Better Be Slytherin!

professor.

Millicent stood in the doorway, looking furious, though Harry could only barely see her from his hiding place behind Snape. 'Harry!' she yelled. 'Do you want to tell me why that bastard Gaius just came out of here? I thought I told you--' She seemed to realize, all at once, that Professor Snape was also in the lavatory and stopped short. 'Oh,' she said, much more calmly, though her face was flushed, or perhaps it had already been. 'Hello, Professor.'

Snape inclined his head. 'Miss Bulstrode.'

'Is . . .' She scanned the room, and stared at where Harry was, though fortunately, she could not meet his eyes. Harry wasn't sure he could ever look her -- or anyone -- in the eye again. 'Is Harry okay?'

Instead of answer, or scream at her for yelling and cursing in front of him, Snape turned slightly, so he could gaze down at Harry, who turned his face up like he knew he should, but, again, kept his gaze cast down. Then, softly, Snape said, 'He is not . . . injured, at this time. Please return to your common room.'

Goosebumps had broken out all over Harry's chest and arms, and he hugged himself tightly, shoulders hunching up for better protection.

'But sir, I--'

'Now, Miss Bulstrode,' the professor said, in a tone that brooked no insolence.

But Millie opened her mouth to protest again, and so Harry leapt in to save her. 'I - I'm okay, Millie. Please, j- just go.'

He could feel her study him, even if he was mostly hidden, and he tried to project a sense of confidence, to let her know he was fine, but he had no idea how to do that anymore.

Slowly, she said, 'All right. But Harry, please, please come talk to me.'

He gave a short, jerky nod that he wasn't even sure she saw, and then she was gone, and he was alone with the professor again. Immediately, he darted for his tee-shirt and yanked it on in harsh, uncoordinated movements. His fingers fumbled, tucking it into his trousers, and he dared not look up even once, even though he knew the professor had turned his back, to give him some little privacy. He was extremely grateful.

'Thank you, sir,' he said, when he was back to rights. He sidled toward the door to the lav. 'I have . . . I've got an essay to finish. For Herbology.'

'Harry . . .' the man said again, and Harry was sure he had never heard his given name from an adult so many times in a week, never mind just in this past hour. 'You need to come with me to see the Headmaster.'

Harry shook his head. No. No way. He was not about to tell what happened, not now, not ever. He didn't even want to think about it. Besides, all that would come of it would be more hurt, for him. And for Hermione. He kept moving toward the door, slowly, knowing if he went too fast, Snape would catch him out.

'I'm sorry,' the professor said, and the words were too weird, on top of everything, that Harry stopped and glanced at him. That was a mistake, he realized, as he was caught by the man's expression . . . which really did look apologetic. But why??

'I'm sorry. You have no choice. This incident must be reported.'

'No. No, I can't!' He stumbled back a step or two, to get away.

'It's the only way he will be punished,' the professor said firmly, and Harry knew he meant Gaius, but at least, he was spared hearing the boy's name.

'Y-you can tell him. You saw!' He hated sounding accusing, since the professor was his rescuer, really, but he couldn't help the way the words sounded coming out of his mouth. He couldn't seem to control anything, right now.

'That would be sufficient to take points or give detention,' Snape admitted. He stepped closer, slowly and carefully, as if Harry wouldn't notice. 'But not to expel him. Not to file formal charges. For that, I need your corroboration.'

'I don't care!' Harry yelled. 'I'm not . . . I don't . . . No!'

For a long moment, Snape was quiet, and Harry almost thought he was going to give up and let Harry leave, let him go back to his dorm, back to the common room and back to the questioning looks from Millie -- and probably Teddy, too -- which he would gratefully ignore. But he did not. No, he kept on with that calm voice, and that calm, sorrowful expression, and he said, 'How do you expect to protect your Miss Granger from him now?'

The question hit Harry in the gut, so hard he lost his breath. Oh, God. He'd told on Gaius. He'd told the professor about the threat, about the blackmail, and now Gaius would hurt Hermione! Harry couldn't be around her all the time, even if they studied together and spent all their free time together. He couldn't protect her when they were in different classes, or at night after curfew, when he knew Gaius and some of his friends were often out and about. It was why he had given in to Gaius in the first place!

Harry shook his head. What had he been thinking? Oh, God, Hermione!

'Harry,' Snape said, and he was so close now; he'd sneaked up on him! Harry was shaking so hard that he felt like he might fall down, and so he was almost grateful when the professor's hand landed on his shoulder, to give him a little bit of stability. He almost leant into the professor's side, but he knew better than that, and held his ground. He could stand all on his own; he could! He didn't need anyone else.

'Harry, you see why you must inform the Headmaster. He will get rid of that little pederast, I swear to you.'

Snape's words were so soft, and so . . . forgiving, despite the fact that Harry had put Hermione in danger, and had probably broken other rules, too, that Harry's eyes unaccountably filled with tears. Blinking them away, he jerked a nod. He had to tell, now, or Hermione would be hurt. He only hoped Snape was right, and that Dumbledore would get rid of Gaius.

If he didn't, Harry wasn't sure what he would do.

Harry sat in the Headmaster's office, staring at his hands, neatly folded in his lap, with his wand tucked between them. His feet dangled a good foot or