It proved to be a quiet Tuesday morning. It was overcast, with a bit of a chance for rain later in the day, and so Hagrid's class was resigned to a tamer activity for the morning. Flobberworms. Though, in surprisingly good attitude, the students found the chubby little things rather adorable (especially since, Ron had muttered under his breath, if they weren't forced to do so for the next month as in the previous timeline).

The class had gathered under the branches of a particularly thick tree near Hagrid's hut where he had a bunch of the wee grubs in several baskets of fresh hay, writhing and squeaking softly. In a slightly larger basket just off to the side was a large supply of lettuce. Fang had taken it upon himself to guard the vegetables by plopping in a huff beside them and dozing off.

"Alrigh' students!" Hagrid called happily, clasping his calloused hands together. "T'day we're gonna' be a'feedin' these Flobberworms! Not as excitin' as yester'day but as it's a bit o' a cloudy day, I figured it'd be a' easy task. Once we're done, you all can scurry off early, eh?"

Everyone seemed cheered at the prospect of leaving early, even if they were all beginning to adore the gentle half-giant. Even the Slytherins were warming up to him; that is to say, they weren't constantly snickering behind him and were actually half-way respectful.

"Merlin, I had hoped to never have to do this ever again…" Ron whispered and scrunched up his nose when Hagrid turned his back to gather a head of lettuce and demonstrate how to shred them and feed the worms.

"Well, it's only for today…" Harry chuckled. Ron seemed pacified at that. Hermione and the boys queued up to grab some bits of the leafy vegetable, as Neville chatted with Hagrid off to the side about the types of lettuce the Flobberworms seemed to prefer and whether they had differing effects on their growth. Harry even noticed the Slytherins having a guarded interest in the wriggling animals. Pansy fed one of them a piece of lettuce Theo had shredded for her, and she shrieked in grossed delight as the worm began munching. Draco and Blaise laughed at her, but she playfully shoved them back. Vince and Greg found themselves absently nibbling on the lettuce as well as feeding their assigned grubs, as Seamus pointed out to Dean, who had also decided to try a leaf too. Lavender and Parvati giggled at the sight, making the boys inexplicably blush.

Draco seemed content to stay on the Slytherin side of the class this time, though when catching Harry's eye he flashed a soft smile. Harry returned it, then focused back on his worm which was currently being bullied by another, fatter grub.

"Oiy, yours is harassing mine!" Harry laughed, pointing to Ron's grub. Hermione rolled her eyes but there was a definite giggle she was trying to suppress.

"You're right mate, looks like he's had enough to eat for the next week!" Ron snickered.

"I think I'll name him Dudley." Harry shot Ron a sly little grin, his emerald eyes glinting. Ron's smirk grew into a mischievous grin as well.

"Perfect." The red-head replied.

"Oh that's terrible." Hermione huffed, but her light expression betrayed her sternness.

"Well, he's a lot like that flobberworm. At least right now." Harry shrugged. "He didn't get tolerable until…well, you know."

"Yeah, but that's not really fair, is it?" Ron's voice got quieter as this was a subject he wanted to talk with Harry about, but was never sure how to broach it tactfully. "He doesn't try to be decent with you until after his lot had to leave under penalty of death."

Harry shrugged again, picking up his runt of a flobberworm to better feed it. It squeaked at the movement but heartily gobbled the lettuce Harry offered it, its previous fear forgotten in the proximity of food.

"It's not entirely his fault. My aunt and uncle raised him to be like that, however intentional or not it was." Harry countered, feeling a bit bad now for calling his cousin a fat flobberworm. He supposed it wasn't so bad though, the boy was a bit of a constant terror in their shared youth. But his parting words still echoed in Harry's heart…

"I don't think you're a waste of space."

It was not profound in the least, but for someone who had grown up believing the hateful words thrown at him almost constantly in that house on Privet Drive…well, to Harry it meant quite a lot.

"And people…change." Harry replied after a moment of indulging in the memory.

"So I've been told." Ron huffed, a bit cross now though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"If all goes well, I may not have to go back there yeah? So, it's not a big deal." Harry tried to smooth over.

Ron softened his expression, hoping that would be true.

The rest of the class was peaceful and enjoyable despite the subject matter and gloomy skies. It was practically heaven to Harry, especially after the whirlwind that was the day before. And as it was, their day was almost completely free aside from Potions that afternoon and Astronomy at midnight.

Harry, Ron and Hermione plodded up towards the Great Hall when they were once again joined (to Ron's dismay) by a certain Slytherin.

"So…today's a new day; the bees are buzzing, the kneazels are purring…" Draco's voice drawled as he sauntered along.

"The Malfoys are squawking…" Ron muttered and Harry elbowed him.

"I'll ignore that jab because I'm in a good mood, Weasel." Draco sniffed, tugging his robes along as they walked. Ron shot him a half-hearted glare but said nothing in retort.

"You're unusually happy for ten in the morning." Harry chuckled.

