Great. More lines. Harry sat down in his now-usual spot in front of Snape's desk and got started.

151. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. 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.’

I could get really tired of that phrase. Harry'd been dismissed from his meeting with Snape, only to return an hour later for detention. He really was getting tired of this. Need more pranks. I still haven't managed to get Snape really angry. Wait...was that the goal? Did he really want to do that? What was he thinking? Okay that just proves it. I'm suicidal. I can just see the headline – 'dumb Boy-who-lived-to-piss-off-possible-Death-Eater DEAD: strangled with own intestines.' Why don't I just walk right up to the Dark Lord and tell him that black robes make him look fat?

152. Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. 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.’

Just 50 more. Harry reminded himself. The relief was very short-lasting, however, as Harry realized that he didn't know what detention would entail when it was over. He didn't like not knowing. More cleaning, maybe? Harry hoped so. Cleaning was something he was good at, was used to.

Finally he got done and glumly handed in his paper. I've still got 2 and a half hours here.

“Good.” Said Snape, looking at him briefly. “Follow me.” The potions master got up and walked over to the potions laboratory, and Harry followed him in. “This is my private potions lab. I won't bother to tell you not to come here alone, because you'd never get past the wards, however if you value your hands don't touch anything that I don't personally give you.”

The potions master set Harry up at a station in the corner and gave him a pile of purple seed pods that, were they not purple, Harry would have called green beans. He then handed Harry a knife, and set about showing Harry the proper way to slice the things.

“These are called Purple Beans...” Harry held back a snort, “you will be slicing them in preparation for our class on Monday, in which we will be brewing Buggers-B-Gone,” Harry didn't manage to hold back his snort this time – clearly the product had been named by a dumb American unaware of British slang- and earned himself a glare. “a magical insecticide. Cut them into even-sized pieces –thus - unless the fibers and seeds are of equal length and size you will end up with potions of unpredictable strength. Both the fibers and the seeds have important properties in your potion. Go ahead and get started – that's right.” Harry set to with a certain measure of relief. Now I know what I'm doing.

Snape then set to brewing various potions – at least 5 at once – moving among them around the room as Harry worked. The professor occasionally moved behind Harry, but didn't lurk, and Harry found it didn't bother him too much. Two hours later the potions master checked on Harry and gave him the usual praise for his neat work.

“Where did you learn to slice so precisely, Potter?”

“Cooking, sir.”

“You cook?”

“When I have to.”

“I take it you don't like it, then.”

Are you kidding? “No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't.”

“That is not an answer.”

“Then you're not going to get one.” Can't you ever just BACK OFF?

“Don't be rude.”

Harry's temper flared. “Very well. If you could please get your ugly beak out of my business I would very much appreciate the effort. Oh, and just to point out, it is equally rude to push someone on a topic they do not wish to discuss.”

Severus inclined his head. “A point. And if I cared more about being polite than figuring out what goes on in your home life, I might heed it. Instead, though, I ask again, why do you hate cooking so much?”

Harry clenched his teeth. Everytime I talk to this man I come out with a headache. What does it MATTER to him, damnit! “Fine, then I'll also ask again. Why do you care?”

Severus was frustrated. I care because Lily told me to and you're just a child and you need help and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do when you're so bloody stubborn and so bloody damaged! I don't know, you insolent, stubborn brat so stop asking! “Because believe it or not not all adults like seeing a child in pain. Now if you know what's good for you, you will stop asking that.”

Harry just stared at him, eyes wide.

“Now, your turn. Why do you hate cooking so much?”

Harry glared but answered. “Because sometimes I mess up. You can't mess up cleaning, really. Cooking is harder.”

“And if you mess up?”

“I prefer to not mess up.” And that is all you're bloody getting out of me so BACK OFF.

Severus watched the boy's body language and decided to give it up for the moment. “Very well. You're dismissed.”

