Harry lay back on his bed, staring at the water damaged ceiling above him. He found shapes in the yellow puddles, stains, almost as if he were staring into the clouds. There's a fish, a dog, the grim- he scoffed to himself. Of course the grim would be splattered on his bedroom ceiling like one of those muggle inkblot tests he'd seen advertised on the telly.

Sitting up and rubbing a hand over his face, he allowed himself to reflect on the note he had received not ten minutes prior.

Mr. Potter,

You will be retrieved from your place of residence in no later than one hours time. Further details will be discussed upon arrival.

-S.S.

The only S.S he knew was Severus Snape, and he dreaded seeing the most abhorred man in Hogwarts on a good day, and during the Summer, well, he all but cringed at the thought of seeing him sooner than expected.

In sudden realization that his Professor would be there within forty-five minutes, and he was still dressed in the ill-fitting clothing he classified as pajamas, Harry leaped from the bed and bound over to his dresser.

He tossed the laundry behind him, classifying many of the articles of clothing too dirty, too stained, too ripped. Groaning and sitting back until his bottom touched the ground, he threw his last shirt onto the floor and glared. He couldn't have been given further notice of the teacher's arrival? How the hell did they expect him to be ready to leave within an hour?

Cursing under his breath, Harry grabbed the cleanest shirt he could find- a red t-shirt with a small rip on the hem- Harry tossed it over his head and grabbed the cleanest pair of trousers he could find. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the already untamed strands even further, and glared at his overall appearance. He looked like one of the thugs Dudley hung out with.

Clenching his jaw, Harry threw all of the clothing on the floor into his trunk unceremoniously and slammed the lid down. He retrieved his wand from the loose floorboard next to his bed, and munched on a pumpkin pasty he had put a preservation spell over before leaving Hogwarts.

His stomach tossed the sweet around, churning as he continued eating. It was the first time he had eaten in three days. He figured he could delve into his secret stockpile of food if he was leaving.

Feeling somewhat satiated, if not a little parched, Harry filled his backpack with the books he had been using for his summer assignments and the parchments he had written the assignments on. He had three muggle notebooks filled in just a month with notes from Transfiguration and Defense. He doubted he scored high enough in Potions for that OWL, so didn't bother with that homework.

While it was strange for him to delve into his studies so, well, studiously, he had finally come to the realization that he couldn't depend on his Professors to teach him all he would need to know to defeat Voldemort. He couldn't rely on others to teach him enough if he wanted to survive, and he did want to survive. He wanted to get his own place, play Quidditch professionally, become an auror, do so many things with his life. He couldn't do that dead, either.

Finished packing up his belonging, Harry looked around the room and made sure everything of magical nature was inside of his trunk. He gazed at the worn copies of muggle literature stacked on his bedside table, some looking more waterlogged than others. Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka was at the top. The cover was ripped and the side worn. Dudley had stomped on it, if he was remembering correctly.

He didn't like the psychological take on the book that his teacher had been preaching, and had chosen to receive a failure on the essay having to do with the novel rather than read through that "shite" as he had put it. Harry actually liked the book, in fact, he was very much like Gregor. He was locked away and shunned by his family, forgotten. They hadn't even opened the door to his room for a day, and he was looking forward to his teacher arriving so he could relieve the ache in his bladder.

Bitting his lip, Harry moved over to the window, staying in the shadow created by the thin-threaded curtains. It was a bright day on Privet Drive, the sun beating down on the pavement and the grass and plants yellowing from the heat. The window was hot to the touch, and Harry smirked thinking of the black clad Potion's Professor stalking down the sidewalk of this muggle suburban street. He almost wished the man was a vampire so that he would poof away in a cloud of dust, for he assuredly would with the heat and rays shining on him if he was such a creature.

His thoughts strayed once again to a scene playing out across the street from Number Four. Dudley was sitting back smoking a cigarette while Piers was beating up some twelve year old. The kid was trying to run away, crying, and Harry could hear his screams for help from his room. He didn't understand why his Aunt and Uncle could just sit around, listening to this, and not do a thing. The two teenagers across the street seemed to get bored with the scrawny pre-teen and kicked him to the ground. Harry winced as the boy's palms met the searing pavement, and pain clouded the little kid's features.

Harry saw red.

From behind him, he could hear the locks jiggling in place as his magic reacted to the situation. He tried to calm down, but it was of no use. The doorknob fell to the floor, creating a dull thud as it hit the carpeted floor. It rolled away under the cupboard, and Harry took no time rushing down the stairs.

His Aunt screeched, and his Uncle guffawed as Harry raced out of the door and to the kid who's hands were now being crushed by Dudley standing on them, and burning. Harry could feel the heat coming off of the sidewalk, wincing at the pain the kid must be in, but continued running. He rammed his shoulder into his gargantuan cousin, displacing his center of balance and causing the fat lump to fall to the floor.

Harry helped the kid up, who was beyond consolation as he gazed at his blistering palms. Harry held his wrists, ignoring his cousins cries for help. He was already known as the neighborhood delinquent, why change their opinions of him now?

Leading him over to Mrs. Figg's garden, Harry turned on the hose and sprayed cold water on the sniffing boy's hands before him. Harry winced at the growing blisters, these were serious. The kid should go to a hospital or doctor to get them checked out.

"How far away do you live from here?" Harry stopped the boy's hands from coming together, ignoring the adults that were now coming their way with shocked expressions. Some looked angry, others baffled, did they think he did this?

"Just down the block," the boy sniffed, rubbing his nose on his shirt sleeve. "I was going to the library when they tripped me."

A wave of pity washed over Harry. He had been a victim of Dudley's torture before, he knew how it felt to be picked on and kicked down for doing nothing.

Nodding, Harry turned off the hose and smiled in apology to Mrs. Figg, who was staring out the window beside him. She looked down at the child next to him, and his injuries, and seemed to shrug Harry's usage of her water off.

"Lead the way. You may need to take a trip to the doctors though, these burns are pretty bad."

The smaller boy shuffled his feet and began walking to the left of Privet Drive. They turned at the first right and then continued down the road for four houses before the child stopped again.

"You want me to talk to your Mum, or are you okay?" Harry internally groaned to himself, he didn't have time to talk to his mum actually, his Professor would be at Number Four any minute.

"It's okay, I'll do it. Do you really think I need to go to the doctors?" The boy looked frightened, but Harry couldn't do anything about that. He nodded and knocked on the door for the boy. A young woman answered the door and was shocked at her son's injuries. She glared at Harry, of course blaming him for the child's injuries, and slammed the door in his face.

He could hear the kid on the other side of the door protesting, but his mother shushed him urging him further into the house.

Harry shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking slowly back to Privet Drive. Leave it to him to get into trouble for helping someone. He bet ten galleons that Dudley would be milking his 'wounds' to Aunt Petunia, and Harry was happy for a brief moment that Snape was coming to get him.

Happy to see Snape...well, there is a first for everything.

Returning to the scene of Dudley's crime, Harry felt like turning around at the crowd of people surrounding his cousin. Oh Merlin...

"There he is!" Someone shouted, and Harry's eyes widened as Uncle Vernon turned around slowly, face a terribly dark shade of violet.

Harry could feel his face blanching as his Uncle stalked towards him. He didn't dare move for fear of the mob chasing him. "What did you do to my son, you freak!" Vernon shouted, grabbing Harry by his shirt and hoisting him into the air, shaking him. Harry grabbed onto his wrist to keep an anchor, but grew dizzy at the constant movement.

He threw Harry onto the ground, and Harry gasped as his palms met the pavement. It was hotter than he thought it was. Vernon towered over him, and Harry winced, cringing away from the man.

A moan came from the center of the crowd of people, just as an ambulance arrived on the scene. Harry wanted to cry, and scream, and run, all at once. How the bloody hell did this situation escalate so fast?

Paramedics jumped out of the vehicle, grabbing the necessary equipment to check over their patient, and ran to Dudley who was on his side, gasping and holding his ribcage. Vernon turned away from Harry, giving him time to bolt up and put distance between his Uncle and himself. His head was starting to ache, and his stomach was about to expel everything he had eaten. And damn, he had to use the loo so badly.

The paramedics checked over Dudley for fifteen minutes, looking more and more confused as they continued. Harry cringed seeing Professor Snape appear in the shadows of the Dursley house, slowly moving to join the crowd. He eyed Harry, eyes narrowing at the scrawny dark haired boy. What did he do now.

The head paramedic stood five minutes after Snape's arrival, and called Vernon over to speak with him, near Harry.

"There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him, sir. We found slight damage to his lungs from tobacco use, but other than that, nothing to be concerned about."

"What?" Vernon screamed, glaring at Harry. Harry shrunk under his gaze. He just wanted to run, as far away as possible.

The paramedic looked down at his report, and shrugged. "There is bruising on his hands, his knuckles. He may have been in a fight, but he did not receive any injures whatsoever."

Vernon began to turn colors again, now from sheer embarrassment. Dudley was being sat up by the two remaining paramedics as the other began to pack up their equipment. The spectators were beginning to whisper, and Vernon all but shoved Dudley inside, leaving Harry in the blazing sun.

Harry sank to the ground, propping his bottom at the edge of the sidewalk in the shade and rubbing a hand over his face.

Black leather boots appeared in his line of sight, but he kept his eyes trained to the ground. He wanted to go back to sleep.

"What happened here, Potter?" Snape sneered, glaring down his nose at the mischief maker before him.

Harry shook his head and slowly lifted the appendage, face blank of any emotion. "Can we please leave, sir?"

Snape's eyes narrowed even further this time and his lips thinned into a harsh line. "No, it is prudent that we meet with your guardians and discuss the situation."

"Situation, sir?" Harry's nosed scrunched and his brow furrowed, what happened this time? The Ministry had finally admitted to Voldemort's return, and in turn had begun preparing for war. From what he saw at the end of the year, in the Daily Prophet at least, the wizarding world was going on a sort of lockdown, and investigations started within the Ministry. How any of that concerned him, Harry didn't know.

