Severus flopped on his armchair. His legs sprawled out in front of him. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

That blasted boy was going to be the end of him before it was Christmas. He couldn’t do anything easy.

The door to his chambers opened.

“Get out,” Severus growled without opening his eyes.

“Now, Severus,” Albus softly chastised. “Is that anyway to talk to your guests?”

“It would be when they are not invited,” Severus said snidely. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk about today’s Quidditch match,” Minerva said, speaking for the first time.

“If you’ve come to gloat,” Severus opened his eyes, glaring at the Gryffindor, “you can turn and walk right out that door.”

“Severus Tobias Snape,” Minerva chided, putting her hands on her hips. “Stop this right now. If you think I’m so callous that I would gloat about a stupid win when one of my children almost bucked off his broom and plummeted to his death, then you do not know me as much as you claim.”

Thoroughly chastised, Severus sat up straighter in the chair.

“Forgive my attitude,” Severus said. “I’m a little testy.”

“I’m sure you are,” Albus said, sitting down. “You used a lot of magic keeping Harry on that broom.”

“Keeping Harry on the broom?” Minerva asked with a hint of surprise.

Severus looked up and saw the look Minerva was giving him; a small hint of blush rose Severus’ neck to his cheeks.

“There is no need to stare,” Severus barked.

“Now, now, my boy,” Albus said. “Don’t be so modest. It took a lot of controlled magic to keep the child attached to his broom.”

“I—I,” Minerva stuttered. She didn’t know how to take this information. “I apologize for my attitude, Severus,” waving her hand conjuring a decanter and three tumblers.

“Do you have any idea who would curse the child’s broom?” Severus asked after taking a sip of the Firewhiskey.

“I am unsure,” Albus said solemnly. “I didn’t feel anything where I was. Minerva?”

“No,” Minerva said quickly. She didn’t know that Severus was keeping Harry attached to his broom. She didn’t notice a problem until he was swinging in the air. Thinking about it now, she was doing what Severus accused her of. Sitting next to Lee Jordan, Minerva was more involved in the game score instead of watching the players.

“Severus, I would like you to keep an eye out for Harry,” Albus said. “See who—”

“I beg your pardon,” Severus growled, cutting Albus off. “I will not spend my time babysitting Potter.”

“My boy,” Albus smirked, seemingly immune at being cut off. “You can stop with the act.”

“What act?”

“You’ve been taking care and watching out for Harry since he stepped into the door,” Albus said. “You may think I don’t know, but I do.”

“Know what?” Severus sneered.

“You punished Harry for flying when the class was instructed to stay on the ground,” Albus said, looking over his half-mooned glasses.

Severus knew Albus was talking about spanking Harry. Corporal punishment wasn’t restricted in the school but was only used as a last resort. Honestly, Severus was surprised that he wasn’t summoned to Albus’ chambers after Harry’s flying diabolical.  

“Ah, yes,” Minerva agreed. “He did have to have detention with you. Then there was the troll incident, and Harry refused to let you go.”

Severus raised an eyebrow at Minerva. He would have thought that Albus told her, but then if she did know, he would have heard about it.

“So, don’t act like you’ll be put out by it,” Albus said, standing up. “I’m just saying to continue on what you’ve been doing.”

Albus held out his hand to help Minerva to stand.

“We shall leave you for the night,” Albus said. “Good night, my boy.”

Severus closed his eyes, trying to calm his temper. It wouldn’t look great if he were to obliviate those two geezers. 

It hadn’t been long since Albus and Minerva left that Severus needed to walk around. His nerves were on edge. The fact that someone cursed the boy’s broom didn’t sit well with him. He needed something to occupy his mind. He headed to the Infirmary.

When he walked in the doors, he was greeted by Poppy.

“Oh, Severus,” Poppy said.

“Evening, Poppy,” Severus said. “I came to see if there were any potions that you’re in need of.”

“I’m not sure,” Poppy said, walking towards her cupboard located at the back of the Infirmary.

Severus followed. He noticed that most of the cots were empty except for one. The child was curled on his side. Seeing the wild nest of hair, Severus knew who it was.

Poppy walked over to Severus.

“Why is Potter here?” Severus asked.

Thinking back on the Quidditch game, Severus remembered seeing the child stand up after he landed on the field. He didn’t appear to be hurt. Was there some underlying damage that was done while he was being bucked on his broom?

“Ah,” Poppy said. “He came complaining about his wrist hurting.”

“On his own?” Severus asked skeptically. Severus recollected that Harry was adamant that he didn’t want to go to the Infirmary.

“Well, no,” Poppy shrugged. “The Weasley twins brought him.”

