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Harry Potter and the Book of Days	By : Stoeffl Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2171 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.
Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.
Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R.

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Chapter Seven
TRICK OR TREAT

~ He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He lo... ~

"Hey Harry!" Hermione stood in front of him, waving frantically, and by the look on her face, starting to get annoyed. "What happened to you? I've tried now for half an hour to get through to you!" She sat down on the couch beside him and grilled him with her questioning stare. "Was it so bad that you fell into a stupor?" The girl patted his shoulder, trying to cheer her 'sad' friend.
Harry started to grin like the Cheshire cat and took Hermione's hands in his. This caused, the now completely confused girl, to look at him expectantly. "Oh, it wasn't bad, by any means." Harry winked at her conspiratorially.

Hermione's eyes grew as large as saucepans as she started to comprehend what Harry was implying. "Are you trying to tell me that Snape and you...!" she burst out loud.

"Shh!" Harry hushed her, scanning the room for any unwanted attention, but nobody had heard her excited squeal. Or maybe nobody was interested in the hottest news about the all-feared Potions Master.

"You mean you and he are an item now? What did he say, and most importantly, what did you do?" The agitated girl had freed her hands from Harry's hold, and she now had a tight grip on his cloak sleeve, pulling at it demandingly. "Come on, tell me!"

Harry decided that he definitely liked his friend's wailing. Hermione begged him with her eyes to tell her about his last encounter with their teacher. "Just wait until Ron is here, andn I'n I'll tell the both of you." With these words he scanned the room for any signs of his other best friend. "By the way, where is he?"

Hermione, who was close to wailing once more, pouted. She sat back in the couch and crossed her arms over her breasts. "Filch got him when we left the Great Hall. I think he has to clean some ancient cupboard in some dusty room nobody has used for hundreds of years. Again."

"Poor Ron. Filch apparently revels in the opportunity to torture him."

Ron had spent almost every second of his spare time doing the most useless and senseless tasks imaginable. This included scrubbing the planks of the dock, dusting every single picture and portrait in Hogwarts, and archiving all of Filch's bills and documents going back to his first day as Hogwarts's caretaker.

"Wonder what the nasty git came up with this time?" Harry settled back on the couch and ignored Hermione's questioning look and her pleading whimpering. When the girl started to whine like a little puppy and batted her eyes at him, Harry sighed, defeated. "Okay! I'll tell you what happened, but promise you'll stop looking at me like that, 'cause it's scary, believe me."

Hermione squealed and moved closer to her friend. She didn't want to risk missing even a single detail. "I promise to be nice." She let go of Harry's cloak sleeve and folded her hands in her lap.

Harry checked a last time to make sure no one else was listening, then began with his report.

"Hurry up, they're already at the dock!" Ron sped towards the entrance door. He couldn't wait for their new friends to arrive. The redhead hadn't stopped talking about Val, Fëanor, and Vincent since he woke up. He was eager to meet them again.

Harry and Hermione followed closely behind him, almost bumping into a group of First Year Ravenclaws that had assembled in the Entrance Hall to get a good look at the Muggles. Harry grabbed his friend's hand and dragged her behind him, forcing her to speed up. "Hermione, get moving!"

The breathless girl, tried her best to keep up with the two energetic boys. She suddenly realised that she should start doing sports of some kind. Maybe Professor Slater had been right when he told them that a healthy body always hosted a healthy mind. She stumbled over Mrs Norris and almost fell down before Harry caught her.

"Stupid animal!" The black-haired boy growled at the cat, which hissed at them in turn.

After Hermione had recovered from the shock and the breathlessness, she shoved Harry to the entrance door. "Just ignore her," she told him. Hermione saw Ron standing outside waving happily at the arriving teenagers. "I think they're already on their way. Come on, let's go and join Ron."

The two friends headed over to the excited boy.

"Hi!" a friendly female voice greeted them. "Don't you have any classes today?" Val grinned at them excitedly and glanced at the castle behind the Gryffindor trio. Her eyes shone with wonder as she scanned the exterior of Hogwarts.

"Only in the afternoon. We were allowed out of morning classes to welcome you," explained Hermione, who greeted the rest of the Fëanor-Gans, as Ron, and Harry had named them. "You have the pleasure of enjoying Double potions with Snape this afternoon."

Nicolas snickered and smirked evilly. "This will definitely be fun." He followed the others into the castle. The first thing that he noticed where three ghosts floating near the ceiling, winking at the newcomers. He gaped at them open-mouthed and watched a transparent woman walk through a wall. "Wow, real ghosts. I love this place already."

The other Muggles couldn't help but agree with him. Fascinated, they scanned the surroundings.

Harry laughed and looked at Hermione and Ron, who beamed at their new friends proudly. "Well if you like the Grey Lady, the Bloody Baron, and Nearly Headless Nick that much, you're definitely going to love the moving staircases, and the pictures and portraits."

