As Harry waited, trying to fight the urge to fidget, he glanced around at the myriad of trinkets around Dumbledore's office, his eyes eventually rising up to the mantle above the fireplace. The sorting hat was there looking lifeless next to a canister of what Harry could only assume was floo powder, and a small blue orb sitting on a white cloth. At the sight of the hat, he wondered suddenly if the thing had placed him in the right house after all. It had tried to put him into Slytherin last year, hadn't it? Maybe he should have listened and let it put him there. It might have made things easier now.

Stepping closer without realizing it, Harry continued to stare up at it in the silence, and was surprised when it suddenly sprang to life and narrowed the rips that served as eyes at him.

"Was there something you wanted to know Gryffindor?"

He shook his head. No, maybe he didn't want to know if he really belonged in Slytherin. It might have helped, but it could also have made things worse. He hated to think about what would have happened if he'd been under the iron rule of Snape for all this time.

"No? You just wanted to stand there and stare at me?"

"Yes," Harry said, and then changed his mind. "I mean no."

"Yes or no child, make up your mind."

"Yes, I wanted to know, and no, I didn't want to just stare at you. Sorry."

"There is no need to apologize to me. I'm not alive after all."

"Why did you want to put me into Slytherin, really?"

"I would have thought, with your most recent discovery, that it would be obvious."

"So..." Harry paused. "You knew?"

"I have sorted every student that has been through this school since its foundations were laid Gryffindor. I am as old as the stone you stand on. I hear the thoughts; feel the desires and intents of every student that walks these corridors. I knew the moment I touched your head that you desired a family. Not so unlike another boy who I once placed in Slytherin."

"But... you knew that he's..."

"Your father? I knew he loved your mother. I knew he was fond of her when I first sorted him. He hated me for separating them. Like you, he was often in trouble for bending or severely breaking the rules, and often found himself standing where you are now. He placed me on his head several more times before he left this place, and I knew his love for your mother then as well."

"What about my father? I- I mean James Potter. Did he love my mother?"

"Very much, but it was a different kind of love. The kind bourn from a need to be the best, to have the best. He desired her, loved her for being there for him, but it was not a love of need. Not like your father's."

"I don't understand."

"No young Gryffindor, I do not expect that you do. You are young still, and that understanding will come with time. What I can tell you is this: When someone needs someone else; when they so desperately tie the very essence of their existence to being around another person, that is a strong love... much I daresay, the same type of love a mother has for her son. Enough to know that without her son, life is not worth living, so it was better to sacrifice herself for you."

Harry grumbled then and the hat said sharply, "Speak up! I don't actually have ears you know!"

"If he loved her that much he should be dead then instead of James."

"Unfortunately Gryffindor, things do not always work out the way one plans, and there are more ways to die than in death itself."

Harry stared at the hat in awe. No one had ever talked to him like this... like he was old enough to understand, despite the fact that he really didn't. He liked being respected... treated like he was smart.

"Yes?" The hat asked, and Harry frowned.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but you wanted to put me on."

"Did not," Harry protested with a frown on his face, but at a stern look from the hat, his face softened a little as he gave in. "Ok, maybe just a little."

"You have my permission to do so, but I cannot guarantee you will like the results of trying me on for a second time."

"What harm can it do? My- well, Professor Snape tried you on more than once."

"Yes, and he was always angry with me in the end."

He bit his lip. "Well you won't hurt me, will you?"

"I am the only one who I can say for sure, will not."

Harry reached up tentatively, pulled his hand back, and then reached forward again, taking the hat gently off the mantle.

"Be sure before you place me on your head Gryffindor."

"I- I am," he said. He didn't know what would happen when he put the hat on, but he wanted to know. Snape had done it. Maybe it would help him gain some insight into this man that was supposed to be his father. This man who hated and despised him. He set it on his head, and like it had done last year, it fell right down over his eyes.

"You still desire a family," it said in his ear, and Harry remained silent.

"You desire to know more about the family you have."

"He's not my family," Harry said, feeling defeated. After all these years wishing to have someone to care for and love him, and the only person available was Snape, a person incapable of love, no matter what the hat claimed about him and Lily.

"You desire to know Professor Snape."

Harry didn't protest, and the hat said, "I have made my decision Harry Potter. Take me off your head."

He did as he was told and set the hat back on the mantle, facing him. "Go and do as you desire."

Eyebrow raised, Harry was just about to ask what the hat meant when a door to his left opened, and the Headmaster walked in.

"Ah, Harry my boy. There you are."

"Here I am," he agreed, not being too happy about the confusing conversation with the Sorting Hat.

"I understand there was some trouble in Herbology this morning?"

Harry shrugged. He would have liked to have said that it wouldn't happen again, but he'd never figured himself a spaz in the first place, and hadn't counted on it happening the first time. He was sure Draco was spreading the news around the school about his little ‘freak out'.

"Are you feeling better now?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry, hands in his pockets, shrugged again.

"I guess."

"Good, good. I'll give you a note so you won't lose points being late for your next class. Charms is it?"

"Yes sir," Harry said, incredulous at the fact that the man didn't even want to ask him what the incident had been about.

Dumbledore waved his wand and a note appeared on parchment with his signature. "Have a good rest of the day then Harry, and please give Professor Flitwick my regards."

Harry took the note. "Ok," he said, and turned towards the door, still confused at what had happened in the last hour.

In the corridor, Harry noted that the parchment was blank except for the signature, and hoped Professor Flitwick wouldn't give him a hard time about it. Sometimes he thought Dumbledore was a little absent-minded over things like this. When he entered Charms a few minutes later however and gave Flitwick the note, he seemed satisfied, and Harry took his seat next to Ron and Hermione, feeling embarrassed that the rest of the Gryffindors had seen him melt down. At least he hadn't cried, and he'd only broken two of Professor Sprout's new pots.

"Alright, yeah?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded.

"Fine."

"Did you get detention?"

"No."

"What happened then?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

They turned back towards Flitwick as he started lecturing again, and Harry was content to let the morning's incident melt away as he became absorbed in the lesson. He couldn't know how wrong he was though, when he'd told his best friend that nothing had happened. The Sorting Hat had special things in mind for Harry Potter.

Frowning, Harry looked down at his robes and was dismayed to find that the cuffs were no longer red, but green. "What?"

Hermione was looking at Harry's robes now too. "The Gryffindor crest has gone," she said, and Harry felt like his eyes were going to bug out of his head when he pulled his robes away from him to see the Slytherin crest there on his chest instead.

"I didn't do anything to them," Harry said.

"Well take them off, before people notice." Feeling glad to do as Ron had said, Harry unbuttoned them and let them fall to the floor. He only had two pairs of robes, and wasn't sure what he was going to do with this green robe now. He wondered if the Slytherins were secretly playing a prank on him and had transfigured them, but after a quick look at the Slytherin table and a sneer from Draco, he didn't think that was what had happened.

"We should burn them," Ron leaned in and whispered.

"I don't have money to buy new ones," Harry said, and just then Hermione cleared her throat beside him.

"Are you wizards or not?"

Ron glared at her from across the table and Harry looked confused.

"Give them here," she ordered in a teacher like voice, and Harry reached down to the floor to hand them to her. He and Ron were still staring at her three full minutes later however when her last several attempts at transfiguring them back hadn't worked.

"Check the name," Ron said wisely. Every student's name was always embroidered in the tag on the inside. Hermione peered into the robe and handed it back to Harry.

"It says Harry Potter," Harry mumbled, stuffing them down under the table again.

"Probably just a prank," Ron said, feeling sage and not seeming perturbed at all by the color change. This was Harry Potter after all, who had defeated the biggest Slytherin supporter of all time. How could he be anything but a Gryffindor?

"Do you think... you know, that it has something to do with him?" Harry gave the tiniest tilt of his head sideways towards the staff table without actually looking up there. He didn't even want to think of Snape let alone look at the man.

"He can't change the rules," Ron said. "He hates you anywa- OW!" he jumped and Harry jumped as well before he realized that Hermione had kicked him under the table. Ron gave her a fierce glare before rubbing his leg and continuing, "It's not like he can demand the Sorting Hat change you into a different house."

"Oh." Suddenly Harry stared down at the table and allowed his stomach to do a full summersault.

"Oh what?" Ron asked.

"Oh, the hat," Harry said, looking up at his friend and feeling a little queasy.

"Harry?"

"Well I was in Dumbledore's office, and the hat started talking to me. It's a strange hat really..."

"And..." Ron was anxious for Harry to hurry the story along.

"It was talking about love and stuff and it wanted to know if I wanted to try it on, and I said yes."

"You asked it to change your house?" Ron's mouth fell open.

"NO! I just put it on. I thought it would talk to me or something. Well, I don't know. When I took it back off it didn't shout out Slytherin or anything. It just said go get to know my- well, you know, him."

"Oh Harry," Hermione said then, reaching over to touch his wrist.

"Oh Harry what?" Ron was confused, and Harry really was feeling like he was going to be sick now.

"Harry, I think it was telling you it put you in a position to get to know him... a position in Slytherin."

No, no. Harry was shaking his head. He felt like he was going to spaz out again and got up and hurried out of the Great Hall before he ended up throwing a plate at someone. Professor Sprout's pots were still fresh in his mind, even if he had missed Draco and Crabbe. In the Entrance Hall, he found out that Ron and Hermione were right behind him.

"No, no no no no no," Harry said, pacing back and forth with quick steps, turning rapidly each time. "This can't be happening to me. Why is it always me?"

"Whoa whoa," Ron said, "let's just go to Dumbledore, ask him to let you into his office. I'm sure the hat will change its mind again."

"No it won't!" He felt like he was headed for a full on panic now.

"Sure it wi-"

"No no it won't!" He shouted now, but Ron hadn't seemed to take offense. Harry knew that in the Weasley house, with so many children, voices often got raised to get a point across. "The hat said he- you know- him- that he put the hat on lots of times and asked it to change him to Gryffindor, and the hat always said no!!"

"Don't be silly, that git would never ask the hat to-"

"But he did!" Harry was gripping his hair now on both sides, feeling panicked. He didn't have anyone but Hermione and the Weasleys, and they were all in Gryffindor. What would he do if he had to fend for himself in Slytherin? They'd probably beat him to a pulp.

"Look Harry, maybe it's all just a mistake, a coincidence. Let's just go up to Gryffindor tower and see if the Fat Lady will let you in."

Harry lowered his hands and looked at Ron. He hadn't cried yet, but it felt like he'd already been crying and was just now approaching calm. "Ok," he said quietly. They looked at each other silently for the space of three full seconds before Harry ripped off up the stairs, Ron and Hermione hot on his tail. Harry had never made it to the entrance to the common room so fast before.

The portrait of the Fat Lady stared down at him. Despite the fact that his robes were still downstairs, she seemed to know something that Harry didn't want her to.

"Mr. Potter. I believe you're in the wrong place."

"No," Harry said, voice high. "I need to get in to do my homework and go to bed."

She raised her brows. "I cannot open up for you. You have a new password."

"A new password for Gryffindor?" He knew he wasn't going to like the answer but before she could tell him what he didn't want to hear, Ron had shouted the password to Gryffindor and the portrait swung open, allowing Harry to scramble through and run inside.

Up the stairs and into the second year boy's dormitory, Harry fell to his knees on the cold stone floor in front of where his things had been at the foot of his bed. The trunk was gone, the homework off the top of his desk was gone, and the ratty old bear he kept hidden under his pillow was also gone.

Ron appeared a moment later to find Harry staring at the floor on his knees, defeated.

"Oh," Ron said.

"Do you think my things are already down in the dungeons?" Harry asked. If they were, he knew they'd be destroyed by Malfoy and the other nasty Slytherins. He'd yet to meet a nice one, except maybe the new first years for the first week or so, but as they were nearing the third week of school now, he doubted that even the first years were nice anymore.

"They- well, they might be," Ron said, voice sounding cautious but also as defeated as Harry felt.

"Maybe I can just keep sleeping here," Harry thought out loud. "I don't need clothes, do I?"

"You'll get in trouble for not wearing robes, or for wearing them with the green crest," Ron said, and Harry stood up and walked out the door.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Harry reached up with one hand to tug at his hair again. "To save my stuff," Harry said. "I need my broom at least. Maybe I can sleep in an empty classroom."

"You're just going to march into Slytherin?" Ron asked, sounding incredulous as he hurried down the spiraling stairs after Harry.

"Well I can now can't I? If I'm one of them?"

"Don't say that," Ron admonished. "You'll never be one of them. You're always a Gryffindor."

Harry's heart swelled then to know that his friend had not turned on him, and as he made the portrait hole again he wondered where Hermione had got off to.

"You'll be needing the password dear," the Fat Lady said as they exited back into the hall.

"Yeah?" Harry gruffed. He was feeling in a sour mood suddenly. Irritated and angry felt better than pitying himself at any rate.

"Newt," she said simply, and Harry turned again, followed by Ron and made his way down through the castle.

In the Entrance Hall Harry was glad to find that Ron was still with him.

"I don't think they'll let you come in with me," Harry mumbled as they turned for the staircase that went to the dungeons.

"I don't think they'll let you go in," Ron said, hoping it was true.

"Well I have the password and Slytherin robes, don't I?"

Just then Hermione appeared behind them on the wide staircase and said, "Harry, here."

He turned and saw the robes he'd left under the table in the Great Hall. "I think you'd better put those on," she said. It went unsaid between the three of them that the more he looked like a Slytherin the better chance he had at survival down there.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"I'm going to go find Professor McGonagall. I thought she would still be in the Great Hall but it seems to have emptied since we left a few minutes ago. Good luck Harry."

He sighed as he listened to her hurried footsteps against the stone as she hurried back up and out of sight.

"Maybe McGonagall can fix it," Ron suggested, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his voice, but it didn't take and Harry scrunched up his nose. They were finally at the bottom of the stairs, and Harry lead off towards the corridor they thought Slytherin was in.

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Ron said. He was aware that he had been holding a very one sided conversation up to this point. "Maybe you should just come back to Gryffindor."

"I want to," Harry said. "I at least have to get my things first though."

