Quid 2, Posts 36 - 40
Title: Quid 2
Series: Posting 36 - 40
Pairing: Threesome: S/H/D
Posting began: August 22, 2006
Posting ended: April 7, 2007
Warnings, etc.: See Post 1
Quid 2, Post 36
Hufflepuff Bravery.
**********
Gavin Bennett didn't know what to do. He knew that his nervous behaviour was being blamed on the fact that he'd been isolated from his House-mates.
In actual truth, he wasn't all that bothered by the reaction of his House-mates. Staying angry demanded a lot of negative energy and Hufflepuffs were not known for being able to maintain anger for any length of time.
His dilemma stemmed from the fact that he needed to approach Harry, to talk to him without chancing that anyone would overhear what he had to say.
Normally, this would not be a problem, but after the Headmaster's little speech, the katzentisch was under scrupulous observation. And it wasn't as though Hufflepuff shared many classes with the other Houses. It had always been paired off with Ravenclaw, and neither Zeffy nor Kitty could help him in this.
The three of them sat together in Arithmancy, at the back of the room. Not their usual seats, but Professor Ethelred didn't comment. He just nodded to them and started the class.
It wasn't until he was going to Ancient Runes as the other Seventh Year class, composed of Gryffindor and Slytherin, was coming out that he saw an opportunity. Knowing he might not be able to get this close to Harry throughout the day without arousing suspicion, he decided to take a chance.
Making his way through the small crowd, he grabbed Harry - surprising the hell out of him, as Harry went for his wand before realising who had him - and rushed him into one of the small niches nearby that had once held some decorative feature. There, in front of everyone who had stopped to see what Gavin was doing, he planted on Harry one of those passionate kisses that were the staple of the romance novels so popular with the upper years' female students in his House.
Harry was so stunned that he didn't move, which allowed Gavin to murmur in his ear, "Get Snape out of here. Now. His life is in danger."
When Gavin stepped back, Draco was there, livid, scowling at him. "Have you forgotten the anti-poaching rule already, Bennett?"
Gavin ignored the wand in Draco's hand. He tried to put all the urgency he could drum up into the look he sent Harry. "I mean that," he said.
As he turned to leave, there was a sudden silence so that the words, "Fag slut," were easy to hear. Gavin's breath caught in his throat but he didn't stop. As he went to join his classmates, someone else added loudly, with malicious glee, "That one needs to be castrated."
Gavin wanted to go for his wand. He had heard worse in his time, at home and in his village. But he'd always thought that, here at Hogwarts, it wouldn't happen. He planted one of his coldest smirks on his face and turned to deal with the speaker.
Harry beat him to it. He'd pulled away from Draco, and Lavender Brown suddenly found herself with a wand under her chin, facing a white-faced Harry Potter.
"I don't think..."
Gavin didn't know that Harry could speak so softly and yet sound so very dangerous.
"...you, of all people, Lavender Brown, should pass judgement on anyone for their sexual behaviour. After all, if fags like us should be castrated for so-called promiscuous behaviour, what should we do with bitches in heat like you? Got any idea?"
Lavender had lost all colour but now she looked as though the only thing keeping her up was Harry's wand under her chin.
It was Neville who dared approach Harry; Draco looked as though he would prefer to be the first in line to deal with either Gavin or Lavender.
"Harry. Leave it be. It's not worth the trouble. Besides, everyone's upset about Professor Snape."
There was absolute silence while Harry took his time to think about that.
Finally, he nodded and stepped back, dropping his wand hand to his side. "Don't ever get in my face again, Lavender. Next time, Neville might not be around to stop me."
With that, Harry turned and pushed his way past the others. Draco nodded and thanked Neville as he followed him. As he passed in front of Gavin, he hesitated long enough to hiss, "We're going to talk about this," then continued, using his elbows to clear the way.
Neville's loud exhalation blew the bangs off his forehead. "That was close."
Blaise, who had been watching Gavin, ambled up to the man and whispered, "What the hell was that all about?"
Gavin licked his lips and tried to call up enough saliva to speak before deciding that it would be better to remain silent.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Gavin looked around at Zeffy and Kitty who were watching him, worry plainly written on their faces.
Gavin shrugged and moved into the classroom. No one got in his way. No one said anything.
He took the last desk in the room and tried to get his heart to stop racing. Would Harry believe him? Would he do as Gavin had told him?
He dropped his face in his hands, not surprised to find, when the lecture started, that he was sitting alone.
**********
Quid 2, Post 37
Harry's Decision.
**********
Harry knew Draco was peeved, but he needed to think about what Gavin had told him.
At breakfast, Neville had been the one to point out that Gavin was alone in his exile, that all the others were paired off save Gavin. Harry had looked at the Hufflepuff and wondered that he was taking it so hard. Then the Headmaster had spoken and wiped all thoughts of Gavin out of his head.
The morning's classes had been a little more tense than the norm. In front of their classmates, Hermione made a production of offering him her sympathetic understanding - accompanied with a sneer at Draco who was standing by his side - then snubbed him when Harry didn't come running back to her side. Ron had shrugged and followed her, his face flushed.
Neville and Blaise had taken the desk on the other side of Draco and Harry, discussing the return of Slughorn and wondering what kind of detention Blaise would have to serve with the former Head of Slytherin. Harry's revelation that he had to serve his with Trelawney had elicited groans and ohs of revulsion from those around who'd heard.
"That's a bit much," Blaise had commiserated. "Neville's got Sprout, not that he wouldn't be there anyway."
Draco had finally revealed that his were assigned to Filch. Harry was willing to swear that even Hermione had winced for him as that made its way through the classroom.
They'd been more relaxed going out than they'd been going in, which was probably why Gavin's actions had so stunned Harry.
The kiss had been one thing. Harry had had time only to be thankful Gavin hadn't used tongue when the Hufflepuff broke off the kiss to whisper in his ear.
"Get Snape out of here. Now. His life is in danger."
Before he'd had time to question Gavin, Lavender had opened her big mouth and Harry had allowed his bewildered horror out in the form of anger. Thank Merlin that Neville had stepped in, otherwise....
Harry gestured to Draco that they needed to talk privately, in their room.
Draco looked as though he didn't want to wait that long but finally nodded. After class, he headed to their tower. Harry waited until he was certain no one had followed Draco to go join him.
As he closed the door to their room, Draco flared. "What the fuck is between you and Gavin? If I bore you, Potter..."
"SHUT UP!"
The last time Harry had spoken to Draco in that way had been before their stay in the Chamber. It took Draco aback. He gaped silently at Harry.
Harry took out his wand and cast a silence-ward on the room. Draco slowly sat down on the end of their bed and waited, eyes watching warily as Harry cast a second ward.
"Harry?"
Draco suddenly realised that this was more than the usual precautions. Something was up, so he waited until Harry had cast yet a third ward.
"Paranoid, aren't you?"
"Maybe. But if Gavin's right..."
"Gavin?" Draco felt an eyebrow rise at the mention of the Hufflepuff's name. He'd liked Gavin and had to admit that he felt betrayed by his action that morning.
"The kiss was a cover." Harry paced the room, thoughts obviously not on Gavin.
"Cover for what?" With Harry nervous like a cat in a room filled with rocking chairs, Draco slipped his wand into his hand, hiding both behind a drape of his robes. Harry in this mood was volatile. Better safe than sorry.
Harry came to a sudden stop and then went to stand in front of Draco. "He said that Severus was in danger and to get him out of Hogwarts now."
"WHAT!"
Harry nodded. "That's what he said."
"How... What the hell is he talking about?" Draco stood up and began pacing. Harry sat down.
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "But I got the impression that he was truly serious. Draco..."
"What?" Draco snapped.
"Stop pacing and start thinking."
"Thinking about what exactly?"
"Why maybe we all suddenly fell asleep at the same moment. Why maybe Severus suddenly had a relapse."
Draco closed his eyes. "And why the hell none of us woke up when Severus began screaming. Pomfrey heard him and she wasn't even in the same room." There was silence as they both thought about that. "So you don't think we're imagining a situation here?"
Harry shrugged. "Gavin seems to know more than he's saying."
"I could get him to talk." Draco caressed his wand.
Harry shook his head. "I have a feeling he's told us all he thinks he can safely tell us. Else why would he have warned me the way he did? But right now, he's not important. Severus is. What if Gavin is right? What if Severus's life is in danger?"
Harry turned to face Draco, who was staring pensively up at the ceiling as though looking for an answer. "What are we going to do, Draco?"
**********
Quid 2, Post 38
The Queen Cat.
**********
Only after a long, stern talk with himself did Gavin decide to try and locate this particular hallway.
Once he'd taken that decision, there was the matter of getting here without anyone seeing him, which meant a lot of ducking into shadows and, if he was fortunate, empty rooms in order to let people by.
It was late and now he had the added worry of the time element: he couldn't be caught out of Hufflepuff territory after curfew. Certainly not now.
Or would that be the better solution to this whole problem? Immediate expulsion would take care of his dilemma neatly and quickly.
He shook his head. Tempting as that was, he'd already rejected that option and he was going to stand by it. Stand by his new friends.
He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. What if he'd made the wrong choice? What if she couldn't be trusted? Hell, it was bad enough that he felt he couldn't go to Sprout with this. She was an excellent Head for Hufflepuff. A wonderful teacher. But he felt she was really too naive, too...Hufflepuff to deal with this...evil.
He'd been pacing back and forth in the shadowy hallway for over an hour and he still hadn't been able to walk up to the door and knock.
He stopped to stare at the bloody thing with great dislike. What if she wasn't even there? So many of the professors spent evenings in their classrooms. But before coming here, he had checked hers, seemingly looking for help, but there had only been a couple of Ravenclaw Seventh Years, practicing their spells.
Maybe he should just forget the whole thing. Maybe he should go back to his dorm and get into bed, pull the covers over his head and perform Obliviate on himself. Maybe...
The door opened and Professor McGonagall stood there, watching him.
"Perhaps I should take the decision away from you, Mr Bennett, and just tell you to come in."
He actually felt relieved. "Yeah, perhaps you should."
She opened the door wider and invited him with a gesture of her head.
Gavin passed her, hoping that this was the right thing to do.
"Please, sit down, Mr Bennett. I think you'll find the couch very comfortable."
That he hadn't even noticed the make-up of the room told Gavin just how worried he was. He never entered a new room without checking out the decor. It revealed so much about the person it housed.
This one was pretty much what he'd have expected, if he'd thought about it. The furniture was old, more from use than real age, with comfort as its major requirement. There was surprisingly very little plaid in the room. After nearly seven years of seeing it draped over the Professor's shoulder at official events, he recognised the McGonagall tartan on some of the pillows that accented the dark green, comfortably padded couch and armchair, but had trouble identifying the different tartan that made up the curtains.
"It's the Lindsay plaid, for the Crawfords who are my mother's people."
Gavin nodded. The rest of the room was neatly cluttered with books piled on the high shelves, a vase of dried heather at the corner of what seemed to be a writing desk, some pictures of highland scenes grouped together on one wall. A battle shield that looked as though it had seen its fair share of service held the place of honour over a mantle that supported small portraits of what must be family.
