Changes and Hopes

Chapter Nine

Changes and Hopes

Snape contemplated the budding relationship between Potter and Tanya. He knew they were becoming closer all the time; he could see it in the way Potter's eyes kept straying to Tanya during class; by the way Tanya seemed happier than he'd seen her all summer. He just hoped Potter never disappointed her. There'd be hell to pay, he silently promised.

He was concerned for this memory she'd relived for Potter today. It obviously took a lot out of her; therefore, she must have told him what she'd hinted at to him a year ago. How her world changed thanks to some obscure tragedy that had wiped out her family and most of the rest of the gypsies that made up the small community. He never could get details from her about that time; he found himself jealously hoping that she didn't tell Potter anything she wouldn't tell him.

He stopped in at the Three Broomsticks for his usual whiskey. He needed it after an entire week of dealing with these wishful thinking adults-to-be he was forced to deal with. He didn't mind the first half of the week, knowing he'd see Tanya. But Thursday and Friday dragged on. He mentally kicked himself for sounding like a jealous boyfriend. But he never fully felt the impact of his lonely lifestyle until Tanya had taught him that simply conversing with someone who shared like interests was a good thing. He missed her laughter at his sarcasm, seeing right through it. He missed the feeling she gave him, with knowing that she could spend her time anywhere, but chose to spend it with him. He never in his life could have believed someone would actually seek out his company, simply for the sake of being together. Until she did.

Now, understandably, she was busy with schoolwork and forging new friendships. Thinking about what he did know of her earlier life, he realized that this could very well be the first time she was learning the joy of companionship as well. He knew, at least on an academic level, that she'd been lonely, never fitting in anywhere after her tragic loss of family. She would surely bloom here at Hogwarts.

And already, the happiness was showing up in her physical appearance. She was eating better, the adolescent body filling out nicely. And yes, just to himself he could admit it; he noticed. Her eyes sparkled when she laughed, her skin was glowing, and her hair was shiny, full and soft enough to tempt any man to want to bury himself in it.

Potter better watch out, he thought ruefully. He's going to have some serious competition once the other boys discover her.

As he sipped his whiskey, he saw Weasley and Granger enter the establishment. They looked around, apparently looking for someone. They stopped at a nearby table and spoke to the students there. "Have Harry and Tanya been in here?" he heard Granger ask.

"No, we haven't seen either of them," came the answer.

So, the group begins to part ways, thought Snape. Our youngsters are growing up and apart. He never thought he'd see the day when he'd see Potter without Weasley close behind, and more often than not, Granger as well. But now things were different. He wondered how the group dynamics would shift, and then laughed at himself for caring, if even idly. He saw Granger's hand on Weasley's shoulder, directing him outside. So that was one pairing, he thought. No real surprise there, although he thought perhaps Granger could do better than Weasley.

With no real place to take his musings, he found himself wondering if today's breed of young adults were prone to pair up long-term, or would it be a different pairing every weekend? And what of Tanya? She seemed mature beyond her years, and he wondered if Potter would be able to keep up with her. He grudgingly admitted to himself that Potter's life experiences would have had some effect as to his maturation as well, so perhaps it wasn't too bad a match at that. She certainly wouldn't settle for anyone not deserving of her attentions. Not her.

He soon grew tired of unwanted, overheard conversations, and he paid his tab and rose to leave. On his way out the door, he was almost knocked over by Hagrid, no surprise there. "Professor Snape," he roared happily, "jus' leavin', are yeh?"

"So it would seem," he conceded sardonically. "Unfortunately, the door seems to be blocked by a rather large obstruction."

Hagrid apologized and moved aside. Snape continued on his way, deciding a return to Hogwarts was the best idea, his need for escape thwarted by the very people from whom he'd been trying to escape.

Things were not destined to improve, he thought cynically, as he entered the castle to find Dumbledore heading for him, moving as though he had a purpose. Stopping when he faced Snape, he watched him quietly for a moment before he said, "Severus, I wonder if I might have a word with you in my office?"

Snape was taken aback by the intensity in Dumbledore's eyes and in his voice. Clearly, this was serious. He nodded briefly, and continued on to his rooms to collect his robes. It had always seemed to Snape that it would be sacrilegious to enter that particular office in civilian clothing.

