Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter 1 - Duty Of Care

Harry Potter had always considered the castle his home. Unlike other students, he had no family to go back to at the end of each year, and as such, the school was important to him in a way that it wasn't to others - not even the teachers. This in itself wasn't important. Plenty of orphans had viewed the school as a home over the centuries. The thing was, during most of those 'centuries', the Ministry hadn't placed a sadistic madwoman in a position of unrivalled power at the school - a sadistic madwoman that the castle itself wanted to eject. Unfortunately, she could only interfere once the toad had crossed a line, and even then, Hogwarts couldn't change things herself. She would have to appoint someone else to that task.

You might be wondering now what Harry Potter's thoughts on Hogwarts had to do with anything, and the answer is this: With magic, intention is key.

Sat in a chair by the fire in the deserted Gryffindor common room, Harry scowled at the fire with another bandage around his hand. He'd had another detention with Umbridge a few hours ago, and he was still bleeding a little from the extended use of the blood quill. Ron and Hermione had gone up to bed ages ago, but Harry had remained awake, a feeling of energy and restlessness ruining any chance of sleep.

Despite the opinion of Snape, Malfoy, the Slytherins and Umbridge, Harry wasn't stupid. He knew that there was no way blood quills were made for use in a school, and an afternoon in the library had confirmed his suspicions; use of blood quills on a minor was not only a punishable offence, but the quills themselves were restricted class B dark objects, for use in binding contracts only. Traditionally, Purebloods used them to sign marriage contracts.

Harry was also well aware that he couldn't risk telling anyone or lodging a formal complaint against Umbridge until it was proven that Voldemort had returned. As it was now, Fudge would find some way to paint Harry as the bad guy - or at least the insane one. After all, the scars on his hand proved only that he had used a blood quill to write 'I must not tell lies'. If he was lucky, Fudge would get rid of any evidence against Umbridge and say that he used the quill willingly, then have him sentenced to the Mind Healers in St Mungos for being crazy. If he was unlucky, he'd be sentenced to Azkaban for five years for being in possession of a class B restricted dark object and Fudge would use the public outcry to further discredit Dumbledore.

Harry couldn't risk that happening. He knew why the Sorting Hat had almost placed him in Slytherin, and the information he had against Umbridge would be put to better use when he was back to being the public's darling, much as he despised the attention. Right now, it would only be used against him.

He couldn't help but think back wistfully to the days where they had run around solving mysteries, rather than having to deal with all this cloak and dagger stuff they had to deal with now. There was so many things he still didn't know; why Dumbledore wasn't even looking at him, why he had to learn Occlumency, why Snape was teaching him Occlumency without actually telling him anything (besides the obvious hatred) what the weapon in the Ministry was, and why he had seen the attack on Arthur Weasley - from the eyes of Nagini. There was so much he still didn't know, and it didn't look like he'd be finding out anytime soon either.

The portrait hole creaked as it opened behind Harry, and he looked around at the Gryffindor who was entering. It was almost curfew; whoever had stayed out this late was cutting it pretty close.

Colin Creevey stumbled in, and even from this distance Harry could tell he was upset. Standing quickly, Harry strode over to the fourth year.

"Colin? What's wrong?" He asked, eyes taking in the boy's tear-stained face and bloody handkerchief clutched to the back of his hand. Colin shook his head and tried to move past him, but Harry reached out and caught his shoulder gently, before firmly capturing Colin's wrist and pulling away the bloody handkerchief.

A drop of blood welled up from the words that had been carved into Colin's hand, dripping off the end of his thumb and hitting the stone floor, but Harry was so enraged that he didn't notice. Red clouded his vision but he didn't let his hands tighten around Colin's wrist for fear of accidently hurting the boy. Nevertheless the torches flared up in a display of accidental magic as Harry's magic reacted to his anger.

Harry Potter is a liar and a bad influence. I must avoid him. Harry read the words again, but felt no less anger than before. How dare she! How dare that hag drag others into her campaign against him!

"Let's take you to Madame Pomfrey." Harry said with no room in his voice for argument. Colin shook his head violently. "No. She said I shouldn't, I have to let it heal n-naturally so that the message 'sinks in.'" He shuddered. "She said she'd know if I went to Madame Pomfrey for help."

