Chapter Sixteen

Harry had had the best weekend of his whole life to date. He had spent it in the company of his Professor and Lucius, and the men had been so kind even when Harry had been a horrible boy. Harry was unsure if his Professor was really the disciplinarian that everyone moaned about in the common room as Harry had spent his punishment being tutored by the men, reading quietly together, or even playing a game of chess, which Harry was rather rubbish. His Professor hadn't taken away any of his meals, locked him in his room or told him not to exist—the man was the kindest person Harry had ever met. It made it hard for him to understand why everyone called him names and griped about the man.

Sadly, The weekend ended, and though they had still been together every evening and night, Harry missed his Professor this week. Luckily, they had discussed their plan for revealing the guardianship and would officially do it in the afternoon potions class today. Being a Friday, his Professor thought it the best time to allow the school to digest and spread the rumor while Harry could be safely away from backlash in their quarters. It also helped distract him from his nerves over his first quidditch match tomorrow.

They had been giving hints the whole week, and most of the Gryffindors in his year had noticed he wasn't in the dorms or the hospital wing. None of them had cornered him about it, but Harry was sure he would be cornered later today. Hermione and Ron had spoken to him about their yearmates questioning them, but both had stuck to keeping his privacy, which he really appreciated. The two were getting on much better and were acting as a united front for Harry—he didn't know why they would be so kind to him.

Hermione, Ron, and himself had been having a study group after classes—Ron was unhappy to be included but refused to stay behind in the common room because Harry was his best mate. They were in the library until Harry had to go to dinner in his quarters, which Harry thought was also very relaxed of his Professor—Harry had said so, and his Professor had lectured him again on self-preservation. The study group went well, and Harry even got Neville to join. Subsequently, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott came as well. Hermione was convinced they should be adding more people. Harry was agreeable as he knew he was responsible for spreading the history of dark lords and changing the opinion of Slytherin—not that his Professor had said he had to. Still, Harry wanted to repay the man somehow.

Hermione had mentioned asking a few Ravenclaws to join, and the lack of Slytherin classmates made Harry nervous. He wanted everyone to get along, but he didn't know which Slytherins to ask—maybe Harry should ask Gregory since he always seemed to have such a hard time in classes. Mind made up, Harry stood from his bench, and the unexpected movement caused food to fly out of Ron's fork and smack Seamus in the head. Hermione was scolding the two, and Harry used that moment of distraction to hurriedly move toward the Slytherin table.

There was a hush falling through the hall as he made his way over, and while Harry would have liked to look to his Professor for some support, he knew that he had to be brave on his own sometimes. He had spent his whole life being brave on his own: putting up with the Dursleys, having no friends, and being told he was an unlovable orphan. Harry could withstand walking toward the table that mainly contained sneering faces. Harry ignored some of the snide comments from the upper years as he made his way to his own yearmates. His smile was wobbly and his hands were clenched into the sides of his robes to keep from twining, but he finally reached where Gregory was sitting. The taller boy hadn't noticed his approach, but Draco Malfoy was directly across from him and was already scowling distrustingly at him.

"What are you doing over here, Potter?"

The question was much less mean, and he had even used Harry's name rather than one of his insulting nicknames. Harry was surprised, but Draco had been leaving him alone for the past month or so. Harry was glad as he would rather just not speak to Draco if he was always going to be unkind to him. The boy had yet to apologise for how he acted, but as long as he left Harry alone, he was happy to ignore the blonde boy. That reminded him that he may be unable to ignore the boy soon, as they may spend part of the holidays together. He didn't want to think about that yet.

"Uhm, sorry, I'm here to speak with Gregory."

The broad boy finally turned to face him, his mouth open in shock. "Goyle! Why would you talk to him?"

Harry ignored the blonde and smiled at the still-befuddled boy. "Hi, Gregory. I wanted to invite you and anyone you think might like to come to our study group."

The boy's mouth opened and closed a few times. "Study group? Me?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. He didn't want the boy to think it was a trick or that Harry wasn't one thousand percent sure that he wanted the Slytherin there. "Yup! You can bring anyone you want, and we meet in the library after the last class. It's going to be lots of different people with lots of different strengths too!"

The boy nodded, but not in agreement, more acknowledging what Harry was saying. Harry was willing to wait for him to come to his own decision. The bigger boy rubbed at the back of his neck and peeked down at Harry, which was really unfair because Gregory was sitting but was still taller than Harry by a little bit. "I don't think I'll be good at anything. What would you want for helping me?"

"Nothing. I just want everyone to get along, and I know you're nice so I wanted to invite you. And, I thought if you knew other nice Slytherins, you could invite them."

The boy blinked owlishly at Harry. "I'm nice?"

Harry grinned. "Of course! So will you? Join my study group, that is?"

