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Chapter Text

Harry was running full pelt down the dungeon corridor as he desperately attempted to make it down to the Potions classroom before the lesson began. Trust Hagrid not to understand the importance of Harry not being late to his next class. He'd only popped in to see him for a quick chat between lessons but had ended up being unable to deny Hagrid's offer of his infamous rock cakes as he'd insisted Harry had to try them since he'd improved on his previous teeth cracking recipe.

He was seriously regretting accepting now as he was undoubtedly going to be late for his first potions lesson of the year, plus he now had to figure out a time to pop in and see Madam Pomfrey for a suspected cracked tooth. Clearly Hagrid's recipe still needed further improvement.

As Harry rounded the final corner leading to the Potions classroom he could see the door was firmly closed, indicating that Snape was already inside and had started the lesson.

"Shit," Harry swore under his breath as he approached the door, already envisioning how badly Snape was about to yell at him. He took a second to catch his breath before pushing the door open and slipping inside.

Inside, students were up out of their seats collecting ingredients from the store cupboard and Snape had his back to the door as he dramatically flourished his wand, generating the final instructions on the blackboard. Harry attempted to blend in with everyone else but he should have known Snape would undoubtedly have heard the door open.

"You are late, Mr. Potter," Snape snapped as he whirled around to glare at Harry.

"Sorry, sir. I was-"

"I didn't ask for your excuses, Potter. Detention tonight, seven o'clock."

"But Professor, I have quidditch prac-"

"Nor did I ask for your extra curricular schedule, Mr. Potter."

"But-," Harry stuttered.

"By all means continue to argue with me and you'll soon find yourself unable to attend your precious quidditch practices for the remainder of the month."

At that Harry snapped his mouth shut and grudgingly nodded his head.

"Seven o'clock," Snape reiterated. "Do not be late."

Again Harry simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak and he made his way over to his desk next to Ron to dump his bag so he could help collect the ingredients Snape had finished writing on the board which outlined a basic sleeping draught.

"Rotten luck," Ron whispered to him as he dropped their lavender springs and single flobberworm onto the desk with the rest of the ingredients he'd already grabbed. "Can you just grab the Asphodel petals, that's the last one we need, mate."

"Sure," Harry whispered back and quickly made his way to the store cupboard to grab the petals. When he returned, Ron was already preparing various ingredients and Harry couldn't be bothered to correct him when he noticed he was chopping the wormwood rather than crushing it.

Despite Ron's inspired interpretation of certain instructions, by the end of class they had a potion which, while it didn't appear as deeply purple as Hermione's, definitely had purple hue, and was most certainly more successful than Neville and Lavender's potion, which was a sickly shade of green and had begun smoking ominously.

Snape circled the classroom, glancing in cauldrons before coming to a stop over Neville and Lavender's potion, making a point to vanish it citing it a health hazard to anyone who happened to be in its vicinity, let alone should anyone have the misfortune to consume it. He spitefully announced their zero loudly so everyone could hear, at which point Neville looked terrified and Lavender as if she were about to burst into tears.

Snape was unmoved and announced their homework before dismissing the class. As everyone filed out Harry absentmindedly followed a few steps behind Ron and Hermione.

As they took their seats in Transfiguration, Ron was positively bouncing with how pleased he was with how their potion had gone.

"Really, mate if you hadn't gotten detention for being late I would say that was our least eventful potions class with the greasy git. Our potion turned out great!"

"Really Ron, you were supposed to crush the wormwood and keep the potion on a low heat while you stirred. I'm sure your potion would barely have forced Scabbers to take a nap let alone put an adult to sleep," Hermione said irritably.

"How the hell do you even notice stuff like 'Mione! Surely you were focused on your own potion," Ron exclaimed.

Harry found himself tuning out the bickering of his two best friends, he was used to it and besides he was a little more focused on how he was going to break the news to Oliver that he'd be unable to make their first training session of the year.

"It's basic observational skills, Ronald," Hermione muttered as Professor McGonagall entered the classroom briskly, putting a stop to their dispute as she demanded the attention of the students so she could begin.

***

Harry rapped his fist on the door to the Potions classroom three minutes early. He knew full well that his draconian Potions Master would decide that if Harry were to arrive a second later than the set time for his detention he would earn further punishment. “Enter,” came Snape’s distinct drawl almost immediately, and Harry took a deep breath to calm himself before he reluctantly pushed open the heavy oak door.

“Well, Potter,” Snape began as Harry stepped into the classroom, “it seems you do possess the ability to arrive somewhere on time when properly motivated. Perhaps you were hoping to make it to Gryffindor's Quidditch practice that I am aware is occurring later this evening." Harry could hear the challenge in his Professor’s voice and decided not to respond.

Snape did not seem to expect a reply, however, barely looking up from rifling through a stack of parchment on his desk as he gestured impatiently for Harry to approach and take a seat at the desk directly in front of him. Harry walked to the front of the classroom and sat down, placing his bag on the floor beside him, dreading whatever gruesome task he was sure to be set for the evening.

“Do you know why you’re here this evening, Potter?” Snape intoned in a bored voice, still intently focused on whatever was in front of him. Harry sighed and that finally seemed to get Snape’s attention.

His head snapped up, an ominous expression on his face. “Well?” he barked.

“Because you asked me to be here, Professor,” Harry countered.

Snape’s expression darkened and Harry gulped. He should just have said yes and allowed Snape to dole out his punishment so he could get on with it; the sooner he started the sooner he could leave and maybe make it to at least the end of practice. Why did he always have to challenge Snape, for god's sake. Why did he never learn?

“You think I have nothing better to do with my evening than spend it in the company of recalcitrant teenagers, Potter? Get up!” Harry jumped to his feet, seemingly without conscious thought, merely reacting to the demanding tone of Snape’s command. Snape was standing too now, the parchment on his desk forgotten as he stalked around his desk to stand face to face with Harry, now with only the table that Harry had been sitting at moments before between them.

“I’ve had enough of your attitude, Potter. Time after time you refuse to show me the proper respect awarded a member of staff at this institution.” Snape suddenly was no longer shouting, his voice was barely above a whisper, and Harry decided that that felt even more threatening. “Professor Dumbledore might find it appropriate to overlook the misdeeds of his Golden Boy, but I disagree. You’ve been shown far too much leniency for your unruly behaviour and flippant attitude ever since you set foot in this school. And I won’t allow it. Any. Longer.”

Snape punctuated each word by jerking closer to Harry’s face, his long black hair swaying with every movement. They were inches away from each other with Harry rooted to the spot, barely breathing. That was until Snape raised his hand to tuck the hair back out of his face. At this, Harry flinched violently and suddenly came to life, bolting for the door and was gone before Snape had even straightened back up.

Severus just stared. What in Merlin's name had just happened? Did the boy really think he could get out of his detention so easily?

The infuriating Gryffindor bravado the boy typically exhibited seemed to have abandoned him. He had no doubt he had often yelled at the boy in the same way and never elicited that type of flighty response. He returned to his desk and sat down heavily, thoroughly confused. Severus was both intrigued and annoyed. The latter due to the fact he was intrigued at all. But there was a niggle in the back of his mind. A certain look on the Golden Boy's face that he couldn't ignore.

Yes, the boy had looked scared. But it wasn't the recognisable scared look he saw on the face of every student that he yelled at; that look he was overly familiar with. No. Potter had looked positively terrified. Unwilling to decipher what any of that meant without a stiff drink in his hand, he stood. He glanced at the pile of marking on his desk, before ultimately deciding to abandon it for the night, sweeping out of his classroom and extinguishing the lights with a flick of his wand as he went.

He stalked a few steps deeper into the dungeons and came to a halt in front of a portrait of the founder of his house. Salazar sat on an ornate throne fiddling idly with a snake, letting it slither between his fingers. "Good day, Severus?" he asked in a lively tone, obviously aware it had been anything but by the look on his face. Severus merely grunted, he much preferred it when Salazar was residing in any other of his portraits around the castle and it was only the snake present. He didn't have to put up with inane questions then. He simply tapped the side of the frame twice with his wand and the portrait swung open and he stepped through.

***

Harry found himself sprinting through the passageways of the dungeons for the second time that day, although this time he was getting out. His footsteps echoed all around him as he attempted to put as much distance between himself and Snape as quickly as possible.

It wasn't until he leapt up the final staircase out of the dungeons and reached the entry hall that he finally let himself stop. A stitch was burning in his side as he doubled forward leaning his hands heavily on his knees and panting hard. He took a few deep breaths before straightening up and continuing at a more measured pace up towards Gryffindor tower.

As Harry stepped through the portrait hole, he glanced around the common room and spotted Hermione and Ron sat on the overstuffed sofa in front of the fire where they'd been when he left. He made a beeline for them and Hermione quickly noticed him as made his way closer.

"That was quick," she began suspiciously.

"Oh yeah.. well he had something else to do this evening, so he couldn't keep me that long," Harry invented.

"Harry, you've been gone twenty minutes, it basically takes that long just to walk there and back, so he didn't really keep you at all. Why did he not just do it another night or assign you to Filch or something?"

"I don't know Hermione, I didn't question it, can you just drop it please."

"Hm," was her only response allowing Ron to cut in "well are you going to go to quidditch practice instead then, you'll make it for at least the last half of it if you hurry."

Shit. Harry had totally forgotten he'd had practice that evening before he'd landed himself in detention.

"Uhhh no. I already told Oliver I couldn't make it and he yelled at me for not being able to behave myself on practice nights. Don't fancy listening to another lecture if I turn up halfway through. He said they're just going to work on chaser tactics so I'd probably just be flying around on my own anyway."

Harry slumped gratefully into the armchair opposite his two best friends that had been recently vacated and leant back and closed his eyes.

"Are you okay, Harry?" asked Hermione worriedly, leaning towards him. "You're looking a little...sweaty."

"I'm fine Hermione, honestly. What are you guys up to anyway, homework?"

"Yeah," Ron answered miserably. "We're working on Binns' essay on the medieval assembly of European wizards. Want to join in, I honestly don't know how I'm going to make this to three feet even using Hermione's notes. Maybe you got something extra down?"

"Sounds fun," Harry said sarcastically. "Let me just grab my..."

Damn. Harry froze as he realised exactly where he had left his school bag which had his History of Magic notes in. In the dungeons. On the floor of the potions classroom. God, how could he have been so stupid! He'd been trying his hardest not to think about what he'd just run away from, let alone the way Snape would react the next time he saw him. He did not fancy facing that right now. Or ever, if he could help it.

"...actually, I really can't be bothered to grab my bag right now, and I doubt I caught anything that Hermione didn't anyway. I'll just work on my poem on Lockhart's defeat of the Waka Waka Werewolf, I won't need any of my notes for that anyway. Can I just borrow a bit of parchment?"

"Actually Harry, it was the Wagga Wagga Werewolf so maybe you should actually use your notes," Hermione stated primly. However with an elbow from Ron she did hand over a spare bit of parchment and quill so he could get on with it.

Harry tried his best to focus on his poem, not wanting to dwell on the fact he needed to come up with a plan to retrieve his bag before tomorrow morning's classes. However, Lockhart's creative writing homework really wasn't the most effective distraction. "God, this really is the stupidest assignment," he huffed after only ten minutes. "Can anyone think of a word that rhymes with vanquished..?"

Chapter Text

A few hours later and Harry could barely keep his eyes open. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, the crackle of the fire and the warmth it was emitting making him feel comfortably warm and unwilling to shift from his spot. Cracking one eye open, he could see Ron had also given up on his chosen assignment and was trying to convince Neville to give up too and join him for a game of exploding snap. Hermione, of course, was still scribbling furiously away at her essay. Around them, the common room had begun to empty out as the evening wore on and the less dedicated students also gave up on their homework for the night.

Just as Harry had once again slipped into a doze, the portrait hole swung open noisily and the Gryffindor quidditch team stepped through looking thoroughly exhausted. That is, all except for Oliver Wood, their team captain, who looked as energetic as ever and who Harry could see was heading straight for him.

"I thought you couldn't make practice because you had detention, Potter, not that you needed to take a nap in front of the fire?" said Oliver, slightly disparagingly.

"I did have detention, Oliver! I promise," Harry exclaimed, now fully awake again and jumping up from his armchair. "I just assumed there wouldn't be much point in me joining for just the end, that's all," he finished lamely.

"Well, next time you can assume we'll want you present for every minute you can make, Potter. And hopefully that means the entire practice if you can manage to stay out of trouble long enough so that you can attend. Our first match is coming up soon and we need you in top form. Understood?"

Harry's insides were squirming with guilt at having disappointed his captain. "Yes, Oliver. I'm sorry, I'll be there next time, I promise."

"Hm, see that you are," was all Oliver replied as he stalked off, presumably towards the showers.

Harry flopped back down into his seat letting out a big breath. "Don't mind him, Harry," George said as he and Fred shuffled on over towards him. "You know what Oliver's like at the start of the year. Can't seem to get his knickers untwisted."

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione exclaimed at George's crude image, at the same time as Ron complained "hey!" loudly as Fred dropped himself directly down onto Ron's lap.

"Oh sorry, little brother. Didn't see you there," Fred muttered tiredly, as Ron gave him an almighty shove to the side. "Right, of course you didn't," breathed Ron, but even he could see how uncharacteristically subdued the twins were so didn't push the issue further.

"Looks like you dodged a bullet missing practice, Harry," Ron continued.

"Oh you have no idea," the twins intoned in unison.

"Yeah, well I'd still rather have gone than been stuck in detention with Snape," muttered Harry.

"Harry, you were hardly stuck in detention you were only there for-"

"Alright Hermione!" Harry snapped. "I get it, you don't have to keep on about it, okay? I'm tired anyway, I think I'm going to head to bed. Night, guys."

With that, Harry grabbed his disastrous but completed Defense poem from the table in front of him and made his way towards the second year dormitory. Behind him he could hear Ron's chastising tone directed at Hermione but he couldn't be bothered to work out what was being said.

Hurriedly, he changed into his pajamas and slid into bed making sure to pull shut the hangings around his bed so his dormmates would know not to disturb him when they came in. Not five minutes later, Harry heard Neville and Ron enter the room and silently prayed they wouldn't attempt to speak to him.

As he lay there, Harry took stock of his emotions. He was feeling embarrassed about being chewed out by Oliver in front of his housemates. Even though the common room had been on the empty side it was still mortifying that others had witnessed it. Not to mention he was still feeling more than a little anxious about his situation with Snape and clueless as to how he was going to retrieve his bag.

"Harry, mate. She's really sorry. She didn't mean to upset you or anything," Ron's voice drifted through his hangings.

Harry sighed deeply. "I know, it's okay. I didn't mean to snap at her, I was just embarrassed about Oliver basically telling me off in front of everyone. I'll tell her in the morning I'm sorry too."

"Are you sure that's all it is, Harry, are you sure nothing happened in detention? You can tell me y'know."

"Yes, Ron, I'm sure. Now I really am tired. Goodnight."

***

Whilst Harry and his dormmates slipped into unconsciousness, far below in the depths of the castle, Severus Snape was far from falling asleep. A tumbler of white vermouth in one hand and potion periodical in the other, he tried resolutely to concentrate on the words in front of him.

As a highly disciplined man, Severus rarely had trouble focusing when he needed to. However this particular article on the flavour development of Skele-gro was not keeping his attention. A totally superfluous development when it wasn't improving the function of the potion in the slightest, he thought to himself. With a huff, he tossed the journal onto the low table in front of him with half a mind to send a missive to the editors berating them for time-wasting.

Draining the remaining liquid in his tumbler, Severus finally allowed his mind to wander to the topic he'd been studiously avoiding for the majority of the evening. What on earth was he going to do about Potter? His curiosity was sufficiently peaked that he could not merely overlook what he had witnessed. But apart from outright demanding Potter explain his actions exhibited in the Potions classroom, Severus didn't have the faintest idea how to go about extracting any answers from the boy. The relationship between the two of them was antagonistic at best, not exactly conducive to building anything like trust between the two of them. And it wasn't exactly like he cared about the impudent child, it was simply within his duties as a professor to investigate any suspicious behaviour.

Part of Severus was mildly annoyed he was spending the remainder of his student-free evening contemplating his most aggravating student, however he could not help nor dismiss his feelings of concern. He had never raised his hands to any student; Potter had no reason to fear him that way. What he had observed was undoubtedly a conditioned response however. Someone had instilled that fear in the boy, he was almost certain.

A fear he was all too familiar with himself.

***

Harry was startled awake by the morning sunlight streaming across his face.

"Hey!" he complained, as he shielded his eyes immediately before squinting over at the blurry vision of Ron standing next to his bed with what looked like a fistful of Harry's bed hangings in his hand.

"C'mon Harry, we've got to get down to breakfast now or there'll be nothing left," he stated matter of factly as he thrust Harry's glasses into his hands.

"Well I think that's everyone else's worry when you get there first, Ron," grumbled Harry as he placed his glasses on his face.

"Not sure what you mean, mate," Ron countered easily, "I'll meet you in the common room in five, okay? Everyone's waiting."

Harry groaned and flopped back down onto his pillows as Ron stepped out of the dormitory. Since when was Ron hounding him out of bed rather than the other way around, he thought to himself. Unwilling to risk Ron coming back in and pulling him physically up, Harry eventually swung his legs out of bed and started rifling around underneath it for his uniform.

Fully dressed in a matter of minutes, Harry absentmindedly reached an arm out to grab his bag that usually hung from a peg attached to the end of his bed. As his hands closed around empty air his stomach felt like it plummeted right into his shoes as the events of last night's detention came crashing back.

"Oh shit," he moaned as he dropped his head into his hands. How had he already forgotten?! There was not enough time to get all the way down to the Potions classroom before breakfast or even afterwards before his first class. He'd have to manage his first few lessons of the day without his things and see if he could sneak into the classroom during morning break. Harry just hoped Snape hadn't noticed his bag and it would still be where he'd left it; he didn't have the nerve to contemplate any alternative right now.

Pocketing his wand he strode hurriedly out of the dormitory and down the staircase leading to the common room. He was determined to appear calm and composed; a complete contrast to how he was actually feeling.

***

Spotting his friends waiting for him near the portrait hole, Harry made his way over to them. Usually he appreciated that a group of them had kept up the routine of going down to breakfast together every morning, but right now he didn't feel like socialising with anyone.

"Thanks for waiting, guys," he muttered, flushing slightly.

"Right, here he is, let's go. I'm starving," Ron announced.

"Of course you are, Ronald. When are you not?" Hermione sighed as she pulled open the portrait hole and allowed Dean, Seamus and Neville to step through first, followed by an impatient looking Ron with Harry bringing up the rear.

As the four boys charged ahead down the corridor, jostling each other as they went, Hermione hung back with Harry.

An awkward silence hung between them for a couple of minutes until Hermione finally spoke up. "Listen Harry, I am so sorry that you felt I was nagging you last night, I really didn't mean-"

"No Hermione, really it's fine, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that either so really I'm the one who should be apologising. I know you're only looking out for me," Harry admitted.

"Oh, I'm so glad you can see that," Hermione exhaled as she linked her arm with Harry's, all feeling of awkwardness between them dissipated. "You were acting so strangely when you came back last night, and even now you still don't seem quite yourself. I'm just worried that's all."

"I'm fine, 'Mione, really," he sighed.

"I really wish you'd stop using that word Harry, I'm not sure you actually know what it means. You never seem fine when you say it."

Harry chose not to respond to that and was thankfully saved by Seamus, who at that exact moment had given Dean an almighty shove into a trophy cabinet standing to the side of the corridor, its contents giving an ominous rattle in protest.

"Boys!" Hermione squealed, dragging Harry along to reach the group up ahead. Ron lent Dean an arm to haul him off the floor where he'd fallen as Seamus looked sheepishly on.

"You don't want to get in trouble before we've even made it down to breakfast!" she exclaimed. "You're just lucky no teachers or prefects are around or you'd definitely have lost us points. Come on, we're nearly there, just behave for five more minutes, honestly."

The group hurried along the last few corridors before arriving at the wide, marble staircase of the Entrance Hall. The doors to the Great Hall were wide open and the drone of hundreds of voices could now be heard as breakfast was in full swing.

They all hurried towards the Gryffindor table and took seats across from each other about halfway along. Ron, Dean and Seamus wasted no time piling their plates with sausage, bacon, and eggs. Hermione showed more restraint, opting for porridge with blueberries and a drizzle of honey, whilst Neville chose beans on toast.

Harry, however, only poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice and started to sip it slowly as he observed the food in front of him, trying to decide if he could stomach any of it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione desperate to say something about his lack of adequate breakfast.

Trying to appear nonchalant despite his churning stomach, he reached out and grabbed a single piece of toast. Beside him Hermione nudged the butter dish towards him. He turned to glare at her but she had already turned away and was making conversation with Neville about their upcoming Charms assignment.

As they'd arrived quite a bit later than normal, the young Gryffindors didn't have much time to sit and enjoy their breakfast, which suited Harry just fine. As they all got up to make their way to their first class of the morning, Transfiguration, Hermione turned back to Harry.

"Don't forget your bag, Harry." She gesticulated towards where he'd been sitting for breakfast, where she assumed his bag would be.

Harry froze, "..uh I actually left it in the dorm, I was in such a rush this morning and left it behind. I'll just have to grab it during break. You wouldn't mind lending me parchment and quill for Transfiguration and Charms, would you?"

Hermione gave him an odd look, "...of course not. But you have your wand with you don't you?"

"Of course I do! You know I don't go anywhere without it."

Hermione looked like she had more to say, but she kept it to herself as she turned back to continue out of the Great Hall along with the others.

***

Professor McGonagall harrumphed when she noticed Harry was sharing Hermione's textbook. "I expect to see you fully prepared in my next class, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied meekly, as the beetle he was supposed to be transfiguring into a button seemed to sense his distraction and scuttled towards the edge of the desk in a bid for freedom.

Frustrated, Harry grabbed it roughly. "Be careful, Harry, you'll squish it!" hissed Hermione.

"Well then at least then it would act more like a button and not bloody move," he grumpily replied, glancing over at the perfect flat button Hermione held in her hand. He looked over at Ron, who was only slightly more successful as his button definitely still had its beetle legs.

Harry hoped he'd be more successful in Charms, but when Professor Flitwick announced they'd be learning and practising the Tickling Charm he instantly knew this lesson would be equally disastrous. He was definitely not in the mood for this.

The half hearted attempts he tried were, unsurprisingly, unsuccessful. Although Ron seemed unusually proficient at the charm and Harry found himself falling to his knees with laughter a number of times.

The nearer it got to break time the more agitated Harry felt, and the worse he got at hiding it if the looks his best friends kept throwing his way were anything to go by.

Before he knew it, Professor Flitwick was announcing their homework assignment and bidding them good day as he dismissed them.

"Right" Harry began as the trio exited the classroom, "I better go and grab my bag. Don't bother waiting for me, I'll just meet you outside Defense?"

"Okay.." Hermione started but Harry was already walking away from them down the corridor and disappeared around the corner before she finished agreeing.

"Something is up with him," Hermione exhaled. "Will you see if you can get it out of him, Ron?"

"Me!? What makes you think he'll tell me and not you, 'Mione? I already asked him last night," said Ron.

"I'm starting to get worried, Ron. Something is definitely up. Plus he's definitely gone the wrong way back to the Tower."

***

As most people were heading out to the courtyard or down towards the lake to enjoy the last fair weather of the year, Harry once again made his way into the depths of the castle. The temperature dropped a few degrees as he descended and he wrapped his arms around himself to try and maintain warmth.

He felt so pathetic that he was this anxious that he might encounter Snape in the classroom. He was a Gryffindor for goodness sake, he was supposed to be brave! But however much his brain was adamant he wasn't anxious, his body didn’t seem to be listening.

Before he knew it he found himself outside of the classroom, the door was closed and there didn't seem to be anyone else around.

He briefly contemplated entering without knocking as he didn't want to lure Snape from his office with his bat-like hearing, but he ultimately decided if Snape was in the classroom and Harry didn't knock he'd add to his problems.

Rapping his knuckles on the oak door, he waited, holding his breath, and straining to hear any sound coming from inside the room. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart and so after about ten seconds he tentatively pushed open the heavy door.

Peering around it, Harry could see the classroom was empty. He couldn't believe his luck.

He stepped forward to the front of the classroom, stopping at the desk he had sat in for his fleeting detention. His bag definitely wasn't where he'd left it last night. Glancing around desperately, he scanned the other rows of desks to see if it had been moved.

"Mr. Potter," came a sickeningly familiar drawl from behind him.

Harry whirled around in horror to see Snape step out of the student store cupboard.

"You are aware that students are not permitted to enter my classroom without explicit permission from a member of staff, namely me. I find myself unsurprised that you believe yourself to be exempt from this rule."

Harry stood frozen, unsure if Snape expected a response from him, his heart beating furiously.

"You will sit, Potter," Snape gestured to the desk Harry had fled from not eighteen hours earlier, "and we will resume our discussion from last night as well as address this latest infringement."

Chapter Text

Harry's eyes darted back towards the door, the sole exit from the classroom.

"Do not even think about it, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, sounding bored. "You may be Gryffindor's star seeker but you are not quicker than my wand reflexes. I could have that door locked before you so much as twitch in its direction."

"You can't do that," Harry whispered, staring at his feet.

"I think you'll find I can, Mr. Potter, but I would not suggest testing me. Now sit. I will not ask you a third time."

Harry dragged his feet along the stone floor towards his abandoned desk. As soon as he sat down, Snape followed suit and took a seat at his desk facing Harry.

"Do you have my bag, sir?" Harry asked bravely.

"We will get to that. Firstly, we need to discuss-"

"Just, I can't be late for my next less-"

"Potter!" Snape exclaimed.

Harry flinched ever so slightly, a response which did not go unnoticed by the Potions Master, and stared resolutely down at the desk in front of him, the grain of its wood suddenly holding his interest.

"Do not interrupt me again, is that clear?"

Harry nodded, eyes still glued downwards.

"Use your words, Potter. And look at me while I'm talking to you."

"Yes, sir, it's clear," Harry breathed, looking up slowly and fixing his gaze somewhere over his teacher's right shoulder.

"Students are forbidden to enter my classroom without my say so for a reason, Potter. You cannot strut about everywhere in this castle as if you own it. If you do not have express permission to enter my classroom you. Do. Not. Enter. Yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"For this latest disregard of my classroom rules you will serve detention with Mr. Filch on Wednesday evening. I will let him know to expect you at seven in his office."

Harry nodded again, before responding with a quick "yes sir" at Snape's pointed glare.

"Now, you have not sufficiently served the detention you earned yesterday for your tardiness. Hence I have scheduled your detention with Mr. Filch for Wednesday so you are available to return this evening to serve out the rest of it to my satisfaction."

Harry's eyes widened but he wasn't all that surprised. It wasn't like Snape was gonna let him get away with running out on a punishment.

"A detention every night on the first three days of the school year, not a very auspicious start, Mr. Potter. I dare say your Head of House will want an explanation."

Harry hung his head. He hated disappointing Professor McGonagall. She had such high expectations for her Gryffindors and he always tried his best to meet them, but somehow he always found himself in trouble.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Snape opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out Harry's bag which he then deposited in front of Harry, who exhaled gladly. "You will serve it in my office this time, seven this evening. You are dismissed, Potter."

At that, Harry grabbed his bag and scrambled to his feet. A brisk walk had him pulling open the classroom door in no time and he closed it behind him with a soft thud.

His classroom empty once more, Severus slumped ever so slightly in his chair. That hadn't been completely disastrous, he thought to himself. Tonight he would ensure he got some answers from the boy. The slight flinch he'd observed when he'd raised his voice had only deepened his suspicions; he could not allow them to go un-investigated.

***

Harry hurried out of the dungeons and with a brief glance at his watch was relieved to discover he had enough time before Defense to make it back to his dormitory to switch out his textbooks.

Slightly breathless and with seconds to spare, Harry slipped inside the Defense classroom, a lesson that the second year Gryffindors shared with Hufflepuff. Noticing that Ron had left a spare seat next to him, he made his way over, smiling gratefully at his friend as he sat down.

"Glad you could join us, Harry," Ron quipped. Harry just gave him a playful nudge with his elbow, amazed at how much his mood had improved after his chat with Snape. What a strange prospect. He thought it had a lot to do with the fact that the uncertainty he'd felt at how his teacher would react was gone. He was awfully surprised at Snape's leniency, he'd barely even shouted at him...

Before Harry could consider the matter further, Professor Lockhart appeared at the top of the stairs leading from his office down to the classroom. "Good morning, children!" he sang. A grumbling of "good morning, Professor," was his only response.

"Now, now, children, that just won't do. We went over this in our first lesson. Let's have another go, shall we? Good morning, children!" he repeated.

"Good morning, Professor," intoned the class with only slightly more enthusiasm.

"There, much better," Professor Lockhart grinned, "shall we get started then? I hope you all remembered that I instructed you to bring 'Travel with Trolls' by me, Gilderoy Lockhart, to this lesson. If you would be so kind as to get them out and open to the first chapter I have a truly fascinating tale to tell you. Now, trolls are incredibly violent and aggressive as well as being extremely unpredictable beasts, it takes an incredibly powerful wizard to subdue one," Lockhart's chest puffed up at his words." There are four known types of trolls with the mountain troll being the largest and most violent of them all, which happens to be one that I-"

"Harry and Ron defeated a mountain troll last year!" Seamus suddenly piped up.

"Yeah, knocked it clean out, totally awesome," Dean announced.

"Ah yes, I did hear about that incident," Professor Lockhart sounded slightly miffed at having been interrupted. He looked over at Harry and Ron, "quite the valiant effort, boys. Although I did hear quite a spot of luck was involved." Both Dean and Seamus opened their mouths to argue that distinction but Lockhart silenced them with a wave of his hand.

"Right, where was I? Oh yes, the mountain troll! Up to twelve feet tall and astonishingly strong, I received word that a tiny village in Eastern Scandinavia was being assailed by such a creature. I knew they required my expertise and so I gallantly made the trip."

"Did he just describe his own actions as gallant?" Ron whispered to Harry, "this guy's ego is next level."

"Shh," insisted Hermione, from across the aisle, her eyes not even leaving Professor Lockhart's face. Ron glared at her, appalled that she seemed to be hanging onto their Professor's every word.

"Can you believe her?" muttered Ron, "thought she was meant to be the intelligent one, can't she tell he's having us on?" Harry shrugged. Looking around it did seem like the majority of the class were following Professor Lockhart's story with a great deal of skepticism, only a few, mainly girls, seemed entranced.

Professor Lockhart was practically putting on a performance by the end as he cited from memory quotations from the overwhelmed and relieved villagers. Which, incidentally, was exactly what he expected of his students.

"Now children, if you would arrange yourself into groups of no more than six you can begin preparing your very own production of 'Gilderoy Lockhart's Travels with Trolls, Adventures in Eastern Scandinavia.'"

"He has got to be joking," Ron declared, barely able to contain his voice to a whisper. There were a few sniggers but Professor Lockhart's beaming smile did not falter.

"Everybody up, come on! Let's get those desks moved out of the way. Organise yourselves, or I will do it at random."

That seemed to get the students moving, as most scrambled to their feet to reach their friends.

"I don't think I can face being in a group with Hermione," Ron groaned as he got to his feet reluctantly.

"I heard that, Ronald."

"You were supposed to, 'Mione. I do not get your obsession with the git."

"Ron! You can't call a professor that! And I'm not obsessed, I'm just interested. You should try it sometime, you might learn something."

Ron looked extremely put out at that, but Harry dragged him over to the clearing that Dean, Neville and Seamus had created.

"Right, we should decide on parts first," Hermione immediately took charge. "Ron can be the troll."

"Ghee, thanks Hermione."

She just smiled primly at him. "Harry, I think you'd make a dashing Professor Lockhart."

"This is just so weird," Ron complained, "who knew it could get worse than the poems."

"Oh yes! Your poetry assignment, thank you for reminding me, Mr. Weasley. I do believe I forgot to mention when I assigned them yesterday that you will need to perform them in front of the class when they are due on Friday. Consider it a little warm up performance before these productions the following week. Ron looked positively outraged and sulked for the remainder of the lesson, coincidentally making for an excellent troll.

***

After Professor Lockhart had spent so long performing his own monologue, there was barely any time left for the students to make a start on their own performance. Dean and Seamus were still arguing over who got to be Villager 1 over Villager 2 by the time Professor Lockhart announced the lesson over and dismissed them, reiterating that he was very much looking forward to their Friday performances as they all filed out.

The second year Gryffindors parted ways with the Hufflepuffs in the Entrance Hall, Harry and his housemates making their way outside to the greenhouses for Herbology while the Hufflepuffs descended into the dungeons.

As the Gryffindors made their way down the lawn, they could see that the second year Slytherins were already gathered outside Greenhouse 3.

"Oh, here we go," Ron sighed, looking glum, "can't believe we have Herbology with them too this year, isn't Potions enough?"

Harry had somehow managed to avoid encountering Draco Malfoy without a teacher present since the start of the school year. He was not looking forward to that coming to an end now.

"Potter," Draco called when he saw the Gryffindors had arrived, "have a good summer with your muggles?"

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry said forcefully, taking a few steps closer. How dare he make fun of his home life, he had no idea what it was like. None.

Ron grabbed his arm to stop his advancement, "don't let him get to you, mate." Draco just grinned maliciously.

Professor Sprout made a timely appearance then, opening the door to the greenhouse and ushering them all inside.

***

Despite Draco's taunting, the rest of Herbology thankfully passed without incident. After being dismissed, the second years raced towards the Great Hall for lunch. Harry had regained some of his appetite and he could almost physically sense Hermione's relief when he ate his entire serving of chicken pie, which made him feel more than a little embarrassed.
The trio headed down towards the lake and sat cross legged on the grass nearby for the rest of their lunch hour. Quite a few other people had had the same idea as the weather was still unusually mild.

"We should really get a start on Professor Lockhart's performance tonight," Hermione stated almost as soon as they'd sat down. "I'll speak to the other boys and see if I can find an empty classroom we can use after dinner."

"It's not due 'til next week, Hermione," Ron said exasperatedly.

"It's not the kind of thing you can pull together the night before, Ronald! We need to prepare it and practise it, it's got to be perfect. I knew it would be a nightmare being in a group project with you."

"Hey! I was the one who said I didn't want to be with you! What do you think Harry, surely you don't think we need to get started on it tonight? Tell her she's bonkers."

"..well actually, I can't do tonight. I have detention," Harry admitted miserably.

"What! With who? Since when? What did you do, Harry?!" Hermione questioned in quick succession.

"I didn't do anything," Harry said defensively. "Snape just rearranged my detention that I was supposed to have yesterday to this evening."

"That's not what you said last night, Harry. You just said he'd let you go, not that he'd rearranged."

"Yeah well, I guess he changed his mind, so tonight it is."

"Hm, well that doesn't seem very fair."

"Since when has Snape been fair, Hermione?" countered Ron. "You could always tell McGonagall though, mate, maybe she'd help."

"Ah, no I don't think I will, it's fine honestly."

"Okay well if we can't do tonight then we should definitely get started tomorrow evening. You don't have quidditch practice do you?"

"No I don't, but um, I do have detention with Filch."

"What!" both Hermione and Ron exclaimed this time.

"Honestly Harry, I don't understand how you've had all this time to get detention. Three days in a row and it's only the third day of term!"

Harry couldn't think of a response, not without telling them the entire truth. He'd started yanking blades of grass out of the ground and pulling them apart. He couldn't look at either of his friends, he felt so ashamed as well as guilty that he hadn't told them everything.

"I feel like there's something you're not telling us, Harry," Hermione said softly.

Harry stopped shredding the grass but he still didn't respond.

"I don't think you went back to the Tower this morning to get your bag, you went in the complete opposite direction," she continued gently, when it didn't seem like Harry was going to say anything. "I also think you overreacted more than you usually do to Malfoy's taunting, it was a pretty mild comment for him and Ron practically had to hold you back. Something is obviously bothering you, Harry. Please just tell us so we can help you."

Harry sighed, glancing up at both of his friends he could see the concern on their face and he felt horribly guilty. "You're right, Hermione, of course you are. About my bag at least. I'm sorry I lied to you guys, I don't know why I did, really. I just didn't want to talk about it. But basically I left it in the Potions classroom after my detention yesterday, so I went back down today to get it and Snape caught me and said I had to repeat my detention tonight plus he gave me one with Filch for sneaking into the Potions classroom without permission."

"But why do you have to repeat your detention?" Ron questioned.

"Um well, so I know I said Snape just let me go because he had things to do, but really I just left."

"But why, Harry? Why did you leave?"

"Uhh.. he scared me okay. It was stupid but he was shouting and suddenly I was so scared and I just had to get out of there. So I ran."

The trio sat in silence as they absorbed Harry's words. Harry couldn't believe he'd actually told them all of that, but he did feel better that neither of them were laughing at him. Not that he thought they would have but he felt better all the same.

"So what did he say when he caught you in the classroom today? Was he really awful? I really think you should go and see Professor McGonogall, he shouldn't be allowed to scare you like that, Harry. How can you be expected to be alone with him for a whole detention now?"

"Merlin, Hermione, one question at a time," Ron said

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm just really concerned. I'll come with you to speak to her if you want."

"No, no, honestly it's fine," Harry shook his head vigorously. "Like I said, it was me. I was just being stupid, he wasn't any different than he usually is. I just freaked out for a second. He was actually weirdly nice when he caught me today, well, maybe not nice but he didn't really yell at me or threaten me in any way so I guess nice for Snape."

"Only if you're sure?"

"I am. I was fine with him earlier. After I got over the shock of him appearing when I thought the classroom was empty anyway. But thank you for offering."

"Okay, well what about what Malfoy said then? He wasn't particularly nasty but I hate to think what might have happened if Ron or someone hadn't been there to stop you. He's said much worse before, it's just not like you to react that way."

Harry paused for a split second. "..I don't know, Hermione. I think I'm just tired of him saying whatever he wants and never getting in trouble for it. I don't know what I was going to do if I'm honest, but thanks for stopping me, Ron."

"No problemo, mate. He's not worth it. Especially when you have three detentions on the trot already, hey," he grinned playfully at Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically, but he was smiling now too.

"Well if you're sure, Harry. We're always here for you, you know that," Hermione squeezed his knee. "We want to help or just to listen when you want to talk. Don't keep it inside, okay?"

"Okay."

"Right then, we should probably head inside for History of Magic," said Hermione, getting to her feet.

"Yeah, we can't risk being late for Binns, he might actually notice something for once and then we'd risk your fourth night of detention, Harry." Ron also got to his feet and offered a hand out to Harry who brushed all the shredded bits of grass off of his lap before accepting Ron's hand and being pulled to his feet.

"Yeah but I'm not sure he would notice. He never saw Seamus climbing out the window during that awfully boring lecture on the Gargoyle Strike of 1912."

"1911, actually," Hermione corrected.

"Oh man, I'd forgotten about that. Classic Seamus," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Riiight, well, you get the point though. That wasn't even a ground floor classroom. He landed with such a thud and Binns didn't even blink. I don't think he'd notice us sneaking in quietly.”

"Well I'm not risking it so I'm going," Hermione turned and started walking briskly away.

"Wait 'Mione, we're coming!"

As the boys hurried after Hermione and back up towards the castle for their final lesson of the day Harry still couldn't shake the guilty feeling that he still hadn't told them everything.

Chapter Text

Harry had huge difficulty focusing during History of Magic, which wasn't exactly a change from the norm but after the hour was up and Binns had dismissed them he felt a strange sense of foreboding that the lesson was over; only dinner stood between him and Snape's detention now. As the Gryffindors made their way to the Tower to relax before dinner, Harry did his best to tune out his friends' bickering, but as usual it proved futile.

"...just let me borrow them, please, 'Mione?"

"No, Ron. Were you even paying attention at all?" Hermione said.

"Nobody pays attention in History of Magic! Well, apart from you, because you're so brilliant."

"Flattery will not convince me to give you my notes, maybe try reading your textbook if you didn't catch everything, Ronald. That's what it's for."

Ron huffed as they rounded the final corridor leading to the Tower. Hermione glanced over at Harry on her other side.

"You're awfully quiet, Harry. Are you feeling okay?"

"No, I'm- yeah, sort of. Just feeling weird about my detention with Snape later."

"Weird?"

"Yeah I dunno, just kind of jittery about it, like I can't relax, it's weird."

"Hmm, well maybe starting Professor Binns' essay will relax you, take your mind off it for a while."

"Hermione, no offense, but sometimes I think there might actually be something clinically wrong with you. How on earth would doing a History of Magic essay relax anyone?" Ron said in disbelief.

"By taking his mind off it, Ronald! There's no point in him sitting and worrying about it when there's nothing he can do about it. He may as well make a start on a productive distraction."

"He is right here, thank you. And I'm with Ron on this one Hermione, I'm not sure I'd be able to focus properly on schoolwork. Fancy a game of chess, Ron?"

"Oh you bet, mate. But I'm not going on easy on you just because you're anxious for your detention."

"I'm not anxious. Just a bit restless or something."

"Whatever you wanna call it, Harry," Ron said as they stepped through the portrait hole. "You grab a sofa, I'll grab my set."

"Not sure how you two ever hand in any homework on time," Hermione muttered as she and Harry made their way over to a plush sofa. "You're always playing games or prioritising Quidditch."

"It is only the second day of term, Hermione, we don't have that much homework yet. Anyway, I haven't seen you guys all summer, I just want to spend some time with you doing something fun when I haven't–"

"When you haven't what, Harry?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "I just missed everyone over the summer. I can't believe we weren't allowed to visit each other. I asked Dumbledore and everything before we left last year but he said it wouldn't be possible."

"Did he say why?" Hermione questioned, as Ron plonked himself on the sofa across from Harry and Hermione and started laying out the board and pieces.

"Why what?" Ron said.

"Why did Professor Dumbledore refuse to let Harry visit either of us over the summer."

"Oh yeah, I bugged Mum loads asking if you could come over and stay for a bit but she said Dumbledore said it wasn't a good idea."

"No, he didn't tell me why," Harry said, sounding annoyed. "I hate it. I hate being stuck with the stupid Dursleys. I hate that Dumbledore won't even tell me why I have to stay with them."

"Oh Harry, they can't be that bad."

"Yes they can, Hermione. They don't want me there," Harry said flatly. "You don't know what it's like to live in a house where no one wants you around. It's awful. And–," he snapped his mouth shut before he said any more.

"And what?"

"Nothing. Doesn't matter. Just, you don't how- how lucky you are to have a family who loves you."

"Oh Harry, you do have a family who loves you," Hermione implored. "We love you. We'll always be here for you. That makes us family, right?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled briefly, as he nudged a pawn forward. "Yeah, sorry I didn't mean to say it like that. Of course you guys are my family. My chosen family. I just wish I could stay with you when we're not here." Harry's leg was bouncing up and down and Hermione squeezed it sympathetically to still him.

"You know my parents would have you in a heartbeat if Dumbledore would let them," Ron said, poking his own pawn into action. "They're desperate to meet you properly, hopefully at Christmas Dumbledore will let you visit."

"Yeah, I'd really like that. Your mum was so nice to me that time at King's Cross. And your parents picked up all my new books and school things from Diagon Alley when I wasn't allowed to go. I've never had anyone, grown ups anyway, look out for me like that."

The trio sat in silence as they watched Ron's knight obliterate one of Harry's bishops, absorbing Harry’s words, grateful for the distraction. Harry's pieces all sighed mournfully.

"Pay attention would you," squeaked one of his pawns.

"God, sorry," Harry couldn't believe he was being chastised by a chess piece. "Move to C6 then."

"No, he'll get me!" the pawn gestured angrily at Ron's other knight.

Harry couldn't believe he was now arguing with his pawn, he drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa impatiently. "Okay fine, bishop to A6." But his bishop resolutely shook his head, refusing to move.

"Fine, I give up!" Harry threw his hands up and slumped back in his seat. "I hate wizard's chess."

"Maybe you could make a start on one of your essays instead," Hermione commented mildly.

"Uhh, no I don't think so. I think I'll go and check on Hedwig in the Owlery actually," Harry said, getting to his feet. "See how she's settling back in. I'll just meet you guys at dinner, rather than coming all the way back here."

"Yeah, okay, see you then," Hermione said as Harry collected his things up and ran up the staircase to his dormitory to throw them on his bed quickly. As both Hermione and Ron watched Harry walk back across the common room and exit through the portrait hole, it was Hermione's turn to slump in defeat.

"There's definitely more he's not telling us," she said worriedly. "I wonder if there's more going on at his relative's house than he's willing to say. He keeps not finishing his sentences, like he has more to say but doesn't quite have the nerve. I knew he didn't particularly like them, he made that clear last year, but now I get the feeling it's something more than just disliking them."

"What are you saying, 'Mione? You can't think they–," Ron paused.

"They what?"

"You think they hurt him or something?" Ron finished.

"I don't know, Ron. I really hope not. But it's definitely something bad. It sounds like they've never done anything for him. They probably never even took him to the doctors when he was sick. I just wish he would talk to us. I'd like to think he'd tell us if it was really bad, but I just don't know anymore. He hates asking for help."

"Do you think we should tell someone? McGonagall?" Ron said.

"I don't know," Hermione said miserably. "If it is nothing that serious we know he'll hate that we got a teacher involved. But I just don't know how else we can help him."

"Well, maybe we can try and get some more answers out of him first. Be more sure. And if it does seem like something more is happening, we'll tell someone."

"You're a good friend, Ronald," Hermione said. "But I never thought I'd hear you suggesting we tell a teacher."

Ron blushed slightly at the compliment. "Hey, where Harry is concerned we can't risk it. Especially after last year and especially when he could be practically locked up with those muggles for loads more summers."

"Okay, we'll see if we can get anything more out of him and if we're still concerned we'll speak to Professor McGonagall?"

"Yeah, I think we'll have to 'Mione, if we're right that is. I just pray to Merlin we're not."

***

Harry wandered absentmindedly along the long corridors leading up towards the owlery. Most students were relaxing in their common rooms before dinner so he didn't encounter anyone else. He still couldn't shake that jittery feeling, or anxiety as Ron had called it. Now that he'd moved on from worrying about how Snape would react he had moved onto worrying about what exactly Snape would have him do during detention. He had mentioned something about a discussion but that couldn't be all.

Still lost in thought, Harry ascended the twisting owlery steps, the light breeze from all the open windows ruffling his hair gently. It wasn't until he'd climbed the last step and stepped onto the straw floor covered in owl droppings and scattered with the skeletons of unfortunate mice that he heard voices.

Harry's head snapped up and to his horror there stood Malfoy, flanked, as always, by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Oh shit," breathed Harry as he watched Malfoy turn towards him at the sound of his arrival, a large, brown Eagle Owl perched on his arm.

"Potter," Draco said, a troubling smirk on his face. "Alone, are we? I thought you didn't go anywhere without the Know It All and the Weasel."

"Yeah, well I'm not afraid to be without them at all times, Malfoy. I can't say the same for your shadows."

"Are you calling me a coward?" demanded Draco.

"Something like that," Harry muttered, mainly to himself, but as Malfoy was not all that far away he heard it.

"Careful, Potter," Draco said tightly, taking a step towards Harry. "There's no one else up here right now. No one to come and help Precious Potter."

"Don't call me that, Malfoy," Harry snapped.

"Oh, I think I'll call you whatever I like, Princess Potter. Who's going to stop me? You?" Draco scoffed, and his Eagle Owl suddenly launched itself off his arm, causing Harry to flinch slightly. It settled in one of the lower rafters hooting ominously.

Draco was now only a few paces away from Harry, with Crabbe and Goyle standing just behind each of his shoulders. Maybe now Harry would say he was feeling anxious. Or maybe even scared.

"Nothing to say, Potter? Well maybe you could tell me about your summer then. You never did answer my question earlier after I asked so politely. The muggles must have been so pleased to see after you didn't go home during any of the holidays last year. You can't like living with them all that much. Or maybe it's them who don't want you around?"

"Shut it, Malfoy," it was Harry's turn to take a step forward now. "You don't know anything about me."

"Oh, on the contrary, Potter. I know quite an awful lot about you. All learned against my will of course. But I do think we've touched a nerve here, boys," he glanced back at Crabbe and Goyle. "No Weasel to hold you back here, Potty. So why don't you finish what you started earlier."

"Three against one, Malfoy?" Harry said, trying his best to keep his voice steady. "Not very fair odds."

"Fair? Such a Gryffindor sentiment, Potter. We Slytherins care little for your fairness. You're either devious and cunning enough to win, no matter the odds, or you're not."

"I'm not going to fight you, Malfoy," Harry said trying to appear casual, but really he was poised to make a run for it back down the staircase just behind him.

Draco sighed dramatically, "what a shame. I was so looking forward to it. Was it your muggle family who raised you to be such a wimp, Potter? Or maybe they beat that into you, hm?"

Harry saw red. Every instinct that had been begging him to flee seconds ago deserted him and he launched forward at the Slytherin boy, fist at the ready to smash into his nose.

But he never made contact. Two pairs of hands prevented him from advancing, Crabbe and Goyle were quicker than they seemed. They shoved him away from Draco so roughly that Harry lost his balance, his hands scrabbled futilely at the stone walls on either side of the stairway entrance but he couldn't find a grip on their smooth surface.

To his horror, Harry felt himself tipping all the way backwards until he was falling back down the twisting staircase. He tried his best to protect his head but he was tumbling so quickly. He landed in a heap at the bottom and everything went black.

***

"Severus, my boy, so glad you could join me," announced Dumbledore as Severus stepped into the Headmaster's office.

"We have a recurring appointment, Albus. We meet each Tuesday prior to dinner," Snape replied flatly.

"Yes, yes, of course, but one never knows in the first week of the school year. Always so chaotic. So I thank you for making the time. Tea, Severus?"

"Thank you, yes," he said as he drew out his usual chair opposite the Headmaster's and sat down.

"Your new first years are all settling in well?"

"Insofar as it can be ascertained from a single night away from their families, yes. My prefects are acutely aware of the symptoms of homesickness and will intercede promptly if they feel it is required. I trust them to inform me if and when any situation becomes unmanageable."

"Glad to hear it, my boy," Dumbledore commented as he passed Severus a full teacup. "And your summer? Relaxing? Productive?"

"Have you ever known me to relax, Albus?"

"Hm, it would probably do wonders for your blood pressure."

"My blood pressure is fine," he said, rather disgruntled. "As for productive, Poppy is satisfied with her renewed potion stocks and my personal research has developed sufficiently without the distraction of the students."

"Glad to hear it, Severus," Dumbledore replied, taking a sip of his tea and settling back into his large, ornate chair.

"And yours, Albus? Was it a suitably relaxing and productive summer for you?" Severus inquired.

"Oh yes, my boy. I wasn't away from the castle long but I did manage a short excursion. And I succeeded in finding a suitable replacement Defense teacher."

Severus scoffed, "your definition of 'suitable' must differ from mine, Albus. I'm not quite sure what possessed you to hire that buffoon. He is beyond incompetent."

"Now, now, it has only been two days, my boy, you must give him a chance to..settle in before passing judgement."

"I have already heard mutterings of a drama performance, Albus, involving a troll slaying of all things. That does not constitute a suitable defense education."

"Perhaps an ice-breaker to begin the term, Severus. Some fun for the students to get back into the swing of things. And undoubtedly an excellent team building exercise at the very least. But I'm sure they'll be wielding their wands with practical magic soon enough."

"Hm," Severus sounded unconvinced. "At any rate Headmaster, I did not ensure my availability this evening to discuss the ineptitude of the newest member of the school's faculty. I am sure you are quite interested to learn what I have heard from my...old crowd."

"Do go on."

"They are...unsettled. They have heard what happened at the end of the last year with the boy, not every detail, but the gist. They now have irrefutable proof that the Dark Lord is not truly gone. Those who have previously denounced him on account of being confident he would not return are particularly disturbed. However, that does not change the fact that they would ultimately relish his return. Which leads us to our problem. They blame Potter for his part in preventing their Lord's return. It is my belief that if they were to somehow get their hands on the boy they would not hesitate to do him harm."

Dumbledore remained silent for a moment, absorbing Severus' words, before straightening in his chair infinitesimally.

"That is very useful information, Severus. Your insight is, as always, truly invaluable. I thank you for your continued service when I know it cannot be easy to endure the company of your former...associates. But I must ask something more of you. A task I feel only you are suited to."

"Why do I get the feeling this will not be pleasant for me, Albus?"

"I need you to watch over Harry," Dumbledore held up his hand when it looked as if Severus were about to interrupt him. "I know you have to a certain degree, over his first year. But I sense that he may need an even closer eye kept on him this year."

"Albus, surely there is someone else far more suited to his task than me?! I cannot stand the boy, and I assure you the feeling is entirely mutual. I have merely saved his scrawny neck over the past year when there was no one else available and no other option."

"I'm not sure I quite believe that, my boy. Regardless, there is no one else I would trust with this task and it is of the utmost importance, now more than ever with this new information you have obtained. He needs an adult he can trust if his life is going to be as tangled with Voldemort's as I fear it might." Severus flinched at the name of his former master. "An adult who will look out for his best interests whilst also not indulging his every whim.”

“He has a Head of House, Albus. Who also happens to be the Deputy Headmistress. Surely Minerva is far better suited to keep a watchful eye on the boy.”

“Ah, well how do I put this delicately? Minerva is not quite as young as she once was. It is my belief Harry needs someone who is able to keep up with him. I know you are fairly familiar with his..propensity for trouble.”

Severus scoffed but Dumbledore continued, “and as you mentioned yourself, Minerva’s deputy duties keep her extraordinarily busy when combined with her Head of House duties. Harry needs continual attention and guidance, Severus, something I feel if he’d had last year we may have avoided his latest encounter with Voldemort altogether.

Severus flinched again but quickly fixed a scowl back in place. “You do not think I am rather busy as well, Albus? My own Head of House duties, Potions Master duties, espionage to name a few.”

“I would not ask this of you if I did not think you were capable, my boy. Or if there were anyone else.”

This was absurd, they loathed each other! He could not conceive of having to spend even more time around the boy. His upcoming detention notwithstanding. That was purely a line of inquiry he was duty bound to investigate, after which Potter would be passed on to his Head of House if necessary. He briefly considered revealing the additional concerns he currently had with the Potter boy's behaviour but almost as soon as he’d considered it he refuted the idea. Not until he'd done a little more digging and was certain.

"If only you would get to know him, Severus. It is my belief that if you would stop allowing your perception of him to be clouded by your animosity with his father you would see more of Lily in him. He is a rather extraordinary child.

"I resent that implication, Albus. The boy is a nuisance beyond simply the connection to his father. His blatant disregard for rules is maddening, his habit of circumventing appropriate punishment when it is justified–"

"I'm afraid I must stop you there, Severus, do excuse me for interrupting you. The Owlery wards have just been activated and I must investigate. Please do carefully consider what I have asked of you, I have every hope in your acceptance and every faith in your success if you do. Have a pleasant rest of your evening, my boy. We shall speak soon."

And with that, Dumbledore rose from his chair and swept out of his office, leaving Severus staring at their half empty tea cups.

Chapter Text

Severus sat at the desk in his office silently fuming as he watched the seconds tick past on the large oval clock mounted on the wall. The boy was late. It was now quarter past the hour he had been told to arrive. How dare he be late when this was the second evening Severus'd had to sacrifice for him. He was ready to give the boy a piece of his mind if he ever bothered to arrive when suddenly his fireplace flared to life and the headmaster's head appeared.

"A word, Severus?"

"What can I do for you, Albus? I'm waiting for Potter to arrive for his detention but he is unforgivably late."

"Ah well, you may be waiting a fair while, Harry is currently in the hospital wing and has been for a number of hours."

"Is he now," Severus drawled. "What happened, what has he said?"

"He is unfortunately still unconscious, although Madam Pomfrey assures me it will not be long before he wakes. So you can understand that he is yet to offer any insight. However I found Harry alone and unconscious at the bottom of the owlery steps. And whilst I cannot be precisely sure what happened I do have a theory."

Severus shuddered at the image of Potter crumpled at the bottom of the stone steps, "go on."

"I'd like to keep my accusations to myself until I have spoken with Harry. But I do have an inkling you should speak with a few of your second years, Severus. I'm sure you can guess who."

"No doubt I can, Albus," he growled.

"Madam Pomfrey will call me when Harry wakes up, I'll drop in to see you after I have spoken with him."

Severus merely nodded. He was trying not to read too much into Albus' facial expression and tone as that was rather difficult through fire-call but he couldn't help but think that Albus had more information on Potter than he was letting on, something more than a theory. Before Severus could analyse him too closely the headmaster's head disappeared from the fireplace. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, only just resisting the urge to drop his head onto the desk in front of him. Blasted Potter. Always creating problems for him to solve.

Reluctantly getting to his feet, Severus stalked out of his office and made his way a few metres down the corridor to the entrance of the Slytherin common room.

"Anaconda," he uttered and a door appeared in the blank stretch of stone wall which he opened and stepped through. The Slytherin common room had smooth stone walls and a low ceiling, from which large green lamps hung, basking the room in a tinged light. Students were dotted around the room on large black leather sofas, chatting amongst themselves but when they noticed their head of house enter they fell quiet. Severus did a quick sweep of the room and when he didn't spot Draco turned to his Quidditch captain, "Flint, where is Mr. Malfoy?"

"In his dormitory, Professor," he answered.

"Fetch him."

"Yes, sir."

Everyone watched as Flint swiftly made his way towards the dormitories and disappeared up the stairs. In less than a minute Flint reappeared at the top of the stairs, Draco trailing behind him. Still no one dared speak as Draco made his way hesitantly towards his professor.

"With me," was all he said as Draco reached him. Severus abruptly turned on his heel and stalked back out of the common room, Draco hurrying to keep up. The door closed behind them and disappeared, once again leaving a smooth expanse of stone.

"What's this about, Professor?" Draco tried to sound clueless but couldn't quite keep the edge of nervousness out of his voice.

"Do not insult my intelligence, Draco. You know precisely why I have summoned you. The real question is will you be truthful with me and tell me what occurred late this afternoon, sometime before dinner?"

"I– I'm not sure what you're referring to, Professor," he stuttered.

"Well allow me to elucidate, Draco," he said coldly. "How was it that the headmaster came to find Mr. Potter unconscious and alone at the bottom of the owlery steps?"

"It wasn't me, sir! I swear. I didn't touch him!" he exclaimed. "Why, what has he said, did he say it was me?" he demanded.

"Do not use that tone with me, Draco," Severus snapped. "Remember with whom you are speaking." When Draco looked sufficiently cowed he continued, "given that Mr. Potter is currently still unconscious he has not yet said a word," Draco paled upon learning that. "The headmaster, however, has informed me that you were likely involved."

"How can he possibly know that?!" he recovered. "It's not like there are any portraits around or–"

“How is immaterial, Draco," Severus interrupted. "The headmaster does not rely on the gossiping of portraits to be cognisant of what is taking place in this castle's corridors and you would do well to remember that."

"I wasn't lying, sir. I didn't touch him. And it's Potter, why do you even care?" he mumbled, staring at his feet.

"Eyes up, Draco. You know how I feel about eye contact."

Draco unwillingly but obediently raised his gaze to his professor.

"I care because I would not have you be implicated in a situation such as this. You are twelve years old, Draco. Potter is not your concern."

"My father says–"

"I care not what your father says, Draco." Severus cut him off sharply. "I do not want to hear of any further altercations with Potter. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Draco said sulkily.

"Try again, Draco," Severus snapped. "I will not remind you again to speak to me with respect."

"Yes, sir."

"Better. He paused and sighed inwardly. "It's time to tell me, Draco. Truthfully. What happened?"

"We were just arguing and then he launched himself at me out of nowhere."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Well, maybe not nowhere, but he did look like he was going to punch me in the face! So Greg and Vince pushed him back to stop him. He was already pretty close to the stairs and I guess he must have lost his balance because he just fell back down them. But it wasn't me, like I said! I didn't touch him, it was Greg and Vince!"

"You may not have been the one who pushed him, Draco, but you did leave him at the bottom of the stairs in who knows what condition and fled the scene, did you not?"

Draco nodded miserably.

"I cannot begin to comprehend how you rationalised that that was the correct course of action. Some understanding may have been shown if you had called me or another teacher immediately to help. I am incredibly disappointed in you, Draco.

"Is– is he going to be okay?"

"Suddenly that concerns you, hm? Well luckily for all involved, yes," he snapped. "I will be speaking with Crabbe and Goyle in due course but in the meantime you will report to Mr. Filch's office every night for detention for the next week, the weekend included. Once you have had ample time to reflect on your actions, at the end of the week you will sincerely apologise to Potter," Severus glared at Draco, as if daring him to protest. "The headmaster will want to speak with you as well," he continued. "If he has an additional punishment for you I will have no objections. Now get out of my sight."

Draco spun around and squeaked the password before disappearing back inside the common room. Severus likewise spun around and made his way towards his private quarters to wait for Albus.

***

Harry slowly blinked his eyes open and immediately groaned softly as with his renewed consciousness came a throbbing pain in the back of his head. In fact, his whole body felt a bit sore. He felt around to his left where he knew a bedside table would be, hoping to encounter his glasses. Luckily he felt them folded neatly within his reach and put them on. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room he realised he must be in the hospital wing; he was lying in a bed with crisp white linen sheets, a white screen was pulled around his bed and the room smelled faintly of lavender.

Only moments later he heard the soft click of Madam Pomfrey's shoes across the stone floor towards his bed; either she'd somehow heard his groan or she had some mysterious monitors on him that told her he was awake. The screen was pulled slightly open and the matron stepped through the gap, making sure to pull it closed behind her.

"Mr. Potter," she said, looking intently at him. "It is good to see you awake. If you can sit up slowly it is time to take your next Pain Reliever, which you may drink rather than me spelling it into your stomach."

Harry flushed lightly but slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, Madam Pomfrey fussing slightly with the pillows to make sure he was comfortable. She handed him a blood red vial which he knew from experience was not pleasant so he downed it as quickly as he could, grimacing slightly. It worked instantaneously though and the throbbing pain reduced significantly to a dull ache. He leaned more fully into the pillows behind him and glanced up at the medi-witch.

"What day is it?" he questioned.

"Still Tuesday, Mr. Potter. You've just missed dinner, it's eight o'clock.

"I've missed Snape's detention again," he said mournfully. He's gonna be so angry."

"None of that Mr. Potter. Undoubtedly he has been informed of the situation."

Harry flinched slightly at what that implied. "What happened, Madam Pomfrey?" he asked quietly.

"You took a bit of a tumble, Mr. Potter. Down the owlery stairs of all things. The headmaster found you. I expect he'll be along in a few moments to speak with you as I have informed him you are awake as he requested. You presented with a severe concussion which I have spelled away, another few Pain Reliever doses throughout the night and you should not feel any lingering effects. Other than a few scrapes and bruises you are relatively unscathed. You were extremely lucky, Mr. Potter," she chastised. "It could have been much worse."

Harry nodded meekly, unsure of how to respond. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he tried.

"No thanks are necessary, Mr. Potter," she said briskly. "I am frankly astonished that you have managed to find yourself here so early in the year. Although it may be a blessing," she continued in a much gentler tone, "as something has come to light that I wish to speak with you about."

Harry stared at her, unsure of where this was going.

"When you were brought to me, it was not only the goose-egg on the back of your head that I was concerned about. You appeared to look a considerable deal more underweight than you do now. In fact the whole time you were unconscious you remained that way. It is only now that you are awake that you seem restored to the condition I observed you in at the welcome feast. Also, some of the bruises I have observed today appear too old to have been caused by a fall that happened only hours ago." Her tone of voice was so gentle, so full of concern but Harry couldn't bear it. He continued to stare at her, unable to fully comprehend everything she was implying.

When it looked like he wasn't going to respond, she continued. "Have you ever heard of a glamour, Harry?" the use of his first name from the usually strict matron startled him slightly. He shook his head, beginning to feel a little panicky.

"A glamour can be used to conceal parts of our appearance that we would rather keep hidden. A blemish, or the odd bruise. Or sometimes a great deal more than that. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Harry shook his head frantically, still unable to speak. "I think you're subconsciously casting a glamour on your appearance, Harry. When you are unconscious, so asleep or when you were knocked out from your fall, you are not able to maintain that glamour and your true appearance is revealed. You are quite dangerously underweight, Harry."

Harry quickly drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His heart was beating painfully fast in his chest and he was finding it a little difficult to draw breath. He squeezed his eyes closed, burying his head in his knees wishing he could just disappear on the spot. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he flinched at the unexpected contact but looked up.

"A calming draft, Harry," Madam Pomfrey said firmly, holding out a blue vial in front of his nose, expecting him to grab it. "That's it," she encouraged, as he drank it down in one gulp. "Take some deep breaths now, good boy." She plucked the empty vial out of his hands and placed it on his bedside table. He did feel instantly better until the unbelievable embarrassment settled in. She seemed to pick up on this though, "no need to feel embarrassed, Harry. I understand this must feel completely overwhelming for you. Is there anything you'd like to tell me, or do you have any questions for me?"

Instinctively Harry shook his head, but then changed his mind, "you're not going to tell anyone are you?"

"The headmaster is already aware, Harry," she said gently. "He was the one who discovered you unconscious after all. But even if he hadn't seen you himself, I would not have been able to keep this from him."

Harry's eyes filled with tears, he could not believe this was happening to him. He knew what he really looked like, this glamour or whatever it was hadn't kicked in at Privet Drive. But it had seemed like as soon as he'd stepped onto the platform at King's Cross it'd appeared. He'd just assumed it was some kind of healing magic. And he had no idea it had disappeared whilst he'd slept. He shared a dorm with five other people, someone could easily have seen him! He thought he was healed. That he could forget about it. That nobody had to know. He felt himself spiraling again.

"...Mr. Potter. Harry!" Madam Pomfrey's voice broke through his panic. "I need you to take deep breaths for me, I don't like to double dose with a calming draft but I will if you want one."

"..no. No it's okay, I don't need it. I'm fine." He took a ragged breath in and tried to will away his tears. He wouldn't cry in front of the medi-witch, he wasn't a baby. He'd already embarrassed himself enough.

It was at that moment that they both heard the hospital wing door creak open. "That must be the headmaster," she smoothed down his bedsheets, looking at him intently. "Can I convince you to eat something while you speak with him? Just something small."

Harry didn't want to find out if there was an alternative if he said no so he just nodded. "You don't have to talk about anything you're not ready for, and I'm happy to stay with you if you want. I'll give you a minute," she opened his screen and stepped out and he heard her make her way over to the entrance.

He slumped fully back down into his bed and brought the blankets over his face. He briefly considered making a run for it, but if Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey were standing at the only exit there wasn't really much chance of escape. He just knew they were talking about him right now and that made him feel furious. God, his emotions felt all over the place. One second he felt horribly panicky but now hot anger was coursing through him. Maybe he should have accepted that extra calming draft.

"Harry," he heard Professor Dumbledore's voice cut through his blankets and screen. "May I speak with you?"

"Yeah," was his muffled reply, which the headmaster must have been able to decipher as he heard the screen around his bed being opened once more. Dumbledore gave a soft chuckle as he observed the lump under the blankets. "Would you do me a favour and come out from under there, my boy. I would very much like to speak with you and I'm not sure your blankets would be very conducive to that."

"Conducive," Harry muttered. Whatever the hell that meant. But he was getting quite hot underneath the layers so he slowly lowered them and pushed himself back into a sitting position.

Dumbledore appraised the boy's flushed cheeks and noticed he wouldn't quite meet his eyes. "Thank you," he said, trying to draw the boy's gaze up to him. When that didn't work he gestured to the chair beside the bed, "may I sit, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, "sure."

"Did you want me to stay, Harry?" questioned Madam Pomfrey, as she bustled in and placed a bowl of what looked like vegetable broth in front of him. Harry shook his head, "I'll be in my office if you need me," and she left the two of them alone.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Dumbledore asked kindly, as Harry began to eat small spoonfuls of his dinner.

"..I'm not sure exactly, Professor. I feel a bit all over the place," he answered honestly, between mouthfuls. "Tired though, definitely."

"Completely understandable, I won't keep you long, my boy. And your head?"

"Much better," he exhaled. "Barely hurts now."

"I am so glad to hear that." He paused. "Do you think you could tell me what happened in the owlery?"

Harry sighed, it was very like the headmaster to get straight to the point. Well as long as he didn't bring up the other thing Harry could handle it. He finally looked at the headmaster, he was smiling kindly at him but his eyes weren't twinkling quite like they usually did. "It all happened so quickly. I was just running up there to say hello to Hedwig, see how she was settling back in. And when I got there Malfoy was there with his two sidekicks."

"You mean Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle?"

"Yeah. I think I sort of felt I was in trouble as soon as I saw them. There was no one else around. I should have just turned straight around and left. But then Malfoy started saying mean stuff to me and I couldn't just run away." Harry focused on pushing the soggy vegetables around his bowl, unsure of how to continue. It was kind of his fault that Crabbe and Goyle had pushed him.

"And then what happened?" Dumbledore prompted softly.

"Oh he just called me a wimp because I didn't want to fight him. And then he said something that really set me off and I might have almost punched him in the face," he said sheepishly. "But I don't think I even touched him before Crabbe and Goyle shoved me. I guess I just fell back down the stairs because I don't really remember anything else."

"What did he say to you, Harry?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it," Harry mumbled, glad he had the bowl in front of him as an excuse to look at something other than the headmaster. "I'm really tired, sir, can we do this some other time?" he pleaded.

Dumbledore contemplated the child in front of him carefully and found he could not deny him. "Of course, Harry. Get some rest and I hope to see you up and about tomorrow. We'll talk more then. Sleep well."

"Night, Professor," Harry couldn't quite believe his luck as Dumbledore stood up and disappeared behind his screen. He refused to feel bad. It wasn't a lie. He was really tired.

He heard a few whispered words which must have been Dumbledore saying goodbye to Madam Pomfrey, after which the hospital wing door creaked open and shut softly. The matron approached his bed and stepped around the screen.

"A few more spoonfuls, Harry?" she gestured at his bowl.

"..uh no I'm done, Madam Pomfrey, thank you." She looked disapprovingly at him but otherwise didn't comment. With a wave of her wand, his half-finished dinner disappeared and she grasped his blankets. "Lie down."

"You don't need to tuck me in!" he exclaimed, beyond mortified.

She ignored him. "I assume you would rather I wake you for your potion rather than spelling it into you?"

"Yes, please," he grumbled, accepting his fate and doing as she'd asked and lying down.

"Get to sleep then, young man. I will see you in a few hours."

Chapter Text

As the minutes slipped by, Severus gazed longingly at his drinks cabinet. He'd only resisted up until this point as he wanted a clear head for his conversation with the headmaster, but evidently Potter had not yet awoken and Severus could do nothing but wait and exercise his self control. It had been over an hour since he'd expressed his displeasure at Draco's actions and he could feel his patience wearing thin.

A knock at the door startled Severus out of his thoughts and he rose swiftly from his seat, praying to Merlin it was Albus outside of his door and not a problem-laden student. He breathed out heavily in relief as he opened the door and the headmaster was standing on his threshold. He ushered him in, gesturing for the older wizard to take a seat on the leather sofa opposite his usual seat.

"Can I offer you a drink, Albus? Tea, something stronger, perhaps?"

"Not at this moment, my boy, thank you," Dumbledore responded, taking a seat.

Severus simply nodded and sat down opposite him, "how is Potter?"

"Awake for now, although not for much longer I would think as he was rather tired. Eating a small amount and almost fully recovered thanks to Poppy."

"How did this happen, Albus?" Snape inquired. "I thought wards and cushioning charms were in place to prevent this exact thing from happening, accident or otherwise."

"Ah yes, well the wards are in place to inform me of such incidents, and do not need maintenance. The cushioning charms on the other hand only stay in place over the winter months when the steps are particularly perilous due to the rain and the ice. They require constant renewal and I'm ashamed to say we've seen no need to maintain them when the weather is as mild as this.

"Trust Mr. Potter to be the exception to the rule."

"He can hardly be to blame for this, Severus," Albus replied lightly.

"I didn't mean to imply that was the case, Albus. Although the incident itself I would rule an accident. The fact Potter was abandoned at the bottom of the stairs however, cannot be justified."

"You have spoken with the students involved then?"

"I have confronted Draco. He was initially...disinclined to accept the seriousness of the issue. But I have made my displeasure with his actions quite clear. He will serve detention with Argus for a week and I have told him you will wish to speak with him also." Albus nodded his head in agreement. "Any further consequence you wish to assign him he is aware I will not intervene with. Draco claims Potter was only pushed in self defense and I am inclined to believe him as he is a pitiful liar. In that sense, I do not blame Crabbe and Goyle for their defense of Draco but I have no doubt that Draco is largely to blame for none of them taking any action to help Potter once he had fallen. However that does not mean they should escape punishment. I am still considering how best to discipline them but rest assured they will be dealt with."

"I have complete faith you will handle the situation accordingly, Severus. I am too am considering the best way to handle Mr. Malfoy."

Severus nodded but gave a long-suffering sigh. He could already feel this was going to be a long and arduous year.

"Did Potter's story corroborate what Draco admitted to me?” Severus inquired.

"For the most part, yes. He even admitted that he might have struck Mr. Malfoy if he hadn't been prevented from doing so. But this leads me to something more that I wish to discuss with you, Severus. Something I would like to share with you only because I sense you may be able to help."

Severus was immediately on edge. "This is still about Potter, I assume?"

"It is," Albus replied softly. "I know we have already discussed you potentially keeping a closer watch over the boy."

Severus scowled.

"But I fear his situation might be far more delicate than I feared," he continued. "Certain..information came to light whilst Harry was unconscious in the hospital wing. About his physical condition."

"Elucidate please, Albus," Severus urged. "I assume you mean beyond the injury he suffered earlier today."

Albus looked incredibly grave as he nodded and Severus was reminded of the expression he'd tried not to interpret during their earlier fire call.

"It appears Harry has been performing a glamour charm over his appearance. Most likely unintentionally as Poppy assured me when she questioned him he had no knowledge of the charm's existence."

Severus felt his blood run cold. "What has he been concealing, Albus?"

Albus studied the face of his potions master for a moment before continuing. "Harry is quite considerably underweight. A stark contrast to how he appeared up until he was knocked unconscious. Poppy has also informed me that he bears a number of bruises that are not consistent in their placement or age with his fall today."

Severus winced and closed his eyes. He hadn't wanted his suspicions to be confirmed. And now they had been he felt sick to his stomach.

"How is this related to his altercation with Draco?" he said after a moment's thought, deciding not to bring up his earlier suspicions.

"Harry admitted to me that it was a comment Mr. Malfoy made that caused him to react physically. Now, I'm sure you are aware that both boys are partial to taunting each other, often involving comments of a familial nature. I inferred that Mr. Malfoy made some comment to Harry that provoked him."

Snape nodded wearily. "And did you speak with him about the glamour?"

"Unfortunately, no. As soon as I asked him what precisely Mr. Malfoy had said to provoke him he claimed he was too tired and would I mind if we continued that conversation at another time. Now I don't doubt that he was exhausted but it was fairly transparent that he was attempting to avoid the topic."

"Potter has always been a terrible liar."

"Yes," Albus couldn't help but agree. "The boy is quite the open book. But I will attempt to discuss with him more tomorrow when he is more rested. Which you are more than welcome to join me for, my boy."

"Have you finally gone senile, old man?" Severus snapped.

"I assure you, Severus, I am quite serious."

"That is what worries me, Albus. In what universe is that a good idea? The boy does not trust me to confide in, we can barely be in the same room without causing an argument. Your suggestion that I be present is quite frankly absurd."

"You must start a connection somewhere."

"And I hardly think a conversation about his abusive home situation is the place to start."

"I disagree, my boy, as someone who may be able to relate-"

"I must stop you there, Albus. I will not be disclosing any details of my own unsavoury childhood, with Potter or anybody else. The fact that even you have rudimentary details is distasteful to me."

"I'm not suggesting you share personal details, Severus. I would never ask that of you. But he might need someone to turn to and I do not know anyone more qualified than you."

"I am the last person on this godforsaken earth that Potter would turn to for anything, let alone this, and you cannot convince me otherwise. I struggle to imagine how you could feel differently, Albus. The boy detests me."

"I am sorry you feel that way, Severus. And I would never force the two of you together, no matter how much I am convinced both of you may benefit from such a relationship."

It took every ounce of Severus' self control not to roll his eyes at this employer. "As much as I condemn the abuse that has most likely taken place in the boy's home, I am certain there is nothing I can do to be of service to him."

The older wizard looked saddened but eventually nodded his head. "And I must respect that, my boy," he said, getting to his feet. "Now as it is getting late I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening. Please inform Mr. Malfoy that I wish to see him tomorrow in my office at eight o'clock, after dinner, if you will."

"Of course, Albus," Severus replied, also getting to his feet and walking the headmaster to the door. "You may of course keep me appraised of the situation, but I do not think it wise for us to have direct contact outside of the classroom."

Dumbledore smiled briefly at his potions master, "goodnight, my boy," was his only response and then he was gone. Severus closed the door behind him with a groan, leaning back heavily against it. He felt no satisfaction in being right in his suspicions of Potter's behaviour no matter how he felt personally about the boy. As Albus had attempted to mention before Severus had felt the need to interrupt him, his own childhood had been less than ideal. But he didn't have the energy to think on the situation tonight and in an attempt to not think about Potter, or his own tumultuous childhood, he pushed himself up off the door and stalked towards his drinks cabinet.

***

Once Madam Pomfrey had extracted a promise from Harry to eat as much as he could at breakfast she released him from the hospital wing. She watched fondly as he bounced out of the double doors and disappeared from her sight, a far cry from the condition he'd been in when he'd arrived last night. It was difficult to imagine what the child really looked like underneath the charm masking his appearance when faced with his exuberance this morning.

She had discussed with the headmaster late last night whether they should request that Harry drop his glamour but ultimately decided that as long as his magical core wasn't being exhausted it was best to let him be. It certainly wasn't in Harry's best interest to put on display the obvious abuse he'd suffered. Besides, it still didn't seem like he was consciously altering his appearance even now he knew of a glamour charm's existence.

Harry slipped into the Great Hall, locating his friends sat in their usual spot and made a bee-line for them. Ever the observant one, Hermione noticed him first.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, as Ron followed her gaze and turned around to face him. "Where have you been?"

"Shh!" Harry begged as quite a few others surrounding them looked around in interest at Hermione's raised voice. "I'll tell you later, okay?"

"You better," she demanded, as Harry sat down opposite her. "Professor McGonagall came to find us before dinner and said you wouldn't be back last night but she didn't say why. And believe me, we begged her to. She did say you'd probably be at breakfast though so Ron's brought your things."

Harry smiled at his best friend next to him as he passed his bag over, "thanks Ron, you're a lifesaver."

"Just glad you're okay, mate. We were really worried last night. McGonagall was giving nothing away."

"You really are okay though, Harry?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes, 'Mione. I'm fine. Like I said, I'll tell you later. I don't want to talk about it here." He grabbed a couple of slices of toast from the rack in front of him and started to slather them in jam, grateful that he felt hungry for once.

Hermione gave him a long look but eventually the conversation shifted away from centering on Harry and he was halfway through his second slice of toast and quite happy just listening to his friends chatter away when a folded piece of cream parchment materialised in front of him. He snatched it up but didn't read it immediately.

"Secret admirer, Harry?" joked Ron. Hermione gave him a sharp look and kicked him under the table. "Ouch!" he exclaimed. "That really hurt!"

"It was supposed to, Ronald."

Sighing, Harry unfolded the note.

Harry,

Please would you make your way to my office after you have finished your breakfast.
You have been excused from your morning lesson.
I have been quite fond of peppermint toads recently.

A.D.

"It's from Dumbledore," he said. "He wants to talk to me after breakfast. Looks like I'm skipping Charms."

"Is this about what happened yesterday?" Hermione asked.

"Probably, dunno what else it would be about." Although that wasn't true. At the same time as he spoke those words aloud he felt his heart start to pound as he knew precisely what else Dumbledore might want to speak to him about.

"Well, I'll probably get going now," he said as he dropped the remaining half of his uneaten toast back on his plate, scrunching the note in his fist at the same time. "I'll probably see you in History of Magic." He grabbed his bag and stood up, trying to give his friends a reassuring smile.

*

Harry knew he was stalling as he walked the longest route he could think of that still took him in the general direction of Dumbledore's office. He was wandering slowly, dragging his feet and trying not to think too much about what the headmaster wanted to discuss but before he knew it he found himself standing in front of the stone gargoyle. He often wondered if Dumbledore knew exactly when someone was standing outside. Not wanting to test the theory and give Dumbledore any indication that he was worried about meeting with him, he quickly spoke what he assumed was the password.

"Peppermint toads."

The gargoyle began to twist, revealing the staircase which Harry stepped onto and began to walk up. At the top of the stairs he paused in front of the large oak door and tried to take some deep breaths to get himself under control, but he couldn't quite slow his breathing enough to calm himself down completely. Before he could talk himself into running straight back down the spiral staircase he rapped three times on the door. It opened seemingly of its own accord to reveal the circular room of the headmaster's office, warm and cheerful under Albus Dumbledore's tenure.

Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, perusing what looked to be the longest piece of parchment Harry had ever seen. It made Snape's five foot essay requirements look laughable in comparison.

"Harry, my boy, it is so good to see you up and about. Please take a seat," he gestured to an ornate chair in front of his desk.

Harry edged towards the headmaster and took a seat, although he remained perched on the edge.

Dumbledore put aside his parchment and looked closely at him. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine, thank you, sir," he heard himself say.

"Good, good. That is excellent. Madam Pomfrey is quite the miracle-worker, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical but he nodded his head mutely just in case.

"Now, I have pulled you from your first lesson of the day as I think there is still quite a bit for us to discuss. I quite understand why you were not up to it yesterday but as you are feeling better I think we can continue our discussion from last night."

Harry didn't say anything. His heart had once again picked up speed and was pounding painfully in his chest.

Dumbledore didn't seem deterred however and plowed straight on, "would you like to pick up where we left off, Harry? I think you were about to tell me what Mr. Malfoy had said that had provoked you?"

Harry did not think that was what he had been about to tell Dumbledore last night. He had not been planning on telling anyone what Malfoy had said that had caused him to see red.

"I don't think I can quite remember, Professor," Harry mumbled. He was staring at his knees, which he knew was rude but he had a weird feeling that he should be avoiding making eye contact with the older wizard.

"Not to worry," Dumbledore said gently. "You don't have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable, Harry. But I would like to ask you some more questions and how about you just see what you feel up to answering."

Harry squeezed his eyes closed, his head still bowed, shaking his head marginally. He was gripping so tightly to the seat of his chair that his knuckles had turned white. The pounding in his chest had not eased, he was surprised Dumbledore hadn't mentioned he could hear it; it felt that loud to Harry. He really wished he had one of Pomfrey's calming drafts to hand right about now as he felt his chest start to constrict as he found it increasingly difficult to breathe.

"Harry. Harry, can you take a deep breath for me." Dumbledore's voice attempted to cut through his panic.

Harry was shaking his head more vigorously now as struggled on the inhale. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the headmaster get to his feet. In a horrible recreation of his experience in Snape's classroom, Harry felt a jolt of pure panic course through him and he jumped to his feet and scrambled away from the advancing headmaster. He bounded down the staircase two at a time trying not to think about the fact that Dumbledore must think he was crazy.

Skipping the last few steps entirely, he darted down the corridor, not paying the slightest attention to where he was going.

He rounded the first corner he came to and all of a sudden slammed into something, or someone, that felt incredibly solid. Slightly winded at the impact, he tried to step back and put some space between himself and whatever it was he had crashed into. However a pair of unyielding, strong hands wrapped around his upper arms and he whipped his head up, unbelievably mortified, and found himself staring into the irritated face of his potions professor.

Chapter Text

Harry struggled hard, trying to wrench his arms out of Snape's firm grip. But the Potions Master held fast, which did not help Harry's already heightened state of panic.

“Potter, what is the meaning of this?” he snapped.

But Harry did not respond and continued to try and twist out of the hold Snape had on him.

“Mr. Potter, your struggles are futile, now I have asked you a direct question, answer me immediately.”

When his question still went unanswered, Severus crouched down to his level, prepared to give the boy a piece of his mind, still holding his forearms tightly.

He attempted to catch the boy’s gaze but what he observed gave him pause. Potter had a slightly sweaty sheen to his face, his breaths were sharp and shallow, and Severus could feel he was trembling due to the tight hold he had on him.

He knew immediately the reason Potter would not, and could not, respond to him. Loosening his grip to a less bruising hold, as by now Potter's struggles had diminished considerably, he steered the boy towards the wall of the corridor. With a gentle but firm tug downwards, the boy pliantly sat, and once he was on the ground with his back leaning against the stone wall, Severus released him completely and took a step back.

Once again crouching down to the boy’s level he spoke clearly but firmly. “Potter, you are having a panic attack. I need you to take deep breaths.”

Severus maintained a steady drone of reassurances: that the boy would be fine, he just needed to keep breathing as deeply as he could, that he was safe. On and on he spoke, doing his best to reassure until eventually Harry’s breaths began to even out and his trembling became barely noticeable. Once Severus was certain the worst of it was over he attempted a direct question.

“How do you feel, Mr. Potter?”

“Sick,” was his weak response.

“Can you stand?”

Harry nodded whilst simultaneously pushing himself shakily to his feet. Severus also got to his feet, considerably more steadily.

Once he was certain the boy wasn’t about to keel over he spoke again. “Follow me,” and turned and began walking at a measured pace back the way he had initially come. He heard the boy’s hesitant footsteps echo against the stone, indicating his compliance.

“Where… where are we going?” came a halting question from some paces behind him.

“I am escorting you to the hospital wing.”

“No!” Harry exclaimed and Severus noticed his footsteps coming to a halt. “I just got out of there this morning, I’m not going back already.”

Severus spun around and noticed that the boy was looking considerably more lively than he had a few minutes ago. “I wasn’t giving you the choice, Mr. Potter. Now keep walking.”

