Harry Potter was easily the smallest boy in their year. He hated being the shortest, and hated that he had to sit in the front row in order to see what the professors were writing on the blackboards, not only because his glasses didn't help him see much, but also becuase he couldn't see over the heads of the other students. The only class he ever sat in the back in was Charms becuase the seats in the back were raised. Harry had a feeling that Flitwick liked it that way, knowing what it was like not being able to see. Granted, Harry wasn't quite that small, but he felt dwarfed by Ron and Draco, who were both four inches taller than he was. Even Hermione was gargantuan compared to him.

Harry tugged at his foot hopelessly and wished he'd been more careful. As it was he was stuck in one of the trick steps on the third floor and it was already an hour past curfew. He was supposed to be in the common room right now enjoying a game of chess with Ron or trying to fend of Hermione as she badgered them to study for their Potions test tomorrow.

In the distance Harry heard a door slam, and was given a renewed determination to free himself at the thought that Filch or Snape might find him there and give him a detention. He'd already served three this year and school had only been back in for two weeks. Struggling hard, Harry was dismayed to find that his entire leg was now trapped all the way up to his crotch, and he was being pinched in more than one painful place.

"Urgh," he grunted in pain. His leg was already bruised from where Dudley had pushed him down the stairs, and from where Draco had kicked him on his way to class in the corridor yesterday, and he hated to think of the damage that would be done to it now.

There was another noise in the distance, but Harry wasn't paying attention as he continued to struggle. He thought he felt something brush his leg down inside the staircase and panic gripped him suddenly Snape a forgotten worry. What was under these staircases anyway? It was all just a bottomless pit as far as he was concerned, though Dumbledore had warned them not to wander the halls at night becuase there might be... things lurking.

As something brushed him again, Harry stilled momentarily, trying to discern any clue as to what it might be, but as he felt the thing for a third time he gasped and began using his free leg for what little leverage he could gain there on the winding staircase.

Harry was so consumed with his task to free himself and his panic and pain at his pinched members that he didn't notice a tall form appear at the top of the stairs behind him, just watching.

"Come on, come on," Harry begged the darkness, willing his leg to be free as something touched his ankle for a fourth time. "Please, I'll do anything."

"Anything Potter?"

Harry froze, hoping that if he sat still and quiet enough that he would just disappear into the shadows and that Snape would forget he was there at all.

"I'm waiting for an answer Potter," the man's shadow drawled impatiently, and Harry shuddered. One enemy was behind him, and another below. He felt like something was right up against his foot now and he wondered if he would have been able to feel the things breath if he weren't wearing pants and socks.

Without warning, Harry began to jerk wildly, startling the man behind him momentarily, which was a feat in itself.

"GAAAAAHHHHH!" With a huge tug, Harry forcefully ripped his leg free, and gasped at the pain as the trap stair slammed back into place against the other stones. He knew it was bleeding, but he didn't want to look as he lay back on the stairs breathing heavily, just trying to calm himself. Ever since what had happened over the summer, he'd felt panicky, not that having a monster under the stairs and up above him had helped.

In, and out, in and out.

"Potter! What is going through that dunderhead of yours?"

Harry's head snapped up as Snape's wand flickered to life with a bright light above him, and panick gripped him again. No, he was in trouble again.

Thinking only of his warm bed and escaping future detention, Harry took off down the stairs as fast as his leg would allow him, and he knew that Snape was close behind him. No, he didn't need another walloping, he thought.

Behind him Harry heard a strangled noise as if Snape might have fallen into one of the trick steps, but he didn't look back, and continued to limp as fast as he could to the bottom of the staircases and then around a corner and down a short side hall.

There was nothing down this dark hall except for a classroom that the seventh years used to study, and as Harry slid down the wall to the floor at the end, he hoped to hide in the shadows. One minute passed, two, three, and finally he saw Snape jog past the end of the hall without so much as a look for Harry down at the end. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and drew his injured leg up to himself.

Thinking he'd better wait a few minutes just to be sure the horrible man was gone, Harry waited until he was sure he was safe. If he could only get back to his bed then he could forget what had happened tonight, at least until the man found him tomorrow, though he knew he'd rather face him then. It was much better to face him in the daylight when he was surrounded by teachers and students than in the darkness alone, when he was vulnerable.

Finally Harry ginergly got to his feet and limped down the short hall, but the moment he stepped out into the larger corridor, a swift hand grabbed the back of his robes and Harry shut his eyes tight. He was trapped again.

"Potter! You're more of a fool than I thought! What was going through that head of yours?"

Harry didn't answer. It was one of those trick questions he knew he'd get smacked for. Uncle Vernon liked those kinds of questions best.

"Insolent little fool. You refuse help when it's readily available and then run off when you're injured?"

"Please sir."

Snape only growled in response. "Follow me, now."

He still had hold of Harry's robes up near his neck, and Harry knew he didn't have a choice but to obey or else face consequences that he'd rather not. He followed Snape into the darkness, and down to the dungeons.

The dungeons were different at night.

Cold and damp. Completely deserted.

And dark...

Granted, they were always poorly lit, but somehow, the knowledge that beyond the castle’s exterior, the sun had set, made everything seem more sinister. Even the stone walls, as though sensing the sun’s abandonment, seemed to huddle closer together to create narrower passages that led to nowhere good.

Despite Harry’s own growing discomfort, a sidelong glance at his teacher confirmed that Snape was not bothered by the unpleasant conditions. Marching purposefully down the corridors as if he had them memorized by heart, the solitary man maybe even preferred them.

Harry swallowed nervously, attempting to contain the building panic in his stomach. His leg smarted something awful and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to be anywhere else—a memory of Uncle Vernon’s puce face popped into his head—well, almost anywhere else.

Why didn't he watch his step? Why hadn’t he waited for Ron to finish his dinner in the first place? And why...why did it have to be Snape who found him?

The man in question tugged impatiently at the neck of Harry’s robes when his injured leg failed to keep pace with his professor’s long strides, and Harry struggled to catch up, eyes searching desperately for a quick escape.

They took a sharp turn down an unlit, unfamiliar corridor, and panic surged anew within him. Just what sort of punishment did Snape have in mind? They traveled a short distance before coming to an abrupt stop.

Harry heard Snape muttering quietly followed by the distinct sound of a door being unlatched, and Harry knew with a terrible sinking feeling exactly what was to happen next. Snape was going to lock him in the dungeons! Alone and in the dark. It was Privet Drive all over again, and no one would know where he was or what had happened to him and he would scream and claw at the walls, but no one would come for him!

By the time Snape flooded the hallway in light with a sharply cast Lumos, Harry had worked himself into such a miserable state of internal frenzy that he was fighting to hold onto the meager amount of food he had managed  to consume at dinnertime.

Snape peered down his hooked nose at him, an unrecognizable emotion twisting his features into  something akin to a grimace.

 “What’s the matter with you, Potter?” It seemed an immense struggle for the man to suppress the irritation in his tone.

Harry chanced a glance at him, squinting in the wandlight. His mouth floundering for words, before finally resorting to begging, though he knew it was futile. “Please, sir! Don’t  do this!”

“What is it you think I’m going to do?” Snape asked dubiously.

“Leave me alone in there...”

“Leave you unattended in my private quarters?” Snape pronounced incredulously, only to continue in a slow, deliberate tone. “Over my dead body.”

Harry thought there was something wrong with him when he found those words oddly comforting. Still, the humiliation at his overreaction burned at his cheeks, and he could only hope Snape hadn’t noticed, or that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. At Hogwarts, the latter was probably more likely.

In his shame, Harry allowed himself to be deposited into a sparse sitting room, while Snape disappeared into a pantry off the kitchen.

“Hang on, why did you bring me here?”

Mortification gave way to indignation as Harry pictured himself being made to scrub the dungeon bat’s private toilet. How delighted the man must be to have witnessed the-boy-who-lived running away like a sniveling ickle baby.

Snape reappeared with a handful of jars and tins and a washcloth. “I foolishly assumed you’d rather hobble the short distance to my private potions stores, than take three flights of stairs to the hospital wing with a mangled leg.”

“Oh.” That was actually...considerate of the greasy git. Harry was instantly suspicious.

As if the situation couldn’t get any more bizarre, the Potions Master actually crouched down in front of him to examine his injured leg. It was Harry’s first look at the damage, as well, so he allowed the intrusion. He wasn’t surprised to see the blood soaking into the elastic of his sock, he had felt as much on the trip down here, but he hadn’t expected to see the long scratches that stretched from knee to ankle.

How had that happened?

The sight of the wound made him a bit queasy,  and Harry had seen some real doozies in his day.

“Um, Professor, maybe I should go see Madam Pomfrey after all. That doesn’t—”

“You could have avoided these injuries, had you not yanked  the limb from the step,” Snape admonished. “As it is, these can be easily closed with a suturing cream. We’ll apply a disinfectant for good measure.” And with more care than Harry thought the man capable, Snape quickly set to work.

“There was something in the step,” Harry admitted after a while.

“What?” Snape asked distractedly.

“I pulled my leg out because there was something in the step.”

“It was a charmed step, Potter. The only thing in it was your foot.”

“No, there was something living. Like and animal or something.”

“Despite popular belief, the staircase is solid stone.” Snape finished applying the disinfectant, and wiped his hands off with a cloth. “There was nothing in the step.”

Harry glared at his professor’s retreating back. Just when he thought the man might be halfway decent.

“Now,” Snape’s voice carried from the kitchen, “About your detention.”

It was very odd to be sitting in Snape’s living room.  The room wasn’t at all what Harry imagined it to be.  He and his friends sometimes joked that there would be a hatchway that led to Snape’s living quarters. That there would be chains hanging off the walls where he would have hanged students by their thumbs during detention, just like Filch said used to happen.  To Harry’s surprise however, Snape room looked, by and large, to be tidy and normal.   

But Harry had much pressing matters to wonder about than the state of Snape’s living quarters.

“Now, about your detention,” said Snape, his voice sounding quite sinister in the imagination of the 12 year old.

Harry swallowed, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No? It is fully one hour after curfew,” said Snape, pointing to the grandfather clock that stood against a wall. “Why were you not in your dorm?”  He continued, gazing at Harry with an accusing stare.

Harry immediately felt like he was being interrogated for doing something awful.  

“I just got stuck,” Harry mumbled. “My leg got caught…”

“Your leg was caught for a whole hour?” Snape asked with skepticism in his voice.

“Well I …”

“I find it incredibly unlikely that you were trapped for a whole hour,” Snape drawled, stepping closer to Harry and making him feel trapped.  “That means curfew had already been announced when you got yourself trapped.  This leads me to the conclusion that you were indeed out of bounds.”

“But I wasn’t!  I was heading towards my dorm when I got caught,” Harry tried to explain himself.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you mustn’t lie to me, Mr. Potter.  Why were you out after curfew? What were you up to?”

“Nothing!”

“Nothing?” Snape repeated and then, drawling out each syllable he said. “Tell me, do you think I am dense like you, Potter?”

It was a rhetorical question but knowing where Snape was going with this line of questioning and feeling the injustice of it all, Harry mustered up all the courage he could and replied.

“I’m not dense!”

Snape quelled him with a look. “Detention, Potter, for being out after curfew.  And 20 points from Gryffindor for disrespect. Do not speak to me in that tone of voice again, is that clear?”

Harry wanted to shout that, no it was not clear!  That it wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t his fault and that there was something in the step, he was sure of it!  

“Is that clear, Mr. Potter?” said Snape, leaning over Harry.

Harry frowned and looked away from Snape to stare at his knees.  Why did Snape bothered to heal him at all?  Why did he care? One minute, he looked almost concerned, and the next he was taking points and giving Harry detention like he couldn’t care less what Harry felt.

“Yes,” Harry mumbled, knowing he hadn’t any other choice.

“Good,” Snape said curtly and stood back. “I don’t know what you were up to, Potter and it is far too late for me to be wasting my time on you.  However, rest assured that if I ever catch you out of bounds again, I will not be so lenient.”

Harry didn’t respond.

“Your leg should be fine. If it still hurt in the morning, go to Madam Pomfrey…are you listening to me Potter?”

“Okay,” said Harry, annoyed. 

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry’s tone and simply let the power of silence work its magic.

Harry shifted in his seat and finally couldn’t take the pressure anymore and apologized. “Sorry, sir.”

Snape nodded in acceptance. “Now, it is far past your bedtime, Potter. You will go back to your dorm, you will not take any detours and I will see you in my office on Friday, directly after supper for your detention.”

***

The door closed with a click and sound reverberated off the walls.  Harry began his long trek back to Gryffindor Tower.  In the dark and quiet night, with no students hanging about or rushing to and fro, the dungeons were indeed scarier.  Now there wasn’t even Professor Snape to keep him company, not that Harry enjoyed Snape’s company.  It was just that, well, Harry didn’t mind Snape too much if it meant that he wouldn’t be alone.  Harry hated being alone and in the dark, with nobody….

