Bold= Parseltongue.

Sorry its been a while. I'm packing up my stuff for college so its been busy, but here is the next chapter to my most read (and most reviewed) story!

Chapter 9: Suspicions

Harry had been feeling strange all day. The aches and pains that came with his scars had returned in a wild rush, leaving him almost paralyzed when he'd woken up that morning. It was a mystery to him. He'd been at school for over a month. Why would they return now?

As the day went on, he became weaker and weaker. Something was definitely wrong, but he didn't dare go to the Hospital Wing or ask any of the teachers about it. He knew that they would say the same thing as Dumbledore and Harry did not at all appreciate being called a liar.

Sighing, he pushed himself up out of his desk and grabbed his book bag before shuffling out of the Defense classroom. His feet dragged as he made his way through the busy halls towards the dungeons, dreading the idea of being in the same room as Snape. While he did not hate Snape as everyone though he did, Harry did fear the dark-haired man. He was too much like Vernon for Harry to be comfortable around him. All of the orders, the yelling, the anger; it was too much.

"Harry!" Draco called out to him.

The Gryffindor turned as the Slytherin jogged up to him, flashing the large smirk that Harry recognized as his happiest smile.

"Hi Draco. How was Arithmancy?" Harry asked.

"Fine. After a while, there really isn't much more to learn," Draco replied. "Ready for Potions?"

Harry groaned and shook his head. "I'm never ready for it."

"I told Sev to try and take it easy on you," Draco said. "I can't promise anything though."

"It's fine," Harry laughed, shrugging. "If he started being nicer to me, I think I'd die from shock."

Draco rolled his eyes as he walked alongside the smaller Gryffindor. Turning his head, he sniffed lightly. The familiar scent, his mate's scent, filled his nose, confirming what he'd told his father the day before. Harry was definitely his mate. There was no doubt in his mind now. He hated the idea of Severus being antagonistic towards his mate and he hoped that his godfather would change, but he also knew that Sev was quite locked in his ways. It would take a near miracle to change him.

Stepping into the potions classroom, Harry quickly took his seat on the Gryffindor side of the room, next to Hermione. Draco inwardly pouted at being unable to sit next to his mate, but flounced over to Blaise to not raise too many suspicions. The Italian gave him a sideways glance as he sat down, but said nothing.

Not a moment later, Snape burst into the classroom, his robes flowing gracefully behind him. He cast a contemptuous glance around the room and sneered at the students.

"Alright you lot, I don't want any exploding cauldrons today, although I doubt that you'll manage even to do that. The directions are on the board and, if you have half a brain, you will be able to understand them. Ingredients are on the front table and get started," he snarled before he walked around his desk and sat in his chair.

The Slytherins snapped into action along with Hermione, rushing up to his desk, where they grabbed the ingredients they needed. The remainder of the Gryffindors slipped up to the table, grumbling the entire way back to their seats.

Harry quickly set up the cauldron over the fire and, when Hermione returned, started to slice the burdock root. As they worked, he could feel Snape's pierce gaze focused on his forehead. He fidgeted nervously under the harsh stare, but didn't return it and kept working. Adding the root to the mixture, he watched as the potion turned a light cerulean blue. He and Hermione glanced at each other and nodded in agreement before silently going back to their work.

About half way through the class, Harry's headache returned, his brain pounding against his skull like a club. Groaning, he rubbed his forehead, but continued to work. Black spots appeared in his vision and he sat back, trying to take a deep breath.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked.

The small Gryffindor didn't have time to answer her before he pitched forward, slamming his hands hard on the table. Hermione screeched as liquid dripped through the slight gaps between Harry's teeth, dripping red onto the table. Coughing, Harry pushed himself up and scrambled out of the room, fighting to keep down the torrent of blood that was threatening to rise in his throat. He ignored Snape's calls and kept running, nearly tripping up the stairs that led out of the dungeons.

Finally, he made it outside, the cool air bursting into his lungs. He coughed harder as his breath became ragged. Collapsing against one of the courtyard pillars, he slinked into the shadows behind it, holding the edge of his robe up to his mouth to help suppress the sound of violent choking. Sliding down the length of the stone column, he opened his mouth and let the river of blood flow freely up his throat, over his tongue, and to the ground between his legs. His eyes watered fiercely as he squeezed them shut, his entire body shaking.

When it was all over, he opened his eyes and groaned. The blood that had pooled beneath his knees shimmered slightly in the light, revealing his reflection. He stared at the scar that ran the length of his jaw. With a shaking hand, he reached up to touch it, the skin broken by an ugly red scab. The glamor was broken, gone.

Looking around frantically, he clapped his hand over the scar. Slipping out from behind the column, he sneaked back into the castle. He stuck to the corners and dark shadows, avoiding anyone that he could. He made his way to Gryffindor Tower without incident and quickly whispered the password, his hand still covering the ugly scar.

