It was Tuesday evening, and the day had gone very normally. Harry had done well at Potions and Herbology, as always, and Severus was pleased with his progress. Harry was doing everything in his power to please him, almost too much. It unnerved Severus just how much Harry tried to earn his approval. Somehow, Severus thought that Harry would do literally anything. If he asked Harry to join the Dark Lord for real, he wouldn't hesitate. Anything for the attention and approval that he had been denied for ten years.

Perhaps this was just the thing Dumbledore had hoped to instill in him. No, it definitely was. This desire for approval from a superior would have worked out perfectly into Dumbledore's scheming. Undoubtedly, Harry would have done anything, faced any and every danger, just to earn his - Dumbledore's - approval. And with his own disregard for his own worth, Severus definitely could see Harry doing just this. What would it matter if Harry risked his life? If Harry was as unconcerned about it as Severus feared, then risking it was small stakes if he could save anyone else, be it one individual or the world. Harry definitely would have been a prime candidate for Gryffindor, Severus realized. No wonder the hat had wanted to put him there. At the same time, Harry was not mis-sorted by being put in Slytherin either. He definitely had Slytherin traits.

A knock at the door brought Severus out of his reverie.

"That would be Neville," Severus said, getting up, much like he had done with Hermione the night previous, and opening the door, with Harry watching from the sidelines. Harry was much more confident - if that was an accurate word - around another boy. At least after some assurances.

.oO-Oo.

It was supper time, and Severus had just broached the subject of Neville Longbottom's visit that night.

"Neville Longbottom will be visiting tonight," Severus said. "Is that acceptable with you?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"He's a Hufflepuff first year," Severus continued.

"So he's a boy," Harry said. Severus had to bite back a comment about Harry's acutely observant nature. He didn't want Harry to think he couldn't make a comment, because of an ill placed sarcastic remark. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing after all. He could tell when a comment would do more harm than he was willing to inflict over a point. "How...big...is he?" Harry then asked.

"If you're thinking about your cousin," Severus began, his eyes narrowing slightly, "then nothing like him. Neville is a very kind and quiet boy, clumsy in potions sometimes, but nothing like your cousin at all. Do not even begin to worry about that."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied. He bit his lower lip thoughtfully, and began quietly fidgeting.

"Oh, tell me what's wrong now," Severus sighed. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear about Harry's fears. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was just that he found it frustrating to try to help Harry when Harry did so little to let him help. It wasn't like Harry voiced his fears or concerns. No, he waited until they were spilling over before anything could be done about them. What other fears did Harry manage to hide from him? What hadn't he guessed yet? Severus almost didn't want to know.

"Well," Harry began, and he seemed to almost choke on the next thought. After a deep inhalation, he continued, "What if - well, what if Neville, you know -" And then Harry's voice had failed him. He dropped his eyes and shrugged. "It's nothing," he muttered.

"No," Severus contracted, sternly, but not harshly, "it's not 'nothing.' Explain to me what you're thinking." Harry's mouth opened and closed systematically, in shock, at the direct statement, Severus supposed. After a moment, Harry seemed to collect himself.

"Well, Neville won't like me," Harry stated. "And then I won't know what to do. And what if Draco finds out?" There was a pregnant pause. "Or Hermione? What if Neville tells them something and then they don't like me either?"

"And what would he tell them that they wouldn't like you about? Why wouldn't he like you?" There were clear signs of distress written over all of Harry's body language. Finally he stood bolt upright and moved so there there was the chair between himself and Severus. Gripping the chair so firmly that his knuckles showed white, he hitched a breath before continuing to speak.

"I don't know anything about how to be friends with someone!" Harry sobbed, sounding desperate, more desperate than Severus would ever have wanted to see anyone behave. "And what if they find out about...about..." Harry's eyes began to fill with tears. "They'd hate me, and find someone else to be friends with. I'm no good at being friends with anyone." His voice was nothing but a sullen mutter at the end. Severus wanted to tell him that Draco knew, and still liked Harry, but he also knew that Harry would see that as something of a betrayal right now, and that was the last thing he needed.

