Harry turned around in the dimly lit corridor and his insides froze. Draco was back, and this time he had older Slytherins with him, at least third years judging by their size.

He wasn't sure if this was a dream or not, because he'd been having dreams off and on about Draco beating him up for the last week. In fact, this whole day seemed to be a dream, what with flying lessons going as they had, ending up with him in pursuit of Draco high up in the air, catching Neville's Remembrall, and getting dragged into the castle by McGonagall only to get put on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Feeling suddenly defiant, knowing that he was cornered and was going to get beaten up anyway, Harry said one of the few words he knew he could without stuttering, "Yes." He grinned and stuck his chin up in the air.

"Cheeky little thing, aint he?" One of the taller boys, with messy brown hair said to his companions.

"Deserves his ass beat then don't he?"

"Sounds like it to me."

Harry glared at them. He only knew one defensive spell, and he'd never managed it, not even without words, but something made him pull his wand out and try anyway. The boys laughed, and only laughed harder at the concentrated look on his face. They didn't freeze, and Harry lowered his wand.

"I think he's trying to stare us to death Jason! He's barmy!" They laughed loudly again and then advanced, fists clenched. Harry tried not to yelp. The older boys had harder swings, and reminded him of uncle Vernon.

And almost as soon as it had started, it had stopped. Panting, slumped on the floor, Harry watched as the boys scattered in every direction, and wondered for a brief moment why they had gone, when a tall, looming figure in sweeping black robes appeared around a corner.

Snape seemed to be looking for something, and soon his eyes found Harry on the floor, blood dripping from his nose and mouth, and from a cut above his right eye. He cast a last glance down the hall to see that they were alone, and then strode over to Harry, and lifted him up from under one arm.

"Again Potter?"

Harry frowned. Did he think Harry had caused this yet again?

"I'll take you to the Hospital Wing-" He tried to lead Harry off down the corridor, grasp still firm around Harry's arm, but Harry didn't budge.

Instead he wrenched his arm free, and shouted as best he could, "F f f for g g get it! N n not g g going any wh where w with you!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Not anywhere Potter, the Hospital Wing."

"W why? S s so y y you c c c can t t t tell p p p p people I I I'm st stupid again? A a a and th that I I st started it?"

"Don't be so dramatic Potter, I came down this corridor because I heard something."

"W well th that doesn't m m matter d d d does it? Y you w w w won't b b believe me anyway!" With this Harry took off and was all the way to the portrait of the fat lady before he bothered to slow down and look behind him to see if Snape was following. He was nowhere in sight, and Harry entered the common room, forgetting that he was still bloody.

There were a few gasps, and all of Ron's brothers came over to him to see his battle wounds.

"What's happened to you Potter?" Percy asked.

Harry gave a pleading look to Ron, too upset to try speaking again, and Ron said, "Draco Malfoy."

Harry pointed upwards, and Ron translated, "And some older Slytherins too?" Harry gave a nod and Fred whistled low.

"Little git," said George. "Reckon we ought to teach him a lesson Fred?"

Ron and Fred both nodded, but Percy held his hand up and said, "I'll write straight to mum if you do. Better go to the Hospital Wing and get those cuts taken care of Potter.

Harry shook his head no, but Percy nodded yes and pointed to his badge to remind Harry that he was a Prefect. With a glare, Harry headed back out the portrait hole with Ron by his side.

"Any luck with the silent spells yet?" Ron asked as they neared the hospital wing.

"No."

"Rotten luck that."

"I h hate it h h here."

Ron frowned. "You don't mean that. You mean you hate that Draco and Snape are here."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, I know you hate those Muggles you live with. You'd rather be back with them?"

He thought on it for a moment and shook his head. Anywhere was better than four Privet Drive, but beatings every week weren't anything to be happy about either.

Madam Pomfrey tsked all through the five minute examination and healing of Harry's new abrasions and cuts, and kept shooting Ron dirty looks as if he had something to do with it. But soon they were back in Gryffindor tower, and Harry used the bathroom to wash all the blood off his face.

