*Revised 2/18/18

"Potter!" Severus snapped, furious. How dare the boy think he could slack off during his detention, especially after his inexcusable tardiness.

Potter flinched and spun around, obviously not expecting to be caught. He strode over to the brat, stopping to loom over him, carefully avoiding looking into his deceiving eyes. The doppleganger shrank back, a spark of fear flitting across his open-book face. Good, let him be afraid. It was better than that condescending glare the impertinent boy always wore.

"While I realize that your imbecilic mind is incapable of comprehending all but the most elementary principles," Severus sneered, "I fail to see how you could possibly think I might find it amusing to see you lazing about during detention and wasting my time." He scoffed, disgusted. "Just as arrogant as your swine of a father, always strutting about, thinking yourself superior." He noticed the boy's fist clench and pressed on. If the brat thought he could get away with such insolence, he was irrefutably mistaken. He would have to make certain the boy was taught a lesson he would not forget. "No doubt you think your... celebrity status makes you exempt from such menial tasks as cleaning cauldrons, and no doubt your other teachers have reinforced this idiotic notion," he scorned, "but it is, unfortunately, my duty to inform you otherwise."

At this he noticed the tremors wracking the boy's hands, the way his muscles tensed, weight shifted entirely onto one leg, eyes dropped to the floor. Severus' eyes narrowed even further. So the brat still hadn't addressed his leg. The limp had seemed better earlier, but no, the boy needed a nanny in order to complete even the basic essentials of caring for himself! Well, if he thought that meant that he could get away with slacking in his detentions, he was sorely mistaken.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Potter," he snapped.

They boy looked up, shoulders hunched defensively, defiance written clearly across his face, though, for reasons unknown, he refused to utter a word. Perhaps this was a new form of rebellion to authority? As if the brat didn't have enough tricks already...

"Tell me, Potter," he sneered, "do you understand a word that I am conveying? Or is your skull so impenetrable that it would take a rampaging Ukranian Ironbelly to get through to you?"

The boy seemed confused for a moment, then his face set in anger, jaw clenched before, miraculously, he rediscovered the gift of speech.

"I understand perfectly, sir," the laggard slurred impetuously, anger coloring his tone. It was obvious that the boy understood nothing. No respect for authority and even less tact.

Severus towered over Potter menacingly, taking note when the boy shrank back slightly. It seemed that some things did get through to him. "Twenty-five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, and a month of detentions." He really hated to have to follow up on that threat, wasting his precious time on Potter of all people, but Severus Snape was a man of his word... when it mattered. The brats would never respect him otherwise.

The boy opened his mouth indignantly and Severus added, "Another word, Potter, and your housemates will be very displeased with you come the morning."

The boy took a moment, swallowing his anger enough to growl, in a pitiful attempt at deference, "I don't quite understand, sir, why I've been given detention for a month."

Severus gave the boy an incredulous look, though he shouldn't have expected the brat to remember. Gryffindors...

"If you had the attention span of a flobberworm you might recall that I specifically instructed you not to laze about during my detention." He glanced at the cleaned cauldron on the counter, then back to Potter. "I can see that you have conveniently forgotten you were not to use magic either," he drawled.

The boy's head snapped up, angry, "I didn't use magic!" he blurted out.

By his indignation, it would seem the boy was telling the truth. He was too much of an idiot to even conceive of faking such a response. Still, better to be safe... He glanced at the clock, seeing it was now eight thirty-three. Blast it all, he would have to walk Potter back to his dormitory, as the curfew for the younger students was eight o'clock. It seemed that he would have to address the issue of magic usage tomorrow night.

He took one more glance at the spotless cauldron. "The only reason I believe that, Potter, is because I find it harder to believe you are capable of casting such magic without my notice. No, you prefer a more... flamboyant approach, befitting of the precious Golden Boy." The boy opened his mouth again but Severus spoke over him. "You will continue your detention tomorrow. I expect you to report to my office at seven o'clock sharp. Is that clear, Potter?" His tone left no question that if the boy failed to comply he would wish he had never been born.

