At the front of the nearly empty classroom stood two students and a teacher. Dudley was wailing pitifully about how the other student, a poor boy by the name of Timothy, had stolen his jacket. Timothy, on the other hand, was meekly trying to defend himself. Harry was at the back of the room, watching carefully. Timothy had obviously not stolen the jacket, as he was wearing his own, but it was cold and Harry knew for certain that Dudley had left his jacket at home, claiming that he could take the cold like a man.

Dudley was making a pretty convincing case, if annoying the teacher to the breaking point was a "convincing case". Finally the teacher told Timothy to give Dudley the jacket he was wearing in compesence for the theft. Harry waited until the two left for recess to approach the teacher.

"Sir?" He said strongly. The teacher, Mr. Jones-Smith, looked up and smiled at him.

"Hullo, Mr. Potter," he greeted. "Your cousin has quite a set of lungs on him. He should join the choir." Harry didn't find the humor in the joke.

"Timothy didn't steal Dudley's jacket." Mr. Jones-Smith sighed.

"I know." Harry felt something in his gut burn and clenched his hands into fists. The teacher recognised his angry expression and tried to defend himself. "I know that your cousin was wrong. Timothy did not take Dudley's jacket as Mr. Dursley never came in with a jacket. However, you cousin is very stubborn. If I didn't do something, we'd have been in this room for hours until Dudley finally got tired and left. By that point, I would be behind on my work, classes would be over, and everyone would have been starving." The teachers words were not exagerated. He had seen Dudley stubbornly refuse eating his vegetables until everyone in the Dursley house was nearly starving and it was the next meal time already, and then Harry watched as his cousin was praised for it. It was impressive. His head tilted. He would not have minded staying firm for hours, but he didn't think he could have kept Timothy from eating or going to class. He also knew that there were many assignments that just his class alone did. Mr. Jones-Smith would need a lot of time to get it all done and marked to give back to his students. His head tilted the other way. On the other hand, Harry thought there could have been another way to deal with the problem instead of giving Dudley Timothy's jacket. However, he didn't get the final say in the matter; Mr. Jones-Smith did. Harry put on his jacket and bag and left for recess without a word.

Mr. Jones-Smith slumped at his desk, stretching his neck. Mr. Dursley was about as much of a handful as five spoiled children combined, but his cousin was something else entirely. Something about that child was unsettling. At such a young age, he was indignant on somebody else's behalf, when many children were still getting over their self-centered mindset they had growing up. He sighed, pulling a stack of papers forwards. Hopefully the child knew better than to start fights at school, if that angry determined look was going to lead to anything.

Finding Timothy in the school yard wasn't all that hard. The boy was huddling as close to a square machine as he dared without getting close enough to the metal to burn him. Harry didn't think it was that cold, but the boy's threadbare clothes certainly wouldn't provide as much protection as Dudley's hand-me-down clothes. Harry approached. Timothy peered carefully at him through his curly bangs as Harry crouched next to the other boy. They stared at eachother, Harry chewing the inside of his cheek while he thought about what to say.

"I can get your jacket back, if you want," he offered finally. Timothy shook his head.

"No." Harry chewed around some more. Timothy looked scared for a second and said "I-I don't want you to get in trouble." He quieted to a whisper. "With-with your aunt and uncle, that is." Harry stared more, still. Slowly his head tilted. He didn't know how he knew, but.. Timothy was scared for some reason. He tilted. Scared of him? Why would Timothy be scared of Harry? He tilted again. He couldn't think of a time when Harry had even interacted with Timmy at all, much less left a less than stellar impression. Scared of other people, then? Harry could understand that. He still remembered the way that Ms. Borne treated them, and Mr. Jones-Smith was not leaving a good taste either. That would only leave distrust in teachers though, as what Harry was starting to feel. So what happened with the teachers had happened with other people. Kids, probably. He straightened. There wasn't anything Harry could do about it now. Timothy wouldn't accept his own jacket back for fear of retailiation. So what could Harry do? The thought of leaving Timothy there to his own devices made Harry feel sick and his ears burn, so what to do? He felt his neck getting warm and glanced at the sleeves of his own jacket he was wearing. He blinked. That would work.

As Harry started shrugging off his jacket, Timothy caught on to his plan and started to object. "N-no, please, really. You don't have to give me your jacket!" He ducked his head as Harry threw the jacket around his shoulders. "Won't your aunt and uncle be angry?" He worried weakly. Harry shook his head as he grabbed the poor boys wrist and pulled it through the sleeve.

"They won't care," he smiled. "If anything, they'll be happy. I'm learning how to fend off the cold without need of clothes."

"But, won't you be cold?" Harry shook his head, buttoning up the jacket. He smiled and tugged on the bottom of the jacket, straightening it out. The sleeves were a little long, but otherwise the old jacket fit pretty good.

"It's not cold to me," Harry said. "Is it cold to you now?" Timothy shook his head, looking at the dirt beneath them.

"Thank you," he said. Harry smiled and squeezed his hand through the sleeve.

"Do you want to play til the end of recess?"

"I don't really like to play games," Timothy said. "I usually just watch the others." Harry sat down next to him.

"I do the same thing," Harry said. "I think it's a good way to spend time." Timothy stared at him, but after Harry tugged on his sleeve he slowly sat down. They stayed like that, leaning against eachother and talking quietly, watching the other children play and expend their energy, until the end of recess.

Harry liked it. He knew that the two of them weren't friends, but there was a warm bond between the two of them that wasn't between him and the other children. He wondered what had happened to cause the bond. Giving Timothy the jacket? Sitting with him when no one else would? Coming to help in the first place? He watched everyone carefully. Everyone seemed happy, and even Dudley was gloating to his slowly forming gang about taking Timmy's jacket. It wasn't a good way of bonding, but it was. Every child on the playground had someone to play with. Did they have the same bond as Timothy and him?

Warmth from no where felt like it was being poured on him from above, and he tilted his head back to feel it. There was nothing tangible there, but it certainly felt like it. He'd only felt warm water when he was washing dishes, but this was like it was thicker, between water and syrup. It was the most lovely feeling he had ever felt. It was even better than when he made his Aunt happy.

He felt Timothy look at him when he sighed and looked back. Harry thought about saying something but instead grinned, squeezing Timothy's hand gently. Tim smiled and squeezed back. Harry sighed and leaned his head on his knees, closing his eyes.

Yes, he was very happy.