Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters and ideas are the whole intellectual property of Ms. J.K. Rowling and are hers alone to sell. I do not receive, nor would I accept any compensation for any of the owned intellectual property of Ms. Rowling (nor that which she has licensed to WB etc.). What follows is just a wacky little ditty I wanted to get out of my brain. It only got there because I so love that which Ms. Rowling created. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Brief note: Discussion of my stories and writing in general is avail. on my yahoo group. You can join my yahoo group by going to my author page – click on 'Sever Us' above and going to my website. There is a link there to the yahoo group. Sorry it has to be so complicated, but whenever I've typed a web address into the chapters here, it's messed the whole thing up. If it helps, I post chapters a little bit quicker there… :D

Chapter 18: Memories, Quidditch and Mudbloods, Oh My…

When the double lesson was over and Severus went back to his office, he found Harry had fallen asleep, his head resting on the book he'd been reading. He closed the door silently and just watched him for a minute. He looked younger when he was asleep, and Severus found himself remembering, not for the first time that day what had happened the first time Harry had heard a Howler…

He'd been two and a half years old – Not long after Christmas… He couldn't remember what the student who'd gotten it had done, but the screaming had erupted over breakfast that morning. It had been that student's father bellowing at his son. At first, Harry had sat, frozen in his chair, Severus had turned to him to see if he'd been startled and was shocked to see Harry just sitting there, pale and frozen, his spoon halfway to his mouth… and then the trembling had begun – first Harry, his spoon falling from his fingers – then his high-chair, and the dishes in front of him…

'Harry?' Severus had gently touched his arm to get his attention. The child had jumped, flinching back as if burned, and all of the glass within about a four foot radius of Harry had broken. 'Shh, Harry,' Severus had soothed, trying to maintain a calm voice in spite of how alarmed he felt over what was happening. 'It's alright, Harry. It's alright…' 

Finally, Harry'd looked up at him and recognition flickered in his eyes. 'Daddy?' he'd asked in a tiny, scared voice before reaching desperately for him, tears already streaming down his face…  Severus had picked him up and carried him swiftly to the security of the teacher's wing and had just held Harry while he cried – for nearly an hour before finally drifting off to sleep.

It was the first time that Severus had had to cancel a class, and the first time he'd seen Harry perform accidental 'startle' magic – though, on reflection as he discussed the situation with the headmaster while Harry slept in his arms, Severus was certain that it wasn't the first magic Harry'd done…

'I've always discounted it – but on many occasions I've come in to his room in the morning, and I'm sure that some things have been moved – toys not where I left them the night before… they were out of his reach, but then there they were in his cot… I just thought I was fatigued, and kept forgetting where I was leaving things… He's too young, Albus for this kind of… He's so young!…'

He'd been furious with the headmaster when he told him that he'd known that Harry'd sparked (experienced his first act of uncontrolled magic)  much earlier – in fact they'd been pretty sure that it had been before he'd been a year old. Severus had raged at Albus for keeping this from him – he couldn't deny its truth, but he should have told him!! He needed to know if he was going to raise the boy – he needed to know so he could protect Harry! Most children didn't spark until much later, usually around four or five years of age. In fact the earliest Severus had heard of a child sparking before had been at the age of three…

That was when they'd begun to train Harry – train him to control his abilities… It was also the first time they'd had to make up a wild story to hide Harry's remarkable gifts from the public. The headmaster had announced at lunch that the exploding glass had been the result of a prank. He'd very sternly lectured the students about playing such pranks, especially near Harry where the baby could be hurt. He'd been so believable, that even though Severus knew for certain that it had been Harry, he found himself scowling menacingly across the Great Hall…

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, he moved closer, around beside Harry, peering over his shoulder at what he'd been writing:

Describe some of the possible negative consequences from Muggle objects being magically altered.

1) If you get caught using one your Dad will murder you – really hard. Or, if you have a Mum, she might send a really loud Howler to breakfast…

2) When you get caught and your Dad murders you, everyone at school will know that you got in trouble because your Dad lives right upstairs and they will all laugh at you and look at you funny and the stupid girls will all say Ooh, Harry are you alright?.......

3) If a charmed object gets back to Muggles they might find out about Magic.

4) If a charmed object gets back to Muggles they might get hurt.

5) If you get caught charming a Muggle object, or using a charmed Muggle object you might get fined – because it's illegal.

6) ?? Possible danger of Magic having a bad reaction to Muggle technology?? Dangerous effects?

He seemed to have started investigating the final option after attempting to scratch out the first two… At any rate, the book he'd fallen asleep on was a Muggle Studies book, and it was opened to the "how 'technology' works" section.

'Hnnn,' Harry mumbled, looking up blearily, his glasses askew. Then noticing Severus staring down at him he jumped, coming completely awake in an instant. 'Dad!! Wha…?'

