Talon and Tail

Chapter 10: First week

Post date: 11/17/16

On the morning of September 2nd, Harry contentedly buttered his fourth piece of toast and shot a grin at Ron across the table. He was flanked on either side by Ginny and Hermione, and was currently trying to listen to Ginny's excited babble about their Quidditch prospects for the year and Hermione's whispered commentary on the low number of first years simultaneously. Both girls fell quiet when Professor McGonagall suddenly appeared behind them, clearing her throat.

"Good morning Misses Granger and Weasley, Misters Potter and Weasley," she said primly, but there was a twinkle in her eye. "Your course schedules," she explained, passing them each a small roll of parchment. "Potter, Weasley, you both have a free period this morning and Professor Snape has granted his permission for you to retake your Potions OWL. I trust that you have prepared adequately?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," Harry answered quickly, as Ron nodded eagerly at his side, his mouth stuffed full of scrambled eggs. Harry glanced towards the staff table and saw Snape sitting there, deep in conversation with Flitwick. He was fiercely curious about whether the Potions Master had managed to track down Slughorn or not, but doubted that the man would freely offer that information.

When he turned back to face McGonagall, she offered the teens a curt nod. "Well, finish your breakfasts, gentlemen, and then off to the dungeons with you both."

As the witch strode away, Hermione immediately launched into a series of reminders. "Remember that for the Draught of Living Death, the root of asphodel has to be powdered, not chopped, or it might explode, and you have to peel the mistletoe berries in the Forgetfulness Potion or they won't have any effect, and –"

"Alright, Hermione, enough," Ron moaned weakly, anxiously massaging the back of his neck with long fingers.

Their brunette friend looked slightly miffed, but Harry offered her a small smile and said appreciatively, "Thanks Hermione, but we've been studying for days and you've helped us so much already – now we just need to get it over with, don't we?" He turned towards his redheaded friend and said, "C'mon, Ron, let's go down now so Snape doesn't have any excuse to dock House points for tardiness."

The lanky teen pushed his plate away and slowly rose from the table, looking grim. "See you later, 'Mione, Gin," he muttered.

Harry barely heard the two witches' good luck wishes, because he was completely distracted by a sight across the Great Hall when he stood. It was Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table; his chin was on Pansy Parkinson's shoulder and he was whispering into her ear as the dark-haired witch blushed and giggled. Harry thought he could almost see the blond's pink lips touching the girl's neck. The wizard who had been Harry's companion for so many weeks at Grimmauld Place now seemed like a total stranger. Harry couldn't reconcile this sleekly handsome wizard whose top priority seemed to be getting under Parkinson's robes with the serious teen that had studied Occlumency and Potions and practiced hand-on-hand combat with him.

Just as Harry was reflecting on how Draco's behavior seemed to have utterly transformed in a matter of mere hours, the blond looked around with the lazy air that only Slytherins could manage and caught Harry's eye. Suddenly, Malfoy's gaze became icy cold and Harry rapidly averted his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth creep up his neck. It didn't seem like Draco was just acting unfriendly, as Remus had suggested he would; there had been a thick current of anger in the teen's stormy stare. Thinking back, Draco's tone had also been rather hostile yesterday evening on the train, even when only Ginny was around. So much for the truce – maybe Draco regretted getting involved with the Order now that he was back at Hogwarts, among his old friends. Harry squared his shoulders and hurried after Ron, tossing Hermione and Ginny a quiet goodbye over his shoulder. Malfoy could take care of himself, if that was his preference.

But while he worked on his Potions OWL, Harry couldn't stop thinking about how Draco had demonstrated his changed behavior over and over again at Grimmauld. He was so distracted by the memories that he mindlessly wrote down the wrong response for the exam's question about the ingredients in Dreamless Sleep Potion three times in a row, and then nearly forgot to alternate stirs while brewing his Strengthening Solution. Finally, Snape called for the exam's completion, and Harry turned in a small vial of his orange-red potion. He knew the potion was a shade lighter than it should be, but he still felt rather confident, and he was cheered when he saw that Ron's Deflating Draught looked pretty good too.

