A/N: Sorry for the super later chapter! Been sick and I can't focus on writing when I'm sick; I can read and sleep, and that's pretty much it. Hehe.

I reached over 200 reviews for this story so far! Thanks everyone for reviewing! I'll try to be better at updating regularly. Hehe. Enjoy!

Chapter 25 – First Week of School

"Do you want to meet your friends at the carriages?" Snape asked, and Harry shook his head. "Do you want to go see Draco?"

"No," Harry said quickly. Draco had been back for a few days already, and they had gone for their school stuff yesterday with a team or Order members to make sure they weren't going to get attacked. Harry wondered why, if they were so worried about Voldemort, why someone else didn't just pick up their supplies, but he hadn't complained about getting out of the school.

He never thought he actually want to get out of Hogwarts.

Neither of them had been allowed to ride the train, though, which had put Harry in a bad mood. He had been hoping to talk to Wyatt and Jake in the quiet of a train compartment before the feast; he knew Wyatt already knew something was wrong because Snape had asked Wyatt's dad for use of his library – although Snape promised he didn't tell him why he asked for access – but he knew he'd still be getting looks once everyone saw him.

He looked like a skeleton. He could count how many ribs he had just by looking in the mirror. His healer at St. Mungos – Healer Jacob – suggested a weight-gain potion, but it didn't seem to Harry that it was doing any good.

Healer Jacob was okay, Harry had decided shortly after he met him. He wasn't constantly asking Harry if he was alright like everyone else was, at least.

If Harry were honest, Snape wasn't either. Harry thought that Snape figured out that Harry was annoyed by the constant questions and just reminded him frequently that he could talk to him at any time. Harry still wasn't sure it was an offer he wanted to take up, but the fact that the option was there at least made Harry feel a little better about it.

"Do I have to go to the feast?" Harry asked, and Snape looked at him as if he were pesky potions ingredient again.

"Yes," Snape said. "Even if it wasn't the first day of classes, there would be no one to watch you." Snape continued to stare at him. "Do you like Slytherin?" Snape asked, surprising Harry with the sudden change in topic.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Do you enjoy being in Slytherin, as opposed to Gryffindor?"

That's a strange question, Harry thought. He honestly hadn't given it much thought in the past.

"I guess," Harry said slowly. "It's really not that much different. I miss the tower, though. I like being high."

"Not much different?" Snape asked, sounding confused.

"Well, no," he said. "I think Ravenclaw might be the only house that's really different, but . . ." Harry trailed off. Another reason he wasn't looking forward to this school year, and he had completely forgotten it. He snuck a glance at Snape, who was looking at him oddly. "Like, I mean, some things are different, but . . ." he shrugged. "I don't know."

Should he tell Snape about the Ravenclaws threat?

"I . . . er . . . I forgot to tell you, though, the Ravenclaws . . ." Harry trailed off as Snape's expression turned to slightly annoyed, but he pushed on anyway. "They know that we were . . . not talking to each other the end of last year and . . . well . . . well, they want me to do something for them," he managed to get out quickly.

"What is it they want?" Snape asked.

"I don't know. Rowe said he was giving me time to think about it . . . I don't think they're going to leave me alone, this year."

Snape watched him darkly, and Harry looked away.

"Find out what they want, but do not agree to anything," Snape said, leaving it at that. "We will go to the Great Hall now. The rest of the students will be arriving any moment."

The Great Hall was empty except for the Professors hovering around the Head Table and the moment they walked in, all eyes looked at Harry. He avoided their glances as Snape sat him down at the Slytherin Table as close to the Head Table as possible and met with the rest of the professors. Knowing they were talking about him, Harry put his forehead down on his hands on the cold table and waited.

After what felt like a very long time, someone sat down hard next to him and gave him a slight push. Looking up to find Wyatt staring hard at him, Harry went back to pretending to hide.

"You look like you haven't eaten all summer."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said sharply. "Its not like I can help it."

"Dad said you were hit with a dark curse," he said.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Where's Jake?"

"Got himself a girlfriend," Wyatt said. "He'll talk to you when we go back to the dorms."

