Poor Decisions

Chapter Five: New Arrangements

"Harry how could anybody … I mean, going by those ridiculous books about you …"

Hermione rambled on, still reeling from what she had overheard. They were in the library, sitting in the furthest corner between two bookshelves. Harry had long ago come to know this as a typical Hermione-ish reaction.

"Hermione, I told you before that those books were bunk," Harry sighed, trying to calm her down.

"I'm not off about those books, Harry. It's that your own family would call you a freak. I mean, it's disgusting."

Harry, ran his hands through his hair, trying to figure out how to change the subject. "Life isn't always a pretty picture, Hermione. We don't get to choose our lot."

"I just don't understand why anyone from the Ministry or Hogwarts never checked in on you."

Harry could have quickly answered this question but chose to remain silent. Sharing this knowledge with her would do nothing but raise more questions.

"I'm sorry, Harry." She reached over and placed a hand on his. "I know it must hurt. I mean, you were just—"

"It's alright … really it is. Today's a new day and I'm here, not there."

"What about when school term ends? Surely if you inform the Headmaster, he won't force you to return there."

Harry smiled, staring into the eyes of his friend. He'd forgotten how good it was to be with her without the burdens of the world upon them. She turned slightly pink under his gaze and withdrew her hand.

"Thank you for caring, Hermione. You don't know what it means to hear you say these things." This time, he reached over a placed a hand on hers, causing the pink on her cheeks to deepen. "Don't worry. I have no plans on ever returning to my aunt and uncle's home."

"What are you planning?"

"Not sure yet, but I have all year to plan and together, we'll think of something."

Before Harry could react, Hermione had lunged, smothering him in another rib-breaking hug. He didn't resist, but instead patted her on the back. He knew what it meant to her. He and Ron had been her first real friends.

That evening, Harry decided to head down to see Hagrid. Though he had yet to receive Hagrid's invitation, he knew it would be coming soon enough. Barberini's warning burned in his head, but he couldn't see how visiting early could possibly upset the future. He knocked upon the door, Hermione standing nervously beside him. Fang's booming bark alerted the world of their arrival.

"You sure this is a good idea, Harry?"

Before Harry could answer, the door swung open. A massive shadow stood in the doorway, Hagrid's face darkened by the light from the fireplace behind him.

"Harry? That you?"

"Hey, Hagrid."

"Come in! Come in!" Hagrid stepped to the side to allow them passage. "Never-mind Fang. He'll not harm ya."

Hagrid was holding the giant boarhound back by the collar, allowing them to enter.

"Hagrid, this is my friend, Hermione."

"H-Hope we're not intruding," Hermione stammered.

"Not at all. Glad to meet ya. I was about to head to the village, but I can do that tomorrow night."

Harry slapped himself across the face before he could stop himself. He had forgotten about Hagrid meeting Quirrell in the Hogs Head.

"You alright there, Harry?"

"I'm fine, Hagrid. I just, uh, realized I should have asked first."

"Never a need to ask before coming to see me. Though I wouldn't do it too close to dark. Wouldn't want ya to get in any trouble. Matter a fact, I was about to write ya and ask ya down."

