The next morning found Harry staring morosely into his cereal bowl. After Snape’s stern warning last night he found that he still wasn’t particularly hungry. An image of him flipped over Snape’s bony knee flittered unwelcomingly into his mind. He shook his head to free himself of terrible imaginings and turned back to his pumpkin juice.  

Harry wasn’t quite sure why the magical world was so enamoured by the orange drink. Why would anyone drink a vegetable willingly? Did the staff believe the students did not consume nearly enough vegetables at dinner? Surely wizards did not drank pumpkin juice for the same reason Aunt Petunia drank a full glass of carrot juice.   

It was still early, so Hermione was busy studying, (Defence Against the Dark Arts) and Ron was still presumably snoring in bed. The red head wasn’t much conversation in the mornings anyway.   

An idea flittered into Harry’s mind. If he could change his body just by thinking it, perhaps he could have a nice bubbly lemonade with breakfast if he tried hard enough.   

It took a long time of staring but eventually Harry was certain the orangey colour of the pumpkin juice became a little lighter. Glancing up Harry checked to make sure Hermione’s nose was still glued sickeningly close to the page to her book and tried again.  

Eventually the liquid in his goblet changed from a bright orange to a bubbly looking clear colour. Harry tasted, then shrugged his shoulders and downed the lot. He poured another cup and tried the process again. He was on his fifth cup when Hermione deigned to speak with him.  

“Giving your kidney a thorough clean out, Harry? That is your fifth cup.” Hermione questioned flicking to the next page. “Water would be much better to flush out your system.”  

“Just thirsty,” Harry replied a little curtly, pouring himself another cup to again. With each attempt his lemonade from pumpkin juice was getting better.  

Twenty minutes later Hermione dragged a reluctant Harry to transfiguration. Harry found a seat and pulled out his equipment while Hermione went to the front and started interrogating Professor McGonagall about something that no doubt didn’t happen to third year transfiguration.   

He watched his studious friend’s conversation and barely registered Ron’s hurried arrival.   “You didn’t wake me,” Ron snapped irritably.  

“When I woke you yesterday you chewed me up,” Harry returned back evenly.  

“Yeah, well – it was early.”  

“I wasn’t going to leave breakfast just to get you out of bed. Either you want me to give you a wakeup call or you don’t.”  

Ron snorted and turned towards the front as other students quickly filed in before they could be late for the Gryffindor House Mistress. It never paid to be on McGonagall’s bad side.  

“Mr. Weasley please ensure you brush your mop before presenting yourself in my class and for goodness sake tuck in your shirt and straighten your tie while you are at it. You look like a slob.”  

Ron melted into his chair as Malfoy and his cronies sniggered. Harry patted his shoulder in an act of sympathy. 

 “Shredded you arrogant Gryffindor dolt!” Snape snarled looking at Hermione’s potion ingredients. Harry twisted his neck around quickly to see what the problem was. It seemed Hermione was not concentrating to her normal meticulous standard and of course that meant Snape was on her case. “If you please Miss Granger refrain from reading Lockhart’s trash in my class and con-cen –trate!” Snape all but bellowed.  

Harry fisted his fingers under his work bench, willing himself not to jump to his friend’s rescue. Hermione was the sort of girl who did not like being rescued too often and Snape had made in abundantly clear he was not going to take any misbehaviour on his part this year. Not defending Hermione was rather difficult as his friend glanced up Harry saw the unmistakable signs of tears in her glassy chocolate brown eyes.  

Unfortunately Ron had not problem defending Hermione. “Shut it you over grown egoistical bat.”  

“Egoistical, Mr. Weasley?” Snape repeated slowly dark humour showing in his obsidian eyes. Harry could have sworn that Snape’s lips twitched just a little bit. Snape turned to Harry. “Does Miss Granger give you vocabulary lessons that you and Mr. Weasley so dearly need, Mr Potter?”  

“No sir,” Harry answered evenly. “She does not.”  

“Nothing to say to me, Mr. Potter?” Snape continued sweeping away from Hermione’s and Ron’s work bench so that he was now standing in front of Harry.  

“No sir,” Harry answered almost cringing. He could feel the heated gaze of the other Gryffindor’s on his back as he answered.  

Snape leaned forward so that he could whisper in Harry’s ear. “Good boy, you have seemed to have obtained some respect for authority and some self control. Perhaps I should have threatened to discipline you earlier. Hmm?”  

Snape suddenly stood up and stalked to the front of his classroom. “Dentention Weasley for you abysmal lack of judgement and Miss Granger for your disgraceful lack of concentration...”  

Harry glanced behind him to look at the disappointed looks of his friends as Snape continued his lecture. At the daggers shot his way by Ron’s accusatory eyes Harry turned back to the front and pretended to concentrate. It was worthless.  

As the class continued on with the practical side of potion making Harry robotically followed Draco’s steps, as the blonde Slytherin was sitting directly opposite. He didn’t notice the potion master securitising him closely.    

“Longbottom that looks like pig swill... quickly add...”   

Snape’s voice cut through Harry’s concentration. Without thinking Harry wished Snape would just be silent and leave his students alone. There was a moment’s pause were everything seemed unnaturally still then Malfoy’s horrified voice screaming, “Everyone down!”   

Stunned Harry half turned around just as Neville’s potion exploded. There was a sizzling hiss and something gooey and very hot landed on Harry’s cheek.   

