WARNING: HEAVY AND SEVERAL MENTIONS OF ABUSE AND RAPE THROUGHOUT THE CHAPTER! WARNING!

Chapter 19
Loss of interest, gain of insight

Sirius' POV

Harry has woken minutes ago and Poppy has closed the curtains so she could do a Full Physical on him where she would not only check him for Glamours, but would also check his magical strengths, weaknesses and his entire body for what can immediately be healed and what will take time and effort to heal.
Minutes upon minutes pass and I lean against one of the trophy cases, looking intently at the bed and hoping my baby boy to be alright. Finally, after more than 30 minutes of waiting, where I leaned against the case, transformed and chased my tail and took a nap, Poppy opens the curtains and walks out, sweat and tears visible on her face.
I walk over, transforming back, with a worried look on my face as I see the tears and she says: "He's been glamouring injuries since he was four years old. I had to put him in a magical sleep if only to make sure he won't further harm himself. Please, fetch Severus and tell him I need his top Potion makers right now."

I nod, terrified of my son having been injured for more than a decade and run out of the room, quickly informing said man and he nods, stands up and says: "All those with a 9 or higher in their third, fourth and fifth year grades and all those with an Outstanding in their O.W.L.s summon your cauldrons and ingredients at once and follow me."
The students do as asked immediately, over 33 students summoning their equipment and we all run back into the antechamber, where Severus calls for a House Elf and tells her to fetch all of his Healing balms and drinks and to get at least one example of all his ingredients, along with his potions kit, the House Elf quickly performing the task.

The students start working on healing balms and drinks they don't see the Potions Master to have and then Severus asks the question I have wanted to ask the entire time: "What are your results, Poppy?" And the woman sighs, which makes the students look at her and makes Snape and me share a worried look as she answers:

"He has several broken and barely amendable bones in his arms and neck, a few scars on his heart and lungs from when the bones scraped them, his left leg is severely broken at several points – it's a bloody miracle he can still walk with it – and his skull has several fractures and a severe burn at the location of his scar. And that's just his skeleton."
I already look worried and Snape's pale complexion whitens even further, darkening the color of his black hair. She then goes on and says: "His magic is so badly suppressed it's almost depleted and his heart is unfortunately badly damaged, causing him to either have a really quick heart beat or one a person has when he sleeps."

Severus nods, while I deeply worry for my son's magic – and with that for his life – and Poppy goes on while obviously wanting not to and says: "There are several blocks placed on his magic, but he seems to have placed those on by himself so for that I can only advice therapy with someone he truly trusts. And then there's his mind."
Severus and I look at each other and I ask: "What about it?" While fearing for the mental illnesses Lily told me about when she explained Muggle surgery to me. Poppy sighs and says: "He's not just holding back on his magic. I checked the usage of his brain and he seems almost incapable of using some parts of his mind.
There are also a few neck joints of which parts have been embedded into his brain and throat and there are even parts of his skull, where I healed the fractures, where parts of those fractures have embedded themselves into his brain, causing minor brain bleedings. All in all, because of the damage done to his brain, it's a miracle he's alive, let alone sane."

Now tears are running down my eyes and while I want nothing more than to call for Remus and hide in his arms, do I ask: "Any – anything –." I take a deep breath to calm myself and ask: "Anything else?" The woman nods and now Snape grabs my arm in comfort. I shoot him a grateful look and he nods in understanding as Poppy says:
"His organs. His stomach has shrunken in truly a horrible fashion. It has the capacity of a 7 year old and I have already deducted that this is one of the reasons he has growing issues. His colon is badly shrunk, almost restricting his small intestine and he has a severe appendix inflammation. And finally are there germs stuck to the inner walls of his kidneys."

Now I'm really crying and think: "How could have survived with all that? All that? My poor baby. My little boy. How is it that my son is still alive and kicking with all that? His whole body is either broken, bleeding or badly poisoned. How can he still be alive?" Then Snape asks the question I keep thinking and Poppy answers:
"As miraculous and incredible as it sounds, does it seem that his Glamours have been causing some kind of medical process on all the damage done to his body, thus keeping the damage to a minimum and making him capable to handle it all. All in all, even with all the medical help he's had over the years, it's his magic that saved him."
The man nods and says: "You've heard the matron and know what to make. Get to work and don't give anything to Potter until I've examined it myself, understood?" The students nod and everyone goes to work, while I sit next to a sleeping Harry. Poppy lies a hand on my body and whispers: "Sirius, I'm sorry, but there's more."

