The next day Draco arrived in Potions class to find his spot between Crabbe and Goyle already filled – by himself. The other Draco smiled at him mockingly and motioned towards the only spot left in the room – a single chair free in the cluster of Harry's friends. Draco sneered and walked stiffly over to sit between Zabini and the mudblood. Granger just glared, while Zabini looked between him and the other Draco coolly before cracking a truly vicious smile.

“Well, Malfoy, I'd always heard that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, but I don't know if I can take two of you. Perhaps it is a case of 'too much of a good thing,' but -”

“Too much of a good thing?” Choked Hermione, “a good thing? I'm surprised at you, Blaise! I thought you had better taste!”

“Don't worry, I think he's probably still sane. It's just a case of temporary blindness brought on by overly bright hair.” Consoled Ron

“Call Saint Mungos – severe case of Hair-Glow exposure!” Continued Theo.

“If we could find a way to capture that, it could make a great ingredient for some sort of glow-in-the-dark potion.” Mused Hermione, “What do you think, Blaise? Any ideas on how one goes about collecting Hair-Glow?”

They didn't get a chance to talk further, however, for in that moment Snape entered the classroom, surveying the room at a glance to take silent role. Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, Weasley, Granger, Zabini, Nott, Malfoy...wait. Since when are they hanging out? Then he did a double-take. More pertinently, since when are there two Draco Malfoys? He looked back and forth for a minute and figured it out ...oh. Harry. Well that explains it. Except...which one's really Draco and which one's Harry? Harry was a smart kid – smart enough to sit with Malfoy's friends, but also smart enough to sit with his own friends and pretend to be uncomfortable there. He'd involved others in his pranks before...

“All right, very funny, Potter. Reveal yourself please.” The 'Draco' by Crabbe and Goyle was watching the other 'Draco' expectantly, while the 'Draco' sitting next to Zabini and Granger was still glaring at his tablemates. Neither looked up at the demand.

“Malfoy!” He called sharply. Both boys looked up, both glaring. Was that a hint of stiffness in the posture of the one by Crabbe and Goyle? Impossible to tell.

“Very well, stay after class, both of you.” Both boys' glares intensified, though the 'Draco' by Zabini and Granger had turned his glare on the other 'Draco.' The class tittered, while Weasley positively guffawed and Zabini wore a secretive smile. He knows...Doesn't matter. He needed to run his class.

Throughout class that day, whenever Severus called on Malfoy, both boys answered, until finally, to the class's great delight, he labeled the one by Crabbe and Goyle, whom Severus started to suspect was Harry, Malfoy 1, and the other Malfoy 2. Finally, class ended, and the two Dracos stayed behind as asked, coming to stand in front of him in the aisle at the center of the room.

“Alright, Potter, reveal yourself. NOW.”

This time each 'Draco' looked at the other. Severus sighed. “Very well.” Time to bring in the big guns. Severus walked around one 'Draco' to stand directly behind the 'Draco' that he suspected was Harry, and saw him stiffen. The other Draco just looked at him curiously, clearly wondering what was going on. Severus returned to the front and looked directly at Harry.

“If you won't reveal yourself I will reveal you.” Harry – definitely Harry – lifted his chin, glaring fiercely. Severus met and held his eyes.

“All right, just try to remember I didn't want to do this.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

Harry mirrored Malfoy, coming to stand in front of Snape, figuring he was in trouble. I told Malfoy I'm not scared, and I'm not.

“Alright, Potter, reveal yourself. NOW.”

The man wasn't playing. That was blatantly obvious, but Harry refused to respond, instead looking at Malfoy like he expected him to change back into Harry.

“Very well.” Said Snape, and walked around Draco to stand behind Harry, who couldn't help but stiffen. Stay still. You don't mind people behind you, you don't need to look to see what they're doing. Stay still. Then the man walked back around and looked right at Harry. Damnit, he knows.

“If you won't reveal yourself I will reveal you.” No way! Harry glared challengingly, but then Snape met his eyes.

