Severus sighed as he sat down at his desk. It was the middle of the summer and he had to go through the task of emptying old potion flasks from the year before. He never liked this job, especially if he spilled a student’s mediocre potion on himself. He lined up the first years potions in front of him, he had made sure to label the ones that were good last term. He had been the potion’s teacher for almost six years, but still Dumbledore would not let him teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had applied yet again but once again he was turned down. They could never keep anyone for more then a year to teach that subject. It had been that way when he’d been in school as well.

Severus stared at the task in front of him; he slowly lifted one of the mediocre flasks to vanish the Potion, and then clean it out when suddenly he was attacked. He hadn’t seen his office door open, or notice a small miniature version of James Potter running over to him. Harry Potter was now sitting in his lap; the flask he had been holding had been knocked out of his hand and hit the desk. It shattered and the potion began eating away at his desk. Quickly, Severus vanished it from his desk.

“Potter!” he yelled now looking at the grinning boy.

“Why did you call me Potter?” he asked, “That’s my last name you know.”

“I know it is. Did you see what you did to my desk? What have I told you about being in here?” Severus snapped.

“To be careful,” Harry said looking down ashamed. “I am sorry Mr. Snape.”

“In the future please be more careful. Now why are you in here? You aren’t supposed to be down here by yourself,” Severus said starting to feel his anger leave as it always did with Harry.

“I wasn’t. Filch is cleaning the dungeons but he is grouchy and Mrs. McGonagall said you were here today. So I came to see you,” Harry answered.

Severus sighed; he wondered why Minerva had left him with Filch. Whenever Filch was supposed to be watching Harry, he ended up losing him. A few months ago, they had looked around for him for an hour; it was a couple first year Hufflepuff’s who found him in the Owlery petting the owls. Harry did not like Filch and Filch didn’t like anyone but his cat. He didn’t care about the safety of a small boy.

“It’s my birthday today,” Harry said. “I am now six years old. And guess what?”

“I have no idea,” Severus said hoping that he wasn’t going to name off his presents.

“I have a new toy broom stick. Mr. Flitwick gave it to me. I still want to try a real broom stick but Madam Hooch said I had to wait a year, then I can try the school ones. Not alone though. But Mrs. McGonagall said I could play with it in the Quidditch Pitch later,” Harry said.

“Where is she now?” Severus asked.

“Hogsmeade. She went with Mr. Dumbledore. Hagrid is in the forest and I’m not allowed in there. So I had to stay with Filch, only I didn’t want to. I don’t like him. He called me a brat.”

“I call you a brat,” Severus said with some amusement, which he did all the time and the boy still liked him.

“But you aren’t mean. And I like you. You fixed my glasses for me,” Harry answered. “And you gave me a fake wand! It turns into a cat. I like cats.”

“I know you do,” Severus said; he had known the boy wanted a wand to play with. When he saw the ones that turned into cats he knew he had to get one for him. “Though I don’t know why.”

“One saved me from my uncle,” Harry answered. “He slapped me then it attacked him. And when I had to sleep outside it slept on me so I was warm. Then I ended up here . . . I don’t know how that happened though.”

He was surprised McGonagall hadn’t shown Harry that she could turn into a cat. Then again, he might want her to teach him how to do it. Severus looked at all the flasks on the desk and realized that the boy could be useful. The quicker he cleaned the flasks, the quicker he would get home.

“How would you like to help me today, Harry?” he asked.

Of course Harry nodded eagerly.

Harry ran through the corridors frantically, carrying the cleaning solution with him. He could hear Filch wheezing somewhere from behind trying to find him. Harry didn’t like it when he had to be left with Filch but the rest of the teachers were gone. Harry didn’t like summer very much. There weren’t very many people in the castle. They had all gone on Holidays. Hagrid was in the forest again so he couldn’t play with him. Mrs. McGonagall was getting ready for the new school year. He knew Mr. Snape was at home, and the other teachers were on vacation.

