Harry was nervous walking into the great hall that evening. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to talk to Dumbledore yet, and he was absolutely certain that he wasn’t in the best state to talk to Malfoy.

 As he made his way past some whispering third years on the Ravenclaw table, Harry saw Professor McGonagall get up out of her seat and make her way into the room behind the staff. Just as he started climbing the steps to the dais, she emerged, followed by Malfoy, Snape and Dumbledore. The Gryffindor and Slytherin heads took their seats and Dumbledore walked up to his podium. Malfoy hovered to the side, looking awkward and uncomfortable.  The hall went silent and Harry froze where he was, unwittingly mirroring Malfoy.

“You will have noticed” Dumbledore’s voice boomed out through the room, echoing slightly, “that over the past few days, this school has been a different place. Fights have broken out and an absurd amount of studets have been truant from classes. Students have been rude to professors and staff and more detentions have been handed out in the last three days than have been given in any term in the last hundred years! ” His eyes swept the four tables and students looked down at their empty plates, or fiddled with cutlery to avoid his accusing gaze.

“Professor McGonagall has informed me that she is implementing a trial over the next fortnight whereby any student who can earn twenty points for their house will have one detention deducted, provided that they have served a minimum of three detentions from today. Hopefully this will encourage some of you to stop this ridiculous new behaviour.”

There was a long, silent moment as everyone absorbed this.

Harry was glad that the staff had decided to give their pupils the chance to earn back some free time. Constricting them any further might have brought on a full revolt like the one employed against Umbridge by Fred and George’s dramatic exit the year before. And twenty points was a reasonable goal, it would only take a few of days of hard work. House points would skyrocket if the idea was popular- and they needed the boost, the points were lower now than they had been since the first week of September.

“As most of you know by now,” the headmaster continued, “This was all sparked by a duel between two of our sixth year students.” Dumbledore raised his hands to gesture towards Harry and Draco on either side of him. Harry was worried to see that there was roughly the same number of Gryffindors and Slytherins looking at him like he was the wrong end of a blast ended skrewt.

“Both students showed an extreme lack of maturity and control by engaging in this fight.” Hardly childish, Harry thought. Most children didn’t wander around with those kinds of curses on the tip of their tongues. Dumbledore turned his head slightly so he was looking at Harry and dozens of others from the crowd followed the movement. Harry reflexively tugged his fringe down so that it hid his scar.

“They recognise this… folly and have been awarded punishment. As such they have been removed from their houses and have lost their prefectship and quiddich captain positions. For the remainder of the year, instead of those duties, they have agreed to take on roles as assistant to a Professor.”

Harry hadn’t realised he was supposed to be an assistant, he thought he was just supposed to take his two classes. Maybe that explained why Snape was being so oddly – well, helpful, at the moment. He wondered who Malfoy was going to help, maybe Slughorn.

There were a few murmurs from the house tables, Harry watched Zacharias Smith lean over to the Ravenclaw table to say something to Michael Corner. He could even hear what the boy was saying above the other voices.

“Yeah, he says they’ve been punished. What sort of punishment is getting their own room and getting help from all the teachers? They probably aren’t even getting detentions, Potter’s getting extra lessons.”

“Thank you, Mr Smith.” Harry could hear Smith clearly, obviously Dumbledore had as well. “I can assure you that your classmates have a lot less free time than you, and many more restrictions on what they are permitted to do with that time. If you feel you are not receiving enough work from your professors, I am certain they will oblige you with more.” Smith looked comically shocked at being singled out but nobody smiled or laughed as they would normally have done.

“He’s got a point though. Don’t look at me like that!” Harry was amazed that the shrill voice of Pansy Parkinson came from the Slytherin table at full volume. Half of the hall had turned in their seats to see her standing in her place.

“Miss Parkinson?”

“If it had been anyone apart from your perfect chosen one, they would have been expelled in a moment and everyone knows it!”

“As I presume you can see, Miss Parkinson, there are two students here. I think you will find they are being treated exactly the same.”

Pansy made a scornful noise and sat down again, whatever had prompted her to defend her housemate had run out.

Dumbledore turned to Harry and signalled that he should come closer to the podium. Swallowing his nerves, he did. He could hear his breath magnified by some charm as he approached.

