AN: I would like to say thank you so much for reading and reviewing :D
Also, I would very much like to thank Brodus, who wrote helpful comments. While writing it in word I use the line thing so I can add them after it's added to FF… I guess I got overexcited and forgot to finish XP I shall strive for it not to happen again.
On another note, I know it is taking a little while for me to set the story up, and I'm sorry if it seems kinda boring, but it is quite necessary, I promise. I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations though! And about Snape, I'm sorry if I don't have him in the story more so far, but that will be changing soon.
Also, I do not have a beta, so if something's misspelled, I'm very sorry and I will fix it soon XP
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them to write fanfics :D
Warning: There's nothing too graphic in this chapter.
-Chapter Three-
=Right Under Your Noses=
Harry sat in the hospital wing, kicking his feet back and forth over the ledge of the bed as he waited for Madam Pomfrey to come in. She was currently with McGonnagal, and they were checking over the other students of the train that were affected by the… whatever had attacked them.
Professor Lupin had left Harry after a bit, stating that he would go find her and send her back in. That had been at least twenty minutes ago.
Bored, Harry got off the bed that the Professor had told him to sit on and began walking around the empty room. He wasn't used to it being so quiet, or empty, for that matter. He made his way to the closed windows and looked out along the grounds; the rain wasn't letting up, not that Harry had thought it would. If anything it was getting worse. He didn't envy the first years, crossing the lake in this cold weather.
The door to the room opened loudly, causing the boy to jump and turn around.
Professor Snape stood still a moment. "What are you doing in here, Potter?" He asked, looking down his nose to the boy across the room.
Harry stood taller, trying to look determined and unaffected, no matter how he really felt. "Professor Lupin brought me up here. He told me to wait for Madam…"
"Yes, yes." Snape waved him off midsentence. He didn't feel he needed to hear another word; the boy was just looking for attention and sympathy from more teachers. He continued to the cabinet in the room, opening it and pulling a few bottles from the shelves. "I do hope the attention was worth it, Potter." He finally said to the glowering boy, then left the room.
Harry stood still a moment, unsure of what to say. He finally made his way back to the bed and sighed, maneuvering himself back up onto the white sheets.
A little while later Madam Pomfrey came in, muttering under her breath. "First day back and I've already got four sick students. What was the man thinking, bringing those things onto school grounds." She looked up to Harry, slightly surprised that there was someone already there. Her surprise faded and she shook her head. "I just need to assign you your own bed, Potter."
"Sorry about this," Harry half laughed.
"So what's the matter?" She asked. "Lupin told me the Dementor set itself upon the children; he said you fell to a fit and broke your wrist."
"Yes, ma'am." He replied awkwardly. Fell to a fit? Did everyone know?
"Well, let me see your wrist." She walked forward and motioned him to hold his hand out.
Harry complied, and she made short work of fixing the broken appendage. "Please see to it that you take better care of yourself, or I really will have to assign you your own bed. Now come on, the sorting is starting. Professor Dumbledore had to postpone it for a bit so we could check the students over, but I don't think he'll wait much longer."
Harry jumped off the bed, the wrist that had been bugging him for weeks feeling so much better. He was surprised that the injury was causing him so much pain, not that he felt a great deal better. But a broken bone was nothing to compare to flesh wounds.
Harry found his way to his spot easily, sitting beside Ron.
"Why are you so happy?" Hermione asked, but then Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and began sorting the students. He announced the teacher that had been in their cabin was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, and then Hagrid was teaching Care of Magical Creatures.
"Must be why we got those weird books," Ron mused.
Dinner started, and with the events on the train, it seemed every student was famished.
The warm food was welcome as Harry and Ron ate. To Hermione, it seemed that they were competing with table manners, or the lack thereof. Thankfully there was much more food than seemed, and the two continued to pile food onto their plates, and empty it in a matter of minutes.
When Dumbledore announced it was time for bed, the trio ran towards Hagrid and congratulated him on his new job.
The Prefects stood, announcing to the first years to follow them to their houses. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in the large group of students as the first years oohed and awed at the stairs, the pictures, and anything that caught their fancy.
"Were we ever that, OW!" Ron rubbed his arm where Hermione had smacked him.
"Yes," She replied, no hint of remorse in her voice as the group moved slowly to the dorms.
Two hands clapped either side of Harry's shoulders, causing him to wince slightly, and turn. "Fred, George!" He smiled suddenly.
"Heard that you fainted on the train…" Fred started, a look mixed between worry and amusement plain on his face.