Draco looked around, then back at the trio as he leaned in.

"I think I've won some points in your favor, Potter."

Harry's brows raised.

"Points for what?" Ron asked despite himself, first thinking for a split second the blonde meant House Points.

"I've had a bit of a talk with my year-mates. They'll be more cautious about where they put their loyalties I think. I've given them another option for a new power: You, Potter." Draco did his best to look and sound as if this was trivial at best but he was pretty proud of the way he had handled the meeting in the courtyard with his fellow Third Year Slytherins the previous afternoon.

"Me?" Harry almost gasped. "I'm not a power—"

"Oh yes you are, or at least it would be good to work them into that impression."

"That's rather deceitful, isn't it Draco?" Hermione asked. They passed a gaggle of Firsties on their way out to Hagrid's for their own class, Harry looking at the group amusedly. Draco however looked more put off by the cheerful children than by Hermione's question.

"It's how Slytherins work, Granger. We see nothing at face value. They know for a fact there's more to it; but the trick was getting them to see there was something there to begin with."

"Wow…I'm impressed." Ron said. Draco shot him a look; his distrust was rewarded.

"You people really are mental."

"Excuse me?!" Draco stopped, hands on his hips.

"Ron, that's enough." Harry put a hand on his shoulder, but it was friendly, not stern. Ron blushed red, then to Malfoy's astonishment he apologized.

"Sorry Malfoy." Ron mumbled. "I just think…that you and your House act really…weird sometimes."

"Not necessarily weird in a bad way." Hermione tried to placate.

"Weasley…" Draco decided to dip into the patience he inherited from his mother. "I understand that Gryffindors prefer to do things out in the open, but Slytherins do not. We are a House of skeptics and critical thinkers." Ron looked contemplative now as the blonde spoke, and Draco decided to add in an analogy.

"Look at it like this, Weasley: If someone were to bring us a say, a cake for Best House of the Year, you better believe we would wonder why, not because it would be unfounded," Draco smirked here, "but because we would think there's some ulterior motive to the seemingly harmless gift."

The red-head put his hand to his mouth as he thought this over, nodding once that he accepted the example after a moment.

"I just don't see how you can live like that…don't you get…tired of it?" Ron asked as they all began to walk on once more.

Draco shrugged, defying his father's hammering of etiquette.

"You know, Gryffindor's have critical thinking skills too…but they're more direct about it." Hermione offered after a moment of thought. The boys looked to her in interest.

"A Gryffindor might very well accept the gift…but depending on who it came from, they may either tuck in or cast counter-curse spells on the thing. I think the difference is that…for us, threats are considered to be more literal, while for your House, despite all that Dark Arts nonsense, threats are considered on a more figurative level. The political rather than physical." Hermione conjectured, truly enamored with the discourse.

Draco blinked. "I suppose one could put it that way…if only to oversimplify it."

Hermione huffed a laugh at the begrudging Draco.

"Yeah? Tell that to Flint." Ron snorted, and Draco had to agree. Marcus Flint was more of the physical than intellectual when it came to making threats, even to fellow Slytherins.

"Well, there are wildly varying arguments to be made on the effect of House relationships, ideology and even trust, in relation to the perspective of that trust and the choices made long after. One could argue that ultimately everyone has the capacity to be coy or straightforward, if only depending on the people and situation. And that can be said for the politically, physically or intellectually minded." Hermione offered.

The three boys stared at her for a solid five seconds. Hermione smirked.

"Is she always like this?" Draco asked, not sure whether to be impressed or suspicious that she was possibly taking the mickey.

"You have no idea." Ron finally relaxed a bit to smile. "That's our Herms, brightest witch of our age!"

"Ronald…! Stoooop…" Hermione blushed but leaned into him to hide her smile.

"Sweet aren't they?" Harry laughed as Ron's ears went pink and said red-head put an arm around her.

"Disturbingly so." Draco sniffed.

"Oiy, I'm right here!" Ron protested.

They approached the Great Hall now, having walked along slowly. It was empty aside from a few scattered students from all houses and years; plenty of breathing room much to Harry's delight. There were a couple of Professors as well sharing a morning tea—Lupin and McGonagall. Harry warmed at being near the man, but decided to choose a table a bit a ways from where the two teachers sat chatting amicably. Harry spotted a seat though where he could be facing the man, keeping him within sight.

It was still a cherished miracle Harry could see the man alive and well, and he would soak up every second that he could.

Draco sniffed, straightening his already pristine tie as the group headed inside.

"What?" Ron asked him, noticing he wasn't following.

"I've got another class in a few minutes." Draco hummed. "I ought to get going."

"Well good luck, and don't get into any trouble." Harry tried for a silky tone and knew the effect only amused, as well as knowing how ironic that was coming from him.

"Yes mum!" Draco called back, already on his way to his class and catching up to Theo and Millicent who had made it halfway down the corridor. They cast Harry an odd look before turning their backs on him and making their way through another part of the castle.

