A Year Like None Other

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or this fictional universe. JK Rowling, some publishers, and some film companies own everything. I'm not making anything from this except a hobby.

Summary: A letter from home sends Harry down a path he'd never have walked on his own. A sixth year fic, this story follows Order of the Phoenix and disregards any canon events that occur after Book 5. Spoilers for the first five books. Have fun!

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A Year Like None Other

by Aspen in the Sunlight

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Chapter Seventy-Nine: Nott

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"Still stings," said Harry late the next morning, trying to be philosophical about it.

Snape stepped back, his brow furrowed. "I've dampened down the magical constituents of the Elixir just about as far as can be done, yet you've noticed no improvement?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, it's not like it hurts so much I can't stand it. The stinging goes away after a couple of minutes. I can put up with that if it'll eventually restore my vision back to normal." He grinned. "Or better yet, to where I won't need these glasses. The one eye still has perfect vision, after all. You do really good work."

"Not good enough," murmured Snape. "Well. I've exhausted my own texts on the subject. Perhaps the wizarding library in Edinburgh--"

"Oh, be realistic, Severus," drawled Draco from where he sat slouched. "How many Potions Masters have healed the kind of eye injuries Harry suffered? You're probably the world's foremost expert."

Injuries... maybe that was the key to the whole thing, Harry thought. "You know, when you first started treating me with Elixir I was in a terrible state. Taking pain-killing draughts right 'round the clock, remember?"

While Snape's rather sardonic gaze announced that he was hardly likely to forget, Draco made a derisive noise.

Harry ignored all that. "Right... well, I'm just wondering if maybe that's why the Elixir didn't sting. I mean, maybe it hurt like mad but I was in no shape to notice. And later... well, that's a question, isn't it? Later on I wasn't taking painkillers, hmm...."

"By then," said Snape in a dry voice, "I would think your system had become habituated to the Elixir."

"Huh?"

"You'd gotten used to it and your eyes had adjusted," explained Draco with a bit of a superior air. "But it's been long enough since then that they've gone back to the way they were before. Well, that would certainly account for why the potion hurts him now. Good thinking, Severus."

"Hey, I was the one who thought of it."

"Habituation," said the Potions Master, shaking his head. At himself, it seemed. "Obvious in retrospect. I can hardly believe I didn't reason it out straight away."

"Well, we all had a lot on our minds," said Harry. "It's all right."

"It is decidedly not all right for one to overlook pertinent data staring one in the face!" Snape ran a shaking hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

"Look, at the time Draco was more important; I understand that." Harry smiled to show that he really did.

"Draco is not more important, you idiot child! I love you both!"

Harry'd known that for ages, but it was still nice to hear it put so clearly. For him, at least. Draco rose unsteadily to his feet, looking a bit as though he'd stepped off a balcony without his broom. "I... Severus, I..."

For a moment there, Harry was afraid Draco was going to come out with another completely fake I love you, too pronouncement. Not that it really would be fake; Harry was positive that Draco did in fact love the both of them. But Draco would think he was lying -- because Draco didn't know he loved them. Or maybe more to the point, Draco didn't want to love them.

Because to him, love meant manipulation. He loved them enough to want it not to be like that.

"Excuse me, please," Draco finally said, retreating behind his perfect manners as he fled the potions lab.

Snape closed the door and warded it for silence, then cast a rather disparaging look in Harry's direction. "I trust you see why I've refrained from making daily declarations of my feelings, as you urged before?"

Harry had hardly urged that, but he understood what his father meant. "Well, hearing how we feel obviously upsets him, but still, I really think--"

"I told you to leave this matter to me."

"You also told me I could say whatever I liked to you in private." He gave the warded door a significant glance, then.

"So I did." Taking a seat on one of the high stools in the lab, Snape waved for Harry to continue.

Startled by how easy that had been, Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"Consider it negotiation," was Snape's dry advice. "And bear in mind I still reserve the right to tell you to drop a topic, even in private. But I won't do it unless I believe it absolutely necessary. And so? Go on, dispense your fatherly wisdom. Merlin knows you have simply years of experience--"

"As if you do."

"Head of House duties." Snape was smiling slightly by then, which made the dispute more like banter than an argument. That was nice. "Not the same by any means, but there are similar elements. And I've known the boy for sixteen years whereas you've known him--him, not his reputation--for something like six months. But you're the expert on all things Draco Malfoy, apparently--"

"Draco Snape."

"Ah, yes. You were right last night; that will take some getting used to." Snape's smile had faded by then, but there was still a pleased look about him. Something to do with the wrinkles around his eyes, Harry thought, a little surprised to feel a niggling of dismay eating away at him. It was ridiculous. He didn't resent the adoption or the name change, he didn't.

"Well?" The Potions Master raised a challenging eyebrow. "I do believe you had some advice for me?"

"It's not advice. It's just... I just know what I think. Draco's a big mess inside after the way his family treated him. So maybe it's a bit like with me and the Elixir. He needs to get... uh, habituated I think was the word, to hearing about how we feel. Even if it hurts him at first."

"So you do recommend daily declarations. Or hourly, perhaps?"

God, but the man could be snarky sometimes. "Look, Severus, all I'm saying is that if one comes out naturally, like what you said just then, I don't think we should hold back. We should be what a family's supposed to be, all right? Draco'll get used to it."

"And how would you know what a family is supposed to be?" The question could have been cruel, but that wasn't Snape's intent. Neither was it some sort of teasing; the Potions Master looked about as serious as Harry had ever seen him. "I think you understand how I regard you, Harry, so I trust you can accept this observation in the spirit in which it's given, but... you also are, as you put it, a big mess inside after the way your family treated you."

Harry frowned, thinking back to his nightmare about Snape yelling at him that he'd let down Draco. Or the one from months before, with Snape and Sirius both inside the mirror, both dead. "Yeah, I know. I think we're all three of us pretty messed up. No offence. Sometimes I even think that everybody is screwed up in one way or another. That's just... life." Harry met his father's eyes and smiled. "If I know anything about family, it's because you taught me. Not like a teacher... I mean, just by being there day after day, putting up with Draco and me fighting, listening to me, talking to me... just, dependable. I can think about the Dursleys without flinching now. Well, sometimes at least." Harry shrugged. "I try not to thank you very often because I know you don't like that, but Severus... it's kind of hard for me not to."

