I'm back with chapter 3! This one's shorter than the last two, but I like this as an ending spot. For those of you that have reviewed, I want to thank you very much. Those of you that put this on story alert or favorites are greatly appreciated as well! Please remember this was conceived before HBP came out, so there are no Horcruxes in this story.

I don't own Harry Potter!

Chapter 3

Once outside, he slowed down. He walked through several corridors before he felt he was far enough away. Once sure he was alone, the mirth faded from his expression and he let the emotions he'd been holding back have free reign. He sank to the floor of the hallway and let the wall hold him up as he started to shake. He pulled his legs up to his chest, folding himself into a protective ball as he tried to keep from hyperventilating. Slowly he calmed and tried to figure out what exactly he was feeling.

A large part of it was relief. From the relief of not having to hold on to the mask he'd worn most of the night, to the relief of having someone who knew of his life and even seemed to care. Perhaps greatest however, was the relief of companionship.

Those who knew Harry Potter only as the-boy-who-lived might believe his greatest fear was Voldemort, death, perhaps even pain. However, Voldemort he hated for the things he had done, and feared what he might do and the damage that might be involved, but he did not truly fear the man himself. Death would have, at times, been a welcome friend, and pain had been a daily companion for many years.

Those who knew Harry Potter of Hogwarts might believe his greatest fear was of dementors, Voldemort or seeing others get hurt or die. They would be closer, for he did, indeed, fear some of those things. He did fear dementors and the memories they brought. He did fear that others would get hurt or dead and it wold be his fault. Just like it was his fault Cedric had died. Just like the deaths of all those Muggles over the summer, the ones he had visions of because Voldemort tortured and killed them himself and all the others he didn't know about but could imagine that the Death Eaters had done. And these were fears, big fears, but not his greatest and what he considered most selfish fear.

It was the fear created in an unloved child forced to live in a cupboard and not truly interact with the family it had been given to. A fear fostered at school where teachers turned a blind eye and other students were frightened away by a bullying cousin. A fear brought to full fruition after having almost faded under the caring of two companions only to have them turn from him even as the entire school did.

Isolation, not of the body, but of the soul. The isolation of having no friends, companionship, love. Of being turned away from everyone for something he didn't do. Of having no one truly believe him or truly care.

After this summer he really needed some time with the Weasleys, but Dumbledore had forbidden it. Too dangerous with Voldemort back. But what about the danger to his soul? He *needed* Molly's mothering and Fred and George's big brothering. He *needed* time with his best friends. He didn't get it. And on the train came another blow. Ron and Hermione were now a couple. And while he was truly happy for them, it left him alone on the outside again.

Now Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy were seemingly trying to break through the isolation. Already they knew more about him than either of his best friends. He had to wonder why. Not only why had they asked, but why had he answered. He knew that even if Ron or Hermione had asked, he wouldn't have told them, his best friends, nearly as much as he had Snape and Malfoy... who were his enemies!

What was it about those two that made him believe they'd understand? And they *had* understood. Then again, Draco had Lucius Malfoy as a father, and Snape probably hadn't had too great a home life either. Maybe they could understand, at least better than Ron and Hermione, both of whom grew up with great parents and a loving family.

Harry drew a deep breath and stood up. He'd come to all the conclusions he could while sitting on a cold floor in an empty corridor. Tomorrow would be the real test of whether they could be trusted. If his problems were being laughed about by the whole school or a teacher called him in for a 'talk' ... well at least then he'd *know* he was a fool.

The next day, Harry tried to covertly watch several people at once. However, he never saw what he expected. The Slytherins weren't looking his way and laughing, the teachers weren't shooting concerned, pitying looks in his direction.

Was it possible the two Slytherins hadn't told? And if so, why not? Were they planning on blackmailing him or something? There had to be a reason. It wasn't because they were his friends. Malfoy and Snape? It wasn't because they were just nice people who accepted that he didn't want it told, so why?

He looked back at the head table to find Snape glaring at him. What had he done now? He watched as Snape deliberately dropped his gaze, and followed the stare down to the plate in front of him. The plate that didn't contain anything but the pieces of a torn up roll and had never contained anything else. Snape was glaring because he hadn't eaten? That made even less sense!

Still, Snape's glare didn't move until Harry took a little food and started to eat. Even then he looked disapproving of the small amount, but at least his glare moved away once there was food in his mouth.

Detention that night just added to the green eyed boy's confusion. Snape's words were just as biting, Draco's just as insulting, still there was something different. Maybe it was that Draco was making a potion to make his scars fade. Maybe it was the way Snape wanted to know why he hadn't been eating and checked to make sure everything was healing okay.

After the fourth detention, things started to change even more. That was the day Harry finally got up the courage to ask some questions he had. Not about reasons or motivations, but about potions.

He found out something interesting that night, Snape and Malfoy loved potions! He knew they must have some interest in the subject but hadn't truly realized it was as much a passion as Hermione and her books or Hagrid with his creatures.

Most of his scars had disappeared by this time, leaving only a few. He found himself amused and even a little touched by the lengths the two went through to try and get rid of them. Snape was obviously taking it as a challenge.

Snape decided to give himself more time to work on the new potion by ordering Draco to tutor Harry on the basics of magic when it came to potions. Ten minutes later he gave up that idea altogether.

