The second floor corridor was darker than Harry remembered, yet perhaps that was his own subconscious warning him of the possible danger involved with his hasty decision. Never before during one of his rushed plans had Harry been so acutely aware that breaking the rules often led to worser situations than what he'd started with. But he had to know what Draco was up to, he had to make sure that it wasn't something bad, and he forced himself to swallow the guilt he now felt towards once again demonstrating his reckless disregard for the rules (as Snape would call it).

Harry marched onwards in search of Draco Malfoy while trying to clear his head of numerous concerns and mild hysterics.

After many minutes of nothingness, he was angered by the fact that either Draco was concealed in one of the rooms he'd passed by or else the Slytherin was no longer on the second floor. He'd never actually seen Draco entering that specific floor, either, merely heading in that general direction. His plan was suddenly seeming as foolish as it should have from the beginning.

Just as he was about to turn and rejoin his friends, Harry heard the unmistakable sound of shoe against stone. Thinking it was Draco, he ducked behind a marble pillar and anxiously waited to see if he heard anything else or if someone came into view. When the shadows and noises approached, Harry was quick to realize that it wasn't Draco he had heard, but instead those who were almost close enough to be; Crabbe and Goyle.

Craning his neck to see if Draco's bodyguards were entering a nearby room, Harry had misjudged their distance and was spotted. Instantly reaching for his wand, he braced himself for what was surely going to happen next.

'Look, it's Potter!' Crabbe pointed and left Harry no choice other than to vacant his hiding spot and face them.

'Bloody Gryffindor.' Goyle growled.

'Let's get him!' Crabbe advanced towards Harry - who considered the larger boy to be too stupid to be able to use his wand anyway - with his fists clenched. Goyle was doing the same and with their size and separation, Harry vaguely wondered if he could use his created spell, Expellicorpus, against them enough to get away. His plans were dashed by the arrival of three seventh years; one boy was a Slytherin and the other two were Ravenclaws, judging by their uniforms.

'Well, well...what do we have here?' The largest one smirked at Harry, who recognized him from a brief run-in during fourth year. This Slytherin was brutal, impossibly strong, and was certainly no stranger to the Dark Arts. What further unsettled Harry, was that this boy had always held a grudge against him, not just for the usual reasons but because Harry had been named a champion during the TriWizard tournament when he himself hadn't; regardless of the fact that he too had been underage at the time. And Jim Burley did not get over grudges, ever.

Harry did not recognized the two Ravenclaw boys that joined the group and added to the fact that he was completely outnumbered. Since they appeared to be friends of Jim, the lone Gryffindor knew they could only further complicate the situation.

This was exactly why Harry needed to start listening to the rules he was given.

It was hopeless; the five smirking, knuckle-cracking offenders had him backed into a corner with three wands pointed at him. Naturally, Harry intended to defend himself and fought to remember any spells that may come in handy, but none would be able to deal with all of them. What were they even doing on the second floor? Where had Draco gone if he wasn't here with them? Or was the worst yet to come if the blonde did finally venture back along this corridor and join the others?

The first punch came towards Harry's face before he had time to dodge it; not even Dudley's “Harry Hunting” game with his bully friends could have prepared him for this...at least then he'd had enough space to run away. And now he was stuck, like a grain of salt under the shoe of a goblin; if he didn't get away soon, he feared he would disappear and there would be nothing he could do about it.

'Sod off!' Harry snapped at them as he winced from the impact of Crabbe's punch to his cheek, only having just saved his nose from the fist because of his quick movement.

'You think you're so invincible, now?' Jim sneered angrily. 'You think someone's going to run in and save precious Potter this time? You leech! Taking all the glory for yourself.'

'I don't want it!' Harry knew it was fruitless to try and convince them but it was the only weapon he had left, considering that one of the Ravenclaws had just disarmed him. Harry felt truly powerless without his wand.

'You think you're so special?' Jim growled as he acted as the ringleader, making hand gestures for Crabbe or Goyle to punch Harry, either in the gut or face. 'Perfect orphan Potter.' He mocked. 'Well, your days are numbered. Mark my words...the Dark Lord will put you down like the pig you are.'