The boy glared through him, but seemed almost defeated. Unusual. "Yes, sir," the boy muttered. His feeble attempt at deference would have to do for now. After all, he now had an entire month of detentions now in which to impress upon the boy the value of respect and conduct befitting a wizard instead of an imp.

"Now, Potter, as you have wasted my time with your meaningless drivel and it is after curfew, I am required to escort you back to your dormitory. Come with me."

The boy continued glaring at the wall, but reluctantly followed Severus as he swept from the softly-torchlit stone chamber. It was regretful that he had to bring the boy to his common room. Under other circumstances he might have just let the boy find his own way, but there was Black and the wolf to worry about. So, as much as he wished it otherwise, he would be paying the lions' den a visit.

He made his way through the twisting stone passageways of the ancient castle, passing few students along the way, Potter trailing behind him like a kicked puppy. When he stopped for the second time to allow Potter to catch up (the first time a simple "Hurry up!" sufficing), he had had enough.

"Mister Potter," he snapped as the boy trudged up to him once again, "are you incapable of walking? If so, I suggest you take yourself directly to the hospital wing. If not then I suggest you keep up, or you will be finding your house points remarkably depleted."

The boy seemed annoyed, refusing to look up. "I'm fine," he muttered, frustrated.

Severus gave the boy a firm look which he seemed to sense, though his eyes were glued to the ground.

"Sir," the boy added hastily.

The boy's antics were grating on his nerves, and either he would snap out of it soon or the brat would find himself in detention for the rest of the year and down a few hundred house points. "That is not what I asked, and you are to look at me while I am speaking to you, Potter." He waited for the boy's gaze to drift upwards. "Now, are you or are you not capable of walking at a reasonable pace?"

The boy angrily replied, "I am capable, sir."

Severus' eyes narrowed at the obvious disrespect in the boy's voice. "Mind your tone, boy. That will cost you ten points from Gryffindor. Now keep up."

He continued down the stone passageway, ignoring Potter's frustration. He hardly glanced out the windows to the right, tonight treating a beautiful view of the surrounding countryside and starry sky. He was entirely focused on getting Potter out of his hair as soon as possible. The boy managed to keep up for a whole three corridors and a flight of stairs before he once again began to lag behind, and they were only halfway to the blasted tower! Potter was going to rub him raw before they got there, so intent he was on finding any way to irk him.

"Potter!" Severus snapped at the boy, current slogging ten paces behind and counting. "No matter how amusing it is to you to emulate a sloth, I suggest you find a better way to use your time that does not waste mine. Fifteen points from Gryffindor."

His brow furrowed as the boy glanced up at him, face stony but eyes lost, tiredness displayed there instead of the anger he expected. He quickly shifted his view, escaping those torturous eyes. It seemed, from his expression, that the boy wasn't, in fact, playing games, deliberately lagging behind to test him. Perhaps the brat's leg was bothering him more than he let on. For a moment he entertained taking the boy to the hospital wing, but no, Potter was Potter, and his only language was disrespect. This was obviously some sort of scheme... he only had to find out what it was. Unfortunately, it seemed the only option Severus had for now was to tolerate the boy until they reached the Gryffindor common room.

"Sorry, sir," the boy muttered, surprising Severus. The boy never apologized: it was beneath Dumbledore's favorite student. Now he was certain this was some sort of moronic Gryffindor scheme.

Finally, they reached the Grand Staircase, Potter managing (for once) to keep up with him. Halfway up the first flight of stairs, however, he heard the brat stop again.

"Potter!" he snarled, whipping around as he heard the footsteps stop. "I have had enough of your games! Get moving this instant or we will be visiting the Headmaster on the way to your dormitory."