"Moving staircases?" Nicolas's eyes grew even larger, and he craned his head to see what Harry was talking about.

"What's the matter with the pictures and the portraits?" asked Fëanor, who still kept his eyes on the beautiful ghost lady.

Harry grinned. "You'll see. We have a while until Potions starts, and after we help you carry your stuff to your rooms, we'll give a grand tour of the school." He motioned the entranced students to follow him and left for the Berkeley dormitories. "Your dorms will be in a tract close to the Gryffindor tower since we're your partners. Come on, let's get moving!"

Glancing a last time at the ghosts, Fëanor, Val, Vincent, Nicolas, and Sarah left the entrance and made their way to their new dorms.

"Hey, Val!" Sarah waved her friend over. She stood in frof a f a glass showcase and looked at various cups and plaques. "Look, this one is for a James Potter. Do you think he's a relative of Harry's?"

Val read the engraving under the plaque and thought about Sarah's question. "If my calculations are correct, he should be Harry's father." She pointed at the year next to the name. "See, this was about twenty years ago. So it would only make sense that this James Potter is Harry's father. It says he was the Gryffindor seeker. What's that supposed to mean? Is this Quidditch some kind of Hide and Seek?"

When they heard the others approach them, the two girls left the showcase. Val waited for Nicholas to finish his explanation of his last adventure with Fëanor and Vincent, then she addressed Harry. "Harry, we found a plaque back there in a showcase and wanted to ask you if James Potter, whom it belongs to, is your father?"

Harry smiled sadly, and his Housemates eyed him carefully, looking for any sign of distress. "He was my father, yes. My parents are both dead. They died when I was a baby."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know." Val hugged the sad boy and stroked his tousled hair. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn’t have asked."

"It's not your fault, you couldn't have known. What plaque did you find, by the way?" Harry tried to give everybody a strong smile to reassure them that he was okay.

"Back there. It's a Quidditch plaque. What's that, anyway? Some wizard form of Hide and Seek, cause it says that he was a Seeker."

Ron and Harry laughed. "No," Harry said. "Quidditch is the Wizard sport. It's like football or soccer for Muggles. It involves flying on broomsticks, but you'll see it soon." Harry grinned happily and tried hard not to laugh at the stunned looks on his new friends.

"It says dice them, not slice them," Fëanor whispered inconspicuously to Neville, who worked at the table in front of him. Neville glanced fearfully at the Potions Master's back and started to dice the rest of the daisy roots.

"Ten points will be taken from Berkeley for your interference with Longbottom's potion, Mr Remington," growled the deep voice from the back of the classroom. The dark teacher sent Neville a death glare and stalked to the trembling boy. "Mr Longbottom, even a Muggle knows more about Potion-making than you, it seems. Your impertinence insults my teaching skills. If you had a smaller brain, you would be a microbe, I am afraid."

Tears started to run down the terrified boy's cheeks as he heard the Slytherins and the Aristotles snicker. Harry glared angrily at the teacher. Although he loved the man, at times he could enrage Harry. Times like these. There was absolutely no reason to treat Neville like Snape did. The poor boy almost went into a stupor before every potions class. Clenching his teeth and growling angrily, Harry forced himself to calm down a bit before he started insulting the teacher.

Ron was not so successful with suppressing his temper, and the angry redhead glared at his teacher. "Leave Neville alone, you greasy bastard. He did nothing to give you cause to treat him like shit."

Hermione, who was working with Val at the table next to Ron and Vincent, inhaled sharply and stared, petrified, at her housemate and best friend.

Harry, worriedly waited for the inevitable to come.

"Mr Weasley, your behaviour makes me believe that you are enjoying your co-operation with Filch. Be careful with the vocabulary you are using, and never forget how to address a superior." Snape had stepped away from Neville, who had been so surprised by Ron's outburst, that he had stopped crying and was now watching the scene unfolding before him.

Ron refused to back down and held the eye contact with the Potions Master. He knew, the moment the words left his mouth, that they were extremely stupid, and he feared that he would have to be the caretaker's slave for the rest of the school year.

"It seems like Mr Potter hasn't taught his friends any manners." The teacher turned to the workbench behind Ron's, from which Harry and Fëanor watched silently. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your classmate's cheek." With these words, the teacher turned away from the students and walked to his desk.

Before anybody was able to react to this strange behaviour, the bell rang and ended the class.

"Don't forget to cover your cauldrons with your linen cloth, or else the potion will be ruined by next cl Dis Dismissed."

Everybody quickly threw their cloth over the cauldron and left the room as fast as possible.

Harry softly touched Fëanor's elbow and leant closer to his ear. "I'll stay behind. I have some business to attend to."

Fëanor nodded and left with the rest of the group.