For the first five seconds Harry didn’t feel anything and then there was agony around and just under his eye and cheek. Harry clawed at his skin and bit down on his tongue to stop his startled cries of pain.   

Moments later Snape’s elegant potion stained fingers were batting Harry’s hands away from his face. Harry briefly wondered why Snape wasn’t yelling at the class or him for that matter, when he realised he had actually silenced Snape and hence caused the accident.  

Snape glared around at the class sternly and then down at Harry, before picking up the slim Gryffindor under his arm and marching into the adjoining room. The class could only watch helpless as Snape exited into the lab where only his top NEWT potion students worked, with a hapless Harry.  

“I’m getting the headmaster,” Blaise Zabini decided firmly after no one made a move.  

A silent Snape set Harry on his feet by a large basin and bent the boy over the rim. Snape’s pale fingers clamped firmly but gently around the base of Harry’s neck as the Potions Master held the younger wizard and turned the cool water on with his free hand. Harry shook his head and tried to free himself from Snape’s grip but Snape held him in place.   

Harry wished that Snape would say something – anything. Barely registering what he was doing, Harry released Snape’s voice. “Calm boy, don’t fight me. The cool water is best for the pain,” Snape said in a very gruff voice as if it was rough from disuse. Harry thought that Snape sounded surprised to be suddenly hearing his voice again.  

Pale fingers brushed across Harry’s searing cheeks and palmed water into his eyes. Gasping Harry shook his head as if beseeching Snape to let him go. Nevertheless he was held firm.  

“My fault,” Harry mumbled to himself. His body seemed numbed to the effect of what silencing Professor Snape had actually meant.   

“Don’t be daft boy,” Snape snarled still holding Harry over the basin rim.   

“May I inquire as to why you are holding Harry over the basin so forcefully?”  Harry nearly jumped out of his skin to hear the Headmaster so close.

Snape on the other hand didn’t seem at all surprised by the intrusion.  “Sometimes all a pain riddled Gryffindor cub needs to leave his wounds to someone else,” Snape replied evenly. He abruptly turned and took Harry under his armpits and sat him neatly onto a steel potions bench. Harry sat their dumbly blinking. Had Snape picked him up as if he weighed very little?  

Snape hummed, tilted Harry’s chin to glanced under the boy’s right eye. He prodded gently with one elongated finger then grimaced;  all the while completely ignoring the Headmaster who was waiting patiently.   

“A simple burn salve should be sufficient,” Snape said aloud as he buried his long croaked nose into a cabinet.   

“Are you certain Severus?” the Headmaster put in. “It looks like a nasty burn.”  

“Quite sure,” Snape snapped managing to sound professional at the same time. Harry wasn’t quite sure how Snape managed it.  He swung his feet patiently and pointedly ignored the Headmaster.   

“There will be an investigation,” the Headmaster said almost too softly. Snape paused momentarily before returning to rummage through his potion supplies. “I admit I’m surprised that you slipped in your usual adequate supervision during class time, Severus.”

Harry thought the Headmaster seemed a little disappointed and felt a shock of sympathy for Snape.  “It wasn’t his fault!” Harry cried out before he could contain his impulsivity.  

“I can defend myself, Mr. Potter,” Snape said softly turning to stare intently at the Headmaster. “There have been accidents before – so why does this accident warrant such attention?”  

The Headmaster pointedly glanced in Harry’s direction.  

“Oh, I see,” Snape said in a horribly dead panned voice.  

“I didn’t duck in time,” Harry muttered mutinously in Professor Dumbledore’s direction. “Professor Snape was already at Neville’s cauldron.”  

Snape returned with the burn salve and shoved in into Harry’s hands with a curt command, “Leave and let the adults talk.”  

Harry didn’t hesitate he tucked the burn salve into his robes and slipped from the work bench. A moment later he slipped in between Dumbledore and Snape who both looked like they were locked in a physiological duel.  

The class had obviously been dismissed and Harry quickly stooped before where he had been working and picked up his book bag and slung it over his shoulder. As he trudged up the stairs towards the Great Hall Harry decided to stop off in the boys toilets – he didn’t fancy showing if face at the Gryffindor table without knowing what he looked like.  

He slipped into the first toilets and relieved to find himself alone he stowed his book bag away. As he had guessed he didn’t look too good. Slipping his glasses off his nose and into his pockets, Harry touched his cheek and surrounding skin softly. It was red and blistered.  

Very carefully Harry unscrewed the lid and applied the salve gently. Snape’s mixture immediately sank blissfully into Harry’s skin and the remaining pain instantly vanished. Harry watched as raw red skin slowly and meticulously turned pink then to healthy white.  

Harry stashed the burn salve away into his robes. He’ll have to remember to hand it back to Professor Snape and thank the man personally, much that he loathed to do so.

Just because he was in the bathroom Harry turned on the tap to see if he could turn the water to coca-cola... to his surprise the water almost instantly turned the familiar dark colour. Harry stuck his finger in grimacing to find it was warm and flat.  

Harry turned his uniform bright orange, pink and violet before turning the emblem into the Hufflepuff yellow and black.   

He turned off the tap and closed his eyes. ‘I wish I just could be normal.’  

When he opened his eyes Harry saw his real face in the mirror and three shocked Slytherin’s faces staring back at him.