Chapter 35

By Saturday, Harry was still wondering what Snape might have discovered about his unusual magic, but he also had other things to occupy his time. It was the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match and Ginny had been drilling them hard on their team strategy now that they were one step closer to the Quidditch cup.

Already dressed in their Quidditch team kit, Harry and Ron took in a nutritious breakfast (under the Captain's watchful eye) with Hermione, before grabbing their brooms from the dorm.

"Merlin, even Wood didn't track what the team ate." Ron groused as they made their way back through the castle, brooms in hand. "Ginny is such a psychopath."

"Oi, that's my girlfriend you're talking about." Harry gave Ron a shove, but still chuckled good-naturedly.

Ron shoved back. "She was my sister before she was your girlfriend."

They chatted about game strategy for a while until they reached the entrance hall where they mixed with students still coming in and out of the Great Hall for breakfast.

"I don't know why Gin is even so worried." Ron was saying, though Harry's mind wandered as he spotted Snape going through the oak doors into the Great Hall. "Ravenclaw aren't even as good as Hufflepuff."

"Yeah," Harry answered distractedly. "Hey, I'll catch you up, alright. I wanna talk to Snape for a sec."

Ron wrinkled his nose at the thought but understood Harry's growing relationship with the man who was now becoming something of a mentor to him.

At Ron's nod, Harry quickly darted through the doors, catching up with the Deputy. "Professor!" Snape stopped and turned at Harry's gentle call.

They both stepped to the side of the hall where they could speak more discreetly. "Mr Potter." Snape greeted in question.

"Morning, Sir." Harry said amicably, marveling at how friendly they had become. "Have you got any theories yet?"

Snape gave him a sympathetic look. "Potter, you will be the first to hear when I do."

"Right, I know. I just," he shrugged. "…Wondered."

Snape looked up and down over Harry's quidditch kit. "I trust that I won't be scraping you off of the quidditch pitch today?"

Harry grinned. "I make no promises."

"Hm." Severus pursed his lips, inwardly amused and pleased that he could now have such relaxed exchanges with the young wizard.

"I guess you won't be supporting Gryffindor then, Sir?" Harry asked, still with his cheeky smile.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Mr Potter." Severus smirked back. "Afterall, it wouldn't be a true victory when Slytherin inevitably win the Quidditch cup if they win against a team as mediocre as Ravenclaw."

"Ha!" Harry laughed. "Fair enough. I'll see you later then, Sir. I'm sure I'll be able to spot you in the crowds wearing a red and gold scarf to show your support."

"Don't push it, Potter." He turned and walked away, hearing Potter's laughter behind him.

Harry left the hall, bounding out of the castle and down the path to catch up with Ron.

Snape had been right, Harry concluded later, up in the air, mid-game; Ravenclaw were mediocre. Ginny and the other chasers were passing the quaffle between them with ease and a good 60% of their goal attempts scored. Ron, meanwhile, was circling his goalposts aimlessly since the Ravenclaw team hadn't managed to get close. Harry wasn't tempted to draw this game out; it was kinder to put them out of their misery.

The Golden Snitch, however, had other ideas, it seemed. Harry had seen neither a glint in the sky nor a fluttering of wings since the game began.

Another 30 minutes passed with Gryffindor scoring a further 60 points and the whole crowd waiting for one of the seekers to catch the snitch. Harry was glad for the clear skies and spring weather in what could have been a rather dull wait were it not for Luna's unique commentary.

"Oh dear, Ravenclaw aren't doing very well today. I think there must be an infestation of Winkleworms in the tower at the moment. They can be quite tricky. Well known to affect balance once they have taken root." Luna rambled on, missing the next goal entirely.

"Miss Lovegood!" McGonagall scolded. "Please concentrate on the match!"

"Oh, sorry Professor." The Ravenclaw said airily. "Another 10 points to Gryffindor. Oh well, they are a very nice team, so I suppose Ravenclaw won't mind too much." Ginny shot another quaffle past the Ravenclaw goalkeeper and through the middle hoop. "Arnold isn't catching many today." Luna commented idly. "He's probably very tired though from kissing Millie Gunther last night behind the tapestry of Wally Wellenbert."

The poor boy in question nearly fell off his broom as his secret was unintentionally outed to the entire school body. McGonagall was having stern words with Luna and Harry was laughing at the scene when something flew into the top of his head.

