Was it  worth it to run down to the stands? He asked a portrait of an old witch who was busy embroidering .

‘Excuse me, do you know if the Quidditch match is over already?'

‘I believe so,' she answered unentusiastically, though not unfriendly. ‘About half an hour ago a whole herd of students went stampeding through.'

Harry felt a twinge of disappointment, but mostly he felt anxious. ‘And do you know who won?' he asked.

The old witch shook her head. ‘You'll have to find out yourself. I wasn't interested in Quidditch when I was alive, and I'm not going to start now.'

Harry was already sprinting up the stairs to Gryffindor tower. ‘Thanks!' he called back over his shoulder.

A roar of celebration greeted him whe he entered the common room. Several hands pulled him out of the portrait hole.

‘We won!' yelled Ron, bounding into sight and brandishing the silver Cup in Harry's face. ‘We won! Four hundred and fifty to  hundred and forty! We won!'

Harry looked around, his heart thumping with sheer elation; Ginny suddenly  ran towards him and threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, Harry kissed her.

After several long moments they boke apart. The room had gone very quiet. Then several people wolf-whistled. Harry looked over the top of Ginny's head to see Dean Thomas holding a shattered glass, Hermione was beaming, but his eyes sought Ron. At last he found him, still clutching the Cup and wearing an expression appropriate to having been clubbed over the head. For a fraction of a second they looked at each other; then Ron gave a tiny jerk of his head that Harry understood to mean, ‘Well - if you must.'

Harry grinned down at Ginny, and together they left through the portrait hole, away from the  sea of curious eyes.

It was warm and sunny outside as they settled down next to the lake. Harry couldn't remember when he had last felt so happy. Suddenly Quidditch didn't seem as important as before and so it wasn't until a few hours later that he asked Ginny to tell him more about the Quidditch match.

After she had filled him in, she asked,

‘So, how did your detention go?'

Harry groaned. ‘Don't ask. It was horrible.'

‘Did he say how many more you'll have to serve?' Ginny inquired.

‘No, it depends on how...' Harry suddenly jumped to his feet and shouted, ‘Oh, shit! I've got to find Hermione!'

Ginny had a slight frown on her face as she looked at him, confused.

‘Sorry, Ginny,' Harry said, feeling a little embarassed. ‘Let's just go back and I'll explain later, okay?'

A short time later Ginny headed back to the Common room while Harry was sprinting toward the library, rightfully assuming that Hermione would have taken refuge there from the noisy celebrations to get some peace for studying.

When he sat down next to her, she gave him a bewildered look.  ‘Harry, what's up?'

Harry took a deep breath as he started to explain, a little incoherently.

‘Hermione, please, you've got to help me. It's about Snape's detention... You can't imagine how horrible it was today.'

‘He didn't cane you again, did he?' Hermione suddenly sat upright, looking extremely worried.

Harry felt a rush of gratitude when he caught on to her protectiveness and shook his head. ‘No, nothing like that. He didn't hit me or threaten me with the cane. He even healed me just like he  promised. It was just...well...he was just his usual horrid self.' He swallowed thickly. ‘The bastard,' he added.

Hermione looked at him reproachfully.

‘Sorry,' Harry said hastily, ‘but you can't imagine what he did! Remember that you said yesterday he treated me decently and I said it was just unfortunate that he needed to whack me before he could do so? Anyway, it obviously didn't last until this morning, because he snarled at me right from the beginning. Then I had to drink a horrible potion that was supposed to enhance my emotions, and then he put a bracelet around  my wrist that measured my pulse and told me to stay calm and then he made be BREW! Together with him!'

He was taken aback on seeing Hermione's lips twitch. ‘ It's not funny! You can imagine the kind of comments he made  the whole time!'

Hermione tried to calm him down. ‘Yes I can; it was just a little funny the way you said it. But I don't understand. How am I supposed to help you?'

Harry quickly explained exactly how and then looked at her apologetically. ‘I'm sorry, Hermione, it seems I set up something like a detention for you.'

Hermione shook her head. ‘Me of all people, who has always warned you about that stupid so-called "Prince"."  She sighed.   "All right. Do I have to go there now?'

‘I think so... he said this afternoon,' Harry muttered. ‘Thanks, Hermione. You're a real friend.'

‘Yes, I am,' Hermione said dryly, all amusement now washed from her expression. ‘And as a real friend I am helping you on the condition that in spite of being deeply in love, you will not neglect your studies! You'd better stay here while I go see Snape.'

‘Yes, mum,' Harry replied, and upon seeing the look on her face hastily added, ‘Okay, okay, I get it. You're right. I don't have my school things with me, so can I borrow from you what I need?'

‘Sure.' Hermione smiled at him. ‘I'll be off then.'

