CHAPTER 10

Harry was reading. He was reading but not really. He was more debating this internal dilemma that had come up these last three days.

First Draco, going completely barmy at his C in Latin. Then Snape had made him re-do the Chem quiz and on Friday during detention he had given the paper back, with an A minus on it. Then he had told him to get lost for the day and so he had done that.

Harry had stared at that paper for a long time. When he closed his eyes, he could still picture it. That blood red A. He honestly, for the life of him, could not understand what Snape wanted. What was he going to do now? What did he expect? Was Harry going to have to get straight As in Chem? Did Snape really want that? But what about his relatives? They were going to get a stroke. Not even in elementary school – after the first two, very naïve, times – had Harry ever dared get higher marks than Dudley. Which had been a very difficult quest at first, but he had gotten the hang of it. And now Snape wanted to upset that careful balance! And from what Draco said, he wanted that too. Although he could understand the latter better. He didn't want to waste time on a nobody like him, and the least Harry could do was get decent marks so that Flitwick could see what a good job Draco had done with him.

He could understand that, and he'd work on that. But Snape?

Harry was still reading in his room when Draco Malfoy barged in. Without knocking.

"You weren't at breakfast." he accused, as if that personally offended him.

"Ehm, no." was the clever response.

"It's Saturday. We get waffles on weekends." he said this as if that explained his outrage at Harry skipping breakfast. Which, he might add, he had done for the past month.

"Ehm..."

"Are you and Granger going to Hogsmeade today?" Draco was full of questions this fine morning. Harry did not particularly like questions.

"No, I don't-"

"You're coming with me then."

"Where?"

"To Hogsmeade. I fancy a butterbeer and that town is the only town in all of Britain that provides it."

"I don't...go to Hogsmeade." Harry said. Hoping against hope that he wouldn't take it personally, as Malfoy tended to do, and act more like Hermione and just let it rest.

"What do you mean by that?" of course he wouldn't let it go.

"I just... I prefer staying here." and not get killed.

"Are you actually refusing to come with me?" Draco looked stunned more than angry. Harry was starting to sweat buckets. There was, however, no way in Hell or Heaven Harry was going to explain Voldemort to him.

"It's just... complicated, please-"

"No, no. I get it. It's fine." and with that Malfoy turned on his heel and let himself out.

Harry felt a little empty at that, and a little at a loss.

He couldn't do anything about that though, because just that morning Theo had told him offhandedly he was remaining at the school this weekend. And Harry had no intention of a repeat of last Sunday. Although it was also probable Theo would just turn a blind eye, as he should. Draco had gone completely overboard for nothing.

Harry could admit in the privacy of his mind that the blond was a tad drama queen.

Draco did not speak to him for the entire weekend. And Harry hated to admit it, most of all to himself, but being so ignored by him gave him an ache in his chest.

Draco did not only not speak, he didn't even look at him.

On Monday, he sent a message through Theo to cancel their tutoring lesson, saying he had had a sudden thing come up.

The excuse was so glaringly pathetic – especially for a Slytherin – that it left Harry feeling hollow. He remained staring at nothing on his bed for a while with a blank mind. Harry would have wanted a little relief, but he was too afraid of getting caught again and being reported for being crazy. He could do nothing to take away the ache and bring his logic back into his head. It was one of his nightmares coming true. Draco – Malfoy – had gotten bored. He had seen what a worthless, ungrateful creature Harry was and he was no longer interested in... whatever had first brought him to speak to Harry. He had even stopped giving him tutoring lessons. He was clearly done with him.

One a deeper, subconscious level he knew it was ridiculously selfish of him to want Draco back. Not only had he been expecting him to get bored and leave from day one, but, all in all, it was much better this way. There was a serial psychopath after him, and recently that monster had resurfaced. It was safer for everybody this way.

Harry hated the stupid, useless tear that rolled into the stupidly soft mattress – he had gotten rid of the stupidly soft pillow his first night – that night. He drifted off into unconsciousness well into early morning only to gasp awake with the terror of a fading nightmare a few hours afterwards. He did not go to sleep again.

