“Listen, I’m just asking a rational question.” Oliver Wood countered from across Fred.

They were eating breakfast at Gryffindor table on this fine Thursday morning, and when Harry, Hermione and Ron had entered along with the company of both Malfoy and Nott, it seemed his house mates could not keep silent about their worries and disapproval. Their concerns seemed directed mostly to him, Harry, of course…perhaps understandably so. Harry had been the one to publically remain neutral or – dare one say it – friendly with the Slytherin blonde. Harry had to remind himself it was normal for them to wonder – and once again Harry had to admit he was the one being abnormal. The thought made his stomach turn about as much as the tone in which his housemates were interrogating him now.

Harry couldn’t ever shake the feeling of being...different, it seemed.

“Why on Merlin’s broomstick would yeh even think about bein’ friendly with Malfoy and his little cronies? Don’t think we ‘aven’t noticed.” Oliver continued in a lower voice. “He could be luring yeh into some kind o’ trap and then we’ll all end up losing an arse-ton of points somehow!”

A few students near him nodded, including Lee Jordan. Others looked perplexed. Colin, sitting beside Ginny, looked as worried as she did.

“Honestly wouldn’t put it past him…” Ron huffed quietly. Harry shot him an icy look.

“That’s not even the worst of it.” Harry was surprised to hear this come from Dean Thomas’s way, “Harry, it doesn’t make sense that you’d want to be mates with the scummy likes of Malfoy.”

Harry blinked, as he leaned back a bit in his seat, taking in their entire side of the table that seemed focused on him and the conversation. How had this gotten out of hand so fast? It was too early to be making this sort of wave...Harry had hoped it would be gradual, that people would get used to the idea of interhouse community...especially between the Lions and Snakes. But apparently the change was too stark to not notice, and therefore had to be pushed against.

Now even Ron had quieted, his ears turned pink. Hermione fiddled with her hands in her lap, looking down with a worried crinkle in her brow. After a moment she then slipped a hand into Harry’s which had been unconsciously clenched into a fist at his side. Ron shifted to be sitting a smidge closer to Harry, his face contrite and regretful at the remark he had made. Harry drew a deep calming breath, relaxed his hand in Hermione’s, then channeled his inner Slytherin, however much it still existed.

“Oliver, do you want to win the house and quidditch cup this year?” Harry directed to Wood, who looked gobsmacked at the question.

“Blimey, Harry. Of course I bloody do!” Oliver hissed, not in anger but in barely contained chaotic energy – Harry was inwardly pleased to see the other boy was still as fanatical as he remembered, though Harry knew it was more for the quidditch cup than anything else.

“This rivalry we have with Slytherin has gotten out of hand. And even worse, with Dra-er, Malfoy.” Harry cringed at himself but ploughed on. “We will keep losing points from getting in trouble with them - “

“You mean when you get in trouble.” Someone down the way said under their breath. Harry’s concentration broke but only a split second.

“I seem to recall some times when we lost points because of a housemate and a Slytherin – and their last name wasn’t Potter.” Ron countered seriously in Harry’s defense, pointedly looking at Oliver. He knew better than most in their year of Wood’s own rivalry with Marcus Flint, due to his elder brothers’ stories of them as well as seeing it on the field.

“Pick a side, Weasley!” another voice called down the opposite side of the table. It seemed now most of the Gryffindor table was occupied in the conversation.

“Oiy! Lay off Ron!” George shot back in defense of his brother. Fred and Percy jumped in, as did a few others. A few heads from Ravenclaw had turned their way and Harry had become anxious to cease this mayhem.

“That’s it!” Harry all but shouted, and their table. Harry took off his glasses to wipe his face in frustration, trying to occlude best he could to control his emotions. But it was like trying to ride a motorcycle when he hadn’t even learned to ride a normal bicycle – which in reality, come to think of it, Harry actually didn’t know how to do. This train of thought was getting nowhere, of course. Right. Back to the immediate problem at hand -

 “This isn't about sides. This is about being smart. Ravenclaw doesn’t have the complete rights to intelligence, y’know.”

“True, what with Hermione as proof of that.” came from Fred, and Hermione looked up in surprise and blushed as she smiled back at him. Ron beamed too, despite his own nerves.

