Alec had three bruised ribs from Crabbe kicking him, which Madame Pomfrey promptly healed. She gave him some salve to rub on his chest and ordered him to avoid any strenuous activity for a day or two, which made the younger boy grimace. That provoked a stern lecture from the medi-witch and Alec composed his features into a remorseful, wide-eyed ‘puppy dog' stare, though when Madame Pomfrey had turned away he rolled his eyes at Harry.

"I'm perfectly fine now, really," he muttered.

Harry had had plenty of experience with Madame Pomfrey's overprotectiveness. He had also had experience with her acute sense of hearing though, so he only gave Alec a sympathetic grin.

"And I intend for you stay that way," the medi-witch retorted. "I will drop a word to Professor Snape to make sure he knows that you're to take things easy for a couple of days."

"But we have Quidditch practice tonight," Alec protested.

"I'm sure your team can manage without you for one evening," Madame Pomfrey said.

As Alec's face fell, she shook her head slightly. "It's hardly the end of the world, Mr. Morland. Students do miss Quidditch practice from time to time, you know, for illness or detention or some other reason. And you'll be back in top form for Saturday's game."

The first Quidditch game of the season was on Saturday, and as luck would have it, it happened to be between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Alec shot a grin at Harry. "Well, that's good. I'd hate to miss my chance to beat Harry."

"Beat me? Are you kidding?" Harry grinned back at him.

"I see no reason to confine you to the infirmary so you're free to leave when you wish," Madame Pomfrey interrupted their bantering.

Alec had been sitting on a cot while Harry perched on a nearby chair. They climbed to their feet, Alec looking very relieved, but before they had taken a step, green flames shot high in the infirmary's fireplace and Dumbledore stepped into the room.

"Mr. Morland, how are you?" the headmaster inquired, his eyes studying the boy with a kind, intense gaze.

Alec nodded. "I'm fine, sir."

"Very good. I'm most happy to hear that." Dumbledore turned to Harry. "And thank you for watching out for him, Harry."

"You're welcome, sir."

"It appears that Madame Pomfrey has released you?" Dumbledore questioned, shooting a glance at the medi-witch.

She nodded. "Yes, he's well enough. He just needs to take things easy for a couple of days."

"Excellent, but before you leave, I need to speak with you...both of you. I've spoken with the other boys, but I need to hear your versions of what happened as well," Dumbledore said.

"Well, my friends and I were going back to our dorm after Charms, but then I realized that I had left a book in the classroom so I went back for it," Alec explained. "I was alone in the fourth-floor corridor when Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle came up on me. Malfoy kind of shoved me and said something about me taking his Quidditch spot away from him. He said I should watch out, but then he started to walk on. Then Crabbe pushed me down and kicked me in the ribs."

He looked over at Harry with shining eyes. "And then Harry came running up and saved me."

The hero-worship in Alec's eyes made Harry uncomfortable and he tried to shrug it off. "It was no big deal."

"It was a big deal to me," Alec protested.

Dumbledore just smiled at Harry. "It was a valiant act, Harry. There's no need to deny it. But can you tell me the details?"

So Harry described how he had come to Alec's aid and finished with, "And then you were there, sir, so you know the rest of it."

Dumbledore looked at them closely. "I do have one more question, a rather important one. Mr. Malfoy claims that he never intended for Mr. Morland to come to any harm and that he stopped Mr. Crabbe once he realized that his friend had actually made a physical attack. Is this true?"

Harry and Alec were both quiet for a moment. Harry tried to recall if he had heard Draco say anything, but truthfully, all he could remember clearly was his fury and his determination to keep the older Slytherin boys from hurting anyone else.

He shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

But Alec spoke up, his forehead creased in thought. "I think maybe I remember him saying something to Crabbe, about how they shouldn't hurt me cause we were all Slytherins."

The headmaster nodded. "Thank you very much, both of you. If you are sure that you're quite all right, Mr. Morland, I shall be heading back to my office to discuss appropriate punishments with your Housemates."

Dumbledore turned to leave, but then paused. "Oh, and Harry, if you see Professor Snape, you could tell him that there's no need to come up to my office later. I have to attend a dinner with the school's governors this evening."

After Dumbledore had gone, Alec looked at Harry anxiously. "I hope this won't make things worse. If they blame me for getting them into trouble, they'll really be after me then."

"I think you should tell your prefects what happened," Harry told him. "You can tell them you need to speak with them in private if you don't want anyone else to know, but it's their job to watch out for you younger kids and to make sure everything runs smoothly within their House. And tell your friends, too, so they'll know to stick close to you for a while, til it all dies down."

