Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I would have made the password into the headmasters office in first year "Fish Sticks" but as you can see I do not own Harry Potter, so it is not.

A Life Alone
Chapter Twenty-One
By Loony

To Harry's dismay, Sir did not teach him anything out of the ordinary in the few hours of the morning before anyone else woke up. Indeed he journeyed down to the Great Hall for breakfast only having learnt a few basic spells from his schoolbooks. He was not unappreciative of Sir's help though, and he doubted whether he would have managed to perform them at all if Sir hadn't been guiding him. Harry did not forgive him for failing to assist the night before however, but the two of them did not speak of it again.

The Great Hall was half-full by the time Harry reached it but there were few Gryffindors. Evidently they were the ones who liked to sleep in most. Quite happily he sat down at the table away from the few sitting along it and took a piece of toast. When Harry had been staying with Aunt Petunia she had always made him breakfast; he was, after all, only eight when he left. This being the case, he had never had to butter his own before and when he picked up a knife awkwardly with his gloved hand, he ended up just dumping a slab of butter onto the toast.

Not used to eating breakfast either, Harry only managed to eat half the slice before he was full again. It really was a great help that the potion to disguise his features hid his thin body from sight. With a sigh, he took out his potions books from his bag and started to read it once more.

Unnoticed by Harry, the hall slowly began to fill with students, chattering excitedly. He did not hear the many murmurings of his name nor the rumours, which were flying back and forth between tables concerning a certain Harry Potter. He might have stayed in that position, head bent over the book, for much longer had Professor McGonagall, who was handing out timetables, not interrupted him.

"Your timetable Mister White," she said, holding out a piece of paper for him to take. As he did so Harry noticed that she was looking unusually tired and worn considering it was only the first day of term. Now that he thought about it, the other teachers at the staff table were also looking distinctly exhausted. There was also the peculiar absence of the headmaster.

He took the piece of paper without so much as a word of thanks and Professor McGonagall moved on. It turned out that he would be seeing her in the not to distant future as he had Transfiguration first thing. He was about to get up and leave when the boy that had lost his toad, who had sat down opposite Harry without his knowledge, spoke.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" he asked.

Harry glared and said in one of his more menacing tones, "None of your business."

The boy gave a startled squeak and fell silent, immediately busying himself with the butter.

As Harry left the Great Hall he heard one of the older students pointing another first year in the direction of Transfiguration, so he found it fairly quickly. When he arrived he was the first one there meaning that everyone else had gotten lost. Feeling pleased with himself he walked into the classroom as the bell rang and took a seat at the far side, alone.

A few seconds later, the toad boy who had asked him about his gloves ran in. Harry made a point of glaring at him so that he sat as far away as possible. A few more pupils dashed into the classroom but there was still no sign of the teacher or the rest. Minutes slowly ticked past and Professor McGonagall walked smartly in with a trail of confused first years following her.

"Well take a seat," she barked at the unsuspecting students, who jumped in surprise and there was a mad scramble to get seats near their friends. Hermione Granger ended up sitting next to Harry as no one had made much of an effort to sit beside her either. It was hard to say which of the two was more disgruntled. When everyone was silent, Professor McGonagall began the lesson. She was definitely someone not to be crossed.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," Harry heard her say before he got too bored and stopped listening. It really was quite dull. She just droned on and on! It was all irrelevant anyway. That morning Sir had told him how to do simple Transfiguration without all this gobble-de-gook. McGonagall stopped in the middle of her lecture.

"Mister White, are you listening?"

Harry looked at her for a second before answering. "No," he said defiantly. If there was one thing Mir had taught him it was that there was nothing to fear about getting into a little trouble and that it was always funnier to tell the truth. Besides that, you could always tell what someone was like by his or her reaction to such things. There was a collective gasp by the classroom.

"Why not?" she asked sternly. It was easy to see he was about to be reprimanded. Impossible though it seemed, McGonagall seemed to grow in size.

He smiled slightly before answering coolly, "Because I find the floor so, much more interesting."

"White!" she barked and the rest of the class flinched. "You will pay attention or there will be serious consequences!"

"Like what?" Harry asked, genuinely curious. "There's no point in listening, so why should I?"

"Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek! If there's no point in listening, Mister White, kindly change this match into a needle." This had absolutely no effect on Harry, as he didn't know what house points were. No doubt McGonagall had explained it at the sorting. She handed him a small match which made his grin widen, making it much more obvious.