Sprinting up to the sixth year boy's bedroom, he collapsed onto his bed and pulled the curtains tight. He curled up into a tight ball, running his fingers over the jagged scar as he cast several silencing and locking spells. His whole body ached, the muscles screaming in pain as he waved his wand. Finished, he let the wand fall from his hands to the silk bedding, pulling his dominant arm in towards his body to trace other scars that were hidden by his clothes.

Shit, he hissed to himself. What am I going to do now?

Later that night, Severus called Lucius and Draco to his private quarters. He had been pondering over Potter's reaction to the potion the entire day, ideas as to why swirling around in his mind. While he did not particularly like the boy, such a violent consequence was something to be looked at. After all, he remembered the day when he'd first been asked to brew the Lesser Dreamless Sleep potion. It had not been as… drastic as Potter's, but he had faced something fairly similar.

He was pacing back and forth when the two Malfoys walked in. Draco, who looked even more concerned that Severus, took a seat next to the fire, trying to keep his hands from wringing. Lucius stood beside his son, his eyes clouded in worry.

"You said that you had something to ask us, Severus," Lucius drawled.

"Yes, I believe I do," the Potions Master replied.

"Is it about Harry?" Draco asked, frantically.

Severus nodded slowly and stopped his pacing.

"What do either of you know of Potter's home life?" Severus asked.

"Nothing," Draco said. "He never talks about his life during the summers and he never goes home for Yule."

"Interesting," Snape murmured as he resumed his pacing.

"Why do you ask?" Draco asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Walking over to the bookshelves that stood at the far side of the room, Severus retrieved a thick book entitled 'An Exploration in Non-Pernicious Potions'. He quickly flipped through it until he found the page he was searching for and handed it to Lucius. Leaping up, Draco whipped around to stand next to his father.

"Lesser Dreamless Sleep potion," Lucius read aloud, "Also known as the Carmichael potion, named after its infamous creator, the muggleborn Gregory Carmichael. Mr. Carmichael is best known for having been murdered by his younger brother while in the process of creating said potion. He had been in the process of making the normal Dreamless Sleep Potion that is often used while healing grievous injuries when his brother had snuck up behind him and started firing hexes at him. One of the hexes burned Mr. Carmichael's hair, causing several pieces of the singed hairs to fall into the potion. Mr. Carmichael died soon afterwards in the struggle with his brother."

Lucius looked up at Severus, raising an eyebrow. Sighing softly, Snape reached out and pointed to the section that he wanted the older Malfoy to read.

"Mr. Carmichael's younger brother was later reported to have gone insane due to the effects of the fumes the potion gave off. The gas that is produced from a mixture of burned hair and sliced andica petals is known to cause severe pain in those that had neglected or abused childhoods. The effects include headaches, nausea, and dizziness as well as vomiting blood in the most severe of cases."

Draco's eyes widened as his father read and he snapped his head up to stare at his godfather. Severus gave him a slightly saddened look, throwing himself into the armchair behind him. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose as Lucius slowly sunk into the chair opposite him, still gazing at the open book in his hands.

"Draco told me what had happened in class, but I never thought-"

"-That is would be because he has been abused? I was shocked when Potter reacted that way as well," Severus moaned, covering his eyes with his hand. "If I had known, I would have excused him from the lesson."

"He isn't in your house, Severus. How could you have known?" Lucius replied.

"I don't think anyone knows. McGonagall would have come to me if she did," Severus said quietly.

Draco stared into the fire, unsure what to do. He wanted nothing more to run and find his mate, but he knew Harry well enough to recognize that such a thing would only scare the Gryffindor.

"So, what do we do?" Severus asked. "He's Draco's mate and falls under your family's protection now."

"We need to get Potter's attention somehow, let him know that he is loved and can talk to us," Lucius sighed.

"We can't just walk up to him and ask," Draco snarled.

"Of course not. Do you think any of his friends might know what's going on?" Lucius asked.

Draco shook his head.

"No Gryffindor would be able to keep such a thing a secret, not even Longbottom, who is as loyal as they come."

"Dumbledore may know," Severus said slowly. "He's had a squib placed at Privet Drive for years. I doubt that she wouldn't have seen something."

That stopped Draco. He frowned and glanced over at his godfather. Draco had always know that the old headmaster was a manipulative man, as bad as they came, but he didn't think that the white bearded man would have gone as far as Severus was insinuating.

"I've heard stories from Minerva that Harry has begged her every year to be allowed to stay here at Hogwarts," Severus continued, "And Albus sent him back every time."

"You think that he's doing it on purpose?" Lucius asked.

"It wouldn't surprise me. He's always talking about how we need Harry to win the war, for Harry to be strong. However, Albus is too smart to let the boy go off on his own. He wants glory for himself as well," Severus said.

"What about the Anima Prohibe?" Draco asked. "Could he be responsible for that too?"

"If he is, then I want to be the first to curse the old man to death."