**Hello. I know, I know… I was ages. Blame it on my French teacher. Actually no, blame it on people who don't know the meaning of duty. No, blame it on the people who insist on updating regularly and keep me reading the whole time instead of writing. Or you could just blame it on me and leave it at that.

Thank you everyone for your support! You're all great! **

Slowly, the hallways cleared, everyone who passed glancing nervously at Harry, who smiled back at them. But all too quickly, the sound of footsteps was heard.

Here goes nothing.

"Good morning class, welcome to your first Transfiguration class of the year."

Several people groaned jokingly.

"I heard that," said Professor McGonagall with a rare smile. Harry hoped her good mood stuck. 

She opened the door. "Oh my goodness!"

The place was a menagerie. Not quite literally, but…

The great doglegged (AN: can you believe that's actually a word?) desk stood on the raised teacher's platform amid a glory of animal related furniture.

The chairs were all insigned by a cat's head carved into the back.

The window frame was now delicately decorated with wings, and the curtains sported a pattern of lions, badgers, eagles and snakes.

The walls, that before had been stone grey, were a dark blue that did not overpower everything else, and occasionally a bird would fly across them.

Professor McGonagall surveyed it all with a glance, though she looked longer at the desk than everything else, then looked straight at the Gryffindors.

Then she looked right at Harry.

"Er… it was an accident?"

"Potter…" she seemed lost for words.

"It's all the original furniture," he assured her. "So you can change it all back, easy."

Professor McGonagall managed to croak, "Intermediate stages?"

"Er… one," said Harry, realising in the nick of time what she meant. "The desk used to be an Alsatian."

The Transfiguration teacher wandered over to the desk and ran a hand over it. A blank look came over her eyes as if deep in thought. Then she turned to her students. "Well, what are you waiting for? Sit down."

They did, in a flurry of bags and cloaks as Ron and Hermione dragged the stunned Harry to the back of the classroom as usual.

"Harry," said Hermione. "What did you do? You can't have done this, you just don't know enough…"

That's what you think.

"It wasn't all me," Harry lied. "Wendy – Professor Little – did most of it."

"She has weird taste," said Ron, looking around and watching as a bluebird flew across the room on the wall.

"So you don't like her," said Hermione triumphantly.

"I never said that," said Ron, affronted.

Hermione sighed as she unpacked her books.

Harry was too stunned at the fact that Professor McGonagall hadn't told him off that he simply upended his bag on the desk and started putting back the ones he wouldn't need.

The lady herself was examining the desk inch by inch, occasionally throwing a withering glance at a bluebird fluttering across the far wall. Harry had a feeling that that particular aspect of the room would not be staying long. The parrots were rather good though, if he thought so himself.

"Today," said Professor McGonagall, "is a review session. "I will be handing out the guinea pigs from last year, and you will all transfigure them back into guinea fowls before the end of class."

"Where does she keep those?" whispered Hermione, trying to find her notes on cross species switches.

"Who feeds them?" agreed Harry.

"How do they keep Neville's from trying to fly?" said Ron.

"You can talk," said Hermione. "Yours still had a beak."

"Yeah, but it doesn't any more," said Ron with a grin at Harry.

"You know perfectly well that's because you threatened me to…" Hermione smiled her thanks at Professor McGonagall as she received her guinea pig.

Harry looked at his. It looked all right for the moment. He made pretence of looking through the textbook. If he were to transfigure it now he'd cause a stir.

Again.

Ten minutes before the end of class, no one had managed to transfigure their guinea pig, even Hermione.

This was saying something, because due to the change in their timetable, their class that morning was the equivalent to three lessons.

Several people had changed their animal into a guinea fowl, but Professor McGonagall gave it changed it back after telling them that it wasn't the guinea fowl.

Harry knew why that was, but he wasn't going to make another big scene today, thank you very much.

"I don't understand it," said Hermione for the hundredth time. "I've changed it five times already, and every time she told me that it wasn't right. It's not fair."

