to the hospital wing to get it treated. I didn´t bring any potions with me."

I jerked my face from her grasp and turned slowly to glare at her. For a mediwitch, the woman could be amazingly daft.

"Poppy," I said in an expertly controlled whisper. "Who do you think supplies you with those potions?"

I watched as her confused look perked-up into one of understanding. She jumped up with surprising agility for a woman her size and tottered down the hall to my office. She would be back though. She had neglected to ask me for my password.

"Severus...what happened?" Minerva asked me again, with slightly more force.

I leaned in towards her, clearly cutting Hildiga out of the conversation, and said simply, "Run-in with a dog." She obviously understood, as her eyes flittered for a second to Hildiga, and she nodded to me.

Perhaps not all the staff were idiots.

"I´ll get Albus."

"You do that..."

As she vacated the premises, Poppy re-entered, blushing slightly.

"Er...Severus...what was that password again?"

I simply stared at her for several tense minutes, before saying in a falsely calm voice, "Come here, Poppy."

She came, though reluctantly, since she refused to admit even to herself that she couldn´t handle a patient.

She stood over me, and I motioned with one finger for her to come down to my level. She hesitated. Ha. She knew it was never a good idea to be within throwing distance of me when I was in a bad mood. I wouldn´t actually throw her, obviously, but I could get very nasty.

"Poppy, there is nothing I can do to you if you come down here that I can´t do if you´re up there," I said in as reasonable a voice as I could muster. That was a lie of course. If she were down here, I could yell in her face, which was precisely what I planned to do.

"Oh...don´t be silly, Severus, I know that," she squeaked. Of course, Poppy. Of course you do.

She squatted down close to me, a wary look in her eyes. I put a gentle hand on her shoulder and put my face within an inch of hers.

"Now, Poppy, don´t you think that if I had wanted your help, I would have come to you by now?"

She said nothing, so I continued. "Do you really think that I would need the help of your dismal potions or healing skills, when I have a full store of elixirs right down the hall?"

"No..." she said not sounding at all convinced. I could pretend though.

"Then why don´t you and your little friend get the hell out of my site?" I hissed.

She growled in frustration and jumped up. She turned as she reached the door, and pointed a finger at me.

"Merlin save you if you ever really need someone´s help, Severus." And with that she swept from the room, taking Hildiga with her.

Good.

I rose from the floor, still in my dressing gown, and sauntered to the potions store I kept in my bathroom. Did Poppy really think I kept everything in my office? I opened the medicine cabinet to reveal an arsenal of healing potions that I had brewed for my own, private use. I have needed them more and more in recent months, thanks to the blasted war.

I chose a potion that was quite effective at reducing swelling and relieving pain, and began to apply it to the purple lumps on my face. Actually, much as I hated to admit it, the lower half of my face was one big purple lump. If Black were not such a cockless bastard, I might have respected him for his strength.

"Severus!"

Oh, Albus...here it comes.

"Severus! What did you do to Poppy?" He appeared at the door, and had the grace to look surprised when he saw my face. I raised an eyebrow.

"Why, whatever do you mean?"

Minerva scoffed. "We saw her and Hildiga running the other direction on our way down here. They were very upset."

My eyebrows met halfway up my forehead. "Really? I wonder what could have startled them..."

They shot me identical scowls.

"Well, you´re not insinuating that I had anything to do with it, are you?" I said, the mock innocence dripping from my voice.

Albus was clearly enraged. "Severus, how many times must I impress upon you that you cannot lash out at the other staff members every time you are in a sour mood? Do you have any idea..."

"Black knows," I interjected curtly. That shut him up.

His mouth only wagged for what seemed like an eternity. I tired of watching him and went back to applying the salve to my face.

"Sirius knows what?" he finally queried.

I glared at him. "Oh...you don´t know?" He looked at me, thoroughly perplexed. I continued applying the potion: a little too firmly, perhaps, because a sudden pain shot through my jaw. I winced.

"Severus," Minerva appealed gently, "let me do that for you?"

I watched her warily as she edged closer to me, but ultimately gave her the gauze and allowed her to take over the task of nursing my jaw.

Albus found his tongue once again. "Severus, what are you ta..."

