Part I - Ashes

September 6th Year

The boy was insufferable. Severus had been saying it for years, and now they had all finally agreed with him.

"I just don't know what's gotten into that boy."

"It's as if he's possessed."

Not possessed, Severus had told them each Monday at the staff meeting as Potter was brought up again and again for the trouble he had caused. Just Harry, and that was the end of it in his mind, although the others still held that the child did not used to be like this.

"He was in the hall shooting bat bogeys at Peeves and laughing as Peeves scrambled for cover," Filius said with an air of indignity.

"Well what about his friends?" Pomona asked with concern. "Why aren't they keeping him in check?"

Minerva waved her hand to dismiss the notion. "No one in the tower will speak to him anymore. From what Mr. Weasley says he's set up curses around his bed and anyone who crosses the line into his space bursts out into pimples or something else unpleasant."

Severus crossed his arms as he surveyed the room of staff who were at a loss for what to do to the child. He had suggested expulsion on numerous occasions, but this was not to be, because the prophecy still hung heavy over Potter's head and he needed to be trained for it if they were to defeat Voldemort.

Albus cleared his throat and said, "We will continue with his current punishments. One night of detention for each offense he commits, and multiple detentions on the weekends. I still hold hope that one of us can get through to him, or that the punishments will straighten him out."

"He shows up late to detentions Headmaster," Filius said. "And last night he laughed all the way through mine, as if he didn't have a care in the world!"

"And let's not forget that he sometimes skips them altogether," Minerva said. "What are we to do with him when he skips detentions?"

Albus looked at his Potions Master who only raised a brow. Expell the brat, he thought loud enough to transcend the link between his and Albus' mind. Albus only cleared his throat again however and said, "I believe I have a solution."

Severus' face fell. Any solution that would come out of a look from Severus was not going to be a good one, as he was sure that the elder man would never expel the little terror.

Some of the staff shifted in their seats, anxious to hear what it was.

"Filius," Albus intoned, "what was Harry doing for detention last night?"

"He was dusting all the candles high on the ceiling."

"By hand?" Severus voice cut across, and Filius shook his head.

"By wand of course! How was he supposed to get up there to do it by hand?"

Severus rolled his eyes and the Headmaster turned to Minerva. "What do you do to him when he skips your detentions?"

"I assign him the same detention for the next night."

"I see."

"Severus, how many detentions has Mr. Potter laughed through or skipped when assigned detention with you?"

"None." His voice was flat. No, he did not like where this was going at all.

"And why is that?"

With another heavy eye roll, Severus crossed his arms in his seat and said, "Because I do not allow it. If he skips detention I find him and drag his sorry carcass down to the dungeons for double detention. He dare not laugh because he knows that if it appears he's enjoying it, he will stay longer and work harder. He served an all night detention last week for gluing Mr. Malfoy... to himself."

Despite the severity of the trouble that Potter had caused in his Potion's class, a few of the staff covered their mouths to hide a smirk. It was no secret that Draco was no peach to discipline either, although he fell a far sight short of the attitude that Potter held. At least Draco had the sense to keep his head low. The boy also had a strict parent at home however that would floo to the school on occasion after receiving a disciplinary letter to hide the boy, and was not shy about doing it publicly. There was no such discipline from home for Potter however. In fact Severus suspected that the little cretin's family was too lax on him over the summer, and that is why he had come back fully undisciplined as he was.

"Well then, for the time being at least, I recommend that all detentions Harry is to serve be served with Severus. He will decide the severity of the punishment based on his schedule and the nature of the offense committed."

Severus glared daggers at Albus, and this time the Headmaster raised his brow. "You know full well that I have a full schedule and do not have time to babysit a brat that needs to be thrown out on his rear end Headmaster. I have potions to make, lessons to plan, papers to grade, and a team to coach."

"And, a fifth year Gryffindor who is now fully under your disciplinary control. If need be I will allow you to assign a teacher's aid to help grade papers and brew potions. The aid will be paid from the school funds. I would suggest a Prefect... perhaps Mr. Cromby? He does plan on becoming a Potions apprentice after graduating, does he not?"

With another glare, Severus rose from his chair, all eyes in the room on him. "I will punish the boy as I see fit, and there will be no complaints from other staff about it." It was not a question.

Minerva sighed then and said, "Severus. At this point I'm open to almost anything. He's out of control. I don't know what's happened to him over the summer, but he's not the same boy that left last year."

Severus restrained himself from saying that this would not have happened if the staff had clamped down harder on the boy in previous years, and instead turned his back and strode out of the meeting. He had a Potions class in ten minutes, and he needed time to cool down before having to deal with a room full of first years. They were only a month into the term, and he could already tell, it was going to be a long year.

Ron and Hermione had abandoned him within the first week, although Ginny had held out longer before she too had called Harry a jerk and completely disassociated herself with him. She was dating Dean now, although Harry noted with some satisfaction that she didn't look happy with him. He tried to ignore that annoying pang of pain in the pit of his stomach that came about when he saw her and knew that she was no longer his. It is what he had wanted though, wasn't it? He had caused the split up after all with his attitude.

People stared as he moved past them, nose high and smirk on his face. Every now and again he took pleasure in turning rapidly and stomping his foot at a younger student, or at a girl unexpectedly, making her jump. Boyfriends threatened to beat him to a pulp, but Harry always took on the challenge and generally came out the victor, although he always ended up in detention over it.

After the second week of school McGonagall had threatened to remove him from the Quidditch team and Harry had scoffed. They could give him detention all they wanted, but they could do no real harm to him when he was in charge like this. They couldn't kick him out of school because he was the only one prophesied who could defeat the Dark Lord, and he quite enjoyed having the run of the place. The worst they could do was hand him off to Snape, which hadn't happened yet, and even then all Harry had to face was long, grueling detentions that kept him from having to do his homework. Not even Ron knew the truth, that Harry secretly did every one of his assignments, although he rarely turned them in. Sometimes he turned in half finished papers when in reality they were only his first draft, and the finished product was at the bottom of his trunk in his room. What were they going to do? Send a note home to his family? He laughed at the thought. What family?

It was a few days after McGonagall's threat that she came through on her promise and booted him from the team. It had been after he'd been caught drunk up in the astronomy tower by Professor Sinistra, who had gone up there to prepare for a late night class with the third years. Removing him from the Quidditch team was possibly the only punishment that could really hurt him, and it did, although he only allowed his behavior to escalate afterwards. Flying was the only time he felt free of burdens and anger. Flying was the only time he could let himself forget and be free.

Presently Harry was sitting on the grass under a tree near the lake as he skipped Charms class just to show Professor Flitwick who was in charge. After he'd served a ridiculously easy detention the night before and then been told off for laughing through it, he had decided that he just wouldn't go to Flitwick's class for a week, maybe more. It wouldn't hurt his grades any seeing as how he wasn't turning in any of his work anyway, although perhaps turning in O papers and getting an excellent grade on his test after not going to class for a long time would really show the squat little man. It would show him that Harry didn't need him to teach him anything at all, because he could do it all on his own.

Harry had been skipping a few classes randomly, although never Snape's because he hated to put himself through those detentions, and only once McGonagall's, because he hated the look of pity mixed with the stern look she wore while scolding him for missing her classes. He also tried not to skip out on Care of Magical creatures, because he hated to disappoint Hagrid, who had never been anything but kind to him. He wouldn't talk to Hagrid, but he wouldn't skip out on him either.

Suddenly feeling good in the warm sunshine, Harry stretched out and closed his eyes, hands behind his head, wishing he had his broom right now as he imagined himself flying during Quidditch practice with the rest of the team. Probably a good thing that he'd been kicked off anyway. The whole team were a bunch of choosers and losers and he didn't want to be around any of them. Well... except Ginny maybe. She wasn't bad like the rest of them, but he couldn't think on that right now or he might need to do something stupid just to keep control... just because he could.

The sunlight was blotted out suddenly and Harry's eyes snapped open to stare up at a tall silhouette with long black hair.

"What?" Harry spat, closing his eyes again and relaxing again, or at least in appearance. He could get away with anything with the other staff, but not with Snape. The man had been trying to push him out of Hogwarts since the day he'd first set foot off the train, and with his most recent behavior, he was positive the man had petitioned the Headmaster non-stop to have him removed permanently.

"Potter. You are due in Charms." Snape's silky voice held an air of warning that set Harry's nerves on edge, but he kept his eyes closed regardless.

"So?" Mistake number one.

Before he knew what was happening, he'd been roughly hauled to his feet, and in the process had lost his balance and nearly toppled back to the ground. Damn the man was strong. How could he just pick him up like that?

"What the hell?" Harry spat, feeling a little dazed. Mistake number two.

"What the hell sir!" Snape spat back, surprising Harry that he had used his own language towards him.

"S- sir?" Harry said uncertainly, cursing inside that old habits died hard and five years of schooling had taught him to use the respectful title.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the surprised look on Harry's face, and Harry schooled his face into a scowl again.

"You will address me as sir Mr. Potter, at all times, without question. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry said through gritted teeth. Did that mean he was allowed to curse after all? McGonagall would never have allowed it. Neither would Mrs. Weasley he remembered as the stray thought crossed the back of his mind unbidden.

"Good. Now get to Charms. Now!"

Harry stood his ground, arms crossed. "No bloody way, sir." Eyes narrowed he half expected the teacher before him to smack him upside the head for his attitude, but he was curious as to what would happen regardless.

"You have detention tonight with me Potter at seven pm."

"For cursing?" Harry queried indignantly.

"For skipping charms." Snape turned on his heel and stalked off, making the sunny day feel more gloomy than it ever should have, and leaving Harry feeling, strange, about the encounter with his Potion's Master.

That was strange, he thought, trying to work out what had happened. He didn't get in trouble for cursing, and he didn't get in trouble for being defiant. Those were things the other teachers had been jumping on him about for weeks now. The only thing he was going to be punished for was missing class though, and even that didn't seem to rankle Snape.

Picking up his bag Harry frowned as he went back into the castle. Snape's class was next and he was curious to see what else the pratt would do.

As Harry sat in the back row by himself, (on the Slytherin side), he thought about sending a gluing spell at Draco again, but decided that the last time it hadn't turned out very well. He didn't like the thought of scrubbing out years old mason jars that had held brains of various kinds of animals all night again. He was sure one jar had held human brains, and he hadn't been properly hungry for days afterwards.

Ron and Hermione resolutely refused to look in Harry's direction, as did most of the Gryffindors, even when Harry waded up a piece of parchment and hit Ron in the back of the head with it.

"Mr. Potter has earned himself a trip to the front of the room," Snape said without looking in Harry's direction. He picked up a three legged stool and set it in front of the blackboard and waited for Harry to move as other people sniggered. Nobody had ever been made to sit in the front of the class before, even after Neville once exploded a cauldron and shrank Snape down to the size of Flitwick.

When Harry hadn't moved after sixty seconds however, Snape turned and said, "Well Potter?"

Harry gave a little smirk and cocked his head sideways. "Not to the front of the bloody room sir."

"Fine," Snape said, not seeming perturbed at all, and Harry wondered if he'd taken a calming draught before walking in the door.

"Class, move your chairs to the other side of your work benches so that you can face Mr. Potter."

Surprise filtered across the faces in the room, including Harry's, before he snatched up his bag and with a scowl strode to the front of the room and plopped down onto the stool.

"Happy?" he asked with a scowl.

Severus made half a step towards Harry and he quickly added, "Sir," stopping the man in his tracks.

"Oh, I am never happy Mr. Potter," he said in a low tone so that only Harry could hear. He then tapped his wand on the blackboard behind Harry and told the class to get to work. Unfortunately for Harry, today's potion was a long and complicated one and the entire class would be spending most of the two hour class looking at the board... and him.

As Draco sent a smirk his way Harry dragged out his cauldron and thought, ‘Fantastic. Just bloody fantastic.'

* * *

The staff had conspired against him, as it turned out. They were now assigning all of Harry's detentions directly to Snape. The man couldn't have been happy about it, Harry thought, having to deal with his least favorite pupil, but Harry couldn't be so sure, because he could not seem to rile the man one way or another, unless he withheld the all important title of ‘sir'. Harry knew, because he had tested him this way and that, until he had run out of ideas.

Monday McGonagall had assigned him detention for failing to turn in any homework for two weeks straight. He scrubbed floors all night in the dungeons.

Tuesday Flitwick asked Harry why he hadn't turned in his homework that day with the others (which he had secretly in fact, slipped his homework under Ernie McMillan's as the homework was passed from table to table on it's way to Flitwick), and Harry had told him it was none of his damn business. Harry had to write an essay for Snape until ten pm about not disrespecting staff.

Wednesday Madam Pomfrey gave Harry detention with Snape (which he hadn't known she was allowed to do) for scaring some seventh year girls in the hall.

Thursday afternoon Harry was sent straight out of the Library by Madam Pince and down to Snape's office for mindlessly ripping pages out of one of his textbooks, and Harry spent detention meticulously gluing every page back into place by hand. In his defense he hadn't even realized he'd been doing it. He had been sitting doing his homework in secret and had spaced out he guessed. The next thing he knew he was being shouted senseless and was surrounded by twenty or more pages on the desk and floor.

To round off the week nicely Harry volunteered to walk himself down to detention when he shouted at Ron in Herbology for knocking into him on purpose. Professor Sprout stared at him and Harry said, "Why don't I just go to detention."

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," Sprout had said, and Harry grabbed his bag and sauntered out of the greenhouses.

Snape was in class seeing as how it was the middle of the day, so Harry opened the classroom door and stood on the threshold, just to be sure he wasn't in the middle of a lecture.

The Professor looked up from the stack of papers before him on the desk and sighed, though none of the first years in the room had noticed that he had done so or that Harry was even there.

"What is it this time?" Severus asked tiredly after he had motioned for Harry to come forward into the classroom and he had come to stand beside the desk, bag over his shoulder.

"Detention sir."

Snape only crossed his arms and waited for a further response. Harry was content to wait him out, except for the fact that the first year students in the room were now looking up to see why there was an older student in the room.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry said, "For shouting at Ron."

Snape pointed at a chair next to a timid looking first year girl in the front row, and said, "You will sit there for the rest of my class and you will take a copious amount of notes. If I find there is anything missing, you will be spending dinner scrubbing toilets."

Harry mumbled something with sir at the end and moved to the seat. The girl kept shooting glances at him, perhaps to see if he'd start barking or stomp his foot at her as he often did older girls, but he brushed his irritation at her glances away. He never bothered the first years. That just wouldn't be fair.