The Potions Master gave a sharp nod, but to Harry it looked awkward. He didn't really understand that until the man spoke again. "I do of course remember telling you to consider calling me Severus..." Snape looked away, his voice dropping to an undertone. "However, I now find I much prefer the other."

The other. Harry couldn't help but grin, though he schooled his expression into something a bit more controlled when his father glanced his way. "I like the other, too. People in Gryffindor are even getting used to it, I think. Oh, by the way, I don't suppose you could find a way to give Neville some points? If it wasn't for him I think I'd probably have slugged Seamus straight in the face by now."

To Harry's amusement, Snape looked slightly alarmed at that thought. Definitely, the man was every bit a dad. "What on earth was Mr Finnegan doing to you that could merit an exchange of fisticuffs?"

"Oh, nothing really." Harry waved a hand. "You have to know that people think you being my dad is pretty... uh, strange. I mean, they can't help but remember the things I said about you for five straight years. Seamus was having some fun at my expense but--"

Snape's voice dropped to a menacing drawl. "Do you need me to speak to Mr Finnegan?"

Harry could just imagine how that conversation would go. Poor Seamus would pee his pants before Snape was through with him. "No, really. Neville sort of... um, mediated and it's all fine now." Not liking the look on his father's face, Harry couldn't help but add, "Swear you won't, all right? I mean it."

"You're perfectly welcome to live here if the Gryffindors are being their typical unbearable selves."

"I'll keep it in mind," Harry said, deadpan. "Nice try changing the subject, but I still want you to swear you'll leave Seamus alone. Honestly, I think I traumatised him enough all by myself."

"I'll speak to anyone I wish on your behalf, if I feel it's indicated." Harry almost objected to that, but before he could, Snape added, "However you seem to have the Finnegan situation under control for the time being."

"Thanks to Neville."

The Potions Master ignored the hint. "I didn't mention your returning to live here merely to divert your attention. I've grown accustomed to your presence."

"You miss me," Harry accused with a laugh. It wasn't nearly as funny, though, when he saw that Snape looked as though he regarded that fact almost as a character flaw. "Hey, it's all right. I miss you, too. I got really homesick that first night back, which was a new thing for me. It was always such a relief before to make it to the Tower. But... look, it's not so long now until summer--"

Snape's lips curled with some sort of dark humour. "You think I need consoling, obviously. It is all right, Harry. I know where you belong; Hogwarts isn't merely about learning spells and potions."

Standing up then, the Potions Master crossed his arms. "Regarding your eye, then. As all variants of the Elixir stung in equal degree I believe we may as well utilize the strongest one. Two drops in your left eye, twice a day. And yes, Mr Weasley may put them in." Snape decanted a small amount of the potion into a flask, corked it, and gave it one last critical glance before handing the potion to Harry. "Just remember to have him check that the Elixir coats the entire ocular surface before you blink. In a few days' time we should know whether the treatment is sufficient to improve your vision."

Smiling his thanks, Harry pocketed the flask.

Snape didn't smile back. "I can supply you with a painkilling draught as well if you like."

"Nah. I can manage."

"If you're thinking of my problem with the Loosestrife I can assure you there'll be nothing habit-forming in the potion I provide--"

"Actually, I'm thinking about that habituation thing. If I get used to painkillers then won't they work less well when I get a serious injury?"

The Potions Master sighed as he acknowledged that with a nod. "I do wish you didn't have such good cause to speak that way. Most young men your age would be saying if."

"Yeah," Harry acknowledged. "I'm actually surprised Voldemort hasn't made another attempt on my life this year. He's breaking his usual pattern, getting that out of the way in the fall instead of waiting until the spring term is nearly over."

"He doesn't know what to do," Snape murmured, looking as though he were lapsing deep into thought. "You've become something of an unknown quantity to him. He's aware you lost your magic and thanks to his contact with Vernon Dursley he may even have some inkling as to how. But he also knows that your powers are back now, at least in part. You threw him violently from your mind. You have kept him out ever since, yes?"

"I'd tell you the minute he came lurking around, so yes."

"Voldemort has always had a link to you, but you've managed to curtail it at last. I imagine that alarms him, but he's too wily to make any snap decisions about it. He's no doubt considering his options."

Harry nodded. "All this pretence that I can't cast a decent spell to save my life, though... We're making him think I'm weak. Isn't that like inviting him to attack?"

"No. It should throw him off balance as his personal experience of late has been that your powers are fearsome indeed."

"I hope so."

"You hope that it throws him off balance or that your powers are fearsome?"

The boy lifted his shoulders. "I can't help the powers thing, you know."

"Yes, I know." Snape's lips turned down. "You really aren't arrogant. I should have remembered that."

A bit puzzled, Harry thought back but still couldn't make sense of that. "When?"

"When you used your mirror to spell Draco's frame. I suppose what made my reaction so harsh was thinking that it was overconfidence which led you to take such a horrendous risk. But now I suspect you truly have no idea just how much peril you were in." Snape tapped his fingers together as he considered that. "I think the correct course of action is to require three feet on the dangers inherent in combining magical artefacts."

Harry thought about objecting to that, but he didn't want to annoy his father any more than he had already. And anyway, by Snape's standards it was a pretty reasonable punishment. "All right. When do you want it by?"

"It's not an assignment, Harry; I want it when you've learnt your lesson. Literally."

Harry nodded, though what he was really thinking was that taking risks was part of who he was. He couldn't imagine never taking one again, no matter what his father thought of the matter, but he was hardly going to say so.

Some of what he was thinking must have shown on his face, however, for Snape quietly said, "Remember, you do better with more information rather than less, Harry."

But you said I had good instincts, Harry mentally countered. All he said out loud though, was, "I'll try to get it done by Saturday when I come for... oh, wait. This Saturday there's a trip to Hogsmeade. I left my permission slip in my dormitory but I can bring it to Potions on Tuesday--"

He stopped talking because Snape was shaking his head. "You'll have to miss this trip."