The sensation was more irritating that painful, brushing through his hair, and before he'd had time to look up, it happened again.

Flapping one arm around his head and turning to see what had caught him, Harry realised suddenly exactly what had hit him: the Golden Snitch.

"Hey!" Harry moaned at the fluttering orb which still hovered nearby. "What's your problem?" He reached out to grab the offending Snitch, but it darted just out of reach. It buzzed away and Harry lost sight of it for a moment until it bumped him on the back of the head again.

"Do you want me to catch you?" Harry asked, glad he was far enough away from any of the other players that they couldn't hear him talking to a Snitch. The ball in question bobbed slowly up and down in what Harry interpreted as a shrug.

Meanwhile Gryffindor had scored another goal and the crowds were rapidly losing interest in the game. "They're getting bored." He told the Snitch. "We might as well give them a show and then end this."

The Snitch seemed to agree, zipping past his ear and then flying off in the opposite direction. Harry flipped his broom over, so he was facing the right way but upside down and flew after his target, corkscrewing as he did to turn the right way up.

The Snitch wasn't covering much distance, but it was weaving and darting so quickly around the air that Harry had to be pretty nifty on his broom to duck and dive after it.

"Oh look, Harry's doing some tricks, that's nice." He heard Luna announce absently, inadvertently alerting all players in the game to Harry's pursuit of the Snitch. The Ravenclaw seeker, a gormless 4th year, who Harry didn't know the name of, suddenly scanned the skies for Harry and, seeing him, set off in his direction. Harry wasn't concerned, by the time the Ravenclaw player could make it to him, he would have already caught the Snitch.

Following the golden ball, Harry was forced to do some sharp turns around the tops of the stadium towers. He heard gasps from the crowds as he made a couple of tight corners with sharp twists on his broom. The Snitch led him into the stands and Harry flew low over the heads of the spectators. As the Snitch weaved into the staff stand, buzzing between the professors, Harry decided it was time to end the game. In less than a second, he had jumped down from his broom, onto the benches below, caught the Snitch in one hand and his broom in the other.

"Oh, Harry's caught the Snitch." Luna observed conversationally, and Madam Hooch declared,

"Gryffindor wins!" To erupting cheers from the crowds.

"Great game, Harry." Charlie clapped him on the back.

McGonagall, who tried to appear a bit more impartial now that she was Headmistress, couldn't hide her wide smile. "Excellent work, Mr Potter."

"Merlin, Minerva, why not just wear your Gryffindor scarf and be done with it?" Harry turned to face the smirking Deputy.

"Happy, Sir?" He said, referring to the Professor's desire for a competitive final.

"Happy I didn't have to scrape you of the grass, yes, but less impressed with your dramatics." He flicked his hand to indicate Harry's flying stunts.

Harry grinned, heart still racing a bit from his exertion. "I had to give them a show, Sir. That might have been the dullest match in history.

"Harry!" Ron called from where he hovered nearby. "Are you coming or what?"

"Yeah, hang on." He jumped on his broom and joined his teammates in a celebratory lap around the stadium before he headed to the changing rooms beneath the stands.

When he left the changing rooms a short-while later, the stands were mostly empty. Harry, planning to head to the owlery first, had told the rest of the team that he would meet them in the Gryffindor common room for celebrations once he had sent his letter.

He had meant to send the letter the day before, but Hedwig had been out hunting when he'd tried. The letter had therefore remained in the pocket of his outdoor cloak and Harry reasoned that he had best send it before he forgot about it entirely. He would ask Hedwig to deliver it to the Grangers, but ultimately it should end up with Dudley Dursley.

As planned, Harry had reached out and made tentative contact with his cousin. Dudley, he discovered, was now at a university, of sorts, doing media studies, or some such course, and had moved out of Number 4 Privet Drive. This had made it marginally easier to contact Dudley, but Harry had decided that it was probably still a good idea to send letters the muggle way.

Harry was thinking about how strange it would be to meet up with Dudley and actually have a civil conversation when he heard voices coming from under the stadium benches. Though he couldn't hear what was being said, there was an aggressiveness to the tone that had Harry reaching instinctively for his wand.

"That's for your dad torturing my mum."

"And that's for him killing my uncle."

"Death Eater scum."