Severus harrumphed.

“But Harry did want me to tell you that he did get a check-up,” Poppy continued. “He was very persistent in making sure I told you he came.” Again, Poppy shrugged her shoulder. “Here is a list. It isn’t much, but I’m low on these.”

Severus absently took the piece of parchment. His attention was no longer on the potions list. It was on the small child lying on the cot.

“You said his wrist was hurt?” Severus inquired.

“Yes,” Poppy said, walking over to the side of Harry’s cot. “Harry said it felt like someone was gripping his arm. When I ran a diagnostic, I didn’t see anything damaged. Just some small bruising and slight swelling of his fingers, but nothing serious. I kept him here because I wanted to keep an eye on him. I gave him a small amount of calming draught and dreamless sleep. Even though Harry had fun playing, it was still a trying day. He needed the rest.”

After a moment of silence, Poppy said, “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few odds and ends to finish before I turn in.”

“Don’t let me stop you, Poppy,” Severus said. “I’ll get started on this list and get back to you soon.”

“Very well,” Poppy said, walking away. “Good night, Severus.”

Severus sat down on the edge of the cot, looking at the small child peacefully sleeping. Shaking his head, Severus couldn’t understand how a small child could cause such a huge worry.

He needed to stop worrying about Potter. The brat wasn’t in his house, so there was no logical reasoning behind the attention. Now, he was being charged with watching out for the brat.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Potter,” Severus whispered, brushing the child’s hair away, revealing the famous scar.

Severus stood and left the Infirmary.

___000___000___000

The next morning Harry was released from the Infirmary with the order of taking it easy with his hand. His wrist was better, just a little sore. Madam Pomfrey warned Harry to let it rest and no roughhousing.

Harry met up with Ron and Neville at the Great Hall. All three were chattering about the Quidditch game the previous day. The boys sat next to Hermione, who was already at the table eating.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I’m okay,” Harry replied, filling his plate with eggs. “Madam Pomfrey said take it easy. So, that’s what I’m gonna do.” Harry smiled.

After breakfast, the group of children headed to the Gryffindor common room. After much deliberation and arguing, Hermione, Harry, and Neville convinced Ron that they needed to do their homework before the next day. Luckily, it wasn’t much that had to be done. All the Professor, except Professor Snape, didn’t assign much homework this weekend.

“So, Harry,” Ron said, trying to put off starting his homework. “Do you have any idea of who cursed your broom?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I was trying to not fall.”

“They think it was a professor,” Neville said.

“Who thinks that?” Harry asked.

“Hermione and Ron,” Neville answered.

“Why would you think that?” Harry asked, looking at Ron and then Hermione.

“You should be asking who it was,” Ron said. “He’s been against you since classes started.”

“Who?” Harry asked, exasperated, getting tired of not getting a straight answer.

“Professor Snape,” Ron said.

“He was uttering a spell,” Hermione said. “He had his eyes on you.”

Harry paled. That’s impossible. Professor Snape wouldn’t do that. Not to me. He saved me. He was there when the troll was going to kill me. I don’t believe it.

“That’s not true,” Harry’s voice cracked. “He wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione leaned in and whispered to Harry.

Harry didn’t respond. He was quiet for the rest of their study session.

Once homework was finished, the young Gryffindors went their separate ways. Neville headed to the Nursery. He was helping Professor Sprout on her young devil’s snare seedlings. Hermione went to the Library. Because, why not? Why would she need a reason to go? Ron went to find his brothers. The twins promised he could help them out with their next new product. Ron invited Harry to come along, but Harry declined. He had other things on his mind.

Harry not having a destination, wandered the castle. He slowly rotated his wrist to see how much it hurt. It wasn’t as bad as it was the night before. He argued with Madam Pomfrey that he didn’t need to stay in the Infirmary overnight, but she trumped him. Now, he was glad he did.

During his stroll, Harry ended up in front of Snape’s office door.

Harry stood at the door debating if he should knock. The last time he was here he made Professor Snape angry. He didn’t want to do that again. But from what he just learned, Harry needed to know what happened from Snape himself.

Harry fought with himself trying to decide if he should knock or not. But as it turned out, that decision was taken from him.

“Is there some reason you are loitering in front of my office?”

Harry was startled by the voice behind him. When he turned around, he saw Professor Snape with his arms folded across his chest.

“Well,” Severus snapped, “why are you here, Mr. Potter?”

“I, uh, I,” Harry stuttered. “I wanted, no, needed to see you.”

Severus was shocked by that reasoning, but quickly recovered.

“What do you want, Potter?” Severus growled. “I’m very busy.” That was a lie, but the brat didn’t need to know that.

