Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Folly
Harry added the dragon's fang to the cauldron cautiously. He had to be careful to make sure the tip of the fang was the last part to go under the surface of the potion or else he would have to start over. He only had one beaker of the starter left after this and he didn't want to start from scratch. The whole potion could hypothetically be brewed in a single day, assuming one made no mistakes and could devote all of their time to it. Harry didn’t have that sort of time though, or that level of skill, so things had been drawn out a fair bit through the weeks.

He gazed at the potion somewhat warily counting down the seconds. Nothing happened. He let out a breath of relief. Nothing happening actually meant it had worked. The potion was done. It had certainly taken long enough.

"I'm done professor," Harry said.

Professor Snape looked up from the essays he was grading.

"How do you spell the contraction of 'they are,' Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape responded.

"Um, it's the one with the apostrophe," Harry said.

"Indeed it is," Professor Snape said. "Try to remember that when you are writing your essays."

"Are you actually grading my essay right now professor, or have you been saving that for a while now?" Harry joked a little boldly.

The professor held up the paper in front of him.

"Oh," Harry said.

"Bring up the potion," Professor Snape said. "Let's see how you have done."

Harry ladled out the potion and brought it up to the professor's desk. The man retrieved what basically looked like a paint brush made with silky fine silver bristles, which he dipped into the beaker and carefully wiped the excess off on the rim. He transferred the brush to his other hand and pulled out his wand and cast a spell on the brush. Another spell cleared off his desk and he then used the brush to paint on a symbol, about the size of a dinner plate, in the center. Harry recognized the symbol from runes class and his research into protective wards.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said. "Would you like to try to set my desk on fire?"

Harry grinned, pulling out his own wand.

"Incendio," he cast. A tongue of flame leapt from his wand towards the table where it died without touching the wood. Harry smiled at the failed spell.

Professor Snape cleared his throat and motioned for Harry to step back. "Incendio!" he all but roared. The result was the same, if with a much larger flame.

Harry just gave him a look.

"When doing an experiment, it is always good to be thorough," Professor Snape said.

"Hm, well it looks like it works," Harry said. "I guess I'll be working with Professor Flitwick from now on."

"Indeed," Professor Snape said. "And have you selected the protective charms you will be testing?"

"I have," Harry said. "I finished the writeup too, sir."

"Good," Professor Snape said. "And remember, you still have one beaker of the starter potion to finish if you want to expand the project later."

"I will, sir," Harry said. "Though those last stages were pretty difficult. I'll probably procrastinate on that. I tend to do that a lot."

Harry looked up to the professor's face.

"You and the rest of the students in this castle, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said.

"You know, you could probably help me with the next part of the project, if you were interested. You were really good teaching that confusion charm when you covered for Professor Lupin last week."

"I could very easily teach you the charms you will be working with," Professor Snape said. "However, the point of this project is not to learn charms, it is to experiment with protective charms not normally paired with the Widow's Shield potion. Professor Flitwick is far better equipped to work with you in that regard."

"Oh," Harry said. "Right, yeah. Well… It's been fun professor, I guess I'll just clean up."

"Do be certain to give me the final writeup for review," Professor Snape said. "I will be interested to see how it goes."

"Right," Harry said. "I will. How's your project going, sir?" He started putting his ingredients away. Before putting his notebook away, he turned the pages back and crossed an item off of a list.

"It is going well," Professor Snape said. "Or as well as it can go during the school year. I won't see much progress until the summer I expect."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "You won't have all the free labor over the summer."

"No, I won't have a thousand distractions over the summer," Professor Snape said.

"Well I guess you'll have your Monday evenings free from now on," Harry said.

"My productivity shall surely rise," Professor Snape said.

"Quidditch is in a few days," Harry said leadingly.

"Indeed," said Professor Snape.

"So?" asked Harry. "Are you coming to the match?"

"Are you asking the Head of Slytherin house if he is coming to the Slytherin/Gryffindor match?" Professor Snape asked.

Harry shrugged.

"I am indeed looking forward to a Slytherin victory," Professor Snape said.

"I wouldn't put any money on it, Professor," Harry said. "Gryffindor's got it in the bag. We've been practicing so much more."

"Practice will only help you so much against Slytherin cunning," Professor Snape said.

"Oh is that what we're calling it now?" Harry asked.

Professor Snape merely raised an eyebrow.

"Well you've got the better brooms," Harry said. "I'll give you that."

Harry could have sworn Professor Snape had grimaced before saying, "May the best team win."

"I'm sure they will," Harry said. "I'll see you in class professor."

"Do be careful out there Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said. "It would be a shame if Gryffindor had to forfeit the match because its Seeker was in the Hospital Wing once more."

"I'll schedule all of my near-death experiences for after the match," Harry said on his way out.

Had Professor Snape been making a joke about Harry's frequent, sometimes match ending, trips to the hospital wing, or had he been threatening the competition? Harry couldn't tell. That was the thing with Professor Snape's humor, you weren't always sure if he was joking or not, or aware that a joke had even been made until later.

Harry found that he was a little put out to be finished with the project, or rather, the part of the project where he was working with Professor Snape. What would he have thought of that a year ago? It was pretty surreal to think of how different things were.

It would be difficult to find the right moment to talk to the man. He had hoped an opportunity to have a serious talk would come to him over the past week, and now he was done with the project and all of the good opportunities were wasted. The moment had just never felt right.

Harry stopped walking towards the common room. It probably wasn't ever going to feel right; it was just an awkward conversation to have. He really just needed to get it over with so he could stop worrying about it. Harry did an about face and started walking back to the potions lab going over how to start this conversation in his head. He knocked on the door before he let himself in.

"Did you forget something Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape asked.

"No, I…" Harry said. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something. It's a little awkward but I figured it wasn't going to get less awkward, so I thought I'd just do it now."

Professor Snape eyed him appraisingly. "Go on then," he said.

"Right," Harry said. "Well you see the thing is, um… There's something I think you should know, and I feel like I should tell you, but if I tell you you're going to have, like, this one really big question, and I have to tell you beforehand that I'm not going to answer it."

"Are you asking if I still would want to know this bit of information if it will only raise questions I won't have answered?" Professor Snape asked.

"Well yeah" Harry said. "That and I was hoping you'd promise not to press the issue if I tell you."

Professor Snape's eyes pierced into Harry's for a moment before the man said, "Very well."

"Right, so…" Harry found all of his pre-rehearsed lines leaving his head. "You see I got a letter this summer. It had been written when I was a baby and left with a service that would send it when I turned thirteen. It was from my mother, she'd written it just in case, you know? She talked about… well a lot of things really, but she talked about how she found out she was a witch and about a friend she had had growing up."

Harry heard a small sharp intake of breath from the professor and realizing that he had been looking more at the ground than at the professor, Harry looked up to see a very controlled look on the man's face.

There was a moment's pause.

"Um…yeah, so, she mentioned you, and that you'd been really close friends and that you'd had a… falling out. She said that you'd apologized the next day but that it had been the end of your… um… friendship. So the thing is, in the letter she said that she forgave you like, right then and there, when you apologized but, and this is the thing you can't ask about, she said she couldn't tell you, then or ever. But after reading the letter I think… I know she would have wanted you to know if she knew you today. She spoke, um… fondly of you. I could tell that she still missed you when she wrote it, and that she was worried about you because of the war, but she was very hopeful that you were… alright. And I think she'd be happy to know that you were."

Harry was looking at the ground again. He looked up at the professor who hadn't made a sound. The man had that blank look on his face, the one he had worn earlier in the school year, the one that had disappeared when he'd really started getting on with the man.

"I see," Professor Snape said. "If that is all Mr. Potter, then it would be best for you to be along. Curfew is soon upon us and I'm sure you have homework that needs your attention."

"Professor?" Harry asked.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said.

"Good evening, Professor," Harry said, turning around and walking out the door.

Well that had been odd. Though the man had hardly looked very happy with what Harry had told him, Harry found himself wondering just how much Professor Snape might still think of Harry's mother. It had been over fifteen years since they had been friends, but the man had clearly been affected by what Harry had told him.

"Did it work out?" Hermione asked as he walked into the common room. "Or are you going to have to use the last batch of starter?"

"Hey mate," Ron said.

"Hey," Harry said. "It worked."

"You almost sound disappointed," Ron said before lowering his voice. "You should just tell him about the you-know-what. It's obvious that you're getting on well enough. If you like him enough that you're disappointed not to be stuck in the dungeons more than necessary, then I think you can survive the summer with him."

"I haven't finished yet," Harry mumbled. "And I haven't even decided whether to tell him or not."

