"Where's Snape?" Harry asked Ron as he threw his backpack underneath his desk and quickly set up his cauldron. "He's never been this late before."

"I don't know," Ron replied. "Nor do the Slytherins. They were just wondering the same thing." The red-haired teen helped Harry arrange his vials and Potions supplies.

"It is very odd," Hermione remarked as she lit the metal burner underneath her cauldron with a practiced flick of her wand. "It isn't like him to leave the door open and not be in here waiting for us."

"I wonder if class has been cancelled?" Neville asked hopefully. Trevor, whom Neville had taken to keeping in a cage with black iron bars to keep him from escaping, gave a loud croak.

"Doubtful," Hermione replied with a sigh. "The door would have been locked when we got here. And I think we would have been told before now if that were the case."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and a few other Slytherins whispering and talking amongst themselves. Every once in a while, Malfoy would glance in Neville's direction and smile nastily. Harry narrowed his eyes. Whatever it was they were talking about over there, he was certain he didn't like it.

Malfoy saw Harry looking at him and sneered. Just give me a reason, those cold gray eyes seemed to say.

Suddenly, Malfoy whipped out his wand and shouted "Accio, cage!" The cage with Trevor inside sailed through the air and into Malfoy's outstretched hands before Neville could react.

"Keeping your little toad in a cage?" Malfoy said, his lip curling. "Like a bird? Can you make it sprout feathers and sing for you, perhaps?"

"He cages it 'cause he can't keep up wit' it," Goyle said nastily.

"Give him back, Malfoy!" Neville cried out. He rose out of his chair, as did the other Gryffindor boys.

Malfoy cackled and waved his wand over the cage. "Pennarea!" he shouted, and yellow and white feathers sprang from the toad's back.

"Now sing, little bird," Malfoy taunted as he poked Trevor with the tip of his wand. The frog opened its mouth and started making strangling sounds that reverberated through the room.

"That's enough, Malfoy!" Harry shouted. "Give Neville back his toad! Now!"

"Oooo, are you going to make me, Potter?" Malfoy said nastily.

Enraged, Harry started to storm over to the Slytherin side of the room, as did many of the other Gryffindor boys. Ron rolled up the sleeves of his robe and balled his fists.

Unperturbed, Malfoy dangled the cage over his cauldron, which was filled with boiling water.

"One more step, Potter, and Trevor becomes boiled frog legs," Malfoy purred.

Harry and the others froze and exchanged uneasy looks. Now what? Harry fingered his wand, wondering if he could draw and aim fast enough to Summon the cage before Malfoy dropped it.

Thinking the same thing, Ron whipped out his wand and aimed it at the cage, but before he could cast anything, Malfoy tossed the cage two rows over to Pansy Parkinson, who caught it and squealed with malicious glee before tossing it to Tracey Davis, who tossed it to Theodore Nott, who tossed it over his back to Millicent Bulstrode. Around the room the cage went, with a very distressed Trevor banging against first one side of the cage then another, all the while croaking and gracking in fear.

Harry had had enough. He and Ron led the charge of Gryffindors over to the Slytherin side of the room.

"Malfoy!" Ron hollered. "You bullying git! Give that back!"

"Try to take it from us!" Malfoy shot back.

"Come on Malfoy, give it back to them! What if Snape comes in?" Parvati Patil implored.

Hermione stood up and joined the Gryffindor boys, her face set. "He'll take points off Gryffindor and lecture us for causing trouble, no matter what happens. We have nothing to lose!" Parvati and Lavender Brown looked at each other, shrugged, and joined the fight.

Pandemonium ensued, with Hermione, Neville and Harry struggling to get the now airborne cage back, while Ron, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender scuffled with the Slytherin students.

Harry saw the cage fly back into Malfoy's hands and he fought past the other students to get to him, upsetting two cauldrons in his haste. Ron, Hermione and Neville followed close behind.

"This is enough, Malfoy!" Harry snapped, and he held out his hand for the cage.

Malfoy started to throw the cage, but Neville, Ron and Hermione penned him in so he couldn't throw over their heads. Ron reached out a hand to grab at the cage, and Malfoy pulled it just out of his reach. But in the process, the cage slipped from Malfoy's hands, plummeted, hit the edge of Malfoy's cauldron with a metallic clang, and teetered, threatening to fall in. Trevor croaked in terror and leapt at the bars of his prison.

"Oops," Malfoy said lazily, and the heel of his hand sent the cage plunging into the boiling cauldron.

"TREVOR!" Neville screamed as he pushed forward and tried to stop the cage from falling in. Malfoy grappled momentarily with Neville and easily knocked him to the ground.