"Well, if they destroy them you can have some of my clothes."

Harry turned with a real look of gratitude towards his friend and said sincerely, "Thanks."

As they turned a corner they saw a first year coming out of a bare patch of wall with an extra torch, and Harry's stomach sank. They were there.

"Want me to come in with you?"

"Yes."

"Ok then." Ron's voice took a turn at turning a higher pitch now, but Harry knew he wouldn't back down.

Standing with his shoulders square to the bare patch of wall, Harry said boldly, "Newt," and the wall slid open to reveal a short corridor with another door at the end. Before he changed his mind, the fate of his Nimbus and family photo album at stake, he stepped inside. He heard a soft "oompf" then and turned to see Ron still standing in the corridor.

"Damn," Ron said. "There's some kind of barrier spell. It won't let me through." To show Harry he wasn't lying he pushed with his hands towards what appeared to be open air and actually leaned against the barrier, which didn't budge. He gave Harry a sorry look.

"It's ok," Harry said. "I'll go in, get the trunk, and come back out."

"But what if you don't?"

Harry's bravery faltered then, and he said, "Then make sure McGonagall knows where I went and why."

Ron nodded and Harry disappeared through the door at the end of the corridor.

Harry didn't know what he expected to happen when he stepped into Slytherin common room, but nothing at all wasn't it. He thought people would spot him right off and call him out for being in the wrong place wearing the wrong robes, or that maybe he'd get hit with some sort of curse placed on the room to keep intruders out, but there he stood, unharmed and unnoticed in the midst of his enemy.

Students sat around in the large square common room at tables and on couches studying, playing games, and talking. Harry spotted several older students he knew by sight but not by name, but so far couldn't see Draco or any of the other second years, except for Pansy, who was doing homework with a first year girl that looked an awful lot like she could be Pansy's sister. Harry wouldn't know because he and Ron had missed the sorting on account of flying the Ford to school. The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood up then thinking about that night, the night that he'd found out about... Snape.

Steeling himself, Harry watched as several boys disappeared through a door, and hoped it was the door to the boy's common rooms instead of to the bathroom. He took several quick steps in, thinking again that he'd be spotted, but nobody paid him any attention and he felt relieved as he made the door on the other side. Inside he found another long low corridor with eight doors off of it. He was surprised to see a window at the very end, but it was dark and he couldn't see what was beyond it.

Harry looked at the doors hoping to find some sign of which one his room was in, and saw numbers. All the way at the end of the corridor on the left, he found the number two, and pushed it open to find the backs of the second year Slytherin boys. They were bent over something on the floor, taking quietly and hadn't noticed him until the door closed of its own accord behind him. Harry jumped and they turned around.

"Potter!" Draco shouted angrily. Harry tried to ignore him and looked past Draco to see that the boys had all been staring at his closed trunk at the foot of one of the beds. Good, at least they hadn't opened it, even though his name was clearly labeled on the front.

"I just came for my trunk," Harry said, looking at each pair of eyes and hoping they wouldn't give him any trouble. He supposed that was asking for too much, but as he moved forward, none of them made a move to do anything.

"And what's your trunk doing here Potter?" Draco snapped as Harry reached down for the handle.

"A mix-up," Harry said, standing and lifting the end of the trunk.

"And what's he doing in our uniform?" Teddy Knott asked, taking a step forward.

"I put it on to get inside," Harry said, dragging the trunk towards the door.

"With our password?" Crabbe asked, and Harry was now uncomfortably aware that they had indeed closed in on him, blocking his escape through the door. His eyes darted around the low rectangular room and noticed there was another dark window, but no other escape route.

"Let me past," Harry said, trying to sound angry but feeling more afraid.

Someone laughed then and grabbed his arm, but the door swung open to reveal a very angry looking Severus Snape, and the second year boys all took a big step back, leaving Harry there in the center of them looking like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Potter! Out- Now!"

Harry hastened to obey, thankful that the man had appeared just then, because he had a good feeling he knew what would have happened if he had not. He dragged his trunk out behind him into the hall, but before he could get any further with it, Snape had him by the back of his Slytherin robes and was dragging him all the way back into the common room and out into the dungeon corridor, where Ron was nowhere to be seen. He didn't stop there though, and proceeded to haul Harry down two more corridors and into his large office. The same office Harry and Ron had sat in three weeks ago during the start of term feast. Dejavu struck him as he noticed Ron sitting in one of the chairs looking guilty, and McGonagall and Dumbledore standing in a corner. Hermione was also amongst them he registered as Snape let go of him and commanded him to sit in the other empty chair.

"How you manage to even feed yourself is beyond me Potter, such idiocy!" Snape snapped as he moved behind his desk and slammed his hands down on top of it. He looked fierce. Harry glanced sideways at Ron and wasn't sure what he was looking so guilty about, he hadn't done anything. It was the hat's fault.

McGonagall stepped forward then and Harry was thankful that she didn't have a stern look on her face. "Perhaps we should let Harry explain what has happened before we pass judgment Severus." He shot her a malicious look but clamped his mouth shut.

"Harry, Miss Granger has told me some of the events, but we would like to hear from you what has happened."

He looked down at his hands which couldn't seem to keep from fidgeting, and said, "I was in Professor Dumbledore's office, because of what happened in Herbology this morning," he paused, wondering if Snape knew already what he'd done, but didn't look up and continued, "and the hat started talking to me."

"The Sorting Hat?" Professor Dumbledore asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah, that one." He sounded disgusted with it, but he was more disappointed and angry and he could feel the upset bubbling in his stomach.

"It asked if I wanted to put it on... it- it said he put it on lots of times and it never did anything. It didn't say anything about re-sorting me. I thought it was just going to talk to me some more."

"And what happened next?" McGonagall prompted after Harry took a long pause.

"Well I took it off and went about my day, and at dinner Ron noticed the crest on my robes had changed, and we tried to go to Gryffindor tower but the portrait wouldn't let me in and my things were gone. She- she gave me the password to Slytherin and told me I didn't belong in Gryffindor anymore. So Ron and I came down here to get my things so they wouldn't get destroyed, and I was going to stay in a classroom or something after that."

"And it never occurred to you to seek the help of a teacher?" Snape sounded disgusted, but Harry only looked at him in awe. Would Snape really have done anything to help if he'd gone to him, or would he just have yelled at him like he was doing now?

"I just want to go back to Gryffindor," Harry said, looking down at his hands again. He heard a sigh from one of the teachers but he wasn't sure which one.

"Unfortunately Mr. Potter, that no longer seems to be an option," Professor McGonagall said, and Harry looked up.

"You mean I have to stay in Slytherin?"

"There is only one other incidence of a re-sorting," Dumbledore said, staring at him with those sparkling blue eyes. "It happened to a first year boy in the seventeen hundreds, and he stayed in his new house for the rest of his time at school."

"That hat wouldn't put him back?" Ron asked for clarification, and Dumbledore shook his head.

"The boy did not want to be put back. He was happy with his new house."

"Great," Harry mumbled, but he jumped the next second as Snape shouted, "What was that Potter!?"

"Nothing sir," he said, face turning red.

Snape stood then and Harry was sure he was giving Harry a deep and disgusted glare, but he was determined not to look. "Up Potter." Harry stood and gave his friends a look like fate had made its decision and he was destined to follow it through, no matter how much he didn't want to, and followed Snape out of the office. He heard Hermione say, "Bye Harry," with some finality, but tried not to tell himself it was the final decision.

"Incompetent, asinine..." Snape continued to mutter obscenities all the way back to the entrance to Slytherin common room, but stopped short a few steps and glared down at Harry with such force that Harry was sure the man was willing him to die right there on the spot.

"You will NOT cause any trouble in MY house Potter. I don't want to hear ANY complaints for your foolishness. You will not come to me with any issue short of life and death and you will NOT be coddled, or you will pay, am I understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry said. The man fixed him with a look of doubt and then opened the secret wall with the password. Harry thought he was going to leave him there, but instead he followed him inside and called one of the sixth year prefects named Thomas over to them. Unlike the first time Harry had entered, all eyes were on him this time, including the second year boys who were now in the common room. Apparently they had told everyone about Harry's audacity in just marching in, and Harry was sure that's just what Draco had said.

"Inform Mr. Potter of the house rules," Snape said in a still irritated yet much calmer tone to the sixth year. "He will now be a part of our house. Be sure that he obeys every one of them."

"Yes sir," Thomas said with an uncertain look in his eyes. With that, Snape left Harry in the home of his enemies, and Harry felt put on the spot.

"Come on Potter," Thomas said, leading him back into the hall leading to the second year boy's dormitory.

"How'd you end up here?" Thomas asked as he pushed open the door and picked up Harry's trunk to carry it back inside.

"The hat," Harry said. "I got in trouble and when I was in the Headmaster's office I tried it on again."

"Never heard of that happening before," he said. He set the trunk down at the foot of the bed that now had Harry's name on it.

"Rule number 1, don't agitate the squid."

"The squid? What?"

"Don't do it Potter. Rule number two Potter, keep up because I have homework to do and I'm not going to stay with you all night explaining. For every five house points you lose, you get detention with Professor Snape. Knowing how much he dislikes you, I'd avoid it. Number three, any grade below an O or an E and you lose one house point. I wouldn't suggest doing that either because Slytherin's don't take kindly to losing house points."

Harry crossed his arms. Fine, he wouldn't lose them any points, but he sure wasn't going to gain them any either.

"Rule number four, anyone who gains at least fifty house points by Christmas, gets an extra present."

"From who?"

"Professor Snape."

Harry scrunched up his nose. Even if he did earn fifty house points, which he was determined not to, he doubted very much that Snape would give him a Christmas present, father or not.

"Don't worry about it, it doesn't happen very often," Thomas said. "It's just to encourage us to win the house cup."

"Rule five, no boys allowed in the girl's dormitory..." Harry tried to pay attention as Thomas continued on down the list, but the rest of the rules were pretty standard and about the same as Gryffindor.

"If there's an emergency or if you're sick, you can tell me. I'm in charge of the boys third year and under. Quincy Andrews is the seventh year prefect and Head Boy this year and he's in charge of the boys seventh year to fourth year. He doesn't like to be bothered but if it's an emergency and you can't find me, you can go to him. If you go to Janice or Belle, the girl prefects, they won't be able to do much since they can't come into the boy's dorms because of the barrier spell."

Thomas stood up from where he'd been sitting at one of the two desks in the room as he had explained the rules. "One more thing Potter," he said at the door, "keep your head down. Snape doesn't want you here and I doubt you'll find any friends here in Slytherin. It was a stupid thing to put the hat on, now you've got to deal with it."

He left then and Harry sat down on the edge of his new bed, alone in this foreign place. He felt in a daze. Harry stood up and opened the lid to his trunk to see that everything was still there minus his clothes and broom. He looked around and on the opposite wall from the foot of his bed was a wardrobe with his name on it. He opened it to find his broom and ratty old clothes along with his other uniform shirts and robe, which now all bore the Slytherin crest. The one exception was his Gryffindor Quidditch robes which remained untouched, but he wouldn't be getting to use those now would he, and he certainly wasn't going to play for Slytherin, even if he was allowed.

He closed the wardrobe door and trunk lid and wished that he knew some sort of protective charm to keep others out of his things. He was sure they'd trash his stuff despite that it was in the rules to leave other people's things alone. Rule number nine or something like that.

It was another ten minutes before the other boys came back into the dormitory, at which point Harry was inside his bed with his curtains closed. He listened to them whispering for a moment before he heard Draco's voice just outside of his curtain in a low, menacing tone.

"You may wear the Slytherin crest Potter, but we don't claim you as one of our own. Watch your back."

He heard them getting ready for bed and he lay awake for at least an hour afterwards, sure that they were going to try to attack him in his sleep. When he woke in the morning though, he was whole and unharmed, though he felt like throwing more of Professor Sprout's pots.

"Will you get in trouble?" Hermione asked as he sat down next to her.

"Don't know," Harry said, but he began filling up his plate with eggs and was glad there was no portrait here to protest his presence with his real house mates.

"How was it?" Ron's voice seemed.... edgy.

"I survived," his voice was flat. "But I was warned not to cause any trouble, and also to watch my back. I think Draco wants to thrash me."

"If anyone hurts you Harry you have to tell a teacher."

He laughed then. "Like who? Snape told me not to come to him and the prefect told me pretty much the same thing."

"Git," Ron muttered.

"But you can tell Professor McGonagall still," Hermione hedged.

"And make Snape more pissed off?"

"He's right Hermione," Ron said, "Harry can't go to the Gryffindor head of house for problems in Slytherin. Snape would thrash him himself if McGonagall went and complained on Harry's behalf." And the last thing I need is more thrashings, Harry thought. He was only just now healing from uncle Vernon's last punishment.

Hermione looked like she understood, but didn't agree, but chose to remain quiet anyway.

"They're glaring at you," Ron said, nodding his head towards Slytherin table across the hall, and Harry glanced briefly.

"Let them. I don't belong there."

"But you're going to be spending a lot of time with them," Hermione said.

"Not likely."

"They don't have the same schedule as us though." Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and tapped it with her wand, and said, "Harry Potter's schedule."

The Slytherin crest appeared at the top with the number two below it, and a new schedule. Harry felt sick. He was only going to have Potions, Herbology, and Defense with his friends, and the rest of the day he'd be with the Slytherins. Ron stared at the schedule too.

"I don't like it," he said.

"The hat promised I might not like the outcome of putting it on," Harry said, putting his head face down on the table.

"And you did it anyway?"

"Apparently it was foolish."

* * *

For the first time, Harry really wished he had friends in other houses. He really didn't know anyone in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, and he didn't want to sit with any of the Slytherins during classes. If he'd have been smart he would have already made friends with people like Ernie McMillan or Hannah Abbot so he could sit with them during lessons. As it was now, he sat alone in the back of the classroom through Charms (the same exact lesson he had yesterday), and later Transfiguration and History of Magic. He was even more displeased to earn two points for answering a question right in Charms, and received jeers from Draco and Crabbe.

"Keep earning us points Potter," Draco had said after class. "Your old house will disown you in no time."