Harry wasn't sure if that was because he'd missed his Potions tutorial--though that was hardly his fault--or if Snape was thinking that after the frame thing, Harry didn't deserve a day out with his friends. He wasn't going to ask, though. His father hardly needed to have both his sons being rude and rebellious. "So you'll have the essay on Saturday," he answered, nodding.

Snape looked him over in that way he had, that way that made Harry feel like he was being studied. "There's no rush. In fact, I don't want it until you've had time enough to truly consider the matter."

"Well, I'll get right on it, anyway."

Whatever Snape might have replied was lost forever as the door was flung open by Draco, who was dressed in a travelling cloak.

"All done in here?" He looked from Snape to Harry and back. "Any particular reason why the door was charmed to silence?"

"Any particular reason why you had cause to notice as much?" Severus' tone wasn't far from a reprimand.

Ignoring that, Draco brushed a bit of imaginary lint from his sleeve. "Well if the two of you are gossiping about me I think I've a right to know. But no matter. Are you done? With the Elixir or whatever else you were discussing? Because I've made a list and I'd really like to get through it before teatime. Though I suppose the shops are crowded already. But I simply can't wait--"

"Can't wait for what?"

"Potter, did you or did you not notice that the better part of my possessions vanished in a fit of goblin magic? You don't think I can live with a mere six shirts to my name, not a single one of them with decent buttons, do you? I need to go shopping, don't I? Right now."

Harry thought that six shirts was plenty, but he didn't say so.

Snape, however, had no trouble critiquing Draco's plans. "No son of mine will be wearing a shirt with diamond buttons. Nor emeralds," he added in a stern tone before Draco could argue the point.

Draco argued anyway. "Pearl, then."

"No."

"Merlin preserve me, mother-of-pearl," said Draco with one of his theatrical shudders. "Fine. I'll look like a plebeian, I hope you realise."

"You'll look like a Snape."

"Black isn't my colour," objected Draco with a bit of a smirk. "If you ask me, it makes you look a tad sallow. I know you favour dark colours but have you considered perhaps a very deep shade of purple--"

"Draco," the Potions Master interrupted. "I think you know quite well I wasn't talking about something as meaningless as colours." He drew in what looked like a calming breath. "However, if you wish to go into the village I see no reason why I can't take you."

"I can," said Harry, pushing down a feeling of profound irritation that Snape had just forbidden him his own Hogsmeade request. "What if Lucius finds you're off school grounds and he tries something?"

"Oh, please. You think he's got nothing better to do than hang about in a dreary little town like Hogsmeade on the off-chance I'll stop in? And you might consider having a bit more confidence in our father, Harry." Draco rolled the word our off his tongue as though he were savouring it. "He's a strong wizard. Stronger than Lucius. And smarter, too. Or has that yet to dawn on you?"

Harry held to his temper with some effort, saying only, "Won't owl-order do just as well if you need some things?"

"Potter, I need an entire new wardrobe and you just don't do that owl-order." Draco gave him a thin smile. "Besides, it'll be a while before I can access my new vault. Those goblins are sticklers for protocol."

Harry's mouth almost dropped open, because there was no missing the implications of that little tidbit. Draco wasn't just demanding that Snape take him shopping, and now at that; he was expecting the Potions Master to pay for everything as well! An entire new wardrobe... Harry'd never heard of anything so rude as to come storming into a private conversation to demand presents!

The greediness reminded him an awful lot of how Dudley used to behave, actually, and Harry was irritated enough by it that he almost said so. But Snape wasn't objecting, and the Potions Master never did anything without a reason. Knowing that helped Harry put himself in Draco's shoes. This was probably Draco's way of figuring out if he was really wanted or not, something like that. It all went along with what the casewitch had warned about, though Harry thought she must not have realised quite how selfish Draco could be.

At any rate, instead of yelling, which wouldn't help much at all even if it would feel awfully good, Harry tried to think about what Draco needed, or at least what would make him feel loved and accepted.

Draco began tapping his foot and making a show of checking his watch, which of course was missing from his wrist. "Today would be nice. Assuming you are done dealing with the Elixir? I know that has to come first."

The words were conciliatory, but not the tone behind them. I know that has to come first but I really do need new clothes, so hurry up. That was what Harry heard.

"We've finished, I do believe." Snape glanced over at his other son. "Harry, why don't you collect your own travelling cloak? We'll all go together."

Harry couldn't help it; he gaped. "What?"

"Lucius didn't poke your eardrums out too, did he?"

"Draco!" Snape glared briefly, then turned an apologetic expression towards Harry. "This is rather different from a school trip. I think those will have to be deferred until you've shown a bit more respect for the rules I lay down. For today, however, Draco and I would enjoy your company."

You would, Harry thought. Draco's another matter. And sure enough, right on cue came a petulant objection from the other boy in the room.

"Oh, but Potter has loads to do up in Gryffindor Tower, isn't that what he said last night?"

"Harry hasn't been to Hogsmeade in months either," chided Severus. "He may well need some things."

Harry appreciated the sentiment, especially the veiled offer to buy him whatever he might require, but what Draco needed, quite obviously, was time alone with his new father. Harry wasn't so self-centred that he could miss that, even if Snape was going overboard to make sure that everything was even. "I'm all right. Ron and Hermione will be around in a while to fetch me, anyway." He gave a wave of his hand, trying not to sigh at the openly satisfied gleam in Draco's eyes. "You two go on. If you're sure it's safe, that is."

"No, Potter, we're going because I'd like to be handed straight over to the Dark Lord--"

"Ten points from Slytherin," Snape suddenly said, waving his wand to enforce it. "Stop calling your brother Potter."

Draco laughed. Hard, actually slapping his thigh with his palm. "Oh, good one. But I'm not in Slytherin, am I?"

"You're an honorary member courtesy of the Hogwarts' Charter and your status as my son."

"You can't deduct points from an honorary member!"

Snape arched a single eyebrow. "Have you read the charter in full? In the original Latin, no less? I thought not. I therefore suggest you not attempt to explain it to those who have."

Sputtering then, Draco protested, "But you haven't enforced the names thing in forever--"

"You haven't made me want to," retorted Snape.

