The small boy stared at his aunt terrified hoping he had made breakfast right. Each morning she found something wrong with his cooking and he had to suffer the consequences of it. He rubbed the back of his head where she had hit him the day before for accidentally burning the bacon. He stood on the stool in front of the stove and watched as she approached. He could feel his cousin’s eyes on him, and he knew he was hoping Harry had done it wrong once again.

Harry James Potter was considered very small for a five-year-old boy. In fact, he was the smallest in his class and because he was forced to wear his Cousin Dudley’s hand-me-down clothes, Harry appeared even smaller. You see, Dudley Dursley was a very chubby boy who had a tendency to outgrow his clothes. Because Petunia Dursley, Harry’s aunt and guardian, didn’t want to buy him clothes that actually fit, Harry was usually made to wear them. He didn’t really mind wearing hand-me-downs so much, what he did mind though, was the fact that Dudley was almost twice his height and almost thrice his weight; this caused Dudley’s clothes to practically drown him in fabric. He was always tripping over the pant legs of his cousin’s jeans; they were just too large on his tiny frame.

His Uncle, Vernon Dursley, would laugh, all the while calling him a “clumsy fool who can’t even walk properly.”

Harry knew that his aunt and uncle hated him; they had for as long as he could remember. They didn’t want him in their home and they had no problem showing him, in more ways than one, that he was utterly worthless and undeserving of love. His parents had been worthless too, or so he was told. According to his uncle both his parents had died in a car crash when he was a baby, an incident they enjoyed reminding him of often. This was the event that left him with a scar on his forehead and stuck with the Dursleys.

“Now we have to put up with your parents mistakes,” Uncle Vernon had once told him after a beating, “If your father hadn’t been so reckless we wouldn’t have ended up with you! No doubt you are going to grow up just as abnormal as your parents.”

That morning, Harry hoped he wouldn’t have to have a beating. It was Halloween morning; his aunt and uncle had told him that if he was a good boy, he could go to a couple houses as well. He would be wearing Dudley’s ghost costume from the year before. He was to stay at a neighbour’s house, Mrs. Figg while his aunt and uncle took Dudley around the neighbourhood afterward. Although Harry did not like going to Mrs. Figgs; he wouldn't mind being there eating candy while waiting for their return.

He watched his aunt as she inspected the bacon. Harry didn’t like to use the stove since he always worried that he would burn himself; especially when he was making the bacon. It was the only time he was thankful for wearing such baggy clothes, the bacon grease always splattered on the large sleeves of his sweaters.

His uncle had been against Harry using the stove at first. He remembered the conversation that taken place the day after his fifth birthday. He had sat down at the table when his aunt told him to get back up, and come with her to the stove. He wondered if he was going to be punished; would he have to touch the hot stove?

He tensed up when she grabbed his arm as he made his slow approach over to her. She paid no attention. She had a stool in front of the stove which she lifted him up to stand on. His heart sank. She was going to make him touch the stove. He felt tears well up in his eyes; what had he done this time? Although there were times when he didn’t do anything; his aunt and uncle punished him anyway. He knew he deserved it, even if he had been a good boy.

“You are a big boy now Harry,” his aunt began (Harry wondered why she called him by his name; it was rare she ever did. Normally they called him boy)

“We have let you stay here. We have fed you and put clothes on your back. It is time that you earned your keep. Now that you are five, you are old enough to help make breakfast.”

“What?” Uncle Vernon asked lowering the paper he had been reading. “Petunia dear, don’t you think you should wait another couple years. He is going to burn everything.”

“Then he’ll get a thrashing won’t he?” Aunt Petunia asked glaring at Harry who flinched. “He is old enough now to learn.”

He saw his uncle glare at him with dislike before looking back at his aunt. “He is awfully young still . . . I agree he should be earning his keep now, but I don’t know about cooking. He isn’t a bright boy to begin with.”

Harry really hoped that his uncle would win the argument; he didn’t want to use the hot stove. However, his aunt won the argument; every day afterward he had to make breakfast. He was told that when he was older he would also make them lunch and help out with supper. Harry was shaken out of his thoughts as he watched his aunt stare into the pan of bacon.

“Well it looks as though you have finally gotten this right,” she said.

It was everything he could hope for; he had done it right, which meant he wouldn't get a beating. Sure she had said it in a mean tone, but he was used to that. He couldn’t remember if she had ever talked to him in the soft way she did with Dudley.

“And the eggs are fine. It would have been better if it hadn’t taken you three months to learn how to make breakfast though. You may have two pieces of toast today,” she contined.

“Thank you Aunt Petunia,” he said ecstatically.

He hopped off the stool and hurried to his place at the table. He was normally allowed only one piece of toast or none at all. He wondered if this meant his aunt and uncle would like him now. Maybe he wouldn’t get a beating ever again. He took the two pieces of toast that his aunt handed him, and thanked her. He saw that Dudley looked disappointed; he knew Dudley had been looking forward to Harry getting beaten. Harry wasn’t sure why his cousin had never liked him; he had never known Harry's parents.

“Four years to the day isn’t it Petunia?” his uncle asked as his aunt started putting the food on everyone’s plate.

He felt even happier when she put a tiny piece of bacon on his plate too. He realized that he could be good after all; his aunt would never have given him bacon if he couldn't. It had been a long time since he had last had bacon.

“Yes it is,” his Aunt answered stiffly as she sat down. “Well,” she said in an after thought, “tonight it will be. They died Halloween night.”

Harry knew instantly what his aunt and uncle were talking about; his happiness melted, just as the butter did on his toast. They were talking about the night his parents had died. He didn’t even really understand what 'died' meant; he did know his parents were gone and never coming back. His aunt had told him that when he had dared to ask her what it meant. He had hoped if he knew, he could be with them.

“It means they are gone and no one will see them again, which is very fortunate. We are stuck with you until you are eighteen!” she had yelled. “And how many times have I told you not to ask questions!? Especially about them!”

“When I am eighteen, will I see them?” he asked.

“NO! Don’t you get it stupid boy? They are gone and never coming back!”

She had given him a spanking afterward, forced him to do his chores, and he hadn't been allowed meals for a week. He was careful about not mentioning his parents or 'died' again. His meals were pitiful, but he knew he needed his strength to do his chores. If he didn't do his chores properly he would be beaten. He remembered a time when he'd had a week of starvation; he had collapsed and couldn't make breakfast. His uncle had given a thorough spanking for it.

“Then there was that dreadful November second . . .” his uncle sighed scowling at Harry who looked away. “They didn’t seem to care whether or not we could take on another child.”

“Exactly! I’d always wanted a daughter.”

Harry flinched as they both glared at him. He would have to try harder to be a good boy. They would no longer regret that they had him instead of daughter if he could learn to behave.

“I want a sister!” Dudley suddenly shouted. “Make him leave mummy. I need a sister. All my friends have brothers and sisters. None of them have bad cousins!”

“I know sweetums.” Aunt Petunia said in a soft soothing voice. “You could have had a younger sister. Maybe some day.”

“Now!” Dudley yelled.

Harry saw Dudley’s face going red and sensed a temper tantrum starting. Forgetting that he needed to stay to help his aunt clean up, he got up and ran from the kitchen. He went straight to his cupboard to hide. Dudley usually took his tantrums out on Harry. His aunt and uncle didn’t seem to care he was gone. He could hear them consoling Dudley who was wailing now.

Harry stared at the ground tearfully, wincing as he walked slowly behind the Dursley's. His aunt and uncle had been very angry with him for leaving the table. His uncle had pulled him out of the cupboard and given him a spanking; after his spanking, he was forced to do his chores. No one had said anything about trick or treating so he hoped he still could go. Just before they started getting Dudley ready, his aunt had informed that he had blown it once again.

They were leading him to Mrs. Figg's. She always made him look at pictures of her cats and he really didn’t want to that night. He didn’t even want to sit down. His bottom and the back of his legs still stung from his beating. He ignored Dudley who was talking about all the treats that he was going to have.

“Know what the big kids do?” he asked as they walked down Mrs. Figg's driveway, “They go out two times with two costumes daddy! Why can’t I have two?”

“When you are a little older Diddy,” Aunt Petunia said as she rang Mrs. Figg's doorbell.

“But mummy, why can’t I now?” Dudley asked. “I want lots of treats!”

“Well hello, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.” Mrs. Figg greeted.

One of her cats shot out of the house quickly. Harry watched it go. It was a tabby cat, when it reached the end of the driveway; it turned to stare back at the house. Harry and the cat stared at each other for a few moments before Harry felt someone taking his hand and leading him inside. His aunt and uncle didn’t say anything to him; they just turned and went back down the driveway.

“How are you Harry dear?” Mrs. Figg asked as she led him to her living room, “I see you have glasses now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry said scrunching up his nose. Her house always smelled like cabbage.

He had only started wearing glasses recently. His skin still bore the bruises from the beating he had received from his uncle. His uncle had been angry when they learned Harry needed glasses. Harry was insecure about his appearance; his black hair was too messy and his green eyes offended his aunt. He only liked the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

When he sat down on the couch, tears sprang to his eyes. His bottom was still very tender. Harry tried not to think about it. He blocked the thought of the morning from his mind. He didn't realize that it would be a beating that would haunt him as he grew older.

“You got a new cat,” he said thinking of the tabby he had seen.

“Oh she’s not mine,” Mrs. Figg answered handing him a cookie. “She comes to visit me sometimes.”

Harry took a bite from the cookie, it was very stale but it was chocolate chip. He liked chocolate chip cookies, it wasn’t often he had treats at home. He knew it was the only treat he would get that night so he didn't complain.

“Cats’ visit?” he asked.

“Yes sometimes if they are hungry. So I will feed them. But you know, I would like to get a kitten. You’ve never had a pet have you?”

Harry shook his head, “Pets are messy. Aunt Petunia doesn’t want any. Dudley does. Uncle Vernon said maybe when he is older. But not a cat or dog. Maybe a fish.”

“What happened to your eye?” she asked.

“Oh . . . nothing,” Harry said looking away.

His uncle had given him a black eye when he had accidentally broken his egg yolk. It had been Dudley’s fault who had snuck up behind Harry and scared him. Harry hadn’t told mentioned it though, he was never allowed to blame Dudley. Mrs. Figg stared at him for a moment before turning away. He glanced at the television which had a black and white movie on. Harry stared at it not understanding what was going on in the movie, but thrilled to be watching at all. He was rarely allowed to watch cartoons at home.

Mrs. Figg returned with a large album; Harry knew what it was. It was the same album she made him look through every time he came over. He wondered if she had forgotten that he had seen all the pictures of her cats several times before. She saw him looking at the television and turned it off. Then she opened the album and began explaining as she always did about each cat.

When the doorbell rang an hour later, Harry was grateful. He was never happy to see his family but he didn't want to see anymore pictures of cats. He also had to go to the bathroom, but felt too embarrassed to tell Mrs. Figg. She looked up surprised as if she had forgotten that his aunt and uncle were coming back. Muttering, she got up and headed for the front door. Harry lifted the heavy album off of his lap and stood up.

Mrs. Figg returned with his uncle trailing her. He looked as if he were in a bad mood. He pointed at Harry and beckoned for him to come. Harry didn’t need telling twice. He walked quickly to his uncle who grabbed his arm roughly; he pulled him hard throughout the house and out the door.

“You really are ungrateful, aren’t you?” Uncle Vernon snarled as they walked up the driveway. “Dudders is sick because of you! What did you do to the bacon? Or was it the eggs? I thought he seemed a little off all day. He missed out on most of his night because he got sick.”

No one was around except the tabby cat from Mrs. Figg's place. Uncle Vernon stopped walking and released his nephews arm. Harry was still watching the cat who stared back. Harry suddenly felt blinding pain across his face and nearly fell to the ground from the force of the slap. He began to wail loudly.

He heard growling and thought it was his uncle, but through his tears he saw it was the cat. The cat was walking toward them spitting, and growling.

“What the-?” Uncle Vernon began but the cat leapt at him.

Harry stared in amazement as the cat started attacking his Uncle. He tried to fight it off, but it seemed to make the cat angrier. It clung to arm and sunk its teeth and claws in his hand. He yelled out in pain. Harry wasn’t sure what to do though he was no longer crying. He was almost glad; he wondered if that meant he was being a bad boy again. The cat didn’t seem to want to stop attacking his uncle who was screaming loudly. Harry held back a giggle; he couldn't help it. His uncle finally managed to throw it off, then he grabbed Harry and lifted him up.

He held Harry out in front of him like a shield, daring the cat to attack again. But the cat didn’t; it backed up, still growling. He had never seen his uncle run before. It wasn’t until they reached the house that he stopped running and set Harry down. Harry felt amused by it all until his Uncle glared down at him.

“You told that cat to do that didn’t you?” Uncle Vernon said angrily.

Harry shook his head frantically. How could he have? People couldn’t talk to cats! He hadn't even said a word to the cat, so how could his uncle suspect him?

“Well guess what, you can sleep on the porch for that one! I don’t know what has gotten into you today! Making Dudders sick, leaving the table without permission and now you are setting cats on me. Well you’ll see what happens when you act ungrateful!”

And with those words, Uncle Vernon turned and stomped into the house. He slammed the door behind him. Harry sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. It was a cold night and now he had to sleep out here? He walked up to the porch slowly; he had never had to sleep outside before. His aunt had always gotten angry if his uncle suggested it. She didn’t want the neighbours to see him outside sleeping on the porch. The door suddenly opened again, Harry wondered if his uncle had changed his mind.

“You don’t deserve this, but all we need is for you to get sick,” his Uncle threw a blanket at Harry then slammed the door again.

Harry wrapped the blanket around him and laid down on the porch step. Tears were running down his cheeks as he stared out at the road. His wishes of having his own room with a warm bed were squashed at that moment. He knew it would never happen now. The tabby cat was sitting by the road in front of the house. It stared at him, and then crossed the front yard toward him. Harry felt scared; would the cat attack him too? It stopped in front of him and then began to sniff him. Harry stuck a hand out of the blanket.

He had never been fond of cats because of Mrs. Figg, but he liked this one. It had attacked his uncle for hitting him.

“Good kitty,” Harry murmured and petted it.

The cat started to purr, and then it climbed on top of him and lay down. Harry closed his eyes. The cat was helping him feel warm. He hoped it would stay around. He needed a friend. He just had to make sure his uncle didn’t see it. He hoped it would be gone in the morning before anyone could see it. With thoughts of having a new friend, Harry dozed off.

When Harry was sound asleep; the cat jumped off of him. It stared at him for a moment, and then suddenly it started to change. Where the cat had been stood, there was an elderly woman looking down at the small boy, who shivered in his sleep.

“Those damn muggles,” she said angrily, tears were in her eyes. “Don’t worry Harry. You won’t ever see those people again. I don’t care what Albus’s reasons are. If Lily and James saw the way they treated you . . . ”

Hoping she wouldn’t wake him, she bent down and lifted him into her arms. The child muttered a little in his sleep but didn’t wake. He looked like a very small version of James Potter. Except he was covered in bruises, the poor dear even had a black eye. She cuddled him closer, then glared at the house. When Abarella Figg had reported it looked as if Harry had been abused, Minerva had been angry.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had then decided to send out people to number four Privet Drive to check. Minerva had rarely seen Harry outside and neither had anyone else who had come. She also mostly came at night as she was a teacher at Hogwarts. Sighing Minerva turned on the spot and disappeared with little Harry with a loud crack.

“I have fixed most of his cuts. He had a black eye and I got rid of that. It looks as though they beat him a lot. The poor little ones’ bottom was beaten raw. I think they starved him as well, he is too thin; I could see his rib bones. He's also weighs,” at this point the matron paused and tears slid down her cheeks, "twenty-two pounds."

A group of teachers stood gathered around little Harry Potter while he slept very early the next morning. He was in a bed in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Matron, Madame Pomfrey had looked Harry over shortly after Minerva McGonagall had dropped him off. She had seen students come in who had obviously been beaten by their parents; she had never taken care of a five-year-old who had been. Of all the injuries she had to fix at Hogwarts, magical or not, none had affected her the way Harry’s injuries had.

“This man has to be a monster to beat a little boy,” a tiny man who was a wizard by the name of Filius Flitwick, “especially this boy. Don’t they realize how important he is?” He continued in his squeaky voice.

“I think Petunia Dursley helped out a lot too,” Minerva said scowling, “I was looking through their window one morning; I watched her push Harry off a stool. It looked as though she was trying to teach him to cook.”

“At his age!?” Pomona Sprout snapped, “A five-year-old shouldn’t be any where near the stove.”

“It doesn’t surprise me,” Severus Snape said who was looking down at the small boy with obvious dislike. “Petunia Evans wasn’t a fan of magic.”

“How do you know that?” Minerva asked him.

Albus saved him from answering.

“I’ll have to pay them a visit,” he said with a sigh. “When I dropped Harry off, I knew they weren’t going to accept him. However, I didn’t think they would treat him this way. We’ll have to have a long talk before I allow Harry to return.”

“Return?” Minerva snapped, “He is not going back to those people. I won’t permit it Albus. You didn’t see that man slap Harry! He forced him to sleep outside on a very cold night. Harry could have gotten very sick . . . even died, at his age.”

She hoped no one would contradict her with the fact they had done the same four-years ago. The night they had dropped him off hadn’t been as cold. The blanket Harry had been wrapped in would keep him warm. They hadn’t brutally beaten him, though they did leave him to live a life of torment and cruelty. She pushed the thoughts out of her head. Yes, they had left him to sleep on the porch, but they hadn't done it to be cruel.

“It is the safest place for him,” Albus said, “I can, however, prevent the abuse-”

“Safest place for him?” Minerva snapped, “Those muggles will end up killing him. How can you say it’s safe for him?”

Harry stirred in his sleep. They all looked at him apprehensively. Then Albus beckoned for Minerva and Madame Pomfrey to follow him. Pomona and Filius turned to leave the hospital wing to go to the Great Hall for breakfast. The students would be waking soon. When Severus started to follow, Albus however put a hand up to stop him.

“Will you stay with him for a couple moments? This should not take long. Young Harry might be frightened if he wakes up,” Albus said; Severus scowled at Harry. “Severus, this is not James. This is an innocent five-year-old boy. He is Lily’s son. Do remember that.”

Severus glared at Albus but he didn’t say a word. He sat down in a chair beside the bed. He looked around at the other beds. He thought about how lucky it was that there weren't any students present. If someone noticed Harry Potter was at Hogwarts, it would surely get around the school quickly. All he needed was a class full of distracted students while they made their potions. He stared at the little boy who was moving around more now.

It was hard for him to believe that the tiny, scrawny boy in front of him had defeated the most powerful wizard of all time. The small boy didn’t even realize how famous he was, but surely he would take fame the same way his father did. He knew this boy would be arrogant about being famous. When he was old enough for Hogwarts, he would have a group of admirers. And yet, even while thinking this, he couldn’t help but feel pity for the boy. He felt angry with the muggles as well for beating Harry.

Severus knew all about what being abused was about. His own father had beaten him and his mother because he hadn’t liked magic. He also knew what Petunia Dursley’s attitude had been toward Lily for being magical. She had called Lily a freak on a number of occasions, and him as well. She had likely called Harry a freak as well. He had never liked Petunia.

When he had first seen the two girls when he was a few years older then Harry, he had thought she was snobby. He had been about eight when he noticed the beautiful red-haired girl doing magic. He hadn’t known any other magical children lived around them at that point. He spied on them for a year before he finally talked to them.

Severus shook his head trying not to think about the memories. He looked down at Harry again and saw that he had opened his eyes. He stared at Severus before looking around the room, then he rubbed his eyes and looked around again. He looked back at Severus with confusion. He looked down at the gown he was wearing and started to feel it. Severus didn’t know what to say or do. The boy was a miniature of James, but with Lily’s green eyes. He spotted Harry’s glasses on the table. He picked them up and handed them to him.

“Thank you, sir,” the boy muttered and put on his glasses, it made him look even more like James. “Excuse me sir, but am I in a hospital?”

Severus was surprised to see that the boy was polite, but his aunt and uncle had probably beaten him if he hadn’t been polite.

“Yes you are,” Severus said softly trying not to show hatred for the boy. He had to keep reminding himself that this was not James. He remembered the Headmasters words. He was just an innocent little boy.

“Are you a doctor, sir?” the boy continued; he sat up.

“I am a teacher,” he answered.

The boy looked at him with confusion again and then looked around the room again. Then he held out his arms and looked down at them. He touched the back of his head slowly, then moved around on his bed. He glanced back at Severus again with a very shocked look on his face now. Severus had to hold in his laughter at the look on his face; he felt pity for him as well. The boy was obviously wondering why he wasn’t in pain anymore. Severus himself had seen the beaten bottom and legs. He had come to give Madam Pomfrey a potion and had seen Harry's swollen and bruised skin.

