Chapter 11:

Professor Severus Snape stood in the shadows of Kings Cross Station, observing platform nine and platform ten. Nothing official had been said, but Snape had not watched Slytherins for the past ten years, after having been a Slytherin himself for seven, without having learnt the signs of a Slytherin involved in a deep plot. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini had both displayed classic symptoms of plotting. All of the first years, bar Potter, Crabbe and Goyle, had displayed the symptoms of aiding in a deep plot. Potter had been the only genuine innocent, for Crabbe and Goyle were simply too dangerous to be true. Snape's suspicions had an easy target, for it was Christmas and Dumbledore had insisted that Potter leave the castle...ostensibly so he might escape the charged atmosphere and enjoy his own family.

"Spying, Severus?" The soft voice of Lucius Malfoy amost caused Snape to startle and jump. "How unlike you, my slippery friend."

"A Malfoy in Muggle London?" Snape half turned his head to glance at the discreetly glamoured wizard. "Now, I know my suspicions were accurate."

"Suspicions?" Malfoy lifted a carefully cultivated eyebrow. "How very low."

"I heard you flooed a very nasty present to the Minister."

"It was hardly my fault that the Minister flooed me such a disgusting speciman without even the decency of cleaning it first." Malfoy sniffed and then sneered. "I had assumed that if Black came from the Ministry that he would be cleaned and treated."

"I see." Snape's expression of understanding and respect was almost perfect. Malfoy settled for a brief sneer before he swept on to Platform 9 3/4 to meet the Hogwarts Express. Snape's eyes narrowed as he considered the situation. It is difficult to decide the objective of others when you are unclear in your own objective. It was rather abruptly that Snape decided he would require plausible deniability, he found a shadow and apparated directly to Gringotts. Many people might lie, but never a Goblin. If Gringotts said you'd been there at a certain time, then you had been there at the certain time. Later Snape was going to be very grateful for his abrupt decision.

XXXXXX

Minerva McGonagal had been thinking of her office when she'd heard the crash from Poppy's office. Crashes were very unusual noises to hear from the hospital wing, it was only judicius to check that all was well with the medi-witch. Minerva had many possible explanations for the crash as she poked her head around Poppy's office door, but the sight of Poppy Pomphrey, a bitterly sobbing lump of boneless humanity in the middle of her office floor was not in any of them.

"Poppy?" Minerva was across the room in seconds to hug the mediwitch and commence comforting the distraught woman, she was giving Moaning Myrtle a run for her money in shattering sobs.

"M-min-ner-v-va." Poppy sobbed again.

"It's alright Poppy." Minerva was at a loss, for Poppy hadn't been this distraught ever, even when her brother had been killed fifteen years ago.

"T-they've re-reprimanded me." Poppy dissolved into tears again.

"Sshhh." Minerva gently stroked the smooth hair on top of Poppy's head. "Why?"

"The Zabini boy's leg." Poppy sniffed, finally starting to gain some control of herself. "It was fine when he came in...nasty bruise, but no fractures. I treated him for the bruising and thought nothing more of it beyond reprimanding Potter for such thoughtless magic on a housemate. Then Severus came in and raised a stink about microfractures...and there weren't any there before. I thought Severus might have done it himself initially...but even with Skelegro those horrible fractures just grew. I did everything I could, Minerva, but I never saw anything like it and now they're saying that I was lax in my initial scanning."

"The fractures grew after skelegro was applied?" Minerva was staggered.

"I know. Even the board can't explain why the fractures grew...though they were idiots enough to criticise Severus' potion making skills to his face." The noise was a definite laugh, though very damp sounding. "I-I don't think they'll do that again."

"I'm surprised to hear they're alive to consider doing such a foolish thing again." Minerva did not envy the board member who'd accused Snape, the man was probably in need of a mind healer now.
"So am I." Poppy sniffed. "Then they went through all the files and..." Poppy sniffed convulsively, obviously battling ferociously to retain her current control. "Why did we do it Minerva? He's only eleven and didn't even know about magic before he arrived."

"Your point?" Minerva's mouth had thinned.

"I...we haven't been very fair to him."

"He's been charming every Gryffindor blue for weeks!"

"The Ravenclaws are turned pink and even a couple of Hufflepuffs came in with some weird pinky-green colour. Severus said that the only students charmed are the ones who attempt to hex or curse either Mr Potter or his friends."

"Poppy, I seriously doubt that all of Gryffindor have attempted to hex Mr Potter at one time or another...and he is the son of James Potter."

