Third Place - Romance

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Severus Snape arrived in the great hall in a foul temper. What made it worse was that he knew that this state of mind was one he (and everyone else) now considered normal, and that there was no prospect of his mood improving in the near future.

A whole day of teaching annoying, squabbling, ignorant children with no desire to learn and no appreciation whatsoever of the subject of Potions had led to the headache now firmly lodged within his skull.

The staff members seated to either side of him made no attempt at conversation with him, certain of being rebuffed then torn into by his biting wit. He sat in self-imposed silence, and wallowed in self pity, mocking himself for it simultaneously. Though perhaps the zone of quiet surrounding him was better than the inane babble or spreading of gossip which seemed to be the only things that the other Professors would talk about. No chance of finding intelligent conversation here with Trelawney on one side and the latest ineffectual Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor on the other.

The noise of children squalling as they waited for their food penetrated his head forcefully, interrupting his musings. As he looked down upon them he amused himself by superimposing a mental image of a nest of chicks, beaks gaping as they cheeped for their mother to feed them in shrill voices. Which led to an image of Dumbledore regurgitating food for them. He'd get it all over his beard. Inwardly Severus chuckled, though his face remained outwardly impassive, with perhaps a faint sneer of disgust.

And they thought he had no sense of humour! Certainly they wouldn't appreciate it, though perhaps Albus would. Sharing a sense of humour with the headmaster was a frightening thought, perhaps that why he kept it well hidden.

Finally Albus began calling the school to order. In his own special way of course. Diplomatically. Severus wondered why he couldn't have told the lot of them to just shut up. Of course, that's probably why all of the students liked Dumbledore but feared their Potions Master.

Though Snape did not usually pay any attention to the announcements, the first one today caught his ear. He listened with a malign sense of glee as he heard that Neville was being transferred to another school which they believed was more suited to him. The Gryffindor table was composed entirely of sad and grim faces, with his acute hearing he even picked up a few rumours that it was his treatment of the boy that caused him to leave.

Snape's headache disappeared. He felt a sudden urge to grin maliciously, but suppressed it out of consideration for everyone else in the hall, they might die of shock from realising that the greasy old potions master could stretch his mouth into a smile. Though Severus wasn't entirely sure whether that wasn't an inducement to do so. He decided to save Pomfrey from an influx of heart attack cases, and mused on the many benefits that the absence of the boy otherwise known as the Walking Disaster Area would bring. Fewer melted cauldrons. Fewer craters in the floor. Fewer stained robes. Fewer people in the hospital wing. Also fewer talks from the headmaster on patience and the best way to handle his own students.

Snape had been tuning out Dumbledore's droning for some time, but since the headmaster had been talking for much longer than normal, started paying attention. Having missing the majority of the speech, he was therefore very surprised to hear that the topic of it was the closing of the school for the holidays! He immediately suspected that it was a plot, that everyone else knew and they were trying to provoke a surprised reaction from him. He ensured his face remained unreadable, just in case there had been a conspiracy of that kind, although as logic reared its head it did seem unlikely and he knew that it was just paranoia. Being paranoid had kept him alive.

He desperately needed to talk to Albus about this. Concerned over whether the school would be closed just to the students or to all the staff as well, he stared down at the table, strands of his long hair falling to cover his face. The idea of all the students leaving was highly agreeable to him. Severus thrived in the quiet. But the other possibility was one which inspired dread in his heart. Surely the headmaster would not even consider throwing him out- where would he go? The only reason Severus had agreed to stay on as a teacher after Voldemort uncovered his treachery was that it was the only safe place for him; he could not leave Hogwarts without putting his life in danger.

So he stayed here, surrounded by people who know nothing but the facade he wore, and hated him for it, and he simmered in the bitterness that was knowing that the only thing that had made his life worthwhile, that perhaps in the final tally would have redeemed him, his spying, was now a duty he could no longer perform. He was useless, and hated it.