He panicked when he saw Mrs. Norris coming from one direction and he could hear Filch coming from the other. He started to run back and forth wishing he could hide it somewhere. Then Filch couldn’t prove that he had stolen it. It served him right for being so mean and boring. Suddenly a door seemed to appear out of thin air. Harry froze and stared at it.

He had been taught enough about the castle and knew he couldn’t go somewhere that he hadn’t been before. Yet he was curious and desperate. He slowly walked over to the door and opened it. All caution was forgotten when he looked inside and saw how large the room was and all the stuff it contained. He shut the door behind him sure that the teachers wouldn’t mind he was here. He knew what was dangerous and what wasn’t. As long as he didn’t touch anything bad, he would be ok. He looked around at all the tall towering items wondering where they had come from.

There were old broomsticks, a lot of books and jars of funny stuff. There was a lot of furniture as well. There were alleyways between the large piles of hidden objects. He decided not to touch the jars or the bloodstained ax. He walked further into the room. The windows in the room were so large and high. Sunlight came in brightly. Harry stared mesmerized by all the stuff. He saw old cloaks and hats as well. He didn’t think it would hurt to touch them. He decided not to go too much further. He didn’t want to get lost. He still could see the door from where he stood.

He spotted a tiara not to far from where he stood and headed over to examine it. It was still in good shape, maybe a little old. There was a picture of a bird on it. He could perhaps give it to Mrs. McGonagall, or Mrs. Sprout. There was also Madam Pomfrey, he liked her because she could make cuts disappear quickly without hurting him. He remembered if his Aunt cleaned his cuts, she used stuff that stung.

He slipped the tiara in his robes’ pockets and turned to go toward the door. He would have to come back someday to see more, but he knew right now he couldn’t stay long. Mrs. McGonagall had promised she would take him to the Quidditch Pitch so he could ride his toy broom stick, he didn’t want to worry her. He left the room scowling, he wished they would let him go off on his own. He knew where he was allowed to go and where he wasn’t allowed to go. He would never disobey what if they sent him back to live with his aunt and uncle? What if they decided to start hitting him?

Harry didn’t know where Filch was but he knew he was on the seventh floor. He wasn’t far from his sleeping quarters. He was allowed to play in there by his self. When he had friends someday, he would even be allowed to have them in his sitting room. At the moment he had not been introduced to children his own age. He wished he had; he got lonely sometimes and the teachers were always busy.

He turned the corridor and walked right into Mrs. McGonagall.

“There you are!” she said hugging him close. “I was worried. We’ve been looking for you for a while Harry. Where did you wander off to this time?”

Harry didn’t know if he was supposed to be in the strange room so he just shrugged; he didn’t want to get in trouble. “Walking around.”

“You stole something of Mr. Filch’s and ran off with it,” she said sternly. “Where is it?”

“Oh, maybe I dropped it,” Harry said; he had set it down in the room when he had gone inside. “I was running. I got tired and walked.”

“Well, are you ready to play on your broom stick?” she asked taking him by the hand, grasping very hard.

“Yes,” he answered he hoped she wouldn’t follow him into his room when he grabbed his toy broom stick.

When they reached his room, he pulled away from her and ran into his room. He ran to one of his toy chests and pulled the tiara out of his pocket. He hid it away underneath a lot of the toys he hadn’t played with for a while. He dashed over to his broom stick and hurried back to meet Mrs. McGonagall. He wondered what Mr. Snape was doing at the moment.

“I’m sorry Harry but the answer is no,” Minerva said, steering herself for a temper tantrum.

“But why not? I’ve always wanted to know how people get sorted. I only hear the big kids talk about it. I want to see how,” Harry protested.

“You will. I want you to be surprised when you start your first year. You can come into the Great Hall after the sorting,” she answered.

It was the day the students would be arriving for a new year at Hogwarts to begin. They were in Harry’s room getting ready. Over the summer she had taken him to Diagon Alley to get him fitted for his own Hogwarts robes. He had been wearing everyday robes before but she decided to let him have his very own Hogwarts robes for the feast.