"What?" Harry asked. "Who?"

"Jennifer Waynt," he said smugly, and Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"I thought she hated him."

"I think she still does," he said, and Harry narrowed his eyes at Wyatt.

"Then why are they going out?"

"No idea. But she doesn't seem pleased about it. Keeps acting like she's annoyed with him."

Harry shook his head again. "I'm not going back to the dorms, though. I have to stay in my dad's room. Just . . . in case."

"The curse is that bad?" Wyatt asked, his smile disappearing.

"Yeah. Almost killed me. Still might, if they can't find a way to reverse it." Harry sounded calmer than he felt about it.

They spent the rest of the feast in silence, Harry ignoring the stares of the students who noticed him and the worried looks of the professors.

The first class the next day was Defense, and Snape, embarrassingly, walked Harry straight from the Great Hall to class, through the group of fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors to the front of the classroom. Harry sat and, thankfully, Wyatt and Jake sat next to him quickly.

Snape lectured for nearly half the class – nothing Harry didn't already know – before having them pair up to test a shield charm. Harry knew he could cast it, being one that the fake Moody had taught them in his last fourth year, he stood across from Wyatt, the boy gave him a worried look.

"Are you sure I should be throwing hexes at you?" he whispered, and Harry glared.

"I can still do magic," Harry huffed, getting a look from Snape.

"Okay, well . . . I want to go first," he said. "You'll probably get it before me, anyway." So Harry sent a hex at his friend, who didn't really manage to get a shield up. Which didn't turn out bad because Harry's wand barely sparked.

A stinging hex didn't spark. Harry looked at the tip of his wand as if it would tell him what went wrong. He gave it a shake out of frustration and tried again.

"Hey! Give me some warning!" Wyatt said, rubbing his shoulder. The hex still didn't do much. Not like a stinging hex was supposed to, even though his friend didn't notice the lack of true sting. "Let me try the shield without you cursing me."

A few tries later, Wyatt managed a half-decent shield that managed to stop Harry's pathetic stinging hex. "Okay, you try, Tristan."

Ten minutes later, Harry barely managed something that didn't really stop any of Wyatt's hexes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Wyatt asked and Harry merely gave a shrug, glancing over at Snape.

Defense was supposed to be something he was good at.

The next few days were more of the same; Snape walked him to his first class, and he promised to stay with his classmates on his way to his following classes. Free periods were either spent with Snape or in the Hospital Wing. After a couple of days, Snape finally let him spend a short amount of time in the common room with his friends as long as he promised he wouldn't be alone at any time.

Harry could honestly say he wanted some alone time. He had to admit that Snape was acting nicer towards him, and although Harry wasn't exactly sure he could fully trust his fake-father, they had managed a few nice, personal conversations that were more Snape-asks-a-question-and-Harry-answers sessions than actual conversations. Harry was half-uncomfortable half the time because he wasn't used to an adult asking him questions about how he spent his day or what he had been doing with his free time, but Snape seemed to listen, and Harry found it was nice to be listened to once in awhile. Even if it was for stupid stuff.

Finally, Friday – and Double Potions with the Ravenclaws – came, and Harry found himself wishing Snape was teaching the class. It was Professor Slughorn who was teaching this year, and although he didn't seem mean like Snape or crazy like Trelawny, Harry felt there was something . . . off about him. Harry wanted to blame it on the fact that Slughorn was a Slytherin, but as he himself was in the Slytheirn house, his excuse didn't make much sense even to him.

That, and without Snape there, he felt like the Ravenclaws were watching him, even though he hadn't seen any of them look his way. He tried to tell himself he was just being paranoid.

It was after class, following Wyatt and Jake and the rest of the fourth year potions class, did Harry finally feel like he could handle the Ravenclaws. They hadn't talked to him, hadn't even appeared to notice him this year, and halfway to the stairs out of the dungeons, Harry found himself relieved.

Suddenly, Harry felt a tingle, as if a charm was just placed on him, before he was roughly dragged into the corridor they were passing. He tried to yell out, but when no sound came out, he realized the charm must have been a silencing charm. Instead, Harry tried to turn to see who was pulling him down the corridor, but the hands were too strong, and they kept dragging him backwards.

