I do not own Harry Potter.


Harry followed Timothy down the hallway, always a step behind. His head was shyly bent and his eyes trained on the other boy's shoes. He interlocked his fingers in apparent nervousness and a tentative smile graced his lips. Timothy had had his concerns after that one particularly vicious smile the other boy had sent him, but, looking at him now, the Slytherin Squib couldn't have looked any more harmless.

Timothy smiled back at the newest student and a sense of empowerment tickled him. He had never had anybody asking him for help like this. He had never had another student following him before. Timothy was the obvious leader here and he couldn't help but glow in the moment. Was this what it felt like to stand on top of others? Was this what it would be like if…?

No, Timothy couldn't shift back to those thoughts now. Focus on the Slytherin.

"So what have the Slytherin been doing to you?" Timothy asked.

Harry tensed and glanced up in slight panic before he bit his lip and whispered, "They ignore me. Never even one glance at me. They don't do anything, actually, and…and that's what scares me so much." Timothy watched as the other boy paled. "I know they hate me."

Timothy couldn't possibly fathom what was so horrible about being ignored; it was certainly better than being outright bullied. Yet the way Harry seemed to helplessly fret over it caused Timothy to feel a slight protectiveness choke him. They might have been in the same year, but Harry seemed so fragile. Timothy felt that one simple push would shatter the other boy. He couldn't allow that to happen. Even if he was a Slytherin, Harry was one of them, a Squib.

"Don't worry about it," Timothy grinned. "You won't have to worry about that anymore. You can just ignore those slimy gits right back. All you have to do is come talk to me or any of the other Squibs. We'll help you out. You don't need them."

A strange flicker sparked in Harry's eyes before it disappeared a moment later. "Thank you."

Timothy smiled. "Hey, we've got to stick up for each other, right?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Right."

When they reached the Biology class, Timothy promptly dragged Harry over to meet Leila. She seemed to take an automatic liking to Harry and the three of them were comfortably seated together by the time the professor began. Leila, being her brilliant self, quickly understood the majority of the lesson. Timothy struggled before he could finally comprehend it and smiled in victory before he realized that Harry's brow was furrowed in complete confusion. By the time the class was over, the entire lecture was recorded perfectly into the Slytherin's notebook but Timothy automatically knew by the boy's expression that everything had completely flown through one ear and out the other.

"Hey, Harry," Timothy asked as they left the room. "Did you…find the lesson interesting?"

Leila, who was walking beside him, burst into a brilliant smile. "It was fascinating! I've been looking forward to this unit for years! How those enzymes work and affect us…now we can finally begin understanding the chemical explanations for them!"

Harry was biting his lip again and a slightly panicked look overwhelmed the other boy's features. Timothy automatically moved in to do damage control.

"Well, I found the lesson rather difficult, Leila."

She pouted and stuck out her tongue. "Tim, you're no fun!"

Harry tightened his grip on his books before he quietly whispered, "I didn't get it."

Leila glanced over at Harry in surprise before her face softened and guilt took over. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I forgot that you were new." She sighed and asked, "If you really need help, Timothy and I could tutor you."

"No!" Harry vehemently shook his head. "I…I can't do that to you. You've got your own schedule, you own studies…"

"Hey," Timothy grinned. "What are friends for?"

The Slytherin literally stopped in his tracks in shock. "You…you just said…"

"That's right," Leila smiled. "Timothy just said friends. We're friends now. No way are we leaving you to flounder."

Harry seemed frozen for a longer moment before he broke in a blindingly thrilled expression. "I don't know how to thank you guys enough! I-I'm really glad I met you guys!"

Timothy felt a flutter of that superiority again, that strength he never knew he could have. He quickly glanced over at Leila and, from the way her cheeks were slightly flushed and her eyes were sparking, she felt it too. This power they had never experienced before in their lives came from this one, shy boy. This one Slytherin was what gave them the chance to stand a step higher than they had been standing before. With him under their wing, they were no longer at the bottom of the ladder.

Timothy had felt this high throughout the entire Biology class. Every time Harry's eyes bled confusion, he felt more powerful. Every time Harry nervously wrung his hands beneath the table, he felt more powerful. Every time Harry hesitantly glanced his way for direction, he felt more powerful. Gryffindors were supposed to be helpful, honorable, right? Well wasn't helping this new Squib helpful? Wasn't helping this new student good? Surely this feeling of…empowerment couldn't be bad when it stemmed from this good. This wasn't selfishness. This wasn't an evil hunger for power that those of the Dark always succumbed to. No, this kind of power was good, Timothy decided. After all, if Harry was so happy, who was Timothy to deprive him of his happiness?