"Maybe it's a trick question," said Harry, doing his best to give her a hint without letting on that he knew the answer.

It's so obvious! Please someone figure it out so we can go…

"Mr. Potter?"

"Er… yes?"

"I think I am right in guessing that you are stalling, Mr. Potter."

"Stalling?"

"Yes, stalling," said Professor McGonagall, giving Harry one of her sternest looks. "Perform the spell, now. Pay attention, everyone."

Harry sighed, resigned to his fate. He placed one finger on his guinea pig and said clearly, "Priori incantatem."

The guinea pig looked surprised for a minute, and then reverted to its original state with a 'pop'.

Everyone was staring. Harry suddenly had a severe urge to disappear.

"Very good, Mr. Potter. Fifteen points to Gryffindor for spotting the trick, five points from Gryffindor for waiting until Miss Granger did it for you. Break time, everyone."

She leant down to whisper in Harry's ear, "But I'd use your wand next time, if I were you."

Harry swallowed. So much for being inconspicuous.

Fortunately, no one else had noticed. No one within a two foot radius, anyway.

"Harry!" Hermione choked. "What did you do?"

Harry shrugged. "Priori incantatem."

"We know that, you prat," said Ron, exasperatedly. "How did you do it without your wand?"

"Shut up," Harry hissed, because Neville had stopped to pick up feathers and was looking at them strangely.

"I'll tell you later." He ducked out of the classroom, but Ron and Hermione caught him before he'd gone five steps. They pulled him into a dark, abandoned corridor.

"Later isn't good enough," Hermione stated firmly. "That's all we've got from you since we arrived. We're your friends, and we deserve to know."

Harry sighed. "Fine," he said. "Voldemort can do wandless spells."

"So?" said Ron, forgetting in his eagerness to flinch at the sound of the name.

"Well, you know I told you how I can speak Parseltongue because Voldemort gave it to me that night…"

"Ok," said Hermione, working it out.

"I inherited this too," Harry said bitterly.

"But… but…"

"Isn't that awfully rare?"

"Voldemort's a rare guy. My dad could do some too, so I got it twice."

There was a pause, the silence broken only by the distant sound of excited chatter. Then…

"How do you know that's how you can do it? Did Professor Little tell you?"

"She doesn't know. I worked it out for myself."

"But didn't she teach you how to use it?"

"Oh, yeah. She knows I can do it. She just doesn't know exactly why."

"How much can you do?" asked Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "Who knows? No one ever tells me anything."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"There are certain things you don't want too many people to know, Ron," Hermione snapped.

"But…"

"Are you done asking questions?" said Harry. "Or are we going to go into a whole debate?"

Hermione sighed and moved back into the main hallway. 

Ron looked up at his friend. There was something else. He knew there was. Something Harry wasn't going to tell them in a hurry.

But if his plan worked, then he'd find out soon enough. But his plan was so complex, so dangerous…

"Coming?" said Harry. Ron shook his head and ran to catch up.

By the time they'd sprinted round the corner to the History of Magic classroom, it had started to rain.

"Charming," said Ron, looking out of the window as they sat down and pulling out his books.

"Were we expecting something else?" asked Harry mildly. He tugged at the fastenings on his bag and one broke. All his books toppled out onto the floor, and he swore quietly.

Ron helped him with his books. Harry froze as he picked up,

'Animal Anatomy and Behaviour, A Study' by Veronica Whimsy,

But he only glanced at the title and shoved it back in Harry's bag.

Professor Binns entered the room through the blackboard and looked down at his lesson plan without even acknowledging them.

"Please open your books," he said when they were all settled.

The lesson dragged on.

Although the book was different, the one Harry had looked at before, about famous witches and wizards over the last century, Professor Binns had managed to pick the most boring wiard in the whole volume for them to study.

Harry had just about enough time to hear the birthplace of Mr. Gregory Amsted, (1902) before he lapsed into a daydream.