Funny, he never thought of his professors as having family.
The floor was covered by a hodge-podge of Persian rugs, some large, some runners that had been thrown every which way over the largest one.
There was a welcoming fire blazing happily away on the hearth.
"I think tea is in order, Mr Bennett. You look cold."
Gavin sat down on the couch that faced a low table and the armchair nearer the fire.
As she took the armchair, Professor McGonagall called out, "Archy! Tea, please, and something to nibble."
In a flash, a house-elf appeared, carrying a tray with all the requirements for tea, and a plate of small sandwiches with another of a variety of biscuits.
"Thank you, Archy."
The house-elf gave a dignified little bow and disappeared.
The whole thing reminded Gavin of why he was so hesitant about being here.
As she poured tea, Professor McGonagall said calmly, "I noticed that you didn't eat much at supper, Mr Bennett."
Gavin shrugged. He hadn't been able to swallow much; his stomach hadn't liked having anything in it.
She handed him the cup and he noticed that it was fixed the way he liked. His hand dropped and he stared at the cup that the Professor was still holding out to him. "I've been keeping an eye on all of you at my katzentisch, Mr Bennett. I told you that you were to consider yourselves under my care and I meant it. I do still mean it, Gavin."
Gavin met her eyes and waited for his stomach to tell him if this had been a really bad idea. The Professor waited patiently, until his hand reached up and took the cup and saucer away from her.
She poured her own cup - she took it black - and sipped while Gavin stared into the depths of the cup in his hand.
Suddenly, he knew he had to trust her. There was no one else.
He took a mouthful of tea and swallowed, feeling the liquid work its way down his throat and settle in his stomach, spreading its soothing heat.
"Gavin, I take my promises most seriously."
He examined his cup as though he'd never before seen it. "If I ask you to promise not to repeat something..."
"Then I will keep my promise, should I make it."
Gavin understood the condition. "I think," he offered hesitantly, "it's not you that I mistrust..."
She placed her cup down on the table and settled her hands on her lap. "Whom do you mistrust, Gavin?"
He returned the cup to the table and looked around the room. "It's well-known that the walls here in Hogwarts have ears."
"Ah."
He expected her to kick him out, or to interrogate him at the least. Instead, she sat back in her chair and considered what he had implied.
"I see. But if there was a way for us to discuss whatever is troubling you, in such a manner so that no one in the castle, not even those ears, could understand, would you accept to trust me in that?"
Gavin looked up at her. "If there is, please... I... Yes. Yes, I would. Professor." He leaned forward and put all the urgency he felt into his voice and eyes. "This is very important, but it's also very dangerous."
"Then it is very important that you tell me, Gavin. Let's see if this will ease your worry."
She pulled out her wand and, with a small smile, cast, "In felem transfiguris!"
Gavin felt the spell hit him. Not what he'd been expecting. He'd thought that maybe she knew some warding spell, something that would allow them to speak under a shield of some kind. Not this.
His body felt strange to him. Alien and yet...
He ducked his head to see...
*****
Minerva looked at the young cat who sat examining himself on her couch. He was not exactly what she'd expected when she cast the transfiguration spell on him.
Gavin Bennett was a rather exotic bird here at the school. He played that up, to his benefit she was certain, and the professors had got used to seeing him wearing flamboyant garnishes to the rather drab black student robes. And if he was told to tone those down, he would then appear in plain robes, with his hair a myriad of colours, or short and spikey, or long and flowing down to his hips.
Gavin Bennett liked being the focus of attention.
Transfiguration from human into animal - cat, in this case - usually revealed something about the inner makings of the human. Some character trait that dominated would come to the forefront.
She'd expected a Siamese at the very least. Instead there was a red-and-white cat on her couch.
A young cat, with a certain sleekness, true, but just a common, garden variety, British bicoloured shorthair.
Then he raised his head and Minerva found the answer in his facial markings.
"You have unknown depths, Mr Bennett."
The cat cocked his head to one side and raised a paw to examine the claws he extended.
Minerva smiled, remembering their banter at breakfast about claws. "Yes, and well armed as you can see."
Gavin raised his other front paw and examined those claws as well. With an approving nod, he pulled them back in, then gave the paw a lick, smoothing back the one or two hairs that had been ruffled by the gesture.
Minerva laughed. "Well, not all that different. Still prideful, Mr Bennett. But then, what feline isn't?"
With that, she transfigured herself into her Animagus form of a classically marked, British shorthaired brown tabby. She jumped up onto the couch and took the time to ascertain that her coat was as it should be, her whiskers neat before looking at the young tom watching her with wide-open copper eyes.
"Now then," she said, "I can promise you that, in all the castle, the only one who would be able to understand us is Mrs Norris, and I know that she's nowhere near these quarters. In fact, she would never intrude as this is my personal territory." She sat on her haunches and hunkered down. "You have something you wanted to tell me, Gavin."
Gavin was not as easy with his new form as she was. It took him a moment or two to copy her position. She suspected he was using the time to put his thoughts into order. Whatever he had to tell her had greatly upset the usually unflappable Hufflepuff and she would allow him what time he needed.
"I don't know..."
She smiled at the surprised expression on his face. "Yes, you are speaking Cat. Have no worry, I can understand every word you say, as you understand every one of mine."
Gavin gave himself a little shake then began to take a deep inhalation which turned into a wide yawn. Minerva noted the whiteness and sharpness of his teeth with approval. He was a fine kit.
"I don't know where to begin."
"At the beginning is usually a good starting point."
Gavin nodded. "Last night."
Minerva nodded and tried to exude calm. She had a feeling that what she was about to hear would try that calm.
"I was out...after curfew."
"I see." She touched his paw with hers. "Some of that tom-cat behaviour?"
He nodded. "I won't tell you with whom."
"I wouldn't ask that of one of my kits. There is such a thing as cat honour, Mr Bennett."
If he was surprised to hear himself referred to as one of her kits, he hid it well.
"We meet at the Astromony Tower. So we don't have to worry about being caught, we use our broomsticks. Fly out our dorm windows when everyone's asleep and get back in the same way."
"All things considered, quite original, Mr Bennett. I can't really approve, but I do commend your initiative."
"It was after... After. He'd flown back and I was waiting the usual amount of time before I took off when I realised that there was light coming from a particular window in the Infirmary."
"Professor Snape's room?"
Gavin nodded. "I decided I should go take a quick look, just to see if there was anything I could report to the others. I mean, those announcements about how the Professor is holding his own and all that... I didn't really believe them. And Harry and Draco didn't seem to as well. So I thought I might find out something or other that I could pass on to them."
Minerva gave a small purr of...encouragement. Well, it couldn't be approval. After all, the boy had broken curfew. But she did think the more of him because he'd thought of the others.
His head ducked a little as he confessed. "I could see Harry and Draco with Neville and Blaise. They were laughing. I had a pair of Weasley Extendable Ears in my pockets and I placed the ends against the bottom of the window so I could hear what they were saying."
He looked up at her. "They were talking about us. You and me. At breakfast?"
Minerva nodded.
"About how I said that I was in..."
"Love with me. I didn't think and I don't think you meant that literally, Mr Bennett."
Gavin gave an embarrassed little purr and the sound surprised him. Minerva smiled. The inner vibrations of a purr could tickle until one got used to them.
"Well," Gavin continued, "this is where it gets..." He swallowed hard. "They were all laughing. Harry leaned over to check on the Professor and he said that he thought the Professor was looking better. Neville said something about laughter as medicine and then..."
He was silent and Minerva knew the story had entered the area that so troubled him.
"It's all right, Gavin. When you can."
He met her eyes. "They stopped laughing, just like that. I took a chance to look into the room. I'd been keeping to the shadows 'cause I was thinking of what I could do to surprise them. Anyway, they were all sleeping and someone else had come into the room."
Minerva knew. She felt a chill ruffle the coat along her spine, but she needed to hear it.
"It was..." Gavin's voice dropped. He closed his eyes and murmured so low that she barely heard him - but hear him she did.
"The Headmaster," she repeated.
"He was angry. I thought at first it was because they had broken curfew. But that was no reason to put them all to sleep. So I decided to stay where I was and not move. Not even breathe hard, just in case. I wanted to remove the Ears, but I was afraid that would draw attention to me."
"So you heard what he said."
Gavin nodded.
As he recounted what he'd heard, Minerva felt her heart grow cold. She had sensed that something about that relapse had not been right. To be proven right was another matter. The substance of that proof made her realise that somewhere, somehow, at some time, Albus Dumbledore had passed the line between eccentricity and insanity.
She would not allow herself to consider the fact that this might have been the true character of the man she'd known and respected for some sixty years.
She listened as Gavin repeated Albus's words, his revelation of his plans not just for Harry but for Draco and Severus.
When Gavin got to the part about Albus's casting Cruciatus on a man who had already suffered so greatly under the curse, she held up a paw and, thankfully, Gavin stopped talking.
Minerva let her head drop. Insanity? Could one use that as an excuse for torture? For attempted murder?
To the best of her knowledge, Severus had always done as Albus had required of him. She had been told that it was part of his parole that Severus should teach Potions at Hogwarts. She hadn't been too supportive at first; she remembered the angry, troubled young man of her classes. But he had proven himself an excellent if stern teacher. And when Slughorn had decided to retire, she had fully supported Severus's Headship, even if many of the other members of the staff hadn't.
Severus was good for Slytherin. He was one of them, not of their highest aristocracy, but of the common man, if one could consider the last official member of the Snape family common.* She knew there had been some difficulties between Albus and Severus's grandfather, but not the subject. She had always assumed that it dated from the Grindelwald days.
Minerva had felt that, as a student, Severus could have used some support from a mentor - she herself mentored her weaker Gryffindors - but Severus did not have the kind of associations that interested Slughorn. He had been left to fend on his own, especially after the Incident at the Shrieking Shack.
Albus had, in her mind, handled that very badly. For whatever reason - she'd never been able to get it out of him - he had protected Sirius Black, thereby further alienating Severus. After that, the young man had grown cold. His temper had always had a low flash point, had been hot, but after the Incident, a coldness had developed in Severus that still lodged in him.
She hadn't stepped in at the time, but when he'd returned to Hogwarts, when he decided to offer his services as the Order's spy...
Had he made that decision himself? She had accepted, at the time, his need for reparation, for making amends for the actions he'd taken as a follower of Voldemort. But now that Gavin mentioned Severus's release from bonds and oaths...
Collaring Severus's power.
Why had Albus felt it necessary to collar Severus? True, the man was a powerful wizard, but...why collar?
And why the need to collar Harry? Was there more to it than what Albus had explained to Severus?
She forced her attention away from Albus to the young tom who looked distressed. No wonder the boy had been so troubled. To have heard all that...
"Gavin, why didn't Albus know you were there? I don't doubt what you're telling me, but surely he would have checked to see if he was alone?"
Gavin looked uneasy. He sighed. "I have a much older cousin who's also gay. When it became obvious that so was I, he took me aside and taught me a few tricks. Things to keep me safe. One of them is a kind of shield spell. It doesn't make me invisible, but if I'm not in direct view and someone is trying to sense me, it sends back a feeling that there's nothing there. My cousin said it would keep me safe when there were wizards around..." He looked up at her. "There are some who think cursing gays with anything short of Cruciatus is...fun."