“So, um… as you’ve been told I was involved in a fight with Mal… erm Draco.” Malfoy shot him an irritated look, he probably should have stuck with the surname. “He got hurt pretty badly and I really regret it, and what happened afterwards with the rest of the school too, but I’m not really sure what happened to be honest.” Harry heard the unmistakable sigh of Snape’s exasperation. “And I’m going to be helping with Defence so if you need help and you’re not doing NEWTS or anything, give me a shout.”

He gave up there and shrugged, turning to Malfoy. He offered his hand,

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Malfoy didn’t move for a second but he looked over Harry’s shoulder at Dumbledore. Almost convulsively, he grasped Harry’s hand for a moment before letting go. It twitched at his side as if he wanted to wipe his palm on his robes.

The blond stepped up to the lectern for his apology.

“I duelled Mr Potter on Wednesday night and was injured. I am sorry for this misjudgement and for the following disruption to the school. I will be assisting Professor McGonagall if anyone below OWL level requires extra assistance in Transfiguration.”

Dumbledore dismissed them both to their seats which were at opposite ends of the staff table, Harry was in his usual place next to Filch and Draco was sitting next to Hagrid now. Harry wasn’t sure which of the four of them was most disgusted by the arrangement.

“Eloquent as always, Potter.” Madame Hooch chuckled, leaning past Filch. Harry grimaced back, compared to Malfoy, he knew that he sounded like a ghoul trying to speak in senntences.

 “Shame there’s no quiddich this weekend, I suppose when there’s only one second year who is allowed to play, it wouldn’t have been much of a match.”

“Could you put on a mini match for the first and second years? Everyone else is going to be in detention anyway. You could switch them in and out on the school brooms. They never get a chance to play on the real pitch after all. None of them even get a quiddich game unless they make the team.”

He wasn’t sure where the idea had come from. It had just jumped, fully formed from his head. His mind started whirring with how it could work, after all, most of the first years didn’t know that much about the sport.

Hooch looked thoughtful, then disappointed, “I am supposed to be taking detentions though.”

“If everyone was in one place, you wouldn’t need so many staff to supervise everyone else. You could make everyone with detention clean the stands or fix up some of the older brooms.”

Madame Hooch had a gleam in her eye, “Are you free tomorrow, Potter?”

“Sorry Professor, I promised to help Professor Snape. Ginny Weasley has detention but I think she would be a great help. You might want to look out the counter for the Bat-Bogey Hex if she’s refereeing though.”

Hooch nodded enthusiastically, “No need, Potter. I refereed matches between the Holyhead Harpies and the Vratsa Vultures back in my prime.” She turned away from him to shout the idea to McGonagall past a visibly disinterested Trelawney, Burbage and Snape.

Harry felt something brush against his ankle and looked down to see the caretaker’s cat watching him.

“Does Mrs Norris like salmon?” Harry asked.

“Not if it comes from you Potter. Stay away from my cat.”

Harry nodded and started to pick his way through the fish. The staff table had considerably more cutlery than he was used to and he was certain he was using the wrong ones for everything. He hoped nobody was looking.

The staff room was, if possible, busier than it had been the day before. Immediately after pouring out the tea (and leaving a pot of coffee out for whenever Snape turned up) Harry was dragged to one side by McGonagall and Hooch to explain the quiddich idea.

“Don’t split it up by house, there’s enough division there as it is. You could try doing it the muggle way by splitting them randomly. Then give them a number, you could have two or three seekers for each side and a couple of keepers, about six chasers and then there’s beaters, do you want beaters?”

They both gave him a look.

“Okay, so no beaters. Every five minutes, they could all switch round. That way they’ll spend most time as a chaser, and get a fairly long turn at everything else too. Then you could have a couple of people resting at a time as well. Anyone who was desperate to not fly could keep score or act as a commentator or something like that.”

“Which older students would you suggest to help?”

Harry frowned, “I know Professor Snape is taking a few people for something else. Ginny, would enjoy it, Katie Bell would if she’s feeling up to it. Maybe Seamus. Neville would be good as long as you keep him on the ground”

“Anyone from the other houses, Minerva?” Hooch asked, “Mr Finnegan is not the most reliable flier, and Longbottom would probably manage to break something even if we tie him to the stands.”

“Rolanda, behave.” Professor Sprout turned in her seat to glare at the flying instructor, “In any case, Mr Longbottom will be assisting me in the morning, Severus suggested he help me supervise the detentions in the greenhouses and I quite agree.”

