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Chapter Nineteen—Ice

"Mr. Potter, would you mind coming up here to help me with the reenactment?"

Felix concealed a grimace as he stood up. So far, he hadn't found a way to make Lockhart back off asking him to participate in enacting scenes from his books. Snapping at the git got him in detentions for cheek to a professor, and asking politely just made Lockhart think Felix was asking for advice on "how to manage his fame." If he never had to suffer through another horrific conversation like that one, Felix could die happy.

Well, no, you won't. Not unless you find out the truth of what's in that book, and why Mum and Dad had your birth certificates locked up, and why they abandoned Harry at the Dursleys'.

Felix was so busy thinking that he'd missed all of Lockhart's instructions about what to do. Therefore, when Lockhart flourished his wand at Felix and announced, "Wagga-Wagga!" in a loud voice, Felix snatched his own wand up and used an Expelliarmus before he thought about it.

Lockhart's wand went flying out the window, much the way it had in the first class when a pixie tossed it, and several people laughed.

"Now, now, Felix, that's not what I asked you to do!" Lockhart said, wagging a finger at him and going over to the window. He reached through as if he thought his wand would be lying right below, then clucked his tongue when it wasn't. "I do appreciate your enthusiasm for the part, but maybe being the Wagga-Wagga Werewolf is a job for a more thoughtful student…"

Felix escaped back to his seat with a sigh of relief that he didn't bother hiding. Ron leaned over and nudged him in the side. "Wagga-wagga!" he whispered, nearly choking on laughter.

Felix shoved him hard enough for them both to fall out of their seats.

"You drive me mad sometimes, you know."

"Feel free to stop coming around any time," Harry muttered, concentrating on the potions essay in front of him. Well, you would probably think that he was concentrating on that if you didn't notice the essay floating an inch or so above the desk.

"You don't mean that."

Harry sighed and looked as Theo set his books down on the table next to him. "No, of course I don't," he murmured. Theo's heart still lightened at the way Harry focused on him. "But why do I drive you mad? You're picking up on the elemental magic well, and you still know more about me than anyone else."

Theo grimaced. He had half-hoped that he would be able to have a conversation with Harry without bringing up the obvious himself, but no, that was a futile hope. Harry simply didn't care about this at all.

Which was the precise reason that he drove Theo mad.

"Your marks," Theo said, leaning forwards once he'd cast a small Privacy Charm. It could be broken, but Theo would notice if that happened. "You should do better with them."

Harry blinked at him. "Why?"

"This is why you drive me mad."

"I just don't see why they matter. I'll have to know how to do certain things in the future, but everything that's been useful so far, I've learned outside of class."

"You…" Theo trailed off as he thought about it, and didn't spit out the angry things he might have said with other people. Harry had never been encouraged, the way Theo had been and Felix certainly had, to think about making something of himself, of succeeding in life. His awful relatives couldn't have said anything like that. He hadn't known he had parents to make proud. And he kept thinking of survival before anything else.

"You said something about wanting to be a Dragon-Keeper," Theo said at last. "Don't you think that it would be good to make good marks in classes that connect to knowledge about them?"

"I'm too young for Care of Magical Creatures. And I asked Ron. He said his brother Charlie didn't earn NEWTS in anything like that except for Care. He just fucked off to the Romanian reserve to study dragons when people wanted him to do something else."

"You said fucked off!"

"Does it bother you? Then I won't."

Theo shook his head. He didn't even know how to explain to himself the sharp joy running through him, let alone explain it to Harry. "No, it's fine. But you could plan for more of a career than that. I asked my father, and he said that Dragon-Keepers are more valued now if they have several NEWTS, including ones relating to Herbology and Potions. They need to be able to take care of the dragons if they get sick, too, you know, and deal with the magical plants that might invade the reserves."

Harry stared at him in silence. Theo didn't know why until he asked, "You told your father about my ambitions?"

"I didn't reveal your Parseltongue, you paranoid git," Theo snapped, and thumped a book on the table a little harder than he needed to. "I told him that I'd heard you didn't need NEWTS to be a Dragon-Keeper, and gave him the example of Weasley's brother. I hinted that I might want to look into it."

"But you don't."

"I hinted. That's the kind of thing that it's hard to identify as a complete lie or a complete truth. And Father wants the best for me. So he gave me the best advice, the kind of thing that would make me well-regarded if I decided to become a Dragon-Keeper. And the kind of thing that would make you well-regarded, too."

