If Harry stood on his tiptoes, he could just see the bay out of the high basement window. Of course Dudley could see it from his new second story bedroom, and Aunt Petunia could see it through the back living room window... even Uncle Vernon could see it through the windows in the garage.

Harry stepped down off of the dusty stool he'd been standing on, and wished that his basement window wasn't rusted shut so that he could get some of the cool sea air into the dank, dark room. It wasn't really a room, just the basement, although Harry had decided that moving did have its advantages, because the basement was massively larger than his cupboard under the stairs had been. If not for the lack of view and windows, Harry considered himself very lucky actually, because his new ‘room' was five times the size of Dudley's. Of course there were boxes piled up in one corner, and Harry had already run out into the backyard to set several rats free, but still... he had leg room here, even if he did still sleep on a cot.

Just before Harry had come home from his fourth year at Hogwarts, Grunning's had transferred Uncle Vernon to oversee its new facility in Swanage, about three hours south of London, and so Harry had come back to Four Privet Drive to find the house packed into boxes waiting for him to load into the large moving van the Dursleys had rented. That was yesterday. Today they were in Swanage moving into the new house on Victoria Road.

Dust fell from the ceiling into Harry's hair as Dudley purposefully jumped about right above him in the living room, and Harry coughed, shaking his hair out. Perhaps he could find a spare sheet and somehow attach it to the ceiling over his cot to keep the dust away, he thought.

Upstairs he could hear Aunt Petunia shouting for him, so he hurried up the cracking concrete stairs and began moving boxes again and shifting furniture to where she wanted it. It was almost eight o'clock by the time Harry had the majority of the house unpacked (including Dudley's room), and had fixed them all dinner while the Dursleys had settled in front of the telly. Harry had been lucky Uncle Vernon had let him nab a big hunk of cheese from the table after he was finished, and didn't want to risk it being taken away, so he moved instead outside to the front of the house, feeling he would like some cool air before retreating to the warm basement for the night.

As Harry sat on the front step eating his cheese, he thought that perhaps this summer would be better than the last because Dudley had no friends here to help him Harry hunt and gang up on him. Just as he took his last bite a boy with a crew cut rode up on his bicycle and stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house.

"Who are yeh then?"

"Harry," he said, not getting up.

"'An what are yeh doin' in tha' house?"

"Just moved in."

The boy gave him a sneer, though not anything close to the one Draco would have managed for him.

"Well don' expect teh be goin' teh my school in the fall yeh wanker. Ain't got no room fer the likes of yeh."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, irritated. There really was no reason to be rude about it, was there? "I go to private school. So does my cousin."

"I didn' ask abou' yer cousin did I?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry finally stood up. "Well, I'd say it's been nice meeting you, but it really hasn't. I'll be going now."

"Wait."

Harry turned again to look at the boy on the bike. For a brief moment jealousy passed through Harry that the boy had a bike and Harry didn't, even though the paint was all scratched up and one of the pedals looked like it was going to fall off.

"What?"

"Watch out fer the bloke next door. He's a right mean one. Only comes ‘ere in the summer," and then the boy rode off.

Harry watched as the boy rode down the street and turned a corner, disappearing from view. Well, it wasn't a great start to his summer, but it could have been worse... he could have been stuffed into his cupboard right now or still facing many hours of grueling detentions with Snape as he had for the last week of school that year. At least it would be a Snape-free summer.

Deciding that he'd had enough of the neighbors already, Harry decided to go back down to his basement to put up a sheet over his bed, but as soon as he went through the front door, aunt Petunia was yelling at him for talking to ‘neighborhood thugs'. Uncle Vernon came into the entryway to see what the issue was and narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"Listen here boy," he said, jamming his thick stubby finger into Harry's chest hard enough to hurt. "I'll have none of your nonsense here. This is a new start for Petunia and Dudley and I, and the last thing we need is you causing all sorts of neighborhood trouble. I'll have your hide boy, mark my words."

"Yes uncle Vernon," Harry said in a drone like voice. He knew he'd better obey because Vernon did not make empty threats. Last summer he'd spent agonizing weeks with a bruised, aching body in his cupboard or doing grueling chores just because Piers and Dudley had lied about him and said the cigarettes aunt Petunia had found were Harry's. He didn't want a repeat of that. If this was a new start for the Dursleys, he had no idea what it was for him. Certainly they wouldn't just forget their feelings towards him just because they were in a new city in a new house.

* * *

Severus Snape sighed when he saw the moving van sitting in front of the house next door. He'd been looking forward to going home for the summer but now he had to worry about irritating new neighbors. Keeping the porch light off he entered his dark home and threw his keys onto the hallway table. The house smelled like dust because he hadn't been here since just before Christmas when he'd come back to retrieve a book he'd wanted.

Severus hated neighbors. The last ones he'd had had been pompous, stuck up socialites that believed they were better than everyone else. The fact that he owned a nice house on the bay seemed to affront them. He was willing to bet that the next bunch of Muggles would be just as bad. He hoped they didn't have children. That would be even worse.

Feeling tired from his end of the year grading and journey home, Severus went upstairs and turned on the bedroom lamp before sitting down on the edge of his bed and putting a hand up to his face. It had been a long term, and that blasted Potter brat and the tournament hadn't made it any easier. And then the child had the audacity to think that rules would be bent just for him, and forced Severus to give him a week long detention right at the end of term.

Sighing he lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was good to be home. THUMP. Severus frowned. What was that? It hadn't come from inside the house. CRASH.

Standing up, Severus went back into the hallway and into the next room, the one with a window facing the new neighbors. He waited in the darkness momentarily before he heard shouting. So it was them. He hoped a bunch of uppity, rich hooligans hadn't moved in. He'd hate to have to go back to Hogwarts just to get away from more children. There was another loud THUMP and one last shout before the house next door fell silent once more. Well, he thought, irritated that they were already disrupting his only peaceful time of the year. He went back to his room where he swallowed a headache potion and promptly went to bed before he could find himself irritated by the neighbors for a third time that night.

The next morning, Severus pulled a curtain back slightly to stare out the window at the neighbor's house as he sipped his hot coffee. So they did have children... one big fat one to be exact. He bet the boy was the cause of all the ruckus last night, probably throwing a tantrum. Hating the feeling of being the ‘nosy' neighbor, he let the curtain fall closed and sat down at his kitchen table. There was a house a few blocks over that was still on the bay and had just gone up for sale. It had a bigger back yard, perhaps he'd go look at that. It's biggest advantage was that there was some distance between that house and its neighbors on either side, and he knew for a fact that one of the neighbors was a little old woman. Or maybe he'd just stick around here, in the first home he'd ever owned outside of Spinner's End, and see if his new neighbors were as obnoxious as he thought they were.

* * *

Harry was watching the neighborhood teens again. He was sure they had noticed him by now, skulking a few blocks down the street under the lamp post each night after the Dursleys had gone to bed. Harry wondered if these boys were old enough to be out on their own, or if their parents just didn't care about them if they were out this late. So long as Harry came in unnoticed (he'd figured out how to get his basement window open enough for him to climb out onto the small side lawn), then the Dursleys didn't care either. They refused to come down into his ‘filthy' room, and so he hadn't been caught yet.

After three days of cleaning, unpacking and moving heavy boxes, and weeding the backyard in the hopes that he'd be fed, Harry was hungry. He supposed that's what had prompted him to sneak out again and again to watch the neighborhood boys. He didn't have Hedwig to send off to Ron and Hermione to ask for food, not that he would, it was too embarrassing, and the Dursleys had gone as far as putting a lock on the refrigerator to enforce his ‘punishment'.

As if no food for three days hadn't been punishment enough, uncle Vernon had given him a good thrashing, if for no other reason than just to prove a point, or perhaps it was a preemptive punishment. Whatever the cause, it made Harry want to leave the house whenever he could. Maybe tailing the other neighborhood boys to their street corner every night was giving Harry a sense of freedom he didn't have when he was with the Dursleys.

Harry's eyes came into focus under the streetlamp just in time to see the three boys down the street staring at him, and the taller of the three with a red sideways cap giving him an upward nod. He'd been spotted. He was surprised they hadn't seen him before, or maybe they had and had just been ignoring him.

Harry wasn't sure if they wanted trouble or not, but the last thing he needed was a thrashing from them as well, so he turned and walked away. He didn't give a look behind him to see if they followed until he'd turned the corner and was down the next street a ways. Still not wanting to return back to his hot basement, Harry went down a narrow alley between two rows of houses, and continued walking until he'd made it out of the neighborhood and into town where he could possibly find something to eat. There had to be someplace still open. Maybe he could wait around by the dumpsters until they threw out something fresh. He shuddered, not wanting to think of the ‘five second rule' but he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't go all summer without something to eat, could he? No.

What were his other alternatives? He supposed that if the Dursleys didn't expect him to work all day that he could get a job. Maybe someone would take him on for a night time shift. His aunt and uncle usually left him alone at seven o'clock after he'd finished the dinner dishes and the rest of his evening chores. Stopping in front of a dark window, Harry eyed the black eye he had and wondered if anyone would hire a teenager who looked like he'd been fighting. It was too bad that nobody took sickles and Galleons for payment because he had a pocketful of those left from his time in the wizarding world.

He supposed another option would be to just run away, but he'd been warned about sticking close to the Dursleys or else his mother's magic on their home would wear off. What if he just ran off to Hogwarts?

Watching his reflection as he scrunched up his nose in the window, he decided that it probably wasn't a good option. He didn't know if anyone stayed at Hogwarts over the summer, so there was no guarantee he'd be safe there from Voldemort, even if he did know how to get to the castle. He really would rather have nothing to do with the wizarding world at all right now, now that he thought about it. Thinking about anything that had to do with magic or Cedric made him feel sick.

Harry walked along the streets until he came to a diner that was open late. He stood in front of it for several minutes with his hands in his pockets, trying to figure out what he could say to the manager inside to get himself a job. Finally he pushed open the door and tried to ignore the weary look of the lone waitress, and stares of the three patrons, each sitting alone at their own separate tables.

"Can I talk to the manager?" Harry asked the waitress.

"What for? I ain't seen you in here before. You got no bad service to complain about."

"I was going to ask for a job," Harry said.

"What are you, fourteen?" She smirked.

"Fifteen and I'll be sixteen next month," Harry lied, taking his hands out of his pockets now.

"Yeah, and you think he wants a troublemaker like you working in here? Get real."

Harry let out a deep breath. "I'm a hard worker. I'll clean up or whatever he wants."

She stuck her thumb out and towards the door. "Get lost. Don't come back until you have some money to pay for service."

Harry narrowed his eyes and as he turned and walked back to the door, he muttered loudly, "Kind of hard to do without a job." A little angry, he tossed open the door and walked back out into the cool night air.

After another twenty minutes, and three more turn-downs, Harry was feeling dejected. It was really beginning to look as if he wasn't going to get anything to eat at all this summer. Maybe they'd just have to send a search party out for him when he didn't turn up back at school, and they'd never find him because the Dursleys had moved, and he'd be buried in the backyard or dumped into the bay.

"Been fightin'?"

Harry turned to spy a girl in her twenties smoking a cigarette a few feet behind him. He hadn't even noticed her as he'd passed or the cafe she was standing outside.

"No," Harry said, hands back in his pockets now.

"Well yer skulkin' and yeh got a nice shiner."

He shrugged. "Haven't been fighting," was all he could say. He'd never told Ron or Hermione about his family and had no reason to tell some stranger on the street.

"But yeh are skulkin'."

"I was out looking for a night job," Harry said. "Got turned down three times." He lifted his hand to motion back down the long curving street to indicate the other late night establishments.

"I expect it was the skulkin'."

"Ok," Harry said, "I get it. You can stop now."

"Now how yeh expect teh get a job bein' all moody like that?"

Harry sighed. "Guess I won't. Just wanted some money to eat was all."

"How old are yeh then?"

"I'll be sixteen next month," Harry lied again.

She looked him up and down. "Mind washin' dishes and takin' out trash?"

"No." He took his hands back out of his pockets. "Is there a job you know of?"

"Right here. The manager is my brother and I'm tired of takin' out the rubbish."

"I- can have the job then?"

"Seven nights a week, eight teh midnight. Yeh start tonight." She took off her green apron and tossed it at Harry.

"Put that on, and try teh wear somethin' nicer when yeh come tomorrow night."

Harry put it on over his head and tied it in the back in disbelief at his luck as he followed her inside. He was also surprised at how easy the work was and that he was allowed a ten minute break before he was released an hour and half later at midnight. He wouldn't get paid until next week, but Addy had turned away purposely while he took a couple of day old pastries from the display and a bottle of juice.

"Yeh don't get tips busboy," she said. "So I'll let yeh take that tonight."

Thinking he ought to act like the other Muggle boys in the neighborhood somehow, he gave her a single upward nod before taking off his apron and hanging it on the hook behind the counter, and also thanking her for the job before walking out. He ate the two pastries hungrily on his way home, hoping his stomach didn't rebel.

"Steal those, did you?" the rude waitress from the first restaurant shouted at him from across the street as he passed her on her break.

"Nope," Harry shouted. "Got a job, no thanks to you."

"Watch yourself *ned," she said, giving him a rude gesture which he didn't return. "Better not come back to our restaurant."

"No worries there," Harry mumbled. They'd probably spit in his food if he did.

* * *

If it weren't for the need to rise early at Hogwarts, Severus would have been a night owl year round. He knew what his students said about him being a vampire because of his pale skin and tendency to stalk the grounds at night, but he'd done nothing to dissuade the notion. The truth was, he liked taking walks through the dark streets in the cool night air, wandering through the woods under a full moon looking for grove berries and moon fruit, and staying up late with a good book and a cup of coffee. Coffee was another truth about Severus Snape. He supposed he could have lived without it, but he just didn't want to. On his late night strolls, it pleased him to wander into one cafe or another to get a steaming drink that would keep him awake for the rest of the night. It was only too bad that the Hogwarts house elves didn't make coffee like the Muggles did it. True, he could probably make his own cheaper at home, but that was besides the point. He liked being out, and if coffee happened to be ‘out there' somewhere, then it was on his way.

There was no place in particular that he liked best, so he had no specific destination as he strolled down the quiet street lit by dim street lamps. His mind was on nothing specific as he wandered, just reveling in the freedom of being on his own away from troublesome students and raging teenage hormones, when a shout down the street brought his attention back. It was some waitress shouting across the street at a dark figure with a hood up over his head. It disturbed him that he hadn't noticed that he'd been following the figure before, though the person was a good ways down the street.

"You're a nasty blighter!" the waitress shouted, followed by a rude gesture. Severus frowned, wondering what the other person had done to make her temper flare. As far as he could tell the person hadn't just come out of the restaurant.

"You're no peach either!"

Severus froze, and shivers ran down his spine in the cool night air as he stared down the street at the dark figure. He could have sworn it was Potter's voice. No, no it couldn't have been. He began walking again. Potter lived in a suburb up North... in Little Whinging wasn't it? No, it couldn't have been Potter. He listened as the woman shouted across the street again.

"I'll call the police if I keep seein' yeh stalkin' past here!"

The teen lifted his arm in a wave and said, "Ok!" and Severus growled. It sounded like the arrogant tone Potter usually strutted around with. Damn. He picked up his pace a little. If the brat had run away or some other nonsense then it was his duty as an Order member to follow him and drag him back to where his sorry rear end was supposed to be. It was only another few minutes before the boy lowered his hoodie to reveal jet black hair before pushing open the door to a much newer looking cafe, one Severus hadn't been to since around Christmas.

Severus wanted to know more about what the brat was doing here before he revealed himself. If he could prove something to the Headmaster then he might get some leeway to discipline the brat more strictly during the next school year, or better yet, get him transferred to some other school. He'd asked the Headmaster at least once a year to put the brat in Durmstrang or Beaxbatons, ‘for his own good,' he'd told the Headmaster, but Albus hadn't bought it.

From within his robe Severus pulled an emergency phial of ‘notice-me-not' and swallowed the purple potion, knowing it would transform him temporarily into someone else much as Polyjuice did. The difference was that this potion lasted for less than half an hour and didn't hurt to take. With his new look set in place, Severus pushed open the door to the cafe and went inside, eyes scanning for Potter, who was nowhere to be found. He scowled. The brat was up to something.

"What can I get yeh?" the young woman behind the counter asked. He knew from brief conversation with her during previous visits that her brother managed this place. With the number of tattoos and piercings she had, he was surprised she was still allowed to work here.

"Coffee, black." He sat down and waited for his drink to be brought to the table. There was only one other patron, a thirty something man with thick square glasses who was working on a Muggle computing device at the table across the small room. He didn't seem to notice that anyone else had come in.

Just as the waitress brought his coffee to the table and he handed her a Muggle note to pay for it, he spotted Potter coming out from the back with a stained white apron on over his gray hoodie and a ripped up pair of jeans. He was carrying a gray bus boy tub. It took a few moments for Severus to realize that Potter worked there because he'd been busy criticizing the boy's attire in his head.

"Again Harry?"

Harry turned to her and for the first time Severus saw his face. His left eye looked like it was just healing from a black eye and the right had a fresh black eye. There was also a small bruise near one ear.

He shrugged in response to her.

"Why do yeh stay there?"

"Don't know what you're talking about," he said quietly, and he reached down behind the counter to pick up a white rag and spray bottle and then proceeded to wipe down the counter.

"Well who yeh been fightin' then?"

"Nobody," Harry said, apparently determined to scrub the countertop clean.

She put her hands on her hips. "Every couple a days yeh come in with a new shiner or somethin'. Yeh gotta be fightin' somebody. I seen those boys on bikes hollerin' at yeh after yeh leave work some nights."

He shrugged again.

"Fine, fine, don' tell me. There's only one pastry left though, and yeh better hope a customer don' buy it like they did las' night." She pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and disappeared through a door into the back, probably on a break. Potter kept scrubbing.

Severus was surprised the brat would take a job at all. He hardly worked for anything at school that didn't involve Quidditch and had a vault full of gold under Gringotts to last him until he got out of school. No, the spoiled brat wouldn't work unless he had ulterior motives.

For all Severus saw though, Harry worked hard scrubbing the counters, mopping the floor, washing the front windows and door, washing dishes, and bringing a second and third coffee to the man working at the other table.

Severus had had to swallow three more of his ‘notice-me-not' potions and Addy had gone on a second break before it looked like the boy's shift might be coming to an end soon. He was out of potion, and feeling like Potter had ruined his night already, he pulled out his wand to speed things along and perhaps secure his escape through the front door unnoticed since the potion would be wearing off soon anyway. Potter had just brought the man another coffee, one he'd made himself with a lot of caramel and other flavor ruining things in it. Severus enchanted something silently under his breath and a few moments later the man's face began to turn pale and he put his hand up over his mouth.

At a gagging noise, Harry turned around just in time to see the man throw up all over the floor next to his little square table.

"Ugh," the man said, obviously not feeling well. "What did you put in my coffee?"

"I- I'm so sorry," Harry said, a little panic in his voice. "I just started here a couple of weeks ago. I haven't made very many coffees yet."

To Severus' surprise the boy immediately got on his hands and knees with a trash can and towel and began mopping up the sick while the man looked away, obviously embarrassed. When he was done he stood and apologized profusely again.

"Here," Harry said, "have the last pastry. They're really good."

The man eyed the pastry doubtfully. "Did you help make it?"

Harry shook his head and looked embarrassed again as he turned red. "No, I promise. Addy makes them fresh each morning."

He reached out and took the pastry and took a bite out of it before looking as if he was going to be sick and throwing it into the trash can that Harry still held. Severus tried to discern the look that washed over Potter's face as he stared into the trash at the pastry, but decided in the end that it was disappointment. Well, the brat was already getting paid wasn't he?

"Sorry," the man said. "I think I'll just call it a night." He packed up his laptop and hurried out of the cafe. Severus used this opportunity to leave as well, and waited down the street to see if he could follow the boy at a distance to see where he would go. It was nearly midnight and his potion would wear off in fifteen minutes.

Five minutes later, Potter came out of the cafe with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He walked back down the street, and the waitress from the diner was waiting for him it seemed.

"Get fired yet yeh little *chav?"

Potter didn't answer and she shouted at his back, "I better not catch yeh goin' through our rubbish bins again! I know it was you!"

Severus quickened his pace to match Potter's as he ducked into an alley, and was surprised and baffled to find that Potter was going rubbish bin to rubbish bin and looking through each one. He seemed dejected each time he moved on to the next. Finally, after seven, he pulled something out, and Severus squinted from the shadow he stood in to see a hard little bread roll. What in the- he was tempted to walk right up to Potter and risk being seen because he knew the potion would be wearing off any minute now, but a shout at the other end of the dark alley brought his attention now.

"Look! He's back!"

"Scroungin' fer somethin' teh eat yeah?" There were three boys, all on bikes. They all laughed as they rode up to Harry and surrounded him. One of the bikes looked new and Harry wondered if the boy riding it had stolen it.

"What's for supper tonight beggar?" the tallest of the three asked, snatching the roll from him. Knowing Potter, Severus was surprised yet again, this time because he was sure the brat would have pulled out his wand and hexed these Muggle boy's senseless. He'd certainly been caught dueling at school enough times. Potter only stood there however, silent with his chin up.

"Ooh, looks like a feast," the more scrawny of the three said with a cigarette between his lips. Here, lemme add some protein." He took it from his friend and spit on it and the boys laughed again. Harry didn't move.

"Dirt's got protein doesn't it?" The tall boy took it back and threw it on the ground before kicking it across the alley. They laughed again and seeing that they couldn't get a rise out of Harry, rode away, laughing in the distance until they turned a corner. As soon as they were out of sight, Harry hurried over to where the roll had been kicked, and with some difficulty it seemed, stooped down holding his ribs to pick the filthy thing up. That was odd, Severus hadn't seen them hit Potter, and if he had been injured before, Severus hadn't noticed. He'd been intent on other details in the cafe.

Creeping closer in the shadows, Severus straightened as he realized that Potter was struggling with himself as he stared at the roll, shoulders hunched. Potter raised the roll to his lips twice and dropped it before trying in vain to wipe the dirt and spit from it on his shirt.

Feeling a tingle in his finger tips, Severus knew he had exactly three minutes before the potion wore off for good that night. He approached anyway, still in the form of the old man he'd taken hours before.

"Why do you let them do that to you?" he asked.

Harry turned still staring at the roll. "Better not to fight." He sounded tired.

"It looks like you've been fighting."

Severus held in a gasp as Harry suddenly jammed the roll into his mouth and chewed hurriedly, swallowing it almost whole. He gagged once, but held it down. When had he eaten last if he was willing to eat that?

"Haven't been fighting," Harry said. He didn't even look at Severus as he hurried away, obviously ashamed. Severus felt another tingle and knew the potion had left his system. He followed Harry for three more blocks, sticking to the shadows, and just as they were nearing Severus' own street, he paused in the shadow of a tall dark building as Potter hunched over and was sick in someone's flower beds, losing the roll he'd eaten. He shuddered and then finished walking home, almost to Severus' own front door step. He watched as Potter went into the backyard of the house next door. The house the new neighbors had just moved into a few weeks before.

Hurrying into his own house, Severus went to the window to look into the neighbor's backyard, but couldn't see Potter anywhere. Maybe he'd snuck in the back door. He watched for several minutes, but no lights came on inside. What was all that about? What had happened tonight? Severus simply couldn't wrap his mind around it. Obviously the teen hadn't eaten in some time if he was hungry enough to take food from the trash, especially after what the neighborhood riff raff had done to it. And where had the bruises come from? It wouldn't surprise him if the boys on the bikes had done it, but Potter had been insistent at the cafe that they hadn't had anything to do with it. And then he'd been sick after he'd eaten the roll... well, who wouldn't be, it had come from the trash and been spit on after all.

As Severus tried to get to sleep in the early morning hours and failed, unable to slow his mind with the night's events and the caffeine, he had one final question. What was Potter doing there? If he was there, the Dursleys had to be there... his new neighbors... and what would he do now?

Severus felt like he was becoming a stalker. During the days he was keeping an abnormally close eye on the house next door. Potter it turned out did live there, but the only time he saw him come out of the house in daylight was to mow the lawn, take out the trash, wash windows or pull weeds. After Vernon Dursley came home he frequently heard loud thuds and shouting coming from next door, and at the cafe, which he was now a regular at every night in the disguise of an old man, he watched Harry come in with new bruises and also looking more and more tired and hungry each day. Perhaps the only food the boy got was the leftover pastries at the end of the day that Addy gave him. From what he gathered from snippets of conversation between Potter and Addy, he was working for money to buy food and she was convinced, as Severus was becoming, that the boy's own relatives were giving him a good thrashing every night. Yes, Severus was gathering evidence, but not the kind he had initially hoped for.

On his fourth night observing Potter, another night with no leftover pastries and Potter digging through the trash, Severus in ‘notice-me-not' form approached him once again, this time with a plan. Albus would not approve of taking Harry away from the protection of the Dursley house, and until he could prove to the old man that Potter was being abused and neglected then he'd have to stay put. The man did have legal guardianship over the boy in the wizarding world after all, and Albus Dumbledore was not a man to be trifled with in legal matters, not with his many friends on the wizengamot.

"Why don't you go to the orphanage?" the disguised Severus asked Harry on the street just after the nasty woman from the other cafe had shouted obscenities at him yet again. It seemed to be a ritual between the two of them.

Harry looked up from his trash can. "I'm not an orphan," he said adamantly.

"Then why do you dig for food in the trash?"

Harry mumbled something, turning his back to the old man, but Severus heard after a moment, "Not an orphan," again.

"The orphanage has beds and food."

Harry looked up at that. "I have a family," he said.

"It's just two streets over," Severus persisted and Harry turned to glare at him.

"I have a mom and a dad," he said, and just for good measure it seemed, he added, "and a brother and a bunch of sisters."

"Couldn't hurt to ask for some food, could it?" Severus said, leaning on the cane he had conjured to add to his disguise.

Harry thought about it. He was hungry. He didn't suppose he could just go knocking on the door in the middle of the night though, could he? He would get paid tomorrow and could get some food then.

"I get paid tomorrow," he said. "I'll get to eat then."

"And when was the last time you ate a real meal?"

"Doesn't matter," Harry said. He turned to walk away but Severus had plenty of potion this time and followed him at a slow gait with his cane.

"What, don't follow me," Harry said. "I know you have money for coffee, so I'm not going to give you what I find in the bins."

"Answer my question and I'll leave you alone."

"What question?"

"When you ate a real meal?"

Hands on his hips and looking irritated, Harry snapped, "At school."

"If you have to work tomorrow night then why not go to the orphanage to ask for a meal before then?"

"What do you want? Do you work for the orphanage or something? I told you, I have a family. I don't need to be put in an orphanage."