The broader boy nodded, and while he didn't look enthusiastic, Harry was sure he could win the boy over as a friend, and if that was a stepping stone to getting more people to befriend Slytherins—Well, Harry was not going to mention it to anyone except maybe his Professor. Harry knew the man would love his idea, which might even make him proud!

"Alright, so today, after potions, meet in the library, and bring whoever you want, 'kay?"

The boy nodded, and Harry turned to leave when his arm was grabbed. Harry flinched badly from the contact, moving away from whoever thought to stop him before remembering where he was. Harry flushed as he saw it was just Draco, the boy having come around the table while he was distracted by his conversation with Gregory. It didn't wholly relax him, but he figured the boy wouldn't hurt him too badly in front of this many people—including his Professor.

The blonde stopped invading the little space Harry had made, his face more confused. "What are you playing at, Potter?"

Harry felt steel enter his spine, aware of all the first years he wanted to befriend, listening intently to their argument. "I'm not playing at anything, Draco."

The blonde scoffed. "I don't believe you. I've heard my whole life about your father being a bully who loved to prey on Slytherins. Following in his footsteps, Potter?"

Harry reeled at what the blonde had said. "What do you mean? I'm not a bully, Draco. I-I don't even know…"

Harry didn't know if he wanted to put into words what the blonde's words made him feel. He shook his head to rid himself of thinking of his father as being a bully when he had only just found out he wasn't a drunkard who got his mum killed. Now wasn't the time to have feelings; raging at the boy would only give him what Draco wanted. If his eyes were a bit glassy and his face a bit red—Well, he would just ignore that for now.

"I don't want to trick anyone. I just wanna be friends."

Harry looked pleadingly at Gregory—trying to make sure the boy knew he was sincere—and the boy promptly stood to his full height. The broader Slytherin moved in front of Malfoy and shook his head. "Leave Potter alone, Malfoy. He isn't doing anything, and the only bully is you. Lay off."

The blonde sputtered momentarily, clearly befuddled from Gregory standing up to him. "Yeah, Draco, there's no reason to insult a dead man. Bad form that," a darker-skinned boy, who Harry thought was named Blaise, sniped.

"What would your dear mother think of her son doing something so crass?" a blonde-haired girl—Daphne maybe—commented.

Harry watched as the blonde boy flushed and shook his head before taking off from the hall. Harry was almost concerned for the boy, who, while not kind, hadn't been as insulting. His own housemates had stood up to him, and Harry wasn't sure why that was. No one ever stood up for Harry, and he couldn't blame them—standing up for him usually made the bully come after you as well. Harry was not worth the trouble.

Harry noticed everyone watching him and flushed, his hands fisting the sides of his robes again at the attention. "U-um s-sorry. I'll just…"

"Were you being serious, Potter?" Blaise asked.

Harry nodded, keeping from biting his lip with his entire willpower. Every first year and most of the other Slytherins were watching him. Harry felt under a microscope as each searched him for motives and lies. "I want to get along with everyone. I promise, no tricks."

The darker-skinned boy nodded. "Very well, I will see you after class."

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise before a grin overtook him. "Great! This will be brilliant!"

"I'll come and bring Tracey as well," the blonde girl smoothly interjected.

Blaise smirked at the girl. "Always one-upping me, Greengrass."

Daphne smirked back at the boy, tossing his hair over her shoulder. "You just make it so easy to surpass you, Zabini."

Harry was confused, but he was sure this was just how they bantered. Hopefully, he wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of such cool, posh people. "Well, see you in class!"

Harry took his leave and was fast-walking all the way back to Ron and Hermione, which the former was gaping at him as if he had three heads like Fluffy. The boy dragged him back into his seat and checked him over as if Harry had just gone against another Troll. Harry rolled his eyes, shoving at Ron's hands in frustration. "Ron, quit it!"

"Mate, you were at the Slytherin table…"

"And," Harry prompted.

Harry knew why the boy was acting this way, but Harry thought acting like being afraid of Slytherins and suspicious of them was stupid was the best way to get through to Ron. "Mate, you know how dangerous Slytherins are!"

Harry arched his eyebrow like he had seen his Guardian do, and Ron looked taken aback. "I don't think I do know that, Ron."

Ron was gaping like a fish. "Harry, mate, they made you bleed the first week!"

Harry firmed his frown and spine, knowing now wasn't the time to act like a baby. He had to be strong and combat the hatred of Slytherins for his Professor so that the man would be proud of him. "Draco did that, and he was punished for it. Gregory was never mean to me, and a lot of the other Slytherins haven't even talked to me. What makes them dangerous, Ron?"

The redhead's face went ruddy in anger, and Harry felt a slight prickling of fear at the emotion directed at him. "They're bleeding Slytherins, Harry! You can't trust them!"

Harry felt his whole jaw clench, his teeth feeling a little sore. Ron never thought before speaking, and Harry had known this before he started the conversation. However, that didn't stop him from feeling a bit hurt for the boy, implying Harry couldn't trust his Professor. This was why he had to do this, and Ron would either help him or get out of his way!

