Authors Notes: So as you can see from the new chapter, Liberi De Luna was the winner of the poll! Yay! While the other stories will be put on hold until this one is complete, I'll do my best to try and update at least twice a month. Or at least I hope so. (crosses my fingers) Anyway, on with the story, and I hope you enjoy it!

Stares, Whispers, and Bullies

The only thing Harry can really comprehend during the first week of class is that there's so many people.

Maybe he should have expect this after how saw how many people there where at Diagon Alley, or maybe when he entered the Great Hall to be Sorted. But still now it was starting to hit him that he would be surrounded by this many, everyday, and always the same ones. And they would look at him as the Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived and The-Boy-Who-Disappeared and the The-Boy-That-Came-Back and The-Boy-People-Could-Not-Stop-Talking-About.

Walking down the hallways of Hogwarts was a challenge all in itself now- everywhere there were people staring at him, whispering his name till he just wanted to keep his hand covering his ears at all times, if only to dull the whispers. Even if his hearing wasn't better then most due to all his times as a wolf, he would still be cringing at the sheer amount of noise, flinching at every stare.

"Its him."

"That's him?"

"The Harry Potter."

"Did you see it?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Flinching, Harry kept his head low and his shoulders high in defense, as if it would protect him from his own classmates as he made his way to breakfast that early Friday morning. So far people seemed to think of him as shy, but it was because he didn't know how to act - any proper manners his former aunt might of told him gone. He wanted to growl at the people whispering about him, snarl at those who stared, and run until he couldn't even move anymore. If Neville noticed, he kept to himself, and Harry was extremely grateful. Because how does someone explain that he not use to crowds, or was a stranger to the way people are suppose to act because he's been living with a clan of werewolves who sometimes walked around stark naked?

At least classes and homework was there to be a distraction for the other students - as Harry was quickly learning, there a lot more to magic then just waving your wand and saying a few fancy words. He hadn't even had a chance to go running in his other form yet, so busy with his new schoolwork.

"What do we have this morning?" Harry asked Neville as they sat down at their table, grabbing up a slice of toast and munching on it while he piled fruits and sausages on his plate. His appetite had started growing lately - he put it towards using his magic more often now, including the few minutes he would try to spend in his wolf form everyday while hiding in this unused girls bathroom he found, even if it was just to stretch out.

"Um..." Neville pulled out their schedule. "Potions - with Slytherin." He flinched. "Why did it have to be Potions and Slytherins?" he whispered lowly, glancing over at the Slytherin table.

Playing the part of a loyal friend and sympathizing with him, Harry chanced a glance over at said Slytherins as well. Draco had yet to talk with him since their meeting before the feast - was he angry that Harry had not told him the truth about who he was? Of course, he didn't help that they didn't have any classes together save for today's Potions class. Maybe he would have a chance to talk with him before or after.

He had noticed something about the Snakes though - they seemed to both receive and deliver abuse. They would be glared at by another House (usually Gryffindor) and would throw barbed comments in return. It was like watching someone poking a real snake with a stick and getting bit in return. And yet no one else seemed to think this strange - was in normal for a student to be bullied for just being a certain House? If it was, he didn't like it, and was a little glad he didn't get stuck in Gryffindor or Slytherin, despite the fact he had friends and relatives in both.

After everyone rushed to finish their breakfast and hurry off to classes, the Hufflepuffs stumbled down to the dungeons, where it was so cold that Harry's breath turned white and everyone was shivering. Even the Slytherins started to rub their arms in attempt of warmth when they joined them a few minutes later. Harry had to remember to start doing that as well - he was actually use to weather much worse then this.

"Harry."

Turning to the voice of Draco Malfoy, Harry nodded in greeting. "Hey, Draco."

Draco, arms crossed to protect him a bit from the cold, was also frowning, and Harry vaguely noticed that he was without his other friends Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed to keep to his side - like burrs stuck to fur - during the last week. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked a bit angrily, though also obviously curious. "Who you really are?"

"I just wanted to be normal for a little while longer," Harry answered with a slight shrug. "Plus, I was still being careful, my mum thought it was better if no one knew who I was right away. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt anyone's feelings, and I'm sorry if I did hurt yours."

Staring him down for a moment, Draco's pale cheeks flushed a pale pink and he punched Harry in the arm - though it didn't hurt for more then a second, and that was more out of surprise then anything. "My feelings aren't hurt," he mumbled. "Sheesh, I'm not a girl or anything."

"So you forgive me then?"

"Yeah, sure, why not," shrugged Draco, but now there was a small smile on his face. "But I think we should start over." He held out his hand, his smile growing a little. "Draco Malfoy."

