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.

Harry was headed across the Slytherin common room when it happened. A large burly second year, by the name of Benjamin Aubrey caught his robes and proceeded to slam him forcefully into the wall.

“James Potter was responsible for making my da’s life miserable while he was in school. He wanted me to pass along a message,” the other boy said, throwing a punch into his gut.

Hary took the punch in silence, barely catching himself on his crutch as his gut sung out painfully.

“I gave you that one,” Harry called out as the boy turned to leave. “You try that again, and you’ll be wearing your balls for earrings, understand?” The whole room was watching as Aubrey stopped mid-step and turned back, one fist up and the other already around his wand.

“My da said that James Potter always talked big too,” Aubrey shot back angrily.

“It’s not just talk,” Harry clarified, stepping closer, all of his weight on his legs and his crutch just barely off the ground.

“Look at the cripple try and act big!” Aubrey shouted out to the room, waving his wand at the minuscule first year still staring stonily back at him.

That’s when Harry struck back. Propelling himself forwards, he whipped his crutch forwards between the other boy’s legs and then jabbed his left knee into its underside. He threw the arm still attached to his crutch downwards, causing the other end to strike upwards into the other boy’s groin like a rising teeter totter.

All of this took only seconds, and at the end of the altercation, Harry was left standing over the crying figure of one Benjamin Aubrey.

“Taken down by the cripple!” Harry yelled back at the stunned room. “Taken down by the freak!” He said, pounding the centre of his chest with his good hand and glaring back at those who had him surrounded.

With that, he pushed through the crowd, and stalked off to the room he shared with Teddy, leaving a stunned silence behind him.

. . .

When Teddy got back from his unpleasant visit to the infirmary with Professor Snape, the first thing he noticed was the silence that pervaded the normally talkative common room. Spying Blaise Zabini at the top of the stairs leading to the boy’s dorms, he quickly made his way over and started asking questions.

“Potter got attacked by this Aubrey kid,” Zabini answered with a shrug.

For a moment, Teddy didn’t know how to react. It was obvious that Harry could handle himself in a fight, but Benjamin Aubrey, despite only being a second year, was a lot bigger than them.

“Is he okay?”

“Which one?” Zabini countered nonchalantly, his sharp eyes watching Teddy’s face for any sort of telling reaction.

“Harry.”

“He’s okay,” Zabini answered with a sudden grin. “Aubrey, on the other hand . . . well, he’s going to have fun walking for the next day or so.” The dark skinned boy jerked his knee upwards and Teddy suddenly understood what had happened.

“Ouch,” he winced.

“Yeah. Anyway, Potter’s in your room, doing chin-ups on the doorway.”

“Pardon me?”

“Been at it for twenty minutes or so,” Zabini shrugged.

“And why are you out here anyway?” It was Teddy’s turn to stare back suspiciously.

Zabini rolled his eyes and nodded towards the room he was sharing with Malfoy. “Boy genius in there’s taking his third shower of the day. Did you know he sings when he bathes?”

Teddy sniggered, shaking his head in the negative.

“Yeah well, god forbid I make a comment on his bloody musicality. Or lack thereof,” Zabini shouted at him as he finally started down the hallway.

Teddy could see Harry just as Zabini had described him as he got closer their room. Their door was open and Harry moving figure was highlighted in the light spilling out from their room into the dimmer hallway.

The other boy was drenched with sweat, and although his eyes were closed as he continued exercising, Teddy swore he had seen Harry flinch as he got closer to him.

His suspicion was confirmed when his roommate opened his eyes and dropped lightly down to the floor in front of him.

“Snape get you all checked out?” Was Harry’s smooth answer.

“Anemia, and some other stuff,” Teddy shrugged, hearing the door shut behind them as he went into the bathroom to wash his hands free of the smell of the Infirmary.

When he came out, Harry was sitting on the floor, patiently removing his leg. The first time Teddy had him do it, he had simply stared. The leg was a muggle creation that had been augmented magically to conform to Harry better than a mere prosthesis. Harry had explained it to him those first few nights, and Teddy now knew that most muggle prostheses required straps to hold them in place. However, Harry’s leg fit him like a glove; tightening and loosening at just a word from his dark haired friend.

He still couldn’t quite get his brain around the difference the leg made in Harry’s overall appearance though.

Harry stood back up, flicking out both of his forearm crutches and then moving towards Teddy, his right leg on the ground where he had left it. When Harry had first taken off his leg and seen Teddy staring, he had done the unthinkable and asked him if he wanted to touch it. He had, sort of, but there was no way in hell he was about to admit such a thing!

The second forearm crutch was also a surprise. Apparently there was a disillusionment spell on it that had disengaged as soon as Harry had revealed it to him. It was blue like the other one, and Teddy realised that he was likely one of the only ones who had seen it. At that thought, a strange warmth had spread across the centre of his chest, leaving him with a strange desire to keep Harry safe, keep him as whole as he was.

