Harry sped down the hallway and around the corner. He had to get away. He had to run as fast as his short legs would get him. Three bigger boys, sixth year Ravenclaws by the look of them were chasing Harry down.  With whoops and shouts they had all but caught up to him when Harry hit the floor and rolled under their feet, effectively tripping them. Scurrying to his feet Harry turned down a different hallway that led to the foyer. He was at the beginnings of the dungeons when Professor Snape came into view. Harry smiled, never happier to see his most hated professor. He knew the man hated him, but he also knew that he wouldn’t let the group of boys hurt him. No, if anyone was going to hurt Harry it would be Snape himself. Strangely Harry was okay with that. He opened his mouth, and felt hands on his shirt hauling him back. He screamed, “Professor Snape!” And the boys whipped him around the corner and slammed him against the wall.

            “Shut up you little filthy little Slytherin,” A boy with dirty blonde hair growled slapping Harry hard on the cheek.

            “I’m not a Slytherin,” Harry growled kicking the boy only to be hit in the stomach by a big burly boy with a twisted nose and long brown hair. Harry groaned and bent over.

            “No but you should have been.” The third boy hissed, slapping Harry on the other side of his face, “But you fooled the sorting hat, didn’t you? Just like a nasty little Slytherian.”

            “Leave me alone!” Harry yelled desperate to get away from these goons. He was having Dudley flash backs, and between those memories and the actually present Harry was about to have a full on panic attack. He saw the blonde boy pull his arm back, ready to sock him in the nose, when a tall thin man with a hooked nose and shoulder length greasy black hair growled, “What do we have here? A bunch of unruly Ravenclaws, beating a poor defenseless Gryffindor second year?”

            Harry heaved a sigh of relief as the boys let go. He slid gratefully to the floor clutching his stomach. Harry coughed suddenly, blood soaking his lips and hands. Professor Snape’s eyes widened in shock and he growled at the gang of boys, “Thirty points from Ravenclaw and detention with Flich for two weeks.” Looking at Harry with concern he growled, “Get out of my sight!” The boys were gone in a flash not even wasting time with looking at Snape over their shoulders.

            Narrowing his eyes Snape kneeled in front of Harry and snapped, “What happened boy?”

            “They ganged up on me as soon as I left the library,” Harry replied with a groan. His stomach hurt so much.

            “Why?” Snape asked with a sneer, “Why would anyone gang up on the Golden boy of Gryffindor?”

            “Haven’t you heard Professor,” Harry answered with a sneer of his own, “I talk to snakes. Oh the horror!”

            Snape glared at Harry and bit the inside of his cheek. He would not laugh. He did not laugh in front of students. It would imply that he was human, and he did not need anyone claiming that.

            “Watch your cheek Potter,” Snape growled as he helped the boy to his feet, “Where are your things?”

            “I don’t know,” Harry replied with a groan, “I dropped them somewhere along the way. They just held me back. Those boys have almost caught me a bunch of times.”

            “Well come on then,” Snape sighed irritably, “I’ll get you to the Hospital Wing. Then I’ll find your things. No doubt Flitch has them by now.”

            “Thank you sir,” Harry said gratefully leaning on Snape for support. His stomach really, really hurt, “Those boys coulda killed me.”

            Snape grunted trying to hide the shock that Potter actually thanked him. The boy had never done that before. Harry was trying to hide the pleased look that was growing on his face, but he couldn’t. For some odd reason Snape, the man that hated Harry for some insane reason, made him feel safe. Safer then Harry had ever felt. Or at least safer then Harry had been feeling since he realized he was a Parslemouth.

            Ever since the Dueling Club fiasco Harry had been jumped several times; it had gotten so bad that the twins were taking to escorting Harry everywhere, even to the loo. Hufflepuffs would glare at him. Gryffindors would tease and make fun of him. A few older boys had caught him in the loo and threatened him. Ravenclaws and Slytherins were jumping him. It was really out of hand; so out of hand that the Hufflepuffs were actually winning this year’s House Cup since they were the only ones not actually tormenting Harry. The only people willing to be seen with him were the twins, who thought talking to snakes was a big laugh, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Wood, and Ginny when she was around. Nobody else particularly liked Harry anymore. The team put up with him because they wanted to win the cup, and they were afraid that Wood would kill them if they ignored Harry like they did last year. Plus the twins would beat them with their beater sticks if they did.

