S.S.

"How do you feel?" Severus asked, pulling the curtains open and flooding the room with early morning sun.

"Like sleeping," Harry mumbled into his pillow.

"How is your head?" he clarified, peering at his face for signs of paleness or fever.

"I'm right as rain. Going back to sleep." With that Harry rolled over and pulled his duvet over his head.

"Get up. You have twenty minutes to be washed, dressed and at the kitchen table," Severus ordered, free to return to his usual tone now that he had ascertained Harry's good health.

"Train's not 'til eleven," Harry whined from somewhere under a mass of duvet.

"Twenty minutes," he repeated firmly.

Severus tidied up the kitchen absentmindedly in preparation for leaving, his usual start of term gloom beginning to settle. He never enjoyed going back to teaching after a pleasant summer in his own company, but this September his reluctance for term to start seemed odd. It was hardly as if he'd had the relaxing summer he'd earned after a hard year's work at Hogwarts, but he still wasn't ready for it to be over just yet. There was so much left unfinished. Harry still didn't feel comfortable enough to begin talking about his relatives and they'd only just settled into what passed for a pleasant routine.

Harry shuffled tiredly into the kitchen in what was clearly more teenage laziness than illness, although he'd no doubt exhausted himself the evening before. Severus flicked his wand, sending a full bowl of cereal in Harry's direction as said boy sat himself at the kitchen table.

Harry dunked his spoon loudly into his bowl of cereal, pulling a face at his soggy cornflakes before speaking. "Severus? What made it so bad this time? I wasn't ill or asleep and it was a million times worse." His voice was tinged with interest, as if the pain of the night before was inconsequential or a mere distant memory.

"You finished off your box of cereal yesterday. I'm not opening a new box for one morning," Severus commented as Harry tried to peer around him to see if his usual cereal was on the counter. "And to answer your question, I did. The fault lies with me. I believe that I increased your sensitivity to the Dark Lord when I slipped into your mind. I should have considered the repercussions of allowing you to practice mind magic when you were experiencing pain in your scar."

"That's okay," Harry said after a moment.

"It's not okay," Severus disagreed. "I do not know what effect this will continue to have on you. From what I've seen your episodes been slowly increasing in intensity but to get to that extreme… I would hope that if I do not further intrude in your mind then the episodes will go back to being infrequent and far less painful."

"We're not going to do it any more?"

What is wrong with the child? "Of course we're not going to do it any more! You were in agony."

"But what if it carries on anyway? Then it wouldn't make a difference."

"It could worsen. There is no need to put you in pain for the sake of Occlumency. You can still clear your mind if you wish to."

"If I could do this Occlumency stuff properly then it wouldn't happen at all, would it?"

"You're fourteen years old and only just. You will not be able to master Occlumency with any amount of speed. It is unnecessary at this stage. if I had left you be then you would not have been in such pain."

"Yeah, but if Voldemort comes back then won't it get worse?"

"When the Dark Lord comes back. I've got time to set you a punishment before you leave for the train. Do not say that name in front of me again."

"It would though, wouldn't it?" Harry persisted.

"Yesterday you didn't want to do it at all and after the extraordinary amount of pain you suffered I fail to see why you're so eager to continue."

"I just think that maybe if I learned it then it would be better in the long run." Severus shook his head. For Harry that sounded like a reasonably well thought out and mature answer, which made him certain that Harry was hiding his true motive, not that he had the slightest idea what that might be.

"I will discuss the matter with the headmaster," he conceded, merely because it was the truth. "As it stands, Harry, it is a no."

"It's my head," Harry argued indignantly.

"But it is my choice," Severus said, closing the matter.

H.P.

Severus pulled Harry's trunk over to the floo and stacked Hedwig's empty cage on top of it before turning to face him.

"You've packed everything?" Snape asked, continuing what Harry considered was an unhealthy obsession with his school trunk.

"Yes, I've packed like a million times–"

"You're certain that everything you need is in that trunk?" Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape's tone. He thinks he's got something… What could he have left out? He wracked his brains for a few moments and still drew a blank.

"Yes," he replied confidently after a moment.

"You've not left anything out this morning that you want to pack?"

"No."

"You're aware that I'm not going to come back here to fetch anything you've forgotten?"

"Yes!"

"You've left a pair of your pyjamas out, Harry."

"I know. I'm leaving them here." Harry rolled his eyes. He'd actually quite purposefully placed them on the end of his bed. He'd even folded them instead of tossing them onto his pillow. It was a nice thought that he could leave something behind to come back to; he'd never wanted to do that before. All his belongings actually did fit in his trunk, even though with the clothes Snape got him it was a bit more of a squeeze than usual. But it'd be nice if one day he could still have stuff in his room after he'd packed for Hogwarts, just stuff for home.