Snape began to lecture up at the front of the room, and Harry began taking notes, though he soon grew bored because he already knew the material, and began adding in other bits of information just to give himself something to do. They were talking about tertiary root systems today, and whenever Snape mentioned a potion one of the roots was in, Harry listed as many of the ingredients to that potion as he could remember, and sometimes added in how long the potions took to brew.

At a little intake of breath next to him, he looked down to see the girl looking at the five pages of notes he had taken in awe, and then back at her own one page. Not wanting her to get into trouble, he tapped her page with his quill to get her attention when she had looked back to his notes again, and realizing that she hadn't been paying attention, she went back to her own notes again. Snape had noticed with some interest that Harry had done this and thus kept the girl out of trouble, although Harry didn't know this, and went back to his notes.

At the end of the class, Harry waited until the first years had hurried out and stood to hand his notes to Snape. The man had wanted copious, so that's what he'd given him. Nine pages of notes. Even Hermione would have been proud, if she'd still been talking to him.

Harry was on his way out the door when he heard the Professor behind him. "Why is it Potter that you insist on getting yourself into trouble, but you become uncharacteristically nice in order to keep someone else out of it?"

He turned and just stared at his Professor. Was being nice uncharacteristic of him? "Well, you know me Professor," he spat, "I'm just that awful boy that's never nice to anyone." And then he left, suddenly angry. True, he hadn't been very nice to anyone, but it was the principle of the thing. No matter what or who he was, he was always somebody else in someone else's mind. Last year he had been perfectly nice, but Snape and the Dursleys had insisted he was just a brat or a freak, or one of any other number of names they had for him. Now he had become who they always said he was, and... Harry paused in thought. And it didn't matter, he told himself. Just keep on and let them think what they want. What do you need any of them for anyway?

Snape had other things to do aside from teach class and babysit Harry. He'd told Harry so, several times now when Harry had come to him for detention, especially during the weekend. Harry had begun to think that Snape had brewed some sort of permanent calming draught and used it on himself, but as it happened with all people in time, Snape once again grew irritated with him, although not to the extent he once did.

"On Saturday Potter? Why was it necessary to get yourself banned from the Library on a Saturday?"

Harry crossed his arms, irritated himself. He'd been spacing out, ripping pages out of one of his textbooks again, which is how Madam Pince had found him, before dragging him from the room by his ear. It still burned in fact as he stood before Snape in the Entrance Hall where he'd found him on his way to the Dungeons.

"I don't know sir, maybe it was just destiny that I ruin your Saturday."

Snape scoffed then, and said, "I will not allow you to ruin anything. You will serve detention out on the grounds while I work."

He strode off, and Harry strolled along behind him, out through the massive oak front doors. What work did Snape have to do out on the grounds?

Keeping a few steps behind Snape with his hands in his pockets, Harry noted with some dissatisfaction that there was noise coming from the pitch in the distance and saw that a team was practicing for the coming set of matches in a few weeks after Halloween. He missed flying, and with all the detentions he'd had since starting school, he hadn't even had a chance to go out on his own time to fly around.

"Potter!"

Apparently he'd lagged behind, and hurried to catch up, wishing he'd worn robes as a chill breeze picked up the further down the grounds and towards the forest they went.

"Pick these up Potter," Snape said pointing as he passed a group of school brooms in a pile on the ground. Brooms? Harry gathered the eight brooms up and hurried after Snape, who'd gone straight into the forest at a tree marked with four broomsticks in a line next to each other, carved deep into the bark.

Several times Harry dropped the brooms, and he'd quickly lost sight of Snape. Not that he cared to catch up to the man so he could do what was likely to be an all day detention, but he was curious now, and hoped the Professor had continued walking in a straight line so that he could see what sort of work the man had to do with brooms, in the Forbidden Forest, on a Saturday.

After walking a few minutes more, struggling with the brooms, Harry heard Snape's voice in the distance. "Decklan, I expect you to pick up the pace today. You can't catch it if you're lagging five minutes behind the other Seeker. And Rose, be sure to aim the Bludgers at the team today, not a hive of bees."

Harry approached the clearing curiously, arms wrapped tightly around the brooms, and was surprised to find that the clearing was rather large, almost as large as the Quidditch Pitch in fact, and on the far side of it there was an old shack with a door.

Nine pairs of eyes turned to stare warily at Harry just as he realized that there were nine students from all four houses, and Snape turned to see that Harry had finally made it.

"Put them there Potter, and then start shining the pile of equipment there." Snape motioned to a pile of old, beat up Quidditch gear piled haphazardly near a tree stump, and Harry set the brooms down before mutely moving to sit on the stump. He watched as Snape continued to talk to the rag tag group of Quidditch players, and wondered what they were all doing there. After ten minutes, the students mounted the brooms Harry had brought in, and the seventh year named Decklan got onto his own broom, and they rose into the air. Harry hadn't even noticed that Snape had come up next to him now.

"Shine Potter."

"Huh?" Harry's head snapped up. "Oh," and then he reached down and picked up a Keeper's helmet and a rag and began shining it mindlessly as he watched the players working on maneuvers.

Snape was quiet for a few moments as he watched the players as well, and then said, "This is the Hogwarts second string team. Students from any house may join with my approval. Occasionally when a position comes open on one of the house teams, second string team members are given the first opportunity to try out."

Harry frowned, trying to remember anything he might have heard about this team in the past, and something from his first year came back to him. George had said something about a Quidditch club that sometimes played against the house teams in the off season, but in all Harry's years as Seeker for Gryffindor, they'd never played them. He wondered why.

Snape blew a whistle that got the team's attention several times to correct something he'd seen them do wrong, and then sent them back to work before scolding Harry for not shining as quickly as he ought to be. Harry couldn't help it. He was mesmerized. Maybe it was just because he hadn't been on his own broom in so long, or because he had been kicked off the house team, or maybe it was because this second string team was pretty decent. Any way he looked at it, he couldn't take his eyes off of them.

When Snape called for a break, Harry set to work scrubbing the equipment hard, or at least pretending to as he listened to the team talking to each other. A few of them caught Harry staring though, and didn't take kindly to it.

"What are you looking at?" Decklan spat at him. Harry frowned and clamped his mouth shut, staring down at the beaten up old Quaffle he'd been given to scrub. Decklan was in Hufflepuff, and as far as Harry knew he'd never been mean to Decklan or his girlfriend, if he had one, so he wasn't sure what the issue was.

Decklan turned around to keep talking to his friends, and Harry looked back up, wondering at how easily some of these people got along when not in sight of their other housemates. Ethan Holcomb, and Elissa Newby for instance, were both from Slytherin, and yet there they stood talking easily with Decklan and another Hufflepuff named Grace.

Harry's eyes roamed over to where Snape stood talking to the only Gryffindor, a third year boy named Devon, and a fifth year Ravenclaw Harry couldn't remember the name of. A few feet from that group were the last three team mates, a second year Slytherin, a third year Hufflepuff, and a fourth year Ravenclaw. Straining his ears, he could just hear a few words of their conversation. "I wish we could get some good brooms instead of these old things."

"Yeah, mine keeps pulling to the left."

Similarly to that morning when he'd spaced out in the Library, Harry's eyes glazed over as he remembered something from his past. Later he guessed it was the Quidditch talk that had brought it on, but he was in a daze remembering a time when he had friends, back when he still believed that there was good in the world. Back when he still believed he had a chance.

"Professor, he's going to ruin our gear!"

"Potter!"

Harry jumped and his eyes darted around to see angry the angry faces of the second string team, some with hands on their hips. He swallowed hard and looked down to the Quaffle he'd been polishing. He'd rubbed the ball so hard that he'd taken the red paint clear off in the spot he'd been polishing.

"Potter." Snape's voice was perhaps more calm than Harry had expected after ruining the ball. The others clearly believed he had done it on purpose.

"Yes sir," he said, still feeling dazed.

"You're done for the day. You may go."

Harry set the ball down and hurried out of the clearing, angry voices easily heard behind him as the team complained about him to Snape and he tried to calm them down. Harry guessed he could understand why they were upset. Their equipment wasn't the greatest to start with... just the leftovers from the other teams. They were just leftovers from the other teams.

He didn't go straight back to the castle, instead he found a tree just on the edge of the forest and leaned against it, sinking down to the damp dirt, head in his hands. What was wrong with him? To be destructive on purpose was one thing... he did that just because he could and it gave him control, even control over what others thought of him. But to be destructive in a daze... that scared him. What else would he do if he spaced out?

Three hours later, when practice had ended, Harry was still there against the tree, deep in thought and despair. The team passed by without noticing him twenty yards off the path, but Severus slowed his pace, keen searching eyes finding the boy. He stopped to watch him, but Harry didn't move. An uncomfortable feeling squirmed in the pit of his stomach as he noted the defeated posture of the boy, and his suspicions that the Gryffindor had not intentionally ruined the Quaffle were confirmed. Deciding to let the boy be with his thoughts, he continued on at a call from one of the students up ahead on the path, deep in thought himself.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure if he should be dismayed or excited that he'd been given detention again the next Saturday. Professor Sprout thought he needed a detention for getting a low grade on his exam on Friday. Although he'd tried to do well, he just couldn't concentrate, for reasons he'd rather not think about just now. But now he waited in the Entrance Hall for Snape to tell him he'd been assigned detention again, and watched as Decklan and a few of the other team members walked by talking happily, although Decklan and Elissa glared at him as they passed.

"Again Potter?"

Harry turned to see Snape walking out of the Dungeon Entrance with a heavy cloak draped over one arm.

"Yes sir," Harry said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. He knew if Snape thought he were enjoying this then he'd assign him something more disgusting for detention.

"Very well, follow me."

Harry kept pace with him down across the crisp, frosty grass, shivering as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He would have loved to have had a jacket this winter, but he hadn't gotten a chance to buy supplies on Diagon Alley before school started, and his Hogsmead privileges had long since been revoked, so there was no chance of going into town to buy one. He would have been happy even to have his old ratty one from last winter, but Dudley had fed it to Aunt Marge's dog Ripper on his first day back from school, and now he had nothing to keep him warm.

"Would it not have been easier to simply study and do the work Potter?" Snape's voice got his attention and Harry mumbled something, adding sir at the end, although Severus didn't understand anything that had been said. Harry had done the work.

Having been made to carry the brooms again, Harry conjured a rope and tied them together to make them easier to carry into the woods. He'd done some research last week after detention and had found it in Hogwarts a History. Before the Pitch had been built, they had used this clearing for Quidditch games for the better part of three hundred years. According to the book there used to be benches and landings built up in the trees so students and staff could watch. All that was left now was the old broken down changing rooms, and three poles at one end of the clearing to serve as goal posts.

"Aw, come on Professor! Why's he here again?" There was an angry outburst followed by muttering and glares from the group.

Snape crossed his arms. "Tell me Mr. Ingram. Am I accountable to you? Need I explain myself to you, or shall you join Mr. Potter in detention today?"

Decklan glared at Harry and then said, "No sir," and snatched the bundle of brooms from Harry's arms. "Don't ruin anymore of our gear!" He hissed at Harry, before moving off to join his friends.

Harry was soon set the task of repairing some of the uniforms and gloves, the Muggle way, with needle and thread, but he was just as quickly distracted again watching the team practice and play. Despite being brought back to his task several times because he'd stabbed himself accidentally with the needle, Harry thought he'd gotten a handle on each player's strengths and weaknesses.

Decklan was too slow to be playing Seeker. He was big and a better build for Beater or Chaser. Elissa on the other hand was small like him and quick, and while it seemed she enjoyed playing Beater very much, Harry was sure she'd make an excellent Seeker.

He kept tabs in his head of the different tactics and maneuvers they were learning, and was surprised to find there were several he hadn't learned himself yet. He wondered if Snape had been on a team at some point, because he made a decent coach, and the players respected him for it.

Harry finished his task just as practice ended, and had made it through without destroying any of the gear, although he still received glares.

On the way back out of the Forest, Snape turned to him and said, "Potter. Don't get detention next Saturday," and then left him standing there alone on the trail. Snape must have been tired of having to drag Harry out there for detention.

* * *

He spent the next week careful not to do anything too terrible, at least not something that would warrant detention on the weekend. He did end up scrubbing toilets Monday and Tuesday night, and writing lines in front of the third year Potions class Thursday, but he made a point to stay in is dorm on Friday and not to piss anybody off. He had a plan, and he wanted to see it through.

The way Harry figured it, there was no way in hell he was getting back on the Gryffindor team... not with his grades as they were and the number of detentions he was getting each week. And Snape didn't want to have to babysit him every Saturday, so Harry wasn't going to be able to see the second string team practice. But what if Harry just... showed up with his broom? They couldn't turn him away if he'd behaved most of the week, could they?

Harry waited patiently at the top of the steps in the Entrance Hall until Snape had gone out into the chilly weather, heavy cloak on and gloves on his hands. It wasn't snowing yet, and probably wouldn't until after Halloween, but Winter was definitely approaching early this year, and Harry wished Dudley hadn't destroyed his gloves along with his coat.

As he stepped out onto the breezy grounds, Harry half wished he'd nicked one of Ron's coats from his wardrobe, just for the day. They all had patches on one part or another, but they were still ten times better than anything Harry had ever had from Dudley's hand-me-downs.

Knowing he was a good five minutes behind Snape and the team, Harry picked up his pace, hoping it would be a little warmer in the forest, and enjoyed the momentary warmth he received from jogging across the grounds.

As with both weeks before, he could hear voices ahead of him as he approached the clearing, and it sounded as if Snape was giving them instructions for the day. Harry approached slowly, Firebolt in hand and stood where they could see him behind Snape's back.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Decklan crossed his arms, and it was becoming clear that the seventh year despised Harry as if he were a Slytherin.

Snape turned around and did a double take. "You do not have detention today Potter."

"No sir," Harry said.

"He thinks he's gonna play Professor!" Decklan exclaimed, lifting a hand towards Harry's broom.

Snape turned back to his team and told them to get into the air. When he hadn't acknowledged Harry again after a few minutes, Harry went and stood next to him.

"I already have a Seeker Potter," he said flatly, arms crossed to ward off the cold. He noted Harry didn't have a jacket again, and rolled his eyes at the gall of the boy and his disregard for his own health.

"I'll play Chaser," Harry said hopefully.

