Ron was avoiding Harry, but not in the same way he had been before. Before he had seemed angry and irritated, and now he looked meek and ashamed. Some of the younger Gryffindors had taken to calling Harry, ‘Slytherin' when he passed them in the common room or halls, but Harry found that he didn't mind too much. As he'd said before, being Slytherin wasn't all that bad. It seemed to have it's downsides (like being loyal to the point that you got detention for things you didn't do), and being associated with Voldemort's bad reputation (though Harry found that most of the students belonged to families that had no association with him at all), but overall wasn't horrible. Some of the teachers seemed surprised by Harry's new friendships, but not dismayed, and Dumbledore seemed downright pleased that Harry was ‘bridging gaps' between houses.

Not everyone was pleased though. Younger students Harry didn't much care about, but when the twins cornered him one day with serious looks at the end of a corridor after their last class of the day, Harry's throat tightened. They were a year older and knew more spells, not to mention that there were two of them and only one of him.

"We want to talk to you Harry," George said, frown set firmly in place and hands on his hips. Harry put his hand behind his back so he could take his wand out of his back pocket and hold it in case he needed it.

"Ok," he said warily. He didn't like being so alone with them, though it would never have bothered him before his falling out with Ron.

"What did you do to Ron?"

"We know you don't want to be in Gryffindor anymore. That's fine. We don't care. It's just a stupid school house. But you said something to him and now he's moping around the castle. Did you threaten him?"

"I wouldn't-" Harry tried, but Fred cut him off.

"You already broke his nose, and now you're hanging around with Slytherins. Did you curse him?"

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No. I don't curse people."

"But Slytherins do."

"I'm not a Slytherin, and no they don't."

"You've changed Harry," George said, shaking his head with a sad look on his face. "What happened to you?" He almost seemed... disgusted. "Come on Fred, let's go."

Harry felt the hurt bubble in him. They were disgusted with him? Like the Dursleys had been. The Dursleys were his family, and they hated his guts. And now so did his other family... the Weasleys.

"I'm not the one who changed," Harry said sadly, not really meaning to say it to them, but they heard him anyway and turned around.

"You don't think so?" Fred asked, incredulous.

Harry looked up, realizing they hadn't left yet. Maybe they did have plans to pummel him.

"You- you gang up on me to scare me," he said. "When I'm all alone. You never did that before."

"We're not doing anything wrong Harry."

"You left me all by myself. Again. I thought you cared once because you took me away from the Dursleys that one time in the car, but that was it. You push me aside like an inconvenience and forget about me, like I'm nothing. I thought you were my friends."

"We thought you were Ron's friend, until you broke his nose."

"I thought Ron was my friend until he pushed me down and started hitting me in the stomach. I thought I was safe from that here because I had friends to protect me. But I didn't have anyone there to protect me so I protected myself. He invited me for Christmas before that, but then left me here just because he was angry with me for asking Ginny out. Your family acts like they want me to be happy, but then it turns out you don't want me to be happy at all. At least you have an excuse, because Ron's your brother so you have to stick by him, but Hermione's not part of your family and she left me here too. None of you cared that I didn't get presents or have anyone to be with on Christmas. None of you cared that I sat alone in a hallway all Christmas morning. Even Sirius didn't send me a present and he's my Godfather. I shouldn't have expected one, that was my fault for getting my hopes up."

Fred and George looked at each other and then back at Harry, who had been talking as he stared at the floor. His voice was so low... so defeated. Nobody had sent him any gifts at all on Christmas?

"You- you didn't get anything?" George asked.

Harry wiped a sleeve across his eyes and George swallowed, uncomfortably aware that the fifteen year old was crying.

"It's not a big deal," Harry tried to say, but he was choked up. "Professor Snape found me and took me to spend the day with the other rejects. He gave me presents and candy like he did Draco. But he didn't want to. Not until he found out I hadn't gotten anything else from anybody. I think Draco told him."

The twins shared another look. "We spent Christmas at Grimmuald Place. We told mum and dad that you broke Ron's nose, and Sirius overheard. He- decided to punish you by not sending a gift. So did mum."