Tuesday morning was horrible. He felt like a zombie, absolutely brain dead, and he had to go to Chemistry and listen to Snape lecture in that melodic tenor which sounded more like a soothing rumble than actual words.

Malfoy hadn't glanced at him once.

"Stay behind a moment, Mr. Potter." that pulled him out of his funk. Harry waited with eyes on his desk as the other students filled out, Hermione throwing him a reassuring smile as she left him alone at their desk.

"I demand full attention from my students during lessons, Mr Potter." he started. Harry bowed his head in shame, nails biting into the tremble of his fists.

"I apologize, sir."

"If you are feeling unwell again, then either come to me, or pay a visit to the hospital wing."

"I'm fine, sir."

"That's what you said last time, with thirty-nine degrees of temperature." Snape replied. Harry was taken aback at the reminder, which was probably a nice why of telling him not to make a nuisance of himself again.

"I understand sir." he said, hoping he'd be let go now. Snape gave him a look before waving him away.

There was an indistinct form a little ahead of him, leaning on the wall.

As Harry got closer – it was on the way to History, impossible to avoid – the form acquired blond hair and a Slytherin uniform.

Harry stopped in his tracks, not wanting to be late but in no way about to get in Malfoy's way.

"What did Snape want?" the question came unexpected and in the Malfoy demanding tone.

"Nothing" Harry inched forward, saw the blond wasn't about to pounce on him, and so walked a little more confidently.

"Then why did he make you stay behind?" Draco kept up pace with him.

"Said I look sick." Harry mumbled.

"You do look sick."

"Thanks." Harry couldn't help the smallest sarcasm. After three days of the silent treatment, he just came back? Just like that? Harry was going to die of some heart disease if Draco kept doing that.

"It wasn't a compliment." he quipped, "are you sure you're not sick?" Draco asked again.

"Didn't sleep well" he said it to get him off his back. Everyone was entitled to a bad night, weren't they?

"Mmh"

They arrived just in time for Binn's lecture.

"Shove off." Draco snapped, and the girl from Hufflepuff who usually sat next to him in History scrambled into the only other empty seat, next to Theo Nott.

Harry didn't have time to wonder what the hell because Draco had taken the vacated sit and had started taking out his books. Next to him.

Harry was in a state of confused dizziness for the rest of the period.

He hadn't expected it, but Draco did the same in Math with another 'Puff, glaring at anyone who dared glare back at him for his switch. If Harry wasn't such a coward, he'd have asked him what was up with that.

"I expect you down at practice again today." Draco whispered – he managed to make a whisper sound demanding – during the lesson. At Harry's questioning look, he elaborated, "Tuesday. Soccer. Seven-thirty. Be in the stands."

Draco sat with Theodore as usual in Literature, leaving Hermione to sit and whisper appalled with him.

Apparently, Draco's weird actions weren't just weird to him. It had travelled the school like it was the latest gossip.

"What exactly does Malfoy want from you?" she asked him. They had to be careful because this was McGonagall's class. For Hermione to chat and not pay attention was an event.

I wish I knew was his mental answer. To her, he just pulled his shoulders up. It was just too odd. After three days of ignoring his existence completely, to sitting beside him in classes? Draco went from one extreme to the other.

Harry had to be careful not to fall into that sense of peacefulness again. Once was enough. He needed to regain prospective and distance from Draco.

"You go ahead guys. Snape asked me to eat with him today," Draco told his friends as they rushed to lunch.

He left them and headed for the dungeons, knocking before entering his Uncle's private rooms.

"Draco."

"Have you heard from Dumbledore?" he didn't waste time. He had just realised they might decide to take Harry away from here. Maybe take him to a mental institution or something, or...

"Yes."

"And?" Draco was losing his patience. He needed to know. He just... what if Harry left? They'd never be able to keep in touch! The boy probably had no idea what a phone or an email address was!