“Did my aunt and uncle bring me here?” he asked. “Was I sick?”

“No, but they are,” Severus said without thinking.

“Oh, so they brought me here? It’s from the bacon, isn’t it?” he said and looked worried. “I made them sick too right?”

“What are you rambling about?” Severus asked scowling at him, automatically Harry flinched as if thinking Severus would hurt him.

“Sorry sir,” he muttered.

Severus noticed that the boy’s glasses were broken in the middle. They were held together by tape. Severus figured they had been broken during a beating. Feeling guilty for startling the boy, Severus decided to do something nice for him. He looked into his green eyes and thought of Lily.

“Would you like me to fix your glasses for you?” he asked.

Harry nodded and took off his glasses and handed him, “Thank you sir. They broke but my uncle put tape on them.”

Severus took the tape off of them before pulling out his wand and tapped the middle with his wand. Instantly they were repaired. The boy’s mouth dropped open in amazement. Severus smirked as he handed them back. He glanced at the hospital wing door wishing the others would come back. He didn’t know what to do with a five-year-old.

“How did you do that, sir?” Harry asked putting them back on. “Is that a magic wand?”

“Yes it is,” Severus said; he decided that if Albus didn’t want him to know about magic, he could modify the boy's memory later.

“I thought that wasn’t real,” Harry said. “My aunt and uncle said so. They said it was only cartoons and books that have magic, and I should never talk about it.”

“Only certain people can have magic wands,” Severus answered. “So you are five now, are you?”

He wanted to change the subject fast. He didn’t want to be the one to explain to the boy that he was a wizard. He also didn’t want to go into detail about the boys past and what happened to his parents.

“Yes sir. Dudley is five too,” Harry said.

“Do you remember your parents at all?” Severus asked, though he was sure Harry didn’t. He couldn’t help but feel curious.

“No. They were in a car accident,” Harry answered, then put a hand to his forehead. “I got this scar from it. I don’t remember, only, only sometimes there is a green light.”

“A green light?” Severus asked sitting forward now curiously.

He knew what the green light meant but he didn’t know how the boy could remember that. It certainly wasn’t from a car accident. A green light was from the worst curse someone could use on someone. It was a curse that had been used on Lily, which had taken her away from him forever. The curse had been used on the boy as well, except Harry Potter was the only person to ever survive it. Not even arrogant famous James could survive it.

“Yes sir. Sometimes when I try to remember them. That’s from the car accident right? And the laughter too. But maybe it was something else,” Harry answered.

“It might have been something else,” Severus said wondering if the boy’s aunt and uncle had ever planned to tell him the truth about how his parents had really died.

“You did magic sir,” Harry said after a moment of silence. “I know it was and you know what? Sometimes me too. But I don’t know how I do it. I don’t have a magic wand.”

“You do it when you are angry or scared?” Severus asked.

Harry nodded with a little smile on his face, but as if remembering something his face darkened and he looked away. Severus stared at him figuring that magic was probably something Harry got punished for. Severus started to wonder if there was a way to get the boy to admit his aunt and uncle beat him when Minerva, Albus and McGonagall returned.

“Well, we’ll get down to breakfast. Then tonight we’ll decide what to do. We won’t tell anyone he is here yet. It will cause excitement. Harry can stay here for today. He no doubt needs rest,” Albus was saying.

“Yes, I can look after him,” Madam Pomfrey said. “We’ll be fine.”

“Ah, Harry you are awake,” Albus said as they stopped by the bed.

Severus watched Harry’s expression as he took in Albus Dumbledore’s eccentric appearance. To Harry, he probably looked exactly like a wizard he had seen in cartoons. He was wearing purple star-spangled robes. He had a long white beard and long white hair. Harry stared, then as if realizing he was being impolite he nodded and asked:

“How do you know my name sir?”

“I knew you when you were a baby,” Albus explained. “I am Albus Dumbledore.”

“Are you a wizard too sir?” Harry asked.

Severus was surprised how smart the child was. He didn’t think the child would figure out what they were on his own.

“I am,” Albus said before looking at Severus. “You told him?”

“No. I fixed his glasses for him and he guessed. Excuse me Headmaster, but I must get to breakfast. Then I have a class to teach.”

Severus turned quickly before they could ask him more questions. He heard Harry tell them about how he had fixed his glasses with a magic wand. Severus shook his head. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to be left alone with him again. He hoped they would find another home for the boy; he was sure there were plenty of wizards who would take him in. He didn’t want to see the boy again until he was eleven years old and a student at Hogwarts.

It didn’t take long for people to find out that Harry Potter was at Hogwarts. It had been decided that Hogwarts was one of the safest places for him other than his aunt and uncles. Minerva didn’t think it was a good idea to raise him at Hogwarts; she believed it was better to let someone else take care of him. Remus Lupin had been a good friend of Lily and James Potter; she wondered why he couldn’t take him in.

Albus had explained to her that there was a chance that the wizard who had killed Harry’s parents could come back, and Harry would be in danger.

“Harry was safe at the Dursley’s because Petunia Dursley has Lily Potters blood in her. As you know Minerva, Lily died for Harry. When she did that, she put protection around Harry so when Voldemort-” Minerva had flinched at that point; most witches and wizards called him you-know-who because they were scared to speak his name, “tried to kill Harry the curse rebounded on him. As long as Harry could call his aunt’s home his home he was safe until he comes to age at seventeen. Lord Voldemort would not be able to get to Harry while he was at his aunt and uncles.”

“That’s fine if they hadn’t abused him. I don’t think he would survive if he stayed there. You didn’t see how hard that man hit Harry. And I think, even if Harry had survived the physical abuse, he wouldn’t be emotionally right.”

So Harry was to stay at Hogwarts instead. If Lord Voldemort were to ever rise again, he wouldn’t be able to touch Harry while he was at Hogwarts. Minerva still believed he shoudn't stay though. He was five-years-old. She knew a boy that age needed to be watched. Hogwarts was a very large castle. He could easily get lost. Not only that, but it would distract the students who would want to meet him. Harry would also have to put up with students trying to look at him. What if the older students were a bad influence on him? She had a number of reasons for why he shouldn’t stay.

“There will always be someone around who can watch him,” Dumbledore had answered. “He will not be left alone until he is older. I will talk to the students about him as well.”

And he had, they let Harry sit at the teacher’s table after it was decided Harry would stay. Dumbledore had talked to Harry and explained that he was magical but he wasn’t old enough to do magic. Minerva was glad that Albus had been the one to tell him. She had never had to tell a child as young as Harry about being magical. Surprisingly he had understood well. He didn’t get upset when he learned that he couldn’t use a wand until he was eleven-years-old. Albus had decided to wait until Harry was older before telling him that his parents weren’t actually killed in a car accident, but murdered. He would also learn that he had come close to being murdered as well.

When Harry wasn’t at breakfast one morning, a couple days after people realized who the small boy was; Albus decided to explain to the students that yes Harry Potter was there. He didn’t give the reason for why Harry was living there.

“You all must remember that he is only five-years-old. He doesn’t know what happened to his parents. He does not know he is famous and it’s best no one tells him. When he is old enough, I will tell him. Furthermore, Harry is still very nervous about being here. Please do not try to get a better look at him if you see him. I also ask that you don’t point at him or do anything else that could startle him. You can talk to him but just remember he is a little boy. Treat him as you would treat any other child.”

The students were all discussing Harry and why he was living at Hogwarts. Some seemed to guess right, that if Voldemort came back, he was safe at Hogwarts. Others said it was because he was a very powerful wizard and so he was starting his magical education early.

Minerva really hoped they would leave him alone. It was true that he was nervous. She had looked after him a few times and he had been well-behaved. He was also scared that she was going to hit him at times. He had at first questioned about going back to his aunt and uncles. He seemed worried about them. Albus wanted to go into his memories after he was comfortable with them to see exactly what his life had been like. Minerva didn’t need his memories to tell her what had happened while he lived with them; she had witnessed the abuse herself.

Harry was always scared that one of them was going to hit him. Snape had told her that Harry had thought he was going to hurt him once while he had watched him. He’d had Harry with him in his office; Harry had reached for a potion bottle to look at it. Snape had yelled at him and Harry had stood very stiffly with a look of terror on his face.

“I hope you weren’t being mean to him,” she said. “I know how you felt about his father after all.”

“I’ve been with him enough to know he isn’t arrogant like James . . . yet anyway. I am treating him as if he is another student, a very young one,” Snape said scowling at her. “You can ask him if you want. For some reason the boy likes it when it’s my turn to watch him, I don’t know why he likes me so much. He doesn’t shut up actually.”

“Really?” Minerva asked. “I can’t get him to talk”

“Well that should be your proof I am not being mean to him. Maybe I should though. He tried sitting on me already.”

Harry had been at Hogwarts for a month and seemed adjusted when Albus decided it was time to look into his memories. Harry seemed happier than he had been when he first arrived and wasn’t as shy. He seemed to realize that none of them were going to hurt him. He had been scared of the ghosts at first but after a while he got used to them as well. He was more talkative and told anyone who would listen that he liked living in a castle.

To Severus Snape’s dismay he had taken to him more then anyone, except perhaps Albus. Harry could be seen following the Potion’s Master around chattering; Severus glared at anyone who laughed at him for it. No one else could figure out why Harry seemed to like Severus so much. The only people Harry didn’t like were Filch the caretaker or Sybil Trelawny. He had laughed when Peeves the Poltergeist had attacked Filch with a mop. He told Minerva that Professor Trelawny was spooky and her classroom smelled funny.

Albus’s office was Harry’s favourite out of all the places in Hogwarts so that’s where he decided to look into Harry’s memories. Albus had a number of strange objects in his office that fascinated Harry. But Harry also liked Fawkes the Phoenix. Albus decided on using Veritaserum potion first before he would look at Harry’s memories. Though he didn’t want to be there, Severus would be present for it since he provided the Potion along with Minerva McGonagall. Rubeus Hagrid wanted to be there as well but he made Harry uncomfortable.

Hagrid was twice the size of a normal man. The first time Harry had seen him. He had started to cry. Hagrid hadn’t taken that too well, but Minerva explained that in time Harry would understand that he was harmless. His appearance however was scary to a small boy, especially one with Harry’s history.

“Harry, what kind of drink would you like?” Albus asked kindly while Snape snorted.

They all knew he liked Pumpkin juice the best but Albus felt it was best to ask him anyway.

“Pumpkin juice please sir,” Harry said. “It is so good.”

He was sitting in one of the chairs in front of Albus’s desk. He had chosen the seat beside Severus who had sighed. Minerva stood rather then sitting, waiting for it to begin. They all knew what they were about to hear would not be pleasant. She was planning on going with Albus to the Dursley’s to have a talk with them. So far he had sent a letter to them, but still planned a visit. His first priority had been to get Harry settled and comfortable. He had his own room with his own sitting room and bathroom right close to where Minerva slept.

Albus gave him a goblet of Pumpkin juice that was spiked with the Truth Potion. Harry grinned and began drinking quickly. Severus had to tell him to slow down before he choked.

“How was that Harry?” Albus asked now.

“Very good,” Harry answered, “I never had pumpkin juice before Hogwarts.”

“And you are very happy at Hogwarts?” Albus continued noticing the potion was taking effect.

“Yes. I don’t go to school no more though,” Harry answered, “This is a school.”

Albus saw Minerva look at him sharply. They were planning on bringing in a tutor for him soon so he could learn what he needed to know. Harry had asked them several times when he was going to go back to school again. When Minerva hadn’t been too busy she had taught him what she could. He told her he could count but didn’t know the alphabet very well. Albus had been putting off bringing in a tutor so far.

“We will make arrangements for your education,” Albus said and the look of confusion that appeared on Harry’s face indicated he hadn’t understood what he had said. “Do you miss your aunt, uncle and cousin?”

“No,” Harry said. “I don’t like them. They hurt me all the time.”

“How did they hurt you?” Albus continued ignoring Minerva, even Snape was fidgeting.

“Spanked me a lot. And hit me here,” he said as he pointed at his head. Then he showed them other places he had been hit. “I was a bad boy all the time. I burnt breakfast. On Halloween I made the Dursley’s sick.”

“What do you mean you made them sick?” Albus asked.

Albus remembered that Severus had mentioned that Harry thought he made his family were sick. Severus hadn’t understood what he had meant.

“The bacon. Uncle Vernon said Dudley was sick when they went trick-or-treating. And it was the bacon I made for breakfast. Mr. Snape told me that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were sick too. That’s why I am here. I made them all sick.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he heard Severus mutter as he glanced uneasily at Harry.

“Your aunt, uncle and cousin are fine,” Albus said. “They are no longer sick and you are not here because they were sick.”

Minerva cleared her throat as if to contradict him but he glanced at her sharply. He looked back at Harry who looked really upset now.

“Have you been worried about your aunt, uncle and cousin getting sick from the bacon all this time?” Albus continued.

“Yes. I am a bad boy. My parents didn’t want me and they were worthless. They died because I was a bad boy,” Harry said.

“No.”

Albus glanced at Severus, it had been he who had spoken while Minerva was dabbing at her cheeks and muttering about the Dursley’s. Though Severus liked to act as if he didn’t want Harry around, Albus knew at that moment that he cared for Harry. His face was white with anger as he had said this. Harry was looking at him too.

“You are not a bad boy Harry,” Severus said. “It is not your fault that your parents are dead.”

“Did they tell you that?” Minerva said in a choked voice. “What have they been telling you Harry?”

“I deserve beatings,” Harry said and then continued.

As Harry talked, Albus grew angry and felt regret that it had been he who had put Harry there. He listened as Harry told them that he hadn’t been allowed to talk about his parents. He hadn’t even known their names before he had come to Hogwarts. He only ever got broken toys for his birthday. After he turned five, he had to start doing chores and cooking breakfast. He explained to them that he was ‘stupid’ and a bad boy because he couldn’t make breakfast properly.

“Harry. You are a very good boy. It was not your fault that your parents died. I knew your mum and dad. They loved you a lot,” Albus said. “They didn’t want to leave you ever. They were not worthless either. Do you understand that?”

“I’m not a bad boy?” Harry asked. “But Uncle Vernon said I deserved beatings.”

“He was wrong,” Severus said; Albus knew he was thinking of his father who had told him the same thing.

“No one deserves that Harry, especially a very good boy like you. You have been very good during the time you’ve been at Hogwarts. You came here because we wanted you to,” Albus continued. “You want to stay here?”

“Yes ‘cause no one gets angry if I do magic. You do magic too. If I did magic I got a spanking,” Harry said. “Everyone is nice. I don’t wanna be at my aunt and uncles no more.”

“Anymore,” Minerva corrected, “and you never have to see them again. This is your new home Harry.”

“When can I play outside in the snow?” Harry asked looking pleased now. “I only stay inside but I looked out the window and saw all the snow. It is so big here. There is a big forest too.”

“You will never go inside that forest Harry,” Minerva said, “especially by yourself.”

“Just like the dungeons right?” Harry asked, “I’m not allowed down there by myself. Only with Mr. Snape or Mr. Filch.”

They talked with Harry a little longer who answered their questions, but he was getting distracted and tired. He randomly asked them questions that had nothing to do with what they were talking about. Finally Albus decided to give him a little more pumpkin juice with another potion in it. The Truth Potion seemed to be wearing off.

“Not too much Albus; he has to go to bed and I don’t want him wetting the bed,” Minerva said.

Once Harry had drunk the pumpkin juice, wisps of blue misty air seemed to come from his mouth and ears. Quickly, Minerva, Albus and Severus moved forward and began placing them in a stone basin that was on Dumbledore’s desk with their wands. Afterward, Minerva picked Harry up and took him down to bed. Severus stared at the stone basin and then at Albus.

“Can I go too Headmaster? I don’t want to witness this. I’ve heard enough. I don’t think I want to go into the Pensieve just to see them beat him,” Severus said.

“It seems you care about the child after all,” Dumbledore said.

“I don’t care about him. I just don’t like finding out that this is what happened to Lily’s son,” Severus answered, “If she knew what her sister did to him . . . ”

But Albus knew differently, no matter how many times Severus complained that Harry was a brat, and that he would be his father all over again, he cared for the little boy. They all did and not because he was famous. Albus hadn’t thought he could care about someone as much as he cared about Harry. He had taken over all of their lives. He decided after he went to visit the Dursley’s he would have to hire a tutor.

He had been putting it off, hoping there was a possibility that he could stop the abuse and let Harry live with his Aunt and Uncle again. However, after what he heard what the boy had said he knew this wasn’t possible, he wasn’t about to put Harry back with those people. He was sure everyone else would protest if he told them that Harry was going back. He had hoped Petunia would forget her jealously of her sister after all these years and take care of Harry as her own. He had been wrong.

“You may go, I don’t want to see this myself, but it’s important. There is a chance we can charge them if the abuse is too bad. We may even be able to take their son away.”

“I hope so,” Severus said getting up, "There should be a way to prevent them from having another. Harry told me they wanted to have a daughter someday but couldn’t because of him.”

Minerva kept her wand in her robes knowing she would hex the Dursleys into oblivion if she kept it in her hand. She and Albus stood on their front steps late one evening. He had rung the doorbell. They could hear small running footsteps at the door. A moment later, a very chubby blond haired boy opened the door. He stared at Albus with shock. He didn’t seem to notice Minerva at all.

“Are you a wizard?” he whispered taking in his wizard’s hat, long hair and beard, along with his star-spangled robes. “Like on cartoons?”

“Who is it Dudders?” they heard a woman call.

“A wizard!” the boy yelled back.

“What!?” an angry mans voice shouted.

After a few minutes, a slim blond haired woman appeared wearing a scowl followed by her husband who was a very large man. Minerva glared at him remembering when he had smacked Harry across the face. The Dursley’s stared at them for a moment before Albus stepped into the house making Minerva gasp, but it was obvious that the Dursley’s weren’t going to invite them in.

“What do you think you are doing sir?” Vernon Dursley asked snapping out of his shock.

“We are here to talk about Harry Potter,” Albus answered calmly.

“You aren’t bringing him back here are you?” Vernon asked.

“You will never see that boy again,” Minerva snapped. “No, we are here to talk about what went on here when he lived here.”

“That boy liked to tell lies,” Vernon said, “Whatever he told you, he made up. We took him in didn’t we? We gave him clothes to wear. We fed him. I don’t know why your lot couldn’t have taken him in the first place.”

“You are Harry’s only remaining relatives,” Albus said, “I asked you in the letter I left with Harry to take care of him as if you would with your own. You did not do this.” Though Albus was not shouting or glaring, he seemed to be letting off waves of anger anyway. Minerva watched the Dursley step together. Petunia pulled Dudley close. “You were cruel to that boy. You treated him like a slave. Harry was abused while he lived here. He did not wish to tell us, but we forced him.”

“What is wrong with you!?” Minerva snapped, “How could you hit an innocent child? I saw you-” she said pointing at Vernon, who stepped back “-smack Harry across the face Halloween night.”

“Have you been spying on us?” Petunia snapped; she looked more disturbed about being spied on than how she had treated her little nephew.

“And it’s a damn good thing we did!” Minerva said having trouble controlling her temper.

“That’s all you wizards do,” Petunia snapped back, “I had enough of that when I was younger. Don’t you have anything better to do then spy on decent people?”

“Decent people!?” Minerva yelled, “Decent people do not abuse a child. I’m glad we saw what you were doing. You told him it was his fault he got abused and that his parents were dead. How can you be so cruel?”

“I will not have you stand here and accuse us of crimes you can’t prove we did,” Vernon Dursley said. “That child was an insolent brat the first day we took him in. If he might have got a beating once and a while it was because he deserved it. As for you wizarding type, you have no right to butt into our business. We didn’t want him in the first place did we? You left him here on our front porch and we took him. You have him back and if I never see that brat again it will be too soon.”

“We do have proof,” Albus said in his calm voice again, “and we will use it against you. We have been to the Ministry of Magic. You have been called to a hearing at the Ministry that you will show up for. There is a chance you can be charged for your crimes and even lose your son.”

“No!” Petunia shouted pulling Dudley closer. “Why can’t you wizards leave us alone? I never wanted this! I never wanted Lily to be a witch and I didn’t want her son! Lily knew that! I know Lily would not have appointed me his guardian. She had friends at that freak place, why didn’t he go with one of them?”

“That boy was dangerous!” Vernon roared, “He set a cat after me! Look. I still have the scars from it! He also made Dudley sick on Halloween night!”

“He didn’t set a cat after you,” Minerva said, “that was I! I saw you slap Harry across the face. And I also know that you were letting your boy eat all the treats he wanted that night. That’s why he got sick. It had nothing to do with Harry!”

Vernon Dursley face had turned purple with his anger. Little Dudley was looking from his parents to Minerva and Dumbledore looking a little frightened. Minerva stared down at him before looking at Petunia Dursley.

“Is there a place we could talk calmly where the child isn’t around?” she asked.