"But Ron hit me really hard," Harry said, looking up with hurt in his eyes. "He hit me a lot of times, and he still got presents, because he's worth something to somebody. I'm not the one who changed. I've always been the same: I'm nobody to everybody. I just got lucky for a little while because I thought people cared. I know the truth now though." Harry tried to push past them. He really just wanted to go to bed and close the curtains around himself so he could be alone.

"We didn't know Harry," Fred tried, but he stopped and turned back to them, feeling angry.

"Yes you did. Don't lie. I told you and Hermione I didn't start it, but you didn't believe me. If you cared at all, you would have. Even Sirius didn't care enough to get my side of the story before he decided to punish me."

Harry turned and stalked off, intending to head back to Gryffindor but instead turning to head towards the lower part of the castle. He didn't want the twins following him into Gryffindor to call him a liar some more. Draco and the others had let him sit with them in classes and at meals, maybe they would let him sleep on one of the couches in Slytherin too. It was worth a shot, wasn't it?

Harry knew where the entrance to the Slytherin common room was because he and Ron had snuck in over Christmas in their second year, but he didn't know the password. Instead he waited outside for someone to pass by. It was getting near to curfew for the younger years. He was only waiting a few minutes when a third year hurried up to the entrance to get in before the eight o'clock curfew.

"Could you see if Draco is inside?" Harry asked. The third year nodded but didn't say anything as he went in. Less than a minute later, Draco came out. He saw that Harry's eyes were red and that he had a dull and defeated look on his face.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Uh huh."

"I don't want to go back to Gryffindor tonight."

"Ooh, so you do have some courage after all Gryffindor. Get in here before Snape sees."

Harry followed him in, and was surprised when no one protested that he was in their common room. "They're not going to tell," Draco said as he lead Harry across the large low-ceilinged room and through a door. Down a short hallway off of the common room was a door at the end with a number 5 on it. Draco pushed it open and lead him inside.

"Teddy, conjure a sleeping bag," Draco said when they were inside. Teddy sat up and set his Quidditch magazine down.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Draco said nonchalantly and Harry was grateful that he didn't make fun of him when he knew he'd been crying at some point.

Teddy conjured the fluffiest dark red sleeping bag Harry had ever seen and put it on the floor between his and Draco's beds. Draco took one of his many pillows off his bed and threw it to Harry. "Welcome to our world," he said. Harry sat down on the sleeping bag and was surprised by how soft it was. He didn't feel as out of place as he thought he would, even with Crabbe and Goyle and Blaise looking at him from their desks around the room. Apparently the Slytherins did a lot of studying in the evening as opposed to playing games and talking like Gryffindors did. After a few moments they went back to their schoolwork. Teddy went back to his magazine and Draco opened his nightstand drawer to get out a couple of magazines for Harry. Harry took them and got into the sleeping bag.

"Thanks," he said, still feeling hurt and angry.

"There's nothing to thank us for," Draco said, sounding miffed, and Harry wondered if Draco was irritated with him. There was something to be thankful for though, Harry thought to himself, staring unseeingly at the Quidditch magazine he pretended to read. He was thankful for letters from Santa, and warm clothing, and a fluffy sleeping bag. And though he never thought he would ever believe it, he was thankful for Slytherins too. ‘A family? You'd do well in Slytherin.' Stupid hat, he thought to himself. It should have just put him in Slytherin anyway. A part of him felt sad at the thought though, because he knew that he belonged in Gryffindor because he felt like a Gryffindor. He set the magazine down a few minutes later, ignoring the pushy broom salesman in the ad who kept pointing at a new Thunderstruck he was trying to convince Harry to buy, and closed his eyes. As he drifted off into a fitful dream, a thought pestered him, trying to be acknowledged as he fell away from the waking world: maybe the hat made a prophecy. Not that I ‘would' do well in Slytherin, but that I ‘will' do well there. A place with a family who would accept him. A Slytherin family, despite his being a definite Gryffindor.

Harry slept for twenty minutes before there was a gentle tap on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Draco. Draco only looked towards Harry's feet however, and Harry looked up to see Professor Snape. He had his arms crossed and looked displeased, but interestingly enough, not angry in the slightest.

"Come with me," he said. Harry looked around at the other boys in the dorm. None of them seemed to have left their places. As Harry got out of the sleeping bag and stood up, he was surprised that he was certain none of them had gone to get Snape to tattle on him. It must have been one of the younger years who didn't understand that he belonged there. Of course they wouldn't understand, because he himself didn't quite understand it.