Harry returned to his dorm feeling distinctly grumpy, and headed for bed immediately after getting back from his detention, barely speaking to Theo and Blaise, though they watched him pass by. Don't talk to me right now; I don't want to bite your head off.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPH

The next day Harry woke up late, looked outside, and groaned. It was a glorious day of the type that would soon be disappearing – warm and bright with only the lightest fluffy cloud to obscure the blue. Theo, who'd been changing nearby, heard his groan and walked over to look out the window beside him.

“What's wrong with a nice day?”

“Nothing. Not one bloody thing. You should go have fun – maybe go swimming, or fly your broomstick. It's the perfect day for it, and every kid loves to go outside on those last beautiful warm days of summer before it gets bloody cold!” Harry said in a falsely cheerful tone.

“What are you on about, then?” Asked Blaise, coming up behind Harry.

Harry turned towards him. It's not their fault. “Never mind me. Seriously. Go have fun. It's Saturday, and it's beautiful.” He tried hard not to sound bitter.

“I see.” Said Blaise, satisfied. “That sucks.”

“Well I sure as heck don't! What's wrong with a beautiful day?”

“Come, on, Theo. I've never met a more Hufflepuff Slytherin in my life. Why would Harry specifically be upset that it's such a beautiful day?

“OH! Well...you wanna go put something squishy in Snapers' chair or something?”

Harry's patience ran out. “No. I want to go outside.”And I'm not going...why?

Harry started heading for the door.

“Where are you going?!” Asked Theo.

“Wait.” Ordered Blaise. Harry stopped and turned to him. Blaise tended to have a good head on his shoulders. Like Hermione, he tended to coolly weigh the risks and benefits of a certain action before doing it. Unlike her, however, 'risks' depended on how likely he was to get caught, not on how likely he was to have to break a rule. Next to the twins, he'd been the greatest asset in Harry's world wars. “Is there any way you can avoid getting caught, doing this?”

Harry thought about it for a bit, and deflated. No. And it's not worth it, either. He could just imagine getting served to Snape on a silver platter by some well-meaning (idiotic) teacher. Everyone knew about Harry's problems with Snape, to the point that Marcus Flint was seriously angry about the new detention Harry had incurred for his first prank. I should be careful not to piss him off further, Harry noted. Another reason to remain safely behind bars. But wait...

“YES!” Exclaimed Harry excitedly. “Check this out!” Harry focused hard, this time on what Karrie Woodman looked and felt like, since he wasn't using a mirror. Two minutes later he stopped feeling change, and opened his eyes. “How do I look?”

Theo and Blaise just gaped at him. Blaise recovered first.

“Karrie has...green eyes...not brown.” Was all he seemed to be able to say. Harry fixed it. Theo looked ready to faint.

“How did you DO that??”

You tell me. “I kinda don't know. I just want to look like her, and then I do. It started when I was like eight years old – I really wanted to have normal-length hair, and so it grew.”

“Normal-length? What happened to it?” Inquired Blaise.

“Oh – just a bad haircut.” Answered Harry. It wasn't even a lie. Bully for me. He was abruptly really excited. “Come on!!! Let's go outside!”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Severus Snape was just setting a cauldron of Pepperup to simmer when a bell sounded in his office – a queer three-toned chord that made him groan. I should have predicted this. After all, the boy had snuck past him before, he'd quickly realize that he could do it again. The brats never do realize that I can always tell when they sneak out. And now he'd have to stop him. And haven't I done a damned thorough job of making myself the bad guy. At this point he'd settle for neutral, but feared he'd never get past hate and fear. I'm so tired of this. The kid just wants to go outside. It's not like he can ask me, for goodness' sake! Getting a normal request out of the kid was like pulling teeth. Maybe he could work some more on fixing that...

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Severus got to the entrance to the Slytherin common room in under a minute, and stopped a minute to process. Well this is interesting. Blaise he'd expected, and Theo, but...Karrie Woodman was a third-year, and had never before shown interest in spending time with firsties. She also looked distinctly unhappy to see him. Polyjuice potion is WAY too advanced for these guys...and they'd've had to know way ahead of time that they wanted it. Maybe it's a glamour? Some glamour! Out of context, I'd totally believe that that was Karrie. He approached the trio, smirking slightly.