"I can promise you, Harry," he began instead, "that you will do just fine, and that they won't hate you. Even if you told them about your abuse. They would understand, or at least they'd try. I'm sure you're going to be one of the best friends a person could hope for." Harry was still shaking with the distress of the situation.

"What do you mean, sir?" Harry whispered.

"You will be loyal until the end," Severus replied calmly. "Once you've made a commitment to a friend, you would never turn your back on said individual. There's a value in that, even if you might not know all the niceties of society. It's a better friend who can be unwittingly be rude but will be there for you when someone goes wrong than one who can play an act of politeness in front of you and leaves at the moment of need."

"Yes, sir," Harry murmured.

"Everything will be fine. Neville is shy and I am sure he's almost as nervous about meeting you as you are of meeting him."

"Really, sir?" Harry asked, perking up a bit.

"Yes, and he's also deathly afraid of me," Severus continued. "If he will come to my chambers despite his fear, to meet you, despite his shyness, I think you can give him a little faith that he really will like you."

"Yes, sir." And Harry smiled at him.

.oO-Oo.

"Hello, Professor," Neville said, playing with the cuff of his robes.

"Good evening, Mr. Longbottom," the Professor replied. Neville stepped in, keeping a wary eye on Professor Snape and adjusting the shoulder strap on the bag he was carrying. Then he glanced over at Harry. Neville gave him a quick, weak smile.

"Hi, Harry," he said, and held his hand out. This time, Harry knew what to do with it, and shook Neville's hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Hi, Neville," Harry responded. The boy was much bigger than he was, but smaller than Dudley had been. And then the Professor had promised that Neville was kind. So at some level, Harry knew he shouldn't be so intimidated, but he still was. Then Neville reached in his bag and pulled out a box.

"Hey, I brought a checker game," Neville said. "I thought - well, it's a Muggle game, and I thought maybe it was something you knew how to play." Neville seemed just as unsure of himself as Harry felt, but Harry didn't know how to explain that he didn't know how to play checkers. Harry looked up at Professor Snape, hoping that he would provide an explanation on his behalf. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Longbottom," he said, instead, "and come get me in my office if there is any reason." With a quick look at Harry, Professor Snape left him to sort out the situation on his own.

.oO-Oo.

It wasn't that Severus wanted to make Harry uncomfortable with his new acquaintance, but it was the most controlled environment Severus could think of for Harry to begin associating with others. He, Severus, was nearby, in case anything got too out of hand, it was a one on one meeting, in a quiet and familiar environment. Harry needed to get used to dealing with others by himself, and this was the best way, much as Severus wanted to intervene and spare Harry the upset.

So he sat down at his desk, as he had the night before, with the door slightly open, to do more grading and correcting on the potions work which had turned into him that day.

.oO-Oo.

"So," Neville said nervously, "you want to play?"

"I - " Harry began, and then his voice just stopped working. So he took a deep breath and tried again. "No, not really," Harry finally spit out.

"Oh," Neville said, sounding disappointed, and dropping his gaze. "Sorry, I just thought it would be something you might like to play."

"It's fine," Harry said, beginning to hyperventilate.

"Breathe, Harry," Neville said, noticing Harry's lack of exhalation. At the prompt, Harry let out his breath slowly.

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Neville shrugged. "I do it all the time when I get nervous. My grandma just tells me to breathe, and then I get better."

"Your grandma?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, my dad's mom," Neville said. "I live with her. And when I get nervous here, when she's not around, I just imagine her telling me to breath."

"And it works?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Neville responded. He sat down on the floor with his back to the couch, with his knees pulled up. Harry looked unsure for a moment, but then Neville patted the spot to his left, he sat down next to Neville. They were quiet a moment, both feeling a bit awkward.

"You hyperventilate a lot?" Neville asked, desperately searching for a topic of conversation. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "Do you?"

