Errors In Judgement II

Rating: PG-13

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, November 4, 1996

Approaching Professor Lupin after a grueling, but satisfying DADA class, Harry handed him a rolled up parchment. "Here's the essay you wanted."

"Ah, Harry." Taking the parchment, Lupin perched himself on the corner of his desk. "Stay a moment. I'd like to talk with you a bit, if you don't mind."

"Of course, sir." Harry shifted his books and school supplies on to a desk, while the two of them waited for the rest of the students to file out of the classroom.

"So, how are you doing?" Lupin studied the gangly teenager in front of him.

"Better," Harry answered, as he rubbed a shoulder. "Still have some stiffness, but otherwise feeling okay."

"And how is your. . . ? No matter how hard he tried, Lupin could not bring himself to refer to Severus Snape as Harry's father. "Snape?"

"He seemed to be himself the very next day." Harry's voice held a hint of jealously. Here he was still stiff and sore, nine days after being attacked by Voldemort and his minions, while his father had seemed to recover the very next day.

"Don't worry about it, Harry." Lupin put a comforting hand on Harry's arm. "You're young and inexperienced with battle and being hit with multiple dark curses. Severus, on the other hand is old and tough. It probably takes a couple of Cruciatus just to penetrate his thick hide."

Harry couldn't help but grin at Lupin's observation. "I hope my essay is acceptable." He nodded at the parchment in Lupin's hand. "And you say that's all I need to do to catch up on the work I missed?"

"Taking on He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, and his Death Eaters is a tougher project then any I can assign in class." Lupin unrolled Harry's essay and began to peruse it. "Are you very behind in your other classes?"

"Some," Harry said with little concern. "But I'm getting help from Hermione, and," he paused a moment, "my father has scheduled time with me for one evening and Sunday afternoons. It's our time, where we talk about what's been happening, and also how my classes are going. If I need extra help, he of course would assist me."

"Good. Good." Lupin nodded his approval. Despite his strained relations with Snape, he was glad to see that the man was finally doing right by Harry. "Well, your essay looks fine. I'll give it a more thorough reading later. So." He stood up. "Where will you be celebrating the Christmas holidays?"

"Christmas?" With everything that had happened to him in the last few months, Harry was too busy trying to get through his daily routine, let alone think ahead to Christmas.

"I know it's a little early to be planning for Christmas and Christmas break, but I was thinking about giving you some additional DADA sessions. With the return of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, and the prophecy, well, it seemed like extra lessons for you are called for."

"That would be great." Harry tried to appear enthused about the idea, but life at the moment was overwhelming him, and it was hard to think about having one more thing taking up his time and energy. "Christmas break would be a good time," he quickly added, knowing that an extra lesson now would be too much for him, but by Christmas break, he could no doubt handle it. "But, err, I suppose I need to check with my father about our Christmas plans." He gave Lupin a questioning look. "I don't suppose you know what my father usually does on holiday break."

"Not sure." Lupin shrugged. "Although my best guess is that he goes home, but don't worry." He gave Harry a reassuring smile. "I'll have a talk with your. . .Snape about my plan."

"Sure, Professor." Harry picked up his books and supplies. Giving Lupin a nod good bye, he thoughtfully made his way to the door. More food for thought, what would Christmas holiday be like with his new father?

November 6, 1996

"We requested a change in schedule like Slytherin did two years ago." Slightly nervous due to this being their first scheduled, private time together, Harry babbled on, as he sat across from Snape at their small, kitchen table. "Partly because of my injuries, and partly because our whole team has to be reformed. Since Angelina Johnson is gone, we need a new captain, and we need to decide what position Ginny Weasley. . . ." He trailed off, noting that his father was busily grading papers and looking like he was not paying any attention to what he was saying.

A moment of silence passed before Snape looked up from work, eyebrow raised. "So Gryffindor won't be playing their first match until February. That should give you plenty of time to recover physically and also for the team to get in order. Are you by chance looking to become Gryffindor's captain?"

"No, yes, I don't know," Harry stammered, feeling awkward. His father's quill hadn't stopped its scratching, nor had Snape looked up from his work. It was obvious he had no interest in Harry's conversation. "I'm bothering you, aren't I?" he finally asked with a sigh. Despite fighting Voldemort together and sharing a bed, Harry could still feel a wide chasm separating them.