She had been named his Guardian so she had access to his own personal Gringotts Bank fund that his parents had left for him. The young boy didn’t realize how much money he had and she wouldn’t allow him access to it on his own until he was at least thirteen or fourteen-years-old. She would give the money she figured he needed for a school year when he was a student, otherwise he would spend too much of it. She had a feeling it wouldn’t go well. Though Harry didn’t act like a spoiled child, he did act like one growing up. He wanted more independence.

She was glad to see that he was acting this way. She had been worried he would be a withdrawn child as he grew up after four years of abuse. However, he seemed to be a normal six-year-old boy with wants and needs. He could be very loud when he wanted, though he did obey when he was told to do something. She was glad to see that he was happy.

The Dursleys should never have had children and Petunia Dursley should never have been granted custody of Dudley again. Vernon Dursley was serving time for child abuse for a while. Petunia however had just been charged for enabling child abuse, though she almost went to jail with her husband. Though it seemed, under the influence of Veriterisum that Petunia had been abused herself shortly after Harry had arrived. Vernon took his anger out on her as well as Harry. So she did what she could to prevent herself from getting a beating. She had thought Harry was too young to cook as well. She wanted her husband to see she could be cruel to the boy also so she wouldn’t get hit.

“I did want him!” she had yelled. “He had been apart of Lily after all. Though I never agreed with the freakish nature, they had, I still loved them. My first instinct was to protect me and my son. What do you suppose would have happened to the boys if he had permanently hurt me?”

No one agreed with her. She should have told someone and protected Harry, Dudley and herself. Since Petunia had only been the way she was under the influence of her husband, her son had been returned to her as well. She was charged a hefty price that Minerva knew she was still paying. She had lost everything since she couldn’t afford it and had been forced to move into a smaller place. She also had to work herself which it seemed she really hadn’t done before. She had been a full time mother.

“Mrs. McGonagall . . . maybe I want to be surprised now,” Harry said as she started to brush his hair which never lay flat.

“Harry, someday you will see the sorting. Not until you are eleven though all right? You’ll thank me when you are older,” Harry let out a snort, an annoying habit he had picked up from Snape. “Do not snort at me young man. Now come, we need to get to the Great Hall. You will wait in a small chamber off from the Great Hall. I’ve already brought some of your toys in there. When we are ready for you, we will bring you out.”

There was another reason for keeping Harry in the small chamber. Albus had wanted to talk to the students once again, particularly the first years about his presence. They knew that the students knew Harry was there, but some of the first years might not. They didn’t want the students yelling about him or trying to see him. He still didn’t know he was famous and he didn’t need to know just yet.

“All right, all right,” he said as he stood up. “But everything is eleven you know. I don’t get a wand, my own real broom stick, I can’t do magic . . . what else do I have to wait until I am eleven for?”

“You’ll have to wait until you are twelve for your own broomstick,” Minerva informed him as she took his hand.

“What!?” Harry shouted. “How come . . . ? Oh Mrs. McGonagall . . . ”

“It’s the rule for everyone, Harry,” she said as they left the room. “No first year students are allowed their own broomstick. You still have to follow the rules even though you live here. Every witch and wizard has to wait until they are eleven before they get their own wands or come to Hogwarts. Now stop sulking.”

Harry glared at his feet as they walked through the corridors. He didn’t even look up when they walked past Nearly Headless Nick, one of Harry’s favourite ghosts. Nearly Headless Nick’s head was held on by a bit of skin. He could flap his head off anytime he wanted, and Harry enjoyed watching. Another ghost he really liked was Peeves. Peeves knew better then to do anything to Harry while he was still really young so he hadn’t suffered first hand from him. Harry had seen Peeves pull pranks on others. He liked it when Peeves bothered Filch.

“When it is my sorting, do you think I will be in Gryffindor?” Harry asked when they were closer to the Great Hall.