Hagrid beamed at Harry and Hermione. Harry knew that Hagrid would be happy to see them, but his insides ached as he wondered how big the ripple effect would be from this mistake.

~~~Poor Decisions~~~

Vernon Dursley sat in the sitting room of Number Four, Privet Drive, glued to the television. He was watching the local news, eagerly waiting for the reporter to get to the business section of the broadcast. A new manufacturing plant was potentially moving into the area, which meant more sales for his company, Grunnings. Several sharp knocks at the front door echoed through his mind like pellets striking him in the back of the head.

"Petunia!" Vernon shouted, wheeling his head about in his chair towards the kitchen. "Someone's at the door!" Vernon waited for nearly a minute before shouting again, "Petunia!"

When Petunia didn't respond, Vernon grumbled loudly as he lumbered out of his chair and towards the front door. Several sharper knocks echoed in the hallway causing Vernon to grumble something inaudible even louder as he grabbed the door latch and wrenched the door open. Immediately, he took a step backwards as a tall black-haired man wearing black robes and a nasty grin stood sentient before him.

"I am here to see Mrs. Petunia Dursley," the man said silkily. "Is she home?"

Vernon quickly regained his composure. "Who the bloody hell are you? You're dressed like—" At the look on the man's face, Vernon fell short of expressing what the man was dressed like.

"My name is Severus Snape. Now, I presume that you're her husband. That stated, is your wife at home?"

Without waiting for a response, Snape swept across the threshold and closed the door behind him. Vernon nearly fell backwards as Snape withdrew his wand.

"I knew it!" Vernon breathed, his back falling flat against the wall. "You're one of them! Get out of my house at once!"

"Vernon, what's going—" Petunia began, hurrying into the hallway before screaming.

"Good to see you too, Petunia." Snape sneered.

"What are you doing here?" she gasped, clutching her chest with her hands.

"I'm here to discuss your nephew, Harry, and how he is being treated in this hovel you call a home." Venom dripped from Snape's voice.

At this, Vernon turned blood red. "It's none of your bloody business how we treat him!"

"I disagree," Snape sighed silkily, pointing his wand at the large man. "You see, I believe that you and your pathetic excuse for a human being you call a wife treat Harry as less than human because of his mother, Lily."

"We never asked to be saddled with the freak!" Vernon roared. "He was thrust upon us by that Dumbledore fellow and told that we would be in danger if we didn't allow him to stay!"

"Lucky you, then," Snape cooed, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm here to inform you that Harry will not be returning here ever again. As for your protection, I couldn't care less what becomes of your family. I shall collect his things and be gone, or do you wish to stop me?"

Snape looked between Vernon and Petunia, waiting for their response.

"Take his things and go," Vernon hissed. "Good riddance. Why I ever put up with this nonsense, I'll never know."

Snape's mouth curled. "Which room is his?"

"Room?" Petunia repeated, swallowing. "He didn't have his own room."

"Where then did he stay?"

"I-I-In the cupboard under the stairs."

Snape fixed Petunia with a cold glare that rooted her to the spot. His wand twitched in his hand, drawing Vernon's beady eyes. "How fortunate for you that I have changed, Petunia. Years ago, you and your lard filled husband would no longer be breathing. Today, I take what little Harry owns with me and leave you with the worst curse I can. Each other."

Snape swept past the two trembling Dursleys and opened the cupboard to behold a truly pitiful sight. Waving his wand, he gathered up all that he saw within, shrunk it down and placed it inside a bag smaller than a purse. He stuffed the bag back inside his robes, then swept out of the house without a backwards glance.

~~~Poor Decisions~~~

When Snape flooed into his office from the Leaky Cauldron, he wasn't surprised to find Dumbledore waiting for him.

"Evening, Severus."

"Evening, Dumbledore. May I ask why you are in my office?"

"I came down to continue our discussion that we had begun in my office, Severus. Imagine my surprise to find your office empty and your floo active. Naturally, I sampled the floo to see where you had went and my astonishment to see that your destination was the Leaky Cauldron."

"If I wish to visit London, Headmaster, it's perfectly within my rights." Snape made his way around to his desk and took a seat. He motioned for Dumbledore to join him.

"I agree, Severus. My problem is your destination within the London Muggle suburbs."

Snape shook his head and snorted. "Should have known that you would have placed sensory charms about the house."

"Only for the boy's protection."

"Again, Dumbledore, we disagree. For if you were interested in Harry's protection, you would have removed him from the painful and abusive home. Instead, you chose to leave him there to live under their stairs. House-elves live a better existence!"

"Yes, many do." Dumbledore rubbed his crooked nose. "I can assure you that after this year, his living conditions shall improve."

"I agree … starting with his removal from his aunt and uncle's home."

"That is not negotiable, Severus. The boy must remain there."

A smile curved Snape's face. "I'm afraid, Headmaster, that is no longer an option."

"What have you done, Severus?"

"I've removed all of his belongings, as little as he had, from the home. The Ministry received an anonymous tip that Harry Potter was being mistreated by his Muggle relatives." The look of awe broadened Snape's smile. "The Ministry has already deployed a team to investigate. By now, the memories of Petunia and her overweight husband have been collected and sorted."

Dumbledore closed his piercing blue eyes and leaned his head back. "Why have you done this, Severus?"

"I've given you my reasons, Dumbledore. Now, why don't you give me the real reasons why you chose to place the most famous wizard child to ever live in the hands of those pathetic excuse of Muggles?"

