Disclaimer: You really want to read about my obnoxious plight?

x.X.x

And Until You Understand the Basics

x.X.x

Severus regretted that he had ever walked into the room.

It felt like a mother dragon whose egg had been damaged was on a rampage through the infirmary. Poppy was everywhere and nowhere all at once. She had situated Harry into what she had dubbed "his bed" more or less. It bothered them all that Harry was in the infirmary so much already that he had earned his own bed there. Poppy had begun to throw a fit somewhere in the middle of her list of casting the diagnostics charms. She had to go and sit in her office for a few moments to calm down, Severus taking over for the moment. He had a sneaking suspicion that she went and had a break-down. No one had ever seen the matron so upset over anything like this before.

Harry had been set into the bed that was fourth from the door on the left. He had been shaking uncontrollably and scratching at his skin as if trying to tear it off. His eyes were closed, but one could still see the near desperation there on his face. He had bitten through his bottom lip and blood trickled down his chin. Bruises and scratches were the most prominent things to be seen, but the cause of the clawing was not.

Snape froze in his movements when he heard a mumbling come from the bed. When it didn't come again, Snape continued with the scans. It had to have been his imagination. He briefly wondered what had Poppy in tears when the boy didn't come up as violated in any way. His answer came quickly and it shocked him so much more than the violation thought had. Could it be? He cast the spell again. There it was. Now that he'd seen it, he could have killed himself for not seeing it earlier.

"Pop–" The Potions Master was cut off as the matron rushed in with multiple potions' vials in her hands.

"Hold him still."

Severus held tightly to the too thin shoulders, his hands holding the too boyish face. Poppy pried Harry's clenched teeth open and carefully poured potion after potion into the orifice. Harry gagged and choked, trying valiantly to spit out the watery substance. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly; his mouth snapping shut the minute Poppy let go. The prickling feeling eased a bit before Harry realized that Poppy had given him potions meant to help; not harm.

Snape released his hold on Harry who was no longer scratching at his hands and arms. Madame Pomfry gave him a sympathetic look and pulled out her wand; healing the scratches. Severus' hands were still a little red, positive Harry had a vicious side in him, but it would fade in a few minutes. Harry grunted and moaned, turning on his side away from the Mediwitch and professor. He cradled his head in his hands and attempted to burrow in the sheets.

"Harry…what is it Harry?" The Mediwitch sat on the bed; a very unprofessional thing to do.

"Needles…" Harry hissed.

Staring at the boy in shock Severus spat, "I thought you said that he couldn't talk."

A calming and numbing spell was cast and then, "He can't."

"I'm not deaf, Pomfry. I heard him. That…that was Parseltongue!"

"Well then," Poppy snapped, "If you haven't noticed—he didn't speak; he hissed," she reached over to untangle Harry from the sheets.

"Same thing!"

"It bloody well is not!"

"Well then, whatever you want to call it–"

"Do you not think that you are too old to be arguing about such nonsense things? You even have a patient who needs his rest."

The Mediwitch glared at the Headmaster for all she was worth as he walked in the infirmary; chastising them like children. The Potions Master merely glared into the bed Harry lay on. It wasn't that he wouldn't glare at the Headmaster; it was probably because he wouldn't be able to stop. Minerva was behind him, her face pulled tightly in a scowl. She looked quite threatening with some of her hair falling stray from her severe bun it was usually kept in. Albus chuckled at his hostile staff members and conjured a nice fluffy chair next to the foot of Harry's bed.

"How are you feeling, my boy?"

"Albus," McGonagall started, "He doesn't speak."

"He does," Snape griped.

Poppy glared, "He does not."

Harry looked down at the Headmaster. Despite the fact that he may indeed make a good grandfather, he was nothing of the sort to Harry. He wasn't anything to Harry. Dumbledore may be a good guy somewhere inside, but Harry still had yet to see it. There was a dark feeling towards the man somewhere in the back of his throat, but Harry was too reluctant to put a name to it; to whatever might waver what little good thought he had towards Dumbledore. McGonagall, he didn't mind so much. She was just doing things as she thought right. She didn't favor any one student over the other unless in some such extreme cases; such as himself. He could easily trust the woman if he tried. Her worried, stern and caring nature touched him in a grandparent-aunt kind of way. While it wasn't as deep as Poppy's, she was still in the running for third place.