"I have five."

"Oliver said I'd make a decent Beater," he tried.

"No Potter. I have two."

Harry frowned. "I can play Keeper."

Severus turned and sized Harry up, as if to ascertain if he was serious, and said, "No." He saw how the boy was grinding his teeth together, and it was a moment before he spoke again.

"I'll wait then sir." He went and sat on the tree stump he'd occupied in detention for the last two Saturday's, broom across his lap, and arms wrapped around himself as his eyes remained skyward, watching the team. He didn't move for the duration of the three hour practice, and the team seemed distracted as they kept looking down to Harry on the ground. Severus too was distracted, wondering that the boy had done what he'd told him, and had avoided getting detention on Saturday. His motivation was clear.

"Since you seem intent on being here Potter, carry some of the gear back." Snape motioned to the pile of dirty second hand gear on the ground as the team landed, and Harry scooped it up along with his broom and followed the team from the clearing. His hands, face, and arms were numb from the cold, and he was glad for the physical activity to get his blood flowing again.

The next Saturday went much the same. Harry showed up with his broom to scoffs from the team, and waited patiently on the tree stump, shivering as the weather grew colder. At least he's not in detention, Severus thought with some satisfaction. If he had put this much effort into staying out of trouble in the first place, he wouldn't have gotten kicked off of the Gryffindor team.

On the third Saturday that Harry appeared with a broom, the day before Halloween, the boy spent the day wiping his nose and stifling ragged coughs. Why on earth didn't the boy bring a coat? Severus supposed it was just to be defiant, just as he continued to spend Sunday through Thursday doing each week, earning himself detentions while being careful to avoid trouble on Friday.

"Potter, go back to the castle," Severus said as he walked over to him. The boy's broom sat across his lap as always.

"No sir," Harry said, eyes still glued to the players in the sky.

"It is not an option. You will go back to the castle. You will not come here without a coat again."

Harry looked up at the Potions Master and allowed his face to fall for only a moment before it turned to anger. He stood up, and before he could say anything, Severus said, "If you disobey me by appearing again without a coat, then I will ensure that you are assigned detention to another staff member each Saturday, inside the castle."

With a heavy glare, Harry stomped off, and Severus heard him cough heavily partway down the trail. He hated defiance, and he had tolerated the smallest amount from the boy in order to ensure that he was at least given respect as a starting place to obedience, but it still grated on him that the child had become so stubborn and thought it was his right to do as he pleased. Trying to draw his mind away from Potter and his insolence, Severus shook himself mentally and blew his whistle to bring his team down for their break and a strategy session.

* * *

November

Harry was pissed. Forget trying not to piss the staff off that week, he was so angry that he could care less, and spent every night in detention for it, and was even given detention during breakfast for mouthing off to Professor Sinistra in the hallway. Snape was not pleased, but if Harry was upset, than he was going to be sure Snape was unhappy too. Where did he get off ordering him around like that? He'd suffered through three weeks of cold weather determined to make the team, and now it was all wasted because he couldn't get his hands on a coat? The three warm coats in Ron's wardrobe crossed his mind again and Harry began working on a plan of how to get one of them unnoticed.

Saturday morning around five am, Harry put a silencing charm around Ron's bed so he wouldn't hear anything, and then took the oldest and thinnest of the three coats and stuffed it into his backpack. Broom in hand and bag slung over one shoulder, he hurried out of the dorm and waited in a small side corridor on the first floor. He hadn't wanted to take anything from anybody's wardrobe, but he was still sick and he had to get out there. Today was the day he was sure they'd let him fly. He had to fly... had to get into the air and get his mind off of things. Just flying by himself wasn't good enough. He needed a task... needed to twist and dive and avoid flying black Bludgers.

Soft snowflakes fell over the castle and grounds as Harry followed Snape out of the castle once again and towards the old Quidditch clearing. Snape hadn't seen him, and Harry waited until the man was well into the woods before he entered himself, not wanting to be heard coughing in the snow and breeze lest he be sent back into the castle again.

He was halfway to the clearing when something from the darkened woods tackled him suddenly, taking him and his broom to the ground. Harry's first thought was that a beast of some sort had finally gotten him, as he knew all manner of them lived in the Forbidden Forest, but that thought was shattered when Decklan appeared over him, pinning him to the ground.

The force of being knocked down had sent Harry into a coughing fit, but Decklan talked over the noise.

"Forget it jerk. You're not joining our team. I don't care if you sit out there all year trying to get pity just because you didn't want to bring a jacket. It's not happening. Got it?"

Harry glared up at the older, stronger boy. He'd taken on bigger guys before, and the only thing that was keeping him from beating the snot out of Decklan was the fact that he had to stay out of trouble to join the team. There was no way Snape would let him on if he beat up the man's Seeker. That wouldn't look good at all. It would look as if Harry was trying to take the Seeker out of the picture to open up the position for himself. That's why Harry hadn't said anything yet to Snape about Decklan not being right for the position.

"Whatever you tell yourself to get to sleep at night," Harry said. He pushed the boy off of him and got up, coughing again. Decklan glared and moved off into the woods ahead of him, no doubt to tell Snape Harry had done something he hadn't.

When Harry got to the clearing, the team was up in the air, including Decklan. He went and sat on his stump, which had a thin coating of snow, and lay his broom across his lap, concentrating hard on suppressing his coughs. He didn't look at Snape, but knew the man was watching him.

During the break in the middle of practice, Snape came over to him. Harry had withdrawn his hands up into the sleeves and had given up on keeping the snow out of his hair.

"You are wearing Mr. Weasley's coat Potter."

"I borrowed it," Harry said, not looking at his Professor. He was a terrible liar, and knew his eyes would give him away.

"You are on speaking terms with him again then?"

Harry coughed hard and felt the air escape his lungs, trying not to clench his eyes shut with the pain of it. He hated being sick. "Not exactly, no."

"Hm." Luckily for Harry, one of the team members slipped in the snow and mud then and Snape hurried over to be sure that she was ok. She was, but it was time for the break to be over and Snape was no longer thinking about questioning Harry about the jacket, for the moment, as he had gone back to blowing his whistle and motioning for his team to practice different maneuvers.

At the end of practice Decklan shoved past Harry roughly, making him drop the gear he'd picked up to carry out of the clearing without having been asked. He scooped it up again and trudged through the snow, feeling light headed as the headache he'd been nursing for a few days started in on him again.

Everyone was inside by the time he'd made it back to the Entrance Hall, although Snape had lingered to talk to one of the younger Ravenclaw team members. Harry had just closed the massive front doors when he heard Ron's traitorous voice and froze.

"There he is Professor! See, I told you he stole it!"

Harry turned, mind foggy, and saw Professor McGonagall sternly striding over to him.

"Mr. Potter. You have taken Mr. Weasley's coat, and I insist you return it to him now and then go straight to detention with Professor Snape. Thievery is not acceptable, as I'm sure you are well aware."

Harry's eyes searched the hall and found ten or more pairs of eyes trained on him. He hated being called a thief in front of them, and knowing it was true, but he hated even more for people to know he didn't have a coat to begin with. That would require explaining, and he didn't need any of that.

He hurriedly undid the buttons, working furiously to get the wretched thing off and stifle a cough at the same time, but instead of handing it over to Professor McGonagall, he threw it on the ground and kicked it at Ron, who was standing there looking dumb. Some friend he had turned out to be, ratting him out like that. But wait... they weren't friends anymore, were they? He had made sure of it.

"He's wrecking it!" Ron shouted just as Harry had a severe coughing fit, brought on by suppressing it for too long. He doubled over and clutched at his burning chest, and the act of doing so along with being dizzy allowed gravity to pull him over head first and straight into the cold stone pavers on the floor.

Dazed, he pushed himself up to slowly to sit on his knees and heard someone saying that he was faking, but he was sure it wasn't Ron or one of the two Professors present. He swallowed hard, wanting to cry in his embarrassment, but felt too weak to do even that. It was long moments before he registered that Snape and McGonagall were by his side on the floor and that it had been Decklan who'd called him out as a faker.

"He's been sick since last week," he heard Snape saying through a haze to McGonagall. "I'd assumed he'd been up to the Hospital Wing."

"Come on Mr. Potter." He was pulled to his feet on both sides, and he tried to shrug them off, but they were too strong. He hadn't eaten that morning in favor of hiding out with Ron's coat and that hadn't helped him keep any of his strength.

As he was supported past Ron, who was still looking dumbstruck, Harry turned and said angrily, "It's not like he needs three coats."

"That's enough Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, although her voice was less stern as she gave a look to Severus that Harry didn't see. His head hurt from going straight into the stone floor and he was just trying to focus on walking as he was being lead along.

Harry had given himself a concussion from falling over head first, and was given a hospital bed for the next three days as he was treated for the head injury and pneumonia. When he was lectured three times by Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall for not telling somebody that he needed a coat, Harry insisted each time, "I had one. I threw it away because I was pissed that it wasn't nice." Of course it was a lie, but he couldn't stand the embarrassment of them just thinking that he was that poor. His parents vault had gotten him this far, but there wasn't much left there, even if he would have purchased a new coat had he been given the chance.

Snape never came to see him in the Hospital Wing, but the day Harry got out he spent an unusually lazy detention in the Dungeons writing an essay about theft and why it was wrong. He suspected it was because he was still feeling weak and wouldn't have been much good at scrubbing floors that he was made to sit and write.

When he got back to his room for the first time in days, Harry found Ron's coat in a heap on the end of his bed, dirty shoe print still on it from where Harry had kicked it. He didn't know if this meant that it was his now, or if Ron was going to say he'd stolen it again, because they still weren't talking. Maybe Mrs. Weasley had written to him and told him to give it to Harry.

A few minutes later, Ron came into the dorm to get something, and Harry snapped, "What's this?"

Ron stopped and stared at his once best friend. "All you had to do was ask. You don't have to be a jerk about everything all the time." And then he was gone. Harry's stomach caught in his throat at Ron's words. Yes he did. He did have to be a jerk all the time. And now he didn't know how to stop.

Harry hated Christmas. Being stuffed up the chimney by Dudley was his first memory of Christmas, and the rest held similar nightmares. That is, all the rest except for the ones at Hogwarts. Sometimes he'd had to spend Christmas alone, but twice Ron had stayed with him, and his friends... well, his former friends had always made sure he'd gotten gifts. Last year the Weasley's had given Harry one of Percy's old black coats. It had been very nice and well kept. Dudley had thrashed it of course.

Sitting on a low window ledge in the Great Hall after lunch, Harry watched as students had a snowball fight out on the grounds. He thought that he'd very much like to join them, but Decklan was out there, and so were Ron and Hermione. He wasn't wanted. What if he just showed up and asked to play? No, that wouldn't go so well. Look what had happened when he'd asked Professor Flitwick to help decorate the tree there in the corner?

Harry's eyes wandered over to Flitwick, who was still standing on a ladder and decorating the tree with charms. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were helping him from the ground, choosing decorations and colors, and where to place them. They hadn't even been there when Harry had asked forty minutes ago. "No, I think not Mr. Potter," was all Professor Flitwick said to him. Harry sighed. He wasn't worthy to decorate a stupid tree. Wasn't worthy of anybody's company. Biting his lip he turned back to looking out the window. Trees be damned. Who cared if he'd never been allowed to decorate one before?

Anger suddenly filled him and he turned to watch the tree decorating again. There were several trees around the hall, and even Draco and Pansy were in the other corner at a smaller tree lifting Slytherin green ornaments onto its branches. Draco had always been nasty to him, but he still got to decorate!

Pulling his wand out of his sleeve, Harry discreetly aimed it at the box of tiny red ornaments at the base of Flitwick's ladder. He'd decorate if he wanted to... just after everybody else had left. When he was sure none of the other few students in the hall sitting at tables playing games or writing letters were watching, he accioed one of the small orbs right into his hand. No one had seen... good.

Peering down at it he noted his distorted reflection in the frosted glass. He hated what he saw there, and figured that he might as well really look that way for all anybody else cared. Maybe that's what the Dursley's saw when they looked at him. They saw the truth. They saw a misfit.

He closed his hand around the glass orb, completely concealing it because it was so small, and went back to staring out the window as laughter could be heard from outside. His face was stony and emotionless, but inside he swelled up with injustice at the thought that he could never be normal like them. Never normal.

Professor Severus Snape wished he had found as peaceful a scene as Harry simply sitting by the window looking depressed, but instead he found a shouting match between Harry and Professor Flitwick. The 20 students sitting around the hall had all turned to stare.

"That is theft young man and I will not stand for it!"

"I didn't, steal anything!" Harry shouted, raising his voice an octave above Flitwick's, which wasn't hard because the man's voice was often described as a squeak. Severus observed that if Harry wanted to he could have towered over the man had he come close enough, but he remained by the wall of windows standing his ground and looking cornered. Severus narrowed his eyes slightly as he took in the child's stance. Anger radiated off of him, but there was something else also, and Severus tried to brush away the notion that it might have been fear. These days Harry feared no one.

"Give it back this instant and then go straight to detention Potter!"

Harry's face scrunched up, and Severus knew what was going to happen a split second before it did. Harry raised his arm and threw the ornament to the hard stone floor, shattering it beyond repair by magic.

"Oh!" Flitwick squeaked in surprise and Severus knew why. These same ornaments had been used on Christmas trees at Hogwarts for nearly two centuries. Every year they added some new ones, but they always continued to use the old as well, to remember Christmases past.

Filius was turning red now and Severus chose this moment to step into the scene. They had thousands of ornaments from the past and the tradition would live on, but Potter might not if he made the Charms Master angry enough. Severus had never seen it happen before, but there was a first time for everything.

"Might I enquire as to what is happening here?"

While Filius tried to compose himself long enough to speak, Severus glanced over at Potter, who was standing stock still and emotionless now. He'd seen the boy like this on countless occasions, and thought it was rather like the boy had simply checked out of reality.

The last thing that Harry heard after Snape's question to Professor Flitwick was, "That boy! He's ruining Christmas!" And then he spaced out and didn't hear anything again until Snape prodded him to move out of the hall and off to detention. Only it wasn't detention they were going to, as Harry soon found out.

For the first time in Harry's memory, he was asked to take a seat in Professor Snape's office. Not demanded, but asked, and asked about his side of the story. So it was true... there really was a first time for everything.

Harry wasn't sure why he was feeling so calm, but he was, and was grateful, because anger directed at the Potions Master always lead to more trouble than it was worth. But as he started to mull things over as he tried to form a response, the hot coal of anger began to heat again in his stomach.