Hermione and Harry laughed and Ron scowled but it seemed half-hearted. They then made to go on when once again they were stopped, this time by the Headmaster.

"Ahhh, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Good morning." Dumbledore smiled softly at them, he having approached from the stairway.

"Good morning, Headmaster." The three said in unison, all equally happy to see the man before them in such good spirits.

Dumbledore seemed quite tickled by their unintentional harmony and chuckled.

"I was wondering if I might borrow young Harry here? Only for a moment or two." He clasped his hands before him, looking very much like the grandfather they never knew they had. It rather impressed Harry, who had forgotten how warm and calming the old wizard's presence was. All he had had for the past year or so was a portrait version, and really it wasn't the same.

"Sure thing P'fessor. I'll meet up with you guys in a bit." Harry smiled and waved them off. Hiking his bag up some he followed Dumbledore's lead up the staircase. Dumbledore was probably one of the few people Harry trusted to follow without wanting to question where they were going.

"So Harry, settling in alright for the new term?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly, Harry absently marveling how someone so old could keep such a steady pace up the stairs.

"I am, sir. And you?"

Dumbledore laughed again, having not expected the returned pleasantry. "I am, my dear boy. Thank you." The older wizard managed to jump the trick step without a second look, further amazing Harry. It was kind of ridiculous to be so astonished, he probably knew these halls as well as the Marauders—and Fred and George—did. Plus, the man was a powerful wizard—Harry had witnessed that in his duel with Voldemort in the Ministry.

Shaking his head, Harry decided to stop that train of memory. He was going to enjoy whatever time he spent with Albus, not tainted with darker memories of a past he wasn't supposed to have.

"You don't seem curious as to why I pulled you from the company of your friends, Harry." Dumbledore said after a moment, giving a glance of crystal blue eyes to Harry's emerald.

"Curiosity killed the cat, sir." Harry merely countered, which was true in a way. He had no fear of the man, and he knew for a fact his own curiosity got him in more trouble than necessary over the years….

Dumbledore outright laughed at this. "You surprise me, Mr. Potter." He chuckled. "As luck would have it, someone else told me the exact same thing earlier this morning."

"Oh?" Harry asked conversationally, brightened that he had made the headmaster laugh.

"Ah yes. Though you may be a bit disgruntled to know who…" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a bit, but not as much as they usually did.

"C'mon sir, you can tell me. Between friends." Harry smiled. Dumbledore looked fairly surprised at that answer but it did encourage him to divulge the information, however trivial it was, as they turned a corner. They were on the way to his office, Harry realized.

"Very well then…it was Professor Snape." Dumbledore seemed to eye Harry, expecting him to get upset probably at the comparison, but Harry merely looked mildly intrigued.

"Great minds think alike I suppose, sir."

"Indeed." Dumbledore raised a brow but they continued on their way. Before Harry knew it, he was sitting in the plush chair set before the desk that Dumbledore was currently settling behind. Fawkes trilled a soft song, gazing directly at Harry almost sorrowfully, his tune taking a melancholy turn.

"My my, Fawkes, that's terribly gloomy you old thing." Albus ruffled Fawkes's feathers, making the phoenix nip at him half in reprimand for interrupting his song and half in affection.

Before Harry could wonder why Fawkes was singing a sad song for him, Albus continued.

"Harry, I wanted to talk to you about…well, about what happened in your Potions class yesterday afternoon."

Harry's heart sank a bit then, resisting the urge to gather his arms about his knees, curling up in the chair.

"Yessir?"

"Well, to begin with, I try to go over most if not all detention slips. It is one of my duties as headmaster of this school, you see. I must keep record of them and determine if there are reoccurring problems that may need my direct involvement."

Harry, despite himself, wondered at this information. It was both comforting yet embarrassing to know the man likely knew of all student-made mishaps in his school, recorded or not. Harry could imagine his file on the Weasley Twins.

"And I came across a rather alarming reason for your slip, Harry."

Here it comes, Harry thought.

"Professor Snape claims you pulled out a wand on him during class?" Dumbledore's voice had gone a bit soft now, the gravity of the accusation in his voice, a touch of sadness if it were true, and perhaps a dash of worry too.

Harry felt himself blush, but sat up straighter to face his mistake head on, like a true Gryffindor.

"I don't know how you'll believe me, sir. But I didn't mean to, and it was certainly not intended for Professor Snape." Harry breathed, his heart oddly steady but his soul scrunching up a bit.

"Then…if you could explain your actions? I wish to understand what happened, Harry, not accuse. I know you and Professor Snape have had a…troubled…relationship…" Harry picked up where he trailed off,

"It wasn't his fault, sir. He just…startled me."

"Startled you?"

"Yes sir. We—the other kids and I—well, we were talking a bit—and he likes to keep his classes pretty quiet—and he slammed a hand on our table to get us to stop. But I sort of wigged out at the noise, not expecting it, and well…my reflexes were faster than my brain I guess." Harry quickly rambled out, wincing at himself as he realized he told the headmaster he had 'wigged out'.

