A/N 1 My surname is not Rowling, but I am immensely grateful to her for the enjoyment she's brought to my life. I love playing in her world and have had so much fun writing this.

A/N 2 Neither is my surname 'Tutnix' though the first two chapters are based on her wonderful "The Other Side' story. It's a fanfic of a fanfic!

A/N 3 I'm very unfair to Seamus and Dean (amongst others), but I'm also a sucker for a happy ending - they'll come good in the end!

Chapter 1: A Learning Experience

9pm, Saturday 31 October, 1994

"I wonder, headmaster, if you've given any thought to the feelings of my house?"

McGonagall had the decency to look shamed by that. The same could not be said for Dumbledore.

"Young people adore change, Severus; it will be quite a treat for them to have someone new in the ranks."

"A treat?! It will be seen as an insult; it should be seen as an insult! Potter has managed to get his name into the Goblet,"

"Now, now Severus, I'm quite sure Harry wasn't responsible for that."

"Then perhaps the ever-irritating Miss Granger on his behalf? Nevertheless, he has contrived to break school rules yet again. And he smashed the hourglasses!"

Dumbledore took a sideways glance at Snape.

"I'm surprised that upsets you. I never felt you had much faith in our points system."

"I don't. But as everyone else does, how could this possibly not be perceived as an insult? Apparently time spent with my house is the equivalent of detention or being stood in the corner."

"Oh, but he is not being punished …"

"Then he damn well should be!"

"I believe a … 'learning experience' is what Mister Potter needs, and I have nothing but confidence in your ability to provide it. Shall we settle on tomorrow evening for the changeover? Excellent!"

Severus collected himself enough to nod a familiar signal to McGonagall, which she returned.

"Headmaster." He said, and turned to leave.

oOo

Snape swept down to the dungeon so swiftly he imagined he'd shaved a clear three seconds off the time it would have taken to floo. Which defeated his purpose of foregoing magical transport in the first place; namely to calm down, mull matters over, and think of a way he could make the calamitous news work for him. As he rounded the granite column he spied four Slytherin first-years giggling and daring each other to ask silly questions of the portrait, Licorus Black.

"What exactly are you doing here?"

"Being impertinent, that's what!" Answered Licorus Black, "See to it that you whip them well!"

Snape ignored the cantankerous old fart in the portrait; he was too busy regretting his abrupt tone. These weren't the ones he was annoyed at. He was annoyed on their behalf. A few seconds passed until Astoria Greengrass spoke.

"Umm … some of the older ones said we were too noisy to play in the common room, sir."

"Miss Parkinson I'm sure, along with her constant companion, your sister." Severus softened slightly. "Go in. You know I don't like you playing alone outside at night."

He ushered the first-years through the stone door before attracting the attention of Daphne and Pansy.

"Misses Greengrass and Parkinson? Might I remind you that the common room is for everyone? If you're unhappy with that arrangement, you may go to your dormitory and stay there for the rest of the evening."

He then caught the eye of Armitage-Brown and jerked his head to summon him outside. The senior prefect of Slytherin House made his way there with dutiful alacrity, but so too did Adrian Pucey. Snape couldn't for the life of him fathom why he'd made Pucey a prefect. Still, he happened also to be one of a handful of Slytherins that tested to the limit his determination not to play favourites.

"Those four were outside. You know what first-years are like; at any moment they could have taken themselves off who knows where. Keep a closer eye on them, Delingpole especially."

Armitage-Brown nodded his understanding.

"Very well. Certain matters have arisen this evening. I'll speak to all the prefects when arrangements have been finalized. However, you'd do well to inform your housemates that if they wish to pass a comfortable weekend, they will follow my rules to the letter. It promises to be a trying time for all."

Pucey grinned.

"But after the weekend, it's back to being your usual indulgent self, is it sir?!"

"You are aware that prefects are not exempt, are you Mr Pucey?"

"Absolutely sir. You've reminded me often enough!"

oOo

The potions maker dropped the leaping toadstools into the wormwood infusion. It was a combination that was apt to be volatile in lesser hands, but as with so many areas in his life, Severus had worked hard to bring control to the unstable ingredients. And as intensely as Dumbledore's sham psycho-analytical witterings annoyed him, he conceded privately that this urge to make the chaotic predictable had indeed started with his father, who had had the constancy of quicksilver and a vicious fist to go with it.

The turmoil of school had ceded way to his Death Eater years. It had brought Voldemort into his life - the one individual who could make his terrifying father seem benign. Turning away from those dark days brought him back to Hogwarts. A head of house at twenty-one and entrusted with the care of seventy children. What had the old fool been thinking?