“We could go in the kitchen,” Petunia said looking very pale. “Dudders, please run upstairs and get ready for bed, I’ll be up to read you a story.”

“Where is Harry?” Dudley asked ignoring his mother, “Where did he go? He was here Halloween, but now he is gone. Christmas is soon. But Harry is a bad boy so he doesn’t get presents.”

Minerva glared at Petunia who glanced at Dudley looking even paler. So they had taught their son that Harry was bad too? Minerva thought angrily. She hoped that the justice for their crimes would be served, and severely. Petunia asked to be excused for a moment; she grabbed Dudley’s hand and started pulling him toward the stairs.

“Vernon, dear, please take them to the kitchen,” she said.

Vernon glared at her then back at Minerva and Albus. Sighing, he motioned for them to follow him. He muttered something under his breath as he stomped loudly into the kitchen. At the kitchen door, he whirled around suddenly to glare at them again.

“Since when do normal people like me have to go to a hearing from people like you?” he snarled.

“There are muggles who work with cases that involve child abuse in our world,” Albus answered. “They are sworn to secrecy or course. Harry isn’t the first case we’ve had. There have been muggleborn students who had abusive parents. It happens a lot unfortunately.”

“I didn’t lay a hand on that boy,” Vernon muttered angrily holding the door open for them.

Minerva closed her eyes slowly and opened them. It was going to be a very long night. It would have been easier if she could just attack them as a cat again.

“MONSTER! MONSTER!”

Minerva woke up, she felt as if she had been slapped. She sat up and rubbed her eyes and looked around. A small red figure ran into her room yelling. Sometimes she wished she hadn’t agreed to have Harry in the sleeping quarters next to hers. She loved the boy, but he seemed to have night terrors often. His first couple weeks with them had been about the Dursley’s. Now apparently it was going to be about monsters.

She smirked a little, wondering how Severus would feel if he had to deal with a little boys nightmares. If Harry came running into his room, he would likely hex him. Harry climbed onto the bed sobbing hard and shaking. Sighing Minerva pulled him close to hug him. It had been years since she had cared for a child as young as Harry.

“What kind of monster?” she asked.

“Big ears and big eyes. It was cleaning my stuff,” Harry sobbed.

It took Minerva a few moments to realize what he was talking about. She had a feeling one of the House Elves had gone into his room to clean. Harry had woken up and saw it. None of them had thought to introduce him to the House Elves. She got out of bed and carried Harry back to his sleeping quarters. Sure enough there was a House Elf cleaning Harry’s bathroom when they entered. It was barely taller then Harry was but she could see how it would frighten him.

“Harry. That’s not a monster,” Minerva explained, “It’s a House Elf and he won’t hurt you.”

“So sorry madam,” The house elf squeaked, “Erty didn’t mean to wake young Master Potter.”

Harry still sniffled into her neck. He had his arms around her tightly. He didn’t seem to want to look at the house elf.

“Listen, Erty, we’re going to have to make a new schedule. Harry has never met a house elf. Until he is more comfortable, you will have to clean his room when he isn’t around,” Minerva said.

He nodded and thanked her before disapparating with a loud crack. Minerva set Harry down onto his feet. He stared up at her. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks. He wiped his nose with his red pyjama sleeve.

“What’s a house elf?” he asked.

“They are magical creatures who clean people’s houses for them. They also make our meals. They are harmless and would never hurt you,” she explained.

She suddenly remembered that when they had picked out children’s books for Harry, there had been one about a House Elf. She walked over to the small book shelf they had set up for him and looked for it. The boy was going to be very spoiled; she wouldn’t be surprised if Snape’s prediction came true. He believed that Harry was going to be arrogant when he was older. He had a couple toy boxes filled with toys, a lot of clothes and anything else a five-year-old would need. She reminded herself that he deserved it after the life he went through. She pulled a book out called:

The Boy and his House Elf

She sat down in a rocker they had also put in the room and looked at Harry.

“Would you like me to read you a story about a house elf?” she asked.

He nodded and ran to climb up into her lap. She rocked and read to him, it wasn’t long before he fell asleep. She smiled down at him as he breathed deeply. In the beginning she hadn’t wanted him to live in the castle. It would be hard for everyone because he would need watching, however that didn’t seem to be the case. Whoever was in charge of him rarely had any problems with him. Her Gryffindors were also good with him. There had been a couple times when some of them had taken him out on weekends to play with him when the teachers needed a rest. Everything was working out for the best and she was glad he was here. She didn’t ever want him to go and she wished he could stay a little boy forever.

There was a chance that he couldn’t stay at Hogwarts. The Ministry was questioning whether or not Hogwarts was the place that Harry Potter should be raised. They weren’t sure if Dumbledore should be making decisions for Harry. It had been he who decided Harry should live with his Aunt and Uncle. Minerva therefore had applied for guardianship since she had been the one to rescue him. One of them had to be a guardian of Harry in order for him to stay.

The Dursleys trial was still going on. Dudley Dursley had been temporarily taken away from his parents for the trial. Vernon Dursley could face charges of child abuse while Petunia Dursley could face charges for enabling child abuse. They were even looking to send Vernon to jail.

The Magical Law Enforcement had wanted to question Harry but Dumbledore hadn’t wanted to put Harry through it again. Instead he provided his memories of Harry’s confession along with some of Harry’s own memories. Abarella Figg had also testified that she had noticed Harry looked as if he had been abused. Madam Pomfrey had decided to take pictures of Harry the night he had arrived before she had taken care of him.

She knew Harry wouldn’t ever return to the Dursleys. She just hoped she could be named as his full time guardian instead of temporary.

“It’s Christmas and I got presents!” Harry shouted as soon as Snape sat down for breakfast.

“Indeed,” he said, he wasn’t a morning person and the last thing he needed was an excited five-year-old yelling in his ear.

“I liked your present. Thank you Mr. Snape.”

Severus gave him a small smile before drinking his coffee and looking down at the Daily Prophet. He could feel the other teachers smirking at him. It had been a last minute decision to buy the boy a present while he was in Hogsmeade. He had bought him a stuffed cat since the boy was very fond of cats. It had been very cheap and he hadn’t put a lot of thought into it so he wished the others would mind their own business.

“Guess what else I got Mr. Snape, I got some chocolate frogs-”

“Which, by the sounds of it, you probably ate them all,” Severus interrupted, he really didn’t want to hear about all the presents the boy had received. He knew he would since the Potter brat never stopped talking. What had happened to the shy boy who had first come?

“No,” Harry said shaking his head quickly, “Mrs. McGonagall said I couldn’t until this afternoon.”

“Harry, please eat your breakfast so I can read the paper,” Severus said. “Then maybe you could play with your new toys.”

“And you could play with me,” Harry said.

Severus glared at McGonagall as she choked on her coffee. He grunted and picked up his paper to finish reading it. Why did the child have to bother him so much? He didn’t spoil him the way the other teachers did. He wouldn’t call it being mean, but he wasn’t exactly nice to him. He’d called Harry a brat the other day and all Harry had just laughed. Flitwick and Sprout annoyed him to no end when they asked if he planned to adopt Harry. As if he would make a good father . . .

He was glad when he lowered his paper to see that Harry was now sitting beside Albus telling him about his presents. Severus looked around the Great Hall now to see how many students had stayed for Christmas. He knew six of his Slytherin’s had stayed. He glanced at the Slytherin table. None had come down yet. There were many Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in the Great Hall, and only a few Ravenclaws.

It was decorated with its usual twelve Christmas trees, which Harry had been more then happy to help decorate. He had been more of a nuisance then any help. And it was Severus Harry had chosen to help at first. He managed to shake Harry off by having him help Flitwick. He thought the boy should take to Flitwick better then anyone else since they were almost the same height. Harry didn’t seem to notice though. It had been Flitwick who had shown Harry that the ceiling was enchanted to show the sky and Severus wished he hadn’t. Every day since, Harry had pointed out what the weather was, as if they all needed telling and couldn’t see themselves.

He was glad the excitement that Harry Potter was living at Hogwarts had died down. The first month, he couldn’t turn down a corridor without hearing people talking about it. Surprisingly they had all listened to the Headmaster and left him alone. Some of the much older students were even allowed to watch him on weekends. None of them had said a word to Harry about how he was famous.

He looked at McGonagall, “Should we let him stay with some of the older students today?” It was his way in letting them know that he was not playing with the boy.

“Don’t you want to play with him?” Flitwick asked.

“Yes, I think Harry would love to play with you,” Sprout added with a smile.

“Shut up,” he said in a low voice. He looked down the table, Harry was now with Hagrid.

The boy had long ago learned that Hagrid was indeed harmless and was now very taken with him. All he needed was for Harry to hear Sprout and Flitwick. Harry didn’t seem to be paying attention, he was laughing at something Hagrid was telling him.

“We could arrange that,” McGonagall said. “Though I’m not sure about the first years. They may reveal something they shouldn’t from their excitement. I’d say anyone fifth year or older could.”

“Well all of my students are third year and younger,” Snape said.

“I have a couple sixth years staying,” Sprout said. “And I’m sure they would enjoy a day with Harry Potter.”

“Glad someone would,” Snape muttered.

Yet, even though he said this, he knew he did like Harry. That’s what scared him. He didn’t want to get too fond of the child. There was only one person he had ever loved and slowly he was starting to love her son. He had never wanted that. In fact, he had planned on ignoring him when he had come to school when he was older. The boy made that impossible. Severus looked at Harry again. He was now talking to Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher. He had won all of their hearts.

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.

Harry ran through the corridors quickly hurrying to the Dungeons where Mr. Snape had told him to meet him. He was finally going to meet a wizard boy his own age. Harry was tired of not having anyone to play with him. The older students usually talked to him and even played with him at times, but it wasn’t the same. The teachers were always checking up on them anyway, Mrs. McGonagall in particular.

He had his own sitting room in his sleeping quarters and he was allowed to invite students inside as long he told her first. She had to see who was going to be going with him. She would also talk to them first. It was very irritating at times. He didn’t complain; they were letting him do a lot more on his own. Mrs. McGonagall had started letting him wander the castle on his own after his eighth birthday. He was allowed to go down to the Dungeons on his own as long as he went straight to Mr. Snape’s office. He could also go out and play on his own as long as he stayed away from the Forbidden Forest and kept within sight of the castle. He had to tell someone first when he was going outside.

“Hey Potter!” an older boy called as he raced through the Entrance Hall, but Harry didn’t stop to see who it was.

He slowed down when he close to Mr. Snapes office. As he approached it, he thought he could hear arguing. Knowing that he shouldn’t; Harry pressed his ear up against the door. He would be able to hear if they were walking to the door, when they did he would pretend he hadn’t been listening. He was startled to hear it was Mrs. McGonagall and Mr. Snape.

“-Malfoy’s will be a bad influence on him. I just don’t think Harry should be associating with those kind of people. You know what they used to be.”

“They aren’t going to sign him up as a Death Eater, Minerva. Beside’s, who do you think you are talking to?”

“Well, you are a special case . . . but I remember Lucius Malfoy as a boy at Hogwarts. I just don’t know if Harry should be playing with his son.”

“I do recall you and Albus telling me that you shouldn’t judge a child on their parents. When Harry first came here, you reminded me that he was not James daily. I know you remember James as a clever boy, a trouble maker. I remember him as an arrogant, attention-seeking prat who thought the world should serve him. When did rules ever matter to James Potter, or his friends? Do you know how long it took for me to be able to look at Harry and not feel hatred or anger-”

Harry backed away from the door feeling stunned. Mr. Snape had hated his father? Harry turned away from the door, he was angry. So his father had been an attention-seeking prat had he? Harry kicked the wall. The teachers had often told him stories about his parents. Hagrid had even given him an album full of pictures of his parents for his seventh birthday. He had written to his parent’s old school friends to get them. Everyone talked highly of his parents. Mrs. McGonagall had said she enjoyed teaching his father. Mr. Flitwick had thought his father was funny. Even Mr. Dumbledore had good stories to tell about his father.

Mr. Snape hadn’t mentioned him much. Harry had known they had been the same age at school. Mr. Snape had failed to mention that he had hated him. Mr. Snape was one of his favourite people at Hogwarts. The first day Harry had met him he had been nice enough to answer his questions, and he had fixed his glasses. He was always very truthful and funny. He never treated Harry like a little kid the way the others did. He didn’t mind saying what he really thought.

Now Harry had to wonder if he did. He hadn’t been truthful with Harry at all. He should have told him that he hadn’t liked his father. He had never acted as though he disliked the fact that Harry looked exactly like his father. If he hated his father, then he hated Harry. Harry didn’t want to talk to someone who could be so rude about his father. He wasn’t going to go with Snape to meet the Malfoy boy or go with him anywhere ever again.

Harry passed people in the corridors on his way to his sleeping quarters but he ignored them when they called out his name. When he reached his sleeping quarters, he slammed the door and went to lie on his bed. He never wanted to see or talk to Snape again.

When Harry had first arrived more then three years ago, Severus would have been more then happy for the boy to ignore him. He would have been happy that the boy wanted nothing to do with him without an explanation. Instead, he ended up with a small boy who had taken to him right away without understanding why. Severus didn’t like this new Harry.

For a week, Harry had been ignoring him. It had started with the day that Harry was supposed to meet little Draco Malfoy for the first time. He knew Harry had been excited about it but when Severus went to his room later to take him, he had found a very angry boy. It almost reminded him of James Potter glaring at him. Harry hadn’t said a word to him about what had made him so angry. Harry would only speak to him at meal times if he had to.

Severus was determined to find out why. After a week of the silent treatment, he went to Harry’s sleeping quarters to find out why. He knocked on Harry’s door; it was a few moments before Harry opened the door. As soon as Harry saw who it was, he scowled up at him. Severus waited for him to slam the door on his face.

“Can I come in?” Severus asked.

Harry shrugged and stepped back to let him in. They walked over to where Harry’s little sitting area was. There was a chess board set up and also a set of Gobstones. Minerva allowed Harry to invite the older students in to play. It had been Severus who had taught Harry to play chess a year ago. Harry had been stunned to see the pieces fight each other, but had liked the game right away. He wasn’t sure who had taught Harry to play Gobstones.

Harry flopped down in an armchair and looked up at Snape expectantly. Snape sat on the couch and looked around to see that Harry or Minerva had started setting up Gryffindor banners around the room. The Gryffindor lion was on one side of the room, opposite was a banner said: Gryffindor, where dwell brave at heart! The background of the banner was red and the words were gold. Minerva certainly had done a good job on him. Snape pushed away the memory of his first meeting with James Potter, who had said those exact words.

“You are angry with me,” Severus finally said looking at Harry who nodded, he was scowling and had his arms folded. “Would you like to tell me why?”

Harry looked as though he wasn’t going to answer. He was quiet then said, “You hated my dad. I heard you say it.”

Snape stared at Harry for a moment and it came to him. Minerva hadn’t wanted him to take Harry to the Malfoy’s, so they had argued. Severus had asked Harry to meet him down in his office since he had some student’s homework that he wanted to finish marking. Harry had likely heard them talking through the door.

“Your father and I didn’t get along when we were at Hogwarts,” Severus answered. “You know about the house rivalry at Hogwarts don’t you? You know that Slytherin’s and Gryffindor’s have more fights then the other houses.”

“Yes,” Harry said stiffly. “but that’s not why you didn’t like my dad. You said he was arrogant and stuff. He wasn’t. Everyone tells me he was good.”

“He was a good wizard,” Severus began rather stiffly as well, he hated to admit it. “However, he was a trouble maker. And when he was a boy he was arrogant. But that is how I saw him. Your father didn’t like me much either. When you are older and in school you will understand it more. I am sure there will be a student you don’t get along with. I am sorry you had to find that out. It wasn’t my intention in telling you that until you were old enough to understand it.”

“What about my mum? I heard she was a Muggleborn. You were a Slytherin. The big kids tell me all the time that Slytherin’s don’t like Muggleborns,” Harry continued.

Harry was keeping eye contact with him now. It was as if the small boy wanted to read his every reaction. Had Dumbledore told him about his love for Lily Evans? He was sure the other teachers hadn’t known anything about it. Severus had asked him not to ever tell Harry about it. By the hard look Harry was giving him, he knew Dumbledore had kept his promise so far. Severus wasn’t ever going to tell him that he had loved Lily.

“At one time, your mother and I were on speaking terms. That is not well known and I’d rather you keep that to yourself, Harry,” Severus said and that was all he was going to say on the subject. “We didn’t speak much as we grew older. I also have no problems with Muggleborns.”

“I’ve heard my mum was a Gryffindor too. So how come you could talk to her but you and my dad didn’t get along?” Harry asked.

“Your mother and father were two different people Harry. It wasn’t just the fact he was a Gryffindor. We just simply didn’t get along at all. We were part of different groups of friends. Believe me, once you are a student at this school, you’ll understand,” Severus said.

“And you don’t mind that I look like my dad? ‘Cause I heard you say that when you looked at me, you felt angry,” Harry asked, he was giving in and Severus was pleased.

“No, I don’t mind. I see Harry Potter when I look at you, and no one else.”

Harry smiled and nodded. Then out of no where he asked, “Sir, why am I famous? Is it because of my mum and dad?”

Severus laughed, used to the question. “The Headmaster will tell you when you are old enough.”

“But when is he going to think I am big enough? I am nine in the summer. That is two years from eleven you know!” Harry whined, he sounded like his old self again.

Harry stared up at the large house with his mouth open. It had been a long time since he had held Mr. Snape’s hand, but he grabbed it now. They had just passed through wrought-iron gates. The house was surrounded by yew hedges. To Harry’s surprise, there was a peacock walking on the hedge, and in the distance he thought he saw another. He looked up at in surprise.

Though Harry was used to the large castle and some of the creatures Hagrid kept around, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the Manor they were approaching. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t seen a house this big or a house with Peacocks. The house he had lived in with his aunt and uncle had been very small in comparison. Harry noticed there was also a fountain in the yard. They walked passed the fountain and climbed onto a porch. Mr. Snape took his wand out of his pocket, and placed it in a hole where a doorbell might be.

A loud bell clang started going off. The door opened by a House-Elf who was wearing what looked like a pillow case, with rips in it for its arms and legs. Harry was used to the House-Elves but he had never seen one so beat up. The House-Elf bowing to them had a black eye and a large cut running down its one arm.

“What happened to you?” Harry asked the Elf after it greeted them then started to lead them inside.

“Just a punishment Mr. Harry Potter. Dobby was a bad elf. Dobby forgot to clean the sitting-room,” The Elf answered.

Harry looked up at Mr. Snape. This didn’t sit well with him at all. He had been punished by his aunt and uncle for not cleaning right. He knew House-Elves were servants, but he didn’t know they got punished if they made a mistake. All the teachers had told him that it was all right to make a mistake. As far as he knew, the House-Elves at Hogwarts were very happy. An older student had once shown him where the kitchens were, and Harry went down to visit them often. It wasn’t far from where the older Hufflepuff boy had told him that he was famous.

Sam Audrick still refused to tell him anything, on their last meeting he had told Harry to go away and leave him alone. Harry didn’t like the boy, but he had heard that no one liked him. A Hufflepuff girl named Lydia Jewel in his year had told him that Sam was always acting like he knew everything. In his first year he had tried making friends that way, but now he just did it because he knew no one liked him. Harry thought it was good to know, he didn’t want to act arrogant or like he was better then anyone. He wanted friends.

“Thank you, Dobby. You may begin dinner,” a cold male’s voice drawled bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry looked around; he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. Now he looked around the room they were in. It was a large room with a crystal chandelier above their heads. There were portraits along the wall. Harry noticed that the people in them moved around too, just like the Hogwarts ones. They were busy whispering and pointing at him. Harry shifted uncomfortably and looked at the three people who were staring at him.

The person who had spoken was walking toward them. The other two were sitting in two of the chairs that were in front of a marble fireplace. One was a woman. The other was a boy about Harry’s age. He had a pale pointed face, blond hair and was wearing black robes. He was smirking at Harry. Harry looked at the woman who was staring at him in interest, she looked almost pretty, but she also had a look on her face as if she could smell something unpleasant. She was wearing light blue witches’ robes. She was also blond.

“So this is Harry Potter,” Harry now looked up at the man, his son looked a lot like he did.

“Hello sir,” Harry said holding his hand out for the man to shake.

“Hmm, so they’ve been teaching him manners,” the man said to Mr. Snape.

The other two had risen from their chairs and were now walking over. The boy was looking Harry over. He walked in such an arrogant fashion. Harry felt a little dislike for him. He had seen his type at Hogwarts. For a fleeting moment, Harry wondered if this was what Mr. Snape had meant about his father. He really hoped not.

“Harry. This is Lucius Malfoy, his wife Narcissa and their son Draco,” Mr. Snape said.

