Ron picked up two apples and handed them to his sleepy friend, who had tried to eat as much as he could, but was unable after a summer with so little food. "Here mate." Harry took them and tucked them away in his bag. This way he would be able to have small snacks throughout the day and reorient his body to eating regularly again.

"Drats."

Harry glanced over at Ron, who was going over their timetable for the year. "Again?"

"Like always, nothing changes. Maybe that Umbridge woman will change us having to have classes with Slytherin... especially Potions." Harry's friends knew just how difficult Potions class was for him. It was like a double whammy. First Severus would compliment Kenai's potion skills to no end, along with perhaps Draco or another Slytherin, and occasionally Hermione, but he would always end the lesson with some sort of derogatory comment to Harry about his brewing skills. Once the man had even made Harry sit next to Kenai for an entire week to ‘observe how a natural composes a potion.' It was meant to be torture and humiliation, but it was educational. Harry learned more about his father and brother in that week from Kenai's low antagonizing voice than he had known his whole life. ‘Oh, didn't you know my father has a mastery in Potions as well as Occlumency? Me being his son, it's only natural that I'm a natural at these things as well you know. But I couldn't expect you to understand, seeing as how you don't have any parents.' Harry shuddered as he remembered the taunting.

"We'd better get going then," Hermione said anxiously. "Potions is first and I'd rather get it over with."

"I'd rather go back to bed," Harry said as he failed to stifle a yawn. They stood up and made their way out into the Great Hall, where many students mulled around waiting for classes to start.

They had just reached the entrance to the Dungeons when someone tugged on Harry's sleeve to stop him, and he turned to find Draco Malfoy, half concealed behind a suit of armor bearing the Slytherin crest.

Harry stared at him blankly, and Draco took in his black eye again, before saying quietly, "Maybe you ought to get that eye looked at in the Hospital Wing."

Shooting a questioning look to Ron, who gave him an ‘I don't know' shrug in return, Harry said to Draco, "It's fine." He made to move off with his friends, but Draco grabbed his wrist again.

"No, seriously, you look really ill. I'd go to the Hospital Wing... you'll probably miss Potions but you can get a note."

Harry crossed his arms and tried to read in the other boy's eyes whatever it was he was trying to tell him. It was then that he could swear he heard Draco's voice in his head saying, ‘Veritaserum you stupid idiot. He's going to make someone test our potions today.'

Arms dropping to his sides, Harry's eyes widened. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but with another meaningful look from Draco, he turned to his friends and said, "I uh, I think I'm feeling ill. I'll be in the Hospital Wing." He hurried off then, leaving Draco to fill in Ron and Hermione if he chose to. He had no idea if they would really be brewing Veritaserum that day or not, but Harry didn't want to be there to be a guinea pig if they did.

Madam Pomfrey gave him some bruise balm to rub on his black eye (and on all the other secret bruises he had that he hadn't shown her), and let him lie down since he wasn't ‘feeling well'. She had given him a sympathetic look however when she glanced down at the timetable still clutched in his hand and noticed he had Potions first off.

"Perhaps you'll feel better in a couple of hours dear."

Grateful that she understood, he took the time to take a nap, and left for Defense class when she woke him an hour and a half later. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him outside the Defense classroom a few floors down.

"Harry, it's really good that you skipped today," Hermione said. Ron nodded and ignored how incredible it was for Hermione to condone skipping a class.

"What happened?" Harry asked, voice low as he saw a group of Slytherins in their year approaching, Kenai included.

"We made Veritaserum Harry... he tested it on Neville."

Harry let his head fall back against the corridor wall and let out a low sigh, shooting Draco Malfoy a thankful glance as he came to stand in line a few people behind him. Draco gave a small nod, and then acted as though he hadn't even noticed Harry was there at all.

"How did you know Harry?"

Hermione had her hand on his arm to get his attention again.

"I don't know, I'll explain later," he said, as Kenai came to stand before him with a smirk on his face.

"Skipping classes Potter? Guess who swore you'd be serving detentions all week."

Harry looked to Ron for confirmation, and he nodded, but Harry would rather serve a week's worth of detentions than be embarrassed by being made to spill his guts in front of a classroom full of people, especially one which contained two who hated him very much.