A slight shudder ran though the boy's small shoulders before his posture changed. Whereas it had been tired and frustrated before, now it was angry and determined. The boy's eyes found Severus' and held his gaze for a long, tense moment. Long enough to force Severus to look away. The boy was acting extremely oddly tonight; Severus had never seen that strange look in his eyes before, a look that even seemed to pull him, of all people, in. What could it mean? What was the boy plotting?

Severus turned and started up the stairs again, the boy following behind at a reasonable pace. He shook himself mentally, clearing the residue of their shared glance from his mind. It was nothing, he told himself, just Potter being Potter.

The rest of the walk to Gryffindor Tower was uneventful, Potter trailing along behind him, silent as a stone. As they reached the Portrait Hole he spoke the idiotic password, breaking the thick silence that had escorted them on their journey. Potter climbed through the portrait hole without a backward glance, and Severus couldn't bring himself to speak another scathing word to him, no matter how well deserved.

Harry found himself in his dorm's bathroom, staring into the mirror. He hadn't the slightest idea how he had gotten there; the last thing he knew he had paused a moment to rest against a banister and Snape had chewed him out for it. Well, at least Snape wasn't around anymore. He might as well get to bed and call it a day.

And Harry did just that, quickly switching into his overlarge pajamas (if one could call them such) and brushing his teeth before climbing between the covers of his plush four-poster bed. His other dorm mates were already asleep, leaving Harry to wonder what time it was. Though as he lay there, wishing himself to sleep, he found his mind churning, wide awake. How ironic that during detention he was so tired, but now lay unable to sleep, despite his exhaustion.

After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, continuously flipping his pillow to the cold side, he decided to go for a walk. A good walk always served to clear his head, whenever he could get away from the Dursleys. He got up, fished his invisibility cloak from his trunk, changed into more reasonable clothes and quietly made his way out of the room, down the staircase, and out the portrait hole. The Fat Lady called, "Who's there?" but Harry didn't answer, silently creeping down the dark corridor.

Harry didn't even notice his ankle hurting until he was once again at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, so absorbed was he in his thoughts, or what few he could decipher from the gray cloud in his mind. It wasn't so bad though; he could deal with a little pain. He was just so tired though. Why couldn't he sleep?

He moved into the Entrance Hall, seeing that the doors were slightly ajar. It was unusual, but Harry paid the strangeness no mind, instead seeing it as an opportunity to take his walk down by the Black Lake. Some fresh air would do him good.

With that thought in mind he scooted through the crack between the doors and into the frigid night air outside. He shivered in the light breeze, wishing he had put on something warmer. No time for regrets, though; he might as well make the most of this opportunity. Down the sloping lawn to the lake he went before another thought came to him: maybe he could stop by and visit Bird while he was out here. It was a long shot –she was probably asleep –but it was worth a try. The crescent moon lit his way to their stone bench beneath the small stand of trees. Harry shrugged off the invisibility cloak and sat down heavily, tracing the imperfections in the stone for a moment. He really was tired.

"Bird?" he whispered into the wind. Then, a little louder, "Bird?"

The only response was the moaning of trees in the breeze and sparkling stars, reflected on the waters of the mirror lake. Harry pulled up his legs, hugging them as he shivered. He decided to give it one more try.

"Bird? Are you there, Bird?" he called, as loud as he dared.

"Birdnesst?" a quiet voice asked.

"Bird!" Harry smiled happily, looking around. "Where are you?"

"Down... here," Bird said slowly, tiredly.

Harry reached for his wand, casting lumos, that brilliant little light bursting into life at its tip. He looked down and saw the familiar outline of his serpentine friend, her head poking around one of the bench's legs.

"Hi, Bird," Harry said, slowly moving down to sit on the grass near her. He knew how much she hated fast movements.

She slithered over to him slowly, lightly nudging her head under his hand, just a few degrees warmer than her freezing body. She carefully wrapped herself around his wrist and through his fingers until she felt secure.