"I can assure you that you are not bothering me," Snape said, eyes never leaving the parchment he was grading. "We agreed that our time together would be a time of getting to know each other and sharing."

"But it looks like you're more interested in getting your work done."

"Harry." Snape finally looked up. "Trust me when I say that I'm only using a few cells of my brain to grade these. . . ." He waved a hand at disgust at the pile of parchments. "Sorry excuses for essays. The rest of many brain cells are concentrating on what you're saying."

"Oh." Harry couldn't help but peep at the headings on the parchments. Essays by first year Gryffindors. He winced in sympathy.

"As far as you being the captain of the team, "Snape continued, as he once again began marking parchments, "I would prefer that you allow someone else that honor. I know you love Quidditch and are a skilled player in the game, but just playing on the team is demanding enough, being the captain, I fear would overtax you."

"Because I'm not exactly shining in my lessons?" Harry asked glumly, as he stared down the History of Magic textbook in front of him.

"Yes, and also because you will be busy with extra studies in Occlumency and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. This was the first he had heard about extra studies.

Snape looked up, as Harry's voice had increased in volume. "I don't think I need to explain why these extra lessons are necessary."

"No, but. . . ." Harry rested his head in his hands. Of course, Occlumency and extra practice in Defense Against the Dark Arts were needed, but how was he going to do that, Quidditch, and keep respectable grades in the rest of his classes? "Bloody Voldemort," he muttered. "After all of the atrocities he committed, he's going to add getting me kicked out school to his list of accomplishments."

Snape frowned at Harry's language but did not comment on it. "At the moment, Professor Dumbledore is seeing about having Occlumency added as an official class to your schedule. That would allow you to drop one of your other classes."

"Really?" Harry perked up at that news. "Do I get to pick the class?"

"No," Snape said firmly, just as a knock was heard on the door. "That will be decided by myself and your other professors."

"Damn," Harry swore quietly, as Severus got up to see who was at the door, when a sudden thought struck him. "Who's going to be teaching me Occlumency, you or Professor Dumbledore?" he yelled into the next room.

Severus turned to head to scowl at Harry's bad manners as he opened his door. The sight of Remus Lupin did not improve his mood any. "I'm having time with my son now," he growled at Lupin, not giving the other man a chance to say anything. "Come back another time, or better yet, don't come back at all."

"Severus." Remus was able to stick his foot in the door before it closed. "I know this is your time with Harry, that's why I came. I wanted to speak to both of you together. It won't take but a few minutes."

"Five minutes," Severus enunciated slowly. "That's all the time I'm going to give you."

He grudgingly stepped back to allow Lupin to enter.

"Hi, Harry." Remus smiled a friendly greeting at Harry, who had followed Severus into the sitting room. "Okay, since I only have five minutes, I'll say my piece quickly. I would like to give Harry," he addressed Snape, "extra lessons in defense against the dark arts. With all that has happened lately, and the prophecy. . . ."

"You don't need to convince me that Harry should have more tutoring in defense against the dark arts," Severus interrupted. "It's something that I've already considered and talked over with the Headmaster."

"Oh." Remus was taken aback a bit. Dumbledore had said nothing to him about that.

"It has been decided that I will be tutoring Harry in both Occlumency and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"You're going to be giving me lessons in both?" Harry exclaimed. He accepted that Snape was his father, and that perhaps there was even some feelings growing between them, but his experiences with Snape, the teacher had never been good.

"I am the most qualified in both areas." He stared at both Remus and Harry, his glare daring them to refute his claim.

"Yes, of course," Lupin acquiesced. "Well, then. . ." he stammered awkwardly. "I guess my business is done here."

"No, Lupin, wait." Harry stopped his professor from leaving by touching his arm. He turned to Snape. "Professor Lupin was just speaking to me today about extra lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry was confident in his abilities in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he could just imagine lessons with Snape. Nerves and his father's intimidating manner would have him dropping his wand, missaying incantations, and making a fool of himself in all sorts of ways. "So, don't you think," his brain raced to find a happy solution for all, "that it might be better if you shared these extra responsibilities with. . . ." His eyes turned to look at Lupin.

"I am his official professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Remus quickly said, as he saw the expression on Severus' face. It spoke of jealously and possessiveness. "So we should be working together on this for Harry's sake."

