Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character's except Stroper, dang it!

Where Do I Go From Here?

Chap. 14 Nosey Slytherins and Erratic Magic

Harry sulked miserably that night. After a long supper, most of it spent in silence as Harry struggled to eat enough to satisfy his new guardian, Snape then insisted that they have a 'talk'. As if you could even call it that, Harry complained to himself, silently punching his pillow in his frustration. Harry perceived it as more of a lecture.

He was angered that he was forced to sit in that armchair by the fire and listen as his professor spoke to him about 'the importance of taking care of one's self'. Ha, Harry thought, I've been taking care of myself for as far back as I can remember. I certainly don't need help now. Of course, he pointedly ignored the little voice in the back of his head that reminded him of what condition he had been in only a few days prior.

Professor Snape had concluded his enforced speech with a stern note of disapproval regarding Harry's dismal efforts in his classes that day, informing Harry that he had expected better of him. Harry was still having trouble reconciling the slight feeling of guilt he experienced upon hearing that, and he resolutely repeated to himself over and over that he shouldn't care what Snape thinks of him. But no matter how much he tried to deny it to himself, the truth was left staring him in the face, and it sent him into a sour mood.

Punching his pillow yet again, Harry turned on his side as he tried to fall asleep that night, and couldn't help but to wonder to himself, Why does he even care?

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Harry was woken the next morning by a rapping sound at his door, and the stern voice of his Potions professor informing him, "It's time to get up, Potter."

Harry groaned and pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to block out both the sunlight streaming in his window, and the set of muffled voices he could now detect from the room beyond. Scrubbing a fist tiredly over his eyes, be blearily opened them and forced his body into an upright position, swinging his bare feet over the side of the bed, only to recoil at the first touch of his toes upon the cold stone floor.

Sweeping his arm to the side, he snatched up his glasses which he had left on the top of his trunk the night before and slid them onto his nose. As soon as the world came into focus, he cast his eyes to the floor in a silent search for yesterday's socks he had discarded, and put them on. As soon as his feet were protected against the chill of the dungeon, he dug through his trunk and grabbed a set of clean clothes, determined to get a shower this morning.

He was just about to exit his bedroom when the muffled voices floated through to him again, and he set his face in a scowl when he recognized who was speaking.

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"Oh, I'm not worried about that. Besides, the weather is perfect today. What better time will we have to hold Quidditch try-outs?"

Harry could hear a characteristic sigh of exasperation, and could tell Snape must have had made this same point with Draco on several occasions already.

"Draco, I've already told you, Hufflepuff has already requested the field for today. I'm not going to overrule Professor Sprout on this without a valid reason."

"But, it'll be raining again by tomorrow, and-"

"Regardless," Snape interrupted, "I cannot do it. Slytherin will have to keep their try-outs scheduled for tomorrow evening as planned. Besides, it is much too late to change your plans now, Draco, so just drop it."

Harry couldn't help but snigger a little to himself over the fact that Draco Malfoy did not get his way for once, and with that, he finally opened his door and strode into the room.

Draco was quick to divert his attention over to Harry as the teen crossed the floor on his way to the bathroom, and Harry picked up his pace, suddenly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. After the door was safely closed behind him, he set about his task as quickly as possible, determined to not give Snape a reason to scold him again, especially in front of Draco.

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After hearing the bathroom door click shut, Draco turned back to his godfather, "So, he's still here, is he?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at Draco at the obvious stupidity of the question, but answered nonetheless, "I have a feeling that his stay will equal that of yours in duration."

Draco raised an eyebrow as well, a trait picked up by habit from Snape himself, and the young Slytherin shrewdly derived the hidden message in that statement.

"That bad?" Draco paused to cast a look over his shoulder one last time, as if he could see Harry through the closed bathroom door. When he turned to face Snape again, he had a contemplative look on his face that made his Godfather immediately suspicious.

"I certainly hope, Draco, that you are not scheming up some sort of mischief that will involve Mister Potter." Snape cast a stern look over at his godson who at least had to good grace to fane innocence.

"Nothing of the sort, Sev. Not yet anyways."

Snape sent a warning glare Draco's way, but the boy simply ignored it and flashed a cocky grin of his own, knowing just how much he was able to get away with compared to other students. Having his God Father as his Head of House certainly had its advantages.