"A mother and father and brother," Severus repeated.

"And five sisters," Harry reminded him, having a specific number now.

"A big family to feed," Severus said.

Feeling like the line of questioning was going too far and knowing the old man didn't believe him, Harry suddenly felt creeped out and turned and walked away, though the next morning when he woke with his stomach grumbling, the old man's words rang in his ears, 'what could it hurt to go ask for food?'

Well he supposed it couldn't hurt anything, but he couldn't go over there until after dinner anyway. The Dursleys would notice if he left in the middle of the day.

Stomach aching all day, Harry knew that after he got paid it would be another full day until he could spend his money somewhere on food. So it was that at eight o'clock, after the dishes were done and the floors scrubbed, and Dudley's room vacuumed, Harry hurried through the neighborhood and towards the street he thought the old man had been talking about. He didn't know what he'd say when he got there, but he was already looking forward to something to eat, anything at all. He didn't know that the old man was already down the street from the orphanage waiting to see if he'd show up.

Harry found an aging wooden sign that read, "Swanage Boy's Orphanage - 1924" in front of a four story stone building with boys of varying ages out front sitting on the half wall and playing games. Some watched him curiously as he walked up to the front door and knocked, and others paid him no attention whatsoever.

After a few moments, the large wooden door swung open and Harry took a step back, because one of the teenage boys with the bikes stood there staring at him with a smirk on his face.

"Well well, the fancy rich boy who goes to private school here on our doorstep. The ‘beggar' from the alley. Whatch you want beggar?"

"Kirk!" A woman called from inside, and the teen dropped his smirk and took a step back to let her through to the front door.

"Well, what is it then? I don't have much time." She took in his bruised face and Harry cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very thirsty.

"Can I have something to eat?" he asked, hating how needy he felt.

"Don't have anything to spare," she said. "This home is for orphans." She had a look of pity on her face though, and Harry thought maybe that if he kept asking, she would give him something. He felt weak and dizzy as he had for weeks now and if he wasn't due for a paycheck tonight he would have told her right there that he had no place to stay either.

"Can I have some water then?" Harry asked.

She put her hands on her hips. "Fine fine, stay here." She hurried inside, and Kirk leaned on the doorframe smirking as his other two friends came up behind him in the hall. "Spit licker," one of them said, and Harry turned away.

"Here," the woman said, coming back with an old scratched up plastic cup. Harry really was very thirsty or he might have complained that it was the bottom half of a sippy cup. He took it and drank greedily before handing it back to her. "Thank you," he said, and turned to walk away.

"This is an orphanage," she said to his back. "Remember that."

He turned briefly but she was already calling the other boys inside for the night, and he walked to work, still hungry and rattled over the teens who were apparently just like him, and didn't notice the old man following him once again.

Severus didn't follow Harry into the cafe this time, feeling like he'd seem too suspicious if he showed up everywhere that Harry went, but he did wait outside, and was surprised when Harry came out looking upset less than five minutes later. He kicked an ashtray on the sidewalk and the front door to the cafe opened again to let Addy out.

"I'm so sorry Harry! I had no idea he'd do that!"

"I worked for two weeks and I don't even get paid!" Harry was almost in tears as he threw his arms up into the air. "How is that fair?"

"He's such a jerk, I know. I had no idea he'd back charge you for the pastries."

"I barely had any!" Harry was taking deep breaths now. "I've barely had anything to eat in weeks!"

"Harry I'm so sorry. Let me try to talk to him again. I'll make this right, I promise."

"No." Harry turned and hurried off down the street, Addy still calling after him. If he could have run, Severus thought he would have.

After getting shouted at again by the waitress from the other diner, Harry went into the alley in the back of it and proceeded to kick over every trash can he could find, making sure that every piece of garbage from the diner was scattered about. Severus was fuming as well, not over Harry's outburst, but at the idiocy of others. He had been sure the orphanage would have given the boy something to eat, and as for Addy's brother, the manager of the cafe, what he had done was just wrong.

Severus followed Potter all the way back to his house where he was distraught enough not to notice Severus following him and watching him slip through the basement window in the back on his stomach in the darkness.

Harry cried himself to sleep that night. He was so weak he could barely stand it and thought to die right there on his cot. If he snuck upstairs to take food, the Dursleys would know. He'd snuck food once last summer only to get thrashed because Aunt Petunia had started counting food, down to every egg and piece of bread, down to every cracker.

The orphanage came to mind again, but he knew he wouldn't be safe there with the other boys. He'd be fed, and maybe have a real bed to sleep in, but at what price? He supposed he'd risk getting hurt no matter where he went. Trying to get back to London and back to Hogwarts was sounding better all the time.

In the morning he felt like he'd barely slept at all as Uncle Vernon shouted at him to get upstairs and take out the trash before breakfast.

Harry trudged up the wooden steps and opened the door to the entryway. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all sitting around the table eating scrambled eggs, bacon, and bangers and his mouth watered as he moved past them to sack the trash and take it out.

He could still smell the warm food as he made his way outside to the trash can. As he lifted the lid and dropped the bag inside, he caught the sight of something out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at it. On top of the neighbor's trash can was a takeout container.

Stomach grumbling painfully, Harry looked up and down the street and back to the front door. Nobody was around, and it couldn't hurt to hop the low garden fence to see what was in that container, could it? It could have been empty, or he supposed it could very well be poison left by one of Voldemort's followers, but at this point he didn't really care. All he wanted was something in his stomach, even if it was cold.

Harry heaved himself up over the low stone wall and stumbled on the other side in the bushes, and after another look around, went to the takeout container. It felt warm and he opened it to find fried eggs, blood pudding, and a piece of buttered toast. Why would someone throw out a warm breakfast like this?

He listened carefully to see if he could hear anyone moving around in the neighbor's house since the trash bin was right up against the outer wall, but he couldn't hear anything. He sank down beside the bin, hopefully out of sight of anyone on the street, and dug into the food unceremoniously. There were no utensils so he used his hands. It was the best food he'd ever tasted, maybe just because he was so hungry and the food was warm.

He had to stop several times because his stomach wanted to rebel at the foreign feel of food after eating so little for so long, but he got it all down in the end and was satisfied when it stayed down as he climbed back over the wall. He didn't know who had thrown the food out or why, but he was grateful, and he felt some of his energy come back as he went about his chores that day.

That night as Harry took the trash out again, he couldn't believe his luck to see another container sitting atop the neighbor's rubbish bin. Were they crazy? How could anyone be so careless? They must have been rich.

Trying not to get his hopes up too high that there was actually food inside again, he climbed over the wall and sank down next to the bin with the take out container. There was a cold sandwich inside this time, and a bottle of apple juice. Harry ate it quickly because he knew he was due back inside to do the dinner dishes. Maybe he would make it through the summer after all.

* * *

Harry lay on the cold basement floor, aching from head to toe. Uncle Vernon had noticed his increase in energy over the last few days and thrashed him, saying he must have stolen their food. "You're taking food right out of your cousin's mouth!" he'd shouted as Aunt Petunia hurried to count every last piece of food in the pantry. "That's my hard earned money you're consuming boy! I know you've got a job! One of my coworkers saw you working downtown. You can pay for your own bloody food."

It didn't matter what Harry had said at that point about not getting paid. There was nothing that could stop Uncle Vernon from thrashing him when he was that angry, even though Aunt Petunia had proclaimed that all food was accounted for.

A single tear rolled down his cheek and he was glad he was alone then. It wasn't good to show weakness like that in front of people who would use it against you.

Like always his broom was locked up in a closet with his other school things, so he couldn't just ride it to London to search for the train tracks that would take him to Hogwarts. He didn't have the money to take a bus either and had been warned not to use the Knight Bus with death eaters on the loose and Voldemort coming back into power.

Maybe the orphanage wasn't so bad after all. He'd be away from Uncle Vernon anyhow, and he bet if he was getting fed three meals a day he could actually outrun the other boys or just stick by the woman that ran the orphanage and be out of harm's way.

He rolled gingerly onto his side and pushed himself up off the concrete floor. It was the middle of the day and Vernon was at work. With any luck he could sneak out the front door (he was too injured to attempt climbing out the small window), and Aunt Petunia and Dudley wouldn't even notice.

Outside, his eyes darted automatically to the trash can, but there was nothing there. There was never any lunch, just breakfast and dinner. He was still curious as to why good food was being thrown out (and still hadn't ruled out the possibility of a slow acting poison).

Holding tightly to his ribs with one arm, Harry made his way as gently as possible to the orphanage and suspected that it was nearing dinner when he got there. As with the time before there were boys mulling about, the younger ones playing catch with a ratty old ball and the older ones sitting on a stone wall in front of the building or on the steps or curb.

"Look who's back," Bike Thief said from the wall.

"She aint gonna feed you," another boy said, though his tone didn't sound bitter or angry like Bike Thief's did.

Harry ignored them and knocked on the large door anyway.

This time a young boy opened it and stood there staring up at him.

"Maam," he called when Harry didn't say anything. He didn't really know what to say to him, and he still wasn't sure when the woman came to the door.

"I don't have food to spare," she said when she saw him.

Harry swallowed hard. He never thought he'd be begging to be let into an orphanage.

"I don't eat much," he said quietly. "And- and I'll clean." He swallowed again.

"The city only gives me so much money. I can't let you work for the food."

He looked away and his voice got quieter. "I'll sleep on the floor if you don't have any spare beds."

There was silence and Harry didn't look up.

"You don't have a place to stay?"

He shook his head.

"Kirk said you live on the bay."

"No maam," Harry said. "I don't have any parents."

"Where have you been staying then?"

"On the beach on the bay."

He heard a sigh and finally looked up. She was sizing him up. "It looks like you've been picking fights."

He stared at her and didn't answer. There was nothing he could say to make her believe he hadn't been, because everyone here had assumed he'd been fighting and since he'd already said he was homeless, he couldn't tell her that Uncle Vernon had done it.

"Inside then," she said. "And heaven help me if I've taken in a runaway. That's against the law you know."

"Yes maam," Harry said. He stepped inside and she closed the door behind him.

Boys were everywhere in the house. There was a large room to the left off the entryway with four worn couches and a tiny old telly that younger boys sat watching. She lead him past this room and into an ancient looking kitchen.

"Sit on the stool there so I can have a look at your injuries." Harry did as he was told and hung his head. He startled a few moments later when she tried to lift his shirt off of him.

"I'm not going to do you any harm," she admonished when he pulled back, and he relaxed just long enough for her to take his shirt off and stare at his black and blue chest.

"There aren't a lot of homeless boys in this neighborhood," she said critically. "They all live here. Are you going to tell me which one of them did this?"

"No maam." It was all he wanted to say.

"We have rules here. You'll have to live by them. The very first one is no fighting. The second is no lying to me, and the third is to do your chores. You've already broken the first two."

"I won't break the third," he said, and it was a promise.

"Um hm." She clearly didn't believe him. She pulled out a cardboard box that looked as though it had seen better days from under the sink and set it on the counter. After rummaging around in it for a few moments she pulled out a worn looking ace bandage and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"What's your name? I'll have to enter it into the records so we can get paid for you."

"Don't know," Harry lied. "I've always just gone by Harry."

"And do you have a last name you've always gone by?"

Thinking fast, Harry threw out the first name that wasn't his that came to mind. "Weasley," he said.

"And how did you come to be in Swanage Mr. Harry Weasley?"

He shrugged, though it hurt him to do so. "Came from London."

"From which orphanage?"

He stared at her and didn't know what to say. She assumed he'd run away from another orphanage.

"Rather not say."

"It doesn't surprise me. Some of the orphanages there are rough. I've three other boys from London orphanages. All young ones too. I'm glad I got them while they were young, before they learned to fight."

"Here, you can put your shirt back on, I'm done wrapping your ribs. The doctor comes once a month to see to all the boys. You'll have to wait two weeks before he comes back."

Harry put his shirt back on and though his ribs still hurt, they felt slightly better and more secure being wrapped. Without missing a beat she started tending to the few cuts on his face with the stinging rubbing alcohol and a clean rag.

"The older boys sleep on the first floor across the hall. I'd rather you not go out at night, but I know you'll disobey anyway and I'd rather you go out the first floor window than the second or third or Heaven forbid the fourth. Each boy gets his own towel and rag for cleaning, and his own toothbrush and hair brush. I'll bring yours to your bed when we're done here. You also get two shirts and a pair of pants."

"Yes maam," he said as she finished up with his face.

"You wash your clothes every other day by hand in the downstairs bathroom sink, and you take a shower on your clothes washing day. If you miss a day you miss out. I can tell you though, the other boys won't take kindly to someone stinking up their room."

She showed him to the bathroom and gave him what she'd promised, and then took him to a locked hallway closet and held shirts and pants up to him to see what would fit and gave him a thin white t-shirt and a slightly thicker blue t-shirt and pair of jeans. Finally she showed him to his bed in one of the downstairs bedrooms.

"I gather you don't get along with Kirk, so you're not in his room," she said, and Harry felt more than grateful to know someone had his best interests in mind.

"That's it then. There's just one more thing." Harry turned to show he was listening.

"Every two weeks there's an open house for parents looking to adopt children. I suggest you be on your best behavior if you have hope of finding yourself a family. It also helps to wear clean clothes and have a hair cut." Her eyes traveled up to his tangle of hair. "I don't cut hair but one of the other boys, Peter, does. He sleeps in the bed next to the window. He won't bother you." And then she left, probably back to the kitchen to cook dinner for the house.

Harry sat on his bed. What would the Dursleys think when he didn't show up for evening chores? Would they throw his school things out? Burn his broom? He didn't know, but he did know that for now, he was safe.

For a few days, Harry felt depressed and achy, but otherwise fine. Kirk and the other boys who had previously tormented him seemed to be keeping their distance, and while he didn't plan on getting adopted at the upcoming open house, he did get Peter to cut his hair so he could at least look presentable.

The other boys his age didn't seem to have any misguided notions that they'd be getting adopted either, unlike the younger boys who took great care in washing their clothes and keeping their hair trimmed, and even picking the dirt out from under their fingernails on the day before the open house. Harry hung back in the bedroom with some of the older boys and didn't bother to go out that day, except to use the bathroom. One younger boy, Harry thought his name was Jimmy, was taken by a young couple who oohed and awed over his pudgy six year old cheeks and neatly trimmed brown hair. Some of the other boys seemed happy to see him go, but most only seemed depressed. Harry was indifferent.

That night as he lay in bed trying to go to sleep, the bedroom door creaked open and several boys came in. Harry was aware that they were there, but pretended to be asleep. Maybe they had come in to wake someone to go out that night. Unfortunately for Harry that was not the case.

"Oomph," Harry tried to roll away as someone punched him in the back but he heard Kirk laugh then and his eyes snapped open.

"No one to pick on now that you're here," Kirk said. "No reason to go out and look for you now that you're not eating trash you spit licker. I know you ate it after we spit on it. You like spit?"

He seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"Well?"

"No."

Kirk laughed quietly and turned to look at his friends, the others who had tracked Harry down night after night to torment him.

"Guess he didn't like your spit Jason. Maybe give him another taste til' he does like it?"

He moved and Jason came over and spit at Harry. They're trying to provoke me, he thought. No, don't do anything or you'll get kicked out.

"See, we don't like liars," Kirk said when Jason finally stepped back, laughing. "It's against the rules. I know you lied. I saw you going into that fancy rich house. You even told Jason you go to boarding school."

"It was a lie," Harry said. He was feeling cornered. He didn't dare try to sit up in the darkened room when he was surrounded by guys twice his size.

"See, you are a liar. So you must have lied about liking spit, right? I'm smart see, top of my class."

"What class is that?" Harry finally snapped out. "The class of jackass?" It was a mistake and he knew it, but there was nothing he could do about it now except roll away and try to cover his face as Kirk proceeded to hit him three or four more times.

"Guess what," Kirk said in a whisper next to his ear when he was done punching him. "This is what you can expect every single night. Your only option is to leave." And then he and his friends left.

Harry reached up to his nose to pinch it to stop the bleeding, and when he was sure they had gone out or gone back to their own rooms, he went to the common bathroom and washed the blood from his face and surveyed the new damage to his body. He'd have to figure out a way to stop this, but he was drawing a blank.

By the next night Harry had come up with a meager plan and he could only hope it would work for at least the first night. Instead of sleeping in his bed he waited until the others in his room were asleep, made his bed, and then crawled underneath, though he barely fit. He had left the window unlatched and hoped they would think he had snuck out for the night. It worked. At almost midnight they came into the room and he listened from under the bed as they discussed where Harry had gone. After only a minute, they left, and after another hour Harry finally climbed back into his bed, not to be bothered again that night.

The next night he didn't dare to hope his ruse would work again, but he climbed under the bed anyway. At one in the morning, he was woken abruptly from sleep as a hand grabbed his ankle and yanked him out from under the bed, causing him to scrape his elbow and the side of his face on the metal frame.

"You little sneak," Kirk said. He was alone this time. "Jason watched the outside of the window all night, and you never went out. I'm not stupid."

"That remains to be seen," Harry said, and then braced himself for another thrashing, this time worse than the last.

"That was for two nights," Kirk said when he was finished punching Harry in the side. "Expect the same tomorrow night."

Harry didn't bother going to the bathroom to clean up this time. He sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, ribs hurting worse than ever.

"Where you came from before must have been better than this," Peter said from across the darkened room.

"Maybe."

"Could you go back?"

"Only if I want more of the same."

Peter didn't say anything else and Harry lay back on top of his covers. The only good thing about the Dursley's was his own space in the basement and the mysterious food on the neighbor's rubbish bin. Who kept putting it there anyway? He wondered if they were still putting food out and wondered why. Had it been for him? Were they just picky eaters? Was it the neighbors or someone else just dumping their garbage in the neighbor's cans?

Harry didn't have a clue, but as he fell asleep he thought it would be wise to take the opportunity to find out. He could sneak out at night and stake the place out from the Dursley's bushes and thus avoid being thrashed by Kirk, (hopefully).

Rising early enough that the sun hadn't yet come up, Harry left through the bedroom window and headed back to the Dursley's where he kept himself hidden across the street and watched the rubbish bin. The food was already there. Making certain that no one saw him, he darted across the street and sank down beside the bin to see what was inside. A scrambled egg sandwich with ham and cheese. He ate it hungrily, planning on staying away from the orphanage as much as possible that day. Maybe he'd just hang around here or down at the bay until near dinner time and come back up to see who was putting food out. A day on the bay didn't sound terrible after all.

Harry walked up and down the shoreline, picking up rocks and chucking them into the water and occasionally pocketing one that had been worn smooth by the waves. By the time the afternoon had passed he had a pocket full of smooth stones and sea glass. He was dismayed to find that dinner had already been put on the bin however. He'd spent so much time on the beach that he'd missed it.

Not looking forward to going back to the orphanage as he sat and ate another sandwich, Harry thought about the mysterious food giver. It was five am when he'd come this morning. That meant the food had been put out very early. How early? The middle of the night? He might as well stay to find out, if not to stay away from Kirk than to satisfy his own curiosity.

Harry snuck over onto the Dursley's side of the wall and lay down under a bush. There was a missing stone at the bottom and Harry watched the rubbish bin through it. He was going to catch whoever it was.

The sky darkened slowly and Harry grew bored. He tried to imagine what Ron was doing right now. Hedwig was with him for the summer and he imagined her flying high over the Weasley's Quidditch paddock watching his friends play with their old brooms and beat up red Quaffle. He'd nearly fallen asleep when he heard the rubbish bin lid rattle. He squinted through the darkness through the hole in the stone wall, but all he could see were dark feet and legs. Hurrying from under his bush he peered over the wall, and froze as a familiar voice came from the darkness.

"Caldus." He could see the motion of a wand being waved over the takeout container and his heart skipped several beats. It was near four am, and Severus Snape was putting a warming charm on fresh food on top of the rubbish bin. Harry stood up, fully in sight, and stared. It was Snape.

Unaware that he was being watched, Severus turned and startled to find Potter standing there on the other side of the wall.

"It was you."

He remained silent.

"Why are you throwing good food out?"

Harry's question seemed lame in his own ears. It was obvious that the food had been put there for him, but this was Snape. Snape wouldn't do that for him. Maybe for Draco Malfoy, or a Slytherin, but Harry Potter he hated. No, Harry he downright loathed. What was he even doing in Swanage?

"Why are you keeping it warm?" he asked, not giving the man time to answer the first question.

The man seemed to consider his answer, and then said, "For you."

"For me." It was not a question.

Severus narrowed his eyes in the darkness. He hadn't seen Potter for almost a week and a half, and was just about to stop putting food out when the food from the previous morning had suddenly disappeared. The boy certainly did look the worse for wear. A lot worse than the last time he'd seen him. His face was bruised, his nose had a giant scratch and looked as though someone had given a serious go at breaking it, there was a giant scrape up the side of the boy's face, and from the way he held himself he was obviously in pain.

"You needed it." His statement hung there between them.

"You knew... I needed food."

"Yes."

"If you knew I needed food," Harry said, working it over in his mind, "you know a lot more than that. And you didn't do anything."

"I did what was in my power to do," Severus said, voice steady and perhaps a little irritated.

"You did what was easy." Harry couldn't help but let the bitterness seep into his shaky words. Snape could have taken him back to Hogwarts. He could have contacted Dumbledore. But he just let him stay there to rot, knowing what was happening to him.

"Don't be foolish," Severus said with a sneer.

Harry shook his head and took a step back. His heart felt funny like it was beating erratically. No one in this world cares about me, he thought to himself, and it was a crushing realization. No one will pay me to work, I can't be fed without a price, and there is nowhere safe. Not even a wizard will help me.

"You know what's happening," Harry said, eyes accusing and words shaking worse than ever as he struggled to gain control over his emotions. "You know and you're letting it happen anyway."

Snape couldn't have said anything then to stop Harry from running. Harry heard him shout, "Potter!" but he didn't stop. Breathing and heartbeat still fluttering, Harry finally sank to the ground several blocks away in an alley and hugged his knees as he cried. He felt betrayed and he didn't know why. Snape had never done anything for him and he never expected him to, so he didn't know why it hurt so much that he'd continued to do as little as possible for him. And with that thought, Harry realized that he had similar emotions about the Dursleys, who always acted as if they owed him nothing and were determined to give him just that, despite that they were his only family.

Feeling like he was unable to breath and wondering if his broken ribs had punctured a lung or something, Harry gasped for air. He felt panicked and uncertain. He didn't know what to do or where to go next.

After some time, Harry wasn't certain how long, his breathing finally slowed and he stopped taking in deep, gasping breaths. The panic that had gripped him subsided and he rose to his feet as the sun came up. The front door was unlocked when he made it back to the orphanage and he went inside and lay in his bed. The other boys were all up and eating breakfast. Mrs. Hamilton came in and sat on the bed across from him.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be back," she said.

"Got nowhere else to go," Harry said dully, and then he rolled over and went to sleep.

Kirk came in to beat Harry up for three more nights and he didn't tell Mrs. Hamilton. There was nothing she could do for him until the doctor came anyway, and with nowhere else to go, he knew he couldn't stir up trouble and risk being tossed out, even if he had now added a broken wrist that he hid to his long list of other injuries.

He'd lost track of the days but apparently today there was another open house. Mrs. Hamilton had come into their room and announced that someone was coming who wanted to adopt an older boy today, so the other boys were taking extra care to get ready, as the younger ones usually did.

"I bet it'll be Peter," Sam said as he combed his hair and Peter gave someone else a haircut.

"Why Peter?" someone asked.

"Because he has skills and he's quiet and never causes anyone any trouble," Sam said. "Who wants a teenage boy who causes trouble?" Here he paused to look at Harry and so did the other boys. Harry knew they didn't stare to be mean. They were right, that was all. Harry looked like he'd tried to take on a bull or an octopus with razor sharp claws. Just like everyone else, whoever came today would assume he'd been picking fights.

"I heard someone say they want a boy that looks like them."

"That's typical," Peter said. "No one wants a child who can't pass as theirs with their neighbors and friends."

"Well lets hope they have blond hair then," Sam said, admiring his own blond hair in the mirror. Harry tuned them out until they left the room.

"Come on," Peter said, pausing at the foot of Harry's bed.

Harry looked up. "What?"

"Won't get taken out of here if you don't go out there."

"No one will take me," Harry said, and he knew he couldn't let anyone take him either. No Muggle would believe him if he said he was a wizard and had to get on a train in London to go to wizarding school in the fall.

"Come on anyway," Peter said.

"Why?"

Peter shrugged. "Make the other boys feel better... to have a chance." He smiled and though Harry didn't return it he did get up and follow him out.

There were four couples sitting in the living room talking to younger boys about their interests and likes and dislikes, and a middle aged couple in the kitchen talking to Kirk, who to be fair, looked decent when he was all cleaned up and didn't have a scowl on his face or balled fist at his side. Kirk spied Harry watching him and smirked before going back to the couple who was talking to him about his good grades and the possibility of going to University someday.

"And what's your name?" Harry froze and turned to find Snape standing there in his usual black slacks and black button up shirt.

"This is Harry Weasley," Peter said, coming up behind Harry and putting his hand on his shoulder.

"Weasley?"

Harry didn't say anything and instead just stared at him.

"He's quiet," Peter said, "but he's a pretty good worker. He always does his chores."

Snape turned his attention to Peter then. "Are you trying to sell me a child?"

"It's a possibility." He slapped Harry on the back and Harry winced because he'd gotten his ribs.

"Why do you not try to sell yourself?"

Peter smiled. "I've been here since I was born. Mrs. Hamilton is more my mum than anyone else will ever be. Harry though, he could stand to have a family. Besides, he looks like you, don't you think?"

Harry stared at Peter, incredulous. Did he really think Snape was here to adopt a child? No, the man was there to torment him, or hopefully to pretend he was there to adopt Harry to take him out and get him back to Hogwarts. If Harry was lucky he'd take him to the Weasley's for the last month of summer.

"Indeed," was all Snape said though, and he turned and walked into the kitchen.

Peter raised his hands as if to say ‘I tried' and left Harry there to go and help someone else try to secure a family. Harry went to stand in the kitchen doorway however and watched as Snape spoke to Mrs. Hamilton.

"My, what happened to you young man?" Harry looked up briefly to the middle aged couple who had been talking to Kirk a few moments before, eyes flickering back to Snape and then back to the couple again.

He shrugged.

"Looks like someone's gone at him," the man said. "That happen here son?"

He let his eyes go to the floor and the man cleared his throat. "My eyes are up here," he said.

Harry looked up. He didn't know these people but years of schooling at Hogwarts had taught him to be respectful even if he didn't feel like it.

"It seems to me that if someone is bullying you in here, a stop should be put to it."

Harry didn't mean to do what he did next, but it happened anyway. His eyes darted to Kirk, who was still in the kitchen, and then back down to his feet again. The man took Harry's arm gently and lead him into the hallway, his wife following.