"How about if the two of you share giving me the extra DADA lessons?" Harry came up with a compromise. "That way neither one of you has to shoulder the entire burden."

"You're not a burden, Harry," Remus corrected him, as Severus stood with arms folded across his chest, a calculating look in his eyes.

"Alright," Severus said after a long moment, his expression unreadable. "We'll share the responsibility of Harry's extra DADA lessons."

Remus and Harry exchanged surprised looks. It was a toss up on who was the most amazed by Snape agreeing so easily.

"Owl Molly Weasley and ask her if you can spend the Christmas holiday there," Snape ordered. "We can plan the lessons at that time."

""Weasleys?" Both Harry and Remus exclaimed, jaws dropping in astonishment.

"We're spending Christmas at the Weasley's?" Harry asked at the same time, Remus was protesting, "I just can't invite myself over to the Weasley's for the holidays!"

"Molly Weasley graciously invited us over to their home for the Christmas holiday, and I agreed," Severus stated to Harry and then looked at Lupin. "Tell Molly that I'm requesting your presence, if you really need to have an excuse. But Mrs. Weasley is a generous person, and I'm sure one more person will not be a bother to her."

December 16, 1996

The weeks had flown by, and it was now two days before Christmas break. Unfortunately none of the students could let themselves be excited about the holiday until their end-of first-term exams were completed.

"There should be a limit to the number of exams a person can have in a day," Ron complained, as he tried to gulp down breakfast and study notes at the same time.

"You had all weekend to study." Hermione pointed out. As usual, she was completely prepared for her upcoming exams.

"I studied," Ron said defensively. "Studied hard over the weekend, didn't we, mate?" He nudged Harry with his elbow.

"I can honestly say for the first time, I am almost ready to take my exams," Harry stated proudly. "Yesterday afternoon and evening, I went over all my readings and notes for Herbology, Potions, and the History of Magic."

"You're quite productive during your times with your father," Hermione said, as she pushed her now empty plate to the side. "So what does almost ready mean?"

"I feel confident in Herbology, History of Magic, and I would feel confident in Potions, except Skead hates me. I could write a perfect exam, and she would go out of her way to find faults with it," Harry said unhappily.

"Funny thing, that," Ron said as he chewed. "Since your dad is the other Potions professor here, you would think she would favor you instead of being so hard on you."

"I don't know." Elbows on the table, Harry rested his chin in his hands. "But knowing my father, he probably set her back up somehow, so now she's taking it out on me."

"In what way would your dad have pissed her off?" Ron asked, and then immediately looked sheepish. "Stupid question, but my brain is busily trying to remember all the different varieties of the hellebore plant. I guess the right question would be, how many different ways did your dad piss her off."

"Ron!" Hermoine frowned her disapproval. As soon as it was known that Snape was Harry's father, she was very careful never to say anything negative about their old potions professor.

"Well, they both teach potions, so it's inevitable that they have some dealings together," Ron said. "And Skead is such a scatterbrain, and we know that Snape has no patience with people like that."

"I'm the son of a Potions Master, and it's my worst subject." Harry was still glum. "It's embarrassing."

"Have you mentioned to Sna, your dad about how you think Skead is unfair with you?" Ron asked.

"No, but I showed him some of my essays, which I believe she marked down unfairly, but he didn't comment about it."

The three exchanged looks, as the same thought ran through their minds, how could Snape complain about something that he was guilty of?

"So how are you feeling about our upcoming exam in Care of Magical Creatures and Divination?" Ron asked the first question that popped into his head, so they could get off the uncomfortable subject of unfair potions professors.

"Hagrid's exam will just be demonstrating if you can properly handle and feed one of his creatures. I think I can manage that," Harry said confidently. He had somewhat of a knack for handling creatures of all types, magical and non-magical.

"As long as he doesn't have something like a nundu." Ron meant it as a joke, but a small part of him wouldn't put it past Hagrid do have some kind of really dangerous creature for their exam.

"Did you both study hard for your Divination exam today?" Hermoine asked. In their third year, she had started Divination classes with Harry and Ron but had lasted only a part of the year. She and Professor Trelawney had not hit it off.

"Kind of," Ron said vaguely. "Professor Firenza isn't as easy as Trelawney. With her all you needed was a good imagination, as long as it was grim and depressing."

