The tall thin boy with a mess of red hair and a smudge on his nose that sat across from him didn't seem to mind too much, as he was happy enough to fill the silence all on his own, telling Harry about the magical world, and about his brothers and the place where they lived called the Burrow. But the older and wiser students who passed through their compartment thought Harry a snob for not talking to them. Even the girl their age called Hermione that came in looking for a toad, gave him a dirty look when he didn't say anything except for tell her that he was Harry when she asked. Not Harry Potter, just Harry.

In truth Harry was afraid to speak. He didn't like speaking in public at all because he had learned to keep his mouth shut or else be made fun of. The children at his old school always pummeled him when they heard him, and laughed at him when he couldn't answer questions at school without waiting long moments for him to get a sentence out. So far he had managed to get away with few words when he had met Hagrid and gone to Diagonalley. The few times he had stuttered Hagrid hadn't seemed to notice. It wasn't that Harry stuttered everything out, just most things. There were some words he was well practiced at and could say just fine. For instance, Harry, sorry, yes, and my, were some of the few he could say because he was expected to say them so often.

"Are you excited Harry?" He looked over at Ron who had been talking non-stop. Harry opened a pumpkin pasty that he had gotten off the trolley by pointing, and stuffed it in his mouth as an excuse not to talk. He nodded, and Ron said, "I bet we won't really have to battle a troll. My brothers are always being mean to me telling me stuff that isn't true. Do you have any brothers?"

Harry shook his head and Ron continued on in a new vein about his oldest brother, who worked with dragons in Romania.

As the terrain grew wilder and the sky darker, Harry's excitement and apprehension grew greater. He hoped he wouldn't have to speak in order to be accepted into the school once he got there, because he always stuttered worse when he was excited or scared. Tonight he was a little of both.

When the train finally began to slow down, and students began filling the halls, Harry and Ron put their robes on and got ready to get off the train. Outside, Harry was pleased to see Hagrid and get into the largest boat with him and Ron and cross the great black lake towards the magnificent castle. As the castle loomed nearer in the darkness, Harry couldn't help but feel gratitude that he was here instead of back at four Privet Drive, mopping the kitchen floor and being yelled at by Aunt Petunia.

"All righ', off teh boats yeh lot." Hagrid ushered them off the boats once they reached a cave under the school, and then up a long flight of stone steps and into a tiny waiting room. With encouragement to stay out of trouble, Hagrid left them there in the semi-darkness.

Harry didn't care for the darkness, or small cramped spaces. He hated the feeling that he was back in his cupboard under the stairs, especially in such a large place as a castle. Only a few moments after Hagrid disappeared however, Harry's attention was drawn to a voice behind him instead of the claustrophobic room.

"So it's true what they say, that Harry Potter's come to Hogwarts."

Harry and Ron turned to face the pale boy with white blond hair. "Yes," Harry said.

"Well my name's Draco Malfoy. You'll want to make the right type of friends here. The wrong type could damage your reputation." Here he held out his hand to shake, and gave a glare at Ron at the same time.

As he looked down at the hand extended to him, Harry frowned and shook his head. Should he say something, and make a fool of himself? But he couldn't just ignore this boy in this crowded room.

"I can tell f for myself w who th that is th thanks," and then he turned back around.

Draco scoffed immediately, and said, "What's the matter Potter? Have I scared you into a stutter then? I would have thought the boy who lived would have been fearless, but I guess I was mistaken."

Several people that seemed to already know Draco gave a laugh, but Ron made a rude gesture in the darkness at him just as a tall witch with a pointed hat appeared at the door. She looked down at them, and appeared to have missed the gesture, because she began speaking immediately of houses and house points and a feast at the end of the term.

When she was finished she lead them out of the cramped room and into a magnificent dining hall with a high ceiling that seemed to disappear into the stars.

A small, ancient hat that sat on a stool in front of the staff table began to sing, followed by Professor McGonagall calling out names from a list, signaling students to approach the hat and put it on. The hat seemed to be the one determining which houses people were in, and just as Harry sighed in relief that there were going to be no trolls, Ron muttered, "Trolls, ha!" and Harry smiled.

After long moments of anticipation, Harry was called up to the stool and put on the hat. It slid right down over his eyes and began speaking in his ear immediately.

"Oh, a Potter! I've been wondering when I would meet you young man. Both of your parents were in Gryffindor you know."

‘Really?' Harry thought.

"Oh yes, and a bright student your mother was. I wanted to place her in Ravenclaw, but something told me Gryffindor before I even touched her head. But where to put you? I sense you would do very well in Slytherin under Professor Snape..."

‘No!' Harry thought desperately. Draco had just been placed in Slytherin, and he didn't want to go where people were already making fun of him. Ron had also said something about Voldemort coming out of Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin then? Better be Gryffindor!" The hat was shouting now and Harry was gratefully pulling the hat off his head and hurrying to the table that was shouting the loudest.

After a few more minutes Harry was pleased to find Ron sitting next to him again, and a magnificent feast set before them.

"Wow," said Ron. "This is more than mum ever made, even for cousin Jenna's wedding! And there were a hundred and five guests there!"

Harry happily dug into everything he could reach, and used eating as an excuse not to answer people's questions. Instead Harry listened in to everybody else's conversations, taking in every stray bit of information he could get on the wizarding world. He wanted desperately to fit in here. He didn't want to end up just like he had in every other school year so far... secluded and disliked, and where Dudley's gang was concerned, a punching bag.

Prefects lead the first year Gryffindors up through the castle to Gryffindor tower after the feast and showed them to their rooms. Harry was pleased to find that the first year boy's dormitory was much larger than a closet under the stairs. He had his own bed with deep red hangings, a warm blanket, a desk, and a nightstand. And near his bed was the only window in the room, looking out over the dark grounds and a small piece of the lake.

"Harry?" Ron was calling from somewhere in his own bed next to Harry's through the darkness.

"Yes?"

"Night mate."

Harry struggled for a moment with what to do. He hated to lose his only friend because he stuttered. Should he ignore him? Making up his mind, he said, "N n night."

To Harry's encouragement, Ron didn't laugh, and he fell into a peaceful sleep, feeling for once that he now had a home.

* * *

Harry made it through his first day of classes without a hitch. He had had Herbology, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Most of the day had been rules and expectations, and he hadn't been given a chance to worry about doing spells yet. Harry wasn't sure if he was pleased or excited, or both, to find that Professor Quirril had a stutter too. Like himself, Quirril seemed to stutter worse when he was excited or scared. Some of the students made fun of him after class was out, but the jokes weren't too bad, and Harry had a little hope that maybe he might be accepted here.

The second day didn't start out bad, but in Charms Harry wasn't able to perform the Wingardium Leviosa spell because he couldn't get the whole incantation out without stuttering at least some part of it. Draco Malfoy laughed at him from behind, but Harry didn't feel too badly at the end of the class because Ron, Seamus, and Neville hadn't gotten the spell right either.

After lunch, Harry couldn't help but be excited by Potions. Like Herbology, Harry had been told that Potions didn't require talking to make work. Harry had read the first chapter the night before so that he could be ready, and he felt in his heart that at least this class would go well for him. He generally did well in classes where there was a lot of reading, but not a lot of question answering involved.

In the Dungeon classroom, Harry and Ron took a seat right in the middle, and had just pulled out note taking supplies when Professor Snape, a man of impressive stature flung the door open and strode into the room.

In a capturing voice he said, "In Potions I can teach you to ensnare the senses, and put a stopper in death, I can-" he paused, and looked over at Harry, who was taking notes, trying not to let his parchment blot too much with the quill he wasn't used to using.

"Well well, Mr. Potter, our, new, celebrity."

Harry's head snapped up. Oh no! What had he done to get attention? Attention from teachers wasn't good... they always asked questions if they thought you weren't paying attention! Panicked he tried to calm down, knowing he would have to answer questions.

"Tell me Potter, what would you get..." Harry was breathing deeply, not even listening anymore. If he could just calm down enough he might get a half way understandable answer out of his mouth.

The professor was done speaking now, and Harry shook his head.

"Don't know? Tell me then the difference between a bezoar and..."

Harry tuned out again. He didn't know any of these answers... they weren't in the first chapter of his book. Should he have read further?

Hermione was at the table next to his bouncing up and down off her seat with her hand raised in the air now. Harry pointed to her, hoping to convey that she knew the answer.

Snape frowned. "Is that supposed to mean something Potter? Have you no manners? When a professor asks you a question, you are expected to answer." Harry had only made him angrier.

From the back of the room Harry heard Malfoy snigger, and from the front of the room Snape said impatiently, "Well?"

"I, I, I think sh sh she kn kn knows s s s sir." Harry pointed at her again. Darn, that hadn't come out good at all. The man's glare was positively hateful now and he strode to Harry and Ron's desk and slammed his fist down on it, making both boys jump.

Close to Harry's face Professor Snape said, "I don't know what you've been taught at previous schools Potter, but here we do not tolerate disrespect to teachers. Making fun of Professor Quirril will not gain you popularity points Potter. It will however gain you detention, tonight at seven o'clock, scrubbing dungeon floors."

He strode back up to the front of the classroom and tapped his wand hard on the dusty blackboard. Long, handwritten instructions appeared there for a potion, and Snape said, "Let the ten points I'm taking from Gryffindor serve to remind you that potion making is serious business. A potion wrongly brewed can explode in your face, or turn to poison instead of a cure. Do not make me take points by brewing stupidly... and do not make me test your potions on you." When nobody moved, he snapped, "Get to work!" and everybody scrambled to pull out their cauldrons and potion's kits.

Harry hurried to chop his ingredients and get them added to his cauldron in the right order. Ron was muttering something beside him, and Harry hoped he wasn't angry at him for losing points. He hoped he knew that he hadn't really been making fun of Quirril. He just wouldn't do that because he knew what it was like.

After class several Gryffindors glared at Harry as Slytherins laughed at him on their way to study hall. Ron muttered something about his brothers being right about Snape, and Harry kept quiet.

"He's a stupid git Harry. Rotten luck we have to take Potions at all. Sucks to get detention on your second day here."

"Bad?"

Ron nodded. "My brothers generally do something in the first week to earn one, but what old Snape did was just rotten. Fred and George told me about scrubbing out old potions ingredients jars for him... but I reckon floors won't be too bad."

Harry nodded. Scrubbing floors was something he did well.

"Th think h h he'll k k k keep giving me d d detention?"

"I hope not. It's not your fault talking like that. Aunt Rosie had a stutter once after a spell gone wrong, but Uncle Job made up a potion and gave it to her and she was good as new!"

"P p potion?"

Ron nodded. "I don't know what it was, but I reckon I could find out if I wrote home about it."

"Th thanks." Harry grinned and Ron slapped him on the back as they sat down at a table in the Great Hall to do homework. They couldn't talk any more after that however, because Professor Sprout was patrolling the isles, keeping people on task. Ron and Harry kept up a dialog on a piece of parchment however, and Harry found he much preferred communicating in this way because there was no stutter given through a pen.

After dinner and a good luck from Ron, Harry made his way back down to the dungeons for the second time that day. He found Professor Snape in his office, along with a mop and bucket. Snape didn't say much except to lead Harry to the largest dungeon classroom and set him to work mopping, with a warning not to slack off because he wouldn't leave until he was done.

Forty minutes had passed, and Harry had been made to do the floor a second time before he was allowed to leave, but he had been lucky enough not to be asked to speak before the detention was over.

Snape was just locking the door with his wand and Harry was ready to head back upstairs when Harry was struck with the idea that it might be rude not to say good night. He turned back and waved to Snape and said, "N n n night p p professor."

When he saw the man turning purple he made a run for it and hurried back up to Gryffindor tower. Perhaps he thought again that Harry was making fun of Professor Quirril. Harry hadn't thought of that, and as he sat doing his Potions essay, he hoped the man would forget all that had happened and let Harry get off on the right foot when next they met. Generally teachers were pretty nice to him at his old school, and most seemed to be nice here as well, even given his stutter. He hated to think one might be mad at him all year.

"How was detention?" Ron asked as he sat down next to Harry and pulled out his own homework.

"N not b bad. I m made h him m mad again."

"Brilliant," said Ron. "Maybe you'll get detention with Fred or George sometime. Snape gave them detention right after dinner for throwing a fanged frisbee at his head." He laughed and Harry smiled. He was glad that Ron was still talking to him. Even with just one friend, he didn't feel lonely at all like he was so used to being.

"T t tintade b b blue." He touched his wand to the pillow, and nothing happened again.

Flitwick gave him a sad smile, and said, "Keep working on it Potter. I'm sure you'll get it eventually."

It was the second week of classes, and failing at everything magic was nothing new to Harry by now. Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration were a disaster, and he had yet to perform one spell right thus far, with the exception of accidentally giving his book wings when he said a spell wrong in Professor McGonagall's class on Monday. He had earned ten points in Herbology, and failed to get detention again in Potions, even earning himself an Acceptable on a Potions essay, but what good was going to a magic school if you couldn't do the magic?

By now everyone knew that ‘the poor Potter boy' stuttered. It seemed that the teachers had had a staff meeting and mentioned it because Snape was no longer asking Harry questions and yelling at him for stuttering them out. In fact, Snape seemed to ignore Harry altogether except to glare down into his cauldron every now and again and make rude comments about his work.

"I'm still waiting for mum to write back about what potion was used on my aunt," Ron said one evening after dinner as they sat in the Library and studied. "I bet she's having a hard time finding out. Uncle Job died last year and Aunt Rosie the year before, so she's probably got to track down my cousin Billius in America to find out."

"A a all the w way o over there?"

Ron nodded. "He moved there after he married some American woman who he met on vacation. They live in an all wizarding town somewhere in the North I think. I've never been but mum says someday we'll all go and visit them."

"Cool," said Harry.

"Hey, you didn't stutter that," Ron pointed out. Harry shrugged.

"J j just o one of th those w words I d d do ok."

"Oh," said Ron, disappointed. He was obviously hopeful that Harry wouldn't be like this forever, and might get better someday. But for as long as Harry could remember he had been like this, and he had long since given up much hope of changing it.

Ron continued to wait on a letter from his mother, and Harry continued trying to get spells out whole and un-maimed. Every once and a while he managed something, but never what he was going for. He almost unlocked a door in Charms once with the Alohamora charm, but the lock just jiggled inside and slid back into place. With pity in his eyes, Professor Flitwick gave Harry one point anyway for a good try, but Harry didn't feel very good about getting pity points. It seemed too that other students felt the same way.

On his way back to his common room from the Library alone that night, Harry found himself cornered by Draco Malfoy and his two beefy friends Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well well, if it isn't pity point Potter, all alone."

Harry pulled out his wand, but Draco only laughed. "What, going to stutter me to death?" Feeling foolish, Harry kept his wand out, knowing it would do him no good, unless he planned on jabbing it up his nose or in an eye.

Draco and his cronies advanced on Harry, forcing him backwards into a wall. "So you expect to gain points by pity then? What a joke. You might as well be a Squib if you can't even do the magic p p p Potter."

"B b b back off d d d d d Draco." Dang it. He hated how it got worse when he was anxious. It always gave him away.

Laughing again the Slytherins stuffed their own wands away and instead Draco rolled up his sleeve and made a fist. "I know Muggle dueling isn't allowed here, but how can I resist? It would be such a waste to use magic on you Potter." With this he took a swing and hit Harry in the face. Instinctively Harry covered his face to protect it from a second blow, but now more than one fist was raining down on him, and every part of his body was being attacked.

Collapsing onto the floor and trying to curl up to protect himself, Harry prayed for help, and drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

When he next came to, it was to distant, blurred voices. It took him a while to realize he wasn't on the cold stone floor anymore, but instead on a soft bed, and soon the voices became clear enough to understand. Eyes still closed, he listened, and pretended to be asleep.

"Probably stared a fight with those he couldn't hope to defend himself against. Just like his father."

"Oh hush Severus, I seem to recall you coming in here just as bruised in your school days, though to have passed out he must have been beaten severely. Was there anyone around when you found him?"

"No. I was on patrol and found him slumped on the fifth floor."

"Well why on earth didn't he use magic to defend himself?"

There was silence for a moment. He knew Snape knew the answer, and yet he didn't tell her. Why was that?

"He doesn't do magic," was the final answer.

"Doesn't do- Severus, what on earth are you talking about? He wouldn't be here if he didn't do magic!"

"He can't get the words out. Just like Quirril is supposedly."

"Supposedly? You mean you don't believe it then?"

Severus sighed, and Poppy said, "Obviously not until tonight. I would think if he could defend himself he would have."

"I would think he wouldn't go around starting fights if he couldn't defend himself in the first place. Not only disabled but daft."

Hurt and angry, Harry opened his eyes and sat up. "M n n not st st stupid p p p professor!"

Snape glared at him. "Then why are you out starting fights in the dead of night?"

Harry shook his head. "I d d didn't st st st st start it!" The more angry he got the less he could even think what to say, and the worse he got.

"Somehow I find that hard to believe Potter." With this the man turned and strode from the room, leaving him alone with the medi-witch.

"Don't mind him now Harry, just lie back and let me finish with the bruises. That's a good boy."

Madam Pomfrey was finished soon enough and instructed Harry to get some sleep, and that she would release him in the morning. For Harry sleep was out of the question however. Too many angry thoughts kept circling his mind. Snape didn't really think he had a stutter? How could he not believe it? And he had no proof at all, but he automatically jumped to the conclusion that it was all Harry's fault.

Harry didn't know why but it hurt him more than he liked to admit that the man had made fun of him calling him ‘disabled and daft.' A teacher had never made fun of him before, and in general, the only adults to make jokes about his stutter were Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

‘It's the result of bad breeding,' Aunt Marge always used to say when she came to visit Privet Drive. And then Aunt Petunia would always nod and say something like, ‘I always knew there was something wrong with that Potter boy when he came hanging around. Doesn't surprise me the boy is strange in his head if his father wasn't all there to start with.'

