A New Place To Stay

Chapter 29

Quidditch, Umbridge, and Surprised Teachers, Oh My!


Hermione spent all her free time reading up on Patronuses, still unable to believe Neville Longbottom had cast one. Her book bag was considerably heavier as she attended classes; not only was the Patronus bothering her, so was Harry. Every class they attended, Harry put his hand up and earned points for Gryffindor for correct answers! Never in the five years Harry had been at Hogwarts, had he put his hand up and volunteered to answer questions. Needless to say, she was flustered and completely red in the face by the end of the classes. She felt undeniably betrayed by the way Harry was acting... it was as if he were trying to show her up.

Harry was actually feeling rather proud of himself, despite the fact that the teachers were completely gobsmacked at his participation in class. Professor Sprout had gaped at him for a good few seconds, after he'd answered her question correctly. It made him feel extremely confused, even if he was proud. Was his participation really that much of a surprise that the teachers had to stare at him, as thought they couldn't believe he was there? It wasn't his fault really. He'd had it drummed into him since he'd been five years old, since attending first year at primary school, that he wasn't to do better than their Dudders, or suffer the consequences. Even here he couldn't help but do what was expected of him. Be good at Defence and nothing else. Severus didn't want that to continue; he wanted him to do his best in all his classes. He only wished that someone had taken an interest in him sooner. He wiped those thoughts away, deciding to concentrate on the here and now. Wishing wasn't going to do him any good, just like the mirror of Erised, really. Wishing was like dreaming, it stopped you from living your life.

"You going to the Quidditch game, Harry?" Neville asked curiously.

"What, not going to beg me to play again too?" Harry asked a little more sarcastically than he intended to. He shouldn't be taking his frustration out on Neville; it wasn't fair or right. The members of the Quidditch team had begged him all morning, during breakfast and catching him before classes. He hadn't even replied, just regarded them coldly before leaving.

"What do you mean?" Neville asked quietly, sitting there, a confused look coming upon his features.

"Sorry, Neville; ignore me― I'm just in a bad mood," Harry murmured apologetically.

"It's okay, but if you want to talk, I am here," Neville said honestly, his features serene.

"Thanks, Nev," Harry grinned, his anger disappearing immediately.

"By the way, the room? It's brilliant!" Neville blurted, completely over the moon. "I wanted to help Luna with her Herbology, and texts and PLANTS! appeared in the room so I could demonstrate."

"Well it is called the Room of Requirement for a reason, Nev," Harry smiled, glad to have helped someone. A part of Harry felt rather guilty for being so heavy-handed with Hermione. She only wanted to help the others keep their grades up. Unfortunately, a kicked dog only took so many kicks before biting back. Harry was that dog, not so desperate for approval anymore ― he didn't just sit back and allow others to do what they liked. There hadn't been a year gone by where his housemates hadn't gone against him at some point. When he had lost points, fifty points for being out of bounds. All was forgiven at the leaving feast of course, since he won them the cup. Second year had been by far the worst up until that point. How could they have thought he had the power to petrify people? Of course all had been forgiven in the end as if it had never happened. Third year had been okay, apart from Malfoy and the others playing tricks on him. Fourth year, well, that had been a bad year, with everyone calling him a liar, cheat, and all the other names under the sun. Oh, of course they'd forgiven him in the end, after he'd nearly been killed by an enraged dragon. Now this, them constantly calling him a liar again… there was only so much one person could take. When he thought of all the times they had accused him of being dark, a cheat, and a liar, his guilt evaporated. If they wanted to learn, they could do it themselves; it didn't make him horrible to say no, did it? He didn't like to think so. It wasn't his responsibility; he was the same age as the rest of them. He didn't have any more magical experience than they did, either; in fact he probably had less. He had only received four years of magical tutoring; did they forget he hadn't grown up in the magical world? Hermione didn't know about the intensive training he had received from Severus before school had started back up.

"Yeah," Neville agreed, still completely happy.

"By the way… I meant to say…" Harry began, contemplating how to say it without giving Sev away.

"What?" Neville asked curiously, as they walked back from Herbology; his friend had answered really good questions. He, of course, had known the answers too, and Sprout more than most always called him up, knowing he did. Hermione also knew them; he couldn't deny it had surprised him that Harry had raised his hand. He wasn't jealous, though; he was just happy his friend knew about Herbology ― it was his favourite class after all. He had seen Hermione though, not just during Herbology, but reading about Patronuses. He had been forced to suppress a smirk. HE, Neville Longbottom, had succeeded in casting a spell before the brightest witch of their age. Fortunately for her, Neville wasn't one to brag; he was a quite down-to-earth teenager who'd been convinced he was a Squib for ten years before attending Hogwarts.