Dumbledore laced his fingers on the desktop, regarding Harry through his spectacles. "I see."

"And well, Ron got upset that he got mad at me for it, and you know how it is. It's hard to get between an immovable object and an unstoppable force." Harry grinned weakly. Dumbledore seemed far more relaxed than moments before.

"I don't mind the detention though, I do deserve it." Harry sighed at himself now. "I've been working on doing better, but old habits die hard."

Having looked down at his trainers to mull over the unfairness of his own body and mind betraying him so much, Harry missed the very guarded and concerned look that passed over Dumbledore's face at the off handed comment. But it was gone when Harry looked back up through his fringe.

"Well Harry, I'm certainly glad to hear it was not something more drastic. We can't have students hexing professors, can we?" Dumbledore tried to lighten the mood, and Harry chuckled with a blush, nodding his agreement.

"You'll be having detention with Professor Snape beginning with this evening, Harry. Directly after dinner. And…" Dumbledore pulled out the slip in question from his drawer, "Oh dear, for the next week." He adjusted his glasses to look at it again, to make sure. He then sighed and looked to Harry a bit sadly. "It seems you have broken a new record with Severus. I don't think even the Twins have been able to rack up such a detention on the first day of class." Albus smiled though, and Harry blushed again, but still smiling too.

"I think I have a special talent for getting under his skin, sir."

There was a huff off to the side, and Harry turned to look at Fawkes, a bit startled to hear such a sound from the bird. He turned his attention back to the headmaster.

Albus sighed again. "Yes, that does seem the case, doesn't it? I assure you, Harry…he does have your best interests at heart. As do all the staff here for their students." Albus tried but Harry's rueful and accepting expression stopped his spiel.

"It's okay, sir. I know he can't help it. There's lots of people that don't really like me. It happens. I just wish we could get on better, but I do trust him with my life regardless." Harry shrugged, knowing Dumbledore of all people would understand this.

"Well…I'm happy to see this change in your perspective, Harry." Dumbledore commended, but regarding Harry with an inscrutable gaze.

"Well…let's just say I've decided to accept the things I won't be able to really change." Harry replied vaguely. He had plenty of changes he wanted to make…but changing the type of person Snape was just could not be done in his opinion. But Harry did still hope to get on the man's better side…and save him from the pain of the war. Whatever the man's opinion was of him, he still had grown to care for the Potions Master.

Even if he was rather cross with him right now.

"Sage words, Harry. I often have trouble doing just that myself." Albus seemed to hesitate before offering one last thing, both sensing the meeting would be over in a moment.

"Is…is there anything you wish to tell me, Harry?" Albus asked, uncharacteristically hesitant. The words, echoed from Harry's Second Year, and Tom Riddle's Fifth, sent a bit of a chill down his spine. Harry decided that once again part of the truth would be wiser than none. History would not repeat itself, he was determined.

"Yes sir, actually. But…it's not the right time. Not yet. I'll come to you when I'm ready." Harry replied softly, his voice almost a whisper but his smile seeming to put Dumbledore more at ease than his answer. Harry then brightened, the murkiness lifted to a brighter hue in his elation.

"Sir? Before I go…I was wanting to start up a club and I wondered if there was a form or something I needed?"

Albus blinked, obviously caught off guard by the request. "Of course, let me see…" He waved his wand and a couple of sheets of parchment flew into his hand. He blew some of the dust off them and handed them to Harry.

"These are the appropriate forms. I look forward to seeing what you'll be requesting as a club." Albus beamed.

"Thanks a billion, sir!" Harry exclaimed, thoroughly happy with this turn of events. Dumbledore looked a bit shocked at his joy at such a small thing but was glad it had a positive effect.

"Of course, Harry." Dumbledore smiled. "I daresay your friends will miss you if I keep you much longer. Run along then! I'll try to put in good word for you to Severus." Albus winked. Harry chuckled a thanks then hurried out of the office.

"What in Merlin's name kind of conversation was that?!" Severus almost roared once he was sure he heard Harry's steps fading away, cancelling the disillusionment charm he had put on himself as he stood in the far corner, somewhat behind Fawkes.

Fawkes gave a mighty squawk at the lanky Potions Master before flying up to another perch.

"Good heavens, I wonder if your talents are slipping a bit Severus…Harry definitely heard you huff in your little corner there…" Albus sidestepped the question.

"Like I care. The boy is an arrogant menace and this does not change my mind." Snape fussed, knowing he was being difficult. He stepped around to face Dumbledore who was now fishing in his drawers for something.

"I think I can safely say you do not believe that with as much conviction as you once did." Albus muttered, still rummaging.

"Well, as I said this morning, it was definitely some kind of PTSD reaction. Perhaps from his little adventure with the Basilisk last term." Snape growled, plopping himself on the chair Harry had been sitting in minutes before. His expression soured even more as he felt it was still warm—it made his skin crawl knowing he was now inadvertently sharing the body warmth of Harry bloody Potter.