A sudden chill crawled down Harry’s spine.  Out of the blue, he had the feeling that he was being watched, as though there was someone or something lurking in the shadows where the torches failed to light. Feeling incredible uncomfortable, Harry walked a little faster, but the bad feeling only got worse.   In fact, the faster he walked, the more he felt like he was being followed!

Adrenaline and fear ran through him.  This kind of fear wasn’t like the fear he felt when being chased by Dudley and his gang.  This was worse, oh yes much worse.  Because Harry always knew what would happen if Dudley caught him, he’d get beat up and nothing worse than a few bruises would be the result.  Harry could deal with that.  But that thing that had had brushed against his leg, whoever or whatever was following him now…Harry didn’t know what it was, what it wanted or what it was capable of doing. That was a whole other type of fear.

Harry took off in a dead run.

He ran all the way out of the dungeons, across the Entrance Hall and up the stairs to Gryffindor tower without pausing. He came to a full stop in front of the Fat Lady portrait and banged on her framed door.  “Let me in! Let me in!” Harry shouted frantically, pulling at the doorknob.

The Fat Lady stirred.  “What’s this, a student out of bounds?”

“Please, open up!”

“Password?”

Password?  Password? Oh no, what was the password?

Harry couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t remember the password.

“I….I don’t know, I don’t remember,” Harry cried. “You know me, I’m in Gryffindor, I’m Harry Potter, please let me in.”

“No entry without a password, no exception.”

“No please!  There’s something there!  Help me, help!” Harry gasped and turned to face the … there was nothing but an empty corridor.

In his frenzied state, Harry failed to notice or remember that unlike the Slytherin dungeons, Gryffindor tower was very clearly lit. And as far as Harry could tell, there was nothing in the hall but torches and portraits.

Harry’s heart thumped painfully and his breathes came out hard and fast. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again and as he tried make sense of it all, the Fat Lady swung open.

“Harry! Are you quite alright?” Harry recognized Hermione’s voice before he even saw her face.  

“Hermione!” He yelled in relief and rushed inside, almost bumping in to Ron.

“Harry what’s happened?  Where have you been?” She asked him.

“Ron, Hermione, you…you won’t believe what just happened to me!”  He cried, and once he calmed down enough, told his friends every single detail of the past hour and half.

***

That night, Harry snuggled himself beneath the covers and held on tight. He felt much safer in his dorm, surrounded by his friends. At least he wasn’t alone anymore and if something did try to get him, he felt sure that Ron wouldn’t abandon him.  Unlike Snape, Ron and Hermione didn’t think he was dense or crazy.  Hermione was a bit unsure about the whole thing, but the important thing was that she listened to him.

Harry thought back to what happened today and why he became so afraid. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he dealt with the unknown.  

Well, first, just because he spent plenty of time in dark places did not mean he was used to them.   And second, although he tried to put up the front of being unfazed, Harry was scared by what happened last year with Quirrell and Voldemort.   Finding the Philosopher Stone seemed like a good idea at the time, but when he was down there under the trap door, Harry had been scared out of his wits!  

And this summer, something happened that made him even more afraid of the dark, or more precisely, what was in it.

Since the Dursleys had moved him up to Dudley’s second bedroom, Dudley had started to play a new game with him.   This new game was called ‘Harry haunting’, a new twist on the old ‘Harry hunting’ game. To be honest, Harry was surprised Dudley was imaginative enough to come up with the new name.   And to Harry’s everlasting dismay, Dudley loved this new game even more than Harry hunting, and had of course and gotten his thug friends to join in. 

Dudley would creep into room at night, hide beneath the bed, and start making scary sounds or jump up and howl like some wild beagle with rabies.  Harry would scream and tumble out of bed, frantically trying to get away the ‘monsters’.  For, as logical as Harry tried to be, he learned only a year ago that ‘monsters’ or rather, ‘magical creatures’ do exist.

Granted, it had only been Dudley and Piers under the bed, but they gave Harry such a fright that he now had bad dreams about it.  And Dudley and Piers weren’t here to trick him….so what as it?

Maybe he had only imagined it?  But it was so real, it felt so real…so…alive.  And when he was being chased…it couldn’t have all been in his head!

Harry shuddered and gripped the covers a little tighter.  Whatever it was, Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

Professor Severus Snape smirked with smug satisfaction as he watched the small dark head bent industriously over the potion stained and scuffed work table. He always saved the more disgusting ingredients that needed preparing for Gryffindor detentions, especially for the Brat-who-lived. He always received such feelings of joy when meting out a detention to the little spawn of Satan. It was an especially sweet feeling if the detention was slightly unfair. Considering how many well-deserved detentions the elder Potter had unfairly dodged; it made Severus feel as though the scales of justice were finally balancing out just a bit. Just because Severus was sworn to protect the brat didn't mean he had to be nice to him or even like him. He tried very hard not to think about what Lily would say if she knew how unfair and cruel he could be toward her son.

Harry wrinkled his nose as he carefully sliced the pungent smelling, fermented mermaid ovum. It seemed like Professor Snape was always in need of the most smelly and gross ingredients when Harry had a detention, but he was just happy he wasn't alone in the dungeons. He was still inwardly terrified about horrible thing had been possibly stalking him in the dungeons earlier in the week, but he kept it to himself. What if Snape or the other grown-ups thought he had lost his marbles? Was there some sort of place they put wizards who had gone mad? He was sure there must be; who would want a crazy person lurking about who could do magic as well?

Harry was mulling over the implications of a magical asylum when he heard a low growl and for once it wasn't his own stomach. Harry glanced up sharply, looking quickly around the room and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Professor Snape was still sitting at his desk, busily marking papers. Perhaps the surly man needed a quick snack? Harry shrugged and went back to his task, but a few seconds later there was another closer growl.

"Potter! Can you manage to keep your body functions under control? Did you even bother to eat supper before you came to detention or were you too busy plotting mischief with your little cohorts?"

"It wasn't me, sir!" Harry replied, startled.

"Do. Not. Lie to me," Professor Snape hissed as he stood. As the scowling man moved to walk from behind his desk, there was suddenly a loud snarl and a scuffling noise. This time the noise was very close to Professor Snape's desk. The teacher quickly pulled his wand seemingly out of nowhere and was scanning the room with a sharp eye. Harry suddenly had a awful feeling settle in his stomach. He was almost certain the unseen origins of the growling and snarling was also the thing that had been in the trick stair and was also the thing that stalked him in the dark hallways of the dungeons. Had Harry somehow released a sinister creature from its prison?

"Potter, if this is one of your little tricks, I assure you-"

Harry never did find out what his teacher could assure him, because at that moment, Professor Snape looked down at the floor and he suddenly had the most perplexed look on his sallow face.

"What in bloody hell?"

Harry strained to see around the tables what had caused his professor to use the most uncharacteristic language. Unfortunately, the teacher's desk was blocking his view. Risking Professor Snape's wrath Harry stood and moved toward the front of the room. Before he could take more than a few steps, there was another loud snarl and the sound of ripping cloth. Harry's mouth fell open as his surly teacher was suddenly yanked down out of sight behind his desk. The Gryffindor sprinted around the desk to help his teacher and was completely appalled at what he saw.

Tag JA!

If it had only been attacking Professor Snape, Harry thought that he would have stayed and tried to fight it, but the fact was that as soon as he'd come around the corner of the desk, the thing was brushing against his leg again, and Harry had startled so badly that he'd practically levitated off the floor. Harry knew the beast was behind him, tracking him turn after turn as he went deeper into the dungeons, because he could hear the growling and he could feel the hair standing up on the back of his neck. Breathing ragged as he turned another corner and suddenly found himself at a dead end, Harry wished they would enroll students into Care of Magical creatures starting in first year instead of third, so that he might know what he was up against.

"St- stay back! I'm warning you!" Harry said, wand out and lit, though his hand trembled as much as his voice. There was no noise in in answer, but Harry knew the beast was there, lurking in the shadows unseen, waiting to pounce and do to him what it had done to Snape. Snape, damn. Harry felt ashamed that he'd left the man there, nasty as he was, possibly to die.

Looking around wildly Harry began to feel the rough stone walls for any sign of a hidden escape route. The castle was full of hidden passageways and rooms. Just last week Hermione had been delighted to find a hidden library that looked as if it hadn't been used in ages. She now considered it her own private stash of books.

Finding no secret exit, Harry turned to face the dimly lit corridor again and was startled again as the thing brushed up against him. If he didn't know any better he would have said it was some sort of cat, because the brief touches reminded Harry of what Mrs. Norris did to Filch whenever he spotted them together in the corridors.

"Sh- shoo," Harry said, voice uncertain. He waved his hands, hoping he wouldn't feel the creature bite down on one of his limbs, or rip his legs up as it had done to Snape.

He felt the thing brush up against his leg again. "Shoo- go on. Get out of here!" There was a low growl in response, and Harry jumped.

"S- sorry?" he said to thin air, and the thing brushed him for a third time. Harry wished there was some sort of table to climb up on, but for all he knew this invisible cat thing had wings and could fly, or could simply float up to where he was. Apparently it's home was in the dungeons, or in the walls, and Harry wondered that it hadn't gotten him in the day time yet, or made its way into Gryffindor tower.

"Please?" Harry tried pleading. Before he could say anything else however, there was a bright flash of light from the other end of the corridor followed by a screech and a piteous howling, and Harry squinted through his bad store bought glasses to see Snape leaning on a wall at the other end of the corridor, wand out.

"Potter, come here. Now."

Harry hastened to obey, uncertain of where the creature was or if it would ever attack him.

"Are you injured?" Snape asked, but all Harry could do was shake his head mutely as he stared down at the blood dripping from Snape's leg.

"The creature did not injure you?" he asked again, skeptical, and Harry shook his head again.

"It kept brushing up against my leg sir, and it growled a couple of times."

Snape's weary eyes swept over the darkened corridor. His revealing spell had done nothing but irritate the creature as much as he himself was irritated that Potter was right and that perhaps there had been something in the staircase.

Harry startled as Snape placed a hand on his shoulder to turn him around, but he obeyed and they quickly made their way back up through the dungeons and quickly into Snape's office, where the man closed and warded the door with several complicated sounding charms.

"Professor, what was that thing?" Harry tried valiantly to control his voice and keep it from sounding shaky. He didn't want to reveal any weakness in front of someone who might use it against him.

Snape sneered as he wrenched open a cupboard door and began rifling through potion tins for something to put on his leg. "I don't know Potter. Have you encountered this creature before?"

"It followed me back from the dungeons last night, but I couldn't see it. I think... I think it lives down here in the dungeons."

"Yet you first encountered it in the stairs. You may have unleashed something upon the school."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, looking down at his hands from where he still stood by the door.

"You will be," the Potion's Master said, and Harry wasn't sure if it was a threat or not as he watched the man sit down in his chair and begin rubbing blue goop up and down his injured legs. Harry was amazed, as he often was in this place, as he watched most of the scratches heal and the blood disappear as the goop evaporated.

"Dare I ask," Snape said, giving Harry a cold and calculating look, "if you have been experimenting with dark or unknown magic?"

"S- sir?"

"The dark arts Potter. Have you been reading or doing magic you shouldn't be?"

Harry stared at the impatient and what Harry would classify as near maniacal look on his professor's face.

"No Professor."

"Something is amiss Potter. The beast does not seem to attack you. What were you thinking when the infernal thing came after me?" He snapped out the last part, making Harry feel on edge.

"Nothing sir, I was just doing my detention."

"You weren't wishing ill will towards me?"

Harry frowned. Who didn't wish the git would just go away and leave them alone? As far as he remembered though, he hadn't been thinking a thing aside from how disgusting his detention was.

"No sir."

Snape scoffed. "I find that hard to believe." Without warning he spun on his heel and pushed in a brick in the wall behind his desk, and Harry stared in awe as the wall sunk in on itself much as the one behind the Leaky Cauldron did. Snape disappeared through the narrow opening, but shouted at Harry a moment later, "Follow me Potter," and Harry hurried to obey, wondering if there was some sort of torture dungeon beyond the wall. He wouldn't put it past Snape to drag him to some room well beneath the castle where no one would hear his screams.

On the other side of the door was a long skinny corridor that Harry hurried to get through, feeling claustrophobic. On the other side he came out into Snape's living room, and his mouth dropped open again. Why were they back in the man's quarters again? His eyes searched for Snape, and found him pulling several books off of a packed bookshelf on one side of the fireplace.

"Start looking for a creature matching the description of the one following you Potter," Snape commanded, setting a stack of books on the coffee table and then pulling the one off the top as he began flipping through pages hurriedly. Was this part of detention, Harry wondered, looking at his watch and noting that it was already ten.

After standing there and watching the man pouring through books for a full two minutes, Harry finally went over to the table and picked up a book, and tentatively took a seat in an armchair by the empty fireplace. Harry didn't pretend to understand the title, something about Dark arts and mysticism, by he opened the book anyway and stared at the words. He would never be able to understand any of it, let alone read it in a short amount of time. The Dursleys had never helped Harry with school work, and in school Dudley always got him in trouble or distracted him when they were learning. While Harry was 12, he had great difficulty piecing sentences together, and the only thing that had gotten him through his previous year of school was Hermione reading chapters of schoolbooks aloud to him and Ron to ensure they were paying attention. Thankfully she'd also shown him a charm to make his quill take notes for him and write his homework for him if he dictated to it. He sighed as he stared hard at the first word, and tried hard to pronounce it in his head without saying it out loud or moving his lips. After a few moments he realized the word was ‘nature' though he was confused about its spelling. He never had understood the rule about silent e's.