"So even with a better professor." Hermoine stressed the word better, as she had always considered Trelawney to be somewhat of a fraud. "Your father chose that class for you to drop to make room for Occlumency."

"He's not high on being skilled in Divination," Harry said just as the bell rang, signaling that it was time to go to their first class. "Which is a bummer for me because Divination was a class that I both enjoyed and did okay in. I couldn't have been lucky enough for him to have chosen Potions or the History of Magic," he grumbled.

"Cheer up, mate." Ron slapped Harry on the back. "In exchange you get a one-on-one class with your father, who I believe is feeling just a little guilty about how he treated you these last five years. Occlumency should be a piece of cake."

Ottery St. Catchpole, The Burrow, December 24, 1996

"So that's a fellytone." Mr. Weasley studied his Christmas gift from Harry and Severus in delight, a muggle telephone.

"It's called a tel-e-phone," Harry enunciated slowly to his wizard audience, the whole Weasley family minus Percy, his father, and Remus Lupin.

"A telyphone," Arthur Weasley dutifully repeated. "Now, if I remember what you told me, I just have to put this part up to my ear," he carefully picked up the telephone receiver, "and I can talk to someone, right? Hello," he spoke into the receiver. "Hello. It doesn't seem to be working." He gave Harry a questioning look.

"Well, it wouldn't," Harry said which drew an immediate reaction from everyone in the room. Soft gasps, raised eyebrows, and a, "you bought us a broken gift," from the Weasley twins, who were immediately shushed by their mom. "No, it's not broken!" he quickly added. "It's just that in order for a muggle telephone to work it has to be connected into a muggle phone system."

"Phone system?" Ten pairs of puzzled eyes stared at him.

Sighing, Harry wished that Hermoine was with him to help explain to clueless wizards what a muggle phone system was. "The muggles have an organization which oversees their phones," he stammered a bit, as he tried to find a the right words to describe a phone system so that his audience would understand. "You pay them a fee every month, and then you're connected in the system. You're assigned a number, and then other people with phones dial your number, " he pointed to the numbers on the phone, "and can speak to you."

"Ahh." Arthur Weasley nodded. "Incredible," he marveled. "Those muggles are certainly clever. Imagine they can talk to all the other muggles, who own telyphones, and they don't need magic."

"There's got to be a spell that would make this telyphone work even though it's not connected to a muggle phone system." Fred Weasley was turning the telephone over and around, so he could inspect it from top to bottom. "Hey, Harry, if you could give us more details on the muggle phone system, I bet we could figure out how to magically connect our telyphone to it."

"If you," Severus paused, taking a deep breath, "gentlemen end up destroying the muggle phone system because you're casting spells to connect a phone magically, there will, I'm sure be an investigation, and it would not reflect well on your father." His dark eyes swept over the Weasley boys, Harry, and then stopped at Mr. Weasley.

"That's right. That's right," Arthur quickly agreed. "Doing something like that," he gave the twins a sharp glare, "would be very wrong, very wrong indeed."

Exchanging grins, Fred and George dutiful answered. "Of course, dad."

"That was a very thoughtful gift you gave us, dear." Molly Weasley gave Harry a pat on the shoulder, although the expression on her face was far from happy, as she muttered under her breath, about a certain wizard, who writes a loophole in the law, so he can tinker with all the muggle rubbish he owns. "Dinner is just about ready." She turned to announce, as she stomped off to the stove.

Stepping over to his father, Harry whispered in his ear. "Guess you were right; a muggle telephone wasn't the best idea for a Christmas gift for Mr. Weasley."

Severus didn't respond for a moment as his I-told-you-so expression said it all. "If the two Weasley terrors end up causing havoc with the muggle telephone system here in Great Britian, and the Ministry of Magic ends up involved, I will be informing them that the problem originated with you." He cocked an eyebrow at Harry, his dark eyes unreadable. "In the meantime, I suggest that you do not give any more information on the workings of the muggle phone system."

"That won't be hard, since I really don't know exactly how it wor. . ." Harry trailed off, as his father's expression went from smug to slightly forbidding. "Yes, sir," he finished meekly, just as Mrs. Weasley ordered them all to take a seat at the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lupin quickly covering up a smile with his hand. The DADA professor had heard the entire conversation.