Approaching the gargoyle that guarded the moving stairs to the headmaster's rooms, Snape struggled to remember the current password. "Lemon drops . . . Fizzing Whizbees . . . Orange Sherbet . . ." Snape fought to hold on to his temper.

"Orange marmalade."

He started to hear Dumbledore's voice right beside him. He stepped aside to allow the headmaster to lead the way up into the office. Upon entering, he was slightly surprised to see that the meeting would be just the two of them. He began to feel the first fluttering of trepidation. Was he to be reproved for something? He squashed down the feeling, hating that even at his age, he could be made to feel like a wayward schoolboy by the venerable old man.

He sat before Dumbledore's desk and waited silently for the old man to begin.

"We have received the results of Miss Relke's examinations. She has achieved O.W.L.s in all subjects, with high scores. So, it seems our confidence in her has been well founded."

Snape wondered if there had been any doubt at all in Dumbledore's head. Surely, her academic prowess had been a given? There had to be more to this meeting than that, he surmised.

"I trust," continued Dumbledore, "that her progress in her studies thus far is satisfactory?"

"More than satisfactory, I'd say," replied Snape. "She shows natural, instinctive ability. I'd even go so far as to say she knows almost as much about Potions as I." He was surprised he'd admit that, even to himself.

"According to her other teachers, it's the same across the board. Any class now, Minerva is certain, Tanya will be able to completely transfigure into her Animagus. Minerva suspects a raven."

"That will come in handy," Snape thought, nervously. "Do you think she really understands the risks?"

"I believe so," Dumbledore replied, after a moment's thought. "I rather think the risks are less for her than for the rest of us, however."

"What makes you think so? Powerful as she is, there are many powerful wizards and witches who have been destroyed, in one way or another, by the Dark Lord."

"Have you ever wondered why there are no gypsies among Voldemort's followers? Powerful magic, yet no representation among his troops?"

"It was my understanding that he hates gypsies, won't have any near him."

"True, but didn't you ever wonder why? He hates many of his followers, doesn't he? Wormtail, for one. Yet he has them at his disposal. What of the gypsies?"

Snape frowned in thought. "Could it be possible that he isn't aware of that particular resource?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "We must assume that he knows at least as much as any of us know. Yet still, he wants no gypsies."

Snape gave up. "You have a theory?"

"I do," Dumbledore answered, gravely. "But, keep in mind, it is only a theory. Only Voldemort himself would know for certain.

"I suspect that there was a time when he may have approached the gypsies, in his own inimitable way, and was rebuffed. Possibly punished for his arrogance and impudence. He must have tasted the awe-inspiring powers of a race he'd only held in contempt previously. Imagine hundreds of Tanyas attacking Riddle, who must have realized when to cut his losses and escape with his life."

"So he fears gypsies, does he?"

"I would think so."

"Do you think he knows about Tanya, then?"

"I don't believe we have any of his spies in a position to report our recent activities. But, alas, there is no real way to be sure. It would be nice to be able to hold this particular ace up our sleeves until such time as might prove necessary to reveal her. I fear the only thing to do now is go about our daily lives, keeping ever alert to any intelligence that comes our way."

"Is there anything new, Headmaster?"

"No. Voldemort still hasn't been sighted, Pettigrew seems to be at loose ends, and Malfoy is still at large. No one seems to have any ideas as to where he'd go."

"Surely, his family must have some contact with him."

"You know Narcissa," Dumbledore said. "She packed up her bags and left the family homestead. Last news was that she established her new home with some old college friends. I fear young Draco will be tossed from relative to relative for a while until such time as more permanent arrangements can be made."

While Snape never particularly liked the Malfoy boy, as a carbon copy of his father, he felt a stab of pity for him. Potter had made possible the arrest and imprisonment of Lucius, and there was a considerably noticeable change in Draco. He was also without his usual cronies, and the Malfoy wealth was no longer a handy tool to buy more friends. This alone, Snape thought, might be enough to alter the future of the world more than anything else. That, and Dumbledore's new "weapon". He wondered if the headmaster ever thought of Tanya as more than that.