"If you need more space in your trunk you could try folding your clothes. I guarantee you could fit everything in."

"I know I can fit them in. Why can't I leave them here?"

Snape opened his mouth to reply but then seemed to change his mind before settling on saying, "You can leave them here if you wish. I'm not coming back for them during term. If they're here then they're here."

"That's fine," Harry replied.

S.S.

"Remember, we do not like each other. I despise you and you loathe me. Do not call me Severus unless we're alone and even then take care that you won't be heard." He wanted to be positive that Harry understood. A slip up on his part would be disastrous.

"I know."

"Be careful what you write to your godfather and Lupin and do not refer to me specifically unless you are writing about me as your teacher."

"I know."

"Behave yourself. No fighting with anyone, not Draco, not any Slytherins, no one."

"I won't."

"No trouble this year, no fighting the Dark Lord, no escaped prisoners, no basilisks, no dementors–"

"Are you serious?" Harry asked in mock outrage. "No basilisks? But I'm always fighting basilisks. It's pretty much a sport for me now. When aren't I down in the chamber of secrets hanging out with–"

"I was being serious. I do not appreciate being mocked," Severus interrupted.

"Well, I didn't do any of that stuff on purpose," Harry huffed.

"Don't do it at all. If you get into trouble, if you suspect anything is amiss, come and find me or the headmaster or Professor McGonagall."

"All right," Harry conceded. "So I take it fighting with trolls is banned as well?" he asked, grinning.

Severus gave him a look that said quite clearly that he didn't consider any of it a joking matter.

"I'll be good," Harry insisted.

Severus could have sighed. It was impossible to believe it was all going to go smoothly this term, despite Harry's best intentions. He reached up to pull down the floo powder from the mantle but was forced to abort the movement as Harry abruptly threw his arms around Severus' middle. "Right. So, bye then," he declared, during what was possibly the briefest, most awkward hug he had ever been forced to endure, especially considering Harry followed it up by crossing his arms, along with a stubborn glare that quite clearly said 'Yeah, that was a hug. What of it?'

The child must have gone temporarily mad. What had possessed him? Harry remained unmoved, his stance clearly defensive. Severus cleared his throat. He shouldn't just leave things like this, but he couldn't bring himself to move or initiate any form of physical affection in return. He found himself in the altogether unusual situation of being rendered incapable of both movement and speech.

After a painfully long and awkward silence, Severus did the only thing he could and took down the dish of floo powder that was resting on the mantle.

---

It was only natural, in fact it was only right that Harry craved physical affection, Severus mused, watching Harry drag his trunk towards the entrance to King's Cross. He was not incognizant of the emotional needs of children and just because Harry had not received that level of affection from his relatives didn't mean he didn't need it at all. In fact, it may well be a step in the right direction for the child, and it was a good thing that Harry wanted parental affection and he should have it. He would have it if he had any say in the matter.

Severus stalked through the crowds of commuters and travellers surging towards the station to make his own way to Hogwarts for the start of term.

H.P.

"Hermione!" Harry called, spotting her instantly as he negotiated his way through the crowds of parents, trunks, owl cages and younger brothers and sisters that had no right being so short that it was that easy to trip over them.

"Harry! I was hoping we'd find you before we got on the train. How have you been?" 

"Same as really. Have the Weasleys gotten here yet?" Harry asked, craning his head to try and see around a large gaggle of Hufflepuffs.

"Yes, everyone's just a bit further up."

"Did you enjoy the rest of the summer?" Harry asked and hopped to the side to narrowly avoid walking straight into a Slytherin prefect's trunk.

"Oh, yes, definitely. I managed to get through our new textbooks just in time," Hermione replied, negotiating her way through the crowd with rather more grace than Harry possessed as he tried to keep Hedwig's cage from toppling off his trunk.

Harry shook his head. Surely that was what class was for? Why learn it all beforehand?

"Oh, I wanted to ask, you did manage to get hold of all your textbooks didn't you? I thought with the Dursleys that you might not have gotten the chance," Hermione asked, radiating honest concern.

"No, I've got them."

"Hey, Harry!" Ron yelled across the platform, earning a mild glare from Ginny who looked as if she'd very nearly been deafened. Harry laughed as he greeted the group and was instantly swooped down on by Mrs Weasley, asking everything from how he was to exclaiming that it was such a shame that he couldn't have stayed with them for the rest of the summer. He was reminded yet again to behave along with Ron, though in much kinder tones than Snape, of course.

Soon enough they were happily leaning out of their carriage window, waving as everyone became tiny blurs and the platform disappeared from sight completely. Harry couldn't help but collapse back onto his seat with a wide grin.

