After lunch Harry accompanied his father back to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin tryouts. Ron and Hermione had gone off on their own so he was the only Gryffindor there. Plenty of Slytherins had come either to fly or to watch, but Draco Malfoy was no where in sight even though his thug-pals, Crabbe and Goyle were trying out.

As he and Severus found a place to sit in the stands, Harry noticed Alec's friends; Emma Davidson, Madalyn Grey, and Zach Phillips, a short distance away and waved to them. He was slightly surprised, but pleased when they waved back. Many of the other Slytherins gave him cool stares, but Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass nodded to him, if a bit hesitantly. At least with Severus there, no one made any move against him.

Alec was down on the field with the other applicants and Harry watched with interest as the Slytherin captain divided everyone up and had them begin flying manouvres. Quite a few of the old Slytherin team had graduated so they had a lot of open positions, too. After an hour or so, the team was chosen. Hugh Warrington, the seventh-year captain, was one of the Chasers, along with two fifth-years, Edward Vaisey and Marcela Brown. Crabbe and Goyle were Beaters. A fourth-year girl that Harry didn't know was the Keeper, and Alec Morland became Slytherin's new Seeker.

The younger boy waved excitedly to his friends when Warrington called out his name and his grin grew even wider when he spotted Harry sitting beside Severus.

Harry gave him a thumbs-up sign and turned to his father, smiling. "Yeah, he made it."

Severus nodded slightly, looking pleased. "Yes, he did well, thanks to you, Harry."

But Harry just gave a small shrug. "Oh, he was already good. I just gave him a couple of tips."

"It was still nice for you to help him and I do appreciate it," Severus replied.

"You're welcome," Harry told him. He considered saying something about how Severus was being a bit nicer to the Gryffindors in class and how he appreciated that...but they were surrounded by Slytherins and Harry wasn't sure his father would want him mentioning that in a crowd. He decided he would thank Severus for that later, sometime when they were alone.

Alec came over to Severus and Harry as they were leaving the stands. He was practically jumping up and down with excitement and thanked Harry so profusely that it was embarrassing.

When Severus finally mentioned that he and Harry needed to be going and they had left Alec and the other Slytherins behind, Harry asked in a low voice. "Is he related to the Creevy brothers?"

Severus actually chuckled. "Not to my knowledge, but he is giving a passable imitation of them."

"So much for Slytherin decorum." Harry grinned.

"Yes, I shall have to speak with him," Severus commented dryly.

They reached the castle and parted ways, Severus returning to their rooms and Harry heading up to Gryffindor Tower. Ron and Hermione were not in the common room, but Neville, Dean, and Seamus were seated on the floor by the fireplace, playing Exploding Snap.

Harry flopped down beside them. "Hi, guys."

"Congratulations on being Seeker. Course we knew you would be," Neville grinned at him.

"Where've you been?" Seamus asked, staring down at his hand of cards before slowly selecting one to play.

Harry hesitated, but then said firmly. "I went with Severus to watch the Slytherin tryouts."

The other boys all looked up at him in surprise.

"Why did you want to do that?" Dean wanted to know. "Unless maybe you were trying to hex them or something?" He finished thoughtfully.

Harry frowned. "I didn't try to hex them."

"Guess you couldn't, not right under Snape's nose," Dean agreed.

"I just wanted to spend some time with Severus. And I wanted to see how Alec Morland did." Harry lifted his chin and stared back at them, rather defiantly.

Seamus scowled. "I still can't believe you actually helped one of those sneaky little scumbags, Harry."

"He's not a sneaky little scumbag," Harry snapped.

"He's Slytherin, isn't he? You know what they're like," Seamus retorted. "Or have you forgotten that we're enemies? You used to hate Slytherin too, Harry. What happened? Oh, that's right, you're all buddy-buddy with Snape now."

"Severus is like my father," Harry said coldly. "And I'm not going to hate kids who've never done anything to me just because they're in Slytherin. That doesn't mean I'm disloyal to Gryffindor."

"The hell it doesn't!" Seamus glared. "Snape...your father? You have gone crazy, Potter."

"Just like I was crazy last year, when I said Voldemort was back? You're the one who keeps getting everything wrong, Finnegan!" Harry jumped to his feet at the same instant Seamus did, with Dean and Neville scrambling up half a second behind them.