Snape. Where was he? There was a chance he could be hurt – why wasn't Dumbledore doing anything?

All right, thought Harry. I hate Snape. But Sirius is right; he's needful to our cause. Damn, what I something's happened? Sleeve would know. But Sleeve…

As though in answer to his thoughts, Harry felt a rasping touch against his leg and he froze. But it was only the edge of his robes.

He relaxed and tried to read the page along with his ghost teacher, but it was impossible.

The rain beating on the window drove through his concentration like a knife.

By the end of the lesson he was cross and irritable, and defiantly ready for lunch.

"You're hungry," Ron observed as Harry tucked into his food with more gusto than he had for days.

"I'll never survive another lesson like that," Harry complained. "When do we have him again?"

"Good question. Halfway through Wednesday."

Harry growled and speared a roast potato with unnatural force.

"Don't worry," said Hermione with an evil grin quite reminiscent of Wendy's. "Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"What's so bad about that?" Ron demanded indignantly.

"We'll have to hold him down in his seat," Hermione said casually to Harry. "We wouldn't want to scare the poor woman, now would we?"

Ron went red to the tips of his ears and spooned soup into a bowl to hide his embarrassment.

Harry thought there was something wrong about that. Normally he would have argued Hermione to the death if she'd suggested something like that.

Maybe Ron really did have a crush on Wendy.

Harry was certainly not feeling too well disposed towards his teacher. She had that glint in her eye every time he looked up at her that meant she had something up her sleeve, and it wasn't a small black snake.

He could also bet pretty much anything that her little joke would be directed at him.

He caught his arch rival glancing at him occasionally. There didn't seem to be any particular malice in his gaze, but one never knew.

"What happened with Malfoy on the train?" Harry asked Ron.

"Oh, that," Ron said, taking a huge bite out of a slice of bread and talking with his mouth full. "It was weird."

"Usually he insults us before he starts physically threatening," remarked Hermione, slicing her turkey delicately with disapproving looks at Ron. "But he just came in with Crabbe and Goyle and raised his wand. Just like that."

"Of course, Hermione doesn't like it when people have such bad manners," continued Ron, so she stunned the three of them in succession and kicked them into the next compartment for someone to find. Let's hope Malfoy's dad's not got too many hopes of him being a duelling master. He's really very bad at it."

Harry laughed, but his heart wasn't in it. It seemed that Malfoy really had received orders from his father – to exterminate with all caution.

It also looked like he'd been warned not to pick fights with them, but to get on with it without the usual rude banter.

"He hesitated," Hermione said modestly. "I don't know why. But I ought to have reported him – you don't just attack someone for no reason – but I had a feeling they probably wouldn't believe me."

"I have a feeling you were probably right," said Harry with a frown.

"Did you see that article in the paper the other day?" said Ron. "Fudge is getting worried, he can't just keep passing these attacks off as gas explosions and stuff. Heck, half the houses that were attacked don't even have gas."

"He had hard trouble explaining the Darling case," said interrupted Fred from just up the table.

Harry's throat constricted.

"You all right, Harry?" asked Ron. "You've gone pale."

"Yeah, fine," said Harry.

"You really ought to eat more, you know," said Hermione critically. "I saw those pictures."

Harry winced.

Dean, from the other side of the table looked up sharply and began listening intently.

"I hope you burned them," said Harry.

"I wanted to," joked Hermione. "But my parents wouldn't let me have a fire. So I had to settle for giving them a decent burial."

Harry was very glad that most of the table didn't have a clue what they were talking about.

After lunch, they went up to Gryffindor tower for the thirty minutes they had before Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Harry had only just slammed himself into an armchair, when there was a knock on the portrait.

"Do you mind?" they heard the fat lady say.

"Who is it?" asked one of the senior prefects politely.

"Professor Snape," said the oily voice.

Someone immediately leaped up to open the portrait. Harry sat up straight, relieved, but confused as to the reason why Professor Snape had come to Gryffindor tower.