"Mr. Malfoy! I asked you to enlighten Mr. Potter on the theories of magic use! Not fill his head with useless, incorrect rhetoric!"

Draco dropped his mask enough that Harry was able to glimpse shock. "What do you mean, Professor?" Draco asked in confusion.

Severus sighed. He couldn't believe Lucius had let his son come to school so woefully unprepared. A fifth year and still believing that nonsense! He'd obviously have to reeducate the boys himself.

"What is magic?" He asked, beginning, obviously, with the beginning and using the tone he usually reserved for moronic first years.

"Something we have that Muggles don't?" Draco responded carefully.

"Incorrect," Severus bit out. His black gaze turned to Harry who actually looked as if he were seriously thinking about it. Privately, he was almost chortling at the gobsmacked look on the blond boy's face.

Harry started slowly, feeling his way through. "Magic is... it's like the air. You can't see it or feel it, but you can feel the effects, like the wind. Some places like Hogwarts there's a lot of it, while other places, there's not nearly so much. It's a ... element maybe?" he shrugged, knowing that wasn't the correct word, but not able to think of one better, "that a wizard can use to make things happen."

Draco had a superior smirk on his face, but Severus just raised one eyebrow in interest. "Not anywhere near what I would consider adequate, but not a complete waste of my time," Severus drawled.

He looked at the two soberly. "To put it in words you might be capable of understanding, magic is simply life. It exists within every living entity on the planet and traces of it exist where there is or has ever been life of any sort. Muggles are not such because they have no magic. Everyone and everything that is in any way alive has magic. Most however, have no way to actually use the magic they have. The difference between a wizard and a muggle is that ability."

"But... but..." Draco stammered.

"There are Muggles out there with every bit as much magic as Dumbledore. They simply do not possess the gift that would allow them to use it. It usually comes out in smaller ways if they have that much... charisma, intuition or other minor gifts usually considered talents... healing, green thumb, empathy, extraordinary luck and the like."

Draco had gone beyond stammering into utter speechlessness. That was not what he'd always been taught. Muggles didn't have magic, therefore any child of a Muggle, whether Muggleborn or half-blooded would have less magic. Everyone knew that! It's why being pure blooded was so important!

Potter was obviously thinking the same thing but was able to talk. "So how come wizards are so big on pure blood?"

"For the most part, pure bloods have larger channels and so can use more magic at one time. Mages are more likely to be born to pure blood families as well, although the Dark Lord is proof that it isn't necessarily so." Severus explained. He just made his students more confused.

"What's a mage?" Harry asked, even as Draco spoke up with "What are channels?"

Severus sighed in annoyance. Who had been teaching these boys? Potter, at least, had some excuse, but Draco was a Malfoy! He should have learned this long before he ever entered Hogwarts. Then again, that information might have made the blond question the things he'd been taught and that was something Lord Malfoy would not have accepted.

"Channels are what we call the conduits the magic uses to move from inside your body, to a place where it can be used. The larger the channel, the more magic can move at once, and therefore the more can be used. Longbottom, for instance, has very small channels, and therefore the magic has a difficult time moving to where it can be used. A mage is as much above a wizard as a wizard is above a Muggle. Mages have the ability to use magics from outside themselves." He turned and looked at Potter. "You, at least, should have been told this when Dumbledore explained how you beat You-Know-Who the first time."

Harry blinked. "I didn't. It was because my mother sacrificed herself for me. Which is one of the reasons it's so stupid to believe I can beat him. Especially now he has my blood, the protection's gone now."

Severus sneered almost viciously. "I don't know who fed you that load of hogwash, but it is not true. What? You don't believe the other families He has killed didn't love their children as much as your mother loved you? If that was all it took, no Dark Lord would have ever risen to power. I don't doubt your mother's death was a help, death releases the magic in a body. Why else would he kill people?"

"Besides the fact he's a soulless, unhuman monster?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Exactly," Severus agreed with a smirk. "He receives power with each death, as he would have with yours. However, he did not take into consideration the fact that you are also a mage. As far as those investigating were able to tell, you grabbed the magic of the curse and did what most children that age do about things they don't like, you threw it back. You also probably added the magic released by your parents at their deaths and V... He did not have time to react. It destroyed his body, but he had too much magic within him at the time for it to destroy his soul."

"But then, why didn't Voldemort know I was a mage?" Harry wondered.

"There are only two real ways to know whether someone is a mage. Either they do something completely impossible, such as live through a Killing Curse or they become an animagus and their form is magical. Although I don't know anyone who has seen it, it is generally believed that Dumbledore's form is a phoenix. Then again, there are those that say the Dark Lord's form is a basilisk. I do not know if I believe that, as I think he would have used that ability by now if he had it."

"I bet his animagus form is a flobberworm," Harry muttered.

"Or a grindeylow," Draco suggested.

Harry and Draco bantered suggestions back and forth, getting more ridiculous with each one. Snape managed to hide his enjoyment until one finally broke through his reserve. The idea of Voldemort as a flower fairy, with pastel wings and hair, dressed in a little dress made of leaves and flower petals, fluttering from one flower to another drinking nectar, was one of the funniest things he'd ever heard.

The students stared in shock as their dour Potion's professor started a rusty chuckling.

Harry and Draco looked at each other in shared, pleased surprise. That one moment was a defining one in the slowly building friendship between the two boys.