Harry wanted to ignore him but feared it was true, and so did not raise his hand or correctly answer questions in any of his other classes that day, even though he knew the answers.

At lunch and dinner he sat with Ron and Hermione again, and tried to spend as much time with them as he could in the library before curfew getting help with his homework. Unfortunately curfew was 7:30 for first and second years, and he soon found himself alone and returning to the dungeons.

In the Slytherin common room, Harry found twenty or more students playing games and talking instead of doing homework since it was a Friday night. When a third year caught him staring at their exploding snap game, he glared until Harry moved, and having nowhere else to go he went to his new dormitory, where he was displeased to find Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Ah, there he is, the big man himself," Draco taunted from the desk where his homework sat half finished next to the biggest bag of candy Harry had ever seen. Harry hadn't had much candy in his life, usually only after Halloween if he managed to find a few pieces of candy dropped by trick or treaters in the Dursley's neighborhood. He also didn't have anyone to send him candy and dared not spend the little money his parents had left him on sweets either.

"Look, I think Potter wants a piece of candy," Draco said, standing up. "Well you can't have any, this is for Slytherins only." He cast a spell on the bag and the top cinched up and Draco tossed it to Goyle over Harry's head. Harry flinched. This was just like being home with Dudley and his overlarge friends only here it was more dangerous because these bullies could use magic.

Harry moved for his bed but Draco stepped in front of him to block his path. "No no, see, you misunderstand. Nothing in here is for you. It's all ours. All for Slytherins."

"It's got my name on it," Harry said flatly, and tried to push past Draco, but Draco took it as a cue to start something bigger, and shoved Harry backwards into either Crabbe or Goyle, he couldn't be sure. He tried to stand upright, but it was too late, and before he knew what was happening, Crabbe and Goyle were hitting him in the face and ribs and stomach. Only after he was down and Crabbe and Goyle had finished, did Draco come over and give Harry a good kick in the side with his heavy boots.

"Slytherin's only Potter. Remember your place." Then they left the room, leaving him bruised and battered on the floor. If he had never been beaten like this before, he wouldn't know what to do with himself, and he might have even cried, but this wasn't the first time. He lay there for long quiet moments on the cold hard floor staring at the ceiling and wondering what he'd done to deserve this as he tried to catch his breath, and eventually, he picked himself up and put himself to bed. Tomorrow was Saturday. There were no classes. Maybe he could sneak to the library when everyone was out enjoying the last of the warm weather and look up a healing spell or at least something to hide the bruises on his face and arms. He pulled the curtains closed, and missed Ron and Hermione and the safety of his own bed in his own dorm more than ever. He was completely alone here.

* * *

Harry rose earlier than the rest of the house, thinking that he'd better shower now and head to the library before breakfast. He didn't even think Hermione ventured to the library to study before the first meal of the day.

The water stung on his injured body as he bathed, and he assessed the damage to his face and chest in the mirror when he was done. Both of his eyes were black and he had a fat lip. His nose didn't feel broken but it looked a right mess being all black and blue. Even his right ear was black from where they had pounded on it repeatedly.

Putting on a long sleeve shirt and jeans to cover the evidence on his body, Harry planned on just lowering his head if he met anyone in the corridors on the way up to the library. What he hadn't counted on was meeting someone in the common room this early. It was only five o'clock after all.

"Potter, what are you doing out of bed so early?"

The voice had come from behind him, and Harry hung his head low as he'd planned at the sound of Thomas' voice.

"Going to the library to study," he said.

"You've got no books," Thomas observed, and it was true. Maybe Harry should have thought of that.

"Go on then, tell me the truth. If you're planning on doing something to lose house points, I wouldn't."

"Not going to lose any points." He still hadn't turned around, which had seemed to confirm in the Prefect's mind that Harry was up to no good.

"Look me in the eye and say that."

Harry turned around and looked up.

"Bloody hell, got you good didn't they. When did this happen?"

"Last night after curfew."

"Anything broken?"

"No."

He stood up and came around to look at Harry's face better. "If you go to the Hospital Wing there will be questions and you'll lose the house points for fighting."

"I didn't fight though."

"Doesn't matter. By telling, the house loses points."

"Are you forbidding me to go?"

He looked at Harry carefully. "No. Just reminding you that you'll cause more trouble than it's worth. Come on, there's some bruise balm in the supply closet." He walked over to a door by the dark window and opened it to reveal shelves and shelves of potions, each labeled and sorted according to purpose.

"These are all for Slytherin?" Harry asked in awe, coming up behind Thomas. Gryffindor didn't have anything like this. There were draughts for stomach aches, headaches and colds, bruise balm, hair gels, tooth paste and extra tooth brushes, hair brushes, shampoo and conditioners, stacks of soap, and even some... well, female items Harry supposed since there was a sign on the bottom shelf that said, ‘Boy's touch and die.'

"Doesn't Gryffindor have a supply closet?"

"No." He shook his head. "They give us shampoo and conditioner and toothpaste, but that's it."

He eyed the new toothbrushes. They came in a variety of colors, even red. He hadn't had a new toothbrush since he was a kid and had been given one at school when the dentist came to teach them about brushing teeth. He still had it, but its bristles hurt against his gums when he used it because they were all out of place.

Thomas pulled down a container of bruise balm and watched as Harry reached up for a toothbrush and some toothpaste. He supposed he was giving the toothbrush a funny look or something because when he looked back up at Thomas, the boy seemed to be trying to figure something out.

Harry remained silent though he turned a little red. It was hard to see under the bruises.

"Go to the bathroom and put this on. The bruises should be gone by Monday. I'd stay out of sight until then."

"What about food?"

"All you have to do is go lay in bed and say, ‘I'm sick' and something will appear on your night stand. Seriously, they don't do that for Gryffindor?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, nobody ever said anything about it."

"Go on, before everybody else wakes up."

Harry walked gingerly to the door leading to the dorms, but turned back with a little smile that hurt to make. "Thanks," he said, and hurried to the bathroom. He was back in bed by the time the other boys got up, and though he listened, none of them talked about him or tried to curse him through the curtains. When he was sure they'd all gone up to breakfast, he whispered, "I'm sick," and opened the curtains to find a bowl of warm soup, a piece of bread, and a glass of water.

As he ate, he thought his face felt a little better since applying the bruise balm, and after breakfast he hurried into the bathroom across the hall to have a look in the mirror, and was pleased to see that while still dark, the bruises were starting to fade.

He was sure Ron and Hermione were worrying about him and didn't want them to go to McGonagall, so he scribbled a note telling them that he was ok but couldn't leave the dungeons. His plan was to go to one of the windows to call Hedwig. Somehow she could always hear him from the Owlery and would always come to him no matter where he was out on the grounds. When he left the room again however, he was surprised to see that it was finally light enough to see out the window at the end of the hall... where he expected to see some sort of grass or something (he figured the dungeons must butt up to a cliff where they could see out), he found himself staring at water.

His mouth hung open. They were under water? As something swished past the window, startling him, Harry remembered rule number one: don't agitate the squid. Now it made sense at least, though why he would want to agitate the squid, or why it was a rule, he didn't know.

Well, that ruined that plan. He'd have to leave the Dungeons to deliver the letter and if he had to leave he might as well just go and find them.

The door at the end of the hall opened then and Thomas stuck his head in. "Did you eat?"

Harry nodded. "My friends are going to come looking or tell McGonagall though, and I can't get a letter to them without my owl and a window."

"Here." He came down the hall and held out his hand. "I'll give it to an owl."

"Why are you doing this?"

"We're twenty points ahead of Gryffindor. I'm not about to lose points just because some little snots decided to beat up their new dorm mate."

Harry hesitated, but then handed him the note. "Ok, thanks."

"And I told you to keep your head down. Maybe you'll listen next time," Thomas said as he left with the note.

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, feeling irritated. It wasn't his fault, none of it was. It was all the hat, and Draco, and his father for being with his mother in the first place if he was determined to hate any child they had together.

Harry spent the rest of the day on his bed studying and doing his homework. He heard his dorm mates come in and out a few times but none of them called for him to see if he was ok. No, they wouldn't though he thought. He hated that it was Saturday and he couldn't be with his friends. Maybe if he put more of the bruise balm on he'd look good enough to go out tomorrow, and set to work slathering it on his body as thick as he could.

* * *

The weekend passed uneventfully and by Sunday night, Harry was thoroughly tired of eating soup, bread, and water. He looked in a mirror after everyone had gone to bed and was pleased to see that the bruises on his face were almost gone aside from a little discoloration around his right eye. He still ached, but at least he looked near enough to normal again.

On Monday morning, Harry emerged from the Slytherin common room and found Ron waiting for him in the corridor leading to Slytherin.

"There you are!"

He hurried over. "Hermione's been having a fit over you."

"Sorry," Harry said.

"The note you left made no sense."

"They said they'd ruin everything I own. I had to stay and guard it. I don't want them to thrash my broom."

"We'll look up some locking spells for your wardrobe."

"I wish that would work. I share the wardrobe with Theodore Knott."

"Great," Ron muttered. "We can lock your trunk."

"Yeah," Harry said, hoping that they wouldn't attack him again when Friday rolled around, because then he wouldn't have an excuse to give to Ron and Hermione.

"At least I got all my homework done," Harry said.

"Better stop or else you'll earn house points for them."

"We don't earn house points for getting good grades like in Gryffindor, we just lose points if we get bad grades."

"Great!" Ron said with a laugh. "You can sabotage them from inside! Just get bad grades."

"I wish. For every five house points I lose I have to do detention with Snape."

"Ugh."

Harry practically shoveled his breakfast into his mouth when they got to the Great Hall and went back for seconds.

"You hungry or what?"

"If you stay in bed and say ‘I'm sick' the house elves send up food, but only a roll, broth, and water. It's not much."

"And you ate that all weekend Harry?" Hermione asked him, and he nodded.

"You should start taking fruit and stuff from the table and keeping it in your trunk."

"They'd poison it," Harry said, and Ron laughed but he wasn't joking. He would have to find some way to keep food with him and keep it safe.

After breakfast Harry had to split up with his friends to go to classes with the Slytherins, and spent most of the day pulling spit wads out of the back of his hair, because Draco had been choosing to sit directly behind him in every class. He sat with them again at lunch and during the classes that Slytherin shared with Gryffindor. When he got to sit next to Ron and Hermione in class was the only time he felt somewhat comfortable during the day, but even that was starting to fade. The other Gryffindor second years didn't seem to be so certain of his loyalty anymore, especially when Harry forgot what house he was in and answered a question in class right in front of his friends, and earned points for Slytherin. This always made Draco smirk or make snide remarks.

"You've got to stop that Harry," Ron said in a low, conspiratorial voice on their way to dinner. "Slytherin will win the cup."

"But Harry's a Slytherin now," Hermione reminded him.

"No I'm not," Harry said at the same time as Ron said, "No he's not." They both gave Harry a playful shove.

"No, you're not," Hermione agreed, "but you're there." Harry got the feeling that although she'd been supportive of the change, she was actually hiding that she was upset.

They were quiet as they walked down the hall and turned to go down a set of stairs.

"You're not playing Quidditch for them," Ron said. It wasn't a request.

"No," Harry said. He was sad that his Quidditch career seemed to be over though. He loved flying. Maybe he could take his broom out on the weekend.

"Do you think Fred or George would let you borrow their brooms?" Harry asked Ron then.

"Probably not, why?"

"I miss flying already. I thought we could go together on the weekend."

"I'll ask and if they say no, I'll sneak a broom out."

* * *

Flying on the weekend it turned out, was not meant to be. Harry received a note from Ron delivered by Thomas Friday night saying that the twins had boobytrapped their brooms and he would be spending the weekend in the Hospital Wing having boils and other curses removed. Even if Ron could have gone flying, Harry could not. When Harry got out of bed to go to the bathroom near midnight, he came back to find Crabbe, Goyle, Draco, and Blaise waiting for him in the dorm room. Just like the week before, Draco watched laughin (this time along with Blaise) as Crabbe and Goyle did the dirty work, and only after Harry was covered in bruises did they take their chance to kick him while he was down. They left Harry on the cold floor and went back to bed. Harry didn't wait for morning to go for bruise balm this time. He went to the supply cabinet in the common room and tried to ignore the stares he was getting from the older students that were still awake and studying. Thomas was not one of them but the Head Boy was. He kept his head down, grabbed the bruise balm and went into the bathroom to put it on.

He winced as he spread it thickly on his face and then took of his shirt and began smearing it on the bruises there. He was almost done when the door behind him opened and Quincy Andrews, the Head Boy walked in. Harry looked at him through the reflection in the mirror and then averted his eyes and went back to the bruise balm.

"You going to tell?" Quincy asked.

"Didn't tell last weekend," he said quietly, hoping that Quincy wouldn't come after him too. Quincy kept watching him.

"Why not?"

"Not supposed to cause trouble."

"And getting beat up causes trouble?"

Harry wasn't going to answer but decided to anyway. "Not supposed to lose house points, not supposed to cause trouble, not supposed to complain to Snape."

"I heard he's your father."

"Yeah I heard that too," Harry said.

"What'd you do to him to make him so pissed off?"

Harry turned around to stare at him, open jar of bruise balm still in one hand. "Be alive."

"I got an old man like that too. The only thing I was able to do to get him to be proud was become Head Boy so that's what I did." He turned to walk out of the bathroom, looking tired like he might be headed to bed, but turned back, hand on the door and said, "You should do something to stop them. Show them you won't take it." And then he was gone.

Yeah, right, Harry thought to himself. Fighting back, giving Draco a black eye, that was all he needed. They would all tell Snape that Harry had started it and they were only defending themselves and Harry would get detention. Stupid hat. He hardly saw how this 'arrangement' was supposed to help him get to know his father better. The only thing he wanted to do was stay out of trouble so he didn't have to encounter the man at all under any circumstances aside from in classes.

Harry woke early to put the bruise balm on again, and applied it throughout the day on Saturday. On Sunday morning he was pleased to see that his efforts had paid off, and while his body was still covered in bruises, his face was clear. He headed to breakfast and found Hermione.

"There you are."