That was a good move on Snape’s part, Harry thought, he had managed to make sure that Neville was as far away from any potential potions ingredients and also that he didn’t offend Sprout when he did so.

“Mr Summerby from my house would enjoy this little venture of yours Rolanda. You might consider Mr Smith as well but he does have an unfortunate habit of making rather inflammatory remarks.”

“You could say that.” McGonagall scoffed.

Harry started standing up, contemplating getting himself another drink and almost died of fright as Professor Flitwick appeared at his side. He dropped his mug and only just caught it before it hit the ground, unfortunately his knee smacked into the ground, hard. He stood up, trying to rub some feeling back into it. He tried to ignore the applause coming from the three witches behind him.

“Sorry, can I help you, Sir?” Harry asked Flitwick who seemed to have mostly escaped being showered in tea.

“Do come over here for a moment, Potter. Severus was just explaining your newest idea.”

Harry followed him to the other side of the room, filling his cup on the way.

“Sit down, sit down,” Flitwick said, pointing to a tall, dark leather chair.

“I think that’s Professor Snape’s sir, I can just bring…” Harry had turned to get his, but could see from here that it had been taken by the Astronomy teacher. He did not want to take Snape’s seat but Flitwick was looking at him expectantly.

“Filius, stop torturing the boy.” Snape appeared beside Harry who jumped but held onto his mug this time. “Potter, this coffee is too weak.”

“It’s been sitting for ten minutes,” Harry said, “It probably needed a stir first”

Snape’s eyes narrowed, “Of course I stirred it. I am a potions master, do you think I do not know when to stir coffee?”

Through sheer force of will Harry managed to not roll his eyes.

“Now, now boys. We were going to talk about Potter’s idea. Here,” Flitwick made a complicated movement with his wand and the leather chair grew wider and wider until there was a loud squelching noise and the chair split into two identical chairs. Snape gave Harry a look which told him that he would rather sit on a purple pouffe than matching chairs, but that they would put up with it for a short while.

“Which idea, Sir? Quiddich?” Harry didn’t think that Flitwick had ever been particularly interested in the sport.”

“No Potter, this shared homework idea you’ve had. I wasn’t sure about how well it would work practically but Severus says you are certain they won’t copy off each other.”

Harry bit his lip, “I don’t think it would matter if they did, Professor. The whole idea is that they have to think about what they would do if they actually were in that situation. They’re all slightly different, each group of four has a scenario with four different things to face- Vampires, Werewolves, Banshees and Ghouls. And then all the people in the same group have the same location.” Snape looked a little confused. “So one group has Hogwarts, another their own home, the Hogwarts express, Diagon Alley- places like that. Do you see? So they can work together on some parts but they will have to deal with the bulk of it by themselves. And this way, they have to learn everything anyway. I thought I might give a prize for the best group and best individual in each class.”

The teachers looked interested and a couple of those who had been eavesdropping on the conversation were more obvious about it. There was a quiet squeaking as the Arithmancy professor shuffled themselves and their chair into the corner beside them.

“What are you going to give as prizes?” Somebody asked.

Harry shrugged, “I’m friends with a couple of house elves in the kitchens, I think one of them might be able to get me a couple of cakes- maybe something they don’t normally make at Hogwarts.” There were nods of agreement, there wouldn’t be much point giving a prize anyone could nick from the kitchens.

Snape shifted in his seat suddenly, “While we have the attention of so many of you, who has the money for the pool on Potter.” The man was almost smiling.

“Which one?” Sprout asked.

Harry blinked at her, “What do you mean, ‘which one’?” Everyone was looking over now.

Snape just ignored him, “The permission slip. Do you imagine Pomona, we had a heart to heart about who Potter’s first kiss is going to be?”

“Oh, I’ve got the permission slip money!” Professor Sinistra shouted from next to the fireplace, she started rummaging in her book bag.

“I’ve had my first kiss.” Harry said to himself, confused and slightly offended.

“Oh, who was it dear?” Madame Pomfrey asked Harry hadn’t even seen her come in.

“Um, Cho? Last year,” he murmured.

“I said so! I told you all!” Professor Flitwick jumped up out of his seat and rushed over to Sprout who pulled a small pile of Galleons out of her robe pocket.

“As I was saying,” Snape shouted, “I won the pool. Filius would you sit down?”

