Harry woke up to the familiar white noise of the hospital wing—Madam bustling around, people muttering in the background. For a moment he kept his eyes closed—it seemed easier that opening them and remembering those horrible screams. But someone must have noticed his change in breathing, because some unknown voices yelled in tandem “Blimey, he’s awake!” Harry opened his eyes after that. No use pretending.

There was a blur of people around his bed and he blinked, trying to find his glasses before noticing that a familiar blur of brown hair was holding them out to him. He pulled them on thankfully, then looked at the swarm around his bed. Hermione was there, looking frightened, and Neville, looking pale and shaky. Percy Weasley was calling to Madam Pomfrey that he was awake, while the Weasley twins were smiling at him and tousling his hair.

“How—what happened? There—were there—“ Harry started to stutter, but Hermione seemed to see that he was truly alright and burst into tears, throwing her arms around Harry’s neck and wailing. Harry awkwardly hugged her and pat her back. “Er—there, Hermione, look, I’m alright. Stop—you don’t have to cry, I’m really okay.” He shot a panicked look at Neville, who seemed to shrug in a way that spoke ‘you’re on your own, mate, she just finished fussing on me.’ Hermione did not notice the silent exchange, or acknowledge Harry’s attempt at comfort, but merely kept clutching at Harry.

Percy Weasley noticed that Hermione seemed to be cutting of Harry’s air supply, so he leaned in and detatched Hermione with a practiced ease. “Come, Hermione, it’s all right now.” He patted her back several times and she started to calm down, but she still sniffled a lot when she looked at Harry. Neville scooted over and patted her awkwardly on the arm, now that she seemed settled.

The Weasley twins had big grins on their identical freckled faces and were roughly messing up Harry’s hair in a way that made him feel like a Quaffle being tossed from one player to another. “Woah, Harry, that was—“ “Brilliant! Be a bit better without the needing rescue, yeah, but—“ “Still, who tries to free fall out of the stands! Way to go!”

“I wasn’t trying to free fall,” Harry said crossly. “Can—Could you stop—“

“I believe visiting hours are over, Weasley. Now, if you could stop mistreating Potter’s head?” drawled a voice from the doorway. Harry let out a small sigh and felt safe for the first time since he felt that cold in the pit of his stomach at the game. The twins scowled at the door, but removed their hands from Harry’s head and started to get up to leave.

“See you, then,” one of the twins said. “Hey, and watch yourself, Harry—“ “Next time, we might not be able to catch you!” The twins, with a double barreled scowl aimed at Professor Snape, slunk out of the room. Percy stood, Hermione still leaning on him and sniffling. He touched Neville’s shoulder and the other boy stood as well.

Percy cleared his throat. “Neville, Hermione—“

“You are excused,” Snape said, and Harry felt a flutter of fear in his stomach. Had he done something else wrong? Was he going to get yelled at like he had after the Chamber last year? He gave Neville and Hermione a small smile and wave as they left with Percy.

“Professor,” Harry said nervously. “I—I’m sorry—“ Whatever he was about to say next flew out of his head as Snape’s black robes enveloped him and he found himself pulled in to Snape’s chest.

“You could have died,” Snape said into the top of his head. Harry didn’t know what to do. Should he hug him back? He tentatively wrapped his arms around Snape. “You could have snapped your neck.”

Harry started to mutter an apology into Snape’s robes. “I’m so—“

“Don’t,” Snape barked irritably, and Harry fell silent and just let himself enjoy this. It reminded him a little bit of how Aunt Petunia smothered Dudley, except that those hugs looked stifling and terrifying while this just felt sort of warm. Comfortable, like when he was wearing his Invisibility Cloak. Safe. Snape pulled away after a few minutes, his face like stone.

“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I should not have manhandled you like that. I was out of line.”

Harry tentatively smiled at him. “I—I didn’t—it was alright. For you to, uhm, to hug me. And, I—I liked it. I mean—“ Harry shut his mouth and bit his lip. “It made me feel safe.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought that Professor Snape’s eyes glittered a little bit more than the usually did before he blinked and turned to topic of conversation to matters like school and dementors.