Since Snape was not inclined to small talk, the meeting concluded on the agreement that Tanya was continue to be encouraged to pursue her studies on a more independent basis, allowing her to progress according to her skills, as opposed to a scheduled curriculum.

Snape had tried to debate this point, arguing that she was still only fifteen years old. What good would it do for her to enter an adult world while still so young? Would she never be permitted youth? And wouldn't independent study alienate her from the friendships she was now forming?

"I think you'll find that Tanya will live her life as an adult much the same way she's lived it as a child, Severus. Age doesn't seem to mean anything to her. I am simply bowing to the inevitable. I challenge you to even try to slow her down," he added, with a twinkle in his eye.

*********************

That evening, to no one's surprise, Tanya transfigured into a raven. Fully transfigured. She flew a few laps around the grounds of Hogwarts, enjoying her new freedom, before McGonagall could persuade her to return, and allow her coloring and markings to be noted for registration at the Ministry.

Harry grinned as he watched her land on the ground before him. It was apparently easier for her to land as a bird, than from a broomstick. He didn't mind that he was no nearer to transfiguring himself than he was at the start of term. The average wizard or witch took up to three years to become skilled enough to become a true Animagus.

He looked carefully at Tanya. An Animagus typically showed some characteristics common to their human forms, and Tanya's markings were around her neck. Silvery feathers ringing her neck were because of the necklace she habitually wore, with a pendant shaped drop at the base of her throat. Everywhere else she was all sleek, black feathers.

Dean Thomas seemed to be making some progress as well. His Animagus kept trying to make an appearance, but it was Dean himself who slowed the process. He tried to get his shape to resemble a large powerful animal, as he knew his Animagus was to be, but obviously it was the wrong animal. Much as Dean wanted his shape to be a lion or bear, Harry suspected it would be more like an elephant or a hippogriff.

Hermione seemed to be getting nowhere, but after a pep talk from McGonagall, she appeared to be reining in her frustration. That could only help.

Harry didn't get any impressions at all about what his Animagus would be, and he wondered if it were too soon to worry that he'd be able to pull it off at all.

Heading back to the common room after class with the rest, Harry was surprised to see Cho Chang heading his way. He'd almost forgotten she was still here. She was in her final year, and must be keeping busy, but she caught Harry's eye and held it. Obviously, she wasn't ignoring him anymore.

She stopped in front of him, ignoring the others. Dean and Hermione continued on, but Tanya held back. They'd been having a conversation about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend when Cho had spotted him, and she wasn't aware that Harry and Cho had once tried dating.

Cho looked pointedly at Tanya. Harry mumbled introductions and wondered what she wanted with him now. "Oh, yes," Cho said, disdainfully. "The gypsy."

Harry inwardly groaned. Either he was about to witness a catfight, or he was going to have to see the hurt in Tanya's eyes as yet another insult was thrown her way without warning.

He tried to catch Tanya's eye, but she'd already turned away. "I'll see you upstairs, Harry," she said. Harry couldn't tell what she'd thought about Cho's remark.

"So, what's up?" asked Harry, trying for a neutral tone.

"I just wanted to apologize for the dotty way I acted last year," she said, not quite meeting his eyes. "I don't know why I was so upset all the time. You must think I'm a real idiot." She looked up at him for his response.

"No," he said, stalling for time to think. "I don't think you're an idiot. I was the one. I should have realized that you would have needed to talk about Cedric. I was just too stupid to understand."

"You weren't stupid," she said, smiling. "The truth is, I didn't even know Cedric very well. After you two competed in the tournament, you probably knew him better than I did. I think it was just the idea of someone I knew, anyone I knew, was dead. I never went through anything like that before."

"Well, I guess it hits everyone that way. Nothing to feel stupid about."

"So, how are your classes going this year?" Harry was glad that Cho felt it was time to change the subject. He began to relax slightly.

"They're going okay, I guess. I'm still trying to figure out what Animagus I might end up as. Are you one?"

"Heavens, no," she said, laughing. "I did get an O.W.L. in Transfiguration, but I don't think anyone in my year scored high enough to take those classes. Are they really that difficult?"