“Is that where you want to be?” she asked him with some pride in her voice. She hoped he would be, she was Head of Gryffindor house and she was his Guardian. She made his decisions, though she didn’t mind when the other teachers did for him. They had all agreed to take care of him, but she couldn’t stand for him to have to go to another teacher with his problems.

“Yeah my parents were there,” he said. “I don’t know about Slytherin ‘cause I heard they like the Dark Arts. I like Snape but I don’t know . . . ”

“What do you know about the Dark Arts?” she asked sharply.

He wasn’t old enough to know anything about dark magic. If Severus Snape had been telling him anything, she would have something to say about it.

“The big kids,” he said with a shrug. “They say they are bad and the Slytherin’s like them. What are they?”

“They are bad and that’s all I am going to tell you. When you are older, you’ll learn about them more.” She answered. “But what about Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw houses?” she added wanting to change the subject before he could protest.

“They seem nice . . . but I want to be in Gryffindor.” Harry said.

She led him into the Great Hall. Everything appeared to be ready for the evening. All the candles that floated above their heads were lit. The four house tables were in place and so was the teachers table. A banner welcoming the students back was above the teacher’s table. Some of the teachers had taken their places. Severus was reading the Evening Prophet. Professor Sprout was in conversation with Professor Sinistra. The new Muggle Studies teacher Professor Quirrel was sitting by himself.

He was a young man who had graduated not too long ago. He had applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job but it had been given to an older wizard, Professor Werton. Professor Werton had been fighting the Dark Arts all his life, Albus had thought he would be better suited for the job. Minerva had to wonder if he would last longer then a year this time. He was currently in conversation Professor Kettleburn.

Minerva took Harry into the chamber right beside the one that the first year students would stand in. This was a larger one with a fire place and furniture. She had set up an area for him to play in, although she doubted he would play. He would likely try to listen in onto the sorting. He was a curious disappointed six-year-old after all. She was a step ahead of him, she was going to lock him in and make sure he couldn’t hear anything that was happening in the Great Hall or in the chamber the first years would stand in.

“Will it be long?” he asked her as she turned to leave.

“It shouldn’t be. The students should be arriving now, which means I have to go. I am going to lead the first years into the Great Hall so I have to get into the Entrance Hall to greet them.” she answered.

Harry nodded and sat down between the toys and books. He opened one of his books; he knew how to read certain words now. Though he didn’t have a tutor in the summer, she did keep up with his schooling. His tutor would be coming back the next day for him to start his education back up. He would be learning the basics’ children his age needed to know but also more about the wizarding world.

She left him and made sure to lock the door after she shut it. Albus was now in his chair, so were Professors Sprout and Flitwick. Minerva didn’t stop for a chat; she went straight to the Entrance Hall to wait for Hagrid to bring the first years and to supervise the older students who would be entering any moment. The doors were already opened. Minerva looked out the doors to see that the carriages were coming up the long winding path from Hogsmeade. They were pulled by what looked like winged horses that were so thin a person could see its skeleton through its black skin. Not everyone could see them, only those who had seen death. She had seen it far too many times during the war when Lord Voldemort had been around.

It wasn’t long before the students began to enter talking excitedly. Some stood in the Entrance Hall to talk, while others went straight into the Great Hall. She went along shooing the loiterers into the Great Hall. Some were shouting greetings to others as they made their way in. She could hear some talking about Harry as well.

“Think Potter is still living here?”

“Hopefully, he is a cutey.”

“I hope he hasn’t gone back to his aunt and uncles.”

The older students were talking about whom they thought the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be that year. A group of sixth year Ravenclaw’s was discussing their O.W.L. grades and what classes they would continue to study for. Minerva hoped there wouldn’t be any break downs that year. Every year it seemed a student suffered from a break down because of all the work they had to do for their Ordinary Wizarding Level Exams that students in the fifth year had to take. The tests would determine what careers they could take when the students left Hogwarts.