"I have to retake my oaths and will be under review every month for the next year...then if I've been good it will stretch to three months, then six months and then once a year." Poppy had changed her mind about young Mr Potter, but it was clear that Minerva had yet to forgive the young man for being sorted into Slytherin and obviously fitting in successfully. Peace was far more likely if the topic was changed.

"How long until you're off review?"

"Probably never...but at least I'm still registered." Poppy gave another convulsive sniff before stumbling to her feet and making a pot of tea. Never again would she allow anything interfer with her vows. The Oaths of the Healers were sacred and Poppy would not endanger her position as a Mediwitch again, even if it meant estrangement from the rest of the staff...she rather doubted that either Severus or any other Slytherin would trust her reformation. It was a sad thought, but she would stand by her decision.

XXXXXX

Albus Dumbledore had a headache. His usual remedies were not helping at all, and worst of all no muting charm seemed to work on the source of his headache. The silver gizmo was rather attractive if you looked at it from the right angle. Dumbledore had actually gone to considerable lengths positioning it so that his applied twinkles were reasonably possible...though Minerva had been known to sniff and express a level of disapproval that he'd actually spent the time to get the constellation of Orion to glitter off the odd little gizmo. The gizmo was whistling, and had been for the past two hours. The gizmo's whistle was specifically pitched to not be ignored or slept through. At present the gizmo's whistle was playing merry hell with the headache which had been carefully cultivating itself for days now. Dumbledore could almost visualise the black little headache shuffling around in his head, tilling the grey matter of his mind and watering in preparation of settling down for a good growing season and a ripe harvest. It obviously approved of the music entertainment currectly available for it was undoubtedly growing in leaps and bounds.

"Albus." It was a flat word and what it introduced was significantly more depressing than anything else he could have imagined. Half the staff of Hogwarts had somehow shoved their way into his office, and all of them had a varying array of disapproving expressions. Usually Snape was around at these things, using his tongue with vicious effectiveness, and giving Dumbledore significant patches of respite when the staff forgot about him while defending themselves against Severus' vicious barbs, which were usually uncomfortably accurate for all the man's complete lack of social skills.

"Yes?"

"Is it true that Lucius Malfoy got Black out of Azkaban a week ago?" Minerva McGonagal seemed to be keeping her temper with a great deal of difficulty.

"Yes." Dumbledore

"Why?"

"Black is the Head of the Black Family and his presence was required for some private business tied to the heirs."

"Heirs? There are Black Heirs?"

"Yes." Dumbledore rubbed his forehead again before he pinched the bridge of his nose hard, he had not been happy when he'd realised that Black had managed to successfully legitimate those two insane menaces. Pureblood blood rights had a lot to answer for since there was no way for him to block the two boys from attending Hogwarts next year, even if they were still addicted to their muggle drugs and completely insane. If there was any good thought it was that Slytherin was undoubtedly going to be turned on its head by those two menaces.

"Who are they?"

"I have no real idea." Dumbledore rose abruptly and studied the gizmoes on the shelf by the window, Harry Potter had yet to reach Privet Drive. "Lord Malfoy said they were bastard born and blood rights were required to legitmate the two boys so I assume that they're sons of Regulus, but equally they may be the result of the previous Lord Black."

"Regulus died at seventeen, Headmaster!" McGonagal was truly horrified.

"By which time he'd spent almost an entire year as a marked Death-Eater." Dumbledore moved back to his seat, a sensation of unease beginning to prickle the back of his neck. Harry Potter was taking far too long getting home...particularly since all his relatives were still registering as present at Privet Drive. "I'm only surprised the mothers lasted at all."

"Mothers? Albus, you referred to them as twins."

"Mary Weston bore Hayden Black, born March 17th 1980, the first collective soul in two hundred years. Amanda Ellis bore Paul Black, born December 10th 1980...who shares his older brother's collective soul. This is the only time this kind of event is recorded in the entire known history of the Wizarding World. It seems pointless not to consider them twins since they share a soul."

"Albus..." McGonagall fell silent and looked more than slightly sick. "Two muggles survived a revel?"

"Survived revels that were nine months apart. Miss Amanda Ellis survived the last revel that Regulus Black attended. I am guessing that significantly more women than just these two survived courtesy of Mr Black, these two are recorded because of the twins. Both women were obliviated, we assume, for they both were hospitalised nine months before their existances became recorded in the Wizarding World apparently suffering from extensive physical trauma and amnesia. Amanda Ellis died some six years ago, the authorities handed Paul over to Mary Weston after Paul identified her as his unofficial godmother and it was proven that Hayden was his blood kin." Albus Dumbledore's frown darkened significantly. Harry Potter should have reached home by now and that should have terminated that infuriating whistle.