"I guess," Neville said. They were quiet again, as Neville tried to think of something to say. "Um - so, what do you like to do?"

"Like to do?" Harry parroted.

"Yeah, like what kind of hobbies to you have? What do you do in your spare time?"

"Um..." Harry stammered. "Hobbies?" He was stalling for time, hoping to think of an acceptable answer before Neville got annoyed with him.

"Yeah, like, well - " And then it was Neville's turn to stammer. "Like things you do and they take some skill sometimes. Like bird watching."

"Wizards watch birds?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow, not unlike a certain professor.

"Lots of wizards do," Neville said with a shrug.

"What do they do when they watch the birds?"

"My grandma takes me with her when she goes bird watching, and she tells me all about each bird, how the make their nests, and how to tell their calls apart."

"That sounds boring," Harry commented, glad that they were no longer talking about his hobbies, or lack thereof.

"It is," Neville said. "It's really boring."

"At least you don't get left behind though," Harry pointed out.

"Pfft," Neville scoffed. "I'd rather get left behind." Harry swallowed nervously as he stared at Neville, his mind blank. "What are you staring at?" Neville asked, not unkindly. "Do I have something on me?" He began to inspect himself, and found nothing.

"No," Harry said. "Why would you rather be left behind?" Harry's voice betrayed the pure shock and wonder at Neville's comment.

"Oh, well, I could work on these airplane models that I have. They're Muggle toys, but they're fun to glue together. Do you ever glue model planes together?"

"...no," Harry said. "I never did that."

"Wouldn't you rather be left behind if your family was going bird watching? Even you thought it sounded boring." Harry shrugged, and looked at the fire, unable to meet Neville's curios gaze.

"I guess..." Harry began. "They never took me bird watching, when they'd go," Harry murmured. "And I hated being alone." He left out the part about being locked in the cupboard with a limited water supply until they returned. If he was lucky, they'd give him a little food to tide him over as well.

"Then what'd you do?" Neville asked, still curious. "It's not like you're old enough to be left alone. There's laws against that! That's why I have to go with my grandma." Harry just shrugged, not trusting his voice to even make up an answer as he felt a block in his throat at memories that were replaying in his mind.

Harry pulled his knees up close and wrapped his arms around them. His eyes had a glassy look to them as he stared into the fire. It wasn't that he liked being around what he saw as his family. It was that the alternative was so much worse. Being locked in a cupboard for a week at a time, with rationed amounts of food and water, with nothing to do, and the air having gone stale quickly, was a horrible situation even when faced with beatings when they were around. Harry had no way to tell the passage of time in the cupboard either. Locked in his cupboard, with everyone gone, the silence had been deafening. He had done anything to just get a little noise, as long as he knew no one would be there to hear it.

Once, he had tried to claw his way out of the cupboard. He drank his water too fast, and had run out. Not knowing how long a human could live without water, out of desperation and fear of death, he had scratched and worked at the lock on the door. Nothing had come of it, except a beating once his aunt and uncle had returned the next day and seen the damage. No amount of explanation or apology had lessened their anger.

"Harry!" Suddenly, he was torn from his memories as Neville grabbed him by the shoulder, still sitting next to him, and began to shake him gently. "Are you alright?" Neville sounded genuinely concerned. Harry shuttered once, and winced at the question.

"Yeah, sorry," Harry muttered.

"What happened? I was trying to talk to you and you just...weren't hearing me."

"Sorry," Harry apologized louder. "It happens every so often. I was just thinking."

"What about?" Even Neville knew he was treading on sensitive territory. He could read people emotionally. It was a skill he quickly picked up on living in the Hufflepuff dorms, even for just a week.

"Just..." Harry fumbled, "just stuff." Harry tried to nod and smile to add believability to his answer. It sounded weak and pathetic in his own ears, so how must it sound in Neville's?

"Oh," Neville said. "You don't want to talk about it?"

"No," Harry said decisively. He most certainly did not want to talk about it to anyone. If he had to, it was going to be to Professor Snape and that was it.