A few moments after Dumbledore had risen from the head table and was making his way out of the hall, Snape stood and exited through a side door. Making his way round to the main passageway, he heard Dumbledore's voice and someone else's ahead and, his Slytherin instincts kicking in, stealthily moved as near as he could without alerting them to his presence. He crouched behind a statue of a famous one legged wizard and slowed his breathing, focusing entirely on the sounds coming from just around the corner.

"My dear boy, there is really nothing that I can do. The school must be closed for the re-application of the wards. It would be inconvenient for the Aurors to have to deal with students whilst working," said Dumbledore, sounding as though he had already repeated this several times.

"Couldn't you make an exception, just for me? One student would not bother them too much, and I promise to stay out of the way. Please Professor."

Potter's voice, Snape was certain. The bane of his existence. Wanting another exception to the rules 'just for him.' Clenching his left hand into a fist Severus thought bitterly on how the spoiled little swine got everything he ever wanted, Dumbledore always bending over backwards to cater to the boy and get him out of trouble. No one had ever done that for Severus- he had to sort out his problems on his own; he hadn't had the charmed life that the Golden Boy did.

"Why do you want to stay so much anyway, Harry? I should have thought that making mischief would be easier away from your Professors." Dumbledore said, ostensibly seriously.

Snape could just tell the headmaster was smiling. And that his eyes were twinkling.

"Yes, I mean no, I mean........." Potter stuttered. "I just wanted to study professor. I fell behind a lot last year with the Tournament, and I'm having some difficulty this year as I haven't fully caught up. So I thought if I had access to the library......" Potter's voice trailed off.

Snape thought that the idea of Potter actually studying was enough to make him faint.

"Be that as it may, while the wards are weakened Hogwarts will not be as safe for you as it normally is, Harry." Dumbledore explained with infinite patience.

Severus felt a smirk spreading over his face at the idea that the precious boy who lived was being denied something.

"Well then Professor, do you think that I could....."

There was a desperation present in Potter's tone which Snape found interesting.

"Harry, I'm sorry, but you will not be safe anywhere else, even at the Weasleys! Your relatives' house is powerfully protected to safeguard you against Voldemort," interrupted Dumbledore, softly adding "Also, I think that the Weasley family has not been together for Christmas for many years now, and it might be nice for Ron to have time alone with them without being overshadowed by you. Hmmm?"

Snape was astonished at what came next. Silence, from Potter! The boy was probably gaping open mouthed at being spoken to in such a way. It was a great improvement over his insolence, Potter was just as bad as his father, and milked his fame for everything he could get.

Then softly, timidly "I never thought of that," The boy sounded so bewildered that Snape almost felt for him.

But then the cynical little voice inside his head told him that Potter would never think about anyone other than himself; he wouldn't notice if his best friend lost a leg, let alone worry about damaging anyone's feelings. Typical.

"Run along now Harry," said the headmaster in a much kinder tone "Everything will turn out all right. You will see Ron as soon as you come back after the holidays, and you can keep in touch by owl till then."

How nice, Severus thought, they can be penpals, exhausting their owls by making them fly back and forth at all hours carrying their nonsensical words and whims. Can't see why Potter should care so much about losing contact for a few weeks, he could hardly get away from the redhead the rest of the time.

Potter walked right past the entrance to the corridor where Snape was standing, looking utterly dejected, his shoulders slumped and his head lowered in defeat. Just before he passed out of Snape's field of view however, he straightened himself out and continued walking with a definitively cheerful air about him.

Snape came to the realisation that the little brat was faking it all along and must have been looking downhearted only to make Dumbledore feel guilty. How typical of the boy. How......Slytherin. Angry at himself for paying a backhanded compliment to Potter, Snape strode out after the headmaster.

"Severus," he was greeted politely. Did nothing surprise the old man. Snape had a feeling that the headmaster had known that he was standing there all along.

"Would you like to come up to my office?" Dumbledore escorted him in that direction without waiting for an answer, earning an amused snort from the Potion's Master.

"Marshmallows."

Severus rolled his eyes at the password. He wondered if the man had a list of Muggle sweets and when he reached the end of it started repeating them.

"Have a seat, would you like a lemon drop?" questioned Albus, his eyes still twinkling.