He had floundered that first year; both he and his Slytherins limping to the end of summer term amid brawling and bullying. But a chance remark by the headmaster had seen Severus spend that summer contemplating his nest of Snakes, analysing the problems and putting measures in place. The following autumn brought with it not only the start to a new academic year, but the bracing winds of change. The Slytherins didn't know what had hit them - both figuratively and literally. Severus seized control; transgressions were met with prompt correction. And the children he had once found whining and spiteful, Severus began to like and care for.

And now this … the 'little chat' that Dumbledore had mentioned so casually after the feast; the 'little chat' of which he'd so rightly been suspicious; the 'little chat' in which he'd been told that Potter would be joining Slytherin House for the rest of the term. That little chat had shaken his well-ordered world; shaken it and turned it upside down. Severus inhaled deeply, noted the pleasing colour change in his potion and tried to take comfort in having controlled the erratic energy of the toadstools - though it was a small victory compared to the Hagrid-sized spanner Albus Dumbledore had just thrown in the works.

oOo

Friday October 30, 1994

In hindsight, the torrential rain on the journey back to Hogwarts had been fitting for what had been an awful start to the fourth year. Ron had got annoyed as they were unpacking their school trunks. Noting Harry's latest Weasley jumper wasn't there, he'd mumbled something about it not being good enough but he didn't mind tagging along with them to the World Cup. Harry had been too tired to tell him Dudley had trashed it. Ron's grousing continued the next day when Harry forgot a scheduled game of Wizard's Chess, but worse than that, Ron appeared to have co-opted Seamus and Dean into his petty 'Harry thinks he's too good for us' campaign.

Even the excitement over the upcoming Triwizard Tournament was used against him. Dean started it - saying one lunchtime that Harry must hate the tournament as it meant he missed a whole year of showing off in the Quidditch Cup. Ron laughed and began speculating on how Harry might draw attention back to himself. Were there any other monsters lurking in Hogwarts waiting to capture the all-important Harry Potter, Ron wondered. Harry forced a smile - knowing if he objected, he'd be ridiculed for not being able to take a joke.

But that afternoon, all hostilities became a thing of the past as they entered the potions classroom united to face the common enemy …

oOo

"As the making of this antidote demands multiple steps, I am not hopeful of success." Snape prowled the class. "However, I am duty bound to at least allow you to try."

"Not duty bound to encourage us though." Muttered Harry to Ron. Part of him felt grateful to Snape; the man was such a colossal bully that he and Ron couldn't fail but fall back into their friendship - if only for mutual support. But that boon was soon withdrawn.

"Potter, you will partner Miss Bulstrode for today's lesson."

Millicent looked up briefly, then bowed her head - not so Harry and his twin companions.

"Sir! I wasn't doing anything wrong!" Harry cried.

"You can't do that!" Said Ron, whose objection was followed by a pleading Hermione.

"Really, Harry hasn't done anything, sir!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor. Weasley, Granger - see me after class."

Of all the Slytherins, Harry found Millicent to be one of the least repellent, and mid-way through making the potion he spoke to her.

"Why don't I have to stay behind? What's Snape up to?"

"He's teaching, Potter. Just do as he says."

Why bother, he thought; you're all the same. Millicent tried to show him how to hold the bat spleen for splicing, but she'd annoyed him with that comment and he refused to watch.

oOo

Hermione sat nervously hugging her satchel as Ron tried out aggressive stances and glowered at Snape's back. Harry dawdled over his packing up, however, there's only so many times you can rearrange three books, four sheets of parchment and two quills in a bag without it becoming obvious your intent is to linger and eavesdrop, and with a puzzled shrug of his shoulders, he turned to leave. Three steps towards the door and Snape's quill stilled.

"You dare to suggest that working with Miss Bulstrode is a punishment for Potter? How astonishingly arrogant you both are."

Harry spun around.

"They're my friends; they were just sticking up for me! Have a go at me, not them!"

"You've just cost your house another ten points with that outburst." Replied Snape, "And you have no further business here today. Close the door on your way out, Potter."

Snape left his desk and advanced on the two fourth years, his prowl making a mockery of Ron's posturing. Pulling a stool to the front of the workbench, he sat, interlaced his long fingers and spoke with the type of softness usually reserved for a sleepy child's bedtime story, but which coming from Snape, chilled Hermione to the core.

"For your information, the pairings I made today were not intended to be a reward for my Slytherins; I did not gift them a noble Gryffindor partner as a treat. As it happens, they are all well-practised in splicing bat spleens quickly enough to add before the shrivelfigs disintegrate. Though judging from the grey sludge you handed in Weasley, you obviously chose not to avail yourself of Nott's expertise."

"Why didn't you…?"