"You did that on purpose!" Ron snarled, and while the Slytherin's attention was on Neville he grabbed Malfoy from behind and put him in a choke hold....

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE???"

The fighting instantly ceased, and twenty heads slowly turned towards the entrance, where Snape came striding in like a dragon looking for a kill, his cold eyes glittering in fury.

"Can anyone explain to me," Snape queried in a quiet deadly voice, the voice he usually only used when he was threatening the students with some terrible punishment, "why I have arrived to find my classroom in a complete uproar?" He started walking towards the front of the room, his footfalls punctuating his words. And for once the glares he shot towards both sides of the room seemed to encompass the Slytherin and Gryffindor students with equal menace.

"Why must I witness complete chaos when I arrive a few minutes late, detained by an important meeting with the headmaster?" He reached his desk and whirled around to face the class. "Don't just stand there! Back to your seats! NOW!"

Everyone hurried back to their seats, except Neville, who picked himself up off the floor and and tried to shove past Malfoy to get to his toad.

"Longbottom! I told you to get back to your seat!" Snape snapped impatiently.

"But ... but...." Neville spluttered in terror.

"Back. To. Your. Seat. Now." Snape said, and he advanced on the round-faced teen and towered over him. Neville shuddered, but did not back down. Snape's glare turned more menacing than the students had ever seen it. "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor, Mister Longbottom. And wipe that smirk off of your face, Malfoy, I will not tolerate...."

Snape stopped suddenly as he noticed the cage in Malfoy's cauldron. In one quick motion he drew his wand and inserted it in between two of the bars, and he lifted the cage out of the water and peered at it. Neville groaned as he saw his toad Trevor, covered with yellow and white feathers, dead.

"Is this yours?" Snape said menacingly. Neville nodded, too numb to speak. "And how did your...canary...come to take a steam bath in Mr. Malfoy's cauldron?"

"It's not a canary, it's a toad!" Harry interrupted hotly.

"Malfoy made it grow feathers and tipped it into the cauldron," Dean spoke up. "On purpose!"

"Potter and his gang tried to attack me!" Malfoy retorted accusingly, and he rubbed a spot on the back of his neck.

"You had it coming!" Harry shouted, his cheeks flushed. "You took Trevor in the first place!"

"Potter started it!" Pansy said nastily. "He took the cage and threw it at Malfoy."

"I DID NOT, AND YOU KNOW IT! YOU'RE LYING!" Harry shouted.

"Don't you dare accuse...!" Malfoy began. The rest of his sentence was drowned in the ensuing uproar as the Gryffindors and Slytherins all began accusing and shouting at each other.

"SILENCE!" Snape shouted wrathfully, sending sparks flying from his wand, which was still hooked through the bars of Trevor's cage. "Stop this! Stop it immediately!"

The students fell silent. Harry glared at Snape, wishing he could throw the creep into Malfoy's cauldron and boil him, just like Neville's toad....

"Longbottom! Take your ... creature ... and resume your seat," Snape ordered, extending the cage to him.

With trembling hands, Neville took the cage with the deceased feathered toad and shed silent tears for his pet. Behind his back Malfoy pointed at him and snickered while Harry silently thought about throwing Malfoy in the cauldron along with Snape.

"The rest of you return to your desks, and stop wasting class time," Snape continued. "If I hear so much as one word spoken out of turn from any of you ... and I mean ANY of you," and here Snape fixed both his Gryffindor and Slytherin students with a black glare, "you will be serving detention. For a week! Do I make myself clear?" Silence. "Do I???"

A chorus of muttered, resentful "yes sirs" sounded across the room.

"Crystal clear, professor," Malfoy said, his tone sacchrine but his gaze nearly as dark as Snape's. "You are the master here. We really shouldn't be shirking any of our duties to the greater cause of learning what's important now, should we, sir? I apologise for letting a petty, silly distraction get in the way, but it happens sometimes to the best of us, doesn't it? Sir?"

Snape and Malfoy engaged in a staring contest for several seconds. The Potions master's expression was unreadable, but Harry suspected that Malfoy had just said something that had ... rattled him? No, impossible! But Harry hoped briefly that perhaps Snape would, for once, make good on his promise and give Malfoy a detention. The detestible little rich snot more than had it coming, after what he did to Trevor. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Neville tenderly removing the dead toad from its cage and trying to hold back his tears. Hermione, Dean and Seamus were trying to console him while occasionally casting icy looks in Malfoy's direction.

I hope Malfoy gets detention, Harry thought. Come on Snape, let him have it.

But the hope was in vain. Snape silently broke off the staring contest and turned to the rest of the class.

"Today," Snape said quietly. "We are going to learn to make the most basic in a long line of destructive Potions. We are going to learn how to make a simple volcanic ash mixture. Attention to detail is crucial -- one slip up, one moment of inattention can lead to disasterous results."