I look at her, barely capable of knowing what else could be wrong with my baby and after she sees that I have gathered myself together, reminding myself that I faced worse than this, does she say: "All I just told you concerns things that are under his skin. His skin is also badly damaged and parts of it has cell parts that are unable to heal.
He has some terrible scars on his body and most do correspond with what we've read so far. He also asked me if I could cast a damage checking spell on his face with you holding him. Said it would be important for you to know this."

I nod and the nurse wakes my poor baby boy. He slowly blinks his eyes open and then hisses, probably feeling the pain of everything all over his body burning. I softly stroke his hair to comfort him and when he seems used to the pain, he nods at the woman, who waves her wand over his face – while he grips my hand in a death-grip.
I look from the death-grip on my hand, almost blocking off my own blood flow, to my baby only to see tears of humiliation fall down his face, only seconds before Poppy gasps in pure shock. Everyone looks at her, but she closes the curtains and while I wonder what else could shock her so severely, do I ask: "What were the results?"
The woman looks at me shocked and hurt and with a voice betraying her pain, she says: "The skin on his cheeks is bruised badly, only the skin tan hides the bruises, but the lower layer is badly hurt. His eyes are badly damaged and if he keeps wearing these glasses he'll eventually go blind. But that's not the worst. Sirius, he was – mouth-raped."

Shock, pure shock, goes through my body and I look at my son, who grips onto me and cries his eyes out, his hold on me obviously begging me for comfort and not to push him away. Believing the thought alone to be ridiculous, I pull him into my body and whisper: "My poor baby. My little boy. Mummy's here, loveling, mummy's here."
And the poor boy sniffs: "It hurt so much, Siri. He was there, the night before I left to the Burrow, and he whipped me and burned the whip marks and all the while he had me tied to the bed and then – then he –." But then his voice stocks and I whisper: "It won't happen, darling. It won't. Mummy's here and he and daddy will fight for you. We will, son, we will."
Harry keeps crying and Poppy leaves the two of us, whether to give us privacy or to inform Snape of her new discoveries I don't know or care as I just lean against the headboard with my baby holding onto my body and softly rocking him, do I hum him a song that Lily always used when she tried to get him to sleep.

It takes another 4 minutes for Harry to continue crying and finally when he has cried his tears away is the boy softly sleeping with his side under my arm and his head on my shoulder. I use my wand to get the headboard to feel a little more comfortable and after another ten minutes a few students start opening the curtains to feed Harry potions.
Not wanting for them to wake Harry up after such an emotional chapter and this revelation, do I slightly, softly raise Harry's head and help the students feed him small amounts of the potions they have made and Snape supervises everything, writing down a schedule for me for when Harry has to take what potion and how much.
All of the students look at Harry worried and some, whose potions probably prove how badly Harry needs help, look at him as if they wonder the same thing I keep thinking about: how on earth is he still alive? But they just do as they're asked, help me with getting Harry the potions and then leave back to the Great Hall.

Finally my baby has taken 14 different potions and all are mostly for his organs and broken bones and he has even taken three new versions of Skele-grow potion for the bones in his left leg, of which Poppy just vanished the bones and let the Skele-grow regrow them all over again as she said that was the best way to heal them.
I know this will be a painful experience for my little boy, not to mention that it will be great shock to his friends when they hear about all of this and thus am glad he seems to be sleeping so deeply as even the ingestion of all those Potions and all those footsteps walking back and forward hasn't woken him from his slumber.

I then decide to see just how bad the outer physical damage is on my little boy, if only so I can know personally where it is – physically – that I have to help him heal and softly, being careful not to wake him drop him back on the bed, before firmly closing the curtains and vanishing his cloths, gasping when I see his naked form.