"I'm a police officer son, you can tell me."

"I can't," Harry said.

"Wouldn't you like to leave this place?" the woman asked. "We're looking for honesty in a son."

Harry looked up and felt the panic start to rise in him again. If he ratted out Kirk and they didn't adopt him, and Snape didn't take him out of this place, he would be dead he was certain.

"If you take me," Harry said, trying to be as vague as possible, "whoever did this will just keep doing it to other people."

The man looked at his wife and she gave a nod.

"Mr. Weasley," Mrs. Hamilton said then and Harry's head snapped up to her. Snape was beside her. "Mr. Snape would like to adopt you."

Harry let his head fall back against the wall in relief. Snape was taking him out of here. He was sure he'd be back at Hogwarts by dinner time. Maybe he could even convince the man to break into the Dursley's house to get his school things back as well.

"Excuse me," the other man said. "We'd like to discuss taking Kirk. It seems to me he could use some strong discipline."

The man turned to wink at Harry then and he couldn't help but finally letting a small smile cross his face. He hoped Kirk got a lot of discipline. Maybe they'd send him off to military school... or St. Brutus'. Wouldn't that just be icing on the cake?

Harry sat on the front steps while Snape went into Mrs. Hamilton's office to fill out whatever paperwork she had to release him. He was certain Snape was using fake details and would burn the papers later. There was no way the man would ever adopt him.

Peter came to sit on the steps next to him.

"Two birds with one stone," he said.

"Huh?"

"Got you adopted out and away from Kirk, and then you went and got Kirk adopted out and away from the rest of us. Jason and Bill will stop being such jerks after he's gone."

"You really don't want to be adopted?"

"Nope, I'm good where I'm at."

Harry looked at him. "You're a good guy."

"I hope to be."

Twenty minutes later, Snape came out the door and stared down at Harry. Harry stood up and followed him wordlessly down the street and around the corner. He turned back just in time to see Peter going back inside with a smile on his face.

When they were almost back to Snape's house, Harry said, "Thank you."

"For what Mr. Potter?"

"For taking me back to Hogwarts."

"School doesn't start for 35 more days."

"Where am I going then? The Weasley's?"

"You no longer bear the Weasley last name. You are going to take a shower and then go straight to bed so I can heal your injuries."

Harry stopped walking, heart feeling funny again. Snape stopped as well and turned around.

"I'm staying with you for the night sir?"

"I have just adopted you Mr. Potter. You will be staying with me for a lot longer than one night."

Harry shook his head. "You fake adopted me, to get me out of there... you adopted Harry Weasley, not Harry Potter."

"I explained to Mrs. Hamilton that I am your professor from school and that your real last name is Potter. I assure you, the documentation is legal."

He shook his head harder, panic overtaking him. No, Snape wouldn't adopt him, he didn't care at all for him. He was just pulling his chain. He'd send him right back to the Dursley's tomorrow morning he was sure of it, and then he'd really get thrashed.

"The Headmaster, he'll make you send me back."

Snape put his hand on Harry's shoulder and nudged him gently to get him moving again so the Dursley's didn't spot them as they were standing almost directly in front of their house. "Muggle contracts are also legal and binding in the magical world Potter. I assure you, the Headmaster will not be able to refute it."

Harry couldn't breath, just like days before when he'd run from Snape in the middle of the night. No, this wasn't right. No one wanted to adopt him. No one cared that much for him. Snape was lying. He had to be, or else he had only done it out of guilt. That was the last thing he wanted, someone who pretended to care out of guilt or pity.

Before he knew what was happening he began gasping for breath and his legs buckled. Fortunately they were already at the steps leading up onto Snape's porch and as he fell, Snape caught him and helped him to sit on a step.

"What is wrong?" Snape asked him thinking it was one of his injuries causing this. Harry couldn't speak though. He could barely move because panic was gripping him so hard he couldn't think straight. This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong, was all he could think. It's a lie, I'm not adopted, I'm still just me.

"Potter, look at me," Snape commanded and Harry's eyes focused and snapped up to Snape's black ones.

"I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong."

He shook his head and closed his eyes. His throat was closing off and he couldn't tell him. Even if he could speak he wouldn't know how to tell him what was wrong, he didn't know himself, and it scared him.

"Potter," Snape warned, and Harry reached up and gripped Snape's arm hard.

"Is this from an injury?"

Eyes still closed Harry shook his head.

Snape pulled Harry into a standing position and guided him into the house where he deposited him onto the couch. If Harry had opened his eyes he might have seen that the living room was fairly modern and very nice.

"You need to focus on breathing or you will pass out," Snape said. "You are having a panic attack."

Panic attack. Panic. Yes I feel panicked. I don't know what to do. He clenched his eyes shut tighter.

"Listen to the sound of my voice and focus on the tone. Hear the words and how they flow evenly. Hear the calmness." Harry's grip on his arm slackened slightly as Harry focused on his words instead of the tight feeling in his chest and his inability to breathe.

Snape talked for a few more minutes, though what he said Harry couldn't remember later. He supposed it was nonsense just to get him to calm down. Whenever he thought back to that moment, he was always surprised the man hadn't just poured a calming draught down his throat.

Finally Harry let go of Snape's arm and opened his eyes. His nerves felt frayed and his thoughts still felt erratic. He also felt embarrassed and his cheeks tinged red as Snape stared at him.

"I know I am not the ideal parent Potter, but I did not expect you to panic over the news that I had adopted you."

Harry looked away. "I'm sorry," his voice scratched. It wasn't that it was Snape who had adopted him, it was that he had been adopted at all that had set him off. No one could want him. The Dursley's had said it so many times, and it had proved to be true time and again.

"Potter."

Harry's eyes came up to meet Snape's.

"I suggest you do not continue thinking about whatever it was that led you to anxiety in the first place."

Harry gave a nod.

"Are you able to stand to take a shower?"

Another nod.

"I will show you to the upstairs bathroom then. I need all of your wounds to be clean so I can heal them."

He followed the Potions Master upstairs, feeling confused, and let himself be lead into the bathroom. There was a blue folded towel waiting for him on the counter with a folded washcloth.

"Am I to assume the rest of your things are still with your relatives?"

Harry gave a hurried nod and Snape left the bathroom to give him privacy. Harry looked around. It was a nice bathroom, and it would be nice to have it to himself without someone else in there brushing their teeth or using the toilet, which was always the case at the orphanage.

Harry showered and was careful not to touch his scrapes and bruises too much, and also avoided looking at them. Snape said he was going to heal him. It was bad enough thinking about Snape seeing all of his injuries. He definitely didn't want to look at them himself and know what Snape would be seeing.

When he was done he stepped out and gently toweled off, having difficulty because of his ribs and wrist, and put his clothes from the orphanage back on. They were clean, after all he'd just washed them last night.

He stepped out of the bathroom with the towel in his good hand, uncertain of what to do with it. At the orphanage the boys all kept their towels with their other belongings, even if they were dirty.

"In here," Snape said, stepping into the hallway at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Harry walked barefoot down the carpeted hall and into the room on the right at the end. It had large windows going nearly from floor to ceiling overlooking the backyard and the bay. There was a twin bed with a soft dark blue blanket and light blue sheets, and a closet. Other than that the room was bare.

"Sit on the bed Mr. Potter."

Harry obeyed, still holding his wet towel.

"I will be able to heal you faster if you inform me of all of your injuries." The man gave him a hard look and waited. Harry wished he didn't have to talk though. He felt numb and just wanted to go to sleep. Maybe he'd wake up tomorrow and be back at Hogwarts. Maybe this was all just a bad nightmare from jitters before the last task of the triwizard tournament. Wouldn't that be nice, he thought, feeling a little like Luna Lovegood just then.

He cleared his throat. "My ribs and my wrist. And a lot of scrapes and bruises."

"How did you get the scrape on the side of your face?"

He swallowed. "Kirk dragged me out from under the bed. My face scraped the metal frame."

"And you were under the bed because?"

He looked away. When Snape didn't move or ask him another question however, he felt uncomfortable with the silence and said, "Because I didn't want to get thrashed."

"Didn't you fight back?"

Harry's eyes dulled and glazed over then and instead of waiting for an answer, it was Severus' turn to feel uncomfortable and he left the room to gather healing potions.

"I am unskilled with spells to mend broken bones," he said as he opened a phial of clear potion and handed it to Harry. "St. Mungos is out of the question given that several death eaters work there, and Madam Pomfrey is out of the country at the moment. Potions will have to suffice. They will take several days and several doses to work."

Harry downed it and was handed three more of varying colors before he was done. Snape pulled out a tin of bruise balm and practically coated Harry in it.

"How do you feel?"

"Dizzy," Harry said.

"That is the bone mending potion. It is drawing on your strength to pull the bones back together. You will need to stay in bed until the potions are out of your system." Harry lay back and was surprised when Snape helped to pull the covers out from underneath him so he could cover up.

"Thank you," Harry said as the man made for the door.

"For?"

"For coming to take me back to Hogwarts," Harry said sleepily.

"I stand by what I said earlier Potter. You live here now. Hogwarts is still more than a month away." He waited, perhaps for Harry to respond, but when Harry didn't say anything else or go into another panic attack, he left, leaving the door open.

Harry stared at the ceiling. I live here. In this room. No, I live at Hogwarts where I have a few good friends, a Headmaster that doesn't care, and a Potions Master who hates me. And then he closed his eyes to guard himself against the spinning room, and drifted into a confused sleep.

Harry felt out of place. He wasn't supposed to be here. He knew it, and he was certain Snape knew it too. Every few hours the Potions Master came into the room to check on him, apply bruise balm, give him potion, and ask if he needed anything. It was awkward and Harry felt it every second that the man was there. Snape wasn't supposed to act like this. He wasn't supposed to offer Harry pudding or draught for upset stomach from all of the other healing potions. He wasn't supposed to act concerned. It was confusing, especially because Harry still saw the real Snape under the false exterior. Under the concern was the tense, oft irritated, snarky man that roamed the Hogwarts dungeons looking for trouble makers (namely Harry and Ron). Harry couldn't help but feel like anything he would do or say here would get him in trouble. Snape had asked him several more times why he hadn't fought back out there in the Muggle world, and each time Harry had failed to answer, retreating into himself. He knew the man was irritated.

While Harry often watched Snape as he came and went, he tried to avoid eye contact, and he was sure this irritated the man too. Why wasn't he saying anything about it? He was supposed to have yelled at him by now... set him to chores, or something. He wasn't sure what protocol dictated when they weren't at school, but Harry was in the man's house... in his domain. Surely there had to be some rules, and Harry was sure they would be strict ones, ones that he could break easily without trying.

"How are you feeling?"

Harry startled from his reverie as professor Snape appeared from the hallway, and though he gave a quick glance up, he threw his eyes to the bed quickly because Snape was looking at him.

"Ok."

Severus crossed his arms as he continued looking at the quiet teen. He never knew if the child was really feeling ok, or was feeling unwell and was unwilling to say anything. Why he was unwilling to ask for the medicine he needed, Severus wasn't certain beyond that the child obviously wasn't used to having someone take care of him.

"Is your stomach still upset?"

Harry stayed quiet and fidgeted with his hands. He wanted to throw up, and wondered if he puked just then if that would be a good enough answer. Something inside him wanted to laugh at that, but he knew he'd better not. He wasn't supposed to laugh in front of Snape.

"Mr. Potter, if you make me go through this line of questioning every time I come in, you will only prolong the awkwardness you seem intent on fostering."

Harry's eyes flickered up briefly and then back down again. Severus left and came back a few moments later with several potions. He set the familiar pink stomach calming draught on the night stand and stood straight again, arms crossed. "If your stomach is upset, you may take a small drink of that, but no more than once every hour. Sit up so I can re-apply the bruise balm."

Harry struggled to sit because his ribs hurt, and startled when a hand gently gripped his arm and helped him sit. The hairs raised on his arms and he hoped the man hadn't noticed. He wasn't used to people touching him. He wasn't used to being treated like this. He wasn't used to Snape... or at least, this Snape.

Closing his eyes and swallowing back a flood of emotions that he didn't understand, Harry tried to concentrate on the darkness of his eyelids until Snape was done and he was alone again. It was just too strange to be here. Not that Harry disliked having a warm bed and as much food as he wanted, but he didn't understand why Snape was giving these things to him. He hadn't adopted him, not really. No one would do that and he didn't deserve it in any case. No, at some point the other shoe would fall... Snape would take him back to the orphanage or the Dursleys (who he was very aware lived just next door, and was fearful that they would show up at the front door demanding him back any day now), or Dumbledore would show up to tell Harry it was time to go back to school. Snape had lied to him, that was it. It had to be. Just another lie to trick Voldemort, or the Ministry, or... Harry lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes again. He didn't want to think about it. The thoughts that kept circling in his mind were making him feel sicker and dizzier. The best thing to do was just sleep, so he did.

* * *

"AHHH!"

Harry was being pinned to the ground and smothered. Uncle Vernon had finally decided to kill him in his cupboard. No, they were in Swanage now, and he was in his dusty basement. Harry struggled but couldn't free himself. But Uncle Vernon was far too light... no, he wasn't in the basement, he had been at the Orphanage for days. It had to be Kirk and the others. Panicking, Harry screamed out again hoping the others would help him. There was a bang somewhere above him and he felt strong hands on his shoulders for a moment as he continued to struggle. It couldn't end this way! Unexpectedly he was free and he scrambled until he met a wall, shielding himself from the blows he was sure were going to come raining down on him any moment now.

"Potter." Warm hands closed on his wrists, but Harry pulled them in towards his body with all his might as he tucked his head down. Even though no one was on top of him now, he still couldn't breath and feared his lungs were damaged.

"Potter, it's over."

Harry grunted as the hands tried to take hold of his wrists again. No, no one had come to help him. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"Harry."

Harry opened his eyes and was confused to find himself on the floor in a dark room with Snape in front of him, holding his wrists. Harry looked around to verify that Kirk and the other boys, or Vernon and Dudley weren't there, and then tried to suck in breaths, but his airway felt closed and an unnatural sound came from his throat instead.

"Harry, look at me."

Harry's fearful eyes locked on the Potion Master's and he let his hands be pulled away from his chest. Severus let go of them and said seriously, "It was a dream. You are safe, but you are having a panic attack. You need to take slow, deep breaths."

He shook his head, but Snape wouldn't let him break eye contact. "Slow, deep breaths," he said again and Harry tried to think about what he was saying. Slow, slow, breath, you have to breath. Harry didn't know how long they were on the floor before he was finally able to breath properly again, but as soon as he was able, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the wall.

"Would you like to talk about what just happened?"

Harry swallowed and didn't say anything.

"Mr. Potter." It was a tone that said Harry had better open his eyes or else he was going to be in trouble, so he did, but he was too embarrassed to look at his professor.

"I was trapped."

"You rolled off the bed. You were wrapped in the blankets."

"Yeah."

"And your nightmare?"

"Didn't have a nightmare."

"After the display I just witnessed for the last ten minutes, I am disinclined to believe you."

Harry suddenly felt like snapping out, 'I'm disinclined to sit here anymore,' but didn't because he didn't know what Snape would do.

"Did you fight back?"

Harry did look up at that as he tried to push himself up but he was feeling weak, probably from the potions. He'd been feeling weak for days now as his bones healed. He ended up right back where he was, rear on the floor and back against the wall.

"Would you like help?" He didn't answer. After long, silent moments, Severus sat down, tired of kneeling.

Harry eyed him wearily. "What are you doing?"

"You are unwilling to ask for help when you need it, and unwilling to speak about your dream, or answer my questions. I will wait."

"You- you're just going to sit on the floor in the dark?"

"It is something you seem content to do," Severus observed and Harry frowned. They sat there for long minutes and Harry knew Snape would tire of this eventually and go back to bed. He looked at him and realized for the first time that the man was indeed in his pajamas (blue), and his feet were as bare as Harry's were. It was cold there on the floor, what was wrong with him? He struggled to get up again, not liking the awkwardness of sitting there across from his professor for no reason at all, and failed again. Snape didn't ask if he wanted help and Harry didn't ask for it.

"Are you going to stay here all night?"

"I'm a patient man Mr. Potter."

Harry snorted then, throwing his hand over his mouth in horror and chancing a glance to see what kind of trouble he would be in, but Severus only raised a brow.

"Yes?"

"Well-" Harry hedged. "You're not the most patient..." thoughts of him shouting at Neville in Potions and snapping at Harry to hurry up in detention came to mind.

"Hm."

Feeling drained Harry desperately wanted to be back in his bed to go back to sleep. He tried for a third time to get up but didn't even make it two inches off the floor. Eventually he'd have to crawl to the bathroom because he had to go. He wished Snape would just go away already so he could crawl down the hall without being embarrassed. After another twenty minutes, Harry knew he could no longer wait. He would have to crawl right past Snape, and practically over the top of him with how close he was sitting.

"I-"

Snape raised his brows when Harry didn't finish, but he also didn't say anything.

Cheeks turning red, Harry cleared his throat. "I need to use the bathroom."

Severus raised his hand and indicated the door a few feet from Harry. "Be my guest."

Harry glared at him. The man knew he couldn't get up. The potions were sapping all of his strength. Why wasn't he asking if Harry needed help? It irritated Harry to some extent that the man only raised his brow. He's daring me, Harry realized. He's daring me to do it myself or else ask for help. Well if that's what the man wanted that's what he'd do. He'd ask for help with every little thing and annoy him senseless.

"I need help," he said, feeling smug, but was surprised when Snape rose suddenly before him in the mostly dark room and lifted Harry just as quickly to his feet from under his arms. The swift motion of rising made Harry's vision go dark and he swayed, but Snape pushed him against the wall and held him there until Harry opened his eyes again and was able to see.

Harry dragged his feet down the hall as Snape kept his hand on Harry's upper arm, ready to catch him if he fell, and was glad to be allowed privacy in the bathroom. He thought about his plan to annoy the man by asking for help with every little thing and thought it would be funny to ask him for help while in the bathroom, but nixed the idea because he didn't think he could stand the embarrassment. He finished and went back to the hallway, holding onto the door frame for support until Snape took his arm again and lead him back to the room.

He allowed himself to collapse face first into the bed and didn't have time to think on his plan to annoy the Potions Master any longer as his eyelids fell closed. He was too tired to think about it, and he wasn't awake long enough to feel Snape pulling the covers up over his back.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure what to feel about the way Snape had been acting. Harry had been a pain to deal with being sick and weak from the potions and unable to do much of anything for himself, and he'd been even more of a pain he was sure by asking for help with every little thing. He felt very much like Dudley or like Draco Malfoy. He'd asked for help to get to the bathroom several times, he asked for Snape to bring him a fresh shirt to change into, and he asked him for a pair of socks on top of that. The man didn't seem annoyed and Harry lost interest in trying to get a rise out of him, so he stopped asking for things. What was wrong with him? At Hogwarts Snape would have snapped about him being spoiled and pampered and using his fame to order people around. Here he just did as Harry asked and did so quietly, without even a frown or snide remark.

The days passed quietly as Harry healed. Snape occasionally still asked him why he didn't fight back or if he was hungry, or how he was feeling, but that was the extent of their words with each other for the five days it took Harry's bones and other injuries to heal. The only other real sounds was the racket Harry made almost every night, screaming or thrashing about and knocking things off the nightstand in his sleep. Snape would always come in to see if he was all right, but Harry never spoke to him about the dreams.

Harry supposed he had always had the dreams. He'd woken Ron a few times at Hogwarts and the Burrow, and sometimes Uncle Vernon would yell at him at night from down the hall to shut up. He couldn't remember having any nightmares at the orphanage, but he didn't really sleep long enough at the orphanage to dream. He was constantly woken in the middle of the night by Kirk to get beaten or by other boys rising to use the bathroom at all hours.

He never liked waking other people with his dreams, but he felt even worse about doing so here. Uncle Vernon was irritated by his screaming in the night, and Ron mostly pretended to still be asleep to keep Harry's dignity intact. But Snape always came in to see if he was ok. It was strange. The man never looked worried or concerned when he came to ask Harry if he was ok. His face was always impassive when dealing with him since Harry had screamed at him at the rubbish bins almost two weeks ago. Harry didn't like it. It was unsettling because he didn't know what the man was thinking or when he was angry. If he didn't know when he was angry, he couldn't predict when he would snap.

The door opened and Snape appeared, almost as if he knew Harry was thinking about him. Harry glanced up to see if there was any sign of the man's mood on his face, but there was none, so he looked away and focused on a spot on the bed. He'd been able to get up and walk around his room today and go to the bathroom by himself. He was still a little weak and tired but his wrist and ribs felt great and the bruises were almost gone. Snape had said earlier this morning that the potions would be out of his system by tomorrow afternoon.

"Where are your things?"

"Sir?"

"Your school things and clothes. Where are they located in your aunt and uncle's house?"

"In the basement in a closet. It's locked."

"Can the closet be seen from the basement window?"

"Yes sir."

"I will return. You are to stay here."

He turned to leave and Harry frowned at his back. Where was he going? Surely not to get his things. Harry panicked then, wondering if the man was going to go and tell his relatives where Harry was, or to tell them to take Harry back because he was too much trouble. Harry opened his door and found the hall empty. His window looked out at the bay and he needed to find a window that looked towards his aunt and uncle's house. He tried the next door down the hall and found it locked. The next door was unlocked and he opened it cautiously in case Snape was inside. Harry hadn't been told he couldn't explore the house, but he was sure it was a rule.

Squinting because the curtains were closed and the room was dark, Harry stepped inside and felt like he was going to get caught somewhere where he shouldn't be. This was obviously Snape's room, and the man would kill him if he found him in here. But he had to see out the window!

Harry hurried across the room and pulled the curtain aside just far enough to see out. Snape was heading towards the back yard and the basement window. Was he crazy!? It was the middle of the day! Harry's eyes darted to the driveway and he was relieved to see that neither car was there. Uncle Vernon was at work and Aunt Petunia was probably out buying something for Dudley. Dudley always went grocery shopping with her because that way he could point out exactly what he wanted to eat and what sweets he wanted. Often he came back with an entire bag full of candies, cookies and cakes and another bag full of nothing but crisps. When Harry looked back to the backyard, Snape had disappeared from view. Harry couldn't see his little basement window from here.

He waited anxiously and several minutes passed before Snape came back into sight and came into the backyard via the gate that linked the two properties. Remembering he was where he shouldn't be, Harry's heart started to beat frantically and he hurried back to his room where he sat on his bed. His palms were sweaty so he wiped them on his only pair of pants.

Snape came up a few minutes later and stuck his hand into his pocket, withdrawing Harry's shrunken trunk and broom.

"I was able to retrieve them from the window without going inside. The window is too small for my frame." He gave Harry a close looking over then as if wondering how Harry could possibly have fit through it.

"It's a tight fit," Harry said in answer to the unspoken question.

Harry's trunk and broom were unshrunk and Harry went to it and pulled out his wand. He hated being without it because it made him feel vulnerable. Snape stood over him as Harry rummaged through it, and when Harry stepped back with his favorite shirt to put on, he noted that for the first time in days, the man had an expression on his face. He seemed unimpressed.

"These are all of your belongings?"

"Hedwig and her cage are at Ron's house."

"And this is all of your clothing?"

Harry looked back at the trunk. A few shirts and three pairs of pants that were too small. Holey socks and some underwear that weren't much better.

"Yes."

"You do not have enough to get through one week."

Well, it was better than at the orphanage Harry thought, where he washed his clothes every other day. When Harry didn't say anything, Snape crossed his arms.

"Tomorrow we will go into town."

"Sir?"

"I have errands to run. We can get clothes in town." He left before Harry could say anything. Harry had a bag full of wizard coins but no Muggle money. How was he going to buy clothes?

Instead of having dinner in his room, Snape asked him to come downstairs and Harry obeyed. He had seen the downstairs the first night when he'd come in but that had been a week ago and he'd been in the middle of a panic attack so he hadn't been paying attention.

There was a large living room with an old piano that looked like it rarely got used, and a few Muggle electronics like lamps and a radio, but no telly. There was a coat rack on the wall with several dark coats and robes hung from it, and a shelf on the floor under it with two pairs of boots and a pair of dress shoes. The curtains were open and it felt very bright compared to the dark oppressive hallway upstairs, or to Snape's dark room, which Harry really hadn't paid attention to when he'd been inside.

Through a door frame in the living room was the dining room and kitchen. Harry sat at the table and Snape set a plate of steak and kidney pie in front of him with a fizzy drink. Harry stared at the can. Snape drank this sort of thing? It was distinctly Muggle... Ron thought fizzy drinks were a treat for special occasions because that was the only time his family went to Muggle grocery stores.

"Is there something wrong with your drink Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, sitting across the table with his own meal. Harry noted that he had coffee.

"No," Harry said, but he was too curious for his own good. Would Snape allow him to ask a question? "This is... Muggle."

"You don't consume Muggle foods?"

"I do... I didn't think you did."

"We live in a Muggle neighborhood and I do not like to go all the way to Diagonalley or one of the other wizarding villages to shop for groceries."

"Oh."

Harry didn't often get to drink fizzy drinks. Dudley and Uncle Vernon did, but Harry was usually only allowed to have water or sometimes milk. At Hogwarts they drank pumpkin juice or other drinks like butterbeer.

They ate in silence and Harry wondered what else Snape had in the pantry that was Muggle. Did he buy crisps too? There were certain kinds that Harry liked. Wizards had crisps that tasted like root beer, orange creme, licorice and sweet things, but Harry liked the Muggle crisps that were salty. If he was going to have something sweet he wanted chewy candy or some kind of pastry or other desert.

After dinner Harry went back to his room and pulled out his summer homework. He might as well get it done now that he had his books back. There were four essays to do and he had almost nine chapters to read in various books, as well as a list of questions he was supposed to answer. He was in no hurry, thinking he'd be in this room for the rest of the summer aside from his trip into town with Snape tomorrow. He lazily read one of the assigned chapters in his Charms text and wrote down a few notes for his essay, and then went to bed, not certain what to expect from tomorrow.

* * *

"How much money do you have with you?" Severus asked after breakfast.

Harry dug in his pocket. "Two Galleons worth sir."

"That is not enough for clothing." He held out his hand, and Harry uncertainly handed his handful of coins over down to the last Knut. Snape looked at it for a moment as if counting and then reached into his own pocket and withdrew a black leather wallet. He handed Harry 26 pounds from it, and Harry took it with a frown. That was awfully nice of him to exchange it for Harry. But then again he had said they weren't going to go to a wizarding village today. Harry knew about Diagonalley and Hogsmead but he wasn't sure where else witches and wizards would shop.

"Where do wizards shop?" Harry asked as they headed for the door.