"Oh well, maybe you'll learn to shape up sometime then. My father always says I should set a good example for those less fortunate." Kenai stood taller then to a few laughs from his friends, mainly from Crabbe, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson.

There was a very tiny cough at that moment that made the class turn to find a short, chubby woman dressed all in pink, with curly brown hair. Ron nudged Harry in the ribs then to let him know this was the ‘meddling' woman from the Ministry, and Harry ignored him.

"Hello class. My name is Professor Dolores Umbridge. Won't you please come in?"

Hermione being at the front of the line lead the way, Harry and Ron behind her. Kenai tried to push his way in front of Harry before he made the door, but a pudgy hand reached out to stop him.

"Excuse me, Mr. ah...?"

"Snape," Kenai supplied.

"Mr. Snape, I do not allow cutting in my class period. The rest of your peers were so nicely lined up outside the door, waiting ever so patiently, and I would prefer you do the same."

Inside the classroom, already in a seat, Harry and Ron sniggered even Draco smirked from his seat across the aisle by the window, at the look Kenai wore on his face.

"Would you please show me how to properly line up then Mr. Snape?" the sickly sweet voice asked from the doorway. There was no one else to line up with him now, but after some muttering, the heard Umbridge say, "That's much better, thank you," before she came into the room, followed by a red faced Kenai, clearly embarrassed.

"Now then, shall we get started?" Umbridge asked sweetly from the front of the room.

Harry wasn't the only one dismayed to hear a rehash of her lecture the night before, or to find that they would not be practicing defense openly that year, but rather, learning the ‘theory' of it instead, as it was safer.

There were many grumbles to this, and Harry was just about to point out that they needed to practice when Kenai's hand shot up into the air.

"Yes Mr. Snape?"

"Excuse me Professor maam," he said, and Harry could tell he was trying to charm her. "I wholeheartedly agree with learning the theory of a subject so that we can remain safe at all times in a learning institution, but I was wondering perhaps if there would come a time in the future when we will be allowed to practice what we're learning?"

"Why whatever for? You are so very safe here at this school."

Again Harry was about to speak out, but Kenai looked annoyed, and said, "I was lead to believe that there are dark forces in the world that we might need to protect ourselves against, should the need arise."

"Such as? I know of no such dark forces. I am a Ministry Employee, and if there were any such forces to be reckoned with, the Ministry would know about it, and dispatch trained professionals to deal with the issue."

"What about the newly returned Dark Lord?" Neville piped up with unusual courage. The Slytherins all tensed up at mention of this, most likely because they knew it was true, Harry thought, but Umbridge clasped her hands together and looked around the room with the same smile.

"Mr. Longbottom is it? Please do raise your hand." Neville raised his hand, and when she called on him, he repeated the question, to a nod from Kenai.

"And where would you be getting such information from?"

No one needed to say it out loud with the stories the Prophet had published that summer, mostly trying to defame Harry and Dumbledore, but Kenai gave a short glance back at Harry anyway. It wasn't one of loathing, but rather fear. A fear that stated he clearly believed Harry, and they were all in danger.

Something caught in Harry's chest then as his half brother who lived to torture him turned back around, and Harry looked down to his desk. With the amount of people who hated him this year, and the amount he had encountered on the train who had stopped by just to call him a liar, it was something of an encouragement to have someone... a brother, believe you.

The glance was all that Umbridge needed however, and she rounded on Harry, who was determined to stay out of trouble this year, the hope that he could somehow gain his father's approval at some unknown date always lingering at the back of his mind.

"Did you have something to say about this Mr. Potter?"

Harry bit his lip and continued to look at his desk. He did desperately want to set his story straight and regain some of the confidence people once put in him, but at what price? While this woman's voice remained sweet, he could tell that there was something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

"The papers say he returned," Harry supplied, trying not to sound defiant.

"I see," she said quietly, thinking out her next move. "And what do you have to say about it?"

Harry looked up into her eyes and swallowed. "Who am I to say? I don't work at the Ministry and have no authority over such matters." He heard Hermione let out an audible sigh next to him and felt her relax. In front of him, their Professor seemed to be able to find no fault in his answer.