His shoulders are severely burned together with small burn marks visible just above his wrists. There are signs of cigarette burns all over his shoulder blades and on his front and back are vanishing whip and belt marks visible. And finally, obviously done with a lit cigarette, is there a small line of the word freak written around his neck.
I shake my head and think: "No, it can't be. That man. How could he do this? What has my baby ever done to him? What on earth caused him to think this was right?" But then I look more closely and to my shock cutting wounds are visible on his wrists and over his chest, indicating someone cut him – or that he cut himself.
Now my fighter's spirit leaves me and I collapse next to the bed, lying my head in my crossed arms and crying, while thinking: "No, it can't be. That can't be it. That can't have happened to him. He couldn't have done that. He wouldn't." But then a line from the second chapter comes back up. Had it not been for Erica, I –.

My eyes widen and I think: "He thought that when he remembered a time he was just six. Did he really try to kill himself at age six? What on earth could that man have done that would make my little Harry want to commit suicide at age six?" But then, just when the 1st terrible scenario runs through my mind, does a soft moan get my attention.
Harry again wakes and when he sees me and my tear-stained face, he asks: "Siri?" But I grab his face and softly kiss his forehead, before pulling him in another hug and whispering: "I'm here, son. Mummy's here. I'll protect you. I love you, Harry. You're my baby, my son." The boy smiles and hugs me back, but then he asks:

"Mummy?" And I say: "Harry, wizards can get pregnant and when they do, their magic makes them form a close bond with their unborn children. That's why, when two wizards get a child, whether through adoption or blood birth, one of them is always called the mother. And the Omega of a pack is also known as the Mother of the pack."
I then start to softly stroke his hair, lying my body against his and pulling the blanket over us and say: "I'm the Omega and Remus werewolf-adopted you, so in every aspect of life am I now you're mother. And I love you just like any mother would love his or her son." And a strong hug is my answer to these words.

I smile at my baby and then Remus sticks his head through the curtains and asks: "Everything alright here? The students – and Narcissa most of all – are getting worried." Harry wants to open his mouth, but I interrupt him and say: "Things aren't the best, Remus, and we're really going to need our Alpha, but we're healing. We're healing."
The man smiles and nods and then Poppy opens the curtains and I quickly undo the vanishing charm on my son as she says: "Mr. Potter, I vanished all bones in your left leg, seeing how badly that's been damaged. You're on quite the Skele-grow diet currently, but with your bones gone, will you have to either be carried or take this wheelchair."

And she shows a wheelchair that makes my eyes widen as it has support parts for the neck, arms, lower legs and feet and even has a few levers to adapt the height and other forms of support of the chair, such as the height of the neck support and how far the feet are away from the wheelchair, which also has two small and two larger wheels.

Harry nods and says: "I don't want to bother people, I'll take the wheelchair. Can it take me up stairs?" The woman nods and says: "This wheelchair works completely on magic, so this control makes you go forward, backwards and to the sides and if you pull it up the wheelchair will activate its own Levitation charm."
My son nods and I gently, carefully help him into the wheelchair. He quickly grabs the handle and while we first let him get used to using the control and rolling the vehicle around the room, do we then help him leave the antechamber, everyone looking deeply shocked when they see Harry Potter coming to them in a wheelchair.
Viktor quickly vanishes a part of the bench next to him and Harry happily rides the wheelchair to perfectly fit the open spot, completely ignoring how silently shocked everyone gazes at him, while Remus and I sit on both his sides and Poppy goes back to her seat at the Head Table. I then asks: "Harry, why – why the wheelchair?"
And I answer: "His left leg. Poppy called it a miracle he can still walk with and stand on it with the many breaks and fractures it had, so she vanished the bones and now he has to stay in the wheelchair and stay on a Skele-grow diet until the bones are regrown." The girl and many others around us gasp and then Harry asks:

"So, shall we read on?" Everyone looks as if he's lost his mind, while I know that the boy just wants to get over his recent revelation and he says: "I prefer not to think of my injuries and the less I think of it, the quicker I can heal. I also don't want to feel sorry for myself for going through all I had, so I would like it if we could just read on."
Many students around us now look awed and then Harry turns to me and smiles widely as he says: "And I really like the thought of you as my mum, Sirius. I really do." I smile back and the boy turns to Remus and says: "And I know you'll make a great dad for me, Remus. Thanks for adopting me." The man kisses his forehead and says:
"No problem, cub. I did it with love." And he then embraces his son, me soon joining in and many students around us smiling widely, while Narcissa explains the whole mother-father concept to Ron and I, the girl greatly shocked and intrigued with the bond growing between a male carrier and an unborn infant.