With a few flicks of his wand and a few chosen words, the match changed from wood to a thin silver needle. There was no doubt that it was perfect. McGonagall's lips thinned.

"You can take that stupid smirk off your face! Sit there and not another word!"

This was a little unjust, Harry thought later that lesson, because when the rest of the class attempted to change their own matches, the only person to make any difference was Hermione Granger who received one of McGonagall's rare smiles. There it was, the corrupt justice system. Make one mistake and you're condemned for life. Sirius's mistake was going after Pettigrew and that had gotten him a cell in Azkaban. Harry had not forgotten that little detail and one day he was going to break Sirius out.

As soon as the class was over a couple of boys called Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan rounded on him.

"What'd you do that for, eh?" Dean asked roughly. "We'll be in negative points on the first day soon!"

"Who cares?" Harry retorted nonchalantly.

"We do!" cried Seamus. "Look, you get your act together or else."

"Or else what? You'll go to your dear headmaster?" and with that Harry walked off, leaving two very confused boys behind.

xXxXxX

The rest of the week passed in a slow drone. Most of the lessons were incredibly dull and would not help Harry in the slightest in his quest to defeat Dumbledore. The most boring lesson was History of Magic, which was taught by a ghost. The teacher was none too attentive however, so Harry spent all those lessons reading his Defence Against The Dark Arts textbook. There was Astronomy in which they peered through telescopes attempting to learn the names of various constellations and Herbology where the students learnt to take care of all the magical plants. Now what use were those?

Charms was okay, thought Harry. It was taught by a small wizard called Professor Flitwick, who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. Harry kept his mouth shut in this lesson as it could actually come in useful. Defence Against The Dark Arts was easily the lesson he was looking forward to most. It was rather a disappointment when the lesson turned out to be a bit of a joke. The teacher was a stuttering Professor who was obviously very scared about the subject he taught.

In most lessons Harry paid no attention and made little effort, which soon made him the least popular person in first year from Gryffindor. Teachers were often giving him into trouble for it and taking points. It was on Wednesday when Harry had his first lesson of double Potions with the Slytherins.

Potions were down in the cold dungeons and Harry was the only Gryffindor to be grateful for being away from the garish colours of the castle. The class filed in moments before the bell rang. This time he found himself seated next to Neville Longbottom the round-faced boy who, whenever Harry looked at him, kept dropping things.

A hook-nosed man with greasy black hair swooped into the room, his black robes billowing out behind him. After he had taken the register, he gave a small lecture, which insulted the class's intelligence.

"Weasley!" he rounded on Ron. "What would I get if I added the powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Ron clearly was stumped. "I don't know, Sir." Harry could not keep a small smile off his face as he saw him squirm.

"White!" the teacher turned to him.

The smile faded somewhat and Harry made sure he did not look in the professor's eyes, opting for his forehead instead. "Yeah?"

"You will address me as "Sir" or "Professor" at all times, White. Same question."

"It makes a sleeping potion, Sir."

"Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek! You will find, White, I have many means of dealing with insolent pupils." Harry frowned. Why did that sound familiar? Snape moved on to question some other pupils. Many means of dealing with. Where had he heard that before? It certainly sounded familiar. Perhaps it was the tone of voice? Then it hit him.

"A friend who I know has many means of dealing with thieves."

Snape! It was Snape! Snape, who had been the cause of Mir's death… How he hadn't recognised him on sight was a mystery. Yet again Harry found himself losing control of his anger.

"Granger knows ask her, for God's sake!" he burst out as Snape took more points from Gryffindor when Neville Longbottom failed to answer a question.

"Ten more points, I think, Mr White," Snape called softly across the classroom. He stopped interrogating the pupils about their knowledge of potions, however, and he set them the task of concocting a simple potion to cure boils.

Harry found it incredibly difficult to so much as glance at Snape without the urge to shout something rude at him. Neville and he had to work together on the potion and Harry had to ban him from adding anything to the potion without his say so. Neville did nothing to improve his mood.

"No you thick ass! You don't add the porcupine quills until you take the cauldron off the fire!"

Neville dropped what he was holding and gave a frightened squeak. He hurried to shield himself from Harry.

"White!" Snape was back.

"What d'you want now?" Harry was rather quick to answer back.

Snape ignored his obvious attempt at provocation and sneered. "I don't remember gloves being on the uniform list. Take them off and it'll be another five points from Gryffindor for disregarding the uniform system."