Harry fiddled with his glasses a moment then slid them back on. He had thought about this a bit since coming back, so he jumped in on what he thought would be an immediate ice-breaker. “If there was ever a sure way to win both cups - “ and save the majority of Slytherin from Riddle’s influence, Harry thought morosely, “ - then we need to stop losing points over stupid, petty interhouse fighting and start gaining points as much as we can.” Some familiar faces looking back at him seemed to be thinking this logic over. He pushed on.

“This is Oliver’s last year...we should try our best to win it now more than ever. No one has pushed us closer to winning than him. And if we are going for one final hurrah then it needs to be clean, not messy.” There. That was something they could likely agree on, even if it was a rather flimsy reason.

“So you’re being nice to those Snakes just to keep the peace to...win a cup?” Pavarti raised a brow in disbelief.

“Hey! It’s not some rinky-dink cup, this is the Inter-House Quidditch Cup we’re talking about!” Oliver spat. Percy wrinkled his nose at him at his near conniption while Lavender just rolled her eyes.

“No, Pavarti, that’s not the whole reason.” Harry tried to explain. His hands, which had now been back on the table, had begun to tremble slightly. He pulled them back onto his lap but not before both Ginny and Neville had noticed. “I’ve been talking to Draco and - “

“Draco now, is it?” Seamus scoffed. Harry almost growled.

“Yes, Draco.” He ground out at the interruption. “We’ve come to an agreement to stop the nonsense of the past few years and try to start off new.”

“So one word out of the git’s mouth and all’s forgiven?” Dean now had his own edge to his tone. “He gets to call Hermione a nasty slur first year and it’s fine? Then that business with the Heir of Slytherin last year – don’t look surprised, I’ve heard the rumors same as everyone else - that his dad had something to do with it. ‘Why Ginny here got all sick – some sort of residual curse or some such.” Harry felt his heart grow jittery and he stopped blinking altogether. Dean continued, “Gin almost died, as I heard it.” Harry flicked a look to Ginny who caught his eye, her face had grown as pale as his own. “Not to mention his family’s ties to You-Know-Who. Merlin, Harry, his own cousin Sirius Black is out there now escaped from Azkaban and probably looking for you to kill you! And you want to all of a sudden play nice? ”

There were a few gasps, and the table had grown eerily silent in the midst of the otherwise natural ambiance and chatter of the rest of the Great Hall. Oliver looked a bit sick, actually feeling bad he had started this. Even Dean looked shocked that the words had managed to spill out of himself as they had, apparently he hadn’t meant to say everything is such a blunt way – or at all. Seamus eyed his best friend in a sort of shocked awe. Harry had taken for granted that things were still seen as very black and white – or perhaps, Gold and Emerald – and for reasonably good reasons. It had not been just Draco who had hurt them but also his father, for letting slip the diary into the school in the first place, ultimately almost killing Ginny. Having happened so long ago, and so much having happened after, Harry had simply forgotten the implications of the incident. Here in this time, though, it was a fresh wound.

“Harry…?” Neville murmured quietly, resisting the urge to reach out to the smaller, raven haired boy whose murky green eyes had now begun to glisten with unshed emotion as he stared back at Dean. Dean, to his credit, did not look away in embarrassment but held Harry’s gaze, fully expecting some kind of an answer. Or retaliation.

Harry broke eye contact finally to look down at his hands, mimicking Hermione’s pose only minutes before.

“You’re right. Not everything is forgiven.” Harry conceded in a small but steady voice. Ron held his breath, not realizing Harry had felt this way. “But Draco is not his father.” Harry’s emotion-ridden eyes looked back up at Dean. “Just like I am not my father.” Before anyone could truly process this, the confused expressions of his house mates were replaced with a look of loathing directed above his head.

“Potter.” Said a voice in a short tone. Severus Snape, just what Harry needed right now. He then felt terribly guilty at the thought, as he did care about the man and was now taking him for granted as well. He had crossed the very strands of time in order to keep the man alive, for goodness’ sake.

Snape had flicked a look to the other juvenile Gryffindors with poorly hidden disdain before focusing completely on Harry.

“A word in the hallway, if you are quite through regaling your house with mindless drivel.” He said in slight derision. His tone relayed a sense of disinterested impatience, implying he hadn’t just overheard that last bit.

Harry felt heat fill his chest but quietly pushed it down. “Yessir, I’m done.” He murmured, getting up.

“Harry…”Hermione began, her voice more solid in her worry for him, reaching out for his wrist. Ron’s eyes never left Snape’s form.