            If all of that wasn’t bad enough Lockheart was starting to become weird around Harry. He would stare at him for long moments with the most curious look in his eyes. It was almost a hungry look and Harry was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable with it. He never did it in class. Oh no, he was too busy preening for his fan club. It was when they were alone, during detentions, which for some reason he kept getting from Lockheart, that he was creepy. Harry wondered if he wasn’t the one that was petrifying everyone. Still he knew to keep on the look out.  All in all, this was turning into a horrible yea, even worse then the last one.

            Snape winced as he saw a huge bruise forming on Harry cheeks. He didn’t particularly like the boy, but he knew better then to think that he was the Heir of Slythern. All of this was nonsense. Nonsense that wasn’t going away, no matter how hard Dumbledore was trying to make it, and to be fair he wasn’t trying very hard. He left all of the hard work up to the teachers, Snape even had to take away points from his own House to make sure they would not play this new game called, “Harry Hunting” that Mr. Malfoy wanted to play. He knew only bad could come from that. Severus always said that Potter could use a lesson in humility, but he never wanted the boy to learn this way. No…this was cruel even for Snape.

            “Poppy!” Snape hollered as they came into the Hospital Wing, “Potter!”

            “Again!” Poppy hollered stomping toward them, “I swear if I catch who ever keeps doing this…” She trailed off when she saw how white the boy was.

            “Where does it hurt love?” Poppy asked helping him into a bed. She was in instant Healer mood,

            “My stomach,” Harry replied coughing up some more blood.

            “I need to go and get Potter’s things,” Snape replied with a sigh. Potter was starting to make him feel uncomfortable. “He discarded them in a mad dash from the gang of boys.”

            Poppy nodded not really listening and Snape growled to himself, he hated being ignored.

            Later Snape trudged back to the Hospital wing, he had managed to find all of Harry’s belongs, he hoped, and was going to drop them off. He was actually starting to feel sorry for the boy. He wanted the boy to stop basking in the glow of his celebrity, not beaten to a bloody pulp.

            He walked in the Hospital wing trying to be quiet so as not to startle Poppy or the boy. He tried not to focus on how much his attitude had changed toward Potter. He was actually feeling something other then hate and it was disturbing him. He halted suddenly when he saw Lockheart hovering over the boy. He was looking pinched and worried and Harry was faking sleep. He rolled his eyes at Lockheart’s apparent worry, but then something flashed across the blonde’s man face that made Severus uncomfortable for Harry. He couldn’t pinpoint that look though and he made a lot of commotion.

            “Get out of here Lockheart,” Snape growled as he stalked towards the boy’s bed, “I don’t want to have to save you from Poppy when she sees that you are disturbing one of her patients.”

            Lockheart jumped and gave Harry a guilty look before he all but ran out of the Infirmary. He never even said one word to Snape. Severus found that he liked it that way.

            “I know you are not a sleep boy,” Snape growled as he laid Harry’s things down, ‘I have your things. You need to make sure nothing was taken.”

            Harry nodded quietly and went though his things. Faintly Harry said, “Everything is there.”

            “Good,” Snape growled. Seeing the boys pale face Severus growled, “What happened?”

            “Nothing,” Harry replied glancing at the door, “I don’t think Professor Lockheart was in his right mind. You might want to check on him.”

            “What did he do?” Snape asked. God, the boy was having a hard enough time from the students; he did not need the teachers to gang up on him too.

            “Nothing,” Harry replied suddenly, uneasiness written all over his features. Taking a breath he said, “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it Professor.” Giving Severus a shy smile Harry said, “Thanks for getting my things for me. I hope it wasn’t that much trouble?”

            “It wasn’t,” Severus found himself saying. This new Harry was hard to swallow. Why didn’t he just yell at the boy for getting into the scrap in the first place? Why didn’t he make a fuss about the bag? Glaring at the boy who, he found, was making him go soft he snipped, “Next time I hope you remember to stay with your bodyguards.” Harry just nodded and Severus stalked out of the hospital wing without another word. Okay so maybe he wasn’t as soft as he feared.

Harry watched his safety net leave the infirmary and felt his stomach drop. He would be staying the night, and while he knew nobody dared attack him in the infirmary he was still nervous. Snape was the only teacher other then McGonagall that could get the students to leave him alone. Strangely though Snape was the only teacher that inspired such safety within Harry, he was surprised and confused to admit. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that despite Snape’s obvious dislike he would never mean Harry physical harm, unlike the people around him. Plus he was tall, scary, and mean. Nobody would mess with Harry while Snape was around, including Lockheart.