“All right, just try to remember I didn't want to do this.”

Shit! Shit shit shit shit! Last time Snape had said that, he'd touched Harry's neck. Harry held up a hand quickly, stepping back. Okay. You win. Don't touch me. Harry concentrated on how his own body felt, and within seconds he looked like himself.

“Better.”

Harry glowered. You bastard.

“Thank you, Draco, you are dismissed.” The boy moved to protest but quickly subsided under Snape's glare. Harry, too, noticed the glare. Snape was not in a good mood. No don't leave! Draco grabbed his bag and left Harry alone within touching distance of a very fed-up professor Snape. Don't touch me. Please don't touch me. It was just a threat, right? Harry gritted his teeth and held his ground.

Snape watched Harry for a moment, letting his temper cool, before nonchalantly taking two steps back. Harry looked at him for a moment, but could think of no logical reason the man would've wanted to step back. That was – strange. He'd wait to thank him until after he found out what the man was going to do. Just as long as he doesn't touch me, or send me to the Corner...

“Congratulations, Potter, you've earned yourself two more detentions. One would think you would have gotten tired of them by now.”

...Or give me detention. Damn. He definitely just signed my death warrant. The interesting thing was that, this time, Snape didn't realize what he'd just done. I almost think he would change it, if he did. I wonder how long I have until Flint finds out.

“Never, sir. Staring at your pretty face is the highlight of my day.”

The corner of Severus's mouth betrayed a tiny twitch. “I'm glad you feel that way.”

Then Snape's face sharpened again and he turned the anger he had hidden back on Harry. Harry looked up sharply at the changed tone.

“However I am getting very tired of you disrupting my classes. It will not happen again. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded, mouth dry.

“Do you understand?” Snape demanded harshly.

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Harry nodded carefully and fled.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

That night's detention saw Harry slicing and preserving a large variety of disgusting life forms, most of them either slimy or filled with bad smelling liquids. Snape mostly left him alone, simply setting Harry up at a bench near his own and giving him exacting instructions on how to prepare the ingredients and why preparing them that way benefited one's potions, without getting behind him or otherwise bothering him. He was too busy bemoaning the smell of pickling nautilus tentacle and half-putrid seaweed that clung to his hands to appreciate this, however.

On Harry's way out of Snape's office he was inexplicably reminded of their Charms lesson from that afternoon, in which they had learned how to apply surface color to certain hard objects, including most wood. He contemplated a bit before choosing a nice pepto-bismol pink and teal combination with which to draw a large, psychedelic flower on the outside of Snape's office door. He had just finished painting 'MY fort: no students allowed' in big curly letters when he was interrupted by a shuffling of feet and a cat's characteristic yowl. Harry turned around but it was too late, for Filch had seen him and charged forward.

*“Well, well, well we are in trouble*. Caught in the corridors at night messing with a professor's property? Perhaps Snape will allow me to punish you like the old days...pity they let those punishments die; students just don't respect the staff like they used to. We'll just have to set you straight, won't we, boy?”

Shit shit shit shit. Vernon-type! Leave me ALONE! What are you doing? Within seconds, the man was upon him, backing Harry against the wall and bodily holding him there by his shoulder. Harry struggled but the man gripped him with bruising force. Let me GO! Abruptly, and inexplicably, the man did, and in a millisecond one of the couches from the corridor moved itself between Harry and the violent caretaker. Harry just sat and breathed for a second, curled knees to chest behind the sofa, but then a voice caught his attention and Harry got up on his knees to peer over the back of the couch.

“What the hell do you think you are DOING?” The professor had the caretaker held by the front of his clothing against a wall, and was clearly fuming.

Did he pull Filch off of me? Why would he do that?

“Only disciplining a student, professor. Nothing you need concern yourself with.” Said the man ingratiatingly, sounding nervous.