"What haven't you finished?" Hermione asked as Ron spoke over her.

"What's there to decide?" Ron asked. "It's been another couple of weeks and guess what, they haven't found any of those Death Eaters. Now I hope you can stay over at the Burrow. That would be awesome. But you need a guaranteed safe place to stay. The guy who keep's trying to save your life seems like a great candidate to make sure you don't get mauled by a mad werewolf over the summer."

"I just need to be sure," Harry said.

"Which brings me back to my question," Hermione said.

"It's nothing," Harry said.

"It's not nothing," Hermione said. "How are you making sure?"

"I just…" Harry said. "Look, I think it would be fair to say that I'm never really acting quite myself when I'm around Professor Snape, right? So what if over the summer he really gets to know me and he really really doesn't like me?"

"What are you even talking about?" Ron asked exasperatedly.

"I'm just making sure that the professor gets to know me, you know," Harry said. "So that way if he doesn't like me I can know now and then I won't say anything."

"Don't be daft," Ron said. "The problem before was that he hated you when he didn't know you. The more he's gotten to know you, the better you get on."

"I just need to be sure," Harry said.

"When did this become the get-Snape-to-love-me mission?" Ron asked, still keeping his voice low while they were in the common room. "I thought this was the make-sure-I-don't-die-this-Summer mission. It's great if he really starts to care about you, and you can have whatever paternal relationship thing that works, but I thought the focus was making sure you had a safe place to stay where you don't have bars on your window and no one's knocking you around. We can worry about the rest after we've taken care of that part. The offer's still on the table you know. If he's horrible we'll just kidnap you and you won't have to deal with it. Promise."

"Yeah, well what if I don't want to go through that again?" Harry asked.

"Go through what?" Hermione asked.

"Look," Harry said. "If he doesn't like Harry Potter his student that's fine. But if he doesn't like Harry Potter his son… I've been through the whole, my-family-hates-me thing enough. I can deal with him not liking me after he gets to know me, but if he knows I'm his son and I move in with him and then he realizes it was a mistake, and he winds up hating me… No. No way, if he can't like me when he gets to know me as his student then I won't give him the chance to hate me as his son."

"But he does seem to like you Harry," Hermione said. "What do you think he's going to find out about you that's going to make him hate you?"

Harry shrugged.

"I just have to make sure," Harry said.

"Is this why you insist on wearing your worst robes to the potions lab?" Hermione asked. "Are you trying to put yourself in the worst light?"

"What?" Harry asked. "No. Do you know how many times my cauldron's blown during this project? That's purely practical." Though it was somewhat true, if he was being honest with himself.

"You wear good robes to potions class," Hermione said.

"I wear my worst good robes to potions class," Harry said. "I can't get away wearing last year's worst robes to classes, McGonagall would kill me. It's nice to have nice clothes you know. You may not have to worry about your cauldron exploding, but us lesser mortals need to make sure we have something decent to wear for the whole school year. You care way too much about what I wear."

"Ughh," Ron said. "Enough about robes. Harry, just try to finish up and make your decision. In all honesty the suspense is killing me."

"What?" Harry asked.

"I've been waiting to see the look on Snape's face when he finds out he's a dad for weeks now. Honestly, he's going to go from the scowling bat of the dungeons to gobsmacked like that," said Ron with a snap of his fingers.

"Woah," Harry said. "If I decide to tell him, I'm not going to do it while you're there with a bag of popcorn."

"What do you mean I can't be there?" Ron asked scandalized. "I was going to get a camera from Creevey."

"…Prat," Harry said when he realized that Ron was having him on.

"Tosser," Ron said.

"Honestly," Hermione said. "Can we take this seriously."

"Yes," Ron said. "In all seriousness, can you just imagine the look on his face?"

Seriously, Harry could; he could imagine a million different ways for that conversation to play out. Though most of them didn't end well.

"Really Ronald," Hermione said, sounding a bit like Mrs. Weasley.

"Enough being serious," Ron said. "We just had a big serious conversation. Harry's going to do whatever he needs to do, and we're probably not going to talk him out of it, so why don't we finish this homework. A couple friends of mine decided to talk me into taking Arithmancy and I was too nice to tell them to go dunk their heads in the lake."

"Did you already start the essay?" Harry asked.

"Not without you mate," Ron said. "We suffer together."


IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII


"You are especially pensive tonight Severus," the headmaster said.

He should have canceled tea, or rather, he should have kept occluding; completely immersed himself.

"I have much on my mind," Severus said.

"Coming from you, that is saying something," the headmaster said. "Perhaps it would help to talk about it."

"It does not bear discussing," Severus said.

"Perhaps," the headmaster said. "Tell me then, how is your project progressing."

"Well enough," Severus said. "I've established that there is a reaction with the taproot, but so far tests have been inconclusive. I am starting to think there might be a lunar affect."

"The moon has been governing much in our lives lately," the headmaster said.

"Too much," Severus said.

"And how fares Harry's potions project?" The headmaster asked.

"He has finished brewing," Severus said. "He is moving on now to work with Filius, and none too soon."

"I had rather gotten the feeling that you had come to tolerate Mr. Potter's presence well," the Headmaster said.

"I tolerate it just fine," Severus said.

There was a pause in the room as the two men sipped their tea.

"She wrote him a letter," Severus said. "Lily."

"Did she indeed?" the headmaster asked.

"She wrote about me," Severus said. "She had arranged for it to be delivered on his thirteenth birthday."

"She wrote about you?" the headmaster asked.

"Among other things presumably," Severus said. "Mr. Potter decided that there was something she would have wanted me to know."

"Indeed," the headmaster said. "And what he had to say has upset you."

"I think he thought it would be a comfort," Severus said. "He said she had forgiven me, that the words that ended our friendship, she forgave me for then and there."

"And this was not a comfort?" the headmaster asked.

"It begs the question," Severus said.

"Why she did not tell you this herself then and there?" the headmaster asked.

Severus nodded.

"He prefaced the conversation by explaining that there would be such an obvious question and that he would not answer it," Severus said. "A misguided attempt to pass along this message while sparing my feelings."

"You presume to know why?" the headmaster asked.

"Of course I know why," Severus said. "She didn't trust me. She may have forgiven me, but she saw the path I was going down better than I. I was going where she could not follow. She made the right choice where I am concerned."

"I think she saw the path better than you may think," the headmaster said. "Lest, why did she include you in this letter. Why do you think Mr. Potter decided to pass on this message?"

Severus was silent.

"Perhaps he has seen the path you walk and decided that you deserved to hear this message of forgiveness," the headmaster said.

"Unfortunately, she is not here to forgive me my gravest mistakes," Severus said.

"And you do not think that she would?" the Headmaster asked.

Severus was silent once more. He sipped his tea to avoid eye contact with the old man.

"Do you think that this has anything to do with why Mr. Potter decided to do this potions project?" the headmaster asked. "Perhaps he has been trying to find a connection to his mother through you."

"If he is looking for connection he would have better luck with the sentimental werewolf down the hall," Severus said. "I must presume that the letter mentions the man."

"Yet he has gone to you," the headmaster said.

"The boy is purely bizarre," Severus said. "It isn't just that he's decided to… befriend me."

"Indeed?" the headmaster asked, his silver bushy eyebrows rising.

"He's been inserting these odd confessionals into conversations over the past two weeks," Severus said.

The boy was rather clumsy about it too. He tried to make it seem a natural part of the conversation, but he always would glance at Severus as though he was gauging his reaction.

"Confessionals you say?" the headmaster asked.

"Little things," Severus said. "Personality flaws, bad habits. He just brings something up and then waits to see what I think."

"And what do you think?" the headmaster asked.

"I think he's testing me somehow," Severus said. "Though for what, I cannot fathom."

It was odd that a boy of thirteen should have such a list in his head.

"Time will tell," the headmaster said and now it was his turn to have a pensive look about him, though it was gone quickly. "Rookwood has been spotted in Bosnia."

Severus was brought out of his musings with that news.

"They are searching for the Dark Lord," Severus said.

"It is the most likely explanation," the headmaster said.

Severus grimaced. "What can they do if they do find him?" he asked.

"With the right resources they could return him to his full power," the headmaster said. "There is more than one ritual that I know Riddle is aware of that could reconstitute a body for him."

"What will we do?" Severus asked.

"We will give Harry the best chances of surviving and fulfilling his role in the prophesy," the headmaster answered.


IIIIIIIIIIIII


Wormtail scurried across the dark castle grounds towards the forbidden forest. An owl hooted in the cold night air and Wormtail froze, his ears listening for the sound of wings in flight. There was nothing and he continued on, trying to go as fast as his small legs would let him. The trees were getting closer. He would be safe in the cover of their shadows.

