Two faces peered up from their work; while Harry’s countenance was fearful, Draco’s was twisted into what he seemed to think was an expression of honest bewilderment.

“But, Sir, we work so much better this way” said Draco in an ingratiating voice “Harry’s simply brilliant at the knife-work- look at how finely he’s diced, not sliced but properly diced, the root- and I’m very good at composing the actual potions. They’re the most perfect shade of azure, just as the textbook says they should be!”

“I suppose I’ll just have to write to the exam board, then, and tell them that you and Harry must complete your exams together, as you obviously can’t bear to be apart.” Replied Severus, quirking an elegant, sable eyebrow. On the workbench behind them, Blaise and Theo snorted into their cauldrons. The bushy-haired girl- Harry had heard that she was a muggleborn called Hermione- glared disdainfully and turned away, her nose in the air.

“Until I have the Governors affirmative, however,” drawled Severus, “you will work separately. To master potions, one needs both knowledge and practical skill: palming off half the task on each other will stand you both in bad stead when you have to work alone.”

Harry looked crestfallen. Sharing the work with Draco had seemed such a good idea at the time but now they’d disappointed Professor Snape.

Seeing Harry’s anguish, Severus felt a bit of a heel, which was darn inconvenient, not to mention nonsensical: at least he’d had a genuine reason today, he wasn’t being a bastard just because he felt like it, as was so often the case.

To relieve his discomfort, Severus continued; “However, your approach to your work shows maturity and good management. Harry is, indeed, very skilled in ingredient preparation and Draco is a consummate potioneer. Five points to Slytherin.”

As Harry and Draco, with gleeful expressions on their faces- set up their individual work-stations, a red-haired gangly boy turned to his chubby neighbour “It’s so unfair, Snape always favours the slimy Slytherins.”

“He did have a reason, though, Ron.” replied the round-faced boy nervously “They’ve almost finished their potion and we’re only half-way through.”

Hermione smirked at Ron: her potion was also bright azure blue. Ron stuck his tongue out at her and turned back to the plump boy. “Honestly, Nev. Whose side are you on?”

oOoOo

“Ah! Our first flying lesson's after lunch!” grinned Draco, rubbing his hands together. “I can’t wait to get back on a broom. At home, I fly almost every day.”

Harry helped himself to a chicken kiev, some green beans and a baked potato. Over the last two days, the Slytherin table had seen less stews, casseroles, large pies and hotpots and more stuff like this: large pieces of meat, individual pies and chunky vegetables. Harry always tried to choose the smallest portions but it was so difficult: even the sausages came on strings of three, as opposed to individually!

“Is flying hard?” Harry asked.

“Depends. Some of us, like me for example, are naturals. We fly before we can walk. Others don’t find it so easy, unfortunately.” replied Draco.

“I bet I suck at it.” said Harry sadly.

“Got to suck at something, Harry” said Theo, a slender, rusine boy, philosophically. He made a careful incision in his chicken and watched the garlic butter bleed out onto his potato. “I suck at Herbology- once managed to kill a resurrection plant- Draco sucks at History of Magic- he can scarcely remember his date of birth- Blaise sucks at being macho” Theo ducked as Blaise threw a bread roll at his head, “not to mention basic table manners. Let’s face it Harry, if you didn’t suck at something, you’d be annoying.”

“Fascinating, Theo,” drawled Pansy “I notice you didn’t mention any of us girls” she fluttered her eyelashes, obviously waiting for a compliment.

“Girls are annoying anyway” said Theo, taking a slurp of his pomegranate squash.

Pansy puffed up like an irate cockerel.

“Theo also sucks at self-preservation” laughed Blaise. “He’s not worth it, Pansy. Wait till his balls drop and he’ll be singing a different tune.”

“Course, you could always kick ‘em in.” guffawed Crabbe.

“His singing would be different enough then.” added Goyle.

“Boys! Barbarians the lot of them!” exclaimed Tracy to Daphne, glaring at Pansy and Millicent, who were choking back giggles.

oOoOo

“Hey, Malfoy! I think your girlfriend can find her own broom!” taunted Ron. His cronies, a sandy-haired, Irish boy and a black London lad chucked appreciatively.

Draco looked up from the stack of Cleansweeps, Comets and Mosquitoes, where he had been pointing out to Harry how to spot a flawed broom.

“Don’t pay any attention to that buffoon, Harry.” Draco said, sneering “See that red hair? He’s a Weasley; common as muck, all of them.”

Ron’s face surpassed red and went straight to purple. Luckily, at that moment, Madam Hooch walked over.

“Come on, boys, no lollygagging. Pick a broom and get lined up.”

