I nodded numbly, still shocked by the confrontation and followed him downstairs. I felt guilty since I knew that it was because of my future fight with Voldemort that my parents sent Harry away, and that made him think he was an orphan. As I calmed down, I was able to push away the guilt and focus on the game. Harry Potter didn't come back to the dormitory that night, nor the morning after.

Chapter 3

I woke up the next morning and dressed as usual. But when I looked over towards the other Potter's bed, I saw that it was empty. I walked towards his bed and looked to see if there was any indication that he had slept on it last night. I became worried when I noticed that the sheets had the same dip they had last night when Ron sat there.

"You ready to go?" Ron asked, yawning. I nodded and picked up my book bag.

"Ron, I don't think he came back last night." He stopped and looked at me.

"Are you sure?" I nodded.

"The same creases you made last night are still there." He frowned, and then shrugged.

"He probably wanted to sleep in the common room when he came back to avoid us." I agreed with him but continued down to breakfast.

I didn't really think much about Harry Potter for the rest of the morning, except I noticed he wasn't in class. After lunch, we walked down to Herbology, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized I had stepped on something that wasn't the path.

We had the path memorized by now, which made walking in the deep snow easier, but you couldn't see what was under the snow. We were the first and only class to go to Herbology on Monday so we had no footprints to follow except the professor's.

I moved back and examined what I stepped on. I felt fear run through me when I saw that whatever I had stepped on had the same color as Harry Potter's shirt the day before.

"Oh, no!" I dug in the snow with Ron and Hermione, and when we had uncovered the buried thing, I realized it was Harry Potter. I looked up at Ron, whose eyes were wide and fixated on the boy. Hermione put her hand on his chest and we watched as it went up and down with his light breathing. "He's alive."

I let out a sigh of relief, since he looked like he was dead. "Let's take him to the Hospital Wing." Ron and I agreed and we picked him up and took him back up to the school.

We passed our fellow dorm mates who questioned us, "What happened?"

"Do you know who did this?"

"Is he alive?"

No, we have no idea how this happened, we just found him.

"Is he going to be okay?"

No idea, he's alive but that's as much as we know.

"Why is there blood on his face?" I looked down, sure enough, there was blood all over his face; and I don't know why I didn't notice it before.

I looked up at Ron. "We'd better hurry and get him up there." He nodded and we moved into the Entrance Hall. "POTTER! WEASLEY!"

We jumped and turned around. Snape was heading towards us, and he didn't seem to be in a good mood. He looked at Potter's frozen body, then up at us. "Which of you did this?" We shook our heads. "It wasn't us, we just found him." He glared at us suspiciously, and then took the limp body out of our hands. "Go to class."

He never left any room to argue, and this was definitely one of those times where he cut us off because he was angry. We walked back to the Greenhouses in silence because none of us knew what to say. Harry Potter didn't come back that night.

When I did see Potter, it was a week after Professor Snape had taken him. I became worried that the guy was seriously ill since Snivellus also canceled class and didn't appear in the Great Hall for any of his meals for an entire week. When he came back, he was in his usual bad mood, though he seemed to act softer around Potter. The Monday he got back, Snape called me up to his desk after everyone else left.

"Mr. Potter, I'd like some information from you," he said putting away the samples of potions we had made.

"Okay."

He shut the door of his study and sat back down. "A week ago, the other Mr. Potter was injured, as you know, but I found it curious that besides having hypothermia, the only other injury was a nose bleed." Well, that explained the blood on his face.

"So what does this have to do with me?"

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously, "When I asked him why he had been outside in the first place, he said that he had had a fight with his dorm mates and it shook him up." My eyes widened when I realized what he was trying to say. "No, you've got the wrong idea. I never beat him up."

Snivellus stood up and gritted his teeth. "Oh, really? That's interesting. The day after you had some sort of disagreement, you happen to 'find' him in the snow with a nosebleed. But considering the temperature outside, he should have been dead long before you found him. Is there anything you'd like to confess before I contact your parents? This is more than just a case of sibling quarrels, this is close to murder.

"I've seen you, I know about the flying, the troll, and countless other things. But then again, knowing your father, he'll probably congratulate you on a job well done. Is that what he told you to do at the beginning of the year? Harass your twin, knowing that he had no idea you existed before—let alone that his parents were still around?" I blinked a few times trying to figure out how he knew Harry and I were related, since I had forgotten about that note he read at the beginning of term.

I panicked, trying to find a way to not have my parents contacted for something I didn't do for once. "He doesn't know!" I blurted out, regretting it a moment later.

"Know what, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape sneered. I took a minute to pause before continuing.

"My dad doesn't know Harry's here."

"LIAR!" He yelled, almost turning a bit pink, which looked awful next to his normal skin tone.

"Harry never lived with us—I just met him this year. Harry still has no idea; he just thinks it's a coincidence that our last names are the same. Ron and I are the only ones who have made the connection." I moved to leave, but before I opened the door Snape spoke again.

"When are you going to tell him? I don't care about your father, but when were you going to tell your brother that he actually had family in the Wizarding World—family that's even been sharing a dormitory with him—this whole time?" Professor Snape asked. I stopped, I hadn't thought of that.

"Someday, probably when we're seventeen. It's not as though it's something that's important enough to be told now." At that moment all I wanted to do was get out of there.

"Do you honestly think it's the right to withhold such information from him? What if he's not around long enough to live six more years?" I didn't answer him; I just left. As I walked down the corridor, I wondered what he had meant by that.