Wormtail transformed into Peter when he was safely within the forest. He pulled out his wand and looked about nervously. The shadows of the trees flickered as a patchy cloud moved across the waning gibbous moon, their shifting movement sending a shiver down Peter's spine.

"What happened?!" Greyback growled angrily behind him.

Peter yelped and spun around, finding the feral wizard had been right behind him. He took an involuntary step back, and then another voluntary one.

"He didn't go for the bait," Wormtail said.

"I told you to forget the bait," Greyback said. "I told you you weren't going to be able to lure him out of the castle, your job was to take him while he slept and bring him to me. Why would you think you could lure the boy out of the castle on the night of the full moon?"

"I didn't try to lure him out of the castle, I tried to lure him out of the common room," Peter said. "I need to maintain my cover. I can't just drag the boy's body out of that bloody portrait and expect no one to see me."

"You have a wand you coward," Greyback snarled. "If someone sees you, you kill them. Are you afraid to face children?"

"I can't draw attention to the tower," Peter said. "That would draw attention to me."

"You should fear less the old fool who runs this school," Greyback growled, stalking closer to Peter. "And fear more the man who would gladly kill you tonight, you useless rat."

"N-No," Peter said. "Wait, y-you need me. I'm your man inside."

"And what use are you to me on the inside if you won't do as I say?" Greyback asked.

"Polyjuice Potion!" Peter exclaimed desperately. "I can get you Polyjuice Potion."

"So you're a potions master now are you?" Greyback sneered.

"I don't have to be," Peter said. "Snape's notorious for stockpiling potions like that. He'll have some in his private stores. You could take the place of one of his friends and lure him out onto the grounds right before the moon rises. If you took the place of one of the Weasley twins, you could even get him through the tunnel. Potter would think little of them telling him they wanted to show him a secret tunnel. A very light confundus would easily go undetected and make him forget that it was the full moon and ignore any behavioral oddities."

"You think you can steal it, then?" Greyback said.

He had too.

"I can," Peter said. "F-few know the secrets of the castle as I do."

"One month," Greyback said. "I expect to have Potter one month from now. Do you understand."

"I do," Peter was quick to say. "I do."


IIIIIIIIIIIIIII


"Scabbers!" Ron cried out joyously, waking up Harry and from the sounds of it, the rest of the dormitory.

"You find him?" Harry asked drowsily looking at the clock. Fifteen minutes to go until wakeup, he could have slept another fifteen minutes.

"Yeah," Ron said happily. "He's just curled up at the foot of my bed."

"No noise till the alarm goes off," Seamus said testily.

"Sorry," Ron said, dismissively.

Harry knew he wouldn't get back to sleep then, but he did try. They had stayed up a bit late the night before, finishing homework, only to go up to the dorm that night to find Scabbers was missing. They had spent a good bit of time searching for the rat before turning in. Ron had been nearly inconsolable, convinced that the rodent had crawled away somewhere to die. Harry was glad that the tragedy had been averted, but judging by how poorly Scabbers had looked lately, he rather thought it was just a matter of time. Rats weren't meant to live that long. The specter of death seemed to hover over the dilapidated rat, and Ron had been worried since the start of term. Perhaps it would have been better if Scabbers had never come back.

Harry drifted in between wakefulness and sleep for fifteen minutes until the alarm went off. The third year Gryffindor boys took a bit longer getting ready for the day that morning. Rather, the Gryffindor boys besides Ron. His chipper spirits seeming to have made him a morning person all of a sudden. Harry and Ron found Hermione reading one of her large tomes in the common room.

"What took you so long?" Hermione asked.

"It took a bit to get going this morning," Harry said.

Hermione quizzed them on Arithmancy on their way down to breakfast, which cured Ron of his chipper spirit. There was supposed to be a test that day.

"Hey Harry," Angelina said from a few seats down as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. "Check out the weather forecast for Saturday."

Harry found a copy of the Daily Prophet being passed from student to student down from Angelina until it reached him. He took a moment to find the weather seer's predictions.

"A heavy rainstorm," he said with a sigh. Angelina was going to get her wish. Slytherin wouldn't be happy, the weather would favor Gryffindor. Though Harry couldn't really find much cheer in that, he hated flying in the rain.

"Looks like we'll be creaming Slytherin on Saturday," he said more loudly and with more bravado than he felt as he passed the paper back down towards Angelina.

"That's what I like to hear in the morning," Woods voice called out a few more spaces down. "Keep up that spirit Harry."

Hermione continued quizzing them on Arithmancy as they walked to Defense, the first class of the day. It was a double lesson that day, though Harry didn't mind. Double Defense was way better than double Potions, no matter how well he was getting on with Professor Snape. They were working on counters to minor jinxes at the moment, the ones you couldn't just finite, and there were a lot of them. Harry's drive to do well in defense hadn't gone down, though it was a lot nicer now that he didn't think he had something to prove to the professor, but he still thought he had something to prove to himself. It had been months, and he could still clearly remember the feeling of casting a spell that had utterly failed when he had needed it the most.

After defense was double Transfiguration. He didn't think he would ever need to turn a teacup into a nematode, but he still managed a decent nematode by the end of the two hours. Unfortunately, Hermione felt that lunch would make an excellent study session, and Harry barely managed to scarf down any food before he was dragged to the Arithmancy classroom where he and Ron were drilled on the subject before the bell rang and students started trickling in. The test went well though. Harry was actually pretty pleased about it. For the first time he felt like he was actually catching up in Arithmancy. He was still struggling with Ancient Runes, but he did feel like he was getting there.

The last class of the day was Charms. Once more, Harry wasn't sure why he needed to know how to make feathers dance, but it was sort of fun, and he found himself catching on to the spell pretty quickly. He stayed after to talk to Professor Flitwick about his project. They arranged to meet Wednesday after classes to start working on it. Harry found Ron and Hermione waiting for him outside of the classroom and they made their way to the library before dinner. It wasn't long though before Harry felt the effects of his rushed lunch and the trio found themselves heading downstairs.

Harry hadn't made it two steps into the Great Hall however when he was dragged away by an upset Oliver Wood.

"Emergency Quidditch meeting," Oliver said.

"But dinner," Harry said, looking at the laden tables.

"The twins are getting some food right now," Oliver said. "Come on, the girls are waiting for us."

"Ollie, we don't need an emergency Quidditch meeting," Harry said, trying to keep up with the much taller boy’s long stride. "We're ready, we're going to kick butt on Saturday."

"We're not ready," Oliver said. "It's all gone to hell and we're going to have to scramble if we're going to be ready."

"What's wrong," Harry asked as they walked into an unused office where Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were transfiguring some furniture that would be appropriate for a quidditch meeting. "Is someone not going to be able to play on Saturday? Are we subbing in someone new?"

"Everyone's fine Harry," Katie said. "Oliver's just overreacting a bit."

"When isn't he," Fred said, walking into the room with a tray of sandwiches. George was right behind with pumpkin juice and crisps.

"I'm not overreacting," Oliver said. "We need to take this seriously."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Slytherin backed out of the game," Fred said. "We're playing Hufflepuff."

"Slytherin forfeit?" Harry asked skeptically.

"They didn't have to," Oliver said darkly.

"Let's start from the beginning," Alicia said.

"Flint got the rest of the captains together during lunch today," Oliver said. "Told us Pucey's come down with Dragon Pox and won't be able to play on Saturday. He said, 'it would be a shame if we had to forfeit for something out of our control,'" Oliver said, doing a trollish impression of Marcus Flint. "He wanted Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff to take their place, so it would be 'fair'."

"No," Harry said incredulously.

"Yes," George said. "That new puff captain said Hufflepuff would take Slytherin's place."

"I can't believe Pucey came down with the pox right before the game though," Alicia said.

"I can't believe it either," Oliver said. "There haven't been any Hogsmeade weekends, and the castle's all but completely isolated. Where'd he catch it from?"

"Oh they're probably faking it," Fred said.

"There's a few potions you can use to fake the symptoms," George said. "If no one had taken the match for them, Pucey could have just had a speedy recovery in time for the match."

"Alright," Harry said. "That sucks, but it's not the end of the world."

"Yes it is," Oliver said. "We've been training to play Slytherin; the 'puffs have completely different tactics. And we had the advantage. Slytherin hasn't been practicing much in the rain, we have, and so has Hufflepuff. What's worse, Diggory's been getting his team ready to play Ravenclaw and Ravenclaw's a lot closer to our style than Hufflepuff is to Slytherin."

