Lady Malfoy, née Black, was deep in thought. Family was family. Whatever her beloved husband decided, she'd deal with her brother's affairs personally. This was not up for discussion. Maybe she'd admit Andromeda to them, but most likely only with an advisory vote. Alas, now this was practically impossible—she didn't even properly know where to look for her. Though... send an owl?..
Just think—from the still-recently so large and strong family remained one single worthless thirty-five-year-old fool!.. And if it came to his life and death, she'd step over parental prohibition. Mudbloods, imagine... Even Muggles! The last chance to restore the family she'd been daughter of, Narcissa would tear out, gnaw out, knock out by hook or by crook.
Oh, by the way! Her son also stepped over the line. Really for the same? Though reasonably he couldn't yet approach this due to age. But instinctively... Still, Black blood in him was half—already considerable. But doing this to her, his own mother?! Draco needed punishment. Serious punishment. Because one more such step and he quite might become that very traitor the Weasleys loved branding people.
Deprive him of a broom? Money? Trips to friends? He didn't particularly strive to visit anyone anyway. Finally a decent idea struck her—remember her own childhood and those moments when offense literally burned through her. Childhood...
Being the youngest was hard. Quite rare adult injustice could be explained by ignorance, haste, busyness. But sisters... They knew everything about her. She herself came to them with her childish secrets. They were mainly in her small world. And when they grew older, she wanted living in one room with them—to not part at all. But older sisters precisely then got secrets from her. Oh, how painful it was—hearing them whispering but not distinguishing words, seeing them saying something terribly interesting and knowing it was inaccessible.
Narci remembered her most terrible offense. Bella who once accused her that her sister couldn't keep secrets. And she'd only mentioned in conversation with Mother that she and Meda talked about the Lestranges! They could've at least warned this was a secret! She wouldn't have told anyone then, not even accidentally!
Merlin, I've been an adult long, overall everything's fine, and poor crazy Bella's in Azkaban. Meda's struck from the family. But I... I still haven't stopped hurting, Narcissa thought. No, this won't do. High time forgetting this offense, pushing it far away. Eh, if everything were so simple.
She sighed, understanding some childhood wounds don't heal. Even if later they don't seem serious. And as for secrets...
Whatever anyone thought of her as a society lady (and society as known was unthinkable without gossip), Narcissa Black truly knew how to keep secrets. She was sixteen when cousin Sirius after his first year that summer told her, asking to keep secret, that he'd befriended a werewolf. Nobody learned of this. Honestly, Narci herself didn't believe it at first. But then Sirius started sharing such details she climbed into the library, read everything about werewolves she could find and understood—cousin wasn't lying or making it up.
Oh, she'd given it to him then! First of all for unjustified risk. But if he didn't listen to his own mother and father, how could she, just an upper year, make a teenager see reason.
She'd been a clever and observant girl. So before her last winter at Hogwarts arrived, she'd figured out who this werewolf was. And yes, nobody learned this till now. Except Sirius of course—she'd told him immediately. He appreciated it. And for her, often not taken seriously by sisters, his respect was pleasant. So later during rare meetings he with pleasure shared some adventures with her, including with Lupin who—imagine—graduated with honors. Learning this from her cousin, she made a simple conclusion that werewolves apparently could be far more dangerous than she'd been used to thinking.
No, she had absolutely no interest in where he'd disappeared when his friend Sirius got in trouble. And why never tried helping him. If Blacks couldn't, where was a werewolf to manage. Though he'd been covered by Dumbledore himself at school—to him he surely could've turned! And the Supreme Mugwump himself didn't lift a finger... No, about Dumbledore she wouldn't even think anymore.
Very strange friends her cousin had then, must say. Only Potter was more or less—if closing eyes to his fixation on a mudblood. Only about this too Narcissa held her tongue.
***
In the morning she woke her husband early. Had to discuss something while Draco slept.
As expected, Lucius was more worried that apparently Harry Potter was set against Dumbledore. And not just set but even ready... No, already doing!
"Unexpected of course, but I'm sure we weren't told everything by far," Narcissa objected. "Too early for conclusions."
To which Lucius answered quite reasonably:
"The less you know, the more you sleep. The only problem is waking one day won't be pleasant at all. And if you want to live normally further, you'll have to make conclusions. I hope Draco will still end his confrontation with Potter and we can learn more. It's very important not to make mistakes now. And I'll talk with Severus."