"Harry Potter," was his answer as he shook Draco's extended hand. "Pleasure to meet you - again."

Before they could have a longer conversation, the door to the Potions Room slowly creaked open, and with hesitant glances at each other, the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs shuffled into the room, taking seats at opposite ends of the room. Harry and Neville sat next to each other, and while Neville looked around in a fearful awe, Harry was just trying not to sneeze much at the many strong potion ingredients he could smell far too well flooded his senses. But to his personal pride, he could identify quite a few of them just by their scent alone. At least he had learned something from his lessons with Arianna.

The door opened again, this time with a bang as Snape made his dramatic entrance into his classroom, with his cape fluttering behind him like a pair of wings. He glared at all of them with one sweeping glance as he made his way to the front to take attendance. He called out all their names in a low, monotone voice that Harry was sure everyone else would be having trouble hearing if it wasn't so deadly quiet already. When he got to his name, he paused, finally taking his eyes off his student list.

"Ah, yes," he said in a deadly soft tone. "Harry Potter. Our new... celebrity."

A few boys on the Slytherin side of the room snickered, and Harry wanted to dunk down and bury himself into a deep hole while Snape went on to read the rest of the names. He hated the attention, the good and the bad.

Clearing his throat, Snape moved towards the front of the classroom. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Squirming in his seat, Harry suddenly felt a little worried about this class.

Snape snapped his head towards Harry and Neville's desk, as if he could sense the ever growing discomfort. "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" he questioned rapidly.

Racking his brain for a moment, Harry took a moment before carefully answering, "Its a very powerful sleeping potion, Professor." He didn't know what it was called in the wizarding world, but he remembered Arianna calling it Dead Sleep. It was used only when the patient was in so much pain he couldn't be kept awake to heal him properly. "I don't know its proper name though, sir."

"You are half correct, though for your information, Potter, it is called the Draught of the Living Dead." The corner of Snape's lip twitched for a moment. "Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"The stomach of a goat," Harry responded almost right away, remembering Arianna once saving a young werewolf who ingested some poison roots by accident, she had to force it down her throat. "It curses a lot of poisons."

"Correct, Mr. Potter," said Snape with a hint of amusement. "Three points to Hufflepuff for almost two right answers."

At that, the Slytherin side of the room dropped their jaws, as did most of the Hufflepuff side. The smell of their surprise was so sudden and strong that it made Harry sneeze.

"Bless you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Longbottom," he turned to Harry's neighbor, "what is the difference monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Uh..." Neville trembled under his teachers unwavering gaze. "T-There isn't," he stammered out. "They're the s-same."

"Correct, two more points to Hufflepuff." As his Slytherins gaped at him even more, he stepped back to look at the entire class. "Well? I expect all of you to be writing this down," he snapped, and everyone scrambled to get quill, ink and parchment. He then turned his attention to one of his snakes. "Crabbe, the name of any kind of herb that curses fevers..."

This went on for awhile, Snape asking everyone at least one question until he decided they were ready to make their first potion. Harry was as nervous as everyone else when they set up their cauldrons and lit their fires – while he had at least a few potions before with Arianna, she had never let him near the fire pit, she just usually had him work with prep and question him. Thankful though, it seemed to be a simple enough potion – one to curl boils, and all of them working in pairs. And Snape was constantly moving through out the room, keeping a careful eye on all the students to see if they might be bold enough to ask for help or in case an emergency appeared.

Busy crushing snake fangs – which he hoped with a shiver weren't taken by force – Harry was so preoccupied with making sure he got it right that he almost didn't notice Neville's almost dire mistake. Sniffling, as the smell of so many potions being made at once made his nose twitch, he turned to Neville to ask if he finished weighing the dried nettles and yelped, dropping his knife with a clatter as he grabbed his friends outstretched arm.

"Neville, stop!"

The plump boy froze, just about to release the quills in his hand into the bubbling potion. "Wha -" he started in confusion.

Snape appeared at their table almost immediately, towering over them angrily. "Mr. Potter, what do you think you're doing, disturbing the class -" He paused in his rant, finally taking notice of the quills still in Neville's hand. "Mr. Longbottom, were you about to add those quills to the potion?"

"Y-Yes?" squeaked Neville, uncertain.

"Then you should thank Mr. Potter from saving you from a painful experience - adding those quills would have caused the potion to explode and cover you in a mixture that would have given you boils from head to toe. Though perhaps it would teach you to read the instructions a little more carefully," Snape sneered as Neville paled before turning a sickening shade of green, and to add to insult some of the Slytherins started to laugh.