With an eyebrow quirked, Snape put a hand into his pocket- Harry just realized he was in black muggle pants and a white oxford shirt- and retrieved a shrunken copy of that morning's Daily Prophet. He resized the newspaper to its regular size and thrusts the copy into the arrogant teenager's hands.

Harry pales as he reads the headline, and his shoulders hunch.

"Oh shite," he murmurs resting his hands on his knees.

"Indeed," the dark haired Professor deadpans, hoisting the adolescent up by the back of his shirt and putting him onto his feet.

*~*~* 

Ginny Weasley Falls Pregnant- "Harry Potter is the dad."

By: Rita Skeeter

Sixteen year old Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, is dealing with a very unexpected situation, the pregnancy of his fifteen year old girlfriend. This reporter has learned that Miss Weasley was seen leaving St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in tears, being lead by her mother and father. Although no further comments were given at the scene, an official statement by Albus Dumbledore has been released concerning the situation, one that young Harry surely did not expect.

"Tests have confirmed that Miss Ginevra Weasley is expecting a child. However, there is no need to panic. Hogwarts and its staff have vowed to aid both Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley in their education as much as possible. An official statement will be written by Mr. Potter explaining the situation within the next few weeks."

Mr. Potter was recently under the spotlight of the Ministry after a break in at the Ministry of Magic Headquarters by Death Eaters and the ensuing battle. One person was pronounced dead, convicted criminal Sirius Black, who also was Harry Potter's godfather. Could this emotional anguish have lead to the two teenagers interacting, and in turn, a child on the way? This reporter has deemed it necessary to find out.

*~*~* 

"Professor, why do we need to talk to my relatives?" Snape pushed him towards the house, and knocked on the door, not answering the teenager's question.

Petunia answered and squeaked at the sight of the Professor. Harry held his breath as her face turned red and then slowly returned to normal. He sighed in relief, he couldn't deal with one of her tantrums right now.

"I must speak to you and your husband, Mrs. Dursley, immediately." She looked both ways outside and then ushered the pair in, directing them into the kitchen. Snape lowered himself into one of the chairs, narrowing his eyes at the creaking sound that issued from the wood.

Vernon and Petunia both sat down together on the opposite side of the Potion's Master, and Snape glared at Harry until he sat beside him.

"Your nephew was impregnated a young witch attending Hogwarts." He stopped there, and Harry finally let the news sink in. Oh Merlin, his life was over. His thought process paused, however, when he thought back to the last year. At the end of the year, he had avoided Ginny. He was too depressed. He hadn't even kissed her in two months.

"How far along is she?" Petunia answered, shocked and staring at Harry with wide eyes.

"A month, four weeks. Wizarding tests are able to recognize the symptoms of pregnancy earlier. It wouldn't been the last week of term, four weeks ago, that Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley would have...interacted."

Harry shook his head, fists clenching. Of course no one would ask him his opinion on this. No one ever does. "Professor, it wasn't me. I've...well...I'm a virgin sir. The farthest Ginny and I have gone is kissing." Harry blushed, staring down at his hands.

"Are you saying that your impregnated girlfriend is a liar, Mr. Potter? Because I am sure she would beg to differ." Harry flinched at his tone, but stood by his words. He hadn't even kissed Ginny in months, he respected her and wanted to wait until they were both older to do anything more.

"I'm not saying Ginny is a liar, sir. It wasn't me though, " he bowed his head, the realization that Ginny might have cheated on him at the forefront of his mind. She wouldn't cheat on him though, he had been there for her. He had protected her, why would she do anything like that? What if someone hurt her, or worse? Was someone framing him?

Snape cleared his throat, not liking the lost expression on Potter's face. Potter was always so sure of himself, and right now he looked confused, hurt, and afraid. Serves him right, the Professor thought, removing a stack of papers from his pocket and enlarging them much like he did the Prophet.

"These papers, once signed, will give guardianship of Mr. Potter to the Professor's of Hogwarts, myself being the main guardian. He will be living in the castle during the Summers, working when possible to support Ms. Weasley and the expenses of a child. We hope that by doing this, it will teach him responsibility," Snape sneered down at Harry, who looked crestfallen. The child wasn't his, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible. He wanted to run up into his room and cry, why was this happening?

"I-I," and here Harry's voice cracked. A tear slowly rolled down his right cheek, and he wiped it away inconspicuously before murmuring something about the loo and running out of the room.

He hunched over the sink and let the tears fall from his eyes. He wasn't ready for this, he was only sixteen. He hadn't finished school, he didn't even really know what he wanted to do after Hogwarts. How was he supposed to do this? It wasn't even his! Why was this being forced on him? Why was it always him that was in the wrong, why did no one believe him?

Splashing water onto his face, he scrubbed at his eyes and willed the redness to go away. He needed to talk to Dumbledore, have tests done, show them that it isn't his. But what about Ginny? Then she'll be going at this alone, dammit! There isn't any good solution. Everything was going so well with her too, and then this. Shite, fuck, mother-

A knock on the door interrupted his inner musings, and Harry quickly wiped his face on a towel and ran a wet hand through his hair. He wasn't going to let anyone see him weak, he was going to deal with this, and let things play out. He just hoped the Professor didn't lay into him too much once they got back to the castle.

He opened the door and wasn't surprised to see Snape leaning against the opposite wall, with no pity at all in those dark eyes. Harry's eyes narrowed as he went into his room to fetch his trunk and belongings, knowing that he would never set foot in this household again.

He shrugged by Petunia, who had a far away look in her eyes, and didn't even look at Vernon as he walked out of the door. These people weren't family, they were basically zoo keepers. They locked him up, fed him when they liked, punished him when he was disobedient- in their standards of course. He couldn't give two wits what they thought about him, he hated them, he could safely say that.

Dudley was sitting on the sidewalk, smoking again when Harry walked out of the house. He looked at Harry in fear, and then at his bags. He smirked, "So they're kicking you out. About time freak." He blew a gust of smoke Harry's way, causing the dark haired teen to cough.

Snape prodded him in the shoulder, urging him to move forward and lead him to the side of the house. The Potion's Master grabbed the boy's wrist, tightening his grip until it was almost painful, and then spun, effectively apparating the duo away.

Landing at the front gates of the castle, flashing lights were the only thing Harry could see. Snape had taken his shoulder and steered him inside the gates, where the wizarding reporters seemed stationed. They were shouting questions at Harry, all having to do with Ginny. He ducked his head and followed the Professor, not taking his eyes off of the black cloak billowing in front of him.

Upon making it across the grounds, Snape lead them up the grand staircase and to Dumbledore's Office's entrance. "Marshmallow Snitches," the dark man sneered, looking disgusted at even saying the name.

The duo stepped onto the moving staircase and stepped into the office. Arthur and Molly Weasley were sitting in front of the Headmaster's desk, apparently angry. Snape stepped in front of Harry, effectively blocking him from the Weasley's angry gazes.

"You!" Mrs. Weasley screeched, causing Harry to flinch. He was glad that the Professor was between him and her at the moment.

"Molly, perhaps it is time you took your leave," Dumbledore stated, eyebrows arched over twinkling blue eyes.

"Don't tell me to leave Albus! This is his fault!" She stalked towards the Professor who held his ground, staring down at the plump, irate woman.

"To the common knowledge, Mrs. Weasley, it takes two to tango." Molly blushed and huffed, turning towards the fire and disappearing into the flames. Arthur looked like he was going to say something, but instead turned and followed his wife.

Harry didn't consider the Weasley's reaction to this entire misunderstanding, and he felt a headache coming on. They were his first family, his first contact with the wizarding world that he could remember. And they despised him.

Snape let him through the doorway, and followed Potter with his eyes as the boy sunk into an armchair in front of the Headmaster's desk. He looked aged beyond his years, stress marring the adolescent features, stress that wouldn't be there if it wasn't for him.

Harry held his hands over his eyes blocking his view of the headmaster. "It isn't mine."

Albus leaned back into his chair, interweaving his fingers and placing them on his lap. "Mrs. Weasley would beg to differ, as would the tests." He slid a stack of papers towards Harry, which he reluctantly looked at.

"Like muggles we can test the similarities between blood types of fetus and parent. It is a match according to the top paper. The second is a magical signature test. The baby will have a combined magical signature of both the mother and father, and your is a match. You can see, Harry, why we have conclusive evidence that you are the father." Harry shook his head, throwing the papers onto the desk and standing up, pacing the room. Both the Headmaster and Potion's Master kept their eyes on him, in case another incident occurred that would destroy the office once again.

"I'm sure I would remember having sex with her, Professor. I don't. There is no memory. The last time I even remember kissing her was two months ago." He screamed the last sentence and leaned against the hearth of the fire, gazing into the flames. His head was throbbing, he felt like crying, and he wanted to be left alone dammit! "And I'm damn sure that babies don't come out of just kissing."

Albus sighed and stood up, walking around his desk and laying a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It'll be okay Harry, you aren't alone in this." "It isn't mine," the young man whispered tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. "It isn't mine."

Harry sat at the head of a rather large table in the staff room, waiting for the rest of his Professors to arrive. Dumbledore had spoken to him briefly ten minutes before about the Professors setting guidelines for Harry now that he would be staying at the castle on a permanent basis, as well as discussing the situation. Harry felt like this was just going to be a huge yelling fest, but didn't argue. He hoped to get some answers from this meeting, namely how he was the father of a child when he knows he is a virgin.

Snape sat at his right, and Dumbledore sat at the opposite end of the table, at the head as well. He was shuffling through a stack of papers, probably having to do with the situation. Why the bloody hell was he mentally naming this the situation?

Professors McGonagall and Sprout entered the room at the same time, taking their seats quietly while also holding a small stack of papers. Now that he thought about it, Snape had a small stack of papers in front of him as well. Somehow, Harry didn't think he'd like what was on those papers much.

Madame Pomfrey appeared in a huff from the fireplace in the corner of the room, glaring at Harry. She kept her eyes narrowed as she took her seat, not breaking eye contact with the teenager. It wasn't long before Flitwick, Hagrid, Sinistra, and Trelawney made their way into the room, all holding stacks of paper. What was on those papers?