Harry could not respond to what was obviously an aspiring Death Eater, as one of the Ravenclaws had just kicked him in a particularly sensitive area of his anatomy, sending him to his knees.

'See, he's bowing to us!' One laughed. And then it was Jim's turn...and his fists felt to be made of stone, and his shoes to be small buildings as each one came crushing down against Harry's left wrist.

Crying out in pain and helplessness, Harry struggled to locate his wand or see past the blood that dripped in his face from his cut eyebrow. He didn't know why his will to fight back was so slim, normally his survival instincts kicked in and he was lucky enough to find a way out of any situation. Harry could take on Lord Voldemort but not a few rough bullies?

They were right then...he was nothing special.

'Shh!' One boy (Harry had given up trying to tell which was which), hushed the others and they all froze as they darted their gazes towards the far end of the corridor in which they had arrived from not twenty minutes ago. Had it really been minutes? To Harry, it felt like hours.

'Someone's coming.'

'Breathe a word of this, Potter, and your mudblood friend is next.' Jim hissed to him as he straighted and followed the others in the direction of the moving staircases at the opposite end of the corridor.

Harry, gasping and grunting from pain and humiliation, slowly edged himself towards his wand and grasped it tightly as though it was his lifeline. He had little strength to fight whoever was coming his way and doubted he could even manage to upright himself into standing position if he had to. Harry did all he could and crawled into a corner formed by a lions statue and the cool, stone wall.

His heart only sank further when so far he could see that the person who had caused the others to scatter was yet another Slytherin. Harry stared at the floor, watching his own blood slowly seeped onto the stone floor and coloured it, before he forced himself to glare upright at his new attacker.

An alarmed Draco Malfoy stared back at him.

'Who did this?' Draco asked as though he had come across anyone other than a Gryffindor in which he loathed.

'Like you don't know.' Harry spat and was shortly pleased to notice that he still had enough strength in which to ensure his ability to speak. 'You sent them, didn't you? Crabbe, Goyle, and Burley.'

'Burley?' Draco repeated and even he seemed rather annoyed by this. He glanced around at the corridor they were in before he slowly drifted his gaze across Harry, taking in the sight of the heavily bleeding eyebrow the most, as well as the way Harry clutched to both his wand and left wrist with his right hand.

And than Draco did the most unusual thing that could ever be considered of him; he extended a hand towards Harry in the same manner in which he had in first year when he'd offered his friendship.

'Well?' Draco scowled. 'Take it!' He saw the obvious expression of distrust and suspicion in his rival's gaze, which only caused him to sigh heavily.

'Look, either you take a chance here and hope I don't finish you off, or you sit here and bleed to death, praying they don't come back.'

When he put it like that, suddenly Harry felt an odd sense of gratitude towards his supposed rescuer. Draco Malfoy or not, there was no way he wanted to sit around until someone found him again. How long would it take? Hours? Who would find him first? Friend or...foe?

With a painful motion, he grasped Draco's hand with his uninjured one and allowed the Slytherin boy to pull him upright. He was shaky at first but found that the strength in his legs was beginning to return.

'Can you walk as far as the hospital wing?' Draco jerked his hand away from Harry and wiped it on his robes as though it was tainted.

'Why are you doing this?' Harry asked instead. He didn't want to answer the question because he was far too ashamed to let his rival know that there was no way he could even make it to the end of the corridor without crashing into a bloody heap on the floor.

'Either you shut up and let me figure this out or I leave you here to rot.' Draco warned and made it clear that questioning his motives was not the best way for Harry to reach the hospital wing alive. Or even at all.

Harry watched his apparent enemy very closely as the Slytherin reached into a pocket and extracted a small locket with a golden chain. It was very ancient-looking and had an odd emblem on the front involving a snake's head that crossed over a wand, and the faint imprint of a cauldron around them, as those the snake and wand were inside it. Draco turned the object over in his hand three times and than returned it into the depths of his robes.

'What was that for?' Harry narrowed his eyes with outright caution.