"He wouldn't let me decorate Professor! I didn't steal anything! I was going to put it on the tree after he left!" He was so angry he felt like jumping out of his seat was called for as he told his side of things, but stayed seated nonetheless.

"Was smashing the 700 year old ornament of Gryffindor house called for?"

"Well if I couldn't put it on the tree why should anybody else? It's not like I'd done anything wrong before that! I even asked nicely!" And it was true, because he really had. He'd had no attitude when he'd gone to Professor Flitwick to ask. He'd simply looked up and quietly asked if he could put one up.

"I gather he said no?"

Harry crossed his arms and looked away. "Nothing new there."

Severus sighed as Potter continued to stare at the edge of his desk, frown firmly in place. Yes the teen had done something wrong in smashing the ornament, but perhaps it was not because he meant to do wrong, but rather because he did not know of, or could not think of another way to deal with his anger. While the boy had always been a little on the defiant side (the annoyingly defiant), he had never been one to just give into his anger like he had done consistently this year. Interesting how one could forget a lifetime of learning how to handle issues. Or perhaps he was just choosing to do things a different way.

"Mr. Potter. You will go back up to the Great Hall and you will apologize to Professor Flitwick... politely," he added with a stern look at Harry's stunned look.

"What!? But he-" Severus stood up, towering over Harry and cut him off. He had not said sir.

Despite that Severus hadn't said anything, Harry grumbled something as he looked back to the floor, and then said, "Yes sir. What's my detention after that?"

"I have not yet decided Mr. Potter. Go and do as I have said and then go to your common room until dinner."

Harry mumbled a quiet "Yes sir," and then was gone.

Severus sat back down and stared at the second string team roster sitting on his desk. He'd been working on it before he'd gone up to the Great Hall in search of Decklan, but now he stared at it unseeingly. He had been given the task of punisher in order to try to instill some fear and respect into the boy. Obviously punishment was not working, as the child was still having as many issues as he'd had before, aside from on Fridays.

He frowned and took note of what he was staring at. Potter had been good for the chance to keep coming to practices. He wanted to play. Hm. How interesting that he would behave for a chance to play for a bunch of second stringers when he could have stayed on the Gryffindor team if only he'd behaved in the first place.

Whatever his reasoning, the boy was willing to stay out of trouble for a chance to play again. Perhaps they'd been going about this all wrong. Punishing undesired behavior was not doing the trick, and (although he despised the idea of changing tactics) Severus wondered if rewarding the desirable behavior was a better way.

Noting the change he'd made in the roster, he eyed the empty Beater spot. Elissa had been moved up to first string when Devon Cornby's grades had dropped and his parents had taken him off the team. "Fool," he said to himself as he scratched Harry's name down in the empty space with a quill, just to see if he could get a feel for what it would be to have the boy on the team. Despite belief to the contrary, the ceiling did not fall in, and a headache did not start in at having his name there. Hm.

Leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, Severus remained deep in thought about the change he would try to enact after Christmas holiday. Loathe as he was to admit it, he perhaps cared about what happened to the blasted brat after having to spend so much time with him in detention. If for nothing else, he wanted to show everybody that he would be the one to turn the child around. He hoped he could.

* * *

Harry had already hexed the annoyingly loud clock silent. There he sat in the common room all alone with the damned thing ticking, the only sound he had to keep him company. Every single Gryffindor had gone home that year except for him. He didn't even have Hedwig to pet. He wouldn't after what Uncle Vernon had done to her.

Jumping up suddenly with the need to move burning inside him, Harry paced. I hate Christmas. I hate Christmas. I hate Christmas. He thought it with each turn. More than that he hated everyone for leaving him there alone. Not that it mattered. He had chased them all away, hadn't he? He had chased the Dursleys off after all with his ‘freakishness.' He wrinkled his nose at the dirty word. Even in the wizarding world he could never just be normal. People always staring at his scar, talking behind his back about every move he made. Even Ron and Hermione did it to him when they thought he wasn't within earshot. Always talking about him. The Dursley's did it, and they had taken off. Ron and Hermione did it, and so did the rest of the school. What silly thing had ever made him think that they wouldn't just off and abandon him? He didn't know, but as he stood there now in the midst of the empty, lonely common room, he wished he could have that belief back, just for tonight. He hated Christmas. He hated being alone. Always alone.

Running a hand through his messy hair, Harry decided to make a trek up to the Library. He'd been granted provisional use of it again provided there were no more book ripping incidents. Hermione read when she was upset. Maybe it would work for him. If it didn't then he was considering donning Ron's old coat and trekking out into the four foot deep snow with his broom to practice in the second string's makeshift pitch.

The library was quiet, and while Harry was sure Madam Pince was there somewhere because the doors were unlocked, she was nowhere in sight. Just the fact that he knew someone else was there somewhere made him feel a little more relaxed. Maybe he could pretend like he'd been invited there... pretend like he was wanted somewhere.

Not sure what he wanted to read, Harry went to a part of the library he'd never been to and began walking down the isles, reading book spines as he went, fingers brushing them lightly. He had just paused at an aging book with the title, ‘Fogwarts Guide To Hogwarts,' when he heard a noise like someone scoffing behind him. Dropping his fingers, he turned expecting to find Madam Pince keeping an eye on him with her precious books, but found Draco instead.

The blond's arms were crossed as he leaned against the end of a tall bookshelf. "Come to destroy something else Potter?"

Harry frowned. He really wasn't in the mood for this. He wanted company, but Draco wasn't it. Turning to go back to searching for a book, Harry was stopped by a cruel taunt, clearly aimed at getting him riled up.

"You know, people never wanted to be around you anyway, even before you went pratt this year. I could see it in the eyes of your pathetic friends every time they looked at you. It was pity why they stayed you know, but pity couldn't keep them around forever when you're just that repulsive."

Harry turned to give the git a piece of his mind but the boy had already gone, knowing he'd pushed just the right buttons and not wanting to stick around for the fall out. Harry was breathing hard, and his heart felt funny beating the way it was in his chest.

Having the urge to pull books off their places on the shelves haphazardly and begin ripping into them, Harry hurried from the library before he had the chance to do it, unaware that Madam Pince had heard everything, and that her eyes had followed him out.

Rushing through darkened halls Harry was reminded every now and again that it was Christmas eve as he spied someone in a portrait wearing a Santa hat or saw decorations in the hallways. And with Draco's words echoing in his ears, he was reminded that he was alone, and that nobody understood. God what he'd give for just one person to understand. Just one person to give a damn about him. How could he care about himself if no one else valued him?

Finally out of breath from fast walking halfway around the castle, Harry stopped and doubled over, too hurt and upset to know what to do. All he wanted was somebody to be with right now. Yeah, like that would happen. The only person he could count on spending time with was Snape if he got detention... wait. Snape!

Hurring toward McGonagall's office Harry tried to think of a way to get himself into detention. He was sure she'd be in her office or her quarters which were just down the hall. Really all he'd have to do was create some sort of racket to get her to come out.

Finally in the right corridor halfway between her office and quarters, Harry looked for something to throw about, but there was nothing. He could rip a banner off the wall, but that wouldn't make enough noise and he hated to damage things just for the sake of damaging them.

Despite trying to suppress Draco's voice from creeping up on him in the back of his mind again, the Slytherin's words crept in again and made Harry start to fume. He really would have liked to have given the other boy some harsh words. Well... he might as well shout them anyway now that he had need of making noise. The Professors hated it when he cussed, and he knew from experience that was worth a one way ticket to the dungeons.

"Shite! Stupid bloody piece of sodding pratt!" He knew he wasn't making any sense, but it was how he felt... every day. Confused, jumbled, mixed up. "Biggest sod to ever walk the earth! What a filthy little..."

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry spun from where he'd been standing and shouting at the top of his lungs to the ceiling and an invisible Draco.

"Yes Maam?" Harry said with a smile, hands behind his back.

She eyed him carefully.

"Guess you'll just have to give me detention won't you Professor?" Harry asked cockily.

She tilted her head sideways and said quietly, "Not today Mr. Potter. Not on Christmas."

She turned to walk away, but was stopped in her tracks by Harry's angry, raised voice.

"I hate you!" He was so mad. Why didn't she understand? Why couldn't she just send him to Snape?

Turning slowly with a sadness in her eyes that startled Harry, making him stand up straight and completely still, she said calmly, "I hate you too Mr. Potter," and then she turned and was gone.

What? He didn't actually hate her... it was just something that had slipped because his emotions had taken hold of him... but she hated him? His head of house hated him? Her words had been calm and considered. He knew he was disliked, but he had been wrong. He knew now that he was hated and that knowledge gripped him again, just like it had done over the summer with the Dursleys, or rather, without them.

Feeling defeated and angry and lost all at the same time, Harry was finally ready to burst with the emotions demanding to be let out. Shouting curses hadn't helped. Shouting he hated his head of house hadn't helped. Nothing had helped and nothing ever would, and that made him even angrier.

Being only two floors above the Entrance Hall, Harry hurried down sets of steps as fast as he could. The only thing he could think of now was to venture outside as he had planned earlier, but upon opening the doors to the outside world he found a blizzard and knew he'd die if he went out in it, even with Ron's coat.

Shutting the doors heavily, Harry turned to the only human like thing in sight: a large suit of armor, and began kicking it. It hurt his feet and fists to pummel the stupid thing, but he ignored the pain and racket he was making and continued trying to take his frustration out on it. It creaked and groaned in response to his abuse of it, and while he thought it might come to life as the suits of armor sometimes did and pummel him back, he almost hoped it did. Then maybe he could spend Christmas asleep and without any feelings at all. He could only hope.

With a final gargantuan push that took all of his strength Harry was able to knock the two hundred pound thing to the ground, clanking echoing throughout the entryway, and continued kicking it until a strong pair of hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him away.

"Ugh! Let go! Let go!" He struggled to kick it some more, but was being held tight despite his curses of anger.

"Calm yourself Potter."

The words and sound of the voice was unexpected and it took Harry's mind a few moments of struggling to register it. It was Snape, and he went lax, feeling too defeated to keep fighting. He didn't even consider how this man was suddenly having this effect on him this year.

Snape let go and from behind Harry said, "I believe you have earned yourself detention Mr. Potter."

"Yes sir." Severus wasn't sure, but the teen's voice sounded choked, and he wondered what had riled him so.

"Follow me."

A few minutes later Severus had set the boy to scrubbing floors. It was nearly eleven o'clock already, and he wanted to go to bed rather than keep the Gryffindor there all night for the vandalism he'd inflicted on Sir. Ganfrey's armor, but he was too busy observing Harry with curiosity to think overmuch on it.

The child had undoubtedly been crying to some extent, and it amazed him that as Harry filled a bucket with water from the sink in the back of the Potion's room, and got on his hands and knees to scrub, he was calming down. He wiped his eyes across his sleeve and barely even seemed to notice his Professor was there at all it seemed. Was it something about the methodic back and forth of the scrubbing that was helping him, or something else? As Severus thought about it and about his earlier decision a few days ago to consider putting Harry on the team as a reward for any good behavior, Harry scrubbed the floors and was deep in thought himself.

It was ok now. He was with Snape. Even with that absurd thought Harry smiled. He didn't know why. Didn't know why being with Snape was a good thing other than that he didn't have to spend this night alone. Another absurd thought struck him as he slowly made his way towards one corner of the room: this was the best Christmas present he'd have this year. It was the only one he had.

"We all have choices we have to make Mr. Potter, and we must all pay the consequences for those choices. The question is, will you continue to pay the unpleasant consequences for your less than desirable choices, or will you choose another path?"

Snape's words echoed in Harry's mind yet again as he sat in the Great Hall by himself at lunch. The man had pulled him into his office after Potions that morning just to talk to him... no detention required this time.

Harry stared down at his sandwich, not hungry in the slightest. He'd begun to believe that just maybe Snape was beginning to understand him, but now he knew how wrong he had been. Nobody understood, and nobody ever could.

He might have been inclined to believe the man at some point in time, about there being consequences for people's actions, but that just wasn't true. The Dursley's never paid any consequences for treating him as they did. They never paid a single consequence for refusing to feed him or for making him sleep in the cupboard under the stairs every year when he returned home from school. They would never pay for what they did this summer. No, Snape was full of himself, either that or extremely naïve.

The only thing he was right about was that they all had choices. That was something Harry knew well. He had consistently been taking control of his life via his own choices all year now, ever since he'd been back to school. Even if the others considered them ‘less desirable' choices, they were his, and he would not let others control him.

Anger filling him at the way Snape thought he could step in and try to take control, Harry turned his chin up and glared at the staff table where Snape was talking to Dumbledore. He turned back to the table and wondered what he could do to piss Snape off. He was tired of the man's false patience and false caring. Stupid pratt. He hated him and the way he made Harry feel like he was the jerk... like he was the one something was wrong with.

Seeing the bowl full of mashed potatoes in front of him and seeing Draco across the hall laughing at something somebody had said, Harry impulsively whipped out his wand and sent the mashed potatoes across the hall at Draco's head. There, two birds with one stone he thought smugly. That would show Draco to screw with him and show Snape that Harry knew exactly what making choices was about.

The mashed potatoes dumped themselves over Draco's pristine blond hair and he stood up shouting. Harry turned his chin up at Snape again with a defiant look and then stood up and marched out of the Great Hall, ready for whatever detention would be his ‘consequences' for his actions.

Instead of Snape marching out of the Great Hall however, Draco came instead. Harry had just turned expecting to see Snape attached to the hurried footsteps, but was caught off guard as Draco shoved him hard in the chest, knocking him to the floor.

"What the hell is wrong with you Potter?" Draco spat down at him, still covered in potatoes. "You wonder why the hell nobody likes you? Figure it the feck out!"

Harry scoffed. "Why don't you look at your own actions before you criticize mine." He pushed himself up just as Snape marched into the Entrance Hall.

"Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you take a shower and clean yourself up before your next class."

"Potter, come with me." He swept past the boys and Harry turned on his heel to follow the angry Potion's Master.

As soon as they were in Snape's office, Harry wasn't sure if he was pleased or dismayed to find that Snape's attitude had indeed changed. The calm exterior he had presented all year had vanished and was replaced by the familiar old Snape. Harry swallowed, and tried to be ready for whatever the man would do to him.