Albus cleared his throat, calling the meeting to order. "We are here to discuss, with Mr. Potter, a rather unfortunate situation, which all of you have been informed about. Madame Pomfrey, if you would like to begin?"

Poppy cleared her throat, picking up the top paper from her stack and passing it around to all of the teachers. "This is a copy of the examination Ginevra Weasley underwent three days ago. She was complaining of stomach pains when her mother brought her into me, nausea being very prevalent," here she pointed to the center of the page, and Harry followed along with her, afraid to read further.

"You will then see that I, as protocol states, took a sample of blood to test for infections. The standard spell was cast upon the sample, and while she was iron deficient, her hormone levels were much higher than previous tests." She pointed lower then, at a scan of some sort. It was very black, and looked like it was a picture of something "I then performed a scan of her stomach and appendix, finding it strange that her lower midsection was slightly swollen. Upon further scanning, a fetus was discovered."

Merlin, that picture was the baby. The tiny white dot must be it. Holy hell...

"When informed, Miss Weasley began crying and confessed that her and Mr. Potter had had intercourse. She apparently had not known the proper spells, and had expected Mr. Potter to. Her mother was shocked, but remained calm. She then took Miss Weasley to St. Mungo's where more detailed pictures were taken of the baby, and a timeframe maintained. Blood tests were also analyzed, samples of Mr. Potter's blood provided and had come back positive of paternal affiliation."

Harry felt light headed. How did a baby that wasn't his have his DNA?

"With the return of he-who-must-not-be-named, a magical signature test was also done in case some sort of blood ritual had taken place, or polyjuice at the time of intercourse. Everything is a match, conclusively stating that Mr. Potter is the father."

Harry's jaw dropped, just like that they had determined him to be a father. He rubbed a palm against his forehead and read through the paper once more, ignoring Pomfrey's telling off. By blood and magic, the child was his. How?

"I have never had sex, Madame Pomfrey," he outright stated, not caring if he was talking in front of every Professor. It couldn't be his!

"Could Harry's memory have been modified?" Dumbledore stated, knowing what was on Harry's mind. It would be on every father's mind that didn't recall the deed in which go their significant other pregnant.

Pomfrey narrowed her eyes, glaring at Harry. "Miss Weasley's memory has already been collected and analyzed by Mind Healers at St. Mungo's. There was no modification on her brain, however you have obviously not been checked, Potter."

"Then what the hell are you waiting for? Check my mind, have Snape perform legilimency, it isn't mine and this will prove it!" Snape looked down the table at Dumbledore who inclined his head, and then turned back to Harry with his wand out. Harry gulped.

"If you don't fight the intrusion, it won't hurt as badly. Legilimens!" Images flashed before his eyes- Dudley that morning, helping the injured child, sitting in his room earlier...

The images kept flashing, slowly progressing back to the time of the baby's conception. Suddenly the memories stopped, and Harry felt Snape literally in his mind. It was almost like when Voldemort invaded, but not as threatening. He felt Snape sifting through his thoughts, pushing some out of the way and analyzing others. Harry squeezed his eyes shut as a headache bloomed in the back of his eyes, it hurt so bad.

Suddenly all movement stopped and he felt Snape prodding at something in his mind. Harry gasped as pain flashed through his body, as if his nerve endings were on fire! Harry felt himself bite his lip and lean forward over the table, groaning. He felt a hand on his forehead, but couldn't move. Snape was still in his mind, it was the only thought he could maintain for more than three seconds.

Harry felt the pain once again, a rolling wave of nausea now hitting him. What was happening?

All at once, the pain ceased to exist and he was able to look around the room again. Snape was still seated next to him, now rubbing his temples. What had he found? And why had it hurt him so much? Dumbledore was standing next to him, running a hand through his beard and looking slightly confused.

A vial was slid in front of Harry, and he didn't question the contents before downing it, happy to find it was a pain reliever. He slumped into his chair, and tiredly looked towards his Potion's Professor.

The Professor collected himself and then looked at his colleagues. "There seems to be a memory around the time of the conception, however it is completely sealed, blocked. It's similar to a barrier, and attached to memories around it. Very complex mental magic, something only a master could do. I've never seen anything like it." He gazed at Harry with loathing, hey he didn't have anything to do with this!

"It felt like my body was on fire," Harry choked out, wincing as his voice broke. "My head hurt incredibly bad too, just behind my eyes." Dumbledore looked down at Harry with a scrutinizing gaze. "We will have to research this further. In the meantime, seeing as you are the father, Harry, whether you like it or not, we need to discuss what will happen from here."

Harry sighed and nodded, rubbing his forehead again. The pain relieving potion only went so far, this pain was in his very bones. He didn't even care at the moment that he was assenting to being a father to this child, he just wanted to sleep.

"You have been given a set of rooms on the first floor; one for yourself, one for Miss Weasley, and another for the baby. Both of the rooms have strict wards barring the others presence for longer than one minute, unless the baby is in the vicinity." He gave an outline of the rooms to Harry, surprising the teenager that it was like a muggle flat.

"All teachers will be allowed to enter the rooms at any time, a special entrance being added to each of their quarters in case of emergency. You need only speak to the portrait guarding this door with the Professor you would like to visit and reason of visit, and he will fetch the Professor in question if need be." Harry nodded slowly, looking at all of his Professors. The male Professors seemed pitying, while the females looked rabid, all holding some form of anger however at the situation. Snape just looked plain angry and annoyed.

"A small kitchenette with the basic necessities has been provided, and a living room with two study areas has been set up as well. You will find all of your books for next year on your specific desk, Miss Weasley will have hers as well.

"Now to more pressing matters. In eight months time, Hogwarts will be welcoming its youngest student in two hundred years. The prospective due date is March 20th if I am correct?" Madame Pomfrey nodded, glancing down at her stack of papers. "With a baby comes many expenses. Food, clothing, and day care being the bare minimum. We have eight months to prepare both Miss Weasley and yourself for the real world, as it is so put."

He produced now another parchment, handing it only to Harry this time. "This is a list of shops in Hogsmeade looking for help in the next few months. Some are willing to take applications from Hogwarts students in need of extra money, for affairs such as these. Some are odd jobs, but it is money that you need in order to support your child and Miss Weasley."

Harry nodded, sighing and reading down the list. They didn't sound like such bad jobs, actually. It was more of a time issue. How was he supposed to get through his classes and work?

"What about my classes, sir?"

"Another good point. All of your Professor's have come today with a list of every lesson plan for this coming year. We believe you should use this next month to get ahead of your classes while working part-time. You will be expected to complete the homework and do the tests in order. If done to satisfaction, you may be able to skip some classes during the school year." Harry nodded again, feeling too tired to argue that he couldn't be the father any longer. He wanted to know what was behind that barricade, what was being hidden from even himself?

"Professor Sinistra and Professor Snape are willing to allow you to work on your practical assignments throughout the week. All other teachers are willing to tutor you if you would like in the book work in the afternoons." Harry nodded again, collecting a copy from every teacher of their lesson plans. He had quite a stack of parchment piling in front of him, and he cringed thinking about having to read it all.

Dumbledore glanced at a clock in the corner of the room and deemed it time for dinner. He ushered his staff and Harry out of the staff room and into the Great Hall. All were quiet on the walk down, and Harry was mentally and physically exhausted. His entire world had shifted today. He wasn't just Harry anymore. He had people relying on him, people that needed him to survive. He was going to be a father.

Harry collapsed into one of the chairs around a large oak table set up during the holidays for those left at the castle. He picked at his food- roasted chicken with broccoli and mashed potatoes. He wasn't particularly hungry, especially as his body wasn't accustomed to heavy meals just yet.

The atmosphere of the room was awkward as ever, the teachers not willing to talk in front of a student. Glances were thrown, however, and Harry couldn't miss the angry glances between Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey. Setting down his fork, Harry sat back in his chair and waited for someone to finish so that they could show him his rooms.

Snape finished first, and stood without a word to the rest of the table. He grabbed Harry's collar and pushed him in front of him and out of the Hall once more.

"You will be on a tight leash, Potter. There will be no more mischief, pranks, or adventures from this day forward. You will work, study, sleep, and eat. There will be no Hogsmeade weekends, lounging about, it will be hard work. You put yourself into this situation, so there will be no excuses for slacking your responsibilities." Harry gaped at the speech, not believing what he was hearing.

"Professor, I don't even remember being with Ginny. This is a bit harder to accept. I would have used a spell or a condom at least, even if I was thinking of being with Ginny. And I wouldn't have done it at school, I don't know how I could have done it." Snape rolled his eyes and lead him further down the first floor, turning left twice and right once before stopping in front of a dark wooded door.

"These are your chambers. They will be expected to be kept clean, and your friends may only enter with the permission of a teacher. Rest assured, we will know if you attempt to go around us." Harry gulped, nodding vigorously. He doubted Ron and Hermione would even want to be his friends anymore. He had knocked up Ron's little sister, not that he could remember it at all. And they probably wouldn't even believe him if he said he didn't remember. Damn.

Snape put his hand onto the doorknob, and turned the handle. The living room area was small, holding a couch, two desks placed on opposite sides of the room, and a bookshelf next to each. A fire with a mesh covering was in front of the couch, with a small oak table in front of it. It was the bare minimum for a room to have, but Harry liked it.

"Your room is on the left, the baby's in the middle, and Miss Weasley's on the right. You will be expected to decorate the rooms yourself. At the moment they hold the standard items every dorm holds. The child's room is not furnished at all."

Harry's room held a generic four poster pushed up against a wall with his trunk at the end of his bed. A chest of drawers was opposite the bed, with his firebolt leaning against it. It was small, but Harry didn't need much room.

The baby's room was completely barren. The stone flooring had been transfigured to be carpet, but the walls were still harsh grey stone, with a medium sized window facing out onto the Hogwarts grounds.

Ginny's was an exact replica of his except none of her personal items had been added yet. He expected that she would be arriving when school started, and not a day sooner.

