"Harry's not alone," Hermione answered, no longer even pretending to be civil. "I think you'd better go back to your table, Adriana. The music's about to start."

"Harry can speak for himself, no?" Adriana replied, her dulcet tones revealing none of the irritation she must have felt.

"I'm sorry, Adriana. Hermione's right. I've got a guest tonight," Harry said with what Severus recognized as his public smile pasted on his face. It was the insincere one Potter traditionally wore whenever he had to speak to reporters, fans, or agents from the Ministry.

The dark beauty's gaze moved Severus' way. She looked him up and down. He could see the second she dismissed him as irrelevant from the way the puzzlement smoothed from her brow.

"Some other time, then," Adriana gave Harry a blinding smile and all but floated away from their table.

"I swear, when is that woman ever going to get the message!" Hermione quietly fumed once the Veela woman had left. "And, Blaise, would you please return your eyes to their sockets before someone trips over them! You, too, Ron!"

"Sorry," Ron started, looking dazed.

"You don't understand, Hermione," Zabini said, finally looking back at their table as the temptress took her seat on the other side of the pub.

"You're right. I don't understand. The lot of you act as though you've never seen a woman in your lives," Hermione complained.

"We haven't," George Weasley said, followed close by Fred's admiring, "Not like that one. Harry, there is definitely something wrong with you, my friend!"

"There's nothing wrong with Harry, Fred," Hermione quickly shot back, her cheeks flushed with anger. "Just because he's not making a fool of himself over that tart like the rest of you is no reason to disparage him. Not every man is a slave to his . . ." she stopped short and added, ". . . hormones," which was obviously not the word she'd originally intended.

"Hermione, a man would have to be dead from the neck down not to be affected by that," Fred quickly countered.

"That's me," Harry said in a strained tone that was attempting to be funny, "dead from the neck down."

"Harry, mate, sorry, I didn't mean . . . ." Fred quickly apologized.

"Forget it," Harry said, his cheeks red with embarrassment. "Excuse me a minute."

There was complete silence at the table while Harry sprang to his feet and moved as hurriedly as the crowd would allow to the men's room at the far end of the pub.

"Well done, Fred," Hermione's voice dripped sarcasm, "You are absolutely impossible."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean anything by it. You know I'd cut off my arm before I'd hurt Harry." Severus had never seen either of the Weasley twins look as guilt-stricken as Fred did at the moment. Actually, he'd never seen either of them look guilt-stricken at all, even after poisoning a score of first years while testing out their dubious inventions.

"You should try cutting off your tongue instead," she replied, completely unmollified.

An awkward silence fell over the table, during which everyone sipped their drinks and tried very hard not to stare at either Hermione or her brother-in-law.

Once Neville and Ms. Jefferson began to converse in undertones, Severus leaned across Harry's empty chair and softly asked of Ron, "What just happened here?"

Ron looked at him as if he'd just grown a third eye for a minute, and then he seemed to realize who was asking the question. His face softening, Ron bent close to him and whispered, "Adriana and her sisters were groupies of Harry's when he was with the Cannons. They never missed a game, or an opportunity to approach him. They still show up every now and then when he goes out for a night. They're harmless, but incorrigible."

"Groupies?" Severus questioned.

"Fans with an attitude," Ron translated. "Think Colin Creevey."

"Oh," Severus said and leaned back, still not understanding.

He was somewhat startled by Fred's words. Although none of the Weasleys had ever been known for their tact, they had been loyal to Potter to the death from nearly the instant the Boy Who Lived had set foot in Hogwarts.

He supposed that it were possible that Fred and George didn't know of Potter's sexual leanings to have committed such a faux pas. Stars knew, Severus would never trust the pair with such a sensitive issue, but he didn't think that Harry could keep that large a secret from close friends. Surely, if Zabini, Longbottom, and Ron knew of Harry's sexual orientation, one of them would have disclosed it to the Weasley twins, who had always been in the thick of the Gryffindor pack.