Harry shook hands with Mrs. Malfoy when she approached, then with Draco. Draco looked shocked when Harry shook his hand as well, his smirk grew larger. Harry was aware that the portraits were still talking about him. In fact, some had moved into others’ portraits to get a better look at him.

“I can see the scar,” an elderly man who looked like Lucius Malfoy was whispering.

“Draco, why don’t you take Harry out to the yard,” Mr. Malfoy said as Mr. Snape frowned at the portraits, “and remember our discussion.”

“Come on,” Draco said.

Harry was led through another doorway then the one they had come in. They walked through the house so quickly that Harry barely had time to get a glimpse of the other rooms. From what he did see was that everything was fancy and huge. He saw Dobby scrambling around in the kitchen as they walked passed it. Draco led him into a large room with barely any furniture in it. It had an even larger chandelier then the sitting-room did.

“Oh, this is our ball room for parties,” Draco said in an offhand voice, he had the same drawl his father did.

He took him straight to some patio doors and out onto a large deck. The back yard was very large. Harry could see another peacock by the surrounding hedges. There was also a large fenced in swimming pool a little further down from the deck. Further into the yard was a small Quidditch Pitch. There was also what looked to be a swing set, but the chains of the swings weren’t attached to poles. They were suspended up in midair, held up by something invisible.

“So I am finally meeting the famous Harry Potter,” Draco said staring at Harry with a smirk. “Father told me you might come to visit soon. What’s it like at school? What are they teaching you?”

Harry stared at the boy before answering. Why was it that everyone knew what he was famous for? If Draco who was about his age knew, then why couldn’t Harry? And what was it about his scar that everyone was so interested in? He had caught the Malfoy’s trying to look at it along with the portraits. Now Draco was staring up at it with interest.

“It’s fun there. There are always Quidditch matches and practices. Mrs. McGonagall always lets me watch the Gryffindor practice. There are ghosts there and a poltergeist. His name is Peeves. But he is annoying,” Harry scowled; Peeves had stolen his toy snitch from him when he’d been playing with it in the corridors.

Draco didn’t look satisfied with his answer, so Harry went into detail about the Forbidden Forest, the lake that had a giant squid in it. He told him about a ghost named Moaning Myrtle who haunts a girl’s washroom, the House-Elves in the kitchens, and the enchanted sky in the Great Hall. Draco nodded as if he already knew about that. Harry didn’t want to tell him about his discovery of the room with hidden stuff in it. That was his secret, his hide-a-way.

“Have you seen the Common Rooms? Do you know where they are?” Draco asked sitting in a lawn chair on the deck, Harry sat down as well.

“No, none of the teachers will let me. I know Hufflepuff is near the kitchens and Slytherin is in the Dungeon’s,” Harry answered.

“That’s the house I want to be in,” Draco said smirking. “That’s where all Malfoy’s go. It’s the best house you know. How are we sorted anyway?” there was some eagerness in his voice.

“I don’t know. The teachers won’t let me watch. They said I have to wait for my own sorting like everyone else,” Harry answered; he wished he could tell him more. He did want a friend even if the boy was a little arrogant.

“Oh. So what do they teach you then?” Draco asked. “I heard you know a lot of magic now.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know any. They won’t let me do any magic. They just teach me stuff about the wizarding world,” he saw Draco looking surprised and added, “They don’t let me do anything or tell me anything. It was a very long time that I was allowed to go anywhere alone. Mrs. McGonagall won’t let me have my own broomsticks! They won’t tell me what I am famous for either . . . ” then Harry looked at Draco eagerly, “But you know, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Draco said in the arrogant drawl, “but I’m not supposed to tell you. Father said you know nothing. He said you still think that your parents-” then he stopped himself.

“My parents what?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, can’t,” Draco said. “I promised I wouldn’t. I don’t feel like being punished thanks.”

“But I won’t tell them,” Harry said feeling frustrated with Draco, why had he started to say it then?

“Father will know. He put a spell on me. That’s why I couldn’t finish telling you. It stopped me. If I went any further then that, he would have found out,” Draco said glaring at the house. “So you aren’t a powerful wizard?”

“No,” Harry answered. “Is that why I am famous?”

Draco stood up and looked out toward the yard. “Didn’t I just say I can’t tell you? We thought you would be since you went to Hogwarts already.”

Harry stood up as well; Draco started to walk toward the steps on the deck. Harry followed him off the deck, toward the swing set. Harry guessed that the swings had to be held up by magic. He had only seen ones in the Muggle world and he hadn’t been allowed on them. His aunt had made him sit and watch Dudley play on them.

“You thought they were teaching me magic?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Draco said sitting on a swing. “My friends thought so too. You should meet them some time. I wanted them here when you came but father said no. I am having a birthday party soon; you can come if you want. I am turning nine. Are you nine yet?”

“I’m not nine until July thirty-first.” Harry said sitting on the other swing.

The swings started to move on their own without Draco or Harry making them. Harry knew with Muggle swings, parents had to push their kids or else you had to kick off.

“My birthday is June fifth. That’s not long at all. I am going to get a lot of presents too. I bet father buys me a broomsticks. Do you fly well? I am a great flyer,” Draco shouted as the swings started to move faster and faster on their own.

“I’ve only flown the school brooms,” Harry called back, who had learned quickly that they were very old, “but Madam Hooch said I am good. I can’t have my own broom yet.”

He wanted his own broomstick too, but Mrs. McGonagall told him he had to wait until he was twelve. He had tried to get her to change her mind about it on several occasions.

“Mrs. McGonagall, I won’t play on it at all when I’m a first year. I’ll use the school ones then, I promise!” Harry had pleaded but she was stubborn and had said no.

“Really? They won’t let you have a broom? Father always let me get new brooms. I want to get the new Comet two-sixty that is coming out,” Draco called.

He did a jerking twist in his seat and the swing came to an abrupt halt in mid air, and then slowly went back to a hanging position so Harry did the same. Draco got off his swing and beckoned Harry to follow him to the small Quidditch Pitch. He went to a small shed behind one side of the goal posts and pulled out two brooms.

“These are Nimbus seventeen hundreds and they are top of the line. You’ll have to see if you can handle that, Potter. A lot difficult I bet then the school brooms. I’ve been flying since I was five. How long have you been?” Draco asked in a snooty voice handing Harry one; Harry saw that the shed was packed full of brooms.

“Since right before I turned seven.” Harry answered; it almost seemed as if Draco was competing with him. “I had a toy broomsticks before then.”

“I stopped playing with toy brooms when I was four,” Draco said smugly, “then I was flying every where when my dad bought me a real one on my fifth birthday.”

Draco struggled to pull out a heavy box from the shed as well. He opened it up; it had all the Quidditch balls in it. Draco pulled out the Quaffle.

“There are only two of us. We’ll just take turns with this. Maybe on my birthday we can play a real game. I’ll be a keeper first. You are a chaser,” Draco said.

He was bossy but Harry didn’t mind at that moment, it was his stuff after all. As soon as Harry climbed on the broom, he had to test it out. It was a lot better then the ones at school. This one didn’t vibrate on sharp turns. Draco looked disappointed that Harry was a good flyer. Instead of continuing with the game of Quidditch, they began racing each other instead. Harry was disappointed when Mr. Snape came out announcing it was time to go.

“Make sure you come to my birthday party,” Draco said before Harry left when they were inside after they had put the brooms away. “And bring me a good present.”

Harry could hear Mr. Malfoy scolding Draco as they left and smiled.

“You’ve gotten really good at chess,” Bill Weasley said in amazement as Harry beat him. He hoped Bill hadn’t let him win as the older students usually did.

Mrs. McGonagall seemed to approve of Harry talking to Bill and Charlie Weasley. Bill was also Head Boy. He had met them a year before and their younger brother Percy. Harry didn’t talk to Percy much but he liked Charlie since he was a great Seeker on the Gryffindor team. All three Weasley’s had flaming red hair. Bill was a cool seventh year. Mrs. McGonagall had asked Bill to watch Harry for a Saturday because she had a lot to do. He had taught Harry about a game called Gobstones.

It was fun game played with stones. Whenever a player lost a point, the stones would spit a disgusting liquid at the player. Harry had begged Mrs. McGonagall to buy him a set. He already had a chess set. They had played that as well. Afterward, Bill would play with Harry again if he wasn’t busy. He introduced him to Charlie since Harry asked about him and then Percy. Percy just wanted to do school work and had seemed anxious the whole time they had played together.

“You aren’t coming back next year, are you?” Harry asked Bill sadly.

“No, this is my last year of school. But I have twin brothers coming next year. I also have a brother your age and a sister a year younger. They know I’ve met you. They can’t wait to meet you,” Bill answered.

“They know why I am famous too?” Harry asked.

“Yes, and no I am not going to tell you why you’re famous,” Bill answered, Harry had asked him to tell him before. “Now, let’s have another game.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Minerva said pacing in front of Snape’s desk, “the people who talk to the Malfoys . . . ”

“Minerva, what are you going to do if Harry is sorted into Slytherin house? You realize he’ll be associated with people like Draco every day? And as you can see, Harry enjoyed himself,” Snape said to her.

Minerva glared at him, still pacing. When Harry had come back from the Malfoys, he had barged into her office and demanded answers about why he was famous. He had wanted to know why everyone had been staring at his scar. Little Draco Malfoy had almost revealed something to him as well but had been forced to stop from an enchantment put on him.

“They might tell him more then he needs to know,” she said, “And Albus still doesn’t think the time is right to tell him.”

“Well, I wish he would,” Snape said, “he is pestering me about it, and sometimes the students too. I overheard Bill Weasley saying that he wished we would just tell him the truth. Draco had almost told him how his parents had really died.”

“I know, but Albus just doesn’t think he is ready. He says he is too young still,” Minerva said.

“All of you treat him as if he is still the abused five-year-old. Harry understands a lot more then you think he does. He is also very observant. He’s going to keep trying to put all the pieces together until he figures it out,” Snape said. “he watches us to see our reactions and listens to our conversations. He hopes he will pick something up.”

Minerva hadn’t realized this before, and wondered how Snape knew. Before she could ask, he answered for her.

“I’ve seen him listening when we don’t think he is. In the staff lounge when we think he is playing or doing his lessons from his tutor, but he is only pretending. I’ve seen him watch you and Albus talk. I also found out he watches our faces after he found out how I felt about his father. He was trying to see if I was lying to him.”

She knew they had to tell him and soon. It was two years from the time they would be preparing him for Hogwarts. It was hard to believe that he would be a student soon. It would be a lot easier for all of them once he was. He would be in his Common Room or classes. They wouldn’t have to keep an eye on him then. She was sure he had a hiding place somewhere. She just didn’t know where exactly.

“But Albus won’t tell him. What if one of the children reveals something? I just think it would be best if he didn’t go.” Minerva said. “Perhaps we’ll let the Malfoy boy visit Harry in Hogsmeade for his birthday.”

She really didn’t want Harry at a party where old Death Eater’s would be. Harry had already asked what a Death Eater was, and she couldn’t tell him, it would be revealed to him when he knew his secret. A lot of children around Harry’s age that played with Draco Malfoy were the sons and daughters of ex-Death Eaters. She knew the adults would likely stay as well. She shook her head. No, she wasn’t letting him go. If there was a chance he was sorted into Slytherin, she would worry about that later.

“I just can’t allow him to go,” She said, “Severus, you are just going to have to explain that to them. He can visit Draco sometimes. Do remind them not to stare at his scar until he knows the truth. He is getting suspicious.”

Harry lay in bed for several minutes before jumping up excitedly. He was nine years old today. In exactly two years they would be getting his wand and school books. Mrs. McGonagall had promised that they would do that on his eleventh birthday. Being nine-years-old meant he wasn’t a little kid anymore, that’s what Draco had told him anyway.

The boys had kept in contact with each other by writing. Harry usually used one of the school owls to send his letters, but Draco used a big eagle owl. He had been disappointed when Harry couldn’t come to his party, but was glad to find out they were meeting in Diagon Alley for Harry’s birthday. Mrs. McGonagall was going to have it in Hogsmeade, but Draco’s parents hadn’t wanted him to go to Hogsmeade. He would be able to see Hogwarts from Hogsmeade and they wanted Draco’s first glimpse of Hogwarts to be in his first year.

Harry still felt annoyed by Draco’s arrogance but he was the only person his age that he knew. He hadn’t been too impressed with Draco’s remark about the Weasley’s either. He had said in a letter that the Weasley’s were poor and weren’t good enough wizards. Harry had written back that he liked Bill and Charlie Weasley. Charlie was an excellent Quidditch player after all. Draco had told him that it took more then that to be a good wizard. He also seemed to have a problem with Muggleborns. Harry knew plenty of Muggleborns, and his mother had been one.

I heard those Muggles you lived with abused you. How can you stick up for Muggles after that? Draco had written when Harry had told him that there was nothing wrong with Muggles or Muggleborns. Harry knew that just like there could be good and bad wizards, it was the same with Muggles. He had known some very nice Muggles as well. Mrs. Figg had been nice, even if she had made him look at pictures of her cats. Harry wondered what had happened to the tabby cat that had attacked his uncle. He liked cats a lot now after one had protected him.

When he told Draco that not all Muggles were like his aunt and uncle, Draco had disagreed. He told him to read up about what Muggles had done to wizards. He told him that his aunt and uncle had known that Harry was a wizard and that’s why they had hurt him. He had heard it from his father who had been at the Dursley trial. He had written that Muggles just couldn’t accept anything different and so it was better not to talk to them, which included Muggleborns. Harry still disagreed and was sure it would always be an argument between them if they remained friends.

Harry forgot about Draco momentarily when he saw the pile of presents at the end of his bed. He hurriedly went over to the pile and stared down at them. He noticed at the top there was one from Bill Weasley. He was surprised that the older boy had known his birthday. He grabbed it and opened it quickly. It was a battered book, but Harry knew the Weasley family didn’t have much money. Reading the cover, he saw that it was a book about chess strategies.

There were more presents from other students he had gotten to know over the years. A lot of it was small Quidditch toys; everyone seemed to know how much he liked Quidditch. There were also some fake wands. He had a lot of those. He still had his very first one. It had been from Mr. Snape. Charlie Weasley gave him the Snitch he had caught at the beginning of the school year the year before. It had been a spectacular catch; people had talked about it for months.

Harry sat back watching it fly around his room for a few moments before opening more presents. There were the usual ones from the teachers that he always got. They were all toys and books. Mr. Snape had given him a book about wizard and Muggle relations. He had taken Draco’s advice and decided to read more about what had happened in the past. He wanted to understand why some wizards didn’t like Muggleborns. He’d asked Mr. Snape and Mrs. McGonagall for the information.

“I want you to know that you shouldn’t judge them too harshly Harry,” Mrs. McGonagall had said. “Your aunt and uncle are a special case and never deserved children. However, wizards aren’t innocent either. Wizards have in the past tortured Muggles for no reason except for the sport of it. Muggles did what they did out of fear. That’s why it’s better that we are living the way we do. Of course at times there are children born of Muggle parentage such as your mother, but we all know it doesn’t really make a difference and most parents understand.”

He didn’t need her to explain that to him, he already knew all that. He had learned about it from his tutor. He just wanted to know exactly what had happened in the past that had caused the attitude between wizards and Muggles. It might help him understand his aunt and uncle better. He often wondered how they were doing. He knew his uncle had gone to a Muggle prison, he had over heard the teachers talking about it. He had also heard them say that his aunt had been mean because his uncle had abused her as well.

He knew that was true. He had witnessed it himself. He just hadn’t understood it at the time. Now, at age nine, he knew a lot more. His teachers had all helped him understand everything better. Mrs. McGonagall, Mr. Snape, Hagrid, and Mr. Dumbledore mostly.

There was a knock on his door. Mrs. McGonagall no longer walked into his room the way she had in the past. She now knocked to respect his privacy. He yelled for her to come in. She opened the door carrying a bundle. She smiled at him.

“Happy birthday Harry. I can’t believe you are nine already.” She said. “I have a present for you.”

“But you already gave me a pack of Exploding Snap cards,” he said pointing at his pile of birthday presents and cards.

“Yes, but this one I would like you to wear today. I thought you could wear a pair of dress robes,” she answered and handed him the bundle.

“You want me to dress up?” he asked surprised as he opened the bundle. It was a pair of emerald green dress robes.

“Not every day you turn nine,” she said. “Once you are dressed, Mr. Dumbledore would like to see you in his office. The password is Sugar Quill. Afterward, meet me in my office. Then we will go to Diagon Alley.”

“Ok, and thanks for the dress robes,” Harry said. Though he really didn’t want to dress up, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

After he was dressed, he hurried to the Headmasters’ office. Mr. Dumbledore was the only one who had his office protected. The Staff room was password protected as well.. Mr. Dumbledore’s office was guarded by a gargoyle.

“Sugar Quill!” Harry said.

The gargoyle moved aside and Harry climbed onto the revolving staircase. He felt excited; he knew he was finally going to find out why he was famous. He knocked on the door and heard him call:

“Enter.”

Harry went inside and looked around as he usually did at all the strange objects. Mr. Dumbledore certainly had an interesting office, he didn’t understand any of the strange stuff but they were fun to look at. He looked around to see if he could see Fawkes the Phoenix, but didn’t see the bird anywhere. He went straight to a chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

“Happy birthday Harry. You’ve certainly grown a lot in all the time I’ve known you. You look more and more like your father every day, except you have your mother’s eyes.”

“Thanks sir,” Harry said, everyone always told him he was growing to look more and more like his father. He wondered when he finally would look like him.

“I know you have a special day planned so I won’t keep you waiting,” Mr. Dumbledore continued. “I have something for you. It used to be your father’s. I’ve been holding on to it for years. I thought now you are old enough to have it back. I was going to give it to you in your first year. The circumstances changed of course since you now live at Hogwarts.”

Harry waited with bated breath. It was going to be something to explain why he was famous. He knew it. Mr. Dumbledore handed him a bundle that seemed like the one Mrs. McGonagall had given him. He opened up the package and pulled out something silvery grey. He had never touched anything like it. It felt like water woven into the material. He held it up and felt it more curiously. He wasn’t sure what it could be or why Mr. Dumbledore thought he should have it.

“Why don’t you try it on?” Mr. Dumbledore said with a smile.

Harry wrapped it around himself and stared down at where his body had been. It dawned on him slowly what it was.

“An Invisibility Cloak!” he exclaimed and stared down in amazement, “but they are rare, aren’t they? I heard the big kids talking about how much they wanted one.”

“Yes they are. Your father had leant it to me but he had died before I could give it back. Now I would like to return it. However, I would like to ask for you not to use it to hide from any of us. I think at the age of nine you can use it maturely,” Mr. Dumbledore said.

“Yes, of course,” Harry said, “I will take good care of it too. Thank you for giving it to me. Are you going to tell Mrs. McGonagall that I have it?”

“I’ll leave that up to you. But I do hope you won’t use it to hide from her.”

“Of course not,” Harry said.

He wasn’t planning using it to hide but he did know her well. She would likely take it away from him and give it back when he was seventeen. She always thought he was too young for everything. At times that’s why he wished Mr. Snape was his guardian; he never treated him like a baby. Yet, he wanted her to be his guardian as well. She was a lot kinder then Mr. Snape was.

“Well Harry, I’m sure you have a big day planned for you, and I have some work to do. So I will see you soon,” Mr. Dumbledore said. “I hope you have a good day.”

“Wait,” Harry said feeling disappointed. “I was hoping you would tell me why I am famous.”

“That day is coming soon, but it’s not today,” Mr. Dumbledore answered.

It was a fun birthday in Diagon Alley at first. Normally Harry spent his birthdays at the castle. They had it at the Leaky Cauldron that year. It was a bar, though it served food and non alcoholic drinks as well. Draco was the only other child there. The rest were adults, but they were people Harry liked except one whom Harry didn’t know. He was pleased to meet him when he found whom he was.

His name was Remus Lupin. He had been one of his father’s best friends. From the way he and Mr. Snape looked at each other; Harry knew they hadn’t liked each other either. Hagrid who was also there got along with him, so did Mrs. McGonagall, Mr. Flitwick and Mrs. Sprout. Harry was glad for Draco’s presence. The adults were soon talking boring talk as they usually did, while Mr. Lupin and Mr. Snape glared daggers at each other.

Draco’s bragging wasn’t any better, but Harry could bare it. Draco was telling Harry everything he had missed at the birthday party. He told him all about his gifts, which were apparently all very expensive.

“All my friends are so jealous I met Harry Potter.” Draco continued. “They wanted to know if it was true if you had the scar. They wanted to know if you remembered anything from that night.”

“What night?” Harry asked.

“Oh you know, the night your parents died in the car crash but you survived,” Draco said, but the way he said it, Harry was sure it wasn’t what he had meant.

“Draco, this isn’t the best topic for Harry’s birthday,” Mr. Snape said a very sharp voice that Harry had only heard him use on students. “Talk about something else, now.”