"Maybe you ought to learn Muggle dueling then... no words for that, just fists." Harry glared at Ron and held up a skinny arm to show him that he had no muscles.

"Come on then, you could still fight. I've got no muscles but I'm always having to fend off Fred and George at home. One time Ginny even helped them pin me down."

Harry laughed to a cross look from Ron. "A a and wh wh who w w w ould t teach me?"

"My brothers maybe? I dunno. But you've got to have something to defend yourself with. Can't carry Muggle weapons here or they'd expel you straight off. Percy told me it happened last year to a fifth year Slytherin... got caught carrying a knife and they kicked him out within the hour."

He didn't like to think about getting kicked out, and he didn't want to carry a knife or weapon anyway. If he could just learn a shield charm or the jelly legs jinx. Quietly he thought to himself that night as he lay in bed thinking about Ron's proposal, that someone must have cast a jelly legs jinx on his tongue when he was small. Just before he fell to sleep, Harry had recommitted himself to learning to do spells without words. He hadn't been so determined about anything before, as he was about this.

* * *

Potter had gone to the Hospital Wing after all. He had checked. So the cheeky brat knew how to take sound advice, just not how to think on his own. If he truly was being cornered and beaten by older students then he would have figured out by now to travel with other students instead of wandering by himself at night. But no, he had spotted the boy alone in the castle several times since he had last found him slumped on the floor and bleeding.

It was infuriating. It was obvious that the boy was picking fights and then trying to get attention from staff for being the poor, beaten child. The attention the others were already giving him at staff meetings was bad enough. If he had to sit through one more pity party for Potter on Monday morning, he was going to jump off of the North Tower.

‘Poor boy,' McGonagall had said last week, after Potter had been beaten a second time. ‘I wish there was something we could do for him. I tried speaking to him about the stutter, but he said he's had it since he could first talk.'

Severus had the urge to roll his eyes just remembering the conversation. ‘Poor Potter,' he mimicked the woman in his head. Next time he caught Potter slumped on the floor bleeding from a fight he had picked, he was going to give him detention, and nothing was going to change his mind about it.

Severus would have liked to believe he was resolute in his decision, but on Friday night, a week and half after he'd last found the boy after a fight, he heard shouts of laughter in the halls just after the eight o'clock second year curfew, and hurried to see if he would be handing out detentions.

"Levicorpus!" a familiar voice shouted, and Severus paled. They were using the spell he had made up in his own youth? Against whom? He hurried around the corner and found Draco Malfoy, surrounded by a group of older Slytherins, holding up his wand and dangling Harry Potter by the foot in mid air.

Harry swung with his fists, wand clenched in one hand, and tried to stutter out a Jelly Legs Jinx, but the boys only laughed louder when nothing happened.

"Sh shit," Harry said suddenly, having caught sight of Snape striding towards them. The other boys laughed again, not realizing that they were now caught. Harry obviously believed he would be in trouble yet again.

Severus cleared his throat loudly, and the boys spun around, sending Harry crashing to the floor in a heap.

Harry struggled to his feet, and swayed slightly once he was up, and the other boys in front of him looked as if they'd seen a ghost, for all the blood in their faces had drained and made them white like a sheet.

He cast his glare from Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, to the two third years, the fourth year, and the one sixth year, all from his house.

"I can see now why they've passed you over for Prefect Dusty," he addressed the sixth year boy with sandy hair first. "I would have thought at least that you would know better." He turned to the fourth year, Ralph, and said, "And I'm guessing you no longer wish to apply for Prefect next year? I would certainly be ashamed to have you as a prefect in my house.

"But sir, he's a little-"

Snape held up a hand and said, "Enough!" He began to pace back and forth up the line of students, and did not fail to notice how nervous Potter looked in the back, as if he expected to be in trouble right away.

"Detention for the seven of you," they groaned, and he finished, "for two weeks. You will report to Filch every night for fourteen days at seven o'clock, starting tonight."

"But Quidditch!" said Dusty, who was a Beater on the Slytherin team.

