Harry and Ron were sitting in the common room, moaning over the latest potions homework. They were both finally settling into the Hogwarts routine, and even though the two friends were always slightly behind in their work, they weren't failing any of their classes.

They were even almost passing potions, which Fred and George Weasley said was something of a miracle, since Snape had a tendency of failing all the new Gryffindors the first semester just to make an impression. This announcement had led to a long lecture about justice and teachers' responsibilities from Hermione Granger, which in the end had Ron throwing a pillow at her. This made Hermione leave the room with her nose up in the air, but Harry felt certain she had been hurt by the other's ridicule. True, he thought Hermione in lecture mode was as irritating as everybody else, but he did notice that people tended to avoid her.

”Ron,” Harry said, looking up from his essay (still 5 inches too short of the required two feet)

”What?” Ron looked delighted at the chance of having an excuse not to continue reading about acids.

”Have you noticed something... odd with Hermione Granger?”

”Other than that she hasn't preached for us in a week? And I would call a relief and not odd, by the way.”

”Yeah... I guess... But I just thought....maybe she's a bit... Just forget it.”

”Harry. She's a girl. They do weird stuff all the time. And she's irritating. Just leave it,” Ron said, obviously flustered by Harry's concern.

Harry just ducked his head and went with it. He didn't want to make Ron angry with him.

A couple of minutes later Ron once again decided he needed to focus on something else other than his homework and looked around the room for something to talk about. As his gaze passed over Harry, he got an idea.

”How come you never spend any time with your cousin?” he asked.

”Why?” Harry said warily.

”I just figured you'd be happy to have someone you knew here, in your grade,” Ron feel silent for a moment then said: ”Now that I think about it... You never even talk with him or anything.”

Harry flushed a little.

”No. I guess not. We never really got along. I told you that.”

”But you live with them, your aunt and uncle, I mean? Wow, they must've been happy to have both their...sons... go to Hogwarts. It's a privilege you know. And do they call you their son, I mean, since you're adopted and all?”

Harry's cheeks were painfully red by now, as he tried to come up with answers.

”I don't think I'm adopted. They're just my guardians. And I'm definitely not their son. I just call them aunt and uncle, not mum and dad. I'm just really grateful that they took me in, instead of sending me to an orphanage or something.” Harry stopped to draw his breath, finally finished with his recitation.
Ron obviously realized he was stepping on unknown territory and backed off, embarassed.

”Sorry mate. I was just curious. I know I don't get along with my relatives all the time. I'm sure they still love you very much though.” Ron tried to sound reassuring.

Harry looked doubtful, but nodded.

”Sure, Ron. So what's your answer for number eighteen?”

HPHPHPHP

When Harry smiled and said good morning to Neville the next day, he noticed that the chubbier boy seemed on the verge of tears.

After Neville had proved to be unsuccessful in most classes except from herbology, potions was still the one that caused him the most trouble. Harry privately thought it was more because of nervousness than anything else, but kept his opinions to himself. He had realized everyone usually ended up happier that way. No complications unless it was needed, could be his motto. Since he had survived eleven years with it, he figured it was pretty good. However, Neville looked a lot like he needed some happiness at the moment.

”What's wrong, Neville?” Harry said in a hushed voice, guessing his classmate wouldn't want any attention right now.

”It's Professor Snape, Harry. I just don't know what I'm gonna do! He said he'd give me detention if I do it again, or if disturb him or irritate him or anything, but the thing is; I always irritate him!” Neville gushed, obviously relieved to have someone to confide in.

”Calm down, Neville. What did Professor Snape say?” Harry said, leaning forward and placing his hands on his thighs in what he hoped was a reassuring position.

”You know I'm no good at potions, Harry, and I don't think that's ever gonna change. But Snape said that if I explode another cauldron or come to class with dirty or disturbed clothes or just say anything that makes him irritated, he'll give me detention for a week. And I just know that's going to happen, and I'll lose lots of points. Harry, you've got to help me!” Neville was sounding like he was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.

”Neville. It's going to be fine. If you don't calm down, they're going to strap you down in some mental institution,” Harry said with a laugh.

A shadow darkened Neville's eyes for a moment, then passed.

”What should I do, Harry? Just look at my shirt. I've got jam all over it, and we have potions now. I don't have time to go up and change!” He help up his offending shirtsleeves, and Harry had to agree that yes, they were quite filthy. Professor Snape was rather strict on personal grooming and hygiene, even if his hair could need a washing or two. He'd made more than one student dissect toads for coming to class with food stained clothes. Harry smiled.

”Oh, don't worry about it. I'm pretty good at removing stains, and those aren't even dry yet.” Harry reached for the salt shaker that was on the table.

”First, you need to pour some salt on it, it'll pull the stain out and stop in from drying into the fabric. Be careful so that the salt doesn't fall off, though, and we'll just finish breakfast and remove the rest before class, okay?” Harry smiled at Neville who looked perplexed, but obeyed.

The two boys had a quick breakfast and ran to one of the boys' lavatories. They chose one in the dungeons, to make sure they would not be late for class.

Harry removed the salt, and rinsed the shirt out with cold water, and then took some of the bathroom soap. He rubbed it into the stains, and let it sit for a couple of minutes while Neville quizzed him on the homework.

After reciting the five most common acids and bases, and their uses, Harry washed the shirt again, using the hottest water he could stand. Luckily, the stain was so fresh that the only the faintest trace of the unfortunate jam could be seen, and only if you looked close. With a smile, he dried the shirt with a useful little spell Angelina Johnson had taught him three days before.

Neville was looking at him with a look of worship on his face.

”Where did you learn how to do that?” he asked.

”My aunt taught me, and I read it in some magazines. It's pretty useful to know,” Harry replied, indicating the shirt. ”You never now when you'll need it.”

”I wish my grandma taught me stuff like that, but we don't really talk that much.”

”Yeah, you told me you live with your grandma. Is she... nice to you?” Harry looked down at his fingernails as he waited for the response.

”Mhm... I guess she is. She's just got a lot on her mind sometimes. They almost didn't think I had enough magic to get in here, she and my great-uncle Algie.”

”I thought you just had to have magic to get in here. Isn't that enough?” Harry asked.

Neville looked confused. ”No, not at all. This is a really exclusive school. Most parents would kill to have their kids go here,” he said. ”There aren't that many wizarding kids, but more than this, otherwise we wouldn't be able to survive.”

Harry nodded and they went off to class. When they were waiting in line outside the classroom, Harry whispered a quick explanation to Ron, and ignored his cousin and Malfoy, who were both looking at him like he had dipped his head in a bucket of rotten fish.

Professor Snape seemed to be in a particularly bad mood that day. As he assigned them their newest potion, Harry could sense the Professor's eyes as they roamed the classroom to stop on Neville. He sneered, and stalked forwards towards Neville' cauldron.

Harry had no idea what came over him. Maybe it was that recklessness that occasionally gripped him (and more often got him into trouble) that made him do it.

When the Potions Master came closer, Harry quickly stuck his leg out and tripped him. The tall man stumbled and fell to the floor in a blur of dark cloth. The entire room burst into laughter and Harry's heart soared when he saw Neville's relieved face. The happy feeling disappeared abruptly when Professor Snape got up from the floor and turned his gaze on Harry.