The boy was still sitting in the lounge in his office, staring at the wall. Severus sighed. Often over the years he had handled cases such as this one, but never to this extreme. He had no idea if the boy trusted him enough, or even at all. It was obvious he had trust issues, would he ever open up enough about what had happened to him to be able to heal?

“Harry,” he said gently, startling the boy from his reverie.

After a few seconds Harry turned, carefully arranging his features into a blank mask.

“May I go now?” he asked, just as carefully.

“I would like to discuss what you told me last night, Harry,”

The continued use of his first name was meant to lull the boy into a sense of familiarity and security, but he wasn’t buying it. Harry shook his head slowly.

“No sir, I’d really rather not,” he replied, quietly, but firmly.

“It won’t go away if you don’t face it, you know,” Severus replied.

“It won’t go away anyway. It never has before, no matter how I’ve handled it,” Harry stood, as if carrying a great weight on his shoulders. His chest felt tight and a lump filled his throat.

“Thank you for understanding sir,”

He fled the room before Professor Snape could reply.

He attempted to seek out the boy many times over the next few days, unsuccessfully. He was always with friends, talking and laughing as much as any other student. He and Draco seemed to be getting along like a house on fire, spurned on no doubt by Draco’s father. Lucius Malfoy would be grinning all over his perfect face at the thought of his son being friends with the boy who stopped the Dark lord. After the fuss died down about Harry being in Slytherin, and his new found loss of fame, the students from other houses largely ignored him- except Ronald Weasley. Fuelled by a sense of failure, his attacks on Harry became so obvious that even other teachers, including the head of Gryffindor, were docking points and awarding detentions at a rate unseen at Hogwarts since the Marauder days. The loss of points soon stopped however, after an interview with the Headmaster, from which Weasley left looking subdued and made a beeline for Neville Longbottom. They had made a threesome with Hermione Granger, who had been friends with Neville before his rise to fame. The three were often seen ducking down to Hagrid’s and other such Gryffindor past times. Thankfully, the only class that Slytherin and Gryffindor shared was potions, at least until flying practice began in the coming weeks. Severus knew most of his new Slytherins were decent fliers, most having come from all magic families. Except Harry. To see whether the boy flew like his father (James, Severus could admit, was one of the best fliers he had ever seen, unlike himself, who had to practice hard to even fly at all) was one thing he could not wait to see. But what would Ronald Weasley do with such an opportunity?

Just in case, Severus hovered near a first floor window all morning, one which overlooked the quidditch pitch. He watched as brooms jumped straight into Draco’s and Harry’s hands. They smirked at each other (although Severus couldn’t see that, he could easily imagine their expressions) while Ron’s broom rolled over on the ground trying to get away. Severus winced as Longbottom flew up the side of the building only to fall and hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

‘Probably showing off anyway,’ Severus thought snidely.

As soon as Madam Hooch had taken the boy away, undoubtedly for medical treatment, Weasley struck. He grabbed Harry’s glasses and flew high into the air, Harry in hot pursuit. His instinct on the broom was incredible, and even flying blind, as it were, his control was perfect. He couldn’t believe his own eyes after Harry caught his own glasses, despite not being able to see them, a foot from the ground.

“Harry Potter!”

Harry’s heart sank faster than he had just dived. He heard Draco land beside him and realised with a start that he had flown into the air to help. He dared a swift smile at his Slytherin comrade before a dark figure loomed in front of them, looking like the stuff of nightmares. Harry put on his glasses and his heart sank further when he realised who it was standing in front of them. Every time he broke a rule Professor Snape seemed to be there!

“Never, in all my time at Hogwarts- how dare you, you might have broken your neck-”

“It wasn’t his fault Professor-”

“Be quiet Miss Parkinson-”

“But Weasley-!”

“That’s enough, Mr Malfoy. Potter follow me now,”

Harry caught sight of Ron’s and a few other Gryffindor faces as he was led away, as well as the disapproving face of Hermione. The girl cared more about rules than herself; clearly she had serious problems. But then so did he; he was going back to the Dursleys, back to his cupboard, back to his pain. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up back on their doorstep? They might even be happy to see him as long as their fun at his humiliation lasted. Meanwhile, Snape was dragging him through corridors and past classrooms until they were out the front of the charms classroom.

“Excuse me Professor Flitwick; I’d like to borrow Flint for a moment,”

‘Flint?’ Harry thought wildly ‘What kind of punishment is that?’

But Flint turned out to be a person, a large Slytherin with a heavy set jaw and permanent frown.

“Harry this is Marcus Flint. Harry is going to be Slytherin’s new seeker,”

Flint’s expression turned from a lemon sour to a slightly less sour flavour.

“Potter? He’s as good as his father then? I have studied all the great Hogwarts players sir!” If Flint could sound excited, Harry would bet that was what he was hearing now, despite the other boy’s expression.

“If only you had studied moonstones as closely, or indeed any of the other subjects you’re failing,” Severus replied dryly to cover his dismay at the reference to Harry’s father.

“I’ll personally see to getting him a decent broom, Flint. You see that you explain the rules well and get him practicing. We flattened Gryffindor last year. Minerva McGonagall couldn’t look me in the face for weeks after that match. Oh and Potter, so the others don’t think I’ve gone soft, detention, um, soon,”

As Flint went back into the classroom, and Harry was wondering over the use of the word ‘Um’ Severus began talking.

“Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself,” somehow he managed to keep his voice and face neutral, although it was not easy.

Harry didn’t reply and kept his eyes trained on the ground. Severus wondered what it would take to get through to him.

“Wow,” said Draco enviously when Harry explained what happened after Snape pulled him out of class. “We’ve got to keep this quiet. I can’t wait to see Weasley’s face, and I want to tell him at exactly the right moment!”

Harry laughed along with Draco, as an owl winged its way to the Slytherin table. Odd, mail wasn’t usually this late. It dropped a letter in front of Harry, and flew away.

“Kindly attend a meeting in my office immediately after dinner. The password is fizzing whizzbees

Dumbledore”