Ron settled down next to him, looking, if possible, even more content than Harry. "You have no idea how happy I am that Percy finished Hogwarts last year. I was gutted you had to back to the muggles but at least you missed out on Percy's lectures. You wouldn't believe it was possible for him to be even more of an arrogant, dull git."

Harry happily listened to Ron rant about Percy and then he was rapidly filled in on all the trouble the twins had gotten into and he'd missed out on. He was dying to tell them all about how there wasn't going to be quidditch this year and about the Triwizard Tournament. It was even worse when Ron said how Percy was still going on about some big secret to do with Hogwarts… He was itching to say something but he knew he shouldn't, well, he couldn't. It wasn't worth ruining everything with Snape, not now, and he wasn't about to risk getting banned from Hogsmeade for the sake of waiting a few hours.

"Hey, Harry, can I see your charms essay?" Ron said, waving his own under Harry's nose and distracting Harry from his thoughts.

"Look at Hermione's, it's going to be better than mine."

"He's not looking at mine. He had all summer to get it done."

"Snape's essay took longer than I thought it would," Ron said defensively.

"You still had plenty of time. It's your own fault you started your homework a week before we had to go back."

"It's not a holiday if you spend all summer working. Harry?"

"All right," Harry agreed and began rummaging through his trunk, ignoring the look of disapproval from Hermione.

"Whoa, you went all out with this. It's almost Hermione standard," Ron said, practically in awe as he read over it.

"No, it's not."

"It is good, Harry," Hermione said, sounding surprised but impressed as she read over Ron's shoulder.

"Did the Dursleys ease up on you doing your homework then?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, they, er, got warned off not letting me do it when I went back to stay with them."

"Oh, I suppose you had nothing better to do. Tough luck mate."

"Should I be offended that you guys think I can't write a decent essay?" Harry laughed.

"Nah, I'd like to think I could write a really good essay if I wanted to," Ron said with a grin as he started to scratch out a few more lines for his own essay.

"Then why don't you?" Hermione asked.

"I don't want to," he replied and Harry laughed.

---

 

"Honestly, it was beautiful this summer and I'd never been before but I'd obviously read about it before we arrived–"

"Read as many books as you want, Granger, it won't make you any less of a mudblood." Malfoy leaned against the carriage door, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron said, making to stand but Harry pulled him back into his seat.

"Leave it, Ron. It's fine," Hermione said. "I don't care what he thinks."

"Yeah, Weasley, take a leaf out of Potter's book. He's had plenty of practice sitting around and taking abuse from what I hear."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Hermione interjected. Harry balled his hands into fists. He knew this was coming; he could take it.

"I got to hear all about it," Malfoy continued delightedly. "You think you're some sort of big powerful wizard, some sort of hero, but you're worse than the mudblood and the blood traitor. Even the muggles are pushing you about."

"Get out, Malfoy–" Ron growled. Harry's nails were cutting into his palm.

"You're a joke of a wizard, Potter. You're weak and everyone's going to hear about it," Malfoy snarled contemptuously. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed beside him.

Ron made to stand again. "I'll give you some abuse to take, you little–"

Harry pulled out his wand, stepped in front of Ron, and pointed it squarely in Malfoy's face. "I stand up to who I want, when I want. Try me, Malfoy. You can't even walk in here without your bodyguards. Don't you talk to me about weakness."

"Put your wand down, Harry," Hermione hissed.

"What's going on in here then?" came Fred or George's jovial tone behind the three Slytherins. Harry held his wand steady but it seemed Malfoy and his cronies had the sense to know when they were outnumbered and slunk out. Malfoy stopped just long enough to treat Fred and George to a look of disgust.

"He's a nasty piece of work that one," George commented, scowling down the corridor at the retreating Slytherins, and they had no trouble guessing which one he meant.

"Yeah, don't we know it," Harry muttered.

"Onto brighter things then," Fred said cheerfully, dropping into the seat opposite Harry's.

"We had some things we wanted to show you, quality merchandise if you will…" George began and Harry was happily distracted from Malfoy and his threats.

S.S.

"Severus, my boy, do come in. Lemon sherbet?" To the man's credit he actually managed to look pleased about Severus' arrival. In light of this, he merely waved the offer away instead of greeting it with a caustic remark.

"Harry's scar's been causing him problems again," he stated, intending to get to the heart of the matter sooner rather than later.

"The episodes are worsening?"

"I don't think it was a regular episode. His condition was aggravated earlier that day, which I have surmised caused a stronger than usual reaction."

The headmaster nodded slowly from his seat behind the desk. "Aggravated in what way?"