“Well this is odd. Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and 'Karrie Woodman' just outside of the portrait hole, when Harry Potter is forbidden to leave the dorm. Strange coincidence, is it not, gentlemen?” Aaaand....sure enough, 'Karrie Woodman' was glaring at him.

Leave me alone. I just want to go outside. PLEASE.

“Anything to say, 'Karrie'?”

Harry knew that he'd give himself away as soon as he opened his mouth, so he stayed quiet and just shook his head.

“Then reveal yourself, please.”

Damn. He already knows.Harry complied, doing his best to maintain an angry glare. He really felt ready to cry, though he refused to show Snape that. I just really, really wanted to go out...now he's gonna kill me. Detention 'till the end of the world... never gonna see the sky again...possible loss of limb. Harry stopped that thought quickly as he felt his glare fading. He REALLY didn't want to cry in front of Snape.

Severus watched Harry faze back with amazement. That's no glamour...glamours just come down, they don't...fade. Wasn't it enough that he smashed up the infirmary, now he's a metamorphmagus?! No wonder he's so good at transfiguration. He's the definition of a 'natural.' Getting a hold of himself, Severus watched as Harry/Karrie thought things over in another one of his more open moments. I can read him, now...that can only be good. The boy was clearly unhappy...and more so than just for getting in trouble. Two weeks is a long time for an 11-year-old to be stuck inside. Severus realized. I really should have expected this sooner. I'm surprised he obeyed me as long as he did.

“An explanation, if you please.”

Isn't it obvious enough? You knew keeping me inside would make me miserable, that's why you did it!

“NOW, Harry.”

What? Harry looked up in startlement. He called me Harry...again. Weird. Nobody calls me that, not even McGonagall. Whatever...if I lie, it means I care about what he does to me. If I tell the truth...he knows that being grounded bothers me. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Damn.

“I...I just wanted to go out, sir.”

“And you didn't ask...why?”

This is ridiculous. He wants me to ASK? And what exactly would that buy me? “And you would have let me, sir?”

“If you had asked politely? Possibly.” The professor sounded annoyed, and Harry squared his shoulders, giving a stronger glare. The professor continued. “Why don't you try it?”

So you can say no? I don't think so. Harry just continued to glare without answering.

“Unless you would prefer to spend the afternoon in your dorm as usual? Either way I won't forget the fact that you tried to sneak out.”

In other words, I'm in trouble again. When does he get so mad that he hits me? DAMNIT I am so fucking NOT scared. Harry's glare deepened as he stood up straighter and jutted out his chin. Blaise watched the interaction with interest. What is going on here?

Damnit, he won't even try, not when I'm angry, at least. Suddenly the professor realized. Damnit all to hell I WANT to let him go outside. I suppose...in the interest of keeping the kid confused...

“One hour.”

It had the desired effect: Harry was looking at him like he'd spontaneously grown another head... or two. Ten points to me.

“What...you mean...huh?”

“Eloquent, Mr. Potter. I said one hour. You may go outside for one hour. I expect you back in the dorm by 12:30. Keep in mind that this will not happen again: next time you really will be required to ask.”
Unless by then I'm a total doormat. I certainly seem to be tending that way, lately.

Harry just kept staring at him, now with growing hope.

“Go, Harry, before I change my mind.” Fat chance, with the sad-puppy look you just gave me. Severus prided himself on being realistic. Okay, so 'puppy look' is an exaggeration. Still...

Harry looked over at Theo and Blaise and smiled. Theo smiled back, while Blaise just looked thoughtful and...disturbed?

“Go ahead guys,” said Blaise, “I'll catch up.” Harry shot a grateful-confused look over his shoulder at Snape as Theo pulled him away by an arm, and Blaise just looked up and met the potions master's eyes.