Draco glared at his father for a moment, then resumed his show of fussing with his cloak. "Oooh, ten whole points. However will I live it down? Especially as that means Slytherin is only about three hundred points ahead of second-place Ravenclaw. Gryffindor's a poor third so far this year, I do believe."

"How would you know how the point counters are doing?"

Draco rolled his eyes and looked at Snape. "Six years and he still really doesn't get the magic thing, does he?"

"That will be enough, Draco!"

The Slytherin boy raised hands and shoulders as though he had no idea why Snape had suddenly raised his voice. "What?"

"You're being insufferable!"

"Potter here--oh, sorry, Harry--was Muggle-raised, Severus. Now, I've learnt not to hold that against him, though I will say it's been quite the trial and I really should be commended, but it's only natural he'd be a bit backward--"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "I can easily make it a hundred points if you'd prefer."

"No, please don't," Harry broke in. A strategy like that would only heighten Draco's resentment and make him want to compete with Harry. Well, more than he apparently did already.

Draco openly smirked. "There, see? Spoken like the good little half-Slytherin he is." After that, though, his tone became morose. "Though why I should care is anybody's guess. Honorary, schmonarary. Do I get my crest back? Because I don't want it. Why should I give a shrivelfig what becomes of Slytherin after what they've seen fit to do to me? As far as I'm concerned, the lot of them can burn."

"Draco, they didn't all scheme against you," said Harry. "You told me yourself that some of them are worth saving."

"Hmm, well my youthful idealism has died a tragic death. They did all scheme, every last one of them. That Slytherin plague was just a tad too convenient. If you ask me, they were up to something."

"I thought you believed Pansy cursed them all on the way down!"

Draco's voice went cold. "Did you or did you not hear me state not ten seconds past that my youthful idealism is as dead and gone as she is? She'd just had Corpus Aqueous cast on her! It's not too likely she was coherent enough to form a last thought, let alone hex an entire house from afar! Would you do us all a favour and get your damned Gryffindor head out of the clouds, or perhaps your arse?"

"Draco, any more talk like that and you will find your urgent shopping spree cancelled for an indeterminate amount of time!"

"Oh, fine." Draco beamed a wholly insincere smile over at Harry. "I'll just go wait in the sitting room. If you could manage not to detain Severus for too much longer, I'd be oh-so-everlastingly grateful."

With that he was stomping to the door and slamming it behind him.

Snape shook his head, then walked across the room to rest his large hands on Harry's shoulders. "That was well done of you."

"Huh?"

"Your attitude toward Draco's ill temper. Your forbearance has not gone unnoticed, Harry, and since I know you're more than capable of returning his verbal sparring in kind, I can only assume the casewitch must have spoken to you about the matter?" Snape tightened his fingers and then let go.

Hugging the praise to himself, Harry nodded. "Oh yeah, we talked. It looks like Draco's running true to form. I wish I knew how long it's likely to last. He's being a right pain."

"Quite." Snape sighed. "Are you certain you won't come along to Hogsmeade with us? You're most definitely invited, no matter what Draco has to say on the subject. Don't you need new clothes as much as he does?"

"I could use some things but it can wait. I mean..." Harry's lips twisted. "I don't think I need things in the same way Draco does. Well, how could I? I grew up pretty much expecting nothing in the way of gifts, but he sort of takes them as his due or something. I think this Hogsmeade demand is... I don't know. His idea of a father is probably someone who buys him stuff. So he's seeing if you will."

"His motivations hardly excuse his comments to you." The Potions Master frowned. "Hogsmeade, Harry?"

"No thanks. I need to start working on a well-wish for him, actually."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Your forbearance apparently knows no bounds."

"Well, I'm trying." His mind though, wasn't on Draco's snide remarks. Harry was wondering how to broach the subject of money. His face heated just thinking about what he had to ask, but it was his own fault things were like this. That had been deliberate, though. He'd known this would be hard, but he'd still wanted that experience of being someone's child, so now he was left with no choice but to go ahead and plunge past his discomfort.

"Um, about the well-wish. I still have to do some research and talk to Professor Sprout and such, but it might end up that I need to buy some things. You know how we agreed on an... um, allowance for me but you said I wouldn't need the actual cash until I'd moved out? Well, I've moved out. So could you... er..."

The look on his father's face was exasperated and amused all at once. "Yes, of course. It shouldn't embarrass you to ask me for things, Harry. I wish you'd do it more often."

Like Draco? Harry pushed the thought away. "Sorry."

"And I wish you'd do that less often," chided Snape.

"Well, I'm a mess inside like you said," retorted Harry. "But if you want me to ask for things, I'll go ahead and mention that I think my back allowance is up to about forty Galleons by now."

"Forty-four, though I certainly don't keep coins in the lab."

Harry followed his father out to the living room. Draco was standing by the front door, obviously impatient to be off. When Snape walked past him and down the hall to his bedroom, the blond boy gritted his teeth. "What, what now?"

"He has to get some money."

"Oh, please. We're not going to Kathmandu. Don't you think Severus has accounts with all the merchants in town? He can sign a vault draft, but you wouldn't know about that, would you? You didn't even know about shopping owl-order until I enlightened you, and then what did you do but order me that demon's amulet--"

Harry gritted his teeth, managing not to yell back only by remembering his father's compliments. Snape appreciated his forbearance, so forbearance it would be, no matter how it made his jaw ache. "He needs it so he can pay me my allowance."

"Oh, allowance." Draco's teeth glittered as he grinned, and not maliciously, either. More like he'd just had a marvellous idea. "I want an allowance, too!" he shouted the moment Snape came into the room. "How much are you giving Harry? Because I want at least as much!"

Snape's hands tightened on the velvet pouch he was holding, but he answered in a level voice. "Forty-four Galleons."

Draco gave off a horrified gasp. "Only forty-four Galleons a week? That's practically child abuse, it is--"

"We'll have no jests in this home about child abuse."

"Oh, right. I forgot about the Muggles who used to starve Harry and beat him half to death--"

"They never really beat me, exactly--"

"Don't defend them," snapped Snape, before turning an angry gaze on Draco. "You did not forget about the Dursleys. And furthermore--"

"Well I'm trying to. He's practically a Muggleborn. But like I said, I've done my best to overlook the matter of his breeding--"

"And furthermore," continued Snape, raising his voice, "I was talking about you as much as Harry, is that clear?"