"Time is of the essence Potter, unless you wish to spend the entire night here," Snape drawled from the other side of the table on the couch. Harry looked up but when Snape didn't look up to meet his eyes, he looked back down to the first page, frustrated, and set to work figuring out what the next few words were. Snape was an expert skimmer it appeared and was already browsing through a third book.

After another five minutes, Snape looked up and asked, "Have you found anything yet?"

"No sir," Harry said, feeling embarrassed when the man held out his hand for the book. Harry handed it to him, still open to the first page and the man glared at him.

"You have not even been trying Potter. You've been sitting there staring at the first page for ten minutes. If you are determined to be useless, you may as well go back to your dormitory."

"Alone sir?"

"The creature doesn't appear to be after you Potter. For whatever reason, it appears to have taken a liking to you. I doubt it will attack you."

In his panic Harry wanted to shout then that the man didn't know that, but he clamped his mouth down hard, not wanting to dig himself into more trouble.

"I don't want to go back alone," Harry said, and Snape scoffed.

"Then make yourself comfortable, because I'm not ready to take you back right now."

Grumbling something about torture, Harry crossed his arms and sat back in the chair, secretly hoping that the creature would sneak in while he was still there just to spur Snape to action and get them out of the man's quarters. Then Snape would have to take him back to his common room. The creature never did sneak in though, and Harry felt disappointed as he nodded off in the chair, feeling cold and uncomfortable.

Forty five minutes later, Snape had finished looking through the ten books he'd pulled off his shelves, and looked up to see Potter sleeping in his arm chair. Brat, he thought to himself with a sneer. How dare he fall asleep in his quarters? He didn't even have the decency to try to help search for information.

"Potter," he said irritably to wake the boy, but the Gryffindor didn't stir. Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose hard, trying to force the irritation down. He rose to put the books away and when he had placed the last one on the shelf, he spied another book, long forgotten at the edge of a shelf, and pulled it out. It was another book about Hogwarts, and he knew he'd better check in case it held the answers he was looking for. He didn't want to wake the Headmaster at such a late hour without any answers. He knew that sooner or later he would need to tell the man so that the monster didn't start attacking students when they came out of their dormitories in the morning for breakfast and classes.

Tired, and legs aching, Severus sat back down on the comfortable couch and began making his way through the book. On the last page, he paused as he read a description about an invisible being that had occasionally been conjured within school boundaries to protect a child in need.

‘The Protector takes a different form for each child in need. It is believed to be a shapeshifter, though no one has ever seen its shape change because it has always been invisible. Four occurrences of the protector have been reported since the construction of the castle, and each time the Protector was conjured for a student who was being abused, or was in danger of physical harm in some way. The protector is often described as stalking or following the student in need, while displaying fierce protective qualities against any whom the child deems a threat. The protector cannot leave Hogwarts boundaries, and will not let the child leave if it believes said child will be going back to a dangerous situation. The protector often vanishes once the child's needs are being met, and the child is no longer seen as in-danger.'

Severus looked down at his still torn pant leg and the several angry scratches that still remained. Was it possible that this, ‘protector,' was the thing stalking the Dungeon hallways and following the boy about? Impossible. The child was in no danger unless it was from his own stupidity. The little stunt he and his friends had pulled with the sorcerer's stone was enough to prove that.

His eyes raked over the sleeping form in the chair across from him. The pampered brat had never known abuse in his life. Severus knew abuse and the ‘protector' had never shown up to keep him from going back to Spinner's End. No, he scoffed again snorting in amusement, if it was the protector it had made some sort of mistake in choosing the boy, or perhaps the child was in some sort of danger here at Hogwarts. Lockhart perhaps, who was a danger to himself and others at all times, period.

"Potter," Severus stood and shook his shoulder this time and the boy startled and tried to back up into the chair though there was nowhere to go.

Snape stared at him for long moments before saying, "It is time for you to return to your dormitory."

Harry, immediately awake and alert, stood to follow Snape from his quarters. On their way up through the castle, a timid voice nagged at the back of Severus' head. ‘Please sir, don't do this. Don't leave me alone in there.' He tried to push the memory back down as he deposited the boy back in the safety of his common room.

The walk back to Gryffindor Tower had been quiet and uneventful. Snape had been deep in thought, about what, Harry could not have guessed. Had he found what he’d been looking for in those dusty old books? If he had, he didn’t bother enlightening Harry. In fact, apart from the slight ache in his fingers, where Harry had clutched at a section of Snape’s robes in a death grip, he had nothing to show his friends of the night’s harrowing events.

Luckily, the only proof they required was his word. He was still getting used to that.

“A cat, you say?” Harry nodded grimly at Hermione as they sat around the fireplace in the common rooms late that night. “But you couldn’t see it?”

“Well, no. It was really dark,” he said slowly, thinking back to the hallway where the creature had repeatedly brushed against his legs.

“And when Professor Snape cast the revealing spell?” she prompted.

Harry shrugged. “I guess it had disappeared by then.”

Hadn’t it happened that way?

“Or maybe you just couldn’t see it...” Hermione suggested, tapping her index finger against her chin thoughtfully and taking on a very faraway look, as though she were scanning the pages of a book that resided in her bushy head.

Ron, who had maintained a white-knuckled grip on his squashy armchair throughout the duration of Harry’s tale, jerked his feet onto the cushion as if they were in danger of being gobbled up at any moment.

“That thing ‘s invisible?” he cried.

“It’s just theory I have,” Hermione answered, unaffected by the redhead’s complexion turning several shades greener.

Ron gulped loudly, fearfully regarding the darkened hides and catches of the Gryffindor Commons. “You...you don’t reckon it followed you back here, do you Harry?”

“No, of course not.” Harry rushed to ease his friend’s suffering, even though he felt every bit as alarmed by the possibility, “I got the feeling that it lived down there. In the dungeons, I mean.”

Despite his best efforts at reassurance, Ron’s face crumpled in misery.

“What did I say?”

“As if the dungeons weren’t bad enough! Now I have to worry about being eaten by an invisible demon cat on top of the Potions test tomorrow? Just great!”

Potions test? Tomorrow? Harry groaned into his hands.

After a lightning fast Potions review, during which Hermione both asked and answered  the questions, Harry and Ron retired to their dorm room feeling very bleak about the coming day.

The Potions exam was abysmal, as expected, but Harry was consoled in the fact that he was not alone.

Beside him, Ron’s eyes skittered across the classroom, searching fruitlessly for the invisible creature every time a page rustled or a shoe scuffed the floor. On one occasion, an unlucky Slytherin knocked over her inkwell, and the subsequent commotion was enough to elicit a squeak of terror from the poor Gryffindor.

Even Neville spared Ron a look of sympathy before bending his head over his desk, Quill hovering ineffectually over his own blank parchment.

Harry returned his attention to the exam. He’d managed to pick up the spelling of a few potions and ingredients during lecture. Whenever Snape slapped the blackboard with his wooden pointer, Harry would make it a point to remember the words...at least, he tried.

Indian Snakeroot. Harry sounded the words out cautiously in his head. He vaguely recalled an incident two weeks ago, in which Snape nastily corrected Parvati Patil on the uses of it in medicinal potions. He strained himself trying to recreate the scene in his head. Finally, he muttered something almost inaudibly so as not to attract unwanted attention, and the Quill he held loosely in his hand jotted his words across the page as though he had written them himself.

He admired his work, pleased at this small victory, but the feeling was soon clouded by guilt as Ron squirmed nervously in his seat for the umpteenth time.

Harry couldn’t say for sure why he wasn’t as fearful this morning as he had been the night before. Maybe it was because the dungeon was presently alive with activity, surrounded as he was by fellow students and faculty. More than likely, though, was the fact that the only eyes he felt on him just then were those of the Potions Master.

When he glanced up at the sallow-cheeked man, however, it was to find him apparently engrossed in a book much like the one Harry had cracked open the previous evening, before giving up and falling asleep. Snape raised his eyes then to meet Harry’s directly.

Caught you! Harry thought with satisfaction, and Snape growled, making a show of flattening the cover of the ancient text against his desk, not that Harry’s myopic eyes were in any danger of catching the title at such a distance.

“Hm,” Harry wondered aloud, and the charmed Quill in his hand echoed “Hm” on his parchment.

By the time he had a chance to complain to his friends about how infuriating it was to be purposefully kept in the dark on matters that clearly concerned him, they were entering Defense Against the Dark Arts, and his train of thought was abruptly derailed by the strange behavior of Professor Lockhart.

Their professor was huffing loudly on the platform outside his office, his golden hair still in rollers and his forget-me-not blues whirling in their sockets, scanning the wave of students with wild suspicion. He looked as though he hadn’t slept a wink. Behind him, the open door to his office showed several leather trunks already packed and set off to the side, while many more still lay open.

“Class, class,” he boomed too cheerily, “Ah, apologies for the inconvenience, but lecture has been cancelled...indefinitely.”

“But why?” a voice thick with emotion cried from the lingering crowd of mostly female students. Most of the boys had already dashed off in good spirits.

“Ah...I’ve been called away to Kenya,” he said busily. “They’ve got a nasty Theluji Kiumbe on their hands. A bit out of their league, if you ask me, but I’ve got just the expertese to subdue it. Well,” he  paused at the railing again to gaze at the remaining admirers. “Shove off then!” And he disappeared into his office in a frenzy.

The room instantly erupted in sobbing that Harry could only liken to the shrill shrieks of the baby Mandrakes from Herbology the week before, and to his disbelief, Hermione joined in! So upset was she, that she dropped her books and darted from the classroom.

Harry and Ron gave each other a look.

“Women,” the redhead shook his head in confusion, but Harry noted that he happily gathered Hermione’s things and took off after her.

Could it be mere coincidence that Lockhart was leaving right after Snape had been attacked by the creature? The two hardly seemed related, but something tickled at the back of his mind, so he pushed his way through a huddle of weepy girls and past a teary-eyed second year boy he didn’t recognize and made his way to Lockhart’s office.

“Professor,” he knocked politely on the open door.

Lockhart startled in response, nearly scattering a wobbly stack of autographed photos of himself.

“Oh, it’s just you, Harry,” he gasped, levitating the load safely into a large trunk. “I’m sorry, my boy, but I’m afraid I can’t sign anything at the moment. In a terrible hurry, you see. Send it to my agent and she’ll forward it to my publicist, who will pass it on to me.”

“No, sir, I don’t want—“

“Oh, one autograph for the Harry Potter, my most devoted fan, won’t slow me do too much!” Lockhart interrupted, jogging to his desk and spewing a steady stream of nonsensical self-flattery.

“It wasn’t true, was it?” Harry finally yelled when the other man showed no sign of stopping.

Lockhart froze.

“What you said about the...the Julie Coomby?”

“Theluji Kiumbe,” the other wizard correctly weakly. He sighed and crossed his arms, as though debating what to tell the boy.

“I’ve never been good at lying,” he finally began and grinned at some private thought that Harry was not privy to.

“Why are you in such a hurry to leave Hogwarts, Professor?” Harry pressed.

“I don’t know how much I should tell you, Harry, but if I were you, I’d owl my guardians and be out of here tonight!” He stepped closer and lowered his voice, “The Headmaster believes there’s something in the castle. A dangerous creature, and it’s targeting me.” When he saw that he had Harry’s full attention, he continued, “It likely sees me as its only true threat, having defeated all manner of dark and fearsome beasts. No doubt, you’ve read my book Marauding With Monsters, in which I detail how I single-handedly—”

“Sir!” Harry cut him off, lest the man went loopy with self-obsession.

“Yes, of course. As I was saying, Dumbledore was rather tight-lipped about it all, but whatever it is that’s stalking the castle, it’s old magic. Likely as old as Hogwarts, itself.”

Lockhart escorted Harry to the door of his office and ended with, what Harry believed to be, an overly dramatic warning. “Leave with your life Potter, while it’s still yours to leave with!”

With that, the older wizard slammed the door in his face.

When Snape brought his findings to Dumbledore, the headmaster looked too surprised for Snape’s liking. Albus Dumbedore was one of the most educated and knowledgeable wizard this side of the Atlantic. And there was nobody alive that knew as much about Hogwarts as Dumbledore.  If he had no knowledge about this creature, then things did not bode well for Hogwarts and its inhabitants.

“It’s called ‘the protector’, Albus. Have you ever heard of anything like it?”

Dumbledore peered down at the passage in the book and frowned. “I have never heard of such a creature. And you say that this creature has been conjured for Harry Potter.”

“That seems to be the case,” Severus replied, then scoffed. “Although, I do not see why it has chosen to be Potter’s protector. He is in no danger of abuse, unless you count being pampered to death, abuse.”