"Did what I said this morning mean nothing to you!?" He spat it out angrily, and Harry fought to stand his ground.

"You're a liar!" Harry shouted angrily. The anger had been boiling in him since the last time he'd been there, less than two hours ago. "There's no consequences for people's actions!"

"You will receive detention for the stunt you just pulled."

"What about Draco!" Harry said angrily. "He shoved me in the Great Hall!"

"He was provoked," the Professor said, some of his calmness settling back over him again.

In contrast, Harry shouted, "I was provoked!"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "You will explain."

Crossing his arms, Harry plopped into the chair, not ready to explain anything. Severus also sat behind his desk, and waited patiently.

"Mr. Potter, I asked you a question."

"He cornered me in the library Christmas Eve and..." and he didn't want to finish that thought.

"And what?"

"And nothing sir."

Severus eyed him carefully for long moments, before sitting forward in his chair and saying, "I had hoped what I had told you earlier would make an impact Mr. Potter. I had perhaps not considered that you were already aware of what I was saying."

Harry eyed him suspiciously. Was he admitting he was wrong?

"Regardless of provocation however, it was inappropriate to take vengeance as you did."

Suppressing the urge to growl, Harry crossed his arms and looked away. "Regardless of provocation, Draco took vengeance on me in the Entrance Hall anyway, and he isn't getting any ‘consequences'," he snarked.

"Mr. Malfoy will be hearing from me later. It was necessary that I speak to you first, and also that he be allowed to clean up. Do not make assumptions about others simply because you do not see what you wish to see." His voice was stern, and Harry glanced over at him before turning his head to the side again. Severus knew the boy was pretending not to listen, but was listening anyway. Good, he thought, because he wasn't going to repeat himself again with what he had to say next.

With a sigh, Severus crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

"Mr. Potter, we are going to try something different."

Yes, there were Harry's eyes flitting up to meet his in curiosity. He was listening after all, though he remained silent.

"Punishing you for your misbehavior seems to have gotten us nowhere. You continue to do as you please despite the consequences." Harry stuck his chin out a little bit, and Severus was sure if he looked in on the boy's thoughts the boy would have been thinking, ‘good.' He continued on regardless.

"Do you still wish to gain a spot on the second string team?"

"Yes." Harry uncrossed his arms and sat up, though his eyes remained narrow with suspicion.

"Then you have gained it. Elissa has been moved to Slytherin first string and there is an open Beater position."

Harry seemed to be thinking it over as Severus pulled out an old roster and made a show of scratching Harry's name down, despite that it was already down on another copy.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because I am in need of a Beater Potter, and you are in need of a lesson."

"In flying? Ha." He scoffed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms again.

Severus leaned forward and said, "In life Potter." This received an eye roll from Harry, but Severus ignored it.

"You are already aware of when practices are. They will continue as scheduled unless you are otherwise informed by myself. You will wear a coat until spring when the snow thaws and the wind dies down." Here Severus opened up a desk drawer and tossed a pair of black gloves on the desk in front of Harry. "You will also wear those, and you will do explicitly as I say, or you will be suspended from the team. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir." Severus caught the hint of surprise and excitement in the Gryffindor's voice.

"You will not receive more than one detention this week, or you will not practice Saturday and Sunday. We have an upcoming game against the Hogsmeade Garrison in two weeks, and if you do not play in the next four practices, you will not play in the match."

"We play games?"

Severus gave a stern look at Harry. "Yes Potter. The four house teams are not the only teams in the area. The Hogsmeade Garrison is made up of shopkeepers and occasionally guest players. All of them were on their house teams in school, and one is a seasonal back up player for the Appleby Arrows."

"We get to play in the Pitch?"

"No. There is a pitch on the other side of the Forbidden Forest on the edge of Hogsmeade."

The boy was smiling despite himself and Severus felt the need to remind him of the rules. "Remember Mr. Potter. Too many mis-steps and you will be useless to me because you will be warming up the bench."

"Yes sir," Harry said, as he stood to go, gloves in hand.

After Harry had left the office, Severus wondered if he had finally gone crazy, allowing the child space on his team. If anything, he thought to himself, the other team members would keep him in line. This team wasn't like the house teams. They were woven tightly together and there was no room for deviance, because from here there was no where else to go. There was no third string to fall back to, and there was not a surplus of players to call in to play if one of them got kicked off the team or had to sit out a game. Even during practice if one was missing, it was difficult to train them in the way they needed to be trained. What many didn't know was that while some of the second stringers never made it to their house teams, many of them had a passion for Quidditch so great that they often went on to try out and join professional teams after graduating.

Conjuring himself a headache potion from his private stores, Severus knew that Decklan and some of the other team members would not be happy about his choice, and prepared himself for the complaints he was sure to get. Let this be the right decision he prayed, lest everyone be affected negatively.

* * *

Three people pushed past Harry roughly, each hitting Harry's right shoulder, and he grunted, noting that the last and hardest hit had come from Decklan, the team's captain. Hmpff. Let them be pissed that he was on the team. He'd show them that he could hold his own. Decklan didn't even belong as a Seeker. As if sensing Harry's thoughts, Decklan turned and gave Harry a sneer. Professor Snape must have already said something to them about not complaining, although it was clear by the way they acted and had acted previously that they didn't want Harry there.

Harry waited patiently in the snow, warm in Ron's old coat and the gloves Snape had given him, and watched the others interact. Of the nine of them there were two Gryffindor's, himself and the third year Keeper Devon Pearce. Harry had never had any interaction with him, but he'd seen him often in the common room. The two Slytherins were Harry's beater partner Nathaniel Shield's, a second year, and one of the chasers Ethan Holcomb, who was in fifth year.

The other two main chasers were Grace Goddard, a fourth year Hufflepuff, and Blake O'Toole, a fifth year Ravenclaw. The two back up Chasers were Angel Hawke a fourth year Ravenclaw, and a third year Hufflepuff named Faith Hunt. That just left Decklan Ingram, who was the eldest of them there, and who also belonged to Hufflepuff.

Harry shook his head. In December he'd spent his time sitting on the tree stump, determined to make the team. Now he was here and he was determined to play in the match in a few weeks just to show everybody up, including those on Gryffindor team who wanted nothing to do with him. He felt a pang remembering that Ginny was on the team, and that she also wanted nothing to do with him. She wouldn't even look at him these days.

"It is time to begin," Snape said loudly after a short blast of the black whistle that hung around his neck. The team stopped talking and gathered in a circle in front of their coach. Some were determined not to look at Harry, and others determined to scare him away with their glares. Harry ignored them however, and tried to focus on what Snape was telling them.

"I want Ethan, Grace, and Blake doing Billing's drills today and I want Angel and Faith trying to steal the ball while they're drilling. Devon, watch the top goal post today. You were a little slow stopping goals through it last week, but don't ignore the side posts either.

"Decklan, you'll be searching for the Snitch and practicing avoidance tactics while Nathaniel and Harry practice Beater tactics on the team. Questions?"

There were nine headshakes and Severus waved them into the air. What fun, Harry thought. I get to use Decklan as target practice. He caught a look from Snape that said Snape knew what he was thinking, but Harry noted no look of concern or reprimand for his plans, so he leapt on his broom and took off, reveling in the familiar feeling of wind in his hair.

Beater bat in hand Harry watched for Snape to release the two Bludgers and zipped off after one that flew into the air. He was going to take every chance to smash it Decklan's way. Unfortunately for Harry, he needed to catch the Bludger before he could do anything with it, and this particular Bludger acted more like a Snitch than anything else, winding it's way through players and dodging him at every turn.

Harry wasn't a Seeker for nothing he decided, and took chase, employing the old maneuvers he'd learned while playing for Gryffindor to pick up speed and wind his way in and out of the other players. Finally he caught up with the blasted thing and took aim, aware that Decklan was about fifty feet directly above him.

The Bludger flew straight up into the air, and Harry watched with satisfaction as Decklan was forced to swerve out of the way to miss being hit in the face with it. He glared down at Harry, but Harry was already on his way after the Bludger again, and this time had caught up with it after only a minute, and had aimed it at Decklan again, hitting him in the left arm just as he reached out for the Snitch.

Harry waited for a blast from the whistle from below, but it didn't come, so he took chase after the Bludger again, and twice more forced Decklan to swerve or dive just in time to avoid getting smashed with it. Just as he grinned at seeing Decklan dive towards the ground, Harry was taken by surprise as the second Bludger hit him straight in the back of the head, knocking him sideways and causing a ringing in his ears. He turned to see Nathaniel looking shocked, yet angry, bat in hand, and then forced his broom to the ground before he fell off of it. This time he did hear the whistle, and he landed with a dull thud in the snow, staggering off his broom. He'd been hit with a Bludger more times than he could count, including sustaining four broken bones, but he'd never been hit square in the head with one.

"Potter, are you injured?"

Harry blinked hard, trying to keep his vision from swimming so he could see Snape standing in front of him, and nodded. "Yes sir." His searching eyes found Nathaniel a few feet to the left of Snape, and he glared hard at him.

"Practicing Beater tactics is more about aiming at opposing players," Severus said, causing Harry to frown. "You are also required to practice aiming by passing the ball between yourself and the other Beater, as well as defending your own players from impending injury from opposing Beater attack."

"Yes sir," Harry said.

"Good." Snape blew the whistle and they rose back into the air, although Harry rather felt like he was going to be sick and his vision was still swimming. Perhaps he shouldn't have lied and just gone to the Hospital Wing. But what good would that have done? It would have shown them all he was a wimp who couldn't handle the game. No, that wouldn't do at all.

Squinting hard through his glasses, Harry found the second year Slytherin across the clearing waiting with his bat, and nodded. Nathaniel gave a nod back and chased after one of the Bludgers before aiming it at Harry. Harry swung wildly and was lucky to hit it back to Nathaniel. They went back and forth several times before Nathaniel chased after the other Bludger in order to keep it from hitting Grace. He made it just in time and aimed it at Blake instead.

Two hours later, Harry was grateful to hear Snape's whistle signaling the end of practice. His head throbbed horribly and he still felt like he was going to lose his lunch, although he hadn't eaten lunch yet.

The other players trudged through the two foot deep snow towards Snape so he could give them final directions about picking up equipment and taking it back to the storage room, but Harry stood where he was, feeling unsteady on his legs.

Severus noticed that Harry was not there with the team just in time to look up and see him tip sideways, before disappearing into the soft snow on the ground. Nothing could ever be easy with that boy.

* * *

His trip to the Hospital Wing only served to remind Harry how things had changed in his life. Once upon a time if he had been knocked out cold in Quidditch practice, he would have woken up to his team and friends surrounding him and congratulating him on another magnificent battle wound. Now he woke up to a quiet, empty Hospital Wing.

Well, not quite empty. There was someone with long red hair sitting on another bed with her back to him.

"Ginny?"

He sat up as she turned to him, holding her arm. He could see that she'd been crying.

"What happened?" He asked, but she only sniffled and turned away again.

Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight and Harry hated to see her sitting there like that. She was the only one he was sorry he'd wronged and chased away like he had. Climbing out of his bed on unsteady legs, his head throbbed horribly, but he still made his way over to her and sat down beside her.

"Ginny, what happened?" Her arm was black and blue and he could tell from the bump in it near her wrist that it was broken.

"Nothing," she said trying to stifle a sob of pain. "Nothing at all."

Harry frowned and looked closer at the bruises. He didn't know what madam Pomfrey would think, but it definitely looked like finger prints.

"Who did that?"

She turned and glared at him and said with angry tears in her eyes, "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been such a jerk!" Crying with full force now she stood up and went to another bed a few beds down just as Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her office.

"Oh dear, what's happened to you?" she asked Ginny, who still had tears running down from her eyes. She saw the hand prints and then looked up to give a glare at Harry who was out of his bed.

"It wasn't me!" Harry shouted. "I'd never do that!"

"There's a lot of things I thought you'd never do Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said before turning her attention back to Ginny.

Angry, Harry stood up and made his way back to his bed, but not before his legs gave out and he hit the floor hard just near his bed. He groaned, but no help came to him. Just as he heard Ginny say quietly, "It wasn't him. It was Avery," he hefted himself up off the floor and back into his bed. Two things went through his mind at that moment. The first was that Madam Pomfrey had jumped on the McGonagall/Dursley bandwagon, and no longer gave a damn about him. The second was that he was going to kill Avery McGregor, the seventh year Ravenclaw Ginny had been dating recently. He made eye contact with Ginny as Madam Pomfrey rushed back to her office to get some potions, and then passed out again as the pounding in his head overtook him, falling sideways on the bed.

* * *

Ginny's word wasn't enough to prove that Avery had broken her wrist, and by Monday, when Harry had gotten out of the Hospital Wing from his concussion, Avery was sitting smug at Ravenclaw table. Harry glared heavily at him from across the hall, and knew that he wasn't the only one. Ron was looking murderous as well. There was a difference between him and Ron though, and that was that Harry had already sullied his name, whatever that meant. Ron was still too good for what Harry was going to do to Avery.

For the next two days Harry stalked Avery. He skipped every class just to follow Avery and learn his schedule. He didn't eat in favor of watching Avery across the hall. He couldn't even sleep because he was so angry about what had happened to Ginny and that the pratt wouldn't even be expelled or punished at all for what he'd done.

Finally on Wednesday night Harry found his opportunity to seek vengeance, Snape's words about not taking vengeance despite provocation nowhere to be found in his mind. Avery left the Great Hall after dinner by himself. It was still early and most of the students were still eating. Harry left the table, fists clenched and eyes straight ahead. Nine sets of eyes followed him from the hall... those of his team and Snape, though nobody who saw Harry with the look he wore would have any doubt about the fact that Harry was about to earn some sort of severe punishment.

Harry followed Avery up through the castle towards Ravenclaw tower, unaware that a few floors down Devon and Ethan followed and that close behind them was Snape.

Just as Avery made the portrait that would let him into Ravenclaw, Harry stepped out from the shadows.

"Think you're a big man, hurting her like that?"

Avery turned and scoffed. "Shove off Potter."

Harry stalked up to him and stared up into the older boy's eyes. Avery was a good three inches taller than him and outweighed him by nearly eighty pounds, most of it muscle.

"I asked you a question," Harry said in a deadly tone.

Laughing with a deep laugh, Avery shook his head. "And what're yeh going to do about it Potter? Yeh're not as bad as yeh like everybody to think. And I'm not going to admit to anything. So go on yeh little shite. What're yeh goin' the do about it?" He laughed hard, but in the next second Harry said, "This," and punched him square in the nose, breaking it and forcing the bigger teen down to the ground.