Snape stood in the empty space, looking in at the assorted Gryffindors, who stared back at him. His robes were a little singed, but otherwise he looked all in one piece.

He looked reluctant to actually enter the cheery red common room, instead he looked around until he found Harry's face.

"Potter!" he roared. "That…. That… pet of yours has invaded my dungeon!"

Harry had to try extremely hard not to laugh. So that was where Sleeve had been, all this time! Why, was a different question, one that he intended to ask his friend as soon as he found him.

"Well?" demanded Snape, his cold eyes flashing, daring anyone to ask what he was talking about.

"Well what, professor?" Harry asked, as politely as he could, getting out of his chair and spreading his arms wide in innocence.

One of the first years giggled, but was quickly silenced as the potions master glared in all directions.

"What do you propose to do about it?" Snape snarled at Harry.

"I can't watch over him all the time, Professor," Harry protested.

"Then I suggest you tell him not to leave this tower. In any case, you are coming with me and removing that… thing from my dungeon. Now, Potter! Unless you want to lose so many points Gryffindor will be in debt for several months."

Several people started muttering angrily then, so Harry left with an apologetic glance in Ron and Hermione's direction.

Both of them looked completely baffled, and Hermione looked murderous.

Maybe I ought to have filled them in a bit more, Harry decided far too late, as he and Professor Snape made their way down all the flights of stairs in the castle to the dungeons.

They didn't say a word to each other, and Harry had to run to keep up with Snape's huge stride.

Wendy was in the entrance hall, examining the golden framed list of Head Boys that hung at the very end.

She turned when she heard them approach. "Severus," she said in a tone that must have irritated Snape to hell and back. "You've stolen my student." She didn't sound the least bit surprised to see him.

Snape said nothing, only scowled at her and swooped off down the staircase to the dungeons. Harry stopped to wink at Wendy before running off after him.

When they reached the door to the classroom dungeon, Snape hung back. He opened the door, and then reached out to give Harry a little push inside.

Would you rather freeze to death…?

Harry's senses screamed. Without meaning two, he extended his internal shield to about five inches from around his skin. Snape pulled his hand back with a cry of pain.

Harry flattened himself against the doorjamb and pulled the shield back into him. When he was sure it wouldn't hurt anyone, he looked at Snape.

The potions master was looking at him with disbelief in his eyes

"I'll just… go then," said Harry, and ducked inside the classroom. He closed the door behind him and collapsed against it.

That had been far too close. He'd thought Snape was going to hit him, and his defences had reacted.

He couldn't' afford for that to happen unless he wanted it too. What if one of his friends gave him a friendly punch and he gave them a fatal electric shock?

He gathered himself and looked around for Sleeve. When he didn't see him he knelt down on the floor.

"Hello?"

"Who is there?"

"It's me, Harry."

"Harry… that name is strange to me."

Harry jumped.

"Aren't you Sleeve?"

"Hmm… Sleeve… No. I do not know this name either."

Great. Just what Harry needed. Another snake on the look out for Snape's blood.

"Will you come out so I can see you?"

There was a rustle, and then the snake obeyed.

Harry gasped. The snake emerging from behind the cupboard was much bigger than Sleeve. It was about half as long again as his arm and at least half as thick.

"Who are you?"

"I have no name."

"Why not?"

"My master has no need of names."

"Sleeve had a name," Harry said indignantly.

"Who is this Sleeve?"

"Er… Toxica Caninus?"

The snake hissed in anger. "That young fool is a traitor. He abandoned his position."

"Are you a death fang?"

"You are correct."

"A full grown one?"

"Indeed."

"What are you doing here?"

"I am here to fulfil the task that my brother failed."

"Oh right. You mean you're spying on Snape."

This straightforward form of address seemed to startle the snake a little.

"I don't suppose you'd consider turning over to our side?"

"I have only one master."

Harry sat back on his heels and regarded the snake. He was pretty sure it wasn't going to hurt him, but if it wasn't going to be any help, he wasn't sure how he was going to get rid of it.