“I need to talk to you,” Harry rushed out.

“What is it?” Severus asked, exasperatedly.

Harry didn’t want to say what he needed to in the open. Biting his lip, Harry said, “It’s private.”

Severus rolled his eyes skyward before stepping closer to the child. Harry almost took a step back but caught himself.

“If you want to come into my office,” Severus said, “I need to get in.”

When Harry still hadn’t taken the hint, Severus harshly said, “Sometime today,” waving his hand indicating that Harry needed to step aside.

Harry moved and waited to go inside. Severus walked behind his desk and sat down. Harry was standing by the door, biting his lip.

Severus sighed; he didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Potter,” Severus said. “You asked to come in.”

“Sorry, sir,” Harry said. His fingers twisting his robes. “Uh, I wanted to uh…”

“Please, Mr. Potter,” Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever it is, please get it out.”

“Sorry, sir,” Harry sighed.

Come on, Harry, just ask him. Just ask him. Harry walked to the desk.

“Did you curse my broom?” Harry yelled.

The question was so shocking it caught Severus off guard. He was at a loss for words. He looked at the boy standing in front of his desk. A part of him wanted to berate the cretin for the audacity. But looking at the child’s face, he wasn’t being disrespectful.

“Why would you think that?” Severus asked.

“They told me that you were looking at my broom when it was jerking all around and flipped me over.” Harry’s bashfulness went away and now the child was talking non-stop. “And they said you were muttering things. And you have to have eye contact for a spell to work. But that’s not true, is it? It can’t be. You wouldn’t do that.”

“Mister Potter.”

Severus’ voice reverberated off the walls, quieting Harry instantly. After a moment of silence, Severus continued.

“Now,” Severus said, speaking normally. “You are right. I did not curse your broom.”

“I knew it,” Harry said, cutting Severus off, smiling. The oppressive feeling of dread lifted from his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t do something like that. You…”

“Mr. Potter, would you stop interrupting me, and kindly let me finish.”

“Sorry, sir.” Harry’s cheeks heated, but he couldn’t stop smiling, as he sat down on the chair across from Severus’ desk.

“As I was saying,” Severus began again, “I was not the one that cursed your broom. Whoever “they” are were right that I was muttering a spell. And your wrapped wrist is the result of it.”

Harry’s eyes got big as he looked down at his bandaged wrist. Then the memory of hanging from his broom came to mind. The feeling that something gripping his wrist and holding his fingers to the broom.

He saved me. He saved me. This slow mantra kept going over and over in Harry’s mind.

Harry felt his throat tightened as he looked up at the dour potion professor. The same safe feeling he felt with the troll incident was the same feeling he’s feeling now. Without thinking, Harry rushed out of his chair and ran around the desk and wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck.

The child rushing to his side and wrapping his arms around Severus’ neck shocked the man. It happened so suddenly that he didn’t have time to react. The boy just wrapped his skinny arms around his neck.

Severus adjusted his chair as Harry was at an awkward angle. He turned the chair slightly giving the boy full access to his person. It was on the tip of his tongue for the boy to release him, but it was what the child was murmuring that kept those scathing words in his mouth.

Sighing, Severus wrapped his arms around the small child and held him.

___000___000___000

It’d been hours since Potter left his office. Severus was currently sitting in his armchair in his chambers. There was a tumbler filled with Firewhiskey that was ignored on the side table. Severus had planned when he came to his office to get things ready for his NEWT class that he had the next day, but when he saw Potter standing at his door, once again that boy changed his plans.

Severus didn’t know how to process what was going on between him and that child. He didn’t know if it was the way the boy adamantly felt that he didn’t curse his broom, or the impromptu hug he received or the whispered words that he heard in his ear.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I knew you saved me. I knew it. You would never hurt me. I know it.

The boy’s appreciation replayed over and over in his mind.

Severus couldn’t deal with this now. There was someone he needed to find. And he couldn’t do it, if he’s having these strange feelings now.

Picking up the forgotten tumbler, Severus drank its contents in one gulp. He allowed the burn feeling to go down his throat, hoping to wash away the last few hours.

___000___000___000

Gringotts is run by goblins, but for the less appealing work, the goblins use elves. The elves were delegated to search and catalogue through parchment scrolls of the witches and wizards who bank at Gringotts. If a Will is filed, or a plot of land is distributed, the elves sort it and divvied up to the proper goblin. There aren’t many elves that work at the bank as the goblins don’t trust many to deal with their inner workings of the bank.

One particular morning, a stack of scrolls appeared at Griphook’s desk. In the stack was a scroll that should have been dealt with nine years ago. Something of a delicate issue that must be dealt with quickly and quietly.