Finally, they stopped, and Harry turned around, wand drawn, to face Rowe.

"Don't even think about fighting, Snape," the older boy said. "I know more hexes than you could probably conceive, and I'm willing to bet I'm a lot quicker than you, too. You look like you could barely lift your wand."

With Rowe's wand pointed straight at his head, Harry wasn't stupid enough to try anything.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, finding the silencing spell taken off.

"I think you know," he said dangerously. "Your father."

"No," Harry said, and he saw the other student's eyes grow dark.

"You may wish to consider," he said flatly. "He doesn't seem to be taking care of you very well, has he?"

"He's taken care of me fine!" Harry said. "I got cursed, and he's trying to find a way to reverse it."

Rowe laughed. "I heard you got cursed at the beginning of the summer. Don't you think that if he was going to find a counter-curse, he would have found it already?" Rowe sounded smug and Harry really wanted to throw a few curses his way. Harry nearly started an incantation, stopping himself as he realized what the curse on the tip of his tongue was.

I don't practice the Dark Arts!Harry yelled at himself, refusing to believe he was about to use a Dark curse on anybody.

Rowe was too busy talking to notice.

"We could help you," he continued. "The resources we have . . . some twice as old as Hogwarts, if not more." The boy paused. "So, think about it. Information on your dad for your life. Not such a horrible trade, is it?"

Rowe left then, and Harry watched him go. It was a few minutes later that Harry realized he was alone in the dungeons, but aside from being extremely tired, he didn't feel like he was in any danger, but he knew Snape wouldn't be happy if he found out.

Rushing forward, he managed to make it to Charms before class started, passing by Wyatt and Jake along the way. He would deal with them, later.

Harry slide into a seat as Flitwick started talking, but he realized he couldn't concentrate, despite him knowing this was going to be his hardest class, being a NEWT level class and this was the first Charms class of the year – the first two classes had been canceled because Flitwick had to go somewhere. Still, Flitwick was outlining what he was expecting of everyone at the moment, and all Harry could think about was his almost-attempt at cursing someone.

Harry made it through Charms with something that resembled notes and he waited for Flitwick to walk him to Snape's office, where Harry promptly fell asleep on a large armchair that Snape had brought in specifically for his use.

Harry sat at the Slytherin table between Wyatt and Jake, who were animatedly chatting around him. After a few minutes of them failing to finish their conversation, Harry huffed.

"Can I switch with one of you? I'm trying to eat," Harry said, although he hadn't been trying too hard to actually eat anything in front of him. It didn't really matter, he supposed. If he didn't manage to eat anything now, Snape would have the elves bring food that wouldn't upset him as much later.

Jake got up to get Harry slide over with a, "Sorry, Tristan," and Harry shrugged. As they got back into their conversation, Harry glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Hermione's nose was in a book, while Ron and Ginny were talking; Ron looked smug and Ginny looked as if Ron had said something particularly insulting. Harry deeply wished he was over there, talking with them. Wyatt and Jake were great, but he had gone through things with his friends in Gryffindor, he realized with a pang that he might never have that with them again, if he couldn't ever tell them he really was Harry.

Suddenly, Ginny got up, flinging her fiery red hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head and started heading past the house tables. The smug look on Ron's face had been wiped off, and Harry wondered what they had been arguing about. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Ginny started past the Slytherin table out the door . . . only she didn't go out the door.

She took a turn and a few seconds later, Harry found Ginny right behind him. Wyatt and Jake stopped talking and stared at her. Harry, not sure what was going on, turned slower, giving his old friend a wary look. As Tristan, Ginny never really seemed interested in talking to him. He figured she never forgave him for speaking against Ravenclaw, but he never really gave it much thought.

"Hello, Tristan," she said in a strangely sweet voice.

"Hi," he answered. "Can I help you?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after dinner? Maybe we can talk a walk to the pitch or something?" Harry wanted to say something was still off in her voice, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what.