Snape lead him out of the dormitory and across the Slytherin common room. Harry spotted a small group of second years who looked nervous and guilty. So it was younger students. Oh well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Out in the chilly dungeon corridor beyond the Slytherin entrance, Harry wished he were back in the warm red sleeping bag.

"Do I have detention?" Harry asked dully.

"No."

He lead Harry to his office, and pushed the door open. Professor McGonagall was inside, and she looked relieved to see him.

"Mr. Potter! Where were you? I've been worried sick!"

"Sleeping," Snape supplied as he went around behind his desk and sat down.

"Sleeping? Where?"

When Harry didn't answer Snape cleared his throat and said quietly and calmly, "Answer her Potter."

"In the boy's dormitory between Draco and Teddy's beds."

"In the- in Slytherin? Why were you in there?"

Harry refused to look up, and didn't answer, but Snape cleared his throat again, and Harry said, "Because that's the only place I'm wanted right now."

"Harry, I know you've become friends with some of the Slytherins recently, but school rules forbid sleeping in a house you don't belong to."

"I do belong there."

"Harry-"

He looked up, angry and hurt, and his head of house looked startled to see him that way. "Do you really think I belong in Gryffindor? Every year it's something. Every year they find some reason to turn against me and push me away, like I'm old trash or something rotten they'd rather not look at. One year I'm the heir of Slytherin, another I'm the cheat who somehow got his name into the cup, then I'm the boy who brought back the dead body of Cedric Diggory and who lied about Voldemort returning... it's always something. I'm not even a person to them Professor. I'm not," he insisted at her look of disbelief. "I'm not even Harry. This year I'm just the boy who broke Ron's nose. No one even cares to know that he started the fight and had me down on the ground hitting me. No one. If I was a person they would at least hear me out, but they don't want to. So they turn away from me again. They let me eat alone, and sit alone in the common room, and sit in classes alone, and spend all my time alone. You don't even know why I'm friends with the Slytherins do you? It's not because I tried to be their friend. It's because they decided that what other people were doing to me was wrong. It made them angry and they decided to be my friend even though I'd never been friendly with them. Apparently that's what it means to be Slytherin. I'm sorry Professor, but I don't belong in Gryffindor. I should have listened to the hat. It knew all I wanted was someone who would care."

She looked sad, and said very quietly, "I care Harry."

"What does the hat have to do with this?" Snape asked. He'd been so silent that Harry had almost forgotten he was there. Even though the man had been civil to him since Christmas, Harry was still trying to get used to this calm side of him. He was far too used to him sneering and throwing insults at him. Now that Draco and the others had told him and shown him what being Slytherin was though, he could understand why Snape had written back to him as Santa and given him clothes.

"It wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I begged to be put anywhere else because Draco was there and I didn't like how he'd treated Ron before the sorting. Fat lot of good sticking up for Ron did me."

In the silence that followed his confession, the two Professors could sense the hurt he was feeling even from his posture.

"Mr. Potter, return to the fifth year Slytherin dormitory. You will stay there tonight."

Harry didn't question if he'd heard right because he didn't want to push his luck. Even if he'd heard wrong and been told to go back to Gryffindor, he slipped quickly out of the Professor's office without a word and back down the chilly corridors to the Slytherin entrance.

Once again alone in the office where they had met twenty minutes before when Minerva had come to Severus to ask if he'd seen Harry, the two stared at the desk in silence.

"Slytherin?" Minerva finally asked.

"I would not have thought so either."

"Gryffindor is a family," Minerva said, sounding hurt. "It has always been a family. The hat knows that. When it placed me there fifty eight years ago it's exact words to me were, "Gryffindor will be your new family."

"Apparently the hat knew it was not the family meant for him."

"But he's been in Gryffindor for almost six years now. We can't just change him! Albus wouldn't approve."

"He would not," Severus agreed.

She looked up at him. "I must have gone wrong somewhere. If they've treated Harry as badly as he says they have, then it's my fault. I'm the one that's supposed to be setting an example for them."

With a heavy sigh Severus waved her away. "I have set a bad example and the students in my house took it upon themselves to ignore it and do what they wanted. You cannot blame yourself for the actions of teenagers."