"And this does not concern you?" Albus asked, getting up to look in a cabinet on the wall.

"Potter's welfare does not concern me as long as he is alive and breathing." Snape lied.

"Hmph." Dumbledore shot him a look that said he did not believe that one for a second.

"If that were the case, you would not have come to me before breakfast with your concerns."

"It's not concern, you old warlock. It's a report. I'm to look after your precious Golden Boy aren't I? Let you know when something is amiss?"

"That is not the arrangement, Severus. I merely ask you to keep an eye on him. Protect him, if needed. Whatever minute details are of course up to your personal discretion."

"Don't give me that. I will not be maneuvered into one of your little traps to admit some false sense of concern, as you put it, over the brat. I simply thought the action to be…out of character. Even for him." Snape slouched in the chair a bit more, hating and loving that it was unusually plush and comfortable. "And I felt that perhaps being aware that I was threatened would finally shed some truth on those rose-colored lenses you seem to view him and his little sidekicks with—I was naïve to think, anyway." Snape snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and looking much like he did in his Fifth Year when Sirius had tricked him into Remus's den in the Shrieking Shack.

Perhaps this was a feeling that was resurfacing…

"Severus, you know that if he had deliberately tried to curse you, being expelled would have been very low on Harry's list of worries." Albus looked rather pointedly at him, stopping his rummaging for the moment.

"I do not dare think, for a moment, that you would have done anything about it, had that been the case." Snape spat.

"Were he anyone else—"

"Yes yes, of course! Because he's Harry Potter—"

"Will you let me finish?" Albus didn't yell but sounded rather exasperated with the man. "I was going to say that were he anyone else, I would have no qualms about it. But given that I have gotten to know the type of person Harry is—don't give me that look, Severus, if you took the time to get to know him you would understand—I would be more concerned that this be a sign of something far more darker than some need to seek revenge on you for some mild antagonism the two of you have shared these last couple of years."

Severus didn't immediately reply, a bit comforted by this explanation and begrudgingly in agreement that Harry really had not meant him any harm, though he did not let on he felt so just to be spiteful for the time being.

"Lucius was of the opposite hope once upon the time. The fool had hoped he be the next Dark Lord." Snape instead grumbled.

"Which, as I'm sure even you can attest, Harry is not." Albus looked heavenward here, "Thank Merlin for that." Then he sighed, "But still, to get back to the matter at hand, I am rather troubled by the incident, and our conversation that you were present for." Albus sighed and continued his search anew; for what Severus did not try to guess.

"I still don't understand what transpired—the drivel of this latest episode in your coddling is simply beyond my comprehension." Snape snuggled even more into the chair, but his expression just as dour.

"Really, Severus. Must you be so difficult? The boy even glazed over what happened, taking full responsibility."

"As he should! Though why he did so is up for debate. It may still just be some ploy to further fool you into letting him off some bigger hook later."

"I don't think Harry is much for planning elaborate pranks as his father did so long ago. As far as we've seen, he's done nothing of the kind to even remotely suggest it."

"Hmph. With Lupin here, he may just blossom into the Marauder heritage."

"Is that why you're so out of sorts?"

"No!" Snape lied again. He shifted uncomfortably. "I merely suggest we keep a close eye on that wolf—"

"Severus, please. Let us round back to the reason we are even here, hmm?" Albus was getting rather irritable as he turned to another cupboard, his search continued.

Snape had to hand it to the man, he could multitask rather well.

Albus paused a moment, looking off into nothing as he remembered the conversation. "He mentioned not meaning to aim at you—who do you think he meant then?"

"Merlin only knows." Snape rolled his eyes, not wanting to be sucked into this…but knowing he was already incurably curious.

"And then he mentioned…oh what was it about…something about working…"

"'Working on doing better, but old habits die hard' is the phrasing he used." Snape rattled off impeccably from memory. As a former spy, he had excellent recall.

Albus smiled at him, and Snape scowled deeply.

"You were paying attention." The older man crowed proudly and Snape very much wanted to send a stinging jinx at him, though his heart warmed at the affectionate expression on his employer's face.

"If we can get back to the point?" Snape gritted his teeth, irritated more so than his fond feelings for the man at the moment. His conversations with Dumbledore always took sidetracks.

"Well, he's never done something like that before as far as we both know…and we are the ones who keep the closest watch on him…so whatever did he mean about working on it and it being an old habit? If that were the case, we would have had several incidents, and with multiple teachers, not just you. This is a magical castle full of unexpected goings on…"

"Exactly. He's just being a little—"

"Severus."

"—brat." Snape finished lamely.

"I don't think so. I think something deeper is going on with him. Especially with his remaining answer of having something to tell me but not doing so right away."

"And this surprises you? That he keeps secrets? He's a Potter AND a teenage boy, Albus." Snape now looked a bit bored, if only to irritate the man that he seemed to not find this whole thing of interest in the slightest. The opposite was the truth, but he was still difficult on principle.