Finally, Harry was alone with Snape, and he quietly approached the teacher as he collected his books and parchments from the desk. Standing behind him, Harry carefully reached out to the black-clad figure. "You told me to think about us and tell you about my decision."

Severus turned to face the boy and waited silently for him to continue. If the Gryffindor thought that he would help him there, then he was wrong. Over the years he had learned to be careful with words and emotions, and the first lesson he had learned was never to confess anything until there was no other possibility. He felt for the dark-haired annoyance in front of him, and he was sure that if he allowed himself to, he would even love Harry. But he definitely would not make the first step. For all he knew, this could be a prank, and Harry's sidekicks waited outside the door to barge in and make fun of the greasy, perverted Potions Master.

Harry looked into the deep black eyes and raised his outstretched hand to the pale face. Softly he brushed a strand of silky hair away and stepped closer until his body was pressed against the older wizard. "I have made my decision, but before I tell you what I decided, you have to tell me why you treat Neville so meanly."

Severus clenched his teeth, and his eyes became cold and hard. "What does it matter to you how I treat Longbottom?" His voice cut through the silence in the classroom, and he felt the smaller body flinch at the words.

"It matters a lot. Neville is a friend of mine, and I care for all of my friends. He may not be the most intelligent or gifted student, but that gives you no reason to treat him like that." Harry forced himself to sound strong, though he couldn't help snuggling closer to Snape and to seek comfort and safety in the man's embrace.

Severus felt his heartbeat speed up when Harry pressed even closer to his body. Embracing the warm and yielding body, Severus rested his head on Harry's and breathed in the arousing scent of chocolate and cinnamon that clung to his hair. "If it means so much to you, I will try to be more friendly to this plague."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

"Now tell me about your decision. What will I be to you in the future?"

"Let me show you the answer to your question." Harry reached up to the back of the man's neck and dragged his head down so he was able to press their lips together. The kiss began softly but gained a passionate note when Severus moaned into Harry's mouth. "You like that, don't you?" Harry held fast to the taller man's shoulders and heaved himself up so that he was able to wrap his legs around Severus's waist.

Severus felt that he was losing control over himself. He carried the clinging boy to the nearest workbench and set him down on it. "I hope you know what you are asking for, because this is the last time I give you the chance to back out of this, Harry." Severus stroked the unruly bangs out of Harry's face. "So, tell me. Do you want this to continue?"

Harry moaned desperately and pressed his crotch against Severus's hard thigh. "Oh yes, please..." He grabbed the stiff collar of his lover's clothes and tore at the top buttons to free the soft, pale body underneath the dark garment.

Severus realised that the boy's trembling fingers were incapable of opening his robes; he took Harry's hands in his and put them around his neck. "Leave them there," came the purred command, and he bent down and crushed the soft lips with a passionate kiss. He carefully probed the other lips open with his tongue and let it slip inside to taste Harry.

The kiss sent Harry's senses on overload, and he started to rub his erection frantically against his lover's. Still clothed, all he could feel was the hardness and the heat radiating from the man's flesh.

Severus thought he would lose his mind as Harry began to rub himself against him. The kiss had developed into a battle of tongues, and he feared he might lose consciousness if they didn't break for air soon. He held the boy's hips still with one of his hands and wrapped Harry's legs around his waist.

"Eek!"

The loud scream from the classroom door made the two men jump, and they crashed to the floor with a thud. Worriedly, Severus looked to the person who had found them in this delicate position. His worry changed into anger when he saw Hermione Granger gaping at them. "How can I be of service, Miss Granger?" he growled dangerously.

"Um, well, I, I was sent from Professor McGonagall to tell you, Professor, that the staff meeting has already begun." The girl studied her shoes in embarrassment.

"Merlin's beard, the meeting!" Severus hastily collected Harry and himself from the floor and straightened his clothes. Hurrying through the door, he stopped outside the classroom and turned to the two blushing students. He sent Hermione and Harry a slight twitch of eyebrow and then strode with quickly to the staff room.

Hermione shifted from one foot to the other and nervously wrung her hands. Harry was slowly losing his patience. "What? Just tell me." He adjusted his clothes and robe, brushing the dirt from his trousers.

"Nothing, it's just that, well, I didn't expect to find you in such a position. I'm sorry about my reaction, but it was quite a surprise." She raised her eyes from the shoes to Harry's face and smiled apologetically.

Harry couldn't be angry with her. It hadn't been her fault, after all. They should have closed and locked the door. Holy cricket, they hadn't even closed it! "Let's go and find the others."

"They're at the library." Hermione took his hand and dragged him to their destination.

The small group sat together at a table reading the books about Animagi for their Transfiguration homework. Vincent and Fëanor grinned devilish, obviously planning some mischief. Ron and Sarah snickered, amused, and Val groaned in annoyance.

"Really, the both of you are that stupid!"

