A/N: Hi everyone. I hope this chapter finds you well even though there are still issues with the notifications. (Honestly, what's up with that). I'm going to only be using one line of the poem at a time moving forward because I noticed there's only 18 left and this story is going to have more than 9 chapters to come so yeah...

Enjoy!

Then straight I 'gin my heart to chide

Chapter 18

Harry sighed. It was getting harder and harder to keep disliking Malfoy. For one, he wasn't being nearly as hateful as he normally was. Also… he had really gone overboard.

"I can't believe you even got me fancy new quidditch robes," Harry said, not entirely able to keep the awe out of his voice. "They're gorgeous, mind, but I might not even be allowed to play this year."

Malfoy scoffed. He was in the midst of preparing his own quidditch gear. Harry wasn't sure why but he suspected that he boy was going to try out again, no matter what. "Please," he said. "Your misplaced humility is not cute. If Professor Snape insists on denying me my rightful position, we both know that you'll be my replacement."

"I don't even have my broom anymore, though," Harry countered. He put on the goggles he had specifically for quidditch and noticed that they had an anti-weather charm on them. "It'll probably be harder –"

He was interrupted by a pillow hitting him in the back. "Hey!"

"Stop fishing for compliments," Malfoy said in annoyance. "You're not being subtle and you're not getting any. Just go on and try. I still have my broom so there's no way you'll beat me in a fair contest."

"But Slytherins don't play fair, do they?" Harry sad pointedly.

"Just go, scarhead," Malfoy said, his insult lacking its usual bite. "If you're late for try-outs, you can be sure that Professor Snape will not be giving you the position, no matter how good you are. As opposed to some other… professors, he is quite adverse to preferential treatment."

"I – yeah," Harry said, realising that McGonagall really had gone out of her way at the time. He understood that she was a quidditch fanatic but it hadn't been fair to everyone else. Fred and George were excellent beaters but they weren't ever given new brooms.

He left Malfoy behind and went to the common room where Fred and George were waiting for him.

"There you are," Fred said. "We were expecting you."

"Well yeah," Harry said. "You told me I had to try out."

"As if you're not exited to go flying again," George teased. "Come on. The weather is nice, the sun is shining and there's nary a breeze in the air."

Harry snorted. "Nary?"

"Chalk it up to being around Slytherins for far too long," George said. "Now come on. I heard that being late could cost us the position before we even take to the sky."

"Eh, you could always discover a new Slytherin secret," Fred said. "That'll butter him up."

"Nice robes, by the way," George noticed. "Another present from Malfoy?"

"You know, I do believe that someone here fancies you," Fred chimed in.

"No he does not," Malfoy suddenly interrupted. "My romantic interests lie solely with the female portion of our species and even if it didn't, I wouldn't choose a Gryffindor partner."

"Let's go, Harry," Fred said. "Before a certain snake implies incest again."

"Are you still upset about that?" Malfoy said, his tone bored. But Harry could see an interesting flicker of anxiety in those eyes.

"Have you still not apologised for that?" Fred replied.

"I don't believe he has," George said. "Not while not under duress, at least. And yet, he clearly has the ability to show remorse." He gestured at Harry's fancy robes and then added snidely, "Just in case, Malfoy, we like racing brooms."

Then they left, leaving Malfoy in their wake.

"Wow," Harry said.

"What's up Harrykins?" George asked, his friendly and happy demeanour right back in place.

"I just don't think I've ever seen you two that resentful," Harry said. "Not to anyone."

Fred shrugged. "People usually aren't complete wankers to us," he said. "Or at the very least not to our faces."

"That little prick had it coming," George added. "I doubt that he cares very much about what we think but people generally do like us."

"Even here in Slytherin," Fred agreed.

"So before long, he might come to realise that antagonising us was the wrong move, after all."

Fred shook his head. "He values money more than anything. That much is clear. But he also values pure blood families."

"Our older brothers are already pretty high profile in the wizarding world," George said. "So before long, he might come to realise that provoking us was not the best strategy for him."