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Harry could hear them talking from the other room, but the rush of water from the shower head seemed to drown out the conversation enough that he couldn't tell what either of them were saying. All he did know was that he had distinctly heard his name being used, and it angered him to think the two Slytherins were out there talking about him.

In his frustration, he unintentionally scrubbed harder than he meant to, only stopping when he noticed how red and sore his skin had gotten. Sighing loudly and hoping the slight pain he was now in was not enough to alert Snape, Harry stepped back under the spray just long enough to rinse away the soap before bending down to turn off the water.

But just as he was stepping out of the shower, a wave of dizziness seemed to strike him out of nowhere, forcing him to grab at the wall to keep himself from falling. Harry let himself slump against it, panting and feeling as if he had just run a race. Worried that Snape might come looking for him if he took too long, Harry struggled to get dressed as the dizziness began to lessen.

By the time he was ready to make his way back into the main living quarters, most of the dizziness had passed, only to be replaced by a sudden weakness in his muscles that left his hands shaking, despite his best efforts to hide it. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he made his way toward the table where Snape and Draco sat waiting.

As Harry neared the table, Snape glanced up, but when his eyes narrowed a moment later, Harry knew all hope of hiding the incident was lost. Snape stood from the table to make his way over to inspect his charge, catching Draco's attention. A moment later, and the blond was twisted around in his seat so that he could watch the interaction.

"What happened?" Snape inquired.

Harry was taken aback at first. He had thought the man would be mad at him for some reason, but Snape almost sounded worried.

"Nothing," Harry briefly replied, "I'm fine."

"You are clammy and pale. You are most certainly not 'fine'." Snape did seem a little angry this time and Harry bit his lower lip in an effort to refrain from saying anything else that might anger the man.

"Sit." Snape pointed to the loveseat before heading towards the small wooden cabinet in the corner. Quietly complying, Harry watched from over his shoulder as Snape whipped out his wand from within his sleeve, unlocked the cabinet, snatched up a few potions, and then relocked it, all within seconds.

As the man's foreboding presence neared, Harry cast his eyes one last time to the young Slytherin watching him from the table. Disgusted by the fact that he now had an audience to his little humiliation, Harry snarled his upper lip at Draco, hoping it looked at least half as good as one of Snape's trademark snarls. But Draco's reaction was far from what Harry had hoped it would be.

The blond seemed to be trying to hold back a laugh. Righting himself in his seat, more to hide his grin than to offer Harry any privacy, Draco remarked as if merely commenting on the weather, "You know, Potter, I think you've been hanging around Professor Snape too long. I do believe he's starting to rub off on you."

Snape stopped dead in his tracks, glanced at Harry, and then cast his most deadly of glares at Draco, but before he could whip out a single retort, the boy had already gathered up his schoolbag, grabbed a piece of buttered toast and was on his way out the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Snape turned to Harry. And when he spoke, his harsh voice still carried evidence of some of the irritation Draco's comment had borne.

"Hold out your hand."

The first thing that came to Harry's mind was that Snape thought he had cut again, and he withdrew his arm when Snape started to reach for it.

"But I didn't-"

Snape's hand froze in mid-air, and a moment later he responded with an obvious forced calmness, "I need to check your pulse, Harry."

And there it was again. The man had called him by his first name and, somehow, Harry couldn't help but relax a little when he heard it, as if it was some type of involuntary reaction on his part. Perhaps, it was because the word seemed to be so out of place, but the man had said it before. Harry could remember that, even if he had been upset at the time. Well, if Snape could be civil, than so could Harry.

Apprehensively, Harry stretched his arm out to his Potions Professor, but instead of grabbing hold of his wrist like Harry half expected him to do, Snape merely placed two cold fingers against Harry's wrist. As the seconds went by, Harry couldn't seem to make himself look at Snape. The morning had held enough embarrassments for him, he didn't think he could stand it if he were to look up and see his professor looking back with any amount of distain.

A moment later, and the fingers left his wrist. Placing his hand in his lap, Harry proceeded to rub at the chilled spot on his wrist while Snape gave him a considering look.

"Your pulse is racing. Have you been feeling lightheaded?"