Number 12 Grimmauld Place, December 31, 1996

The days at the Burrow had flown by with Harry enjoying his first ever Happy Christmas. Games of Quidditch, exploding snap, gobstones, wizard chess, and testing some of the Weasley twins' newest inventions for their company, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, filled his days and evenings. For a week he was just an average wizarding teenager enjoying the holidays.

Despite all the laughter and fun, not everything was perfect. Time with his father was very limited and never private. Harry found that he very much missed his one-on-one sessions with Snape.

"You look like you're having some deep thoughts." Tonks, a Junior Auror sat down beside Harry, interrupting his musing.

"No, just. . ." he broke off as Ron, Ginny, and Hermoine, who had just joined them that morning at the Weasleys, walked over to them. "Just wondering what we're having for dinner," he lied, not wanting to reveal that he was thinking about his father.

"You're hungry?" Ron asked with disbelief. "After the two bags of flavor beans, the twenty chocolate frogs, the. . . ."

"Shh." Harry gave Ron a discreet kick, as he looked across the room at Snape. His father had very good hearing. "If my dad knew all the candy we ate these last seven days, he'd throw a fit. He's very particular about proper diet."

"Not surprised about that," Tonks commented as she too looked across the room at Snape. "One can tell your dad keeps himself in good shape; he's got quite a body on him."

This statement caused Ron to choke, Harry's mouth to drop, and a gasp from Hermoine.

"Wot?" Tonks gave the three a defensive look.

"You sound like you might. . .might," Ron could hardly get the words out of his mouth, "fancy him."

"Well, back when I attended Hogwarts, I must admit I did harbor a small crush on him."

"We are talking about Snape, right?" Ron just wanted to clarify the situation. "Hogwarts' greasy potions professor? Sorry, Harry," he quickly apologized before Hermoine could chastise him. "But he's ugly and old."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Tonks said as her hair turned to a beautiful blond. "And he's not that old. When I graduated Hogwarts, we figured out that he was only 32, so that would make him 36, 37?" She cocked an eyebrow at Harry.

"I guess." Harry thought hard, trying to visualize his new birth certificate which the Ministry of Magic had issued. He had seen it briefly. Severus' full name and birth date had been there by father's name.

"You don't know your own father's date of birth?" Tonks exclaimed, as she once again glanced across the room at Snape.

"He's only been my father. . .er, I've only known him as my father since July," Harry defended himself. "And it's only been since November that he and I have started to get to know each other."

"Get to know each other?" Tonks asked.

"We have private times together," Harry explained, "where we talk about our days, he helps me with homework, and we just, just talk." A feeling of longing passed through him. It had been almost three weeks since he had had alone time with his father.

"Nice," Tonks said approvingly. "During any of these sessions, did you two have a talk about girl friends or lovers?"

"No!" Harry felt his face turn red. He couldn't in his wildest dreams picture having that kind of conversation with his father.

"Are you daft?" Ron asked, looking at Tonks like she had lost her mind. "Who talks about that kind of stuff with their parents?"

"Yes, but like Harry said, he and Snape have had a father, son relationship only for a few months now, and if they're working on getting to know each other. . ." Tonks trailed off, as she again looked across the room.

The three teenagers followed her gaze. She was staring at Snape.

"Omigod!" Ron looked at Harry in shock. "She still fancies your dad!"

"And what's wrong with that?" Tonks preened a bit, as her face did a couple of transformations. "He's a single, eligible wizard. Good bloodline, not that I care much about that, but it would make my mother happy, respected professor at Hogwarts, potions master. . . ."

"Former Death Eater," Harry broke in, hoping that fact would cool Tonk's interest. "What would your mum think about that?"

"Pft." Tonks gave Harry a where-have-you-been look. "Death Eaters, former Death Eaters, not unusual in my family. Besides there's nothing more exciting than a reformed bad boy. Think, I'll go reintroduce myself to your dad. Wonder if he remembers me from my days at Hogwarts?" She asked, as she started across the room.

Half way across the room, true to form, Tonks tripped over the carpet and went crashing into a table. Wincing in sympathy the three teens watched as she jumped up, assuring everyone she was okay and trying to right the table and everything she knocked off of it.

"Why do I have a feeling that my father most certainly remembers her?" Harry asked.

"Imagine what she was like in Potions class," Ron said, shaking his head. "She'd make Neville look good. And is that true," he turned to Hermoine, "that women find bad boys exciting?"