'Shut up!' Draco snapped in accordance to his previous warning. 'I have no issue with just leaving you here, Potter.' He spat as his gaze moved around each end of the corridor, either waiting for something or keeping a lookout in case the attackers returned. The blonde boy almost looked nervous about it too.

'Than why don't you?' Harry scowled back.

He never received an answer when there was the swishing of familiar black robes at the end of the corridor. Not bothering to suppress a groan, Harry was convinced that he was a Slytherin magnet, and today was one of those days where he was sure that all of his good luck had finally run out.

'Mr Malfoy.' Severus halted directly in front of the boys once he had established that firstly, Draco wasn't the injured one, and secondly, his godson had used his “for emergencies only”, locket to...save Potter?

'Mr Potter.' He scowled at the danger-prone Gryffindor. 'What trouble have you apparently stumbled across this time? A troll? Three-headed-dog, perhaps? Dementors? Deranged criminals? I daresay you're lucky to be alive.' Severus sneered as though the sight of the badly bruised, bleeding, and highly unstable teenager did not bother him even the slightest.

It was all a front, however, because his insides had turned to black ice at the mere sight of the unluckiest Gryffindor to ever walk the Earth. The boy born with Lily's eyes and yet who demonstrated the amazing ability to find more trouble in one month than an auror did all year. Although, Severus still wasn't convinced that most of it was due to the boy's obvious lack of obedience and surely most of the trouble was created rather than found, just like James.

'No, sir.' Draco surprised both Severus and Harry by coming to the other boy's defense. 'It was Burley.' He whispered and lowered his gaze to the floor as though to admit this fact was something to be troubled by.

Harry glanced through what little space he could see that wasn't his sweaty hair or drying blood, to notice that both Snape and Malfoy seemed unsettled by Jim Burley. Was the big bully so terrible that his fellow house mate would be wary of him, or even more astonishingly...his own Head of House?

Harry didn't think Snape was scared of anything, yet this way he almost seemed...human.

'Come, Potter.' Snape instructed.

'I'd rather not.' Harry couldn't stop the statement that passed over his lips in his usual defiant tone, because he did not trust going anywhere with a single Slytherin who for the last five years up until this point had loathed him, belittled him, mocked his friends, and shown no signs at all that they would feel even the slightest of sympathy if Voldemort were to show up and torture him to death. Or worst yet, one of them were probably going to be the reason for Voldemort finding him, anyway.

Snarling at the Gryffindor's attitude and inability to follow a simply order, Severus grasped the boy by his arm and yanked him along.

'I believe you have classes, Mr Malfoy.' He said over his shoulder. 'I suggest you fulfill your requirements as a student and be on your way.'

'Yes, sir.' Draco sighed and turned to leave in the opposite direction.

'Ouch!' Harry grimaced as Snape's grip was rather painful. His footing was poor and yet every time he felt ready to collapse onto the hard ground below and never move again, a sensation of warmth spread through his muscles that somehow enabled him to gather just enough strength to remain on his feet.

Glancing at Snape's dark form, Harry wondered if some sort of spell had been placed on him to ensure this, or if it was just his own determination to not look any weaker in front of Snape than he already was.

With Snape's long strides, they reached the hospital wing a short moment later, where Harry was unceremoniously shoved towards the nearest bed. The teenager said nothing in protest and merely marveled in the softness of the sheets and the relatively promising security of the Hospital Wing.

'Severus!' Poppy gasped as she left her office and stared at the state of Harry. 'What happened this time?'

'Burley.' Severus said simply. With a scowl of understanding and irritation, Poppy immediately began to magically scan the boy to determine a full assessment of his current injuries.

'It's not so bad.' Harry mumbled from where he was sprawled out on the bed, staring towards the madam that was fussing over him.

'Barely hurts.' He winced.

'Not so bad?' Poppy raised her voice in a controlled outrage. 'Potter, your wrist is broken!'

Severus raised an eyebrow at the teenager that had given no indicated that he was in such a serious state that the mending of bones would be required. Even so, the man remained silent from where he stood a short distance away.

