Slytherin Saviors

Disclaimer-Not mine. If they were, I wouldn't be working for an insane boss.

Harry closed the door behind him and started down the hallway. His mind was whirling. Nothing made any sense. The scene with Snape, the events of the Sorting, the altercation with Draco…none of it. He was walking on autopilot and it wasn’t until he reached the second set of steps that he realized he was going the wrong direction for his new dorms. He slumped against the wall. His shoulders were shaking with suppressed emotions.

Shaking even harder he stood and fled. He paid no attention to where he was going. Instead he ran as fast as he could. The rattling and clanking of bottles in his robes was ignored. Eventually he found himself in Trelawney’s classroom. He looked around wondering why he had come here. Deep inside the answer was there. She was where it all started: the prophesy, his parents death, his life in general and it was with her that he would have to accept things and move on.

Slowly he moved to the small pile of large cushions and sat down. Not for the first time he wondered how it was such a fraudulent bat could actually get a true prophecy much less at least two. He was feeling disconnected and wondered if some of her nasty incense was still lingering in the room. With everything that had happened today his mind didn’t seem to be working right. Why couldn’t he hold a single thought? He remembered again the scene with Draco. He spoke parseltongue again! He had vowed not to do it again since learning it was a Dark Art and something else he shared with The Dark Lord. Did Voldemort ever chit-chat with a snake about room temperatures and the quality of white mice versus field mice? What would he say when he learned his own little rule was about to back-fire and protect his worst enemy was now protected? And what did that protection mean? Was he now doomed to be a Dark Lord? Kill one evil maniac only to become the replacement. What was he going to do about Potions? He didn’t have the books or supplies? Would Hermione loan her stuff to him? Would she even speak to him?

Harry wished he could focus on one thought for just a moment. He pressed a hand to his scar. It didn’t burn it was just habit and his head hurt. It was all too much. If only Sirius was still alive so he could talk to him. But Sirius hated Slytherins so he would hate Harry. For the first time Harry felt a brief spark of happiness that his godfather was dead so he didn’t have to live with his disappointment and hatred. He couldn’t deal with someone else that was supposed to love him hating him. And the people that hated him were now supposed to be his friends and protectors. He felt hysterical laughter bubbling up inside him begging to be let loose. He clamped his lips together as an image of Draco and Snape standing in front of him, wands raised defending him against a group of Gryffindors and the Dark Lord and Death Eaters all working together to get to him. Wasn’t there something about “the enemy of mine enemy is my friend” or something like that? Harry shuddered and broke that line of thought. Great, first time he could focus on a single thought for more than a second and it was that one!

Dragging his thoughts together he tried to find something he actually wanted to focus on. He shifted on the surprisingly comfortable cushions getting more comfortable. It was then that he noticed the itching was still there but his back didn’t hurt. He wiggled his toes and felt the lack of pain.

It was two days before he was to leave for Hogwarts when Dudley had called Harry’s name. When Harry went to see what he wanted, Dudley had simply told him to stand right there, then jumped off the last three steps. With his approximately giant squid sized mass he landed on Harry’s foot. He couldn’t prevent a scream of pain and when Uncle Vernon had come in the pictures on the wall were still shaking from the force of Dudley’s landing. Dudley of course blamed Harry’s “freakishness” in making the pictures move and told Uncle Vernon that Harry was using magic again. His mind shied away from the blows his uncle had dealt him before Harry could run with his broken toes.

Now after days of constant pain, it was gone. He had Snape of all people, to thank for the pain-free moments. That was just something else he didn’t understand. He knew the hands that ran over his neck and chest were gentle. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought the greasy git was behaving…well, like he cared or something. But of course he didn’t. He hated Harry because he was like James.

Slowly exhaustion swept through Harry. Healing energy, his panic attack earlier and a long day of mental and physical pain caught up to him in a rush. As he fell asleep he remembered the cool feel of his professor with the detached voice talking calmly to him. In the hazy limbo between sleep and wakefulness Harry allowed himself to believe that perhaps someone could care for him and take care of him and best of all, be there when he needed him. It was a belief that would not stay with him once he woke. In fact, this was a memory that he wouldn’t even remember.

When he woke the next morning it was to incredibly bright sunlight, far too early. He blinked and shifted away from where the light was shining directly into his eyes. It was the tinkling sound of glass and the feel of soft cushions that brought the memories flooding back. Harry sat up slowly letting the memories filter through not trying to make any sense of what happened. The bottles reminded him; he was supposed to take one when he first woke up.

Fumbling through his robes he found the right bottle and quickly downed it. He grimaced slightly at the taste that wasn’t completely hidden by the faint mint flavor. He blinked a few times at the strange feelings in his stomach. He didn’t even realize that his stomach had that many pains. He looked at the paper he had tucked in his pocket and read what it was…an ulcer potion. Huh, weird. He was only sixteen and sixteen year olds didn’t get ulcers did they? How did Snape know he had an ulcer? Why didn’t Harry know himself?

Slowly Harry made his way down to the dungeons. He was half afraid of what he would find down there. When he did get to his new dorm the scene wasn’t what he expected. Blaise and Draco appeared to have been in an argument that stopped when he entered the room. Draco’s lips pressed together tightly when he saw Harry and Harry himself fought back a snicker at the way he looked and how much it resembled McGonagall.