He certainly couldn't let it go to report to Voldemort, that was for certain. That would put both Snape and Sleeve in a very large amount of trouble.

Then he remembered something that had been the turning point in Sleeve's defection.

"You'd get a choice."

The snake hesitated. "A choice…"

"Yes. You can decide things for yourself."

"I follow my master's orders."

"If I was your master, you would have a choice."

The snake considered this for a moment.

**

When Harry came out, the large black snake wrapped around one of his arms, Snape blanched and backed off.

From the snake or him, Harry wasn't sure.

"Damn it Potter! That thing is huge! How did it get so big?"

"It's not the same one, Professor," Harry explained calmly.

"Not the same…" Snape looked on the verge of collapse.

"I imagine there'll be a lot coming to look for you," Harry told him, a small part of him rejoicing at this chance to get one over on Snape. "I'll take care of them. All you have to say is that they never found you."

Snape stared at him. Then he practically fled off in the opposite direction to the staircase.

"He left in a hurry," remarked the large snake.

"He's like that," said Harry.

In that moment, Harry suddenly realised that he did not have nearly enough time to get the snake up to Gryffindor tower, or even hide it, before it was time for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Harry hissed a swearword and the snake shuffled uncomfortably. It was a very rude word, and snakes were not given to impoliteness.

"Sorry. Only I have to go to my next lesson, and I'm not sure what to do with you."

"Hide me there," the snake jerked its tail towards his bag.

"Will you stay there?" Harry asked doubtfully.

The snake made a sound that did not translate, but told Harry that it was extremely bad manners to doubt the credibility of one's snake 'servant'.

**

"Where have you been?" Hermione demanded the moment he turned the corner, panting, taking care not to jostle his bag. "What on earth was Snape talking about, and why did you go with him?"

Harry was about to answer with another annoying vague reply, when Wendy turned up and saved him.

Thanks. It's the first time.

"Hello class! Welcome to your first Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons with yours truly. Inside all of you, don't dilly dally."

"The woman's a lunatic," Harry heard Lavender whisper disapprovingly.

"Just because someone has a sense of humour, Lavender-" Ron started, but Hermione quickly span him around and made him sit down in the front row so that he couldn't see anyone except Professor Little.

That seemed to cheer him up.

Harry very carefully got his books out, as Wendy took the register.

"Right then," she said when she'd finished. "Today we're going to be doing a little shield work. It's not often taught, but I've been given my orders."

She giggled a little nervously. "Personally I prefer the shield method. It works effectively when taught properly."

Think you can manage that? Harry thought with a smile.

"Before we start, I'm going to banish my tutee from the classroom."

Harry jumped. Hermione and Ron stared at him.

"There are things I'd rather he didn't hear – not from me, anyway." She gave Harry an insolent, but guilty, grin.

"Potter, in there please." She pointed with her wand to an adjoining classroom door that had definitely never been there before.

Harry got up. Now was definitely not a good time to leave his bag unattended, but he had no way of telling Wendy so without the rest of the class hearing.

"Am I allowed back in?" he asked.

"Er… no."

"What am I going to do for a full two hours?"

Wendy smiled. "You'll work with this." She handed him a little ball that seemed to be made of metal. When he got hold of it, the unexpected weight made his hand drop to knee-level.

"What is it?"

"You'll see. Shoo, Potter. Press the little red button on the back to start it – only I'd wait until you've a lot of space to run."

Harry looked at the metal ball. It was big enough to fit comfortably into his palm, a little bigger than a snitch.

He turned to go, full of foreboding, but Wendy stopped him.

"Just a minute Potter. Expelliarmus!"

Harry's wand flew out of his pocket and into her waiting hand. The class gaped, Harry made a face.

Then he turned and made his way into the side room, the little metal ball held tentatively in his palm.

**Ok, ok. I was going to finish the day, really I was… but then I realise I haven't posted in over a week and this would be as good a time as any to stop. My plan is falling to pieces. Feel free to crucify me.