“What is going on here?”

Severus looked into Blaise's eyes and saw fear and determination. Apparently whatever he had to say was really important to him. “Shall we take this to my office?”

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

“Okay, so here's what I see.” Started Blaise, his voice betraying the nervousness he fought to keep off his face. “Harry comes to Hogwarts, seemingly fine. He mouths off to you during potions, humiliating and angering you. Then he gets in trouble with you during his first flying lesson, and is given detention.” Blaise looked at Snape, the nervousness in his voice giving way to growing anger as he continued, sounding far older than 11 years.

“In most such situations, the student goes to detention and it's over in a day. Instead, though, Harry avoids you like the plague for a week, going through hell and high water to avoid detention with you. Finally he gets caught, and goes to you, looking like he's facing the gallows. He's then gone for three days, you won't tell us where he is, and, when he comes back, he lies to us about where he's been, saying you've had him in detention. Now you've caught him disobeying, and the slightest anger in your voice makes him tighten up like he's trying not to cringe. What the hell is going on?”

“Language, Zabini.” Snape snapped automatically.

And just like that the eleven-year-old was back. “Sorry sir, but-”

“I do understand your concern, Mr. Zabini, however there isn't much I can do to address it. Harry's reactions to me are Harry's business, and not yours if he does not choose to share them. All I can tell you is, it is not truly me whom Harry fears.” Come on, kid. You're smart...smarter than I ever could have predicted, given your grades. Figure it out.

Blaise gave Severus a long look, then nodded stiffly. “May I be dismissed then, sir?”

“You may.”

Blaise turned to leave, relieved.

“Zabini.”

“Sir?”

“You are a good friend.”

“Thank you, sir.” Blaise left.

Interesting. Now what was I – oh. Severus got some floo powder, and fire-called the auror's office.

“Yes?”

“Might I speak with auror-trainee Tonks please?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

Harry left for his detention that evening with a certain sense of trepidation. Being outside -even for an hour – had felt amazing, but now Harry was unsure how to approach the potions master. Was the man angry that he'd snuck out? Would he punish Harry for disobeying? Why had he let Harry go? What did the man want? Damnit I don't like surprises. Well...He amended, going out was nice... Maybe, maybe, he'd be okay. If Snape was really mad, surely he wouldn't let Harry go outside when he wanted to?

Harry steeled himself as he always did, and knocked on the door. He heard the call to enter and did so, stopping by the door.

“Come here.” Severus motioned towards where Harry had previously written lines, though there was no desk there now. Harry went where he was told and stood in front of the man, with the desk between them. The potions master remained seated. I am in trouble, then. He met Snape's eyes as calmly as he could, but felt his nervousness rising as the silence dragged out.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

What could he say? He wanted to go out and didn't want to ask and didn't think it was any of Snape's business, so he went? That didn't seem like the right thing to say, somehow, with his head of house staring down at him. And he let you go out. You should have asked. This from the voice in his head that sounded surprisingly like Hermione. I don't like asking for things. And how should I know he would've let me? He didn't know how to answer the professor's question.

“Eyes up, Potter.” Ordered the potions master. Harry's focus snapped upward as he only then realized that he had let it fall to the floor. Damnit, stop acting like you're scared, or submissive. You're not. You hate Snape and he should get out of your bloody life and you don't bloody care if he yells at you or gives you more detentions or even hits you. Somehow his eyes felt really, really, heavy though. He wanted to look down, to avoid the professor's dark gaze. The man kept looking at him, just looking, and somehow that was ruddy awful.

“Nothing to say? Very well. Corner, then. Half an hour.” He pointed to the corner behind Harry, away from the door, and just ten feet from where Snape was standing.

Harry looked at Severus, then at the corner, then back at Severus, his anxiety plain.

“I will not move from this desk. Go.” Harry went, and even stood with his back to Severus for a second before turning back around. Severus looked in his eyes and saw a hint of pleading behind the attempt at a glare.

