Okaaaay, well first of all, sorry this is so late in coming out. But there are about 5 chapters here, which kinda makes up for it? I don't know where this is going, I feel totally uninspired, and was thinking about scrapping it but for all the lovely reviews I've had. So basically I'll try and write more, but don't promise. Hope you enjoy!

"Harry Potter" said Dumbledore slowly, regarding Harry over the top of his half-moon glasses. "I hear that you and Filius had an altercation?"

"No sir" said Harry steadily, wishing fervently that Severus was there. "There was no argument. I just did a spell a little too strongly."

Dumbledore gazed piercingly at Harry before his face softened.

"Do you feel that lessons are moving too slowly then?"

Uncertainly, Harry nodded, and Dumbledore waved him to continue.

"Well, it seems like Professor Flitwick is holding me back. . .I can do all the charms fine, but he keeps making me re-do them even when they're fine."

Dumbledore twinkled at the ambitious young man.

"Well, I'm sure I will have a word with him, Harry. It will all work out, don't you worry."

Harry nodded slightly cynically, and Dumbledore looked at him.

"If there's anything you need, Harry. . .feel free to come and see me. I am here to help."

Harry nodded and left.

**************************************************

As he stood outside the door, catching his breath, a wave of something rushed over him, and his knees buckled. Suddenly breathing seemed like a really tall order. Gods, he was going to die. He couldn't breath; his muscles spasmed and he choked.

And it relaxed. Tentatively he opened an eye, and found himself staring at concrete.

"What the. . .?"

He looked around, but the corridor was deserted. And then another wave of it eclipsed his nose and mouth, but he was all alone; and out of the trembling and sickness, came an overwhelming sense of not wanting to be here. All the bad thoughts and memories he had ever had came rushing back, and he felt as though they were eating away at him from the inside. He needed punishing. He was so bad, so naughty. That's what Vernon had said.

(Freak!)

Blood. Harry looked dazedly at the red stuff marking the wall where he had slammed his head into it. Blood. The essence of life. he was made up of it. he was real. The pain helped him to focus slightly, although he still felt like there was a gap between him and the rest of the world, rather like trying to move underwater. He was still alive, just in a way detached from the universe. Blood. Pain. He felt a small smile come over his face.

Jerked out of his thoughts by a hand, he almost cried out in surprise.

"Harry?"

It was Severus. Just Severus. Harry meant to say 'Yes?' or 'hello' or something sensible. But what comes out of your mouth when you are tense is rarely if ever sensible, and so Harry blurted out possibly the most stupid thing he could have done.

"Blood."

Severus gasped and gripped hold of Harry's wrists.

"What have you done?"

Harry blinked at him in confusion, and Severus stared at the clear wrists.

"You said blood" he enunciated clearly. "What blood?"

Harry gestured to his head, stunned into silence by the grief-stricken expression that had come over Severus' face.

"Go to the infirmary then" replied the man curtly, and swept off, heart racing. Gods, he had thought. . .the look on Harry's face. . .blood. . .

****************************************************

Harry sat silently as Pomfrey bustled around, flicking her wand at different potions.

"What happened?"

"I stumbled down the stairs" he said, surprised at how easily the lies tumbled out of his mouth. "I hit my head on the wall at the bottom."

Well, it was partly the truth, he thought guiltily as Pomfrey bandaged his head. It was just. . .the blood had felt so good. . .had served as proof of his continued existence.

"Well, that's sorted out then. And I don't want to see you in here for at least two weeks, alright?"

Harry nodded as she waved an admonishing finger, and gratefully fled to the dormitories.

After he had quickly dressed, he skipped down the stairs three at a time as he hastened to reach herbology on time. He didn't, and Professor Sprout gave him a cold look.

"However you may wish to treat other members of the staff, Potter, I demand your respect and attention, is that understood?"

Harry nodded, casting his eyes down, and wondered what had happened; where everything had gone so wrong. Why all the teachers in the corridors moved away from him; why Flitwick had been so upset. Why none of the other students met his eyes.

He made his way through Herbology quickly and as accurately as he could, being as careful as possible not to make any mistakes or show off any power. Draco was the only one who would talk to him; the rest of the class clamoured for the furthest benches, and tried not to look at him. If they did, it was only a furtive glance here and there, quickly retracted at any sign of the tousle-headed boy turning.

It shouldn't have stung so much; Harry was used to rejection. He had never been able to make any friends in the Muggle world because they were all too scared of Dudley. And quite rightly too. The fat boy was terrifying.

Hang on.