"Hey, calm down, guys," Neville spoke up. "Of course Harry's loyal to Gryffindor, Seamus. Don't be an ass. I don't know about this thing with the Slytherins, but I do know that Harry's as true as they come."

"Yeah, come on, mate," Dean clapped a hand on Seamus' shoulder. He gave Harry a wry look. "I don't think helping Slytherins is a good idea, but I don't think Harry's going to throw our matches or anything."

"If you could think that, maybe I should just leave," Harry said coldly. He turned to go, but Dean stopped him.

"Hey, I said I didn't think that, all right? Sheesh, I think everybody needs to calm down and quit making a big deal about stuff."

There was a long uneasy silence then Seamus sighed and dropped back down to the floor. "Whatever. Let's finish the game."

Dean sat back down, too, and picked up his cards. "Neville, it's your turn."

Neville just looked at Harry questioningly. After a moment, Harry silently sat back down cross-legged on the floor. He didn't really feel like staying, not anymore, but if he left it would make this spat into something bigger than Harry wanted it to be.

Neville sat beside him and held his cards so Harry could see them too. "What do you think?"

He really wasn't that interested, but Harry looked over Neville's hand and pointed to a card. "Hmm, that one?"

They played Exploding Snap until Ron and Hermione came in just before dinner. Gradually the tension eased and at one point, when everyone was joking around and laughing, Harry happened to catch Seamus' eye and the other boy gave him a half-apologetic grimace. It made Harry feel a little better, but he still felt bothered that Seamus could so easily accuse him of disloyalty.

He mentioned it to Ron and Hermione as they walked down to dinner together.

"Well, it is kind of odd. I mean, until this year we were in that ‘Slytherin is the enemy' mindset, too," Ron pointed out, "and to be perfectly honest, I still think most of them are bad news. Maybe not all of them, but enough that you should watch your step."

"Yeah, but it is wrong for Slytherins and Gryffindors to just automatically be enemies," Harry answered. "The war's over, after all."

"Harry, there have been troubles between Slytherins and Gryffindors for years. Everything isn't going to smooth out overnight. Even if Voldemort is dead, there are still plenty of people who were Death Eaters or who at least supported the pureblood supremacy ideas. And yes, I know not all Slytherins believe that, but more of them do than any of the other Houses," Hermione said.

"But always seeing them as the bad guys isn't going to help. And if the Slytherins who are good people feel isolated from the rest of us, isn't that going to just drive them towards the Death Eater crowd?" Harry asked. He glanced around to make sure no one else was in ear shot and lowered his voice. "That's what happened with Severus."

Hermione looked troubled. "I don't know, Harry. I understand what you're saying, but I have to admit that I think Ron's right."

"Finally, you admit it," Ron grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Every dog has his day."

"Hey, I resent that," Ron protested.

Harry was quiet but before they entered the Great Hall, he asked "Do you think I'm being disloyal to Gryffindor?"

"Oh, Harry, of course not." Hermione gave him a quick hug and Ron added staunchly, "And if Seamus or anyone else says that, then he'll have a fight on his hands."

"Thanks," Harry told them. He followed them into the Great Hall, thinking that he really did have the best friends in the world.

***

The school year was well under way and the rest of the month passed quickly. Harry was busier than ever now that Quidditch practices were added to the schedule. He enjoyed his classes, especially since he no longer had to dread Potions, face Umbridge, or worry that one of his professors was actually a Death Eater in disguise, but the work was demanding and he and his friends spent a great deal of time studying.

His marks were good and overall, Harry felt that he was learning a lot, but he was still stuck on nonverbal magic. He'd made a little progress, but it was slow and sporadic. Sometimes he could make a spell partially work, but not often and when it did, he was exhausted from the effort and sometimes had a raging headache as well. Thankfully, Severus' pain-killing draughts always helped, but it was frustrating.

It was even more frustrating when some of his classmates began to improve with silent casting. By the end of September, Hermione and Pansy Parkinson could cast many spells nonverbally. They were the most advanced, but some of the others were catching up, including Ron and even Neville.

Severus was encouraging and kept telling him to be patient, that it would come, but after several weeks Harry noticed his father would watch him practice with an intense gaze and would tighten his lips when Harry failed.

"I'm sorry," Harry said one Friday afternoon when he and Severus were in the Room of Requirement working on the independent defense course. Harry had spent the past twenty minutes trying to cast a silent stunning spell against the dueling dummy, but with no success.