Harry was sure that there was something wrong with the blonde man. He had seemed so worried and was mumbling about Harry being important to him and that he was worried. He wasn’t talking to Harry though; Lockheart had been talking to himself. There had been something in there about him not telling Harry something…it had been weird and Lockheart had been looking at him in that way. Maybe he would tell Snape about it and let him sort the blonde man out. He knew that Snape would, he had seen the oddness for himself. Harry knew that above all else Snape would protect Harry, even if he didn’t like him. Sighing Harry rolled over and went to sleep, hoping that tomorrow was a better day.

Harry felt tired. People were glaring at him again. Sometimes his soul curled upon itself and wanted nothing more than to hide. The need to run and run and never look back was so strong that he actually could feel the wind in his hair. He closed his eyes and dreamed of that calm place he visited in the dead of night. That place where Harry could just sit and listen to the wind blow through the trees. That place where nobody bothered him. Opening his eyes he found Ron and Hermione giving him a worried look. Harry smiled back tiredly. He was so tired of showing a brave face. He wanted nothing more than to rage and scream against the injustice of it all. He couldn’t help that he could talk to snakes. How dare they blame him for something that was not his fault, but an accident of birth? Besides didn’t they have enough faith in him that he would never hurt a living soul, especially a defenseless cat?

Looking at the clock Harry said, “I need to get to Lockheart’s detention.”

“How did you get another detention mate?” Ron asked with exasperation.

“I breathe don’t I?” Harry asked bitterly. A couple of boys laughed and pointed at the trio and Harry closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. Sometimes it didn’t pay to get up in the morning.           

Hermione looked away from Harry, but not before he saw a tear slide down her cheek. Smiling Harry took her hand and squeezed it to show he was okay. How anyone could think he was the Heir of Slytherin when he had such a friend as Hermione were crazy. This whole school was crazy.

Harry shuffled down the hall, hoping that nobody decided he would make a good punching bag. When he made it inside Lockheart’s office, Harry felt relieved, but that was short lived. He glanced up and saw that hungry thrilled look in Lockheart’s eyes and he felt a sick feeling in his stomach. Two hours of that look was going to drive Harry to distraction and madness. He couldn’t stand it anymore. All of this unwanted attention was going to make him lose his mind.

He sat down in a desk opposite of Lockheart. The man still hadn’t told him what he wanted him to do. That made Harry decidedly uncomfortable. Finally Lockheart smiled at Harry and said, “I want you to help me sort though all of this mail Harry. What do you say?”

Harry nodded and Lockheart patted his hand on the seat next to him, behind his desk. The sick feeling returned when the hungry look in Lockheart’s eyes deepened. It was almost a gleeful look. Harry felt like he had to throw-up but he swallowed instead and took the seat. An hour passed with Harry becoming even more uncomfortable by the minute. He was so uncomfortable that he was shivering and shaking. He just wanted to go back to his dorm and die in a heap on his bed. Maybe hide somewhere in the dudgeons, if he could get past the entrance to Slytherin common room. Suddenly Lockheart said, “Are you cold Harry?”

Harry shifted nervously and said, “No sir.”

“Harry,” Lockeheart said standing and giving Harry a reproving look, “Do not lie just so I will not make a fuss.”

He took off his cloak and Harry stiffened as Lockheart placed it around Harry’s small shoulders. It smelled of a spicy after shave and it made him dizzy.

“Feel better?” Lockheart purred, in a low husky voice. He was behind Harry now, rubbing his hands up and down Harry’s arms in a way that could be taken as a way to help with the cold, but Harry knew better. Harry felt a panic attack come on and he wanted nothing more than to run away, far far away.

“Calm down Harry,” Lockheart cooed in his ear, “We’ll get you warmed up soon, don’t worry.”

            Harry opened his mouth to assure the man that he wasn’t cold and he shouldn’t worry himself when a loud bell rang throughout the office. Lockheart sighed, and Harry felt the tension leave his body. He could leave!

            “Well…that’s it I suppose,” Lockheart said with a bemused expression, “Try to stay out of trouble Harry.”

            “Yes sir,” Harry replied biting back the retort that he was minding his own business when he was given the detention. Harry took off and handed Lockheart his cloak and all but ran out the door. He made it back to the Tower in record time, trying not to shake. He didn’t want anyone to know what almost happened. It was too unreal to even think about, besides…it wasn’t like anyone would believe him. Not even the teachers would believe something like that.