"I will." Alec seemed reassured. Nonetheless, Harry decided that he would also let Severus know about the incident so his father could help keep an eye on the situation. He had no doubt that his father could keep Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in line.

As they were leaving the infirmary, Alec added gratefully, "Thanks a lot, Harry, really. I can never pay you back for everything you've done for me."

Harry just shook his head. "You're welcome, Alec. But you don't owe me anything. Anyone would have helped."

Alec shook his head, too, completely serious. "No, lots of people would have just gone on their way and not gotten involved. I know cause I used to be like that. I was scared to stand up to people, even if I wanted to. Or else I thought ‘it's none of my business' or ‘I'm just a kid so I can't do anything about it'. But I'm not going to be like that anymore so if you ever need help, you can count on me."

Then, as if he were embarrassed, Alec gave him a quick wave and hurried off down the corridor.

Well, it looks like I have one Slytherin friend. Harry mused as he made his way towards the library. Then he thought of Severus and smiled. Make that two Slytherin friends.

***

Harry told Severus about the incident as they ate dinner in their quarters that evening, but as it turned out, his father already knew.

"Yes, both Albus and Poppy have informed me of the trouble. Poppy wanted me to be certain that Alec Morland did not overexert himself and Albus was letting me know that he had assigned Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle detention every Friday evening for the rest of the term. Also, that he had taken thirty points from Slytherin. Incidentally, he awarded Gryffindor ten points on your behalf."

Severus' tone was dry and Harry studied him, feeling a little concerned and unhappy.

"Are you angry?"

"With those three idiots in my House? Absolutely. I'm furious with them," Severus responded. His gaze softened as he looked his son. "However, I am very proud and pleased with you."

Harry smiled at him. "Even if Gryffindor is ahead in points now?"

"Only until the Quidditch match," Severus answered loftily. "I promised my team fifty points if they won. I'm certain with the extra motivation we're assured of victory."

"You wish," Harry retorted. But then he bit his lip and and looked at his father a little anxiously. "Will you be upset, if Gryffindor wins, I mean?"

Severus reached to hold Harry's fingers in his hand, lightly squeezing them. "You are my son, Harry. You are infinitely more important to me than House rivalries or Quidditch games. If you win, I will be happy for your sake."

A warm contented feeling blossomed in Harry's chest. "I love you, Severus."

Severus' dark eyes glimmered. "I love you, too."

***

Unfortunately the rest of the week went downhill after that evening. Heavy grey storm clouds rolled across the sky, obliterating the sunlight, and the next few days were chilly and damp. Rain fell intermittently and even when it wasn't raining, a thick fog covered the ground.

Quidditch practice was miserable and it was all but impossible to see the snitch. Everyone played badly and Harry, along with the rest of the team, was frustrated and discouraged by the time Katie finally called it quits.

He woke up the next morning with a stuffy head and a sore throat and even a fresh batch of Severus' Pepper-Up Potion didn't help much. Harry sniffled and sneezed his way through his classes and as soon as they were over he told his friends that he was going back home to rest.

He lay down on the sofa with a blanket, intending to only take a short nap and then work some more on his defense essay, but it seemed that he'd only just closed his eyes when the next thing he knew Severus was shaking his shoulder and calling his name.

"Harry? It's time for dinner."

Harry blearily opened his eyes to see his father bending over the sofa, looking concerned. He must have slept for a couple of hours if it was already dinner time. But he wasn't the least bit hungry. In fact, he felt worse than he had earlier and it was awfully cold, too. Harry shivered and buried down under the blanket.

"I'm not hungry," he rasped, feeling as if his throat were on fire. The words were barely out of his mouth when a coughing fit overtook him. For several long moments Harry was racked by dry harsh coughs. When they finally subsided, he lay back against the arm of sofa feeling exhausted, despite the nap.

Severus' face was still, but he couldn't hide the alarm in his eyes. "I'm calling Poppy."

She came through the fireplace a moment later and headed straight to Harry, with Severus at her heels.

"So you're not feeling well, Harry dear?" She inquired.

"I'm all right," Harry tried to say, but he was interrupted by another coughing fit.

"That's a nasty cough," Madame Pomfrey commented, waving her wand in a series of diagnostic spells. "How long have you had it?"

"It just started," Harry said wearily. "But I woke up with a cold."

"Have you taken any Pepper-Up?" Madame Pomfrey looked from Harry to Severus.

"This morning at breakfast," Severus answered while Harry whispered, "Yes, but it didn't help any."