"Blood wards are the most powerful protection spells in all the Wizarding world. Lord Voldemort isn't gone. He's close to returning and any faithful follower would desire to find favor by killing Harry."

"You would have me believe that no wizarding family could protect Harry Potter from the Dark Lord's remaining followers? You truly take me for a fool!"

"No Severus, I don't. I did believe that you were more trustworthy."

"Wish for me to step down as Potions Master? Going to attempt to send me to Azkaban? Planning to obliviate me?" Snape rose slightly from his chair, leaning on his desk.

"Please sit down, Severus." Dumbledore rubbed his forehead. "I have no intentions of the sort. Unfortunately, now you've left me with a terrible issue. If the Ministry is involved, I must act quickly to find Harry another home before the Ministry do."

"Too late, Dumbledore. I've already found Harry a family that is more than happy to take him in."

"Who?" Dumbledore demanded, standing up.

"Andromeda and Ted Tonks."

~~~Poor Decisions~~~

Friday morning arrived, and Harry felt anything but ready to face his first day with the Slytherins and Snape in the dungeons. He wondered what difference, if any, his conversation with Snape might have on the day. Had he been convincing? He had been honest, but would it be enough to sway the Potions Master? He found himself lost in his thoughts and missed Hermione enter the common room.

"Ready for breakfast?"

Harry looked up lost, finding the chocolate-brown eyes of his best friend studying him as though she were preparing for a test.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah … I'm fine. Just remembering something."

"Going over what Professor McGonagall said in Transfigurations?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry lied.

"Oh, I was too all night. No worries, though. She won't really expect us to get it right for at least another month."

"You nearly mastered it in the first class," Harry retorted, standing up and grabbing his satchel.

Hermione scoffed, "Hardly. It's really difficult. Of course, I've already read our text book twice and I think I've just about got the theory down."

"When have you had time to read the whole text book?"

Harry turned to see Ron standing in front of them with Dean. "She doesn't spend her free time eating. Put down a tart and you might have time to pick up a book."

Harry cursed himself the moment he finished. He was going to have to get control of his anger if he was to be successful.

"Sod off, golden boy," Ron snapped. "I wasn't talking to you."

Harry watched as Ron and Dean left through the portrait hole.

"I don't think he meant anything by it, Harry. I think he's just trying to make conversation."

Harry swallowed. "Sorry. He just reminds me of someone and I get angry before I can stop myself."

"I'll try to help you, okay?"

Harry looked round at his bushy-haired friend and smiled. If she only knew what her friendship meant to him.

"You guys headed down to breakfast?" Neville had just come down from the boys' dorms, his round face unable to mask his awkward feelings.

"Absolutely. How's your first week been?"

Neville beamed at them. "Truthfully, better than I expected."

Hermione gave Harry a nod of approval before looking quickly away. He bit the inside of his lip and frowned. Something's off. They made their way out of the common room, headed for the Great Hall, and Harry watched Hermione carefully. The old Auror had awaken and was screaming in his ears.

His apprehensions eased as they finished breakfast, heading for their first classes. Just your emotions getting to you, he convinced himself. Gotta pull it together. Potions is today.

By the time that Potions came around, Harry found himself focused and ready for whatever laid beyond the door to his most dreaded class. He, Neville and Hermione entered the dimly lit classroom together, finding a table towards the front. Seamus, Dean and Ron took the table directly behind them. The Slytherins filed in, filling the tables to their left. Draco nodded in Harry's direction, earning Harry a scowl from Ron. Harry sighed, rubbing his temple and focusing on the task at hand—surviving his first Potions class.

Professor Snape swooped into the room, marching directly down the center isle and reaching the front, his cloak billowing about him.

"Please put your wands away. There will be little foolish wand-waving in my class."

At that moment, Harry noticed that Hermione didn't have her wand drawn. He didn't either, but he was used to Snape's class and knew what to expect. He looked about and sure enough, everyone else were pocketing their wands. Hermione shot Harry an odd look as well, reigniting the old Auror inside his head.

"In my class I will attempt to teach you how to master the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. Though I doubt that many of you will ever truly grasp even the fundamentals, there may be some within here with the talent to become more."

Harry watched as Snape's gaze fell to Draco, then surprisingly to him. The scariest moment was when he thought he saw a smile flash across the Potion Master's face. As fast as it had appeared though, it had vanished.