"Here I am. Is Ron still in the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes. Ginny sent an owl to Mrs. Weasley and yesterday the twins received a double howler in the common room for cursing their brother."

Harry laughed a little as he piled food high onto his plate.

"How have you been Harry?"

He shrugged and Hermione could tell that he was feeling down.

"I don't have a broom to go flying with you, but we can study or go for a walk if you want."

"I guess we could study," Harry agreed. When they were finished eating, Harry followed Hermione to the library. She already had her books with her and Harry had no desire to go back to the Slytherin dorms and chancing another encounter with the second year boys. They studied until lunch and then went to see Ron in the Hospital Wing.

"Why didn't you come to see me Harry?" Ron asked, seeming put out.

"I couldn't," Harry said.

"I thought I was more important than your stuff. I'm your best mate."

Harry didn't have any way of telling Ron about the bruises with Hermione right there. "Hermione, do you have notes from Charms? I didn't get any on Friday."

"You didn't take notes!? There's a big test Monday Harry!" She hurried off to get her notes from the tower, looking worried, and Harry turned back to Ron. He gave a quick look to be certain that Madam Pomfrey wasn't around and then lifted up the front of his shirt.

"Bloody hell Harry. How come you're not in here?"

"They got me Friday night. I spent all day Saturday putting bruise balm on my face so I could come out. I would have visited you otherwise."

"They did this last weekend too, didn't they? That's why you didn't come to see us."

Harry nodded.

"Slimy gits, the lot of them."

"One of the fourth year Prefects isn't so bad," Harry said, but Ron gave him a dirty look.

"The lot of them Harry, mark my words. Just look at ol' Snape. Do you think they'll get you again next weekend?"

"I don't know. The Head Boy said I should do something about it, but if I do you know Malfoy will twist it in his favor and I'll end up being the one in trouble."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Maybe we can curse him..."

"Curse him? Got any good ones in mind?" Harry laughed thinking of the possibilites but knowing he'd never be able to carry any of their plans out. He and Ron talked for another few minutes before Hermoine burst back into the Hospital Wing and made Harry and Ron partake in a study session for Charms right there. In the end that study session was in Harry's favor because he got an O on the test the next morning.

As it turned out, Harry didn't have to wait until Friday to get attacked again. Crabbe and Goyle were taking every opportunity to elbow him hard in the ribs when no one was looking, shove him hard into walls, and punch him anywhere but his face. Harry was very sore by Friday and thought that one of his ribs might have been cracked. He wasn't feeling well either. He'd been putting on bruise balm by the container several times a day and for the first time was wondering if there might be side effects from using too much of it. He was in the hallway with all of the boys dorms thinking that he would just go to bed early when someone punched him hard from behind in the ribs. He felt something snap and felt a sharp pain. It was so bad he couldn't get a breath. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest and heard Goyle snigger.

"Doesn't take much does it Gryffindor?" he asked. Harry labored to get in a breath but wasn't getting anything in. He turned, panick on his face as he clutched his chest, and saw the look reflected on Goyle's face.

"What?" Goyle asked, but Harry couldn't speak because he couldn't breath. Goyle turned and hurried out of the hallway. Harry crawled, the gravity of his situation finally reaching him. He was going to die there if he couldn't get to Thomas or the Head Boy or hopefully any other Slytherin who might have an ounce of compassion to fetch help for him.

When he got to the door to the common room he reached up, fumbled the door handle twice, and finally turned it. Leaning on the door he fell into the common room, drawing the attention of the others who were there playing games and visiting like they did every Friday night.

Someone said, "Fetch Professor Snape," but Harry didn't recognize the voice. People crowded around him but no one moved to help. His vision blurred and finally turned dark. It was strange to lay there, unseeing, but still hearing muffled voices as he did. It was like he had gone blind and almost deaf, but not quite. He could have laid there for hours, but wasn't certain. Suddenly his lungs filled with air and he gasped, breathing hard. He tried to open his eyes but they felt heavy.

"Come on." It was Snape's voice. That was strange. What was he doing there? He wouldn't come to help Harry. He opened his eyes to verify that the man was indeed kneeling there, looking both angry and perhaps slightly worried. His features hardened when Harry opened his eyes though. Slytherins were still crowded around them in a circle, looking down at him. Goyle was there too, looking anxious like he was going to be in trouble.

Harry coughed blinked hard several times. He didn't want to be there in the midst of them, but felt too weak to move away from any of them.

"Everyone move," Snape said and they backed away, clearing a path to the common room entrance. Harry didn't know what was happening but he was suddenly up in the air. They were out in the corridor before he realized that someone was carrying him and that it was Snape. Too weak to lift his head, he let it loll to the side. He was in trouble, he knew it in his bones. Snape would make him pay for making him come to his aide. He would make him pay for making him carry him up through the castle to the Hospital Wing.

He must have lost time, perhaps passed out because one moment they were ascending the stairs out of the dungeons and the next Harry was being deposited into a bed in the Hospital Wing.

"What's happened Severus?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"He had a punctured lung. I do not know what happened. They said he came out of the dorm hall like that."

With a wave of her wand, Harry's shirt was gone and his face was red from embarrassment.

"Harry!" she exlaimed in shock. He didn't look at her face or down at his torso. He knew what it looked like.

"It looks like he's been trying to heal the bruises with bruise balm," she said.

"There are jars of it in the common room stores for minor bruises. From the color of his skin he's used too much of it."

"Harry."

He finally looked over at Madam Pomfrey's prodding.

"How much bruise balm did you use?"

"Today?" he asked weakly. She raised her brows.

"At all Potter. This week. Last week. Since you've been in Slytherin." Snape's voice was impatient and Harry could sense the anger there. He turned away.

"Maybe seven jars."

Madam Pomfrey hurried away and Harry tried not to look at Snape. He hated this. He got hurt and his father was nothing but angry at him. What had he done wrong?

Pomfrey came back with a blue potion and helped to lift Harry's head so he could drink it.

"I'll heal your bruises with a spell. You can't have any more bruise balm for at least a week because there's already too much in your system. Too much will make you sick Harry, weak, dizzy. You had to have felt the effects already?" He nodded and she tsked.

"These bruises are at least two weeks old. What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing," Harry said.

"It certainly doesn't look like nothing. It looks like you've been beaten several times."

"No."

"The truth Potter," Snape snapped. "One point from Slytherin for lying."

He chanced a look up at his father and managed a weak glare. Bastard. He wasn't allowed to tell the truth was he? If he did, he'd lose points because the others would be in trouble, and it wasn't life for death either so he'd be breaking another one of Snape's ridiculous rules. He turned away.

"Now is not the time to clam up Harry," Pomfrey admonished him.

"Nothing happened."

She huffed and walked away, probably to get another potion.

Snape leaned in so that only Harry could hear him. It made Harry uncomfortable and made the hairs on his arm and back stand on end.

"I do not tolerate lying Potter," he said in one of his more deadly tones.

Angrily Harry turned his head to stare into his dark eyes. "Yes you do. You told me to lie. You told me not to lose any house points. You told me not to cause trouble. You told me not to complain to you unless it was life or death. If I tell you the truth, I do all three of those things."

Snape stood up though the anger didn't leave his face. "Insolent brat."

"Yeah, that's me," Harry said. Insolent, foolish, asinine brat. Those were Snape's favorite names for him.

Madam Pomfrey came back again. "I've sent a message to Minerva. She'll be up here any moment." Harry was still looking at his father and saw him roll his eyes. The man turned away to wait for Minerva's arrival.

Moments later the door to the ward opened and Professor McGonagall strode in with purpose. Pomfrey told her about the overdose of bruise balm, the punctured lung, the bruises (which she could clearly see for herself since Harry was still laying there on top of the blankets shirtless), and Harry's refusal to tell them what had happened.

She gave him a stern (though still somehow kind look) and said, "Mr. Potter, it is clear to me that you have been treated poorly. I would like to know by who. If you don't tell me I will ask your friends. Miss Granger has already expressed her concern to me that you may not be receiving the best... care, in Slytherin." Snape rolled his eyes again and Harry knew he was going to take this out on Harry at some point. She had practically implied that Snape was neglecting him.

"It is also clear to me that if you would have simply come to the Hospital Wing in the first place, you would not have used too much of the bruise balm."

Still feeling fuzzy, and now starting to feel dizzy as well, Harry blinked hard several times. They weren't going to let this drop. They were going to keep him there, awake, until he told them something.

"I fell," he lied.

"Several times a day, for the last few days?" Pomfrey inquired in disbelief. Harry nodded though the diziness made him wish he hadn't.

"Maybe that's enough for now," Minerva said. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw her put a hand on Pomfrey's wrist. He didn't know that his bottom lip was trembling or that they'd seen it. He hadn't seen Snape roll his eyes again either at the sight of it.

McGonagall and Snape left, and Madam Pomfrey finished healing him before letting him roll over and go to sleep. This wasn't fair, none of it, Harry thought as he drifted off. The hat had put him in an impossible situation and so had Snape. Harry wished he hadn't carried him up through the castle like that. It was much easier to hate a man that was always strict and mean and unfair to him. It was much harder to hate him when he knew he was capable of being gentle. Harry remembered how warm he felt, and comfortable, even through his anxiety of being in trouble, as Snape had carried him up through the castle to the Hospital Wing. If he hated the man, it didn't hurt as much to know he hated him back. But inside Harry was confused and knew he didn't hate him all that much. In his dreams his father held him tight and told him he wasn't so bad to have as a son. Harry was miserable when he woke up in the morning.

He'd known this would happen. That was one of the reasons he hadn't told. Now he was serving detention scrubbing floors under Snape's malicious stare. He was certain the man would burn lazer holes in his back if he could. It made Harry anxious as he scrubbed every square inch of the larger dungeon classroom floor. Even Aunt Petunia would have been proud of how that floor shined. Snape of course, wasn't. He didn't say a word to Harry when he entered and pointed to the cleaning supplies, and he didn't say a word when he finished. He only glared, lips set in a thin, unhappy line. Just imagine if he had been raised by this man. He didn't know much about him, but he did know how he acted towards him. Harry might have turned out that way too. He didn't want to think about that as he made his way out of detention and back to the Slytherin dorm room.

The notion that he could have been raised by his father nagged at him though. Surely his potential upbringing might not have been so bad? He might have gotten birthday gifts. Maybe he might have turned out spoiled rotten like Draco Malfoy and would have had hordes of gold coins and wizarding candy. At present Harry knew Draco had one of the largest Chocolate Frog card collections in school, and had bags and bags of Every Flavor Beans separated out by flavor at the bottom of his trunk. He had Crabbe and Goyle sort them and as payment he gave them the flavors he didn't like.

Being spoiled might not be so bad. He didn't care much for having tons of candy, but having clothes that fit him would be nice, and a pair of shoes without holes in the sides where rocks always got in. Maybe he would even have had a poster to decorate his room. And he would have been in Slytherin if he'd been raised by Snape. The hat had wanted to put him there in the first place, and even now, not having been raised by the man, here he was under his control. He tried to snap out of it as he opened the door to the second year dorm. Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Teddy, and Blaise were all there, each on their own beds staring at him.

Harry made eye contact with Goyle and then Draco and then went to his bed, sat down. He didn't close the curtains. He was tired of hiding from them. Hiding had done no good at all. Now that people knew who at least one of his assailants was, and he'd already gotten in trouble for starting fights he hadn't really started, he might as well do as Qunicy had said and do something about it, make a stand. Draco and Goyle were still looking at him as he pulled his Potion's text from his night stand and started to read.

Harry didn't know why he expected someone to say something. They made it a point not to talk to him unless they were insulting him or telling him he didn't belong. He did expect something though. Some acknowledgment that he hadn't ratted them out, that he had saved their precious Slytherin house points. He waited for a full thirty seconds before focusing his eyes on the page and reading a few sentences of the text. He couldn't concentrate though. He kept remembering his father carrying him up the stairs and the look of worry that had flashed across his face after Harry had opened his eyes when he was still lying on the floor in the common room. If he blocked out everything else, he could almost pretend that his father... cared.

He read another sentence, several times, and stopped again. He didn't want him to pretend. What was it Quincy had said? His father was like that too? And the only way he got him to take notice was to do something grand like being Head Boy. Harry couldn't be Head boy as a second year, or even a Prefect. Getting good grades wouldn't matter either, because Snape didn't care about that unless he was getting bad grades and losing points. Wait, what was he thinking about? It didn't matter what he did, he was Harry James Potter, and the man would never care for him. It was nice to pretend though, to live in a fantasy if even only for a moment.

"You didn't tell."

Harry let his eyes wander up from his book to Draco. Draco was clearly the leader here, at least to the other Slytherins seated around the room, Harry not included.

"No."

He went back to his book and worked industriously hard to pretend like he was trying to study and had been bothered by the inquiry. Draco and the others didn't bother him again that night and he hoped he wouldn't get beat again or else he'd have to plan to do something about it. He didn't want another detention.

Despite pretending to make headway on his Potion's studying, and turning pages every few minutes, Harry hadn't really taken anything in in the hour he had the book open staring at it. His father and Quincy's words kept invading his mind. What could he do... just to entertain the thought that he could somehow win his father's affection and live in that fantasy life where he was spoiled with enough food and clothes that fit well, and a father that praised him and hugged him instead of berated him and looked on him with disdain? What could he possibly do to earn that? He was used to earning his keep at the Dursleys. He supposed that if all he'd done at the Dursleys could not earn their affection for him because they hated him, that he could do nothing to earn his father's affection either, but still, he could make believe couldn't he?

From the desk where Draco sat eating candy with Blaise, Harry heard them whisper about the house cup and beating out the other houses and Harry paused his thoughts to listen briefly. Thomas said if he earned 50 points by Christmas that Snape would buy him a gift. Harry wondered if it was a standard gift for anyone that earned it, or if it was special for each person. He imagined his father buying him flying goggles or a giant chocolate bar or something else for pure entertainment and then had to work not to laugh out loud. Maybe he would give him a pair of his old dirty socks. That's what the Dursley's had sent him last year. But still, if he earned it, whatever his father would give him, he would have to put thought into, whether it be for the good or the bad. It would put Harry on his mind in some way, wouldn't it?