"But it says here that a wizard or a witch never chooses the animal they transform into, but that the form resembles their attitude, or rather their character. So I just said that it must be real shit if it turns out that you are a flobberworm or some kind of mollusca." Fëanor tried to defend his point of view with Vincent nodding frantically.

Ron couldn't help it anymore and burst out laughing. Sarah followed close behind, and even Harry, who had only heard the last bit of the conversation, grinned.

"Hey, how did your conversation with Professor Snape go?" Fëanor asked. He closed the book in front of him and moved to the left to make some space for Harry to sit down. When he saw Hermione blush as she took her seat between Ron and Vincent, he frowned, confused. Seeing Ron's mischievous grin and Harry's nervous posture, he laughed and stage-whispered, "I hope Hermione here didn't disturb anything of importance."

Harry blushed now, too, and ignored the knowing grins directed at him. "No, we were finished talking anyway." He realised the stupidity of these words as the whole table burst out laughing.

Severus sat in a cosy armchair in front of the fireplace in the staff room, sipping a cup of tea and reading a letter from the Guild of International Potions Masters that he had received this morning. Arsenius Jigger had sent out informational letters about the schoolbook's new layout. Completely relaxed and engrossed in reading, Severus didn't hear the door open or Albus Dumbledore enter.

The headmaster smiled at the unusual calmness of the normally choleric teacher. As silent as possible, he sneaked--or to be more precise, walked, because headmasters never sneak--closer to the occupied chair. Finally right behind it, Albus softly tapped Severus's left shoulder.

Severus had been reading the paragraph about the newly added Potions, as something touched his shoulder. Surprised, he shot up from the chair, spilling the contents of the teacup on his lap. "Damn!" he cursed, whirling about to shout at the brainless idiot who had shocked him like that.

"May I have a word with you, Severus?" The headmaster calmly looked at the angry man opposite him. Nothing betrayed this inner laughing fit. "I have an important matter to discuss with you."

Scowling, the Potions Master sat down again. He watched the headmaster fetch a chair and put it beside his. When the old wizard had settled down, Severus looked at him expectantly, and after ten minutes of waiting for Albus to explain what he wanted, he decided to start the conversation. "Albus, you had something of importance to discuss with me?"

"Patience, Severus. We need not get to the point just yet." Dumbledore conjured up two cups of tea and handed one of it to the teacher. "Lemon Drop?"

Severus refused kindly and waited for the ‘inquisition' to start. He knew what would come next. The old headmaster of Hogwarts would be chatting away about everything that came to his mind, occasionally asking his opinion. After an eternity, he would suddenly stop and tell Severus his diagnosis. This was always the dangerous stage of the ‘conversation' because Albus always came up with the most annoying therapies for Severus's problems. These therapies varied from a fishing weekend in Canada to a pottery seminar in Switzerland. Once, he had sent the Potions Master to Yoga training, and another time he had insisted that Severus take singing lessons.

Anxiously watching the headmaster's every move and twinkle of the eye, Severus waited for the worst.

Albus was apparently oblivious of the other wizard's scrutinising stare and comfortably continued sipping his tea. After having finished his first cup and conjuring up a refill, he sighed contentedly and stretched his legs. Glancing in Severus's direction, he watched the other's anxious posture. Smiling warmly, he twinkled at the teacher, who paled instantly and longingly eyed the exit. "Well, let us begin." Dumbledore levitated his almost empty teacup to the mantle of the fireplace and turned towards Severus.

Severus felt pure panic rise inside him as he saw the older wizard's beaming face. He knew he was in deep. The last time Albus had been in such a disgustingly cheerful mood, Severus had had to watch, together with the headmaster, some dreadful Muggle soap opera about two rival families and the tragic love between two of their children. The show had turned from weird to freaky when it turned out in episode 1756 that the father of the girl had had affair with the brother of the secretary of the uncle of the boy, and therefore the girl's school friend had had to live in a orphanage for ten years in her childhood. After these ten years, she was sold to a rich woman who was, of course, none other than the girl's mother who wanted to blackmail the school friend's true parents. Severus had already forgotten what had happened at the end, but he knew that he definitely did not want to see another one of these Tele-novellas.

"Now tell me, Severus, how are you getting along with Professor Ramdisk?" Albus enjoyed watching the Potions Master's expression when he tried to figure out the headmaster's motives or plans. Severus was so deep in thought imagining the worst that could happen, that the question caught him totally unawares.

"Tolerably," he answered cautiously. "Bill, is fortunately quite a comfortable person. I have no problems with him."

The headmaster nodded. "Good. What about the students? Are the Slytherins and the Aristotles getting along?"

Although he knew that these questions were not the reason why Albus had sought him out, he decided to play along and wait for the inevitable. "They are faring very well. In fact, friendships have even formed between some of them."