Jake barked out a laugh. "Yeah, like Snape will let him out of his sight," he said, then turned to Harry. "Or you'll fall asleep halfway through the walk."

"Jake!" Harry and Wyatt said together, and Harry found himself blushing, although he wasn't sure if it was because of Jake or that Ginny was asking him to take a walk with her.

"What? It's true! It's not exactly safe for him to be so far away from a professor, with the curse and all," he said with a shrug.

Harry took a peek at Ginny out of the corner of his eye and saw her eyes had narrowed. "Oh. My parents had said something about you getting cursed," she said as she looked him over. "We don't have to go for a walk, though. Maybe just talk somewhere?" Harry saw her look over at the Head Table where Snape would be sitting. "Maybe before dinner tomorrow, then? It should be more or less empty in here . . ." Ginny sounded less sure now, and Harry didn't miss the look at Gryffindor table before she looked back at him.

"Sure," Harry said hesitantly. He wasn't sure why Ginny was talking with him now, out of nowhere, but he suspected Ron had something to do with it; he knew his friends well enough to gather that, but he wasn't going to question time with Ginny too much. If he managed to get on well enough with Ginny and Hermione – although he wasn't sure how well off their feeble friendship was at the moment – maybe Ron would come around, too, because he couldn't very well write them as Harry Potter anymore.

"Great!" she said, it sounding more like an agreement than being happy about it, but Harry saw her give a smug look towards the Gryffindor table again before walking off, and Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

Did she just bet Ron she'd talk to him or something? Geesh, Harry thought before going back to staring at his food sullenly.

"Did the Gryffindor just ask you out on a date?" Wyatt asked around Jake, who was just kind of staring at him.

"Not much of a date," Harry said with a shrug. "We'll be sitting here, probably with half the professors at the Head Table making sure I don't pass out or something," he continued bitterly.

"She knew your name," Jake pointed out.

"Yeah," Harry said, not sure how much he could really let on about how Tristan knew the Weasleys. "Dad knows the Weasleys," he said. "She's in fifth year . . ."

They dropped it after that, thankfully, and they went back to their conversation, leaving Harry to wish for better days.

After dinner, Harry followed Snape down to their rooms and, as predicted, there was some food waiting for him, along with his small tray of potions. Harry downed the potions first, hoping whatever he managed to eat would get rid of the potions taste from his mouth.

Snape sat down next to him with a book as Harry forced himself to eat, but Snape didn't seem interested in reading. Instead, he was half staring at Harry. Which reminded him . . .

"Ginny wants to . . . er . . . talk with me in the Great Hall before dinner. Well, she wanted to go for a walk to the pitch, but . . . I didn't think that would be a very good idea . . ."

Snape was giving him a strange look.

"Have you had a girlfriend before?" Snape asked suddenly.

"What? No," Harry said, embarrassed that Snape was asking that. "This . . . probably isn't like that," he continued. "I think Ron bet her she wouldn't talk to me. I saw them arguing before Ginny came over . . ."

Harry felt his face must have been bright red, and the look Snape was giving him made it even worse. What did he think, that him and Ginny were going to start snogging in the Great Hall?

"Rowe found me today," Harry said, trying to change the subject. He did not want to hear about dating from Snape, although he doubted Snape would ever want to talk about dating to him, anyway. "Well, dragged me down a corridor, more like," he mumbled, then wished he hadn't.

"Dragged you down a corridor? And this is the first time I'm hearing about it?" Snape growled, and Harry looked down, shrugging. He had been more worried about what he almost did . . . not that he planned on ever on telling Snape that. A few minutes later, Snape spoke to him in a less harsh – if not obviously irritated – tone. "What happened?"

"We were walking from potions, and I was following everyone else," Harry said quickly. He didn't want Snape to accuse him of purposefully leaving his classmates. "He silenced me and dragged me down the corridor. It wasn't like I could do anything about it." Snape was glaring at him, but wave him on. "He wants information on you."

"Why?" Snape asked.

"I don't know. But . . ." Harry couldn't believe he forgot this, even though he had been feeling pretty awful at the time. "He said they would have books and stuff that could help me . . ."