If Severus listened to his brain, it would have told him that he was terribly wrong. But when it came to Harry, Severus often bypassed his brain in favour of predetermined perceptions.

The headmaster looked up at Severus, “If what this passage says is true, then I can only assume that Harry is in some sort of danger.  I am not aware of any abuse, certainly not at Hogwarts.  As for his family, Arabella Figg has never informed me of any signs of physical or emotional abuse. Do you know anything about this, Severus?”  

“Why would I know anything about Potter’s family?” Seveurs said dismissively. Harry’s plea for him not to leave him alone echoed in Severus’ mind. Again, Severus shook the thought away. He had believed Harry to be a certain why for so long that it was hard to throw those beliefs away, in spite of the increasing evidence that proves otherwise.

“Well, then I must look into this,” Dumbledore continued, looking deeply worried. “Where is Harry now?”

“He is in his dorm, where he should be at this time of night.”

“Good.  I am worried that he may be in some danger. It says here that the protector was conjured for students who are in danger of physical harm in anyway. But if there is something or someone at Hogwarts that is a threat to young Harry, why did the protector show itself now, why not last year when Harry was in danger from the soul of Voldemort himself?”

Severus grimaced at the name of the Dark Lord.  “I do not know.  The passage is short and do not explain the magic well.  We need more information.  But I only found this out moments ago. There seems to be very little record of such a creature and a lack of any evidence at all.”

Dumbledore put the book down, “It does seem that this creature only has the best interest of Harry at heart. However, it’s fiercely protective qualities might make it a real danger to the rest of the school.”

“I can attest to that, Albus,” said Snape with a growl. “The protector attacked me, even though I was not even a danger to the boy.”

“Yes, Severus, you told me what happened. I do believe it was not your intention to harm Harry, but perhaps to this protector, you seemed hostile. Or, it had sensed Harry’s anxiety and decided to act upon it.”

“Yes.  And it was mistaken.  I wished no harm on Potter. This is what troubles me, Albus,” said Severus. “We do not yet know what how this creature thinks, what it is capable of doing, or what it will resort to in order to keep Potter safe. I was able to fight it off and my injuries were superficial. However, if it attacks one of the students, there’s no telling what damage it is could do a child.”

The elderly wizard took off his glass and rubbed his eyes.

“We may have a very aggressive creature on our hands then?”

“Indeed,” said Severus.

The headmaster stood up and began pacing the room. “Then we must act quickly. Find out everything we can about this creature.  I think I will consult the portraits on this matter, as well as the ghosts.  In the meantime, do everything possible to minimize the risk of it attacking either the faculty or the students.”

“And how do we do that? We cannot even see it, and my revealing charms reveal nothing at all.”

“Simple, show no hostility towards Harry,” Dumbledore answered. “Do not as so much raise your voice to him, do not threaten him with detention or upset him in anyway. 

“In other words, you want us to pamper Potter like a little celebrity?” Severus said with distaste. 

“Do not exaggerate my words, Severus. I simply want you to be kinder towards Harry,” said Dumbledore, stopping in front of the potions master. “I did not say for you to pamper him, only that you should not be so intimidating towards him. Keep in mind that at this time, we must take the necessary measures to be better safe than sorry.”

Severus sighed deeply, “very well.”

“Thank you, my boy,” Dumbledore smiled and walked passed Severus towards the floo. “I do not believe it is necessary yet to involve the students.  But I will call for a meeting of the faculty right now. You may stay, or leave, Severus.”

“If you don’t mind, headmaster, I will take my leave.”

“Fine, fine,” Dumbledore replied, “Do me a favour and ask the Bloody Baron if he has encountered something like this.”

 “Yes, Albus.”

“Oh, and Severus?”

“Yes, Albus?”

Dumbledore looked at Severus over his spectacles. “If you find anything or anyone that could be a potential harm to Harry, at Hogwarts or elsewhere, please let me know.”

Severus nodded and bid the headmaster good night.

As soon as Severus stepped through the floo,  he went through a mental list of things that could possibly trigger the wrath of the protector again. If this protector was so sensitive to the feelings of Potter as to think of him as a threat, when he had been nothing but stern to the brat, there’s no telling what or who might trigger it.

Draco could also trigger the protector by throwing a childish insult at Potter.  It could even be Lockhart, trying to win trick Potter into a contract.

It could be an ill-tempered Filch, shaking a broom at him. It could be Weasley, giving Potter a friendly shove. This may be unlikely because the passage said that the protector reacted to the child’s emotions.  But, as Albus had said, it is far better to be safe than sorry.

Severus rubbed his face tiredly and prepared for bed, thinking of how life would be so much more simple and lovely without the Potter brat complicating things.

***

The second year defence class rejoiced at having one of their classes cancelled and scattered in all directions before a professor comes along and force them back inside the classroom. By dinner time rumour had spread among the girls that the famous professor had left them behind to pursue some grander endeavour.  Apparently, he had been called off Africa to help the local people battle a legendary monster.  Most of the boys couldn’t care less and agreed that Lockhart’s departure was the best thing to happen this year.  

Harry sat at the Great hall, feeling very downhearted. It had been a very bad week for him and he couldn’t wait for it to be over. He had been stalked by a monster, witness it attack Snape, failed his potions exam and now utterly at a lost by Professor Lockhart’s sudden resignation.

At the head table, the seat reserved for Professor Lockhart was empty.  The official explanation was that Professor Lockhart had to leave due to personal reasons.  Much to the glee of the Ravenclaws…and Hermione….and the dismay of everybody else, the defence class was not cancelled indefinitely.  Headmaster Dumbledore also announced that Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick would be taking turns teaching defence until a replacement could be found.  In the meantime, the duties of deputy headmistress duties would be transferred to Dumbledore, as not to put too much pressure on poor Professor McGonagall.

Harry was listening raptly for anything about a creature on the loose, such as a warning to students not to travel alone.  Surely, if this creature was dangerous enough to scare off a professor, Dumbledore would tell them about it? Wouldn’t he? All he wanted was some answers. But Professor Dumbledore said no more and went back to his seat.  

Professor Snape's chair was also empty, but it was mot uncommon for the potions professor to dine alone in his quarters. 

As supper appeared on the table, the great hall became abuzz with chatter.  

“Harry, you have to eat,” Hermione lectured, but Harry didn’t feel hungry. How could he eat when he knew there was something loose in the castle, stalking him?

Professor Lockhart’s warning echoed in his ear.

There’s something in the castle. A dangerous creature…stalking the castle…old magic…leave with your life Potter, while it’s still yours to leave with.

Harry did not like the sound of that at all.  He had managed to escape death because of this mother’s love last year, Harry wasn’t sure he would be so lucky again. And the fact that the creature hadn’t hurt him yet did little to reassure Harry.

Harry groaned for the umpteenth time as he continued to play with his food.

“Harry, I’m sure it’s fine.  Just let the professors handle it,” said Hermione and she tried making things better by offering him dessert before he’s even had any supper. “Here, have some cake.”

Cake!

Harry dropped his fork and it fell on off the table to the floor.

Cake!  Dobby! 

The memory came flooding back to Harry like it happened only hours ago.  How in the world had he forgotten about Dobby? Hadn’t Dobby warned him about Hogwarts, that he was in great danger here? The house-elf had gone as far as to try and get harry kicked out of school! Was this what Dobby was worried about, this invisible creature?

“Harry, what is it?” Somebody asked him.  But Harry wasn’t listening. Without notice, he swung his legs over the bench, grabbed his knapsack and ran out of the Great Hall.  Ron and Hermione looked at each other for several long seconds, stunned by Harry’s unusual behaviour, before giving chase.

“Harry! Slow down! What’s wrong?” Hermione shouted.

“Where are you going, mate?” Ron called after him.

Harry’s feet carried him towards the Professor Snape’s office. He was almost half way there when his brain finally caught on. The Gryffindor stopped running and stood in place, confused.  Why was he heading towards Snape’s office?  He wanted to tell a professor about Dobby and his warning, but he didn’t want to tell Snape. Sure, it had been Professor Snape who helped him the other night. And it made sense because Professor Snape had already started the research and maybe this information could help. But…Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall could just as well help him. He didn’t want Snape’s help anyway…

“Hey, Potter!”

Harry groaned very loudly, tilted his head back and slumped his shoulders. It was Draco Malfoy, accompanied by dumb and dumber, here to wreak havoc on Harry’s life again.

Before he could even tell Malfoy to shove off, a faint blur dashed between Harry and Draco and knocked the Slytherin off his feet.

Severus Snape had only just rounded the corner from his office when he saw Draco Malfoy being attacked by a creature that he could only describe as offensive. It walked upright and was small, about the size of a house elf, but there the similarities ended. The creature had unnatural, translucent white skin, as though it had never seen the light of day or like the flesh of a decomposing body that had been languishing in stagnant water for several days. It was much like the ever-rotting flesh of a Dementor. Its limbs and torso were bloated, twisted and deformed, appearing like something that mother nature felt was so severely deformed that it was not compatible with life in any normal circumstance. It reeked of Dark Magic. Severus only identified it by the familiar low growls and snarls; it was the thing that had attacked him earlier. He glanced over at Potter who was standing, motionless, his small form pressed against the stone wall of the dimly lit corridor. His face was frighteningly pale, his green eyes were glassy and standing out in stark relief against the bloodless skin. The former spy had his wand drawn from his cloak in a fraction of a second and sent multiple hexes at the vile creature, being careful not to hit Draco. Only one spell struck home, inducing the beast to release the tow-headed boy and scamper, snarling around the darkened corner. Severus sorely wanted to give chase, but he more important matters at hand.

Draco was already standing upright, scowling and smoothing down his hair. Severus noted several scratches on his cheek and his cloak was torn in multiple places. “What the bloody hell was that?” Draco spat, then paled a bit seeing his Head of House. “Sorry, Sir.”

Yes, the spoiled boy would be just fine. Severus did not acknowledge the boy’s slip of the tongue, he only directed his young snake to the hospital wing to have the scratches seen about.

Severus turned to the Gryffindor, and it was only then the surly man realized the boy hadn’t moved from his position against the wall.

“Potter!” Severus barked, as he moved closer to the boy, who was exhibiting clear signs of shock.