"Oh you really are no help today." Albus huffed, like a father would a son instead of a leading war power and his semi-retired spy.

"I do try." Snape drawled.

"I can see that." Then Albus whooped in joy, looking as bright as the sun as he found what he had been looking for. He settled back in his chair, tin of sweets in hand.

"That was what all your rooting around was for?" Snape looked ill peering at the lemon drops; why was his boss like this?

"We all have our vices, Severus. Yours is sarcasm—mine is sweets." Albus plopped one in his mouth, wriggling around animatedly in his happiness and making Snape want to choke a cat.

"Now then—oh, lemon drop?" Albus offered the tin to Snape who politely refused. "Well, now then…I want you to keep an eye on Harry. More than usual, I mean. I already know you intended to do so, Minerva told me all about your little adventure stalking him and his friends—"

"I was not stalking! Minerva must have gotten a hairball stuck up her—"

"Anyways, my point being that you see now there is merit to your earlier observation that Harry is indeed acting differently about a few things, such as being on better terms with Mr. Malfoy…and being more respectful of you—you cannot deny he displayed a fair amount of trust in you just now. His life, Severus? I don't mean to be blunt, but that is a huge compliment. You cannot deny that."

For the first time that morning Severus was indeed at a loss for words. When he had heard what Potter thought of him, at least in the presence of the headmaster, Snape was indeed incredibly surprised. Potter could have easily bad-mouthed and complained to him in the perceived privacy of the meeting; perhaps try and glean a lighter detention or get it waived altogether. But he didn't. And as a man whose livelihood relied on discerning the truth from others, he could not readily dispute that what Potter had said he had meant.

"Perhaps he is under some sort of derivative of confundus, as a practical joke." Snape mused.

"Is it so hard to accept such wholesome trust, even from a child?" Albus looked on sadly at the man before him. He had worked these past few years to get him to mellow—which had worked if only a bit—but he still had plenty work cut out for him still.

"A Potter would never do so willingly. He speaks it as a truth, there is no doubt. But whether or not he is himself while saying it is a different matter entirely." Snape's voice had now lost the bite it once had, toned down to a speculative and wondering inflection. A twinge of something else lay there in his voice that Albus did not like—sadness.

"I know you do not wish to hear this, but Harry is not his father—nor is he his mother. Whatever you may think of their reactions to you, Harry is a completely different person altogether."

Snape gripped the chair's armrests, controlling his feelings best he could. "I. Do. Not. Care."

"I do believe you're afraid to."

"Are you calling me a coward?!"

Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Severus." Snape spluttered, flushing at the expression. "I merely observe that perhaps you should try and see the child in a different light…to regard him as his own person rather than through your own 'rose colored glasses', as you told me earlier." Albus smirked, throwing the phrase back at Snape who did not appreciate it at all.

"An order?" Snape shot back.

"A suggestion." Albus calmly replied.

Snape didn't deign to continue the conversation and so he was allowed to leave with a fond (if slightly depressed) wave from his headmaster.

Severus Snape felt the entire morning a complete disaster, and it fouled his mood for the rest of the day. He felt the hours tick by like scabies burrowing into his skin. He could only hope that his class (and subsequent detentions the next seven days) with the brat would perhaps bare some kind of fruit in this new, exhausting puzzle he had somehow gotten thrown into to solve.

Harry skipped down the hallways, thoroughly cheered as he wondered back to the Great Hall. Thoughts of detention and passive aggressive battles with Snape completely gone from his mind for the time being. His plans were coming together!

Harry found Percy walking alone through the same corridor and hopped alongside him, startling the Head Boy.

"Harry! Merlin, you gave me a fright…" Percy huffed a chuckle, seemingly relieved and recovering quickly. Having lived in the Burrow, Harry figured he was used to surprises.

Harry kind of envied that now.

"Oh I'm sorry Perce. I was just excited to show you—I got those forms for our club!" Harry waved the parchment about as the turned a corner.

Percy seemed to blush a bit at the nickname, unused to it from Harry but apparently happy with the familiarity, and grinned, shifting his countless freckles upward.

"That's great, Harry." Then his expression faltered. "Our club?"

Harry blinked. "Well, yeah. You're helping heaps, it's only fair to give you some claim over it yeah?"

Percy's ears tinged pink but he nodded, clutching some of the books in his arms tighter to his chest as he continued to smile to himself as Harry chattered on about what was next on their list to get the dueling club started.

Percy Weasley was of the older batch of Weasley children, but often felt a bit on the short end of the genetics stick. Sure he was smart, but everyone in his family was smart.

Bill and Charlie were so athletic and suave. Fred and George had each other and a particular knack for inventing the oddest (but most impressive) thingamabobs and prank-fodder. Ron was a masterful chess player (and fantastic at any sort of strategy really) and best friends with the Boy Who Lived. And Ginny was not only the first girl in seven generations of their paternal family line, but she was coming into her own with a talent in hexes (as could be seen in her defenses of the Twins' brotherly harassment—a sure talent she inherited from their mother).

