Snape and Harry finished eating breakfast in silence.

When he was done, Harry went up to his room and glanced quickly to see if everything was packed away in his trunk. Satisfied, he pulled his trunk down the stairs. Being much smaller now he struggled with its weight. Reaching the kitchen, Harry sat down at the table to rest and wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. Seconds later he was back up to go and retrieve Hedwig's cage.

"Why did you bring the trunk all the way down here?" Snape asked before Harry could go back up the stairs.

"Um, I thought we were leaving now," Harry said, pointing towards the floo.

"We can walk to King's Cross. It's only twenty minutes away."

Groaning Harry returned to his trunk and started to lug it back up the stairs.

"What are you doing now?" Snape snapped.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Harry snapped right back.

"Watch your tone," Snape scolded. Pulling out his wand Snape waved it and the trunk shrank. "You are a wizard, Potter. Use your head."

Pocketing his trunk, Harry muttered to himself, "I'm not allowed to do magic out of school, but, of course, I should have shrunk it. That way I could be expelled— just like you've always wanted. If I just had my wand—" Harry gasped! He hadn't thought about his wand in a long time. When was the last time he saw it? He looked around frantically as if it might just be lying somewhere along the floor. "My wand! Where's my wand!"

Snape meet Harry's panicked eyes with an amused look on his face. After letting the boy worry a bit more, Snape pulled Harry's wand out of his robe pocket.

"I was wondering when you would ask about this," Snape said as he handed it over.

Quickly, Harry snatched it away and inspected it closely to make sure it was unharmed.

"And no, I did not want you to do magic," Snape corrected. Harry blushed; he hadn't thought Snape could actually make out what he was saying. "However, you could have asked for assistance, since you clearly needed some."

In response, Harry settled on a snort. And instead of muttering this time, he kept his thoughts to himself. He slipped his wand into a pocket and then sprinted back up to his room to get Hedwig's cage.

Entering his room, he found Hedwig perched on his windowsill looking out at the beautiful day.

"Hey Hedwig," Harry said sweetly. Biting his bottom lip in anticipation, he slowly reached out to stroke the bird's back. He let out a breath when she didn't fly away from him.

Hedwig turned around to look at Harry and nipped lovingly at his fingers. She gave him a hoot that resembled "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, girl." Harry scratched her neck as she leaned in to the perfect position. "So, would you like to fly to the school or come with me on the train?"

Hedwig leapt of the windowsill and flew over to her cage. She climbed in and pulled the door closed.

"You're coming with me then," Harry said, as he picked up the cage.

He found Snape, arms folded, waiting impatiently at the base of the stairs. The man didn't acknowledge Harry's arrival; instead, he opened the door and walked out. Harry contemplated staying put, to be difficult, to force Snape into asking him to come along. But, in the end, Harry quietly followed.

As they walked silently to King's Cross, Harry suddenly wanted to turn around and run back to Grimmauld Place. He never thought he would miss it— of all places. Of course, he realized it wasn't the house he would miss, but, rather, the relationship he had formed there. Towards the end, he had found Snape's company not only bearable, but also desirable. Now, what would he do when he had a nightmare? Well even if he stayed at Grimmauld Place, he was too old to be coddled, but someone to rely on would be nice.

Harry knew he had lost Snape. Not that I ever had him! He tried to remind himself just why he hated the Potion's Master so much, but all it did was make him sad.

No one loved him. The Durlseys never had— to them he was just an abnormal, good-for-nothing, freak. And they were family; they were supposed to love him.

He did have his friends, but that was different. He loved them and they loved him, but friends were friends.

He wanted more, a family, someone to hold him when he was sad or to scold him when he was bad. Someone, who could tell him that it was okay, it was okay to be scared.

And he was scared, so scared that he was ashamed. How could he Voldemort? How could he defeat this man— was he even a man anymore?

Of course, he had had his parents once. He knew they had loved him. But they had died because of it and left him all alone when he was just a baby.

And then Sirius had loved him, but a lot of good that did. The man ended up dying because of it. The guilt Harry felt over this was almost too much to bear. He wouldn't accept it— he couldn't. He knew there must be a way to get him back. Sirius' death was just too easy. Who falls and dies just like that? Harry would never give up. Once he was back at school, he would search every inch of the library looking for a way to get his godfather back. And he would have to do it all on his own; he couldn't trust anyone to help. He was deathly afraid that someone would say that rescuing Sirius was hopeless.