“It’s fine – “Harry said in a way that clearly conveyed it wasn’t fine in the least, but it was just easier to pretend it was going to be. “You and Ron finish up, you’ll need the energy.” He murmured as he swiveled the other leg over the bench and stood.

“Sometime this century, if you would, Potter.” Snape long-sufferingly griped, before turning on his heel quite confident that Harry would follow without another word. He did, of course.

As Harry’s form retreated from the Great Hall, well within Snape’s wake, Ron caught Malfoy’s sharp grey eyes looking into his from across the way, then to Harry and back at Ron, a look of small concern in his visage. Ron held his gaze a moment before turning back to Hermione who was now in reluctant conversation with the others.

“Just what did that mean, eh?” Oliver pointedly asked the two. “He’s not his father? What’s he goin’ on about with that?”

“He just means that it’s…it’s not right to judge someone based on just who their family is.” Hermione tried to explain.

“Well we aren’t, are we? Draco Malfoy has done up himself a good nasty reputation all on his own.” Seamus countered, a challenge in his eye.

Hermione shared a look with Ron, a desperate sort of helplessness passing between them. Ron decided to speak up.

“I’ll be the first one to admit it, I don’t like Malfoy. He’s a right pompous git when he wants to be, and he knows how to cut someone to the bone with just bloody words…”

“But…?” Percy prompted his little brother.

Ron sighed. “But…so far he’s actually been trying, as best as I can tell. I dunno if it’ll last, really. But it’s a lot easier getting through potions without him starting something, isn’t it?”

“He…he did try to help me, with the rat spleens.” Neville piped up, trembling a bit from the attention his affirmation garnered.

“Whoa, what?” came from Lee.

“That’s right…I saw it too. When Neville was about to put in too many in his potion, Malfoy stopped him and told him the right amount to drop in.” Lavender confirmed, eyes bright from the conversation. “No tricks.”

“Yeah…I did catch the tail-end of that I think.” Dean admitted softly as he seemed to be thinking back on the memory. “Me too.” Seamus also admitted, looking to the other older years who had not been privy to the incident first-hand.

“Maybe the little snake finally learned some manners, then.” Angelina huffed in a humorless laugh.

“And just because Harry is trying to find some common ground, doesn’t mean he completely trusts Malfoy.” Hermione brought them back to the matter at hand, more confident now at where the others stood. “He does not place his trust in others so easily.”

“That’s for damn sure.” Ron gruffed in a tone that was split between admiration and irritation, for reasons unknown to the others.

“All he’s asking – all we’re asking – is that you give us a chance to see how this goes.” Hermione continued.

“And stop hassling him about it – look how little he ate, he doesn’t need to be missing meals.” Ron scolded in uncharacteristic heat, motioning to Harry’s plate which was still there and what little food left behind had barely been touched.

“Is that why he didn’t come to the dorms last night?” Neville asked, his voice stronger now in his concern. Ron raised his brow, having not known Neville had noticed Harry’s absence.

“He had an accident during his detention.” Hermione said a bit quickly. “He was in the hospital wing until this morning.”

“Accident?” Percy questioned suspiciously. “What happened? Aren’t his detentions with Professor Snape this week?”

“How would you know?” Fred and George interjected in unison, feeling irate that Percy was in Harry’s business, even though everyone was at this point in the conversation.

“I can read the bulletin board, obviously.” Percy snapped. “And I’m Head Boy, it’s my job to know.” Oliver rolled his eyes long-sufferlingly, obviously having heard the title announced quite a bit already.

“Yes, it was detention with Snape.” Ron jumped in.

“Bloody hell. He’s brainwashing Potter.” Seamus gasped.

“What!” Lavender also gasped.

“Oh please, that’s not it at all - ” Hermione snapped, tired of this tangent.

“Then what happened?” Dean asked seriously.

Ron and Hermione shared a look before Ron spoke.

“He got accidentally cut by some broken glass, he said.”

“Likely story – sweet Merlin, and we let him go off with Snape!” Oliver almost crowed, putting two-and-two together and assuming Snape had hurt Harry on purpose.

“Calm down, he’s a teacher, he wouldn’t actually physically hurt Harry.” Percy tried, though he looked surprisingly unconvinced by his own words.

“Tell that to Quirrell.” One of the older years piped up.