"Has he become so close to you?" Narcissa raised eyebrows.
"Main thing—for him to consider me close enough. You know... Snape's worthy of communication and even help. I wouldn't mind bringing him into my circle. Even into family. That would be very convenient. And not only I think so."
"The Lord was no fool—he chose the best, you mean that?"
Lucius flinched but nodded.
"And not only the Lord. But he senses falseness like he grew his nose specifically for this."
"Childish jab," she snorted. "But a quality quite useful for his master. What common business do you have?"
So Lucius had to share with his wife common plans with Snape and some others for neutralizing the Lord if he suddenly appeared. Narcissa's eyes widened. Her husband really intended to get involved in this?
"If not us, then who?" He produced an almost Gryffindor motto, finally driving his wife into stupor.
She loved her husband. But... something was missing from the ideal man in her understanding. Lucius was definitely handsome, even charismatic, courteous, interesting, talented in some things. But there wasn't even a hint of a real fighter that unexpectedly interested her in Snape. Maybe this was called courage? She wasn't sure.
Until the incident in the bookshop a year ago, she'd been certain Lucius generally wasn't capable of hitting anyone—whether with spell, weapon or fist. No, she didn't consider him a coward. But... there wasn't in him that drop of aggressiveness which it seemed to her made a man more man than other representatives of his sex.
If Merlin forbid something happened, would he prevent a blow at her? At Draco? Manage covering them or striking back? She strongly doubted—considered her husband too much a pacifist for this. And not because he couldn't—rather didn't want to get dirty. And loved himself too much—that's a fact. And now when he opened before her the door to a strange room and started showing unusual weapons, she looked at her husband with completely different feelings... Very strange feelings.
Turned out after all these years of married life, the sight of Lucius could still evoke in her quite definite interest. True, he was worth it—always cold icy-gray eyes glowed with some inner fire when he turned to her, having shot the entire clip practically into bullseye. Mordred, her man with weapons looked like... Narcissa pressed her lips—talking business with him now would be quite difficult for her. But necessary. Was she a Black or not?!
Then of course they argued about Sirius.
"In the end he's my brother. Meaning acting is mine. Don't forget my maiden name, dear."
"Narci, darling, I just don't want you to risk it. Anything but that."
"There are several options—Polyjuice, invisibility and... old connections. New ones too. Lady Finch-Fletchley's quite capable of inviting me to another event with Her Majesty's presence."
"I like the last option better. But will you manage to track Black then?"
"I haven't had any amusing eccentricities for long. And a lady should have them. Imagine—I'll get passionate about English Bulldogs and buy myself one. Don't worry, won't drag him to the estate. If conditions there are fine, let him live in some kennel. We'll find where security's better. By the way, Harry left me this Miss Dursley's address. If her kennel's reputable... might get acquainted."
"With a Muggle?"
"With a kennel, dear. And who maintains and services it is tenth matter, isn't it?"
Her husband nodded, watching her attentively. She continued.
"By the way, about Draco. Best he'll feel punishment if he learns no-thing more. Swear you won't tell our son."
"Darling, how devious you are! How will he feel understanding we have secrets from him..."
"And we'll definitely confer in your, dear, office..." Narcissa smiled victoriously and proceeded to this very office.
Plan "Lady Chooses Herself a Doggie" Lucius helped develop in detail in ten minutes.
"Draco's already standing by the doors," Narcissa whispered quietly.
"You offend me, darling," her husband leaned to her. "I'm still the master of this house. The boy heard exactly two phrases after which I cast silencing. He must know what he's lost."
"Our trust?" Lady Malfoy looked at her husband with interest and ran her hand over his cheek and neck. Casually lowered her hand to the hollow between collarbones, moved aside the silk shirt collar. Lucius inhaled deeply and drew his wife to himself, once again marveling at her thin waist. Soon silencing proved timely as never.
When they came out, Draco didn't even manage jumping from the doors. So he didn't appreciate parents' light healthy flush and some carelessness in Mother's hairstyle and Father's clothes. The poor thing was quickly taken to task. He was punished for... oh no, not eavesdropping but for not disappearing in time. Father's main thought was that Draco was right—information ownership was undoubtedly important. But methods for obtaining it should be correct. Malfoy-like. Namely—safe and unnoticeable. And yes, his favorite broom was still taken away.