"Yes, I believe young Malfoy is never seen without Miss Silver, these last days. Well, that's very good indeed. I hadn't imagined the students would dedicate themselves to this project so entirely." Albus gazed into the fire and pondered the instant success of the exchange. "I think the school play will be quite a hit. Sigmund's proposal to include the teachers with the play was splendid. We decided to try out, too."

Severus snorted but kept his opinion to himself. He thought that he should have expected the old wizard to participate in such foolish nonsense. "What role are you trying for?"

"Ah, I'll play The Lord, and Sigmund will be Mephistopheles. Minerva asked the teachers to bring the requisites for their scene with them so that she would not have to prepare everything on her own." Albus leaned back into the chair and regarded the teacher closely. "You know, Severus, I am quite disappointed that you don't want to audition for a role, too. I always thought that you'd be the perfect Faust."

"There is no way I'm going to participate in a Muggle play." He watched, horrified, as Albus batted his eyes pleadingly at him. "No, Albus, you can't be serious."

"Ah, but Severus, to be honest, I had already decided on you to play this role when I chose the play. You'll be perfect, and imagine fun we will have, all of us, during the rehearsals."

"Fun?" spluttered the outraged Potions Master. "I will certainly have no fun, ever, in my entire life!"

"Now, I don't think that you'll never ever have fun, Severus. After all, Harry Potter seems to be quite to determined to ensure that you'll have plenty of fun very soon." Albus chuckled at the coughing teacher whose face had gone from flushed to colourless with the last sentence. "Did you believe I didn't notice the boy's infatuation? He was not very subtle."

"You know? But..." The normally verbally skilled wizard struggled for words. He stared at Albus disbelievingly.

"Don't worry, my dear boy, I think it will do both of you a world of good. If I had believed that either of the two of you would not profit from the relationship, I would already have interfered."

"But..."

"No buts," came Albus' reprimand. He smiled at Severus reassuringly. "Lemon Drop?"

When Harry visited Severus in the evening, the Potions Master was still shocked of Albus knowing about his relationship with Harry. The distant look and the absentmindedness worried Harry, and he tried to coax Severus to spill the beans. After some fruitless tries, he finally told Harry of his meeting with the headmaster. "So he knows. What exactly are you worried about? Did you expect it to stay a secret forever?" Harry sat on the heavy desk and comforted his distressed love. Lovingly, he stroked Severus's soft black hair. " Dumbledore won't tell anybody else about it, and it might be useful in the future to have a confidante."

Severus sighed heavily, but the reassuring words and the gentle touches from Harry had calmed him down already. He gestured Harry to come closer and embraced him once the boy had settled down in his lap. Contended, he closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into Harry's wonderful hair.

"Now, what about the play? Are you going to the auditions?" Harry felt the strong body tense and cursed himself for asking such a stupid question. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly.

"What for? You didn't do anything wrong. If anybody should be sorry, it's him. He just can't leave me alone." Severus glared at the mental picture of the old wizard. He concentrated and listened to the sound of Harry's breathing. This calming sound soothed Severus's nerves, and his body relaxed. "About the play. I won't participate in some brainless scheme of our dear headmaster only because he decided for me to do so!"

Harry stroked Severus's shoulder and closed his eyes, enjoying the other man's closeness. "An if I asked you to go the casting? You don't have to take the role, just go to the try out, that's all." Harry unbuttoned the collars of Severus's dark robe and the white shirt underneath it. He kissed the pale throat and started licking his way from chin to collarbone, nibbling at the skin there. "Ron, Fëanor, and I are going to try for a role, too. Even Malfoy will go."

Severus's breathing got heavier, and he shifted uncomfortably on the chair. He felt the urge to grab the boy and carry him somewhere more comfortable and secretive. The little nymph had now shoved his hands under the shirt and was caressing his chest.

As Harry heard the man's erratic breathing, he decided try out his newly found power over Severus. "I would love you to participate in the play." He opened the next four buttons of the robe and the shirt and showered the revealed skin with soft kisses. "Just think about all the hours of private rehearsing we would be able to spend together. Please go to the casting." Harry undid the rest of the buttons and licked the heaving chest.

"God, Harry!" Severus felt his hardness press against his restraining trousers. He thought he would die if this sweet torture didn't stop soon. "All right, you little devil, you win. I hope you and Albus are happy because I'm going to the auditions." He grabbed Harry by his shoulders and forced him to stop his ministrations. "Now, get back to your room and your friends before some student finds us like this again."

Harry pouted but hopped off his lap. Watching Severus trying to regain his composure, he felt proud of being able to make him react so strongly. "As you wish, but I'd have stayed some more." Sending Severus a sensual look, he slowly strolled to the door and winked teasingly at the huffing man. "I'll definitely enjoy the private rehearsals."

After Harry had left the office, Severus groaned, frustrated. Again they had stopped before anything had happened. Fighting for composure, he reminded himself that he wanted their first time to be something special.