"Come to us anytime," he smiled at Harry. "We'll help you."

~0~

Harry had to stop himself from blanching…for the hundredth time. He felt absolutely disgusted after an entire day of playing the helpless little puppy around Timothy and his annoying know-it-all friend, Leila. Playing the helpless victim always made Harry feel filthy. Dirty. It wasn't like him to stoop so low. He hadn't necessarily planned to paint such a needy picture of himself especially after his little performance in the Transfiguration class. He had gone to Timothy planning to place a foot in the Squib hierarchy. That had been it.

But Harry knew that all good plans never worked out. There was no such thing as a good plan because even the best plan only lasted for a second before one had to improvise. After seeing the Squib's expression and glee at Harry's innocent and hurt image, Harry knew right then and there that the best way to nurture his tool's need for power was to continue that image. Yet a small, traitorous part of him rejoiced in the making of friends, even if they were superficially so.

It was a good thing Squibs and wizards never conversed. Otherwise, his little Squib tool would have known that today had all been an act. But Harry couldn't bank on that forever. There was always the slightest chance that something would leak. There was always the slightest chance that one little slip would send all of this to ruins. The way he held himself in the magical class had been completely different from his mannerisms in the Muggle classes. Imagine what it would be like if Timothy and other Squibs saw the truth? Harry couldn't have that.

So how to prevent such a thing?

Harry sighed and leaned back into an armchair at the perimeter of the Slytherin Common Room. The soft emerald leather cradled his slim body and the fire blazing in the fireplace just a few feet away kept him relatively warm. He sat in such a way that he was rather unnoticeable but capable of observing the entire Common Room at the same time. This was really the only time for him to observe his fellow Housemates in their "natural habitat". Outside the room, they had their masks up. In here, everybody loosened up a little even with Harry in the vicinity.

Harry almost laughed. Well, loosened wasn't necessarily the right for it. They were certainly less stoic but Slytherins thrived on the day-to-day verbal and mental sparring. People were constantly testing each other, trying to get the advantage.

This was Harry's environment. Watered down, for sure, but still his environment. Being the weak Squib didn't sit well with him. He wondered how much longer he would have to keep this up. His magic was restricted, but he could play this manipulative game - magic or no magic. Harry sighed again and turned his mind back to his main problem.

He could try to increase the rift between the Squibs and the wizards and witches. That would be easy enough. But there was still that possibility of that one student leaking. He could force the magical students to keep their mouths shut but that would only significantly increase the difficulty of reaching his ultimate goal. His actions in keeping the wizards and witches quiet would have to be enforced in Slytherin as well and he wanted to gain their trust, not create an even wider chasm. Perhaps he could force the magical students to remain silent through another. He knew how to manipulate somebody into acting as he wished. That was already evident through Timothy. But what good would that do? It would only raise suspicion. Why, they would ask, would they have to keep quiet about Harry Evan's actions? It would all lead to him in the end.

Harry licked his lips and quietly observed as Blaise won yet another round of chess against a fellow Slytherin. Harry enjoyed chess. It was a mentally stimulating game that revealed more about the opponent than many realized. Perhaps it was cliché, but Harry often likened his plans and plots to a chess game. He had not doubt that Tom did the same thing. Whenever Harry played against Tom, he was forced to focus completely or suffer immediate humiliation with his guardian's silky "checkmate" after a mere minute. Harry had never won, but that never stopped him from trying. The one time he had been a move away from victory, he had leaped too quickly and lost. Perhaps this situation with the Squibs and wizards was not so different. After losing that one close game, Tom had told him that sometimes the best strategy was to simply sit, wait, and listen. More often than not, the opponent would get caught up in his or her own drive and slip. Or, in Harry's case, perhaps his little situation would just play itself out without any interference.

Not that Harry thought about it, it made perfect sense. The Squibs and magicals naturally distrusted each other. Years of prejudice and degradation had left a rather large gap between the two. If Timothy happened to walk up to Slytherins and accused them of abusing poor little Harry, nothing would truly result from it. The Slytherins would reject such accusations because, in reality, they hadn't done anything. With his Squib mindset and fierce loyalty to an apparently harmless classmate, Timothy wouldn't believe a word and continue to blame. It would just be a baseless argument between two entities that would never bow to the other's claims. Any mention of Harry's actions in class would mean nothing to Timothy or his Squib relations in the face of "outright" denial of bullying.