“I know you don't like it. Maybe next time you'll ask me, instead of disobeying. Turn around.” You've gotta get used to it, sometime, kid.

Harry turned around, though he felt like he was back writing lines, with Snape lurking. Snape really didn't move, so it was livable, and he didn't get as tight as he used to with Snape behind him, but the potions master was right: he didn't like it at all. Like before, he spent the first ten minutes tense, listening to what was going on behind him. Then, as the nervousness faded some, he started, despite himself, to think of how he'd gotten into this situation.

Stuck with my nose in the corner. Again. Brilliant. I'm on time-out, like a little kid. This bloody sucks. I should've known Snape'd know when I left the dorm. Probably had a bloody monitor on me or something. And why on EARTH didn't I pretend to be Ron or Hermione? They might be seen with Theo and Blaise. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Should've just asked. Harry felt his anxiety mount again at the thought alone. Okay...bad idea. Maybe not. Should've just stayed bloody cooped up...no. Maybe he was monitoring the dorm, and maybe he wasn't. Definitely should've just done a better job sneaking out. Whatever. I can definitely say this sucks.

As before, his feet were getting sore. Unlike before, so were his shoulders and back. He really didn't like having the professor behind him, and half an hour was a long time to be expected to just deal with it. He turned around and looked.

The professor was still at his desk, working on something, but when he heard Harry move he looked up, and stared at Harry expectantly. Okay, okay, I got it. Harry turned back around glumly. Maybe disobeying Snape wasn't such a good idea. But I couldn't just stay inside! I was dying! The Hermione-voice broke in again, almost mockingly. And this is so much better? Harry thought it out. No. But I just wanted to go out. Maybe he should've asked. I can't ask. Not Snape. Damnit, why does this corner thing always make me want to cry? He just wanted out of the corner so bad. The combination of boredom and anxiety and self-recrimination was just miserable.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Severus watched surreptitiously as Harry stood in the corner. The kid was clearly anxious, though thankfully not as tense as he'd been at previous detentions. He'd also obeyed with minimal argument when sent to the corner in the first place. I should keep in mind that this is a harsher punishment for him than for other students. That pleading look Harry had given him had not left Severus unaffected. He really hates this.

Finally Severus called Harry out of the corner, noticing as he did how despondent the boy seemed. Well, maybe this would cheer him up.

“I've asked someone from the Ministry to come see you, today. She should be here momentarily. I won't presume to say that you'll necessarily like her – I don't, particularly, but I think you'll find you have a lot in common, at least. I think you should get to know each other. Maybe she'll even teach you something, if you'll let her.”

Harry looked confused for a moment, then wary. Yey. More adults.

He didn't have time for more than that, though, as the floo flared and a young woman (girl?) came through. Harry relaxed marginally at her appearance. She seemed more girl than woman, almost, and her open, cheerful expression and casual clothing told him that she wasn't there to order him around. What is she here for, then? Snape said she was from the Ministry?

“Harry, this is Nymphadora Tonks, an auror-trainee from the Ministry and a Hogwarts graduate, among other things. Ms. Tonks, this is Harry Potter. I'll be in my laboratory if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape. I'm sure I'll be fine.” She smiled broadly at the perpetually-frowning professor, who glared back at her impudence. That girl never will grow up. You'd think I'd have gotten used to the cheeky brat – err – young woman - by now.

Harry watched Snape leave with an odd sense of betrayal. Now he was alone with Ms. Tonks, and still with no clue as to what she was doing there.

“Wotcher, Harry! So I hear you're a metamorphmagus!”

“A...a what?” He didn't think it was an insult, but...oh! Harry watched as the woman's (girl's?) nose lengthened, then shortened again, and her soft auburn waves changed into emerald green corkscrew curls, which were then immediately replaced with soft bubblegum-pink spikes. The girl -definitely a girl. She's got pink hair, for goodness' sake! - smiled broadly when Harry exclaimed. “Oh! Hey cool you're the same's me!”