"I think it depends on what you mean by difficult. I can't do it yet, but it usually takes a few years anyway. There are only four of us in class. That makes it seems like it's not really schoolwork. That right there might make the difference."

"Four? Who are they?"

"Me, Hermione, Dean Thomas, and Tanya."

"Really. And how are they doing?"

"Tanya's accomplished it. She's a raven."

"That seems awfully quick, doesn't it? Did she start these classes at her old school?"

Harry shuffled uncomfortably. He was no good at upholding previously agreed upon prevarications. "No, actually, this is the first she's tried it."

"She seems to be doing exceedingly well in everything, from what I've heard." Cho sounded disapproving.

"Well, yes," Harry stammered. "She's sort of a natural."

"Yes, that would be that gypsy stuff."

"What gypsy stuff?" Harry felt his hackles beginning to rise.

"Oh, you know," she said in exasperation, "gypsy stuff! All she probably has to do is to drink some magic gypsy potion and then do whatever she wants to. That's not real magic."

Harry spoke through his gritted teeth. "What's the difference between real magic and gypsy magic? It's that gypsy magic that's probably going to save all our hides some day."

"Harry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to . . . I've just put my foot in again, didn't I? And you're right, of course. As long as it works, who cares what sort of magic it is, right? I spoke without thinking." She looked anxiously into Harry's eyes, waiting to see what he'd do. Harry wondered why she was apologizing instead of walking off in a huff.

"Look, it makes no difference to me what beliefs you have, Cho. It's just that Tanya is my friend, and, yes, I get uptight when people insult my friends."

"I know, and I'm sorry," she said again. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I really just wanted to ask you if you wanted to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend together."

Did she just ask him for a date? Harry was speechless for what seemed a long time, long enough for Cho to fidget in embarrassment. How was he going to get out of this without insulting her?

"Actually, Cho," he began nervously. "I've been spending my free time with Tanya, mostly."

Sure enough, Cho looked at him, allowing him to see the hurt in her eyes. But Harry wondered if it was just her feminine pride that had been hurt.

"Are you sure that's what you want, Harry?" she asked waspishly. "Or is it what she wants. Maybe she just slipped you a Love Potion or something."

"Why is it so hard to believe I would be attracted to Tanya?" he asked. "She's pretty, she's smart, she's fun to hang around with, she's . . ." Harry forced himself to stop before he revealed more about his relationship with Tanya than he wanted to.

"And we all know how much of a drag I am," Cho spat, stomping away.

Harry continued his bemused way up the stairs to the common room. He noted with relief that it was empty, except for Tanya, who'd begun her homework at the table.

He sat down across from her, still digesting Cho's words. Were there such things as gypsy Love Potions? Had he ever drunk anything Tanya had poured out for him? He shook himself, realizing that he wouldn't really have cared anyway.

"Everything all right, Harry?" Tanya was watching him, looking worried.

"Sure. Why wouldn't it be?"

"You seem . . . I don't know, not quite upset, but something."

"Oh, I always get that way after talking to Cho. She's a confusing person." He smiled, then looked down at the parchment she was writing on. "What's that?"

"The Potions essay."

"Oh, yeah. The Veritaserum Potion."

"I don't understand it, really. It doesn't sound like these ingredients would mix together at all, let alone in just this certain way. Sometimes I wonder if he makes these lessons intentionally complicated."

"I already finished my essay for his class. No doubt it's worthless, but at least I followed his lecture to the letter. If the theory is wrong, he'll only have himself to blame."

"I thought I'd try a different approach. I've already written about my reservations regarding the ingredients he mentioned. Now I have to try to explain what I think will work better."

"He's not going to like it that you try to improve his potions, you know. He's too arrogant for that."

"I know. But if I'm totally wrong about this, better to find out now than wait until I try it for real with disastrous results."

"Well, you're a braver soul than I," said Harry. "Now, to more important things. Weekend after next is Hogsmeade. Shall we spend it together?"

"Aye, I'm surprised you'd even have to ask. I want another tour of the Shrieking Shack."