“Why do I have to go, there’s nothing wrong with me, I’m not sick!” he protested.

“Did you not just admit to feeling sick scarcely one minute ago, Mr. Potter?”

“That’s different” the boy mumbled, glancing at his feet.

“I beg to differ. And besides, you have just experienced a panic attack, a health issue which the school’s medi-witch will need to be informed of.”

“It’s not a health issue!” he exclaimed.

Not wanting to trigger another episode in the boy, Severus kept his voice low and even and refrained from demanding the use of his honorific.

“I disagree, Potter. A panic attack is a health issue. A mental health issue. One that the person who is in charge of your overall health needs to be aware of.”

Harry just stared at him, partly embarrassed but also with a touch of contempt.

“I really do feel fine now, sir.” Interestingly the boy could find his manners when he wanted something, Severus thought dryly. “I promise I’ll go and see Madam Pomfrey if I feel bad again. I don’t need to go now.”

“I don’t know how I can make this any clearer to you, Potter. I am not giving you the option. You can follow me of your own volition or I will have to make you. Something that will be unpleasant for the both of us.”

Harry squinted up at him, obviously trying to figure out how real that threat was. Never one to back down from a challenge, Severus maintained his no nonsense expression and eventually Harry's shoulders slumped and he once again began to shuffle forward. Confident that they could now proceed without hindrance to the hospital wing, Severus spun on his heel and lead the way.

***

After several minutes that passed in complete silence, Severus pushed open the door to the hospital wing and stepped aside in order to usher the boy in ahead of him. Harry shuffled his feet across the flagstones, a habit which set Severus’ teeth on edge.

“Professor Snape? Mr. Potter? What can I do for you?” came the matron’s voice as she bustled out of her office.

Confident the boy wasn’t going to reveal the reason for their visit himself, Severus spoke up. “I have just discovered Mr. Potter in the midst of a panic attack. I have brought him here for you to check over and so that you are aware of the occurrence.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” she crooned, beckoning the boy to her. “Come and hop into bed and I’ll check you over.”

Severus saw the boy tense out of the corner of his eye and knew this was not about to go smoothly.

“No!” Harry all but screamed. “I’m not sick! And you know about it now so I don’t need to stay, I’m fine, just let me go!”

The matron looked astounded at his sudden outburst but Severus was a little more familiar with this side of the child.

He turned so he was directly facing the boy and spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. “Mr. Potter, you will get into bed, as directed, immediately. How dare you speak to Madam Pomfrey with such little respect. Your earlier affliction does not excuse this behaviour. Get moving. Now.”

Humiliation seemed to hold Harry's tongue and he refused to look at either of the adults as he stalked past them and made his way towards a bed near the centre of the room and forcefully dragged the screen around it.

The matron looked at Severus questioningly and he sighed and waved his wand, muttering a silencing charm.

"What happened, Severus?"

“Potter practically collided with me in a corridor just off the headmaster’s office. I suspect Albus was attempting to continue the conversation he started in here with the boy last night. I can't imagine he was particularly successful as I noticed Potter seemed to be in the throes of what I was confident was a panic attack. He managed to calm down after approximately ten minutes with deep breathing. As you may have observed he is extremely reluctant to be here."

"Funnily enough, I did notice that. He's lucky you found him when you did."

"Yes, well, it seems the boy cannot be left alone for a second without getting himself into trouble. Perhaps twenty-four hour supervision is required," he said snidely.

"Are you volunteering for the job, Severus?"

"Of course not, do not be absurd, Poppy. I have done what is required of me by bringing him to you."

Now if you'll excuse me I really must be going."

"Thank you for bringing him in, Severus," she said sincerely. "But there is one more thing. Albus informed me he was keeping you cognisant of Mr. Potter's condition?"

"Yes," he agreed shortly.

"Then you are aware that he will require your nutrient potion for a considerable number of weeks."

"Of course, Poppy. My apologies for not having offered as soon as I learned of the situation. I have a free hour this afternoon to brew. Tell the boy to come to my office before dinner this evening and I will have some ready for him."

"Thank you, Severus."

"No thanks are necessary, Poppy," he said, as he waved his wand to cancel his silencing charm. "I will leave him in your capable hands.”

He turned and headed for the door, not giving time for the matron to respond.

***

As soon as the hospital wing door had creaked shut behind him, Severus wasted no time marching straight to the headmaster's office.

"Peppermint toads," he grumbled and watched as the stone gargoyle began to twist.

After ascending the spiral staircase he rapped his knuckles on the door, stepping through as the door swung open.

"Severus, what can I do for you?" the headmaster asked jovially.

The Potions Master did his best not to scowl at the older wizard as he strode forward and took a seat. "I have just deposited Mr. Potter in the hospital wing. Something which I have a feeling you might know something about."

"You are correct, Severus. I receive a report whenever a student is admitted to the infirmary. Much like you as a head of house do whenever one of your Slytherins is admitted."

"I know that, Albus," he snapped. "But I think you possess a little more information than you would normally in this instance. Was Potter not with you in this office barely twenty minutes before you received said report."

"You are quite right. And I know what you are implying. I am aware Harry left my office in quite a heightened state of panic. I did not want to contain him as I felt that would ultimately make the situation more dire."

"So you thought allowing him loose in the castle was the best option, Albus?" he asked incredulously.

"On the contrary, my boy, I knew you were not far away and would prevent him from coming to any harm."

Severus refrained from asking exactly how Albus had known that; just as he'd divulged to Draco, the headmaster had his ways.

"And you thought me the best candidate for de-escalation?"

"I am sure you did a fine job, Severus. I do not doubt your ability to help him."

"I thought you weren't going to push the issue of our relationship, Albus?" he sneered.

"Of course not, of course not. Now, was there something else you wanted? I'm afraid I am frightfully busy."

Severus stared disbelievingly at him. "I'd quite like to know what caused Potter to bolt out of your office and experience a panic attack barely fifty metres from your door, Albus."

"I was under the impression you did not want to be involved, Severus," he said lightly.

"But I did request to be kept informed," he countered.

"Very well," the headmaster acquiesced after a short pause. "But I'm afraid there is not much to tell. I merely asked him what exactly it was that Mr. Malfoy had said to him that had caused him to react physically in the owlery; he claimed he could not remember. I did not want to push the issue so I assured him that was fine and would he be amenable to answering any other questions he felt comfortable with."

Severus expected the older wizard to continue but he didn't. "That was all?"

"I assure you, that was the extent of our conversation."

Severus leaned back heavily in his chair. The boy was clearly more traumatised than he'd originally thought if even the mere mention of his experience caused such a reaction.

"I will speak with Poppy sometime this evening and discuss the best way to move forward with Harry," the headmaster continued. "I know the two of you have often worked in tandem to help a student in Harry's position."

"Mm," Severus concurred. Most years he became aware of one or two of his new Slytherins coming from an abusive household, the two had become a formidable team in helping students to overcome their trauma.

"I am sure you and Poppy will be successful in helping Potter to heal. She is extremely experienced and the boy trusts you, Albus. And Minerva will undoubtedly do everything she can to assist, also. And as I have said, I am happy for you to consult me, but I do not think direct contact would be beneficial for him."

"Very good, my boy," Albus stated. "I will endeavor to keep you informed. Now if that is all, I really must get back to work."

"Of course, Albus," Severus said, getting to his feet. "And do let me know how your conversation with Draco goes this evening."

The headmaster nodded his assent and with that Severus left the office.

***

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a few minutes before she made her way over to his bed.

"Harry, may I come in," she spoke from outside the screen of the bed he had picked.

"Yeah," came the reluctant reply, so she swept the screen open and stepped inside, swishing it closed behind her again.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked. The child still looked embarrassed. He was leaning back against the pillows but sat crossed legged and on top of the covers, clearly still expressing his disapproval at being made to stay.

"Uh, a bit tired of everyone asking me that, if I'm honest. I feel okay, I don't need to be here."

"Well I'm glad to hear you're feeling okay. But I do think we need to have a conversation, Harry. Would that be okay?"

"What about?" Harry asked, tensing slightly.

"Just about what happened when you ran into Professor Snape."

"O-okay."

"Has something like this happened to you before, Harry?"

"No. I mean yes. But not like that. Not that badly, I mean," he said in a rush.

"It's okay. Just take a few breaths for me."

Harry nodded and did as she asked as the matron pulled out the visitor's chair and sat down so as not to seem so imposing.

"I guess it's sort of happened before," he continued more calmly. "Like when I was in here after the owlery with you and you gave me a calming draft. And then..one other time when I really freaked out. But this was definitely the worst. It felt so much worse. I felt like, like I was going to die..," he trailed off, looking into the distance.

"That is a very common symptom of a panic attack, Harry," she said gently.

Harry glanced back at her, "so you think that's what it was?"

"From what you and Professor Snape have both described, yes, I do."

"Great," he huffed. "Just another thing that makes me a freak."

"Mr. Potter! Do not speak about yourself like that. This by no means makes you a 'freak'".

"Another thing that makes me different then. I'm tired of not being normal. And what if it happens in front of everyone next time. Then everyone will definitely think I'm a freak."

"Harry, I'm going to ask you not to use that word to refer to yourself again. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I'll try, I guess."

"Thank you. Now as for next time, we are going to do everything we can to avoid another attack."

"You don't think it will happen again?"

"Well, I didn't quite say that. But I think with some proper techniques we can hope to minimise the severity should it happen again."

"Techniques?"

"Breathing exercises, dilute calming drafts, maybe some talking therapy."

"Therapy!" Harry exploded outraged, bolting upright on the bed. "That is for freaks!"

"Mr. Potter, I have asked you not to use that word," she said sternly.

Harry's cheeks flushed and he flopped back down on his pillows. "Sorry," he muttered quietly.

"It is quite alright. Now, therapy is nothing to be ashamed of. And I think you could personally benefit hugely from it. You have been through a lot, Harry."

"Talking to someone about everything isn't going to make everything okay. That's stupid. No offense."

Madam Pomfrey chose to ignore the last comments, "what do you mean by everything?"

"Y'know. The stuff you saw..before. But I don't want to talk about it," he said quickly. "I think bringing it up is what makes me panic or whatever."

"I'm glad you've said that, Harry. Because I believe that's what triggers your attacks too. And that's why I think talking therapy could really help you. To prevent such a reaction. To help you heal."

"I don't need to heal. I'm fine."

The matron smiled tightly. "We have a long way to go before you are 'fine', Mr. Potter. But I know we will get there. Now, I would like you to really think about how you would like to tackle these panic attacks. I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do. But ignoring them and hoping they go away is not an option I'm afraid."

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

"Of course, a very sensible idea. But not too long. By the end of the week. Anytime Friday come and see me and we can make a plan together. Now I know we didn't discuss it at length last time you were here but we do need to address your malnutrition.”

Harry wrinkled his nose at that word and breathed deeply.

“I need you to be eating three balanced meals a day. No skipping breakfast as I know you children are wont to do when you wake up too late. I have asked Professor Snape to brew you a nutrient potion that you will need to take before each meal. It will help you absorb the nutrients more fully and get you back up to a healthy weight. A balanced diet will work in tandem with the potion so both are very important in your case. Do you understand?"

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey.”

"If you go to his office directly before dinner you can collect it yourself," the matron continued. Harry gulped audibly but nodded his understanding. "Take it exactly as he directs," she added sternly. "In the meantime I will need you to come and see me weekly so I can monitor your progress. Let's schedule those visits on Tuesdays, as I know you have quidditch practice on Mondays and Thursdays. And speaking of quidditch practice-"

"Please Madam Pomfrey, you can't ban me from quidditch, Oliver will go nuts! Please don't say I can't play," he begged.

"I wasn't going to ban you, Mr. Potter. But I do want you to take it easy in practice. I believe your first game isn't for another month, is that right?"

Harry nodded emphatically.

"By then your diet and the nutrient potions should have made a significant difference, but it will be up to you to ensure you are eating sufficiently and taking the doses correctly to maximise their potential. If, and only if, I am satisfied with your progress you will be able to play as arduously as I know you will want to by that time."

"I promise I'll take them, Madam Pomfrey."

"See that you do," her words were stern but she was smiling fondly at him.

"Right, young man. Shall we get you back to class, if you feel up to it that is?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "I've already missed most of Charms but I don't want to miss Herbology too."

"Very well," she said, getting to her feet. "You may sit here quietly until the bell signals the end of the first period. Then you may leave and rejoin your classmates. I will see you on Friday for our discussion. But do not hesitate to contact me if you have need of me beforehand."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"You do not need to thank me, Harry, but you are very welcome all the same."

Chapter Text

As soon as the bell rang, Harry jumped up from his bed and darted around the screen. His bag had been returned from where he'd left it in Dumbledore's office, there was no explanation, it had just appeared. But he wasn’t going to question it. He wasn't sure he could quite face Dumbledore's office right now, or Dumbledore himself for that matter.

Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out of her office as she heard Harry making a speedy exit. "I will see you on Friday, Mr. Potter," she reminded him. "But remember what I have said. Speak to a teacher or come and find me if you have need before then."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey. Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he promised as he pulled open the door and disappeared from her view.

Harry moved quickly along the corridors leading to the Entrance Hall and bounded out and down to Herbology as he wanted to maximise his time outside before having to enter the greenhouse. It wasn't unduly cold so he pulled his jumper off and enjoyed the feeling of the slightly cool air prickling across his skin. It felt wonderful after the start to the day he'd had. Being outside had always made him feel better. At Privet Drive, being outside had been his escape from the Dursleys. He didn't feel so trapped when he was surrounded by the open air.

After only a few minutes of blissful silence spent outside the greenhouse, the sound of voices could be heard as the rest of his second year Gryffindors and Slytherins snaked out of the castle and down the slope towards him. His heart plummeted to his stomach as he remembered just who he shared Herbology with this year. He didn't think he was ready to face Malfoy after what happened. Squinting hard, he noticed the blonde boy and his two defenders were at the back of the group heading towards him.

Ron and Hermione however, were right at the front and broke away from the rest of the crowd as they must have figured the lone figure loitering outside Greenhouse three was him.

"How was your conversation with Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, slightly breathlessly, as soon as she reached him. Ron was only a pace behind her.

"Uh, yeah, not good. But I don't want to talk about it here," he replied, looking beyond his best friends at the crowd fast approaching.

"Yeah no worries. We'll go somewhere quiet at lunch," Ron suggested.

Harry nodded noncommittally, grateful that Professor Sprout appeared behind him at that moment, ushering her students in. As Harry and his friends were first in they got a spot furthest away from the entrance, while Malfoy and his friends brought up the rear and took the only remaining spaces just inside the greenhouse.

The lesson progressed uneventfully, the students so focused on keeping control of their leaping toadstools that they did not interact much with each other. As they walked back up to the castle after the lesson had finished, fortunately or not, Harry couldn't decide, Neville suggested they start preparing their performance for Defense at lunch time. Harry found the strained look on Hermione's face hilarious as she battled between making a start on their project but equally being desperate to hear from Harry what had happened in his meeting with Dumbledore.

"Sure Nev, why not?" Harry replied to the boy's suggestion. After which he quietly whispered "we'll talk before dinner, I promise," in the direction of Hermione.

For the remainder of the day Harry could practically feel Hermione's intense gaze boring into the side of his head. She couldn't bear not knowing things and this wasn't exactly something she could go and look up in the library to find the answer. It was almost like she was attempting to read his mind and he wondered briefly if that was something that wizards could do. He made a mental note to ask her about it later just to be sure.

As soon as the final bell of the day rang and the students filed out of Transfiguration, Hermione linked her arm with Harry's and, confident that Ron was following behind them, steered them down the corridor towards a disused classroom.

"I don't know why you're so desperate to hear this, guys," Harry muttered as the hopped up to sit on top of one the dusty desks.

"We don't even know where you were last night, Harry!" Hermione pleaded as she too pushed herself up to sit on the desk next to Harry. Ron closed the door firmly behind him and sat on a desk opposite them.

Harry sighed deeply, realising there was no other option but to tell his friends the truth. At least partially.

"I was in the hospital wing," he admitted softly.

"I knew it!" Hermione exclaimed. "Didn't I say that Ron? I knew we should have pushed Professor McGonagall a bit harder to tell us. We could have come and sat with you for a bit. I can't believe she kept that from us, we-"

"Hermione! Let him speak," Ron interrupted. "He hasn't even said what happened yet."

"Right. Sorry, Harry," she blushed faintly. "Go on."

After giving her a weak smile, Harry continued. "Well, you know I went up to the owlery, basically when I got there Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were all up there," he paused as Hermione gasped. "Malfoy was just being an idiot and saying I should fight him, which obviously I wasn't going to as it was three against one. And I wouldn't have even if it was just Malfoy," he added hastily at Hermione's disapproving look.

"So what happened then?" Ron questioned.

"Uh well, he just wouldn't stop taunting me and then he said something about the Dursleys and I don't even know what happened. I can't even really remember very well," he subconsciously scratched the back of his head. "I think I must have ran at him, just to make him stop talking, I didn't really have a plan. But I barely got close to him before Crabbe and Goyle pushed me away and I guess I was really close to the stairs because then I just kept falling backwards and down the stairs and I blacked out and woke up in the hospital wing. So yeah," he finished lamely.

Ron and Hermione were staring at him dumbfoundedly. "They pushed you down...the owlery steps?" Hermione repeated slowly.

"Yeah."

"You're saying that like it's no big deal, Harry. That's mental," Ron said.

"Well...I'm fine now," Harry argued.

"Fine! That fall could have killed you, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, gripping his arm tightly. "Who found you? I can't imagine Malfoy running for help."

"Dumbledore found me. Apparently there are wards that alerted him to something falling. So I think he came pretty quickly."

"I can't believe there aren't any charms that stop anyone falling down in the first place," Hermione declared. "What's the use in being alerted afterwards?"

"Oh, well he did say they have cushioning charms sometimes. Only in the winter I think he said, when it's really icy. I can't fully remember his reasoning, I was pretty out of it."

"Only in the winter," Hermione breathed. "As if people only trip December through February, honestly!"

"Yeah well, I think he said they'd look into it being in place all the time now. Like I said, don't really remember."

"What did Madam Pomfrey say then?" Hermione queried.

"Just that I was really lucky. I had a concussion but I'm totally fine now."

"And what's happening to Malfoy? And his dumb sidekicks. Did they really just leave you there?" Ron asked.

"Yeah I think so. I don't actually know what's happening to them. I didn't really ask. I don't actually care, I want nothing to do with them."

"They should be expelled. All of them," Ron declared angrily.

"I agree," Hermione affirmed. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Harry. I really can't believe it. And that we weren't allowed to come and see you in the hospital wing."

"Well there might have been another reason I wasn't allowed visitors," Harry began. His heart picked up an uncomfortably quick rhythm at his admission.

"Why's that, Harry?" prompted Hermione when he didn't continue.

"Uh well, basically, Pomfrey discovered that I'm really underweight."

"...underweight?" Ron said after a pause, looking more closely at Harry. "You look fine to me, mate."

"Well yeah, I would. It turns out I'm casting a glamour on myself."

"A glamour?" Hermione exclaimed. "That's really advanced magic, Harry!" Hermione said. "How are you maintaining that?"

"Hermione," Ron said indignantly. "That's not important right now. Why do you need it in the first place, Harry?"

"No it's okay," Harry answered, more inclined to answer Hermione's line of questions. "Accidental magic, apparently. I'd never even heard of a glamour before yesterday so I can't have been doing it intentionally. Pomfrey and Dumbledore said it's fine for me to keep it going for now as it's not draining me or anything. I did try and tell them I'm not doing it on purpose though so it's not like I can help it either way. It does go away when I'm sleeping though. Which is how they found out. When I was knocked unconscious it wasn't in place."

"Well I'm glad they know," Hermione said matter of factly. "How bad is it, Harry?" she asked gently.

"Oh, well not that bad. And I'll be fine now that I'm back at school. You know what my relatives are like."

"Actually, Harry, we don't," Ron said. "Not really anyway. You don't tell us much."

"Well you knew enough to send me food over the summer," he retorted.

"Just sweets and cakes, Harry! We didn't know they didn't feed you at all! We just assumed you weren't allowed treats. God, if we'd known they were starving you we would have told someone!" Hermione squeaked.

"They didn't starve me," Harry defended. "I just went to bed without dinner a few times."

"And what exactly would you call that, Harry?" Ron argued. "I'm not sure Pomfrey and Dumbledore would be so concerned over a few missed meals."

Harry sighed. "Well you don't have to worry now. They know about it. And Snape's even brewing me a potion to help. I have to go down before dinner today and get it."

"Snape? Help you?" Ron said in disbelief. "You're going to willingly drink something he has brewed?"

"Professor Snape brews all the infirmary potions, Ronald," Hermione supplied helpfully.

"What?" Ron breathed, looking slightly sick.

"Honestly, who else did you think made them?"

"I just thought Pomfrey ordered them or something."

"Well you thought wrong. It's part of Professor Snape's job as potions master," she said matter of factly.

"Okay, remind me never to drink anything Pomfrey provides again."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald."

"It's not ridiculous!"

"Anyway," Hermione said. "I'm so sorry that's happened to you but I'm glad they know, and that they're helping you. And I'm so glad you told us, Harry." She scooched closer to him and gave him a brief hug.

"Yeah, well, thanks for caring," he said when she released him.

"Don't thank us for that, mate, please don't. And what's gonna happen to those dickhead relatives of yours? Surely you can't go back there if they don't even feed you."

"Ronald! Language!"

"Oh come off it, Hermione. They are dickheads if they could do that to Harry."

Harry offered a weak smile. "I'm not sure. We haven't really discussed it. Although I think Dumbledore was hoping to discuss it in my meeting with him today, but I sort of ran out on him."

"Harry! He's just trying to help you."

"I know, I know. But I did ask not to go back at the end of last year but he said I had to. What's going to be different this time?"

"But surely now he knows what they're capable of he'll change his mind. You can come live with me, I know my parents would love to have you."

"Or me," Hermione offered.

"Well, I really did beg him last time and it didn't seem to make a difference. I just can't face him if he says I have to go back there anyway. But thanks, guys. Really. I'll definitely try and ask him."

"Good," Ron said. "And what Hermione said, thanks for trusting us. You know you can tell us anything."

Harry just nodded and stood up from the desk abruptly. "C'mon, let's go back to the common room, I want to make a start on Sprout's essay before dinner."

Hermione sprung up straight away, needing no more prompting than the promise of homework. But Ron groaned loudly and Harry had to grab his arm and pull him off the desk to get him moving.

***

After a couple of hours quietly working on their homework, Harry left his friends to make his way down to the dungeons to collect his potion. Ron looked up as Harry left and caught Hermione's eye.

"What the hell do we do, 'Mione? I can't believe those Muggles."

"Don't say those Muggles like that, Ron. You can't lump all Muggles together."

"Okay, I can't believe Harry's dickhead relatives then. That better?"

Hermione chose to ignore Ron's sarcastic response.

"I know we suspected something but I really didn't think it was that they didn't feed him. I can't imagine how awful that must have been for him. I just really hope the teachers are going to help him."

"I'm sure they will, 'Mione. It already sounds like they're taking it really seriously. I just hope they don't make him go back there."

"We can't let him go back, Ron."

"But what are we supposed to do if they say he has to? Have you forgotten we're only twelve, Hermione?"

"Well we'll get our parents involved. They'd never let him go back."

"That's a good point."

"I can't shake the feeling that he's still holding back from us though. Or that he'd downplaying just how bad it is," Hermione said carefully.

"Yeah, I got that feeling too," Ron agreed.

"I just didn't want to push him to tell us anything he's not ready to yet. Even telling us what he did must have taken a lot of courage."

"Yeah, it's definitely a good step. All we can do is show him we'll be there for him no matter what and hope he'll tell us if there's anything else."

Hermione nodded her agreement as the two friends lapsed into silence, trying to process all they'd learned of their best friend's home life.

***

Reluctantly Harry traipsed down to the dungeons. He was feeling proud of himself that he'd come clean to his friends earlier. He was trying to ignore the little voice in his head that was telling him that he hadn't really come clean as he hadn't told them everything. But he wasn't ready to talk about everything yet. With anyone. Just the thought that Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey suspected anything was enough to make his heart race.

Remembering Madam Pomfrey's instructions, he bypassed the potions classroom and headed further down the corridor to Snape's office. Harry hated being in there. It was crammed with shelves stuffed with creepy things pickled in jars and always felt dark and gloomy. What's more, he'd never once had a pleasant experience in there. He was hoping to spend as little time as possible inside today, just grab the potion and run to catch up with his friends. His instincts told him that probably wouldn't happen.

He loitered outside the door for a few moments before building up the courage and knocking on the door. As he heard Snape's voice drift through the door giving him permission to enter, he inhaled deeply and pushed it open. This was Harry's first time in Snape's office since the beginning of the school year, it seemed just as gloomy as he remembered but Snape did seem to have collected even more slimy and revolting things in glass jars and managed to fit them on the already overstuffed shelves. He shut the door behind him and turned to face the room, catching sight of his potions professor sitting at his desk across the room.

"Mr. Potter," he greeted. "Take a seat," he said, pointedly glancing at a wooden chair across from him. Sighing inwardly, Harry dragged his feet across the room to the indicated seat, the picture of reluctance as his hopes of slipping away quickly were dashed.

Severus observed Potter closely as he came to sit down in front of him. He looked considerably better than he had when he'd dropped him at the hospital wing this morning but still not quite back to the infuriating, unruly child he was accustomed to dealing with.

"You are here for your potion, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, his head bowed, picking at a hangnail on his finger.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you, Potter."

Harry snapped his head up, looking into the dark eyes of his professor. "Madam Pomfrey has expressed to you how to take this potion correctly to maximise its efficiency?"

"Uh, yes, sir."

"Explain to me then, so I can be confident there is no confusion."

"She just said I needed to take it before each meal and to make sure I'm getting a balanced diet as well."

"Correct," Snape said, opening the top drawer in his desk and taking out three glass vials filled with a potion of an off-putting brown, sludgy colour and placing them on the desk between them. "This brew will ensure you are receiving the maximum nutrients from everything you eat as well as working in tandem to stimulate your appetite. One swallow is sufficient before each meal. This," he gestured to the vials, "is a week's worth, after which you will return here and I will provide you with a fresh batch as their potency cannot be maintained for longer than that."

Harry nodded his understanding as he reached across the desk to grab the vials, moving to slip them into his bag.

"You will soon be consuming dinner, will you not?" drawled Snape.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, slightly confused at the question.

"Then I would suggest taking your potion, as I have just instructed you are to do before each meal."

"Oh I thought you meant, like, immediately before."

"There is no need to take it at the table, mere seconds before you eat. You may usually take it in your dorm room before you leave for the Great Hall."

Harry nodded his understanding before depositing two of the three vials into his bag and holding up the third for inspection.

"If you are trying to ascertain its taste through sight alone, let me save you the trouble. It is not pleasant," his professor said impatiently.

Harry flushed slightly as he had been trying to work out if it would taste as horrible as it looked. Before he gave Snape a chance to make another cutting remark, he uncorked the vial and took a swig. It was slimy and cold and lumpy and he couldn't stop himself from gagging. For one terrible moment he thought he might actually be sick all over Snape's desk.

"Now you see why I suggested you do not consume it at the dinner table," Snape said dryly.

"Yes, sir," he gasped, once he was confident the potion wasn't going to make a reappearance.

"I daresay you will get used to it, Potter. Do not use it as an excuse not to take it. Madam Pomfrey will know if you haven't," he added as an afterthought.

"Yes, sir. Thank you," he said, hoping to be dismissed.

"Do not thank me, Potter. But do not waste my time by not taking it. Now, I'm sure you recall me assigning you a detention to be served with Mr. Filch for your transgression into my classroom on Monday."

Harry gulped. He actually had totally forgotten about that. He was weirdly grateful that Snape had just reminded him because he did not want to find out what his professor would do if he missed another detention.

"It has come to my attention," Snape continued, "that Mr. Filch will be otherwise engaged this evening and similarly unavailable for the rest of the week." Harry's eyes widened as he absorbed his professor's words. Did this mean no detention after-all?

"Therefore you will report directly to me after dinner," Harry's hopes were dashed just as quickly as they'd formed. "Is that clear, Potter?"

"Yes, sir. I'll come here straight after dinner," he repeated.

"No dawdling," Snape said sternly. "You are dismissed."

Harry wasted no time putting the partially empty vial of nutrient potion into his bag with the other two full ones and getting to his feet.

Severus slumped ever so slightly in his chair as he watched the boy leave. Since learning that Potter wasn't the pampered prince he had always thought him to be he couldn't bring himself to taunt him during their every encounter as he had done for most of the previous year. Witnessing the child's panic attack had only cemented that feeling.

Elsewhere in the dungeons, as he made his way towards the Great Hall for dinner, Harry was also coming to the conclusion that something between him and his most hated professor had shifted. It had almost been kind of Snape to tell him he didn't need to take his potion at the table in front of everyone where people were bound to ask questions. Although it did feel weird to describe Snape with that word. But Harry couldn't remember a single time last year when a conversation with Snape hadn't ended with snide words or being screamed at. Even though he'd been assigned detention it still hadn't been that bad.

As he made it to the Entrance Hall he silently prayed that things between them stayed somewhat civil, but knowing Snape he would probably go back to his old ways soon. He was most likely just feeling pity towards him after he saw his panic attack he thought glumly.

"Harry, over here!" Hermione's voice broke Harry out of his thoughts as she called from across the hall. He spotted her, Ron and Neville standing just outside the large oak doors to the Great Hall. He made his way over to them, the delicious smells wafting out of the Great Hall made his belly rumble, making him move even quicker.

Chapter Text

"Right," Harry announced, getting to his feet. "I best get down to the dungeons before Snape accuses me of dawdling."

"I thought you said you had detention with Filch tonight, mate?" Ron questioned around a mouthful of treacle tart.

"Yeah, I did. But Snape said Filch is busy so I have to serve detention with him tonight instead."

"Filch? Busy?" Ron said doubtfully, taking another huge bite of his pudding. "What does he ever do except threaten to pickle the first years?"

"Ronald, would it kill you to finish your mouthful before talking?" Hermione said exasperatedly, causing Ron to stick out his treacle covered tongue at her.

"Didn't ask. Don't care," Harry said. "I'd prefer Snape anyway."

"Weirdly, I'm with you there, mate," Ron agreed.

"Okay, I really should go, I'll see you later."

"Bye, Harry. We'll probably work on Professor Lockhart's assignment when you're back."

"Great, looking forward to it," Harry said sarcastically.

On his way down to the dungeons Harry tried his best not to think too hard about the fact that this was technically his first detention with Snape after his first disaster on the first day of term. His pulse tripped over itself as he descended deeper into the castle, the temperature cooling by several degrees, indicating his arrival in the dungeons.

"Shit," Harry muttered to himself as he came to stand outside his least favourite classroom door. He couldn't remember if Snape had said to report to his classroom or his office, or maybe he hadn't said either way. He silently prayed that it was the classroom and as it was closer he decided to try his luck.

A moment after knocking, Harry heard Snape giving him permission to enter and he pushed the heavy door open.

"I asked you to report back to me after dinner, Potter," Snape sneered. "As we had that conversation in my office I presumed you would have used a modicum of thought to return there without me having to explicitly spell it out for you."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry replied, not moving from his spot in the open doorway. "I couldn't remember if you'd said here or your office. So I just thought I'd try here first as it's closer."

"Well, my wards altered me to your knock on the classroom door so if you're so desperate to serve your detention in here I'm sure I can find some prep work for you to do."

Harry gulped. So Snape could tell when he was outside.

"Sit here, Potter," Snape demanded, pointing to the workbench directly in front of his desk. The very same one that Harry had sat at last time. Harry stepped forward, scuffing his feet on the floor as he made his way over towards the indicated seat.

"Pick up your feet, Potter," Snape snapped. "Your infernal shuffling is not only wearing on my patience but also wearing out your soles."

Harry jumped, "yes, sir, sorry." He made an effort to make as little noise as possible the rest of the way across the classroom and took his seat. His pulse still thrummed, annoyingly elevated.

Harry sat nervously at the workbench as Snape disappeared briefly into the student store cupboard and reappeared with a large pail in hand. He unceremoniously dumped the pail on the bench in front of Harry with a loud thunk. Harry peered over the rim and grimaced. The pail was filled with what looked to him like a number of slimy frogs with a sort of lump protruding from their head.

"These are horned toads, Potter," Snape said. "You will be disembowelling and preserving them. I will demonstrate the correct technique once only, after which you will finish the rest." Snape once again disappeared into the store cupboard, returning with a number of supplies which he placed on the workbench in front of them.

Harry watched a little reluctantly as Snape picked up the scalpel he'd just collected and showed him exactly how to separate the toads from their bowels and store them in a glass jar filled with a preservative potion.

"Three toads per jar, Potter," Snape instructed, as he dropped his finished toad into the glass jar. "There are additional jars in the store cupboard as you require them. Do not spill the preservative within them, especially not on your skin. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Proceed then," he said, and swept away to sit at his desk where he busied himself immediately with a stack of parchment.

Harry attempted to steady himself with a few deep breaths before picking up the scalpel that Snape had put down and clumsily beginning on his first toad. It took him a considerably longer amount of time to separate the toad from its bowel than Snape had taken but he felt morbidly pleased for a second when he plopped his first attempt into the jar alongside Snape's demonstration.

He looked up, hoping to see some acknowledgment from his professor, before remembering exactly which professor had set him this task and that receiving even a tiny hint of praise would be unimaginable. He quickly jolted his head back down and grabbed his second toad from the pail and began the finicky process all over again.

After he'd filled the jar with the third toad and carefully screwed on the lid, he glanced towards the clock hanging on the wall behind Snape's desk and winced. It had taken him twenty minutes to complete his two toads. If Snape expected him to manage the whole pail, he either needed to start hurrying up or face spending the whole night in the dungeons.

Remembering Snape's instructions, Harry briskly made his way over to the store cupboard to collect more glass jars filled with the preservative potion. To save time on the number of trips he'd have to make back and forth, he started to pile as many as he could carry into his arms.

Spinning quickly, Harry started to make his way back out of the store cupboard. He was so focused, however, on not dropping his precious cargo that he completely neglected to watch for the uneven flagstones. He'd barely taken a few steps before he caught the edge of a particularly protruding flagstone and he stumbled slightly. Only slightly, but it was enough. His arms were so full of the jars that he couldn't possibly hold on tightly to all of them as he staggered, attempting to stay upright. Not even his seeker reflexes could help him as the jars started falling all around him.

Loud smashing from the store cupboard had Snape striding from his desk immediately.

"Potter!" he yelled. But before he could reach the boy, the store room door slammed in his face, causing him to stop abruptly. He grabbed the knob and twisted it furiously, but the door would not budge.

"Open this door, Potter. Now!" But no sound was forthcoming from inside and it took a second for Snape's brain to reconnect.

Cursing himself, he dove his hand into his voluminous robes and whipped out his wand. "Alohomora," he uttered, and the door finally yielded.

Before him Potter was on his hands and knees, surrounded by broken glass, the pungent smell of the preservative potion was overwhelming in the tiny cupboard.

"Up, Potter!" Snape barked. "Get up, now."

But his orders did not break through the boy's hypnotic-like gaze on the floor, as Snape noticed the foolish boy was attempting to collect the pieces of broken glass in his hands.

Brandishing his wand again, he cleared the air of the spilt potion's fumes before crouching down beside the boy, who still hadn't even reacted to his teacher's presence. He cringed to notice he'd already managed to cut himself on the broken glass, coming to the realisation he didn't have the luxury of time to break through to him.

"Potter," he tried again firmly but more quietly than before. "You need to drop the glass and stand up." Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition.

Very slowly, so as not to startle the child, Snape reached out and grasped the boy's wrists firmly. He could feel him trembling. Their contact finally seemed to break through whatever trance Potter had been in and glassy green eyes flicked up to meet cold black ones.

"Drop it," he repeated, whilst simultaneously squeezing the thin wrists in his grip. And finally, on a deep exhale, the boy released the glass he was holding, the pieces tinkling as they hit the stone floor.

Snape wasted no time pulling the boy to his feet and back out into the classroom. He marched him straight over to the sink area and, not wanting to release him yet, spelled on the taps with a wandless charm.

The boy hissed as the water made contact with his broken skin.

"I know it stings, Potter, but you need to flush the potion out."

Harry was beginning to feel more awareness of his surroundings, the cold water helping to focus him back in the real world. His professor's grip was still clamped around his wrists, keeping them under the stream of water. He tugged against him, and finally he was released.

"Keep them there," Snape instructed as he let go. He waited a moment, ensuring the boy followed his instruction before turning and making his way back to the store cupboard. With a wave of his wand the broken glass disappeared, and any remaining spilt potion along with it.

He returned to the sink and reached around to turn the tap off. He grabbed a clean towel from underneath the sink and wrapped it around the boy's hands to stem any further bleeding.

"Go and sit back down," he ordered. The boy obeyed him silently. Snape pulled open a cupboard above the sink and selected a colourless vial. Returning to where Potter sat, he pulled out the adjoining chair and sat next to him, placing the vial on the desk in front of him. His head was bowed but his towel wrapped hands were held out on the desk in front of him.

Not wanting to startle the boy, Snape spoke uncharacteristically softly, "eyes up, Mr. Potter."

He lifted his head and glanced towards his professor.

Once Potter could watch his movements, Snape reached out and began to unwind the towel, revealing his cut palms. There was only the slightest spotting of blood on the towel, and on closer inspection the cuts were not as deep as Snape'd been expecting.

He uncorked the vial he'd selected and heard the boy suck in his breath. He glanced up and caught the fearful look on Potter's face.

"Just a mild antiseptic," he said matter of factly.

Not giving him a chance to object, he poured it slowly over the wounds. After realising it didn't so much as burn Potter let out the breath he'd been holding.

Reaching out slowly once again, Snape grasped a limp wrist in his hand.

"I'll heal the cuts now," he explained.

Without saying a word, Snape touched his wand to the outside of each small cut and Harry watched on in amazement as they sealed before his eyes. Once every cut on one hand had been healed, Snape released the boy's wrist and picked up the other, repeating his wand movements. Once he was satisfied with his healing efforts, Snape vanished the soiled towel and empty vial.

He got to his feet slowly and swept back around to sit at his desk so they were facing each other directly. Dark eyes bore into bright green ones and he heard an audible gulp. Now that the situation had been handled and the boy's wounds healed, Snape could feel his anger returning at his foolish actions. Before he began berating the child, he tried to remind himself of the reasons he could non longer rant and rave at him in the way he used to.

"I'm really really sorry, Professor," Harry began. "I swear, I didn't mean to break-"

Snape held up a hand to silence the babbling boy.

"Whilst I am not pleased that your ineptitude resulted in smashed supplies and wasted potions, that is not the reason I am angry." Harry shivered at the man's admission and sincere tone.

"Did I not tell you to take care not to spill the potion?"

He waited until the boy gave him a verbal response.

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered.

"What was that, Potter? Speak up."

"Yes, sir," Harry said more forcefully.

"And did I not stipulate further that it was especially important for you not to get it on your skin?"

"Yes, sir."

"And yet, instead of informing me immediately that you had done so, you took it upon yourself to attempt to pick up broken glass. A task which is inadvisable even when said glass is not covered in toxic potion," as they rehashed the boy's actions Snape could feel his temper rising.

"I-I just thought-"

"No, Potter, you did not think," Snape interrupted harshly. "If you had put a modicum of thought into your actions I wouldn't have had to spend my time cleansing a toxic potion out of superficial cuts in your hand! A potion that preserves tissue. Did you really think allowing it to seep into an open wound on your hand would be wise?"

"I'm sorry," Harry offered.

"I do not want nor need your apologies, Potter," Snape snapped. "What I need from you is for you to listen and heed what I say. Something which you have never excelled at."

"I do listen," Harry defended, the words tumbling out of his mouth once he'd gotten started. "I knew you'd be angry that I'd messed up, I just wanted to clear up the mess I'd made and I was rushing because-"

"Has rushing ever been something I have permitted in my classroom?"

"No, sir."

"Potion-making is a subtle art, Potter. An exact science. The margins of error are incredibly thin. Rushing is not conducive to the process."

There was that word again, conducive. Harry still had no clue what it meant.

The silence hung between them as neither of them spoke. Taking a breath, Snape continued.

"We must also address the way you locked yourself in the cupboard."

"I didn't do that," Harry said quickly.

"Is that so?" Snape said snidely.

Harry nodded emphatically. "I wasn't even close to the door. And I didn't use my wand either, it was out here on the desk. And besides, I don't even know a locking spell."

"Hm," Snape considered the boy in front of him. As an expert Legilimens Snape could often tell when he was being lied to and the boy was sincere in his denial.

"Perhaps another bout of accidental magic," the potions master commented.

"Another, sir?"

"Your glamour."

Harry blanched at his teacher's direct approach.

"How-how do you know about that, sir?" he breathed.

"The Headmaster informed me."

Harry could feel betrayal settling low in his stomach at this information.

"But even if he hadn't, I would have worked it out eventually. I only had not considered it as I did not think you capable of such a charm."

Harry squinted at his professor, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not.

"Well, Potter," he said, getting to his feet. "As disemboweling toads has proved too challenging a task for you I suppose I had better find you something else." Snape once again disappeared into the store cupboard and returned with an enormous jar of dung beetle eyes.

"Sort these into size, Potter," was his only instruction, as he swept back to his desk.

Harry stared at the jar in confusion but obediently screwed off the lid and plucked out a few eyes. They were cold and squishy and he shuddered slightly. He glanced back up at Snape but he was once again engrossed in a stack of parchment, probably leaving nasty comments on a review test he'd sprung on unsuspecting students in their first lesson of the year, Harry thought to himself.

He sighed but eventually set about the task he'd been given, lining up the eyes he already held in his newly healed palms before reaching for another handful.

The silence gave Harry some time to think, and at the forefront of his mind was the way Snape had reacted to another one of his fumbles. Although the man had been angry, he hadn't screamed in his face as Harry had come to expect. He'd healed him, explained why what Harry had done was bad and then set him up with a different task. If it wasn't for his snide comments, Harry would almost be convinced it was a different person in disguise as Snape. Harry was sure there had to be a potion that could do that.

Snape's train of thought was along the same lines as he contemplated the stack of parchment in front of him. He was pleased with his handling of Potter. He wasn't a man accustomed to reigning in his temper, especially when it came to Potter. But he'd avoided getting too riled up, the boy had avoided another potential panic attack that Snape had been wary of when he'd seen the boy's trembling in the store cupboard. And to end the whole fiasco he had successfully redirected the child to another, albeit pointless task.

Harry lost track of time as he silently worked his way through the jar of eyes, that is until one slipped out of his grasp and rolled away from him and dropped off the end of his workbench. He dived off his chair after it.

"Got you," he whispered as he grabbed it, although he squeezed it between his fingers a little too tightly and it burst.

"Oh ew," he breathed as the vitreous fluid trickled down his fingers.

"What are you doing on the floor, Mr. Potter?" came Snape's snide voice.

Harry jumped and popped back up to his feet.

"I just dropped one, sir," he explained, holding up the deflated eye so his professor could see.

"I see," Snape commented. "Back to your seat and return the eyes you have sorted back into the jar."

"Sir?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Do as I have said, Potter."

"But-but, don't you want to keep them sorted?"

"No," he said shortly. "Now do not make me repeat myself again, Potter. You were lauding your listening skills earlier this evening. And yet here you are again, refusing to listen."

"I'm listening," Harry snapped. "I just don't understand."

"Watch your tone, Potter," Snape said dangerously. "I will not tolerate that attitude."

Harry seemed to deflate at Snape's tone and trudged back to his desk, grabbing fistfuls of his painstakingly sorted piles and shoving them back into the jar. A fair few more bursting as he was less than careful.

"I wouldn't think you would be so quick to be careless with more of my ingredients," Snape said offhandedly as he watched the boy sulk.

"Sorry," he muttered insincerely, screwing the lid back on the restored jar.

"If you're quite finished with your little temper tantrum, Potter, retake your seat."

Harry barely managed to hold his tongue to argue he wasn't having a tantrum.

Once he was sat back down, he glared up at his potions master, waiting for whatever was coming next. The dark look in his professor's eyes gave him pause though. He had been incredibly lenient with him so far. He really shouldn't push his teacher but he was having a difficult time squashing his temper into submission. It wasn't a tantrum though. He wasn't a baby.

"As you showed me that you were unable to complete a productive task, I set you a menial one, as that is all you have proven you are capable of." Harry opened his mouth to argue. "Do not even think of interrupting me, Potter. Do not speak, listen. As your superior it is my job to instruct and yours to listen and obey. You seem to have forgotten that fact, Potter. I am not in the habit of repeating myself and I will no longer tolerate your defiance and disobedience."

Harry's cheeks flushed slightly. He wasn't trying to be disobedient, he just wanted to understand why before he did something sometimes. But now that Snape had explained it it was sort of obvious. Of course he didn't really need his dung beetle eyes sorted by size. You're an idiot, Harry, he thought woefully.

Snape watched as the boy absorbed his words, he finally seemed to be getting through to him.

"Am I understood?" Snape interrupted the boy's musings.

"Understood, sir."

"You are dismissed, Potter."

Sure he had been in for a much longer lecture, Harry gratefully got to his feet and headed for the door. He turned back just as he pulled it open.

"I am sorry, sir. About the jars."

"I know, Potter," he responded tiredly. "Off you go."

He sighed in relief as he was finally obeyed without question and Potter closed the door behind him. It was going to be a long year.

Chapter Text

Severus was finally alone in his living room, enjoying his nightly apéritif and the quiet crackle of his fireplace when a knock on the door once again dispelled his plans of an evening of solitude.

He grudgingly rose from his comfortable position on the sofa and crossed the room to pull open the door to his quarters.

"Headmaster," he greeted, stepping to the side. "Do come in."

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore replied as he swept gracefully into the room. "I do apologise for the late hour."

"It is no matter," Severus dismissed. "Have a seat," he gestured to the sofa opposite the one he had just vacated. "Can I order you a drink?"

"Ah, yes, my boy. Would you trouble the elves for a dragon barrel brandy?" Dumbledore requested as he sat.

Severus nodded and made his way over to the fireplace and threw in some floo powder. He ordered the headmaster's drink and a second vermouth for himself. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

Before he'd even managed to retake his seat, their respective drinks had shimmered into existence atop the dark mahogany side tables beside each sofa.

"There is no need for you to walk to the depths of the dungeons when my floo is not warded against your entrance, Albus."

"Ah," Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, as headmaster, no floo in the castle is able to be warded against my entry, however I would not assume that means I am welcome to come and go as I please in my staff's personal quarters. Besides, the exercise does me good." He paused to take a sip of his brandy. "Excellent," he announced.

Severus did likewise, tipping the last sip of his existing drink into his mouth, savouring the tart flavour of his vermouth.

"Is there something I can do for you, Headmaster, or is this merely a social call?" Severus asked as he put down his empty tumbler and picked up the fresh one.

Dumbledore eyed his potions master closely. "As much as I enjoy your company, my boy, there are a few things I would like to discuss with you."

Severus waved his hand, gesturing for the older man to continue as he took another swig.

"As you are aware I have had a few appointments this evening. The first with the young Mr. Malfoy."

Severus nodded, intrigued to hear how Albus had dealt with the boy. "Is he suitably chastised?"

"Oh I would say so," Dumbledore said mildly. "I enlightened him to the fact that tomorrow morning I will be informing his parents of the situation."

Severus paused in the action of taking another sip of his drink. He had himself considered informing his godson's parents, a consequence that was reserved for the most serious of transgressions. Coming directly from the headmaster, however, that was bound to be even more impactful.

"I take it that did not go down well."

"You would be correct."

"Lucius will be furious with him," Severus stated. "The fact that it will be you personally speaking to him about Draco's behaviour will not be received well. His expectation is that Draco comport himself with the highest decorum at school and by extension, in public. It is in their best interest that they distance themselves from the Dark Lord and maintain their innocence in public, coming after Potter will not further that image."

"I am well aware of Lucius' public position," Dumbledore mused, swirling the amber liquid around his glass. "But if what you inferred over the summer is true, Severus, that Voldemort's followers mean to cause Harry harm," he paused momentarily. "They need to be aware that the boy is fully under our protection and that any attempts to do him harm will not be tolerated. So additionally to informing the Malfoys, I will also be speaking with the parents of Messrs Crabbe and Goyle," he said pointedly.

Severus tried his best not to flinch at Dumbledore's use of the Dark Lord's name. But he was impressed with the man's thinking. While many thought Albus Dumbledore was losing his touch as he aged, Severus knew better. The man was still sharp as a whip.

"A subtle warning, Albus," Snape approved. "Whilst I am not convinced Crabbe or Goyle's parents will be able to read between the lines of your disapproval of their son's transgressions, I have no doubt Lucius will."

"That is sufficient. As I have no doubt that, as with their children, it is Mr. Malfoy who is in charge."

"You would be correct. Speaking of which, I have informed Crabbe and Goyle that they will be joining Draco in his week of detentions with Argus. Whilst I am aware that Draco was the mastermind behind abandoning an injured Potter, there is no denying their involvement."

"Very good, Severus."

"So we can draw a line under this fiasco?"

"Ah, well I have seen fit to bestow Mr. Malfoy with an additional punishment."

"Yes?"

"I have informed him he will not be allowed to represent the Slytherin quidditch team this term, as I believe was his intention."

Severus closed his eyes. This was another punishment he had considered for Draco. But with Lucius purchasing brand new Nimbus 2001 brooms for the entire team, he hadn't thought it strategic to test his relationship with the elder Malfoy.

"I assume he did not take that well either," Severus replied finally.

"No," Dumbledore said succinctly. "But as it is not yet common knowledge that Mr. Malfoy was to accept a position on the team, I'm sure any embarrassment of being removed will be spared."

"We shall see."

"My apologies for disrupting your quest to recover the cup, my boy," Albus said, his eyes briefly gleaming with his characteristic twinkle.

"No, you are quite right to do so, Albus," Severus said wearily. "I too would have removed him myself if I did not want to incur Lucius' wrath. I presume you possess no such qualms?"

"You would be correct, my boy. Now, on to my second appointment of the evening. I mentioned to you that I would be discussing with Poppy the best way to move forward with Harry?"

"Yes," Severus said tightly.

"And you would still wish to be kept informed?"

"I suspect it is you who wants me to be kept informed, Albus. But yes, I also think it prudent that I am informed so that I am in a position to offer any expertise."

"There isn't too much to update you with. You are already aware of Poppy's prescription of a nutrient potion as you are the one brewing it."

Severus nodded in the affirmative.

"For now we are giving him space to get used to the idea that we are aware of the situation. Poppy informs me that she has given Harry a few days to consider the matter on how best he would like to proceed. A feeling of control in the situation is apparently an excellent way to begin healing."

Severus nodded once more.

"I believe she has requested he return to her at some point on Friday to discuss whether he has made any decisions or if he wants to talk through any options in more detail. It is my understanding that however he chooses to move forward he will be kept under close watch, both by Poppy and his Head of House. Not to mention myself."

"Yes, how did Minerva react?" Severus questioned.

"As you would expect. She is heartbroken for Harry, furious with his relatives, and horrified that we missed that he was suffering."

"Did we miss it?" Severus wondered aloud. "I have noticed he is significantly jumpier this year than I remember him being last. I also did not detect a glamour in effect last year. Although I do find it highly unlikely that any abuse only started this summer."

"I'm sure we will find out just how badly we have failed him when he is ready to talk. But even if it did only start this summer or, Merlin forbid, for the entirety of his childhood spent in that house, I was the one who placed him with people who would do him harm."

"There is no point speculating now, Albus, before the boy has shared any more details," Severus attempted to placate the older wizard.

"Quite right, my boy," he said, before swigging the remainder of the amber liquid in his glass.

"Another, Albus?"

"No, thank you, Severus, but don't let that stop you," he said, gesturing to Severus' second empty glass.

Severus paused for a moment before making a decision and getting to his feet to order another drink from the kitchens.

"Speaking of his relatives," Severus said as he returned to his seat, glass shimmering into existence once again on the side table. "What do you plan to do about them?"

"Ah, well I will need to hear from Harry before I make any rash decisions regarding my retaliation on his behalf."

"I hardly see why that is necessary, Headmaster," Severus declared.

Dumbledore smiled wryly at his potions master. "When we are fully aware of the situation, then I will act."

"You must be prepared for the instance in which he does not tell you everything, Albus. It is more than likely that he may not want to share all the details that you wish for."

"You are of course correct, Severus. And I would never force him too. I just hope there is someone he feels comfortable enough with to allow them to help him through this."

"He adores you, Albus," Severus said faintly. "You are the one he would trust to share this with, I am sure."

"But I am the one who sent him back this summer," Dumbledore admitted, closing his eyes. "He asked if he could stay over the summer, but I assured him he would be safe in Surrey. How wrong it appears I was."

"Students have never been permitted to reside in the castle over the summer, Albus, not even Golden Boys. You could not have known."

The two men sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the crackle of the fire, seemingly lost in their respective thoughts.

"I do appreciate your counsel, Severus," Dumbledore said eventually, breaking the silence. "Especially at this late hour."

"Any time, Headmaster," Severus said sincerely.

"But for now I will leave you to enjoy the remainder of your evening," he stood, prompting Severus to do the same.

"Goodnight, my boy," he said, making his way over to the door.

"Goodnight, Albus."

***

Harry slept fitfully the night following his detention, he couldn't switch his brain off and he found himself continually tossing and turning. He felt too hot so he tried opening his hangings to get a little more air. He felt thirsty so took a few sips of water from the glass beside his bed. He even tried reciting History of Magic facts in his head to try and drop off from boredom. But nothing seemed to work and the longer he tried the more frustrated he got. The sounds of his dorm mates sleeping deeply and snoring faintly, did nothing to improve his mood. He finally gave up trying to get back to sleep when he could see the beginnings of dawn through the window, the inky sky gradually giving way to the first rays of light.

He slipped out of bed, grabbing his Transfiguration textbook that he'd left on his bedside table and padded out of his dormitory quietly. The flagstones were chilly against his bare feet as he made his way down the stairs to the common room and he briefly considered turning back to grab a thick pair of socks but he didn't want to risk waking up anyone by routing around in his trunk.

As he expected, the common room was empty. He curled up on his favourite sofa, nearest to the fireplace although it was sadly not alight at this time of the morning. He propped open the textbook on his knee and attempted to review the chapter for his upcoming lesson.

But just as he couldn't switch off his brain to sleep, he couldn't wrangle it to concentrate on the words on the page in front of him. He also couldn't organise his thoughts and feelings enough to even begin to think clearly about how his conversation with Madam Pomfrey would go. He was so conflicted. He hated that anyone knew anything about his home life but at the same time felt relieved that he wasn't hiding such a huge secret. He couldn't imagine spilling every detail to anyone but at the same time he felt desperate to share it. But the thought of anyone else finding out, anyone outside of the circle of teachers that already knew filled him with dread. He felt like a complete mess.

He must have been lost in his thoughts for far longer than he'd realised as before he knew it, the dim light of the empty common room had brightened considerably and students were filing in in dribs and drabs. Giving up on preparing for Transfiguration, Harry plodded back up the steps to his dorm room to get ready with everyone else.

His sleepless night didn't help with maintaining any sort of concentration during his lessons. He felt dazed through History of Magic but was able to get away with it as it wasn't like Professor Binns was going to notice, but he wasn't so lucky with Professor McGonagall. She had to call his name several times to catch his attention when she noticed he was gazing out the window. It wasn't until Ron elbowed him sharply in the ribs that he snapped back to reality and flushed when he realised the whole class was staring at him.

He tried his best to focus when Professor McGonagall continued with her lecture, explaining the importance of forming a trusting relationship with their latest victim, a baby porcupine, as apparently it was easier to practise Transfiguration on a willing subject. Harry didn't feel like forming a relationship with anyone right now, especially a porcupine that he was going to be attempting to turn into a pincushion.

Harry was predictably unsuccessful in this task, and his porcupine remained decidedly porcupiney for the entire lesson. It appeared completely unfazed at his continual attempts to turn it into an inanimate object and even began to sharpen its teeth by gnawing on the wood of his desk and he had to call his professor over in a panic before it did any real damage.

As Professor McGonagall dismissed the class for their first break of the morning she gently requested for Harry to stay behind.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry was puzzled as he walked to stand in front of her desk.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Potter?"

"Er, yes ma'am?," he offered, but it came out like a question.

"You seem more distracted than usual this morning," she commented.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he answered meekly. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

Harry couldn't quite meet his teacher's eye, he knew she would be looking at him sadly and he couldn't bear it.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Harry?" she asked gently.

It wasn't often his stern head of house used his first name. He met her gaze with surprise and his suspicions were confirmed. It wasn't quite pity in her eyes but it wasn't far off.

"Uh, I don't think so, Professor. Thank you, though."

"If you have need of me you know where I am. Anytime, Harry."

Harry nodded his understanding and hastened out of the classroom when she signalled he was dismissed.

"What was that about?" Hermione hissed as soon as he exited the classroom and spotted Hermione and Ron waiting for him just across the corridor.

"Oh, just telling me off for not paying attention earlier." Harry tried to console himself with the fact it was half true.

"You do seem more distracted than usual," she parroted their professor.

"You're starting to sound like McGonagall, 'Mione. It's actually quite scary."

"Hmph," the girl flounced away, knowing full well the two boys would catch up with her.

***

The soft snores of his friends filled the dorm and Harry sighed deeply and slumped more heavily against his pillows. He didn't feel slightly tired yet, even considering the previous restless night. It was incredibly annoying that he'd struggled to stay awake and focus all day yet when it was actually time to sleep again he couldn't drop off.

Not wanting to spend another night tossing and turning he decided to try something new. Without too much thought into what he was about to do he slipped out of bed and kneeled at the end of his bed to open his trunk. Cringing slightly at the creak of the lid he routed around inside and pulled out his most prized possession. He threw the cloak over his shoulders and tiptoed out of his dorm room.

The common room was deserted, highlighting just how late it was, but Harry still did his best to make as little noise as possible. He pushed open the portrait hole making sure to push it firmly shut behind him. The Fat Lady grumbled in her sleep but didn't actually wake up.

He stood awkwardly in the empty corridor. Now that he was actually out here and didn't feel so trapped in his dormitory he wasn't sure where to go. The stone floor was cold against his feet, he'd forgotten to pull some socks on again. With no particular destination in mind he set off walking, making sure the cloak covered him completely as he moved.

Harry loved the castle at night, and only felt a little bit bad that he was out of bed when he shouldn't be. He felt better already, wandering the empty corridors, not having to worry about getting jostled by other students or racing around to make it to a lesson on time.

With his new-found sense of freedom, Harry finally felt calm enough to properly consider his upcoming meeting with Madam Pomfrey. He wondered if she would really let him decide what to do, or if it was another promise by an adult that would inevitably be broken. He knew he didn't want to explain everything that had happened to him to a stranger, that felt way too scary. But he just couldn't think who he'd truly feel comfortable talking to that he already knew.

He came back to awareness of his surroundings after quite a while of aimless wandering and noticed that whatever corridor he was in was not one that was familiar to him. This wasn't too unusual, the castle was so big there was no way Harry and his friends had explored it all. But he felt slightly on edge given that it was late at night and he was on his own and he really shouldn't be out of bed.

Feeling hopelessly lost as he continued forward he decided that it might be better to attempt to retrace his steps to more familiar territory instead. He turned back down the drafty corridor when all of a sudden he felt his blood run cold as a sinister voice echoed all around him.

Must kill...rip...tear...

Harry felt his whole body freeze, all apart from his heart which immediately began pounding in his chest. He felt paralysed with fear, his breath stuck in his throat.

Hungry...must kill...blood...

The second time he felt surrounded by the voice, Harry's limbs unstuck and he bolted down the corridor. He didn't pay attention to where he was going, he just needed to escape. He no longer cared if his cloak was covering him completely, his bare feet were most definitely exposed and slapping noisily against the stone floor as he ran.

"POTTER!"

A shout behind him broke through his panic but he didn't pay it any attention. He felt his fear continue to rise and running seemed like the only escape. He registered more muffled shouting from behind him but he couldn't decipher the words through the roaring in his ears.

All of a sudden, a barrier sizzled into existence just in front of him and he was going too fast to avoid colliding with it. He smacked into it with a thud that echoed down the stone corridor and he fell to the floor, the impact knocking out what little breath he had left.

"What is the meaning of this, Potter?" barked the voice, who he now recognised as Snape, as the man snatched his cloak away that was barely covering him after his collapse.

But Harry couldn't respond, he was doubled over, clutching his chest, his breaths were coming so quickly, and his shoulder ached in the spot where he'd collided with the barrier.

"Breathe," Snape instructed, once he realised the boy was in difficulty.

Harry tried, he really did. But he just couldn't force his body to comply.

He felt his vision start to blur around the edges, his chest so constricted it ached terribly.

A sharp crack between his shoulder blades caused him to suck in a gasp of air in shock. Sweet oxygen flooded his lungs and his vision began to clear almost immediately.

Snape was crouched beside him, cloak clutched in his hand and Harry came to the realisation that it must have been his teacher responsible for the shock. He whipped his head around, up and down the corridor trying to identify who or what could be responsible for the chilling voice and if it had followed him. It couldn't have been Snape, he was sure of it, he'd run quite a way before he'd encountered his teacher.

"Keep breathing, Potter," Snape reminded him, noticing the boy's distraction.

Harry found himself able to obey his command now, his breaths coming much easier now that he felt he'd been reset.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, Snape was satisfied the boy had recovered and pulled him roughly to his feet.

"You do not run from me, Mr. Potter," Snape said angrily, stooping so his face was uncomfortably close to Harry's. "When I tell you to stop, you stop."

"I didn't hear you," Harry protested weakly.

"I find that hard to believe," Snape snapped. "You are in a lot of trouble, Mr. Potter. It is long after curfew, and you are out of bounds."

Harry chose not to respond, his shoulder was still throbbing and he felt chilled to the bone standing in the cold corridor in only his thin pyjamas and with the sweat produced from his ordeal cooling over his whole body. He started shivering, almost gently at first but soon his whole body was shaking violently and his teeth began to chatter.

Snape took in the state of the boy in front of him, growling lightly.

"Follow me, Mr. Potter," he ordered, as he stalked off down the corridor.

Chapter Text

Unlike Harry, Snape seemed perfectly aware of where they were in the castle, and Harry stumbled after him in a daze, dreading whatever his Potions Master had in store. However, it wasn't long before his teacher came to a halt beside a dusty classroom door and pushed it open.

"In," he instructed.

Harry just looked at him in confusion, sure Snape had been taking him to be reprimanded by either his head of house or even Dumbledore.

"It is a simple instruction, Potter," snapped Snape.

Harry's brain switched back on and he hurried to obey, stepping past Snape to enter the classroom. Rows of dusty desks filled the room. Harry wondered absently why the castle had so many disused classrooms but was drawn from his thoughts as he heard the door snick closed behind his professor. He watched as Snape moved forward to pass him and place his cloak on one of the desks at the front before turning back to face him. Harry willed his heart to stop pounding so damn fast.

"Hold out your arm."

Now Harry was truly confused.

"I am not in the habit of repeating myself as you well know, Mr. Potter," he snapped as Harry hesitated again.

Harry held out his arm, his confusion not helping with trying to calm himself.

"Not that one," Snape sighed irritably. "Are you being deliberately obtuse, Potter? The arm you have been cradling awkwardly since you foolishly ran from me and came face to face with the consequence."

Harry glanced down at his other arm, he was holding it against his stomach and now his attention had been drawn to it, he noticed his shoulder was still throbbing painfully. He'd somehow forgotten in the dread of where Snape was leading him.

He attempted to hold it out as Snape had instructed, but his shoulder protested painfully, causing him to groan. Snape reached out slowly so as not to startle the boy and took hold of his wrist, helping him to stretch it out the rest of the way.

"How does that feel?" Snape questioned, after his arm was fully extended.

"Hurts," Harry breathed, panting a little.

"Gibby," Snape called and a small creature with big eyes and bat-like ears appeared out of thin air, just to the left of Harry.

Startled, he flinched, and in his alarm wrenched his arm out of Snape's grip.

"Ow," he gasped, once again cradling his arm against his stomach.

"Fetch an anti-inflammatory elixir from my stores, Gibby," Snape requested.

"Yes, Master," the creature, who Harry assumed was named Gibby, squeaked before disappearing again.

"She will appear again momentarily, Potter, so do prepare yourself," his professor commented dryly.

"What was that, sir?"

"A house-elf."

But before Harry could ask any follow up questions, Gibby reappeared and handed Snape a dark purple vial. A muttered "that'll be all, Gibby," from Snape and the creature popped out of existence once more.

Harry eyed the vial that Snape was now holding out, unwilling to blindly accept that he had to take it.

"This is non-negotiable, Mr. Potter," Snape asserted, taking a small step towards Harry to press the vial into his good hand.

Not seeing a way out, Harry reached out to grasp the vial, tipping its contents quickly into his mouth before he had a chance to catch a whiff of it. He could detect hints of ginger as he swallowed and thankfully this particular concoction was free of any suspicious lumps.

Snape reached out for the empty vial and vanished it with a flick of his wand as soon as Harry handed it over.

Almost instantaneously the pain in Harry's shoulder receded and he no longer had to hold his arm so stiffly.

Snape reached out once more and Harry understood this time and placed his wrist in Snape's open palm, letting the man stretch his arm out fully.

"How does it feel now, Potter?"

"Much better, sir, thank you."

Snape nodded and released Harry's wrist. "Rotate your arm in a circle."

Harry complied immediately and Snape looked satisfied when Harry managed a few rotations without a grimace of pain.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," Snape ordered.

Harry nervously made his way over to the first row of desks and took a seat. His professor remained standing, which made him feel uneasy, he hated the feeling of being towered over.

"No matter what excuse you may conjure, there is no reason for you to be outside of Gryffindor Tower at this time, Mr. Potter," Snape said.

"I couldn't sleep," Harry protested.

"I just said no excuse would be sufficient, Potter, so I fail to see why you are attempting to justify your actions."

Harry remained silent, he felt too drained to attempt to find the answer that Snape was looking for. He was cold and tired and right now wishing he'd never left his warm bed in the tower, no matter how restless he had felt.

"Why were you running?" Snape suddenly questioned.

"Huh?" Harry said, snapping out of his thoughts but not quite catching the question. Snape's eyes darkened at Harry's response and the boy gulped audibly.

"What was that, Professor?" he tried again.

"Why were you running, Potter?"

"Oh," Harry said, not sure how to respond. He wasn't really sure himself what he'd heard but he was definitely sure he didn't want to share the fact he had heard a voice with Snape.

"I was-I was running from Peeves, sir," Harry invented. "He was being really loud, I think he pushed over a suit of armour or something and I was scared a teacher or Filch might hear and come and investigate so I ran to try and avoid anyone," he trailed off unconvincingly, even to his own ears.

Snape crouched down, so his eyes were level with Harry's.

"You are a terrible liar, Mr. Potter," he stated clearly.

Harry's eyes widened and embarrassingly he felt them fill with tears. His heart started its erratic rhythm once again.

"I'm not- I mean- I really was-" Harry stuttered.

"Enough, Potter," Snape said sharply. "The fact you feel the need to fabricate such a story leads me to believe that there is something you are not revealing. If you are not willing to be truthful with me, you leave me no choice but to uncover that reason for myself."

Harry froze, unsure what his professor was going to do.

"Or perhaps certain privileges will have to be withheld until you are willing to cooperate," he continued snidely. "As Quidditch is an extracurricular activity you must earn the privilege of participating-"

"No, sir, please! You can't-," Harry began desperately.

"Do not interrupt me, Potter," Snape snarled dangerously. "I can and I will prevent you from taking part if you are unwilling to answer my questions truthfully and to my satisfaction."

Harry was trembling, torn between confessing or being barred from one of his favourite things.

"I do not have all night, Potter," Snape snapped, as he watched the boy struggle with his dilemma.

"So be it," Snape sneered, pushing up from his crouched position in front of the boy to tower over him once again. "We are done here, Potter. Up you get. I will be informing your Head of House-"

"Wait! Okay. Just wait, I'll tell you-"

"What did I just say about interrupting me, Potter?" Snape fumed, causing the boy to hang his head. "And addressing me with respect is not optional."

"I'm sorry, Professor. I'll tell you," he tried again, weakly.

"Eyes up, Mr. Potter. Addressing me with respect also means you have the decency to look at me whilst you are speaking to me, not at your knees."

Harry took a deep breath and lifted his head as requested.

"Go on," prompted his professor, impatiently.

"Just give me a second, sir," Harry pleaded, trying to figure out the best way to reveal what he'd heard.

"I will not," Snape declared. "You've had a considerable number of seconds already, Potter."

"I heard a voice," Harry admitted softly.

"Elucidate."

"Huh?"

"Potter," Snape growled.

"Sorry, sir, what does, uh, elucirate mean?"

"Elucidate, Potter. And it means to explain further. You heard a voice, what kind of voice, what did it say? If I have to drag each detail out of you I will be most displeased."

"Oh, right, well I don't really know how to explain what kind of voice it was, sir. But I didn't see anyone so it's almost like the person who was speaking was invisible. But it said awful things, really awful things, something like it wanted to kill someone, tear someone apart..." he trailed off, not sure how to continue.

Snape observed the child in front of him closely. He was still trembling slightly, from fear of what he'd just divulged or the fact he was clad only in his thin pyjamas, Snape couldn't tell. But he knew he was telling the truth this time, the boy practically reeked of honesty. But just what had Potter stumbled across this time? And why was it always this particular child in the middle of danger?

"This is the first time you've heard this voice, Potter?"

"Yes, sir. Well, I heard it twice just now. The first time I sort of froze but when I heard it again that's when I ran."

"Very well," Snape sighed heavily, trying to decide on the best course of action. "I will inform the headmaster. And you will inform a member of staff immediately if you hear it again."

"Okay."

"Try again."

"Yes, sir."

"I mean it, Potter. Immediately. I do not want to be hearing about it a week later. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded emphatically.

"Up you get then."

"Sir?"

"I am escorting you back to your tower, Mr. Potter. It is laughably beyond curfew."

Harry got to his feet, glancing hopefully at his cloak as his professor retrieved it from the desk he'd placed it on.

"This will be staying in my possession for the foreseeable future," Snape stated, following the boy's gaze.

Harry felt crushed, but he didn't have the energy to argue, he felt so drained. He followed meekly behind his professor as they wound through the empty corridors, although Harry remained tense in anticipation of the return of the voice. But before long, Harry began to recognise his usual route to the Tower and they came to a stop beside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"That'll be fifty points from Gryffindor for breaking curfew, Mr. Potter," Snape declared as he turned to face the boy.

"Fifty?," Harry gasped in shock. He'd never lost that many before. And in the wake of his confession it had somehow slipped his mind that Snape would still punish him for being out after curfew.

"You heard me, Potter. Fifty."

Harry gulped. He was not looking forward to his housemates reaction to the news when they found out he'd lost almost every point they'd managed to earn in the first few days of term.

"If I, or another member of staff, catches you breaking curfew again, you will be removed from your precious Quidditch team. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered.

"It is utterly foolish for you to be wandering the corridors at night. You are not above the rules, Mr. Potter, so stop acting like it. In you go," he instructed as he uttered the password and the Fat Lady grumpily swung open.

Snape watched as the boy clambered through and only after the portrait had thudded closed behind him spun on his heel to continue his nightly patrol.

***

Harry slept miraculously well for the remainder of the night and woke up feeling uncommonly refreshed. His good mood was immediately spoiled however as last night's interaction with Snape outside of the Tower came crashing back and he imagined what reaction awaited him the moment his housemates caught sight of the house point counters on their way to breakfast. He chugged his nutrient potion, gagging slightly as he still hadn't gotten used to the texture, before hurrying to catch up to his dorm mates.

"You alright, mate," Ron asked him as the second year boys stomped down their staircase to the common room. "Looks like you've seen a ghost or something."

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Harry said absentmindedly, trying to plaster a smile on his face. Although he didn't know why he was bothering, everyone would know soon enough and at least Ron and Hermione would expect a full explanation.

As the boys all traipsed down to breakfast with Hermione, Harry attempted to feign nonchalance.

"Goodness!" Hermione exclaimed as soon as the counters came into view from their vantage point at the top of the stairs leading down to the Entrance Hall. Trust Hermione to be the one to notice immediately, Harry thought sourly.

"What?" Ron questioned her.

"The counters. Look!" she pointed frantically.

Harry looked mournfully over and sure enough there were only a few solitary rubies resting in the bottom of the Gryffindor hourglass.

"We must have lost almost fifty points overnight!" Hermione continued, as they all hurried down the stairs to take a closer look, although Harry lagged significantly behind.

The discussion into what incident could have resulted in such an extensive points loss continued on into the Great Hall as the Gryffindors sat down to breakfast. And before long it wasn't just the second years speculating, but what felt like the entire house to Harry.

"Apparently two seventh years went swimming in the lake without any clothes on," volunteered a tiny first year.

"Oh, don't be so ridiculous," Hermione snapped at the boy, causing him to flush instantly.

Harry pushed his breakfast around his plate miserably, and despite Snape's insistence that the potion contained an appetite stimulant he felt like his appetite had all but deserted him as his stomach churned guiltily. Luckily Hermione was too invested in solving the mystery to nag him about eating anything.

Their first lesson of the day was Defense and Harry groaned as they all filed into the classroom and Professor Lockhart energetically reminded them that today was the day that everyone would be performing their poems on his defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf.

"A little practise in the spotlight before the main event on Monday!" Lockhart exclaimed gleefully.

"Have you ever heard of a more insane way to make sure you're the centre of attention?" Ron whispered to Harry about half way through the lesson. Harry just shook his head, not wanting to disturb Ernie Macmillan as he began his performance.

The students went up one by one, some more enthusiastic than others, but Professor Lockhart seemed oblivious to any reluctance and seemingly enjoyed them all.

As they performed in alphabetical order, Ron stood up last and made his way to the front of the class. It was obvious to the entire class he'd rather be anywhere else doing anything else than performing this assignment.

After he'd mumbled through his last few sentences he scurried back to his desk, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

"Very good, everyone, very good!" Lockhart announced, jumping up to stand at the front of the class.

"Definitely some room for improvement," he glanced pointedly at Ron, whose blush worsened. "But all in all, a wonderful effort. As a special surprise I have a copy of my autobiography, Magical Me, to present to the student I thought was best overall. Now everyone was excellent but in fact I think there are two students who stood out," he paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. "Miss Patil and Miss Bones!" he announced, to a smattering of applause. "Come and see me at the end of the lesson and I'll have signed copies for you both."

Ron rolled his eyes but the two girls looked extraordinarily pleased, while Hermione looked devastated.

"I'm so glad that's over," Ron said as soon as they left the classroom.

"It's only going to be worse on Monday," Harry countered.

"It will be if we don't get enough practise in!" Hermione piped up from behind the two boys. "You're free this evening right, Harry?"

"'Mione!" Ron complained. "It's Friday night!"

"So?" she said primly. "We haven't practised nearly enough yet. Tell the other boys we'll go straight from dinner and find an empty classroom so we have plenty of time to work on it before curfew."

"It's only because you're annoyed you didn't win his signed autobiography. I'm not helping you win one with this next assignment. I told you she'd be a nightmare to be in a group with," Ron finished in a whisper to Harry, but Harry was too distracted to react.

Madam Pomfrey hadn't specified a time that she wanted him to report back to the hospital wing and he'd sort of been planning to leave it until the last possible second. But if Hermione expected them to work on their assignment straight after dinner up until curfew he'd have to squeeze in seeing Madam Pomfrey either before dinner or at lunchtime. And he didn't feel ready to go at lunchtime so it would have to be before dinner.

***

The rest of the day flew by, with rumours continuing to fly around Gryffindor as to who had managed to lose fifty points overnight. Harry still hadn't come clean to his friends and he was debating whether he could keep it a secret forever.

Soon enough it was time for Harry to give his friends the slip after their last class of the day, claiming a visit with Hagrid.

"Mr. Potter," the medi-witch greeted him as soon as he pushed open the door to the infirmary. "Come straight on through to my office."

Harry obediently followed her curiously as he'd never actually been inside her office before, despite the number of trips he'd made to the hospital wing. The room felt very much like a continuation of the infirmary, with the same vaulted ceiling, white-washed walls, and lavender smell. The entire back wall was covered in bookshelves which Harry assumed held complex medical texts. There was an oak desk along the adjacent wall where a few green orbs were hovering, bouncing slightly in midair.

"Those are monitoring charms," Madam Pomfrey explained, as she noticed Harry watching them. "Green means everything is fine for now."

Harry nodded his understanding and allowed himself to be directed by the medi-witch over to the opposite wall where two stuffed armchairs were arranged in front of a fireplace.

Harry perched anxiously on the edge of the armchair, unsure how this talk was going to go.

"Now, Harry," Madam Pomfrey started gently. "I understand you might be feeling nervous but just remember I am here to help you, not to force you into anything that you are uncomfortable with. Although I might make some suggestions and recommendations I cannot force you to make any decisions. I will also attempt to keep everything between us confidential, but you understand there might be some things that I will have to share with the headmaster?"

Harry glanced up quickly from where he had been focused on picking at a hangnail on his thumb.

"I will inform you beforehand when that has to happen, okay?"

"Okay," Harry agreed reluctantly.

"How have you been, Harry?"

Harry blanched slightly, the sudden question unexpected. "Okay, I guess," he was focusing on his knees when he imagined Snape's voice in his head chastising him for not respecting the matron by looking at her.

"You've begun taking the nutrient potion?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And have you had any more panic attacks?" she probed gently.

"Uh no, not, um, not really." He didn't think the time in the potions storeroom when he dropped the glass jars really counted and nor did the time when he was running from the mysterious voice, he'd had good reason to panic then so he didn't feel it counted as an attack. Both times Snape had been the one to save him from spiralling completely he thought absently.

"That's good, Harry. Really good. Have you had any thoughts about how you'd like to move forward, any ideas about if there's anyone you'd like to speak with?"

Harry shook his head. "Well, not that I haven't thought about it!" he quickly corrected. "Just that I haven't decided anything."

Madam Pomfrey nodded knowingly. "It's a big decision Harry, I understand that. But I feel that you can't leave it too long, or until you are perhaps struggling again. It's important to make a plan while you're feeling in control." She paused to let the boy absorb what she was saying fully.

"I just can't- I don't want," he trailed off, trying to organise his swirling thoughts.

"It really would be best if there was a trusted adult you think you can speak to. If not, I have plenty of contacts at St. Mungos who are incredibly experienced in this area and who would be more than willing to help you-"

Harry was shaking his head fiercely, "no, no, not a stranger, please. I can't-"

"Okay, Harry, that's fine. Will you take some deep breaths for me, please." She could see the child was struggling, but thankfully he began complying with her request.

"Why don't we go through some options of adults you are familiar with then?" she suggested. "How about Professor F-"

Suddenly words were tumbling out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them, even as he imagined his Potions Professor scolding him for interrupting, "can it- can it be Professor Snape?"

Chapter Text

Poppy Pomfrey had been the Matron at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for over twenty years. In her tenure, she had seen her students in a whole host of shocking and bizarre circumstances; one had managed to turn themselves into a singing teapot, one had swallowed an entire handful of knuts, and another who had attempted to fly with one foot on two separate brooms and subsequently broken seven bones, to name but a few. In other words, she thought she had gotten to the point where nothing her students could do would surprise her anymore. But here was little Harry Potter, and he was little, asking if the infamously terrifying Potions Master could be his confidant.

"N-nevermind," Harry stuttered, noticing the medi-witch's hesitation. "It's a stupid idea."

"No, no, Harry," assured Madam Pomfrey, snapping from her thoughts to focus on her patient. "If Professor Snape is amenable then certainly that can be arranged if you wish."

"Who am I kidding," Harry muttered, mostly to himself. "He'll never say yes."

"Why do you say that, Harry?"

Harry huffed and slumped back fully into the plush armchair. "I dunno," he began lamely, chewing on his thumb. "I just think he'll say no."

"Then can I ask why you suggested him?" she asked gently.

Harry found this question even more difficult to answer. He didn't even really know why himself, the words had just tumbled out of his mouth.

"He's been weirdly nicer to me recently," Harry tried. "Even though he's taken loads of points and given me detention, he's helped me as well. Making me that potion and helping me with my, y'know..."

"Your panic attack?" Madam Pomfrey supplied.

"Yeah, that," he paused. "I know it sounds stupid. But he has helped me a lot already. And I can't think of anyone else I feel like talking to. No offence," he added, flushing as he considered how Madam Pomfrey might take that. "It's not that I don't feel like I can talk to you! It's just different, I don't know why, it's the same with Professor McGonagall, I just can't imagine talking to her about stuff like that, she'll just feel sorry for me, I know that's awful. It's not that I don'ttrust youboth-," his words started to run together in his hurry to get them out.

"Harry, Harry, slow down, it's okay. I'm not offended. And it's not stupid if that's how you feel."

Harry just nodded, his cheeks still feeling warm. He couldn't believe he'd carried on like that.

"You feel as though you can trust Professor Snape?"

"Well, not exactly. Not fully," he paused. "I trust him not to tell anyone. I don't mean you, I mean, like, Malfoy. I was certain he was going to tell all his Slytherins about my, uh, issues. But he didn't. I know he didn't because they definitely would have made fun of me by now. He told me not to drink my potion in the Great Hall because he knew it would draw attention to me because it tastes so foul I can't help making a face and he knew that would make people ask questions. He made sure he healed my shoulder before he gave me a lecture-"

"When was this?" Madam Pomfrey interrupted, slightly sharply.

"Uh, last night," he admitted.

"What happened?"

"I ran into a barrier. An invisible barrier. My shoulder hurt so much afterwards, but Professor Snape gave me a potion and it felt so much better straight away."

"Hm. Stand up for me," Madam Pomfrey beckoned to the boy as she also got to her feet.

"It's fine, really," Harry insisted even as he stood.

But the medi-witch had adopted her no nonsense attitude as she looked at him questioningly and Harry understood she was asking which shoulder it had been. He held out his right arm obediently.

She began flourishing her wand immediately over his shoulder and all the way down his arm, murmuring an incantation that Harry didn't catch.

"Rotate your arm for me, in big circles," she instructed after a few moments.

"Snape had me do this already," Harry grumbled but complied.

"Any pain?"

"No," he confirmed.

"You only bruised your shoulder it seems. Did Professor Snape give you an anti-inflammatory?"

"I think that's what he said, yeah."

"Very well, you can sit down."

Harry sat, sinking back more fully into the armchair this time.

"Would you like me to speak with him then? Or would you like to?"

"You. Please," he said quickly.

"Okay, I'll do that this evening."

Harry's eyes widened and he began chewing at his thumb again. That was quick. He wasn't sure he was ready to handle the possibility of rejection just now. But Madam Pomfrey seemed keen to get him talking, so of course she wasn't going to delay asking him.

"So you think it's a good idea?" he couldn't help but ask.

"If it's what you want, then yes."

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

"You're not crazy, Harry," she assured. "Professor Snape is experienced in this area having successfully helped a number of students who were in similar situations as you. So I am fully confident he has the capabilities to help you."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"No, you wouldn't. And I've told you that in the strictest confidence, Mr. Potter."

"Yes ma'am."

"I simply didn't suggest him as I assumed you would not be amenable to the idea."

"That's why I'm worried people will think I'm crazy."

"People do not have to know, Harry. Aside from Professor Snape, I will have to inform the headmaster and your Head of House. Besides that, no one need know."

"You-you have to tell Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes, Harry, I do," she said softly.

Harry just nodded, looking slightly distressed.

"She will respect your decision, Harry."

"Will she be mad I didn't choose her?" he began picking at his thumb this time.

"No, Harry. We all just want what's best for you."

"Okay," he said unconvincingly.

"Right, young man, I think it's time you get to dinner," Madam Pomfrey said gently, getting to her feet. "Don't forget to take your potion."

"I won't, I promise," Harry replied as he pushed himself up.

"Good boy, off you go then,"

The medi-witch watched as the boy left her office, pulling the door closed softly behind him. She moved around to sit at her desk, tidying away the paperwork she'd left out when Harry had arrived.

She glanced habitually at the monitoring orbs, watching their gentle bouncing motion. She tried to guess at Severus' reaction when she revealed Harry's request to him. The child had seemed fairly confident in his choice, even if the details as to why were less clear. She knew from firsthand experience just how good Severus was at assisting his Slytherins who were in similar situations to Harry, she knew how much help and support he was capable of giving. And obviously Harry somehow felt that too.

She just hoped Severus would agree.

***

Severus was settled in his quarters, he hoped, for the evening. Nightcap in hand, he flipped through Libatius Borage's newly published reference book that had arrived for him that morning. A South-American potioneer, perhaps the most famous in the world, Severus was incredibly sceptical about what knowledge he could have thought to add on the topic of alchemy that required an entirely new volume.

A light rap on the door shattered Severus' hopes of a quiet evening in a way that was becoming unpleasantly familiar.

With a slight groan, he rose to his feet, placing his new book on the small side table, and made his way over to pull open the door.

"Poppy," he greeted, slightly surprised. He was almost certain it was going to have been a prefect reporting some sort of student crisis, the first Friday night of the term being notoriously unruly.

"Sorry to disturb your evening, Severus. But I have something to ask of you."

"By all means, Poppy, come in," Snape stepped out of the way so the medi-witch could pass into his sitting room.

"Before I get to that though," she said, taking a seat. "I would appreciate it if you would notify me whenever a student is injured and requires healing."

Snape eyed the medi-witch closely as he sat across from her before replying. "You're referring to Potter?"

"Yes. What happened?"

"Didn't the boy tell you?"

"Yes, but I'd like to hear it from you too."

"I caught Mr. Potter out of bounds last night, well past midnight."

"Ah, see that detail he did not mention," Madam Pomfrey said wryly.

"Unsurprising," Snape grunted, before continuing. "He foolishly ran from me and I was in no mood to chase him so cast a modification of the Imperturbable Charm which he slammed into and fell to the floor, thus injuring his shoulder."