But how Mother's eyes flashed when Father whispered to her they'd have to confer in his office as often as possible—Draco remembered.
The Malfoys sent to school an angry, sulky but besides that very, very thoughtful son...
And Lady Malfoy, more precisely her friend Lady Manners, arranged with Miss Dursley a visit by two ladies to her kennel—modest but quite highly rated among connoisseurs.
***
"So, I'm not here," Snape declared, instantly jumping into the carriage. Handed Harry personal painkiller. Muggle analgesic—potions still didn't work on his charge. Though now on himself either.
"How did you?.." Hermione started but Snape with one gesture made her silent.
"Mr. Malfoy, you couldn't conjure well as you sat closest to dementors. So you got a sphere," he instructed his student and turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger say got nothing. Potter—hippogriff as per legend. Execute. Rest at school tomorrow... no, the day after tomorrow evening."
"Yes, sir!" Harry managed saying only this. Snape disappeared as if never appearing.
"Nothing worked? For me?" Hermione mewed offendedly after him. But this was completely useless.
Malfoy's jaw dropped. But he nodded, though already completely unclear to whom and why.
"How did he... leave like that?" Draco and Harry asked each other simultaneously.
"Magic," Hermione responded calmly and slightly sarcastically. "We're almost there anyway."
Both guys stared at her. But the girl only shrugged.
"Wait, Potter... So I have a hippogriff." Malfoy spread a satisfied smile which immediately fell. He stared at Potter dumbfounded, quite unaristocratically poking a finger at him. "And you have Snape?! Holy shi-it... Potter's Patronus is my dean..."
Harry sighed. When Malfoy sat with them he'd sensed a catch...
"No-o, if you don't want me turning you all in, you'll tell me everything! Swear!"
Draco's face showed he wouldn't live till the day after tomorrow. But had to exit the carriage...
Harry sighed and swore telling what Snape allowed. Against the dean Malfoy had nothing objecting. Looked questioningly at Hermione.
"What do I have to do with it? These are all his secrets." She nodded at Harry. "How much longer will we sit here?"
Draco Malfoy automatically offered his hand to the girl exiting the carriage. Only then heard "ah" from a couple of carriages that arrived... Of course Parkinson, Nott and... who else? He smiled crookedly—too late for reacting.
"Granger. Please limp! I'll owe you."
Hermione nodded understandingly, favored her right leg and leaned on Harry's timely offered arm.
"After dinner in the library by History of Magic shelves," she suggested.
The boys nodded together. The place was convenient—in one of the far and almost unvisited corners.
***
Rumors that some student's Patronus was an actual dragon reached the headmaster faster than children entered the hall. Another ceremonial dinner opening the new term wasn't marked by the headmaster's speech this time—Professor Dumbledore simply greeted students. Snape immediately understood this boded ill...
The speech came next day. The headmaster long and detailed described "school guards'" danger, necessity of their presence because of terrible criminal Sirius Black. When talk reached the godfather, Harry barely restrained himself. Fortunately the headmaster again transitioned to describing what dementor presence entailed.
"Like someone didn't know earlier what nasty things they are," Harry muttered under his neighbors' approving looks and listened to what else they'd say.
They said... They had to clench their teeth tighter not to curse. And not just Harry but Hermione too. It was announced that now the whole school, even first-years, would learn the Patronus charm. And not only in Defense lessons but also at special electives. And to Hogsmeade they wouldn't let anyone who couldn't create a Patronus, at least incorporeal.
Schoolchildren made noise. On one hand this was good—mastering such strong and useful spell. On the other... wouldn't measures be taken against those whose spell didn't work, besides restricting village trips? After all Dumbledore sort of mentioned in passing that dark wizards couldn't create Patronuses...
"Wonder if that's really true?" His friend whispered in Harry's ear. "Snape and Black both seem like dark wizards..."
Harry only snorted in response.
When professors were distributed by years for conducting electives—more precisely mandatory additional Defense lessons—it turned out Harry Potter had absolutely nowhere to go. Third year the headmaster himself took.
Even Malfoy, already generally initiated into what was happening (true, special cut and lightened version about supposedly Harry's trauma necessitating blood transfusion resulting in him and Snape becoming blood relatives—with Smethwyck they'd coordinated this version just in case too) got sympathy from Harry.