"So I can't trust my Professor?" Harry cooly asked. Ron's face drained of some colour, his mouth opening and eyes widening. "How about Professor Sinistra? Is she untrustworthy? How about Terrence Higgs, who walked us all the way to the tower when we got lost? Or Adrian Pucey, who helped us find that Quidditch book in the library? Do you not see what you are saying?"

The boy looked angry and contemplative, but Harry was willing to wait him out. Ron had been a great friend so far, but Harry didn't want to always have to argue over his friends with the boy. Bullies would no longer be tolerated, and Harry was standing by that—though Draco's words kept replaying in his head.

"Er… Fine, Harry. I'll stop, but don't expect me to talk to them."

Harry frowned in disappointment but nodded his understanding. "I won't, but don't expect them to be kind to you either if you ignore them, Ron. They'll know why you are."

The boy huffed before turning to talk to Seamus and Dean. Hermione and Neville, watching this all with wide eyes, just smiled at him consolingly. Harry gave a small smile but was feeling worn down from so many conversations. He unconsciously looked to his Professor for support, and the man was already watching him closely, his eyes concerned and his mouth downturned. Harry squirmed from the attention, but warmth bloomed in his stomach for seeing the caring from the man. The man nodded at him, and Harry took it as the consoling he needed to get out of the Great Hall.

Harry, Hermione, and Neville walked together to potions while Ron was a pace behind with Seamus and Dean. Harry knew the redhead still needed time to cool down and wasn't looking to get into another argument soon. The thought must have been jinxed because Draco walked away from the congregated Slytherins toward Harry as soon as they reached the door to potions. Harry hid a weary sigh, already feeling like he might want to skip this last class and nap in his room, but he knew there was no chance of that.

The blonde wasn't scowling, which was a good sign, but he looked stiff and awkward. "If this study group is for all first years, I would like to join. Since you say you want to be friends with everyone."

Harry was surprised but quickly schooled his face into something with less emotion. While he was sure Draco was doing this to test him, Harry could see he could get something out of it without letting the blonde get the best of him. "Alright, Draco, you can join, but you have to apologise first."

The boy had looked gobsmacked before quickly having his face heat in snobby outrage. "Just what do I have to apologise for, Potter?"

Harry nodded behind him, where Hermione and Neville had stayed a few meters away. "For what you called Hermione and being rude to Neville. They shouldn't have to study with their bully, but if you can apologise and promise to be nice, you can join us."

Harry hadn't cared to throw in an apology for himself, not when he knew Draco would never mean it. Harry was hurt by that because he knew eventually Draco would taint Lucius against him and maybe even his Professor because they had known the boy longer and loved him. That's why Harry would be the best boy possible, befriend everyone, and make the world better so that his Professor would never think him the horrible boy he was.

Harry was drawn from his anxieties to a sputtering Draco. "No one else had these stipulations, Potter!"

Harry flinched from the tone and the anger on the other boy's face, but he wasn't going to take back his demands. Harry was curious to note Draco stopped getting in his space and dropped back a step, his face a little less red. Harry took the slight change in the boy to calm himself and firm his resolve. "No one else had been so mean to the others. Those are the rules, Draco. Take it or leave it."

Harry watched the boy contemplate—his brows drawn together and a steely look in his eyes. "Very well. Granger, Longbottom, I apologise for insulting you and will not do so again."

Harry felt a pleased warmth fill him. Even if the apology had sounded so formal and stilted, he had gotten Draco to apologise! Before Hermione or Neville could respond—which looked unlikely as they were both too shocked to speak—his Professor swung the door open, his face a little less severe, and a small smile quirked his lips. "Twenty points to Gryffindor for Slytherin dealings. The rest of you, in."

Not one student moved at his command, most staring at his Professor in shock and a few looking at Harry like they had never seen him before. The Professor tsked before gesturing them all past him. "In, now," he hissed.

The others seemed to give themselves a shake before pushing into the room. Hermione joined Ron, leaving Harry and Neville to partner for potions. Harry wasn't upset with the arrangement as he knew Neville could use the support of someone less overbearing than Hermione and less—well, Ron was useless at potions if Harry was honest. They settled on a potions desk near the front of the room, having been two of the last people to enter, and while that was no problem for Harry, Neville seemed to be shaking immediately.

Harry constantly worried about Neville. The boy was skittish like Harry and very scared of raised voices. Neville was also frightened of Professor Snape, but Harry could not understand why. His Professor had no longer snapped at the boy since the first class, when Harry had given the man a piece of his mind. The boy still flinched badly each time his Professor was near, and Harry was fed up with letting it go.

"Neville, why are you so scared of Professor Snape?"