When he left that night, Harry sat up for a long time, trying to think and figure out why he felt like something enormous had happened, and in the end he fell asleep just as the doors to the Infirmary opened and another patient entered.

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When Harry woke up in the morning, it was to bright sunlight in his eyes and the brisk efficiency of Madam Pomfrey, who was examining his head. “Hmm—you had quite a nasty bump on your head, Mr. Potter. Luckily it doesn’t seem to be anything serious—the bump I can fix, but head trauma?” She tutted. “Not so simple. There doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage, though, so you’ll be fit to leave after a check over and a breakfast. Now—Remus? Do you need something?”

Harry looked and saw Professor Lupin, looking wan and shaky, advancing. “Ah—Yes, Poppy, I didn’t realize you might be occupied—Hello, Harry, how are you?”

“Erm—fine, sir,” Harry muttered, studying the blanket. Madam Pomfrey took the opportunity of his bowed head and started prodding and feeling around for contusions.

“What do you need, Remus?”

“A bit more—well, Severus seemed less than willing to see me last night, so I need another dose—for tonight.”

Madam tutted and finished expecting his head. “Well, Remus, I don’t carry it—it can be toxic, you know, and it doesn’t last long enough for me to warrant keeping any. You’ll have to go to Severus.”

“Right,” he heard Lupin say distantly. Harry felt Lupin’s eyes on his head for another moment before he heard the man turn and walk away. He looked back up and saw Madam Pomfrey scrutinize him for a second, then stand up.

“Well, then, Mr. Potter, you seem perfectly fit. I do want to make sure you’re eating properly.”

“I eat fine,” Harry grumbled quietly.

“Yes, well,” Madam said, pursing her lips as if people told her they ate fine all the time and then dropped dead at her feet. “I’ll have Quiggin bring you a breakfast. You’re not to leave until you finish, understand?”

Harry ate so quickly that Madam Pomfrey made him stay another ten minutes to be sure he didn’t throw up.

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The rest of autumn passed quickly. Harry continued to have a team of followers—mostly Percy Weasley, who never made any show of hiding what he was doing, but did them with a cheerful sort of intensity that made Harry feel protected. The Slytherin’s had started to follow him too, Draco Malfoy at the lead, taunting and pretending to pitch themselves over bannisters and trip on little steps, careening downward with looks of pretend horror on their faces. Harry normally ignored them, but Ron Weasley had surprisingly taken his side and would get furious, his ears turning bright red and his mouth in a scowl. Harry thought it was probably Ron’s long standing feud with Malfoy that caused it, but he was glad enough and started to make small talk with Ron, even including him in the noughts and crosses tournaments he and Neville were involved in during History of Magic.

Professor Lupin turned out to be a very sickly man who missed class often. Professor Snape often substituted, which always made Harry feel a mix between happy and awkward. He liked Professor Lupin, really, but Snape was interesting and he liked Harry, even if he was rather cruel to the class and made mean remarks about Professor Lupin. Ron would mutter about Snape a lot, under his breath, but Ron muttered about nearly everybody under his breath, so Harry strove to take no mind.

Latin lessons continued in the evenings, though there was a minor dispute over the Patronus lessons. Hermione had asked Harry what time they were as they left Snape’s office after Latin, and Snape had overheard them and marched the three of them to Lupin’s office to tell Lupin they would be taking lessons from Snape—only Snape.

“But Severus,” Lupin had said, trying for pleasantness. “

Professor Snape in front of students, Lupin,” Snape snarled.

“Snape, then. Really, this is ridiculous. I’m the defense professor—this is my subject. Besides Harry and Neville approached me about lessons, not the other way around.” Harry thought it was the mention of defense as his subject that pushed Snape over the edge. Everyone knew that Snape wanted the Defense position more than anything.

“Potter will not be taking lessons from a—a beast. That is your classification, is it not, Lupin? Dangerous beast?”