Minerva wondered if...when the boy had had to test the strength of that spell.
"I just had time to cast it when I realised that the Headmaster was in the room. I thought that flying away would be sure to get me into more trouble."
Minerva patted his shoulder. "I understand. When did you fly off?"
"After the curse. Professor Dumbledore disappeared. I was thinking of going in to see if I could help Professor Snape when Madam Pomfrey burst in. When the Headmaster followed her, dressed in his nightclothes, there was enough noise and confusion; I took off."
"Very wise of you."
"There's something else I have to tell you."
Minerva braced herself. What other horror was waiting to come out of this boy's mouth?
"I warned Harry."
She had to think about that for a moment and cocked her head. "The kissing incident?"
Gavin nodded. "Kitty and Zeffy are really pissed off with me about that. But it was the only way..."
"Of avoiding the ears of the walls?"
He nodded.
Minerva purred a little. Her kit was truly audacious. The Kiss was the talk of all the castle. Even in the staff room.
"What did you tell him?"
"To get Professor Snape out of here, that his life was in danger."
Minerva winced. If Harry believed that, there was no telling what he would do.
She transfigured herself back and cast the spell that would return Gavin to his human form.
The boy blinked at the change. He looked exhausted. The expression in his eyes as he met hers worried her. "You see?"
She went up to him and stoked his cheek with the back of her fingers. "I do. You've been very brave, Gavin."
He shrugged awkwardly. "Do you believe me?"
"Yes."
His eyes hardened a moment. "The words of a fag slut about a highly respected, powerful wizard, whom you've known longer than I've lived?"
She stroked a finger downward along his cheek, her nail leaving a faint pink mark. "I never want to hear you call yourself that ever again. Do you understand, my kit?"
Gavin's eyes got suspiciously bright. "Yes, ma'am."
"As for the rest, yes, I do believe you."
"Thank you," he whispered.
With a smile, Minerva traced his face where the yin-yang markings had masked his eyes. Balance. This kit had Balance in him, a balance she foresaw would be much needed in the coming days.
She gestured to the sandwiches. "Maybe you could eat something now." And hid her smile when he fell ravenously on the plate.
"Archy!"
The house-elf appeared.
"Would you be so kind as to go see where Mr Potter might be at this moment?"
She had barely had time to warm the tea when Archy re-appeared. "Mistress. Nowhere. Master Potter is not in the castle. No one has seen him since he left detention with Professor Trelawney."
Minerva wondered if it were already too late. Harry had matured a great deal this year, but he was still prone to action before thought.
"Master Black?"
Archy shook his head. "Nowhere either." Then he began wringing his hands. "Professor Snape has also disappeared."
Minerva dared look over at Gavin. For an instant, the thought that he'd been here to keep her occupied flashed through her head, but no, this was news to him as well.
"Is there anything else, Archy?"
"Madam Pomfrey was hit with a Stupefy. Dobby is on his way to tell the Headmaster."
Bloody hell!
"Anything else, Archy?"
The house-elf thought then shook his head. "No, Mistress."
If Harry had indeed taken Severus, Albus would immediately focus on her kitlings. They needed to be safe so she could go investigate.
"Gavin, you are to stay here. You are not to leave my quarters under any circumstances. Do I have your word on this?"
She was pleased to see the boy become noticeably alert. He nodded. "Yes, Professor. You have it."
"Good. Now, Archy, you must find the others. Miss Parfitt, Miss Strange, Master Longbottom and Master Zabini. They are all to come here immediately, no matter what anyone else tells them. Tell them the password is 'cat's table'. Go."
She turned to Gavin. "You are not to open the door to anyone who does not give you the correct password. Is that understood?"
"Yes, but, Professor, where are you..."
"I'm going to see just what is happening. I'm placing you in charge, Mr Bennett. You will see to it that no one leaves here until I get back. If you have need of anything, food, blankets, call Archy. He'll see to it that you have it. Do not fail me."
She was at the door when Minerva heard a determined, "I shan't, Professor."
"Mistress!"
She turned to find Archy wringing his hands.
"Master Longbottom is not to be found."
Minerva's eyes met Gavin's. "Oh, dear. That will make keeping Mr Zabini here a little more difficult." She pulled out her wand and murmured a few words. "There. Once in, no one will be able to leave until morning call for breakfast. I'm sorry, Gavin. You're going to have to find a way of dealing with Mr Zabini."
Gavin raised his chin and squared his shoulders. "You can count on me, Professor."
As she reached for the doorknob, he asked, "Professor, may I tell them why?"
She thought a moment, then, "No. I'm afraid the fewer people who know about this, the better. It will make your job a little harder, I don't doubt."
"I'll think of something to tell them."
Minerva smiled at him. "Yes, I'm certain that you will."
Just as the door closed, she heard him call out, "Be careful, Professor."
*****
* Yep, I know. But Quid T.O.O. was written before Book Six and I've decided to stick with the background I created for Snape. Not like this is canon anyway.
**********
Quid 2, Post 39
At the Same Time.
**********
Neville sat back on his heels and looked at the patch he had finished weeding for Professor Sprout in her personal greenhouse. He'd have done the job anyway, so this detention stuff didn't really bother him. He hoped that Blaise had had as easy a time with Professor Slughorn.
With a rueful shake of his head, Neville found himself wishing that the Headmaster hadn't banned them from the visitors' tower. It had been rather nice to have sex in a bed, in privacy, without having to be furtive and quick. Blaise was rather good at slow, delicious sex. Neville knew that his lover liked it as well when he took his time arousing him.
He was going to miss those lazy times. Not that quick and dirty weren't fun, but...
Being back in the dorm wasn't all that bad. Ron actually talked to him there. Not in public since Hermione was still angry with him. As though love was something to be limited to House-mates!
He had always respected Hermione Granger. She was very intelligent and had often helped him, especially in Potions. Not that it had done much good. Didn't matter when or even where, if Professor Snape stood near him, his brain turned into mush.
Gran hadn't been too happy with the fact that Professor Snape was teaching at Hogwarts. Whenever his end of year reports had arrived home, she'd berate him for the marks that she felt were lower than they should be, but she'd never mentioned the fiasco that was Potions. She had laughed her head off when he'd told her about the Boggart transformations Professor Lupin had had them work on for DADA. And, for a while, that had worked. Every time Professor Snape had stood near him, he'd only had to imagine him in his granny's vulture hat, or carrying her red handbag, for some of the fear to dissipate. It had worked well enough for him to pass - with the lowest grade, but still a pass - the OWL level Potions exam.
Neville wasn't sure what had taken him to the Professor's room in the Infirmary. Harry was his friend and he knew that Harry was extremely worried about Snape. Maybe it was because he was the only one in all of Hogwarts who knew what it was like to have someone you cared about cursed with so much Cruciatus and live.
He'd been far too young to remember when it had happened to his parents, but he knew that his gran had never recovered from what had been done to her son and his wife. Gran had kept his parents in her home when they'd been healed from their injuries and had done the best she could for them. When they'd awakened, she finally had had to admit that their presence and their special needs were more than she could bear. Seeing her son, who, from family stories, had been so hale and hearty, so full of life that his personality filled up a room, now less than a shadow of his former self...
His mum had been as outgoing. One of his cousins on her side of the family had used the word vivacious when describing her. Another had stories about her sense of humour and how she always had a funny story to tell. Spirits always raised when she was around.
Neville sighed as he looked at the dirt ground under his nails. These two wonderfully alive, gregarious people had somehow produced him.
Or was he just the result of what had happened to them? Maybe, if they had continued being what they had been and had brought him up... Would he have been the life of any party?
Would he have had nothing to fear from Professor Snape?
Had that been why he'd gone to sit by the man's bedside, to prove to himself that Snape was just a man like any other man, not the stuff of nightmares?
It had been hard to find the usual fear as he'd watched the pale face and listened to the short, panting breaths of a man dealing with pain. Neville had wondered if the Professor should awake, would he too be sent to the same ward as his parents?
He had nothing against which to compare his parents, but he'd known Snape the man. It would be so hard to see Snape the near-ghost his parents now were. No wonder Gran had aged before her time. Even if Snape's aura had not been the positive one his parents had had, one certainly knew when he was around. To think of him as a wraith...
Neville shook his head. As he'd weeded, he'd been thinking over what had happened last night. How had they fallen asleep like that? All four of them. He suspected some spell but who would have cast it and why? He knew he hadn't and, of the four, he was the only one with any kind of grudge against the Professor.
Wasn't he?
Neville shook his head and eliminated that possibility. He knew Harry might once have hated Snape, but now, he seemed truly concerned. And Harry was not a particularly good actor or liar.
Draco Black, né Malfoy. Neville had always thought that he'd been Snape's favourite. It was well-known that there was animosity between Snape and Draco's father. Though Draco was a far better actor and liar than anyone he knew, Neville didn't doubt his sincerity where Snape was concerned.
Moreover, he didn't think, in spite of what Hermione said, that Harry was blinded by love. Well, she hadn't said 'love'; the word she'd used was 'gonads', which had made Ron and Neville blush beet-red at hearing her use the word.
That left Blaise. His once enemy, his now lover.
Blaise the enigma. Who had one day suddenly kissed him behind the Bleeding Heart bushes. Not that Neville had fought him off. He'd had to deal with a hard-on whenever he and Blaise had worked closely together. He'd been waiting for the laughter to begin, for something hurtful to be said, a snark at the very least. Instead, Blaise had pulled back enough for Neville to gasp, "Oh!" before he'd smiled that devilish smile of his then pulled Neville's head close for an even deeper, more toe-curling kiss.
Though, to be honest, more than his toes had curled.
Neville had clung to him like a limpet, hoping the moment would never end. When it had, he'd barely been able to appreciate the fact that Blaise had checked out the greenhouse to see that they were alone. Then he'd cast a sticking spell on the only door, pulled Neville under one of the long potting tables and proceeded to give him the best blow job of his life.
After that, any time they could get together, they had. Neville doubted but that there were very many places he and Blaise hadn't done the deed, but when he'd found a way of their doing it in a bed, Neville had found it so much more satisfying. And when they'd just taken the room over, the fact that they could spend the whole night together had made sex all the better.
The mornings were pretty good as well. Waking to the feel of Blaise spooned behind him, his erection hard against Neville's hip. To the expertise of those hands coming around to stroke him, to tease him, to bring him to completion. To feel Blaise prepare him, penetrate him until it was his, Neville Longbottom's arse, in which the most beautiful of males at Hogwarts came.
Damn! He really, truly hated the Headmaster for taking that away from him!
Neville looked down at the hard bulge in his trousers. He sighed. Well, at this time of the evening, so close to curfew, there was no sense in trying to find Blaise and have him deal with his little problem. He sent his cock an apologetic promise of later relief.
He stood up and began cleaning the tools he had used. They had been Gran's gift to him when he'd received an "Extremely Outstanding" for his Herbology OWL mark. She'd been really pleased with him for that. "Good sensible subject," she'd said, handing him the box with a set of gardening tools from Silversmith's, the best tool makers in the realm.