"Oliver," Kattie said. "I can assure you, Hufflepuff hasn't been practicing near as much in the rain as we have."

"Yeah, don't worry Ollie, no one does crazy like Gryffindor does crazy," George said. "Just get out the play book and let's start going over our Hufflepuff strategy."

"And someone pass Harry one of those sandwiches," Angelina said. "He's been eying them since you brought them in."

It was a long time before they left for the common room that night.


IIIIIIIIIIIII


Harry had been nervous on the way to Potions the next day. Things had been a bit weird with the professor when he had last seen him. He needn't have worried though, Professor Snape was his usual self. Or rather, usual for this year. It wasn't until after class when they had a study period that Harry started worrying about Professor Snape again. Hermione brought it about.

"I found a potion that might be useful," Hermione said.

"Werewolf repellant?" Ron asked.

"A lineage potion actually," Hermione said, giving Harry a significant look. "It's used to identify someone's parents. Since you can't show Professor Snape the letter, I thought you could use the potion when you tell him."

"If I tell him," Harry reminded her.

"If you tell him," Hermione agreed. "It could be useful. It is a little difficult, but you could make it easily enough."

"What about that adoption ritual though?" Ron asked. "Harry's dad did that thing to make him like the third parent. Would that mess with the lineage potion."

Hermione thought for a moment.

"I guess we'll just have to see," she said. "I know you're busy this week Harry, but we could brew it next week as a test."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I guess we could."

"Are you ready to work on your project with Professor Flitwick after class today?" Hermione asked.

"I am," Harry said. "And then I've got quidditch after dinner. I'm not going to have much time to do homework tonight."

"Well everything due tomorrow is already done," Hermione said. "But let's try to finish that essay for Transfiguration before the end of the study period."

"Fifteen bloody inches," Ron mumbled.

Oliver had decided to practice with four bludgers the night before and Harry was still sore from a couple of hits. He probably should have seen Madame Pomfrey, but Harry had been more concerned with getting back to the dormitory so he could check the status of the charm that was keeping him from bleeding to death on the inside after bludger hits like that. It did turn out to be holding, but Harry had had to renew it once more, as it hadn't been holding very strong.

Now though, he was working with the fourth-year defense study group practicing a binding jinx, and subsequently having one practiced upon him, and he found his sore spots really tender.

"You alright there Harry?" Anna asked.

"A little sore from quidditch yesterday," Harry said. "But I'm alright."

"Well I think we've got this jinx down pretty well, do you want to move on to something else?" Anna asked.

"Sure," Harry said. "What did you want to practice?"

"How about the banishing charm?" Anna asked.

"We learned that last year in charms," Harry said.

"I've been to dueling tournaments, and I've seen duelists banish objects into the path of spells," Anna said. "It's tricky though, you have to have a lot of control, and be very fast, but if you get good at it, you can save yourself a lot of energy."

"Oh, alright," Harry said. "That sounds tricky. Have you tried it before?"

"Not with someone shooting spells at me," Anna said.

"Right," Harry said. "Let's give it a shot then."

Anna summoned some pillows and left them strewn about the floor around her.

"What should I use?" Harry asked.

"Stinging hex," Anna said. "Gives me an incentive to try really hard, but we don't have to pause between hits."

"How fast do you want me to go?" Harry asked.

"How bout you start slow and we'll work from there," Anna said.

Alright," Harry said. "Ready?"

"Ready," Anna said.

Harry cast the stinging hex.

"Ow," Anna quietly said a moment before a pillow sailed through where the hex might have traveled.

"Um," Harry said.

"Keep going," Anna said.

There were quite a few more 'ow's over the next few minutes, and, just in Harry's head, one anthropomorphized 'ow' as one pillow blocked the hex.

"My, my, and last week you couldn't even stun her," Benjamin said coming up to the two of them. He was a bit flushed, having spent the practice time dueling his friend with both magic and muggle fighting.

"We've created a monster," Anna said. "He's been doing terrible things to me; but now the tables have turned and it's his turn to practice the banishing charm."

"Um," Harry said. "I'll try, but I'm pretty sure I don't have that much control over the charm yet."

"You'll have plenty of incentive," Anna said wickedly.

Harry practiced banishing a couple of pillows towards where he imagined an incoming hex would be. His confidence did not improve.

"Okay," Harry said. "Let's try it."

"Actually," Anna said, seeming to take pity. "How about you practice banishing a bit before next week. It's getting a bit late."

"Probably for the best," Harry said.

"Have you gotten enough of your fisticuffs, Benjie?" Anna asked. She had always treated it like a hoby rather than a defensive skill.

"Well, I've gotten enough for now," Benjamin said. "Although I won’t be satisfied until I get a chance to punch a Death Eater. I’ll just have to hope one pops up, perhaps next week."

"I think you'd be better off cursing one," Anna said.

"Oh, but what if I've lost my wand?" Benjamin asked.

"Probably best not to antagonize them then," Anna said.

"Well let's say Harry here is actually a Death Eater in disguise and he has me at wandpoint," Benjamin says, nodding at Harry. It takes Harry a moment to realize that he is expected to point his wand at Benjamin. "See now, my wand's in my pocket, and by the time I've drawn it and thought of something to do with it, Harry's already cursed me. Harry, however is so confident in the relative power balance, wherein he comes out on top because he is the only one holding a wand, that he has forgotten that we are too close to one another and spells actually take time to cast. So suppose Harry starts to cast a spell…"

Benjamin looked expectantly at Harry who realized that he was actually expected to attack him.

"Tarantall…" Harry got out before Benjamin was very much in his personal space and his wand arm was quickly locked up in an awkward position with only the older boys hand twisting his wrist.

"Of course all I really need to do is disrupt the wand motion briefly and get a strike in to the windpipe or the nose. It's hard to pronounce spells properly with a broken nose," Benjamin said, releasing Harry who shook out his wrist. "If you know what you're doing, the safest place to be when you're faced with an armed wizard, while you are not, is right in front of him. Now if Harry here were on the other side of the room, I'd be a bit screwed, but Harry would take a bit longer to aim and I might have time to duck for cover and pull my own wand."

"Are you coming Anna?" a Ravenclaw girl called out. "I don't want to fall asleep trying to finish our project tonight."

"Coming," Anna called out. "I'll see you two. Night."

"Night," both boys said.

Benjamin looked a bit put out with Anna's sudden departure.

"Too bad I couldn't do that with a real Death Eater," Harry said.

"Why not?" Benjamin asked, turning his attention back to Harry.

"Well, you know," Harry said. "'Cause I'm like this," he said gesturing to himself. "And they're like this," he said holding his hand high above his head. No better able to protect himself when he was thirteen than before Hogwarts.

"Doesn't matter," Benjamin said. "Disrupt, disarm, disable, that's what you need to do, and you don't need to be stronger than them. Say I'm Snape, and I've finally decided to do you in."

Harry grimaced for the choice of the scenario.

"I've drawn my wand on you," Benjamin said. "You come in, disrupt the spellcasting, take my wand and drop me."

"Oh right," Harry said. "That's all. Wish I'd thought of that before."

"Well it's like before," Benjamin said. "I didn't actually use much strength to get you into that wristlock. Most moves like that involve redirecting your opponent’s movements, using their momentum against them. Once you're in a wristlock, you're basically at my mercy. Let me see your hand."

Harry very reluctantly held out his arm.

"So, see, I take you back to where I just had you while you were the Death Eater, and now with just a small twist, your fingers involuntarily uncurl, and you drop your wand. Hardly any strength at all."

Harry's hand involuntarily let go of his wand which clattered to the floor.

"I twist a little bit more," Benjamin said.

Harry suddenly found himself standing on his tiptoes as his body reacted and tried to get his immobilized arm back into a position where it didn't feel like it was about to be ripped off, which was odd, since it didn't actually hurt per se.

Benjamin let go.

"From that position it's pretty easy to get someone face down on the ground," Benjamin said. "Even if they've got six stone on you."

"So you think I could do that with a Death Eater?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Well sure," Benjamin said. "With a lot of practice."

"What if they've grabbed you?" Harry asked. "Or they're like, on top of you, say."

"Well grappling’s a bit different," Benjamin said. "But there's some things you can use depending on the situation. Size does matter a bit there, but if you know what you're doing, and they don't, you've got a decent chance. A lot of wizards sort of think that hand to hand combat is pretty muggle, so they dismiss it. Don't do with your hands what you can do with your wand, you know."

"That's pretty cool," Harry said as by unspoken agreement they both headed out of the classroom and back to Gryffindor tower. "I wish I'd known some of that over the summer."