“Or Lockhart.” Angelina added. “Idiot vanished Harry’s bones in his arm completely last year after that game with Slytherin.” She explained to some firsties who looked absolutely lost.

“Perhaps Harry is working a bit too hard protecting everyone…when he is the one who needs protecting.” A soft, sing-song voice commented, and all in the conversation turned to the direction it came from and saw Luna Lovegood standing beside the table nearest Ginny, Colin and a couple of first years. The older years recognized her as the Ravenclaw girl many in her own house gossiped as being a ‘weird one’. She had been hanging around Harry lately, they had noticed…or had it been the other way around? At any rate, a pair of odd glasses with spirals on the sparkled lenses lay atop the girl’s moonlight hair, and in her hands were a couple of books, one being the Tales of Beedle the Bard, the other being The Muggle Interpretation of Physics.

“Blimey…” Dean sighed, wiping his face with a hand, much as Harry had done earlier. “She’s right.”

It was then that a certain look of determination and a slightly new understanding crossed the faces of those who had heard Luna. She caught Ron and Hermione’s gaze and smiled, if a bit sadly.

- - -

Meanwhile…

Harry let Snape lead him to a well-lit but out of the way alcove just out of sight from the entrance to the Great Hall. He grabbed at his sweater vest front a bit absently, crunching the fabric in his hands as he willed his heart rate to slow to a much more manageable pace.

“Sir?” Harry asked in a neutral tone, looking up at the man. Snape narrowed his eyes.

“Quiet. The Headmaster will join us momentarily.” Snape snapped a bit, checking a watch he had on beneath his overlong sleeve. Harry was again struck by the hodgepodge of muggle and magic that Snape seemed to carry about himself in constant contradiction. It both amazed and intrigued him.

“Your hand.” Snape then said, holding out his own after pulling down his sleeve back over the watch.

“What about my hand?” He responded, confused.

“Idiot. Give it here that I may inspect it.”

“Madam Pomfrey already gave it a look, it’s alright.” Harry said, regretfully making no move to place his hand into Snape’s still waiting one. Harry tried to ensure his tone sounded respectful…but he just really didn’t want Snape seeing to his hand in the better light of day - even if it was the one without a curse scar, it still held marks from his life at Privet Drive, of which Snape had almost stumbled across fully the night before. With everything else going on, he didn’t want to deal with that. Especially as Snape would just as soon as ridicule him for it as look at it, he thought.

Albus Dumbledore walked up to join them just then, and Snape let his hand drop back to his side hidden in his inky black robes.

“Headmaster.” Snape greeted with a slight nod.

“’Lo, Pr’fessor.” Harry smiled in greeting, though it looked fairly weak, it was no less genuine.

“Good morning my boys.” Dumbledore happily greeted back. “I wanted to catch you but for a brief moment, Harry my boy, to see how you’re feeling. Poppy reported you were quite eager to leave her care…”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, yessir. I figured a bit of negotiation was my only hope back to the general public.” Harry laughed, hiking his bag higher on his shoulder. Dumbledore twinkled at the child’s humor. Snape felt something tighten in his chest at hearing Harry’s laugh.

“How very Slytherin of you.” Dumbledore said without hesitation, and a bit of tickled mirth at Harry’s quip. Snape shot Dumbledore a look of incredulity but Harry interrupted his thoughts when he said,

“Heh, yessir. Don’t let Ron hear ya say that though.” Harry laughed it off a bit as he regarded the elder wizard.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley does have quite the house spirit about him doesn’t he?” Dumbledore replied in a jolly way, he having a fondness with his own ties to Gryffindor house.

“Can we get on with it?” Snape growled, making Harry’s face fall as he turned from Dumbledore to Snape.

Dumbledore pursed his lips at his Potions Master before looking back down at Harry.

“Yes, well….Harry, I had Professor Snape fetch you for a moment to see how you were feeling –“ Harry here had to stop himself from a great giggle, thinking it would be inappropriate even though the thought of Snape asking him how he was feeling was possibly the most ridiculous thing he’d heard all day.

“Potter refused my order to relinquish his grubby little hand so that I could look it over.” Snape was quick to explain, regarding Harry with glittering eyes.

“My hands aren’t grubby!” while not an exclamation, it was close to it. “And they’re not little.” Harry added as an afterthought.

“Cease this racket.” Snape snapped back. “And give me your hand!”

Dumbledore watched in twinkling amusement.