A hand reached up and pulled him by the forearm, jerking him out of his thoughts. Harry looked up to realize that they had reached the train station. Numbly, he followed the tug on his arm as he was pulled to the divider between platforms nine and ten.

"Go," Snape ordered.

"Wait," Harry said, looking back at Snape. This was his last chance to make things up, to salvage any sort of relationship. Harry looked Snape square in the eye and was met with a rather frightening glare. Bravely, he ignored the look and said, "I'm really sorry … about what I said." Harry waited for some sort of reaction from the man, but only the glare continued. "And I… I wanted to thank you, … er for everything." Still Snape had no reaction, and as every ever of silence passed, Harry felt worse. In one final effort, Harry said, "It's just, when we return to school… I don't want… I don't—"

But Harry couldn't finish his statement, because the Potions Master's hand had twisted him around and was now pushing him through the divider to platform nine and three quarters.

"I don't want to lose contact with you," Harry said as he stepped out of the magical barrier. But when he turned around Snape was gone.

Startled, Harry looked around frantically. He was a little relieved when he could see Snape's head bobbing through the crowd, but at the same time he felt crushed. For a moment, he knew that he would start crying, but he was interrupted by a great big hug.

"Hey ya mate," a rather large Ron Weasley said.

Ron released his tight grip and Harry was able to breath, briefly. Another set of arms wrapped around him as Hermione said, "we've missed you so much. And there's loads we've got to tell you."

"We better get on the train first," Ginny warned. Harry blushed when she went to hug him, as she too was now taller than he was.

Ron took Hedwig's cage from Harry in order to help him. They stepped onto the train quickly and found an empty car.

"Harry, we've gotten permission to stay with you during the trip," Hermione said as she sat down. Harry sighed in relief. Usually Ron and Hermione would have to ride with the prefects.

"Oh hey and guess what? Ginny's a prefect!" Ron boasted.

Beaming with pride, Ginny turned to show Harry the prefects badge on her robes.

"That's great, Ginny," Harry acknowledged.

Before Ron could stow away Hedwig's cage, Harry let the bird out so she could ride on his knee. He sat down in the seat nearest the window, and waited for the others to settle in. Ron sat across from him, Ginny at Ron's side and Hermione sat next to Harry.

"So, tell me, what have you been up to?" Harry asked.

"Oh, well we have loads to tell you. But first, Harry, what happened to you?" Hermione asked.

"Um… er. I thought Dumbledore told you."

"He did," Ron said, leaning in close to whisper, "but we figured there was more to the truth."

At that, Harry laughed. They all looked back at him both confused and a little miffed. "There always is with Dumbledore," Harry clarified. "He always tells half the truth."

"I knew it!" Hermione exclaimed. She waited on the edge of her seat, ready to hear more of the juicy details.

To everyone's dismay, Harry said, "I can't tell you. I promised not to. I'm sorry guys, I really am. But we all need to stick with the story they've come up with." As crappy as it may be, Harry added to himself. He was not looking forward to the welcoming feast. Everyone laughing at him…

"How long will it take before you get back to your normal age?" Ginny asked.

"Snape said it might take awhile, because he's run out of some ingredient and he's probably going to need to grow it. So, I'm stuck looking like I'm twelve."

"More like eleven," Ron added. "I'm sorry mate, but you look like you did when I first met you."

"Just great, I look like a first year!" Harry whined.

"So did you really have to stay with Professor Snape?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah—"

"Oh, that must have been awful, Harry," Ron said. "To spend half your summer with the greasy git." By now, Ron was making gagging motions as if he might sick up. Normally, this would have made Harry laugh, but really, he felt a little angry.

"Snape wasn't that bad," Harry corrected.

"Not that bad?" Ron choked.

"Yeah, I mean he was there for me," took care of me… held me when I was scared…. He wanted to tell them everything, but at the same time he was embarrassed. He was sixteen, after all. Besides, he had been told to keep quiet about everything. "Look, I can't explain it, but trust me, Snape isn't that bad."

"I suppose he could be better than your relatives," Hermione suggested.

"Well, they're really not hard to beat," Harry said. "At least with Snape, I could eat everyday."

"Why did you leave the Dursley's anyway?" Ron asked. "You don't really need remedial potions, do you?"