Ron would have a fit if Harry started earning points though. Maybe he could scheme with him, give Ron answers ahead of time for classes so he could earn the same ammount of points and keep them even. He'd never earn 50 points just by answering questions in class though. Thomas did say that when someone did earn that many points, it was rare. He'd have to think outside the box.

* * *

"Hermione, could I ask you something?"

Hermione turned in the corridor where she'd been waiting outside a professor's office.

"Hi Harry! Sure."

"Theoretically, if someone wanted to earn a lot of house points what would they do?"

"Well, you always earn a lot when you play Quidditch. And when you answer questions in class you sometimes earn points. I earn a few per day."

"More than just answering questions though, what could someone do?"

She gave him a strange look that he couldn't decipher. "You would have to go above and beyond I guess. Like when we beat the troll. But Harry, you aren't going to go after any trolls are you?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't even know where to find them if they weren't in the girls loo." He gave her a grin but the smile she returned seemed forced.

"But- you're in Slytherin. You're not going to earn points there are you?" She was worried, he could tell. After living with the Dursleys for so many years, Harry had a knack for picking up on what other people were feeling. It could be dangerous if he didn't have that ability.

"I thought you were ok with me being there."

"I am, I just-"

"What?"

"Nothing, it's nothing Harry." She gave him another forced smile.

"It was just hypothetical anyway," he said, feeling strained in his lie to her. The door to the office opened then and the astronomy professor came out so Harry left Hermione to speak to her.

If he was going to do this, hypothetically, he had to come up with a plan. There were seven weeks until Christmas holiday. That was 35 school days, and if he managed to earn 1 point per day answering questions that would be 35 points. He'd already earned about five for Slytherin so that would take him to 40. Earning points by answering questions wasn't a given though. The teachers generally tried to keep things even between the houses and so tended not to give points to students from the same house in the same class if they'd already handed out one or two. Teddy was smart, almost the second year Slytherin equivalent of Hermione, and he usually earned the points for second years in Slytherin. Occasionally Draco got one or two and sometimes Pansy or Blaise. Harry would have to step up his game to get in the lead there. No, points wouldn't be enough, he'd have to do something else.

Ron would considder him playing Quidditch a complete betrayal, so that was out too. What could he do? Not certain, Harry decided to do his best studying and trying to answer questions to see how that worked out, and headed back to his room to study.

As the days wore on, Harry grew more bold and ventured out of the dorm more and into the common room. No one had any interest in sitting with him, so he took his books and sat in a corner by the window into the lake to study. Sometimes people stared (even he felt like he was still intruding), but they left him alone. By Monday he was ready to put his plan into action. It started in Potions.

Snape had only lectured for two minutes when he asked the first question. "What are the five classes of healing potion?"

Harry's hand shot into the air next to Hermione's, and he gained a dirty look from Ron and a questioning one from Hermione. Teddy's hand was also in the air across the aisle though so Snape ignored him and called on Teddy. He earned a point for his correct answer. A few minutes later Snape asked another question and Harry raised his hand again. Again he was ignored, this time in favor of Hermione, who answered the question right and got no points. Three more times he raised his hand and three more times was ignored. By the end of class Teddy had earned three points. Teddy three, Harry zero.

"What are you doing Harry?" Ron asked as they left the room.

"Trying to get a good grade," Harry said.

"But you're going to earn them points."

"Maybe you can answer questions and get points too," Harry tried, but Ron scoffed.

"Right, since when do I earn points?"

"Study Ron," Hermione said.

"Maybe McGonagall will be so shocked to see your hand," Harry said, "that she'll award you a bunch in one go."

Ron laughed again. "We'll see."

Later Hermione recounted to Harry how Ron had raised his hand and answered a question wrong in Transfiguration only to turn beet red in embarrassment and proclaim that he wouldn't be answering any more questions. Harry's heart sank. If Ron couldn't keep up, he'd be handing the cup to Slytherin if he ever managed to make that fifty points.

"Are you going to stop trying to get points?" Ron asked him at dinner. Harry fidgeted and didn't answer.

"Harry?"

He looked over. "I just want to do well in classes."

"It's never been a priority before, but now suddenly you're in Slytherin and it is?"

Hermione nudged Ron but he didn't seem to notice.

"I just want to- you know. Get his attention."

"Whose?"

"You know. Him." Harry gave half a nod sideways towards the head table but Ron only frowned.

"Since when? He hates you. Winning Slytheirn the cup won't do anything."

"I'm not trying to win them the cup."

"I know what you asked Hermione Harry. I know you asked her how to earn loads of points. The only reason you'd ask that is to win the cup."

"Or maybe I want something from Snape," Harry whispered, hoping Ron would keep his voice down.

"Right, because some git who has never given one whit about you, is way more important than your own house. Unless you're throwing your lot in with them now."

Harry frowned and didn't answer. He swallowed hard. He wasn't a Slytherin. He was still a Gryffindor.

Hermione stared into her plate and Harry noted that his fellow Gryffindor second years were listening intently, even if they weren't looking at them.

"Come on Harry, you're one of us."

"I have to."

Ron slammed his fork down on the wooden table. "You earn more points for them and you can start sitting over there too. I'm not going to be friends with someone who's against me."

"I'm not against you," Harry pleaded. "You're my best mate."

He picked his fork back up. "No more points Harry, I mean it. I get you not losing points because you don't want detention, but that doesn't mean you have to earn them for them. They're a different team."

Harry didn't feel like eating any more and sat there quietly. Ron and Hermione were quiet for the rest of the meal too.

* * *

Harry was upset. He couldn't believe Ron was calling him a Slytherin after all they'd been through. Harry couldn't imagine himself flying a car to school with Draco, going after Quirril with Pansy, or doing any of the things he'd done with his friends with any of the Slytherins. Ron and Hermoine were the first, and only friends he had. He would be lost without them. He thought about the warmth of his father's arms though, and felt lost without that knowing it was there for him to have, but that he couldn't have it. Ron didn't understand, he had parents who loved him. He had parents to go home to.

"Harry?"

He turned and found Hermione behind him. He was in the library studying. He'd earned two poitns that day answering questions in class and was glad they had been in classes his friends weren't in with him.

"Hi Hermione."

"Can I sit here?"

"Of course."

She sat down but looked nervous like she had something unpleasant to say. Harry waited.

"You would really help them win the cup after what they did to you? I heard Madam Pomfrey talking to Professor Dumbledore about your stay in the Hospital Wing over the weekend."

"It's not for them Hermione," Harry said, feeling tired and a little exasperated.

"So- it's true then, what Ron said. It's for you?"

He hung his head a little. She made it sound so shameful to do anything for himself. All he'd ever done was for other people. He'd worked hard for the Dursleys, worked to keep Dumbledore's stone safe from Quirril, stuck up for Ron and Hermione countless times in the halls...

"You make it sound so wrong."

"Isn't it though?"

"Ron got to you, didn't he? You're here to tell me you won't be my friend if I try to get my father's attention. I don't get it Hermione. You have friends in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You don't get mad at them for earning house points for their houses."

"They're not Gryffindors Harry," she said then. Her voice wavered and he wondered if she'd cry.

Anger bubbled in him. It wasn't fair to give him this ultamatum. "Yeah, well maybe I never was. The hat tried to put me in Slytherin in first year, but I told it not to." Her eyes teared up then and he felt even angrier.

"Do what you want Hermione. Do what you have to. You know this isn't fair, you know I didn't ask for this or anything else. It's not fair for me to be stuck there and not be able to participate in anything ever again." And then he walked away. He could hear her crying behind him.

He felt sick to his stomach and angry at the same time as he descended down through the castle. If they felt that way about him then they weren't his real friends. Real friends didn't give you ultamatums and tell you to not do what was in your best interest. Harry faltered then as he made the entrance to the Dungeons and bumped into Snape who glared down at him and then moved past. It was in his best interest to do this, wasn't it? Having Snape for a father would be better than no father at all, right? Harry wasn't so sure anymore. The man was strict, wouldn't he be a strict parent too? But he remembered being carried again and imagined agian that he hadn't been carried, but hugged instead. No, he had to do this. Maybe Ron and Hermione would cool down about it after a few days.

* * *

Harry knew he was wrong about Ron and Hermione the very next day. They had Potions together again and Harry raised his hand to every question even though he was never called on. Ron glared at him each time he did so and Hermione looked sad. They also had Herbology that morning and Harry earned three points when he mentioned a potion the plant they were harvesting was used in as an ingredient. They split after Herbology for Ron and Hermione to go to Charms while Harry went to Transfiguration, but when they came back together for lunch, it was clear that Harry wasn't welcome to sit with them. Ron and Hermione wedged themselves in between other students and there was no room for Harry. Harry went down to their usual spot and none of the other students talked to him. It was the same at dinner. Harry was sad and thought about sitting at the Slytherin table, where he saw the second year Slytherins laughing and joking with each other, but knew that wasn't his place either. I'll give it another day, he thought. Maybe they'll come around tomorrow.

They didn't though. There was no room for him to sit with them and in Defense Harry was left no choice but to sit on the Slytherin side. By being quiet, by making no room for him at Gryffindor table and on the Gryffindor side in classes, they were telling him they no longer recognized him as Gryffindor. His heart broke. Was it too late to take it all back? Could he still get his friends back? But the thought of his father stopped him. He was stuck in the middle. Permanently lose his good friends, who maybe weren't so good afterall, or potentially gain a father, who might not be so good either. What should he do?

The professor asked a question and Harry's hand went up into the air, though he didn't look up form his desk.

"Yes Mr. Potter."

"Vampire. The answer is vampire."

"Well done Mr. Potter. One point to Slytherin." His decision was made. He looked up and across the aisle at his friends. They were all looking at him. Hermione had tears in her eyes again, and Ron's mouth was hanging open. This had the potential to turn out very bad, but he had no choice but to see it through now, whatever the consequences would be.

Eyes followed him as he crossed to the far end of the hall and sat at the end of Slytherin table nearest the head table. The Slytherins looked at him but no one said anything, and after a few moments they resumed their meal and seemed content to ignore him. Harry felt strange sitting there. He'd never sat at Slytherin before, not even during study hall. He stared at the empty plate in front of him for a long time before his stomach grumbled reminding him that he was there for a reason. He carefully picked up the spoon in the egg bowl, as if he might damage it somehow and draw the wrath of his... housemates, and put eggs onto his plate.

"It's about time Gryffindor," came a voice next to his ear as someone sat down beside him. It was Thomas.

"What?"

"It took you long enough to man up and come over here to sit with us. Everyone thought you thought you were better than us."

"I don't have any friends here."

"Whose fault is that? You haven't made an effort to make any, am I right?"

Harry looked down at his eggs.

"Don't do that. Don't look ashamed to be here. You're in Slytherin. That's just as good as any other house and we think it happens to be better. You're setting a bad example for the first years and Snape will have your hide if he catches you looking sorry for yourself."

"Oh."

"Now, you're not sitting at Gryffindor. Does that mean you've accepted being here?"

"I guess." He shrugged and couldn't keep the meloncholly out of his voice.

"I guess. What kind of an answer is that. Be a man Potter. Yes or no."

"Yes."

"Good. Because you play Quidditch and we need someone to replace McMillan. I know it's not Seeker, Draco's got that already, but we need someone and you're able on a broom."

Harry stared at him. Thomas was the team Captain this year for Slytherin. Was he really offering for him to play?

"You- you want me to play Chaser?"

"If you're shite at it I'll kick you back off the team, but I've seen some of those daredevil stunts you pull up in the air. You can have McMillan's broom too. It's a model higher than yours."

Harry waved his hand. "No, I- I can't take somebody's broom."

"It's not his, it belongs to Slytherin. Draco's father bought them for the team, not individuals. I don't know how things work in Gryffindor, but in Slytherin we share. I'll make sure the broom gets to your dorm tonight along with Quidditch robes. You'd better show up for practices on time too or I'll have your hide. There's another rule that only applies to Quidditch players. No detentions within two weeks of a game or you don't get to play. Our next game is in one week with Gryffindor so you'd better stay out of trouble. Be on the field at eight am tomorrow and 6 pm every night until game day."

He got up and left to go back to sit with his friends further down the table. Harry was stunned. It had all happend so fast. Three days ago, he was still sitting with his friends at Gryffindor table laughing and talking, and today he was at Slytherin, and was no going to play for Slytherin team. There was an upside to this. The winning team was always awarded ten points to each team member who played. His time was running out and if he could help secure a win, it would be an easy ten points to add to the fifteen he already had. It would get him halfway to his goal.

He turned around to see if he could see Ron or Hermione, but caught Ron glaring at him. It dampened his mood again. He wanted to share the news that he'd just gotten onto a Quidditch team, but he had no one to share it with.

In the dorm later that evening as Harry sat studying on his bed, Draco sat at his desk and stared at him. The other boys were in the common room or library.

"I know what you're doing Potter."

Harry looked up from his Charms book.

"You heard me," Draco said. "You think you're going to earn a present from Snape by earning points. Well guess what, it's not going to happen. You're not going to come on to our team and become the star either."

"I don't want to be a star."

"Right, famous prince Potter with his famous big head doesn't want any more fame and fortune than he already has. How humble of you. This still isn't your house Potter, and I'm not going to let you earn points."

"You'll stop me?"

"That's right. I'm smarter than you, it shouldn't be a problem." He turned back to his desk and his own studying and popped a black liccorice snap into his mouth. Harry stared at the back of his blond head for long minutes and then set his book down. Be a man, he thought. If I'm not a Gryffindor anymore, than what am I? The only answer is Slytherin. He stood up and went to stand behind Draco. He leaned down, startling the blond, and said, "I'm a Slytherin. I will earn the fifty points, and I will play on the team, because I want to." Then he went into the hallway just for a dramatic exit. Let Draco chew on that for a while. He smiled to himself. It wasn't one of hapiness but rather of humor. He knew how to be a Gryffindor. Being a Gryffindor meant being coragous and selfless, true, and loyal. So much for loyalty he thought as Ron and Hermione came to mind. Slytherins valued other things. They weren't selfless, they wanted things for themselves. Harry certainly wanted a father for himself so he supposed in that respect Ron was right, he had switched sides. Maybe if he showed that more, he would fit in more here. He supposed Slytherins weren't all about themselves though. They took great pains to protect each other and the house points. Was that loyalty and self sacrifice? He didn't know. It was something. Gryffindors didn't do that. Gryffindor usually lost half the points they gained and had to work double hard to get them back. Slytherin would have won the cup last year if it hadn't been for Dumbledore's last minute points to him, Ron, Hermione, and Neville.