"I could teach you some," Benjamin said.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Harry said.

"It's no problem," Benjamin said. "I don't get to practice enough anymore anyhow."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Benjamin said. "How ‘bout Sunday, after lunch."

"That'd be great," Harry said. "Thanks."

"It's cool," Benjamin said. "So are we ready to beat Hufflepuff on Saturday?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Though don't expect it to be a quick game. It's going to be storming and the snitch's going to be pretty hard to find."

"I really wish you were playing Slytherin," Benjamin said. "That was going to be a good game."

Yeah, a great game in a storm.

"Hufflepuff's got a pretty good team this year," Harry said. "Not as good as we are mind, but it's not going to be too one sided."

"I can't believe that snake caught the pox," Benjamin said.

"Yeah, well, we'll just be doubly prepared to play them when we do," Harry said.

"Oy, Harry," the voice of one of the twins called out from behind them. Harry turned around.

"Emergency quidditch meeting," George said.

"Again!" Harry said. "We just had an emergency quidditch meeting over dinner. And let me tell you, Flemming's halfway decent attempt at a Prisoner's Feint during the Puff's practice isn't an emergency."

"No time to explain," Fred said, before veritably dragging Harry off.

"But homework," Harry's protest fell on deaf ears. He gave a forlorn wave to Benjamin.

The three of them were soon in an unused lecture hall. They were the only ones there.

"Ok, so, quidditch meeting, or secret meeting?" Harry asked.

The twins both grinned at him.

"We have a prototype," George said.

"Want to try it out? Fred asked.

"Am I your guinea pig?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Oh we've worked the kinks out," George said.

"Painfully," Fred said.

"But we've got it down pat now," George said.

"Alright," Harry said. "I'm game."

Fred held up a pair of cloth gloves that Harry put on. He looked at the twins expectantly.

"Well," Harry said. "Let's see it then."

"That's it," Fred said, gesturing to the gloves which Harry had assumed had been for protection, as the twins had always worn gloves when he had seen them working on the project. Harry looked at his hands. They didn't look like anything special.

"Or rather," George said. "That's all you really need, but there's going to be more. We'll explain."

"Right," Harry said. "Cool, ok so how does it work?"

"It's very simple," George said. "Approach the wall or whatever obstacle is in front of you, stick out your hand and just walk through."

"But you've actually got to think about going through the wall," Fred said. "You need both elements of intent, the action and the target."

"That's a bit of a safety really," George said. "You really don't want to accidentally go through anyone."

"Yeah," Harry said. "That would be weird."

"Actually it could kill them," Fred said, looking about as serious as Harry had ever seen him outside of the end of second year.

"What?" Harry asked, looking down at the gloves again with apprehension and moving his hands away from his body, being careful not to touch himself with them.

"Remember when we said that we're basically disassembling everything in our path and telling it to reassemble itself once we're through?" George asked.

Harry nodded.

"Well we don't exactly have the spell work precise enough, so everything gets put back together exactly perfectly," Fred said.

"Which is fine for walls and stuff," George said.

"But if it's a living thing that has, you know, cells, and capillaries and nerves and whatnot," Fred said.

"Not getting put back just right tends to make it all not work at all," George said.

"But no worries," Fred said. "You could punch Malfoy in the face while wearing that glove and as long as you aren't thinking, 'I want this glove to go through his head,' you're good."

"Though best not to chance it," George said. "Just make sure you're not wearing the gloves when you punch Malfoy."

Harry wondered what they would say if it were Malfoy senior, who had given Ginny the diary.

"So it's safe?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Fred said at the same time that George said, "Mostly."

The two brothers gave each other an odd look.

"Right," Harry said. "So I can just go through that wall right there."

"Go ahead," George said. "We've already tested it."

"Some walls have wards up," Fred said. "Like just about everything in the dungeons. So don't try to go too quickly through walls you haven't been through before."

"Yeah," George said. "No swan dives through new walls."

Harry wondered just which walls the twins had tried to get through in the dungeons.

"Go on then," Fred said, pointing to the wall.

"Don't lock your elbow," George advised. "If you don't go through, for some reason, you want to be able to brace yourself."

"And remember," Fred said. "You're basically going through a hole in the wall. So everything going in has to follow something else. If you've only got one glove on and you put one hand through, you can't just put you other hand on the wall a couple feet away and expect it to go through. We'll have something for the tips of your shoes in a bit, so be careful how you walk. It's best for your body to follow through. Don't bang your knee or anything."

That was a lot to think about, actually.

Harry walked to the wall with his hands outstretched. He focused on walking through the wall, though it was more like leaning forward until he thought he was through past his waist and stepping forward. It didn't feel like walking through the barrier at Kings Cross, which felt like walking through nothing at all. The barrier, Hermione had explained with no prompting at all, wasn't actually a wall, but rather an illusion over a ward. Using the twin's invention, though, it felt like walking through a wall of water, only it didn't feel wet.

He found himself in another classroom. He turned around and walked back through the wall. The twins were grinning at him. He grinned back.

As it turned out though, there was about a five-minute safety lecture next that Harry felt was a bit out of character for the twins, but he supposed they probably hadn't ever invented something that could easily kill someone. Though Harry hadn't needed to be told not to dive through the floor.

"We think we can manage something that will let whatever part of you you want start the hole. Like a bracelet you wear and then you can stick you head through a wall if you like, but that's a way's away," George said. "In the meantime we're making a bunch of patches you can put on your shoes or the hood of a cloak or your shoulders. Just so you have options."

"So," Fred asked. "Got any plans?"

Harry sometimes thought the twins mistook his penchant for rule breaking and adventure for a fondness for mischief.

"Well next time someone tries to kidnap me I'm going to dive through a wall and hope they try to do the same," Harry said, at a loss for thinking up something that would impress the twins.

"Well fair warning," George said. "If you're tempted to stroll into the Slytherin common room, that wall's warded."

"Oh getting in there was easy enough," Harry boasted.

"You infiltrated Slytherin," Fred asked.

"Ron never mentioned?" Harry asked.

"No," George said. "Do tell."

"Oh it's not that interesting really," Harry said. "See you tomorrow."

Harry dove through the nearest wall and made his escape with a grin while the twins called out demanding explanations.


IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII


The promised storm had come, and quidditch was not canceled for mere weather. The sun was still up, and would be for another couple of hours, but the thick roiling clouds looked black under the lights over the pitch casting the rest of the grounds in darkness. The team's warmups had left them felling pretty chilled as they listened to Oliver's pep talk in the co-ed section of the locker rooms. Oliver of course didn't look put out by the weather at all. He looked a bit nervous, but he would be happy playing alongside a tornado.

"… and don't forget," Oliver was nearly shouting. "They wanted to take Slytherin's place, so we're going to give them everything we were saving for Slytherin. Now let's go out there and win this thing."

"Don't worry Ollie, we've got this game in the bag," Angelina said confidently.

They all got off the benches and walked to the entrance, brooms in hand. They could hear the wind blowing outside as they listened for Lee Jordan to announce them.

"Now Harry," Fred said. "We'll be rather put out if you let someone try to kill you this year."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm sure Greyback's just been waiting till now to attack. Right when I'm surrounded by hundreds of people."

"A precedence has been set," George said.

"Every year during the first game someone tries to off you," Fred said.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was determined that he would have a normal quidditch match, and furthermore he was determined that he wouldn't be visiting the hospital wing again this year. He was relatively confident that no one should be trying to kill him within the next few hours at least. Still though, he had recast the Sang Vitalis Charm on himself right before he had headed down to the pitch, just in case.

"Actually last year was a house elf trying to get me so injured I'd be sent home so I would be safe from the basilisk," Harry said. "So you see, he wasn't trying to kill me, he was trying to save me. Though I can see how you could think otherwise."

"Wait," Fred said.

"What?" George said.

"And first on the pitch is GRYFFINDOR," Lee Jordan's magically amplified voice called out.

Harry smirked at the twins. Lee's timing had been perfect, and Harry only wished he had timed it himself, for rarely was it the twins who were flabbergasted. His expression sobered though as he turned to the pitch. Huffing at the rain, he hopped onto his broom, flying out into the storm. The Gryffindor team started circling the pitch in formation as Lee Jordan called out their names and positions, giving short blurb biographies of the players. Before long, the Hufflepuff team was called out and the two teams were hovering opposite each other as Oliver and Diggory shook hands. The quaffle was tossed, the bludgers and snitch released, and the players took off.