"It iss night," she stated. "You should be ssleeping in the stone pig wart cave."

Harry couldn't help but smile at her comment. He raised his hand to his chest and could feel Bird pressing against the warmth.

"I know," he replied, "but I can't sleep, so I thought I could visit you. I hope I didn't wake you..."

"I am glad to be with you," Bird replied, "and you are warmer than where I sssleep, so it iss no bother."

Bird shifted slightly and then spoke again, tentatively, "You are not well, Birdnest. You sshould ask your kind for help."

Harry tensed. He had really hoped it wouldn't come back to this. It was enough with Ron and Hermione on his back, he didn't need a snake too! He was fine: why couldn't anyone see that?

Bird gave a sigh, sensing his tension, and cut off the heated reply on the tip of his tongue. "I assk you to do this because I care, Hasse. Is it sso hard to ask for help?"

Harry immediately swallowed his words. She was right. She, and his friends, were just caring about him. He was being stupid. But still... anything was better than the Hospital Wing. He might be sick, but not sick enough to risk that. He sighed as well. A companionable silence fell about them, and though Harry shivered from time to time he found he didn't mind the cold so much.

"It's... complicated," he eventually said.

"How?" was Bird's simple reply.

Harry wasn't sure how to answer. How could he explain his hatred of the Hospital Wing, how afraid he was that something horrible would happen if he really was sick? The memories of the weeks he had spent there, wounded and in pain from accident after accident swam dizzyingly in his mind. He let silence fill the space, hopefully providing something of an answer, however shallow.

The pair sat together until the midnight sky lightened to gray, the wispy clouds lighting up in soft pastels. Bird had made her way up to Harry's neck and had situated herself between his collar and skin, her head resting on his shoulder as she slept. Harry's shivers had died down, replaced by a stiff numbness in his limbs, hardly felt. What he did feel was a growing sense of nausea, a cold sweat breaking across his brow. He hated that his body was betraying him like this – giving him all these random symptoms without cause. He hated that everyone thought he was sick when he wasn't, as if they could tell better than he what was wrong with him. He hated that it was so hard for him to think, like his brain was slowly turning to custard. And he hated all the stupid detentions he was going to have with Snape this month. He hated it all, even though he was too tired to feel it. The only good thing that had happened to him, since last year even, was Bird. Thank Merlin he had her through all this confusion and chaos.

"Bird?" he asked, voice thick with disuse.

She shifted slightly and Harry took that as evidence she was paying attention.

"Do you want to stay with me? Like forever?" Well, that could've come out better.

"Yess, I would like that," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"You sure?" Harry asked again.

"Yes, I am sssure. You are good to be with," Bird replied softly, sensing the seriousness of his question.

"Would you live in the... in Hogwarts with me?" Harry asked nervously.

Bird paused a moment before giving a thoughtful reply. "There are many of your kind there, Birdnesst. I do not think it would be a good place for me. There is no grass and the sstones are cold. It would be hard to hunt."

"But if I made a place just for you, would you come with me? If it had everything you needed?"

Bird lifted her head from his shoulder to look out at the lake. She took a moment before answering. "Yes, I would go with you."

Harry couldn't keep the smile off his face, despite the fact that he was continuing to feel worse and worse. Bird wanted to stay with him! If it had been another time and place he would've whooped for joy.

"But I will not be your servant-creature," Bird said slyly. "You can fetch your own ssticks."

Harry chuckled, thinking that she must've seen Hagrid playing fetch with Fang at some point.

"I promise I'll get my own sticks," he joked.

Bird rolled her eyes and raised her head proudly. "Snakess do not stoop to such ssstupidity."

Harry laughed as the sun poked its first rays across the horizon, lighting up the treetops in a golden halo. The two friends watched the sun rise, both sighing as its warm rays came to rest on their faces. That was something both snakes and humans shared – a love for the sun. Unfortunately, the sun also meant that it would soon be time to go to class, and Harry hadn't slept a wink. He was going to be in so much trouble today: if he fell asleep in class Ron and Hermione would never let up. Ugh.