Harry's gaze followed her as  she left the library without looking back. He admired her friend for the calmness she displayed --  after all, it was Snape's office where she was heading! Sighing, he started his Defence homework . The last lesson with Snape had been pretty awful, and he was determined that doing poorly on his homework would not become a reason for further trouble with him.

He had almost finished it when Hermione came back. She was looking thoughtful.

‘Did he give you a hard time?' Harry asked at once.

‘Well, he is Snape,' she answered, evading a direct answer. ‘Harry, we won't be able to start practising straight away. I need to think properly about how best to do this with you, all right?'

‘Er, yeah, sure,' Harry replied, a little surprised. ‘ Just tell me when you're ready.'

The following week passed all too quickly for Harry's liking. Being around Ginny just felt so right; he didn't even mind all the gossiping that took place about their relationship. On the contrary, it was a nice change for people to  talk about something that made him feel so good compared to  talking about Harry having performed some horrible dark magic or being the first student caned  in several decades.

Even Snape failed to wind him up. Harry came to his Defence class well prepared-he had put a lot of work into his homework and had done a fair bit of research in the process. Of course that didn't mean that he didn't get any sarcastic remarks from Snape at all, but he somehow was so at ease with himself that he didn't really care. Hermione was very pleased with him when the bell rang, and he hadn't lost a single point for Gryffindor.

His potion-brewing could have gone worse as well. Sure, without the Prince's book his performance wasn't fantastic, but he was determined not to give Snape the pleasure of hearing from Slughorn that he had failed his class, so he managed to collect his concentration and at least brew an acceptable potion.  

Slughorn didn't seem too surprised about Harry's decline in skill, in fact he blinked at him and whispered conspiratorially, ‘Feeling a bit distracted, Harry m'boy? Quite an exciting week you've had, both good and bad...' Harry didn't feel the need to correct this opinion.

When the next weekend approached, Harry couldn't help feeling apprehensive. Hermione had not practised with him yet, which made him feel a little disappointed, though he could see her point. She had blatantly refused just making him drink that potion and trying to rile him up.

‘Honestly Harry, it just wouldn't work. You wouldn't get angry at me so easily. I would really have to be mean to you and you can't ask  me to do that,' she had said and upon seeing his disappointment added, ‘I'm afraid you'll have to test your self-control with Snape, but I will help you! I searched the library for books on relaxation techniques, but there wasn't anything, so I've owled my parents and asked them to send me books. I'm sure they'll  find some for me.'

And indeed they did. On Friday morning, when the post was delivered, three owls approached Hermione, each delivering a neatly wrapped package in the unmistakable shape of a book.

Students were so used to packages of that shape arriving for Hermione that they didn't pay much attention.  Hermione opened the packages and beamed.  She showed Harry the books, and he read the titles: Calming the Anxious Mind, A Guide to Meditation, and Relaxation and Stress Management Techniques.

They sounded helpful, though Harry couldn't help but groan internally about the mere volume of paper. He felt immensely relieved when Hermione said,

‘Maybe I'll  skim over the books first and decide which one you should just read and with which one we'll  have to work together on. Oh Harry, this is so good. I'm sure you will be just fine when we‘ve  finished these.'

Harry was  as amazed as always about the efficiency Hermione displayed when it came to studying. He felt a little guilty when he thought about all the time this would cost Hermione but was reassured when he saw the obvious enthusiasm in her eyes as she wrapped the books again, hiding their titles.

Saturday morning came and Harry found himself in a bad mood. He was dreading his upcoming detention with Snape. He could picture  Snape doing his best to wind him up humiliating him again as much as he could, and there was no denying Snape's talent in that field.

Everybody around him was chatting happily as this was also a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry sighed. The first Hogsmeade weekend after he had gotten together with Ginny, and he had to spend his Saturday in detention with Snape!

Anger bubbled up inside of him. He had been caned, after all; hadn't he been punished enough?

A little while later, a still furious Harry stood in front of Snape's door and tried to calm himself. Angry as he was, he had enough sense to be aware that it wouldn't help to display insolence to Snape right from the beginning.

‘Good morning, sir,' he said stiffly upon entering the professor's office. Snape was sitting at his desk and a quick glance to the other side of the room confirmed Harry's fears: the table there, again, was prepared for brewing.

‘Potter.' The professor scrutinized him shortly before gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. ‘Take a seat.'

Harry obeyed silently.

‘Did you remember to bring the bracelet with you?'

‘Yes, sir.' Harry pulled it out of his robe and placed it on the desk before him. In fact, he hadn't remembered; Hermione had and given it to him right before he went down to the dungeons, but he saw no need to tell Snape that. He realized, that given his present mood, it was probably  best to say as little as possible.