Harry calmed down and sighed. "Sorry, Theo. I just—"

"Don't want anyone else finding out about this, yes, I know." Even if Theo thought Harry should tell them just to make their jaws fall open and his parents apologize for the way they'd treated him. "But I think that you could do better if you made better marks. At the very least, get some of the professors on your side."

"What do you think would happen if I did?"

Theo studied him, but Harry had lowered his floating essay to rest on the table and was watching Theo with calm, clear eyes. Theo didn't think it had been a trick question. "The professors could speak about what a good student you were," Theo said slowly. "Advocate for you to your family, in ways that my father can't without revealing our connection. Make your family respect you. Maybe future employees as well."

"I've given up on impressing my parents," Harry said, lowering his voice despite Theo's Privacy Charm. He really was the most paranoid person that Theo had ever met, but he had the most impressive secrets, too. "When they sent me back to the Dursleys despite knowing how awful things were for me there, it was the last straw."

"Then do it for yourself and your future career. And things might be easier at least for now if you acted like you cared about impressing them."

Harry shrugged. "I could always go back and take my NEWTS after leaving Hogwarts, if they turned out to matter." His voice said he wasn't convinced they did. "In the meantime, I take only as much time as I need to to finish the essays. And you know why practicing the spells more wouldn't do me much good."

Because he can't do it the easy way. He has to shape his elemental magic to imitate the spells. Theo nodded. He did know that. "I just…"

"What?"

"You're smart, and people act like you're not. I heard Granger saying something about it the other day. How she's worried for you when we start the higher-level classes next year, because you're such a poor student and she's worried that you'll fall behind."
"Let her keep thinking that. She can tutor me, or think she is. It keeps her busy and happy and makes her easier to get along with."

"You are such a Slytherin."

Harry's smile was fleeting and small. "I think people put too much stock in the traits of the Houses. Now, how much of a git do you think Snape is going to keep being to me?"

The Potter boy was infuriating.

The younger one was merely exasperating. Severus had seen him several times over the years leading up to Hogwarts, and certainly hadn't been able to escape the newspaper articles talking about him. But he was what Severus had expected: brash, prone to talking back, able to scrape an Acceptable in Potions when he tried but more motivated in glaring at Severus than applying the skills of his memory to the potion in question.

The elder one just watched Severus. All the time. He was a weak wizard, there was no question of that, but he, again, could have done better than he did. He wasn't brash. He didn't talk back, most of the time. He was an empty shell who stared and stared and stared and watched Severus more than his potion and didn't care about the detentions and points losses that Severus assigned him.

He showed up and served the detentions. That was the only thing Severus had managed to extract from him. He had watched the boy when other Gryffindors groaned about the points losses, and the boy apologized only enough to make them stop complaining. Severus was convinced the brat felt nothing of the sort.

Severus could not make Harry Potter lament anything. And it was driving him mental.

He had tried separating Potter and Nott in Potions. Nott would be a far more capable student if he stopped acting as though Potter was the center of his brewing universe. But even when he did that, Nott never turned in a brew worth more than an Exceeds Expectations because he would be trying to pay as much attention to Potter as possible. And the next class, they simply sat at the same table again, as if the past class had never happened.

So Severus planned a test. One that would force the Nott boy to see how weak the Potter boy was, how much of a liability.

Then Severus could stop watching another Slytherin futilely trying to follow the path of friendship with a Gryffindor, and have some peace in his own classes.

"Mr. Nott. You will be brewing with Mr. Potter today."

Theo twitched, probably because he and Harry were already sitting together. He glanced at Harry. Harry just tilted his head and one shoulder. If Snape wanted to make their lives easier, they shouldn't argue.

"Yes, Professor," Theo murmured, and got out his knife and two vials.

"Mr. Potter." Snape turned and swooped at him. Harry watched him. Yes, Snape was sort of intimidating, but all Harry had to remember was the way that he had cursed Snape into doing what he wanted last year, and any worry left. "You will be in charge of practical ingredients preparation for this session. Mr. Nott will direct you."

On the other side of the classroom, Felix was puffing up like a toad with indignation. Harry caught his eye and made a pushing motion with one hand down at the table. Luckily, by the time Snape turned around, Felix had gone back to dicing slugs and muttering about it.