"Headmaster!" The head in the fire was that of Alastor Moody, who'd been watching Kings Cross as a favour to Dumbledore. "I think you've got a bit of a problem."

"Oh?" Albus thought he had significantly more than a bit of a problem.

"Malfoy just hi-jacked the Potter brat."

"Lucius Malfoy kidnapped Harry Potter?"

"He had a little help from a glamoured Black...a very little help." Moody scowled momentarily before refocussing on Dumbledore. "Kidnapping implies unwillingness on the part of the second party, Potter was clearly surprised, but more than happy to go."

"Fine." Dumbledore waved the man off in annoyance before grabbing the gizmo and stuffing it into a small, warded box. That gizmo was going to make a racket until Potter either arrived at his relatives house, or returned to Hogwarts...and Dumbledore had no intention of suffering it for that duration of time.

"Why didn't Alastor stop the abduction?" McGonagal's expression was disapproving.

"No idea." Dumbledore settled back in his seat. "It wouldn't surprise me to hear that his inability to interfer had something to do with the little bit of help Malfoy got from Black...and we all know what Black can do."

"Yes." McGonagal looked slightly ill. Black ranged from mass murder to innumerable minor pranks of the more infuriating, and/or embarrssing nature. The truth of the matter was that if Black wanted a distraction, he got it, and there was nothing that anyone could do about it.

"Let Severus know, when you next see him, that I wish to speak to him." Dumbledore started shuffling papers on his desk. It was a clear sign of dismissal and Minerva found that for once it really, really irked her.

XXXXXX

Spike Black stood next to his twin and shuffled a counterpoint as they waited in the receiving room. Sirius Black stood fairly closely behind the two boys and kept a very close eye on them. The Blood Inheritance Rights had done much for both boys, a lot more than had been admitted to the healers so far and Sirius Black suspected that possibly even more than he was aware of. The real test, however, was going to be the arrival of Harry Potter. The fact that Harry of all people had given those two boys their first taste of sanity...or at least their first taste of clear thought, was unbelieveable almost. Sirius Black was very curious about his godson indeed, for he'd heard a lot between Spike, Lucius Malfoy and the letters sent by Draco. Sirius had asked only once why Harry never wrote, and the explanation was one he didn't care to remember. What would happen when Harry met Spike this time?

Draco was the first to step out of the fireplace, his entry a dream of grace and dignity. Harry erupted next from the floo, his arrival a convoluted tangle of legs and arms which somehow ended up in a seemingly endless knot on the hearth. Lucius Malfoy followed last of all, his arrival as perfect as his son's, though his composure survived the sight of Harry on the rug, which was more than anyone else managed.

"Details!" One of the two Spike's was the first to recover his calm and he pounced on Draco, whom he quickly shook into a calm condition...if perhaps slightly irate. "Daiyati refuses to tell us anything."

"I'm not surprised." Draco subsided back into snickers and even Lucius Malfoy's composure cracked slightly at the memory. Harry untangled himself, but remained on the rug as he joined in the laughter though he hid it very well behind his hand.

"Details!" The other Spike joined in the fray with a slight jump and the result was a tangle on the rug of all four boys. Lucius Malfoy stepped swiftly backwards to avoid a flailing member before casting a look at Black and swirling out of the room. Sirius Black eyed the roiling mass of boys before deciding it would be in his best interests not to join in...tempting though it was. Black's departure was abrupt and the roiling mass on the rug soon sorted itself into four boys with the right number of arms and legs and only a couple of extra brauises.

"So." Harry sniffed as he looked between the two Spike Blacks and then scowled. "You're still muddled up."

"Not as bad as we were." Spike grinned suddenly as he settled with crossed legs. "We can still exchange our words and stuff, but it's optional. Occasionally the wrong one will answer a question...but Mr Malfoy seems to find it fairly irrelevent and actually says that it will probably become less."

"D-E-T-A-I-L-S!" The other Spike planted his elbows on his knees and stared pointedly at Draco, leaving it up to the other to stare at Harry.

"Fine." Draco snickered for a moment and then coughed. "Umm, it was Black."

"We know that." Spike rolled his eyes.

"Take a Black, add a request for a distraction and the result will be little short of chaos." Draco gave a small shrug.

"That's it!" Spike snapped harshly, but Draco was caught off-guard for it was the Spike who hadn't spoken who tackled him to the floor from the left.