"I was attempting to teach the child Occlumency and I inadvertently slipped past his defences. He was in agony. It was as if he was being tortured. I couldn't be sure if it was some sort of deliberate attack or if he was suffering from increased sensitivity."

"I see," he replied calmly, appearing deep in thought.

"I see?" Severus repeated disbelievingly. "That's all you have to say on the matter? I caused the child unbearable pain. I didn't think about his condition or the consequences. I was a thoroughly irresponsible guardian. Don't you have anything to say to that?" he demanded, aware that he was beginning to raise his voice.

"Severus–"

"I said I could protect him better than his relatives and I've failed already. I've proved you right, have I not?"

"If I may say so, you are being both ridiculous and melodramatic. I'm certain it wasn't your intention to cause Harry any pain." Severus scowled, mildly affronted at being referred to as ridiculous.

"Should I assume that you agree with my hypothesis?" he asked stiffly after a long moment of silence.

"I would say that your actions may have triggered something but if I'm to assume that you didn't attack Harry's mind with any force then it is curious. Harry's situation is quite singular. The only thing to do would be to continue to monitor him and any pain he experiences. Continuing the Occlumency now that you've begun may well be the only course of action that can definitively stop the episodes and protect his mind."

"Occlumency is the reason we're having this discussion. He's barely fourteen; he will not be able to make significant improvement. It would get far worse before it got better."

"We only assume that the Occlumency may have been a contributing factor. I am not saying that it is necessary to teach Harry anything at the moment. We shall see how he gets on before making any decisions."

"If you do not think it was the Occlumency, then what do you believe caused his pain?"

"It would not do to speculate until we have more information."

Severus tried to hold back his frustration. He was well aware that the headmaster was subtly trying to end the conversation but he was certain he was not being given all the information.

"But you have an idea?" he persisted.

"A great number of them, my boy."

Severus folded his arms across his chest. "We will discuss this again, headmaster."

"Certainly," Dumbledore replied with a grave nod. "Alastor will be arriving today to take up the defence against the Defence Against the Dark Arts position."

Severus scowled all the more darkly at this pronouncement. "I should be grateful to be able to walk the halls in peace while I can?"

"It will not hurt to have an ex-auror's presence in the school this year and we will of course be entertaining an ex-Death Eater."

"Igor's a coward. Lucius poses a greater threat and he walks these halls quite regularly," Severus replied. "I guarantee you Igor Karkaroff has no desire to see the Dark Lord return."

"But return he will and I fear it could be sooner rather than later."

---

 

Severus sat in his usual seat at the Head Table as the staff waited for the children to arrive. He tried in vain to ignore the chatter beside him as Sprout and Flitwick debated how the House Points would be affected this coming year with quidditch cancelled. Given that he knew that much of their discussion he realised he was doing a poor job of drowning out their mundane conversation. Besides, they were both highly mistaken in thinking that just because quidditch was cancelled that they stood a chance for the year's cup.

Moody, he noted, had yet to grace the school with his presence, but that could only be considered a blessing. The man was by now likely to be raving mad, his paranoia only escalating with age. He'd heard he'd set fire to his own wooden leg because he was convinced someone had managed to curse it.

The headmaster looked unusually preoccupied, more than likely wondering if Moody was sane enough to have changed his mind about taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. Unlikely.

Severus broke out of his thoughts as the doors to the great hall opened and the students began to file in. He didn't look out for a messy head of hair or the shock of red he knew would be beside it, focussing instead on seeing his Slytherins settle down on their table. He cast a dark look at any other student who happened to catch his eye as he scanned the far side of the room. Moody still hadn't appeared along with the students, not that even he'd arrive in the same style as Lupin… Taking the train with the children, the man had no dignity.

Without conscious thought his eyes landed on the Gryffindor table. Harry wasn't hard to spot, sitting amongst a gaggle of Weasleys and chatting exuberantly. It reminded him forcefully of seeing James Potter amongst his peers sitting at that very table. The differences from this distance were subtle but he found himself wondering how he could have missed them. James would undoubtedly be found in the centre, breakfast, lunch and dinner without fail. He would be the loudest of the lot, often turning his head to glance the length of the table to see who had heard his joke or who was paying him attention. Harry was doing no such thing. He was quite happy sitting and talking to his friends.

As if he knew he was being watched, Harry turned to the Head Table and Snape met his eyes with what he knew would be a look of loathing, which Harry, to his credit, returned with a passable glare of his own.

Minerva made her way into the hall leading the first years and Severus watched the sorting intently, trying to see which of them he recognised from the pureblood families and which seemed likely to go into Slytherin. He had a knack for guessing which house the first years would be sorted into, although he wouldn't have guessed bumbling Longbottom to be anything but a Hufflepuff from the moment he'd laid eyes on him.