"And no collaboration with anyone else," Snape said softly, leaning in until his nose almost touched Harry's, "twin brother or not. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape always got so upset about his quiet respectful words, Harry thought, as he watched Snape's pale face twist in a scowl. Maybe he could tell there was nothing behind them. "You will do your best not to be a liability to Mr. Nott, Mr. Potter," Snape hissed. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

Theo looked as though he would happily stab Snape in the back with his potions knife. Harry caught his eye and said nothing, but that was enough for Theo. Harry arranged the slugs, lilac flowers, and other things in front of him as Snape flew away to bother someone else.

"Go ahead and slice up the slugs in thin, even slices, about a quarter of an inch long," Theo murmured, leaning towards him.

Harry nodded and did it, watching Snape out of the corner of his eye as he sneered at Neville. Neville hunched his shoulders and ducked down behind his cauldron. Harry's eyes narrowed in turn.

"Longbottom has to learn to stand up for himself sooner or later."

"Or Snape has to learn not to bully him."

Theo paused, staring at him across the table. "What are you doing now?"

The words caught Snape's attention, and he swooped across the room and down on Harry. Harry looked up at him with eyes that he knew were even emptier than usual. He could feel the breath in Snape's lungs, the same air that he had been using to help him scold Neville a few minutes ago.

"Harry," Theo breathed.

"You are being a liability to Mr. Nott, are you not, Harry?" Snape hissed, and bent towards him. Harry thought about how easy it would be to light his hair on fire, blister his skin with heat, freeze the water in his cells, make him stop breathing. "You do not know what you are doing, you refuse to study, you are incredibly childish—"

He needs something else to think about.

Harry let the rest of the words flow over him, because they didn't really matter, anyway. He knew Theo said that a good Potions mark would help him get a Dragon-Keeper job, but to succeed in this class, where Snape's ridiculous favoritism mattered more than anything else? It wouldn't help him.

So he waited until the end of Snape's little spittle-flecked speech, which seemed to contain something about the word "detention," and then reached out and coalesced the water in Snape's mouth into ice, which he hammered through his tongue.

Snape shrieked and flailed back, one hand rising to touch his mouth, the other going for his wand. Everyone else in the classroom stared. Theo was looking at Harry, and so were some other people, but Theo was the only one doing it with fear and knowledge in his eyes.

That fear was what made Harry vanish the ice spike. He glanced down at his potion, or rather the cauldron empty of anything but water, and took a deep breath. Theo didn't say anything, just kept looking at him.

Snape rounded on Harry with the most furious look Harry had seen on his face. Well, no, the one when he had seen the dragon was worse. "Mr. Potter," he hissed. "What did you do?"

"I don't know, Professor," Harry said, because, really, it was true. He'd reacted violently when he didn't have much of a reason to. It wasn't like Snape would stop bullying Neville because Harry had hurt him. He probably wouldn't do it even if Neville's family descended on Hogwarts. That wasn't the kind of idiot he was. And Harry didn't care about the way that Snape bullied him in particular. Driving a spike of ice through Snape's tongue had been a stupid thing to do, because it stood no chance of making his point.

"I know that you have wandless magic," Snape continued in a low voice. One trembling hand caressed his jaw. "And we will be going to the Headmaster's office and summoning your parents. With any luck, you will not be in detention until your seventh year, but only because you will be expelled."

"Sir," Felix said, with so much contempt in his voice that it was obvious to anyone who listened how little he respected Snape. "What proof do you have that Harry did any of this? What even happened?"

Snape whipped around and snapped, "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter!" He raked the rest of the class with a glance so sharp that Hermione dropped something on the floor and Neville ducked down beneath the table. "Class is dismissed. Write a two—no, a three-foot essay on the importance of respecting your professors, due on Friday! Class dismissed!" He glared at Harry and gestured for him to follow.

People scrambled to pack up their cauldrons, glaring at Harry the entire time. Harry stared back, entirely unimpressed. They were upset with him, not with Snape for punishing the whole class. Yeah, that matched his impressions of children from his primary school.

Well, he didn't need them to be impressed with him or think well of him. He had Theo and Felix, Blaise and the twins, and it was enough.

And maybe they would expel him today. Maybe he would go back to the Potters' and wait until the first time they didn't pay attention to him, and then it would be away to find Remus Lupin or a dragon reserve.

The only thing he would regret was leaving his friends behind.

Lily clenched her shaking hands in front of her before she went into the Floo. She could not show weakness, not in front of Severus, and not in front of Albus.

And not in front of this strange child of hers, whom she could barely stand to look in the eyes.

She stepped out of the fireplace into Albus's office and gave the Headmaster a shaky smile. James stepped out behind her, putting one hand on her shoulder. He did that all the time around Severus. It was the kind of childish, possessive maleness that Lily just had to ignore. "Good afternoon, Headmaster."