The rest of the class period was tense, the atmosphere heavy with resentment. Althought it was one of their trickiest, most dangerous Potions to date, few students had their minds entirely on their work. A number of hateful glares passed between the Gryffindors and Slytherins and between Snape and Malfoy.

All things considered, there were no major accidents, only a couple of close calls. One was when Goyle let the volcanic ash mixture boil too long, and great, billowing black and green clouds started coming out of his cauldron. Malfoy managed to reduce the heat in time, but Harry noticed that the rim of Goyle's cauldron had melted. Neville also had some trouble when he accidently dumped too much carbon powder into his cauldron. The small "boom" that followed rattled Harry's teeth and everyone's nerves and sent Neville sprawling, but Hermione, as always, saved the day by adding a good deal of flobberworm mucus to Neville's potion to thicken and dilute the carbon. The potion ended up a complete failure, which Snape spent a good five minutes sneering over, but at least no one had been harmed.

After what seemed like an eternity, the class finally ended. There were a lot of dark looks exchanged between the Slytherins and Gryffindors while bags were restuffed and cauldrons cleaned and put away. Harry just knew there would be fireworks later -- and he was looking forward to it. From Ron's expression, the red-haired teen was just itching for the chance to pulverize Malfoy and his goons. Neville's expression was set, his mouth a grim line. He had placed his deceased toad back into the cage.

"Don't do anything stupid," Hermione whispered to Harry, Ron and Neville as they started out the door.

"Stupid?" Ron whispered back. "Like what? Beating the snot out of ferrett-boy? That sounds sensible to me!"

"Ron...." Hermione implored, but it was too late. The four students rounded the corridor near the stairs leading to the main part of the school and were confronted by Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Bulstrode.

"Sorry about your toad, Longbottom," Malfoy said in a tone that was anything but contrite. The others around him chuckled nastily.

"What purpose did it serve, Malfoy?" Neville asked quietly. "Why did you have to do it?"

Malfoy never got the chance to respond. Ron charged at Malfoy, who drew his wand and cast a stream of red and silver sparks at him. Hermione barely had time to pull Ron back, but by this time, Harry had also pulled out his wand, and he nailed Malfoy with a tentacle snare. Several tentacles sprouted out of the walls and ceiling and coiled around the pale-faced teen, who spluttered in outrage and fear. The other Slytherins started to charge....

"Finit Incantatum!"

Oh no, Harry thought. The tentacles around Malfoy exploded in a puff of silver smoke as the nine students turned to see Snape swooping down on them like a great black raptor.

"My office, Potter. Now!" Snape hissed softly. "Casting in the corridors is strictly prohibited, as you have been told repeatedly in the past."

"But sir...." Hermione started to protest.

"I did not ask for your input, Miss Granger!" Snape said nastily. "I advise you to hold your tongue unless requested to do otherwise. Potter!"

His blood boiling, Harry followed Snape back down into the dungeons, the cackling of the Slytherin students following them in mocking waves of glee.

They reached the office, and Harry immediately started to protest even before Snape took his seat behind the desk.

"I was just trying to...."

"Silence," Snape snarled, and he sat down. "I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses. I know you think that you are better than everyone else, that you are above the rules. And you think that because you have been pardoned before, you can get away with anything."

"BUT MALFOY STARTED IT!" Harry shouted.

"Malfoy started it? Is that your excuse, despite the fact that you have been warned about this before?" Snape queried threateningly. Harry flushed. Actually, it was Ron who had started the fight in the hallway, but Harry wasn't about to tell on his friend. And besides, it was Malfoy who had started the fight in the classroom by killing Trevor.

"You have just cost your house 60 points, and earned yourself a detention, Potter," Snape said smoothly. "You have been told before that spell casting is not permitted in the corridors, and if I catch you again, it will be a week's worth of detentions."

"And what about Malfoy?" Harry asked between gritted teeth. "Why isn't he in here too?"

"Malfoy is none of your concern," Snape replied, his black eyes glittering. "You would be well advised to stay out of his way, lest you lose more than house points."

"It's not fair!" Harry shouted furiously. "Malfoy killed Neville's toad, then he tried to cast something ...." here he paused. Again, Harry remembered he had better not to say too much or he could land Ron in hot water.

"You will serve your detention tonight at six o'clock," Snape said coldly. "Perhaps then you will learn to curb your insolent tongue...."

"It's all right for some, isn't it?" Harry continued to rant, heedless of the increasingly dark expression on Snape's face. "Malfoy can do whatever he wants, and you turn a blind eye to it, even when he kills a familiar! And that's not only breaking the school rules -- that's breaking the law!"