“Oh, but I believe I will, Argus.” Said Snape, his voice dangerous. Once again Harry was reminded of his initial impression that this man would kill, given the right motivation. Death Eater? “I have long since lost patience with your treatment of the students here. It will change. In particular, this student is off limits: you will not touch him again.” Filch didn't seem to get the message. I always thought he was slow.

“He is a delinquent! Do you see what he was doing? Destruction of school property, blatant disrespect to you, sir. Painting your door, we should hang him by-”

“I DO NOT CARE IF HE WAS SETTING FIRE TO MY POTIONS LABORATORY! You come to me. You do not touch Harry. By preference, you don't even look at him. You lay a finger on my ward again and if I keep my temper you will be out of here so fast you'll think you've learned to apparate. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?”

I certainly don't. Thought Harry. Is he...defending me?? No way. At any rate, if this was Snape angry, then the man had never gotten truly furious with Harry, despite all. Maybe I shouldn't keep trying to piss this man off. Thought Harry. He's SCARY when he's like this.

But then...was he really that angry that Filch had grabbed Harry? Seems that way. Weird. All of a sudden Harry remembered: My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do. Maybe I just figured out who's guarding me? It seemed unlikely, but then Harry had not yet seen Snape as angry as he was now, and he'd barely glanced at his door.

“F-Fine, very well, sir. I'll leave the little bugger be.” Snape released him and the nasty old man hurried away, muttering angrily to Mrs. Norris.

Snape breathed deeply for a moment before turning around and meeting Harry's eyes over the sofa. “Come on out, Harry.” Will he do it? How do I put him at ease again?

Harry stood up. “I wasn't hiding.”

“Hiding? Of course not. It was quite obvious to me that you were playing 'Fort.'” Snape answered, motioning to the couch. “I was going to suggest you plunder seat cushions from the common room for a roof.”

Harry blushed, but responded in kind. “Mine's not as nice as yours, sir.” He smiled a little for the second time in Severus' presence and motioned to the door.

Severus's mouth twitched. “No, I suppose not. After all, who wouldn't want a 60s-muggle-chic style potions laboratory?”

Harry grinned. “I thought you'd like it.”

“I don't suppose you can put the couch back where it was?”

Harry looked at it. It looked a lot bigger and heavier, somehow, now that he wasn't so upset. He tried giving it a mental shove like he vaguely remembered doing before, but it only made a creaking sound.

“No, sir.”

Snape looked at him seriously. “Perhaps you should practice with smaller objects. It is no small thing, to be able to do magic without use of a wand.” He returned the couch back to where it had been, and restored his door, then turned back to Harry.

“It is time for you to return to your dorm. I suspect that caretaker Filch will not bother you again. If he, or anyone else does, you are to tell me. I take this very seriously, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” That you want me to tell you, anyway. 'Guarding' me or not, I'll deal with my own problems, thank you.

“Good. Take this- he handed Harry an unmarked envelope- and go, please. It is late.”

“Yes sir.” Harry went, envelope clasped in his hands.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

Harry finally got to opening the envelope the next day before detention. He'd left it on top of his trunk the previous evening, just wanting to sleep after his scare and corresponding strange conversation with Snape – is he really guarding me?- but now he sat on his bed, filled with curiosity. The envelope was sealed, but unmarked, so Harry figured it must be for him. Snape, give me something? Strange. Then again, it was stranger that the man would defend him, and he'd done that...

He pulled his curtains closed and slid a finger under the wax to open the envelope. The first thing he pulled out was a note.

Harry – I suggest you go to Professor McGonagall or to Hagrid if you want to know more of your father. I don't have many pictures of him.