"What am I supposed to do though? The fifth years in your house are turning out just fine and the ones in mine clearly have some issues that need to be worked out." She seemed genuinely lost for what to do, and Severus was surprised that she seemed to be asking him. He was one of the younger staff members at the school, and the more seasoned staff rarely if ever asked for his advice on anything that didn't have to do with Potions or healing.

"Do nothing."

"Really Severus."

"I'm serious," he said.

"But Harry is clearly hurting."

"He knows you care. You stepping in to chastise his friends and take care of his problems for him will not help. He has been stepped on his entire life. As a younger child he could not be expected to do anything about it, but now he's nearly a man. Take care of his problems for him and he learns nothing. Let him figure out how to fight his own battles and he might have a chance to stop being the victim."

"He's not playing the victim, he is the victim!" she said, raising her voice angrily.

"I did not say he was playing one. I am merely saying that at this point he continues to let himself be one. He has a choice. We all do. I believe he is on the edge of a decision that will shape him into who he will be as an adult." He gave her a challenging look, daring her to find fault with his logic.

"And you expect him to just stop being the victim?"

"How long has he forgone telling anyone about his circumstances at home, and in this school? Sixteen years. Tonight he finally told you. On Christmas he told me. I'd wager he's told some things to his friends or former friends recently as well. It seems as though he is already changing. Keeping it a secret, he allowed himself to continue being victimized. Telling people the truth, he has taken a step to stopping it."

"You sound certain."

"It's a certainty learned from experience." He gave her a hard look and she stood up straight and flattened down the front of her robes. Once upon a time she had ignored Severus as a student and looked the other way when four Gryffindor boys had nearly gotten him killed. He wouldn't tell her it was a lesson Voldemort had taught him though. Stand and be strong, don't let others push you down. He hoped Harry would figure that out. It sounded like him fighting back against his friend was a start, now he just needed to stand up for that decision.

* * *

Harry went back to Gryffindor the next day and didn't tell anyone where he'd spent the night. Of course, they didn't ask. No, they wouldn't, he thought, and he felt angry. He was tired of being shoved to the side, and having people always assume the worst of him. He was also angry with himself for letting this happen to him over and over again. Until he'd laid it all out on the table for McGonagall, he'd never really thought about all the times his friends or housemates had abandoned him.

Harry was in a bad mood all day even though he wished he weren't. He finally realized it was because every time he sat with the Slytherins in classes he felt normal, and every time a class ended he was dreading going back to Gryffindor tower or having to sit by himself in classes he had with just Gryffindors. Suddenly it felt to Harry as though the Slytherins were his safe haven at Hogwarts, and that going back to Gryffindor was like going back to the Dursleys at the end of a school year, and that made him angry too. Gryffindor was supposed to be his safe haven, not a place where he felt like he had to hide. Everything about this just felt wrong. Like his entire world had been tilted on it's head.

Twice in the halls that day Harry caught Fred and George looking at him and when he spotted them they quickly turned away. Were they going to try to corner him again? They almost looked sorry, but he didn't dare to believe they were sorry for the way they'd treated him.

At the end of the day all Harry wanted to do was go back to Slytherin and do his homework where people wouldn't give him funny looks or call him names, but somehow going back to Slytherin felt cowardly. Interesting how earlier in the week going to sit at Slytherin table felt like the courageous thing to do, like the Gryffindor thing, and now he felt only like he was running away. One thing Harry knew that he was not, was a coward. So after dinner at the Slytherin table, he went back to the Gryffindor common room and sat down with his homework at a table by himself. There was a group of first years on the floor a few feet away, and Harry swore he heard one of them mutter, "Slytherin," under his breath.

He stopped unpacking his homework and books and looked down at the group of eleven year olds. "Yeah?" he asked, knowing he sounded testy. He'd been trying not to explode all day. Maybe he should have just gone to Slytherin after all, or maybe even the library. They looked up at him, startled that he'd acknowledged them after ignoring them and their comments for the past few weeks. A few others around the room looked over too. They weren't used to hearing Harry speak recently.

"What?" asked the first year whom Harry's ire was currently directed at.

"If you have something to say to me, say it out loud so everyone can hear," Harry said.

The first year shook his head.

