A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out everyone. I ended up taking a spontaneous road trip with my family to go visit my sister and niece in South Carolina for a few days, and so I was unable to get any writing done during that time. But I'm back home now, and Chapter 20 is finally done!

Enjoy!

There were only a handful of students and teachers already present in the Great Hall when Harry came down to breakfast on Friday morning. And after a quick glance around the room, he wasted no time in sliding into a seat at the end of the Gryffindor table, and pulling a bowl of eggs closer to his plate. He was just thankful that he would have at least a few peaceful minutes to himself.

He had hardly gotten any sleep at all the previous night. He had tossed and turned for hours, battling against what he thought must have been some pretty nasty nightmares. It was hard to recall very many of the details, though, once he was startled awake. But he was pretty sure there had been hissing at some point. Lots and lots of hissing that had filled his ears and his head and his mind until that sound had been all that was left in the world...

But Harry couldn't remember anything else.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted then, when he caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he thought it might be Ron or one of his brothers walking into the Hall. But upon turning his head, he realized that it was actually the youngest Weasley, Ginny. And she didn't spare Harry even a glance as she quickly walked past where he was sitting to take a seat near the other end of the table.

Harry frowned as he watched the girl open a book and begin scribbling almost frantically inside of it. Somehow, he got the impression that she hadn't slept very well either last night. She was probably homesick, or stressing out over her first year classes. Either way, he would have to make sure to tell Ron or his brothers to check up on her later. They should be able to help her adjust to her new school environment. It was one of the many advantages Harry imagined must come from having some older siblings.

He turned back to his breakfast a minute later, and used his fork to push the small pile of scrambled eggs around on his plate. He really wasn't all that hungry now that he thought about it. He let out a sigh then, and stood up from the table, making the quick decision to just go to the library again to continue his research project.

And then a high-pitched giggle sounded throughout the hall, and Harry recognized it almost immediately. It belonged to one of the Slytherin second-years who had been laughing along with Malfoy just seconds before Harry had jabbed a wand in the blond boy's face.

Turning towards the source of the noise, he first noticed Malfoy sitting at the Slytherin table, several books and scrolls of parchment laid out before him. And standing behind him was none other than Pansy Parkinson, who was still laughing loudly and drawing quite a bit of attention to herself and Malfoy.

Harry quickly noted with a touch of amusement that the blond didn't seem to be too happy about this. He had a scowl plastered across his face, anyway, that suggested his possible annoyance with the second year girl.

"Well, I'll let you finish your homework, Draco," Pansy finally said as her laughter eventually died down. "See you in class?"

Malfoy grunted in response, but did not look up as the girl began walking away. Of course that was when Pansy noticed that Harry was standing there, watching, and her face suddenly broke out into a malicious grin.

"Hey, Potter!" she called out, and Harry had to wonder why he hadn't just left when he had the chance.

"I need to send a letter home to my parents," the girl continued, "Do you think I might be able to borrow your owl?"

Harry could feel his face heating up as both of his hands balled up into fists. The girl let out another quick laugh then before turning away and practically skipping out of the Hall, without waiting for any kind of response.

Not wanting to see Malfoy's reaction, Harry turned back towards the Gryffindor table and scooped up his schoolbag. He would have left then. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the Great Hall as possible.

But of course he had to glance over at the staff table. And there was Snape, gazing back at him with those penetrating eyes. And McGonagall, who was sitting directly next to him, was looking too.

Harry sighed. He knew what he had to do. And if he didn't do it now, he knew that Snape would make him do it eventually. And then the circumstances may not be as favorable as they were now, when Malfoy was all alone, with none of his friends around to hear.

Finally making up his mind, Harry strode over to the Slytherin table and glared angrily down at Malfoy, who was currently staring up at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm sorry I raised my wand against you. It was wrong, and irresponsible, and I shouldn't have done it. I was just upset," Harry gritted out through clenched teeth.

"I think you're still upset," Draco drawled, eyebrows raised.

But Harry didn't respond. He was done speaking with the other boy.