“Y’know, you’d catch more flies with honey.” Harry pointed out, again making no move to comply with Snape’s order.

Snape narrowed his eyes once again, dangerously so. Dumbledore, though, laughed outright at Harry’s quip.

“Insolence. Five points from Gryffindor.” Snape ground out. Harry looked terribly put out then, and sucked his teeth before saying,

“Now hold on, that’s not fair – “ Harry huffed, surprising Snape by his attitude change. Harry felt more insult from the assumption he had small dirty hands than losing his house points, though both did seem to offend him.

“Severus, now really – “ Dumbledore pouted just as the tinkling of rubies in the house point counter for Gryffindor down the way sounded, confirming the loss.

“Merlin, losing points this early –” Lupin commented as he approached the trio, then spotting Harry between them, “-ah, I see.” He smiled warmly at Harry, after giving Snape an unfathomable sidelong glance.

“Good morning, Harry.” Lupin greeted, joining them and stopping to stand between Dumbledore and Snape, Harry sandwiched between the two on the other side.

Harry, of course, brightened considerably upon seeing Lupin and cheered exponentially. “G’morning, sir! How are you?”

Before Lupin could reply, Snape made to stomp on the pleasantries – and he told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that he hated how obviously happy Lupin’s mere presence made the boy.

“The question at hand, Potter, is how you are feeling, loathe as I am to ask.” Snape interrupted whatever Lupin was going to reply to Harry.

“If you’d give me a nano-second, sir,” Harry chuckled in good nature, surprising the three older wizards. Harry couldn’t help it though, on the one hand it really did hurt a little to constantly hear Snape belittle him at every turn, but on the other…it was oddly familiar. Like coming home.

To be perfectly honest, this entire exchange was a happy reprieve from the conversation he had just left.

“I feel fine.” Harry said with half-lidded eyes, regarding Snape with a sort of teasing warmth that baffled Lupin and Dumbledore. Even Snape had to admit in the back of his mind that the reaction was not one he had expected. “I’m fine, my hand is fine, everything is okie-dokie.” Harry continued with a shrug.

“The resilience of children.” Dumbledore remarked softly, as if mostly to himself, as he looked at Harry with a grandfatherly admiration and affection.

“Foolhardiness is more like. Little runt, you could have bled to death.” Snape griped, folding his arms.

“Severus!” Lupin and Dumbledore gasped in shock at his name-calling.

“Oiy, don’t talk so loud professor, you’re libel to get it spread around, and that’s the last thing I need, is a bunch of firsties thinking I almost died or something.” Harry huffed in exasperation as he looked around for possible classmates nearby, the insults rolling off his back easier now as his mood was lifting despite his light argument with Snape. Snape on the other hand looked taken aback by the familiarity with which Harry addressed him.

“Anyway,” Harry continued before Snape could rebuke him once again for cheek, “It was probably some sleep deprived hallucination.”

Lupin’s smile waned a bit hearing that, whereas Snape’s own frown deepened.

“Harry, while it is good to hear you feel well enough, I wanted to extend the courtesy of allowing you to postpone the placement exams.” Dumbledore said after a beat.

Harry shifted his weight as he thought on it, before sneaking a look at Snape who was looking down his nose at him like he was a bug. Disdain and clear expectation of Harry to take advantage of the offer lay in his dark glittery eyes and it made the boy wizard set his jaw and say with much certainty,

“No thank you, sir. I’ll be as ready as I’ll ever be, I reckon.”

Snape scoffed under his breath, and Lupin actually glared a dagger or two the man’s way.

“Are you sure, Harry? What do you think, Remus?” Dumbledore asked. The sunlight from the morning had finally begun to filter to their part of the hall from the windows above and the silver thread that wove to make the stars and moons on Dumbledore’s current set of robes glittered beautifully in the yellow light. He looked to Lupin for his input, moving just so and blinding both Harry and Snape with the resulting glittery reflection. Harry smirked, amused by it as he moved a touch out of the light’s reflective path. Snape quickly followed suit, having also been caught in the bright display.

“It was a nasty accident but…I don’t see why Harry couldn’t sit for a few tests, if he chooses to do so.” Lupin commented, an arm folded beneath his other elbow as he touched his chin as he thought it out. Harry caught Snape rolling his eyes at the man when he wasn’t looking.

“Still sound agreeable, Harry?” Dumbledore asked one last time.