"No? Seems a bit cowardly doesn't it? To talk about someone behind their back and then refuse to own up to it?"

"I'm not a coward!" the boy shouted. "You're the Slytherin! You don't belong here!" The boy's small amount of anger had run out fairly quickly and he looked flustered.

"So it's bad to be a Slytherin?" Harry asked. He was aware that everyone in the common room was listening now, though he was trying not to look around and see who all was there. He thought he'd seen Ron and Hermione sitting in the opposite corner when he'd come in, but wasn't sure now.

"Yes. They lie and cheat in classes and steal and-" he stopped at the stern frown he was receiving from Harry.

"Keep going," Harry said. "If you're a Gryffindor than have the courage to say it all to my face, right here in front of everybody instead of continuing to say it under your breath as I pass by in the halls."

"You're a traitor," the boy said very quietly, and then he firmly clamped his mouth shut.

"What's a traitor then?" Harry asked, but the boy was done talking. Harry turned to look at the rest of the common room. "Well?" he asked, hands on his hips. "What's a traitor? If I'm going to be accused by my own house of being a traitor, I want to know what you think a traitor is."

People looked nervously at each other. The sixth and seventh years didn't look like they had anything to say, but were interested in hearing what Harry was going to say next. It was mostly the younger students who seemed wary of Harry, like he was going to explode. They were right. A fourth year said, "A traitor is someone who betrays what he stands for. Someone who goes to the other side."

"And what is it I'm supposed to stand for as a Gryffindor that I've betrayed?"

"Loyalty, courage, friendship-"

Harry stopped him by holding up his hand. "Haven't I been loyal? I've been in Gryffindor for six years. Every time you all decide to turn against me, here I am, still in Gryffindor. Still helping people with their homework, still running the DA, still representing our house in the tri-wizard tournament and playing on the Quidditch team. And courage? Is facing down Voldemort a cowardly thing to do? Or a dragon, or man eating snakes or Professors who want to rip my head off for no reason? What about friendship? Huh? Anyone? When have I been bad to any of you? When have I called you names when you pass by in the halls? When have I refused to sit with you at meals or during classes or in the common room, or refused to speak to you? When have I talked about you behind your back?" He glanced to the far corner of the common room and saw that Ron and Hermione were there. Hermione looked sad and Ron's face was red as he stared at his hands.

"But you've been spending all your time with Slytherins!" protested the first year who had suddenly found his voice again.

"Why is that? Are you all blind? You say I'm not courageous, loyal, or friendly, but you decide to look the other way when you are being a coward, disloyal or unfriendly to me."

"You're lying!" said the boy.

"Who has been friendly to me since Christmas, or even before that? Haven't you seen me sitting by myself all the time? You think that was by choice? I asked someone out because I liked her, and her brother got mad at me and started hitting me. When I fought back and he got hurt, each one of my friends decided they were mad at me and didn't want to be my friend anymore. Just because I was defending myself! No one even cared to hear my side of the story. So they left me alone for Christmas. They didn't talk to me or send me any presents, and after Christmas they were still ignoring me like I didn't even matter. They were too cowardly to hear my side of it and have to face the fact that they'd made a mistake. No courage, no loyalty, no friendship. Nothing Gryffindor at all about what happened. And I didn't complain about it, not even once. But guess who was a Gryffindor during that time? The Slytherins. That's right. I spent Christmas with Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape, who both gave me presents, the only ones I got this year. And after Christmas, Draco told the other Slytherins how everyone in Gryffindor was treating me, and they decided it wasn't right, so they said I could start sitting with them at classes and at meals. They were friendly. They were courageous to try to include a Gryffindor even when the rest of their house didn't like what they were doing. When I asked them why they did it, they said, ‘This is what it is to be Slytherin. You're a Gryffindor, you wouldn't understand.' They were right, I didn't understand, but I do now. So go ahead and call me a Slytherin. I've been a Gryffindor long enough. I'm done. You all can continue acting however you like. I don't even care anymore." Harry turned to the first year who had been calling him Slytherin all week. "Every time you call me a Slytherin you are paying me a complement. You are saying to me, ‘Courageous, loyal, friendly.' I'm ok with that."