"Okay," Harry said. "You're probably right about that but I don't see you two holding a grudge for very long."

"I wouldn't know," Fred said happily. "We never tried to before. Let's find out, shall we?"

Harry chuckled. "You two are mental, do you know that?"

"Speaking of grudges," George said, "What about Daphne Greengrass, eh? She seems more interested in you than ever."

"Oh, Harry," Fred said in a high-pitched tone, trying to mimic a girl. "You are such a handsome chosen one. I never knew that Gryffindors were so… attractive."

"Stop it," Harry sighed. "It's not like that. Even if I wasn't mad at her, she clearly has something going on with Malfoy."

"The constant fighting, you mean?" Fred said. "Well, it's not super uncommon for pureblood families to have understandings with one another regarding marriage, I suppose."

"We've had a couple of requests for Ginny, as well," George shared. "Not that mum would ever agree to that, mind."

"Nor would we!" Fred exclaimed loudly.

"Wait," Harry said. "You think they're engaged?"

"Of course not!" Fred said. "Harry, you misunderstand. It's a promise to be engaged in the future."

"But we're not saying it's like that," George said. "Maybe they're childhood friends."

"Or enemies," Fred offered. "The way they sometimes go at it doesn't imply a peaceful relationship.

"Those can be good too, though," George said dreamily. "Remember Rosita?"

Fred smiled. "Aaah, Rosita."

Harry shook his head. That didn't seem likely. Those two really didn't seem to like each other much. Also, Daphne would have said something about that, surely? At least during the time they were friends. No, she wouldn't have been that open that quickly. She was still a Slytherin. Well, if the twins were right, that was her problem, wasn't it? Though Harry's heart did hurt a bit at the implication.

The way to the quidditch pitch was a quiet one for Harry. His mind was too jumbled with thoughts to participate in any more banter with the twins, though they were perfectly capable of entertaining each other. Harry noticed that Malfoy was following them from a distance and was sure that the twins had noticed as well. He probably didn't want to break one of Snape's rules right before attempting to reclaim his seeker position.

Speaking of Snape, he was already waiting in the pitch, a small group of Slytherins taking to the stands to watch the spectacle while an even smaller number of them were gathered around their head of house, brooms already in hand. They seemed to be talking amicably to Snape but from a distance, Harry couldn't make out what they were talking about.

"Ah," Snape said when they came into hearing distance. "It is assuring to know that you three can follow the rules if necessary. You have a few minutes left to fetch a broom from the broom closet before we begin. Mr Malfoy, you may join your housemates in the stands."

"I'm here to try out," Malfoy said. His voice was shaking.

"I think not," Snape replied. "I'm not certain why you believe me to be a victim of sudden amnesia but I assure you that I have not forgotten your transgressions that earned you your punishment in the first place, nor those that came after."

"You said that my punishment was losing my spot in the team," Malfoy pointed out. "You never said I wasn't allowed to try out to regain it."

"We didn't make a deal, Mr Malfoy," Snape told him. "And this is not a democracy nor is it a discussion between two equal conversationalists. My intention was quite clear and there is no way for you to bargain your way out of this. Trying to twist my words won't gain you any favour with me, either."

For a moment, Malfoy just glared at Snape with all the fury he could muster. But when Snape obviously didn't relent, he threw down his hundred and eighty galleon broom with such force that it bounced back and stomped off.

"Well," Snape said. "It looks like there's another broom free for practice."

That was kind of redundant, though. For the purpose of the try-outs, everyone was given a chance on the Nimbus 2001's. After all, these were the brooms the team would be flying with during their matches and if the players couldn't handle said broom, they wouldn't be a good match for the team. That was a given.

When it was Harry's turn, he mounted his broom and waited anxiously for the snitch to be released. Fred was in the same try out as he was but George was left on the ground for this one. Harry supposed that Snape wanted to find out if the twins were worthwhile beaters, even if they were flying with someone else. Honestly not a bad thing to find out. And Snape already knew very well how good of a team the two were. He had watched plenty of their matches.