"No!" Harry shouted, with more gusto then he originally intended. "Er… well." He wished he could take that statement back. He was supposed to stick by the cover story, after all. "Don't tell anyone I said that."

"Of course we won't Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "We knew you didn't have to take Remedial Potions. We thought that you might be doing something with Occlumency again."

He pondered over telling them the truth, about the Dursley's at least. No one said he couldn't discuss his relatives. He just had to keep quiet about his deaging. "Look, I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you about this, but well… well they never said I couldn't. Something weird happened to the Dursleys."

Harry paused, and so Ginny prompted, "Like what?"

He wanted to say, 'It all started with the werewolves…' but decided to keep his mouth shut about that as well. Instead he settled on, "Well, for a while they were a bit catatonic and stayed in St. Mungo's. And then one day," after the full moon, "they woke up and demanded to go home. When Snape took me back there to get something… they acted really strange. First, they didn't even acknowledge me. And then, when I touched my uncle's knee, he came alive with rage— chased after me like some sort of wild animal. If Snape hadn't been there, I don't know what would have happened. As soon as Snape intervened, Uncle Vernon dropped to the ground and screamed in pain."

Hermione gasped, "What did Snape do?"

"He didn't do anything," Harry answered. "And my uncle didn't stop screaming until after I left the room. Before we returned to Grimmauld Place, I saw that he had returned to the couch and was just sitting there. Like nothing had happened at all. I'm telling you guys—it was really weird. I mean they all just sat there, like they were programmed to do so… or something like that."

"Programmed?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, sorry, muggle-term," Harry explained. "They acted like they were under control, sort of like the Imperious Curse."

"And you two just left them there?" Hermione asked. "Alone?"

"Well…" Harry hadn't thought about it. What did become of his relatives? "I suppose Snape contacted someone about it… did something. I didn't think to ask."

"You didn't think to ask?" Hermione repeated. "But why?"

"If they were my relatives," Ron defended. "I wouldn't care to ask about them either."

A part of Harry agreed; he didn't really care about the Dursleys. But their situation was really odd and no doubt directly related to one of Voldemort's plots. Harry hadn't thought about a lot of things, though. Perhaps that was a result of his deaging. Besides, at the time, he had Snape there to take care of things for him.

"I trust that Snape must have done something," Harry said. "And I'll ask him later what he did."

"So you trust Snape now?" Ron asked, sounding a bit confused.

"Yeah … er well, I guess," Harry replied nervously. "I know he'd never allow anyone to hurt me."

"But what about in Diagon Alley?" Ron asked, "I saw him pull you up by the ear. I mean, at the time, I didn't know it was you, but Dumbledore explained..."

"Yeah, and then we saw you leaving the bathroom," Hermione added. "And you looked, well… er."

Now everyone was blushing, Harry worst of all.

"It was an act," Harry said quickly. "Snape said he was supposed to appear harsh. And I just pretended that he hurt me. He didn’t hurt me at all. I did a pretty good job of it though, didn't I? Sure fooled you guys!"

"Are you sure?" Ron pressed.

"Of course I'm sure. I was there. Remember? Snape did not hurt me. He would never hurt me. I trust him."

Ron looked back at him confused, but he didn't press the issue. The others all appeared lost for words and settled upon staring blankly across the compartment.

"So, tell me, what's been happening with you?" Harry said, breaking the silence.

"Well, Ron, you should start with your story," Hermione said looking over to Ron.

"Ginny and I went to visit Charlie in Romania. And we were coming back on the train. We were nearly home when death eaters attacked us. Ginny and I had to fend them off until the Aurors arrived."

"What do you mean Ginny and I," Ginny chided. "You went and got yourself knocked out and I had to ward the door. And quit exaggerating—we didn't see any of the death eaters. Dad came and Apparated us away from the battle."

"Well, I was injured pretty badly," Ron added.

"Yeah, he was, kept muttering weird stuff after he regained consciousness," Ginny said. "And Dad left me all alone with him in the middle of this random orchard. Ron had a gash on his head and it kept bleeding. I didn't know where to go for help, so I just had to wait for him to return. Mum was so mad at him about that."

"Then I was taken to St. Mungo's. I had to take some Blood Replenishing Potion. I felt sick for a few days afterwards, and Mum wouldn't leave me alone—kept doing everything for me."