When the last of the students had entered the Great Hall, Minerva shut the door. About five minutes later, there was a pounding on the door. Minerva opened the door to reveal Hagrid and a large group of nervous new students waiting outside.

“Firs’ years Professor McGonagall.” Hagrid said.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” she said then addressed the new students. “Follow me.”

Hagrid walked past her and into the Great Hall. She took the students a different way to the Great Hall. She led them into a Chamber and wondered briefly how Harry was doing before shutting the door behind the group. She walked around them to the door that led into the Great Hall.

“Welcome to Hogwarts first years. We will be starting the Welcoming Feast momentarily, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you’ll be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony is very important because while you are here at Hogwarts, the house you stay in will be like your family. You will take classes with your houses and you will also sleep in your house dormitories.

There are four houses at Hogwarts. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has produced outstanding witches and wizards. I hope you will all do well to support whichever house you are sorted into. Any misbehaviour will lose you house points but and triumphs will earn you house points. At the end of the school year, the house with most points wins the House Cup. It is an honour too win the cup for your house.”

She paused to look at each student. It seemed every year the first years seemed to look shabby. Some had messy hair; some had Cloaks that were fastened wrong. This year wasn’t any different. One boy in particular had a dark stain on his robes.

“The Sorting Ceremony will begin in a moment. I suggest you straighten yourselves up while you wait.” she added.

She went back into the Great Hall to set up the stool and placed an old witch’s hat, the Sorting Hat on the stool. She retrieved the list of new students from Dumbledore. She glanced at the door behind the teacher’s table and wondered if Harry had gotten impatient yet. She quickly returned to the students who were all whispering together nervously.

“Line up,” she said, “And follow me.”

She led the line of first years into the Great Hall in front of the teacher’s table and behind the sorting hat so that they were facing the four house tables. She noticed some pointing out the ceiling to each other. The rest looked very nervous now; they had hundreds of eyes on them. She glanced at the sorting hat on the stool and waited for it to begin its song. A rip in the brim of the hat opened and it began its song about the four houses and Hogwarts history. It came up with a new song every year.

When it finished its song, it bowed to each table and fell silent. Minerva unrolled her scroll of Parchment and called out:

“Anderson, Sheila”

A tiny girl with her brown hair in pig tails ran up to the stool quickly. She sat on the stool and placed the hat on her head. It was quiet for a few moments before it yelled out:

“RAVENCLAW!” a table in the middle right began clapping card.

Looking relieved, she pulled off the hat and ran over to the Ravenclaw table. Minerva continued reading the names, feeling pride for each student sorted into Gryffindor House. She got to the end of the list then she took the hat and stool out to the Chamber where the first years had been. Afterwards, she sat down for Albus to make his quick speech about Harry.

“Welcome new students, welcome back to the old students. I have an announcement to make before we begin our feast. Now as most of you know, Harry Potter is staying at Hogwarts. The older students will remember that Harry does not know anything about his past as you all do. He is six years old and is too young for that information. He will be coming out to the teacher’s table in a moment and I will advise you not shout out to him. Do not try to get a better look at him. I ask you to let him eat in peace, and to also not stare if you see him in the corridors. We want him to live as much of a normal life as possible.” Albus said. “Now, that being said we can begin our feast. Tuck in.”

Minerva got up from her chair and went to the back chamber to get Harry. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see that he was playing quietly. However, when he saw the door open, he got up and ran over to her.

“Finally,” he said, “it took a long time.”

“Well now you can enjoy the feast,” she told him.

He went straight to his chair that was beside Snape’s chair. Minerva took her place and saw that the students were looking up and muttering, but it was mostly the younger students. She guessed the first years who knew Harry’s story was telling the muggle borns exactly why he was famous. She was pleased to see one of her fifth year Gryffindor prefects scolding a couple second year boys for pointing at him.

“You can see the stars tonight,” Harry said who was looking up at the ceiling.