Neville's whole face seemed to drain of blood, and he looked around anxiously. Harry knew his Professor was in his office, getting ready for their reveal, so he didn't worry about the man overhearing their conversation. Neville must have also noted the man's absence as he relaxed a little, but his fidgeting fingers and worried brow remained. "H-he was a Death Eater, Harry. My Gran always warned me to watch out for the people whose charges dropped for being Death Eaters. Him, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott, and a few others all escaped going to Azkaban."

Harry was confused about what he meant, but he could tell from context clues that Azkaban was maybe like a muggle prison and that Death Eaters were likely bad. But if what Neville said was true, all those people had been innocent since they never went to jail. Harry wanted to reassure Neville without seeming stupid. "He's actually really nice, though, Neville. He even punished Malfoy for hurting me, and he's been giving me lessons since I wasn't raised as a wizard."

Neville just looked confused but no less concerned than he had been. Harry thought Neville was genuinely still afraid—which was somewhat confusing without knowing what a Death Eater was—and rather than trying to not look dumb, he decided to trust the boy with his lack of knowledge. "Um, Neville, I don't know what Death Eaters are…"

The boy's face went white as a sheet, and Harry was saved from hearing what he had to say by his Professor walking into the room. The man had a first-year potion's book in his hand, and the knowledge that they were about to tell everyone of their relation was enough to put his and Neville's discussion to the back of his mind.

The man swept up to Harry, his face less severe even without his try of a smile. Harry had to stop himself from grinning at the man—especially when he could see everyone looking in their direction. The man lifted the book a bit with a frown on his face. "I believe you left this in our quarters, Mr. Potter."

Harry hid a grin by ducking his head. "Sorry, sir. I was doing my reading last night in the sitting room and must have left it there."

Harry knew not to shout but didn't mutter or try to whisper either. He could hear a collective intake of breath in the room, but he was unsure who would be the first to break it.

"What?" Seamus screamed.

Harry snapped to look behind himself and saw the Irish boy as confused as when everything blew up in his face. The expression was pretty funny, and Harry had to stop himself from snickering. His Professor did not look amused at all. "Mr. Finnigan, what is the meaning of your outburst?"

Seamus seemed to just be shaking his head before looking at Harry desperately. "What did he mean 'our' quarters, Harry?"

"Is that where you have been all week?" Dean interjected.

Harry didn't have time to answer the calmer of the duo before Seamus was shoving to his fee. "You weren't in the dorm, but Ron wouldn't say anything! Weasley, you knew!"

Harry wasn't sure if he was meant to answer now, so he looked pleadingly up at his Professor to take over. The man patted his shoulder before seeming to stand taller, his face devoid of emotion and his glare back in his eyes. "Cease with the caterwauling, Mr. Finnigan, and sit your behind in your seat. This is a classroom, not the stage for a Shakespearian drama. Further questions will be met with a loss of points, and should any of you harass Mr. Potter, Mr. Filch will meet you in detention. Now, let us continue on with class."

Harry thought he might be the only one paying attention that day, but that was more his Professor's problem. The man had planned for that result and had given them a pop quiz and a lecture following the terrible results before releasing them early from class. Harry made to follow his retreating classmates, aware that they would likely corner him in the corridor, but his Professor was already gesturing for him to stay behind.

Harry made his way to the man, feeling no real nerves but confused about what they needed to speak about before dinner. The man guided them to his office and settled Harry in his preferred armchair with a cup of tea and his favourite biscuits. Harry nibbled on a biscuit while his Professor settled in his chair with yucky coffee. Harry had taken a sip this week when he got curious about the man's preferred drink and regretted it immensely. It was bitter and gross, and Harry had wanted to spit it out. His Professor chuckled while Harry cleaned his mouth with a napkin, and Harry was very sulky about it for the rest of their breakfast.

"Harry?" Harry looked up from making a face at the man's cup to see the man failing to hide an amused smile. "Are you quite finished trying to glare a hole through my cup?"

Harry smiled at the teasing from his Professor and nodded. "Yeah. Sorry, sir."

The man smiled and waved a hand to settle the matter. "It is of no matter, Harry. Now, I did want to speak with you about something I overheard in my classroom."

Harry drew his eyebrows together in confusion because he was pretty confident no one had been able to speak for fear of angering the man after Seamus had shouted so much. Besides the Gryffindors' shouting, the Slytherins seemed eerily silent, and Harry had noticed more than one of them watching him. They didn't seem angry, just searching looks between himself and his Professor.

"What did you hear, sir? Is it about our guardianship?"

The man shook his head and started to tap his coffee cup handle. Harry finally noticed that his Professor seemed nervous, which made him a bit nervous too. What if the man was having second thoughts already? What if he blamed Harry for what other Gryffindors would say about him? What if—

The arms encircling his shoulders and bringing him into a warm chest interrupted his panic, and Harry relaxed into the hold, allowing his Guardian to soothe him from what was gearing to be another panic attack. Harry hated how bollixed his brain was and how often he went to pieces for no reason. He was a freak—and now he was a bad boy who had done exactly what his Guardian had said not to do.