"I'm warning you, Potter...." Snape's eyes glittered with barely contained fury, but the words kept tumbling out of Harry in a raging torrent.

"Yeah, Malfoy's a special case, isn't he? Just like me! You're always talking about following the rules, but the rules don't apply to your precious Slytherin house do they? You've only got it in for me because of some old grudge you have against my dad..."

"For the last time, little boy," Snape said, and he uncoiled from his chair like a great black snake, towering over its prey. "Be silent now, or it will be a week's worth of detentions and a hundred more points from Gryffindor!"

"I don't care what you do to me," Harry said in a low, angry growl. "Your threats are empty and your punishments mean nothing, because they aren't fair and everyone knows it. I don't care about your stupid point system anymore because it's corrupt and twisted, like you." his face twisted in a snarl that nearly matched Snape's own. "You Death Eaters have to stick together, don't you?"

Snape's face turned almost as white as the chalk on the chalkboard in his classroom. His hands were clenched so tightly that Harry could see the veins throbbing underneath the skin.

"So," Snape finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. It seemed as though only the merest thread of self control was keeping him from snapping. "You no longer care about the point system, do you? You think my threats are empty, do you? We'll see about that. You will serve your detention tomorrow instead of tonight. At 1 o'clock. In the afternoon."

Harry's heart sank to his feet as he realized what Snape had just said. "But 1 o'clock tomorrow ... that's the Quidditch game. Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. I'm on the team. I have to be there!"

"Oh really...?" Snape purred, with phony surprise. "Well, I guess Gryffindor will have to make do without their Seeker then, won't they?"

"But..." Harry stammered in disbelief. "You ... you can't do that!"

"Can't I?" Snape lifted an eyebrow.

The teen boiled with outrage. "I'll ... I'll go over your head. I'll appeal to McGonagall! I'll go to the headmaster! You can't force me to miss a game!"

"But I thought you don't care what I do to you?" Snape retorted with a sneer.

Harry glared up at him hatefully, wishing he had a handful of darts right now.

Seeing that Harry had realized the hopelessness of his position, and that he was firmly in command of the confrontation, Snape calmly resumed his seat. In an insufferably smug tone he said, "Speak to whomever you wish, Potter. But I can assure you that it will not avail you."

Harry glared at Snape with pure malice and curled his fingers into his palms. I don't care what anyone says, he thought. I know what you are and I know who you work for. And very soon, I will show everyone the truth.

"You will report to me tomorrow at 1 o'clock, and do not be tardy or you will regret it."

"How long am I going to serve detention? Sir?" Harry asked with smoldering resentment, wondering if Snape could force him to miss dinner too.

"However long it takes you to compose a little essay for me. I want three scrolls...."

"Three scrolls???" Harry croaked out in disbelief. Three scrolls! That would almost certainly take him the entire game to write...and then some!

"...On the importance and characteristic of the ingredients in the polyjuice potion," Snape continued. "Polyjuice potion is something you are exceedingly familiar with, is that not true, Potter?"

Now it was Harry's turn to pale. How could Snape possibly know about how he, Ron and Hermione had conspired to make polyjuice potion during their second year? Had Malfoy figured out that he and Ron had temporarily become Crabbe and Goyle? Had Moaning Myrtle snitched on them?

"You will learn respect, Potter," Snape declared, waving a hand in dismissal and smirking. "Now get out of my sight. Unless, of course, you want to continue this conversation and miss every Quidditch game for the rest of the school year."

Without another word, Harry turned and stormed out the door. He headed towards McGonagall's office as quickly and as purposefully as a Bludger Bolt.

****

Professor McGonagall was preparing her afternoon tea when Harry knocked on her door.

"Enter," she called out as she Summoned her teacup, saucer and plate of gingersnap biscuits to her desk.

Harry opened the door and walked rapidly over to her desk, his face slightly red with anger and the rapid pace he took to get to the deputy headmistress' office.

"Why Potter," McGonagall said mildly. "You look rather hot and bothered about something today." She tapped her teakettle, which was gold with red trim and red lions that strutted around the base. The kettle rose into the air and poured steaming hot water into her matching red and gold teacup.

"Sna... Professor Snape's given me detention," Harry complained. "Tomorrow afternoon! During the Quidditch match! It was over a fight. Malfoy started it, but...."

"Yes, I have heard about your quarrel with Malfoy from Professor Snape," McGonagall said. She raised a hand as if to stop the torrent of words. Meanwhile the tea kettle finished pouring and lowered itself back onto a round red and gold cloth potholder on her desk.

Harry stared at the deputy headmistress in shock."You already know? But ... but...."