'Tired were you?'

'Yeah,' he yawned, then looking down again, he noticed his notes in plain view and quickly shuffled his parchments to cover them.

'I'd say the last one holds the most promise for an essay topic,' Severus said casually.

'Yeah…' Harry blushed. 'The rest was just rough notes… Must have nodded off – sorry… uh…' He fidgeted nervously, shoving his notes into his bag. 'Is it time for supper?'

'There's a few minutes.' Severus sat on the edge of his desk, motioning for Harry to remain seated. 'People were giving you a hard time?' he asked finally, after a long pause.

Harry merely shrugged, his fingers idly twirling the drawer pulls on his father's desk. 'You know,' he mumbled. 'Just the usual… How were your classes?'

'You know,' Severus chuckled lightly. 'The usual… Actually, this last one was the first year Slytherin/Gryffindor class. They're mostly too afraid of me to muster much of a glare…' The two of them had often discussed the propensity of the students and staff to glare at Severus whenever Harry was in trouble, and Harry had already confessed to having spied on his father's classes enough when he was younger to have witnessed first-hand the effects him being in trouble had on Severus' classes.

Harry couldn't help but smile when Severus chuckled again. They had long ago decided to make light of the wizarding world's (Hogwarts included) seemingly firm belief that privacy was a right allowed to everyone but the two of them…

'Did someone really ask you if you were alright?' Severus asked with a frown a moment later.

'Yeah,' Harry groaned, rolling his eyes melodramatically and putting on a high-pitched voice, 'I heard you didn't make it back to Gryffindor at all last night! Are you alright?!' he finished dramatically faking a quivering lip and look of deep concern.

But Severus wasn't laughing. 'I'm sorry they did that Harry,' he said, frowning. 'That must have made you very uncomfortable… Maybe you should have gone back to your dorm…'

'Nah.' Harry cut him off with a smirk. 'But you should have seen the face of the third girl to ask me the same dumb question when I told her that being suspended by my thumbs for the night was nothing compared to the lashing hexes you usually use when I step out of line…'

Severus stared, gaping at him for a moment before he managed to speak. 'You didn't! What did she…'

'Thought she was going to have a stroke at first, but then Ron and Hermione started laughing with me and before long everyone was in hysterics. Auntie Vi had to threaten to take points before everyone could catch their breath.' Half a second of Harry's 'pure innocence' look was enough to elicit ringing laughter from Severus.

'You… you…' he gasped. 'I've created a monster! Oh…' He chucked, reaching to pull Harry into a playful headlock to muss his hair. 'Oh, my. You're going to be the death of me.  Where did you learn stuff like that?'

'I, Harry,' he said, stepping out of the headlock and bowing very seriously, 'am but a student to the Master.'

Severus was still smiling to himself as the dinner was served in the Great Hall that evening… right up until he heard Lockhart addressing him from a couple of seats down.

'Severus, I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, and so soon after yesterday's incident… but I'm afraid that Harry did not attend my class today.'

'Did you not receive my note?' It was only with much effort that Severus kept the disdain in his voice to a bare minimum.

'Oh!' Lockhart smiled impishly. 'Is that what that was?! I haven't gotten around to reading it yet. Excellent – I'm glad that Harry wasn't just skiving off!' He winked conspiratorially and Severus bit his tongue to keep himself from throwing his goblet at the wizard's annoying fat head. 'Still, I gave the class a bit of a quiz today to gauge how well they've read the assigned texts… Oh!' he beamed, and Severus silently reminded himself that violence was not the answer. 'I've the very idea! Young Harry does have a detention to serve for last night doesn't he?' He turned this question to Minerva as well, who was sitting on Severus' other side. 'Why doesn't he serve it this weekend with me? He can do the test and then help me with some of my mail – see that the fame isn't all fun and roses!'

Severus choked out a gruff 'Fine!' when Minerva agreed – it was her decision after all.  She was his head of house, and she had assigned the detention. But no amount of reminding himself that Albus had asked him to try and get along with Lockhart was enough for him to want to stay one minute longer than was absolutely necessary before excusing himself from the self-obsessed wizards attempts at conversation.

It took nearly two hours of working in his private potions lab, to calm his annoyance enough to the point where he allowed a slight smile, thinking of Harry's reaction to finding out what his detention would be at the end of the week.

By the end of the first week of classes, Harry was exhausted from trying to avoid both Lockhart and Colin Creevey. Lockhart because he liked to turn up  and say things like 'Tsk, tsk, dear boy, how you'll be disappointed by the fame you seek…', and Colin because he seemed to have become rather obsessed with Harry, even memorizing his schedule so he could pop up to shout 'Alright Harry?' and positively glowing with joy no matter how annoyed Harry might sound when he'd answer.