"Yes," said Draco, suddenly subdued. He looked down as though all at once unable to face either one of them.

The Potions Master raked his hands through his hair, his expression for a fleeting instant saying that he didn't know how to proceed. But then he must have decided, for he said in a much softer voice, "As for an allowance, you are certainly welcome to the same as Harry, though I never agreed to any such ridiculous sum as forty-four Galleons a week. That amount represents his allowance from the time we first settled the matter of one."

Snape counted out forty-four Galleons for each of them, the action leaving the velvet pouch empty. Draco muttered something that sounded suspiciously like pauper, but Snape pretended not to hear it, so Harry pretended as well. When Draco shoved his money in a cloak pocket, though, the motion screamed resentment. "Just how long do you think it'll be before the goblins let me have my new vault so I can have some decent spending money?"

"If my money offends you I can take it back."

"It doesn't offend me." That, Harry thought, was about as big a lie as he'd ever heard Draco utter. "I'm just used to more, that's all."

"You're used to so much that you saw fit to spend more on a shirt than most wizards earn in a year," said Snape. "It's poor strategy to flaunt wealth to that degree, and as my son, you will not do it again, not even when you can afford to."

"Oh, so that hovel in Devon is a case of your strategically not flaunting your own means, Severus?"

"Draco!" shouted Harry, too appalled to let that comment pass.

Draco rounded on Harry. "I told you, didn't I, that it's only poor wizards who think having money is gauche?"

"You also told me that Lucius didn't approve of those diamond buttons either!"

"Touché," muttered Draco. "Can we be off now, Severus?"

Snape just stared at him.

"Oh fine, I apologise!" Draco suddenly blurted. "I don't know why I'm in such a foul mood, I really don't. I should be happy to be adopted. I am happy. I'm ecstatic, overjoyed! But at the same time I just feel so... irritated! About everything!" He turned away in a swirl of cloak that echoed Snape's flair for the dramatic. But Draco wasn't being dramatic for show, not that time.

Walking over to where his brother stood, Harry spoke quietly over his shoulder. "It's horribly confusing at first. I know, Draco."

"Yeah," said Draco, turning around again, this time slowly. "Maybe that's it." He looked a bit lost for a second, and then as though he couldn't bear for anyone to see that, he adopted his superior air again. "Or maybe I just need a change of scenery. Merlin's word, I'm tired of my universe being limited to these rooms and Devon. Can we be off?"

"In a moment. Harry, do be sure to visit soon, and please remember that if you need any help with your... ah, project, I'll be entirely at your disposal."

"What project?" asked Draco, narrowing his gaze.

Harry couldn't imagine why the well-wish should have to be a secret, but Snape evidently felt it should be. "Uh...."

"Integrating himself into his new house," said Snape with a tight smile. "Harry's still intent on that but as you've just expressed in extraordinarily clear terms just how much you detest Slytherin, I wasn't sure you'd still appreciate the prospect."

Draco made a face. "Probably still a good idea, if for no other reason than that Harry's plenty Slytherin himself." His voice acquired a smug tone as he shook a chiding finger in Harry's face. "It's no good to live in denial, you know. Best to face facts."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said, even as he shoved Draco's hand down.

"But... be careful," cautioned Draco, all at once dropping his condescending air. "I mean it, Harry. Bella and Erik are probably just the tip of the iceberg. You won't know whom to trust, so promise me you won't trust anyone. Not one Slytherin, promise. Well, except for Severus."

"And you."

Draco gave him a swift look, but before he could reply, Snape had taken him by the arm and was ushering him out.

-----------------------------------------------

"Draco Snape," said Ron, shaking his head as he reached for another slice of pumpkin bread that evening at dinner. "That's just strange."

"Can you stop saying that?" Harry asked with exasperation, as that was about the fifth time Ron had brought it up. He looked around for Hermione but it didn't look like she'd ever returned from her Arithmancy review with the Ravenclaws. Too bad. She was usually pretty good at talking sense to Ron. "He's tired of people confusing him with Lucius, all right?"

"It's still strange. And you and him brothers, I mean actual brothers..."

"Yeah, well we were already, I told you that. So now it's official." Harry shrugged, and made a show of concentrating on his meal. It didn't work.

"I thought you were mental and you'd come to your senses eventually! But this... this isn't going to go away!"

"No, it's not." Setting his fork down with a thud, Harry stared across the table at his best friend. "Are we going to have another huge row? Because I'm getting pretty tired of your not being there for me, Ron."

"I... Look, Harry, it's a bit much is all--"

"It's the way things are," Harry shot back. "Like Severus being my dad. I put up with shite from you over that because keeping your friendship was worth it, but I'm really hoping you can be a little more grown up about things this time."

"But it's Draco, this time! Draco sodding Malfoy, Harry--"

"No, it's Draco Snape, and he's my brother!" Realising he was breathing hard, Harry tried his best to calm down. "Look, how would you feel if I hassled you all the time about Percy?"

"It's hardly the same thing! Percy's a bit of a prat but he's not anything like... him."

Harry decided it wouldn't do much good to start detailing all the reasons he had to dislike Percy Weasley. "Ron, I'm not saying you have to be mates with him or anything like that. Just don't be a bastard to him, that's all I'm asking. Don't start anything."

"Like I ever have!"

Harry leaned forward on his elbows. "You're even poorer than a Weasley... you call that not starting anything?"

"Well, it was true," Ron said in a voice just about as smug as the one Draco had been using lately. "And serves him right after all the cracks he's made about my dad's job over the years."

"It's not true now. He's just inherited another huge vault."

"Figures. Who'd he kill?"

That was close enough to the truth that Harry flushed.

Ron's voice dropped to a bare whisper. "Oh, shite. You mean he really did kill somebody?"

"No, of course not!" Harry sighed then. "Look, it's kind of complicated and nobody has any proof, and none of it is Draco's doing, but the inheritance does look a bit sticky. Not that it bothers Draco one bit. The way he was raised was pretty sick, I think. And if I can say that then you know it really was. But that's all beside the point. Are you going to give me grief and try to get me to turn my back on him the way you did with me and Snape? Because I won't do it."

Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, listen. You're acting kind of like a little kid at Christmas, don't you think? This brother thing is like you have some new toy, all shiny and exciting. And you can't help it because you were starved for family growing up. But the shine's going to come off and you're going to see that Draco Snape isn't so very different from Draco Malfoy, after all."

"I think it's safe to say the shine's off already," said Harry, thinking of Draco's atrocious behaviour. "But you've got it wrong if you think this is only about me having a brother. As far as I'm concerned, the best thing about all of this is that I get to be a brother, see? I'm not about to be a bad one, I'm just not."

Picking up his fork, Ron pressed the tines over and over into his mushy peas, making a right mess of his plate. "Yeah, okay, I see what you mean. I don't know why you have to lecture me, anyway. I didn't pick a fight with him, not once in all those times we visited the... you know. And I testified at his stupid hearing. For him. Now that's going above and beyond. I don't remember him thanking me, either."

"I'll mention the oversight. So are we all right?"

"Yeah, we're all right," muttered Ron. "I don't like it but... yeah, we're all right."

"Good." Harry grinned, and grabbed a banana from the platter that had just appeared.

-----------------------------------------------

Monday morning dawned bright and clear. For his part, Harry found it hard to believe that only one week earlier, he'd been ill with anxiety over getting back to classes. Things just seemed normal again; everybody was even used to his Parseltongue incantations by then. Well, everybody except Professor Aran, but Harry was practising on his own to make up for class being a waste of his time. Then again, Aran's class always had been a waste of his time.

Charms and Transfiguration went fine, and with Sals there to help, Harry finally mastered the Gantus Floramus transformation and produced a lovely bouquet of foxgloves. Just for fun, he gave them to Hannah Abbot, who clearly didn't know what to do with Parseltongue-created flowers. She did take them, though. Harry supposed that was worth something.

He decided he ought to bring Sals along to all his classes, just in case he was having trouble figuring out alternate ways to say things in Parseltongue. Of course, they didn't learn too many new spells in Care of Magical Creatures, which came right after lunch, but Harry knew that if he brought Sals along he wouldn't have to listen to her later say that Hedwig was looking at her funny. Sals still thought that Harry's owl was going to eat her, though Harry had explained more than once that Hedwig would never do a thing like that to another one of Harry's pets.

Sals had replied that as Harry couldn't talk to Hedwig to be sure, she was still afraid. And Hedwig, she'd said with a little tremor coursing up and down her slender body, was simply huge.

Too bad I don't speak Owlish as well, Harry had thought more than once over the past week.

He'd got Sals another box, of course. The one Dudley had originally brought her in, but that hardly helped the situation. Any hole big enough for the snake to slither through was also big enough for Hedwig to reach a clawed toe into. And that wasn't even counting the fact that Hedwig wasn't the only familiar to reside in Gryffindor Tower. Harry supposed he could tuck the box--Sals inside--away in a drawer or something. That would keep cats and owls away, but it hardly seemed fair to his snake. So for the time being, he was stowing Sals in a pocket whenever he left his dormitory.

Maybe Hagrid will have some ideas, Harry thought as he left the Great Hall and headed outside for his Care of Magical Creatures class. As it turned out, it was in that class that his day began to get interesting, though that had nothing to do with Sals and everything to do with Theodore Nott.

The Slytherin boy left his usual clique of house mates and sort of hung out near Harry as Hagrid lectured, then moved a step or two closer just as the half-giant instructed them to choose up partners.

"Don't think I've worked with you before, Potter," Nott said casually from right beside him, so close that Harry almost jumped. "I'd say it's about time, especially as you're in Slytherin now. All right?"

"Yeah, all right," Harry said, the words coming out a little slowly. From ten feet away, Ron stopped in his tracks and frowned. Shrugging, Harry made a slight gesture indicating he could work with Hermione. Ron frowned even worse at that, but Harry didn't have time to think about it as he turned back to Nott. He needed to keep all his wits about him. "So... hydra eggs. Well, that's a relief. I was a little worried we'd have to tangle with the real thing."

"Maybe we will, after they hatch," said Nott, shaking his head as he walked the short distance to where Hagrid was handing them out. He came back with two and offered one to Harry. "Still, no-one's died yet in one of these classes, so I suppose we're in no real danger... hmm, though Malfoy did have that awful gash to his arm that time. How's he holding up, anyway?"

Harry couldn't tell if the question was sincere or some type of bait, and he sure couldn't forget he was talking to not just a Slytherin, but the child of an active Death Eater. Given all that, he didn't have the first idea how to answer, but he had to say something... "Um, he's doing all right. It's Snape now, though, not Malfoy."

Nott turned his egg over in his hands and tapped the brittle shell with a fingernail. "Yeah, we all read that in the Sunday Prophet. Bella almost fainted."

Seeing Hagrid coming close, Harry hurriedly began tapping his own egg. Sure enough, the tiny animal inside reacted to that by jumping slightly. It was really kind of interesting, but he couldn't spare time to think about the baby hydra, not after what Nott had just said. Bella had almost fainted?

"So why would that be?"

Nott chuckled. "Didn't Mal--... hmm. Draco. Didn't Draco mention that she'd testified against him?"

Harry figured that his best strategy would be to play dumb. Maybe that way Nott would fill him in, and in so doing, mention something that really was news to Harry. Or, the Slytherin boy would say something Harry knew to be untrue. Either way, Harry would be ahead. "He didn't really say much about it."

Nott gave him an odd look, but then the other boy shrugged. "Oh, all right. Well, Bella told the Aurors that she'd seen Draco on the Owlery stairs just after the murder."

"What a total bitch!" exclaimed Harry, figuring that he ought to seem mad. After all, it was supposed to be the first time he'd heard about Bella's lies. "Draco was with me all that day. We were making deafening potions. And anyway, why would the name change bother her?" Tossing out some bait of his own, Harry diffidently added, "Well, unless it's because she publicly slandered her Head of House's son. I suppose that might be a worry."

Nott's lips twisted in a wry smile. "Potter, if we worried about slandering our Head of House's son... Well, let's just say that your own adoption wasn't exactly welcome news to us. At least we didn't have to find that one out from a newspaper, though. Snape came and told us."

