Chapter Thirteen (Or: The Games Never End)

James was of the opinion that Hagrid was an oaf – a very nice oaf, but still an oaf. He reminded James of a larger, hairier Lou – but without that hard edge that made him dangerous to cross.

The giant of a man was incredibly nice. He'd invited James over for tea, and was probably the only person at Hogwarts that wasn't angry because James had been sorted into Slytherin.

"Can't help where you're sorted. Not meant ter help it, now are we? Otherwise the sortin' hat would be out of a job." And that was all Hagrid had to say on the matter.

All the same, James wasn't sure how to handle himself around the man who knew his parents – knew them well, if the stories he told were true. Nor was he sure what to do with the belated birthday gift the man had given him – a snowy white owl. How the hell was he supposed to keep an owl when he lived in the muggle world?

The owl was very pretty, but grouchy, so much so that James lovingly named her Crotchety Anne. She didn't seem to like that at all. James had the bite marks on his fingers to prove it.

"Come on! What else do you expect me to call you if all you've done is snapped at me!?" James yelled up at the rafters in the owlery. Anne ignored him, keeping her back to him.

"Please come down. I didn't mean it. You're really pretty!" James huffed, crossing his arms and stomping his foot. "I have a letter for you to take to Hagrid for me, please? I wanted to send him a thank you note!"

Still, the owl ignored him and James gave up. "Fine. I'll use a school owl."

Before he had a chance to tie his letter onto one of the school owls, Anne swooped down and landed so heavily on his shoulder that he tumbled over. Talons dug into his chest, and he glared up at the owl as he lay splayed out on the disgusting floor, surrounded by owl droppings.

"You did that on purpose."

Anne hooted laughingly, holding out her leg expectantly. She snapped at his fingers as he tied the short note to her leg.

"Will you stop that? I'm going to sell you to the Chinese Restaurant back home if you don't."

Anne hooted again, taking off from his chest abruptly and flying out of the high windows in the owlery. James sat up, rubbing the gouges in his chest. "Bloody moody females. What did I do to deserve that?"

Someone laughed at him, and James was absolutely mortified when he looked up and noticed a handful of students in the doorway of the owlery – he was fairly certain they were Hufflepuffs. He scrambled quickly to his feet, brushing his robes off and glaring at them evenly. "You laugh now, but in two months' time I'll have an attack owl that will be able to pull off assassinations."

They only laughed harder, and James rolled his eyes as he left the owlery.

James had quickly come to the conclusion that he was not going to be able to go it alone at Hogwarts. Not only did his own house despise him, but the other houses seemed to hold his sorting into Slytherin as a betrayal. On top of that, Slytherin just wasn't liked by the other houses at all.

It was completely infuriating. These people didn't even know him, but they were so quick to decide they absolutely hated him.

It had been four days since his blowout with Snape, and his first potions class was that morning. James was absolutely dreading it, as he hadn't returned to the Slytherin Common room at all since the first night , and he was certain Snape knew that very well.

At least he'd read all his potions books.

Breakfast was always pretty quiet, as most of the students were still groggy. Since the first day, no one had bothered James at the Slytherin table. None of the prefects even chewed him out when he played with his food. As he had been camping out in different areas of the castle, he was always up early and got to breakfast well before the first-years were technically allowed out of bed. But so far, no one had called him on it.

He was finished eating long before the prefects were ready to show the first-years to class, and today James decided to make the full cast of Star Wars out of sausages. He was having a bit of trouble figuring out how to shape Princess Leia's hair when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"I don't like to be touched." James muttered coldly, glaring at Pucey over his shoulder.

The prefect shifted awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back. "Professor Snape asked me to escort you to his office. He wishes to speak to you before class."

James rolled his eyes, dropping the still hair-less Princess Leia on his plate and biting off Chewbacca's head as he stood up, snatching his bag off the ground. He stared pointedly at Pucey, who silently lead the way out of the Great Hall.

"You haven't slept in the dorms since the first night." Pucey mentioned casually as they made their way down into the dungeons.

"I didn't sleep that first night I spent there." James corrected. "What's it to you?"

"Snape knows."

"I figured." James shrugged.

"You're going to be in a lot of trouble." Pucey muttered, turning down the corridor that lead to Snape's office. "Rule Four."

"I haven't got caught," James said simply, "Which means that someone broke Rule Three."

Pucey blinked at him, pausing for a second before raising his hand to knock on Snape's office door. The door swung open before the knock fell.