So all in all, he was really looking forward to sleeping in on Saturday and doing as little as possible until he had to go to his detention that evening. However it was not to be as he was shaken awake several hours earlier than he would have liked by Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Quidditch captain and possibly the only person more obsessed with Quidditch than Harry was – and that was saying something…

'Snerk…' Harry mumbled. 'Wha-? Oliver? Wha's goin' on?'

'Up! Time for practice. Get your broom.'

'Oliver! It's still dark out!'

'Exactly! We'll be the first ones practicing this year. We'll kill them!!'

By the time Harry stumbled into his Quidditch robes and grabbed his broom, he was awake, and even looking forward to flying. The prospect of flying again after not having a chance in the first week of classes put him in such a good mood in fact, that he cheerfully tried to explain the rules of Quidditch to Colin Creevey when he followed Harry out of Gryffindor tower.

'You may as well go back up to the castle Colin, we'll probably be a while in the changing rooms with Oliver discussing strategy. And that's for the team only I'm afraid.'

'That's alright,' Colin said cheerfully, undaunted. 'I'll just wait. I can't wait to see you flying!'

The sun came the rest of the way up, and the whole team aside from Oliver was asleep or dozing by the time he'd done explaining several very detailed boards covered in Quidditch training strategy and finally allowed the team to head out on the pitch though.

'Finally…' Fred echoed the sentiments of the whole team as they all took to the air.

It was great! Harry instantly took off, soaring high above the others to do several loop-the-loops letting the cool morning air clear the remaining cob-webs out of his mind after Oliver's long lecture.

'Alright, Harry, 'Oliver called over the loud cheers and whistles of Fred and George. 'We all know how good you are on that thing, now stop goofing around and practice those drills I told you about.'

Harry was saved having to admit that he'd slept through Oliver explaining any seeker drills when they all spotted a group of green-clad students stepping onto the pitch.  As one, the team landed following Oliver who was storming over to them, shouting and gesticulating wildly. 'Get lost Flint!' he shouted. 'Gryffindor has the pitch this morning – I booked it especially!'

'Big deal,' the other Quidditch captain sneered. 'I have a letter here from Professor Snape saying we can use the pitch because we need to train with our new seeker, so maybe you should be running along.'

'New seeker?' Oliver glared at Flint reading over the letter. 'You have a new seeker? Who?'

'It bloody figures.' Harry sneered at Malfoy when he stepped forward.

'Yes.' Flint smirked at them, holding up his new broom, a Nimbus 2001. 'Draco's father just donated new brooms for us all.'

'Like I said…' Harry rolled his eyes, jerking his head in the Slytherin's direction as Ron and Hermione came running over to see what was going on. 'It bloody figures – Draco's father bought the team… new brooms that is.'

'Better watch that mouth, Potter. Wouldn't want your Daddy to hear you were being so nasty to us Slytherin's.'

'Get bent, Malfoy!' shouted Ron before Harry could retort.

'Oh shut up Weasel boy,' Malfoy sneered as the Slytherin team snickered. 'You're just jealous because you're not good enough to make the Gryffindor team… not even as the mascot.'

It was difficult to tell who was angrier, Harry, whose fists and teeth were clenched tight, his whole body poised to spring, or Ron, who was red-faced and spluttering. But, it was only Hermione who had her wits about her enough to say anything. 'Well, at least he didn't buy his way onto the team like some people I could mention.' She glared nastily at Malfoy whose pale face reddened slightly.

'Yeah, well, even if he wanted to, it's not like his worthless family could afford it anyway you filthy little mudblood.'

The reaction to this final word was instantaneous. The whole of the Gryffindor team was shouting in outrage, and Harry, who had been trying to restrain all three Weasley's at once turned abruptly and punched Malfoy in the face. The blond boy fell hard, but before he could get back up and retaliate, Ron was standing over him with his wand drawn.

'You'll pay for that one Malfoy!' he shouted.

It happened so fast, that no one was able to stop Ron before a loud BANG was heard and Ron was sent flying backwards by the force of the hex he'd tried to use as it instead backfired and hit him square in the gut through the back end of his wand.  Abandoning the team, Harry and Hermione rushed to his side, ignoring the jeers and laughter of the Slytherins. 'Are you alright?!' they both demanded at once.  Ron opened his mouth, as if to reply, but instead gave an almighty belch, spitting several slugs onto the grass. This only served to increase the Slytherin team's amusement, so, shooting a glare in their direction Harry heaved Ron to his feet, spraying the ground with more slugs.