Harry's wanted to know every detail, but he tried not to seem too eager. "That must have been an interesting conversation."

"Wasn't much conversation to it."

Harry wanted to ask what that meant, but he had a feeling that Nott intended for him to, so he held off. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes, the other boy resumed. "He just came in and announced it plain as day. Well, first he sort of summarised Samhain for us, and pointed out that even people who thought the Dark Lord's ideas were good ought to recognise that assassinating children wasn't... um, amongst the best traditions of pure-blooded society, something like that. Then he said that adoption was, and that you'd done him the honour of becoming his son, and that we'd sure as shite better remember it if we decided to mess with you."

Harry's throat felt a bit clogged after the done him the honour comment, but that last bit helped the feeling go away.

"You're having me on. No way did Snape say sure as shite."

"I'm paraphrasing, Potter." Nott looked him up and down. "Is it true you were stuck with needles all over? Snape wouldn't really say, though of course we knew about the eye thing."

"Yeah, it's true." Harry had thought he was over all that, so he wasn't sure why a convulsive shiver sort of wrapped itself around him. He shifted on his feet and looked away, biting the inside of his cheek for a second, and tried to get his mind off Samhain. "So what happened right after Snape said all that?"

Nott got a wry look on his face. "Nothing. He just looked around with those black eyes of his like he was challenging anybody to argue with him, though he must have known all along that nobody would dare. What sort of Slytherin would takes an enemy on to his face?"

"So Snape's your enemy, then?"

Nott blew out a breath. "What do you expect me to say, Potter? There are quite a few in Slytherin who weren't too happy when he betrayed the cause we've been raised to follow."

"Your cause stinks. Draco had enough sense to see as much." Harry stopped then, before he overplayed his hand. It wasn't true that Draco thought the Death Eaters' cause was wrong. Well, not that Harry knew, anyway. Draco simply understood that he was better off not committing himself to the kind of submission Voldemort demanded from his followers. "Anyway, back to Bella. I don't know what her problem is, but there's no way Draco could have killed Pansy."

"Well, I never could see that he had all that much reason to," said Nott in a lower voice than before. "I know, he put her in St. Mungo's... but then when Christmas rolled around, he sent her this really fancy locket. She showed it off until we all just basically wanted to puke. Anyway though, there were pictures of the two of them inside it, so I knew that Draco must have gotten over the snake thing." Nott pulled his wand and cast Lumos, pointing the light so he could see the tiny developing hydra inside the egg.

As far as Harry was concerned, they'd somehow strayed from the subject he was trying to pursue. "So what is Bella's problem, then? Did she give any reason about why the announcement in the paper upset her?"

"Oh, sure." Nott rotated his hydra egg and kept peering at it. "She said it was because Draco had murdered Pansy and she was probably next on his list, something like that. But since I never did think Draco had killed Pansy, that just didn't add up. I figure she's afraid because she knows that Draco's not too likely to just put up with what she did. He'll want revenge, and what's more, he'll know how to take it."

Harry turned that over in his mind. "But why would she take that risk, if she's so afraid of Draco?"

Nott cast him an incredulous look. "You're kidding, right? Or, maybe not. You still do have a lion on your crest as well, so I guess you just don't think quite like we do. Bella thought Draco was going to be expelled, obviously. In fact, if you ask me, she must have had assurances to that effect or she'd never have spoken out against him. When she saw his new name and realised it must mean he was still living here... then she started to worry."

"Makes sense." Harry kept his voice casual. "But Draco won't do anything to hurt her, I don't think."

"Look, it seems pretty clear you two get on all right these days, but if you tell me he doesn't have a violent bone in his body I'll laugh, Potter. I really will."

Harry couldn't help but think of Dubby, of Draco hurling him against a hard stone wall and taking vicious pleasure in the poor elf's pain. Even Draco's casual acceptance of his new vault... blood money, as far as Harry was concerned, said loud and clear that for all Draco had aligned himself with the side of Light, he didn't share all their values. "No, I wouldn't say that."

Nott nodded as though in approval, then glanced down at Harry's egg. "Don't you want to see your hydra?"

"Yeah." Harry had been putting off incanting his own Lumos, mostly because the Parseltongue version he'd finally devised really didn't bear any resemblance to the normal spell. It couldn't, or he'd end up either with glowing fingers or a wand blasting out enough power to take apart walls. He'd figured out a way around that problem though. "Firefly," he said as he stared straight at the ring his father had transfigured. "Stuck to my stick."

A tiny spark of light appeared at the end of his wand. It wasn't coming from his wand, but it looked more or less like it was. Harry smiled, realising he really shouldn't have hesitated. It wasn't like Nott could understand Parseltongue and know he'd asked for the magical equivalent of a firefly. Actually, as Harry peered through the now-translucent shell, it struck him that Nott didn't seem disturbed at all by the Parseltongue. The Slytherin boy even wondered out loud if it would work on hydras. Harry said that he expected not. After that, the boys weighed and measured their eggs as directed, not talking too much more until their work was through.

It was almost time for class to end when Nott asked, "So what's up with you in Defence this year?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, you heard... oh, you were out sick, right. It's just that Aran doesn't like Parseltongue. Said I can't use it."

"But..." The other boy looked away as if embarrassed. "Look, it's none of my business and it's probably a stupid question besides. But the talk going around is you can't cast in anything but. Is that true?"

Another shrug, this one carefully careless. Strange phrase, Harry thought, but it was accurate. "Well, I don't expect it's any secret that my magic was gone for a while and it's come back wonky."

"In that case, Aran's a jerk."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. It unnerved him to be in agreement with Theodore Nott over anything, but he tried not to let that bother him.

"Snape would take care of him in two seconds' flat, you know."

"Look, just because my father works here doesn't mean I'm going to go running to him with every little thing... what?"

Nott shook his head. "It's nothing to do with that, Potter," he said in slightly scornful tones. "You don't understand. No wonder, we've always thought McGonagall was a bit of an odd duck, so maybe you don't know what a Head of House is supposed to do. They way we hear it, she hardly ever even sets foot in your common room! Anyway, though, Snape looks out for us with the other teachers. You tell him about Aran and he'll set it right."

