"We hate him because he acknowledges that our hero is a child."

"Mr Potter."

Harry jerked his head up and looked into the dark eyes of Professor Snape. The man scared him, had done ever since the Welcoming Feast, when he'd seemed to make Harry's scar hurt. And even if he'd done nothing, Harry would have been wary of him, because Snape was an adult, and adults were Dangerous.

Snape was glaring at Harry now. Harry didn't like the way the man said his name, like it was something unpleasant to be spat out.

The Dursleys said his name like that.

And Professor Snape really seemed to despise him. Harry wasn't sure why, as the man had radiated hatred from the first Potions lesson Harry had had. Harry thought it odd, but not as much as the vitriol Ron had spewed after the class on Harry's behalf. That made up for any random loathing, Harry was sure.

He was used to people hating him. Was used to it, and had accepted it. He wasn't used to people standing up for him. So, the way he figured it, was that he'd rather have people standing up for him because he was hated by someone, than not be hated by someone, and have no one standing up for him.

(He'd never expressed this to anyone, so it was never explained to him that it was a somewhat warped way of thinking.)

But despite being accepting of the situation, Harry was still scared of his Potions professor, especially when the man loomed over him the way he was doing now.

"Mr Potter," he repeated, "the hellebore goes in before the moonstone. Or is your intention to blow yourself to Kingdom Come, ruining a perfectly good cauldron in the process?"

"No, sir," Harry mumbled, staring into the orange concoction.

"I thought not," Snape sneered. "Therefore, you will provide me with one foot on the correct brewing of this potion, and where you went wrong, on my desk on Monday."

"Y'sir." Harry continued to stare downwards, cheeks burning with shame. He started as Snape waved his wand, and banished Harry's potion.

"Start over, Potter," Snape decreed, and swept over to the Slytherin side of the room.

While researching his essay that evening, Harry discovered that had he continued to make his original potion, even if he had added the hellebore and moonstone in the correct order, because he'd been stirring counter-clockwise, instead of clockwise, the mixture would have given off a gas that would have seeped into the brewer's, Harry's, lungs, and caused him to cough blood painfully for days.

He'd told Ron this, who'd snorted, and said if Snape knew that, he probably would have let Harry continue with the first potion.

Harry wasn't so sure.

"We all hate him for upsetting our hero. Except that he saves our hero. Except that he protects our hero."