Neville always liked cleaning the tools he'd used. It had a calming effect on him.
He was humming quietly to himself when he heard tapping against the panes of the greenhouse. He looked up and saw a familiar owl glaring at him.
"Fenton?"
What was Gran's owl doing here?
Suddenly worried that something had happened to her - Gran never used Fenton for delivering messages to Neville - he rushed over to a pane that opened and let the owl in. Fenton was not pleased to see him. But then, Fenton was never pleased to see anyone other than Gran.
Neville dug into his robes pockets to find an owl treat while Fenton found a place to settle on the table where Neville had been working. Getting to the message tied to Fenton's leg was a matter of some negotiation. It took three owl treats before the bloody owl would allow Neville to come near enough to remove the small scroll. Then, with a hoot, Fenton took off through the same open pane and disappeared into the night.
Heart beating wildly, Neville unscrolled the message and sat down hard on a nearby stool at the first words.
Nothing is wrong with me, Neville. Take a deep breath and get hold of yourself, boy. Remember, you're a Longbottom.
All right. She was fine. Neville took a deep breath and let it out, then smiled as he realised he had done exactly as she'd told him to.
Shaking his head, he continued reading the letter.
Neville, you know that I have never approved of Severus Snape. I have always felt, and still do, that that boy belongs in Azkaban.
Neville blinked. Had Gran really called Professor Snape a boy? He shook his head. He'd never thought of the Professor as a boy. Hadn't he been...hatched...a fully grown, miserable, hateful man? A boy?
First Fenton, now this. What other wonders would the night bring?
However, the circumstances appear to have changed. You wrote that he was probably going to die as a result of his injuries. He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named would never have treated an ally in that manner. He keeps Cruciatus for his enemies. I may have been wrong about the boy, but you are never to tell him that.
Neville snickered, a little hysterically. Like he was on those kinds of terms with Snape!
You were far too young to remember what your parents were like when I brought them home. From your description of the situation, Snape is probably in very much the same condition as they were. So it is important that you do not wait any longer than necessary to make these arrangements.
What I am to tell you is a deep family secret. In these times, there are some who would see this information as something dangerous. I had hoped to tell you when you had completed your time at Hogwarts, but that might be too late for Severus Snape. Besides, I believe that if you are man enough to know which way your heart lies and to stand publically by it, then you are man enough to take on this burden.
At first, he wasn't certain he was actually reading what he was. He read the letter again. Then a third time.
He sat, staring at the top of the table, not seeing anything. If what Gran had written...? How could that be? If she were right...? But...
He shook himself. If she were right, then Harry had to know about this. He had to be the one to organise...
Dear Merlin!
Neville hurriedly put his tools away in their special box, grabbed his cloak, all the while keeping an eye on the scroll that lay on the potting table. He stared at it as he tied his cloak and pulled on his gloves.
It was with a sense of trepidation that he reached for Gran's letter. If what she'd written was true, he had to move quickly.
He had unspelled the lights in the greenhouse and was activating the special ward Professor Sprout had on this greenhouse when something, some movement, caught his eye. He pressed himself close to the greenhouse, knowing that, in the shadows, he would not be noticed.
The night was dark. The new moon barely cast any light against the clouds that passed, hiding the stars.
It was the feeling of something moving that made Neville focus on a part of the grounds that stood between this greenhouse at the back of the castle and the Forbidden Forest.
He had to squint a little but eventually he made out what had made him still. It was a small procession. There was a figure leading and one at the back of what seemed to be a long roll that was being moved with what Neville assumed was a Mobil-type spell of some kind.
They had been hard to make out since the two figures and the roll were clad in white, making them almost invisible to the eye against the snow. From above, they most certainly would never have been seen. It was only because he was at the same level that Neville had been able to make them out.
The still of the night was also why he could hear them when they spoke.
"Harry!" a low hiss from the last figure.
"What?"
"The sheet's becoming unwound. I need to wrap him better."
Well, the Harry was not hard to figure out, and the second voice was definitely Draco's. So, who was the him that needed wrapping?
Oh, Merlin!
Snape. It had to be Snape. Why else would they be putting themselves in the danger of being expelled from Hogwarts? Professor Sprout had warned him to be certain to be in before curfew, because she was positive that there was going to be some kind of inspection to verify that the four of them were in their quarters at that time.
From the direction in which they were headed, Neville figured that neither Harry nor Draco was going to meet that criteria.
He shook his head. Damn them! He'd endured the humiliation of Petrificus first year because of Harry and his plots. True, he'd been rewarded, but still, he'd been teased mercilessly by his House-mates when he'd been found the next morning, in his jammies, frozen on the common room floor.
He felt for the scroll in his pocket. Gran thought he was man enough to know the family secret. He hoped she would take that into consideration when he showed up at home expelled from Hogwarts a few months before Leaving.
He noted that Draco had finished doing whatever needed doing and they were setting off again. With a sigh of resignation, he spelled his dark brown cloak white, pulled the hood over his face and took off after the small procession, taking care to erase his footsteps in the snow, as Draco was doing with theirs.
As he followed them, Neville made a mental note to thank Uncle Algie for the tracking lessons. Once he'd proven himself to have Magic after all, Uncle Algie had taken him hunting in the woods that bordered the family property, teaching him how to sneak up on the notoriously nervous snipes without their catching his scent or hearing him.
Once in the Forbidden Forest, the procession sped up a little. It certainly seemed as though Harry knew exactly where they were going. They stopped a couple of times while either Harry or Draco checked on the 'he' in the roll. Neville slipped behind a tree and breathed as silently as he could while waiting until they set off again, after checking behind that they weren't being followed. Then he put all of Uncle Algie's lessons to the test and continued following them.
Though he'd known where they were, Neville suddenly became very aware that they were deep in the Forbidden Forest, where all kinds of dangers lay in waiting. Strangely enough, he found he wasn't worried. Harry and Draco certainly didn't show any additional signs of nervousness. As long as he stuck near enough to them, he felt he had nothing to fear. If bad came to worse, he could always scream for help.
Neville wasn't certain why he didn't just join up with them. There was something about their furtiveness that made him stay in the rear, double-checking that they weren't being followed.
It was definitely past curfew when Neville noticed they had stopped again. He took cover behind a large rock and watched as Harry said some words and a door magically appeared in a very large boulder. Harry and Draco kept checking to see that they were alone while it slowly opened. Satisfied, Harry took the lead once more and the small procession passed through the opening.
As the door began closing, Neville rushed up and slipped in after them.
**********
Quid 2, Post 40
When We Left Minerva...
**********
Minerva checked first on Poppy. The distraught healer was lying on a bed in her own Infirmary, Helena at her side.
When Poppy saw Minerva, she tried to sit up. Helena eased her back down on the small mound of pillows. "Please, Madam Pomfrey, you mustn't upset yourself more."
"Oh, Minerva! Severus... He's gone!"
Minerva nodded to Helena, who stepped back. She took Poppy's hand in hers and patted it gently. "What happened, Poppy?"
"I don't know. I heard a noise and then...nothing!"
"It was Stupefy, Professor McGonagall."
Minerva smiled at the young woman.
"All I know is that Albus counterspelled whatever had been thrown at me. He was not pleased, let me tell you, Minerva. Not pleased at all. And he..." Poppy gasped unhappily. "He yelled at me he was so distraught."
Minerva bit back an 'I'll-just-bet-he-did'.
"Poor Severus. Minerva, who could have taken him?" Poppy was so overwrought, she began wringing her hands like the house-elves did when stressed. "He's so frail, so fragile."
Minerva got hold of her hands and held them between hers. "I have no idea, Poppy. By the by, where is Albus?"
Helena answered. "He left as soon as he ascertained that Madam Pomfrey was all right."
Minerva smiled at the healer. "There, you see, Poppy, if Albus is taking care of the situation..."
Poppy sniffled into a handkerchief. "I've never lost a patient, Minerva. Not in this manner."
"Was Severus doing better?"
Helena nodded. "Oh, yes, Professor. He was. He was resting much more comfortably this afternoon. Even the Headmaster could see that he was."
Minerva felt the hair on her arms rise. "He could?"
Helena nodded. "He came to see how I was doing. He said that it was quite a responsibility, taking care of Professor Snape, on my own as it were, and he was delighted to see that I was up to it."
Poppy piped up, her voice peeved. "He was surprised to see me there. He said he thought I'd been taking some time away, renewing my forces." She sniffed. It was apparent that she had been really insulted by the Headmaster's comment. "As if I could stay away from a patient that severely injured."
Minerva wondered if the presence of Poppy had saved Severus from another dose of Cruciatus. It would have been easy to cast a spell over a student who might feel overwhelmed by the responsibility set on her shoulders.
Oh, dear. If Albus had thought that Helena Trumble was that easy a target, he really had lost contact with his student body.
Minerva knew she had to find Harry before Albus did. And what had happened to Neville?
She patted Poppy's hand once more then went over to whisper to Helena, "Has anyone thought to advise Madam Hooch about this development? She really should be here. I think you would find that her presence would calm Madam Pomfrey far better than any potion you could give her. And I think she should be as alert as possible in case we should need her skills."
Helena's eyes opened wide. Minerva had just confirmed a school rumour to her. Her confidence in the young woman was not misplaced. Her lips tightened and she nodded. Healers were not just the givers of care, they were also the keepers of secrets.
Minerva patted the girl on the shoulder and left to see what had happened to her kits.
At the door of the Infirmary, she morphed into her Animagus form. It was faster getting through the castle in that shape, and her cat nose was so much sharper.
As she made her way out of the small passages known only to Mrs Norris and herself, Minerva had to allow her only hope was that, somehow, Neville was involved in the disappearance of Severus. Harry and Draco were experienced enough in slyness and duplicity to hide their tracks. Neville was less so. If he were with them, he would be easier to track.
Fingers figuratively crossed, she headed for the last place he'd been seen, Sprout's greenhouse. Yes, she definitely could scent him. Among others, he'd been working in the ails-des-bois patch, a weaker relative of garlic, but with a distinctive smell all of its own.
Though there were no footprints in the snow, she could follow his scent with very little problem. It gave her the sense that he was alone, though from the occasional concentration behind some cover, she knew that he had stopped. She concluded that he hadn't been taken against his will; that, since he took cover, there was a good chance that he was following rather than leading.
Who had enough power to get Neville, one of her more timid charges, to break the rules and challenge Albus's threat of expulsion? Not only that, but to be in the Forbidden Forest, with no back-up? He would answer to that at the very least, she promised herself. What if it had been anyone...anything other than herself following him? What kind of danger was he putting himself into without...
Minerva sighed. When she caught up to them...
Because it had to be Harry. Only Harry had the kind of power that would make the abnormally cautious Neville break the rules. Well, there was Blaise, but Blaise was back at the castle. So, Harry.
And if Harry was there, then so was Draco and, she hoped, Severus.
Was she making the right assumptions? They were based on rather little concrete evidence.
The quiet of the night was suddenly broken by the sound of stone grating on stone. Minerva decided to throw caution to the wind and she hurried as quickly as she could. A good thing, as she barely had time to assess what she was seeing before, with the stone caressing her coat, she managed to follow Neville's scent past the door closing in a boulder.
