Fellowship & Fairydust

By LastCrazyHorn

Word Count:

Rating: PG-13 for brief language, violence, and depictions of abuse

Summary: A disabled Harry comes to Hogwarts story. Everyone expects him to be like his dad, but how can he be with such a different past? A Slytherin Harry takes on Hogwarts in an unusual way.

Their defense class was a joke to everyone except Harry. He saw Quirrell as a threat, pure and simple.

Like his peers, he found the man’s stutters annoying, since they kept him from understanding most of his words, but that’s not why he didn’t like the class. The instant he had stepped foot inside Quirrell’s classroom, he had felt a chill sink into his bones. Teddy and the rest of the students seemed oblivious to the sensation, but he couldn’t help but feel a little more discomfited every time he had to attend that class.

It wasn’t just the space inside the room itself that made him uncomfortable, but he had found that even the desks themselves had a slimy texture to their surfaces that no amount of scrubbing seemed capable of removing. More importantly though, at least in his mind and body, was the fact that the vibration of everything around him was slightly off, slightly not right when he was around Quirrell, and he didn’t like it—not one bit.

The smell of garlic was pervasive within the defence classroom; Quirrell’s laughable response to the vampire in Romania that supposedly was coming to finish him off one day. In addition, the combination of scents and sensations he felt during each class left him slightly shaken and a touch ill afterwards—something Teddy noticed almost immediately.

“You should tell Snape,” was his blunt suggestion.

However, unused to asking for help of any kind, Harry already felt that he had admitted far too much to Snape, and opted to keep his mouth shut at least until he had a chance to research the problem on his own.

The next day, he and Teddy left breakfast early and headed for their first flying lesson. Teddy had never owned a broom of his own, but he had “borrowed” his cousins’ brooms throughout his childhood, only getting caught once.

“You get in trouble?”

“My da caught me, so yeah. Trouble,” was all Teddy had said, but it had been enough of an explanation.

They were nearly to the front doors when Teddy turned his head at something behind them. Following his friend’s lead, Harry turned to look too. It was Granger.

” . . . Going to the lesson?” He caught her say as she walked up to them.

“Uh huh,” Harry answered noncommittally and with a nod, he and Teddy moved outside.

A moment later, Granger popped up beside him again and began prattling on about what she had learned from the library on brooms. Harry snuck Teddy a bemused glance, but otherwise didn’t tell her off.

There were two rows of brooms awaiting them, and Teddy grinned at Harry when they realized they were the first to arrive.

At that moment, Granger said something that made him pay attention, and he turned to see, “It must be so interesting to be someone famous. Did you know you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century?”

Harry blinked at the overwhelming amount of information she was spewing at him.

“Got an obsession with him, then Granger?” Teddy answered in his silence.

The girl blushed and answered, “I’m just trying to learn all I can about the wizarding world. It’s all so fascinating, but especially the parts about you,” she said, looking at Harry with wide bright eyes.

“Me?”

“Yes you! You did the impossible, survived the impossible! It’s incredible that you’re still alive at all!”

At her words, something sour rose in the pit of his stomach and he scowled darkly.

“Did I say something wrong?” Granger asked nervously.

“Because being orphaned is so great, right Granger?” Teddy interceded, edging his body ever so slightly in between Hermione and Harry.

“Of-Of course not!” She stammered.

“Just drop it,” Harry said finally, giving them each a sharp look.

Luckily the uncomfortable silence that descended on them didn’t last too long. Other Slytherin and Gryffindor first years soon began arriving and before long, their class was under way.

“Now extend your wand hand and shout ‘Up!'” Rolanda Hooch instructed them.

Harry watched his classmates as they tried to make their broomsticks jump in their hands. Some, like Longbottom’s, didn’t respond at all; while others, like Teddy’s, did precisely what they were supposed to do.

Bracing himself with his crutch, Harry held out his left hand and thought very seriously about what he wanted to have happen. No sooner had the words left his mouth, but his broomstick immediately snapped to his hand and he sent a relieved smile at Teddy.

“That’s it!” Hooch called out to those of them who had managed it, before going around to the other students who still needed help.

Waiting for the rest of his classmates to catch up, Harry noticed that the Granger girl was one of the few still having difficulties. Hers had rolled away from her command, and now she was trying to make it actually move in the correct direction.

“You don’t believe it’ll work,” he observed, startling her from her task.

“It worked for most everyone else!” Granger retorted fiercely.

“You still have to believe it’ll work for you though,” he pointed out, falling silent as he thought about what to say. “Bend over and touch it, hold it in your hand for a bit. Then drop it back down and imagine that feeling before you try again.”

She looked at him as though he had grown a second head, but remarkably she did choose to follow his instructions, and when it came time for her to try again, the broomstick went up just as it was supposed to.

“How did you know to do that?” She hissed at him.