"Aside from the obvious, there are hidden wizard stores across the country. There is also a small alley in Tinworth with about eight stores, Danger Alley in London, which is off limits to you," here the man gave Harry a pointed look to further warn him off from ever going there, "a shopping center in Falmouth and several areas in Mould-on-the-Wold that are completely magic."

"Oh."

"We will be staying in Swanage today."

He led Harry out the front door and Harry followed. He hadn't really been out of the neighborhood at this point except to go to work at the cafe. That was the furthest he'd been and he didn't know what else was in town. Harry was surprised when Snape lead him right down the street to the cafe, which was full of people in the daytime.

"Sir- where are we going?" They had crossed the street and were heading right for the cafe where Addy worked. Harry didn't have any desire to go in there.

"Right here," he said. They stopped outside and he opened the door, motioning for Harry to go in ahead of him. Addy wasn't behind the counter but Harry didn't expect her to be. She didn't start work until the afternoon.

Harry wondered if Snape just wanted a cup of coffee, but he went right up to the counter and said, "I wish to speak to the manager."

"Just a moment," the barista said and went into the back room. Addy's brother came out a minute later. He spotted Harry and frowned.

"Yes?" he asked Snape.

"It has come to my attention that you owe this young man money. He worked here for two weeks and was denied pay at the end of that time."

"He was paid in food!" the manager said angrily, trying to keep his voice down so his customers didn't hear.

"How many pastries did you get?" Snape said to Harry sharply, and Harry tensed up. Was the man mad at him now?

"I think eleven."

Snape turned back to the manager. "How much do you pay your employees?"

"Six pounds an hour."

"How much are the pastries?"

"One pound."

"Then he ate eleven pounds worth of pastries," Snape said. "He worked for fourteen days for four hours a day. His pay would have been 336 pounds. After the pastries that's 325 pounds that you still owe him." Harry supposed with all of the measuring he did in Potions that he would be very good at maths.

The manager stared at him. "He was a lousy employee. He was fired."

"He worked hard and quit because you refused to pay him. Regardless, you still owe him for the days that he worked." Snape began to raise his voice from the low tones he had been using and Harry was certain the man wanted to make the manager nervous that customers would start to listen in on the conversation. "Should I contact the authorities?" he finally asked the man across the counter.

"No." He went to the register and agitatedly counted out 325 pounds. When he came back he thrust the wad of money across the counter and into Harry's hands. Snape did not say thank you, and turned to leave.

Harry was stunned. He turned to follow Snape out, who was already out the door, but the manager stopped him with, "Kid. Don't come back in here. And don't bring your dad back either."

Harry stared at him. His dad?

"Go on," the manager said, sounding wary and tired, and Harry put the money in his pocket with the other 26 pounds he had and walked out. Snape was outside waiting for him, and Harry stared up at him as they continued to walk down the street. Why had he done that for him? Harry thought that if Snape ever did have kids that they would probably be well looked after. When he wasn't yelling at Harry or putting him down or trying to give him detention he wasn't all that bad.

They walked for almost ten minutes before they made it to a small clothing store for men and boys. Snape didn't say anything and Harry didn't need telling twice. He'd never had this much Muggle money before, or time to go and get clothes.

Harry wasn't impressed with a lot of the clothes which were mostly summer and beach wear, but he did get several pairs of cargo shorts and a few t-shirts and a pair of sandals.

"There is another shop up the road," Snape said when Harry had paid for his purchases, and Harry was pleased to find that the next shop had normal clothing. Harry was able to get pants, socks and underwear, more short sleeve shirts, and several zip up hoodies.

They also stopped at a shoe store and Harry got a pair of sneakers and a pair of hiking boots. His money was dwindling and he only had ten or eleven pounds left.

"Thank you," he said when they exited the shoe store.

"For?"

"For getting my money from the manager."

"It is something you should have done," he said and he gave Harry a stern look. Harry wasn't sure if he was putting him down or giving him advice. "Nevertheless, it was your first job and you could not be expected to know how to stand up to an employer."

Behind a building Snape shrunk down Harry's purchases and gave them back to Harry to put in a pocket, and then they went to the grocery story, 'The Co-Operative Food'. Harry watched curiously as Snape put item after item into the cart. He felt out of place. He was with Severus Snape in a Muggle grocery store. Harry supposed he would fit in here because he was raised Muggle, but wizards used house elves to do this sort of thing, didn't they? Maybe Snape couldn't afford to buy or hire one.

"What kind of foods do you like?"

Harry stared at him. No one cared what Harry liked. He just ate what was given to him and did so without complaint. "I'll eat anything sir," he said.

"I am aware of that fact Potter. I asked you what you liked."

Harry couldn't help his eyes from traveling towards the crisp aisle and without a word Snape turned the shopping cart in that direction.

"You will choose twelve things to put into this cart."

"You want me to buy twelve bags of crisps?"

"Twelve items. I would advise against twelve bags of crisps."

Harry frowned. "What kind of things do you want me to put in?"

"Whatever non-sensible things that boys your age like to consume in ungodly amounts."

Harry almost snorted. Only Snape could put it like that. He walked forward and put a bag of red crisps into the cart and then looked at Snape expectantly.

"My shopping is done. We will not leave the store until eleven more items of your choosing are in the cart."

Great, Harry thought. He's going to follow me around. He had half a mind to disobey him and just throw eleven more bags of crisps in to get the task over with, but the man had been nice to him and he didn't want to make him angry. He'd much rather deal with this Severus Snape than the other less pleasant version of him.

Harry put a box of canned fizzy drinks into the cart in the next aisle as well as several chewy fruit flavored Muggle candies he thought he'd like to try and then went to the refrigerated section of the store and put yogurt in the cart. Dudley hated yogurt because it was healthy and so Harry always got to eat it when Aunt Petunia bought it, even if it was past the expiration date. It was one of the only sweet things he'd ever been allowed to enjoy.

"Five more things," Snape said. He'd been keeping count apparently. Harry didn't know what else to add. He ended up putting in a package of cookies and a box of individually wrapped cakes with frosting striped like a zebra. The last things he put in the cart were bagels, cream cheese, and a whole pineapple. Snape raised his brows at the last addition but didn't say anything as he turned the shopping cart towards the checkout lines.

Outside he discreetly did a charm to make their load lighter and they headed back towards the house. Harry looked at his watch. It was lunch time and he wondered if his aunt and cousin would be home. He didn't want to be seen because they'd make trouble for him. There were 27 more days until Hogwarts and he didn't want to spend those days with them.

Petunia's car wasn't there when they got back and Harry hurried into the house anxiously.

"I believe they are in London," Snape said as Harry took the four bags of groceries he was carrying into the kitchen and set them on the counter.

"Sir?"

"Your relatives. I overheard them talking yesterday about a trip to London."

"Oh."

Harry didn't know which cupboards to put the food in so he watched where Snape put things so he could help next time, and then watched as the man made two sandwiches.

"You may eat the snack foods in your room provided that all trash, dishes, and crumbs make their way back to the kitchen before you go to bed at night. If I find ants in your room that will change."

"Yes sir," Harry said. Snape had put all of the junk food Harry had picked out in one cupboard and Harry took that to mean that it was now his cupboard.

Harry took the red bag of crisps and disappeared up the stairs, presumably to his room as Severus continued to put groceries away. The boy seemed... confused, but happy. At least happier than he had been in the last several weeks, and likely since he had gotten off the Hogwarts express to return home. Severus on the other hand had grown more and more perturbed since first finding out that Harry lived next door and was apparently not being treated well. The boy wasn't resistant to being helped it seemed, only to helping himself. He didn't ask for things he wanted or needed at all, and refused to tell Severus when he was hurt or feeling unwell. Whenever Severus asked him what he was thinking about or going through his eyes glazed over and he simply shut down. What was even more disturbing was that in going back over his dealings with the boy at Hogwarts he could think of many instances when the boy was unwilling to ask for help there as well, meaning that Severus had judged the boy's character wrong from the start.

Poppy often spoke of Harry's friends having to drag him to the Hospital Wing when he was sick instead of him going in on his own. The child never asked for help in any of his classes, (something Albus boasted about in staff meetings. "He's such a strong lad, don't you agree? He always figures out a solution on his own,"). Severus shook his head. Headstrong was the word he had thought whenever Albus boasted about him. Stubborn, and reckless. Harry failed to tell teachers about major issues he and his friends were dealing with, such as the Philosopher's stone, the basilisk in the walls, or Sirius Black.

As Severus poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to mull events over, he realized now that perhaps it wasn't recklessness and stubbornness that led Potter from one event to the next. It was only that he didn't like to rely on people, or perhaps didn't know how. That and not sticking up for himself, though Severus thought that this was probably a new part of Harry's personality. The only thing he had ever admired about the boy was the way he handled himself in those dangerous, reckless situations. He had now faced down Voldemort, or versions of him three times, and had also faced down Sirius Black before Harry knew the true events that had lead the man to be put into Azkaban. Severus had been trying to bring about Harry's defiant ‘stand up and fight' streak since he'd taken him from the orphanage, but how to get him to start asking for help when he needed it... he hadn't a clue how to tackle that issue. What he wanted was Dumbledore's advice, but he didn't fancy speaking to the man just now and bearing his wrath. He was certain the Headmaster had been notified by now by some sort of Ministry Magic that the boy's guardianship had changed to Severus, but he'd yet to hear a word of it. No, he'd rather wait until they were back at Hogwarts to deal with that cluster of basilisks.

* * *

"I have several things I must retrieve from Hogwarts in order to prepare for the upcoming school year."

Harry looked up from his spot on his bedroom floor where he was lying and writing his Charms essay.

"Ok," he said. Harry wasn't certain if that meant he'd be going with him or not, but the man answered his question with his next sentence.

"Can I assume you have enough to keep you occupied here until I return? I should not be gone longer than an hour."

Harry nodded. He only had another paragraph or two to finish up his Charms essay but after that he had planned on doing the reading for his Potions essay. He didn't want to think about the punishment he'd receive for not turning that in on time when the professor knew he'd had the time to complete it.

"Then I will return in one hour. After that I will make lunch and we can discuss going to get your school supplies." He turned and left the room and Harry wondered how that would go. He usually went to get his supplies with the Weasleys. The owl carrying the school supply list had come last night after dinner.

Harry finished his Charms essay and read over it and then thought that before starting his Potions essay it might be nice to make lunch so it would be ready when Snape returned. The man had been nice to him the last couple of weeks after all, feeding him, getting his money from the cafe, and liberating him from the orphanage, even if it was all just a ruse. Harry went downstairs and began pulling items out of the cupboard to make sandwiches. He was halfway through the first one when he heard loud noises outside. There was shouting and it sounded like some of the metal rubbish bins had been knocked over though he wasn't sure if it was their bins or not. Harry went to the living room window and saw nothing on the street, then went to another window, one that faced the Dursleys, and his insides chilled. Jason and another boy Harry didn't recognize were out in front of the Dursleys with Dudley. Dudley was on the ground on top of two knocked over rubbish bins and Jason was laughing as the other boy pushed Dudley down as he tried to get up. Suddenly Harry's fear of being discovered by his relatives was nowhere to be found. He didn't know what had seized him but something had and he ran out the front door and over to the other boys. He placed himself between the two boys from the orphanage and Dudley.

"Oh look, there's the liar now," Jason said with a laugh. "I wondered if yeh were dead bein' taken out by that loony tha' lives next to yer cousin."

"Not dead," Harry said, searching his mind for how Jason knew about his relation to Dudley but then remembering that he'd told him at the start of the summer.

"Not yet," said the nameless boy. He sounded like Kirk but his hair was different and he was dressed in nice clothes and expensive new trainers. Harry looked more closely and realized that it was Kirk. Kirk smirked.

"Just come back for a visit, yeah? Me new mum and dad bought me a lot of nice things and I convinced them to bring some nice things to the orphanage for the other boys too. They thought that was a respectable thing for me to do." He glared at Harry. "See somehow they got the impression that I was a troublemaker. That I was throttling other kids. They set me to a strict schedule and enrolled me in a military school to set me straight." Here he ran his hand over his short and very strict looking new haircut.

Some of Harry's former courage left him as he realized that Kirk was there not to torment Dudley, but to find Harry and throttle him again. Dudley was just the bait since they knew Harry was living with Snape next door.

"You know them Harry?" Dudley asked, trying to extricate himself from the rubbish bins and finally managing to stand up behind him. There was a shake to Dudley's voice and for just a brief moment Harry wondered what Dudley had thought about his cousin's disappearance or if he'd even noticed he was gone at all.

"Yes," Harry ground out. His fists were balled up. He wondered if aunt Petunia was home or even Uncle Vernon. He was half afraid Dudley was going to switch sides and grab him from behind.

"He looks afraid Kirk," Jason said. "They both do."

"Oh, don't be afraid Spit Licker. You know it isn't that bad."

"You'd better go inside," Harry said to Dudley, and at that moment they heard Aunt Petunia standing in the door somewhere behind them calling to Dudley. "Dudley, come here. Right now, come along. You don't need to be involved. Come inside," she pleaded with him.

Harry could feel Dudley backing up towards the sound of his mother's voice, and a smirk broke out on Kirk's face again as Jason gave a chuckle. "Now he is smart isn't he," Kirk said. They both lunged at Harry at the same time and knocked him to the ground on top of the rubbish bins. Harry struck the air twice and then hit something solid but wasn't sure how much damage he'd done to the other person since the blows kept coming down on him. Instead of trying to fight he focused on covering his face and head and hoped he wouldn't need too much bone regrowth potion after this was over. It seemed like forever until the blows stopped making contact with his body but was only a few moments. Harry opened his eyes as Jason shouted and Kirk cursed. Harry looked through his hands and arms. Snape was standing there clad all in black in the bright sunlight and Jason was on the ground looking dazed behind him. Snape had Kirk by the arm and both looked murderous. Harry looked around for Dudley and Aunt Petunia but they were gone and the front door was closed. He supposed they had probably locked themselves inside.

"Let go of me you bastard," Kirk said, trying to wrench his arm free, but Snape held tight, jaw set firmly and lips in a thin line.

"I think not," he said.

"My dad's police."

"Good," Severus said, "then he'll be here shortly, and all of the witnesses involved can give their side of the story to him."

Kirk looked around and realized now that several other neighbors were standing outside or in their open front doors. He struggled for a moment and tried to hit Snape in the face, but in one swift move Snape had moved out of the way and was now holding both of Kirk's arms from behind. A siren sounded briefly and Harry tore his eyes away from the scene before him to see that a police car was pulling up. As the officer stepped out of his car Harry watched the man's eyes travel from Snape, who was just letting go of Kirk, to Jason who still looked dazed, to Harry lying between the fallen rubbish bins, covered in blood and beginning to bruise.

"Allrigh' lads, what's goin' on here?"

Kirk began shouting right away. "This creep came out of nowhere and began hitting us officer! My dad's an officer!"

The officer frowned and then looked to Snape as he was the only adult who seemed to be involved.

"I came home from an errand and found these two on top of my son hitting him. I cannot speak to how it started." He motioned to Harry on the ground and noted that Harry's eyes were glazed over again.

The officer turned to Harry. "What's your side?"

Harry looked up and then let his eyes drop back to the ground somewhere near the officer's feet. "I heard some noise and looked out the window. They were trying to beat up Dudley so I came out."

"He's lyin!" Jason shouted, but the officer held up a hand to quiet him.

"Dudley?"

Harry motioned behind him to the Dursley's front door and the officer ignored everyone else for a moment as he walked up the steps and path to knock on the door. Aunt Petunia opened it and looked past the officer to Harry with disdain.

"I need to speak with Dudley."

"It's those awful boys," Petunia said, "the lot of them," she added. "They started this. My Dudley's got nothing to do with it."

"Tell him to come out," the officer said and she moved aside to reveal Dudley, who looked irritated more than anything else.

"They started it," he said. "The ugly two. They jumped me and then my cousin came running out of nowhere and told them to shove off."

"And your cousin is?"

Dudley pointed to Harry who was now picking himself up off the ground.

"I heard what that man - Snape said," Petunia interrupted, pushing her way back into the conversation. "He's not Harry's father. He's a liar. Harry ran away weeks ago. He's thrown his lot in with those hoodlums."

"Maam, those boys are from the orphanage over on Gilbert Road. Is the other boy - Harry, really your nephew?"

"Yes! We have custody of him! Not that we want him back after he's brought those boys around here to hurt Dudley."

The officer was about to ask for proof but Snape had pulled, seemingly from thin air, proof that he was Harry's legal guardian and walked it up to the officer on Petunia's front step.

"Ridiculous," she said, but turned her nose up at the papers, not wanting to look at them. "Good riddance to him. You can take him." With that sorted out the officer walked back to Kirk and his friend. Several elderly neighbors had come over now to tell the officer what they had seen, and their story corroborated what Harry, Dudley, and Snape had told him.

Snape and Dudley watched with some satisfaction as the officer loaded up the two boys and the bicycle into his car and drove away towards the orphanage, but Harry's eyes were glazed over when Snape turned back to him again.

"Go inside," he said, and Harry did as he was told, followed closely by Snape. Harry didn't turn back to look at his aunt and cousin, but knew that they were watching him go into the house just next door. Now they knew where he was, and on top of that Snape was mad at him for getting into a fight. He shouldn't have gone out of the house.

Snape swept past Harry and into the kitchen and Harry stopped where he was and just stood there. Was he going to get a wooden spoon to hit him with? That's what Aunt Petunia would have done, and he still half expected her to come barging in the front door with a wooden spoon any moment.

Severus came back into the living room a moment later with a handful of potions and bruise balms and found Harry staring at the front door.

"Lock it if you are worried about it," he said, and Harry turned to stare at him blankly, and then went and locked the door.

"Sit."

Harry went to the couch and did as he was told.

"I'm sorry," he started off right away. It was better to apologize first off. Then maybe his punishment wouldn't be quite as bad.

"For what?" He began unscrewing a lid off a jar of bruise balm.

"Going outside," Harry said.

"You were not banned from going out, though I am surprised that you did."

Harry eyed him warily.

"It happened as you told the officer?"

"They pushed Dudley down and I heard the racket."

"I did not realize you and your cousin were that close."

"What do you mean?"

"You do not fight back for yourself, but you put yourself in danger for him."

Harry heaved a sigh and then realized that his face hurt when Snape touched his cheek below his eye with the cold balm. Harry flinched and pulled back, but then held still when he realized that Snape was still waiting to put on the balm.

"You are a mystery," Snape said as he began applying the balm. Harry looked up and held his gaze for a moment. He didn't think he was a mystery. Snape was a mystery. He flinched when Snape touched a particularly tender spot above his bruised eye.

"I want to know why you do not fight back."

I know you do, Harry thought to himself, but remained silent. Why should he fight back? It was just what he was used to. It was always worse if he fought back. Fighting back meant he had a reason to. Fighting back was holding on to a belief he'd let go of a long time ago. He could barely remember what it felt like to believe he was worth the trouble. No one else thought he was anyhow.

Severus felt perturbed when Harry's eyes glazed over again. Stubborn child, he thought to himself, but then stopped himself from saying it out loud. Maybe he wasn't stubborn. Just what he was though Severus didn't know.

After putting the bruise balm on Harry's face, neck, arms and wrists he stood up and went to put the potions and balms away. Harry stayed where he was on the couch. Harry was out of the orphanage, so why was Snape keeping up this ruse of adopting him? Well, maybe he had to today to keep Harry from going back to the Dursleys, but he didn't have to go and tell that officer that Harry was his son. He wasn't. Harry had had exactly one father and he was long gone. He wished Snape would just drop it already. It was cruel to lead Harry to think that he had someone- anyone at all to be there for him. It was better if Harry didn't get his hopes up. The fall wouldn't be as hard later if he didn't.

Harry supposed he was past feeling uncomfortable around Snape. They'd been living together for several weeks now. They'd dealt with the orphanage, the police, the cafe manager, Aunt Petunia, the bullies, broken bones and bruises... no, he wasn't uncomfortable going downstairs to sit on the living room couch anymore to read a book or do his homework. In fact, he and Snape had fallen into a comfortable routine. Harry would come down in the morning and fix himself a bowl of cereal and start the coffee brewing. A few minutes later Snape would come down, pour himself a cup of coffee, retrieve the Daily Prophet from the window ledge where the owl usually dropped it, and sit down to read across the table from Harry. Harry would get up and do his dishes and then disappear up to his room for a couple of hours. Then he'd bring his schoolwork down to the living room just before lunch and start reading. Then Snape would make lunch for them both and - why was the radio on?

Harry looked up from his book at the sound coming from the kitchen. It was definitely a Muggle station. He could hear the sounds of lunch being made, but the radio was new. Well, at least Snape wasn't singing. There was some other sound that peaked Harry's curiosity however, and he rose to see what it was. As he came around the corner to the kitchen he saw Snape... shuffling? He wasn't sure. It might have been dancing, or swaying. Ron would never believe him. The counter was covered in flasks and jars of something bubbling on the stove. He clearly wasn't fixing lunch.

"That's not- that's not lunch is it?"

Snape stopped dancing and looked over at Harry. He looked uncomfortable (finally!) but turned around to hide it. Hah, Harry thought.

"You have cleaned out my stock of bruise balm and healing potions. With your track record I anticipate the need for more in the future."

Harry frowned and looked at the calendar tacked on the wall that featured famous Potioneers. There were several days circled on the calendar that were supposedly the peak times to gather certain ingredients or brew certain classes of potions. Harry ignored those dates in favor of counting the days until Hogwarts.

"There's only 12 days to Hogwarts," Harry said.

"And you think you won't get into trouble again before then?" Snape asked.

"No-" Harry started. That wasn't what he meant. What need would Snape have for those healing potions after he went to Hogwarts? It wasn't like he'd be coming back. He could go to Madam Pomfrey if he got hurt. Ron and Hermione always dragged him to the Hospital Wing anyways.

"We will be going to Diagonalley in two days. I must also return to Hogwarts for a day to get things ready for the term. If we go to get your school things early perhaps you can pay a visit to the Weasleys while I am at the castle."

"You'll take me to see them?"

"Unless you wish to stay here and get into another brawl."

"I'll go," Harry said. He turned to leave Snape to his brewing and - music, but then stopped and asked, "We get to go to Danger Alley too, right?"

"I think not."

"What's there anyway? It can't be worse than Knockturn."

"And you would know what is down Knockturn Alley how?"

"I came out the wrong floo when I went to get school supplies with the Weasleys."

"What store did you come out in?"

"Borgin and Burkes."

"Borgin and Burkes is an ice cream parlour compared to the businesses that are run out of Danger Alley. Reputable witches and wizards sometimes have cause to go to shops on Knockturn, but there are none that would step foot on Danger Alley."

"What do you go down Knocturn Alley for?"

"Rare and hard to find potions ingredients. Also many of the wizarding lawyers in London are down Knockturn because rent is cheaper and there is more business to be found."

"What's down Danger Alley?"

"Several disreputable services, such as blood collection services to feed London's vampire population, the headquarters of several cults, a Goblin Pub, and it is well known that the slave trade is run out of Danger Alley."

"The slave trade?"

"For human slaves... many of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers take human slaves into service to take care of their households. Unregistered vampires also frequently take slaves to feed off of, and sometimes slaves are traded to and from other wizarding communities. I would advise not going down Danger Alley if you do not fancy finding yourself in service of a vampire."

"Is there any good reason to go down there?"

"Are you looking for one?"

"No. Just curious. I don't even know where it is. I never heard of it before you said something about it."

"Most of it is underground under the streets of London. This allows vampires to use it during daylight hours. No, there's no good reason to go there. Even the Aurors avoid it if they can, and when they have to go they go in force."

"Well-" Harry said, "Maybe someday I'll see it, if I get to be an auror."

"The last thing you need is to put yourself in more danger."

* * *

Harry and Snape were on Diagonalley just as the sun rose before most of the shops opened up. This allowed them to get to Harry's bank vault and then get through Harry's school shopping before most shoppers arrived on the alley. It was barely eight when Harry asked Snape if they could make one last stop into the Quidditch supply store. Severus agreed and was curious to see if Harry would go and oggle the new line of brooms or waste his money on other Quidditch gear. Harry did look at the brooms briefly, but passed them over after a few minutes to go to the clothing section. He bought himself a grey Falmouth Falcon's t-shirt, a dark blue Falcon's hoodie, and a blue and grey Falcon's beanie. He also bought an orange Cannon's beanie and then returned to Snape by the door.

"Cannons?" he asked.

"For Ron," Harry said.

"The Cannons will not come close to the World Cup this year."

"Yeah, but don't tell Ron that," Harry said.

"Neither will the Falcons," Snape said, and then glanced sideways to see how Harry would react.

Harry snorted. "That's what you think. They have a new Chaser. Lightning O'Leary. Straight off the Tornados."

"Puddlemere will take the Falcon's by March and they'll be out."

"Psh. Puddlemere? No wonder you like green so much."

"Meaning?"

"Seems like most of the Slytherins like Puddlemere. What with the colors being green and black."

"Much of the house does support Puddlemere, but there are a great many who are Falmouth fans and a smattering of other team supporters. Mr. Malfoy supports the Falcons."

"Well that's lovely," Harry said in mock interest.

"I'm surprised the two of you are not friends."

"Could you set up a play date for us?"

Snape and Harry looked at each other and then looked back down the alley as they walked, a discreet smile worn by both.

* * *

There was still fog hanging low on the fields surrounding the Burrow when Snape disapparated and left Harry there with his school things. Snape had barely stayed long enough to verify that there was smoke coming out of the chimney before he had gone to take care of business at Hogwarts. Harry hopped a low stone wall with his purchases and headed to the Weasley's door, hoping he wouldn't be intruding on them since he hadn't asked to come and visit. As he approached the door he could hear sounds of life inside. Ron was shouting about something the twins had done and Ginny was laughing. Harry breathed deeply of the fresh country air and felt suddenly like he was home. He loved the Weasleys and he loved the Burrow. He only wished he could have spent his entire summer here instead of wandering the alleys of Swanage and living in the boy's home.

Before he got a chance to knock the door opened to reveal a surprised Ron with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth.

"Harry?" he asked, though it was muffled by the toast.

"Can I come to visit for the day?"

He moved aside and let Harry in. Mrs. Weasley was just putting breakfast on the table and it looked like everyone was just sitting down to eat.

"Harry dear! We wondered if you were here when the clock changed." She swooped in for a hug and then took Harry's bags from him and set them by the door before ushering him into a seat. "We wondered if we'd be seeing you at all this summer! Who brought you by?" She said it all in a rush and Harry didn't know what to say until he ran it all back through in his mind.

"The clock?" He asked.