While he puzzled over the meaning of Harry's exchange with Fred Weasley and Hermione's reaction, a hush fell over the noisy pub as three people stepped up onto the platform. A sandy blond man with a long face and curls like a dandelion picked up the guitar from its stand. A short brunet with a dark beard claimed the fiddle. The third chair was taken by a diminutive blonde woman with a flute and several pennywhistles in her hand. Her long golden curls fell halfway down her back, Severus noted. All three performers were dressed in black robes and seemed as comfortable as three squibs could be while under the observation of a roomful of wizards.

Bubbling with good humour, no doubt due to her pub's packed-to-capacity crowd and the sickles she was raking in, Rosmerta stepped up onto the stage. The full-bodied barkeep was quite fetching in her deep red, form-hugging robes as she introduced her entertainers. Apparently, she'd performed the Sonorus spell before taking the stage, for her voice boomed out across the pub. "Welcome, everyone. Our entertainers tonight need no introduction, but I'll give them one anyway. The Three Broomsticks is proud to present Magic's Memory tonight. Please welcome Lynn Casey on flute, pennywhistles, and vocals, Jamie Dorens on guitar, and Ally Duvaney on fiddle."

Loud applause filled the pub. Obviously, the Hogwarts' crowd weren't the only repeat attendees.

When the clapping died down, Rosemerta shouted, "Sonorus musicas. Lumos musicos," and left the stage as the fiddle squealed to life and a magical spotlight lit the group.

At first, Severus was afraid that he was going to be subjected to yet another torture by music session, but after the initial grating note that seemed designed to catch the audience's attention, the violinist played a slow, dreamy air that seemed to tone down the nervous energy of the entire place and forced him to acknowledge that Harry was right. This music had nothing in common with anything Severus had heard before.

He couldn't take his eyes off the musicians as they played. The guitar was carrying the background chords, while the violin and flute made love to each other in minor keys in a truly haunting melody. There was an almost mesmerizing potency to the simple, but compelling music.

It was only as the song finished that he was able to look up from the stage. Harry still hadn't returned from the men's room.

"Oh, great," Ron muttered from his far side.

"Hmm?" Hermione asked, seeming to rouse herself from whatever spell the music had cast upon her.

"Harry's having some luck tonight. First that man-eater, and now Kendil," Ron said, gesturing with his chin to the back of the room.

"Eric's not bad," Hermione said, turning in the direction Ron had indicated.

Severus followed her gaze. Harry had apparently been stopped amidst the overflowing tables by a tall, muscular wizard with hair so blond he could have passed for a Malfoy. But his wide, handsome features were too Nordic to be part of that ancient clan. Severus had never seen the man before; and with that height, he would have been hard to miss. The blue robed stranger seemed to dwarf Harry as the two conversed. But, then, so did Ron and he.

He'd known Harry Potter for nearly sixteen years now. During that time, Severus had become very familiar with Potter's body language. Even before they'd become such fast friends over the last few months, Severus had been able to read tomes in the way Harry carried himself. For the first time in years, he was confused by the signals Potter's body was unconsciously broadcasting. Harry was standing close enough to this Kendil to indicate that he liked the man, but there was a guarded quality to his stance and features that Severus had never seen before. As he watched, Harry laughed at something the taller man said, but even that was off key, like he were holding something back.

Sounding uncertain, Ron said, "Maybe I should go over and – "

"Maybe you should sit right where you are," Hermione quickly countered. "Harry's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

"Yeah, but – "

"Ron, let him be," Hermione insisted.

After taking a quick glance around the table to assure himself that the Weasley twins were still absorbed with regaling Longbotom's lady friend with their school day antics, Severus quietly questioned, "May I ask . . . ?"

"Kendil likes Harry," Ron whispered over to him, looking very much like a worried father at the moment.

"And I take it that Harry doesn't care for Mr. Kendil?" Severus asked.

He watched Ron turn bright red. A light touch to his sleeve brought Severus' gaze to Hermione on his other side. In a soft undertone, she quietly explained, "Harry likes Eric fine. He just won't do anything about it."