"He said you provided an anti-inflammatory?" she questioned.

"That is correct."

"Inform me next time, please, Severus."

"You want me to inform you of every potion I hand out?" glowered Snape.

"No, not every single one. I trust you know where you stand with potions. But injuries such as Harry sustained, I should know about. Just so that I'm aware."

"Very well. In the interests of total transparency did he also tell you he had another panic attack at the time?"

"No he didn't," she said slowly. "In fact he told me he hadn't had another once since you brought him to me the first time."

"Hm, well he certainly had one last night and I have seen him on the cusp of another, not including the instance where I brought him to you."

"What I'm about to ask you is starting to make a bit more sense to me," Madam Pomfrey sighed.

"Your proposition?" Snape questioned.

"I wouldn't term it a proposition, Severus. Merely a request. But it is not me who is making it."

"I do not follow." Although he was starting to develop an inkling of who else might be involved.

"I just ask that you consider it seriously before you make a decision either way."

Severus just waited for her to reveal exactly what she meant.

"Harry has asked if you will be his trusted adult."

"You are joking of course."

"Severus," she admonished. "I am quite sincere. As was Harry."

"The headmaster has put him up to this then," he snapped.

Quite used to the Potions Master's abrasiveness, Poppy was not phased. "To my knowledge, Albus has not spoken with Harry since I asked him to consider who he would choose to help him."

"Then I struggle to see how the boy came to this decision on his own," Snape argued.

"I must admit, even to Harry the reasons aren't concrete. But he feels as though you are the only adult who he would feel comfortable sharing with. He cited you providing his nutrient potion and helping him through his panic attack. And clearly the latter has been more frequent than I have been aware of," she said pointedly.

"Perhaps it was remiss of me to not inform you. Although it was not intentional, if you had asked me I would have divulged anything you asked. As for his nutrient potion, I am simply doing my duty as a professor of this school in charge of any student's welfare. That he has leaped to this conclusion that I am the right person for him to confide in," he ran his hand through his long, lanky hair. "We do not have that type of relationship," he started. "Why has his Head of House not stepped up? I'm sure Minerva would be more than happy to speak with the boy."

"Harry ruled her out actually," she said mildly. "Along with me."

Snape raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"He couldn't clearly articulate why but I suspect he is worried we would pity him. Something he doesn't have to worry about with you, apparently."

Snape huffed in indignation.

"Precisely why I am not suited to be Potter's confidante."

"He doesn't need pity, Severus. He needs support and understanding. Which I have seen you extend very successfully to a number of students."

"All of whom were Slytherins."

"His house does not matter, Severus. All that matters is he needs help. Your help."

"This is exactly what Albus wanted all along," he groaned.

"Can we think about what Harry wants for once? What he's asking for. I get the impression he has never asked for much of anything, or he learnt early on not to."

The man brooded in silence for a few moments.

"I'm not going to try and convince you further, Severus, you have to want this too. But please think on it. You don't have to give me an answer tonight."

Snape nodded tightly, reaching to grab the drink he'd quite forgotten about since the medi-witch's arrival. He took a deep swig.

"I'll see myself out," Poppy said, getting to her feet. "Have a good evening, Severus."

***

Snape strode up through the corridors leading out of the dungeons, he bypassed the Great Hall having already eaten lunch in his quarters, and carried on towards the hospital wing.

When he entered the infirmary, he caught sight of the matron talking with a fifth-year Ravenclaw occupying one of the beds, and slipped into the office, confident that Poppy had noticed his entrance and knew that he would be waiting for her.

After only a few minutes, the medi-witch entered her office, closing the door softly behind her.

"Severus," she greeted, as she moved around to sit at her desk. "What can I do for you?"

Snape just gave her a dark look. "I have an answer for you."

"I see," Madam Pomfrey said carefully. "And?"

"It is not simply yes or no. I have conditions."

"I would expect nothing less."

"Conditions that I think his Head of House might wish to be aware of. Granted we are free to discuss this with Minerva?"

"Harry knows I intended to inform her, yes."

"Then I shall summon Minerva," he said, slipping his wand into his hand with a flourish

"No need, I have just released my only patient, we can go to her. The wards will alert me if another student arrives in the meantime."

"Very well."

The walk towards Gryffindor Tower was a quiet one. Snape was second guessing increasing his involvement in Potter's situation whilst Madam Pomfrey was pleased she hadn't been given an outright no.

Snape knocked smartly on the office door of the Gryffindor Head of House and pushed it open.

"Severus, Poppy," Professor McGonagall looked up in surprise from where she was sat at her desk. "What has happened?"

"Nothing, Minerva, we are just here to discuss something with you," Madam Pomfrey assured from the doorway.

"Oh, forgive me. Come in, have a seat," she gestured to the two chairs in front of her desk. "What's this about?"

"Potter," Snape stated succinctly.

"Perhaps you could elaborate, Severus," McGonagall asked good-naturedly.

"Harry has chosen Severus to be his trusted adult," Madam Pomfrey supplied. "I passed on the request last night and Severus has neither agreed nor refused, but has some conditions which he feels you would need to be aware of."

"I'm sorry, I lost you at Harry choosing Severus," McGonagall said bewilderedly. "Chosen him for what exactly?"

"I have spoken with Harry about sharing his experiences and accepting help from an adult that he feels comfortable with. And Harry asked me yesterday if Professor Snape could be that person."

Silence hung heavily in the air as Professor McGonagall absorbed this information.

"No need to look so shocked, Minerva," Snape deadpanned.

"This isn't a joking matter, Severus," McGonagall snapped back.

Snape just raised his hands in defense.

"I must say I am at a loss for words. Why Severus? Why not me? Or you perhaps, Poppy? Even Albus?"

"I got the impression Harry thought we would pity him, Minerva. As for why Severus, that's between the two of them I believe. Or for Harry to share with you if he decides to. I am confident he has decided this of his own volition, so that should be enough for you at present. Although he did seem particularly distressed at the idea you would be upset with him that he hadn't chosen you but I assured him we would support his decision."

McGonagall just nodded absently.

"So, Severus, you said you had conditions?" prompted the medi-witch.

"I do. Firstly, I will need to have a conversation with Potter to really determine whether this is going to work."

"Naturally," Madam Pomfrey agreed.

"Secondly, I do not want to be relaying everything the boy tells me to either of you or Albus."

Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth as if to argue.

"Hold on," he forestalled her. "If something becomes medically relevant, then of course I will inform you, Poppy. But I will not act as a messenger between you all. It will not work that way, the boy will never trust me if he becomes cognizant of the fact I am revealing everything he divulges. Especially to those who he has already explicitly expressed an apprehension of sharing with. You either trust me to handle this alone or you don't; if it's the latter then we are done here."

"Alright, I understand. Anything else?"

"Yes, one more thing. If I am to help Potter in this way, I also want more authority over his overall behaviour."

Professor McGonagall, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until this point piped up. "Whatever do you mean, Severus?"

"The boy has no regard for his safety. The events of the end of last year demonstrate that. I have also already caught him out of bounds once this week. And who knows if he's avoided detection on top of that. He needs boundaries, consequences, consistent discipline."

"Would you like him to move into the dungeons and be his Head of House too, Severus?" McGonagall asked, aghast.

"Now who is being facetious," Snape argued.

"Now I see why you wanted Minerva informed," Poppy murmured.

"Helping Potter to deal with his past and moving through it has no bearing on his discipline, Severus. He is asking for you to understand him, not criticise his every move."

"That is where you are wrong, Minerva. The students I have helped in the past have all been under my direct supervision and have thrived as a result. Potter's disobedience and unwillingness to follow the rules will greatly hinder the progress in helping him to understand that his safety is paramount. If he is not willing to consider his safety then I cannot help him. I do not speak of criticising the boy, merely following through when he does something that warrants correction. Even if said transgression is outside of my classroom."

"Harry will never agree to that," McGonagall tried.

"And that is his choice. But those are my terms. And they are non-negotiable."

"They seem fair, Minerva," Madam Pomfrey said after a silence. "Both Harry and Severus need to be comfortable with their arrangement for it to work."

Professor McGonagall looked like she was struggling to accept the situation.

"Have your conversation with Potter, Severus," she finally relented. "But then I want to speak with him myself too. How's that for a condition?"

"I have no problem with that," Snape said calmly.

"Excellent," announced Madam Pomfrey. "How about I ask Harry to come along to the hospital wing tomorrow? You can both speak with him separately in my office, neutral ground."

After a time was agreed, the medi-witch and Potions Master departed, leaving the head of Gryffindor alone to speculate just how she'd missed such a development.

Chapter Text

Harry received his summons to the hospital wing by way of a note popping onto his plate as he sat down to breakfast that morning. He started slightly in surprise at its appearance but snatched it up and read the details before anyone else could comment. Committing the time to memory he crumpled the slip of parchment and stuffed it into his pocket.

He had a feeling he knew what Madam Pomfrey wanted to see him about. Damn, she worked fast. He couldn't decide if it was a good or bad thing that Snape had made a decision so quickly. Surely that meant he'd said no? Harry didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

"...Earth to Harry," he heard Ron say loudly, giving the impression he'd called his name a number of times already. Harry snapped out of his thoughts. "Huh? Oh sorry, pass me those pancakes will you?" he asked to try and cover his lapse.

Hermione passed over the platter of pancakes and Harry took a few and began to drizzle syrup all over them.

"Whatcha wanna do today?" Ron asked around a bite of his sausage.

"We need to do a final run through of Lockhart's Travels with Trolls," Hermione said pointedly.

"'Mione, we spent all of Friday night doing that!" Ron exclaimed. "I think we're prepared enough."

"And you refused to do a run through yesterday so we need to do it at least once more today so it's fresh for tomorrow."

"Fine," Ron conceded, knowing it was often better to just agree with her. "Only once though, and later."

"Shall we say one o'clock, after lunch?" Hermione suggested.

"Can't," Harry chimed in. "I have an appointment with Pomfrey then."

"Do you?" Hermione questioned. "What for?"

"Not sure. Could just be a check up from when I was in last time."

"Bloody Malfoy," Ron seethed. "I can't believe he hasn't been expelled for what he did to you."

"Is she going to check that that potion is working for you?" Hermione pushed.

"Hermione," Harry shushed her. "I just told you I don't know, so can we not try and guess at the breakfast table, please."

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just curious as to when you'll stop having to produce the glamor."

"Hermione!" it was Ron this time that shushed the girl.

"How do you know I haven't already?" Harry couldn't help himself retorting.

Hermione just shrugged. "I doubt it works quite that quickly."

"Yeah, me either so can we just drop it, please."

***

The trio spent most of their Sunday morning with a long visit to Hagrid. Harry always greatly enjoyed their visits to his cabin. There was just something about the half-giant that massively played a part in forming the sense of home he felt at Hogwarts. However, Hagrid had been busy baking and it took every excuse they could think of to dodge all offerings of his treacle tart. They didn't feel like spending the rest of the day with the stomach ache that almost always resulted from eating any of Hagrid's baked goods.

By the time they were leaving, Harry only had time for a quick lunch before he was due for his appointment in the hospital wing. He tried his best to eat a decent amount but despite managing to avoid any of Hagrid's tart, his stomach still felt like it was in knots and he only managed a measly half a cheese sandwich and spent the rest of the time gnawing on an apple, completely oblivious to the keen eyes that were watching him from the head table.

When he could put it off no longer, Harry bade farewell to his friends and headed in the direction of the hospital wing. Although as he walked, the reality of exactly what he'd asked for began to sink in. He couldn't believe he'd asked if he could talk to Snape! What had he been thinking. The man hated him, didn't he? Maybe he was actually crazy? Despite Madam Pomfrey's reassurances he felt like maybe he had lost his mind. The only comfort he felt was the fact that his teacher would definitely have said no. There was no way he would have said yes to helping him.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall's clipped tone came from somewhere behind him and broke through his spiralling. He hadn't even realised he'd stopped walking. He spun around and watched as his teacher caught up to where he was standing, her shoes clicking smartly against the stone floor.

"You have an appointment, do you not?" she continued, gesturing for him to keep walking. "Dithering will only make us late."

"Us?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes, Potter, I will be present for your appointment also. Come along." Without waiting for a response, McGonagall continued along the corridor and Harry stumbled slightly as he hurried to follow.

Did this mean Snape had refused and McGonagall was going to offer instead, Harry thought. He really, really didn't want that. He thought he'd said that to Madam Pomfrey, that she'd understood why he'd rejected the help of the obvious choice that was his head of house? As much as he was regretting suggesting Snape, he definitely didn't feel comfortable with McGonagall taking his place instead.

When they arrived at the hospital wing, Professor McGonagall guided Harry directly to the office where Madam Pomfrey and Snape were seemingly deep in conversation, sitting in the same armchairs that Harry had had his discussion with the medi-witch in only yesterday.

Harry froze just inside the entrance to the office as he took in the scene in front of him. He was shocked to see his potion's professor there and then immediately felt stupid for having such a reaction. The two ceased their conversation and got to their feet once they'd noticed the newcomers and McGonagall gave Harry a slight nudge forward to move him further into the room. He tried his best not to flinch at the unexpected contact but he knew he wasn't entirely successful.

"Good afternoon, Harry, Professor," Madam Pomfrey greeted them. Harry tried to smile at her but only managed a sort of grimace. "Come and take a seat," she gestured at her recently vacated armchair and Harry crept forward, doing his best to avoid looking in Snape's direction.

He sank back into the armchair, hating the immediate feeling of vulnerability he got as the three adult wizards were left standing over him.

Snape seemed to pick up on his unease and promptly offered his armchair to Professor McGonagall before summoning the two chairs in front of Pomfrey's desk. They were now all sat in a sort of half circle around the fireplace and Harry didn't feel like he liked his set up any better. It felt too formal.

He was still avoiding looking in Snape's direction and so he was grateful when it was Madam Pomfrey who started speaking.

"We've asked you here today, Harry, to go over a few things with you. We have a few questions for you. And I'm sure you have a few questions for us?" she added, kindly.

"Uhhh," he stalled, he hadn't really thought about it. "I guess."

"Both professors would like to speak with you separately. Is that something you feel comfortable with?"

Harry tried his best to keep a look of confusion off his face. Couldn't Snape just reject him right now? Why did they have to have a private conversation about it? He would really rather just get it over with so the man could leave.

"Harry?"

"Uh, yep. That's fine," his mouth betrayed him by agreeing.

"Okay well, Professor McGonagall would you like to start? Professor Snape and I will just be outside."

McGonagall was going first? Harry assumed Snape would be itching to reject him straight away so he could leave as soon as possible. But he watched as the man got to his feet without complaint and left the office, followed by Madam Pomfrey who pulled the door shut gently behind her. As he watched them leave he only just managed to resist speaking up to make a last minute request to have Madam Pomfrey stay. He wasn't a baby who needed the medi-witch to hold his hand.

"So, Mr. Potter," McGonagall began, drawing his attention away from the closed door. "Do you know why I wish to speak with you?"

"Uh, Madam Pomfrey said you had some questions for me?" he offered.

"I do."

"You're not angry with me are you?" he practically whispered, staring at his knees.

"Potter. Harry," she amended. "Of course not. Why would I be angry with you?"

Harry gave a sort of half shrug, but finally lifted his head to look at his professor. "I just figured you'd be angry that I didn't ask for you."

"I must admit I am greatly surprised at your choice, but I am certainly not angry. If you truly feel Professor Snape is more suited to your needs in this then I am only going to support you in that."

"S'not like it matters," Harry mumbled.

"Whatever do you mean, Harry?"

"Well he's saying no, right? It's too quick for him to have said yes."

McGonagall closely observed the small child in front of her as his gaze once again returned to his knees. He looked tired, weary even. The kind of look that should not be seen on any twelve year old's face. His leg was bouncing restlessly even though he barely managed to reach the floor and he was picking absently at the skin around his thumb, and she noticed how red and raw the patch around his thumbnail was. Certainly this child needed someone and she was struggling to accept the fact that she had not noticed before.

"Actually Harry, it is my understanding that he intends to say yes."

Harry's head whipped up again.

"There are few things he wishes to ask you. But he wouldn't be entertaining the idea this way if he was going to refuse you outright."

Harry's jaw dropped as he took in McGonagall's words.

"I can't-I thought..." he stuttered.

"Why are you so shocked, Harry?"

"I just-I thought it was too quick for him to have given a decision to Pomfrey- Madam Pomfrey, sorry," he quickly corrected. "And then when you said you were coming to this appointment I thought it was because you were going to offer in his place instead."

"Madam Pomfrey has already relayed your reservations about the both of us to me. I would not force my help on you, Harry, if you feel there is someone else you would rather have. However I do want to make sure this is truly your decision."

"What do you mean, Professor?"

"Well, I think you would admit to yourself that your relationship with Professor Snape has never been particularly harmonious, so naturally I am a little taken aback by your choice. And I would like to know if this decision is truly your own. That you haven't been coerced into it."

"Uh, what does coerced mean, professor?"

"Do you feel as though you have been forced or pressured into choosing Professor Snape?"

"Who would-who would force me to choose him, Professor?" Harry asked, utterly bewildered at the possibility.

"Well I can see by your confusion that it is clearly not the case, so never mind. But I must admit I am curious as to your reasoning, Harry, if you feel comfortable sharing with me."

"For choosing Professor Snape?" Harry queried.

McGonagall just nodded.

"Uh, well, it's hard to explain. I tried to explain to Madam Pomfrey but I'm not sure it came out right. He just feels- it feels like-that I can maybe trust him with...this stuff. He's helped me a few times already- but I don't really want to talk about it, if that's okay," he finished in a rush.

"Of course, Harry, whatever you're willing to share is fine."

Harry looked relieved.

"Now there is one other thing I wanted to make sure you're aware of before Professor Snape speaks with you. Something he is requesting of you if he is to agree to this. Something I want to make sure you are comfortable with," McGonagall started cryptically.

"Okay..."

"He is requesting more...influence over you, shall we say."

Harry just looked at her blankly.

"Make no mistake, I am your Head of House, you are a Gryffindor and that is not changing," she said firmly.

Harry's confusion started to morph into alarm at where this was heading and McGonagall hastened to explain herself better.

"Professor Snape has requested that not only will you be going to him for... emotional support but also your physical needs and any behavioural transgressions will be overseen by him too. In all but name he will act as your Head of House."

"Why-why would he ask for that?" Harry breathed.

"It is my understanding that that is how it has worked for him in the past. You are under no obligation to accept his terms, Harry. If you feel as though it is too much, we will find you another solution."

"No I-that's okay. If that's his condition, I'm okay with that."

"Are you quite sure, Harry? You don't want some more time to think about it? I have known Professor Snape for many years and this is not something he will take lightly. He keeps a very tight leash on his Slytherins. Even I can admit that I am not as exacting with you all as he is with his Slytherins."

"Doesn't seem like it," Harry mumbled.

"What do you mean by that?"

"He lets them get away with everything. I've never even seen him take points from Slytherin even when they're totally messing around in Potions. You take points from us all the time."

She chuckled lightly. "Ah well, I don't think it is the Slytherin way to chastise their own in public. Take it from me, he is in no way lenient with them."

Harry absorbed this information. On one hand it sounded totally terrifying, essentially handing over total control to Snape. He felt like he'd only just gotten over the shock that Snape was actually considering accepting. But on the other there was a reason the man's name had tumbled out of his mouth yesterday. He had a bubbling sense that Snape could be trusted and when he'd explained that to McGonagall he really felt like he believed in it.

"I'd still like to accept," he finally said. "Although, I won't have to move into the dungeons will I?" he queried, praying that wasn't attached to Snape's condition.

"Absolutely not. You are Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," she stated, almost sounding offended. "You belong in the Tower."

"Okay good. Yes then."

McGonagall once again observed the boy in front of her. "Very well then, are there any more questions you have?"

"No, I don't think so. But can I ask later if I think of any?"

"Of course, Harry. My door is always open to you. Shall I send Professor Snape in?"

Harry nervously nodded his head, resuming his attack on the skin around his thumb as his head of house got to her feet and walked briskly out of the room. He couldn't quite believe Snape was considering accepting. This was not how he'd imagined this appointment would go at all. His leg started bouncing again and his heart began thumping uncomfortably quickly.

But he only had a couple of minutes to spiral in his thoughts before Professor Snape swept into the room, his robe billowing out behind him.

Harry still couldn't quite look at him but he did manage to not stare down at his knees as he knew Snape wouldn't let him get away with that.

"Mr. Potter," Snape began as he took a seat in McGonagall's recently vacated armchair and observed him closely.

"Sir."

"Professor McGonagall has informed me that you have agreed to accept the condition I posed in order for me to agree to assist you."

"Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"Do you require any further clarification on top of what has already been explained to you?"

"Uh, no sir, I don't think so. Although she did say, Professor McGonagall I mean, that I wouldn't have to move into the dungeons. That's true, right?"

"I have no interest in removing you from the Tower, Potter," he said dismissively.

"Okay good," he let out the breath he'd been holding in a whoosh.

"Is that truly the only question you have," Snape prompted as Harry didn't seem to be forming another one.

"I-I think so, sir."

"Then I am going to ask you one of mine: why me, Potter?"

Harry was getting a little tired of answering this question and his annoyance overpowered his nervousness for a split second.

"Do I really have to keep explaining to everyone?" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. And he snapped his head up to look at his professor's face to gage the man's reaction to his rudeness.

The potion's professor didn't so much as blink. "Not to everyone, no, but I think it would be somewhat prudent for me to be privy to such information."

Harry barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes, couldn't the man just speak normally for once? Sometimes he figured he didn't know half the words that came out of his mouth.

"You've already helped me a few times with my, uh, attacks," he started slowly. "And you seem to really know what you're doing. And Madam Pomfrey said you'd helped other students before me, although I actually only found out afterwards about that. But you don't fuss over me like she does, I don't mean to be rude but I hate it when she does that, it makes me feel like such a baby and I'm not. I'm not a baby," now that he'd gotten started he couldn't seem to hold himself back. "And I feel like you're not going to run and tell them everything I tell you, like Madam Pomfrey didn't even know about my other attacks and that you healed my shoulder, and yeah again that was after I'd already asked for you but it just makes me think that my gut instinct was right." He sucked in a huge breath and stopped himself from carrying on.

"On the contrary, Potter, at the time I should have informed Madam Pomfrey about your shoulder and subsequent panic attacks."

"Wha- wait so you still have to tell her everything I tell you?"

"Listen carefully to what I am saying, Potter. I said 'at the time' meaning that back then, yes, I should have informed her. She was solely in charge of your medical wellbeing at the time and should have been cognisant of any of your...mishaps. However," he held up a hand to forestall Harry from arguing back, "that is not to my liking now if this is to work. I will not act as an owl between you all. Anything you tell me will not be relayed back, unless of course you request it or unless a medical condition presents itself that I am unequipped to deal with. I will keep Madam Pomfrey, your Head of House and the headmaster informed with general terms of your progress but you need not concern yourself that I am going to reveal all."

"That-that sounds okay."

Snape silently observed him for such a long time that Harry couldn't help but begin to squirm.

"Very well, Potter. You have passed."

Harry just squinted up at his professor.

"That was somewhat of a test. If you could not relay your thoughts and emotions to me freely then this was never going to work. Your body language and behaviour when you first stepped into this office made me question whether I could be beneficial in assisting you. I do not expect you to feel comfortable enough to bare all in our very first talk but you could not even look in my direction. However you have proven you are capable of sharing with me to a degree."

Harry didn't know what to say. He still couldn't believe this was actually happening. He was just glad he'd somehow passed the first test.

"Now, logistics. I suggest a weekly meeting to start with and see how we go from there. We may need to increase or decrease the frequency but we shall start with that."

Harry nodded along.

"Shall we say Wednesday evening? And we can combine it with you collecting your nutrient potion?"

"Yeah, um, I mean, yes, that works for me, sir," Harry was just secretly glad Snape hadn't suggested a quidditch day as he wasn't sure whether the man would care to rearrange just so he could train.

"We shall discuss more in detail then what you can expect from me and what I expect in return. But for now I will let you get back to your Sunday. I daresay there is last minute homework you need to complete."

The man made to get to his feet but was stopped when Harry piped up."Can I actually ask you a question really quickly?"

"May you?" Snape corrected.

"May I," Harry parroted.

"You may."

"Um well, I was just wondering, you don't have to answer if you don't want to...-"

"Spit it out, Potter,"

"Why did you agree to help me?"

This gave the Potions Master pause. He had alternated between both scenarios of him agreeing or rejecting, with good arguments on both sides. So much like Harry he didn't have a simple answer.

"It is my duty as a professor at this school to assist where I am able to ensure the welfare of students."

Harry deflated slightly at that. He wasn't quite sure what he'd wanted to hear but that had sounded so impersonal.

"And additionally, as Madam Pomfrey alluded to, I have helped a number of students in your position. That, along with a few other factors, places me in a uniquely qualified position to help you and that is all I will say for now." The older wizard got to his feet and Harry followed suit.

"You are dismissed, Potter. I will see you in class and on Wednesday. But if you have need of me between or beforehand, you know where to find me. Off you go."

Chapter Text

Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey paused their conversation and turned towards the door to the hospital wing office as they heard it creak open. Harry stepped out and when he noticed them standing across the room, he gave them a brief smile. He didn't stop to say anything, just continued walking out to the corridor.

Both witches turned to each before simultaneously making their way back through the office door that Harry had left slightly ajar.

"Severus?" McGonagall greeted the man, whose back was turned to them, perusing Madam Pomfrey's bookshelves.

"Hmm? What is it, Minerva?"

"What did you say to him?"

"I am not answering that," Snape snapped, turning around to face them. "I have already explained to you that what is said between Potter and myself will not be parroted back to you."

McGonagall sighed. "Very well, Severus. Keep your secrets. But have you been able to come to an agreement?"

"They are not my secrets, Minerva, I will not break the boy's confidence at the first opportunity."

"Quite right, Severus," the medi-witch jumped in, taking a slight step forward so she was positioned a little between the two heads of house. “But we would be grateful if you could confirm that he agreed to your conditions?"

"He did," Snape said grudgingly.

"I am surprised at that," McGonagall mused. "Or rather at the speed at which he agreed to it when I informed him of your conditions. He didn't even think twice about it."

Snape didn't reply immediately but gave her a dark look.

"Traumatised children do not often act as we would expect," he said eventually.

"You think he is traumatised?" McGonagall said aghast.

"Undoubtedly," Severus replied succinctly. "Abuse will do that to a child. Now, if you will excuse me, I must speak with the headmaster."

"Oh no you don't, Severus Snape! You cannot just slip out after saying a thing like that!" argued McGonagall.

"On the contrary, Minerva, that is exactly what I intend to do. You and Potter both have agreed to my conditions meaning the boy is now under my purview. You are not entitled to demand explanations from either of us any longer. I will see myself out, have a pleasant afternoon."

Snape stepped agilely around both witches, both of them too stunned to say anything or attempt to stop him, and out of the door, pulling it closed behind him with a soft click.

***

Snape swept through the corridors, his cloak billowing behind him. He muttered the ludicrous password to the stone gargoyle, Albus seemed to have no end to his list of favourite sweet treats, he thought darkly. Snape knocked smartly on the door and was immediately granted entry.

"Severus, my boy. What can I do for you on this fine Sunday? Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

"Unfortunately this is not a social call, Headmaster," he said, taking a seat opposite the older wizard. "I have some things which I need to inform you of. And as per usual they centre around your Golden Boy."

"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore admonished, but gestured for him to continue.

"I thought you should know that Potter has taken Poppy's advice and has chosen me to confide in," he stopped, waiting for any reaction from the headmaster. When none came, he continued. "In order for me to agree to assist him I explained that I required Potter to be wholly my responsibility, as has been the case in the past with my Slytherins. Both the boy and Minerva have agreed to this."

Still Dumbledore remained quiet, just gazed at Snape with his piercing blue eyes, so he pressed on.

"My other condition was that anything he says to me stays largely between us. I will keep you all informed with general updates but unless anything specifically arises that I feel I cannot deal with alone, Potter's confidence will start and end with me. Both Poppy and Minerva have agreed to this," he paused. "But I will also require your agreement in this, Albus.”

"Quite the change of heart, Severus," Dumbledore said mildly.

"Hm," Snape mused. "I found myself unable to refuse a direct request from him. Although I'm still not certain if it is a good idea."

"Well, I think it a marvellous idea, and of course you have my agreement that I will not badger you for details," he smiled serenely.

"Do not look so smug, Albus. I know you are pleased you have finally gotten your way."

"Alas, I am simply pleased that Harry has gotten his way. That fact that it is also exactly what I had hoped for is simply a happy coincidence."

Snape grunted but had no rebuttal. "Unfortunately that is not all the news I have on Potter. As I'm sure you are aware by now, I caught Potter out of bounds a few nights ago."

"Minerva did express her displeasure to me about a certain loss of points, yes," Dumbledore said with a hint of a smile playing about his lips.

"Yes, well, someone needs to impress upon the boy that he is not above the rules and that his actions have consequences which do not solely affect him. However, and forgive me for not bringing this to your attention immediately, but Potter had a rather concerning story to tell me as to why I found him sprinting through the corridors with seemingly no concern as to if he were seen or heard."

Dumbledore had lost the smug look in his eye at the shift in Snape’s tone.

"Potter informed me that he heard a voice, an invisible voice, or at least he could not see who it was who was speaking. He said it was making threats about wanting to kill someone."

This time when Dumbledore didn't immediately say anything, Snape could tell he wasn't just effecting his usual trick of staying silent to encourage the other person to keep speaking, he was fully absorbing what he'd been told.

"That is most concerning, my boy," he finally said.

"Indeed."

"He has only heard it the one time?"

"To my knowledge, yes. I was quite firm with him that he is to tell me or another member of staff if he is to hear it again. So help me if he has and has kept it to himself. I did tell him that I would be informing you of this, he understands this is a school safety matter and one I cannot keep a secret from you. So naturally if he tells me he has heard it again I will inform you."

"You think he is the only one who will be able to hear it?"

"Simply a gut feeling, Headmaster. As no one else was around to hear it we cannot even confirm if the voice was indeed out-loud or perhaps in his head."

"You are suggesting Voldemort has a hand in this somehow?"

Snape shuddered at the name but said "I think we are getting ahead of ourselves, Albus."

"No harm in hypothesising, my boy," and whilst his tone was light, Snape could tell the older wizard was rattled.

"We cannot be certain of anything at this time so I think it best to wait and see if this situation develops. It is possible Potter was simply sleep walking and suffered a nightmare."

"Quite right, Severus. As you said though, please do keep me apprised."

"Certainly, Albus. Now, I will leave you to the rest of your Sunday as I must prepare for the week ahead."

"Thank you, my boy," Dumbledore said sincerely, as Snape stood.

"Please do not thank me, Albus. I have not done anything yet," he said as he turned towards the door.

"Now, that's not true at all, Severus," the headmaster said so quietly as he walked away that Snape wasn't sure if he'd been meant to hear it at all.

***

The next day, Harry still felt in a state of disbelief that he'd agreed to let Snape be in charge of him. As he trailed behind his classmates to their Potions lesson he wasn't sure how to feel. He didn't know how this new agreement was going to work and if it meant anything would change in class.

The trio took their usual seats near the back and Harry immediately began biting at the skin around his thumb as they waited for Snape to begin.

Snape's dark gaze swept across the classroom, resting for a split second longer on Harry than on anyone else before he cleared his throat and the whole classroom fell silent.

"Today, as you should all be aware, you will be producing a simple Swelling Solution. If you have done the required reading, you should have little difficulty. Mr. Malfoy, what is the main ingredient in this potion?"

"Puffer-fish eyes, sir."

"Correct, five potions to Slytherin." Malfoy preened at the praise and Ron gave Harry a disgusted look.

"Mr. Finnegan, what are the other two main components?"

"Uh, bat spleens, sir."

"That is one, Finnegan, even I thought you were capable of counting to two."

"I can't remember what it is."

The students collectively held their breath. "A pity. Ten points for not doing your reading effectively. Can anyone inform Mr. Finnegan of the remaining ingredient?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air as almost everyone else tried their best to avoid eye-contact with the irate professor.

"Miss Parkinson?" Hermione huffed at being overlooked.

"It's dried nettles, professor."

"Indeed. Five points, Miss Parkinson."

"You will be working in pairs, you have two hours and now we're all up to speed, you may collect your ingredients." Snape waved his wand and the door to the store cupboard creaked open.

Benches scraped along the floor as half the students got to their feet and rushed towards the cupboard in an attempt to get there first whilst the others began setting up their workspace.

Harry kept his head down and did his best to concentrate on the potion despite how apprehensive he was feeling in Snape's presence. The man hadn't said anything to him, in fact he had basically ignored him which Harry was secretly grateful for as he hadn't remembered that the nettles specifically had to be dried and he knew Snape would have picked up on that if he'd been asked.

"Anti-clockwise, Harry," Ron whispered urgently, some time later, as he grabbed his arm to stop him stirring their potion the wrong way.

"Oops, sorry, got distracted," Harry whispered back as he began stirring the right way.

"You've been distracted all day, mate. What's going on?"

"Not now, Ron. Can we talk about this later?"

"So there is something?"

"Maybe," Harry conceded.

By now their potion was the required flaxen colour and Harry was feeling slightly less on edge now that they had something to show for the last couple of hours. By the end of the lesson there were ten steaming cauldrons of varying shades of yellow and Snape marched between the rows of workbenches observing as he went.

He stopped in front of Dean and Seamus' workbench and raised his eyebrows as he appraised their potion.

"Which of the two of you is willing to test the effectiveness of your potion?" he asked, capturing the attention of the whole room.

Neither Dean nor Seamus looked eager at the prospect.

"Mr Thomas, fetch a dropper for Mr. Finnegan to use."

"I thought Snape taking points for Seamus not knowing the answer earlier was punishment enough," Ron whispered to Harry as Dean handed Seamus a dropper full of their attempt at the Swelling Solution.

"Three drops on your palm, Mr. Finnigan," Snape instructed.

Not seeing any way out, Seamus squeezed out three drops on his outstretched palm. Immediately his hand began to swell at an alarming rate causing a few people to gasp. His hand thunked on the workbench as it became too heavy for him to hold up any longer and he looked pleadingly at Snape.

"How many puffer-fish eyes did you add, Mr Finnigan?" Snape questioned.

"Three, sir," Seamus choked out.

"Your hand would not be the size of a dustbin lid if it had only been three. I specifically stipulated three eyes in this brew to avoid such excessive swelling should an accident arise."

Seamus had no rebuttal as he looked mournfully at the evidence of his enormous hand.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for not following instructions, Mr. Finnigan. Stay behind and I will administer the counter draft." Seamus looked about to retort that he couldn't exactly move as he was effectively pinned to the workbench but thought better of it. "Be grateful I am not making you wait until we brew the counter potion in our next lesson to alleviate your mistake."

"Everybody else, bottle a sample and leave it on my desk and clear up. Review the next chapter of your textbook on the Deflating Draft before our next lesson."

The students rushed to obey Snape's instructions and make it to their next class on time. Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as they left the dungeons and made their way up to Defense. He needed to get a grip. He was meant to be learning to trust Snape, not hold his breath around him.

The Gryffindors explained to Professor Lockhart why Seamus would be late when he pointed out their classmate's absence.

"Oh my," Lockhart exclaimed. "Well your group will just have to go later on then, we wouldn't want anyone to miss their chance to show off their performance."

Both Harry and Ron groaned as they'd been hoping to get it out of the way early on.

"I know, boys, I know, you're eager to get on that stage, but you will just have to wait a little longer. Now, this assignment will be marked a little differently, your peers are going to be giving you your final grade. Peer review is exceptionally important, learning how to assess and provide feedback is an essential skill. All of my work has been peer reviewed and naturally the feedback was very favourable. So I will ask each group to step outside after their performance so the class can discuss, how does that sound?"

There were a few grumbles from the students. "Right-o, who's first!?"

***

Seamus arrived just as the first group had finished looking thoroughly embarrassed but his hand had thankfully been returned to its usual size.

"Excellent, excellent, we're all here. Do you need a moment Mr. Finnigan or would you like to go next?"

He's fine, Professor," Ron declared, getting to his feet. "We'll go next."

"My, my, you certainly are eager. I am very glad to hear that, Mr. Weasley." Ron rolled his eyes as he passed by their teacher to get to the front.

Harry soon realised he didn't much like being in the spotlight which was difficult to avoid as he was taking the role of Professor Lockhart. He felt overly warm but it was too late to take his jumper off as they'd already started, Hermione, Dean, and Seamus were putting their best effort into acting like terrorised villagers as Ron stomped moodily around the makeshift stage.

After it was over, Harry felt relieved to step out into the much cooler corridor but still he peeled off his jumper and leaned against the cool walls of the corridor.

"I think that went well!" Hermione chatted away. "Definitely better than the first group anyway. Justin was just not a convincing Professor Lockhart at all, he was far too stiff. You were much better, Harry," she assured him.

"Hmm," was all Harry could bring himself to reply.

He began kicking his heel impatiently on the stone wall behind him when all of a sudden his blood ran ice cold.

"Starving, must eat...blood...kill...cold

"You've gone awfully white, Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked.

Harry couldn't reply, his heart was racing, blood rushing in his ears, and he began to shake. At that same moment, the door to the classroom opened, Lockhart appearing to usher them back inside. Harry couldn't bear to go back in and sit down after what he'd just heard. Snape's voice echoed in his head demanding that he tell someone if this ever happened again and before he could think twice about it he bolted down the corridor and didn't stop running until he reached the dungeons.

***

It wasn't until Harry reached the potions classroom door that he stopped to wonder if Snape was teaching a lesson right now. Would he want to be interrupted for this? Or would he be angry that Harry hadn't told him immediately?

Mainly because he didn't feel like being in the corridor alone any longer, Harry knocked softly on the classroom door and waited.

The door to Snape's office a couple of metres down opened and the professor stepped out into the corridor. Harry still wasn't quite sure how that worked, Snape knowing he knocked on a door that he wasn't even behind. He'd just said the word 'wards' and he wasn't entirely sure what that meant.

"Potter, why aren't you in your lesson?"

"I heard it again, sir. I came to tell you."

The potions master didn't outwardly react but he felt a sense of dread settle in the pit of his stomach. There went his theory that Potter could have been sleep walking and heard the voice in a nightmare. He took a closer look at the boy and could see he was trembling and he was panting so Snape surmised that he must have run the whole way.

"Come in, Potter," Snape beckoned him over and stepped out of the way so he could pass him into the office. "Sit down," he nodded towards the chair opposite his desk and Harry readily obeyed.

“Where is your jumper, Potter? You are shaking.”

“Not because I’m cold,” Harry insisted, but he wrapped his arms around himself. “I think I left it outside defense, I’m sure Ron will pick it up.”

Snape flicked his wand towards the fireplace and a small fire started warming the room. "Tell me what happened," he instructed, hoping that keeping the boy talking and warming him up would prevent him from panicking.

Harry gazed at the flickering flame as he explained, "I was- we were, I mean, we were just standing outside the defense classroom and I- and I heard it again.”

"What were you doing outside the classroom?"

"The class were peer reviewing my group's assignment so we had to wait outside."

"I see. So there were others with you outside?"

"Yeah, the other people in my group," Harry confirmed.

"And did anyone else hear it?"

"Uh, I don't- I don't think so. It didn't seem like it. I mean I wasn't really paying attention to them when I heard it. Professor Lockhart just opened the door and that's when I ran. I didn't want to tell him or sit back down in the classroom so I ran."

"And what did it say this time?"

"The same kind of stuff. It wants to kill, that it's hungry. It said it was cold, which I don't think it did last time. What does it mean, Professor? What is it I'm hearing?"

"I cannot tell you that, Potter. I have informed the headmaster of your first incident and I will inform him of this second one. However, unfortunately neither of us are able to provide you with any answers at this stage."

Harry slumped a little in his chair. The adrenaline of the encounter had all of a sudden worn off and he felt incredibly tired and shaky.

"You did well to bring this to me straight away, Mr. Potter."

This perked Harry up a little bit. Had Snape just said he'd done something well?

"Well you said I had to tell a teacher straight away and I didn't want to tell Professor Lockhart so."

"I cannot fault your decision making there," Snape mused.

Harry's eyes bugged out at that comment. Clearly Snape wasn't a fan of the defense teacher either.

"If you're feeling well enough to stand I would like to see exactly where you heard the voice, Potter."

"Of course I can stand, sir," Harry said indignantly, proving his point and getting to his feet. "I ran all the way down here didn't I?"

"Yes and that was foolish of you. A brisk walk would have been adequate to get you here in a timely manner. I believe there is a school rule somewhere that prohibits running in the corridors."

"But-but I-"

"I don't want to hear it, Potter. Lessons are still in progress so we need to go now before the corridors become overrun. You can perfect your excuses for later."

Harry nodded mutely and followed his teacher back out into the corridor.

But before they even came close to the defense classroom, it happened again.

Harry's blood ran cold and he came to a sudden halt that meant his teacher was a few steps ahead of him before he found his voice.

"Professor," Harry said weakly.

Snape whipped around to see Harry standing stock still apart from the return of the earlier trembling. He was back by his side in a split second, grasping the boy's upper arm, ignoring the boy's flinch at the contact and began flicking his wand and muttering words Harry couldn’t catch.

"What is it saying, Potter?" Snape urged.

"The same stuff. It wants to kill, it's hungry. Oh god it really makes me feel awful."

Snape took a closer look at the boy and guided him to sit on the floor against the wall.

"So you didn't hear it?" Harry asked shakily.

"No I did not," Snape admitted. "Keep breathing, Potter."

"I'm not having a panic attack."

"I didn't say you were," Snape retorted. "But if you want to keep it that way, you need to calm down."

"I am calm!"

"Hush, Potter," Snape growled.

Harry snapped his mouth closed. The cold stone underneath him and behind his back did feel nice against his clammy skin as he rested for a moment.

"Did you find anything?" he couldn't help but ask after only a few minutes

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"You were waving your wand around."

"I do not wave my wand around, insolent boy. But I did determine there was no one in this corridor apart from us."

"So it's just in my head?"

"Not necessarily, Potter."

"Ugh, I'm so tired of this already," he dropped his head into his hands.

"We will get to the bottom of it, you have my word, Mr. Potter. For now though I suggest you go to your dorm for a lie down."

"A lie down!" Harry exclaimed, outraged. "I don't need a nap, I'm not a toddler!"

"We can go to your dorm room or I can escort you to the hospital wing, the choice is yours."

"But why?!"

"Because you have just had two significant shocks and are as white as a ghost and trembling like a leaf. Not to mention the fact that you agreed to have me making decisions for you, or have you forgotten that already? So be grateful I am giving you a choice at all, Mr. Potter."

"Fine, I'll go to my dorm," he conceded sulkily.

"Lose the attitude, Potter. You would think I'm setting you more homework rather than excusing you from a lesson. Up you get then."

Snape held out his hand to assist the boy, but it was ignored and Harry pushed himself to his feet.

The walk to the Tower was a silent one, Harry felt tense, certain he was going to hear the voice again.

But they made it to the portrait hole without further incident and Harry hesitated before clambering through, wondering if Snape was going to follow him all the way in.

"You will be excused from your next lesson, Potter, but I expect to see you at lunch."

"Okay."

"Lie down even if you can't sleep."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, but even as he was about to protest that he definitely wouldn't be able to sleep he found himself having to stifle a yawn.

He stepped through and the portrait swung shut behind him as he trudged across the common room and up to his room. He paused briefly at the foot of his bed to kick his school shoes before pulling the hangings around to block out the light and flopping down fully clothed on top of the bedsheets.

He was asleep in seconds.

Chapter Text

Harry slept soundly for what felt like the first time in forever and only began to stir when incessant whispers managed to slip through his bed hangings.

"Shh, you'll wake him!"

"That's the point, 'Mione! It's lunch time, we have to eat."

The sound of his friend's name jolted Harry awake fully. He was glad he'd had the presence of mind to close his drapes before he fell asleep. Even though his friends knew about the glamour and that it dropped when he was asleep, he still wasn't ready to let them see him without it.

"How are you in the boys' dorm, Hermione!?" he gasped as he pushed himself up and thrust his head outside of the heavy drapes to confirm her presence.

"The staircase just let me up," the girl shrugged. "Maybe it's only the other way around that it doesn't allow," she hypothesised.

"Now that you're awake can we please go to lunch?" Ron whined. "I have your stuff with me, I took it from Defense. Lockhart tried to get me to leave it with him but I managed to convince him you might just show up at our next lesson and then you wouldn't want to have to go all the way back to get it."

Harry flopped back down. His peaceful sleep already felt like it was being spoiled with talk of bookbags and their slightly unhinged Defense professor. And it had been a wonderfully peaceful sleep. He hated that Snape had been right about that. And speaking of Snape, his teacher had made it clear that Harry better make an appearance at lunch. The only problem was he wasn't really hungry yet.

"Yeah, okay," Harry finally answered, dragging himself up again and pushing his hangings completely out the way so he could swing out of bed. "Can you just give me a second? I'll meet you downstairs."

"Sure, mate. C'mon, Hermione," Ron practically dragged the girl out of the dormroom and back down the stairs, leaving Harry in peace.

Harry snickered slightly at his friend's obvious enthusiasm to make it to lunch quickly. Getting to his feet, he tried to smooth down his rumpled clothing and tame his unruly hair, which was, as always, largely ineffective.

Trying not to preemptively grimace, he reached into his bedside drawer to grab a vial of his nutrient potion and took a swig before he could detect its foul smell. Its lumpy texture slid disgustingly down his throat and he briefly thought how grateful he was that only a single swallow was required for a full dose as he was sure having to drink an entire vial every time might have a completely disastrous outcome.

Not wanting to keep his friends, especially Ron, waiting too long, he took one final look in the mirror and made one more attempt to corral his hair. He eventually gave up in favour of pleasing both Ron and Snape and making his way to lunch.

***

Harry felt himself tense once more as the trio descended through the maze of corridors towards the Great Hall. Hermione was attempting to fill Harry in on what he had missed in Herbology but he was barely absorbing anything she was telling him. He was too busy trying to relax his muscles that kept clenching in anticipation of hearing the voice again.

The Great Hall was especially noisy as the majority of the student body had already arrived for lunch and were talking and eating animatedly. The three of them squeezed into a spot halfway along the Gryffindor benches and began to tuck in immediately to the steaming dishes in front of them. At least, Ron and Hermione did. Harry, on the other hand, opted for a cheese and tomato sandwich which he placed straight on his plate without taking a bite and instead reached for a goblet of pumpkin juice and started taking small sips.

He risked a glance up at the Head Table and although Snape wasn't looking directly at him he could tell the man was displeased about something; his customary scowl looked a little more intense than usual and just in case it had something to do with his untouched lunch, Harry made an effort to start nibbling on the corner of his sandwich.

The noise of the Great Hall seemed to rise steadily and all of sudden it became all too much for Harry. He felt his chest start to constrict and his stomach was churning uncomfortably and he wished he could retreat to the safety of his bed and pull the hangings around to shut the world out. Instead, he scrunched his eyes closed and attempted the deep breathing Snape seemed so keen on. Surprised at the effectiveness as his breathing began to feel less constrained, he elbowed Ron to signal he wanted to leave. His friend looked mournfully at the remainder of his treacle tart but got to his feet anyway tugging Hermione along with him who had been deep in conversation with a fifth year student.

"Hey!" Hermione complained as they exited the Great Hall into the comparatively quiet Entrance Hall. "I was just having a fascinating discussion about the ethics of using live ingredients in potions before you rudely interrupted."

"Reckon your definitions need work, 'Mione," Ron quipped. "Not sure how that can ever be considered fascinating."

Hermione just harrumphed and stalked off in the direction of the History of Magic classroom.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked as the boys began to follow in Hermione's footsteps. "You seem...tense."

"It's nothing, Ron. I just didn't like how loud it was in there."

"The Great Hall is always loud," Ron said, confused. "Especially at meals."

"Yeah, well today I just couldn't take it any longer. There doesn't always have to be a big reason for everything."

"Right, okay, forget I asked."

Ron's quick dismissal wounded Harry. He knew Ron was just trying to be a good friend and look out for him but right now he didn't feel like he could accept any kind of pitying words or worried looks.

They arrived at History of Magic much earlier than normal and this resulted in Hermione insisting that they take the row of desks right at the front of the classroom that were normally always occupied by the most eager of Ravenclaw students. As the rest of their classmates started to file in in dribs and drabs Harry tried his best to relax otherwise he was certain that none of what he was about to be taught would be able to penetrate through his tension.

As Professor Binns glided in and resumed their lesson on the International Warlock Convention, Harry couldn't help but curse Hermione for forcing them to sit at the front. He felt that he had to at least attempt to pay attention when he was directly underneath Binns' nose but he was really struggling. Even a fascinating Defense topic would hardly hold his attention right now, he thought wryly. But he could tell Ron was struggling to focus as well, the boy's head jerking conspicuously every few moments, and that made him feel slightly better. No doubt both of them would be begging for Hermione's notes after class this time.

As the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, and thankfully the end of lessons for the day, the students eagerly rose to their feet and began to file out of the classroom. When the trio arrived back in the common room they flopped down into their usual armchairs and as predicted Ron immediately began needling Hermione to share her History notes. She eventually gave in purely to "keep the peace", and the three of them settled down in comfortable silence to get some homework done.

When it came to their usual time to head down for dinner, Harry tried his best to look engrossed with his Potions essay.

"C'mon, mate. We have to get there soon or you'll be too stuffed right before Quidditch practice."

"You guys go ahead if you're hungry. I just want to finish this paragraph before I forget what I was going to write."

Ron looked torn between waiting and satisfying his rumbling stomach whilst Hermione only looked suspicious.

"We can wait a few more minutes, it's fine, Harry."

"No!" he practically yelled, earning him a few odd looks from some of the other Gryffindors around them. "I mean," he tried again in a more level voice. "I'll just meet you there. I don't want you hovering while I'm trying to concentrate."

"We always go together though, we can just wait outside-"

"Just go, Hermione," Harry snapped, annoyed now. "You don't have to baby me all the time."

"I'm not-" Hermione began but Ron laid a hand on her arm to stop her.

"No worries, mate. We'll save you a spot. Just know we'll come looking for you if you don't show up." He tried to laugh but it came out a little strained.

Harry just nodded weakly, and turned his eyes back to his essay as his friends retreated. He'd already made up his mind that he wasn't going. He couldn't face the Great Hall right now and besides, he wasn't hungry. But mainly the overwhelm he'd felt during lunchtime was not something he wanted to feel again any time soon.

***

Ron and Hermione were just tucking into their dinner when they saw both Dean and Seamus who were sitting opposite them, tense abruptly. With a sense of unease, they both swiveled in their seats to see who had arrived behind them. In keeping with their friends' reactions neither were surprised to see their fearsome Potions Professor towering over them.

"Professor?" Hermione questioned bravely.

"Where is Potter?" Snape snapped, getting straight to the point. "You are nearly always inseparable."

"Uh well, he stayed behind in the Tower, he said he'd join us later, he just wanted to focus on his homework for a minute without distraction," Ron offered.

"And has it been sufficiently longer than a minute by now?" he drawled in response.

"I guess- I guess so, sir."

With a wave of his hand but without another word, the potions master turned on his heel and marched out of the hall. A few other Gryffindor students had watched the exchange in confusion, however the noise in the Hall must have muffled the conversation as they hadn't been able to hear a single word of what had been said.

"What was all that about?" Dean asked, as Ron and Hermione turned back around in their seats.

"I have no idea, mate." Ron said, looking meaningfully at Hermione.

"I think Professor Snape has gone off to look for Harry," Hermione offered.

"What has that greasy bastard got to do with, Harry?" Seamus asked aghast.

"Seamus!" Hermione hissed. "Don't talk about a professor like that! He's probably just trying to help and-"

Ron gave the girl a swift kick under the table.

"Ouch!" she turned on him, outraged. "What was that for?"

"Stop talking, 'Mione," he spoke softly so they wouldn't be overheard. "I know we don't know exactly what's going on but I can tell you for sure he wouldn't want us speculating with the others." He looked meaningfully at their year-mates across the table who luckily were absorbed back in a conversation of their own.

Hermione paused before replying. "Okay, fine I get your point," she acquiesced. "But that kick hurt," she bent down to rub at her leg.

"Yeah, well it was supposed to," Ron huffed.

"Do you really think he's gone after him?" Ron asked quietly.

"I think so. We do know he's somewhat involved in Harry's eating if he's brewing him a potion to help. I bet it's a type of nutrient potion that you have to eat with so I guess he'd be annoyed if Harry's not using them properly.”

"I guess that makes sense. It's not like he cares, he'd just be annoyed that his potions were being wasted."

The two went back to eating their dinner in silence and more slowly than before, the both of them lost in thought.

"That was a big word for you, Ronald," Hermione finally said.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked.

"Speculating. That's a big word for you."

"Oh shut up," Ron groaned, but he turned away from her so she couldn't see the grin that he couldn't keep off his face.

***

Snape marched through the corridors towards the Tower quietly lamenting the distance it was from the Great Hall. When he reached the Fat Lady's portrait he muttered the teacher's password that granted professors access to any of the Houses’ living quarters.

The door swung open to a largely empty common room, only two sixth year students had not yet joined their peers at dinner and they both seemed to be working diligently on school work and consequently had not noticed as their feared Potions professor stepped through the portrait hole.

Snape's keen eyesight caught sight of a mop of unruly jet black hair just peeking out over the top of a stuffed armchair over by the largest fireplace and he knew instantly he had found the boy. Before he approached him he stepped over to the two other students and quietly ordered they make their way to dinner immediately. Both students jumped up in surprise, stuffing their books back into their bags and stepping out through the still open portrait hole.

Unwilling to approach the boy and startle him the same way he had the sixth year students, he chose to call out instead.

"Mr. Potter," he said clearly.

That was all it took for the boy to whip his head around, his eyes wide in shock at finding his Gryffindor common room invaded by his Slytherin Potions master.

Once he had the boy's attention, he swiftly approached, unwilling to give the child too much of a head start if he decided to bolt. But Potter seemed frozen in his seat, his eyes tracking his Professor's movement towards him. Snape sat down in the armchair opposite him, dragging the chair a little closer to reduce the distance between them.

"Explain yourself, Mr. Potter," Snape demanded.

"Sir?"

"Do not pretend to misunderstand me, Potter. Why are you not at dinner in the Great Hall with the rest of your peers?"

"Not hungry," Harry mumbled.

"Speak up, Potter."

"I said I'm not hungry," he tried again, a little more defiantly.

"And yet, eating three meals a day is a stipulation for your extra-curricular freedom is it not?"

"Huh?"

"Try again, Potter," Snape said sharply.

Harry swallowed audibly and tried again, "I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

"It is my understanding that if you are found to not be consuming three meals a day, your Quidditch privileges will be revoked."

Harry gaped at him. "But I- how did you-that's not fair!"

"It does not have to be. That is the restriction that has been placed upon you by this school's medi-witch and you will follow it one way or another."

Harry cringed back into his armchair, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

"Now explain to me why you are not in the Great Hall and do not bother saying it is because you are not hungry. You barely consumed anything at lunch so I know that is not true. In addition, I am confident that I mentioned to you that your nutrient potion contains an appetite stimulant which would make it impossible for you not to feel hungry. That is, if you have been taking it as directed."

Snape hadn't posed it as a question but Harry still felt the need to defend himself.

"I have, I promise!"

"Then do not lie to me and say you are not hungry," Snape said calmly. "I have told you before that you are a terrible liar, Mr. Potter. And I will always find out the truth."

Snape let that final sentence hang in the air. He hadn't shouted it, he hadn't delivered it in a threatening way. Merely with utter confidence that Harry couldn't help but believe him. And eventually he caved, just as Snape knew he would.

"It's just, it's really loud in there," Harry revealed, staring at his knees.

"Look at me, Potter. You mean in the Great Hall?" Snape clarified.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, sir," Harry took a small breath and raised his gaze. "I was already not feeling so good, I kept expecting to hear that voice again. And then the Hall was so noisy and I knew I should eat something but I started to feel sick because I didn't like how noisy it was but I kept thinking you were watching and seeing that I wasn't eating and that you'd be angry about it even though I took my potion, I promise you I really did, and then I tried to do that breathing you had me do a few times and it worked for a bit but after a while I just felt bad again so I made Ron and Hermione leave with me." Another, deeper breath, and he continued, "so I just didn't want to go back there for dinner. I still don't feel too good and I know it will be really loud again. So I just told Ron and Hermione I'd join them later but I didn't, I never really meant to actually go," he admitted more quietly.

Snape hadn't interrupted Harry during his rambling confession, not even with a customary raised eyebrow. And he took longer than usual to respond, considering the best response.

"And so you planned to avoid attending meals for the foreseeable future?"

"I-I hadn't really thought that far ahead, sir."

"Did I not tell you to seek me out if you were struggling?"

"But I was waiting until our Wednesday meeting."

"And you thought I would allow you to skip meals for that entire duration?"

"No. No, sir."

"I also told you that you were to find me in the interim if you had need of me before then. Or had you forgotten?"

"No I hadn't forgotten, sir."

"Then what seems to be the issue, Potter?"

Harry finally broke the eye contact he'd been trying his hardest to maintain. It was just so pathetic.

"I just don't want to seem so needy already. You've only just agreed to help me and already I'm bothering you."

"I am expecting to be needed, Potter. That is sort of the entire point of this," he snarked, but it lacked his usual bite.

Harry just shrugged his shoulders.

"That is not a suitable response, Potter. A shrug tells me nothing. But perhaps once a week is not sufficient for our meetings until I can trust you to come to me directly if you are having a problem. So you will report to my office every other day at the very least."

Harry gaped at the man.

"But sir, I have other stuff to do! What about quidditch and-"

Snape held up his hand to stop him.

"It needn't be for a long time. We shall save our extended meetings for Wednesdays, as agreed. And speaking of quidditch-," the man tapped his wand against the small mahogany table between their chairs and with a small popping noise a steaming plate of shepherd's pie with a side of broccoli appeared as Harry looked on in amazement. "If you do not eat a portion of this to my satisfaction, you will not be able to attend your practice this evening."

Harry bristled at that but seemed to be more concerned with something else.

"What if someone comes in?" Harry asked, looking horrified at the thought that someone might come in and catch him eating dinner with their Potions professor. He spun around in his chair to glance back towards the portrait hole as if he expected someone to be standing there right now.

"Everyone else is present at dinner where they should be. We will not be disturbed."

"If you say so," Harry muttered, but inched forwards towards his plate anyway. It did smell good.

"Ah, before you start," Snape forestalled Harry with another raised hand, "have you taken your potion this evening?"

Harry flushed slightly. "No, sir," he admitted.

"Off you go then," Snape gestured towards the stairs leading towards the dormitories.

Harry took the hint and jumped up from his seat, and hurried off to his dormroom to chug down the required dose.

By the time he got back Snape was reading from a slim volume Harry assumed he'd been hiding somewhere in his voluminous robes. He sat back down in his seat and gingerly pulled the still steaming plate closer towards him to begin eating.

"How did you get into the common room, Professor? Did Professor McGonagall tell you the password?" Harry asked around a mouthful of food.

"Do not speak with your mouth full, Potter, it is extremely unbecoming," Snape replied, without even looking up from his book.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled around his mashed potato.

Snape did look up then and gave him a long glare, causing Harry’s cheeks to flush. He continued chewing his food, taking care to keep his mouth firmly closed.

"Each member of the faculty has a password that will get them into any Houses' living quarters," Snape offered.

Harry swallowed what was in his mouth before asking, "even Ravenclaw? You don't have to answer a riddle?"

"We do not," Snape confirmed. "Usually if a teacher requires entry it is needed immediately. Waiting to hear and answer a riddle would not be conducive to that." Harry had just put a forkful of broccoli in his mouth so could not question Snape further.

Before long, Harry's plate was cleared and Snape looked up as Harry placed his knife and fork down on the plate.

"Can I go to quidditch practice now?" he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

Snape grimaced but decided not to comment on the boy’s table manners this time."May you?"

"May I go to practice?"

"You may. However," Harry looked about ready to bounce out of his seat before Snape stopped him with a pointed glare. "This is not going to happen again, is it, Mr. Potter?"

"No, sir," Harry agreed meekly.

"If you feel you are not able to attend a meal you come and find me or Madam Pomfrey. You will not simply skip them, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Harry was squirming now at how intently Snape was staring at him.

"I suggest you attempt to arrive at meals as soon as they begin rather than leave it to the last second, as the Great Hall is often much quieter in the first half an hour. If that means that you have to get up earlier in the mornings for breakfast then so be it."

Harry looked miserable at the prospect but nodded anyway.

"So I will expect to see you in the Hall at seven o’clock sharp at breakfast. And if you get into difficulty we will leave and find somewhere else, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed.

"We will see how you do and go from there. One meal at a time, Mr. Potter," he declared, getting to his feet, an action that Harry mirrored as he was itching to get to practice.

"Off with you then," Snape excused him and Harry hurried off towards his dormitory with a mumbled goodbye.

"Oh and Potter," Snape called, stopping the boy in his tracks. "I have told Madam Pomfrey to expect us at half past five tomorrow, so after your early dinner you will need to make your way straight there."

"Sir?" Harry spun around, looking alarmed. "What for?"

"For your weekly check up. They are on Tuesdays as I understand it."

"Yeah but- you mean you're coming too?" Harry stammered.

"Yes," Snape said simply as if it were obvious.

Harry looked like he wanted to argue but knew it would be useless.

"I have told you before, Mr. Potter, I am taking this extremely seriously. I do not shirk my duties and thus I will be present for any medical appointments for the foreseeable future. Now, I assume you do not want to be late for Mr. Wood so run along." His tone brooked no argument.

Harry paused for a second longer but eventually turned back around and pounded up the stone steps to his dormitory. With a wave of his wand Harry’s empty plate disappeared and with a flourish of his robes, Snape too, disappeared back out of the portrait hole which closed behind him with a sharp snap.

Chapter Text

Bright and early the next morning, Harry dragged an incredibly reluctant and bleary eyed Ron down the stone steps to the common room so they could meet Hermione and get down to breakfast early. The other boys, including Neville much to Harry's surprise, had categorically refused to wake up any earlier than normal just so they could eat together as they usually did.

Hermione was already waiting for them, perched on the edge of a plush armchair; the rest of the common room was empty. She greeted them cheerfully, Ron merely grunting back in reply.

"Thanks for doing this, guys," Harry said gratefully.

He hadn't elaborated too much about his evening when he came back from quidditch practice last night and found the two of them together in the common room. Only that Snape had gotten him something to eat and that he'd all but insisted he go to breakfast early the next day. Hermione had readily agreed to join him, whilst Ron had taken a little more persuading.

"Of course, Harry," Hermione swatted away his gratitude as they stepped through the portrait hole. "I'm normally up at this time anyway."

"Speak for yourself, 'Mione," Ron grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Hermione just elbowed him.

As promised, the Great Hall was much quieter than it was at their typical breakfast hour. Harry glanced up at the head table as they made their way halfway up the Gryffindor table to where they usually sat. Snape was sipping a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper and didn't so much as glance up at Harry's entrance.

With minimal noise around him, Harry felt much more relaxed and consequently did find it much easier than normal to tuck into his breakfast. He couldn't quite keep up with Ron, but he felt rather surprised at how much he did manage. Throughout the meal he kept returning his gaze to the head table, but Snape hadn't looked in his direction the whole meal. He tried not to feel too disheartened about it but he did want his teacher to see he was capable of doing what he was told.

By the time the Great Hall started to fill up, the trio were done eating their breakfast and Harry was grateful when Hermione suggested they leave so they could beat the usual crush to get to lessons.

***

Harry breezed through Charms feeling more relaxed than he had for a while and it wasn't until the bell rang to signal the end of their second lesson, Defense, that this good mood was ruined.

"Stay behind please, Mr. Potter," Professor Lockhart's voice rang out across the classroom as the rest of the students began to file out of the room.

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion, unable to think of a reason he'd been singled out, but he remained in his seat. He just hoped he wouldn't miss the whole of his breaktime before the next lesson.

"Come closer, Harry," Lockhart beamed, as he beckoned Harry forward to the front of the classroom.

His professor's expression just added to his confusion but he obediently moved so he was standing in front of Lockhart's mahogany desk.

"Now, Harry," Lockhart began, his delighted expression not leaving his face. "We need to discuss your little disappearing act during our last lesson together."

The colour drained from Harry's face as he realised where this conversation was headed.

"Now, now, young man, there's no need to look so afraid, I'm sure there is a simple explanation."

"Uh, well, I don't really- I can't-" he broke off, not sure how to explain himself without giving too much away.

"Just fancied ditching, was it?" Lockhart winked at him. "Well, I can't say I blame you. What's the point of a little fame if you cannot use it from time to time?" he laughed heartily.

"That's not-," Harry stuttered.

"However," he held up his hand to halt Harry's stuttering. "I think you are maybe a tad young to be using your status in such a way, I can't be seen to be letting even you get away with ditching my class. Therefore, I think we should spend a little extra time together this evening, what do you think?"

"You mean a detention, sir?" Harry's good mood had officially sunk like a lead balloon.

"No, no! I would not want you to think of it as a detention, Harry. Although that is what I will be putting down on the paperwork," he winked again, Harry tried his best not to shudder. "I feel as though we should spend some time getting to know one another. As someone who has been playing the 'fame game' a little longer than you, I think I can be of some help to you. Offer you some advice."

"You want to give me fame advice?" Harry asked incredulously. "What even is that?" he asked, half to himself, or so he thought.

"Well, I'm glad you asked! We can discuss in much more detail later. Now run along, I will see you at half past six. Just try not to look too excited about it, or your classmates will get suspicious. It must seem as though I am punishing you, or before you know it everyone will be skipping my lessons!"

Not sure how to respond, Harry mutely retreated from Lockhart's desk and hurried towards the door, remembering to grab his bag along the way.

Hermione and Ron were waiting just outside and they gave him questioning looks as he appeared.

"Detention, for skipping the end of class yesterday," he explained, as they made their way

"Detention!" Ron parroted. "From Lockhart?"

"Well, he just said he was going to put down detention on the paperwork, for McGonagall I guess. But actually he said he just wanted us to spend some time getting to know each other."

Ron just stared at him. "I think that might be worse, mate," he finally said.

"You're telling me," Harry breathed, much to Hermione's obvious annoyance.

"Well, I think it's a great idea," she piped up. "You're very lucky that Professor Lockhart is willing to give up his time to spend with you, I'm sure he's very busy with all of his school and other outside commitments."

"By outside commitments do you mean photoshoots?" Ron asked facetiously.

"Amongst other things," Hermione argued. "I'm sure his time is very sought after. I'm just saying Harry should be grateful."

"You're crackers, Hermione. I can't believe you can't see what a floozy he is."

"He is not a floozy, Ronald!"

"Okay, okay," Harry said, trying to defuse the tension that was rapidly building. "Can we just make the most of the rest of our break before we have to go to Herbology? Please."

Harry's pleading tone caused the two of them to drop their argument immediately.

"Sure," Hermione smiled tightly. "How about we go sit by the lake for a bit, it's still warm out."

"Great idea," Harry agreed. "Let's go."

***

The warmth of the sunshine on their backs whilst they sat around the lake helped fizzle out the lingering animosity from his friends' bickering. Harry loved the sunshine; loved the feel of it on his skin, how everything just seemed that little bit better when the sun was shining. He wasn't looking forward to a few weeks time when autumn, quickly followed by winter, would set in and the sun would become a thing of the past, the days shorter and the dark so much more oppressive.

He shook his head to will away the gloomy thoughts that had crept in and pretty soon it was time for their next class and luckily Professor Sprout's lecture on Mandrakes was interesting enough to keep his thoughts from straying again.

Lunch was another success for Harry as he happily ate along with his friends before dipping out after about twenty minutes. Snape was there, but again Harry was sure he hadn't looked in his direction once.

***

Confident he was going to manage all three meals of the day without any problems, Harry felt relaxed enough to mess around with Ron as they made their way to dinner. He'd told the two of them he had an appointment with Madam Pomfrey at half past five and both of them had agreed to join him for an early dinner after they'd done a little bit of homework in the common room. The boys were pushing and shoving each other as they bounced down the corridor, Hermione following behind them looking a little irritated.

A particularly vicious shove had Harry colliding with the back of a student who had just stepped out of a classroom into Harry's uncontrolled path.

"Boys!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing forward. "I knew it was a matter of time before someone got hurt."

Harry scrambled to hold onto the person he had collided with to prevent them both from toppling to the ground. But whomever it was did not take kindly to being manhandled.

Harry only caught sight of a flash of green robes as the person he had been gripping onto wrenched themselves violently away from him and spun around to face him. Before Harry had a chance to jump away from the murderous expression he now recognised on the face of Slytherin seeker, Terence Higgs, the third year had gripped the back of his neck and had shoved him roughly against the corridor wall, Harry's head smacking painfully against the stone.

"Do not put your hands on me, Potter," he snarled, whilst still holding Harry prisoner. "Do not give me more reason than I already have to hurt you."

"I'm sorry," Harry gasped, the pain from the collision with the wall had shocked him and the older student's words didn't fully register with him. "It was-it was an accident, I promise," he stuttered.

"Get off him!" Hermione and Ron shouted, as they raced towards the two rival quidditch players. But Terence had already let go by the time Ron and Hermione caught up to Harry, it had all happened so quickly.

"Gheez, are you alright, mate?" Ron asked guiltily. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you so hard."

Harry nodded mutely but slid down the wall so he was crouched against it, clutching his head in his hands.

"Let me see, Harry," Hermione demanded, crouching down beside him and pulling his hands away. "Hm, it's not bleeding or anything, and I don't see a mark."

"Of course you're not going to see a mark, Hermione," Harry snapped.

"Oh right, the glamour," she said quietly, after a moment's thought.

"Yes, the glamour," Harry hissed back, pressing his hand back against the invisible but painful spot. "Doesn't stop it from bloody hurting though."

The trio remained where they were for a few minutes while Harry tried to focus on not crying and Ron gave dirty looks to anyone who stared as they walked past them. Eventually Harry lowered his hands from his head and managed a weak smile. Ron offered him a hand which Harry gratefully accepted and he was hauled to his feet.

He swayed slightly, and Ron placed his hands on his shoulders to steady him. "Take it easy," he murmured.

"Just a bit dizzy," Harry explained. "God, that really hurt."

"I bet, he really laid into you," Ron said sympathetically. "Seemed a bit of an over the top reaction just because you bumped into him."

"Well didn't you hear what he said after?" Hermione asked quietly.

"No?" both boys said in tandem.

"He said 'don't not give me more reason than I already have to hurt you.'"

"What does that mean?" Ron asked, stunned.

"Nothing good, I'm sure," Harry moaned. "But probably just a quidditch thing."

"I'm not so sure, Harry," Hermione argued. "You couldn't see the look on his face as he said it. It seemed more intense than that. You should definitely tell a teacher. As well as go and see Madam Pomfrey for your head."

Harry looked into her worried face. "Well good job I have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey at half past five then," he snarked.

"Actually that's only in ten minutes now, mate. You better get moving," Ron said.

"I was supposed to eat first!" Harry said, dismayed. "I have that stupid detention with Lockhart basically straight after."

"I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will give you something if you ask," Hermione offered.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said. Unwilling to offer up the fact that Snape would also be there and Harry had been secretly hoping to impress the man with how well he'd done today.

"Well I better go, I don't want to be late, I'll catch up with you later."

"Be careful, Harry!" Hermione demanded, as he walked away. "You just hit your head, don't rush!"

***

Harry slipped into the hospital wing with a minute to spare. Madam Pomfrey was busy flourishing her wand, causing bed linens to strip and remake the beds with fresh ones.

"Just hop up onto a bed, please, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey instructed without even looking towards him. "I'll be with you in just a moment."

Harry did as he was told, hopping up onto the closest bed. He refused to lie down on it though, he resolutely sat ramrod straight, gently kicking the metal leg that he could reach.

As promised, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over a few minutes later, holding in her hands a neatly folded hospital gown which she held out to him.

Harry scrunched his face up. "Do I really need to wear that?" he questioned, the whine evident in his voice.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you do. I'll give you a minute," she backed away, pulling the privacy curtain around the bed as she went.

Harry sighed deeply but jumped down from the bed and began to pull off his clothes, leaving them in a heap on the bedside chair.

Just as he was about to jump back onto the bed, he heard the distinct drawl of his Potions professor.

"Excuse my tardiness, Poppy." Harry rolled his eyes, the man was barely late. "There was a situation that required my immediate attention in the Slytherin common room."

Oh, so maybe he wouldn't have noticed that he hadn't been eating dinner in the Great Hall like he'd told him to, Harry thought to himself.

"Not to worry, Severus. We haven't started yet, he's just getting changed." And then a little louder, "are you ready, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes," Harry grumbled from inside the curtain.

"Lovely," Madam Pomfrey announced as she swept the curtain aside. "Now lie back," she instructed as she took in Harry's tense position in the middle of the bed. Snape stepped around the bed so they were both standing on either side of him.

Harry hesitated for a second, hated the feeling of being trapped in by the two of them but he eventually pushed himself back against the pillows.

"Relax, Harry," she said gently. "I am just going to perform a scan, you won't feel a thing."

Harry just nodded noncommittally.

"I will, however, need to ask you to drop your glamour. If you can, that is," she added.

Harry's eyes widened at that, "Uh I'm not sure how to, Madam Pomfrey. I'm not doing it on purpose, so I'm not sure how I'd drop it on purpose either."

"May I?" she waited patiently for Harry to give his consent.

"Finite Incantatem."

Harry, of course, felt no different, but swore he could feel the staring of the two adults intensify.

No one said anything for a moment and Harry began to squirm under their scrutiny.

"What?" he finally said.

"Your glamour, it dropped for a second," Madam Pomfrey explained. "But it seems your accidental magic kicked back in and raised it again almost immediately."

"Oh, sorry?" Harry offered.

"Do not apologise, Potter," Snape said, sounding slightly exasperated, which Harry didn't really think was fair. He wasn't doing it on purpose.

"So what can we do?" Harry asked.

"I shall have to administer a light sleeping draught-"

"No, no thank you," Harry shook his head resolutely.

"I'm afraid this is non-negotiable, Harry. I can't allow the glamour to potentially interfere with my scan," she explained gently.

Harry just kept shaking his head.

"What is the problem, Potter?" Snape demanded, not adopting the same gentle tone as Madam Pomfrey.

"I just- I have things to do later," he said lamely, looking pleadingly into the dark eyes of his professor.

"You have things to do," Snape parroted. "What could be so important that it takes precedence over your health?"

"Well, I- I need- I have a detention with Professor Lockhart," he admitted, dropping his head.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter," Snape snapped.

"But it's not even my fault!" Harry attempted to defend himself. "It's just because-"

"I do not need to hear your excuses, Potter. You are wasting Madam Pomfrey's time. You will consume the potion you are given and I do not want to hear another word about it."

Harry snapped his mouth shut, fuming silently. Snape wouldn't ever listen when he tried to explain. He'd only been given a detention because he'd done exactly what Snape had told him to do and gone to him as soon as he'd heard that creepy voice again.

As Madam Pomfrey slipped away to grab the required potion Harry kept his gaze resolutely ahead, refusing to look at the man to his left. Luckily the medi-witch was only gone for a moment and neither had to endure the awkward silence for long.

"Now Harry, this is my lightest sleeping draft," she held it out to him. "It will only last for an hour at most," she promised.

Still refusing to look in his professor's direction, Harry took the proffered vial and downed it without hesitation.

Harry was sound asleep immediately, his head lolling back against the pillows causing Snape to frown at the boy.

"That draft is perhaps too potent if it works that efficiently."

"Oh I'm sure it's just because he hasn't eaten dinner yet and has taken it on an empty stomach," she said as she plucked the boy's glasses off his face and placed them carefully on the bedside table.

"Which I would have surmised too if I hadn't instructed him quite clearly to eat prior to this appointment," Snape growled.

"Ah, well, I'm sure he'll have an explanation for you when he wakes. Finite incantatem," she murmured.

"Doesn't he always," Snape huffed.

"Although, Severus, I wonder if this has anything to do with it."

Snape looked down at the boy, who now looked considerably less healthy than he had moments ago. He looked to where the medi-witch had brushed the boy's fringe back away from his forehead. As usual the lightning bolt scar stood out against the boy's pale skin but just to the left of it, an egg-shaped lump had appeared.

Snape sighed deeply. "Why didn't he say anything?" he finally said.

"I have a feeling he's used to keeping it to himself when he gets hurt."

"But he knows that that is unacceptable now!" Snape burst out.

"He is not going to change overnight, Severus. Nor trust you completely straight away. You must give him time."

"And in the meantime I am just supposed to accept the fact he is concealing injuries?"

"We will just have to be more direct in asking him in the meantime until he feels he can come to either of us without being prompted."

Snape seemed to accept that and Madam Pomfrey began flourishing her wand to begin the scan. After a few minutes, a piece of parchment popped into existence in front of her and she grabbed it and studied it intently.

"The head injury is nothing overly concerning, there is no concussion, just a nasty bump. And overall he is improving. Perhaps not as much as I would have expected in a week, but certainly a step in the right direction."

"Thank you, Poppy."

"You just need to continue to make sure he is taking his potion and eating regularly."

"Understood."

"I will leave him with you, Severus. He will probably take the full hour to wake on account of his empty stomach. But I'm sure you have a few things to discuss with him when he wakes."

"Hm," was his only response as he flicked his wand at Harry's discarded clothes so they folded neatly and settled on the bedside table, leaving the chair open for him to sit on.

Severus sat quietly for close to fifty minutes, reading the slim volume he'd pulled from his robes, until he heard the boy start to mutter unintelligibly. His glamour was back in place, his skin had adopted a more healthy glow, he'd filled out a little again and the bump on his head had vanished, so he was obviously on the cusp of waking up.

He tucked away his reading material and waited with uncharacteristic patience for the boy to fully wake.

Harry's green eyes blinked open slowly, his eyelids felt so heavy. He tried to focus on his surroundings but everything remained fuzzy.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Snape said neutrally.

"Uh, hi, Professor, do you have my glasses?"

Snape leaned forward to pick up the glasses and placed them directly in the boy's hand.

Harry pushed them onto his face and sighed in relief as everything around him swam into focus.

"I trust you are feeling well, Potter?" Snape questioned cryptically.

"Uh yeah?" Harry said, confused at the man's tone. "Did everything with the scan go okay?"

"You are making progress in the right direction."

"Right," Harry replied.

"But perhaps you can explain something to me."

"Uh, sure?"

"How did you get that bump on your head," Snape demanded.

Harry's hand flew to his forehead, but of course there was nothing there now, his glamour was back. "Oh shit," he whispered.

Chapter Text

Just as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry caught the look of disapproval that flashed across his professor's face and clapped a hand to his mouth.

"Language, Mr. Potter," Snape chastised.

"I'm sorry," Harry immediately apologised.

"I'm sure that you are. And I'm sure that you wouldn't want to become acquainted with a bar of soap if I were to hear that sort of language from you again."

Harry flushed slightly but shook his head fiercely whilst his teacher continued to look on in disapproval.

"Are you sat on my clothes, sir?" Harry asked in an attempt to change the subject as he noticed his professor was sat on the chair he'd flung his clothes onto earlier.

"What do you think, Potter?" Snape huffed indignantly as he gestured towards the folded pile sitting on the bedside table.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said. "I didn't see them so I was just asking," he added in response to his teacher's irked tone, sitting up so he could reach for the jumper that sat on the top of the pile.

"What do you think you are doing?" Snape questioned.

"Getting dressed," Harry quipped.

"You have not yet been dismissed."

"But I have to go, I have detention," Harry argued.

"And we have a number of things to discuss before you go," Snape said, beginning to lose his patience.

"But I can't be late! He'll just give me another one and it's not even my fault I have this one anyway, it's not fair-"

"Do not argue with me, Potter," Snape cut him off abruptly. "You are not going anywhere until I say you may."

Harry threw his jumper down onto the bed angrily. "You never let me explain anything!" he exploded.

"Stop this at once," Snape barked, fully irritated now. "Get your temper under control immediately."

Harry threw himself back against his pillows, breathing heavily, but he managed to stop himself from snapping back.

"You do not raise your voice at me, Potter. Ever. I will not tolerate being spoken to like that."

"Sorry," Harry said insolently, without a hint of remorse in his voice.

"I am going to be exceedingly generous and give you an opportunity to try that again, Mr. Potter," Snape said icily.

Harry shivered at his professor's tone. He really could be bloody scary when we wanted to be.

It took all of his pride to do as he'd been told, but he took a deep breath and tried again. "I'm sorry for shouting at you, Professor."

"Are you ready to have a civilised conversation?" Snape asked.

"Yes, sir."

"When we are through here, I will personally escort you to your detention. I assume that will be sufficient?"

"Uh yeah, that would be-that would be good actually."

Snape nodded sharply and moved on. "Tell me how you injured your head."

"I really was going to tell you, I just sort of forgot."

"That is not what I asked," Snape said brusquely.

"I was just saying," Harry quipped.

"Potter," his professor returned in a warning tone that he couldn't ignore any longer.

"Someone pushed me," Harry offered.

"I do not have all day and neither do you, so please elaborate, Potter."

"Someone pushed me into a wall and I whacked my head against it."

"Who?" Snape demanded.

"Promise you won't tell them it was me who snitched?"

"I promise no such thing. Answer the question," Snape demanded.

Harry looked pleadingly at his professor but the man remained unmoved. "It was Higgs."

Snape's dark eyes darkened further at the revelation and he sat up a little straighter.

"He will be dealt with. Tell me how this incident came about."

"Well, I uh- I mean we, me, Ron and Hermione were just walking down to the Great Hall and me and Ron might have been pushing each other around a little bit," Snape grimaced, at what Harry couldn't tell, "and all of a sudden Higgs was in front of me, he really did appear from nowhere, but Ron had already pushed me into his path and we sort of collided. I managed to hang onto him so neither of us fell down but he didn't like that at all and he shoved me into the wall and that's when I knocked my head."

Snape absorbed Harry's tale, observing him closely. "And?"

"And what?"

"What else?"

"Uh, why do you think there's anything else?"

"Because I can see it in your face, Potter. What else happened?"

Harry huffed. He hated that he was such an open book. To Snape at least.

"He said something too. I didn't think it was a big deal, I didn't even hear him say it. I was too distracted by getting knocked into the wall but Hermione heard it and she thought it was weird."

"Potter, if I have to keep asking you to elaborate you are going to be so late for your detention that even I will not be able to protect you from further punishment."

"Right, sorry, let me think." Snape rolled his eyes. "It was something like, 'don't give me more reason that I already have to hurt you.'"

Snape didn't outwardly react to the boy's words but inwardly he stiffened.

"But that's just quidditch talk right. Like, what else could he mean?"

"As I said, he will be dealt with," Snape said, sidestepping Harry's question. "As long as you have told me everything?"

"Yup, that's it," Harry confirmed. "I promise I was going to tell you. I was just so worked up about the appointment that I forgot and it didn't even hurt anymore by the time I got here. What did Madam Pomfrey say about it?"

"Merely a bruise, nothing more."

Harry let out a breath. "Okay, but then why are you so wound up about it?"

"I am wound up because you failed to reveal that you had been injured."

"I just said that I was going to tell you!"

"And yet you didn't. You do not get points for intention, Mr. Potter."

"You barely gave me a chance! And like Madam Pomfrey said, it's just a bruise, it's not even that bad."

"It is exactly that bad when another student has harmed you. And you will tell me immediately in the future if someone hurts you in any way again. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

"You want me to tell you the next time someone stands on my foot?"

"Do not be facetious, Potter," Snape practically growled.

Harry had no idea what that word meant but he could make a pretty good guess. "Okay, sorry, but can we go now please?"

"I seem to recall that I said we had a number of things to discuss, Potter, not a singular one. Now, Madam Pomfrey deduced from your reaction to the sleeping draft she provided that you had not consumed dinner prior to this appointment-"

"But that's-," Harry began to interrupt.

"I assume, however," Snape continued loudly over him, "that that is due to your altercation with Mr. Higgs?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, relieved his professor had worked that out before laying into him about doing as he was told. "I was literally on my way down to dinner when it happened and didn't have time to go before I had to come here."

Snape seemed to accept Harry's explanation and reached out to tap the over-bed table and a bowl of what appeared to be some kind of stew appeared.

"Eat, and then I will escort you to your detention."

Harry reached out to pull the tray closer. "I also assume you have taken your potion if you were already on your way down to dinner?"

"Yes," Harry said, annoyed. "I do know that I have to do that."

"Lose the attitude, Potter," Snape rebuked, but with less heat than earlier.

Harry's belly chose that exact moment to rumble loudly and with a pointed look from Snape, Harry tucked into the steaming stew. In a parallel of the night before, Snape pulled out the same book he'd been reading last night and continued where he left off.

"I was at breakfast and lunch though if you didn't see me," Harry said around a mouthful of vegetables.

"I believe we already had a discussion about your table manners the last time you ate your dinner in my presence," was all Snape offered him in response, his attention seemingly still fully focussed on his book.

Harry swallowed his mouthful and tried again. "I was just saying I was there because I thought you hadn't noticed."

"I know you were there, Potter."

"Okay well you didn't say anything so I wasn't sure."

"And why would I say anything?" Snape asked, finally looking up at him.

"Just because I did what you told me," Harry said, beginning to get frustrated that he wasn't being understood.

"Do you require acknowledgment for attending meals now?" Snape asked snidely.

Harry shrugged, embarrassed. "Well, you knew I was finding it hard but I did it anyway." Snape looked at him oddly and Harry couldn't decipher this new expression.

"If you manage every meal tomorrow without my intervention, then maybe I will feel generous enough to acknowledge it."

"Maybe?" Harry wheedled.

"Do not push me, Potter. Finish your dinner."

"I am," Harry whined but shoved another spoonful in his mouth.