"It was clever of you, Albus, to force it that way. Let Black see my handwriting in the report, knowing that Harry would show him my last letter. Then go ahead and give the arse a copy of the report to examine again, afterwards, so there would be no doubt of the recognition. Too bad he didn´t tell Harry though. No, he came to me first, and did this." I pointed to my jaw, to which Minerva had stopped tending. She now had her hand on my arm, in what she no doubt thought was a comforting way.

Albus opened his mouth to say something, but I held up my hand to silence him. "You will still have your wish, however. I promised Black that I would tell Harry the truth. You see, he was kind enough to point out to me that I have been using Harry´s trust against him. He has told me all of his worst fears, his deepest pain, and I have taken advantage of every one of them over the past four years. So, in order for Harry to protect himself from me, to spare him any more pain, I must hurt him this one, final time. You really should be there though, Headmaster, if you can fit it into your schedule." I shrugged. "This really is going to hurt him, and as you seem to have a positive effect on the boy, I thought it might aid him in hearing the news if you were there to offer some comfort. Black agrees with me on that, if that convinces you further."

Albus looked stunned: likely couldn´t believe that I had figured it all out.

"Severus, I didn´t. I would never..."

"I will send Harry a message to meet me in my office at 2:00 this afternoon. I hope you can make it." I pulled away from my female colleague. "Thank you, Minerva, for giving a damn. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do in the laboratory."

* * * * *

"So, Harry," Ron leaned conspiratorially toward his friend, "who else wants to try out for Keeper?"

"Hmm...Let me think..." Harry bit his lip. "Right...Dean signed up, and Lavender...and some third year...and Oliver Marcus, that sixth year over by Angelina..." Harry pointed to a tall, blonde Gryffindor boy sitting next to the Chaser, "...and his girlfriend Maureen Peters. Oh, and Dierdre Nolle," here Harry lowered his voice so only Ron could hear, "that fourth year who made fun of Ginny all through first year."

Ron scowled. "Bet she doesn´t even make the first round..."

Harry nodded and smiled. "You or Maureen will make it, probably. No one else really stands a chance."

"No seventh years trying out then?"

Harry shook his head. "No. If you think about it, most of them are on the team anyway. Only Lee Jordan and Janette Lowinski aren´t. Lee´s already announcer, and Janette hates flying, apparently."

Ron perked up and reached for yet another piece of chicken. "I can´t wait until the Keeper Scrimmage today. Do you know what it`ll be like, Harry?"

"It shouldn´t be too bad, not for you anyway. We´ll all just try to throw Quaffles through the hoops, and you´ll have to block them."

"Do you have to be there too, Harry?" Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. "Fred and George want as many people throwing Quaffles as possible. All six of us have to pretend to be Chasers." Harry grinned.

"So...all I have to do is block enough Quaffles...and they´ll let me try out for real next week?" Ron asked, looking suddenly very nervous.

Harry nodded. "We thought it would be a good way to narrow things down a bit. Seven people is a lot to try out."

Hermione reached across Harry to pat Ron´s arm. "Oh, you´ll do great, Ron! You´ll see!"

"You´ll be there, right `Mione?" Ron inquired, looking very hopeful. Pathetically hopeful, actually.

Hermione grinned. "2:00, right?" Ron nodded, and she announced. "I wouldn´t miss it!"

Ron grinned back at her and turned back to his food, looking very smug indeed.

Harry looked across the table at Ginny, and caught her eye. The both giggled. After Ginny had pointed it out to him a few weeks ago, he thought it quite obvious that Ron and Hermione were completely smitten with one another. In fact, it was quite obvious to nearly everyone in Gryffindor Tower but Ron and Hermione themselves. Harry shook his head and took a bite of potato.

Just as he reached for a jug of pumpkin juice to refill his goblet, a sleek, black owl came to a graceful landing next to Harry´s plate. It stuck out its foot and hooted for Harry to remove the attached parchment. Harry obliged, and the owl allowed him to stroke its head briefly before it took flight once more.

Harry stared at the note, still folded, in his hands. His three friends had stopped eating and were now watching him.

"So...who´s it from, mate?"

"Don´t know..." Harry muttered. For some reason, Harry was sure nothing good was in that letter. "Only one way to find out," he said to himself, and opened the parchment.