For a moment, Harry was struck dumb. She may as well have just told him that she wanted him to make wild, passionate love to her. He grinned. This is one of the reasons he'd always felt so comfortable in her presence. He didn't have to worry that he was trying to play a game whose rules he didn't understand.

The following Monday, true to form, Snape tore apart the essay Tanya had handed in at the start of class. Tanya stood her ground, defending the points she had made, but not pushing too hard, either. She seemed to be taking the measure of Snape, Harry thought. That might be bad news for Snape, he was thinking. He'd seen that look before, when she'd met Malfoy. Harry remembered the feeling of dread that came over him then, expecting that soon he'd have reason to pity Malfoy. He felt no different now.

And yet, she didn't seem to be angry, or hurt, or even frustrated at Snape's evaluation of her work. She was simply sizing him up, as if she was considering her next move. Snape was ruthless. Tanya now had a detention that night, and Harry felt for her.

Harry's musings were cut short when Snape tossed down Tanya's parchment to pick up another. Soon, Harry was trying to match the facial expression he'd seen on Tanya's face a moment ago as Snape dissected the essay Harry had turned in. He wondered if he would be joining Tanya for detention, but to Harry's relief, and the good of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he was spared as Snape began verbally tearing apart Ron's essay.

Later, as they were drifting down the path to Hagrid's cabin for their next class, the inevitable albatross-around-the-neck that called itself Malfoy caught up to them to darken their day.

"No one's seen fit to expel you lot yet?" It was almost a friendly comment, considering.

Tanya was staring at Malfoy. When Malfoy noticed, he turned on her. "And what're you looking at, you filthy little gypsy?"

Ron whispered to Tanya, "Don't worry about him. He says the same things to everyone." Tanya gave a little flip of her hand, as if to brush away a pesky mosquito, turning to head to Hagrid's.

Harry darted a quick look behind him, to make sure he knew where Malfoy was. It didn't pay to leave your back exposed to people like him, Harry knew from past experience. Then he did a double take. As he watched, Malfoy's platinum blond hair was shortening. It began to lose its glossy look and become . . . well . . . kind of . . . frizzy. And it was getting bushier. And it was . . . it was beginning to . . . were Harry's eyes deceiving him? Malfoy's hair was looking decidedly pink!

Harry had stopped in his tracks, mouth open, staring at Malfoy. Malfoy was about to send off a nasty remark, when he, too, stopped and lifted his hand to his hair. He must have felt it changing, thought Harry. He looked around at Ron and Tanya, who had just noticed that they'd lost Harry.

Tanya's eyes were unreadable, and Ron dropped his bookbag in surprise. "Malfoy! What happened to your hair?"

Malfoy's hair, meanwhile, had continued its metamorphosis. The fuzzy pink fluff had shortened until it resembled no more than puff balls above his ears. The top of his scalp was bald, the skin there looking even paler than Malfoy's normal complexion. As Malfoy turned around and around, trying to figure out what horror was attacking him, Harry saw that the pink ball of fluff was continuing around the back of his head. Malfoy had clown hair!

He looked quickly at Tanya, remembering her little wave toward Malfoy. He shut his eyes, not willing to submit to the laughter that was trying to force its way up from his stomach to his mouth. Malfoy ridiculed was nothing to toy with, unless he was ready to face the consequences. He really didn't think he could afford suspension, or worse, expulsion, and keeping his eyes away from Tanya at the moment was crucial.

Malfoy turned and snarled at the rest. "Which one of you did this? Which one of you suddenly got tired of living?"

The change was still happening. As Malfoy's face began to fade to pure white, Harry noticed black lines tracing their way horizontally and vertically across his eyelids and down to his cheeks. His nose was turning deep red, and blowing up until it was shaped like a ball. A path of the same shade of red was growing in ever-increasing width around Draco's lips. And then Malfoy yelled, frantically pulling off his shoes. His feet were growing at an alarming rate, the toes beginning to spread out until they resembled duck feet, except much larger and longer.

Malfoy could take no more. He turned and ran, or rather, tried to run. It would take some practice to move around with those feet. The other three wordlessly continued on to Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class, Harry and Ron in shock, Tanya acting as though nothing had happened. Harry chanced a quick look at Ron. His mouth was still hanging open. Tanya evaded his look.

