As he tried to brew his first ever potion, a simple bruise salve with only four ingredients, he thought back to the long speech Professor Snape had given in the common room the night before about standing united and not letting their guard down around people from other houses. How silly, he thought, because Harry was in another house and he was the only person on earth he had ever let his guard down around. He couldn't even think of letting his true thoughts or feelings show to another person... except maybe Professor Snape.

How odd, he thought, wondering where that stray thought had come from. Why would I trust Professor Snape? He doesn't seem to like anyone very much, especially not from other houses, but he did check on us last night before bed, and when he handed out schedules this morning, he told me to eat my oatmeal so I would get sick, and take an apple in my bag in case I got hungry later.

He bit his lip in a similar fashion that Harry always did, a bad habit that they shared, and stirred his potion counter clockwise fifteen times, trying not to lose count. The Professor hadn't actually tucked them in, but he had talked gently to the first year boys in their dorm for a few minutes before lights out, letting them know that if they needed anything they could come to him, even in the middle of the night. His parents had not even treated him so kindly since he was a small child. Something had changed when his father had lost his job and his mother had started drinking, and he had always longed for the sense that he was cared for since that day. He felt a small flicker of that feeling when his new Head of House spoke. He was rough in class for sure, but in private he spoke in a way that put Mark and the other Slytherins at ease, as if everything would be ok.

At the end of Potions Mark went to Herbology with the other first years and tried to make friends with a few Gryffindors he ended up working next to, but was upset when they ignored him and talked only amongst themselves. The other Slytherins in his class didn't seem to pleased about his attempt at befriending Gryffindors either, and a boy named Peter nudged him in the ribs and whispered, "Stand united or fall dead, remember?"

Shoulders hunched, Mark felt in his pocked for the piece of paper Harry had given him with the Gryffindor password and location, his only reassurance that when he needed help Harry would be there for him as he always had been. He felt disappointed in himself for not making into Gryffindor as Harry had, and even more so that Harry seemed downtrodden and disappointed in him as well. What could he have done though? Harry had said there was no use in fighting the hat, so when it said he would fit better in Slytherin, he didn't put up an argument.

He sighed as he tried to repot the squirming Aspaga root, and when he finally succeeded and earned two points for his effort, it somehow felt undeserved, and he took no delight in it as his new housemates did.

At lunch he tried to catch Harry's attention again, and succeeded, only to be nudged hard by an older blond boy sitting next to him.

"Better not stare Evans," he said, and Mark looked up to see that it was Draco Malfoy, the bully Harry had warned him about.

"Huh?" he asked, rattled and unsure what to do. Did they allow people to beat kids up here like they did in primary school? He was unsure what protocol for dealing with bullies was here. At home, you ran and hid. But he had a wand now. Was he allowed to use that to defend himself?

"You're staring at Gryffindor," Malfoy said. "Best to knock it off before people get the idea that you wanted to be sorted there."

"Oh," Mark said, "ok," and he broke eye contact with Harry to stare down at his plate again, once again not feeling hungry, despite all of the warm, delicious, plentiful food laid out before him. Best to skip the meal anyhow, he told himself, because his stomach had hurt after what he had eaten last night, and too much food today would do the same to him.

"Cheer up," Malfoy suddenly said, nudging him more gently this time, thinking that perhaps he had made Mark feel bad. "Are you homesick? Professor Snape always listens when we're homesick. Once he even game me a candy when I was a first year and I went to talk to him about missing my family."

Frowning slightly in confusion, Mark looked up. "You're being really nice to me," he said, wary of the possibility of being lured into a trap, or perhaps having to dodge a punch for figuring out the ruse.

Malfoy smirked. "What did you expect? You won't find any friends out there," he motioned to the rest of the student body beyond Slytherin. "Stand united, remember?"

He sighed quietly. "Yeah," he said, getting the feeling that this was the way it was, and that he would have a very hard time getting to spend time with Harry. Or maybe he doesn't even want to be my friend anymore, he thought, remembering again the conversation on the train, and that perhaps all houses were told to stand united or fall apart. He was beginning to think that he didn't like this place very much. But what else was there to go back to?

* * *

Mark was delighted to spot Harry in the dungeons on Tuesday evening as he left Slytherin common room to explore the castle.

"Harry!" he said excitedly, hurrying over to him and not noticing the mop in his hands.

"Hey Mark," he said, standing straight and leaning on the mop handle.

"What're you doing down here? Did you come to see me?" His voice was too hopeful, and Harry didn't fail to notice.

He motioned to the mop and said, "Snape gave me detention."

Mark frowned. "For what?"

Harry shrugged. "Said my tie wasn't done right and my hair was too messy to grace his classroom. Told me if I was going to have a fan club then I might as well look good."

Biting his lip again, Mark remembered what Harry had told him about being famous in the wizarding world in the last week before the summer had ended.

"No worries though," Harry said. "Most everybody gets detention a couple times a year for something or other. Just not usually on the second day back." He mopped for a moment and then stood straight again, "Except maybe Ron's brothers Fred and George. They got detention last night for setting off fireworks in the girls loo after the feast."