As Harry turned to leave, he noticed that Hermione and Neville, who had been standing near them, trying to- unobtrusively- listen in to Draco’s lecture, were still standing beside the pile of brooms, looking at the sticks as if they would bite them. He nudged Draco.

“Oh all right!” said Draco, in a put upon voice. “Look, girl, that one there’s twigs are all the relatively straight and more or less the same length. It won’t list to the side too much. There’s another one over there which looks half decent. Come on, Harry, let’s get over to the pitch.”

“Thank you” said Hermione quietly.

“Yeah, thanks.” added Neville, looking at Malfoy with appraising eyes.

oOoOo

“Up!” commanded Harry, with equal hope and despair in his voice. The Broom smacked into the palm of his hand.

“I did it!” Harry exclaimed ecstatically. Draco, his own broom hovering beside him, smiled indulgently.

“Harry, you’re annoying, you know that?” called Theo, grinning.

“Our own resident genius” added Blaise, putting his hands over his heart with mock adoration.

Harry blushingly smiled.

“Those Slytherins are such a bunch of fags” said Ron, loudly: Madam Hooch, helping students at the other end of the line, being safely out of earshot.

“Just because you’re jealous, Weasley” smirked Blaise, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Eww, gross!”

“Now, children,” said Madam Hooch, striding to the centre of the pitch. I want you to mount your brooms and hover. Just hover. If anyone of you goes over a meter, it’ll be detention.” She turned a steely eye on the knot of Slytherin and Gryffindor boys.

Harry had just got himself comfortable on his broom when he heard a wail. Neville, the round-faced boy, had shot up like a comet and was accelerating fast.

“Get down here, boy!” yelled Madam Hooch.

“Help!” screamed Neville.

Harry looked on in horror as the poor boy slipped off the still accelerating broom. Madam Hooch grabbed her wand and hastily cast a spell which seemed to slow his decent but Neville still landed with a sickening crunch.

“Nasty” whispered Blaise to Theo.

Madam Hooch rushed over to Neville and, after casting a few spells, helped him up. He was white in the face and seemed to be in pain.

“Broken wrist. Nothing worse, though nasty enough, you poor boy” the witch said distractedly, as she lead Neville past the worried flock of students. “You’re all to stay here. No one, I repeat no one is to even touch a broom.”

“Hey, look, Seamus” said Weasley, turning to the sandy-haired boy. He picked up a small red ball. “Nev dropped something”

“Didn’t do much good for him, did it” said the Seamus. “It should’ve reminded him not to trust Slytherins. Bet they hexed his broom.”

“No we didn’t” snapped Harry “We’d never do something like that!”

“As if we can believe you, traitor!” replied Weasley.

“Harry’s not a traitor!” said Theo, his expression darkening “You and your kind are the traitors.”

“I think we should chuck it in the lake, Ron” said Seamus. “We don’t owe Nev anything. He’s not really one of us.”

“No!” the bushy-haired Hermione cried, trying to grab the ball from Weasley “It was a present from his grandmother.

Everything happened so fast from that point; Weasley pushed Hermione and she fell over, Harry leapt at Weasley, Seamus tried to punch Harry, Draco succeeded in punching Seamus, Crabbe and Goyle shoved Seamus and Weasley’s other crony away from the fray whilst Blaise sneered at the Gryffindor girls who had tried to pick on the now crying Hermione, who was being comforted by Daphne.

“Just what is happening here?” drawled a too-familiar, silky baritone.

oOoOo

“Gentlemen, I commend you. It seems, I have a little nest of Wadjets this year.” Severus smirked at the quivering group of first years assembled in his office. “Such knight errantry in the defence of a fair lady is highly commendable. However” he paused significantly “you are not knights, you are students. What, Mr Potter, should you have done when Mr Weasley assaulted Ms Granger?”

“Dunno Sir.” whispered Harry, looking at his feet.

“Mr. Malfoy?”

“We should have gone to find a Professor, sir.” replied Draco, looking crestfallen.

“Indeed you should, Mr Malfoy. And now I am in quite a quandary. You have not only thoroughly broken the Hogwarts rules of acceptable behaviour by assaulting your contemporaries, you have broken the Slytherin rule of Decorum by flinging your fists around like muggles in a bar-room brawl.”

Harry flinched. Oh, they were in for it now. Did Hogwarts have the cane, like St. Brutus’? Aunt Petunia’s rule was five lashes for a minor offence. Professor Snape thought that they had committed two serious offences!

“And yet, you, in defending Ms Granger, also upheld the rule of Decorum and, by protecting each other, fully complied with the rule of House Unity.”