The man carded his hands through Harry's messy hair, sometimes resting it against the back of his head. Harry took those few more comforting moments to rub his stinging eyes against the man's robes. A few tuts were heard from his Professor before a hanky was pressed to his face again and wiped away any signs of his upset. Harry squirmed from the man but was quickly cleaned off.

"I know it is not going to stop you from worrying, but I am not upset with you or anyone else. I wanted to discuss something I had thought could be pushed off until you were older, but I was reminded today that it could be used to push us apart."

Harry wasn't sure what the man was talking about, but his Professor sounded very serious. Harry peeked at the man and was rewarded with a quick kiss on his hair. "Thank you, Harry. I think it best I speak for now, and then you can ask questions. Agreed?"

Harry nodded, propping his head back against the man's shoulder. The man had a small grimace as he looked away from Harry. "Death Eaters were the followers of the Dar… You-Know-Who. That was why Mr. Longbottom was afraid of me."

"So, you were a Death Eater?" Harry dared to ask.

The man sighed, his eyes closing. "Yes, child. I was a Death Eater, and I joined him when I had just left Hogwarts."

Harry felt his throat tightening with a lump, but he didn't want that to be all he heard. His Professor had to explain because none of it made sense. "Why?"

The man kept his eyes closed, and Harry thought he could see tears beginning to pool from under them. "There were many reasons. Some I thought you were too young to hear before when I was trying to explain why I acted as I did."

Harry gritted his teeth and pressed forward with bravery. "I want to hear it. I want to understand, sir."

The man nodded. "My father was a muggle, and my mother a pure-blood who gave up everything to be with him. He beat us both, and I spent my childhood in fear. Like you, no one saved me, but I had hope that Hogwarts would be different. It was not."

Harry watched as the man was choked up from explaining. Harry took his hand and tried to soothe his Professor like the man had him. He patted the man's shoulder, and the man smiled for a moment before it dissolved into a frown. "My school days were filled with harassment from a group of Gryffindor boys in my year. They followed me, picked at me, and pranked me incessantly."

Harry felt dread creeping up his spine—a group of Gryffindor boys who loved to prank Slytherins. Could this be who Draco was talking about? It would explain why he had heard about Harry's father being a bully if his father's… boyfriend—was that the right word for adults—was the one being pranked. The knowledge didn't sit well for Harry, and he felt nauseous.

His Professor was lost in the story, his hands clenched into fists. "Every time I retaliated, I would be punished by my own Head of House while they were given free reign by their own. And while the boys ruined my school time and tried to punish me for keeping my friendship with Lily, not one Professor noticed my home life was also horrid. I begged to stay, but I was sent home every summer. I grew to resent those who kept allowing me to be abused because I was a poor Slytherin who no one cared for. In fifth year, the boys played a dirty prank on me, and your mother saved me from more harm at their wands. But in doing so, she had caused more ridicule from the school populace. I said that awful word to your mother, and she never spoke to me again."

Harry's eyes were wide and glassy. "You didn't apologise?"

The man winced like the question physically hurt him. "Of course I did, Harry. Your mother could not forgive me. I had pushed too far it would seem."

Harry was more confused by his Guardian's explanation. "That doesn't make any sense. If she loved you, she should have forgiven you. You were really sorry, right? Not like Draco."

The devastation on his Professor's face caused Harry's eyes to water. "No, I was truly repentant. I spent days outside the Gryffindor portrait hole trying to get her to speak to me or see reason, but she had wiped her hands of me."

Harry didn't really understand how his mother couldn't forgive his Professor, but he also didn't know how it felt to have a friend call you a vile name. He had never had someone who loved him call him something hateful—all he had ever received was hateful comments from people who were supposed to love him. His mother also wasn't here to explain her side or her feelings, which made Harry uncomfortable with his feelings of betrayal on his Professor's behalf.

Harry shook away his thoughts and feelings. "That's when you joined the Death Eaters?"

"No, for the next year and a half, others in my year and those above me took to wooing me. They praised my skill and were interested in me… It was a novel feeling. With no other friends, I clung to their attentions. I produced spells that would make them awed with my prowess and perfected my craftsmanship in potions. By seventh year, Lucius had contacted me again, he was in year seven when I was in first year. I had idolised him, and he was one of the few people who had tried to stop the bullying. Lucius was extending invitations for me to join him at his manor as his father wanted to speak to me."

Harry didn't like the tone in his Professor's voice. It almost felt like when you could feel something terrible was about to happen, and gooseflesh was peppering Harry's arms. He held himself for comfort but didn't want to stop the man. He had made it this far, and his Professor was so lost, looking at the wall like something else was there. Harry wasn't the person in this story—this was a story, just a story.