The game moved slowly, and it didn't take Harry long to feel dragged down by his drenched robes, frozen limbs, and the ever so slight tug of the dementors patrolling the walls in the distance. Harry rather wished he could catch the snitch quickly and get back to the castle, though he might as well wish that they were allowed to charm their robes for warmth, it was unlikely he would be spotting the snitch in this weather; the lights that illuminated the pitch were refracting through raindrops causing little bits of sparkle that were vaguely reminiscent of the flash of the snitch and Harry usually relied on that flash of light to spot the little golden ball that was usually too far away for him to focus on properly. Whenever the snitch was spotted, it would be by luck. Being able to play quidditch was one of the things that Harry loved most about the wizarding world, but there were a fair few things he would change about how it was played, if he could.

The quaffle was a bit harder to throw and catch while chilled to the bone and possession of the ball changed frequently, though after the first hour Gryffindor was up by fifty points. Of course, it was still anyone's game. Harry made sure to keep Diggory in the corner of his eye while he flew. Harry's glasses were more than a bit of a hindrance in rain and if either of them was more likely to spot the snitch first it was the Diggory, he was almost tempted to just take them off. Realistically, Harry was probably going to have to rely on his skill and his faster broom if he was going to win.

Flying by the teacher's stand, Harry noticed Professor Snape observing the game. The professors of course had charms to keep the weather at bay. For whatever reason, Harry felt a renewed vigor to find the snitch.

It was another hour before Oliver called a time out. It had been some time since the players and the crowd's enthusiasm had waned. The players took shelter under the awning over the door to the locker room and Angelina cast drying charms on everyone while Oliver started giving out pointers. Harry thought he had mostly wanted a break rather than actually having anything to say to them. Gryffindor was up by seventy points and the only person who had much say on how the game went at this point was Harry, and Oliver could hardly give Harry pointers on how to see better. Though that didn't stop him from telling Harry that he needed to catch the snitch sooner rather than later. Not even Oliver, it seemed, could keep up his enthusiasm for the game in such horrible weather. Harry nodded and assured everyone he would be catching the snitch soon.

It was a half an hour later that he saw it out of the corner of his eye, zooming right past him in the exact opposite direction. Harry flipped around, his momentum carrying him backwards before he accelerated hard. It took him a moment to catch sight of the snitch again and as he did he also noticed Diggory at his ten o'clock making a sharp turn, coming around to intercept. Harry could vaguely hear the roar of the crowd in the background, new life coming into the stadium as the end of the game was in sight.

The snitch rapidly changed course as both boys approached from opposite directions, briefly shooting up before plummeting towards the ground. Harry almost thought he had lost sight of it before he saw it dropping; Diggory never stopped tracking it though and his own dive started a moment before Harry's. Their dives towards the ground were soon followed by two cracks of beaters bats and first Diggory and then Harry were dodging bludgers. The snitch was dropping straight to the ground and Harry didn't think he would catch it before it would have to level out and he wished he could see it better to gauge which direction it would soon be breaking in.

Harry's lead on Diggory was lost when another bludger cut him off, Harry had just barely seen the ball out of the corner of his eye in time to avoid it completely. He got back on track just in time to see the ball dart out towards the base of the Gryffindor stands. Harry's turn was faster than Diggory's and they were soon neck and neck. The crowd was now roaring with excitement as the two boys skimmed a few feet above the grass of the pitch, soon rocketing up and up as the snitch made a wide arc that skimmed along the base of the stands as it rocketed into the sky. Diggory wasn't far behind when another bludger caused him to swerve and the Gryffindor students were lucky that bludgers couldn't fly into the stands because otherwise it would have gone right into the crowd. He was right next to Diggory now and they were so close to the snitch.

The odd thing was though, that Harry didn't feel like he was about the catch the snitch, he didn't feel the thrill of the chase or even relief that the game was about to be over. All Harry could feel was the cold. It was so cold, as it had always been cold; he couldn't remember ever not being cold. The sun had gone down and he had failed. A woman was screaming. He was so cold, and he knew that she was warmth, but she was so far away and he couldn't help her and he would never be warm ever. He would always be cold, he would always be alone, and she was screaming until she wasn't and the cold was pierced by a malevolent high pitched laugh.

There was a brief moment of warmth before everything lurched.

He was such a freak; he had never truly understood the word until then. He shivered in the hallway, afraid to make a noise, afraid for anyone to see him ever again. It was so cold. He was such a horrible boy, he knew, and there wasn't anything Harry could think to do to change that. He didn't know how he had done it, but he had, he hadn't even taken his one opportunity to stop it. He knew now why Aunt Petunia krinkled her nose when she looked at him, why Father Christmas left him only coal, why the other children at school knew to stay away from him. They didn't need Dudley's threats, they could all see in an instant what Harry had not known until then. It would happen again. Something would. He knew now what 'unnatural' meant. He had caused this and he would cause something unnatural again. He could still see the dark look from Uncle Vernon, contempt and anger clear on his face. It would happen again unless Harry stopped it. Maybe…

Shift.

Harry briefly had the feeling of his stomach being in his throat before all he could see was a bright light as the cold was leached out of his bones and he knew that he was safe.

Shift.

It was so cold. He had never been so cold. It had always been cold. It would always be cold. His bed clothes were completely soaked. The rain mixed with the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at the handle to the backyard door, he was crying, but he knew not to make a sound. His shoulder still ached from being dragged outside. He wanted so badly to be let back in, but he knew he was dirty. He knew he would mess the floor. He shouldn't have had that water before bed.

Everything lurched and Harry felt pain all over and he briefly saw bright lights all around him as rain fell all over him. People were screaming.

Shift.

The wand was useless in his hand. He had failed and he struggled for his own life, pinned and helpless, before Ms. Adler's was violently and viscerally taken from her by that same wand. He had failed and she had died. If only she had known he was such a freak. Perhaps she would have stayed inside. Even the heat of the chase couldn't take away from the cold chill he felt. If he hadn't failed…

Shift.

He was warm. He was safe. People were screaming, everything hurt, but he knew that he would be alright. Harry blacked out.


IIIIIIIIIIIII


Harry woke up in the hospital wing. He could see outside the windows that the storm seemed to have passed and he idly wondered how long he had been out this time. As he was used to, he felt oddly very rested, like he had had a great night’s sleep. Put together with the aches and pains though and it made for an odd dichotomy.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. Harry quickly spotted his friends sitting next to his bed.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“Dementors swarmed the pitch mate,” Ron said, handing Harry a bar of chocolate that had been sitting on the nightstand. “You um… you passed out and fell off your broom.”

“What?!” Harry asked, his cheeks flaming. The whole school had seen that; he had passed out in the middle of a quidditch match! “What happened to the game though? Was it postponed, or did they sub someone in for me? How long has it been? I can go back out there, I feel alright.” The team was going to hate him, he had been so close to the damned snitch.

“Do you?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry seriously.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Do you feel alright?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry lied, trying to get up in bed. He’d worked through worse at the Dursley’s and he needed to get back to the pitch. Hermione, however, was pushing him back towards the bed.

“The match’s over mate,” Ron said. “It’s well past midnight.”

“No,” Harry said. “It can’t have been that long, I didn’t pass out for that long last time.”

“Harry you almost died,” Hermione said, very upset. “Forget about the stupid game, you fell. I think someone must have summoned you because you fell towards the bleachers instead of the ground, but you still hit very hard, and with all your injuries I thought to check, and if I hadn’t…”

Hermione broke off, very upset, Harry was worried to see tears in her eyes.

“Hermione did that test, the one for the blood charm,” Ron said.

“Did anyone see you do the charm?” Harry asked worried.

“I doubt anyone noticed,” Ron said. “I thought she was just being paranoid but it was red. You said it was supposed to last a couple years at least.”

“What?” Harry asked shocked. “No, I reapplied it right before the game.” The charm had never worn off so quickly before.

“You reapplied it?” Hermione asked. “You knew it wasn’t lasting as long as it should?”

Harry’s cheeks flamed red.

“I, I had it under control,” Harry said.

“Control?” Ron asked, gobsmacked. “You would have died if Hermione hadn’t done anything. No one would have known you were bleeding to death on the inside.”

“It’s never worn off so fast before,” Harry said.

“So it has worn off before,” Hermione said.

“It hasn’t gotten that far in a while,” Harry said. “I’ve gotten good about checking myself regularly.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“I had it handled,” Harry said.

“You clearly didn’t,” Hermione said.

Harry huffed and looked away.

“Why isn’t it lasting though?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, miserably. “One day it’s doing fine and then the next it’s just drained.”

“Why didn’t you tell us Harry?” Hermione asked. “We need to know these things in case something happens.”