-----Mr. Potter,

I need to speak with you. Come to my office at 2:00 this afternoon.

Professor S. Snape-----

Ron and Hermione, who had been reading over his shoulder, both sighed. Ron actually hit the table.

"Stupid git. How can he do that? You have to be at the scrimmage!"

Hermione clicked her tongue at him. "Ron, whatever Snape wants, I´m sure it´s important for him to want to meet with Harry like this."

Ginny was craning her neck, trying to see the note. "What? What does it say?"

Harry looked up and shook his head. "Snape. He wants me to come to his office at 2:00. Says he needs to talk to me."

"But the scrimmage!"

Harry forced a smile. "It´ll be alright. Ron´ll have enough people throwing Quaffles at him without me helping. Besides...I can´t be in trouble, or Snape would be trying to expel me right now. He wouldn´t wait until two. So...maybe it won´t take long. I might be able to make it to the scrimmage a bit late..." Harry trailed off. It was still so unusual. "I wonder what he could want though?"

Ron scoffed and began piling food in his mouth. Hermione bit her lip. Ginny frowned and shook her head.

Harry looked up at the Head table, to try to catch Snape´s eye, when he realized that Snape wasn´t there. This made Harry nervous. Snape was a spy: perhaps something had happened that put Harry in danger? But no...then Dumbledore would talk to him about it, not Snape. Harry´s gaze shifted to the Headmaster. He was not having one of his usual animated conversations, or jovially recanting some joke to his colleagues. He instead was talking quietly with McGonagall. Both looked strangely solemn.

Finally, Harry forced himself to look away. Whatever it was that Snape wanted to tell him, it couldn´t be good.

* * * * *

Albus arrived in my office at 1:45 that afternoon. He did not knock. He simply opened the door, walked in, and took a seat on the other side of my desk. He did not speak to me, nor did I look at him. I only continued to mark the tall stack of sixth year essays lying in front of me. Or rather, I tried to mark them. However, I found I could not concentrate on their words. So instead of forcing myself to read what they had so painstakingly written out, I simply marked the paper based on how that person usually faired in my classroom. Needless to say, there were many failures. Not that they would know this, of course, since they would be unable to read what I had scribbled on their parchments.

Harry peeked through my partially open door at exactly two o´clock.

I raised my head and gestured to the chair next to Albus. "Sit down, Harry."

He stared at me for rather longer than necessary before actually doing as I asked. I do not know which surprised him more: my use of his Christian name, or the fact that I had finally looked him in the eye.

Whatever the case, he watched me very closely as I put away the essays and pulled out a new stack of parchments from a hidden drawer. He looked at them as if they would surely explode at any moment. But I don´t think he really recognized them yet.

"Mr. Potter," I began, resorting back to his surname. "I´m not entirely sure how to say this to you..."

He actually snorted. I don´t blame him. I am rarely at a loss for words. When it does happen, the results are never pleasant, as he witnessed on his first evening back at Hogwarts.

"You...have a friend, Mr. Potter, who writes to you. Yes?"

His eyes grew wider, and he gasped. "Oh, no. Did...something happen to him? Please...is he..."

I waved my hand evasively. "No, of course not. Nothing happened to him." I paused, rubbing my throbbing jaw. "Well...certainly nothing that can´t be fixed."

He relaxed only slightly. "Then what..."

I leaned back in my chair, and studied his face. He had looked extremely worried as soon as I mentioned "Tiros." Harry really did care about him...me...but not me.

"Merlin, I can´t do this," I muttered. It was hard enough fathoming this day when all he had against me was the tragic error in his grandparents´ potion, and the mask I wore as "Professor Snape." He would eventually forgive me for his grandparents, and as he was an unusually understanding boy, I knew I could explain the necessity of the mask. But what about everything Black told me yesterday?

"Sorry, what was that Professor?"

It had to be done. Now. Before I could hurt him any more. I opened my mouth to tell him, but found my voice was physically blocked. I put my hand instead on the stack of letters. His letters. To me...but not to me. Why was my hand so unsteady?

Before my limb could object, I pushed the stack towards Harry, and pulled my hand away. He frowned at me, and turned the stack over. I watched him as he perused through the letters, his curiosity slowly changing to horror. His breathing was coming more rapidly. I didn´t realize, until I nearly blacked out, that I had myself been neglecting to breathe.