Minerva began making Harry’s plate for him. Snape was pouring his juice for him. She set his plate in front of him and told him to eat. He began to eat a few bites before looking around the Great Hall. Most of the students were eating and talking. None were paying attention to the teacher’s table. Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice and looked down the teacher’s table.

“Mr. Snape?” he suddenly said grabbing Snape’s arm and pointing down the table at Quirrel. “Who is that? I’ve never seen him before, and oh, who is that beside Mr. Kettleburn?”

“They are new teachers,” he answered. “Now don’t point Harry. Have you tried your potatoes yet? They are very good.”

“But where did Mr. Lombon and Mrs. Dimen go?” Harry asked ignoring his food.

“Mr. Lombon was only here a year and Mrs. Dimen retired,” Snape answered, “You should try eating your potatoes.”

Minerva smiled; it was always Snape that Harry bothered with the questions at dinner. Snape was always advising Harry on different foods he could eat. Harry shrugged and began to eat his potatoes. Normally he liked to eat what Snape was eating. When he saw him reaching for a chicken leg, Harry also reached for one. Snape rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Are you teaching Potions tomorrow?” Harry asked Snape.

“Yes, I always teach Potions,” Snape answered.

“What years do you have tomorrow?” Harry continued. “When will you teach me how to make a Potion?”

“When you are eleven,” he answered. “I believe I have sixth year students first tomorrow. Which is good, I shouldn’t be teaching any dunderheads.”

Harry started to laugh. Minerva shook her head; she was going to have to talk to Snape about what he said or did in front of Harry. All she needed was for him to go around calling people dunderheads. Though he was already a polite boy, she did want to teach him more about manners. The Dursley’s likely hadn’t taught him any. She reasoned he was polite from the situations he had to grow up in.

“Harry, why don’t you let Mr. Snape eat his dinner. We should be having dessert soon,” Minerva cut in as Harry started to talk again.

“I want a treacle tart,” he said with a large smile on his face.

It seemed every year Severus had a new student who acted like a know-it-all. This year wasn’t any different. Usually it was one of his Ravenclaw students, but to his surprise it was a Hufflepuff first year boy. He was glad when a student could brew a potion properly of course. It always drove him crazy to deal with mediocre Potions. This student however answered every question he asked, and even dared to correct him. The boy had been wrong, which amused him a little.

After a few weeks of teaching Mr. Audrick, he had to wonder how the boy ended up in Hufflepuff House. The Hufflepuff’s were known for their loyalty and the boy didn’t have any friends at all. He worked alone most days in Potions and the rest of his house mates seemed to resent him. He was a tall gangly boy with long flaxen blond hair. He usually wore a smug look. He had checked into the boys blood status to see if he was a muggle-born trying to prove himself since he hadn’t heard of the last name Audrick. The boy was a half-blood he had muggle born parents.

Severus usually ignored the know-it-all’s as much as he could but Audrick wouldn’t let him. He always had his hand up, even when they were just making potions’.

“Come look at my potion now, sir. I believe it’s the right colour,” or “My potion is at the right thickness already.”

Sometimes he would point out another student’s potion and mention that his potion had progressed further then his fellow classmates. The Hufflepuff’s shared the class with Gryffindor’s, it was usually one of theirs that he compared his potion’s too. Severus couldn’t stand it when it was one of the students who couldn’t make a potion correctly. It made the other student and the potion even worse.

He learned quickly that he wasn’t the only one annoyed with Audrick. Professor Sprout had come back from a Herbology class in a bad mood, which was rare for her. She was normally in a good mood after classes, which Severus failed to understand.

“Oh that Audrick!” she yelled as she entered the teachers staff room.

She looked around to make sure Harry wasn’t around, then sat with Snape and ranted on about him. It seemed the students had been tending to singing flowers that you had to be gentle with or they wilted. Audrick had thought one of his classmates had been trimming the flowers’ leaves the wrong way, so he had stolen the snips from her to show her properly. An argument broke out and all the flowers around them had wilted.