"Alright," Neville agreed. "I don't know what you were thinking about, Harry, but if you ever want to talk about it, well..." Neville's voice began getting quieter and he finished with a shrug.

"I won't," Harry stated simply.

"But if you do," Neville pressed, "I'll listen."

"Okay," Harry said, and smiled a little. "Thanks."

"No problem." And Neville smiled back. "So what do you want to do?"

"Um..." Harry searched his mind for an idea. "Exploding Snap?" he finally suggested. After all, it was the only game he knew how to play.

"Okay," Neville agreed. "Do you have a deck? I didn't bring any."

"Nitty has one," Harry said. "Nitty?" he asked to the air. And Nitty popped into the room. Harry jumped, even though he was expecting her. "Could we borrow your Exploding Snap deck, please?" Harry asked.

"Sure, Master Harry," Nitty agreed, and in a moment had popped back with her deck. Neville and Harry spent the rest of the evening playing Exploding Snap, which had quickly become Harry's safety zone - his protection - when trying to associate with anyone.

.oO-Oo.

It had been a long evening for Harry with Neville. Neville had come very close to some very sensitive issues. He had come close to finding out what a freak he was. Too close. Harry tried not to shiver at the thought, as he lay in bed, curled in on himself.

It had occurred to Harry to ask why Neville wasn't living with his parents, but Harry didn't want to cause any potential bad memories for Neville. What if Neville's parents had not wanted Neville? Or if somehow he had been taken from them? Or if they had been horrible to him?

You mean like the Dursleys were horrible to you? a little voice in his head whispered.

But Neville's different, he argued back. Neville's not like me.

.oO-Oo.

"Draco will be by tonight," Severus said. He was relieved to see a small smile creep onto Harry's face, rather than the usual fear and hesitation when he would announce that a stranger would be visiting. "I take it you're glad he is?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, blushing a bit.

"Well, it's all Draco has been able to speak about with me," he said. "So I think he's glad he's coming too." Harry just blushed deeper.

After supper, there was the expected knock at the door.

"That would be Draco," Severus said, getting up and answering the door. Harry came behind him, a bit more confident than the past two nights. After all, Draco wasn't a stranger. He knew a bit of what to expect from him.

"Hi, Draco," Harry said, as soon as they made eye-contact.

"Hi, Harry!" Draco greeted him in return, and gave him a huge smile.

"Do step in, Draco," Severus said, closing the door behind him. "Behave yourselves, and come to get me if you need me. Draco, you know your way around my chambers - heaven knows you've been here enough - so make yourself at home."

For the third time that week, Severus left Harry to his own devices. This time, though, he was sure that Harry would do well. Draco knew what he was dealing with, and Severus trusted Draco. Maybe not as Harry's moral adviser, but he trusted Draco to handle Harry with basic tact and not let the situation get out of hand. He trusted Draco to be dominant enough in the friendship to always lead Harry but not forceful enough to make Harry feel uncomfortable.

He had heard the conversation Harry and Neville had had the night before. It had unnerved him, Neville's crying out Harry's name with no response, and he had gone to the doorway - unseen by Neville or Harry, of course - and assessed the situation. He knew Harry was locked in some awful memory. If he had been alone with Harry at the time, he would have addressed it with Harry. But as it was, he didn't want to bring it up that he had overheard what had transpired. Severus would have preferred that if Neville was going to ask sensitive questions that he make Harry answer them - or simply not ask the questions at all. It set a bad precedent, in Severus' mind, but that was the way of a Hufflepuff. They wore their hearts on the sleeves, and were willing to talk about anything with anyone. He suspected that that was Neville's confusion about Harry's lack of conversation on the matter. But Neville hadn't been totally without tact in that conversation either, and Severus had let it go. If everything was going to be the way he preferred, he had better do all the work. So he was going to have to put up with things being handled differently than he would handle them.

.oO-Oo.

