kbinnz - Harry's New Home

Harry was a little surprised to see that Hermione was getting more credit for Umbridge's removal than he was, but since he genuinely preferred not to attract people's notice, he didn't mind at all. Jones and Percy were too relieved at not being punished for attacking a faculty member to want to remind anyone of their role in the incident, so a puzzled Hermione accepted the congratulations of the other students.

Fudge, although initially alarmed by Umbridge's disappearance and quick to blame Hogwarts staff for it, rapidly changed his tune when confronted with the Blood Quill and pensieved memories of Umbridge's claims. He hastily denied sending her to Hogwarts with those instructions and claimed that she was obviously unbalanced. Having thoroughly disavowed his erstwhile chief assistant, he had fled the school, muttering that he would have the Aurors look into the disappearance. No one expected him to press the matter too strongly, as it would hardly do him any good if the missing witch were found. Dumbledore had been rather angered by Fudge's desire to sweep the matter under the rug, but McGonagall calmed him by pointing out that while it seemed they would never know where the witch had gone, she doubted Umbridge would ever be seen in Britain again. Dumbledore had sighed and agreed, while Snape had done his best not to shiver at the cool ruthlessness of the head of Gryffindor. And he'd thought he could be vengeful!

With Umbridge gone and his relations with the other students once again untroubled, Harry settled happily into the new term. Dumbledore had resumed teaching DADA classes again, having resignedly abandoned the quest to obtain a replacement instructor for the rest of the year, and Harry had high hopes that all the mysterious goings on would come to a halt now that Umbridge was gone.

Things were going well тАУ the other kids were generally treating him as the undistinguished firstie that he longed to be, his professors seemed pleased with his work, his da allowed him and his friends to help with potion ingredients a few times a week, Quidditch was still fun, even though the winter weather meant that their practices were mostly indoor, off-broom strategy sessionsтАж Yes, all told, Harry felt that this was what a first year at Hogwarts should be: no trolls or Dark Lords or Blood Quills.

Unlike Harry, Snape did not relax. It had been several weeks since Umbridge had left, but unlike Harry, Snape was unconvinced that the mysterious enemy's attacks had ceased. There was of course the possibility that the Pink Toad Bitch Witch Now In Hell had been responsible, but he couldn't shake the conviction that that kind of covert campaign would not have appealed to Umbitch, who had had the subtlety of a brick.

Sure enough, it was barely two weeks after Umbridge's "mysterious disappearance" that Snape's continuing vigilance was rewarded. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and a bored Harry had descended upon the dungeons, complaining that everyone else was busy and he had nothing to do.

As he had anticipated, his guardian had promptly ordered him into the lab for several hours of potion ingredient preparation at his side. Harry had worked contentedly, wondering why his da always seemed to prefer scolding him into the lab rather than accepting Harry's offer to help. Still, the end result was the same, and this way his da didn't get that befuddled look on his face.

After over four hours of pickling, slicing, dicing, and shredding, Snape dismissed Harry and went to his office to collect a pile of papers for grading. Harry got washed up тАУ the jellyfish tentacles tended to squish all over him when he tried to puree them тАУ and settled himself comfortably on his bed with one of the books that Remus had sent him. Harry had gotten rather addicted to the Jasper Goodfellow тАУ Auror of the Light series, and Remus was kind enough to send him a new title every month or so. He toyed with the idea of calling a house elf and asking for a snack, but he decided that in an hour or so, he would go into his da's office and whinge about being hungry. That usually resulted in the two of them having tea together while Snape scolded Harry about not eating properly. Harry grinned. His da really was pretty funny!

Having retrieved his grading and a soon-to-be-needed headache-relieving potion, Snape settled onto the living room couch. He had just finished excoriating the first student's work when his long nose suddenly twitched. What was that?

He sniffed again. Wormwood? Why did he smell wormwood? The only nearby jars were securely locked away in his potions cupboard. Suspicions afire, he drew his wand and stalked towards his supply closet, only to halt in utter shock at the sight before him.

The cupboard had been trashed. There was no other word for it. The doors stood open; one hung askew. Shelves had been swept clean, their contents scattered all over the floor in a malodorous stew. Hours of hard work had been undone in mere moments.

Snape gripped his wand so hard he feared it would snap. Who dared to commit such an outrage? Who would come to his private quarters and destroy his personal property like this? When he got his hands on them тАУ and then he saw the footprints.

The culprit had obviously been unaware that in stepping in the sludge he had created, he had smeared some of the mess on the bottom of his shoes. A trail led out of the cupboard, and Snape, still pale with rage, promptly followed.

The prints were small, indicating one of the younger students, which surprised Snape. He would not have expected a crime of this magnitude from one of the younger children, though perhaps they had been put up to it by one of the older ones. Still, who would do such a thing? Someone from a Death Eater family, sending a message to the traitor? Someone who had felt the rough edge of his tongue and wanted revenge? He couldn't imagine that one of his snakes would be stupid enough to earn his wrath in this fashion, and surely the Ravenclaws would be too bright, the Hufflepuffs too timid, leaving тАУ of course тАУ the Gryffindors. Wood, maybe? He could easily use his Quidditch captain status to inveigle one of the younger students into doing his dirty work. Or perhaps тАУ Snape jerked to a halt as he realized where the trail had led him.

"Hi, Da," Harry said cheerfully. "I'm hungry. D'you think we could have tea?"

Snape blinked at the boy. Harry was reclining on his bed, his stocking feet insouciantly propped against the bedpost, with one of those inane storybooks open on his chest.

Surely no one was that good an actor. But how else to explain the footprints?

Harry looked on in puzzlement as Professor Snape ignored his greeting and instead made a beeline for the shoes he had kicked off when he climbed into bed. Surely his da wasn't annoyed by the fact that he hadn't lined them up neatly?

"How did your shoes come to be this soiled?" Snape asked, holding up one shoe so that Harry could see the goo slowly dripping off the sole.

"Yuk! What is that stuff?" Harry asked, wrinkling his nose. He rolled to his knees and held out a hand for the shoe, which his father snatched back.

"Put on your slippers and come with me. I will show you exactly what it is."

Harry shrugged and obeyed. A moment later, he gaped at the destruction of the supply cupboard just as his father had done. "What тАУ what happened?" he choked.

Snape merely lifted an eyebrow at him, and Harry's mind rapidly connected the dots. He stared wildly from the cupboard to the footprints and then to the shoe still clutched in his da's hand. "I тАУ you think that I тАУ but, but I didn't!" he nearly wailed.

"Then why is there a trail made by your shoes and leading to your bedroom?"

"I don't know," Harry said miserably. "But I didn't do this!"

"So you are suggesting that someone else entered our warded quarters, destroyed my things, and walked in your shoes to your bedroom, all without either of us noticing?" Snape asked, his voice silky. "That seems a more reasonable explanation to you than the idea that you тАУ feeling petulant over some scolding, perhaps тАУ took advantage of my fetching papers from my office to destroy my supplies, then attempted to establish an alibi for yourself by hurrying to your room, not realizing that you were tracking evidence of your crime behind you?"