Heaving a sigh, Harry rolled over onto his side. His face was still tender where the bruise balm had been applied. He hoped Draco and his friends hadn't ganged up on Ron too. What must his new friend think that he hadn't come back to the tower for the night?

Eventually Harry did fall to sleep in the early hours of the morning, but it was a sleep filled with Snape pointing and laughing at him as Draco cornered him and rolled up his sleeves.

Harry explained everything to Ron at breakfast the next morning, and Ron made a fist at Draco as he passed by their table. Draco only laughed however as he pointed at Harry, and threw his hands up over his face, mocking Harry for how he hadn't been able to defend himself.

"I w w wish I c c could d do spells," Harry said, pushing his eggs around his plate. "Th then I, I c could g get h him back."

"Yeah," said Ron, "that would be nice. Can't you control the stutter at all?"

Harry shook his head. "O only sm sm small w words l like my n n name. S s see? Harry Harry Harry." He said his name in rapid succession and Ron wriggled his nose as if he were trying to figure something out.

"You know, my brothers told me they teach wordless magic here, but only in seventh year because it's difficult. You just think the incantation and wave your wand and it happens."

"B b bet sh sh she c c could d do it." Harry pointed to Hermione Granger, the smart girl down the table who always got good grades and seemed to know every answer to every question.

Ron looked at her and said, "Nah. She's just a girl."

From down the table Harry saw Hermione shoot a glare in their direction, and then go back to the book spread out before her on the table where a plate should have been.

"W w well I h h have t to try!"

Ron shrugged and said, "I'll look for a book in the Library after dinner... I bet there's one in there. There are lots of old school books in there."

Harry raised his brows. He didn't know his friend had spent any time in the library.

Defensively Ron said, "My mum told me. We couldn't afford all of my school books this year so I have to go in there to read Herbology and Charms."

Reaching below the bench they sat on where his book bag lay on the floor, Harry pulled out his books and gestured to Ron.

"U use mine."

"Really?"

Harry nodded.

"Thanks mate!"

He waved him off, and went back to his eggs, feeling a little better at the prospect of doing magic without words.

As promised, Ron came back to the common room that night with a seventh year Charms book with instructions on doing magic without words. He and Harry read the instructions together and then Ron set a quill on the table in front of them. Eyebrows scrunched up in concentration, Ron tried to levitate the quill without words, but nothing happened.

"Guess it doesn't matter if I can't do it," Ron said with a shrug. "You try."

Harry concentrated hard, but was also unable to get any result.

"Practice I guess."

Harry nodded again and said, "I I'll d do it. W wait a and s s see."

Harry turned around in the dimly lit corridor and his insides froze. Draco was back, and this time he had older Slytherins with him, at least third years judging by their size.

He wasn't sure if this was a dream or not, because he'd been having dreams off and on about Draco beating him up for the last week. In fact, this whole day seemed to be a dream, what with flying lessons going as they had, ending up with him in pursuit of Draco high up in the air, catching Neville's Remembrall, and getting dragged into the castle by McGonagall only to get put on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Feeling suddenly defiant, knowing that he was cornered and was going to get beaten up anyway, Harry said one of the few words he knew he could without stuttering, "Yes." He grinned and stuck his chin up in the air.

"Cheeky little thing, aint he?" One of the taller boys, with messy brown hair said to his companions.

"Deserves his ass beat then don't he?"

"Sounds like it to me."

Harry glared at them. He only knew one defensive spell, and he'd never managed it, not even without words, but something made him pull his wand out and try anyway. The boys laughed, and only laughed harder at the concentrated look on his face. They didn't freeze, and Harry lowered his wand.

"I think he's trying to stare us to death Jason! He's barmy!" They laughed loudly again and then advanced, fists clenched. Harry tried not to yelp. The older boys had harder swings, and reminded him of uncle Vernon.

And almost as soon as it had started, it had stopped. Panting, slumped on the floor, Harry watched as the boys scattered in every direction, and wondered for a brief moment why they had gone, when a tall, looming figure in sweeping black robes appeared around a corner.

Snape seemed to be looking for something, and soon his eyes found Harry on the floor, blood dripping from his nose and mouth, and from a cut above his right eye. He cast a last glance down the hall to see that they were alone, and then strode over to Harry, and lifted him up from under one arm.

"Again Potter?"

Harry frowned. Did he think Harry had caused this yet again?

"I'll take you to the Hospital Wing-" He tried to lead Harry off down the corridor, grasp still firm around Harry's arm, but Harry didn't budge.

Instead he wrenched his arm free, and shouted as best he could, "F f f for g g get it! N n not g g going any wh where w with you!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Not anywhere Potter, the Hospital Wing."

"W why? S s so y y you c c c can t t t tell p p p p people I I I'm st stupid again? A a a and th that I I st started it?"

"Don't be so dramatic Potter, I came down this corridor because I heard something."

"W well th that doesn't m m matter d d d does it? Y you w w w won't b b believe me anyway!" With this Harry took off and was all the way to the portrait of the fat lady before he bothered to slow down and look behind him to see if Snape was following. He was nowhere in sight, and Harry entered the common room, forgetting that he was still bloody.

There were a few gasps, and all of Ron's brothers came over to him to see his battle wounds.

"What's happened to you Potter?" Percy asked.

Harry gave a pleading look to Ron, too upset to try speaking again, and Ron said, "Draco Malfoy."

Harry pointed upwards, and Ron translated, "And some older Slytherins too?" Harry gave a nod and Fred whistled low.

"Little git," said George. "Reckon we ought to teach him a lesson Fred?"

Ron and Fred both nodded, but Percy held his hand up and said, "I'll write straight to mum if you do. Better go to the Hospital Wing and get those cuts taken care of Potter.

Harry shook his head no, but Percy nodded yes and pointed to his badge to remind Harry that he was a Prefect. With a glare, Harry headed back out the portrait hole with Ron by his side.

"Any luck with the silent spells yet?" Ron asked as they neared the hospital wing.

"No."

"Rotten luck that."

"I h hate it h h here."

Ron frowned. "You don't mean that. You mean you hate that Draco and Snape are here."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, I know you hate those Muggles you live with. You'd rather be back with them?"

He thought on it for a moment and shook his head. Anywhere was better than four Privet Drive, but beatings every week weren't anything to be happy about either.

Madam Pomfrey tsked all through the five minute examination and healing of Harry's new abrasions and cuts, and kept shooting Ron dirty looks as if he had something to do with it. But soon they were back in Gryffindor tower, and Harry used the bathroom to wash all the blood off his face.

"Maybe you ought to learn Muggle dueling then... no words for that, just fists." Harry glared at Ron and held up a skinny arm to show him that he had no muscles.

"Come on then, you could still fight. I've got no muscles but I'm always having to fend off Fred and George at home. One time Ginny even helped them pin me down."

Harry laughed to a cross look from Ron. "A a and wh wh who w w w ould t teach me?"

"My brothers maybe? I dunno. But you've got to have something to defend yourself with. Can't carry Muggle weapons here or they'd expel you straight off. Percy told me it happened last year to a fifth year Slytherin... got caught carrying a knife and they kicked him out within the hour."

He didn't like to think about getting kicked out, and he didn't want to carry a knife or weapon anyway. If he could just learn a shield charm or the jelly legs jinx. Quietly he thought to himself that night as he lay in bed thinking about Ron's proposal, that someone must have cast a jelly legs jinx on his tongue when he was small. Just before he fell to sleep, Harry had recommitted himself to learning to do spells without words. He hadn't been so determined about anything before, as he was about this.

* * *

Potter had gone to the Hospital Wing after all. He had checked. So the cheeky brat knew how to take sound advice, just not how to think on his own. If he truly was being cornered and beaten by older students then he would have figured out by now to travel with other students instead of wandering by himself at night. But no, he had spotted the boy alone in the castle several times since he had last found him slumped on the floor and bleeding.

It was infuriating. It was obvious that the boy was picking fights and then trying to get attention from staff for being the poor, beaten child. The attention the others were already giving him at staff meetings was bad enough. If he had to sit through one more pity party for Potter on Monday morning, he was going to jump off of the North Tower.

‘Poor boy,' McGonagall had said last week, after Potter had been beaten a second time. ‘I wish there was something we could do for him. I tried speaking to him about the stutter, but he said he's had it since he could first talk.'

Severus had the urge to roll his eyes just remembering the conversation. ‘Poor Potter,' he mimicked the woman in his head. Next time he caught Potter slumped on the floor bleeding from a fight he had picked, he was going to give him detention, and nothing was going to change his mind about it.

Severus would have liked to believe he was resolute in his decision, but on Friday night, a week and half after he'd last found the boy after a fight, he heard shouts of laughter in the halls just after the eight o'clock second year curfew, and hurried to see if he would be handing out detentions.

"Levicorpus!" a familiar voice shouted, and Severus paled. They were using the spell he had made up in his own youth? Against whom? He hurried around the corner and found Draco Malfoy, surrounded by a group of older Slytherins, holding up his wand and dangling Harry Potter by the foot in mid air.

Harry swung with his fists, wand clenched in one hand, and tried to stutter out a Jelly Legs Jinx, but the boys only laughed louder when nothing happened.

"Sh shit," Harry said suddenly, having caught sight of Snape striding towards them. The other boys laughed again, not realizing that they were now caught. Harry obviously believed he would be in trouble yet again.

Severus cleared his throat loudly, and the boys spun around, sending Harry crashing to the floor in a heap.

Harry struggled to his feet, and swayed slightly once he was up, and the other boys in front of him looked as if they'd seen a ghost, for all the blood in their faces had drained and made them white like a sheet.

He cast his glare from Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, to the two third years, the fourth year, and the one sixth year, all from his house.

"I can see now why they've passed you over for Prefect Dusty," he addressed the sixth year boy with sandy hair first. "I would have thought at least that you would know better." He turned to the fourth year, Ralph, and said, "And I'm guessing you no longer wish to apply for Prefect next year? I would certainly be ashamed to have you as a prefect in my house.

"But sir, he's a little-"

Snape held up a hand and said, "Enough!" He began to pace back and forth up the line of students, and did not fail to notice how nervous Potter looked in the back, as if he expected to be in trouble right away.

"Detention for the seven of you," they groaned, and he finished, "for two weeks. You will report to Filch every night for fourteen days at seven o'clock, starting tonight."

"But Quidditch!" said Dusty, who was a Beater on the Slytherin team.

"You will have to miss it or get Flint to reschedule won't you? Be lucky that it was I who found you and not Professor McGonagall, who would surely have you kicked off the team for your display of idiocy."

The boy looked down, Snape's words cutting across him like a knife.

After a moment, Snape said, "Go find Filch. You will stay until nine o'clock tonight since you're already an hour late." They didn't move and he shouted, "GO!"

Harry watched, amazed that they had been told off by their own head of house. He knew McGonagall was strict with the Gryffindors, because he had seen her give Fred detention for revealing his supply of fanged frisbees and handing them out to the house. But Snape? Ron swore he'd never give a Slytherin detention.

Suddenly realizing that he was the only one left, and was sure to be in trouble, Harry sank back towards the wall, and tried to look invisible, but Snape was watching him already.

"You are out after curfew Potter."

Here Harry pulled out a crumpled note from a pocket, and handed it forward, hand shaking a little.

Severus took it and read McGonagall's handwriting excusing him from the curfew this one time because he was going to be coming in late from Quidditch practice.

It would have irked Severus that the rules had been bent for the boy, except that he had just that day written out several notes excusing his younger Quidditch players from the curfew for the next few nights.

"Are you hurt?"

Harry looked down at himself and seemed to take stock, before he shook his head no.

"You're bleeding." Snape pointed to Harry's face and he reached up to feel the small trickle of blood coming from his hair. He had forgotten that they had slammed him into the wall at first.

"Come with me." Snape turned and strode off towards the Dungeons, and Harry followed, wondering what was going to happen to him now.

Silently he was lead to Snape's office, where Snape rummaged around in a cupboard and pulled out a tin of something. He handed it to Harry and told him to rub it on the bruise forming on his forehead.

"It is bruise salve," Snape said when Harry just stared down at the tin.

Doing as he was told, Harry sat down in one of Snape's visitor's chairs and rubbed it into his skin.

"Th th thanks."

Severus crossed his arms and sighed. Perhaps he had not been starting the fights.

"Why do you insist on traveling alone at night when you cannot even do a simple jinx to defend yourself?"

Harry bit his lip and then tried, "N n nobody w w will t t t t teach me."

"There are 17 professors that staff this school Potter. I doubt very much there is no one to teach you."

"I c c can't g g get th the sp spells out. R R Ron s s says I c c can do th th them in my h head. O or I sh should l l learn M M Muggle d d dueling."

"Muggle dueling is banned here Potter, and wordless magic is not taught until seventh year."

Here Harry drew his wand and pointed it at Snape's desk. There was a feather quill lying on top of a stack of ungraded papers. He seemed to concentrate for a moment, and then the feather levitated a foot off the desk and then dropped down again.

Surprised, Severus stood up straight from where he had been leaning on the wall, and unfolded his arms.

"You have managed it? Why did you not use it tonight?"

Harry shook his head. "T t took me a l l long t t time t to l learn t that. O only o o one I c c can d do."

"Hm. It is a simple spell, but still, the fact that you managed it without words is impressive at this age. Still, you need to be able to speak the magic. Avoiding the issue of your speech will not help it get better."

"P potion?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "There is a general remedy for various maladies. It sometimes works, and sometimes does not." He turned and rummaged through his potions cupboard again, and after a minute came out with a large phial of blue liquid.

He handed it to Harry who took it and drank it down.

"Well?"

Harry shrugged. "Tell me your name."

"Harry."

"Tell me your full name and grade."

"Harry P P Potter, f f first y y year." Harry looked disheartened by the end of the mangled sentence, and Severus held out his hand for the empty bottle.

Harry gave it to him and Snape said, "We could not expect that it should work on something that you have had since first speaking, however it was worth the try."

Severus could not help but feel something unpleasant at the disheartened look Harry still wore. Damn but how could he ignore that? The boy was a student after all and it was his job to help students.

"Come back here tomorrow night at seven."

Harry's head snapped up. "D d detention s s sir?"

"No Potter. Bring your Charms book with you."

After the boy had left, curious and maybe a little confused, Severus couldn't help but thinking this might be the death of him... tutoring James Potter's son... yes, it would be the end.

Harry shrugged. "D d don't kn kn know."

"Well, good luck then. Maybe we'll get back to the common room early and then we can play some chess."

Harry nodded and they parted. Ron had been teaching Harry wizards chess, although it had been slow going at first since the pieces didn't take kindly to mangled orders coming out of Harry's mouth. After Ron had threatened to smash them to bits with his wand however, they started to obey Harry, and he had gotten quite good in the last few weeks.

Snape's office door was closed, but light spilled out underneath into the hallway, and Harry was bade to come in when he knocked.

Inside the man was grading a tall stack of essays, and he looked up when Harry entered, and told him to sit down.

"You brought the book?"

Harry nodded and pulled it out.

Severus stood up and moved around the front of his desk. He picked the book up and said, "I will only teach you if you promise to abide by my rules, am I understood?"

Biting his lip, Harry nodded, and Snape continued. "Good. The first rule is that you will no longer use physical gestures when words will suffice. When asked a question, I expect an answer."

With a sigh, Harry said, "Yes s s s sir." He had schooled himself to nod and point and shrug along with a number of other mannerisms if he could instead of using words.

"Secondly, you are to pause before you speak, and think about what you say."

"S s sir?" He didn't understand, he always thought before he spoke, or else get hit by Uncle Vernon for stupid comments.

"You were able to do the Wingardium Leviosa charm without words?"

Harry nodded, and then correcting the gesture at the stern look he received, he said, "Yes."

"Then I am correct in assuming that when you think a word it does not form in your head broken."

"Yes."

"Good. Then you will do as I say, and take the time to think on the words you wish to speak before you speak them. Even if it takes you longer to answer a question, pause, rehearse the word in your mind a few times, and when you feel that you have it down, say it."

Severus waited until he received confirmation that Harry had understood, and then went on, "Thirdly, you will begin to offer information freely in my class. Am I understood?"

"Yes s sir."

"That means you will raise your hand and volunteer information instead of me having to pry it out of you."

"Yes s s sir."

"Good. Now take this and read the first paragraph." He handed Harry the charms book and pointed at the paragraph describing the Wingardium Leviosa spell. This was a page Harry knew well and had almost memorized because he had studied it long and hard in bed at night, and between classes, trying to master the spell without words.

"R r read?"

"Out loud."

He peered down at the page and a rock fell into the pit of his stomach. He loved to read, but the one time he'd been asked to read aloud in front of the class in primary school, the entire class laughed at him and the book was snatched from his hands from the teacher before he finished the first sentence.

"Any time Potter," Snape said impatiently, knowing Harry wasn't waiting because he was rehearsing the words in his head.

Slowly and carefully, Harry set to reading the paragraph, trying hard not to mangle the words. It didn't go well because the more he read, the more nervous he got about it. He kept peering up from the book to Snape, and imagined that he saw the man becoming agitated with him as Uncle Vernon usually did.

Halfway through, Harry stopped and set the book down. "I c c c can't s s s sir."

Snape crossed his arms. "Rule number four: you can and you will."

"Y y you c c can't add r r r r rules!"

The man raised an eyebrow and said, "I am the teacher and you are the student. I will decide how many rules are set, and when they are applied. Now keep reading. You will not leave this office for the night until you have read that paragraph out loud to me twice. Remember to pause and think before you speak.