Why would DUDLEY be terrifying? It was Vernon who hurt him. Or Petunia. As quickly as it had come, the flash of foreboding vanished, and Harry shook his head slightly.

**************************************************************

He tried to apologise to Professor Flitwick. The man accepted his apology, but the cold look remained on his face still, and if anything he held Harry back more than some of the other students. He just didn't understand. But there was one thing he could do. . .

***************************************************************

Lucius Malfoy took a sip of iced tea and eyed the unknown owl suspiciously. He had enough enemies for him to be wary of anything that flew through the gates of Malfoy Manor unannounced. However when the owl drew near he could see the Hogwarts seal on it. The letter was swiftly deposited into his hand, and the owl flew into the Owlery, sensibly not expecting a treat from the regal-looking man. Lucius regarded the letter curiously, and slid an ornate letter-knife underneath the seal. A childish scrawl peered out from the yellowed parchment, and he began to read.

'Dear Lucius,

I am very sorry to bother you with something so trivial, as I know you must have a lot on your mind. However I have a problem that I cannot approach any Hogwarts staff about. I got angry in a charms class and levitated all of the feathers in the classroom onto the ceiling. Professor Flitwick was furious and took me to the Headmaster. Now all of the teachers hate me and I don't know why. Dumbledore won't say. Do you have any idea? Have I done something terribly wrong?

Again, I am sorry to bother you with something so inconsequential, but I am very worried.

Yours Faithfully,

Harry Potter'

Lucius stroked his smooth chin thoughtfully.

"Dobby!" he called. With a pop, a small creature with massive eyes and ears appeared.

"Yes sir? What can Dobby get for master Lucius?"

"A brush."

Moments later, Dobby re-appeared carrying a silver tray with a ivory-backed horse-hair brush on it. Lucius began to run the brush in long strokes down his hair, smoothing out any slight tangles in the blond mane.

"And my writing equipment" he said, placing the brush back on the platter. With a small bow, Dobby popped out of the room and reappeared with a selection of quills, papers and seals. When he had selected a silver-tipped quill and a bottle of black ink, Lucius gestured for Dobby to leave the stamps and one sheet of parchment on the table before dismissing him.

'Dear Harry,

It is a pleasure to hear from you. I do believe I can explain this phenomenon, but there is one condition, and I trust that you are a boy of your word. Draco is not to know.

You will, of course, know of Lord Voldemort. The Dark Wizard who killed your parents. You may not know that he went to Hogwarts, and indeed seemed like a very nice young man. His name was Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle. I'm sure you can guess where his later name came from.

The reason people are so upset by this is the similarity between you. Both orphaned at a young age; both bitter with your guardians. Both in Slytherin. Of course, this has already been enough to get people worried. But your display of power is not dissimilar to something that Tom did before leaving, except on a smaller scale. He had an argument with Dumbledore himself, and hexed the old man. This was no laughing matter, although not seriously dangerous. You see, Albus Dumbledore is and was a most powerful wizard. Perhaps moreso than Voldemort, now. Who knows?

Tom's spell was designed to show off; to challenge. A threatening gesture. It is understandable that Flitwick and indeed the rest of the teachers were alarmed. To your generation, it is a different matter. You could not imagine the bitterness of the battle; the losses on both sides, before Lord Voldemort fell. The magical world is sworn to never let this happen again.

Do not blame yourself, Harry. You were not to know. But in the future, perhaps keep your power to yourself, if only to keep your enemies ignorant.

Best Wishes,

Lucius Malfoy.'

He waved his wand at a block of wax.

"Thermo"

It melted, and he scooped a little up, pressing it down on the rolled-up parchment, and then stamped down the Malfoy seal, a crest with a serpent's head on it.

"Frigo" he snapped, and the wax instantly hardened. As an afterthought;

"Secutor Harry Potter"

Looking at the parchment for a moment longer, he snapped his fingers and the owl came flying back. He fastened the parchment to it's leg, and, uncertain of whether he was making the right choice, sent it away with an expansive sweep of his hand.

And he brooded.

************************************************************

Draco sat at the window, looking broodingly out onto the Quidditch Pitch. Well, brooding wasn't really the word. Jealously might have been more apt. Harry had taken his place on the team. He just knew that his father would be annoyed. He had been so proud of himself; becoming one of the youngest players to become a seeker. . .and that stupid Gryffindor had not only made him ill, but had given Harry the chance to shine. It just wasn't fair.

As he watched, Harry swooped above his team-mates and caught the snitch, to applause from them all. As the watery sunlight glinted off Harry's white teeth and the golden snitch, Draco turned away, unable to bear it.