He went to the bathroom and then went back into his dorm room. Draco was still sitting at his desk where he left him, but Harry had the impression he was only pretending to read. Maybe he'd scared him. Good. Maybe he'll leave me alone, he thought.

* * *

Playing for Slytherin was different than playing for Gryffindor. Practices were more grueling. They did excessive ammounts of drills on the field, and once back in the common room they went over plays for hours on end. Harry had to sit with the team at meal times too in the week leading up to the big game, where Thomas questioned them on every move in their play book excessively. Harry was dreaming about these plays too. He literally felt like he was eating and sleeping Quidditch. It felt good though to be back on his broom and to feel like part of something again. No one on the team talked to him much except Thomas. The others sometimes shouted things at him up in the air, especially if he made a mistake. He'd never trained as a Chaser before so this was all new to him. He liked it. He still felt better suited to Seeker, but he could live with being a Chaser for now. They also had back up players. Players who weren't as good but who could jump in and take the place of an injured team member. Gryffindor had two of them, but Slytherin had one for every position except Seeker and they practiced and drilled with the main team in mock games. Even though the backups weren't as good, Thomas drilled them hard too.

"You're the backup for Seeker Potter," Thomas told him one day while he was on the ground drinking from a water bottle. "If something happens to Draco in game, you're in and one of the backup Chasers will fill in for you."

"You can't give him my spot!" Draco shouted from a few feet away.

"Cool it Draco," Thomas held up his hand to forestall any more complaints. "I said he's your back up. Don't get hurt and you won't need him."

Draco sneered at Harry and then took off up into the air. Harry didn't want to deal with him, no matter how much he wanted to be the Seeker again.

By the game on Saturday Harry had earned five more points and felt he was better than ever at Quidditch and hoped to help them win so he could gain ten more points. Draco shoved past him in the locker room as he went out to take his place on the game field in the air above Madam Hooch.

"Don't even think about him Potter," Thomas told him as he passed by him and out the door as well. Harry mounted his broom and flew out to take his place as Chaser. He knew that somewhere up in the stands were Ron and Hermione and his other peers from Gryffindor. He hoped they weren't cheering against him, but thought that they probably were.

Harry expected Fred and George to aim the Bludger at him more often than the other Slytherins now that he had changed teams, but was surprised to find that they went out of their way not to hit him with the Bludger. Thomas told him during time out to use it to his advantage and had the other two Chasers start passing Harry the Quaffle more often. Harry wasn't sure what to think about the twins sparing him like that, but in the end it helped him score more goals. Draco caught the Snitch, being better trained than Gryffindor's new Seeker Bill Berkle, and they won. Harry had his ten points. He was now up to 25 and his goal of fifty seemed a lot more achievable even though he only had four weeks left to secure another 25 points.

Just like in Gryffindor, Slytheirn celebrated their win though the celebration took place after the Halloween feast down in the common room. No one celebrated Harry and he was mostly left to himself, but he still sat in the corner and tried to be happy about doing so well in his first game as Chaser. He'd managed to snag a nice little bag of candy at the feast so he sorted through that and tried different kinds. It was a lot of strange candies he'd never had before, but that wasn't saying much becuase he'd never eaten much candy before. There were liccorice snaps that tried to bite your fingers, and if you weren't careful bite your tongue, a new line of Bertie Botts that had all sorts of exotic and tropical flavors (including cow patties), mango flavored liccorice, mini cold ice creams that only melted when they hit your tongue, and chocolate crickets that played their music when you chewed them up amongst other things.

The party was still going when Harry went back to the dorm to study. He still had 25 points to earn.

* * *

Earning points in class was taking too much time. He had to do more but what? Hermione had said to go above and beyond, but what did that even mean? He couldn't think of much of anything until he was packing up at the end of Transfiguration one day and saw that the blackboard was filthy. He hated cleaning, but years of doing it for Petunia made him feel like a clean freak. He hated to see things as filthy as the blackboard. Some mess he could handle, like the dirty clothes at the bottom of his trunk, but not too much. Most of the class had gone and McGonagall had just left, so he went to the front of the room, grabbed the eraser, and hurriedly began taking the excess chalk dust off of the board.

"She's gone Potter," Draco drawled from somewhere behind him.

"So?"

"So what are you doing?"

"It's really dirty." He couldn't hear Draco's eye roll, but he was certain it was there.

"Mr. Potter." He spun around. McGonagall had come back into the room. Why had some come back?

"Maam?"

"What are you doing?"

His hand was still paused midway up the board with the eraser in hand. "Cleaning?"

She pursed her lips and Harry noted that Draco's mouth was half open as he watched the scene unfold. "2 Points to Gryff- Slytherin for going out of your way to do something unnessarily nice."

"Um, thank you Professor," Harry said. He turned his head a little further to see that Draco's eyes were about to bug out of his head now and then went back to cleaning the board. McGonagall stayed until he was finished and then Harry hurried out with Draco so he wouldn't be late to his next class.

"Suck up."

"What are you talking about? She wasn't even in the room."

"You knew she would come back somehow."

"Did not." Draco gave him a sideways glance and Harry couldn't help but to grin as if he had planned it. In Charms later that day Draco tried to hurry to the blackboard and erase it for Flitwick at the end of class, but Flitwick told him that was what charms were for and didn't award him anything. Draco gave Harry a dirty look as he left the room and Harry laughed earning himself a dirty look from Ron.

Draco had done it wrong, Harry thought. He could try to earn points by doing more cleaning or 'unnessarily kind' acts. He decided to try in Potions the next day. He had more than one motive to do it in Potions though. The more he worked to get the points and the present, the more he had fantasized about his father of approving of him. Maybe if he did something nice for him, he'd get there a little quicker.

Harry knew that Snape used different sizes and types of cauldrons for different classes and often hurried to put away the cauldrons at the end of class becuase students didn't have time to before their next class. So at the end of class as the room was emptying out, Harry left his bag at his work bench (which was now on the Slytherin side of the room) and went desk to desk, stacking cauldrons to carry into the work room. Snape looked up and stared at him for a full ten seconds before Draco burst back into the room, surprising them both, dropped his bag on the floor and raced to the Gryffindor side where he began stacking cauldrons. He shot Harry a dirty look, paused, and then started throwing cauldrons on top of each other. Harry took this as a personal challenge and almost toppled the four cauldrons he already had stacked. He made it to the front row of desks at the same time as Draco and they both breathed hard, not realizing that Snape was watching this scene with some ammount of irritation and curiosity.

"Dare I ask what that was about?"

"Just wanted to help out sir," Draco was quick to speak first and Harry sent him an irritated look.

"I see." He traced his bottom lip with a finger. "Thank you." Draco's face fell at not getting a point and he grabbed is bag and headed for the door. Harry's face fell quite a bit further than Draco's as he took his bag and headed towards the door as well.

"Potter." Harry turned.

"Do not do that again."

Harry frowned. He wasn't allowed to help? He hadn't expected praise from the man but he hadn't expected him to be angry either.

"Sir?"

"You heard me." Snape pointed at the door and Harry let his shoulders fall as he opened it and went out.

"Not in Potions freak," Draco said. He was waiting in the corridor. "This is still my house."

"You're a second year, you don't run the house."

"And you're a Gryffindor. I don't care who your father is, you'll always be a Potter."

Draco hurried away and Harry turned and did something he'd never done before. He slammed his hand into a wall, which hurt a lot more than he thought it would considdering the wall was made of stone, and then slumped down against the wall and put his head in his hands. He had a free period anyway. Technically he was supposed to go to study hall if he had a free period, but madam Hooch never went looking for or reported students that didn't show up unless a whole group of them was missing.

He's not right, he tried to tell himself. He's not right. He'll see when I get that present. They'll all see. He'll see how hard I'm working to do well in Slytherin and win the cup for Slytherin and he'll start being nice to me. He'll take me home for Christmas and then the summer and I'll never go back to the Dursleys again. Harry was lost in his misery and his fantasy, head still in his hands as his father walked by. He never said a word to Harry and Harry never knew he had passed by him at all.

* * *

Harry didn't know how he got pointed out as the one who had skipped study hall, but at dinner that night a detention slip was delivered to him. He'd be serving detention that night after dinner with Madam Hooch in a room just off of the Great Hall that he'd never been to. Harry picked at his food, still feeling bad for himself, and waited until most everyone had cleared out of the room before he headed to the door at the right side of the head table and knocked.

"I'm in here Potter," he heard Hooch call from inside. He opened the door and was surprised to find an office with large windows over looking the grounds and in the distance the Quidditch Pitch.

"You missed study hall today Harry," she said.

"I'm sorry."

"I believe you are and I believe you must have had a good reason. You didn't look too happy during dinner."

He looked down at his shoes then. He hadn't been happy since the first night of school when he'd found out about Snape.

"You still have to serve detention though. Don't worry, I won't keep you terribly long. At least you're not missing Quidditch practice tonight since Ravenclaws have the field. They've got an advantage since all of their team members are above fourth year and they can stay out later to practice." She pointed out the window and through the dim light Harry could just make out tiny dark figures above the pitch.

"Have a seat. You can help me clean some school equipment and I'll have you back to your dorm before curfew."

She motioned to a rag and a small bucket of soapy water and a box with several beat up quaffles and old riding gloves. Harry picked up a Quaffle and the wet rag and began polishing.

"Your father played Quidditch you know," she said as she wrote something on parchment on the other side of her desk.

"James?"

"He played too. No, Professor Snape Harry."

"Oh."

"You don't sound pleased."

Harry stopped polishing and stared at the desk in a daze.

"Is Professor Snpae the reason you missed study hall today?"

He looked up and began polishing the Quaffle slowly again. "Sort of."

"Where were you?"

"Sitting in the corridor outside the potions room."

"I see. And you didn't want to go to study hall?"

"I didn't think about it. I guess I just wanted to be alone."

She put her quill down and gave him a look he couldn't decipher. In the end he decided it wasn't malicious though.

"You know, I run study hall because my office is right here. Professor Snape runs it occasionally if I have to be out for flying lessons. But if there's ever a time when you have study hall but want to be alone, you are welcome to come and sit in my office."

Harry looked up and he supposed his eyes were filled with gratitude but she didn't react if they were. "I- I can?"

"I trust you Mr. Potter. Even if you're in Slytherin, you're still a Gryffindor at heart. Perhaps you're a Slytherin at heart too. I wouldn't have thought that except I saw you play your very best in the game last week and only a Slytherin would try that hard to win for Slytherin. Whatever you are, I know this: you're still you. You're still just Harry. Don't let others make you forget that."

He stared at her and blinked several times. Finally he looked back down to the Quaffle. "Thank you."

"Finish polishing that and the other four Quaffles and then you can back to your dorm, unless you want to stay longer, then you can finish the box."

Harry looked up and gave her another look of gratitude and set to cleaning and polishing. So far this year, this was the one room in the castle where he'd been allowed to just be himself. She didn't expect him to be a Gryffindor, or a Slytherin, or a Snape, or a traitor, or anything else. She'd given him permission to just be him, and it was a relief. He didn't have to preform for her. He did finish the entire box, and he made it back Slytherin just two minutes before curfew.

"Out sucking up to more teachers Potter?" Draco sneered when he came in. It looked like Draco was involved in a study group with Teddy, Blaise, and several second year girls at a table by the fireplace.

"Detention," Harry said.

"Loser," Blaise said and some of the girls laughed. Harry continued past them and went to his room where he pulled out his books to study. For a short while, he was himself, but now he was back here and he had expectations he'd set for himself to live up to. He had to be Hermione for a few more weeks so he could earn those points so he could be what Snape wanted him to be. In truth, he didn't really know what Snape wanted him to be, but he hoped this was it. He studied well into the night until the others had gone to sleep and then closed his curtains and lay under the covers. He pulled out the tattered bear from under his pillow, the only stuffed animal he'd ever had as a child, and held it close. He liked to think his mother and James had given it to him. He knew the Dursleys would never give something like it to him, so they must have. He kissed it's head like he did every night, feeling foolish for only a moment for cuddling a bear at 12, and then slept, knowing that even if he fell alseep right away, he'd still be tired tomorrow.

Harry caught sight of the twins at the end of a hall just after lunch in the middle of the week up on the second floor. They appeared to be pouring over an aging parchment. Harry approached them cautiously, not certain how he'd be received, and waited for them to notice him. Fred looked up first and then nudged his brother with his elbow.

"Harry," George said. Harry tried to detect any ill will in his tone, but couldn't tell if there was any or not.

He held onto the fraying strap of his backpack tightly with both hands. "I- I wondered..." he trailed off and George leaned back against the wall.

"Why we didn't pummel you with Bludgers in the game?"

He nodded. Gryffindor for Harry had really been like two families, the entire house, and then the Quidditch team, which had it's own cameraderie.

Fred and George exchanged a look again and then rolled up their parchment. "We're not gits like our brother. We know about you and Snape. We figure you're trying to patch things up with him. Besides, we know you didn't ask to be put there."

"But, I joined the Quidditch team."

"We knew you were going to join. Thomas talked to Wood the day before he asked you. You're a Quidditch player. Nobody expected you to stop just because you were in another house."

"Ron did."

"And, he's a git," George repeated.

Harry scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe. "Thanks."

Fred put his hand to his head and mimicked taking off a hat. Harry gave them a nod and turned to go to class.

"Harry!" George called, and he turned back. "Don't expect us to give you a free pass every game. We're Quidditch players too you know." He grinned and Harry allowed a smile to cross his face too.

Maybe all of the Gryffindors hadn't disowned him yet. It gave him hope that if in the end things didn't work out with his father, that all was not lost.

