An owl landed in front of him. The letter was addressed to Snape. Before he had time to open it, there was a bustle, and yelling.

Snape jumped up without hesitation, and hurried over. Several people were restraining someone. Snape couldn’t see who. “Come on, you nutter, drink up.”

Someone said cheerfully. There was a further struggle.

“Oy!” Snape yelled. Several people turned, and Snape saw they were crowded around a bloodied and beaten Harry Potter. He looked up at Snape, ashamed. His cheeks burned pink.

“Let him go.” Snape demanded.

“He’s a nutter!” A boy protested.

“He’s trying to cause panic.” Another said. Snape looked at the boy holding a potion.

“What are you trying to pour down his throat?” He demanded.

“The Draught of Living death. He’ll never wake, but he won’t die.” The boy explained, proud of his clever idea.

“That’s illegal. I would advise you to let him go.” Snape replied coldly.

“Or what? You think he’s going to try to bring You Know Who back?” The boy asked, sneering at Harry. Snape drew a deep breath.

“Let’s see, how about fifty points each from your respective houses, and a month's detention?” Snape demanded. Everyone scrambled, dropping Potter like a load of rubbish. Snape offered his hand to Harry, who looked up in surprise, taking it. Snape smiled, pulling him to his feet.

“They won’t hurt you ever again. I’ll see to it. But for now, you need to go see Madam Pomfrey.” Snape said gently. Potter shook his head.

“I’d rather not.” He whimpered. Snape hesitated, then led Harry up the stairs, to the seventh floor corridor. Harry didn’t resist, and Snape walked past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet. Harry mused over the picture for a moment, when a door opened, and Snape led him in.

It was like the hospital wing, but without madam pomfrey, and there were books lining the walls. Books about healing. Snape made Harry lay down, and began to peruse the volumes.

Once he found one he thought was useful, he sat beside Harry and began to scan the pages, looking for a remedy. Harry watched, anxiously.

“All right, I think I know what to do.” Snape beamed.

He pointed his wand at Harry’s limp wrist.

“Episkey.” He said softly. Harry smiled, moving his now healed wrist. Then, aiming at Harry's face, Snape muttered,

“Tergeo.” Instantly, Harry’s bloody face was clean. There were several deep gashes now clearly visible.

"Vulnera Sanentur.” Snape now muttered. They closed.

“For now, you’ll need rest.” Snape told him. Harry nodded.

“Won’t you stay with me?” He asked. Snape smiled.

“Of course.” He agreed.

“But Potter, be warned. Your story is causing a bit of trouble for you, and those around you.” Snape informed him.

“I just, I want to give as many people a chance as possible. What if he starts killing again? What if he—?” But Snape cut him off.

“Then you will stop him, like you’ve done three times already.” Snape replied.

Severus noticed Harry had his hand bandaged in class. He struggled to chop his roots. As he passed by, he overheard him talking to Hermione in hushed whispers.

"You've got to go to Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione hissed.

"No way. She'd get what she wanted." Harry replied.

"Potter, less talking, and more concentration. It is clear you can't chop your roots. Have a friend assist you." Snape muttered softly.

Hermione looked up in surprise. She hadn't seen Severus walking by so closely, and now he strode past.
At the end of the class, Severus called Harry to stay after.

"Let me see what she's done." Snape instructed. Harry nodded, and unwrapped his hand. He showed Snape.

"You're sticking with your story, then?" he prompted.

"I'm not lying!" Harry replied defensively. Snape held up a hand to silence him.

"I know, Potter. Obviously you couldn't have killed Diggory, and the evidence leans towards the killing curse. Your wand has never, and should never perform that." Snape muttered.

"I cannot continue this discussion. Come and see me when your detentions are over, and I'll make this go away." Snape added, in an undertone.

Harry nodded, and raced off. He would probably tell his friends, but no matter. He had other things to worry about. He had stopped making veritaserum. Umbridge was using quite a lot.

He then thought back to the draught of living death potion that was almost forced down Harry's throat. That child was a fool. He could have killed Harry. It's a poison, not a coma inducing potion.

Good thing Snape had a knack for spotting trouble. If only the children were at his level.

Snape began to brew the complicated Potion Potter needed. He mumbled incantations under his breath as he went. This potion was a creation of his own, that helped with cursed wounds.

It didn't always cure all of them, but it should work on a blood Quills cursed scars. Potter was telling the truth after all. He deserved some relief.

It was a week later, and Harry returned, as arranged by Severus. Severus ladled some of the potion into a goblet, and handed it to Harry. It was pure white.

"It's not going to taste very good, but it will help." Severus warned Harry. Harry didn't think twice. He gulped it down, and nearly gagged. Severus handed him a bit of toffy.

"Try this. At least this tastes better." He said. Harry nodded, taking it. He winced, and looked at his hand, the scars faded before his eyes.

"Whenever you have a detention with her, let me know, And I will have this ready for you." Severus told Harry, who nodded.

"How do the muggles treat you?" He asked Harry suddenly. "They don't like me very much, but since I let slip I have a god father who is a wanted murderer, they've pretty much ignored me." Harry said. Snape smiled.

"I suppose you did not mention Pettigrew was alive, meaning he was innocent?" Snape asked. Harry grinned.

"So you do believe me!" He said.

"I ran into Pettigrew in a pub over the summer." Snape explained. Harry laughed.