And so it was that Harry sat and stumbled over his tongue and felt more foolish as the night wore on. It was a full half hour before he had read the four sentence paragraph twice. Feeling exhausted, and thinking that he shouldn't, Harry looked up and said, "D d done s sir."

"Good. Bring the book back tomorrow after dinner. I would suggest practicing reading that paragraph out loud to yourself when you get back to your room, and in between classes tomorrow."

Harry gave a groan and stood to leave. "Yes s sir. Th th thanks."

If Harry had felt foolish reading in front of his Potion's Master, he felt even more foolish trying to read out loud to himself in bed that night, and stashed the book under his bed in a hurry when Dean and Seamus entered the dorm to go to bed.

"Who were you talking to Harry?" Dean asked.

"P p practicing sp sp spells."

"Oh, well keep it up. You'll get it soon." Dean tried to give him an encouraging smile, and Harry couldn't deny that he enjoyed the encouragement. Sometimes he got that at the start of the year from his teachers in primary school, but a few weeks in they always seemed to give up on him, and he wondered when the Potion's Master would give up too. As he sat through three more nights of fumbling over the paragraph in front of the man, he almost wished the man would just give up and save him the humiliation.

On the fourth night, Snape said, "Potter, look at me."

Harry's eyes snapped up from the book, and he thought ‘this is it, he's giving in.' Instead of dismissing him however, the man said, "Repeat after me: Harry."

Well that was easy, he thought, as he rambled off his first name perfectly, "Harry."

"Repeat again: Harry Potter."

"Harry P Potter."

"Now close your eyes and think: Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Potter. Think it over and over again for a few minutes. When I say ‘go' say it out loud. Ready..."

Harry closed his eyes and did as he was told, thinking this to be a ridiculous exercise. Just when he thought the word go would never come, Snape said very quietly, "Go," and Harry said, "Harry Potter."

Immediately his eyes snapped open and surprise registered in them. "Harry Potter," He said again, and he couldn't help but notice that surprise registered in the dark eyes before him as well.

"Harry Potter," he said louder. He had never said his full name without a stutter before. In fact, it had taken him many years to say his first name without a stutter.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter!" He jumped up, Charms book falling to the floor and ran from the room, too excited to break his train of thought as he searched out his friend many floors above him.

Five minutes later, panting and out of breath, Harry burst through the portrait hole and shouted excitedly, "Harry Potter!"

People looked up in awe, not understanding what was going on until Ron burst down the stairs to the boys dormitories and said, "Harry?"

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter!" He said it a little more quietly, suddenly feeling the eyes on him, but with no less excitement.

Ron seemed to realize the revelation and laughed. "You did it!"

"Harry Potter!"

"Did what? What's all the racket about?" A stressed looking seventh year rumbled down the stairs behind Ron, wondering what had interrupted his studies.

"He can say his name without the stutter," Ron said proudly of his friend, and then the others in the room understood too, and some laughed at Harry's excitement while a few clapped.

Harry followed Ron up the stairs and laid in his bed all night whispering to himself, "Harry Potter. Harry Potter. Harry Potter. Harry Potter." And in his dreams, he was a normal boy for once, able to do whatever he wanted.

* * *

Severus stretched and stifled a yawn as he poured himself a cup of black coffee in the staff lounge. He grumbled about the lack of sugar and cream, and thought bitterly, another Monday, another pity Potter meeting. It was worth helping the boy, he convinced himself, if only to get back to normal staff meetings where Filch complained about troublemakers and Binns slept through the whole thing, drooling ghostly saliva down his old tunic.

He sat in the more comfortable of the old overstuffed chairs as he watched the other staff filter in sleepily and begin to chat. Of course nobody ever deemed him worthy of chatting with, he thought bitterly as Albus walked in and sat in a large fluffy looking purple chair he had just conjured out of thin air.

"Good morning Severus," he called across the room to the man. The other staff stopped talking, understanding this to be the start of the meeting.

"If you insist Headmaster," Severus said, and took a sip of his coffee.

"What news from Slytherin? Did I hear right that seven of your students have been doing non-stop detention with Argus?"

"They were found levitating a first year upside down after hours."

"Oh? And what first year would this be?"

Severus sneered over at Madam Pomfrey. She knew damn well which one it was.

"Oh do tell Severus," Minerva piped in. "Nobody informed me of the incident."

With an audible grumble, Severus said in a low voice, "Harry Potter."

"Ha!" Minerva slapped her leg in glee and pointed at him. "So you admit it was your students tormenting him?"

Eyes narrow, he said, "When caught in the act I do as demanded of me, which is why they are in the middle of a fourteen day stint cleaning toilets all night."

The woman seemed to grow a satisfied smile as if she had planted the seed long ago and had waited until it had been watered to sprout it's ugly little head out of the ground.

"Speaking of the boy," Professor Flitwick said suddenly, a finger in the air, "do you know what I heard?"

Oh bloody hell, Severus thought, here it came. Somebody had found out he'd been helping the boy. He should have made that rule number six that he wasn't to tell a soul, right after rule number four: No running screaming from the room, no matter what the circumstances.

"I heard his stutter has been getting better!"

"Really?"

"How so?"

"How do you know?"

"Well I heard from a Gryffindor Prefect that he burst into the common room last week shouting his name! Not just Harry, but Harry Potter! And he had no stutter!" McGonagall nodded here to confirm the story that she had also heard from Percy Weasley and a number of other students.

"And how did that happen?" Pomfrey again, and this time she was giving a suspiciously knowing glare at Severus, although nobody noticed.

"Well I heard that friend of his, Ronald Weasley has been helping him," Flitwick supplied.

"Oh really?"

"What a wonderful boy."

Severus snorted, as if this were a rich assumption, which it was, and Minerva looked over at him. "Something to say Severus?"

He rolled his eyes and said, "No, by all means continue making assumptions, I am ever so pleased to take part in another Potter Monday."

She gave him a smug glare and the meeting went on, eventually moving on to the Weasley Twins, who had somehow come up with yet another secret stash of Fanged Frisbees, which had now all be spelled to attack Filch, his cat, or Severus, no matter whom they were thrown at.

At the end of the meeting, not daring to bring it up in front of the others, Severus waited until he and Albus were alone in the room. As he moved for the exit, Severus said casually, "If anybody cares at all, the boy's grades in Potions have increased dramatically."

"Which boy Severus?" Dumbledore had an amused smile on his face.

He rolled his eyes at the man and said, "The Potter boy. The boy that will be the death of me someday."

"Only if you let him Severus," Dumbledore smiled as he walked out of the room.

"Only if I let him," Severus muttered under his breath, and headed out to meet his NEWT class.

It had been three weeks since the start of his private lessons with Professor Snape, and Harry now had the first paragraph of page ten memorized by heart. He had been practicing this one particular spell over and over until he had gotten it right. They had tried the same approach with a number of other spells, which Harry could also now perform without speaking a word, but had not had any luck incanting them aloud.

"Perhaps it is time for a different approach Mr. Potter," Severus was saying one evening after an hour of failed attempts at the Lumos charm spoken aloud. Harry was also still having trouble reading a new paragraph out loud without mangling it badly. He dearly hoped it wouldn't take him weeks to master every spell he was to learn, or else he'd still be in first year when Ron was graduating.

"S sir?"

"Open your book to page fifty seven." Harry opened his Charms book to the middle. They hadn't gotten this far yet in Charms class, and Harry wondered why they were on this page.

"St sticking charms s sir?"

"I want you to sing the first sentence Potter."

Harry's eyes grew large and if not for keeping up appearances Severus might have laughed. Instead he said, "Do not give me that look Mr. Potter."

"B but sir?"

"Recite rule number seven to me Potter."

With a sigh he said, "I will d do as p professor Sn Snape t t tells me."

"I'm waiting," he crossed his arms.

With a frown Harry looked down at the first line and with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach, a high-pitched squeak came out instead of words.

"I don't hear a song filling my office Potter. Keep going."

Harry opened his mouth and tried again, wondering how the melody would come out. "Sticking ch charms were f first in invented by medi w wizards of the day, t to keep th their pat patients st strapped in bed wh when th they w would not stay."

He looked up, surprised that he had not fumbled every word, as he usually did upon reading a new sentence out loud.

"Very good Potter."

Harry paused, thinking, and then said, "How?"

"Singing has been proven to reduce stuttering."

He paused again as he recited words and said, "But I can't s sing all my sp spells sir, or or I'll be a f fool!"

"A fool who passes all of his classes and goes on to graduate school. Or do you wish to be dropped at the end of the year for low grades? Besides, the singing helps, and is not meant to be permanent. It is only meant to get your mind to make the connections necessary for a regular speech pattern to develop. Once your brain gets used to the new connections, the words should come more easily without singing."

He gave Harry a stern look at the doubtful look splayed across his face, and then said, "Try the Lumos charm again... in song."

"One one word?"

"Yes."

Another sigh, and Harry tried to figure out to do what was being asked of him before he sung "Luumooos," from high to low. The tip of his wand lit up, and Snape gave a nod of approval.

"Granted, because of the way some spells need to be pronounced, singing will not be effective with everything, but for reading from now on, you will sing it until you are able to say it, understood?"

Harry groaned, but nodded, lest he have to recite rule number seven again. He couldn't deny that he wasn't happy being able to do more spells now.

And two weeks later he couldn't deny the power of song as he sung to himself all throughout the day and night when he thought nobody was around. He had managed several more charms in class, even new ones, and had even transformed his round pincushion into a square in Transfiguration class. His professors all beamed at him when he did well, except for Snape, but Harry had a feeling that Snape was just as proud of him.

Ron too seemed to be impressed with Snape's tutelage, as Harry was now able to give some unstuttered commands to the chess pieces each night.

"You're getting loads better mate," Ron told him one evening when Harry almost got a whole sentence out without the double up of syllables.

Harry waited, and then said, "Thanks."

Ron grinned. "I reckon he can't be too bad if he's helped you this much." Unfortunately Harry thought to himself, he had been forced to tell Ron about the singing, because Ron had caught him several times singing memorized instructions from spell books at night.

"Thought you were going barmy at first with the songs, but it is helping isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well at least you're doing well. I can't believe you got an O on your last Potion's essay." Ron gestured down at the essay he was trying to complete and said, "I got a D on my last one and I'm sure I'll get another on this one. I mean, who can be expected to memorize the ingredients to bruise balm? Not like we'll ever need to make it with Madam Pomfrey always stocked!"

Harry sat up straight and looked around to make sure they were alone in their little corner of the common room, and quietly sang out, "Yurgon Roooot, swan feathersss, three d drops pineapple, f firefly wingssss."

"Seriously?"

Harry nodded and Ron demanded he sing it again so that he could write it down. "No wonder you're getting good grades in Potions if he's making you memorize the whole text in song!"

"You c can do it t too."

Ron raised a brow, and remembering the upcoming test on Monday, allowed Harry to teach him the melody that he used to memorize this particular potion.

"Great, now I just have to remember the amount of each if he asks for that. Thanks Harry!"

Harry grinned and they continued studying in this vein for a while, Harry stopping every once in a while to sing out a list of ingredients or instructions for Ron to write down.

* * *

"Hey P P P P Potter!"

Harry turned around and glared. This was Draco's favorite way of greeting him, even in the middle of the day.

"What D Draco?"

"Ooh, so you can talk better now? You're almost up to monkey standards you know. Maybe soon they'll let you move into the zoo to live out the rest of your life." He laughed, and Harry continued his glare.

"Know what I think Potter?" He didn't wait for Harry to answer, and said, "I think you won't finish first year. A little less of a stutter doesn't mean much when you still can't do the sp sp spells!" He laughed again at his own imitation of the Gryffindor.

"So why don't I just end it now then? A little jinx to put you out of your misery then? Promise I won't stutter it out and make the pain last long." Several students had come around the corner of the brightly lit corridor, but Draco raised his wand anyway, determined to make a fool out of Harry. But before the words could leave Draco's mouth, Harry had his wand pulled and had shouted, "Expelliarmus!" He didn't know what made him do it. He hadn't been able to manage that spell yet, and Snape had told him it wasn't even taught until second year.

Draco flew backwards, wand flying out of his hand, and his head smacked the wall on the other side of the corridor. Confused, Draco shook his head as students laughed at him and applauded Harry, who finally had a spell go right for him when he needed it to. Harry couldn't help but grin as people slapped him on the back, and Draco got up and ran off to escape the laughter.

"Nice one Potter."

"He deserved it."

"Keep it up."

The news of his defeat of the snotty Slytherin spread like wildfire and soon everyone was congratulating him. This on top of his defeat of the Slytherin team the next day during his first Quidditch match had Harry floating on a high note.

That was until the Halloween feast that night.

Ron was stuffing his face when he received a dirty glare from Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown a little ways down the table.

"What's that all about then?"

Neville spoke up and said, "I heard Hermione Granger's been in the girl's bathroom on second floor crying all day. Something about something you said to her?"

Ron rolled his eyes as he set his roast chicken leg down on his plate. "Oh come on, everybody is tired of her acting like a know it all!"

Just then the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Professor Quirril ran in, pronouncing in a terrified stutter, "T t troll! I in the d dungeons! Thought you ought to know." He promptly passed out just in time to miss the panic that ensued as students rose and screamed, and Prefects were instructed to take their houses straight to their common rooms.

Harry's first panicked thought was, ‘Snape! Snape is in the dungeons!' but with a quick glance around he found him at the Headmaster's side at the staff table, and calmed down a little bit, wondering why he was so worried that his heart was fluttering in his chest like it would give out at any second.

"Come on," said Ron, pulling Harry towards his brother Percy, who had taken charge of their group and was leading them away from the candy laid table.

They were on the second floor, getting read to head up the stairs to the third when Harry grabbed Ron's arm and said, "H Hermione!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh bloody hell, why us?" They ran off in search of the girl's loo and rounded the corner near it just in time to see an enormous, skulking figure slumping inside.

"We must be barmy," Ron groaned, and Harry nodded, before they ran into the bathroom behind the twelve-foot troll.

Hermione screamed as she came out of a stall and saw the beast, and Ron shouted for her to duck as it swung it's club and narrowly missed her head, instead smashing stalls and taking tiles off the walls.

"Do something!" She shouted.

"Do what?"

"Anything!"

Harry stepped forward first and raised his wand to try to use Expeliarmus, but before he could think and get the incantation out, the troll had seized him by the ankle and was hanging him upside down.

"Ron!"

"What? What do I do?"

Harry waved wildly, trying to think a spell out at the troll, but nothing happened, and instead his wand got shoved right up the troll's nose, and he couldn't yank it back out again. He thought Lumos for some reason, and the wand lit up, the light now visible out one of the troll's dim eyes.

Shrieking at the light and trying to shield it's eyes, the troll let Harry go and he slammed into the floor with a crash as the troll fell backwards onto the stone sinks.

"Swish and flick Ron!" Hermione shouted, motioning with her own wand, as she hid under a crushed stall door.

And then suddenly Ron had levitated the Troll's club and dropped it on its head, and the troll had come thundering down, landing with an echoing boom.

Water spewed out of the broken sinks, but other than that it was quiet.

"All right then Harry? Hermione?"

"Yes," they both said as Professor's Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall came around the corner to find the demolished bathroom and the three guilty looking Gryffindors.

"What on earth?" McGonagall was the first to speak and she couldn't even get the rest out as she had put her hand over her mouth in astonishment.

"What is going on here?" Snape demanded in a threatening tone. Harry dropped his head immediately and looked repentant and guilty, Severus had not failed to notice.

"It's all my fault Professors," Hermione said as Ron helped drag her up out of the broken wood that had once been several bathroom stalls.

"Oh?" McGonagall finally seemed able to speak again.

"Yes, well, I'd read all about trolls and I thought I could handle it on my own and, when Ronald and Harry realized what I'd done they came looking for me. Harry stuck his wand up the troll's nose and cast Lumos, and while the troll was blinded by the light Ronald levitated it's club and knocked it out. And I'm very sorry," she added, not wanting to get into trouble by her lie.

"Twenty five points from Gryffindor," McGonagall said at once, "for seeking danger and trouble Ms. Granger." She paused for a moment, and looking as if it may have been against her better judgment, she added, "And fifty points to Gryffindor, for sheer dumb luck."

Harry and Ron looked at each other in awe, before Harry saw Snape's angry face and looked down at his shoes again as if he'd been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

The teacher's ushered the three of them out so that they could take care of the mess and the unconscious troll, but on his way out Harry noticed a deep gash in Professor Snape's leg. He looked up with questioning eyes at the man, but got no response as he was pushed out the door by McGonagall.

As Monday night loomed closer and closer, Harry grew more anxious, and was finding it hard to sing things even without a stutter, and so had given up trying and had gone mostly silent again by dinner time Monday.

"Don't know what you're so worried about," Ron said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Hermione gave him a glare and Ron swallowed in response before he spoke to Harry again. "I mean, we did earn fifty points."

"Twenty five," Hermione said. "We did lose twenty five too."

"Ugh. Do you have to do that?"

Hermione had been hanging around with them since they had defeated the troll in order to save her, but she and Ron still seemed to be having a little trouble getting along.

"Do you have to speak with your mouth full, with food flying everywhere?"

Ron seemed to realize how disgusting it sounded, and refrained from talking through the rest of the meal, which seemed to please Hermione a great deal.

Harry headed off alone to the dungeons at five to six, unsure why exactly he was feeling so nervous.

At the office door, he knocked and was told to enter. He pulled his Transfiguration book out expectantly, since they had switched books now, and waited to be told which page to practice singing.

Snape however, fixed him with a pointed look, not quite a glare, but it definitely seemed as if the man was trying to look through him in some way, and Harry felt like he needed to squirm again to get out from under the gaze.