Severus shook his head. "There is no reason for you to apologise."

Harry gave him a bleak look. "I'm never going to get this."

"Of course you will, sooner or later," Severus reassured him. "It is true that some wizards never are able to master silent magic, but you are most definitely powerful enough to do so. And you will. You have a very strong mind and willpower. If you can throw off the Imperius curse, you can certainly learn nonverbal magic."

"I never could learn Occlumency," Harry pointed out.

Severus sighed. "That was more my fault than yours, Harry. You probably could learn it now, if you wished. I'm sorry that I caused you to fail."

"It was my fault too," Harry admitted in a low voice. But he really didn't want to think about anything that might possibly lead to remembering Sirius' death. He raised his wand to begin practising again, but then an idea suddenly struck him.

"Severus," he said slowly. "Do you think the slavery spell could have anything to do with me not being able to cast silently? Like if the master didn't want a slave to be able to do magic without him knowing about it so there's something in the slavery spell that would keep me from doing nonverbal magic?"

Severus looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't know," he admitted after a moment. "I haven't read of any condition like that. Nor has Albus, but I suppose it could be possible. I'll mention it to him tonight."

Some of the texts and papers from historians and scholars had arrived at Hogwarts by now in response to the letters Dumbledore had sent, and Severus and the headmaster studied them for an hour or two almost every day, usually in the late afternoons before dinner. Harry normally was with his friends during that time, but now he asked, "Can I come with you?"

Severus nodded. "If you would like. But right now we need to keep working on defense."

Harry nodded and tried to push thoughts of the slavery spell away. "Should I keep trying to cast silently?"

"No, I think not. We won't work on nonverbal magic again until we've discussed the situation with Albus. If the spell is preventing you from being able to cast silently and you're fighting against it that may be the cause of your headaches," Severus replied.

"I hate that damned spell!" Harry turned away, his face twisting with pain and anger.

Severus stepped close and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. He didn't say anything, but the warm gentle pressure of his hand was comforting. After a moment Harry drew a deep breath and tried to change the subject. "So what should I do?"

Severus gave Harry's shoulder a light squeeze and then stepped back, all business again. "A duel perhaps?"

Duelling was one of Harry's favorite activities and usually it put him in a good mood. But today he only nodded grimly and stalked to a spot at the other end of the room, opposite the dueling dummy (which was not the actual Toby they had discovered through letters to Norie and Zan, but a clever copy).

He spent the next hour pretending the dummy was Draco Malfoy and blasting it to dust.

"I think I'll call this one ‘Drake'," Harry announced at end of their session.

Severus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

A short time later they headed for Dumbledore's office and Severus told him about Harry's theory. The headmaster looked startled, then considered the idea.

"To be honest, I rather doubt it," he finally said. "Simply because the conditions of the slavery spell were stated very explicitly in the Malfoy book. I would think that if the slave were prevented from doing certain types of magic, then that would have been mentioned as well. Still, it is not out of the realm of possibility. Harry, perhaps it would be best if you did not attempt nonverbal magic for a while, at least until Severus and I have thoroughly examined all the information we can gather."

Harry just nodded, trying not to let his pain and anger show again. Unlike Dumbledore, he believed that the slavery spell could very well be the reason he was having such trouble with silent casting, and it was just one more way the spell had messed him up. But what good would it do to get angry? It wouldn't change anything.

He swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, but what about class? What should I do when we're supposed to work on nonverbal magic?"

"If I remember correctly, a good deal of whispering goes on during those times, doesn't it?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him.

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. Okay, whispering then."

He settled down in an armchair and tried to distract himself by writing a letter to Norie and Zan. Severus and Dumbledore selected sheets of parchment from a drawer in the headmaster's great mahogany desk and began reading and taking notes.

***

And then it was October.

The emerald leaves on the trees became scarlet and gold. Morning frost covered the ground like a thin silver blanket at dawn, though it soon melted under the sun's rays. School life continued in the comfortable routine of classes, studying, Quidditch practise, and weekend visits to Hogsmeade.

Harry tried to write to Norie and Zan every week and he wrote a letter to Remus, too, though he never could get up the nerve to send it and ended up burning it instead.

Hagrid remained distant and cool, and then one day he abruptly disappeared. Harry, Ron, and Hermione questioned first Severus, and then Dumbledore when Severus didn't know anything about the gamekeeper's disappearance. The headmaster explained that Hagrid had requested leave due to a personal matter, but that he planned to return by the end of term.