But here he was, in his Seventh and Final Year at Hogwarts, and beyond having some interesting titles in school government (first a Prefect and then Head Boy) and fair grades, he was not really an interesting person—in his own opinion. It was why he often sucked up to teachers, as he wanted to be irreplaceable as a person. To be a responsible yet approachable young man was a niche he thought he could fill. In a family of curse-breakers and dragon tamers, inventors and side-kicks to boys who had survived the killing curse (!) he was grasping for straws.

Percy's quest though had left him with weak student-to-student relationships. Even his brothers, while he knew they loved him as family, found his presence a bit suffocating and said so. And his own year-mates were friendly on the surface but offered no comradery like Harry had in his own year—though Percy admitted he wasn't sure he had much to offer in friendship with someone like Oliver Wood or the others.

But somehow he was getting the attention of Harry Potter. It was a small gesture to ask for his help, and Harry could have gone to any upperclassmen to complete the task—but Harry had chosen him. This was not new, plenty of Percy's year-mates often asked for his help on assignments or even organizing activities on occasion…but he was never properly invited and never given credit for his help.

Until now.

Something changed in Percy's heart as he regarded Harry, who he had been slightly jealous of before. Harry had the adoration of Percy's own family and friends and was a hero in his own right. But as they walked along to the Great Hall, watching intently as Harry animatedly described all they could accomplish with the club now that Lockhart was gone, Percy saw just another boy. Well, perhaps not just any boy…but just Harry. Excitedly sharing his ideas and thoughts with him as if they were close friends, and in that moment Percy's heart warmed much more in regards to The Boy Who Lived.

"Well, where do you think the defense wards would be written, if at all?" Ron asked, stuffing his mouth with some crisps.

The Trio had settled in a corner of their common room, the nice one with a table right by the window and out of ear shot. They had popped by the library again for yet another book, this time one on warding, and decided to spend some time back in the Tower so as not to look too suspicious and standoffish.

It had already been barely a day and the rumors were flying about Lupin's class, as well as the Potions Incident before that. Harry had not really noticed until more students flowed into the Great Hall after he and Percy joined Ron and Hermione. The whispers had started up again, as well as the staring. And it made Harry a bit on edge, but decided to ignore it best he could. Survive the rest of the day unscathed was his goal now; hopes dashed that it would be a good day. And the knowledge that Snape would be in an even fouler mood than before really did not bode well for The Boy Who Lived To Irritate Him On Sight. Well. It certainly felt that way anyhow, and Harry really did not think he needed help in conjuring irritation in the old ex-death eater. The day was likely shot now because of all this.

And it had been such a lovely morning too.

Not wanting to know what people were saying, Harry up and left the room, not even intending to wait for lunch there. Hermione and Ron scurried after him, and they decided to wile away the hours they had for more planning and research.

Once in the common room, and once most of the Tower had emptied for the Great Hall, Harry had called up Dobby to ask and see if it would be possible to send them their meal there instead. The elf was more than happy to serve, and happily brought them lunch. Harry then insisted that he stay and eat lunch with them, to which Dobby cried happily about for the next five minutes, snorting his sobs and hiccupping his thanks at being invited by such a true hero to eat a 'real wizarding meal' with him.

Ron crinkled his nose at the pitiful creature sobbing all over Harry who was clutched in his wee thin arms in a hug, but found himself smiling. Hermione patted Dobby's back and set him a comfortable place on the table, back facing the window and therefore a part of the conversation. They decided to be half-truthful with Dobby for now, telling him they were doing some research. But honestly, Dobby didn't seem to care, he was far too happy just being there.

"I don't know…" Hermione sighed, closing her copy of Hogwarts: A History and leaning back. Harry thumbed the newest book to their pile, nibbling on a carrot stick. Dobby peered over his shoulder at the text as well.

"Dobby, have you any idea what protections exist on Hogwarts?" Ron asked after a moment.

Dobby blinked, then scrunched up his face trying to remember something he was told.

"When Dobby was allowed work here, Dobby was giv'n special instruction to key his magiks into the wards of the castle. Dobby was told by the other house elves that Hogwarts has been under these wards for as long as it has been standing." Dobby took a bite of his sandwich, chewed as he thought more, then swallowed before speaking. "Dobby only knows as far as this, sir, but if Dobby were to guess, such things would be so old they may has been forgotten."

"That's what we're afraid of." Harry sighed, having known at least this much before now.

The current plight was ensuring that they knew how to activate any protections needed should their plans go awry. Only the staff knew such things, and even that knowledge was scattered and vague. It had been a miracle they were able to activate the wards at all to completely lock down the castle during that final battle, as well as take an offense and fight back.

"Dobby…" Harry began but then shook his head. "No, nevermind. I don't want to put you in any danger…" The wee elf perked up his ears and sat up straight from his seat by Harry's elbow.