Draco generally marveled at himself—he completely didn't want quarreling with Potter who'd stopped reacting to former jabs. But wanted communicating—with him became very interesting. And the mudblood proved capable of most curious ideas. What was that she tried with all her might making her glowing sphere at least resemble a dragon, counting on "covering" the Slytherin dean himself. Draco lost speech for almost a minute then.
When he found it, explained popularly to both Gryffindors that if Granger didn't want to be betrothed to someone right during this year, shouldn't force events. How they were surprised!
Malfoy long giggled looking at their faces when guys heard how quickly and easily one could make a "real" pedigree for Muggleborn—pay for adoption by any wizard. Who takes how much? Or another option—order documents. But since part of document circulation, especially concerning inheritance and therefore genealogy, goblins handled—this path's pricier. By the way, Muggleborn wizards themselves sometimes resorted to this. If money and ambitions sufficed of course. That is very, very rare. Well no, ambitions were there. But earning in a magical world for those without connections...
Potter and Granger listened barely, not opening mouths. Especially when Draco named a couple surnames with "corrected" pedigrees. Then purebloods who'd made "correct" documents for their own children's spouses.
"If this isn't even a secret, then what's the point?"
"Actually I'm sharing exclusive information with you, Granger. Appreciate it," Draco snorted.
"So Blacks also could've?.." Harry didn't continue—everything was clear.
"Of course. If they hadn't been, hmm... so aggressively inclined. By the way, Granger..."
Draco thought a bit—a simply magnificent idea came to him. Only telling a mudblood would she do him the honor somehow... too much. Gryffindors looked expectantly. Finally he was struck by something heard at the edge of his ear:
"By the way, Granger," he dropped as carelessly as possible. "Will you marry me?"
Their faces' expressions he'd long recall with pleasure—it was worth it! Potter's eyes generally became almost bigger than his glasses. And Granger... It was magnificent!
When the girl finally found speech, came strained:
"Malfoy... you were joking, right?"
Draco smirked. Granger till this time hadn't particularly interested him except as intellectual appendage to Potter. Even now he felt toward her personally only healthy curiosity.
"Draco, please... You can't stand me! Don't joke like this, I'm asking..."
"And what will I get for this?" He couldn't resist. But noticed Potter clenched his hand into fist. "By the way, precisely so everything will happen if Nott learns of this. Or Crabbe." He paused because Potter ground his teeth and Granger choked on air. Finished: "Or Goyle."
Draco continued enjoying while the girl horror-struck grabbed her head.
"That's why I'm warning you," he finished in a slightly mentorish tone and saw how Potter relaxed.
This is intere-esting, Draco drawled to himself. But naturally I didn't share it with anyone. For what did Father read his morals during holidays? Must transfer attention to something else.
And tormenting Granger and Potter apparently could be done like this. This was... sophisticated and beautiful! Also far more fun than any insults. Main thing—nobody hears how he is supposedly hitting on this mudblood. Would tell Father and could not return home. But how she reacts... masterpiece! Though Potter's good too.
"You, Granger, will most likely get a surname Dagworth added. Did you read about Dagworth-Grangers? Decent potioneers by the way."
"I not only read, I checked," the girl surprised him. "Not relatives to any degree."
"Will be relatives if someone gets it into their head taking you as wife," Draco shrugged. "Strong witch is useful acquisition for many families."
Hermione, imagining herself this very "acquisition," opened her mouth to protest. Didn't manage—Snape came in a terrible mood and kicked them out from detention. By the way, detention punishments the Potions professor literally showered them with now served as cover for communication in a private setting not just with him but with Malfoy.
Draco instantly wormed into the small conspirators' company not just as keeper of Patronus information but also as liaison on Sirius's case, executing Mother's order. Lucius Malfoy from his side contributed, hinting at the usefulness of his own offspring to his dean. So nowhere to go from Malfoy Junior...
***
Dumbledore didn't hurry revealing the new strong mage. First worth insuring himself. So with the most interesting age where the Chosen and his unexpectedly expanded circle were, volunteered working personally. Well, he knew how to explain. And Fawkes would perfectly fulfill his role, slightly changing his appearance if agreeing with him. True, lately the phoenix for some reason started capricing.
Precisely because persuading the familiar took the headmaster several days, the Defense elective for third year was among the last. Not to waste his precious time, the headmaster gathered all the houses at once in one of the halls. Simultaneously convenient observing all inter-house relationships—also quite important.