Mark sniggered and Harry laughed too, glad to see his young friend happy.

"Are you mad that I got in Slytherin?"

Harry sighed. "Nope. You're still Mark Evans aren't you?"

He grinned and nodded, some of his messy hair falling down into his eyes. "Better comb it," Harry said, "or Snape will make you get a hair cut so short you're head will freeze all winter."

He ran a hand through his own hair then and continued, "Told me he would shave it if I didn't start to comb it down, but you know what it's like. Yours never lays flat either."

"Potter!"

Both boys looked up, startled to see Snape standing there looking angry. "I did not give you permission to talk to other students! I gave you permission to shine this corridor floor until I can see my reflection in it!"

Mark looked stricken, unsure what to do, but Harry mumbled, "Yes sir," and set back to work again, and Snape disappeared back into his office again and shut the door hard.

"You'd better go before he takes points from you," Harry said, and then waved goodbye as Mark hurried off, sad that he had gotten his friend in trouble, and had not gotten to spend any more time with him.

* * *

"I'm going to tell professor Flitwick that you were doing magic in the hallway," a Ravenclaw first year girl with short brown hair said haughtily to Mark after classes on Wednesday afternoon.

Mark looked up from where he had been kneeling, practicing tying his shoes with the charm they had learned earlier that day. "What?"

"You Slytherins are always breaking the rules, my older sister told me so, and I'm going to make sure you get into trouble for it." She stuck her chin up in the air as she clutched her books to her chest, and Mark was unsure what to say. He didn't want to get detention and scrub floors, and he didn't want to disappoint professor Snape, who had informed them that any time they got into trouble, he would know.

"But I-"

"But nothing. I saw you doing magic and you're going to lose a lot of points."

A throat cleared then and the girl looked up to see Harry standing there, only a few years older but already much taller than she was. Her eyes glazed over at the sight of him and her cheeks tinged red.

"Oh, hello Harry," she said in a dazed voice that made Mark want to gag and giggle at the same time.

"What's going on?" Harry asked having seen the panicked look on Mark's face, and also having been secretly listening to the conversation from around the corner.

"He was doing magic in the halls!" she said, snooty attitude renewed with vigor as she pointed at Mark accusingly. "I'm going to tell my head of house to make sure that he gets into trouble for it!"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

She smiled, thinking that he would approve, but found herself sorely mistaken.

"Well why don't you go be a little tattle tale like a five year old then, and when Professor Flitwick gets back, he'll find me and Mark gone and think you're a liar. How does that sound?"

Her face fell as Harry leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

"But he's Slytherin! You have to hate him!"

"He's my brother and you're a tattle tale. Who do I have to hate?"

She glared at him then and said, "You're not brothers! You're parents are dead and your last names are different! My sister told me all about you!" The dazed, dreamy quality of her voice was gone as she faltered for words, trying to make sense of this strange Harry Potter character who was not turning out to be all that she had heard.

"Yeah, well your sister was wrong. He was born before our parents died and then he got adopted by the people down the street from where I got adopted. So go on, go do your telling and I'll tell Professor Flitwick what I saw, while you tell him what you saw, and we'll see who loses the points."

She gave a loud hmpf, turned on her heel in a very Hermione like fashion, and strode away in the opposite direction of Flitwick's office.

Harry reached down to give Mark a hand up and Mark looked up at him in awe.

"You lied to her," he said quietly. He had never known Harry to be a liar, and had always respected him for that. It had emboldened Mark to tell the truth to his parents, even when it did mean a whooping or days without food in the end.

"No I didn't," Harry said. "It's true. You are my brother, even if the details are a little fuzzy."

Mark looked up at Harry's face and saw that he was very serious. "You mean that?"

Harry nodded.

This was how Severus found the first and fourth year Slytherin and Gryffindor in the hallway as he rounded the corner a moment later. There was Mark Evans, gazing up at the famous Harry bloody Potter, with a dreamy fan struck gaze, and Potter smiling down at him with a fake smile, undoubtedly trying to convince him of some untruth or get him into some sort of trouble.

"Mr. Evans," Severus said in a stern, quiet voice.

The boys looked over, and Mark sensed the nervousness in Harry. He could tell that Harry wasn't fond of the Slytherin head of house, although he wasn't sure why yet. It could be just because of the detention, or because he was not very kind in class.

"Yes Professor?" he asked quietly. Somehow he couldn't muster the heart to be afraid of this man who had continued to tell him to eat well and check on him and the other first years before bed each night and every morning before breakfast.

"I wish a word with you in my office."

"Ok."

Severus watched with disgust as Evans turned and gave a wave with a bashful, "Bye," before following him down through the castle and into the dungeons.

In his office, Severus offered the boy a seat in one of the visitor's chairs, and then pulled out a tin of hard candy and held it out to him.

"I- I can have one?" Mark asked, uncertain. The only person who had ever given him any candy was Harry. Piers Polkiss had offered him a chocolate bar once, but it had turned out to be a trap, and when he had taken it, Piers and Dudley had pounced on him.