"Yer runnin' late today," said Hagrid. "I was jus' about te send out a search party. And where's young Malfoy?"

"I think he might be headed for the hospital wing," Ron offered. "I think someone's hexed him."

Thankfully, whatever creatures were in the crate Hagrid was holding began demanding attention, and Hagrid's mind was diverted. Harry looked at Tanya, feeling it was now safe to make eye contact, but she just looked away. That seemed to confirm it, and he wondered how long before Madam Pomfrey would be able to fix things. He rather hoped more of the school would be able to witness this humiliation of Draco's. It might make him more keen to keep away from the rest for a while.

In the back of his mind was the idea that maybe he'd better be careful not to upset Tanya.

*******************

By evening, Snape had worn a path in the carpet in his private sitting room, wondering why in heaven's name he'd assigned Tanya to a detention? Her essay was good; he knew it, and worse, he knew that she knew he knew it.

She hadn't called him on it. Obviously, she wanted to speak to him without the other students around. So, she didn't object to this unfair detention.

But what was he going to say to her when she arrived in his classroom? He knew why he didn't want the other students to know how good her essay was. It would raise too many questions, for one thing. How could this girl know how to create a complicated potion with substitute materials, a girl who had only learned of the world of wizards a year earlier? How much more difficult would it be for her to blend in with other students if this sixth year student showed that she was better off being his research assistant, rather than his student. How much longer before Voldemort would get word of this prodigy in their midst?

He left his rooms to enter the Potions classroom. She wasn't there yet; it was only ten minutes before seven. He busied himself at his desk, marking papers from his first-year students.

He knew the moment that she entered, although she hadn't made a sound. He stole a few more moments to organize his thoughts, pretending to be immersed in the essay before him.

"Professor?" How odd to hear her call him that. He had become used to the sound of his name on her lips.

"Yes, Miss Relke?" Perhaps it was better to keep this off a personal level. Maybe he could be more objective.

"It's 7:00. I have a detention to serve." He looked up at her, looking for the amusement that would surely show up in her expressive eyes. There was none. She was merely waiting for him to show his hand first.

He tossed aside his quill and motioned her to sit. She sat on the desk in front of his, swinging her legs, patiently waiting for him to speak. He cleared his throat. He didn't know how to begin. He hoped Dumbledore hadn't been guessing; he could never tell when Dumbledore was tossing out ideas or if they were all well planned in advance. And how much of Tanya's welfare was the headmaster considering, in any event?

"I'm sure you know full well that your essay was exemplary. You also know that you didn't deserve a detention." He paused, watching her reaction. No change. She was way ahead of him.

"Your suggestions for an impromptu Veritaserum Potion needs checking out. If it actually can be brewed, it must be tested. You understand?"

"Aye. Are you suggesting a field test?"

"It would appear so. According to your paper, this potion can be brewed anywhere there is moving water and vegetation. Is that right?"

"Aye. I have no doubt it can be brewed. But how does one test a new potion? An unsuspecting bystander?"

"That's only one of the things we need to discuss." Snape decided to jump right in. For all he knew, it would work out better this way than allow her to continue this facade of normalcy.

"What else?" Tanya's legs had stopped moving, and Snape knew that up until now, she had expected every word he'd said.

"Dumbledore has suggested that there isn't all that much left to teach you. He recommends independent study. You'll be able to sit for your NEWTs whenever you're ready, as opposed to waiting until the end of next year.

"This will enable you more free time to pursue independent research. You'll be able to apprentice with Hagrid now, instead of waiting until you graduate. You'll be able to choose which research projects interest you, and in some cases, go out into the field to test your theories."

He looked at her, letting her know that the next move would be hers. She looked up at him, shrugging.

"I don't know what all the fuss is about, really. Of course I'd like the opportunity to actually apply what you've all taught me. It will be very exciting to be an active part of new development. Is this all to start right away?"

Snape had not expected this answer. He really thought she'd be reluctant to change her daily life yet again, now that she had adjusted to life as the average Hogwarts student knew it.