Maybe more, a small voice had said in his gut; leaving him wondering whether Harry had exhausted all of the possible options the wizarding medical community had left to offer him.

“Hey, keep an eye on my leg while I grab a shower, ‘kay?” Harry laughed as he used his remaining leg and crutches to limp to the bathroom.

The other boy had smiled at him, but there had been a serious light in his eyes-or eye rather. Now that Teddy knew one of them was fake, he always looked at Harry’s left, trying to discern what, if any differences there were between it and the fake one.

While Harry was in the bathroom, a knock came at the door, and Teddy mentally added another thing to his list of workarounds they needed to come up with for Harry.

As long as Teddy was in the room with him, it was okay that Harry couldn’t hear it when there was someone at the door, but the same couldn’t be said for when he was gone. They needed to come up with some way, a magical doorbell that rang only in their heads perhaps, to get around that particular obstacle.

Teddy cautiously opened the door, his years spent living with his father too well ingrained to ignore them now.

Maybe we just need a way to see through the door. That would solve a lot of problems and make him feel safer in the process.

“Mr. Nott,” the growling figure of Professor Snape stood there behind the door and Teddy silently swallowed at the sight.

“Sir,” he greeted in a soft voice, his mind already on the two fights Harry had been involved in just that day.

“Is Mr. Potter available?”

“He’s in the shower, sir,” Teddy answered quietly. Quite suddenly, he mourned the fact that there were no back doors out of their room. He wondered if they could fix that somehow.

“I see,” Snape answered, staring down at him as though Teddy were telegraphing his escape route thoughts to the entire dormitory.

Maybe he was. That was another thing he needed to talk to Harry about.

“Inform Mr. Potter when he is done that I am waiting just in the common room for him.”

“Yes sir,” Teddy answered smartly as Snape turned to leave.

“Oh and Mr. Nott?” Snape stopped and looked back at him.

“Yes sir?” He asked, swallowing nervously.

“Do tell Mr. Potter not to dawdle. If he so much as tries to get by me without speaking to me, I will have you both in detention until the New Year. Do I make myself clear?”

Teddy nodded his head up and down; too flustered to make his mouth work correctly.

“Very good. Carry on.”

. . .

A nervous Teddy was waiting for him when Harry exited the bathroom, clean but wearing only a pair of trousers. The other boy stared at his right shoulder, at the mass of scar tissue left over from the “accident.”

“Something up?” Harry asked, swinging himself forwards into the room and easing back onto the ground to put his leg back on.

Teddy came around and crouched in front of him to answer, “Snape’s waiting for you in the common room.”

“Always something, isn’t it?” He responded, giving the Teddy a grin that he didn’t feel.

With his leg back on and the trouser leg covering it, he collapsed his left forearm crutch back down into a hidden ring of steel around his wrist and then finished getting dressed.

Catching his arm as he was preparing to leave the room, Teddy added, “He said to tell you that if you tried to sneak past him, we’d be in detention until the New Year.”

“I won’t, but it’s not because I’m afraid of him, Teddy,” he answered, pulling his arm free with a gentle shake. “I’m not afraid of anyone,” he continued stiffly. “But I don’t much fancy gettin’ you in trouble for something I did. He shouldn’t be threatening you like that.” He added as he left the room for real. He didn’t turn around to see how the other boy had received his proclamation, but he was sure they would talk about it eventually.

He had endured a great many things in his short life, and most of them had been unpleasant. So when he said he wasn’t afraid of anything, it was more like, “There’s nothing left for me to fear.”

Professor Snape was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, his expression nothing like it had been that first night when he had pleaded not to have to return to the infirmary.

That was another thought altogether. He wasn’t exactly afraid of the Infirmary; it was more of an intense dislike.

“Come along, Mr. Potter. We have much to discuss.”

I bet we do.

. . .

Severus didn’t speak as they walked out of the common room. He didn’t say anything as they bypassed his office and headed for his classroom. He knew that the boy likely wouldn’t know he was being talked to, and he didn’t want to make it obvious to any passers-by that hearing was a problem for the “great Harry Potter.”

After shepherding Harry inside, he closed the door and warded it against unwelcome visitors (i.e. anyone else). He then headed for his desk and noted with some relief that the boy was following closely after.

He took a seat atop the desk and turned back to look at his now surly first year.

“Prefect Marsh informed me that you were responsible for putting one of your housemates in the Infirmary,” Severus began, staring down his nose the boy in front of him.

“That’s two fights in one day,” he said, pausing to see if Potter would try and use the in as an opportunity to explain himself.

But the boy didn’t respond and he found himself pushing on after a brief moment of silence. “Housemates are family, Mr. Potter. We do not harm our family members.”

Potter’s lip curled up and inwardly Severus gave a sigh of relief. Here was proof that the boy wasn’t entirely impenetrable.