"You are being remarkably recalcitrant for a boy who already has a detention to serve this evening," Snape commented.

Harry made sure to swallow before replying. "Well like I said, it's not my fault I have one anyway."

"I hope you're not looking to me for sympathy."

"Not sympathy, just a chance to explain," Harry almost begged. "I've already tried to tell you twice why it's not my fault. And besides, I thought you were in charge of me now anyway, I mean, like, discipline-wise. So I kind of thought you'd know already."

"I suspect word hasn't fully spread to all of the teacher's that your welfare has transferred to me," Snape mused. "I shall endeavour to rectify that."

"Okay, so can I explain?"

"If you must," Snape sighed deeply, clearly tired of Harry's incessant badgering.

"So he only have me a detention because I left class that day when I heard the voice and came straight to you. He said he couldn't make it look like anyone could ditch his class without getting in trouble for it. But I wasn't ditching I was only doing what you told me to do. So it's not fair I got detention."

"Did you explain this to him?"

"Well, no. I didn't want him to know about the voice. Or about you really."

"I can assure you, Professor Lockhart already knows about me," Snape said sarcastically.

"You know what I mean, Professor," Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't want him knowing that I was running to you."

"He will find out eventually. In fact, I plan on informing him that it is me he is to contact instead of Professor McGonagall in regards to you when I drop you off at detention."

"So I still have to go? Even when you know why?"

"It is not me who gave you detention, Potter. And if you are unwilling to discuss the situation with him then yes, you will still have to attend."

"But you could just tell him it wasn't my fault without telling him why."

"I am not in the habit of interfering with my colleagues' punishments, Potter."

"Fine," Harry said shortly. "Can we go now though?"

Snape glanced at Harry's empty bowl and stood up. "Get dressed, I will wait outside and then we will go."

Snape slipped out between the small gap in the curtain and pulled it closed behind him. "Of course I was going to get dressed," Harry grumbled, mainly to himself as he pulled on his trousers. "I wasn't going to wander down to detention in my bloody pyjamas, was I?"

"Potter," Snape growled from somewhere behind the curtain.

"That's not a swear word!" Harry defended himself. "Ron says it all the time!"

"I would hardly consider that a solid defense," Snape retorted, as Harry appeared from behind the curtain, fully dressed, his hair a little mussed.

"Okay, I'm sorry, let's go."

"I was serious about the soap, Potter," Snape threatened mildly, but he'd already started making his way towards the giant oak doors to leave.

"I know you were," Harry said, running to catch up. "But it doesn't count."

"Hm," was all Snape replied and Harry was fairly confident he'd gotten away with it.

Chapter Text

Harry dragged his feet as much as he felt he could get away with on the trip to the Defense classroom. He almost felt like he'd rather be having a detention with Filch instead right now. Not quite, but almost.

Snape, on the other hand, seemed to have no reservations on delivering Harry to his detention and repeatedly snapped at Harry to hurry up. So before long they were standing outside the classroom and Snape was rapping smartly on the door.

Almost instantly the door swung open, revealing Professor Lockhart who was clad in rather a bright set of purple robes.

"Severus! What can I do for you?" Lockhart hadn't spotted Harry, who was doing his best to stay out of sight behind the voluminous black robes of his potions professor.

"I am here to deliver, Mr. Potter." Snape stepped to the side so Harry was no longer hidden and nudged him forward so he was standing in front of him. "And to apologise for his tardiness."

"Harry!" Lockhart beamed. "I did wonder where you had gotten to. I couldn't quite bring myself to believe you wouldn't show." Lockhart winked at him and Harry tried not to shudder.

"An unexpected incident followed by an appointment at the Headmaster's request prevented Potter from being on time."

Harry frowned at Snape's explanation. That wasn't quite right, was it? Not that he was going to contradict him in front of Professor Lockhart, he wasn't that stupid.

"Not to worry, not to worry," Lockhart flapped his hands as if he were brushing away Snape's apologies. "These things happen. Come along, Harry. Lots to be getting on with." He reached out as if to grab Harry by the shoulder and Harry flinched back to avoid him, practically stepping on Snape's toes.

"Jumpy one aren't you, Harry," Lockhart commented, but not seeming the slightest bit embarrassed that he had caused such a reaction.

Harry however, flushed deeply at his words. "No," he attempted to defend himself, but it was futile as both wizards had witnessed his reaction.

Snape didn't back away from Harry's close contact, just placed a steadying hand lightly on his shoulder, light enough that Harry felt he could shake it off if he wanted to. Which he found he didn't.

"One thing before I go, Gilderoy." Harry felt his stomach drop at the thought he was going to be left alone with this man. "Mr. Potter's welfare has been entrusted to me by Professor Dumbledore. So from this point forth any information pertaining to Mr. Potter that you feel I should be made aware of should be directed to me. Instead of his head of house."

"Oh, keeping a firm hand on the boy are you?"

"Something like that," Snape said darkly. "I will take my leave," the wizard was obviously keen to extract himself from the situation.

"Have a good evening, Severus, thank you for dropping this scallywag off."

Harry looked up at his potions professor imploringly, desperate not to be left alone, although not fully understanding why he felt that way.

Snape gave him a dark look but said nothing as he lifted his hand from Harry's shoulder and turned away to stalked back along the corridor, leaving Harry to turn back and face his beaming Defense professor.

"Come along, Harry," Lockhart seemed to know not to reach out again but he gestured wildly for Harry to step forward, which Harry did reluctantly so the door could be closed behind him.

"Now pull a chair up to my desk, I have an exciting activity for us to do. You'll have to really pretend you've had a miserable time to your peers or they'll think I'm soft in detention."

Once they were both seated either side of the large mahogany desk, Professor Lockhart produced a huge stack of what looked like letters to Harry.

"Now, Harry. I know I said you needed to learn about the world of celebrity. And I put considerable thought into the best way to do that. And I think the perfect introduction could be helping me to answer some of my fan mail!"

Harry's eyes bulged as he stared at the frankly enormous stack of letters. "Uh, my handwriting is not the best, sir. And won't they want an answer directly from you?" Harry questioned.

"Well, yes of course that would be preferable, I would love to answer every single one, but there are just so many it's not feasible. I will certainly sign every single one but you get started writing the bulk of the reply and we shall see how you do."

Lockhart held out the letter on the top of the stack and Harry took it hesitantly. He pried the envelope open and slid out the letter inside and was immediately assaulted by the pungent smell of a flowery perfume. He scrunched his nose at the overpowering smell, wafting the letter slightly.

Lockhart caught onto his attempts to try and diffuse the scent. "Ah yes, quite a few of the ladies like to spray their letters with their scent," he laughed heartily. "Although, don't get me wrong, men like to do it sometimes too!"

Harry forced himself to smile but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. He attempted to take a deep breath before moving on to read the letter but he immediately regretted the action as the perfume travelled to the back of his throat causing him to have to stifle a cough.

"Uh, sir?" Harry asked after he'd read the first one. "What sort of thing am I supposed to write back when in the whole letter the only thing they've said is that your 'periwinkle-blue robes match the colour of your eyes?'"

***

As soon as Severus had learnt that Potter had been threatened by an older Slytherin student he knew the situation with the former death eaters was exactly as serious as he had suspected and that Albus needed to be informed immediately.

And so, as soon as he had left Potter in the delightful company of Gilderoy Lockhart, he made a beeline for the Headmaster's office, this latest altercation top of the agenda of their weekly meeting.

"Acid pops," Snape stated, and the stone gargoyle began to twist before him. He ascended the spiral staircase and knocked firmly on the oak door, the voice of the Headmaster permitting him entry immediately.

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted him, although he didn't get up, just gestured to the usual visitor's chair. "How are you this evening?"

"There has been an altercation I think we should discuss," Snape stated, ignoring the Headmaster's platitudes.

"Hmm," Dumbledore mused, a glint of knowledge sparked in his eyes.

"I take it you are already aware of what I am referring to?" Snape huffed, not much could be kept from the Headmaster for long.

"Only the vaguest notion, I had some information sent my way via a portrait on the second floor corridor."

"So you see why we have a problem?"

"Why don't you explain fully, Severus, so we can be sure we are on the same page?"

Snape nodded tightly. "I have just come from dropping Potter off at detention with Lockhart but that is besides the point. Prior to this he had his weekly check up with Pomfrey. And whilst she is sufficiently satisfied with his progress overall, it was discovered that he had sustained an injury that he had not divulged."

"Ah, you see I was missing that context," Dumbledore commented.

"You must appreciate I have only Potter's version of the story, however I am fairly adept at detecting any mistruth or misdirection. Which Potter is notoriously lousy at in any case."

The Headmaster smiled slightly at his Potions Master's tone.

"It is my understanding that there was a collision caused by Potter involving Terence Higgs ," Snape continued. "This was then escalated by Mr. Higgs in retaliation, resulting in an egg sized lump on Potter's forehead and the insinuation that he deserved far worse than he got."

Dumbledore's smile faded as he listened to Snape's tale. "Did the actions of Mr Higgs' father suggest that he was amongst the group of those who wished Harry harm?" the Headmaster questioned, referring to the period of time Snape had spent amongst the followers of Voldemort over the summer.

He pondered the question for a minute. "He was not as vocal about it as many of the others. But Angus has never taken a leading role within the ranks. I am certain he was not amongst the group who did not think the Dark Lord would return however."

"And what difference does that make?"

"Well, he is free to blame Potter for thwarting the Dark Lord's return without the fear that he had disavowed his Lord. Those who never denied their Lord are feeling particularly smug about their position and are more likely to take an active role in seeking revenge on his behalf."

"And you think they would recruit their children to do this for them?"

"I would not rule it out as a potential strategy. And Angus has obviously discussed it with his son for him to have taken such a targeted stance against Potter. But it may well have been an empty threat, especially considering he didn't do worse to Potter today."

"Do you have a suggestion on how to proceed from here?"

Snape slouched ever so slightly in his chair. "I will speak with Higgs. The younger, I mean. I am yet to decide if I want to make it known I am aware of his threat. His father will not be as easy to manipulate as Lucius who's standing with the Minister we were able to use as leverage."

"Will Lucius not begin to distance himself from Cornelius given the possibility that Lord Voldemort will return?"

Snape winced at the name. "I believe he plans to appear publicly loyal to the Minister for the meantime and if the Dark Lord is to return he will claim it was purely so he would be able to to act as a spy for him in the long run."

"Very interesting," mused Dumbledore.

Snape snorted. "Hardly. Lucius has always been on the side of whomever will benefit him the most."

Dumbledore smiled faintly but did not comment further and Snape felt a slight chill roll through him.

"How are you and Harry getting along?" Dumbledore abruptly changed the subject.

Snape gave him a dark look. "It hardly matters if I cannot protect him from the numerous threats coming from my own house."

"I have every faith in your ability to do that," Dumbledore tried to soothe him.

"The boy is already injured and he has been my charge for barely a day," Snape snapped.

"And so we must come up with a plan to prevent further altercations."

"Besides forbidding the boy to travel alone anywhere in the castle without a chaperone I'm not sure that is possible. And even then, two of Potter's little friends were with him on this occasion and he still came out with a head injury."

"Perhaps a more qualified chaperone is required?" Dumbledore mused.

"We cannot expect a teacher to walk Potter to all of his lessons and meals."

"I was not thinking of a teacher."

"Nor is it fair to expect a prefect to take on such a considerable responsibility."

"I quite agree it would be unfair to expect this of a fellow student," Dumbledore agreed.

"What do you have in mind, Albus? I will not continue to guess."

The twinkle had returned to the Headmaster's eye. "I believe a house-elf would do an admirable job at chaperoning Harry."

"A house-elf-," Snape paused, wondering why he hadn't thought of that himself. "That would be acceptable."

"Harry could summon one at will, they could alert anyone at the first sign of trouble and they are more than qualified at certain defensive and even offensive strategies."

"I will speak to Potter this evening, I assume he plans on leaving detention alone so I will intercept."

"Lovely."

"Do you have a particular one in mind, Albus?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

***

Harry had gradually lost the will to live as the evening had drawn on. He felt like they'd barely made a dent in the pile of fan mail that Lockhart expected them to answer and he couldn't imagine how late he'd have to stay if his teacher expected them to get through all of them.

Besides the copious adoring letters he'd had to wade through, Harry had also had to dodge Lockhart's probing questions about his childhood.

"How did your relatives manage to keep the press away from you whilst you were growing up, Harry? I myself made inquiries and could not get a hint of where you were living."

Harry shuddered to think of his Aunt and Uncle's reaction if Gilderoy Lockhart had shown up on their doorstep.

"I'm not sure, sir, you'd have to ask Professor Dumbledore," Harry answered, as he passed over a letter for Lockhart to add his signature to.

"He was less than forthcoming with me when I asked," Lockhart muttered to himself. "I could have been exceedingly helpful to you and your family if he'd allowed me access."

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

"I could have helped your family with bringing you up in the public eye."

"But I wasn't brought up in the public eye," Harry said, confused.

"Exactly! And what a travesty! You could be even more famous than me by now if I had been allowed to cultivate your image from the start."

"No offence, but I'm not sure I would have wanted that, sir."

"Oh nonsense, Harry, of course you want that! I'm sure you had a perfectly lovely upbringing but it could have been even better and filled with many more opportunities if I had been allowed to assist."

Harry didn't fancy correcting his teacher so just nodded mutely along.

"Well I always say better late than never and luckily we have the opportunity to get to know each other now! I mean outside of purely the teacher-student relationship of course," Lockhart beamed at him.

Harry's eyes widened but he was saved from answering by a sharp knock on the door.

"Come in," Lockhart called brightly.

As the door pushed open to reveal the Potions Master Harry felt like he'd never been so glad to see him.

"Severus, what can I do for you?" Lockhart questioned, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"As it is nearing curfew I came to escort Mr. Potter back to his common room," Snape answered snidely.

"Oh, is that really the time!" Lockhart glanced up at the large clock on the wall and discovered its large golden hands did in fact reveal it was five minutes before curfew began. "Well, do not trouble yourself, Severus, I will escort him back."

"I must insist," Snape pressed. "Potter, to me."

Harry tried not to show too much relief as he flashed a forced smile at his defense professor and scrambled to his feet. "Bye, sir."

"Have a good evening, Harry, Severus," Lockhart tried to remain cheerful but was clearly feeling put out.

Snape stepped aside so Harry could exit the classroom and pulled the door shut firmly behind him without responding to Lockhart's well wishes.

"You don't have to walk me back, sir. I can make it in time if I run."

"And what have I told you about running in the corridors, Mr. Potter?" Snape threatened mildly as he began to lead the way back to Gryffindor tower.

"I meant, like, hurry, not running, running," Harry explained, trying not to flush.

"Ah, well as that is not what you said, how was I supposed to know?"

"I thought you knew everything, sir."

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

Harry shrugged "I dunno, you just always seem to."

"Well that can't possibly be true, no one can know everything."

"Well you can't blame me next time I don't remember everything from the assigned readings then."

"That is not remotely the same, Potter, and you know it," Snape growled, but Harry could tell he wasn't really angry.

The two made swift progress through the corridors and given the proximity to curfew they didn't encounter anyone else on their walk.

As they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry expected Snape to utter the password and chivy him in, the quicker to be rid of him. But instead Snape stopped a few steps short and turned to look sternly at him.

Harry squirmed under the sudden scrutiny.

"We have one thing to discuss before you retire for the evening," Snape announced.

"Uh, okay," Harry said uncertainly, leaning back against the stone wall behind him.

"Whilst you were in...detention with Professor Lockhart, the Headmaster and I had a lengthy discussion."

"Right," Harry said, hating the feeling that they'd been discussing him without him there.

Both Professor Dumbledore and I feel it necessary that you not be alone anywhere in the castle, apart from when you are inside of your common room."

"What?" Harry practically whispered. "You can't be serious!" He quickly recovered from the shock to argue his case. "Why am I being punished when I didn't even do anything!"

"This is not a punishment, Potter," Snape said. "Merely the only way to keep you safe."

"But I wasn't even alone today, I was with Hermione and Ron and that didn't stop him!"

"Which is why your chaperone will be a little more qualified," Snape explained sarcastically.

"Chaperone," Harry repeated, looking horrified. "Nope, no thank you."

"I am not giving you the choice, Potter. This is happening."

Harry just continued to shake his head in despair and so Snape crouched down to his level, doing his best to not make him feel crowded against the wall. "I did not expect this to create such a response from you. What is the matter?"

"I don't want someone following me around everywhere. People will ask why, it's weird. And I need to be alone sometimes. Even from my friends," he explained, trying not to let himself get too worked up.

"I am afraid that it is not simply not safe for you to be alone at this time. You are not competent enough to defend yourself and do not take that as a criticism; it is merely a fact."

"This sucks," Harry declared, having no other response, scuffing his shoe against the wall he was pressed against.

"Yes," Snape found himself agreeing as he got back to his feet. "However, it is the situation we find ourselves in. And if I find out you have not been taking this seriously and employing your chaperone as required you will be punished. Quite severely, I assure you."

"So who will it be? And does it have to be all the time?" Harry tried to distract from Snape's threat by peppering him with questions. He should have known it was a futile exercise.

"Do you understand me, Potter?" Snape demanded. "Look at me."

"Well you haven't really explained the rules to me, sir."

"I never thought I'd hear you asking for the rules, Potter."

"Yeah, well I don't want you punishing me when I don't know how this is supposed to work," Harry defended himself.

"Any time you are outside of your common room and without at least two of your classmates you will call for your chaperone."

"But like I said, I was with two people today and Higgs still had a go at me."

"Mr. Higgs is somewhat of a special situation although I am not going to explain the intricacies to you. But rest assured once I am through with him he will not attempt a repeat of his earlier actions."

"Okay, so if he's a special case but also won't do it again why do I need a chaperone now?"

"Do not try and reason your way out of this, Mr. Potter."

"Ugh, fine. How do I call for them and who even is it? Not you, obviously, you're way too busy. Surely it can't be any of the teachers. Is it going to be Percy? Oh god, please say it's not Percy," Harry had had enough encounters with Ron's older brother to know that would be a miserable experience.

"It will not be a member of the faculty nor a student."

"Okay, phew," Harry let out the breath he'd been holding since he'd considered the possibility he'd become tied to Percy Weasley. "But who does that leave?"

"You are familiar with house-elves, I believe?"

"Uh, yeah, like your one Gibby?"

"Gibby does not belong to me, she is merely the one I choose to utilise. The school has a legion of such elves that work here. Teachers can call them at will for assistance by saying their name and the same power will be given to you so you are able to call on one for when you have need of a chaperone."

"They work here? What do they do? And how come we never see them?"

"That is not important right now, Potter. Focus. If ever you find yourself alone or with only one classmate you must call for a house-elf."

"What about when it's just me and another teacher? There's only two of us right now."

"Do be serious, Potter," Snape drawled. "I said classmate. A chaperone is not necessary if you are in the presence of a teacher. Although feel free to call one if it's just you and Professor Lockhart, you can't be too careful."

Harry snickered. He loved when Snape made jokes like that.

"So what name do I use?"

"The Headmaster had a specific house-elf in mind for you. Do not ask me why."

"Okay and who is it?"

"His name is Dobby."

Chapter Text

"Okay, shall we try and call him now?" Harry pushed off the wall he had been leaning against and was practically bouncing around Snape in his excitement to call the house-elf. The Potions Master observed him closely, shocked at how quickly the boy's attitude had changed.

"Very well," Snape sighed. "I suppose it would be prudent to practise before you actually find yourself in need. Come here." Snape gestured for Harry to stand in front of him again.

"Will I get in trouble for being out after curfew?" Harry suddenly questioned remembering how late it had gotten, as he finally stopped bounding around to stand in front of his professor.

"Do use your brain, Potter," Snape drawled. "You are with a professor."

"What? I was just asking. Professor Flitwick says there's no such thing as a stupid question."

Snape scoffed. "Well, he is sorely mistaken. Now focus, Potter. I do not have all night and neither do you."

"So, how do I call him?"

"You simply say his name and he will appear-"

"But you said it earlier and he never-"

"Mr. Potter, if you interrupt me one more time you will be writing lines as a consequence." Harry's mouth shut with an audible snap. He could tell Snape wasn't joking around with him now. "As I was saying, you only need to call his name and he will appear if your intention is to call him. As you so kindly pointed out," Harry squirmed under Snape's dark look, "I spoke Dobby's name earlier and he did not appear. This is because house-elves are proficient at sensing intention and at that moment that I spoke his name, I did so without the intention of having him appear."

Harry simply nodded his understanding. He was dying to ask exactly how that worked but he could tell Snape wasn't in the right mood to agree to explain magical theory to him just now.

"Shall I try now?"

"There is no try, Potter. If you call him and want him to appear, he will."

Harry only just managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"Dobby," he said clearly, focusing hard on the fact he wanted him to appear.

A soft crack and a creature that Harry thought looked much like Gibby but also different in ways, appeared beside the two wizards.

"Good evening, sirs!" Dobby was rocking on his feet in a fair imitation of Harry's excitement not two minutes earlier.

"Hi, Dobby!" Harry stuck his hand out to try and shake Dobby's tiny hand, but the house-elf just stared at the proffered hand with his large, green, tennis-ball-like eyes.

"Elves do not greet the way we do, Potter," Snape explained, and Harry dropped his hand back down by his side.

"Oh, sorry, Dobby, I didn't know."

"Little Master cannot be apologising to Dobby!" the house-elf cried. "No, NO that is not right! Dobby was wrong, bad Dobby, BAD Dobby!" To Harry's horror he started to whack his little fists against his head repeatedly.

"Dobby," Snape snapped. "Stop at once."

The elf obeyed immediately and Harry let out the breath he'd been holding in a whoosh.

"This is Harry Potter, Dobby," Snape gestured in Harry's direction. "I understand Professor Dumbledore has already discussed with you your new duty with regards to Mr. Potter."

"Oh yes, sir! Master Dumbledore told Dobby everything. Dobby is at Little Master's beck and call whenever he is needing me."

"Excellent. That is all. You may go."

"Wait! I wanted to-,"Harry started, but the house-elf had already disappeared with the same soft crack as before and Snape and Harry were alone in the corridor once more.

"Hey," Harry whined. "I wanted to talk to him! He's going to be my chaperone after all."

"You were vehemently opposed to the idea not five minutes ago, Potter," Snape commented mildly.

"Yeah well, you said I didn't have a choice. I just wanted to chat with him for a second."

"That is correct. But beyond proving to me that you are able to summon him and that you are aware of the situations in which you need to, there is nothing more that needs to be said tonight." Snape gestured towards the Fat Lady's portrait.

"I really do think I should get to know him. If he's going to be protecting me."

"And I really do think you should be retiring to your dormitory. Lest you want me to follow you inside and tuck you in."

Harry's eyes bulged in horror. "You wouldn't dare," he gulped. "Then everyone would know something is going on with us!" Harry recovered quickly, feeling triumphant in his reasoning.

"Oh yes, a professor ensuring a recalcitrant student is deposited in his bed after being caught out after curfew."

"But you said it doesn't count if I'm with you!"

"Ah, but no one else would know that, would they?" Snape smirked at him. "And if you were to tell them then they would think that something is going on with us," Snape's eyes were the ones gleaming in triumph this time and Harry knew when he was beaten.

"Right, okay, I'll just be going then," Harry said, his eyes downcast.

"A wise decision."

"Night, sir," Harry said, as he walked away to stand in front of the Fat Lady.

"I will see you tomorrow, Mr. Potter," Snape said in reply, causing Harry to glance back at his professor in confusion, he didn't have potions on a Wednesday. "My office, directly after dinner if you will, for our first...meeting."

Harry nodded quickly, he hadn't forgotten, not really. It had just slipped his mind was all. But he couldn't quite find the words to respond to his teacher, his stomach was suddenly in knots. Funny how Snape could cause that sort of reaction in him when before he'd been totally at ease with him not two seconds ago.

He managed to squeak out the password and slip through the portrait hole as soon as it was open wide enough for him to do so, certain of the fact that the weight of Snape's gaze didn't leave him until he was safely inside.

***

"Harry, where have you been?! Do you realise it's way past curfew!" Hermione raced over to him.

"Yeah, I can actually tell the time Hermione," Harry muttered, all of a sudden feeling too tired to deal with his friend's over-zealous attitude this late in the evening.

"Sorry, Harry. You know what I mean. But how are you? What did Madam Pomfrey say? Did you still have to go to detention?"

"Can we please not do twenty questions right now, 'Mione. I'm just really tired."

"Sure, but will you come and sit with Ron and me for a while at least? We just want to talk for a bit," Harry gave his agreement in the way he allowed Hermione to guide him over to their usual stuffed armchairs. He flopped down next to Ron, his eyes closing of their own accord.

"Hey, mate," Ron said, nudging him gently. "How was Lockhart?"

"Weird. But not as bad as I thought," Harry said, forcing his eyes open so he could look at his friend. "He just had me answering his fan mail. And kept going on about how it was a shame I wasn't raised in the public eye," Harry shuddered. "I kind of got the feeling he wanted to do it, be the one to raise me, I mean."

"Would that have been such a bad thing?" Hermione questioned, sitting down opposite the two boys.

"Look Hermione, I know you have some weird obsession with the guy but that is going too far even for you," Ron said.

"I'm just saying, Ronald. It's not like Harry had such a good time with his relatives."

That seemed to shut Ron up but Harry flushed hotly at her words. "Can we not discuss the Dursleys right now. Please," he said with a note of finality in his voice that Hermione didn't push for once.

"I presume Madam Pomfrey said you were all okay though, if she let you go to detention?"

"Yeah, nothing serious this time. I just had to eat and then I could go."

"You need to stop making this a habit, mate," Ron joked. "I don't think 'Mione's nerves can take it much longer."

"Or yours, Ron! You were just as worried as I was. You were the one who suggested we go and checked to see if he was still in the hospital wing after dinner!"

"Yeah, of course I was worried as well," Ron mumbled, his cheeks pinking a little.

"And what did Madam Pomfrey say in general?" Hermione asked. "You know, about the glamour and everything?" she lowered her voice to ask.

"I thought we weren't doing the twenty questions thing, Hermione," Harry moaned.

"We just want to know what's going on with you, mate," Ron stepped in. "You said to me the other day you'd tell me what was up when you were acting weird in Potions. And then Snape of all people comes looking for you at dinner that night and what, ate with you in the common room? And now you turn up past curfew and don't want to talk about it. Can't you see why we'd want to know what's going on?"

"You have to admit you've been acting quite strangely, Harry. We just want to help if we can," Hermione offered.

"Well you can't," Harry suddenly snapped, causing Hermione to recoil slightly. "I just mean... I don't know what I mean actually. I'm sorry if I'm being weird or whatever, I don't mean to be." His eyes flickered closed again, he didn't want to look at their reactions. "There's just a lot going on right now, that I don't...don't want to talk about. Sorry."

"That's fine, mate, we get it." Ron clapped him gently on the shoulder. Harry tried not to flinch, he really did. But his eyes were closed, he hadn't been expecting it. His eyes flew open against his will and he saw Ron pull his arm away quickly, the blush returning to his cheeks.

Harry scrambled for something to say, anything to get that look of embarrassment look off Ron's face.

"Okay, one thing," Harry started, a little too enthusiastically. "I've been told I need a chaperone when I'm not with you guys. Or if I'm with just one of you, or on my own."

"Is this because of what happened with Higgs?" Ron asked, looking equally relieved they were moving on.

"Yeah, I think so. And I guess maybe Malfoy too? Anyway, I have to call a house-elf called Dobby. He just appears when I call him."

"Cool!" Ron enthused. "I've always wanted a house-elf but mum said we don't need one with so many of us in the house to do all the chores. Can you call him right now?"

"Uh, I don't think I'm supposed to if I don't really need to," Harry said uncertainly. Snape hadn't explicitly said not to, but Harry had a feeling it was implied.

"I didn't even really know house-elves were a thing. Hadn't really heard of them until now."

"Who do you think does all the cooking, mate? And makes your bed in the morning"

"I dunno, I just thought it was magic! It’s not like I grew up with it like you! Hermione probably didn't know either, right 'Mione?"

Both boys turned to Hermione who had stayed unusually quiet during Harry's chaperone revelation.

"I've read about them in Hogwarts: A History. I'm not sure where I stand on it yet. They don't get paid."

"They don't want paying, trust me, Hermione."

"Like I said, I haven't made my mind up about it yet. But I do agree Harry needs a chaperone and they are the only ones who can apparate within the castle, so if you need help they're the only ones who can get to you straight away."

"Okay so, you call Dobby if you don't have both of us with you. But we were both with you today and you still ended up in the hospital wing."

"I was going anyway," Harry huffed. "But I do see your point, and I did tell Snape that but he didn't think Higgs would be a problem anymore."

"What has Snape got to do with this, mate?"

Oh god. Harry hadn't even noticed his slip up. "Uhhh well, it was him and Dumbledore who came up with the idea of me having a chaperone. Snape picked me up from detention and told me on the way back here." There, he'd salvaged it.

"How did Professor Snape even know about the thing with Terence Higgs though?" Hermione asked.

Damn, maybe not. "I thought I said I didn't want to talk about this," Harry said, angry now that he'd realised how much his friends had gotten out of him without him realising. "There's heaps of people still around," he gestured around the common room. "And it's private okay. Can I not keep anything to myself?"

"Of course you can, Harry, we were just asking-"

"Well don't, okay. I said I didn't want to answer your questions." He pushed himself to his feet, "I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

"Me too, I'll come with you," Ron also jumped to his feet, giving Hermione a sharp look. She just sent the same one back to him as if to say "you were pushing him too."

Ron quickly relented and just shrugged at her, before turning to scamper after Harry as he climbed the stone steps up to their dorm.

***

The whole of the next day Harry was feeling sour towards his friends. He couldn't tell if he was more annoyed at them for pushing him or more annoyed at himself for giving away so much without thinking. He didn't know why he felt he needed to keep Snape from them right now, it just felt like the right thing to do. He couldn't imagine what they'd say if he told them the whole truth, especially Ron. He'd already acted horrified when Harry had told him Snape was supplying him with his potion. God knows how he'd react if Ron found out he was supplying anything else.

The major downside of giving his friends somewhat of a cold shoulder was that without their usual chatting and messing around he wasn't as distracted from everything he tried to avoid thinking about as he usually was. His upcoming session with Snape, the voice he kept hearing, the Dursleys, to name but a few. Which ultimately wasn't helping his mood any.

Before he knew it, the day had flown by and he was picking at his dinner in the Great Hall. The other two meals had gone.. fine, he guessed. Quite well according to him, but he'd have to wait and see if Snape agreed. But now he really couldn't avoid thinking about their meeting, as it was happening directly afterwards. And that thought wasn't having a particularly positive effect on his appetite, appetite stimulating potion aside.

When he felt like he couldn't continue to push his broccoli around his plate any longer, he glanced up quickly at the head table. Snape wasn't there, hadn't been there the entire meal. So he hoped he was right to assume he was already in his office. He didn't feel like hanging around outside in the dungeon corridors waiting around for him.

"I need to go and collect my potion from Snape," Harry mumbled to Ron as he got to his feet. It wasn't technically a lie.

"Want us to come with?" Ron asked around a mouthful of steaming sausage. Harry felt a surge of regret for the way he'd acted towards his friend. Even after he'd been a moody bastard all day Ron was still willing to jump at the chance to help him.

"No, that's okay, thanks though. I guess I'll call Dobby. I'll see you later."

As he left the table, Harry perked up a tiny bit in excitement at the prospect of meeting with Dobby again, without Snape around to ruin the vibe.

When he was in the Entrance Hall he moved into one of the little alcoves so was out of sight of any stragglers making their way in for dinner. He didn't think calling Dobby was meant to be a secret from everyone, didn't think it could be kept a secret really, it was unavoidable that people would spot them together eventually. But for this first time he just felt like he didn't want anyone else to be around.

"Dobby," he said quietly, again focusing on wanting the house-elf to appear.

Sure enough, with a soft crack, Dobby was once again standing in front of him.

"Little Master is calling Dobby! How can Dobby be of service?" the elf gave such a low bow his pencil-like nose was practically touching the stone floor.

"Uh, hi, Dobby. Do you mind walking me down to Professor Snape's office?"

"Of course Dobby is not minding! This is precisely what Master Dumbledore is wishing Dobby to be doing. Anything that Harry Potter is needing, Dobby is gladly doing."

"O-okay then. Let's go," Harry began to walk towards the entrance to the dungeons, the little elf scampering happily alongside him.

"So Dobby," Harry began, determined to get to know the elf despite Snape's implication that it was unnecessary. "How do you like working at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, Dobby is liking it very much, Little Master. Master Dumbledore is treating us very kindly."

"But you don't, I mean, is it true you don't get paid?"

"We is not wanting paying, sir! No, NO, it is our duty to serve!" Harry was horrified to see tears welling in the house-elf's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just don't know anything, alright. Please don't cry!"

But it was too late, tears were already streaming down Dobby's thin face, his tiny body wracked by muffled sobs as he held his head in his surprisingly large hands.

"Oh heck," Harry cried. He crouched down, and tried to reason with the distraught house-elf.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Dobby. Honestly! I just don't know anything about house-elves and I want to get to know you, that's all. Please stop crying."

Dobby peeked up at him through the gaps between his fingers. "Little Master is wanting to get to know Dobby?"

"Yeah. I mean, of course. We'll probably be spending quite a lot of time together. I was hoping we could be friends."

"Friends! Little Master is too kind. If Harry Potter is wanting it then Dobby and Little Master will be friends. The very best of friends! Dobby is telling Harry Potter anything he is wanting to know."

Harry pushed back to his feet, letting out a deep breath, thankful he had managed to diffuse the situation.

"Let's walk and talk then, Snape will have my head if I keep him waiting."

"Dobby is hoping Harry Potter is not meaning that literally."

Harry chuckled, "nah, of course not. I just mean he'll be annoyed. And I would like to avoid that if possible."

The two chatted quite amicably after that as they descended deep into the dungeons, Harry finding out all about house-elves and their work and life. Learning tidbits about the magical world always seemed to put Harry in a good mood and by the time they reached Snape's office door, the dark mood that had been hovering over him the entire day had almost completely disappeared.

"I thank you for your service, Dobby," Harry said jokingly at the same time as knocking on the large office door.

"Harry Potter is not needing to be thanking Dobby! Dobby is more than happy to be serving."

Harry heard the customary muffled permission to enter and began to push open the door. "Bye Dobby," he said, slightly louder than necessary, mainly for Snape's benefit. He didn't need his teacher questioning if his rules were being followed at the first opportunity.

But what he saw when he entered the office caught him completely off guard and he felt his good mood deflate like a pin cushion. Because sitting opposite Snape's desk, in the chair Harry had assumed he would be occupying, was Draco Malfoy.

Chapter Text

"Mr. Potter, you need not dawdle on the threshold, come in and sit down." Draco twisted around in his seat so he could sneer at Harry without Snape seeing.

Harry managed to glower back but his heart began to pump a little more forcefully. The last time he'd been in such close proximity with Draco it had not ended well. What the hell was he doing here. Snape knew Harry was coming down straight after dinner.

After a pause, he did as he'd been told. The only remaining seat was directly next to Draco, so Harry made a point of dragging it a little away from the blonde boy, causing it to scrape unpleasantly across the stone floor. Snape gave him a dark look. Harry ignored him.

"Mr. Potter, I have called you here this evening in order for Mr. Malfoy to complete the final part of his punishment for the...incident in the owlery."

Harry shot his professor a confused look.

But Snape just looked expectantly at Draco. "Proceed, Mr. Malfoy," he prompted.

Draco turned to Harry. "My apologies for the events of last week, Potter. It was not my intention for Crabbe and Goyle to push you down the stairs."

"Draco," Snape said warningly.

The young Slytherin didn't even flinch at the harsh tone. "I'm sorry we didn't go for help, Potter, after you'd fallen," he tried again. "It was unconscionable and will not happen again."

Although the sneer had left Draco's face, Harry could still see it in his eyes. He didn't seem very sorry to Harry. Did Snape expect him to accept the apology? Because he bloody well wasn't going to.

After a few moments of silence, in which all that could be heard was the faint ticking of the large wall clock, the Potions Master stepped in. "You may go, Draco."

"But, sir, he hasn't accepted my apology," a tinge of a whine edged the boy's tone.

"He is under no obligation to. And as your only obligation was to present it, you may leave now."

Draco pushed back his chair to stand and flounced across the room, clearly peeved. The door closed behind the Slytherin with a little more force than Harry thought it warranted. But he wasn't going to say anything. Heck, he wasn't going to be the first one to say anything in this situation. He did slide down a little in his chair though, feeling considerably less tense now that Draco had left.

Snape turned his keen gaze on Harry now that Draco had left. Harry hated when he looked at him like that, it made him feel like the man was reading his mind. He was determined not to break the silence first though, so he purposefully avoided his teacher's gaze.

"I realise I said to Draco that you are under no obligation to accept his apology but I would like to hear your reasoning as to why you did not."

"You could have at least told me he would have been here," Harry sulked.

"That is not what I asked."

"I was just saying," Harry bit back angrily, his temper steadily rising. "You didn't have to spring that on me. You could have just told me yesterday. And then I wouldn't have felt so..so.."

"So, what?" Snape pressed.

"I don't know, alright! So bloody cornered. Maybe you haven't realised but I don't really feel like hanging out with Draco Sodding Malfoy right now."

"What have I told you about your language, Mr. Potter?" Snape commented mildly, too calmly for Harry's liking when he felt like his temper was about to burst.

"Goddamn it!" Harry exploded, jumping to his feet. "You never listen to anything I say, so what's the point?!" He stormed over to the door and tugged on the handle. But the door didn't budge.

Harry whirled around. "Let me out," he demanded.

"No," Snape said simply.

Harry couldn't decipher a single emotion on his teacher's face, or in his tone, and it made him furious.

He turned back around and began to alternate between tugging repeatedly on the handle and banging with his fists on the oak door. "Open it! Let me out, now!" But Harry's pleas were ignored and he only became more frantic. His whole body jerked with the force he was putting into wrenching at the door.

"Let me go, please, please!" He wasn't even aware he was begging now. He wasn't really aware of anything apart from the fact that he was desperate for the door to open.

He was so caught up in the haze of his desperation that he didn't hear the Potions Master approach. So it came as a surprise when two hands wrapped around his own, causing him to flinch as he always did when he was touched unexpectedly.

Snape didn't immediately prise his hands off the handle, just held them fast, keeping him still. Harry's breaths were ragged and he slowly began to feel an ache in his hands from gripping so tightly and pounding so hard. His professor seemed to sense that he was flagging and he slowly began to peel Harry's fingers away from the door.

"Come and sit down," Snape instructed firmly, once the handle was free from Harry's clutches.

Utterly mortified now that he was once more aware of his surroundings, Harry followed his instructions with his head bowed, still breathing a little raggedly. He slumped down in his chair, still refusing to look at his teacher. Snape however surprised him by sitting down right next to him, in the chair Draco had vacated earlier. He even angled it so he sat facing him head on.

"Are you feeling more in control?" Snape asked evenly.

"Yes, sir," Harry practically whispered.

"I apologise for not considering how Draco's presence may have affected you. I assumed my presence would have been sufficient to assure you that nothing untoward would take place."

Harry was shocked. He didn't think he'd ever heard his professor apologise. To anyone. "S'okay, sir," he said quietly. "I didn't really think anything would happen. I've been in class with him since and it's been mainly fine. I just haven't sat down with him so closely."

"Would you care to explain what happened from your perspective?"

Harry didn't say anything for a moment and then shrugged.

"That is not a sufficient answer and you know it, Mr. Potter. Now, do me the courtesy of looking at me whilst we are conversing."

It took him a second, but eventually Harry dragged his gaze up to meet his teacher's. He was expecting to be met with fury, or at least irritation, but Harry could still discern zero emotion on Snape's face. And that unnerved him.

"I don't know why I did that." Harry braved the silence.

"The part where you attempted to wrench my door off its hinges or your earlier refusal to accept Draco's apology?"

Harry scowled, partly at Snape's use of the Slytherin's first name. "Obviously I mean the door," he muttered.

"Hm," Snape leaned back fully in his chair, the picture of ease. "Well, I would like to discuss the latter if you are ready."

"Why does it matter?" Harry said wearily.

"I am interested to hear your reasoning."

"I don't know why you expected me to accept it."

"I did not say that, I only said I would like to hear your reasoning," Snape explained slowly.

Sometimes the way Snape spoke to him made him feel really thick. He huffed audibly and Snape merely raised an arched eyebrow.

"He didn't mean it. I could tell. So why would I give him the satisfaction? He's only stopped bothering me since because he's terrified of you. Or of Dumbledore maybe? I'm not sure."

"Professor Dumbledore, to you, Potter," Snape cut in.

"Right," Harry acknowledged, flushing slightly at the rebuke. "So it's not like he's actually sorry. He's just scared to get into trouble again."

"And what of your altercation with my door?"

Snape's change of direction caught Harry off guard. "Huh?"

"You quite lost control of yourself just now. And I would like an explanation."

Harry had assumed that they'd moved on from that. "I just felt like I had to..had to get away."

"Away from what exactly?"

Harry shrugged, but hurriedly spoke again before Snape could reprimand him for it. "Not from you. I'm not scared of you," he added.

"Illuminating," was all Snape said.

"Can we just forget about it? And get on with whatever you wanted to talk about."

"I would like to talk about this," Snape said.

"Why?"

"Because something is obviously bothering you. Evidenced by the way you are chewing on your thumb at this present time. Did you not get enough to eat at dinner?"

Harry yanked his thumb out of his mouth, unaware he'd even been biting at it. "No, I did. Eat enough I mean."

"Hm."

"You wouldn't know, you weren't even there," Harry bit back.

"Rest assured my presence is not required to be kept informed of your eating habits."

"You..you're spying on me?" Harry felt his temper rising again.

"If you would prefer to define it as such, then yes I suppose."

Harry couldn't believe the man had outright admitted that. "How?"

Snape stared at Harry for a long moment. "That I will not be disclosing."

"What! But I deserve to know if I'm being spied on," Harry's voice was increasing in volume ever so slightly and he knew he was moments away from Snape rebuking him for being disrespectful. He just didn't really care.

"That is your term, of course. I prefer to see it as doing my duty. A duty which you asked of me, as I recall."

Harry flushed. "Yeah, well maybe I wouldn't have asked if I knew you were going to be so bloody creepy about it!"

Snape's dark eyes flashed and Harry immediately knew he'd pushed too far.

"Mr. Potter, if I have to remind you one more time about your language you will become intimately familiar with a bar of my soap. Am I understood?"

"But I-"

"Am I understood?" Snape interrupted him angrily.

"Yes, sir," Harry stuttered, suitably chastised.

"And I very much consider words that your esteemed Mr. Weasley 'says all the time' to fit into that category of unacceptable language. I take it you know which words I am referring to." He gave Harry a pointed look, and waited until the boy nodded in agreement. "I have been incredibly lenient with you as of late, obviously that has given you the wrong impression if you think I will accept being spoken to with such little respect."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, sir," Harry tried to explain himself.

"On the contrary, Potter, I think you know exactly what you are doing. You know when you step over the line. You just have never faced the consequences of such actions. At least whilst you are at school."

Harry's eyes widened at the implications of Snape's last sentence.

"I-I don't want-can we not talk about that right now?"

"As you wish."

Harry was starting to feel incredibly confused. Sometimes Snape was perfectly happy to go whichever direction Harry wanted but the next minute he demanded to take charge of the situation.

"I'm not really sure what we're supposed to be doing here, sir," he said eventually.

"To a certain extent, Potter, it is largely up to you. Although I am more than happy to lead if you aren't willing to."

"I know I said to Madam Pomfrey that I'd talk to you about..certain things. But I'm just not ready to do that yet," Harry admitted in a small voice.

"That is understandable."

"So then what are we supposed to do?" Harry asked.

"There is much else we can discuss in the meantime," Snape said.

"Okay, like what?"

"Such as what occurred yesterday that left you in such a foul mood for the majority of today."

Harry blinked. "I wasn't in a foul mood. I was just annoyed."

"About what?"

Harry eyed his professor closely. The man seemed genuinely interested. And it wasn't too much of a revelation. In fact, maybe he even wanted his professor's opinion on the matter.

"Just Ron and Hermione. They were badgering me for information yesterday after I got back from detention, even when I told them I wasn't in the mood to answer all their questions. They just kept on and I didn't really realise until I mentioned your name and they picked up on it." Harry paused for breath. "Because I'm not sure I want to tell them about this yet. They already know you're making my potion, but that's it."

"I certainly have no objection in keeping this from your friends," Snape commented.

Harry tried not to roll his eyes. "Well I wasn't sure. But you don't understand. I don't normally keep anything from them, I tell them everything. So keeping this from them is weird for me."

"You have told them about your home life?" Snape questioned sharply.

Harry blanched. "Uh, well, no, not exactly."

Snape frowned. "Have you told them about the voice you have been hearing?"

"Oh, well, no actually."

Snape seemed to relax. "Then I think we have different definitions of 'everything', Potter."

"I just don't know what I'm actually allowed to tell them. Or if I even want to."

"And what do you mean by that?"

Harry gnawed at his bottom lip as he tried to organise his thoughts on the situation.

"Well, they'll just think I'm crazy if I tell them I've been hearing a voice and they'll think I'm even crazier that I'm going to you for help. Or at least Ron will definitely think that. He already freaked out when he found out you were making my nutrient potion. It was actually kind of funny because he said he'd never drink anything you had made and Hermione told him you make all the hospital wing potions and he looked like he was about to be sick." Harry tensed as he realised who he was regaling this story to. "Uhhh, no offence, sir."

"So you are concerned about their reactions?"

Harry relaxed as his teacher seemed to breeze over his tale of Ron's unsavoury reaction. "Well, yeah, they're my friends. I care what they think."

Snape looked bemused, as if it were a novel concept. "You have surmised correctly that this knowledge is not to be shared lightly. Until we have learned more about this voice that you are hearing, the Headmaster and I both agree that it would be prudent to keep those who are aware of the situation to a minimum. So I would appreciate your discretion in that regard."

Harry nodded his understanding and felt relieved that he didn't have to feel guilty about not telling his friends when he wasn't technically allowed to anyway.

"However, in regards to this," he gestured between them. "You have a little more agency. Your professors are all now aware of my increased responsibility when it comes to you. Although they are not aware of the particular circumstances as to why it has occurred. For numerous reasons that I will not be going into, the greater population of this school must remain ignorant."

"But I can tell Ron and Hermione?"

"If you feel you must. But I think it wise to limit it to only those two."

"Why? Why would it be bad for the rest of the school to find out? Not that I was planning on telling anyone who would listen. But why?"

Snape considered the boy in front of him. He had visibly calmed from his earlier outburst but the truth would rattle even a fully grown wizard. "Much like you, I cannot divulge everything at this time."

"So there is a reason?"

"There is always a reason, Potter."

"Yeah, okay. I get it. But will you tell me eventually?"

"We shall have to wait and see," Snape said evasively.

Harry frowned. "I don't like being kept in the dark."

"I don't suppose anyone does. But trust me when I say this is for your own good."

"I hate when adults say that," Harry mumbled, his eyes downcast.

"And why is that?" Snape sensed the feeling he had to tread carefully.

"Because they never mean it," Harry said shortly.

"Would you give me an example?"

Harry glanced up again, the careful look on his teacher's face confirming why his tone had changed. "No! I don't want to! This is exactly what I got so mad about with Hermione and Ron. I said I didn't want to talk about it but you're pushing me anyway." He could feel his bad temper bubbling away again and knew it was bleeding through into his tone.

"I was merely following along with your conversation, Potter."

"Fine! Blame it all on me," he sulked.

"You are experiencing quite the emotional rollercoaster tonight, Mr. Potter," Snape observed.

Harry sagged in his chair, flushing as embarrassment washed over him. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Hm. Perhaps it is time you retire to your dormroom for the evening."

Harry made a noise in agreement.

Snape stood and made his way around the desk. He reached into the top draw and pulled out the following week's supply of the nutrient potion and slid them across the desk. Harry sighed heavily but reached out to draw them closer to him.

"I made it to every meal today."

"So you did. Long may it continue."

Harry figured that was the only acknowledgment he was going to get and stood to leave.

"Actually, I was going to ask," he plopped back down onto his seat. "I know you said I had to come and see you every other day. Outside of class. But can we like, not have it that often. I already see Madam Pomfrey on Tuesdays and you on Wednesdays and it would just get too confusing. And I think it's unnecessary."

"Oh, you do?"

"Well, not unnecessary," Harry scrambled to rephrase. "It just feels like a lot. And I'm okay, I really am. And I promise to tell you as soon as I'm not or if I have a problem. And we'd find it really difficult to keep it a secret if I was running down here every other day. Especially if I don't have my invisibility cloak."

"Nice try, Potter," Snape said snidely. "But you are not getting your cloak back."

"Ever?" Harry was outraged.

"Not any time soon, that is for certain. I struggle to see why Professor Dumbledore gave it to a child in the first place."

"So I can't have it back until I'm eighteen! That's not fair, it's mine!" Harry was quickly losing the battle with himself to keep his voice down.

"Seventeen is considered the age of maturity in the wizarding world," Snape corrected.

"That's still ages! As if a year makes a bloody differ-" Harry clapped both hands over his mouth in horror.

There was a beat of silence in which Harry wished desperately for a hole to open in the floor and swallow him up.

"How disappointing, Mr. Potter," Snape eventually said, getting to his feet. "Leave those there," he gestured to the nutrient potions. "And follow me."

Chapter Text

Harry stumbled along behind his professor as he marched out into the corridor. For a split second, whilst Snape's back was turned, Harry considered making a break for it. But his escape plan was squashed as soon as it had been made as Snape took only a few steps down the corridor to push open the Potions classroom door before he turned back to face Harry.

"Inside. Sit at the front," was all he said.

Head bowed, Harry did as he was instructed. He lowered himself onto his seat as he watched Snape rooting around in a dusty cupboard above the row of sinks along the side of the classroom.

Harry's heart was beating hard and his hands started to sweat as Snape turned around to face him, a slim bar of soap in his hand.

Harry watched in misery as his teacher weaved through the desks to stand in front of him, only half registering his surprise when Snape crouched down to his eye level instead of towering over him as he usually did.

"I'll never swear again, I promise," Harry made a last ditch attempt to squirm out of what was about to happen.

Snape was unmoved. "It is of the utmost importance to me," he said clearly, not breaking eye contact, "that you understand that I mean what I say. I set a boundary for you, with a clear consequence if that boundary were to be crossed."

Harry was starting to feel sick and he hadn't even had a taste of the soap yet. The disappointment emanating from his professor settled heavily in his stomach. Snape broke off a sickle-sized piece from the bar and held it out. Harry kept his mouth firmly shut. Snape was unimpressed.

"You do not want to play this game with me, Mr. Potter. Open your mouth. Now."

A whimper escaped Harry's mouth as he finally parted his lips, opening his mouth enough so that Snape could place the small piece on his tongue.

"Two minutes will do," Snape informed him as he urged Harry's mouth closed with a finger under his chin, before standing up to his full height and stepping away.

Harry tried his best to keep the offending object as still as possible on his tongue. He watched as Snape sat down at his desk and began to rifle through the parchment on his desk as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

At first, he could barely detect anything apart from a slight bitter tang on his tongue. Not overly pleasant, but not dreadful either. But as the seconds ticked by, the slight tang became increasingly more pungent and his tongue began to sting something awful.

He clenched his fists tightly, his fingernails digging painfully into the softness of his palms, and he held himself stiffly, his eyes fixed on his teacher. Was the man even keeping time, he thought desperately. He looked the picture of ease and Harry hadn't seen him so much as glance at a pocket watch or clock the entire time.

His eyes began to water as his mouth gradually filled with saliva, making it impossible to keep the little piece of soap still. More and more suds frothed within his mouth and he silently berated himself for not having had the presence of mind to keep a count of the seconds himself so he could keep track of how long he had left.

Just when he thought he was going to involuntarily spit all over the desk out of sheer desperation, Snape rose from his seat and gestured for Harry to do the same. Harry leapt out of his seat, raced over to the row of sinks, opened his mouth wide and let the slimy soap drop into the sink, followed by a stream of frothy suds.

Snape reached around him to turn on the tap and Harry leant over gratefully to stick his tongue under the stream and rinse his mouth out. Cold, crisp water had never tasted so good, Harry thought.

He would have quite happily spent the next hour in this position, despite the fact that water had begun to escape down his chin and trickle down his neck, threatening to soak all the way to his shirt collar and jumper. But just moments later, Snape reached back over and shut the stream of water off and pressed a threadbare towel into his hands.

Harry heard his teacher back away and began to dry his face and neck slowly and carefully, unwilling to take a peek at the look of disappointment he was sure to see on his professor's face.

"Come and sit down, Potter," Snape finally instructed, growing impatient with the boy's dawdling.

Harry lowered the towel from his face, laying it down gently by the sink and made his way back over to the front row of desks.

Snape observed the boy's pink cheeks and sodden collar and sighed inwardly. The boy was refusing to look at him, no doubt embarrassed at having been disciplined.

"Look at me," Snape said, refusing to talk at the top of the boy's head. When the boy complied, Snape continued. "As I said earlier, it is imperative that you fully comprehend that I speak with the utmost resolution. I do not throw around empty threats for the sake of hearing myself speak. If I say something, I mean it. And at your own peril will you test me on that."

Harry nodded along miserably. "I am really sorry, sir. I'll never swear again, I promise."

"Hm, I suppose we shall have to wait and see if you really mean what you say, Potter. For now, you are forgiven."

Snape watched as Harry's shoulders slumped in relief, as if he'd been anticipating further punishment. The boy began to trace along his palm with the opposite hand's thumb, an action that piqued the man's curiosity.

"Give me your hand, Potter," he commanded, holding out his own hand expectantly.

Harry glanced up, curling his hands into fists instinctively, a worried look plastered on his face.

"Show me," Snape tried again, a little less heat in his voice.

"It's nothing," he assured.

"I suggest you hold out your hand as I have instructed, and allow me to be the judge of that."

Seeing no way out, Harry uncurled his fists but laid his hands flat on the table instead of within Snape's waiting palm. Snape didn't comment on that fact and just leaned down to inspect the deep furrows that he could now see were present on both of the boy's palms.

"Why did you not mention you had hurt yourself?"

"It doesn't hurt," Harry countered, drawing his hands away from his professor's keen gaze.

"Nevertheless, you have broken the skin in some places. May I?" he tipped his wand towards Harry's palms in a meaningful gesture.

"Can I say no?"

"Certainly," Snape responded easily. "After which I will escort you to the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey will keep you under observation to ensure you don't develop an infection in your hand."

"That is such an overreaction," Harry moaned, but he once again laid out his hands in silent defeat.

A few murmured spells later and the tiny half moons had vanished entirely.

"Your health is not to be trifled with, Mr. Potter," Snape gave the boy some space by leaning back against his desk. "So I would appreciate you taking it seriously."

"I do," Harry insisted. "This was just no big deal."

"Even so. If you obtain any injury whilst undertaking a punishment, it would be prudent to mention it."

"Well my mouth still tastes kind of soapy," Harry mumbled, the flush on his cheeks reappearing faintly.

"That is largely the idea," Snape drawled. "It should leave a bad taste in your mouth, a reflection of your deplorable language."

"But how am I supposed to know that!" Harry argued. "I don't know how any of this is supposed to work. You've never said. I don't know what to expect. I need to know-," he stopped abruptly.

"You need to know what?" Snape prompted.

"I need to know how you're going to punish me," Harry said shortly, eyes averted.

Snape's gaze darkened. "Forgive me for not bringing up that particular topic in our first meeting. I didn't consider it particularly conducive to what we're trying to achieve here. But if it's concerning you then certainly we can discuss it."

"I'm not concerned, I'd just prefer to be prepared," Harry said frankly.

The boy in front of him had switched from cycling through a myriad of emotions in the last hour to appearing disturbingly detached in a matter of seconds.

"Let me begin by saying you will not receive a punishment that I have not previously forewarned you about. I warned you several times of the repercussions of your foul language. In much the same way, I have made you aware of the consequence if you are to be caught breaking curfew. I am not looking to spring anything on you. Moreover, I am also not looking to punish you in the first place. My request to have more responsibility for your welfare was not simply so I would be given carte blanche in how I discipline you," Harry looked skeptical, but Snape pressed on. "And so, any punishment will follow the normal pattern of Hogwarts correction: lines, detentions, withdrawal of privileges. Any deviation from those, like what you have just experienced, you will be made aware of in advance."

Harry hadn't lost the skeptical look he had adopted. Although Snape approved of that more than the total detachment of the minute before.

"I will not, and I cannot stress this enough- look at me, Potter," he waited for compliance. "I will not physically harm you; I will not strike you." Harry's sharp intake of break at that revelation prompted him to say, "which is, I believe, what you were really asking."

Harry shrugged, and for once, Snape didn't pick him up on it. He also didn't press the issue further, the boy had gone through enough peaks and troughs tonight.

"Now that is out of the way, I strongly encourage you to have a quiet evening and an early night."

"Yes, sir," Harry murmured, he did feel quite drained.

"Let us go and collect your potion from my office and then you can call Dobby and be on your way."

***

Harry bade farewell to Dobby as he stepped through the portrait hole, automatically scanning the room for Ron and Hermione; he had some apologising to do.

Ron was sitting on one of the plush window seats that overlooked the lake but Hermione was nowhere to be seen. He slipped upstairs to stash his fresh supply of potions, before hurrying back down the stone steps to find his friends.

"Hey Ron," Harry began, plonking himself sheepishly down next to his friend.

"Hey. How was Snape? You were gone awhile."

"Oh, you know, fine. He just likes to discuss the potions, make sure I'm taking them right, y’know. Is Hermione around?" he deflected.

"Uh, I think she's in her dorm room, why?" asked Ron.

"I just wanted to speak to you both."

"Lemme get Ginny to fetch her," Ron said easily. "GIN!" he bellowed, causing more than half the common room to turn in their direction. Ron didn't seem to care though and began to beckon at her vigorously when she looked over until she begrudgingly got to her feet.

"I could have just gone up to her and asked her," Harry insisted, squirming under the glare of a number of irate Gryffindors.

"What?" Ginny hissed, clearly annoyed at the way she had been summoned.

"No need for the attitude, little sister," Ron returned. "Fetch Hermione for us, she's in her dorm."

"Please," Harry added quickly, glaring at Ron.

Ginny's cheeks flushed scarlet as she looked at Harry, and without responding to either Harry or her brother, she dashed away.

"She definitely fancies you, mate," Ron stated, as they both watched the youngest Weasley run up the stairs leading to the girls' dorm room.

"Don't be stupid."

"No, really! She wouldn't stop banging on all summer about how excited she was to meet you. And now she's here she can't even look at you without blushing, let alone speak to you."

Harry chose not to respond as he watched Ginny flounce back down the stairs, closely followed by Hermione.

"You could be nicer to your sister, Ron," Hermione immediately lectured. "She's not really made any friends yet, I think she's really homesick."

"Why does it have to be me who helps her? There's four of us here!"

"You should all be looking out for her, Ronald. She's your little sister."

"My bloody annoying little sister," Ron muttered. Harry's mouth tingled at the sense memory that word brought up and he shuddered.

"Hermione's right," Harry agreed. "You should be nicer to her."

"She doesn't really talk to anyone," Hermione continued. "Look, she's sitting alone. She just spends all her time writing in her notebook."

"What notebook," Ron perked up. "Like a diary?"

"I suppose," Hermione said. "Don't get any ideas, Ronald," she snapped, as she noticed the gleam in his eye. "She's never without it anyway, so you're not going to get a chance to read it."

"Whatever," Ron grumbled. "I bet it's something mum told her to write in, to keep track of all her feelings or something. Anyway, mate, you wanted to talk to us?"

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to say... to say sorry for acting like such a prat today."

"You were being quite pratish," Ron agreed.

"I was just annoyed you were pushing me to answer questions I'm not really ready to answer when I asked you not to. But I shouldn't have let that drag on the whole next day. So, I am sorry."

"It's okay, Harry, we're sorry too, we just wanted to know that you're okay."

"Yeah, I get that."

"And are you? Okay, I mean," Hermione asked gently.

"There's a lot going on," Harry said slowly. "Some things that I've been told I can't tell you. But don't worry, the teachers know about it. I'm not just dealing with it on my own or anything."

"Well, that's good."

"That's if they're actually listening to you, unlike last year," Ron pointed out.

"They are," Harry insisted. "I promise."

"Whenever you can share more, we're always here to listen," Hermione offered.

"Let him have this, 'Mione. Just because you can't stand being left in the dark."

"It's called being supportive, Ronald," Hermione snapped. "You should try it out with Ginny."

"Oh, whatever," Ron groaned. "Hey, how about we go and visit Hagrid, we have ages until curfew and I haven't seen him yet this term. Plus Fred and George said he has a litter of Crup puppies that he's raising, I wanna see their forked tails.

"Uhh, I thought I'd just have a quiet night and get ahead on some homework," Harry tried, painfully aware of the instructions Snape had given him.

"Maaate, c'mon," Ron whined. "We've barely had any fun since term started. You've ended up in the hospital wing more times than I can count already. All we've done is lessons and homework."

"Only twice," Harry lied quickly. Only twice that they knew about anyway.

"You know what I mean. I want to get out of here anyway, it's getting too stuffy. So I can go on my own, and you can stay here and work on your homework and be bored out of your mind, or you can come with me and play with Hagrid's new puppies and sample whatever new baking project he's started."

"Well, I'd rather keep my teeth in my mouth so I'm going to keep working on my transfiguration essay," Hermione said primly.

Ron turned his pleading tone on Harry. "Please come with me, Harry. Please, please, pleeeease."

Harry chewed on his lip, Ron was right, it was ages until curfew, plus it was still fairly light outside. Snape had only strongly encouraged him to get an early night, not outright demanded. Right?

"Alright, fine! But if Hermione isn't coming I'll have to call Dobby to walk with us," he stipulated.

"Excellent! I've been wanting to talk to him. I need to ask what secret ingredient they put into the beef stew so I can pass it along to mum. It never tastes as good when she makes it."

"Are you sure you don't want to come, Hermione?" Harry tried.

"Positive. So keep yourselves out of trouble."

"Us? In trouble? Never!" Ron said in mock offence, jumping to his feet.

The two boys raced out of the common room, Harry's mood significantly heightened at the prospect of seeing Hagrid as well as the fact he'd reconciled with his friends.

"Dobby!" he said clearly, as soon as the portrait hole had closed behind them.

"Wicked," Ron exclaimed as the house elf popped into existence beside them.

"Dobby, this is Ron, my best friend," Harry introduced them, as they began to walk down the corridor.

"A Weasley! Dobby is knowing all about the Weasleys from Masters Fred and George," the house elf squeaked.

"You know my brothers, Dobby. That's cool."

"They is always in the kitchens. We is happy to serve them whenever they visit."

"They know how to get into the kitchens, the bastards! They've never told me how to get in," Ron said, outraged.

"Dobby is not telling either. Dobby is not supposed to tell."

Ron looked extremely put out at that. "They'll never tell me either. This is the kind of thing they love to hold over me."

"Sorry to call you again this evening, Dobby. But we're going down to Hagrid's," Harry interrupted Ron's grumbling. "That's okay isn't it?"

"Of course, Master Harry. Dobby is having no problem with that. We is going wherever it is you are needing to."

The trio descended down from the tower and reached the Entrance Hall fairly quickly given how energised both boys were. Stepping out into the rapidly cooling evening air, Harry breathed in deeply, he loved this time of year and he was secretly glad Ron had practically forced him to come along.

Once they'd left the confines of the corridors, the boys raced each other down the grassy slope towards Hagrid's cabin, an inviting sight with the flickering golden light visible through the windows and its gently smoking chimney.

Chapter Text

Ron knocked cheerfully on Hagrid's door, a knowing look passing between the two boys as Hagrid didn’t immediately swing the door open as he usually did. A few moments longer and the door was cracked open enough that one of Hagrid’s beady eyes could be seen, straining to see who was standing on his doorstep.

"Harry, Ron," he greeted them, opening the door fully as soon as he recognised them. "Come in, come in, I don't want the puppies ter get out, little scamps." The two boys hurried over the threshold and were immediately surrounded by a pack of four puppies who began barking excitedly.

"Aren't they jus' adorable,'' Hagrid said, gazing lovingly as he watched on. "But how did yer know I had them?"

"The twins," Ron supplied as he crouched down to greet them.

“Ah, yes, o’ course,” Hagrid seemed to relax at that revelation.

"Their tails!" Harry exclaimed as he also knelt down to stroke the excitable puppies who were thrilled they could now reach Harry's face to lick it. He ran his hand along the spine of one, stopping at the fork in its tail.

"Crackin’, aren’t they? Technically I should 'av had the fork removed by now. They're ten weeks and the law says it should be done by eight at the latest," he shifted uncomfortably. "It doesn't hurt them or nothin', just so the muggles don't notice them. But I can't do the charm and, well, I'm not sure I can bear to ask someone else ter do it."

"If it doesn't hurt them then what's the problem?" Ron asked, who was also currently getting a thorough face washing from two of the puppies.

"S'not like they're goin' to run inter any muggles up here is it? Doesn't seem fair to change 'em that way."

"But if that's the law, Hagrid, then maybe you should just ask someone. I'm sure Professor Kettleburn will do it for you," Harry suggested.

"Arr, P'roffesor Kettleburn feels the same way I do," he waved off their concerns. "Can I get you two some tea? A slice of cake?"

"Just tea for me, please," Harry said quickly.

"I'll try a piece of cake," Ron said cautiously, getting to his feet to peer more closely at the large round cake that was placed in the middle of Hagrid's dining table.

Harry also watched as Hagrid began cutting a slab off for Ron. He scrunched his nose as its sweaty appearance. Maybe it was just the heat of the small cabin that was making the icing melt slowly; he hoped so for Ron's sake.

"Are you planning on keeping all of these puppies, Hagrid?" Ron asked. "I'm not sure Fang is enjoying the company." They all looked over at the boarhound who was clearly trying his best to keep his distance from the rambunctious puppies in the cramped space.

"Oh nah, I'm just raisin' 'em for now. I have a few people ready to take 'em when they're older. They're a bit too needy right now for most folk to handle." Harry stepped over to pat Fang reassuringly on his large head and was rewarded with a dollop of drool on his shoe.

"How has the start of yer second year bin treatin' yer then?" Hagrid asked, as he handed Ron his cake and poured out two enormous mugs of tea for himself and Harry.

"Oh, you know, nothing crazy," Ron answered, as he sat down to tuck into his cake. "At least for me. Can't say the same for Harry."

Harry didn't say anything. He just resumed playing with one of the puppies who had brought him a rubber tug chew and growled playfully until Harry grabbed the other end.

"Why's that then?" Hagrid prompted.

Harry sighed and released his grip on the toy, the puppy running gleefully away with his prize. He flopped down next to Ron and accepted the mug that Hagrid slid his way as he sat down opposite them.

"It's just been a bit hectic," Harry started slowly. "Lots going on. And I err, I have a chaperone, I'm not sure if you saw him outside. His name's Dobby, he's a Hogwarts house elf."

"A chap'rone?" Hagrid repeated. "Why's that necessary?"

"Harry keeps getting attacked by Slytherins," Ron supplied helpfully.

"Attacked?!" Hagrid practically roared as Harry elbowed Ron painfully in the ribs.

"It's not like that," Harry insisted.

"What would you call it then?" Ron asked. "Malfoy pushed you down the stairs and Higgs slammed you into a wall."

"Technically it was Crabbe and Goyle who pushed me down the stairs," Harry muttered.

"Was tha' the Owlery stairs?" Hagrid cut in.

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"I heard a student had fallen down 'em. Was told at the staff meetin'. Didn't know it was you though. Dumbledore didn't mention tha'."

"Brilliant," Harry huffed.

"And what about this other bloke? Higgs did ya say, Ron?"

"Well I bumped into him, by accident," Harry explained. "But he didn't take it very well and shoved me and I banged my head. It wasn't a big deal. And the Malfoy thing was technically an accident. Anyway, Snape and Dumbledore are dealing with it."

"Snape?" Ron asked.

"He's their head of house," Harry said quickly. "So makes sense."

"Fair enough," Ron let it go, partly because he was distracted trying to extract his trouser leg from the jaws of one of the crup puppies.

"Yer ought to be careful, Harry. Keep yer friends close," Hagrid advised.

"I do! And now I have Dobby too, so I'll be fine," he took a big gulp of his tea, sloshing some of it into his lap due to the oversized rim.

***

After Ron had struggled through a second slice of cake that he'd been unable to refuse, Hagrid insisted it was time for the two boys to leave before they were caught out by curfew. They said goodbye to the puppies, both making sure to give Fang a farewell pat so he didn't feel left out.

"Could I just ask yer not to, er, mention the puppies to anyone," Hagrid mumbled as they opened the door to leave. "They'll be gone soon and it's just fer the best if people don't start askin' questions."

"You don't have to worry about us, Hagrid," Ron assured him. "Your secret is safe with us."

Harry also smiled reassuringly before they closed the door hurriedly to prevent any escapees, before calling Dobby to walk with them back up the grassy slope towards the castle just as the light was fading in the sky.

"Aren't you glad you came along?" Ron teased, as they hurried along the maze of corridors towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Sure, it's always good to see Hagrid. I wish we could have convinced Hermione to come along too."

"Me too. Although you know she would have given Hagrid a hard time about the puppies' tails. Even more than we did."

"That's true," Harry conceded. "Let's wait 'til Hagrid's given them away before suggesting another visit to Hermione."

"Good plan," Ron agreed. "So Dobby, any chance you can give us a hint about the whereabouts of the kitchens? You don't have to tell us exactly, we can do some of the digging..."

Harry tuned out Ron's pleading as he began to feel a sense of familiar dread. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end and his stomach dropped. He stopped walking abruptly, causing Ron to glance back at his friend's odd behaviour.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"No, no, no," Harry murmured, mostly to himself, beginning to rock backwards and forwards on his heels.

"What?!" Ron repeated, a little more panicked, grabbing hold of Harry's arms to stop his rocking.

"Dobby..get Snape..please," Harry managed to say through gritted teeth as icy fear began to seep through his body. The elf disapparated immediately.

Let me rip..kill..eat...

Harry was only distantly aware of Ron's frantic voice right beside him.

Cold..must feed..must hunt

Harry collapsed, or he would have if Ron hadn't already been desperately hanging onto his forearms. His knees buckled and Ron braced himself so he could take most of his friend's weight, both of them sinking to the ground as Harry remained mostly unresponsive.

***

The sudden appearance of a house elf in his quarters naturally startled Severus Snape. He was not accustomed to anyone appearing unexpectedly on his living room carpet. But he threw off the shock as soon he recognised the elf as the one Albus had tasked with chaperoning Harry Potter.

"What is it?" he demanded harshly, tossing his book aside and standing abruptly.

"It is Master Harry, sir, he is needing you."

"Where?"

"I is showing you if you is following me."

"Lead the way," he snapped.

They dashed along the corridors together, Snape trying not to let his imagination run wild with whatever difficulty the trouble magnet had gotten himself into this time.

Dobby came to an abrupt halt as they turned a corner, the Potions Master coming very close to colliding with him as he'd been so close behind.

Snape saw two boys on the ground in the middle of the corridor, a shock of red hair informing him that the Weasley boy was somehow involved.

"Potter! Weasley!" Snape announced his presence as he swiftly closed the distance between them.

"Sir! I don't know what happened," Ron cried, as soon as he noticed his teacher. "He just froze and then collapsed. I didn't know what to do."

Snape knelt beside them, taking in Potter's pale face that was cradled in the Weasley boy's lap.

"Did you hear anything out of the ordinary, or see anything?" he demanded.

"Uh no, no, I don't think so. He just froze and then collapsed. I just stopped him from hitting his head."

"Did he lose consciousness at any point?"

"Er, no? He wouldn't speak to me but I'm pretty sure he stayed awake the whole time."

"Very well. Dobby, escort Mr. Weasley back to the Tower." He reached out to shift the unresponsive boy off Ron's lap.

Ron jerked himself and Harry away from Snape's outstretched hand. "I'm not leaving him."

"I suggest you do as you're told, Mr. Weasley," Snape threatened, as he reached out again. This time managing to take hold of Harry's arms and pull him slowly to his feet.

"It's fine, Ron," Harry surprised them all by speaking, as he swayed ever so slightly. "You can go."

Ron looked torn. "Alright, mate," he said slowly. "If you're sure? I'll wait up for you," he assured.

"There will be no need, Mr Weasley. I suggest you go straight to bed. Speak of this to no one."

Ron didn't get a chance to reply as Dobby began to pull on his wrist with a surprising strength, dragging him away.

"Can you walk, Potter?" Snape asked, as soon as the two of them were out of sight.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Come this way then."

Snape half guided, half dragged Harry over to a seldom used classroom a few steps further down the corridor. He pulled out a chair for him to sit in and Harry collapsed gratefully down into it. It was certainly better than lying half on the cold stone floor, half on his best friend.

"I distinctly remember telling you to have a quiet evening and an early night, Potter."

Harry shuddered. "It's not curfew yet," he tried to defend himself.

"What happened?" Snape ignored his excuse.

"We were just walking back from Hagrid's," Snape sighed audibly, "it was before curfew and we were with Dobby," he insisted quickly. "And we were nearly back but then I felt funny. Like, I knew what was going to happen before it did. And then I heard it again. The voice."

"What did it say?"

"The same as the other times. That it's hungry, that it wants to kill. I think this time it said something about hunting. It's never said that before."

Snape watched as the boy gradually regained the colour in his cheeks as he spoke, his body language becoming more relaxed. That was an odd development, the boy being relaxed in his presence.

"And how did you know it was going to happen?"

"It's like I could sense it. All my hair stood on end and I got a funny feeling in my stomach. And then maybe a few seconds later I heard it. The other times I've not had a warning like that."

Snape ran a hand through his hair, his brain whirring with possible theories relating to this latest development.

"Will this ever stop happening, sir?" Harry eventually asked quietly.

"I cannot answer that, Potter. We are working off very little information. I can only insist that you continue to report to me all that you are experiencing so we don't miss a potential breakthrough."

Harry nodded forlornly.

"Before you answer my next question I want you to think about it. I don't want your usual, dismissive attitude. Do you need a check-up from Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry opened his mouth immediately to respond but before he could get any words out, Snape cut him off. "Ah- I said to consider it, Mr. Potter."

Harry glared up irritably at his teacher. He made a show of considering the question before he tried again. "Honestly, sir, I'm fine. It just always shocks me for a second. But I'm alright. I should be used to it by now," he muttered.

"This is not just something to 'get used to', Potter," Snape disagreed. "This is highly irregular. And not something to become complacent about. Your reaction is valid."

"I just wish my reaction wasn't to completely freeze. I hate that."

"As there is nothing tangible to fight against, for now there seems to be no other option."

Harry slumped forward, resting his head in the crook of his elbow against the desk. "I hate feeling so helpless. And now I'm going to have to explain to Ron what's happening."

"I cannot allow you to divulge anything to Mr. Weasley for the time being."

"Well he was there, he saw it. He's gonna bug me until I tell him something."

"He witnessed nothing apart from your reaction. He heard nothing and saw no one. You may certainly tell him that I, along with the Headmaster, am not allowing you to reveal anything."

Harry sighed loudly, "I'm not sure he's going to let it go that easily."

"Tough. That is all you may say. In the meantime, the Headmaster and I are doing all we can to resolve this issue," Snape tried his best at reassurance.

"How far have you got?" Harry needled, perking up again.

"I will inform you when we have an update."

"So in other words: nowhere," Harry retorted. "Fantastic."

"Adjust your attitude, Mr. Potter," Snape said bluntly. "As I said, we are working with limited information. Not everything can be solved at the drop of a hat. Trust you will be the first to know when we have information to share."

Harry felt too weary to argue anymore. In fact, as he rested his head back down against the desk his heavy eyelids slipped closed and he didn't bother to force them open again.

"Oh no you don't," Snape snapped his fingers right in front of the boy's face to capture his attention. Harry flinched when he opened his eyes, startled at finding his teacher's hand so unexpectedly close to his face. Snape didn't comment on his reaction. "You are not falling asleep here. I assume you do not want me levitating you to your bed."

"Can I go then?" Harry asked bluntly.

"What did I just say about your attitude, Mr. Potter? I know that you are feeling frustrated but that is no excuse and we cannot keep having this conversation."

"May I be excused, sir?" Harry tried again, putting what energy he had left into keeping his temper at bay.

"I will escort you to your common room, yes," Snape said.

Harry pushed up from the desk, and followed his teacher out of the room. They weren't too far from Gryffindor Tower and soon enough arrived at the portrait hole where Snape turned to Harry and he braced himself for the inevitable lecture.

"The next time I tell you to have an early night, I expect you to return to your common room and remain there."

"I just thought it was a suggestion," Harry mumbled.

"You knew exactly what I meant, young man. But let me spell it out for you this time, just so it's absolutely clear," he crouched down to Harry's level. "You are to go straight to your washroom, take care of any ablutions, and go straight to bed. Am I understood?"

"What're ablutions, sir?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Potter, I ought to equip you with a dictionary," he rolled his eyes, and returned to his full height. "Ablutions refer to the acts of washing oneself: brushing your teeth, washing your face, for example. That is by no means an exhaustive list, I'm sure you can come up with a few more I needn't mention directly," he said with a pointed look, causing Harry to flush.

"Right, I've got it," Harry looked away, embarrassed.

"'Lo, he can be taught," Snape muttered. "Off you go."

Harry scrambled through the portrait hole, with a muttered goodnight. He did as he was told and headed straight to the washroom, took care of his 'ablutions', and slipped into his dormitory without having to talk to anyone else.

Ron seemed to have listened to Snape's 'advice' too, and was lounging in his bed, although his bed hangings were still open. He sat up straight as he noticed Harry slip into the room, his eyes brimming with questions.

"Please don't shrug me off and tell me you're fine, Harry. That was seriously scary to watch you like that. And you wanted Snape of all people to come and save you? I have so many questions."

"He didn't come and save me," Harry defended, flopping down onto his own bed.

"He sort of did, mate. You didn't even respond to anything I was trying until he got there, I felt so helpless."

"Yeah, well, join the club," Harry said stiffly.

"So what's going on? And what's Snape got to do with it?" Ron pressed.

"I'm not allowed to say. Sorry. Snape said. And Dumbledore actually. And trust me, you don't even want to know."

Chapter Text

Just as Harry had anticipated, Ron was unwilling to let it go so easily. He didn't badger him with words, but for the rest of the week, Harry had to endure sidelong glances and meaningful looks from his best friend. It got to the point that Hermione picked up on the fact that they were having some sort of bizarre, silent fight.

"What is going on with you two?" she finally snapped, as they were sat together in front of the fire in the common room on Sunday evening after a particularly strained dinner. "You've been off with each other for days and I clearly can't leave you to sort it out between yourselves anymore."

"Ask Harry," Ron quipped straight away. Hermione turned to look directly at Harry, who was busy sending Ron a disdainful look.

"Nothing," Harry stressed. There were still a fair number of people still around, so they were all keeping their voices down so as not to draw attention to themselves.

"Well since the morning after you came back from Hagrid's you've both been weird. Don't think I haven't noticed. Did something happen whilst you were there?"

"No!" Harry insisted at the same time as Ron said "yes".

"Okay fine," Ron conceded. "Nothing happened while we were at Hagrid's."

"After then?" Hermione pressed.

"Just stop it, Ron! You know I can't talk about it."

"So there is something?"

"Fine, yes, but I can't talk about it!" Harry all but exploded. "But both Dumbledore and Snape have said I'm not allowed to say anything and you know that, Ron, but you're still trying to make me get into trouble by telling you."

"I'm not trying to get you into trouble, mate! It was just bloody scary-"

"Shut up! Stop talking or I'm really going to lose it!" Harry was on his feet.

"Alright, alright," Hermione raised her hands in defeat. "I get it, we don't want you in trouble, Harry. Of course not. Ron's just obviously concerned about you. Sit down, please."

"I'm fine," Harry said automatically, as he sat back down. "It's fine."

"It's not though, is it?" Ron said quietly. "I don't want to fight about it, and I don't want to get you in trouble. But it's definitely not fine."

"The other day you were the one saying not to push him, Ron," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, but now I've seen...something."

"Ron," Harry said warningly. "You don't know what's going on. I've told you the teachers are handling it. And yeah that includes Snape, shock horror, I know. But I don't want to say anymore about it. Like I said, I'm not allowed to. So please drop it."

Ron huffed and looked pleadingly at Hermione, but she just shook her head at him.

"Alright, fine, I'll drop it," he conceded. Harry slumped in relief. "Merlin, what a start to the term, I feel exhausted already and it's only been two weeks. Not sure I have it in me to survive a whole year if it carries on like this."

"Maybe if you tried a bit harder to do you homework as soon as it was set you wouldn't have to stay up so late the evening before its due to get it done."

"I'm not talking about homework, 'Mione. I'm talking about trying to keep this one alive", he jabbed his finger into Harry's upper arm. Harry punched him in retaliation. Maybe a little harder than he should have.

"Not your job," Harry retorted, as both boys rubbed at their respective injuries. "You literally just said you would drop this."

"I am, I am," Ron assured. "I was just saying, like, in general, y'know."

"So glad we cleared that up," Hermione said. Harry could sense only a light dusting of sarcasm in her words, and he took that as a win. "I'm going to study with Anthony and Padma in the library for the rest of the evening now, I probably won't see you until you head to bed. So am I right in thinking that we are still meeting for early breakfast?"

"Uh yeah, please, if you don't mind," Harry offered her a grateful smile.

"Excellent, see you both then," she gave Ron a meaningful look and he stuck his tongue out childishly at her. She huffed and flounced off.

"Thanks for bringing it up in front of Hermione," Harry said, unable to completely let go of all his anger.

"I didn't bring it up, she did!"

"Yeah but you've been acting so obviously this whole time you knew she'd figure it out eventually."

"I thought you wanted to drop it?" Ron said.

"I do! I'm just saying, I thought I could trust you to keep this to yourself but obviously I can't."

"That's hardly fair! I didn't say anything. You know what Hermione's like at figuring these things out."

"She would have had nothing to figure out if you'd just been normal about it from the start."

"Sorry I can't act normal after seeing my best friend collapse in the corridor out of nowhere and become unresponsive until Professor-bloody-Snape of all people comes along to rescue you," Ron hadn't raised his voice, both of them were conscious of the people all around them. But his tone was harsh enough that Harry's stomach began to squirm. "That's not normal, mate! There's nothing normal about that. It's bloody abnormal, actually. So if you want me to apologise for that, fine, I'm sorry."

"I don't want an apology, I just want you to keep your nose out of it!" Harry stressed.

"Fine, consider it done," Ron finally snapped, getting to his feet. "It's hard work being your friend sometimes, Harry. I'm only trying to look out for you. But if you would rather I didn't, then fine. Message received, loud and clear. Enjoy your breakfast with Hermione. Think I'll take the lie-in this time." And with that, the redhead turned on his heel and left Harry sitting alone by the fire, feeling chilled despite the heat it was radiating.

Harry glanced around self-consciously, wondering anxiously if anyone else had noticed their argument. That was all he needed, to stoke the rumour mill. But everyone else was too wrapped up in their own groups, laughing and joking, to bother being a witness to his misery. And all of a sudden, Harry didn't feel like sitting on his own in a common room filled with everyone else enjoying their evening.

Before he could overthink it he was stepping out of the portrait hole, summoning Dobby quietly and descending into the depths of the castle.

Dobby nattered away for the entirety of their journey, not requiring much input from Harry, the elf seeming to sense that he wasn't in the mood for an actual conversation right now.

By the time they reached the dungeons, Harry was feeling a little resentful of even the elf's perpetual good mood.

"Thanks, Dobby," he said sharply, cutting him off from a long winded story as he knocked on Snape's office door.

"Dobby is not needing thanks from Harry Potter," he insisted. "Dobby is happy to serve."

"Right, thanks, you can go now."

"Dobby is waiting until Professor Snape is arriving. Dobby is not to be leaving Harry Potter on his own."

At that precise moment, the office door swung open, Harry's dour Potions professor appearing in the doorway.

"Mr. Potter," he greeted. "What can I do for you?" Dobby needed no further prompting and disappeared with his customary soft crack.

"Uh, I just needed to, um, talk to you. About something. If that's alright," he added hastily.

He felt Snape scrutinise him for a long moment, not saying a word, before he stepped aside. "By all means, come in and sit down."

"If you're busy, sir, I can just come back another time," Harry insisted even as he took his usual seat. Usual seat in Snape's office, that was a weird thought.

"Did I say something to that effect?" Snape inquired, a hint of snideness in his tone as he sat down opposite Harry.

"I was just saying," Harry said. "I don't want to disturb you."

Snape just stared at him. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh well, I just had an argument with Ron and it feels like all we do is argue these days. Well, argue and then patch it up but then we argue again basically straight after and I don't know what it is but I just feel like I can't control myself enough not to argue with him."

"What was his particular argument about?" Snape prompted.

"Well, he's been acting so weirdly since, uh, that night when I last heard the voice," he shuddered slightly at the memory. "So weirdly that Hermione noticed and then he basically admitted to her that something happened even though he knows I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"What do you mean by feeling as though you cannot control yourself?"

Harry paused. "That's not important. What do I do about Ron?"

"On the contrary, I would like to know what you meant by that," Snape said neutrally.

"I'm not here to talk about me. I'm here to talk about Ron."

"Mr. Weasley is not under my purview. If you have a problem with him you should speak to his Head of House."

"Fine," Harry spat. "My mistake for thinking you would care." He stood abruptly. "You could have just said you didn't want to be disturbed."

"Sit down, Potter," Snape said airily, not meeting Harry's anger. "I am not here to join you in berating your fellow classmates. Despite how tempting it may be. I am concerned with your inability to control your temper."

"My temper is fine," Harry said moodily as he slumped back down in his seat.

"I beg to differ. By your own admission you are struggling with it. And I would like to hear more about that."

