Questioning Loyalties

"Oh, that sounds wonderful. I will be glad to get a copy," she said excitedly. She was a fast reader and a bit of knowledge was better than none. Besides, it was written by Gryffindor, who wouldn't want to read it? Even Slytherins would jump at that chance.

"Harry, I was wondering something," Luna said, looking at him pointedly. "Why do you still wear glasses? I mean, you might be able to get your eyes healed. Or get contacts. Have you asked Madam Pomfrey? Or attempted to research it with your project?" She really wanted to see if he could pull off something that even the best healers could not.

"I didn't know I could, and they're useful, but I'll look into it," he answered vaguely, he wanted her to understand there was a reason why he didn't use his new magic to rid himself of glasses, other than the fact that it never occurred to him. "Which reminds me I need to get new ones, too bad I didn't think of that while we were in Hogsmeade, or while I was out today," he added, remembering that these spectacles would fade.

"That's right, those are short-term, I had forgotten," Hermione stated a bit upset that she had overlooked it.

Harry waved his hand in a 'forget it' manner. "Don't worry about it, I'll get Madam Pomfrey to magic up a new pair," he lied. He was going to fix his eyes and make this pair plain glass. He once more opened his mouth to ask about Junior, when the twins came up and sat on either side of him.

"So what's this we hear about you sneaking off, ickle Harrykins?" Fred asked as he served himself some roasted chicken. They had just come back from Quidditch practice, and Wood had driven them hard. He was starved.

"Yeah, and why didn't you invite us?" George continued, picking the same food as his twin.

"I had no idea you wanted to go," was the answer. "Please, don't call me ickle, I don't mind Harrykins, much, but would prefer it if you stuck with Harry."

"Okay, Harry," they said together.

"Just for future reference, we always want to go," George stated with a smirk.

"Yeah, trouble is our middle name," Fred added with a matching smirk.

"Right, well I never know when I'll need new material, so how will I tell you when I'm about to go walkabout?" the dark-haired teen asked the matching gingers.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, when Neville stomped on her foot. She yelped and when she met his glare, she realized that she was doing it again. So, she held her peace, for now.

"Well, that is a puzzle, what with us being in different years," Fred said with a frown. The twins put their heads together behind Harry's back and had a quick discussion with mostly whispers and facial expressions.

They drew apart and they said, "We'll get back to you on that."

"Right, you do that. Hey, I have a question. Your dad told me about you and Ron coming to 'rescue' me during the summer before my second year. What was all that about?" Harry asked, looking back and forth between the two.

"Well, you didn't answer Ron's letters," Fred started as usual. "And I do have to say he was quite worried about you. Don't know why that changed," he added, rubbing his chin. "Anyway, he told us that your relatives didn't treat you right, so we stole Dad's car and went to find out what was going on."

"We got there, and there were bars on your window, locks and a cat flap on your door, and they were feeding you a cold can of soup once a day, or so you told us. Your poor owl was also locked in her cage. Both of you were starving. It's a good thing we showed," George continued, making Harry swing his head between the two.

"Did I tell you why they were doing that? Not that I can think of a good enough reason, but…" he trailed off. He really wanted to know. The more he heard about these Dursleys the more he didn't like them. He was piecing together his childhood from the tidbits people told him, and it looked like he might have been an abused child, or at the very least neglected. Either way it didn't sound like a happy home, which made him more determined to not go back. This new him might wind up hurting them. Abuse would explain his gut reaction to hide while he was on the streets.

"Something about Dobby ruining an important dinner engagement," Fred said with a frown as he tried to remember.

"Yeah, he dropped the pudding on a guest to get you in trouble with the Ministry," George laughed. That was funny, well until you got to the part where Harry was punished. But picturing an elf floating some large dessert over a woman's head and dropping it was hilarious.

"It worked to. You had them cowed, until they found out you couldn't do underage magic," Fred said.

"Why did he do that? I thought he was my friend," Harry asked, remembering Hermione vaguely touching on this subject, when she was retelling his life.

"He was trying to save your life," they said as one.

"Yes, he didn't want you to come to Hogwarts that year," Hermione added, hoping that Harry wouldn't look down on the little guy. "He really thought he was doing the right thing."

"Right, you mentioned that," our hero stated and then waved it away. He'd have to talk to Dobby about it, and the order came for it to be added to the databank. "So, who is the ugly guy with the weird eye, sitting at the Staff Table?" he finally got to ask. All six of them turned to teachers.

Snape's POV

"What are those children talking about? They just all looked this way," Snape asked warily as he watched five Gryffindor— and one Ravenclaw— heads turn towards where he and Moody sat.

He didn't need any more trouble. He still wasn't getting anywhere with the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron was up his nose all the damn time. He couldn't help if the kids in his class were useless. Dumbledore was still questioning him about that night; like his answer would change the more he was asked. He wondered what country he could hide in. Somewhere where there were no Death Eaters, Order members, or ghosts to blackmail him. No Potters or Blacks to make his live miserable. No twinkle-eyed men or torturous masters to control him. There had to be somewhere.

"I don't know, Snape, perhaps they found out that you're a damn Death Eater," the imposter snarled, playing his part. He was trying to use the magical eye to read their lips. 'Constant Vigilance' indeed. He cursed under his breathe when he realized they were talking about him. He threw his napkin down on the table, got up and stomped from the room without another word. He didn't need the attention on him.

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