"I have some Every-Flavor-Beans for you, Harry!" Draco sang out as soon as Professor Snape had left the room. Draco rummaged around in his bag, and pulled out a paper box. "I got them on the train for you."

"Thank you," Harry said, smiling a bit, as he hesitantly reached for the box being held out to him.

"They literally come in every flavor," Draco was quick to explain. "Sometimes they're awful flavors, but most of them are good. And it's always funny to get one that tastes bad, you know, trying to identify what it is."

"Sure," Harry said, grinning wider.

"And!" Draco said, dramatically looking back into his bag, "I also brought some of these! Chocolate frogs!" Harry gasped as Draco thrust the box of chocolate frogs into his hands as well. "They're spelled to move around, and they come with cards. They have pictures and facts about famous wizards on them."

"Wow," Harry breathed, too lost for words.

"You can eat the chocolate and learn about the wizards in one sitting," Draco pointed out. "Not a bad proposition, really. Those cards have taught me more about wizards history than my history books ever did."

"Really?" Harry said, as Draco walked over to the couch and sat down. Harry looked dismayed for a moment.

"Yep, really," Draco said. "C'mon, sit down." Harry did so, as Draco continued. "You know, there aren't any wizarding primary schools really - well, maybe you didn't know that - but there aren't, and so some wizard families use the Muggle primary schools, but others just teach their kids at home for the primary school years."

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

"My parents taught me at home," Draco said. "That way I could learn about wizards and stuff. And anyway, when I'd take a history test or something, there'd sometimes be questions about people I didn't remember studying, but the answers would be on the cards, and I'd study them and get the answers right that way."

"Were you allowed to have the cards with you?"

"Oh, no," Draco said. "That would have been cheating. I have to remember the stuff, but no one cares where you learn it as long as you learn it."

"Oh, okay," Harry said.

"You want to open the beans?" Draco prompted.

"Alright," Harry said, opening up the paper box. He looked, and it was filled with little bits of candy. They looked like the jelly beans Dudley used to get from the sweet shop, only these had more colors.

"Pick one and try it," Draco said. Harry reached in the box and picked one.

"This one?" Harry asked.

"Nah, that's a sickly green," Draco said. "It's probably not that good. At best it's going to be lime, at worst...well, moving on. Here's a purple one. Purple is always grape. Try this one instead. Then you can try the green one if you want."

Of course, Harry complied with Draco's instructions. He put the green one back in the box and pulled out the purple one. After examining it as though he thought it might bite him, Harry instead bit the bean as he popped it in his mouth. A look of sheer surprise came over his face as he tasted it.

"Good, huh?" Draco said, reaching in the box himself and taking out a random bean. "Eck, red. Could be something harmless like cherry or strawberry." He threw it in the air and caught it in his mouth, as he grinned at Harry. Then he looked shocked and began to cough.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Draco choked out between coughs. "It was - it was Tabasco. What sort of an idiot flavors a bean like Tabasco?!"

"Um...Bertie Bott?" Harry guessed, after having stalled for enough time that he could read the name.

"Haha," Draco laughed, genuinely, making Harry feel warm that he successfully made a joke, apparently, "you're right. He's exactly the idiot who did that. And we're the idiots who buy them even though he warns us right there what they are." Harry smiled as Draco continued to laugh.

After a while, Draco suggested they open the chocolate frogs. Harry grabbed the box, and handed it to Draco, who, after a moment's surprise, opened the wrapping on the box.

"Open it up," Draco instructed excitedly. And Harry did so. He pulled the lid off without any guard near the rim of the box, and the frogs began jumping out. They jumped onto the couch and floor in no time.

"Close it!" Draco yelled, and Harry snapped it closed faster than Draco had ever seen anyone move.

"Sorry," Harry said, hoping he hadn't done anything too wrong.

"It's fine," Draco said. "Only two got out, I think. We just need to find them, is all. Look! There they are! I'll get the one on the right, you get the one on the left, okay?"