* * *

There was one week left until Christmas holiday and Harry was at 47 points. With three points to go, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. His father was going to get him a gift and he tried to think of what it might be, his mind drifting into fantasy about having a happy Christmas. If his father was going to give him a gift, then he would need to give him one in return. It took Harry three days to come up with the perfect thing. Madam Hooch had said he'd played Quidditch (a Chaser too consequently), so he must love the game like Harry did. He certainly showed up to all the matches. So Harry snuck several pieces of scrap wrapping paper away from a table where girls of all years were wrapping gifts and went back to his bed where he wrapped his Snitch. The first snitch he'd ever caught. He didn't write his name on it though. His father would know it was from him. Now he just needed an opportunity to present itself to give it to him, though maybe in secret he thought. Maybe he could just find a way to get it onto his desk.

There was a knock on his dorm door, and since he was the only one in the room at the moment, he opened it. Thomas was on the other side.

"I saw you take paper from the table."

"I didn't mean to steal it, I swear," Harry said. "I thought they were scraps they were going to throw out."

"Calm down Potter. I just wanted to know if you had anything you wanted me to give to Professor Snape. I have to go to his office in half an hour to start patrol. It's my night to go out in the corridors."

"You know I have something for him?" Harry asked skeptically.

"You don't have any friends, so I assumed you were wrapping something for him. I also heard Draco complaining about you trying to earn 50 points. Is it true?"

Harry handed him the small wrapped Snitch. "I'm at 47."

"Well, you've still got a couple days left. Do something big and rack up the points all in one go. I'll put this on his desk when he's not looking."

"Thanks." Was Thomas his friend? He'd certainly been nice enough to him.

* * *

Harry hummed a Christmas tune as he strode down the corridors two days later. He'd just earned three points from McGongall for helping up a first year Hufflepuff who'd just fallen in the hallway and scattered her books and quills everywhere. He had his 50 points and today was the last day of classes. Tonight everyone would be packing up to go home on the train, and tomorrow they'd be gone. Harry would be here though. From what he'd heard around Slytherin, most of the house would be going home, and he looked forward to having the place mostly to himself for a few weeks. Thomas would be staying and so would a few fifth and seventh years who were studying for their OWLS and NEWTS, but the second years would all be gone and Harry would have the dorm to himself. He wondered if Ron and Hermione would both be going home, but thought then that it didn't matter, becuase they weren't speaking to him and he wasn't getting a present from them or anyone else this year. Just Snape. His 50 points made sure of that.

The day passed in a flurry of students bursting into carols in the halls, teachers handing out last minute assignments and giving the students well wishes for the holidays, and an impromtu party that had broken out in Slytherin Common room. Christmas was in just a few days and Harry was more excited than he'd ever been about Christmas before.

That night, Harry lay back on his covers in bed and put his hands behind his head. For the first time in months, he had no studying to do, and no points to worry about earning. Draco opened the door to the dorm, sneered at Harry when he saw him, and left again. Pratt, Harry thought to himself. At least he had left him alone though. If only he would have been content to leave him alone the next morning too.

The other second year boys had already levitated their trunks up to the Great Hall, including Draco, and Harry had pulled a book out of his trunk to read as he sat at the desk that Draco usually reserved for himself. There were only two in the room, and since the other boys were gone, Harry didn't see an issue with sitting there since this desk was the closest to his bed.

He'd only been sitting there, reading for a few minutes when the door opened again however to reveal Draco.

"That's mine!" Draco said angrily. Harry frowned.

"I warned you Potter! I warned you not to try to come in and take over!"

Harry tried to dodge as Draco lunged at him, but there wasn't much of an option for escape since the chair back was on one side and the desk was on the other. Draco took him and the chair over backwards. Harry reached for his wand, but Draco was already hitting him in the face and Harry couldn't see to find his wand.

When it was over, Draco was panting and his hair was disheveled as he stood, blood on his knuckles.

Harry coughed and groaned. "Thought- you had- more decorum - than this."

"You'll learn," Draco spat, and then he was gone. Harry pushed himself up gingerly. The rest of him didn't feel very bad, except maybe his shoulders, but he didn't think he wanted to look at his face in a mirror. He went to his trunk and found the small hand mirror he had. His lip was swollen, and he was covered in bruises. The blood from his nose and mouth made it look worse than it was. He listened at the door to see if the hall was clear, and then went to the bathroom to wash the blood off. He hadn't had any bruise balm in weeks, so he figured it would be ok to put on after the blood was gone and his nose had stopped bleeding. The swollen lip and now swollen cheek were another matter however, something he didn't know how to take care of.

A few minutes later, after he'd done all he could do, he knocked tentatively at the seventh year boy's door. It opened to reveal a boy named Timothy. "Is Quincy in there?" Harry asked quietly, looking up at the taller boy.

Tim opened the door further so Harry could see Quincy sitting at a desk, looking over to see what was going on.

"I would get Thomas, but I think he's in the common room."

"They get you again?" Quincy asked, and motioned Harry into the room. Tim shut the door behind him and Harry tried not to feel trapped.

"Draco. I washed the blood off and put bruise balm on, but I don't know a spell for the swelling."

Quincy picked his wand up off of a bedside table and waved it, conjuring an ice pack. "There are potions, but this is the only spell I know for swelling. Ice."

Harry took it and put it up against his cheek just under his eye. He'd have to put it on his lip later. "Can you show me how to do that?"

"I thought you were going to do something about this."

"Nothing I can do. I didn't do anything last time and I still got detention for fighting and no one else did."

Tim shook his head as he and Quincy shared a look. "S'not right," Tim said. "Why don't you just tell Professor Snape what happened?"

"He never believes me," Harry said.

"Here." Quincy showed him the spell, and Harry successfully conjured another ice pack to put on his lip.

"At least you've got no one to worry about until January," Quincy said. "If you have any problems when the second years get back, come to me and I'll straighten them out."

"Thanks."

Harry left to go back to his own room, and when he'd gone, Tim turned to Quincy and said, "And he's the one who was supposed to have defeated You Know Who? Not just the one time, but last year too?"

"He can fight back. He chooses not to. Seems like a Slytherin to me."

"Slytherins don't take garbage from anybody," Tim said.

"We just wait until the time is right to get back."

* * *

The second years were gone, including Ron and Hermione, but Harry did still have someone to worry about. He kept the ice on his swollen face until he couldn't stand the cold anymore, and continued icing the injuries off and on throughout the day in between applying bruise balm, and the next day, Christmas Eve, he was able to go out again without looking like he'd been trampled by a wild animal. The bruises were still there, and his lip was split, but he didn't want to stick around in the dorm all day on Christmas eve. If anyone asked what happened to him, he could say he was on his way to the Hospital Wing. It was a good plan, or so he'd thought.

It was after lunch, and Harry was on his way to the Library, hoping to get a novel to keep him occupied for the rest of the Christmas break. Even if his father did give him flying goggles, he doubted he'd be allowed to go out flying with them, and he didn't want to be bored for the next week and a half. Mind busy thinking about the nice leather goggles he was certain he'd get, he didn't see Professor Snape approaching from the opposite direction.

"Fighting again Potter?"

Harry stopped walking and looked up, his father's features twisted into a look of disgust.

"I do not wish to be tied up administering your detentions, and I would not wish that on the other staff either, so I will be forced to take points. Thirty points from Slytherin. Ten for each detention you should be serving for refusing to stay out of trouble."

"I- I was just on my way to the Hospital Wing," Harry stammered, lifting his hand lamely in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

"And another ten points for lying to me. I should take more but I do not wish your rule breaking to damage Slytherin's chance for the house cup." Snape strode away, and didn't look back at his son's fallen shoulders. It was one day before Christmas, and he only had ten points to show for the last three months of hard work. There would be no present. He ran all the way back to Slytherin and threw himself into bed. He covered up and lay there with his stuffed bear, wishing for sleep to overtake him so he could miss Christmas altogether and not have to think about it anymore.

* * *

Harry stared at the scraps of wrapping paper and tiny square box on his bed. The dorm was empty and he knew it was early, maybe not even five yet, but he'd woken and couldn't go back to sleep. He knew he'd be getting nothing today because his friends had abandoned him and so had his father. He couldn't stand the thought of it, to feel unwanted... unloved. So he'd fished out the remaining scraps of wrapping paper in silver and green and gold and laid them on his covers with the little cardboard box that once held the first Snitch he'd ever caught. The Snitch he'd given to his father as a Christmas present days ago.

"Man up," he said to himself quietly, voice flat, trying to motivate himself to wrap it already. If he could just pretend like someone cared, then he could make it through this day. If he couldn't pretend that... he paused. He didn't like to think about what would happen to him if he couldn't even pretend that someone cared. He closed the lid of the Snitch sized box and carefully wrapped it in the scraps of paper. There was just enough that if he put them edge to edge and taped them tightly, they wraped the box. He looked around the room and spied a crumpled bow on the floor next to Blaise's wardrobe and went to pick it up. He used the last piece of tape he had and attached the smashed bow to the top of his present.

"Look Harry, it's a Christmas present," he said flatly again. He tried to smile but the pain in his eye and lip reminded him that he had no reason to, so he stopped trying.

"It's not in orange so it's not from Ron," he said to himself, sitting it on top of his trunk. "And Hermione would wrap it in blue or red so it's not from her. I wonder who it could be from." He felt foolish as he sat there on his bed and looked down at the small empty gift. He stared at it until his stomach grumbled and then got dressed and picked up the gift, putting it into a pocket. "Don't want to open this up in this dark dreary room. I bet it's something nice. Best to open it in a room with light." That ruled out the common room. He thought of Gryffindor tower and about what his Christmas had been like there last year and his throat clenched. He couldn't go up there either. He made his way through the empty common room and out into the quiet castle. It was barely six thirty. He smelled food comming from the Great Hall already, but he didn't want to go in there. He would see other students and staff looking happy and would be reminded that his smile was fake. He didn't want that.

He climbed up through the castle and decided not to go to the library because the high shelves blocked out much of the natural light from the windows. Eventually he ended up at the stairs to the North Attic. Having found no other suitable place, Harry climbed the stairs, pulled down the trap door in the ceiling, and went up the short ladder. It was dusty inside, but there was a little window in the roof that allowed light to pour in through the dust and cob webs. Eyes scanning the quiet place, Harry sat down in the center of the cluttered floor, boxes and furniture piled high around him, and set the box in front of him.

"Merry Christmas Harry," he said to himself, but he couldn't bring himself to open the box knowing it was empty. It would be too much dissapointment for him to handle. So instead he just stared at it, trying to make himself believe there was something special inside... something just for him. If he could just believe it then he would be all right.

* * *

Thomas knocked on his Head of House's office door. It was after lunch now and he was starting to get worried about Harry. Quincy had told him that Harry had been beaten up again by Draco but he'd been unable to find him this morning to check up on him. He wasn't in the Hospital Wing either and hadn't shown up to breakfast or lunch.

"Come in."

Turning the knob, Thomas pushed the door open and found Professor Snape sitting behind his desk.

"What is it Thomas?"

He closed the door and scanned the small office, not certain why he expected Harry to be there.

"I can't find Harry sir. He was gone this morning and he hasn't been to any meals."

"He will turn up when he is hungry."

"He was in bad shape though. I looked in the Hospital Wing and he wasn't there either."

The man's obsidian eyes came up to meet the sixth year Prefect's. "Explain."

"Well Draco Malfoy knocked the stuffing out of him a couple of nights ago. His face was all swollen and Quincy gave him ice for it, but he could have been hurt somewhere else too. Madam Pomfrey said he hasn't been in to see her."

"I saw him last night near the library and he seemed fine." Though secretly Severus thought that the boy had lied to him, telling him he was on his way to the Hospital Wing and then not going there directly. Severus looked up at Thomas, who looked like he wanted to say something but seemed uncertain.

"Was there something else?"

"I only wondered sir," he started, but then paused. It really wasn't his place to ask. Most of the school had heard by now that Professor Snape was Harry's father, but with the way he treated the second year, most didn't believe it. Thomas was certain it was true though.

"Yes?"

"Since we can't find Harry anywhere, I wondered when you were going to give him his present sir."

"What present would that be?"

"The one he earned for getting 50 points by Christmas."

"Mr. Potter did not earn 50 points. He lost 30 points last night for fighting and 10 for cheek." He watched as Thomas seemed to be fighting with himself then. The boy was acting very odd. Generally Thomas Ivory was even tempered, mild mannered, respectful, and responsible. Severus could see that something was about to break though as the boy turned his head slightly so he wasn't looking at his Professor, and flexed his fists.

"Mr. Ivory?"

"You're such a bastard." Thomas' voice was low and full of anger, and Severus wondered if he would have been shouting if he had not happened to be a Professor and the teen's head of house.

"Excuse me?"

"You have no idea do you?" He shook his head and it looked as though he was biting his tongue to keep further outbursts from spilling forth.

"Mr. Ivory, because I know the kind of student and Prefect you are, I am willing to overlook your prior outburst. You have under a minute to explain yourself before my patience runs out however."

"You heard me," Thomas said, turning back to look at his Professor. Severus was surprised to see something akin to fire in his eyes. "All you've been to Harry is a bastard. The hat puts him in Slytherin, probably because he asked to be closer to you, and you tell him not to make waves, not to bother you with anything. So he gets beat up every weekend by the second year boys who jump him after curfew. And he gets beat up all week long in between classes. He never says a word because you told him not to lose points and not to bother you with anything. So he poisons himself with bruise balm trying to cover it all up so he can go to classes and see his friends. His friends- oh...." he paused, trying to reign in his temer. "His friends abandoned him because he decided to earn house points for Slytherin. Not because he wanted to be part of Slytherin, or win the house cup, but because he wanted a present from his father. He wanted to prove to you that he was worth your time and attention. But you don't give him that do you? You give him detentions for fighting when he does anything but fight back, and you take away points he's tried to earn all term on Christmas Eve! So now, not only did he choose you over his friends, so now he gets no presents from his friends, but he doesn't even get a present from you either." By the end of his tirade he seemed to have burned himself out, but was still visibly angry.

