Harry's Head of House

Harry's Head of House

Chapter 1

"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat shouted and under the immense applause of the Gryffindors Harry took a seat at his new House table.

As soon as all first years were sorted, the Headmaster rose to make an announcement. "Dear students, welcome to Hogwarts for the first years, welcome back for all the others. For this year, we have made other arrangements than in recent years concerning the Heads of the Houses. This year, Professor Flitwick will be the Hufflepuff Head of House, Professor Sprout the Slytherin Head of House, while Professor McGonagall will be responsible for Ravenclaw and Professor Snape for Gryffindor. This arrangement is new for everyone and I expect all of you to cooperate with your House mates and your teachers. Now, that was enough of my babbling, tuck in everyone!" he continued over the huge collective groan that could be heard from the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables.

With that the meal appeared on the tables. "Which one is Professor Snape?" Harry asked the Weasley twins, who were sitting to his left side and groaned at the question.

"The one with the long black hair that looks greasy if you're near him," George whispered, pointing to the Head table.

"That's the worst that could have happened," his twin Fred agreed.

Harry, who had followed the twins' outstretched fingers, looked at the man, who chose the same moment to glance at him, and Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead. 'Ouch, that hurt,' he mused, wearily putting up a hand to his scar.

Nobody could say that he wasn't used to pain; his uncle had provided for that, especially since it was clear that Harry was going to attend Hogwarts.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione, the girl that was sitting on his other side, asked in concern.

"Yes; it just hurt for a moment, but I'm fine," Harry replied quickly and turned back to his dinner. Everything on the plates looked absolutely delicious, but after a few bites he felt so full that he was afraid to get sick if he ate more.

After dinner, Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor fifth year prefect, led the first years to the Gryffindor common room and showed them where their dormitories were, explaining that they had to go to bed immediately on the first evening.

Harry and his roommates had just arrived in their dormitory when the sixth year prefect stuck his head through the door. "Sorry to disturb you, lads, but Professor Snape wants us all down in the common room for a House meeting," he announced.

Harry tiredly dragged himself back down the stairs, wondering what the House meeting would be about. The teacher introduced himself, held a small monologue about House unity, and told them that the sixth year students had to take turns in the common room, so that every evening there would be two sixth year students, whom the younger students could ask if they had questions.

"Additionally, I'll be present in the common room from half an hour before curfew until curfew every night, and you're welcome to ask if you have any questions. I don't mind if it concerns your studies or private matters. The door to my office has been moved and is now right next to your portrait hole. You're welcome to come and see me whenever you encounter any problems."

'He doesn't sound too bad,' Harry mused, wondering why his older House mates had reacted so badly on the news that they had a new Head of House this year.

The teacher's silky voice pulled Harry out of his thoughts. "I wish all the first years to go to the hospital wing with me for a quick check up by our Mediwitch, Madam Pomfrey. All the others are dismissed; you know your bed times. All first years follow me, please."

'Oh no!' Harry thought absolutely terrified. 'What am I going to do? What if she notices the scars and bruises all over my body, especially on my back?'

"Harry!" Ron called out to him before he could begin to panic, and Harry noticed that he was waiting at the portrait hole.

"Oh sorry," Harry mumbled, hurrying after his new friend.

HP SNAPE'S POV HP

Severus proficiently watched his new first years. He wasn't a spy for nothing. Everyone seemed all right apart from... 'Potter!' he thought in complete surprise. 'Who would have thought that he might be abused? But it's so obvious; he's nearly panicking.'

"Let me assure you that Madam Pomfrey is not going to eat you alive," he sneered at the child, noticing that his face turned even whiter if that was still possible.

Severus led the first years into the hospital wing and introduced them to Madam Pomfrey, noticing that Potter's breathing became laboured. 'Why is he panicking because of seeing Poppy?' he mused, inwardly shaking his head, not aware of the fact that Harry had never been taken to a doctor or a Mediwitch before.

Madam Pomfrey ordered each of them to sit down on one of the white beds, before she waved her wand around the room, conjuring white curtains around each of the beds.

"Potter last," Severus whispered to his colleague, knowing that she would understand the complete meaning behind the short words.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Harry patiently waited on the crispy white bed that felt wonderfully comfortable to his aching limbs. He had the feeling that it took ages until the Mediwitch finally pulled the curtain away and approached his bed. 'I'm the last,' he observed, hesitantly glancing around.

The Mediwitch waved her wand at him, mumbling something, which he couldn't understand, before an immensely long parchment emerged from the tip of her wand. Pomfrey threw a look at the parchment and frowned, waving the professor over.

"May I leave?" Harry asked anxiously, causing the Mediwitch to throw him a surprised look.

"Wait a moment, dear," she replied absentmindedly, turning to Professor Snape. "He is in a horrible condition," she said in a small voice. "Several bones that must have been broken at some stage grew together improperly. He has bruises and welts all over his body, but what's even much worse is that his lungs are in a poor condition, causing him to have asthma. He is also severely malnourished. I've never seen a child in such a bad condition before. I can only guess, but it looks to me as if he wasn't only abused but also completely neglected."