**********
on to the next part
Series: Posting 36 - 40
Pairing: Threesome: S/H/D
Posting began: August 22, 2006
Posting ended: April 7, 2007
Warnings, etc.: See Post 1
Quid 2, Post 36
Hufflepuff Bravery.
**********
Gavin Bennett didn't know what to do. He knew that his nervous behaviour was being blamed on the fact that he'd been isolated from his House-mates.
In actual truth, he wasn't all that bothered by the reaction of his House-mates. Staying angry demanded a lot of negative energy and Hufflepuffs were not known for being able to maintain anger for any length of time.
His dilemma stemmed from the fact that he needed to approach Harry, to talk to him without chancing that anyone would overhear what he had to say.
Normally, this would not be a problem, but after the Headmaster's little speech, the katzentisch was under scrupulous observation. And it wasn't as though Hufflepuff shared many classes with the other Houses. It had always been paired off with Ravenclaw, and neither Zeffy nor Kitty could help him in this.
The three of them sat together in Arithmancy, at the back of the room. Not their usual seats, but Professor Ethelred didn't comment. He just nodded to them and started the class.
It wasn't until he was going to Ancient Runes as the other Seventh Year class, composed of Gryffindor and Slytherin, was coming out that he saw an opportunity. Knowing he might not be able to get this close to Harry throughout the day without arousing suspicion, he decided to take a chance.
Making his way through the small crowd, he grabbed Harry - surprising the hell out of him, as Harry went for his wand before realising who had him - and rushed him into one of the small niches nearby that had once held some decorative feature. There, in front of everyone who had stopped to see what Gavin was doing, he planted on Harry one of those passionate kisses that were the staple of the romance novels so popular with the upper years' female students in his House.
Harry was so stunned that he didn't move, which allowed Gavin to murmur in his ear, "Get Snape out of here. Now. His life is in danger."
When Gavin stepped back, Draco was there, livid, scowling at him. "Have you forgotten the anti-poaching rule already, Bennett?"
Gavin ignored the wand in Draco's hand. He tried to put all the urgency he could drum up into the look he sent Harry. "I mean that," he said.
As he turned to leave, there was a sudden silence so that the words, "Fag slut," were easy to hear. Gavin's breath caught in his throat but he didn't stop. As he went to join his classmates, someone else added loudly, with malicious glee, "That one needs to be castrated."
Gavin wanted to go for his wand. He had heard worse in his time, at home and in his village. But he'd always thought that, here at Hogwarts, it wouldn't happen. He planted one of his coldest smirks on his face and turned to deal with the speaker.
Harry beat him to it. He'd pulled away from Draco, and Lavender Brown suddenly found herself with a wand under her chin, facing a white-faced Harry Potter.
"I don't think..."
Gavin didn't know that Harry could speak so softly and yet sound so very dangerous.
"...you, of all people, Lavender Brown, should pass judgement on anyone for their sexual behaviour. After all, if fags like us should be castrated for so-called promiscuous behaviour, what should we do with bitches in heat like you? Got any idea?"
Lavender had lost all colour but now she looked as though the only thing keeping her up was Harry's wand under her chin.
It was Neville who dared approach Harry; Draco looked as though he would prefer to be the first in line to deal with either Gavin or Lavender.
"Harry. Leave it be. It's not worth the trouble. Besides, everyone's upset about Professor Snape."
There was absolute silence while Harry took his time to think about that.
Finally, he nodded and stepped back, dropping his wand hand to his side. "Don't ever get in my face again, Lavender. Next time, Neville might not be around to stop me."
With that, Harry turned and pushed his way past the others. Draco nodded and thanked Neville as he followed him. As he passed in front of Gavin, he hesitated long enough to hiss, "We're going to talk about this," then continued, using his elbows to clear the way.
Neville's loud exhalation blew the bangs off his forehead. "That was close."
Blaise, who had been watching Gavin, ambled up to the man and whispered, "What the hell was that all about?"
Gavin licked his lips and tried to call up enough saliva to speak before deciding that it would be better to remain silent.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Gavin looked around at Zeffy and Kitty who were watching him, worry plainly written on their faces.
Gavin shrugged and moved into the classroom. No one got in his way. No one said anything.
He took the last desk in the room and tried to get his heart to stop racing. Would Harry believe him? Would he do as Gavin had told him?
He dropped his face in his hands, not surprised to find, when the lecture started, that he was sitting alone.
**********
Quid 2, Post 37
Harry's Decision.
**********
Harry knew Draco was peeved, but he needed to think about what Gavin had told him.
At breakfast, Neville had been the one to point out that Gavin was alone in his exile, that all the others were paired off save Gavin. Harry had looked at the Hufflepuff and wondered that he was taking it so hard. Then the Headmaster had spoken and wiped all thoughts of Gavin out of his head.
The morning's classes had been a little more tense than the norm. In front of their classmates, Hermione made a production of offering him her sympathetic understanding - accompanied with a sneer at Draco who was standing by his side - then snubbed him when Harry didn't come running back to her side. Ron had shrugged and followed her, his face flushed.
Neville and Blaise had taken the desk on the other side of Draco and Harry, discussing the return of Slughorn and wondering what kind of detention Blaise would have to serve with the former Head of Slytherin. Harry's revelation that he had to serve his with Trelawney had elicited groans and ohs of revulsion from those around who'd heard.
"That's a bit much," Blaise had commiserated. "Neville's got Sprout, not that he wouldn't be there anyway."
Draco had finally revealed that his were assigned to Filch. Harry was willing to swear that even Hermione had winced for him as that made its way through the classroom.
They'd been more relaxed going out than they'd been going in, which was probably why Gavin's actions had so stunned Harry.
The kiss had been one thing. Harry had had time only to be thankful Gavin hadn't used tongue when the Hufflepuff broke off the kiss to whisper in his ear.
"Get Snape out of here. Now. His life is in danger."
Before he'd had time to question Gavin, Lavender had opened her big mouth and Harry had allowed his bewildered horror out in the form of anger. Thank Merlin that Neville had stepped in, otherwise....
Harry gestured to Draco that they needed to talk privately, in their room.
Draco looked as though he didn't want to wait that long but finally nodded. After class, he headed to their tower. Harry waited until he was certain no one had followed Draco to go join him.
As he closed the door to their room, Draco flared. "What the fuck is between you and Gavin? If I bore you, Potter..."
"SHUT UP!"
The last time Harry had spoken to Draco in that way had been before their stay in the Chamber. It took Draco aback. He gaped silently at Harry.
Harry took out his wand and cast a silence-ward on the room. Draco slowly sat down on the end of their bed and waited, eyes watching warily as Harry cast a second ward.
"Harry?"
Draco suddenly realised that this was more than the usual precautions. Something was up, so he waited until Harry had cast yet a third ward.
"Paranoid, aren't you?"
"Maybe. But if Gavin's right..."
"Gavin?" Draco felt an eyebrow rise at the mention of the Hufflepuff's name. He'd liked Gavin and had to admit that he felt betrayed by his action that morning.
"The kiss was a cover." Harry paced the room, thoughts obviously not on Gavin.
"Cover for what?" With Harry nervous like a cat in a room filled with rocking chairs, Draco slipped his wand into his hand, hiding both behind a drape of his robes. Harry in this mood was volatile. Better safe than sorry.
Harry came to a sudden stop and then went to stand in front of Draco. "He said that Severus was in danger and to get him out of Hogwarts now."
"WHAT!"
Harry nodded. "That's what he said."
"How... What the hell is he talking about?" Draco stood up and began pacing. Harry sat down.
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "But I got the impression that he was truly serious. Draco..."
"What?" Draco snapped.
"Stop pacing and start thinking."
"Thinking about what exactly?"
"Why maybe we all suddenly fell asleep at the same moment. Why maybe Severus suddenly had a relapse."
Draco closed his eyes. "And why the hell none of us woke up when Severus began screaming. Pomfrey heard him and she wasn't even in the same room." There was silence as they both thought about that. "So you don't think we're imagining a situation here?"
Harry shrugged. "Gavin seems to know more than he's saying."
"I could get him to talk." Draco caressed his wand.
Harry shook his head. "I have a feeling he's told us all he thinks he can safely tell us. Else why would he have warned me the way he did? But right now, he's not important. Severus is. What if Gavin is right? What if Severus's life is in danger?"
Harry turned to face Draco, who was staring pensively up at the ceiling as though looking for an answer. "What are we going to do, Draco?"
**********
Quid 2, Post 38
The Queen Cat.
**********
Only after a long, stern talk with himself did Gavin decide to try and locate this particular hallway.
Once he'd taken that decision, there was the matter of getting here without anyone seeing him, which meant a lot of ducking into shadows and, if he was fortunate, empty rooms in order to let people by.
It was late and now he had the added worry of the time element: he couldn't be caught out of Hufflepuff territory after curfew. Certainly not now.
Or would that be the better solution to this whole problem? Immediate expulsion would take care of his dilemma neatly and quickly.
He shook his head. Tempting as that was, he'd already rejected that option and he was going to stand by it. Stand by his new friends.
He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. What if he'd made the wrong choice? What if she couldn't be trusted? Hell, it was bad enough that he felt he couldn't go to Sprout with this. She was an excellent Head for Hufflepuff. A wonderful teacher. But he felt she was really too naive, too...Hufflepuff to deal with this...evil.
He'd been pacing back and forth in the shadowy hallway for over an hour and he still hadn't been able to walk up to the door and knock.
He stopped to stare at the bloody thing with great dislike. What if she wasn't even there? So many of the professors spent evenings in their classrooms. But before coming here, he had checked hers, seemingly looking for help, but there had only been a couple of Ravenclaw Seventh Years, practicing their spells.
Maybe he should just forget the whole thing. Maybe he should go back to his dorm and get into bed, pull the covers over his head and perform Obliviate on himself. Maybe...
The door opened and Professor McGonagall stood there, watching him.
"Perhaps I should take the decision away from you, Mr Bennett, and just tell you to come in."
He actually felt relieved. "Yeah, perhaps you should."
She opened the door wider and invited him with a gesture of her head.
Gavin passed her, hoping that this was the right thing to do.
"Please, sit down, Mr Bennett. I think you'll find the couch very comfortable."
That he hadn't even noticed the make-up of the room told Gavin just how worried he was. He never entered a new room without checking out the decor. It revealed so much about the person it housed.
This one was pretty much what he'd have expected, if he'd thought about it. The furniture was old, more from use than real age, with comfort as its major requirement. There was surprisingly very little plaid in the room. After nearly seven years of seeing it draped over the Professor's shoulder at official events, he recognised the McGonagall tartan on some of the pillows that accented the dark green, comfortably padded couch and armchair, but had trouble identifying the different tartan that made up the curtains.
"It's the Lindsay plaid, for the Crawfords who are my mother's people."
Gavin nodded. The rest of the room was neatly cluttered with books piled on the high shelves, a vase of dried heather at the corner of what seemed to be a writing desk, some pictures of highland scenes grouped together on one wall. A battle shield that looked as though it had seen its fair share of service held the place of honour over a mantle that supported small portraits of what must be family.
Funny, he never thought of his professors as having family.