"Do not let him fool you Thomas. He is pampered. He has family who will send him presents."

"You mean the family that didn't send him presents this year? I checked and he didn't get anything. Or was it the family that lets him go to school with holey shoes and no toothbrush or toothpaste? Or maybe it's the family that lets him walk around in ripped up clothes?" Thomas looked at Severus and Severus was surprised at the look of disgust on the 16 year olds face. Not many people had the audacity or courage to tell Severus exactly what they thought of him, and he'd never yet known a student to look on him with disgust.

"I always thought highly of you Professor. But your kid gives you a Christmas present, probably the only thing that even matters to him that he owns, and you go out of your way to make sure he has the worst Christmas ever. Or the worst school year." He shook his head and made a hasty escape out the office door, leaving it open behind him.

Mind running as Severus tried to control his own anger at the teen's outburst, he tried to sort through the myriad of information that had just been spewed out at him. The boy had no toothbrush? He knew the child had less than adequate clothing because he'd seen it. And he hadn't gotten any presents at all? Where were the presents from his aunt and uncle? And what was this about a present from the boy? All he'd gotten this year was a present from Draco, a fine gold pen, and a Snitch from Thomas... or a strangely wrapped Snitch that Thomas had left on his desk. A present with no name. He'd wondered at the time that the sixteen year old had wrapped it in what appeared to be scraps of paper and that he'd not written his name so he could take credit for the gift.

Severus opened his desk drawer and examined the golden Snitch more closely. It was definitely used and had smudges all over it, as though someone had held or played with it often. Could this have been from Harry? Why would he even give him a gift? He was certain the boy hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. Had the child not made his disgust for having him as a father clear at the start of the term? Severus closed his eyes and shuddered at the memory of Potter and Weasley sitting in his office after he caught them flying to school. Minerva had tried to send a letter to the boy's 'closest living relative', a spell sometimes used to send fast messages in times of emergency, and the letter had vanished only to pop up on Severus' lap a moment later.

If the Snitch was from Harry, why a Snitch? Thomas may have been right, it could have been the child's most treasured possession, especially if it was the first Snitch he'd ever caught, though he doubted it was his most treasured item. The child has a fast racing broom after all, and an invisibility cloak from James Potter. Both items were more expensive than any gift Severus had ever gotten as a child or as an adult.

"Point me Harry Potter." His wand vibrated in his wand sleeve and he pulled it out and held it firmly as the tip pointed upwards. He was going to get to the bottom of this. Half of what Thomas said couldn't have been true, and he wanted to know how Potter had wrapped the usually intelligent sixth year around his little finger so quickly.

* * *

Harry hugged his knees in the attic, feeling chilled. He wished he had a blanket to keep warm as he sat and stared at his gift. If I look at it long enough, he told himself, there will be something inside. He wished it were true and that reality could just melt away from him, but that didn't stop him from crying presently, or every once in a while throughout the long hours he'd spent there this Christmas day. No, Harry knew that in reality, wishes were never enough, because they never came true. He'd wished on too many stars lying on the grass in the backyard of Four Privet Drive after getting locked out of the house. He'd wished too many times to be normal, and wanted, and to have the basic things he needed to keep going. Hogwarts had seemed like an answer to that wish last year, but this year, at this particular moment, it seemed very much like just another big disappointment.

There was a creaking noise and Harry startled as the trap door in the floor lifted opened ten feet away and Professor Snape's head appeared, looking around in the dimming light of the attic. Harry hugged his knees tighter as he stared at the present and rocked gently. Oh no. I'm in trouble now. I'm going to get it. I'm all alone up here and I've done something wrong. Mind frantic he let his wet eyes glaze over as he stared at the package. He was aware after some time that the Professor had taken a seat on the dusty floor next to him, but he wasn't sure how long it had been before he'd noticed and didn't know why he wasn't being yelled at yet.

Finally, Snape spoke and Harry was unsure why the man was so quiet and calm. "What is in the package?"

Harry rocked some more and cleared his throat so he could speak. "It's a wonderful present."

"What is it?"

Harry wiped his eyes with his sleeve, now dirty as it had been used this way all day. "It's what I've always wanted."

"Why have you not opened it?"

Harry struggled then not to let more hot tears spill forth. He'd be in trouble if he did, he just knew it. He bit his lip to keep it from quivering and swallowed hard. "Because there's nothing in there. I tried to pretend, but I couldn't."

"Someone gave you an empty present?"

"I wrapped it. I never get Christmas presents. Except for last year, when I was still a Gryffindor." He swallowed again and put his face down in his arms. The darkness was comforting, and unlike the present, he could almost pretend that he was back in his cupboard, and that he was not there in this situation with Professor Snape, whom he still wasn't sure when he would start yelling. Actually, he'd felt like he was in his cupboard since he'd arrived in the attic. It was quiet and dusty and cramped, and he was alone. Snape was there now though and he couldn't get that feeling of security back.

"Does your face hurt?"

Harry stiffened then and stopped rocking. "No sir."

"It is still very bruised."

"I fell."

Thomas' words intermingled with Harry's words from the Hospital Wing weeks ago and haunted Severus then as he relived them at the same time in his mind, something that sometimes happened to those accomplished in the art of Occlumency.

'All you've been to Harry is a bastard. The hat puts him in Slytherin, probably because he asked to be closer to you, and you tell him not to make waves, not to bother you with anything. So he gets beat up every weekend by the second year boys who jump him after curfew.' 'You told me to lie. You told me not to lose any house points. You told me not to cause trouble. You told me not to complain to you unless it was life or death. If I tell you the truth, I do all three of those things.' And then his own voice floated into the intermingled memories as well. 'Insolent brat.' ... 'Yeah that's me.' 'Fighting again Potter... I shall be forced to take points...'

Severus cleared his throat. Perhaps he had been the insolent one. The foolish one. "As I understand it, Draco Malfoy and the other boys have been cornering you in the dormitories and hurting you."

"Fell," came Harry's muffled reply again.

"I see. I wish to ammend my previous statement to you about your time in Slytherin. If there is trouble in our house, I wish to hear about it immediately, regardless of if it is a life or death situation. You are not causing trouble by telling the truth, or by comming to me about issues you are experiencing. Asking to have your needs met is not being coddled, it is required as a Slytherin. These things are also required as my son."

Harry tilted his head sideways to peek at the Potions Master and green eyes met obsidian. Had the man just told Harry to come to him if he needed help? No one had done that before. Madam Hooch had come the closest with giving him a place to just be himself. He'd also been told to tell the truth and told that he wouldn't get in trouble for it. Did that mean Draco and the others would get in trouble for hurting him or that he could finally fight back? And there was something about his needs being met too... as his son.

He stared at the mismatched wrapped present on the floor in front of him and finally reached out to take it. He pulled the smashed bow off the top and pulled the paper off. It wasn't empty inside, but to Severus it appeared that way.

"I thought you said it was empty."

"I said it was what I always wanted. I was right," and Harry wondered then why he was smiling and if it was because he had believed and wished it were true for so long, that it had actually become true. He turned and handed the box to his father who took it and stared inside.

"I didn't fall," Harry said, "I couldn't fight back because I knew I'd get in trouble for it. I always get in trouble for fighting back, even at the Dursleys. Draco came in and I was sitting in the desk chair. He tackled me and pinned me to the ground and told me he was going to teach me a lesson and I'd better learn it." Harry spoke clearly and candidly about his time in Slytherin up to this point, including how kind Thomas, Quincy, and Timothy had been and about what his friends thought of him, and how they thought he was horrible for wanting something for himself. As Severus continued to stare into the box he told him about how he felt like he was betraying the only people who had ever accepted him, and had recently found out that they had never really accepted him at all, and how that stung to know that he was not allowed to ever be normal and have people who cared about him. The people he currently counted as friends was a surprising five people. The Weasley twins, Thomas, Quincy, and Madam Hooch, who had told him that around her, he was free to be himself. Severus' own heart stung as his son spoke and finally quieted after nearly twenty minutes. He was still staring into the box, trying to understand how Harry had suddenly found a gift inside though it was empty. Something that he had always wanted.

"Harry-" Severus said, throat tight, box still in hand. "What is in the box?"

"You are."

"Me?" No one could conceivably want Severus Snape for Christmas, nor ever. It was not a part of his reality and Severus tilted his head realizing that he had often felt much the same way that Harry had just described to him: completely alone.

Harry reached down to the floor and picked up the smashed bow. Severus watched as the boy seemed hesitant with the bow in hand. Suddenly as if making up his mind, he reached forward and put the bow on top of Severus shoulder where it perched precariously because the sticky had long since worn off the bottom of it.

"I am in the box?"

Harry gave a single nod, still looking uncertain. What had he to even offer the boy? A run down house in London that was full of cobwebs? Security. A more often than not foul demeanor? The basic neccessities of life. A propensity to see the worst in people? Eyes that had been opened to Harry's true nature and the ability to let him be himself (if he worked very hard to let him be). A past as a death eater who couldn't get a job at the Ministry if he tried? Protection. The mindset obtained from being alone for nearly all forty five years of his life? Understanding.

"If I am your Christmas gift, then you are mine," Severus said, finally looking from the box to Harry. Harry seemed startled by his statement and watched him with wide eyes as he stood up and held his hand down to him to help him up as well. "I apologize for taking your points away from you and for treating you as I have. There is no excuse for that and I have been a deplorable excuse for a teacher or parent. Especially today." Harry's stomach grumbled in an embarassing way then and Severus pulled up the trap door in the floor. "See, I have neglected to feed you a Christmas meal. I believe the feast will be starting soon, but you can't go looking like that." He lead the way down the ladder and Harry followed. Severus lead him back to the dungeons and into his office where he pulled a tin of bruise balm out, asked Harry how much he'd had of it in the last week, and then applied it gently to the bruises on his face. Harry watched his dark eyes as he tended his injuries and was quiet until his father was done.

"You look presentable now. Do you wish to attend the feast?"

Harry gave a single nod and Severus closed the several jars of balms and potions he'd opened to heal Harry's wounds. The boy's hair was still a mess and he had circles under his eyes, but he had promised him food and didn't want to send the child to bed without a proper Christmas meal.

They walked up to the Great Hall in silence and sat down together at Slytherin table next to Thomas who looked oddly satisfied (Harry wondered why) and Quincy and Timothy. The four house tables and staff table had been reduced to two and Harry hungrily piled food onto his plate as Thomas started to ask him about Quidditch and the astronomy professor jumped in on the conversation.

That night as his father walked him back to the Slytherin dorms and made sure that Harry got inside, Harry thought that despite the start of the day, Christmas hadn't been so bad after all. That tiny square box ended up having the best gift of all. Harry didn't know what his family would be like, or what it would be like growing up with this new and oddly improved version of Severus Snape, but he did know he no longer had such an aching wish to fulfill. He lay in bed in the darkness, face healed and as he drifted off he thought to himself, the hat was right. It is a different kind of love, when you really need someone.

* * *

Harry James Potter Snape walked down the corridor on the first day of the new term. He still had Slytherin green robes on, only now he also had new shoes without holes, and new warm clothes on as well underneath them. His books rode around on his shoulder in a new leather book bag with a leather strap, and best of all, he had a smile on his bruise free face. His body felt good and he wasn't worried about any of the Slytherins trying to hurt him anymore. Draco had come back to the dorms two hours later than the rest of the students on the night they had returned on the train, complaining to Crabbe about being yelled at for over an hour, and the next day the rest of the second year boys had been called in to get their turn being chastised. It felt so good to have an adult on his side... a parent.

"Hey Harry, nice bag!" Fred said as he and George passed by. Harry turned and grinned and George said, "but what happened to your hair? Did a monster eat it?" They disappeared around a corner on their way to class and Harry laughed. His father had insisted on cutting it and to Harry's dismay had pulled out a Muggle style electric razor that ran on magic. When all was said and done though, he was happy with his new, shorter haircut. He didn't have to do much to it in the morning and he felt different with it this way, cleaner somehow and like he was ready to take on the world in a different way, or at least the school.

Harry sat down in Charms and pulled his Charms book out and was surprised when Hermione sat down next to him and Ron on her other side. He turned in time to see Hermione's shocked face. "Harry? Is that you?"

"I think so." Ron leaned forward to look and his eyes widened in surprise.

"But your hair-" Hermione trailed off.

"My dad cut it for me. It looks nice right?" Her eyes traveled his bruise free face and his eyes, now without the dark circles underneath. Ron seemed to be looking at Harry's new bag and the new quills he had.

"P- Professor Snape did that?"

"He said it was better short. He was right. Look, he fixed my glasses too. I can see now because they're the right prescription."

Hermione looked at Ron and Harry was interested in their expressions. They didn't seem angry... more confused.

Finally Hermione said, "You look good Harry."

He smiled. He felt good, and it was nice to feel that way for the first time in so long.

---------------------------------

Afterward

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exercised a tentative friendship for a few weeks after the new term started, and were soon inseperable again. Ron and Hermione upon seeing how happy and well taken care of Harry was after the break, realized that it was not wrong for Harry to try to do what he had to do to gain a parent (and Harry suspected the twins had told his two friends as much). After the Christmas holiday, Draco and the other second year Slytherin boys were all given a reprimand on their permanent record and had letters sent home. They served several weeks of detention and Draco was moved to the second string Quidditch team because of his misconduct, though Harry did not take up Seeker again until his third year because he enjoyed the new challenge of playing Chaser. At the end of the year, when Quincy graduated, Thomas was given the new position of Head Boy, and he made certain that there was no abuse or bullying in Slytherin house until he graduated. Like the one previous student in Hogwarts history who had been resorted, Harry remained in his new house and never went back to Gryffindor, though he maintained close friendships with many Gryffindors, and eventually married one. He became a Prefect and served next to Ron and Hermione as Prefects in their fifth through seventh years. After many years in Slytherin, Harry and Draco did eventually set their differences aside and became friends. Severus took good care of Harry, and was always there for him. In turn, Harry was always there for Severus. Each Christmas after second year, they always gave each other an empty box amongst their other gifts to each other. They always considered each other, the best gift one could have.

The End.