"Well, I don't want to talk about it."

Snape paused before he continued. "Just because I said I would assist you does not mean you get carte blanche on what that assistance looks like. I am here to look out for your best interests, not to conform to your every whim. And right now, it is in your best interests to follow my lead in this."

Harry just stared at him blankly. His anger was rushing in waves, he could feel it desperate to break free. To really rant and rave at his professor. He didn't trust himself to speak right now. The risk that he would say something he would regret was too high. Snape couldn't force him to speak.

"If you would rather return to your dormitory for the evening, you may call Dobby back."

"So we either talk about what you want or I have to leave?" Harry asked incredulously.

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Snape maintained his airy tone that was starting to really grate on Harry's nerves.

"What's even the point in all this then? If I can't talk to you about what I want."

"The point, Potter, is that I have a perspective that you do not possess. And at this precise moment I have told you what I think we should be discussing. And right now you are only further proving my point."

"I'm feeling really angry right now," Harry strained to admit.

"I can see that."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "So why are you trying to provoke me!"

"I am not trying to do anything, Potter. I just think we should discuss it."

Harry screwed his eyes closed and attempted to calm down. He wasn't angry at Snape. Not really. It was Ron he was angry at wasn't it?

"Tell me what it is you are so angry about?"

"Ron," answered Harry, his eyes still tightly closed.

"I don't think that's quite right."

"Yes it is!" His eyes flew open. "He can't keep anything to himself. Even when I specifically asked him to."

"And yet, Mr. Weasley's actions are not our main concern here."

"Can you just tell me what you're getting at. Because I know there's somewhere you're trying to lead me to."

Snape considered for a moment before continuing. "It is my belief that you are reacting to a loss of control."

"But-,"

"Let me explain," Snape cut him off. "Whilst you have resided at this school you have been allowed, much to my disapproval, to act largely however you wish. What started as you being permitted to join your Quidditch team earlier than any student in this school's history morphed into your misguided adventure to come face to face with the Dark Lord by the end of the year. Any latitude you have been shown by the faculty of this school is leaps and bounds beyond any other student. And now that is being challenged. Primarily by me. But also by circumstances that are beyond both of our control."

Harry said nothing. What could he say to that? Snape was way off the mark. Wasn't he?

"So it is only natural that you are trying to push back. Especially when your time here at school is largely when you feel more in control of your life."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"How in control do you feel when you're away from Hogwarts? When you are residing with your Aunt and Uncle?"

Harry flinched. "Not everything links back to my relatives," he snapped. "This is so far away from what I wanted to talk about. Can I just go?"

"By all means, I did not summon you down here. You sought me out." Snape leaned back in his chair, the picture of ease.

"Yeah, because I thought you would listen to me," Harry said sulkily.

"I am listening to you, Potter. Very closely. It is you who is not listening to me."

"That's not true," Harry tried.

Snape inclined his head. "Explain to me where you think I've gone wrong then. What is making you so angry?"

"I can't- I mean, you won't let me even walk through the corridors on my own anymore," Harry began. "As much as I like Dobby, it would be nice not to rely on him."

"Go on," Snape prompted when Harry paused.

"And you won't let me tell my friends anything. When I don't normally keep these kinds of things from them. And Ron won't keep anything to himself, even when I ask him to. I know, I know. You don't want me to just complain about Ron to you. But he's making me so angry lately."

"And what do you think all of the root causes of those annoyances are?"

"How should I know?"

"Perhaps give it a modicum of thought," Snape suggested coolly.

"Let me guess, you think it's control?"

"Do you have another suggestion?"

"No," Harry said darkly. "But that doesn't mean you're right."

"I am not allowing you to walk alone in the corridors. Therefore I am controlling your actions. I am also not allowing you to divulge everything to your friends. And so I am controlling your confidence. And Mr. Weasley is not acting in the way you wish him to. You are not able to control his actions. Do you see what I am alluding to now?"

"I guess."

"Your descent into anger is not unfounded. No one likes to feel as though they are not in control. But you must learn that you cannot control every aspect of your life, and especially not the actions of others."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"We focus on what you can control," Snape said simply.

"Like what?"

"Such as your schoolwork, for example."

"You are such a teacher," Harry groaned. "I really don't think focusing on my schoolwork is going to make all my problems go away."

"And nor should it. That was merely a singular example."

"Okay, fine. What else?"

"I think it's time you produce a few examples of your own, lest you accuse me of controlling your entire life."

"Very funny."

"I am completely serious," Snape said.

"Okay, I can focus on beating Slytherin in our first match of the season."

"Not entirely within your control, but a fair amount I suppose," Snape allowed. "What else?"

"Uh, that's all I can think of," Harry admitted.

Snape scoffed and Harry swore he heard him mutter something along the lines of 'Quidditch obsessed delinquents'.

"Then I will ask you to consider it more thoughtfully in your own time, and we shall discuss it further in our next session. I must admit I was surprised to see you down here as during our last session you were insistent that once a week would be sufficient."

Harry flushed slightly at the memory of what had interrupted that particular discussion. "Yeah, well you said I could come down whenever I needed to."

"So I did. I just wasn't convinced you would act upon that."

Harry shrugged.

"Seeing as you are here, how have you been otherwise?"

"Oh, fine really. Apart from arguing with Ron. I haven't heard the voice again or anything. And I've stuck with Dobby or my friends wherever I go," Harry assured.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I think I should be heading back to my common room now," Harry said.

"By all means, I am not keeping you here. You have always been free to go."

"Yeah, but I'm not storming off now, right? You can't say I don't listen to you now."

"Don't attempt to control my opinions, Mr. Potter."

"Okay, okay I get it," Harry raised his hands in submission.

"Off with you then. Remember to consider what I have said. And we will further our discussion next time. I will see you in class."

"Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Mr. Potter."

Harry headed towards the door, offering a half wave towards his teacher as he pulled open the door and summoned Dobby. He found himself in a much better mood and therefore able to converse with Dobby properly on their way back to the Tower.

"I do really appreciate you walking with me, Dobby. I'm sorry I was so short with you earlier."

"Little Master is not needing to be apologising to Dobby. Dobby is happy to be serving and not needing thanking."

"I'm just saying I shouldn't have snapped at you, it's not your fault I was so angry earlier."

The elf seemed to ignore his apologies and continued his nattering from their trip down. They were about halfway through their walk back to the Tower when Harry thought he spotted Ron's little sister, turning down a corridor that was certainly not a direction Harry was familiar with.

"Ginny?" he called. "Hey, Ginny!"

He heard her footsteps falter and he ran to catch up to her. As he turned the corner he saw her just standing in the corridor, waiting for him.

"Hey," he said lamely.

"Hi," she answered, somewhat nervously.

"I was just wondering where you were going. I mean, I don't even know what's that way," he gestured down the corridor behind her.

"I um, I just fancied a walk," she said.

"On your own?" Harry questioned.

Ginny shrugged, and Harry could appreciate why Snape hated that action so much.

On closer inspection, Harry could see Ginny was clutching the journal that Hermione had told them about. The one she said Ginny was never without lately.

"Did you want to walk back to the Tower with us?" he offered, gesturing to himself and Dobby.

"Oh, that's okay. I'll be fine."

"If you're sure?" Harry could almost hear Snape in his head admonishing him for trying to control Ginny's actions.

"Yeah, I'm sure, thanks though."

"Okay, just don't break curfew, okay. The teachers are pretty hot on that these days."

Ginny smiled slightly. "I won't, I promise. See you."

And with that she turned away, down the corridor that led...Harry didn't know where. Leaving just himself and Dobby to take the walk back to the Tower.

Chapter Text

This time, Hermione ignored the obvious tension between her two friends. Apart from a flash of surprise across her face when it was only Harry who appeared for their scheduled early breakfast, she did not acknowledge Ron's absence. Harry was glad when she also didn't comment on the two not pairing up as usual in Potions, but simply took the seat next to him that Ron had walked past to get to Neville. Harry could feel Snape's eyes on him, but he refused to look up from his textbook until he began to address the whole room.

The rest of the day passed in much the same way, with the two boys barely interacting. But still, Hermione said nothing. Even when Harry stumbled into the common room after Quidditch practice and headed straight for the dorm rather than discussing tactics with Ron as usual, she decided to stay out of it.

It was just the two of them again for breakfast the next morning, Harry giving Hermione a grateful smile followed by a yawn as he stumbled down the stone steps towards her.

"Everything okay?" she asked as they headed down to the Great Hall.

"Yeah, sort of, I just didn't sleep well last night," he admitted.

"Any reason in particular?" Hermione queried gently.

"Dunno really," he yawned massively again. "Just have a lot on my mind."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Uh, no. Thanks though," he smiled briefly at her. "And thanks for still doing this with me," he said as they stepped into the Great Hall. Only a few older students spread across various tables were present and tucking into their breakfast. It really was such a stark difference in atmosphere from the usual chaos of a meal in full swing.

"Of course, Harry," she assured. "You know I prefer it anyway. It's so much more civilised at this time."

Harry sniggered. "I guess that's true," he admitted as they sat down. "But thanks anyway. And thanks for not saying anything about Ron. Even though I can tell you're dying to ask about it."

Hermione paused mid-stretch for the porridge. "Well I'm trying to not get involved," she said eventually. "I had a feeling I made it worse last time. Ron said as much last night. Whilst you were out at practice."

"What did he say?" Harry pressed.

Hermione gave him a dark look. "I'm not going to get in the middle of you like this. If you want to know, ask him."

"No, thanks," Harry said swiftly.

Hermione shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Harry groaned, but Hermione was unmoved. "You have to sort it out between yourselves, because clearly my attempt at keeping the peace barely lasted five minutes."

"Ugh, you're not wrong."

"Am I ever?" she quipped.

Harry just rolled his eyes.

***

Harry pushed open the doors to the Hospital Wing later that evening, this time with his stomach pleasantly full from dinner. Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her office only a few moments after Harry had entered, the Potions Master appearing a few steps behind her.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," she greeted him brightly. "Hop up onto a bed and get changed for me."

Harry glanced around the room, it was mercifully empty, and he stepped towards his usual bed. The medi-witch pulled the screen around behind him so he could get changed in private, and after a few minutes he called that he was ready. Harry could see a potion vial in her hand, and sighed deeply. He was sure he was going to have to take it again as he still had no conscious control over his glamour.

"So how have you been, Harry?"

"Fine, I guess. Good."

Snape cleared his throat. Harry glared at him.

"Out with it, one of you," Madam Pomfrey sighed.

"Potter had another episode this past week. When I arrived I found him collapsed in the corridor, barely responsive until I stepped in."

"I thought you weren't going to tell her everything!" Harry yelled indignantly.

"As this pertains to your long-term health, I am not going to keep it from your health provider," Snape said simply. "And you will lower your voice at once if you wish to keep the remainder of your evening free to do as you please."

Harry snapped his mouth shut, but he was seething internally.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"It's like he said," Harry began, his body thrumming with the need to rant and rave. "I sort of collapsed. But I didn't pass out or anything. I responded to you." Harry wasn't yelling but his tone was far from civil.

"And what triggered this, do you know?"

This question gave Harry pause, did Madam Pomfrey know about the voice he was hearing? Was he allowed to tell her? He wasn't feeling particularly charitable towards Snape so he ploughed ahead with his explanation.

"I keep hearing this voice. It says stuff like it wants to kill someone and-"

"Enough, Potter," Snape snapped.

"What are you talking about?! You know about this, Severus? And you haven't said anything? This is precisely the kind of thing I should be informed of!"

"Potter's episodes started prior to his encounter with this voice, thus it is evidently not the sole cause of them. Furthermore, the Headmaster did not think it necessary to inform you at this time."

Harry just leaned back against his pillows, quite enjoying the sight of the two adults arguing.

"I was unaware the Headmaster was proficient in psychology," Madam Pomfrey harrumphed.

"Psychology?!" Harry was abruptly drawn back into the conversation. "I'm not crazy, I'm not just hearing it inside my head."

Madam Pomfrey glanced at Harry but directed her question at the Potions Master. "Do we know that for sure?"

"We are not sure of anything at this time," Snape said carefully, also not taking his eyes off Harry.

"I'm not crazy!" Harry screamed at her. He was sick of the two of them observing him like a specimen in a glass jar.

Madam Pomfrey just blinked in shock at the outburst but Snape was in his face in a flash. "You have just earned an evening with me, Mr. Potter. And it will not be altogether pleasant." Harry jerked angrily away from his teacher but Snape had already stepped back.

"I didn't mean it that way, Harry," she soothed, stepping forward and made to rest a hand on his shoulder in comfort, but Harry leaned away from her as well.

The medi-witch didn't outwardly react, just continued her explanation. "I simply meant have we been able to establish whether or not this voice is in your head or not."

"But if it is then I'm crazy, right?" Harry sniffed noisily, unable to control his turbulent emotions.

"Absolutely not," she said resolutely. "If we can estab-"

"We know very little at the moment," Snape interrupted smoothly. "But rest assured the Headmaster is aware and attempting to find a resolution." Snape's tone was firm. "Shall we continue with Mr. Potter's physical exam? That is what we are here for after all." Even Harry couldn't miss the underlying command.

Madam Pomfrey said nothing. Not to Snape at least.

She asked Harry to try and drop his glamour, and when this predictably failed, handed over the vial she'd been holding and asked him to lie down. Harry gripped it tightly. He knew there was no point in arguing but he still aimed a pleading look at his professor.

A sharp shake of the head from the Potions Master and Harry sighed and lay back, knocking down the potion and holding out the empty vial.

He didn't immediately drop off in the same way he had at his last check up. In fact it was a little awkward this time as he watched the two adults watching and waiting for him to fall asleep so they could begin. He cleared his throat self-consciously but a few seconds later he was asleep.

Madam Pomfrey began her scans immediately, flourishing her wand in a complicated manner.

"My apologies for the earlier interruption, Poppy," Snape began. "There are things Albus would rather as few people know of."

"I understand that, Severus," Madam Pomfrey said tersely. "However when it comes to the health of my patients, I would rather information not be withheld from me."

"Which is why I had him inform you of the general incident. The specifics are rather more delicate."

"I'm hardly going to argue with the Headmaster's wishes. But if Harry wishes to tell me then I'm going to listen. And he did."

"I do not intend offence, Poppy, however I think it had less to do with you and rather more to do with him wanting to disobey my instructions. He is well aware this is not something to be discussed amongst those who do not already know."

The medi-witch sighed deeply. "Should I be worried, Severus? Just answer me that. Please."

"I would not be being truthful if I were to attempt to appease you entirely. As I've said, there is very little we do know."

"This boy has been through enough, Severus," Madam Pomfrey stated.

"I am aware."

The two shared a long look before the medi-witch returned to examining the young Gryffindor.

"Well, I'm glad to see significant improvement from last week. Even just visually there isn't quite the same shock in the difference in appearance when his glamour first drops." Snape nodded along in agreement. "He's definitely on the right track. Although we mustn't get complacent, there is still a long way to go."

"Naturally."

"Let's leave him to sleep off the potion," she swept the blankets from under Harry and pulled them up to tuck him in, her movements smooth and practiced. "Whilst you're up here I'd love to pick your brains about something." She plucked Harry's glasses off and placed them on the table next to him beside his clothes before stepping out from around the curtain, gesturing for Snape to do the same, and pulling it closed behind them both.

"How have the two of you been getting along?" she asked as they made their way towards her office.

"That cannot be what you wish to discuss."

"Oh no, no," she waved her hands impatiently. "But I'd still like to know."

"Adequately," Snape said, taking the offered seat across the desk, watching the single green orb as it bounced slightly in midair, signifying everything was fine with her sole patient.

Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue. "Any elaboration on that, Severus?"

"Not at this time," he drew his eyes down from the orb to face her.

"If I find out you've not been treating that boy right, Severus, so help me."

"Noted."

"Honestly, Severus, it's like pulling teeth with you."

Snape said nothing.

"My, you are being particularly stubborn this afternoon. I'll take the hint. But what I'd actually like your thoughts on is this new potion I've been hearing about for the treatment of Mumblemumps."

***

When Harry came to, he was alone. And everything was fuzzy. He shrugged the blanket off, and reached around for his glasses. He encountered their cool metallic frame on the bedside table and shoved them onto his face. Once he could see clearly he grabbed his clothes and changed quickly. He half considered slipping out without saying anything but he doubted he would be able to leave undetected. He'd seen the orbs in Madam Pomfrey's office and he'd heard there were more monitoring spells all over the hospital wing. So he stayed put for now. His mind wandering to what horrible consequences Snape might have in store for him for his earlier outbursts.

And sure enough, only a few moments after he'd awoken, he heard two sets of footsteps making their way towards his bed.

"Are you decent, Mr. Potter?" came Madam Pomfrey's voice through the curtain.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Excellent," she swept the curtain aside, revealing herself and Snape. "Everything is looking good, you're right on track. So keep doing as you are."

"Let's go, Potter," Snape's tone was less gentle.

Harry dropped down from the bed, his feet landing with a dull thud on the stone floor.

"I'll see you next week," she smiled kindly at him. "Thank you for your expertise, Severus."

Harry frowned, glancing between the two adults.

"Anytime, Madam. Good evening."

And with that he was striding away, leaving Harry to mutter a thank you at the medi-witch and hurry after him.

The two of them walked in silence. Well, Harry had tried to instigate a conversation but he'd been shut down immediately. So he kept his mouth closed from then on, and tried not to make eye contact with any students they happened upon as they descended into the dungeons.

"In," was all Snape said as he pulled open his classroom door. Harry just knew that being in the classroom meant Snape was going to come up with some gruesome task for him to do as punishment, rather than a stern lecture he could just have given him in his office. He passed ahead of him through the door, wincing slightly as it banged closed behind Snape.

Harry sank into the directed seat right at the front and watched as Snape routed around in his desk, his heart pounding painfully in anticipation. Snape produced a stack of plain parchment along with a quill and ink pot.

Harry frowned as they were placed in front of him. This is not what he'd been expecting at all.

"You will write 'The faculty of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are worthy and deserving of my utmost respect and I will learn to control my temper at all times in order to show my appreciation for their assistance and expertise.'"

Harry blinked. The full school title seemed a bit much but he knew better than to argue. "Uh, how many times?"

"Until I am satisfied."

Harry gulped but made no further comment and reached for the feathered quill.

His hand started to ache somewhere around number twenty but he dutifully carried on, not wanting to anger his teacher any further. Because he definitely was angry, he'd barely even looked at Harry since they'd left the hospital wing and he'd only spoken to him in a snappy tone.

He stifled a yawn as he continued writing, his head eventually dropping down onto his left arm so he was looking sideways onto his parchment.

"Head up," Snape snapped immediately and Harry jerked to obey.

Just as he was sure he'd never get the cramp out of his hands, Snape cleared his throat. "That will do. Bring them here."

Harry rose from his seat and passed the sheets of parchment over. Snape cast a critical eye over them before discarding them with a flick of his wand. Harry just stared, wondering if his punishment was over or if there was more to come.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Snape asked.

"Er, I'm-I'm- really sorry, sir, for losing my temper."

"And?"

"And it won't happen again," Harry offered.

"Do not make promises you cannot keep, Potter."

"So what do you want from me?" Harry bit out. He was getting tired of having to read between the lines of everything Snape said. Why could he never just say what he really meant?

"Be very careful, Mr. Potter."

"I've said I'm sorry," Harry cried. "I've done your punishment. Unless there's something else?" Harry tried to hide the hint of fear that trembled his voice at the thought of additional punishment. "I really don't know what you're looking for."

"Your punishment is over," Snape assured, and watched as Harry visibly relaxed. "However, I need you to acknowledge that your behaviour was unacceptable. I do not have an issue with your anger, Potter. You have every right to be angry. But the way you conduct yourself when feeling such emotions has got to change. Yelling at Madam Pomfrey is disgraceful behaviour."

"I know," Harry hung his head, the unpleasant warmth of shame spreading through him. "I guess I should apologise to her."

"Indeed you will. Tomorrow will suffice, at your earliest convenience. As for now, you will call Dobby and return directly to your common room, where you will stay for the remainder of the evening. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"We have much to discuss in our session tomorrow, but for now get some sleep. Goodnight."

***

The next morning, Harry asked Hermione if they could make a quick stop at the hospital wing before they headed down for breakfast. Hermione gave him a questioning look but didn't press him on the reasoning. Ron still wasn't talking to him so it was just the two of them setting off to eat early.

Hermione begrudgingly waited outside in the hallway whilst Harry slipped in to find the medi-witch.

"Everything okay, Harry?" Madam Pomfrey asked when she spotted him from across the room, her face the picture of concern at his early arrival.

"Yeah I'm- nothing's wrong. I just came to say sorry for my behaviour yesterday."

"Oh, sweet child," she cooed as she approached him. "There is no need to apologise."

"Well, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. And I just wanted to say I know that it was bad and I won't do it again."

"Think nothing of it, Harry. Run along to breakfast, and I hope not to see you before next week."

Harry smiled shyly at her, a wave of relief flooding through him upon realising she wasn't angry at him the way Snape had been.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," he said as he began to turn away.

"You can come to me for anything, Harry, remember that," Harry turned back to face her. "I know you've requested Professor Snape for now, but you can change your mind at any time, or speak to additional adults. You aren't locked in with him for good if you don't wish to be."

Harry's eyes bulged at the implication. "Uh, okay, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." He flashed another quick smile before hurrying out of the oak doors to find Hermione.

"Were you trying to listen in?" Harry asked, suspicious of the way she'd leapt away from the door as he'd pushed it open.

"No, of course not, I was just..resting against it," she denied.

"Sure you were," Harry rolled his eyes. "Let's go, I'm starving."

"Okay fine, yes, I was trying to listen," she admitted as they made their way towards the Great Hall. "But there must be some sort of privacy wards on the doors because no spell I tried worked, so you'll be pleased to know I heard nothing."

"Good," he replied shortly.

Hermione managed a whole five minutes of silence before she broke. "So, anything you want to share?"

"Nope, sorry. But I have a lot to think about," he revealed.

The two lapsed back into silence but Harry's mind was whirling.

Did he really want to stick with Snape? Was there really an option not to? He hadn't really considered the possibility that he might be able to change his mind after making the decision. And Snape had already put so much time into helping him even in the short time he'd technically been in charge of him. It was true, he had a lot to think about, and not much time in which to do it.

He knew he wouldn't be able to hide his reservations from his teacher in their upcoming session that evening. So he really needed to decide what he was going to do. And quickly.

Chapter Text

Much to his surprise, Harry had discovered that Defense Against the Dark Arts had become the best subject in which he could daydream without fear of reprimand. Professor Lockhart was so wrapped up in the delivery of his lessons that he didn't often notice that the odd student wasn't giving him their full attention.

And so, Harry often found his mind taking advantage of that freedom and drifting off almost from the very start of the lesson. He knew vaguely that they were being lectured on Lockhart's tome 'Gadding with Ghouls', but anything additional to that he was blissfully unaware of.

Except, blissful wasn't quite the state Harry found himself in right now. All night he'd tossed and turned, replaying Madam Pomfrey's comments on his position with Snape. He really hadn't thought he'd had the right to change his mind, or stop altogether. The decision had felt so final, so formal, so fixed. But maybe Pomfrey was right and he wasn't locked in forever. He was allowed to change his mind. People did that, right? It's just no one had thought to mention that to him at the time.

Not that it felt right to throw it back in the man's face. He wouldn't do it like that.

"Mr. Potter."

He'd let him down gently. If that's what he was going to do.

"Mr. Potter." Harry jerked as he heard his name. A distinct feeling that it wasn't the first time he'd been called upon. Considering the whole class had turned to stare at him. He flushed hotly at the sudden attention.

"Uh, yes, sir?"

"Just checking you're still with us, wouldn't want you to miss anything."

"Oh, right, yeah, I'm listening," he forced a smile.

"Excellent, excellent. Now where was I- oh yes, the tea strainer-"

Maybe Lockhart was a tiny bit more observant than Harry had given him credit for. Oops.

***

When the dismissal came for the end of class, Lockhart gestured for Harry to remain in his seat. Harry closed his eyes to hide his annoyance but did as he was told without comment.

When the final student had filtered out of the room, Lockhart closed the door and sauntered back over towards Harry. He draped himself on top of the desk in front of Harry, beaming down at him.

"What's on your mind lately, Harry? Anything I can help with?"

"Oh, no sir, thank you though," Harry tried to smile reassuringly.

"It's just you seem distracted. And it must be something big to drag you away from such a fascinating subject."

Harry frowned up at his professor, trying to figure out if he was joking. He decided that he wasn't.

"It's nothing really. Nothing I'm allowed to talk about anyway," Harry cringed internally at his careless revelation.

"Oh, secrets! I adore secrets. Did you know that Harry? I'm also an excellent secret keeper. So don't feel as though you have to keep it from me."

"Right, well, I sort of have to."

"Says who?"

"Uh, don't think I can tell you that either."

"Is this a hint, Harry?" Lockhart wiggled his eyebrows and Harry tried really hard to repress the urge to shudder.

"A hint at what?"

"That we should be working on our relationship. So you can begin to trust me and tell me your little secrets," Lockhart said, smirking as if they were both in on the joke.

"Uh, no, sir, it's not that. I really can't tell you. Can I be dismissed, sir, only it's break time.."

"You don't need to play so hard to get, Harry," Lockhart said, still smirking. "My interest is fully peaked. How about we schedule another evening together."

"Like a detention?"

"No, no, you silly thing! I explained last time that it wasn't really a detention. Merely a facade. What do you say?"

"The thing is, sir, I'm actually quite busy, what with school work and quidditch and...," he trailed off, unwilling to share anymore.

"Not to worry, how about the weekend? My Saturday evening happens to be entirely free, how does that sound?"

Harry's eyes widened, not understanding how his teacher could think he was at all keen to hang out for the whole of his Saturday evening.

"Can I - can I think about it?" Maybe Snape could get him out of it if he stalled Lockhart long enough to ask him.

"Certainly," he got to his feet. "Don't keep me waiting too long though, like I said you really don't need to be playing hard to get," he winked and this time Harry couldn't contain his shudder and his skin had started to prickle unpleasantly. Lockhart didn't seem to notice though, he was already flouncing back towards the door and Harry wasted no time in hurrying after him, desperate for his escape.

Harry stepped past Lockhart through the opened door and as soon as he was out of his teacher's line of sight he broke into a run. He debated calling Dobby as he was technically alone but he knew his classmates wouldn't be too far ahead and he just wanted to put as much distance between him and Lockhart as quickly as possible. And sure enough, the corridors got a little busier and he slowed down, feeling the safety in numbers. But he couldn't fully shake the unpleasant prickling he was feeling up and down his arms. He shook them out, trying to dispel it.

"They're not even dangerous, Hermione. They just make a lot of noise and moan a lot. People make them into their pets." Harry had caught up with his peers and his ears picked up the sound of his friends discussing their previous lesson. He gravitated towards them, squeezing past a few people in-between them. "Our ghoul is called Dorian. Fred and George found out that was what Percy was nearly going to be called, so they started calling it that." Harry snorted in spite of himself- he and Ron still hadn't made up from their latest argument.

Ron spun around at the sound, as did Hermione.

"Oh, Harry! What happened, what did he say?" Hermione asked.

Ron just turned back around and kept walking.

"Lockhart wants to have another meeting with me."

"Oh you're so lucky," Hermione enthused.

"Hardly," Harry scoffed.

"Are you going to tell Ron about it?"

"I thought you weren't getting involved," Harry said, but there was no heat behind it. "I mean, he doesn't seem to care," he gestured at Ron already a few paces ahead of them.

"He cares, Harry," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "You just need to sort it out between the two of you."

Harry sighed, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the prospect. "Right, yeah, maybe," he offered her, noncommittally.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and continued walking, Harry trailing along beside her.

***

Harry breathed out shakily as he knocked on the door to the Potions office, Dobby disappearing from his side as soon as he was granted entry, and pushed the door open. He couldn't make eye contact with his teacher as he stepped across the stone floor to take his seat.

Snape didn't say anything but Harry could feel his eyes on him.

"What has happened, Potter?" Harry twitched at his transparency.

He looked up hesitantly. Snape was focused completely on him, sitting with perfect posture, his hands folded before him and resting on the desk.

"Nothing's happened, sir," Harry forced out, knowing his silence would not be acceptable.

"If you are still fearing repercussions from your behaviour yesterday, there is no need. Your punishment was completed and I have it on good authority that Madam Pomfrey received an apology this morning. So I am perfectly content to leave the incident behind us."

"What did she say?" Harry asked quickly.

"Excuse me?"

"What did Madam Pomfrey say?" Harry clarified.

"Only that you had stopped by to offer your apologies. Why? Is there something more she should have told me?"

"Oh no, no, nothing. No," he bit his own lip to stop his rambles.

"I think he doth protest too much," Snape said after a slight pause, eyeing Harry closely. "But if you don't wish to disclose, that's fine. I am not here to force anything out of you."

Harry relaxed a little, but he knew that Snape knew that something was up. The man was scarily perceptive.

"How about we continue our conversation from the other evening," Snape suggested.

"Oh, uh, sure," Harry said, desperately racking his brain for what that had been.

"We were talking about what areas of your life you are in control of," Snape prompted. "And I instructed you to come up with a few examples of your own. Beyond quidditch."

"Right, yeah, I mean, uh.."

"Did you make time to consider it?"

"Erm, well, not exactly, sir. I'm sorry!" Harry leant forward in his chair, pleading his case. "I totally forgot about it. But let me just think quickly."

"I didn't want you to think quickly, I wanted considered thought."

"I'm sorry," Harry tried again. "I just feel like I have no time to think on top of..on top of everything."

"Well, you know the first obstacle in your life that we can remove."

Harry eyed his professor closely this time before the knut dropped. "NO!" he exploded, more forcefully than he'd meant to. "I mean, please no, I can't give up quidditch, I really can't. You don't understand, sir, but I really can't."

"You certainly can. And you will if it is interfering with your wellbeing."

"It's not though!" Harry really tried to keep his tone respectful, aware of the outcome if he didn't. But he was already feeling his anger bubbling to the surface.

"By your own admission you have little time to think. That is not conducive to a prosperous and thriving school life."

"I can't just stop though. Really. I couldn't let my team down like that."

"You'd rather let yourself down instead?" Snape countered.

"I'm not!" Harry burst out, he was beginning to breathe heavily.

Silence hung between them and Harry had the distinct feeling that Snape was giving him the opportunity to reign his temper back in on his own.

"I don't wanna do this anymore," Harry said, very, very quietly, breaking the silence, but only just. "If you're gonna keep threatening to ban me from quidditch. I can't do this."

Harry expected to see some form of surprise on Snape's face but his expression remained infuriatingly neutral.

"I am not threatening you. Merely explaining the consequence of an extracurricular getting in the way of your wellbeing."

Annoyingly, Harry felt close to tears as he tried to explain. "You don't understand. I need quidditch. I need it," he sniffled noisily. "It's my escape from everything else going on. I can't stop, I just can't. And if you make me-" he paused.

"Go on," Snape said.

"Well, I can't do this," he gestured between the two of them. "I'll tell Madam Pomfrey I've made a mistake and she'll find me someone else." There, he'd said it. He scrunched up his eyes, willing away the tears collecting there.

"Oh will she now? And how do you know this?"

"She um, she said. That I wasn't locked in with you. That it's my choice. She told me that. Yesterday."

"I see."

More silence hung in the air, this time thick and overwhelming. Harry didn't think he could speak even if he wanted to.

"Well, I am loath to keep you here against your will. So by all means," Snape gestured towards the door.

Harry frowned, unsure if his professor was serious. He wasn't yelling, he sounded almost bored by the prospect.

"Quickly, Potter. I have other things to be getting on with if you feel my time is not beneficial to you."

"It's not that-,"

"Be that as it may, Potter," finally his tone had hardened. "If you are not able to accept my guidance without threat of terminating our situation then by all means ask Madam Pomfrey to find someone more palatable for you."

"I just-," Harry tried, but he was interrupted again.

"Enough! You've wasted enough of my time this evening. I will see you in class, Mr. Potter. You are dismissed."

Harry didn't even attempt to stop the tears this time as they welled in his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. What had he done?

"Go," Snape barked.

Harry snapped out of his daze. He swiped hurriedly at his wet cheeks and jumped to his feet and made for the door, tripping over his own feet in his haste. He yanked on the handle and stepped out into the corridor. Unable to look back at his teacher he pulled the door behind him without looking, overdoing it so the thud echoed loudly in the empty corridor.

***

The rest of the week flew past Harry in a haze. Even Ron started sending him worried looks again, and they hadn't even made up yet. Oliver had yelled at him during practice for his lack of focus, Professor McGonagall had reprimanded him for not listening to instructions and even the usually lenient Professor Flitwick had had a somewhat stern word with him after class when he'd failed to hand in his homework. Which he'd totally forgotten about.

He was more distracted and inattentive than usual since Snape had all but kicked him out. And so by the time Lockhart cornered him on Friday afternoon, keen to solidify their meet up for the following evening, Harry did not have a prepared excuse. He was also alone, as he'd taken Snape's dismissal as permission to stop following all of his stupid rules. So neither his friends nor Dobby were anywhere in sight.

"Excellent, excellent," Lockhart declared, as Harry floundered for a reason he couldn't make it, but came up with nothing. "Shall we say seven o'clock, in my office? We can dine together!"

"Right," Harry said glumly.

"You can manage without your peers for one meal, I'm sure!" Lockhart clapped him on the shoulder. Forcing Harry to step back slightly out of his range. "I'll have the house elves cook up a feast for us."

"You don't have to do that, sir."

"I insist, young man," he said, flashing his brilliant white teeth. "Seven," he reiterated before swirling away in a vision of flowing violet robes.

"Damn," Harry swore under his breath. He'd totally forgotten that his plan had been to ask Snape to help him out of this one. Fat chance of that happening now.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit," he spun around and tried to release his anger by kicking the nearest thing to him, which happened to be the stone wall of the corridor. But if anything that had the opposite effect.

"Fuck," he exclaimed, hopping around on the other foot, trying to shake out the pain.

"You're well and truly screwed now, Potter," he muttered to himself as he hobbled away, trying to ascertain if he'd done himself any real damage. Both Madam Pomfrey and Oliver would kill him if he had.

Luckily by the time Harry had limped towards the Tower, the ache had all but faded away, just leaving behind the sting of embarrassment. He began to imagine the voice of Snape in his head, berating him for losing his temper once again, but he shook his head to chase away the thought. He didn't want to think about him right now. He was on his own again.

And so, with enormous reluctance, Harry parted from his friends as they made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner the next evening whilst he continued on to the Defense classroom. Just as he was about to knock on the door, he paused as he realised he'd completely forgotten to take his nutrient potion. He half considered turning back, but he'd be far too late by the time he managed to go there and come back. And even though Madam Pomfrey had technically been the one who had ordered him to take them it still felt like he was defying Snape in some way by not.

He knocked on the door, which opened immediately and seemingly automatically for him.

He stepped through and looked up at the office door when it also swung open, revealing Lockhart in bright salmon robes. Harry tried not to grimace at the sight. Lockhart stepped out onto the little landing outside the office door and beamed down at him.

"Come on in, Harry," he gestured for Harry to join him. "I hope you noticed I've given you automatic access to this classroom. I want you to know my door is always open to you!"

"Uh, great, thanks," Harry mumbled, as he plodded up the stairs.

"Just don't go telling your little friends about it, you scallywag," he winked at him. "I wouldn't want just anybody wandering in here."

"Yeah, no I won't, don't worry," Harry assured him, as Lockhart beckoned him into the little room at the top of the stairs.

"Atta-boy," Lockhart clapped Harry on the shoulder as he walked past, Harry hurrying into the room ahead of him.

He'd not been in this office since Professor Quirrell had been the defense professor. And as he took the room in now, he assumed it must have looked vastly different when the stammering professor had been in residence. As now, numerous candles illuminated an entire wall filled with grinning photographs of Lockhart. Harry stopped in his tracks as he stared at them all, not quite believing his eyes.

"Come and sit down, Harry, stop admiring me," Lockhart chuckled loudly.

Harry spun around and noticed the dining setup in the back corner of the room: a white tablecloth across a little table, set with gleaming silverware.

"You didn't need to do all this, sir," Harry insisted, a little taken aback.

"Nonsense, Harry, now would you like some wine?"

"Uh, I'm not sure I'm allowed, sir."

"Hogwash," Lockhart dismissed his concerns with a wave of his hand. "I won't tell you if you don't. Come on, just a little glass, it's delicious I promise."

"Alright then," Harry acquiesced as he sat down.

Lockhart beamed at him as he poured him a glass of the cherry red wine. But it wasn't a little one. "Oh my," Lockhart chortled. "Perhaps a little too heavy handed there, not to worry," he pushed the rather full glass over towards Harry. "Have a sip, tell me what you think."

Harry reached out hesitantly. He'd never tried any type of alcohol before. It wasn't served at school, even for the older years, and the Dursleys had never left any lying around that he could get to. So he was curious. Before he could second guess himself, he tipped the crystal glass back and took a big gulp which he regretted almost immediately.

"Woah, not so much, Harry! You're supposed to sip it, not guzzle it!" Lockhart laughed as if it were the funniest thing he'd ever seen. "It's a good job you have me around to teach you these things, we couldn't let you loose in polite company as you are, could we?"

The sour liquid stayed in his mouth as Harry pleaded with his swallow reflex to kick in. Just when he thought he'd have to disgrace himself and spit it out, the warm liquid slid down his throat and Harry breathed in deeply.

"How was that?" Lockhart asked, still smirking.

"Awful," Harry admitted. "I thought alcohol was supposed to taste nice," he swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and Lockhart grimaced.

"It's an acquired taste, certainly. But that's what I'm here for. To expand your palette. I've got quite the spread planned for you this evening to do just that." He tapped his wand against the table and the first course arrived. "Ah yes, here we have a wild mushroom consommé to begin. Bon appétit!"

Lockhart spoke entirely about himself over their first course, Harry barely needed to get a word in edgeways to keep the conversation flowing. Once they'd both finished, Lockhart encouraged Harry to finish his glass of wine as the next course would be paired with a different one. He'd gotten more used to the taste through multiple tries but he was still firmly of the opinion that red wine was disgusting.

"Good show," Lockhart commended him as he set down the empty glass. "On to the next!" He tapped his wand again and the same pattern repeated. Lockhart poured him another glass of wine, white this time, and described the new course.

"This is foie gras mousse that we'll be pairing with this Côtes de Gascogne," he pushed the wine towards Harry.

Harry, who hadn't understood any of those words, tucked in anyway. "Try the wine, Harry," Lockhart encouraged. Harry did as he was told and found this white variety much easier to drink. "What do you think?"

"This is much better," Harry admitted, taking another sip.

"Excellent, well, have some more then!" And he topped up Harry's already reasonably full glass.

The third course passed swiftly on from the second with Harry barely remembering the details Lockhart had given him- a pan seared something, maybe duck, he recalled vaguely. But as before, a new course meant a new wine and before he knew it Harry had finished three large glasses whilst only eating relatively small accompanying dishes.

Lockhart seemed happy to take a break between the third and what he said would be the final course, for which Harry was grateful. He was starting to feel a bit woozy, the effects of the alcohol, he thought absentmindedly. This must be what everyone loved so much about it. He did feel extremely content, pleasantly drifting along, not even minding that Lockhart had purely talked about himself up until now.

"So then, Harry, that's enough about me. I'm sure you've heard all my stories from my books already anyway. But you, my boy. You are an enigma. And I would love to get to know you better."

"What's an, uhh, what's an enigma?" he finally managed to ask.

"A puzzle, in a way. You are quite the mystery to me, and to the entire wizarding world, I believe. I can help you break down those barriers, help the people to see you. The real you."

"I don't thin I wan that," Harry tried to explain, but even to him his words sounded garbled.

"Of course you do, young man! We really must start building up your public profile as soon as possible and I would be honoured to help you with that."

The candles had burned lower and lower as their dinner had worn on, the light flickering over the many moving faces on the Lockhart pictures, and Harry got his first pangs of unease.

"Uh thanks, but no, I'm 'lright. Prefer to be private," Harry continued to try and dodge Lockhart's offer.

"Well at least help me to understand the real Harry Potter," Lockhart implored, leaning back in his chair. "From one celebrity to another, I think there's plenty of ways we can help each other. So where to start? Ah! I know, tell me about your upbringing. Who do you live with outside of school?"

"I don't wanna talk 'bout this," Harry tried to sound firm but his head was starting to swim unpleasantly and his stomach was beginning to churn as well.

"Come now, Harry. Why the need for such secrecy? Humour the curiosities of your old professor here. No?" Harry only blinked at him, not trusting himself to speak. "Okay, okay, not to worry. How about you tell me what little secret you're keeping instead? The one where you couldn't even reveal the person who had sworn you to secrecy?"

Harry shook his head hard and immediately regretted it. "I don't wanna," he took a deep breath, trying to dispel the sudden and acute need to throw up. "I can't-" his heart was pounding, a familiar sense of dread flooding through his veins. "I'm sorry, I have to-," he lurched to his feet, the instinct to run screaming at him. He gripped onto the table for balance as his legs felt unsteady underneath him.

"Merlin, what seems to be the matter, Harry?" Lockhart also began to get to his feet.

At Lockhart's motion, something triggered in Harry and he bolted for the door. He yanked it open and began to stagger down the stairs, leaning heavily on the stone railing.

"Harry, wait!" Lockhart called from behind him. But Harry barely heard him. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he began to navigate between the desks that stood between him and the classroom door. But his coordination was severely worsened by the alcohol he'd consumed so he had to use his hands to help propel him along from desk to desk.

Just as he reached the final desk, his hands completely missed and he fell forward quite suddenly, catching his forehead hard on the corner of the desk.

"Ow," he groaned, even though it hadn't hurt all that much, but when he pulled away his hand from where he'd pressed it against the impact he knew he was bleeding.

"Goodness, Harry, let me help you!"

Harry wasn't sure how he'd managed to keep ahead of Lockhart in his inebriated state, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let the man catch him now. He ripped open the door, not bothering to close it behind him and surged forward. He kept one hand braced against the wall of the corridor for balance whilst using the other one to press against his head as he'd felt a rivulet of what could only be blood beginning to drip down his cheek.

He staggered along until his legs gave out from under him, his heart pounding, his stomach heaving and his breath catching in his chest.

"Dobby," Harry managed to croak out. The elf popped into view immediately.

"Master Harry has not called Dobby in a long while, Dobby was getting concerned, what is it Dobby can be doing for Master Harry? Master Harry what is happening to your head? You is bleeding, Master Harry! We must be going to the hospital wing right now."

"N-no," Harry bit out, his teeth had also begun to chatter, making speaking difficult. "Can you-canyou get P-p-professor S-snape?"

And once he'd gotten the words out, Harry abruptly burst into tears.

Chapter Text

"I appreciate you stopping by, Severus," Dumbledore said cheerily. "I will pass your insights onto the other heads of house and we shall see what we can agree on."

The two had been discussing the best way to organise this year's exam season, a task that none of the teachers looked forward to at the beginning of the year.

"You're welcome, Albus. I shall take my leave but before I depart, I just thought you should know that Potter and I have terminated our.. liaison."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Severus."

"Do not be. He communicated to me that he no longer wishes to continue and I am not going to force it."

They were quiet for a moment. Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him on the desk. "Just like that?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I'm hardly going to beg him to maintain it."

Dumbledore sighed. "I was imagining there to be more of a discussion."

"We had a discussion. And this was the conclusion."

"What was his reasoning then, if you're free to discuss it?"

"I believe my threatening to pull him from quidditch may have had a heavy hand in the matter," Snape sneered.

"Oh Severus, you know how much that means to him."

"And so? I am not here to cater to his every want and whim. If quidditch is having a detrimental effect on his well being then I am of the opinion that he should not participate. If he is unwilling to accept my guidance then we are done. There is nothing further to discuss."

"I think you are being a little harsh, Severus," Dumbledore spoke softly.

"Have you ever known me to be otherwise, Albus? Even if Potter was somehow unaware of what he was getting into, you certainly were not. And you endorsed the idea."

"So I did. I just thought perhaps you and Harry would be able to see past your earlier differences."

"This has nothing to do with our past differences and everything to do with him refusing to follow my rules in the present day."

Dumbledore was prevented from responding when the soft crack of apparition announced the arrival of a house elf.

"Master Snape, Master Harry is needing you right now!"

"There you have it," Dumbledore almost looked smug as he leaned back in his chair.

Snape just glowered at the both of them. "What could he have possibly gotten into this time?"

Dobby looked frantically between the two wizards with wild eyes, not sure who he should be addressing. "Dobby is hating to be interrupting but Master Harry is injured, sirs, and is asking for you Master Snape."

Snape jumped to his feet at this information. "Show me then," he snapped.

"Send for me if you have need, Severus, or do update me at your earliest convenience."

"I will, Albus. As soon as I have set the thoughtless child straight."

***

Time was moving very slowly for Harry. It had felt like hours since he'd called for Dobby, but that couldn't be right. Last time he'd asked him to get Snape it had been so fast. Oh god, maybe he wasn't even coming this time. Maybe he'd just sent Dobby away, not wanting to deal with him. The thought that Snape wasn't coming and that Lockhart could appear around the corner at any minute brought another wave of nausea surging upwards and he heaved.

"Potter!"

Harry sagged in relief and attempted to turn in the direction of Snape's voice calling his name but he couldn't figure out where it was coming from. He felt dizzy and disorientated and could barely lift his head.

"Potter," Snape was much closer now, and no longer yelling. He felt two hands close around his wrists as he crouched down beside him. Harry weakly tried to tug himself free. "What has happened?"

Harry struggled against his chattering teeth to try and explain but his feelings of distress had not diminished and he couldn't get the words out.

"Potter," Snape's tone was firm but not angry. "Listen to me. Just nod or shake your head. Did you hear the voice?"

Harry shook his head and groaned at the way his dizziness heightened at the movement.

"The elf said you were injured. Can you tell me where?"

Harry frowned deeply, trying to think what he could mean, and squinted up at his professor.

"You are singularly the most accident prone child I have ever come across." Snape let out a sigh as he let go of Harry's wrists to tilt his chin up even higher with one hand, whilst brushing his fringe off his forehead with the other. "It looks as though your glamour has fallen as I can see this. How did this happen?"

While he waited for Harry to answer, Snape let go out Harry's chin and drew his wand to cast a spell that sanitised and sealed the wound.

Harry racked his brain for an answer to Snape's question. Oh yeah, he'd banged his head on...on... "desk...hit me," he got out with a long exhale.

"Is that- can I smell alcohol on your breath?" Snape asked in disbelief.

"I'm s-s-sorry," Harry cried, the tears that had only just ceased began to flow again.

"You brainless-" Snape cut himself off. A public corridor was not the place to deal with this. He paused for a second before coming to a decision.

"Up," Snape ordered, but immediately realised the boy would need more than verbal commands to get him moving. "I'm going to pull you up, Potter, and you're going to walk with me." He didn't wait for a response, he didn't think he was going to get one. He just reached down and gripped the boy's upper arms, easily hauling him to his feet.

"Woah-" Harry swayed under unsteady feet. "I feel r'lly aw-awful," he announced.

"All the more reason to get moving. We're not going far."

Harry stumbled along beside his teacher, he still felt incredibly dizzy, and putting one foot in front of the other was taking all of his concentration. Snape kept a firm grip on his arm though, and that helped ground him just a little.

The Potions Master directed an inebriated Harry towards the Transfiguration office, as it was the closest floo network. He knocked on the door, waited a few moments but when no answer was forthcoming, pushed open the door anyway. The room was empty and dimly lit- the Gryffindor head of house was otherwise engaged.

"Come along, Potter," Snape muttered, not loosening his grip on the boy. "Have you ever used a floo before?"

"W'as that?" Harry slurred.

"I'll take that as a 'no'. This is not going to be pleasant. Don't pull away from me."

Snape pulled Harry towards the fireplace and tossed in a handful of powder he pinched from the mantelpiece, before stepping in and pulling Harry in with him, directing him to stand in front of him facing outwards, and placing one arm across his collar bones. Out of pure instinct Harry reached up to hang on, fisting his hands in Snape's voluminous robes.

Harry didn't even have a chance to ask what on earth they were doing before it felt like the floor dropped out from underneath him. They began to spin incredibly fast and there was a deafening roar in his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut, hanging impossibly tighter onto Snape's arm.

Just when he thought he couldn't stand it any longer, he felt as though he was spat out of the fireplace and he landed on his knees on a cool stone floor. Firm hands immediately hoisted him from under his armpits and he was deposited onto a much softer surface.

He leaned back gratefully into the soft cushions and opened his eyes blearily to attempt to take in his surroundings. Snape perched himself on the coffee table in front of him, taking up most of his line of sight.

"Whe're we?" Harry tried to ask, lifting his head so he could look around.

"Never mind that. You have a lot of explaining to do, Potter."

Harry scrunched his eyes closed again and leant his head back against the sofa again, breathing deeply in and out to try and stop the spinning sensation that had only diminished ever so slightly since being out of the fireplace.

"How much have you had to drink?"

"I-uh, I'm not- I lost count."

"You lost-," Snape raked a hand across his face. "Potter, look at me."

"G'na be sick," Harry explained, refusing to open his eyes. He heard a muttered incantation and something solid materialised on his lap. He cracked open one eye and focused in on the metal pail now sitting in his lap, he gratefully wrapped his arms around it, the coolness feeling wonderful against his sweaty palms. He hadn't realised he was feeling so warm.

"It's best you get whatever you haven't absorbed already out of your stomach. I have an emetic potion on hand if you require help with that."

"No I think-" was all Harry managed before he doubled over to throw up in the pail. After a few agonising moments, Harry sank back into the sofa, the pail, and thankfully its contents, vanishing from his lap after another muttered incantation from Snape. Throwing up was awful but he did feel a lot better for it.

A glass of water was thrust into his hands, and he took a grateful gulp. "Sip it slowly," Snape instructed, in a horrible echo of something Lockhart had said to him earlier. Harry shuddered.

Snape waved his wand and dabbed at Harry's forehead and cheek with the conjured warm, damp cloth. It came away spotted with red. He waved his wand again around Harry's temple and looked briefly satisfied before a hard glint returned to his eyes.

"You will explain yourself this instant, Potter," Snape bit out, now that the imminent danger of the boy being sick all over the floor had passed. "I cannot even begin to describe how much trouble you are in."

Harry just stared straight ahead, somewhere over Snape's shoulder, gripping tightly onto his water glass.

"Silence is never an option with me, you are aware of that. If you refuse to explain I shall have to summon the headmaster. I should have called him already." The Potions Master was having to clamp down on his own temper.

"I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry for what I said the other day," Harry's voice was shaking but he was determined to get his words out. "I didn't m-mean it, I do still want to work with you, p-please don't send me away. Or g-get Professor Dumbledore. I'll do w-whatever you say, I'll g-give up q-quidditch, I really will."

Snape just stared at him, a little stunned. That hadn't been remotely what he'd been expecting.

"Tell me what happened," Snape said, a smidgen less nastily. "Start with where you got the alcohol. If I find out another student has been supplying you, I demand that you tell me who this very moment."

"It wasn't- it wasn't a student," Harry admitted, chewing at this lip.

"Where did you get it then, Potter? I'm not going to skip around in circles guessing. Tell me. Now."

Harry just gazed at him with glassy eyes, tears welling, threatening to spill again.

"It was awful," Harry revealed. "I didn't want it. W-well, maybe I did a little bit to start, but then I really didn't." He sniffled, swiping at his cheek as a stray tear broke free. "It was fine to start with, then I just felt s-so awful and I didn't know what to do."

"Who, Potter?" Snape pressed urgently. "Who was it?"

"P-professor Lockhart," Harry finally whispered, hanging his head.

"What?" Snape hissed. He grabbed Harry's chin between his thumb and forefinger and steered his gaze back up. "I'm going to need more information than that, Potter."

"We-he invited me for dinner. I tried to think of a reason to get o-out of it because I didn't want to go but I couldn't think of one. And when I turned up he offered me a glass of wine. I said I didn't think I'd be allowed but he said one small glass would be fine if we kept it between us and didn't t-t-tell anyone else," Harry sucked in a big breath before continuing. "But it wasn't just one. He gave me a different one with each- with each meal we had. I think it was only three, but they weren't small. I mean- I don't think they were, he said they weren't. He l-laughed about it," Harry's tears were falling in earnest now. He didn't even bother swiping them away. His water glass was plucked out his hands and replaced with a handkerchief.

"Take this, Potter."

Harry peaked out from behind the handkerchief and reach obediently for the potion vial that Snape was holding out for him.

"A stomach soother. Drink it all."

Harry did and handed the empty vial back over. He immediately felt the benefits as his stomach stopped its swirling dance.

"And what happened to your head?" Snape continued on.

Harry swiped the handkerchief across his eyes and nose and gulped audibly. "I- I fell onto a desk, in the classroom, when I was r-running to get away. He kept asking me all these questions that I didn't want to answer after I'd had all that wine. And I started to feel so sick and dizzy and he has all these stupid p-pictures of himself on the wall and they were all staring at me and so I just ran."

"But you were off balance and stumbled, is that right?" Snape queried.

"Yeah, yeah that's right."

"Are you sure it wasn't him that hurt you?"

"N-no. I really did just trip," Harry confirmed.

"Does it still hurt at all?"

"No- not at all, really. Didn't even hurt when I did it."

"The alcohol flooding through your veins would have something to do with that, I should think. I have determined you do not have a concussion so a lucky escape once again. Now, is there anything else I should know before I call the headmaster?"

Harry hung his head again. "You're just passing me off to him?"

"Eyes up, Potter. I am not passing you off. But this is something I absolutely cannot keep from him, do you understand that? Besides, if I am left to deal with Professor Lockhart alone I cannot vouch for his continued good health."

"O-okay," Harry felt a little better at that admission.

"Well, is there anything else?"

"No, I don't- I don't think so. Not that I can think of," he started twisting the handkerchief around in his hands.

"Very well. Stay there, I'll be back in a moment."

He squeezed Harry's knees briefly as he stood up and made his way back over to the fireplace. Harry watched as he threw another handful of powder into the hearth and thought for a moment he was going to disappear like they had earlier. But the Potions Master only stuck his head in the flames for a few moments before pulling away.

"How do you not get burnt, sir?" Harry asked timidly, once he'd turned back around.

Snape observed the boy in front of him, his splotchy cheeks and red rimmed eyes. "Magic, Potter," he said dryly.

Harry didn't have a chance to say anything else before Professor Dumbledore was striding out from the fireplace, far more gracefully than Harry had been able to.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Dumbledore said, brushing an errant bit of soot from his sleeve.

"Hi," Harry answered, suddenly shy.

"I've heard you've had quite the ordeal this evening, my boy," Dumbledore said kindly, easing himself into a plush armchair opposite Harry's spot on the sofa. His face was impossible to read, but Harry could tell his usual cheerful nature wasn't on display.

"Um- I guess, yeah. A bit."

"Would you be able to tell me about it?"

Harry looked over to Snape, who was still hovering around the fireplace. He only nodded tightly in encouragement.

So Harry began his tale again, watching carefully for any reaction from either wizard.

"What sort of questions was he asking you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked when Harry had repeated what he'd told Snape.

"Oh- just uh, about my home life, and where I lived and stuff. And then about what secret I've been keeping, because I stupidly said there was something I couldn't tell him. And he wanted to know what that was. The thing about the voice I've been hearing."

Dumbledore nodded his understanding. "But you didn't tell him?"

Harry shook his head, blessedly relieved that the spinning sensation had greatly diminished. "No, that's when I ran."

"I think it's time I pay Professor Lockhart a visit," Dumbledore said after a moment's pause. Snape snorted. "A word before I leave, Severus?"

"Certainly, Headmaster. Don't move, Potter, we'll be right back."

Snape led the headmaster across the room and down a corridor out of sight. Harry strained his neck but he lost sight of them almost immediately.

"If you don't do something I will have to, Albus, and I'm positive you do not want that to happen." Snape said, as soon as they'd stepped into his study and he'd shut the door behind them. "I want him gone."

"I thought you might say that, Severus," Dumbledore said. "May I sit?"

"Of course, Albus," Snape waved him impatiently into a chair whilst taking a seat himself at the desk opposite.

"I can't let him go, Severus. You know that. There is simply no one else for the job."

"That is absurd, Albus. So the man can do anything without fear of retribution purely because you don't have a replacement. That is ludicrous," Snape sneered. "You should have seen the state the boy was in when I first found him. Your precious Potter was slumped on the floor, drunk out of his skull, distraught, and bleeding from the forehead. And you think Lockhart should get away with that?"

"I didn't say he would get away with it, Severus. Merely that I won't be asking for him to leave."

"So what will you do then?"

"I will be having a stern word with him- about appropriate relationships with students."

"Oh a stern word, how very bold of you," Snape sneered.

"It is good to see you defend Harry most ardently."

"Is that what you're getting out of this?" Snape said, outraged. "This man is a danger to the welfare of every student in this school, not just Potter."

"You mean to tell me you're not considering continuing your counsel?"

"He did express a wish for me to. Even promised to give up quidditch. But the child was blinded by drink at the time, so I hardly expect him to really mean it."

"A drunk mind speaks a sober heart, Severus."

"We are speaking of a child here, Albus. A child who one of your teachers gave so much alcohol to that he didn't even know where he was."

"And yet he knew enough to know he could turn to you."

"You are hopeless," Snape threw his hands up. "I am not the silver lining in this situation. There is none. There is only a child who has been severely manipulated and a grown man who you are refusing to hold accountable."

"He will be held accountable, Severus. I will make sure of it."

"Potter is not to be alone with him again. Ever. If he has a homework question- he comes to me. If there is a matter of discipline - he will be sent to me."

"I have no objection to that. You can discuss it with Harry."

"And you will tell Lockhart- spell it out for him plainly so the simpleton actually understands- if he so much as attempts to get Potter alone for a second I will not show the same restraint I am displaying now."

"I will..be sure to pass that along. In the meantime, I implore you to consider your termination of Harry's guidance. When he really needed someone, you are who he called for. Not me, not Poppy, not Minerva. You. The way he looks at you Severus, like he's asking for your permission, or seeking your approval."

"He simply knew how to summon me at a moment's notice," Snape dismissed.

"You can fool yourself, Severus, but you cannot fool me. He could have sent Dobby to fetch any one of us, but he chose you. In distress, he turned to you. Surely you can realise how huge that is. This is what we have been striving for, an adult that he can trust."

"And your blasted Lockhart has just hammered another nail into the distrustful adults’ coffin."

"Yes, that is unfortunate."

"That is a gross understatement," Snape pounded his fist angrily on the desk.

"But with you back on good terms, I'm sure you can teach him that more often than not adults are dependable."

"I'm starting to doubt it myself, Albus."

"Now, now. You are just a deeply distrustful person, Severus. And we wouldn't have you any other way. Now, I have difficult conversation to get through, and I'm sure you'll want to speak longer with young Harry."

Both men got to their feet, and walked back along the short hallway.

"Oh would you look at that," Dumbledore came to a halt where the hallway opened up into the living room.

Harry was fast asleep, feet curled up under him, snoring softly.

"Circe, did no one teach the boy not to put his shoes on the furniture. My furniture, no less," Snape complained.

"Yes, I must say I was rather surprised to discover you'd brought him here. Not even young Malfoy has set foot in your personal quarters, Severus. At least as far as I'm aware."

The twinkle had returned to the headmaster's eyes.

Chapter Text

As he watched Dumbledore depart, Snape sat down heavily in the armchair opposite the sleeping child. He lapsed gradually into a meditative state, closing his eyes, leaning into the disciplined nature of focusing on his breathing to distract him from the almighty urge to chase after the headmaster and-

A sudden prickling on the back of his neck caused his eyes to flutter open and sure enough, two emerald green eyes were gazing questioningly at him.

"Good, you're awake," Snape leant forward in his chair. "If you would be so kind as to take your shoes off my furniture."

Harry swiped his feet out from under him, his feet landing on the floor with a dull thud. "Your furniture?"

"Yes, Potter. Mine. These are my quarters."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly, looking around. "You live here?"

"Indeed."

"Am I allowed to be in here?" Harry asked, frowning, taking in the dark panelled wood that adorned the walls and the stone floor that Harry couldn't help but think must be freezing to walk on in the mornings.

"Technically? No. Students are forbidden from entering a teacher's personal quarters. However, I brought you here and the headmaster is aware of it and he had no immediate objection. So once again you seem to be the exception to the rule, Mr. Potter."

"Does every teacher have somewhere like this?" Harry craned his neck again to look down the corridor Snape and Dumbledore had disappeared down earlier, now convinced there must be more rooms down there.

"More or less," Snape responded. "But that is not the topic of conversation we should be following at this moment. I think it best that we get you off to sleep in an actual bed as soon as possible."

"But it's still so early and I'm feeling loads better! I don't even feel like being sick anymore."

"Nevertheless, what you need is sleep. We will talk more in the morning, I will come and fetch you."

"Fetch me from where?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"The hospital wi-,"

Harry dropped his head into his hands before Snape could even finish speaking. "I hate it there. I hate sleeping there. Why can't I just go back to my dorm?"

"Do use your brain, Potter," Snape said, but there was no heat behind it. "I cannot in good conscience let you sleep unsupervised after what you have consumed this evening. Madam Pomfrey will be able to keep an eye on you."

"Can't I just- I mean, can I sleep here instead?"

"Out of the question," Snape said.

"But why? I won't be any bother, I'll be really quiet."

"The answer is no, Potter. It's not happening. End of discussion."

The rejection stung and Harry tried his best not to show it. But his emotions were still feeling especially heightened and he couldn't hold back the well of tears.

"Can you just, uhh," he trailed off, swiping absently at a rogue tear and toeing with the corner of a plush green rug. "I mean, what will my punishment be? Can you at least tell me what that's going to be tonight?"

"Listen to me carefully, Potter," Snape waited for the boy to stop his fidgeting. "Are you listening?"

"Yes, sir." Harry almost whispered.

"Look at me then, please," a pause again until Harry complied. "There will not be a consequence for you for what has happened this evening."

"What?" Harry looked completely taken aback. "I mean- sorry, what do you mean, sir?"

"What happened this evening was not your fault. I do not blame you. Nor does the headmaster. You were grossly manipulated by a figure of authority and he is the only one with anything to fear in this situation. Do you understand me?"

"But I-I..," he trailed off.

"You were misled by someone who has a considerable amount of influence over you and thus cannot be held accountable for your actions."

"Wow," Harry sank back in relief.

"Now, we will continue this conversation in the morning. Up you get, let's go."

With obvious reluctance, Harry pushed himself to his feet. When Snape's back was turned he took a sneaky look back at the living room, trying to memorise any details he could tell Hermione and...Ron. Before wondering how on earth he was going to explain to them why he'd been there in the first place.

Snape spoke quietly with Madam Pomfrey while Harry changed into the pajamas he was given and clambered into a bed. He didn't even try to listen to what they were saying. He had felt a little unsteady on their walk up here and when he lay down flat on his back the room started to spin again. So eavesdropping was off the cards for now.

"Eurgh," he complained when closing his eyes somehow made the spinning even worse. He twisted around to plump up his pillows so he'd no longer be lying flat. Once he was propped up and the room was no longer dancing around him, he managed to succumb to the pull of sleep.

***

"Good morning, Mr. Potter."

Harry stirred, and opened bleary eyes, immediately squeezing them closed again when the bright light of the hospital wing attacked his eyeballs. His head was also throbbing unpleasantly. He made a grunting noise and tried to turn over to bury his face in his pillow.

"Oh no you don't. Sit up, young man. You need to take this potion."

"Whaissit?" he slurred, still half asleep.

"Something that I'm sure will make you feel much better. A headache cure."

Harry stuck out a hand and a vial was pressed into his palm. Without fully opening his eyes, he sat up a little and downed the potion in one. Madam Pomfrey was right, he did feel a lot better. The light no longer felt like it was personally trying to stab his eyes out and the throbbing faded considerably.

"Breakfast next," Madam Pomfrey ordered. Handing him a nutrient potion and conjuring a steaming bowl of oatmeal and fruit.

Harry dutifully downed a single swallow of the potion followed by a few mouthfuls of the oatmeal once it had cooled slightly. He really didn't feel like eating, despite the appetite stimulating potion, so he left most of it.

The medi-witch tittered when she came back over and saw what he'd left. "You're going to have to try and have a bit more, Harry."

Harry made a show of trying but really he just pushed the food around in the bowl with his spoon.

"What time can I go, Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked the next time she came over.

"Professor Snape is coming to collect you," was what she said in response, banishing his unfinished breakfast.

"Right," Harry said flatly.

"Speak of the devil," the medi-witch poked her head out of Harry's cubicle as they both heard the door creak open. She left him to greet the Potions Master and Harry grabbed his clothes from the night before and hastily changed out of the hospital wing pajamas he'd been given last night.

Not wanting to wait around any longer, he strode out from behind his curtain, the adults ceasing their conversation when he came into view.

"Ready to go, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered.

"Good day, Madam," Snape nodded his head in the medi-witch's direction whilst simultaneously gesturing at Harry to lead the way.

"Bye," Harry waved over his shoulder to Madam Pomfrey as he pushed the door open.

"Did you sleep well, Potter?" Snape inquired as they descended into the dungeons. No one else was around, it must have still been pretty early.

"Uh, yeah kinda. Could have slept for way more hours though," he complained. "Are we going back to your personal quarters?" Harry braved it to ask.

"No," Snape said simply.

"Why not? It's way more comfy there."

"My personal quarters are just that, personal, Potter. And not for students."

"But you said Professor Dumbledore said it was fine."

"I said he had no immediate objection. But an ongoing situation would not be appropriate." Snape pulled open the door to his office and stood aside so Harry would enter first.

"But I've already been in there now so it doesn't really make any difference," Harry whined, as he stomped towards his usual wooden chair. It looked especially uncomfortable after the luxury of Snape's sofa. "I don't see why we have to be uncomfy when-"

Snape grabbed his arm and spun him around before he could reach the chair, cutting him off in the process.

"We could take this meeting in your personal quarters if you'd rather?" Snape said in a mildly threatening tone, not releasing his arm.

Harry's eyes widened at the thought of the whole of Gryffindor sitting around watching him and Snape talk. "No, sir! It's fine, here is fine. I'm sorry."

"That's what I thought. Sit down." Snape let him go and Harry sat down quickly, his cheeks flushed slightly. "I don't appreciate my personal space being invaded anymore than you do, Potter. I get very little time to myself and my quarters are the only place I am not inundated by students."

"I get it, sir. I'm sorry." Harry apologised again.

"Let's move on then, shall we?"

Harry nodded quickly. "What happened to Professor Lockhart, sir?"

"As far as I am aware, nothing has happened to him. Professor Dumbledore has spoken with him on the inappropriate nature of his actions regarding you."

"Okay."

Snape gave him a long look, considering his next words. "If it were up to me he would no longer have a job at this school. As it stands, the headmaster has his reasons why that cannot happen."

Harry remained quiet at this information.

"That being said, I do not want you alone with him again. If you need homework assistance you may come to me, if he asks you to stay behind after class, you ignore him, you come to me, and I will deal with him. Merlin, if you see him in the corridor you turn right around, am I understood?"

"Does that mean- are we continuing-," Harry bit his lip, "this?" he finished lamely.

The Potions Master gave him a steady look. "You said as much last night that you were wanting to resume this. Given your inebriation, I didn't take you fully at your word. But is that still your predilection?"

"Uh, if that means do I still mean it, then yeah," he gulped. "Yes, sir."

"What has changed since the other evening when we called a halt to this?"

"Well nothing really. I mean, I sort of regretted it as soon as I'd said it. And since then I've just been feeling...lost. Like I didn't know who to turn to. And then this thing with Lockhart," Harry shuddered. "I'm not sure what I would have done if you hadn't turned up when you did. If it had been him that found me and not you. I really do need your help, sir, and I'm sorry that I doubted you."

"You need to believe that I am doing what is best for you. Without that belief there is really no way for us to proceed."

"I do believe that."

"I'm not sure that you do, Potter. I think you want to but ultimately do not," he held his hand up to forestall Harry's denial. "And that is not a criticism, merely an observation."

Harry hung his head.

"But I do believe that you can learn to." Harry snapped his head back up, his eyes wide.

"I should have listened to your concerns and we could have worked through them together. That is mostly what we are trying to achieve here. So I offer my apologies, also, for not meeting your needs at the time."

Harry gaped at his teacher.

"Do not look so shocked, Potter," Snape said, with a hint of humour. "I realise you have not had much opportunity to experience what it feels like to trust an adult so it is not unusual that we will experience some setbacks along the way."

"I'm trying, sir, I really am. And like I said, if us talking again means I have to give up quidditch, I really will."

"At this time, I do not think it necessary."

Harry frowned in confusion. "But you said-,"

"I never actually made the request of you. Merely the suggestion of it triggered such a response."

"So I can keep playing?"

"Yes. But if I notice it starts to have a negative impact on your overall health and well-being we may have to reconsider. Now shall we move onto more important matters?"

"Quidditch is important to me, sir."

"Yes, I've gathered that. However, in the grand scheme of things there are a few things higher on the agenda."

"Sure," Harry allowed.

"I need you to think back to yesterday and whether there's anything else you've remembered," Snape said. "It would be understandable if there's anything you missed out."

"Erm, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I told you everything."

"Is there anything you would like to discuss about what occurred?"

"Um, should there be?"

"Not necessarily. I'm just giving you the opportunity if there were to be something you wanted to say about it."

Harry thought for a second. "Why do people drink alcohol? It doesn't even taste that nice plus it makes you feel awful."

"I cannot speak for the masses, but there are a number of reasons that adults chose to drink alcoholic beverages. Stress relief, general enjoyment, and despite what you might think, the taste can be pleasantly palatable." Harry wrinkled his nose. "I know I said I do not hold you personally responsible for your alcohol consumption last night, you were misled and did not know any better. So let me make this clear- if somehow the situation is to arise again and someone offers you a drink before you come of age- I do not care if it is the Queen of England or the Dark Lord himself, you say 'no'. No matter the circumstance. Am I clear?"

"I mean, I don't think I'd take anything that Voldemort offered-"

"Potter," Snape growled.

"Yes, it's clear, sir."

"Good. If you are sure there is nothing else you wish to discuss then you may return to your dormitory."

***

With the return of Snape's influence in his life, Harry felt it was probably a good idea to follow his rules again so he called Dobby when he stepped out into the dungeon corridor.

"Master Harry," Dobby gasped when he popped into being. "Dobby was worrying that you was being hurt."

"I'm fine, Dobby," Harry smiled down at the little elf as they walked along. "Thank you for fetching Professor Snape when I asked though. I really did need him."

"Master Harry should have called for Dobby earlier, you is not supposed to be being alone."

"I know, I know," Harry groaned. "We had a misunderstanding. But it's all sorted now."

"Dobby is glad to be hearing that, Master Harry."

"Can't you just call me 'Harry', Dobby? Is that allowed?"

"Oh no, Master Harry. Dobby could not be calling you that."

Harry spoke the password to the Fat Lady and the portrait swung open. He'd just glanced down to say goodbye to Dobby when someone slammed into him.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick!"

"God, Hermione! You scared the crap out of me. I'm fine, but please stop crushing me."

She released him but didn't move from her spot blocking the entrance to the common room.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, mister. We were just on our way to ask Professor McGonagall where you were."

"We?" Harry questioned.

Hermione stepped aside slightly to reveal Ron just behind her.

"Oh," Harry said dumbly. "Hi."

"Hi," Ron returned, with an awkward smile. It was the most they'd spoken in almost a week.

Looking up at his two friends, Harry felt an increasingly overwhelming need to share what he'd just been through.

"Shall we go somewhere where we can talk?" Harry suggested. "I have a lot to say. To both of you," he added, looking at Ron.

"Sure," Hermione said. "Where do you suggest?"

The three of them wandered up to the astronomy tower, sure they'd not encounter anyone else in the early morning. There was a refreshing breeze and Harry relished the feeling of the wind in his hair. They sat next to each other in a tight semi- circle, facing out towards the view of the rolling Scottish hills.

"I'm sorry I've been such a prat, Ron," Harry started. Not quite making eye contact with his friend. "I shouldn't take my anger out on you, when it's not you that I'm angry at. It's not fair and I'm really sorry."

"Mate, it's alright," Ron nudged his shoulder with his own. "We know you're going through something. I mean- I've seen it. And if you're not allowed to tell us that's fine. I shouldn't have kept on. And I'm sorry I said it's hard to be your friend sometimes. It's not true and I felt really bad about that as soon as I'd said it."

"That's okay. I would understand if you meant it."

"But I don't, Harry," Ron said earnestly. "I love being your friend. We both do. This week has sucked seeing you so off and not being able to ask if you're okay. I know you usually fob us off but it felt weird not even asking you."

"Yeah this week has been..interesting."

"What's going on, Harry? What can you tell us?" Hermione asked gently.

Harry let a few moments pass before he answered, and they all watched as a barn owl soared through the sky just above them. "Well to start with I was in the hospital wing again last night," Harry eventually said.

Hermione nodded. "When Ron said you hadn't come back last night we thought that must be the case."

"Honestly, mate. I think you've spent more nights there than in your own bed. Does Pomfrey have a cubicle with your name on a plaque above it now: 'reserved for the sole use of Harry Potter'?"

"She may as well," Harry complained.

"Did something happen with Professor Lockhart?" Hermione guessed. "You never came back from your dinner with him."

"You could say that," Harry said carefully. "The thing is, he gave me wine to drink. And not just one glass. It was at least three. And I basically got wasted."

"He did what?" the two of them exclaimed in unison.

Chapter Text

"That's awesome!" Ron continued excitedly. "What did it feel like? Being trolleyed?"

"Ronald!" Hermione leaned over Harry to punch their friend in the arm. "Can't you tell this is not a good thing?"

"Hey! What do you mean? My parents would kill me if I had a drop of alcohol but Harry's out here just getting given it by a professor. Lucky bugger."

"They would kill you for a good reason, Ron. Because it's totally inappropriate for us to be drinking at our age."

"You sound like Percy, 'Mione. And that is not a compliment."

"Harry had to spend the night in the hospital wing, Ron, do you think that's awesome too?"

Harry cleared his throat and the two stopped their bickering.

"You were- I mean- it was fine right, Harry?" Ron asked, but uncertainty had crept into his voice.

"Maybe at the beginning. But it was awful by the end."

"Merlin, mate, I'm sorry. Lockhart is such a tosser."

"It's okay," Harry smiled briefly at the insult. "I get why you would think it would be fun. I thought it might be too, which is why I went along with it to start with." Harry paused, wondering how to continue.

"Go on," Hermione encouraged gently. "If you want to tell us, we're here to listen."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, once again gazing out across the rolling hills.

"Like I said, it started fine," he began slowly. "He was just talking about himself and he joked that one little glass of wine would be fine. But he just kept giving me more and more and we weren't really eating much but then he started asking about me. About where I grew up and stuff."

"And what...what did you tell him?" Ron asked.

"Nothing really. I made a run for it." Harry shrugged.

"And he just let you go?"

"Well I didn't exactly ask for permission to be dismissed. I literally ran for it."

"And were you, like, drunk by this point?"

"I would say so, yeah. I could barely walk straight, I smacked my head on a desk on the way out too. Pomfrey healed it though, so you can't see it anymore." He rubbed absently at his forehead.

"We wouldn't see it anyway," Hermione pointed out. "Because of your glamour."

"Oh, they think that's gone now actually. I meant to ask Snape about that but I totally forgot."

"Snape?" Ron said suspiciously. "What's he got to do with this?"

"He's the one making Harry's potion, right?" Hermione looked at Harry. "The nutrient one?"

"Uh, yeah exactly," Harry nodded quickly, mentally kicking himself for being so careless. Although he was beginning to realise keeping Snape out of this story was going to be tricky. So would it be better to just tell them?

"So then what happened?" Hermione interrupted Harry's musings. "How did you make it to the hospital wing?"

Harry closed his eyes and took another deep breath to try and slow his heart that had begun to race at the potential reaction to what he was about to say.

"Harry," Hermione laid a hand gently on his shoulder, gently enough that he could shrug it off if he wanted to. But he didn't. "Whatever it is, you can tell us."

"Promise you won't freak out." His eyes were still closed. "Both of you."

"Of course we won't," Hermione leaned over to prod Ron, giving him a meaningful look.

"Yeah, mate. Promise."

Harry opened his eyes again, but couldn't quite look at his friends. "Okay, so once I'd gotten out of the classroom I just ran as far as I could. But like I said, I was feeling awful by this point. I was so dizzy so I don't really think I made it far. And when I couldn't go any further I called for Dobby..."

"Great thinking, mate," Ron approved.

"...and asked him to get Snape," Harry added.

Ron's face scrunched in confusion. "Did you say Snape?"

"He did, Ron. Remember what you just promised," Hermione warned.

"I'm not freaking out," Ron assured, holding up his hands. "I just don't get it."

"Snape's been helping me. A bit. With...things," Harry finished lamely.

"I knew there was something more going on between you two," Hermione said confidently. "It doesn't take all evening to fetch a vial of potions. And you've been acting weirdly around him. And frankly he's been a lot less nasty towards you in class."

"What do you mean 'things'?" Ron pressed.

"And there was that time he came looking for you at dinner. And another time when you and Ron went to see Hagrid and had to get Dobby to fetch him and you wouldn't tell me what happened. Really, Harry we already knew, I was just waiting for you to say something," Hermione revealed.

"Who is 'we'?" Ron argued. "I thought we just thought it was something to do with the nutrient-y potion or whatever it is."

"Honestly, Ron, it was obvious," Hermione sighed.

"Not to me! What else is he helping you with?"

"I don't really want to get into it right now," Harry admitted. "But he's basically in charge of me, sort of like McGonagall is for you. And we talk about stuff. Like that thing I can't tell either of you about. He's helping me with that."

"Snape? Are you sure that's a good idea, mate. He hates you! And you hate him!"

"I don't really," Harry mumbled.

Ron gaped, apparently speechless, so Hermione stepped in.

"Well I'm glad you're talking to someone." Ron looked like he'd require a little more convincing. "But we've gotten a bit off topic, what happened when Snape found you?"

"Well he was angry. Really angry. But only because he thought another student had given it to me. But he completely changed when I told him it was Lockhart. He gave me a potion to make me feel better, called Dumbledore to come and talk to me and then dropped me off at the hospital wing."

"So what's Dumbledore doing about Lockhart? Is he fired?" Ron asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

"I don't think so. Dumbledore went to talk to him after he'd spoken to Snape and me. But he said he's not being fired, so I don't know what they talked about. But Snape told me I'm not allowed to be alone with him."

"It's totally absurd that he's allowed to continue teaching after what he's done," Hermione said. "What could Professor Dumbledore possibly be thinking?"

"Wow, that's big coming from you, Hermione. Lockhart's number one fan," Ron wiggled his eyebrows playfully at her.

"Shut up, Ron. Of course my opinion of him has changed significantly now, after what he's done to Harry."

"So what did McGonagall say? When all this started with Snape?" Ron asked, unable to let the topic go.

"Uh, she wasn't too happy about it. I dunno what Snape said to her to get her to agree, but she seems fine with it now. But you can't tell anyone else. That he's helping me. He said it's okay if I tell you guys but we have to keep it to ourselves. At least for now."

"Do not worry about that, mate. I'm not sure anyone would believe us if we told them anyway."

Harry smiled. A little more convincingly this time. "I know it seems crazy. I felt crazy at the time."

"Well something must be working," Hermione commented. "If your accidental magic has stopped producing your glamour. That's really good news, Harry."

"Yeah I guess it is. Thanks for not losing it on me. I really thought you'd flip out. Especially you, Ron. No offence."

"Non taken. I mean, I'm not sure I fully get it yet," Ron said. "But like Hermione said, clearly the git is doing something good for you."

"Ron!"

"It's a joke, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "I mean- sort of. Give me a break! I can't change my opinion of the bloke in two seconds!"

"It's fine, Hermione," Harry allowed. "He is still a bit of a git. Even to me."

"There you have it," Ron smiled triumphantly at Hermione. "Still presenting git-like behaviour. How's that?"

Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Okay, well, I think I'm going to go for a quick fly- I feel like I need to clear my head," Harry got to his feet.

"Want me to come?" Ron offered.

"No, thanks though. I feel like I need to fly alone. I'll call Dobby to watch me though, don't worry. Thanks again, for listening."

"Anytime, Harry. You know that. See you in a bit," Hermione said.

The two watched as Harry began to descend the stone staircase and once he was sure Harry was out of earshot, Ron turned to Hermione.

"Didn't care to share your detective work with me then?"

"You two were barely talking, Ron," Hermione said defensively. "I didn't think you'd want to hear it."

"That's fair I guess. Ugh, why do you always have to have an answer for everything."

"Because I'm a genius. We've been over this."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes.

"I'm glad he has someone. An adult he can talk to."

"Yeah. Even if it is Snape. That is gonna take some getting used to." Ron let out a long suffering sigh.

"You better be supportive, Ronald. Who knows, maybe Harry will tell him about the Dursleys and he won't have to go back there."

"Do you think so?" Ron said, getting to his feet and pulling Hermione up when she stuck out her arm for help.

"Maybe." She brushed the dust off the back of her skirt. "It sounds like he's taking things pretty seriously if he's told Harry he can't be alone with Professor Lockhart already. We don't know what the Dursleys have done to Harry but something tells me it's even worse than giving him a few glasses of wine."

"Do you think we should talk to him? To Snape I mean? About what we think might be happening?"

"No, no I think it's best we leave it to them," Hermione said as they slowly began to follow in Harry's footsteps. "I have a feeling Professor Snape will get it out of him."

***

The next morning, as the second year Gryffindors made their way up from the dungeons and towards their defense lesson, Harry began to feel an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Just the thought of being in the same room as Lockhart right now was intolerable and his stomach began to churn sickeningly as his thoughts began to spiral.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked when she noticed he'd dropped behind.

"Uh, I think I'm gonna...skip this one. I don't think I can- I can't do this right now." And without a backward glance he turned right around and walked back the way they had come.

"Enter," came the familiar drawl of the Potions Master when Harry knocked on the door. He'd guessed correctly that Snape would still be in his classroom so soon after their lesson had finished.

He pushed open the door but remained on the threshold, unwilling to step any further.

"Potter," Snape said when he saw him. "Did you forget something?"

"Uh, no sir," Harry admitted, biting his lip hard.

"Then what can I do for you?"

"I just- I have defense now. I mean, I'm supposed to," he corrected. "But I don't think I can go. Is that- is that okay?"

"Come and sit down," Snape instructed.

Harry edged into the classroom slowly, unable to pinpoint why he was feeling so reluctant.

"You do not wish to be in the presence of Gilderoy Lockhart," Snape stated when Harry had sat down opposite him in the front row of workbenches.

Harry blanched. Clearly Snape had no problem putting his feelings into words.

"Something like that," Harry murmured in response although Snape hadn't posed it as a question.

"Do you foresee this being an ongoing problem?" Snape asked.

"I mean, I'm not sure. Maybe?" Harry offered. "It's hard to say right now, I guess."

"I have no qualms removing you from Professor Lockhart's defense lessons for the duration of the school year if that is what you decide. You would be completely justified if you were to make that choice."

Harry frowned. Miss a whole year of defense? Was that even allowed?

"But- I can't just drop defense. What about- about the end of year exam? I can't just not study defense for a whole year."

"Oh, you'll still study defense, Potter. Under my tutelage. I daresay you might actually learn something."

"You'll teach me?" Harry was shocked.

"If you wish it."

Harry thought hard for a second. The two of them famously did not get along in a classroom setting. Would it be any different being taught defense than being instructed in potions?

"What would it involve?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Everything you would expect. Structured lessons, homework, progress exams. The only difference is that you would be the only student."

"And when would these lessons be?"

"Yes, our main issue. I do not always have a free period scheduled at the same time as your original defense lessons. You would have to sacrifice some of your free time to allow for that."

Harry didn't bother asking how his teacher seemed to know his schedule off by heart. "I would be okay with that. If it means getting out of Professor Lockhart's lessons. But I can't do Monday or Thursday evenings because of-"

"Spare me from the quidditch talk," Snape interrupted him, but he conceded immediately, much to Harry's relief. "We will consider both of our schedules when arranging lessons."

"Okay, then I'm in," Harry said.

"I warn you, this is not the easy option, Potter. In fact, it will be considerably harder than sitting in Lockhart's classroom learning of his...escapades."

"That's okay with me. I want to actually learn something useful. When can we start?"

"There is no time like the present. Follow me."

Harry eagerly jumped out of his seat and followed his teacher as they stepped out of the classroom and into the corridor.

"Wait in here," Snape instructed, pulling open the door to his office. "I will return momentarily."

Harry slipped inside and took a seat. He tried his best to wait patiently but he was excited to see what Snape had in store for him. His leg bounced up and down in an indecipherable mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

As promised, Snape returned after only a few minutes. He swept into the room, taking his seat across from Harry. He leaned over and held out a slim volume.

"What's this?" Harry questioned.

"I believe you are familiar with the concept of a book."

Harry flushed. "Of course," he mumbled, ducking his head to simultaneously read the title and hide his embarrassment.

Essential Defensive Concepts- Volume I

"I have to read this?"

"Generally what one does with a book, yes."

Harry huffed, annoyed again at being caught out by Snape's sharp intellect. "Before you teach me anything I have to read this?" he clarified.

"I told you this would resemble your regular lessons. Firstly, you learn the theory and then we move on to the practical. Read chapter one if you would, and then we will discuss it."

Harry dutifully cracked open the book and turned to chapter one, sneakily flicking through to the end of it to see how many pages it was before he started. Fifteen! And the writing was tiny! It did sound interesting though- the chapter was titled Achieving the Upper Hand- The Art of Disarming.

Harry took his time reading as he had a feeling Snape was going to test him on the content and he wanted to show he was taking this seriously. And to his surprise, it was actually interesting enough to keep his attention. So it was some time later before Harry cleared his throat, closed the book and placed it on the desk in front of him, hoping his professor would get the hint. The man had remained busy with a stack of marking whilst Harry had been reading.