It was proving to be an interesting start to the term, what with Draco's confusing attitude, the tense atmosphere in the Hogwarts halls, the surprising introduction of Tonks as the new Defense professor, and an exam on the very first day. Plus, he was still achingly curious about the Horcrux, yet there was no telling when Snape would see fit to reveal the strange word's significance. And, on top of everything else, countless Gryffindors he barely knew had been approaching him since dinner the night before asking for places on the Quidditch team. Harry hadn't even been back in Hogwarts for twenty-four hours, and already, it was pure chaos.

x.T.a.T.x

Severus paced quickly toward the Apparition point that was beyond Hogwarts' gates. He was increasingly hesitant about leaving the castle as the Dark Lord's power grew, but he knew that it would be a necessary evil the months to come. He fingered the vials in his deep pockets and futilely wished again that the Floo Network hadn't been compromised. At least soon, his visits to Grimmauld could be cut short. Remus and Jerome seemed to be healing nicely, and within a few weeks they would do well enough left to Molly Weasley's loving care.

The moment he passed through the gate that marked the grounds' boundaries, the dark-haired warlock spun on one heel and apparated with a tiny pop to the stoop at Number Twelve Grimmauld. He cast an anxious look over his shoulder and then stepped inside. At once, Molly Weasley bustled up from the kitchen with a bright smile in her face and a mug of steaming tea between her hands.

"Good evening, Severus," the matriarch whispered eagerly, holding out the warm beverage for him. "Tonks just sent a Patronus letting us know that you'd be here any moment – there are biscuits in the kitchen, but I know you're likely in a hurry, so I just brought you a spot of tea… It's frightfully cold out as of late."

"Thank you, Molly," he said tersely, accepting the tea. "You're correct; I want to be quick – I don't like leaving the castle for long with things as they are."

"Right you are, Severus," the woman said with a tremulous voice. "But everything's alright, isn't it? Ron and Ginny haven't yet written, since Dumbledore asked us not to receive many owls here."

Severus sighed. "It will have slipped his mind to instruct them that they could use the Patronus charm to communicate with you instead. I will ensure that the lesson is passed along, Molly," he said coolly, glancing past the witch down the hall. "But know that your children are well. Mr. Weasley has now advanced to NEWT level Potions and Miss Weasley brewed a rather exceptional batch of Soothing Solvent just this morning."

"Oh, Severus," the woman warbled, enveloping him in a warm hug that smelled of fresh baked biscuits. "Thank you, so much." She leaned back and wiped tears from her eyes. "I'll stop plaguing you with an old woman's worries, then, shall I? Remus and Jerome are right upstairs; they've changed into their own rooms now that they're able to move around a bit. I'll show you," she said brightly, still dabbing at her eyes as she turned to lead him up the stairs.

Severus went to Jerome's room first, and carefully examined the Muggle werewolf with the help of a few scanning spells. The man was quiet but watchful, tracking Severus's wandwork with attentive eyes. After a few minutes, he asked softly, "Am I healing okay? The werewolf stuff doesn't mess up the medicine, does it?"

"You're healing well, just a bit more slowly than I would have expected," Severus responded easily, before turning his mind to truly consider the rest of the older man's question. He hesitated for a moment before offering his hypothesis, which he had never before discussed with anyone. "It's interesting, really – I've learned how to tweak my brews for werewolves after a long relationship with your friend Lupin. But I've never worked with someone who's both werewolf and Muggle – I think your Muggle blood actually slows down the effect of the herb more than any of your lupine properties." Jerome raised his brows curiously, and Snape continued, "It's something I've seen with the Muggle-borns at school, in the hospital wing. The first years never respond quite as well to magical medicine compared with children from wizarding family. It's as though it takes some time for their bodies to adjust, but it all evens out after some time."

Jerome seemed to weigh the information in his mind before answering, "I bet You-Know-Who just uses that as another reason to say all of us nonmagical folk are useless, huh?"

"Not many people in our world would care to pay enough attention to Muggle-borns' reactions to medicine to even notice," Severus said tightly, rising from where he sat at Jerome's side. "I'll leave the rest of your potion with Molly," he commented as he walked to the door. "Just one more week should do it, I think."

He slipped down the hall and into Remus's room, greeting the werewolf warmly with a smirk and a drawled, "Good evening, Moony."

The thin man grinned in response. "Hullo, Severus."

Severus sat on the edge of the man's bed and began to administer the same scanning spells that he had used a few minutes before with Jerome.

"How's Draco?" Remus asked, eyeing Severus intensely.

"He's well enough," the man responded drily. "He's decided to run the gamut of coping strategies, snogging Pansy Parkinson, acting tough with Theo Nott, going flying by himself for hours every night."

"And you'll just let him get on with it then, will you?" Remus asked lightly.

"He'll break more easily when he's a bit tired of it," Severus retorted.