Severus tried an icy glare, when this appeared to have no effect, which did not surprise him, he politely deferred.

"Now Severus, I know what it is you wish to speak with me about." said Dumbledore before Snape had a chance to start.

Severus merely sighed and nodded, surrendering to the inevitable fact that Albus always ended up being in charge of their conversations.

"All of the other Professors are leaving the school for the holidays, most are going to stay with relatives, and a few abroad." seeing that Snape was about to interrupt the headmaster held up a hand to forestall him. "However, provisions have been made for you to stay here. You'll undoubtedly spend most of your time in your dungeons anyway, when they do the wards down there you might have to assist them." Having said his piece, Dumbledore popped a sweet into his mouth and leaned back contentedly.

Relief poured though Severus as he realised that he wasn't going to be forced to leave, though he had never imagined he would be so glad to stay in his prison. Albus must have been making him nervous with the unexpected news for his own sadistic amusement.

"Are you staying here, Albus?" Snape asked, relaxed again and disposed to be civil.

"Yes, I shall always stay here at Hogwarts; besides, they could not do the warding without me"

Snape left the smiling Dumbledore to his sweets.

It had not, overall, been a bad day for Severus, Longbottom thrown out, no children over the holidays, and Potter disappointed and ignored. He was almost happy.

There was only one more potions lesson with the Gryffindor fifth years in it before the holidays, and Snape prepared himself mentally before it started. Something akin to a warrior's battle cry ran through his head.

They poured in, Potter at the back of the horde, looking as though he had run the entire length of the castle to get there. The Professor wondered if he could take points for the boy being out of breath. His appearance was dishevelled as always, his messy black hair falling forward into his eyes. He sat down haphazardly and scattered his things across the desk in an attempt to find what he was looking for.

Snape started the lesson. "Today you will be doing the practical described on page sixty-four of your texts, which you should all have read in detail. Though I doubt any of you have the mental capacity to make or understand this complex potion, it has a wide variety of important applications. Which I expect an essay on due in the first lesson after the holidays."

A moment to savour the anticipation of the looks on their faces, then "Six feet long, precisely." The expressions of all the students in the class were priceless, though of course Granger's frown was likely due to recalling everything she had ever learned and planning the essay accordingly.

Snape watched Potter keenly throughout the lesson looking for any mistakes or foolishness. He was taken aback by the boy's methodical and careful approach to the potion, the look of intense concentration on his face was not one which the Professor recalled seeing there often. Maybe the boy was serious about improving his studies, he mused.

Potter was very quiet and Severus grew suspicious. Stopping beside him to check his potion, Snape was astonished- the boy had almost finished and had done it right. Miss Know It All must have told him what to do. He pulled some ground salamander scales from his pocket as the boy turned to his partner, Weasley, and cast them into the cauldron, that would stink up the whole room, he could take dozens of points.

His spiteful thoughts were interrupted as Potter turned around and saw the vile orange colour his mixture was turning. Instead of panicking as Snape had hoped he would, the boy grabbed a test tube of snapdragon pollen and stirred some in, turning the potion back to its proper deep purple colour.

Snape scowled "Ten points from Gryffindor for adding ingredients not on the list, and another ten for cheating Potter." He moved on then paused and added as an afterthought "Five points from Granger for helping him." Another pause then "Five points from Weasley for not helping him." He sat back in his chair looking smug while Potter glared daggers at him with emerald green eyes.

Idly musing on how the boy had known to add that ingredient to neutralise the reaction, Snape made it through the rest of the lesson without maiming any of the students. He felt that Dumbledore would have been proud

When he was sure the last student was gone from the school for the holidays, Severus fetched himself a glass of wine, toasted his empty rooms, and curled up with a book in front of his fireplace.

Harry supposed that he should have been relieved that his uncle picked him up from the station at all, certainly Vernon kept on telling him how grateful he ought to be the whole drive back to the Dursleys.

After a few minutes of this, when his uncle started repeating himself, Harry ignored the diatribe and wished fiercely that he could have remained at Hogwarts.