A small smirk wormed its way on to Harry's face. He had nothing to worry about. Sure, his words in the first Transfigurations class had been bold and self-assured, but if he stuck to himself for the next few months, nobody would remember that one freak incident. If he kept his head low and unobtrusive, the magical students would eventually ignore his presence in their classes and consider him just another Squib.

It would be tiring to keep up for sure, but Harry felt that the end result would be worth it.

~0~

The Potions class went into a slight hush as Harry stepped inside. Very rarely did any class fall even slightly silent for anybody other than the professor teaching. But Evans just happened to have bad luck with a Gryffindor-Slytherin class combo again with more than half of the students witness to his earlier performance in Transfiguration. Astoria supposed that Evans was just lucky that Weasley didn't have this particular class at this time. She herself had been a witness and she had been pleasantly surprised. Blaise had attempted to deter Evans from taking any magical classes early on and she had approved. But after seeing how the Squib handled himself with Weasley, she suddenly felt that having something new might not be so bad after all. She was all about discovery. Astoria loved that sort of dysfunctional feeling it created when things just didn't fit with the puzzle of order.

She carefully watched as the Squib made his way to sit in the center of the room just as he had in the previous magical class. The hidden meaning in such a move wasn't lost on her. She had grown up in a family swarmed in politics. She knew what a declaration of neutrality was when she saw it.

Something about Evans was…different. She knew through Blaise's uncomfortable glances that she wasn't the only one that thought so. None of the other Slytherins seemed to have caught on quiet yet, but she knew that they would eventually. That uniqueness about the Squib couldn't go unnoticed. That difference was just too disquieting to ignore for long.

Astoria wasn't sure whether that difference was a good thing or a bad thing.

But, once again, the Greengrass heiress wasn't averse to change and she was willing to accept change when it slapped her in the face. She had never known a Squib to act so boldly against a wizard (as pathetic as Weasley was). This was oddly…refreshing. Annoying to a degree, but refreshing.

Suddenly the door burst open and Professor came sweeping into the classroom with a magnificent billowing of his black robes. Whatever conversation had persisted after Evans's entrance immediately ceased in the professor's presence.

Astoria smirked and wondered how the newest Squib would deal with their Head of House. She entertained ideas of seeing Evans burst into tears just as a Hufflepuff would every now and then.

Professor Snape settled his piercing black eyes upon the assembled and drawled, "Wands away. I would hope you remember by now that there is to be no silly wand waving in my class."

Several Gryffindors guiltily looked away and quickly stashed their wands in their robes. None of the Slytherins, including Evans, moved a muscle. They already knew what it would mean to look less than perfect in Professor Snape's class.

"We will be brewing a Alihotsy Draught today. Would anybody care to articulate what, exactly, a Alihotsy Draught does?"

Astoria smiled and primly raised her hand. Her mother had shown her this particular draught the past summer, knowing it would be on the curriculum. It was always best for a Greengrass to be a little ahead.

"Ms. Greengrass."

"The Alihotsy Draught is a potion made from the Alihotsy plant. Drinking it or inhaling its fumes induces hysteria," Astoria quickly but coherently supplied.

She smiled as the professor nodded in approval and said, "Five points to Slytherin." He turned on the spot and rapped his wand against the board, startling some of the Gryffindors and even a Slytherin or two. "The instructions are on the board. Gather your supplies and place a sample of your completed work on my desk at the end of the period." The professor opened his mouth to command them to begin only to abruptly stop in mid-motion.

Astoria curiously followed her Head of House's line of sight and was only mildly surprised to see that it directly led to none other than Harry Evans.

"You are the new student?" the professor brusquely inquired.

Evans flicked his emerald eyes up to the professor's and merely nodded.

"Speak when spoken to, boy."

There was a terse moment of silence before Evans relented and murmured, "I am."

"Then I will let this go just once. Are you aware that you need a partner in this class?"

Evans glanced around and the smallest hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he replied, "I'm afraid that there is an uneven number of students, sir."

Professor Snape snapped his eyes across the classroom in a quick scan before he scowled. "You are new. I will not have an inexperienced brewer navigate the room alone. I do not wish to find myself with yet another melted cauldron."

Astoria could almost hear the entire class hold their breath. They had seen Evans's reaction to Weasley's comment. What would he do now? It was obvious that the professor was insinuating the Squib's inadequacy.

"You are right," Evans agreed to the class's disappointment. "I would not wish to inconvenience you, sir."

The professor only nodded once and Astoria suddenly found herself looking straight into the man's onyx eyes.