"There are very few things that are kept hidden for long in this place, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said crisply. "I feel sometimes the stones themselves eavesdrop and absorb information like the Weasley twins' little listening devices -- something else that is supposed to be a big secret, I'm sure."

All Harry could do was gape as McGonagall continued.

"I'm sympathetic, Mr. Potter, I truly am," McGonagall said. "I have no doubt that Malfoy deserves punishment as well, but there's nothing I can do about it since I did not witness the fight. And I would rather not lose this match and chance losing the Quidditch cup without our Seeker. But on the other hand, you do need to learn to control your temper. Mouthing off to a professor is not the best way to handle a disagreement."

"But Malfoy...."

"I have already told you, I cannot do anything about him because I was not there," McGonagall said firmly.

"But couldn't you at least talk to Snape about moving the detention date? Please?" Harry pleaded.

McGonagall shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's out of my hands, Harry. I don't have jurisdiction over what other professors decide to do in regards to punishment, provided that it does not violate the Hogwarts disciplinary code. Let this serve as a lesson to you. Sometimes the most prudent thing to do is to keep your tongue in your head. Tongues can be most bothersome and even dangerous when allowed to wag about." Harry started to protest, but McGonagall again raised her hand. "And while I don't always agree with Professor Snape, I must admit you and Mr. Weasley have been behaving rather rudely toward him of late. Perhaps this extreme lesson will teach you the benefits of thinking before speaking and the prudence of remaining silent."

Harry's shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, a note of sympathy creeping into her voice.

"No," Harry said dully, deciding that McGonagall would never believe him if he told her about his suspicions regarding Snape's true loyalties. "No ma'am." He slowly walked out of the office like a prisoner marching to the scaffold, and he wondered bitterly why life was so unfair.

McGonagall stared after him, sipping her tea slowly and thoughtfully. Perhaps Snape was right, she thought reluctantly. Perhaps Harry and his friends needed to learn a lesson in respecting their elders, even if...she sighed. Even it meant losing the Quidditch cup to Slytherin this year, and listening to Snape gloat for the next six months.

****

"Oh bloody hell!"

"Now what?"

"We'll lose for sure!"

Harry had just finished telling his teammates about Snape's detention, and their reactions were exactly as he expected.

"Well, we might as well just forfeit," George said gloomily. "We don't have another Seeker trained up, and there's no way we can win!"

"There is no way we are forfeiting," Alicia said firmly. "That'll give Ravenclaw 100 points and us none towards the House Cup."

"Besides," Ron added. "Remember the World Cup last year? Ireland won, despite the fact that Krum caught the Snitch."

The others stared at Ron.

"Right," Ron said, and his ears turned bright red. "Well, maybe we are doomed. So, what are we going to do, Alicia?"

"Try not to lose too badly," Alicia said gloomily. "If we can hold them to winning by only 40 points or so, that will still keep us in the running for the cup. Ravenclaw won its last game with Hufflepuff, but it was close, 150 to 170. Chang almost didn't catch the snitch in time to save them from a humiliating defeat."

"Yes, but Boot was sick that day, and his replacement was terrible," said Katie Bell.

"Well, he'll be playing tomorrow, and he's Ravenclaw's best Chaser," Alicia said. "Slytherin beat Ravenclaw, but that was a pretty close game, 140 to 190. Hufflepuff is pretty much out of the running this year and we're still first, but Slytherin's only 60 points behind us, and Ravenclaw only trails Slytherin by 40. We can't afford to give away too many points."

"So what's your strategy? How are we going to keep them from mauling us?"

"You could do what the Chudley Cannons always do. Drag the game out as long as possible and hope the fans give up and go home before the inevitable defeat," Hermione suggested.

Ron glared at her, and there was a chorus of groans from the other students.

"Unfortunately, she's right," Alicia stated. "We'll have to go heavy on the defense, keep them from scoring and keep Chang from getting the Snitch. We'll drag out the game for as long as possible. It's our only hope."

Harry agreed that Hermione was probably right, and that maybe, just maybe if the game went on long enough Snape might get tired of tormenting him and set him free in time to rejoin the team. Maybe, yeah. But not likely.

"Drag out the game? You've got to be kidding," Angelina moaned. "We've never done that before!"

"How long are we talking about dragging this out anyway?" Ron wanted to know. "Because we could end up losing by more than a hundred, if we can't outscore them, and we might end up worse off than if we simply forfeitted."

"We've got to hold them back for as long as possible, so that when they get the Snitch, it doesn't put them ahead by too much," Alicia responded. "The Ravenclaw team is focusing primarily on speed and scoring with its Chasers, who work pretty well together. Their Keeper is pretty agressive, too. But their Beaters are fairly new, and they don't work well as a team over the long haul. The team in general doesn't have the stamina for a longer game, which is how Hufflepuff was able to catch up towards the end there. Remember, they were expecting to be facing Harry and a relatively short game. We need to exploit that."