"Sure," Harry said, and watched as Draco sneaked up behind his frog and then sprang forward catching it in his hands. Harry copied Draco's actions, and successfully caught his frog as well.

"Every caught a frog before?" Draco asked.

"No," Harry said, wondering if he should have or not.

"Okay, so now that you've caught your first frog, eat it." Draco popped his into his mouth.

"But - but -" Harry began to protest.

"What's wrong?" Draco said.

"It's alive," Harry said weakly, as the frog continued to struggle in his hands.

"No, it's not," Draco said. "It's just spelled to move. It'll melt in your hands if you don't eat it soon, and then it'll stop moving too." Harry looked at the little brown frog in his hands, and brought it up to eye level. He noticed the little eyes of the frog as they looked at him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said after a moment. "I can't."

"Food is alive," Draco said. "Or at least it used to be."

"Yeah," Harry said weakly. "I know."

"This isn't even living."

"Yeah. I know."

"There's no reason you can't eat it," Draco pressed.

"It's just - it's just - " Harry began stammering. "It's looking at me! How can I eat something that's looking at me?" His voice seemed a bit distraught.

"It's not alive!" Draco insisted. Then, after a moment's thought, said, "If you don't want to eat it, that's fine too. I can put it back in the box." Harry handed the frog back to Draco, but found that when he tried, a bunch of the chocolate had melted into his hands. Seperated from the rest of the chocolate, the frog had lost its spell and stopped moving.

"Well," Draco said, "it's not moving anymore. The spell's gone. Want to eat it now?" Harry brought one of his chocolate stained fingers to his mouth and licked it. A look of bliss crossed his face as he closed his eyes, savoring the heavenly taste.

"It's amazing," Harry said.

"Yeah, here's the rest of it," Draco said, smiling as Harry accept the rest of the frog.

.oO-Oo.

It had been a wonderful evening for Harry. Draco and he had laughed and enjoyed the beans and frogs. Draco was definitely the one person outside of Professor Snape that Harry felt comfortable around.

He liked Hermione and Neville well enough. They had been really nice, in their own ways. But there was something about Draco - some unspoken agreement.

Suddenly Harry realized, it was like Draco knew about his past. Knew what had been done to him. Knew all of his most kept secrets. Harry dismissed the thought as rubbish though. Not only had Draco not had a way to find out, but if Draco knew, then he wouldn't have come down to visit him that night. So obviously Draco had no idea.

.oO-Oo.

Just one more evening. Then these children traipsing through his chambers would be over for the week. Severus had arranged with them for this to be a weekly thing, so starting Monday, it would begin all over again. But he would have Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings to himself. Well, he had planned that on Friday, he and Harry would spend some time together. More than just teaching him, or dealing with the mess his relatives had left.

But rather than trying to stay out of the way then, he would be controlling it. Honestly, it would be a lot less stressful for him. Hands on was always less stressful, he felt.

"Ronald Weasley is your guest tonight," Severus said as they sat down to supper. "He goes by Ron, apparently. He's a Gryffindor, and comes from a large family."

"What's he like?" Harry asked.

"I honestly don't know," Severus said. "His brothers, though, have had quite a variety in their personalities. William and Charles were both good workers, acceptable in potions, very respectable. Percival, well, since he's currently my student, my comments must be limited, but let us say, I feel his attitude is simply an act he puts on, and badly at that. Then there are the twins, Fred and George. They are particularly good students, but have a habit of playing pranks at every turn. How Ronald will behave, I don't know yet."

"Will he be - nice?" Harry continued.

"I would expect so," Severus answered. If Ron wasn't nice, Severus would see to it that he would be serving detention for the rest of the school year. In class, Ron had given him no reason to hate him any more than any other Gryffindor. Typical lack of attention to class generally, but no added stubbornness or disrespect.

.oO-Oo.

"Hello, Professor Snape," Ron said when the door opened. Ron stepped in, and looked at Professor Snape warily.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," he replied. "This is Mr. Harry Potter, and Harry, this is Ronald Weasley."