Harry was so angry that he stood up and left his books and bag and homework there at the table. He resisted the urge to run up the stairs to the boy's dorms and instead walked, standing as straight as he could, fists clenched at his sides. What is wrong with people? Why can't they just understand that it's not ok to treat me however they want. He pushed open the door to the dorm and sat down at his desk. He was going over what he'd said in the common room again, trying to think of how he could have explained better when the door opened a few moments later. He could hear a lot of chatter coming from downstairs in the common room for a moment until the door closed again, once again blocking the noise. He looked up and found the other fifth year boys there.

"Come to tell me to get out?" Harry snarked. He almost wished they would. Then he wouldn't be a coward for going to hide in Slytherin. He could just go to the dungeons and tell Professor Snape that the others had told him to get out and that would be that. Wouldn't it?

Neville spoke first. "Just so you know Harry, I never thought any of those things about you that said down there. I'm sorry I haven't spent any time with you. Gran's been on my case to get my grades up so I've been studying a lot. I did notice you were spending time with Draco and his friends and wondered why, but I didn't know it was because you and Ron had row."

Harry's cheeks tinged red with embarrassment then. Maybe he should have just kept his big mouth shut. Now that Neville had said it, he thought maybe that a lot of people had just not noticed him sitting by himself.

"Sorry Neville," Harry said. "I'm a git. You didn't do anything to me."

"Don't apologize," Neville said. "Gran said it's a sign of weakness. Besides, you have to do what you have to do." He walked past Harry and went to sit on hid bed with his homework.

Harry looked up at Dean and Seamus and said, "And you've come to tell me I'm an idiot too?"

"No," Dean said. "You're right. We were being jerks and it wasn't the first time. When Ron stopped talking to you and started hanging out with us we thought it was kind of cool to have another friend to play games and do homework with. You two are close so we never see much of you. We kind of just figured things would work themselves out between you like always."

"What Dean is saying is we're sorry we were gits," Seamus said. "We can't say it won't happen again, but we'll try not to exclude you again or jump to conclusions." Seamus had been very angry at Harry last year because of the lies the papers had printed about him. Harry didn't want to admit that that still stung, to know that people believed whatever lies other people spread about him.

Dean and Seamus went back out to the common room, leaving just Ron and Neville in the dorms with him. Harry didn't expect Ron to apologize or to say anything at all to him, so he turned away and opened his desk drawer, looking for paper to start his homework, or a letter, or anything at all to make it look like he had important things to do. He started scribbling down a letter to Sirius that he didn't intend to send, and after a few moments, Ron cleared his throat. When Harry didn't look up or acknowledge him, Ron cleared his throat again, gave a nervous look to Neville, and then asked, "The Slytherins really tried to be your friend because of the way we were treating you?"

"Yes," Harry said, not looking up as he continued to write what amounted to little more than nonsense.

"Who would have thought, eh?" Ron said. His voice was high like he was trying to lighten the mood and make a joke, but Harry didn't respond and so Ron plowed on.

"I would have said yes if you would have asked me first."

"What?" Harry looked up, quill finally still in his hand.

"If you would have asked me about Ginny, I would have said yes."

"Ron, she's fifteen. We don't need your permission. You didn't ask anyone else for permission when you asked Hermione out. That would have offended her."

"Well-" Ron started, searching for words.

"You didn't have to start hitting me just because you were mad at me. You pushed me down and started pummeling me and I was stunned because I didn't think it was really happening."

"Fred and George fight," Ron said, as though it justified his actions.

"Who do I fight Ron? Voldemort, death eaters, my uncle and cousin. And I never see Fred and George totally disowning each other after a fight."

"Harry what do you want me to say? I made a mistake. I'm sorry."

Harry stared into his eyes, still feeling angry and alone even though his friend had just apologized. "I don't care that we fought Ron," he said. "I care that you let everybody think that I started it, or that I just hit you for no reason. You even went home and spent Christmas with my Godfather and told him that hit you, so he didn't send me a present because he wanted to punish me, like it was all my fault. And you broke a promise to me just like everyone else does. You said I could go home with you for Christmas, and then you left me here. I sat in the corridor by myself all morning until lunch time until Snape finally felt bad enough for me that he had to take me to the Christmas room."

"The what?" Neville asked from the other side of the room.