This got Snape's attention.

"Who?" Harry shrugged.

"His family, I guess? Didn't say, but . . . er . . . what do I do?"

"I'll think about it," Snape snapped, putting down his book. "Are you done eating?"

Harry looked at his bowl of plain rice, turkey and vegetables. At least it's salted, he thought.

"No, keep eating," Snape said absentmindedly. "I want you to finish that bowl. It isn't that much," he continued as he stood. "I'm going to speak with the Headmaster. I'll go through the floo . . . I'll leave the connection open . . ."

Harry stared as Snape inattentively explained where he was going and went through the floo, but after a moment, forced himself to eat his food. This was the first time Snape had left him alone since he got cursed, and he wondered how bad it was that Rowe was wanting information on him. Perhaps there was more to the Ravenclaw story that he had been told?

"Who are they, Albus?" Severus asked.

"Their intent? No one knows They've managed to keep it secret for centuries, but they haven't been known to cause problems like this in the past. It makes me wonder if it is merely the children, and not their parents."

"It's an established group?" Severus asked.

"I assume so. Or it could simply be an idea . . ." Albus gave a chuckle, and Severus' glare deepened.

"I don't find the idea of Tristan being threatened simply because the students dislike me," Severus said bitterly. "The fact that he's been dragged away from the safety of his classmates is not a laughing matter."

"Of course not, Severus," Albus said. "Are you two getting alone better?"

Severus shifted in his seat. Were they? He hadn't felt the need to outright yell at the boy recently, so he supposed they must be.

"Yes," he said, voice flat. "Do you think they'd have the resources to help?"

"They may," Albus answered, but he didn't sound entirely pleased about it. "But I would think twice about getting them involved. The Intelligentia are rumored to . . . collect knowledge, but I would be wary about what they would ask for in return."

"This is Tristan's life," Severus pointed out. "This is Harry Potter's life," he emphasized, and Albus looked depressed.

"Have all other resources truly gone dry, Severus? If the Intelligentia have information on the curse, it must exist elsewhere. Do not throw your life in with theirs," the Headmaster warned.

Severus travel back through the floo to find Tristan had finished his food. "Would you rather come to the library or go to the Hospital Wing?" Severus asked.

"Er . . ." the boy said sitting up; he looked as if he were about to fall asleep again. "Library," he said. "I could get my homework done." He picked up his bag, and Severus led the way. He deposited Tristan at a table near the Restricted Section, which he saw the boy eyeing, and he entered without a good idea of what he was going to look for.

The girl was there. She noticed him, but plainly ignored him. Severus had forgotten about her, as he hadn't seen her since he yelled at her the first time, but he had talked to Albus about her reluctance to help. And, it seemed, he should really consider going to the non-mandatory staff meetings.

"Hello," he said slowly, and she turned in the ladder slightly to face him, book in hand. Severus tried not to scowl. "I wish to apologize for my behavior towards you the last time we met," he continued. He did feel regret at his actions, but he wasn't particularly comfortable with apologizing, he had to admit. "I wasn't aware of the circumstances which led to you work for Hogwarts, nor had I realized your reluctance to come near me was because of a fear of magic."

She stared at Severus for a moment before continuing to replace the book in her hand and slowly climbing down the ladder. She eyed him cautiously, but nodded before leaving. Severus sighed. Even after Albus explained the situation as best to his knowledge, he still didn't fully understand why she was here and not back with muggles. Surely, they had the ability to recreate an identity for the girl?

Severus told himself to leave it; integration back into the muggle world after being a victim of the Dark Lord's magical experimentation – and being locked in the Malfoy dungeons – would have to be difficult, especially since Albus explained that the life the girl believed to live simply didn't exist. It was as if the Dark Lord had erased her memories and planted false ones, but to what end, Severus simply couldn't fathom.

Severus should his head, getting back on task. He just knew he needed to research something, because too much longer, and he would probably have to send Tristan into St. Mungos' care. He had done his best to convince the healer this hadn't been necessary so far, but a continued loss of weight, and he'd have no choice but to take the risk and hope the Dark Lord hadn't infiltrated the hospital.

