His curtains were still closed a few hours later when he awoke. He slid out from under the bed and dressed in his school uniform, absentmindedly patting his hair in an attempt to make it sit straight. He walked down to the common room. The clock next to his bed read five to seven when he left, so he expected students would soon be up. What he did not expect was that Severus Snape would already be awake and waiting in the common room. He seemed to have swallowed something venomous right before Harry entered the room, but schooled his expression into polite indifference within seconds.

“First up, Potter,” he drawled. “Congratulations,”

He indicated on of the seats in front of him that Harry was sure had not been there the night before. A few seconds later a bell sounded above them and voices were heard overhead. In under a minute the older students had entered the room looking immaculate, followed by the rest of Slytherin house. The first years were last and seemed to freeze under Snape’s glare.

“Well I’m glad you’re all awake,” he growled sarcastically. “Before the school year officially begins, I wanted to enforce a few matters,”

He went on to highlight school rules and customs as well as Slytherin’s role in the school. He seemed to have trouble looking directly at Harry, although this did not make much of a difference because the rest of Slytherin house were more than making up for it. Harry felt himself getting redder and redder under their persistent gazes. He wished he could just sink into the floor as the constant scrutiny seemed unending. He was glad when Snape dismissed them, although dismayed when handed a piece of parchment telling him and the other first years to attend separate interviews at allotted times. His was not until Wednesday night however, so he had plenty of time to relax and rehearse what he was going to say. He hoped he would not be tested magically, because he knew he would then fail and consequently be dismissed from Hogwarts.

At Breakfast, under Pansy’s scrutinising eyes he appeared to eat two slices of toast which actually ended up under the table. Harry was glad to see it disappear with the rest of the breakfast things; it might have looked strange otherwise. The Slytherins were handed their timetables and headed for their first subject, Charms. A small man lectured them on the basics of charms and the theory of making objects fly. Harry was interested in the lesson, although physically he was beginning to worsen. Blood seemed to be pouring down his face from open wounds, and his back felt like it was on fire. The belt buckle his Uncle had last used had been large and pointed, leaving deep marks that had become infected quickly. His body was feeling the effect of four days without food and he knew he would have to eat soon or risk collapse. If this did occur, EVERYONE would know something was wrong.

‘Lunch,’ he promised himself. ‘I’ll eat lunch,’

The sausages seemed to be screaming at him not to eat them and even without this discouragement he could not have eaten them. He nibbled potato salad instead, again insuring it appeared he ate a normal meal. He felt eyes upon him once more, but was too surprised to see it was Professor Snape watching him. He met those steely black eyes for half a second before wavering. Those eyes seemed like dark tunnels to Harry, tunnels he had no desire to get lost in.

That afternoon was Harry’s first potions class with the Gryffindors, all of whom seemed intent on glaring at him with great hostility. From the minute he walked into the classroom things started going wrong. First, his school bag disappeared entirely. Every time he took his eyes off his cauldron new ingredients were added that he hadn’t intended be put there. Bubbling violently, the cauldron exploded spraying copious amounts on potion on a nervous looking boy in front of Harry; Neville Longbottom. Professor Snape who seemed to be ignoring him completely up until then, swooped mercilessly on a boy near Harry, the red head Draco had pointed out to Harry on the train.

“WEASLEY! Forty points from Gryffindor for malicious tampering. You, Longbottom, Hospital wing before you erupt in pus filled boils,” he paused, picking up a slice of Minikas root on the floor.

“Fine slicing, Potter. 20 points to Slytherin,”

As he walked to the front of the class, his robes flaring dramatically, Harry could not help but be grateful to him…at least a little.

Again he could not sleep, although this time, not even being in an enclosed space helped. He tossed and turned under his bed for some time, realising it was hopeless. He crept out of his dormitory, taking special care to be quiet as he crossed the length of the common room. He walked up the stairs in the centre of the school until he was out of the dungeons completely. He opened a door and found himself in a room with nothing more than a window in it. He sighed and sank blissfully to the ground, watching the night sky. He remembered the first time he had seen the forbidden night sky. His uncle had locked him in the garden shed for not pruning the roses correctly, and he had been able to see the beautiful sky through a small crack in the roof. This forbidden glance had stayed with him, and as often as he could Harry had watched the sky. He was startled out of his planetary journey by sudden footsteps, and couldn’t duck out of sight before someone entered the room.

“Potter!” Severus Snape nearly shrieked, in a very uncharacteristic way. “What are you doing out of bed?!! Did I not only just go over the school rules with you and the other Slytherins only two days ago?”

Harry, who was feeling extremely hot and fevered, did not reply and merely stared at him owlishly. Severus stared back as if seeing him for the first time.

“You’ve got Lily’s eyes,” he muttered more to himself than to Harry.

“Lily?” replied Harry wistfully. “Did you know my mother then? How?”

Snape stared suspiciously at him.

“Yes, I knew her. Petunia told you nothing of her?”

“No,” said Harry, biting his bottom lip.

‘Petunia must have loved her sister after all,’ thought Severus. ‘She couldn’t bear to talk about her after her death,’

“It is not my place to take points from my own house, Potter,” he said aloud. “Back to your dormitory before another teacher comes along who is not as lenient as I,”

Still puzzling over Snape’s hot-cold attitude, Harry left thankful not to have lost the points he had only recently earned.

Tuesday passed in a blur of tiredness and pain, with Ronald Weasley glaring at him and making snide comments every time they met. Professor Snape was ignoring him again, although his new cauldron was still intact and his potions were all given high marks. This seemed regardless of quality however, as all Slytherins received decent marks in professor Snape’s classes. He supposed that all the cooking he had done for the Dursleys had given him knife skill, and the gardening basic knowledge of muggle herbs and plants. Disappointingly, Hagrid was also ignoring Harry, and had been since the welcoming feast. Harry had called after him before a transfiguration class one day, only to see Hagrid turn and grimace when he saw who called him. It seemed everyone was against him simply because he was in Slytherin house. He wondered how different things would have been if he had been placed in a different house.

Before he knew it, Wednesday had come around and he was standing outside Snape’s door knocking politely. After hearing an answer from within, he entered. Shuddering at the sight on many dead things in jars, he sat in the available seat and watched Snape who had not glanced up when he entered. After perching nervously on the edge of his seat for a few minutes, Snape finally spoke.

“So, Potter,” he said the word Potter as if it pained him deep inside. “How are you finding Slytherin house and Hogwarts in general so far?

Harry considered his answer carefully, deciding to take the Slytherin approach.

“Well apart from the fact that everyone stares at me like I’ve got two heads, it’s good,”

Snape gaped at him, perhaps not expecting such a brutally honest answer.

“Well, you are the saviour of the wizarding world after all. These children have grown up knowing your name,”

This was not a response Harry wanted to hear.

“I am not!” he nearly shouted angrily. “I am not the saviour of the wizarding world. I can’t protect any one, and I don’t know why people would think I could. I can’t even protect myself!”

Harry visibly paled after this last remark; all his careful planning was for nothing, he had exposed himself. Tensing, he sprang from his chair and bolted towards than door. Severus got there before him however, and grasped Harry’s arm sharply by the wrist. Harry cried out like a wounded animal and wrenched himself free, escaping out the door. Severus made to go after him, before pausing and staring down at his normally pale hand. Why was it covered in blood?