"Enter."

"I brought Potter to see you." Pucey said quietly, stepping in the door. James followed slowly.

"Very well. You may return to the Great Hall, Mr. Pucey. Mr. Potter. Have a seat."

James considered arguing, but thought better of it. He sat down heavily on the wooden chair in front of Snape's desk and tried not to fidget as the door shut behind him. For a long time, Snape didn't look up from the papers he was marking. James huffed at that, playing with the hem of his robes.

"You have not been spending the night in your dorm, Mr. Potter." Snape started abruptly, black eyes flickering up to stare coldly at James. "Care to explain yourself?"

"Not really."

"Do not get smart, Mr. Potter."

"I'm not trying to be smart. You asked if I cared to explain. I don't. What's smart about that?" James grinned cheekily.

"I will take the choice away, then. Explain yourself. Now."

James rolled his eyes, slumping in his chair. "I've nothing to say."

Snape stood abruptly, hands flat against his desk. "You owe me three detentions, Mr. Potter. As for your continuing disregard for curfew, that will be another detention for every night you have spent out of bed. Starting tonight, and every night for the next six days you will report here at 6:00. When your detention is over, I will escort you back to your dorm room and you will not be permitted to leave until 6:00 the following morning."

"How am I supposed to do my homework if I have detention every night!?"

"You have plenty of time to address your homework between the end of classes and dinner. You will also have an adequate amount of time in the evenings after your detentions to continue working on it. As a first year, you hardly have enough homework to fill up even that amount of free time."

James glared, crossing his arms. "You're a right bastard, you know that?"

"Watch your mouth."

"I would, but my eyeballs are firmly attached to my forehead and can't quite swivel that far. If you really want me to, why don't you loan me a mirror. Or wait, you probably don't own one."

Snape stared at him for a minute, and James swore he saw the man's lips almost twitch into a smile.

"Shall I add another detention for disrespect?"

"Don't even." James threw his hands in the air. "Don't even try to go there again."

"Make that seven detentions. Shall we go for eight?"

James fell resolutely silent, glaring down at the floor.

"I see you're learning."

"Oh shut up! You were being a complete prick the other night, and you know it."

"You were purposefully being a completely unreasonable, arrogant little brat!"

"Why? Because I asked you not to manhandle me and had to keep repeating myself because you wouldn't listen?" James leapt to his feet. "Or because I don't just blindly obey everything you say like some obedient little dog?"

"We'll make that ten detentions, then." Snape very suddenly leveled his voice. "Class is going to start soon. I will escort you to the classroom, and you can set up your cauldron early."

James growled. "Can't argue with that, huh?"

"Shut up, or you'll find yourself in detention every night for the next month."

"Yeah, yeah." James stuffed his hands in his pockets, falling silent as he followed the Potions Master out of his office and back down the corridor.

The potions classroom was dark and dank, just like the rest of the dungeons. James scrunched his nose, taking a seat at the very back of the classroom. Snape glared at him.

"The rest of your Slytherin classmates will likely sit at the front of the class."

"Good for them." James dug in his bag, pulling out his cauldron and potions books.

"It would behoove you to move to the front."

"What, so you can sit there looming over me and making nasty comments at me the whole time? Don't think so." James snatched up one of his books, flipping to a random page to start reading. Snape snarled something and swept back out of the room, but James ignored him. A few minutes later, the rest of the Slytherin first-years showed up with Pucey.

James tensed when Pucey approached him. "What do you want?"

"Snape tear you a new one?"

"Nope. Wants to start having tea – thinks I'm funny." James said seriously, glancing up at the prefect. "He also thinks you're a suck up, but you didn't hear it from me."

Pucey scowled at him, but didn't say anything further as the door opened and the Gryffindor first-years started filing in. Instead, he leaned in close. "Watch yourself, Potter. Or you're going to find yourself in trouble so deep you'll never find your way out."

"Been there before, got out just fine." James said cryptically, grinning. "Besides, if I can take on Fenrir Greyback, blokes like you should be a piece of cake. You're fragile – you break easy." James pointedly tapped his fingers on the top of the desk, never looking up from his book. He smirked when Pucey took a quick step back.

"You have to sleep some time, Potter."

"So do you, Pucey."

The prefect obviously didn't know what to say to that, and he stared down at James for a few seconds before leaving the classroom. James glanced around at the students that were sitting divided by house. Sure enough, the Slytherins were up front, with the Gryffindors in the back. It was funny to notice that there was a wide ring of empty stools around James. He nodded at Neville when he caught the boy staring at him, but the pudgy boy flushed and quickly ducked his head.