Snape opened the little box of the snitch and it zoomed off into the cloudy sky. Harry tried to trace it but as always it was much too fast and agile and disappeared from sight within seconds.

"Begin," Snape commanded and all players took to the sky. As always, it was easy for Harry to ignore what was going on below him. Especially without the buzz of a commentator in the background. Tuning out the sounds of his team members had always come natural to him. It helped him focus on what was going on. And so, he kept his gaze sharp. His eyes flickered all over the quidditch field. He had to dodge a bludger or two but on these nimble brooms, that was no issue.

Dark clouds were gathering and Harry imagined that it would rain soon but for now, the weather was to his advantage. It was much harder to spot the shiny golden ball on a bright day than it was to catch it whizzing past with a dark, cloudy background. He veered his broom from left to right when he suddenly heard a commotion that he couldn't ignore. He looked down to see that a single dementor had come eerily close to the field. His hooded face, though clouded in shadows, seemed to be staring straight at Harry. Dread overcame him within seconds.

But then, without hesitation, Snape stepped in front of the students left on the field, wielded his wand and cast the spell Harry had been trying to get the hang of for most of the school year so far.

And he made it look so easy.

Harry couldn't help but wonder what amazing memory Snape had in mind to summon the brilliant doe that had emerged from his wand. The gorgeous spectre galloped towards the dementor without freight and made it flee within mere moments. So far away that Harry couldn't even spot it anymore. It hadn't even gotten the chance to summon that awful screaming that Harry linked to the dementors. No cold chill had found its way to Harry's heart.

The doe galloped back to Snape, bowed its head, and vanished without a trace. The last silvery whisps it left behind soon disappearing after it in the last rays of sunlight that had still persisted.

"Get back to your try outs," Snape bellowed loudly so the players in the sky could hear him too. "I do not have all day to waste on this. Go on."

How? How did the man stay that matter-of-fact? How was he not perturbed by the absolutely vile creatures? Harry couldn't even stand being near them and yet Snape hadn't even flinched! Was his own spell really that lacking? After seeing that, Harry couldn't help but feel that the gap between both of their patronus charms was insurmountable. Quidditch just seemed a lot less important all of a sudden.

That's why it took him a lot longer than it usually would have to find that snitch. When he did, his mind was still reeling and it was practically on auto pilot that he caught the damn thing. When he landed and handed Snape the snitch, he couldn't help but look at the man in admiration.

"Sir," he said. "That dementor – I mean – your patronus – I just –"

"Loquacious, aren't you, Potter?" Snape said dryly. "It is unfortunate that those pesky creatures come this close at times but I will have you know that I am more than capable to protect a handful of my students if need be."

"Clearly!" Fred exclaimed. "Professor, that was brilliant! Why don't you teach us that instead of potions?"

"Because I am a Potions Professor," Snape replied, slightly peeved. "And not one in Defense against the Dark Arts. If you desire to learn the Patronus charm, I fear that you will need to talk to Professor Lupin. However futile that might prove to be."

"Why?" George asked.

Snape smirked. "Because the man isn't capable of summoning one," he said. Harry didn't know why but it was obvious that the man was gloating. Immediately, he remembered why he didn't like the man. He was such a bully! Still… if that was true…

"Maybe he's just not very happy," Harry said softly.

Snape looked at him, a calculating look in his eyes. Then they softened. "That might be the case," he relented. "Magic isn't always purely about skill. But I believe that we've been out here for far too long already. Let us head back inside before those clouds release a heavy downpour."

"Sir, might I have a word?" Harry asked once everyone was back inside.

"Certainly," Snape replied. "I have been meaning to talk to you myself, in fact. Please follow me to my office, Mr Potter."

Harry didn't know when it was that a trip to Snape's office didn't seem like a dreadful thing anymore but he was glad for it. It wouldn't do to discuss certain things in the common room where every Slytherin could hear them, after all.