"Not all," Hermoine said quickly. "But yes, many do."

Ron shook his head some more. "Bloody women, who can understand them?"

Hogsmeade, January 2, 1997

Flooing into the Three Broomsticks, Harry stumbled out of the fireplace. Yawning widely, he took a couple of wobbly steps. He hadn't got much sleep over the holidays.

"Looks like you're going to need a holiday to recover from the holidays," Remus said with a smile.

"Didn't sleep much last night," Harry explained. "And getting up early this morning didn't help."

"Nine in the morning is not early," Snape commented, glaring out of the corner of his eyes at Harry.

"To a teenager it is." Remus ignored Snape's caustic tone. "Especially to a teenager on holiday. How about a refreshment for everyone? Harry looks like he needs one since he missed breakfast. My treat."

"There's enough sugar in that boy's system to last him the rest of the month." Snape was in no mood to sit around at the Three Broomsticks. "I prefer to get back to the castle. Once we're there, you," he gave Lupin a small sneer, "can ask the elves to make golden boy here a special breakfast."

"Don't call me that!" Harry immediately protested, but Snape had already turned and with robes billowing, had begun to walk toward the exit.

Remus gave him a rueful grin. "I think the holidays were a bit trying on your father. Would you still like a refreshment? You and I could stay and have something."

"No." Harry shook his head, feeling bad. Snape's hot and cold act was depressing. Just when he thought they had become closer, his father pulled away. "I'm not hungry. I've been eating candy with Ron almost nonstop since we arrived at the Weasley's. Let's just go." Trotting, he followed Snape out of the Three Broomsticks.

Harry's first instinct was to catch up to Snape and ask what he had done, but he hadn't gone but a few steps when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let him be for now, Harry," Remus advised. "He was on his best behavior this whole time at the Weasley's, and I think it took a toll on him."

Though uncertain, Harry slowed his pace. "If being at the Weasley's was uncomfortable for him, why did he decide that we should spend Christmas there?"

"I believe he did it for you," Remus said, hand still on Harry's shoulder. "Which, to be truthful, was a surprise to me. I never thought Severus capable of a unselfish, giving act."

"He turned against Voldemort and became a spy for the other side," Harry quickly reminded Lupin.

"To appease his own conscience," Remus began, when something in the air shifted. Stopping he looked around, just as Harry clapped a hand over his scar, muttering "Voldemort!"

The sky darkened ominously, and suddenly it was filled with hundreds of black, flying figures. Dementors! Harry felt himself go cold. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape turn and run toward him, yelling. Pulling out his wand, he willed himself to think happy thoughts, as he shouted, "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"

His vision blurred, as a thin wisp of silver sparked from his wand. There was a roaring in his ears, but he heard Lupin along side of him, also yelling, "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"

Silvery shapes appeared, standing between them and the dementors, and for a moment they had a reprieve, but their spells were no match for the hundreds of dementors that surrounded them.

Coldness filled his whole body as he fell to his knees, trying desperately to conjure up happy thoughts. He grasped at his memories of he holiday with the Weasley's, the times at the small kitchen table chatting with Snape, catching the snitch but the memories were slippery and kept appearing and disappearing. A putrid smell filled his nostrils, as he raised a shaking arm to try and cast another spell. His mouth opened, but his breath caught in his chest. He felt strong, clammy hands press around his neck, and then a blessed nothingness.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Harry. Harry."

He could hear a faint voice over the roaring in his ears, as he felt someone shaking him hard.

"Harry! Wake up!"

"Dontwantto." He feebly tried to push the hands off of him, as consciousness swept over him. Chilled to the bone, he felt nauseous and weak.

"Harry, eat this." A small piece of chocolate was shoved in his mouth.

"I-I. . . ." Teeth chattering from cold, Harry spit out the chocolate. Eyes finally opening, he found himself in the Hogwarts' infirmary with Snape and Lupin standing on each side of him. "I'm cold," he finally managed to sputter out.

Casting a warming spell on a blanket, Snape wrapped another one around his shoulders, while Lupin held out another piece of chocolate. "You need to eat this."

Taking the chocolate with a trembling hand, Harry slowly raised it to his mouth while asking, "Dementors?" He felt himself shaking. Since his first encounter with Dementors, he had always seemed to be more affected by them than other people.