The floor was covered by a hodge-podge of Persian rugs, some large, some runners that had been thrown every which way over the largest one.
There was a welcoming fire blazing happily away on the hearth.
"I think tea is in order, Mr Bennett. You look cold."
Gavin sat down on the couch that faced a low table and the armchair nearer the fire.
As she took the armchair, Professor McGonagall called out, "Archy! Tea, please, and something to nibble."
In a flash, a house-elf appeared, carrying a tray with all the requirements for tea, and a plate of small sandwiches with another of a variety of biscuits.
"Thank you, Archy."
The house-elf gave a dignified little bow and disappeared.
The whole thing reminded Gavin of why he was so hesitant about being here.
As she poured tea, Professor McGonagall said calmly, "I noticed that you didn't eat much at supper, Mr Bennett."
Gavin shrugged. He hadn't been able to swallow much; his stomach hadn't liked having anything in it.
She handed him the cup and he noticed that it was fixed the way he liked. His hand dropped and he stared at the cup that the Professor was still holding out to him. "I've been keeping an eye on all of you at my katzentisch, Mr Bennett. I told you that you were to consider yourselves under my care and I meant it. I do still mean it, Gavin."
Gavin met her eyes and waited for his stomach to tell him if this had been a really bad idea. The Professor waited patiently, until his hand reached up and took the cup and saucer away from her.
She poured her own cup - she took it black - and sipped while Gavin stared into the depths of the cup in his hand.
Suddenly, he knew he had to trust her. There was no one else.
He took a mouthful of tea and swallowed, feeling the liquid work its way down his throat and settle in his stomach, spreading its soothing heat.
"Gavin, I take my promises most seriously."
He examined his cup as though he'd never before seen it. "If I ask you to promise not to repeat something..."
"Then I will keep my promise, should I make it."
Gavin understood the condition. "I think," he offered hesitantly, "it's not you that I mistrust..."
She placed her cup down on the table and settled her hands on her lap. "Whom do you mistrust, Gavin?"
He returned the cup to the table and looked around the room. "It's well-known that the walls here in Hogwarts have ears."
"Ah."
He expected her to kick him out, or to interrogate him at the least. Instead, she sat back in her chair and considered what he had implied.
"I see. But if there was a way for us to discuss whatever is troubling you, in such a manner so that no one in the castle, not even those ears, could understand, would you accept to trust me in that?"
Gavin looked up at her. "If there is, please... I... Yes. Yes, I would. Professor." He leaned forward and put all the urgency he felt into his voice and eyes. "This is very important, but it's also very dangerous."
"Then it is very important that you tell me, Gavin. Let's see if this will ease your worry."
She pulled out her wand and, with a small smile, cast, "In felem transfiguris!"
Gavin felt the spell hit him. Not what he'd been expecting. He'd thought that maybe she knew some warding spell, something that would allow them to speak under a shield of some kind. Not this.
His body felt strange to him. Alien and yet...
He ducked his head to see...
*****
Minerva looked at the young cat who sat examining himself on her couch. He was not exactly what she'd expected when she cast the transfiguration spell on him.
Gavin Bennett was a rather exotic bird here at the school. He played that up, to his benefit she was certain, and the professors had got used to seeing him wearing flamboyant garnishes to the rather drab black student robes. And if he was told to tone those down, he would then appear in plain robes, with his hair a myriad of colours, or short and spikey, or long and flowing down to his hips.
Gavin Bennett liked being the focus of attention.
Transfiguration from human into animal - cat, in this case - usually revealed something about the inner makings of the human. Some character trait that dominated would come to the forefront.
She'd expected a Siamese at the very least. Instead there was a red-and-white cat on her couch.
A young cat, with a certain sleekness, true, but just a common, garden variety, British bicoloured shorthair.
Then he raised his head and Minerva found the answer in his facial markings.
"You have unknown depths, Mr Bennett."
The cat cocked his head to one side and raised a paw to examine the claws he extended.
Minerva smiled, remembering their banter at breakfast about claws. "Yes, and well armed as you can see."
Gavin raised his other front paw and examined those claws as well. With an approving nod, he pulled them back in, then gave the paw a lick, smoothing back the one or two hairs that had been ruffled by the gesture.
Minerva laughed. "Well, not all that different. Still prideful, Mr Bennett. But then, what feline isn't?"
With that, she transfigured herself into her Animagus form of a classically marked, British shorthaired brown tabby. She jumped up onto the couch and took the time to ascertain that her coat was as it should be, her whiskers neat before looking at the young tom watching her with wide-open copper eyes.
"Now then," she said, "I can promise you that, in all the castle, the only one who would be able to understand us is Mrs Norris, and I know that she's nowhere near these quarters. In fact, she would never intrude as this is my personal territory." She sat on her haunches and hunkered down. "You have something you wanted to tell me, Gavin."
Gavin was not as easy with his new form as she was. It took him a moment or two to copy her position. She suspected he was using the time to put his thoughts into order. Whatever he had to tell her had greatly upset the usually unflappable Hufflepuff and she would allow him what time he needed.
"I don't know..."
She smiled at the surprised expression on his face. "Yes, you are speaking Cat. Have no worry, I can understand every word you say, as you understand every one of mine."
Gavin gave himself a little shake then began to take a deep inhalation which turned into a wide yawn. Minerva noted the whiteness and sharpness of his teeth with approval. He was a fine kit.
"I don't know where to begin."
"At the beginning is usually a good starting point."
Gavin nodded. "Last night."
Minerva nodded and tried to exude calm. She had a feeling that what she was about to hear would try that calm.
"I was out...after curfew."
"I see." She touched his paw with hers. "Some of that tom-cat behaviour?"
He nodded. "I won't tell you with whom."
"I wouldn't ask that of one of my kits. There is such a thing as cat honour, Mr Bennett."
If he was surprised to hear himself referred to as one of her kits, he hid it well.
"We meet at the Astromony Tower. So we don't have to worry about being caught, we use our broomsticks. Fly out our dorm windows when everyone's asleep and get back in the same way."
"All things considered, quite original, Mr Bennett. I can't really approve, but I do commend your initiative."
"It was after... After. He'd flown back and I was waiting the usual amount of time before I took off when I realised that there was light coming from a particular window in the Infirmary."
"Professor Snape's room?"
Gavin nodded. "I decided I should go take a quick look, just to see if there was anything I could report to the others. I mean, those announcements about how the Professor is holding his own and all that... I didn't really believe them. And Harry and Draco didn't seem to as well. So I thought I might find out something or other that I could pass on to them."
Minerva gave a small purr of...encouragement. Well, it couldn't be approval. After all, the boy had broken curfew. But she did think the more of him because he'd thought of the others.
His head ducked a little as he confessed. "I could see Harry and Draco with Neville and Blaise. They were laughing. I had a pair of Weasley Extendable Ears in my pockets and I placed the ends against the bottom of the window so I could hear what they were saying."
He looked up at her. "They were talking about us. You and me. At breakfast?"
Minerva nodded.
"About how I said that I was in..."
"Love with me. I didn't think and I don't think you meant that literally, Mr Bennett."
Gavin gave an embarrassed little purr and the sound surprised him. Minerva smiled. The inner vibrations of a purr could tickle until one got used to them.
"Well," Gavin continued, "this is where it gets..." He swallowed hard. "They were all laughing. Harry leaned over to check on the Professor and he said that he thought the Professor was looking better. Neville said something about laughter as medicine and then..."
He was silent and Minerva knew the story had entered the area that so troubled him.
"It's all right, Gavin. When you can."
He met her eyes. "They stopped laughing, just like that. I took a chance to look into the room. I'd been keeping to the shadows 'cause I was thinking of what I could do to surprise them. Anyway, they were all sleeping and someone else had come into the room."
Minerva knew. She felt a chill ruffle the coat along her spine, but she needed to hear it.
"It was..." Gavin's voice dropped. He closed his eyes and murmured so low that she barely heard him - but hear him she did.
"The Headmaster," she repeated.
"He was angry. I thought at first it was because they had broken curfew. But that was no reason to put them all to sleep. So I decided to stay where I was and not move. Not even breathe hard, just in case. I wanted to remove the Ears, but I was afraid that would draw attention to me."
"So you heard what he said."
Gavin nodded.
As he recounted what he'd heard, Minerva felt her heart grow cold. She had sensed that something about that relapse had not been right. To be proven right was another matter. The substance of that proof made her realise that somewhere, somehow, at some time, Albus Dumbledore had passed the line between eccentricity and insanity.
She would not allow herself to consider the fact that this might have been the true character of the man she'd known and respected for some sixty years.
She listened as Gavin repeated Albus's words, his revelation of his plans not just for Harry but for Draco and Severus.
When Gavin got to the part about Albus's casting Cruciatus on a man who had already suffered so greatly under the curse, she held up a paw and, thankfully, Gavin stopped talking.
Minerva let her head drop. Insanity? Could one use that as an excuse for torture? For attempted murder?
To the best of her knowledge, Severus had always done as Albus had required of him. She had been told that it was part of his parole that Severus should teach Potions at Hogwarts. She hadn't been too supportive at first; she remembered the angry, troubled young man of her classes. But he had proven himself an excellent if stern teacher. And when Slughorn had decided to retire, she had fully supported Severus's Headship, even if many of the other members of the staff hadn't.
Severus was good for Slytherin. He was one of them, not of their highest aristocracy, but of the common man, if one could consider the last official member of the Snape family common.* She knew there had been some difficulties between Albus and Severus's grandfather, but not the subject. She had always assumed that it dated from the Grindelwald days.
Minerva had felt that, as a student, Severus could have used some support from a mentor - she herself mentored her weaker Gryffindors - but Severus did not have the kind of associations that interested Slughorn. He had been left to fend on his own, especially after the Incident at the Shrieking Shack.
Albus had, in her mind, handled that very badly. For whatever reason - she'd never been able to get it out of him - he had protected Sirius Black, thereby further alienating Severus. After that, the young man had grown cold. His temper had always had a low flash point, had been hot, but after the Incident, a coldness had developed in Severus that still lodged in him.
She hadn't stepped in at the time, but when he'd returned to Hogwarts, when he decided to offer his services as the Order's spy...
Had he made that decision himself? She had accepted, at the time, his need for reparation, for making amends for the actions he'd taken as a follower of Voldemort. But now that Gavin mentioned Severus's release from bonds and oaths...
Collaring Severus's power.
Why had Albus felt it necessary to collar Severus? True, the man was a powerful wizard, but...why collar?
And why the need to collar Harry? Was there more to it than what Albus had explained to Severus?
She forced her attention away from Albus to the young tom who looked distressed. No wonder the boy had been so troubled. To have heard all that...
"Gavin, why didn't Albus know you were there? I don't doubt what you're telling me, but surely he would have checked to see if he was alone?"
Gavin looked uneasy. He sighed. "I have a much older cousin who's also gay. When it became obvious that so was I, he took me aside and taught me a few tricks. Things to keep me safe. One of them is a kind of shield spell. It doesn't make me invisible, but if I'm not in direct view and someone is trying to sense me, it sends back a feeling that there's nothing there. My cousin said it would keep me safe when there were wizards around..." He looked up at her. "There are some who think cursing gays with anything short of Cruciatus is...fun."