"And that you broke your wrist." George finished.
Harry's face fell, and he groaned. "I take it the whole school knows?" He asked.
"We heard it from the new Professor when he was talking to Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey."
"Poor Ginny wouldn't stop shaking even after he gave her some chocolate."
Ron frowned and looked past his brothers for his sister. "Where is she?"
"She had to stay in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey said she should be ok, but she'd have to take something or other until the shivering stops."
"Sad to hear." Hermione commented, rubbing her arm. "Hope she's ok. I heard quite a few students were affected like that… though…" She spared Harry a quick glance.
"What happened? Did it touch you?" George asked after a short pause.
Harry realized that besides the overjoyed first years, the rest of the Gryffindors around were listening intently. "Haven't a clue." He replied curtly, suddenly irritated. It wasn't their fault they were standing around him, but he still felt disgusted at the invasion of privacy.
Harry's stomach started to churn.
Once safely inside their dorm rooms, Harry sighed and lay on his bed, closing his eyes as soon as his head touched the pillow. He hadn't felt at home in months, hadn't felt safe.
"Going to sleep already?" Neville asked, surprising Ron and Harry.
"When did you come in?" Ron breathed out, a hand on his heart.
"Followed you two up here," He replied. "Did you hear about Ginny?"
"Yeah, Fred and George told us." Ron began piling clean clothes in his arms. "Why would Dementors be so far from Azkaban, though?"
"I heard Madam Pomfrey saying that they were looking for Black."
Ron stopped gathering his things and looked at Harry, who met his eyes. "Black can't get in here," The redhead said," grabbing things more slowly.
Neville shrugged, then took his things out of the room to the baths. Ron quietly followed behind, leaving Harry without a word.
Finally alone, the boy pulled his robes off and winced. He must have opened up one of the cuts on his back, because there was dried blood holding his shirt firmly to his back. He slowly started peeling the offensive article of clothing off, hissing when the shirt pulled at the scabs. He laboriously separated his shirt from himself, taking it slowly so he didn't start bleeding again.
He sighed relief when he finished, touching his back softly where he could without hurting himself. The older welts and cuts were nearly healed. He turned to the darkened window to try to see a reflection. The newer cuts were inflamed and some of them were bleeding now.
Uncle Vernon had left him alone for the most part of the three weeks, only letting him out to do the occasional chore or to eat dinner every night, which was the only meal he'd received. The night before Harry's departure, his uncle had spoken to Harry again, telling him that if he wanted to survive the next summer, he had better keep his mouth shut and tell no one. He'd punctuated his statement with his belt. He left Harry afterwords, pausing at the door to tell him, "And tell your friends not to send weird things in the mail anymore."
The whole of Harry's back and shoulders, even some of his upper arms, bore his uncle's warnings. Though on his arms were only raised welts. It hurt the worst where the slashes crossed the healing ones, the skin there seemed to scab the worst.
Harry heard footsteps against the cold stone floor. He hurriedly threw a darker shirt over his frame, grimacing at the deep red stains on his white school undershirt. He only had two or three.
Ron's bare feet tapped against the stone floor. He threw his dirty laundry on his bed and stuck his pinky finger in his ear. "You gonna wash up?" He asked, watching Harry grabbing things from the bottom of his trunk.
"I think I'll just do it in the morning." The brunette answered. "I'm really tired, and I think I ate too much for dinner."
Ron nodded. "Ok…" He shrugged and turned, throwing things in his trunk and throwing his dirty clothes on the floor by the wall.
"My mUm cooks like that sometimes," He laughed. "The food's too good to refuse so I end up with a stomach ache."
Harry laughed and pulled his bedclothes back, then climbed onto the soft mattress. He lay on his side, (he hadn't slept on his back in weeks, and he'd learned that the hard way) and pulled the covers up to his chin, sighing.
It felt good to be back.
The first day at Hogwarts was eventful, to say the least. The entire school must have heard of the train ride, and Malfoy and his group made jokes about it. His demise was foretold in the first class of the day, and in Hagrid's class he rode a Hippogriff, only for said beast to attack Malfoy. Harry was unsure how he felt about that; pleased that karma took care of the blonde Slytherin, but upset because the consequences that would be coming from it.
Harry used the baths first thing in the morning, before most of the other boys were up. He'd only had one close encounter the first few days, and that was when Percy walked in. The older Weasley seemed distracted, though, because he didn't even greet him.