H.P.

Harry watched Severus intently, though this time it was probably all right because Hermione had pointed out that he looked positively furious. It seemed that the appearance of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher could cause the same look of hatred that Harry used to inspire. He didn't have long to think about it as Dumbledore made his quick introductions and continued with his speech. One of Professor Moody's eyes was roving the hall independently of the other and the man looked grizzled and worn.

"Mad-eye Moody," one of the twins murmured at him. "Used to be an auror, gone a bit barmy now."

Harry looked back at Snape and his expression had calmed somewhat. He wondered why Snape never mentioned who was going to be the next Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher if he hated the man so much. He wasn't exactly one to keep his criticisms to himself. If Remus were to stroll in right now and announce that he'd be taking back his job Severus would probably be in a better mood.

The whizzing electric blue eye stopped with Gryffindor table in its sights and Harry looked away. 

He held back his grin of relief when Dumbledore announced the Triwizard Tournament and he found himself having no trouble at all exclaiming with disappointment that quidditch would be cancelled. Finally, at least one secret was off his shoulders.

"–age line's really unfair!" Ron exclaimed, waving a spoonful of mash in his excitement. Harry grinned as Hermione pulled stray potato out of her hair. The twins looked even more disappointed at the news than Ron.

"People have died in this competition. They can hardly let any student take part. What if it was a third year against a seventh year," Hermione disagreed.

"The goblet wouldn't pick a third year over a seventh year unless they actually were more capable and then it wouldn't matter who they were against from the other schools," Harry interjected.

"Of course it would. They would've had four years less magical education."

"Yeah, but what I'm saying is that it wouldn't matter because the goblet would pick the best man– or woman," he amended hastily, "for the job."

"Exactly! We've done loads of dangerous stuff; we could handle this tournament. And we'd get a thousand galleons," Ron said wistfully.

"Maybe when we're a bit older you can put your name in," Hermione replied, with a slight smile in Ron's direction.

"You would, wouldn't you, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry replied with a shrug. Ron was right, they could handle all that dangerous stuff. They'd probably done far worse than what they could cook up for this competition. He couldn't imagine swarms of dementors being allowed to chase the champions around the school grounds. Entering dangerous competitions was probably on Snape's list of banned activities, though.

"Harry loves a bit of danger. Future school champion you are," Dean said, leaning around Ron and whacking Harry hard on the back.

---

 

Tuesday afternoon came too quickly but Harry mentally prepared himself for his first potions lesson as best he could. He knew Snape was going to be horrible to him and he could handle it. He wasn't going to get angry and he wasn't going to lose house points either. It wasn't real so it didn't matter what Snape said. 

In fact, he was far more preoccupied about what Malfoy would say. It would be the first time since the train that he'd been in the same room as him and he would be foolish if he thought that Malfoy was bluffing about spreading rumours about him. He hadn't heard anything yet but it had only been a couple of days, no time at all.

He shook his head. He wasn't going to sit in potions worried that Malfoy was going to start badmouthing him and the smarmy little git could go to hell if he tried to tamper with his potions again this year. He wouldn't stand for that. He wasn't weak and he wasn't going to let Malfoy get one over on him, no matter what he'd promised Snape.

Thankfully, they didn't arrive too early. Harry had dawdled, not wanting to give Malfoy an opportunity to start before class had even begun. That should appease Snape; that probably counted as avoiding a fight at least. Part of him hoped that Snape's presence might deter Malfoy from saying anything during class but that was probably wishful thinking... Remembering what Snape used to be like, he'd more than likely join in.

He slid into his favourite seat in the potions classroom, hidden right in the back corner where Snape would have to go out of his way to get at him, which he did or had done on many occasions.

"Homework," Snape demanded from the front of the classroom, his voice impatient and laced with disdain. There was an immediate shuffling and scrabbling in bags as everyone pulled out their essays at once. Harry smoothed his out, safe in the knowledge that Snape had already seen his (at least three drafts of it!). Snape nodded approvingly at the scrolls handed in by the Slytherins, going as far as a 'well done, Mr Malfoy' that had Harry scowling and Malfoy preening.

Snape stopped dead in front of Harry's desk and he held his breath, preparing himself for a barrage of insults, but today it seemed that Snape's ire wasn't going to be directed at him.

"Is your eyesight failing you, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked coldly and the Slytherins turned in their seats to get a better view.

"No, sir," Ron said.

"Then you have suffered some sort of injury to your hands?"

"No, sir."

"Then I believe that you must have given in someone else's homework. The author of this mess is severely lacking any mental capacity if they believe that making their writing an illegible two inch scrawl is any replacement for a reasonably well written essay. Would you agree?" he asked as if anyone would dare not to.

