A/N: Next chapter. Thanks for the reviews again! I'm glad you guys are liking it.

Chapter 12 - Charms

Snape did, in fact, let Harry go to classes the next day. Barely said a word to him, actually, except to expect Professor Flitwick to be testing him today and to make sure that he kept his mind clear as much as possible.

Harry had woken up back in bed, a feeling of doom overshadowing him. He remembered the vision and Snape hugging him.

Snape. Hugging him.

Harry wasn't sure what to do with that information. He had only ever been hugged by Mrs. Weasley and a quick couple of times by Sirius – just little ones, to let him know he was there for him – and no one had ever hugged him like that after a nightmare.

But it hadn't really been a nightmare. It had been a vision. A very, very real; very, very disturbing vision. And Snape must have found it awful, too, because he hugged him afterwards.

Hugged him.

So, Harry had to admit that he was very relieved when Snape pretended nothing had happened, even though part of him – a very small part, mind you – was glad it did happen.

Harry shook his head as he headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. He refused to admit that the hug helped, even though no one had ever done that for him when he was scared before. He refused to admit that he was glad Snape had trapped him in his rooms so that he hadn't been so utterly alone when the vision happened, because if he had been alone in the dungeons . . .

Harry shook his head again. He had better things to think about.

As he walked into the Great Hall, Harry felt himself happier when he noticed Wyatt and Lucas sitting in their usual spot. They only spotted him as he sat down next to them, and they stared at him with something akin to awe.

"Where have you been?" Wyatt asked. "The Slytherins that stayed said that you nearly drowned and were in the Hospital Wing, and then no one had seen you since!"

"I've been in Dad's rooms," Harry said. "He wouldn't let me leave; it was horrible. I am so happy to see the both of you."

"And they say you've earned Slytherin 50 points! We're ahead of everyone now!" Lucas said. "But what happened?"

Harry glanced over at the Ravenclaw table as stealthily as he could. The Ravenclaws who attacked him were all there, but they, and the rest of the third years, sat quietly among each other. Not reading, not talking, barely eating. He turned back to his friends.

"It was the Ravenclaws," Harry whispered. If no one else knew, he'd rather it stay that way. "But don't tell anyone. I'd rather not give them more ammunition about anything."

"What did they do?" Wyatt asked, just as quiet, and Harry told them in hushed whispers, including what Malfoy had told him about them. He felt the rest of the table watching them, but they weren't close enough to listen, so Harry ignored them.

"So, they nearly kill you, and they're still here?"

"Yeah," Harry said bitterly. "But Dad says I don't have to worry about them anymore."

"Sure," Lucas told them. "They're just going to stop, after everything. They're probably just going to try to be more sneaky, now."

"We have to be ready," Wyatt said. "I got more of my dad's books that looked like they might be useful. If they try anything again, they'll be sorry."

"I think my dad will kill me if I do anything," Harry told them, not for the first time. He couldn't help but want to be prepared, though. If there was something in the books that could help him in a duel . . .

Flitwick didn't meet up with Harry until close to dinner and Harry grudgingly followed the professor to the Charms classroom. He wasn't sure he wanted to move up to fourth year; not that he was worried about the class. The last thing he wanted was to stand out, and moving up a year in one class? That would definitely make him stand out more than being Snape's son or being a target of the Ravenclaws.

Harry spent a half an hour with Flitwick. It was easier than Harry assumed it would be; even as he got up to the charms he learned at the end of fourth year, he noticed that they worked a lot easier than he remembered. It made him feel a little better about having to repeat his third and fourth year and he remembered what Snape had said about using this time to improve his spell work instead of having an easy year.

Eventually, Flitwick started naming charms Harry didn't recognize, and, seemingly just for the professor's amusement, he asked him to cast the bubblehead charm. Reluctantly, Harry did, and he – again – was surprised at how easy it was to cast it. Instead of the small bubble on his mouth he got the last time, the bubble covered his entire head. I guess it helps I'm not freezing to death in the water, Harry thought.

"Well, Mr. Snape, I was considering moving you up to fourth year Charms " Flitwick said as he finished, obviously excited, "but you seem to know those charms well, too. And as you have a familiarity with some of the fifth year charms, I think . . . yes, I think definitely. I will be moving you up to fifth year Charms. You should be able to catch up easily enough with some help, and you seem to need the challenge. Your mother taught you well, and you seem to have an affinity for Charms! Using that charm for the first time in a dangerous situation . . . wonderful! Well, not wonderful about the danger . . ." Flitwick's excitement wore off a bit as he remembered his third year students. "Well, off you go to dinner, Mr. Snape. I will talk with Professor McGonagall to get your new schedule organized."