Harry...

He took a shuddering breath, meeting my eyes. "How?" It was a whimper. Harry...

No wonder Black didn´t want to do this.

I forced myself to swallow whatever it was that didn´t allow me to speak. Persistent thing. It came right back. But I had to say something. I had to. Harry expected me to. I owed him an explanation, at the very least.

I forced several chest-fuls of air in and out. I took a final breath and held it. Perhaps my voice would come out steady, with so much support. Perhaps not. Only one way to find out.

"You were three," I choked in a whisper. I couldn´t bring myself to make any sound. "I was in London. I saw you with your uncle, and your cousin. Your cousin was tormenting you...he stole your glasses. When I recognized you..." I had to stop when I ran out of breath. I tried my previous procedure once again, but it was no use. My body did not allow me to draw breath at my own pace. I didn´t think I could speak again. Albus could help, perhaps? Ah, but no. He was comforting Harry, and rightly so. I was the aggressor, after all. It was my fault. I should be able to handle this on my own.

But then I made my mistake. I looked at Harry. He did a noble job, trying to hold the tears back. But there was no way I could watch it and still speak. Not when I had caused them to fall..

He held his letters loosely in his fingers. "How could it be you? How? You hate me...You´ve always hated me...just because you hated my dad. And all this time...it was you? I trusted you...I told you everything...and you used it all against me. You...took every opportunity...to get me expelled...to make my life miserable. You made everything...ten times harder...you always seemed to know my weaknesses...and now...I know how you knew..."

It was beyond my capacity to speak now. I licked my lips. Why were they so salty?

"Why? Why did you do it? Did you think it would...make things easier? Make Potter´s life miserable...and you would be safe...from Voldemort? From the Death Eaters? Was that it?"

I mouthed `Harry´, but of course, nothing came out.

Harry rounded on Dumbledore. "And you knew? All this time...you let it go on?"

Oh, please. Don´t blame Albus, Harry.

Albus´s eyes swam. "Harry, believe me..."

Harry looked appalled. "No, I´m sorry, Professor Dumbledore. It isn´t you fault." The lad closed his eyes. He didn´t say the words, but I knew exactly how he must have felt. Betrayed.

He took in a loud breath and abruptly stood. "Please...may I go, Professor Dumbledore? I need to be alone."

"Of course, child..."

I couldn´t watch as he walked out, and pulled the door shut behind him.

Hermione bit her lip, and glanced at her watch for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last five minutes. It was after 4 o´clock, and Harry still had not shown up to the Keeper scrimmage. If Snape just wanted to talk to him, why would it take this long? Surely nothing could have happened to Harry on his way to the Quidditch pitch, right? Hermione rose from the bench, completely ignored by Ginny, whose eyes were fixed on her brother. Harry was likely just fine. Well...if you could call being stuck with Snape for two hours fine. But just to be sure, Hermione decided to inform McGonagall of Harry´s absence.

She made her way over to the Gryffindor Head of House, who at the moment was yelling up at Dean Thomas to keep his hands on his broom. Her teacher turned, vaguely startled, when Hermione tapped her on the shoulder.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Professor, Harry went to talk to Snape...I mean, Professor Snape...at two o´clock this afternoon, and I´m concerned because he hasn´t returned yet."

McGonagall stared at her student suspiciously, before her brow furrowed in what appeared to be sadness.

"Miss Granger, I believe that Professor Snape had some very important things to discuss with Mr. Potter, and I am not surprised that it is taking this long. If he has not returned by dinner time, I will go make sure that nothing has gone amiss."

"But Professor..."

"What is it, Miss Granger?" McGonagall looked extremely annoyed.

"Well...it´s just that..."

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said, as if she were speaking to a rather large and uncommonly stupid toddler, "if Professor Snape and Mr. Potter are still talking, you cannot disturb them. That is very important. Now, I am sure that Mr. Potter is perfectly safe. If he does not turn up in the next two hours, I will go to the dungeons to make sure that everything is alright. Now, return to your seat please, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked defeated as she turned around and sulked back to her companion. Minerva´s mind, on the other hand, was running in more directions than she thought possible. It was unlikely that anything had really happened to Harry, but with him, disaster was always a remote possibility. It was more likely that he and Severus were still talking. This was a big thing for both of them, after all.