Draco shrugged, “Sorry sir.”

After they ate, most of the teachers said good-bye. It was only Hagrid, Mr. Lupin and Mrs. McGonagall left. Mr. Snape seemed to flee, calling that he would be back to pick up Draco in a bit. Hagrid accompanied them to Diagon Alley. To get to Diagon Alley, they had to go through the back of the Leaky Cauldron and tap a brick three times. It would then open up to the street. Harry had been there a few times before. Once they were in Diagon Alley, Hagrid called good-bye to Harry and left them to do his shopping.

Mr. Lupin stayed with them right to the ice cream parlour owned by a man named Florean Fortescue. They sat at the table eating ice cream, except Mrs. McGonagall who hadn’t wanted any. Mr. Lupin was asking Harry questions about his life, but Harry didn’t mind. He wanted to know more about his father too, so he asked Mr. Lupin questions as well. Draco grew bored, which Mrs. McGonagall noticed.

“Well we should do something else now, shall we?” She said glancing at Draco who had his arms folded and was scowling.

Mr. Lupin looked surprised. “Well yes, I should actually get going. However, I will see you again Harry. It was nice meeting you.”

He exchanged a couple words with Mrs. McGonagall then he was gone. Mrs. McGonagall asked Draco where he wanted to go to next.

“Quality Quidditch supplies,” He said, “I wanted to look at the new Comet two-sixty. It’s the fastest broomsticks yet you know.”

Harry wanted to go as well. Once they were inside the store, Draco pulled Harry straight over to the new Comet-two sixty. He stared at it with such a longing. Harry wanted to look at the other stuff in the shop as well. There were banners for different British Quidditch teams along with the team uniforms. He looked at the Snitches that were packaged in small boxes. The Bludgers that were packaged were vibrating in their packages.

The visited the Magical Creature shop afterward. Harry really wanted an Owl for his own, or perhaps even a cat. He could use the school owls to send letters any time he wanted after all. He petted a large fluffy orange cat with a squashed face fondly. Draco seemed interested in some of the snakes that were there. Harry walked over to a two headed snake and peered in at it. It turned slowly to look at him with both heads.

“I’ve never seen a snake with two heads before,” he murmured to no one in particular.

“We are very rare,” a voice said from the glass tank as one of the snakes mouths opened and its tongue stuck out.

Startled Harry looked around to see if Draco was playing a trick on him, but he was now looking at some poisonous orange snails and smirking. Mrs. McGonagall was petting a white fluffy cat in a cage. Harry looked back at the snake with two heads. He couldn’t have spoken to them. He knew there were people who could talk to snakes, but they were rare. Harry also knew they were not good people. He wasn’t bad, was he?

“Can you understand me?” he whispered to the snake.

Both heads nodded. Startled, Harry backed away. He wasn’t feeling happy anymore. There was something about himself that everyone seemed to know. He had been abused by his aunt and uncle when he had lived with them. Now it seemed he could talk to snakes which was dark magic. No matter how many times the teachers told him that he wasn’t bad, he couldn’t believe them anymore. It was all too much of a coincidence.

Harry walked over to Mrs. McGonagall.

“I want to go back to Hogwarts,” he told her, “I need to talk to Mr. Snape or Mr. Dumbledore.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” she asked looking straight into his eyes. “Surely whatever you need to tell them, I could hear too?”

Harry stared at her for a moment; he looked over to where Draco was still examining the orange snails.

“All right, but I don’t want him to hear,” Harry said pointing over his shoulder at Draco, “and I still want to talk to Mr. Dumbledore too.”

“All right, Harry,” she said, “I’ll tell Mr. Snape to come get Draco, then we’ll go back to Hogwarts.”

Minerva watched as Harry fidgeted in his seat. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with him but he had been acting strange since they had visited the magical creature shop. They had met with Mr. Snape in the Leaky Cauldron so he could take Draco home. Draco had seemed glad to be going home. He had muttered something about the birthday outing not being very fun. She really hoped Harry wouldn’t choose him for a friend. The boy reminded her too much of his father.

They were now sitting in her office. Harry had a troubled expression on his face. Albus was sitting in the chair beside him. He had asked Harry what was wrong, but Harry hadn’t answered at first. Now he looked up at Albus.

“I can talk to snakes,” he said. “That’s bad isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s bad, but it’s rare,” Albus answered. “How did you find this out?”

“I was talking to a two-headed snake at that magical creature shop. I know that Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes . . . and some of the books I’ve read say it’s dark magic. I am a bad wizard, aren’t I? That’s why my aunt and uncle hurt me and that’s why you won’t tell me why I am famous. Everyone knows it, don’t they? You knew I could talk to snakes, didn’t you?” Harry said, now very angrily.

“Harry, mind your tone,” Minerva told him, but she felt angry with the Headmaster as well. Why couldn’t he just tell Harry the truth?

“Harry, since you are worried that you could be a dark wizard proves you are not,” Albus said gently. “There are wizards who could speak parseltongue, which is what it’s called when someone can speak to snakes,” Harry nodded showing he already knew that, “and perhaps they had been dark wizards. However, having the ability to speak the language does not make you a bad wizard. You will choose your path. Your abilities don’t.”

“But sir, everyone knows I can. That’s why I am famous isn’t it? My parents could as well. It’s very rare for people to speak it,” Harry protested.

“The only people who know you can speak to snakes are in this room. I doubt very much that your parents could speak to snakes and I assure you that’s not why you are famous. I promise you that I will tell you soon why you are famous. I do not want to tell you today. You are not a bad wizard, and no one thinks you are,” Albus answered.

Minerva knew he didn’t want to tell Harry that his parents were murdered on his birthday. She could agree with that but they did have to tell him soon. Harry had his fists clenched in frustration as he looked at one to the other. She knew Snape was right, Harry was growing up and he would understand more then they thought he would. She still liked to think of him as the five-year-old he had once been, but he wasn’t.

“We’ve told you that it’s not your fault that your aunt and uncle hurt you,” Minerva answered him. “Our answer to that will never change.”

Harry nodded, but he was still glaring into his lap with frustration. It had to be hard to know everyone knew something about him but he didn’t know. She knew she would feel the same he did. She looked at him wondering how she could cheer him up.

“Harry, how would you like some birthday cake and pumpkin juice?” She asked.

Harry looked up at her and a grin spread across his face. “Yes thank you!” He said excitedly.

It was the beginning of a new school year. Harry was pleased to see all the students back again. It could be boring in the castle without anyone but the teachers to talk to. The new students had just been sorted into their houses. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table and saw that two identical red head boys had been added to Gryffindor house. He knew they were the twin’s that Bill had mentioned to him. He was a lot more interested in the first years that year. Most of them were only two years older then he was; they didn’t look so much older anymore.

He glanced down the teacher’s table to see who was the new Defense Against the Dark Art’s teacher and noticed it was an elderly witch. She reminded him of Mrs. McGonagall, she wore glasses and looked stern. Mrs. McGonagall always wore her black hair up whereas this witch had white hair and wore it down.

He was surprised to see a witch sitting where the Muggle Studies teacher Mr. Quirrell usually sat. He was used to seeing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher but most of the other teachers stayed every year. He remembered Mr. Quirrell had started during his first ever Welcome Feast.

“Mr. Snape? Who is that women? Where is Mr. Quirrell?” Harry asked prodding Mr. Snape’s arm.

“That is Mrs. Burbage, the new Muggle Studies professor. Professor Quirrell has taken a year off of teaching,” Mr. Snape answered, “he’ll be back. I believe he has applied to be the Defense Against the Dark Art’s teacher for next year.”

“But then, what will he do after? Don’t the Defense teachers stay only a year?” Harry asked. “Why does Mr. Dumbledore only let them teach a year anyway?”

“They say the job is jinxed. No Defense teacher has lasted a year in a long time. In fact, it was that way when I was a boy here,” Snape answered.

Harry looked down at his plate with a smile on his face. It was hard to imagine Mr. Snape as a boy at school. He wondered if Mr. Snape noticed, he told him to just eat his dinner and mind his own business. He knew Mrs. McGonagall was glaring at Snape over his head. She never liked it when he said things like that to him. She had gotten angry when she found out he called Harry a nuisance. Harry didn’t mind, he knew Mr. Snape wasn’t serious.

“What has he gone a trip for?” Harry asked after some moments of silence.

“He was studying out of books about dark creatures when he wasn’t teaching. He went to get some first hand experience,” Mrs. McGonagall answered. “He is going to share his experience with his classes when he comes back.”

“Other then Trolls?” Harry asked, Mr. Quirrell had told him years ago that he had a knack with them. He knew exactly how to handle them.

“There isn’t much to know about Trolls,” he heard Mr. Snape mutter.

“I think he wanted to learn more about Vampires,” Mrs. McGonagall answered. “he told me back in his sixth year here that he wanted to meet one.”

Harry jolted at that, accidentally knocking over his goblet of pumpkin juice, “Vampires? What would he want to meet a vampire for? That’s almost the same as wanting to meet a werewolf isn’t it? I would never want to be near vampires or werewolves. That book that Mrs. Sprout gave me about Half-Breed’s in the wizarding world tells me all about them.”

“Ahem!”

Harry looked over at Mr. Snape who was staring down at his plate with a smirk on his face. He glanced at Mrs. McGonagall who was staring at Mr. Snape sternly. He let out a sigh as he refilled his goblet with pumpkin juice. He knew they were hiding something else from him. The look she wore on her face was telling Mr. Snape not to say anything. He had seen that look far too many times. He glanced at Mr. Dumbledore who was happily eating a potato. Would he tell him the truth about everything soon?

Severus looked over the essays he had assigned the third year students about Shrinking Solutions. It irritated him to no end when the summer essays were rushed. He never understood, even as a student why people had such low marks on summer essays. The students had months to get them completed properly, but they never did. He hadn’t been a student who studied a lot himself, but he had tried to make an effort. It was something he thought he should teach Harry.

He glanced at his watch. The little Weasley twins had detention with him in an hour. They had only been at Hogwarts a week and they had been punished by half a dozen teachers. They had irritated him all their first class by pretending to be the twin they weren’t. When he had taken role call he had decided to watch which one answered so he could tell the difference between them. Later when he went over to inspect their potion’s in the middle of class; he had asked Fred Weasley who was really George Weasley what kind of potion he thought he was making.

“I’m not Fred. I’m George,” the red headed monster had answered.

Most of his first years were scared of him during their first meeting, but not the twins. When he decided just to call them by their last names they got smart with him. He took points from Gryffindor then checked their potions later at the end of class. They tried pulling the trick again. He decided from then on that he would just call them by their last names. He’d heard about their pranks from other teachers and had laughed at some of the stories. They were a lot different from their brother Percy, who was one of those students who acted like a know-it-all.

He hoped their work would at least be acceptable. He looked back down at the essay he had been marking and wished he could chuck it. It had been written by one of his Slytherin students. It was full of spelling errors and she hadn’t even answered the question correctly.

“Oh, Mr. Snape!”

His office door opened and Harry stepped in grinning at him. It was the first time he felt relieved to be distracted by Harry while marking a student’s work. Harry walked to his usual chair in front of the desk and sat down.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Marking Third Year essays. You won’t be able to stay too long today Harry. Two students have detention with me today,” Snape answered.

“I know,” Harry answered. “The Weasley twin’s. They are funny, aren’t they?”

“If you say so. I’d rather not spend my Saturday afternoon with them,” Severus answered.

“Why not? I was already with them for a bit today. They were looking for Peeves,” Harry said with a shrug. “Though I don’t know why, he is really annoying. He keeps taking my stuff from my room and putting it up too high for me to get. He never used to bother me.”

Severus shook his head, the last thing anyone needed was for Peeves to be in league with the Weasley twins. Their trouble-making reminded him of another pair that had gone to Hogwarts years ago. One of which looked a lot like the little boy sitting in front of him. Harry was fidgeting with the toy snitch Minerva had bought him years ago.

“Mr. Snape?” he said in a small voice.

“Yes?” Severus asked hoping he wasn’t going to ask him about why he was famous again.

“Well I’ve been thinking lately,” Harry said looking down at his lap now. “I-I would like to learn more about Potions and other stuff. I want to be ready when I come to school and you always say you don’t like teaching Dunderheads . . . and well, I don’t want to be a Dunderhead.”

“What other stuff?” Severus asked not really wanting to teach him about all his future classes in the spare time he had.

“Well, you know, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone says you’ve been trying to get the job for a while so you must know stuff right?” Harry said slowly. “I mean, I know you can’t teach me magic since I don’t have a wand, but you can help me right?”

Severus wasn’t too surprised that Harry was asking for him to teach him more. He was surprised Harry hadn’t come to him sooner. He knew Harry had been reading books from the library that Madam Pince had allowed him to read. He’d also asked Sprout about the different plants she had in the Green Houses. Harry had found it funny that she taught the classes about plants when her last name was Sprout.

“What exactly do you want to know?” Severus asked, “I don’t have a lot of free time during the school year.”

“I know you don’t, so when you can. Mrs. McGonagall gave me a first year book about Transfiguration. She told me I could learn the theory and ask her questions. She told me what you told me too,” Harry answered. “You’re always complaining about the way student’s make their potions and I also want someone to show me defensive spells too. Then when I’m eleven I can practice them.”

Severus had to laugh. Harry scowled at him. “What have you been doing? Pestering all the teachers so you’ll have a head start in their classes? You want to be ahead of the students?”

Harry shook his head still glaring at him, “No, but I just want to know how to do this stuff. I hear the big kids complaining about how hard Potions and Transfiguration is all the time. You get angry if a student makes a potion wrong. Anyway, I always see people doing magic. What is wrong with that?”

Severus didn’t answer, he didn’t know why, but it felt good to have the boy look up to him so much. He hadn’t had anyone respect him as much as Harry did. Lily hadn’t even had that much respect for him when he had told her all about the wizarding world and she’d had a lot. Harry was almost looking up to him as a father figure, which was ironic considering who his father was.

“All right, I’ll see what I can do. But Harry, you have to listen to everything I tell you when I do show you. When you are making a potion, it has to be precise and followed correctly. When you know more about a potion, only then you should experiment,” Severus answered. “As for Defensive spells, I hope you aren’t planning on going around Hogwarts and hexing people for the fun of it.”

Harry had looked excited for a moment when Severus agreed but he was glaring at him again. “Why would I hex people for the fun of it? That’s not very nice. I want to have friends’ thanks.”

Severus didn’t know what to say to that. He instead shooed Harry from the office. After he left, Severus sat back in his chair wondering just what kind of student Potter junior would be.

They were ahead of him peering down at a piece of parchment in their hands and whispering excitedly. Harry crept up behind them slowly; he wanted to keep as quiet as possible. One of the twins looked up and around, but not seeing anyone, he looked back down at the piece of parchment. Harry put a hand over his mouth grinning. He was thankful for the Invisibility Cloak, no one could see him. He knew he would pull a great prank on them. They had already gotten him a few times in the month they had been at Hogwarts.

He quietly stopped beside one of the twin’s and glanced down at the piece of parchment they had in their hands. He kept his hand over his mouth and nose so they didn’t hear him. It was blank for a moment, then one of the twins muttered:

“I solemnly swear that I am up too no good.”

Lines began spreading over the parchment. They connected together. There were lines coming from the corners of the parchment. Words appeared at the top of the parchment that said:

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDERS MAP

Harry almost gasped as he read over the name Prongs. He knew that his dad’s name had been Prongs at Hogwarts. Forgetting that he was pulling a prank on the twins, he demanded:

“Where did you get that?”

Both boys jumped a foot on the air and looked over at where Harry was standing looking nervous and confused, and then they glanced down at the parchment again. Smirking slightly, he pulled the Invisibilty Cloak off of his head.

“Blimey Harry, you trying to give us a heart attack?” One of them, he thought might be Fred asked.

“Well that was the plan,” Harry said smiling but then looking at the parchment again, “But then I saw . . . where did you get that?”

George shifted uneasily and glanced at Fred who gave him the same look. They were definitely hiding something. He was used to that with the teachers who were always trying to hide stuff from him.

“It’s just that my dad’s nick name was Prongs at school,” Harry added. “So I just wondered.”

He saw the twins exchange looks again before looking at Harry. They glanced uneasily at the map.

“I suppose we could tell him, don’t you think George?” Fred said.

“He has acted trustworthy in the past,” George added.

“He did lie to Filch for us when we were hiding in the broom closet.”

Harry sighed; it annoyed him when they did that. They looked around the corridor then back at Harry and beckoned him to move closer. Harry did also looking around; he knew there was a doorway that looked like a wall right near them. It was a spot Filch liked to hide from unsuspecting students. The twins saw where he was looking, they must have known about it too.

“No one is there,” Fred said and then pointed at the parchment.

Harry took a better look at it and saw that it appeared to be a map of the school. There were dots moving through the map lines. He saw that the three of them were up on the seventh floor huddled together.

“Oh brilliant!” Harry said staring at the map.

He saw that Mr. Snape was talking to Mr. Dumbledore and Mrs. McGonagall in Mr. Dumbledore’s office. Percy Weasley was in the Entrance Hall talking to Oliver Wood, a boy who was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It was amazing how the map could tell them exactly what everyone was doing.

“Where did you get it?” Harry repeated.

“We got it from Filches office. You know how he has all those cabinets full of confiscated stuff?” Fred said with a smile.

“Well, I decided to distract him by dropping a dung bomb and Fred pulled this out.” George continued.

“Why were you in his office in the first place?” Harry asked with a grin guessing they had likely been dropping dung bombs which Fred confirmed moments later.

“You reckon this was your dad’s?” George asked looking down at the map again.

Harry shrugged, “I know his nickname was Prongs, but I don’t know anything about his friend’s names except one. He didn’t really seem the type to be a trouble-maker at school though.” He remembered Remus Lupin’s tired serious face.

“You don’t mind if we keep this then?” Fred asked. “It could be useful for us.”

Harry laughed. “I bet. And I have my Invisibility Cloak. You know, sometime if you want we could use it.”

He hoped they would say yes. It would be fun to do stuff with the older boys. They just had to be careful; he had decided to tell Mrs. McGonagall about the Cloak. She hadn’t taken it away from him but she had told him that he’d better not hide from her with it. He had only used it to go back to the room of hidden things to find more treasures. He wasn’t sure if he should tell the twins about it. They had decided he was trustworthy enough to tell him they had stolen from Filch, so he might.

Harry never told on the students though. He had seen them breaking the rules many times since he had come to Hogwarts. When he had been five, they had asked him to keep quiet and after awhile it became a habit to let them get away with it. The teachers liked to keep stuff from him after all.

“It could be useful,” George said with a nod. “Where did you get that anyway? Those are rare.”

“My dad. Mr. Dumbledore had it before he died; he gave it to me for my ninth birthday,” Harry explained. “We just have to be careful. I don’t want it taken away.”

Fred smiled at the map again. “It seems as if your dad snuck around here too. Who were the other Marauders then?” Harry shrugged. “It is really a shame what happened to him. Mum used to tell us stories about that night. My little sister thinks you’re brilliant-”

George was shaking his head as Fred talked so that he paused in mid-sentence. Harry was staring at both of them now as they exchanged looks again. Fred looked guiltily at Harry. Harry glared at them.

“That’s it,” Harry said. “For some reason I am famous and no one is telling me. What night are you talking about? The night they died?” The twins looked at each other, then Fred opened his mouth to speak but Harry cut across him with something that had been bothering him a while. “I was told they died in a car crash. Whenever I tell the big kids that, they look at each other the way you two are now.”

“Harry. We aren’t the ones to tell you anything,” Fred said. “We’re not allowed to. There was a big announcement about it at the beginning of the school year.”

“Know what else is strange?” Harry asked ignoring Fred. “Witches and Wizards really don’t drive cars that much. They can apparate, or use floo. Mr. Snape once said something about a Port-key.”

When Harry saw that they weren’t going to answer him, he sighed and looked down at the map. He saw that the three teachers were still in Mr. Dumbledore’s office. Harry turned from the twins, and ran toward Mr. Dumbledore’s office. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. He had been wondering for a while if his parents had really died in a car crash. The older kids were always stopping themselves from revealing something about the night his parents had died. Draco Malfoy had been giving strange hints about it since they met. There was something that didn’t add up.

“I just don’t think getting him a wand this early is a good idea,” Minerva said. “We’ve always said we didn’t want to spoil him. He can wait two more years.”

“Minerva, Potter is spoiled. It’s very rare that any of us say no to his wants,” Severus said.

Minerva was feeling very aggravated with Snape. He shouldn’t have promised Harry that he would teach him yet. She wanted him to know his subjects as well. It was the reason she had given him the book they would use for first and second year Transfiguration classes. He could at least learn what they would be doing in class so he’d be prepared. Snape was talking about teaching him actual defensive spells while he wasn’t even a student at the school. She wanted him to be treated as a normal boy, which was why she would not give him the broomstick he wanted.