Harry left the Charms classroom feeling better. Sure, he was annoyed that he wouldn't have Charms with his friends – and skipping two years in a class seemed a bit excessive to Harry – but for the first time since he got his school books when he was eleven, he was actually excited about school. About his classes. This was more than thinking of Hogwarts as his home; Harry found he actually wanted to see how well he could do. If relearning earlier stuff was making charming that much easier . . .

Harry seriously wished that Umbridge wasn't such an awful teacher. He could be getting so much better in Defense, because that's really what he needed to be good in; because that's what he'd need to excel in. He had to make sure that he'd win in a duel against Voldemort because he sure wasn't going to just let Voldemort kill him.

Maybe Snape would teach me some Defense, Harry thought. Wasn't it Snape who wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, anyway? His thoughts strayed to Sirius' and Lupin's gift to him. He couldn't believe he forgot about it! The entire time he had been locked in Snape's rooms, he could have been studying Defense.

At dinner, Harry told Wyatt and Lucas the news about him taking fifth year Charms instead of third year and at their blank looks, realized he forgot to tell them that Flitwick was going to test him.

"Why would you do that?" Lucas asked.

"Well, my mom taught me a lot of Charms," Harry said as he realized that Snape hadn't told him much about his supposed mother. He knew that she was good at Charms and that she hadn't talked much to anyone. Ever. Harry had trouble putting together how he was supposed to be the son of someone who never talked to anyone. She had to have at least dated Snape at one point, right?

Harry had trouble with the idea of Snape dating anyone, and he tried to stop thinking about it. Wyatt was talking to him, anyway.

". . . but you will still be in the rest of the third year classes, right, mate?"

"Of course," Harry told them.

"Because we know you're doing better than us in all our classes," Wyatt continued.

"I'm rubbish at Arithmancy," Harry reminded them. "And Charms is different. That's mostly what I learned before, so I think I got a little too far ahead."

"Maybe they should re-sort you into Ravenclaw," Lucas told him jokingly. "They wouldn't be able to hate you so much because you'd be one of them."

"Ugh, don't even joke about that," Wyatt said. "And besides, Tristan wouldn't do well in Ravenclaw. He'd rather be reading his stories rather than a school book, even if he is a know-it-all."

"I'm not a know-it-all!" Harry told them, feeling like the conversation was turning from joking to accusing.

"Oh, please. We know you barely study," Lucas said a little grumpy.

"Well, maybe I don't need to," Harry huffed, "but I don't go shoving it in your face or anything. I just wanted to tell you the news. I wouldn't have done it anyway, if my dad didn't say I had to."

"Yeah, I guess that's the downside to having your dad as a professor," Lucas relented. "Look, we're happy for you, but . . . it feels like you're showing off a bit, that's all."

"I'm not," Harry said defensively. "I didn't want to be tested in the first place.

Severus listened to Filius talk about Potter's – well, Tristan's – talent in Charms. He had, it seemed, even known some of the fifth year charms and had bumped him up to fifth, instead of fourth like they had discussed. Severus wasn't sure he was as pleased as he felt he probably should be. Part of him was glad, yes, because the boy was portraying his son and he expected him to do well. The other part of him – the part that couldn't let go that this boy was Harry Potter – was annoyed. Bitter.

He had remembered from previous years Filius saying that Potter was good at Charms, even though he didn't put effort into his school work like Granger, but he knew that Potter barely touched those Charms books he had suggested the boy work on during the holiday. In fact, the only one he remembered Potter looking at was a fifth year text Severus had nearly thrown at him a few days ago when he saw none of the books had been touched.

So, what Potter knew of fifth year Charms, he had probably learned in a few days, and it was probably boredom that pushed him to learn it. It hadn't been much, Filius had said, but enough that he felt Tristan could still excel in the class.

"And what about O.W.L.'s," Severus brought up. "He's thirteen. A little young to be taking the exam."

"There wouldn't be anything stopping him from taking it," Minerva said, who had been listening in. "Ten years ago, I had a similar situation with a student in Transfiguration. Remember Ms. Bricoss? Transfiguration came as easily to her as breathing. Took her O.W.L. in third year and her N.E.W.T. in fifth. I believe she's doing research, now. Fully funded."

"Is he at least going to be able to sit in with the fifth year Slytherins?" Severus asked, dreading the answer. Fifth year Charms for Slytherin overlapped with Potter's Transfiguration class.

"He'll have to sit in with the Gryffindors, Severus," Minerva said. "It's the only class that doesn't overlap with his others, and it's not possible to switch his other classes around."

"You know that class has a particular prejudice against the Slytherins, thanks to Potter," Severus said roughly. He no longer believed this – Potter seemed to have fit into Slytherin without a problem – but his old belief was a good point to bring up. It would not do well to have Potter spend class time with his Gryffindor friends, he thought. True, he hadn't asked Potter how Christmas as Grimmauld Place went, and true, Potter still seemed capable of hiding his identity to his old friends, but the last thing he wanted was for Potter to fall back into rule-breaking.