“Yessir, it’s fine.” Harry softly smiled, a faint blush gracing his features at the feeling of being worried over, even in this small runabout way.

Dumbledore looked unconvinced but let it drop. Instead he decided to impart a new bit of instruction for the little Gryffindor.

“Very well. I still want you to drop by Madam Pomfrey’s after your last class today. I believe it’s yours, Remus, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re correct, Albus. I have Gryffindor’s Third Years this afternoon.” Remus confirmed helpfully.

“Good. Now then, Harry my boy, I want you to go straight to the hospital wing after DADA and have Poppy look you over one last time, to ensure your good bill of health.” Dumbledore gently ordered, looking over his spectacles at Harry with a sort of seriousness in his sapphire eyes.

Without hesitation that he would later kick himself for, Harry immediately promised he would go. There was something compelling about the elder wizard that Harry could never outgrow, he mindfully decided. And with the memories he had and lingering pain he held from them, Harry couldn’t help but feel the need to not disappoint the old wizard.

“Do not dawdle, Potter. You still have detention with me this evening. I suggest you ensure you are not late. Again.” Snape said in a rather intimidating voice. But Harry just regarded him blankly.

“Yessir.”

Snape sniffed then bid Dumbledore a short farewell nod before sweeping away entirely in a flood of black, on his way down to the dungeons.

Harry let out a breath. “Scary, isn’t he?” The two remaining men looked down at him quizzically as his tone was leaning more into admiration than fear. “Brilliant, but scary.” Harry smiled as he repeated Ron’s favorite phrase, a bit lost in his own thoughts. Lupin blinked and Dumbledore’s gaze softened.

“OH SHOOT!” Harry smacked his forehead right where his lighting scar was, startling both men with his sudden outburst and shaking them out of their thoughts. “Herbology! I’m gonna be late – was that all you needed sir?” He directed to Dumbledore.

“Oh, ah – yes, m’boy. Run along then! Give my best to Pomona.” Dumbledore quickly recovered, waving an old wrinkling hand at Harry. Harry stared a beat too long at it to appear normal but the elderly wizard shook off the note; there was nothing interesting about his right hand, after all.

“See you!” Harry waved, looking a bit tired but smiling nonetheless. When his eyes met Lupin’s for a brief moment as he left, Lupin felt his heart pull, finding himself already missing the thirteen year old.

- - -

Harry was on his way out the main doorway which held a path that led to the gardens and herbology greenhouses when Ron, Hermione and Draco joined him from leaning on the side of the castle outside.

“Oh – I didn’t mean to make you guys wait up for me.” Harry smiled wanely, tucking his hands into his robes.

“Please, after that fiasco I witnessed in the Great Hall, do you really think I’d let you prance about unguarded?” Draco huffed incredulously.

Harry looked totally confused. “What?”

“He saw our table ganging up on you before you left with Snape – speaking of, what’d the bloody old bat want this time? To tell you to bring your own toothbrush to clean out his sludgebin with tonight?” Ron said.

Harry rolled his eyes. “No – he was asking how I was this morning, after the accident and all.”

Hermione, skipping a bit happily now that they were taking a leisurely pace outside in the sunshine, almost tripped upon hearing this. “He what?”

“Yeah, that’s really weird, actually.” Even Draco looked immediately concerned.

“Calm down,” Harry sighed, his trainers sliding a bit along the dirt rock path that twisted along towards the greenhouses. “It wasn’t his idea, he made that abundantly clear. Dumbledore made him do it.”

Draco looked visibly relieved. Ron looked pensive.

“Are we still on for our exams later?” Hermione asked, intuition kicking in.

“Yeah, Dumbledore wanted to give me extra time but I saw Snape turn right sour at the suggestion so I told them it was fine, I’d go ahead with it today.”

“That sounds more like him.” Draco muttered. Ron mumbled agreement.

“Harry, you shouldn’t let your pride get in the way of your health – it did sound like a pretty awful experience. If it weren’t for the fact we need to complete this mission – “ Hermione added, their group passing by a tiny frog dancing atop a mushroom stalk. Harry smiled at it before turning to look at his friend as she continued.

“ – I would have insisted as well that you stay in that hospital bed for longer than you did.” She huffed a  sigh. “I hate we have to make compromises like this already. Your well-being should take priority.”

Harry put an arm ‘round her shoulders. “’Mione, look…it’s okay. We all knew the risks, that we need to make sacrifices. This one is a small one compared to what I’m used to.”