Minerva wondered if...when the boy had had to test the strength of that spell.
"I just had time to cast it when I realised that the Headmaster was in the room. I thought that flying away would be sure to get me into more trouble."
Minerva patted his shoulder. "I understand. When did you fly off?"
"After the curse. Professor Dumbledore disappeared. I was thinking of going in to see if I could help Professor Snape when Madam Pomfrey burst in. When the Headmaster followed her, dressed in his nightclothes, there was enough noise and confusion; I took off."
"Very wise of you."
"There's something else I have to tell you."
Minerva braced herself. What other horror was waiting to come out of this boy's mouth?
"I warned Harry."
She had to think about that for a moment and cocked her head. "The kissing incident?"
Gavin nodded. "Kitty and Zeffy are really pissed off with me about that. But it was the only way..."
"Of avoiding the ears of the walls?"
He nodded.
Minerva purred a little. Her kit was truly audacious. The Kiss was the talk of all the castle. Even in the staff room.
"What did you tell him?"
"To get Professor Snape out of here, that his life was in danger."
Minerva winced. If Harry believed that, there was no telling what he would do.
She transfigured herself back and cast the spell that would return Gavin to his human form.
The boy blinked at the change. He looked exhausted. The expression in his eyes as he met hers worried her. "You see?"
She went up to him and stoked his cheek with the back of her fingers. "I do. You've been very brave, Gavin."
He shrugged awkwardly. "Do you believe me?"
"Yes."
His eyes hardened a moment. "The words of a fag slut about a highly respected, powerful wizard, whom you've known longer than I've lived?"
She stroked a finger downward along his cheek, her nail leaving a faint pink mark. "I never want to hear you call yourself that ever again. Do you understand, my kit?"
Gavin's eyes got suspiciously bright. "Yes, ma'am."
"As for the rest, yes, I do believe you."
"Thank you," he whispered.
With a smile, Minerva traced his face where the yin-yang markings had masked his eyes. Balance. This kit had Balance in him, a balance she foresaw would be much needed in the coming days.
She gestured to the sandwiches. "Maybe you could eat something now." And hid her smile when he fell ravenously on the plate.
"Archy!"
The house-elf appeared.
"Would you be so kind as to go see where Mr Potter might be at this moment?"
She had barely had time to warm the tea when Archy re-appeared. "Mistress. Nowhere. Master Potter is not in the castle. No one has seen him since he left detention with Professor Trelawney."
Minerva wondered if it were already too late. Harry had matured a great deal this year, but he was still prone to action before thought.
"Master Black?"
Archy shook his head. "Nowhere either." Then he began wringing his hands. "Professor Snape has also disappeared."
Minerva dared look over at Gavin. For an instant, the thought that he'd been here to keep her occupied flashed through her head, but no, this was news to him as well.
"Is there anything else, Archy?"
"Madam Pomfrey was hit with a Stupefy. Dobby is on his way to tell the Headmaster."
Bloody hell!
"Anything else, Archy?"
The house-elf thought then shook his head. "No, Mistress."
If Harry had indeed taken Severus, Albus would immediately focus on her kitlings. They needed to be safe so she could go investigate.
"Gavin, you are to stay here. You are not to leave my quarters under any circumstances. Do I have your word on this?"
She was pleased to see the boy become noticeably alert. He nodded. "Yes, Professor. You have it."
"Good. Now, Archy, you must find the others. Miss Parfitt, Miss Strange, Master Longbottom and Master Zabini. They are all to come here immediately, no matter what anyone else tells them. Tell them the password is 'cat's table'. Go."
She turned to Gavin. "You are not to open the door to anyone who does not give you the correct password. Is that understood?"
"Yes, but, Professor, where are you..."
"I'm going to see just what is happening. I'm placing you in charge, Mr Bennett. You will see to it that no one leaves here until I get back. If you have need of anything, food, blankets, call Archy. He'll see to it that you have it. Do not fail me."
She was at the door when Minerva heard a determined, "I shan't, Professor."
"Mistress!"
She turned to find Archy wringing his hands.
"Master Longbottom is not to be found."
Minerva's eyes met Gavin's. "Oh, dear. That will make keeping Mr Zabini here a little more difficult." She pulled out her wand and murmured a few words. "There. Once in, no one will be able to leave until morning call for breakfast. I'm sorry, Gavin. You're going to have to find a way of dealing with Mr Zabini."
Gavin raised his chin and squared his shoulders. "You can count on me, Professor."
As she reached for the doorknob, he asked, "Professor, may I tell them why?"
She thought a moment, then, "No. I'm afraid the fewer people who know about this, the better. It will make your job a little harder, I don't doubt."
"I'll think of something to tell them."
Minerva smiled at him. "Yes, I'm certain that you will."
Just as the door closed, she heard him call out, "Be careful, Professor."
*****
* Yep, I know. But Quid T.O.O. was written before Book Six and I've decided to stick with the background I created for Snape. Not like this is canon anyway.
**********
Quid 2, Post 39
At the Same Time.
**********
Neville sat back on his heels and looked at the patch he had finished weeding for Professor Sprout in her personal greenhouse. He'd have done the job anyway, so this detention stuff didn't really bother him. He hoped that Blaise had had as easy a time with Professor Slughorn.
With a rueful shake of his head, Neville found himself wishing that the Headmaster hadn't banned them from the visitors' tower. It had been rather nice to have sex in a bed, in privacy, without having to be furtive and quick. Blaise was rather good at slow, delicious sex. Neville knew that his lover liked it as well when he took his time arousing him.
He was going to miss those lazy times. Not that quick and dirty weren't fun, but...
Being back in the dorm wasn't all that bad. Ron actually talked to him there. Not in public since Hermione was still angry with him. As though love was something to be limited to House-mates!
He had always respected Hermione Granger. She was very intelligent and had often helped him, especially in Potions. Not that it had done much good. Didn't matter when or even where, if Professor Snape stood near him, his brain turned into mush.
Gran hadn't been too happy with the fact that Professor Snape was teaching at Hogwarts. Whenever his end of year reports had arrived home, she'd berate him for the marks that she felt were lower than they should be, but she'd never mentioned the fiasco that was Potions. She had laughed her head off when he'd told her about the Boggart transformations Professor Lupin had had them work on for DADA. And, for a while, that had worked. Every time Professor Snape had stood near him, he'd only had to imagine him in his granny's vulture hat, or carrying her red handbag, for some of the fear to dissipate. It had worked well enough for him to pass - with the lowest grade, but still a pass - the OWL level Potions exam.
Neville wasn't sure what had taken him to the Professor's room in the Infirmary. Harry was his friend and he knew that Harry was extremely worried about Snape. Maybe it was because he was the only one in all of Hogwarts who knew what it was like to have someone you cared about cursed with so much Cruciatus and live.
He'd been far too young to remember when it had happened to his parents, but he knew that his gran had never recovered from what had been done to her son and his wife. Gran had kept his parents in her home when they'd been healed from their injuries and had done the best she could for them. When they'd awakened, she finally had had to admit that their presence and their special needs were more than she could bear. Seeing her son, who, from family stories, had been so hale and hearty, so full of life that his personality filled up a room, now less than a shadow of his former self...
His mum had been as outgoing. One of his cousins on her side of the family had used the word vivacious when describing her. Another had stories about her sense of humour and how she always had a funny story to tell. Spirits always raised when she was around.
Neville sighed as he looked at the dirt ground under his nails. These two wonderfully alive, gregarious people had somehow produced him.
Or was he just the result of what had happened to them? Maybe, if they had continued being what they had been and had brought him up... Would he have been the life of any party?
Would he have had nothing to fear from Professor Snape?
Had that been why he'd gone to sit by the man's bedside, to prove to himself that Snape was just a man like any other man, not the stuff of nightmares?
It had been hard to find the usual fear as he'd watched the pale face and listened to the short, panting breaths of a man dealing with pain. Neville had wondered if the Professor should awake, would he too be sent to the same ward as his parents?
He had nothing against which to compare his parents, but he'd known Snape the man. It would be so hard to see Snape the near-ghost his parents now were. No wonder Gran had aged before her time. Even if Snape's aura had not been the positive one his parents had had, one certainly knew when he was around. To think of him as a wraith...
Neville shook his head. As he'd weeded, he'd been thinking over what had happened last night. How had they fallen asleep like that? All four of them. He suspected some spell but who would have cast it and why? He knew he hadn't and, of the four, he was the only one with any kind of grudge against the Professor.
Wasn't he?
Neville shook his head and eliminated that possibility. He knew Harry might once have hated Snape, but now, he seemed truly concerned. And Harry was not a particularly good actor or liar.
Draco Black, né Malfoy. Neville had always thought that he'd been Snape's favourite. It was well-known that there was animosity between Snape and Draco's father. Though Draco was a far better actor and liar than anyone he knew, Neville didn't doubt his sincerity where Snape was concerned.
Moreover, he didn't think, in spite of what Hermione said, that Harry was blinded by love. Well, she hadn't said 'love'; the word she'd used was 'gonads', which had made Ron and Neville blush beet-red at hearing her use the word.
That left Blaise. His once enemy, his now lover.
Blaise the enigma. Who had one day suddenly kissed him behind the Bleeding Heart bushes. Not that Neville had fought him off. He'd had to deal with a hard-on whenever he and Blaise had worked closely together. He'd been waiting for the laughter to begin, for something hurtful to be said, a snark at the very least. Instead, Blaise had pulled back enough for Neville to gasp, "Oh!" before he'd smiled that devilish smile of his then pulled Neville's head close for an even deeper, more toe-curling kiss.
Though, to be honest, more than his toes had curled.
Neville had clung to him like a limpet, hoping the moment would never end. When it had, he'd barely been able to appreciate the fact that Blaise had checked out the greenhouse to see that they were alone. Then he'd cast a sticking spell on the only door, pulled Neville under one of the long potting tables and proceeded to give him the best blow job of his life.
After that, any time they could get together, they had. Neville doubted but that there were very many places he and Blaise hadn't done the deed, but when he'd found a way of their doing it in a bed, Neville had found it so much more satisfying. And when they'd just taken the room over, the fact that they could spend the whole night together had made sex all the better.
The mornings were pretty good as well. Waking to the feel of Blaise spooned behind him, his erection hard against Neville's hip. To the expertise of those hands coming around to stroke him, to tease him, to bring him to completion. To feel Blaise prepare him, penetrate him until it was his, Neville Longbottom's arse, in which the most beautiful of males at Hogwarts came.
Damn! He really, truly hated the Headmaster for taking that away from him!
Neville looked down at the hard bulge in his trousers. He sighed. Well, at this time of the evening, so close to curfew, there was no sense in trying to find Blaise and have him deal with his little problem. He sent his cock an apologetic promise of later relief.
He stood up and began cleaning the tools he had used. They had been Gran's gift to him when he'd received an "Extremely Outstanding" for his Herbology OWL mark. She'd been really pleased with him for that. "Good sensible subject," she'd said, handing him the box with a set of gardening tools from Silversmith's, the best tool makers in the realm.
Neville always liked cleaning the tools he'd used. It had a calming effect on him.