"Lucius thought it was about my apprenticeship, as his father was known to help poorer Slytherins with loans. It was, but it was more than that. The man was persistent in getting me to speak with the Dark Lord. I was reticent, but it was like he knew just what buttons to push to convince me. By the end of our talk, I had a backer for my apprenticeship and a meeting with You-know-who."

"It was only a week later that I was taking the mark and being pulled into his fold. The man was a monster by this time. All the praises about his power were true, but he was mutated. I immediately regretted my decision but had little choice but to continue, to toe the line and be useful or suffer under the older members who were his enforcers, Abraxas Malfoy, Augustus Rosier, Magnus Avery, Rasputin Lestrange, and Thaddeus Nott. The Knights of Walpurgis they were called, and they were the worst of us. They taught the younger faction how to use the unforgivable curses and enforced their use. Voldemort himself was little more than a cackling figurehead, who came to decimate the battlefield and launch into speeches about wizarding superiority."

Harry's teeth were chattering and his tears were running down his face. He didn't think he could hear more, not if it kept sounding so bad for his Professor. Harry knew the man had made mistakes, and he disagreed with hurting people, but this was also the man who had saved him, who had healed him, and who cared about him when no one else had. People changed, Harry knew they had to for his Professor to be the man he was now rather than the sad, lonely, angry boy in this story.

Harry used a hand to tug at his Professor's shirt, and the man's head snapped to look at him. Whatever had been on his face drained, and he looked forlorn and broken as he looked at Harry's shaking form. His Professor wrapped his arms around him and drew him closer to his chest. Harry allowed the movement and tucked his head against the man's neck, using the wall of hair to further enclose himself. The man started rocking him, rubbing his back, and shushing him, and though Harry felt like a baby, he basked in the overwhelming comfort of the man.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I was so caught up in my words. I shouldn't have… I knew you were too young."

"No! Please, I wanted to hear."

His Professor shook his head with a scoff. "You are eleven, Harry. I am the adult, and I knew this was more than you were ready to hear. Let's just skip to the end, please, allow me to spare you some of the story?"

Harry nodded, keeping his face attached to the man's neck. "Good, good boy. Thank you. Merlin."

Several moments were spent with his Professor rubbing his back and rocking them both. Harry had since calmed down and was ready for the end of the story. He peeked up at the man, and his Professor was already looking down at him, his face concerned and lined with worry. "Can you finish, please?"

His Guardian nodded. "Yes, apologies. The Dark Lord decided to attack your parents before you were born. I learned of this and went to Dumbledore to plead for your mother's life. He said he would protect them on the condition that I would become a spy for his side of the war. I tried very hard to keep your family safe by reporting back to the Headmaster, but someone else betrayed them. He reported my efforts to the authorities at a trial of another, and I never served any time."

Harry swallowed, his throat dry and his body still shaky. His Professor had given him a lot to take in, and at the moment, he didn't want to think about any of it. "Would it be okay if I went to study group, sir?"

Harry peeked through his lashes to watch his Professor's face change to concern. "Are you sure, Harry?"

Harry nodded, afraid his voice might crack. As much as he wanted to be around his Professor, he just wanted to stop thinking about these revelations, if only for a few hours. The man's look didn't change, but he settled Harry on his feet before him. His Professor kept hold of his arms and caught his eye, his face severe. "I want you to come back to our quarters for dinner, and if you feel you need to come early, you have my permission to leave study hall, understood?"

Harry felt a lump in his throat from the man's continued concern, making the turmoil inside him that much harder to push away. Before it could overtake him again, he nodded his understanding. The man seemed reluctant to let go of him, but he finally pulled away, leaving Harry to grab his bag and rush out the door.

Harry tried not to think about the look on the man's face as he hurried to the library. His Professor had looked… hurt—but that didn't make sense because Harry wasn't mad at him. He just had a lot of feelings, and they were too much to deal with immediately. That's why he needed to go to study groups and think less about what his Professor, his father, his mother, and all sorts of people had done before he was born.

Harry made it to the library in time for the group to settle. Harry was surprised to see all the Slytherin girls and all the Slytherin boys. On the other side of them were four Ravenclaws: Terry, Michael, Lisa, and Su; and between them and Neville were Hannah and Susan with Justin and Wayne.

It was looking to be a huge group, and Harry's anxiety ticked up a bit with all eyes falling on him as he approached. The group was eerily silent, meaning they had likely been talking about him, but Harry didn't know if he wanted to know what they had been saying.

"Harry!"

"Mate! You didn't get in trouble with the bat, did you?"

Harry felt his teeth clench from the name-calling of his Professor. "Ronald! You shouldn't speak about a Professor that way, and you know he is Harry's Guardian."

Harry knew he should be glad Hermoine was sticking up for him, but he always felt like such a baby when his friends did it for him. Harry knew he had difficulty sticking up for himself, but he could do it—if he thought he deserved it. He just didn't deserve to be defended all that often.