"Uhh."

Snape appeared to read the parchment for a moment before announcing darkly. "It doesn't appear to say Longbottom at the top and I doubt there is anyone else in this room that can match his level of ignorance. So whose work this is, Mr Weasley?" This was met by sniggers from the Slytherin side of the room and Neville blushed furiously, looking terrified. Harry felt his blood boil. It was one thing yelling at Neville when he blew up his cauldron but this wasn't on. It wasn't even his essay.

"It's mine. Sir," Ron muttered.

"So we can all hear you, Weasley."

"It's mine, sir."

"The assignment was two feet. Surely even you should be able to gather up what few brain cells you possess to write an essay you were given two months to complete! Ten points from Gryffindor for appalling homework."

Harry gritted his teeth, aware that he was furious and Snape hadn't even said a word to him yet. Snape moved on to sneer down at him, before implying that Harry must have copied his from Hermione because he'd noticed that he'd used three syllable words, a feat which Snape assured him he was incapable of given his level of intellect. Harry stared mutely ahead, replying shortly when it seemed necessary.

Ron muttered next to him about evil gits and shoved his essay roughly back into his school bag. "You all right, mate?" he whispered and Harry blinked quickly.

"Yeah, just annoyed. Sorry about your essay."

"S'all right, I think even Hermione might take pity on me after that."

"What was the last instruction I gave, Potter?" Snape asked, interrupting his conversation with Ron. Harry scanned the room desperately looking for inspiration and Neville tapped lightly on the book open in front of him.

"To, uh, open the textbook," Harry replied.

"Five points from Gryffindor for failing to listen to instructions." Harry almost tutted. If he was going to take points anyway, why ask?

It seemed that things were beginning to look up once the actual brewing began. Harry was free to speak to Ron and Hermione and they were far away enough that Snape wasn't able to have them in his attentions at all times.

Suddenly, laughter rang out from across the room where Malfoy was holding court. Loud enough so that over the quieter chatter and simmering of cauldrons his voice rang out clear and sharp. "Writing a halfway decent essay is probably a cry for help coming from Potter. He's so beaten down by those muggles he's trying to impress Professor Snape."

Harry stood up so fast he knocked the cauldron, causing it to wobble precariously, saved only by Ron's quick reflexes but not before half of their potion spilt over the floor.

"POTTER! Sit down."

Harry sent Malfoy a furious glare and balled the hand that had gone for his wand into a fist by side, thumping heavily back into his seat.

"Get back to work, now," Severus ordered the room at large, glancing around angrily at all the students who were watching both Harry and Malfoy in turn.

S.S.

"You're dismissed," Severus announced finally and Harry began stuffing his quill and parchment back into his bag with ferocious speed. "Not you, Potter."

Harry's face was still set in the angry sulk that he'd settled into throughout the entirety of the lesson, even as the door shut behind the last Gryffindor. "You have a mess to clear up," he said, indicating the stain on the floor before going to sit behind his desk.

Harry looked even angrier at this pronouncement but went to fetch a cloth and cleaned up the spilt potion regardless. "May I go now, Professor?" he asked stiffly, staring ahead and refusing to meet Severus' eyes.

"No. I want a word, Harry."

"No. Can I go, Professor?"

No? Did he just say no? Severus' eyebrows rose in surprise. There was quite a difference from the cheerful boy he'd taken to King's Cross barely two days ago. How easy it was to slip back into the old roles…

"Stop sulking. This is utterly ridiculous. I warned you that nothing would change."

"I know you have to be horrible to me! You were horrible to Neville and you were horrible to Ron and Hermione's essay was better than all the Slytherins' and you didn't say anything."

"You've only just realised that I'm not fair? How many times do I have to say it? I will treat this class in the same manner as I have always treated this class."

"What have you got against Neville anyway? He's no worse than Crabbe and Goyle and at least he writes decent essays. I could see theirs from where I was sitting and they looked like they'd been written in chalk."

"My dislike of Longbottom is irrelevant. Regardless of how you feel about my behaviour it cannot change. How I treat students in my classes is not up for discussion."

"But you don't want to be nicer to Neville or the other Gryffindors. You wouldn't stop even if you could. You're horrible to him and he's only so rubbish at potions because you're intimidating and you put him down all the time."

"This conversation is pointless and I will not sit here while you work yourself up over every last point Gryffindor has ever lost in my classroom. I have no desire to sort out another of your adolescent tantrums."

"You said you wanted to talk."

He did indeed. He got to the point rather than give Harry another opportunity to work himself up further. "I'm aware that Draco is goading you. Control yourself. You will do yourself no favours by losing your temper with him."