Feeling the embarrassment pouring off his friend in waves, Harry started to stand up, a snarl working his way up his throat, his growing nails digging into the wood desk in his anger. But before he could fully stand, a hand landed on his shoulder, Snape gently pressing him back into his seat as he turned towards his Snakes. "Enough. Mr. Longbottom has been corrected of his mistake. And if I hear any of you even snicker in my class at a mistake that I'm sure many of you will make, I will dock points yes, even from my own House," he snapped when they gaped at him. "Now, get back to work this instant."

And as everyone scrambled to get back to work, Harry breathed slowly, his nails subtly returning to normal as he calmed down.

"Thanks, Harry," mumbled Neville as Snape moved on. "I'm sorry, I could have really hurt you."

"Its alright," Harry whispered with a flashed grin. "We'll do better next time."

"That was... a weird class."

Harry cocked his head to the side as he and Neville as they left the potions classroom, with the plan to head back to the common room since they had a free afternoon until dinner. "A little, I guess," he answered with a shrug.

"More then a little, Harry," pressed on Neville. "One of the Gryffindors told me about Snape - he never stands up for anyone but his Slytherins, and the same goes for points." He shook his head, looking bewildered. "Its just weird..."

Shrugging, Harry was about to respond that maybe Snape wasn't as mean as people said he was, or maybe he was just getting nicer with age, but then they entered the next hallway, which was brimming with activity as practically everyone in the school either moved to a different class or hung around to talk before they went their way. Almost at once, everyone fell silent, their gazes firmly on him as he froze in the doorway.

And then broke out into whispers, a sound that made it feel like his ears were filled with a swarm of bees.

Cringing, Harry dropped the books in his hands and slapped them to his ears, shoulder rising in an attempt to hide himself. He'd been trying - he'd been trying so hard to ignore the stares and voices for the last week - but it was getting to be too much. He didn't like all this attention - and for what? For something that happened when he was only a year old? An incident that killed his parents and left him with relatives that had abused and neglected him to the point his uncle left him in the middle of the woods. He hated this. He hated all this unwanted attention.

He just wanted to be left alone.

"Harry?" the concerned voice of Neville sounded so far away, like there was a wall of water between the two of them, even though Harry knew that his new friend was right next to him, reaching out to rest his hand on his shoulder. "Harry, are you alright?"

Shaking his head, Harry flinched away from Neville's touch - from the noise and stares. "I'm - I'm sorry," he said with a whimper before he burst into a run, pushing through the crowds so he could get to the nearest exit, ignoring the anger and confused shouts of those he had to push aside. He raced down a nearly empty corridor, with its only occupant jumping aside before he got ran over, the red head throwing him a bewildered look that he barely had time to notice.

Reaching the main enterance a few minutes later, Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he found then opened a crack already, just wide enough to let a small breeze flow through the already cool castle. He shoved his way through and made his way outside, putting on another burst of speed so he could race down a hill, pass the lake that he crossed the first night, and finally entered the forest that Dumbledore had forbade all students from entering.

But then again, he wasn't a normal student.

The moment he was sure that he wouldn't be seen, Harry let himself change mid-air as he leaped over a log, clothes melting away to pitch black fur, landing with a thud on white tipped paws. He shook himself out, taking a moment to take in all the new scents and sounds that his wolf form could sense now.

One scent stood out the most, and Harry felt his tail wagging. Wolves. A whole pack of them. Though he doubted they were a were-clan, not the same smell. But still, a pack he could run with on the full moon. He would have to greet them soon. But not today.

Today was just for running.

Bursting forward, Harry weaved between the dark trees, the sunlight barely breaking through the foliage. Leaves that had already changed color and fallen crunched underneath his paws, and he saw glances of creatures that he had only heard of before; groups of men whose lower bodies were those of horses, glowing white unicorn herds, spiders the size of cars. He avoiding meeting all of these groups face-to-face though, he would have to ask Dumbledore the best way to greet them.

But for now, what he focused on was the burn in his four legs, the feeling of his paws pounding against the earth, and the way he was all most flying when he had to leap over something. Harry gave a long howl of pleasure, not caring who could hear him, and put on an extra burst of speed, ready to outrace all his problems.

Finally, almost two hours later, he collapsed under a tree near the edge of the forest, panting. It had felt so good just to run, but he knew he would have to go back to the castle soon since dinner would begin any minute now, and he was starving. Still, he took another moment to roll in the ground, whining in protest and stretching out his limbs.