Remus gave Snape a long look before answering. "It appears that He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named has gained some allies."

"He's taken over Azkaban then," Harry said miserably. "So that's why Voldemort had been quiet lately; it wasn't because he was licking his wounds over what happened at Hogsmeade, it was because he was in negotiations with the dementors." He swallowed hard, trying to get the chewed up chocolate down his throat but it seemed to stick halfway.

Both Snape and Lupin winced at Harry saying the Dark Lord's name out loud, when a poof was heard from Madam Pomfrey's fireplace and then the unmistakable voice of Albus Dumbledore. "Severus? Remus?"

"I'll talk to him." Snape turned to walked over to the infirmary's fireplace.

"I feel like I'm never going to be warm again," Harry complained as he hunched deeper into the blankets wrapped around him.

"You need more chocolate." Remus held out another piece for him.

Taking it with a shaking hand, Harry could hear his father telling Dumbledore about the attack. "What happened to the dementors? Did our Patronus Charms drive them away?"

"Some. In the end it was your. . .father's spell that saved us all," Remus explained.

"Did he cast a patronus charm too?" Harry took a small bite of his chocolate, as he tried to imagine what animal would embody Snape's positive thoughts.

"No," Remus said. "He cast a spell which I'm not familiar with."

A moment of silence and then Harry said, "a dark spell."

Remus nodded his head yes, as Snape returned from the fireplace.

"Albus and Minvera are on their way to the Ministry of Magic. They'll be meeting with Fudge immediately," Severus told them. "So they won't be arriving here until tomorrow, so it's just the three of us here for now. Lupin," his eyes swept over Remus, "would you object to spending the night in my quarters? Safety in numbers, you know."

"Actually Severus," Lupin gave Harry a wink, "after what happened to us outside, I'm planning to stick very close to you. If more Dementors attack, I'm counting on you to save me." Remus and Harry grinned at each other, despite the scowl that crossed Severus' face. "I'll go and get a few things." He turned to leave the infirmary.

"Stop and ask the house elves if they can make us some dinner," Snape called out after him, as he looked down at Harry. "And I'll conjure a stretcher for you."

"I think I can walk." Harry swung his legs around, so they dangled over the bed. "I'm just so cold."

"Maybe this will help." Snape slipped out of his robes and wrapped them around Harry.

The robes were warm from body heat and had his father's distinctive odor. Feeling slightly better, Harry cautiously slid off the bed and shuffled toward the door.

Lying in Severus' bed, still wrapped in his father's robes, Harry was finally feeling slightly warmer. Eyes heavy, he dozed lightly, comforted by the sounds of the voices of his father and Lupin.

"Care to explain to me about that curse you used against the Dementors?" Comfortably seated in Snape's sitting room, the two men were sharing a bottle of single malt scotch.

"No," Snape answered as he studied the shot glass in his hand.

"We're at war, Severus." Remus eyeing the man across the room. "This isn't some teenage competition. Sharing information would be. . . ."

"As you probably already discerned," Snape interrupted, "the spell I used was a dark curse. Dark magic is frowned upon here at Hogwarts. If you want me to teach you that spell, then you need to speak to Albus first."

"Did you tell Albus that you used a dark curse to save us?"

"Yes." Snape was still staring at the glass in his hand. "I've told him truthfully that I will use everything and anything I know to keep my son alive, even dark magic. And Albus can say nothing to the contrary because after all saving Harry is in everyone's best interests."

"Just what do you plan to do?" Remus asked curiously.

"Teach him whatever he needs to know." Snape finally raised his eyes to meet Lupin's. "And if that includes dark curses and hexes, then so be it."

"Dark magic can be seductive, as I know you're fully aware of." Remus reached for the bottle of scotch to refill his glass. "I just hope Harry doesn't let it take over him."

"Right now all I care about is preparing Harry to defeat the Dark Lord. After that," Snape shrugged carelessly, "we'll see."

Epilogue

January 3, 1997

It was early morning when Harry woke. Still swathed in Snape's robes, he felt a warm body next to him. Unwrapping himself, he spooned up against his father's back not caring that Snape was not comfortable with human contact.

Harry's stirring aroused Severus. Lifting his head, he look over at his son. "Still cold, child?"

"No." Harry snuggled closer to Snape's lean form. "Not anymore."

****

Finis

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