The redhead flushed, his mouth in a grimace. "Right, sorry, mate."

Harry felt his stomach leaden as the whole table stared into him. Harry had wanted to come here to not think about his Professor, but he had been too stupid to realise that was all anyone would want to discuss. He took a few seconds of silence to plop into the open chair between Blaise and Hermoine. It didn't seem like any studying would be done, but Harry had nowhere else to go that wouldn't cause him to think about what his Guardian had told him.

The table slowly started to speak about class that day—Hermoine trying her best to get the topic onto schoolwork—while most of the table unsubtly discussed what Harry and his Professor had disclosed that day.

Blaise leaned over, and Harry suppressed a flinch. "Was all that in class a ruse to disclose your guardianship?"

Harry jolted a bit in surprise at the question, and the smirk on Blaise's face seemed to grow. Harry wasn't sure if the boy was being mean, but he didn't want to assume anything bad about the other boy. "Uhm, yeah. Professor Snape came up with it so that we didn't have to make an announcement."

The other boy snorted and gestured around at the gossiping library. Nearly every eye was on Harry, and the boy slumped lower in his seat to hide from the attention. Blaise moved his books in front of Harry, making a divider with Hermoine's stack of texts. Harry was being hidden from sight enough to feel his nerves relax. Harry smiled at the boy as kindly as he could. "Thanks, Blaise. I-uh, don't like attention all that much."

The boy hummed. "Yes, I had noticed, Potter."

Harry grimaced. "Harry, please."

The darker-skinned boy's eyes widened before a small smile broke across his face. "Very well, Harry." The boy seemed to jolt before gesturing to the sandy-haired boy sitting to his right. "This is Theodore Nott. Theo, look up from the book for five seconds to say hello to Harry."

Harry grinned as the shaggy-haired boy peeked up from a hefty tome, his green eyes uninterested. "Hello, Harry."

The boy ducked back into his book, and Blaise scoffed. "Great, Theo. Very pure-blood decorum of you. Apologies for him, Harry. He was meant to be a Ravenclaw."

Harry giggled at the teasing, and Blaise smiled at him. "I'm sure Daphne's guests will be much better with their introductions. Daphne, come introduce the others to show we have better Slytherin decorum than Theo."

Harry watched as Daphne led over a thin, brown-haired girl and a tall, broad, black-haired girl. The taller girl looked confident and a little mean, but Harry wouldn't judge her for it. The more petite girl looked just as confident, but her face was smiling. Harry didn't know if he was meant to stand, but he was rather enjoying his blockade of books and decided against it.

"Thank you again for inviting us, Harry. This is Milicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis."

Harry nodded to each girl, going for a smile. The bigger girl also tried for a smile, and Harry thought she might just be uncomfortable with attention. "I prefer Millie, if it is all the same to you, Potter."

Harry smiled. "Harry, please."

Millie nodded, and the smaller of the two held out a hand. Harry took it in his trembling hand, giving it a good shake before pulling away. "Nice to meet you, Harry."

Harry nodded before looking to see Daphne smirking at Blaise. "I win, pay up, Zabini."

Harry was further confused as the boy handed her a few galleons. "You are a worthy adversary, m'lady."

Harry's face must have finally registered to the two as they smirked at him. "Blaise tried to break even by bringing Theo, but I was able to convince Millie to join us as well."

Harry was confused about when this became a competition, but he decided it was a Slytherin thing he wouldn't understand. "Thanks for coming. I really want us all to be friends."

The four looked at him shrewdly. "Because of the Professor? Our Head of House?"

Harry looked at Daphne, his head already shaking. "No! He didn't make me, I promise!" The four looked at him, smiles breaking across their faces. "I-I just… I don't like bullying, and people are mean to Slytherins for no reason."

Blaise snorted. "They don't think it's for no reason, Harry. They vilify us, and some play into their image. They use them to justify it, but not you? Draco bullied you, and you didn't even require him to apologise to you… You are a conundrum, and even without your personal beliefs, the Professor is now your Guardian. Why is that?"

Harry froze at the question, but his Professor had been firm in him only answering questions he was comfortable with—and Harry was very uncomfortable with telling everyone he was an unlovable freak. He looked down at the table, an errant hand digging into the wood grain. "I-I just… I needed another guardian."

Harry looked up to see their faces and drew in a sharp breath as he saw Draco Malfoy standing at the group's edge. Harry was feeling much less comfortable and more crowded than ever. Blaise's eyes shot to also look at the boy, but he didn't get a word in before Daphne was herding the girls back to their seats, making the crowded feeling dissipate from Harry. He hoped that Daphne didn't think he was a weakling and just wanted to help Hermoine explain the Charms work to Gregory and Crabbe. Harry had difficulty convincing himself she hadn't noticed his tensing body.

Draco stepped closer, and Harry drew back before he was really thinking about it. The taller one stopped moving closer, an odd look on his face. "Severus actually took you in… It isn't some trick?"