"You will have to miss it or get Flint to reschedule won't you? Be lucky that it was I who found you and not Professor McGonagall, who would surely have you kicked off the team for your display of idiocy."

The boy looked down, Snape's words cutting across him like a knife.

After a moment, Snape said, "Go find Filch. You will stay until nine o'clock tonight since you're already an hour late." They didn't move and he shouted, "GO!"

Harry watched, amazed that they had been told off by their own head of house. He knew McGonagall was strict with the Gryffindors, because he had seen her give Fred detention for revealing his supply of fanged frisbees and handing them out to the house. But Snape? Ron swore he'd never give a Slytherin detention.

Suddenly realizing that he was the only one left, and was sure to be in trouble, Harry sank back towards the wall, and tried to look invisible, but Snape was watching him already.

"You are out after curfew Potter."

Here Harry pulled out a crumpled note from a pocket, and handed it forward, hand shaking a little.

Severus took it and read McGonagall's handwriting excusing him from the curfew this one time because he was going to be coming in late from Quidditch practice.

It would have irked Severus that the rules had been bent for the boy, except that he had just that day written out several notes excusing his younger Quidditch players from the curfew for the next few nights.

"Are you hurt?"

Harry looked down at himself and seemed to take stock, before he shook his head no.

"You're bleeding." Snape pointed to Harry's face and he reached up to feel the small trickle of blood coming from his hair. He had forgotten that they had slammed him into the wall at first.

"Come with me." Snape turned and strode off towards the Dungeons, and Harry followed, wondering what was going to happen to him now.

Silently he was lead to Snape's office, where Snape rummaged around in a cupboard and pulled out a tin of something. He handed it to Harry and told him to rub it on the bruise forming on his forehead.

"It is bruise salve," Snape said when Harry just stared down at the tin.

Doing as he was told, Harry sat down in one of Snape's visitor's chairs and rubbed it into his skin.

"Th th thanks."

Severus crossed his arms and sighed. Perhaps he had not been starting the fights.

"Why do you insist on traveling alone at night when you cannot even do a simple jinx to defend yourself?"

Harry bit his lip and then tried, "N n nobody w w will t t t t teach me."

"There are 17 professors that staff this school Potter. I doubt very much there is no one to teach you."

"I c c can't g g get th the sp spells out. R R Ron s s says I c c can do th th them in my h head. O or I sh should l l learn M M Muggle d d dueling."

"Muggle dueling is banned here Potter, and wordless magic is not taught until seventh year."

Here Harry drew his wand and pointed it at Snape's desk. There was a feather quill lying on top of a stack of ungraded papers. He seemed to concentrate for a moment, and then the feather levitated a foot off the desk and then dropped down again.

Surprised, Severus stood up straight from where he had been leaning on the wall, and unfolded his arms.

"You have managed it? Why did you not use it tonight?"

Harry shook his head. "T t took me a l l long t t time t to l learn t that. O only o o one I c c can d do."

"Hm. It is a simple spell, but still, the fact that you managed it without words is impressive at this age. Still, you need to be able to speak the magic. Avoiding the issue of your speech will not help it get better."

"P potion?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "There is a general remedy for various maladies. It sometimes works, and sometimes does not." He turned and rummaged through his potions cupboard again, and after a minute came out with a large phial of blue liquid.

He handed it to Harry who took it and drank it down.

"Well?"

Harry shrugged. "Tell me your name."

"Harry."

"Tell me your full name and grade."

"Harry P P Potter, f f first y y year." Harry looked disheartened by the end of the mangled sentence, and Severus held out his hand for the empty bottle.

Harry gave it to him and Snape said, "We could not expect that it should work on something that you have had since first speaking, however it was worth the try."

Severus could not help but feel something unpleasant at the disheartened look Harry still wore. Damn but how could he ignore that? The boy was a student after all and it was his job to help students.

"Come back here tomorrow night at seven."

Harry's head snapped up. "D d detention s s sir?"

"No Potter. Bring your Charms book with you."

After the boy had left, curious and maybe a little confused, Severus couldn't help but thinking this might be the death of him... tutoring James Potter's son... yes, it would be the end.