"Thus on these narrow boards you'll seem
To explore the entire creation's scheme
And with swift steps, yet wise and slow
From heaven, through the world, right down to hell you'll go!"¹

After the last sentence of his part, Draco sent a questioning look to Professor McGonagall, who smiled at him kindly.

Realising that they were finished, Draco, Harry, and Ron bowed to the students sitting in the audience and left the stage. Everybody clapped when they strode to their seats, Harry and Ron in the middle of the audience next to Fëanor, Hermione, Val and Vincent, Draco next to Alicia Silver.

The Muggle girl congratulated him and hugged him warmly. Both took their seats as the next candidates took the stage.

"Our next two performers will be auditioning for the roles of The Lord and Mephistopheles. Headmaster Dumbledore, Doctor Feinstein, please begin as soon as you feel you are ready."

The two headmasters nodded at the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and got into their positions. Dumbledore, who performed the Lord, stood closer to the front of the stage, looking out over the crowd as if he watched some distant spectacle.

Feinstein, trying out for the part of Mephistopheles, stood in some distance on the left side behind the old wizard. He bowed to his 'superior' with mockery and smiled impishly.

"Your Grace, since you have called on us again
To see how things are going, and since you
Have been quite pleased to meet me now and then,
I thought I'd come and join your retinue.
Forgive me, but grand words are not my trick;
I cut a sorry figure here, I know,
But you would laugh at my high rhetoric
If you'd not left off laughing long ago.
The solar system I must leave unsung,
And to mankind's woes lend my humbler tongue.
The little earth-god still persists in his old ways,
Ridiculous as ever, as in his first days.
He'd have improved if you'd not given
Him a mere glimmer of the light of heaven;
He calls it Reason, and it only has increased
His power to be beastlier than a beast."

Feinstein had moved closer to the other headmaster during his speech and pointed at the students, showing God the very individuals he had been talking about.

Dumbledore ceased to stare into the distance and looked behind his left shoulder at the Devil. His whole demeanour became wary. Shaking his head slightly in disbelief, he returned to watching the faraway spectacle of human life.

"And that is all you have to say?
Must you complain each time you come my way?
Is nothing right on your terrestrial scene?"

Feinstein edged even closer to Dumbledore and watched the other's impassive face closely. After realising that he was completely unreadable, Feinstein looked in the same direction as Dumbledore.

"No, sir! The earth's as bad as it has always been.
I feel quite sorry for mankind;
Tormenting them myself's no fun, I find."

The old wizard turned toward his counterpart and looked at him calmly.

"Do you know Faust?"

Feinstein pretended not to know what the other was talking about. He frowned in concentration and scratched his chin.

"The doctor? Do you mean -

"My servant."

Feinstein smiled mischievously.

"Ah, he serves you well, indeed!
He scorns earth's fare and drinks celestial mead."

Dumbledore raised an elegant eyebrow and studied the man in front of him.

"He serves me, but still serves me in confusion;
I will soon lead him into clarity."

Suddenly the Muggle grinned evilly and took a step closer to the wizard. Still standing behind the other he leaned forward as if telling him some secret.

"If I may be his guide, you'll lose him yet;
I'll subtly lead him my way, if you'll let
Me do so; shall we have a bet?"

"Well, go and try what you can do!
Entice that spirit from its primal source,
And lead him, if he's not too hard for you
To grasp, on your own downward course -
And then when you have failed, with shame confess:
A good man, in his dark, bewildered stress,
Well knows the path from which he should not stray."

Having agreed to the bet, the two men shook their hands to seal the pact.

Their performance was finished, and Dumbledore and Feinstein bowed to the thundering applause and congratulated each other to their terrific job.

"I think we would be quite perfect for these roles," joked the old wizard and winked mischievously at his stage partner. Feinstein pretended to ponder this comment but agreed with him nevertheless. Turning to the audience he cleared his throat, signalling the students and teachers to cease the cheering and clapping. When it was quiet once more he started talking. "I am honoured by all this applause, but wait with your enthusiasm until you have seen our Faust. Although he refused to participate in the beginning, I was able to change his mind in the end, and believe me, there's nobody more suiting for this role. Now if everybody is ready for our next actor, I ask Professor Severus Snape to come on the stage."

The students snickered at the angry and annoyed scowl on the Potions Master's face. The head of Slytherin stormed to the front of the hall, black robe billowing behind him, and climbed the stairs up on the stage. He sent the headmaster a glare which would have sent Neville Longbottom into weeklong shock, but Dumbledore only beamed at his dark Potions teacher.

The two headmasters left the stage and sat down in the first row next to Professor McGonagall and Professor Sean Slater. The latter gave the man on the stage an encouraging thumb-up while the first tried hard to stay composed on not bursting out laughing. She knew only too well how 'willingly' her colleague had agreed to come to the casting. The fact that he was the only one trying for this particular role hadn't improved his mood in the least.