But the more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed that the two would be discussing anything this long. Both Harry and her colleague were very private when it came to their emotions, and suddenly Minerva found herself praying that neither of them had done anything foolish.

Perhaps it would be prudent for someone to make sure Harry was alright. She could not do it herself: Madame Hooch was the only other teacher on the pitch, and Minerva could not leave her alone with all these Gryffindors. She knew how boisterous her charges could get.

"Miss Granger!" she called. "Here, please."

She watched as the girl walked swiftly back down the stands to her teacher. Minerva couldn´t simply send the child barging into Severus´s office, however. This was never a good idea, even if he was in a perfectly sociable mood...sociable for him, that is. She would have to teach Granger a new charm, but she knew the girl would be able to handle it.

"Miss Granger," she began as soon as Hermione had reached her side. "I want you to go to the Common Room, make sure Mr. Potter is not there. I also give you permission to enter his dormitory, and check for him. If you do not see him in Gryffindor Tower, proceed to search his other hiding places." She waited for some confirmation from the girl, which came in the form of a nod, before continuing. "If you still cannot find him, then, and only then, should you go down to the dungeons. Now, you will not be able to hear anything through the door, because your professor usually has a Silencing charm on it. But you will need to know if he is alone...because if he is not, Miss Granger, I don´t want you to disturb them."

Hermione frowned. "But Professor, how will I know if he´s alone if I can´t hear through the door?"

"You have your wand, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded.

"Then, when the time comes, point your wand to the door and say `Numero Populus´. That will tell you how many people are in the room. You may have to yell it out, since I am willing to wager that you have never cast this spell before."

Hermione nodded again.

"Now, if Professor Snape is alone, ask him if he knows Harry´s whereabouts. Explain the situation to him. Come back here once you have finished your search, whether you have found him or not. Understand?"

Hermione nodded.

"Off you go, then."

* * * * *

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. She had been searching for almost half an hour already, and no sign of Harry. She had already checked Gryffindor Tower, the library, the Great Hall, Hagrid´s hut (leaving Hagrid quite anxious), Moaning Myrtle´s bathroom, the Owlery, the kitchens (Dobby panicked), the Prefect´s bathroom (Hermione, in one of her more irresponsible moments, had told Harry the password), and the tunnel behind the statue of the old witch. There had been no trace of him anywhere. She had no choice now but to check Snape´s dungeon.

She descended the cold stone stairs to the dungeons with an increasing sense of foreboding. Although she knew that Snape was technically on the "good" side, she was certain that he would have no reservations about hexing her if she were going to interrupt something important. At least McGonagall had given her that charm. If Snape was alone, perhaps he would be more cordial.

She finally reached the thick oak door to the Potions classroom, and strained to hear any sound, lest Snape had neglected to cast the Silencing charm. She heard nothing.

`Might as well get on with it,´ she thought to herself, pulling her wand out of a robe pocket. She pointed it at the door, and, concentrating as hard as she could, spoke the words "Numero Populus!"

When nothing happened for several tense moments, she decided that she had not cast the spell strongly enough. She prepared to say the words again, more loudly, when a faint green mist materialized in front of her. She barely made out the number "1", before it dissipated into the surrounding air.

She let out a heavy sigh. She really wasn´t looking forward to talking to Snape, but she needed to if she wanted to be sure Harry was alright. She raised her hand resolutely and knocked before she could change her mind.

"In," she heard a silky voice say from the other side of the door. She turned the knob and poked her head inside the room to see her professor, jaw purple and swollen, stirring a boiling potion.

Snape looked up from his cauldron and glared at the student in the doorway. "What do you want, Granger?" he barked.

Hermione took a step into the room and shut the door behind her, so as not to irritate her professor further. Biting her lip, she walked the length of the classroom to stand in front of him.

"Well?" he hissed. "I´m busy, Granger. What do you want?"

"Well, sir, it´s just that...er..."

"Spit it out, girl." He was getting annoyed fast.