"So he says what he wants and I have to sit back and take it?" Harry replied, his face mirroring the disgust he must have felt at the idea.

"That is not at all what I'm saying. I am warning you not to lose your temper with him, to be careful what you react to in anger. How much do you want him to know about your home life? About what upsets you? When you lose control you show more than you realise. I'm not forbidding you from defending yourself."

"Can I go now?" Harry asked yet again and Severus acquiesced with a nod.

"Behave yourself," he called out as Harry wasted no time in scooping up his bag and heading for the door.

H.P.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked as Harry jogged up the dungeon corridor to catch up with her and Ron.

"Yeah."

"Snape's a right git. I'd only written the conclusion a bit bigger because I didn't have anything else to write. It wasn't that bad!" Ron exclaimed.

"Why don't we nip out for a bit of a walk before dinner?" Hermione suggested and Harry nodded his agreement. He could definitely do with a bit of air.

S.S.

It was hard to tell whether Harry was still sulking a week later or whether this was how he intended to act to show that he hated his evil potions professor. Severus was certain that it was the former and was reasonably content. After all, the boy could certainly use a bit of distance to gain perspective. Severus wasn't who he needed to become attached to. It was unhealthy for a child to want parental affection from a man who had no ability to give any such thing. He could continue in his sulk, write about his frustrations to the wolf and the mangy dog and he'd have the support he needed.

The dog was forever doling out hugs to the boy whenever he laid eyes on him and Lupin fancied himself as more skilled with Harry than your average busybody.

Severus would continue to mentor and provide for the child and Harry could spend more time with Lupin and Black over Christmas. Then he would be provided with the care that Lily would never have wished be denied to him.

"What do you want?" Severus demanded roughly, almost colliding into Moody as he exited his own office, still very much lost in thought.

"Just getting the lay of the land, Snape. Dumbledore asked me to have a look around, keep an eye on things, the dungeons is particular."

"He did no such thing," Severus hissed.

"You sure about that? You've betrayed one master, why would he expect you to be faithful to him?"

"It's none of your concern. Stay away from my office, Moody."

"Your old chum is coming and I'll be keeping a close eye on the both of you," Moody snarled, turning to stump back up the corridor. Severus could feel his magical eye still fixed on him even as Moody walked away.

---

 

Severus threw down his quill irritably and stared down at his forearm. It was the third time he'd caught himself glaring down at the mark since his latest exchange with Moody. Why the headmaster had to employ Mad-Eye Moody of all people… Had Severus not done enough to prove he could protect Harry? He'd saved his life more than once on these school grounds.

He sighed wearily, pulling his sleeve back down to cover the mark. It wasn't that it felt different. Perhaps it was just the light but it looked a touch darker.

It didn't bode well, but whether or not he was imagining things the mark would come back. Yet another reason he should not allow the child to become too attached to him.

H.P.

Snape hadn't called him back after class since the previous week and Harry wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. How could Snape be such a hypocrite to treat the students the way he does when he knows what it's like to be bullied? But then, Snape was horrible, he knew that.

It was if over the course of the summer he'd imagined that Snape hadn't just realised that he didn't mind Harry but had somehow become a nicer person. But he hadn't, he just sort of tolerated him now and carried on hating everyone else exactly the same!

Yet… He wanted to talk to Snape anyway. He knew he was right about not being able to change how he acted in class and after more than a week of seeing Snape as his hated potions teacher he just wanted to see him as his guardian again.

He hung back at the end of potions the next day, deliberately dawdling as he cleaned up his potions area. Snape seemed in a relatively good mood, though Harry was beginning to realise that Snape was pretty much in a continuous bad mood when he was teaching, the kind of bad mood he'd be in if Harry had mouthed off at him earlier in the day or wouldn't answer his questions. Ron sent Harry a quizzical look and Harry glanced quickly at Snape who merely asked curtly whether the pair of them had a lesson to get to.

Harry scowled and picked up his bag. He couldn't have made it any more obvious that he wanted to talk to him. It's not like the man couldn't take a hint.

"What was that?" Ron asked as they headed out of the dungeons for the trek to divination.

"Wanted to give Malfoy a head start," he lied, thinking quickly. "Don't want to lose Gryffindor any more points by punching the smarmy little–" Harry searched for a word that wouldn't get him told off as Flitwick bustled quickly past. "Twit."

Not that avoiding Malfoy would solve the problem completely. Whatever Harry did there seemed to be a Slytherin nearby with something to say. "Better be a good boy, Potter, wouldn't want the muggles teaching you a lesson would we?"

It was humiliating. It was worse than when everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin. At least he was just dealing with people hating him for something he hadn't done. Now though, people were mocking him for something that was true and interspersed with the Slytherins' gleeful faces was some pitying Hufflepuff or compassionate Gryffindor. He didn't need that and he certainly didn't want it.