"Take a seat," Snape said, gesturing to the cosy sitting area in front of the hearth. One that he preferred for casual conversation. The desk – Harry had noticed – was left as a place for work and reprimands.

Harry sat down and watched Snape do the same. Tea appeared on the table in front of him but he didn't take any.

"Were you able to talk to Professor Flitwick yet?" Harry asked bluntly.

"I was," Snape said. "Immediately after you came to me, in fact."

"Oh," Harry said. "Why didn't you tell me?" He tried his best not to sound disrespectful. In this instance, the man was trying to help, after all.

"Because it is not your place to try and fix her problems," Snape replied easily. "Just like it isn't hers to try and fix yours, wouldn't you agree?"

"I could be there for her, though," Harry said, feeling a bit jaded by that reply.

"You could," Snape agreed. "Truthfully, I wanted to give Professor Flitwick time to have a heart to heart with Ms Granger."

Harry nodded. "About what, though?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Snape sighed. "How best to describe this?" he wondered aloud. "I suppose I could say that she has picked up a sickly desire to prove herself since joining Ravenclaw. That desire has transformed into need. And I do worry that that need might transform into desperation. "

Harry frowned. "Why?" he asked. "She was never like this in Gryffindor."

"A likely reason for her placement there," Snape said. "I suppose the competition with her fellow Ravenclaws awoke something in her that had merely been slumbering until now. Unfortunately, these obsessions are not healthy."

"So, what's Flitwick going to do about it?" Harry asked, feeling more and more irate.

"Professor Flitwick is a very intelligent person, Mr Potter," Snape said. "And he has conversed with his share of troubled children. I trust him to get through to Ms Granger. In fact, the reason I didn't inform you sooner was to give him time to intervene before you would come knock down his or Ms Granger's door without a care for decorum."

"I wouldn't –" Harry started but Snape's arched eyebrow showed that he already didn't believe him.

"Fine," Harry corrected himself. "I might have done that. But only to help her."

"And she will likely need your support from here on out," Snape said. "Even if Professor Flitwick got through to her, she will need her friends to help drag her out of this hole. As do you, Mr Potter."

"Me?" Harry said. "I'm fine. I've actually been too busy to be bothered."

Snape snorted. "You've certainly upheld a believable visage of the common happy teenager, I must admit," he said. "For the most part, that is. I cannot forget the fact that you've riled up both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff not so long ago. As well as your outburst in Herbology the other day."

"No one is happy all the time," Harry countered. "That doesn't mean I'm depressed or anything. Why would I be? If I'm to believe you, I don't even have to go back to the Dursleys any time soon."

Snape shook his head. "Not any time soon," he repeated. "Why don't you try never?"

Harry rolled his eyes. It was basically instinctively at this point.

"As I suspected," Snape said. "You don't believe me. But that's alright. You will soon enough. For now, I need you to realise that Christmas break will likely be rough."

Harry knew that Snape was talking about the fixing of his old injuries. "I get it," Harry sighed. "It's like breaking a bone that has been set incorrectly, right?"

"You could say that," Snape agreed. "Not only that, though. The memories of those injuries will come flooding back as well."

"I think you mentioned that," Harry grumbled.

"And then there's the issue of equivalent exchange."

Harry frowned. "What's that?"

"Honestly," Snape sighed. "You're a third year already. You should know these things."

"Well, I don't," Harry bit back.

Snape rapped his fingers on the table. "Powerful magic is a tricky thing," he said. "Even for the most powerful wizards." He leaned back and crossed his arms. "To perform magic, you must give something in return. This is always the case, even for the most simple of charms. You usually don't notice this, though, because the magic you perform is so very basic that the cost doesn't even faze you."

"You're not telling me that casting spells takes years off my life or something, are you?" Harry asked, a sudden feel of dread lurking in the back of his mind.

"Nothing of the sort," Snape said easily. "It's rather a matter of stamina, most of the time. If you cast enough, you grow tired, I'm sure you've noticed."