Suddenly it occurred to Harry that he could look like whatever he wanted to at any moment – it didn't have to be a full disguise, a way to hide, it could be a statement of, well, fashion. It's not fashion, it's...looks. It is perfectly masculine to want to look good. Harry concentrated, and his own unmanageable black hair fell out, replaced by a curling black mass that reached his waist.

Tonks smiled approvingly. “That looks neat! Not the most practical, though. Use this.” She handed him a hair elastic.

“Err...” He realized he had no idea how to go about fixing his hair.

“Oh! Of course, you've never had to put your hair up before, have you?” She laughed. “Do you mind if I show you?”

At his nod, Tonks gripped Harry by the shoulders and turned him around so she could see his hair. He didn't like her behind him, I think I've had enough of that for one day, but stayed put for the moment.

“Here. What you do is you thread your hair through like this, then twist it like this and pull it through the other way. You just keep doing that until it gets tight aaand...voila!” She turned him back around, and Harry relaxed, then laughed.

“Professor Snape brought you here to teach me about hair-ties?”

Tonks laughed with him, unabashed. “Among other things. Have you figured out how to change your voice yet?”

Harry shook his head. “You can do that?”

“Sure. Just think of how you want your voice to sound, like how you'd otherwise think of how you want your face to look.”

Well that didn't sound hard. “All right.” Harry thought of Tonks' own voice, light and feminine and full of laughter, and felt the accustomed itchy, stretching feeling in his throat. He kept focused until the feeling went away, and then tried it.

“Wotcher, Tonks!” Harry startled. That's so weird! “Hey, it worked! Weird!”

Tonks laughed, to hear Harry speaking with her voice. “That is weird! But fun!” Harry dared a question.

“You haven't played around with this before?”

“Oh, sure I have, just never with another metamorphmagus. You're the only other one I know of, in fact, though I'm sure there are a couple more around.”

A couple? We're that rare? Dang. And I thought that her being here meant I wasn't as freakish as I thought.

“That's why Snape brought you here, then, 'cause we're so rare?”

“Partly. I think he thought you'd like it, honestly. I know I do! Is that how you're gonna keep your hair?”

“I dunno. I really don't like it short, but I don't know if I want it this long. Or black, actually. Can we do any color?”

“Yup. Hair doesn't have to be remotely natural, for some reason, though skin's harder to do in weird shades, maybe because it's more 'alive' than hair. You don't have to have it fall out, to change it, you know – just picture what you want to look like, without thinking too hard on how it's different from your own, and it should just switch.”

“Oh, good. That aspect was kinda gross.”

“Yeah it took me a bit to figure that one out. It's also really hard to fake anyone much bigger or smaller than yourself. I can do it, but I get tired after an hour or so. When I was littler I couldn't do it at all. I really don't know how the metamorphmagusness works, honestly. You'll have to let me know anything that you discover about it – I can't even pretend to know everything!”

“Will we see each other again, then?” Harry liked Tonks, he realized. The more he talked to her the more he realized that she wasn't an adult yet, and relaxed.

“Sure. I'll find you, next time I visit Hogwarts. You can tell me what you've done with it. Don't tell the professor I said it, but it's great for pranks. In third year I walked into the great hall looking like an live version of Binns and sat in his spot. The other professors all stared, but he didn't even notice – sat right on top of me.” She shuddered. “Never get sat on by a ghost. It's creepy.” Harry grinned. Hmm...pranks. Who would he want to mimic? He'd have to learn what they acted like, he supposed...he'd think about it. I can even do the voice, now! Neat!

Two hours later, Severus returned to find a very happy Harry Potter and Nymphadora Tonks taking turns dictating styles and looks for each other to adopt. At the moment Harry had taken on the appearance of an old hag, complete with long, dirty-looking, grizzled gray hair and a huge, warty nose, while Tonks looked on. (Either that or Harry had taken on Tonks' habitual appearance while Tonks played the witch, Severus had no real way of knowing.) This is going to be interesting.