"Do you think it has anything to do with Grawp?" Ron asked when they were alone, but Harry and Hermione could only shrug helplessly.

Harry was still worrying over Hagrid later that day as he made his way to the library after Transfiguration. Severus had assigned him an essay on methods of counteracting dark objects for his advanced defense course and Harry had decided that he needed more information. He had climbed the fourth-floor staircase when he heard low angry voices and sounds of scuffling coming from a side corridor.

He hesitated for a second. He didn't know what or who was involved and he was alone. Hermione had had Arithmancy and Ron hadn't wanted to go to the library. But when he heard a muffled cry of pain, Harry drew his wand and ran around the corner.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were about halfway down the hall, and a smaller figure had doubled up in pain before them...Alec Morland. A roaring rage swept over Harry and at that moment he completely forgot that he was alone and outnumbered. Nothing mattered except keeping Malfoy and his goons from hurting anyone else.

If Harry hadn't been so overcome with fury, though, he might have noticed that Draco Malfoy actually did an odd thing: he gave Crabbe a rough shove and snapped, "What the hell's wrong with you? We don't hurt our own!"

A look of sulky confusion crossed over Crabbe's dull round face. "But you threatened him."

"I didn't hit him or curse him. He is Sly..." Draco started to reply, but before he could, Crabbe suddenly went rigid and fell to the ground. A split second later Goyle crashed to the floor like a gigantic tree collapsing, too.

Draco spun around to see Harry racing down the hall, wand pointed at him, lips moving as he whispered a spell. "Protego!"

Thin, snakelike cords shot from the end of Harry's wand, but Draco's shield charm had gone up in time and the ropes bounced harmlessly off of it. Harry circled him, whispering furiously under his breath as he cast one spell after another as quickly as he could.

Draco deflected a jelly-legs jinx, a babbling hex, and a disarming spell, just managing to keep his shield intact, but he didn't cast anything against Harry.

"Will you knock it off, Potter?" The blond boy hissed as beads of sweat formed on his forehead from the effort of maintaining his defenses. "Morland might need help. Crabbe kicked him in the ribs."

"As if you care!" Harry snapped back. "You set them on him. Three of you against a second-year! You're nothing but a bully,...a bully and a coward. You know everybody hates you, don't you, Malfoy? I don't even think the other Slytherins like you. I know Severus doesn't."

Malfoy's face crumpled and for a second Harry wondered wildly if he might break down, but then his face smoothed out into a cold emotionless mask, though his blazing eyes belied the façade. His wand hand twitched and he opened his mouth but before he could speak, a new voice broke in.

"Enough!" Dumbledore raised his hand and three wands...Draco's, Crabbe's, and Goyle's...flew into his grasp. "What is going on here?"

"They were beating up Alec Morland," Harry answered, keeping his own wand trained on Draco. "I was going to the library and I heard them."

Dumbledore knelt beside Alec, who had pushed himself into a sitting position by the wall. "Mr. Morland, are you hurt?"

Alec shook his head. "I'm okay, sir."

The headmaster stood and turned to Draco, his face as hard as stone. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco hesitated, then abruptly slumped. "You only listen to Potter. It doesn't matter what I say."

"On the contrary, Mr. Malfoy. I'm most interested in hearing your explanation for why a second-year student was lying on the floor in pain and why you were dueling with Mr. Potter, after you were specifically warned to be on your best behavior this year," Dumbledore responded.

"I didn't hurt Morland, and I didn't duel with Potter," Draco said flatly. "I only cast a Shield Charm."

Dumbledore's eyes flicked over to Harry in silent question.

Harry had a brief struggle with himself before finally answering. "I don't know which one of them hurt Alec. But Malfoy didn't cast anything against me."

"We shall discuss the matter further in my office." Dumbledore canceled the body-binds on Crabbe and Goyle and as they lumbered sullenly back to their feet, he looked at Harry.

"Harry, will you please take Mr. Morland to the infirmary? I would like for Madame Pomfrey to make certain that he is not injured."

Harry nodded and Dumbledore motioned to Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Come along, then." And the headmaster ushered the three older Slytherins away.

Harry pocketed his wand and knelt beside Alec. He put his hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Hey, are you really all right?"

Alec drew in a ragged breath and nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

Harry carefully helped him to his feet. "Well, come on then. Let's get you to the infirmary."