"I'll have no more questioning of my decisions. That self-importance has already earned you both detention here tomorrow at half past two and a further deduction of ten points. Each. Dismissed."

oOo

Saturday 31 October

Snape's mega points-grab happened to coincide with the slowest accrual of points Gryffindor had ever known. The teaching staff was more focussed on how the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would affect classes than rewarding good work and the dismal reality was that Snape's contribution meant the Lion House was now in points deficit. They all blamed him. Potter had felt it on Friday night as his housemates trooped past the empty points jar to greet the visitors. That, combined with whispering which fell silent when he entered a room, had put him right off lunch and driven him up to the owlery. He came down at 2pm to say goodbye to his friends and apologise once more for their detention. He was too late. Snape had brought it forward by thirty minutes and they were gone.

"Couldn't even be bothered saying cheerio to Ron and Hermione." Said Finnegan, "They carry the can and he gets off scot-free."

Potter couldn't listen to that; he grabbed his jacket and strode to Hagrid's hut. The groundskeeper was out, but Fang wasn't and he spent an hour being slobbered over.

But the unpleasantness of the Gryffindor common room was nothing compared to the aftermath of his name shooting out of the goblet. Hermione had been shocked - almost as much as he had himself. But Ron … Ron had given him a look that said 'You utter, utter bastard.' Compared to the cheers for Cedric, the silence of the Great Hall slapped Potter around the ears when his name was called. If there was ever a time he needed his friend at his back, that was it. His eyes searched Ron's face, but all he got was a disgusted shake of the head.

oOo

Walking up to the Gryffindor common room that night, Potter felt nervous. Opening the door, he realised he had every right to be so.

"Forget about him Ron, some people just live to show off." Dean was saying. "Of course he'd slip his name into the goblet."

"Oh no, he didn't do that! His name 'mysteriously' appeared." Said Seamus. "Well, here's hoping he 'mysteriously' falls flat on his arse in the tournament; it'll be justice well served!"

The start to the term had been awful, but this was too much. A vicious flick of Potter's wand saw Finnegan sailing up into the air, turning several loops and falling to the ground on his backside so hard it made everyone in the common room gasp. Potter couldn't move until he saw the boy rise awkwardly with the help of Thomas and two fifth-year girls. He slowly turned towards the door and took in the disapproving faces of even Fred and George. Just about to apologise and try to explain himself, he found himself overcome with a deep weariness.

His adventures since the first year had been exhilarating, but they took a toll. He loved Hogwarts yet he couldn't help wondering where the professors had been in his life. Aunt Petunia might be dreadful, yet she always knew where Dudley was. Where was anyone to look after him? Mrs Figg had been bloody useless; too concerned with her cats to notice he was barely fed. And what else did he have? Perhaps a few hugs twice a year from Ron's mum. Where were his teachers whilst he was off battling trolls and basilisks?

Of course, the dishonourable exception to all of this was bloody Snape. He was always lurking, poised to take points or give detention. Ron suspected he was always there because he was the root of all the trouble; even eminently sensible Hermione had sympathy with that view. But Potter? He wasn't so sure. Did Snape want him dead, or did he just wallow in his misery?

He couldn't think any more; he needed to get outside. He'd pinned so much on this weekend of new arrivals and feasts; felt certain that it would mark a turning point in the dismal term. But what had happened? He'd found himself entered into a suicidal competition and lost forty points. Hurtling down the last flight of stairs, he arrived in the entrance hall and saw it, the stand with the four hourglasses. In them gleamed a healthy dose of sapphire, a good showing of emerald, a yellow puddle at the bottom of the Hufflepuff jar - and clear glass for Gryffindor. Sodding Snape! He caused all this. But though it was a comfortable enmity to wallow in, it was one which was being prodded by another thought.

Points! All the snarky comments and nasty looks from supposed friends were over points. For crying out loud! He'd earned three times as many points in his first year as Seamus had in his whole school career - yet he was still the villain! He hadn't felt so frustrated and enraged since Aunt Marge had taunted him back in Surrey.

He wasn't even aware of it happening. One second his body was bristling with impotent rage, and the next he was staring at shattered glass all over the hall floor. But it felt glorious, it truly did - until something warm rubbed his legs and he heard the soft scrape of leather soles on stone as Filch raced over to see what misdemeanour Mrs Norris had uncovered.

oOo

It all happened so quickly after that. Minerva ordered Potter to his dorm while she met with Dumbledore. He didn't like disappointing his headmaster, but he took comfort in the fact that he genuinely liked and cared for him. He just wished that Dumbledore, like McGonagall, would sometimes notice he was having a rubbish time before disaster struck. And disaster was a fitting word for what happened next. Potter was summoned to Dumbledore's office and told the awful news. Intra-Gryffindor relations were now at an all-time low and he'd hurt the whole school with his act of wanton vandalism. It was therefore decided that he should be removed from Gryffindor for the rest of the term.

"You're sending me back to the Dursleys?!"

"Not at all, not at all." Soothed Dumbledore. "You will spend the rest of the term in another House. Slytherin."

It was an odd and entirely new sensation to be homesick for Little Whinging …