He wished his mother could see this forest. Their forest only had the occasional giant, though they stayed up in the mountain, and a few pixie's that passed through when they were migrating somewhere warning.

Just as he was about to finally shift back to human form and make his way towards the castle, Harry paused, tilting his head. There was someone nearby - and that someone was crying. Whining in worry, the young wolf scanned the grounds of Hogwarts, sharp green eyes narrowed until they landed on the garden that rest just a few yards from Hagrid's hut, focusing on the young person that just sat next one of the large boulders nearby, small shoulders shaking as they sobbed.

Whining again, Harry trotted forward, not thinking about how it might be a bad idea to approaching a human in his wolf form. He just didn't like see anyone sad.

The girl didn't notice him even as he sat right in front of her, face hidden in her folded arms, until he started to whine, nudging her shaking arm with his nose. Her head snapped up, and a bright grey gaze met his, wide with shock. He recognized her now from the train, the one that was so afraid. Wasn't her name Regina?

Up close, he saw that she was actually kind of pretty, with warm light brown skin and chocolate hair, matched with features that reminded her of a fox. But her hair was heavy with dirt, along with one of her cheeks, stained with tears and starting to bruise.

"Oh..." Sniffling and wiping her cheek, smearing the dirt, Regina smiled at him. "Hi there, doggy." She held out her hand to him cautiously in greeting. "What are you doing out here?"

Whining again, Harry licked her hand, tasting the grime of dirt and the salty tears. Carefully, Regina stroked the top of his head, which made his tail wag, encouraging her to keep going and even give him a scratch. "You're a cutie, aren't you? Huh." She stroked the white patch of fur on his forehead, which almost mimicked his scar. "That's strange, isn't it?" She shrugged. "Huh. I wonder what your name is? Can I give you one? I've got to call you something... How about Shadow? Easy to remember, right?"

Harry licked her cheek in answer, and she laughed. "Alright then, Shadow. Are you going to stay for awhile? I don't mind."

Laying down on his stomach and resting his head on her lap, Harry let his tail swish back and forth as Regina continued to pet his head, talking softly as she did. "I don't like it here. People in my house don't like me because... well, because my mum was Muggle. And that means I'm not a Pureblood, like the rest of them." She sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "They... started teasing me, which wasn't so bad really -" she shrugged again. "I'm use to that. But then they decided to try out a charm we learned in class, and started levitating clumps of dirt to throw at me." With her free hand, she absentmindedly touched her dark cheek, and Harry almost growled when he realized how she got that bruise.

"But, still, maybe its just me. My brother's doing alright - they actually like him." She paused for a moment, earning a look from Harry. "Then again, he's not a half-blood like me." Regina shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to unload on you like that. Its been a rough week." She scratched behind his ear, and involuntarily, his leg started to shake. "You won't tell anyone though, will you?" she joked, and Harry yipped confirmation.

Both of them sat in a comfortable silence for the next ten minutes, and Harry realized it was actually kind of nice, relaxing. In fact he was so relaxed he almost didn't notice the heavy footsteps of someone approaching a few minutes later. He snapped his head up and gave a small growl of warning, ears going flat against his skull as even he recognized them by their scent.

"Miss Winters, are you doing out here?" asked Snape, hands clasped behind his back as he approached them and an eyebrow raised in confusion. "Its close to dinner time, you should be -" He stopped in front of them, frowning slowly as he took in the sight in front of him. "What is going on here?"

"P-Professor," Regina stammered. "Um..." She clasped her hands in her lap and bowed her head. "Nothing, sir."

"Do not lie to me, Winters." Kneeling in front of her and ignoring wolf-Harry, Snape took her chin and lifted it up with surprising gentleness, turning her bruise cheek towards him. "Where did you get this? This wasn't there when I saw you at class not even two hours ago."

After a long moment of silence and Snape realizing that he was not going to get an answer, he sighed and dropped his hand. "Miss Winters, if you are being bullied, you should tell me. I do not tolerate anyone bullying one of my Slytherins."

She was a Slytherin? Harry glanced at the green and silver patch on her sweater that was mostly hidden under her long hair. Oh, he didn't notice that before.

"Its nothing, sir," Regina insisted, and even Harry if hadn't just been listened to her telling him what happened he would have been able to tell she was lying horribly. "I just fell."

"Ah." Snape clearly knew she was lying, but instead of pressing her, he brought out his wand and silently started to clear away the dirt in her hair and clothes. "Well, if you ever feel like naming your attackers, or at the very least telling me the truth, you know where my office is." Dirt started to disappear from her hair, looking clean and curly. "Other then this incident, how has your first week being going?"