Walking back into the living area, Harry was surprised to see Snape conversing with a life sized portrait just to the left of the door. The man was older, perhaps fifty years old with lightened black hair and an emerald green feathered hat perched atop his head. He was wearing matching emerald green robes with a white ruffled shirt visible at the top, just under his chin. The man looked oddly familiar, and Harry knew that he should know who he is.

"Potter, this is Headmaster Salazar Slytherin, he will be watching over these rooms at all times and in constant communication with your Professors." Harry gaped once again, which he seemed to be doing a lot lately. This was one of the founders of Hogwarts, Merlin! They were keeping security very tight in these rooms, it seemed, which he really didn't blame them.

"It is nice to meet you, Headmaster." He bowed his head slightly, standing stiffly in front of the portrait a second later.

Snape quirked an eyebrow at his student, not understanding what sort of game he was playing. He had made sure to inform Salazar all about the child, making sure to not leave one detail of his recklessness over the years out.

"If only under better circumstances, Mr. Potter," Salazar drawled out his answer, seemingly glaring at the child in front of him. What a fool for impregnating his girlfriend at such a young age. While it was common practice in his times, it was very frowned upon these days.

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered, not meeting the portrait's eyes. He felt as though he was being chastised, once again, for something he couldn't recall doing.

"Professor, about my memory. Is there anything we can do?"

Snape looked thoughtful, tapping his fingers gently on his arms. "I can look into an appointment with a Mind Healer at St. Mungos. It will more than likely be highly unpleasant, however. The pain you experienced today will be at a much higher degree. Healers are trained to not stop until the issue is corrected, and it will be a very...detailed examination." Harry hesitantly nodded, thinking back to the unimaginable pain a little over an hour ago. He didn't think he could handle much more without passing out.

"And if I am the baby's father-" "You are the baby's father, Potter. All tests were conclusive, and even more were performed than what was discussed in the meeting. All were documented for your perusal at a later date." Snape interrupted, perching on the edge of the couch.

"Okay, then as the baby's father, don't you think I should be able to talk to Ginny about this? It's completely unfair for her to have total recollection of the events, while I am completely left in the dark. Once again, Dumbledore is going around me in hopes of protecting me. Obviously he isn't doing a good job," Harry snarled, pacing in front of the fire.

"It should be expected that you would not be compliant, however you must take responsibility for your actions. Even actions that are, for the moment, hidden from even you."

"You all can't just expect me to accept this child! I may be the bloody boy-who-lived, but I had plans, a future. And a child was not part of that future for a very long while!" Livid didn't even describe his feelings, he was tired of just letting the Headmaster and Professors talk, it was his turn, his time to defend himself.

""It seems Mr. Potter, that you believe that one can just wave their wand and everything will be fixed. That is not how the world works. All actions have consequences. Now you, for once, will have to feel the full extent of those consequences."

"If you don't even know if you committed those actions, how can the blame be put on you? The consequences shouldn't even be mine to face! Dammit I know the contraception spells! Even if I had had sex with Ginny, I would have used them. This entire situation doesn't make any sense at all! But when does anything in my life make sense." Harry collapsed next to the fire, leaning against the heated stone wall. This was a mess, a complete and utter mess.

"Even so, this is not a time to drown in self pity, Potter. People are now relying on you for their further survival, and any true Gryffindor would brave their way through these struggles and take responsibility."

"Yes, well, I should have let the hat put me in Slytherin then," Harry groused, closing his eyes and leaning back against the stone more fully. He just wanted to sleep, and escape this nightmare. He felt as though he hadn't properly rested in weeks.

He heard Snape stand and walk towards the door, and then pause. "You will be collected at ten tomorrow morning for interviews down in Hogsmeade. I would suggest you look over the lesson plans as well and complete a schedule. It is the only way work will be accomplished." Harry slightly nodded, but ignored the man as he exited the room.

He didn't know what to think right now. The child was his, he had come to somewhat accept that. He didn't know how or why it was his, and it didn't sound like they were going to let him talk to Ginny in the near future, which might be for the better as he had no kind words to tell her at the moment.

Anger was the most common emotion in his arsenal, and he would sure as hell be using it for the time being. His entire future was changing because of this mistake; not just his but Ginny's as well. Like Snape had said earlier, it does take two to have sex. Ginny shouldn't have assumed anything, he didn't expect to baby her throughout their relationship. And now look where that landed them both, uncertain futures and all.

He didn't even remember the event itself and he still blamed Ginny. At last thought, and at the end of the school year at that, sex had been the furthest thing from his mind. His godfather had died, right in front of him. He was killed by his own psychotic cousin at that. Harry didn't even know how they had even gotten together, why, what was the motive?

Sighing, Harry picked himself up off of the floor and went into his room to prepare for bed. These rooms were cold and lifeless, and he couldn't help but compare them to his cupboard back at the Dursleys. He had been so lonely back then, and he felt so alone now. He could tell that most of the people he had come to love in the wizarding world hated him, hell even Snape seemed to hate him just a bit more for this 'transgression'.

His Professors had definitely taken Ginny's side in this entire affair, which Harry really couldn't understand. So what if she was pregnant, yes she was going to have a child, but so was he. He didn't have his memory yet everyone seemed to blame the entire incident on him and him alone. Nothing was being placed on her, at all.

Slipping on an overlarge night shirt and flannel pants, Harry scrubbed his face with harsh, stinging soap before gazing at himself in the mirror. The person before him, a teenager, a scruffy boy that was meant to save the fucking world, was going to be a father. To a child. At sixteen years old. Holy shit.

He threw the handle towel he was drying himself with into a basket in front of the toilet, and shuffled back into his room. Falling onto the bed, he stared at the ceiling. This ceiling wasn't water damaged, however. It was cold, hard stone. And he couldn't help but compare it to his life. At the Dursleys he had been a dirty freak, damaged, like the ceiling. And here, he was alone and solitary, like a stone.

Groaning and covering his eyes with a pillow, he welcomed the blissful darkness it created. Dear Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?

Harry was awoken from his sleep by a steady beeping filling the room, much like the muggle alarm clock he had fixed three summers ago at the Dursley's. He searched for the offending object with his hand, finding only air. "Silencio," he commanded, but the noise didn't stop. "Shut up," he said between clenched teeth as the noise steadily increased in tempo and sound.

"For Merlin's sake! I'm up, I'm up!" Harry yelled to the room, jumping from the warm bed he was nestled in. The sound stopped as soon as his feet touched the floor, and Harry fell face first onto the bed once more. The sound started again. He bet Snape programmed this setting into the room, it was something evil and conniving and definitely Snape-like.

Slipping on a pair of socks, he opened his door and walked into the kitchen. Slytherin looked as though he was sleeping in his canvas, but he was a Slytherin. Slytherin was a Slytherin. Harry really needed to learn not to think in the mornings.

He poured himself a small cup of milk, finding a glass in the cabinets with a few plates and bowls. A refrigerator was to the far left of the cabinetry with an oven placed right in the middle. It wasn't a bad set-up, but it was tiny. The refrigerator was stocked very well with a few meals already pre-made and wrapped up, probably the work of one of the house elves.

He picked up one of the sandwiches and grabbed his glass of milk before plodding into the front room, collapsing onto the sofa. Gulping down the milk, he hastily ate the sandwich after looking at the clock and seeing it was nine in the morning. He had to be ready to meet Snape at ten.

After finishing, he showered and shaved, brushing his teeth and combing his hair when he was finished. He looked somewhat presentable when he- his hair somewhat tamed and lying flat on his scalp. He tucked in his oxford and slipped on a jumper, tying a Gryffindor tie around his neck and tightening it. It was as good as he was going to get for the time being.

Lying back on the couch after his morning tasks were complete, Harry opened his Transfiguration book and began reading the first chapter. It was probably a good idea to get a head start on his work, especially if they were going to force him to work during the school year. He used a muggle highlighter he had found on his desk to mark up the pages, ignoring the withering glare Slytherin was throwing him from the portrait.

"What are you up to?" The older man drawled, tapping a finger on the bottom of his canvas with narrowed eyes.

"Just Transfiguration. If I'm being forced to take responsibility, I'm going to make sure I have time to relax at some point in the next year. Why not get a head start on my work." He cringed at just how much he was sounding like Hermione. Oh, Hermione. Maybe it wasn't a good thing to think about his friends right now. Especially as their friendship was probably null and void at the moment.

"Relaxation is for those without immediate responsibilities. You, Mr. Potter, will not be relaxing this year if any of the Professors have anything to say about it."

"Y'know, Professor, I don't understand why everyone is placing the sole blame with me. It doesn't matter what I say, it is my fault completely for something Ginny seems to have full memory of. Strange, isn't it? Why do I not remember a thing." He didn't say it as a question, nor was he expecting an answer. The portrait was getting pretty damn annoying though, and he was pretty sure it was going to get old pretty damn fast.

"Well, Potter, it looks like you'll have to buck up like the Gryffindor you are and get your act together. Like it or not, this baby is yours. The circumstances will come to light, eventually."

Harry rolled his eyes and continued marking up his book, hoping he was absorbing more of the material than he thought he was.

When he was finished, he eyed the syllabus and made a small mark next to that Transfiguration assignment. The reading wasn't all too different from the OWL assigned reading, but he supposed there was more theory and vocabulary than the previous year. It delved more into the magic of transfiguration, why witches and wizards were able to manipulate the magical character of an object and turn it into what they wanted for a short time.

Reading further down the syllabus, Harry reminded himself to ask McGonagall for time to complete the quiz after the reading. He would start his essay when he returned in the afternoon from his "job-hunting" as he had begun calling it unknowingly within his mind. On second thought, maybe he should owl her about a time he could meet her. Better to not ask her to her face in light of recent events.

He penned a quick letter asking her for an hour to take the quiz, and folded it. He scribbled her name onto the front and walked over to the floo. He remembered seeing Mrs. Weasley send letters via the floo a couple of years ago before he went to the World Cup, and wondered if he could do the same thing.

He took a small pinch of powder between his forefinger and thumb, and threw it into the fire. "Professor McGonagall's Office- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Placing the letter in the flames, it vanished. If he didn't hear from her by the time he returned, he'd have to rewrite the letter and send Hedwig with it up to her office.