            Severus was sitting in his rooms reading a book, or rather trying to. His mind kept going back to Lockehart’s face in the infirmary. He had seen that expression before, but on someone else’s face, but he could not place it. Gritting his teeth in frustration he threw down his book and began to pace. He could not ignore Potter’s situation, so very like his own had been. The only difference was that Potter had good friends standing by his side, and for that he was grateful. The Weasleys were good people and Granger was slowly worming her way into his good graces. Snape sighed and hung his head. This worry was starting to get on his nerves. If he didn’t know any better he would say that he almost cared for the boy.

            Harry ran down the hallway and skid in front of the DADA class room. The door was shut and he could hear Lockheaert lecturing on the other side. This was bad. If he walked in there he would lose points, and worse he would get detention. He did not want to get detention. If last night was an indicator he was not going to like his punishment, not at all. But there was nothing for it. There was no one he could go to, nothing he could do. Lockeheart could quite literally, have his way with him and no one would ever care, or believe him. Not even Ron and Hermione would believe him. They tended to believe in adults too much. Holding back the tears he put his hand on the door knob, and then a Slytherin idea came to him. He had potions next, and all he would have to do was get detention. Lockheart would not be able to give him detention for a long time, not if he did something so bad that Snape would go crazy. He knew that Snape would never hand him off to anyone else, preferring to punish Harry himself. Snape worked rather hard to instill inside Harry a work ethic; he would literally implode if he knew the truth. While he despised Snape, he almost didn’t want to burst his bubble. Almost….he would much rather have Snape off his back.

Shaking his head Harry made his way to the dungeons and sat outside Snape’s class door. He would wait and finish his homework. An hour and a half passed and he was finished. He laid his head against the cool wall when Snape opened the door. He stopped short at the door and narrowed his eyes.

“What are you doing Mr. Potter,” Snape asked with ice in his voice.

“I’m waiting for your class to start,” Harry said promptly.

“And why are you not in your first class?” Snape growled.

Harry smirked and said with a very pompous voice, “Lockeheart is an idiot.”

Now, Snape was caught in-between amusement that Potter picked up on it and fury that Potter sounded just like his father. Still, the boy had a point.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for not being in your first class,” Snape growled he was about to turn around when he snapped, “Get inside!”

Shocked Harry gathered his things and all but ran inside. He sat at his workstation and puzzled over Snape’s reaction. He knew Snape hated disrespect, and he had disrespected a Professor….so why wasn’t Snape angry?

“While I agree that Lockeheart is an idiot,” Snape snapped. Oh…that was why he just took points, “You are to go to his class. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Harry replied with a sigh. He knew he had to, but he just couldn’t make himself not think about Lockeheart’s smooth hand’s on his shoulders…rubbing them in that way…it caused him to have nightmares that kept his year mates up, that caused them to exact revenge: namely drowning him with putrid water.

“Now….we have ten minutes,” Snape growled, “Take this time to finish any assignment for your classes today.

“I already did,” Harry replied quietly. Snape looked at him in surprise and said, “Very well then, shut-up and I don’t say a word.”

“Yes sir,” Harry replied very respectfully. He needed a Plan B.

            Ten minutes later the students started pouring in. Hermione and Ron made a bee line to Harry and Severus couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the boy had excellent friends. Granger looked like she wanted to hurl and Ron was looking worried. They must have been quite anxious.

            Harry shook his head and pointedly looked at his text book. About halfway into the ten minutes Potter had taken out his Potions and book and stared looking for something in it. Now usually Snape would be thrilled, but he had seen a glint in his eye that would undoubtedly prove to make this morning unpleasant.

            Harry hated to do it. He really wanted to find another way, but there wasn’t one. Harry was a desperate little boy and he did what he believed he had to do. He knew, deep down in his heart of hearts that he would hate himself for this. After all Snape had done for him yesterday… he was to repay him this way. It was selfish, but Harry didn’t want to be punished in that way. He would rather die at the hands of Voldemort.

            He had done his homework. He knew that the bezor would create an explosion, but do nothing else. The potion would be harmless, messy, but harmless. For this Harry was grateful or he would have to come up with a Plan C.  Looking at Malfoy, he found that the boy was concentrating on his work for once. Casually, so casually that not even Hermione nodded Harry pitched the bezor. The classroom was filled with a loud BOOM, and harmless green goo slashed the students. Harry sighed and looked at the floor. Doing his best to look guilty, he hung his head and hoped it worked.