"The Christmas room," Harry said. "Each year one staff has to go around the castle and gather up all the kids that are feeling homesick or whatever on Christmas and take them too a room to play games with each other. The staff gives each kid a present."

"I've never heard of that," Neville said.

"You always have a home to go home to for Christmas," Harry said. "I've been almost every year. Except Ron said I could spend Christmas with him this year, so I thought I wasn't going to have to go to the Christmas room this time around."

Harry turned back to his paper and stared at it, unable to think of any words at all to write down, not even nonsense ones. Ron was quiet though he still didn't move from his spot at the edge of the desk by the door.

"So you're not going to forgive me?" Ron asked, voice very quiet.

"You had no intention of forgiving me," Harry said. "Why am I always supposed to be held to a higher standard than everybody else? You want me to forgive you, but this isn't the first time you've done this to me. You'll do it again and again. I'll be left by myself again and again because that's what always happens to me."

Ron gave a sad look at Harry and then quietly backed out of the room and closed the door. Harry set his quill down and stared at the desk.

"I don't know about what Slytherins do," Neville said, startling Harry, who had forgotten he was still in the room, "but Gryffindors forgive. We make too many mistakes to not forgive each other."

"I didn't say I wouldn't forgive him," Harry said, feeling irritable.

"No but you made him think it," Neville said.

Harry sighed and then put his head down on his arms on the desk. Let Ron feel like he did for a while. That's what he wanted, for Ron to think he'd never be forgiven. Neville was right though, it wasn't very nice. What was the point of Harry ranting at all of the Gryffindors downstairs if not to point out that they had been hypocrites? He didn't want to be one too. Wonderful, he thought to himself. Now I get to go back downstairs and face down everyone I just yelled at.

Standing and pushing the chair away from himself, Harry opened the door and went down the spiral staircase. A few people looked up at him as he appeared at the bottom, but for the most part people had settled back in to their studying or their board games. Harry scanned the room and found Ron sitting by himself at the table in front of Harry's homework working on something. He crossed the room and sat down across from him.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Your homework."

"What?"

"Mine's finished. I need something to do."

"But why would you want to do mine? That's cheating."

"I don't care. I'm going to prove to you that I'm sorry for the way I acted and that I'm not going to flake out on you again."

"And doing my homework proves that?"

"I have to do something."

Harry reached forward and pulled the parchment away from him. His eyes scanned down the history essay. It was passable. Ron had even been trying to write it with words Harry would have used so it sounded like Harry had done it. Then without warning Harry crumpled the parchment up and tossed it over the group of first years and into the fire.

"I'll prove it to you some other way then," Ron said, looking defeated.

Harry sighed, feeling tired. "You don't have anything to prove to me," he told him. "Because I'm not ever going to let you treat me like that again."

"Harry, I-" he looked lost for words.

"I forgive you Ron," Harry said. "I never stopped being your friend, you're the one who stopped being mine. I'm tired of people giving up on me. I'm not going to let it happen again. If you try to pull this again, I'm going to have something to say about it, even if I have to get up and shout at the whole common room again."

"I won't act like that again," Ron said. "You'll see. I'll earn back your trust even if it takes the rest of my life."

They stared at each other for a long moment and then Harry pulled a fresh piece of parchment out of his backpack. As he started re-writing his assignment, he asked, "So is Ginny mad at me or what?"

"No," said Ron. "She's mad at me. She's been mad at me since we fought. It's been awful. She won't speak to me. And Hermione's mad at you, me, and Ginny. She said she's tired of us fighting and always trying to drag her into it."

"She's smart then," Harry said. "Go apologize to her and Ginny."

"Er," Ron said, and Harry looked up at him. "Ginny thinks you're mad at her. You might want to talk to her."

"Maybe tomorrow at breakfast," Harry said. Ron nodded as though he thought this was a good plan for himself as well.

* * *

Severus Snape watched as Harry entered the Great Hall the next morning at breakfast, walked boldly over to Gryffindor table, took Ginny Weasley by the hand, and then lead her to Slytherin table and sat down next to Draco and Pansy. Ginny looked uncomfortable for a few moments, but was soon drawn into a conversation by a fifth year Slytherin girl named Penelope.

"What do you suppose that is about?" Minerva asked. She and Severus had both been keeping an eye on Harry since the night he'd spent in Slytherin.