"Something wrong, Ms. Granger?"

Harry looked over to see Hermione looking nervously up at Snape.

"Has something I've said shocked you? Are you just now coming to grips with what will be expected of you in this class?"

"No, sir," Hermione replied politely.

Snape snorted before returning his attention to the whole class. "For those that possess the talents, that comprehend the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, that appreciate the delicate power of liquids creeping through human veins, bewitching the minds and ensnaring the senses … I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory and even stopper death."

Neville looked as though Snape had petrified him, while Hermione looked … calm. Almost bored. An odd feeling fell over Harry. Though Barberini had warned him not to make too many changes, he decided to see if his instincts were correct. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand.

"Mr. Potter?"

"Um, sir, I was reading over my text book and it mentions that a bezoar is a cure for most poisons … but it doesn't mention where to find one."

Snape's eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "Afraid someone is going to poison you, Mr. Potter?"

Several students sniggered but were silenced by a single glare from the Potions Master.

"No, sir, but a wrongly brewed potion can be poisonous—"

"Mr. Potter let me assure you that no one will be accidentally poisoned in my classroom." A curt smile curved his face. "However, you are correct. Your text book does not cover where to obtain a bezoar. They are a stone found in the stomach of a goat and can cure most poisons if swallowed by the victim. I keep a small supply in my personal stores. Five points to Gryffindor for thinking ahead."

Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Hermione looking at him as though he had two heads. Something is definitely off.

They began to take notes, then the three grouped together to work on their first potion. They were working away when a memory shot to the forefront of Harry's brain. It was the image of Neville being covered in boils and Seamus' cauldron melting.

"Neville, remember not to add the porcupine quills until after we remove the cauldron from the fire."

Neville quickly set a handful of the quills down on the table. "Thanks, Harry. I was about to add them. Good thing you saw me pick them up!"

"Yeah … a real good thing," Hermione muttered, looking at Harry strangely.

Harry smiled at her but ignored the way she looked at him. The class proceeded forward, and he found it to be one of the best experiences he ever had in Snape's class—until the end. He was helping clear away their things when Snape motioned him forward.

"Mr. Potter, you are to see the Headmaster this afternoon."

"Have I done something wrong, sir?"

"No, Mr. Potter. I was asked by the Headmaster to inform you of his request. He will expect you at three o'clock. Follow these instructions." Snape handed him a rolled-up parchment.

"Thank you, sir."

"Good day, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded, then grabbed his satchel and headed off towards the door where Hermione and Neville waited for him. He didn't stop, but smiled as he passed, his two friends hurrying to catch up.

"What did Professor Snape want?" Hermione sounded highly curious.

"He had a message for me from the Headmaster."

"What?"

Harry stopped at the top of the stairs. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Well, I mean, shouldn't our Head of House deliver messages to us from the Headmaster? And why on earth would he send you a message?"

"Two questions I will make sure to ask him when I see him."

Neville stared at Harry in awe. "See him? Blimey, Harry. First Professor Snape and now the Headmaster himself. I almost passed out when Snape looked at our table!"

"When you've lived my life, Neville, you learn not to let grown-ups know they intimidate you."

Hermione was squinting at him as though he was an interesting specimen under a microscope.

"Something wrong, Hermione?"

"Me? Uh, no. Sorry. Just trying to remember something."

"When are you going to see the Headmaster?" Harry could tell that Neville was envisioning what such an event would be like.

"Professor Snape said that the Headmaster wished to see me at three today. The instructions are on this parchment." Harry held up the roll for Neville to see.

"Wicked," Neville breathed.

Harry expected Hermione to race off on one of her patented rants, analyzing every probable reason as to why Professor Dumbledore would want to see him. Instead, she simply suggested that they head to lunch. He knew that things were changing, but his mind kept swinging back to the common room password. Why had it changed? Why was Hermione acting differently? What else was different?

A small pang in his stomach told him that he would probably find his answers sooner than he expected or wanted.

A/N: Greetings everyone. Hope you enjoyed the update, co-written by me and my son. Special thanks to Critters At Play for being beta. All mistakes are his! ;) Please review and let us know what you think. The next chapter is on the way. Should be up in a week or so.