            “WHO DID THAT!” Snape screamed. Snape on his part knew who it was. He was looking guilty, extremely guilty, horrible guilty… too guilty. Was the boy actually trying to look guilty?

            “Potter,” Snape growled in his soft silky voice. The class learned long ago that the softer Snape’s voice got, the more dangerous the man really was.

“Did you explode Mr. Malfoy’s cauldron?”

             Taking a deep breath Harry wined, “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to ruin Malfoy’s potion, not make it explode.”

            Snape blinked, and almost took a step back. Snape had heard Potter yell, scream, sneer, rage, growl, and even curse, but never wine. In fact that was the one thing Snape could count on that Potter would never do, yet here the boy was winning just like a spoilt little brat. Interesting…. Just like? Wasn’t he already one? Suddenly Severus’s mind was becoming too full of questions and not enough answers. Glaring death at Potter he growled, “Twenty points from Gryffindor, and a week’s worth of detentions. Meet me here at seven o’clock sharp.” Turning his back on Harry he yelled, “I want a foot on this potions and how it works. If you find any other reverent information about this potion I want that as well. Class dismissed.” Watching Potter leave Severus couldn’t help but compare the arrogant boy that was leaving his classroom, to the sweet helpless little boy from the infirmary. Suddenly a horrible thought struck Severus….which one was Harry’s true self?  Or was he just manipulating everyone like an expert pianist would manipulate the keys on his piano?

“Mate are you nuts!” Ron screamed for the umpteenth time, “He is going to kill you! And wining? Oh god you are dead, so so, so, dead and my mum is going to kill us all because she told us to keep you safe!” Ron was pacing the length of the abandoned third floor corridor, now Fluffy free.

            “Ron,” Harry said wearily, “Please shut-up.”

            “I don’t know why you did it?” Hermione took up the lecture, “I just don’t understand Harry. Do you want people to keep hating you?”

            “No,” Harry replied with a sneer that was reminiscent of Snape’s. Harry was an excellent mimic.

            “Why do you do these things?” Hermione asked in frustration. Even Fred and George were looking at Harry like he had finally gone off of his rocker. Harry was about to answer when he finally just gave up and said, “Look, I can’t explain why I did what I did. You wouldn’t understand. So leave me alone about it okay. Snape won’t kill me. He would hate for all of his efforts in saving me to go to waste.”

            “He’s got a point,” Fred said and George picked up, “Snape’s not stupid.”

            “Though I don’t know why you can’t tell us what is wrong?” Hermione cut the twins off and put her hands on her hips. She looked tired and upset, like this was personal. Ron was standing next to her and was nodding his head in agreement.

            “Look….I just get tired of all the weird looks and rumors going on in the Tower,” Harry replied, knowing that he was lying and not caring. They couldn’t know….they wouldn’t understand…..they would look down on him, “If I am with Snape at least I will be too tired to have nightmares.”

            Hermione’s face softened and she caught Harry in a strangle hold. Ron looked highly uncomfortable and said, “I’m with you in spirit mate. Just try and duck and cover if Snape tries anything.”

            Harry nodded but he couldn’t help thinking about what Lockhart tried to do, and he shivered. Luckily the twins thought he was afraid of Snape and said, “Don’t worry mate.”

            George laughed and finished, “Snape’s bark is worse than his bite.”

            “Except that one time we turned his clothes pink,” Fred said reflectively. They both paled and said in unison, “Never do that.

            Harry just nodded and the group made their way to the next class. Fred and George leaving them once they came to Transfiguration.

            “See yea later,” Fred hollered and George ended, “Keep tabs on those that harass you Harry. We have a few new tricks up our sleeves!”

            Harry smiled a little and he felt somewhat safe. The twins would make sure none of the students would hurt him too bad. He didn’t have to worry about that now; it was just the adults he had to worry about now.

            Snape was pacing his office. All day he had been disturbed with the prospect of Potter truly being manipulative, like another Dumbledore….or Voldemort. For some reason Snape was starting to compare the Dark Lord and Harry and found it chilling. They were some things that were the same and that made Snape shiver. Though to be fair Dumbledore kind of reminded him of Voldemort too so he was just jumping the wand a little. Then there was the infirmary scene that kept replaying in front of his mind. Potter had been so….respectful and….god help him….sweet. Where did that boy go?