When he entered the hall, children behaved calmly—talked, whispered, and laughed. Nobody was conflicted. Friendly Hufflepuff separated Gryffindor and Slytherin. Ravenclaws immersed in their own thoughts as usual stood slightly aside.
"What do you know about the Patronus charm?" The headmaster asked after greeting. A forest of raised hands showed the third year came theoretically prepared. Even Gryffindor. Well... alright.
After a small but substantial conversation he risked asking if anyone had questions about this. With surprise noted this time nobody raised a hand. Not even Hermione Granger.
"Well then, since you're such experts in theory..."
Ah, finally...
"Of course, Miss Granger." Dumbledore nodded benevolently.
"Headmaster," the girl stood. "Actually there are very many questions. But first I really want to try practicing. Thank you."
And sat. The headmaster saw some students almost applauded. Even Slytherin! No, he'd put the whole stream together wrongly. Inconvenient observing—eyes literally scattered... But had to start practicing. Still probably should at least sometimes work with children, Dumbledore thought, watching an unfamiliar girl from Ravenclaw explaining something to a happily nodding Lavender Brown. Miss Greengrass discussed wand movement with Miss Bones.
Potter and Malfoy, playing experienced, helped everyone they could reach (Malfoy—whoever he wanted). Hermione who preferred working independently constantly got quite a stable glowing sphere. Sometimes with tail that gradually started becoming flatter and resembling a shield—only convex from both sides. The girl almost cried until Finnigan whispered something in her ear.
Harry saw his friend looking at her Patronus with completely different eyes. Got interested too.
"Flying saucer! Harry, Seamus noticed my Patronus looks very much like a flying saucer!"
"That's something..." Harry rounded his eyes. It really looked like it. "Alien civilization will save us!"
"Don't know about civilization but hope for sharp edges... Think they'll manage to cut these creatures' heads off well?" The girl's smile became unusually predatory. Harry appreciated it.
"Probably... And if it's spinning..."
"You mean so it also rotates? Must think..."
By lesson's end to the headmaster's surprise glowing clouds of different sizes appeared in everyone. Even Crabbe and Goyle. Well why not? The stimulus was there, what a stimulus! More precisely many stimuli continued patrolling school borders. When something resembling a dragon's maw but clearly plant origin grew from Neville Longbottom, the headmaster got interested and talked with him for a long.
Inside Draco was jumping—so wanted to boast about his hippogriff. He'd even thought up a name: Thunder. But sticking out wasn't Slytherin-like. So it had to endure. However when toward lesson's end the headmaster announced now everyone would be shown how making real corporeal Patronuses, his hand rose itself. Before Potter's. Who incidentally sat quieter than water, lower than grass. Draco honestly understood him very well.
Draco Malfoy first volunteered, demonstrating his Patronus alerted the headmaster. He looked questioningly at Harry. But the boy sat with lowered head and didn't raise eyes to him. Under the headmaster's heart arose a bad feeling... He nodded to Draco—what else was there to do?
And the whole year it admired a gorgeous glowing Hippogriff.
Inside the headmaster something seemed snapping.
"Let's thank Mr. Malfoy for excellent demonstration! Twen..." His voice almost broke. "Twenty points to Slytherin... M-Mr. Potter?.."
Harry sighed.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Professor Snape, not changing black color—just like real, only wrapped in glowing halo—rushed through the classroom and flew out to the corridor.
After silence literally exploded with exclamations which proved extraordinarily difficult distinguishing anything at all.
"Fawkes," the headmaster whispered. "Expecto Patronum," he exhaled in full voice. Clutching the familiar, he left the classroom.
Needed at least coming to himself. Everything proved too unexpected even for him. Especially for him...
Harry felt not particularly well—he faced explanations with his house. However, to his surprise, the first to approach was Malfoy. And first—again!—extended his hand which Harry this time warmly shook.
Slytherins and Gryffindors continued looking at each other until Hannah Abbott approached Neville Longbottom to also shake his hand...
"Slytherin congratulates Gryffindor on Patronus' creation successes!" Michael Corner commented. "My world... oh no, our world will never be the same!"
"Well done, Potter." Theo Nott clapped Harry's shoulder and immediately chuckled. "Tomorrow's Potions. Slytherin's with you if anything."