When Harry turned the corner he saw Malfoy with a busted lip, his hair disheveled and his robe torn. He was surrounded by five 7th Years, all representing different houses, and Harry scowled seeing a Gryffindor scarf amongst them. The 7th years had their wands out and were roughing Draco up using a combination of spells and more muggle methods, but Draco didn't appear to have even drawn his wand to defend himself.

Harry didn't hesitate to pull his own wand and had cast a Stupefy on the lot of them before they had even registered his appearance. Malfoy turned around in surprise and saw Harry.

"Are you ok?"

Draco ducked his head, embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks Potter." He muttered and, stepping over a passed out Ravenclaw, headed back up to the castle.

Harry would rather have gone after Malfoy but figured he needed to do something about the idiots he had stunned first. Flicking his wand to shift each body into one line, Harry cast an Incarcerous before bringing them round.

"P-Potter?" They blinked up at him, starstruck and confused.

A year ago, Harry wouldn't have described himself as intimidating, still wouldn't really, but he had learnt during their time on the run and in the time that followed how to make himself heard. In those first weeks after the defeat of Voldemort, there were some at the Ministry who had tried to control him and manipulate him into being the Ministry's poster boy. Kingsley's election had helped, but mostly it was just Harry standing up and telling people where to go that had got them off his back. He had soon developed a presence that told people to think twice before challenging him. Harry didn't particularly like the almost fearful looks ho got from people but in a moment like this it had its advantages.

Harry fixed them with a fierce glare, allowing some of his magic to fill the air around them, something he had practised with Snape as a way to safely release some of his extraneous magic.

"In case this wasn't already understood, let me be clear," Harry began, voice steely. "Every single one of the 8th Years are under my protection. You don't talk about them, you don't touch them, you don't even wave your wand around nearby. That includes Draco Malfoy."

"But, but Harry, his father…"

"I don't care what his father did. I don't care what Malfoy used to do. We don't do vigilante justice at Hogwarts."

With that said and the perpetrators looking suitably fearful, Harry flicked his wand to unbind one of the 7th years, instructing him to untie the others while Harry left to track down Malfoy.

It wasn't until he reached the corridor beyond the Entrance Hall that Harry caught sight of Malfoy, despite his brisk walking up from the Quidditch stands.

"Malfoy!"

The blonde glanced over his shoulder. "Potter."

Harry ran a few steps to catch up with him. "Wait a sec. What was all that back there."

"Don't worry about it, Potter. Not your problem." Malfoy threw back before ducking through a door, presumably expecting Harry to continue down the corridor towards the 8th Year dormitories. Instead, Harry followed the Slytherin into what he knew to be a disused classroom.

Malfoy looked up at him when Harry entered and sighed. Harry could see that his lip had stopped bleeding but was still open and puffy; not having been healed yet. Now he got a good look at him, Harry thought Malfoy might be developing a bit of a black eye as well.

"Merlin, Potter, do you ever let anything go?"

"I'll let it go once you explain what happened." Harry countered.

"What is there to explain?" Draco asked rhetorically. "You heard them. My father tortured and killed their relatives. They see me as a Death Eater, and they acted accordingly."

"Yeah, I wasn't talking about them. I was talking about you."

"Me? I didn't do a thing to them!" Draco exclaimed, becoming increasingly irritated.

"Exactly! You didn't even pull your bloody wand!"

"That's your problem?! That I didn't fight back?" Draco said incredulously.

"Yes!"

"I was a Death Eater, Potter. If I fight back, I'll end up in Azkaban."

"You can't just let people attack you." Harry argued fiercely.

"That's rich coming from you, Potter." Malfoy scoffed back. "You're the one that walked into the Dark Lord's killing curse."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Well neither do you. We can't all be the Gryffindor golden boy."

"You can still defend yourself!"

"No, I can't! If I hurt some precious Ministry kid, the Aurors will be here before you can say Quidditch."

"Not if you're defending yourself!"

"It won't make a fucking difference!"

The young wizards were now shouting and, unbeknownst to them, had drawn the attention of someone passing by the room.

"Go save someone else, Potter, and leave me the fuck alone!"

The door swung open, startling both out of their shouting match as they turned to face the imposing figure in the doorway. No one spoke. Snape stood still, taking in the scene with his arms crossed accusingly. Harry suddenly realised just how it looked: Draco roughed up, the pair of them shouting at each other and both still panting from the ferocity of their row.