After a few moments Severus asked, "Want to tell me what really happened in the girl's bathroom Friday night?"

Harry bit his lip and thought that what he'd really like to say was no, but he didn't dare say it to this man who had been helping him and who could withdraw that help at any time.

"Ron said s something mean t to H Hermione earlier. Sh sh she was c crying in in the bathroom wh when we were a all d down at the feast. We r remembered she didn't kn know a about the t troll and went to w warn her. B b but it it was too late. Th th the t troll w was already in there."

"And the rest of the story rings true? Wand up the nose, and knocking it out with it's own club?"

Harry nodded and said, "Yes sir."

"You lied then." It was not a question, but a factual statement.

A shake of his head and Snape said "No? You do not think that withholding truthful information is the same as lying?"

He bit his lip. Well, when it had been put to him that way, maybe it was. But he hadn't thought of it that way before. "I I'm sorry."

"Perhaps. But for lying you will receive one detention. Tonight." He waved his wand and a mop bucket and mop appeared on the floor next to Harry.

Harry looked up, a little hurt in his eyes, but knew that lying was wrong and he could have easily not let Hermione take the blame. He stood and grabbed the mop bucket and mop, and moved out the door to where Snape pointed him. He followed the tall man to a large dungeon classroom he had not yet been in, and set to work mopping the floors, Snape monitoring him from the teacher's desk by the blackboard.

Five minutes into it, Harry was surprised to find the Professor talking to him, much unlike the one previous detention he had served. "Recite the page about the Wingardium Leviosa spell from Charm's book Potter. And no song this time."

"Sir?"

"Eventually you will need to begin reading without the song again. We might as well not waste the night while you scrub. Recite it until you are finished with the floor and then you may go."

Harry knew he could recite it easily, having looked at the page and memorizing it for weeks on end, first trying to do the spell in his mind and then reading it to get better at speaking out loud.

As he scrubbed at a particularly nasty stain in the back corner of the room, he started, "Levitation spells must b be grounded b by a w wizard's life force. Any l living w wizard can levitate any object s so long as th the wizard h himself is not b being levitated by any ch charm, in including on a broomstick. Th this is why a wizard c cannot l levitate h himself with a levitation charm, and why th the charm must b be made ex ex exclusive to an inanimate ob object such as a broomstick, in order to levitate a wizard for a pro pro prolonged period of t t time. Of of course th there are other m means of flight f for a wizard to employ..." he went on for another few minutes reciting the rest of the page, and then started over again. Before he knew it he was at the front of the room mopping under the blackboard and not stuttering at all as he recited.

"Stop."

Harry stood up straight, wondering if he had done something wrong or missed a spot.

"Sir?"

"You just recited five paragraphs without stuttering once."

"I... I did?"

"Yes. Why is that?"

Harry thought and then said, "Don't know."

"Hm."

Severus seemed to think for a few moments, and then asked, "What was going through your mind when you disarmed Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry thought back, and then said, "His wand, his wand, his wand."

"You were not thinking of the spell at all?"

He shook his head. "I j just did it."

"And just now, you were not thinking of the passage, but of mopping, correct?"

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

"Perhaps we have been going about this in the wrong way then."

"Sir?"

"I have been telling you to stop and think of what you say before you say it. But it appears that you are more able to speak when you are not thinking of the words."

"B but I've been getting b better!"

"Yes, after the singing. Perhaps by the same principle. When you put something to song you can sing it automatically after a short while. Words are triggered by the words before them and by the melody, even if you can't remember what comes next a few words ahead of where you're at. I believe then that you are thinking too much about what to say." At the confused look on Harry's face, he continued, "Not in the way you think Potter. There is nothing wrong with stopping to compose your words before they tumble out of your mouth and get you into trouble. Let me ask you this: does the stuttering get worse when you're scared or excited?"

Harry nodded.

"And what are you thinking?"

"It's g going to come out all f f fumbled." This wasn't exactly true. Sometimes he was just too scared to speak properly and knew if he said anything at all he'd be in even more trouble. Harry knew from experience with uncle Vernon, that it was never a good idea to start talking when you were already in trouble.

"And what are you thinking about right now?" He saw the far off look the boy had suddenly gotten, as if he were in another time and place.

He shook his head. "N nothing sir."

Snape eyed him, and Harry wondered if he'd have to scrub the floor again for lying, but the man seemed to remember his promise that Harry could leave once he'd reached the blackboard with the mop, and dismissed him.

* * *

Snow began to drift down over the grounds in mid November, and all around the castle people's spirits seemed to be lifting as the Christmas Holiday drew nearer. They were to leave on the train to go back home December first. Harry wasn't keen on the idea of going back to Privet Drive, even now that he had Dudley's second bedroom, but Ron and Hermione (who now seemed to be very attached to them) were both going home for the break, and Harry had no desire to spend the holiday alone in the common room.

Once his name was on the list of students to go back home for the break, an idea struck Harry, and he was positive it would change his life. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always told him what a stupid boy he was and seemed to hate him for it... but what if he could change their minds? His stuttering was so much better now. What if he could just hop off the train with his good grades in hand and say brightly, ‘Hello Uncle Vernon!' Surely they would treat him better then. Maybe not as good as they treated Dudley, but still, any change had to be for the better. He certainly seemed to be fitting in better here now than he had imagined he would.

Harry practiced singing out his greeting to his uncle for a few days, and eventually switched to saying it out loud to himself. At Professor Snape's suggestion, Harry had been singing up in the air during Quidditch practice, his mind on other things allowing him to get the words out easier. And the best part was that nobody noticed when he was all by himself up in the air hunting for the Snitch.

Professor McGonagall was not the only one who noticed Harry and Ron's increase in performance in class on tests and essays, although their Head of house would never have dreamed that it was because Professor Snape was making Harry memorize text books in song, and Harry was then in turn making Ron do it too. Instead she attributed it to the Granger girl they were now hanging around with, which agitated Severus to no end. Harry asked twice why he must follow rule eight: do not tell a soul except for Ron and Hermione that Snape was helping him. He could see that it bothered the man that people didn't know how exactly Harry was getting better, and yet the man refused to let him tell anybody.

"Maybe he's barmy then," Harry helped Ron heave his trunk down the stairs of the boy's dormitory and set it next to a pile of other trunks of students going home on the train in the morning.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked next to them and said, "Don't be ridiculous Ronald. It's quite obvious that he doesn't want to ruin his reputation."

"Reputation!" Ron sputtered. "Of what? Being a greasy dungeon bat?"

"Of being unfair to other houses and less scary than he actually is. He's better able to keep control over students if they're scared to do anything wrong."

"Right," Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes. "McGonagall doesn't do that you know."

"I seem to remember you saying to Harry yesterday morning that you'd better hurry to Transfiguration because if you were late she'd turn you into a toad. Sounds as if you were a little scared to me." She crossed her arms and Ron smacked himself in the forehead, at a loss for what to say to the girl who seemed to tie his tongue in knots as bad as Harry's was done up.

As Hermione walked off to levitate her own trunk to the pile, Ron turned to Harry and said, "The eight hour train ride with her ought to be pleasant."

Harry laughed as they went back up the stairs to get his backpack. He actually didn't mind Hermione too much. She liked to talk and often filled the quiet between them, and she didn't seem to mind Harry's singing or reciting at all.

The next morning they traipsed down the front lawns through the snow, Harry's bag on his back full of the few Muggle clothes he had, newly repaired by Hermione, along with his Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration book. He knew he couldn't do magic over the break, but he could still read, memorize, and recite. It was almost like a game to him now when he was bored, to see if he could recall the way the books had something worded, or to recite information on command. Hermione had even made a game out of the recitation on the train, which annoyed Ron, who would rather talk about Quidditch instead of school.

Harry was ready for this however, and had brought along the book he had checked out on Quidditch tactics for Seekers, and handed it to Ron.

"O open up a a page then."

Ron flipped through the book to the middle and said, "Ok smarty, what's a flying rhinoceros got to do with seeking?"

Harry grinned and recited off the instructions for the tactic which involved flying straight at the other seeker head on to scare him out of the chase if he had seen the Snitch.

"Not bad," Ron said with a grin. "Only got one or two words out of place, but otherwise spot on!"

At lunch Harry treated his friends to snacks off the trolley, and after that sat back and listened as Hermione and Ron spoke of various wizarding laws and the ministry, some of which his father had helped turn from idea to a written law about Muggles. Harry began to get anxious in the interim. Hello Uncle Vernon. Hello Uncle Vernon. He repeated it in his mind several times. He wanted Christmas to be a pleasant one, and if he could just show them he wasn't stupid anymore...

Finally at King's Cross, Harry met Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were Muggle dentists, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Ron's younger sister Ginny, who blushed furiously when Harry said hello. Standing on tiptoes however, Harry couldn't see any sign of Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or Dudley. He had sent them an owl telling them he'd be home... perhaps they'd gotten the date or time wrong?

"We'll wait here with you Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said when the Granger's walked off towards the entrance. "Just until your family comes."

"They drive a car don't they Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked. Ron had already informed Harry that his father was crazy about Muggle inventions and how they worked, so for the next ten minutes Harry fielded questions about cars, plugs, toasters, and legwarmers.

When the station had emptied out again and there was still no sign of the Dursley's, Harry said, "Th they must have got th the wrong date."

"Not to worry," Mr. Weasley said. "I can apparate you back. All I need is the address."

Harry gave him the address, and said goodbye to Ron's family as Mr. Weasley gripped his arm tight and they turned on the spot.

In the driveway at four Privet Drive, Harry gasped for air. He had not been prepared to feel as if the world was closing in on him during the transport.

"All right there Harry? Looks like your family are home." He pointed to the car in the driveway and the lights on inside the house.

"Thanks Mr. Mr. Weasley," Harry said, snow crunching under his feet as more flakes began to fall from the sky.

"I'll wait until you're in then." He ushered Harry up the walk with a wave of his hand and Harry knocked on the door.

After a few moments the door swung open, and Aunt Petunia stood there looking surprised and suddenly angry.

Quickly Harry turned and waved to Ron's dad, who disapparated with a loud pop, further startling Aunt Petunia.

"Get inside you little wretch!" she hissed.

Harry hurried in and said, "M my train came in t tonight. I kn knew you must have f forgotten." He grinned, hoping she'd heard how little he had stuttered just then, but she glared down at him as she shrieked for Vernon to come into the entry hall.

"We didn't forget boy. You were meant not to come back!" Uncle Vernon lumbered into the hall. Harry's insides fluttered. This was it, his big moment had arrived.

Beaming, he said proudly, "Hello Uncle Vernon!"

Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't take that tone with me boy! Hello my arse! You can just spend the holiday in the cupboard for all I care!"

He seized Harry's thin jacket collar and tried to push him towards the cupboard, but when he reached for the handle, the door wouldn't budge. Quietly Harry had sent the reverse to the unlocking charm at the door. There was no way he was going back inside the cupboard. He had barely fit in there anymore last summer, and knew he'd grown since then.

"The key Petunia, the key!" cried Uncle Vernon as Harry struggled to get free of his grasp, and Uncle Vernon held tight to the small body with out any trouble. Aunt Petunia pulled the key off the nail above the cupboard door, but once inserted in the keyhole, the door still would not budge.

Vernon looked down his nose at Harry, still struggling below, and gave him a sneer. "Don't want to unstick the door then boy? Fine by me. You can spend the holiday out in the garden! And see if I care if you catch sick and die!"

He flung the front door back open and hurled Harry down the front steps. Harry thought he heard a crunch as his ribs broke but couldn't be sure because the front door had slammed closed right behind him, masking the noise. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and examined his hand. It was bleeding a little because he'd tried to stop his fall and it had scraped on the icy steps. His elbow had hit the ground hard too along with his chin, and he was sure he'd have numerous bruises by morning.

"F f f f fine!" he shouted back up at the door.

Suddenly Harry was glad he had had the foresight not to bring his entire school trunk back home with him, and that he had left Hedwig at Hogwarts in the Owlery, although now he silently wished he had her there for comfort.

The kitchen window slid open a moment later and Aunt Petunia said, "Your uncle is calling the police and telling them you're a beggar and to come take you away to the orphanage. I wouldn't be here when they get here if I were you." And then the window had slammed shut again and been locked tight.

Slowly he pushed himself to his feet and started walking, gingerly because he noticed now that his leg was also hurt and he had to limp a little.

Harry thought of going around to the back garden where he knew he could unlock and sleep in the shed, but he would still need food, and if the police were coming they might search there. If he were sent off to an orphanage, he'd never be able to get himself back to Hogwarts at the end of December, so he scratched that idea altogether.

His next thought was Mrs. Figg's house. She had always been kind to him when Aunt Petunia asked her to baby sit while they went away on day trips and on vacations, but Harry didn't think he could stand the smell of old cats for the entire holiday, and wasn't entirely sure she'd take him in anyway.

Hopeless, Harry walked down the street as far as he could and turned into an alley to think in case the police really were coming, so that they wouldn't spot him on the road.

He supposed he could go back to Hogwarts, but how to get there? Did the train even run on Holiday? Did it go other places? Deciding that he could at least try, and ride the train until it went to Hogsmead, Harry set off towards town, shivering in the darkness, and wincing with every step he took because his ribs hurt like hell. This was going to be one long Christmas.

It was four am when Harry got off the bus, and five thirty when he managed to walk the rest of the way to King's Cross station. Thankfully the doors were open because the station stayed open all night, and Harry walked in tiredly, hoping he didn't encounter any Muggle guards, who would know he didn't have a ticket and possibly toss him back out again.

As quietly as he could, Harry made his way to platform nine and three quarters and slipped through the magical barrier unnoticed. He felt in his pockets and knew he only had two sickles left, surely not enough money for a train ticket if the train did continue to run during the break.

Harry sat down against a pillar on the empty platform and pulled his last Pumpkin Pasty and licorice wand out of his bag, and scarfed them down hungrily. He hadn't eaten since lunch, and all the walking and hurting had made him famished and tired.

Wishing he had some water, Harry left his back pack on the floor by the pillar and found a Muggle drinking fountain against a wall, and came back, wondering if he could sleep. He found that he couldn't, too anxious from the night's events, and worried that somebody might possibly steal his only clothes if he did fall asleep. So he sat and watched, and waited.

The old watch on his wrist read nine am when he finally heard the blow of the horn from the train. He stood and looked down the tracks in each direction, and saw the scarlet steam engine lumbering down the tracks through the bright sunlight. So it did run during the break, but would it go back to Hogwarts?

Harry snatched up his bag from the ground and hid behind a pillar as people started to filter onto the platform from the Muggle world. There was a woman with two little children, bouncing around and begging for snacks, and a few men in robes that looked possibly as if they could be from the Ministry.

When the train pulled into the station, several adult wizards, and a few families disembarked, and those already waiting on the platform filed onto the train past a wizard who was checking tickets.

Harry watched for a moment, and then decided to find another way on board. He walked the length of the train as a few more passengers got off, and finally saw his entrance: an unguarded, open door at the very end of the train. Harry knew this was the cafeteria car, and climbed on board with a last quick look to see that he wasn't being watched. The car was thankfully empty, and Harry hurried through the door, looking for a place to hide.

There were cars full of sleeping witches and wizards, obviously tired from traveling all night, and in one car Harry managed a glimpse of the Chudley Cannon's minus their Keeper, all wearing their Quidditch uniforms and chatting animatedly about an upcoming game that day. He couldn't wait to tell Ron.

Finally Harry found a tiny closet halfway along the train. It had a tiny window inside and was full up with mops and brooms and cleaning supplies. Harry clambered inside the tight space and sat down on an upturned bucket, feet up on the wall. This was half the size of his broom cupboard, and he wondered now after his long night in the cold, if it wouldn't just have been better for him to spend the holiday reading in his own little cupboard under the stairs.

For a few minutes Harry waited quietly, looking out the window as more families rushed onto the platform and then onto the train, and then with a lurch, the train began to move forward at a snail's pace. Harry didn't know where they were going, but hoped that eventually the train would return to Hogsmead. With any luck he could be back at Hogwarts eating a hot meal and sleeping in his own bed by tomorrow, or possibly even tonight.

His stomach rumbled as he heard the trolley with food going by and the fat woman who ran it, Matilda, asking people if they'd like breakfast from the cart.

Quietly Harry tried to recite some of the things he had recited for his friends the day before, but couldn't get the words out whole, even in song. He was both worried and anxious, and on edge about being caught, and couldn't talk straight if some one put a spell on him he was sure.

Finally after what felt like forever, but was really only twenty minutes of riding on the train, swaying back and forth, Harry was lulled into a fitful sleep, too exhausted to keep his eyes open any longer.

* * *

Panic. Suddenly Harry was panicking because there had been an explosion, and bright light, and for a moment Harry couldn't remember where he was or figure out what was going on. Then there was a shout, and somebody had hold of the front of his shirt.

Harry opened his eyes as a skinny train steward with pimples and orange hair yanked him out of the cupboard by his shirt and said, "What yeh think yehr doin in there? Stowin' away? Get out ‘ere!"

"W wait," Harry said, remembering that he had been in the broom cupboard without a ticket. The gangly teenager reached down and pulled Harry's bag from the closet, and proceeded to drag Harry down the isle with one hand, bag in the other. Harry thought the boy looked like he might just have graduated Hogwarts.

People stared and gaped as Harry squirmed as he was dragged down the isle. He couldn't get his footing and the grip on his shirt was ironclad. People stuck their heads out of private compartments as Harry stuttered for the steward to stop and let him go.

"N n n n no! St st stop! I I I I I h h h h have t t t t to g g g g get b b b b back t t t t t to H H Hogwarts!"

"Not wifout a ticket yeh don' yeh little wretch!"