            Shaking himself from his dour thoughts he heard a soft knock on his door and hollered, “ENTER!”

Potter poked his black mane into the classroom and then the rest of his little body and Snape glared daggers at the boy. Anger built inside of him. He had HELPED the boy, and here the boy repaid him with disrespect. That would not do. He would instill in the boy some respect even if it killed him. He was so angry that all he could do was point at the waiting caldrons. Harry nodded and hung his head. He sat his book bag down and rolled up his sleeves. Without another word Harry went to work, and Snape began to wonder why he even entertained the thought that Harry could be a sweet little boy.  

            Harry could feel the anger coming off Snape in waves and he felt a small pang in his chest area. He told himself that it was nothing. That it was just a nerve hurting, but Harry truly knew better. The man had been nice to him in the infirmary. Had actually gotten his things from God only knew where and he repaid him by being a brat.  God, he felt so bad. Uncle Vernon was right. He was a selfish piece of shit. Feeling tears coming Harry began scrubbing harder until all thoughts of Uncle Vernon, Lockhart, Snape, and the students were gone. All there was left was the scrubbing and water and the cold. That was all life was. That was all he needed, all he wanted. The tears were forgotten, and Harry managed an air of indifference that infuriated Snape.

            Snape stood as he saw Potter uncaringly scrub, and he felt like hitting the boy. But no….he would never do that. He would not be his father, he would not. He was not an abuser, not now or ever.

            “GET OUT!” Snape screamed, and Harry jumped spilling water everywhere. He looked at Snape with round frightened eyes that reminded him so much of Lily. That just infuriated Severus even more.

            “GET OUT!” Snape repeated pointing to the door. Harry scrambled to his feet and dived for his backpack, “You ungrateful little brat. Just go!”

            Harry barreled out of the classroom, tears down his face. Why did Snape do that?

Snape for his part calmed instantly, when he saw the tears on the boys face. Did he do that? Did he really scare the boy? A boy that was so used to angry evil voices screaming at him and calling him names. And god why did he even care! Angry again Snape threw himself into his chair and began sorting through papers. The boy would be fine….he hoped.

            Harry made it to Gryffindor tower at top speed, and was about to go inside when he heard a sickly sweet voice say, “Where have you been?’

            Harry spun around and forced himself not to blanch, Lockhart was right behind him.

            “Sir?” Harry asked puzzled, was he supposed to meet Lockhart?

            “You were not in class today,” Lockhart explained, looking at Harry he asked, “Was it the students again?”

            Harry nodded but Lockhart looked at him sadly and said, “I’m sorry for that, love.”

            He made himself by pure force of will not to run when he heard that particular endearment. He was Lockhart’s love? Gross. Lockhart took a step towards him and slid his finger down Harry’s cheek. Leering a little Lockhart whispered, “Why don’t you come to my office? I’m sure talking will make you feel better.” The insinuations were easy for Harry, through he was only tweleve, to hear and his stomach dropped. Oh no, oh hell no.

            “I..I…I..c….can…n’t,” Harry stammered looking for a reason, any reason. He was about to run for it when he heard Ron say, “There you are mate! Snape let you out early?’   

            Lockhart swiftly took a step back and plastered a sunny fake smile on his face, “Why hello Mr. Weasley I was just seeing that young Harry here was alright.”

            Ron nodded and smiled a little, “Thanks Professor sir.”

            Lockhart nodded, let his eyes linger on Harry for a little too long, and then left swiftly. Ron didn’t notice the odd look nor did he notice Harry’s traumatized face. Harry kept rubbing his cheek like he wanted something dirty to come off. Finally he said, “I’ve got to go take a shower.” And before Ron could respond he was out the door and down the hall and in the bathroom. Nobody could have caught up with him.

            He spent the better part of an hour scrubbing his arms, legs, cheek, and everywhere else his eyes liked to stare at. He scrubbed until he was bright pink and his arms were starched and his cheek a bit bruised. One word repeating in his head; Love, love love love love love,suddenly Harry felt sick and he ran to the toilet retching. Feeling horrible and dirty and nasty Harry laid his scarred forehead on the cold white porcelain and cried.

            After an hour Harry calmly threw his clothes back on and made his way cautiously to Gryffindor Tower. He had a potions assignment due and he wanted it to be perfect as penitence for his disrespect.