She pointed to the family clock above the mantelpiece. It was the same as the year before with all the family names, but Harry's name had been added now. He noted that Hermione's had not despite that she was also close to the Weasleys. "We thought it was broken," Ron said. "All summer your hand has been back and forth between danger and home. Each time it points to home we look outside to see if you've come. That's why I opened the door. But I didn't figure you'd be standing there."

"Ron and I thought you were off on some grand adventure," Ginny said as she put some toast and bacon on Harry's plate. "Mum's been having a fit though every time your hand goes to danger."

Mrs. Weasley tsked. "I owled the Headmaster a few times-", "Try twenty," Fred butted in. Mrs. Weasley ignored him and continued on, "but he said there were circumstances we weren't aware of and that you were fine."

Harry held up his hands to show her he was fine, or at least fine now after Snape had gotten him away from Kirk and the Dursleys.

"What have you been up to young man?" Mr. Weasley asked as he too took a seat at the table. Everyone quieted and looked at Harry, who suddenly felt very put on the spot.

"Erm... I don't know if you'd believe me if I told you," he said, hoping they'd take that as an answer.

"Fighting dragons for a golden egg?" George asked.

"No, giant fanged snakes," Fred said.

"Escapees from Azkaban," Ginny chimed in.

Harry's face turned red and Ron nudged him with his foot under the table and whispered, "Dueling You-Know-Who."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Something like that," he said.

"All of it?" Ginny asked.

"Would you like me to make something up?" Harry asked.

"We don't do secrets in this house," Molly said as she brought him a cup of orange juice.

"Yes maam," he said. He could always tell them the truth and then say he'd made it all up. Then again there was always the possibility that they'd believe him. What should he say though? Snape adopted me to save me from an orphanage that I voluntarily put myself in? But it was a lie. Snape hadn't really adopted him.

"I went shopping this morning for my school books," Harry said instead. If they continued to ask him questions he supposed he'd tell them the truth. He didn't like lying to the Weasleys when they'd taken him in time and again, not to mention saved him from his jail cell in a flying car.

"We're going to get ours today," Ginny said as she finished her eggs. It looked like the red-headed family was still waiting for the rest of the story though so Harry forged on.

"And then Professor Snape dropped me off here because he had to go to Hogwarts for the day and he didn't want to leave me at home because the last time he did I got into a fight with neighborhood kids and the police got involved." It sounded rather mundane when he said it like that. It was a lot more anxiety inducing going through it.

"Severus Snape?" Molly asked.

"Yes."

"You make it sound like you're staying with him," Ron said. Ron's tone told Harry that his friend thought it was a joke. The twins looked like they thought the same.

"Well- I am. Until I go back to Hogwarts."

"Professor Dumbledore said you were being looked after," Arthur said. Harry wondered what Snape had told Dumbledore about his summer then and how much Dumbledore had told the Weasleys. He probably told them everything if they had really owled him twenty times just about Harry.

"Why?" Ron asked. "What's it like at his house?"

"It's just for the summer," Harry said. Then the thought struck him with all the reminders that they'd given him, that he'd done enough crazy things since he'd met the Weasleys that they might just believe anything he said, or at least the Weasley children would. There was no need to tell them about how he'd run away because of the beatings and ended up in an orphanage just to receive the same. "I snuck away from my relatives and went to Danger Alley. I got into some trouble with some vampires and they decided it was best if I stayed with Snape for the rest of the summer."

Fred dropped his fork, and there was silence for several long moments. The twins, Ron and Ginny looked shocked.

"Danger Alley?" Mr. Weasley asked. He seemed skeptical but Harry's friends didn't seem to pick up on his tone.

Harry shrugged and looked at his plate of eggs.

"Alright, that's enough questions for now," Molly chided them. "Let him eat or we won't have enough time to go to Diagonalley." Harry picked up his fork and began eating despite that he'd already had breakfast that morning with Snape, and was aware that Molly was watching him from the kitchen counter.

Ron and Ginny went upstairs when they were done eating to finish getting ready to leave and the twins went to a corner of the living room to pour over a list of things they wanted to buy for their joke business, most of which were potions ingredients. Molly began casting spells to clean the kitchen and Harry was just thinking about going upstairs to Ron's room when Mr. Weasley asked him to join him outside.

"I have to go buy some more floo powder," he said. "There's a wizard down the lane who makes it. "Why don't you walk with me Harry while the others are getting ready."

Harry followed him out and into the garden. They were quiet for a while as they walked and Harry just enjoyed being in the crisp morning air.

"Molly and I were worried. So were the children."

"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerely. "I didn't know you had a hand for me on the clock. I didn't mean to worry you."

Arthur raised his hand to stop Harry's apologies. "It's alright Harry. I don't think you have anything to be sorry for."

That wasn't true, Harry thought, mind flickering to Cedric Diggory's lifeless body, but before he could think overmuch on the events at the end of the last school year Mr. Weasley was talking again.

"You didn't go to Danger Alley, did you?" Harry looked up at him but before he could answer Mr. Weasley said, "The Ministry keeps a pretty detailed list of who comes and goes out of the alley. I have to look at it every morning to be sure no Muggles have been taken in for the slave trade."

Harry stuck his hands in his pockets.

"I know Molly and I aren't your parents, but we do consider you family. You don't have to tell me what's gone on this summer, but if you want to, I'd like to hear it."

Harry wasn't used to adults wanting to hear what he'd been through. Except Snape, but that was still new and strange to him, and he never spoke to Snape about things beyond the daily pleasantries and recently the banter back and forth about Quidditch and school houses and other trivial things.

They continued on down the lane for a few minutes in silence before Harry decided to say something because he felt awkward just walking with Ron's father and not talking. "Professor Snape did bring me today. I am staying with him until school starts."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "He seems like the choice Professor Dumbledore would make if you needed safekeeping."

"Professor Dumbledore didn't put me there," Harry said. "My relatives moved in next door to Professor Snape. I ran away and ended up living at an orphanage. I told them my name was Harry Weasley."

"You did?" Mr. Weasley asked with surprise, though Harry wasn't sure if he was surprised about Harry running away or him using their last name. Maybe both.

"Snape found out I was there and he lied to the lady at the orphanage. He signed some papers and told her he was adopting me and took me back to his house to keep me until Hogwarts starts."

"He lied?"

"Yeah. He said he was going to adopt me so she'd give him the papers and let me out." It occurred to Harry just then that he didn't really ‘need' Snape to take him out. He could have just left. The woman who ran the orphanage had said that there had been runaways before and no one had come after him when he'd disappeared overnight and all of the next day.

They were silent for a few more moments before Mr. Weasley said, "In the years I've known Professor Snape, I've never known him to lie. I've seen him twist truths as a spy, but he's never lied outright."

Harry gave him a look like he didn't know what he was talking about but then felt bad because Mr. Weasley had always been so nice to him. "I'm just with him until Hogwarts, that's all. He should be back to get me sometime later today. I think he said at dinner."

Mr. Weasley pointed down a short drive to a one story house and they turned off the lane. It only took a few minutes for Mr. Weasley to barter at the front door with the wizard for a sack of floo powder and then they were on their way back to the Burrow. Mr. Weasley didn't ask any more questions and Harry didn't offer up any more details. The others all seemed to be ready when they got back.

Harry dug into his shopping bags for the orange cap and gave it to Ron, who thanked him and stuck it on a hook by the door with a peeling tag above it that read, ‘Ronald's Things.'

"All right you lot, line up at the mantle. Harry and Ron, you can go through first, then the twins. We'll split up to get supplies. Molly will go with the twins and I'll go with Harry, Ron and Ginny. We'll meet back at the Leaky Cauldron before noon."

Because Harry had already bought his supplies he was just along for the trip with his friends. This time when he stepped out onto the alley it was full of shoppers.

"Did you really go to Danger Alley?" Ron asked when they had a moment to themselves in Flourish and Blotts.

"No," Harry admitted.

"And you're not staying with Snape either?"

"I am," Harry said. "He'll be back to get me around dinner."

"Why are you staying with him then?"

"I ran away. Danger Alley just sounded better in front of everybody than running away and having to have Snape come and save me."

"Is he at least treating you ok?"

"He feeds me crisps and fizzy drinks when he locks me in the dungeon under the house," Harry said. He glanced sideways to see that Ron's mouth was hanging slightly open. "I'm kidding, ok?" He gave a short laugh and Ron shook his head. "I'm fine Ron. I spend most of my time by myself doing my summer homework. He did buy me crisps and fizzy drinks though."

"Ok, well since you're not with your family anymore, you're definitely spending the holidays with us and staying next summer at my house. No more Dursleys, no more Snape."

"Sounds good," Harry said, although he thought that so far staying with Snape hadn't been that bad.

Harry had a few Galleons left in his pocket and spent it on a subscription to a Quidditch Magazine, a dueling book, and a bag full of candy to share with his friends on the train to Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, though he did give some to Ron and Ginny as soon as they got back to the Burrow. He spent the rest of the day under the shade of a tree with Ron and Ginny talking about the upcoming school year and who the new Defense Professor might be. Before Harry knew it, it was nearing dinner and Snape had appeared at the edge of the Weasley's yard. Harry said goodbye to his friends and went inside with Ron to retrieve his bags from his two trips to Diagonalley and Hedwig and her cage. While Harry was inside, Arthur came out and to the gate where Severus waited.

"Nice to see you Severus," he said.

"Likewise."

"You look well."

"And you."

Arthur toyed with a broken piece of the gate for a moment before asking seriously, "Did you adopt Harry?"

"He told you?"

"He says you lied to get him out of an orphanage after he ran away."

Severus sighed. "He does not believe I adopted him. I told him that Muggle papers are binding in wizarding law when involving wizards."

Arthur gave a nod. "When he said you signed papers I knew."

Severus surveyed Arthur's face. "You wish to protest the adoption?"

Arthur shook his head. "No." Then he did something that Severus Snape would never have expected him to. He reached out and took Snape's hand to shake it. "I want to thank you for getting Harry out of that house... away from those people. Albus was Harry's Proxy Guardian and we petitioned him several times to get custody of Harry but were always denied. Each summer when he came back to us we saw how he'd changed... become more withdrawn than the year before... smiled less, seemed more nervous... You're aware that the boys flew the Ford Anglia to Little Whinging to break him out from his room two years ago? The Muggles had bars across his window and had the door locked so he couldn't leave."

"I was aware of an incident with the car before they came to school but wasn't privy to the details."

"Harry ending up in the orphanage is a blessing. It allowed you to sign papers that takes the proxy away from Albus. He's a good man Severus, we both know that, but I don't think he was doing what was best for Harry."

Severus sighed again. "I did not intend on taking the boy. I did not intend on seeing the boy at all this summer."

"And you're not sure yet if it's a blessing?"

"I have not said anything about blessings."

Arthur gave a nod. "Take good care of him Severus. I know I don't have to tell you that. I really am pleased that he's being taken care of now. If you ever need help with anything regarding Harry, please let us know."

Severus gave a nod just as the back door opened to let Ron and Harry out. "Is it ok if I bring Hedwig back?" Harry asked, carrying her cage. He'd missed her this summer. She could probably have helped him find food if she'd been with him.

"Yes."

"Bye Ron," Harry said, and gave him a small wave. Ron handed Harry's bags to Snape who took them, and then he took Harry's arm and they disapparated back to Harry's strange new reality.

Harry stood next to the rubbish bin and stared at the for sale sign in front of the Dursley's new house. He must have been staring for several minutes, because he usually made it back inside the house from taking out the morning's trash before Uncle Vernon left for work. Now the Dursley's front door opened however, and Vernon came out with his briefcase. He walked down the front steps and made it to his shiny new car before he seemed to sense that he was being watched. He opened the door and then turned and stared at Harry. Harry blinked and stared back.

With a grunt, Vernon got into the car, closed the door and drove away. Harry wondered where they were moving to. There was a stack of empty boxes on the front porch, presumably for them to pack their belongings back into.

Harry went back inside and sat down at the table to eat the breakfast Snape had made for him. He waited until Snape set his morning paper down to eat some toast before he said, "There's a for sale sign next door."

"I have seen."

Harry frowned, and wondered if Snape knew that this was his absolute last chance to send him back to the Dursleys. If they moved, they'd never find them again. They might not even be staying in Swanage.

"After breakfast we will go shopping for groceries."

Harry looked up and raised his brows. "Do we need any more? The train leaves in two days."

"I assume you will require a lunch for the train."

"Er-"

Snape set his paper down and looked up at him again, waiting for him to say whatever was apparently on his mind.

"I've never taken a lunch on the train before. I usually spend the last few sickles I have on candy for lunch. Sometimes Ron's mum makes me something."

Severus shook his head and muttered something that Harry thought was, "Muggles."

"I will give you a lunch box charmed to keep food hot or cold and you will take a proper meal."

Harry couldn't complain about that. He cleared away his breakfast dishes and Snape got into a cupboard and pulled out a green fabric lunch box.

"Tap it with your wand and say ‘hot' ‘warm' or ‘cold' and it will keep whatever is inside at the appropriate temperature for eight hours."

"Thanks," Harry said, and pushed it against the wall on the counter so he could put food in it the morning of the train ride.

At the grocery store later that morning Snape told Harry to pick out two fruits, a vegetable, lunch meat, bread, cheese, crisps and a drink. Then they took them home and put them in the fridge next to the dwindling groceries. There was just enough for the last day and lunch for the train ride.

"I assume you have not procrastinated on your homework and have finished it all?"

Harry reached into a drawer in the kitchen he had taken over for his school work and pulled out a small pile of essays.

"Done," he said.

Snape held out his hand, took them, and then rifled through them until he found the Potions essay.

"This is passable," he commented a few minutes later, and then handed it back to Harry.

Harry took the parchments and turned towards the stairs so he could put them in his trunk but Snape said behind his back, "However, if you were to look in chapter thirteen of your fourth year Potion's texts you would find information that if added might take your grade from acceptable to Exceeds Expectations."

Harry paused, bottom foot on the first stair. "What if I didn't want to Exceed Expectations?"

"That is your choice." Harry could tell that the man was irritated.

"I mean, what if I wanted to get an O instead."

Snape raised his brow. "I only give Outstandings to those who have gone above and beyond the required assignment to relate the material to other things they have learned or chosen to research."

"Huh."

Snape went back into the kitchen and Harry continued up the stairs. He had nothing else to do for the rest of the day or tomorrow aside from pack, so he might as well spend it getting a better grade. Hermione would be proud of me, he thought, though he doubted he'd get an O or even an E. The highest grade he'd ever gotten in Potions was Acceptable. He usually only got an O in Defense and sometimes in Charms.

Harry pulled out his fourth year Potions text and read chapter 13. Snape was right, there were a few paragraphs that were helpful, and he added the information into his essay. How would he go above and beyond though? He'd written about everything the text had available on the essay topic. His eyes fell on the stack of new textbooks recently purchased at Diagonalley and he went over and pulled out the fifth year Potions text. He couldn't read the entire thing in two days. Maybe if he flipped through the index and glossary. His finger scanned down the index and he noted several pages that he wanted to look at and then flipped through to those pages. It was a lot more work than he'd bargained for however, because he didn't entirely understand what he was reading, and ended up having to read three entire chapters. In the end, Harry ended up re-writing his essay to include all of the new information. He didn't know if it was enough to get him an O, but he was satisfied with the essay and felt like he'd done a good job with it. Is this what Hermione felt every time she finished an essay?

* * *

Harry had just finished packing his lunch (with extra crisps for his friends) along with the remaining candy he had from Diagonalley, when Snape came up behind him.

"Here."

Harry turned and saw that Snape was holding out a handful of wizarding coins.

"What's this for?"

"I do not wish to break your tradition of gorging yourself on candy and making yourself sick on the train ride to school."

"You're giving me money for candy?"

"That is what I said."

Harry took the money. It was just a few sickles but it was enough for fresh pumpkin juice, a cauldron cake, and some licorice wands.

"Thank you."

Snape ignored the thanks and instead asked, "Are you packed?"

"Yes."

"I expect that your grades will remain high this term and that I will not be receiving constant notifications of detentions."

Harry frowned as he pulled his full lunch box off the counter. "Why would they notify you?"

Severus gave him a stern look and then said, "It is policy that guardians are notified of detentions."

"But once we're back at Hogwarts-"

"I will still be your guardian."

Harry rubbed his free hand on his pants as if it was sweaty and then disappeared, presumably to bring his trunk downstairs.

Severus sighed. The boy had told the Weasleys that he was only staying with Severus until Hogwarts. Hopefully after they returned to Hogwarts Harry would stop thinking that the new guardianship was all some sort of elaborate ruse.

Harry brought his trunk down and set it next to Hedwig's cage and a few minutes later Severus apparated them to platform 9 ¾.

Hedwig hooted and ruffled her feathers at the sudden buzz of excitement that was going on around them. Students and parents were everywhere wheeling trolleys around with luggage as stray pets wandered in the crowd or flew overhead.

"Did you set up that play date with Draco yet?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling anxious and not being certain why. He hoped Snape would say something funny to take his mind off of it.

"I'm sure I could arrange it," Severus said and Harry looked up at Severus and gave him a frown before he realized that he was also joking.

A redhead appeared in the crowd and Harry recognized Mr. Weasley.

"I will see you at the feast," Severus said as Harry took a step towards the Weasleys.

Harry turned and wasn't sure if he should say goodbye, or thank the man for giving him a place to stay for the rest of the summer and healing him. Instead he settled for a quiet, "Ok," and then went towards the Weasleys with his luggage.

The Weasley's greeted Harry warmly and it was only a few minutes before they had all of their luggage in a compartment and were saying their goodbyes. Hermione made it to their compartment a few minutes later. After the train pulled away from the station the twins took their things to an empty compartment to work on their new line of things to sell and Ron and Hermione disappeared to the Prefect's compartment for a meeting, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

"Ok Harry?" she asked.

He looked up and realized he'd been just staring at his hands for several long minutes.

"Huh? Yeah."

"You looked lost in thought."

Harry shrugged. He'd been thinking about Cedric. Maybe that's why he was anxious. He'd come back from the maze with Cedric's dead body and then a few days later school was over. What did people think about him all summer? Did they even know what had happened? And what about Cedric's family? How were they doing?

"Harry?"

"Cedric," he said, and Ginny got up and crossed the compartment to sit on the bench next to him.

He'd been too busy just trying to stay alive all summer to really think about Cedric aside from in passing. He wasn't sure how to feel about the whole incident anyhow. He was sad that Cedric died and uncertain about Voldemort's return. But he didn't really know Cedric that well. He wasn't friends with him. Somehow Harry felt like he was doing something wrong by not feeling more sorry for Cedric. Compared to all the raw emotions of the summer Harry just felt numb about him.

"I heard they put up a statue of Cedric," Ginny said. "In the Hufflepuff corridor. Dad said the plaque reads ‘Cedric the Decent.'"

Harry sighed. When he died fighting Voldemort there wouldn't be a statue or a plaque. He wasn't really sure anybody would be sorry to see him die at all except maybe the Weasleys (and Snape) though he wondered where the thought about Snape had suddenly come from. Everyone would probably just feel numb about him and think to themselves, ‘I didn't know Harry that well. He seemed like an ok guy but I wasn't friends with him.'

"What do you think Harry?"

"Huh?" He looked up at Ginny.

"We should go see the statue when we get back. I brought flowers from the garden to put at the base of it."

"Yeah. Sounds good."

Ron and Hermione came back to the compartment before lunch and told Harry and Ginny about various things that had been in the meeting. Apparently the new Defense Professor was from the Ministry and her name was Dolores Umbridge. There were also new rules about visiting Hogsmeade and going out on the grounds after dark.

Finally the conversation turned from school to how their summers had gone. Hermione asked Harry about his but he didn't feel much like talking so Ron spoke up for him instead. "Harry spent the summer with Snape."

Harry ignored the questioning look Hermione sent his way and instead dug in his lunch box for his crisps and opened them up for his friends. "What?" Harry asked when they were all looking at him. "He's not that bad. Look, he sent me with crisps."

"He feeds Harry crisps and fizzy drinks when he locks him in the basement," Ron said in as serious a tone as he could, drawing a look from Hermione that finally made Harry laugh. Harry pulled out his only fizzy drink and opened it as if to make a point.

"Harry, why did you stay with Professor Snape?"

"He said I had to stay with him until I wrote an Outstanding summer Potions essay."

"Harry-"

"What? I'm a troublemaker. They had to put me somewhere where I'd stay out of trouble."

"I know you better than that. You never go looking for trouble, it always finds you."

"That's what I say," Harry said.

"Harry said he went to Danger Alley," Ginny said.

"It's not true," Harry said.

"I know. Hermione's right. We know you wouldn't go there. Besides, you're too secretive to tell us what you really did this summer."

"Dragons," Ron said.

"Hippogriffs," Ginny put in.

Hermione shook her head but with her three friends looking at her and waiting for her to pipe up blew a puff of air up at her bangs and said, "Trolls."

They spent the afternoon talking about Quidditch, classes, and occasionally visiting with others who came by their compartment. When it was dark they changed into their robes and packed all of their things away to get ready to leave the train. When it finally slowed and came to a stop they allowed the corridors to clear some before leaving their compartment. Harry was relieved to see that everyone was too busy and things were too chaotic for people to be staring at him and whispering about him.

The twins held a carriage for them but rode on a separate one with their own friends.

"What d'you reckon Harry?" Ron asked as he pointed to the twins after they'd been dropped off at the steps leading up to the castle. "Think they're ashamed to be seen with us since they're seventh years now?"

"Probably," Harry laughed.

"Then maybe we ought to embarrass them."

"Aren't they working on pranks to sell?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, so?"

"If you embarrass them they're going to test them all on you first."

"They already have been all summer. I found pudding in my pillow when I woke up this morning, and troll snot on my toothbrush."

"Well if you've got nothing to lose-" Harry said.

"Careful Ron," Ginny said as they walked along with the noisy crowd towards the Great Hall. "Their next joke could involve spiders."

Ron shuddered and Harry and Ginny laughed. A hand reached out to stop them and they stopped however. It was a woman with short curly brown hair and a pale pink blouse and gray skirt. She was only as tall as Harry was.

"Excuse me," she said in a sweet voice. "Did you say you were planning to pull a prank involving spiders?"

"Erm-" Ron stuttered. "No- we, ah-"

"No maam," Harry said for his friend. This must be their new defense professor. "I'm sorry Professor Umbridge," Harry said. "We were talking about something his brothers did to him when he was younger. They turned his teddy bear into a spider."

"That doesn't sound very pleasant does it?" she asked.

Ron shook his head.

"No maam," Harry said.

She looked directly at Harry and said, "I highly suggest that you do not involve yourself in any prank pulling or wrongdoing this year Mr. Potter. I would be very disappointed to find that you have as many detentions this year as you have had in your previous years."

"Yes maam," Harry said. He got the distinct feeling that she didn't like him.

"Very well," she said, and walked off, leaving them to go into the feast.

"Is it just me-" Harry started to ask, but Hermione stopped him.

"No. Something didn't seem right there."

"Why is it always the Defense Professor?" Ron asked.

"The position is cursed," Ginny reminded him.

The feast seemed to go by agonizingly slow for Harry. He noticed that several people were staring at him throughout, including Professor Umbridge. She seemed very interested in everything he was doing including what he was putting on his plate. This made him feel like he should put extra vegetables on his plate and not take any pudding at all. Snape he noted also seemed to be watching him but he only caught him looking his way twice. Several Hufflepuffs at the next table kept whispering things and Harry distinctly heard Cedric's name, and people from Ravenclaw and Slytherin were looking at them as well.

"Yeah," Ron said under his breath, "they're looking. Let them look."

"I think they're just curious about what happened," Hermione said.

"Not the Slytherins," Harry said as he glanced over his shoulder at Slytherin table. "They know what happened." They would if their parents had told them.

"They can't all have family that are Death Eaters," Hermione said.

"No, but I'm sure the other Slytherins told them," Ron gruffed.

After the feast Harry and his friends rose to head towards Gryffindor and Harry noted that several people bumped into him.

"Watch it!" Ron shouted as one of the Ravenclaws bumped into he and Harry both, nearly sending Harry sprawling.

"Whoops," the Ravenclaw said with a dirty look, and turned and walked off with his friends.

"I don't want to do this this year," Hermione said.

Harry bit his lip as they walked. "You don't have to be friends with me if you don't want to," he said quietly, though he hoped she'd brush the statement off. She did.

"Nonsense. There's nothing wrong with you, it's all of them."

When they were back in the common room and Ron had gone off with a group of first year boys to show them to their dorm and where the bathrooms and hygiene supplies were, Hermione and Ginny sat down with Harry on a worn, comfy couch in the corner.

"If people are going to be like this all year, you're going to have to watch out Harry. Especially if Professor Umbridge has it in her mind to punish you for any little misdeed."

"You think she's really out to get me?"

"You heard her speech at the feast."

"I wasn't paying too much attention." He'd been busy trying to be invisible while he listened at the same time to the murmurs of students behind him at Hufflepuff about the ending of the Tri Wizard Tournament.

"She mentioned raising the standards of Hogwarts education to bring Hogwarts up in standing amongst other European schools, and at some point said doing what was necessary to reign in academically unhelpful behaviors."

"And she warned you to stay out of trouble before the feast even started," Ginny added.

"Wonderful," Harry said.

"Ron might try to goad you into getting back at people for being rude, but-"

"I'm not going to goad him into anything," Ron said as he came back from helping the first year boys and sat down on the couch on the other side of Hermione. "I'm not stupid. Last night dad mentioned something about the Ministry intervening at Hogwarts. He said the Minister was using the death of a student as an excuse to gain a foothold at Hogwarts."

"What do they want with a foothold?"

"The same thing as Voldemort," Hermione said gravely, and they all stared at her. "Control," she said. "The Minister wants control. Think about it. If he can gain control over Hogwarts he can say what we're taught. He spent the summer telling the Prophet that Voldemort is dead and hasn't returned, so that's probably where he'll start."

"He did?" Harry asked. He hadn't seen the papers. He always canceled his subscription to the Prophet in the summer since he always sent Hedwig home with Ron so there was no one to fetch his papers for him.

Hermione dug in her backpack for a moment and then brought out that morning's copy of the paper. Harry took it and let his eyes scan down the front page. There was nothing there, but on the second page there was a story with a statement from Cornelius Fudge. ‘I want to assure you that you are all safe. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was taken care of fourteen years ago. We have seen no signs of him, or activity by his followers since last year's Quidditch World Cup. Harry Potter is a very imaginative young boy, no doubt seeking to regain some of the former attention he received as a younger child.'

Harry felt sick. "It's been like this all summer?"

Hermione took the paper back and Ginny said, "They've been saying things like that about you and Professor Dumbledore all summer."

"How are they explaining Cedric's death then?"

"They said it was an unfortunate accident and that the tournament is dangerous and all contestants understood the risks involved before putting their name in the cup."