‘I am sure you would have had numerous ideas on how to spend a nice, sunny day like this in Hogsmeade,' Snape said in his silky voice. ‘And with whom,' he added, showing his yellow teeth as he smiled briefly.

Harry already felt the blood pounding in his ears, staring at Snape and thinking how much he disliked the professor.

‘So let's hope today's outcome will be worth both our trouble,' the man continued, opening a drawer of his desk, taking out two vials and placing them on top. ‘Did you practise with Miss Granger, Potter?'

That was the question that Harry had expected and had not been looking forward to.

‘No, I haven't,' he muttered and saw Snape raise his eyebrows.

‘Well, at least this time, unlike during our Occlumency lessons, you admit it openly. One should be thankful for small progresses, I suppose,' his teacher merely replied.

Harry wasn't sure whether Snape was angry or not, but after all, the man hadn't intended Harry to practise originally. Rather, it had been his own idea, so there was really no need to apologize. At the moment he found he couldn't care less if Snape thought he had been lazy or not, but he felt the need to explain for Hermione's sake. He knew that she would hate it if any teacher thought she had failed to fulfill a task.

‘Hermione felt she needed some more time to prepare herself for working with me... sir,' he added upon seeing his teacher frown. ‘She asked her parents to send her some books on meditation and relaxation techniques and said we would work on them together.'

Snape's eyebrows shot up. ‘Meditation? She isn't planning on teaching you Yoga as well, is she?' he asked sarcastically.

That did it. Harry felt his resolve to stay silent crumble. ‘Don't ridicule her like that!' he shouted at Snape. ‘At least she's trying to help me, unlike you!  You're  just using this opportunity to make me miserable; you are just a sadistic...' he stopped, panting.

Snape leaned forward and brought his face closer to Harry's. ‘Watch your attitude, Potter,' he hissed.

‘But what I said is true!' Harry insisted, in spite of knowing in the back of his mind that he would have to pay for his outburst. ‘She really put a lot of thought into this and sacrificed her time to help me! And you're just make fun of her because she does a better job than you will ever do!'

Snape's voice was a dangerous whisper. ‘I'm warning you for the last time, Potter....'

Harry remained silent, staring at Snape, refusing to blink. His teacher drew a deep breath and continued.

‘I will not tolerate your insolence, Potter, and you will not prevent me from expressing my astonishment about Miss Granger's ... unconventional methods; although, having had to teach the know-it-all for so many years I should have expected something like this...' He shook his head, his lips twitching and went on ‘ After all, she is a mu...'

‘Don't you dare call her Mudblood!' Harry shouted, interrupting him. ‘That's the real problem you have with her, isn't it? You Slytherins are all alike, you can't stand that you Purebloods aren't  always the smartest people in the world!'

Snape stared at him. ‘Potter, you will stop this instant or you will regret it,' he said slowly.

‘No, I will not! I saw how you called my mum a Mudblood, remember? Just the way your precious Malfoy does with Hermione!' He panted hard and felt real hate towards the man in front of him. ‘You must have really despised my mum; she stood up for you and you called her "filthy mudblood"!'

Snape's eyes flashed. ‘How dare you...' His face twisted and Harry leaned back in his chair as far as he could, knowing he had gone too far. He wouldn't put it past Snape to curse him here and now. Instinctively he scrambled for his wand to protect himself.

‘Expelliarmus!'

Even in his present state of mind he couldn't help feeling amazed at the speed in which Snape had acted. His professor stood in front of him, having caught Harry's wand with his left hand and making a visible effort to calm down while he was staring down at his student.

Harry slowly got up from his chair to get to the same height as Snape, maintaining eye-contact while he saw Snape pocket his wand in his peripheral vision.  He didn't think  that Snape would curse him now, but still, he flinched whenSnape doled out a flick of his wand. Snape's cupboard door burst open and the cane came flying into Snape's outstretched hand.

‘Over the desk, Potter.  Right now!' His eyes flashed, but his voice was calm, deadly calm, Harry thought.

‘No,' Harry said simply. There was no way he would let himself be whacked by Snape now. Even if Snape looked remarkably calm, Harry didn't doubt that the strokes the man would deal out would be more than fierce.

But, more importantly, Harry had said nothing but the truth and did not deserve another caning.

‘You refuse?' Snape asked slowly.

‘Yes, I do.' Harry didn't avert his eyes and was pleased to notice that his voice sounded calm as well and didn't shake.

Snape placed Harry's wand on the desk between them.

‘Get out of my sight then,' he said in a toneless voice.

Harry grabbed his wand and pocketed it. Slowly he walked to the door, and without looking back at his professor he left the office and quietly closed the door behind him.

Outside on the corridor he drew a deep breath, shaking all over, and suddenly broke into a run, which he didn't slow down until he arrived in Gryffindor tower.