Most of the students jumped when the door to the classroom slammed open and Snape swept in. James couldn't help rolling his eyes and grinning at the man as he started on his speech. He hardly paid any attention to what was said, instead watching the way the man carefully caught and held the attention of everyone in the class until the silence could have been shattered with a drop of a pin.

The man was good, James had to give him that. He whole intimidation act was very believable for the rest of the suckers in the class. It just made James giggle.

"Is there something you find amusing, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Sir." James said, purposefully not explaining.

"Do enlighten us."

"Oh, it's nothing really." James pretended to duck his head in embarrassment. "It's just. . . That was such a cute little speech. I was wondering how many times you had to practice it to get it right. I was quite impressed."

Snape's eyes darkened in fury, and James cocked his head to the side. "Is something wrong, Sir?"

Several of the Gryffindor coughed subtly to hide their giggles, and the Slytherins were staring at him as if he'd grown an extra head.

"Ten points from Slytherin for your cheek, Mr. Potter."

James' eyes widened. "What cheek? I was trying to compliment you!" He was pleased to notice several of the Gryffindors staring blankly at Snape as if they couldn't figure out just why he was so mad.

"Since you are feeling talkative, Mr. Potter, why don't you answer a few questions?" Snape straightened up, crossing his arms so his robes draped just right. James mentally rolled his eyes.

"Alright, Sir. I'll try my best."

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to infusion of wormwood?"

Oh, that bastard! James blinked, furrowing his eyebrows as he raked his mind for the answer. James noticed the competitive girl from the train – Hermione – waving her hand in the air, and felt a stab of irritation. He'd come across both ingredients in his reading, but he couldn't place them together. "No potion we'll be brewing as first-years."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Snape glared at him. "Pardon?"

"The Draught of Living Death is carefully regulated by the Ministry." James continued, glad that his cheek had bought him time to dredge up the answer. Go figure he'd read it in the book on Wizarding Laws and Regulations. "They don't even let NEWT level students brew it. Why would you expect me to know that, if I'm just a first-year?"

Snape remained silent for a moment, a tick making an appearance on his forehead. "Do you think you're clever, Mr. Potter?"

"I don't think so – I know so."

"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I wouldn't look for it myself. I don't really fancy cutting up a goat and fishing around in its stomach." James was fighting very hard to hold himself still. He didn't want to fidget and give away how nervous he was. He'd pulled that answer out of thin air, had no clue where it had come from. Hermione had turned to stare at him, her hand hardly even twitched before James had spouted the answer.

Snape's eyes narrowed, his glare intensifying. James shuddered when he was suddenly overcome by the feeling of a heavy brick wall falling into place in front of him. Oh. . . He was going to be in so much trouble.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. One last question. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

James was silent for a while, thinking back to his reading. He glanced at Hermione, who was staring at him with a smug look as she held her hand as far in the air as it would go. He practically heard her bossy voice in his head.

"Trick question. They're the same plant, also known as aconite." James answered firmly, watching Hermione's shoulders slump and carefully not meeting Snape's gaze.

"Impressive, Mr. Potter. Perhaps during your detention tonight you will be able to enlighten me as to how you came across the answer to those questions, as they weren't in any of your textbooks."

James bristled. "Meaning you were trying to trap me with questions I was never meant to be able to answer? Which means now you're trying to save face because it backfired on you."

No one in the classroom dared to even breath.

"Twenty points from Slytherin for your lack of respect."

"Hard to show respect to someone that's not respectable." James muttered.

Gasps broke out throughout the classroom, and James barely had time to brace himself before Snape had crossed the room and snatched him up by the collar of his robes. "Get out of my class."

James was forcibly dragged to the door and thrown out into the hallway. He ducked quickly as all his books, his bag and his cauldron came flying after him. The door slammed loudly in his face, leaving James alone in the dank corridor, staring at his bent cauldron and his torn books.

"Shouldn't play the game if you're not prepared to lose." He said loudly, hoping his voice carried into the classroom. He sat down on the floor, carefully scooping up his books and setting them back together with the pages in their proper order before casting 'reparo' on them. They knitted back together, but there was nothing he could do about the bent cauldron.