"Well, it would be much better if we did have Harry, wouldn't it?" Ron said shooting an accusing glare at Harry.

"Hey, it's not my fault Snape's got it in for me," Harry grumped. "I'm sick of taking his..."

"I know how you feel, okay?" Ron interrupted. "And I'm not defending him. And I'm not saying that this is your fault. But 'You Death Eaters have to stick together?'"

"You really shouldn't have said that, Harry," Hermione agreed sternly. "You are as bad as Ron sometimes!"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Ron exclaimed indignantly.

"At least I didn't call him a Voldemort-loving Death Eater freak!" Harry protested.

"Oh," said Ron, his ears turning beat red.

"Look, I'm just trying to tell you, both of you, that going off on Snape like this isn't going to help. Because who's going to listen to you when ... I mean, everyone's going to think that you're just making accusations because you hate him."

"Well, it's the truth, isn't it?" Harry snapped viciously. "We all know what he is!"

"Was," Hermione corrected firmly, giving Harry a look of warning. "People can change you know."

"Hang on a minute," said Harry, staring suspiciously at Hermione. "How did you know what I said in Snape's office, anyway? Were you listening in?"

"Well we were both waiting for you in the hallway and we couldn't help but overhear part of your coversation, since the two of you were shouting," Hermione replied matter-of-factly.

"Actually, you were doing most of the shouting," Ron clarified.

"Ron, Neville and I intended to stay behind to see how things turned out, but then Filch came by and told us to move along."

"Regardless," Alicia cut in sternly before Harry could retort. "The fact remains that Potter is out of the game. We'll have to work around it. But Harry? Do us all a favor and try not to get under Snape's nose before the Slytherin match? Or we can kiss the Quidditch cup, and most likely the House Cup, goodbye!"

"Oh, who cares about the bloody Quidditch cup!" Harry snapped. He stormed out of the Gryffindor Common room and down the hall leading to the exit, muttering all the way about the unfairness of the situation and how even his own friends didn't understand.

****

As she was leaving her office, Aurellia Deveroux saw Professor Snape striding down the corridor towards her with a purposeful grin on his face. It was the sort of set-jaw, determined, I-want-something-and-I’m-going-to-get-it-one-way-or-another smile that reminded her of Luk whenever he was about to ask a big favor of her, like borrowing money to help with a "project." Her cousin could be a terrible spendthrift and had little concept of the word "budget." Money mattered less to him than friendship, and his choice of friends was at times rather questionable—not that Luk had ever been one to listen to sound advice from his adopted father, especially on that subject. Luk prefered to take life as it came, rather than to meet it head on with a planned course of action. And this tended to exasperate his younger cousin to no end. But Aurellia had always forgiven her free-wheeling, generous cousin, for Luk had always paid her back, down to the last pence--eventually. But then as soon as he had paid up he would start borrowing again.

Aurellia sighed.

Luk...

No. She would not think about Luk. That was the past. This was the present. Aurellia gave herself an internal shake and proceeded to stare at the approaching Potions master through narrowed eyes.

"All right, Snape, what do you want?" Deveroux asked suspiciously, getting the distinct impression that Snape was up to no good. "I already told you that I don't mind you using the practice alcoves in my classroom for Scattershard practice as long as you take proper safety precautions and don't sic them on me again."

Snape put on a look of feigned injury that did not quite mask the obvious fact that he was here because he wanted something, not because he liked the company.

"Miss Deveroux, your manners seem somewhat lacking of late. Whatever happened to 'good day, Professor Snape?'" the Potions master responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, in the first place, you troll-headed twit, the last time we talked you practically threw me out of your office and told me to get out of your life. And in the second place, well, I think I've already covered the Scattershards."

"I never asked for a Watcher, little Miss Deveroux, and my resentment at having been assigned one without my knowledge has not diminished in the least," Snape retorted nastily.

"Believe me, Your Pure-Blooded Wizarding Self-Sufficiency, if you had been the one that asked instead of Dumbledore, you would not have a Watcher right now, I assure you!" Aurellia snapped back, her temper once again getting the better of her. Why was it that she could have a civil conversation with almost anyone else in the school, even Draco Malfoy, but every face-to-face meeting between herself and her assignment invariably seemed to end in bile and bloodshed?

"Then why don't you quit?" came the low, venomous reply.

"Because I can't. I am bound by a solemn oath." And if only I had known what I was getting into...

"The Watcher's Vow, yes I know. But vows may be broken. Heaven knows His Vile Lordship has left enough of them strewn and shattered on the ground in his wake."