Then Snape stands up and wants to speak, but I decide to show him what he deserves and start to applaud. The other students, especially those that had helped him and the Slytherins follow me and the Weasleys and those sitting around us follow them. Soon the whole hall is cheering and Snape sends me a grateful nod.
I nod back at him, knowing that for Harry's sake we will work on our newfound truce the best we can and then the man says: "Seeing Mr. Potter's obvious interest in Potions would I like to know what made him behave like he currently does while in my class. I fear the reason, but wish to know it either way, so I'll read next."
All the students that helped him nod and the man walks from the Head table to the Owl stand, using his wand to levitate a large scroll of parchment over to me and Remus. I open the scroll and smile as it's a detailed list of when Harry has to have what potion. Then I turn my attention back to the man as he starts to read.

Severus' POV

I can barely believe what Potter has had to go through and what he has suffered and think: "How can he even still be alive? All those wounds should have made it easier for him to kill him, but instead he still fights strong and shows nothing of his wounds. How does he do that?" But I shrug the thoughts away and start reading the next chapter.

The Potions Master
"There, look." … again, staring.

This makes many of the older students, which probably know they did so, blush in guilty humiliation and I shake my head, as all this attention, together with Draco's – now very unlikely – story, had been the base for my belief of the boy to be nothing more than a younger clone of the arrogant bully James Potter. I shake my head and read on.

Harry wished … to classes and because they seemed to only pay attention to him and not to Ron, which he thought was stupid and unfair as they hadn't even seen him do anything yet.
There were … to jump.

"You counted?" Many students ask, but Harry shakes his head and says: "Asked the Ghosts. The Grey Lady seems to like to count all the things that are mandatory inside Hogwarts to make sure everything is still like it was when she was alive." The students nod and I feel impressed as very few people get to get the Grey Lady to talk before reading on.

Then there … could walk.

"That is indeed true, Mr. Potter, but they only move if the castle is in absolute and imminent danger." My colleague Minerva tells him, but then I see Potter share a look with Ginny, who whitens and he asks: "And if Hogwarts believes that one of her students could be threatened or hurt in any truly life-threatening way. Will it then also cause the suits to move?"
The woman shakes her head and says: "Only if the Headmaster is also aware." This makes Po – no, Harry – nod and then he seems to think this over. And for some reason the conclusion of his thoughts get the boy angry, if the glare on his face is anything to go by. I ignore the rest of the boy's actions and continue reading.

The ghosts … to open. The first time that happened with Harry it had been Nearly Headless Nick, who had apparently been lost in his own thought as he too got shocked when he suddenly saw Harry. Afterwards the two laughed and Nick helped him get back to a few Gryffindors that knew their way around Hogwarts. He was also always happy … YOUR CONK!"
Of course Harry had expected this kind of behavior and had, during the first two days, hidden himself in a group of Fifth years, who all smiled at him, while their eyes strayed to his scar every five minutes. On the third day he had messed up, but had been able to use the excuse he wanted to use back on the first day. He and Ron had been about to be tripped by Peeves, when Harry's keen eye spotted Parvati and Lavender and he had quickly shouted at Peeves: "Peeves look, that girl is obviously into fashion. Just pull her hair band and you'll have her screaming for an hour." The Poltergeist had looked at him, his hands holding onto the rug he wanted to trip them with and when he had looked at the two girls he had snickered and glided away, thus doing as Harry told him.
Harry felt terribly sorry for Lavender, while Ron laughed his butt off, but he was still healing of his punishment and he didn't want to land on his ankle wrong or get hurt worse. He had been hurt enough at Privet Drive and had sworn himself to protect his body from further wounds wherever and whenever he could.