Harry struggled again and was just about to burst into a fit of tears, pleading for the steward to stop dragging him because his ribs burned so badly, when a door opened to their left and a wonderfully familiar voice asked, "Mr. Shunpike?"

The steward stopped and seemed to freeze as he saw his old Potion's Professor. "Yes sir? Something I can get for you?"

"An answer. Why are you dragging Mr. Potter unceremoniously down the train."

"Potter?" Shunpike looked down at Harry and squeaked in horror as he dropped Harry and let him crash to the floor. "Ow come yeh didn' tell me yeh was ‘Arry Potter!?"

Harry lay there, tears finally streaking down his face and panted, trying to overcome the pain his in ribs.

Shunpike looked up suddenly into Snape's eyes and said, "I didn' mean no ‘arm Professor Snape sir. E's a stowaway! Caught ‘im hidin' in a broom cupboard skulking abou'!"

Snape looked down at Harry, who was trying to hide his tears, and then receded back into his compartment. Harry gave a sob, believing his Professor to be abandoning him in his time of need, but a moment later the man reappeared with a handful of gold coins and said, "I will purchase his train ticket. Bring us a tray of hot food and a pitcher of cold pumpkin juice Mr. Shunpike."

"Yes sir!" The teen hurried away down the car and Severus reached down and lifted Harry from under the arm.

"In here Potter. Come on, it's over, sit down.

Harry sat on the bench opposite his Professor and ran his sleeve across his eyes to wipe the tears away. He hated to cry in front of anyone, but he was just so flustered and his ribs had hurt so much he couldn't help it.

After Harry had been given a few moments to calm down and compose himself, Severus asked, "What happened Potter?"

Harry shrugged, and Severus said, "What is the first rule?"

He shook his head. He knew very well what the first rule was and that he was to use words, not gestures, but he didn't even want to attempt speaking at the moment.

"Mr. Potter, I just paid two Galleons for your train ticket. I do expect some answers. Why were you hiding in the broom cupboard?"

Harry sniffed, trying to keep snot from running down his face, and said, "N n n n n n no m m m m m money." The boy looked exhausted just from trying to get the sentence out, and Severus noticed how frustrated he was not to be able to spit it out. The boy was obviously flustered, because just two days ago he was speaking with ease and was coherent enough to easily understand.

"Deep breaths Potter," Snape commanded him. "You need to calm yourself and think of what you're going to say."

Harry shook his head again. "C c c c c c c c can't."

"Look at me." Harry's eyes snapped up and met the dark ones of the older face. "Yes you can."

He hiccupped a little and took a long shuddering breath. Why couldn't he just go to sleep and wake up back in his bed at Hogwarts?

Harry felt relieved when the door slid open to reveal the fat lady with the trolley, bearing a tray full of hot food and a tall pitcher of icy pumpkin juice, because it spared him having to answer more questions for the time being.

"Here you go dear," she said kindly, handing the plate over to Harry. She set the pitcher and two glasses down on a tray she conjured from thin air and left them alone again.

Harry looked around and realized that Snape didn't have any food. Perhaps she had given the plate to Harry by mistake? Not wanting to eat the man's lunch, Harry tried to hand the plate to him.

"No, you look like you haven't eaten, it is for you." With this proclamation Harry wasted no time in removing the lid from the tray to find steaming hot mashed potatoes with gravy, hot corn, and sliced turkey smothered in gravy. He dug in with gusto and Severus knew his assumptions had been right.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Harry chewed and swallowed, and thought hard before he said, "E e e early. P p p pumpkin p p p p p pasty."

"Leftover from the train ride?"

Harry nodded again. "And the last time you ate before that?" Obviously the boy must have been desperate to snack on sweets for breakfast.

"On on th th the t t t t t t train."

"And your relatives did not feed you in between?"

"N n n n no."

Harry tried to look fully concentrated on his food for a while, hoping the man might not ask any more questions. But too soon the food was gone and Harry felt like he might be sick because he had eaten too much after not eating for so long.

"Where did you plan to go on the train."

"H h h h h home."

Snape raised his brows and Harry said, "H H H H Hogwarts."

This statement clearly said all that Harry had meant it to. If he considered school home, then he wasn't getting what he needed from his relatives. Something else panged annoyingly in the back of his mind, reminding him of what Dumbledore had once told him about Harry needing to stay with his family in order to be protected.

"What happened when you got back to your aunt and uncle's house?"

Harry shook his head, not wanting to answer.

"If you wish me to help I need to know. Both the Headmaster and your Head of House are unreachable for the next two weeks, which leaves you in my charge. If you expect me to get you back to Hogwarts, I need to hear the truth.

With a sigh that clearly said he was giving in, Harry launched into the story of how nobody had showed up for him on the platform, Mr. Weasley had apparated him home, and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia proceeded to chuck him out the front door and call the police. He then recounted how he spent the last of his Muggle money on a bus and waited on the platform for the train to pull in so he could sneak on board. It was a full ten minutes before he could get it all out, and he was thoroughly frustrated by the end of it.

Snape seemed to sit in thought for a while and Harry wondered what he was thinking about over there on his bench. After a few minutes Harry couldn't keep himself from falling into another doze, every muscle in his body begging him to do so.

Severus watched as Harry fell asleep while waiting for him to say something, anything at all. He understood know why the boy had reverted back to stuttering even worse than when he had started speech therapy with him two months ago. Hopefully he would regain his confidence and gain ground quickly again, perhaps even by the time they got back to Hogwarts. Normally he would have sent a runaway straight home again, but it was obvious now that this was not to be the case.

He could take him back to Hogwarts later tonight when the train turned around, and stick him back in Gryffindor tower to spend the holiday alone, but after the trauma the boy had suffered, he didn't feel right about leaving him alone like that. What other option was there then?

A groan escaped his lips, unnoticed by the boy, as he realized the option that had come to mind. Surely not, he told himself. A Potter in his house? He had just purchased the house a few years ago, and by the end of the break the brat might have it demolished like the bathroom at Hogwarts after the troll. But there were no other options. Albus was away on some exploratory journey of Africa looking for some old Shaman, and Minerva was in America visiting some silly niece of hers who had moved away to marry some young man who wasn't a wizard and worked in a Muggle bank.

He let the boy sleep until he woke of his own accord, which was at the next train stop, and then gazed steadily at him for a short while longer as the boy looked out the window.

"You have an option Mr. Potter."

Harry looked over, wondering what had finally broken the silence. Seeing that he wasn't going to say anything, and that he at least had his attention, Severus said, "You may go back to Hogwarts on the train tonight for another 12 hour ride, or you continue on to Wendron with me."

His brow furrowed. Wendron? What was there? And then a silly idea struck him that he was being invited to stay with his professor for Christmas. Nobody had every invited him anywhere so he tossed the notion aside. Perhaps there was an orphanage in Wendron that he was going to drop him off at.

"T t to an an an orph orphanage?"

Severus gave him a glare. Silly boy. He would not wish an orphanage life on even his worst enemy.

"To my home Potter. There is a spare room that you may use until the start of the term. Otherwise I will buy you another ticket to Hogwarts this evening when the train turns around."

Harry bit his lip to keep his answer from spilling out. Of course he'd like to stay with Snape. He had been very nice to him teaching him and helping him with the train ticket, but he was sure it was a trick.

"H h how m m much f f farther?"

"We are almost there now. It is a short distance to apparate from the train station."

Harry looked out the window again and Severus wasn't sure if he was thinking, or ignoring him. But finally after a few minutes he said, "Ok."

"Ok what Mr. Potter? A train ticket North or Wendron?"

"W W W Wendron."

Severus nodded and said, "Be ready to disembark then." Just then the train slowed down, and after a few minutes came to a complete stop. He wasn't kidding when he said they'd be there soon, was he, Harry thought to himself.

They stood and Snape lead the way out of the car and off the train, where he lead Harry into a nook behind a vending machine and gripped his arm, disapparating with him and appearing again on a little country lane surrounded by fields.

"W w where?" Harry asked as Snape let go of his arm and they began walking forward.

"Rowe's Lane Wendron. The house is just ahead." He pointed to a neat little two story house, with an overgrown garden in the front. The house was brick with black trim on the roof and black shingles. Harry took one look at it and thought that he liked it very much.

After a short walk they were there and Snape lead the way inside, incanting several anti intruder spells as he unlocked the front door.

Inside was a small entryway with dark hardwood floors. A doorway to the left revealed a sitting room. Aside from this there was nothing else but a flight of stairs going up to the second level, and a short hallway straight ahead with two more doors leading off, one on each side.

"The kitchen is to the left at the end of the hall and my study is to the right. You may not enter the study without permission first. If you go outside, inform me first, and stay out of the garden unless you wish to get hives from the poisonous plants there."

Harry looked around. Those rules didn't seem too bad. He hadn't mentioned what and when Harry would be cleaning yet, but the place already seemed much more inviting than Privet Drive.

He was motioned to follow Snape upstairs, and on the second landing he found four more doors. "This is the bathroom," Snape explained, pointing to the first door on the left. "Do not enter this room under any circumstances," he warned, pointing at the second door on the left. He opened a door to the right and said, "This will be your room while you're here. My room is the door at the end of the hall."

Harry stepped into the guest room and found a comfortable looking twin bed, a wardrobe, a small fireplace in the corner, a window overlooking the fields and meadows, and a nightstand.

Snape waved his wand and conjured a desk with a chair and hovered it under the window, and then conjured a soft brown area rug right under the bed to cover the cold hardwood floor.

"Th th thank y y y y you," Harry said, frustrated that he couldn't talk again.

"When you have dirty laundry call for Mitzi."

"S s sir?"

"Mitzi!" Snape spoke to thin air and there was a crack that startled Harry as a small house elf wearing a clean little gray and black uniform appeared.

"Master is home!" She ran forward and hugged Snape's legs tightly, surprising Harry.

"Mitzi, this is Harry Potter. While he is here you are also to obey him as you would me... within reason," he added, thinking of all the damage the boy could do to his house if he ordered the little elf to do crazy things.

The house elf turned to Harry and bowed and said, "Mitzi is pleased to meet you sir!"

Harry smiled tiredly and said, "Y y y y you t t too Mmmmmitzi."

The elf didn't seem to notice Harry's stutter, for which he was very pleased.

She turned back to Snape and he asked her to fetch groceries from the store, and she nodded before vanishing with another loud crack.

"I suggest that you wash and then rest. Lunch will be served when Mitzi returns."

Harry nodded and Severus made to leave, but Harry threw his hand into thin air to stop him and said, "Th th th thanks."

Severus gave him a look as if wondering what on earth there was to be thankful for. "Yes, you already said that Mr. Potter. Wash and rest and I'll fetch you for lunch in an hour."

Harry sat down on the foot of the soft bed and marveled at how his day had turned out. He finally had a feeling of certainty about him, although about what he didn't know. Forgetting to wash Harry lay back on the bed and fell to sleep almost immediately.

Author's Note: Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews. To those of you concerned about Harry's rib, have patience... that was coming later and was a piece of chapter Eight, meant to be delayed. And for those suggesting bruised ribs instead of broken, it seems as if Harry is in less pain because he's used to pain. This is not the first time he's had broken ribs from Uncle Vernon, and some people have a higher pain tolerance than others do. Thank you again for all of the reviews.

P.S. Check out the floorplans for the house I made in the offical author's note above!

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Harry did not want to get out of bed. Lunch be damned if it was going to cause him pain sitting up and walking all the way down the stairs. He scratched his head tiredly as his professor stood in the doorway to the room at the foot of the bed looking down at him, waiting for him to obey and get out of bed. Finally deciding that he'd better to as he was told, or possibly be shipped back to Hogwarts anyway, he sat up with some effort and tried not to wince as the broken bones in his chest jabbed at him.

Once up Harry followed Snape downstairs and into the long narrow hallway. They went through the living room, which had a door into the dining room. This room was good sized, but had a simple rectangular wooden table and four wooden chairs to match, all the same color as the dark reddish wooden floors. There was a shelf on one wall with a few trinkets on it, and an empty picture frame above that. Harry wanted to ask about the empty frame, but didn't as he was motioned to take a seat at the table.

Just like at Hogwarts, the second they sat down to eat, food appeared before them. There was a plate full of a variety of sandwiches, and a pitcher of cold milk, along with two other plates and two glasses.

Harry waited for Snape to serve himself first before he took half a sandwich, and then he waited for the man to take his first bite so that he could eat. This was always the rule at the Dursleys, that Harry couldn't eat until every other member of the family had taken their first bite. Sometimes he wasn't allowed at the table even and had to stand at the kitchen counter to eat.

"Mmmmmmitzi is is a a good c c cook."

Snape nodded. "She used to work at Hogwarts."

"Y y you b b bought h h her in instead?"

"Hired Potter. I do not buy and trade house elves like many wizards do. She is a free elf and is free to return to Hogwarts or leave my employ at any time."

"Oh oh." Harry looked down and Severus realized that he had spoken in a harsh tone. He hadn't meant to, but house elf slavery was just one of those buttons easily pushed with him. He knew what it was to be slave to a cruel master, and swore he would never be the same and force another, even an elf, to endure the role of slave.

"I do not approve of house elf slavery, as you can tell Potter. I was merely letting you know that I pay her every month whatever salary she asks."

"O o ok."

"Finish your sandwich and I will show you the rest of the property."

Harry forced down the last few bites of his half sandwich and sat quietly waiting for Snape to finish eating. He wasn't really hungry, and it hurt to feel the food sliding down into his stomach past the broken ribs.

After a few minutes, Snape stood and beckoned Harry to follow him through the second doorway in this room, which lead to a tidy little kitchen, and through another door to a back yard. It hadn't been kept since Snape had been at Hogwarts, but with a wave of his wand the grass greened up, cut itself, and looked wonderful again, even for the middle of winter.

Standing on the back porch Professor Snape pointed out a small field beyond the large yard and said, "That field is part of this property all the way to the small thicket of trees. Beyond that is a rock fence and shows the edge of the property." He pointed to the left towards more fields and continued, "The property continues not to the first rock fence, but the second one over there. You'll know you've reached the end of it when you see the fence bordering the small stream. The other property boundaries are the road that we walked up. If you wish to explore, feel free, but stay on the property and inform me before you go out."

"Th thank y y y y you s s s sir."

Severus grumbled. He hated the constant thanking and apologizing the boy did for no apparent reason at all. Noticing that Harry had his arms wrapped around himself because he didn't have a jacket, Severus motioned him back inside and lead him back into the hallway and into his study.

Harry's first thought of the large room was that he liked it very much. There were mismatched bookshelves lining every wall, except where the desk was set under the window. Each shelf was full of books with interesting titles like: ‘A Tibetan Shaman's Guide to Healing Herbs', and ‘Moste Potente Potions'.

"You may come in here if I am in here," Severus told him. "You may read any books but the ones on the top shelves. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded, feeling sorry that he would not be able to pull down the ancient copy of Moste Potente Potions and see what was inside because it was on the top shelf, but contented himself knowing he was allowed to read the other books in the house. The Dursley's never let him read any of their few books, and Dudley had ruined so many of Harry's library books in the past that his card had been revoked.

"I suggest you start on some of your Christmas homework so that you may spend the rest of the holiday freely." Harry's head snapped up. Hogwarts seemed like ages away... as if he'd not been there in months, and wouldn't be back for years. He had completely forgotten about the five assignments he had due on the first of January when the term started again.

"Y y y yes s s s s sir."

As Harry exited the room and Severus heard him going up the stairs and into the guest room, he wondered at how much worse the stuttering had gotten. He wasn't even able to say ‘yes' now, as he had been able to do before. He had a feeling the boy was holding back on what had really happened in Little Whinging.

* * *

Harry had made it through his Potions essay when he felt like he couldn't do anymore and fell back onto the bed, exhausted. His ribs hurt, his body ached, and his head felt as if someone was pushing in on all sides, trying to smash it like a watermelon under a car tire.

He drifted in and out of sleep for what felt like hours, and finally woke up to the prodding of his Potions Professor.

"Potter... wake up."

His eyelids felt heavy, like someone had tied weights to them, and he barely managed to get them open. The room was dark and he wondered just how long he had slept.

"T t t t t t t t time?"

"Eight o'clock. I checked on you at dinner but thought I'd let you sleep and eat later."

"N n n n not h h hungry."

Severus stood up and noticed how pale the boy was, along with the beads of sweat on his forehead. He startled Harry when he placed his hand on his forehead to feel for a temperature, and Harry didn't seem to hear him at all when he told him he was running hot.

"You are ill."

"Huh?"

Pulling out his wand, he transfigured Harry's clothes into pajamas, pulled his shoes off, and waved the lamp on the nightstand up. Harry didn't seem to care until he went to lift him so that he could put the boy under the covers instead of laying on top of them all night.

"Ahh! Ahh! Nooooooo!"

Startled Snape jumped back a little.

"What's wrong Potter?"

Harry gave a sob and clutched at his chest, wrapping his arms around himself.

Pulling out his wand again Severus ran a diagnostic spell on him and was surprised to find two broken ribs along with bruises hidden by his shirt. He had seen the bruises on the boy's face and one arm and rubbed bruise balm on them while he slept earlier, but why hadn't Potter told him of the broken bones?

"You have two broken ribs," he said, arms crossed.

Harry moaned again, and said, "I I I I kn kn know. D d d d don't li li lift m m m m me."

"Why did you not tell me? I could have healed them with a spell, but now you've got internal bleeding from walking around like that all day."

When he didn't get an answer he waved his wand over Harry's chest and said a spell he was well practiced in. He had had to heal his own body too many times after encounters with the Dark Lord to not know proper healing spells. Harry seemed to relax a little and Severus left the room, returning a few minutes later with a tray covered in various jars and potions.