"Ms. Greengrass. With your expertise in this class I expect you capable of dealing with Mr. Evans. You may begin."

It took the class a moment before they realized that the last sentence had been directed to them all. They hastily started into action the moment the command sank in. Nobody wanted to be called out for lollygagging.

Astoria felt a flutter of irritation. Why was she lumped together with the Squib? Sure the boy was entertaining from a distance. But she didn't want to compromise her Potions grade just because a Squib wanted to feel a little magical by taking classes with the rest of them. She huffed and picked up her bag before resettling beside Evans.

"Gather the ingredients on the board," she snapped the second she placed her bag down and pulled out her Potions book. That task shouldn't be too hard. All of the supplies were labeled in the supply closet.

Astoria felt more than saw Evans's body tense in reaction to her hostility before he relaxed and did as he was told. She felt a sort of vicious satisfaction in having affected the Squib. He deserved it for disrupting her path towards success.

In truth, she knew that it would probably take Evans more time to gather the materials needed because it would probably be his first time even entering the supply closet. At least all of the other students had five years of experience plucking the ingredients needed. This would cut down on their time but Astoria felt another vicious righteousness at forcing the Squib to suffer through it.

So imagine her surprise when her designated partner came back before anybody else who had stood up to gather the supplies.

Astoria narrowed her eyes and looked at Evans closely. He looked back at her, completely impassive with his sparkling eyes glittering with…amusement?

"Don't you think we should begin?" he asked with a small quirk of his mouth.

Astoria scowled and wordlessly began to brew.

She was embarrassed to say that, by the end of the class, Evans had proved far more helpful than any other partner she had ever had in her years at Hogwarts. At first, he had silently stood to the side, sensing her irritation. He only began to speak when she began to cut the Alihotsy plant.

"It's better to crush it with the flat of your blade," he had advised. "More of the fluid comes out of it that way."

Astoria had frowned and pointed out that the book clearly said to cut the plant, not crush it.

Evans had given her a look that screamed, "You're not really that stupid, are you?"

Astoria was, by no means, stupid. So she had shamelessly taken the bait and crushed the plant and dumped it into the bubbling cauldron. She had been pleasantly surprised to see that the potion immediately turned the perfect shade of turquoise described in the Potions book.

After that, she had grudgingly taken all of Evans's advice into consideration and ended up being the first to place a vial of perfect Alihotsy Draught on Professor Snape's desk.

A bitter taste of defeat lined Astoria's mouth as she tore her mind away from the memory and glared at the floor as she left the Potions classroom. Her potion (or rather, Evans's potion) had been proclaimed immaculate and she now held yet another O in her grades. It was a shallow win for her, though, and she had infinitely more questions pertaining to the newest Slytherin Squib. Being his partner had cleared nothing up. It had solidified none of her preconceptions. Who was Evans really? How did he know all of those brewing tricks? How could he have known to brew something better than the Potions book itself when he was nothing more than a Squib?

The questions were never-ending, but something akin to respect now outlined Astoria's vision of Harry Evans.


I know, I know...it's been FOREVER since I've updated. I can honestly say, though, that my exams have been consuming my every thought for the last month. Damn that Pre-Calculus. And I used to think mathematics was easy. What happened to the good old days when I didn't even have to study for tests?

But I suppose that's really no excuse, right? I know what it's like to wait :P

And sorry for going so slowly with the story. I'm actually much better at writing the little interludes between the main turning points in the story rather than the turning points themselves so, yes, I'm stalling but I also believe that the little interludes are important to developing the climaxes.

So in case it was too confusing: Harry's problem is that he already painted himself this confident figure in the Transfigurations class with the whole embarrassing Ron and the whole shebang. Then he goes and ends up acting all meek and submissive around Timothy and the other Squibs. Quite a contradicting picture, no? But Harry finds out that acting all weak around the Squibs is what causes their ego to boost even more and that's ultimately what he is aiming for because increasing their ego will increase their need for equal treatment. On the other hand, he can't have his other image disrupting his acting because he can't just go and continue to act all meek with the magical students. They already saw his confident image. He can't take that back...yet.

So for now, he's stuck with patiently waiting it out and acting his parts. Gain respect and his place in the magical classes while gaining the sympathy and boosting Squib ego in Muggle classes.

Thanks to all my reviewers again :) It's really inspires me to keep writing despite my terrible tendency to get too wrapped up in other fanfics XD

Not edited (again!) btw so sorry for any mistakes or weird holes...