"Good afternoon, Lily." Albus's eyes were dim, and he gestured her to one of the visitors' chairs with a heavy hand. "If you could sit down? There is a matter between Professor Snape and young Harry that we must resolve."

All he had said through the fire was the same thing. Lily didn't know what had happened. She nodded, though, and sat down, because what else could she do? James sat next to her and took her hand.

Lily finally looked back at Harry, who was sitting in a chair between theirs and Albus's desk. Severus was standing in front of Harry, glaring down with his arms folded. His face was dark red in a way Lily hadn't seen it be since the day when their friendship had ruptured for good.

Harry stared back at them with shadowed eyes. But empty eyes, too. If it had been Felix in this situation, he would either have been apologetic, if he thought he'd really done something wrong, or furious and defiant. Harry didn't look as if he felt anything in particular.

As though he opened a valve in his heart and drained all the emotion out, Lily thought, not for the first time.

It was never easy to face him. And it wasn't his fault. Lily had to admit that she and James and Albus, and to a lesser extent Sirius, had all taken a step back emotionally from Harry the moment they'd heard the prophecy. It was easier for Albus, since he wasn't really involved with Harry in day-to-day life, but it had been agonizing for Lily. To know that her baby, her son, was going to die at the hands of a murderous madman? She had alternated days of grim research with days of holding Harry close and listening to his heartbeat with tears creeping down her face.

But it had ended up being the same as if he'd had a deadly disease that no treatment could help. They could be there for him, but they couldn't help him. And at least they had known that if Harry had to die, Voldemort would fall with him. They would lose their little boy, but a threat to the entire world would be gone at the same time.

And then…

Harry had lived. And Felix had lived, too. Lily sometimes thought she still wasn't over the surprise of that, the shock of looking at even just her younger son and feeling it thunder through her body when she'd come into that room and seen him wailing on the floor.

They'd sent Harry away. It had been the wrong decision, Lily thought now, but they couldn't have made a right one at the time. The Dark magic that built between Harry and Felix meant they couldn't keep him with them if they wanted Felix to live. And they did want him to live, so much, their unexpected miracle, the son who had had even less chance of surving Voldemort's attack than Harry had.

And she hadn't connected emotionally with Harry again after the attack, even though she had assumed she would. That step she'd taken back couldn't be reversed. Harry was a stranger to her after he'd survived the prophecy. She had prepared herself to accept her dead son, not her living one.

How much more so now? she thought, swallowing as she met Harry's dead eyes. When he's come back to us possessed of some odd kind of magic?

Or just possessed.

It was a thought she had had more than once, but Albus had assured them he'd checked for Voldemort's spirit possessing Harry and found nothing. Lily supposed she would have to live with that.

"Earlier in class today," Severus began, his voice trembling a little with passion, "I told Potter to work with young Mr. Nott, preparing the ingredients and following Mr. Nott's instructions, to ensure he could not cheat. He responded to me with cheek, and a few minutes later I heard Mr. Nott ask him what he was doing. I went over to make sure he was following my directions, and assigned him detention when he did nothing but stare at me. Then he attacked me."

"What did he do?" James was leaning forwards, and from the expression on his face, Lily knew he was a few minutes away from using the name "Snivellus." She pressed her foot down on top of his and gave him a warning look.

"Used his wandless magic to attack me! It felt like the Tongue-Puncturing Curse!"

"Why am I not surprised you know that one, Sn—"

Lily intervened hastily. "Harry, did you use the Tongue-Puncturing Curse on Professor Snape?"

"No, Mother."

Lily slumped back a little in relief, but Albus sighed softly and said, "Did you will the effect of the curse to occur, Harry? I know that you have wild magic, and that means that you might have imitated the effect without knowing the name of the spell."

"No, sir."

Lily flicked a glance at Albus. Albus shook his head a little, looking mystified. No, Harry hadn't lied.

"I am not lying!" That was Severus, spittle touching the edges of his words. "If you think that I will accept this child back in my class—"

"No," Albus said quietly. "That would be quite unreasonable, of course. I will remove Mr. Potter from your Potions course, Severus. I will be tutoring him in the art myself. I probably should have taken a stronger hand in his education last year, when I realized that his problems in wild magic were persisting. My apologies, to all in this room, that I did not do so."

Harry looked up for a second. His eyes had an expression in them, but Lily couldn't place it. A second later, he looked back at his hands.