And so without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the Hall.

Anger continued to course through Harry as he climbed the grand staircase and headed off towards the library. He couldn't believe that she had laughed. She had actually laughed about Hedwig being poisoned, and there had been absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Harry turned onto a narrow side corridor and leaned against the wall for a moment as he attempted to calm down, but it was proving to be rather difficult. His mind kept running through what had just happened, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe Hermione had been right, after all.

What if it had been Pansy Parkinson who had hurt Hedwig?

Frustrated, Harry turned then and did the only thing that he could think to do in that moment.

He threw a fist at the stone wall.

And his knuckles exploded in pain.

Hissing and biting down hard on his lip, Harry immediately cradled the injured hand to his chest and sucked in a deep breath.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he whispered through clenched teeth. He closed his eyes then, and leaned his forehead against the wall.

A minute or two passed, and Harry remained completely still, listening to the sounds of the castle as his hand continued to throb in pain.

"What are you doing, Potter?" a harsh voice suddenly sounded from behind him.

Startled, Harry jumped away from the wall and stared up at the potions professor with wide eyes. Where had he come from? Was the man following him now?

"Nothing, sir," the boy's response finally came.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he glared down at him, and Harry realized just a second too late that he was still holding his hand tight against his chest.

"Hold out your hand, Potter. Now."

Harry hesitated for a moment, but then reluctantly complied, knowing it would be useless to argue against the dungeon bat.

Snape grabbed the boy's wrist and quickly inspected his fingers. Harry looked away, his face heating up with embarrassment at the situation.

The professor looked from the bruised knuckles to the stone wall behind Harry, and almost immediately made the connection.

"Of all the stupid, idiotic things..." he growled in disbelief.

Harry just continued to stare off to the side, his heart racing in his chest.

"Can you move your fingers?" the man demanded.

Harry nodded and attempted to pull away, but Snape refused to relinquish his hold.

"Show me that you can, Mr. Potter. Now. I do not have all day."

Harry suppressed a sigh, and obediently began to move each of the fingers on his injured hand in turn, wincing at the ache and the pain in his knuckles.

Finally, Snape released his hand and Harry took a couple steps away from the man.

"Follow me, Mr. Potter," Snape said then in his commanding tone.

And Harry had little choice but to obey.

"Sir?"

"What, Potter?" Snape whirled around and glared down at Harry just as the two of them reached the professor's office door.

Harry swallowed and looked down at the floor before eventually asking his question.

"What are we doing, sir?" Harry's voice trembled with nerves. "Shouldn't I go see Madam Pomfrey about my hand?"

"And waste even more of my time than you already have?" Snape demanded.

Harry instinctively hunched his shoulders, and took a step back. But he did not look up or respond.

"I will tend to your hand myself, Mr. Potter. It will save me the time of having to track you down again."

Harry frowned in confusion, peeking up at the professor through his fringe. "Sir?"

Snape rolled his eyes and reached for the door. "I wanted to give you an update on your familiar, Mr. Potter."

"Hedwig?" Harry asked, immediately perking up. "Is she alright? Is she still sick? What—?"

Snape just sighed and flung the door open.

Without waiting for an invitation then, Harry hurried into the room and within seconds, his eyes landed on the snowy white owl, resting on a perch near Snape's desk.

"Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed happily, rushing over to her side.

The owl returned the enthusiastic greeting with a small hoot of her own, before leaning forward to give the boy an affectionate nip to the fingers of his uninjured hand.

Harry beamed and began to stroke the bird's feathers as he continued to talk excitedly.

"Oh, I've missed you, girl. I was so worried! You scared me half to death—"

"Calm yourself, Mr. Potter. And sit down," the potions professor sounded extremely irritated. "I need to look at your hand, and your owl still needs to rest."

Harry frowned as he looked over towards his teacher. "She will be okay, won't she, sir?"

Snape scowled as he grabbed Harry's shoulder and guided him over to the chair in front of his desk, pushing him down into it. "She will make a full recovery, Mr. Potter. But she should not fly very long distances for at least another week, and she will need plenty of rest and quiet."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, immediately subdued.