Too soon it came time for him to go and he said a sorry goodbye to Bird, promising to meet again very soon and hopefully be able to take her with him. He walked slowly up to the castle, invisibility cloak under his arm, surprised to have to stop several times, lightheaded and out of breath. By the time he had made it up the castle steps he was feeling even more awful than he had the past few days – head spinning, legs wobbly, shivering, ankle throbbing, stomach lurching horribly. And those were just the most pressing symptoms. Passing the Great Hall, the smell breakfast wafting by was the final straw. He lurched his way to the nearest bathroom and nearly fell into a stall, locking the door behind him. He slid to the floor, resting his cheek against the cold wall, which only made him shiver more. Abruptly he had to jerk his head over the toilet as a strong wave of nausea came over him. He dry heaved a few times, but the nausea didn't recede. What was going on? He had been fine just a few minutes ago, for Pete's sake!

He sat there, shivering, ill, for more than a few minutes. He heard the pattering of feet passing by, likely on the way to breakfast, but the thought only returned his waning nausea. He could only pray that no one came into the bathroom. Fortunately for him, no one seemed to have need of the room this morning. That was, until he heard a familiar sarcastic laugh outside the door, followed by several sets of footsteps entering. Just his luck.

Harry huddled at the back of the stall, heart in his throat as he heard Malfoy's familiar voice.

"My father says that the beast will be put down," Malfoy said proudly, his comment received with grunts of agreement by his minions.

"I don't know what they were thinking, putting that oaf in charge of a class. He should be the subject of one," Malfoy smirked. Crabbe and Goyle grunted again and the running of water was heard. So Malfoy was primping himself. Typical.

Malfoy continued on in this manner for a few minutes before finally deciding to depart. Harry almost could've leapt for joy if he wasn't about to vomit. But, just his luck, he couldn't hold back his nausea any more, just moments before Malfoy walked out the door. Why him? Why was it always him? He mentally begged Malfoy to just go, but of course his silent pleas were to no avail.

"Hello?" Malfoy asked, seeming confused. "Is someone there?" Of course someone was there. Was Malfoy deaf as well as stupid?

Harry heard Malfoy tell Crabbe and Goyle to go to breakfast without him, that he'd be there in a moment. Then those unwelcome footsteps drew closer and closer to his stall. Oh no. His anxiety sent him into another retching fit, echoing loud against the stone walls. The footsteps stopped outside the door.

"I know you're in there," Malfoy's voice spoke, amused it seemed. "Do you need some help? I can get the nurse for you."

"No!" Harry blurted, panicked, between fits. "I'm fine. Go away!"

He could almost hear Malfoy's delicate eyebrows raising. "So it is you, Potter. Still denying your illness, tut tut. I think I will get the nurse, since you're obviously incapable of doing it yourself. That way the whole school can pity you."

"No!" Harry cried, dismayed. Malfoy couldn't!

"Give me a reason not to," Malfoy bargained, a smirk in his voice. "How would indulging you benefit me?"

Harry's mind went spinning into overdrive. What could he possibly offer Malfoy to keep this secret?

"Time's up," Malfoy said mirthfully. He heard footsteps backing away from the door.

"Wait!" Harry gasped. "What do you want?" He retched again, shivering and gasping. Please Malfoy, for once don't be a twat, he thought desperately.

Malfoy's footsteps led back to the door as he made a hmm sound. "I think I'd rather talk this over face-to-face, Potty. Or are you too afraid?"

Harry attempted to steel himself, unsuccessfully. It seemed he was going to have to play along with Malfoy's games. Fortunately, his nausea was subsiding, for now. He wiped his mouth with a bit of toilet paper and stumbled to his feet, one hand braced against the wall as he slowly, agonizingly, unlocked the door and opened it.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he took Harry in. "You look awful," he stated.