Harry's blood boiled, but he tried to contain it. Umbridge wasn't here for him to yell at, so there wasn't any point to him blowing up. He tried to think of where he could get help instead, but couldn't think of anything. He didn't want to just use Myrtlap Essence for Colin since it still left a scar - his own hand was proof of that. Colin didn't deserve to be scarred because the Ministry hated Harry. No, he needed actual medical attention, which meant one of the teachers who knew something about healing. As far as he knew, that ruled out any of the elective teachers with the possible exception of Hagrid who knew how to patch up creatures, but Harry somehow doubted that the gamekeeper knew how to heal a would inflicted by a dark object. Quite besides which, Hagrid couldn't keep his mouth shut, no matter how much Harry cared for the man. That left core subject teachers; McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Binns, Umbridge, and Snape.

Umbridge was obviously out straight away, as was Binns. Neither McGonagall nor Flitwick knew anything about healing as far as he knew. Professor Sprout might know some plants that would be good for healing, but Harry didn't know her that well and suspected that the Herbology Professor might try to convince them to tell someone else about the use of a dark object on minors. That left Snape.

Harry crinkled his nose in distaste. He really didn't like the potions professor, and his Occlumency lessons weren't improving his opinion of the man. His first instinct was to immediately discount the possibility of the man's help, but Harry forced himself to think rationally. There really wasn't anyone else he could get help from, and as a potions master, Harry reckoned he probably knew how to help. The only question was whether he would, and whether he'd tell Umbridge.

Remembering the incident where Umbridge inspected Snape's class, Harry doubted Snape would go out of his way to help the toad. Gulping and ignoring the dread pooling in his stomach, Harry sat the still-crying Colin down in one of the chairs before running up the stairs to his dormitory, stealthily grabbing the Marauder's Map before creeping back down the stairs.

"Colin." He said once he reached the tearful boy, Map in hand. "I know this sounds crazy, but ... we're going to have to go to Snape."

Colin immediately opened his mouth to protest, but Harry beat him to it. "He's a potions master, so he probably knows something that can help you. He hates Umbridge, she really irritated him when inspecting his class so he won't tell her about it. The worst thing he can do to us is refuse to help."

Colin didn't look convinced. "Won't Umbridge notice if my hand is suddenly better?"

"We've been learning glamour charms in class." Harry explained, having already thought of this. "I can use one to disguise your hand."

Colin still looked hesitant, but nodded reluctantly. Harry led him to the portrait hole and climbed through before opening the Map and looking for Professor Snape. As expected, he seemed to be in his office.

Harry led the fourth-year through the corridors, using the Map to avoid patrols. After about fifteen minutes of sneaking around, they made it to the Potions classroom. Closing the door quietly behind them, Harry stuffed the Map up his sleeve so Snape wouldn't find it if he made Harry empty his pockets ... again. (There was no Remus Lupin to save his skin this time.) They made their way across the classroom to the door that led to Snape's office, still tiptoeing despite the fact that it didn't matter if Snape heard them. Harry wasn't at all surprised when Snape opened his office door before they were halfway across the classroom. The Potions professor would be the one who had some sort of alarm on his classroom door.

Surprise flickered briefly in his eyes, but it was soon consumed by anger. "Potter." He spat. "Out after curfew. Did you think it would be funny to try and hex my classroom and get away with it? Arrogant brat, just like your father-"

Harry gritted his teeth and bit back a retort, reminding himself sharply that Colin needed Snape's help. "Professor." He interrupted, once Snape's rant showed no signs of letting up. Seeing Snape's eyes flicker in rage - really, it was surprising how expressive black eyes could be - Harry didn't bother to speak further, simply grasping Colin's wrist and turning his hand so Snape could clearly see the marks.

Snape clearly wasn't willing to let go of the idea that Harry was in the wrong somehow, though, since he simply started ranting again. "So you decided to steal the potion you needed from my private stores? Have you not thought about the fact that any medicinal potions kept there also supplies the hospital wing? Your selfish and thoughtless actions could have deprived a seriously injured student of a life-saving tonic. Your father was just the same..."

Harry tuned out the rest, having a fairly good idea about what Snape thought of his father from their Occlumency lessons. He hadn't know that Snape stocked the hospital wing, but in hindsight it made sense. Those potions must be pretty complicated, and Snape is good at potions, despite not being great at teaching.