"And Harry?" Remus inquired. "You don't think he's getting close to the breaking point?" The wan werewolf struggled to sit up taller in the bed and lean in more closely towards Severus. "You don't think that it's past time that you tell him the truth about who you really are to him?"

The dark-haired wizard suddenly stood with jerky movements and paced anxiously across the room before whirling around to scrutinize his old friend. "I'm not ready," he said at last. "When I decided fifteen years ago – not to tell him…" He hesitated, but then finished firmly, "I knew it wouldn't be easy for either one of us. But, I knew it was for the best, at the time. Now, I'm reevaluating that decision, but it's still not time, yet."

"You mean when Dumbledore decided," Remus answered sharply.

"It was Dumbledore's suggestion, but my decision, Remus," Severus said tersely. "By any means, are you sure you're the best counselor on keeping secrets? Have you talked to Tonks recently, dear Moony?" he asked cuttingly.

"There's a war on, Severus," the man replied, abruptly looking worn, and much older.

"Exactly," Severus said smoothly. "Exactly." He paced to the door, but looked back before exiting the room. "I promise that I'll tell him soon. But not yet."

Remus's only reply was a soft nod. Severus knew that the other man could understand his doubts all too well.

x.T.a.T.x

Draco shifted out of Pansy's vice grip under the pretense of pulling out parchment and a quill, and he surreptitiously eyed the so-called Golden Trio across the room through his blond lashes. The three teenagers were jubilant; Harry seemed to be telling his two friends some sort of joke and Draco watched as the dark-haired wizard elbowed Ron in the ribs and the redhead doubled over in laughter. Draco had heard the two wizards excitedly sharing their news with some Gryff buddies over lunch – it seemed they had passed their Potions OWL re-take a couple days before and would both be in the NEWT-level course on Friday, mostly likely along with Granger, too, he presumed.

Of course the Gryffindor wonder boys had passed it, Draco thought sourly, due to his and Snape's tutelage. But the lessons with Potter in Grimmauld Place seemed like a distant memory. Here at Hogwarts, everything was different. Potter had taken the first chance he had out of Ron's sight to cozy up to the Weaselette, whom Draco had always suspected Harry was interested in. Then, his Head of House had visited the Slytherin common room on their first night back, as always, but his gaze had slid easily over Draco as if he were any other student. Wasn't Snape supposed to be his guide in the castle, his connection to the Order? Meanwhile, Pansy was particularly poisonous lately and more determinedly intent on romancing him than ever, Theo was constantly hissing in his ear about the Dark Lord's plans, and Crabbe and Goyle had abandoned their normal posts by his side to flock behind Nott instead.

Draco knew he should have been more prepared for the start of his sixth year, but after several weeks in the Black ancestral home, he felt ill equipped for the decidedly harsher reality that Hogwarts had in store for him. Since hearing that Tonks was the new DADA professor, however, he had steeled himself for the encounter with his Metamorphmagus cousin in the different setting. His Slytherin companions knew his family history almost as well as he did, and Draco was aware that he had been on trial with the other Death Eaters' children since the moment he had set foot in the train station – the first Defense class of the term was no exception.

It should serve as evidence of the force of his resolution that Draco was able to manage such a fierce glower for the Metamorphmagus when she tottered into the classroom, three minutes late, in the form of a wizened old witch, complete with a gold-plated cane. At the table front of him, Theo tipped his head back with a smirk and muttered, "Blood traitor alert…" Draco felt himself tense as Pansy responded to Theo's comment with a throaty chuckle, and he quickly rearranged his face into an expression of revulsion. "It's disgusting," he murmured in reply.

At the front of the classroom, Tonks slowly unfurled the parchment with the roster of Gryffindor and Slytherin students and began to croak out the names of Draco's classmates. Between each name, she scrunched up her face and morphed her nose; although the laughter in the classroom became increasingly pronounced, however, her own wrinkled face remained staunchly serious. When the young woman called "Draco Malfoy," her brilliant blue eyes rose to meet his steel gray ones for a long moment before she donned a pig's nose and continued on to "Theodore Nott."

Finally, Tonks finished taking roll and the parchment and cane disappeared with a snap of her fingers. Rising to her full height, she loudly declared, "Welcome to NEWT-level Defense Against the Dark Arts!" and then rapidly morphed into her more familiar pink-haired and youthful self to a round of admiring applause. "I'm Professor Tonks, and as you may have guessed by now, I am a Metamorphmagus, but I am also an Auror for the Ministry."