With a sigh, James shoved everything into his bag and pushed to his feet. A feeling of guilt washed over him. How was he supposed to help Carl if he couldn't keep his temper in check long enough to make it through one potions class? That was the whole reason he was in this hell-hole in the first place. He'd forgotten that, being so wrapped up in everything else.

If he wasn't going to try to stick it out to help Carl, there was no point in sticking around at all.

James kicked angrily at the wall, hissing when his big toe started aching. Then, he limped off down the corridor and slowly made his way to the upper levels.

Severus was so furious he did something completely unprecedented. He let his class out early, without even making them brew a potion. Instead, he'd set a three-foot essay on the boil cure, due the next class.

It was harsh – yes. But the fearful looks and grumbling ensured that none of the little cretins would be emboldened by Potter's example.

Potter. That little shit had a death wish.

Severus stared around the classroom, his fists clenched and tried to gain control of his temper. It was the first time a student had managed to one-up him at his own game – by bloody legilimizing him no less! And even when he'd thrown his occlumency shields up, the little devil had simply stolen the answer from Granger. He was certain of it.

And then he'd had the nerve to criticize him.

Potter was going to pay. That boy would be lucky if he got to step outside before the winter holidays, with the number of detentions Severus was going to heap on him.

Oh. Severus was pissed. He was beyond pissed.

He was secretly hoping Potter would try to skive off his detention again. When he got his hands on that bloody little piss-ant. . .

The rest of Severus' classes flew by, with most of his students shaking under his glare. He felt a grim sense of triumph when he made several Hufflepuffs cry. It was so worth the scolding he'd get when Pomona found out.

Potter wasn't at dinner, and Severus was already plotting how he was going to catch the boy when he obstinately refused to show up for his much deserved detention that evening. So he was surprised as hell when a distinctly meek and apologetic boy-who-lived knocked on his office door, fifteen minutes early for his detention.

Potter was the picture of innocence, ducking his head and shuffling his feet as he stood uncertainly in the office door. "I'm sorry I disrespected you in class."

Severus sneered at the boy, turning his attention back to his grading, though his hands were really shaking too much with suppressed rage.

"Er. . . I promise I won't do it again."

"That is doubtful." Severus said shortly, still refusing to look up at the boy. He could tell those green eyes were studying him closely.

"Am I going to be allowed to come back to potions class? Or did I blow it for good?"

Severus finally glanced up, frowning as Potter flushed, biting his lip and quickly glancing down at the floor.

"Would you really be bothered if you did blow it for good? I was under the impression you thought brewing was as demeaning as cooking, and the potions themselves are disgusting."

"I am – I mean, I do think that. But I need to learn how to make them. That's why I came here."

Severus scowled, turning his glare back to the essay he was marking up and slowly analyzing the boys words. He 'needed' to learn them? Not wanted, needed. "You're telling me you only showed up for detention to try and suck up to me, so you could possibly return to my good graces enough that I might allow you to return to my class?"

"No. That's why I came to Hogwarts at all. I need – I want. . ."

Severus looked up as Potter trailed off, obviously frustrated and angry. "What do you mean?"

"I only came to Hogwarts because I want to learn about healing potions, okay!? There's someone I need to help. And I fucked up, I know I did. I got distracted because of all the shit! I don't fucking care about this boy-who-lived nonsense, and I don't care that everyone hates me. I'm only here for one reason, and if you're not going to let me back into potions tell me right now. Because if I can't learn that, there's no point in being here, and I'd much rather go home anyways!"

Severus remained silent for a long time, watching James coldly. "Surely you don't mean that. Hogwarts is an exemplary school. Your parents went here, your grandparents—"

"I don't fucking care about that!" James shouted. "My parents are dead! I never knew them! I didn't even know their names until I read about them in some of the books Gren suggested and I don't know anything about them except what Hagrid has told me – and from what I understand they probably wouldn't like me much if they were alive because I'm nothing like them and I'm in fucking Slytherin!"

"Regardless. You are a Wizard, your place in the Wizarding World—"

"The Wizarding World can fuck itself. What place in the Wizarding World!? I don't have a place in the Wizarding World, I never had a place in the Wizarding World and I don't want a place in the Wizarding World." James sat down heavily, crossing his arms and glaring as Severus. "What has the Wizarding World ever done for me? Oh, I know. They took care of me when Voldemort murdered my parents – oops! No they didn't. They dumped me in the muggle world like a fucking piece of trash."