Harry looked around the common room at the fifteen or so older students who were still awake. Some of them looked away when they realized Harry had caught them staring. "That's why they're all staring at me."

"And shoving you," Ron said. "I ran into Seamus earlier this summer on Diagonalley. Some people think you got greedy during the last task and reckless and somehow caused Cedric's death. And when you said Voldemort was back, Seamus' mom said he couldn't come back to Hogwarts. I'm surprised he's here now. He must have convinced her you were lying."

Harry stood up and said gruffly, "I'm not lying." Then he felt bad at the look he received from his friends. He knew they didn't doubt him. "I'm going to bed," he said.

"I'm going too," Ron said as he stood up. They bade the girls goodnight and Ron followed Harry up the winding stairs.

When Harry pushed open the door to their dorm a minute later the other boys looked up at his entrance, but didn't say anything to him or Ron. Harry felt awkward and tense, like he'd done something wrong, even though he knew he hadn't.

He sat down on his bed and began pulling his shoes off. There was a shuffling of feet and Harry looked up a few moments later as Seamus came around in front of him and sat in the desk chair Harry shared with Ron.

"Me mum didn't want me to come back to school," Seamus said.

"Ron told me," Harry said, trying not to sound snarky because he was so on edge. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"What did you mean to happen?" Seamus asked.

Harry looked up into his eyes. "Nothing."

"I know what the papers said about you and about Cedric, but I want to hear it from you."

Harry took a deep breath and turned to look at Ron, who seemed uncertain about the atmosphere in the room. Dean and Neville were listening quietly somewhere behind them.

"When Cedric and I got to the end of the maze we decided to take the cup together. When we touched it, we realized it was a portkey. It took us to a graveyard somewhere and Voldemort was waiting. He stole my blood and used it in a potion to regain his strength. He killed Cedric. We fought and I was able to get away with Cedric's-" he paused and swallowed hard. He'd tried not to think about it all summer long... "-body," he finished.

Dean and Neville came around to stand by Seamus now. Neville leaned against the desk and Dean gave a scared look to the other boys in the room. "He's really back?" Dean asked.

"He's back," Harry said.

"And you want us to believe you?" Seamus asked quietly.

Ron took a protective step forward and said harshly, "We want you to be our friends. We're going to be running short on them this year."

The other boys all exchanged glances and then Seamus stood up from the chair. "Me mum don' know what she's talkin' about. Hogwarts is the safest place to be if Voldemort's back. That's what the Headmaster told her when she owled to say I wasn't coming back to school."

"You believe me?" Harry asked. His heart was racing and his hands felt sweaty. For a few moments, being surrounded by the other boys in his dorm made him remember being back at the orphanage and being surrounded by Kirk and his friends in the middle of the night.

"Of course we believe you," Neville said, standing to go back to his bed on the other side of the room. "And I've always been your friend Harry. My gran'd have my hide if she thought I'd abandoned a friend."

The boys dispersed and Harry gave Ron a look he hoped conveyed how thankful he was that Ron had stuck up for him. It was a look he found later on, that he'd be giving his friends a lot that year.

* * *

Harry was bruised. Again. The Slytherins were leaving him alone (in fact, they seemed scared, though Harry wasn't entirely sure if they were scared of him or of Voldemort being back). The older Ravenclaw boys however seemed to have it out for him. One of them had tied his shoes with magic and he'd gone sprawling in the hallway. Seamus and Ron had cursed at him, but the boy had only laughed when Professor Umbridge had come around the corner just in time to hear them. "My, what language," she said. "That will be two points each from Gryffindor." She stared at Harry lying there on the floor, books and parchment scattered around him, and then continued on her way.

Another boy, though Harry couldn't be sure if it was one from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, had tripped him on his way into the Great Hall, and someone had pushed him hard in the Greenhouses during Herbology.

"I'm about to curse somebody," Ron said before dinner on their second night back to school.

"It will be more trouble than it's worth," Hermione told him, though she didn't look happy after giving a look to Harry who sat down gingerly at Gryffindor table.

"Not if it stops them from doing this." He motioned to Harry and the newly forming bruise on his elbow. He'd fallen just before dinner when someone had shoved into him, and smacked his elbow on the floor.

"We should go to McGonagall," Hermione said.

"What's she going to do about it, make an announcement to the school to stop picking on Harry? It's not like it's Gryffindors doing it."

"He's right," Harry said. Telling his head of house wouldn't do anything. Something at the back of his mind nagged at him to be noticed but Harry tried to force it down. He knew what it was. It was the same thing he'd thought over and over for years. If he was being treated like this, he probably deserved it. They all thought he was responsible for Cedric's death, and the reality was, they were right. He could have rescued him if he'd been stronger or smarter, or if he would have just done better at the tournament he would have gotten to the cup before Cedric. Cedric would have never ended up in the graveyard at all if Harry had been better.

"Well Harry?"

Harry looked up from his plate. "What?" It was obvious that they'd asked him something, but he didn't know what.

"You should ask Professor Snape what to do," Hermione repeated. Harry frowned. Why would he do that?

"Don't give me that look," she said. "You spent the whole summer with him didn't you?"

"Just because he stayed with him doesn't mean Snape likes him any more than he did at the end of last year," Ron said. Harry wondered if she and Ron had already been arguing about this while Harry hadn't been paying attention, because they both looked irritated with each other.

"I'm not going to ask him," Harry said to end whatever further arguments might ensue on his behalf.

"Harry-"

"I didn't spend the entire summer with him," Harry interrupted Hermione. "I was with the Dursleys for most of it," he lied. He really didn't want to discuss where he'd been. His friends still didn't know any of the details of why he'd been with Snape, and unless Ron's dad had said something to Ron or his siblings, no one knew that Snape had gotten him out of the orphanage with the forged papers.

"What are you going to do then?" Hermione demanded.

"I'm not going to curse them and get in trouble," Harry said to reassure her.

She bit her lip like she wanted to say something else, but didn't, and they went back to their dinner.

* * *

Umbridge was daring Harry to say anything at all about Voldemort's return. She had told them all in the very first class that no one needed to actually practice defense, because there was no need to know it. "General knowledge of the subject will be more than sufficient to get you through your OWLS," she said with a smile, making eye contact with Harry directly. He held her gaze until she looked away, but didn't say anything at all. Hermione had chastised Ron again just that morning and reminded him that it wouldn't be worth it to fight with people. Harry wasn't sure if she was being extra cautious because she always was, or if it was because of the new Prefect badges she and Ron were wearing. Harry had never seen a Prefect lose their badge, but Hermione had hinted that it could happen.

"Questions?" Umbridge asked the class. Several Slytherins and Gryffindors looked over at Harry, but he'd already made a decision to keep his mouth closed. He felt bolstered by the fact that the other boys in his dorm already believed him and didn't believe the lies the newspapers were printing. The Slytherins across the aisle believed him too. They had to, because of who their parents were. Harry had a feeling that Umbridge believed him too, but was trying to quash everyone else's belief.

When class was over, Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the classroom in silence and didn't speak until they'd made their way out of the castle and down towards Care of Magical Creatures.

"I'm proud of you Harry," Hermione told him.

He gave her a sideways glance. What was there to be proud of? "Why?"

"She was trying to goad you into an argument. Everyone saw it. You didn't even react."

"I thought you were asleep for a minute," Ron said. "Did you see the Slytherins? Even they kept looking over to see what you'd say or do."

"They all believe me," Harry said. "What do I care if Umbridge wants to fight about it?"

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh. "That's why I'm proud of you. You could have lost a lot of points or gotten detention."

"We have to learn real defense this year," Ron said.

Neville, Dean, and Seamus came even with them. They seemed to have been listening. "Ron's right," Dean said. "I read the new defense book over the summer. There's not much of anything useful in it. We need practice."

Harry looked up when no one said anything a minute later. They were all looking at him as they neared Hagrid's cabin. "What?"

"You duelled him," Seamus said. "You've had a lot of practice."

"And you want me to give Umbridge pointers on how to teach us?"

Neville laughed. "That would be something wouldn't it? Maybe we can have a duelling club again, like in second year."

"We could ask Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "All student clubs have to have a teacher to sponsor the club and supervise it. I'll ask her after the Prefect's meeting tonight.

They spread out as they made Hagrid's cabin, but the moment Ron and Hermione got involved in a conversation about their new textbook, Draco sidled up next to Harry and said quietly, "You and I are going to duel again."

Harry frowned. "Why would I want to do that?" The two times he'd duelled Draco had both ended in disaster. In his first year he'd been caught after hours and given detention and in second year Draco had sent a snake at him and caused him to be an outcast for the year just because he'd told the snake to leave a student alone.

"If you're starting a dueling club, I'm coming."

"I'm not starting anything, and I don't care if you come." Though Harry thought he did care and didn't want Draco to learn any new spells or dueling moves he could use against Harry. Draco was sure to become a Death Eater with his father being Voldemort's right hand man.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Harry never found out what because Hagrid started class and told them to get into pairs. Harry ended up with Neville and they followed Hagrid into the forest to feed unicorns.

* * *

"I'm surprised by you Mr. Potter."

Harry looked up from where he'd found himself suddenly on the floor in the corridor outside the library. A Ravenclaw had pushed him down and then disappeared around a corner. Harry had mumbled under his breath about being rude, but had otherwise let him go before Umbridge had apparently come up behind him. He looked up at her.

"Maam?" he asked, picking up his bag which had fallen beside him and pushing himself up off the stone floor.

"From everything I've heard about you, and from your school records, I expected... something different."

He frowned, not entirely sure what she meant. She gave him a sweet smile, but then narrowed her eyes at him in thought. "That's the fourth time this week I've seen someone push you down, yet I never see you fight with them or argue, or any of the other things one would expect from a student who gets nearly 20 detentions a year."

Harry wanted to say he had it coming to him, but kept his mouth shut.

"In fact, last year you received four detentions alone for arguing in class, yet I rarely hear a peep from you in Defense." She seemed to be waiting for an explanation, but Harry wasn't going to give her one. Snape usually made it a point to give him detention at least once a week but for some reason had refrained in the two weeks since they'd been back to school. In fact, now that Harry thought about it, Snape's behavior seemed downright odd. He'd practically left him alone in Potions, and he'd given Harry an O on his summer paper.

"Do you know what I heard Mr. Potter?" Umbridge went on when Harry still hadn't responded. "I heard you were starting a dueling club. Why would you want to do such a silly thing?" she asked sweetly, as if a dueling club was an absurd notion. Hermione had gotten the go ahead from Professor McGonagall, who had volunteered to oversee the club once a week on Sunday evenings. They hadn't had their first meeting yet, but Hermione had a list of spells she wanted new club members to learn.

"I didn't start it," Harry said. "Hermione did."

"I wonder why she would want to be part of a dueling club."

"We had one in second year," Harry said.

"Yes, I recall reading about that in the school records. It was to practice self-defense because of attacks happening in the school. Are you and your friends expecting to be attacked?"

Harry thought it seemed like a silly question considering she'd just watched him be pushed down yet again and done nothing about it. He looked in the direction the Ravenclaw had walked off in, but turned back when he heard Umbridge clear her throat. "Duelling is not allowed in the corridors Mr. Potter," she reminded him. "I wonder, would you mind if I took a look in your bag? I'm checking for contraband."

Harry handed her his bag. There was nothing in there but his notes and textbooks from earlier that day. He'd been in the library studying with Hermione, but hadn't checked anything out. She opened it and looked through it before handing it back to him. She looked like she wanted to question him more, and actually seemed irritated that he didn't have any ‘contraband' with him. Without a word she walked away and left him in the empty corridor. Harry brushed it off as strange and didn't think about it again until much later when he would have cause to reflect on her odd behavior.

"Ah, Mr. Jones," came Dumbledore's voice from somewhere above Harry. Harry was rather tired of ending up on the floor. Granted he wasn't being outright beat up or pulled out from under a bed in the dead of night to face a harsh punishment, but constantly being pushed into walls and thrown on the ground was starting to take its toll. "Perhaps you should give Mr. Potter an apology for accidentally knocking him to the ground."

Harry looked up and wondered if Dumbledore had gone barmy or had just not seen Jeremy Jones use both hands to push him down. Upon closer inspection of his face however, Harry was pleased to note that while the man smiled, his face wasn't relaxed. He definitely wasn't happy.

"I'm sorry," Jeremy said. He seemed to sense the Headmaster's displeasure as well and moved to hold his hand out for Harry to take. Harry did take it and let himself be pulled up by the sixth year. Jeremy gave a sorry look towards the Headmaster, and then an irritated look at Harry, and went on his way.

Dumbledore turned to Harry, blue eyes taking in the bruises on Harry's arms and then meeting Harry's green eyes. "Perhaps some tea dear boy?" Dumbledore asked. "That is unless you are on your way to Quidditch or some other urgent engagement."

"I'm not supposed to be anywhere right now," Harry said. Harry could see that Dumbledore had relaxed and his smile seemed genuine once again. He beckoned for Harry to walk with him, and Harry was lead to a room near the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"My second office," Dumbledore said, and Harry looked around once he was inside. There was a large wooden table with seating for at least a dozen people, but no desk, or bookshelves or knick knacks like in the man's ‘first' office. "A wonderful place to meet when there are too many people to fit in my office," Dumbledore said with a smile, motioning Harry to a chair near the end of the table. He called for a house elf and asked for tea service and then sat across from Harry.

"How have you been getting along?" Dumbledore asked. "I hope classes are going well?"

"Yes sir," Harry said. He wanted to mention getting an O on one of his Potion's papers but didn't.

"I hear the first meeting of the dueling club went exceptionally well."

"Hermione taught a bunch of first and second years a fourth year shield."

"Wonderful," he said. The elf came back with tea and set it in front of the Headmaster, and then left again. The Headmaster pushed a cup towards Harry as well as a tray of chocolate and strawberry biscuits. Harry welcomed the warmth of the tea. This was better than lying in the corridor and wondering how many more days until the others got tired of pushing him around.

"And how was your summer?"

Harry looked into his cup of tea, took a drink, and shrugged. The man had to know how his summer had gone. He knew Harry had spent the end of the summer with Snape, and with how many times Mrs. Weasley had owled him about being in danger, Harry wondered if Dumbledore had known about him living on the streets as well. Had he been the one to tell Snape to leave food out for him on the rubbish bins?

"Did you enjoy spending time with Professor Snape? I understand he adopted you. It must be nice to finally have a father."

Harry pushed his tea away from himself and stared into the dark liquid as the cogs began turning in his mind. Dumbledore sounded like Umbridge... like he was digging for information. Harry wanted to ask him questions about how much he knew, but wasn't sure if he'd be allowed.

"Professor Snape isn't my father. He didn't adopt me."

"Oh? I was under the impression that he did."

"No," Harry said quietly. "He got me out of the orphanage but that's it. He let me stay at his house and took me to King's Cross."

"Has Professor Snape not been there for you since your return to school?"

Harry shrugged again. "I haven't really seen much of him except in class."

Dumbledore pushed the tray of biscuits closer to Harry. "Perhaps I was mistaken then. I haven't seen your name on his detention roster yet this year."

Harry thought ‘yet' was the key word. "I guess I haven't been any trouble." Well, he'd been trying not to cause trouble anyway. Ron had finally gotten fed up yesterday and pinned a fifth year against the wall after he'd caused Harry to drop a stack of books he'd been carrying from the library for Hermione.

"You are never any trouble Harry." Harry met the man's eyes but didn't respond other than to finish his cup of tea.

"Thank you for the tea sir." Harry stood up and picked up his bag.

"Harry, I'm aware that some of the Ravenclaw students have not been treating you with respect over the last few weeks."

Harry looked up at him. If the Headmaster could see the bruises up and down Harry's torso he would have thought it was a lot worse than just a lack of respect.

"While I do not condone their behavior, I wanted to shed a little light on the possible cause of it."

"Sir?"

"Jeremy Jones and Rowan Cook are two of Cedric's cousins. Despite that Cedric's father accepts his son's death as an act committed by Lord Voldemort, that has been harder for Mr. Jones and Mr. Cook to accept."

"They think I'm responsible," Harry said. It wasn't a question.

"You and I however know the truth, as does Amos Diggory, and you would do well to remember it."

"Yes sir."

Dumbledore offered Harry another biscuit and when he declined, bade him good evening. Harry left the meeting room feeling conflicted. What was the truth? Cedric's dad may have accepted something as truth, but that didn't mean it was true. Harry felt like he was responsible for Cedric's death. Voldemort may have cast the spell, but Cedric being there in the graveyard in the first place was Harry's fault. Jeremy Jones and Rowan Cook knew it, and so did their friends, which was why they were punishing Harry. As he made his way back to his dorm, Harry wondered what Kirk and Jason had been punishing him for that summer. Maybe it was just for existing.

* * *

Severus watched as Harry picked himself up from the floor. Why wouldn't he defend himself? Minerva and other staff had brought Harry up in the last three staff meetings. Severus had it on good authority that Filius had spoken to all of the students in his house that had been bullying the Gryffindor, but the abuse continued and Harry seemed content to take it. He looked thoroughly miserable, but he never told them to leave him alone, never raised his wand to duel them, and he never told a Professor about the problem. Severus was thoroughly frustrated with his charge by the end of the third week of school.

Harry startled when Severus made a noise behind him in the empty Entrance Hall as he stood up to brush himself off. "Did I bump into you sir?" Harry asked, unsure why Snape was so close.

"You did not."

"Oh," Harry said, looking relieved.

"You are bleeding."

Harry looked at the palm of his hand but didn't say anything. It was just a scrape.

"Come with me."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Have you done something to warrant that question?"

"No."

Snape gave him a perturbed look as he led him down the stairs and into the dungeons. Harry was surprised when they passed his office and went around a corner to another door. Snape gave a password that he made no attempt to hide from Harry and then led him inside.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, though he didn't need to. He'd obviously been led to the man's quarters, but he wasn't sure why.

"My quarters. Sit on the couch." He disappeared down a hall and came back a minute later with a box of jars. "This is why I made more potions before we left," he said. "Sit," he told Harry again, irritated that he hadn't sat down yet. Harry sat on the couch and Snape sat on the coffee table facing him.

"Give me your hand." Harry did as he was told and Snape used an antiseptic potion on the scrape followed by a general healing salve. He looked at Harry expectantly when he was done but Harry frowned, not sure what he was waiting for.

"What other injuries do you have?"

Harry rolled the arms of his robes up and Snape glared at him. "These are obviously old. Why have you not gone to the Hospital Wing?"

Harry looked at the bruises. They had piled up one over the other until his arms looked a mixture of sickly yellow and brown.

"They're just bruises."

"Bruises that would not continue to pile up if you had them seen to and if you would put an end to the bullying."

"I'm not being bullied," Harry said, irritated.

"We have all seen you be pushed down repeatedly. That is bullying."

"Punishment," Harry mumbled.

"They have been punished," Snape said, misunderstanding what Harry had meant. "Jeremy Jones has served three detentions with Mr. Filch over his treatment of you." Harry didn't correct him.

"I'd get in trouble for dueling in the halls."

Severus frowned at him. "Normally I would not condone such a thing, but I would rather see you get detention or have to explain your actions to a Professor than continue to allow yourself to be injured day after day." Ron certainly seemed to agree with him. He was up to two detentions now and a loss of 30 house points for retaliating on Harry's behalf. Ron thought the only reason he hadn't lost his Prefect's badge up to this point (and Hermione agreed) was that he'd been doing it all in response to bullying.

Severus slathered a heavy coat of bruise balm on Harry's arms and then his chest, back, and knees, and then went to put his supplies away while Harry sat back on the couch. The Headmaster had just expressed his concern over Harry's behavior two nights ago. He'd gone as far as to suggest that Harry was depressed, but Severus didn't know how to handle that. Generally he sent depressed students to speak to Madam Pomfrey, especially if it was because of a situation not under his control. Harry was his charge though, which Dumbledore hadn't failed to remind him.

He sighed as he put the salves and balms back in the cabinet in the bathroom. He'd never even had to tell Dumbledore that he'd taken custody of the boy. He already knew. Severus had expected questions and even to face the man's anger, but there had only been sadness in the man's eyes. Minerva knew as well because she was now owling any incidents involving Harry directly to him instead of to the Headmaster. In fact, the only time Albus had spoken to him at all about the change in custody had been the other night when he was expressing concern over Harry's emotional well-being.

Harry was pulling his robe back on when Severus came back into the living room.

"I want to know why."

Harry looked up at him and frowned. "Why what?"

"Why do you not defend yourself or at the very least tell someone that there is a problem?"

Harry stood up to leave and looked as though he wasn't going to answer, so Severus stepped in front of him. "Who am I gonna tell?" Harry asked. "It happens all day long. Unless a Professor sees it happening there's nothing to do about it."

"You could tell me."

"Why?"

Snape heaved a sigh. "Whether you like it or not, I am now your guardian. You are my ward. As I have told you before, I expect you to come to me when you are having a problem."

Harry just stared blankly at him.

"Did you understand what I said?"

"Yes."

"Repeat it to me."

Harry frowned and picked up his bag. "Sir, it's not nice to lie. Nobody wants me as their ward. Nobody ever has and nobody ever will." Harry moved around him, and Severus was busy mulling over what Harry had said, so he let him. By the time everything had clicked into place in his mind, Harry had left.

Was that why Harry didn't believe he'd adopted him? Because the Dursleys hadn't wanted him so no one else would either? Severus didn't know if he ‘wanted' Harry or not. He certainly hadn't planned on taking him, and the thought never would have crossed his mind if Harry hadn't shouted at him over the rubbish bins. Regardless, Harry was now his legally adopted son and it was up to him to convince him of that, if for no other reason than to make sure Harry knew he had someone to come to when in trouble. That was something Harry had been sorely lacking on and desperately needed, even if he wouldn't admit it.

* * *

"How much longer are you going to let Granger lead the dueling club?" Draco asked Harry as they stood in line waiting to be let into the Potions room Monday morning. Hermione had led the club's second meeting Sunday evening, and while Harry had attended (as had Umbridge), he hadn't participated at all and instead chose to do his homework at one of the tables in the Great Hall and watch as Hermione taught younger students spells the older students all knew. This was the third time Draco had come to pester him about the club.

"Why do you care?" Harry asked. Draco had attended Sunday's meeting as well and seemed bored.

"Don't play stupid Potter," Draco snapped. Then his voice regained it's cool composure and he said, "Granger is focused on teaching the younger kids spells we already know. I want to learn real defense. The kind I would need in a battle."

Harry frowned at him darkly and Draco gave him just as serious a look in return.

"Anything I teach you you can use against me."

"I can beat you in a duel right now Potter," he said with a sneer. "I'm not looking for a way to beat you."

Ron came up behind them then to stand in line and said, "We're not doing this again are we? I'd rather not lose my Prefect badge for being Harry's second in a midnight duel."

"We wouldn't have to have a duel at midnight if Potter would lead the defense club," Draco pointed out. "Then I could beat him in front of a crowd." He seemed to have added the last bit as a day dreamish afterthought, not as a reason for wanting Harry to take on the club.

"I hate to agree with Malfoy," Ron said, "but it would be nice if you lead it. Hermione's doing good but I don't think that's what everyone thought the club would be like when they signed up."

Harry frowned just as Snape opened the classroom door from the inside and let them in. He didn't look pleased when he looked at Harry and Harry wondered what he had done wrong as he went in to take his seat. He was dismayed to find that Draco sat next to him, taking Hermione's normal seat.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, leaning around from Harry's other side.

"Pestering him until he takes Granger's spot."

Ron looked irritated but didn't say anything else to Draco for the remainder of the class. Hermione also seemed perturbed when she came in and found Draco in her seat, but adjusted quickly and went to sit with Neville to help him with his potion instead, which resulted in Neville getting a passing grade for once, and in Draco working with Harry and Ron instead of throwing rogue ingredients towards their cauldron like he had done so many times in the past.

Everyone noticed Draco's choice in seating and even Snape came up to their bench in the middle of their brewing. "An interesting choice in seating Mr. Malfoy."

Before Draco could say anything Harry muttered, "We're having a playdate," without looking up from the ingredients he was chopping.

The students around them held their breath, waiting for Snape to explode, but he didn't. Instead he moved on to the next workbench without a word, leaving everyone, including Draco, wondering if he was having an off day.

"A playdate Potter? Are you five?" Draco asked as they packed their bags after class.

"If you don't like it then stop pestering me."

"Oh no, it's fine. We'll have another playdate in Defense."

Harry and Ron both glared after Draco as he hurried out of the room on his way to whatever class he had next.

"Mental that one," Ron said, and Harry nodded. "Make sure to sit right next to us in Defense," Ron told Hermione.

"Why did he sit with you today anyway?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron shared a look, both wondering if they should tell her what Draco had said.

"He's decided to annoy Harry until he agrees to start leading the Defense club."

"I really wish you would Harry. Everyone knows you're top of the class in Defense. I don't mind working with the younger students but someone needs to teach us and we need someone who has experience."

"What experience?" Harry demanded as they walked towards Charms. "I've never won anything. I've never even beat Draco in a duel."

"You made it through the tournament," Ron pointed out. "You've been up against Dragons, trolls, and You-Know-Who."

"I nearly got burned to death by the dragon, you two also fought the troll and the only reason I escaped You-Know-Who was because of my parents, all three times." He was suddenly feeling angry and he didn't know why. He wished he could figure it out because he didn't want to be angry with his friends.

"But all of that is more experience than we have," Hermione said. "Even Professor McGonagall was surprised I was the one who was going to lead the club. You could teach us how to cast a patronus, and how to know when the best time to throw a shield up is."

"Do you really think Umbridge is going to let me run the club?" Harry asked. He'd already told them about his many encounters with her. She had continued to stop him periodically and check him for ‘contraband' even though he'd never seen her check other students. He'd also explained her tone when she was interrogating him about the duelling club.

"He has a point," Ron said.

"She's not the head of the club," Hermione said in a huff, "Professor McGonagall is. She's the Headmistress and what she says goes. What can Professor Umbridge do?" Hermione and Ron both turned to look at Harry and he shrugged.

"Ok," he said. "One lesson. We can do patronuses maybe." Though secretly Harry was wondering if he could conjure a happy enough memory to cast a patronus. He would have to practice in private before he tried to teach anybody else.

"I'll let Professor McGonagall know," Hermione said happily and bounded away.

"It'll be good mate," Ron said. "We've been dying to learn something new."

"We can always practice on our own," Harry said. "There's Defense books in the library."

"We should," Ron said. "But you know others will want in on it." Harry shrugged and winced at the pain in his shoulder. He'd been shoved into a wall again earlier that day.

"How's the shoulder?" Ron asked.

"Fine."

"I wish those gits would take the hint and leave you alone," Ron gruffed. "They've had a bunch of detentions already."