The young woman drew her wand and with a silent spell and no explanation, she dimmed the classroom's lights so that she was barely visible. Draco raised a blond eyebrow, and fingered his own wand, ready to cast a Lumos or a Protego if he felt either was prudent. "Dumbledore has invited me to Hogwarts this year to help you all get ready for the NEWTs," she continued, her clear voice resounding even more strongly in the darkness, "but more importantly, I am here to prepare you for action in the face of You-Know-Who's rise."

Immediately, whispers broke out in the dim classroom, but when the lights abruptly turned on again in full force, the students instantly fell silent. Draco peered around at his classmates and saw a myriad of uneasy faces watching Tonks with trepidation. Across the room, Harry was particularly severe, and Hermione and Ron were both examining him anxiously. After a long moment, Tonks began to speak once more. "Our first unit of study will be Concealment and Disguise. Perhaps you do not have my unique advantage in the area," she remarked calmly, "But nonetheless, you will all learn how to recognize and dismantle the disguises of others, and how to safely conceal yourselves as necessary. Now, who can explain for the class how Polyjuice Potion works?"

x.T.a.T.x

Harry pored over the pages for Quidditch tryout signups that he had pulled from the message board just a few minutes before. With Alicia, Angelina, Fred, and George all gone this year, the team would be starting almost from scratch. He knew he had to let people try out for Keeper too, just to be fair, even though he hoped Ron could continue in the post.

With so many positions that needed to be filled, he had expected for several of his housemates to sign up, but this was ridiculous. It looked like almost everyone from second to fourth year was on the list, and a few new names that he was almost positive were first years. He sighed; he would have to ask McGonagall to reserve the pitch for several hours.

"Wotcher, Harry," Ginny saluted him enthusiastically, flopping into the armchair beside his.

"Adopting Tonks' preferred greeting now, are you?" He asked with a smile, glancing up from the stack of parchment.

"You've already had her, right? My year's got her class tomorrow morning with the Ravenclaws. I just know it's going to be great!"

"Yeah, it was good," Harry responded, thinking about how Tonks had reviewed the major differences between long-term use of Polyjuice Potion and semi-permanent glamour charms in their class that morning. "I think it'll be really useful," he added thoughtfully.

"Dean said he liked it too," Ginny informed him. "I'm looking forward to it. We're also both looking forward to Quidditch tryouts, Captain!" she said cheekily.

"Both of you, huh?" Harry asked speculatively, glancing over to where Dean was in an animated conversation with Ron across the room, by the fireplace. "You two are getting pretty serious, then?" he asked, looking into Ginny's soft brown eyes.

"Well, don't tell Ron," she answered sharply, but then she softened. "But yeah. He's a good guy, Harry, and he's serious about getting ready for the war and all that. He grew up around Muggles, and he pays attention to stuff – he knows how bad it's getting," she explained seriously. Then her face brightened and she added with an exaggerated wink, "And he's a damn good Chaser."

"Well at least I know you're both serious about it," Harry groaned. He felt a sense of immense relief at her response about Dean, for some reason. He knew Ron had been hinting heavily that he should make a move, but Ginny was like a sister to him, and he was grateful that he could trust her to have his back on the Quidditch front. "I don't know who half of these kids even are," he whispered, gesturing helplessly to the tryouts list.

"Everyone wants to see the Chosen One in action," the redhead smirked.

"I just hope it's not a total failure," he said darkly, casting a nervous glare at his younger housemates, who were scattered about the room.

x.T.a.T.x

Severus pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders. Although it was only September, the night air had been cooler as of late – not everyone had the insight that he did to realize that the shift in the climate was due to increased breeding of dementors. Yet, for the third night in a row, Draco had left the castle under the cover of darkness to come here, to the Quidditch pitch. Tonight, Severus was surprised to find that the boy wasn't searching the night sky for his silver snitch, but rather, was repeatedly hurling the bright red Quaffle through the goalposts.

"Considering a change in position, Mr. Malfoy?" he called up.

It was to his credit that Draco didn't seem startled by his presence. He landed with a soft thud and responded, "My father has always maintained that the Seeker is the most honorable player."

"You would make a good Chaser," Severus mused, eyeing the teen. "You have a mind for relational strategy."

"Thanks," Draco answered sullenly. At Snape's raised brow, he grudgingly added, "Sir."

"I've noticed that you've opted to continue your interesting arrangement with Miss Parkinson again this year." Severus had always suspected that Draco wasn't truly attracted to Pansy, and instead used her as a defense mechanism. The blond's continued relationship with the brunette gold digger despite everything that had developed over the summer confirmed his theory.