"I don't mean any disrespect to your Gran… or even your dad!" Harry quickly added, "but… I think you should get a new wand, Neville… just imagine, I mean, you were able to cast a Patronus with a wand not suited for you… can you imagine what you would be capable of with a wand that was?"

Neville stared at the ground, still moving, before facing his friend. "I know; I've been thinking the same thing… but Gran would be so angry if I did such a thing."

"Neville… is it because money is tight?" Harry quietly ventured.

Neville laughed sadly. "No, Harry; my parents were… well, purebloods. The Longbottoms have a lot of money and properties. We don't have anything like the Malfoys, of course… but we are hardly strapped for Galleons."

"Oh," Harry said. Well, that did make sense; he had inherited a lot from his parents too. "Well, you can't always make your grandmother happy, Nev; after all, it might mean the difference between life and death with a wand of your own."

"Yeah, you might be right… but I'd need to wait until summer; Ollivander's is in Diagon Alley." Neville said, agreeing with Harry. The more his friend talked, the more convinced Neville became to purchase his own.

"I wouldn't wait until then, Neville," Harry said solemnly. "Each year near the end of school HE does something big, and if you get caught in the crossfire, I'll never forgive myself."

"Then how?" Neville asked, as they walked into the Great Hall, waving at Luna as he took his own seat.

"Hogsmeade weekend is coming up. Floo to the Leaky Cauldron; it will only take a few minutes," Harry said, grabbing food that he knew Severus would approve of. He was still on his "diet," building up muscle; he was also still doing his morning runs. Unfortunately, he couldn't attend Hogsmeade, since they hadn't signed his forms again. Speaking of the Dursleys, he wondered if Dumbledore had caught them yet or not. The thought of going back to them thoroughly sickened him; even now he had homesick pangs of longing to be behind the wards of Prince Manor. He had only been there two months, yet it was the best place he had ever been. Severus didn't have to pretend to be nasty or anything, and life had been simple. Hell, he preferred it to Hogwarts, and that was saying something indeed.

"Won't I get into big trouble for that?" Neville asked.

"What are they going to do to you, Neville? Throw you out of school for getting a better wand?" Harry scoffed, sounding very much like his potions Master; if he didn't watch himself, he'd know all about it. His true colours were shining through: his Slytherin colours.

"Well, now that you mention it…" Neville laughed, feeling particularly silly.

"Tell you what, Nev: get a new wand, and I'll teach you some new spells… defensive spells," Harry said, knowing that would egg him on. Remembering Neville's comment about his being a good teacher, it made him feel particularly fuzzy inside.

"Really?" Neville asked, a look of astonishment on his face.

"I promise," Harry solemnly said, between bites, able to eat a lot more food than ever before.

"Deal!" Neville chimed, a proud look on his face. He couldn't believe Harry was willing to teach him some spells. He had said no to Hermione, yet he was saying yes to him! Well, he would do his friend proud and try his best.

"So, are you going?" Neville asked after setting down his goblet of pumpkin juice and wiping a bit of juice from the side of his mouth that had escaped.

"I can't; the Dursleys didn't sign my permission slip," Harry said broodingly.

"Harry! Thanks for the Murtlap Essence! It really helped! It's so much better now!" one particular Gryffindor who had been in detention with Umbridge said.

"I'm glad it helped," Harry said quietly.

"It did! It really did!" agreed Claire; she was a second-year.

"Good," Harry simply stated.

Giving him another beaming smile, she went further down the bench, sitting with the other second-years.

"Why did she need Murtlap Essence?" Neville asked in confusion.

"Er, Umbridge… she used a Quill that made us write in our own blood," Harry explained showing the almost healed words in his own hand.

Neville paled drastically, looking a little sick; he sincerely hoped he didn't get Detention from her! Fortunately for him, Umbridge and all adult wizards and witches knew Madam Longbottom's fiery temper and connections. Nobody had forgotten Alice and Frank; anyone would do a favour for the old witch for them. She was very connected despite the fact that she didn't work in the Ministry, so Umbridge wouldn't under any circumstances try anything with him.

Umbridge didn't care about him anyway; she had bigger fish to fry. Like, say, Harry Potter... which would be the last thing she ever did.

Neville finally received his answer; Harry was attending the game, sitting well away from everyone else. Neville, of course, sat beside him, joined by one Luna Lovegood a few minutes before the game started. Since it wasn't a Ravenclaw game, she felt she wasn't under any obligation to sit at the Ravenclaw side.