“Glad you are his Head of House,” Severus said. “He’s lost a lot of points for your house lately.”

Professor Sprout grunted angrily, then got up to leave the room. Professor’s McGonagall, Flitwick, Werton and Sinistra also had complaints about him. He liked to show off in Transfiguration more then in Potion’s it seemed; he liked to argue with Flitwick about the correct way to wave a wand when levitating items; he enjoyed telling Mr. Werton the proper way to disarm an enemy and he had corrected Sinistra about the moon’s position. It seemed Professor Binns; the only ghost teacher didn’t have any complaints about him. Professor Binns also only lectured the class and most students slept through his class anyway. The rest of the teachers taught third year and older.

It was one incident that caused all the teachers to dislike him more, and to get himself a detention. It was Filches turn to watch Harry when Harry disappeared. They didn’t get too worried. Harry usually ended up back in his room on those occasions or in the Owlery. He knew better then to go outside or in the dungeons on his own. However, they didn’t find him in any of those places when they checked.

Professor Sprout found him with Audrick down near the kitchens. According to her, she had been relieved that Harry was all right when she saw him. She wasn’t even upset to see him down there (even though he wasn’t allowed since he had never been there) since he was with a student who could lead him back to where he belonged. Her relief changed to anger however when she heard that he had told Harry that he was famous.

Minerva let out an angry cry at that point but Professor Sprout continued on to let them know that Audrick hadn’t mentioned why he was famous.

“He was trying to find out why Harry was living at Hogwarts,” Sprout said dully. “He was asking him exactly why he was at Hogwarts and what he was learning. He let slip that Harry is famous. And well you know Harry. He started to ask why he was famous when I found them.

“Audrick says he wasn’t going to tell him why. He said it’s a big topic among the students. They all want to know why Harry is here. They all know about the abuse because it was in the Daily Prophet but there are some who don’t believe it,” Professor Sprout continued. “I think he just wanted bragging rights over the others that’s all. He likes to hold his knowledge over their heads after all.”

“He really isn’t that clever,” Sinistra said darkly staring at the floor in the teacher’s lounge. “He just likes to act he is. I think he is trying to impress his fellow classmates.”

“Well he isn’t a bad student either. He is already in the top ten percentile. His top two classes are Transfiguration and Potions,” Sprout said, “Though I think you are right. I think he wants friends. He doesn’t understand he is going at it the wrong way.”

Severus didn’t say anything as the teachers continued the discussion. Harry was now going to be asking them daily why he was famous. At age six, he was too young to understand that his parents had been murdered by an evil wizard, they had agreed to that already. What if he asked one of the other students and they told him. Audrick had been forbidden to talk to Harry until further notice.

Harry sat at the table eating his supper and stared around the Great Hall. The older kids were very loud, some he saw were moving from their house tables to talk to others. He looked at the Hufflepuff table and spotted the tall student who had told him he was famous eating by himself. No one would tell him why. Mr. Snape had even said that Harry likely didn’t know what being famous was.

He knew what it was. In the muggle world it was the people who were on television. His Aunt used to talk about them all the time. Once he had spilled a cup of juice on a magazine with a pretty famous woman on it. He had been punished for that. He knew there were also people in the wizarding world who were famous too. His teacher was teaching him all he knew about witches and wizards. Mr. Dumbledore was famous. It was people who were well known for doing good things, but bad things as well.

Mr. Dumbledore had told him a wizard named Lord Voldemort who was bad had done bad things. No one told him much about him though. According to Mrs. McGonagall he was supposed to call him you-know-who and that he would learn about him when he was older. They had told him the same thing when he asked why he was famous. Everything he wanted to do or know, he had to wait until he was older. He felt so frustrated with everyone.