I tried to answer as many reviews as I could this time. Mainly because I have nothing else to do, and it irritates people.

Here be thanks:

Evil Willow

Chaser: I do my best. I used to update everyday. Some people do. Some people take over a year – no joke! Count yourself lucky!

Immortal Rose: Hi fellow Rose. I'm really glad you liked the howler scene. I was kind of aiming for a humorous point.

shinystars007: There's a problem I haven't quite got round to fixing yet…

Ugly Duckling

Myk

Lanfear: Hello again faithful reader and your muse! I'm glad you both enjoyed the

last chapter.

Ivette Jamaya: I know. I like being cruel… he he… it's fun….

The Lost Cub

Fiddy

Amy

~Mary~: For a seventeen year old you are still funny! Not that they aren't funny…

damn now I put my foot in it. I'm glad you enjoy my story and I hope you continue reading!

lover of the Dragon

Autumn Dreams: Thank you faithful reader!

AllAboutMe

Lady Russell Holmes: **still trying to work out if it's a compliment…** Thanks!

You update soon too!

Centra-gal86: Great I'm glad you liked it!

Mysia: I'm planning on a lot more hatemail! It's fun to write!

Schulyr

Katani Petitedra: Hate school… I'm also planning on a howler when Voldie CAN

hear what he says WITHOUT the poison gas etc. Still trying to work out how to do it…

AllieSkittllez: Ahh. Everyone likes the howler bit. Me too, he he….

Ernie Prang: Devon.. not sure if I was joking or not… he's worked it out from his

dreams. I'll work that in somehow. Thanks!

Darkfire

Karen: Brilliant!

John

Suna

Wingweaver

Lorelei Wood: Think you must have forgotten to ask… oh well you're up now!

Darienetta Stoke

Skahducky: The Dursleys are a difficult situation. It will take time to develop them

properly. Right now I am content with my almost Dursley free plot with Harry not talking about it. Makes things a hell of a lot easier.

Moonlight Rose

Gaheris

Kaitie Bell: I know I am irritating with that phrase. I love it.

Jordan

RISER155

Phoenix Flight

Nova

Bumblebee Bucy: Thank you special!

Lani Lathron

Midnightmountain: You are Sarah's sister. Don't try to fool me.

Hpfan

A-Potter-Person: …?

Bohemian Snitch: Thanks!

Aeternus and Vicieuxsinge: the 'the' virus? What the hell?

Melissa

Hyperwriter

chanzo654

gothic lover: he he

Ssjgoddesschico

Endless-luv

Azngurl

Shells: Glad you appove! Don't go flaming all the other authors…

J

Ascafeniel: yay nice big fight.

Rosie: Thank you ever so much for your nice comments especially about my

rhyming song. You are the only one who commented **boo hoo!** but I can't blame everyone else – when I read the first two lines of a song and it doesn't impress me, I hit scroll before you can say: The next line is better! Don't worry though – every one is lost when it comes to 'would you rather freeze to death.' It's part of my charm. One little mystery that will not be solved for a long time. Surprisingly, I do actually have an answer. Hang off the wall and rot… was a completely made up phrase to mean unoriginal and I claim full responsibility to anything this may have done to anyone's stability system. Voldemort/Sleeve worries – well you just have to look at them as if there is a logical reason for everything. When magic's involved you needn't worry about such things. Always a reason.

Anya Wood: God, leave me alone! LOL just kidding! Although sometimes I think

you do this just to be irritating. Glad you like the parts of my stories that you have actually read. See ya @ skool m8. One minute – not Felicity. Olivia.   

august wynd

Daisi

Yearing

**Hooray! A grand total of 60 reveiws! It has brought my average up to thirty – thank you everyone extra specially!!!!!!!!!!!!! **

Oh, yeah, if anyone has any ideas about the new snake's name… PLEASE tell me!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I suck at that stuff.

Thanks!

Laterose.