He didn’t have a chance to answer, because just then, Hooch turned back to the class as a whole and demonstrated the proper way to get onto the broomstick.

Beside him, Teddy snickered quietly as they watched her reprimand Malfoy on his improper technique.

“She just told him he’s been doing it wrong for years,” Teddy relayed since her back was to them.

“Git deserves it,” Harry answered in what he hoped was a low voice.

On the other hand, Harry couldn’t follow Hooch’s instructions either, but that was because of his leg, not because he wasn’t listening. Luckily it seemed that someone had spoken to her about his medical limitations—Harry hoped it had been Snape, with his brisk, no nonsense demeanor—because she didn’t press him about it after watching him do it incorrectly.

“Now on the count of three, I want you to kick off from the ground . . .” Hooch said, turning her back on Harry and effectively silencing her speech for him.

He turned his eyes on Teddy instead and by doing so, missed Longbottom’s early flight. Fearful of being left behind, the boy had kicked off too early and had risen sharply into the air. As the heads around Harry abruptly shot skywards, his did too, and he watched in silent horror as the other boy slipped from his broomstick and hurtled twenty feet to the ground.

His classmates winced in unison and Harry saw that Longbottom’s wrist was twisted the wrong direction.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

“Broken wrist,” Harry saw her mutter. “Come on, boy – it’s all right, up you get.”

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

Harry felt a strange tightness in his chest as he watched them walk off and for a brief flash he wondered what it would have been like to be in the round boy’s place with a professor’s arm around his shoulders. He shook his head free of the conflicting imagery and then noticed something lying on the ground in front of them.

“Gah, I can’t believe he’s in our house,” Weasley said, striding forwards into the middle of the group. “He ought to have been sorted into Hufflepuff, although Merlin knows what they would have done with him there!” Around him, the other Gryffindors chortled while the Slytherins just scowled back at them.

This is their so-called bravery and loyalty? Harry thought in disgust. Yeah, it’s real brave to talk about someone behind their back. His feeling about Longbottom increased tenfold, just as Weasley began talking again.

“Look!” Weasley said, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.” The little glass ball glittered in the sun as he held it up.

“Your family so hard up that you’ve taken to stealing from your housemates?” Harry shouted, tightening his hand around the wooden handle of his broomstick.

The other first years stilled around him, and Weasley’s face turned the colour of his hair as he flushed with anger. The crowd parted around them with the noticeable exception of Granger and Teddy.

“You want it back so much, Potter,” Weasley challenged, spitting his name out like it tasted bad. “Why don’t you come get it!” He threw himself onto his broom and took to the air.

With only a sidelong glance to Teddy, Harry hastily got on his own broom and with a flick of his wrist he retracted his crutch, rising in the air as he did. Not liking the idea of his leg falling off mid-flight, he immediately put his right leg under him and pinned it up with his left, and then he shot after Weasley. The wind sounded strange in his ears and the voices of the other students quickly dropped away as he chased after his red-haired quarry.

It was obvious that Weasley knew what he was doing on a broomstick, but Harry soon discovered that he knew how to fly too. Wrapping both hands around the front of the handle, he leaned into the flight and shot quickly towards Weasley.

“You wanna be caught? Fine!” He shouted as he neared the Gryffindor.

Weasley’s face tightened as he came right up on his tail, and suddenly he saw the other boy’s arm moving and he took off after the shining ball, not waiting to hear his taunting cry.

It struck him in that moment that this act of his, this crazy behaviour as good as shouted to the world that he had put Longbottom under his protection. And why shouldn’t he? The other boy was alone as he always had been. The fear that shone out of Longbottom’s eyes was easy to spot, and although Harry didn’t like it, he couldn’t help but see a piece of himself staring back at him within the other boy’s face.

Not liking where that thought was leading him, he pushed the entire thing out of his head and focused his entire attention on the glittering prize arcing down to the ground in front of him. He felt the wind rush past his ears as he flew in a sharp dive downwards. The lake was shining in front of him and he silently pushed the broomstick harder as it came closer in his vision.

Reaching out with his left hand, the knuckles on his right hand turning white from the grip he was holding on with, he snagged the little glass ball just bare inches from the water. Underneath the surface, something dark moved and without thinking, he flipped himself backwards and up into the air again, his heart pounding loudly in his chest as he went.

It wasn’t until he was nearly all the way back that he saw a dark smudge on the ground next to the rest of his classmates.

He angled downwards towards his head of house, the angry expression on Snape’s face evident even from the air. Shoving the glass ball into an inner pocket of his robes, he landed neatly on the ground and carefully stepped off of the broom. Flicking his wrist once for his crutch, he limped over to where the man was standing next to the frightened looking Weasley boy.

Snape was livid. Not trusting himself to speak, he crooked a finger in Harry’s direction and silently ordered him to follow in his wake. Harry obediently fell into step behind him and a moment later Weasley wisely did the same.