Severus pointed quietly at Gryffindor where Ron appeared to be arguing with Hermione in hushed tones. Finally the red head stood up straight and then appeared to be steeling himself for a challenge. After a few moments he too crossed the Great Hall. He stood next to Harry for a moment, before Draco rolled his eyes and finally scooted over to make room for him.

"It would appear the situation has resolved itself," Severus said.

"But it's happened so quickly! How do you suppose it happened?"

"Knowing Potter, he probably made a fool of himself shouting at the whole house."

"What?"

"I heard students talking about it in the Entrance Hall this morning."

Severus and Minerva watched as Granger got up from the table before the end of breakfast and also walked across the hall to join the others at Slytherin table.

"Your Gryffindors are ruining my table Minerva," he commented with no real enthusiasm.

"Your Slytherins are having a positive effect on my Gryffindors."

He looked at her with narrowed eyes as she pursed her lips and then broke into a smile.

* * *

"Mr. Potter."

Harry looked up from the notebook he was trying to stuff back into his overfull bag in the back of the Potions room. Ron and Hermione had already filed out, arguing with each other again, and most of the rest of the class had already left.

"Yes sir?"

"Things seem to have worked out for you."

"Mostly sir."

"Mostly?"

Harry looked around to be sure the classroom had emptied out. "It doesn't matter sir."

"Did I not tell you at Christmas that I care? Therefore whatever you have to say does matter."

The green eyes that looked up to meet his black ones seemed startled. "Do you really care? People just like to say that. Professor Dumbledore says it all the time."

"You don't believe he means it?"

"If he meant it he would do something to show it."

"Such as?"

Harry gave him a wary look and Severus returned an impassive one. If he had told the whole of Gryffindor house that he was done being mistreated, then maybe he was ready to tell staff that he was done returning to a home where he was mistreated.

"Find me someplace else to stay over the summer."

"Have you asked him?"

"Every year."

"And he knows how you feel about returning home and why?"

"Not exactly..."

"Perhaps you should tell him."

"It won't matter," Harry said with finality. "He told me I have to go back there no matter what. When I turn 17 in the summer I'll be able to leave."

"And where will you go?"

"Ron's house I guess, I dunno."

"You have mended the burnt bridges between the two of you?"

"I guess."

"Potter, I would not rely on the uncertainty of ‘I guess' to ensure you have a place to go for the summer."

"What am I supposed to do then? It's not like I have a lot of options."

"You managed an entire night in Slytherin without incident. Do you think it is possible for you to manage an entire summer staying with a Slytherin?"

"I guess. Draco's dad is a death eater though..."

"I am not speaking of Draco."

Harry stared at him long enough to make the silence uncomfortable, so Severus cleared his throat and said, "I will speak to the Headmaster on your behalf. If he is not willing to let you stay at the castle over the summer, then you may stay with me, if you are amenable."

"With you?"

"That is what I said, is it not?"

Harry started laughing then and it startled Severus. When he gave Harry a displeased look, Harry tried to stop laughing and said, "Come on. You're only saying that because I said I was supposed to be in Slytherin."

"I am making you an offer because I do not care to see you return to a place where you are unwelcome. Whether or not you were meant to be placed in Slytherin is not my concern."

"You don't mean it. You'll get mad at me or something before summer and I'll end up back at the Dursleys."

Severus surprised Harry then by taking a piece of parchment from his desk and writing something hurriedly down with a quill.

"You are aware of the binding nature of wizard contracts, are you not?"

Harry walked over to him to see what he was writing. ‘I Severus Snape will allow Harry Potter to stay at my place of residence this summer if he so chooses regardless of circumstances.' He signed his name and slid the parchment towards Harry.

"You do not have to sign it. By picking up the paper, the magic will make the contract binding."

"You mean it, don't you?"

"I would not have said it if I did not."

Harry picked up the paper and felt his fingers tingle from the magic, and then looked up at Snape. He took the parchment and then walked towards the door where he could still hear Ron and Hermione arguing out in the corridor. Before he opened it, he turned back and gave Snape an approving look. "You really are Santa Clause aren't you?" And then he was gone.

Ridiculous boy, Severus thought to himself. Didn't he know there was no Santa Clause? No, just foolish Potion's Masters who were going too soft for their own good.