"Hey, Luna!" Neville grinned, happy to see her.

"Hi, Neville, Harry," said Luna, smiling back at them, a dreamy look on her face as she observed the spectators.

"Here come the Gryffindors! Gryffindor Captain Angelina Johnson, followed by Fred and George Weasley! Followed by Katie Bell! And Alicia Spinnet! With two new players on the team: a new Keeper― Ronald Weasley! Aaaaand…the Seeker― Ginny Weasley!" Lee Jordan shouted; he didn't seem to have the same spirit as usual.

"Do you regret not playing?" Neville asked, watching Harry's bored face.

"It was the first thing I was good at, Neville… but I think it was more to do with the flying than playing Quidditch," Harry admitted softly. At the age of eleven, he had been so excited to have been good at something, anything, that he had gone along with everything.

"Here come the Slytherins… Captain Montague, Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy, Warrington, Bletchley, and Pucey," shouted Lee, with even less enthusiasm, if it were possible.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch boomed. "Now, I want a nice clean game," she ordered, and the balls were released up into the air, and with great big swooshes that almost drowned out Madam Hooch's piercing whistle, the game began.

"And it's Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years, but she still won't go out with me..." Jordan said through the microphone.

"JORDAN!" Minerva McGonagall shouted; her lips were pursed, showing her extreme disapproval.

"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest―and she's ducked Warrington, she passed Montague, she's ―ouch― been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe… Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and ― nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverses... passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away..."

"Do you think we have even the slightest chance of winning?" Neville asked, leaning over the barrier, a curious look on his face.

Harry merely shrugged. Everything had changed so much, who would have thought there would be a day he didn't care much for Quidditch?

"...Dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger ―close call, Alicia― and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

"Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing;

Weasley is our King!

Weasley was born in a bin

He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley will make sure we win,

Weasley is our King!"

was yelled from the sea of Green and silver stands of the Slytherin section.

"You'd think he'd know better than to listen, wouldn't you?" Harry mused, watching everything rather rapidly.

"Well that is a new one… doesn't even rhyme, the last part at least," Luna said in agreement.

Neville just smothered his amusement, he really, reeeeeallly liked Luna.

"Alicia passes back to Angelina, come on now, Angelina ― looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat ― SHE SHOOTS ― SHE ... ahhh…. Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, saves the goal, throws the Quaffle to Warrington,"

"He's going to shoot," Harry said; he had been playing long enough to know.

"They're getting louder," Neville said, and Ron was beginning to look as if he was about to regurgitate slugs as in second year again.

"Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range, with just the Keeper ahead, so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team― come on, Ron!" Lee cheered, "Slytherins score!" he said, his voice sulky amid the deafening cheering coming from the Slytherin students. "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin―bad luck, Ron."

Unfortunately for poor Ronald Weasley... the singing was getting even louder!

"I can't watch this," Harry grimaced, turning away; what the hell had the Gryffindor team been reduced to? Even if he had been playing, there was nothing he could have done! Wood would probably have had a heart attack if he saw this!

"Do you want to leave?" shouted Neville over the roaring.

Harry stared back and shook his head; he might as well just watch the rest of it.

"Twenty-nil to Slytherin," shouted Lee; Ron had missed another Quaffle.

"GRYFFINDOR SCORE! Its forty-ten, to Slytherin; come on, Gryffindor!" yelled Lee.

POW!

A Bludger hit Ginny Weasley, causing her to land flat on her back on the Quidditch pitch. She wasn't too hurt, just terribly winded. It was a good job she had been so low down, or she would have been seriously hurt.

It was then Harry saw the Snitch; problem was, Malfoy had seen it too. Instead of sneering, Malfoy just stared at him for a few seconds, eyes level to him, before he zoomed off. Ginny was still hurt and unable to play, as Malfoy without trouble caught the Snitch.

"Malfoy catches the Snitch and ends the game! With one hundred and ninety points, Slytherin wins the game!" shouted Lee glumly, Gryffindors had only managed to score ten points.

The Slytherins surrounded Malfoy, pounding him on the back; they had won! Together the entire team dismounted making their way ―united together― towards the school. The same couldn't be said for the Gryffindors, they dismounted completely disgruntled; Ron, Harry noticed, flew down from the Keeper goals and walked back by himself.


"Let me see your hand," Severus smoothly said, as soon as Harry came into his quarters.

Surprise flittered over Harry's features, before without hesitation he held his hand over. Warm hands took his palm carefully, and inspected it before Severus nodded briefly. "It should go away in the next few days," he said before letting go.