Harry nodded.

"Rest and you recover," Snape explained. "The cost is not great and part of that is the impermanence of the spells you cast. You can make a feather float but it will come back down at some point."

"Right," Harry said. "And fixing my injuries will hopefully not go back the way it was."

"You caught on quickly," Snape said. "Indeed. Fixing a new injury would be simple because the state of permanence hasn't changed yet but when it comes to old injuries the cost is far greater."

"Hang on," Harry said. "For who is that cost? And what is it?"

"The cost falls on the one casting the spell or a person that shares the cast in a ritual called 'Unitiatio'. As for what it is, that does not concern you." Snape folded his hands in his lap and looked at Harry with what could almost be described as kindness. "You need to know these things," he said, "Because I need you to realise what can happen. It is important that you do not panic if and when Madame Pomfrey experiences some difficulties or maladies. It is part of the process and she understands these costs."

"Yeah…" Harry said. "I don't think I'm going to go through with it then. That's ridiculous."

"Mr Potter –"

"No," Harry interrupted the man. "Don't even try to convince me. Like I said before, I only have a few aches here and there. Nothing terrible. Why would Madame Pomfrey need to pay any cost for that?"

"Because it will likely get worse," Snape said calmly. "Depending on the type of injury, it will get much worse and soon." He put a hand on Harry's which startled him but not to the point of pulling away. "I am not saying this to scare you," he said softly. "Nor do I wish to force you into agreeance. I simply wish to convey the truth. You are hurt and damaged. Neither I nor Madame Pomfrey wish for you to go through life with growing difficulties because of something that was done to you." Snape smirked at him. "If you wish, we will arrange it so the cost falls on me and not Madame Pomfrey."

"Why would you even offer that?" Harry groaned. "Why would that change anything?"

"Because you are fond of Madame Pomfrey," Snape said matter-of-factly. "And less so of me. That makes the choice an obvious one."

"It's not right either way," Harry said. "Me choosing another victim might be even worse."

"Still spoken like a Gryffindor," Snape said, shaking his head. "Will you ever outgrow those 'noble' values? I am not a victim, Mr Potter, and never wish to be addressed as such again. Neither is Madame Pomfrey. We have made a choice and it is an easy one."

Snape sighed when Harry didn't respond.

"The reason I cannot share the cost with you is not only because of your reluctance for the spell," he said. "It is also because I cannot possibly know what it will be. But I do know this. While the effects will most likely be draining and painful for the caster, it is very unlikely that they will be permanent."

"I don't believe you," Harry said softly.

"I haven't lied to you yet, Mr Potter," Snape said plainly. "I have kept things from you, yes. Many things. I still do, in fact. But the things I have shared with you have been the truth."

A moment of uncomfortable silence hung between the two wizards like a thick, black fog when Snape finally broke the silence again.

"Think on it," he said. "You may always ask Ms Granger to help you research the effects of equivalent exchange to make certain that I am – in fact – telling the truth though I urge you not to task her too much. But know that this kind of thing is what Madame Pomfrey became a healer for in the first place. Much more so than healing the mundane scratches and broken bones a teenager usually deals with. No matter the cost, she will gladly be a part of a cause such as yours."

Harry swallowed to try and clear the blockage in his throat but failed. So he merely nodded and got up from the couch.

Things were never easy, were they?

He made to leave but before opening the door, a thought hit him and he turned to look at Snape with a sense of desperation. "What about me?" he asked. "Is there a way for me to pay the costs?"

Snape looked at him harshly. "There may be," he said. "But I wouldn't recommend it. You would already be dealing with a great deal of physical and emotional distress."

"Can you please just look into it?" Harry asked. "If it is at all possible, I want to see if I can. No one else should have to suffer for me."

Snape sighed. "Mr Potter. You shouldn't have to suffer either."

"I will anyway," Harry said sadly. "So I might as well take it all."

He left without another word, closing the door very softly behind him. Snape ran a hand through his greasy hair. That boy would be the death of him.