"Drink this," he said, helping to lift Harry's head and sip down a blue potion in a strangle shaped phial."

"Wh what?"

"To stop the internal bleeding. Take this too," he held out a hand of something slimy and pinched Harry's nose as he swallowed it down and made a face. "Tangleweed for the cold you got walking around in the cold all night."

Harry watched as he turned to the tray again and uncorked yet another phial, this one orange and murky looking. "Drink this, and DON'T, spit it out," he warned. Harry choked down the potion and shot the man a dirty look.

"Don't give me that look Potter. You needed the vitamins to help you heal properly." He handed Harry a glass of water to help wash down the taste, and then unscrewed a jar of bruise balm. Harry recognized the cream as the same he'd been given in Snape's office at Hogwarts.

Severus pulled up the front of Harry's shirt, making him wince, and said, "Yes, you'll be sore for the next few days. It wouldn't have been so if you'd told me sooner." He started rubbing the cream on the bruised rib area and then made Harry roll over (with another dirty look) so that he could do his lower back, where he had also been bruised from the fall down the steps at Privet Drive."

On his back again a few minutes later, Harry waited for Snape to return again from wherever he had taken the empty potions bottles to. He hurt much less now, but still ached everywhere, and his stomach seemed unsettled from the many potions he'd taken.

"I'm g g g gonna b be s s s sick," Harry warned the man as he came back into the room, but Snape was ready for him and had one last phial, this one full of pink, frothy liquid.

"I know. Drink this, it will help."

Harry took it eagerly and was pleased to find that it was cotton candy flavored. It was a few moments but his stomach calmed, and he was able to relax, head on a soft pillow, damaged body covered by soft, warm blankets.

"You will be fine in an couple of days, but you will need bed rest in order for your wounds to heal properly. And when you are well again you will clean Mitzi's room from floor to ceiling for lying to me."

"N n n n no l l l lie s s s s s sir!" Harry said indignantly.

"Remember the troll?" Harry nodded, and Snape said, "And what did we discuss then? Withholding the truth is just the same as a lie. I expect you to tell me things like, ‘Professor, I have broken ribs,' when you are under my care. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded and wondered if that meant at Hogwarts as well. Nobody had ever cared if he was hurt before, except Madam Pomfrey. The Dursley's had laughed at him when he had asked to go to the doctor the time Dudley had pushed him and he'd broken his leg in the back yard, and they had never done anything to take care of him when he'd been sick or had other broken bones. It was almost disconcerting to have someone care what happened to him now. And then there was that feeling of certainty again. Harry squirmed under the man's gaze and wondered what exactly he was certain about. He never thought he'd be uncertain about certainty.

After a promise to check in on him later, Snape left him alone to his thoughts, and Harry drifted off to a more peaceful sleep, not full of pain and the strange dreams that always accompanied illness.

* * *

It was almost four am when he was woken by a strange noise. What was that? An intruder? A student out of bed? No, he wasn't at Hogwarts.

Severus rose from bed and wrapped his bathrobe around himself tightly, and went into the darkened hallway, wand in hand. There was the sound again. Harry, he thought, and opened the boy's bedroom door to find him on his side on the hardwood floor next to a puddle of sick.

"T t t t tried, b b b bathroom," he stuttered, face red in shame.

"It's all right Potter," Severus said, waving away the mess with his wand and then helping Harry back into the bed. "You've got a cold and four potions in your stomach, it was not unexpected."

Harry was still pale and Severus ran the diagnostic spell one more time just to be sure he'd gotten everything. The boy's body was healing fine, and it was as he had thought, too many potions for an already weak stomach.

He disappeared for a minute, and Harry was confused, because he hadn't seen the man leave, but then he was back again with another dose of the cotton candy flavored potion, and Harry took it without complaint, relief spreading over him when his stomach calmed once again.

"Better?" He nodded, and Snape said, "Go back to sleep. You will feel better in the morning."

Severus rubbed his temple as he lay in bed a few minutes later. He wasn't used to taking care of a child. He wasn't used to anybody at all being in his house but him and Mitzi, and he couldn't deny that he was a little stressed. Old thoughts from before Christmas came swirling back into his mind, and he agreed with himself again that Potter would be the death of him, how he wasn't sure, but he was certain at least.

* * *

Harry was surprised to find that Mitzi's room was through a hidden door under the stairs that lead into a large storage area, and then into an even larger room.

There was a small bed low to the ground, still much to large for Mitzi, but too small for Harry. It was covered in a pink blanket with silver sparkling stars. There were also glittery stars all over the walls and ceiling. The room was painted in varying shades of pink stripes running from floor to ceiling, some wider than others. There was a little desk and a little wardrobe, and even a little bathroom behind another wall. A window set at Mitzi's height looked out over the countryside past a tree, and a little door next to that lead onto a small, Mitzi sized porch, which Harry was informed, was hidden from view from Muggles who might see it walking down the dirt lane.

If not for all the pink and glitter, Harry thought that he might like the room very much.

Under Mitzi's watchful eye, Harry scrubbed down the floors, walls, and ceiling, as well as washed all of her laundry by hand as soon as he was able to get out of bed and stand straight for more than a few minutes without falling over.

"A very good job Harry Potter," Mitzi commented when he was done. "As if you had been born and raised a house elf too! Mitzi is proud!" She hugged him around the middle and escorted him back through the closet and out under the stairs.

Harry found Snape in his study reading a thin brown book and was given permission to enter. Plopping down in an overstuffed chair, Severus eyed him and asked, "Are you done?"

"M M M Mitzi s s says I I I'm g g g good as as a a a h h house e elf."

"Hm..." he trailed off.

They spent the rest of the day in the study, Severus reading and Harry finishing homework. It was his fifth day there and he was glad that all of his homework was now finished, although what he'd do now he wasn't sure.

To answer his question the next day, Severus informed Harry that they were going to Diagonalley.

"I have a few errands I need to run, and I believe you said you were out of money. We can make a trip to your vault in Gringotts, and then spend a few hours in the shops."

Harry was excited. He liked the winding alley full of witches and wizards, and had only been there once with Hagrid. He even enjoyed the breakneck, whiplash ride down to his vault at Gringotts.

After breakfast Severus apparated them both to the snowy alley and Harry wondered why the man took the train all the way from Hogwarts if he could have apparated. When he asked after they had gotten out of Gringotts however, Snape had only said that he enjoyed the train ride after a long term.

They went into the apothecary first, where Snape bought many boxes of ingredients and had them sent by floo to his office at Hogwarts. Next they made their way in and out of a line of shops, including a small one-roomed joke shop Harry insisted on going into, where Snape prevented him from buying a fanged frisbee with a poisonous look, and finally allowed him to buy a pouch of stink powder with a roll of his eyes and a warning not to use it in his house or during Potion's class.

They went into the Quidditch store, where Harry eyed a new broomstick one model higher than his own, and then drooled over a poster of a team clad in red and silver, ‘The Woodson Terrace Griffons.' It was an American team from Missouri, but Harry had been following them since Ron had introduced him to all the well known teams competing for the Quidditch World Cup. Ron was loyal to the Chudley Cannons, but Harry couldn't stand all the orange, and instead had fallen for the Harlem Shuffle play that seemed to be popular amongst the American's.

"Wh wh who d d do y y you su support s s sir?" Harry asked as he was lead into a two story clothing shop across the street from Olivanders and next door to Fortescue's Ice Cream.

"The Applyby Arrows."

"W W Woodson T T Terrace b b beat th them out out f for s second in in the c cup l l last y year," Harry said.

"I'm well aware," Severus said as he pushed the door to the clothing store open.

Harry was told that his clothing was unacceptable to stay warm in the winter and was instructed to pick out several new long sleeve shirts, some short sleeve shirts, long and short pants, and a new coat and cap for when he needed to go outside.

New money jingling in the pouch tied to his belt, Harry did as he was told, pleased to be buying his first ever new clothes. He loved his new robes, but he had never had new Muggle clothing before.

It wasn't long before Harry had a new wardrobe stacked on the counter and was pulling out his money to pay, but Severus put out a hand to stop him.

"I will pay half," he said.

Harry frowned, but before he could ask why, Snape told him, "I am the one forcing you to buy new clothes, and therefore I will pay half."

The clerk totaled up the sale and Severus laid down a handful of Galleons, daring the clerk with his eyes to tell Harry that he had paid ninety percent of the bill. The clerk asked Harry for seven sickles and then bagged up the clothing, shrunk them to fit in a pocket, and handed them to Snape.

"C c can w we g go s s somewhere t to g g g g get s s something f for M M Mitzi?" He looked frustrated again with how long the sentence took to come out, but Severus nodded, surprised that Harry wanted to buy the house elf something.

Harry lead the way down the storefronts until he saw a shop filled with decorations and went inside. Severus watched as Harry picked out the pinkest, gawdiest thing he could find, a pink plastic chandelier with streamers hanging off the bottom of each arm. Instead of candles it had fake candles with light bulbs. The clerk asked Harry if he knew this was an item that only ran on Muggle electricity, and Harry nodded. He had seen an outlet in Mitzi's room. He paid the four sickles and ten knuts for the item and had Snape shrink it down to fit in a pocket, as well as put a protective charm on it so that it wouldn't break.

Back in Wendron, Harry was careful to hide Mitzi's chandelier inside his backpack in a sock so that she wouldn't find it. He had never given anybody a Christmas present before, and he was looking forward to it. He remembered trying to give a paper airplane to Dudley when they were small, but Dudley laughed and sat on it, smashing it into the couch.

* * *

In the remaining week and a half until Christmas, Harry spent his time reading his textbooks and some of the books Snape pulled out for him off the shelves in the study, playing wizards chess with his Professor, talking with Mitzi, and helping make potions for the new term that would be used in the Hospital Wing.

"Don't let me see any of these being used on you Potter," Snape warned him on Christmas Eve as they bottled the last anti-inflammatory potion in a large bottle and stored it in a divided wooden box, packing hay from the field around it.

"No s sir," Harry said.

Snape tried to hide a smile, and faltered a little bit, but Harry didn't notice. Sometime in the last few days Harry's stutter had begun to subside again, even though they had not been doing more speech therapy. Severus had a feeling that speech therapy wouldn't help the returned stutter as much as a calm, reliable, environment would, and it seemed that he was right. The more comfortable Harry grew there, the better his speech seemed to become.

Mitzi made a Christmas feast, which Snape asked her to join in on and she refused, saying that she needed to start cooking for the next day instead.

"Master Snape is too kind," she said as she backed out of the room and left them to their feast.

"Are we t taking the train again?" Harry asked. They were going back to Hogwarts a couple of days after Christmas, and Harry didn't fancy another long ride.

"No. We will apparate, unless you wish me to drop you off at King's Cross so that you can ride home with your peers."

Harry shook his head. He didn't fancy Apparation, but it was a two second alternative to a long train ride. King's Cross was hours from Wendron, and Hogwarts was eight or nine hours from King's cross.

"Have your things packed then and ready to go by Friday night so that we can go back.

Snape had preformed a charm on Harry's backpack, not only making it look new, but also magically enlarging the inside so that Harry could fit all of his clothing inside, and the bag didn't weigh anymore than it normally would.

As Harry got ready for bed that night, he heard a tapping at his window, and was pleased to see Hedwig sitting on the ledge, two packages tied to her legs. Harry hurried over to her and greeted her warmly, stroking her feathers and closing the window as it began to snow outside.

"What h have you got there g girl?"

He looked at the writing on the paper wrappings and saw Ron's name as well as Hermione's and a note not to open them until Christmas morning. Harry had picked up two gifts on Diagonalley and borrowed Snape's brown owl Job to send them off to his friends.

The packages from his friends carefully set at the foot of his bed, Harry climbed under the covers and fell asleep stroking Hedwig.

* * *
Severus was surprised to find the snowy owl sitting on the pillow next to Harry's head, and two packages wrapped in brown on the floor at the foot of his bed the next morning. When had the owl gotten there?

He woke Harry up and instructed him to bring his presents downstairs to the living room.

When they got downstairs Severus was surprised again to find a fully decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the room across from the soft brown couch, along with a tray of muffins, cookies, and hot cinnamon rolls on a tray on the coffee table with two plates and silverware.

"Wow," Harry said, looking around. When had Snape done this?

"It seems Mitzi has decided to decorate," Severus said dryly as he sat on the couch and looked at the sweets on the tray. He expected Harry to reach for the cookies or cinnamon rolls first, but he took a blueberry muffin instead and was careful not to get crumbs on the table as he sat on his knees and ate it.

"Can we open presents now?"

Severus raised a brow at the boys excited tone and lack of a stutter, and nodded, watching as Harry tore into his present from Hermione, which was a thick tomb about Quidditch teams and the history of the sport, and then into Ron's package, which was a used pair of Quidditch gloves Harry's size, and a knit red sweater with the letter H on the front.

"H he says the sweater is is from his mum," Harry supplied, trying on the soft leather gloves and admiring them even though they appeared well worn.

Mitzi appeared with a pop then carrying a tray with two cups and a pitcher of coffee and a pitcher of hot chocolate.

Harry quickly fumbled in his pajama pocket for the chandelier and asked Mitzi to please close her eyes. When she had done so he looked to Snape, who enlarged it to full size. When told to do so, Mitzi opened her eyes and Harry presented her with the gift.

Severus thought the elf would have a conniption fit right there on the spot. Her eyes enlarged and she started to cry as she jumped up an down and squealed, clapping her hands.

"Oh! Oh! Mitzi loves it! Mitzi will go put it on the ceiling right now! Oooohhhh!" She gave Harry a quick hug, took the pink chandelier and disappeared out the door, squealing all the way.

Harry laughed and looked up to Snape to see if he approved, and was not disappointed to see the corners of his lips upturned, if even only a little bit.

"There is one more gift Potter," Severus pointed out a long thin box under the tree.

Harry crawled over to see his name on the box and tore off the green and silver paper it was wrapped in to find the very poster that he had been admiring in the Quidditch store of the Woodson Terrace Griffons. This present seemed to excite the boy most of all, and Severus listened as Harry stuttered on about how he finally had a poster of his own to put up in the boy's dormitory next to his bed. Harry thanked him many times over, and Snape again wondered what there was to be thankful about a one-sickle piece of paper.

When they sat down at the dining room table for a real breakfast not made of sweets half an hour later, Harry pulled something out of his pajama pocket and shyly handed it across the table to his Professor.

Severus looked down at the item oddly and wondered why the boy was giving him a golden Snitch.

"I wanted you t to have it s sir." Harry said quietly. "It's the f first Snitch I I ever caught."

Knowing how the boy loved the game, and how much he must have valued the first Snitch he ever caught and won a game with, Severus suddenly understood the meaning of the gift.

"F for helping me sir," Harry clarified.

Severus set the ball down gently on the table in front of him and said quietly, "Thank you Harry."

Harry grinned at the use of his first name and dug into his plate of eggs, bacon, and country gravy. The tree, the gifts, the food, and Snape, Harry suddenly realized, had made for the best Christmas he'd ever had. And adding Snape onto the end of that list suddenly made Harry realize what the certainty was all about. He could have done without the tree, gifts, and food, as he had always managed before, but he didn't think he could have done without Professor Snape.

Severus wondered why the boy had suddenly gotten so shy after breakfast, but didn't complain as they sat and played Wizard's chess through the afternoon. He hadn't died, and the house hadn't burned down yet, so all in all he wasn't as stressed out as he thought he should be for having Harry Potter in house for almost a month. And the Snitch... a meaningful Christmas gift from the son of his enemy. No, not such a bad Christmas all in all. And as he watched Harry climb the stairs that evening to go to bed, he wondered how he had managed to get through all the many other Christmases before this without somebody else in his house keeping him company, and giving him golden Snitches at the breakfast table. Uncertainty flooded him, as he stared at the Snitch and the tree, and wondered what next Christmas would be like.

He cast his eyes on every piece of the room, trying to memorize every detail so that he could hold it in his memory forever. He was certain he didn't want to leave, and didn't like knowing that he might not get to come back. It was however, just a fluke that he had gotten to come here at all. He would probably be sent back to the Dursleys for the summer... or Hogwarts? He couldn't deny that the prospect of spending his summer at Hogwarts was a far better alternative than the Dursleys, but still he wished for another place; a place set on a dirt lane in Southern England, surrounded by fields, in a room with a desk under a window, with a house elf who loved the color pink. He tried to imagine the place without Snape, and couldn't, and so added the image to his daydream of the tall wizard with shoulder length hair standing in the doorway, come to wake him up.

Harry suppressed a laugh when the real Severus Snape actually did appear in the doorway a short while later to wake him up for breakfast.

"Are you packed?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Come to breakfast. You can say goodbye to Mitzi, and we will leave after we have eaten."

Harry followed him out of the room and down the stairs. He loved every piece of this place, he thought to himself. He wished he had been able to go and explore the property more, but it had been too cold to go out, even in his new clothing and new warm maroon jacket.

"There are two days until the term starts and the train is not due into Hogsmead until tomorrow evening. You will be expected to stay out of trouble whilst alone," Severus told him over his cup of coffee.

Harry nodded and then asked, "Wh what will you be doing s sir?"

He narrowed his eyes. Since when did the twerp have the right to ask questions like that? Maybe since he'd been sleeping in the guest room upstairs, Severus thought to himself, knowing he would answer the question instead of scold the boy for asking about his personal life, as he would have done any other student.

"When we arrive at Hogwarts I will speak to the Headmaster to let him know where you have been for the holiday. Then I will be in my office sorting the ingredients we bought on Diagonalley, and preparing for classes on Monday."

"Oh." Severus did not fail to notice the boy pushing his eggs around his plate.