'Come on,' he said to Hermione, glaring at Colin until he lowered his camera. 'Let's get him to Hagrid's…'

'I can't believe I punched Malfoy…' Harry was muttering several minutes later after they dodged Lockhart and were seated in Hagrid's hut. 'My Dad is going to kill me! I'm not even out of trouble yet for the flying car thing…'

'I can' believe you two,' Hagrid scolded gently, handing Ron a bucket as he heaved up another round of slugs. 'Ron, yeh should be glad yer wand backfired. You'd 'a been in a lot o' trouble if you'd managed ter hex 'im. And you!' He rounded on Harry, who slouched guiltily. 'You will be in a lot o' trouble – Malfoy's sure t' tell yer father abou' this… Why'd yeh do something so…so…'

'He called Hermione a Mudblood,' Harry said, barely above a whisper.

'He didn'!!' Hagrid gasped.

'He did,' Hermione spoke up. 'I don't know what it means, but I could tell it must be something horrible of course – the way everyone reacted…'

'It is horrible, Hermione,' Ron groaned. 'It's about the worst thing you can say to a witch like you…'

'Muggle-born…' Harry explained to Hermione's confused look when Ron let loose several more slugs. 'It means – like dirty blood – 'cause you're not 'pure-blood' like Malfoy thinks he is… It's stupid.'

'Hermione, I'm sorry he said that ter yeh,' said Hagrid solemnly. 'But I want yeh ter put it outta yer mind. There's nothin' wrong wit'yeh…'

'Most witches and wizards don't think like that Hermione,' Harry tried to assure her. 'Really, most of us are only half-blood or less now-a-days anyway… My Mum was Muggle-born you know… Malfoy's an…' They never heard what Harry was going to call Malfoy, for at that moment they were interrupted by a loud and insistent banging at the hut door.

'Hagrid!' Came the very angry voice of Severus Snape. 'Is he in there?'

'Heh,' Harry chuckled nervously. 'That'll be for me… Wait in here for a minute, will you?'

They all watched nervously as Harry stepped out and was drawn a ways away from the hut by their potions professor. As soon as the door was closed though, they all quickly but quietly gathered around the small front window to see what was going on. Harry and Snape had stopped some thirty or forty feet from the cabin. Snape was obviously yelling at Harry, though they couldn't hear what was being said, they saw Harry gesturing back and forth between the hut and the Quidditch pitch.

'Looks like he's trying to tell him what that Malfoy git said…' murmured Ron before turning to retch up several more slugs.

'Severus won' like that,' Hagrid whispered. 'He don' stand fer no insults on Muggle-borns… Like Harry said,' he explained. 'Harry's Mum was Muggle-born, an he's always taught Harry abou' both of the worlds he come from.'

Hermione turned back to the window just in time to see Professor Snape examining the hand Harry'd hit Malfoy with. He was speaking much more calmly now, and Harry was nodding guiltily, wincing slightly as his father manipulated his bruised knuckles.  After a minute of obviously much quieter discussion between the two, Snape reached out and mussed Harry's hair – Hermione was halfway through wondering why so many people, the otherwise sour potions master included, always felt the need to mess up Harry's hair – it's not like it needed any help to be messy… when Harry turned and started back to the hut. 'He's coming back!' she whispered urgently, throwing herself into a chair and trying, with Ron and Hagrid to look casual, like they hadn't been watching the whole time.

'I could see you guys watching you know,' Harry grinned at their discomfort when he came back in. 'Don't worry, I'd have been curious too. He took ten points, and he's going to talk to Auntie – I mean, Professor McGonogall. And since my hand's not broken, he's making me keep the bruises and let them heal naturally. He said he'd do the same for Malfoy, but he wouldn't tell me how many points he's taking from him, or if he's getting a detention…'

'I have to what?!' Harry cried when Minerva told him and Ron at supper what they'd be doing that night for their detention. 'Aunt- I mean Professor. Please! Can't I do anything else? Can't I scrub with Ron? I'll disembowel frogs, I'll clean the floors of the toilets with my toothbrush…'

'No, Harry,' she insisted sternly. 'You will be taking the quiz you missed and then helping Professor Lockhart with his mail. And you, Mr. Weasley will be working alone, with Mr. Filch. Don't push me on this Harry,' she said, giving him a hard look. 'After that little display this morning, you're lucky you don't have a couple more detentions to deal with. I should take you off the team – I won't!' she added quickly, though her glare intensified.  'I'm letting your father's point deduction do for this time only! If I ever hear of you brawling like that again though. I swear, you shall be off the team, and a weeks worth of detentions. Do I make myself quite clear?'

'Yes, Professor.' Harry hung his head in shame, his face burning with embarrassment.

'Right, so,' she smiled, trying to sound cheerful. 'Make sure you both are on time for your detentions, and keep your fists to yourself from now on and we shall have no further troubles.' As she spoke, she gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze, cheering him greatly.

'I promise, Professor,' Harry vowed. 'No more fighting. Not even with Malfoy.'

'Good!' Her smile was much more genuine and motherly now. 'Good luck with your detentions boys…'