“Doesn’t make it okay, though.” Ron countered, but in a conceding tone.

“Speaking of…” Draco gently put a hand on Harry’s shoulder to stop his gait. Harry turned to face him.

“What exactly happened last night at your detention? Ron and Hermione said you got hurt?” Draco asked solemnly, and Hermione and Ron shared a look of bafflement as he hadn’t ever truly referred to them by their given names, not genuinely. Plus, his grey-sharp eyes held a sort of intense concern, which was also new to see on a Malfoy’s visage.

At least in their company.

“An accident, that’s all.”

“You were in the hospital wing. They said you told them that Lupin and Snape were concerned about a curse – “

“It was just precaution, since I got a bit out of it. I think…” Harry sighed, knowing his friends were listening intently. He looked away towards the dancing frog as Draco’s eyes reminded him of Sirius just then. Picking up a stray dandelion he plucked it and fiddled with it in his hands as he spoke. “…with the nightmares and the stress of coming back, it’s just catching up on me is all. On all of us, I’m sure. I just got unlucky enough to have an episode in front of Snape.” Harry set the flower of the dandelion atop the dancing frog’s head, making him a little yellow hat. The frog seemed elated at the gift. Draco watched him with worry but seemed to accept Harry’s explanation.

“Aright then. Let me know if you need me.” Draco directed mostly to Ron and Hermione, the unspoken meaning passing between them to look after Harry especially well today.

“We will, Draco. Go on then, we’re already late.” Harry smiled.

Draco waved a hand in goodbye then made his way back up the path to the main entrance. Harry squinted ahead and saw a blur that looked suspiciously like Theodore Knott vanish from the doorway and back into the castle.

- - -

“I’m sorry, you know.” Ron muttered after Professor Sprout had explained today’s lesson and demonstration. They were harvesting puffapods today – and though Sprout had a demo plant from which she used to teach with in the greenhouses, they were now on-trek to Hagrid’s, where the stock plants they were to harvest from were rooted. Hermione and Neville were walking behind them a few paces back, talking happily about the applications of the pods. Up front were a few more Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Harry eyed his housemates suspiciously, as they had been unusually silent this class if, at least, polite to him.

“Is this about breakfast?” Harry muttered back.

“Yeah. Reckon I’ve a knack for really putting my foot in it.”

“S’alright, mate. I know you have problems with Draco. Our whole house does. I used to…” he sighed as they reached a garden area Hagrid presumably kept up for himself as much as for Sprout beside the outer gate of his home’s fence.

“I think they’re not as angry with you anymore as, well…worried for you, now.” Ron reluctantly admitted, not too keen to hear Harry’s reaction about this new development. He wasn’t sure if he’d be joyed or upset.

“Wait, what? What for?”

And so Ron explained as briefly and softly as he could about what happened after Harry had left their table; that Luna had even stepped in to defend Harry, in a way. Harry took this information in as they knelt by a puffapod bush Hermione had picked just by a corner of the small stone wall surrounding the edge of the property. She and Neville worked on one side, Harry and Ron on the other. Now was probably not the best time to ask for more details, and Harry wasn’t terribly sure he wanted them anyway. Everything was getting so confusing. He also felt guilt in the way Ginny looked when Dean had mentioned her ordeal in the Chamber. He wondered if she would think his friendship with Draco was a sort of betrayal, as the others likely still did. It made his heart hurt.

“Lo, Harry. Ron.” Greeted Justin as he and Ernie passed by them to the next bush over. Theirs had more purple flowers than pink pods, but was larger in size. And, had a hair of shade from the small apple tree growing right beside it. Harry gazed up at the sunshine, squinting. It was getting quite bright and hot this morning. He decided to shirk his outer robes before settling in with his spelled basket to gather his pods as the rest of the children were doing.

“Morning.” Ron had muttered in reply to the other two boys, a bit surprised at their greeting.

Hagrid, apparently off this period, had engaged Sprout in a spot of chitchat as they looked after the students busily plucking and carefully stowing away their pods.

“How many were we supposed to get?” Ron asked Hermione.

“Fifteen, if I’m not mistaken.” She promptly replied.

“Hermione I doubt you’ve ever been mistaken.” Neville said in compliment, a faint blush n his cheeks for admitting so. The bushy-haired witch smiled warmly in return.