Mss. Brown of course glares at Harry playfully, but I smirk at the self-preserve the boy has and how sneakily he works with it. Then Black wraps an arm around Harry's body and says: "Getting into an agreement with Peeves in his first week. That's my boy." And Remus shakes his head, but still ruffles the boy's hair proudly as I read on.

Even worse … first morning.

"Bloody hell." The twins exclaim and one of them asks: "The first morning?" And the other comments: "It took us a week and an hour of continued pranks to get on his bad side." And together they chorus: "How'd you do that?" And Ron and Harry chorus: "Honestly, it was a dumb accident." The twins look confused and I read on.

Filch found … was passing.

"Wait a minute, what?" Minerva asks and she goes on: "We all agreed that to make sure there were no students lurking around or trying anything only the Heads would guard the Third-floor corridor. What was he doing there that early on in the year?" I have my hunch, like I had all the time that year, and simply read on.

Filch owned … good kick.
After Filch had disappeared, Mrs. Norris and Harry had met alone and Harry had tried to sit down with his hand reached out and his eyes locked with hers, hoping he could let her see he meant her no harm, but she had hissed at him, almost scratched half his lower arm open and had run off. Since then he had a grudge against the cat and happily joined the twins in thinking of Mrs. Norris pranks.
And then …used for.
Harry had really thought he would excel in this class, but during the first lesson his magic had rebound into his core so harshly it took him all his focus to stay up the rest of the lesson as it had tired him out greatly. And so, to make sure it wouldn't happen again, he held back and just made sure that the plants he worked with stayed alive and that he fulfilled the tasks given to him.
Easily the … mixed up.
Harry was not only half-asleep when he came out of the class, he was also furious as the history of his world had been ashamed by the way the ghost taught it and he vowed that, one day, he would make sure it would change, even if he had to drive the ghost to the world beyond for it. After all, if this was how History of Magic was taught, how were Muggleborns supposed to stay interested in their history and future as a witch or wizard?
Professor Flitwick … of sight.
During the lesson Harry had had the strange feeling that the man was staring at him and had faked to examine his wand movement, just to sneak a peek at his teacher; the man had indeed been looking at him, but he seemed mostly interested in his work and his eyes.

"You just really reminded me of your mother, Mr. Potter. Silent and to the background, but with an amazing talent. Although I have barely ever really seen that, to be honest." Fillius tells the lad and he sighs and says: "Don't worry, Professor. I'm sure part of the reason will soon show itself." My colleague nods and I read on.

Professor McGonagall … to cross.
Having her as Head of House was something Harry considered a blessing, but he didn't want to trust the woman blindly just yet, mostly because – like Professor Flitwick – she seemed quite interested in his wand and looks.
Strict and …complicated notes, notes Harry decided to later look up in his text book to see if he could better understand them, they were … a needle, like Percy had said. By the … rare smile.
Harry was proud of the girl, but he was blushing slightly as he had a gaping Neville next to him. He had been practicing his wand movement, like he had done in Charms, and had been muttering about the spell and its affects, saying the spell fully when suddenly his match had changed into a perfect needle – even with a small pattern of dark blue roses embedded into the metal around the head.

All of his classmates look shocked and Ron says: "But mate, what about –?" But Harry raises his hand, while Remus and Sirius smile in pride and says: "It will be explained." To this Minerva says: "I hope so, Mr. Potter, because I would love to know what happened to that needle." The boy nods and I continue reading.

Harry had panicked, wondering how on earth that had happened and had quickly cut a small piece of wood out of his table and had laid that down in front of him, begging Neville with his eyes not to say a thing. He then started working the spell, trying to fail by saying the incantation wrong or almost misspelling one of the words, but every match turned into a perfect needle, each with a small pattern on the head. In the end, Harry almost had a pincushion in his inner pocket and quite the dent in the underside of his table, while a normal match with a missing head and a very delicate silver lining around the edge was lying on his desk.
During the walk away from Transfigurations Neville asked him why he tried to mess the spell up so many times and Harry had whispered back: "I don't want my fame to make people think I can do everything perfectly. I want them first to get used to me and me to them and then I'll try to work harder." The boy had nodded and Ron had taken over the rest of the conversation with the topic of why it should be so important to turn matches into needles.