Harry didn't want to tell him about the dizzy spell. The last thing he wanted was even more attention from the man. It was bad enough that he was watched at every meal, and that Snape had obviously been asking the other Professors about how his classes went. What would come next? On the other hand, he didn't want to lie to Snape either. After all, the man was trying to help, in his own snarky way.

Harry remained silent as he thought out what he wanted his response to be, but his thoughts were interrupted when Snape finally got tired of waiting for an answer.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. What were you doing when it happened?"

Oh well, Harry thought, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"I had just gotten out of the shower, Sir."

Snape was silent for a second and then instructed, "I want you to eat breakfast, and see if that helps with the shaking."

Harry looked down, and sure enough, his hands were still trembling slightly. He shoved them back into his pockets for the short trip to the table, not caring if he looked a little silly doing so. As he sat down, Snape placed several potions on the table right in front of Harry's plate. There was the usual stomach soothing and nutrient potion, but there was a third one as well. Harry picked it up and tilted the small vial from side to side, watching as the frothy purple liquid sloshed inside it.

"It should help with the dizziness." Snape answered before the question could be asked. "But it is better to take it on a full stomach, so wait until after breakfast before you take it."

Harry nodded and set it back down. He quickly took the other two, smiling at the minty taste of one and then frowning at the bitterness of the second. The first thing Harry served himself that morning was a full glass of the pumpkin juice to wash away the flavor of the nutrient potion. He then served himself from the platters that the house elves had brought earlier.

A while later, when Harry was just about to eat his last bite of toast and was already starting to rise from his chair, Snape commented, "You still aren't eating enough."

With a huff of irritation, Harry let himself plop back into his chair, and rested his head on his arm which he had propped up on the edge of the table.

"But I can't eat any more than that," Harry complained. "I'm full."

"Actually," Snape explained, "I was referring to that in a general sense, not just in regards to your current meal."

When Harry continued to look questioningly at him, Snape elaborated further.

"I believe that the bout of dizziness you experienced this morning was due to a sudden drop in your sugar level, which in turn is most likely due to a lack of nourishment. What I have yet to figure out is why. You have been on nutrient potions in combination to your normal meals for several days, which is long enough by now that you should not be experiencing these symptoms. In the very beginning, perhaps you would have, but not now."

All Harry could think about was how he had thrown up the day before, and he figured that had to have something to do with it. But surely it was nothing to be overly concerned about; it was probably just some kind of stomach bug that's been going around. Besides, he felt fine, other than the sensation of having eaten too much that morning. Deciding to remain silent, he only had to wait a few moments until Snape finally dismissed him from the table.

Snatching up his bag, Harry was in a hurry to get to Transfiguration, but he didn't get two steps from the table when Snape reminded him to take the third potion that was still sitting next to his plate, right where he left it. With a grimace, Harry chugged it down quickly, then finished off the remains of his pumpkin juice to wash it all down. As he started to dash out the door, he paused for just a moment in the doorway, thought about it for a second, and then looked over his shoulder to mutter a quick "Bye" to the man who'd been helping him so much the last few days, and he was just as quickly gone the next second.

Snape couldn't help but to stare in disbelief at the closed door. Had the boy actually said 'bye'? What was the world coming to if 'the walking epitome of all things Gryffindor' had suddenly decided to be cordial to a Slytherin? And not just any Slytherin, but the actual Head of House?

Standing from his chair moments later and shaking his head in incredulity, Snape made his way over to his desk to prepare for that day's classes.

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Harry had gone but a few corridors from Snape's quarters when he felt his stomach suddenly lurch. Pausing in his hurried steps, Harry couldn't help the groan that escaped him when a horrible cramping made him double over. Dropping his bag to the floor, Harry threw a hand onto the wall closest to him in an effort to keep himself upright, while the other hand was busy hugging his belly. Knowing what to expect from his experiences the day before, Harry swiftly deliberated on which bathroom he could reach the fastest. Settling on the one he knew was just a few corridors away, he hurried in that direction, forgetting all about his school bag in his haste, and not caring that the lavatory he choose was the one located near the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

By the time he reached it, he had his hand firmly clamped over his mouth and he spared but a moment to make sure the hall was clear of any students that might be milling about before he rushed inside. Unfortunately, his body expelled his breakfast before he could reach a stall, and he found himself on his hands and knees choking up sour spittle.