"I take it you are finished," Snape commented, without so much as a glance in Harry's direction.

"Yes, sir," Harry confirmed.

Snape finished whatever he was writing with a flourish and placed his quill in its ink pot. Focusing his attention on Harry. "Who was the first recorded user of the disarming spell and consequently the likely inventor?"

"Uhh," Harry screwed up his face in concentration. "Elizabeth Smudgling, in 1378- no! 79. 1379."

"And what is the purpose of the spell?"

"To make a person drop whatever they're holding."

"Most notably?"

"Their wand."

"And what is one potential effect apart from the obvious removal of an object?"

"You can knock a person over too."

"In what circumstance?"

"If there's a lot of power behind the spell," Harry said, beginning to feel pleased with himself that he could answer all of Snape's questions.

"Very good. Unfortunately, that is all we have time for today," Snape stated, glancing at the clock on the wall. Harry was surprised at how disappointed he felt. "I believe we have coinciding free periods tomorrow, so report back here after morning break and we will begin the practical component. Take the book with you, it's yours for the time being. You may read ahead if you wish. But do not even think of attempting anything practical. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Off you go then."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said sincerely, sliding the slim volume into his bag and heading for the door.

***

Harry dawdled in a corridor just off the defense classroom, in the direction he knew the Gryffindors would walk after they were dismissed. He didn't feel like waiting right outside, just in case he came into contact with Lockhart.

Sure enough, just a few minutes after he'd arrived, he was able to send Dobby away as the corridor started to fill with his peers.

"Harry!" he heard Ron's voice cut through the buzz of mixed voices. "What happened to you, mate?" Ron and Hermione appeared amongst the throng of students. "Where'd you get to?"

"Let's get out of here and I'll tell you," Harry promised. He couldn't help glancing around, feelings of paranoia beginning to set in.

"Yeah sure," Ron agreed. "Let's move."

"I went to see Snape," Harry revealed once they'd managed to distance themselves from the bustle of the main corridor, the three of them huddling in a window nook. "He said I don't have to go to Lockhart's lessons anymore if I don't want to."

"Lucky sod," Ron grumbled.

"What!" Hermione gasped. "No defense lessons? That's pretty drastic, Harry."

"Oh I'll still have defense lessons. I just had one actually. Snape's teaching me."

"Uh, are you sure that's a good idea, mate?" Ron said. "He's bad enough when there's a whole class of us to pick on. I can't imagine what it would be like if you're the only one there."

"It's not going to be like that."

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I just get a feeling. He's different when no one else is around. When it's just us."

"I thought you said he was still a git to you?" Ron pointed out.

"Well yeah, but not in, like, a nasty way. Just sort of in an annoying way really. Teachery, y'know."

"Teachers aren't inherently annoying, Harry," Hermione said exasperatedly.

"They kind of are," Ron said, causing Hermione to sigh deeply.

"Well anyway, I'm sure it's gonna be fine. I've already learnt some interesting things just from reading the book he gave me."

"Oh, what book?!"

"You are so easily swayed, Hermione," Ron sniggered. "Snape gives him a book and suddenly you're all in favour of it."

Harry smiled too and reached into his bag and handed Hermione the book. She flicked through it eagerly.

"I've not seen this in the library. Would you mind if I borrow it too?"

Harry held his hand out and Hermione genuinely looked heartbroken as she handed it over and watched him slip it back into his bag.

"I'll ask him," Harry assured her. "I'm sure it's fine though."

"Thanks."

"Okay just tell me, although I'm not sure if I really want to know, but did Lockhart say anything when I didn't show up?"

"Uh...yeah. He did," Ron said slowly. "But I don't think he actually meant it. If Dumbledore has spoken to him surely he can't mean it. He just said it so that everyone else would think you're being punished for skipping his lesson again."

"Why- what did he say?" Harry asked, the earlier feelings of dread beginning to unfurl again in his belly.

"Just that he'd come and find you and-"

What! When? What! Why didn't you tell me this straight away?!"

"Honestly, Harry, Ron's right. I think he was just saying it for the benefit of everyone else."

"But you don't know for sure?"

"Well, no. But we just figured he wouldn't be that stupid to ignore whatever Professor Dumbledore told him. Which surely was to stay away from you, right?"

"Oh god," Harry moaned. "What if he comes looking for me in Herbology?"

"I really don't think-" Hermione started.

"But you don't know for sure! I'm not risking it. I'm gonna tell Snape, I'll catch up with you later."

The two of them watched as Harry darted down the corridor and out of sight.

"I know I said this before, but this running off to Snape thing is really going to take some getting used to," Ron muttered.

Chapter Text

Harry didn't even notice the curious looks people gave him as he sped past them down the corridors. His focus was only on reaching the dungeons again.

He hammered on the door of Snape's office, probably a little too excessively because the panic he was feeling hadn't abated by much. He waited for the customary admittance and frowned to himself when it didn't come straight away. He could practically hear his heartbeat in his ears so maybe he'd just missed it?

He knocked again, more calmly this time, pressing his cheek up against the wood of the door to make sure he didn't miss it this time. But again, there was nothing.

"Oh god," Harry moaned. He hadn't planned for this outcome. He ran a little down the corridor, and knocked on the door of the potions classroom too. He was willing to risk Snape yelling at him for disturbing his lesson. But again, no sound came from inside.

In his desperation, he tried the handle anyway, but the door did not budge. Either Snape wasn't in there or he didn't want to be bothered by Harry right now.

Harry racked his brain for where else he could go. He definitely wasn't going to go to Herbology. Lockhart would know to look for him there. And for that same reason he couldn't just hide out in the Gryffindor common room. Snape had said that all teachers had a password that could get them into any Houses' common room.

So where else was there?

Hagrid's felt too close to the Herbology greenhouses, Pomfrey would just fuss over him when there was literally nothing wrong with him. He just had to find Snape or somewhere to wait until he came back from wherever he was, Professor McGonagall had said he could always go to her but the Transfiguration corridor was a little too close to the Defense corridor! He didn't know how to get into the staffroom or have a clue where it even was.

The feelings of panic were beginning to ramp up again as his mind raced to find a solution.

But it was getting more and more difficult for him to form a coherent thought as his chest was starting to get tight and his vision was blurring around the edges.

He tried to drag a breath in but he just couldn't inhale, it was like something was blocking his windpipe. He clawed uselessly at his throat, digging his nails in hard, but the pain didn't register in his distraught mind.

All of a sudden, he felt a pair of strong hands close around his wrists, dragging them away from his throat. He flinched. Hard. And immediately struggled against the confinement.

"Potter. It's Professor Snape," managed to filter through his distress.

His whole body immediately sagged in relief and he practically melted into the arms that were now fully supporting his weight as he swayed unsteadily on his feet.

"Wh're were you?" he mumbled at the floor, after a few agonising moments of silence had passed in which he'd managed to gulp in a few lungfuls of air.

Now that Snape was here and his world didn't feel like it was ending, he was suddenly flooded with embarrassment at his reaction. He wondered just how many times he could humiliate himself this way in front of his teacher. He attempted to pull away again. This time, Snape let him go.

"Sorry-," Harry began. He had a strange urge to offer an apology.

"Come with me," was all Snape said, cutting off his attempt to apologise and instead reached out to turn him around to face the other way with a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder, and encouraged him to start walking.

Harry followed the directions without complaint, although confusion was written all over his face. Snape's office was not this way, and neither was the hospital wing.

Snape stopped them in front of a portrait whose occupant must have been elsewhere as the ornate throne was empty. Although when Harry took a closer look he spotted a small dark green grass snake who appeared to be snoozing on the seat of the throne.

Harry watched on as Snape tapped the side of the frame with his wand, causing the portrait to swing open.

A gentle nudge and Harry was stepping through the portrait hole into a pleasantly familiar setting.

Harry whipped around as soon as he realised, eyes wide, unable to believe his luck.

"Your quarters?" was all he managed to say, a little breathlessly.

"Against my better judgment. Take a seat." Snape gestured towards the sofa and Harry was only too happy to comply, he knew how comfortable it was and he sank gratefully into its cushions.

"You should be in class, Mr. Potter," Snape began sternly, as he sat in the plush armchair opposite.

"Right, yeah, I know. But the thing is, I uh-,"

"Moreover," Snape spoke over him, "you should not be alone in the corridors."

Harry felt all of the blood drain from his face.

Dobby.

Why on earth hadn't he thought to call Dobby to find Snape?!

"I didn't mean to be!" Harry rushed to defend himself. "I just wasn't- wasn't thinking straight. I had to find you but I couldn't so I was trying to think where I could wait for you but-"

"Stop," was all Snape said, and Harry did. "What did you need me for that necessitated you skipping your lessons and couldn't possibly wait until your lunch hour?"

"Lockhart said he was gonna come and find me. Or that's what Ron told me he'd said. When I didn't show up for class," Harry said in a small voice.

Snape visibly stiffened. "Tell me exactly what was said," Snape urged.

"Just that."

"Did he say when or where?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "I didn't really hang around to find out. I just came straight here. Or straight to look for you. To tell you. I didn't feel like I could go to Herbology because what if he came for me there? He'd be able to find out my schedule, right? Like you can. And Professor Sprout wouldn't know that he's supposed to stay away from me and might force me to speak with him if he came asking for me."

"I understand, Potter."

Harry slumped back in relief, unaware how desperately he'd needed to feel understood.

"I was just trying to think where you'd be or where I could wait until you'd be somewhere I could find you. Which is when I got all-," he broke off, hoping Snape would catch his drift.

"May I take a look at your neck?"

"Huh?'' The question took Harry completely off guard but instinctually he raised a hand to his throat feeling the lines of the raised scratches underneath his fingers. "Oh, it's fine. It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Not to my satisfaction," Snape said simply.

"What about Lockhart?"

"He cannot get to you here."

"I know."

"So my immediate concern is checking those wounds on your neck."

"They're not wounds," Harry argued petulantly. "Just a few scratches."

"And I'm going to give you one last opportunity to have me look at them or-,"

"Or what- let me guess, you'll dump me on Madam Pomfrey?" Harry interrupted bitterly.

"Yes." Snape said nothing about Harry's interruption. But he could sense a subtle shift in the Potions Master's demeanour.

"Why do you always threaten to send me there?" he pressed anyway.

"It is not a threat, Potter, merely the reality of the situation. The choice is yours."

"I swear they're fine-"

"I'm not discussing the situation further with you," Snape said cuttingly. "Make your choice or I will make it for you."

Harry could have sworn he could tangibly feel the struggle between the two of them. But he knew inevitably Snape would get his way. "Fine, you can look at them," Harry eventually conceded.

"Come here then," Snape said without further comment, settling forward in his seat.

Harry got to his feet and dragged himself around the coffee table to stand in front of his teacher, feeling extreme reluctance as he did so.

He was at the perfect height where Snape only had to tilt his chin up to get a good look at his neck. He stood ramrod straight with his arms behind his back, absently picking at the skin around his thumb.

"You did manage to break the skin," Snape murmured. "I'm just going to sanitise them, alright? It shouldn't hurt."

"Hm," Harry managed in assent.

"Tergeo."

Harry shivered despite feeling no effect of the spell.

"Alright?" Snape asked again, uncharacteristically gently.

"Uhuh."

"One more."

This time Harry felt a slight tingling and when he raised a hand to feel his neck again, the raised scratches were gone.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Go and sit back down," Snape directed.

Harry sank back into the sofa. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and bury his face in the cushions. But Snape had been annoyed last time he'd put his shoes on the furniture.

He just couldn't place why he was feeling so unmoored.

"There is no need to thank me, or anyone else for that matter, for healing. In fact, I would rather you didn't."

Harry fixed his eyes on the floor. "S'just bein' polite," he mumbled, looking supremely uncomfortable.

"Can you explain your reluctance?"

"For what?"

"For why you tend to refuse healing at every turn."

"I don't," Harry denied.

"There is a slew of evidence that would suggest otherwise," Snape countered.

"What evidence?" Harry bit out.

"Aside from the display I have just witnessed," Snape paused pointedly, "you fight tooth and nail every time a trip to the hospital wing is merely suggested."

"That's because I hate people fussing over me. I don't need every little scratch and scrape looked at and healed. I don't like it and I don't need it. I can take care of myself."

"You are used to it but that doesn't mean that has to be the way things are going forward."

"Obviously I know I need help if I break my arm or something. But I can handle a few scratches."

"You don't have to handle it alone. You deserve someone to care regardless of the severity of your injury."

"What, and that's going to be you is it?" Harry snapped, not sure why he was feeling so defensive.

"I believe you have already asked me for my assistance." Snape didn't rise to Harry's bait.

"Not for this," he gestured vaguely at where his scratches had been.

"For what then?"

"I know what you want from me. What Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore want."

"Professor Dumbledore," Snape stressed. "But do enlighten me, what do we all want?"

"You want me to talk about the stupid Dursleys."

Snape didn't confirm or deny it. "And what is it that you want?"

"I just want to never have to go back there. And for you all to stop fussing over me all the time. I'm not a baby."

"No, but you are still a child. And part of my agreement to take you on in whatever capacity we developed was to also be in charge of your mental and physical well-being. Which leads us to my being concerned for any and all injuries you sustain."

"I didn't even come here to talk about this," Harry complained, trying his best to change the subject.

"And yet here we are," Snape said simply.

"So do I have to go back there?" Harry thought to ask.

"I should say Madam Pomfrey has enough evidence to prevent that occurrence. Whether you provide me with additional details or not."

"So where will I go?"

"That will be sorted, do not concern yourself," Snape dismissed.

"Ron's?"

"Possibly," Snape said evasively.

"How did you even know I was here? I mean out there, in the corridor."

"Portraits," was all Snape revealed.

"Right."

"Do not think for a second that I haven't noticed your attempts at redirecting the conversation." Harry flushed at his lack of subtlety. No one was subtle enough for Snape. "We will revisit this topic another time. If you are feeling up to it I will escort you to the latter half of your Herbology lesson."

"What?! What about Professor Lockhart?" Harry asked hurriedly, hating that he started feeling panicked almost immediately.

"I will handle Professor Lockhart."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Snape said sardonically. "So what will it be, the greenhouse, or your common room for a lie down?"

"You mean you're not forcing me on Madam Pomfrey?"

"I can take you to rest in the hospital wing if you prefer," Snape said nonchalantly.

"No! No, I was just wondering. I can go to class, I feel fine. As long as you're sorting Professor Lockhart."

"Oh, I'll sort him," Snape said mildly, but Harry shivered at the undertone.

"I sort of wish I could watch."

"Do not be absurd, Potter."

"I'm not! I just think it would be funny to watch him get his ars- nevermind."

"A wise decision."

***

Their walk to Herbology was largely a silent one. It seemed they were both lost in thought. Harry was itching to ask what his teacher was going to do about Lockhart. He'd never found out what Dumbledore had said to him and his curiosity was practically begging to be fulfilled.

It just wasn't fair how he was kept in the dark all the time. Especially when he was so involved in this situation. He had half a mind to speak up and demand he be told, but he wasn't feeling up to an argument with Snape at the moment. That took too much energy.

Just as they'd stepped out of the oak front doors and the greenhouses were in sight, glinting in late morning sun, a hand on his shoulder caused Harry to turn.

"Before you go, Potter," Snape spoke clearly, Harry hanging on his every word. "I meant what I said earlier. You cannot be out alone in the corridors. You know what I expect of you."

Harry hung his head. Feelings of shame washing through him. "I know, I didn't mean to be, I just wasn't thinking. It won't happen again."

"I cannot accept that. This is too important. There will be a consequence if I am to discover you have failed in this regard again. I invariably have a stack of stubbornly dirty cauldrons that require attention."

Harry nodded miserably. He was feeling wrung out again- a feeling that was becoming increasingly familiar.

Snape produced a slip from his pocket, and handed it over. Harry glanced in over, it was a pass for Professor Sprout excusing his absence. He clutched it gratefully.

"I'm sure you can make your way from here," Snape said. "I'm watching, off you go."

Once the boy had disappeared inside Greenhouse 3, Severus spun on his heel and walked back into the Entrance Hall. He wasted no time following through on his... threat. He was seething. Had been seething since Potter had revealed to him what had been said by Lockhart.

He pounded on the door of the defense classroom, waiting barely on the cusp of what was considered customary before opening it without hesitation.

"Severus! What can I do for you?" Lockhart was sitting at his desk but stood at Snape's entrance.

He was satisfied to see the man looking on edge.

"I thought it would be prudent to inform you that Mr. Potter has been removed from your defense lessons indefinitely."

"Wha-, that can't be right," Lockhart almost laughed him off, but walked around to stand in front of his desk in a decidedly defensive stance.

"I can assure you, I am not mistaken. I, myself, have removed him. And he will continue his studies under my instruction going forward."

"Is that really necessary?"

Severus edged a step closer. Lockhart looked like he wanted to take a step back in reaction but the desk he was leaning on prevented just that.

"Do stop flaunting your stupidity, Gilderoy," he said nastily. "I know you take great pleasure in living within your delusions but I have a serving of reality for you."

"Severus- what- what is this about? I thought we were chums!"

"If you are that hopeless at reading a situation I simply cannot comprehend how you claim to be an expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts. A notoriously complex discipline."

"I'm not sure where this is coming from, honestly Severus- let's talk-,"

"I have no desire to speak with you longer than absolutely necessary. I am simply here to inform you to stay away from Potter. His removal from your lessons should make that perfectly simple for you."

"I think you've got the wrong end of the stick, Severus. Albus was not so absolute. He merely said-,"

"I do not care what Albus said to you, Gilderoy" Severus said cuttingly. "I am telling you now. Stay away from Potter."

"I am not sure your authority goes beyond that of the headmaster-,"

"The boy is under my purview by order of our esteemed headmaster, so yes, my authority in this situation is paramount."

"Well," Lockhart ran a hand through his perfectly quaffed golden hair, "I can see the boy has wormed his way into your affections," he said airily.

Severus was somewhat surprised to see the man's mask slipping, but largely gratified at the same time.

"I simply have a vested interest in protecting vulnerable children."

"Vulnerable," Lockhart scoffed. "That boy is not vulnerable. And I am no threat to him."

"I don't recall expressing any interest in your opinion," he said in a bored voice, unwilling to give anything away. "I am simply relaying you the facts. You are deluded enough to believe we are 'chums' now, there will be no question of my position if you cross me on this."

Lockhart raised his hands in surrender. "I hear you loud and clear, Severus."

"Excellent."

And without waiting a moment longer he turned on his heel and stalked out, slamming the door satisfactorily behind him.

Chapter Text

Harry arrived for his first practical Defense lesson full of nervous energy. This was going to be different to just sitting quietly and reading his textbook in the presence of his teacher. This would be actual teaching. He hoped, anyway. So he couldn't help but worry that Snape would fall back on his usual habit of insulting his intelligence at every turn when in a classroom setting.

When Snape opened his office door, Harry mumbled a greeting.

"Follow me, Mr. Potter," was all Snape said in response, leading him down the corridor and away from the dungeons.

Harry's curiosity peaked. He hadn't considered the fact that they wouldn't be practising spell-work in Snape's office. But it made sense now he thought about it. The space was cramped and full of all kinds of specimen jars that would probably explode in a shower of something gross or possibly hazardous if hit with a stray spell.

Snape ushered him into a dusty, unused classroom. The desks were already pushed to the side as if someone else had also needed the space for practicing practical magic.

"Stand in the middle of the room, Potter. Keep your wand away."

Harry hesitated for a millisecond before he complied. He turned around so he was facing his teacher again, waiting for his next instruction.

"Close your eyes."

Again, Harry hesitated. But for quite a bit longer this time.

"Now, please," Snape said, although softly. Harry could sense a challenge in his voice.

He took a deep breath in, and closed his eyes. Squeezed them shut really, so he wouldn't be tempted to peek. He heard as his Professor began pacing in a wide circle around him, his shoes tapping rhythmically against the stone floor.

"In Defense, you must not only be aware of your surroundings but completely certain of them at all times." The footsteps stopped.

Harry nodded along, even though he wasn't precisely certain of where this was going.

"You must-," Harry's eyes flew open and he flinched, as those words were practically spoken directly into his ear, "close your eyes," Snape repeated, from his spot right next to Harry.

When he did as instructed, Snape began again. "You must hone your senses to their fullest extent and you must attune yourself to rely on and react to them without conscious thought."

"I don't- I don't get what you mean, sir," Harry said, raising a hand to chew anxiously on a thumbnail, but keeping his eyes obediently closed.

"The key to Defense is discipline," Snape plowed on despite Harry's interruption. "Your mind and body must work in harmony." Harry felt a tug on his wrist and he obeyed the unspoken command and pulled his thumb out of his mouth. He felt as the air changed when his teacher stepped away again.

"The Dark Arts are infinite and ever-changing. There is no single solution to mastering their undoing."

Now Harry had lost his professor's position again. He couldn't focus on his words and location at the same time when he was being so cryptic.

"I can only teach you so much, it will be up to you to practise the relevant skills and techniques that will ensure you excel in this subject. You will need to be perceptive and inventive. Agile and flexible. Totally in control. Disciplined."

Harry huffed impatiently. This was starting to sound as complex as Snape had initially promised.

"Open your eyes, Potter."

He did, squinting slightly as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the light.

He scanned the room, fully twisting around, but his professor was nowhere in sight.

"Sir?" Harry questioned, feeling foolish at addressing the empty room.

Snape stepped back into view as if he'd been there all along. "For as long as I have known you, Mr. Potter, your discipline has been severely lacking. It is my objective to rectify that. And thus, assist you in thriving in Defense."

Harry didn't like where this was heading. "I have discipline," he mumbled.

"We shall see, won't we. Now take your wand out."

And so began Harry's first ever proper Defense lesson. He didn't count a single time with Lockhart as an actual lesson and Quirrell had been hopeless in his own way.

But Snape practically brimmed with knowledge, Harry could feel it. They practised the incantation and wand movement for the disarming charm Harry had seen in his textbook, his teacher critiquing his movement down to every tiny angle and flourish and refusing to let him try the two of them together before they were both individually perfect.

When Snape pronounced him ready, he stepped away so they were facing each other across the room. "Right, do your worst, Mr. Potter." He held his wand out loosely in front of him.

"You want me to aim at you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Certainly. I assure you I can handle it."

Harry sniggered, but took up his position and held his wand out in front of him.

He suddenly felt self-conscious as Snape's keen eyes focused completely on him and he felt the weight of performing under pressure.

He flicked his wand, "expelliarmus!"

Nothing happened. Snape's wand didn't so much as twitch in his hand. Harry frowned, he was sure he'd done everything right.

"You must pour your intention into the spell. Intention is essential."

"I thought discipline was essential," Harry muttered, feeling the first frisson of frustration.

"Discipline is the key," Snape reiterated. "Try again."

He did. And a third time. And yet still nothing happened.

"Why isn't it working?" he said impatiently. "I'm doing everything right!"

"On the contrary, if you were doing everything right it would have worked," Snape said mildly.

Harry flushed. "So what is it? What am I doing wrong?"

"I cannot always tell you that, Potter. I am not privy to the inner workings of your brain."

Harry threw his hands up, fully frustrated now. "That's never stopped you before." The words were out of his mouth before he could catch them.

"Pardon?" Snape said icily.

"Nothing. I didn't- I just meant-," Harry visibly deflated. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know why I said that. I think. I think I just have it in my head that you're gonna be like how you used to be, rather than how we are now. I just mean that I'm still getting used to this different version of you where you don't pick on me for no reason."

"Very articulate, Mr. Potter. Let us continue."

Harry was surprised at how quickly Snape had let that go. But he wasn't going to question it.

A few more failed attempts and Harry was beginning to feel like it would never happen. It was just too hard, the magic was too stubborn.

"If it is not your intention that is lacking then perhaps you need to focus on your belief. You need to believe you are capable of disarming me. Visualise it. No," he stopped Harry as he began to raise his wand. "Purely visualise it first, in your mind. Close your eyes."

A few seconds passed and he opened his eyes once more, a determined look on his face.

Snape nodded. "Again."

Harry took his stance, and it was almost like something physically clicked within him. He knew it was going to work this time.

"Expelliarmus," he yelled, and a bright red jet erupted out of his wand. Snape's wand came flying towards him and he plucked it easily out of the air.

"Very good," Snape said, and Harry flushed at the praise that his teacher was so often ungenerous with. In fact he could count on one hand the number of compliments he'd managed to extract from him.

"I just knew it was going to work that time," Harry explained. "I could feel it."

Snape stepped forward and held out his hand and Harry relinquished his wand. "Let's try again. To ensure you've really got it."

And just as he knew it would, Snape's wand once again came flying towards him. "Awesome," Harry pronounced.

"Quite," Snape agreed.

"You're good at this, sir. Teaching Defense." Harry once again handed his wand back over.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Potter."

"I mean it! You're loads better than Professor Lockhart."

"Suddenly your compliment doesn't mean quite so much," Snape said wryly.

Harry giggled. He loved when Snape took a dig at Lockhart.

"That is enough practical for today, I should think," Snape said. "We shall retire back to my office where you can start on the next chapter, learning to block the spell you have just mastered."

"Oh yeah, I was gonna ask," Harry began, as he settled into step beside his teacher. "Is it okay if Hermione reads my book too? She said it's not in the library but she really wants to read it but I said I'd ask you first."

"I have no objection," Snape commented. "As long as you relay my condition that no practical magic is to be attempted without adult supervision."

"Yeah, of course. I'll tell her. Although there's probably no need to, you know what she's like. She wouldn't dream of it."

"You on the other hand?" Snape questioned, a hint of humour in his voice.

"I said I wouldn't either! I'm just saying of course she won't. I might just have... forgotten if you hadn't said anything, that's all. Hermione doesn't forget anything. Especially not school rules."

"A positive influence on you, perhaps?"

"Sure," Harry allowed. "Although I'll never be quite on her level. It must be exhausting being Hermione."

"What do you mean by that?"

Harry was surprised his teacher was so interested. "Just that she's always working. Always studying. Always getting ahead."

"That is not such a bad thing."

"It is when you never take a break. I think it's because she feels like she has something to prove. Because she's muggleborn."

"An astute observation."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know for sure, just what it seems like to me. I don't think she has anything to prove."

Snape said nothing, just ushered Harry into his office where they took up their usual places opposite each other.

Harry finished the next chapter just in time before he had to scamper off to find his classmates again.

"I will see you in the hospital wing directly after dinner, Mr. Potter," Snape said.

"Yep," Harry said, with feigned enthusiasm. He was trying to disprove Snape's theory that he was always uncooperative about going to the infirmary. "Thanks for today, Professor. See you later." And with a small wave and a smile he was gone.

Snape struggled to return straight to his marking after the boy's departure.

He was feeling an unwelcome pang of longing for his long lost friend.

For everyone had always commented on how the boy had his mother's eyes. And that was hard to argue with. The emerald green shade was undeniably shared between mother and son.

But it was widely considered that the rest of Harry Potter was fairly indistinguishable from his father.

But that wasn't quite true.

He'd never realised he'd also inherited his mother's smile.

For it had simply never been directed at him before.

***

"So how was it?" Hermione demanded as soon as Harry had caught up with them.

"You know what? He's actually a good teacher," Harry admitted. "Loads better than we've had before. I think he just hates teaching Potions. Maybe because we're all so crap at it."

"Speak for yourself," Hermione huffed.

"But I actually managed to disarm him. I mean- he probably wasn't trying to stop me, but still. He seemed impressed that I could do it at all."

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I'm actually jealous of your extra lessons with Snape," Ron grumbled. "Would you like to know what we did with Lockhart?"

"Tell me."

"He spent the first half of the lesson redoing the speech he gave for the latest Witch Weekly's Most Charming Whatever Award that he won.

"Most Charming Smile Award," Hermione supplied.

"Yeah like I said, whatever. And then the last half he got us to pair up and pretend to interview each other as if we were the winners. Seems to think we need interview practise. Like literally what has that got to do with Defense!? Absolutely nothing."

Harry couldn't help but giggle, but at Ron's glare, he tried his best to stifle it.

"It's not funny! It's a complete joke. The man's a moron. Dumbledore has lost his marbles letting him teach here."

"Wait! But you didn't tell him the other thing he said?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Harry was immediately on high alert. All traces of laughter gone.

"Oh! Don't worry, it's nothing about you." Ron had caught onto this alarm. "He said he wants to start a dueling club. Why he can't just teach us about it in lessons I have no idea. But he said later in the term he'll start one."

"A dueling club?" Harry repeated. "What does he know about dueling?"

"Probably very little," Hermione said primly. "I have a feeling he just wants an audience to put on a performance in front of."

"But he'll actually have to be good or it'll be really embarrassing for him," Harry pointed out.

"I honestly don't think he's thought that far ahead," Hermione shrugged.

"Well maybe I'll come along and watch, if it's a massive group. Stand at the back."

"Are you sure Snape will let you?" Ron teased. Harry just whacked him on the arm.

***

Harry was doing his best to appear cooperative and composed as he waited on his usual bed in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had been busy with another student when he'd arrived, he could hear them groaning continuously from across the room. So he'd just boosted himself up onto the mattress to wait.

Snape had arrived minutes later and had taken a seat just to the left of him. "Mr. Potter," he greeted.

"Hi, sir. Apparently Professor Lockhart is starting a dueling club," Harry blurted out as soon as he'd sat down, unable to keep this information to himself. He was curious to see what his teacher's reaction would be.

"Is he now?" Snape said in a supremely bored tone.

Harry hadn't seriously considered the fact that Snape might not let him go when Ron had brought it up. But now that Harry was trying to gauge the man's reaction he was having doubts.

"Yeah, that's what Ron and Hermione said anyway. I think later this term."

"Fascinating." His tone made it sound like anything but.

"I just thought-," he trailed off.

"You thought what, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I could go along. Just stay at the back. Just to watch."

Snape paused before he answered, appraising him carefully. "That is not a good idea," he finally said.

"But why not?" Harry wheedled.

"You have been instructed to steer clear of him. Showing up at his little club is hardly doing that."

"But loads of people will be there so he won't even see me!"

"The answer is no, Potter," Snape said in a hard tone. "Frankly I fail to see why you'd be interested at all. I have no more to say on the matter."

"Whatever," he muttered. He was saved from rebuke by the appearance of Madam Pomfrey, but he couldn't quite escape the customary scowl that Snape sent in his direction.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said spritely, almost like she could feel the tension and was attempting to diffuse it.

"Hi," Harry said weakly, the calm composure he'd constructed had taken a blow.

"Lie back for me, that's it."

Harry settled back against his pillows.

"As I understand it your glamour is no longer in place." Harry nodded. "That is excellent news and a positive indicator that you are heading in the right direction. I'll just do a quick scan."

He held perfectly still as she flicked her wand, he'd never been awake for this bit before, but there was no physical effect to whatever she was doing. A piece of parchment appeared in the air after a few moments and he watched as the medi-witch studied it for a moment.

"As expected, we're still seeing an upward trend. I wouldn't recommend we stop the nutrient potions just yet. Perhaps not until the end of term. But beyond that, as long as you maintain a healthy, balanced diet, I think they will be unnecessary. Very well done, Harry," she smiled warmly at him.

"Thanks," he said.

"Is there anything else we need to go over?" She looked between the two of them. "Any adverse effects from your last stay?"

Harry knew she was referring to his drunken visit. "Nope," he confirmed.

"Professor Snape?" she prompted.

"Nothing from me, Madam."

"Alright then, you're free to go."

Harry wasted no time jumping down from the bed. He threw a hasty goodbye at the two of them and was gone before either could say another word.

"Something the matter, Severus?" the medi-witch queried, as Snape got to his feet with a long-suffering sigh.

"Several things," he said.

"With Harry specifically, I meant. I sensed quite a bit of tension when I walked in."

"He is fine. Merely sulking after I told him he was not going to be allowed to attend Lockhart's dueling club."

A frown crossed the medi-witches' face. "You and I are in agreement there, Severus," she said cuttingly.

She had not displayed much of a reaction when Snape had brought Harry in after his tangle with Lockhart. Her patient had been the top priority when Snape had been explaining the situation that night. She had remained calm and professional in front of the boy. But he'd gotten the feeling that Professor Lockhart had made a staunch enemy that he wasn't yet aware of.

"I can't see Albus allowing it to go ahead anyway. Lockhart needs to focus on teaching in his actual lessons before he's given an opportunity to teach outside of them. Good evening, Poppy, I'll see myself out."

***

"Severus, so glad you could pop in. I won't keep you long. I have a proposition for you."

"I think I've had quite enough of your propositions, Headmaster," Snape said as he sat down tiredly in the ornate chair. He'd headed up to the Headmaster's office as soon as he'd received the summons, eager to get whatever he was needed for over with as soon as possible. He couldn't wait to unwind. A book, a roaring fire, a class of vermouth. He was practically salivating at the thought.

"Gilderoy has brought it to my attention that he would be keen to start a dueling club for the students. I was wondering if you would be willing to assist him in his endeavor."

Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Absolutely not."

"Now, Severus, you didn't even consider it!"

"There is nothing to consider. I will not help that buffoon with anything."

"What about as a personal favour to me?"

"Flitwick is the dueling champion- why not ask him?" Snape deflected.

"He asked for you personally, actually," Dumbledore revealed.

"How very touching," he sneered. "I'm not interested."

"Think it over at least?"

"Have you considered that you ask too much, Headmaster. I am already stretched to my limit. Beyond it already, perhaps."

"This will hardly be a substantial addition, my boy. You'll merely show up at the scheduled time. Gilderoy will take care of everything."

"We shall see about that," he muttered darkly.

"Excellent! Excellent! I will tell him you accept."

Snape just rolled his eyes. He knew this was one of those things that the Headmaster would not drop until he'd won him over.

He felt utterly exhausted by the prospect.

Chapter Text

As September blended into October, Harry fell into somewhat of a comfortable routine. Quidditch was going well, his Defense lessons with Snape were going well enough, as were their evening sessions. Madam Pomfrey had reduced his progress appointments to fortnightly, and he'd managed to completely avoid bumping into Lockhart for weeks by now.

But best of all, he hadn't heard the voice again.

Snape and Dumbledore still had no answers for him but for the time being, Harry didn't really care. It had been ages since the last time it had happened that he didn't even really worry about it anymore.

Life was almost boring. And Harry had never been so grateful.

That was until one evening, on his way back up from the dungeons, himself and Dobby had a run in with the friendly Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, who unintentionally set a sequence of unfortunate events into motion.

***

"So," Harry began the next morning as the trio sat down to breakfast. "How would you feel about skipping the Halloween feast with me?"

"What?" they both said in unison. "What for?" Hermione added.

"Nearly Headless Nick invited me to a party. Well, he called it a deathday party. Which sounds kind of depressing. But I already said I'd go. And he said I could bring you along if you wanted to come too."

"Oooh," Hermione enthused. "I've heard about those. I don't think it's very common for living people to attend, so it's quite the honour that you've been invited, Harry."

Harry shrugged.

"Will there be food?" Ron asked.

"I mean, I doubt it, ghosts don't actually eat do they. But we can swing by the feast afterwards," Harry assured him.

"Then sure, I'm in."

"Me too," Hermione said. "Have you asked Professor Snape?"

Harry scowled. "No. I don't need his permission for everything. I'm not breaking any school rules if you two are with me."

"I just think you should mention you won't be at the feast, that's all."

"We will be at the feast, remember? We'll just be a bit late. That's the only reason Ron has agreed to come along."

"Hey!" Ron protested immediately.

***

So a few days later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione broke away from the crowd streaming into the Great Hall, away from the enticing smells and inviting warmth and instead continued on into the dungeons.

The way leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, but there was no warm, golden glow produced by them. Only long shadows created by the cobwebs that had been strung along the walls and ceilings.

"This feels creepier than normal," Ron said as they descended deeper, pulling his robes more tightly around him.

"Look, there's Sir Nick," Hermione pointed ahead.

"Good evening," he said mournfully as they approached. "Welcome to my five hundredth deathday celebration." He drifted aside so the three of them could squeeze past him and through the doorway, where all three of them stopped in their tracks.

Harry had never seen a sight quite like it. There were hundreds of ghosts floating around the large dungeon room, seeming to mingle with each other. And through each other.

Harry only recognised a few of them.

"How did they all get here?" Harry whispered to the both of them. "They can't all live at Hogwarts. What's ghost travel like?"

"I have no idea," Ron said. "It's freezing in here. But look, there is food! Let's go over there."

The three of them edged around the room, careful not to walk through anyone, and towards a table that appeared laden with food.

"Oh my," Hermione exclaimed when they reached it. Ron just gaped, but quickly reconsidered and snapped his mouth shut and plugged his nose. Harry just stared.

There was food, Ron wasn't mistaken. But absolutely none of it was edible. Mouldy bread, rotting meat, and fruit that definitely looked to be moving due to the thousands of buys crawling all over it, had been laid out on great big silver platters.

"That is revolting," Ron announced. "What is the point?"

"Maybe they can smell it because it's so...strong?" Hermione suggested.

All of a sudden, a horrific screeching sound filled the air and all three of them clapped their hands to their ears. But around them, the ghosts flocked to the middle of the room and began to sway together.

"Is that...is that supposed to be music?" Ron shouted above the noise. "Are they...dancing?"

"I think so," said Hermione slowly. "Oh gosh, we have to move." Hermione began to push the two of them away from the table frantically. "It's Moaning Myrtle. She's coming this way."

"Who?"

"Moaning Myrtle," she repeated. "She haunts the girls' toilets on the first floor. She keeps having tantrums and flooding the whole bathroom, so no one really goes in there."

"She haunts the toilets?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"People say she died in there but I don't think that's true. But honestly she's awful, we can't get stuck talking to her, we'll never get away."

The three of them skirted around the dance floor to avoid the approaching ghost.

"I'm not sure how much longer I can stand this," Ron said once they were out of her line of sight. "This music is giving me a headache and I'm so cold."

"We have to stay a bit longer," Harry begged. "It would be rude to leave so quickly."

"Fine. But we're going straight to the feast when we leave. I'm starving and I can't let that rotting food ruin my appetite.

Harry attempted to make small talk with a group of ghost nuns that were huddled together but quickly found it quite difficult. What did you small talk with a ghost about?

A prod in the back some time later from Ron and Harry was excusing himself from the rather dry conversation.

"Shall we say goodbye to Nick?" Harry asked.

"Nah, he's right in the middle of the dance floor," Ron said, pointing him out. "Don't really feel like stepping through them all to say goodbye. Let's just go."

The three of them headed for the doorway, waving half heartedly at anyone they passed in a semblance of a goodbye.

They hurried back along the corridor, warmth seeping back into their bones the further they got away from the roomful of ghosts.

"Well that was an experience," Ron said. "Not sure it's one I want to repeat. I'm happy to keep that as a once in a lifetime sort of thing."

"Agreed," said Harry.

"It was interesting," Hermione tried. "But yes, perhaps not again."

"Well, we haven't been that long. I'm sure-," Harry broke off. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end. And he suddenly felt ice cold. A feeling that had nothing to do with the hundreds of ghosts they had just left behind.

"Oh god," he said weakly, as he stopped in his tracks.

Kill...blood...eat...

"Harry!"

His mind was somehow racing dizzyingly and entirely blank, both at once.

"HARRY!"

His brain connected forcibly with his body and he shuddered hard.

"We need to run," he said quickly. "Now."

He didn't wait for a response and took off running along the corridor. He couldn't tell why he wasn't experiencing his usual feelings of debilitating panic. He'd only felt the chilling awareness and then a burning need to find this voice once and for all.

He skidded into the Entrance Hall, he could swear it was getting louder, although the rumble of noise from the feast in the Great Hall was making it difficult to hear clearly.

"Harry, what on earth is happening?"

"SHH!" he hissed. "This way."

He raced up the marble staircase, he was sure the voice was getting stronger now. Louder than it had been in the dungeons as he tracked it along the corridor.

Smell...blood...

"C'mon!" Harry urged.

"Will you...tell...us what's going...on?" Hermione panted breathlessly from quite far behind him.

"You said we'd go straight to the feast!" Ron complained.

"Would you shut up and let me listen!"

"Listen to what!?"

Hungry...cold...

"They have to be around here somewhere," Harry said, looking around desperately. "It's so loud."

"Who is, Harry? What are you talking about? I can't hear anything! Ron, can you hear anything?"

"Nothing!"

"Should we get someone?" Hermione whispered frantically to Ron as they followed Harry further along the corridor, watching as he trailed his hand along the side of the stone wall as he went.

"Yeah maybe, I think he's actually lost it."

"Can we call Dobby to get Professor Snape?"

"Uhh, I'm not sure. Harry says it's easy for him, he just has to want him to appear when he says his name. But I'm not sure if that'll work for us."

"Only one way to find out," Hermione said in a determined voice, briefly halting their pursuit of Harry. "Dobby," she announced.

A soft crack, and the house elf appeared.

"Oh thank god," Hermione cried. "Dobby, will you please fetch Professor Snape for us? As quickly as you can. Harry needs him. We think he's hearing things."

"Certainly, miss." And he was gone.

"Come on," Ron pulled Hermione's sleeve to get her moving again. "We can't lose him."

They had momentarily lost sight of him as he'd turned a corner, but both breathed a sigh of relief as he immediately came into view as they turned the same corner.

Harry was standing stock still when they caught up with him.

"Harry, what the heck is going on?"

But Hermione's sharp intake of breath caused Ron to look away from their friend and follow the direction of her pointed finger.

"What is that?" Ron whispered. But no one answered him.

The three of them edged closer together.

In the light cast by the flickering torches, they could see a series of words written on the wall in blood red ink.

the chamber of secrets has been opened. enemies of the heir, beware

"How did you know that would be here, Harry?"

"I didn't," Harry choked.

"Is that-is that a cat? Hanging from the sconce? Is that Mrs Norris?" It was Hermione's voice that broke this time.

They edged closer still, unable to stop themselves.

"I think it is," Ron said miserably. "Is she..?" He trailed off. Unwilling to finish his question.

Another step forward and Harry slipped almost off his feet. Ron's quick grab saved him.

"What's all this?" Harry said, glancing down at the floor. A large puddle of water was forming around their feet, flowing freely down from the top of the corridor.

"We shouldn't be here," Ron said suddenly, grabbing hold of Harry and Hermione. "Let's go."

"Shouldn't we, I dunno, help or something?" Harry said, resisting Ron's tugging weakly.

"We can find a teacher at the feast."

"It might be nearly over by now," Hermione said softly.

She was proven right almost immediately, as all three of them were able to detect a soft rumble that signalled a large group of people were on their way towards them. The feast had ended. And the majority of students were on their way back to their common rooms, via this very popular corridor.

From both ends of the corridor the sounds of happy chatter and feet climbing stairs could be heard more clearly. It wouldn't be long before the corridor was filled with people.

But all of this cheerful noise died down and was replaced by complaints as they encountered the flooded corridor before falling to a hush as more and more students caught sight of the writing on the wall.

Furious whispers passed amongst the students as the trio stood alone in the centre of it all.

"What is the hold up?" came a grumpy voice. "Students are not allowed to block the corridors." Argus Filch came shouldering through the crowd to the front.

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "We're screwed."

"Is that- is that my cat?! Mrs Norris!" he yelled. "My sweet, what have they done to you?!" He whirled around and caught sight of the three of them, standing apart from the crowd.

"You! It was one of you! You killed my cat- you'll pay for this! All of you!" And to their horror, he began to stagger towards them, hatred written all over his face.

"Argus," Professor Dumbledore's voice boomed down the corridor, stopping the man in his tracks. The crowd parted immediately so Dumbledore could pass through, followed by a number of other teachers. Namely Professor Snape, who remained close by Dumbledore's side, but his eyes were fixed on Harry.

"That'll be all children," Dumbledore dismissed. "Prefects, escort your houses to their common rooms, if you will. And remain there until further instruction."

After a few sharp commands from the older students, the corridor began to empty out. Curious looks were shot their way and he could catch snippets of accusations directed at him. Harry had never felt so exposed.

Dumbledore swept past the trio and swiftly unhooked Mrs Norris from the sconce. "Follow me," he said, to the remaining few. That includes you three," he glanced in the direction of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"My office is closest, Headmaster. Please- allow me to lead the way," Professor Lockhart gestured for everyone to follow him.

Harry blanched. There was no way he was stepping foot in Lockhart's office.

"Thank you, Gilderoy."

But Ron tugged him along and Harry had no choice but to fall into step with everyone as they climbed another staircase and entered the Defense corridor. He didn't have the energy to fight.

"I will deal with Mr. Potter from here," Snape announced as the little group reached the classroom door that led to Lockhart's office.

"Very good," allowed Dumbledore at the same time as Argus Filch protested loudly. "He killed my cat! I want him brought to justice!"

"That's enough, Argus," Dumbledore said firmly. "I will catch up with you later, Severus."

Snape nodded and crooked his finger at Harry.

Harry obeyed immediately, stepping aside to stand beside his teacher, the two of them watching as the rest of the group filed into the classroom, Professor McGonagall ushering Hermione and Ron inside as they hesitated on the doorstep.

When the door was closed, Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for not making me go in there, sir."

"For fear of sounding like a broken record- you have a lot of explaining to do Mr. Potter."

Harry hung his head miserably.

"Let's go."

Harry had expected to be bundled into a disused classroom or frogmarched to the hospital wing but instead Snape led him to the next closest office, which happened to be Professor McGonagall's. With the knowledge that she was currently with the rest of the group in Lockhart's office, Snape forwent knocking on the door.

Now that he knew more of what to expect, Harry did not hesitate to grip tightly onto his teacher and hold on when they had both stepped into the roaring green flames of the floo.

The sickening spinning feeling was just as bad as the first time so Harry could safely conclude that being drunk hadn't made the experience any worse.

He once again landed hard on his knees, but this time he was able to right himself onto his feet immediately. He bent down to brush the sting out of his knees.

"Go and sit down," Snape instructed, as he swept out of view down the corridor off the living room without waiting to see if his command was followed.

But still Harry obeyed, he was more than happy to flop down on the sofa, his head lolling back immediately. He hadn't been back in Snape's quarters since the first two times over a month ago so he was curious what had prompted Snape to bring him here this time.

Snape returned, potion vial in hand. He placed it on the table between them and settled into the armchair opposite.

"I swear I didn't touch Mrs. Norris," Harry blurted out. "It wasn't me. It wasn't any of us. I promise."

Snape held up a hand to halt his protestations. "It is your choice if you take this calming draft now or not," he began. "But if you become overly agitated during our discussion I will have to insist upon it. Am I understood?"

"Sure."

"I am ready to hear what you have to say, Potter. Spare no detail."

Harry gulped. Now he wasn't sure where to begin. Everything has happened so fast- it felt like a dream- or a nightmare. Yeah that was better. It was definitely more like a nightmare.

"How about you start with the reason you were not present at the feast," Snape prompted, interrupting his spiralling.

"We were gonna go!" Harry insisted.

"Potter," Snape growled.

"We were at a deathday party."

"A deathday party?"

"Yeah. Is that so strange?"

"It is not common for the living to be present at the celebration of a ghost's deathday, no."

Harry shrugged. "Well, Sir Nick invited me. And I said I would go. It would have been rude not to show up."

"And you didn't inform me of this for what reason?"

"Because I didn't think I had to," Harry muttered, a touch of sullenness in his tone.

"Not good enough," Snape said, his voice hard. "You know full well I would have expected to see you at the feast and you should have informed me of any deviation from that."

"Well, like I said we were gonna go. We were on our way actually. But then I heard uh, I heard the voice again."

Harry watched closely for Snape's reaction. But he gave very little away as usual.

"The elf mentioned as much. Where were you when you heard it?"

"You saw Dobby?"

"Answer the question, Potter."

"Still in the dungeons," he admitted.

"So how did you end up in the first floor corridor?" Snape asked.

"I uh, I followed it. And it led me there."

"You followed it." Snape repeated flatly.

"Yeah, I know how dumb that sounds now," Harry relented. "But at the time I just felt like I had to do it. I didn't freeze like I normally do the other times I've heard it. So I thought maybe I could be useful and f-follow it this time."

A long silence reigned before Snape prompted him to continue. "Go on."

"Well there's nothing much else. I followed it along to that corridor. I could swear it was getting louder. But then I saw the writing on the wall and then spotted Mrs. Norris right after. Then pretty much straight away Ron said we should leave and find a teacher before we got found there. But then it was too late."

When Harry had finished his recollection he watched as Snape leant back in his armchair. He knew he was in for it. He felt so monumentally stupid.

"I have been perfectly clear on what I expect from you whenever this situation arises." Snape's voice was ice cold. Harry hadn't seen him this angry in a long time and he shivered. "You send for me or another teacher immediately. You have no idea what sort of danger you could have been running into."

Harry bit his lip, not able to meet his teacher's steely gaze. "Well, like you said, Dobby did come for you," he tried weakly. "Ron and Hermione must have sent for him."

"By then it was too late and the rest of the school were already swarming the corridors making it exceedingly difficult to locate you quickly."

"I'm sorry," Harry's voice had dropped to a whisper. He hadn't felt Snape's anger directed at him in a long time. "Is Mrs. Norris going to be okay?"

"I do not know," he said tightly. "I am certain the Headmaster has the situation under control."

"The writing on the wall-was it- I mean- do you think it was b-blood?"

"As I have not closely inspected it, I couldn't say."

Harry gulped. "Everyone's gonna think it was me. I don't even know what the chamber of secrets is. I've never even heard of it."

"If you're angling for information from me you will be sorely disappointed."

"I wasn't!" Well maybe he had been a little bit. But he didn't dare ask outright when his teacher was so evidently furious with him.

"Hmm," Snape mused.

"What happens now then?" Harry questioned carefully, expecting a long list of punishments to be coming his way.

"We sit tight until the Headmaster stops by."

"Oh." That wasn't what he'd been expecting. Snape hadn't even really yelled at him yet. "Can't I go back to the Tower?" he pressed, feeling emboldened now that Snape didn't seem to be gearing up to dish out his punishment.

"Certainly not."

"But the longer I stay away the more people will think I did have something to do with it!" Harry said desperately.

"I'm in no mood to argue with you, Potter. You're staying put," he said firmly.

Harry's stomach took that opportunity to make itself known, gargling unhappily with hunger. It was probably good timing, as the feeling had distracted him from making a retort that would most likely have gotten him into even more trouble.

"Some dinner perhaps?" Snape asked, a touch snidely.

"Uh, yeah. Yes please, I mean. Something small is fine."

"Something small does not constitute dinner." Snape got to his feet and threw some floo powder into the fireplace before he stuck his head into the flames. "Go and sit up," he gestured to the table just inside the connected kitchenette when his head reappeared. "You'll not eat your dinner on my sofa like a heathen."

Before he could even reach the table, he watched as a steaming bowl of spaghetti bolognese, accompanied by a goblet, shimmered into view.

He reached for the goblet first and took a swig. Orange juice. The sweet, sugary liquid tasted heavenly. He hadn't realised how thirsty he was. Or how desperate his body had been for a sugar hit. But Snape obviously had.

A knock sounded a few moments later and Harry jumped at the unexpected interruption, almost upsetting his goblet of juice.

"Keep eating," Snape instructed, as he got smoothly to his feet and stepped towards the door.

Albus Dumbledore had arrived.

Chapter Text

"Come in, Albus," Severus stepped out of the way so the headmaster could walk over the threshold.

Harry twisted around in his seat so he could see.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Dumbledore said serenely.

"You'll have to excuse Potter for the moment, he is currently finishing his dinner," Snape said pointedly, and Harry got the hint and turned back to his bowl.

"Not to worry, not to worry. Shall we leave Harry to finish in peace?"

Harry frowned. He knew what that meant. The adults wanted a private conversation without him and he wasn't happy about that. Not happy about it at all.

"I'm all done," he announced, pushing his bowl away and wiping at his mouth with his sleeve.

"That can't possibly be true," Snape said. "It was only served to you three minutes ago."

"Yeah, well," Harry shrugged. "I don't even really like spaghetti bolognese."

"I know that also to be untrue, I have seen you choose it for yourself on a number of occasions in the Great Hall."

"Well-,"

"Save it, Potter. The headmaster and I will return in a few minutes. Eat your dinner in the meantime, or don't, it is your choice."

"But-,"

"This way, Headmaster," Snape said, ignoring Harry's continued attempts to argue, gesturing for Dumbledore to follow him down the same corridor they had disappeared down the last time.

"So how is young Harry coping after the events of this evening, Severus?" Dumbledore asked once they were alone, ensconced in Snape's study.

"Well enough to continue to argue with me at every turn, apparently," Snape muttered.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"But in all seriousness, I am not sure he has fully processed the complete implication of what he has witnessed. So I will be keeping an exceedingly close eye on him over the weekend."

"I imagine that will take some time," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Something I am sure you will continue to guide him through."

Snape shook his head. "That foolish, harebrained, child followed a seemingly disembodied voice that we know is threatening harm and probably much worse. He followed it. Without a second thought. I am beginning to think that keeping him safe is an impossible task." He ran a hand through his lanky hair in exasperation. "I have said in jest in the past that the boy requires twenty four hour supervision. I am not sure I can claim it to be in jest any longer. He does not possess an ounce of self-preservation. No one has taught him to be concerned for himself. It is almost as though he does not consider that his life might be worth preserving. Although he may not see it that way, that is the outcome of his repeated actions."

Dumbledore sat quietly as Snape ranted, only speaking when it was clear he was finished. "I am sure you will do your utmost to dissuade him of that notion."

"I could lecture him until I am blue in the face and he would still throw himself head first into danger given the opportunity."

"He is certainly not going to adjust overnight. These things take time."

"Time is a luxury we do not have, it seems," Snape said wearily. "What happened this evening, Albus?"

"I cannot say for certain at this time. I am aware how frustrating that is. For you as well as for Harry."

"Who could have done this? I do not believe for a moment that it was Potter. For a myriad of reasons."

"I am afraid I could not even hazard a guess. But we are in agreement about Harry. There is exceedingly complicated magic at play. Dark Magic, I can only imagine. Mrs. Norris is not dead, she is merely petrified. Pomona has Mandrakes that are nearing maturity. As soon as they are ready, I could use your assistance in brewing a Restorative Draft."

Snape nodded his agreement without hesitation. "And the writing on the wall?"

"It is blood I am afraid. But I have determined it is not human."

"Thank Merlin for small mercies," Snape murmured.

"Its message is considerably more troubling."

"I have only ever known the chamber to be a legend," Snape admitted. "Is it possible it does in fact exist?"

"I am certainly not going to exclude the possibility. This castle has never stopped surprising me."

"I am expecting my House to be closely implicated with this incident," Snape sighed heavily. "When combined with the legend of the chamber 'the heir' can only be referring to the heir of Slytherin."

"I think your interpretation is sound, Severus."

"We need to solve this. And quickly. What more can we be doing?"

"I have not yet exhausted all avenues at my disposal."

"As cryptic as ever. I am not sure Potter will accept that as readily as I am willing to."

"Speaking of- we should probably not keep Harry waiting any longer. I would like to hear his version of events if you think he is up to it?"

"Certainly."

Harry was busy seething. He hated the feeling that he was being discussed and made to sit out of the conversation like a child.

But you are a child, his brain helpfully supplied.

He had briefly considered seeing if it was possible to eavesdrop through whichever door they'd disappeared behind but he quickly dismissed the idea. He wasn't sure he could take the bollocking when he was inevitably caught. So instead he decided he'd take a closer look around his teacher's living room, he didn't know when he'd next get the opportunity to. He'd inspected the books that were crammed onto sagging bookshelves. There were some interesting titles- Magick Moste Evile had been the most tempting to open, but he didn't dare even touch it, he knew better than that. He'd investigated all the knick-knacks that were on top of the fireplace but the only thing that had caught his attention there had been a photo of a young woman whom Harry didn't recognise.

As soon as he heard the teachers approaching he scrambled to throw himself onto the sofa, doing his best to appear like he'd been waiting there all along.

"Thank you for waiting so patiently, Harry," Dumbledore smiled as he sat down opposite Harry, although his eyes twinkled as though he knew the truth. Snape rolled his eyes and glanced over at Harry's unfinished dinner.

Harry grimaced at Snape's look of disapproval. Maybe he should have finished that.

"Would you mind telling me your version of what happened this evening, Harry?"

"Sure. But can I just ask if Mrs. Norris is okay first?"

"She will be," Dumbledore assured.

Harry bit his lip. "And you don't- you don't think I did it, do you?"

"No, Harry. We don't."

"Okay," he let out a deep breath.

Harry's retelling didn't take long- there wasn't much to share.

He was glad Dumbledore didn't reprimand him the same way Snape had when he got to the part about him following the voice. He didn't react at all really- Harry had a sneaking suspicion Snape had already mentioned it.

"Thank you for your time this evening, Harry," Dumbledore said when he'd finished. "I am sure you have plenty of questions but I'm afraid at this time I do not have many answers for you. But we both will try our best to keep you informed as and when we have the information. But for now I will leave the two of you to your evening. I'm sure you have more to discuss.

"We do," Snape said ominously. Harry did not like the sound of that.

"Do not hesitate to contact me, either of you, if you have need." Harry smiled weakly in response.

Snape walked the headmaster to the door, closing it softly behind him.

Harry sprawled out on the sofa as soon as they were alone, although he made sure to keep his shoes dangling off the edge. He closed his eyes. He wasn't particularly tired- in fact he felt wide awake. But maybe he could get out of another of Snape's lectures by pretending to fall asleep.

"You are not falling asleep here, Mr. Potter."

Damn. "Why not?" he complained, refusing to open his eyes.

"Because my sofa is not your bed and my living room is not your dormitory. Now, seeing as you didn't care to finish your dinner-"

"You said I didn't have to!" Harry protested, pushing himself up to better glare at this teacher. All traces of feigning sleepiness gone.

"I said it was your choice. You are well aware of the consequences of that choice."

Harry groaned. "I'll finish it now."

"Do. I'll warm it up."

"So what else do we have to talk about? Is it something Dumbledore said?" Harry asked as he retook his seat at the kitchen table.

"Professor Dumbledore," Snape stressed. "And not as such."

Harry wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

With a freshly steaming bowl of spaghetti in front of him, Harry said no more until he'd polished it off. Snape had taken a seat opposite him and watched on with a raised eyebrow.

Harry flushed slightly. He had been hungry. He'd just not felt like eating. Those two things could be true at the same time, right?

"So did you and Dumbledore have a good conversation about me?" he said, attempting to deflect his teacher's attention.

"I am not going to remind you again to use the headmaster's honorific," Snape warned, leaning forward.

"Sorry," Harry said immediately, instinctively leaning back in response.

"I know you have had a trying evening. But the headmaster commands your respect."

"I know, I'm sorry, I won't forget again."

"Would you prefer it if we were to continue this conversation tomorrow?"

"I thought you said you had things to say to me?"

"That I do. However, I would prefer you to be conscious and attentive for that discussion so it can wait until after you have slept and are feeling more rested. The choice is yours."

Harry thought hard for a second. It was tempting to postpone the lecture he was about to receive. And less than twenty minutes ago he would have given anything to be back in his common room. But now that he actually thought about it the doubt was starting to creep in. He didn't know what sort of reception he was going to receive from his fellow Gryffindors. Would they think he'd actually tried to kill Mrs. Norris? Or have written those words on the wall? Because if they did then he'd prefer to stay away for as long as possible.

"It's okay, I think now is fine," he said eventually, grateful that Snape had allowed him to think it through without interruption.

Snape observed him closely before nodding tightly and getting to his feet, gesturing that they should return to the living room.

Even when they were both situated comfortably, Snape didn't speak straight away. The silence was prickling at Harry's neck and he felt like he just had to break it.

"Did you know my parents died on Halloween?" Where had that come from?

Something changed in Snape's expression at his question, but Harry couldn't quite put his finger on what.

"Yes, Potter. I knew that," was his solemn reply. "Would you like to discuss that?"

"I think that's kind of why I didn't feel like going to the feast," he mumbled.

"Had you informed me of your reservations we could have found alternative arrangements that did not involve a deathday celebration. I can't imagine that was a pleasant experience."

"Yeah, you're right," Harry admitted. "It was horrible actually. All the food was rotten and the room was freezing. And the music was actually painful to listen to."

"If you had informed me of your plan I would have been able to dissuade you."

"I'm not sure, sir. Even if you told me it would be horrible I would still have gone. I promised Nick I'd go."

"This is exactly what I wish to discuss with you, Potter."

"Nick's party?"

"No, your lack of self-preservation."

"I have self-preservation," he argued.

"Name me a single instance where you have chosen to keep yourself safe in a dangerous situation rather than putting yourself in harm's way."

Harry thought hard but nothing was forthcoming. "Just because I can't think of one right now doesn't mean there aren't any."

"True. However, I can name quite a number of instances to the contrary off the cuff. Following that voice for one. Admitting that you would have attended a deathday party even if you were informed beforehand what an unpleasant experience it would be, badgering me to allow you to attend Professor Lockhart's dueling club-"

Harry squirmed. "Okay, okay, I get your point."

"Oh, I'm not finished yet, Potter. Do you recall the time I had to flush a preservative potion out of cuts in your hand because you thought it better to pick up broken glass rather than inform me of your accident? Not to mention the way you fight me every time you need to visit the hospital wing. And shall we discuss the foolish stunt you pulled at the end of last year?"

"Please stop," Harry said quietly. And to his surprise, Snape did.

He opened his mouth to say more, but it had gone so dry that he found he couldn't speak.

Proving how perceptive he was, Snape conjured him a glass of water and leaned forward to hand it to him.

Harry took it and sipped gratefully, the cool water in his mouth feeling just as good as the cold glass did against his sweaty palms.

"My intention is not to critique you. Or make you feel shame. But I need you to recognise that your actions of late often follow a pattern where your safety is threatened."

"I don't mean to do that."

"But it is the choices that you are making that are leading us to these situations, Potter. So to some extent, you do mean it."

Harry slumped further into himself. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I don't want you to say anything. What I want is for you to realise that your life is worth preserving. And for you, that means taking a proactive role in avoiding dangerous situations. Thinking before you act. Seeking help when you are out of your depth. I am not sure how to adequately impress upon you the danger you put yourself in tonight."

"I mean- I realise it now. I just thought maybe I could help."

"Think it through, Potter. What would you have done, had you come face to face with whoever this voice belongs to?"

"I know what you're trying to get me to say. That I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"Precisely," Snape ignored his flippant comment. "If you had thought it through for a second you would have realised what a foolish idea it was. It is encouraging that you are able to see in hindsight what an irrational decision you made but next time you may not be so fortunate as to have the opportunity to experience hindsight."

"I get it."

"I certainly hope so. The headmaster is doing everything within his power to solve this situation, Potter. I can understand your impatience but I cannot allow you to become involved in its solution. You must continue to report any encounters with this voice immediately but your involvement begins and ends there. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"I mean it. I do not want to be having this conversation again."

Harry nodded. He was feeling a bit unnerved. No one had ever lectured him about his safety as much as Snape did. And even just a few months ago the very idea would have seemed ludicrous. He'd always just fended for himself and luckily scraped through. But maybe Snape was right and his luck would eventually run out.

"I promise. It won't happen again."

Snape seemed to accept this because he moved on. "For your transgressions this evening, you will be spending your weekend with me in the lab, Mr. Potter. I have a number of menial tasks that need seeing to."

Harry groaned. He'd promised Oliver he'd spend as much time as possible flying this weekend in preparation for their upcoming match against Slytherin next week.

Snape raised an eyebrow, challenging Harry to protest further. But he knew there was no point appealing to Snape to change his mind, he had no sympathy when it came to Harry and Quidditch.

"What time?" Harry asked with trepidation.

"7:30 will do. Report to my classroom directly after breakfast."

Harry just grimaced. Of course Snape didn't respect the Saturday lie in.

"Considering the hour at which you will have to be up tomorrow morning, I will escort you to the Tower now. Up you get."

"What seems to be the problem, Potter?"

Snape could sense the boy's growing reluctance the closer they got to Gryffindor Tower.

"Nothing," Harry said, hurrying to get back into step with his teacher so he couldn't be accused of dawdling.

"Are you still concerned your fellow Gryffindors will ostracise you?" Snape said, without slowing his stride.

"If that means am I worried they'll blame me for what happened, then yeah. I'm still concerned."

Harry's tone caused Snape to stop and spin around, so suddenly that Harry almost collided with him. "Hey! A little warning," he complained, as he took a step back so he wasn't treading on his teacher's toes.

"Anyone with a functioning brain would not think for one second you had anything to do with this, Potter."

"Right," Harry said, unconvinced.

"If anyone gives you any trouble, your prefects are on hand to deal with them. I am certain they will have been briefed by Professor McGonagall by now. You have nothing to fear from your housemates."

That did actually make him feel a bit better. Knowing the older years would have his back if anyone tried to suggest he was to blame.

"Okay, yeah, if you're sure."

"Don't make me repeat myself, Potter," Snape sighed, but Harry could tell he wasn't actually annoyed because of his next comment. "There's only so many times I'm willing to admit that Gryffindors have functioning brains."

Harry snickered and the two of them continued walking until they reached the portrait hole.

"I will see you in the morning, Mr. Potter." Snape said in farewell.

"Goodnight, sir."

Chapter Text

At the crack of dawn the next morning, Harry dragged himself from his warm cocoon of blankets and stumbled blearily towards the Great Hall. Dobby chatted away animatedly on their route, Harry barely needing to interject for the house-elf to maintain a conversation.

After a hurried shovelling of porridge, the two were together again, this time heading towards the dungeons and Harry's weekend of punishment.

Snape promptly set Harry up at the sink with a stack of dirty cauldrons and for a while the only sounds were the harsh scrape of the bristles of the scrubbing brush against pewter and the scratching of Snape's quill.

But it wasn't long before Harry could not stand the silence any longer and he cleared his throat meaningfully.

There was no reaction from his professor. So he tried again.

"Did you need something, Mr. Potter, or is there simply something stuck in your throat and you require a glass of water to dislodge it?" Snape hadn't even lifted his head from whatever it was he was working on.

"I was just, uh, wondering if there was an update on Mrs. Norris?"

"Not at this time, no. I haven't spoken with the headmaster since he departed last night. So I have no further information for you."

"Oh. Okay." Harry resumed his scrubbing for a moment, focusing intently on a particularly stubborn stain.

"Did they find whoever wrote that message on the wall?" he piped up again.

"As I've said, I have not spoken with the headmaster," came Snape's curt reply.

"Right." A bit more scrubbing. "Is Malfoy going to be playing in the match next weekend? Only I heard a rumour he was going to but now he's off the team after- y'know. Everything that happened."

Finally, Snape set down his quill to give Harry his full attention. "Mr. Potter, I have set you a task. A punishment for your reckless behaviour last night. Now is not the time for chit-chat."

"Just say yes or no?" Harry wheedled.

"Potter, you will not be playing in your precious match next weekend if you continue to test me."

"You're just saying that, you wouldn't actually do that."

"What I think is that you don't want to find out. Carry on. Now."

"Alright, alright. I just thought we could talk whilst I do this. It's pretty boring, y'know."

"It's not meant to be enjoyable. It is a punishment."

"Uhuh."

Snape raised an arched eyebrow. "I'm not sure where this flippant attitude has materialised from, Mr. Potter, but I would recommend you lose it immediately."

Harry finally took the hint and kept his mouth shut. He liked knowing he could needle his professor a little and get away with it. To some extent anyway.

After the cauldrons were cleaned according to the Potions Master's exacting standards, Harry was redirected to sorting out his least favourite Potions ingredient- flobberworms. A new delivery had arrived and as it was common for a few to turn bad during transit, any that had begun to rot needed removing from the batch before they infected the rest.

He tried to breathe through his mouth as he picked through the containers with a pair of long tweezers, but even the healthy ones smelled pungent enough that it was impossible to avoid the putrid smell entirely.

He was released around midday to join his peers for lunch with strict instructions to return in an hour along with his school books.

"Run out of gruesome things for me to do already?" Harry teased as he cracked open his History of Magic textbook.

"Certainly not. But I will not be held responsible for any rushed and sloppy assignments being handed in."

"They're never rushed or sloppy," Harry scoffed. Well maybe they were. A little bit. Sometimes.

"As someone who is in the enviable position of marking your assignments, I beg to differ."

Harry flushed. "Yeah well, sorry I haven't been using a quill all my life so my handwriting is a bit messy."

"I can provide you with some calligraphy exercises if you think they would be beneficial."

"No, no, it's fine. I'll just go uh, go a bit slower." The last thing he needed was extra work to do.

"Hm." Snape let it drop, but Harry had a feeling he was going to be extra critical of his handwriting from now on so when he moved onto his Potions essay he made sure to take extra care over it.

He was amazed at how much he got through, but he really shouldn't have been. The Potions classroom was free from all the distractions that he usually battled with in the Gryffindor common room, namely Ron begging him to do literally anything else apart from their homework.

It also helped to be sat opposite a human encyclopedia whenever he got stuck or needed something clarifying. Snape was surprisingly forthcoming whenever Harry posed a question- he never just gave him the answer though, but he effectively guided him to find it himself.

"Thanks for helping me with my work, sir" Harry said, as he was packing up after Snape had dismissed him for the evening.

"It's almost like it's my job to teach you," Snape replied mildly.

Harry snickered. "Yeah, but it's the weekend, sir."

"My job is around the clock, Potter. That includes the weekend. Now, I will see you tomorrow, you may come down an hour later."

***

The following day followed much the same structure. Even with his generous hour lie-in, he still had to scarf down a quick breakfast before hurrying down to the dungeons again. He was set up with another stack of filthy cauldrons in the morning, before being released for lunch and returning in the afternoon to continue with his homework.

It was late into the afternoon when Snape interrupted his concentration. "Pack up your things, Potter. But I'd like a word before you go."

"One sec," Harry said, as he finished scratching the last sentence of his Transfiguration conclusion. "Done!" he announced, beaming up at his teacher. "This isn't even due until Wednesday."

"I assume you are unaccustomed to completing assignments ahead of the night before they are due given how proud you seem at this moment."

Harry's smile didn't even waver. "I always get them done though, sir."

"Put your books away, Potter," Snape said abruptly . "Then come and sit over here." Harry sobered quickly at the change in his teacher's tone and hurried to comply, shoving his books in his bag and shuffling over to sit at Snape's desk.

"How are you feeling after the events of Halloween now some time has passed?" Snape asked without waiting a beat.

"Huh?" Harry said dumbly. "What- did Professor Dumbledore tell you something?"

"I have not received any updates from the headmaster. But that is not what I am concerned about right now."

"So what? You're concerned about me?"

Snape frowned "You witnessed a harrowing scene not two days passed."

"Yeah, along with the rest of the school."

"Your experience can hardly be compared to the rest of the school. You were lured there by an incorporeal voice."

Harry shrugged. "I feel fine about it."

Snape looked skeptical.

"You want me to feel bad?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I want to know if you're struggling with what you saw."

"Well, I've said I'm fine so..."

Snape studied him for a moment. "Very well."

Harry blinked. "Can I ask you a question now?"

Snape inclined his head in acquiescence.

"Is Malfoy playing in the match next weekend?"

"Potter," Snape exhaled loudly in despair.

"What!?"

"I am trying to have a serious conversation and all that is on your mind is Quidditch."

"That's not all that's on my mind," he defended quietly. "And besides, we were done with that conversation I thought."

"I'm not giving you insider information on the line-up of the Slytherin team."

"Oh, pleaaase. I won't say where I heard it."

"I've said no, Mr. Potter. You'll find out soon enough."

***

Heavy drops of rain were pelting Harry's glasses as he sped around the pitch, squinting desperately for the snitch.

As it turned out, Malfoy wasn't playing Seeker for Slytherin, Adrian Pucey had kept his position. A fact that Harry was feeling very smug about. He could beat Pucey in his sleep.

All of a sudden, a heavy black Bludger came hurtling towards him. He ducked at the last second, avoiding it so narrowly he heard it whistle past his ear.

"Watch out, Harry!" he heard George call from a few metres away. "Got ourselves a live one!"

Harry saluted in George's direction and watched as the Weasley twin gave the Bludger an almighty thwack away with his bat. He continued to watch on, this time in horror, as the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for him again.

He didn't bother sticking around to find out what was happening and instead instinctively turned and put on a burst of speed, zooming towards the other end of the pitch. He could hear the Bludger sailing along behind him. Fred had joined his twin now and they were both racing after him, shouting words that Harry couldn't distinguish over the roar of the crowd and the wind whistling in his ears.

Since when did Bludgers chase individual players?

And why did it have to be him when they did?

Harry weaved, ducked, sped up and swerved. But still the Bludger hounded him.

In his desperation to evade the bludger, he barely been focusing closely on the rest of the game. But as he zigzagged around the pitch, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a streak of green dive suddenly. His breath caught in his throat. There was only one reason a player dived like that. It must be Pucey. And he must have spotted the snitch.

Just the few seconds that Harry had paused to process this information were enough.

WHACK

A searing pain shot down his arm as the Bludger collided with his elbow. He felt something crack and groaned in agony, his arm was definitely broken.

But through the haze of pain he watched as the Bludger once again spun in midair, and headed back for him.

Un-bloody-believable.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins giving him a hint of clarity that just maybe if he caught the Snitch to finish the game it might stop the relentless Bludger attack. So he set off in pursuit of Pucey. He wasn't going to let him beat him. Rogue Bludger and broken arm be damned.

Seconds later, he too was hurtling towards the ground, pushing down on his broom with his left arm, his right dangling uselessly beside him. The two Seekers were neck and neck, the ground approaching fast. Pucey looked over and Harry knew he had him beat. Sure enough a single millisecond later and Pucey was pulling out of the dive.

Just when he thought he might be able to reach, Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch.

By some miracle, his fingers closed around the freezing metal of the golden snitch.

He'd got it. They'd won.

Before he could even think about pulling out of the dive, he crashed into the muddy ground with an alarming jolt. He managed to roll to his left to protect his broken arm, but he couldn't get up. He was completely winded from the impact as well as dazed by the searing pain from his arm.

He lay face up in the mud, the rain continuing to pelt his vision. He held his breath for a few seconds, but when no further assault came, he realised he must have been right. The end of the game had mercifully deactivated the Bludger. He let out a heaving breath in relief.

But his relief did not last long. A sickeningly familiar figure entered his line of sight as they leant over him, blocking the falling rain.

"Oh god," he groaned. "Please no." He tried in vain to sit up, to get away, but as the adrenaline from flying and evading the Bludger began to fade, the pain in his arm began to mount steadily in response.

He gritted his teeth to stop himself from crying out.

"Not to worry, Harry," Lockhart announced as he knelt down beside him. "I can fix that in a jiffy."

"No! Don't. Madam Pomfrey can do it. It's fine." Harry was panting now with the effort of trying to move his arm out of Lockhart's reach. Where was Snape?

"Hold still, I've performed hundreds of these charms," Lockhart continued loudly. Harry had the feeling his words weren't just for his benefit but rather for the small crowd that had begun to circle around them.

"We can just take him to the hospital wing, sir," Katie Bell tried. "Pomfrey can mend his arm in one second."

"Stand back, everyone!" Lockhart ignored her and began to roll up his sleeves.

"Really, sir, we're happy to take him straight to the infirmary," Oliver Wood reiterated.

"There is no need, I have everything under control."

Shite, Harry thought. Where the hecking heck was Snape?

Harry watched in horror as Lockhart twirled his wand and directed it straight at his arm. He didn't hear an incantation, he couldn't hear anything really over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. But he felt an unpleasant sensation spread from his shoulder all the way down into his fingertips.

To his utter amazement his arm didn't hurt anymore, the shooting pain had disappeared. But something wasn't quite right. Something was definitely off.

"Ah, yes," Lockhart cleared his throat. "Now, that can happen. A fairly common side effect. Easily fixable I should say. Pop up to the hospital wing, Harry, and Madam Pomfrey will sort you right out. Bell, Wood, can you escort him please." Lockhart hurried away through the crowd.

As his two teammates took a step forward, Harry chanced it and looked down at his arm. He doubled over and retched, the crowd rearing back in anticipation of getting splattered.

His arm was hanging out of his sleeve but it looked horribly deflated. It just looked like a fleshy tube. He tried to move it, to wiggle his fingers, but nothing happened.

His bones hadn't been mended. They'd vanished. Oh god he had no bones in his arm. He had no bones in his arm. His dominant arm! What the heck was he gonna do?!

"Stand aside," Snape's voice cut through the crowd.

The crowd parted and Harry caught sight of Snape's commanding figure.

"What has happened here?" Snape demanded. "Why are you lying in the mud, Potter?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He was so relieved to see Snape but he couldn't get a hold of any words to form a sentence right now.

"A Bludger was going after Harry!" George piped up. "It was like a magnet to him. We tried our best but it eventually caught up with him and-"

"And it broke his arm," Oliver cut in. "Professor Lockhart said he could fix it, but instead he's removed all the bones in his arm."

"What?"

"We tried to convince Professor Lockhart to let us take him straight to the hospital wing," he gestured back towards the rest of the Gryffindor team. "But he was adamant he could mend it himself."

Snape didn't say anything at first but Harry could see the anger burning in his eyes and he looked away. Oh god, was he in trouble? He was meant to avoid Lockhart and yet he'd allowed him to get close enough to remove all the bones in his arm!

"Wood, Bell, escort Potter to the hospital wing immediately."

Harry flinched. That settled it. Snape was furious with him. He wouldn't even take him to the hospital wing himself.

But he didn't have much chance to dwell on it before Oliver was reaching down to help him, hauling him up by his good arm. He felt weak and shaky so he was glad when his teammates stood either side of him as they began to head for the castle and undoubtedly the wrath of Madam Pomfrey.

***

Snape stepped into the dim light of the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey immediately appeared from the doorway of her office, bustling towards him purposefully.

"How is he?" Snape asked as soon as she was close enough.

"He'll be fine. What I don't understand is why he wasn't brought to me immediately."

"What has he said?"

"Very little. Katie Bell explained the situation to me, such a sweet girl. But I couldn't really get anything out of Harry. Maybe you'll have more luck. Although he should be nearly asleep by now. I've given him his first dose of Skele-gro and a rather strong pain potion. Unfortunately that won't completely mask the pain, but I've given him as much as I can. What in Merlin's name was Gilderoy thinking? I can mend bones in a heartbeat- but growing them back? The poor boy is in for a rough night."

"Lockhart does not think, that is his problem," Snape growled. "Albus is dealing with him as we speak. I was forbidden from sitting in, although I certainly tried, hence my delayed arrival. I will sit with Potter for a while now if you have no objections."

"Not at all, Severus."

Snape slipped through the curtain of the bed he was directed to. He could tell straight away that the child was not asleep as Poppy had said he should be. He was still sitting upright against his pillows and he was clearly in considerable pain. His body was tense, his breaths coming in short, shallow puffs. A sweaty sheen covered his face, and his good hand was fisting the sheets tightly.

"Potter," Snape said quietly to announce his presence.

Harry's eyes flew open and he blanched.

Snape frowned, that was not the reaction to his arrival that he'd been expecting. "I know you're in pain-"

"S'not so bad," Harry felt obliged to cut in, although even as these words left his mouth he hissed and gritted his teeth.

Snape dragged the visitor's chair closer to the bed and sat down. "Madam Pomfrey has given you everything she can in terms of pain relief," he explained slowly. "But I can try and make you a little more comfortable."

He summoned an extra pillow and placed it under the boy's regrowing arm, so it rested on top of the blankets across his stomach. Harry winced as his arm was manipulated into position but it did feel better to have it cushioned that way.

Next, Snape conjured a cloth, wet it with his wand and placed it over the boy's forehead, gently wiping his brow and fringe.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked as he squeezed his eyes shut, his voice wobbled with the promise of impending tears.

"Doing what?" Snape set the cloth aside.

"Being nice to me. I thought you were angry with me."

"Why on earth would I be angry with you?" Snape asked incredulously.

"'Cause I let Professor Lockhart get close to me. And- and he vanished all the bones in my arm."

Snape was dumbfounded. The child truly thought he blamed him for what had happened.

"Potter, listen to me," Snape got up out of his chair to sit on the edge of the bed. Harry's eyes opened as he felt the weight of his teacher settle down beside him. "You are not responsible for this, do you hear me?"

"But you s-said I had to stay away from him. I tried to g-get away but it just hurt so much. I told him no. I told him no over and over but he d-did it a-anyway." And with that, Harry quite abruptly lost the battle with his tears and collapsed forward, his forehead colliding with his teacher's sternum, his good hand fisted in Snape's robes as though he were afraid he would be shoved off.

Snape froze in shock but he didn't shove him away.

He could feel as great sobs wracked the child's body, his chest heaving, although he made very little sound. Snape lifted a hand and simply laid it on the back of the boy's head, keeping him in place. It wasn't quite what Snape would call a hug, but it wasn't far off.

They stayed that way for a long time, Snape uttered the odd soothing sentiment whilst keeping his hand steady, unwilling to pull away until Harry did. He found he didn't even care that his shirt was getting drenched by the boy's tears.

"You should try and sleep," Snape said when Harry finally pulled away. "There'll be another dose to come and you should rest in-between."

"Can't. Hurts too much," Harry explained as he leant back against his pillows. Even in the dim light, Snape could see a faint blush across the child's cheeks. Clearly he was embarrassed about his meltdown.

Snape picked up the wet cloth again, wiping at the tear-streaked cheeks this time. "Just try. Lie back, close your eyes."

Snape arranged the pillows so Harry was no longer upright before he got up and sat back in the visitor's chair.

Snape reached forward and pried open the boy's fist from where it had retwisted in the sheets and gathered it in his own. "Squeeze my hand when it hurts."

Immediately the smaller hand in his tightened in a vice-like grip.

"Don't leave," Harry whispered.

"I won't."

Even quieter. "Please."

"I'm not going anywhere," Snape assured him.

Harry eventually fell into a troubled sleep, the hold on Snape's hand gradually loosening. But he didn't free himself, even when the grip was lax enough.

As he watched over the child's sleeping form, Snape's overwhelming emotion was one of fury. But it was not directed at the boy as he had mistakenly assumed. He was feeling very much like he wanted to snap the neck of the person who had caused this suffering.

And it was going to take a Herculean effort to not act upon that.

Chapter Text

He tried to shrug off the hand that was shaking him awake but they were persistent.

"Wake up, Harry, just for a moment."

Harry groaned at the sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice as the memory of all that had happened, and where he was, came crashing back to him.

"Wha' time isst?" he slurred, refusing to open his eyes. At least his arm didn't hurt so badly anymore. It no longer felt like large splinters were being pushed straight through his flesh.

"It's the middle of the night, dear, I just need you to take another dose of potion and then you can go right back to sleep."

Harry peeled one eye open, Madam Pomfrey was standing right by his bedside, a steaming beaker in her hand.

"Where's Snape? Said he wouldn't leave."

"I'm right here, Potter." Harry turned his head and sure enough the blurry outline of his professor was just a few steps away.

"Sit up for me, dear."

"Alright," Harry agreed heavily, it wasn't like he had a choice anyway. He still wasn't able to move his arms or even twitch his fingers. He attempted to sit up but quickly realised he was going to need help with that. Snape stepped forward without a word, a gentle hand on his shoulder helping to raise him up and then settle the pillows behind him. He also reached across for Harry's glasses and placed them on the bridge of his nose. Harry was oddly touched at the unprompted thoughtfulness as everything swam into focus.

"Thanks," he muttered, embarrassment colouring his cheeks as he remembered more fragments of last night. Had he really fallen asleep clutching his teacher's hand?

Snape said nothing but stepped away again, and Madam Pomfrey handed over the beaker.

"Is it gonna make it start hurting again?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Madam Pomfrey. "But I promise it won't be as bad as the first dose was."

Drinking the potion burned the same way it had the first time and he instinctively coughed as it blazed down his throat. The beaker was plucked from his hand and the medi-witch retreated, leaving Snape to take her place.

Harry glanced around, and again, Snape seemed to know what he needed without asking and a cool glass of water was placed in his good hand.

He chugged it gratefully, the cool water dampening the fire as it slid down his throat.

"You don't have to stay," he mumbled as he handed the now empty glass back over.

"Lie back down," Snape simply instructed as he reached out with a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder to lean him forward ever so slightly so he could rearrange the pillows behind him to lay him flat again.

"Really, you can go," Harry tried again as he settled back.

Snape peered at him through the dim light. "You asked me to stay before you fell asleep last night."

"I know, I remember," he bit his lip to stop a hiss escaping as the potion began to take effect. "But I'm fine now. You can go. If- if you want."

Snape settled the blankets back around him. "What do you want?"

"S'okay, I'm fine on my own."

"Are you certain?"

"Yup," Harry closed his eyes, partly in sleepiness, partly to attempt to hide the pain he was feeling. He felt as his glasses were pulled gently off his face.

"I will stay until you fall asleep, how does that sound?"

"Sure. S'fine."

Madam Pomfrey was right. It certainly didn't hurt as much as it had earlier, but that didn't mean it was completely painless. His breath was hitching with each stab of developing bone fragment.

He was surprised to feel his hand gathered into his teacher's again, a firm grip reminding him he wasn't alone.

"You don't have to do that," he mumbled.

"Hush, child. Go to sleep."

***

When Harry next woke he was alone and the hospital wing was bathed in the soft light of morning. He leaned over to grab his glasses, thankfully within reach, and then gingerly attempted to wiggle his fingers. He let out a huge sigh of relief when they cooperated.

As he knew she would, a few minutes later Madam Pomfrey came bustling through his curtain and began to put his newly regrown bones to the test, putting his arm through a series of stretches and exercises before she declared him fully healed.

"I'll let Professor Snape know you're awake, dear."

"That's okay, I can find my own way back to the Tower. Uh- do I have any clean clothes here?" He'd been brought to the hospital wing in his filthy Quidditch robes and he didn't feel like walking through the corridors in those.

"I can fetch you something, but you'll have to wait for Professor Snape," she said firmly.

Harry rolled his eyes once her back was turned.