"Well, let's try another dose now and then again in four hours. Right now you just have a particularly bad cold, but we do want to be careful that it doesn't develop into anything worse. You probably don't have much appetite, but if you could eat a little soup, that would be good for you. And drink plenty of juice."

Madame Pomfrey turned to Severus. "You'll need to keep an eye on him, Severus. It wouldn't hurt to add a mild sleeping sedative to the last dose of Pepper-Up. As long as Harry's fever doesn't shoot up and he doesn't grow sicker, then I'd let him sleep through the night and resume dosing with Pepper-Up in the morning. But if he gets any worse at all, call me at once."

Severus nodded solemnly. "I will."

He followed Madame Pomfrey across the room to the fireplace and asked in a low voice, "This is my fault, isn't it, Poppy? His lungs are weakened from breathing in those poisonous fumes last summer?"

Poppy patted his arm. "Not necessarily, Severus. I've treated several Quidditch players for colds this week, and some non-Quidditch playing students too. It's just the time of year. People will catch colds sometimes, especially in weather like this."

"I wasn't careful enough," Severus muttered in self-recrimination. "I shouldn't have let him go to Quidditch practice last night. I've known that he could be prone to illness and I haven't been careful enough."

"Severus, you are not to blame yourself," Poppy said, her voice low but firm. "You take excellent care of Harry. It's just a cold. He'll be fine in a few days. Just keep watch."

When she had gone, Severus came over to the sofa and conjured a pillow for Harry to sit up against. He summoned the Pepper-Up potion and after Harry had taken it, he asked, "Can you try to eat a little soup?"

Harry really didn't want it, but Madame Pomfrey had said it would be good for him and he did want to get well as quickly as possible. His first Quidditch game was only two days away. So he nodded, "All right."

He made himself eat the bowl of chicken noodle soup that Severus ordered for him and drank a glass of pumpkin juice as well. Then he lay back on the pillow, huddled under the blanket, and dozed off again.

Some time later he woke up enough to take another dose of medicine and to protest when Severus tried to pick him up and carry him to his bedroom.

"I can walk, Severus. I'm not a baby."

"Of course," Severus agreed, though Harry thought he seemed a little anxious.

Harry changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed. A few minutes later his father stepped into the doorway.

"Would it insult your maturity if I came in to say good night, o' wise and ancient sage of sixteen?"

Severus' tone was light, but Harry could hear the love and concern underneath. Although he still felt pretty bad...his throat was still sore and his head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton, he made himself smile for his father's sake. "Come on in."

Severus took his wand and ran through his own diagnostic spell. "Well, your fever's gone at least." He tucked the blankets around Harry's shoulders and stroked his fingers through his hair. "Call me if you feel worse or if you need anything. And I mean that, Harry."

Harry nodded. "All right. I will."

Severus dropped a kiss onto Harry's forehead. "Good night then."

But Harry slept fairly well through the night. He came partially awake a couple of times, vaguely aware of coughing and of his father's presence in his room. Severus rested his hand against Harry's forehead, re-tucked blankets about him, and murmured soft words that Harry was too sleepy to catch. But each time Harry drifted off again within minutes and when he woke in the morning he felt much better.

For a moment he just lay still, enjoying feeling clear-headed and well again. Then he glanced at the clock on his night table and abruptly leaped to his feet and dashed to his bathroom to throw on his clothes. It was well past the time he usually woke and his first class was almost over.

"Harry, are you all right?" Severus knocked on the closed door.

"Yeah, I'm lots better, but I've missed Defense. I'll be lucky to make Charms on time," Harry replied. "Why didn't you wake me up?" He paused. "And aren't you supposed to be in class too?"

"No, because I canceled my classes to stay with you," Severus told him. "And I contacted your friends and told them that you were ill, to tell your professors that you wouldn't be in class today."

Harry opened the door and came out, half-dressed in his school trousers but still wearing his pyjama shirt. "But I'm fine now. I feel a lot better, really."

Severus ran through a spell and nodded, unable to hide his relief. "Yes, you do seem to be well on the path to recovery, thank goodness. But I don't think it would do you any harm to stay home and rest today."

Harry started to protest again and Severus arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you really so opposed to having a day off?"

Harry considered and then smiled a little. "I guess not. All right, I'll take it easy today."

Severus' lips quirked upwards and he reached over to card his fingers through his son's hair. "I am glad you're feeling better," he said softly before leaving.