Harry shrugged. “I kew if I told you you’d go tell…” Harry was suddenly panicked. “Hermione, did you tell Madame Pomfrey?"

"No," Hermione said, and now she looked worried but resolute. "But I'm going to."

"Hermione, no!" Harry said desperately. "You can't."

"I can and I will," Hermione said. "Either you go and talk to the man who's been living with this condition his whole life and ask him what's going wrong, or I talk to Madame Pomfrey. That's it."

"Yeah mate," Ron said. "Friends don't let friends bleed to death."

Harry shot Ron a panicked look, he was very surprised to find that Ron was on Hermione's side in this discussion.

"What if she figures it out?" Harry asked.

"She's not going to figure it out," Hermione said. "We talked about this, remember, and what would be so terrible if she did. She's a medical professional, she's hardly going to be going to tabloids with it."

"She'll tell Snape," Harry said.

"You're supposed to be telling Snape," Hermione said in exasperation.

"I haven't…" Harry started.

"Oh you've decided," Hermione said rolling her eyes. "You've just been putting it off."

"I have to be sure," Harry said.

"You're never going to be sure," Hermione said. "You just have to do it. Now if you don't want me to talk to Madame Pomfrey, you'll have an excellent reason to do it tomorrow, and I'm going to cast the Sang Vitalis Diagnostic on you every hour until you do."

"She's been doing it all night," Ron said.

"I'll talk to him," Harry said, surprised himself that the words had come out of his mouth. But the man would probably have answers, and Harry supposed he couldn't afford to let his hemophilia be an issue any longer.

"Good," Ron said. "He came to check up on you, you know."

"Who?" Harry asked incredulously. "Professor Snape?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Gave us a funny look, like he hadn't wanted to be seen, but then he went and talked to Madame Pomfrey. Asked her if she needed anything brewed, like she wouldn't have told him already if she were running low on something."

"You think he was here because of me?" Harry asked.

"You're not the only one who got a bit attached," Ron said with a shrug.

Harry had a hard time accepting that Professor Snape might actually like him enough to be worried about him.

"Are you really feeling alright though?" Ron asked. "That looked like a really horrible landing. You had a couple bones poking out before Madame Pomfrey got to you."

Harry grimaced at the thought of that and was very glad that he hadn't actually seen that himself.

"I'm just a bit sore," Harry said. "What happened to the game though?"

Ron looked down and Harry knew he didn't have any good news.

"We lost mate," Ron said. "Diggory caught the snitch right after you started to slow down. He tried to forfeit the win and ask for a rematch when he realized you'd fallen and whatnot, but I think even Wood agreed that it was a fair win. Quidditch doesn't stop for dementors unless someone calls for a time out. You should have seen Dumbledore though, he was something else. I've never seen him so mad. Sort of makes you realize why You-Know-Who was afraid of him. He cast this really bright charm that drove off all of the dementors."

Harry couldn't believe that he had lost. He had never lost before, and to lose like this; to be the only one who was so affected by dementors and to fail when everyone had been counting on him; he was mortified.

"Why'd they have to swarm the pitch then of all times though?" Harry asked angrily. "Weren't they restricted from the grounds?"

"I suppose all those people in one place were a bit more than they could resist," Hermione said.

"Especially when everyone got all excited you'd seen the snitch," Ron said. "Like leaving the oven door ajar when there's a roast in it."

Harry winced slightly at the mental image of himself sitting in an oven while a dementor waited outside to eat him.

"Oh," Harry said. "How's my broom? I didn't fall on it did I?"

"It started drifting in the wind," Ron said. "The twins went with a few of the Hufflepuff players to go find it before it could get across the English Channel. It should be in the dorms."

Harry hoped that that was the case.

"How mad was the team?" Harry asked, worried.

"No one was mad Harry," Hermione said. "Everyone was really worried about you."

"I really let them down," Harry said morosely, no one else was passing out around dementors.

"It's hardly your fault," Ron said.

"Yeah," Harry said, if only so he wouldn't have to hear the platitudes.

"Look," Hermione said. "You should really get some more sleep. After everything you've been through, magical healing can take a lot out of you."

Harry didn't feel tired though, but he didn't feel like arguing with Hermione then and he had a lot to think about.

"Night," Harry said. "And thanks… for you know, um, saving my life."

He'd said that way to many times in the past year.

"You're welcome," Hermione said. "Sleep well."

Harry didn't sleep for a long while and when he did, he dreamed of blood.


IIIIIIIIIII


Severus really wished he didn't have to grade essays. It wasn't really the atrocious errors the children made that made the process taxing, but rather reading about the same topic dozens of times over. A knock came at his door, breaking the tedium.

"Come in," he said.

The door cracked open slowly and a messy mop of jet black hair poked in. Severus was rather surprised to see it as the boy that had been preoccupying his mind that morning edged through the doorway. The boy had escaped the hospital wing in record time.

"Is it alright if I talk to you for a bit professor," Harry Potter asked.

"Of course," Severus said. "Is this about your project?"

"Oh," Harry said. "That's going alright, sir. I got Impervious to work with the potion. Most everything else though either just doesn't work or doesn't last, or only has a minimal effect. Professor Flitwick said most everything that works would have already been figured out and in the book, but it's fun to work out how to merge each charm with the potion and then test it, even if it doesn't work. Um, but that's not what I came down for."

The boy paused, his eyes darted about for a moment like he was looking for words.

"Was there something I could help you with?" Severus asked, having no idea where this was going.

"Yes," Harry Potter said. "You see Professor, well, that letter I told you about was really sent to let me know about a medical thing. It turns out my dad had had Hemophilia and I got it too and there's this spell that I need to renew, but…"

"You fool," Severus snapped, standing up.

The boy gapped up at him.

"I…" But the boy didn't seem to have anything else to say.

"It's taken you this long to say something?" Severus asked. "How many times have you had to recast the spell this year?"

"A few," Potter said.

"A few," Severus snarled. "You could have died. You should have died, how on earth did you survive last night?"

"Hermione thought to check," Potter said. "Do you know why it's wearing off? It isn't supposed to, not like that, but you make it sound like…"

"Different magics wear at the spell differently," Severus said, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to rein in his temper. He occluded briefly to clear his head. "Dementors tear right through it."

"Oh," Potter said. "That explains a lot actually. Ok, well I was hoping there would be a potion or something that might help."

Severus sighed.

"Wait here," he said.

Countless people working to make sure the boy lived long enough to graduate from school and he takes to dancing around his own grave. Severus walked into his storeroom and grabbed a phial. He returned to the very sheepish looking boy.

"Drink this," he commanded a bit brusquely.

The boy stared at the phial for a moment before casting his eyes down for a moment and downing the potion.

"Before the Sang Vitalis Charm was invented, there was the Sang Olaes Potion," Severus said, having now calmed down significantly. "Today is Sunday, you will return every Sunday for another dose. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Potter said, looking very grateful. "Is there anything I need to worry about besides having to retake the potion?"

"You will find yourself craving green leafy vegetables," Severus said. "Do not take anything with Taproot or Doxy wings in it. Besides that, there are no other side effects. The potion works as well as the charm but is not affected by dementors. You need no longer worry about applying the Sang Vitalis Charm. Once the school is no longer surrounded by dementors you will resume with the charm, but you will always carry a phial of the potion on you, just in case. Now would you care to explain why it has taken you this long to say anything?"

"I thought I had it under control, Sir," Harry Potter said. "I was checking myself regularly, and I figured with practice I'd get better at casting the charm and it wouldn't wear off. The letter made it sound a bit like a family secret, so I figured I'd keep it to myself. I guess I never really think things through."

Severus had never told Madame Pomfrey himself, but his own family was well versed in the illness and it's treatments and their drawbacks.

"Then it would be best if you did not feel the need to handle everything yourself," Severus said. "There are many people who are here to help you. You should utilize them. Particularly if you do not think things through."

"Oh, right," Harry Potter said. "So, um, on the train you did that spell to get rid of the dementor. What's it called?"

"It's called a patronus," Severus said. "But it is a seventh-year spell Mr. Potter. The staff will make sure that we do not have a repeat performance of last night. Stay away from the ground's perimeter and you should have no reason to come across a dementor again."

"Oh," Harry said. "Alright… So, you know, I'm only working with Professor Flitwick one day a week, and I figured, with that extra bit of free time, if you still need lab assistants for your project, I can work Saturday evenings into my schedule."

Severus was caught off guard by the offer that seemed to come out of nowhere. Again, the boy was going out of his way to work around Severus. He was aware of the classes the boy was taking, he would hardly say that the boy had much by way of free time. Why volunteer? The boy was an enigma. Then again, he had not been overwhelmed by the response to his posting for lab assistants.