Now Minerva smiles and asks: "Mr. Potter, do you still have those needles?" Harry nods and says: "They got stuck in my robe. I keep it at the bunk of my trunk, professor." The woman nods and then says: "Clissy." And a small House Elf appears. The woman looks at her Lion and Harry nods, before she tells the creature:
"There is a robe in the bunk of Mr. Potter's trunk. The inner pocket of it is filled with needles. Could you be a dear and fetch me those needles?" The House elf bows, squealing: "I happily serve Missy Minnie." Before popping away, while many of the students look shocked at where the creature had been only seconds ago.

Now Remus and Sirius have trouble hiding their smiles and a stern Minerva turns to them, but then they shock her and ask: "Where do you think we got the nickname from in the first place?" The woman looks shocked and then sighs, while I hold back a snicker, showing only a small smile, which is quite well hidden by my long black hair.

Clissy soon returns and the woman examines each and every needle, enlarging them a little and waving her wand over them, obviously testing the magic performed on them. She nods and shows the boy a rare but wide and proud smile. Granger then summons the needles and when she looks at them, she gasps and says:
"Harry, there are all kinds of things on the heads. Dragons and snakes and roses." Everyone looks shocked and Harry says: "Don't ask. I don't know how that happened either. Must be because with some of them I did misspell the words a little. With others I guess, my mind just wasn't completely on the needles."
The girl nods, still in awe as she looks at the needles and the heads and then Brown picks one and says: "Oh Harry, I love this one. Can I have it?" Harry shrugs and says: "Go ahead. If it weren't for this book, I would have kept those things in that robe my whole life." The girl happily puts the needle in her pocket and I read on.

The class … he went.
Harry didn't believe this story either, because his scar hurt and an echo of that high laugh resounded in his head every time he looked at the turban. He remembered that Hagrid had told him how Voldemort might not be dead and wondered if the man that killed his parents could have been the same vampire Quirrell had met on his journey.

Everyone looks at each other and Fillius says: "Not a bad theory." And Hagrid says: "Yeah, if it was true, the pain in Harry's scar would have been a sign that You-Know-Who had changed Quirrell into a vampire too and had made him his servant or something." I sigh, wishing the damned man to have really been a vampire and read on.

Harry was … head start.
But there was something about that that made it both a blessing and a curse to Harry. Ron obviously wanted to achieve, but it didn't seem like he really wanted to do it academically as he often complained about Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and even Hermione Granger showing off and being better than him and after the Transfigurations incident Harry didn't dare show his true talent in fear of losing his only friend. He didn't even know how well he was in magic by himself, so what would happen to him and Ron if he suddenly started shining like Hermione? Would he then lose the only friend he had? He couldn't take that risk.
He wanted to shine with Ron, not above him.

Weasley looks shocked and asks: "You didn't do your best, because of – me?" Harry nods and says: "You have to understand, you were my first friend. The only person who not only wanted to hang around with me, but who also didn't seem to care for the Boy-Who-Lived thing. I didn't want my magic to break us apart."
Ronald looks hurt and says: "That –." But then he sighs and says: "I admit, that might have happened. Back then. But, you know, after Halloween it really wouldn't have anymore, mate. And you could have just told me." But Potter shakes his head and says: "Didn't want you to think I pitied you." Ronald sighs and says:
"Good point. I probably would have thought that back then." But then he lies a hand on the boy's shoulder, Black grabbing his arm and making sure it's not somewhere Harry's shoulder hurts and says: "But we've been through so much. You can show yourself now, you know. In more than just danger." The two smile at each other and I read on.

Friday was … lost once.
After the first terrific meal it had been harder for Harry to eat as widely as Ron, but he had still eaten as much as he could and he could feel his strength growing with every day – as long as he ate his porridge, which he thought wasn't the best meal he could have and so covered it in sugar.
"What have … day before.
Harry and Ron had, halfway through the week, discovered they have different ways of studying and Harry had taken his studying to the library, where he could do his best to write down everything he knew about the essay subjects without Ron wondering how he could know so much. It wasn't really a talent, but it at least made him feel as if he was worth the stay at Hogwarts – and not as if he had Dudley's brain.