An internal investigation had to be done. The Curse-breakers would have to investigate if there were any charms or curses on the parchment that would be harmful. When cleared from that, the document authenticity would come into question. These procedures take time. The goblins wanted to keep this quiet so not to have any bad press that they mishandled a document that should have been delivered a decade ago. 

___000___000___000

It’d been a few weeks since the Quidditch game. Things had been getting back to a normal routine. Classes. Study groups. Meals. Group gatherings. Christmas break was the main topic with all the students. Well, most of them.

Harry would sit back and listen to his dormmates talk about what they wished for or what their families were going to do during the holidays. Harry wasn’t jealous about it. Actually, he was happy. Hearing all the different events and places that the other boys were going sounded fun. Harry was used to imagining different scenarios when he was locked in his cupboard. Now, it didn’t matter to Harry what happened during the holiday break. Just being at this school, having friends, going to visit his owl, was the best thing in the world.

It was the weekend, three weeks from the Quidditch match. Ron and Harry were walking to the Great Hall for lunch, adamantly talking about different Quidditch teams. Ever since Harry joined the House team, he became more interested with the sport. With Ron’s help, they would have discussions about the different teams. Harry wasn’t that well versed as Ron, but that didn’t stop the boy from having an opinion.

So caught up in their discussion, they turned a corner that led to the stairs, when Harry and Ron collided into Draco and Blaise. Being caught off guard, Harry started a small chain reaction. When he bumped into Blaise, he fell back into Ron. Which pushed him forward to Draco, causing Harry to fall on the floor.

“What’s your problem, Potter?” Draco screamed. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

Harry, picking himself off the floor, was about to respond when Ron spoke first.

“Why didn’t you?” came Ron’s angry reply.

“It’s fine, Ron,” Harry said, pulling on Ron’s sleeve.

“No, it’s not,” Ron ranted.

“Let’s go,” Harry said, walking passed Draco.

Draco grabbed the back of Harry’s robe causing him to lose his balance and fall again this time taking Draco with him.

“You imbecile,” Draco shouted, pulling himself up. “I would say if you were on the Quidditch team then you would know how to keep your balance, but after that spectacle during the game, I’m not so sure.”

Harry looked up at Draco, his brow furrowing. He remembered Draco was the one cursing the other students’ brooms, causing Neville to break his wrist.

“You cursed my broom,” Harry accused, standing up.

“What?” Draco asked. “What are you talking about?”

Ron and Blaise watched the interaction between the small Gryffindor and the Slytherin prince.

“Just like class,” Harry said. “You cursed my broom. Tried to make me fall.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco said, turning to walk away.

“You cursed Neville’s broom causing him to break his wrist,” Harry said louder.

Students that were walking past stopped to see what was going on. There were whispers and murmuring going on around the group of boys. Harry didn’t notice the crowd.

“I saw you do it,” Harry continued.

“You don’t know what you saw,” Draco sneered. “Maybe you need to get your glasses checked. Let’s go, Blaise.”

This time it was Harry that stopped Draco from leaving. Harry was furious. He was the reason that his broom bucked. He almost fell. Draco was a prat, but he didn’t think he would be like his cousin.

“Let go of me, Potter,” Draco growled, as he tried to pull his robe free of Harry’s grasp.

Ron saw the group of people crowding around. He didn’t want to see anyone get in trouble, especially himself. He grabbed on to Harry’s arm.

“Come on, Harry,” Ron said softly.

“No!” Harry snatched his arm away from Ron. “He cursed my broom!”

“What is going on here?”

Ron, Draco, and Blaise turned to see Professor McGonagall walking towards them.

“Break it up,” Minerva ordered. “It is getting close to lunch time. I expect to see all of you in the Great Hall. Now, go.”

All the gathering students walked away at the command. Minerva walked over to the group of boys.

“What is going on here?” Minerva asked.

“This cretin won’t let me go,” Draco said.

“Name calling isn’t necessary, Mr. Malfoy,” Minerva admonished. “Now, what is going on?”

“It’s all his fault,” Draco said, trying to get his robe from Harry’s grip. “Potter won’t let me go.”

“Malfoy started it,” Ron cut in.

“That’s enough,” Minerva said, holding up her hands. “Now, Mr. Zabini, what is going on?”

“But--,” Ron cut in.

“I didn’t ask you, Mr. Weasley,” Minerva said, quieting down the red-headed child. “Go on, Mr. Zabini.”

“Potter accused Draco of cursing his broom,” Blaise said. “We didn’t do anything.”

“That’s not true,” Ron yelled. “He started it,” pointing at Malfoy.