"Hi, Ronald," Harry said, now offering his hand for Ron to shake. Ron accepted it gratefully with a forceful shake.

"Just Ron, please," he said. "Nice to meet you, Harry."

"You too," Harry said.

"Hey, I brought wizards' chess," Ron said, showing Harry the box he was carrying. "I can teach you if you don't know how to play."

"I'll leave you to your own devices," Professor Snape announced suddenly. "Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter." He turned and left.

.oO-Oo.

Severus sat down at his desk, as he had every night previously. He hoped Ron would prove a good companion for Harry.

Wow, he was tired. His nights were restless, and his days were packed with work. Perhaps if he just rested for a moment, he would feel better. He lay his head on his arms on his desk. Just for a minute, he told himself.

In that minute, Severus Snape drifted into a much needed sleep.

.oO-Oo.

Ron began setting up the board on the table nearby. He began explaining the names of the pieces and their functions.

"Am I going too fast for you?" Ron asked eventually. "Most first years don't know how to play. It's horrible, not having a chess partner."

"It's fine," Harry assured him. Actually, Ron had lost Harry at the beginning of his explanation. This game was more complicated than he had ever thought to play. But he would try to fake his way through the game, he figured.

"Hey, what's it like, living with Snape?" Ron suddenly asked.

"It's great," Harry said.

"Really? He treats you right?" Ron sounded surprised at the thought.

"Yeah, he's always really good to me," Harry said, puzzled. Too good, Harry added to himself. His professor was too good to him.

"I'm surprised," Ron said. "He can be a real jerk sometimes in class, especially to the Gryffindors."

"I don't - " but then Harry cut himself off. "Really?"

"Yeah, he takes points away all the time," Ron said. Then he shrugged. "Well, I guess you're a Slytherin, so it's different for you." Harry just shrugged. "But he treats you right?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "He's good."

"That's good," Ron said. "I suppose he would be, asking us all down here and everything."

"What?" Harry said.

"I suppose it was sort of a stupid question," Ron clarified.

"No, what was that about asking you?"

"Oh, Snape asked Draco and me after class one day to come visit you. And then there's this girl, Hermione, - we met on the train - and she said that Snape asked her and Neville to visit you too." Harry had paled drastically. "You alright?"

"Yes," Harry murmured, "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Ron observed casually. "Are you sure you shouldn't lie down or something? You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine," Harry said, more insistently this time. Ron got up wordless and in a moment came back with a glass of water.

"Here, drink this," he said. "It might make you feel better."

"I'm - fine!" Harry growled at him.

"Okay, sorry," Ron said defensively. "Here, let's just play some chess."

.oO-Oo.

It had been a long, long evening with Ron. Finally, after several games of chess (which had given Harry a monster headache), Professor Snape had come back and told Ron it was time to go before curfew. They had said good-bye, and then Harry quickly said good-night to his professor, and retreated to the seclusion of his bedroom.

Professor Snape had asked them all here. That had been why they had come. It wasn't because they liked him - Harry. It was because they had been asked to. And they probably couldn't say no to a professor even if they wanted to. Hermione had been stiff. She certainly didn't want to be there. Neville had been scared. He certainly didn't want to be there. Ron, well, he almost said he didn't want to be there. Or at least, that was the impression Harry got. Draco was the only one who had seemed like he wanted to be there. But maybe that was just a good act. He probably didn't want to be there either.

He had had friends - or so he thought. And now he had lost them - or so he thought. No, rather, he never had them to begin with. There was nothing to lose.

He should have known better, he told himself angrily. He should have known that someone like himself couldn't really have friends. People might spend time with him, even willingly, but it would be to use him, to invent in him. And most wouldn't even want that. It wasn't like he was good at anything.

But the part that stung the most was that his professor had done this to him. Professor Snape had asked them to come, and then Harry had opened himself for all this hurt because of it. He felt terrible. In many ways, he felt worse than after he'd had a beating from his uncle. He had trusted Professor Snape to look after him.

He had trusted.