"Do you understand what it will be like?" he asked. She had to understand while there was still time to back out. "You won't be a sixth year student anymore. You won't have the same schedule your friends have. You'll be busier than usual. Just as if you'd already graduated, had already taken a position with an employer. Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Severus," she said, smiling. "I don't know how much longer I could have taken the rigid schedule that had been set for me. I'm looking forward to this."

"You probably won't be able to find as much time to spend with your friends, what with your new duties."

"I can always find time for important things," she replied, giving Snape no clue as to what she considered important.

"Field testing alone can be dangerous. We don't know what Voldemort's doing, and we don't know how much he knows about what we're doing."

"I'm not worried about Voldemort."

"If I thought for a moment that you're underestimating him, I'd pack you off to St. Mungo's fourth floor before you can say 'Napoleon'".

She laughed, clearly understanding the Muggle reference. He knew she would. "It's not that I underestimate him," she qualified. "It's just that we all choose our fights. I have different priorities, that's all."

"I think Professor Dumbledore is hoping that your priorities are the same as those of the Order."

"I won't forget my loyalties to him or to the Order," she said seriously. "But I know Voldemort's not the threat you all think he is. At least, not anymore."

Snape looked sharply at her. "What do you know that the rest of us don't?"

"He's no more powerful than any of you. He must have lost something upon recreating himself. The answer lies with the ritual and potion he used that night in the graveyard. Also, it has something to do with the bone and the blood."

"How do you know this?"

"Empathy."

"You're an empath?" he repeated, incredulously. "How is it that this amazing fact escaped notice of any of us?"

"It requires physical contact," she said. "I don't go around touching people all that often. I danced with Pettigrew last summer at the pub." She shivered in disgust at the memory. He suppressed a grin. She continued, "And it doesn't always happen anyway. It takes conscious effort."

"There was some physical contact between us," Snape said quietly. "What have you learned about me?" He was afraid she would answer. He was afraid to know what she knew about him.

"Well, I have to tell you first," she began, "that I don't enjoy invading people's privacy in such a way. Thoughts, memories, feelings . . . those things are the most intimate part of people. I don't enjoy the 'voyeur' feeling that I can sometimes get using this particular skill.

"I do have some control over it, you know," she said almost defensively. "When I first met you, I read you only enough to know that you wouldn't do me any harm. That you weren't using some sort of trick to trap me somehow, and truly did need my help. After that, I just didn't try it." She looked into his eyes, showing him that she was serious. "I knew you'd not like my prying into your life."

"I appreciate it," he said dryly, hoping he could believe her.

"Of course," she continued, impishly, "now you've piqued my curiosity and I'll be peppering you with all kinds of personal questions."

He decided a change of subject was in order. "Would you be willing to perform the research on this new Veritaserum Potion yourself?"

"Aye. Do I have a choice in where I go?"

"Well, we should leave that to the headmaster. He may already have a place in mind, but in any event, if you were to choose your own location, it may invalidate your arguments about anyone else being able to do this. The whole miracle of being able to reproduce potions with more convenient ingredients and a shorter preparation time is important to wartime situations. It would be a great help to everyone if we could brew Potions as they're needed, in any environment.

"Now the times being what they are, you will not go unescorted. I plan to petition the headmaster to delay this study until the holidays, when I would be free to go with you. Would you have any objection to this?" He held his breath, wondering at his sudden reluctance to let her go.

"That would be great," she said happily. He let out his breath. "Then I think our next meeting will be with Professor Dumbledore," he said, "when he has made a decision, one way or another."

"I won't see you before then?" she asked. "Am I to stop attending the classes I'm now scheduled for?"

"I would advise you to continue as before, until we hear differently from the headmaster," he said. "We must always continue to behave as if the wrong eyes are watching us. I think anything too far out of the ordinary will alert our enemies that something is afoot.

"By the way," he continued, "I know you'll want to let your closer friends know of these changes. Please be circumspect. You know whom you can trust."

It was patently a dismissal. Anyone else would have gone scrambling for the door by now. But this was Tanya, not someone else. She sat grinning, swinging her legs once again.

"It's been good seeing you again, too, Severus." He couldn't help but return her smile as he watched her hop off the desk and stroll from his sight.