Sirius had been consoling in his replies to Harry's letters. He told him constantly to keep out of trouble and not to let it all get him down. It wasn't actually much help but he supposed there wasn't actually anything Sirius could do and it was nice that he cared. Harry had written to Remus as well but he supposed he'd been too busy to send a reply yet.

Things deteriorated during divination, which he'd naively thought would be safe as a Slytherin-free zone. Somehow over the last week the rumours must have been able to reach Trelawney because she predicting his tragic demise and dressing it up as the final chapter to what sounded like the most thoroughly depressing life ever led. Aside from people commenting on it, his life was fine thank you very much!

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it shows me getting squished, why else would I be that shape?" Harry asked loudly, peering down into his cup of tea leaves. "What do you think, Ron?"

"I don't think that's you, mate. It looks like my aquatic accident from last week. I don't think these have been washed," he declared, putting the cup down as far away as possible.

---

 

Harry threw on his invisibility cloak. It wasn't actually past curfew but Snape had said to be discreet and there would be no reason for him to be hanging out in the dungeons of an evening.

He dodged and weaved his way through students gathered on the stairs and in the narrow corridors until he reached Snape's study where the tiny dot on the Marauders' Map said he was. It was actually a relief to be able to walk around the school without some Slytherin cackling at him like his childhood was the funniest joke they'd ever heard and Harry waited a moment before knocking on Snape's door, revelling in being hidden and unreachable in Slytherin territory.

He knocked on the door nervously, then immediately felt foolish. He wasn't scared of Snape, not the version he'd come to talk to anyway. Professor Snape bordered on terrifying. There were many times when he'd knocked at this door feeling a mixture of dread at the prospect of an evening with Snape and what he'd have in store for detention and hatred for the man in question. Now, to be seeking him out himself, slightly miffed that he hadn't gotten to speak to him sooner, was an odd feeling.

He pushed the door open after a brief call to enter and saw Snape sitting at his desk looking mildly surprised to see him there.

"Hi, sir." Snape waved his wand and the door snapped shut behind him.

"Are you unwell?"

"No."

"You're not experiencing any pain in your scar?"

"No, I'm not here because of my scar."

Snape indicated that he could sit on the other side of the desk and Harry felt a bit awkward, as if he was in trouble.

"Do you intend to enlighten me as to why you're here?" Snape asked, putting his quill and a fairly substantial stack of parchment to the side and Harry realised that he'd disturbed him in the middle of marking.

"I just wanted to talk about stuff. Should I come back later?"

"Don't be ridiculous. if you need to speak to me now, then speak."

"It's not urgent–"

Harry cut himself off at the look Snape gave him that quite plainly said 'then what are you doing here?'

"Can't I just come back when you're not working?"

"I wouldn't be in my office if I wasn't working, Harry," Snape replied impatiently.

"Can't I come to your quarters then?"

"That is certainly not a good idea."

Harry didn't know what to say to that but figured a reply was expected and manage to dredge up an 'Oh'.

Snape took a great breath as if Harry was a chore that he'd like to deal with as quickly as possible. "I'm aware that you are having a difficult time with the rumours that Draco has been spreading. If you would like to discuss your relatives my door is always open. If you feel more comfortable discussing things with your godfather and Lupin then the choice is yours. It need not be me who you talk to."

"I'd rather it was you," Harry replied, feeling like an idiot. Yep, he'd rather talk to Snape, who'd rather not talk to him. "Did you ask Dumbledore about carrying on with Occlumency?"

"He agrees that there is no need to press on with Occlumency."

"Did you tell him that I wanted to?" Harry asked.

"What you want doesn't come into it. It is not necessary and it is not happening," Snape snapped.

Harry didn't understand why Snape was being so odd but he could take a hint. Snape didn't want him there so he'd leave. There was no point forcing his presence where he wasn't wanted. "All right then. I'll just go; I've got homework," Harry said lamely.

"You're writing to your godfather and Lupin?"

"Yes."

The only thing was that Lupin wasn't replying to him and he couldn't tell Sirius everything, could he? Dear Sirius, Snape's trying to fob me off onto you and Remus, please help… Probably wouldn't go down well.

Maybe Snape was just busy. He'd come back another day to talk to him. Maybe Snape was annoyed that he hadn't started talking about the Dursleys yet… He could try to ask Remus but then he should probably wait for him to reply to his first letter before hounding him with any more.

S.S.

That had been a painful conversation. But what was best for Harry, in the majority of instances, was not necessarily what he wanted. Surely that was a part of being a good guardian, making difficult decisions.