He had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen over the holidays, if the summer before was any indication to go by. The Dursleys had not been happy about the trick with Dudley's tongue, and had felt free to take it out on Harry since his Godfather had not yet materialised to defend him. Chores had filled his every waking moment and Dudley had pinched and tripped him at every opportunity.

Now his treatment was bound to be much worse as his relatives had not been expecting to deal with him over Christmas, and were certainly not pleased with the burden.

Upon arriving at the house, Harry hauled his trunk out of the car and dragged it upstairs to the landing. When he got back outside there was no sign of Hedwig and her cage lay open and twisted on the ground.

"What have you done with her?" cried out Harry angrily. He was used to the Dursleys' treatment of him but to hurt his owl was showing utter cruelty. She had been the first real birthday present he had ever received. His first real friend- he could always talk to her about anything.

"Nothing that the stupid magic pigeon didn't deserve." said Dudley, who if possible was looking even fatter than he had before. Obviously the diet wasn't working. Or more likely, knowing Aunt Petunia, he wasn't sticking to it. He seemed very happy at Harry's present distress. "Got rid of it for good."

"What have you done to her?" Harry whispered softly, despairingly. Immediately he imagined her broken body lying under the car, thrown callously in the bin, fed to the neighbours' dog.

"Your stupid pet was so scared, it's never coming back." Dudley, though trying to be mean, gave Harry hope.

Hedwig's not dead, he thought, she's not dead. He was glad that she had escaped. He knew that she could take care of herself, and would be far better off by herself than staying here. Maybe she would go to the owlery at Hogwarts, and he would see her there.

The chores he had been assigned, basically doing every job in the house, were the same as they had been that summer, but they somehow seemed much harder to do. He hadn't been here for Christmas for four years, and doing all the work for the celebrations without any hope of taking part in them lowered his spirits. All the outdoor tasks, putting up the tree and lights and doing the garden, took place in the bitter cold and frequently in the rain, so he soon developed a serious cold.

Being fed nothing but what he could scrounge from the plates after meals, which wasn't much considering how the pigs ate, was definitely not helping his health either, and he soon found it hard to summon up the energy to do even the easiest of his chores. But he knew that he had to get through this. He counted down the days until he was going back to Hogwarts.

Dudley was being particularly vicious to him, and whenever his friends were due over Harry made sure to stay well out of the way. On the twenty-first of December, Piers came round for the day for a pre-Christmas party. Harry, of course, still had chores. What Uncle Vernon would do if they weren't completed far outweighed being tormented by the boys, so he started polishing the banister on the landing.

His only warning was a whisper and a giggle from behind, and then Harry went flying headfirst down the stairs. His head cracked painfully against the wall at the bottom, and as the world spun around him and his vision swam, he picked himself up, knowing it was better to hide weakness, and groped for his glasses. When he found them and tried to put them on he found the frames bent and the glass shattered. Dudley and Piers found this highly amusing and stood there laughing at him as he felt utterly hopeless. He would be unable to complete his chores if he was unable to see, not to mention that dodging Dudley would a lot harder.

He went outside into the icy cold rain where he knew they would not follow, even for the pleasure of tormenting him, and stayed out there, bruised, shivering and sneezing with his head pounding until Piers had left. Checking that Dudley was firmly ensconced in front of the TV, Harry sneaked in through the kitchen door, made his way up the stairs leaving a trail of drips and puddles behind him, and retrieved his wand from under the floorboard where it resided. He was just thankful that he hadn't left it in his trunk, for that had been locked up in the attic, and was entirely inaccessible. He had no choice but to use magic.

Pointing his wand at the glasses, Harry muttered a fixing charm, and sighed in relief as they straightened and the lenses reformed. He slid them on his face, almost allowing himself to relax.

Then he heard the loud flap of the letterbox downstairs. The postman had been already that morning. Which meant........

Harry ran down the stairs and grabbed the letter. On the back was a seal from the Ministry of Magic. His hands trembled as he opened it.