“For the rest of you,” he growled, looking out at the rest of the students still staring worriedly back up at him, “I suggest you put those brooms back on the ground and leave before someone else makes you. Do you understand?”

They hastily nodded their heads back at him and he scowled frighteningly back.

“Come!” He barked to his two detainees following behind him. Belatedly he remembered that Harry couldn’t hear him, but he decided it didn’t matter. The instruction hadn’t changed.

As he swept through the hallways, he took some delight in the way the other students scattered and jumped to get out of his way; some even brave enough to gaze pityingly back at the two boys following behind him.

He led them straight down to the dungeons and into his office, slamming the door behind the two idiots with a silent flick of his magic. Weasley jumped at the sudden loud noise, but Harry merely glanced at the door and then back up at Snape with a cool gaze.

“Sit!” He barked, taking care to face towards Harry this time.

Again, Weasley jumped and then scurried to a seat. Harry merely gazed back with a surly expression, before leisurely finding a seat.

Snape leaned backwards onto his desk and crossed his arms. It would do little good to hex either of the idiots in front of him, although Merlin knew he dearly wanted to.

“Can one of you explain why you think yourselves to be above the rules?” He said with a hiss, leaning down just enough to turn his stance into a looming pose.

Wisely, his question was met with silence.

“Explain to me, Mr. Weasley, precisely why you have decided to antagonize Mr. Potter this term.”

More silence.

“That was not a suggestion. Speak!”

Weasley shot a nasty look at Harry, then looked at him, and lowered the level of hatred in his gaze just slightly as he did.

“He’s a liar. Sir.”

Severus’ lip curled in distaste at the red haired boy’s answer.

“And what has he lied about?”

He noticed Harry looking at Weasley in closely guarded confusion, and his observations of the situation shifted slightly.

“He acted like he was a good person on the train!” Weasley yelled out, turning and pointing accusingly at Harry. “But he wasn’t! You were just playing, weren’t you! You’re just a nasty slimy git! You little bloody, fre—,” but Severus silenced him by grabbing the front of his robes and lifting him easily to his own eye level.

“Do. Not. Finish. That. Epithet. Mr. Weasley. You do not insult one of my snakes in front of me. Do you understand me?” He growled and a wide eyed Weasley nodded his head in silence. “Good,” he hissed, dropping the boy to the floor.

“You can’t grab me like that,” Weasley muttered up at him. “You can’t. I’ll tell McGonagall!”

“Would you like me to floo her for you? I can tell her how you threatened to break the neck of one of my snakes,” he growled, stepping away from the moron before really giving into the urge to harm him.

“I d-didn’t!” Weasley cried out.

Harry looked surprised and Severus gave him an almost unnoticeable nod. Yes my little snake. I did hear what he said to you. I protect my own and if this is the way I must prove it to you, then so be it!

“Now who is the liar!”

Weasley spluttered and he rounded in on him again.

“This is a magical castle, boy! Haven’t you ever considered the idea that the walls are listening! That the portraits in the dungeons are loyal to me? “

Weasley was slowly backing himself into the corner, his face white as Severus stalked ever nearer.

“I’m sure your parents would be delighted to learn that their precious son threatened Harry Potter with breaking his neck,” Severus added, smiling coldly as the boy in front of him continued to mutely shake his head.

“Death threats from a Gryffindor,” Severus tutted; his eyes glittering coldly down at the hapless boy in front of him. “You make me sick, Weasley.”

“Are you going to expel me sir?” Weasley’s hoarse whisper broke the silence surrounding them.

“Expel you?” Severus pretended to think it over. “Unfortunately I do not have that ability at present, but should you ever attempt such a foolhardy action,” his voice grew deathly silent. “Mark my words Mr. Weasley, expulsion shall be the least of your worries.”

He sent the boy away with a month full of detentions under Filch.

“Oh and Mr. Weasley,” he called out as the red haired boy hastily left his office. “Fifty points from Gryffindor for lying to a professor.” If anything, Weasley’s face merely got whiter and then the troublesome boy was gone.

Turning back to Harry, he took a seat in one of the chairs nearest him and said, “I do hope that you had a purpose in mind before performing your idiotic stunt today.”

Harry slowly nodded at him, his eyes contemplative as he gazed back in silence.

“Then I will see you in my classroom at seven tonight for your detention.” He said calmly, waiting to see if the boy would give him any kind of open response.

“Good,” Harry stated at last. “I have some new ideas about how to make this non-verbal thing work.”

Harry got up and was about to turn to leave when Severus spoke again.

“You flew better than your father ever did,” Severus admitted softly, his old feelings of hatred warring strongly within his chest with the protective urges he was beginning to feel towards Harry.

Another pause, and then, “Thank you for telling me sir.”

And then the boy was gone and Severus was alone in his office once more.

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