As the Slytherin Head of House moved to shake him by the shoulder, the boy went limp and tumbled into Severus’ arms, unconscious. Shocked, the young teacher did the only thing he could; he carried Harry Potter to the hospital wing, praying the entire time that no one witnessed it.

~~~~

Not half an hour later, after leaving the boy in Madam Pomfrey’s very capable hands, the Slytherin spy was in Dumbledore’s office. Severus paced to and fro in front of the headmaster's ornate claw-footed desk, his faced creased with worry.

“Headmaster, this is most concerning. The Protector, as rare as it may be, takes a different form for each child in need. However, no one has ever seen its shape because it has always been invisible. However, I saw the creature that attacked Draco Malfoy. I have never witnessed anything like it. The creature was evilly twisted and grotesque, almost obscene. It reeked of darkness."

The Potions Master stopped pacing and dropped wearily into the armchair across from Dumbledore’s desk. “What would such a creature want with the boy? Why does it seem to recognize him?"

The Headmaster was quiet for a moment, his long fingers steepled in front of him. "Are you familiar with the term Tulpa, Severus?"

“Only vaguely, it refers to a Tibetan term for an idea literally come to life, if I remember correctly. It is not a subject that has been explored extensively."

Dumbledore nodded as he stood and pulled out several very old-looking scrolls from one of the many cabinets in the office.

“Tibet has long been thought of as a mysterious, magical place where the strange is commonplace, even for Muggles. It is here that we find the origins of the Tulpa. The word Tulpa refers to any entity that attains reality and corporeal form solely by the power of the mind and innate magic, not using spells, potions, or a wand. This entity can be seen by not only the creator, but by other people, including Muggles, as well. It can take any form that can be imagined," Dumbledore said as he placed the scrolls on top of his desk. Severus noticed the scrolls were not made of parchment, but of another, very strange material. The archaic language written on the scrolls was not one the Potions Master could even remotely identify.

“Is that lambskin vellum?" Severus interjected as he carefully touched one of the scrolls the older man was perusing.

Dumbledore glanced up at him over his half-moon spectacles. “No, I believe it is made from the flesh of another, more precious, mammal."

Severus, realizing to what his mentor was inferring, quickly withdrew his hand as though he had been scalded, then immediately felt foolish. Dumbledore did not seem to notice his childish reaction and continued talking.

“There are several problems associated with creating a Tulpa, if you are not fully informed on the subject. The major problem is that if the Tulpa is given enough vitality, life, and magic from the witch or wizard who is its creator, it tends to become partially sentient and then will try to free itself from the master’s control."

“Tibetan wizards often tell of Tulpas which had been sent out to do the bidding of its master and then failed to return on completion of its task. Rather, the Tulpa chose to become a half-conscious entity capable of all types of chaos and can have powerful magic of its own right. This can also happen if its creator dies or becomes incapacitated before dissolving the entity back into his consciousness.”

The Headmaster rolled up the current scroll he was reading and pulled open another one.

“In some cases the entity behaves like a rebellious child and the wizards report cases of great struggles between the master and the Tulpa. Often the Tulpa can seriously injure or even kill its creator. Also, like all magic, the Tulpa can be used for good or evil, depending on the intent of the wizard who creates it.”

Severus digested this information slowly, trying to understand all the implications of what the Headmaster was saying. Was he trying to say the boy, Lily’s Boy, had been dabbling in the Dark Arts? Why else would the Tulpa be attacking people who threatened Harry?

“Headmaster,” Severus croaked as he managed to find his voice. “What are you trying to say? Could Potter-”

The august headmaster held up a gnarled hand. “I do not believe for a moment that Harry could even fathom how to create a Tulpa. However, because of what occurred on that Halloween night in Godric’s Hollow, Harry’s magic is intertwined with Voldemort’s. It is not beyond comprehension that when Tom Riddle attended school, he may have attempted to create one and subsequently forgot about it, but did not actively dissolve it back into his subconscious. It may have lingered here all this time, or perhaps he hid it away for later use. I do know that he had already begun to experiment with some of the Darkest Magic before he left Hogwarts.”

Severus nodded in agreement. “I can imagine the idea of such an entity could be appealing to him, and he was very skilled in the mind arts. Why would it protecting the boy?”

Dumbledore suddenly looked very tired and every bit his age. “This turn of events only helps to further confirm a hypothesis I have developed about why Harry survived that night. However, it is only one of many theories.”

“What is this particular theory, Headmaster?”

“Perhaps a bit of Voldemort was transferred to Harry that night. It is not unthinkable the Tulpa recognizes that small portion of his master and acts as thus.”

Severus felt a cold lump settle in his stomach at those words. He did not even want to think about what that meant for the boy in the future, so he decided to concentrate on the issue at hand.

“So this Tulpa, which Harry is likely subconsciously controlling at present, will eventually try to break free from him, thinking he is the master, and could possibly hurt the boy or kill him?”

“Yes, Severus,” Dumbledore gravely replied. “That is exactly what could happen and we must find a way to stop it.”

Tag JA! Posted at 5:00 pm CST

"Nice one Potter, get scared by the little demon? I was the one being attacked and even I didn't pass out." He laughed again just before Madam Pomfrey came back into the room with a tin of cream to put onto Draco's scratches.

Determined to stare at the floor, Harry didn't lift his eyes until Draco had gone and Madam Pomfrey had finished her diagnostic spell. "I can see why you collapsed Mr. Potter," she tutted, pouring pink potion that smelled like strawberries into a cup and handing it to him.

"Maam?" he asked uncertainly.

She motioned for him to drink the potion down and when he did she said, "Your magical core was a bit depleted. The potion should give you some strength back. What kind of magic were you doing to drain such strength?"

She seemed to be looking at Harry and waiting for an answer but he only shook his head and raised his hands up. "Nothing! I was just watching Draco get attacked by that thing!"

"All right. You're free to go Mr. Potter. Let me know if you don't feel better in a few hours. I'll let Professor Snape know the results of the scans."

"Professor Snape?"

"He's the one that carried you here."

Harry's cheeks turned red again and he slid off the bed and hurried out the door. He hated that he was small enough to be carried. He bet that Snape wouldn't have been able to carry Draco if he'd passed out, though Harry was forced to remind himself yet again, that Draco hadn't passed out.

He was nearly back down to the Great Hall to finish his meal when a throat cleared behind him and a silky voice stopped him in his tracks. "Potter."

Harry turned and his face turned red yet again at the sight of the Potion's Master. The man stalked up to him and looked him over critically. "Madam Pomfrey has released you already?" He sounded skeptical, as if Harry might have run off on his own.

"She gave me potion to replenish the magic I lost is all."

"Your core was depleted?"

Harry nodded.

With a heavy sigh Severus reached up and rubbed his temple. So the boy was fueling this creature, though he wasn't sure he subscribed completely to the Headmaster's theory of the Tulpa. A piece of Voldemort inside Potter? He was more likely to believe that the boy needed protection from something.

"Come with me Potter," he said finally, and turned to stalk towards the dungeons, Harry in tow.

Safely inside his office with the door shut, he motioned for Harry to have a seat and took a seat in his own chair across the desk.

"There are two possibilities as to what this creature is Potter. Both indicate trouble for yourself and others."

Harry stared at him and listened intently, finally ready for some answers.

"The Headmaster believes that it's a possibility, that you, or another person may somehow have conjured what is known as a Tulpa, a creature that literally takes form from an idea. If this is true, then this, ‘Tulpa' may believe that you are its master, and while it may obey you for a short time, it will eventually try defeat you, by means of death, and break free from you."

Harry paled and Severus didn't fail to notice. "And- the other possibility?"

"One of the books about Hogwarts mentions a creature that the castle sometimes conjures called a Protector. It has only happened a handful of times. It is invisible and its sole purpose is to protect the student it came into being for."

"A creature to protect me? From what?" Harry was confused. Nobody ever wanted to protect him because... well, because he was just Harry.

Severus remained quiet for a few moments as he watched the boy think.

"But I saw that thing in the Great Hall. It was- it was disgusting."

"Yes," Severus said carefully, "and yet, the creature that attacked me and cornered you in the dungeons was unseen."

"It- it was like cat... I'm sure of it." Harry hoped desperately that it wasn't that, rotting fetid thing from the Great Hall that had been rubbing up against his legs, or else he'd never leave his dorm room again.

"Describe what happened in the Great Hall."

Harry frowned and thought hard before saying, "That thing tackled Draco, and then I think it turned and stared at me, and I felt weak. I- I couldn't look away. It was like I was trapped. And then-" Harry stopped and looked up at Snape with his mouth wide open and surprise in his eyes.

"Yes?"

"And then I felt the little monster rubbing up against my legs again and just before you started shooting off spells at the creature it took off and I collapsed!"

"You felt the invisible creature?"

Harry nodded emphatically.

"You're absolutely positive?"

"Yes, it was there! I think- I think maybe it made the nasty rotting thing go away and made it let me go."

Severus startled then as Harry startled and leaped up out of his chair before falling back into it and looking around wildly at the ground around him.

"Potter?"

"I felt it just now. It's here."

Severus stood and began casting spells cautiously around the office, though they revealed nothing.

"Is it still touching you Potter?"

"Yes." Harry's voice shook as he said it. Was this a second rotting creature? He hoped that if there was a protector, that it didn't look nasty, though Harry thought that if it looked like the one in the hall that it would have the proper decency to at least smell like death as well to announce itself.

"Can you pick it up?"

Harry's eyes grew wide. "Do what sir?"

"Can you pick it up Potter," he snapped impatiently. They heard a low growl then and Harry drew his hands in to his chest.

Snape held up his hands as if to show thin air that he meant no harm and the growling stopped.

"Pick the thing up and bring it here," he ordered in as calm a voice as he could muster. They were going to solve this mystery once and for all if for nothing else than for his sanity, he decided.

The small Gryffindor tentatively reached out a hand and picked up what looked like thin air, before cradling it in his arms and following his Potion's Professor through the secret entrance into his quarters.

"What are we going to do sir?" Harry asked. The thing felt furry, not like rotting flesh, and this at least gave him some comfort, though he didn't know what he'd do if the creature wasn't a cat and was instead something with a terrifying face or wings or rows of large sharp teeth.

"Determine what this is," Snape said matter of factly, leading him straight into the kitchen. Severus pulled a large jar out of a cupboard and set it on the counter.

"Hold the creature away from you," Snape instructed, and though Harry felt it struggle as he took it away from his chest, he did as he was told. Snape took a large handful of white powder from the jar and dropped it over the top of Harry's hands.

Another growl emanated from the squirming mass, but it began to take form. Harry could make out wild fur, a body, and a flapping tail, but nothing else.

"What is that?" he asked of the powder, thinking perhaps that it was some kind of anti-invisibility powder that Snape had made in his Potion's lab.

"Flour," Snape said plainly, dropping another handful over the creature, revealing four legs, a head and, to Harry's dismay, a set of little furry wings that looked like a bat's. He fought the urge to drop the creature.

"Can I put him down now?" Harry asked, closing his eyes and turning his head away. There were no eyes, just holes where the flour refused to reveal anything.

"Yes," Snape said with a sneer, knowing the beast would probably track flour all around his kitchen floor.

After Harry set it down, he and Snape watched as it shook out it's fur like a wet dog and flour flew up into the air and filled the kitchen, though it was still visible, unable to get it all off of itself.

"What is it?" Harry asked. "Is it the Tupo thing or the protector?"

"It's pronounced Tulpa, and this creature has not done you any harm, correct?"

Harry nodded.

"The creature in the Great Hall drained you of magical energy. I believe the one in the Great Hall was the Tulpa."

"So- so there's a protector and a Tulpa?"

"I believe so."

Harry stared down at the creature. Maybe he needed the protector because of the Tulpa?

"Have you seen anything like this before?" Harry asked as the protector began licking itself clean, and the flour began to disappear on the animal's tail.

"It looks like a Kissan. A winged cat," he translated at Harry's confused look. "They are native Finland and other cold northern magical communities. I have only seen them in books."

"Well what do I do with it?"

"I do not know," Severus said then, and Harry looked up to see the man giving him a piercing glare.

"The question is, what does it have to do with you Potter?"

"It's protecting me from that Tulpa thing," Harry said as if it were quiet obvious. "It made it go away didn't it?" The protector was almost invisible again, though Harry could still see one ear and a bit of flour on the back of its head where it couldn't seem to reach with its wet paw.

"And angry Potion's Masters?" Snape questioned. Oh, that, Harry thought, remembering the man's scratched up leg from the other night.

"Maybe it doesn't like detention," Harry said defensively. It wasn't his fault after all that the little thing had attacked him.

"I see," Severus said. "I will escort you back to your dormitory, where you will stay unless escorted by a Professor, or your little beast." He motioned down to the one ear and one patch of flour that was visible bobbing around the kitchen in a circle around Harry's legs.

"What will I do about the Tulpa then? How do I get rid of it and the protector?"

Severus sneered. "Enough questions. I have work to do and don't have time to babysit you all night."

He motioned to the door from his quarters out into the other dungeon hallway, and Harry moved, not wanting to get detention again for arguing. The visible ear bobbed along behind him.

* * *

Hermione had the excellent idea it turned out, to tie a piece of clothing or ribbon to Harry's new ‘pet'.

"He won't let you," Harry cautioned. He didn't want to see his friend get clawed up.

"I'll be careful," Hermione insisted as she conjured a red collar with the Gryffindor logo on it and approached the one visible ear carefully.

"Can I put this on you?" she asked it. When no growl came, she felt for the neck and then clipped the collar on.

"See," she said. "Now you'll know when it's with you."

"Great," Ron said. "Two creatures lurking in the night, and they're both bound to be somewhere around you," he pointed at Harry.

"At least this one's nice," Harry offered, but Ron scoffed.

"Nice? It about ripped Snape's leg off, remember?