"And?" Draco spat venomously. "We've always had a mutually beneficial understanding in the past."

"Simply another observation of your preference for interpersonal strategy, Mr. Malfoy."

"But of course, Professor, you've always had a knack for observing things from the sidelines, haven't you?" Draco drawled in a manner eerily reminiscent of Lucius.

Snape sneered. This was why he had waited three nights to engage in conversation with the boy, although he knew that Draco had noticed him standing in a corner of the pitch the previous nights as well. "Come then, Mr. Malfoy, no need to sugarcoat it; tell me how you really feel. Does it scare you, being all by yourself in a dormitory surrounded by Death Eaters? Tempted to run off and tell the Dark Lord all about your new pal, the werewolf, are you?"

The boy's cheeks turned pink and his gray eyes flashed. "Go fuck yourself. You may have hooked me up with the Order but I do not need you," he hissed vehemently.

Severus had never felt prouder of his unofficial protégé, and he leaned in until his lips were less than an inch from Draco's ear. He paused a moment until he heard the young wizard's heartbeat increase, and then spoke fervently. "Don't ever forget that while you have had to act the part on your own for all of a week, I have had to do so for almost twenty years. We all have our parts to play in this, but you should thank Merlin that you have no idea what it means to be truly be alone."

With that, he spun on his heel, taking long steps across the damp grass. Just before he was out of earshot, he called back, "Five points from Slytherin for cheek. And detention

x.T.a.T.x

Harry nervously approached the gargoyle that stood guard in front of Dumbledore's office, still unsure if he was doing the right thing. The first week back at Hogwarts was drawing to a close, yet his Headmaster hadn't shown any signs of wanting to call a meeting. Even Snape, with whom he had unexpectedly spent so much time over the past several weeks, had been silent and distant. After the revelation of the prophecy just a few short months ago, he had expected more guidance... And when he brought it up to Ron and Hermione, they had both been just as confused about the Headmaster's silence as he was, which was what provoked him to come here now, looking for Dumbledore. He wasn't ready yet to hound the Potions Master for answers, but he was getting close to it.

Harry thought he heard a shuffling noise behind him and turned, but saw nothing. It must just be nerves making him paranoid – lately, he found himself wondering more and more frequently if he really knew the Headmaster at all, and it was starting to get to him. But he knew he needed to at least try to get more information.

"Alright," he sighed, eyeing the stone gargoyle. "Fizzing Whizbees?" The statue didn't move. "Chocolate frogs? Cockroach clusters? Sugar quills? Acid pops?" Suddenly, he remembered seeing Dumbledore back at Privet Drive, unsticking two yellow candies and offering Harry one between black, wasted fingers. "Lemon drops!" he declared, and immediately the gargoyle shifted aside so he could ascend the circular staircase.

As he quickly climbed the stairs, he pondered what he would say, and kicked himself for not planning it out more thoroughly beforehand. Really, now that he knew about the prophecy, he wanted to know what exactly that meant for the rising war. Wasn't there a plan? He slowly knocked on the thick wooden door, and suddenly wondered if Dumbledore would even be there.

But within a moment, he heard the Headmaster's familiar voice call, "Come in, Harry."

"Hello, Professor," Harry said quietly, slipping into the room. Glancing around, he noticed with some shame that the space was looking a bit sparse. It seemed that Dumbledore hadn't bothered to replace several of the knickknacks that Harry had destroyed in his rage at the end of the previous year.

"Have a seat, Harry. Would you like a cup of tea?"

Harry sank into the cushy armchair in front of Dumbledore's desk and shook his head. "No, thank you, professor, I've only just had lunch."

"Perhaps just a lemon drop, then," the old man said, reaching over to press one into Harry's palm. "Now, what can I do for you?" He inquired, studying the teen through his half-moon spectacles.

Harry struggled to start, but then it came out in a burst. "Sir – I've just been thinking – you told me about this prophecy, and how either Voldemort or I have to kill the other, but I don't know how I'm supposed to do that. I know I've been up against him before but every time I've had so much help, and I've just been lucky, really, haven't I? And in the meantime everything's getting worse; Diagon Alley was practically deserted in the summer and Mr. Weasley was telling me about how tons of wizards have disappeared lately… And S-Sirius is gone, and now Moody, and Remus got hurt. I mean, I know the Order is trying to help, but it seems like the war is really getting underway now… And here I am back at school, for what? Just for NEWTs? I want to help too, Professor – I know I don't know as many spells as Tonks and the others do, but I can brew a couple good potions now that Snape's taught me, and I can help at Headquarters…"

Harry broke off when he saw Dumbledore looking at him with a faint smile and softly shaking his head.

