"Three heads!?" Ron exclaimed, his mouth full of toast.

"Really, Ron. Have some table manners."

He swallowed purposefully and then exclaimed again, "Three heads? Are you sure Harry?"

"Yeah, Harry. I've never heard of such a thing and I read Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them earlier this year!"

‘It's there, I swear it. Remember that Dumbledore said no one was to go on the 3rd floor? That's exactly where it is!' He wished his friend didn't ask so many questions; he wouldn't have to write so much.

"Well, that does make sense, given his warning." Hermione aquiesced.

"I'm not sure I want to see a three headed dog, to tell the truth." Ron put in.

"Oh buck up Ron!" Hermione countered. "This could be really interesting. I mean, don't you wonder why it's there?"

"Maybe Snape feeds bad potions students to it."

Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't laugh.

As he had promised, as soon as their lunch was finished, Harry led his friends up the moving staircases and down the hall he had found himself trapped in the previous night.

"Do you see Filtch anywhere?" Ron asked, craning his head around to look behind him.

"Well if you keep talking he's sure to find us!" Hermione hissed at him. Harry wished he had the voice to tell them both to shut up. Instead he just grabbed them both by the shoulder and pointed at the door in question.

Walking up towards it he indicated that they should look at the animal through the keyhole.

Despite all the protests he made on the way up here, Ron quickly moved first towards the door.

"Wicked!" was the only thing he could say.

"Move over!" Hermione whispered and pushed him out of the way to look through the keyhole herself. After a moment she pulled away with a quiet "Hmmm." Harry and Ron exchanged a look and followed her back towards the main corridors.

As they walked Ron broke the silence. "What are they thinking having that *thing* in the school? It's right dangerous!"

"Well clearly Dumbledore wants it there to guard whatever he's hiding."

The boys came to a grinding halt and turned to stare at their friend. Ron voiced Harry's thoughts. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"It's guarding something. Didn't you see the trap door it was standing on?"

"Obviously not!"

"Well it was, seriously you two, don't you pay attention to anything?" And with that, she left her friends staring at her back as she walked off to potions class.

***

The trio wasn't able to focus on the dog for very long, because Potions class quickly turned into a disaster.

If it wasn't Neville continually making mistakes without meaning to, it was Harry making mistakes on purpose, throwing things into his cauldron willy-nilly.

The first few times, Hermione tried to gently correct him, but he just shrugged and turned from her.

"Harry you can't put that in there yet!" She hissed.

In reply Harry just wrote ‘I wanna see what colour it turns.'

A harsh tone came from behind him, then. "I suppose that would depend on what colour absolute foolishness is."

Harry felt himself begin to shake slightly, but hoped it didn't show. Instead he just narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, much like he'd seen Snape do many times, before turning to his teacher.

"While you may be muggle-raised and a first year student I expect more even from you Mr. Potter."

Harry, being that he couldn't respond, just stood there, with a carefully placed look of indifference.

Then, in the bravest feat of defiance seen in Snape's class in many years, he simply smirked and turned back to his now overflowing cauldron.

And he started to mop it up with his text book.

The liquid had barely soaked the page before Snape was giving him detention and ordering him from class.

*****

That evening he reported down to the potions classroom and was given a lecture on his arrogance and foolishness and how could he [Snape] have been surprised, seeing he was a ‘Potter'.

And then he was set to cleaning cauldrons.

He cleaned them with every ounce of muscle and will that he had, because inside he felt horrible for what he had done.

But, he thought, as he fell asleep in a heap on the floor, it would not stop him from doing it again.

*****

It had been 2 and a half hours the boy had been there. He hadn't noticed how much time had gone by until he heard the distinctive sound of --- silence.

Severus looked up to check on the boy, and upon seeing his fears realized dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

How did this happen again? How can a child fall asleep in the middle of cleaning bloody cauldrons?! It's not bloody right!

Unless, of course, if they were lacking sleep because of nightmares.

Stepping towards the boy he gathered him up, slightly surprised that Harry didn't move or awaken.

He reminded himself to send a message to Minerva once he had put the boy to bed.

***

And so it went on like that for 2 more days before Snape gave in and confronted Potter when he arrived for his 3rd detention in as many days.

The boy was standing before him, a mix of defiance and shyness.

"I grow weary of this game of yours Mr. Potter."

Harry was genuinely confused. What game did Snape mean?

"You're overwrought and acting out in a way that is extremely transparent to anyone with a modicum of life experience."

He just blinked at the man, expressionless, causing Severus to restate:

"You're an upset little boy who is acting out to get attention. And it is obvious to me what is going on."

Harry looked down at his fingers and scowled. Was he really that obvious?

"Clearly you are acting out in my class in order to get a detention. This way you are assured of being in my quarters at the right time to fall asleep and stay there."

Yes, apparently he was that obvious. He could feel himself blushing. He wanted to run from the room; in fact he almost did, but was frozen to the spot when his teacher continued.

"It is not necessary to go to such -annoying- extremes. If you want to stay here you are . . . able." He couldn't quite bring himself to say ‘welcome'.

Harry almost laughed in relief, until he heard his teacher continued.

"But you have to ask."

The boy stared up at him in shock, and paled. Why did everything seem to send the boy into fits? He calmed himself and tried to regulate his voice.

"You have to be able to ask for what you need, Harry. While your behaviour is somewhat understandable while you are young, as you get older you have to be able to ask for help. It is hard, but it is necessary."

He wrote the request out slowly and deliberately and passed it to his teacher.

"Yes, you may stay here. But there are rules. One: Only two or three nights a week. You have a house for a reason. It would do you no good to isolate yourself from your peers.

Two: no more ridiculous behaviour like that you have been displaying these past few days." His face became stern, and he added: "Am I understood?"

Harry nodded solemnly, made the sign for thank you and then grabbed up his parchment once more.

‘I asked before, you know. To come stay with you, I mean.'

Snape arched a brow. "Do tell. I don't recall being asked such a thing."

‘I didn't ask you. I asked McGonagall last week when I had a nightmare. She said no.' Involuntarily a pout came over his features. ‘She said you weren't to be woken.'

"Really?"

Harry thought it was funny how Snape could manage to sound polite and scary all at the same time.

That night, back in his bed in the tower, he pulled two signs from his small arsenal and created a personal sign for his potions teacher.