Dear Mister Potter,

Unauthorised use of magic was detected at your address at 5:35pm. Please cease all casting immediately or you will be expelled from Hogwarts and subject to an official Ministry inquiry. Please address inquiries to The Ministry of Magic, Public Help Section.

Thank You.

The trembling spread to the rest of his body. He could not use any more magic at all. Not if he wanted to go back to school, and he had to get back to Hogwarts, the life he had here wasn't worth living.

Suddenly the letter was snatched from his open hands by chubby grasping hands. Dudley. While Harry would have been stunned to learn that the pig could read, his self preservation instincts kicked in and he tried to grab it back from his cousin.

"Mum, Dad, come quick!" yelled Dudley.

Time seemed to slow to Harry as he felt his doom approaching. He began to feel numb.

Petunia walked into the hallway, and stopped. Eyeing the puddles of water covering her perfect floor she exclaimed in horror.

"Harry! Harry you did this, didn't you? Clean it up at once you clumsy boy." said in her usual shrill, piercing voice.

Harry, whose throat had been tickling and his nose running from the change in temperature, sneezed. Loudly. Twice.

"Ugh, disgusting boy, spreading your germs around. How dare you try and give my Duddykins some horrible disease." she spat then called "Vernon."

Harry had been frozen in place, but as his uncle approached he began to slowly back away.

"Look Vernon, look what the boy has done to the house. And he was trying to infect poor little Dudley."

'Poor little Dudley' smirked at Harry then shouted "Never mind that Mum, look Dad, Harry got a letter, it said that he was doing magic."

Harry suddenly realised that he was still holding his wand. This did not look good. His uncle swiftly skimmed the letter, and then looked up scowling. Harry could not recall having ever seen him quite so pissed off. His whole face went bright purple. Then he exploded

"I've put up with your abnormality in this house long enough!" he practically screamed.

"But, Uncle Vernon, I was just trying to..." Harry stammered, quaking as the bulk of his uncle loomed above him.

"Enough." Vernon roared. His fist made contact with Harry's head.

Harry felt the shock vibrate through him so hard that he heard his brains sloshing in his skull as he was thrown backwards and landed awkwardly on the floor.

"How dare you use magic in this house." Punctuated with a kick in the stomach, before Harry had time to roll himself into a ball. "You freak, you abomination, you useless waste of space." The rant went on and on, and Harry had accumulated many bruises by the end of it. He pleaded with his uncle to stop, but this just seemed to egg him on. He wasn't entirely sure that he would be able to walk ever again. His glasses had once again been broken, though he was not in a state to appreciate the irony of the fact.

He nearly lost consciousness, but was still aware as he was dragged to the cupboard under the stairs and tossed in.

"And there you will stay, bloody nuisance boy." were the last words he heard before succumbing to the darkness.

For the next couple of days Harry lay in his cupboard, sore and aching, and trying to think of anything but where he actually was. His wand had been snapped by his uncle. He could not save himself with magic even if it wouldn't have got him expelled. Though he wasn't entirely sure they would let him back into Hogwarts without a wand anyway. He would have to say he lost it. Or sat on it. Or it was eaten by an alligator. Or something.

He was given no food at all and only let out of the dark cupboard to go to the toilet under his uncle's supervision twice a day, where he drank some water from the tap to try and ease his sore throat. He had the beginnings of a fever, and was finding it harder to focus. Though in the cupboard in his battered state, it was better to let his mind wander anyway.

Harry imagined whole scenarios of an alternate Christmas with his friends. He had long conversations aloud with Ron about Quidditch and argued with Hermione about his studies. These talks were interrupted by loud banging on his cupboard door or Dudley jumping on the stairs to tell him to shut up.

His latest delusion was not a pleasant one. The whole of Slytherin was standing outside his cupboard, they could see through the door, and they were pointing and laughing mercilessly. Right at the front was Malfoy, who shouted various derogatory things about his parents, and how pathetic and useless he was. They were all shouting it now.

Then the door disappeared entirely and he was encircled by the jeering crowd. Snape stepped up to where he was sprawled.