"This sounds like a reward, Headmaster, rather than a punishment."

"I will not be expelling him from the school, Severus, even though I know you would prefer that. I will indeed give him detention, and impress upon him that it is unacceptable to attack others with his wild magic, no matter the provocation."

Lily relaxed a little. At least that would mean Harry would be under Albus's supervision, and Albus would have the ability to test him for his power and restrain it if necessary. And perhaps figure out a way for Harry to direct his energy other than hurting people, and other than politics, which his illness made him useless in.

"I insist that the detention I originally assigned before the attack stand!"

"Well, that would be fair, Severus. What is it?"

"Detention every Friday and Saturday night from eight to eleven for the rest of the term," Severus snapped. "And I insist on supervising them."

"That makes no sense," Lily said. She ignored the sidelong, burning glance that Severus gave her, and the way that James tried to step on her foot in return. "Why would you want to do that when Harry attacked you right after?"

"Yes, I must agree, Severus," Albus said. "And detentions for so long and for so many nights seem unwarranted for a bit of disrespect in class. I will supervise detentions on Friday and Saturday nights for a fortnight." He turned to Harry. "Please come to my office at eight-o'clock on Friday evening, Harry."

"Yes, sir."

Lily looked into Harry's eyes, looking for something. Hatred, outrage, guilt, awareness that Albus was honoring Harry by taking time out of his incredibly busy schedule to supervise detentions. But there was nothing there.

She wondered, wearily, when anything ever would be, if the kind of childhood he'd had couldn't even put anything there. She could have dealt with a child who yelled and screamed and asked for explanations.

Not one who just sat there and let everything wash around him, like a…a piece of ice.

Harry stood outside the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. Snape had left some minutes before with a glare over his shoulder. Dumbledore had kept Harry there, along with the Potters, to explain carefully to Harry what a great opportunity this was, and how Harry shouldn't waste it, and how they would tame his wild magic one way or another.

Harry had nodded and murmured his completely insincere thanks. He had thought and thought, and now he was alone in the corridor with his thoughts, which were louder when they were ricocheting around his head.

They never asked what I actually did. What I actually said. For my perspective. They never thought that I might have an opinion about being removed from Potions. They talked past me like I was a dog who couldn't understand them.

It didn't hurt, not exactly. The part of Harry that could feel this deeply about something that his parents had done had broken at the end of last term. But he did shake his head as he imagined the gulf that stretched between him and them, and that they had no conception of its even existing.

"Harry?"

It was Blaise, peering around the nearest corner. He saw Harry and half-nodded. "Theo wanted to come, but he was worried about making Snape angrier at you if he saw," Blaise murmured, leaning back against the wall. "Snape doesn't know you and I are friends."

It soothed something in Harry to know that Blaise saw them as friends, too, and not Harry as just someone he could take advantage of or learn from. He half-nodded back. "They've taken me out of Potions classes. Dumbledore is going to teach those personally to me from now on."

Blaise stared at him. "I mean, hexing a teacher is bad, but…"

"It's an excuse to keep a closer eye on me. He's worried about my wild magic getting out of control and hurting someone else, although he didn't phrase it exactly that way. He and the Potters were talking about what a great chance it would be for me to learn something from the Headmaster."

"Ah." Blaise's face became set and grim. "Well, I suppose that you can only learn as much as you can, and maybe Snape will be more bearable this way and give you fewer detentions." His eyes darted around to the portraits on the walls.

Harry understood. Blaise wouldn't say what he really thought with potential eavesdroppers. He shrugged lightly. "I can't learn fewer things from the Headmaster than from Snape."

"True enough. I'm sorry, though."

It was the first time anyone had said it to him since the incident in Potions. Harry found himself taking a breath that didn't feel as if it was dragging something heavy along with it for the first time since then, and nodding to Blaise. "Thanks."

Blaise nodded back. Both of them knew that Harry was regretting the lost chance to interact with Theo more than anything else. Defense was the only other class that the Gryffindors had with the Slytherins, and Lockhart was so ridiculous in it and so insistent on people paying attention to him that it was difficult to talk there.

"Don't be a stranger," Blaise said, and smiled at Harry before he left.

Harry stood there and breathed for a few minutes more before he went back to Gryffindor Tower.

"It's so fucking stupid!"

"Language, Felix!"

Felix glowered at Hermione and stomped around the common room again. A lot of people were watching them, just because any drama with the Boy-Who-Lived was a good thing to some people, even if it mostly involved his brother, Felix thought sourly. He'd put up a Privacy Charm, but it was the sort that broke if someone was too loud, and the things Harry was telling him deserved to be yelled about.