"I don't understand," Severus softly admitted.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a meaningful glance around him that left him very irritated. After Ron gave what seemed a consenting nod, Hermione leaned in so close to him that her bushy, soft brown hair tickled Severus' cheek as she whispered into his ear, "Harry had a very bad experience a while ago. He . . . refuses to date anymore. Eric Kendil really likes him and keeps trying, even though Harry turns him down at least once a week."

Severus' mind had frozen at the 'bad experience' part. His blood seeming to run cold in his veins, he pressed his mouth close to Hermione's hair-draped ear and hissed, "Was he assaulted?"

He tried to tell himself that it wasn't any of his business, but there was a part of him that wanted to make it so. He was Slytherin enough to want revenge for wrongs done to his own, and, whether he liked to admit it or not, Harry Potter was now one of his own, if only by dint of the temporary familial relationship the Weasleys had given them when they'd fostered them both. If some stranger had used magic or force to take Harry against his will, Severus was determined to make the culprit pay for the deed. Although, considering Ron Weasley's protective streak, Severus didn't really believe that there was much chance of Harry's attacker still being alive if they were discussing rape or coercion here.

"No, nothing like that, thank heavens," Hermione quickly replied. She, too, glanced around as if to assure herself that they were not being observed before continuing, "Harry fell hard for someone who was more interested in his fame and fortune than him. He hasn't been the same since."

Not knowing what to say to that, Severus nodded. He waited for his anger to recede, but it didn't, and that was disturbing. It didn't make any sense that he would still be upset. His melodramatic fears had been laid to rest. Harry hadn't been physically harmed. So why did he still want to murder someone on Harry's behalf?

They were interrupted before Hermione could say anything further by the sound of the violin starting up another song on the stage. A second later, Harry slid into the seat beside him.

"Are you all right?" Severus leaned over to question as a jaunty reel spilled forth from the stage. Harry appeared tense, but otherwise himself.

"I'm fine," Harry whispered back. "I thought you'd be ready for another one of these by now."

Startled, Severus stared down at the glass Harry slid in front of him. Its rich bouquet and amber colour told him it was cognac.

"Thank you," Severus acknowledged, eyeing the man at his side.

Harry almost seemed braced for battle. As the seconds stretched into minutes, and Severus refrained from further questions, Harry slowly untensed beside him, relaxing in his chair until he was leaning ever so slightly against Severus as he sipped his ale and listened to the music.

When the reel had wound to a close, Harry asked, "Do you like the music?"

"I've never heard anything like it," Severus admitted. "Although, I still haven't heard anything to indicate that any magical power was being raised."

"Just wait," Harry said with a grin, seemingly himself again.

Sure enough, about a half hour later, Severus came to understand what Harry meant. When the guitar and pennywhistle began to perform a duet of an ancient tune written by some long dead Muggle harpist, all noise died in the overcrowded pub. Every witch and wizard's attention was focused fully on the stage as the air vibrated with raw magical power.

Severus hissed in a breath as the waves of energy first hit him. He felt Harry sit up straighter beside him as every wizard present basked in the treat. Each subsequent song seemed to add to the energy level, building a shimmering matrix of power, the likes of which Severus had rarely encountered. Once or twice, he'd felt something like it when Voldemort and his followers had performed some particularly gruesome, dark, and forbidden spell, but the idea that squibs could raise this type of power using Muggle music was incomprehensible.

The only logical explanation was, of course, that it wasn't Muggle music they were hearing. They hadn't taught this form of magic in Wizarding schools for the last three hundred years. He only knew of it himself because his grandfather had been such an ardent Dark Arts practitioner. Severus knew that he was quite possibly the only wizard alive these days that might recognize the magic they'd just been exposed to for what it truly was.

When the note of the last lament finally faded into the Three Broomstick's smoky air and the power dispersed, Severus sagged, as though released from an enchantment, which made perfect sense, since that was what had happened. He heard Hermione give a deep sigh beside him as she sat up in her chair. One by one, the other wizards at the table returned their focus to the present.

The Weasley twins, Longbottom, and his girlfriend all began to excitedly discuss the music at the far end of the table.

It took Severus a few moments to get his thoughts straight. This type of forbidden magic always had a stupefying affect upon its audience.