"I knew that you would never amount to anything Potter. You are absolutely worthless, what could you possibly do to save the world from Voldemort when your own family is an enemy you cannot defeat. I pity those relying on you, I really do." The Potions Master sneered.

Then there was Cedric. Harry did not look up to see him, but he could hear his voice. "I relied on you Harry. I trusted you. Who is going to want to take orders from you when doing so gets them killed. No one will ever trust you again." he accused.

Harry whimpered and clasped his arms over his head to try and block the words out. They were right about him though. What did he have to offer? But everyone was depending on him. Even if he did not fight the battle himself, the fact that he yet lived gave people hope. They could never know of his weaknesses or his life would be meaningless. He would have to carry on trying to live up to everyone else's expectations, to try and stop them all being so disappointed in him. Harry fell asleep crying.

Harry awoke gasping and trying to suppress his screams as the aftershocks of experiencing Crucio in his nightmares ran through him. The loud crash which had stirred him was followed by the thumping of feet upstairs and then raised voices.

Finally steps down the stairs, he could tell it was his uncle from the weight, though Dudley was fast catching up. The door to his cupboard was wrenched open. He was grabbed roughly by the back of his collar and towed along behind Vernon, earning the boy even more bruises as he bumped up the stairs, to Dudley's bedroom.

Though Harry was having trouble seeing, through the blur he made out that the window had been smashed and there was a strange object on the floor. The Dursleys were huddled by the door, and his uncle shoved Harry forward.

"Go on then, pick it up." he growled. "This came with your ruddy owl, she finally got hers."

As Harry neared it, the blob separated out into a parcel with the still form of Hedwig lying on it. Her neck was twisted right round. Harry cried out in loss, and a tear trickled down his check. He reached out and ran a finger over the soft feathers. He felt guilt flow through him. She had come back for him. She had died because of him, because of his relatives' hatred for him. He was no longer surprised that they could do this to an innocent animal. This was all his fault.

"What's the parcel, damn idiot boy?" prompted his uncle.

Knowing that retaliation was useless, Harry laid Hedwig aside gently and squinted at the tag.

To Harry

Hope your doing alright mate, haven't had any mail from you but Hedwig came to collect your present as usual. Think there's one of Mum's jumpers included.

PS. Don't open it till the morning.
From Ron

It must be Christmas Eve, realised Harry, he had lost track of the days while in his cupboard, not really caring.

"It's just my Christmas present from Ron." he told his relatives.

His uncle appeared to think for a moment (how unnatural) then said "Is that one of the ones who was here last summer?"

"No." Harry replied quickly, too quickly.

His uncle's piggy eyes narrowed. "Throw it out of the window, off our property."

"But..."

"Now, boy." There was no arguing with him in this mood. Harry hoped it wasn't too fragile- maybe he could retrieve it in the morning. Then he remembered that he would be back in his cupboard, and all hope was lost.

Harry resignedly picked up the bundle, which was fairly heavy, and lobbed it out of the window. It came down on the road. And exploded. The Weasley twins must have put some tricks in it to entertain him, and they did not take well to the impact. The resulting boom was horribly noisy.

"You just woke up the whole neighbourhood, stupid boy. Petunia, close the curtains so they don't know it was from our house."

Vernon went quiet. "That was a bomb. Not enough for you to deform his tail and tongue you thought that you'd go a step further and try to kill our son. You murderer!" his voice had risen steadily.

Then the beating started. After a while Harry was kicked down the stairs into the hall. At some point his uncle had begun using everything he could get his hands on to hit Harry with. As he hit the boy with a lamp, the ceramic base and glass shade broke, and cut deeply into his body.

Pain wracked Harry from head to toe. He swore to himself that he would not scream, he would not scream, he would not. He couldn't stop himself from begging.

"Please, Uncle Vernon, please stop."

"Please don't hurt me."

And finally, as his breathing became erratic due to the pain in his chest, just "Please, please, please." whispered raggedly over and over again.

Vernon jumped on Harry's arm. Harry heard himself screaming just before he fainted.

Flawed Lines - Chapter 2

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