"Did your relatives ever take you to a doctor or a Healer?" Snape asked softly.

"No," Harry replied in a hardly audible voice, lightly shaking his head. "Everything always went away after a few days, and they didn't want to spend the money for a doctor or even medicine on a freak like me." He stopped, horrified when he realized what he just told the Healer and his Head of House. "Err... no... I mean..."

"It's all right, dear," Madam Pomfrey said gently. "The more you tell us, the better we'll be able to help you, especially as I'm afraid that we'll see a lot of each other. Do you often get sick with colds and other illnesses?"

"Once I had a lung infection and had to miss school for a whole month, and since then I catch colds once a week," Harry admitted quietly.

"Severus, I'm glad that he's in your House," Pomfrey sighed, before she explained to Harry, "Professor Snape is the teacher here, who has the most of experience with abused or neglected children. He'll be the best to help you. I suggest that you remain here overnight, so that I can already heal your bruises while you're asleep. We'll have to break a few of your bones and let them grow together properly, which we will do slowly in the near future. However, I suppose that your left wrist is bothering you?"

"A bit," Harry whispered, while the memory of Uncle Vernon shoving him into his cupboard appeared in front of his mind.

"Then we're going to remedy that tonight too," Pomfrey said gently.

Harry threw Severus an anxious glance, sighing when the teacher gave him a comforting nod.

"I believe that would be the best, Potter. I'll come and get you right in time for breakfast tomorrow morning."

The professor bode them Good Night and strode out of the hospital wing, his black robes minaciously billowing behind him.

Madam Pomfrey quickly waved her wand at Harry, and to his amazement his robes were replaced with soft pyjamas.

"Thank you, Madam," he said gratefully.

"You're welcome, Harry. Sleep well," the kind lady replied, while she unobtrusively spelled a sleeping draught into the child's stomach, knowing that the next few hours wouldn't be pleasant for the boy if he was awake.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

When Harry took a shower in the morning, he noticed amazed that all of his bruises and welts were gone and that his left wrist was completely back to normal. He thanked the Mediwitch profusely and was told that he was expected to drink a nutrient potion twice a day that would automatically appear next to his plate at breakfast and dinner.

Shortly later, Professor Snape came and escorted him to the Great Hall, where his dorm mates were already assembled and worriedly enquired if he was all right.

"Professor Snape came in the evening and told us that you had to remain in the hospital wing, but he didn't tell us why," Hermione explained, giving him a piercing look.

"Oh, my left wrist that I broke before apparently healed improperly and Madam Pomfrey had to break and heal it," Harry replied quickly, feeling slightly annoyed by the attention. 'If they make such a fuss about one night in the hospital wing, how much of a fuss will they make if they see that I have to take a nutrient potion twice a day?' he mused horrified and resolved to ask Madam Pomfrey or Professor Snape if there was another way to get his potion than at the breakfast or dinner table.

HP SNAPE'S POV HP

Before the events of the previous evening, Severus had thought of a brilliant speech to give his first years, which was not so different from his normal speech, but it was followed by three difficult questions for their so-called 'new celebrity.' However, after he had met the offspring of his greatest rival and heard and seen what he had endured while he grew up with his abusive relatives, Snape decided to skip the well thought questions and just give the first years an easy introduction about magical and non magical ingredients. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the smallest Gryffindor step over to his desk while all the others were leaving the classroom.

"What's wrong, Mr. Potter?" he asked as gently as possible, raising an eyebrow at the child.

"I was just wondering if there was any other way to get my nutrient potion instead of at breakfast and dinner," Harry said softly. "I don't want all the others to know..." He slowly trailed off. "Sorry, Professor, for bothering you with such unimportant matters," he added hesitantly.

"No Mr. Potter, I can understand you very well, and it's all right for you to come to me whenever you have questions. The problem is that you have to take the potion after eating something. Therefore, to take it at breakfast is inevitable I believe. The second potion you could take in your dormitory before you go to bed."

'I wished I could offer him an alternative, but with his asthma it wouldn't do to let him climb up all the steps to my office after breakfast for the potion, if he had to hurry down all the way to his first class afterwards,' Severus mused, before he gently told the boy, "Well, try to eat as much as you can over the next time, and perhaps in a few weeks' time it will suffice to take the potion once a day."

"All right, Professor, thanks a lot," Harry replied politely and left the classroom.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Harry liked all his classes really well except for Defence against the Dark Arts. However, the fact that he didn't overly like that class didn't have anything to do with the content but with the fact that his scar always hurt when he was in that classroom.

'Something is strange with Professor Quirrel,' Harry mused and resolved to speak to his Head of House about the matter. 'Snape said I could always come to him, so I'll just ask him. Maybe he can help me or at least has an explanation for me.'

However, before Harry had the opportunity to speak with Professor Snape, something happened that made him forget the matter for the time being.

I'm not a native speaker of English; please excuse my mistakes or tell me, so that I can correct them.

All recognizable characters belong to J.K.Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.