Pictures? Harry reached into the envelope and pulled out the first glossy sheet and stared at it uncomprehendingly for a moment. It was a moving photo of a beautiful woman with green eyes cradling a tiny baby with dark hair. She barely looked away from him to smile at the camera. The next showed the same woman, younger, reading underneath a tree that Harry recognized from the Hogwarts grounds. Next to her was a skinny boy with dark hair and dark eyes who stared at the camera in challenge before turning back to the girl. A vague idea started in the back of Harry's mind, but he pushed it away, pulling out the next photo. In this one, a little girl was laughing next to the same serious, dark-haired boy. The muggle-style photo was marked 'Lily.' My mother's name is Lily. Harry remembered, then froze. No. No no no. Harry shoved the photos and the note back into the envelope and slid off his bed quickly to shove them into his trunk and close the lid. I don't want to know. Harry lay back on his bed, trying to think of other things, but the image of the woman with the baby felt burned into his brain. She was cradling him as if he were the most important thing in the world.

Fifteen minutes later the curiosity grew too much, and Harry swung off the bed, ripped his trunk open and pulled out the photos. There was his mother, holding him again. This time Harry was older, and smiled a little at the camera as Lily held his hand. The next was another of her at Hogwarts, this time alone, though she smiled cheerfully at whoever held the camera. And the next, and the next...

When Harry got through, he stared at his curtains, tears running down his cheeks. Damn you, Snape. Are you trying to make me weak?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

A half-hour later Harry realized that he had to go to detention. He was determined not to even speak to Snape. Somehow, every time he did, the man got the upper hand, and proceeded to either scare the wits out of him, utterly befuddle him, or make him cry. I do NOT want to talk, especially about my- about the photos. He can just bugger off. He was also angry, though. He wanted to scream at Snape for his 'gift.' I don't want to care. I told you I had no interest in them! With that, he knocked, and entered Snape's office.

Severus watched Harry walk in with curiosity. The boy seemed...off...somehow. His face was blank, as if he were covering a great deal of fear, but his body language didn't express fear so much as...nervousness. The boy seemed on-edge, anxious in a way that was more normal for kids coming to detention with him then Harry's usual reactions were. Harry had stopped automatically reacting with fear in detention already, but this sort of carefully-controlled nervousness was odd. What was the boy nervous about, but not frightened of? What was on his mind? Harry's eyes were also a little red. Had he been crying?

“Right on time, Harry. Come sit.” Severus motioned towards the desk in front of his.

Lines, then. About the prank? It seemed like forever ago, though it had happened only the day before.

Harry went to sit down without a word, taking up the provided quill and waiting for instructions, fighting back his anger in favor of stoic silence.

“You will write, 'Pranks are childish and interrupt the concentration of my peers. They are not to be enacted in a classroom setting' two hundred times.”

Harry set to, writing, '1. Pranks are- before Snape cut in.

“What is going on?”

...childish and interrupt the concentration of my peers. They are not to be enacted in a classroom setting.' Just leave me alone.

“Harry, answer me please.”

Harry looked up at that but didn't speak. Once again the image of the woman and her baby ran in his head and his anger surfaced again. LEAVE ME ALONE! Severus saw the refusal in the boy's eyes and sighed.

“Harry, refusal to speak is rude.”

Harry's eyes turned challenging, and Snape was reminded of the boy's previous demand: 'make me'.

He is angry with me, for some reason. Snape intuited.

“Harry, why are you being so difficult? Are you angry with me?

You can't tell? Of course I'm angry, you asshole! Why do you always have to interfere in my life? Harry tried once again to fight back his anger and returned to writing, though he almost vibrated with the need to lash out. '2. Pranks are childish and interrupt the concentration of my peers. They are not to be enacted in a classroom setting.'

“Harry, why won't you talk to me?” The tone was blunt and without anger, but it sparked Harry's growing ire.

“I just don't want to! Let me be!”

Well now he's talking, at least. “Not until you've given me some information on what is wrong.”

“NO! I don't want to talk about it!”

“About what? Harry, I have no idea what you are even talking about.” Well, really I have too many ideas, some better than others.

“No idea? Don't you even know what-” Harry snapped his jaw shut. What you've done to me? Over and over the pictures of Harry's mother holding him ran in his head as he barely held back more tears. Damnit, it doesn't matter what might have been. They're dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. They're just stupid photographs. Nothing has changed.