Harry decided to dress in casual clothes instead of his school uniform so he changed into jeans and a warm dark green jumper with a high neck. He put on socks, but then pulled on his bedroom slippers rather than real shoes, as he was just going to be at home today. Then he went out to the parlour to join his father.

They ate porridge and toast. Though he felt better, Harry discovered that he still wasn't very hungry, but he made himself eat to keep up his strength, and then he and Severus spent a pleasant day together, reading and playing chess. It reminded Harry of their summer at Prince Hall, when so often it had been just the two of them. Well, the last part of the summer anyway, once they'd grown comfortable around one another.

Harry was thinking about those memories, and thinking that although he was very happy at Hogwarts and enjoyed being with all his friends too, that he did miss having Severus to himself and just the two of them spending time together when his father looked over at him and asked, "Is something wrong? You've been staring into space for over five minutes."

Harry looked at him and smiled. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking that I missed this, you know, just us spending time together like we did at Prince Hall."

"I miss it, too," Severus agreed. "We are both quite busy here, aren't we? Perhaps we could make an effort to spend a bit more time together?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Harry said softly.

The day passed quickly. Severus made sure Harry kept taking his potions, despite Harry's protests that he was better, and they had more soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Harry dozed for a while afterwards...he wondered if Severus had added another sleeping sedative to the Pepper-Up...and late in the afternoon Ron and Hermione came by to bring Harry his assignments and the notes that Hermione had copied for him. Severus greeted them politely and then went off to his office, leaving Harry alone with his friends.

"So you're feeling better?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Yep, right as rain now."

Ron pulled a face. "Don't mention rain. It's still pouring and it's supposed to rain all weekend too. Quidditch should be fun tomorrow."

He looked suddenly anxious. "Hey, are you going to be able to play tomorrow?"

"Sure," Harry said. "I'm fine now."

Hermione studied him. "Are you sure, Harry? Severus said you had a very bad cold. You might not need to be out in the rain."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Hermione. Don't fuss."

"Yeah, Harry can't miss our first game, especially against Slytherin. We need him," Ron put in. He glanced over at his friend. "So long as you really are well."

"Yes, I'm all better now," Harry exclaimed in exasperation. "And of course I'm not going to miss our first game."

"Good, cause I've heard that Slytherin's looking tough. That Moreland kid isn't half bad, and Warrington, Vaisey, and Brown are good, too," Ron told him.

He and Ron talked Quidditch for a little while longer while Hermione just watched Harry with a worried frown, which Harry ignored. But Ron and Hermione didn't stay very long. They had a lot of homework and even Ron reluctantly said they needed to get started on it since they probably wouldn't get much done the next day.

After they'd gone Harry got started on his assignments too. Ron was right. There was the Quidditch match tomorrow, and then there was sure to be a party afterwards, win or lose. The Gryffindors never needed much of an excuse to throw a party. Of course it would be more fun if it were a victory party though.

Harry thought that Gryffindor had a good chance. They were a good team; they'd practiced hard; and thanks to the Wronski book that Severus had given him, Harry had picked up some amazing new techniques. And even if they didn't win, it still ought to be an exciting game. He could hardly wait.

But when he mentioned the match at dinner that evening, his father gave him a long look and then said quietly, "Harry, I don't think you need to play in tomorrow's match."

Harry stared at him. "What?"

Severus sighed. "You are better, but you are still recovering and the weather is still quite bad. I'm afraid you would relapse and become even sicker if you were outside for any length of time tomorrow."

"But I'm not sick anymore! I'm fine now!" Harry protested.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't want you to play tomorrow." Severus' eyes were sorrowful, but his voice was firm.

"And I have to obey you because I'm a slave," Harry said bitterly.

A hurt expression flickered across Severus' face. "I expect you to obey me because I'm your father and I have your best interests in mind. The slavery spell has nothing to do with that."

"Yeah, right. You just want to be sure Slytherin wins. You said you would let me play for Gryffindor, even against Slytherin. But you didn't mean any of it. Slytherin means more to you than I ever will!" Harry wasn't sure why those hateful words spewed out. Even as he said them, he knew they weren't really true, but he was just so angry and upset that he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Severus' eyes flashed. He took a deep breath and said evenly. "I think you know that none of that is true. I know you're disappointed and upset and I am sorry about that. But you've been ill and I don't want to risk your health."

"It's all your fault," Harry glared at him. "If I hadn't breathed in those fumes I wouldn't have gotten sick."

Severus just stared at him in stricken silence. All of a sudden Harry couldn't bear the jumble of guilt and anger and bitter disappointment that swelled in his chest.

He leaped up from the table and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.