The Headmaster continued on like Harry had spoken, "That's good. For a moment, I thought something irreparable had been done." Incredulous looks were spared to him then, "I would like to punish these students, but unfortunately, they have not been released as of now," Madame Pomfry threw a disgusted look at the side of Dumbledore's head, "But do not fear, the ministry will be coming tomorrow to check the student's wands. I trust that you stay out of their way and not cause anything to happen that may result in a negative over the case. Now, if you will, I must have a word with your care provider."

The instant the word 'care provider' left the Headmaster's lips, Harry's hands shot up and spelled the word 'mother' into the air. Behind the Headmaster, someone gasped. Harry's hands trembled from exhaustion as they were held in the 'pick me up' motion. Madame Pomfry frowned at Dumbledore and went to scoop up her ward. "Whatever you say can be said around Harry as well. He has done nothing wrong here."

A strange look passed over Dumbledore's face, "Alright. I concede," he leaned forward in his seat and began to outline his plans, "I believe Mr. Potter here should be with an adult at all times. If he is not with an adult, then a Prefect or the Head boy or girl should be with him. We cannot have him wandering the school alone."

"You can't be serious," Poppy deadpanned, "He's fine on his own."

"Yes, he was so fine tonight." Severus snipped.

"This is his first time with all the students in the castle. He was overwhelmed." Poppy defended, "Besides, no one had to look after him before—during the summer."

"What if it was a Prefect, Albus?" Minerva cut in, "We haven't caught the culprits yet and it could be anyone!"

Albus sighed, "It wasn't."

"How would you know?!" McGonagall raged, "You believe in the good of everyone! It could have been your Head Boy for all we know!"

McGonagall must have been scared beyond wit's end if she could find it in herself to yell at the old geezer. The matron turned to Severus as Minerva continued to argue with Albus. She asked him quietly, "Will you watch him during the day?"

Snape didn't like to admit it, but he would do almost anything for Poppy. She was like his savior—his mother—when he was at Hogwarts. She believed him even when the Headmaster refused to do so. The real reason he stocked the infirmary was not because he had to, it was because Poppy asked him to. She could easily make most of the potions herself or order them like she was supposed to. The only thing she orders now is just more than the average amount of infirmary potion ingredients for him.

While it wasn't shocking that she was asking him to look after the brat in her arms, it still irked him that it was Potter. He stared at the back of the bed-mussed head and noticed the subtle tensing of his shoulders. What a strange little boy. Perhaps he would benefit a bit from watching over the squirt. Still… "No. Absolutely not."

"Stop staring at him like that!" Poppy reprimanded before she responded with a quiet, "Thank you, Severus."

x.X.x …Such sweet sadness in your eyes… x.X.x

Morning came swiftly, the dew beading on the window sills and a fresh earthy scent blew through the nonexistent window glass throughout the castle. Harry slowly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He was not longer in the infirmary; he wasn't even in his own room that was attached to the matron's. The ceiling above him had a greenish tint that made it look like water had stained the surface one too many times. The fireplace in the corner looked like perhaps it had seen one too many winters with its fires happily crackling in its grates.

Rolling his eyes to the left, he noted that the walls were almost in the same condition as the ceiling and that there were no windows. His dressing table and trunk were located at the foot of the bed across the room. Rolling his eyes to the right, he noted the nightstand that held a single lamp and a couple of books that he was used to reading during the night. It was something that Snape had gotten him for his ninth birthday and the other was something the matron had given him to pass time with.

Harry slowly sat up, mentally noting the pain in his ribcage area and the weakness in his limbs. Memories of the night came flooding back to him making him tremble beneath the sheets. His magic frantically searched out the matron in the unfamiliar room space. He couldn't feel her anywhere except for the small traces that she had been there at one point. Crawling to the foot of the bed, Harry looked over the edge to the floor. A deep moss carpet met his gaze and though it looked soft, Harry had a feeling that it would open up and swallow him whole. Where was Poppy and why wasn't she there with him? Did he do something wrong?