"They're amazing, aren't they?" Hermione asked in a sleepy tone. "Have you ever felt such power?"

"Voldemort didn't raise that much power when he sacrificed a human life to aid his spells," Severus said, and then asked the question that no dark arts enthusiast could ever refrain from voicing in such a situation, "Can it be channelled?"

Harry answered from his other side, "I've tried, but . . . ."

"Yes?" Severus prodded.

"When the music is playing, you can't focus on anything but the sound, even though you can feel all that power vibrating around you. I can't even levitate a salt shaker while they're playing, let alone use that power to enhance my own," Harry explained.

Severus nodded upon hearing his guess confirmed and then turned to the woman at his side, "And you, Hermione?"

"I've never even tried to use the power," Hermione replied. "I just love the music, and the way it makes me feel."

"I've tried to use it," Zabini said from across the table. Of course he would have. No Slytherin in his right mind could ignore that much raw power rippling around him, free for the taking. "It's just like Harry said. I couldn't even use my own power, much less touch the music's."

"So it nullifies a wizard's natural abilities – while doing what, I wonder?" Severus questioned, totally fascinated by the phenomena. "Perhaps it's a defensive measure to protect Muggles from our people."

"I never thought about that," Harry said. "But if Muggles don't have magic, where is that power coming from to start with? How can they nullify our powers when they don't have any of their own?"

"They didn't have any when they started playing, but what about now?" Severus voiced his thought without thinking.

"What?" Ron asked from Harry's far side.

"They're squibs, not Muggles. Squibs don't have enough magical ability to perform most spells, but many have vestigial abilities that can occasionally be enhanced under the proper circumstances," Severus said.

"What kind of circumstances?" Hermione questioned.

"The same that will enhance a wizard's power," Severus replied.

Harry, who'd been exposed to both methods, supplied, "Either by the forceful extraction of power or by voluntary donation."

"But . . . neither of those things are happening here," Hermione said.

"Aren't they?" Severus questioned. "Everyone at this table just reacted as though released from a charm."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked.

Severus speared Harry with his gaze. "You're the DADA teacher. What's the most close-guarded form of sorcery? What books are so dangerous that we won't even put them in the restricted section of the library?"

"Siren spells," Harry and Hermione simultaneously answered.

"Precisely," Severus nodded.

"Why are the Siren spells so dangerous?" Ron questioned.

Severus, Harry, Hermione, and Blaise Zabini all turned to gawk as one at Ron.

"Yes, you're right. Let's just read it as read that I never listened to a word of any lecture or opened a book on my own, all right?" Ron snapped testily. "Just answer the damn question."

A chastened Harry quickly supplied, "Siren spells are dangerous because the magic is worked into the very sounds or notes voiced. The spells don't depend on intent or incantations. The power is locked into a particular series of sounds. When those notes are played or spoken in their correct order, the spell is activated, with or without the user's knowledge."

"But how can that be?" Ron asked.

Hermione answered in an exasperated voice, "It's magic, Ron."

"So, if I just hummed the tune, whatever spell was tied to the music would be activated?" Ron questioned.

"Well, if you hummed every note in perfect tone in perfect key it would," Harry answered with an amused smile.

Severus looked quickly away, lest his own face betray him. Anyone who had ever been at the Weasleys' while he bathed knew that Ron couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.

"But . . . how could squibs get access to that kind of spell, let alone use it?" Harry asked.

"And I've heard these songs before, Severus, when I was growing up as a Muggle," Hermione added. "They've been played by Muggle musicians for hundreds of years. Most of them are so old that nobody knows when or where they were written. How could they be around that long without anyone recognizing what they were?"

"The only time they'd have an effect were when a wizard or squib were playing them," Severus answered.

"But how could Muggles know them at all?" Ron asked.

"In ancient times we lived among the Muggles. We often masked our abilities using their religious beliefs and superstitions. I think your squib friends over there stumbled upon a Siren-adept wizard's power enhancement charm. It's quite probable that the Bards who created these songs were true wizards. They probably used these songs to siphon their audience of their powers without any of them ever being the wiser. It's a very complex charm," Severus couldn't keep the admiration out of his voice.