'Oh.' Was all Harry was able to say as he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react.

Having Snape so close was weird enough, but with the way Draco had helped him earlier? His head was confused and his body longed for rest so it could heal. It made his mind foggy and any pain he was probably meant to be feeling was simply blacked out.

Poppy seemed to agree with his desire for rest, because she cast numerous healing spells on the boy's wrist and ribs before she handed Harry several potions; the last one in which made him very drowsy.

'The headmaster ought to expel that beast!' Poppy scowled as she muttered about Burley, mistakenly thinking that Harry was already asleep.

'First Mr Malfoy and now Mr Potter? This has to stop, Severus.'

'I shall certainly see to it that after tonight, Burley will not evade any further punishment for his crimes.' Severus scowled deeply. The seventh year had been getting increasingly hostile for the past few years but the moment he'd injured his godson and Harry in a single week...no more; Burley had seen the last of Hogwarts and Severus would make sure of it.

'How has he gotten away with so much up to this point?' Poppy shook her head with visible anger and disgust.

'Clever alibis.' Severus answered although that wasn't at all true. The fact that Burley's father was a lead Death Eater had more to do with it than anything. Expelling the boy would impact his spying job but Severus refused to stand by any longer and let Burley do as he pleased. Constant insults and rough shoving had been mostly harmless enough, but now the arrogant boy had gone too far.

Poppy, rushing off to floo-call Dumbledore, had left Severus alone with the almost-slumbering Harry.

Frowning at the boy, Severus prepared to leave as he had no other reason to remain behind; Dumbledore already had his report following a similar incident several days ago, and Poppy could always relay what he'd said, if need be. Yet the man hesitated when he realized that the teenager was mumbling something under his breath.

''Tis my old donkey, sir.' Harry uttered although it sounded strained as he had almost slipped entirely into a restful slumber. 'Lost, she is, or stolen, and without her I cannot take my wares to market, and my family will go hungry tonight.'

'Idiotic Gryffindor.' Severus rolled his eyes and left the hospital wing, convinced that Potter was better off in Poppy's care now and would soon be attended to by Albus.

--

And yet as he reached his quarters, Severus continued to ponder on the odd phrase Potter had muttered. It wasn't unusual for such rambling to occur, given the potion the boy had taken, but there was something strangely familiar about those words. Severus could not recall where he had heard it before, although it had to have come from his childhood, which was not a time in his life in which the wizard wished to explore.

Surely it had been something his mother had told him. Realizing that he would not rest until he'd figured it out, Severus stormed to his fireplace and floo'ed to the library.

Ignoring the startled reactions of the small group of students left in the grand room who didn't have classes, Severus sought out the librarian.

'Severus, is there something I can do for you?' Irma approached him with a curious yet casual tone.

'Perhaps.' Severus replied as he snatched a quill from her desk and wrote down what he had heard Potter say. He did not dare to repeat it; handing over the parchment with the phrase scribbled upon it seemed to work far more efficiently with his dignity.

The moment Severus started speaking of lost donkeys and hungry families was the day he began to plan his retirement.

Irma glanced over at the parchment and frowned at him as though she had been given the instructions to the most simplest variety of potion; she had expected him to know the answer right away. Nevertheless, she sighed and summoned a book from one of the shelves towards the back of the library.

Severus should have stayed in his quarters. He glared down at the offending book in front of him and was dismayed to realize that it was a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

On his birthday every year until he went to Hogwarts, his mother had read him a story from this book. He never forgot a single one he'd heard, having memorized it in effort to preserve that moment in which he could convince himself that he was normal, that he belonged to a family who loved him, and that those reading session didn't only occur because his father was always away on that day.

'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot.' Irma pointed to the phrase in that particular story in which matched what he'd heard from Harry.

'My sixth birthday.' Severus whispered; he hated that story. It contained too many phrases he had been used to hearing daily, such as “disgusting object”, “I am hungry now!”, “be still! Be silent!”, and “begone!”. But Harry was not raised in the magical world and had lost Lily at a very young age, how would the teenager know this story so well that he would mutter it in his sleep?