"And I am sure that he would never admit it--he probably no longer even realizes it--but he has paid a terrible price for each and every vow he has broken."

Snape shrugged carelessly. "Whatever price you would have to pay, Miss Deveroux, I am sure that it could not be as bad as the current circumstances in which we both find ourselves. And for what it is worth, you have my blessing to quit."

"You want the truth? Your blessing isn't worth a knut, Snape. I..." hate you. Why can't I say it?

Snape waited with an inscrutable expression for the elf to finish her sentence. He reminded Aurellia very much of Venator with his arrogant, standoffish attitude, the day she had purchased the owl in Diagon Alley. I don't give a rat's whisker whether you take me or leave me, he seemed to say.

Snape, on the other hand was thinking not of his new owl, but of his old master, and the last face-to-face conversation they had had.

"I wonder...Do you know what I think? I think that you hate me."

"It is a little more complicated than that..."

Why, Snape wondered, couldn't anything in his life ever be simple and straightforward?

"I'm stuck." Aurellia said at last. "Until Dumbledore decides otherwise. I won't go back on my word. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. And you were right. You should have had some say in this. I never should have taken the Watcher's Vow without telling you first."

"Your apology isn't worth a knut, Miss Deveroux, and I know that I am right. I am, however, somewhat surprised to hear you admit it."

Aurellia glared at Snape, hating his insufferable arrogance, his sneering tone, his intellectual snobbishness... "So why are you here if you are so eager to kick me out of your tiny little, tunnel-visioned, world-revolves-around-me life?"

"Because...I need a fly. I will be unable to attend the Quidditch game tomorrow, but I would like to...listen to the game."

"And you would like for me to either send a second fly to the game, or to carry one with me and attend. Your fly would act as the receiver while mine would be the sender."

"Yes."

"Slytherin is not playing tomorrow. I thought you only cared about the game when your team is playing," Deveroux pointed out in a mildly curious tone.

"I wish to...familiarize myself with the strategies the other teams may use against mine."

Suspicion fairly dripped off the Defense teacher's tongue. "You could accomplish that more effectively if you simply went to the game."

"My dear Miss Deveroux," Snape pointed out in a disdainful tone, "Perhaps your teaching duties and administrative responsibilities are light enough that you may take as much time as you wish for fanciful entertainments. That is most certainly not the case for the Potions master of Hogwarts. You may not realize this, but in addition to babysitting brats in classes and detentions, settling any petty squabbles and disputes which the Prefects cannot handle, and reading and grading endless scrolls of substandard homework, I am also responsible for supplying the infirmary with any special medications Madam Pomfrey may require above and beyond the ordinary goblin deliveries. Not to mention...a few additional robes that I have undertaken to wear of late."

"Yes, alright, you're more frazzled than a billywig in a whirlwind these days, what with war preparations. You don't have to belabor the point." Deveroux still suspected that Snape had not told her the whole story, but decided against questioning further. After all, what harm could it do if his real intent was to spy on her, not the Quidditch match? All she had to do was to tell her fly to break the connection, and then Snape would get a nice eye and earful of ... nothing.

She passed her wand over the doorknob, murmured a few words, and the door opened before her.

"You ought to keep that locked with a key as well, Miss Deveroux. Even the best security charms can be broken with time and persistence."

"And did the lack of a key stop the Weasley twins from breaking into your office as well?" Deveroux retorted sweetly.

Snape said nothing in reply as he was assaulted by a blast of warm, humid, flower-scented air. He scowled and retreated a few steps toward the winter chill of the hallway.

"Hold on," Deveroux called out as she went to her desk. "This will only take a second."

"Are you hatching a dragon egg in there, Miss Deveroux? You must know that dragon eggs are a Class A untradeable item."

"I know the law, Snape. That's why I'm here, remember? Well, one reason, anyway. And I don't have any dragon eggs in here. This is the way I like my office. Yours would give a Yeti frostbite in five minutes flat," Deveroux retorted as she opened her lower left desk drawer and picked up a palm-sized fly. "Ah, here it is." She walked back out to where Snape was standing, which was several paces away from the door and down the hallway.

"Really, Snape I'm beginning to think you're a snowman in disguise. Afraid you'll melt at a normal room temperature?"

"Fire salamanders would not even consider your office 'normal room temperature'. Good evening, Miss Deveroux," Snape said, practically purring. "I will see that the fly is returned to you promptly after the Quidditch match tomorrow."

"Right," Deveroux responded, her eyebrow arching. "I'd appreciate that."

Snape turned and started walking back down the corridor, and was it Aurellia's imagination, or was he chuckling?

