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Snape noted some of the students' worried looks turning suspicious as Harry came forward willingly. He seized Harry by the scruff of the neck the instant he was within reach, and intoned, "Five points from Gryffindor for dawdling, Potter!"

"But, Professor, I wasn't тАУ" Potter's protest broke off with a squawk as Snape raised his arm, hoisting Harry onto his tiptoes and cutting off most of his air.

He spun around and stormed away, dragging Harry with him. Behind him, as the portrait closed, he could hear several comments, most of them containing the term "git". Well, at least they were no longer angry with Potter.

As soon as he turned the corner, he released his hold on the boy. Harry dragged at his collar and looked at Snape, wide eyed.

"Do not argue when I am deducting points, you foolish child," Snape scolded. "You will merely lose more for being rude."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry gulped. "But I wasn't trying to dawdle. Honest! I just couldn't get them to move."

"And you think I don't know that?" Snape demanded, catching Harry by the shoulder and pulling him along. "Don't I have eyes?"

"But тАУ but if you know that, then why did you take away points?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Because your fellow Gryffindors were becoming suspicious of your compliance with my orders," Snape retorted. "Your complacency in the face of their alarm was considered odd, and Gryffindors, being of little brain, do not like oddities."

Harry pondered this as he trotted at Snape's side. Finally working out the meaning, he frowned. "I don't think Gryffindors are of little brain. Hermione Granger's awfully smart."

"Hm. A veritable Ravenclaw in lion's skin," Snape said sarcastically.

Harry chewed his lip. He couldn't figure out why Snape wanted to talk with him. He hadn't even had Potions class that day. The last time he'd actually spoken to Snape had been the morning after his detention, when he was still in the Infirmary.

Snape had entered and promptly been pulled into Pomfrey's office. After a lengthy period, he had emerged with two bright spots of color on his cheekbones, while the medi-witch appeared grimly triumphant. She had ushered him over to Harry's bedside and left the two of them with a final, "And I'll be watching you, Severus!"

"Potter," Snape had growled.

"Yes, sir?" Harry had been cautiously optimistic. Snape had made him a promise that he was fiercely hoping the man intended to keep. Just because he could hit as hard as Uncle Vernon didn't mean he wouldn't keep his promisesтАж Did it?

"Potter. I owe you an apology," Snape had said in a rather strangled tone.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. An apology? From a grown up? What for? What would Snape have to apologize to him for?

Oh, no! Was he apologizing because he couldn't keep his promise? Was the Headmaster determined to expel Harry after all? It was true that his handwriting was awful and he didn't really know any of the material like Granger did, nor even much about the Wizarding world, like Ron did, but he was trying really, really hard. It had only been a few days! Surely they'd let him try a little longer before deciding he really was a worthless freak?

But no, if Snape were apologizing then it must be because he couldn't do the things he had promised about not being expelling Harry or returning him to the Dursleys.

"That's okay, sir," he said around the enormous, hot lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. "It's not your fault." He blinked hard, forcing back his tears. No one liked a crybaby.

He just hoped that Uncle Vernon wouldn't be too mad when he showed up again. Madame Pomfrey had just given him some awful tasting medicine that had healed all the welts and bruises on his bum as well as the cuts and lump on his head. He really didn't want to get another thrashing now that he was finally feeling better.

"What are you talking about, Potter?" the professor demanded angrily. Here he was, actually apologizing to a student, and the little idiot was only half listening. How dare he say it wasn't his fault! What was he suggesting, that Snape had been controlled by Voldemort's ghost?

" 'S okay," Harry insisted, hastily wiping at his eyes when the traitorous tears leaked out. "I know you tried. 'S my fault. I should've worked harder." Though in all honesty, he really didn't know how he could have. He was already staying up late every night trying to do all the reading and work on his handwriting and learn about wizarding society. "It'll be okay. They prob'ly won't be that mad." After all, his uncle's last words to him had been, "They're not going to like you any more than we do, you little freak!" Uncle Vernon would probably be pleased to have been proven right. That might save Harry from a beating for a day or two. Maybe longer, even, if he got right to work and painted the garden shed or something.

Snape ground his teeth in anger. What was the little brat babbling about? Why couldn't he just accept the apology, gloat like his bastard father would have, and let him return to his dungeons? But no, now he was whimpering and sniveling and acting as if Snape had fired a stinging hex at him. Any second now Poppy would be storming over, and this time she probably would make good on her threat. Snape really didn't want to see what a talented medi-witch considered "an appropriate punishment for child abusers". How dare the little monster play up like this just to get Snape into more trouble? "Stop that whining at once, Potter!"

Then something the brat said caught his attention: "Who won't be mad?" Dumbledore and the other staff were already mad at him, as the little creep must very well know. Why else would Poppy have hauled him bodily into her office as soon as he crossed the Infirmary's threshold? If he hadn't been so quick with a muffling spell, they would have heard her yelling at him all the way down in the Slytherin common room.

"My relatives," Harry answered, surprised.

Snape scowled horribly. Did the wretch think that he could threaten Snape with his Muggle relatives' displeasure? Would his dreadful uncle take exception to someone else using the boy as a punching bag? "What are you talking about? What do your relatives have to do with anything?"

"Wh-when you send me back. They didn't think they'd have to see me again until next year. I just meant that тАУ"

"What? Who's sending you back to those Muggles?" Snape exploded. "Did the Headmaster say that-"

Bad move. As soon as he started yelling at the brat, Pomfrey flew out of her office. "Severus Snape! I warned you! Now тАУ"

Rather more alarmed by her determined expression than he wanted to admit, Snape hurriedly pointed at Potter. "He said Albus is going to send him back to the Muggles!"

That distracted Poppy all right. "WHAT?" She was even louder and angrier than Snape. "HE SAID WHAT?"

Harry looked from one to the other, panicked. "No, no!" Somehow everyone was all confused, and he had a sinking feeling it was all his fault. Things usually were.

"ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, GET DOWN HERE!" Poppy stuck her head in the floo.

A moment later, the twinkling Headmaster appeared, only to be confronted by two irate staff members. "What do you mean, telling Harry he was going to return to his relatives?" Poppy demanded.

Dumbledore blinked. "What?"

Poppy turned to Snape, annoyed. "Isn't that what you told me?"

Snape turned to confront the boy, only to find an empty bed behind him. "Where is that little monster?" he seethed.

"Ahem." The Headmaster pointed.