“Um, what’s going on?” he asked hesitantly. Draco didn’t answer. He glared at the intruder and stormed off pushing him out of the way.

Harry watched him leave wide-eyed and slightly confused. Blaise sighed and answered the question.

“He was worried Potter. We all were.” Harry turned and looked at the rest of the room. Nott, Crabbe and Goyle all nodded.

Harry’s brow furrowed with confusion. “Why?”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Because you were gone all night idiot! We had no idea where you were. What if The Dark Lord had gotten you? What if someone from another house decided they didn’t like The-Boy-Who-Lived being a Slytherin and decided to teach you a lesson? Where the hell were you?” Blaise had slowly raised his voice until the last bit was a shout.

“Um, I fell asleep in the tower. Kinda an accident really. Didn’t mean to worry you. What do you mean if someone taught me a lesson?” Harry was starting to feel the familiar confusion again. This was really getting old. He wished someone could just help him set things straight in his mind.

He moved to his bed to get clothes from his trunk only to discover his stuff wasn’t where he left it the night before. He was ignoring Blaise’s ranting as he looked around the room in confusion spotting his things in front of the bed by the door. But wasn’t that Blaise’s bed?

Harry interrupted his roommate’s ranting. “Um, why is my stuff over here now?” he asked.

Blaise froze mid-sentence. “Potter, after your little scene last night, we decided that it would be best to move you.” This was explained in the very patient tones of someone speaking to a child.

Harry nodded, more out of surprise than anything else. He pulled the potions bottles out of his pocket and placed them on his bed before gathering up some clothes. He sighed heavily as he looked through the clothes trying to find some of the least hideous and somewhat fitting clothes. It was still too warm for one of Mrs. Weasley’s jumpers and the rest of the clothes were all Dudley’s hand-me-downs. Finally he found a shirt with only a few small stains and a pair of jeans that didn’t have any tears. Well, except for the hems. Even when he rolled up his pants they were still too large and he tended to walk on the hems a lot.

He gathered the clothes and looked through the potions bottles. He put away one of the bruise creams in his trunk along with several of the pain potions. He realized as he was putting those away that there was still pain lingering in his chest and back and toes in spite of how much better they felt. His throat was also a bit tender. He considered downing a pain potion and wondered how long it had been since taking the ulcer potion.

He left the vial on the bed along with the one to take before eating and the nutrient potion. Snape had said something about having to take the one before every meal and the other twice a day but he had only given Harry one of each of them. He would have to ask him about them later.

For the moment, Harry gathered his things together including the bruising salve and headed for the shower. He double checked that his father’s cloak and map and his photo album were still safely tucked away before locking the trunk and leaving.

Harry avoided looking in the mirror once in the bathroom. He didn’t want to see the ugly marks just yet. The warm water pouring over his skin was soothing. After a summer of being allowed only very brief cold water showers which his aunt timed, this felt like a luxury.

After washing himself completely, scrubbing his skin nearly raw and washing his hair twice he finally felt like he was clean. Clean in a way he hadn’t been able to achieve all summer long. He thought longingly of the prefect bathroom with the large tub and many bubbles.

When he stepped out of the shower he was able to look at himself in the mirror for the first time. Slowly he turned and looked at his back. It was still covered in welts and bruises but didn’t look nearly as bad as it did the day before. His neck still showed the imprint of Vernon’s chubby fingers but even those were fading.

Harry was grateful that he had remembered to grab the salve as he spread it over the bruises on his neck and chest. He winced at the tenderness of the spots. Finally finishing with his morning routine and gathering up his stuff he braced himself to return to the room.

When he entered this time he found Draco had returned. Everyone seemed to be waiting for him and he wondered for a few moments why. The new Slytherin debated if he should ask Draco to help with his back, before deciding he would rather heal naturally before asking the blond pain in the arse for help with anything.

“Potter, Snape wants you in his office before breakfast so hurry up,” the other boy said, as if on cue.

Harry sighed. “Now what the hell does that git want?” he muttered. He ignored the muffled snorts of surprised laughter from his other roommates. This day was rapidly shaping up to be worse than the day before. At least the pain wouldn’t be a factor. Speaking of the pain, he downed the pain potion having determined enough time had passed.

Harry tucked the other two bottles into his robe pockets with the bruise salve and grabbed a tie from his trunk. He was just about to put in on when Blaise stopped him.

The other boy didn’t say a word, just took the red and gold tie from his hand and placed a silver and green one in it. Harry looked at the tie for a moment before nodding his thanks.

As he left the room to head to see the potions’ professor before going to breakfast, he noticed his roommates falling into what appeared to be a pre-arranged pattern. When they entered the hallway, Draco and Blaise took up position on either side of the green-eyed brunette, Crabbe and Goyle fell into step behind them. Harry shook his head slightly in wonderment. It all felt too strange and he made a mental note to ask about it later.

When they got to the professor’s office, everyone waited on either side of the door while Harry let himself inside. He felt much like he had that summer when he had gone to Diagon Alley under Auror guards to protect him. They had shown up at his house to escort him to and from home. He wasn’t allowed to explore or waste any time. Just get school supplies and rushed right back home.

Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever it was Snape wanted to talk to him about this morning. He really didn’t mind too much. He needed the git to apply the salve to his back and there was still the issue of whether the man was going to talk to Dumbledore. Also the issue of books and supplies for Potions class.