He began paying attention again when Snape stopped talking. "Sorry, Professor," He began, knowing full well that he didn't sound sorry at all but figuring he was doing quite well, considering all he wanted to do was snap at the man, "I don't actually know what potion could help Colin's hand. That's why I came to ask."

This seemed to stop Snape in his tracks, though whether that was because Harry had used a sort of respectful tone (as much of one as he ever used where Snape was concerned) or because of what he had said, Harry didn't know.

"You're still out of bed after curfew." He snapped, apparently unable to let it go. Though, he was a Slytherin, so Harry would bet that Snape was already thinking things through behind his mask of aggravation.

"Colin only returned from his detention a few minutes before curfew, and I insisted we do something about his hand as soon as possible." Harry said, neatly pinning any blame on himself.

"There is a hospital wing, Potter." Snape started to turn back to his office, robes billowing in their usual ominous way. "Stop thinking yourself above the rest of the population who get their medical care from an authorised medi-witch."

"High Inquisitor Umbridge warned Colin not to go to the hospital wing as healing would prevent the message from 'sinking in'." Harry said with distaste. "She also claimed that she would know if Colin disobeyed her and went to the hospital wing anyway."

Snape turned around to face Harry again. "You believe her?" He asked, his eyes glittering strangely.

"If he goes to the hospital wing and she does find out, she'll make him do even more lines." Harry said. A small part of his brain noted the almost-civil conversation they were having with incredulity. Oddly enough, his mind seemed to have descended it his 'battle mode', where his emotions seemed far away and the only thing that mattered was what he was trying to do. "I figured it probably wasn't worth the risk."

Snape stared at them a moment longer. Try as he might, Harry couldn't tell what was going through Snape's mind. After a moment longer, Snape abruptly spun and disappeared into his office, leaving the door open behind him. Having no desire to set foot in the hellhole where Snape 'taught' him Occlumency, he led Colin to one of the chairs and gently pushed him down, before taking a seat next to him. The fourth year seemed very subdued, though he'd finally stopped crying. Harry looked at Colin's hand and to his relief, it had stopped bleeding.

Snape strode out of his office, a jar in one hand and a thick brush, like the kind you'd use to coat a roast chicken with oil, in the other. He wordlessly opened the jar which contained some kind of paste and dipped the brush in it. He carefully applied the paste to the words carved into Colin's hand. The fourth-year didn't move or flinch at all, but a couple of new tears trailing down his face betrayed the fact that he was in pain.

"Leave that on. Let it soak in." Snape ordered tersely. "It should have sealed over by tomorrow morning. Do you have any further detentions with her?"

Colin shook his head, shoulders slumped.

"I suggest you keep it that way." Snape said. "I have no desire to rescue you from your own mistakes again." He turned to Harry. "Are there any others?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. He hadn't even considered that unpleasant possibility. "I'll find out." He could start by asking the DA, then getting them to keep an eye on the members of their House.

Snape nodded brusquely. "Do so. I will apply the paste to any others, but I will not be any more involved than that. Should Umbridge discover you, my name will not be mentioned. Is that clear?" He glared at Harry impressively. Harry nodded meekly, tension draining out of him now he'd gotten what he wanted. Harry started to stand, but was stopped by a hand yanking up his sleeve and pinning his arm to the desktop, leaving the raised red lines on the back of his hand perfectly clear in the torchlight: I must not tell lies.

Harry stared in surprise as Snape began to apply the paste to his hand. He wasn't surprised that Snape either knew or figured out that he had been subjected to the blood quill, exactly, but he was surprised that Snape cared enough to fix his hand without prompting or his own lines even being mentioned.

Snape finished applying the paste to his hand and stood abruptly, affixing the lid onto the jar and sweeping away with both the paste and the brush. Returning from his office, he began speaking harshly. "I will tolerate you out of bed after curfew for the purpose of healing your hand, but if I catch you out of bed for any other reason, I will assign detentions and take points. Am I understood?" Both Harry and Colin nodded emphatically; Snape's voice suddenly had a dangerous edge to it, the one he used right before he detracted a lot of points and gave someone detention for a month.

Not waiting to be dismissed with more harsh words and insults, Harry and Colin quickly made their exit. Harry could have sworn that as they left, Snape's eyes had been glittering, as though with some unknown emotion.