            Snape was puzzled; genuinely and certainly puzzled beyond all measure. Snape did not like to be puzzled. But he was, and he did not like it, at all. Potter was what made him puzzled. Monday Potter had behaved horribly in his classroom. And that night Snape had behaved like a jerk, yet the boy was basically an angel. He did his homework, read the assignments, behaved in class, ignored his friends, and basically handed in perfect potions. Something that Snape thought he would never see. He was respectful to him and all of his Slytherians. When Mr. Malfoy tried to start an argument Potter would just shrug it off. Hell, there were a few times Snape had wanted Potter to hit the boy, but he never did….not once. He wondered about that. He liked this new, mature, studious Potter. Snape would be ecstatic if it weren’t for the burses.

            Potter never noticed that he saw, but there were times when Harry’s robes would move just right and he would see starches and burses on the boy’s arms. He even came to class with one on his cheek a few days ago. Snape had asked, but the boy had given him a lame excuse about tripping on the stairs, which wasn’t that far out there, but he had known the boy was lying. It was in how the boy would never quite look at him. In detentions he was quiet and never complained about his work. Snape had run out of things to ask him to do, he was so efficient and quick, so he let the boy do his homework. It was not usually how he operated but he was sure it got the message across. Still, he was worried.

            Snape didn’t think he could take much more of Potter’s angelic attitude. It just wasn’t the boy. Yes he wanted respect, and yes he wanted quiet, and yes he wanted the boy to actually do his homework, but he had never wanted the boy to lose his spark. That will to live and break rules that made Snape’s life so difficult. No he wanted Potter to control it. Not lose it.

            It wasn’t lost on Severus that this total indifference to life had started the day after his mistreatment of the boy. Now realistically Severus knew that his words and actions would not have gotten such a response from Potter. Still….he wondered. Could it finally have been the straw that had broken the camel’s back? Could it be that Potter believed he would find no solace anywhere, not even from teachers? Could it be he was turning into a sentimental old fool that would soon go around asking people to have a lemon drop?  Nahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, who was he kidding? The boy was probably just depressed about no longer being the famous Harry Potter.

            Snape growled to himself and threw his quill down. Potter would be here in a little while and he would not be done with the inventory. He thought briefly about letting the boy do it, but shook his head. Letting Potter around potions, even if he was doing better in class, made him shiver in fear. No telling what that idiot would do. The boy tended to do things without thinking about it, all the time.

            Suddenly a knock sounded and Severus sighed, let the show begin.

            Harry was nervous. He had done everything in his power to show Snape that he was truly sorry. That he was not a brat, but nothing seemed to work. Snape seemed to still be overly hostile. It was starting to wane, because Harry was sure not even Snape could keep his anger going for more than a few days, but it was still there and Harry wanted it gone. He wanted the Snape from the infirmary that protected him from Lockhart and the Ravenclaw bullies. He wanted Snape’s gruff but tender manner to ward off the fear. But most of all he did not want to be pitied, and for some reason Harry had in his pretty little head that Snape could provide that. That Snape was the best candidate to play the role of his “protector”, even if the man couldn’t stand him. Harry knew that Snape wouldn’t let Lockhart or anyone hurt him. So with a sigh Harry knocked and waited for Snape to yell. Sure enough he heard the man’s silky voice and pushed the door opened.

            “Get your homework out and finish it!” Snape barked. He wasn’t dressed in his regular school clothes. Instead he was in a faded pair of blue jeans, a white tee shirt, and trainers. He even had his hair tied back in a short pony tail. He looked cool, and Harry thought it was the oddest thing he had ever seen.  Snape didn’t notice Harry openly staring at him he only turned on his heel and went back into his storage cabinet. After a minute he finally heard a backpack unzip and he nodded to himself when a chair scarped against the floor. Yes, Potter was obeying him, for once.

            Harry was almost finished when he heard a crash. Worried he stood quickly and ran into the supply closet. He found a few broken vials on the floor. Snape was groaning and holding his head. There were no nasty smelling potions on the floor, so Harry assumed that they had been empty. Still he wanted to make sure.

            “They didn’t spill on you did they professor?” Harry asked worriedly going towards his professor.

            “Does it look like it?” Snape snapped mutter something about stupid Gryffindors. Harry sighed and then he saw the blood on Snape’s hand. Apparently Snape had cut himself.