"If you wish, we can continue with the extra lessons in the evenings, although I'm certain you no longer need them."

Severus had watched with great surprise as Harry's stutter had for the most part vanished since he had arrived in Wendron with him.

"We can?"

Snape gave a nod and Harry began eating his eggs again rather than pushing them around the plate. "M maybe you can teach me extra defense? W we don't learn much from Professor Q Quirril."

"I will think about it."

As Harry brought his very full, magically enhanced backpack down the stairs after breakfast, he wished silently that they had an all day train ride ahead in which to spend with his professor, talking and playing chess. They had played the game so much over the break, that Harry was positive he now had a fighting chance at beating Ron in a game, where before it had been slim to none.

When Snape had his own belongings in a suitcase next to Harry's bag, Severus warded the house once again against intruders, picked up their bags, and took Harry's arm in a firm grasp, apparating them to the train platform in Hogsmead.

While it had been cold and they had gotten a dusting of snow in Wendron, it was downright freezing here, and they found themselves trudging up towards the castle through three, and sometimes four feet of snow.

Harry used his wand to melt the snow a little ahead of them, using a charm Severus had just taught him on the platform, and Severus carried both bags, Harry's backpack slung over one shoulder.

By the time they made the castle Entrance Hall, they were both cold and tired, and did not notice Professor McGonagall paused midway down the stairs in the Entrance Hall watching them come in through the heavy oak front doors.

Severus handed Harry his bag off his shoulder and Harry said, "Thanks," before stomping the snow off his feet on the stone floor.

"Severus?"

They both looked up to see the witch watching them, bewildered.

"Minerva," Snape greeted her, stomping his own feet a couple of times to get the excess cold snow off so he didn't track it all over the place.

"Severus," she said again, coming down the stairs now, "why have you brought Harry Potter back from his relatives early?"

Harry looked up at Snape, unsure if he were in trouble, but Snape gave him a look that said he wasn't. "He didn't spend the holiday at his relatives Minerva, he spent it with me in Wendron."

"Wendron? Why on earth was he with you? Why was I not informed?"

"I sent a letter to Albus. Both of you were out of contact for the holiday and I didn't think it would be best to let Stan Shunpike pitch the boy off the train for not having a ticket when I met him dragging Harry down the isle."

"What on earth are you talking about Severus? I watched Harry get on the train with the other students to go home."

"And he got on the train back the next day," Severus kept on in a calm tone, bemused at the confusion the woman wore on her face when he didn't immediately give her all of the details at once. Payback for the pity parties he had to sit through every Monday, he thought wryly.

Instead of letting her ask another question right away, he turned to Harry and said, "I will be in my office later if you wish to help sort the potions. Until then, perhaps you should fill Professor McGonagall in on the details of your excursion across the country."

Harry nodded, "Ok, bye." He held up a hand in a motionless wave as Snape gave a nod and walked away up the stairs towards the Headmaster's office.

Professor McGonagall watched him go as well, and then turned to Harry and motioned for him to follow her up to her office.

Harry was told to sit and explain, from the beginning, what had happened, and McGonagall sat and listened in surprise as Harry recounted his Christmas vacation without a single stutter.

"Potter, what has happened to your stutter?"

"Oh er..." Harry bit his lip, remembering that the rules said he couldn't tell anybody but his close friends. "I've been having lessons Professor."

"Lessons?"

"Yes."

"With?"

"I'm not supposed to tell Professor."

"I'm your head of house Potter, you are supposed to tell me."

Harry shook his head and said, "There were rules to the lessons and one of them was that I couldn't tell."

"And what other rules were there?" she asked, wary of who the instructor might have been if they had given Harry special rules such as not to tell.

Having been asked to recite the rules several times when he had forgotten to follow one, Harry fell into recitation mode and started, "Rule number one, no using physical gestures when words can be used instead, number two pause before speaking and think about what you are going to say, number three I'm to offer up information freely in class without being asked, number four I can and I will try, even if I think I cant, number five no running screaming from the room no matter the circumstances, number six no telling who has been helping me, number seven I will do as Professor Snape tells me."

Harry clamped his hand down over his mouth when he realized he had just failed to follow rule number six. McGonagall's eyes were bright with surprise, and Harry shook his head.

"I sh shouldn't have s said that! Don't tell!"

"Professor Snape had been helping you?"

"Every night after dinner at seven when school's in."

"How? Has he given you potions?"

"He has me r read my text b books out loud, and sometimes he makes me s sing them to get the words to come out better. I read o one page over and over u until I I can recite it b by myself."

"Well I must say Mr. Potter that your stuttering certainly has improved. Can you perform spells correctly now?"

Harry nodded and proudly pulled out his wand and turned her quill into a Muggle ink pen, incanting the words flawlessly.

"If the term had started Potter I would award you ten house points for that. Well done."

Harry grinned and seemed to temporarily forget his little slip up.

Professor McGonagall had sent him on his way, and it wasn't until two hours later when Harry was helping Snape sort Potions when he remembered that he had broken a rule.

"S s s sir?" He was nervous and the stutter came out again, giving him away.

Severus turned to him as Harry handed him another bottle of fluid and Severus, up on a ladder, placed it on a high shelf in the storeroom down the hall from his office.

"Calm down Potter, and then tell me."

Damn, Harry thought, it wasn't fair that the stutter gave away all his emotions like that.

He took a moment and then said, "I messed up. I b broke a rule."

"Which one and why?" He wasn't looking down at Harry, but up on the top shelf where he was trying to reorganize a bunch of dusty potions bottles.

"N number six sir?"

Severus stopped what he was doing and looked down at Harry now, who was looking at his shoes. He climbed off the ladder and wiped his hands on a wet rag.

"Who and why did you tell?"

"It it was an a a accident sir, I swear!" Harry looked up and Severus thought the boy looked on the verge of tears at his mistake.

"P p professor McGonagall made me t tell how my stutter was b better, and I told her I w was having lessons, and when sh she a asked who taught me I t told her the r rules s said I couldn't tell! And then she m made me recite the r rules! And I forgot wh what rule number seven said and I I'm re re really sorry!"

Severus sighed. Damn but he shouldn't have added number seven. He should have had the foresight to know what would have happened if Harry repeated the rules to anybody else. He supposed it would have come out eventually, but he dreaded the little smirks and comments he would get at the staff meeting come Monday morning. Still, he couldn't muster up any anger at Harry, who hadn't told her on purpose.

"Continue to follow the rules Potter and the slip will be forgiven." Perhaps the staff might know, but there was no reason for his reputation to be ruined amongst the students as well.

"Really?"

"Yes. Now hand me the Gossamer cream and recite the page from your Potion's book about it."

Harry smiled as his Professor climbed back up the ladder, and he began reciting.

Ron and Hermione returned Sunday night with the other students who had left Hogwarts for Christmas, and were both surprised to hear of Harry's break.

"And he made you clean the house elf's room?" Ron asked over a box of chocolates in a corner of the common room, astonished.

Harry nodded and said, "The room was bright pink and e everything inside was pink. I got Mitzi a pink chandelier for Christmas. I found it at a d decoration shop on Diagonalley."

"Your speech is so much better Harry," Hermione said proudly. "I'm so glad you can do proper magic now."

"I still w want to learn more w without words," Harry told her. Hermione seemed to be a little jealous of the fact that Harry was doing seventh year magic and she wasn't.

"Well you will in seventh year."

"Yeah, and he'll be ahead of the rest of us," Ron said. "Imagine all the house points we'll get!"

Harry was happy to see his friends again, and had forgotten how much he enjoyed spending time with them, but still in the back of his mind as he slept, he wondered if he'd ever again be allowed to go back to Professor Snape's house and sleep in the guest room that had been all his for the last month. He fell into dreams of living there full time and flying a kite out in one of the fields, and being able to call the room his own.

I replied to a review about not seeing Wendron in this story again, and I changed my mind. We will see Wendron one more time.
-------------------------

Severus was seething. What on earth made the little whelp think that he could use what he had taught him to duel in the middle of the night? And to duel Draco Malfoy at that? What was he expected to do when Malfoy was in his own house? Potter was lucky it was McGonagall who had caught them was all he had to say about it. But no, he himself was lucky that it had been McGonagall who had caught them and given them both detention in the Forbidden Forest.

He paced his study until he was sure he'd put a hole in the stone floor. If he had caught them he would have hurt the boy's feelings giving him detention and taking points, and not doing it to Malfoy, but that was what was expected of him being head of Slytherin house. He and Dumbledore both knew that someday the Dark Lord would return, and when he did, it was important that Severus appeared to have continued to be a loyal follower. It was bad enough he'd had to give six Slytherins detention for Harry already. Damn the brats, he thought to himself. If he hadn't gone and given the boy extra defense lessons since they'd been back this wouldn't have happened. If he hadn't helped him quit stuttering... hadn't invited him into his own home... then you wouldn't be so weak now you fool, he admonished himself.

The fact was, he'd just grown too close to the boy. The annoyingly knowing looks from McGonagall, Poppy, and Albus had already told him that, but he'd been denying the facts until now. And now he knew... he had placed himself in a difficult position. To show favoritism as he must would hurt Potter, and not to would be the true mortal death of him someday, in a very painful, and irreversible way.

"And what do you expect to do about it?" he asked himself aloud as he stopped pacing for a moment. Even now the brat was out traipsing through the forest, facing who knew what, and he was standing in the safety of his office, worried sick and angry as hell. It was foolishness was all. The boy was foolish, playing with his safety like he was, flying recklessly on that broom of his during games, getting himself caught dueling, going into the Forbidden Forrest. He was reckless and Severus wouldn't stand for it.

Let the little fool kill himself, he thought to himself angrily, and see what I care. He tried to pretend that it was true, that he didn't care, but only grew angrier when he couldn't. Somehow a monster had crept up on him unawares and he had let it take his defenses down. He couldn't even gain control over his own emotions now. The last time the beast had shown itself was when Lily had died.

He turned and glared maliciously at an innocent quill lying on his desk and then reached down and snapped it in half. The second the boy stepped foot in his office, he was putting an end to this.

Finally satisfied that he had come up with a solution to his lack of control over his own emotions, Severus settled down into his desk chair and waited, as if Harry would be stepping through the office door any time now, although in reality he knew he wouldn't see the boy until the next day at the earliest.

* * *

Severus had once again managed to mask his face with the air of indifference when Harry knocked and came into his office after lunch the next day. Used to being invited to talk freely, Harry sat down in a visitor's chair and didn't wait to be asked how the detention had gone.

"Professor, there was something in the forest last last night, and a centaur ran up and and saved me. The thing was a man, but it it wasn't, it had glowing eyes and-" Snape held up a hand to stall him, and Harry closed his mouth.

"We will no longer be having lessons Mr. Potter." There, calm and final instead of raging and hysteric, he thought proudly, remembering the state of mind he had worked himself into the night before.

"Sir?"

"You will no longer come to my office in the evenings. You will spend it doing, whatever it is... you do."

"But-"

"But nothing Potter. I do not teach defense to students who will use it to duel in empty classrooms in the middle of the night."

He stood up and motioned to the door, and said, "Good day Potter."

Panic rose in Harry's chest. This was it? Why was this happening all of a sudden?

"But but, P P Professor! I'm s s-"

"Good day Potter," Snape said, sounding agitated now.

Harry closed his mouth, which had been hanging open, and stood up uncertainly. When Snape's hand didn't stop showing him the way to the door, he walked out, turning around just in time to see the door close in his face.

"I H H H H HATE YOU!" Harry shouted it at the door before he ran down the hall and up the dungeon steps. He wanted to run as far away as possible, but wasn't sure where to go. His room? The Owlery? Hagrid's? None of them seemed far enough. The Forbidden Forest crossed his mind, but the image of the flying beast wearing a cape with red glowing eyes stopped the thought cold, and he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked slowly through the castle instead. There were dangerous things out on the grounds, he reminded himself, and after last night, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to go visit Hagrid anymore without the giant himself as an escort to and from the castle.

Suddenly Harry hated the feeling of being trapped, and had the urge to go for a ride on his broomstick. That always made him feel good enough. But after Quidditch Practice that afternoon, Harry still felt hopeless, angry, and confused all in one. He finally went and found himself somebody who cared, and he had messed it all up. And at the same time he didn't think he had. Why wasn't he allowed to make mistakes? Everybody else was! This theory was confirmed when Harry saw Snape conversing in the Great Hall with Malfoy at dinnertime. Draco had dueled and gotten into trouble, but he still talked to him.

Ron and Hermione noticed that Harry hadn't said much and seemed to be down, but they couldn't get the reason out of him.

For the next few days, Harry continued on in the same vein, moping and not eating much, and not talking at all unless he was required to do so, at which point he stuttered out his answer and fell silent again. Snape didn't ask him any questions in potions, and Harry didn't volunteer any information. Screw the rules, Harry thought to himself as he dropped a handful too many of lacewing flies into his cauldron on purpose, not caring if it came out or not. What did the man care if he was suffering? Nothing apparently. Why should Harry bother to do well in his class then?

"Harry no, that's too many," Hermione reached out to grab his wrist as Harry went for another handful of wings, but he jerked his wrist out of hers and dumped it in anyway, watching with some satisfaction as the potion turned clear and thin instead of being thick and golden. His mind was so full and his insides hurt so bad that he didn't think he would be able to concentrate properly on the instructions anyway.

"You're ruining it," Hermione whispered into his ear when he swept all of his ingredients off his table into the cauldron.

"It it it's a a already r r ruined," Harry told her. Snape was watching him from the front of the room and knew from what the boy had added the potion would be no more useful than mud. Why had he done that? He hadn't failed to notice the stuttering that had developed again. It was like Harry didn't even care to fix it. Or so he thought until he came across Harry in a hallway a full week after he had told him there would be no more lessons.

Severus paused Sunday afternoon in the hallway. He could hear Harry trying to stutter out a spell around the corner.

"A A A Al alloo a a aloha m moooraaa. A a aloohaaaa aloo h h ha! URRRG!" The boy gave a noise of dissatisfaction and Severus heard a thud, which he assumed to be the boy's fist or foot against the wooden door he was trying to open.

Finally he stepped out from around a corner, and Harry, nursing his hurt fist in his other hand, looked up startled. The boy paled and stood completely still, as if hoping not to be seen.

"Trying to break into school property Mr. Potter?"

It was long, uncomfortable moments before Harry stuttered out that he had left his bag in the Charms room. Severus waved his wand and with a click the door opened and he strode off without a word. It bothered him to see the boy stuttering again, and he hated to admit that it might have something to do with him. Harry was obviously frustrated, and judging by his falling grades in Potions and even Herbology, Harry was bothered by what had happened.

Something inside Severus tugged, and nagged at him as if telling him this wasn't fair, but he didn't quite understand it. How wasn't it fair? It was perfectly fair, and with that thought he pushed the feelings back down and tried to ignore them. Ignoring them didn't happen for long however. In fact, uncomfortable, anxious, worried feelings sprang up in him the next day at lunch when McGonagall informed him that Harry had not shown up to breakfast or any of his classes, and was not in Gryffindor tower.

"Do you know where he's gone Severus?"

"I saw him yesterday getting his bag from the Charms room about one in the afternoon."

"He's been so distraught lately. I thought it was from his encounter with the man in the forest but-"

"Man in the forest?" Suddenly Harry's words about the floating beast with red eyes came back to him and horror flooded him as Albus leaned over and told him to pass the word down the staff table that there was an emergency staff meeting to be held in a few minutes, just as soon as lunch ended.

Severus tried not to squirm, or to let his feelings get the better of him as he sat in the staff lounge behind the Great Hall and listened as every professor was asked if they had seen Harry Potter. Even Filch, the man with an eye for finding students where they weren't supposed to be, had not seen him.

Dumbledore assigned parts of the castle and grounds to each staff member with orders to search thoroughly, both with and without magic, and to send a message to him if any sign of the boy was found, and the staff moved off in a hurry, dividing up Prefects to help with the search.

By dinner the entire school had been searched with no sign of him, and Severus had a headache the size of a Quaffle just from worrying and trying to remember everything he could about the boy and where he might have gone.

"You don't think he would have tried to go home, do you?" Pomona Sprout asked to the group as they once again sat in meeting in a staff lounge.

"No," said Minerva, "he hates his Muggle relatives, and he was told he wouldn't be going back there after they threw him out at Christmas."

"What do you think Severus?"

Severus looked up, taking his hand off his head.

"What?"

"What do you think? Is it possible Harry went home?"

"No."

The other staff went back to talking about where he might have gone, or what might have happened. The discussion had just turned to secret passageways and the room of requirement when something struck Severus hard in the back of his mind. The Snitch, Christmas, golden fields frosted over. Was it possible Harry had gone home? Just not to the one he first came from?

Surprising the rest of the staff, Severus flew up out of his chair, robes billowing behind him, and ran from the room. He narrowly avoided bowling over Weasley and Granger as he ran into the corridor, and didn't have time to hand out detention for eavesdropping.

He ran down onto the grounds and towards the school boundary with surprising speed. Please let him be there, he prayed, because if he hadn't made it, England was a big place to search.

* * *

Mitzi had been great. Harry sat with a full stomach on his bedroom floor, feeling as though it might still be Christmas time, and that nothing had happened since. He ignored the part of his aching heart that told him he couldn't stay here forever, because eventually Mitzi would break her promise not to call for Snape, or school would end for the summer and he would come home and find out for himself that there was a squatter living in his house.

There was a pop and Mitzi appeared beside Harry with a tray of cookies.

"No thanks," Harry said, trying to wave them away.

"But my Harry needs chocolate!" she squeaked.