Severus smiled “I really feel that I have no other choice than to award you each five points” several faces looked up at him, their eyes gleaming with joyful surprise.

“And set you each an individual detention with me one night this week. I cannot have it said that I endorse the breach of Hogwarts rules.” Harry’s eyes filled with fear and it did not take a legilimens to guess why.

“On your allocated night, you will bring your textbooks and homework” continued Severus “If there is a subject that you find particularly arduous, then, time permitting, I suggest you save your homework for you detention, as I will be on hand to help you.”

Harry sighed with relief.

“Mr. Potter, as you cast the first blow, you will have the first detention. Tonight, my office, seven-thirty. He’ll have half an hour for your supper so don’t look at me like that Mr Malfoy.” drawled Severus, resisting the urge to smile: Draco was treating Harry like an injured puppy.

“Sorry Sir” said Draco cheerfully.

“Dismissed. And please try not to get into any more trouble today.”

OoOoO

Harry knocked on Professor Snape’s office door at precisely seven-twenty-nine. Harry knew that people didn’t like it if he was too early- they did not want to endure his presence longer than necessary- but, if he knocked on the exact minute, he was almost late and ‘almost’… well, a miss is as bad as a mile.

“Enter.”

Harry opened the door of the ‘creepy office’, as he had privately dubbed it and saw Professor Snape standing in the doorway of his nice office. Harry smiled shyly and followed the Potions Master into the bright, cosy room.

When he got there, however, he was aghast to see Madam Pomfrey sitting in an armchair. This was not good, not good at all.

“Harry, dear, come and sit over here” Said the Mediwitch in a gentle voice.

“I’m really clumsy!” Harry jerked out “I trip over my feet all the time and I’m always spilling hot drinks on myself.” Why had he said it like that? It sounded dead suspicious!

“Mr Potter, please sit.” said Severus, pointing to a chair. Harry lowered himself into the warm leather gingerly, looking all the while like a rabbit in the headlights.

“You will never be returning to Privet Drive again, nor will you ever see your aunt, unless you specifically wish to do so.” Severus pulled a long scroll out from his robes. “This is an edict signed by, one, Professor Dumbledore, in his dual-capacities as Headmaster and Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, two, the Head of the Board of Govenors, three, by Madam Pomfrey, the resident Wizarding Child-Services representative, and, four, by me, your Head of House. You are now, officially a Ward of Hogwarts and no one, not even the Minister of Magic, can force you to return to your Aunt, even for a minute. Do you understand me?”

Harry’s eyes were glazed. It was too much to take in. He’d never have to return to Privet Drive, never have to see his aunt again.

“But where will I live?”

“Here, in Hogwarts Harry. Where we can keep you safe and see that no one hurts you ever again.” Poppy said softly.

“Aunt Petunia, she always… they always believe her. Never listen to me. She says I’m a liar.”

“Harry, look at me.” said Professor Snape. “Last night, I and another Professor visited your Aunt. We gave her a potion that made her tell the truth. She couldn’t lie to us. She confessed everything.”

“What if they don’t believe you?” whimpered Harry. Nice Miss Jones had believed him and, one morning soon after, she hadn’t turned up at school. Rumour had it that she’d been sacked.

“If ‘they’ don’t believe me, then ‘they’ can give her some truth potion and hear it for themselves.” Severus replied softly. “But whether ‘they’ believe me or not no longer matters; this decree is unbreakable. No one can overrule or change it, Harry. No one.”

Harry gulped, he was trembling. It was too good to be true. Freaks like him didn’t deserve this.

Severus summoned his teapot, some cups and a sugar-basin. The tea-set was his personal favourite; the pot itself was a handsome, black enamelled affair, with delicate gilding, and each tea-cup was a different, jewel-like colour. It had been a wedding gift from his father to his mother. He selected his favourite, absinthe green tea-cup and filled it with tea and added a couple of teaspoons of sugar. He tapped the cup, casting a mild cooling charm “Here, Harry.”

Harry took the saucer and bowed his head, tears splashing into his tea. He was safe. He was truly safe. His Aunt could never touch him again.

Madam Pomfrey stood up and carefully approached the sobbing child, she took the saucer out of his unresisting hands and, slowly, gently, as one would with a scared and injured animal, took him into her arms, rocking him slowly. Harry stiffened, then relaxed into her embrace and wept with wild abandon.