Severus watched as the boy's mask slipped just a little, betraying the anguish behind his anger. The photographs. He finally realized. He looked at them. Snape felt a bit guilty, then, thinking about how he'd snuck the photos in without explanation or warning, and seeing the boy now. He might never have looked if I'd told him. He told himself, but it didn't help. Maybe it would have been best to let sleeping dogs lie. He just couldn't let the boy forget and ignore Lily, though. He just couldn't bear to see the boy so determinedly indifferent.

“I see. I could not allow you to forget your mother, Harry.”

Harry turned to him, pure fury in his eyes. “Yes. You. Could.”

Severus winced, feeling his guilt magnified tenfold. I may have destroyed something, here.

“I didn't do it to hurt you, Harry.”

The fury in Harry's eyes didn't fade, though a note of panic seemed to enter it at Severus' words.

“You didn't!”

“Then why are you so angry?”

Harry had nothing to say immediately, and so just looked away. This is why you weren't going to talk to him, idiot. He was angry and confused and wanted to cry, now. PLEASE leave me alone. I don't care what you 'didn't mean'.

“You cannot hurt me, but you cannot claim that you have never meant to.” Harry said coldly.

Severus stared at him a moment, thinking, He's right. Why should he trust that this was unintentional?

“Harry, I...I apologize. For that first potions class. I...judged too quickly, and behaved badly.”

Harry stared at him. What is he saying? This is weirder than Malfoy apologizing...this is weirder than Malfoy apologizing while dancing the hula on top of the Slytherin table dressed only in a grass skirt and a lei.

“I should equally apologize for not warning you about the photos. I truly did not intend to hurt you, but I believe I have.” Harry's anger started to fade, as confusion once again took hold.

“I didn't want those stupid photos. I told you they didn't matter. I don't care what might have been.”

“That may be what you told me, Harry, but disagree. I think you do care.” Snape answered quietly.

“Then why did you give them to me?! You knew it could hurt me!”

“She was your mother, Harry. She loved you.”

“And she's DEAD!” Harry shouted. “How could that possibly not hurt to know? Why couldn't you just leave me be, let me forget her? Why does it matter that she loved me if she's gone?” Harry's words cut Severus hard, but he continued.

“It isn't better to know that someone did, Harry?”

Harry stopped in his tracks. He hadn't thought about it that way at all. Taken completely off-balance, he answered with surprising honestly.

“I-I don't know.”

Severus watched, feeling sad, as Harry buried himself back in his lines, still trying to ignore the images in his head.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

Two days later Harry was walking in a deserted corridor and saw Marcus Flint walking towards him. Flint noticed him at the same time, and Harry briefly contemplated running before cursing himself for a coward. I'll just make sure nobody sees.

“I told you not to miss anymore practices, Potter.” Said Flint menacingly as he came close to Harry.

No way I can win this one. “Nice to see you, too, Flint. And yes, it is a beautiful day.” Harry gritted out. “Look, you don't want anyone to see this. Neither do I. Let's take it someplace more private?”

“Sounds like a fine idea.” Flint grabbed Harry by the shirt and shoved him into an empty classroom and up against a wall.

“I told you before that we would have words if you missed another practice.” Growled the fifth-year. Yup. I'm screwed.

“Well alright, we've had them. Now what?”

“Now I make skipping practice not fun.” Flint gritted out around clenched teeth.

That's...pretty much what I figured. This is gonna suck.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

Shiiit...That...could've gone better. Thought Harry as he dragged himself into the bathroom in the Slytherin dorm. Everybody was at lunch, so Harry had the room to himself. Spelling his clothing off, he surveyed the damage. Predictably enough, his body was littered with bruises. Most concerning, for several reasons, were a developing black eye and a large, spreading bruise on the left side of his abdomen. A glamour would do for the eye, and another couple on his lower arms, but he'd just have to hope his kidney was okay. From a twinge in his side he guessed the rib was rebroken, or perhaps another near it had cracked. He'd limped down the stairs on a twisted ankle, curse those damned staircases, but guessed that that would be alright by the next morning, if he restricted his walking a bit.