"I don't want special treatment."

"It's not special in the least, Potter. Snape would do it for any one of us. Well, except maybe Bella and Erik."

"Erik Vanvelzeer?" Harry furrowed his forehead. "You know, Snape mentioned wanting to talk to both of them. Do you know if he's had a chance?"

Nott frowned. "No idea. But back to your problem. You shouldn't just put up with Aran's shite. Snape told us way back that you were in Slytherin too, on account of the adoption. And Slytherins just don't lie down and let themselves get stepped on, Potter."

"Look, I'll handle Aran myself," snapped Harry, a little unnerved by the advice. Ron and Hermione had thought he should go to his father, and now here was Nott thinking the same, though he cast it more as a case of going to one's Head of House. Of course there was no telling what Nott's true motive was. Maybe he just wanted to see if he had any influence over Harry, which in itself was a good argument for letting the Aran situation alone.

Besides, he didn't want Draco to get the idea that Harry was competing with him for Snape's time or attention. Best to handle things on his own for the time being. And if Aran got even more unreasonable, Harry decided, he'd tell McGonagall about it. After all, he had been a Gryffindor for a lot longer, and if McGonagall stepped in, it wouldn't look like Harry had run crying to his father.

He hated that thought.

When class was winding down, Harry handed his egg to Nott to put away, then walked over to where Hagrid stood watching them. Fishing Sals out of his pocket, he passed her over into the half-giant's hands.

"Ach, she is summat beautiful, 'Arry, she surely is," Hagrid said, holding the little snake up high and reaching out a huge finger to gently stroke the top of her head. "And 'ow do yeh like yer charmed box, eh? Nice and warm, isn't it?"

Sals hissed that she liked the big man very much.

Harry smiled at that, but made sure he looked away from his snake before he started speaking. "Actually she loved that box but Draco... um, broke it. So now I have her in the wooden box she first came in, but Sals is afraid she'll get eaten by one of the other animals in the Tower. She is pretty small. I wondered if you had any ideas?"

"A repellin' charm might be jus' the thing." Hagrid lowered his large hands and passed Sals back over to Harry. "Yeh can look one up in the library. Don't remember the incantation, but if yeh find one with critters in mind, yeh'll be able to tell yer snake that she'll be the only thing can go in 'er box."

Harry smiled. "That sounds perfect. Um, as long as I'm at it, do you think I should look for a warming charm too?"

"Now fer that, I'd ask yer father," Hagrid said, his beard jiggling as he shook his head. "Too strong a charm there and yer snake won't exactly thank yeh."

Right, that one did sound trickier. Harry put it on his list of things to talk to Snape about once it seemed like Draco felt a bit more able to share him. "Thanks, Hagrid. Oh... you said once you might be able to tell if Sals is a little bit magical?"

Hagrid leaned down and peered closely at the snake. "Can't tell yeh fer certain, but I'd say she's likely jus' a snake."

Nodding, Harry tucked Sals back into a pocket, then walked back to where the students were waiting for Hagrid to dismiss them. When Harry began the trek back up to the castle, Nott fell into step beside him. Ron didn't look pleased, but he was good enough not to openly glare. He trailed along at a distance, his wand hand tensed and ready.

Harry caught his eye, then shrugged to say he was mystified by Nott but wanted to see what he could find out.

"So I was thinking," said Nott when they were about halfway up the hill. "If you're going to go around sporting a snake on your crest, you ought to get to know us a little better, don't you think?"

Harry glanced around. "Actually, I don't think anybody else in Slytherin wants to know me. Not sure why you do, actually."

Nott lowered his voice and steered Harry away from the other students, though the Slytherins were already cutting them a wide berth. "Letters," he whispered, looking left and right in rapid succession.

Harry pitched his voice equally low. "Oh. You're one of the students Draco's been writing to?"

"Yeah. He makes... ah, a certain lifestyle sound not so very appealing, if you catch my meaning. Listen, I don't expect you to believe a word I say, especially since if you ask around you'll find out I talked pretty tough about how Draco must have lost his mind. I had to, Potter. I wasn't sure his change of loyalties was for real, at first. I thought it all might be some complicated scheme his father had cooked up."

"To deliver me back to Voldemort?"

Nott nodded, a muscle in his throat jerking when he heard that name. "And also to identify disloyal elements in Slytherin. But after a while, Pansy was starting to really think Draco had a safe way out. I could tell. And well, now it's all obvious that I was being too suspicious. Draco's on the up-and-up, all right. I mean, you obviously think so, and after what his father did, I figure you'd pretty much be a stickler for proof."

"To say the least," Harry murmured. "He's for real, all right."

Nott nodded, the motion slight enough that nobody but Harry could likely detect it. "So about Slytherin," he resumed in a louder voice. "You're welcome to dine at our table. You've a right to, in fact."

Harry had planned to go eat with the Slytherins sooner or later, but the offer still took him aback. He couldn't quite figure out if Nott was sincere, or up to no good. In other circumstances he'd probably repeat the entire conversation to Draco and see what the other boy said, but the mood Draco was in these days, he'd just snarl that all of Slytherin was out to get him and Harry'd be better off letting the lot of them rot. Then he'd start making fun, say something about Harry being too dim to see a plot if it was about to bite him.

"I'll think about it," Harry only said.

Nott lowered his voice again. "Good. But listen, there might be some resentment, so it'd be best to wait for a night when Snape's at the head table and can look out for you. Not to imply you can't look out for yourself... but, um, the way I hear it you pretty much can't. And even if you could, you've got no idea how... sneaky Slytherins can be."

Oh, yes I do, thought Harry, but being more than a bit sneaky himself, he wasn't going to say so. "Thanks for the advice," he said with a smile. "I have to catch up with my friends now, all right? But I'll think about the dinner thing. And I guess I'll see you in Potions tomorrow. 'Bye, Nott."

The Slytherin boy nodded briefly.

When Harry reached Ron and Hermione, he glanced back to find Theodore Nott still watching him. He met Harry's gaze, his own rather troubled, and gave a strange half-wave that anybody else would think was him batting away a bee.

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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other

Chapter Eighty: Potions

Comments very welcome,

Aspen

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