"As I recall," Hermione interjected, "you didn't mind being waited on."

"You were with him?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Hermione answered, "after the train incident, Ginny, Ron and I all had to stay in Diagon Alley at the Leaky Cauldron. Apparently, we were much safer there than at the Burrow."

"Mum and Dad stayed with us too," Ron added. "And during the day, we were at Fred and George's store."

"That must have been torture," Harry said sarcastically.

"Well, we weren't allowed to go anywhere that an order member couldn't see us," Ron added.

"Still, I bet you guys had fun. I wish you could have come to Grimmauld Place," Harry said wistfully.

"Yeah, I wonder why they wouldn't let us," Ginny said. "Sure they wanted to keep your deaging secret, but we found out anyway."

Oh yeah, the deaging. On second thought, Harry was glad they hadn't seen him. Being eleven wasn't so bad and he could live with them seeing his glamoured five-year-old self. But crawling around as a baby, throwing his little fits…. Being scared and snuggling up to Snape—no, that would have been too much.

A knock at the door brought Harry out of his thoughts. Ginny got up to open the compartment.

"Anything off the trolley dears?" the witch asked.

"Um… er," Harry wanted something, but he remembered that he didn't have any money.

"Oh hey, that reminds me," Ron said. "Mum gave me this." He pulled out a velvet pouch from his pocket. The clinking sound revealed the presence of many coins. "She got it out of your vault for you, so that you'd have money for school. Your key is in there as well."

"Thanks," Harry said. And after pulling out some coins, he pocketed the rest.

Harry settled on some, cauldron cakes and sat down to eat them while the others ordered their own food.

"Tired of Chocolate Frogs?" Ron asked.

"Oh no, I've still got loads of those left."

"Still?"

"Well, you gave me a whole bunch," Harry replied. "And I've been a bit off lately."

"Right," Ron replied.

And suddenly, they all started laughing—deep-hearted, laugh-till-you-cry, kind of laughter. Harry fell to his side, and Ron nearly fell off his seat.

A while later, sides aching, Harry sat back up. He missed this. He needed this. A good chuckle— for a little while he could pretend that he was normal—uust your average teenage boy returning to school.

"Man, I missed you guys," Harry said as he wiped some tears away from his eyes.

"Yeah, we missed you," Hermione replied.

Ron looked up to say something too, but stopped and started to laugh again, his comment completely forgotten. He was pointing over at Harry's cheek.

Confused, Harry raised a hand to feel if something was wrong. An empty candy wrapper was stuck to his face. Blushing, he pulled it away and flung it at Ron. Although he threw the garbage with all of his strength, it merely fluttered a meter before falling to the floor. This caused yet more laugher out of Ron and got the others started all over again. Harry blushed a deeper shade of red and kicked Ron in the shin.

The boy responded by pointing and muttering some incoherent phrases. Apparently, he was trying to describe the scene. This set Harry off again, especially after Ron accidentally snorted.

They were so busy laughing that they hardly noticed the blonde-haired boy who stood in the doorway, wand drawn. Two massive boys flanked him, fists clenched.

"Will you look at that?" Draco drawled. "Two weaslebies, a mudblood, and a first year. Going to pee your pants? Accio Wands." Before any of them could react, four wands flew across the compartment. Draco didn't bother with trying to catche them. It didn't matter. With the wands at his feet, he knew he had the upper hand. Sneering Draco continued, "Where's Potter? I'd like to have a word."

The teens all stood up, ignoring the tears of joy on their faces.

"I'm right here, Malfoy," Harry snapped. But to his dismay, his friends crowded in front of him, protectively. Harry tried to push Ron and Hermione apart so he could see what was going on, but they were too big. He really did feel like a little eleven-year-old now.

"That's Potter?" Draco asked, and then laughed hysterically. Although it was apparent Crabbe and Goyle didn't get what was going on, they laughed as well. "What happened to you? No matter, I suppose I won't need my wand at all!"

"I'd like to see you try and get through us Malfoy," Ginny sneered.

"All right," Draco replied casually.

Draco raised his wand, but before he could so much as breathe a word, Hermione lunged at him. Draco was so caught off guard, that even her small weight managed to push him back into the hall. Unfortunately, she fell out of the compartment as well and was easily caught by Goyle. The boy pinned her arms behind her back, allowing Draco the time to regain his composure.