He also couldn’t understand why his Aunt and Uncle had hurt him. His Aunt liked famous people. Had she known he was famous? He was always told he wasn’t bad and what had happened at his Aunt and Uncle’s place wasn’t his fault. Were they lying to him? Was he famous for doing bad things and that was why his Aunt and Uncle hurt him? Then why was everyone at Hogwarts nice then? They had held a party for him not long ago because he had lived at Hogwarts for a year. It had just been the teacher’s in their lounge room.

He really wanted to talk to the boy again, but Mrs. McGonagall had told him he wasn’t allowed to talk to him again. Harry glared at Mrs. McGonagall now and then stared at his plate. When would he be old enough to learn everything he wanted to know?

Winter came in that year with a large ice storm. All the teachers had to work hard to make sure the castle was warm enough for the students. There were questions about whether or not the students should continue Potion’s in the dungeons when it was so cold, but Severus wanted to use his classroom where all the supplies were.

The students could be seen holding onto each other as they made their way across the very slippery grounds. The upcoming Quidditch match, Slytherin against Hufflepuff still took place. It was too cold out for Harry to watch so Minerva took the task of staying indoors with him while the rest of the school went to watch the match. This did not go over well with Harry.

Quidditch was a sport played on broom stick. There were seven players on each team. A Keeper, they guarded three hoop posts. Three Chasers who tried to throw a ball called the Quaffle into one of the hoops, earning their team ten points. Two Beaters who used bats to hit a ball called the Bludger at opposing team members so they couldn’t score, and a Seeker. The Seeker had to try and catch a tiny golden winged ball. This would end the game and earn the team one hundred and fifty points.

Harry had enjoyed the game after watching his first match the year before. He wanted to learn to play some day as well. Minerva was planning on buying him a toy Snitch for Christmas that year. She thought he looked like he could be a future seeker some day. She figured she could give him some practice. The toy snitch didn’t fly as fast or far as a real Snitch, but it did hover and escape when a person tried to catch it.

Minerva listened to the howling wind and was glad she wasn’t outside watching; it wasn’t her Gryffindor’s playing after all. She wouldn’t miss a match with her team in it. Pomona and Severus had been at each other necks all week as the game approached. There had even been some accidents between Hufflepuff and Slytherin students. Audrick had been a victim of a Slytherin first year putting a leg locker curse on him. Minerva had to wonder if it had anything to do with Quidditch though. Audrick had been keeping to himself since the incident with Harry, but he was still a know-it-all, just not as annoying.

“Oh I wish I were outside,” Harry sighed from the floor where he was drawing a picture.

“No, you don’t,” Minerva said, “It’s too cold out. I won’t be surprised if everyone gets sick. I’d rather be here in the warm with you.”

“But I like Quidditch!” Harry said looking up at her with an annoyed expression on his face. “I want to play on a team someday.”

“And maybe you will some day,” Minerva said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t storm for the next Quidditch match. Severus also said he would take you to Hogsmeade tomorrow. I know you like going there.”

Harry brightened at that idea. Hogsmeade was the village not too far from Hogwarts. The students who were third year and older went there on certain weekends. It was the only non-Muggle settlement in Britain. Usually they took Harry over to Hogsmeade with them if one of them went. Severus had some to pick up in Hogsmeade and he had planned to take Harry with him.

“When will you tell me why I am famous?” Harry suddenly asked.

“When you are a little older, Harry. Mr. Dumbledore will tell you what you need to know,” she answered.

“When I am eleven?” he asked still drawing on his piece of parchment.

“No, you’ll know before you’re eleven,” she said looking down at his picture.

He was drawing a picture of stick people on brooms. As she took a closer look, she saw that one of them wore glasses and had a lightning bolt scar on his head. Another one had a long triangle beard. She smirked at the idea of Dumbledore playing Quidditch. She saw one that wore glasses; a triangle dress, and what looked like a tiny circle attached to the back of her head. She was guessing it was she. He was drawing the teachers playing Quidditch with him. She decided she would frame it for him and hang it up on his wall. It would be something for him to look back on when he was older.