Professor McGonagall looked sceptical. “Are you sure it was permission to be up after curfew. We covered this before, it doesn’t count if you gave him access to the restricted section. And he had to ask before the bell actually rings!”

“Yes, I am sure. I was well aware of the conditions.” He was sulking now.

McGonagall turned to Harry, “Why him of all people? He’s going to be so insufferable about it. Do you know how much money was in that, Potter?”

“Um, no?” Harry said, still overwhelmed.

“Most staff members put in ten Galleons, some of us put in more than that.”

Snape smirked, “Lupin put in five sickles in as the entry, and Minerva backed him for the rest providing he split it with her. That fool Lockhart put in forty galleons.

“Here we go!” Sinistra called, pulling a large, clinking bag across the room with her. “Three hundred and twenty six galleons, 13 sickles and eighteen knuts. There’s also a bottle of Elf wine, some liquorice and some sugar quills.”

Harry stared as Snape hefted the bag onto his lap and started to rake through the piles of coins.

“Sir, isn’t that about a thousand pounds?”

“It’s closer to sixteen hundred actually. Would you like…” Snape counted quickly under his breath, “seven sugar quills?”

There was a moment of silence as the grumbling stopped.

“Sure, why not?”

Snape tossed them into Harry’s lap and he opened one, packing the rest away for later.

Harry stayed for another quarter of an hour, listening to McGonagall fight with Professor Babbling over whether any of Trelawney’s predictions actually ever came true. He was about to leave so that he could dump some of his bags before his detention when Professor Flitwick spoke up to the room at large.

“I have had a large increase in enquiries about the Lumos Solem charm today, did somebody bring it up in their lesson?”

“Not in my class,” Professor Slughorn said, “But has anybody else seen the number of second years wandering around looking like they fell headfirst into a vat of Mrs Icara’s Patented Skin Toner? I wondered if somebody had been trying to brew it themselves.”

“I can’t say that I have,” Madame Pomfrey said, “The only person I have seen since Mr Malfoy left was Miss Brown from Gryffindor with some fairly bad sunburn, odd for March, don’t you think?”

Harry turned bright red, McGonagall shot him a curious look and Snape was giving him a smug one. Harry watched Snape open his mouth, knew he was going to be ratted out and lost his nerve. Abandoning his mug, he shot out of his chair and made his escape, dropping apologies on the way out. As the door closed behind him he heard a sound which astonished him.

Severus Snape was Laughing.

The Latin detention was as painful as the previous one had been. The room was once again full. The entirety of the sixth year was there now, Ron and Draco having turned up at 7 o’clock with everyone else. Surprisingly, Ron was placed with the Latin group.

Snape set Malfoy the same essay they had been given in class that afternoon. He was given a pile of books and looked almost happy until Snape informed him that it should be written entirely in Latin. With a small groan, Malfoy opened a text and started to write.

Most of the students were given essays, before Snape came back to Harry and the group who knew some Latin. He summoned some textbooks from his desk and sorted them into a new order.

“Until a hundred and fifty years ago, most classes at Hogwarts were taught in Latin. As you will have noticed if any of you spent half the time in the library that you should have, many of our older texts are in this language. As practice, you will each begin to translate a book to the best of your ability. That might encourage you to use better references in your essays occasionally.” He started walking along the lines of desks, dropping a different tome onto each with a bang. Ron grumbled at the minuscule size of the writing in his. 

“You will each translate the first chapter this evening, it is marked out for you. This should be possible within in the next three hours or you will explain to me why it is not completed. Get started.”

Snape was back at his table at the front of the room where Harry was waiting.

“Ok Potter, let’s make a start then.” The last book was a heavy looking Latin primer.

“The headmaster assures me that this is the best way to go about this. I have my doubts but we will persevere nonetheless.”

“Is this actually his, Sir? It looks old enough.”

Snape gave it a doubtful look. “It might well be,” he said, “The man does have a ridiculous number of books.”

Snape flipped it open, “Get out your quill then, Potter. We haven’t got all night.”

“This is a muggle book, we will have to cover the wizarding parts of the language separately.”

Finally they stopped for the night, a long time after Harry had stopped being able to take in what he was being taught. He could tell he was starting to bluff more and more of his answers and one of Snape’s hands was gripping the table hard as he tried to keep his temper for long enough to explain the next point.