Snape, assuming, as Harry had expected, that he was at fault, turned a sharp glare on him. "Explain."

Harry, blood still racing from the argument and a little annoyed at being blamed, regardless of how it might look, snapped back, "Ask him." He jerked his head towards Malfoy.

Snape scowled, his voice dropping to its most dangerous level. "I am asking you."

Harry softened, but he still looked to Malfoy, since it wasn't his injury to report. Draco made eye contact but made no move to speak.

"Now, Potter." The Professor snapped.

"It's not for me to say!"

Snape shifted his glance to Malfoy, who remained silent, and then back to Harry. He waited expectantly.

"It wasn't me." Harry denied. "I'm not the one who hurt him."

Severus narrowed his eyes, assessing the truth he saw in the Gryffindor's eyes. "Draco?" He turned to the blonde.

Malfoy, head still hung low, looked up between the flopped locks of his platinum hair. He jerked his head in a nod. "It wasn't Potter."

Severus lifted and eyebrow. "So despite the fact that I found you shouting and swearing at each other, you both maintain that neither of you has hurt the other."

Each boy nodded.

"And you were arguing about…?"

Potter glared accusingly at Malfoy, who returned the look with equal disdain.

Severus sighed. "Potter, go back to your dormitory, I'm sure you are missing some form of illicit celebration occurring in the Gryffindor common room right now. Mr Malfoy," Draco made eye contact. "My office."

Draco sighed, resigned and Harry, trusting that Snape would handle things was happy to turn and leave.

"Potter." Malfoy's voice stopped him as he was passing Snape out the door. "Thanks."

Harry gave him a genuine smile and shrugged. "Anytime."

A week later and Severus was once again poring over a book which might give him some indication as to what had occurred with Potter's magic. This time he had taken the books from the library and returned to the privacy of his quarters where he could indulge in a glass of scotch while he read.

Severus groaned as he finished another chapter with no definitive answer. He rubbed his temples as he wondered how he could put Harry off for another week. The young Gryffindor was desperate for some kind of explanation and Severus truly wanted to give him one.

They had at least found some ways for Harry to manage his own magic. The young saviour was spending more time with Severus exploring his unusual powers than his fortnightly meetings had mandated, arranging to meet in the Room of Requirement at least twice a week. Severus had certainly put Potter's magic to the test, experimenting with its limits. And Potter hadn't disappointed; far exceeding his expectations at every turn. The boy was more powerful, and more talented than Severus had ever imagined. It wasn't just that the boy's magic was strong, but he was able to pick up new spells instinctually, particularly defensive spells.

When they weren't examining Harry's magic, they would talk; mostly enforced by Snape who would insist that Harry take time to rest after so much magical exertion. With his secrets out, Harry was much more willing to open up and speak honestly with the Professor, though Severus was still aware of how many layers there were to the boy-hero.

Severus didn't know how he could have been so blind to the boy before. Perhaps through the strain of war, of spying on the Dark Lord and serving Dumbledore, or because he was still drowning in grief; either way he had missed Harry completely. He had missed his humility and his humour. He had missed his leadership skills and strategic mindset. He had missed the abuse.

If someone had told Severus two years ago that he and Potter would be spending this much time together, voluntarily, and actually getting on, he would have had them swiftly committed to St Mungo's. Even now, when he thought about it, it surprised Severus how much he enjoyed spending time with the lad. He was quick-witted and sarcastic in a way that Severus appreciated, even when Potter was being sarcastic with him.

The professor reached for another book and sighed. The truth was that there were recorded examples of the kinds of symptoms Harry was experiencing, the sensing of other wizards' magic, the affinity with the wards, but Severus knew it wasn't what Potter would want to hear. They weren't the victims of a curse or bizarre magical occurrence; they were simply exceptionally powerful wizards. It wasn't something that could be fixed, it was just who he was; but Harry didn't want to be different. Severus wished he could give him the answer he wanted. He wanted to protect him from all the stares he received; to protect him from the Ministry arseholes who wanted to manipulate him. He wanted to go back in time and fucking demolish his relatives.

He couldn't go back in time and Harry was an adult now. Severus was well aware that he could stand up to any pureblood in the Wizengamot and Merlin knew he could hold his own against a Death Eater. But for whatever Harry did need, Severus would be there.