"And this!" Harry kneed him in the face and then kicked him in the crotch.

"And this!" He continued his tirade until Avery's face was covered in blood and he was on the floor crying and trying to shield himself.

Two pairs of hands grabbed Harry's arms to keep him off the other boy, but Harry was too incensed to know that it was Decklan and Ethan.

"Admit it!" Harry shouted angrily, continuing to kick him and fight his way back towards him despite his team mate's attempt to keep him off. "Admit what you did to her! Admit that you broke her arm!"

"I did it! I did it! Stop hitting me!" Avery cried out in a full sob now. Harry gave him one more good kick before a third pair of strong hands grabbed him from behind and dragged him backwards.

Breathing heavily Harry looked up into Snape's eyes and then looked away, ashamed at what he had done, but satisfied that there would be justice for Ginny, if in no other way than that Harry had punished him the way he had punished her.

"Hold him," he heard Snape instruct, and then Decklan used his arm across Harry's shoulders to pin Harry against the wall. Harry shook and tried to control his breath as he looked towards the ground and determined himself not to look at Decklan. In the background he was aware that Snape was questioning Avery and his involvement with Ginny's injuries and that Avery was confessing and begging for medical attention.

Other professors arrived shortly because Snape had sent Ethan to fetch them and Madam Pomfrey, and Harry continued to allow himself to be pinned as he felt his shame for becoming as bad as the others who had treated him as horribly as he had just done to Avery. He didn't know that Decklan studied him carefully and saw the look of shame.

"Potter, we will have words." Decklan let Harry up from the wall quietly, but in the next second Snape had grabbed the back of Harry's shirt roughly and was dragging him down the hall and away from the commotion that he had caused.

"That was nothing short of despicable," Snape said angrily into Harry's ear as he led him away. He said similar things all the way down through the castle but Harry continued to stare at the floor. People gaped at him as he was half dragged half marched through the Entrance Hall knuckles and shoes covered in blood, including Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, but he didn't notice. All he heard was silence and the words, ‘You'll be no better than your father.' They were words aunt Marge had said to him his whole life, and all Harry could think was that the only father figure he had was Uncle Vernon, and that she was right. He was no better.

Thrown roughly into Snape's visitor chair Harry put his head in his hands and began to cry. Severus simply stared at him for long moments.

"You are beyond my help Mr. Potter." He sighed as Harry didn't seem to hear him and continued to cry. "Violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts, and I cannot tolerate it. You are off the team. Even without what you have just done, you have done nothing to give your team mates any indication that you belong with them."

Harry looked up, eyes red, and said quietly, "It doesn't matter that they hate me sir. I don't belong on your team." He stood up and walked to the door. Back to his Professor, the last to finally give up on him, Harry said, "I hate myself," and was gone, not back into Gryffindor tower, but off into the icy night, where he hoped to be alone and pass out in his shame, or else disappear for good.

Severus paced. These students would be the death of him.

"What do you expect me to do Mr. Ingram?" He looked down his nose at Decklan, who was sitting in his visitor's chair looking hopeful after just informing him he wanted Harry back on his team.

"Put him back on sir."

"He has to be punished. There is a zero tolerance policy for violence at Hogwarts. You know that."

"But sir... you know why he did it."

Severus stopped his pacing again and narrowed his eyes at Decklan. Yes, he did know why. The whole school knew why now that Avery's parents had pulled him out of school. They had said it was because Avery had been shamed, but Severus knew Avery's parents and knew that they were ashamed both of what their son had done and what Harry had done to him. They couldn't stand any dishonor to be brought upon their family.

He sighed. "Just last week you were complaining and ranting about him, from that very chair. Now you sit there and ask for him back?"

Decklan stood up. "Sir, I want the kind of person on our team who will stand up for what he believes is right, even at his own expense. Did you see his face? Did you see how ashamed he was? I don't think he wanted to do that sir."

"And yet he did."

Decklan raised his brows. "He's a jerk, ok. I know that. The team knows that. But Ethan saw what happened too and he agrees. And besides, nobody's yet been able to smash me with a Bludger four times in one practice and then fly around with a serious concussion and keep hitting Bludgers accurately. I don't know why they had him as a Seeker when he's worth a first string Beater. He's got determination... look how he sat there in the snow just waiting all that time."

Rubbing his throbbing temple now, Severus glanced at Decklan's hopeful face again and then said, "He's suspended from the next three practices and he won't be playing in the match against Hogsmeade. You can be in charge of training Faith or Angel to fill in for him for the match."

Decklan grinned a crooked grin that perhaps suggested that Snape had gone soft. "Don't let me regret this decision," he warned.

With a small laugh on his way out Decklan said, "You already do sir, so it can only get better from here."

Severus snorted after Decklan had closed the door. There had been so many times in his life when he believed it could only get better, only to find that it could get so much worse. For Harry's sake he hoped that it would get better. He'd never seen him so broken as when he admitted in his office the day before that he hated himself. He hoped Harry wouldn't go any further down than that.

* * *

Harry pushed his potatoes and eggs around his plate with one hand, head in the other, not hungry at all. He glanced to his right to see Ron, Hermione, and Ginny amongst others looking at him from down the table and turned back to his own plate quickly. They weren't giving him dirty looks... it was more like worry mixed with curiosity. It was strange and he didn't like it.

While Harry wanted to rise and move off to find some quiet place, he knew the only place he was allowed between classes was the Great Hall at meal times, detention, and his dormitory. After being stuck in his dorm room for nearly two weeks now, he'd rather take the stares and sit at Gryffindor table, even if he wasn't going to eat anything. Detention was also a welcome reprieve from the dorm, but he was serving two detentions a day now, and he hated the looks he got from Snape as well. Clearly the man was disappointed, and didn't know what to do with him any more than Harry knew what to do with himself.

Giving up on his food completely, Harry dropped the fork and freed up his other hand to grip his hair and shield his face from anyone who might see. The entire school knew what he had done now, and it had only heightened the fear of him that the younger students and most of the girls seemed to have. He had probably scared Ginny even more as well, and the last thing he wanted was to force himself even further from her, if that was even possible.

"Mr. Potter, I require you for your last detention." Harry looked up at Professor Snape with a blank face as he let his hands fall back to the table, and then rose to follow the man from the sea of onlookers. His last detention. He deserved more, and he was sure the school would agree with him.

Down in the dungeons Harry was set to scrubbing corridor floors until nearly noon, and then was summoned into Snape's office.

"Have a seat Potter."

He did as he was told, and remained quiet, looking at the floor.

"It seems that there is someone on your side."

Curious, Harry looked up.

"Yes, you heard me right. You have been reinstated as part of the second string team."

"Why?"

"The team Captain... convinced me that you are both needed and wanted."

Frowning deeply, Harry wondered if perhaps the Captaincy had changed since he'd been kicked off the team, but then remembered that none of the other players liked him either.

"Are you sure sir?" He was definitely confused.

"Quite. While the team has seen determination and endurance from you, Decklan clearly believes the team is in need of players who stand up for what they believe to be right, although," here he paused and gave Harry a pointed look, "standing up for what you believe is right is to be done in a dignified way from this point forward Mr. Potter, do I make myself clear? There will be no second chances if there is ever a repeat of what happened between you and Mr. Avery again."

"Yes sir." So it had come back around to that again. Harry looked away, and Severus could see clearly what Decklan had seen and what he himself had seen two weeks before: shame.

Giving Harry a moment to himself, Severus finally said, "The game against Hogsmeade was yesterday. We lost. For the rest of the year we will be practicing on Saturday and Sunday. What I told you before still stands. If you receive more than one detention a week you will miss practice that week and will not play in any games in the near future."

"Yes sir."

Severus sighed. "Good. Get your things and meet us in the wooded pitch. Practice is in thirty minutes."

Harry rose and made for the door, but before he could get out of it, Professor Snape cleared his throat and said, "Oh, and Potter." Harry turned. "I suggest you work on defending the team's Seeker rather than beat him up one Bludger at a time, seeing as how he fought to keep you on the team. It would be a shame to build one of the only bridges you have left."

Nodding, Harry left the office, deep in thought. Really the only bridge that he considered having was the one he had with Snape and it was crumbly at best. He doubted Snape even knew it was there at all. As for the bridge with Decklan, he was sure the Seeker had other motives, possibly to embarrass or get back at him in some way. That was how the world seemed to work when Harry was involved in any case.

Half an hour later Harry made his way down through three feet of snow and into the woods where the second stringers waited for him. If Harry had been feeling undone in the last two weeks about what he'd done, it was nothing to how he felt throughout the practice (in fact only his second practice with the team).

Nobody on the team smiled at him, but they weren't frowning or avoiding him either. It was a strange feeing and reminded him of the way he felt when his former friends sat and looked at him at meal times each day, or in classes.

The practice went easily with himself and Nathan passing Bludgers back and forth between their bats, and Harry saving Decklan from being smashed in the face by one at the last second as a thank you for what he'd done. Decklan even said thanks as he zipped off in search of the Snitch again. Harry didn't like it. He wasn't sure he wanted to be so easily accepted onto the team.

After practice Harry lingered in the quiet woods, snow gently drifting down through the trees and into his hair, adding to the snow that already lay cold and soft on the ground. He was lonely without his friends. It had in fact been a very lonely year, Christmas especially. But there was a reason that he didn't have friends anymore. Many, many reasons. He liked to think sometimes that he hadn't chased them off intentionally, that he had just been taking control of his own life in his own way and they didn't like the new him. But if he were going to be completely honest with himself, which he was at times like these, he had distanced himself because he could no longer stand to be hurt and abandoned, and having new friends just meant he had new people to be hurt by. No, that wasn't something he wanted at all.

And so it was that over the next few weeks, and into March, Severus watched Harry withdraw from the team mates that seemed determined to draw him into their ranks and strike up tentative friendships with him. Harry wore a solemn face most of the time, and whilst he continued to get into trouble, there was not the heart or tenacity that he once had whilst doing things to earn his detentions. Severus was perplexed, and was not the only one as he soon found out, when the Headmaster summoned him to his office one Sunday evening.

There was something in Harry's throat that felt distinctly like panic. One minute he was in the Hospital Wing getting his eyes checked because his glasses didn't seem to be working properly anymore, and the next thing he knew he had been summoned to the Headmaster's office and told he would be going home for Easter Holiday.

Despite his varied protests (and the fact that he now had detention that night for something he'd said that he'd rather not repeat again), he would indeed be going back to the Dursley's for an entire week.

"My apologies dear boy," Dumbledore had said, "but you spent Christmas at the castle and after all that has happened I and the other staff feel that it would perhaps do you some good to see your family again and spend some time with them."

Even now, twenty minutes later as Harry marched down to detention he was still breathing hard. This wasn't right, nor was it fair. He didn't even know if they'd be there when he got there or if they had up and gone just to get away from him for good. They had threatened it after all, hadn't they?

Working hard not to do something stupid because he'd already been assigned his one detention for the week and didn't need another, Harry fought off the urge to kick every single thing he passed by. When the Headmaster had said the ‘other staff' felt it would do him some good, he was sure that translated to: you've stressed everyone out so bad that they need a break from you. McGonagall had in fact said she hated him. He was sure she had lobbied for him to go home so the castle could have a week of peace and quiet. Apparently it wasn't enough that he'd gone from five detentions a week to one.

When questioned on why he'd received detention, Harry told Snape that he'd called the Headmaster a name he was advised not to repeat, and Snape gave him a stern look.

"Well what did he expect forcing me to go home like that?! Maybe I want to stay here for the break!"

Severus handed him a mop and bucket and Harry grumbled as he began mopping Snape's office floor. He was sure the Dungeons had the cleanest floors the school had seen in two hundred years.

"Regardless, it was inappropriate. Quidditch practice has been canceled for the break in any case so you do not have to worry about missing it. We're doing an extra practice Wednesday afternoon after classes and Friday evening to make up for the ones you'll miss Saturday and Sunday."

Harry shot him an irritated look as he mopped in the corner near some wood filing cabinets. He thought this was about Quidditch? What was he, a Chudley Cannons fan? Not everything revolved around Quidditch! Well... at least this didn't. Even as Harry finished up the office and mopped his way out into the hallway he could feel the panic and anxiety creeping up on him again. He thought he'd had an extra few months before he had to worry about going back, or rather, where to go if he wasn't going to go back.

For the next few days Harry struggled through the pages of homework he was continuing to do without turning them in, and fell so deep into his anxiety at times that he forgot completely that his friends from his previous life had now taken to looking at him now and again.

Something else had been going on that Harry barely noticed as well: Decklan and Ethan had been stopping him from getting into trouble. Tuesday Harry had been sitting just outside the library on a bench mindlessly ripping pages out of his Potions book as he tried to finish his homework when Decklan came up and grabbed his hand, bringing him out of his trance. "I wouldn't," he cautioned. "Madam Pince is coming this way because someone told on you." Harry had just grumbled a hurried thanks and moved off to find a more secluded place to sit.

Twice on Wednesday Ethan knocked hard into him just as he was about to curse or put his foot in his mouth in front of a professor, and then on Thursday just before Quidditch practice was scheduled, Decklan dragged him away to go to practice just as Harry had begun to turn red at something one of Avery's old friends had said about Ginny.

"Come on then," Decklan urged. "Professor Snape will be angry if you're late because you're busy ripping somebody's head off."

"Yeah," was all Harry had managed to say, feeling in a daze. He could swear he could feel his blood pressure rising and he wanted to rip his hair out. Nothing was right. He just couldn't go back. Not again. Not ever.

By Friday, when a trip out of Hogsmeade on the train towards London was imminent, and Harry had thought of no viable way to escape, he knew he was at the breaking point.

Somehow Harry made it all the way through practice without having the panic attack that he knew was coming, although he wasn't sure how. He had missed nearly every Bludger that had been sent his way, and his mind was fuzzy through the entire two hours out in the chill breeze.

Feet firmly on the ground, Harry made his way into the shack that served as changing rooms. Most of the other players hadn't brought a change of clothes down today, including Harry, but he needed an excuse to be alone, so he grabbed the school brooms along with his own and made his way inside. Decklan followed but went into the other room to change. When he was out of sight, Harry leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. All he could think was, ‘what am I going to do?'