Tears welled up in his eyes. Harry slid back to the headboard and tucked himself under the quilts. He curled into a ball and tried to fight back the tears that had not yet fallen. Poppy would never abandon him. Not like this. He tucked his head into his arms and silently wept to himself with frozen tears. The matron would never have left him in an unfamiliar place without telling him first…right?

With that thought, Harry stuck his hand under the many pillows on the bed. If Poppy ever left him with someone overnight or she had to be somewhere before he awoke the next day, she would leave him a small note under his pillow. She used to leave it on top of the pillows but soon found that to be inconvenient when the school occasionally decided to let wind through its charmed, glassless windows.

Harry pulled his hand back, pulling a slip of parchment with it. On one side was a note written in the matron's barely legible handwriting, on the other, was a hand-drawn moving image of a dragon…well…it looked like one. Harry smiled at her attempt to draw the beautiful beast. Wiping the tears and sleep from his eyes, he pulled the quilt a bit, enough to make a sliver of light glow on the paper.

Harry,

I left you with Professor Snape last night. You will stay with him for the duration of the week (with no tears) so that Professor McGonagall may have some peace of mind about your safety. If you need anything and I mean anything don't hesitate to fire-call or have Severus fire-call me. I plead that you don't run the man haggard or get on his nerves.

I left two books on the nightstand at your disposal. You still have free reign of the library before and after hours, but if you need to get into the restricted section, you must request a pass from Professor Snape. Keep up your studies and don't forget to eat! Remember, we want to get into Hogwarts, yes? And if not that, we will become the greatest Healer ever known. I will see you soon.

Love,

Poppy

Hazarding a look from beneath the quilt and saw dark splotches beneath his door where the light came through. Someone was standing there. Two some ones to be exact as he heard two voices conversing on the other side. He recognized both voices instantly, the rich baritone was Professor Snape and the softer more feminine, but strong, voice belonged to Poppy. He tucked the quilt around his arms, leaving only enough space to look through with one eye as the door opened.

"Harry?" Poppy's voce called into the dimly lit room.

Snape stood in the doorway behind her, "It's nine. He should be awake by now. I will not allow for this child to sleep in and skip breakfast every day."

"Oh, shush, Severus. He usually is awake by six and reading over something or another. Besides, he's already awake," the matron directed her next sentence to Harry, "Which he shouldn't be and moving around like he's not in pain."

"How can you even tell if that lump's awake?" Severus grouched, indicating the lump Harry made in the quilts.

The mediwitch pointed to a small opening in the tower of quilts that had an emerald eye staring out from it at them. It blinked once before disappearing briefly. Out of the small opening, a slip of paper was pushed out before the eye took its place back in front of the opening.

Poppy sighed and walked over to the bed, talking calmly to Harry as if he was talking back, "Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling? I know you must still be sore from yesterday. You passed out you know," she un-tucked the quilts from around the small boy and lay him out straight. Harry curled back into a ball again and the matron, with all the patience in the world, laid him back out flat. Harry didn't curl up again, "I know you're upset with me, but you must understand Harry…I will have students in and out of the infirmary everyday and sometimes all day. You told me just yesterday that you wanted to start your training in Mediwizardry, did you not?" Harry nodded his head, "Well, there you have it. Severus will be glad to teach you. If not, then he will happily allow you into his lessons so that you may pick up things on your own, okay?"

By the time she was done speaking, she had thoroughly checked over Harry and had him clean, dressed and ready for the day. He was dressed in a calm green shirt and black slacks. His hair was combed neatly out of his eyes, he'd probably need it to be cut soon, and he wore clean white socks. It made him look…distinguished—like a proper young boy rather than the scruffy thing he'd seen that was first pulled from beneath the blankets.

"You know, I had the nicest child come into my office this morning," The matron was speaking softly to Harry as he helped her straighten his bed to be presentable, "He had seen the picture of you on my desk and he wishes to meet you…no, don't be like that Harry. I'm sure he'd still want to be your friend no matter how shy you are," the mediwitch smiled softly and stood up, "You must stop by and meet him later today."

"Stop encouraging the boy, Poppy," Severus groused, "I cannot tolerate this child, much less two."

"Nonsense, you tolerate hundreds of them every day!"