Coward, a voice sing-songed in the back of his mind. Harry groaned and fell back onto the couch, awaiting the arrival of his dreaded Potion's Professor.

He must have fallen back asleep because he definitely would have dodged the stream of freezing cold water drenching his clothing and face if he had been somewhat aware of his surroundings. Sitting up, he sputtered at his glowering Potion's Professor for a moment before angrily growling and stomping away into his room.

Using a dry hand towel, he moped the water off of his face and attempted to dry his clothes slightly- to no avail. He exited the bathroom still glowering, picking up his wallet and wand off of his dresser before joining Snape in the living room.

"Your first interview is in fifteen minutes. Seeing as you fell asleep," he sneered the last two words, crossing his arms and glaring now ",we will need to take the floo to the Three Broomsticks and walk the rest of the way. I'm sure you are familiar with a floo?" He then angrily threw down floo powder and shoved Harry into the flames, causing him to lose his balance and stumble out onto the other side.

A second later, Snape attempted to step out of the grate, but was unable to as Harry had yet to move. He stumbled slightly, but gracefully composed himself before glaring even harder down at the teenager.

"Up, Potter," the dark man snarled, swiftly brushing past and out into the crisp summer morning. Harry hastily caught up, only having a few experiences around the small town and not wanting to get lost.

"The man that will be interviewing you is one of the finest Potion's makers in Europe. He is in need of an assistant five days a week for up to three hours a day, 11 sickles an hour as a starting wage."

Harry glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye, and cringed. He didn't look happy at all that Harry was being associated with someone that was more than likely a colleague of some sort. Well, he'd just have to deal with it. It would beat having to work out in the yard of the Dursley's all summer, and he'd be getting paid for this!

"What sort of work," Harry then paused and added, "Sir?" as an afterthought.

"Organizing and preparing ingredients, and perhaps looking after the shop when Master Gridlock is brewing. I've only commended your skills for working with particularly vile ingredients."

Oh no, Harry all too suddenly realized. Snape was basically setting him up for a paid detention. And he doubted Snape was getting nothing out of this partnership.

"So basically I'll be the grunge worker for a man too lazy to grind his own eye of newt?" Harry hissed, crossing his arms petulantly over his chest.

"When you come to have as much experience in the art of Potion Making, Potter, maybe then grinding newt livers will be so below you as well."

"So everytime we have a detention, preparing ingredients, they're for you? Because we're lower than you?"

The all too sadistic smirk that crossed Snape's facade was enough of an answer to that question, and Harry scowled further. Great, so bascially Snape used his detentions as slave labor, wait until Hermi-shit, why did his mind always go back to his friends? The ones that were probably plotting his demise at that very minute, especially Ron.

They arrived at a small shop nestled just off of the main street in a small, dark alleyway. A wooden sign creaked in the slight breeze, boasting the words "Gridlock's Apothecary- since 1953" crudely carved into the oak. Harry shivered at the sheer eeriness of the shop, but nonetheless gripped the handle and slipped into the shop after his Professor.

The openness of the shop surprised Harry, as did the organization of every ingredient. Live animals were kept in tanks in the very center of the room, an entire section being designated for serpentine ingredients. The parseltongue in him shivered at the thought of what those ingredients might entail, what he might have to do to harvest them. It would be like doling out torture to a helpless animal.

This time he physically did shiver, and moved on to join Snape near the register. He was conversing with an older gentleman wearing robes very similar to Snape himself. There was, however, no cloak buttoned below his neck nor were his sleeves as tight to his wrists as Snape's customary outfit was.

Standing just behind Snape's right shoulder, Harry was able to see just how haggard and overworked the older man before him was. He was leaning heavily on a cane and kept the other hand on the countertop to keep balance. One hand looked permanently scarred, perhaps burned a few years prior in a potion's incident. How was this man still a Potion's Master when he didn't look physically capable of even walking down the street?

"Mr. Potter, Master Gridlock. Jameson, Mr. Potter. He is the student I talked to you about in my letter." The man, Master Gridlock, eyed Harry as if he was a particularly nasty potion, eyeing him skeptically.

"Your Professor here says you have a knack for preparing the more nasty ingredients, is that true?" Harry straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, making eye contact with his perhaps future employer.

"Sir, I'm willing to help with just about anything," he said while attempting to reign in the small amount of pity interlaced with his words.

"And a parseltongue if I am correct? That could prove to be useful." The man was now smirking, crooked and gnarled teeth giving his face an almost monstrous look.

Harry gulped, inwardly cringing at his next words, "Yes sir."

The man's eyes narrowed now at his complacency. "What are your Potion's grades currently?"

Harry now winced, eyeing his Professor who looked all too smug. "Mediocre, at best."

Gridlock hummed to himself and moved to feed one of the snakes a live mouse. Harry had to shut his eyes as the snake swallowed the squealling mouse whole, but couldn't keep the frightened chirppings from the creature before it was eaten.

"Queasy, Potter?" Gridlock cackled, legitimently cackled. Harry was reminded of the wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz, now mentally cursing Dudley for having an obsession with that movie in the third grade.

"Some, sir."

Snape scoffed beside him, probably from the respectful means he was addressing the Potion's Master before him. Yeah, Snape, I can be respectful when I like, he mentally smirked to himself.

"Well, get used to it. The last assistant lasted two days before I had to fire him. Had an irrational fear of spiders."

Harry nodded once more, vowing to stay as quiet as possbile. He was sure he was the only sane person in the establishment at the moment, and that frightened him more than he liked.

"The shop is closed on Sundays, and you can have Mondays off. Tuesday through Saturday I expect you here at four in the afternoon and you'll leave at seven. If there is a schedule change, I'll let your Professor here know."

Harry nodded; is that all he would ever do in this man's presence?

"Pay," he hummed, drumming his fingers against a tank of live newts. Ugh. "Well, we'll start you out at eleven sickles per hour, almost two galleons a day. That should work." Snape nodded his head in agreement and put his hand into his cloak, taking out a parchment.

He scribbled down his hours in that slanted, miniscule print of his with an everlasting ink quill and his wage before folding the paper again and returning it to his pocket.

"I will have Mr. Potter here at four on the dot Tuesday afternoon. Is there a uniform?"

Was Snape being helpful? Harry was dazed for a moment as his Professor shot him a glance, causing Harry to look down at his feet in submission. He couldn't even mentally question his Potion's Professor without being chastised...

"His Hogwarts uniform, sans cloak, should work. Be sure to bring your Herbology smock in case I have you working in the garden." Harry's eyebrow quirked at the mention of a garden, but didn't comment. He nodded slowly before shuffling in place. Weren't either of them feeling uncomfortable in this situation?

Snape began conversing with Gridlock in a low voice, dismissing Harry. Harry began to walk around the tanks and habitats set up for the snakes and reptiles, gazing at a zebra striped boa in awe. He tapped the glass and hissed lowly in greeting, and both men behind him paused in their conversation, watching the teenager.

The snake lifted its head, moving so it was wrapped around the log in its enclosure, holding Harry's gaze.

"Are you a ssspeaker?" the Boa hissed, angling its head towards the human. Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets, and looked down on the creature.

"Yesss, what type are you?" Harry replied, looking for some sort of name plate around the cage.

"I am an Argentinan Zabor Boa, what are you?" Harry's eye twitched at the question, but decided to look up the species when he returned to Hogwarts. This snake may just be the only neutral friend he would have in the shop.

"I am a ssstudent. I will be nessting here." Nesting? What the fuck? Okay, maybe working didn't really translate over, but still, nesting? Really?

"You have young?" Harry gasped, taking a step back from the enclosure. Snape was at his side a moment later. "Did it bite you?" Harry shook his head silently, now glaring at the snake. Maybe it wasn't unusual for a snake to ask if another of its species has children, but really? Did he look like a father?

"It'sss not mine." Harry hissed back angrily, turning around and exiting the store without a backwards glance. How could a snake get him this angry, honestly? Okay, maybe it could have been the stress the teachers had forced upon him, oh and the fact that he was apparently going to be a father. Go figure that he was slightly angry at the world for once again screwing him over.

Taking a deep breath, Harry attempted to clear his mind. While he wasn't fabulous at occlumency, he had grasped the basic concept of holding onto an image and immersing himself in it. It wasn't a shield, persay, but rather an escape route, a way to calm his thoughts, his magic when it began to storm and build.

"Mr. Potter," the dark clad man behind him ground out, spinning the errant teenager around to face him once more. The look of sheer bliss and calm was not what he expected to find after the younger boy all but tantrumed in the entryway to his new employer's shop. "Explain."

"The snake," He calmly stated, rocking back onto his heels nonchalantly.

"Yes, and what did a reptile say to upset you so?"

Harry could tell the Professor was making an effot not to snap. The thought was almost laughable, he was trying to placate Harry.

"He said I have young," the almost ethereal voice stated, and Severus knew that if the boy was in his right mind he would not be admitting any of these details to the dour man before him.

"Young?" Might was well interrogate him if he was just going to stand there and answer so calmly, almost truthfully. Whatever the child was doing, was better than his best batch of veritaserum.

"Children, a child. I don't have a child."

"No, you do not have a child, yet. But you will in eight months time." Harry sighed and toyed with the sleeve of his jumper, continuing to rock back and forth.

"I don't want to though."

"What child wants a child of their own? This usually is not planned," the teacher voice was softer than he wanted it to be, but it couldn't be helped. He could see so much Lily in the boy at that moment- the wide green eyes, the nervous rocking, the fidgeting. It was almost surreal that he hadn't noticed it until now.

"If it is mine, I will care for it." The boy continued to speak so calmly, and Severus was now growing weary, what was happening to him? Had he finally snapped from the pressure that came with being the boy-who-lived, and perhaps one day the one to kill the Dark Lord? Perhaps this was shock finally setting in after the mutts death in the ministry two months prior.

"We are expected for lunch in the Great Hall. Come," the Professor motioned for the young man to follow behind him, pleased that the boy was respectful enough to achieve employed status after one interview. They would see how the boy prioritized his time and if he could physically handle more hours without being detrimental to his education.