"Well said Mr. Potter, well said indeed."

"He's back and you know it!" Kenai had suddenly stood up, fuming, and Umbridge had spun on her heel to face him down.

"Mr. Snape, first you disrespect your peers in the hallway, and now you disrespect me by lying outright to my face? I am beginning to think that having a parent who works at this school is not as beneficial to your discipline as one would have thought. I'm afraid I will have to assign you detention for being disrespectful."

"Professor." Shit. Harry didn't know what had made him do it, but his hand was raised and he had blurted out the word Professor before he could stop himself.

"Yes Mr. Potter?"

"I'm sorry that Kenai disrespected you in front of the class... I'm sure he was just overreacting. But I gave him permission to step in front of me in line before you came out of the classroom."

She eyed him carefully.

"And why would you do this Mr. Potter?"

Harry swallowed, and Hermione had her hand over her eyes next to him, which was always a sign that Harry or Ron were digging themselves a deep, deep whole. The rest of the class, including Kenai were all giving him wondrous looks now as he sat quietly, wondering yet again why he had decided to stick up for the brat across the aisle and down one seat.

"He's my brother maam."

He didn't know what he expected then from her or from the class, but a chuckle from the Professor and the waving of her hands as if it were a silly notion wasn't it.

"Oh Mr. Potter, I did not imagine from the articles I've read about you that you were so funny."

Harry swallowed rather hard again, face turning red. "It's true Professor," he said, and she stopped laughing, looking miffed now to say the least.

"Mr. Potter, I do not tolerate lying in my presence. You are clearly not related Mr. Snape, and while I appreciate that you may wish to flaunt your Gryffindor courage in order to save him, this is not the appropriate time."

Hermione was tugging lightly on Harry's sleeve repeatedly to stop him from going on, but he was trying to ignore her and the sinking feeling that he would take Kenai's place in detention if he kept going. Having people ignore the fact that he was Severus Snape's son was a sore spot for him however, and he couldn't let it drop. How could she not know? They looked so much alike!

"I'm telling the truth Professor," he said again, trying not to sound disrespectful. He vaguely registered the fact that Draco was now giving him a look and shaking his head now too, trying to tell him to stop, but it was clearly too late.

"I see. You will be serving detention with me tonight then Mr. Potter. Not only have you lied to me repeatedly, three times to be exact, but you have disrespected the memory of your dead parents, and I cannot allow either to take place without punishment."

"Yes maam." Harry slunk down in his chair and caught the last incredulous glance from Kenai before he resolutely tuned out the rest of the lesson. This was turning out to be the start of one fantastic year, he told himself grumpily, and he wondered if he'd break his record of number of detentions before Christmas.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure what to think about this Umbridge woman. Yes, she had annoyingly called him a liar and given him detention (and forgotten about Kenai's detention in the process), but at lunch she swooped down on the Slytherin table and reprimanded Kenai for a lack of table manners.

Ron had laughed heartily upon seeing Kenai's red face across the hall as Umbridge berated him (likely payback for his comments in class), but Harry watched intently as their father scowled at the woman from the Head table.

In the hallway, Harry lingered after lunch to hear what the man would say to her. Loath as he was to admit it, he wanted to know what his father thought about all things. He'd rather forget about what his father thought about him, but he hoped to gain insight to the inner-workings of the man by knowing his views on everything else.

Deftly hidden behind the same suite of armor Draco had hidden behind earlier that morning, Harry listened as Severus silkily addressed Professor Umbridge.

"Might I have a word?"

She stared up at him, he being so very much taller than she was, and said, "Why of course, what is it I can help you with today Severus?"

He gave her a priceless sneer at the notion that she could help him with anything, and continued on, "I was merely curious as to the conversation you held with my son at Slytherin table a few minutes ago."

"My apologies Severus, who is your son again? I spoke to several at Slytherin table today... what wonderful students you have I might add."

"Indeed," he said, and Harry could tell that he knew as well as she did that she had only spoken to Kenai.

"Kenai Snape."