“We don’t harm our family members?” Potter responded slowly, as though he were seriously pondering the implications of such a thing. “I suppose I’m not really family then,” he said, leaning his head back to look Severus straight in the eye.

He resisted the urge to pry into the boy’s mind; instead responding with, “Why do you think that?”

He knew that Aubrey had begun the fight—he had gotten as much out of his Prefect—but he wanted to hear Harry tell him about it, and anything else that he might admit as well.

“Because it’s okay for other . . . people to hurt me, but clearly not the other way around. Sir.” Potter answered stiffly.

Severus was more intrigued by what the boy didn’t say.

“I have already had a conversation with Mr. Aubrey,” Severus said, looking carefully back for a reaction that didn’t happen. “Blaming you for the sins of your father, I believe?” He didn’t like to think that he would have been responsible of the same if not for Potter being sorted into his house.

“Something like that, sir,” the boy’s lip curled again and Severus was struck by how different his gaze was from his mother’s.

“I would have hoped that had you been in need of medical attention, you would have sought it,” he prompted.

“For that, sir?” Potter bared his teeth in a good imitation of a feral cat. “That kid relies too much on his size than his strength. I’ve seen better punches thrown from dying five year olds.”

Potter’s words were clearly meant to shock Severus, and although he did feel a certain measure of discomfort, he was not willing to reveal such feelings to anyone, especially not to the boy in front of him.

“And do you spend a great deal of time with ‘dying five year-olds’?”

“No, sir.” Potter gave him that smile again, and Severus was suddenly glad for his years of experience against the sight of such cold indifference.

“Back to the subject at hand, Mr. Aubrey will be punished for attacking you. And if your actions had been purely in self-defense, I likely would not have punished you as well, but from the plethora of witnesses around you,” here Severus sneered disdainfully. “It seems that your response was anything but self-defense.”

“Is that all, sir?” The distant, unresponsive Potter had returned and Severus wanted to throttle whoever was at fault for creating such a persona in Lily’s son.

“No it is not. Take a seat, Mr. Potter.” It was not a suggestion.

Potter took a seat on the hard student bench just behind him, his eyes never leaving Severus’ face.

“Your actions today concern me. This bold tendency of yours to lash out at whomever has raised your ire is not a healthy way to exist; nor is it a Slytherin way. In fact, physical attacks, while they do have their place, are not an acceptable method to settling a dispute here at Hogwarts.”

“Why do you care? What do you get out of it?” Potter scowled back at him.

“You are one of mine,” Severus hissed back with a piercing look.

“Oh right,” Potter grimaced, standing up and crossing his arms defensively in front of his thin body. “Well, I promise not to embarrass you in front of the other houses then,” he spat back, jabbing his right index finger into the air towards him.

Severus stared at the hand that was directed at him, his mind briefly taken away at the sight of the boy’s missing fingers. Without thinking, he stepped forwards and grabbed Potter’s hand.

Growling, he retorted, “If this had happened while under my care, I would have found retribution for you.”

“Don’t touch me!” Potter jerked his hand in an effort to get free, but Snape was having none of it and merely stepped closer.

“I protect my own!”

“Bullshit!” The boy shouted back, his scars standing in stark relief from the pink of cheeks. “I don’t need you to be indebted to!”

“You think that is what this is about?” Severus retorted incredulously. “To use your weaknesses as a way to control you? Well, let me enlighten you, Harry, I do not blackmail my students!”

“Bullshit! I seen you watching me, seen you watching everyone! I seen people just like you, watching, tallying, keeping track of what they can use against so-called weaker folks! Well guess what, I ain’t weaker and you can’t beat me down! I ain’t afraid o’ you!”

With a jerk, the boy drove his crutch into Severus’ knee, causing him to lurch forwards, releasing Harry’s hand as he fell. In a flash, Harry jumped over the student bench and made quickly for the now open door. He didn’t see Severus pull his wand, but he did see the door slam shut in front of him.

“Open it!” Harry yelled, beating his crutch against the heavy oak of the locked door. “Open it, you bloody bastard!” He yelled, turning around in time to see Severus stalking towards him. Harry’s eyes were wild, darting throughout the classroom for alternate exits.

“Harry, look at me,” Severus answered, keeping his open hands out in front of his body in a non-threatening manner. “I understand that this may be difficult to understand, but I am not going to hurt you.”

“I ain’t a fool!” Harry screamed hysterically back, edging away from him. “I ain’t weak!”

“I never said you were,” Severus answered calmly, keeping eye contact as he followed the irate boy into the corner of his classroom.

“Stop staring at me like I am!” Harry’s breath hitched, though his demeanour did not change. “I ain’t a freak!”

He said in a slightly softer voice, leaning backwards into the stone walls of the corner he now found himself in. “I’m not!” He said, his breath hitching more noticeably as he slid to the floor in a ball.

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