"You will mostly be preparing ingredients," Severus told the boy.

"I'm sure I'll learn a lot by observing," Harry Potter said. "Thanks for the potion, professor. I really appreciate it."

"Do try to stay out of trouble Mr. Potter," Severus said.

"I'll try professor," Harry Potter said on his way out. "I've never been very good at that though, come to think of it."

"And yet, I would still be rather put out if you were not around to get into trouble, so at least try to stay out of the Hospital Wing," Severus said.

The boy paused on his way to the door. "I will," the boy said. "Have a good day professor."

Severus had a feeling that that last exchange had been highly significant to the boy, but he still could not fathom how. He certainly hadn't been lying. His stomach had been in his throat when the boy had fallen. It had felt so foreign to him, because he knew then that it hadn't been about Lily, and it hadn't been about the prophecy. It had been worry for the boy and Severus couldn't quite identify when that transition had been made. That Harry had come all the closer to death the night before was not a welcome revelation. How odd that they would share this illness. That he had shared it with Potter. He briefly entertained the notion that all of the pureblood families had been passing it down for generations while keeping it a secret from one another.


IIIIIIIIIIIIII


Harry took a deep breath after he walked out of Professor Snape's office. That had gone a lot better than he had thought it would. Harry replayed the interaction in his head over and over again as he made his way up to Gryffindor.

"How'd it go?" Ron asked.

"He gave me a potion," Harry said. "I take it every Sunday. I don't need to worry about the charm anymore."

"...Cool," Ron said. "But how'd he take the whole thing."

"Well he was angry at first, cause I could have died, but he calmed down pretty quickly," Harry said. The way Harry saw it, he was glad that he knew that the man wouldn't just revert to his old self just because he was angry at him.

"Harry," Hermione said in exasperation. "What did he say when he found out you were his son?"

"I didn't tell him," Harry said. "He didn't even seem to suspect."

"Bloody hell," Ron said. "What are you waiting for. This was the perfect time to bring it up."

"But it wasn't," Harry said. "What if he thought I was making it up. See now, I think Hermione was on to something with that lineage potion. I want to learn how to brew that first."

"And then you'll tell him," Hermione said. It wasn't a question.

There was a pause where Harry thought about it.

"Yes," Harry said. "And then I'll tell him."

"It's not an easy potion," Hermione said. "Though I have a feeling you were banking on this taking a while."

Harry shrugged.

"Let's get to work then," Hermione said.

They worked until lunch. The potion wasn't exactly as difficult as Polyjuice Potion, or the Widow's Shield Potion, but it still wasn't the sort of thing they'd brew in class during Double Potions.

He had forgotten his arrangement with Benjamin until the older boy tapped him on the shoulder as Harry was finishing his lunch at the Gryffindor Table; Professor Snape had been right, Harry was craving green leafy vegetables, but he certainly didn't enjoy them.

"You still on for after lunch?" Benjamin asked. "Or are you still all banged up from yesterday."

"Oh, no, I'm alright," Harry said. "Madame Pomfrey you know; she patched me up good as new. You still want to?"

"Of course," Benjamin said. "It'll be fun."

"Alright," Harry said. "I'm ready to leave now." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "I'll see you in an hour or so. I'm doing some defense work with Benjamin. Oh, right. This is Benjamin, Benjamin this is Ron and Hermione."

The three exchanged greetings and Harry and Benjamin found an unused classroom and cleared out a space to work in. Benjamin cast a few cushioning charms on the ground.

They started by stretching and then Benjamin showed Harry some different wrist locks that Harry found easy enough to do if he was being attacked in slow motion.

"You were interested in grappling though, right?" Benjamin asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Like if someone's grabbed you."

"Alright," Benjamin said. "There's a few different scenarios I can show you. Let's say you've grabbed my arm."

By this point, Harry knew that in such a hypothetical, he was actually expected to act it out. He grabbed Benjamin's arm.

"Right, so the weak point of a grip is the thumb," Benjamin said. "Most people try to break away from someone like this… but they're working against the fingers. So if you twist like this… you can break their grip. Of course, if you're this close to them you'll either want to be ready to run or strike, so know what you're going to do before you break the hold. Alright now you try."

Benjamin's grip was very firm but not terribly tight around Harry's rather lean arm. It rather seemed improbable that any trick would break him free, but he tried anyway and was surprised when he did in fact break loose. Still though, Benjamin was a far cry away from an adult's stature.

"Right," Benjamin said. "So let's say someone's grabbed you from behind, so both your arms are pinned to your sides. Instead of pushing your arms away from your body to break their grasp, you want to pull your arms in and then up like this." Benjamin showed him the motion.

"This might actually be a bit much for someone who can't be more than 145 centimeters," Benjamin said to Harry, who didn't need to be reminded that he was one of the shortest students in third year. "So you might want to pull your legs up at the same time so they're also holding up your dead weight. Here," Benjamin said, indicating for Harry to turn around.

Harry soon found his arms trapped to his sides as Benjamin's arms wrapped around him from behind. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling of being trapped. He was certain he wouldn't be breaking free of this one.

He brought his arms inward and upward like Benjamin had shown him anyway, but the older boys arms barely budged. Harry tried again, his sense of unease growing. Finally he tried lifting his legs at the same time. Benjamin grunted as he found himself holding all of Harry's weight as Harry tried the move once more, sliding out from the boy's arms, entirely unprepared to land on the ground.

"Good job," Benjamin said. "Alright, we've been at this for a while. Suppose we just do one more."

"Sounds good," said Harry, who was feeling a bit exhausted by the lessons.

"So this'll be fun," Benjamin said. "All of those wrist locks I showed you, once you've got them in a lock, there's a few different ways to force them face down on the ground from that point, even if you're smaller. I'll show you how next time, but you need to do it right, because if you leave them an opening there's a way for them to flip the tables. So let's say that you've just forced me to the ground and you're pinning me with your knee on my back."

Benjamin hopped down to the ground, but Harry hesitated.

"You want me to put my knee into your back?" Harry asked.

"You can't weigh more than 35 kilos," Benjamin said. "I think I'd be fine if you jumped on me."

Harry frowned but got down and pinned Benjamin, putting his hand on the boy's shoulders to hold him down. He had certainly been in that position a good number of times thanks to Dudley and his gang. Dudley had definitely weighed more than 35 kilograms back then though.

"Alright, so there's a few options here, but if I were you I'd stick to this move here. I'll do it slow."

Benjamin twisted and squirmed and slow as he was moving it did seem that suddenly the boy wasn't underneath him on his stomach, but rather next to him on his side.

"So from here now your center of balance is off and it would be easy for me to push you over and make a run for it, or I could grab you like this… and flip us… and now I have you pined. Now this hold here is much more static you see…"

Benjamin was still talking, but Harry wasn't listening. He was trapped. He couldn't move. He had to break free but he couldn't move. He needed to get away, but he was trapped. He had let this happen. Everything was his fault. He was trapped. He couldn't breath. He was going to die.

Harry struggled. He wanted to scream but he knew that he couldn't. He had to get away. If only he could get away. He thrashed about.

"Harry," he heard some time later. "Harry are you alright?"

He was taking huge gasping breaths. His back was to the wall in the back corner of the room, his legs were curled up and his arms were protecting his face. He had to catch his breath. He was nauseous and covered in sweat.

"I-it's alright, Harry," Benjamin said. "You're alright. Just breath. Everything's good. You just need to calm down."

It took Harry a long moment to focus on where he was, what they had been doing. It took him a long moment to realize what had happened, but when he did…

"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly. "I'm sorry, I don't know…"

"It's alright," Benjamin said.

There was a long awkward silence while Harry caught his breath.

"That happened over the summer," Benjamin said. "Didn't it."

Harry didn't say anything, he just tried to catch his breath.

"You said on Thursday this stuff would have come in handy over the summer. Did Greyback have you pinned like that?" Benjamin asked.

Harry just nodded, because he didn't think he could look at Benjamin just then, much less talk to him. There was a longer moment of silence before Harry got up on unsteady legs and ran from the room.
Chapter End Notes:
Harry had a panic attack in this chapter. Benjamin, while trying to help, tells him he just needs to calm down. As I understand it, this is supremely unhelpful in helping people who are experiencing a panic attack, but Benjamin does not know this. As I have previously said. The characters don’t always know what do do in certain situations, and they sometimes do the wrong thing. As usual, I am not a medical or psychological expert. WebMD has a helpful article under, “Helping Someone During a Panic Attack,” if you are at all interested.

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