"Don't bring Potter into this, Severus," McGonagall said sternly. "The boy isn't even here, and you know that young Malfoy had just as much play in that as Potter did. It was a mutual dislike."

Such a downplay, Severus thought. "I still do believe it would be better if we found a way for Tristan to take Charms with the Slytherins. He would have more support with his own housemates." Minerva shook her head.

"It just isn't possible, Severus. Would you rather him stay in third year? Get bored at put off at the class?"

"No," Severus said sharply.

"And I think it will be fine. Molly mentioned that Tristan stayed with them for a couple weeks during the Holiday? Said that Tristan got along well enough with everyone, even if he was a bit recluse," Minerva told him.

"He'll be bullied," Severus said; one last effort.

"I don't believe that Granger will allow that to happen," Minerva said. "She does a rather fine job of keeping the Gryffindors in line. She's taking her job of being a Prefect very seriously. You're just being overprotective, Severus."

Severus huffed at that before continuing his meal, taking a glance at Potter. His group of friends were unusually quiet, appearing as if they were sulking and Severus glared at them, hoping it wasn't something he'd have to deal with later.

Snape had pulled Harry from the common room after dinner, and Harry glared at the man, thinking Snape wasn't going to let him sleep in the dorms again, but once they got to his professor's office, all he did was slide over his new schedule to him. Harry looked at it. Everything was the same except Charms was at a different time. He didn't see why Snape needed to pull him aside for that.

"Because of scheduling, you will not be having class with the fifth year Slytherins," Snape said flatly, "you will be having Charms with the Gryffindors." Harry froze, not sure how to feel about that. After a few minutes, Harry felt himself smile. "It will not be easy," Snape told him.

"I know," Harry said. "I know it won't. But I made it two weeks with them already, I can do a class with them. And I don't think they hate me, you know, as Tristan. We didn't talk much, but Hermione even stopped the twins from playing pranks on me . . ."

Snape was looking at him with a small look of disgust, and Harry sighed. Snape didn't like the twins, much, he guessed.

"But if I could get to know them as Tristan, it would be a lot easier than lying to them in letters. I'm running out of things to talk about, and nearly everything I'm telling them is lies, now."

"You cannot tell them the truth, no matter how close you get to them. You'll still have to write to them as Potter," Snape warned, and Harry nodded.

"I know."

"If the Dark Lord suspects the truth, both of our lives are in more danger than they already are." Harry froze. This was the first time Snape actually brought up Voldemort when they talked about no one finding out who Tristan really was. Before, he had always implied that it was the Ministry they had to worry about, because what they were doing wasn't really legal . . . and in truth, he hadn't thought about what would happen if Voldemort learned what was happening, and the fact that Snape was bringing it up now . . .

He suspected, but Snape had never brought it up. Not that he expected the man to. Snape didn't talk to him unless he had to, but . . . "Are you still a Death Eater?" Harry asked before he could stop the question from coming out. Snape stiffened, his face displaying an anger Harry hadn't seen in awhile. "I mean, I know you're not with . . . with you-know-who," Harry said quickly. He had gotten in the habit of not calling him Voldemort, because most people didn't, and it would be suspicious. "I mean, are you . . . spying or something?" Harry couldn't help that his eyes moved towards his professor's left arm, but Snape seemed to have calmed down a bit when Harry mentioned that he thought he was spying.

"Yes," Snape said dangerously, "which makes our position even more unsafe. Which makes you learning Occlumency even more important."

"We haven't had another lesson," Harry pointed out.

"No. I felt I pushed too far that last time, and I was waiting for you to recover, but that seemed to have been an bad idea." Snape's voice was back to his usual calm but almost-cold tone he used with Harry now, when they were alone. "Have you been practicing?"

"Yeah, I have . . ." Harry said, not wanting to bring up that he was still having trouble clearing his mind when he was trying to fall asleep. He knew he should, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the door in his dreams was his to know about, no one else.

"And last night?"

"I was angry," Harry admitted. "I fell asleep before I tried to clear my mind."

"You have a habit of falling asleep before you go to bed," Snape said oddly, and Harry realized it was true. He'd often fall asleep while reading, or while thinking about something or playing a game. And strangely, he'd wake up in bed, not knowing how he had gotten there. Harry narrowed his eyes at his professor, trying to hide the blush he knew was forming as he realized Snape had put him to bed. Several times.

Although he tried not to, he couldn't help but wonder how much the Dursleys hated him to keep him in a cupboard or locked in a bedroom for all his life when Snape – his hated Potions professor – took better care of him than anyone else had in his life. Even at the Weasleys.

His embarrassment was slowly turning into something Harry didn't recognize, and Harry forced himself to listen to Snape through a hazing feeling.

"We will have Occlumency on Mondays and Thursdays at seven," Snape said, ignoring Harry's embarrassment. Harry merely nodded.