"How so?" Zabini asked from across the table.

"Well, what we heard were really three Siren charms woven together. First there was a seduction charm to catch the listener's attention. The songs are really quite simple, but the listener becomes completely enthralled by the music and convinced that he has never heard anything so wonderful in his life. He is so overwhelmed by what he is hearing, that he doesn't really question the music's power over him. The second charm was, of course, the power drain. The wizard who created these was a true master. The drain is so subtle that not even wizards trained in the dark arts like Harry and myself were able to recognize its presence while it was in effect," Severus explained.

"And the third?" Hermione asked.

Severus cast a challenging glance Harry's way. His action had the same response it would have last week when they were wrestling with Ron on the sitting room floor.

Harry rose to the occasion and promptly answered, "A feel-good charm, to keep the listener coming back for more."

If there were a hint of a question about Harry's reply, Severus affected not to notice. "Exactly."

"Is it dangerous?" Ron asked, regarding the stage with obvious uneasiness.

Severus exchanged a glance with Harry. By their very nature, Siren charms were highly dangerous, that was why they were never taught in Wizarding School. A slight tilt of Harry's chin tossed the question into Severus' court. He could tell by the light in Harry's eyes that they'd come to the same conclusion; though how he'd substantiate that belief if asked, Severus hadn't a clue.

"Not in this venue, I would think," Severus replied. "The degree of musical ability necessary to perfectly recreate the songs we just heard is rare in wizards these days. I suspect that the musicians themselves are unaware of what they are doing. No doubt, they simply feel uplifted and energetic after a performance."

"Oh," Ron relaxed. "That's a relief. I really wasn't looking forward to telling Rosemerta that she was going to have to cancel her most popular entertainment."

"Knowing what they are sort of takes the fun out of it, though," Zabini remarked.

"Why?" Severus asked, surprised.

His fellow Slytherin shrugged and said, "We all thought the music was wonderful. Knowing we were duped by a spell takes away the mystery."

"The music is still wonderful," Harry argued. "We just know what it is now."

"Yes, but . . . ." Zabini's words trailed off.

"You don't really believe that you'll ever hear music played this well again, do you?" Severus questioned. "While it's true that recognition of what is occurring has removed some of the mystery from the event, it is equally true that no other musician could replicate what was done here. You've heard the dreck that passes for music these days. These musicians are still unique in their talent."

Severus tried to ignore the fact that his comment had all of those involved in the conversation staring at him again with various degrees of shock on their faces.

After an insufferably long moment, Harry smiled a smile at him that all but took his breath away.

"So are you still going to come every Friday night?" he heard Zabini ask.

"Of course we're going to come," Hermione and Ron said in unison, causing more laughter.

Trapped in the snare of Harry's smile and those bottomless pools of green, Severus was barely aware of any of it. Realizing how long he'd been staring, he forced his gaze away.

The music started up again and the conversations per force died down. Little could stand in the face of such powerful spellcraft.

Severus could feel Harry's heat down his entire left side as Potter relaxed into his chair and leaned against him under the music's effect. Besieged by the power vibrating through the room and Harry's enticing warmth, Severus felt himself go painfully erect. It had been so long since he'd had this reaction to another human that he barely knew how to cope. His arousal was the only thing real to him at that moment. He wanted Harry so bad that he could almost taste him.

Recognizing that thoughts like that weren't going to help him, Severus tried to concentrate on the music. It was magic; it should have had a stronger effect on him than this idiotic infatuation he'd developed. But the longing in the eerie air the violin and flute were playing only seemed to accentuate his need. If he didn't do something about this quickly, Harry was sure to notice. For that matter, everyone would notice. In the state he was in at the moment, he could barely breathe.

As the haunting melody wended to an end and the room exploded in loud applause, Severus staggered to his feet before the lights could come up and expose his problem. He'd never been so grateful for his concealing robes in his life.

"Excuse me," he muttered and stumbled through the crowd towards the men's room.

*****************