"You filthy little mudblood," Draco spat. Before Hermione could shout an insult back, Draco's fist collided sharply with her jaw.

At the same time, Ron retrieved his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Instantly, Goyle surrendered his grasp on Hermione and backed away, hands in the air.

Hermione wavered on her feet, but Ron reached over to support her shoulder. Now Harry and Ginny also had their wands. They advanced towards Draco with a murderous look on their faces. They knew they had him. The only problem now was deciding what curse to throw at him.

"Expelliarmus," a man shouted. Harry paled, as did the others—all of them. They knew that voice very well. Even Draco looked like a small boy with his hand in the cookie jar. "What is going on here?" Snape snapped.

"I… er," Draco stammered. But then a thought occurred to him and he continued calmly. "I was doing my prefect's duty. Checking on the other students to make sure everything was okay. And then they attacked me—"

"That's a lie," Ron shouted.

"They were looking for Harry," Ginny added. "And look what Draco did to Hermione."

"Detention!" Snape shouted, "for the four of you." He pointed at the Gryffindors as he fixed them with a glare.

"But that's not fair," Ron whined.

"For a week," Snape amended. Harry opened his mouth to protest as well. But Snape raised an eyebrow, daring him to complain. Consequently Harry snapped his mouth shut.

"Draco, follow me," Snape commanded and stalked down the hall. The boy looked paler than Harry imagined a human being could get. He suddenly felt a little happy; perhaps they fared better than Draco after all.

Once the Slytherins were out of sight, they gathered up their wands. Ginny then shut the compartment door and warded it to make sure no one would get in.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked as he looked over Hermione's bruised face.

"Yeah, I suppose I can see Madame Pomfrey after the welcoming feast."

"So, Harry, you trust that greasy git?" Ron shouted. "After he gave us detention? He's so unfair. Obviously, he favors his little junior death eaters!"

"Look Ron, I know that Snape was being unfair. But you weren't at Grimmauld Place with me this summer; you don't know what happened." Thank Merlin… but he wished Ron could understand. "I know this sounds crazy, but things have changed between us."

Ron glared at Harry, and for a moment both boys looked like they might be ready for a real row.

But Harry couldn't stay mad. Sighing, he sat down and looked pitifully over at Hermione. A large bruise was forming on her lower jaw. Ginny had transfigured a small pillow into an ice pack.

"Maybe it was an act," Harry added. The others looked back at him unconvinced. "You know, he's got to keep up his appearances around Malfoy." Harry tried to sound confident, but he ended up desperate. And he must have looked desperate, too, because the others all gave him pitying looks.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ron said. "I don't mean to question you. I know Snape's on our side and all, but I still don't think that makes him a nice guy. He has been a right git since the moment I've met him. Just look at everything the man has done—"

"I have Ron!" Harry exclaimed. "If I could tell you everything about this summer, you'd—"

Ron cut him off and spoke very quietly. "But what if it was just an act for you? Perhaps Dumbledore persuaded him…" Harry was now studying his shoes. Ron had a point. All things considered, he might be right.

xxxxx

For the remainder of the train ride, the four remained fairly quiet. When they were getting near Hogwarts, the girls excused themselves to go and change into their school uniforms. The boys changed in the compartment. In no time at all, Harry could hear the squeal of the breaks as the train slowed to a stop.

Harry swallowed hard, nervous to face the inevitable humiliation. He should be used to it now; he was always ridiculed for something— even in primary school.

Ron reached out and squeezed his shoulder. That gave him a bit of confidence. He knew no matter what he would still have his friends.

Making his way out to the carriages proved to be a difficult task because with his small size he was constantly being pushed aside.

Then, one of the fourth-year Hufflepuffs tried to stop him. "First years are supposed to go that way," the freckle-faced girl said.

Harry gave her one of the deadliest glares he could possibly muster, but even then he couldn't dissuade the girl.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, pushing his way past the Hufflepuff.

For the entire carriage ride, Harry held his head in his hands. He was barely aware of his surroundings when he made his way up to the castle and then into the great hall.

He heard someone, somewhere say, "Is that a first year?"

And then someone else replied, "Maybe he's lost. You go tell him he needs to be with the others. To be sorted."