Snape jerked his head in approval and then thrust a small vial into the boy's hand.

Harry brought the potion up to eye-level and glared at it dubiously.

"Drink it, Potter," Snape snapped. "It won't kill you."

"But it'll taste bad," Harry argued, uncorking the tiny bottle.

"It's a pain reliever," Snape said impatiently. "Drink it and I'll mend your fingers."

With a grimace, Harry swallowed the potion down in one gulp. "Yuck!" he commented with a cough.

"You have no one to blame but yourself," Snape said unsympathetically, taking the empty bottle from Harry and setting it down on his desk. Then he took the boy's hand carefully in his own, and once again examined the damage.

"Of all the foolish, ridiculous, Gryffindor things to do, Potter..." Snape grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief as he pulled his wand out from within the folds of his robes. "Why on earth would you punch a wall?"

Harry looked down at his lap and shrugged. "I was angry," he mumbled.

"I had surmised that much information on my own, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled. "Now look at me and tell me exactly what it was that made you so upset."

Harry sighed as he raised his eyes to the professor's. Why did Snape always insist that he look at him when he spoke? That was the exact opposite of what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always wanted. They hated when Harry made eye contact with them.

"I don't know," Harry whispered.

Snape raised his eyebrows. "Really? I would have thought it may have something to do with what transpired in the Great Hall at breakfast."

A sharp sting spread throughout Harry's bruised knuckles as Snape waved his wand over them, causing the boy to let out a hiss of pain.

"It would have been far worse without the pain reliever," Snape commented.

Harry nodded, as the sting slowly faded away. "She made a joke about Hedwig," he finally managed to say. Not that you care, he added silently to himself.

"You mean Miss Parkinson, I presume?" the man asked, having obviously watched the whole encounter that morning from the staff table.

Harry nodded, turning to face his owl. "I just got angry."

"You need to learn to control that temper of yours," Snape said, his tone severe. "It'll only get you into trouble later on."

"I didn't know what else to do," Harry defended himself weakly. "I didn't really think about it. I just...did it."

"And therein lies the problem, Mr. Potter. You never think before you act. You just charge into any situation blindly without any thought at all for the consequences!"

Harry pulled his hand away from the professor's grip and stood up. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture just now.

"I should probably get going now, sir," he quickly changed the subject, once again stroking Hedwig's feathers. "Classes will be starting soon."

Snape sighed as he regarded the boy carefully for a few seconds. "The bruising on your knuckles should disappear by tomorrow. Does your hand hurt at all?"

Harry shook his head in the negative. "No, sir."

The man continued to stare down at him for another long moment before finally speaking again.

"Do not be late for your detention tonight, Mr. Potter. We will be continuing this discussion at that time. And also be sure to bring your potions textbook with you, as well."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, the note of worry clear in his voice. What else was there to talk about? And why would he need to bring along his potions textbook? That didn't sound good.

Although anything had to be better than detention with Filch, the boy thought a second later, remembering the previous evening's events.

Snape nodded his dismissal then, and Harry hurried over to the exit.

"She will be okay, right?" Harry suddenly turned back to ask, needing the reassurance as he looked over at Hedwig one last time.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," came the exasperated response. "Your owl will be just fine."

A smile spread across Harry's face then. Another one of those big, lopsided grins that reminded Severus so much of Lily.

"Thank you for saving her, sir," the boy suddenly blurted out, and from the gratitude in his voice, there could be no doubt that the child was sincere in his words.

But before the surprised potions master could even think of formulating a response, Harry was fleeing the classroom, and Severus was left to just shake his head in wonder at what he had just heard.

Because never in a million years would he ever have expected to hear a "thank you" come out of the mouth of the son of James Potter.

But what about the son of Lily Evans? the voice in his head suddenly asked.

Severus scowled and once again pushed that voice to the back of his mind, before turning back to his desk to gather together all of the paperwork he would need for the day's classes ahead.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'll work on getting the next chapter out soon :)

-Ailee17