"They're Cedric's cousins," Harry said, and Ron paused.

"I didn't know that."

"Dumbledore told me."

"Still doesn't mean they have to beat you to a pulp all week long. You didn't do anything." Later when Harry was lying in bed and the other boys were down in the common room finishing up homework and playing games, Harry thought to himself that Ron was wrong. He deserved whatever Cedric's cousins dished out. Maybe they did need to beat him to a pulp to feel satisfied that Harry had been punished enough. Harry would rather they give him one good beating that he could heal from instead of this constant torrent of punishment every day. Harry stayed in the dorm and common room over the weekend finishing up homework and failing at casting a patronus, but had made up his mind by Monday morning that he was done with his daily thrashings.

Harry got his chance to talk to Jeremy Jones in the hallway Tuesday just before lunch. Ron and Hermione had gone to talk to McGonagall about Harry teaching one of the upcoming Defense club meetings, and seeing Harry alone Jeremy had slammed Harry hard into the wall. Harry could feel his skin getting scraped through his shirt and robe. Then he had gone on his way, but Harry had shouted out to him.

"Wait!"

Jeremy turned, his face angry, and looking to be sure there was no one else in the corridor to hear, Harry walked over to him.

"You're doing this because you think it's my fault Cedric died," Harry said. He wanted to confirm what Dumbledore thought about the situation.

"You are responsible," Jeremy said.

"You think I should be punished," Harry said.

Jeremy scoffed. "What do you want Potter?"

"I'm gonna give you a chance to finish this, to carry out whatever punishment you think I deserve for Cedric's death, but then I want this to be done. No more of this in the halls between classes."

"Yeah right," Jeremy scoffed. "You're just gonna let us beat you up?"

"You and Rowan and no one else," Harry said. "After dinner, you pick the place, I don't care."

"You're serious." Harry didn't answer and just stared at him. "Fine then, the unused corridor at the end of the Hufflepuff corridor. Way down past the kitchens and past Sprout's quarters and the Quidditch supply room."

"And after that, no more," Harry said, face set in hard lines.

Jeremy met his eyes and gave a nod. "No more."

He brushed past Harry towards lunch, probably to find Rowan to tell him about his strange encounter with Harry Potter.

At lunch Harry sat down between Ron and Ginny and piled his plate with salad. "What kept you?" Ron asked.

"I was talking to someone in the hall," Harry said. "I might be late to dinner. I'm gonna be practicing for Thursday's Defense Club."

"Need help?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry said. "I want to practice alone." Ron knew Harry had been practicing off and on all weekend and had gone to the dorm by himself and locked the door each time.

Harry was nervous as they went through their afternoon classes and dinner approached. He split off from Ron and Hermione right after Charms and headed towards the dorm while they went to the Great Hall for dinner, but didn't go all the way to Gryffindor. After a few minutes he headed down through the castle and past the Great Hall to the Hufflepuff corridor.

Harry hadn't been down the Hufflepuff corridor quite as far as he'd been told to go for this ‘meeting'. He'd been down to the Quidditch supply a few times but never beyond that. He passed the Quidditch supply room and then several other doors that he had no idea what was behind and finally came to the end of the corridor, where he had no choice but to turn left and go down another corridor. It was only a minute before this corridor dead ended at another door which was closed and locked. Here he found Jeremy and Rowan.

"Are we really gonna do this Potter?" Rowan asked. Clearly he was unsure if his cousin was making things up or not.

"I'm here," Harry said blandly.

"No wands," Jeremy said, and Harry wasn't sure if it was because they wanted to do as much physical harm was possible to Harry with their fists or if it was because they were scared if they were using wands that Harry might fight back and best them.

Harry set his bag down and said, "My wand is in the bag."

Jeremy and Rowan seemed nervous and cautious as they advanced on Harry, but Harry kept his hands at his sides. Finally one of them knocked him down and Harry's hands flew up to protect his face and head as the two punched him, taking their anger and upset out on him over their cousin's death. Harry's hands helped little to keep their fists from bruising his face. Harry had thought the beating would last longer because that was what he was used to, but it was over quickly. As he lay there dazed and in pain, face bleeding from his lip and over his eye, Harry noted that Jeremy and Rowan looked scared as they stared down at the damage they had done, breath heaving from the effort of causing so much damage.

Harry struggled to sit up and was surprised when Rowan knelt and pulled him up and leaned him against the corridor wall. Maybe the beating wasn't over after all, Harry thought, but after a moment it seemed that it was.

"Do you know what really happened at the end of the tournament?" Harry asked, breathing ragged. He wondered if they'd broken a rib because his chest hurt like hell. "Or did you just believe the papers?"

"Uncle Amos said You-Know-Who-Did-It," Jeremy said.

"He did," Harry said.

"But you were there. You're The Boy Who Lived. You could have stopped him if you wanted to." Some of the fear in Jeremy's voice had disappeared and he seemed angry again, fist clenched at his side.

Harry didn't disagree with him though. He nodded and looked down at his hands, which had blood smeared across his knuckles. "If I was better at the tournament... faster, I could have gotten to the cup before him. Then it would have only been me there with Voldemort. I wasn't fast enough though."

Harry missed the uneasy glance between the other two boys as his voice caught, and he said quietly, "The curse came out of his wand so fast. I didn't even know what was happening. There was green light, and Cedric hit the ground, and I didn't realize what was going on until I realized I was staring into Cedric's eyes, but he wasn't really seeing me." Harry's voice was barely more than a whisper by the end. He looked up at Cedric's cousins and said, "I know I'm responsible. You don't have to remind me anymore. I'm always going to remember." He knew his eyes were wet but he didn't care.

After a few moments Harry heard one of them murmur, "C'mon," and then he felt them walk past him and out of the corridor. Harry lifted his arm and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Blood and tears mingled and Harry was glad his sleeve was black so it wouldn't stain as badly. It was some time before Harry decided to try to get up and drag himself out of the forgotten corridor. He'd have to walk out and past Cedric's statue to get back to the rest of the castle. Maybe now he could look at it. He hadn't been able to look when he'd passed on his way in or at the start of the year when he'd gone with Ginny to leave flowers at the base of it.

"Gawd Potter, what the hell?"

Harry stopped struggling to stand up and fell back to the floor. Draco was there staring down at him looking both shocked and disgusted.

"What're you-" Harry started but Draco cut him off.

"I was looking for you. I heard you're finally going to teach at the Defense Club. Weasley didn't know where you were and then I saw those two goons come out of Hufflepuff corridor with their hands covered in blood and looking pale like they'd just killed someone. I came down here to see what was left of you."

"This is it," Harry said, feeling sarcastic.

"They drag you down here?"

"I came to meet them."

"You are so dumb Potter. Why would you go looking for them when you know they want to throttle you?"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked. "It's over now. Go back to Slytherin or something."

"What, and leave you here? I'd lose my Prefect badge." He pulled Harry up and helped support him down the corridor.

"I swear Potter, if you say I did this to you I'll get creative in the way I'll kill you."

"Why would I blame it on you?" Harry asked.

"You're dumb," Draco said, but he wasn't done there. "You're a Gryffindor, we aren't friends, you-" but Harry cut him off this time.

"Whose fault is that that we aren't friends?" Harry asked. "You were a jerk to the one friend I had from the start and after that you called Hermione a bunch of names. Then after that you called me scarhead for an entire year. You got Hagrid in trouble and you tried to sabotage my potion in class more times than I can remember."

Draco it seemed didn't have anything to say to that and kept his mouth closed, so after a few more moments as they neared the entrance to the Kitchens Harry said, "I've never tried to get you in trouble. Not once. I'm not gonna start now."

"Whatever," Draco grumbled as he continued to half drag Harry down the corridor. As they passed the statue of Cedric, Harry looked up at the statue's face, but only briefly before his eyes flickered down again.

It seemed dinner was over by the time Draco got Harry out of the Hufflepuff corridor and into the Entrance Hall. There were still a few people lingering however, and one of them was Snape, who strode over to them as soon as they emerged and he caught sight of Harry's face.

"There had better be a good explanation for this," he said angrily.

"Two of them," Draco said.

Snape motioned for Draco to help him get Harry to the Dungeons and then helped support Harry past the few younger students in the Entrance Hall and down the Dungeon steps.

"If you two have been fighting," Snape breathed as they reached the bottom and turned towards Snape's office.

"It was Jones and Cook," Draco said. "You know I wouldn't brawl like this. What am I, a Muggle?"

Snape looked to Harry who gave him a nod. "Draco just found me and helped me, that's all." And he probably expects an award for it Harry thought to himself.

"This will be all Draco. I will handle the situation from here. Return to your dorm and shower and change. Speak of this to no one."

Draco let Snape take the rest of Harry's weight, gave Harry's bruised and bloody face one last look and then turned and went down a different corridor. Harry and Snape didn't speak again until Snape had him in his quarters. "Draco did not do this?" he asked.

"No, it was Cedric's cousins."

Snape asked if Harry had fought back, like he always did, but he already knew the answer. Harry looked away as Snape deposited him onto the couch. Harry winced but tried to act like he hadn't.

"You have broken bones?" Snape asked, sizing him up.

"Maybe."

"I will call for Poppy."

"WAIT!"

Snape turned back to Harry, surprised by his outburst.

"You can't," Harry said. "No one can know."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Jones and Cook will be lucky if they don't get expelled."

"You can't tell anyone."

Snape came back to Harry and sat on the coffee table facing him as he had done once before when healing him. He looked him in the eye and Harry didn't break eye contact to look away.

"This has got to stop Harry," he seemed frustrated though Harry wasn't sure if it was with Harry, the situation, or himself. "You have to start defending yourself."

Harry was quiet, wondering how to explain to Snape why he couldn't tell and how to convince him. "This wasn't an attack," Harry said, "it was punishment. For Cedric."

"Explain," Severus said seriously.

"I killed Cedric. They know it and I know it. They're upset and angry and they wanted to punish me."

Suddenly Harry's earlier statement about ‘punishment' when this had happened before made sense.

"And you believe you deserve this ‘punishment'?" Severus asked. Harry couldn't figure out what it was he was hearing in the man's voice. It was low and serious, but not angry.

"I killed him," Harry said. "Haven't you ever been so upset you didn't know what to do with yourself?" Severus didn't answer but he knew what Harry was talking about. "That's why they did this. I think they thought it would make them feel better. I saw the look on their faces though, when this was done. They looked hurt, and unhappy, and sad. If you tell the Headmaster what happened, they'll get expelled. I don't want that."

"You allowed this to happen because you believe you deserve to be punished," Severus said. It wasn't a question.

"I talked to them. We agreed, after this it doesn't happen again. No more being pushed around in the halls, this is it."

"This was something you set up, together?"

"A one time thing, to finish it." Harry was desperate for him to understand, for him not to pursue this with the Headmaster, but he wasn't sure he did understand.

Harry expected the man to continue asking questions about the incident or about Rowan and Jeremy, but he didn't. Instead he got up and retrieved several potions and balms and came back and started healing Harry's visible injuries.

"You are not responsible for Cedric's death," he said quietly as he worked, rubbing bruise balm into Harry's arm.

"How can you say that?" Harry asked. It was clear to everyone that he was.

"You were a fourth year. You weren't even supposed to be in the tournament. Crouch Jr. engineered the entire thing from the beginning to get you into that graveyard. There was little you could do to stop that. It was an accident that Cedric ended up in the graveyard with you."

"If I would have learned better... if I would have been faster I could have gotten to the cup before him. Then it would have just been me. And when we were there, I could have done something to stop them from killing him. It all happened so fast though. I didn't even know what was going on until Cedric was dead."

"He was a seventh year and had three more years of education under his belt than you did, not to mention private tutoring in the summers and on holidays. If he could not defend himself, you could not have been expected to defend him as a fourth year."

"That doesn't make any difference," Harry said. "I could have done something to stop this. Anything." Harry's voice cracked and Snape stopped putting the salve on for a moment to look at him.

"This is not your fault. No one else has told you this?"

"Cedric's father," Harry said. In the Hospital Wing he'd told him he didn't blame him, but Harry was already blaming himself at that point.

"At the orphanage, you didn't fight back. Did you believe you deserved punishment for something then as well?"

"No," Harry said. "The harder you fight back the more you get thrashed." Snape was just staring at him though like he hadn't heard what Harry had said or didn't understand. "Where was I supposed to go if it got worse?" Harry asked him. "I had nowhere else. If I fought back it would have gotten worse every day. Then what? They would have killed me. I just would have disappeared and not turned up at school and no one would know."

Apparently it was something Harry had thought through or had a lot of time to think about, and not just at the orphanage. It was a behavior and thought process ingrained in him from his time with his relatives.

"You come here," Severus said. "To me."

"Yeah but-"

Severus gave him a look that quieted him. "To me," Severus reiterated. "You protect yourself, and you come here if things get worse. And if you can't protect yourself, you come here, to me."

Harry's eyes had glazed over though. Severus got up and sat next to Harry on the couch. "You are mine to protect," Severus said next to him. "From yourself, from others, it does not matter."

"Who protected Cedric?" Harry said. "Not me." He choked and was surprised to find that Severus had put his arm around him then and pulled him in to lean on him. His arms hurt, and his face hurt, his chest and body hurt, and his heart hurt, but for the moment Harry felt like he wasn't feeling it all alone. Salty tears rolled down his face, and Harry choked again but other than that didn't make a sound. He just sat with Severus, who took some of Harry's feelings for him, if even only for a little while.

Since it was only Wednesday and Severus didn't want Harry to have to spend the next two days of classes as well as the weekend in bed recovering from the broken rib via potions, he took Harry up to see Madam Pomfrey around curfew when the halls were mostly clear of students and had her heal his broken rib, which only took a few moments.

"I swear I'm going to give those two boys a piece of my mind!" she said crossly as she examined Harry's swollen face and the cut above his eye, which were already on the mend from the salves and potions Severus had used.

Before Harry could open his mouth to ask her not to, Severus spoke for him. "It is being taken care of," he said.

"I should hope so," she told him.

She let Harry go and Severus walked him back towards Gryffindor tower and bade him goodnight. Inside Harry ignored the looks other people were giving his split lip and black eye and the cut over his face and went to sit with Ron and Hermione at a table against the back wall by the stairs to the boys dorms.

"What? They get you again?" Ron asked.

Harry waved him away. "It's over now."

"Did they get expelled?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry said tiredly. "It doesn't matter. It's all done and over with."

Hermione reached out to touch Harry's face and turn his cut towards the light so she could see. "I have notes if you want to look at them for the Charms and Transfiguration homework," Hermione said.

Harry gave her a thankful look and accepted the notes. He pushed his seat back to stand and go up to the dorms to do his homework, but Hermione asked, "Are you ready for tomorrow's Defense Club?"

"Yes," Harry lied, and went up to his room. He sat with the notes for a few minutes but couldn't concentrate on homework when the upcoming Defense Club was encroaching on his thoughts. The entire evening was weighing on his mind. He wasn't certain how he felt about what had happened with Jeremy and Rowan. The punishment they'd meted out to Harry obviously hadn't satisfied them. Harry felt like he'd been punished enough though. And then Snape had let Harry just sit there and cry next to him. No one had done that before, not even his friends. Snape hadn't chastised him or told him off. He hadn't put him down or tried to give him a calming draught. He'd just let him be and told him to come to him if he wasn't going to defend himself, or couldn't. Did that mean Snape would defend him?

Harry took his wand out and latched onto that thought; the thought that he was welcome to just sit and be wherever Snape was and have him share in whatever he was going through. Harry didn't know if it was a happy thought, but it was a new sort of feeling for him and it was strong. "Expecto Patronum!" he said loudly, and a stag burst out of his wand, if even only for a moment. It was corporeal and had hung around long enough to be seen. That was enough for the Defense Club, Harry thought with relief. He pushed his notes away from himself and went to bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. Later he would wonder if Snape had dosed him with a dreamless sleep potion when he'd been healing him, but Harry never asked, and Severus never told.

* * *

Surprised shouts met Harry's stag Patronus the next evening in the Great Hall. "Whoa Harry! I didn't know you could do that!" a boy from Ravenclaw shouted. Harry didn't know him well but knew he was on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. No one learned how to cast a Patronus by the end of the session, but everyone had tried and several of the older students had gotten wisps to come out of their wands, which was something.

"That was very good Harry," McGonagall told him at the end of the lesson. "We'll devote time at the next few meetings to this and see who we can get to come along."

Hermione agreed with McGonagall that Harry had done a good job, and Draco didn't seem like he wanted to complain so Harry figured he must have done a good job. The only person that didn't seem happy was Umbridge, who had again come to watch their meeting and sat at the back. Ron told Harry later that she had scowled through the entire session.

"She could teach us herself," Harry said.

"She won't." Ron sat and flipped through several pages of his Potions text looking for something and then said, "Harry, how did you get an O on your last couple Potions papers?"

"There's a secret to getting O's," Harry told him. Hermione looked up, wondering what Harry had to say about it, and when Harry saw he had the attention of both of his friends he said, "Professor Snape only gives O's for papers that relate what we're learning now to other things we've learned or researched."

"What's that even mean?" Ron asked, and Hermione pulled out her Potion's essay from the week before and showed him.

"Professor McGonagall does the same," Hermione said. "It's easy to relate Transfiguration topics to Runes, Arithmancy and Astronomy."

"And in Charms?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. The only place he'd tried this was in Potions and it was a lot of extra work.

"Charms too," Hermione said. "Professor Flitwick seems to like it when we relate Charms theory to things it can be used for and how Charms can interact with things like Transfiguration and Potions for interesting effects."

"That's too much work," Ron grumbled.

"We only do 12 papers a term for each class though," Hermione said, "and tests count for less than half of the grade. If you could do well on the tests and then get O's on just half of your papers and you settle for Exceeds Expectations on the rest that would get you an O for the class. And if you failed a test you could make up for it easily with an O paper."

Ron looked like he was trying to figure out the math in his head as Harry went back to his research for his current Potions paper. This would be his fourth for Snape this term and he fancied getting another O. Since Harry had been putting more effort into his Potions papers he had found brewing easier during class and wasn't confused as often about which ingredients to use and in which order to add them. Whether Snape was pleased or not with his new grades Harry wasn't sure, but he was certainly pleased with himself.

* * *

Harry wished he would have just stayed in the tower Friday night instead of going out after dinner by himself to look for a book in the library. He'd decided to try his luck at getting an O on his Transfiguration paper Monday and Hermione had told him about a book that could help him with that. Now as Harry was staring at Umbridge in the Library corridor, mouth slack, he wondered if the O would have been worth the trouble he was in now.

"Did you hear me Mr. Potter?" Umbridge demanded.

Harry closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. She'd just accused him of fighting on Wednesday night. He hadn't been fighting, he'd been getting beaten up. He could tell her that, but then Rowan and Jeremy would be in trouble.

"I saw the bruises you had Thursday morning Potter and I've been doing some detective work since then. It's apparent to me now that you started a fight with a respectable 6th year Ravenclaw that night during dinner and then duelled him, which is against school rules."

"But Professor, I wasn't duelling. I don't even know where we could duel."

"Out on the grounds perhaps?"

"I wasn't out on the grounds."

"Where were you during dinner Wednesday night then Mr. Potter? You were nowhere to be found."

"I was with Professor Snape," Harry lied.

"Doing detention? I didn't see a detention on your record for the evening."

"I wasn't in detention, I was with him in the dungeons."

She laughed at him then and said, "That's quite enough Mr. Potter. Come with me. You have detention until curfew."

"Yes maam." Harry though it was ironic that the other boys had been the ones beating him up, but he was being punished for it. That was the choice he'd made though, so he'd have to deal with the consequences himself. The only issue was that this wasn't to be a normal detention and he wasn't sure how to deal with it himself.

"Maam?" Harry asked, confused. She'd given him a quill and told him to do lines, (‘I must not tell lies,') but the words had appeared on his hand and the quill and paper were now marked on with his own blood.

"Do you have something to say Mr. Potter?"

"I thought-"

"Yes?"

"Is this allowed?"

"Giving detention to a student who has broken school rules? I assure you, I am well within my rights to do whatever I think is necessary to stop your rule breaking."

"But I was with Professor Snape Wednesday night maam," Harry pleaded. She couldn't be this evil... even Quirril hadn't done this to students. But she was staring at him resolutely and there was a small quirk at the edge of her lips.

"With Professor Snape, but not in detention? I find that hard to believe after all the detentions he's given you over the years. He clearly knows as I do that you require a firm hand. See to your lines Mr. Potter or you'll be coming back tomorrow for more."

Harry put the quill to the paper, used to obeying, but stopped short of writing anything and pulled the tip back up when he felt his hand prickle again. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? He had no idea, but then Snape's words came back to him as clearly as Harry's own inner voice. You come here. To me.

"Now Mr. Potter, or I shall keep you after curfew and double your lines tonight."

"I'll tell my dad."

"What did you say?" Her voice dropped down an octave and the sickly sweet quality it usually held disappeared. Harry had always thought the sweetness to her voice was creepy, but this was worse somehow.

"I'm not doing lines like this. If you make me, I'm going to tell my dad. I'm going to tell Professor Snape."

Umbridge rose from her chair so fast that the sound of it scraping the floor behind her desk made Harry jump. He leaned back into his own seat as she came around her desk and grabbed his wrist. "Up! Up! I'll have no more of this tonight!"

She dragged him towards the door and threw it open.

"Where are we-" but she cut him off.

"I'm going to take you straight to Professor Snape and tell him the filthy things you've been saying about him."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again. He wasn't so sure Snape would be mad at him, and he'd rather take his chances with him than with Umbridge and her nasty quill, which was still sitting on the student desk in her office covered in his blood.

Her grip was tight on Harry's wrist but he allowed himself to be led quickly down through the castle to the Dungeons. He only hoped Snape had meant what he'd said Wednesday night.

In what seemed like a flash, they were in front of Snape's office door and she was rapping sharply on it. It opened after only a moment and Snape had a surprised look to see her there with Harry, but it disappeared after a brief moment. He stepped aside for them to enter and she dragged him in. Snape closed the door behind him and Harry hoped she'd let go of his wrist soon because he was starting to lose feeling in his fingers.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Snape asked. His voice seemed off though, like he didn't mean the words at all.

"Mr. Potter has been telling lies about you all evening. He refused to do detention with me and continued to lie about you. I am here to expose those lies as what they are now and end this foolishness."

"And what- pray tell did Mr. Potter say about me?" Snape asked. Umbridge didn't seem to notice or care about the tone in his voice. Maybe she thought the anger in it was directed at Harry, but Harry was watching Snape's eyes, which were glued to her death grip on his wrist.

"He claims he was not duelling and starting fights with other students Wednesday evening during dinner, that he was with you. Not in detention," she clarified. "Then he claimed during detention that he was going to ‘tell on me to his father', and said that you were his father. He was already doing detention for lying and duelling. Now I am ready to give him two more for besmirching your family name as well as his own."

She looked ready to turn and leave now that she'd told on Harry, but Snape started to speak. "As surprised as I am to hear that he has called me father, he was telling the truth on both counts. He was with me on Wednesday night during dinner and after dinner until curfew. He was bruised because the same boys that have been pushing him around since the start of term cornered him before dinner. That incident has already been sorted out. He is also my son. I adopted him this summer."

"That's not possible!" Umbridge said, voice high and precariously close to a screech.

"I assure you the paperwork declares that it is, and if you doubt my word about his whereabouts on Wednesday, we shall have to take the matter to the Headmaster, who stopped in on Wednesday evening after dinner to collect forms from me and saw Mr. Potter here in my quarters."

Harry was surprised Snape was lying now for him, but wondered if Dumbledore would corroborate it. She was squeezing Harry's wrist tighter now, her hand shaking and Harry grimmaced in pain.

"Now, you will remove your hand from my son, or I will find it necessary to report you to the Ministry Office Of Child Welfare for child abuse."

Realizing she was still gripping Harry's wrist she pushed his arm away from her and let go. His fingers were tingling.

She huffed, tried to bring the sweet quality back to her voice and failed, and said to Snape, "Good evening professor," and strode out of his office, leaving the door open. Snape closed it again with a swish of his wand and then warded it against eavesdropping.

"Sit," he said to Harry, who obeyed him, flexing his fingers and trying to get the blood flowing back to them again.

Harry thought he'd ask for an explanation, but instead he began looking through a potions cupboard and came back with an all too familiar tin of bruise balm.

"You must be tired of having to use this by now Harry," he chided, but he sounded more tired and weary than anything else.

"You must be tired of having to apply it," Harry countered, voice quiet. He wasn't certain what all had just happened or how he felt about it all. No one had just taken him at his word like that before, at least not an adult. Snape had stuck up for him with the police back in Swanage when the other boys had ganged up on him, but somehow this was different. He'd said to come to him if he needed help, and then when Harry had, he'd helped. It was a strange feeling and suddenly Harry felt like he didn't know this man applying balm to his wrist at all.

"What else?" Snape asked. It was a normal question now. There was always somewhere else that needed healing.

"Oh, um," Harry flexed his hand again and tried to show Snape the back of it. It still burned, but there were no words scratched there as there had been in Umbridge's office. "I had to do lines for detention, but it was with a quill that writes in blood."

"You what?" Snape sat back, a horrified look on his face. "What exactly did you write?" he demanded then.

"I must not tell lies," Harry said. "I only wrote it once. There was no ink. I started writing and it scratched the words into the back of my hand and used my blood to write the lines on the paper."

"Are you positive you only wrote the line once?" he demanded again, and Harry wasn't sure why he was so angry.

"After I wrote it once I told her I was going to tell you."

Snape looked at his face there and Harry saw confusion before he looked back down at his hand. Then he went back to his cupboard and began pulling several things out. "How many lines did she assign you?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Fifty, but she said she'd double it and then make me come back tomorrow to do more because I wasn't cooperating."

He came to his desk and filled a wooden bowl with water and began putting ingredients into it. A pinch of blue powder, a spoonful of white powder Harry was sure was ground birch beetle eyes, a dash of gray powder and then something slimy that was mashed up. He stirred it up and told Harry to submerge his hand into it.

"She made you use a blood quill. It's a cursed and forbidden object. It was once used for signing contracts which were magically bound by the signer's own blood. If you had continued to write lines your hand would become scarred. Cursed scars are difficult to remove." Harry's lightning scar tingled then as if to remind him it was there.

"I didn't know that," Harry said.

"It is not something that is taught about or widely known outside of the Cursed Artifacts Office and Aurory. The other effect is that the lines you wrote would become binding. The more you wrote them the more binding they would become. After fifty you would find it difficult to lie. After a hundred you would find it impossible. With your status and the target on your back it would put you in great danger, which she and the Ministry know."

"But they think I'm lying about Voldemort's return."