"Yes," Snape acquiesced, "But only in the controlled environment of the classroom where they fear me. I will not have these children thinking I've gone soft."

The matron rolled her eyes and kneeled down to hug Harry tightly, "Well, I must be off now. Be sure to visit me. The infirmary is quite lonely without you."

With that, Madame Pomfry left, leaving Harry and Severus alone. For the first time, Snape allowed his eyes to examine the room. It was simple, dark and quiet. It strangely suited the boy although Severus saw the boy in a more brightly lit room with high windows…something akin to Gryffindor tower. He shuddered at the thought of a room like that being in his quarters.

He looked down at Harry, "Well, come along. Surly you cannot stay in here all day."

To be honest, it still kind of irked Snape that Harry would follow orders blindly. This would get him in trouble one day if he didn't grow out of it. Two years in a normal environment still had not cured this deficiency and Severus knew that the staff feared that this may be something permanent that he'd have to live with for the rest of his life. They even tried to not give direct orders to the boy.

Severus sat at his dining table where breakfast was waiting. Harry took a cautious seat across from the older man and waited for Snape to begin eating before he began to eat his routine morning toast slice. Snape had finished his meal and waited for Harry to finish. He ate so slowly that it was almost painful just for Severus to watch him.

When he finished, Severus sent the boy to go get his books because he would be spending the day with Poppy. Honestly, how that woman could see Severus acting as a guardian to a boy like Harry, was pure blasphemy. Sure, Harry was quiet, but he was too quiet that it scared him sometimes.

When Harry came back with his books in hand, Severus motioned him to the door with a glare on his face. Harry glared back and in pure spite, he marched up to the Potions Master and grasped his hand. Snape shook his hand fiercely to get Harry to let go, but the boy persisted.

"Unhand me this instant, you infernal boy!" Snape growled.

Harry held on tightly and even clutched the hand to his chest with his books. This had Severus bending over slightly in order to not to pull Harry off of his feet. Harry smiled triumphantly when Snape stopped trying to pull his hand away and began to walk out of the door instead.

To the students who saw Snape and Harry on their way to the infirmary, they immediately assumed that the man had a son. Severus thoroughly enjoyed himself as he doled out detentions to many students like candy on Halloween. The students all scurried away like rats or roaches, not intending to get more detentions from the dour man than necessary. They knew better to dwell on the subject.

He pushed open the doors to the infirmary and viciously yanked Harry in by the hand that he still held. Harry grunted at the force and glared up at Severus who only offered the boy an evil smirk in return, "Poppy!"

"Yes?" Poppy came out from her medicine closet putting vials into her pocket, "What brings you here?"

"Don't be daft Poppy," Snape snarled, "You take him. I have class this morning and I refuse to take this cretin with me."

Poppy noticed then that Harry had linked his hand with Severus' and was clutching it to his chest like one of his books. She smiled inwardly as she held out her hand for Harry to take—which he did, immediately releasing Severus and attaching himself to her.

Snape stormed out of the hospital wing then, his black robe snapping out behind him. He paused once in his endeavor to briefly look over the potions stocks in the closet that Poppy had left open.

"I honestly can't see why you like to rile the man so much. What purpose does this serve?" Madame Pomfry sighed, "Well, time to get back to work. Go wash up and put on your Infirmary garb."

Harry nodded and rushed off to do as told. When he came back, Poppy handed him pre-set amounts of certain potions and directed him to different beds where they would be distributed. Harry complied, finally coming to a bed where the occupant was asleep. This must be the boy Madame Pomfry told him about seeing as this was the only boy in the infirmary at this time.

Placing the small measured cup of potion down on the nightstand Harry proceeded to wake the boy. The said boy had a dark sandy-blonde hair that was almost brown in a way, and fair complexion, like he went outside a lot. He was average-sized and even while laying down sleeping, made Harry feel inferior in size. One final shake had the boy waking groggily.

"Wha…?"

x.X.x

Cedric.

The boy had went and made friends with Cedric Diggory. It was either that or Cedric took it upon himself to befriend the quiet boy. How that happened, no one but Poppy would ever know since it did happen in the time that Cedric was in the infirmary. Harry still refused to sit still for long periods or "talk" to the older boy, but he still acknowledged the presence there.