He was almost happy, well he was never happy but this was a close enough comparison, that Potter hadn't found out that most of the masks the Professors were doning around him were fake. All of the women were concerned about the boy, that he would cave under the pressure. He was expected to train and become a war hero, not a father at sixteen.

They were angry, of course they had the right to be angry. The boy was barely old enough to take care of himself, and it had landed on all of the Professors and the Headmaster to make sure the boy matured enough by the end of the summer to do just that- learn to care for himself and eventually another living, breathing creature.

Snape himself was more concerned with the training and schooling of the boy. Even in the wizarding world, teenage parents normally were forced to drop out of school and leave their families. They were all but shunned from society, which explained the articles littering the front page of the Prophet. Their saviour had committed a cardinal sin in the eyes of the still conservative views on the Wizarding World.

The Professors would attempt to shield the boy from this animosity, but it would only be a matter of time before it reached the boy's ears. The Weasleys were furious that their youngest child had been impregnated at such a young age, and out of wedlock at that. The Wizengamot had already owled the Headmaster demanding for Potter's immediate expulsion, seeing as the act that impregnated Ms. Weasley took place under Hogwarts' confines.

The only reason the boy hadn't been expelled was because he had taken responsibility, or rather Dumbledore had said Harry was taking responsibility of the child. The child was also then put under guardianship of the entirety of the staff, given rooms extremely warded, and forced to a strict schedule. It was one a teenager shouldn't be put under, one that even an adult couldn't handle. But the Ministry would not take no for an answer, Potter would not have a minute of free time under the watchful eye of the Ministry.

The duo walked through Hogsmeade and up the path back to Hogwarts. The area had been secured earlier in the day to assure no photographers or reporters were there to greet them at their return. The gate to the school screeched shrilly as it was opened and then relatched, Snape casting extra wards just as a small safety precaution.

The boy was silent, more subdued than usual, on his walk back to the Great Hall. Much too calm for the Potion's Master's liking, but much more enjoyable to be around when he wasn't causing mischief.

Upon entering the rather large chamber, Severus did not see anything out of the ordinary. Only the small gasp alerted him to four extra visitors sitting around the head table, followed by the more than truthful proclamation from the teenager next to him, "Oh, shite."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter, indeed."

Harry was pushed towards the head table by the lanky haired Professor, shuffling his feet and averting his eyes. He could feel the negativity from across the hall, he was going to prolong his journey as long as possible to avoid the catastrophe waiting for him.

“You'll have to face them eventually, Potter,” Snape ground out from his right side, pushing Harry with slightly more force. Harry stumbled into his chair next to Professor McGonagall and kept his eyes on his cutlery. It was cowardly, but honestly anyone in his situation would be doing the same thing.

Harry reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes when Dumbledore cleared his throat, silencing the entire table and simultaneously freezing everyone as well.

“Do you not have anything to say, Harry?” Harry felt his face color as he was forced on the spot, and the piercing eyes of every Professor at the table caused him to tense up.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Ron.” By the end of his greeting, both of the elder Weasleys were are eerie shade of red, Ginny was completely blanched, and Ron was also staring at him with his eyes narrowed. Oh hell.

All of them remained silent and the awkward atmosphere of the hall was increased ten fold. Dumbledore was beaming from his position at the head of the table and crunching away on steamed carrots. The other Professors were also eating silently, some throwing not-so-secretive looks at one another.

Harry spooned some potatoes onto his plate as well as some grilled chicken before engrossing himself in his food. He could feel the heated looks still focused on him and ate at a steady pace without talking so as to finish and get out of there. He didn't even care that he was going to miss the lunch time pudding, he couldn't take this tension anymore.

“Professor McGonagall, did you receive my letter earlier?” Harry looked at her from beneath his eyelashes, attempting to keep his head ducked so as not to see the Weasley's in his peripheral vision.

“Yes, we can go to my classroom after lunch and you may take the quiz.” Harry nodded solemnly, so he wasn't going to be able to skip out of the room because now he had to stay to complete some work.

“You are having him complete work early? And what will he do during the school year? You promised he would help take care of our Ginny, Albus,” Mrs. Weasley proclaimed, throwing her napkin onto the table and glaring at Harry. He shrank back into his chair, making himself look as small as possible.

“Harry has already gone to one interview this morning and received an offer of employment. He has another interview in two days time with the owner of Honeyduke's I believe.” Dumbledore glanced towards Snape, and Snape nodded slightly.

“Oh, a job?” The matriarch gasped, gazing at Harry now without as much hostility. Harry shrugged and remained looking down at his plate.

“He will be working from Tuesdays to Saturdays from four in the afternoon until seven in the evening. Eleven sickles an hour, just under ten galleons a week.” Arthur nodded slightly now, focusing on his food. Harry was surprised that Ron hadn't said anything throughout the meal, but he didn't expect him to in front of all the Professors.

When everyone was finished with their food, and another awkward silence had overtaken the room, Harry excused himself to the loo before his quiz. When he exited the bathroom, he was surprised to see Ron leaning against the opposite wall.

“Hey,” Harry whispered, avoiding his best friend's eyes.

“Hey.”

Harry shuffled in place nervously, absentmindedly rubbing his left hand over his right arm out of nerves.

“I can't believe this,” Ron said, now watching him with a hardened gaze.

“I know, it's crazy. I don't know how it happened, or even really when, but I'm not going to just up and leave your sister, I promise,” Harry proclaimed, raising his chin and stiffening his shoulders.

Ron just continued to watch him, and Harry felt like a bug being scrutinized.

“I don't know what to say to make you believe me when I say I didn't want anything like this, I don't even recall having sex with Ginny.” Ron flinched at the mention of his sister being with Harry, but held the other boy's gaze.

“That doesn't excuse it. You shouldn't have had sex with her in the first place. She's just fifteen-” “And I'm almost sixteen and was basically hauled out of the Dursley's, told I had fathered a child, and forced now to go to school and work as much as possible to support another human being. I didn't want this.”

“Ginny didn't either, you've basically ruined her reputation, made her look like a slut,” Ron sneered, moving threateningly towards Harry. Harry took a step back and encountered a wall.

“Everyone seems concerned about Ginny, but Ginny is the only one that remembers anything happening. She isn't having to work, she's basically being coddled while I am being forced to take full responsibility. It's complete shite!” Harry shouted, smacking the wall with the palm of his hand. “I didn't ask for this! How many times can I say that before someone believes me! How do I know I'm not giving up my life for the baby to basically not be mine! At least I'm taking responsibility while she's hiding away,” Harry continued, mimicking Ron's sneer.

“Maybe it's because they're tired of letting you get off scott free, have you ever thought about that? You get away with everything and the one time you're forced to own up to a mistake, you blame someone else.” Harry was shocked at his friend's words, and looked as though he'd been physically hit. Ron, registering the look on Harry's face, took a step back, shocked. “I-I didn't mean that, I'm-” “No, you're right.”

Harry turned his back to his friend- ex friend- he told himself, walking back towards the Great Hall.

“It's my fault Cedric died, it's my fault Sirius died, it's my fault that my parents were killed when I was a baby and that I'm this fucked up because of it. I'm sorry that I've apparently pushed all of my bad luck onto your sister. I'll stay away if you really want me to.” He sounded as if he were going to cry, and took a deep breath to compose himself. He left the red head standing behind him and continued walking, hands in his pockets.

It wasn't his fault that he had been dealt a life of hardships. And at that, Ron basically was saying that he pushed all of his issues towards Ginny. Ginny knew what she was getting into when she they had gotten together, that her life would be full of drama if the press couldn't help it.

She knew that people would questions her, be envious of her for her position. It wasn't him being over-confident or full of himself, it was just the way that the Wizarding World acted. He was hoisted onto a pedestal, ridiculed when the public wanted him to be, boasted as a savior the next second. He didn't want to be in the limelight anymore, negative or positive. He just wanted to be Harry Potter, an average teenager that was average at school and had an average family. Average, that was what he wanted the most out of his life.

It was at that moment that Harry decided, whether he was going to be a key part in this baby's life or not, that it was going to have an average life. He would be his Daddy and Ginny his Mummy, and he or she wouldn't have to care about the paparazzi. Harry would defeat Voldemort, and give this child a future that is bright, one that was infinitely better than Harry's own.

Walking back into the entrance hall, the Weasleys were quietly conversing with Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. Harry stood off to the side, leaning against a wall, staring at the expanse of stone that used to hold Umbridge's ridiculous decrees. He was slouched there for not a minute when Ginny approached him nervously, fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt.

He watched her curiously, wondering what her first move would be. Would she apologize? No, and even if she did he wouldn't be able to accept it fully. Would she yell at him for her condition? Probably not, seeing as now all of the teachers and her parents were watching her approach. Mrs. Weasley looked ready to attack him, which caused him to sigh and push off the wall and walk away from Ginny.

She paused, staring at her boyfriend, her child's father, plotting her next step. Would he blame her? She wouldn't blame him, she should have used the protective spells she had read up on before they had ever messed around. Would he be angry that she had let herself become pregnant? Probably, especially because she had taken advantage of him, almost, when he was emotionally unstable. She saw her brother move into the hall, looking from the group of adults to Harry and Ginny, looking lost and regretful. What had he done?

Harry walked away, something that neither the parents or Ginny had been expecting. He didn't even look back when she whispered his name, probably not meaning for him to hear.

“I don't want to talk to you right now.”

He heard her gasp, but couldn't even call up the will to turn around and face his girlfriend- were they even together anymore? How could they be after this entire thing? A healthy relationship couldn't run on mistrust and the knowledge that a baby was on the way, that would be the only reason they would be together.

“What about me?” She cried, and this time he did turn around, pausing with one foot on the marble staircase with the intention of waiting outside McGonagall's classroom to take his quiz.

His hand tightened on the rail, and he balled his other hand into a fist. “What about me?” he echoed before turning and taking the stairs two at a time until he disappeared into the passageway on the right.

Ginny stood there silent for a moment, not caring when tears began to trickle down her cheeks and plopped soundlessly onto the floor. She felt her Mum pat her shoulder and lead her over to the group of teachers who were explaining the work she needed to accomplish over the summer to keep up and not get too far behind come March when the baby was due.