Thankfully, neither student came up to talk to him. Perhaps that was because he now had Ron and Hermione flanking him, fixing their own glares at anyone who dared come talk to Harry. But more likely people were beginning to realize that the young first year must not be a first year at all. Rather, he was the none other than Harry Potter— the Boy Who Lived… deaged somehow. Since when was the golden trio apart?

Silence enveloped the great hall. Harry didn't pay attention to the sorting at all. And neither did most of the Gryffindors around him. Neville, Seamus, Dean, Collin… the list goes on. They all followed the same basic pattern. Spotted the small boy, glanced at him curiously. Eyes settled on the scar and realization would set in. Then they would mouth words, like "Harry?" or "What happened?"

After the first years were seated at their tables, Dumbledore rose to give his start of term notices. As usual the Forbidden Forest was off limits and Filch's list of contraband was expanded (mostly to add half the stock of Weasleys' Wizard Weezes).

And then came the inevitable. The announcement… Harry was studying Remedial Potions with Professor Snape. Words of pity could be heard from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Meanwhile, a couple of sniggers escaped from the Slytherin table.

Dumbledore continued, ignoring the crowd. There was an accident… Harry deaged. And then Harry could hear the shuffling of countless students readjusting in their seats, all to get a better look. Without thinking, Harry found himself sinking into the bench. If only he could slip under the table.

The headmaster muttered some more nonsensical words and then food appeared in front of them. At first, the great hall was fairly normal. Students' voices all mingled together as they chatted and filled their plates.

Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. Slowly, Harry moved his hands away from his face and dared to look around. Well, people were still glancing at him. Some stared… but that wasn't too unusual. I can live with that.

He filled his plate with some food and started to eat.

Neville was the first who dared to speak; "I've been getting tutoring for potions too Harry. I didn't get a good enough grade on my OWLs to continue in Potions, but I need it for Herbology. So Professor Snape said he would give me a second practical test and my Gran paid for a private tutor. I take the test tomorrow evening."

"Are you nervous?" Harry asked.

"Well, yes and no," Neville replied. "Well, I've studied really hard, and I think I know the material b-but professor Snape will be there and… He… he always makes me nervous— as I'm sure you're aware of." Yeah he was aware of it; Neville's boggart turned into Snape after all.

"Rotten luck you have Harry," Seamus spoke up next. "I mean, who picked Snape for your tutor? If I had been stuck with him over the summer…" Seamus faked an involuntary shiver and returned to eating.

"Well, it wasn't too bad," Harry said. His comments were met with many dumfounded Gryffindors. Neville had dropped his spoon. Harry carefully added, "I mean, at times he could be civil… it could have been worse."

"What's worse than being deaged?" Dean asked.

Harry blushed; if Dean only knew the extent of the deaging. "I suppose," Harry replied.

"So, how long with it last?" Neville asked. "Is there an antidote?"

"There is an antidote," Harry explained, "but it will take time to get all the ingredients. There's this plant that's really rare and Snape ran out of it. And apparently he can't buy anymore either. He said he's going to grow some. So it may take awhile."

"Oh," Neville said.

"Like I said," spoke up Seamus, "you have rotten luck."

Harry nodded in agreement.

Ron changed the subject by mentioning his "daring encounter with death eaters." Ginny countered his statements, but Ron's account was more exciting. After awhile Ginny found herself completely ignored, while the others hung on Ron's every word.

"Hermione, what happened to your jaw?" Harry heard Luna ask.

"Malfoy," was all she replied.

"We'll get him back," Ron vowed, coming out of his anecdote.

"Yeah, we will," Harry confirmed.

As if on cue, four notes popped into the air before Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione.

Harry's read, "Detention. Report to my classroom at 8pm, Monday-Saturday. – Professor Snape."

"Ugh! I've got detention with Filtch!" Ron exclaimed. "All week. Even Saturday."

"Me too," added Hermione quietly. Detention for the full first week of the term didn't appear to sit well with her.

For a fleeting moment, Harry felt a bit excited. He had detention with Snape after all. Perhaps the man wanted to get him on his own. To explain things.

But that moment passed when Ginny said, "Well, I have detention with Snape."

"So do I," Harry said, the disappointment evident in his voice. It was misinterpreted, however, as the other Gryffindors all spoke of injustice and a greasy Potions Master.

"A weeks worth of detention the very first week of the term!" Seamus exclaimed. "You know, you guys, you all really do have rotten luck."