As he sat back on his heels, panting from the physical exertion of what had just happened, he couldn't help but to feel a little concerned about the situation. Yeah, he had thrown up many times before, but surely this wasn't normal…feeling fine one moment, and then on his knees the next. Perhaps he should tell Snape about it. No, Harry scolded himself, don't waste his time. This is nothing new, you've thrown up before, and you certainly don't need his help. Besides, if he found out, he'll watch you even more closely, and that's the last thing you want. Then he'll think you're a freak, just like your relatives do.

"I'm not a freak," Harry whispered to himself. He said it once more before he finally opened his eyes, not realizing when he had shut them in the first place. Stumbling over to the closest sink, Harry splashed water onto his face and then studied his reflection in the mirror above it. Noticing how pale he was and not wanting to alert anyone that anything was amiss, he slapped his cheeks a few times, making them tinge with color. Once satisfied that he looked more normal, he cast a cleaning charm over the floor, looked over his shoulder one more time out of habit, and hastily exited the lavatory to find where he had dropped his bag, determined to make it to Transfiguration on time.

Seconds after the door closed behind him, a solitary figure emerged from the stall in the corner. The young man paused for several seconds as he stared into the room, as if he was witnessing the very events he had just overheard moments before. With a slightly troubled look, he made his way to the door, stopping just long enough to smooth down his blond hair before making his way to class.

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All in all, classes went horribly for Harry that day. Where he performed poorly the day before, he failed at miserably today. Every class required some sort of spellwork, all but Herbology that is, and in every instance, Harry just was not able to get his magic to produce any results. Most of the time, his wand would just give a short whizzle of golden sparks shooting out its end before ceasing to work at all. In Transfiguration, he had at least been able to get the stone that they were supposed to be turning into a bird to grow a few feathers, but after that, nothing seemed to work.

He wouldn't have minded asking Hermione for advice, but after a lunch full of her and Ron's prodding in their attempt to make him eat more, he really didn't feel like talking to either of them unless he absolutely had to. After lunch, while in Divination, he pulled his wand from his bag, determined to prove to himself that he could make it work.

He hid it under the edge of the table he sat at, and while Professor Trelawney yammered on and on about Fortune-Telling Talismans, Harry tried over and over to perform the Lumos spell. After five tries and without so much as producing a single flicker of light, he cursed under his breath and shook his wand in anger, nearly upsetting the crystal ball that was perched atop his table. After noticing the strange looks he was receiving from his classmates, Harry shoved the wand into his schoolbag, uncaring at this point if it were to get damaged in the process.

By the time class was over, Harry had grown so frustrated by the situation, that he didn't even wait around to say good-bye to Ron before rushing back down to Snape's quarters, hoping he would get a little time alone in order to cool himself off a bit.

When he got to the portrait of the "old man in green" as he had taken to calling it lately, he tried several times to repeat the password he had heard Snape use the day before, but to no avail. Apparently, he was saying it wrong. Of course, Harry sarcastically criticized himself, it's the perfect ending to a perfect day. He kicked at the door in frustration, but then jumped in alarm when a voice spoke up from behind him.

"He really hates it when people do that you know. It's not his fault you don't know the password."

Harry looked angrily back over his shoulder as Draco Malfoy stepped calmly up to the door and spoke the words Harry had previously attempted to.

"Mala tempora currunt"

The old man in the portrait appeared to be relieved that the correct password was finally given, and the wall seemed to slide away much faster than it had for Snape the previous evening. The Slytherin opened the door and stepped over the threshold, and just when Harry expected to have the door slammed in his face, Draco stepped to the side and asked,

"Well, are you coming in or not? I don't plan to stand here all day."

Harry bustled in, heading straight for his room, thinking of nothing more than of how nice it would be to finally be alone, but Draco called him back before he even got halfway there.

With a sigh of undisguised annoyance, Harry demanded, "What do you want now, Malfoy?"

"I don't want anything," he replied, "I just have something I need to tell you."

"Then get to the point," Harry directed, crossing his arms impatiently.

"I know what happened this morning, and I think you should tell Severus."

"What?" Harry tried to play dumb to buy himself some time. "What are you talking about?" Surely Malfoy wasn't talking about the episode of vomiting in the bathroom, was he? Maybe he was referring to Harry's poor performance in class. Yes, that must be it.

"You know what I'm talking about, Potter. You need to tell him what happened in the lavatory this morning."