Severus shoved the book away and turned to depart the library by foot, angry at himself for even caring. So what if the brat had read a children's book and could remember one particular section? What concern was it to him? Severus didn't even know why he had to waste his time figuring out such an insignificant thing when he should be tracking down Burley.

Deep down Severus knew why.

Because when he'd heard Harry say it, it had triggered something inside him...a memory Severus wished to forever forget. While he had hated that story and longed to rip out its pages to permanently erase it from his book...Lily had rather enjoyed it. She'd told him in fifth year, two weeks before the end in their friendship, that all Slytherins should read it and learn from it because magic could do so much good if blood never mattered.

When they'd parted their ways, he'd found a page torn from her book, resting on his doorstep over the summer. She had highlighted that phrase about the donkey and underlined it.

In the corner of the page she had written; “What if this had been you?”

To this day Severus could not figure out what she'd meant by that. The cauldron's ability to cure yet was not used for such? The poor, hungry family where a father and son had so very different views? The sour wizard unwilling to assist anyone because he believe them to be unworthy?

Or a bitter man whose only companion was his cauldron?

It wasn't until lunch-time that Madam Pomfrey finally allowed Harry to leave the hospital wing. And she only did it because he constantly argued that he was fine and really needed to get back his studying.

It was unusual and she suspected that there was more to the boy's frantic desire to leave, but seeing that he was sufficiently healed and his wrist had been set right (and he'd had the chance to explain to Dumbledore roughly what had happened with Burley), she had decided to let the boy go before he became hysterical.

With gush of relief, Harry hurried from the hospital wing and headed to the Great Hall. He saw Draco sitting amongst the Slytherins (his attackers didn't appear to be there, of which Harry was grateful), but the blonde never looked over at him and merely continued to stare at his empty plate.

Harry had the urge to go over there and thank him for his assistance, however odd and seemingly out-of-character it had been, yet the moment passed and the Gryffindor convinced himself that Malfoy must have had other motives to do so that he was yet to figure out.

'Harry!' Hermione exclaimed when he moved to join them. 'Where have you been?' She sounded quite livid, which was to be expected since had disappeared for most of the morning and hadn't shown up for Herbology.

'I was sick.' He shrugged, which had been the excuse he'd told them to give Professor Sprout if he hadn't made it to class. He also felt uncomfortable with talking about what had happened earlier and tried to change to topic.

'Where's Toby?'

'With Dobby in the dormitory.' Ron answered. 'He went nutters when you didn't show up.'

'Other than that, everything went according to plan.' Hermione said importantly, referring to the spell the had used to sneak Toby into their Herbology class that morning.

'He had a lot of fun helping us catch those pod things.' Ron smirked with amusement. 'Sprout didn't even notice! I don't think anyone did, really. You should've seen him, mate...he loved it!'

'Right, well...I better go check on him.' Harry rose and grabbed an apple from a fruit basket to eat along the way.

He walked faster than usual as he didn't want to be the only one left in a corridor and was also determined to see if Toby was okay. Pushing open the door to his dormitory, he barely had time to register that he wasn't alone before Toby had crushed against him for a hug.

'Where were you?' Toby buried his face against Harry's robes. 'You weren't there an-an Miss Hermione didn't know where you were an-I-I thought you forgot about me.' He sniffled.

'I'm sorry.' Harry sighed and returned the boy's hug, only thankful that Toby hadn't been with him when he'd followed Draco. But than again, if Toby had been there than he would never had followed the Slytherin to begin with.

'Don't worry, that won't ever happen again.' Harry said strongly. When they had gone to Hogsmeade, he'd decided upon following the rules, and yet when he'd broken them today it really sank in just how important they could be.

Enough was enough, Harry was never making that mistake again; he didn't care if it was expected of him to roam the castle at night, get into duels, or involve himself in situations that should be too much for him to handle...Harry was through with it. He could not afford to risk it, with Toby to look after and set an example for.

His rule-breaking days were over and Harry didn't care what he had to give up to make sure of it. As long as Toby was safe...nothing else mattered anymore.