Tonks took Severus' reappearance as her signal to leave, and returned to the Ministry, promising to visit again. Harry returned to looking like Harry, without shedding this time, and gave Snape a tiny, tentative smile.

“Thank you, sir. I do like her!”

Severus almost smiled in return. “So it would appear. Did you learn anything new?”

“Yes, sir. I can do voices now, and change my hair unnatural colors.”

“Oh, great joy. Keep in mind that colorful hair is against the school's dress code. You may play with that aspect outside of class.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well, you may go.”

Suddenly Harry realized. That was supposed to be my detention?! Well...being made to stand in a corner with Snape behind him definitely counted among the worst detentions he could think of, but that was only half an hour!

“Thank you, sir!”

“You're welcome. Now go. Go sleep.”

Harry went, happily for once. I should sneak out more often! Thought Harry jokingly, though he knew he wouldn't. Corner time was no fun, and Tonks coming during detention was the exception, not the rule. Still, though...all in all, it had been a good day. If only it could last...

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

The next day was Sunday, and Harry glumly set himself up doing his homework in the Slytherin common room. It was another beautiful day, and Harry was, for once, trying not to get in trouble. He'd played with his hair the night before and settled on thick wavy curls that grew down past his shoulder-blades but not as long as before. His facial features he'd left alone: he found it disturbing, for some reason, to leave them different for very long. He wondered if Tonks felt the same way, and remembered her idea about pranking. Who would I mimic, though?

Just then, Malfoy came in through the portrait-hole and headed upstairs, before noticing Harry and stopping to stare.

“Hey Potter – somebody slip a hair-growth potion into your pumpkin juice? You look like you attached a mop to your head!”

Harry smiled. Finally something interesting to do. “What happened to yours? Fall into a vat of bleach, did you? Or do you like the Babewatch look?” Harry realized that Malfoy wouldn't know what he was talking about. “You know, pretty Californian ponces running in slow motion to go rescue the bimbo? You'd fit right in.”

Harry- 1, Malfoy- 0! Malfoy looked pissed. “You'll pay for that, Potter. You'd think twice if you knew what my father-”

“Oh, your father, your father. You're a little old to be needing Daddy's protection, aren't you, Baywatch boy? Or are all purebloods that pathetic?”

Harry- 2, Malfoy- still 0! “There is nothing wrong with using money and power if you've got them, Potter. You'd know that if you had any. That's it – you're just jealous. Miss your own Mommy and Daddy, do you? Do you cry at night, at home with those muggles you pathetically call family? Do you want somebody to tuck you in at-”

Given the excuse he'd unconsciously sought, Harry lunged at the other boy, hitting him hard on the cheekbone and knocking him to the ground. The two rolled around on the floor, punching and kicking each other for all they were worth. Malfoy was bigger, but Harry had fought before, if only defensively. It was pretty evenly matched, all told, and Harry was having a grand time -finally, I can fight back!- when a large hand gripped the back of his neck and hauled him off Malfoy. Abruptly Harry found himself at arms length of a very angry Severus Snape.

“What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?!” He roared into Harry's face. Harry's eyes got impossibly wide as he watched the man in growing terror and started to struggle. HERE it comes. Let me go-let me go-let me GO!” Severus moved a hand and Harry panicked, breaking free to stumble back and crouch in the nearest corner with his knees into his chest, babbling as Severus had heard once before and tried to forget. “Please, please, sorry, didn't mean to-do better, sorry. I'll do better, lots better. Whatever you want, okay? Please, sorry, really sorry. Be good.”

Damn, damn, damn. What was Albus thinking to put this child in my care? Every time I think things are a going a little better...This is MY fault. How could he forget how thin the boy's facade really was?

He doused Harry with a water-spell, as before, and Harry's babbling ended with a gasp and a choke. The boy looked up briefly, long enough to take in Snape and Malfoy, before closing his eyes in horror. Not again. Please not again. Let this be a nightmare.

Malfoy had seen everything.