For once it's nice to be grounded. I don't need to come up with excuses to not move around or go to the Great Hall. He turned around and started to twist to see his back, but stopped quickly, cursing, as his side pulled sharply. That can't be good.

Harry went back to lie naked on his bed and breathe, exhausted after the trek from the classroom into the dorm. Snape'd probably want me to go find Madame Pomfrey. He'll be furious if I don't. But he'd survived as bad before, on his own. He could do so again. I don't need him to protect me, damnit! If I go to the infirmary now, I'll be there for the next three days...and Snape'll still be mad I didn't tell him about Flint. I'm fine on my own. He could really use some ice, though, for the ankle and his side. Then he got an idea. House-elves are supposed to keep their master's secrets, right? He pulled his covers up and called,

“Kallie!”

With a 'pop' the elf appeared in the bathroom beside him, and looked at him in horror.

“Master Harry, sir! Who had done this to you, sir?! Kallie must get Master to the infirmary!”

“No!”

“No, sir?” Asked Kallie, looking confused.

“No.” Affirmed Harry. “You can't tell anyone I'm hurt, Kallie! I'll take care of myself, but I need ice. Can you just bring me some ice?”

“But Master Harry, sir! You is hurt, sir! Please don't make Kallie keep this secret, sir! I just can't sir!”

“I'll be fine, Kallie. Just don't tell anybody. Snape would kill me if he found out I was hiding this. Just get me ice so I can take care of myself before I have to go to class.”

Kallie pursed her lips angrily and disappeared, returning moments later with several magical cold packs.

“I has your ice, Master Harry, sir. Is there anything else Master needs?”

“No, thank you, Kal-”

The elf was gone.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

Harry got to class unusually late, straightening up painfully as he walked into the room. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at his tardiness but said nothing. In Charms Professor Flitwick asked him if he was feeling alright, while Professor Quirrel just nodded to him affably as he entered the room without even noticing his tardiness or his posture. By then he was positively dragging himself between classes, and Blaise noticed enough to comment.

“You alright, Harry?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't get enough sleep, I think.” Said Harry. I really didn't sleep well. He reminded himself. And I'll be fine...in a couple days.

Finally class was over and Harry returned to the dorm with a sense of relief, barely setting an alarm spell for dinner and setting up his cold packs before falling asleep on his bed. Two and a half hours later he woke up and got out of bed, wincing and gasping at the sharp pull from his side and the stab in his rib as he rolled. He noticed as he did so that the bruise on his abdomen was still growing. He dragged himself to the bathroom and noticed his urine was dark pink. Damn. This might be a problem.

As usual, Kallie brought his dinner at 6 o'clock. She begged him once more to let her get help, but he refused. After that she barely spoke to him before leaving, only looking at him in concern and anger before popping away again. Harry ate, and fell back asleep halfway through, waking up again in a panic at 6:45. I'm gonna be late!

He hurried as well he could in the circumstances, applying his glamours in a hurry and arriving winded and almost crying from the pain in his side thirty minutes later. Not wanting to get any later, he knocked quickly and entered still panting.

“Harry?” Asked Severus with concern. “What's wrong? Are you all right?”

“Fine, sir.” It's not a lie. I am. I will be.

I'm not sure I believe you. Thought Snape. Harry had never lied to him before, though, so...Let it be.

“You are fifteen minutes late.”

“Sorry sir.”

Severus' instincts hummed at that. Something is definitely wrong.

“What kept you?”

“I took a nap and overslept.”

“You couldn't set an alarm?”

“I forgot, sir.” Never meant to fall asleep in the first place...

“Very well. For your tardiness you will stay for an extra half-hour in addition to making up the time you missed. I will dismiss you at 10:45.”

Harry could have cried. I just want to sleep! “Yes, sir.” He said with resignation.