The oddest, most dark expression crossed Severus' features, before he composed himself in his usual sneer.

"He downplayed it. Dumbledore said I am exaggerating because of my ignorance of the circumstances, and my past is clouding my understanding of the real situation." his voice was so soft it was murderous. Dumbledore clearly had a death wish if he spoke to his Godfather in such way.

"So he won't do anything?" despite his earlier reservations, Draco frowned at that. That was just ridiculous, the boy cut himself. It was very clear there was something wrong.

"He claims there is no reason to do anything." Snape was even more outraged then Draco was.

"What now then?"

Severus didn't speak for the longest time, his lank hair obscuring his features as he looked down in thought.

"We'll do what we can. He has to trust us enough to tell us himself, and then we can file a charge for abuse and neglect."

"What do I do?"

His Uncle got up from the armchair and started to pace. Draco observed silently as the man arranged the pencils and pens on his desk next, in careful and methodical order. He transferred his attention to the various piles of papers and ultimately straightened, his back to Draco. He obviously did not like the situation, and knowing his Godfather, he hated being forced to intervene in anything directly.

At last he turned around, his face a mask with a sneer.

"Try to get him to eat. A little at a time. Don't push too much if he refuses. And keep away people who could hurt him more." the sneer morphed into a smirk, "Smith, Thomas and Collins was neatly done, by the way."

Draco smirked widely back.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're referring to."

With his new mission clearly defined, he got a hold of Potter and made sure he sat beside him at supper. Every time he served himself, he'd pass it to Potter. Predictably, he never took anything, but Draco watched, and took notes. He did drink juice, and now managed to finish a whole lump of bread and half a steak. It was more than he had ingested when he first came to the school.

"Potter, is Granger already here?" Draco asked at one point, pretending to look over at the loud and plebeian Gryffindor table.

When Harry stretched his neck to look too, he observed as his eyes squinted into slits in the effort.

"I don't think so." he said quietly after he had thoroughly searched. Draco hummed in reply, while he lifted his head and shared a look with Snape, over at the high table.

A few minutes later, Granger got up from where she had been seated at the far right end of her table, and made her way out of the Great Hall.

"Wear your spare clothes when you come down tonight, Potter. I'm not lending you a second shirt. And bring a towel too." Draco said as he got up to go change for soccer practice. He saw a little pink tinge Harry's cheeks as he mumbled his assent.

Routine was good. Harry lived for routine.

As Wednesday morning became Wednesday lunch, and Harry went to knock at the Chemistry classroom, he didn't feel that overwhelming anxiety which threatened a panic attack anymore. He had gotten used to Snape's way, and after three weeks of various detentions, he knew more or less what to expect of the man. Just keep your eyes down and be polite and he'd fare okay.

That was why it completely threw him when he saw Snape not leaning on his desk or sitting, but opening the door before he could even knock.

"Follow me, Potter," he said in his inscrutable tone, and Harry could only follow the smart clack, clack of the professor's expensive shoes.

They turned a few corridors, climbed a couple of staircases, and arrived in a part of the school Harry hadn't been in yet.

He was getting a little tense, but knew better than to ask questions.

"In here Potter. Do avoid making a scene." Snape pushed open a door and Harry was momentarily blinded by the white.

Two big windows let sunlight in, and it reflected off all the white in the room. White tiles on the floor, white walls, white beds...

"Ah, Severus, right on time as usual," said a matronly-looking woman. Dressed in white.

This... was the Infirmary. That, was a nurse.

Harry felt faint.

"Mr. Potter, a pleasure to meet you." said the nurse, and Harry took two steps back, despairing when he saw Snape was blocking the only way out.

"Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Potter is here for an eye check-up. It won't take long, I hope." Snape's voice arrived a little muffled to Harry's ears.

"Oh no, it won't take long at all. Now dear, come here and stand behind this line." the woman approached him – presumably to guide him behind whatever line – but Harry couldn't let her too close. She'd know, or want to prod him until she found out, and then Harry was going to be in so much trouble. Hot prickles ran up his back and reminded him of past punishments. He stepped back again, then still back, until he knocked into something that gave a low grunt.