At least it seemed he could get through classes without trouble, for the most part, although nearly all his professors reported that he tended to fall asleep. They let him, but Severus hoped it wouldn't put him behind too much in his studies. Thankfully, the boy already had most of these classes.

Severus perused the Dark Arts books without aim. It seemed useless; he and Lucius went through anything remotely relevant during the summer, and all they came up with were references. Wyatt's father's library – Jordan Whittle – had a few old texts which he got a better idea of what type of curse they were dealing with, but nothing that would help him break it down and build a counter-curse. Severus had even snuck into Malfoy Manor to sort through the books there – thankfully, Lucius was able to get him passed the wards; the Dark Lord had been none the wiser of them returning.

Albus didn't want him to deal with those Ravenclaw's parents. Didn't want him to deal with the Intelligentia. But did Severus really have a choice?

Looking back at the entrance, Severus noticed that Tristan had come up to it and was waiting. With a sigh and a flick of a wand, he opened the gate and the boy walked in, albeit looking ashamed.

"I was wondering," the boy said before Severus could ask him what he wanted. He paused, and Severus waved his hand to indicate he should continue. "Well, you know how Dark curses can't be healed by regular magic or means?" Tristan asked, and Severus nodded. "I mean, I guess that's why Mad-Eye Moody has all those scars, anyway? Well, I was wondering, even if . . . even if . . ." The boy took a big breath in. "What if, when you find a counter-curse, I don't heal, any? What if I'm like one big scar and I'll never be able to eat anything or gain weight or stay awake?"

Severus looked toward the gate and put up a silencing charm around them. He wasn't sure how much of the Dark Arts the boy had actually studied, but hopefully it would be enough to quell his fears a bit. Not that Severus himself was completely sure, though.

"You indicated previously that you understood that Dark magic can unravel a Dark curse better than a light magic can? And that was why you wished to study the Dark Arts?"

Tristan nodded slowly. "But . . . what if the counter-curse only stops the curse from killing me, but I stay sick, because that came slowly after of the curse, but not because of the curse."

Severus stared at the boy in front of him. He had to admit, he hadn't given that much thought; the hope was that he developed a counter-curse and that would stop the deterioration, and then the potions they were giving him would heal him, and then he could work on the boy's weight and health. The idea that the boy's current state of health could be a scar-like condition hadn't crossed his mind once.

Severus stood in awe of the boy's understanding of an Art he should have never gotten into, and it worried him that the boy seemed to have a natural talent for it.

Much like Severus himself.

Granted, theoretically, Moody's scars could have been healed with a proper cure, but any research on the matter – if it had even come up at St. Mungos – would have been turned away. The hospital did not approve of Dark Arts being practiced in the building . . . even if it healed.

"Then I will focus on unraveling the magic that is preventing you from healing," Severus said slowly, realizing how scared it was making him, how scared he felt that the elusive answer he was chasing might not be an answer at all.

He needed better resources.

What would he give up for Lily's son to survive? What would be the price he would have to pay were he to approach the Intelligentia and ask for help, for a favor? What would he risk for the chance that they would give him assistance, or at least access to the resources he needed?

What would he give in return for the life and safety of Tristan Snape?

The answer, Severus realized, wasn't as surprising as he thought it should have been. This was Harry Potter, after all, a boy he had loathed for too many years. But, still, the answer was there, stronger than he imagined it ever could be:

Anything. He would do anything to save the child in front of him.

A/N continued: So, Harry's old friends will have a place in the main plot of the story eventually, but up until then, how much are you guys interested in actually seeing them in the story as opposed to their implied interactions? At this point, Hermione's forgiven him, Ron wants nothing to do with him, and you'll have to wait to see what Ginny wants with him (and I haven't actually decided how developed a relationship between Ginny and Harry/Tristan would be, so you are free to weigh in on that if you want . . .). Fred and George did the same bail-out they did in the fifth book in this story, but Harry was rather isolated from them at the time, so it wasn't mentioned in-story (and they have been working on their joke shop). Um . . . I think that's it.