Well, Harry thought to himself, there's that theory shot to Hell.

"Look, Malfoy, I don't know what you're talking about. I went straight to class after I left here this morning."

"Give it a rest, Potter," Draco started to get angry at Harry's constant denial, "You and I both know it happened. I was in the last stall and was about to leave when you came bursting in like you had Hellhounds on your heels and then proceeded to spew all over the floor."

"Is that so?" After the long frustrations of the day, Harry had just about had it, and he lost the slight hold he had on his temper. "I guess you thought it would be funny to just sit back and enjoy the show then did you? Well then, did you have fun spying on me? Do you finally have something you can go tell your friends about?!"

"Gods, no!" Draco retorted, absolutely affronted by the insinuation. "I didn't want to be there at all! But I was, and I'm telling you that you need to let Severus know what happened."

"Why the fuck should I, huh? And why the hell do you even care?" Harry demanded. "And quit calling him Severus in front of me, alright? He's your Godfather, not mine. To me he'll always be mean, old Professor Snape, the Git."

Now, Draco was furious with him. "Look, Potter, you need to tell him because it's his job to watch over you now that you're living in his quarters, and how well he does his job reflects on us Slytherins since he is our Head of House. And I never said I cared; I just don't fancy walking in here one day and finding your dead body lying on the floor!"

By the time Draco was done with his tirade, he had closed some of the distance between Harry and himself and was now staring irritably at him, his fists clenched angrily at his sides. It was at this point that Harry started feeling a niggle of what felt like guilt starting to gnaw at him.

Maybe the vomiting is more serious than I thought it was if Malfoy is this upset.

No longer sure of how he should handle the situation, Harry resolutely pushed the guilty feeling away and decided that the best course of action would be to get some time to himself to think. Seeing the anger still in Draco's eyes, Harry mumbled out a quiet, "Sorry," before fleeing to his room.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Harry pushed his face into his hands, wishing for the first time to be back at the Dursleys. Yes, it was horrible there, but at least he always knew what to expect. Plus, he would have been able to cut all he wanted to without anyone stopping him. Here, however, he had to deal with a nosey and ill-tempered Professor, erratic magic, and friends and enemies alike, watching him all the time. And to top it all off, he was being forced to take extra lessons with the creepy new DADA Professor, against his will. It was downright frustrating, and he had no idea how to deal with it all.

Leaning himself against the wall next to his door, Harry slid slowly down to the floor, his hands now raking through his hair as his thoughts raced. But the more he thought about the situation, the angrier he became. Before he had even realized what he had done, he had punched the wall, hard. He slowly became aware of what had happened as the throbbing of his hand pushed the thoughts out of his head, making him feel clear-minded for the first time in days.

He held the hand in front of himself for mere moments, watching the spots of blood pool upon the torn skin of his knuckles before giving into his impulses. With a dull 'thud' from the impact, he punched the wall again; this time, very much on purpose. Taking a deep breath of relief as the pain washed over him again, harsh and raw, he couldn't help himself but to do it again and again until the actions changed, somewhere along the way, into something beyond his control. Suddenly, he found himself taking all his anger, frustration, sadness, and a host of other feelings he couldn't even identify, and channeling them all into this one act.

Harry could hear someone sobbing over the noise of his now bloodied fist hitting the wall, and it took him several moments before he realized that he was his own voice he heard. He allowed himself to hit the wall one last time before crumpling the rest of the way to the floor in a heap, his emotions beyond his control by this point. As he rested the heated skin of his cheek against the cold stone floor, he wished for more than anything else for it all to come to an end.

A/N: Hi to all my faithful readers out there! You are still out there aren't you?

I am so sorry it took so long to update my story…Okay, okay, it pretty much took a whole year, but better late than never, right?

Anyways, life has been super hectic this past year. I've moved three times, spend all of last summer renovating a 5000 square foot Victorian home (plumbing, electric, the works), and I spent 5 months caring for my mother after a serious illness almost killed her. Now, I am home and have some semblance of order in my life once more. Therefore, I hope to never leave this story for so long again. My most sincere apologies to you all for making you wait such an incredibly long time.

Lastly, I would love to hear from those of you out there who have not given up on me. Please let me know if you are all still interested in this fic. I look forward to hearing from you. Thanks to you all!