From their seats in the middle of the audience, Harry and his friends watched the whole scene, some with amusement and some with glee. He couldn't help but enjoy Severus's display of distress and annoyance. He had ranted and raved the whole evening about the headmaster's 'madness' and the folly of producing such a play at all. The man had been so worked up that Harry had had to hold him down on a chair by sitting on his lap and wrapping his legs around his waist and the back of the chair. The resulting snogging was more than worth having had to listen to Severus's continuing cursing for an hour. Not that Harry didn't like the sound of his voice roughened with anger. It always got a deep, husky note that made Harry shiver with desire.

"He is really happy to be here, one can see that," Fëanor joked, and laughed about the glaring teacher who dragged a chair and a table, with some parchment, a quill and an inkbottle on it, from behind the curtains on the middle of the stage, slamming three books on it, and sitting down on the chair. "I wonder how they were able to make him participate?"

Harry smiled, silently remembering what had changed Severus mind about acting and school plays.

Severus glared a last time at his traitorous colleagues, who hadn't helped him when he had tried to talk himself out of this foolishness. When his eyes caught Harry smiling at him encouragingly, his bad mood vanished and he started with his performance.

He turned half away from the audience, to the desk, and opened one of the books he had provided for the casting. Severus put his elbow on the table and leaned his head on his hand, turning the book pages with his other. After some seconds of studying the contents of the thick, leather-encased volume, he shut it with a loud thud and sighed exhaustedly. He leaned back in his chair and turned his face fully to the audience, letting his left hand slip from the book to his left thigh.

"Well, that's Philosophy I've read,
And law and Medicine, and I fear
Theology too, from A to Z;
Hard studies all, that have cost me dear.
And so I sit, poor silly man,
No wiser now than when I began.
They call me Professor and Doctor, forsooth,
For misleading many an innocent youth
These last ten years now, I suppose,
Pulling them to and fro by the nose;
And I see all our knowledge is vain,
And this burns my heart with bitter pain.
I've more sense, to be sure, then the learned fools,
The masters and pastors, the scribes from the schools;
No scruples to plague me, no irksome doubt,
No hell-fire or devil to worry about
Yet I take no pleasure in anything now;
For I know I know nothing, I wonder how
I can still keep up with the pretence of teaching
Or bettering mankind with my empty preaching.
Can I even boast any worldly success?
What fame or riches do I possess?
No dog would put up with such an existence!
And so I am seeking magic's assistance,
Calling on spirits and their might
To show me many a secret sight.
We learn to seek a higher inspiration,
A supernatural revelation
And where does this shine in its fullest glory,
If not in that old Gospel story?"

Severus snatched the heavy grey book on his right and ran his fingers softly over the cover. His eyes became dreamy and distant.

"Here is the Greek text; I'm moved to read
Its sacred words, I feel the need
Now to translate them true and clear
Into the German tongue I hold so dear."

Determined, he opened the volume and grabbed a roll of parchment and the quill. He started reading:

"In the beginning was the Word': why, now

He stopped and looked up from the book. Frowning, he pondered the sentence.

"I'm stuck already! I must change that, how?
Is then ‘the word' so great and high a thing?
There is some other rendering,
Which with the spirit's guidance I must find."

He nodded approvingly and dipped the tip of the quill into the inkbottle, poised to write his first bit of the translation.

"We read: ‘In the beginning was the Mind.'"

Severus hesitated and gnawed on his lower lip, frowning in concentration.

"Before you write this first phrase, think again;
Good sense eludes the overhasty pen.
Doesn't ‘mind' set worlds on their creative course?"

He looked into the distance, weighing the different words. Deciding on a certain one he started to write.

"It means: ‘In the beginning was the Force'"

After having written the last version down, he sat back and looked at the sentence, full of doubt. Shaking his head in resignation, he paused to rethink it once more.

"So it should be—but as I write this too,
Some instinct warns me that it will not do.
The spirit speaks! I see how it must read,"

He crossed the writing out and started it all over again.

"And boldly write: ‘In the beginning was the Deed!'"

After having finished writing the last sentence down, Severus put the quill next to the parchment and got up from the chair. He stepped away from the improvised study and moved to the front of the stage. Bowing low he turned and left the stage, striding through the deathly silent audience to the back of the hall where he sat down again and picked up where he had left off, glaring at every living creature except Harry.

The students and teachers sat stock-still as if they were in some kind of trance, but when Dumbledore got up, they turned to face Severus and clapped enthusiastically. The spell was broken, and cheers and applause broke loose, shattering the old walls. Not one single person remained sitting; everybody jumped to her or his feet and clapped loudly.

Harry was so proud of Severus, he felt like his chest would explode any minute now. Eyes brimming with happiness, he scanned the hall, noting the others' frenzy, until his eyes rested on his love. The dark Potions Master scowled at the persons next to him but he flashed a short smile at Harry, when their eyes met.