“Harry's doing this too?” She questioned in a meager voice, arms crossed in front of her and shoulders slightly hunched.

The teachers looked to Dumbledore who nodded and smiled. “He has agreed to get as much work done as possible so as to have plenty of time to provide for you and the baby.”

“Then why am I not doing anything? He shouldn't be the only one having to work, the baby is mine too.”

Madame Pomfrey bustled over to the teenager, smiling and patting her shoulder. “Yes, but you will soon feel the little one's presence and it will be difficult for you to get out of bed somedays, let alone carry the burden of a part time job.”

And now she knew why Harry was resenting her so much if he was surrounded by people that thought along these lines. She was the defenseless little girl forced to grow up too soon, they didn't seen her as the young woman she was. She shook her head and moved away from Pomfrey's coddling.

“I want to work for the first few months at least. He's already given up so much of his life, he shouldn't have to give up more without me making sacrifices as well.” The women of the group surrounding her looked scandalized, but she held firm. If Harry was going to work, she was going to as well.

Dumbledore looked to Snape who was eyeing the youngest Weasley critically. Perhaps he had misjudged her, perhaps it was Molly who was in fact having a hard time coming to terms with this new development. Miss Weasley had matured since this discovery, she had come to accept that her life would never be the same, but she wasn't going to let that fact stop her, break her will. If only Potter would take a note out of her book, Severus' life would be much easier.

“Perhaps, I can speak to my contacts and find a suitable job for Miss Weasley if she wishes.”

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, popping a lemon drop into his mouth before ascending the staircase towards his office. The group dispersed then, the Weasleys going towards Dumbledore's office as well to floo home.

Snape and McGonagall turned towards each other, both internally sighing as they also ascended the staircase to deal with a certain black haired teenager that took teenage angst to an entirely different level.

He was waiting outside of the classroom silently, his eyes closed and chin resting lazily against his neck in sleep. Severus had suspected he hadn't slept much the night before, but to fall asleep against a wall was entirely unacceptable.

“Potter, get in.” The teenager groaned, lifting his head slowly and flushing at seeing his Professors watching him. He shuffled into the room, hands in his pockets and eyes lowered towards the ground.

The teen sat at a desk facing the front of the room while McGonagall sat behind her desk and Snape leaned against the sturdy wood with his arms crossed.

“You upset Miss Weasley,” Snape deadpanned, narrowing his eyes when all he could see was the top of that unruly mop of hair.

Harry shrugged, placing his hands on the wood and fiddling with his fingers. “She's pregnant, hormones or something,” he mumbled, blushing at the end of the answer.

Minerva coughed to hide a small laugh and Severus smirked.

“She has agreed to take on a part-time job as well for the first few months of the pregnancy, which will significantly help your financial situation.” Harry's eyebrows knitted together as he realized he still had his parents' money in his Gringott's vault.

“What about my vault? That could support us for a while, at least get the baby some things.”

Snape seemed to look thoughtful as if he were mentally calculating something. Did Snape know exactly how much was in his vault?

“That vault was designed to support you until you are done with your schooling. You will not come to inherit the Potter vault until you are twenty-one, a small stipulation your mother had thought to put on the vault.” Harry didn't even know he was going to be receiving another vault, he thought the one he had was all the money his parents had left him.

“While the Potter vault is located in Gringotts it also doesn't carry a substantial amount of actual money, rather holding family heirlooms that have been passed down from generation to generation,” Snape added, tapping a finger against the oak of McGonagall's desk slowly.

Harry nodded again, waiting for one of his Professors to continue. He just wanted to take this stupid quiz and leave, it was turning into more trouble than he thought it would.

“Therefore, as such, you may have enough to furnish the baby's nursery before its arrival, but nothing more. You would have nothing left to take care of Miss Weasley and yourself the following year, nor would that even take into account the baby's other essentials.”

Harry cringed realizing just how much he did need to work. Him and Ginny may not be on the best of terms, but for the baby's sake, and this little makeshift family's sake, he would have to make it work.

“Pregnant women aren't supposed to do a lot though, right? I don't suspect there are many jobs in Hogsmeade that she can just sit, or something.” Harry was genuinely curious, because even if the baby was unexpected, it was still his responsibility. He didn't want Ginny or the baby getting hurt, or worse.

Snape retrieved a parchment from his robes, the same one he had written Harry's hours on earlier that day. He perused the paper for a moment for nodding slightly to himself.

“There is a counter job at Honeydukes that may be satisfactory, but we would have to talk to the owner and set restrictions on Miss Weasleys movement.” Harry hesitantly nodded, a small smile finding his lips. Maybe they could do this whole parenting thing after all.

Snape stood then, putting the parchment back into its pocket, nodded to McGonagall, and then disappeared into the floo.

“Now, Mr. Potter, you sent me a message about a quiz over the first chapter?” Harry nodded at his Head of House, still remembering the animosity she had been harboring towards him over the past two days.

She nodded and went through a folder, producing a single sheet of paper with questions on it.

“This should take you about thirty minutes, forty-five if you take your time. You may begin.”

Harry nodded, dipping his quill into an ink pot and filling out the sheet. It was much simpler than he thought it would be. He didn't expect to retain that much information as Slytherin had been interrupting him all that morning with his inane questions and talking. He had a feeling he was going to get sick of that portrait very quickly.

Finishing in thirty-five minutes, Harry handed in the parchment and waited for McGonagall to grade it. She gave him an Acceptable, marking the grade down into a small notebook beside his name, and sending him on his way.

Walking back to his rooms, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to his conversations with both Ginny and Ron. Perhaps he had been wrong about Ginny, she seemed one hundred percent sure that he was the father, she hadn't cheated on him. But then why didn't he remember anything? He put a hand to his forehead, rubbing at the curse scar adorning his skin. Was Voldemort behind this? Or maybe someone else entirely set on ruining his life?

And then Ron, he didn't even know what to think about his ex-best friend. Ron had seen how distraught he had been over Sirius' death, as had Hermione. The fact that his friend still had to be a prat, blame him for things he couldn't even control, was disgusting. Ron had witnessed his moments of weakness, his treatment at the Dursleys, but he seemed to forget about those hardships when he was angry at something Harry had done. And who was he to judge Harry anyway? Ron wasn't necessarily a saint either.

It was stupid, but he was hurt that Ron hadn't believed him. Not that he expected him to side with Harry instead of Ginny, but he expected his friend to hear him out. Especially after the Triwizard Tournament when he had known Harry hadn't put his name in the Goblet, but he had still acted as though Harry was the bane of his existence. It was going to be the same.

A cold chill ran down Harry's spine at yet another realization- the school was going to shun him again. This would be exactly like the Triwizard Tournament, but this time they would see him denying he was the father and ridicule him. They would see Ginny's belly growing and despise him further, especially when they realized just how difficult it was going to make everyone's lives.

He had seen the article in the Prophet, and he would bet that there would be many more. They would analyze every action he took, put him through hell, and in the end when they realized they were wrong they would just find something else about him to gossip about.

When would this end? This need for the public to scrutinize a sixteen year old because they had nothing better to do. Would it be when he was killed in his final battle with Voldemort? No, people would flood towards the Prophet and tell of their intimate relationships that never actually existed with the “hero”. They would use him to become famous, or as close to fame as they could. It was sickening.

He raised a hand to his scar once more and entered his rooms, plopping down onto the couch. All because of that stupid scar, they would never leave his life alone. They would continue to push and prod him, force him to be someone he wasn't.

As he curled up and slowly fell asleep, he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be just Harry, a teenager with no expectations, or better yet, with no child on the way.

While waking up at 7:00 in the morning would irk many teenagers, especially during the summer, Harry was awake and dressed, waiting until 7:30 to appear for breakfast. There hadn’t been breakfast foods in the charmed refrigerator in his rooms, so assumed he was expected to meet in the Great Hall to dine with the Professors.

Slytherin’s portrait was eyeing him warily, watching him as he moved around his little flat. He was moving his textbooks from his trunk to the bookcase beside the fireplace, sorting them by year and putting the battered books he’d procured from Dudley on the top shelves.

Finished with that, Harry hung his school robes and folded his hand-me-downs, tucking them in the bottommost drawers of the small cupboard he’d been given. Now that his trunk was empty, he noticed just how barren his room was and sighed. At least he wouldn’t be expecting visitors anytime soon, and the baby surely wouldn’t complain about his lack of decorations.

Thinking of the baby, his stomach flipped and he felt sick. Today would be the first day working at Master Gridlock’s Apothecary, and while he’d mentally prepared himself for the detention-like job, he was not so used to the idea that he was going to be a father. His head still ached dully whenever he tried to prod his memory to divulge the events that got him into this mess, but if Snape hadn’t had any luck, Harry probably would never complete the task himself.

Harry felt his wristwatch vibrate and then beep, alerting him that it was time to leave for the Great Hall. It was not a long walk, and very peaceful. The corridor attached to a courtyard, much smaller than the main courtyard at the heart of the school. A small pond was situated in the center, a stone bench beside the water with trees dotted around to completely shade the area. As Harry passed he couldn’t help but imagine sitting in solitude completing his assignments, enjoying the feeling of peace that surrounded the garden.

The Great Hall was barely two corridors away, and he wondered how he hadn’t stumbled across the courtyard before. Walking through the double doors, all conversation ceased at the table, eyes on him. He resisted the urge to turn around and go back to his rooms, complete his assignments and try again at lunch. But Snape’s eyes narrowed as if he knew what he was thinking, and yeah he probably did if Harry was being honest with himself, and nodded towards the open seat beside Professor McGonagall.

Quietly taking his seat, he avoided making eye contact with all of his Professors, tuning out the whispered conversations between the colleagues. Scrambled eggs, two pieces of bacon, and a piece of buttered toast was slowly devoured, his stomach satiated after finishing only half of the plate. It was always like this when he returned from the Dursleys, his stomach unable to handle too much of the rich foods served at Hogwarts. He sat back in his chair, lifting his head for the first time since the beginning of the meal.