Harry shook his head and then asked, "Why have you been calling me that?" Somehow his stutter had disappeared when he had gotten away from the castle. It had been a long ride on his broomstick to a train station where he was sure nobody would suspect he was a runaway student, and then it had been a long, long ride on the Hogwarts Express South. But the further he got away from the castle... from Snape, the better his speech got again.

"Because you are my Harry Potter," she said. "My Harry is giving me a Christmas present even though he didn't have to! You is my friend! My Harry!"

"Oh," he said, "thanks."

"Why is my Harry not wanting me to contact my Severus? Is master ok?"

"He's fine," Harry said, wishing he could say the same for himself. He hated feeling this way, so empty and lonely inside, and he hated not knowing what was going to happen to him now. He couldn't go back there, and he wasn't old enough and didn't know enough magic to make it on his own yet. Maybe he could go enroll at Durmstrang up North? He had heard that it was a decent enough wizarding school... although he might have to learn to speak a different language.

"Is Harry Potter fine?"

Harry let out a deep breath. Maybe someday I might be, he thought quietly. "Yes," he told her, although Mitzi gave him a look that said she clearly didn't believe that to be true.

"My Harry needs chocolate," she insisted again, trying to push the tray on him, but he shook his head again and she withdrew it.

"Mitzi be back to tuck my Harry in later," she said, and was gone with another pop.

It was dark outside now, and Harry sat on the floor with his back against the foot of the bed. He was lucky that Mitzi was willing to drop the anti-intruder wards and let him in before putting them back up again. Harry knew he was taking a big chance coming here, but had planned on sleeping in the field if Mitzi wasn't there or wouldn't let him in. It was still cold outside but Harry had learned how to bottle fire and cast lasting heating charms on things and knew he'd be ok if worst came to worst.

Feeling better about sitting on the floor instead of climbing into the bed, perhaps because it felt less like he was intruding into somebody else's house, Harry fell asleep where he sat. His dreams were mixed between a pleasant daydream and a nightmare. He would be having Christmas day with Snape one minute, and the next he was being ordered to get out of the house, where a hooded figure with red eyes waited to drink his blood. And then the dream Snape would save him from the figure and invite him back inside, where he found the Dursley's, and was forced to cook and clean and live in the cupboard under the stairs next to Mitzi's room. In his dream there was a crash somewhere in the house and the Dursley's had just informed him that a potion had exploded and Snape was dead, when something shook him awake.

Harry cried out for help as Uncle Vernon shook him in the dream for being such a bad housekeeper, and he threw his arms up in the air to meet a solid form.

He opened his eyes to find a dark room, with a dark figure before him, shaking him awake. Mistakenly believing it was the hooded creature, finally come to eat him, Harry screamed and tried to back away.

"Harry, no, it's me, it's me." Severus held tight to Harry's shoulders, and upon hearing his voice, Harry calmed a little, but started shaking.

"I I I I-"

"No no, it's ok. You're ok." The firm grip on him seemed to steady him a little more, and Harry couldn't help but throw himself forward into the strong, warm arms there in front of him and give a small sob.

Trying not to fall off balance as he crouched there in front of the boy, Severus allowed the embrace, relieved that he had finally found his charge. It's over, he told himself, trying to master the panic that had taken hold of his chest since early that afternoon.

"Shh, it's ok," Severus said as Harry gripped him tight and he heard a sharp intake of breath as the eleven year old tried to master his own emotions.

After long moments there in the dark, Severus stood up and lifted the boy onto the bed, where he sat with his legs hanging over the edge. He waved up the lights to a low level with his wand and stood, looking over Harry to be sure there were no wounds or other damage.

"How did you get here?" he asked quietly. He didn't think an eleven year old would be smart enough to get from Northern Scottland to Southern England on his own without the help of the knight bus.

Harry pointed to his broomstick, leaning against the wall by the desk, and then said, "I, I flew to a t train station and r rode down."

"And Mitzi let you in?"

Harry nodded and wiped his eye on his sleeve as Severus asked, "Why did you run away?"

The boy looked away then and Severus knew why. Somehow he had become so important to the boy that severing the relationship had been too much for him to handle. For a normal child, one with parents, or other adults to count on, it would have been a different story, but for Harry... but for Harry he had been the only one to give such a gift as the Snitch to. He had been the only one to help Harry with the stutter, or to teach him defense, or to take him home for Christmas.

"I'm sorry," Severus said, finally making up his mind about something that he had been denying for so long. "I should not have acted as I did. Adults act foolishly sometimes."

"What d do you mean?"

"I was upset that you used something I had taught you to harm another intentionally in a duel that was not necessary. I should not have cut off lessons with you over it however. I did not mean to cause you distress."

Harry was quiet for a few moments, and then he looked away and said, "I, I didn't know what to do. I had to leave."

"Where were you going to go?"

"Durmstrang maybe." He shrugged.

"Perhaps your friends would be more agreeable to you returning to Hogwarts? They've been in a panic all day along with the rest of the staff."

"Sir?"

"Everybody's been looking high and low for you Potter."

"Well I can't go back now then!" Harry said, face turning red. "It will be embarrassing! People will know I'm, I'm a little baby who, who ran away!"

Severus thought for a moment, and then said, "Or a first year who is now getting two weeks of detention with Professor Snape, because he decided to venture into the Forbidden Forest to slay the beast with red eyes, but instead met another monster and was knocked out cold, where Professor Snape found him in the dead of night."

"T two weeks?"

"You'll be getting detention either way Potter," Snape said with a pointed look, "but I will leave it up to you to say if it was for running off or trying to slay a beast."

Harry snorted. He couldn't believe he was being given the choice to make himself look better or worse. And the idea wasn't half bad either, although he wasn't really sure if it mattered either way since his only friends were Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid, whom he would tell the truth to anyway.

"I'm sorry f for the duel."

"Do not be. You already did detention for it, and it is expected of someone your age."

"Can we stay the night here?"

"We have classes in the morning Potter, otherwise I would say yes. We'll go back downstairs and take the floo out." Harry already knew that the floo here was one way as part of the anti-intruder barriers placed around the home.

They went downstairs, Severus carrying Harry's broom and bag, and stopped in front of the fireplace in the living room where the jar of floo powder sat on the mantle.

As Severus unscrewed the jar lid, Harry fidgeted nervously, and asked, "C c can I c c call y you dad?"

Severus paused what he was doing and both a pleasant and unpleasant feeling swept through him. "No," he said quietly, finishing unscrewing the lid. "Your father would not appreciate being replaced, even though you did not know him."

"Oh." Harry looked at his shoes.

A handful of green powder in his hand, Severus took a deep breath and said, "Would you settle for uncle?" Draco called him that in private since Severus had been around the Malfoy manor since the boy was just a baby and was as good as a godfather or uncle. He didn't think James Potter would roll over in his grave to see Harry have some sort of adult figure in his life, so long as it wasn't a new dad.

"Uncle Severus then?"

Severus narrowed his eyes in the darkened room, and said, "Uncle Severus," before throwing the powder into the fireplace and shouting, "Hogwarts!" into the flames.

There was a renewed hatred of Severus Snape spreading through the halls these days as well, seeing as how he was the one to have given the red eyed monster fighter two weeks of detention, of which Harry served every one scrubbing floors, but Severus had grown lax and favored giving him multiple breaks. The rumors and spiteful remarks muttered behind his back only served to strengthen his harsh reputation however, especially concerning the younger students, sans Harry and his friends, whom he had told the truth to.

Severus shook his head as he sat at his desk and tried to push thoughts away so that he could concentrate on grading. Something about the comments he was now receiving, and the extra attempts to behead him with fanged frisbees was gnawing at him inside like a worm that would not die. In one way, he was pleased, as he had always been since becoming a teacher, because discipline had now become easier with students who were frightened of him. On the other hand, he liked how it felt to be... admired, by another student. He was sure now that Potter did admire him, asking what he had back at the house. When in private Harry was fully determined to call him ‘uncle Severus' every chance he got. A few times he thought he heard a slip, where Harry had almost called him the other name, but the boy easily pawned it off as a stutter and kept on speaking whatever was on his mind, as he often did now.

What must it be like, he mused, giving up on his grading, to be seen in the light of Albus or Minerva, or even Hagrid or one of the other professors? His own students gave him a sort of grudging respect in that he looked out for them, but they did not show him favor in the way other students gave their own heads of house. Pomona was going on endlessly about the little gifts and drawings she had gotten for Christmas from her Hufflepuffs, and Minerva had the few gifts she had received displayed in her office on her desk. Even Albus had trinkets from years gone by from adoring students lining his shelves and desk. And now Severus had something too, something more valuable than little drawings or trinkets or books, and it too sat on his desk where he could see it. He allowed himself to gaze at the Snitch for a moment and then looked away. What had Potter done to him? He'd made him weak in the heart was what. He'd never craved student affection before now, and here he sat wasting half an hour wishing he'd gotten gifts from other students too. He shook his head, and went back to his work.

* * *

"Run!" Ron shouted it out faster than Harry could start to sputter, and they clambered over each other and Hermione to get out the ancient wooden door, slamming it closed and trying to hold it shut so the enormous three-headed beast would not escape and eat them alive.

"I don't care what you say Harry," Ron panted, clutching at his heart, "that thing was worse than any red-eyed man."

Harry nodded and Hermione closed her eyes, leaning against the opposite wall and breathing hard.

"It wasn't just a thing Ron, it was a Cerberus."

"A what?" Ron looked horrified that she was giving him some sort of lesson at a time like this, and Harry gave a short laugh, glad that his heart had not exploded in the panic of escaping the room.

"A three headed dog Ronald."

"That, was not, a dog." He gave her a serious look. "It was a monster!"

"Even so, did you see what was under its feet?"

"Its feet! Its feet? I was looking at its sharp pointed fangs Hermione! Not its feet!"

She ignored him and looking at Harry instead said, "It was standing on a trap door. Its guarding something."

Harry screwed up his face in thought, and said, "The p package."

"What are you on about now? Don't tell me you've been reading that Hogwarts book too," Ron said, wondering if he was the only one out of the loop."

"No," Harry said. "The package f from G G Gringotts. Th the day Hagrid t took me. He took a p package and later th that vault was b broken into."

"I remember that article from the paper," Hermione said. "Do you know what was inside?"

Harry shook his head. "Hagrid said it w was secret."

"Maybe it's time we pay Hagrid a visit then."

"During the day time," Harry clarified, not wanting to venture out near the forest at night.

"We have to go at night. We don't have time in the day. We can use that cloak you found waiting for you when you got back from Christmas break," she told him.

Ron had such a look of confusion on his face now that Harry thought about laughing before deciding it might be rude to do so.

"You're telling me you actually want to go out after curfew, and break school rules?"

"We have to find out what that thing is guarding Ron. It obviously has something to do with the stolen item from the vault."

Ron sighed and crossed his arms. "I'm going to bed," he said to Harry. "I think I'm tired enough I've gone barmy, because I think Hermione just asked us to break school rules with her."

"She did," Harry said, nodding.

"Better do it tomorrow night then, because I need to sleep before my head falls off."

Harry laughed as they followed Ron back to the tower, listening to him mutter all the way about how confusing girls were.

* * *

"Ow, that was my foot Ron," Hermione prodded him in the dark.

"Wasn't me," he said indignantly as they made their way across the crisp grass towards Hagrid's hut the next night.

"Sorry," Harry said, "I tripped."

"Shh!" Hermione held a finger up to her lips. "Do you want more detention?"

Harry shook his head in the dark and tried to huddle closer to his friends so that they all three stayed concealed under the cloak.

"We're almost there," Ron whispered, as they neared Hagrid's cabin, and tried not to alert the boarhound sleeping on the back step.

Hermione lifted the cloak enough to get her arm out and knocked on the door three times, making the dog lift its head and sniff the air.

"It's not a good time!" came Hagrid's booming voice from inside. "Come back tomorrow!"

"Hagrid, it's us, open up!" Ron called. They heard some scuffling inside, and after a few moments the heavy door cracked open to reveal Hagrid's scruffy face and tangled hair.

"Ron?" They pulled the cloak off and Hagrid stepped back. "Get inside then, hurry now, can't be seen tonight." He ushered them in and they were almost overwhelmed by the stifling heat of the roaring fire.

"Geeze Hagrid, it's not that cold outside," Ron said, pulling at his shirt.

"Just mind yer manners," Hagrid said, and turned to the kitchen table, hiding something from their view.

"What's that?" Harry asked, edging around the man's large frame to see a wobbling oval shaped something with cracks running from top to bottom.

Ron and Hermione came around to have a look to, and Ron's eyes got wide. "Hagrid, that isn't... where did you get it?"

"It is and a man in a pub gave it ter me. Like I said, mind yer manners. I don' barge in on yer private affairs."

"But Hagrid, what will you do with it?"

Hermione seemed as confused as Harry, and Ron said, "It's illegal to keep dragon's in Britain."

"That's a dragon egg?" Hermione asked.

"Yes it is now hu-" there was a cracking noise and Hagrid paused for a second. "Oh look, ‘ere he comes!" The egg split in two and an ugly little dragon head appeared, eyes struggling to open.

"Look, he knows his mommy," Hagrid beamed as the dragon hiccupped and fire shot out of its mouth, making the four of them jump back as Hagrid's beard caught fire.

"Hagrid, what did the package you took from the Gringotts vault have in it?" Hermione wasted no more time getting to the subject as Hagrid rushed to pat his beard down.

"Whassat? The package? Now tha's not mindin' yer manners is it?"

"We need t to know Hagrid," Harry said, stepping around the side of him to pat down another little flame that had the edge of his shirt.

"Yeah, big three headed dog nearly bites our heads off, so naturally Hermione thinks we need to know what it's guarding," Ron said with sarcasm hanging on his words.

"Yeh met Fluffy then? Beauty isn't she?"

"That thing is called Fluffy? Who would name it that?"

"Well I would," Hagrid said, moving to pick up the dragon, who was now trying to walk on unsteady little legs. He cradled the dragon to him and began rocking it back and forth. Matter of fact the man who gave me Norbert said he was a breeder and wanted to know all kinds of things about Fluffy."

"And you told him?" Hermione asked. "Did you tell him what Fluffy is guarding Hagrid?"

"Now I've told yeh too many times already tonigh'," Hagrid said, starting to sound a little irritated. "Yehr not bein' nice askin' abou' what I already told yeh that yeh couldn' know. What Fluffy is guarding is none o' yer business. It's between Albus Dumbledore and Nicholas Flammel."

Hermione's eyes widened, and Hagrid realized his mistake. "I shouldn'ta said that. Just forget it. Yer goin' ter get yerselves in more trouble than Harry chasin' after beasts in the forest."

"I told you th that was made u up," Harry said.

"Then yeh shouldn' be spreadin' it around should yeh?" Hagrid said, giving him a pointed look that Harry shrank back from. Why not? Severus said it was ok.

Suddenly Hagrid looked up at the window and said, "Who's that starin' in the window?"

They looked up just in time to catch Malfoy's face, and Ron said, "Gotta go Hagrid!"

Without waving goodbye, Harry grabbed his cloak and the three of them dashed out the door and up the lawns, too far behind Malfoy to catch up and make him promise not to tell anything he'd heard so far.

Inside the castle they followed Draco up the stairs, confused that he wasn't going back to the dungeons, but Harry's heart fell as he saw Draco being let into Professor McGonagall's office up the long corridor ahead of them.

"He's telling on us," Ron said stopping short of the door, and Harry nodded, noticing that Hermione looked pale. She'd already lost points for lying about the troll, and Harry and Ron had already gotten detention for dueling with Draco, not to mention Harry's two weeks of detention for running away.

When they made it to the door, it opened of its own accord, and Professor McGonagall stood there in her nightgown looking unhappy.

"Inside, all of you," she said crossly.

Draco was standing by her desk, arms crossed and looking smug.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Nothing good," Ron said, unable to come up with an excuse for being out on the grounds at two in the morning.

"Is it true that you were visiting the gamekeeper?"

"Yes maam," Ron said, head bowed.

"And that he has a dragon?"

Harry and Ron shot Draco a look of pure contempt, and Draco smiled wider, lip curling a little.

"Yes Professor," Harry said when Ron still hadn't answered.

"Miss Granger. I have come to expect such mischief from these two, but I am disappointed in you. I expected that you had become a voice of reason for them and were leading by example."

Draco sniggered now and saved Hermione from having to answer, because McGonagall rounded on him now and said, "Do not be so cocky Mr. Malfoy. You too were out after hours, however noble you believed your intentions to be. Therefore you will be serving in detention yet again with your classmates."

"Professor?"

"You heard me. Your head of house has already been notified."

On cue, Professor Snape opened the door and stepped inside, eyes sweeping over the four students in trouble. His gaze paused on Harry for a moment, and Harry looked away, catching the look of disappointment lingering there.

"Professor," he greeted his colleague. "What have they done this time?" she spent the next few minutes filling him in, and he asked, "What will the punishment be?"

"I will handle Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. I believe Miss Granger would benefit from some time spent cleaning with Argus and Mr. Weasley would benefit from doing 100 lines about rule breaking. Perhaps it will be best if you take Mister's Potter and Malfoy, since they seem to benefit from your authority more than they would mine."

"Indeed. I will be having many, words with Potter and Malfoy." He shot Harry and Draco a pointed look that bordered on nasty, and both boys looked away.

With instructions to show up the next morning at 5 am, which was a punishment in itself because it was Saturday and that only gave them two and a half hours to sleep, Severus left with Draco in tow, and Harry was allowed to return to the tower with Ron and Hermione, who didn't have detention until two the next afternoon.

"At least we know where to start looking," Hermione said, just before they got back to the portrait of the fat lady.

"Looking at what?" Ron asked, stifling a yawn.

"Looking for what was in that package. It's got something to do with Nicolas Flammel."