"That's good," Harry said, slipping into his normal seat.

"How are you feeling?" Severus asked.

"Okay; did you see the Decree she put up?" Harry asked.

Severus' lip curled in disgust at the mention of Umbridge; despite the fact she was stuck in the hospital wing, she was still making changes. He would have to do something about that, of course; unfortunately, Poppy would be stuck with her. "Indeed." Thankfully she wasn't targeting his team! She probably would be in for a surprise when she realized Harry wasn't on the team. She sure was missing a lot being stuck in the Hospital, after all.

"I told you she would stop me from playing," Harry simply said.

Severus didn't bother replying, knowing he was right. Summoning Dobby, he requested some food and drink for them.

"Was I really a bad student?" Harry asked out of the blue a few minutes later.

"Meaning what, exactly?" Severus asked, arching an eyebrow in curiosity. Months ago he would have said yes without fail. Of course, a few months ago he had been labouring under a lot of false assumptions. Things had changed, especially between himself and Harry. He wondered where Harry had gotten the notion that he was a bad student. Had Umbridge left the Hospital wing and said something to his son? Fury began bubbling again.

Harry stared at the fire, before speaking "It's just everyone seems surprised… when I answer their questions, I mean," he said.

Severus placed his elbows on his knees; calming down, he joined his hands together, staring at Harry and wondering how to answer that question. "No, you weren't and aren't a bad student. You were capable of more… now that you are demonstrating your full potential as a student, they will be surprised for a short period of time," Severus eventually said. He did indeed have a lot of potential; he had only uncovered that during the summer. The potions Harry had brewed were very good. This coming from a Master of the subject was as good a compliment as any student could receive. Especially considering he didn't normally complement any student unless it was very much deserved. Severus would say that Charms, Defence, and Potions were his strongest subjects.

Harry nodded his head in understanding, a warm glow settling into him. He really did love having someone to talk to.

"Tell me about your fourth year," Severus said, sitting back and drinking his coffee.

If Harry was surprised by the abrupt change in the conversation, he didn't show it. He was used to Severus' asking him these kinds of things. Talking to him about everything, before he had gotten taken away, they had only gotten up to his third year.

"The summer was brilliant," Harry told him, grinning widely and thinking of Dudley with his huge tongue, "when I got to go to the Quidditch World Cup. It didn't last, though; after the match… everyone was just settling down when screaming started up. We ended up getting split up, er, and then the Mark was spelled into the sky. Using my wand!" he added indignantly. "Then they accused me of firing off the Mark."

"Excuse me?" Severus asked in surprise, too shocked even to think about covering it up. Who on this planet would accuse Harry Potter― Gryffindor's golden boy ―of firing the Dark Mark? Even if he was a Slytherin in Gryffindor clothing.

"Yeah, Crouch accused me of firing it; thankfully the others talked him out of it," Harry said. "I didn't even know what it was, or why everyone was panicking so much either."

Severus grimaced, a testament to how clueless Harry had been. Of course he had no doubt who had told him. No doubt that know-it-all Granger girl; there was a difference between a bright witch and a know-it-all. Granger was a big definition of a teacher's pet, and always, ALWAYS liked to think herself superior even to her teachers, given the fact that she constantly talked back to them... to him! She drove him up the wall with her attitude. Lily had been a very bright witch, eager to prove herself, but she hadn't been anything like Granger.

"That's when the visions began, I mean, really began. I saw HIM kill a Muggle, in some musty old house. The weird thing was… whatever he was in needed milk or something… because he had Pettigrew feeding him, nursing him to health. He knew Pettigrew, or Wormtail as He likes to call him, was only there because he was scared and a coward. In a few of the visions there was another man I didn't recognize at the time― Crouch Junior," Harry sighed.

Severus' lip unconsciously curled at the mention of his name and what had happened to him. He truly wondered if the Horcrux was contained; could it be? Or would his son continue to receive these visions? He hoped not… only time would tell.

"When we were going back to Hogwarts, there were remarks about something happening, something coming to Hogwarts. When we were told, I was so glad someone else would be hogging the limelight that year… I thought maybe I'd have a normal year… you know?" he said glumly.

"I can understand that wish, Harry," Severus agreed; he only wished he could give Harry that. If he couldn't, at least he could make it safe for him at last. Umbridge would never harm his son, nor touch a hair on his head. Ever.

"It was brilliant... up until my name came out, then you know what happened… everyone turned against me," Harry grumbled petulantly. "You didn't help either, those comments about the paper!"