For once, Malfoy was entirely right. And Harry didn't like it.

"What do you want?" he slurred, angry but too tired to show it, left weak and quaking from his burst of illness.

Malfoy's face pinched in a cruel smirk, eyes surveying Harry's body. He reminded Harry of a predator, about to make a kill.

"What would you do, Potter, to keep this from getting out? Anything?" he asked slyly.

Harry gulped. He didn't like where this was going at all. He shrugged reluctantly, too tired to try to talk his way out.

Malfoy's eyes lit up maliciously. "If I promise not to tell anyone, you have to do whatever I say for a month. Anything I say, or I go straight to the nurse and everyone knows how ill you are."

Harry grit his teeth. "Fat chance," he bit out.

"Ah ah ah, Potty, that's not a good way to keep a secret. In fact, I think I'll go to the nurse right now… and who knows, my tongue might just slip on the way there…"

"No, Malfoy," he stated, swallowing thickly. Nothing was worth that.

The prick narrowed his eyes, put off by Harry's obstinance. "Fine, a week then."

Harry scowled, too tired to put any venom into the expression. Malfoy correctly interpreted that as a no.

"A day?"

"I'd rather die," he spat. He may not feel well, but he still had his pride.

Malfoy looked him up and down at that. "If you keep going the way you are, you probably will, stupid Potter."

Suddenly he was… so tired. He leaned against the wall, sliding down until he sat upon the floor, head leaned back and eyes closed. He didn't care anymore.

"Do what you want, Malfoy. Just leave me alone," he sighed heavily. What dignity did he have left? Malfoy had seen him at his weakest, and now he was going to tell everyone. Nothing he could do about it. Why bother?

"..Potter. Potter!"

Someone was shaking him.

"Wha-" he coughed. Oh, he must've fallen asleep. "Shove off, Malfoy," he snarled, pathetically, "I said leave me alone."

Said annoyance was crouching next to him, looking genuinely worried. Malfoy ran a hand through his perfect hair, mussing it. It looked unnatural.

"Bloody hell, Potter," he breathed, "I thought you'd died."

"Obviously not," he growled in annoyance. He stared Malfoy down, sending a clear signal to get out of his hair.

Malfoy hesitated. "I… Tell me why."

Harry stared at him, confused. Malfoy blushed, embarrassed about something, apparently.

"Tell me why you got yourself mauled by that monster for me, and I won't tell anyone you're sick. Not that I get why you don't just go to the nurse, but since it's such a big deal to you…"

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but it seemed Malfoy was being genuine. Miracles did happen.

"Buckbeak's not a monster," he stated.

"Come off it, Potter. Just answer the question."

"I dunno," he mumbled. Malfoy glared at him. "I really don't!" he insisted. "Maybe I just like getting hurt. Seems like I always end up that way."

"Fine, I knew it was worthless to talk to you," Malfoy sneered. "Have fun being sick, idiot."

"I'm not lying, Malfoy!" Harry said indignantly. He wasn't sure why he cared so much whether Malfoy thought he was. "That's your forte."

"And what," Malfoy drawled, "you're just going to jump in front of the Hogwarts Express next? You have a reason, even if you don't know it, stupid Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to retort but came up empty. He had to admit Malfoy had a point. Why did he save him from Buckbeak? Merlin knew the blonde deserved it.

"I didn't want Hagrid to get fired," he said, as Malfoy huffed and turned to leave. It was, technically, true.

"I don't know what you lot see in that oaf," Malfoy said with disdain.

"He cares, Malfoy," Harry said heatedly. "That's more than I can say for you."

It was Malfoy's turn to be at a loss for words. Their eyes met for a long, tense moment before Malfoy turned away.

"Whatever, Potter," the blonde said quietly. He turned once again and left, the door shutting softly in his wake. The room felt colder without him.