XXXXXX

"Do explain." Lucius was studying the late edition of the newspaper which lay on his formidable desk before glancing up at Black. Snape had brought the newspaper with him when he'd arrived a mere five minutes previously, and it wasn't half apparent that Lucius had been hard-pressed not to express himself sooner. The front page, which they'd yet to move past, was occupied almost completely by a photograph of Platform Nine and Three Quarters and the mysterious disaster which had struck that afternoon. "Why a Grand Piano, Black?"

"It worked didn't it?" Sirius had been admiring the image of a scarlet featured Moody struggling to get a hand out from under the piano which pinned him to the concrete of Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The picture only struggled for a few seconds before the explosion blew the Steinway out of existance and a clearly irate Moody sprang to his feet. "I considered a Baby Grand for a bit but decided it was too great a risk that not all members would be appropriately pinned." The watchful Moody was flattened as another Steinway fell from thin air immediately over his head.

"Severus, can you enlighten this poor, dim pureblood exactly what the significance of the Grand Piano is?"

"Muggle entertainment gag." Snape's expression was incredibly sour. "No idea why...and even less idea of why the gag has meaning for Moody."

"Spoilsport." Black sniffed and then sighed. "Auror Training, Muggle Orientation...we ended up in a movie theatre with some movie that ended up with the villain squashed by a falling piano." Black scratched his head for a moment. "Moody was in charge of us at the time and for the rest of training when he shouted Constant Vigilence, we'd ask him where the piano was." Black indicated the irate Moody. "The old #$% sure remembers it even if he won't admit it."

"So that's why the text floating above his irate read reads..." Lucius squinted at the page. "Constant Vigilence, you never know when the Piano may fall."

"I thought it an adequate distraction." Black elevated his nose and then sniffed before waltzing out of the room to join the boys in whatever mayhem they were currently engaged.

"He seems awfully undisturbed for a man who will be back in Azkaban in a weeks time." Snape was struggling to suppress his sneer.

"Such is the mind of a Gryffindor Black." Lucius gave a very faint smile. "Such is also the reason for his on going sanity, for he takes the world as it comes, deals with it and trusts in his ability to cope with whatever the future throws his way." Lucius leant backwards in his chair. "I have given him the same information as I gave you, and for Harry's sake he has sworn the same oaths...if he does refer to the past, you will only feature as his mother's friend and lab partner for many years...he has also confessed to having no idea why they behaved as they did, he tenders no appologies for he recognises that the crime is unforgiveable. He simply offers to either ignore the past, or to avoid you...but in all honesty, Severus, I suggest you choose to ignore the past...Black has no discipline and even less ambition, but he has a raw talent that will be of unquestionable use to you if you choose to access it. I suspect that if you pick his brains in the right manner he can provide some possible directions of research for your insolubles."

"For now I shall suspend my decision." Snape formed the words with difficulty.

"I'm bringing up the exploding cauldron and the inert goop at dinner tonight. I trust, them being a topic we can all speak on, that you will not do your usual 'silent and scowling' act?"

"If Black has any suggestions about that inert goop I will forgive even that bloody Were-Wolf incident!" Snape scowled fiercely as his mind drifted back to the months old irritation. The 'inert goop' was still resistant to any, and every, effort to determine its make-up. What Potter remembered produced the 'inert goop' time after time, but the analytical details were impossible and much seemed to be dependent on something that only Potter could sense when constructing 'inert goop'. Unfortunately Potter wasn't aware of whatever it was which effected the production of 'inert goop', and until successfully analysed and processed as a reproduceable potion by all, 'inert goop' remained a secret ingredient in the private labs of Severus Snape...though it occasionally made a short showing in the cauldron of one Neville Longbottom.

Lucius Malfoy rose to his feet when the dinner bell sounded and lead the way into the dining room. Snape drifted somewhat distractedly after him, his thoughts still preoccupied with the 'inert goop'. Conversation began and flourished easily between the boys, Black and Snape with only the occasional helping hand from Lucius to keep it moving and on relevent tracks. The meal ended and the entire party, minus Narcissa, migrated easily into the Potions Laboratory where it remained until the House Elf came in to remind Lucius that the Little Masters required sleep even if they weren't at school. The boys were packed off to bed and the conversation wavered unsteadily for a couple of minutes before Lucius skillfully returned it to the realms of Potions and he watched with a quiet smirk as two men, who considered each other to be arch-enemies, remained bent over a single cauldron and the related problem until three o'clock in the morning...and they only stopped then because Lucius decided that even in the name of civil peace he could not let things continue. This Christmas held promise of being deeply interesting and it was with a quiet smile that Lucius Malfoy made his way to bed, thanking the day that Harry Potter had become a Slytherin.