Harry sat swinging his legs impatiently, dressed in a set of clean clothes as he waited for his teacher to arrive.

"I heard you tried to skip out on me," was Snape's sardonic greeting as he stepped into view.

"I just said I could find my way back to the Tower fine on my own. I mean- with Dobby," he amended quickly. "She didn't need to drag you all the way up here to escort me."

"Who says you are going back to the Tower?"

"I'm not?" Harry asked, slightly alarmed.

"Not immediately, no," as if to prove his point, Snape sat down in the visitor's chair. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I'm all healed. Look," he raised his arm and wiggled his fingers in demonstration. "All fixed. No fussing required."

"I do not fuss, Potter."

"Okay, well Madam Pomfrey says I'm fully healed, so can we go?"

"I think we should talk first."

Harry sighed. "Can't we just not talk about something for once? It's fine. I'm fine. We can just move on."

"Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Probably not? But I'm so tired of talking about my feelings."

"So how about we talk about mine?"

"Huh?"

"I was concerned," Snape said, "when you assumed I would be angry at you for not preventing Professor Lockhart from getting close to you whilst you were injured."

"Well, you told me to stay away from him."

"I did. But you seem to be labouring under the misapprehension that you are not only responsible for your actions but also those of other people."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but quickly realised he had no idea what his teacher meant. "It is too early for me to be able to understand what you mean when you talk like that," he complained.

"You are responsible for staying away from Professor Lockhart, yes," Snape began, his tone uncharacteristically patient. 'But you are not responsible for Professor Lockhart not staying away from you. Is that clearer for you?"

"Uh," Harry scratched his head, repeating Snape's words slowly in his head. "Yeah, yes I think so."

"You were injured, possibly in shock, and exhausted from the physical exertion of the match. In no way was this incident your fault or as a result of not doing as I instructed."

"Okay, I get what you mean."

"However, you will not have to worry about our esteemed professor any longer."

Harry's eyes went wide. "What? Dum- Professor Dumbledore fired him?"

"Indeed."

"Wow," Harry took a moment to absorb that piece of information. "What did you say to him? To Professor Dumbledore I mean, to get him to fire him."

"I didn't have to say anything. As I understand it there was a fair number of the faculty clamouring for his dismissal."

"Woah." Harry imagined for a moment McGonagall and possibly Sprout? or maybe Flitwick? yelling at Dumbledore that Lockhart had to go. "So who-who's gonna replace him?" he thought to ask.

"The headmaster is making inquiries as we speak."

"Has he already left?" Harry asked.

"He was escorted off the premises last night," Snape answered.

"By you?"

"Not by me, no," Snape said darkly. Harry shivered at his tone.

"I can't believe it," Harry said. "He really fired him."

"Yes, indeed."

"Wait, does this mean we won't have Defense lessons together anymore?"

"I'll leave that up to you to decide. I shan't be offended either way. It would be good for you to return to a regular classroom environment, but I'm not opposed to continuing as things stand currently. But you needn't decide right this moment."

"Okay," Harry said easily. "But wait, what was up with that Bludger? I've never had one stick to me like that before."

"We have a suspicion that it may have been tampered with."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

"You are correct that a Bludger should not attach itself to an individual player in the way that one did to you. So it is likely that there is something more going on. The headmaster and Madam Hooch are investigating."

"Someone's really out to get me, huh?"

"It does seem that way, yes. All the more reason for you to remain vigilant."

"Right." Harry sighed tiredly. Was there really anything simple in his life?

"Are you certain there is nothing else you would like to discuss? About last night perhaps?"

Harry could feel his cheeks colouring as he remembered the tender handling of last night. The way Snape had wiped his brow, held him as he'd wept and then let him hold his hand. How he'd begged him to stay with him and immediately asked for him when he was woken in the middle of the night.

"Uh, no. Not really," he finally said.

"Very well. Let's call Dobby and you can be on your way."

***

Harry was mobbed by what felt like the whole of Gryffindor House when he stepped through the portrait hole.

"Great match, Harry!"

"That dive was sick!"

"Sorry about your arm, mate, that looked gnarly."

Harry smiled briefly at everyone's congratulations, but really his focus was on finding his friends in the crowd.

"Give the man some room!" boomed Fred Weasley's voice above the noise. "Let him breathe."

Harry smiled gratefully towards his teammate as everyone took a step back, a few slapping him on the back as they went.

"Over here, Harry," he heard Hermione's voice and followed it through the dispersing crowd.

"How're the bones, mate?" Ron asked as soon as he reached them.

"Good as new," Harry assured. "Hurt like hell though. Let's go somewhere a bit quieter. I have something to tell you."

"I mean I know we thought the git was hopeless," Ron said as they retreated to a more secluded alcove. "But vanishing your bones really is a new low."

"Tell me about it," Harry said as he slumped into the comfortable sofa. "But you'll never guess what."

"What? Please tell me Snape ripped the git a new one. And that you got to watch," Ron said as he dropped down beside him.

"Not quite. But you're close."

"Dumbledore ripped him a new one?"

"I mean, sort of yeah," Harry said, his lips twitching.

"Wait, Dumbledore fired him?" Ron said incredulously.

"Bingo," Harry said with a satisfied smile.

"Yes!" Ron cheered, loudly enough that a few people looked over.

"Shhh," Harry urged but quickly reconsidered. "Although, actually, Snape didn't say I could't tell anyone. I doubt he would care if it got out. People will know on Monday when he doesn't show up for class."

"I think I could get used to you having Snape in your back pocket if it means we get all this info before everyone else knows about it."

"I don't have him in my back pocket, Ron," Harry said, trying to make it sound like he was opposed to the idea, but his face was threatening to betray him as he felt it heating.

"Whatever you say, mate," Ron was grinning hugely.

"What did Professor Snape say?" Hermione stepped in.

"Not much. Just that it wasn't even him who demanded it. It was the other teachers."

"Wow, clearly everyone was on your side, Harry. I wonder if they knew about everything else that has happened," Hermione mused.

"Dunno, I didn't ask."

"And did he say who's going to be replacing him?"

"Uh, he said Dumbledore's working on it," Harry said. "But he doesn't know yet."

"Does that mean you'll come back to class?" Ron asked.

"Yeah maybe, dunno though. Snape said he'll leave it up to me. I do like him teaching me and I feel like I'm learning a lot. But I do miss lessons with everyone. Especially if you start actually learning stuff and getting to duel together."

"Hey, maybe we can convince the new teacher to still do the dueling club. And you'll be able to come alone seeing as it's not Lockhart running it anymore. It might actually be good if Dumbledore can find an actual teacher to replace him."

"That's actually a good idea, Ron," Harry smirked. "For you."

"Git," Ron leaned over to punch him, but Harry reared back, protecting his newly healed arm.

"Hey! Watch the bones, they're brand new!" he exclaimed.

"Well, it's a good job you have two arms then isn't it?" Ron said, a merciless glint in his eye.

***

"Severus, my boy, come and sit down. Tea?" Dumbledore asked placidly.

"No thank you, Headmaster," Snape said, as he took the proffered seat.

"I hope you don't mind if I order for myself?" Snape waved a hand dismissively and Dumbledore waved his wand and a steaming cup of tea immediately appeared, a slice of lemon on the rim.

"And how is young Harry?" he asked, as he squeezed a few drops of the lemon into his tea and stirred it.

"Fully recovered," Snape said simply.

"Excellent, excellent." He cleared his throat. "Well I'm sure you're eager to hear who I have managed to convince to replace Gilderoy."

"Did they take much convincing?" Snape asked snidely.

"Surprisingly, yes," he chuckled.

A soft knock sounded on the door of the office.

"Ah, that'll be him now. Come in," he called. "I believe you are familiar with one another," Dumbledore continued as the door to the office swung open.

Unable to curb his brewing curiosity, Snape turned in his chair to watch as the new Defense teacher stepped into the room. And what he saw made his blood boil immediately.

Just inside the doorway stood a thin, tired-looking man. His robes were shabby and had obviously been patched up in a number of places, his shoes in a similar state of disrepair. Light-brown hair was flecked with grey and was long enough to be falling into his brown eyes. On one side of his face a thin scar ran across his cheek, faded enough that it was likely from a childhood injury.

It was Remus Lupin.

Chapter Text

Snape whipped his head back to face the headmaster. "You cannot be serious, Albus," he growled.

"Come and sit down, Remus," Dumbledore said kindly, seemingly ignoring the instant rage that was directed his way.

"I did not think you could do worse than Lockhart but I can see that I was mistaken," Snape continued anyway.

"Good to see you too, Severus," Lupin said softly, as he stepped into the room and took a seat.

"Spare me, Lupin," Snape hissed, his voice full of venom. "This man is a danger to children and all that cannot defend themselves adequately," he directed this at Dumbledore.

"Now, now, Severus, there is no need for that."

"No need?! Have you truly lost your mind, Albus?" The volume of Snape's voice was rising, and he was struggling to contain himself. "I doubt you will be of the same opinion when he is hunting students across the grounds."

"I would never do that, Severus," Lupin continued in the same soft, slightly sad tone.

"Oh but you have, haven't you, Lupin," Snape spat. "I speak from personal experience, I'm sure you remember?"

"Severus. Enough." Dumbledore's voice was so chilling that even Snape paused momentarily. "Remus will not be a threat to our students. Or anyone for that matter."

"He cannot change what he is," Snape said sullenly.

"No, but a potion can, I believe?" Dumbledore mused. "I'm sure you've heard of it."

"Of course I've heard of it," Snape snarked. "Is that why you wanted me here? To get me to agree to brew Wolfsbane for Lupin?"

Lupin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I would greatly appreciate it, Severus. I have never known anyone skilled enough to brew it for me, it far exceeds my skills."

"I couldn't care less what you would appreciate." Snape said.

"Severus, there was a time when you came to me, asking for a second chance," Dumbledore pointed out.

"That was not the same."

"I agree. You could say Remus has no choice over his current predicament."

Snape saw red. How dare Albus bring that up in front of Remus Lupin of all people.

"Remus is the only person for the job, Severus," Dumbledore continued. "But he has the makings of an excellent teacher. Can you find it within yourself to give him a chance, hm?"

Snape was getting damn tired of bending to the whims of Albus Dumbledore. And he was still recovering from the man's thinly veiled reference to a time in his life he would rather not think about.

"I will brew the damn potion," he eventually conceded. "But Potter will not be attending his lessons."

With that, Snape got up and stormed out of the room without another word. He didn't quite stoop to slamming the door but it took every ounce of his control not to.

"Well that went about as well as we could expect." Dumbledore said, his voice overly cheery. "Tea, Remus?"

"Yes, thank you," a brief smile flitted across Lupin's face. "I must admit I'm intrigued by Severus' comment about uh, about Harry."

"Young Harry has been taking his Defense lessons with Severus these past few months. They get on remarkably well, I must say."

"Harry and Severus?"

Dumbledore chuckled at his incredulous tone. "Yes, the very same."

"That is an odd thought."

"It is, isn't it. Sugar?"

"No, thank you." He leant forward to accept the offered saucer.

"Harry and Severus have an arrangement of sorts. It only started this year. I won't go too much into it but I'm very much in support of it."

"Well, it seems as though Severus aims to keep me away from Harry. Or Harry away from me, maybe."

"I'm not sure he'll be able to do that once Harry finds out who you are."

"And who am I to him? No one at his point. Just someone who knew his parents but didn't bother to check on him once they'd passed."

Dumbledore seemed to consider this as he took a sip from his teacup. "Harry is rather an extraordinary child, I'm sure you'll find." He set his cup down with a soft clatter back in its saucer. "I have no doubt he'll be eager to get to know you. Don't be so hard on yourself, my boy, you have not had an easy time of it without access to Wolfsbane."

"Do you really think Severus will brew it for me?"

"I do," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Severus is a man of his word."

"You must take the cost of ingredients and such out of my pay-check," Lupin said. "And compensate Severus in whatever way he wants."

"Do not be ridiculous, my boy. Everything is covered by our reasonable adjustments policy."

Lupin closed his eyes momentarily and took a series of deep breaths.

"You deserve access to this potion, Remus," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice, but the sincerity rang strongly. "You have suffered in silence for too long."

Lupin nodded slowly. "I really appreciate you saying that, Albus."

"Think nothing of it. Shall we move on to a bit of admin?" Lupin nodded in agreement, so Dumbledore pressed on. "This year the students have had a rather...unconventional start, shall we say. So do not be afraid to start from the beginning, there is little chance you will be covering anything they have already learned."

"But it's already November," Remus said, perplexed. "Surely they must be part way through the curriculum already?"

"As I said, Gilderoy was unconventional."

"Alright," Lupin conceded easily, unwilling to press.

"You may have to assign an alternative textbook too. I'm not sure you'd appreciate your source material being the life works of Gilderoy Lockhart?" Dumbledore hid a smile behind his teacup.

***

Before classes had even started the next morning, the whole school was abuzz with the news that Gilderoy Lockhart had been fired. Gossip always seemed to spread fast at Hogwarts but this did feel particularly speedy to Harry.

"Look," Hermione said at breakfast, directing the boys' attention up to the staff table. "Who's that about to sit down next to Professor Sprout?"

A hush had fallen over the Great Hall as everyone stopped to watch the newcomer take his seat.

Harry watched along with everyone else as the stranger graciously consented to Professor Sprout filling his plate after she'd disapproved of him reaching only for the pot of coffee.

Seeming to sense that a number of eyes were on him, Remus Lupin looked up from his mug, a pink blush across his face- from Professor Sprout's mothering or the feeling that everyone was watching him, Harry couldn't tell.

The man's gaze swept over the Great Hall, almost like he was searching for something. Or someone.

When their eyes eventually met, Harry couldn't look away. And neither did Lupin.

Harry frowned ever so slightly- had he seen his man somewhere before?

"Do you know him, Harry?" Hermione whispered in his ear, breaking his concentration. Harry blinked, and his connection with the man was broken.

He turned to his friend. "I don't think so? I mean- he does seem familiar," he explained. "But I have no idea where from. I can't place him."

"Well, I suspect that's our new Defense teacher," she said confidently.

"Oh, yeah," Harry agreed. "You're probably right."

"Probably?" Hermione echoed in mock offense. "I'm almost certain. Who else would it be? Professor Dumbledore certainly works quickly."

"Well we only have to get through Potions before we find out," Ron chimed in to point out.

***

"Stay behind, Mr. Potter," came Snape's instruction, immediately after he'd told the rest of the class to bring forward their potion samples for marking after which point they could leave.

Harry had been expecting the command. He and Snape hadn't discussed further what he was going to do about Defense yet. But he thought the man would have gotten the hint when he didn't stay behind this time as he usually did on Monday mornings when Defense followed Potions.

He slumped back in his seat, watching as his fellow Gryffindors dutifully traipsed to the front of the classroom to drop off their vials before packing up their equipment and returning their unused ingredients to the store cupboard. Most of them eagerly rushed off, keen to find out more about the mysterious figure at breakfast as most of them had figured out he would be leading their next lesson.

"Pack your things away, Potter. And bring your potion here. I'll be one moment and then we will move to my office." Snape said, as he turned away and flicked his wand to wipe clean the chalk from the blackboard that had displayed the instructions for their Fire Protecting Potion.

"That's okay, Professor," Harry began. He felt nervous, his heart fluttering a smidge quicker than usual, but the man had said he wouldn't be offended. "I thought I'd just go back to having Defense with everyone else now. The new teacher seems fine. If that was him at breakfast, that is?"

"I think it best if we continue as we were," Snape said without turning around.

"Oh. I thought uhh, I thought you said I could decide?"

"I did," Snape finally turned to face Harry. "But that was remiss of me, I should not have said that."

"What? Why?"

"It is best for all involved if we keep things the way they are. You are progressing considerably well with me and I should like to keep it that way."

"Best for all involved? Why, who is he?" Harry pressed.

"That is irrelevant."

Harry was thoroughly confused. What had caused his teacher to change his mind so quickly?

"O-kay," he said slowly.

"Do as I have said, Potter. Pack away. Potion here." Snape snappily instructed, and Harry hurried to obey this time.

He rushed off from his and Snape's lesson with the same enthusiasm his classmates had an hour earlier, keen to hear about the new teacher and what everyone thought of him.

The common room was crowded, nearly every seat was taken so it took a second for him to spot his friends but eventually he spotted them sitting on a sofa by the fire and he rushed over to join them.

"Hey," he greeted them both, squeezing into the small space they created when the saw him. "How was it?"

"Well, put it like this, he couldn't be more different from Lockhart," Ron offered at first.

"In a good way?"

"Yes, in a good way!" Ron said emphatically.

"Really, Harry, he was excellent," Hermione agreed. "So interesting and really knows what he's talking about."

"Ugh, I'm jealous. I wish I could join you. Snape says I have to keep doing lessons with him. And he said I have to do a theory exam for him next week. Can you believe that?"

Hermione smiled sympathetically.

"I forgot to ask- what's his name? The new teacher, I mean." Harry asked.

"Remus Lupin," Hermione said. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Uhh," Harry wracked his brain for a moment. "Nope, doesn't ring any bells. Damn, I thought that would jog my memory because I'm sure I've seen his face somewhere before," he said. "Snape was so weird about it, said it was 'better for everyone involved' if we just kept everything the way it had been."

"It did seem like Professor Lupin already knew you wouldn't be coming. He didn't ask about you or anything. Maybe Professor Snape just wants to keep a close eye on you?" Hermione suggested.

"He already does," Harry huffed. "He did say I was doing well learning with him. But I don't think that's all. I can't explain it, but he was acting weird. Weird for him anyway. Something was definitely off."

"Well if it's just about you learning well with Snape then why can't you do both? At least in the times when you've been sitting in the library when we had Defense but Snape wasn't free." Hermione suggested. "If you really wanted to join in that is, and Professor Lupin doesn't mind you dropping in and out."

"That's- that's a good idea, Hermione," Harry said slowly. "Yeah that could actually work. He didn't say I couldn't go. Just that I had to learn with him. How will he know that I just do the reading he assigns me at another time?"

"Brilliant!" Ron said. "It's sorted then. I'll ask Lupin tomorrow, you have Snape tomorrow right? And we'll see if he'll let you join the day after."

"Did you manage to ask him about starting the dueling club?"

"Oh yeah!" Ron said. "He said he'd ask Dumbledore about it. We did say he'd already approved it under Lockhart but Lupin wants to double check. He said he'd get back to us."

***

"Um, sir?" Ron approached Lupin's desk as the rest of the class departed. Hermione hovered near the door, prepared to be back up if he needed.

"What can I do for you, Ron?" Lupin smiled gently. "If this is about the dueling club, I haven't yet managed to speak with the headmaster. But I'm sure you can appreciate it's only been one day."

"No, no, it's not about that," Ron assured.

"Go ahead then."

"It's about Harry. Harry Potter," he said, cringing at his own clarification. "Uhh, I'm sure you know him?"

"I know who he is, yes," Lupin said lightly.

"Okay, cool, well, we were just thinking because he was to do his Defense lessons with Snape- Professor Snape sorry, but we were telling him how great your lesson was and he was saying that he was really jealous and would really like to be able to come too but Professor Snape won't let him- or says he has to continue his lessons with him instead. But the thing is, not all of our lessons line up with when Professor Snape is free so sometimes Harry just has a free period and sits in the library. So we were thinking, if you're okay with it, maybe he could sit in on those lessons? But only if you don't mind," Ron paused for a second trying to order his already jumbled point. "He's really good at Defense, especially now he's getting private lessons. But even before then he was really good. He's always helping other people with their work. He just doesn't want to miss out if we're learning cool things. I mean yeah, he's learning cool things with Sn-Professor Snape but-."

"That's enough, Ron," Lupin interrupted gently, "I know what you're asking and you present a convincing argument."

Ron sighed in relief. Partly at having been stopped from rambling on. "So you don't mind?"

"I have no objection. Just have him inform me of what lessons I can expect him in, ahead of time."

"I can tell you now," Ron dug around in his bag to pull out his scrunched timetable. "So these two he can come to," he pointed them out so Lupin could see.

"Alright then. I shall make a note of it. He should perhaps discuss it with Professor Snape first too."

"I will pass that along, thank you, sir."

"It's quite alright, Ron. I had no idea attendance to my lessons would be in such high demand."

"Okay so he said that he doesn't mind if you come along when you can." Ron informed Harry when they met up after their respective Defense lessons on the walk down to the greenhouses for Herbology.

"Really? That's amazing."

"I told him what lessons you could come to. He just said you should probably tell Snape first."

"What? Why? How could Snape be annoyed if I'm going to extra lessons, that's like, his dream."

"I'm just passing the message along, that's what he said." Ron said, as they strolled down the grassy slopes.

"Okay, well I will not be doing that."

"Well he didn't explicitly say you had to," Hermione chimed in. "Just that perhaps you should."

"Wow, Hermione, never thought I would see the day you weaseled around something a teacher said like that."

"What? I'm just trying to help." Hermione said.

"Exactly, leave her alone, Ron. The only weasel here is you." Ron stuck his tongue out at his friend in mock annoyance. "Very mature," Harry said sarcastically. "Well if Lupin didn't say I absolutely have to tell him then I'm definitely not going to. What Snape doesn't know won't hurt him. And it's literally just extra lessons, like I said, what could he possibly have against that?"

Chapter Text

A few days later, Harry was waiting eagerly outside of the Defense classroom alongside the rest of his classmates.

Remus Lupin stepped out into the hallway, taking in the orderly line in front of him with a grateful smile. "Thank you for waiting so patiently. We'll be doing a practical today," he explained, "so please stow your bags at the front and begin by pushing the desks out of the way. I thought we could all do that without magic, get the blood pumping." He stepped aside and the students began to file into the classroom excitedly.

"Just a moment, Harry," Lupin said, just as Harry was about to pass through. He reached out a hand as if to pull him out of line but Harry sidestepped instinctively to avoid the contact. But it seemed like Harry's movement had been what Lupin had been after, and now that he was out of the line, Lupin waved the rest of class in.

The two of them watched and waited as the rest of the students disappeared into the classroom. When they were alone, Lupin focused his attention on Harry.

"Hello, Harry," he said soberly, eyeing him closely. "I understand you wanted to sit in on a few lessons when you're not with Professor Snape, is that right?" Lupin asked.

"Yeah, if that's okay? Ron said you said it was okay." Harry said, a little puzzled by the questioning and the intent look he was currently receiving.

"As I told Ron, I have no problem with that. But I did ask that you cleared it with Professor Snape first."

"Oh yeah, he said it was fine" Harry fibbed, the lie rolling easily and immediately off his tongue. "Just as long as I keep going to his lessons and still do his readings and do well in his tests and yeah." Stop talking, Harry, he thought to himself.

Lupin paused, and Harry did his best not to squirm. "Alright then. I have heard you may have had a more comprehensive start to the year than your peers, have you covered the disarming charm yet?"

"Expelliarmus? Yeah!" Harry exclaimed. "Uh, I mean yes, sir, I'm really good at that one now." He tried to temper his enthusiasm so Lupin didn't catch on to this relief that he'd changed the subject.

"Excellent, you can help me with the demonstration then. In you go."

Harry scampered into the classroom, depositing his bag on the large pile with everyone else's and taking his place beside his friends.

"Everything good, mate?" Ron asked quietly as Lupin stepped up to the front of the classroom.

"Yeah, I think so. He seemed to believe that I'd told Snape."

"Nice one."

What followed was a very enjoyable half an hour for Harry. As promised, Lupin used him to demonstrate the expelliarmus spell for the rest of the class. The professor was clearly impressed with him, as he freely praised his technique and Harry did his best not to preen.

As it became obvious that Harry didn't need to spend any more time practising, Lupin suggested that he watch the others and give them pointers if anyone seemed to be struggling.

Harry was in the middle of just that, trying to explain to Neville that he really had to want to disarm Parvati in order for it to work, when there was a smart knock at the door. Harry didn't even really hear it, but Lupin did and stepped between the pairs of practising students to answer the door.

"Professor Snape," Lupin said in surprise. "What can I do for you?"

This did manage to filter through to Harry, despite the noise of the classroom. And he felt his blood run cold.

Oh.

Shite.

"Is Mr. Potter with you?" Harry heard Snape's distinct baritone voice and knew for certain that he was caught.

"Yes, he is. I'll just fetch him for you. He's doing rather an excellent job instructing his peers."

Lupin turned around and locked eyes with Harry who was currently frozen to the spot. A second of intense eye contact and then Lupin was waving him over.

Feeling pretty confident that he probably wasn't going to be returning after he'd talked to Snape, he crossed to the front of the classroom first to collect his bag. Then, seeing no way out, he forced himself to walk back towards the door, his feet feeling heavier with each step he took. As he got closer he could sense Lupin's disappointment, even without looking at him- which Harry was too embarrassed to do right now. Clearly he'd already worked out that Harry hadn't been entirely truthful with him.

Lupin stepped aside so Harry came face to face with Snape standing in the hallway.

"With me, Mr. Potter." Was all he said before he stalked away. He hadn't looked angry, Harry thought, but Snape was good at hiding what he was really feeling.

Harry smiled weakly up at Lupin, still not quite meeting his eye, before he hurried after the Potions Master.

"I'm sorr-," Harry began when he'd managed to catch up.

"Save it, Potter."

Harry took the hint and didn't say anything more whilst Snape led him along the corridors of the castle. Much to his surprise though, they didn't begin the descent towards the dungeons which Harry had been expecting. Instead they climbed up a level and headed along the east corridor.

Harry had a feeling he knew where Snape was leading him.

Sure enough, the large oak doors of the library came into view at the end of the corridor and Snape came to a halt, turning to fix his gaze on Harry.

"Where did I instruct you to study during the periods when I was not available to instruct you in Defense?"

"In the library," Harry murmured.

"Speak up, Mr. Potter."

Harry cleared his throat. "In the library, sir," he said more clearly.

"And where is the library, Mr. Potter?"

"Uh, through those doors." Harry said, raising his arm up slightly to gesture down the corridor.

"So it appears you've not forgotten where I've instructed you to remain," Snape continued in that clipped tone that Harry hated. The tone that meant he was irritated and not to be argued with. "And yet, how is it that I've come to find you in the Defense classroom?"

Harry flattened himself against the wall behind him, trying to make himself smaller.

"I demand an explanation, Mr. Potter. This instant."

Harry gulped. Snape's excessive use of Mr. Potter was also not a good sign. "I just wanted to see what the new teacher was like," Harry offered in response.

"Against my explicit instructions to remain in the library?"

"Well, I mean- I guess so yeah." He ducked his head.

"I have shown you a great deal of trust, allowing you to take a free period when I am not available. A privilege normally awarded only to sixth and seventh year students. Evidently that trust was misplaced."

Harry wished hard for a trap door to appear so he could drop through the floor. He actually thought he'd rather face the man's anger rather than the piercing disappointment he was currently expressing.

"'M sorry," Harry offered, though he knew it wasn't enough. "I was still going to do the reading you set me, I promise."

"That is not what we're discussing at this time, Mr. Potter, and I think you know that. If I tell you to remain somewhere, that is where I expect you to be. I expect to be obeyed."

Harry just nodded. "Don't- don't be mad at Professor Lupin," he pleaded. "He asked me if I'd asked you and I told him you'd said it was okay."

"You blatantly lied to him?"

"Yes, sir." The shame prickled his cheeks and they blushed faintly.

To his surprise, Snape crouched down to his level, placing a long finger under his chin to urge his gaze up. "What has gotten into you, Potter?" Snape asked seriously. "You know better, I know you do."

"I don't know," Harry said, mortified when his voice cracked and he found himself perilously close to tears. "Everyone said he was such a good teacher so I just wanted to see. Not that I don't like learning with you, I do, I promise."

"This is not about you protecting my ego, Potter. I couldn't care less about that. My issue lies in the fact that you disobeyed a direct order from me."

"Yeah," he swallowed thickly. "I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

Snape stood back up to his full height. "You will have to make your apologies to Mr. Wood as you will not be attending your practices this week."

As the realisation dawned on him of what Snape intended his punishment to be, all notion of shame and guilt strangely disappeared and he was immediately filled with a roiling, red-hot rage.

"Fine," he spat. "I should've guessed it. You're just annoyed that we beat Slytherin last week. Who cares if you take away the one thing that makes me happy to give your team a better chance?"

"Would you like to make it two weeks?" Snape asked, the picture of composure, unwilling to rise to Harry's bait.

"No, sir," he sneered, rage still pumping through his veins.

"Pity, two weeks it is. I gave you a chance to adjust your attitude, Mr. Potter."

Harry gritted his teeth hard, desperate to lash out again.

"Since you have shown me that you cannot be trusted to study on your own, I have been forced to find alternative arrangements."

But Harry wasn't listening, he was still struggling with the rage that was coursing through him. It was making him feel crazy. Where on earth had this feeling come from? He balled his fists and squeezed his eyes closed as he battled to contain it. But it felt uncontainable.

To his credit, Snape seemed to catch onto this fairly quickly and Harry sensed his teacher crouch down to his level again.

Harry heard a sickening sound behind him, like nails on a chalkboard before a resounding crack caused his eyes to snap open.

"Potter, calm yourself," Snape instructed, reaching out to lift Harrys' bag off his shoulder and placing it on the stone floor before gripping Harry's wrists firmly. "Deep breath." His tone was slow and deliberate.

Instead of wanting to pull away, the touch felt grounding. He did as he was told and sucked in hard then exhaled a long, slow breath. "What happened? What did I do?"

Snape glanced up above Harry's head. "A window has cracked, do not concern yourself." Snape released one of Harry's wrists and slipped his wand out and muttered what Harry assumed was a repairing spell.

"Sorry."

"There is no need to apologise for accidental magic."

Harry blanched. "I thought I was done with that. With the glamour stopping and stuff."

"The glamour was simply one instance of your accidental magic. It doesn't mean you are completely free from performing it."

"Great," he muttered.

"Are you feeling more in control?" Snape asked. He still hadn't released the boy.

"Yes, sir" Harry bit out. "I don't-I don't know where that came from." Now that he was more aware of his surroundings again, he took stock of their relative positions and started to twist his arm out of his teacher's grip.

Snape took the hint and let go, stepping back to give him some space.

"Why don't you want me going to Professor Lupin's lessons?"

Snape froze.

Harry blinked up at him. "He's not like Lockhart. I can already tell."

"Now is not the place for that discussion."

"So there is a reason," Harry pressed.

"I said not now, Potter," Snape growled.

"Okay, when then?" He was unwilling to give in.

"Mr. Potter, I suggest you drop it. Barnaby Jones, a seventh year Ravenclaw, has volunteered to keep an eye on you during your free periods in the library from now on. He will inform me in the future if you do not show."

Harry gaped at him. "You're just gonna ignore my question? You just expect me to get on with my reading like a good boy?"

"I'm glad you're managing to keep up."

"Fine," Harry snapped, reaching down to tug his bag back onto his shoulder and turning to leave.

"Potter," Snape sighed and tried to stop him with a hand on his shoulder. But Harry didn't feel particularly welcome to being touched right now, even by Snape, so he shrugged him off even as he turned back to face him again.

"You may come and see me this evening after dinner and we will discuss it."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Off with you now. Jones is expecting you, but do not distract him, get on with your own reading."

"Yes, sir."

Snape nodded and Harry took his cue and darted off before the Potions Master could change his mind and take it back.

He slipped between the doors of the library, scanning the room for the seventh year that he hoped he would vaguely recognise.

As he took his seat across from the rather stern looking Ravenclaw, he couldn’t quite hide his disbelief that he'd been able to wear Snape down and get his way for once.

***

"Mate, you're still alive!" Ron exclaimed as Harry caught up with his friends some time later as they made their way back to the Tower to chill before dinner. "How much trouble are you in?"

"Uhh, not too much, actually. No Quidditch for two weeks." He shrugged.

"Ouch," Ron winced in sympathy. "Oliver is gonna kill you."

"I know. He probably will. It's a good job we don't have a match anytime soon. I'm more worried about what Lupin is gonna think of me. He knows I lied to him about asking Snape. I know he does."

"I'm sure he won't think badly of you," Hermione said sympathetically as they turned a corner. "It just shows how much you wanted to be in his class."

"I dunno, you didn't see his face," Harry said miserably. "Ugh, why does it feel so much worse when they're disappointed with you rather than just angry."

"It's because you're a people pleaser, Harry," Hermione said matter of factly.

"I am not!"

"Yeah, mate. You kinda are." Ron chimed in.

"Woah, you make it sound like the two of you have talked about this before."

"Maybe we have," Hermione said primly. Ron just shrugged sheepishly. "Anyway, sorry our plan didn't work," Hermione continued. "How did he know where you were?"

"Er, I actually don't know. I forgot to ask that. But, get this, there is a reason he doesn't want me in class with Professor Lupin. That's more than just him wanting to be the one to teach me Defense."

"What?" they both asked in unison.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "He said he'd talk about it with me tonight, though. After dinner. I knew there was something he wasn't telling me."

"That is intriguing," Hermione mused. "I wonder what it could be."

"No idea. But we'll know soon enough."

"If he doesn't swear you to secrecy that is," Ron pointed out.

"Oh, he's usually fine with me keeping you guys in the loop." Harry assured him, just as they arrived at the portrait hole.

"Wait, I've just had an idea," Hermione said, stopping suddenly. Harry frowned and looked at his friend closely, there was a definite glint in her eye. "You guys go in without me. I might be back before you leave for the Hall, or I'll just meet you there."

"Where are you-" Harry began, but Hermione had already flounced off down the corridor.

"Probably the library, mate," Ron answered Harry's unfinished question as they both stepped through into the common room. "Where else does she disappear off to all the time?"

Just as the two boys were considering leaving for dinner and meeting Hermione in the Great Hall as she'd suggested, the portrait hole swung open and she stepped through hurriedly, scanning the common room eagerly to find them.

"Over here, 'Mione," Ron raised his hand to catch her attention. "Ready to go?" he asked as she reached them.

"No," she gasped, breathing heavily, holding her side as she bent over slightly.

"Are you alright? Did you run the whole way here?" Ron laughed.

"No I didn't run," she denied, still a little breathless. "That's against the rules, Ronald. But I did walk as quickly as I could."

"We could have just met you in the Great Hall like you said. You didn't have to run, sorry walk quickly, all the way up here."

"Don't you want to know what I found out?" she asked impatiently.

"Found out about what?" Ron said, getting exasperated now. "We don't even know what you were up to. Or where you were."

"I was in the library. Researching Professor Lupin."

"You went to the library to find out stuff about...Professor Lupin?" Ron asked, a deep frown creasing his forehead.

"Yes, to see if I could find a reason why Professor Snape doesn't want Professor Lupin teaching Harry."

"The library won't have the answer to everything, 'Mione," Ron said slowly, almost like he was speaking to a toddler. "No matter how much you want it to."

"Well, what is it?" Harry ignored Ron, clearly he was wrong and she'd found something.

"Okay, so it might not be the actual reason. But I did find something interesting."

"And?" both boys said at the same time. Ron was happy to play along for now.

"Can we sit down?" she pleaded.

Harry practically dragged his friends over to an unoccupied sofa, eager to hear what Hermione had to say. "Go on," he prompted, once they were settled.

"Well," she began, "I wasn't really sure where to start. But then I had a hunch that Professor Lupin had most likely studied at Hogwarts as a student so I had this idea to look through the old year books and maybe that would tell me what he'd gone on to do after he'd graduated which might give some sort of clue as to why Professor Snape seemed unwilling to allow him to teach Harry. But actually-"

"Hermione, can you please just get to the point." Harry begged.

"Fine. Professor Lupin and Harry's dad went to school together," she blurted out. "There's pictures of them together in the year book. I think they were friends, even," she finished succinctly.

Ron's mouth dropped open. But for Harry something clicked into place.

"Oh, my god," he said. "That's where I've seen him before! He's in that album of pictures that Hagrid gave me. The one that has photos of my parents. I'm sure there's a group picture and he's in it. I knew I'd seen him before."

"Okay, that is a bit weird to think about," Ron allowed. "Your dad was friends with our teacher. But why would that mean Snape wouldn't want Lupin to teach him?"

"Well, okay, there's more," Hermione admitted. "Are you ready to hear this?"

Harry squinted at his friend, wondering where this was going.

"He was in the same year book. Professor Snape was, I mean. I think he also was at school with your dad. And Professor Lupin. In the same year."

"Snape?" Ron laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, there's no way. He's gotta be waaay older than Lupin and Harry's dad."

"I don't think he is, Ron," Hermione replied, but her eyes were fixed on Harry who had gone completely still. "Harry? You okay?"

"Is that why- do you think-," Harry shivered hard. He felt as though the world had shifted slightly on its axis. He felt off balance. Unhinged. "That's why he hated me on sight," he managed to get out. "He must have hated my dad and everyone says I look so much like him so of course I reminded him of- of him. Oh god," he clapped a hand to his mouth in horror, "Snape was my dad's Draco Malfoy. He has to have been."

"I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Harry," Hermione tried her best to soothe him.

"Why did he never tell me?" Harry ignored his friend's attempt to calm him. He felt his hands start to shake. "We've been talking for months now. Surely that should have come up. He should have told me. God, I feel so stupid."

"You're not stupid, mate."

"I really don't think you need to be getting so worked up about this, Harry."

"I'm not!" he tried to argue. But he cringed at how that sounded, even to his own ears. "But clearly that's why Snape doesn't want me near Lupin, right? Because he hated my dad and his friends at school."

"Like I said, you're jumping to conclusions. There could be a number of reasons!" Hermione tried to rationalise with him. "It's hardly likely to be because of a school boy grudge that he's kept all this time."

"You don't know Snape like I do," Harry snorted, but there was no humour in it.

"What are you gonna do?" Ron asked.

"I'm gonna speak to him."

"What, now!? Didn't he say to wait until after dinner?" Hermione said.

"No, I don't mean Snape. I'm gonna go and find Professor Lupin."

And before either of his friends could stop him, Harry bounded to his feet and raced out of the common room in search of answers.

Chapter Text

Just before he reached the Defense classroom, Harry briefly considered the fact that Lupin might not be there, given the hour of the evening. But just as he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open for him.

"Hello?" Lupin's voice floated down through the door of the maisonette office that had also swung open.

"I was going to knock, I promise!" Harry called in. "You can go, Dobby," he whispered to the elf, who obeyed instantly.

"Is that you, Harry?" Lupin appeared in the doorway, looking puzzled but not angry and began to descend the stairs to the classroom.

"Yes, sir. I- uh, it's something Lock- Professor Lockhart set up. He always said I never had to knock or whatever. That his door was always open to me. Literally. I guess he didn't take it off when he left."

"That is... highly unusual."

"Yeah it was weird," Harry agreed. "Can we talk?" He edged forward a little so he was over the threshold.

"I'm not sure that's-,"

"I know you knew my dad," Harry spoke over him.

Lupin's mouth dropped open. "May I ask how?" he eventually asked once he’d recovered.

"Hermione found your yearbook in the library." Harry said.

"I see."

"Sorry, I know it's rude to barge in here, but I just found out. And I have so many questions. And I'm sorry I lied to you before. About asking Professor Snape if I could come to your lessons. I knew he'd say no but I didn't think he'd find out. At least not that quickly."

Lupin had halted his approach when Harry had begun to rattle off his jumbled thoughts.

"I think you'd better come and sit down. No-" he stopped Harry in his tracks as he made to reach for the door handle, "leave the door open, please."

"Uh, okay," Harry shrugged easily, and followed his teacher as he retreated back into the classroom to sit at his desk.

Now that he was sat in front of the professor, someone who'd known his dad- been friends with him even, he couldn't quite form the words to ask him anything.

"Where would you like to begin, Harry?" Lupin asked him gently.

"Uh, I'm not... sure," he finished lamely. "Sorry, I've just never met anyone who was friends with my dad before. Who knew him. Does that mean- did you know my mum too?"

"Not as well as I knew your father, but yes- I knew her."

"Wow," Harry breathed. "No one's ever- ever talked to me about them, really."

"Surely the relatives you grew up with spoke of them?"

Harry snorted. "Good one."

Lupin frowned and Harry realised he'd have to quickly change the subject if he didn't want Lupin asking follow up questions.

"Why won't Professor Snape let me in your lessons? Was it something that happened while you were at school?"

Harry watched as Lupin's face paled.

"Right, yeah, Hermione sort of figured out you and my dad were both at school with him as well. But it can't be something that happened at school, right? Something else must have happened?"

"I know you don't want to hear this, but it is rather complicated, Harry."

"Well yeah, I didn't expect it to be simple. Nothing is."

Lupin gave him an odd look again. "Is everything... alright?"

"Huh?" Harry cocked his head. "Oh, you mean with me? Well, that's complicated too, sir." He tried not to seem smug at his response.

A faint smile crossed Lupin's face. "Fair enough."

"I mean Snape said he's gonna tell me anyway."

"Tell you what?"

"Why I'm not allowed in your lessons. He said we'd discuss it after dinner."

"Did he now?" Lupin quirked an eyebrow.

"I mean, yeah, I'm surprised too," Harry shifted self-consciously in his chair. "Normally he just tells me to drop it and I have to put up with it. So... it was something that happened at school? Was my dad involved maybe?"

"If Professor Snape is going to tell you, why seek me out first?"

"Well he can be a bit... misleading sometimes. So if I have answers from both of you maybe I’ll be able to piece together the whole story."

"Very astute of you."

Harry smiled. "So...? Can you tell me?"

"You are partly right, something happened whilst we were at school," Lupin paused, obviously considering carefully what he was going to say. "I have a certain... affliction. It was uncontrollable in my youth, and Professor Snape very nearly suffered the result of that whilst we were at school."

"Can you tell me what?"

"Now, Harry," Lupin said gently, "I wouldn't expect you to spill your deepest secrets to me just yet, hm."

Harry flushed sheepishly. "Sorry, that was rude of me to ask. But how come you're fine now?"

"There is a potion that has been invented in the interim that keeps me and everyone around me safe." Lupin assured him.

"But Professor Snape doesn't agree?"

"I think you're best asking him yourself what he thinks."

Harry sighed heavily. "Yeah, okay. But would it be okay if we talk sometimes? And you can tell me about my parents?"

"Harry," the man looked pained, "it is my understanding that you and Professor Snape have some type of arrangement?"

"Yeah, he's sort of in charge of me. But what has that got to do with it?"

"Quite a lot, actually."

"I'll talk to him," Harry rushed to say. "He can't still be mad about something that happened at school. He can't keep you from me. From the only person I know who knew my parents."

"Like I said, it is not that simple."

"Why not!" he exclaimed, but very quickly managed to rein in his temper as he processed the look of surprise on Lupin's face. "Sorry, I don't mean to yell," he muttered, scrunching his eyes closed and scrubbing at them with his fists.

"It's alright, I know this can't be easy."

"Did they hate each other?" he lowered his fists. "Snape and my dad."

"They didn't get along, no," Lupin said evasively.

"He hated me too, to start with. I think it's because I look just like him, at least everyone says I do."

"There is quite a striking resemblance," Lupin agreed. "But you do look a fair amount like your mother, too."

"Yeah, someone told me I have her eyes."

"You do have Lily's eyes, yes. But that's not all. I see her around your nose too, and your smile."

Harry's eyes involuntarily welled up. "No one's- no one's ever told me that before. God, sorry." He rubbed his eyes. He wasn't about to start crying in front of one of his dad's mates. That was just too embarrassing.

"Please don't apologise, it is completely alright."

Harry sniffled loudly. "But I really am sorry for lying to you earlier though. I don't want you to think I'm like that, I'm not, I hate lying. But I just had a feeling I'd seen you somewhere before and everyone was raving about your lessons so I didn't want to miss out. And well, it turns out I was right. About having seen you before and that your lessons are really good." A stray tear escaped down his cheek and he swiped it away hastily. "Sorry, you must think I'm a total basket case."

"I don't think that at all, Harry," Lupin assured him. "But may I ask where have you seen me before?" he questioned.

"Hagrid, y'know the Groundskeeper?" Lupin nodded. "Well, he gave me a photo album with pictures of my parents in it. And there's a picture of you and my dad."

"I would quite like to see that," Lupin said, almost to himself.

"Yeah, of course, I can show you anytime."

"Hm," Lupin said, noncommittally.

"Okay, I think I might go and bother Professor Snape now."

This, Lupin actually chuckled at, but he sobered pretty quickly. "Just remember that he is the one with the authority here. You must respect his wishes- even if you don't agree with them."

"But I can't just not get to know you! Not now that I know you knew my parents. Unless you do-don't want to get to know me." He dropped his gaze.

"Harry, look at me please, of course I want that. But is not my decision to make, and it might not be yours either."

"He can't choose who I can and can't speak to," he said moodily, crossing his arms. "That's insane."

Lupin just smiled kindly at him. "Go and speak with him, Harry. He might change his mind if he knows how you feel."

***

Harry didn't feel much like going to the Great Hall and eating dinner. He felt like having an argument with Severus Snape. So even though he knew his teacher would be angry when he realised he'd not made an appearance at dinner, when he stepped out of the Defense classroom and called Dobby, he headed straight for the dungeons anyway.

There was no answer when Harry knocked on the Potions Master's office or classroom door. Glancing up and down the corridor and seeing no one, he decided to take a chance and wandered a little further down to where he knew the portrait that concealed the entrance to Snape's personal quarters hung.

The throne pictured in the painting was empty just like last time, and Harry absentmindedly wondered who was meant to be there. The little snake perked up when it saw Harry though, lifting its head sleepily.

"Hello," he said, feeling incredibly stupid as soon as the word was out of his mouth.

But to his immense surprise- he got a reply.

"Greetingssss."

Harry's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Can you understand me?" he asked incredulously.

The snake nodded slightly. Harry could not believe his eyes. "Yesss." Or his ears. Dobby began to tug insistently on his trouser leg.

"Wow. That's cool. I was just wondering who normally sits on the throne with you." He shook Dobby off, glancing down at the elf in annoyance. "Stop it," he hissed.

"My massster," the snake answered.

"And who's-"

"Potter!"

Damn, that was much quicker than he’d been expecting. He’d have to ask if his teacher had a tracker on him or something because this was getting creepy.

"Crap, gotta go! Bye!" He turned in the direction of his teacher's voice.

"What part of 'after dinner' did you not understand?" Snape demanded as he strode towards him.

"I wanted to speak with you now," he said, wringing his hands in front of him. "I didn't feel like going to the Great Hall. I thought I could just order something from the kitchens as we talked." Now that Snape was in front of him he'd seemed to have lost his nerve when it came to confronting him.

"What has happened?" Snape asked, cutting straight through Harry's discomfort.

"Nothing." Harry shrugged. "Well, nothing really."

"Always so specific, Potter," Snape muttered. "Come in, then."

Snape seemed to have given up trying to keep Harry out of his personal quarters entirely. It still didn't happen that often, but Harry was always thankful whenever it did. His teacher's living room was just so much more comfortable than his office.

"At the table," Snape instructed brusquely.

"Yes, sir," Harry breathed, with a mock salute behind the man's back as he obeyed and headed towards the kitchenette.

Harry watched as Snape threw some floo powder into the fireplace, stuck his head into the green flames briefly, and almost before his head reappeared- dinner had arrived.

"Where are the kitchens?" Harry asked, as he tucked into the steaming bowl of chili con carne.

"In the basement."

"Cool."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to talk with your mouth full?" Snape sighed as he walked off. The man hadn't sat down with Harry, but instead disappeared down the hallway into what Harry had come to learn was the man's office. Or his private office. Because apparently he needed a public and a private one.

So Harry ate his dinner in silence, and gulped his pumpkin juice to wash it down.

He headed to the sofa when he was finished, and obviously he couldn't do anything without Snape knowing about it because the man's head appeared from around the doorframe, "I'll be just a moment, Potter."

"S'fine," he called back.

True to his word, Snape was striding back towards him a few minutes later, he'd removed his billowing teaching robe though, so he didn't look quite so imposing.

"You knew my dad," Harry blurted out for the second time that evening, and before he completely lost his nerve.

Snape stopped in his tracks before he reached the sitting room. "Where did you hear that?" he asked carefully after a moment's pause.

"Hermione found your yearbook in the library. You were in the same year."

"And how did Miss. Granger manage to stumble across that particular artifact?"

"She was just doing some research," Harry said evasively.

"Hm." Snape's reply was equally hard to interpret as he sat in his usual armchair.

"Don't you think you should have told me?" Harry pressed.

"What purpose would that have served?"

"I dunno! It just feels like a big thing that I didn't know. Like, I was shocked when Hermione told me. I felt really weird. Like something big had changed. But I don't know what."

Snape considered him carefully as he relaxed ever so slightly back into his armchair. "I take it you have deduced the fact we were not particularly cordial with one another."

Harry squirmed. "I kind of figured because of the whole Gryffindor vs. Slytherin thing. Is that why you hated me to start with? Because I look just like him."

"I didn't hate you, Potter," Snape insisted.

"S'not what it felt like," Harry muttered.

"Would you like to discuss what you really came down here for?"

A brief pause. "I went to see Professor Lupin," Harry admitted and he watched as Snape stiffened. "Right before I came here. He told me- told me that something happened while you were all at school."

"Did he now?"

"Funny, that's exactly the words he used when I said you were going to tell me why you wouldn't let me in his class."

"What else did he tell you?" Snape demanded, clearly not finding the humour in it.

"Uhh, just that he had some uncontrollable, uh, affliction, he called it, when he was at school but now a potion makes him safe to be around. And that you got caught up in that at school. But he didn't tell me exactly what it was."

"And?"

Harry shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Not much else. I mean, except for the fact that he wants to get to know me. If you'll allow it. He was very clear on the fact that it's your decision as my....whatever you are to me. But he's the only person I've met who was friends with my dad. And sort of my mum too, he said." Harry missed the dark look that passed across his teacher's face at the mention of Lily Potter, he was too distracted with getting his feelings across. "So I just think it would be really good if I could speak to him about them. I don't know anything about them, really. And he knows loads."

"Potter-" Snape began, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

"What?" Harry said a little impatiently. "Why are you trying to keep me from him? It's not fair. I've finally found this connection to my parents and you're keeping me from it."

"I am trying to keep you safe."

"Okay, well, what about literally every other student in this school. Are they in danger?"

Snape said nothing.

"Are you trying to punish him for what he did to you at school? Because that's not really fair on me if you are."

"Is that what he said?" Snape snarled.

Harry recoiled slightly. "N-no," he stuttered. "He just said I should talk to you about it because he couldn't speak for you," he said, feeling defensive now.

Snape ran both hands through his hair this time. Harry got the distinct impression the man was incredibly stressed about something. Or maybe a number of things. And he really didn't want to add to that if he could help it.

"I'm not gonna switch over to talking to him instead, if that's- if that's what you were worried about."

"I'll remind you for a second time today, Potter- you need not concern yourself with protecting my ego. It is not that fragile."

"Okay, well I just thought I'd say it. Because it's true. I don't know him. But he knew my parents. And I desperately want to know them too. No one's ever told me I look like my mother before, I mean- Mr Ollivander said I have her eyes, but that's it. Professor Lupin told me I have her smile too."

Snape once again said nothing and Harry couldn't even slightly tell what he was thinking.

"I do not want you to feel as though I am keeping you from knowing your parents. But you must realise that my number one priority is keeping you safe."

"But surely you know how the potion he takes works," Harry countered. "So you'd know if I was in any danger from him."

"It is not just his affliction I am concerned with."

"Okay what else then?"

"I am not going to discuss the various pitfalls of Remus Lupin with you at this time, Potter. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Right," Harry said, thinking that sounded a bit harsh. "So what then, am I allowed to see him or not?"

"I have not yet decided. Give me some time to consider the matter. But for now- I would rather you stay away."

"I can do that." Harry promised. "For now."

Snape nodded tightly.

"Wow, we didn't even really argue," Harry thought to point out, feeling much more at ease now that conversation was out of the way for the time being. "I really thought you'd be angry at me for going to see him."

"I'm not pleased."

"Yeah, well you didn't get shouty angry."

"I could rectify that if you would you prefer?"

"God, no," Harry laughed, but then he turned serious. "Thank you, sir, for saying you'll think about it and not just saying no."

"I am not actively trying to make your life miserable, Potter," Snape said, getting to his feet and gesturing for Harry to do the same. "I have my reasons for why I restrict you from certain things whilst at the same time enforcing others. I am not going to grant you what you want merely because you have asked it of me- my decision will be based on what I think is best." Snape walked him to the door. "So do prepare yourself for disappointment, it might still come."

Chapter Text

For what felt like the first time in a long time, Harry did as he was told. He made sure to sit with Barnaby Jones during his free periods and did his best not to nag Snape for any update on whether he had made a decision. But as the days turned into a week, Harry's best efforts to be patient soon wore out.

"Have you had a chance to think about Professor Lupin?" he finally asked at the end of one of their Defense lessons as he watched Snape flourishing his wand to return the desks back to their regular positions.

Snape glanced over his shoulder at the boy. "I have been considering the matter, Potter," he said. "But I have not yet reached a conclusion."

"Okay, do you know when you will?" Harry needled.

"I couldn't possibly say."

Harry sighed deeply, and only just refrained from rolling his eyes. "Fine," he bit out around clenched teeth.

Snape turned around fully this time and levelled his gaze at Harry "I know you are keen for a solution but this is not a decision I am making lightly."

"Yeah, but I don't see why that means it's taking weeks and weeks."

"You are being hyperbolic. It has been only a single week."

Harry couldn't contain his frustration. "Yeah, and you haven't said a single thing about it!"

"Do not raise your voice at me, Mr. Potter. I am willing to have a discussion with you but only if you remain respectful."

"Sorry," he muttered sullenly.

"You are dismissed," Snape said airily.

"You said we would discuss it!"

"If you could remain respectful. Which your attitude nor your tone is demonstrating. So off you go."

"Whatever," he breathed, as he stalked towards the door.

He half expected Snape to call him back and yell at him for his attitude but no such summons came so he called for Dobby as he stepped out into the corridor and went on his way.

***

"Severus," Lupin said in greeting, his voice full of surprise as he opened to door to discover Severus Snape on the doorstep of his office.

"We need to talk."

"Of course, come in." He stepped aside so the Potions Master could sweep into the room. As Snape looked around, he imagined the room looked quite different than it had a few weeks ago. The numerous portraits of the disgraced Defense teacher that Potter had described were certainly gone. The room was light and airy- a contrast to Snape's own, much darker office and living quarters. The furniture was worn- but his gaze was drawn towards a very large tank in the corner of the room.

Lupin followed his gaze. "Ah, yes, a grindylow. For my third years."

"Fascinating," Snape said, but his tone did not match his word choice.

"Can I offer you a drink of-,"

"This is not a social call."

"Alright. Shall we sit at least?"

Snape nodded tightly and sat gingerly on one of the shabby sofas.

"I think I can guess why you're here, Severus," Lupin began as he sat down opposite.

"I don't doubt that."

"I just have to say- I didn't provide Harry with any information. It seems to me he and his friends are very resourceful."

"There's no need to cover your tracks. He said as much to me."

Lupin nodded in relief. "Right. I understand the two of you have some sort of arrangement. And I respect that."

"I do not require your approval, Lupin," Snape sneered.

"Oh I know-," Lupin held up his hands. "I know. That's not what I meant at all. I just mean you don't have to worry about me going against whatever it is you decide is best for him. Albus assured me he fully supports your dealings with Harry and that is good enough for me. But I'm sure you'll understand I am keen to get to know him if you allow it- I just hope that doesn't work against me."

"You think because you want it I will deny it?"

"Something like that, yes," Lupin admitted quietly.

"I'm not in the habit of denying what I think is best for the boy based on my own personal feelings in the matter."

"I have to admit- I suspected Harry wasn't being truthful with me when he said you'd agreed he could come to my lessons. I already knew your position on the matter and did not think that it would have changed that quickly. I should have turned him away- I just found myself unable to do that."

"That is precisely the reason I do not trust you, Lupin," there was a snarl in the Potions Master's voice. "You may think it is because of my prejudice against what you are but it goes far beyond that. You do not act based on the information presented to you. You act in the best interest of yourself. You knew I had not approved- you didn't just suspect, and yet you completely disregarded that and went against what you knew to be my wishes."

Lupin at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself. "I don't know what to say apart from it won't happen again, Severus. As hard as it may be, I will respect whatever you decide."

Snape let silence hang for a long time before speaking again. "I cannot deny the fact you present a unique learning experience for him when it comes to his father. As much as I loathe the man, Potter has a right to know him if he wishes."

Lupin nodded slowly.

"That being said- I cannot allow you unfettered access to him."

"I'm not asking for that," Lupin said quickly.

"He will continue to take his Defense lessons with me, but you may speak with him outside of class in the presence of another. Once a week at the most. I'm sure Minerva would be happy to assist you in that regard. I'm sure she has a few stories of her own she can tell the boy."

"Thank you, Severus."

"Do not thank me," Snape dismissed immediately. "I am not doing this for you."

"I know that, but I'm grateful all the same."

"Speak to Minerva," Snape said, getting to his feet. "And one of you inform me of the time and place. I will speak with Potter."

And without so much as a goodbye, Snape got to his feet and stalked out of the room.

***

The very next day, Harry dragged himself down to the dungeons for his weekly chat with Snape. He was still harbouring feelings of annoyance towards his teacher because of his refusal to make a decision about Professor Lupin. But in addition to that, he was feeling a tiredness beyond what he usually experienced from the general busyness of the term. His night had been severely disrupted by nightmares. Something that happened fairly often, but last night had been particularly bad. The combination of these two things was making Harry feel wary of how this meeting was going to play out.

"Come in, Mr. Potter," Harry received his usual summons when he knocked on the office door.

Harry pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold. "How'd you always know it's me?" he said as he made his way towards the desk.

"Your knock is always the same," Snape explained, looking up from a roll of parchment, "and combined with the fact that I am expecting you, it rather gives it away."

Harry said nothing as he sat down but rubbed at his tired eyes so he wasn't looking at his teacher when a slight frown passed across his face.

"I'll start by saying I have spoken with Professor Lupin." This seemed to grab the boy's attention as his head snapped up and his eyes became wide with expectation. Which is exactly the reaction Snape had been banking on. "I am going to allow you to speak with him, once a week. That is a maximum not minimum requirement. And under strict supervision."

"With you there?" Harry questioned.

"Not me, no. Most likely Professor McGonagall."

"Alright," Harry agreed with a shrug.

Another frown from the Potions Master. "I must admit, I expected a little more enthusiasm from you given the ways in which you have pestered me for an answer over the past week."

Harry shrugged again.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Harry insisted. "I'm just tired, that's all."

Snape eyed him closely before coming to a decision. "Up you get, Potter. Let's go."

Confused, Harry did as he was told and followed Snape as he swept around from his side of the desk and ushered Harry out and down the corridor.

It clicked for Harry as they stopped in front of the portrait that concealed his professor's personal quarters. However, this time there was a man sitting on the throne that had sat empty the other times Harry had seen it.

"Good evening, Severus," the man said silkily

"Salazar," Snape greeted as he tapped his wand against the frame.

Harry only caught a glimpse of the man before the portrait swung open but he could swear he'd been smirking straight at him.

"Who is that?" Harry asked when the two of them had stepped through.

"Go and sit down," Snape simply said as he carried on walking towards the fireplace, tossing some powder into it.

Harry quickly sank down into what he now considered 'his seat' on the sofa and looked expectantly at his teacher when he turned back to face him.

"That is Salazar Slytherin. One of the school's founders. And my house's namesake." Snape sank into his armchair.

"He looks a bit scary. But I was speaking to the sn-," Harry interrupted himself with the biggest yawn.

"Cover your mouth, Potter," Snape bristled. "Merlin, were you raised in a barn?"

"Something like that," Harry said under his breath. But apparently not quietly enough for Severus Bat-hearing Snape.

The Potions Master froze. "My apologies, that was thoughtless of me, Potter, I-"

It was Snape's turn to be interrupted, but this time by a tray of steaming mugs that shimmered into existence on top of the coffee table.

"S'fine," Harry said quietly.

"No, it isn't. Take this," Snape leaned forward to pass Harry a steaming mug.

"Thanks," Harry grasped it gingerly, catching a waft of hot chocolate as he brought it closer. He was grateful for something to do with his hands. He couldn't believe what he'd just admitted. It wasn't the full truth but it wasn't miles off. He took a sip and immediately felt himself relax and sink a little further into the cushions.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Snape asked as he took a sip from his own mug. Harry wondered if his teacher was drinking hot chocolate too.

"Do we have to?" Harry asked, after a pause.

"No, we don't," Snape said carefully. "But I could detect something was bothering you in my office so would you rather discuss that? The reason you are feeling excessively tired this evening, perhaps."

Harry finally looked up from his mug. He couldn't distinguish his professor's expression. He just wished he was a little better at being able to tell what he was thinking.

"I had a nightmare," Harry said.

"I see."

"I mean- I have them quite a lot," he admitted. "But last night was bad. I haven't had one that bad since- uh, since right after the philosopher's stone stuff last year probably."

"Define 'quite a lot', if you would."

"I dunno," Harry shrugged. "Like, once a week, maybe. But they're normally fine and I can go back to sleep after. But this one was...bad. So yeah, I didn't really get back to sleep afterwards."

"What did this nightmare entail?" Snape probed.

"A bit of everything. My relatives, the voice, Quirrell dying." He finished with a shrug.

"What made this one different from the others?"

Instead of answering straight away, Harry toed off his shoes and tucked his feet up under him. He glanced up at Snape but the man seemed to have no objection to shoeless feet on his upholstery.

"I dunno," Harry repeated. "It just felt more real. Ron had to wake me up from it- he said I was shouting in my sleep. I couldn't see the others because all their curtains were drawn but I know I woke them all up as well. Don't you have a potion or something that can stop them?" Harry thought to ask.

"There is such a thing, yes. Dreamless Sleep curbs all dreams, as the name suggests, as well as nightmares. But it is not recommended for long term use due to its addictive properties. I think we might be better tackling yours some other way."

"There's a potion that gets rid of nightmares and you won't give it to me?" Harry said, outrage colouring his tone.

"It doesn't get rid of them, Potter. It merely suppresses them. If you relied on it for an extended period of time and then stopped taking it and hadn't taken any steps to deal with them any other way then they will come right back. Along with a number of unpleasant withdrawal symptoms. It is not a tenable solution in your case."

"Can't I just take it for a bit though?" Harry begged.

"No, you may not."

"So what else can I do?" What kind of Potions Master didn't have a potion solution to every problem?

"I know you don't believe it yet, but sharing your experiences and feelings can help make extraordinary progress towards healing."

"I am healed," Harry argued.

"I mean emotionally and mentally, Potter, not just physically."

"You do think I'm mental!" Harry accused.

"Calm yourself, child. You are deliberately misunderstanding me."

"No, I'm not."

"While you may be close to physically healed from all you have endured, you certainly still carry the emotional scars from the abuse you have suffered, evidenced by the fact you are having nightmares about it. They will take much longer to heal."

"I haven't been abused," Harry denied immediately, his expression going blank.

"I do not think you are helping yourself by denying it any longer, Potter," Snape said calmly.

"You don't know anything."

"I know a great deal more than you think," Snape continued in the same calm tone.

"Stop it!" Harry's heart was beating very fast and he felt cold all over despite the warmth that the hot chocolate had produced.

"I don't mean to push you before you are ready to talk about it but there is no sense in you denying it outright any longer."

Instead of replying, Harry slammed down his mug, a little harder than he'd been meaning to, and the porcelain cracked against the coffee table, the dregs of his hot chocolate trickling out and beginning to drip onto the floor.

"Sorry-," Harry immediately began to apologise, leaning forward and reaching out to try and catch the drips as they began to soak into the carpet. But out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape whip out his wand and he flinched back, screwing his eyes tightly closed as he held his breath.

"Open your eyes, Potter," Snape instructed after a few moments, uncharacteristically gently.

Harry shook his head as he felt his cheeks heating up, the embarrassment of his overreaction was overwhelming.

"Okay, take a breath then."

Harry dragged in some air.

“Again,” Snape instructed. "Slower."

Harry complied and eventually managed a few deep, even breaths.

"Very good."

Harry cracked one eye open. The little pile of broken mug pieces had vanished and there was no sign of a chocolate stain on the carpet.

"God," Harry breathed. "I'm sorry."

Snape shook his head tightly. "Do not apologise. But I am not above using this as a learning exercise. Do you see what I mean about emotional scars?"

Harry shook his head, unwilling to play along.

"I have never, and will never, raise a hand or wand to you, but you flinched, and often do when touched, despite my previous reassurances on the matter. You are conditioned to react that way when you feel threatened, as though you are expecting a physical punishment."

Harry's shoulders stiffened. "What am I supposed to do then? I'm not doing it on purpose."

"I know- that's why it's called a reaction. A response that you have no control over at this time. Your body is tuned to respond that way because of your previous experiences. And my aim is to minimise that. Eradicate it entirely, if possible."

"And how are you going to do that?" Harry clenched his jaw in anticipation of his teacher's solution.

"Well, most of the work will be on your end. I'm quite serious when I say sharing what you have been through will help immensely."

Harry scowled. "You really think so?"

"I really do."

"I don't flinch when you touch me anymore. And we haven't talked about anything yet really. So what if I don't like other people touching me? I'm allowed to feel that way."

"Certainly you are. But do you react that way simply because you don't like it or is it because your body is anticipating a negative encounter to touch at all times?"

"What does it matter? I just said it's not all the time anyway."

"Besides me."

"I just don't like it. Big deal."

Snape seemed to accept that Harry wasn't going to say anymore on the subject so he pivoted topics. "What did you mean when you said you weren't far off being raised in a barn?"

Harry blanched but then held himself incredibly still. Unnaturally so. "I can't... I don't want to talk about that."

"That very reaction is exactly what I am trying to help you to overcome. The mere mention of your relatives and their treatment of you should not elicit such fear from you. And I don't mean to make it sound as though I blame you for your reaction- merely that I wish to help you control it."

"They kept me in a cupboard under the stairs. That was my bedroom." Harry blurted out before he could stop and think. He got hastily to his feet. "There. Are you happy now? I've given you what you want. What Dumbledore wants. You can run off and share it with him now."

Harry scrambled away and headed for the door. He should have predicted that it wouldn't open for him.

“I want to leave now,” Harry said without turning around as he continually tried yanking at the door.

“I know." Severus answered, his tone remarkably steady. "But I don't think it's a good idea to allow you to leave when you're this upset."

“I'm not upset. I didn't mean it. Forget what I said.”

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Potter."

“Can you- not,” Harry pressed his forehead into the wood, gasping for air. This reaction caused Snape to rise from his seat and Harry sensed as he crouched down beside him. He tried desperately to crush down the emotions he was feeling. The anger, the embarrassment, the fear. But it was all too much- and soon hot tears were spilling down his cheeks.

"Potter." He heard a soft voice right by his ear. "Harry." And he instinctively turned towards the only person who had ever comforted him when he’d felt like this, the person who had just used his given name for the first time ever. He reached out and was welcomed into a strong pair of arms where he finally felt safe enough to really fall apart.

Chapter Text

"Breathe, child." Snape spoke softly to the distraught boy in his arms.

He wasn't used to this. No one ever sought him out for this. His Slytherins were brought up to show no weakness, so very rarely did they seek out any sort of physical comfort from him- even those who had been in a similar position to the child currently clinging to him.

He was surprised to find he didn't mind it, and he made his own breathing slow and deliberate so that Potter might match him, whilst he kept a steady hand on the child's back with the other resting gently at the nape of his neck.

A cupboard under the stairs? As a bedroom? Merlin. He would need a few more details but that sentence alone conjured up a grim picture of Potter's life at Privet Drive.

A few minutes passed before Snape felt the boy begin to stir and he lifted his hands away so Potter could step away if he wanted to.

Harry sniffed loudly and swiped at his nose with his robe, smiling weakly at the fleeting look of disgust he received from his teacher at the action.

"Sorry for blubbering all over you like a baby," Harry said, making a show of pushing his fringe out of his eyes when he was really trying to wipe at his red rimmed eyes.

"I fully expect this to be an emotional experience for you, Potter, you need not apologise."

"You called me Harry earlier."

"That is your name, is it not?" Snape said, getting to his feet.

"Yeah, but now you've switched back to Potter."

"Also your name."

Harry scrunched his nose. Maybe it wasn't a big deal. But it had felt like it at the time. Now that his teacher had stepped away and his arms weren't wrapped around him anymore he began to shiver slightly at the loss of warmth. "I didn't really want to leave," he quickly mumbled. After that outpouring of emotion he didn't much feel like being on his own.

"I was hardly going to let you, you're not even wearing your shoes."

Harry glanced down at his socked feet. "Oh, yeah. Oops. Well is it okay if I uh, stay a bit longer?" He wrapped his own arms around himself in an attempt to stop his shivers but also to replicate the feeling of being held. It wasn't nearly the same.

"Go and sit down back down," Snape ran a tired hand through his hair as he watched the boy pad back over to the sofa and sink into the cushions. He'd also noticed that Potter had begun to shiver, so he flicked his wand as he followed him back to the sitting area and summoned a thick, woolly blanket from a large trunk in the corner of the room. He passed it over and Harry gratefully accepted it, tucking it around himself immediately.

"How do you feel now that you have been able to reveal some particulars of your home life to me?"

Harry closed his eyes and tightened the blanket around him, only just managing to resist pulling it completely over his head. It felt like a protective barrier between him and the outside world. He hadn't really expected Snape to drop the topic, but that didn't mean he was eager to continue talking about it.

"Err, I still want to take it back and for you to forget you heard it. But I know that's not going to happen."

Snape inclined his head in a show of agreement.

"What are you going to do about it?" Harry asked, not quite meeting his teacher's eyes.

"What would you like me to do about it?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, not really willing to think too much about it. "Nothing."

"Then that is what I shall do."

"So then what is the point in this?" He frowned. "If you're not going to turn up on their doorstep or anything."

"Do you feel better for having shared with me?"

Harry considered it for a second. "Not right away. But yeah, maybe a bit now."

"Then that is the point. I am not encouraging you to confide in me in order to seek retribution on your behalf, despite how satisfying that may be."

"I just don't get what the big deal is about talking about it."

Snape leant forward in his chair, clasping his hands together. "You just admitted you feel better for having done so."

"I'm not explaining what I mean properly," Harry rubbed at his eyes with his balled up fists. His earlier emotional outburst had left him feeling even more depleted.

"Try," Snape prompted.

"Okay, so yeah, maybe talking about it helps a bit, but if we're not going to do anything about it, anything about them, then what's the point?"

"Wouldn't you like to eradicate their presence from your nightmares?"

"Well, yeah." Harry admitted, chewing at his lip.

"And wouldn't you like to learn to welcome a casual touch from a friend?" Snape continued.

"I guess."

"And be able to have them come up in conversation without your heart beginning to race and-?"

"Woah, wait a second, how'd you know about that?"

"Because I can see you start to panic whenever they are mentioned. It is written all over your face."

Harry frowned deeply, considering this. "Yeah, fine, I see your point. Or your many points."

"Then we have plenty to work on that does not include direct retaliation. I know you are resistant to talk about all you have been through, but I hope now that you have found the courage to start it will be easier to continue, and eventually you will see the benefit and the reasons why I have been so consistent in my insistence that you share what you have experienced at the hands of your aunt and uncle."

Harry let out a long breath, almost like he was trying his best to expel every last bit of air out of his lungs. He'd felt trapped before, cornered into revealing what he had. But Snape's reaction had surprised him. He hadn't pried for more details, he seemed content to hear whatever it was Harry had been willing to share. He hadn't yelled at him, or run off immediately to tattle to Dumbledore. He'd just held him as he wept and asked him how it'd made him feel. And right now, he didn't even seem to mind that Harry wasn't saying anything at all. He was allowed to sit quietly with his thoughts and puzzle it out himself. And yeah, he did actually feel a tiny better now that one of his best kept secrets wasn't clutched so tightly to his chest.

"They really hated me," he said quietly. "I don't know if I did something when I was really young that upset them or something. But I don't remember if I did. I just remember they never treated me the same way as Dudley, my cousin. He got whatever he wanted and I got, well, nothing. I always had to do chores and he never had to do anything." Maybe Snape was right. Maybe now he'd started it was easier to keep talking.

"And can you recognise now how inappropriate their actions were? That you should never have been subjected to such behaviour?"

"Well yeah, I realised pretty quickly that it wasn't right. But there wasn't much I could do about it."

"Can you tell me how it made you feel?"

"Bad," Harry said at once. "Like I was taking up too much space. Wanting too much. Needing too much." Harry started to feel the beginnings of unease bubble in his stomach at the amount of stuff he was revealing and he burrowed a little into himself, pulling the blanket around even tighter.

"I'm starting to see where your reluctance to ask for help has come from."

Harry shrugged as much as he was able to within his blanket straight jacket. "I ask you for help."

"Now you do. Occasionally. As you've learnt I can be trusted to provide it when you ask for it. But your fool's errand of last year could have been avoided if you'd sought out assistance."

"We did!" Harry immediately rebutted. "We went straight to Professor Dumbledore when we'd figured it out but he'd already been lured away!"

"Professor Dumbledore is not the be all and end all of assistance at this school. There's any number of other teachers who you could have turned to."

"I know," Harry grumbled. "But we had no time. It was fine in the end. We stopped Voldemort getting what he wanted."

Harry missed Snape's shudder at the name as he was too busy reliving the memories of last year in his head.

"You ending up in the hospital wing is not how I'd classify 'fine in the end'."

"You know what I mean," Harry rolled his eyes.

Snape was silent for a long moment and Harry took the opportunity to begin to slide ever so slightly to his right, stretching his legs out from under him as he did so. He glanced at Snape's face to see if his teacher was watching. And of course he was.

"You're not falling asleep here," Snape warned.

"I wasn't gonna," he denied.

"Your eyelids are already drooping, Potter."

"Are not." But even as he said this, his eyelids fluttered closed and he could't find the strength to force them open again.

"If you've had enough for the evening you need not fall asleep to avoid it you may just say so."

When he got no response, Snape rose out of his seat to shake the child awake.

"What did I say, Potter? Wake up."

Harry tried weakly to push the hand off his shoulder and to his surprise it complied and the hand disappeared.

But just as he was settling down again with a small, satisfied smile, the woolly blanket was also snatched away and the cocoon of warmth he'd cultivated along with it.

"Up. Shoes on," Snape ordered. He didn't sound angry, just exasperated. "I'll escort you back to your common room."

"This is so unfair," Harry grumbled to himself as he heaved himself back into a more upright position and leaned down to grab his shoes from where he'd abandoned them earlier on the carpet.

When he was all laced up, he looked expectantly up at his teacher. He was more awake now that the chill of the dungeons had returned.

"If you have trouble sleeping tonight because of nightmares or something else you may send Dobby to me and I will send him back with something for you."

"You'll give me a Dreamless Sleep?"

"I have a few other things in mind to try first before we get there," Snape said carefully.

"Why don't you just give it to me now?"

"You may not need it."

"I probably will."

"Then you will send for Dobby and you will have it." Snape said, a tone of finality in his voice.

"Alright," Harry conceded. He knew when he wasn't going to win.

The two of them strode along the dimly lit corridors, it had gotten pretty late and most students were already ensconced in their common rooms so they didn't encounter much of anyone along the way.

That was until they rounded a particularly dark corner and after a few steps, Snape came to an abrupt halt. An icy breeze blew down the corridor and Harry shivered hard as he glanced up at his professor questioningly. But Snape wasn't looking at him, his eyes were fixed on something down the corridor. And when Harry followed his gaze he became even more confused.

"What the...?" he trailed off as he attempted to take a step closer, the darkness of the corridor wasn't allowing him to fully see what he was looking at. But he could just about make out the outline of something, or someone, lying on the ground.

"Stay put, Potter," Snape snapped, grabbing hold of his elbow and pulling him back.

"What is it?" he asked. "Who is it?"

When Snape let him go and made to move closer, Harry followed.

"I said stay put," Snape stressed, turning to grab hold of him again and manoeuvring him to stand with his back up against the wall of the corridor. The cold of the stones seeped through his jumper immediately. "Do not move. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," Harry managed to whisper. He was starting to feel a little panicky, his heart beating what felt like a drum roll against his ribs. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness he was sure it was a person he could see lying on the ground.

Snape gave him a stern look before he released him and stepped away, heading down the corridor.

Harry craned his neck so he could watch whilst still staying against the wall as the Potions Master crouched down beside the figure. The man only paused for a moment before he flourished his wand and Harry watched in awe as a small deer shot out of the end of it and galloped straight for him. He inhaled sharply- too stunned to do anything else, but it sped past him, its ethereal light illuminating its path.

Harry was too busy watching the deer that he was startled when Snape appeared in front of him again.

"Dobby," the man said, and as usual the house-elf popped into existence. "Escort Mr. Potter back to the Tower."

"What!" Harry complained. His immediate outrage outweighing his brewing panic. "No way! Who is that? And what was that deer?"

"You'll have to take the long way," Snape was still addressing the house-elf. "The east corridors."

"Yes, Master. Come along, Master Potter." Dobby made to grab Harry to drag him away.

"No!" Harry sidestepped Dobby's tiny outstretched hand, glaring at his teacher.

"Do as I have said, Mr. Potter." The man's voice sounded chilling and Harry shivered but he didn't care. He was determined to know what was going on.

"Who is that?" he demanded.

"This has nothing to do with you," Snape bit out.

"How do you know that!?"

"What I know is that I have asked you to do something and I expect to be obeyed. Now is not the time to defy me."

"I just want to know what's going on!"

"Dobby," Snape said firmly. "Take him. Now."

And this time the house-elf did not miss. He caught Harry's arm in a surprisingly vice-like grip and he had no choice but to stumble along beside him or he'd fall over. He glanced back over his shoulder, wanting to make his annoyance known, but Snape had already moved away again to stand closer to the figure.

"Master Potter should really do as Master Snape is saying," Dobby chastised him a few moments later.

"Thought you'd be on my side," Harry muttered, his arm still held firmly in the house-elf's grip.

"Dobby is not having sides. Dobby is obeying the wizard hierarchy."

"Fantastic."

After they'd turned a few corners, making their way towards the other end of the castle, Harry tried to shake Dobby off him.

"You can let go now, y'know. I won't go back."

The house-elf complied and Harry considered making a run for it for a fleeting moment, but the look of displeasure on the Potions Master's face as Harry refused to obey swam clearly in his memory. He was so dead the next time he saw him.

"Do you know what happened, Dobby?" he thought to ask.

"Dobby is not knowing. But Dobby is sensing something bad."

"Yeah, you and me both."

"Bad things is happening at Hogwarts," the house-elf continued.

"What kind of things? Is this linked to the voice I've been hearing?" Harry paused. Did his ban on talking about that subject extend to Dobby? He must have known a little about it already having rescued Harry from that situation before.

"Dobby is not saying. But Harry Potter should be being careful." Dobby's gaze was intense, his eyes wide with concern.

"That sounds a bit creepy, Dobby," Harry said.

"Master Harry should be going home."

"Home?" Harry questioned, suddenly alarmed. "Hogwarts is my home. There's no way I'm going back to Privet Drive ever again."

"You is being safer there."

"Nope," Harry said. "There's no way. Snape said I didn't have to go back."

"You is maybe not having a choice."

Harry blinked in shock. "What do you mean, Dobby? What are you talking about?"

But the house-elf would say nothing further, no matter how much Harry needled him for more information and all too soon they arrived at the portrait hole and Dobby bid him goodnight. Harry stepped through into the common room, immediately seeking out his friends. Partly so he could fill them in on what he'd seen but also because he wanted a distraction from what Dobby had been saying.

There was no way he was going back to Privet Drive. If this latest thing was linked to the voice, Snape and Dumbledore would figure it out. They had to. He wasn't going to leave Hogwarts, that was ridiculous.

As he lay in bed that night, Harry just could not switch off his brain. Ron and Hermione had not been able to help him come up with a theory about what he'd seen and his mind was turning over and over trying to puzzle it out in the darkness. When the soft snores of his dormmates became too much while he himself felt too wired to sleep, he pushed himself into a sitting position against his pillows and whispered for Dobby.

"Will you go and ask Snape for a potion? He'll know what I mean."

"Of course, Master Harry."

When the house-elf returned a few minutes later he was holding a single dose vial. Harry accepted it from his outstretched hand, thanking him quietly just before he disappeared.

Harry uncorked the vial and inspected the tag that Snape must have added just for him. It didn't denote what the potion was, but in his spidery handwriting the Potions Master had reiterated his earlier comment:

Nothing to do with you. Go to sleep.

Harry rolled his eyes in the darkness, even with the whole castle between them Snape found a way to order him around. Seeing no other option, he uncorked the vial and drank it down, trusting that it would help.

Chapter Text

Despite the fact that Harry didn't have a clue what had happened last night and he'd been there, a number of details had managed to spread around the school by the next morning.

The name Colin Creevey was bandied around the Gryffindor table at breakfast and eventually the full story reached the trio.

"Y'know Creevey? Colin Creevey?" Fred Weasley asked. "The tiny first year who always walks around with a camera in his hand?" he clarified at the blank looks on their faces.

"Right, yeah, he's always trying to take pictures of me," Harry said. "But we don't know him. At least I don't." He looked at his friends but they both mirrored his sentiment.

"Well, turns out he was petrified last night. Same as Mrs. Norris was."

"So what, he's unconscious?" Ron asked.

"No, Ronnikins, he's petrified." George rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

"Don't call me that," Ron hissed. "Mum said you had to stop."

"He even had his camera with him, but he didn't manage to get a picture of the attacker," Fred continued.

"What does that mean, then?" Hermione asked.

"Who knows," George shrugged. "But he's not waking up anytime soon to give us any more information. But the word on the street is you were there too, young Harold."

Harry spluttered as he'd just taken a sip of pumpkin juice. "How do people-?" he slumped. "I wasn't really there. I didn't see anything. I didn't even know any of that that you just told us."

"The Hogwarts rumour mill is a thing of legend," Fred said mock-seriously. "There's no escaping it."

Harry caught whispered snatches of his name as he moved about the castle for the next few days. Clearly Fred was right, the student body had somehow gotten wind of the fact he'd been there that night. But it wasn't fair! He hadn't done anything. He hadn't even really seen anything, Snape had made sure of that. And yet still he was tangled up in it. Just his luck. The three of them had gotten some looks the day after Mrs. Norris' attack, but that had faded pretty quickly. But now that it had happened again, and Harry was once again somehow involved, he doubted everyone would be so quick to forget about it. Especially when most people hadn't even been that fond of Mrs. Norris. And especially when certain people were going out of their way to make the whole thing worse.

"Give Potter a wide berth!" Pansy Parkinson called out as she and a crowd of second year Slytherins encountered Harry and his friends in the corridor that afternoon. "You never know when he's going to strike again! He's attacking students now! Not just pets."

A fair few people in the busy corridor glanced around and actually took care to avoid coming too close to Harry. A gaggle of first years even turned around and ran back the way they had come.

"Shove off, Parkinson," Ron called after them as they passed. But Harry knew it wasn't really Pansy Parkinson who was behind it. Malfoy was standing just behind her, and he'd been smirking hugely. He was just too scared of Snape to actually get directly involved with anything to do with Harry.

"It's fine, Ron, leave it," Harry muttered to his friend.

"It's insane! As if anyone thinks you actually have anything to do with it."

But even as Ron said this, more and more students were stepping far out of Harry's path and looking resolutely at the ground as they passed him.

***

Harry wasn't going to let the actions of a few people ruin his excitement for his first upcoming chat with Professor Lupin. Snape had informed him that day that it had all been arranged, and Harry just had to show up to Professor McGonagall's office straight after dinner.

But he'd wanted desperately to show his teacher the photo album that Hagrid had given him and as he hadn't wanted to risk it getting spilled on at the dinner-table, he'd sprinted out of the Great Hall after he'd shovelled down his steak pie and mashed potato and dashed back up to his dormitory to fetch it. So by the time he was knocking on the door of the Transfiguration office he was red in the face and breathing hard.

"Goodness, Potter, where is the fire?" McGonagall was immediately concerned upon opening the door.

Harry waved away her concerns. "No-nowhere, Professor. Just had to run up to the dorms to grab this." He held up the red album so she could see what he was talking about. "Photos that Hagrid gave me. I thought Professor Lupin might like to see them too."

She relaxed immediately. "A lovely idea, now come in. I won't get in your way, but I'll just be at my desk."

Harry stepped into the office and caught sight of Lupin who was already seated in one of the armchairs that was angled towards the fireplace. Harry thought he looked nervous, the flicker of the flames on his face illuminating his slightly uncertain expression.

Lupin seemed to snap out of whatever trance he'd been in when he noticed Harry's arrival and stood up, smiling warmly. "Come and sit down, Harry. Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, please," Harry said as he dropped into the second armchair.

"I often enjoy a peppermint tea after dinner, how does that sound?"

"Yeah, that sounds great."

Lupin busied himself with putting the order through to the kitchens after ascertaining that McGonagall didn't want anything. And only a few moments later the two of them were sat face to face, a couple of steaming mugs of tea between them.

"So, Harry, where do we begin?"

"I brought my photo album," he offered the book out to Lupin.

Lupin took it and opened it without a word at first. Harry watched the man's face as he flipped through-he seemed a millions times easier to read than Snape was, Harry thought. He could read a number of emotions as they flicked across this face- happiness, sadness, longing, the more prominent ones.

"This is...quite something, Harry," Lupin said when he looked up.

"Yeah, I know, I keep it super safe. I never really take it out of my trunk unless I'm looking at it and I always put it right back. And at Privet Drive I would hide it under the floorboards."

Lupin frowned. "Why would you need to do that?"

"Oh uhh," Harry scrambled for a reason. "I just like to keep it away," he shrugged to make it seem like no big deal. "I don't want it getting ruined."

"I might have a few you can add to this, would you like that?"

"I would love that," Harry said sincerely.

"I'll see what I can dig out and bring them next time."

Harry beamed, grateful he'd managed to escape any further questioning.

The rest of their chat was filled with Lupin regaling Harry with stories from his father's time at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall tittered disapprovingly at a few of the more colourful stories that involved a fair amount of rule breaking. But Harry could tell she wasn't really angry about it.