“There are fake wands,” Albus said slowly. “Often parents get them to teach their children wand movements.”

“Well yes, I don’t have a problem with that. Harry has plenty of fake wands,” Minerva answered.

“Except that they turn into rubbish,” Severus argued. “I am talking about a wand that stays a wand. He can’t learn much from a wand that turns into a cat.”

Minerva was about to tell him he had a normal fake wand when the door burst open. Harry rushed in breathing hard as if he had run a long way. He was clutching his Invisibility Cloak, she wondered if he had seen the students doing something they shouldn’t have, or if someone was hurt. She was annoyed with Albus for giving it to him already; she didn’t know if he was mature enough for it yet. She let him keep it though, she had decided since he had told her he had it, she would let him prove himself.

“Can you please tell me why I am famous? What happened the night my parents died? Please Mr. Dumbledore, I am old enough to hear now. If people younger then me and people my age knows, then I should too. All the students know,” Harry said ignoring Minerva and Severus, “I need to know what happened.”

Minerva looked at Dumbledore. He was sitting at his desk, he’d been listening to her and Severus argue about Harry starting lessons’ early. He had, to her annoyance agreed that Severus could teach him basic Potion’s and basic Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was his guardian so she should have a say in the matter. Not that she minded him getting an earlier start; she just didn’t think he should be doing magic yet. He was now surveying Harry who was staring at him without blinking.

“All right Harry, it is time you know the truth. Please do not interrupt with questions. Why don’t you sit down?”

Harry nodded and sat in one of the chairs facing the Headmasters desk. Severus asked if he could be excused, he left quickly when Albus said yes. Minerva wanted to stay with Harry during the conversation so she sat in the other chair beside Harry. She wasn’t sure how he would react to hearing about his parents being murdered when he believed they had only died in a car crash.

“I am sure you have heard of the wizard Lord Voldemort?” Albus questioned causing Minerva to flinch.

She didn’t know why he insisted on using the name. Whenever she heard it, she thought about him being back to power. She didn’t like to remember those days. She wondered if that was why Severus had decided to leave. He had been one of Lord Voldemort’s follower’s until he switched sides for some reason. She had always wondered what he had told Albus to gain his trust. She had been cautious around him until Harry arrived. If he couldn’t be trusted, he wouldn’t care as much about Harry Potter as he did.

Harry nodded; he had looked at her with a surprised look on his face when she jumped. “I’ve heard about him. Everybody tells me to call him You-Know-Who though.”

“Call him Lord Voldemort Harry. There is nothing to fear from a name,” Albus answered. “You’ve also heard of the prejudice against Muggleborns. I am sure?” Harry nodded again.

Albus then began explaining to Harry how Lord Voldemort had started to gather followers to help him get rid of Muggles and Muggleborns. He explained how he had wanted to take over the wizarding world with just the rightful wizards, those with blood purity. Anyone who had stood up to him was killed.

“Your aunt and uncle told you that your parents died in a car accident. We allowed you to believe that until now. Lord Voldemort went to your parents place Halloween night and killed your mum and dad,” Minerva heard Harry gasp, “he tried to kill you next but he couldn’t. When he tried, his own curse rebounded on him and weakened him.”

Harry reached up and touched the scar on his forehead.

“Yes, that scar came from the curse he used on you.”

“So why am I famous then?” Harry asked. “You said he killed other people too. Is it because it didn’t kill me?”

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named disappeared that night his curse weakened him Harry,” Minerva answered. “The days he was taking over were scary. No one knew who to trust anymore. It was a relief to everybody when he was gone. You are the only known person to survive that curse.”

It was hard to read the expression on his face. She couldn’t tell if he was upset or just shocked by the news. He was still rubbing the scar on his forehead. He seemed to be in deep thought. Albus was watching him as well with what she thought was a sad expression on his face. It was rare for Albus who was usually a cheery wizard. No one liked to tell a young child that their parents had been murdered.

“Sometimes, I do remember a green light,” Harry said taking his hand from his scar. “Sometimes a laugh too. I really don’t want to be famous for someone trying to kill me but couldn’t. I mean, I’m glad he is gone but I wish I had my parents.”

“I know,” Minerva said soothingly and touching his shoulder gently. “Your mum and dad were great people. Anyone who remembers them only has good things to say about them. I taught them myself.”

“I wondered for a while,” Harry went on, “I mean, witches and wizards don’t drive cars right? Then whenever I told people how they had died, they looked like they didn’t believe me.”

“Some drive cars.” Albus answered. “The Ministry of Magic has cars. I have never driven one myself.”

Minerva grinned in spite of herself trying to imagine Albus Dumbledore wearing sunglasses and driving a car. She had never driven one herself; she had believed they would be time consuming. She glanced at Harry and saw he wore a small smile himself and wondered if he was imagining what she was.

“So where is he now?” Harry asked, “You said he was weakened when the curse hit him. He didn’t die then?”

“No one is sure where he went but there are rumors,” Albus answered. “Some believe he died, but I don’t think so.”

“But what if he gets better? He could come back couldn’t he?” Harry asked.

“He could yes. I do not want you to worry about that Harry.”

They talked a little longer before Harry was satisfied but still looked trouble. Later that night, Minerva entered Harry’s room to see him sitting on one of his chairs in his pajamas. He was silently waving a fake wand that turned into a duck. The only sounds that were made were when the duck quacked. Minerva sat in the rocking chair and looked at Harry.

“How are you doing Harry?” She asked.

“I’m all right,” He said, “Did my aunt and uncle know how my mum and dad died?”

“They did yes. I hope you don’t think that it’s your fault Harry,” Minerva said. “Your aunt said at the hearing she didn’t blame you for what happened.”

“She just didn’t like magic. I think she was jealous because her sister was a witch and she wasn’t,” Harry said with a nod. “Why did he have to go after my parents? Why did he care about blood purity? I’ve met a lot of Muggleborns here and I don’t see the difference. I’ve been told my mum was a very powerful witch too. I am glad he is gone and I hope he never gets strong again.”

“A lot of us hope that,” Minerva said, “Would you like me to read you a story tonight?” she added holding out her arms.

It had been over a year since Harry had last sat on her lap while she read to him. After he had started talking to the older students more, he had started to act as if he was too grown up. He still liked to hear bed time stories, though lately he wanted to hear ones for older witches and wizards. He told her that Draco Malfoy had told him Fairy Tales were for babies. She had therefore started looking for books that fitted his age group. She was currently reading one about a wizard who had trouble with his classes at school. It was a chapter book that Harry really enjoyed.

Harry seemed eager that night to forget that he was too old to be held in her lap. He walked over to her quickly and climbed on her lap. He was a lot heavier since the last time she had held him. She wanted to enjoy this with him while she still could. Once he was a student at Hogwarts he might even be too embarrassed to show his teachers any affection.

As she read to him, he stared ahead with his eyes drooping slightly, but he didn’t fall asleep. When she had finished the chapter, she hugged him. He looked up at her and hugged her back. He looked as if he was trying to hold tears back.

“If I had a mummy still she would be doing this with me right?” he asked sounding five again.

“She would be yes. I imagine you mother and father both rocked you to sleep,” Minerva answered. “And Harry, I know it’s not the same but I am willing to do for you what a mother normally would.”

“I know,” Harry said. “You’ve done stuff that I always saw Aunt Petunia doing with Dudley. I always wished she would with me.”

“Well you have a staff full of teachers who are happy to treat you as if you were their own son,” Minerva answered.

She had in fact been thinking of him as the son she never had since she’d won custody of him. She was proud to raise him as her own and not because he was Harry Potter. She was proud because he was such a good child. He surprised her that day. She wasn’t sure what she expected when they told him the truth, but she hadn’t expected him to take it calmly the way he did. She had to wonder if Severus was right that they all underestimated him.

She could see the truth bothered him but he didn’t appear angry or depressed. He was still hugging her and staring at one of the Gryffindor Banner’s on the wall. He had a determined look on his face as he stared at it. When he saw that she was watching him, he stopped hugging her and sat up.

“If Voldemort comes back, I want to fight him if I am big enough, and Mrs. McGonagall, Mr. Dumbledore said not to be scared of the name you know,” he added staring at her. She had jumped when he said the name.

“Now, what I am going to teach you is the Shield Charm today,” Mr. Snape told Harry as he sat in a desk in an unused classroom. “It is very useful to know for minor hexes. It would not protect you against the more powerful curses out there, but in time I’ll teach you more about them.”

Harry was glad they were finally doing lessons. It was the Christmas holidays so Mr. Snape had a lot more time on his hands. There were some weekends when Mr. Snape had told Harry about different ingredients used in Potions, but he hadn’t made one yet. Harry had hoped he could actually do the magic but he had to use a fake wand to practice the movements.

“Come stand in front of me, Harry,” Mr. Snape said now.

Harry got up from his chair and stood in the spot that Mr. Snape told him to. Mr Snape raised his wand and shouted:

“PROTEGO!”

Harry was knocked backwards by an invisible force. He sat staring up at Mr. Snape with bemusement. He could have at least warned him that this was what would happen. Harry got up and brushed himself off, still glaring at Mr. Snape.

“Now, come over to me,” Mr. Snape said.

Harry walked over to him wondering what was going to happen now but found he couldn’t. The invisible force was still there. Snape told him to keep trying, but no matter how hard Harry pushed, he couldn’t get through it. Suddenly as Harry was pushing, Mr. Snape raised his wand and said:

“Finite.”

Harry was down on the ground again, this time on his hands and knees. He stood up again wondering if Mr. Snape was using these lessons just to torture him. He had a small smirk on his face as Harry glanced up at him.

“You’ll notice that you couldn’t penetrate the space between us at all,” he said casually.

“Yes,” Harry said feeling irritated. “but I thought it was supposed to stop hexes.”

“It deflects minor curses or hexes as I said. I was merely showing you how strong an energy barrier it can be. It was strong enough to push you back from me. Now, if you tried to petrify me for example, the curse would bounce off back to you, or in another direction,” Mr. Snape explained. “It is very useful when you are in a duel. There are many witches and wizards who have difficult with a simple shield charm.”

“And you are showing me this so I won’t?” Harry asked.

“Well, I hope you won’t. That’s why I told you that you need to pay attention to everything I tell you,” Mr. Snape answered. “When you are a student here, you’ll learn that it isn’t as simple as saying the words to use a spell. It takes a great deal of concentration. When you are older, you’ll also learn how to use spells nonverbally which in a duel is very useful. Can you spot why?”

Harry thought for a moment wanting to please Mr. Snape with his answer. “Because the other person won’t know what you are going to use,” Harry finally said after a few moments of thought, “but that will be harder for you too, wouldn’t it? I mean, you couldn’t just keep using a Shield Charm if they used a stronger curse.”

“You’ll learn over time more ways to avoid hexes and curses. You are correct. It does have its advantages and disadvantages. I find nonverbal spells to be more of an advantage in a duel either way,” Mr. Snape said looking very pleased with Harry.

He then handed Harry his wand, Harry looked up at him in surprise. He thought he wasn’t going to be doing any magic. He knew Mrs. McGonagall didn’t want him to be using a real wand yet.

“I want you to try and use the Shield Charm on me now,” he said.

Enthusiastically, Harry pointed the wand at Mr. Snape and yelled: “PROTEGO!”

Nothing happened; at least Mr. Snape wasn’t knocked over as Harry had been. Harry reasoned that Mr. Snape was much more powerful then Harry was. Mr. Snape however reached right through the space between them easily to take his wand back. Harry felt disappointed that the charm hadn’t worked.

“Do you see what I mean when I say it isn’t as easy as saying the words?” Mr. Snape asked, “It takes a lot of concentration.”

“But maybe it was because I was using your wand and not my own,” Harry answered, “I’ve done magic before accidentally. I sometimes make things break when I am angry.”

“You do not know how to control accidental magic yet. However, I would like to know what you know about wands,” Mr. Snape answered, he looked pleased again for some reason.

“I don’t know much. I know that they can have unicorn tail furs in them,” Harry answered thinking about what the students had told him about their wands.

“Hmm, well you are correct in a way Harry. You’ll find that you won’t do as well with another wizard’s wand as you will with your own. However, you can when you learn to do spells,” Mr. Snape said. “Now, I want you to pick up your wand and practice with me. The key is concentration.” Harry opened his mouth to ask what the point of concentrating was. He wouldn’t do magic with a fake wand after all. “It is important for you to learn concentration now even if you can’t cast the spell. When you finally do have your own wand, you’ll find it easier to cast the spell. Put all your energy into it Harry.”

They practised wand movements together for the rest of the lesson. Mr. Snape stopped Harry to correct the position of his arm once and a while. When they were finished for the day, Mr. Snape gave Harry a pat on the head. It was something he didn’t often do.

“Well done. You are nine-years-old and you can listen better then some of my Seventh year students. Be sure to keep it up when you are a student at this school. Listening is a key to success.”

Harry grinned up at him. He wanted to prove himself to all of the teachers, mostly Mrs. McGonagall. He wanted her to see he was a lot more capable then she believed. Perhaps she would let him get a wand for his tenth birthday instead of his eleventh.

Months ago, Harry had decided this Voldemort wizard was a bit of a joke. If he could lose all his powers from a baby, Harry, to be exact then he couldn’t have been that powerful. Draco Malfoy seemed to praise his work though; this was another reason for him to dislike the boy. Harry had read several books about Lord Voldemort since he had learned the truth about himself and learned exactly why a lot of witches and wizards seemed to fear even the name. He had done a lot of evil when he had been rising to power.

Draco Malfoy was a bit of joke as well, Harry had learned. He would sit and talk about Lord Voldemort as if he was a great wizard but if Harry mentioned the name, he would jump. He seemed to fear Lord Voldemort as much as he admired him. Harry came to the conclusion that Draco just voiced what his father often said but didn’t really know what he was talking about. Harry had heard that Mr. Malfoy had been a follower of Voldemorts. Therefore, he didn’t like him. It made sense to him now why Mrs. McGonagall didn’t want Harry around the Malfoys.

Draco Malfoy could be a lot of fun as well, so Harry had mixed feelings about the boy. He was learning a lot more about flying from Draco then he had from Madam Hooch when he visited Draco. Madam Hooch wouldn’t let Harry do tricks on his broom, at the Malfoy’s he could do whatever he wanted. Draco had told him that diving was very hard, but Harry had found it very easy. In fact, at times he seemed resentful when Harry appeared to fly better then he could.

He was visiting the Malfoy’s again, but Draco wasn’t the only one there his age that day. There were also two large boys who put him in mind of Dudley. Harry learned quickly that day that they weren’t very smart boys either. Their names were Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Draco told Harry just to call them by their last names. They were in the backyard again by the Quidditch Pitch. Mr. Snape, Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle were on the deck. It was a very warm April afternoon.

“They aren’t smart but they come in useful,” Draco told Harry, “that is when they aren’t eating.”

“Wish they would stop staring at me,” Harry said glaring over his shoulder where they were both openly pointing at him and whispering together. “Most people at school don’t point.”

“Crabbe, Goyle I think there is some cake on the deck, you should go check!” Draco yelled at them.

Harry felt grateful. It worked. They were both heading for the deck very quickly. They watched them for a few moments before looking at each other and laughing.

“Father told me Snape is teaching you Defense lessons,” Draco said quietly, “What can you do now?”

“Can’t do much. I have to use a fake wand for wand movements. He has been teaching me since Christmas break. He has told me about the Shield Charm, he told me about Disarming, and he has shown me some hexes too.” Harry answered.

“Really?” Draco asked excitedly. “What exactly? Can you stun people? Are they powerful?”

Harry shook his head not surprised by Draco’s eagerness, “No, just how to freeze people. He put one on me where I couldn’t stop dancing. He said he isn’t going to teach me anything past my age level. He said he will teach me about duelling because there is more to it then just throwing curses at each other.”

Draco looked mildly impressed, “Well, I guess that’s better then nothing. Father has told me that as well. Snape and my father have duelled in front of me just to show me. It does look hard, they both move so fast. I wish I could get lessons. Father won’t show me until I can do magic. He said the summer before I start school he can teach me basics.”

“Mr. Snape seems to know your dad well,” Harry commented wondering if they had been at school together as well.

He looked up to where the adults were. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting in chairs and eating the cake. Mr. Snape was watching Harry and Draco. Harry hoped it was all right that he was telling Draco what he was learning. He didn’t want the lessons to be stopped. He enjoyed them along with the Potion’s lessons. He still wasn’t letting Harry make a potion himself, but Mr. Snape let Harry watch him make potions. He would explain to him exactly what he was putting in it and why.

“Yes well they went to school together didn’t they? I think my father was in his fifth year when Snape started at school. They were in Slytherin house together,” Draco answered, “I bet you still want to be a Gryffindor,” Draco added with a slight sneer.

Harry glared at him, “Yeah I do. So what? My parents were in Gryffindor. Mrs. McGonagall was in Gryffindor and so was Mr. Dumbledore.”

Draco let out a groan, “Don’t tell me you are going to be a goody-two shoe just because you grew up at Hogwarts. If you don’t watch it Potter, you’ll end up in Hufflepuff.”

“So what if I am in Hufflepuff? All the houses are worthy enough. I’d rather be Gryffindor but if I’m in one of the other three I don’t care either way,” Harry snapped.

He did care. He believed what he said about all the houses being worthy, but he wanted to be a Gryffindor. He wanted to be where his parents had been. It was very important. He also didn’t want to be a Hufflepuff because of Sam Audrick. He knew that Harry was told the truth about his past. Now the boy was back to bothering him again. This time it was about the lesson’s he was learning with Snape. He didn’t even know how he had found out since it was supposed to be kept secret. Both Mrs. McGonagall and Mr. Snape had decided it was better to keep it from the students.

“I’ve heard Hufflepuffs are goody-two shoe pushovers,” Draco said with a shrug.

“They aren’t. There are people like that in every house. And I won’t be some goody-two shoe either. The Weasley twins have taught me enough, so there!” Harry said feeling his dislike for Draco again.

“You still talk to the Weasley’s? You don’t care they are poor?” Draco asked, he looked pleased that he was riling Harry up.

“No, I don’t! I am going to meet their brother who is our age this summer,” Harry snapped. “Their mother wrote me and Mrs. McGonagall a letter inviting me.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t care about people being poor though. Look at you being raised by the teachers and those Muggles. I bet you know even have a knut in your name,” Draco sneered, “You have no parents after all.”

Harry felt so angry at Draco that he couldn’t help what happened next. Draco often liked to rile Harry up, but Harry usually got over it. This time it made him feel furious. He didn’t like anyone insulting the teachers or bothering him about having no parents. There was a loud bang and the next moment Draco had fallen over and was moaning in agony. He had erupted in boils. Harry ran over to him and kneeled beside him, wondering what he had done. He hadn’t tried to hurt him, he felt terrible even if Draco had deserved it.

Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy was running over followed by Mr. Snape. Crabbe and Goyle also followed in his wake, still eating cake. Mrs. Malfoy was very upset. She kneeled beside Draco as well. She started cooing to him in a voice that reminded Harry of the one his Aunt Petunia had used on Dudley. Draco appeared embarrassed though.

“I’m fine mum.” he said though he was still wincing.

“What did you do?” she snapped at Harry, “You are a guest here, why would you do that?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry told her, “I don’t even know what I did. I just felt angry and it happened.”

“It’s all right,” Mr. Malfoy said. “I’ve got a potion inside that will cure this. They are just boils.”

Mr. Snape took Harry by the arm and pulled him to a standing position. He led him away, Harry thought that he was going to get scolded. However, when they were far enough away from the others, Snape stopped and looked down at him.

“What did he say to you?” Mr. Snape asked.

Harry hesitated; he didn’t like to tell on other people. seemed to notice Harry’s hesitation. “You aren’t being a rat by telling me, Harry.”

“I told him I was going to see the Weasley’s this summer and he was talking about how poor they are. He said I probably don’t care since I probably don’t have a knut in my name since my parents are dead.” Harry said.

“Well, he’ll be surprised to know that you have a small fortune of your own. Minerva is in charge of it until you can control it yourself. If I’m not mistaken, your parents left you a good sum of money,” Mr. Snape answered, “You shouldn’t take what Draco says literally. I think he is a little intimidated by you. He puts on an act around you. I won’t say he isn’t arrogant, because he is. He is just more so around you.”

Harry nodded, “Okay, but I didn’t even mean to do that. I’ve never done anything like that to a person before you know.”

“You’re an underage wizard who can’t control his powers yet,” Mr. Snape said leading him back to Draco, who was drinking something from a flask. “When your emotions get out of control that sometimes happens. You were angry with Draco so without meaning to, you hurt him. I did that once to someone with a branch when I was around your age. I didn’t mean to, but I made the branch fall and hit their shoulder because I was so angry.”

“Really? Who?” Harry asked now interested.