"They do not think you are lying. They also do not want you or the Headmaster to assert your authority and raise a rebellion against the Ministry. If the general public knows Voldemort is back, they will follow the two of you if you command them to."

Harry frowned at that. He didn't think he had any sort of authority. The Headmaster he could see, but who would listen to a scrawny fifteen year old?

"I will have to ask the Headmaster to secure an Unbonding Quill."

"What's that?"

"A quill that will undo the effects of the line you wrote with the Blood Quill. You will have to write the opposite of what you wrote in her office. For now the potion you are soaking your hand in will keep the curse currently in your skin at bay for a few days."

"I didn't know what to do when she said I had to keep writing lines," Harry said, looking up at Snape.

"You did the right thing."

"I wasn't sure what you'd do," Harry confessed, and Snape met his eyes.

"I will always protect you Harry," and his words sounded so sincere that Harry really believed he would and felt foolish for being uncertain about his declaration of the same Wednesday night.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"Do not be. You don't have the experience of having adults to trust to fall back on. I hope this will suffice as the start of that experience however."

"I won't forget," Harry said.

Snape walked him back up through the castle a few minutes later. Harry remembered there was a book he'd been after in the library and was surprised when Snape let him into the library after he'd told him. The library was closed now as it was after curfew for the upper years, but Snape unlocked it anyway.

"You have an interest in extracurricular Transfiguration?" Snape asked when Harry got his book.

"Hermione said I'd need it to get an O on my Transfiguration essay."

"I see."

A few minutes later Snape dropped Harry off at the entrance to Gryffindor and bade him good night.

"That took you a long time," Ron said, motioning to the book in Harry's hands when he spotted him a minute later in the common room. "Where were you?"

Harry's stomach squirmed because he wasn't sure how to answer. Ron would never believe he'd been with his father.

The Headmaster had taken Snape's request for an Unbonding Quill quite seriously. McGonagall had come into the common room Sunday afternoon to fetch Harry and take him to the Headmaster's office.

Once they were in the corridor alone Harry asked her if he'd done something wrong. Wednesday night flitted through his thoughts again, and he hoped it wasn't about that.

"You haven't done anything wrong," she assured him. "The Headmaster has something he needs you to do."

Harry couldn't imagine what that would be, but kept quiet for the few minutes it took them to get to the Headmaster's office. His father and the Headmaster were waiting inside for them.

"I would like to see your hand Harry," the Headmaster said seriously. Harry wasn't used to seeing him so serious, but held out his hand for him to take over his desk. The aging man put his palm over the top of Harry's hand, then turned it over to look at the other side, and then turned it to look at the back again. He tapped his wand to the skin on the back of Harry's hand and enchanted something under his breath and then stared at his hand as though he was trying to look right through it.

"The curse is still confined to his hand. The Unbonding Quill should work to reverse it."

Snape pulled a white quill out of an aging box that looked as though it was ready to fall apart and handed it to Harry. "Tell us again what you wrote in Umbridge's office with the Blood Quill."

"I must not tell lies," Harry repeated.

"Only once?" the Headmaster asked.

"Only once. I touched the quill to the paper after that but I lifted it up again because my hand prickled."

The two men looked at each other and Harry looked up at McGonagall who had her lips pursed.

"Write, ‘I may tell lies if I want to.' Then you must touch this quill to the paper again as you did with the Blood Quill. That will unweave the curse in your hand."

Harry nodded and then wrote what they'd told him to. He lifted the quill, then touched it down to the paper again and lifted it again. His hand was tingling again, like it did when Umbridge had gripped it so tightly, but not in an unpleasant way. His hand felt lighter now than it had been before.

"What do you feel?" the Headmaster asked.

"My hand is tingling like it did the other night, but it doesn't hurt, and it feels lighter."

The Headmaster ran the same set of curse detection spells on Harry's hand that he had when Harry first came in and then declared the curse had been lifted.

"Thank you Harry," the Headmaster said. "You may return to Gryffindor. You have fun plans with your friends for the afternoon I hope?"

"Yes sir," Harry said. McGonagall had interrupted a chess game between he and Ron, and Harry had plans with Ron and Hermione later to go over their newly rewritten papers for Charms, Transfiguration and Potions. They were hoping to get O's on them all. Ron was already imagining the letter he'd write to his mum if he got O's all week on his papers.

The Headmaster smiled and with a last look at Snape, Harry left. McGonagall went with him.

"Blood Quills are a nasty business," McGonagall commented as they went down the Headmaster's spiraling staircase. "It's good that you insisted on seeing Professor Snape when you did."

"Yes maam."

"We checked with other students and found you weren't the only one. There were three others."

"Three?" Harry asked.

"Yes. They came in before you to have their curses reversed." They made the bottom of the staircase and McGonagall held a finger up to her lips to let Harry know not to speak. She led him back to her office instead of Gryffindor tower and once inside shut and warded the door.

"Each case has been recorded. That's what the Headmaster was doing when he put his hand over yours. The evidence will be presented to the board of governors tonight and then the Ministry on Monday morning. We are hoping to have her removed. Using a Blood Quill is dark magic, and to use dark magic on students is most certainly forbidden. If you had not gone to Professor Snape, we might not have known about this."

"I didn't know," Harry said. "I just knew I didn't want to do that detention."

"I know Professor Snape has already told you this Harry, but you may also come to me or the Headmaster with any issues you are having. Professor Flitwick, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomfrey and Proffessor Sprout will also be willing to help you with anything you need. The staff that are here are chosen because of their commitment to students. Umbridge is the exception because she was forced on us by the Ministry."

Harry bit his bottom lip but at McGonagall's encouraging look he said, "But Professor Quirril-"

"He was also committed to students when he first started. It wasn't until his third year, the year you started that it became apparent that something wasn't right."

She offered him a biscuit, which he declined, and then advised him not to speak about what they'd spoken about to anyone else, not even Ron or Hermione until Umbridge was gone. They didn't want word of what was happening to get back to her before they had a chance to present it to the Ministry.

"I won't tell," Harry assured her, and she nodded.

"I want you to stay with your friends or a professor at all times until this is sorted out. I don't want you put in a situation where you may come face to face with her alone."

"Yes maam."

* * *

Monday morning McGonagall came down to Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and told everyone that Defense was cancelled for the day. "During your defense period you are all to return to the common room until your next class or meal." She moved on to Ravenclaw to pass the information along there and Harry looked up to the Head table and found that Umbridge wasn't there.

"Wonder what's going on," Ron said. He looked at Harry who was keeping his mouth shut. "Do you know?"

He nodded.

"I was told not to say anything until it's all sorted out."

"Why does it always have to be you?" Hermione said, looking unhappy.

"What do you mean?"

"Every year it's you and the defense professor trying to kill you."

"No one said she tried to kill me."

"But she did, didn't she?" Hermione said. "That's why she's not here this morning and class is cancelled? That's why you were gone for so long the other night and then Sunday afternoon."

"She didn't try to kill me," Harry insisted, but then finished with, "not exactly."

Hermione sighed. "We can use the time in the common room to work on our Herbology essay. Neville says his is finished and he's willing to share the extra information he put into his. He always gets O's in Herbology."

"Wait, aren't you going to tell us Harry? About Umbridge?"

"He will when he can Ron," Hermione chided, and Ron mimicked her silently as he put seconds of eggs onto his plate.

* * *

Umbridge was back by dinner Monday night, but on Tuesday everyone was informed that Defense was still cancelled, and she disappeared again. She was at the staff table Wednesday morning, but her class was cancelled that day too. Harry was starting to get nervous that she was going to keep her job and would find a way to make him pay for all the trouble he'd caused her. On Wednesday evening however Snape pulled Harry out of the throng of students making their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Come with me."

Harry followed him down to his quarters and was surprised to find McGonagall waiting just outside. Snape unlocked the door and then held it open for Minerva. Harry didn't fail to notice that Snape didn't ward the door this time after he closed it. He didn't lock it either and wondered if someone else would be coming to join them.

"The elves will send dinner down in a minute," Snape said, and motioned to the kitchen. Harry followed McGonagall in and sat at the table when she told him to.

"How was your day today Harry?" she asked.

"Erm, good," he said. He wasn't used to having a meal with his Head of House, or just talking to her with no good reason. If he wasn't in class and she called for him it was usually because he was in trouble or to talk about his low grades.

"I understand you've been putting more effort into your classwork lately," she said as plates appeared before them, full of food. Snape came in and sat down then. "I've been very pleased with your essays in Transfiguration."

"Erm-" he wasn't really sure what to say. "Professor Snape told me how to get O's on my essays."

Snape looked up from his roast carrots at this and frowned at the pleased look Minerva was giving him.

"And you passed this information on to Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom as well?" she asked.

"Yes maam." Not all of Harry's recent essays had been O's, but many were and he'd received several Exceed's Expectations on the rest. Ron had snagged a couple O's for himself and had been sending all of his E and O papers to his mother nightly despite the ribbing Fred and George were giving him about becoming a bookworm and teacher's pet.

"We're very pleased with everyone's progress."

"Neville's been helping us find books we need for Herbology and Hermione's been helping with Transfiguration books. Ron took on Charms and I've been reading a lot about Potions. We share the books we have each time an essay's due. We're not... cheating or anything."

"No, I can tell you're not," McGonagall said. "You each have different information in your essays and not all of them are quite so detailed."

They ate in silence for a few minutes before the door opened again and Madam Pomfrey appeared in the kitchen a few moments later. She took the last remaining seat.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I had a few last things to attend to at the Ministry before I left and had to stop at St. Mungos on the way back to pick up an Unbonding Quill with a stronger charm." A plate of food popped into existence in front of her and she began talking to Minerva about a few random things as she ate. When she fell silent Snape put his fork down, dinner half finished and looked at Harry and said, "Umbridge is gone. She won't be back to Hogwarts."

"Really?" Harry asked. He was relieved, but still felt full of anxiety and wasn't sure why.

"We've all been back and forth to the Ministy for the last few days," Pomfrey said. "I had to prove the ill effects of the curse on varous students before they would consider that she had done dark magic."

"It was foolishness," Snape said. "They tried to make a case that the Blood Quill could be used for non-dark purposes, even though it was banned over a hundred years ago."

"It wasn't looking good for us until today," McGonagall said, and Harry was surprised they were taking the time to tell him about it at all. "The Minister made a big fuss and had several legal aides and barristers there to protect her. He said the Ministry had the right to oversight of Hogwarts in any way they saw fit, despite that they already have a member on the board of governors."

"But she's actually gone now?" Harry asked.

Snape met his eyes and nodded. "Lucius Malfoy found out that Draco had been one of the students the quill had been used on and he stepped in to demand her removal. He was enraged."

"Severus," Pomfrey chastised. "We're not allowed to speak about the private affairs of other students to a student."

"You are not allowed to discuss medical issues of students," he corrected. "I however am allowed to explain to my son why that woman is banned from Hogwarts grounds for the rest of her life and thereafter."

Pomfrey hummed in a disapproving way but didn't say anything else. McGonagall was smiling at Severus again though he was pointedly ignoring her.

"Mr. Malfoy did that?" Harry asked after a few more moments of silence.

"He is on the board of directors."

"Is-" Harry hesitated for a moment and then finished, "is Draco ok?"

"His curse was one of the worst. We are still trying to break it."

"But he's going to be ok?"

"Yes," Madam Pomfrey said. "With the stronger Unbonding Quill I picked up today he'll be fine."

Harry wanted to ask what Draco had been told to write with the Blood Quill, but didn't want to be told off for being nosy so he didn't.

He felt awkward through the rest of the meal, eating with his Head of House and school Healer, but they bade them a good evening when the meal was finished and left Harry alone with his father.

"Who's going to be our new Defense Teacher?" he asked.

"Professor Dumbledore will substitute until a new teacher can be found."

"Really?" Harry asked excitedly. The prospect certainly sounded exciting.

"Yes," Snape said. "And the Defense Club will continue. This time if you wish to lead a meeting you will not be punished."

"I-" Harry paused and frowned.

"Umbridge waited until you led a meeting of the Defence Club to come down on you. That is why she was so upset when I corroborated your story. It was a made up offense in the first place and she did not expect with our history of detentions that I would contradict her."

Harry shuddered thinking about that detention again, even though it was short lived.

"Is your hand still tingling?" Snape asked when he saw Harry shake his shoulders.

"No."

"Good."

Harry generally tried to avoid Draco if he could help it. In the last couple years Draco mostly ignored Harry, and in doing so the comments and snide remarks about Harry, his parents, his clothes, and his scar had lessened, but those first couple years of bullying still stood out in Harry's mind.

Avoiding Draco and his friends usually meant Harry also didn't think about them or pay them any attention, but now he was curious about Draco and what Umbridge had made him write with the quill. The next chance Harry had to see Draco was in Potions on Monday morning. Draco had been curiously absent from meals lately. Was the curse so bad he'd been in the Hospital Wing? Harry didn't know, but he thought Draco looked like hell. He wasn't the only one to notice either it seemed.

"What's wrong with you Malfoy?" Dean asked as they stood in line outside of Potions and waited for Snape to come and open the door. "You sick or something?" Harry's eyes traveled to the blond just as those of his other classmates now that Dean had drawn attention to him.

"Shut up!" Crabbe said loudly and stepped between Dean and Draco, also blocking Harry's view.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Dean muttered as Snape opened the door and the class filed inside.

As soon as they were seated however, Harry let his eyes roam to the Slytherin side of class and found Draco there, hair looking as though he'd just rolled out of bed, clothes rumpled, and tie done up in a haphazard way.

"Everyone will need partners today. You'll be working on a potion that will take several days to brew. If you received an E or an O on your last paper raise your hand. I want those of you that received less than an E to partner with someone who has their hand raised. The potion we are brewing is both explosive and caustic and I do not want any accidents."

Hermione ended up with Dean and Seamus partnered with Ron, who had a smug look on his face to have gotten an O in Potions for once. Neville had gotten an E and partnered with Lavender. Harry kept his hand up as people partnered up, but no one came over to him.

"Harry, move across the aisle," Snape said, and Harry's eyes found Draco, who was the only one left without a partner.

Harry picked up his bag and moved and heard Draco muttering as he got closer.

"If you say one word Potter-" Draco threatened.

"Erm- it'll be kinda hard to brew if I can't talk," Harry pointed out.

"About me Potter, or my clothes."

"I hadn't planned to," Harry said.

"I can't believe I got stuck with you. How you even got an O-" but Draco trailed off as Snape walked by and set a satchel of caustic ingredients down at their workbench and then moved to the next to do the same.

"I learned how to get O's, that's all," Harry said.

He began laying out his cutting and measuring tools as Draco copied the instructions from the blackboard.

After a few minutes of silence as they prepared to start their potion and retrieved the other ingredients they needed from the supply cupboard Draco said irritably, "Well, are you going to tell me or not?"

"Tell you what?"

"The supposed magic formula you have for getting O's."

Harry laughed then and Draco glared at him. Harry explained how to get O's on papers and Draco huffed. "Everyone knows that Potter. You weren't doing that from the start?"

"I noticed you didn't get an O on your last paper," Harry said.

"I couldn't go to the library for the book I needed."

"Why not?"

"It's none of your business Potter."

"Ok."

They began working and Harry made sure to tell Draco that they needed to keep the three caustic ingredients on their workbench separate until it was time to add them to the potion, but other than that they didn't talk for thirty minutes. Draco seemed like he didn't want to talk and was already upset with Harry even though he hadn't done anything to him, and Harry was content not to rile him up.

After Potions Harry continued to wonder about the blond Slytherin as Ron boasted to Hermione about saving their potion when his partner had tried to add the wrong ingredients in the wrong order. Hermione let him, and Harry's attention was pulled to them just long enough to wonder if she was happy that he was getting good grades, or if she was happy to have a friend to discuss difficult Potions with.

Draco was absent from lunch that day, and dinner as well, and the next morning in Herbology the boy looked as though he'd just rolled out of bed again.

"What's with him?" Ron asked Harry quietly, and Harry shrugged. It wasn't like Draco to look anything less than the perfect Malfoy heir, and he definitely seemed touchy about his looks judging by the way he had been snapping at people about it lately. So he didn't look like that by choice, Harry decided. He also didn't look ill like Dean had suggested the day before, so it wasn't that he was too sick to brush his hair or fold his clothes so they weren't wrinkled. It had to be the curse preventing him from doing those things. Draco had to attend classes, but he could skip meals to stay out of sight.

Feeling like he had finally worked out a particularly satisfying riddle, Harry rose early the next morning with a plan. He felt like he owed Draco a favor for helping him out of the Hufflepuff corridor after Cedric's cousins had punished him, and he definitely owed Draco's father a favor for helping them get rid of Umbridge.

It was only six in the morning as Harry stood in the Entrance Hall beside the entrance to the Dungeons. He'd only seen a few early risers come down to breakfast, and knew most of the rest of the students wouldn't show up until seven, or half seven if they were running late.

Draco appeared at six forty five, looking irritable, and now that he was up close, Harry noted his face and hair looked like they hadn't been washed in a week or more.

"Draco," Harry said.

Draco startled at Harry's voice right by his ear, but then gave him a glare.

"What do you want Potter?" he spat. Harry fought the urge to flinch back. If Draco was feeling particularly venomous today he'd rather stay away, but he was determined to carry out his plan, no matter how many insults the Slytherin threw at him.

"I have to talk to you." When Draco shot him another dirty look, Harry said quickly, "Right now. It's an emergency."

"Fine," Draco said, but when Harry didn't start speaking again he rolled his eyes and lifted his hand as if giving Harry permission to continue.

"Not here," Harry said. "Follow me."

"You'll make me late to breakfast."

"You weren't going into the Great Hall anyway," Harry said, leading off up the stairs to the first floor. Draco followed him, and Harry led him to the far end of the first floor to a boys bathroom not generally used until classes started. There was one closer to the Entrance Hall, but he didn't want anybody to walk in.

Once they were inside the bathroom, Draco said irritably, "What is it Potter?"

Harry set his bag down and rummaged around in it, coming out with a comb. "I know what's wrong with you. I know what Umbridge did."

"And!?" Draco spat, looking like he was ready to turn and storm out of the bathroom.

"I'm gonna fix it."

Draco gave him and the comb a wary look. "The Headmaster is still waiting for a more powerful quill to come in. The one from St. Mungos didn't work."

"I'm gonna make you look presentable until the curse is broken. You can't take care of your looks right? But does the curse say I can't?"

Draco's eyes travelled up to Harry's messy long hair, and Harry started talking in a hurry before the other boy could put down his own appearance. "I'm not that good at hair, but I can do your tie up, and I know a spell to remove wrinkles from robes, and I could do your hair better than it is now. It's not gonna be perfect, but maybe good enough for you to start going to meals again."

Draco sighed and looked tired all of a sudden, like he'd lost hope and had nothing left to lose. Harry didn't wait for him to say no and hurried forward with the comb. "We can use the sink to wash your hair and face real quick and then I can use a drying spell."

"I don't have any shampoo. The curse won't even let me pick up soap."

Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of shampoo from the Gryffindor supply cupboard.

"Gryffindor," Draco muttered, and moved to the sink. "How are we gonna do this?"

"Just put your head in the sink and I'll wash your hair real quick."

Harry was certain he felt as strange as Draco as he turned on the tap and got the boy's hair wet with warm water. He'd never washed someone elses hair before or taken care of anybody else. He worked quickly and had Draco's hair washed and rinsed in under two minutes. He sent three drying spells at it and then made Draco close his eyes and washed his face with hand soap from the sink dispenser. The boy sputtered and cursed at Harry when Harry poked him in the eye, but otherwise stayed silent, his pale face red with embarrassment.

When his face was dry Harry set to work combing Draco's hair flat. "Why didn't anybody in Slytherin help you do this?"

"Slytherins don't ask with help. Besides... it's embarrassing. Malfoy's aren't supposed to show weakness in front of their peers."

"But- they didn't even offer to help?"

"Pansy did." Then Draco shook himself. "I'd be in debt to her. She'd want me to get back together with her again."

Harry finished his hair and let Draco look at it in the mirror as he began to tie his tie where it had been hanging loosely around his neck before.

"The curse won't even let you shower?" he asked.

"No."

"What'd you do to make Umbridge so mad? What exactly did she make you write?"

"What did she make you write?" Draco countered.

"I must not tell lies," Harry said. "But I only wrote it once, and the quill the Headmaster had was able to break it."

"She's a monster."

Harry began using the spell to unwrinkle Draco's uniform and robes and Draco said after a long moment, "I stayed after class one day to ask if she was going to start teaching us real defensive spells. She asked why we would need it, and I told her the Dark Lord had returned."

"She didn't take it well," Harry said. It wasn't a question.

"Later in detention she caught me picking dirt from under a fingernail. I had to write, "I will not preen myself," a hundred times. "Apparently it means I can't even take care of basic things like washing or folding my clothes or brushing my teeth."

"That sucks," Harry said, standing back. Draco looked mostly decent now, or at least well enough to go to breakfast. If they hurried they could catch the last 30 minutes of it.

"You can't bathe," Harry said. "But could you go for a swim?"

Draco glared at him, but Harry said, "I'm not insulting you, I'm asking if there's a workaround. Isn't the Prefect's bathroom a big swimming pool? When you get in the spells will send in soap automatically. You could just swim around for a bit. It's not the same as an actual bath but it's something."

Draco didn't answer him. He looked at himself in the mirror, gave a look to Harry as though he didn't know who was standing in front of him, and then strode out of the bathroom without as much as a thank you. Harry hadn't expected one however, and felt satisfied that he'd returned the favor he owed. Draco did go to breakfast and sat at Slytherin table, and Harry didn't look across the hall at him at all as he scarfed down an orange and had a quick cup of hot chocolate before class.

* * *

Ron rubbed sleep from his eyes. Harry had been getting up early to study, and if his friend could put in the extra effort to get better grades, he felt like he should at least try to do the same. He didn't want to be behind his friends again. He sort of liked being able to brag to his parents and siblings about getting good grades for once, and now that he was in the routine of things, it wasn't really that much extra work. Hermione had been looking at him differently too now that his grades had gone up, and he liked it. He'd never go to the lengths Percy had gone to before he had graduated, but Ron almost fancied himself becoming Head Boy. At least he could dream about something, despite having to rise early to find Harry. He'd been disappearing the last few mornings before Ron woke, and had been coming in to breakfast late. He had to be studying in the library.

But Harry wasn't in the library. It was half six and the library was empty. There weren't even any Ravenclaws in there. Where was he then? Ginny had been in the common room when he'd passed through, and he'd been told Hermione had been having a lie in, so he wasn't off with either of them somewhere.

Ron checked a few places they sometimes hung out, and then a few bathrooms on his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. On the first floor, he pushed open a bathroom door and found Harry combing Draco Malfoy's hair in front of a mirror.

"Harry- what?"

Harry and Draco froze, staring at Ron as the bathroom door banged closed. Ron's mouth was open as his eyes traveled from Harry to Draco, to the comb, and then back again. Instead of answering, Harry turned back to his task, quicking combing the blond boy's hair and accidentally pulling it when he hit a tangle, causing Draco to curse and ball up his fists.

Ron's mind worked furiously over what he was seeing. Draco stood there in rumpled clothes, shoes untied, tie undone. He'd been looking better the last few days though. He'd been seen at meals again and hadn't been snapping at people as often.

Ron strode forward and snatched the comb out of Harry's hand. Harry stood back and bit his lip, waiting for his friend to yell at him. Instead Ron said, "You're doing it wrong. You can't brush it like yours. He pushes it to the other side."

"What's happening here?" Draco asked warily as Ron began pushing the hair to the correct side with the comb. Harry thought it was ironic considering it was the question he had expected Ron to shout at them.

"Well I know Harry's not in love with you. He's into Ginny," and Draco's face heated up. "If he's hiding away in a random bathroom doing this it's gotta be because you can't and you're too stubborn to ask anybody for help."

Draco snapped his mouth closed.

"And why are you doing this?" Draco asked when Ron finished and Harry began sending spells at Draco's shoelaces to tie them into a bow, and at his robes to unrumple them. Ron set to work on Draco's tie.

"So Harry doesn't miss breakfast because he's trying to be your friend."

When they were done, Draco gave them both an odd look and practically fled the bathroom.

"This is where you've been disappearing to the last few days?" Ron asked, surprise in his voice.

"What Umbridge did to me with the quill, she did to him only a hundred times worse. His dad did get rid of her. We owe him don't you think?"

"The last thing you want is to owe a Malfoy a favor," Ron agreed, and they headed to breakfast.

* * *

Albus had taken note that young Mr. Malfoy had seemed to be in better spirits over the last week. His hair and clothes were tidier and he appeared to have bathed. Had the spell broken down on it's own? Given how severe the curse was and that it had left his hand and travelled up into his arm and shoulder he doubted it. It was a curiosity, given that Slytherins, and Malfoys in particular didn't ask for help even in dire situations. If there was one thing the Headmaster loved, it was a good puzzle to solve. It was with this in mind that he spoke with the portraits one morning and asked where Mr. Malfoy was. He'd expected them to say the Prefect's bathroom, but instead they directed him to a bathroom at the back of the castle on the first floor. How interesting.

Albus approached the bathroom door and heard voices from inside. He paused to listen, but couldn't tell exactly who was on the other side of the door. He eased it open just far enough to see and found Harry Potter and Ron Weasley laughing and chatting with each other, and Draco Malfoy standing stock still with his eyes closed as Ron combed through the boy's blond hair and Harry reached down to tie the Slytherin's shoes.

"Come on Harry, you can't come in here and help him with his hair every morning and not do anything about yours. You know mum'd attack your hair with scissors if you gave her half a chance."

"Well I'd like to go to a barber, but I never get the chance do I? You think I like it long and tangly all the time?"  The last time his hair had been cut had been at the orphanage by Peter before Snape had taken him out of there.

"He's right," Draco said as Harry stood and began spelling the boy's robe straight and wrinkle free. "You should cut it as soon as possible. It should be short on top and shorter at the sides."

"I've never worn it short."

"You should."

That was all it seemed young Mr. Malfoy was going to say however, and closed his mouth as the other fifth year boys finished up. Albus pulled his head back from the door and eased it closed so they wouldn't notice him there. What an oddly pleasant surprise. He never would have expected the three to get along at all, let alone for the two Gryffindors to help a Slytherin in need. Had it been Harry's doing, or Ron's?

Albus headed to breakfast with a small smile on his lips and possibilities playing across his mind. With Ron's increased grades and new willingness to help students in need, even those he didn't like, he was starting to look like a suitable candidate for Head Boy. Perhaps in two years he would have grown enough to take the honor of such a position.

By the time he'd had breakfast, and then had tea later in his office at ten, Albus was certain the entire thing had been Harry's idea, but the fact that Ron had helped at all showed his willingness to change. Yes, this morning was full of pleasant surprises wasn't it?