The students laugh and I say: "I must admit, Mr. Potter, that what your essays lack in structure and grammar, they definitely gain in details and knowledge concerning the subject." My colleagues nod and the boy turns red and says: "I'll try working on that, Professor." And Minerva says: "We look forward to it." Before I read on.

Just then … hated him.

This makes me, Black, Lupin and Draco sigh and I say: "I apologize for giving you that impression, Mr. Potter. I didn't hate you. I –." I then sigh again and say: "I hated only how you looked. It not only reminded me of your father, a man that, as a teen was a true nightmare to me, but also of who I lost to him – my only friend, your mother."
The boy nods and asks: "Professor, could you, mum and dad one day tell me exactly the worst things that happened between you four that made you hate my dad so much?" I sigh, not wanting to dig up old skeletons, but knowing that the boy deserves the truth above all else and nod, making the boy smile widely as I read on.

Potions lessons … new celebrity."
Harry wondered if his fame was the reason the man seemed to dislike him so much.
Draco Malfoy … he began.
These words alone intrigued Harry even more than his Potions book had done and he quickly grabbed his quill, ink and parchment, writing down the words and memorizing them for later. He listened intently as Snape continued his speech,
He spoke … raised eyebrows while Harry decided not to write that last sentence down. He quickly dried the ink, rolled up the scroll and hid it away before Professor Snape could see it and believe he hadn't been paying attention. Hermione Granger … he was; he knew a lot of plants, but the ones that were magical were just harder to remember Hermione's hand … with laughter as he tried to remember everything that started with a letter B that he had read about in his Potions book – had he bought the wrong one, because he couldn't for the life of him remember reading about such a thing.
"I don't … and Fungi?
Of course he had read that and his Herbology book through the most, but to remember all those magical and non-magical ingredients was terribly difficult. Harry wished he had read the book through again before entering class.
Snape was … and wolfsbane?"
He couldn't believe this was happening and if Ron had not been sitting next to him or if Snape's icy cold look had not reminded him of his uncle, he knew his eyes would not have been misty with tears. At this … Seamus winked.
This gave Harry some happiness and the feeling he was as useless here as he was in the Muggle world disappeared a little.

I look shocked at reading this last part and while trying to hide my own pain, do I think: "No. Did I really make him feel like that? Was he looking that forward to my class? Like – like Lily?" I look up and see Harry has his head down, being embraced by Lupin and cooed at by Black, who whispers that he's not stupid and that he belongs here.
I know I will have to work hard to get that amazing interest back. "With such interest comes talent, everyone knows that. I have to see how much talent Potter really has. Maybe –." I then widen my eyes and mutter: "Maybe he even exceeds his mother." Everyone looks at me, but I ignore it, especially the questioning look Harry sends me and I read on.

Snape, however … cheek, Potter." Harry blushed, but as Snape turned around a hidden smile came on his face and he looked at his lap, where a roll of parchment, a quill and his writing hand were busy writing down the actual answers.

I shake my head and reread that sentence and then smirk and think: "A Lion's heart, but the ambition of proving one's self that can only been found by my Snakes. Potter obviously inherited this from his mother's side of the family, seeing almost all Blacks ended up Snakes." I then smirk at a snickering Harry and read on.

Things didn't …to like.
And whenever Snape did spare a glance at the Slytherin side of the classroom, Harry quickly wrote down what he was doing on the roll of parchment on his lap, telling Ron it was his way to prove Lions can be as great Potioneers as Snakes.
He was … his nose.
Harry felt for the boy, but still used Ron's close presence not to whimper himself as Snape might not have been as large as his uncle but his anger made his magic come off and that was almost as scary as the anger radiating off his uncle's face sometimes.
"Take him … to Neville.
Harry felt himself trembling but held in on it as much as he could, while his eyes kept flying from Snape's face to his body and hands, searching the man's wand and hoping he wouldn't draw it.
"You – Potter … that Harry, his fear forgotten as he had located a small piece of black wood with a black wooden ring at the end in the man's inner pocket, opened his … their cauldron. It almost caused Harry to lose his notes and he quickly sat back down, if only to save his notes.
"Don't push … first week