“I’ll teach you in our lessons to control your emotions as well,” Mr. Snape continued as if he didn’t hear Harry.

“You want to play Quidditch now?” Draco asked Harry, he didn’t seem angry at what Harry had done. “We’ve got Crabbe and Goyle too. They can actually fly believe it or not.”

“Draco, don’t be rude,” Mr. Malfoy said, then looked at Harry, “and let’s try to keep our emotions under control, shall we?”

“Sorry.” Harry muttered; Mr. Malfoy made him feel intimated at times.

“The best wizard can’t control their emotion’s at times,” Mr. Malfoy answered taking his wife by the arm and leading her back to the deck. She still looked upset at what Harry had done. Mr. Snape had followed.

“I really didn’t mean to do that,” Harry told Draco, “but don’t say things about my parents or my friends any more.”

“All right, all right. But I thought I was your friend,” Draco said leading him to the broom shed.

“If you keep saying things like that than I won’t like you,” Harry told him. “I’m not the same as Crabbe and Goyle.”

The two boys never seemed to mind when Draco insulted them, maybe it was why Draco thought he could bully others. Crabbe and Goyle were now laughing openly at Draco. They seemed to think what Harry had done was funny. Draco scowled back at them, they stopped laughing at once.

“Believe me, that’s a good thing. It’s a change,” he said with a shrug, then smiled, “that was a powerful bit of magic Potter. I didn’t know you had it in you. Maybe I have underestimated you.”

He opened up the broom shed and pulled out some Nimbus seventeen hundreds. He handed one to Harry, Crabbe then Goyle. He then smirked as he reached back into the broom shed.

“Introducing,” he began in a commentators voice, “The new Comet Two-Sixty! Ha ha! It is faster then that old Nimbus Potter. I do hope you can keep up.”

Harry felt a little nervous as he got ready to go to the Weasley’s place. He had met most of the Weasley children already, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. It would be nice to meet another person his age. He just wasn’t sure how Ronald Weasley would react to him. According to all the older Weasley children, Ron really wanted to meet him and so did their younger sister Ginny. Ron was very jealous that Harry had spent a lot of the year helping the twins with pranks.

Mrs. McGonagall approved of this visit. Normally she was a little agitated when Mr. Snape took Harry to visit Draco, but she wasn’t that morning. He would be going to the Weasley’s through the Floo Network since he was going on his own. He had been instructed to say ‘The Burrow’ when he stepped into the flames. Harry had of course used the Floo Network before, but this was his first time by his self. What would happen if he didn’t end up at the Burrow but somewhere else? He didn’t have someone following him to make sure.

He ate breakfast without speaking to Mrs. McGonagall. It was summer; many of the teachers were gone for vacation, Mr. Snape included. He wondered where a lot the teachers went. He knew Mr. Snape went home for the summer but he didn’t know about the others. He often wondered why they stayed at the castle and didn’t go to Mrs. McGonagall’s home. Didn’t she have one?

“Are you ready to go?” she asked him after a while.

Harry nodded; he still hadn’t eaten very much. If Ron wasn’t friendly, at least the twins would be there he reassured himself as they left the Great Hall. Percy would likely be there as well, but Harry didn’t get along with him as well. He wondered if Percy liked him after he and the twin’s were caught hiding Filches mop. He had given him a very stern look when he found out. Charlie would also be there, which gave Harry some comfort. He hoped maybe Bill would be visiting as well.

“Now, I want you to behave Harry,” Mrs. McGonagall told him as they walked to her office. He would be using her fireplace.

“I will,” he told her. “I always do at the Malfoys. That one time wasn’t my fault.”

“Yes Harry, but you were caught several times getting into mischief with the twins this year. Which brings me to another point I wanted to talk to you about this summer. I don’t mind that you hang around them, but I want you to stop helping them out with pranks,” she answered sternly.

“All right,” he said.

“I mean it Harry. I’ll start giving you detentions as well. You will be a student here next year. I’ll also take away privileges.”

“You already do,” Harry said looking up at her. “You didn’t let me fly for a week after I helped them hide Filch’s mop.”

“Mr. Filch Harry,” she corrected. “I know you don’t like him, but show him some respect please.”

They reached her office now. She took a pot from above the fireplace and held it out for him to take some of the powder from inside. He took a handful out of it and threw it in the fireplace. The flames instantly turned green. Harry really didn’t like travelling by Floo. It always made him dizzy and nauseous.

“Speak clearly,” she told him, “I’ll check to make sure you arrived safely.”

Harry nodded before stepping into the flames with his eyes closed. He yelled, “The Burrow!” as clearly as he could. He was suddenly spinning very fast through the flames. He already felt nauseous. He hoped it wouldn’t take long. There was a loud roaring in his ears as it went on. Then suddenly it stopped and he fell out of the fireplace. Harry felt someone grab his arm and pull him up. He looked up into the face of a kindly looking woman. She began dusting him off.

“Hello Harry dear. I’m glad you made it all right. Everyone is looking forward to seeing you,” she said.

“Hello,” he said.

He gazed around the tiny cramped kitchen; it was full of boys and one small girl, all had flaming red hair. There was also a man sitting at the table with thin balding red hair. He looked very excited to see Harry. There was an empty chair beside him which he was patting enthusiastically for Harry to sit in. Harry walked over to the chair slowly and sat in it.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“I ate some before I came here,” Harry answered nervously.

He looked around the table again. They were all watching him. The little girl looked at him, blushed and looked away. Beside her was a boy who could only be Ron, he was the only boy he didn’t recognise. He noticed Ron was watching him nervously as well, so Harry didn’t feel too bad. The twins wore identical grins. Percy was buttering a piece of toast as he stared without expression.

“This is Ron,” Charlie told him who was on Ron’s other side, “and our sister Ginny.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Mr. Weasley said holding out his hand for Harry to shake, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Harry agreed shaking his hand, “Where’s Bill?” he added looking around the kitchen now.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Charlie asked, “Bill lives in Egypt. He is a Curse Breaker for Gringotts. He went out there shortly last summer.”

“He visits once in a while,” Ron chimed in, “he said he wanted to be here when you visited but he couldn’t get a way.”

He was asked questions about what it was like living at Hogwarts while the Weasley’s finished their breakfast. When they were done, Charlie mentioned they should go outside where it was nice out. Harry followed them out noticing a lot of differences between this place and the Malfoy’s. The Malfoy’s place was very clean with expensive items everywhere. The Malfoy’s place was also very large. The Weasley’s place was cluttered and small. He liked it though, he liked a place that looked lived in.

He was shocked once he was outside and saw exactly what the house looked like. It looked as if it used to be an old stone pigsty with extra rooms added. It was several stories high. It was very crooked, Harry wondered if it was all held up by magic. On the back porch were a rusty cauldron and a pair of boots. He thought he saw a tiny creature running across the yard.

“What is that?” Harry asked.

“Oh those are garden gnomes,” Ron said quickly, “Mum doesn’t like them, but dad does. Maybe we could show Harry how to De-gnome a garden!”

“De-gnome?” Harry asked watching the gnome.

“Mum usually gets us to get rid of them,” Charlie answered, “they wreck the garden. They are always back by the next day of a De-gnoming.”

“My uncle and aunt didn’t have these kinds of gnomes,” Harry said as Fred walked over to the gnome.

He watched as Fred picked it up and swung it around like a lasso. He then released it and it flew about twenty feet away. Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to De-gnome the garden, it looked as if it hurt the gnomes. He didn’t like hurting innocent creatures. Hagrid had taught him all about magical creatures. He guessed a garden gnome was another magical creature.

“They probably had those plastic ones,” Charlie said, a dark look came over his face, just as it did with the rest of the Weasley’s, but Fred. They exchanged glances and Harry wondered if they all knew the reason why he was living at Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy did because of his father. He had also sent Harry the clippings from the Daily Prophet on his birthday that had been about the trial. He told him his father had cut them out. He knew Harry had wanted to know more about the trial. In the clippings it said Lucius Malfoy, as a Governor for the school had been against Harry living at Hogwarts. Harry was surprised that Draco never rubbed it in his face. He had gone as far as rubbing the fact that Harry had no parents in his face but that was it.

Ginny was scowling down at the grass. Harry decided to change the subject quickly; he didn’t want to talk about his aunt and uncle. He wasn’t sure if any of them would bring it up.

“It looks like it might hurt them,” he said as Fred walked back over to them.

“Nah. It doesn’t,” Fred said, “Just makes them dizzy. Want to try it out? You can just watch if you’d like.”

The rest of the Weasley’s looked happier that the subject had changed from his aunt and uncle. Fred started leading them to a garden that had a lot of weeds in it. Harry noticed more gnomes as they approached the garden. There were also a lot of holes in the garden as well. A gnome poked its head out of one.

“You’re too little Ginny,” Percy said as Ginny walked over to a gnome.

The rest of the Weasley’s already reached for their own. Harry watched as Ginny glared at Percy, she put her hands on her hips. She was very small but Percy backed up from her glare.

“I am a year younger then Ron! Ron has been doing it since forever! I am not too little! I am turning nine soon Percy Weasley!” She shouted.

“No,” Percy said, “Why don’t you go sit down and watch?”

“I want to help!” Ginny yelled.

Harry didn’t think it wasn’t right that he was excluding Ginny who was near tears now. Though he was a guest at their place, Harry was ready to step forward and defend her. Charlie who had just thrown a Gnome about fifty yards away, looked at Percy with a disapproving look on his face.

“Oh leave her be Percy. She has de-gnomed a garden before. She knows what she is doing,” he winked at Ginny.

Harry guessed she hadn’t before, but Charlie was letting her know with a wink to play along with him. She looked from Charlie to Percy then nodded.

“I have de-gnomed a garden, so there!” Ginny said.

Then as if to prove her point, she walked up to one of the gnomes and picked it up. She spun it over her head, and then threw it about twenty yards away. Harry impressed that a little girl had a good arm joined in. Harry would have to ask Hagrid about gnomes when he was back at Hogwart’s. He had never seen one at the Malfoy’s place nor at Hogwarts.

When they were finished, they went back inside. Ron asked Harry if he wanted to see his room. Harry nodded wondering what another wizard’s room looked like. He had never seen Draco’s. He wanted to see if Ron had the same interests he did. The rest of the Weasley siblings disappeared as if giving Ron time to himself with Harry.

The staircase they walked up was very uneven. They walked up five flights of steps to a room that said Ronalds Room on a plaque which hung on a paint-chipped door. Ron opened the door and led Harry inside a small room with sloped ceilings. The ceiling was close enough to his head that if he jumped he would hit his head. The wall was covered in Chudley Cannon posters.

“They haven’t won in a long time you know,” Harry said.

Ron shrugged, “I know, but I still like them. I like all Quidditch though.”

“Me too,” Harry said as he glanced around the room. “I always look forward to the games at Hogwarts. Sometimes I play it with Draco Malfoy.”

Ron had a fish tank that was full of frog spawn. Beside it, there was a pile of comic books. He stepped closer to read the title: The Adventures of Martin Migg’s the Mad Muggle. He wondered if they were any good. Mrs. McGonagall had only ever given him educational comic books.

“You know the Malfoy’s are a bad family,” Ron said frowning at Harry, “I heard you play with Draco sometimes. You should be careful. Dad has told me they were you-know-who’s supporters.”

Harry nodded, “I know, but they aren’t anymore. Draco isn’t too bad most times and I’ve been taught you can’t judge people by their parent’s actions.”

“I guess,” Ron said uneasily, “but you should still be careful.”

Harry decided to change the subject by asking Ron about the comic books. Ron looked relieved by the change of subject and launched into a story about Martin Miggs. He was surprised that Harry hadn’t ever heard of him. It seemed to be Ron’s favourite comic. Ron moved over to the comic’s quickly. He was taller then Harry. His head was almost touching the room. He almost looked awkward as he moved; he was so tall and gangly.

“You can borrow them if you want,” he offered, “and do you collect chocolate frog cards? I do, almost got about four hundred now. I’m missing some.”

“Yes.” Harry said. “Did you know that the Headmaster, Dumbledore is on one?”

Ron nodded. He pulled out a tin from under the comic books and opened them. He started showing the ones he had and pulled out a few of Dumbledores. Harry looked in the tin to see of Ron had some that he didn’t. They could trade cards sometime if Ron wanted. He had done so with older students on several occasions. Draco Malfoy was the one to give him one of Merlin.

“What is he like?” Ron asked, “All my brothers say he is a genius, but I heard you are close. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“He is,” Harry said and began explaining Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers to Ron as well.

Ron seemed surprised that Harry was close with Mr. Snape. He had heard from his brothers’ that Mr. Snape could be nasty. Harry didn’t want to explain it, Draco had asked as well. He didn’t want them to know that Mr. Snape had shown him that magic was okay. He’d been beaten by his uncle whenever he mentioned or did magic. Mr. Snape had fixed his glasses with a wand, it was the first time he had seen anyone else do it. He was the first person besides Mrs. Figg and his teacher at school who had been nice to him.

Harry was saved from answering because Ginny walked in carrying something in her hands. She kneeled down beside Harry and dropped a rat in his lap.

“That’s Scabber’s, Percy’s rat,” She said, “we have an owl too but he is on a delivery.”

“Oh,” Harry said looking down at the rat wondering why she was showing him Scabber’s. He looked at her and she blushed before looking away. Ron stared at Scabber’s as well.

“Percy says some day he might give him to me,” Ron said, “that way I don’t have to take a toad to Hogwart’s,” he nodded at tank a full of frog spawn, “they say you can only take frogs, cats or owls. They don’t really notice when people bring other small animals though. Fred said a girl in his year has a turtle. Percy has taken Scabber’s.”

“I think it’s to stop people from bringing big animals. You know, like dogs. Hagrid has a dog named Fang. He is friendly though. I’ve seen people with other small animals as well,” Harry answered.

Ron asked more questions about Hogwart’s and what Harry was learning. Harry explained his lessons to both Ron and Ginny. He didn’t feel irritated explaining it to them. They weren’t asking for bragging rights. He hoped he could get to know Ron better, he felt this was a friendship that could last.

“What was Quirrel’s reason for not wanting to come back?” Severus asked interested.

“Albus told me he isn’t the same anymore,” Minerva answered, “he was scared of the very idea of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Professor Sprout looked up very surprised. The school year would begin in less than a week. The teachers who had come back for term already were gathered in the teacher’s lounge. They had all been interested in Quirrel’s trip. He hadn’t talked about anything else for weeks during his last term at teaching. Minerva had reported to the teacher’s that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that year was Yvonne Despare. They all remembered her being a bright young lady at Hogwart’s. She had been a Ravenclaw a year before Severus.

“But that was one of his best classes when he was a boy at Hogwart’s,” Professor Sprout said, “Mind you, he was top of almost all of his classes. I do remember him telling me he got an Outstanding in his O.W.L’s and N.E.W.T’s”

“From what Albus said, he had a bad encounter with a Vampire. That isn’t a surprise to me. I could have told him that when he said he wanted to find wild Vampires,” Minerva said. “I guess he didn’t want to talk about his trip at all. He said to contact him in a year. He might be ready by then.”

Chatter broke around them about Quirrell not coming back. The new Defense Against the Dark Art’s teacher wasn’t there yet, so many were discussing her as well. Severus remembered her very well. He had to wonder what her reasons for coming back to Hogwart’s were. She had been one of the more gossipy Ravenclaw’s, but brilliant. She had wanted to work in the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable. He wasn’t sure if she had. She had been an acquaintance of Lily Potter’s. He wondered if her interest in Hogwart’s was because of young Harry.

“All right, coast is clear. I don’t know how we ever managed without this thing,” Fred whispered as they made their slow way through the corridors.

George held a finger to his lip and peered down at the Maurader’s Map in Harry’s hand, who was in the middle of the twin’s. According to the map, Filch was down on the third floor. Harry and the twin’s were up on the seventh floor. However, he could see that Mrs. Norris was a floor below them. At time’s he had to wonder if she could see through Invisibility Cloaks. Harry looked for Mrs. McGonagall. She was still asleep in her quarters, unaware that Harry was wandering the corridors after midnight.

“So where are we going anyway?” Harry whispered, “You said it was urgent.”

“Nah, it’s not. We just wanted to go for a night time stroll,” Fred answered, “hmm, Snape is down on the fifth floor.”

“Well, there is a hidden staircase up ahead,” George replied. “It will take us down to the fourth floor.”

Harry thought that living at Hogwart’s for five years would have given him knowledge of every passage in the school. This was not true, the twin’s were showing him passages he had never encountered before and they had only been at Hogwart’s for a little over a year. He had to remind himself that the first few years of his life at Hogwart’s he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere alone.

The twin’s opened a tapestry in the wall that revealed the hidden staircase. They walked slowly down the steps, still watching the Marauder’s map. Mr. Snape was now going up to the sixth floor. Filch was now down on the first floor. Harry squinted at the map that was lit but Fred’s wand. Sam Audrick was wandering down the corridors by himself. He was down in the dungeons near Mr. Snape’s office. Harry watched as the tiny dot moved into Snape’s office. Harry looked at Mr. Snape’s dot that was unaware on the sixth floor. Harry didn’t want to be a rat, but he had a feeling that Audrick was up too no good.

“Look!” Harry hissed pointing out Audrick’s dot to the twin’s.

“Sam Audrick?” Fred asked, “Who is that?”

“He is the one who told me that I was famous,” Harry explained, “he is always bothering me about what they teach me. He is a fifth year Hufflepuff. And he is in Mr. Snape’s office.”

Fred and George had long ago learned not to ask Harry why he liked Mr. Snape so much. They had also learned not to insult him in front of Harry. They both seemed to understand Harry’s indignation, or perhaps they were just curious as to why he was in Mr. Snape’s office. They leaned in closer to look at the map.

“Well, we can get down there quickly to see what he is up to,” Fred said, “see, once we are on the fourth floor; there is a hidden corridor here,” he pointed to a spot on the map, “It’s behind a door pretending to be wall. There is a staircase at the end here. This will take us to the second floor. It is close to the marble staircase. Filch is no where near there now.”

They walked quicker now, well aware that the cloak was likely flapping around their ankles. It didn’t matter. There was no one around to see them. Peeves the Poltergeist who liked to rat on students for the fun of it was on the sixth floor heading toward Mr. Snape. The rest of the ghosts weren’t any where near them. Harry doubted they would tell on them, the ghosts usually minded their own business.

There were a couple of times that they tripped over each other as they hurried. Audrick was over near Snape’s personal cupboards. He wondered if he was stealing potion ingredients then. Harry didn’t know why, the students were always allowed to help themselves to the ingredients in the student cupboards.

The dungeons were freezing at night. Harry wished he had grabbed a sweater to wear over his pajamas. He shivered slightly. They walked slower now that they were closer to Mr. Snape’s office. Harry wanted to confront him, but how could he without revealing the cloak, the map or the twins?

“He must be stealing something that isn’t usually kept in the student cupboard,” George said thoughtfully, “But I wonder what?”

“And what he is making,” Fred added, “can’t be too good, can it?”

“But he can’t be making anything dangerous?” Harry whispered they were just outside the office now, “I mean first of all, how could he be able to do it at school? Someone would find out. There aren’t many places here he could make it that the teacher’s don’t know about.”

Unless of course he know’s about the Room of Hidden Things? Harry thought to himself. Others had to know about it as well judging by the amount of hidden items in it. They waited outside the office for him to come out; maybe they could see what he was bringing out.

“If he really wanted to, he’d find away,” George answered. “Might not be dangerous. Obviously he wants to keep what he is making secret. He doesn’t have anyone looking out for him.”

“He has no friends,” Harry answered.

He was still in the office looking around. Harry had a sudden idea, he could pretend that he had come down to the dungeon looking for Mr. Snape. While he did this, he found Audrick in his office. He whispered his plan quickly to the twin’s. He told them to go back to their common room so they weren’t involved. They both looked at him.

“Let’s see, you a midget against a fifth year . . . I don’t think so,” George said, “You aren’t going in there alone.”

“We’re not leaving you behind,” Fred added. “Sounds as if he has Gryffindor blood in him after all George. Wants to take on a student when he doesn’t know any magic yet.”

“I don’t plan on taking him on,” Harry said, “I just want to know what he is stealing. He could hide whatever he takes in his robes. I’m just saying, if we’re caught together . . . ”

The twin’s both shook their heads. Harry stared at them in amazement. They were always known for their recklessness. Where was it now? They were acting like overprotective brothers. It was very uncharacteristic for them. They looked down at the Marauder’s Map. Harry saw that Audrick was now leaving the office. He could still dart out from under the cloak, but as if knowing what he was thinking, the twin’s grabbed his arms.

Audrick left the office moment’s later. He had his wand lit; his robe pockets appeared to be bulging. He wore a smirk on his face as he slowly closed the door. Harry saw the dot that said Severus Snape was down on the first floor now. They had only been watching Audrick’s dot and not any others. There was a chance Audrick could be caught without Harry’s interference. Audrick would have to go upstair’s in order to get to the Hufflepuff Common Room.