"Yeah but it chased away the Tulpa thing. You didn't see it Ron, that thing was nasty. It had skin falling off of it and everything. It was like a little troll."

"Did the Professor know where it came from Harry?" Hermione asked.

"No, he just said someone else conjured it and it thinks I'm its master."

"Don't sick it on me," Ron said, sitting cross legged on his bed.

"That's not fair, I didn't sick it on Draco. It just attacked him."

Ron smiled then. "If it's your master, you might as well use it before it tries to off you, right? Why not, you know, have some fun?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "Ron Weasley!"

"What? It's his monster, he can use it to- to- to tuck him in to bed," Ron finished lamely at the glare Hermione was sending his way.

She stuck her nose up in the air. "If you use it for anything I'm going straight to Professor McGonagall or Snape," she told Harry, before turning on her heel and leaving the second year boy's dormitory, slamming the door behind her.

"Girls," Ron muttered, and the little winged protector gave a low quiet growl from the foot of Harry's bed.

The next several days were relatively calm compared the previous week. Needless to say, the young Gryffindor was no longer afraid of the creature.  If anything, he was quickly becoming fond of it.  The red collar around its neck made it seem less wild and more docile.  

The protector seems to follow Harry everywhere, even to the loo.  Harry kept looking back expecting to see the protector trailing him, but it seems that it was very adept at hiding.  Sometimes, a red collar could be seen floating after Harry, bounding after him like it was attached to a invisible puppy. 

On occasion, Harry could hear purring sounds coming from near his feet and he assumed it was the protector. 

“You know what you should do, Harry?” Hermione asked, tilting her head to one side as she observed the invisible creature or rather, the depression on Harry’s bed where it had now taken up residence.

“What?” Harry asked back.

“You should name it,” she said happily.

“What? Name it?”

“Well why not.  It does seem quite attached to you, and it follows you everywhere.  It has a collar and it sleeps next to your bed. Why not give it a name? ”

“That thing is not a pet, Hermione,” said Ron.

“It doesn’t have to be a pet to have a name, Ron” Hermione responded. “Besides, it’s much more important than a pet.  From what you’ve told us so far, this creature’s sole purpose is to protect you, right Harry?”

“Um…we don’t know that much about it yet, but it did protect me from the Tulpa.”

“Exactly, it probably saved your life.  Don’t you think it deserves a name?”

“I guess…”

“So?  What are you going to call it then?”

Harry shurgged. “Er…I don’t know.  I’ll think about it I guess. Do you have any ideas?”

Ron shrugged too, giving Harry a look as if to say well don't ask me.

“Well, he’s your monster, you name it what you like," said Hermione

His monster? Harry kind of liked the sound of that, he thought as he watched the spot where the creature laid.  

"Anyway, I've got to go study, would you like to join me?" Hermione asked as she pushed herself up. 

Both Gryffindor boys shook their heads.  Hermione sighed.  She could never get anybody in Gryffindor to study with her. In fact, the only people in Gryffindor who wanted to study were the upper years.  But when she asked them, they said that the material was way beyond her and they didn't want to waste time explaining everything. That's okay though, she was used to studying by herself.  She got through elementary school studying on her own, and she could do it here too. 

After Hermione left, Harry and Ron chatted and played Exploding Snap before going to bed. Harry laid on his bed with the creature curled up next to him and was lulled to sleep by its rumbling purr. 

 ***

Severus had written the procedures on the board as usual, and instructed the students to follow them to the letter.  Every class, he told his students the importance of reading and following the instructions.  However, there was always a handful of students who refused to listen.  Severus scrutinized the students as they rushed to get the ingredients for today's assignment.  Unsurprisingly and almost immediately, Severus caught a student making a mistake before any prep work had started! Potter had took something from the student stores back to his table, something that was definitely not in the list of ingredients he had written.

“Can’t you read Potter?” Severus demanded from his pupil. “I’ve written the procedures clearly on the board.”

He made his way to Harry's desk and ordered Harry to stand up. When Harry didn’t obey immediately, the professor stood behind Harry and physically pulled the chair, with Harry still sitting in it, a full 2 inches backwards. 

Harry flinched noticeably and almost immediately, a small growl issued from underneath the boy's chair. The protector was not happy and its tiny but fierce growl had the desired effect. 

Severus gasped and took several steps back. He had forgotten all about the protector.   

Then, with as much dignity as he could muster, the potions master stepped forward again, albeit cautiously.  He wasn’t going to let some furry little cat creature get the better of him!

“Stand up, Mr. Potter,” said Severus in a stern voice, but Harry sat glued to his chair. H was just about to make Harry get up by putting on his most intimidating voice when another snarl was heard.

Severus growled himself.  He was very unaccustomed to being challenged in the classroom; especially not by some…thing.   However, he did not want another violent encounter with the protector, especially when there were students in the room.  The professor had tried very hard to exclude the creature from his classroom, citing several rules in the Hogwarts Giant Book of Rule: 343th edition. But all attempts to keep out, remove or chase away the protector had ended in failure.  So he was stuck with a potentially vicious creature in his classroom, guarding Potter like he was some sort of saint.

Saint Potter! Severus thought bitterly, always breaking the rules, well not in his classroom, not if he had anything to say about it, protector or no protector.

“So be it, it does not matter whether you sit or stand,” Severus drawled, taking his hands off the back of Harry’s chair. He strolled from behind the boy and stood next to his desk. 

Around him students began to whisper, for there had not been a time in recorded history that the feared potions master Severus Snape backed down to anyone other than the headmaster!  But nobody seemed to know why the potions professor backed down so easily. Everybody, both Slytherin and Gryffindor, expected Snape to give Harry a short but severe tongue lashing followed by detention if Harry wasn’t on his feet within 5 seconds.

“I want you to read those words on the board,” Snape drawled.

Harry stopped breathing.  Snape wanted him to do what???  The Gryffindor kept his head down and his voice silent. His heart began to speed up and he pushed himself into the chair. The boy began to sweat as he could feel the whole class watching him.   He could feel Ron and Hermione looking at him helplessly. 

“I would like not to have to repeat myself to you one more time this evening, Mr. Potter,” Severus said again, in a voice that was almost calm but said that if Harry didn’t start reading now he would be in detention for the rest of the year.

“The…the miniaturizing potion,” Harry started to read in a small voice, feeling himself start to shake all over. The only reason he could read the title was because Snape had told them what they were brewing, and underlined the words with a chalk when he said them.  But the instructions, the ingredients especially, there was just no way he would recognize the words.  

But he can’t have Snape and the whole class find out he could barely read!  His life would be over!  He’d be the laughing stock of the whole school once Malfoy spread the news around!  The boy who couldn’t read, they’d call him.  He felt so pathetic. 

But he couldn’t just sit there and look stupid!  Harry felt like he was stuck between a rock and several hard places, and hanging above a pit of scorpions.  He just didn’t know what to do!

Oh please, please don’t make me read them!

“Sometime today, Mr. Potter,” said Severus, his patience was wearing thin again.

“Um…you will require 1 bronze cauldron…erm….3 eye of goat,” Harry tried his hardest to speak smoothly, but his nerves got the better of him and his speech came out in broken bits and pieces, making him even more nervous.  He has a hard enough time reading to himself, and making sense of words on the page.  Reading out loud was something he was truly horrid at. Harry remembered that one time in 3rd grade, the whole class had laughed at him because he pronounced ‘island’ as ‘is-land’ as opposed to ‘i-land’. 

The boy’s face burned as he struggled to read the words and the snickering started.  This was 3rd grade all over again, only worse!

“…um, 1 portion of pre…um, pres…served dragon…co…clo…cloca.”

“Dragon cloaca, Potter!” Severus corrected, not bothering to insult Harry for his mistake or explain what the ingredient was. 

“Dragon cloaca,” Harry repeated after this professor.  He wringed his hand together and thought to himself. Okay, I’ve got this.  Only a bit more, then you’re through with the ingredients.

“2 clutches of s…smoked…niffler hair…”

“Two clutches of what now, Potter?”

“Niffler hair, sir?” Harry said timidly. 

 “Niffler hair?” Severus looked like he was about to burst into a tirade and tear Harry into tiny bits and pieces. He grabbed a cluck of hair and showed it to Harry. “You required 2 clutches of smoked Niffle Hare, you dunderhead! Niffle Hare, as in the animal, not hair! Can’t you tell the difference?”

The small, low growl came again. Harry felt the little monster brush against. It seemed to have wrapped himself around one of his legs.  Its red collar was the only thing that could be seen and it seemed to rattle as the protector snarled fiercely.

“What’s this?” said Severus as he spotted movement beneath his nose. He picked up the quill in mid motion and examined it.  This was a quick quotes quill! What was Potter doing with a quick quotes quill?

“What is this?” Severus enunciated sharply. “A quick quotes quill? You’re cheating, Potter.”

Harry shook his head frantically, “No, I…”

“Then, what do you call this?” the professor asked harshly, holding out the quill in Harry’s face and demanding an answer. “You lazy, arrogant little miscreant.  Is the famous Harry Potter too good to take his own notes?”

“No…no , sir.” Harry replied fearfully.

“We will see, Potter. You are not going to get away with cheating in my classroom."

It seemed that Harry James Potter was every bit the insolent, conniving little cheat that his father had once been, and Severus held the proof in his hands.

After all the nonsense that had occurred since he had stumbled upon Potter in that trick stair—the deadly beasts that stalked the boy, Potter’s meek behavior, and the unpalatable questions about the boy’s home life that secretly gnawed at Snape’s brain—none of that mattered now, because here was evidence that he, Severus Snape, had been right about the brat all along!

He twirled the quill between finger and thumb, positively seething at the audacity of the boy, and took a step forward to ensure that every word of his tongue lashing would reach its mark...

But then the loop of red ribbon floating by Potter’s feet shook menacingly, and Snape was reminded once again of his current limitations. If the Protector was reacting this aggressively, then he must truly be frightening the boy.

Good.

“Out,” Snape finally said, silky smooth. The Gryffindor looked up at that, wide-eyed and confused, and Snape scoffed. Did he truly believe he would not be punished?

“Sir?”

“To the hallway, Potter, or are you so dim that you cannot even understand a simple command?” The boy flushed and dropped his chin to chest as his classmates snickered around him. “Now, Potter! Leave your things; we’re going to discuss your behavior with the Headmaster when class is finished.”

Potter swallowed thickly, very nearly on the verge of tears, and slunk out of the classroom without another word. The Protector’s ribbon, Snape noted, lingered a bit longer, as if to stare him down.

Not to be intimidated, the Potions Master straightened to his fullest height and strode to the front of the class, not sparing a second glance at the invisible creature.

“I want samples of your potions on my desk in twenty minutes!” he growled at the remaining students, who seemed to be trying to puzzle out the exchange between their classmate and their most feared professor. They quieted immediately at the order, but he still felt their curious gazes from time to time.

As he was pulling the ungraded exams from the previous week, he thought he may have seen the red fabric of the Protector trotting out after its charge, but he purposefully averted his gaze.

He picked up the quill again. Upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn’t a quick quotes quill after all, at least not a professionally charmed one, which would explain why he hadn’t detected it during any of Potter’s exams.

Perhaps it didn’t elaborate on the boy’s words or fill in correct answers, to which Potter’s deplorable test grades could attest, but self-writing quills were still contraband, and therefore, punishable by a month’s worth of detentions.

But then, why bother risking punishment if there was no apparent reward? And where had the delinquent gotten it in the first place? Potter certainly hadn’t charmed it himself, unless he took to studying unassigned textbooks in his free time, an idea which Severus found laughable.

At the back of the classroom, the Granger girl quickly diced several grams of dragon cloaca and slung the fleshy cubes into her pestle. When she met Snape’s eyes, her nostrils flared with anger, and she set to viciously grinding the ingredients with a mortar.

Beside her, the Weasley dunce was attempting to scrape bits of exploded potion off of his robes and back into the cauldron.

Snape narrowed his eyes.

He was surprised that Granger, insufferable know-it-all that she was, endured the company of such dunderheads. Gryffindor loyalty aside,  Potter and Weasley’s complete disregard for the rules and their studies seemed to go against everything he knew of the girl. Surely it irritated her on some level, and yet she allowed herself to be associated with little prats.  Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time he had witnessed a clever witch be led astray.

No, Potter hadn’t charmed the quill  himself, but Severus had an idea of who had.

In fact, now that he’d had some time to rein in his temper, Severus was surprised to find that he could see things more clearly. Loathe as he was to admit it, the Headmaster might have been right on this one matter. The self-writing quill, the horrendous grades, and his own accusations of laziness that night in his living quarters when he believed Potter had refused to help...now that he had the answer, everything else seemed to fall neatly into place.

Harry Potter could not read, at least not very well.

How the boy had even made it through first year courses without it being detected, Severus could not fathom. He took a deep breath and massaged his temples, trying to fight down the nearly overwhelming feeling of guilt.

Nothing was ever simple with this boy.

In the hallway, Harry sat with his knees pulled under his chin and his arms wrapped around his head.

He could hardly believe what had just happened. Sure, he knew that he couldn’t keep the reading problem to himself much longer, but he had hoped he could hint at it after he had taught himself the basics. Never had he imagined it coming out in such a public and humiliating fashion: in front of his classmates and a handful of his worst enemies as he stuttered his way through potions ingredients.

“Damn that greasy dungeon bat and his stupid, rotten Niffle hares,” he groused, rubbing at a pain in his forehead and then swatting at a fly incessantly buzzing around his head.

Malfoy would ensure that news of his humiliation spread around the school by dinner, and then Harry would never be able to face his classmates again!

He rubbed his eyes on his pant leg, and then another thought occurred to him.

Once the professors knew that he could barely read, would he still be allowed at Hogwarts? A wizard who couldn’t read a spell was about as much use with a wand as a squib, wasn’t he? Sure he’d gotten by last year, but just barely and mostly because he’d relied heavily on Ron and Hermione. Would Dumbledore send him back to Privet Drive until he was on par with the students his age?