"Oh, yes, that's right. While I was at Slytherin I kindly pointed out a few pointers on how to have better table manners was all. Even from the staff table I could see that he was being very rude to his peers with his eating habits."

Another glare, and Harry was surprised the woman hadn't shrank back from it yet. "I was under the impression that his table manners were amongst the best at Slytherin table."

She tilted her head then with a sweet smile, as if he were a little daft, and said, "Oh dear. Perhaps his tutelage in the subject was lacking. I'm afraid I have gone and corrected the problem however, and he has been assigned to write a one foot essay on proper table manners due tonight at nine. Perhaps if there are others lacking at your table I could assign the same remedial measures?"

Severus held up his hand to forestall her. "No Dolores, that will be quite all right. If there are any in my house who are lacking in this area, I will see to it that the issue is resolved."

"Very well indeed," she said, and turned to leave, but she turned again then, and said, "Oh, and I would prefer if your son... Kenai was it? wrote his essay on his own. I'd hate to take away points for cheating." She left for good that time, up the stairs and out of sight, and in the shadows, Harry watched his father fume.

Good, he thought. I'm not the only one who hates you.

* * *

"Professor?"

She'd just told him to do lines... not just any lines, but lines with a quill that carved the words into the back of his hand and used his own blood for ink on parchment.

"Oh yes Mr. Potter. Didn't I tell you that I reserve a special punishment for those who feel the need to lie? Perhaps after 200 lines you will be straightened out a bit. I do feel so sorry for you after all, not having parents to set you straight, and so I'm afraid I have taken this duty upon myself. You will thank me later."

Harry bit his lip at the sweet voice and looked back down at the first line on the paper. He was not going to enjoy this. What would she do if he refused? Who knew what she was capable of if this was her idea of helping him. ‘I must not tell lies.' The second line was carved into his hand and he shut his eyes tight with the pain. After ten more lines he idly wondered what would happen if he dropped the evil quill and bolted from the room to find his father. Would he tell the evil woman that Harry was indeed his son? Would he save him from a disfiguring punishment?

He sighed and set to work again. No, he probably wouldn't, despite the fact that Harry had taken this detention in Kenai's place. The only thing that got him through the next 189 lines was mentally replaying Severus sticking up for Kenai in the Entrance Hall that afternoon, only Harry had replaced Kenai's name with his own, and had changed the words around a little.

‘I will not have you mutilating my son's hand.'

‘Oh why whatever do you mean? He's not your son, just a boy with no parents whom I'm trying to help.'

‘Can you not see the resemblance woman? He is my firstborn child! I love him and you will not touch him again!'

"Well well Mr. Potter, those lines have set in nicely I see."

Harry looked up, brought out of his make believe land where he was loved and wanted, and where he could feel safe. Looking down at his hand, he was surprised and disgusted to find that the lines in his hand were no longer healing, but were bleeding openly now... all over the desk in fact.

"Set my special quill on the desk if you please, and you may go back to your dorms, keeping in mind a lesson well learned."

Harry stood up without a word.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter?"

He turned, injured member cradled in his other hand.

"I'll expect you back tomorrow night for the rest of the lines."

"Professor?"

"Weren't you keeping count dear boy? You only did a hundred."

Harry paled and left the room.

He had only made it down the darkened hall and around the corner when he bumped into someone rather solid. Looking up he found Kenai, roll of parchment in hand.

"Watch it!" the boy snapped, before looking up to see Harry, and then down to the hand that was still bleeding furiously all over the place, despite Harry's best attempts to keep the blood contained.

"What- what happened to your hand?" He was pale, and Harry wondered if his brother was squeamish at the sight of blood. Harry wondered a lot of things about Kenai that he'd never been given the chance to find out.

"Detention with Professor Umbridge," Harry said, gritting his teeth through the pain. "100 lines with a blood quill and I'm to come back tomorrow night."

Feeling a little dizzy then, Harry made his way past the trouble that had gotten him into this mess in the first place, and said, "Good luck," behind him, leaving a stunned half brother in silence.

‘Dear Dad, you owe me for protecting your precious son from a bloody injury. I must not tell lies. Love Harry.'