Once he was far enough ahead, they started following him slowly. Audrick peered over his shoulder a few times, but couldn’t see them. The followed him to the staircase that led to the first floor. Harry looked down at the map. Mr. Snape was heading in the opposite direction of the Entrance Hall. Audrick would get away with it. They followed him up the steps slowly still.

At the top of the step’s Harry wondered if he could make a noise to alert Snape they were there. Before he could, Peeves suddenly popped out of thin air in the Entrance Hall. He was laughing evilly, and then slowly his head turned. He spotted Audrick making his slow way to the stairs that would lead him to the Hufflepuff Common Room.

“Oooh Sammy whammy is out of bed . . . ” Peeves said cackling.

“Sod off Peeves,” Audrick said. “Go bother Mrs. Norris.”

“Sammy whammy never learns his lessons! Always out of bed, sneaking around the corridors,” Peeves said. “Shall tell Filch!”

“Don’t you tell on me again!” Audrick snapped. “I’m going back to bed now.”

“Let’s go,” Fred whispered, “If Peeves yells, which he will, we’ll be standing here for a long time.”

As slowly as they could, they moved through the Entrance Hall. Peeves was still taunting Audrick who was getting angry. Harry wondered why he didn’t just move. Harry knew he wouldn’t be sticking around, arguing with the poltergeist. When they reached the top of steps, Peeves started yelling.

“STUDENT OUT OF BED! SAMMY WHAMMY WANDERING AROUND!”

“Damn you Peeves!”

“Bloody Hell!” George yelled. “Run, Filch is on the sixth floor.”

They ran, taking as many short cuts and secret passages as they could all the way back to the Seventh Floor. Harry accompanied the twin’s to Gryffindor tower. He figured they could go in first, and then he would make his way invisible back to his room. They paused to look at the map to see if Audrick had been caught. Filch’s dot was hurrying down the steps; he must have heard Peeves cries. He was down on the second floor now. Snape was in the Entrance Hall with Peeves, but Sam was safely in Hufflepuff Common Room. He looked as if he was sitting alone.

When he dropped the twin’s off near Gryffindor tower, he made his slow progress back to his own room. Once he was in his room he lay in his bed awake wondering exactly what Audrick was up to.

Harry was distracted, Severus could tell. He’d had to repeat his instruction’s twice several times during their lesson. He was teaching Harry how to dodge curses. Harry had been petrified twice and disarmed once. Severus sighed and stared into Harry’s eyes, trying to see what he was thinking. Harry noticed what he was doing. He could see Harry trying to block his mind as Severus had taught him, but failed. He could see that Harry was thinking about Sam Audrick. There was also some sort of parchment but before Severus could see what it was, it was replaced with a comic book about Martin Migg’s. Harry’s face was red with concentration. The parchment was slowly returning as Severus tried to get into Harry’s mind again.

“I think Sam Audrick is up to something!” Harry shouted. “Now stop it.”

Long ago, Severus had told Harry he had to learn to block his mind. The boy hadn’t succeeded yet. His efforts always tired him out. Severus figured this was an exercise he should learn early so he could get better at it with time. Harry was glaring at him now.

“You shouldn’t do that without telling me,” he said now rubbing his temples. “Now I have a headache.”

“Do you think in the future someone who is a foe will warn you?” Severus asked. “You have to prepare now to block your mind from attacks you don’t see coming.”

Harry glared at him again and folded his arms as he sat down on a chair in the unused classroom they always used.

“I am not talking about an enemy. I am talking about you!” Harry snapped back. “Only do it without warning when you want me to learn it! Don’t do it when you want to learn my secrets.”

Severus glared back at him; he was seeing James Potter in Harry at the moment. Harry didn’t back down, just as his father never did. Harry stared at him defiantly. Harry hadn’t glared at him in this way since he’d out how Severus felt about James.

“Do not snap back at me,” Severus said slowly. “Now, tell me. Why do you think Sam Audrick is up to something?”

“Promise you will never do that again unless you have to,” Harry said. “It’s not right to do that. I wanted to tell you . . . but I want to trust you first. I thought I did.”

Severus sighed. Harry did have a point. He shouldn’t have invaded his mind. He did want Harry to trust him enough that he didn’t have to invade his mind for secrets. The look Harry was giving him wasn’t one of hatred. It was one that told him he had betrayed his trust and he was angry about it.

“All right. You are right. I should not have done that. You were very distracted today and I wanted to know why. I should have asked,” Severus said, “I’m sorry Harry.”

“I was trying to think of a way to tell you. That’s why I was distracted. I have been for weeks. I-I can’t tell you exactly how I know,” Harry answered.

Severus nodded thinking back to a night weeks ago. It had been his night to patrol the corridors for anyone out of bed. As he was finishing his patrol, he could hear Peeves yelling something about ‘Sammy Whammy’ and hurried to find out what was going on. The teachers all know that Peeves called Sam Audrick that; he had caught the boy out wandering at night before. Peeves refused to tell him anything though. He had just laughed at him and disappeared. He ran into Filch afterward who was demanding to know what Peeves was shouting about.

“I do not know,” Severus answered wanting to brush Filch off.

The next morning when he was looking for some potion ingredients, he found that some were missing. At the time he thought maybe he had displaced some. Now he wasn’t sure. If Harry didn’t want to tell him why he thought Sam had been out, it must have meant that Harry was wandering around the corridors under his cloak. He just didn’t know what a piece of parchment could have anything to do with it. Harry seemed hesitant to continue, he knew Harry didn’t like telling on other students. He had lied for students several times in the past.

“Harry, I noticed one morning that potion ingredients were missing from my private store. If you suspect a student is stealing from me, you aren’t doing anything wrong by telling me. Is this what you suspect?”

Harry nodded, “I can’t tell you how I know it was Sam.”

“In the future, I would advise you not to wander the corridors at night. Next year as a student, you will be given detention and lose points for whatever house you are sorted into. This is a rule you must follow now, and I know you know that. We told you that you couldn’t use that cloak to hide from us,” Severus said, “But I am glad you told me. I will investigate this myself. Please do not worry about it. Now, would you like to continue with our lesson?”

Harry nodded. He stood up and went into the duelling position. He held his fake wand over his head as he stared at Severus prepared. He hoped Harry didn’t get distracted in any of his classes the next year.

Harry was used to being around the teachers. He often sat with many of them in their offices to talk to them. Professor (as he was told to call the teachers now) Despare liked to invite him to her office a lot. It was well into the school year and he had lost count of how many times he had been asked to sit in her office to share a drink. At first he thought it was because she wanted to meet him because he was famous. He wasn’t so sure anymore. She seemed interested in him. It hadn’t taken him long to learn who was sincere and who wasn’t.

“Did you know my parents?” Harry asked her as they sat in her office one evening.

She was a very pretty woman with dark hair and blue eyes. Harry hadn’t really paid much attention to appearances before, but it was hard not to with this woman. He had never seen anyone so beautiful, except perhaps the pictures of his mother. She smiled at him.

“I did. Why do you ask?” she answered.

“Well I know you went here with them. You were just older and in Ravenclaw. Professor Snape told me,” Harry answered.

It was hard to call them ‘Professor,’ but Professor McGonagall insisted Harry get in the habit now. He would have to address them as teachers when he was a student in less then a year. She reached across her desk and patted the hand that Harry had on her desk.

“I knew your mother. We weren’t good friends, but we did talk often. Now as for your father, well I was a prefect in my days here. There were many times when I had to put him in detention. He was very good-natured about it though. Asked me out one time.” She answered.

“Wait a minute. He asked you out? You mean on a date? But what about my mum? Wasn’t he with my mum?” Harry asked not liking this information.

“Oh don’t misunderstand me Harry. We never dated. He was very much in love with your mother. They didn’t date until their seventh year when they were- er ready to. This was back in my fifth year and his fourth year,” She answered quickly.

“Oh,” Harry said, still not wanting to hear this. He decided to change the subject. He hadn’t ever thought about his dad being with anyone but his mother. He knew teenagers at Hogwart’s dated but it was strange thinking of his parents as teenagers, even if he didn’t remember them. “You and my mum got along then?”

“Oh yes,” She said and began telling him how they had met when Lily had been in her fifth year. She had been made a prefect in her fifth year. The prefects usually had to patrol the corridors together. They had been assigned as a pair and had hit off a friendship. Harry liked hearing stories about his parents and enjoyed this one.

“I couldn’t wait to meet Lily and James’s son, and not because you are famous Harry. I don’t want you to think that. I was interested in meeting you weeks after you were born. I always liked your parents you see,” she said, “so when Professor Dumbledore asked me if I wanted to teach for a year I said yes. I had applied shortly after I graduated but he told me I was too young, so I worked at the Ministry until now. I still work there, so to speak. I took a leave of absence.”

Harry nodded. He could tell she was being truthful. Professor Snape had taught him how to tell when someone lied. She wasn’t lying; she was sincerely interested in meeting him because of whom his parents were. She didn’t care that he was just a famous name, though he could tell she was intrigued by his history. He knew she wouldn’t ask about it though; it was in her expression she wouldn’t. She just wanted to be his friend.

Severus looked through the ingredients that had gone missing. It had taken him a few days, but he finally figured out what Sam Audrick was making. He hadn’t noticed at first, but after he checked his cupboard again he saw that some of the venoms used in Veritaserum were missing as well. He wasn’t sure why the boy was making it, but he could easily be expelled for using it on another student. Severus had no doubt that Audrick would make a successful potion; he was the best potion-maker he had seen in his years teaching at Hogwarts.

Severus waited until one fifth year O.W.L class to keep him back. The students were all nervous as they usually were in O.W.L year. Audrick, however didn’t look troubled. The look he gave Severus was a smug one, as if he thought Severus would compliment his work for the day. It had been outstanding, but Severus wasn’t going to give the boy something to gloat about.

“Sit down Mr. Audrick,” Severus said as soon as the class was empty but for him and Audrick. “I have a few questions to ask you and I warn you, I will find out if you are lying.”

Sam looked a little apprehensive now. Severus wondered just how well the boy was at Occlumency. Sam looked down into his lap as if knowing what Severus was thinking. He wouldn’t use Leglimency on him yet, that would be a last resort.

“I’ve noticed that there are some ingredients missing from my private store. Now-”

“What? So just because I am good at making potions I am going to get blamed for this?” Audrick snapped, not looking at Severus still. “Maybe you just misplaced ingredients!”

“Do not talk back to me, or interrupt Mr. Audrick. Ten points from Hufflepuff! I noticed these particular ingredients were missing from my cupboard the night after Peeves told me a student was out of bed. He told me he saw you out of bed,” Severus said.

Audrick may have been a good student, but when he was confronted by a teacher or another student he got nervous. Audrick’s face was definitely pale at this point. He was also moving his fingers around in his lap nervously. He still didn’t look at Snape as he spoke.

“You know Peeves has always had it out for me,” Audrick answered. “Why don’t you check with little Fred and George Weasley? They’ve been known to steal from teachers. They attacked me in the corridors a week ago for no reason. I didn’t even know they knew who I was. Maybe they were out that night and told Peeves to tell you it was me.”

“Peeves doesn’t lie for students,” Severus had to wonder if the twins had been out that night as well. If Harry had been out, they could have been with him. It might have been the reason Harry hadn’t wanted to tell him the truth about what he knew. Peeves didn’t lie for the Weasley twins either. He had caught them a few times because of Peeves. “The Potion ingredients that were taken from me were to make a very advanced potion. One that I can’t see a student less than sixth year, being able to brew. Unless of course it’s a student who is very advanced for his age.”

Severus got up from his chair and walked over to his book shelf where a few copies of Advanced Potion Making was and grabbed one. He made sure to avoid a certain one. He grabbed a ratty older copy instead. He placed it on the desk and began flipping through the pages until he found the page to make Veritaserum. Audrick glanced at the page and looked away quickly again. Severus smiled inwardly; the boy was giving himself away.

“Although we do teach this potion at the sixth year level, we don’t allow for students to use it against each other. It is a potion to be made under supervision, and then marked on its effectiveness. The Potion Master of the school usually does this for the students in case it isn’t effective. If the potion isn’t made right, it could kill the drinker.”

Audrick looked up from his lap, “And you likely wouldn’t believe me that I don’t plan to use it on any student.” He said angrily, face still pale.

“Is this a confession Mr. Audrick?” Severus asked icily. “Did you or did you not steal from me.”

“I wasn’t planning on using it on anyone. I haven’t made it yet,” Audrick answered, “there isn’t anyone that I care to hear the truth about that goes here.”

“Except Mr. Potter,” Severus couldn’t help but say, everyone knew his interest in Harry.

“I would never use it on him. He is a little kid. And I’ve told everyone that I never meant to tell him that he was famous. It slipped out. I know his past; I wouldn’t do anything to him that would harm him. This has nothing to do with anyone at Hogwarts.” Audrick said, looking Severus in the eye now for the first time.

He could see the truth in his face this time. Severus looked into his thoughts quickly trying not to let Audrick know what he was doing. A man that looked a lot like Audrick appeared quickly, which meant Audrick was already thinking about him. Severus looked down at the potion text book and shut it with a snap. He wasn’t going to question further into it now.

“I would like the ingredients returned to me. You will serve detention with me every night this week,” Audrick’s face went even paler at that point.

“Sir, I need my evenings to do homework! Couldn’t I do it every weekend instead?” Audrick asked, “I mean; I’m sure you need the week nights as well to mark people’s homework.”

“No,” Severus answered, “you will come to my office every night at seven this week. One hundred points will be taken from Hufflepuff as well. You do not have the right to steal from me, or wander the corridors at night. You’re lucky you aren’t expelled for sneaking in my office and stealing at night.”

Audrick made an annoyed noise but didn’t say anything else. He wished it was always this easy to get students to confess. He dismissed Audrick than put the book away. He would have to tell Harry that he had confronted Audrick, though he wouldn’t tell him what he had planned to make. He had a feeling Harry was still trying to investigate why Audrick had been stealing from his private store.

Harry watched as the Gryffindor team was slowly getting ahead. They had to try and win a lot of points for that game. Otherwise, they would lose the cup once again to Slytherin. He sat beside Professor McGonagall holding up a Gryffindor flag and waving it around. Everyone had been anticipating this game. It was against Hufflepuff, the last game of the year.

It had been a long year. Harry was glad it was almost over because he would soon be a student at Hogwarts. He had been allowed to visit Ron Weasley as much as he had wanted that year. He liked visiting the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley always made him feel at home. He didn’t have to worry about his appearance, or if he, Ron and Ginny had cleaned up after playing. They were a lot more laid back in the Weasley household.

At Malfoy Manor, they always had to make sure everything was kept in best shape. It didn’t make sense to Harry since they had a House Elf to do it for them. Though Harry didn’t like making a lot of work for Dobby; he didn’t like the way the poor elf was treated. Draco didn’t seem to care when Dobby would start beating himself up as a punishment.

Strangely, Sam Audrick had also started talking to him in a friendly way as well. He didn’t demand answers from him anymore. Instead, he always asked him how his day was going and if he looked forward to becoming a student at Hogwarts. Just that day before the match, Audrick had stopped Harry in corridors.

“Hey Harry, if you ever need help with any of your homework, next year let me know,” he had said, “first year can always be a difficult year because you are finally doing magic. It’s not as easy as waving your wand and saying the incantation.”

“I know,” Harry answered, “Professor Snape told me. But thanks for the offer.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he ever would ask Audrick but he liked the change in the boy. He wondered if Professor Snape had told him to lay off him after he had confronted him for stealing the ingredients. Harry knew Professor Snape hadn’t mentioned it was Harry who had seen him stealing the ingredients.

He watched as one of the Weasley twins hit a bludger toward one of the Hufflepuff players. It could easily have been one of the twins who had changed Sam. They had been very rude to him over the past year since they had caught him.

They were very good Quidditch players. He had watched their tryouts at the beginning of the year. They along with a girl from their year named Angelina made the team. She was one of the Chasers. Another girl from their year, Alicia had been made a reserve for the Chasers. Charlie had said she would likely be on the team the next year since the other two Chaser’s were in the Seventh year. Oliver Wood, the fourth year Keeper would be the captain in a year, he had liked her performance as well.

Harry thought he saw the Snitch down near the goal posts. He looked up at Charlie who was still circling the pitch looking for it. Harry wanted to yell and point it out to him, but then it would alert the Hufflepuff Seeker as well. He figured it was against the rules anyway. The Snitch was gone after a few moments. Harry sat back disappointed. Charlie was an excellent Seeker, but Gryffindor still hadn’t won in years.

Hufflepuff was keeping up with Gryffindor as the game went on. The Hufflepuff team had really excellent Chaser’s that year. Their beaters were no-match against Fred and George Weasley however. The two of them were the best beater’s Harry had ever seen play in his five years at Hogwarts. Suddenly, the Hufflepuff Seeker was diving. Charlie spotted him and started following him after the Snitch.

Harry leapt up in his seat and started yelling: “GO CHARLIE GO!”

“We still won’t win,” Professor McGonagall said from beside him, “Slytherin will still be a hundred points ahead. If we could keep the game going longer then-”

But Charlie had just caught the snitch from under the Hufflepuff Seeker’s nose. The Gryffindor’s were cheering. Harry didn’t know why, if they weren’t going to get the Quidditch Cup, why did it matter? Professor McGonagall was cheering beside him. She saw him looking at her with amazement.

“Even if we didn’t win the cup, they did play well. It’s best to keep the teams spirit up. They did win this game.”

The Cup was awarded to Slytherin, but the Gryffindor’s were still celebrating in their Common Room anyway. Harry was in his room by himself when the Weasley twins turned up with arms full of butterbeer. They were followed by Charlie Weasley shortly. They sat down in Harry’s sitting area and handed Harry a butterbeer. Harry hesitated before taking it. Professor McGonagall had said he should wait until he was at least twelve or thirteen to try one.

“What are you three doing here?” Harry asked opening the butterbeer.

“Thought we would celebrate with you for a bit. McGonagall wouldn’t let us take you back to Gryffindor tower with us. She says you aren’t in the house and won’t necessarily be in Gryffindor either,” Fred answered, “she said we could sit with you for a bit.”

“Does she know about this?” Harry asked holding up the butterbeer.

He had taken a sip of it. It had tasted delicious. It was even better than Pumpkin Juice.

“No, we’ll take them with us before we go. She is having a meeting with Dumbledore at the moment,” George answered.

“Why are you celebrating if you didn’t win the cup?” Harry asked taking another drink of butterbeer.

“Well, we won the match,” Charlie said. “I was trying to wait until we had more points ahead. I had seen the Snitch a few times before that, but I ignored it. But when I saw Montin flying after it, I decided to go after it. I wanted to get a win for Gryffindor at any rate. We are second place. Hopefully next year Wood can put together a great team too win the cup.”

“This years team wasn’t too bad,” George said, “we had good players.”

“Gryffindor always has had good players,” Harry said, “but Slytherin always seems too win.”

“Well,” Charlie said holding up his bottle of butterbeer. “To Gryffindor!”

“Gryffindor!” Fred, George and Harry yelled out.

The door opened to Harry’s room. Harry quickly hid the bottle behind his back. However, it was only Oliver Wood and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Percy Weasley, and a boy with dread locks followed them.

“Having a party without the rest of the team?” Oliver asked; he looked around Harry’s room. “Although, I am surprised it’s in here.”

“He shouldn’t be drinking butterbeer,” Percy said pointing to Harry.

“Give it a rest Perce. It’s only one,” Charlie said, “I believe you had your first one around his age anyway.”

Percy looked disapproving for a moment, and then sat down in one of the chairs. He took a butterbeer from George and drank it in silence as everyone else started yelling out about the game. The boy with dread locks sat down beside Harry and introduced himself as Lee Jordan, the twin’s friend. He looked around the room.

“Nice place you have here. Are you going to be living here next year?” Lee asked.

Harry shook his head, “Next year I’ll live in the dormitory of the house I am sorted into. But all my stuff will stay here.”

“Still a nice place. I’m sure you’ll be able to use it when you want won’t you? More Gryffindor parties, what do you say?”

Harry laughed; he couldn’t see Professor McGonagall approving of that. She had told him he could use it when he wanted but he doubted she meant for parties. He was surprised she was letting this go on. They stayed for most of the evening in Harry’s room until she walked in. She surveyed the room and saw all the butterbeers. Harry waited for her to get angry with them.

“All right,” she said, “it’s almost curfew. You all need to return to Gryffindor tower now. Clean up your mess before you go please.”

She didn’t say anything else. She left the room once she saw that the party was breaking up. Harry looked down at the butterbeer in his hand. He wondered if he was going to get a lecture for drinking it later. He wondered exactly where they had gotten all the butterbeer anyway.