Severus Snape slumped into his office chair after having made sure that all his privacy spells and wards were intact. He maintained his usual expressionless mask even now, simply so he would be on guard if and when the Dark Lord called him, but behind that his mind was working furiously on the events of the night and what possibilities could arise from it.

Seeing Potter standing in his classroom in the middle of the night had been a nasty shock, he had to admit, since it had taken him back to the old days when Potter Sr. and his cronies would corner him in an abandoned classroom and have un unfair fight, usually with Severus losing. Acting completely on instinct, he had verbally torn into the Potter boy. After thinking about it for a few seconds once his Occlumency kicked in, he was forced to conclude that he may have acted too much on instinct. Reprimanding the boy was justified; baselessly accusing him of intending to hex his classroom was not. Although he'd never tell Potter that.

He could only conclude (without the memory of James Potter clouding his judgement) that if Potter had willingly set foot in his domain, there must be a reason for it and it was most likely important, at least to the Potter boy. Unfortunately, thanks to his immediate and vicious insults aimed at the boy's father, Potter Jr. would start insulting him back and then refuse to tell him what was so important in the first place.

Which made it all the more surprising when Potter did nothing of the sort. When he didn't stop talking, Potter unwisely interrupted him (which still made his blood boil) then instead of insulting Severus back or even bothering to talk at all, Potter seemed to recognise that Severus wasn't going to listen to anything he said and simply showed him the reason for being in his classroom.

A cold rage filled Severus's chest as he remembered the marks left by the blood quill. If there was one thing that never failed to get under his skin, it was the torture of a child - and torture was exactly what the forced use of a blood quill was.

He wondered if Potter knew that a blood quill was a dark object. If he did, he had far more intelligence than Severus ever gave him credit for; no-one would believe anything Potter said right now, and if Potter knew what a blood quill was and hadn't said anything, then he obviously knew that.

Someday, Umbridge would go to Azkaban for her crimes; Severus would make sure of it. He hadn't only volunteered to heal the brats out of the goodness of his heart, although that was a part of it (Albus would have his head if he didn't help them). He would set up observation spells and document the damage the blood quill caused to the students to be used as evidence later.

He couldn't quite fathom why Potter was behaving differently, however. Not only had the boy actually swallowed his pride and dislike and come to him for help, the Potter brat had also completely refused to react to his insults. Normally he only had vaguely imply that Potter Sr. was anything less than a saint to get a rise out of the boy.

The only other important thing he'd noticed aside from Potter's behaviour was when he treated Potter's hand. The outside of his arm had looked unmarked, but when he'd grabbed the boy's wrist his potions maker's fingers, used to telling him if the consistency or an ingredient in a potion was correct, had noticed a thin raised line ending just above Potter's wrist. That meant the boy was hiding something under a glamour.

Severus couldn't help but wonder what everyone's darling had to hide.

Harry lay in bed, frustrated beyond belief as he stared up into the darkness, listening to the other boys snore. He still wasn't sleepy; in fact, he seemed to be even more restless than before. His thoughts just seemed to be going in circles ...

Distracted as he was, Harry failed to notice the faint threads of golden light encasing him until they reached up to cover his face. As it was he only managed one last, disjointed thought before he was covered completely.

... feels like ... home.

She was pleased.

Things were already different. She had kept He-Who-Saved awake a little longer, and because of that He-Who-Saved had learned of Babbler's pain at the hands of Toad, and the required ingredient had been obtained. She had spent a little more time gathering energy to be prepared, before beginning the transfer once He-Who-Saved was in bed where Others wouldn't see.

The Toad would leave soon. He-Who-Saved would make sure of it. And to make sure He-Who-Saved would be able to make Toad leave, she would give him something ...

So, this is the first chapter of the re-write of Headmaster Harry Potter. Because it is a re-write, Harry will again be Headmaster, but this one is set sometime before the D.A disaster in April. I'm thinking middle of March.

However, my story is an AU, so Umbridge became Acting Headmistress in either January or February while Dumbledore was investigated by the Ministry. Like with Trelawney, Dumbledore couldn't be forced from the grounds until the investigation was completed and Umbridge officially appointed. Unofficially the investigation was completed ages ago and Dumbledore found fit to continue as Headmaster, but the Ministry are dragging things out for as long as possible to give Umbridge more time to 'discover' something incriminating.

Updates on this? Not going to be regular. Sorry, but ... it's hard to write.

Enjoy, Shib. :)