            “Come on sir,” Harry said helping his Professor up. Snape wasn’t really paying much attention his head and hand hurt too much. Harry led his Professor to his desk and left to get a wet hand towel. He also grabbed the small garbage can and some tweezers from the supply closet. He came back just in time to see Snape fiddle with his wand. Brushing it aside Harry sat down his supplies, pulled up a chair, and grabbed Snape’s hand, gently and quickly pulling the little slivers of glass out. Frowning he asked, “How did it happen sir?”

            On Snape’s part he was shocked. Harry Potter, the boy who lived to torment him, was pulling glass slivers out of his hand. He was twelve, how the hell did he know how to do something like this with that level of skill. Any other twelve year old would have panicked. They would have gone to find Pomprey, or listened to his instructions on what to get. They never would have thought to take matters into their own hands. Some would have fainted at the sight of blood. Not for the first Snape wondered who the boy really was, and if he had misjudged him horribly.

            “None of your business Potter,” Snape growled falling back onto old habits. He usually did when something or someone was making him feel uncomfortable. Potter defiantly was.

            “I did not mean to pry sir,” Harry replied. He knew his Professor would be not speak to him, but he also knew that he did not want the man to focus on the pain in his hand, “I only wanted to make sure you did not hurt yourself anywhere else, sir.” Harry pulled the last sliver out and threw it into the garbage can. Smiling slightly at his potions master he said, “All done.”

            Snape looked on as Harry carefully wrapped his hand up. The cuts were actually deep and he would have to go see Poppy to stitch them up, he should probably also have her check his head.

            “Why don’t you go up to the infirmary,” Harry replied with a soft, shy smile, “I’ll clean up your potions cabinet.”

            “No,” Snape replied, and Harry could detect anger in his voice although he did not understand what he had done wrong. Maybe Snape did not take too kindly to being manhandled although he didn’t say anything before, but then again the world had been spinning for him.

            “Go to Gryffindor tower and finish your homework,” Snape growled standing and clutching his hand to his chest. Harry just stood there looking forlornly at him. What had he done? He thought he was doing a good thing in helping Snape, but apparently it just pissed him off. Maybe he was the type that hated help?

            “Go Potter!” Snape thundered and Harry quickly gathered his things, trying to keep tears from streaming down his face. He had helped the man! He had thought he had done a good thing. Harry scurried out of the classroom and bolted down the hallway. Why did he always get in trouble? Harry finally sagged against the wall near Gryffindor tower and shook his head. What had he done to make Snape made at him? Then a realization dawned on him….and a voice very like his Uncle Vernon announced in his head, “You’re a sick freak. Nobody would want to touch you….everybody hates you…..nobody wants you around.”

            Harry shook his head and ran into the Tower. He bolted up the stairs and jumped into his bed pulling the curtains around his bed and clutched his pillow to his chest. These were times that he wished that he had a pet or a plushy that he could cuddle. He hung his head and let the tears fall. It suddenly occurred to him that no matter how hard he tired no adult would ever like him.

            Snape was angry at himself. Here Potter was helping him and all he could do was snap. He didn’t even notice how upset Harry had gotten until he was running out of his classroom, again, in tears. Severus groaned. What was wrong with the boy now? What did he keep on doing that was so horrible? Snape thought that the boy would already be used to his prickly manner, and indeed it had seemed that way when the boy was tending to his hand. Yet, the boy ran off when he told him to go back to the Tower. He would have thought the boy would have been happy about an early leave from detention. He left his classroom and walked to the infirmary, thinking back on the incident. Suddenly a strange and somewhat surreal thought came to him….could Harry have been reaching out? Could he have been trying to…..bond? or something? Snape was puzzled but then he shook that thought from his head. James Potter’s son bond with him, Snivilles? Snape snorted, he was sure that the boy would rather drink an unknown potion. Still, the boy had been upset, and for some reason he couldn’t help but wonder if for the first time since the infirmary, he had seen the real Harry Potter. Suddenly Severus felt sick….if Harry had indeed been trying to reach out and show someone his real self….oh no….Snape groaned as he stood outside of the infirmary. He had pretty much told the child he wasn’t worth anything…oh hell. Well….there was nothing for it. He just had to hope the boy would get over it. Because he was not going to apologize, he just wasn’t. He didn’t have it in him to apologize to an overly sensitive brat. With that decision made he went into the infirmary to hear Poppy squall like a monkey.

            Still, as Severus watching Poppy stitch up her hand he couldn’t help but remember how gentle the boy had been, how careful and he couldn’t help but wonder where he had learned it.