“Mr. Weasley, I will not tell you again. You will hold your tongue until I address you.”

Minerva walked over to Harry, who still had a firm grip on Draco’s robes.

Harry wasn’t moving. His brow was pinched together. His lips were in a thin line. He was breathing hard.

“Mr. Potter,” Minerva said, putting her hand over Harry’s. “Release Mr. Malfoy.”

When she tried to untangle Harry’s fingers from the clothes, she was met with strong resistance.

“See, I told you,” Draco whined. “He’s crazy. He won’t let me go.”

“Mr. Potter,” Minerva said, looking at the small Gryffindor. “Let go.” Minerva continued trying to pry Harry’s fingers off Draco’s robes. Seeing that the child won’t let go, Minerva went another tactic.

“Take off your robe, Mr. Malfoy,” Minerva said.

“But, Professor,” Draco objected.

“Obviously, having Mr. Potter physically letting go of your robes isn’t going to happen now. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, and Mr. Weasley go to lunch.”

“This is unfair,” Draco grumbled. “My father will hear of this.”

Draco unclipped his robe and shrugged his shoulders out of it. He stomped off in a huff with Blaise following closely behind. Ron stayed.

Minerva sighed, “Ronald,” said softly, “go to lunch. Harry will join you soon. Go on.”

Ron reluctantly turned and headed for the Great Hall.

Minerva’s full attention was on Harry. When she looked down at the child once they were alone, she noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes were focused on something in front of him. She cupped her hand on Harry’s cheek in an effort of getting the child to look at her.

Her heart broke looking at the child’s face. Though Harry looked angry, there was hurt behind his eyes.

“Come now, Harry,” Minerva soothed. “Come back. It’s alright. We can talk about it.”

Harry could hear muffled voices. Knowing that the attack on his broom was deliberate was one thing, but learning that it was another student, Malfoy, that caused it, broke his heart. Being at Hogwarts made Harry think he wasn’t a freak, that he had true friends. His mean cousin wasn’t around to bully him. He thought that he could walk around in peace, knowing that even if everyone didn’t like him, he didn’t have to continually watch his back for something. He didn’t want to believe his relatives when they called him a freak. But after this, he knew he was one. He had to be if this kept happening.

Minerva could see that she wasn’t getting through to the child.

___000___000___000

Severus was stepping through the floo into the Headmaster’s chambers.

No peace, Severus grumbled to himself. None whatsoever.

Albus was sitting behind his desk, reading over some parchments.

“Ah, Severus,” Albus said, looking up at his guest. “So glad that you’ve come.”

“Not like I had a choice,” Severus said, none too softly. “What do you want, old man?”

“Now, now,” Albus said, smiling. “I only wanted you to accompany me to the Great Hall.”

Severus rolled his eyes. Of course.

“No, you didn’t,” Severus sneered. “You wanted to make sure that I showed up.”

“You know me so well, my dear boy,” Albus said, his eyes twinkling brightly.

“Hence the reason I know you, old man,” Severus growled.

“Now, Severus,” Albus said, chuckling. “Is that any way to talk to your—”

“Don’t say it,” Severus said, holding up his hand, cutting Albus off. He walked over to the door. “It was a lapse in judgement that it even happened. Let’s go since you feel I have to be chaperoned.”

Severus stormed down the spiral stairs hearing Albus snickering behind him.  Severus thought they had come to an understanding. They wouldn’t bring up his weakest moments in his life and rub it in his face. Leave it to that old coot not to hold up his end of the bargain.

Albus caught up with Severus, putting his hand on the Potions Master’s shoulder. Severus wanted to shake the man’s hand off but knew it wouldn’t work towards his advantage.

Turning down the last corridor to the Great Hall, Albus and Severus stopped when they saw Minerva trying to soothe a child.

“Minerva,” Albus called out.

Minerva turned and saw Albus and Severus walking towards her. The two wizards saw who she was talking to: Harry.

“What happened?” Albus asked, walking faster towards his Transfigurations Professor.

“There was some kind of altercation between him and Mr. Malfoy,” Minerva said.

Severus caught up to them. He looked at the blank look on Potter’s face.

“How long has he been like this?” Albus asked.

“Since I’ve been here,” Minerva said. “These are young Draco’s robes. Harry won’t let them go.”

Without thinking or being prompted, Severus walked over and put his hand over Harry’s small fist. For the first time, Harry moved his head from his Head of House’s hands. He looked down at the potion stained fingers over his. He looked up at his personification of safety and dropped the robe. With the same speed after the troll, Harry had his arms wrapped around Severus’ middle. It caught the adults by surprise. The only sounds in the hall were the broken sobs of the eleven old child.