Harry spun around, jumping away from Snape.

Oh God, he had just walked into him. He had just stepped on Snape's shoe. He was going to get expelled and sent back to his relatives.

"Mr. Potter?" that was the nurse's voice. Concern. She sounded concerned. Oh no no.

Harry had two people to focus on and only one brain. As Snape took a menacing stride forward, probably to grasp him and hold him still while the nurse did all her little 'check ups' Harry stumbled back and felt his breath going crazy. Hyperventilating.

He wanted to groan.

Breathe, just breathe. Don't go into a full-out panic.

Breathe.

He wasn't aware of having closed his eyes and having backed up into a wall until a heavy hand fell on his shoulder and he jumped, his eyes opening, finding he couldn't go anywhere because Snape had cornered him.

"Potter, look at me." Snape ordered, and Harry had to obey that kind of tone. He looked up, into flat black eyes and he trembled. The hand on his shoulder gave the smallest squeeze.

"Poppy is just going to make you read single letters and then look into your eyes. Nothing more." Harry stared at his mouth as he said this. He didn't believe him. He was unpredictable, he didn't respect his plans, he didn't respect his word! He had said he wouldn't take him to the Infirmary. And now he was with a nurse, who was going to start asking questions, and tell him to undress, and ask even more questions, and Snape was going to sneer down at him and she was going to call his relatives and-

"Potter." his name was accompanied by a firm squeeze of his shoulder that brought him back to the present, "It is just an eye-check. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." the big hand on his shoulder was warm. It was seeping warmth into his freezing body. How had he not noticed he was cold before?

"I don't want to be here" he pleaded Snape.

"If you don't want to do something Poppy asks of you, then you say so and we'll go back." his tone was soothing. His subconscious was reacting to it, relaxing, calming down his breathing and heartbeat.

He nodded and the hand on his shoulder disappeared. Cold gripped his body again but Harry ignored it, pushed away from the wall and stood, waiting for the nurse to say what she wanted him to do.

"Alright then. Come stand behind this line dear..." she sounded exactly as before, as if his pathetic mini-panic attack hadn't happened.

He raised his head enough to see where she was standing, seeing indeed a yellow line of faded tape on the ground, and joined her there.

"... and take off your glasses." As he stood behind the line and did what she said, she went to the opposite wall and turned on the light to a screen.

Harry could see there were hazy dots on the white panel.

"Can you read the letters on the first line to me, Mr Potter?" she asked.

He couldn't. He couldn't read a single thing, but those weren't letters, they were dots. He hesitate long enough that the matron worked with the panel a few seconds before asking the same question. The dots – which had gotten bigger – had morphed into blurry lines. He squinted, trying his hardest to make out what letters they were but he couldn't.

"Give me a second..." she said, fumbled with the panel again and suddenly the letters became bigger and Harry could see. His shoulders sagged in relief as he read the first line with relative ease.

The second line was a little harder, but not impossible.

The third line was impossible.

"That's good, thank you Mr Potter. Now just come over here a second..." she made him look into a strange machine. He did not like it one bit, she felt too close to his unprotected eyes, but he suffered through it in silence. He didn't really think Snape was going to take him out of here if he whinged.

It didn't last long though. Soon she was getting up from her own stool and walking to her small cluttered desk. She made a few notes and then gave the file to Snape, who had stood statue-like in front of the door.

"There you are, all finished dear. Come back if you ever need anything." the matron told him gently as he caught up with his professor.

Yeah right. He thought in his head.

"So much for not making a scene, Potter." Snape muttered under his breath. Harry paled then blushed looking away.

"I'm sorry." he said, and he was. He shouldn't have doubted Snape, he had... well, he had helped him that time he had been sick, hadn't he? He had given him aspirin and two days off, even though Harry had only taken one.

Still, he did not understand what all the fuss had been about. Why had she made him read letters? What did that mean? What had she given Snape?