****

Harry woke up early the next morning in a foul mood. The day looked to be a clear and sunny, if bitterly cold one, for a Quidditch match. Harry's destination, however, would not be his beloved Quidditch pitch this afternoon, but instead it would be the cold, damp, miserable dungeons with Snape. Well, at least the dungeons matched Harry's mood.

The black-haired teen dragged himself out of bed and slowly got dressed. The hourglass on the mantle showed the time to only be a quarter till 8, and he was certainly in no hurry. Ordinarily, he would have been up already and downstairs in the Great Hall eatting breakfast, then heading out to the pitch for a couple hours of practice and planning before Ravenclaw took the field. Harry sighed dolefully as he put on his black schoolrobes and looked longingly at his red and gold Quidditch uniform and Firebolt, which lay neatly in his trunk. His mood darker than ever, Harry grabbed the textbooks he had checked out on Potions ingredients for his detention essay and headed down the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room...

... where he nearly ran into Fred and George Weasley.

"Fred! George! What are you doing here?" Harry exclaimed. "Alicia will have your hides if you're late!"

"No joke, sleepyhead," George said quickly. "That's why we've got to hurry!"

"We were coming to wake you up," Fred added.

"Well, it's not like I have anything to wake up for this morning," Harry snapped. "Just detention with that greasy-haired, slimy...."

"Yeah, alright, we know already," George interrupted. "That's why we're here. We wanted to give you something that might ... prove useful."

"We can't use it because it would get us expelled," Fred said.

"So if you get in trouble, say you bought this at Zonkos, got it?" George said.

"Right," Harry said, a puzzled look on his face. "So, what is it?"

Fred pulled out a small silver ink bottle.

"It's disappearing ink, Harry," Fred said. "Specially made by the recently disbanded..."

"And greatly lamented..." George added.

"Weasley Wizard Wheezes," Fred finished. "As I said, we don't dare use it."

"Because we're head-over-heels in trouble with Mom right now," said George.

"I heard the Howler...Howlers," Harry pointed out.

"Right," said Fred. "So you understand our situation. But we're here to show you that we sympathize with yours."

"We thought that you might like to put this disappearing ink to use," said George. "Here's how it works. You write with it like any other type of ink, and it will show up regular enough. But in one half hour exactly...."

"We timed it to the minute," Fred interrupted.

"The ink will disappear, and you are left with a blank sheet of paper," George continued.

"Snape'll kill me," Harry murmured, realizing what the twins were suggesting he do during his detention today.

"Yeah," said Fred. "But either place you end up after that can't possibly be as bad as detention with Snape."

"True," said George. "And if he doesn't kill you, then maybe you'll get to serve some detentions with us."

"Thanks George, but I think I'd rather not. Besides, Snape isn't as dumb as Lockhart. He would never have us serving detentions on the same night. He knows he'd be hopelessly outnumbered."

The twins chuckled.

"So, will you use it?" said Fred. "'Cause if you aren't going to, then we'll give it to Lee. He's planning on faking a Valentine card from Malfoy to Miss Deveroux."

Harry snickered. "Better yet from Malfoy to McGonagall."

"No way!" the twins exclaimed simultaneously.

"She'd know right away we were behind it somehow," said Fred.

"And she'd tell Mom," said George.

"And we'd get another Howler," said Fred.

"I think I'd rather be expelled," said George.

"How about Trelawney, then?" suggested Harry.

"Good idea," said Fred as George whooped with laughter. "She's so dense, she'd fall for it, and might even be flattered! I think I'll suggest it to him. Just make sure that you save some of that ink for Lee, okay?"

Harry's face lit up. The day didn't look quite as gloomy as before. "Okay, I'll make sure I return it when I'm done having fun with it. Thanks, guys! Do you know, I think I'm actually looking forward to this detention now!"

"Don't mention it," George said. "Figured you could use a pick-me-up."

"And we could all use a laugh," Fred added. "Just remember," he advised with a wink, "Have fun. Be creative. And make sure that he only finds regular ink bottles in your bookbag when he checks."

"Because the next Hogsmeade weekend will be too late for the Valentine's Day prank," said George.

"And we really like you better alive," said Fred.

"Right," Harry said. "And you two had better get going before Alicia hexes you for being late."

The twins hastily departed, while Harry threw his bookbag on one of the common room tables and studied it carefully. He finally took out his wand and carefully cut the seam on the side just enough to fit the invisible ink bottle in between the outer and inner layers of fabric. He resealed the opening with his wand and double-checked his regular supplies: a full ink bottle, his regular quill and spare quill, five rolls of parchment paper, his new Marvin's no-rub ink eraser, and his texts.

Harry smiled broadly, something he thought he would never do that day. He was ready for 1 o'clock this afternoon.

End of Chapter 22