Going For Help

'He believed me. He actually believed me.' For Harry, it was a novelty when any adult paid attention to what he said, especially with Professor McGonagall blowing him off first year and Professor Dumbledore brushing off his protests of staying with the Dursley's. But, for once in his life, an adult had listened to what he had to say and believed him. Who would have guessed this person would have been Professor Snape.

*Flashback*

Harry knew he had to try. If Professor Snape didn't believe him, then he would never ask an adult for help ever again. Even now, it was a stretch for him. He had tried first year, but look at where that got him; near dead and having faced Voldemort. But, she didn't deserve this. She was a first-year. A Slytherin, but just a first-year. And no child should have to go through with this. With resignation and a little bit of hope, Harry knocked on Professor Snape's door.

When he heard the, "Come in," he hoped he was doing the right thing. He knew his chances were slim, what with the Professor being constantly annoyed and hateful of him, but he knew he had to try. Even if the Professor hated him even more than he had before, what with the way the Occlumency lessons ended, it would, hopefully, be worth it.

Harry crept through the crack in the door and shut it behind him. When the Potions Master looked up, the face changed into a disgusted visage.

"Mr. Potter, I had hoped you weren't mentally inadequate enough to come back here, but, alas, you continue to prove me wrong. What can I, unfortunately, do for you?"

"I have come to inform you that one of your students is in pain. Professor."

At this, Severus Snape straightened up and his glare softened a bit.

"Say that again."

Harry shivered at the anger in his tone, but tensed his spine in preparation for the volley of insults that was sure to come.

"One of your Slytherin students is hurt, sir."

"And how would you know that, Mr. Potter?" The name like acid on his tongue.

"Because I saw it on her." "Her?" "Yes, sir. One of the Slytherin first-years. She's kind of short, long-pale-blonde hair, brown eyes. She has the same kind of look like Malfoy."

"Yes, I do believe that I know who you are talking about. Go on?"

"She had writing on the back of her hand. It looked like scratches. She was leaving Umbridge's office and crying. She was rubbing her hand; it's how I noticed the scratches." He quickly added on the last part, hoping that it would cover the fact that he knew what to look for.

As Harry was telling his story, he, too, started rubbing the back of his hand. Snape saw the same scratches on the back of Potter's hand, but decided to wait until a more opportune time to sort that out. He re-focused his attention back on Potter.

"…Blood Quill."

"Excuse me."

"A Blood Quill, sir. It's what's causing the scratches and-"

"Yes, Potter, I know what a Blood Quill is. However, how you came upon this knowledge is in question. I'm guessing Ms. Granger."

Harry's eyes lit with fire. "I'll have you know, sir, that even though you think I don't know anything, I do know how to read, how to use the library, and how to find what I'm looking for."

Snape scoffed at Harry's response, but admitted only to himself that the boy could be right.

At that moment, what the boy had been saying decided to sink in. His anger came to the fore-front of his mind and it must have shone on his face for Potter shivered again. He calmed his breathing and used his Occlumency shields to grab his anger and hold it. Eventually, he had his anger completely under control and opened his eyes. He looked to Potter and saw the multitude of expression in his eyes. The boy looked a bit scared, but he, also, looked determined and a little bit, what was that, hopeless.

"Thank you, Potter, for bringing this to my attention. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a child who needs my expertise."

As he was walking out the door, he heard, "I'm sorry, sir."

"For what, Potter?"

"For what my father did to you, sir. No one should have to go through that."

With that, Potter pushed past him and all but ran back to the Gryffindor common room.

Snape stood there in his door way, shocked beyond belief. Eventually a smile worked its way onto his lips and he left his room. He decided that being a little less antagonistic towards Potter was an appropriate reward for bringing the situation to his attention.