Severus nodded, and Mark reached forward tentatively and selected a red strawberry one and popped it into his mouth, clearly enjoying the treat.

Waiting a few moments for the boy to get comfortable, and to gather his own thoughts, Severus finally said, "I wished to speak to you about other students."

Mark looked up and Severus was pleased to see he had the boy's undivided attention.

"Being from a Muggle home, you may not realize some of the... history, and politics of the wizarding world. I realize as much and do not blame you. However, it would be wise to avoid believing everything that other students, especially older ones, say to you."

"Sir?" He had a confused look on his face, and Severus clasped his hand together in front of him on the desk.

"I've noticed you've been speaking to Mr. Potter lately, and I would like to advise you against believing everything that he has to say. I do not want to see you lead into trouble. There is a long history of rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and it would be wise to be cautious. Also, your Slytherin peers may not appreciate any... notions you have about Mr. Potters fandom."

Notions about Harry's fandom? What did that mean? Harry was just... Harry. The boy on the next street who always protected him and fed him, and who once got beaten by his uncle so badly for getting caught letting Mark stay the night in his cupboard with him, that he missed school for weeks. If anything at all, Mark owed him for being such a good friend to him.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, Mark bit his lip and thought about how much worse Harry had it at home than he did. His parents withheld food sometimes, but not all the time, and they had never made him sleep in a cupboard. They even bought him clothes sometimes, even if they were second hand, and last year his mother had given him a storybook for his birthday. But not Harry. Harry was guaranteed a beating a week, and even now Mark knew that there were large mottled bruises on Harry's back and shoulders.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Mark asked suddenly, unsure if he could really trust this man before him. Part of him was screaming no no no, he's an adult and he'll only hurt you, but part of him was saying yes yes yes, it's worth it if I can pay Harry what I owe him for taking such good care of me.

"Of course," Severus said. He had been watching the boy work something out in his mind silently for the last few minutes.

"Promise you won't... well, never mind. It's a secret but you have to do something about it." He was going to ask him not to tell anybody, but that might be necessary to get Harry out of the Dursley home. Mark had not yet thought about the possibility of Harry being put someplace far away from Little Whinging and not having his protection next summer.

"I am listening," Severus assured him. Mark nodded, and then dove in, knowing he could not go back once he started.

"Harry doesn't have a real good home life sir. His relatives are mean to him and make him scrub floors a lot and do a lot of other chores. They don't feed him much and his cousin beats him up a lot. They even used to make him sleep in a cupboard under the stairs and-" Mark stopped speaking when his professor held up a hand to stall him.

Snape was quiet. "Sir?"

His eyes rose to meet Mark's, and Mark could tell that the man was angry.

"You did not listen to a word that I told you, did you Mr. Evans? I brought you here specifically to warn you about believing things that come so glibly from Potter's lips, and here you sit spouting his lies to me. I assure you Mr. Evans, that Mr. Potter's relatives feed him properly, pamper him, and have never made him sleep in a cupboard under the stairs. And in the future you would do well to spend more time listening to your head of house instead of to the Gryffindor golden boy who apparently thinks it's funny to send his fans down here in order to garner respect!" By the end of the tirade the man had worked himself up, and when Mark was dismissed he made haste exiting the office, not wanting to catch any of the brunt of the man's anger.

Back on his bed in his dormitory by himself, Mark sat quietly and felt dispirited. He didn't understand what had gone wrong. Professor Snape had seemed so kind to him, and now he was angry because he had told the truth? Perhaps Harry disliked Professor Snape for other reasons that Mark wasn't aware of, and now he felt even worse because he had just spilled a precious secret to somebody who was unsympathetic.

He put his head in his hands. What have I done?

* * *

"Ugh!" Harry grunted in surprise as Snape grabbed his collar after Potions the next day and dragged him down the hall and into his office, depositing him unceremoniously into a chair. He expected to see defiance in the boy's features, but instead was pleased to find fearful, uncertain eyes.

"I don't know what you're playing at Potter," Snape spat out at him with so much contempt Harry thought it was too thick to cut with a knife, "but misleading innocent first years into having sympathy for poor little abused Harry Potter, is not acceptable!" He slammed his hand down hard onto the desk, and Harry jumped, wondering how the man could put anger, mocking, and scary all into one sentence.

"Really Potter, a cupboard under the stairs?" He laughed then and as Harry looked horror stricken and turned pale, Severus finished, "I underestimated your ability for asinine lies. Did you think I would give you sympathy if you sent one of my own little Slytherins down to tell me how poorly you've been treated?" He noted with vague satisfaction that the boy was gripping the arms of the chair he occupied so hard that his knuckles were white and his hands were shaking. Whether it was out of fear or anger, he did not know, but also didn't care.

"I suggest you stay away from my students Potter. The next time I see you speaking to one of them, you can count on detention. As for now, you can go out into the hall with a toothbrush and start scrubbing." Severus pulled open a drawer and withdrew the famous red toothbrush he usually reserved for Fred and George and handed it to Harry, who took it and stalked out without a word.

The gall, Severus thought angrily as another Potter induced headache set in once again. He could hardly stand even the thought of the brat.