"Whatever it is that Harry Potter needs, Dobby will do! No matter the danger! No harm will come to Harry Potter!" Dobby squeaked with feeling, Ron and Hermione trying to hush him. Harry smiled at his little friend fondly.

"I know Dobby. I don't really think that's wise of you, but I do appreciate it."

"What were you going to suggest?" Ron asked. Dobby looked expectantly to his wizard, wanting an answer as well.

Harry shifted in his seat, picking as a crisp on his plate.

"I was wondering how big of a shield Dobby could conjure, and how long he could hold it."

"A shield, sir?" Dobby asked innocently, the gears in his head clearly working out why his wizard would have need of one.

Harry nodded. "Dobby, there's…well, there's some things I need to tell you, but can't. Not yet." Harry began, sharing a quick look with his other two friends huddled at the table. "But I think that, at some point, I'll need your help. Your help in protecting the students of this school."

"Of course, Harry Potter sir! Dobby will be doing all he can!"

Harry ran a hand over Dobby's tuft of hair, very touched by the loyalty of the elf; there were not many people in his life that trusted him so completely. The now beaming elf had not even asked what he might be protecting the other children from, accepting the mission given him whole heartedly regardless.

"Dobby is capable of creating powerful shields, but they do not last very long." The elf continued, his expression clearly conveying he wanted to be honest but not disappoint the wizards and witch before him.

"To how many do you reckon you can extend the shield for?" Ron asked after thinking a moment on that bit of info.

"Dobby is not sure…Dobby was only required to perfect one big enough for his former family, in case of emergency."

Ron huffed a bit but said nothing, not wanting the elf to misinterpret his frustration of the Malfoys on himself.

"I'll have a word with Draco about it then, he may know more specifics about elf magic." Harry said, and Dobby turned to him a bit surprised.

"Harry Potter is being friends with Young Master Malfoy?" Dobby seemed to trust Draco even less than Ron at his tone.

"I am, Dobby. We've been sorting out our problems." Harry paused a second. "Does this bother you?" Harry hadn't thought it would but it was very likely his relationship with Draco would bother his former slave.

"Dobby…has no feelings on this…" the elf spoke slowly. "It was Master Malfoy who mistreated him most, not as much by Mistress nor Young Master. But Young Master is being very close from his family and their love of…" Dobby's voice lowered here, "the Dark Arts."

Ron gave Harry a look that he pointedly ignored.

"I'll keep on my toes, don't worry." Harry gave the elf a half hug, making the creature squirm in delight and snuggle into it.

"I suppose that anything written on the subject of protective wards as ancient as Hogwarts' would be privy only to the Heads of Houses, the Headmaster and perhaps the current Minister of Magic." Hermione seemed to say more to herself than the others as she shuffled though pages of A History again.

"If we can, counting on both the wards and elf magic would be a huge advantage." Then something dawned on Harry. "Ron, Bill works with all kinds of old curses and wards, right?"

Ron blinked in comprehension. "Hey, yeah, he does…"

Hermione caught on quicker. "Harry that's brilliant! The wards in Egypt must outdate Hogwarts by a thousand years or more, if anyone is to know about ancient wards, it's Bill Weasley."

"And the Goblins." Harry mused. "Perhaps this will get us better acquainted with our old friend Griphook." He said with meaning and the other two nodded.

"I'll write to Bill this afternoon." Ron agreed.

"Tell him it's for a school project," Hermione schemed, "I'll think up some specific questions you can ask, and it not appear too intrusive…" she mumbled the rest to herself, now scribbling on some spare blank parchment off to the side.

Dobby looked interested in her work, gazing wide-eyed as he munched on his own sandwich. He wasn't sure of half of what was going on, but he was happy to lend his support.

"Now then, about Snuffles…" Ron looked at Harry rather hard. "What have you decided to do?"

"I'm still working on it. I'm going to write him tonight…it's likely he's still on the…" Harry spared a momentary glance to Dobby whose attention was still primarily on Hermione as she continued to write. "…on the move. But I'm going to prepare a place for him—a safe place."

Ron accepted that, knowing this must be one of the key things on Harry's mind.

They continued to eat and simultaneously look over notes and passages for a bit in companionable silence, Harry making small talk with Dobby as well. Soon, their time together came to an end as Harry cast a glance to the old clock ticking in one of the upper corners of the room. Lunch was nearing an end and soon their private time together would be interrupted by squealing Gryffindors traipsing back in with tummys full and ready to gather their things to get the next class over with.

After bidding Dobby goodbye (and a promise to visit with him again very soon), Harry slung his pack over his shoulder and stretched, plans still running in his head at full speed. There was still a fair bit of the day left before their next class and Harry figured there was quite a bit he could do in that time.

"I know that look." Ron smirked, leaning back in his chair.

"What look?" Harry asked innocently.

"That you're Up To Something." Hermione's eyed filled with a bright mirth, her impression of Snape rather spot on (an unexpected), and the Trip laughed all the way out of the portrait hole.