Fat chance of him improving at the Dursleys’! A new wave of misery swept over him at the thought.

The fly buzzed near his ear again, flew spastically up towards the ceiling, before nose-diving for another go at Harry’s ears, but this time it didn’t make it, as it unwittingly flew into the open mouth of an invisible creature. Harry heard a few wet crunches, and then the irritating fly was no more.

He felt his little monster brush up against his legs with a purr that wasn’t quite like a cat’s, but close enough in Harry’s mind that he imagined a miniature version of one of Mrs. Figg’s cats. He ran his fingers through its wild hair and was comforted in the fact that at least someone, or rather something understood him.

His scar twinged again, and Harry pressed the palm of his hand against it. His forehead hadn’t ached like this in a while, but Snape had been especially rotten. To accuse him of cheating in front of everyone like that, the thought of the man made Harry’s blood boil! When he returned his hand to where his little monster had once been, he was surprised when his fingers met only the cold stone surface of the dungeon floors.

He looked up and briefly spotted the red ribbon farther down the hallway, creeping at a slow pace along the bottom of a tapestry, before it disappeared around a corner.

Harry blinked, suddenly incredibly curious to know what the creature was up to.

“Hey,” he managed in a loudish sort of whisper. “Pssst! Hey you!” But the creature didn’t return.

Potions was going to be over soon, but it was a very rare occasion that the creature willingly separated itself from Harry. What if it expected Harry to follow?

He was just going to peek down the other corridor,  he reasoned as he jumped to his feet and took off after his invisible friend. Unfortunately, he rounded the corner just in time to see the little monster’s red collar crashing into a suit of armor with more force than Harry imagined possible for something of its size. The violence of the collision sent the pieces of the suit flying in all directions, and Harry, worried for the creature’s safety, went wading into the pile of metal to dig out his friend.

He heard a wet crunch as he knocked aside a plate helmet and for a horrible moment, he thought the creature had been injured, but as he leaned in toward the disheveled red ribbon, he caught a glimpse of a large fly’s wing and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Harry couldn’t remember seeing any flies down here before. Were the dungeons usually this infested? If so, Harry thought he’d hate to dorm in Slytherin or Hufflepuff. He’d dealt with more than his fair share of bugs in his cupboard!

Harry carefully lifted the catlike form from the debris and happily clutched it to his chest. If he had looked farther down the corridor, near the abandoned classrooms, he would have seen maggots twisting in the open sore of a rotting hand, which gripped the doorframe and disappeared.

“What’s going on here, Potter?”

Oh crap! How could he explain this without getting into more trouble?

“Well, it’s kind of a funny story.”

"I- my monser... the protector I mean, did it."

He failed to see how this was a ‘funny story'. The boy was apparently holding the creature, who didn't appear to be moving.

"Into my office, now. You will wait there, and I will NOT find any more damage if you plan on making it back to your common room tonight." He pointed down the hall and though Harry looked uncertain, he moved off, looking back over his shoulder once.

Harry felt strange going to Snape's office without him, and was surprised to find it unlocked. He would have thought Snape would have kept all of his things locked up tight, he certainly did seem the type to be overly cautious of ‘small trouble making brats' like Harry. If he weren't in so much trouble he might have laughed at the imaginary voice of Snape which he'd conjured in his mind.

He sat in the visitors chair and stroked his little monster's fur, wondering if he were ok. It seemed like he was knocked out. He (or was it a she) was still breathing, and Harry couldn't feel any blood or other injury, so he assumed it would be ok, or at least he hoped it would be.

In what seemed like no time at all, the door opened behind him and he startled as Snape came in and slammed the door behind him. Harry wished then that Potions wasn't his last class of the day before dinner, so that Snape wouldn't have ample time to yell at him and set punishments for him.

"What is this Potter?" he asked, tossing the quill down onto his desk as he moved around it and took a seat in his own chair on the other side.

"My quill," Harry said very quietly.

"Your cheating quill," Severus said. He wanted to know exactly what the quill was for.

"I don't cheat," Harry said unhappily, a little indignation rising within him but not wanting to give way to the fear that he was going to spend all night in detention and then be forced to go back to Gryffindor alone with the fetid Tulpa on the loose.

"No?" Snape asked. "What does it do then? Self-writing quills are banned at Hogwarts. I knew you were lazy Potter, but this has brought you to an all-time low. Too lazy to even take your own notes or write your own assignments? Too lazy to take your own tests perhaps?"

"It's not like that," Harry said. He bit his lip. He could say he couldn't read, but why give the man more fuel to throw on the fire already flaming against him? He could hear his voice now, mocking him in his head, ‘Oh, poor pampered Potter, too good to learn to read?' No, he didn't want to be mocked anymore.

"Tell me what it is like then Potter. Even if you had not been caught cheating, you are still in trouble for refusing to stand up in class and read the board, and breaking Slytherin's suit of armor."

"I didn't do that," Harry protested. "He did it. He was sitting next to me eating a little fly, then he ran off down the hall. I went to see where he'd gone, but he was being thrown around into the suit of armor and there was a giant fly wing on the floor." He looked down to his little monster now, who still hadn't woken, and lifted the limp form to set on Snape's desk. "He hasn't woken up yet."

Severus straightened. "Was there any sign of the Tulpa?"

Harry froze. The Tulpa? He hadn't even thought of that. "I didn't see or smell it..." it unsettled him now to think that it might have been somewhere in the corridor with him while he sat and waited for class to get out.

Snape reached out to stroke the invisible furry creature, and felt it breathing. "We do not know much about the protector. It is here, but in a sense it is not real. I'm certain it will be fine. Now, back to the quill and your disobedience in class. I will not stand for you refusing to do what you are told just because you have a wild little beast always on the verge of attack."

Harry looked away. He wasn't really refusing, he thought, playing back the incident in his mind. He had been too engrossed in his fear of humiliation to pay attention to what he had been told to do.

"No answer Potter?"

He bit his lip and didn't look up. He wished his little monster was still in his lap to comfort him. He liked the warmth, but thought he might look foolish if he reached up for it to take it off the desk.

Severus was growing more impatient by the second with the brat's refusal to answer. Fine, be that way, he thought to himself. I'll drag the answers from you in a way you won't like. He turned and pulled a book from the shelf behind his desk and set it in front of the boy, opened to the first page.

"Read it."

Harry looked up. "What?"

"I will not repeat myself."

Harry let his eyes flicker down to the book and the jumble of letters he found there. "Th- th- these p-p-po-pot- pot-ions are f-fr-fro-from n-nor-th-er-n..." he bit his lip and stopped reading.

"You can continue, or you can tell me about the quill and your disobedience in class."

Harry looked up with the same horrified look he'd had both times he'd been asked to read aloud that day.

"Now Potter."

He hung his head and said almost too quietly to hear, "I'm no good at reading."

"Speak up Potter."

"I'm no good at reading," he repeated a little louder.

"And this gives you an excuse to cheat in class and not obey?"

"No sir," he mumbled. "I don't cheat," he added as an afterthought.

Severus sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, giving the insolent child a hard look but not saying anything. Silence always brought out answers from squirmy children.

"It's so I can spell," Harry finally said. "I can't spell. So when I tell it a word, it writes it down."

"And takes notes for you in class," Severus said.

"Yes sir."

"And how is it Potter, that at 12 years old you still cannot read?"

He shrugged. "I do not accept shrugs as an answer."

"Nobody taught me."

"Did you not attend school before Hogwarts?"

Harry shrugged again. He did, but that didn't mean they'd taught him to read. Dudley always distracted him or got him into trouble so that he was out in the hallway during lessons instead of inside at his desk learning. The further he fell behind, the harder it was to understand things. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hadn't been any help either. They'd always made a show of helping Dudley with his homework and reading, sometimes even to the point of doing his work for him, but Harry had always been made to sit in his cupboard alone with the door closed to do his work.

"Potter, if you shrug one more time, there will be no question that you'll be serving detention tonight."

Harry finally looked back up. "They didn't teach me how to read. I was always in the hallway during class time."

"Like today?"

"Yes."

"Then it is your own fault for disobeying and getting into trouble during lessons."

"No!" Harry shouted, finally angry, chest swelling with indignation. It wasn't fair! His shout seemed to have caused the protector to stir, and it emitted a piteous little noise before going quiet again. They looked at the space on the desk for a few moments where the collar hovered a few inches off the surface before Severus turned his attention back to Harry.

"Detention tonight Potter. You are to come here at exactly seven pm. Do not be late."

Harry looked up, mouth hanging partly open. No, he couldn't expect the dungeon bat to understand, could he? He was sure the man probably came from one of those pureblood family's like Draco's who had tutors to help the children all year long.

He reached for his little monster as he stood up but Severus said sharply, "No, leave it here. I don't want any more damage to school property today."

Harry turned and left, feeling empty and angry at the same time. Detention and he'd lost his protector, the only one who seemed to give one whit about his safety and wellbeing. If the Dursleys had cared, Harry would have been able to read by now, and the same went for the teachers in primary. It looked like Hogwarts was just the same story in a different place. Same crap, different day, he thought to himself bitterly.

As he made his way up to the Great Hall for dinner, a fetid little creature followed him from shadow to shadow, a twisted smile on his gnarled lips.

After supper, Harry made his way to Snape’s office to serve his undeserved detention.  It wasn’t fair! None of this was his fault!  It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t learn how to read. Dudley was always making trouble for him. And his accidental magic was responsible for a big part of it too. He wasn’t trying to be disobedient and bad.

Snape was giving him detention for no reason at all! 

It simply was not fair!

He dragged his feet down to the dungeons, with his shoulders slouched over a great pout on his face. He knocked on Snape’s office door and waited. 

Harry heard grunting and banging coming from the other side of the door. It sounded as though somebody was rummaging through cupboard.  He put his ears up against the door, curious. The sudden the sound of shattering glass made Harry jump backwards.  The boy stood in the corridor, alone. Maybe he should just go? But he was supposed to have detention, and Snape wouldn’t like it at all if he decided to ditch.

“Professor Snape?” Harry called out nervously, and knocked on the door again. “Sir?”

The noises stopped and he heard footsteps coming closer.  He felt his little monster weave around his legs.

The heavy door slid open to reveal a very irritated looking Potions Master.  The man looked pale and sweaty. Harry took a step backwards as the tall professor loomed over him.

“Potter? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my detention, sir?” said Harry.  It was unlike Snape to forget a detention.

The Potions Master frowned deeply, his face wrinkling up like a prune. “Detention? Yes, I…detention is postponed tonight, Potter, go back to your dorm, and stay there!”

“Professor, what’s going on?” Harry asked, not that he was protesting the postponed detention.  

“Nothing, Potter,” Snape snapped. “Do as I say now!”

Harry cringed at the harsh tone and he heard the creature give small rumble.

“And keep that thing of yours under control!” Snape said before he slammed the door shut.

Harry took a great risk and made a face at his mean professor…well, the door anyway.

***

Harry sat alone in his room, feeling sorry for himself.  He was happy that he got out of detention tonight, but that only meant he’d have to serve it another night.  Honestly, he wished he could have just got it over with.

Everybody was downstairs. Ron said he’d come up when he’s finished beating a fifth year boy at Wizards Chess. The Twins had played a bet on the fifth year boy, that he couldn’t beat their brother, best out of five.  After watching the third game, Harry got bored and went upstairs.

As soon as he slid open the door, is little monster scampered onto the bed and promptly burrowed itself into the covers.

Hedwig was waiting for him at the window, pecking at the closed window to be let in.  Harry quickly went over and unlatched the window for her.

 “Here, girl. What’s up?” he pampered and petted his owl on the head.

Hedwig hooted at him, she spread her wings and flapped inside, settling down on Harry’s mattress. The owl immediately noticed the lump on Harry’s bed and sent death glares at it. The snowy bird had an expression on her face that Harry could only describe as indignation. She squawked, as if to say what the heck is that thing?”   

The little monster shifted under the covers and purred. It had claimed Harry’s bed as its own.  Gryffindor Tower was one of the few places the little monster let itself relax.

Hedwig hooted again, and reached out a leg, poking the creature in the rear.  The little monster complained loudly, tunnelling out of the covers with speed.  It stood on all four of its paws, facing its assaulter and let out a disgruntled wail that sounded like a cross between a baby goat and a mother cheetah.

Hedwig seem unperturbed by the creature.  She glared down at it with her large, yellow eyes and clicked her beak.

The Protector swished its tail.  Harry could tell because Ginny had tied a bow at the end of it half an hour ago.  The little monster didn’t seem bothered by it, but Harry knew he couldn’t have the critter following him around Hogwarts, with a girly ribbon on its tail.  He’d have to remove it before morning.

Hedwig extended her wings and flapped wind at it.

The little monster wiggled its rear end and pounced.

Hedwig hooted unhappily and dodged out of the way by lifting herself into the air.  Harry’s little monster gave chase, bouncing on the bed and flopping around like a fish, wailing at the offensive bird.  Hedwig hooted back in fierce argument.

“Hey, stop that!” Harry cried, spinning around to try and keep track of the two animal foes. “Shush! “

But Harry’s frantic attempts to try and hush the two creatures fell on deaf ears.  The two animals chased each other around the room, flying and running circles around the young Gryffindor.  They bumped and crashed into tables, shifting chairs and hurtling through bed curtains, making a right racket

Hedwig dive-bombed the little monster and the furry critter leaped six feet into the air, spread its wings and gave chase.  It was unnerving watching a collar and ribbon fly around the room, making odd noises.  Harry began to worry for his beloved owl.  The small beast had been able to take on Snape, Hedwig wouldn’t stand a chance.   But the owl seemed to hold her own, her feathers weren’t even ruffled.  The two enemies flapped around the room, twisting around the bedposts with agility.