There had been a tense moment half an hour ago when one of the Ravenclaws had obviously been listening in and couldn’t contain his exasperation at Harry’s slowness. Anthony Goldstein had shouted the sentence that Harry had mistranslated three times. Then, of course, Snape had shouted at him and - to general surprise and confusion – sent the boy to stand in a corner.

“You what?” Anthony asked, incredulous.

“Mr Goldstein, you have about twenty hours of detention left to complete, Ravenclaw house is down to its last fifty points and I have no patience left. You were all warned to not speak in this detention, so go!”

The last two words had been shouted and Anthony walked shakily off to the nearest corner and hadn’t moved until the bell rang for the end of detention.

Everyone disappeared fast, Anthony, his face bright red, leading the way. Malfoy waited until almost everyone had gone before packing away his things and handing in his essay. He looked like he might speak to Snape for a moment but the man shook his head and Draco left without saying a word to anybody.

When Lavender Brown came up to hand in her essay on Protean charms, Harry and Snape made eye contact over the top of her distinctly burnt hand and they both looked away quickly.

Harry was last to leave apart from Snape and as the teacher seemed to be heading back to his classroom they reluctantly walked together.

“Professor, can I ask why Malfoy is tutoring transfiguration?”

“You can ask.”

Harry thought that was all he was going to get so didn’t ask anything else. It wasn’t until they were on the grand staircase that Snape spoke again.

“Mr Malfoy’s wand was checked for dark magic and evidence was found of a dark spell being cast at some point. He told us something of why he cast it and Dumbledore believed he might benefit in the long term from a similar treatment to yours. Specifically he is doing Transfiguration because it is his best subject.”

“So you’re going to detox him from dark magic just before sending him home for the summer? Fat lot of good that’s going to do! He’s going to go straight back home and…”

“We aren’t certain it would be appropriate for Mr Malfoy to return to his family home.” Snape said, watching dispassionately as Harry tripped over a trick step. “Professor Dumbledore is considering offering his support and the protection that Hogwarts can offer.”

Harry stopped at the step he was on. “So Malfoy’s going to get to stay here in the summer? How is that fair? He’s been casting dark magic before we even get into any fight and I told Dumbledore about it and then after everything, suddenly it’s all my fault. And I still have to go back to the Dursley’s! Why the hell is Dumbledore mad at me and not him?”

Snape spun around and grabbed him by the arms. He shook Harry.

“Potter, would you shut up for one minute and try to not sound like such a spoilt, arrogant little brat.  I know you find that difficult, but just pretend for a moment.”

Harry blinked at him, Snape was two steps down and Harry still had to look up.

“Good. Stop being jealous of Malfoy, it is ridiculous in a child your age. Whatever problems you do have at the moment, be sure that you are not as special as you obviously think you are. Others are struggling in these times too. As to your obvious craving for the Headmaster’s attention; Professor Dumbledore sees that Mr Malfoy has always been a sort of tarnished silver. You however were always his golden boy and he has just noticed you are corroding. You should not be surprised that he is disappointed.”

Snape watched him for a second to see if the message had sunk in, he must have been fairly satisfied because he started walking back downstairs again.

“We will talk again tomorrow. Meet me outside the staffroom at 9 o’clock tomorrow and make sure you are wearing old clothes. I will get permission from the headmaster for you to use your wand in the chamber as well so do bring it with you.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Don’t skip breakfast either, it would be ridiculous if you fainted and we all got stuck down there for hours because of your poorly developed concept of punctuality. You will have plenty of time to finish your homework this weekend.”

“Yes, I’ll be there. Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Professor?”

Snape was acting very un-snapelike all of a sudden but the question still earned Harry a look.

“Don’t be rude, boy.”

They had finally reached the defence classroom.

“Goodnight then, Professor.”

Snape grunted, “Curfew is in two minutes.”

Harry dashed down the corridor without looking back. He arrived panting at the portrait to his room.

“Ron knows Latin well enough to translate a three hundred year old textbook on the Herbology and Magical History of Snargaluff plants without a dictionary.”

The snake swung open,

“The Weasley boy? That is unexpected.”

Harry ignored it and climbed through into his room. He collapsed on his bed for five minutes before forcing himself to sit back up and take out his homework. As tired as he was, he had three essays and now Latin work to do and whatever Snape said, he wasn’t certain he had enough time to finish them all.