"They never even asked you your side?" he demanded again, turning to Harry, who was sitting on the couch behind him. "They never even asked you what you'd done to Snape and why?"

Harry just shook his head. Felix hated the closed-in expression on his face, but he understood why Harry didn't want to show anything in front of the others. Felix trusted Ron and Dean, but Harry didn't, and much the same was true of Hermione. The others were outside their immediate circle and even more likely to be gawkers.

"Fuck," Felix said again.

"Felix!"

Ugh. Felix liked Hermione, he really did, but her least likeable moods were the ones like this when she wanted to lecture everyone about everything. He flung himself onto the couch beside Harry, and got a reaction from him since the first time when he'd told Felix about what had happened with him being taken out of Snape's classes. Harry blinked at him.

Felix looked back at him and mouthed, It's bollocks.

Harry paused, and then he smiled a little. He reached out and tapped Felix on the shoulder. Felix leaned his shoulder against his brother's and then turned to face Hermione, who was on her feet and glaring at both of them.

"This is a good opportunity for Harry," Hermione said firmly. "He's going to learn from Professor Dumbledore himself.And Professor Dumbledore is a great alchemist, which by definition means he's a great at Potions. He can teach you so much, Harry! I would go to him and ask him to teach me, too, but I know he's busy and he can't take time out of his schedule for more than one student."

Harry's lip curled a little. Only because he was getting so used to watching his twin could Felix see it. To everyone else—to Hermione—it would probably look like he was just sitting there and listening and not feeling much of anything.

"And Professor Snape shouldn't have yelled at you, but he's right not to want a student hexing teachers. And if it was your wild magic getting out of control, then you do need help in getting it under control. Sooner rather than later." Hermione nodded and crossed her arms. "I'm just glad that Professor Dumbledore instead of Professor Snape will be supervising your detentions. Neither of you need to be alone with each other right now."

"Maybe you're right, Hermione."

Harry's voice was calm. Well, calm was one way to think of it, Felix thought. You could also call it bored. Icy. He just nodded and listened as Hermione began yet another explanation of how lucky Harry was to be taken out of his Potions classes.

Felix watched and thought that Mum and Dad were idiots, and Professor Dumbledore might not be an idiot but he was less smart than everyone thought he was. And Snape was an idiot and a wanker, but they'd already known that.

And Harry was dangerous, and everyone was lucky that he wasn't more dangerous than he was.

What were the punishments in your day for a student who hexed teachers?

While he waited for Tom Riddle to respond, Harry lay on his bed and wrote a letter to Theo. Felix would take it and send it with Hedwig if Harry asked him. Theo deserved to know what had happened, and Harry didn't actually care about what Snape said or did to him, but the retaliation Snape might take out on a member of his House he knew to be friendly with Harry obviously concerned Theo.

The black writing scratching into being across the pages alerted Harry, and he rolled over and looked down at the diary.

I never heard of such a thing happening, except accidentally when a professor intervened in a duel between two students. Why did you hex one?

He was being impatient and assigning me detention for something that wasn't my fault. Harry already knew that Riddle wasn't the sort of person who would understand Harry wanting to stick up for another student. As a result, I'm being removed from the class on the professor's insistence. Dumbledore will teach me Potions personally. Maybe other things.

Riddle was slower to respond this time. Harry had actually gone down to Felix in the common room with the letter and come back before the reply appeared.

I've never heard of that, either. The words came into being slowly, writhing across the paper like dragons' tails. Who are you? What's so special about you?

I don't know why you keep fishing for things you're not going to get, Tom.

I can't feel your magic. I thought you might be a Squib, but you're a student in Hogwarts, and I don't think you're lying about that…who are you? Haven't I earned at least that much?

Harry's mouth twisted a little. He wanted to tell Riddle, he realized. He wanted to reach out to someone else, make them respect him the way Snape and Dumbledore and the Potters never would.

I turned Snape's spit to ice in his mouth and hammered it through his tongue. What does that tell you?

More silence, in the form of blank paper. This time, Harry found himself staring down at it, his fists clenched at his hands, and then he saw the words dancing into being.

An elemental mage. I am honored.

And it was only more manipulation, Harry knew that, and he knew he probably shouldn't have even shared the secret in case Tom found a way to tell someone else, but for the moment, just for a moment, it eased the ache inside him. A reminder that other people thought he was worth something.