That's it. “Harry, what is wrong? Are you ill?”

“No, sir, I am fine. I am just tired, sir.”

“Very well then.” Snape said dubiously. “You will write, 'Tardiness, whether through carelessness or intent, is disrespectful to others. I will endeavor to arrive on time and prepared, whatever the activity.' ”

“Yes sir.” Harry sat down and began to write. An hour later Snape woke him up with a frown.

“Why are you so tired?”

“I did not sleep well, sir.” It's true... it just doesn't answer the question.

“Next time consider coming to me for a potion. This is detention, not naptime.”

“Yes sir.” Harry returned to his writing, and managed to hold back sleep for two hours before Snape shook him awake again. This time Harry startled and jumped before whitening in pain.

“You are certain that you are not ill?” A hint of warning had entered Snape's voice, and Harry started to worry. Am I going to be able to hide this long enough to heal?

“Yes, sir.” I'm not ill.

Harry returned to writing for the last half hour, returning to his dorm with relief at eleven o'clock.

Snape watched him go, pondering, before attempting to return to his work. Finally, though, unable to think of anything but the boy's odd behavior, he gave up and went to bed, but lay awake still thinking and unusually tense. I am worried. He finally realized. He does not trust me; he would not tell me if something were wrong. Surely, though, the boy would tell Pomfrey? He'd seemed to trust her well enough before.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

The next day passed similarly for Harry: he dragged himself out of bed, feeling tireder than when he had gone to sleep, and dragged through his morning routine, trembling and using the counter-tops in the bathroom to support his weight as he went. He schlepped through his classes, noticing in the morning and again in the afternoon that the bruise was enormous and still growing and his urine was still very pink. He shivered in Charms until Blaise handed him a sweater without a word, watching him suspiciously. I...should probably go to Madame Pomfrey...

Harry dragged himself back to his dorm after class, and set up his homework in his bed with the curtains closed before falling asleep on top of it without setting an alarm.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Severus was working in his office before Harry's assigned detention when a soft 'pop' alerted him to the presence of a house-elf whom he did not recognize.

“M-Master Snape, sir. Kallie must talk to you, please, sir.” The elf was bouncing, ringing her hands, pulling at her ears and otherwise unable to keep still. Any time a house-elf was in that much distress over something it was a good idea to pay attention.

“Absolutely, Kallie. How may I help you?”

“It's – it's about Master Harry, sir. He- no no! Bad Kallie! Kallie mustn't tell you, sir!”

The elf grabbed for the nearest hard object but Severus was quicker, sweeping the heavy paperweight out of her hands before she could hit herself. Behavior like this could only mean - He – he has a house elf. And he has ordered her not to talk to me... That can't be good.

“I am sure Harry would not wish you to harm yourself, Kallie, no matter what you tell me.”

“Master Snape is right, sir. Master Harry is a good wizard, sir! Treats Kallie very well sir, very very well. Kallie must not betray Master Harry!” She reached out again, this time going for a poker from the small fireplace in one corner of the room, but again Snape got there faster. This isn't working. He grabbed the elf gently between his two hands, restraining her tiny arms such that she could not try anything further.

“What is going on, Kallie? What is it that you are trying to tell me? Is Harry in some sort of trouble?” He will be. Severus thought grimly. I don't know what is going on but poor Kallie is really upset about this. The elf seemed to struggle with herself, gritting out words one by one around her uncertainty and agitation.

“Bad...wizard...has...No! Bad elf! SECRET!...hurt...Master Harry...sir. Master is...sleeping...sir. Kallie...can't...no!...can't...wake him up, sir!”

Severus looked at the elf in horror. “Where is he?”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

Harry woke up comfortable, warm, and refreshed as he hadn't felt since Flint took objection to him on Thursday. This is nice. I must be dreaming or something. Then he became more aware of his surroundings and realized that he was in the infirmary, and that his bruises were gone. He'd been healed. No. He realized. I'm not dreaming, I'm dead. I'm going to die.