Their friendship progressed from there. Cedric wasn't an outspoken person, but he could sometimes be found having a one-sided conversation with the small boy wonder. Harry never replied or made any motion to suggest that he had heard, but by the time he had turned ten—going on eleven—he had begun to respond to some of the conversations.

Severus watched guardedly as the small boy moved calmly about the room to gather together the supplies for the day's potion. He was sitting with Diggory again and was gathering separate supplies for his own potion. Instead of going to the students' work cabinet; he went to the small storage shelf that Dumbledore had the castle put in. Dumbledore had told Snape to trust that the boy knew what he was doing. That old man must have been out of his mind to put half the things that he had on that shelf: dragon scales and fiend fyre. Trust him? Snape took it upon himself to ward the case to alert him whenever Harry was using a particularly dangerous ingredient.

If Snape were any other man, he would never have recognized the ingredients for a potentially dangerous healing potion. It was very advanced for a first year, but even more so for a no year, and entirely too dangerous to brew all on his own. It used dragon scales for one. Severus had seen this boy whip up batch after batch of this same potion for the past two weeks. He had made enough to stock the Infirmary enough to heal the entire population of Hogwarts for at least a couple of months.

Harry began placing all the ingredients neatly in rows according to how and when each ingredient went in. If everything went according to plan, then the boy-who-lived and half the school should be in need of this. If everything went as planned, then Snape would need this as well. Harry looked up at Snape through his lashes, slowing to a stop in his movements. His white snake which all of the staff dubbed "Winter" lifted its head to look at Snape. What sympathy Harry's look did not give, Winter's did.

Harry began his movements again and in the distance Snape was pretty sure he heard someone screaming. He looked up just in time to see Minerva walk swiftly into the room. She stopped by his desk, her back facing the children and she whispered so low that Severus could barely make out what she said.

"Poppy needs you in the infirmary that instant."

Snape glared and dismissed his class. He spotted Harry still at his worktable, with that damnable Diggory child with him. Harry was still working on his potion. Snape sneered and exited the classroom.

"What happened?"

Minerva was in step with him, their fast pace liking merely like a natural walk, "I don't know. It's some type of infection."

"Like Dragon Pox?"

"No." McGonagall glared at a couple of students that were loitering in the halls, "It's something far more serious—potentially dangerous."

"Do we know anything about it?"

"Nothing except that it's Dark and affects only a certain age group and…physical traits."

"Physical traits? Minerva, there has to be more to it than that."

"There's nothing! Only boys between the ages of ten and eighteen are in the infirmary with this thing. Poppy's doing her best to help them, but the potion can only do so much at one time."

"Potion?" Minerva handed him a small vial of a burgundy-colored potion.

Severus faltered in his steps for a brief moment. Harry had been making the same potion for the past couple of weeks.

A/N:

I know this is late, but I have a reasonable excuse. Some of you may be able to relate to this as well...maybe not the pineapple but probably in the same situation with some other fruit or vegetable or something.

Ugh…okay, so I was cutting up a pineapple with these huge knife and managed to cut the tips off a few of my fingers. It was disgusting, painful and full of hell. I had to replace the bandages at least nine times a day if I didn't want blood to be dripping down onto my laptop keys. Trust me, "search and peck" is not the way to go, but it was hell to try and type any other way.

This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Sweatdrop and all you wonderful people who keep up with this (even if you don't review). Thanks to my wonderful alerted readers. And since I'm all laid out and on the mend so much that I can type a little, I'll draw up some art for y'all. I already drew some, but it was nothing related to what I'am writing right now.

Really, though, don't forget to review any story. It really brings us much joy as writers and makes us want to continue to write for you all.

Next: A little time jump and things get interesting. The TriWizard Tournament and an insight on a few relationships as well. Harry grows up and we begin to see just how curruptive words can be. Dances, deceit and a few new faces. Enter the chapter as the Boy-Who-Lived comes to Hogwarts.

Excerpt: Harry looked on sadly as Amos Diggory hugged his son for the last time; alive. He held on to Cedric like he knew something bad was going to happen but he just couldn't place what. Cedric turned to Harry and smiled. Knowing he couldn't bring a smile to his face, Harry hugged tightly to Cedric before the older boy could see his err.