Professor Snape summoned a large chocolate gateau. The Potions Master was not a man accustomed to giving or receiving comfort and, therefore, found situations such as this uncomfortable. However, as Basilisk, he had a duty to nurture his snakelets and, occasionally, it fell to him to dry tears, sooth ruffled feelings and stick a metaphorical plaster on bruised hearts. Over the years he had found that food, in particular cake, was generally a decent distraction from even the most pressing of children’s woes. Food equals energy equals warmth and, when a child felt their life unravelling, a bit of warmth generally didn’t go amiss. When the violence of Harry’s distress had faded, Severus cut the boy a large slice.

“Come on, Harry, have a bit of cake, there’s a lad.” said Poppy, handing him a fork. “Severus, I mean Professor Snape would really like some cake but, as he’s your host, he can’t start on a piece until you do.”

Harry gave a watery smile and took a mouthful of squidgy icing.

“And now some tea.”

By the time that Harry had finished his cake and tea, his breathing had calmed and, judging by his embarrassed expression, he had gained his senses.

“The lavatory’s behind the door next to the picture of the snakes, Harry. You will feel better if you wash your face.”

When Harry had traipsed into the lavatory, Severus poured Poppy a cup of tea and patted her on the shoulder, looking sympathetic. They had been through similar situations before; thankfully, it was a rare occurrence but, Severus felt, however often one had to do this office, it wouldn’t get any easier. He strode over to his desk and took out three vials of Snape’s Serum. It was one of the first potions he’d invented- hence the egotistical title- designed to ward off the stress headaches to which the young Severus had been prone.

Severus gave one vial to Madam Pomfrey. She smiled sadly and clinked her vial against his. “Bottoms up, Severus. Here’s to never having to do this again.”
Severus nodded and swallowed his own vial. As he did so, Harry came out of the lavatory, looking shy and very conscious.

“Come, Mr. Potter. We have a couple of things still to discuss.” Severus said in a neutral tone, waving Harry into a seat.

“Firstly, Mr. Potter, I would like you to take this potion” Severus held up the vial “It contains a headache reliever.”

“Yes Sir” Harry gratefully took the vial and swallowed it. If he cried, he always got really bad headaches.

Oh God. He had just bawled in Madam Pomfrey’s arms. In front of Professor Snape.

“You know, Mr. Potter, if I had a Galleon for every time a child cried in this office, I could gild Hogwarts seven times over.” Severus said gently. “I have had Seventh Years, boys of seventeen, weep in here and often for much less reason than you.”

“Your tears are a natural, Harry,” added Madam Pomfrey “You have no reason to feel ashamed.”

Harry looked down at his knees “It wasn’t so bad, you know. I mean, I had food and Aunt Petunia didn’t hit me all the time. And the chores, well, someone had to do them and, as Aunt Petunia was paying so much to keep me, I had to repay her somehow, right.”

Poppy’s mouth thinned and her hands bunched up in her lap. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Mr Potter, she should not have hit you at all." said Professor Snape firmly "Anyone who is violent towards children is behaving reprehensibly and no one, for any reason, should hit a child hard enough to leave a mark. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” replied Harry quietly. He couldn’t help but think, however, that a few times he had deserved it. Like when he mistook his aunt’s orchids for weeds. That had been naughty, right? And how about when he burnt the breakfast, wasting food. Or that time he’d knocked over the vase. He shouldn’t have been so thoughtless and clumsy.

“Moreover,” continued Severus “your Aunt was paid a substantial amount of money by the Ministry of Magic, to cover your food and other needs. However, had she not been paid a knut, she should still have given you three full meals a day and allowed you to sleep in a proper bed.”

Harry glanced up, his cheeks burning with shame.

Severus’s dark eyes narrowed “You have no cause to be embarrassed, Mr Potter. The shame is entirely your Aunt’s.”

“It’s not her fault if she couldn’t love me.” Harry whispered with tears in his eyes “I’m a nasty, little, scrawny unnatural thing. Not like Dudley. And I’m bad luck. My parents died because of me. And uncle Vernon.”

“Your parents died, Harry, because an evil man decided to kill them.” Professor Snape said, in a tone which would brook on opposition. “Your Uncle died because a lorry driver, stupidly, decided to drive his vehicle whilst drunk and lost control at the wheel. Neither event had anything to with you.”

“And” said Madam Pomfrey “You were an adorable baby, Harry. Your parents loved you, as did all the staff when your Mum and Dad visited Hogwarts to show you off. They were so proud of you.”

“Your Uncle also loved you.” Severus added softly “Your Aunt told me so last night. Petunia was the unnatural one. No normal person could or would treat any child like that.”

Harry blinked rapidly, desperately trying not to cry.

“Oh, don’t bottle it up, dear boy.” Said Madam Pomfrey, kneeling down and putting her arms around Harry. “Let it out. Let it all out.”