"Don't be giving the boy any ideas now, Professor Lupin," she said jokingly.

Harry just sniggered but Lupin did look alarmed for a moment.

"You mustn't emulate these, Harry, okay?"

"Cross my heart," Harry promised, smiling hugely.

"I think that is all we have time for, gentlemen," McGonagall announced about half an hour later. "It's time you headed to bed, Mr. Potter."

"Yes ma'am," Harry got to his feet, his photo album clutched tightly to his chest. "Thank you so much for doing this, sir."

"No thanks are necessary, Harry. It is my pleasure."

"Well, good night."

Harry backed out of the room and the two adults were left alone. Lupin turned to McGonagall where she was still sitting at her desk.

"Minerva, what on earth is going on in that child's home?" he asked.

McGonagall eyed him carefully. "That is a question for Severus I should think."

"I know they have some sort of understanding but I really am struggling to believe it."

"I assure you, Severus is good for him. Great for him, even. I have seen a drastic improvement in Potter in only a few months."

"Improvement in what?"

"I can't discuss this with you, Remus," she said gently. "Ask Severus, or leave it be. Just trust that he is in good hands."

***

Harry awoke with a gasp. He clutched tightly at his bedsheets in the dim light, desperate to ground himself in reality. After a few shuddering breaths he pushed himself into a sitting position, pulling his blankets with him so they still covered his shoulders but he continued to tremble despite his cocoon of warmth.

He'd dreamt that he'd been the one that had attacked Colin, just like the Slytherins had been saying. Harry had snuck up on him in the corridor and just as the boy had turned around and raised his camera to snap a picture, he'd crumpled to the ground, motionless.

Harry swallowed hard and tried to quell his racing thoughts. It had felt so real.

"How are you sleeping?" Snape inquired that same evening.

Harry blinked. Snape had an uncanny knack of cutting right to the heart of the issue that was most plaguing him. "Uh, a bit better, I guess." He stretched out his legs along Snape's sofa. More often than not these days they took their sessions in Snape's quarters. It gave Harry a strange sense of satisfaction. Or was it the beginning of belonging?

"Can you elaborate? You haven't asked for a sleeping aid since the first time."

"What was it you gave me anyway?" Harry tried his best at deflection.

"A modified sleeping aid," Snape readily explained. "Something to induce both drowsiness and relaxation. A combination that is likely to encourage a peaceful rest."

"Oh, okay. It's not like a placebo or anything is it?"

Harry was a little annoyed that Snape had the audacity to look so surprised at his question.

"Now why would you think I would do that?" Snape eventually asked.

Harry bit his lip. "I dunno, just seems like maybe something you'd do. As you said you wouldn't give me Dreamless Sleep."

"I explained why I wouldn't be giving you that potion. There is no need to jump straight to the most extreme solution when there are other, milder avenues we can explore first. I am trying to find a long term solution for you. Not a quick fix that will not benefit you in the long run."

"I'm fine with the quick fix," Harry mumbled.

"You just said you were sleeping better, is that not the case?" Snape leaned forward to study him more closely.

Harry shrugged, although he knew the conversation was unavoidable.

"Potter," Snape prompted, his tone neutral.

"I had a dream it was me who attacked Colin."

Snape settled back in his seat. "I see."

"You see." Harry pushed himself up so he wasn't lounging so much anymore. "I just told you I feel like I attacked someone and that's all you have to say?"

"Potter, you were with me during the time of the attack, so calm yourself. It cannot have been you."

Harry did deflate slightly at that. "All the Slytherins think it was me," he complained anyway.

"I highly doubt all of them think that," Snape countered.

"The loud ones do," he grumbled. "And that's who counts. It's like they've turned most of the first years against me now. They're terrified of me. Even some of the Gryffindors."

"So perhaps their taunting is what is infiltrating your dreams?" Snape suggested.

"Yeah, maybe."

"I suggest you do your best to ignore it. The more you react the more likely they are to continue provoking you. I will have a word with some of my prefects in the meantime."

"No! Please don't. You'll just make it worse," Harry instantly insisted, not really stopping to consider how that would sound.

"Oh, will I?"

Harry scrunched his nose and changed the subject. "How's Colin?"

"Stable," Snape said after a slight pause.

"But Madam Pomfrey can't cure him?"

"To heal the petrified an exceedingly complex potion needs to be brewed using the mature Mandrake plant. Professor Sprout's Mandrakes are not yet sufficiently mature."

"So you're just waiting around for some plants to mature."

"An oversimplification but if you wish to put it like that, then yes."

"Why can't you just buy some mature ones from somewhere?" It seemed so simple to Harry. Surely there was a spell that could speed the process along?

"It is not feasible to transport mandrakes when they are beyond the seedling stage, hence they have to reach maturity in situ. And we cannot simply harvest the plant material from another region and transport what we need to Hogwarts as their magical potency decreases drastically when they're not fresh and they cannot be preserved to keep their freshness. And so we are restricted to waiting on what Professor Sprout already has growing."

"So how long will it take, do you think?"

"It is hard to say. A few months at least."

"Months!" Harry's mouth was hanging open. "At least. I really don't think people will stop avoiding me until Colin is awake again."

"Seeing as there's not anything you can do about that, and you refuse to allow me to step in, I'll refer to my earlier suggestion and urge you to ignore it. Often the novelty wears off and they will get bored of taunting you."

"Not in my experience," Harry muttered, partly to himself. But as usual, nothing got past Snape.

"Would you like to elucidate?"

The specific word gave Harry pause. The first time he'd heard Snape use it had been the first night he'd also heard the mysterious voice. A lot had changed between the two of them since that night. Miraculously for the better. And Harry found that, yeah, he did want to elucidate.

"My cousin, he uh, he taunted me- has taunted me basically all my life. He's never seemed to get bored of it."

Snape remained silent, allowing Harry to share at his own pace. The silence didn't feel awkward, it felt safe. And so eventually he continued.

"He and his stupid friends would chase me. Or try and find me. They called it Harry Hunting. They didn't often catch me, they were slow and I learned to be fast. But the few times they did," Harry took a deep breath, "well there were five of them and only one of me so I'm sure you can imagine-," Harry trailed off unwilling to describe the memory in detail out loud. "My Uncle didn't seem to care. Dudley was never punished for it, but if I ever managed to get away from them by doing something weird- I guess I was using accidental magic, well, then I was really in for it. And Dudley and his friends always told on me. So I'd often get sent to my cupboard without food, or Uncle Vernon would whack me with whatever he had to hand."

Harry kept his eyes closed after this long admission and attempted to sink further into the cushions of the sofa. But still Snape didn't speak.

"It got worse in the summer, when I went home after first year," he continued. "I mean, they gave me Dudley's second bedroom, so I don't actually always sleep in the cupboard anymore, unless one of them shoved me in there. But obviously Dudley was so angry that he had to give up his room even though he never used it and it was just full of broken stuff he never played with. But also he and his friends hadn't been able to play their favourite game for a year so practically every day I had to do my best to stay out of their way but that was kinda hard when I was uh, locked in my room sometimes. And there were bars on the window. I almost thought they weren't going to let me come back this year but I heard them one night saying that they were worried someone might have come looking for me if I didn't show up."

Harry looked more fully at his teacher, clearly craving confirmation which Snape picked up on straight away.

"Undoubtedly your absence would have been noted almost instantly and an exhaustive attempt would have been made to locate you."

Harry nodded, "yeah, okay. That's ah, good to hear, I guess."

After his reply, Harry settled into silence. The familiar feeling of being wrung out had begun to sink in and he didn't think he'd be able to say much more of anything. Which again, Snape seemed to realise. Dark eyes studied him intently but they didn't prompt him to continue.

"Your efforts to communicate your experiences this evening are to be commended, Potter. You have done very well."

Even in his current state of emotional turmoil Harry couldn't help but offer a small smile in return for the praise coming from the notoriously stringent Potions Master.

"I take it you have had enough for the evening?"

Harry nodded his head slowly, still unwilling to say anything out loud.

"Very well. I will escort you back to your dormitory" Snape moved to get to his feet but halted at Harry's reaction.

Harry was frantically shaking his head. He didn't know precisely why, but he really didn't want to leave right now.

"No?"

He shook his head again, slower this time. Snape's gaze intensified as if Harry were a potions problem that he was trying to solve, but when he spoke his voice was softer than before. "Would you like to stay down here a little longer? I can find you something to read, perhaps?"

"Yes, please," Harry managed to croak out.

Snape got to his feet and Harry watched as he stepped over to the overflowing bookshelves. Harry found he didn't mind if Snape gave him some kind of complicated potions text, as long as it meant he could stay down in the dungeons for a bit longer. But he was pleasantly surprised with the book that Snape handed over a few moments later. More than pleasantly actually. He could barely contain his surprise; it was plastered all over his face as he read the title.

Quidditch Through the Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp

"I've heard it said this book is notoriously difficult to get hold of from the library. So I thought it prudent to purchase my own copy should any of my Slytherins ever have need of it. I take it that it will suffice for you now though?"

"Uh, yes, thank you, sir," Harry said without taking his eyes off the book. "This is great."

Snape settled back into his chair, reaching out to grab his own book from where he'd laid it aside when Harry had arrived and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence. But instead of progressing with the latest volume of Asiatic Anti-venoms by Libatius Borage, Snape watched instead as Harry keenly turned the pages of the Quidditch text.

And as he watched on, a strange, unfamiliar feeling began to unfurl in the Potions Master's chest.

Chapter Text

Severus Snape let a full hour pass before he interrupted the pleasant quiet of his dungeon quarters. He cleared his throat pointedly and watched as Potter dragged his eyes away from the page he was reading.

"As it is now past curfew, it is time I return you to your common room," he explained.

Harry nodded in understanding. "Yeah, uh, alright. Thank you for letting me stay for so long, sir."

He waved away the gratitude, but held his hand out and Harry didn't pretend to misunderstand. He handed the book back over, a dejected look on his face, which Snape decided not to comment on as he set it on the coffee table to reshelve when he returned.

The castle was quiet as it was actually fairly substantially past curfew, and once they'd reached the Gryffindor common room, the boy thankfully disappeared inside with minimal fuss.

Snape took an intentional detour back to the dungeons. He had some thoughts that he needed to work through and the long, silent, winding nature of the corridors was the perfect place for just that.

When he'd first agreed to take the boy under his purview he hadn't imagined nights like these.

He'd imagined the occasional conversation, strictly taking place in his office, and knowing the boy as he did from his behaviour in his first year, he thought he'd have to corral him repeatedly into obedience. Certainly he'd imagined emotional outbursts, and they were undeniably present but he had not expected the quiet, even peaceful, evenings in each other's company that had seemingly naturally occurred. And in his private quarters no less.

This was not to mention the tangle of emotions he had begun to feel as more of the child's experiences had been revealed. He had been in the unfortunate position of dealing with a number of child abuse cases over the years, and all had been abhorrent but none had felt so personally affronting and filled him quite with the same distinctive level of rage as this one did.

In fact, the only reason he hadn't turned up on the doorstep of those despicable-

He came to an abrupt halt.

He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn't noticed that someone was leaning against the wall just beside the entrance to his quarters until he was only a few paces away.

"Lupin," he said, with no trace of emotion in his voice.

"Good evening, Severus. I was wondering if we could talk."

"I can't imagine a reason that would be necessary."

"About Harry."

"What about him?" Still Snape's voice betrayed no emotion but his interest was undeniably piqued.

"Must we do this in the corridor?"

"You're expecting me to invite you in?"

Lupin’s face adopted a look like a kicked puppy and Snape rolled his eyes. He tapped the portrait with his wand and stepped through, he hadn't said the words but the invitation was implicit and so Lupin followed him in.

"Please explain what you were doing loitering outside of my door, Lupin, and I don't have long so you'd better get to the point immediately."

"I was coming to speak with you about Harry," Lupin began, "but then I saw the two of you heading towards Gryffindor tower just a few moments ago and so I thought it best to wait outside for you. You were rather longer than I was expecting, I had almost given up waiting."

"You don't seem to be getting to the point, Lupin," Snape snapped impatiently. He didn't like the idea that Lupin had watched them and he hadn't been aware of it.

"I had my first meeting with Harry last night."

"If I have to ask you one more time to get to the point, Lupin, you might find yourself forcibly expelled from these quarters."

"Forgive me if this is taking a little while," Lupin retorted, a touch snidely. "The situation is rather delicate."

Snape marched over to his armchair and sat down, pulling out his wand and twirling it to summon a glass of scotch. He purposefully didn't offer one to his guest.

Lupin took a small liberty and made to sit on the sofa Harry had vacated barely half an hour ago, but he came to a stop when he noticed the Quidditch book still lying on the table. A small smile crossed Lupin's face, causing Snape to follow his gaze and he once again whipped out his wand to send the book flying towards its spot on the shelf, cursing himself for not doing it before he'd left with Potter. He didn't want it to look like he'd gone soft on the boy.

To his credit, the Defense teacher didn't comment on it, but he did look more relaxed as he took Potter's recently vacated seat.

"Harry said a number of worrying things to me the first time we properly spoke. And again during our first scheduled chat. I don't think he fully realised at the time what he was admitting to but they definitely gave me cause for concern."

"And so what is your plan of action here?" Snape pressed.

"I don't want to break his confidence, but like I said, I don't think he realised he was confiding in me at the time. When I brought it up with Minerva she instructed that I drop it or that I should bring it up with you. And so here I am, bringing it up with you."

Snape took a swig of his scotch but didn't provide comment.

"I am aware the two of you have some sort of arrangement. Minerva even spoke to its effectiveness. But I find myself unable to put blind trust in that at the moment."

"You do not trust that I have the situation under control?"

"It's not that, I just felt as though I should inform you that certain concerning things had been said."

"Then give me specifics, Lupin, or get out! Your vague observations are not achieving anything."

Lupin looked a little shocked at the abruptness of Snape's outburst but he recovered quickly.

"It wasn't really anything he said specifically. More the way he spoke about his relatives- that they never spoke of his parents to him. I can't conceive of that. And he mentioned something about nothing ever being simple- what typical twelve year old thinks something like that?"

"I urge you to consider that Potter is not a typical twelve year old. Has never been a typical child of any age, in fact."

"There's something not right about his life with his relatives. He said he hides his photo album underneath his floorboards when he's there. That's not normal."

"I hear you, Lupin. But I urge you to utilise your common sense to conceive of a reason he could possibly have been placed under my purview so that I don't have to explicitly spell it out for you. As then I would be breaking his confidence, something I am wholly against doing. Just know that nothing you have shared has come as a surprise to me."

Remus looked like he had more to say but decided against it at the last moment. "Alright, I'll leave it with you then."

"Do," was all Snape said.

"I'll see myself out. Goodnight, Severus."

Snape tipped his head slightly in Lupin’s direction but didn't move to stand or say anything more. When the Defense teacher had pulled the door closed behind him, Snape immediately knocked back the remainder of scotch in his glass and summoned himself a refill.

***

Harry wasn't fully prepared when the time came for Professor McGonagall to make her rounds collecting names of those who would be staying at the castle over Christmas. He hadn't yet had a chance to discuss it properly with Snape, but he felt confident enough to write his name down. He wouldn't be going to the Dursley's. He was certain of that. He was pleased when Hermione and Ron also put their names down. Anywhere was better than Privet Drive over Christmas, but Hogwarts with his friends was the ultimate win.

The familiar resurgence of McGonagall's Christmas list had the Gryffindors excited for the festive period ahead. They were also thrilled to learn that the promise of a dueling club was to be upheld.

"The first meeting will be tonight," McGonagall announced to a number of excitable squeals, particularly from the younger years. "Eight o'clock this evening in the Great Hall. Attendance is not mandatory."

"Brilliant," Ron said. "I can't wait to kick some Slytherin butt."

"Ronald," Hermione scolded. "I highly doubt that's what we're going to be taught to do."

"Well that's what I'm going to be doing, 'Mione," Ron assured her. "You can play nice with them if you want, but I won't be. Right, Harry?" Ron turned to him for support.

"I, uh, I guess I have to ask Snape if I can go first," Harry explained. "He was totally against it when it was Lockhart in charge, not sure where he'll stand now that Professor Lupin is running it."

"Good point, mate. Well you'd better hurry up and ask, the first meeting is tonight."

"Yeah, I heard that, thanks," Harry tried not to sound sullen but the look on Ron's face said he hadn’t been totally successful. "I'll try and catch him before dinner," Harry smiled quickly. "Hopefully he'll be in."

Luckily, Snape was ensconced in his office when Harry came knocking later that evening.

"Potter. I had a feeling I'd be seeing you," he beckoned him in.

"So you know why I'm here, sir?" Harry sat down on the very edge of the chair he was directed to.

"I can hazard a guess, certainly."

"So can I go?"

"'May' you go?"

"Right." Harry let out a huff of air in annoyance at being corrected. "May I go?"

"Whilst I am pleased that you had the foresight to come to me first and ask for permission, I am going to have to say no on this occasion."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Huh?" He managed to grunt out in surprise.

"The answer is no, Potter," Snape repeated.

"Why?!"

"Because I have said so."

"I can't believe that's your explanation!" Harry was outraged.

"I do not have to explain my reasoning to you, and you'd do well to remember that."

Harry shivered at the man's tone but he was too incensed to back down. "But it's not fair! No one else even has to ask for permission, so why do I?"

"Arguing with me is not going to result in a favourable outcome for you, Potter, so I suggest you accept my decision and take yourself off to dinner."

"Fine," Harry snapped. It had been a while since the two of them had argued this way and Harry had not missed the sizzling feeling of his temper rising.

When he rejoined his friends in the Great Hall he explained what Snape had said.

"Ugh, Snape is such a killjoy," Ron groaned in response.

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered, his bad mood had not abated in his journey from the dungeons to the Great Hall. He set his goblet down hard on the table, the pumpkin juice spilling a little over the side.

"No point getting angry about it," Hermione said diplomatically, reaching over to wipe up the spill with her napkin. "There's nothing to be done."

"I mean you could just come along anyway," Ron suggested quietly to Harry. "How would he even know? It's not like he's going to come along to Lupin's club. You said they hate each other."

"I'm pretty sure it's a one way thing," Harry said. "But you have a point."

"I'm not getting involved in this," Hermione said.

"No one was asking you to," Ron retorted, rolling his eyes.

And so it was with only minimal trepidation that Harry joined a large crowd of students filing into the Great Hall later that evening. He planned to fade into the background as much as he could so as not to draw attention to himself and the sheer number of students would hopefully help with that.

The four house tables had disappeared, replaced with a long raised platform in the centre of the hall around which everyone had begun to gather. Harry and Ron situated themselves near the back, Hermione had refused to stand with them, lest she be accused of aiding and abetting, so she was closer to the front with some of the other Gryffindor second year girls.

A hush fell over the crowd as Professor Lupin entered the hall and walked up onto the raised platform. And to most people's surprise, not least Harry's, Professor Snape was quick to follow behind him.

"Oh shit," Harry breathed in Ron's ear. "I am so dead."

The two boys were too far away from the exit and the crowd was too packed in too tightly for them to be able to make a quick exit.

"Just keep low," Ron whispered back. "There's heaps of people in here, he's never gonna spot you unless you make a scene or something."

"I wish your hair didn't stand out so much," Harry said as he crouched a little. “He’ll pick you out immediately and then one glance over and I’m caught.”

"I'll stay low too," Ron promised, matching Harry's height as best he could.

They got a couple of strange looks from those around them, but Professor Lupin had begun his introduction so everyone's attention was drawn away.

"I'm pleased to see so many of you here," Lupin's soft voice projected effortlessly around the hall. "Perhaps in future we will have to split you all up by year groups, but for the purpose of today I'm afraid the vast majority of you will just have to observe."

"Do you think Lupin and Snape are gonna duel?" Ron whispered excitedly.

"I doubt it," Harry replied. "Why would Professor Lupin agree to that? He'd have to be crazy."

"You haven't seen him in class, mate. I reckon Lupin could hold his own, y'know."

"Shh," an irate fourth year shushed the two of them and they fell silent, content to just watch.

Lupin talked continually as he and Snape moved to stand apart from each other, explaining what the two of them were doing as they were doing it. They turned to face each other, and bowed, before raising their wands out like swords in front of them.

The whole room held their breath as they watched.

"On the count of three, we will both cast our spell," Lupin said. "One...two...three."

Two shouts of Expelliarmus rang out and twin flashes of scarlet light collided in the centre of the dueling platform. Gasps and 'oohs' rang out amongst the students as the light fizzled out.

"I think you get the idea," Professor Lupin said pleasantly. "Who would like to give it a try?"

The two teachers picked a couple of students out of the crowd, Harry didn't recognise them but they looked to be fifth or sixth years and they were from different houses.

This time there wasn't a draw, the Ravenclaw student was slightly ahead of her Hufflepuff counterpart, who was knocked off his feet by the force of the spell directed at him.

"Jolly good," Lupin called out, "next!"

They cycled through a fair number of pairs, Harry and Ron taking great entertainment in betting with each other who was likely to win before the first spell was cast.

And then Draco Malfoy was chosen by Snape and Ron gripped Harry's arm so tightly he was momentarily concerned for his blood circulation.

"Oh, I'm so hoping he gets blasted on his arse," Ron's voice was full of glee. "I hope Lupin picks someone good."

Justin Finch-Fletchley was the one selected from the crowd and Ron audibly groaned. "If only you were allowed to be here, mate, I'd have been pushing you to the front. Justin has no bloody hope."

"On the count of three," Lupin called out. "One..two..."

Most students had been using Expelliarmus but that was certainly not what came out of Draco Malfoy's mouth after the count of two had been delivered.

And instead of the usual jet of red light, a thin, black snake shot out of Malfoy's wand, falling heavily onto the platform with a dull thud. It recovered itself quickly and lifted its head up, coiled and ready to strike. All colour had drained from Justin's face as he hurried to back away, all intention of casting a spell gone.

Screams, particularly from the front row, rang out, and the crowd surged backwards.

The two adult wizards made to intervene when it looked as though Justin wasn't going to make a move to defend himself, but before they could act, a surge of adrenaline had propelled Harry against the retreating crowd, and the students were all too happy to let him through.

He didn't register the moment that Snape laid eyes on him, he was so focused on the snake who was slithering ominously towards the Hufflepuff.

"Leave him," Harry called out. The snake did stop in its tracks but it didn't turn away from Justin. "Don't bite him," Harry instructed further. This time the snake did turn its diamond shaped head to face him, its gaze level.

The entire hall had gone deathly quiet. No one was screaming anymore. No one was even moving.

Snape stepped forward and raised his wand, aiming it at the snake, he muttered a complicated sounding spell and the snake disappeared with a crack.

Now that the threat of the snake had disappeared, Harry expected the mood of the hall to relax, but still the silence rang and the tension was palpable. And it felt different to the tension that had built when Snape and Lupin first had their wands pointed at each other.

Snape stepped down from the raised platform, not taking his eyes off Harry. "Come with me, Mr. Potter," Snape looked thunderous, and he wasn't attempting to hide it. But Harry had no choice but to do as he said and he stepped forward towards his teacher.

As the two of them left the Great Hall, the silence was shattered as shocked whispers broke out among the students.

Harry was confused. The atmosphere had felt...almost hostile. He'd only told the snake to leave Justin alone. He hadn't even been the one to cast the spell, so why had the strange looks been directed at him, not Malfoy?

Snape took hold of Harry's upper arm as he swept them along the corridor. "Sir, I-"

"Not a word, Mr. Potter," Snape said icily.

Oh shit.

Mr. Potter outside of a classroom environment was never a good sign.

"I just- what just happen-"

Snape rounded on him. "I. Said. Not. A. Word."

Harry's breath caught in his throat at the look of fury on Snape's face. He'd royally messed up, he knew that. But he was desperate to understand what else had happened. There was something beyond his deliberate disregard of Snape's instructions, he could tell.

"Can you ju-"

Snape crouched down, gripping both of Harry's upper arms in his large hands, not hard, but firmly. "I need you to stop talking. If you do not stop as I have instructed, you will not have a free moment between now and Christmas, am I understood?" Harry was barely breathing, he was so confused about what was happening a tight knot of anxiety had formed inside him and felt like it was squeezing his lungs. "Am I understood?” Snape urged. “Nod if you understand me."

Tears were welling in his eyes, his confusion was all consuming, but he nodded his head once.

"I'll explain once we get there, there isn't time now." Snape pulled him along again.

When we get where? Harry was desperate to ask, but he managed to keep his mouth shut this time.

Moments later, Harry's rational brain seemed to kick into gear and he recognised the route to the headmaster's office. Snape was taking him to see Professor Dumbledore.

Had he really messed up that badly?

Was Snape passing him off because he didn't want to deal with him anymore?

Snape seemed to sense his return to rationality and also his growing reluctance.

"I'm not foisting you on the headmaster, Potter. So you can stop catastrophising."

Strangely, the Potion Master's biting comments actually helped and the knot in Harry's stomach loosened a little. He still wasn't certain what had happened or what kind of situation he'd managed to get himself into this time. But knowing Snape wasn't about to abandon him in the middle of it, well, that made it a tiny bit more bearable.

Chapter Text

"Severus, Harry," Dumbledore's greeting was warm as Snape steered Harry into a chair upon their admittance to the headmaster's office. Snape didn't sit, and instead began pacing behind Harry's chair. Something Harry wasn't too fond of.

Dumbledore took in Harry's wild eyes and slightly teary appearance and looked questioningly behind him at his Potions Master.

"There was an incident during our first Dueling Club this evening," Snape began to explain. "I fear Potter has been possessed in some way." A long pause followed. "By the Dark Lord."

"Huh?" Harry was so taken aback he didn't even consider panicking as his teacher's words registered. That hadn't been remotely close to what he'd been expecting.

"What happened?" Dumbledore probed.

"Potter was speaking Parseltongue."

"No I wasn't!" Harry denied immediately, twisting around in his chair so he was facing Snape. "I don't even know what that is!"

"It is the name for snake language, Potter. You were speaking to the snake. In its own language."

Harry frowned. "I've spoken to snakes before but not in Parsel...uh...toungue. The one in your portrait- although maybe that one's not real? I dunno. But even before I came to Hogwarts I spoke to one when we went to the zoo for Dudley's birthday. But I just speak normally. In English. And they reply normally too." He turned back around to face Dumbledore, confused about what all the fuss was about. "At least, that's what I hear."

"You didn't think to mention this?" Snape demanded, coming around to stand on the same side of the desk that the headmaster was sitting on. Harry suddenly felt like he was being interrogated with the two grown wizards looking so intensely at him.

"Mention what?"

"The fact you have been holding conversations with snakes?" Snape said.

"I didn't know I had to? I didn't think it was weird- I thought it was a magical thing."

Snape threw his hands up, the word 'hopeless' filtered through his ranting.

"It is certainly a magical thing," Dumbledore said gently, ignoring Snape's outburst. "But there are very few who possess the ability. It is exceedingly uncommon."

"As in- fewer than ten wizards in our history have been able to converse in this way with snakes." Snape cut in.

"And you think that I-?"

"I do not think, Potter. There is no doubt you were speaking Parseltongue. It is unmistakable."

"Okay so what's the big deal?" Harry shrugged.

"The last known Parselmouth was the Dark Lord- hence my initial concern." He directed the latter part of his statement to the headmaster.

"Do you feel unlike yourself, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"No? I feel fine," Harry denied immediately.

"Would you permit me to perform a quick scan, just as a precaution."

"Uh, sure," he shrugged, but held himself a little stiffly in response.

"You shouldn't feel a thing," Dumbledore assured him, getting to his feet and as he produced his wand from his inner pocket. "Just stay still for a moment."

Harry did largely as instructed- he didn't move in his seat, but his eyes flickered over to the Potions Master who had a grim expression on his face, his arms crossed tightly.

Dumbledore came to stand directly in front of him and Harry held his breath in anticipation.

"One moment, Headmaster. Breathe, Potter," Snape instructed dryly, and Harry immediately sucked a shuddery breath in.

"This won't take a jiffy," Dumbledore assured him once more, and once Harry had taken a few more breaths he nodded to show that he was ready.

The headmaster brandished his wand in a swirling motion and a stream of white light flowed out of the end of it that surrounded Harry in a ring. As he'd been told, he felt nothing and as quickly as he'd been surrounded, the light vanished.

"Well done, Harry," Dumbledore intoned as he swept back around the desk to retake his seat.

"Well?" Snape asked impatiently.

"There is no sign that young Harry has been possessed, my boy."

"So it is a complete coincidence that he is a Parselmouth?" Snape scoffed. "I refuse to believe that."

"I wouldn't say it's entirely a coincidence." Dumbledore mused, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on his chin.

Harry felt as though he was being talked about rather than talked to and he cleared his throat in annoyance. This didn't quite have the desired effect as Snape turned to him fully and instead of drawing him into the conversation, he did the exact opposite.

"Floo down to my office, Potter," Snape instructed, gesturing for him to get to his feet.

"What? Are you serious?"

"Now, Potter," Snape continued, grasping him by the upper arm and steering him towards the fireplace.

"Sir!" Harry directed his plea towards Dumbledore, unable to believe he was being kicked out of this conversation right now.

"Do not attempt to undermine my authority, Mr. Potter," Snape said, stepping to the side so he formed a barrier between Harry and the headmaster. "Do as I have instructed. Now." He pushed the floo powder pot under Harry's nose. "I expect to find you sitting quietly in my office when I get there. Do not touch anything."

Harry knew when the battle was lost and grasped a handful of the powder. "So, your office? Not your quart-"

"You heard me," Snape cut him off.

Harry closed his eyes briefly in resignation but threw the powder into the fireplace a moment later and in a flash of green flames he was gone. 

"What could it mean, Albus?" Snape wasted no time asking as he took Harry's recently vacated seat.

"I can think of no other explanation apart from the fact that he has inherited the power from Voldemort," Dumbledore said carefully. "But the fact that it seems not to be a recent acquisition is perhaps a small victory. If Harry claims to have had this ability prior to coming to Hogwarts, then it cannot have been due to what took place at the end of last year nor equally in the interim years between his parents' death and now as they have had no other contact where it would have been possible after that night. My best guess is perhaps it was transferred to him on that very Halloween night."

"The Dark Lord transferred some of his own powers to Potter?" Snape repeated, disbelief colouring his tone.

"It does seem the most likely explanation, my boy."

Snape ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "Merlin," he whispered under his breath. "What's the likelihood that that's all that he transferred? Potter could have a whole number of dark powers we are not yet aware of."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Severus. We shall just have to keep a close eye on him to see if anything else manifests."

"I cannot conceivably keep a closer eye on the boy unless he were to move into my quarters," Snape muttered flippantly but he balked as soon as he caught the expression on the headmaster's face. "Absolutely not, Albus. Do not even do me the disservice of suggesting it."

A small smile was dancing around Dumbledore's lips. "I was not going to suggest it," he said lightly, but his smile did not fade.

Snape scowled but seemed to let it go. "Thank you for your counsel, Albus," he said, getting to his feet and moving towards the fireplace. "I will inform you at once if anything else makes itself known. Good evening."

"Goodnight, Severus."

***

When Snape stepped neatly out of the fireplace and into his office, he observed the position of the boy immediately. He was sat quietly, as directed, but his feet were also placed on the seat, his arms wrapped around his legs with his head pillowed on top of his knees. At the sound of Snape's arrival, he lifted his head and, catching wind of the look of disapproval, dropped his feet to the floor with a dull thud.

Snape said nothing, just took a seat at his desk, and levelled his dark eyes on Harry.

"I'm really, really sorry, sir." Harry was the first one to break the silence, his voice sounding small in the heavy silence.

"For what?" Snape asked pointedly.

Harry hung his head. "For disobeying you and going to the Dueling Club. And speaking to that snake- I didn't know that was wrong- I promise."

"Look at me please," Snape instructed. "I will not converse with the top of your head."

Harry raised his head slowly, cringing at the look of disappointment he could see in his teacher's eyes.

"I am not angry about the snake, Potter. And whilst it concerns me, that is not the primary issue I wish to discuss. Was I not explicitly clear about what I expected of you tonight?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir," Harry corrected quickly. "You were clear."

"And so why did you feel as though you could ignore my instructions and go against a direct order?"

"I thought you wouldn't be there. So you wouldn't... find out," he finished lamely.

"You thought you could get away with it?"

"Yes. Sir," he tacked on hastily.

Snape paused for a moment. Harry hated the sense of foreboding that he was feeling.

"I am extremely disappointed in your actions this evening, Mr. Potter," he said tightly. "Our arrangement here is based hugely on trust. And you have violated that completely tonight."

"I know," Harry said miserably, his eyes beginning to sting with the threat of tears. "I'm sorry. But I uh, can I just say that I signed up to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. I didn't get a chance to ask you about it properly, about where I was gonna go, before Professor McGonagall said she needed names. Is that- is that still okay?"

Snape frowned, but recovered quickly at the change of topic. "Yes, Potter. You don't need to worry about being sent back to your relatives. No amount of misbehaviour will result in that occurrence."

Harry exhaled audibly.

"Say you understand me, please."

"I understand, sir." Harry managed a small smile. He appreciated that even when Snape was clearly angry with him about disobeying him he still went out of his way to be extra clear that Harry knew he wouldn't be sent back to Privet Drive for any reason.

"I didn't forbid you from attending just because I felt like it." Snape said, resuming their previous conversation.

"But when I asked you for a reason you wouldn't give me one! So how was I supposed to know?" Harry reasoned.

"You should know by now that I only have your best interests in mind."

"But if I don't know why, I just- I guess I can't just accept something in blind faith like that. I'm not used to depending on someone that way. Especially if you don't give me a reason. Can't you just tell me why?"

Snape clicked his tongue but didn't hesitate in his explanation. "You have been the victim of a number of attacks this year. I did not envisage that an environment, such as a Dueling Club, where there could be a number of dangerous spells flying around, would be sensible for you to attend. Someone might take advantage of the situation to stage another attempt. So I thought it best for you to avoid that possibility entirely."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh," Snape repeated.

"Well if you'd have told me that I wouldn't have gone!"

"Really?" Snape drawled, disbelievingly.

"Yes!" Harry insisted. "I can see that makes sense now. But it wasn't even like that, it was only two people at a time."

"Yes, but I could not have predicted how Professor Lupin was going to run his little club."

Harry figured if Snape was being snarky then he wasn't all that angry anymore. "You could have just asked him," he pointed out.

"That is not the point," Snape retorted, his tone harsh.

Okay maybe he wasn't completely done being angry yet, Harry thought to himself. "Can we just get to the bit where you tell me what my punishment is going to be?" Harry asked quietly.

Snape eyed him closely. "Extra Potions practicals. On Saturdays."

Harry scrunched his nose in mild disgust. "Every Saturday?" he queried.

"Until at least the end of the term. We shall see how you do. Your practical work could use improvement."

"My marks are fine in the practical stuff!"

"As it goes, I have much higher expectations for you than 'fine'"

"I'll barely have any time to do anything fun," Harry complained.

"This is a punishment, Potter. It is not meant to be an enjoyable experience. It just so happens to have the dual effect of improving your studies at the same time."

"Alright," Harry acquiesced quietly. He knew he deserved it. Deserved worse even for disobeying so blatantly. But it wasn't the actual punishment that he was struggling the most with. It was the fact that he already felt like he spent a lot of time with Snape- between their chats and his Potions and Defense lessons. Adding in these extra practicals, in addition to the fact they were going to be on the weekend, well, Harry feared that the man would eventually get tired of him being around all the time. And then where would Harry be?

"Speak your mind, Potter. I can practically hear the cogs turning."

Harry glanced up, meeting a pair of dark eyes. Was that concern he could see in the older wizard's intense gaze?

"It's just- I don't want to be disturbing your weekend, sir."

Snape leant back in his chair. His voice had lost the hard tone as he responded to Harrys' concern. "There is no need to appear so altruistic, Potter. I already spend most of my Saturday mornings in the classroom. I will not be deviating from my normal routine. Besides, your presence is not a disturbance."

Harry swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. Why was he feeling so emotional at Snape's declaration?

"9 o'clock sharp. I know how you like to sleep in on the weekend, but don't even think of arriving before you've had a satisfactory breakfast, yes?"

Harry pulled himself together enough to answer. "Yes, sir."

"I think it's time you retired for the evening."

"You don't wanna talk about the snake thing?"

"By 'snake thing' you mean your being a Parselmouth?"

"Yeah, that. I didn't know it was bad, I won't do it again if you don't want me to. It really just sounds like English to me. I didn't know it was...dark." Harry's heart had begun to beat uncomfortably fast.

"I'm not angry at you for being a Parselmouth, Potter. That is completely out of your control. And just because it is a dark power does not make you a dark wizard- is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"The headmaster does not think there is an immediate cause for concern. So for now, I don't want you spending any time dwelling on it, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Harry repeated.

"Good. To bed with you then."

Harry got to his feet, but he couldn't quite face leaving just yet. "I really am sorry about disobeying you, sir. I should have known better. I do know better. And it won't happen again."

Snape regarded him closely. "I do not expect you to be perfect, Potter. But I do need to know that I can trust you to do as I say, when I say it. However," he paused for so long that Harry began to shuffle his feet in nervous anticipation, "I shall endeavour to be more upfront with you about my reasoning when I hand you instructions in the future- do you think that will help our situation?"

Harry nodded emphatically. "Yes, sir. It really will."

"Well, then, off you go. You need rest after the commotion of this evening."

"Is this you providing your reasoning?" Harry couldn't help but question.

"Well spotted," Snape smirked, but it was fleeting. "I mean it, Potter. Get some rest."

"I will, sir, promise. Goodnight."

Chapter Text

Rest, however, was not immediately forthcoming when Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower. As he stepped into the common room, a hush descended over the Gryffindors and he felt the weight of numerous pairs of eyes on him.

The looks weren't exactly hostile, but they certainly were not welcoming and Harry felt his anxiety spike sharply until he noticed Hermione winding her way around the maze of sofas to reach him with Ron only a step behind her.

"Let's go somewhere else," she suggested, pulling him back towards the portrait hole.

"Snape said I had to stay," Harry said, resisting against her grip on his arm. That wasn't completely true- he hadn't explicitly said that. But Harry knew that if Snape were to find him outside of the common room this evening he would not be pleased.

"To your dorm then," she changed tact immediately, pulling him through the scattered crowd that were still very much watching him. They looked wary of him, Harry realised.

Hermione didn't let go of his sleeve until she was pushing open the door to the boys' dormitory. "Would you mind leaving for a minute, please?" she asked the other three occupants of the room who were all lounging on their beds.

Neville got up immediately, as did Dean, but Seamus looked affronted at the idea.

"You can't kick us out, Hermione. You're not even supposed to be in here!"

"Shift it, Finnegan," Ron said more forcefully, as he moved further into the room.

"Come on, Seamus," Neville coaxed. "Let's give them five minutes."

"Harry's our friend too! I wanna know what's going on," Seamus complained.

"And I'm sure he'll tell us when he's ready," Dean said.

It was five against one, so Seamus knew when he was beaten. He rolled his eyes as he pushed up from his bed and refused to look at the trio as he swept past, muttering under his breath.

"Thanks, guys," Ron said before he closed the door firmly behind them. "We better be quick," he said, turning back to Harry and Hermione, "you know Seamus will be timing us and be back in five minutes on the dot."

"Why didn't you tell us you were a Parselmouth, Harry?" Hermione asked, getting straight to the point as she sat down on Harry's bed.

"How does everyone seem to know what that is but me?" Harry said resentfully, as he flopped down beside her. "Do you know what that is, Ron?"

"Well, yeah." Ron sat opposite them on his bed, shifting uncomfortably. "It's sort of common knowledge in the Wizarding World."

"Well in the Muggle World we've never heard of it," Harry grumbled. "I didn't know what it was, let alone that I could speak it. I still don't really get what the big deal is, it sounded like I was speaking English to me."

"Really?" Hermione questioned. "That's fascinating. Not much is known about it so there isn't much I've ever come across in any reading."

"Of course you've read about it before," Harry sighed.

"Where did Snape take you?" Ron asked.

"To see Dumbledore. Snape thought I'd been possessed by Voldemort."

Hermione considered this. "Well, he is the last known Parselmouth."

"I know, they both said."

"So have you been?" Ron had gone even more pale than he usually was. "Possessed by...him?"

"I doubt Professor Dumbledore would have let him come back here if that were the case, Ronald," Hermione said exasperatedly.

Ron didn't look fully convinced until Harry confirmed it. "Yeah, Dumbledore did some kind of scan on me and said it wasn't that. But Snape kicked me out before they came up with another explanation. I had to wait in Snape's office until he was done talking with Dumbledore. Then he came and... told me off for being there in the Great Hall in the first place."

"Oh shit, what did he say about you being there? With this whole Parseltongue thing I totally forgot he said you couldn't go. Was he really angry?"

"Kind of. It's hard to explain. I have to do extra Potions practicals on Saturdays until at least the end of term," Harry revealed.

"Grim," Ron said simply. Harry nodded his head in agreement.

"So we need to figure out where this power has come from," Hermione said.

"How are we gonna manage that?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore and Snape didn't even know."

"I thought you said they made you leave before they came up with anything," Hermione said.

"Well, yeah. But Snape would have told me if they knew when he came and talked to me again. At least, I like to think he would have."

"Not if all they had was speculation," Hermione pointed out.

"So if all they have is speculation, what makes you think we can come up with the actual answer?"

"We'll just have to do more research than them," she said simply. "I'll combine it with my Chamber of Secrets research."

"I didn't know you were still researching the Chamber," Ron said.

"Well, I haven't found anything yet," she pointed out. "I was considering asking Professor Lockhart for a pass for the restricted section but that's not a possibility now." She tried her best not to sound too disappointed about getting almost within reach of exploring the tightly controlled part of the library.

"Well, maybe his replacement will tell us something about it?" Harry said. "I could ask Lupin during our next chat?"

"That's a great idea!" Hermione said brightly, thrilled to have another avenue to explore.

With that, the dormitory door burst open, "you've had your five minutes," Seamus announced. "I won't be kept out of my room any longer."

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes as she bade them all a quick goodnight and bustled away down the stone steps towards her own dormitory.

Harry lay awake for a long time that night, unable to fall asleep. He briefly considered summoning Dobby to fetch him a potion from Snape but he didn't want to become overly reliant on whatever it was that Snape was giving him. Even though his teacher had insisted that whatever it was was mild, Harry still felt like it was better not to become dependent on something like that.

When he did eventually drop off, his dreams were full of the sound of hissing.

***

Although the dungeons were just as dank and cold as usual, Harry's first extra Potions practical started off rather well. Snape set him up with the instructions of a potion he'd only just managed to scrape an Acceptable grade on, the Wiggenweld Potion, and left him to it.

They both worked in relative silence, in fact, Harry became so immersed in his brewing he practically forgot his teacher was even there at all. He added his final ingredient, a few drops of Boom Berry juice, and turned the heat of his cauldron down.

The final instruction was a thirty minute simmer. He glanced up at Snape, but the Potions Master looked engrossed in whatever paperwork he was doing, so Harry was content to wait it out without disturbing him. He sat down and pillowed his head on his arms. He nodded off in a matter of minutes.

"...Potter." A hand was shaking his shoulder, and Harry shot up out of his seat.

"Sorry! S-sorry!" he began apologising immediately. He whipped his head around in confusion, what on earth was he doing in the dungeons?

"It's alright, Potter," Snape said calmly, getting up from his crouched position in front of Harry's bench and drawing the boy's gaze to him. "You're serving your extra practicals with me. You fell asleep."

"Oh, that's right," Harry muttered, mainly to himself, as let out a long breath, momentarily displacing his glasses as he rubbed at his eyes. "My potion-,"

"Your potion was fine. Excellent even. Sit back down." Harry sat. "You have not been sleeping?"

Harry blanched. "I have."

Snape sighed. "You have not been getting adequate rest if you are falling asleep a mere two hours after you have risen for the day."

Harry bit his lip. He had been sleeping, it wasn't a lie. Just not very well. Or very much.

"I thought we had an understanding, Potter. If you are struggling at nighttime you are to inform me and I will send something to assist you."

"I'm not struggling."

"No? What would you call it?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, even though he knew Snape would not let it go that easily.

"If you do not let me help you, I will have to defer to Madam Pomfrey."

"What?" Harry gasped, sitting up a little straighter.

"In the interests of informing you of my reasoning as we discussed- sufficient sleep is essential. And if you will not let me help, a medical professional will have to step in."

"It's not a big deal."

"It is," Snape insisted. "You just do not realise it. This is not something I am going to permit you to argue about with me."

"You always make a huge thing out of nothing!" Harry cried.

"Potter," Snape warned. "Watch your tone."

Harry had a split second to make a decision. He could either continue to rant and rave- which usually ended in him not getting his way anyway, or he could take a breath and calm down. Snape was trying to help him after all.

So for once, he chose the latter.

"Sorry," he mumbled, after taking a deep breath.

Snape let him take a few more breaths before he continued. "Good. I will send a vial via Dobby each evening. You will not become reliant on this particular sleeping aid, it is suggestive not inducing. In the meantime, we shall endeavour to unravel whatever it is that is keeping you from getting adequate rest."

"Just like that?" It sounded so easy.

"That's the general idea. Now, would you like to talk about what you think is causing your sleeping difficulties?"

"Not really," Harry admitted.

"Very well. Another time. You are dismissed then."

"Oh," Harry was taken aback by the abrupt dismissal.

"I'm not throwing you out, Potter," Snape assured him as he watched a look of rejection cross the boy's face. "I just assumed you would undoubtedly rather spend the rest of your weekend in frivolous leisure."

"Taking a break isn't frivolous, Professor," Harry recovered quickly to quip cheekily.

"Nevertheless," Snape smirked, "you are free to go."

"Can I just ask when I can have my next chat with Professor Lupin, sir?" Harry asked, even as he stood to leave.

"I will speak with him and inform you," Snape promised, and Harry nodded in understanding. "Run along now."

***

Harry was turning over the phrase 'frivolous leisure' in his mind as he made his way back towards Gryffindor Tower, Dobby trotting along beside him. Snape did say the funniest things sometimes and Harry was positive it wasn't intentional. How weird that he now considered Snape of all people funny.

As it was still relatively early on a Saturday morning, the corridors were largely empty but as the two of them turned a corner Harry's eyes were drawn towards a heap lying in the middle of the passage.

"...no," he whispered. "Not again." He rushed forward, dropping to his knees. He looked off to the side and did a double take. He'd been so focused on the body lying in the middle of the corridor he hadn't even noticed that a ghost was floating just off to the side of the prone figure. It was Nearly Headless Nick, and he did not look good. No longer was he pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, a look of profound shock on his face.

"Dobby," Harry's voice quivered with fear. "Will you get Snape, or Dumbledore, or both of them? Anyone. Please."

Dobby vanished without a sound and Harry was left alone. He turned his focus back to the figure on the floor, he had to know who it was but their robes had billowed up and were obscuring their face. He reached out to grasp the corner of the robes and even through the layers of fabric he could feel a chill emanating from their skin. He pulled as gently as he could and came face to face with Justin Finch-Fletchley, there was a look of shock frozen plastered across his face and his eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling.

Harry scrambled to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow. Was he dead? The others this had happened to, and surely it was the same affliction, had not been. But Harry couldn't imagine a body like this ever coming back to life. He looked so still and so...gone. Like there was no life to be found within him and never would be again.

He looked desperately up and down the deserted corridor willing a teacher to appear.

Eventually his prayers were answered and he heard the familiar shout of the Potions Master.

"Stand back, Potter!" Harry didn't even have a chance to comply before a large hand had closed around his wrist and he was practically dragged away down the corridor.

"Are you alright?" Snape demanded, when he'd manoeuvred them some distance away. Harry's back was against the stone wall and Snape crouched down and boxed him in with his arms either side of his head. "Are you hurt?" Snape's expression was one of open concern as it swept over Harry.

"I'm f-fine!" he managed to croak through his panic. "Justin isn't though. And n-neither is Nick. There's nothing wrong with me, so you can let me go! They need help, not me!" Harry pulled at one of Snape's arms to try and get himself free but it didn't budge. So instead Harry tried pushing at the man's shoulders to push him backwards but his attempts were truly futile- Snape was immeasurably stronger than he was.

"You're making me.. feel.. claustrophobic-" Harry bit out. "Stop crowding me. Please."

Maybe it was the 'please' that someone managed to get through to Snape as he dropped his arms abruptly and stood up, although he didn't take a step back. Harry could now dart out from either side but he figured he'd just be grabbed again so he stayed put.

"Help them. Please," he said shakily.

"There is nothing I can do for them," Snape finally said. "The headmaster is on his way, as is Madam Pomfrey. They will handle the situation."

"What's happening?" Harry said weakly. "It wasn't me, I swear. Why do I keep finding them?"

"Never mind that," Snape said. "Are you able to walk- I'm taking you back to the Tower."

"Never mind!" Harry exploded. "Never mind?!" Was he hearing this right? "Are you insane?! You want me to go and sit quietly in the common room as if nothing has happened? Just leave them here alone?!"

"That's exactly what I want. There is nothing you or I can do for them. Now, you can choose to do that or I can escort you to the infirmary and find something to relax you."

"Drug me, you mean," Harry spat. "And Madam Pomfrey won't even be there, she's coming here you said."

"I am well acquainted with the infirmary stocks seeing as it is I who delivers them."

"You're insane," Harry repeated vehemently. He tried to dodge out from behind Snape, but he barely made it a step before a hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Make your choice, Potter," Snape said ominously. "Or I will make it for you."

Harry stamped down hard on his anger. Snape was impossible to argue with like this. And really what could Harry do for Justin or Nick?

"Fine, the Tower," he eventually relented, his tone anything but gracious. "But let go of me. Please," he managed.

"This way then," Snape steered him away from the two figures by the hold on his shoulder but did as Harry asked and let him go after he'd pushed him to get moving.

"You're really just gonna leave them there?" Harry twisted around but was immediately corrected by Snape.

"Getting moving, Potter. As I've said- Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey will be here in a matter of moments."

Harry finally gave in completely and began walking the long way around to the Tower. But he brooded the whole way, unwilling to engage in any sort of conversation with Snape.

When they reached the portrait hole, Harry muttered the password and made to step through without so much as a backwards glance at Snape, but the Potions Master stopped him with a word.

"Potter."

"What, sir?" he said sullenly, not turning around.

"I'm not sure where this attitude has come from but I expect it to be gone by the time I see you again."

Harry chose to say nothing.

"Look at me, please." Harry half did as he was told, turning so his back was no longer to his teacher, but he didn't quite meet his gaze. "You are to stay put, do you hear me? You do not leave this Tower for anything, unless I or another teacher allows it. Am I understood?"

"What if there's a fire, sir?"

"Potter," Snape growled.

"Yes, I hear you." It took everything in Harry to resist rolling his eyes.

"I am going to make an announcement to the same effect."

"What, in there?" Harry gestured in alarm back into the common room.

"Yes, Potter," Snape said, exasperation tinging his tone.

"You can't walk into the common room with me right beside you and announce there's been another attack! They'll all think I had something to do with it! Most of them still aren't even over the whole Parseltongue thing yet!"

Snape frowned and considered the boy's argument before coming to a quick decision.

"Very well. Go inside and fetch a prefect for me and send them out. I will wait here. But if you can't find someone quickly I will revert to my original plan."

Harry scampered inside without saying anything more, worried Snape would decide he couldn't be bothered to wait any longer and head in anyway. He glanced around hurriedly, the room was quite full due to the weather outside being particularly miserable so it was hard to pinpoint anyone in particular.

He was about to give up hope when he spotted Percy Weasley making his way down from the steps that lead to the dormitories. Never did he think he'd be so happy to see Ron's pompous older brother.

He made a beeline for him and managed to intercept him before he reached his friends.

"Percy," he said, "Professor Snape is just outside and he'd like a word with you."

"With me?" Percy's cheeks coloured in surprise. "Whatever for?"

"Well, not you specifically. He asked for a prefect, so," Harry shrugged, "I think he needs you to make an announcement."

"Right-o," Percy puffed up upon learning he wasn't in trouble with the fearsome teacher and made his way directly outside. Harry let out a sigh of relief and hung about for his return.

A couple of minutes past before Percy clambered back through the portrait hole, his face was grave.

"Listen up, everybody," he called out. Predictably, not everyone heard him over the usual hubbub of the common room.

"Oi, you lot," Fred called out, much louder than his brother had managed. "Shut it for a minute."

"Yes, thank you, Fred," Percy said when the room went quiet, but his face gave away his disapproval at his brother's colourful outburst. "I have an announcement," he paused, "there has been another attack."

Gasps broke out around the room, Percy certainly had everyone's attention now.

"We are all to stay put until Professor McGonagall comes by soon with more information," he continued. "If any of your friends are currently outside of the Tower, do not worry they will be being sent back as we speak."

Sure enough, the portrait hole swung open and a number of Gryffindors filed in. The expression on their faces gave away the fact that they knew already the reason they'd been sent back.

"Who was attacked?" someone called out from the crowd.

"I do not know," Percy replied. "We shall have to wait for our Head of House for any further details."

An uneasy silence settled over the room, broken only by the occasional sound of the portrait hole swinging open and closed, marking the return of more students.

Chapter Text

The Gryffindors didn't have to wait too long for the arrival of their Head of House. Only a few minutes passed before Professor McGonagall was standing in front of them taking in the sea of grave faces, a matching expression on her own face.

"I'm sure you're all aware by now that another attack has taken place," she called out clearly.

"Who was it, Professor?" one brave soul called out.

She pursed her lips at the interruption, but relented immediately. "It was Justin Finch-Fletchley. He is currently under the care of Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing."

A murmur broke out among the students at this information.

"Professor Dumbledore has seen fit to implement some restrictions in the wake of this most recent incident." She waited for the murmuring to peter out completely before continuing. "All students will be restricted to their common rooms unless they are attending lessons, meals or medical appointments."

Reactions broke out again, although this time they were not quite limited to murmuring.

"What about Quidditch!?" Predictably, this was Oliver Wood's first reaction.

"There will be no Quidditch practice. There will be no clubs of any sort for the remainder of this term. And what is more, the Christmas Holidays are being brought forward a week." Everyone was too shocked to protest this further. There were only two weeks left of the term as it was, so this wasn't really a drastic change, but it felt significant anyway. "Additionally, the decision has been made that students will not be permitted to remain at the school over this year's break. If you are one of the few who signed up to stay, do not worry, I will be contacting your parents or guardians to inform them of this change."

Harry felt his blood run ice cold. This couldn't be happening. There was no way he was going back to the Dursley's for Christmas. Snape had said he didn't have to go back, but he'd meant at the end of the school year. They'd both assumed Harry would stay at school during the Christmas and Easter holidays. What if Snape couldn't find somewhere for him at such short notice? And god he'd just acted like such a whiny baby towards the man he probably didn't feel like bothering to sort out his placement anyway.

Once the Head of Gryffindor House had departed, the common room erupted with noise. It was a mixture of emotions- many were lamenting their new restriction whilst others seemed positively thrilled that they were now getting an extra week of holiday.

"Mental," Ron appeared behind Harry. "Can't believe it's happened again. At least you weren't involved this time, mate."

Harry turned to his friend, Hermione was also right beside him. "It was me who found him," he said begrudgingly.

"Oh," Ron grimaced. "Damn."

"Well, I'm sure no one realised you were gone," Hermione said quickly. "No one even knew you had those practicals with Professor Snape apart from us."

"It's starting to feel like I do have something to do with all this," Harry scowled.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," she admonished.

"Let's go and sit with everyone else." Ron began to drag Harry towards the gaggle of second years. "You need to be distracted, get out of your own head."

After a full day locked inside their common room, the Gryffindors were predictably feeling restless. Harry especially was itching to get out, somewhere that didn't include a group trip to the Great Hall for their meal.

"Can't believe we have to do this for a whole week," Seamus complained as the second years traipsed up to their dormitory that evening. "We're all going to lose our minds. Why can't they just send us all home now?"

"They need to give everyone time, I guess. Sort out the Express, and give parents the time to be able to collect their kids," Dean suggested.

"Yeah but if we got to go now we'd get to skip that Transfiguration test on Tuesday," Seamus moaned.

"I don't think you skipping the Transfiguration exam is very high up on anyone's agenda, Seamus," Hermione huffed as she split from the boys towards her dormitory.

Dean laughed and Seamus jabbed him in the ribs. "Shut up," he grumbled.

"I didn't say anything!"

Harry meanwhile was trying to block them all out. None of them had to worry about what they'd learned this morning. They all had homes they could go back to without a second thought. Families that loved them and wanted them home. Harry had never had that. Would never have that. So as he crawled into bed that evening he had only one thing on his mind.

If they couldn't find him, they couldn't send him back.

***

After checking in on his Slytherins after their day of confinement, Severus Snape was settling down for the evening. His students had taken their isolation better than he'd been expecting, but it had only been a day. He would be very surprised if there were to be no trouble brewing over the next few days.

He settled down on the sofa, a book on his knee with the fire crackling pleasantly before he remembered his promise to his charge.

"Dobby," Snape summoned the house-elf.

"How can Dobby be being of service, Master Snape?"

"Deliver this to Potter," he held out the vial he'd summoned moments before and had been twirling between his long fingers.

"Yes, Master." Dobby vanished, vial clutched in his tiny hand. But only a moment later, he reappeared.

"Dobby cannot be delivering Harry Potter his potion, Master Snape."

"Why not?" Snape asked sharply.

"Harry Potter is not being in his bed. Dobby is not knowing where he is."

"Merlin, preserve me," Snape ran a hand over his tired face. "Can you find him?"

Dobby shook his head vigorously. "As Harry Potter is not wanting to be found, Dobby is not able to be finding him."

"He's able to block you out?" Snape asked incredulously.

"It is how house-elf magic is working, sir. I can be locating anyone unless they is purposely hiding. Harry Potter is purposely hiding."

"Excellent," he muttered sarcastically to himself.

Dobby was wringing his hands with despair. "Dobby is not knowing what to be doing. Dobby is needing to punish-," and without warning, Dobby leapt forwards and began banging his head on the coffee table.

"Stop at once, Dobby," Snape commanded, seeming to snap out of his daze at the sudden violence.

Dobby stopped immediately but left his head resting on the table.

"Go and inform Professor Dumbledore of the situation. Report back to me what he says."

"Yes, sir," Dobby disappeared.

Snape let his head rest in his hands for a few moments. He really had not had a moment's peace since he had taken over the responsibility of Harry Potter.

Once he'd managed to crush his frustration into submission he pushed himself to his feet and threw his robe around his shoulders, stalking out of his quarters. There were endless possibilities for where Potter could have squirrelled himself away and he didn't have the faintest idea where to begin.

But reason took over as he exited the dungeons and he headed straight for Minerva's quarters. If anything he could get her to check the Tower thoroughly- he didn't think he'd be very welcome to search the Lions' den.

The Gryffindor Head of House snapped into action immediately and bustled off to search the Tower. She promised to check the hospital wing as well, although Snape was confident he wouldn't be there- Poppy would have informed him by now.

The next place Snape thought to look was the astronomy tower. He knew it was a favourite spot for students to hang out, and after a day locked inside, he could see the appeal of the fresh air but before he'd even left the Transfiguration corridor, Dobby appeared in front of him.

"Dobby is returning with a message from Master Dumbledore."

"What is it?" he tried to maintain a patient tone.

"Master Dumbledore is saying you is knowing who you is needing to be asking for help to find Master Harry."

"Who?"

"Master Dumbledore is not giving Dobby a name, he is just saying you is knowing."

"For Merlin's sake, why is he never forthcoming. Did he say anything else?"

"No, sir."

"Alright. You may go."

"Yes, sir."

Once the house- elf had disappeared and Snape gave Dumbledore's cryptic message a second thought he knew immediately who the headmaster had been alluding to. Someone with an enhanced sense of smell and the ability to follow a scent over a huge distance regardless of whether they were currently in their beastly form.

Albus Dumbledore expected him to ask Remus Lupin to sniff Potter out.

***

A sliver of light was shining under the door to the Defense classroom, so Snape didn't hesitate wrapping his fists on the door and pushing it open.

Lupin was startled. "Severus? How- what can I do for you?"

"Potter has gone missing." Snape didn't bother with pleasantries. "Dumbledore requires your nose."

"Wha-," Lupin was struggling to keep up with the situation. "My nose?"

"Focus, man," Snape growled. "Potter is missing. Hopefully he is still somewhere in this castle. He has managed to manoeuvre out of reach of the house-elves but you are in possession of a certain appendage that will hopefully lead us straight to him."

"Ah," the gravity of the situation seemed to finally dawn on him. "Right, yes. Okay. Let's go. Where do we start?"

"I assume he disappeared from the Tower- you should be able to pick up the strongest scent from there, yes?"

"Yes, that'll work," Lupin said.

"Let's go then."

The two walked in silence and came face to face with the Head of Gryffindor House as she stepped out of the portrait hole.

"Anything?" Snape asked.

"No, he's certainly not there. I awakened Mr. Weasley and he confirmed to me that Mr. Potter went to bed along with the rest of them but he didn't notice him leaving."

If he'd slipped away whilst everyone was asleep there was no telling how long the boy had been missing.

"Mr. Weasley did report rather alarmingly that Potter had said he felt as though he was to blame for the spate of attacks. Could that be his reason for going missing?"

"Possibly. But I couldn't care less about his reasoning right now. Lupin," Snape turned to the wizard. "Your turn."

Lupin had been pacing the portrait hole while the two Heads of House conferred. "There is a fresh scent here. It's quite strong. Only a couple of hours old at most."

"It can't be from dinner then," McGonagall pointed out.

"Lead the way," Snape instructed.

"I'll check with Poppy," McGonagall said as the two wizards stalked off down the corridor. Snape raised a hand in acknowledgement, but he was too busy following Lupin's every move to turn around and verbally reply.

When Lupin came to halt outside a first-floor girls' bathroom, what faith Snape had possessed in the man's sensory abilities drained away.

"Surely not," he said. "Why would he be in there?"

"I can't tell you that," Lupin said. "But I'm certain the trail continues through this door."

"Very well." Snape stepped in front of Lupin and pushed the door open. "Potter," he called out, his voice echoing around the large space. "If you're in here, come out right now."

Harry had scrambled into one of the stalls when he'd heard voices outside. And now he stood on one of the porcelain toilets so his feet wouldn't be seen under the stall door. And as a last resort he slid the bolt across to lock the door. How on earth had Snape found him so quickly?

Snape looked at Lupin.

"He's in here," Lupin confirmed quietly. "In the stalls."

"I'm not going to give you another chance, Mr. Potter."

Harry didn't move. He didn't even breathe.

Snape stalked forward, banging each stall open until he got to the very last one of the row. He pushed the door and predictably it did not budge.

"Unlock the door," Snape ordered.

"No," the voice was so quiet Snape could almost believe he'd imagined it.

"Alohomora." With a flick of his wrist, the lock clicked and the door swung open.

"No!" A much louder protest this time.

"I cannot even conceive of the reason for this, Mr. Potter," Snape said sharply as he gave the boy a critical once over. The boy was shivering but after determining he was not injured in any way, he reached forward to grab him and none too gently dragged him out of the stall.

"Get off me!" Harry resisted against his teacher's grip, but Snape did not let him go. The boy was freezing- due to the fact he was clad only in his thin pajamas. The only positive was that he'd thought to wear shoes for his late night excursion. Snape crouched down in front of him, holding firmly onto his arms as he tried his best to squirm away.

"Stay still," Snape commanded, but it had little effect on the boy. "What possible reason could you have for hiding in this bathroom when you have been explicitly told not to leave the Tower by both me and your Head of House?"

"I just-"

"You deliberately disobey me at every opportunity, Potter. But you always seem to have a reason for it- so go on, what is it this time?" Snape demanded

"You're going.. to send me.. back," he managed to get out, all the while still trying to twist out of Snape's firm grip.

"What are you talking about? Back where?"

"Back to the Dursley's!"

At this exclamation, all fight seemed to leave Harry's body and Snape had to adjust himself quickly, letting go of the boy's arms to hold him more fully and keep him upright as his knees buckled.

"Where on earth have you got that idea from?" Snape finally asked, arms full of the distraught child.

"Professor McGonagall s-said everyone had to g-go back for Christmas," Harry explained, "that no one c-could stay at H-hogwarts."

Snape let his head drop back and his eyes closed, but he tightened his arms around his charge, he even pulled his robe around the boy to envelope him against his chest in an attempt to transfer some of his own warmth.

"What was your plan here, Potter? To hide in the bathroom for the next three weeks?"

"Something like that," Harry said, but his voice was muffled by his position pressed against his teacher's chest.

"I'm not sending you anywhere. You're not going back there. I don't know how much clearer I can be about it."

"I just thought maybe you wouldn't be able to keep that promise."

"You could have asked me."

Harry pushed away from his teacher, untangling himself in the process and to his surprise Snape let him go. "How could I?" he said angrily. "I'm not even allowed to leave the Tower. I didn't even think I'd seen you outside of lessons before I was shipped off back to Surrey with no say in the matter."

"We have become rather adept at sending each other messages without being in the same vicinity, Potter," Snape pointed out. "You could have sent Dobby with a message."

"Well yeah, I could have. But you could have said I had to go back and I honestly couldn't face that so...," he trailed off.

"It's getting late," Snape said, pushing up from his crouched position, his knees complaining at their prolonged immobility. "It's way past time you were in bed." He fully whipped off his robe this time and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders.

Harry clutched the material close to him, his muscles unclenching at the immediate warmth. He was surprised at the change of topic. "So I'm not.. in trouble?"

"Oh you're in huge trouble, young man. But now is not the time. It's late, as I've said. So let's get moving."

It was at this time that Harry caught sight of Professor Lupin leaning against the sinks, and his cheeks heated at the thought that his dad's friend had witnessed all that.

"Oh, hi, sir," he said shyly.

"I'm glad you're okay, Harry. You had us all worried for a moment there."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you are," Snape cut in, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders to steer him towards the door. "You can properly apologise tomorrow for sending us all on a wild goose chase to find you."

Harry gulped, he knew he was in for it tomorrow.

Snape didn't say a word as he directed Harry down out of the bathroom and into the corridor. Harry glanced back at Professor Lupin, offering a weak wave in goodbye. He thought he must look ridiculous as Snape's robe completely swamped him and dragged along the floor, but neither teacher commented on it.

Instead of beginning the long trek to the Tower, Harry realised quite quickly that they were headed for the dungeons.

"I thought you said I was going to bed?" Harry said, alarmed. Had Snape changed his mind and decided he was actually going to take Harry to his office to yell at him for a bit?

"You are." Snape said simply.

Harry accepted this without further comment. Frankly, he was too knackered and didn't have the energy to extract a straight answer from his teacher right now.

Snape didn't say another word until they were inside his personal quarters. He turned and reached for Harry, peeling off his borrowed robe before pushing him gently in the direction of the sofa.

"Shoes off. Lie down."

"I'm sleeping here?" Harry gestured to the sofa.

"Yes," Snape confirmed. It said a lot about the current situation that he didn't snark about the inane nature of Harry's question.

Harry toed his trainers off and gently placed his glasses on the coffee table before collapsing into the familiar comfort of Snape's sofa, his eyes sliding closed. He felt as a blanket was draped over him, staving off the chill he'd felt immediately at the removal of Snape's robe. A gentle pressure under his neck had him encouraging him to lift his head as a pillow was slipped underneath.

Harry forced his eyes open again, but Snape had already dimmed the lights so he couldn't see much. "I'm so sorry, sir," he breathed.

"Never mind that, now." He laid a gentle hand on the boy's head for a moment. "Go to sleep, Harry."

Chapter Text

Harry awoke to almost complete darkness. Alarmed by the unfamiliar environment- the lack of his four poster bed and the soft exhalations of his dormmates, he sat up quickly, clutching the blanket to his chest as he fumbled around for his glasses which he thankfully encountered as soon as he stretched out his arm to one side. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, and the events of the previous evening became less hazy, he quickly came to realise that this wasn't an unfamiliar environment at all. He just wasn't used to waking up here.

At the time he hadn't dwelled on the fact that Snape had abandoned his usual stringent command that Harry was absolutely not falling asleep on his sofa, that he had his own bed and that if that wasn't to his liking he could take up in the hospital wing. Clearly Harry had appeared as enough of a basket case last night that Snape had thought it necessary to break his own rule.

There were no windows in Snape's quarters that indicated the state of the sky outside but this didn't stop Harry from intuiting that it was still very much the middle of the night. There was a certain stillness in the air, a quietness, that was only ever present in the small hours of the morning when dawn was still a long way off.

So the problem now was that he was wide awake. When he was in the Tower and couldn't sleep he'd often wander down to the common room for a little while because just lying awake in his bed never helped him fall asleep again. But he couldn't exactly take a little tour around Snape's quarters. He'd never been down the corridor leading off the main room and he didn't know what was behind any of the doors down there and he didn't feel like finding out in the middle of the night.

He let out a deep sigh and just as he was about to flop back down in mild frustration at his containment, he heard the sound of a door opening. He froze in place, squinting hard in the direction of the sound, and sure enough, the outline of the Potions Master appeared from the mysterious corridor and continued towards him.

"Nightmare, Potter?" Snape asked when he reached him, his voice hushed. He waved his wand and the room was bathed in a faint light.

"Uhh, no. I just..woke up. How did...how did you know I was awake?"

"Never mind that. Here," he held out a vial, "the reason I knew of your little disappearing act so quickly."

Harry reached out to take the offering but his brow furrowed in confusion. When it dawned on him what his teacher was alluding to he groaned audibly. Snape had promised he'd send Dobby with a sleeping aid every night and clearly Dobby had reported back that he hadn't been able to deliver it.

"Do you need me to say again how sorry I am?" Harry asked wretchedly.

"What I need," Snape said pointedly, "is for you to go back to sleep."

Harry got the hint and downed the potion in two quick gulps. "What time is it anyway?"

"Just gone half past three," Snape informed him.

"Sorry I woke you."

"Don't be. Lie down."

"Thanks for letting me stay here," he said as he obeyed, settling his head back down on the pillow and pulling the blanket up and fisting it tightly around his neck.

"Glasses, Potter," Snape said, and Harry could practically hear the eye roll. But before he could untangle his arms from his self-made blanket straight jacket, Snape had reached forward and plucked his glasses off his nose for him.

"Thank-," an almighty yawn interrupted his attempt at gratitude. "Wow this stuff really works," he chuckled to himself.

"Whilst I appreciate your vote of confidence, it will work much better if you stop nattering and close your eyes."

"I'm not nattering," Harry giggled at the funny word. "And my eyes are closed."

"I'm not sure what you're finding humorous about this situation, Potter."

Harry peaked through his eyelashes, but Snape had already doused the lights so he couldn't determine his teacher's expression. But his tone told him enough.

"Sorry," he mumbled drowsily, and he was sure he heard a hushed expletive in response but he was all together too sleepy to interpret it.

The room was so quiet Harry assumed Snape had left, but then he felt a hand settle on his forehead and gently stroke his hair back from his face. He lay as still as he possibly could. The action felt both entirely unknown and completely familiar. His instinct was to shy away, unused as he was to such attention, but he also never wanted it to stop.

"What am I going to do with you?" Snape murmured as he repeated the gesture.

Harry was certain his teacher thought he'd dropped off. There was only one other time his teacher had treated him this tenderly and that's when he'd been in the hospital wing with all the bones missing in his right arm. There was no reason for it now, he wasn't injured or in pain. In fact, he was in huge trouble and yet...

Another brush of his forehead and Harry was pulled firmly towards sleep.

***

The next time he came to awareness it was light, and a pleasant fire was crackling in the hearth. No wonder he'd pushed the blanket off, he thought as he retrieved it from its heap on the floor. Despite his mid-night wake up he felt well rested and he stretched luxuriously, reaching for his glasses in the same spot they'd been left last night.

He glanced around, expecting to encounter a certain Potions Master but instead he noticed a folded piece of parchment set in the middle of the coffee table, his name scrawled across it.

He sat up quickly and snatched it up, unfolding it to reveal a message.

If you wake before I return, do not leave these quarters. There is a lavatory down the hallway, first door on the right. Summon Dobby for a change of clothes and any toiletries you require. Breakfast is waiting for you on the table. I will return shortly.

There was no signature but it was abundantly clear who had written it. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of... something that Snape wasn't here when he woke up. He twisted around to the small dining area and sure enough a platter was laid out for him on the table. He wondered what had pulled Snape away on a Sunday morning that meant he didn't mind that Harry was left alone in his quarters.

Not knowing how long ago Snape had left his instructions, Harry thought he'd better crack on with following them before he got back. He could already picture the look on Snape's face if he got back and Harry was still lounging around in his pyjamas.

Dobby began immediately scolding Harry when he was summoned.

"Master Harry is not to be running off like that," he admonished. "It is too dangerous. He is worrying everybody."

"Everybody? Surely not."

"Master Dumbledore was most concerned-"

"Wait, Dumbledore knows?"

Dobby blinked his large tennis-ball-like eyes at him. "It was Master Dumbledore who was telling Master Snape what he was to be doing to be finding you. Although Dobby was not being told exactly Master Snape was knowing what he was meaning."

"Brilliant," Harry exhaled long and slow. "Well, would you mind getting me some things from my dorm? Some clothes and my toiletry bag, please."

Harry was freshly washed, dressed and sitting at the table halfway through a steaming bowl of oatmeal by the time he heard the click of the door and Snape entered the room.

The Potions Master didn't say anything but Harry caught the look of approval when Snape saw that his instructions had been followed. Harry tried not to preen at the silent praise. He continued to shovel his breakfast into his mouth as he watched Snape whip off his robe and hang it on the stand by the door, revealing as he did so his customary black smart trousers and long sleeved shirt. Harry couldn't believe the man didn't even dress down on a Sunday.

"Where were you?" Harry asked, hoping he didn't sound too needy.

Snape gave him a curious look that revealed he'd failed at that. "Escorting my Slytherins to breakfast and ensuring their ongoing good health."

"Oh. Right," Harry said lamely.

"I apologise I wasn't here when you woke up," Snape said carefully.

"No, no, s'fine. Doesn't matter," he addressed this to his diminishing portion of oatmeal, embarrassed at the heat he could feel spreading across his cheeks. Where had this overwhelming feeling of abandonment come from?

Snape continued to observe him from across the room before walking forward and taking the chair opposite.

"How did you sleep the rest of the night?" he inquired once he'd settled.

"All good. But you'd have known otherwise, right?" There was an accusatory hint to Harry's tone.

"Yes, I would have," Snape said slowly.

"So why bother asking?" Harry said bitterly. "And how do you know? Have you put some kind of weird creepy monitoring spell on me or something."

"Not directly on you, no," Snape said easily, a contrast to Harry's challenging tone. "The room has a number of monitoring spells that I am keyed into."

"Still weird," Harry muttered. "How come you haven't done that in my dorm then?"

"As you are not the sole occupant the result would be unreliable. And I would not put a spell like that on your person without your prior knowledge. Despite your tendency to run off."

Harry's breath caught in his throat at the direction this conversation was now taking. "I am really sorry," he hung his head. "I wasn't thinking straight. I should have just asked you, I can see that now."

"I'm glad you can realise where you went wrong."

Harry waited for the inevitable handing down of punishment but when none came he chanced a look back up at his professor. "So what- potion practicals for the rest of the year?"

Snape ignored his suggestion. "Mr. Weasley alluded to the fact that you find yourself somehow to blame for these attacks."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Wha-?"

Snape's mouth quirked. "Care to elaborate on the topic further?"

"When did- how did? When did you talk to him?"

"Professor McGonagall did last night. When we were trying to locate you. He was unaware you'd disappeared until he was woken but he did provide this concerning insight into the possibility for your actions."

"You thought I'd gone off somewhere to do what exactly?"

"My focus was locating you as quickly as possible."

"No, what did you think I was doing? Punishing myself?"

"The possibility crossed my mind, yes."

"Like self-harming?"

"Were you?"

"No, of course not! You want proof?" Harry shoved the sleeves of his jumper up to reveal pale, bare skin.

Snape gave him a dark look. "You can put your sleeves down. Your word is enough until you give me a reason to doubt it."

"I wouldn't do something like that," Harry insisted.

"I'm glad to hear it. But it would be remiss of me not to ask."

"I really was just hiding so I didn't have to go back to the Dursleys. As stupid as that sounds now. And who knows how long I would have lasted in there anyway. Myrtle was starting to creep me out. She kept saying weird stuff like I should join her in the U-bend. I know now why girls don't go in there if they can help it."

Snape's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"So where am I going to go? We don't have long to decide now."

"As I am required to remain at school and yet am loath to let you out of my sight, provisions will be made for you here."

"Your sofa?"

"We can certainly do better than that, I should think."

"It's comfortable. I wouldn't mind." Harry shrugged. "Better than a cupboard." The dark look that crossed his professor's face made Harry think maybe he was getting used to being a little too honest with Snape. "...or not, whatever you think is fine."

Snape nodded tightly. "Finish your breakfast," he directed, getting up and ordering himself a pot of tea from the kitchens via the hearth.

Harry looked down at his forgotten oatmeal, prodding it with his spoon. "It's cold now," he whinged. Snape immediately flourished his wand and Harry's bowl was emitting steam again. "Thanks," he said as he shovelled a fresh spoonful in. "You know loads of handy spells."

"I am not about to have the table manners talk with you again, young man," he said as retook his seat and reached for the teapot as it shimmered into view.

Harry smiled around his spoon. He'd never had this type of relationship with an adult before. He wasn't quite deluded enough to think it was the kind of relationship his friends had with their parents but there were definite similarities. Yeah, he was probably stricter than most but he also actually listened when Harry had a problem. And comforted him when he was...feeling bad. He'd even shown him affection on a few occasions, not to mention last night. Harry had never had that before. Ever. Or at least, not that he could remember. So no wonder he was feeling unmoored this morning when Snape hadn't been around. He was becoming attached. He found himself hoping that he would be staying in Snape's quarters over the holidays and not in the Tower or anywhere else. He liked it being just the two of them, sat at the breakfast table with Snape nagging him about not talking with his mouth full. It felt good. It felt normal.

"So what is my punishment going to be?" Harry suddenly felt brave enough to ask as he set down his spoon.

Snape peered at him over his tea cup. "If you do not believe that I do not intend to allow you to return to your relatives then it is me who has done something wrong, not you. I find I cannot fault you for your actions of last night if you really thought that was your circumstance. Whilst I am extremely displeased with the path you took, I have no intent to punish you for it."

"Wow I... okay. Cool, works for me."

Snape smirked. "If you're finished I shall escort you back to your common room."

Harry's heart sank. He didn't want this quiet morning to end. He certainly didn't want to be shoved back into a stuffy common room with the rest of the Gryffindors for the rest of the day.

"...or you may read quietly here for a while. I have some work to do but-,"

"Yes, I'll stay here," Harry interrupted in his haste to agree. "Please."

"Very well, I think you know where your book is. Don't touch any book but that one."

"Why? Do they bite?" Harry grinned over his shoulder as he sauntered over to the overflowing bookshelves to the spot where Snape had procured his Quidditch anthology from last time.

"Oh, much worse than that," his professor assured him.

Harry looked back again, alarm this time on his face.

"Just do as I say and you'll be fine."

Harry very gingerly eased out the copy of Quidditch Through the Ages from where it sat on the shelf, raising it in triumph when he'd successfully extracted it.

An indulgent smile flitted across the Potions Master's face but it was gone before Harry could turn back around and see it.

Chapter Text

A few hours passed before Snape suggested that Harry should take the opportunity to rejoin his fellow housemates at lunchtime so he wouldn't be making an entrance by stepping through the portrait hole in front of everyone. That way his absence and subsequent reappearance would likely go unnoticed by all but his friends.

Once he'd extracted a sincere and repeated promise that Harry would stay put this time, Snape escorted him out of his quarters. Harry managed to slip amongst the throng of Gryffindors as they made their way into the Great Hall without drawing any attention to himself- thankfully everyone was too invested in enjoying their own freedom to take much notice of him.

His friends must have been briefed to a degree, most likely by Professor McGonagall, as he didn't get badgered with questions about his whereabouts when he took a seat in the Great Hall and before he knew it, lunch was over and the Gryffindors were ensconced back in the Tower and Harry found himself wishing immediately he was back in the peace and quiet of Snape's dungeon.

He knew he couldn't put off Hermione and Ron's questioning looks for long, so only a few minutes after their return to lockdown, the three of them broke off from their group and Harry told them largely what had happened.

"It was all just a misunderstanding really," he tried to assure them once he'd stumbled through the story.

"Sure, mate. It's just getting shaken awake by McGonagall in the middle of the night asking where you are was not exactly fun for me."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"You really thought you'd be able to hide out in the bathroom for weeks? Come on now, Harry." Hermione seemed more frustrated with his stupidity than worried.

"You know how much I don't want to go back to the Dursleys." He shrugged. It was simple to him.

"So you'd rather have had Moaning Myrtle for company?"

"Wait!" The mention of Moaning Myrtle had jogged Harry's memory. "There was something I was going to tell you, Ron. I got talking to Moaning Myrtle, well actually, she wouldn't really leave me alone when I was in the bathroom, but she was telling me all about your sister and that she's quite often in there on her own, which is weird because she said no one else ever really comes in. Myrtle said she stays away from her whenever she comes in because she senses a dark energy or something."

"Ginny? Dark energy?" Ron scoffed. "Come on now. Pure as the driven snow, that one."

"You have to admit she's been a little..morose lately," Hermione said delicately.

"She's just homesick," Ron insisted.

"I do think it's more than that now. She still doesn't really have any friends. And if she's hanging out in that bathroom all the time something is definitely going on. You should talk to her, Ron."

"Fine. I'll speak to her." He glanced around, catching sight of their topic of conversation curled up in a window seat, writing furiously in a book. "She doesn't have any friends because she's always writing in that bloody notebook. What is so interesting about her life that she feels like she has to write it down all the time?"

"You need to work on your compassion before you speak with her, Ronald," Hermione chastised. "Ask her about it. But not like that."

"I know how to handle Ginny."

"Uhuh," Hermione sounded unconvinced.

***

Only a couple of days later, the day before the school was due to close, another student went missing.

"We have a problem," Lupin announced immediately upon stepping through into Snape's office. "A student is missing."

"If the next words out of your mouth are that it's Harry, Merlin help me," Snape said, already on high alert.

"It's not Harry," Lupin assured him instantly, but an odd look spread across his face. "It's Ginny Weasley. No one's seen her since yesterday evening."

"How is that even possible? What's being done?"

"There's already a search happening. The Gryffindors are understandably frantic, especially the Weasley boys. No one even noticed she was missing at first. It wasn't until, well, there was another message left on the wall. It was spotted on the way back from lunch and after a count was done to make sure everybody was accounted for it turned out Ginny Weasley was missing."

Dread settled in Snape's belly. "What does the message say?" he asked with trepidation.

Lupin waited a beat. "Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."

Snape's mouth very nearly dropped open. "So she's not missing, she's been taken?"

"It does seem that way. Albus has considered the logistics of sending the students home this afternoon instead of tomorrow and has made the decision that that's what he's going to do."

Snape frowned. He didn't like that Lupin was privy to this information and he wasn't. Lupin wasn't even a blasted Head of House.

"I just know all of this because I was helping to escort the Gryffindors when the message was discovered," Lupin seemed to sense Snape's vexation. "Albus asked me to come and inform you straight away. And to ask you to get your students ready to leave. The Express will be departing in two hours."

"Doesn't he want us searching for the girl?"

"The rest of the teachers are doing that for now, but after the children are on the train, then yes."

"Alright. I'll have to collect Potter first and bring him to my quarters."

"I can do that," Lupin offered. "You'll need every second you can get to get your students ready to leave on time as well as notify their parents."

Snape considered this and came to a quick decision. "Fine. You collect Potter and deposit him in my quarters. Inform him I will return when I can, but it may be some time."

"Alright then," Lupin smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

***

Harry initially refused to leave with Professor Lupin when he came for him. He wanted to stay and comfort Ron and the other Weasleys until they were on the train and it wasn't until the professor changed from his usual friendly tact and began wielding his authority that Harry finally relented.

"Now, Mr. Potter." Lupin had never called him anything but 'Harry' so he realised he must have overstepped the line. He said a hasty goodbye to his friends, squeezing Ron tightly but having no words of comfort to offer.

The two wizards walked in silence down towards the dungeons, Harry was biting his lip, fearing his professor was angry at him.

"Is she going to be alright?" he eventually asked, desperate to break the silence.

"We're going to do everything we can to find her," Lupin assured him.

"I want to help," Harry insisted.

"You will help by staying put in Professor Snape's quarters and letting the teachers handle it."

Harry gritted his teeth. That was always what they wanted him to do. Sit tight and do nothing. It was infuriating.

When they got to the entrance of Snape's quarters, Harry was surprised that Lupin didn't hesitate in opening the portrait, but obviously Snape had been the one to tell Lupin to bring him down so he must have also told him how to get in.

Harry tried not to stomp his feet as he dragged himself over to the sofa, flopping down in obvious irritation.

Lupin didn't leave straight away and it suddenly dawned on Harry that he might not be at all.

"You're not going to stay here and babysit me are you?" he asked in horror. "Surely you should be helping look for Ginny!"

"I'm not staying, no," Lupin said, as he moved further into the room. "But I need you to promise me something before I go."

"I'll stay here like a good little boy," Harry rolled his eyes.

"I need you to say that like you mean it, Harry. You are not to leave for any reason, not unless a teacher says you may. We can't be focusing on Ginny if we're worried about where you are. You are helping Ginny by staying here and letting us concentrate on finding her."

Harry sobered up pretty quickly once it was put like that. "I'll stay here. Sorry I just- I want to help. But I don't want to get in the way."

"Good. Professor Snape said he'd be back as soon as he can, but he might be quite a while. He said in the meantime you're free to enter any room that is not locked. I'm sure that will keep you occupied for a little while." Lupin offered him a small smile. "You may call on your house-elf if you need anything and I've been instructed specifically to tell you not to forget about dinner."