Without warning memories of the past summer came flooding back to him, and he felt panic grip his chest and refuse to let go. Harry's body was in the locker room, but his mind was on the side of the road in an unfamiliar place in Northern England watching cars drive by. The Dursleys had taken him on vacation, and as soon as they'd pulled into the parking lot of the motel, they'd told Harry to get out and get them some food. They'd only given him a few pounds, but Uncle Vernon had insisted that there was a small fast food restaurant that he loved that was very cheap just around the corner. Harry had looked for almost an hour, but could find no place like his uncle had described, and when he'd gotten back to the motel, they were gone. The clerk said that no one matching their description had checked in. What was worse was that his uncle had insisted his wand stay at home in his trunk, locked in the closet under the stairs. With three pounds to his name, no wand, and shame in his heart that he had been totally abandoned, Harry hadn't the courage to summon the knight bus or try to contact anyone in the wizarding world... even if he knew how.

The sound of brooms clattering on the floor brought Harry back to the present, where he found himself on his knees in the darkened shack, brooms scattered around him. He was breathing hard and his head was pounding like his heart.

The noise caused by Harry and the brooms brought Decklan out of the other room, where he found Harry on his hands and knees shaking.

"Hey, hey what's wrong?" Decklan fell to his knees beside him, and Harry reached a hand up to cover his eyes.

"Harry, what happened?"

Shaking his head, Harry still couldn't say anything because his throat felt too tight to speak without letting out a sob.

"I'm- I'm going to go get Professor Snape. Just hold on." Decklan moved to get off the floor, unsure what was wrong with Harry, but Harry's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Please- don't." His voice was harsh.

"What? Why? Tell me what's wrong."

Trying to calm his breathing, Harry pushed himself up and sat back on his knees. He hadn't cried but the temptation hadn't passed either.

"I uh... they're making me go home for the break."

Decklan frowned. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Harry looked him square in the eyes, and his impression was enough to make Decklan flinch. It was full of fear and certainty.

"Is it that bad?"

Harry nodded and then sat all the way on his hind end against the wall.

"Well... wouldn't it be better to tell Professor Snape? Then you wouldn't have to go back, right?"

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Harry said dryly, "It doesn't matter what I say. They still say I have to go back. I always have to go back."

Decklan thought hard for a few minutes as Harry continued to gain composure of himself, and when Decklan finally spoke, Harry was still shaky but seemed a far sight better than when Decklan had first run in.

"I'm going to tell Professor Snape. If it's really that bad then he should know."

Meeting his eyes again, Harry said, "No. Don't say a word. They'll think I'm just making it up to cause trouble. I don't-" he trailed off. He had caused a lot of trouble, but this one was not a lie, and in any case, he couldn't stand for them to know about his home life. Couldn't stand the shame of being known as the poor little neglected and abused Harry Potter.

"But-"

"Please?"

Giving him a hard stare, Decklan made up his mind.

"Fine. I won't tell. For now."

"It's only a week," he told Decklan, although he was also trying to reassure himself. Only one week. I can make it through that, can't I?

"One week," said Decklan. He pushed himself up and left the room, though he didn't look happy about the promise he'd made. Harry had a feeling Decklan was a man of his word however, and knew he had at least a week before Decklan told anybody. Hopefully by then he'd be back to the castle in one piece, and who would believe Decklan because how could he know about Harry's life? Harry would just deny it, and so would the Dursleys. Yes, that was a plan. Deny it all.

* * *

"Oh, there you are Severus. I was just looking for you. Oh dear, what's happened to your hand?"

Severus held up his hand to show the mediwitch the minor chemical burn he'd incurred that morning while brewing. He just couldn't get his mind on the potion he'd been making after seeing how distracted his team Captain had been after practice Friday. It had been four days, and Decklan still appeared to be as deep in thought and dazed as Potter usually was these days.

"Just a minor burn, and I am out of salve."

"Well sit down there and it will be healed in a jiffy." She summoned a tin from her office and began to rub it onto the back of his hand.

"You were saying?" Severus prompted as she finished up.

"Hm? Oh yes. Mr. Potter's glasses have just come in. He's been wearing a bad prescription all year and I just tested him last week. They've finally come in and I thought I might ask you to deliver them to him."

Severus gave her a look and she scoffed. "Yes Severus, I know you're not an owl, but you've been handling him all year." She didn't have legilimency powers, but it was something Severus had insisted several times in staff meetings when the Headmaster had asked him to deliver something or other to somebody... I am not an owl. Minerva had hooted at him one day and since then the staff would not let it drop.

"He has gone all year with a bad prescription you say?"

"Yes, can you imagine?"

"Then why can it not wait three more days until he returns on the train?"

Poppy crossed her arms now, glasses in one hand, and said, "Does his health mean so little to you? It's dangerous to walk around with poor eye sight! I'm ashamed that you would even-"

Severus held his hand up to forestall the lecture and held out his hand for the glasses.

"Thank you for the salve he said," and walked out before he said something rude that he might regret. Emphasis on the ‘might'. It was rare that he regretted anything, but when he did, it was something good to be regretful about.

Twenty minutes later, Severus was at the edge of the Hogwarts wards and ready to apparate, glasses tucked safely in his pants pocket. He'd had to make a trip back to his quarters to rid himself of the robe, because he didn't want any rude looks or questions about the way he looked as he ventured out into the Muggle world. It would be a quick trip, only as long as it took to knock on Potter's door and deliver the glasses, but still, better safe than hexing some Muggle and ending up in front of the Wizengamot.

In five seconds, Severus was strolling down the distinctly Muggle street in the suburbs in the waning evening light. He could see various families through living room windows just sitting down to dinner, and decided to make the delivery as fast as possible so that he too could get some dinner.

As Severus approached four Privet Drive, he was just considering going to a Muggle restaurant when the door to Potter's house was thrown open, and Potter was flung out of it and down the stairs by a bulky figure still standing in the doorway.

"Disgusting! You have no right to eat at our table! We thought we'd made it clear when we left you on vacation that you weren't wanted here, and you dare come back! We'll you'll see boy. The next time you come back, we'll be gone! We'll move to another country if we have to!" The seething man slammed the door, leaving Harry on the ground nursing several injuries. Severus was too much in shock (which was unusual) to move forward to help, and also curious as to what the child would do next.

Back to Severus, Harry pushed himself up as best he could, but his injured ankle gave way and he went back down to the ground. After another attempt he managed to half crawl half hop across the driveway and around the side of the house, where he knelt down and lifted his hand up to the gash over his right eye, only to retract it in pain.

Acting as if he'd done this a thousand times already, he calmly turned on the hose faucet and gingerly washed the dirt off his face and the several other scratches he had up his arms and through the hole in his ripped shirt. When he was done he pulled himself up on one leg and peered in through the window at the family calmly having dinner at the dinner table as if nothing had happened. They ate as if there had never even been another boy in their house.

Severus could see from Harry's slumped shoulders and the way he shook that he was on the verge of tears, and it occurred to him then that perhaps there was good cause after all for the teen's behavior at school. Regardless of anything the boy may have done just before Severus had arrived, there was no cause for this kind of treatment.

Harry turned then as the sky darkened and saw his Professor standing there on the sidewalk, glasses held limply in one hand. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Harry limped over to him, eyes down and shoulders shaking.

"Can I please go home now sir?" He lifted his eyes just long enough for Severus to see the unbidden tears pooled there, and then dropped them again and ran his arm across his face.

Noting the days old bruises, Severus stared down into the eyes of the boy he had never properly seen before, and said, "Yes Potter. Let's get you home." He turned to walk down the street to Arabella's house, where he knew they could apparate safely, but Harry hadn't moved, and he turned to find the boy staring at the sidewalk and struggling to gain control over his emotions as the streetlights finally flickered on.

Not knowing where the desire had come from, Severus put his arm around Harry's shaking shoulders and was surprised when the teen leaned into him and gave a sob, one hand over his eyes trying to keep the tears from spilling out. Severus put the other arm around him and allowed Harry the comfort he needed for a moment more before he said, "Come along Harry." Breaking free of his Professor's gentle hug, Harry allowed himself to be steered down the street in the darkness.

"Are you all right Mr. Potter?" Severus reached down and lifted him from under the arm.

"Fine," Harry said in barely better than a strained voice. It was obvious he was in pain. "Just weak."

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" After the scene he'd witnessed, Severus wondered if Harry had eaten at all that day. He had no idea that it had in fact been much longer than just one day.

"Hogwarts," Harry said, struggling to stay upright.

Severus simply stared at him in surprise. When Harry finally felt steady with Severus still gripping his arm, he looked up and was surprised to find his Professor looking at him.

"The last time you ate was when you left Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," Harry said, frowning at him. "So what? I can go longer." There was that defiance and anger again Severus thought. Was this what the boy's change in demeanor had been about this year?

"You need to eat. I can't have you passing out on the way up to the castle." Severus quickly steered him into the Hogshead, which he knew would likely be void of many customers who would notice the bruises on Harry's face, or any reporters, and ordered Harry a meal. With two wary eyes, Severus watched the child scarf down an entire steak, a pile of potatoes, a bowl of green beans, and a tall glass of milk without shame.

"It will never cease to amaze me the amount of food a sixteen year old boy can eat in under five minutes."

Harry glared up at him, despite the fact that the man had just saved him from having to sleep outside for the night, and that he had fed him a kingly meal. He had to force down the urge to snark out a question about how many times the professor had seen a half starved boy scarf down food, especially when he was afraid it would be taken away again.

He didn't have to say it though, because the look in his eyes was enough, and Severus waved his hand in apology. "My apologies Mr. Potter, for not thinking before I spoke."

Harry's face relaxed a little, and Severus paid for the food before helping Harry up and back out onto the dark, chilly street.

"We'll go in the side entrance straight into the dungeons," he informed Harry as they neared the castle almost forty minutes later. It was slow going with Harry's ankle, and Severus was supporting most of the boy's weight at this point.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully. He didn't want people to see him like this, though he could always pawn it off that he had just gotten into another really big fight.

In through a side passage that Harry hadn't known existed because it was an old stone door covered in vines, and up through the dungeons, Harry was relieved to be allowed to sit in the visitor's chair in Snape's office.

"We cannot floo directly into the Hospital Wing. We will have to floo into a nearby guest room and walk the rest of the way."

"Sir?"

"The Hospital Wing has been permanently cut off from the Hogwarts floo network. In most cases using the floo will only aggravate a magical injury, so that choice of mode of transportation has been removed completely."

"Oh."

"When you are ready Potter."

Harry took a deep breath and then nodded. Severus moved around his desk and lifted Harry out of the chair again, allowing him to put his arm up around his neck so he could be supported to the floo and held upright as they spun past dozens of rooms and offices.

They exited out of the fireplace into a dark, dusty room and Professor Snape lead him out of the office and into a dark corridor. It wasn't until they were down two more corridors that Harry finally recognized that they were indeed very near the Hospital Wing. But near wasn't good enough, because as they rounded the last corner, a lone figure stopped down the corridor at the sight of them.

"Harry?"

Harry's head snapped up. It was Ginny and she looked worried. Harry hadn't seen himself in a mirror recently but he knew he had a good shiner from that morning and that there was a nasty cut above his left eye. That with the sight of Snape supporting him down the hall on an injured leg and the bruises on his arms was probably enough to make anybody wonder.

"The door if you please Miss Weasley," Snape intoned.

Ginny jumped into action and opened the Hospital Wing door to let them pass through, but Snape closed it again once they were inside, leaving her in the corridor. Harry didn't want to shut her out, in fact he wanted her there with him, but he was grateful at the same time. Decklan knew of his situation sort of, and Snape for sure. He could still deny everything. Couldn't he?

"Poppy!"

Harry was deposited gently onto the nearest bed and Madam Pomfrey came hurrying out of her office.

"What on earth? I sent you for glasses Severus, what has happened?"

Snape just looked down to Harry though, who turned away as Madam Pomfrey began to run a diagnostic spell on him.

"I believe it is probable that he has a broken ankle, and you should also check for a concussion. He hit his head fairly hard on the cement."

Seeing that her colleague wasn't answering her, and knowing that it was like prying teeth the Muggle way to get the man to talk if he had chosen not to, Poppy turned her attention again to Harry.

"What happened Mr. Potter?"

Harry crossed his arms and said, "I don't want to talk about it," as he continued to look the other way. Severus had to suppress the urge to snort despite the seriousness of the situation. An hour ago the boy was wiping tears from his eyes and seeking comfort from the last person on earth that was likely to give it, and now he sat with his nose turned up with an ornery attitude.

Poppy put her hands on her hips with a firm frown on her face. "Well somebody had better want to talk about it or I'll have the headmaster in here faster than you can say lemon drop!

Harry gave a fearful look up at Snape for only a moment, but Snape was choosing to look in another direction at that moment and Harry turned away. Deny it, he repeated to himself. No one would believe it if the truth came out anyway.

* * *

Severus was aware that Harry was keeping his head down and trying not to bother anybody over the next few weeks. He'd failed to earn any detentions, and Severus found it curious that after what was likely a horrible summer the boy had come back moody and unpredictable, and after a one week trip home he had turned into what could be described as ‘near enough' the old Harry Potter, minus his former friends. What had changed? The only variable now was that somebody knew about his home life... Severus to be exact. Was it possible the boy was trying to keep it a secret despite the fact that he would have need to return home again if nobody found out?

Sighing as he looked over what was an impeccable Potions essay the boy had turned in that morning (one of the first assignments he'd gotten back from Harry that year), Severus rubbed his temple. He'd had no choice but to tell the Headmaster exactly what he'd witnessed. How else could he explain bringing Harry back three days early and in the condition he had been in? In any case he was a mandatory reporter according to Wizengamot Legal Code and would not deny it even if he could. Harry simply could not go back to that house. If what Vernon Dursley had said was true, Harry would have no place to go back to either way.

Severus soon found out that he was not the only one with Harry on his mind. His Seeker in fact, appeared to know something was amiss as well.

"Sir?"

Decklan had knocked on his open office door, and Severus bade him to come in.

"Yes?"

"I need to talk to you about something important."

Severus motioned for him to have a seat, and Decklan took it. He looked as if he had been steeling himself up for this since the break a few weeks beforehand.

"Yes?" Severus prompted again. Having little patience had always been one of his downfalls, as other staff sometimes liked to remind him.