Severus had nothing to say to that, but sensed a rare opening. "I wish I could give you answers to that, but to give you answers I have to know how you've been living in the muggle world. According to the school records, you are still under the guardianship of your aunt and uncle."

James blinked at him, eyes saddening. He looked lost. "Aunt and uncle? You mean – I have family still?"

Severus nodded. "Your mother's sister is still alive. She lives with her husband and their son. That is who you are supposed to be living with."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Like I said, your file still names Vernon and Petunia Dursley as your guardians."

"WHAT!?"

Severus jumped in his seat as every jar in his office exploded. James was on his feet, eyes wide and breathing heavily.

"You don't mean to tell me – those people are supposed to be family!? Those fucking twisted lunatics—" The boy started pacing furiously, rubbing angrily at his arms through his robes. He stopped abruptly, turning back to Snape with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Tell me you're joking – tell me it's a lie. Please. . . "

"It's not a lie." Severus said calmly, waving his wand to clean the soggy mess from his desk and his person. "Why are the Dursleys twisted lunatics?"

James shook his head, seeming to realize he was rubbing frantically at his arms as he shakily forced his hands down by his sides. "Don't – they aren't my family – they can't be. They aren't!"

"I assure you, Mr. Potter, Petunia Dursley is your aunt."

"Stop! Just – Just stop!" James started pacing again. "They – how could they? They – they. . ."

"They what, Mr. Potter?"

The boy suddenly froze, turning to stare at him with wide, scared eyes. In a flash he schooled his expression, forcing his breathing to slow and was looking at him with a very blank face. "They don't matter. They're nothing."

Severus blinked at the abrupt change, mentally cursing the lost opportunity. "I don't suggest trying to hide whatever it is you're hiding, Mr. Potter. As I already explained, the Dursleys are still your legal guardians. If it is discovered that you are no longer living with them—"

"It won't be." James said flatly. "I promise nothing good will happen if anyone ever tries to send me back to them."

"Do not make idle threats, Mr. Potter. If you truly wish to remain out of their custody for good, you need to come forth with good reasons as to why. Convince me that I shouldn't act on the knowledge that you aren't living with your legal guardians, and instead seem to be on your own with only a handful of muggle friends and a brain-dead man in a hospital."

Green eyes suddenly blazed. "Aren't you clever, trapping me like that. . . You know – you have an idea, but you won't settle for that, will you? You want the dirty truth – the ugly facts!"

Severus remained quiet.

"And I have no choice, do I? Because you're going to use them to threaten me into getting what you want. Fuck you. I hate you."

Still, Severus said nothing as the boy paced angrily around the office, his breathing getting faster and faster. Finally, he stilled, not facing Severus. "Rule Number One: I am a freak. I must not forget I am a freak. . "

Severus listened intently as James quietly started listing off rules – disgusting rules, outrageous rules. After reciting the twenty-fifth rule, the boy paused, turning to stare at Severus with a watery glare. His breath hitched before he angrily tugged his robes over his head, throwing them on the ground. He continued to strip until he was standing completely naked, shivering against the cold. There wasn't a point on his body that wasn't marred with scars.

"Rule Number Twenty-Six: If I break any of the rules, I must punish myself." The boy slowly trailed a finger over some of the scars on his arm. "Number Twenty-Seven: If I don't do a good job punishing myself, I will get a worse punishment."

Severus stood slowly, circling around his desk and approaching the trembling child. He was rubbing his arms again, almost frantically as Severus passed a wide circle around him, careful not to get so close as to make the boy panic.

"It's been years, but I still remember every fucking rule. I still remember every time I had to punish myself, and every punishment that came after because it was never good enough the first time. . . " James whispered. He suddenly looked straight up at Severus, green eyes still shining with tears but with a hard gleam that didn't belong in the eyes of an eleven-year-old. "If I get sent back there, I'll kill them. I swear I will. They will never break me again. I won't let them."

Severus held the gaze for a second, before turning away. "You can put your clothes back on, Mr. Potter. I have no intention of sending you back to the Dursleys."

There was a moment of silence.

"You fucker! You were bluffing!"

Severus smirked at the boy, who was furiously tugging his clothes back on. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Bravo! Fucking brilliant! What now, going to have a good laugh? Going to pat yourself on the back because you tricked me into telling you something so humiliating?"

"Do not even start that, Mr. Potter. Such accusations are completely unfounded." Severus snapped. "Now sit down, because we still need to have a serious talk about your current living arrangements."

"Go to hell. I'm not going to tell you anything!"

Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a long night.