Severus remained silent; normally he wouldn't have allowed a student to speak to him like that. Unfortunately though, Harry wasn't just any normal student, and to be perfectly honest, Harry was within his rights to be angry. Too bad he couldn't change things, not now with the Dark Lord back― he was going to have to be extremely cautious. It was a good thing Harry had that map of the school and an invisibility cloak. Otherwise he wouldn't have been able to help him at all while on school grounds.

"Sorry," Harry said, flushing bright red, he couldn't believe he had said something like that to Severus. He was honestly surprised a sarcastic comment hadn't left his teacher's lips.

"Continue," Severus said, brushing it off lightly; his onyx eyes, though, held a slight smidgen of guilt. Severus didn't let it linger too long; what was done was done, and he was doing all he could to rectify past mistakes.

"Everyone turned against me until the Dragon task, even Ron," Harry said, a bitter tone deep in his voice. "It was then I found out about the Polyjuice potion being brewed, while I was trying to figure out the clue to my egg," Harry admitted. "On my map, Crouch was seen roaming about the Potions classroom, of all places. I thought it was, you know… the old Crouch. I didn't realize until the end of the year that I never once saw Mad-eye Moody on the map."

"Hindsight isn't always a good thing, is it?" Severus said quietly.

"I just wish I had realized sooner," Harry admitted bitterly. He had liked Moody, or rather the, er, Death Eater, and it left a foul taste in his mouth just thinking about it.

"Understandable," Severus said. He waited patiently for Harry to continue; it was talks like this that made Harry open up to him. It had made him comfortable around him, confide in him, allowed Harry to rely on an adult. One that actually cared about him, Harry, as a child, not as the Boy-Who-Lived, or as a weapon. He was still extremely pissed off at Dumbledore; he barely spoke two words to the old fool when it wasn't required. He was sure Dumbledore realized something was off, but the old man would never find out what he knew.

"Dobby stole the Gillyweed from your store to help me with the task; I couldn't figure out what to do. I later learned that Dobby had overheard Moody talking about it in the staff room. I have to give Crouch his due, he knew what he was doing," Harry sighed.

Dobby was the only elf that would have risked everything to help his Harry Potter.

"Why did you feel the need to play the savior?" Severus asked ― that had reminded him of James Potter. Saving everyone just to make himself look better in the eyes of the school. Severus was surprised to see Harry flush bright red in embarrassment.

"I took the egg… too seriously; I thought they really would die if I didn't help them within the hour," Harry admitted. He didn't look up, too embarrassed to see the look on Severus' face. He had no doubt what was running through his mind. Stupid idiotic fool or something like that. He really did know Severus Snape far too well.

Severus failed to comment; instead, he shook his head: another preconceived notion was stripped away. Silly idiotic gullible boy― this was all thought in a very affectionate manner as well. He couldn't even insult the boy in his own mind anymore. This was, after all, someone he regarded as his son.

"When no one came for them, I helped them. Nothing much really happened until the third task," said Harry, his voice changing by the end of his statement.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Severus asked softly.

Tears were almost stinging his eyes, and he shook his head "no," he wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

"We will talk about it, Harry," Severus adamantly said, "sooner or later; now how about we go and brew a potion?" He hated seeing Harry emotional like that; Cedric Diggory's death had hit him hard. He wasn't sure why, because as far as he knew, the boys had never crossed paths unless they played Quidditch, or until the Tournament. Harry had to speak about Diggory, though; it was affecting him, and Severus knew talking about it would get it out of his system. Unfortunately, he had gotten too soft, and didn't make Harry speak about it yet.

Harry grinned at him, his mood lightening, and he nodded his head. A potion sounded good to him. He knew Severus would make him talk about Cedric sooner or later. Severus always stayed true to his words.

"Dobby?" Severus called, once Harry was sure to be back at the Gryffindor common room.

"Yes, sir?" asked Dobby, popping into the room.

"Give this to Umbridge tonight," Severus smirked, his onyx eyes glittering dangerously. "This one tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," Dobby said, his eyes glowing eerily similar to his new "Master." Nobody hurt his Harry Potter and got away with it. He was just happy to see someone helping his "Master Harry Potter;" no matter who he was bound to, his allegiance would always be first and foremost to Harry. The fact that his new Master liked his Harry made it much easier for the elf.

He was gone with a silent pop; the potion was placed into her stomach with elvin magic. He also made sure nothing would show up on the Medi-Witch's scans. Oh, yes, she had messed with the wrong boy. The glowing greenish eyes disappeared along with the rest of him, appearing back in the kitchen, no one the wiser.


Edited by the great Jake and Jordre thanks so much for all your effort to turn this into an amazing story :) thanks guys!