"Sir, I think somebody should check out Harry Potter's family." Severus leaned back in his chair. You couldn't get more direct than that, he thought, considering what he now knew about Potter himself. It was clear that Decklan knew something as well. So far he had only informed Albus, and Albus had promised not to spread it around to the other staff just yet, and he wondered if Decklan would tell anyone else whatever it was that he knew.

"You have cause for concern?"

"I- I found Harry collapsed on the floor of the locker room the day before Easter Holiday, after Quidditch practice. He was shaking and a real mess."

"And?"

"And well, he said something about not wanting to go home because of his family. He didn't want me to tell though."

"Did he say why?"

The frown on Decklan's face told Severus that whatever it was wasn't sitting well with him. As a general rule Decklan was straight forward with everybody about what he thought, sometimes to the point where he lost a friend over it now and again. The fact that he had held back three weeks told Severus that he'd been in serious conflict over whether or not to keep his promise or help his team mate.

"He said nobody would believe him and they'd just think he was trying to cause trouble sir. I'd appreciate it if you could just look into it. I don't think its right to leave him in a place where they're not treating him right. That'd make me a terrible person for not trying to get him out of there."

Severus folded his hands in front of himself on the desk and leaned forward. "Rest assured that it has already been looked into Mr. Ingram. Mr. Potter returned early from the break, and he will not be going back."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Sitting back in the visitor's chair, Decklan looked relieved. "Good sir."

"You're pleased with the outcome?"

Decklan nodded and Severus waved his hand. "Good, then please shut the door on my way out so that I can finish my grading."

Rising and moving for the door, Decklan was stopped by, "You are a fine young man Mr. Ingram. Thank you for standing up for what you believe is right, even at your own expense."

Decklan frowned, but then realized that it was at his own expense. He'd promised to keep it a secret and had thus broken his word and his trustworthiness. "Thank you sir." As he shut the door and walked down the corridor, he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about what he'd done however. At least Harry would be safe now. He knew Professor Snape would make sure of it.

* * *

Harry knocked on the solid wood door and was bade to come in.

As the door opened to her office, Minerva looked over her thin glasses to find Harry Potter standing in the door frame, a piece of parchment in his hands.

"Is there something I can do for you Mr. Potter?"

Harry took a tentative step forward and noted that Ron was in the room at a student desk doing lines. Ron looked up but didn't acknowledge Harry, just watched.

"Mr. Potter?"

Her prompting brought Harry's attention away from Ron, and he stepped up to give her his assignment. It wasn't due until tomorrow, but he'd had some trouble with it and wanted to hand it in early so she could look over it. He was too embarrassed about his earlier behavior that year to ask Hermione.

"What is this?" She asked, taking the parchment he held out.

"My assignment for tomorrow maam. I was having some trouble with it."

She glanced over it briefly, barely giving it a look, and then looked back up at Harry.

"Mr. Potter, why are you giving this to me now?"

He bit his lip. "I was having some trouble with it. I wondered... if you could look it over so I could fix it for tomorrow." He had butterflies in his stomach for some reason and wondered why he was feeling so nervous about just asking for some help.

Taking her glasses off and setting them on her desk, she handed the parchment back to Harry, who took it uncertainly.

"Mr. Potter, I'm afraid that handing in your homework for the rest of the year may not be enough to save you at this point."

"Professor?" He glanced over at Ron to see if he knew what was going on, but Ron only looked on, giving no encouragement.

"Your grades are very low and I do not believe you have enough time to pull them back up. It has been discussed that you may be removed from school after the term is over."

"R- removed?"

"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my lesson plan and Mr. Weasley's detention. Good day."

She put her glasses back on and left Harry standing there with his mouth open slightly. Finally after Ron coughed a moment later, Harry backed out of the room and shut the door.

They were going to expel him? Then he'd really have no place to go but back to the Dursley's, if they were there at all. They'd snap his wand in half and send him on his way to face Voldemort without a chance. He shuddered then and ran as fast as his legs could carry him all the way up to his dorm room, where he flung his trunk open and grabbed the tall stack of Transfiguration essays he'd done that year. Every single one of them.

His shoes pounded against the stone pavers in the hall on his way back to her office, where he waited for long moments to catch his breath before knocking on the door. Once again he was bade to enter, and still slightly winded, he walked straight to her desk and handed her the parchments.

Looking sternly over her glasses at him, she took the work and flipped through it for a few moments before handing it back to him.

"I'm sorry Mr. potter, but I don't accept copied homework. If you please, you will go straight to detention with Professor Snape. I will know if you have not."

Brows knitting together and unknitting in uncertainty, Harry stood there with a slack jaw. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, unable to say anything. They really were going to kick him out, and there was no hope for him now.

"I have excused you Mr. Potter."

Hands shaking, he dropped the work, papers flying everywhere, and ran from the room. When he had gone, McGonagall looked unnerved, but no more so than after Ron had said quietly, "Professor. He doesn't have any friends to copy off of, and I always burn mine when I'm done with it."

* * *

Severus heard a loud noise across the hall that sounded oddly like someone had gotten into the cleaning closet, and rose to see what was going on. On the other side of his door he found Harry mopping the corridor floor in tears.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

Harry shook his head and turned his back on his Professor, mopping in the other direction as he let out a stifled sob.

"What have you been given detention for?"

When Harry didn't answer, Severus reached out to touch the boy's shoulder, but Harry growled in anger and shrugged him off, turning away again as he scrubbed the floors harder than was necessary.

Giving the Gryffindor a moment to himself, and also giving himself some time to think, Severus finally reached forward to touch Harry's shoulder again. While he received the same response as before, he held tight with both hands this time and tried to catch Harry's eyes.

"Harry, look at me." It was firm, but there was something else there too that Harry picked up on, and he felt drawn to look up. Bad idea. Once he had looked up and found a pair of concerned eyes, probably the only pair in the castle, he sobbed once and sank to the floor, mop clattering to the floor beside him. Face buried in his hands, he was vaguely aware that he had been lifted to his feet and guided into Professor Snape's office, and put in one of the chairs.

"They're kicking me out of school!" Harry said with anguish obvious in his voice as he looked up and met Severus' eyes again. In a flood of tears he opened up his soul and told Severus things he thought he'd never say to anybody. Things about his life at home and how he'd been left behind over the summer, things about doing his homework and pushing everybody away, and things about taking control of his life in the only way he knew how.

"And now it's all over," he said between sharp intakes of breath and red rimmed eyes. "She told me I'm being removed, and that it's already been discussed."

He put a hand on Harry's shoulder to steady the boy, and said, "I was not aware of any such discussion. You will stay here until I return. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded and wiped his eyes repeatedly, which now felt sore and swollen. When he was sure the teen was stable enough to leave alone, he swept out of the office and up through the castle.

"Minerva, I need you for a moment."

Minerva McGonagall looked up with surprise. She'd just released Mr. Weasley, and had not expected another unexpected visitor.

"Of course." She stood up and followed him without question. Generally when Severus looked like that, there was trouble that needed tending to involving a student.

Surprise radiated from her eyes as she found herself being lead to her own house and up through the tower to the sixth year boy's dormitory.

Kneeling down in front of Harry's bed, Severus opened up the trunk that had been left unlocked in Harry's rush to get the stack of papers, and revealed several neat stacks of parchment.

"What is this Severus? What are we doing?"

"An entire year's worth of homework for every subject Mr. Potter has taken this year," he said. "And we are discovering the nature of Mr. Potter's behavior, which I would have thought you would have made an effort to do sooner."

She gave him a calculating look, which he returned, but they were brought out of their staring match by a quiet voice saying, "Harry doesn't know I've seen him, but he hides in the back of the library until it closes each night and does all of his homework." They turned to find Neville sitting on his bed with a Herbology book in his lap. In their haste entering the room, they hadn't seen him there.

"Go on," Severus said in a level tone.

Neville shrugged. "Or at least, that's what he did until he was kicked out by Madam Pince. He waits until we're all asleep to sort it all out and stack it in his trunk each night."

Severus looked back to Minerva, who only held a hand up to her forehead and said, "Mr. Longbottom, would you please give us some privacy for a few moments?"

"Yes Professor." He took his book and left the room, shutting the door behind him on the way out. As soon as he was gone, Minerva looked up and met Severus' eyes again.

"Do you mean to tell me he's been doing his work all year?"

"It would appear so." He motioned with is eyes back down to the trunk full of nothing but homework.

"You don't seem surprised."

"I had my suspicions that he was doing at least some of it, because he was doing fairly adequately on tests."

"When he showed up for them!" she said in an exasperated voice.

"When he could concentrate well enough to show up for them," Severus corrected.

"Are you telling me that after five years of torturing and belittling the boy, you've suddenly had a change of heart?"

"I've suddenly seen the black eyes and broken bone's he's endured during holidays with the Muggles he lives with!"

Eyes wide with shock, Minerva took in the seriousness of the angry man before her.

"He's- he's been abused Severus?"

"I brought him back early from the last break because I walked up just in time to see his uncle throw him down the front steps and tell him that if he came back they wouldn't be there and he'd never see them again. As for his behavior earlier in the year, he's been struggling with the fact that they took him on vacation where he'd never been before and intentionally left him there with no money and no wand. It took him nearly a month to get back to the house where he dug up his things where his uncle had buried them in the back yard. That was after he'd burned Harry's familiar and thrown it into his trunk along with his school things and wand."

Minerva held a hand up over her mouth and turned away.

After long moments of silence in which she shook her head several times, she asked, "Does the Headmaster know?"

"Only as of a few weeks ago."

Turning again, she said, "I only spoke to him this morning about removing Harry from school. I had no idea Severus, truly. If I had-"

"If any of us had," Severus interrupted her, and left her there in the dorms as he made his way back down through the castle to Harry.

Sun shone in a beam down through the dusty air on a quiet form sitting on the window sill. His bag was packed and sitting near his feet on the floor. He was calm, but less than certain as he stared out the window at the warmness of the early summer day. Where would he go from here? What would happen next? What did destiny hold in store for him now? All questions that he would have to wait and wonder about.

"Hey."

Harry turned his head to see Decklan standing a few feet off.

"Hey," he greeted back. It had been a quiet few months since he'd returned from the Dursleys and gotten things straightened out with his grades, though Decklan had remained friendly throughout. Harry was sure now there were no ulterior motives about the boy now, but was still unsure about becoming friends with someone again.

"Everybody's ready to leave. They're all waiting in the Entrance Hall for a teacher to walk them down to the train."

"Oh," Harry said. He turned back to look out the window for a moment, but turned again a moment later when Decklan said quietly, "I heard you're going home with Professor Snape."

"Yeah."  He motioned to his bag on the floor. "Said he lives on a lake somewhere in the woods."

Silence passed between them for a few more moments before Decklan finally worked up the nerve to say what he had to say. "Harry... I told."

For the first time Decklan had seen that year, a small smile passed over Harry's lips, and then disappeared again. "I know."

"You do? Did Professor Snape tell you?"

He shook his head. "I just know the type of person you are. It wasn't hard to figure out you'd tell eventually."

Decklan's face fell, but seeing this, Harry shook his head. "No, I didn't mean it like that. You're trustworthy, really. I mean you're the type of person to do what's right. Besides, you said you'd keep my secret for a week, and you did, longer than that really."

"You're not upset then?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Get to go someplace else don't I?"

Decklan grinned then and said, "Won't it be wild living with Professor Snape? I know the Slytherins say he's got a dungeon in his basement he keeps naughty kids in, but I'd rather think he's got his own pitch in the back yard. He used to fly you know. He was a Beater for Slytherin when he was in school."

Harry's brows raised so high they disappeared into his fringe. "He was?" Hm, that might explain a little more about the rivalry Professor Snape and Harry's father had during their school days. Something similar to himself and Draco he supposed.

"It'll be... different," Harry admitted. If someone had told him even six months ago he'd be living with Snape he would have owled the special ward at St. Mungos to have that person hauled in for examination.

"What about you, where are you off to after this?" Harry asked, jumping off the ledge and slipping on one shoulder strap of his bag.

Decklan shrugged. "Don't rightly know do I? The Arrows are looking for a Chaser. I might go for that. I sort of fancied a job managing one of the teams in some fashion though."

Harry smiled as they began walking down the hall. "Yeah, that would suit you."

"Yeh think?"

"Yeah, I do."

* * *

The Entrance Hall was a flurry of movement and excitement. Students stood in groups of friends chatting animatedly about their summer and exchanging writing addresses and in some cases Muggle phone numbers. Amongst them was Decklan, who stood on the stairs talking with Ethan and Elissa about Quidditch.

The voice of a younger boy from Hufflepuff brought Decklan's attention away from the conversation.

"I bet he's going to an orphanage. I heard they were kicking him out after this year for the trouble he's caused." Looking over to where the boy was pointing, they found Harry following Professor Snape across the Entrance Hall, back pack slung over his shoulder.

Scoffing Decklan crossed his arms and said, "Don't be stupid." He gave a pointed look in Ron and Hermione's direction, seeing as how they were standing just a few feet away. "He had every right to be like he was this year."

"Says who?" the mouthy second year snapped.

"Me!  And Professor Snape," Decklan added as an afterthought.

"Me too," Ethan said.

"And me," Elissa added. Decklan nodded his approval. They knew snippets of what had gone on with Harry, but only because certain things had filtered across the school, none from him.

"Harry's staying with him this summer because last summer his family took him on vacation and then left him there without any money or anything. And when he went home for Easter, they were gone. The whole house was packed up and moved away. So next time you think you know everything about everybody just keep your mouth shut." He gave a glance in Ron's direction to be sure he had heard. He had a feeling that none of Harry's former friends knew the real reason for his behavior, although he had stretched the truth a little to save Harry the embarrassment of coming back covered in bruises.

Thinking on it now, Decklan thought that maybe Harry hadn't handled things well this year, but he couldn't say he blamed him now that he understood some things about him. Decklan might have done the same given the same circumstances.

As Decklan moved off with his friends, Ron and Hermione shared a look of shock and sadness. Their friend had been trying to struggle through something, and instead of sticking by him, they had gone their separate ways.

"Maybe Professor Snape will allow visitors," Ron said after long moments as Harry and Snape disappeared through the great oak front doors, voice low and ashamed.

"What if Harry doesn't want to see us?" Hermione worried quietly.

Ron sighed and said, "Maybe he doesn't. But true friends would try to be there for him anyway." And with that he moved off to find Ginny and tell her what had happened, and what had changed to make him finally understand. Harry wasn't the only one hurt that year, because like ripples in a pond, when one friend hurt, they all did.