“These buggers are stubborn….” Ron growled a bit at the stem he was trying to twist off to retrieve a pod.

Harry huffed a chuckle as Neville scooted near them to show Ron how he needed to pinch first then twist clockwise. Harry watched in more relaxed curiosity as Neville and Ron went through the process a couple more times before Ron was able to expertly pinch and twist off his own pod. Neville actually clapped, and Ron looked embarrassed but pleased with the mini-lesson. Harry felt a gentle tickle on his hand then, and upon looking down a chill went through his stomach before relief inserted itself upon recognition. It was a tiny green garden snake. It had big eyes but a blunt little head and nose.  It again flickered its tongue on Harry’s hand, before looking up at the boy.

“Thou sssssmellest…different. Thou be-est not-ssssnake.” The snake hissed at him, looking at him in curiosity.

“That’ssss true. Odd way of putting it though.” Harry replied without thinking, mesmerized by the sweet little creature and his odd accent. He had no idea some snakes could have them.

“Thou sssspeakest…art thou an sssspeaker?” the snake asked, tilting his head up higher.

“I…am…I ssssuppose.” Harry replied with a bit of falter in his voice as the realization hit home that he was speaking with a snake – he was still a Speaker…a Parselmouth.

“What are you – is that a snake?” Ron asked craning his neck about the pods and flowers and seeing the green little coil settled at Harry’s knees. The red-head’s face paled.

“A snake? Where – “ Neville commented a bit in a controlled panic before scooching to see it as well, with Hermione following suit. Hermione also paled considerably.

“Did you talk to it?” she whispered.

Harry didn’t speak for a beat, just staring back at her in slight panic.

“Harry. Did you talk to it?” Ron repeated the question. Neville looked at them both confusedly. He didn’t like snakes either but what was wrong with Harry talking to it? They all knew he could, now. No big deal, he thought.

“…Yes.” Harry resolutely replied, concentrating to ensure it came out in English and not Parseltongue.

Hermione’s eyes welled up in tears before she jumped up, spilling a few of her pods which sprang up instantly, tripping Ron who had tried to get up and catch her before she left. She ran away, not stopping as the boys in her group called out her name.

Sprout immediately descended upon them, looking quite in a tizzy.

“What’s happened? What’s happened?” she asked quickly, eyes darting to them each as if trying to instantly figure out why one of her star pupils had just run away sobbing.

“Oiy, what did you say lot to Hermione?” One of the girls asked, a few feet away at another bush. It was Lavender.

“The boys were being mean to Hermione!” Parvati exclaimed in an accusatory huff.

“We was not!” Ron shouted back. Sprout clapped her hands together to settle the growing chaos.

“None of this! You three! What happened? Why is Hermione upset? Did she get hurt?”

Harry and Ron shared a panicked look, and in their silence Neville answered.

“She got upset when Harry said he talked with a snake he found. But I dunno why that’d upset her…”

Harry looked back to Ron with even more panic. Ron looked at their audience – their class comprising both Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs as well as Hagrid – and caught sight of Lavender in particular. A quick, if flimsy, idea came to him.

“It was a dream!” Ron blurted out. Sprout jumped at the outburst.

“Pardon?” Sprout spluttered. Harry tilted his head in quiet disbelief.

“Ah-er, a nightmare really…of Harry…and a snake…and um…I guess she was afraid it would come true…”

Lavender and Parvati turned to each other in surprise.

“Oh dear.” Sprout muttered, looking back to the way Hermione had fled. The others had begun to whisper amongst themselves.

“I better go see if the poor dear is alright.” Her kind face now had a motherly determination about it, preparing to comfort the little lion.

“I want to come, if that’s alright.” Ron said, standing up and handing his and Hermione’s baskets to Neville.

Sprout looked in his eyes searching for something. “Very well, Mr Weasley. Mr Longbottom I’m afraid I must lean on you to ensure the others are able to harvest what they need while I’m gone.” She looked to Hagrid who had by now joined them. “Hagrid, be a dear please and look after the children while I’m gone. I shouldn’t be too long.”

And just like that, they were gone. But not before Ron gave Harry a firm squeeze to his shoulder as he passed, the look in his eyes saying volumes that words could not in that moment. Harry looked down at his basket, six little pods strewn about in the bottom, the container spelled to not encourage sprouts from the eager little things.

The little green snake, in all the commotion, had disappeared.