"Now, now, everybody please take you seats!" Dumbledore shouted, trying to calm the audience down, but his voice was overpowered by a loud scream of, "Professor Snaaaaape!!!" and several cheers of, "Go Slytherin, go!!" The old wizard smiled impishly at the Potions Master, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Severus sighed dramatically, stood up, and brushed an unruly lock of hair behind his right ear. He bowed again to the cheering crowd and crossed his arms over his chest, sending his famous death glare in each direction.

Harry turned to Fëanor, who had a hard time, deciding if he should applaud the teacher's incredible performance or if he should burst out laughing about his behaviour. "I think there's no way anybody will let him back out now."

Harry snickered evilly, "He'll hate spending so much time away from his beloved dungeons, and I know exactly who'll have to encourage him."

Fëanor finally decided to do the latter and laughed so hard that he had to hold his aching sides. Snape's daring glare and Harry's hungrily glinting eyes sent him into a laughing fit.

The month was quite eventful, and the wizards and Muggles were more than occupied with getting to know each other. Every week they had to do research on various topics, and the best work was awarded thirty points. The empty space of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students who stayed at Umberford for this month was necessary for the Aristotle and Berkeley students who sat together with their partners in the Great Hall. In order to be able to let the project partners sit together at the same table, the First, Second and Seventh Years sat together at two different tables, Ravenclaw-Slytherin and Gryffindor-Hufflepuff, and the project groups at the other two tables.

The week before Halloween, the Muggle students started to make all kinds of preparations for the holiday. They made costumes and helped their Wizard friends with theirs. A feast was planned to take place at Hogwarts in the early evening, and afterwards there would be a party at Umberford.

On the afternoon of October 31st, the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws came back to Hogwarts together with the Ciceros and the Descartes. It was now the Slytherins' and the Gryffindors' turn to go to the Muggle school, and they were accompanied by their Aristotle and Berkeley friends.

Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville moved into the Descartes Fifth Class dormitory. There was no nice and cosy common room like they had at Hogwarts, but they had a computer room, and their own little study. The light rooms faced to the west, and in the distance, behind a nice little pond, they could see the old deserted abbey.

"Look, Snape and McGonagall are coming, too!" Ron pointed at two small, dark figures leaving the abbey, where the portal was located. The two teachers approached the school building swiftly.

About an hour later, Snape and McGonagall summoned their houses, and together with the Umberford Majors and headteachers, they made for Hogwarts.

"Harry, come on..."

"Are you sure, that it was mentioned in the chronicles?"

Harry, Ron, Fëanor, Vincent, Val, and Hermione silently sneaked closer to the voices. Fortunately, nobody had heard Hermione call Harry's name, or else they would have been found out.

"Absolutely. It says that the Book of Days was entrusted to a monk shortly before the disappearance of Merlin, and it is also mentioned that this monk stayed for some time here at the abbey."

Having reached the source of the noise, the teenagers peered into the room and saw Dumbledore, Snape, Flitwick, McGonagall, Feinstein, and Professor Wolfgang Wallenstein, Umberford's history professor, sitting together at a table, old books and parchments lying on the table in front of them.

Wallenstein shoved a pack of parchments to the side and picked up a heavy, ancient-looking book up and leafed through it, looking for a certain paragraph. Having found what he was looking for he read it out loud:

"The pagan writing of a certain master druid named Taliesin Merlin was collected in a anthology of magical recipes and spells. This book, referred to by the pagans as the Book of Days, was long believed to have been burnt together with the other pagan books and writings, but there is evidence that a monk of the Glastonbury Abbey was entrusted by the master druid himself with this book. After the monks' departure from the Abbey, we find no mention of the Book of Days until it appears in the library of the Ecco Abbey, which is a sister abbey to Glastonbury Abbey. Some people attempted to search for the book, although it was impossible to locate it. To this day there is no proof if the book really does exist and, if so, where it is now."

The teachers fell silent and pondered the possible whereabouts of the ominous book. Every one of them was afraid of what might happen if they weren't able to find it first.

Harry and the others silently left the scene and assembled in the Descartes study. They sat quietly for some time.

"Holy Merlin!" was Harry's remark when he finally was able to speak again. "Exactly what we don't need."

Fëanor frowned, confused. "From what I got, this Book of Days is dangerous in the wrong hands, but what exactly is it, and what does it do?" He looked at his wizard friends questioningly.

"In it there is the recipe for the Potio Immortalitas," explained Hermione. She shivered and snuggled closer to Vincent, who was sitting next to her. "If You-Know-Who finds this book before Dumbledore, he will become immortal, and there'll be no way to stop him anymore."

After this shocking news, the whole group fell silent again.
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Harry Potter and the Book of Days