Harry felt his mouth was hanging open, the lack of venom from the boy a bit too surprising. "U-uh no, not a trick. He's my Guardian."

The blonde nodded, an odd look on his face. "The muggles… I…"

Harry's eyes widened, and he hurriedly held up a hand. "No!"

The blonde's face hardened, and Harry was surprised to note it wasn't aimed at him. "No. I said something before… I didn't believe it. I just… I was angry you didn't take my hand, and then Severus seemed to favor you. I was very angry with him."

Harry was wide-eyed as he watched the other boy falter through what might be an apology. "Draco, what… Why are you… I don't understand."

The blonde winced, but that was the only sign of his pure-blood mask slipping. "I had a long discussion with my mother about things… She was very firm with me and explained some things about her and my father's past. I decided to ignore you as I would Severus, but… my mother was very adamant I take a second look into the situation. I see she was right for me to discern more."

Harry shook his head, not liking how the boy looked him over. It wasn't wholly pity, but there was also that odd anger. "No, you don't know anything."

"I was wrong to be jealous of you. I can see that, but you were also wrong to scorn my hand."

Harry's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He couldn't believe he had thought Draco would apologise. The boy was obviously still spoiled, but now he felt he knew Harry and his motives better than Harry himself. It made Harry angry. "Stop!" The blonde froze, and Harry was sure most of the library had. "I wasn't wrong, Draco. You were mean to Ron, and you said insulting things about Hagrid in Diagon. I don't care what you think you understand about me, but I wasn't wrong."

The blonde looked annoyed, his face screwing up. "You just don't know any better, Potter. You weren't raised right, and I can help you see."

Harry's world felt fractured, and he shoved to his feet. His chest was moving in time with his heavy breathing. His blood was pounding in his ears. "Don't talk about that! You don't know anything!"

The blonde looked ready to snipe back before large hands covered his mouth. Harry had been so blinded by rage that he hadn't seen Gregory standing behind the blonde, his hand now covering Draco's mouth. Harry was surprised enough that his anger fled him. The big Slytherin boy nodded to Harry before pulling Draco away to sit between Crabbe and Daphne, who started quietly hissing at the blonde.

Harry was too exhausted from his outburst to care about that right now. Harry had told everyone who his Guardian was and had had too many arguments. Draco was being less mean but still being Draco, which was annoying. Harry had gotten new friends and argued with Ron about those new friends—and he was expected to make even more friends in his study group without getting too anxious to speak to them. He just wanted to return to his bed in his quarters and cuddle his snake while ignoring how weird his world was getting.

The touch to his arm caused him to jump, but Harry calmed as he saw it was just Blaise. The darker-skinned boy had Harry's bag in his hand, and Harry noted his Gryffindor friends didn't find this odd. They must have been speaking while Harry was still lost in his head. Blaise grabbed his hand and directed Theo, whose nose was still shoved in a book, leading them both from the library and toward the dungeons. Harry wanted to complain and ask why they decided to walk him, but he was just too exhausted. His shoulders slumped, his feet scraped along the corridors, and Blaise's grasp on his hand might have been the only thing keeping him upward.

They reached his Guardian's office, and Harry waited while Blaise knocked on the man's office. Only seconds later, a concerned Professor Snape was in the doorway, his gaze immediately assessing Harry. The attention made him preen a little at the caring concern, but he was too tired to let the expression show on his face.

"What is the meaning of this, Messrs Nott and Zabini?"

Blaise gestured to Harry. "He had a bad day, sir. We thought he might need to come back here early from study group."

His Professor nodded and picked Harry up. Harry might have felt embarrassed if he were less exhausted, but as it was, he settled onto the man's hip without fuss. The man's hand cupped the back of his head and stroked his hair. "Thank you for bringing him, and I expect you know he is now a part of the Slytherin buddy protocol?"

Harry had no idea what the man was talking about. "Of course, sir. We rightly assumed he should not be walking the halls alone, but if we may… there would be a good cause to call a House meeting to settle the older members of the House."

Harry felt and heard the man hum, and it caused his eyes to flutter. "Very well, tell the others there will be a meeting tonight before dinner."

"Also, there was a curious… development with Draco. He was being, not mean… Still very much Draco and ruder than I am certain he intended, but he was asking questions of Potter's guardianship. I think he correctly deduced the prior guardians were… distasteful."

"Your discretion is required, Messrs Nott and Zabini. Harry would not like that information to be spread, and I will take care of Draco. Please, inform the others should they also make such deductions that I will be displeased if it spreads further."

"Yes, sir. Tell Harry we will see him tomorrow at the game."

"I will inform him. I will see you soon, boys."

Harry picked his head up to nod goodbye to the two before being carried down the hall. Salazar shifted into his human form and waved to him as they entered their quarters. Harry was already more than half asleep as his Guardian settled him into bed.