Lupin lost his smile. “See here, Snape—“ Harry snuck a look at his friends. Neville looked as lost as him with the ‘beast’ comment, but Hermione looked thoughtful, as though she were filing it away for later contemplation.

“That’s unnecessary. I’m teaching it, that’s that! The kids asked for it themselves—“

“I will not allow Potter to accept instruction from an animal! A—a no good mongrel? Who knows what sort of damage you might inflict on him!” Snape had thundered.

“Severus—“

“You’re an animal, Lupin! I will not allow Potter to accept instruction from a—a monster!”

Lupin’s face got angry. “I will not allow James’ son to accept instruction from—from Snivellus!” he yelled back, and Snape had drawn his wand as Lupin looked slightly ashamed, yet still angry and leveled his own at Snape. That’s when Harry and Hermione had stopped the fight. Harry pulled Snape’s wand arm down while Hermione jumped in the middle and started to recite, in a high pitched voice, the rules concerning professor conduct.

Professor Lupin had calmed down quickly, but Neville had to aim a Calming Charm—one of his specialties—at Snape’s back as he marched the three of them to the headmaster.

Dumbledore had regarded the group with slightly amused eyes that lost their twinkle as Hermione recounted the fight. He sent them outside the door, where a disapproving Hermione watched as Harry and Neville pressed their ears to the door.

“Severus, my boy—“ Dumbledore said gravely.

“We had come to an agreement.”

“I have upheld it,” Snape said stubbornly.

“The phrase did not pass my lips.”

“Everything but!” Lupin interjected angrily.

“Ah, but the agreement was not for ‘everything but’,” Snape said smoothly. “The agreement was I would not utter certain truths about Professor Lupin and I have not. The agreement was I would brew him his little potion, and I have. The agreement was not that I would allow my—“ Snape faltered here, then caught strength and continued. “The agreement was not that I would allow Potter to have lessons with a dangerous—“

“He arranged them, not you! You have no authority to terminate—“

“I have authority!”

“What?” The two men had completely forgotten Dumbledore’s presence and were facing each other. Professor Lupin had completely transformed, Harry thought. Normally mild mannered, polite, and kind, he looked rather fierce and angry. Territorial, almost, he remarked later that night to Hermione. “What right do you have? He isn’t your son, or your ward. He isn’t—he isn’t related to you, you’re not even his head of house! What are you to him, Snape? What right do you have over him?”

“I have every right!” Snape bellowed. “I am the only person who has ever looked out for the best interests of that boy—“

“James and Lily looked out for his interests, Snape, long before you even saw him—“

“And now they’re dead, aren’t they? That boy has no one else to look out for him, so I do!”

“I—“

“You! What have you done for him? Offered him a smile and a bar of bloody chocolate? You didn’t even check up on him, not once in ten bloody years!”

“I wanted to!” Lupin cried out. “Of course I wanted to, but the wards—and I was under orders not to, how could I—“

“You could have thought about the best interests of the child instead of Dumbledore’s damned orders!” Snape yelled, and that was when Dumbledore stepped in.

“Cease this fighting at once. I’m sure that Harry and the others have heard you outside.” The two stopped fighting and merely started to glare at each other. “Severus, Remus is the Defense professor and the most qualified—“

“Headmaster!” Snape interjected, but Dumbledore continued.

“Severus, it’s true. It is also true that Remus is certainly not a danger to the children of this school, and I will not have you referring to him in such a way in front of the students, is that clear?”

Snape glared and inclined his head slightly. “Fine.”

“Remus, now, you must accept that Severus has a right to Harry as well.”

“I do, Albus.”

The Headmaster had dismissed them, but before Professor Lupin could take them to their Patronus lesson, Snape had grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him down the corridor.

“Sir, I’m sorry—“

“Potter.” Harry focused on the professor and was surprised to see that there was not only anger in his eyes. Also—fear? But what did Snape have to fear of Lupin?

“You do need to learn to protect yourself from Dementors. If—If Lupin tries anything—“

“I’ll tell you, sir. No worries,” Harry said, and Snape looked a little relieved.