"I admire your humility, Harry, and your dedication," the Headmaster said gently. "But your place is here. It's what Sirius would have wanted, and what all of the Order knows is for the best. Even Tonks chose to be here this year, because we know that as this war unfolds, all of Hogwarts will need to be prepared to make wise choices."

"It seems like she's teaching us stuff similar to how the Aurors are trained, sir. I know that will be helpful, but should she really teach that to all the little Junior Death Eaters?" Harry asked, barely concealing the bitter tone in his voice.

"Do you think there are so many among us?" Dumbledore raised a brow. "And do you think they are undeserving of an opportunity to change their minds? And even if they choose to continue following Voldemort, they are still just children. It is not for us to deny them the knowledge of how to protect themselves, and in time, as they realize the true monstrosity of their chosen master, they may yet come to reason."

Harry thought of Draco, and how much the teen seemed to have suffered, and bowed his head. He supposed Dumbledore was right – everyone deserved the chance reconsider their decision. The wizarding world had barely recognized Voldemort's return, and it was logical that many wizards would still be figuring out what that really meant.

"Harry," Dumbledore was now saying kindly, "I know that the prophecy is a weight on your shoulders, and it is for that reason that it was so hard for me to share it with you – although I recognize now that my hesitation was unfair to you. But it would be erroneous to think that in order to defeat Voldemort you must become a master of dark magic as he has, or that you should leave school in order to study dueling strategy full-time, or anything of the sort."

"Sir – I didn't mean – of course I don't want to study dark magic –" Harry sputtered.

"Perhaps these are abstract examples – they are ideas similar to those that occurred to a younger Albus, however, when he was faced with the dark wizard Grindelwald," the Headmaster said gravely. Harry's surprise must have been evident on his face because Dumbledore nodded softly before continuing. "What I mean to suggest, Harry, is that which I explained to you at the end of last term. You are already the owner of a power that 'the Dark Lord knows not,' and that, my boy, is your ability to love. You've just been demonstrating it again, in fact, in your selfless desire to help the Order."

Harry felt the familiar pang of intense frustration unfurl in his heart. "But sir, how do I develop a war strategy from love? There has to be something more I can do, something tangible to try and face him…"

The same small smile appeared once more on the Headmaster's face, but this time, it almost seemed condescending to Harry. "Leave the strategy to me, Harry. I daresay I have a bit of time left in me yet. There may indeed come a day in which you find yourself at the helm of this ship, but on that day I promise that your path will stand clear. Until then, I urge you to focus on your Occlumency studies – Professor Snape has promised that your lessons will resume, and he is a true master, from whom it should be an honor to learn."

Harry was about to protest, but Dumbledore must have seen it in his eyes, because he raised a hand, gesturing for continued silence from the teen.

"And remember, Harry, I beg this of you not to offend, but because of love. I loved your parents dearly, and I know they would have wanted you to have as much of a normal childhood as possible. Please don't run towards battle too quickly. Remember, my boy, the prophecy has already told us… on that day when you finally face Voldemort for the last time, it won't come down to whose wandwork is better. It will always be love."

The teen bit his lip and responded quietly, "Thank you, sir." What could he say to that? He had learned the lesson well enough this summer –when one means failed, that just meant it was time to try another. He knew he wouldn't be getting anything else out of Dumbledore, but that meant he had to go to someone else instead. And he already knew just who it would have to be.

"Run along, then, dear Harry. I would hate for you to be late for Potions; Professor Snape is ever so impatient about tardiness."

Harry needed no further encouragement, and he muttered, "Thank you, Professor," before tearing down the circular staircase and across the castle towards the dungeons.

When Harry slid into the classroom two minutes late, out of breath and panting, and heard Snape's silky, "Five points from Gryffindor and detention tonight for your tardiness, Mr. Potter," he didn't even get mad at the exaggerated punishment. Time one-on-one with Snape was exactly what he needed.

x.T.a.T.x

Author's note: First off, a big thank you to all the new people who have favorited and followed the story! And an especial thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter :-) We'll have Friday night detention with Harry, Draco, and Snape in the next chapter – should be fun, right? Review and tell me what you expect/want to see, and let me know how you like seeing our favorite guys back at Hogwarts! There's tons of tension at the moment: so, do you love it, hate it, want more of it? Review, please, and let me know your thoughts. :-)