They were discussing the first year required materials, debating whether or not to add certain things or take away others. When they noticed Harry was paying attention, Snape cleared his throat and turned towards the teenager.

“You will be escorted to Hogsmeade at 3:00. Until then you are to work on school work, or discuss personalized study plans with your professors. Starting next week you will alternate between Herbology, Potions, and Care of Magical Creatures lessons at the beginning of the day. The afternoon, until your shift at the apothecary, will be used to study. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry fidgeted in his seat at the stern glares being sent at him from various teachers, and as if on cue the entire group began to move away from the table.

“If I may discuss some things, Harry?” Dumbledore guided him to the Entrance Hall, pausing before the Grand Staircase.

“Of course, sir.” They moved through the lower level corridors towards Harry’s rooms, stopping in the courtyard Harry had found not thirty minutes prior. They sat on the bench, and Harry patiently waited for the Headmaster to begin. He had nothing he wanted to say, nothing anyone would believe him about anyway.

“I must apologize, Harry. This must be very sudden for you, and while we have had to rush some things, I do not want you to fall to the wayside.”

Harry remained silent, fiddling with the sleeve of his robes.

“You are a priority here, you must understand. Your guardianship was transferred to your Professors so a large portion of the burden would fall on them. Professor Snape especially is determined that you will successfully graduate in two years time.”

Harry looked at him skeptically, Snape couldn’t give a rats arse if he graduated, in fact, the Professor would probably be all too happy to fail him in his seventh year out of spite.

“I highly doubt that, sir.” He said instead, not wishing to cause too much tension but make it known that he was unhappy. Not that he was ever happy, but no one really seemed to care.

“In the following months I hope we are able to change your mind. Until then, know that you may seek any one of your Professors, or even myself, out if you are in need of assistance. Our doors are always open.”

Harry sat in the fresh air for some time after Dumbledore left, the sun warming him as it rose higher and higher in the sky. While one would expect his thoughts to be jumbled and tumultuous, he felt calm and collected for the first time since school let out. Whether it be acceptance or shock, well that was still to be determined. But peacefully blank was better than depressed, the heavy feeling lifting away from him for the moment.

He startled when the bell chimed 10, mentally berating himself for sitting outside for two hours. He didn’t have time to waste yet here he was, squandering it away. Maybe Snape was right. Maybe he was lazy and arrogant and how the hell did they expect him to raise a child?

Shuffling back to his chambers, Slytherin scoffed at him from his portrait, flipping a page in the book he was apparently reading and looking at him over his spectacles. Harry didn’t comment, placing a pillow on the floor with three of his textbooks, notebooks and parchment in hand. He opened his History of Magic book first, writing the first assignment on his specialized syllabus on the top margin and beginning the reading. It took him an hour to get through it, Merlin’s Order being an interesting topic but dully written by the awful author Binns always required. His notes took up three notebook pages, but his parchment was completely blank.

He finally began working on his assignment, the first sentences stilted as he began to summarize and elaborate on certain points with his past knowledge, but flowing after the first paragraph. When he glanced at the clock above the fireplace, he was surprised to see it was 12:30. Lunch was not an option, especially after being ignored earlier that morning. While he didn’t expect the teachers to socialize with him, he didn’t think they’d treat him like a social pariah. Maybe he could ask the elves for some fruit to keep in the kitchen so he would only have to attend dinner, everyone would surely appreciate that.

He continued working, completing the History assignment and finishing his reading for Potions when Snape walked in through Slytherin’s portrait. Harry startled, dropping his inked quill on his parchment and glaring at the instrument, he’d have to re-write the first portion in order for it to be legible or risk Snape’s wrath when he finally did turn it in.

“Potter,” Snape sneered, glowering at Harry with crossed arms. It almost slipped Harry’s mind that he was working at the Apothecary today, his first day on the job. Harry jumped up, running to grab the cloak and herbology smock he’d folded on the side table earlier that morning. Snape narrowed his eyes further, but didn’t comment.

“I’m ready, sir.”

The walk to the main gates was silent, Snape always one step ahead of him and not sparing him a glance.

Harry wondered if this is how it’d be from now on. People leading him here or there, not bothering to talk to him because he wasn’t worth the time or aggravation. Perhaps it’d be better that way, acting invisible. It wasn’t as if people didn’t do that at their own convenience. Harry was easily shoved away or pushed to the side whenever it suited anyone else, what would make this situation any different?

Almost to the shop, Harry startled slightly when Snape began speaking, “You will be respectful to Master Gridlock at all times. He is not just your employer, he is my colleague. As my charge you are expected to be the perfect employee, especially with my ringing endorsement.” He spit out the words ringing endorsement as if they were a curse, and Harry could imagine the other man’s lips curled in disgust. Harry remained silent, it’d seemed to be working, why not keep it up?

“This is the one time, Potter, when it is imperative that you do not mess this opportunity up. Am I clear?”

Harry picked up his pace as the Apothecary came into view, mumbling the words yes sir under his breath. A hand falling on his shoulder made him jump, memories of this past summer with Uncle Vernon forcing themselves to the forefront of his mind. He looked up to meet Snape’s eyes, surprised at the conflicted look he’d never before seen on his Professor. The light squeeze of his shoulder confused him further before Snape’s hand fell away and back into the confines of his dark robes. “I will be back at 7:00, Master Gridlock knows to contact me if there are any issues.”

Harry nodded and moved away, the bell above the door ringing annoyingly and the floorboards creaking as he entered.

Master Gridlock was seated behind the register scribbling in a leather-bound journal, barely lifting his eyes away from the paper to acknowledge Harry. He pointed to a large crate, similar to one used to transport milk, but lined with potions instead.

“You will be doing inventory today. You’ll start by restocking the Household section,” He pointed to the wall to the left of the register “, sorting out the potions from the crate first and then going through each display to determine how much is in stock. Write it in this journal, potion name and quantity in each given column. Let me know when that is finished.”

Harry got to work, placing potions designed to clean and sanitize bathrooms and kitchen, scented oils and medicinal candles with potion bases. He didn’t realize just how many potions there were to use around the house, stupidly on his part seeing as muggles had found ways to do it, why not wizards?

The leather journal Gridlock had given him was easy enough to understand, extra spaces beside each quantity that would self-update as product was sold. It took three pages of the journal and two hours to check and double-check his numbers, not wanting to screw up on his first day. His arms were sore from constantly having to lift some of the heavier flasks to the highest shelves, and his neck was no better, but finally, at 6:30, that section was completely organized and inventoried. The extra 30 minutes was used to align all of the bottles, fitting 15 to each individual wooden shelf. Each wall had three columns of six shelves in each, the sheer amount of potions staggering as everything was re-stocked. He moved price tags to reflect the potions above them, and dropped the empty crate beside the counter, brushing his hands on his slacks.

Gridlock had disappeared into the back of the store an hour before, telling him that there were orders to complete and to find him if he had any questions. The quiet old man surprised him, while still cold in demeanor he was being patient with Harry and not pushing him to go faster. He seemed to appreciate the care Harry was taking, and in turn Harry made sure to complete the task to the best of his ability.

He popped his head into the back storeroom, not surprised to see a fully stocked potions lab with bubbling cauldrons lined up on one sturdy table at the back. The Master was moving between all four, arriving seconds before the timers in front of the potions would go off and moving to the next potion just in time. It was amazing to watch, mesmerizing him. When Gridlock switched off the fires to two of the potions and set the timers to the following day for the other two, Harry moved forward to ask for his next task.

“Sir, I finished organizing the Household potions.”

Gridlock hummed lowly, turning slowly and limping towards his cane. He walked past Harry and to the front of the store, looking at Harry’s handiwork and nodding to himself.

“Well done, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow you will do the same with the personal care potions. The crate will be waiting beside the register if I am in the back. For now, please fetch the post from the front of the store, there is a letterbox beside the door. I will sort orders from personal mail, and you will record the names of the clients, their orders, and urgency. Prescriptions or other such requests with a mediwizards signature should be placed in a separate pile and I will deal with those myself.”

Harry nodded and fetched the post, surprised at the large stack of letters waiting for him. Gridlock waved his wand and the letters sorted themselves, only two or three missives being for Gridlock himself, the other ones being for Harry to sort.

He worked quickly, not wanting Snape to wait for him. Half of the letters had something to do with prescriptions so Harry set aside, the others he jotted down the type of potion, quantity of potion, and the person ordering said potion, working through his stack quickly.

The bell above the door ringing startled him out of his daze. He blinked blearily at his Professor, only just then glancing at the clock to see it was indeed 7:10. He hoped the man hadn’t waited outside, Harry being oblivious to anything except the task he’d been given.

Gridlock walked back in from the storeroom, nodding his head at Snape and looking towards Harry. “You are free to go Mr. Potter. Same time tomorrow.” Harry nodded, pulling his cloak on and taking his bundled up Herbology smock with him as teacher and student left.

“He seemed to find your work satisfactory.”

“Yes, sir.” Less was more when it came to Snape, and he didn’t wish to find himself in trouble for getting smart with the Professor.

“Dinner will be served in your rooms. The house elves informed me that you missed lunch, that will not happen again.” Snape’s voice was hard, leaving no room for arguments.

“Sir?”

“While at Hogwarts you will eat three meals a day, as they are served in the Great Hall or in your rooms. We do not need you getting sick, Potter.”

Meaning Snape didn’t want to take care of him if he was sick, probably because Harry was enough of an unwanted burden on him already. Madame Pomfrey would probably scoff at him if he went to her for any problem, probably thinking he was slacking off or shirking his responsibilities. Whatever.

“I won’t get sick, sir.”

Snape looked at him skeptically, his nostrils flaring before he turned onto the path to Hogwarts. It was a silent walk again, and a few times it even looked like Snape was going to say something, but nothing.

Harry should have found the silence stifling, but now it was normal. The quiet shop, the quiet meals, he would grow used to it. He just wished he had someone that didn’t think he was a complete waste of space. Even the Weasleys had made it clear he was nothing to them, Ron’s harsh words causing his heart to squeeze uncomfortably in his chest.