The lessons were hard, though, and the first challenge was what they would practice on. Lupin had the idea to start with a Boggart, but they were no one’s greatest fear. He ended up setting up a sort of target that they practiced sending little puffs of mist at. Neville gave up first. He had been having awful nightmares, and after Lupin decided that they could try shooting their silver clouds at Lethifolds he broke down completely and retreated. Harry and Hermione had offered to quit too, but Neville shook his head. “It’s not y-y-your fault I’m too scared,” he said. “You should still do it. T-then at least one of us can protect me.”

Hermione gave it a valiant try, but in the end could only summon a vaguely animal-shaped cloud. She gave up as well, she said in support of Neville, but continued to practice on her own. She was very discouraged, because this, like flying, was one area in which all the books and practice in the world couldn’t help her. You had to be a natural, Professor Lupin said to her kindly many times, and Hermione resigned herself to being able to shoot animal-shaped clouds of mist, which would probably hold up a Dementor long enough to summon help.

Harry never gave up. He kept working at it and working at it and could never forget that horrible feeling he’d had of falling through time when he tumbled out of the stands hearing the screams of his mother in his head.

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The next Hogsmeade weekend came soon enough. Hermione and Neville insisted that they weren’t going, but Neville knocked over his trunk and smashed all his ink bottles over his ties, so he needed to replace both.

Slightly shamefaced, he went to Hermione and asked her to join him, because he would certainly get lost without her. She agreed and took a list of things Harry needed and went off.

Harry didn’t much mind—he had a passage of Vergil to translate and a Transfiguration paper to finish. Just as he was about to head back to the commons area to start his work, the Weasley twins leapt out of a corner and pushed him against a wall.

Barely restraining a yell, Harry shook them off of him. “Get off me! Haven’t you two got anything better to do?”

“Nope!” one twin said cheerily. “Besides, Potter—“ “Might want to attempt a nicer tone.” “Not every day that we offer someone something like this.” “Not every day at all.” Beaming, the two handed him a sheet of ripped, ragged parchment. Blank. Harry flipped the sheet over to see if it had anything written on the back. Still nothing.

“Piece of parchment? Thanks, but—“ Harry tried to hand it back and the twins looked affronted.

“Piece of parchment? Why would we give you just a piece of parchment?” Harry looked at the paper with a little alarm, then, and tried to hand it back even harder. Things that had been left for periods of time in Weasley hands were not to be trusted.

“Aw, come on, Potter, attempt some enthusiasm! That there—“ “Is the secret to all our wisdom.” “The cause of our greatness.” “Look upon it in awe.”

Harry looked upon it with a mixture of fear and curiousity. “If it’s that important, maybe you should keep it,” Harry ventured. “Here—“

“We owe you, Potter!” one of the twins said. “You saved ickle Ronniekins—“

“You don’t owe me anything,” Harry said. “You saved me when I fell from the stands, we’re even, okay?”

The twins looked scandalized. “That was just us being decent. This—“ the twin in question tapped the paper. “This is special. This is worth our brother.”

Harry accepted the paper, since the twins seemed like they weren’t taking it back any time soon. “Erm—thanks.” He looked at it. “What is it?”

“That, Harry—“ “Is the Marauder’s Map.” “Oh,” Harry said. He squinted at it. “What—what does it do?”

The twins smiled at him enigmatically—or as enigmatically as the twins could. “Tap your wand to it—“ “And say ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good’ to unlock it.” “When you’re done, tap it again and say—“ “Mischief managed,” the twins chimed together. “We had to figure that out ourselves.” “Always thought we were brilliant for figuring it out, weren’t we, Fred?” “Too right, George. So there you are, Potter—“ “Debt repaid.”

The twins turned and walked away, and Harry spared the paper one last, curious look before tucking it into his pocket. He’d give it a longer look later, when Hermione and Neville came back from Hogsmeade. Then he went to the commons, collected his work, and went to Snape’s office for help with his Vergil.