He was humming quietly to himself when he heard tapping against the panes of the greenhouse. He looked up and saw a familiar owl glaring at him.
"Fenton?"
What was Gran's owl doing here?
Suddenly worried that something had happened to her - Gran never used Fenton for delivering messages to Neville - he rushed over to a pane that opened and let the owl in. Fenton was not pleased to see him. But then, Fenton was never pleased to see anyone other than Gran.
Neville dug into his robes pockets to find an owl treat while Fenton found a place to settle on the table where Neville had been working. Getting to the message tied to Fenton's leg was a matter of some negotiation. It took three owl treats before the bloody owl would allow Neville to come near enough to remove the small scroll. Then, with a hoot, Fenton took off through the same open pane and disappeared into the night.
Heart beating wildly, Neville unscrolled the message and sat down hard on a nearby stool at the first words.
Nothing is wrong with me, Neville. Take a deep breath and get hold of yourself, boy. Remember, you're a Longbottom.
All right. She was fine. Neville took a deep breath and let it out, then smiled as he realised he had done exactly as she'd told him to.
Shaking his head, he continued reading the letter.
Neville, you know that I have never approved of Severus Snape. I have always felt, and still do, that that boy belongs in Azkaban.
Neville blinked. Had Gran really called Professor Snape a boy? He shook his head. He'd never thought of the Professor as a boy. Hadn't he been...hatched...a fully grown, miserable, hateful man? A boy?
First Fenton, now this. What other wonders would the night bring?
However, the circumstances appear to have changed. You wrote that he was probably going to die as a result of his injuries. He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named would never have treated an ally in that manner. He keeps Cruciatus for his enemies. I may have been wrong about the boy, but you are never to tell him that.
Neville snickered, a little hysterically. Like he was on those kinds of terms with Snape!
You were far too young to remember what your parents were like when I brought them home. From your description of the situation, Snape is probably in very much the same condition as they were. So it is important that you do not wait any longer than necessary to make these arrangements.
What I am to tell you is a deep family secret. In these times, there are some who would see this information as something dangerous. I had hoped to tell you when you had completed your time at Hogwarts, but that might be too late for Severus Snape. Besides, I believe that if you are man enough to know which way your heart lies and to stand publically by it, then you are man enough to take on this burden.
At first, he wasn't certain he was actually reading what he was. He read the letter again. Then a third time.
He sat, staring at the top of the table, not seeing anything. If what Gran had written...? How could that be? If she were right...? But...
He shook himself. If she were right, then Harry had to know about this. He had to be the one to organise...
Dear Merlin!
Neville hurriedly put his tools away in their special box, grabbed his cloak, all the while keeping an eye on the scroll that lay on the potting table. He stared at it as he tied his cloak and pulled on his gloves.
It was with a sense of trepidation that he reached for Gran's letter. If what she'd written was true, he had to move quickly.
He had unspelled the lights in the greenhouse and was activating the special ward Professor Sprout had on this greenhouse when something, some movement, caught his eye. He pressed himself close to the greenhouse, knowing that, in the shadows, he would not be noticed.
The night was dark. The new moon barely cast any light against the clouds that passed, hiding the stars.
It was the feeling of something moving that made Neville focus on a part of the grounds that stood between this greenhouse at the back of the castle and the Forbidden Forest.
He had to squint a little but eventually he made out what had made him still. It was a small procession. There was a figure leading and one at the back of what seemed to be a long roll that was being moved with what Neville assumed was a Mobil-type spell of some kind.
They had been hard to make out since the two figures and the roll were clad in white, making them almost invisible to the eye against the snow. From above, they most certainly would never have been seen. It was only because he was at the same level that Neville had been able to make them out.
The still of the night was also why he could hear them when they spoke.
"Harry!" a low hiss from the last figure.
"What?"
"The sheet's becoming unwound. I need to wrap him better."
Well, the Harry was not hard to figure out, and the second voice was definitely Draco's. So, who was the him that needed wrapping?
Oh, Merlin!
Snape. It had to be Snape. Why else would they be putting themselves in the danger of being expelled from Hogwarts? Professor Sprout had warned him to be certain to be in before curfew, because she was positive that there was going to be some kind of inspection to verify that the four of them were in their quarters at that time.
From the direction in which they were headed, Neville figured that neither Harry nor Draco was going to meet that criteria.
He shook his head. Damn them! He'd endured the humiliation of Petrificus first year because of Harry and his plots. True, he'd been rewarded, but still, he'd been teased mercilessly by his House-mates when he'd been found the next morning, in his jammies, frozen on the common room floor.
He felt for the scroll in his pocket. Gran thought he was man enough to know the family secret. He hoped she would take that into consideration when he showed up at home expelled from Hogwarts a few months before Leaving.
He noted that Draco had finished doing whatever needed doing and they were setting off again. With a sigh of resignation, he spelled his dark brown cloak white, pulled the hood over his face and took off after the small procession, taking care to erase his footsteps in the snow, as Draco was doing with theirs.
As he followed them, Neville made a mental note to thank Uncle Algie for the tracking lessons. Once he'd proven himself to have Magic after all, Uncle Algie had taken him hunting in the woods that bordered the family property, teaching him how to sneak up on the notoriously nervous snipes without their catching his scent or hearing him.
Once in the Forbidden Forest, the procession sped up a little. It certainly seemed as though Harry knew exactly where they were going. They stopped a couple of times while either Harry or Draco checked on the 'he' in the roll. Neville slipped behind a tree and breathed as silently as he could while waiting until they set off again, after checking behind that they weren't being followed. Then he put all of Uncle Algie's lessons to the test and continued following them.
Though he'd known where they were, Neville suddenly became very aware that they were deep in the Forbidden Forest, where all kinds of dangers lay in waiting. Strangely enough, he found he wasn't worried. Harry and Draco certainly didn't show any additional signs of nervousness. As long as he stuck near enough to them, he felt he had nothing to fear. If bad came to worse, he could always scream for help.
Neville wasn't certain why he didn't just join up with them. There was something about their furtiveness that made him stay in the rear, double-checking that they weren't being followed.
It was definitely past curfew when Neville noticed they had stopped again. He took cover behind a large rock and watched as Harry said some words and a door magically appeared in a very large boulder. Harry and Draco kept checking to see that they were alone while it slowly opened. Satisfied, Harry took the lead once more and the small procession passed through the opening.
As the door began closing, Neville rushed up and slipped in after them.
**********
Quid 2, Post 40
When We Left Minerva...
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Minerva checked first on Poppy. The distraught healer was lying on a bed in her own Infirmary, Helena at her side.
When Poppy saw Minerva, she tried to sit up. Helena eased her back down on the small mound of pillows. "Please, Madam Pomfrey, you mustn't upset yourself more."
"Oh, Minerva! Severus... He's gone!"
Minerva nodded to Helena, who stepped back. She took Poppy's hand in hers and patted it gently. "What happened, Poppy?"
"I don't know. I heard a noise and then...nothing!"
"It was Stupefy, Professor McGonagall."
Minerva smiled at the young woman.
"All I know is that Albus counterspelled whatever had been thrown at me. He was not pleased, let me tell you, Minerva. Not pleased at all. And he..." Poppy gasped unhappily. "He yelled at me he was so distraught."
Minerva bit back an 'I'll-just-bet-he-did'.
"Poor Severus. Minerva, who could have taken him?" Poppy was so overwrought, she began wringing her hands like the house-elves did when stressed. "He's so frail, so fragile."
Minerva got hold of her hands and held them between hers. "I have no idea, Poppy. By the by, where is Albus?"
Helena answered. "He left as soon as he ascertained that Madam Pomfrey was all right."
Minerva smiled at the healer. "There, you see, Poppy, if Albus is taking care of the situation..."
Poppy sniffled into a handkerchief. "I've never lost a patient, Minerva. Not in this manner."
"Was Severus doing better?"
Helena nodded. "Oh, yes, Professor. He was. He was resting much more comfortably this afternoon. Even the Headmaster could see that he was."
Minerva felt the hair on her arms rise. "He could?"
Helena nodded. "He came to see how I was doing. He said that it was quite a responsibility, taking care of Professor Snape, on my own as it were, and he was delighted to see that I was up to it."
Poppy piped up, her voice peeved. "He was surprised to see me there. He said he thought I'd been taking some time away, renewing my forces." She sniffed. It was apparent that she had been really insulted by the Headmaster's comment. "As if I could stay away from a patient that severely injured."
Minerva wondered if the presence of Poppy had saved Severus from another dose of Cruciatus. It would have been easy to cast a spell over a student who might feel overwhelmed by the responsibility set on her shoulders.
Oh, dear. If Albus had thought that Helena Trumble was that easy a target, he really had lost contact with his student body.
Minerva knew she had to find Harry before Albus did. And what had happened to Neville?
She patted Poppy's hand once more then went over to whisper to Helena, "Has anyone thought to advise Madam Hooch about this development? She really should be here. I think you would find that her presence would calm Madam Pomfrey far better than any potion you could give her. And I think she should be as alert as possible in case we should need her skills."
Helena's eyes opened wide. Minerva had just confirmed a school rumour to her. Her confidence in the young woman was not misplaced. Her lips tightened and she nodded. Healers were not just the givers of care, they were also the keepers of secrets.
Minerva patted the girl on the shoulder and left to see what had happened to her kits.
At the door of the Infirmary, she morphed into her Animagus form. It was faster getting through the castle in that shape, and her cat nose was so much sharper.
As she made her way out of the small passages known only to Mrs Norris and herself, Minerva had to allow her only hope was that, somehow, Neville was involved in the disappearance of Severus. Harry and Draco were experienced enough in slyness and duplicity to hide their tracks. Neville was less so. If he were with them, he would be easier to track.
Fingers figuratively crossed, she headed for the last place he'd been seen, Sprout's greenhouse. Yes, she definitely could scent him. Among others, he'd been working in the ails-des-bois patch, a weaker relative of garlic, but with a distinctive smell all of its own.
Though there were no footprints in the snow, she could follow his scent with very little problem. It gave her the sense that he was alone, though from the occasional concentration behind some cover, she knew that he had stopped. She concluded that he hadn't been taken against his will; that, since he took cover, there was a good chance that he was following rather than leading.
Who had enough power to get Neville, one of her more timid charges, to break the rules and challenge Albus's threat of expulsion? Not only that, but to be in the Forbidden Forest, with no back-up? He would answer to that at the very least, she promised herself. What if it had been anyone...anything other than herself following him? What kind of danger was he putting himself into without...
Minerva sighed. When she caught up to them...
Because it had to be Harry. Only Harry had the kind of power that would make the abnormally cautious Neville break the rules. Well, there was Blaise, but Blaise was back at the castle. So, Harry.
And if Harry was there, then so was Draco and, she hoped, Severus.
Was she making the right assumptions? They were based on rather little concrete evidence.
The quiet of the night was suddenly broken by the sound of stone grating on stone. Minerva decided to throw caution to the wind and she hurried as quickly as she could. A good thing, as she barely had time to assess what she was seeing before, with the stone caressing her coat, she managed to follow Neville's scent past the door closing in a boulder.
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on to the next part