Regina glanced up momentarily. "I miss home," she whispered.

"Everyone misses home," answered Snape, pressing the tip of his wand to her cheek, apologizing when she winced before the bruise started to fade away. "I'm sure even your brother misses home, though I doubt he will admit that any time soon."

"He's barely talked to me since we got here," mumbled Regina. "I don't think he wants his new friends to know that he's related to someone with dirty blood."

"Your blood is not dirty," Snape said firmly, placing his wand away. "Just because your mother is Muggle doesn't mean you aren't worth of the Slytherin House."

"Everyone else seems to think so," shrugged Regina.

"They everyone else is wrong. Despite what everyone else thinks about us, we Slytherin do not - or should not - focus solely on blood purity. We are better then that." Snape stood up, hold out a hand to Regina, who waited for Harry to lift his head before taking it, letting him help her up. "Try and keep your head up, and let me know anytime if you need help."

"Yes, sir."

"Go off to dinner, I shall see you later."

Nodding, Regina gave Harry one last pat on the head. "Bye, Shadow. Hope to see you later."

Barking in return, Harry watched her leave, both him and Snape not moving or speaking until Regina was out of sight. Then the potions master looked down at him, an eyebrow raised. "Can to explain this situation to me, Mr. Potter? And don't bother trying to ignore me, Headmaster Dumbledore informed me - and all Head of Houses - of your ability to transform and your need to run in the forest. So please because a human being again and talk with me."

A few seconds later, Harry stood straight, looking up at Snape with a smile and polite nod. "Good evening, Professor Snape."

"While I appreciate the niceties, Mr. Potter, I am still looking for an explanation why you were with Miss Winters, and in your wolf form." Snape shook his head. "You should be glad that she apparently she can't tell the difference between a dog and a wolf."

"I was just coming back and I saw her crying." Harry glanced back towards the castle. "She was pretty upset. Is she going to be alright?"

Snape didn't answer right away. "I believe so," he finally said. "It might take awhile, but in the end, Miss Winters is stronger then she realizes. Stronger then her bullies." He then glared down at Harry. "I trust that you won't tell anyone about this, Mr. Potter?"

"I won't tell anyone, sir," promised Harry. "I just have one question sir. What did she mean... that she has dirty blood?"

"Miss Winters' mother was a Muggle and her father was a Pureblood," answered Snape simply. "And most Purebloods are not accepting of mixed blood. Now, its almost dinner time, so I suggest that you head back to the castle at your earliest convenience. Good night, Mr. Potter." And with that, Snape swept back towards the school, leaving Harry behind at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Sitting against the boulder, Harry sighed and tilted his head back, gazing up at the dusky sky, the moon a faint crescent glow in the sky. He wasn't sure he wanted to go back to school just yet. He didn't want to be stared at, whispered about. And for defeating a dark wizard he didn't remember, and losing parents he would never get to talk to again.

It was just like when he first arrived at the clan, only much, much again, was it really such a big deal? Just like at the clan, sooner or later the stares and whispers would have to go away, right? Something better to talk about would come up, and everyone would ignore him. Right? He really hoped they would. Just until then, he would just have to brace himself and be ready to ignore them.

When his stomach started to rumble, begging for food after his long run Harry forced himself to get up and start walking back towards the castle, glancing back towards the forest only once, already impatient for the next time he would be back.

"Hey," Neville said with a nod as Harry joined him at the Hufflepuff table. "Are you alright? You ran out pretty fast."

Shrugging, Harry gulped down a glass of water. "Sorry, I just needed to be alone for awhile," he admitted. Already he was trying not to flinch as he felt all the stares focus on him again. Just keep calm, keep calm, he repeated over in his mind.

Nodding understandingly, Neville thankfully didn't ask anymore about it. Instead talked happily about the Herbology class they had earlier in the week while Harry piled food on his plate and listened, faintly wondering about Regina the Slytherin, who he couldn't see at the table under the green and silver flag, and hoped she was alright.

Trying to distract himself, he glanced at a newspaper someone had left from breakfast, and frowned. It was talking about a break in at Gringotts that apparently happened on his birthday - something stolen from under the goblins noses while he had been there? That didn't sound good...

Getting Neville's attention, Harry pointed to the paper. "This doesn't happen often, does it? I thought Gringotts was impossible to break into?"

"It is - I've never hear anybody succeeding in breaking in." Neville scanned the newspaper. "Oh, but see here? They didn't steal anything. The vault was emptied earlier that day."

"That's convenient," mumbled Harry, staring at the picture for the article, of goblins who refused to answer any questions. What was so important that someone broke into an empty vault?