"Tha... thank you." Harry shuffled his foot, and got angry. Decided since it went this way, shocking everyone.
Nott made a glassy stare and stepped away. Laughed a bit later and... showed Potter thumbs up.
Surprisingly calm behaved... Ron Weasley. Sat at desk absorbed in some calculations. To the question whether everything was fine, answered only that he was trying to determine what Patronus he might have. Like maybe not worth trying at all—if someone like Snape crawled out, he definitely wouldn't survive.
The old friend's sympathetic look pleased Harry far more than expected. The whole house, thanks to Nott remembering what awaited Harry tomorrow, already looked at their "hero" a bit differently.
"Gryffindor brings its leader condolences for what Slytherin congratulated him on," Corner continued, clearly discovering in himself commentator talent.
"Come watch what Potter gets tomorrow from Professor Patronus!" Weasley finally barked. For the first time in many days it was supported... By everyone.
"And risk commenting," Hermione flashed eyes toward Corner who slightly faltered.
"Courage, Potter!" Almost everyone leaving the class encouraged Harry. Hardest for him was keeping worried-sad expressions the whole time instead of laughing freely.
***
By evening the most fantastic stories crawled through school about how Snape saved Harry Potter from either rabid dog or Death Eaters or You-Know-Who. The last phrase incidentally Harry launched personally, simultaneously swearing telling the truth and nothing but truth. And how anyone understood what precisely the phrase "you-know-who" meant definitely wasn't his concern, he decided. Malfoy with bodyguards passing nearby of course completely accidentally appreciated this as a successful bout of Slytheriness. But it didn't attract attention.
At Potions lesson Potter got only one warning that if he continued working carelessly, his Patronus would fulfill a slightly different function—namely teaching him potions. Additionally. Harry barely held back a smile and exhaled.
Snape's stock at school gradually started rising. Slytherin was proud of their dean—you had to manage impressing so much to become a Patronus. By the way, not just anyone's but "magical world hero's"—for Dark Lord's followers after "light forces'" victory, simply wise and truly Slytherin-like. Gryffindor quietly rejoiced that the professor didn't do anything terrible to Potter. Imagine, detentions—Potter returns from them like from a walk home.
Harry with Malfoy's help launched another rumor about blood transfusion and "te-errible trauma in Muggle world." Gradually everything started calming. After all whatever the Patronus, main thing it handled its function. Potter's Patronus handled simply beautifully. Harry was already invited several times walking to the border—someone really wanted hearing "fifty points from dementors" again. Hogwarts gradually got imbued with their Potions professor's coolness.
Happy Malfoys sent heir a huge package with all sorts of treats which got (accidentally, during next detention) to Potter and Granger too.
Ron Weasley practically moved to the Runes office, for which Madam Babbling gave him a special student password. He returned to native house only to sleep. Well and of course he didn't forget to eat. Talking with him could be quite normal if he didn't hang so often and long thinking about something of his own. By the way, after several Defense lessons he got one of the first—a small dog resembling a fox terrier.
"Seems like him," Hermione shared with her friend. "How fox terriers latch on to death—Ron seems latched onto his problem. And if he solves it seems he'll return to us. What do you think?"
"Don't know and won't presume. Do you want this?"
"What? Him being with us again? We-ell... depends what kind. But I definitely like his changes."
"Stopped scandaling, stuffing himself mindlessly too. Got thoughtful. Yes, many pluses. But I would like more. Well, you understand..."
Hermione nodded. They needed allies. Probably the more the better. Difficulty only needed reliable allies.
Only the dragon Patronus's owner still wasn't found though professors and the headmaster himself checked all students' progress personally and quite thoroughly. In the end Dumbledore decided most likely it was one of the parents worried about their child who then went to Hogsmeade and Apparated. He over tea comprehensively discussed this question with each dean. Got clear proof both Flitwick and Snape thought the same as him but about the mage's identity were at a loss. His person in Hogsmeade reported that on students' arrival day over two dozen people passed through fireplaces, among whom were former graduates and three strangers.
Now weaning Harry from Severus Snape will be quite problematic, the headmaster thought absolutely correctly. But making Severus himself turn from the boy apparently will have to...
And he started unhurriedly, with relish developing another plan.
Meanwhile Severus Snape once again thanked Harry for giving blood and wrote a report for Hippocrates Smethwyck.