"Which is absolutely nothing, I can assure you." Ronald says, slapping the boy on the shoulder and he goes on: "After all, remember what I said after that Norbert incident?" To which Harry retorts: "Remember my retort to that?" The boy turns red and then Charles whispers something that makes his head turn with lightning speed and he asks:
"Are you for real?" Charles nods and Ronald asks: "How do you know?" And his elder brother answers: "They're the more vicious ones when young." And while this makes me wonder what on earth the two are talking about, does Ronald grumble: "Yep, female alright." This doesn't make me know anything more and I read on.

Why did … with you?"
Harry smiled at the boy's weak attempt to take his mind away from the Potions teacher's behavior, but he was not about to let such an amazing subject be ruined. He would find a way he could prove himself in the subject, even if it was the last thing he would do.
At five … black boarhound.
Had it not been for the fact that Harry saw something positive shine in the boarhound's eyes, Harry would have turned and – Ron or no Ron – he would have bolted back to the castle out of pure fear.
There was … the Forest."
Harry really wanted to tell Hagrid not to judge them all the same, but he thought this would either help Ron stand up for himself or make him feel even less significant. He really hoped it would be the first.
The rock … first lessons.

Now Hagrid looks down and says: "I always manage to eat an entire plate." And Harry says: "That's probably because you grew up with more Giant genes in your body than wizard. Your magic was unable to continue, because you were expelled and, I don't know, maybe that allowed the giant-strength within you to grow."
The man smiles, while many students now look at the man in shock and says: "Yeah, I guess. Thanks Harry." The boy shrugs and then Minerva says: "Hagrid, once we've discovered the reason behind your expulsion – and I know Mr. Potter discovered about that in his second – will I discuss things with the Board of Governors.
There are after all some parents that want their kids around a bit more and those kids can take a quick course on the Hogwarts curriculum concerning the Fourth and Fifth year education. We might not be able to get you far enough up to course to let you do N.E.W.T.s, but I will try and get you allowance to do your O.W.L.s."
The Half-giant smiles with tears in his eyes and sniffs: "Thanks professor. And can professor Grubbly-Plank then take over my classes again?" My colleague nods and says: "I will make sure she becomes aware of the situation at the quickest of time." And with all that taken care of, do I turn back to the book and continue reading.

Fang rested … on purpose, but at least believed both him and Ron were rubbish at subject changes. While Ron … were there."
Harry quickly thought of everyone he had met that day, but none of them had he also seen entering Gringotts when he left. Did that mean it happened later? Or when he was already gone?
There was … tell Harry?
Later that night Harry just couldn't sleep and not because of lingering thoughts on the strange package. His mind drifted back to the Potions lesson and his determination to prove himself reared up. He sat up, opened his trunk and grabbed a large set of books, his scroll with notes, his ingredients and his cauldron.
He used the books as a sturdy surface to put his cauldron and with his scroll of actions and his Potions book open and another set of books serving as a cutting plate, he started on the cure for boils all over again, making sure no fumes escaped and only opening the curtains every now and then to let some cool wind flow in.
Finally, around midnight the young Gryffindor fell asleep, his ingredients used, his scroll further filled with notes and pieces of side-information and a bottle with a perfectly brewed cure held strongly in his hand, while two other vials had potions in them where Harry had messed up at a certain step. He had kept these as example of his hard work, but he had decided not to show this until he knew exactly why Professor Snape hated him.

I look shocked, while a small proud smile shines on the boy's face and then Neville says: "Well, now we know why his bed sometimes feels like a sauna." And I realize the boy has been doing this for years. I look at the young boy, who gets praised by Black and Lupin, shocked at his talent to grow in who he is no matter what and think: "Lily would have been so proud."
And with that I sit back down, more than ever intent on fixing my bond with the boy and trying to get the same bond with him as I had with his mother – this time without messing up. I know I will have to work hard on this and as I look up at the boy again, I think: "For Lily – and for Harry – it will be worth it. And hopefully these books will help me do that." And this makes a small smile appear on my face.