"Nah, I'm good thanks." If he was made to take his gloves off… "Why don't you take off the mask your wearing then? That's not part of the uniform. Oh wait, so sorry. That's your real nose!" It was a cheap blow but Snape's nose was unnaturally hooked.

"That's it White. I've had enough of you! Headmaster's office, now! We'll see what he has to say about you. The rest of you! Clear up. You are dismissed," he barked out orders in every direction. Harry assumed he was going to accompany him up to the office.

"I don't care what your precious Dumbledore has to say," he sneered in return. "He can go to hell for all I care."

Perhaps Harry had struck a nerve or Snape had recognised something he had said but whatever it was, it had made a brief change in the teacher's demeanour. For the smallest of moments a look of utter surprise passed over his face and he mouthed the word "Potter" barely moving his lips. He must have dismissed it for a second later there was no sign of these reactions.

"Follow me."

Snape led the way up through the entrance hall, along many corridors and up quite a few staircases. Harry was very familiar with the school now; he prided himself on being the only first year not to have gotten lost in the giant labyrinth that was Hogwarts Castle. Not a word was spoken between teacher and student as they marched through the well-trodden paths. Eventually they came to stop in front of a large stone gargoyle which stood glaring down at them, immobile.

Snape muttered a few chosen words so quietly that Harry did not catch them. At Snape's indication he took the lead up the winding staircase that the gargoyle had revealed by jumping aside. At the top of the moving stairs, there was a large wooden door, which Snape knocked upon three times

"Enter."

The door swung open to reveal a large circular room filled with strange silver instruments, which were spinning, emitting puffs of smoke and making all sorts of strange noises. Outlining the walls were portraits of every headmistress and headmaster the school had ever seen. In the very centre of the room stood a large wooden desk, sitting behind which was a very old wizard.

Harry looked at the floor just as he heard, "Remember not to make eye contact." He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the office. It was just the sort of thing he expected Dumbledore to have for an office.

"My, my! Whatever brings you here, Severus?" Dumbledore sounded surprised. Apparently he wasn't all knowing. Either that or he was feigning shock – a feat that Harry wouldn't put past him.

"Mister White here, has been rude, obnoxious and intolerable to his peers and myself alike and has shown a blatant disregard for school dress code," Snape drawled.

This really was a bit unfair and Harry was not going to sit and take the abuse. "Is it really my fault that your hair's too greasy to be real?" True, he hadn't actually mentioned Snape's hair before but it had the desired effect.

"Five points from Gryffindor!" he snapped causing Harry to yawn loudly and obviously. Snape looked ready to hit him.

It was now Dumbledore's turn to speak. "I believe two weeks of detention would be adequate punishment for now, providing, Jeremy, you remove your gloves."

"I will not!" Harry cried still looking resolutely at the ground.

"Insolent boy," muttered Snape.

"Snivellus." Harry was not sure what made him say it. Before he said it, he had no idea what effect it would have or the meaning behind it. It was something like a sixth sense that told him it would be a particularly spiteful thing to say to Snape. Glancing up at him, Harry saw that he had paled as far as his sallow skin would allow him and his hands were clenched in fury. Harry also felt, rather than saw, Dumbledore sitting up sharply.

This time Snape did not just mouth the words. "Potter," he snarled.

"Now, now, Professor," Harry said tauntingly. "I think you're confused. I was under the impression that Harry Potter was dead and that I was Jeremy White."

"Take off the blasted gloves, White," growled Snape.

"Severus," Dumbledore warned in the midst of his and Harry's glaring match. "Now, as I said, I think two weeks of detention shall be enough for now but seeing as Jeremy is so unwilling to remove his gloves we shall make it three."

"Headmaster you know I am –"

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore interrupted Snape impatiently. "Since you are too busy to host the detentions, Severus, I shall arrange for them to be with Professor McGonagall. You may leave." And without another word the two of them left the office.

Harry was all for returning to his next class but Snape stopped him at the foot of the stairs. "Where did you learn that, White?"

"A little birdie told me," he said very mysteriously and tapped the side of his nose for effect. Truth be told he had no idea how he knew it.

"I'm watching you," leered the professor before turning to go, his robes billowing out behind him.

"Excellent!" he cried in mock delight. "Bye-bye then!" and to put the icing on the cake he waved a gloved hand goodbye.

xXxXxX

AN: (Snickers) I think I found this chapter a bit too amusing considering I wrote it. Well, I suppose it is quite late now... Oh my! So many reviews! Whee! (Gives biscuits to all reviewers) Thank you so much!

Ah well, review! Loonz.