The frost had crept in early that year.
By mid-October, the castle windows were already glazed with thin sheets of ice, and the whispers about Sirius Black hadn't died down — if anything, they were growing louder. The Fat Lady's shredded portrait had been replaced, but the memory of what had happened lingered like the chill in the air.
Harry sat near the common room fire, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of cocoa. Hermione and Ron flanked him, their books spread across the table, though none of them were really reading.
"You should've told someone," Hermione said for the third time that evening. "Seeing a huge black dog twice? That's not normal, Harry. It's—"
"—a Grim," Ron muttered. "That's what it is."
Harry rolled his eyes but didn't respond.
The door to the common room opened.
Draco Malfoy.
All three Gryffindors looked up in surprise as he entered — or rather, stumbled in with a group of Slytherins behind him.
"What are you doing here?" Ron snapped, already half out of his chair.
"Professor Snape is holding a late patrol seminar," Draco drawled, brushing imaginary lint off his robe. "Apparently, some of us need to learn how to handle ourselves in a real threat situation. He wanted me to… observe the Gryffindor side of things."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Draco smirked but didn't answer. Instead, he let his eyes scan the room, lingering briefly on Harry's cup of cocoa.
"…Didn't think the Chosen One needed hot chocolate to sleep at night."
"Didn't think you needed Snape to hold your hand around the castle," Harry shot back.
Draco's smirk twitched, like it wanted to become a grin but didn't dare.
"Touché."
Snape appeared in the doorway a moment later, robes billowing like stormclouds. His eyes swept over the students, then focused sharply on Harry — or more precisely, on the barely noticeable tremor in the boy's fingers.
"You haven't been sleeping," he said without preamble.
Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"
Snape ignored the question and turned to the group. "Five-minute observation period. Then back to your dormitories. No dawdling. This isn't a tea party."
Draco leaned against the edge of the table near Harry, far too comfortable in the enemy territory for Ron's liking.
"What's he on about?" Ron muttered under his breath. "Since when is Snape worried about how much you sleep?"
Hermione didn't answer, though she was clearly watching Snape closely.
The potions master paced once through the common room before stopping near the fire.
"Tell me," he said, his voice soft but cutting, "how many of you understand the difference between being watched… and being hunted?"
A few students shifted uncomfortably.
Draco's smirk vanished.
Snape continued. "One leaves you anxious. The other leaves you dead."
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"I suggest you begin acting like students whose lives are not guaranteed."
Silence. Only the crackling of the fire answered.
Snape gave Harry one last unreadable look, then turned to leave. Draco followed after a beat, but not before giving Harry the briefest glance — not mocking, not gloating.
Almost… hesitant.
⏤
Later that night, Harry couldn't sleep.
Again.
He wandered the halls under the safety of his invisibility cloak, Marauder's Map in hand. He needed to see it. To know where Black was.
As he passed the suits of armor near the Astronomy Tower, a noise made him stop.
Footsteps.
He ducked behind a pillar.
"Out again, Potter?" came a voice — dry, amused, familiar.
Snape.
Harry slowly pulled the cloak off, raising his hands like a child caught with sweets before dinner. "Sorry."
Snape narrowed his eyes. "No, you're not."
Harry didn't reply.
They stood there for a long moment.
Then Snape, to Harry's shock, lowered his voice.
"He's not after you."
Harry blinked. "…Black?"
Snape looked away, jaw tense. "He might want to kill you. But that's not his goal."
"What does that mean?"
But Snape was already turning. "Go back to bed, Potter. Before I change my mind."
Harry didn't move.
"…Do you know something?"
Snape's pause was so slight it could've been imagined.
"I know many things. Most of them won't help you right now."
And with that, he swept away.
Harry stood there for a moment longer, map clutched tightly, as the shadows of the castle grew colder around him.
Somewhere far below, a dog's howl echoed in the Forbidden Forest.
And Harry was no longer sure who he feared more: Sirius Black… or the secrets the adults kept buried.