"Well you see, it´s just that no one has seen Harry since he came to meet with you at 2:00 this afternoon. We are all on the Quidditch pitch, for the Keeper scrimmage, and he was supposed to come as soon as he could. Professor McGonagall sent me to look for him, and she said that if I couldn´t find him elsewhere, I should check with you."

Hermione was astonished to see a fleeting look of concern (at least she thought it was concern) cross the Potions Master´s face. It was then that she noticed how red his eyes were. That was strange to see: the man was so used to being around potions that even during class, when most of the students were wiping their eyes from the fumes, the professor seemed perfectly healthy and content. Hermione´s mind told her that, in that case, the potion he was working on must be especially volatile, and she shouldn`t be inhaling the fumes. But, oddly enough, it wasn´t bothering her sensitive eyes yet.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, completely ignoring the fact that there was a student in the room who would be astounded to see such a gesture.

"Are you sure that you have checked every possible hiding place?"

Hermione nodded. "Everywhere I could think of..."

"And you have checked that infernal map of his?" he asked, rubbing his jaw.

Hermione gaped at him. How did Snape know about the map?

"Erm...no, sir. Mood...er...Crouch confiscated it last year, and Harry never got it back."

Snape rolled his eyes. Of course. It was typical. As soon as something that annoying became useful, it was nowhere to be found.

Snape had one more idea. "Did you check with the Headmaster?"

Blushing, she shook her head. She hadn´t thought of that.

Snape scoffed at her. "Into my office, Granger."

As soon as they had both stepped inside, he pointed to a chair, which she promptly sat in, and locked and charmed the door. With a flick of his wand, a fire appeared in the stone fireplace, into which he threw a pinch of Floo powder. Seconds later, the head of Albus Dumbledore appeared.

"Good afternoon, Severus, Miss Granger." Hermione could tell that his smile wasn´t exactly genuine.

"Headmaster, is Potter with you?"

The older man frowned. "No, Severus, he is not. I have not seen him since he left your office earlier this afternoon. Is something wrong?"

"According to Miss Granger, no one else has seen him since two o´clock this afternoon either. He never showed up to their Quidditch...fiasco," he hissed, waving his hand dismissively.

Dumbledore nodded and looked thoughtful. "Let me check something. I will get back to you in a few minutes," he announced, the twinkle returning to his eyes.

Snape scowled and threw more powder into the fire to keep the Floo connection open. He paced the length of his office, oblivious to the pair of young eyes watching him as a rabbit watches a wolf.

Finally, after a near eternity of waiting, Dumbledore´s head reappeared, wearing a twinkling smile. "Why don´t you check the Astronomy Tower, Miss Granger? Just below the supply room?"

She grinned, worry seeping from her veins, and nodded. Snape watched her scurry from his office, and then turned back to his mentor.

"How do you know where he is, Albus?"

"Oh...I have my ways..."

Severus sneered, and opened his mouth to speak. However, he found his words interrupted.

"Severus, I did not intend for things to turn out the way they did. But it is for the best that Harry knows the truth. He will come around, in time."

Severus only gave a resigned nod.

"Why don´t you come to my office after dinner for tea?"

The younger man nodded grudgingly. He usually didn´t refuse Albus´s requests, even if his better judgment told him he should.

He scratched his head. "Albus, I´m brewing something in the next room..."

"Alright, Severus, I´ll let you get back to it then. I´ll see you this evening."

Severus grunted and allowed the Floo connection to close. He arrived back in front of his potion in barely enough time to add the asphodel. He cursed his own negligence. He couldn´t afford to botch this potion now. He knew he would never sleep tonight without it.

* * * * *

Harry sat perched on the window sill of one of the empty rooms in the Astronomy Tower. He was watching the Keeper scrimmage, knowing he was supposed to be there, but unable to bring himself to join his classmates. He just wanted to be alone, and not have to think about anything. Unfortunately, thoughts of Tir...Snape...kept trying to invade his head. He pushed them furiously away, and opted instead to concentrate on Ron´s preliminary try-out. Though he was far away, he could tell that his friend was doing very well. He silently hoped that Ron would make the team. He deserved it, and maybe that would make Ron less jealous of him. Harry did not want a repeat of last year, when Ron had stopped speaking to him. After all, he wasn`t entirely certain that he would be able to handle it if it happened now, when he had no one to talk him through it.