Potions fared worse than any class Harry had; Snape seemed to target Harry, Ron and Hermione. The vehemence he showed them was worse than previous years.
The first potions class they had, Harry tried to appear invisible.
Snape began writing things on the board, which Harry fervently copied, then told the students to take their books out. He began class, explaining the third year potions, and how much more difficult they were, on and on.
He told the students to turn to the first chapter and begin the first potion.
"Ron," Harry whispered, kicking the red-head's foot. "I don't have a potions book…"
Ron frowned. "Why?"
"Well…"
A book slammed hard on their table, immediately drawing the pair's attention to the sound.
"I said this was an individual project. Which word did you two not understand?" He lifted the rather large tome from the table.
"Uh… sorry…sir…" Ron mumbled, looking back to his cauldron.
"Potter," he addressed the other boy. "Where is your book? Forgot to bring it today?"
"I uh, lost it at… home." He said, the last word falling sourly from his lips. He hadn't meant to add as much emotion as he did, and once it fell from his lips he looked away from the professor.
Snape stood still a moment. Harry's emotion through the words was so forceful, even an idiot couldn't have missed it. But he never let much take him by surprise, and even fewer things dumbfounded him. "Use his book for today, but do not speak. Detention tonight; and ten points from Gryffindor for unpreparedness." He turned, his robes whipping about behind him, and walked back to the front of the classroom. "You have until the end of class to present your potions."
Harry reported to the Potions classroom an hour before dinner.
"Sit." Professor Snape said. He gathered his books and papers, organizing them on his desk, all the while Harry sat patiently at the table.
A dirty, well worn book was dropped in front of him, dust floating onto the table top. "Seeing as you forgot your book at home…"
"It was lost." Harry corrected.
"Don't interrupt me," he snapped. "You need to learn respect, Potter. I will not tolerate what you get away with so easily around the other… adults."
Harry glared back at Snape, but remained silent.
"As I was saying, since you forgot your book at home, you may use this copy. I will not provide for a student that takes nothing serious."
Harry took the book. 'Not like much else I own is new,' he thought dryly.
"Now, on top of your homework for identifying different ingredient substitutes for these potions, you are to copy the first chapter, word for word."
Harry took the quill placed on the table beside the book as the professor places parchment on the other side.
"The whole chapter, sir?" Harry asked curtly.
Snape glared. "As much as you can in an hour." He said between gritted teeth. "And it must be presentable." He strode towards his desk, his fists curled tightly. Had this boy no manners? How did all the other teachers put up with him?
He sat in his chair, rubbing the sides of his head. The first week was not over and Potter already had his head pounding.
He spent the rest of the hour adding the final touches to the class plans, glancing up occasionally to the boy.
"Go to dinner," He said finally.
Harry stood, gathering the dusty book in his hands, and walked to the large desk. He placed the quill and paper in front of the professor. "There." He said, then turned and left.
Snape glanced the paper over quickly, finding a few spelling errors, before he set it down to go down to the dining hall. The headache was starting to ebb, but he didn't think it would go away very soon, especially in the loudness of the students.
Why did children feel the need to talk so much anyway? If they only spent as much time talking about their classes or studying as compared to the latest love potion or quidditch match, they'd be better off than they were now.
Much as he expected, all the students spent the meal talking with full mouths, nearly as loud as they could.
If Snape was mean before, after the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with the boggart he was viscous.
Harry repeatedly found Neville the one Snape spent his time and attention on. Neville, more nervous in the class, often ended with Snape's classic sneer and his potion being thrown out. Harry's potions weren't all that much better, the book Snape had given him was splotched, with some water stains that caused the ink to bleed and words to become a giant blob of ink on the page.
Harry sat in potions class, trying to decipher the words.
"Potter, you left the potion for too long." Snape said over his shoulder. Harry jumped, then looked at the potions Professor. "I can't..."
"Potter, I'm getting tired of arguments and excuses." He said, not so quietly. "Perhaps if knew as much as you thought you did, then you wouldn't need that book."
Harry glowered and started to stand, only to have Hermione tug his sleeve hard and pull him back into his seat.
"Detention, Potter." Snape met Harry's gaze. "And I suggest you keep your tongue from slipping or else you might not play the first quidditch game."
Harry turned to the book, his knuckles turning white from his grip on his pantlegs.
Detention that evening was spent scrubbing the dirty cauldrons until Snape found them satisfactory. He looked over them each, running his fingers along the inside. "Good enough."
Harry sighed thankfully, his wrist hurt from pressing so hard.