The Gryffindor heard a shout coming from downstairs   “What the bloody hell is going on?”

He renewed his efforts to stop the squabbling creatures. “Stop it right now!  Hedwig!  Come down here! You!” Harry pointed at the scampering creature, which had landed on one of the beds. “…heel!” He commanded.

Finally, Hedwig flew to the top of Harry’s canopy and turned her back on all of them. The little monster let out one last roar before it hopped down and strutted over to Harry’s legs. It curled itself against them, as if it was immensely proud of itself for having fended off a mighty fiend. 

Harry heaved a sigh.

At that moment, the door swung open and in stepped his best friends.

“Harry’s what’s all the commotion?  I heard you all the way from the common…” Hermione asked and stopped in mid-sentence as she saw the room. “…room”

“Woooahh…Harry what did you do?” Ron shouted, surveying the room with an open mouth.  The room was a mess – that was an understatement - the room was a chaotic quagmire of fallen books, scattered belongings and a jumble of bed sheets that were now on the floor.  

“Uhhh…”

“I’m not cleaning that up,” said Ron, putting his hands up as he stepped into the room.

Harry pouted. “Well it’s not my fault!”

“Harry, you’re the only one in the room.”

“I can’t help it if Hedwig decided to pick a fight.”

Hedwig hooted twice from her post on the canopy.  

“Hedwig, what’s the matter with you.” Harry scolded.  The great snowy bird twisted its head around 180 degrees and gave Harry a wounded look.  Harrys ran his hands through his mop-like hair.

“What? You started it,” Harry said, frowning.

Hedwig clicked her beak together, spread her wings and dived at Harry’s head.  She barely scrapped his head as her claws twisted around his hair, pulling out a few strands of it. Clearly, she meant him no great harm. But Harry protested nonetheless.

“Ow! Hey!”

The protector growled again, leaping up into the air after the owl.  But Hedwig flew right through the window and into the silent night.

Harry grumbled.  “That’s  what happened.  Sorry, I don’t know what’s got into her.”  He bent over and picked up his protector and went to sit on the bed.  The creature purred in his arms.

Ron and Hermione followed, carefully stepping over the mess on the floor and sitting next to Harry.

“Well, I can think of one reason,” said Hermione.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, as he proceeded to remove the girly ribbon from the critter’s tail.

“I think Hedwig’s jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Well yea.  Owls are very smart you know. They are very sentimental and loyal creatures, though they often act aloof.  Some people say that they are even more emotional than dogs.”

“She’s an owl, she can’t be jealous!”

“I think,” Hermione continued, “that owls are more like cats than dogs in a lot of ways. I have cats at home, and trying to introduce a new one into the family is worse than trying to make you and Draco get along.”

“Uhh, right.”

“You don’t have to worry about it, they’ll be fine once they get used to each other.”

Harry sighed and looked out the window, wondering where Hedwig had gone.

"I'm not replacing you," Harry told her quietly as Dean and Neville hurried out to shower and brush their teeth, leaving Harry alone with his pets. "I still love you Hedwig." Hedwig had gotten him through the lonely summer without his friends. She'd been trapped in his room just like he had with all those bars on the windows and the four locks on the outside of his door. Together they'd eeked out an existence and ate whatever cold soup or scraps aunt Petunia had pushed in through the cat flap. Hedwig was the only one there for him to talk to, and he'd had many lengthy conversations with her, her eyes always watching him as if she understood but couldn't respond like he might have wanted.

Hedwig finally pulled her face out of her feathers and stared at him, and Harry felt like she would have told him in that moment that she loved him too.

"You're it Hedwig," Harry said. "You're all I've got. There's no guarantee I get to go back to the Burrow at the end of the school year. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I forgot about you. I didn't. I wouldn't." She blinked at him, hooted softly, and allowed him to pet her feathers for several moments without nipping at his hand. Ron came back in to get a book he'd forgotten and gave Hedwig a wary look before giving the same look to the still sleeping protector on Harry's bed.

"Maybe Hedwig would be happier in the Owlery," Ron said, trying to be helpful. "Not sure why she even came in here last night at all. She's usually up there isn't she?"

"Hedwig can stay whenever she wants," Harry said, looking into Hedwig's eyes. Why had she come up last night though? Harry looked around and spied a scroll on the floor half under his nightstand. She must have brought him a letter, but it lay forgotten as she and his little monster had fought and tore his and Ron's portion of the dorm room apart.

"What's that?" Ron asked, stuffing his homework and forgotten book into his bag.

"Looks like it's from Snape," Harry said.

Ron held out his hand for the parchment and when Harry handed it over, read out loud so Harry wouldn't struggle with it, "Your detention is rescheduled for this evening at seven. Bring your protector."

"Wonderful," Harry muttered, and then said, "Thanks," to his friend for reading the letter to him.

"Why'd it get cancelled last night anyway?"

"No idea," Harry said. "It sounded like something was going on in his office. Maybe he was rearranging furniture or something."

Classes went by in a rush since Defense was cancelled for the day since all of the other teachers were busy, and Harry and his friends spent their free period tossing a beat up Quaffle that belonged to the school around on the front lawns. Some of the Slytherins from their class had followed them out and Harry was surprised when Pansy huffed and stalked over to them to tell him off for throwing it wrong.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Cradle it when you catch it and hurl it over your head for distance with a wrist flick at the end."

"Erm-" Harry said as she took the Quaffle from him and threw it a great distance to Ron. Harry had never learned to throw a Quaffle at practices as he'd spent all his time practicing Seeker techniques.

"Thank you is what you say when someone helps you," Pansy said, clearly waiting for Ron to throw the ball back to her. He did, though he shrugged at Harry after he had done so. The Slytherins never wanted to spend time with them. Pansy threw it to Hermione, who quietly caught it and then tossed it to Harry. Harry dropped it and Pansy took it from his hands again after he picked it up.

"Cradle it Potter. Like this." She threw it up in the air and then when she caught it she pulled her arms back to cradle it like one would a baby. "Cushion the blow and use both hands. Catch it in your arm and use your other hand to keep it there."

She stared at him as if waiting for something, and Harry said, "Thank you."

Satisfied, she tossed the ball the few feet to Harry and he cradled it, and then hurled it to Ron. The throw still left something to be desired but she didn't criticize it as Harry had at least done as she'd told him to.

Harry and Ron looked to the group of Slytherins, who included Crabbe and Millicent, to see what they thought of Pansy playing with three Gryffindors, but they didn't seem to mind and stayed where they were sitting on the grass and enjoying the sunshine. The group played quietly for the next twenty minutes, no one saying a word, except when Pansy finally corrected Hermione's throw, and then they packed up their belongings to go to Charms, the Slytherin's headed in to go to Transfiguration.

"You're welcome," Pansy said, not angry but clearly waiting for something.

"Thank you," Harry said, and it was echoed by Hermione.

When they separated Ron said quietly, "That was strange."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"They're Slytherins. They don't help people, and they don't hang out with us."

"Other houses do things together," Hermione said. She had a friend in Ravenclaw she sometimes spent weekends with in the library and was friendly with a younger boy in Hufflepuff whom she sometimes helped with Astronomy assignments.

"Yeah but- they're not like other people," Ron said.

"Maybe they want to be friends but Draco's always such a jerk they don't get a chance," Harry commented. Ron and Hermione both looked over at him as they went up the stairs to the first floor.

"That's a very insightful thought Harry," Hermione said, surprised. Ron didn't comment, but Harry didn't have much time to think on the strange interaction with the small group of Slytherins as his thoughts were consumed by classes and the impending detention that evening.

* * *

Anxiety filled Harry now as it did every time he had to enter the dungeons, and he hurried down the corridor, not daring to release his breath until he was inside the Potion Master's office. The man looked him up and down as if to be certain he hadn't been harmed, noted the look of relief on his face, and chose not to comment on it.

"Detention was cancelled last night because I was dealing with the flies."

"The- flies?" Harry asked.

"They were indeed part of the Tulpa. You said your protector ate one and then was thrown through the air at a suit of armor?"

"Yes sir. and then a gigantic wing was left on the floor next to its mouth." Harry shuddered internally and thought to himself again, ‘disgusting.'

The Tulpa appears to be able to send part of itself out as flies and perhaps other small creatures. Harry shuddered visibly this time. "I gathered as many of the flies as I could in a jar, and the wing left from the one your protector ate, and stored them in my office to examine later. When I returned after dinner for your detention, they had broken through the glass, grown larger than a Snitch and were attacking my person."

Harry's eyes were wide, and when he glanced up and saw the look on Harry's face Snape snorted.

"I am fine, thank you for your concern," Snape said sarcastically.

"They're gone now sir," Harry practically squeaked, looking around the office that had now been restored as if expecting to see fly remnants on the walls and floor.

"They have been dispatched."

Harry let out a sigh. He'd really been hoping for a quiet year this time around. Sure, it had been exciting trying to figure out the mystery of the three headed dog and the trap door and then all the traps and puzzles the teacher's had set, but Harry had no desire to go through another ordeal like the one with Quirrell and Voldemort. He just wanted to survive classes and perhaps find out what that group of Slytherins earlier in the day had really wanted.

"Now to business," Snape said, growing serious. Harry's eyes focused and met Snape's from the other side of the man's desk. "I want to know the details of how you managed to get through your first year not being able to read."

"I can read some," Harry said defensively, but he deflated a little as Snape's knowing look. "Ok, Ron reads things to me like my mail, and Hermione reads chapters of our books out loud to us so we can get the information we need to study and do our homework."

"And it did not occur to you to attempt to learn to read?"

"Hermione's been helping some, but she's busy a lot with homework. Ron wrote all the letters of the alphabet out for me, but it's hard to read his cursive. He tries to help me sound words out in class, but he doesn't always get a chance."

"I'm talking about seeking the help of a teacher Potter," but the boy gave Severus such a look, a look that clearly said, ‘why would I want to do that?' that Severus sighed.

"Did your previous teachers not attempt to help you?"

"They- I was in trouble a lot," Harry said, waiting for the man to go off on another tirade against him being a trouble maker, but he didn't.

"Explain."

"I had class with my cousin," Harry said. It was a small town and a small school with only one classroom per grade level, so even if Harry had known to ask, there was no possibility of him switching to a class without Dudley. When Snape didn't respond, Harry looked up and realized he was waiting for more information. "We don't get along. He'd do things in class and blame it on me and get me sent to the hall, or he'd tell the teacher I was cheating when I wasn't and I'd get sent to the office."

"So you did not spend enough time in class to learn anything," Severus said.

"No sir."

"And your family? Why did you not ask them for help?"

Harry shrugged and didn't respond, instead choosing to look down at his hands. His protector was lying across the top of his feet snoozing silently. He supposed that would have to be enough comfort for now.

"You will not make it through school without knowing how to read Potter," Snape said, and Harry nodded. He knew that. "As your courses become harder, more and more reading will be assigned, and your friends will not be able to help you keep up with it. In later years some independent study of subjects that interest you is encouraged and required for advanced projects in many of your classes, which means you will need to read the material yourself."

"Yes sir."

"If you will put in the effort to learn, then I will teach you."

"Sir?" Harry asked. He looked up and his little monster stirred but didn't make a sound.

"Do you agree to these terms Potter?"

"Erm-" he didn't see that he had much of a choice. "Yes." Then, quite unexpectedly Pansy's voice chimed in the back of his head from earlier in the day snapping at him to say thank you when help was being given. "Thank you," Harry said, and the surprised look on Snape's face amused and pleased Harry at the same time.

Snape didn't seem to know what to say to that, so he didn't. Instead he pulled a desk drawer open and pulled out a children's book that looked far too young for Harry or any of the other students there. It had pictures of a bear and a fox and the words were large and bold.

Snape slid the book across the desk and opened it to the first page. There was a capital letter A, a lower case A, and a sentence where most of the words were small and started with the letter A.

"You will read aloud and I will correct you if you need correcting. I need to see what level you are at to know where to start teaching you."

"Yes sir." Harry stared down at the page. "A," he said, and then he repeated it for the little A. "A."

The sentence looked a lot harder. "An a-app-leee ro-ll-s ale - all-on-g a road."

Harry pulled back as Snape's hand appeared from across the desk and pointed to the first word in the sentence. Harry flinched hard thinking he was going to be struck, but Snape simply stared at him and waited for him to look back at the page. Snape began to read, pointing at the words as he went. "An apple rolls along a road." He moved his finger back to the first word of the sentence again and said, "Look at each word I point at and read it as I have just done."

"An - apple - rolls - along - a - road," Harry said.

Snape described to him the two sounds the letter A makes and had Harry repeat it, and then told him when to use a capital A when writing and when to use a lowercase A. It was ten full minutes before they moved onto the next page, which had B. They were only to letter E before it was time for Harry's ‘detention' to be over, and Snape was assigning him homework. Harry was surprised that the man was handing his charmed quill back to him.

"You are to speak a list of ten words each for the letters A through D and after the quill writes them down you are to read them to yourself. Return here in two nights at seven for the next lesson and bring the words you've been working on with you."

"Yes sir."

Harry stood, his protector in his arms and before he went into the hallway said, "Thank you sir," and disappeared. Snape only stared after him. How had several years worth of teachers and his family not helped him learn the basic skill of reading? Severus didn't want the task of teaching the Brat-Who-Lived to read, but it was his duty as a teacher to do so once the deficiency had been identified. Could the boy's cousin read? He thought to ask him the next time he saw him. A fly flew in through Severus' open office door however and he cursed softly, pulling out his wand, ready for another evening fight with the Tulpa, who had seemed to make him his permanent target.