Harry sighed and pulled his knees closer into himself. He folded his arms on top of them and allowed his head to droop. The tower was so high up. He thought about how free he would feel if he were out there, soaring down from the tower. It would all end so quickly, so easily...

Wait. What was he thinking? Suicide? Suddenly, Harry felt a pang of fear from being up so high. He leapt off the window sill and curled up instead against the wall. This was not good. He shouldn´t have thoughts like this: selfish thoughts...

Harry´s head shot up when he heard soft footsteps ascending the circular staircase. He would be in trouble if it was a teacher. Professor Sinistra did not like for students to be anywhere in this tower unless they were there for class. He scolded himself for not stopping at the dormitory for his invisibility cloak. He had not wanted anyone to see him and try to take him to the scrimmage. But now he would get caught. He clenched his teeth and waited.

"Harry?"

Harry let out the breath he had been holding. It was only Hermione. He didn´t particularly want to talk to her either, but at least he wouldn´t be in trouble.

"I´m here, Hermione," he answered.

He heard the door open and close, and looked up to see his friend rush over to him.

"Harry! We´ve been worried. What happened?"

He shook his head at her, and started drawing little patterns in the dusty floor with his wand. He wanted to tell her everything. She was sensible, after all, and might have something good to say about it. But at the same time, he didn´t want to have to say anything. Quite honestly, if he didn´t talk about it, then he wouldn´t have to think about it either.

He stopped scribbling in the dirt and looked up at his friend. She had her hand on his knee, and was watching him with a concerned frown.

"What did Snape say, Harry?"

What was the point of this charade? Knowing Hermione, she would find out anyway. Might as well be from him.

"I found out who Tiros is," he said, almost too softly for her to hear.

She looked curious. "Is that what Snape was telling you about?"

He nodded.

"Well...who is it then? What´s it got to do with Snape?"

Harry shut his eyes tight against the flood of emotions bombarding him. "Snape is Tiros."

Hermione´s jaw dropped. "What?"

"It´s true," Harry answered, his eyes still closed. He had already cried in front of Snape and Dumbledore. He refused to do it in front of Hermione. "He had every letter I´d ever sent him. And Dumbledore was there, too. He´s known about it since the beginning."

"Well...it´s good, isn´t it? That you know who he is? Snape can help you in person now...I mean, he obviously cares about you, and now you know that what he says to you in class is just an act..."

Harry glared at Hermione, flabbergasted. "How can you say that, Hermione?" He jumped up, and started pacing the room. "You don´t understand it at all. I´ve told him everything...EVERYTHING...my whole life. And all he´s ever done is use it against me. He pretended to help me, in his letters. But in person all he does is make things ten times harder for me than he has to. And Dumbledore has just stood by and let it happen! I thought I could at least trust him, Mione. But he´s just like the rest of them!" Harry threw his wand as hard as he could against the far wall. It bounced back and hit him square in the forehead. He stepped on it, actually hoping it would break. He was disappointed.

"He´s like the rest of who, Harry?"

"My parents, the Dursleys, Sirius, the Weasleys...Snape..." He couldn´t say it. He knew what he wanted, but he couldn´t make it come out. He wanted a normal adult in his life: one that wasn´t dead, or a fugitive...or one that didn´t hate him...one that he could still trust. Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley couldn´t be there for him all the time. They had their own children, after all. Perhaps Harry didn´t deserve it, but before he had found out the truth about Tiros, he had felt almost like he had something of a parent. He wanted that feeling back.

"Harry?" Hermione said tentatively, when Harry neglected to explain himself. "Listen, I have to go tell McGonagall that I found you, but I´m coming back, and then we can talk about whatever you want. Alright?"

He only stared at the wall.

"Harry..." Hermione sighed, and Harry thought that she would just get frustrated and leave him alone. Instead, she walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

"I´ll be back before you know it."

And twenty minutes later, she did come back, levitating a tray full of food that she had nicked from a very relieved Dobby.

"I didn´t think you´d be up to eating in the Great Hall..." she explained.

Harry almost smiled. He and Ron really were a bad influence on her. He sat down across from his friend, with the tray between them, and dug in.

And for the next three hours, the two friends just sat, nibbled, talked, and enjoyed one another´s company.