"I expect you to remember this lesson and learn from it. I will not take insolence any longer."
And with that, Harry was dismissed from the room.
Snape did not ban him from quidditch, thankfully, but Harry didn't retort as often.
Wood drilled the group harder than he had in the first two years, which Harry was ungrateful for. Because his back was just healing, he wasn't doing as good as he had previously. Oliver Wood, in his seventh and final year, pushed the team harder each practice.
His attitude began improving over the weeks, much to the relief of Ron and Hermione, who found it odd that he stay as quiet as he had been lately. On numerous occasions they asked him what was wrong, why had he been avoiding them, and why he'd grown 'sullen.'(Which were Hermione's exact words.)
After Ron had announced the upcoming trip to Hogsmeade, Harry's mood soured again. He copied Ron's star chart, and after the quarrel with Crookshanks chasing Scabbers, he followed Ron up to the dormitory.
Harry lay awake on the floor of the Great Hall, the purple sleeping bag he lay on not so much uncomfortable, but all four houses sleeping in the same area kept sleep just out of reach. He stared at the ceiling long after Snape had talked to Dumbledore, long after Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep.
He tried to sleep, but the openness of everything made him feel…vulnerable. He started every time a teacher opened the door to check on them, and was thoroughly thankful when the sun started coming up.
He followed the rest of the Gryffindors back to their dorms to bathe and dress, though he waited until the very last minute to wash up.
He found it odd that the teachers walked whatever hall he was in. It was driving him up the wall. He found a bathroom and ducked in quickly right in front of a few fourth years, thankful he was still shorter than them.
He locked himself in a stall at the end and stood there for a few moments, his forehead pressed against the door. He thought about staying there for a few minutes, or maybe even the rest of the day. He felt sick, angry. Why did they have to follow him so closely?
Harry sat on the floor, his back against the door and his knees against his chest. His hands lay limply beside him on the cold floor as he stared at the colorless ceiling.
He must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to someone knocking on the stall door and calling his name.
"Potter, get out here now." It was Snape.
Groggy, and so sore from sleeping in that awkward position for… however long he had been there, Harry slowly stood. He used the wall to hold himself up and stretched, then turned and opened the stall door. "Must've fallen asleep…" he said quietly, not meeting the potion's master's eyes.
"Fallen asleep? Well, I guess that's excusable," the tall man said snidely, his eyes narrowed and his lips curling in anger. "Well while you had a nice nap, a good portion of the teachers have been searching for you throughout the school."
Harry couldn't help but snort. Even after he realized he'd done it, he didn't care. "That's nice. And the nap was perfec t." He met Snape's eyes, mustering all the defiance he had. He felt the heat well up in his stomach, the anger knotting his insides as his throat tightened.
"Do you think this is a game? A known criminal has been sited on school grounds, in your dormitory no less, and while the teachers are risking their lives to protect you…" He grabbed Harry's collar and pulled him forward.
"Well they haven't been doing their best!" Harry shouted, swiping his arm and breaking Snape's contact. "I guess that it just doesn't matter unless I'm under your noses," he spat angrily, then walked past a shocked Snape out of the bathroom.
Snape reeled at the child's words, the immense hurt that shown in his eyes, but didn't understand. Was he just throwing a tantrum, that he was being punished for his wrong doings? Or…
Snape straightened, smoothing his robes, and turned to follow the boy out. What he said played over and over in his mind, but a child's tantrum just wasn't adding up. He had been more sullen lately, but wasn't that just because he didn't want to be banned from quidditch?
He found Lupin on his way down the empty hall, who informed him that Harry had just been escorted to the potions classroom. A curt thank you and a short walk later found Snape in his classroom, teaching as he normally did, except the snide comments, though.
When class was finally over, he stopped the sullen child, and that's what he looked like now, to stay a moment after class.
"I do not appreciate your attitude, Potter. I will not be spoken to like that." His voice lacked the extreme harsh edge it usually had, but was in no sense nice. "As a result, you have detentions with me for the rest of the week, starting after your last class and until supper. Understood."
Harry simply looked up, his eyes that were just hours ago so aflame with anger, hatred even, now dull.
"Yeah," Harry replied, then walked off.
-= Chapter End=-
Woo! A really long one for ya And all in a day! (And literally, I sat here writing the entire day in short spurts :D) Thanks to video games to help cut my time up so I didn't go crazy! Well anyway, thank you for reading, and I will post soon!
Oh, by the way feel free to comment ;)
