ALERT: Edited Chapters will all have (E) in the chapter title. Thanks for your continued support.

A/N: So this is my first chaptered FanFic. Please review. This is set during POA and has implied knowledge of stuff that went on before, and I think it will follow the story loosely, while going a bit AU at the same time! We'll see how it goes! I already have chapter 2 on the go and I'll try and update as fast as possible – we all know there's nothing worse than hanging out for updates!

Warning - Contains mention of self-harm, doesn't go into detail and only mentions as a past incident - will not occur, but will be dealt with, thought you ought to know.

Disclaimer - If I owned these characters I would currently be bombing along the winding roads of rural Italy in my Ferrari F430 Spider, but alas, I am here, writing for you all! Not mine obviously!

Enjoy!

-0-

Harry was standing alone in the darkness. He looked around, a little confused as to where he was, when suddenly he was surrounded by people everywhere he looked, and they were all going in different directions. He couldn't get out of the middle of the crowd and he was scared; petrified because he knew he couldn't do magic, knowing that if he did then he would be expelled for sure after his run in with Aunt Marge before school had started, not five weeks ago. And so he'd been pushed, pulled and knocked to the ground, becoming more and more afraid that the hundreds of people were going to crush him, until a bright light appeared before him. He covered his eyes as he tried to look into it, but he couldn't make out what it was. Finally, he felt a warm hand take his, and as his eyes adjusted to the light, he could just make out a pair of bright green eyes looking down on him warmly when his dreams shifted and all he could see was Sirius Black screaming at him.

For the third time that night Harry woke up in a cold sweat. He sat up on his luxurious four-poster bed in his Gryffindor dormitory and looked around. He let out a grateful groan in relief when he realised that he wasn't in a crowd, nor was he in front of a screaming, wild Sirius Black. Sighing deeply and rubbing his tired eyes he looked at his watch: 2:27am.

"Great," he muttered as he lay back down on his pillow. "Now what?" he thought as he realised he was not going back to sleep tonight.

He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Mr Weasley at King's Cross before he'd left to come to Hogwarts. Promise me you won't go looking for him, Harry. Harry pondered it for a moment. Why would he go looking for someone that wanted to kill him? He'd said as much to Mr Weasley, but he'd just ushered him onto the train without another word. Harry frowned and suddenly feeling a little less tired he got out of bed, pulling his father's invisibility cloak out of his trunk before making his way to the common room. He glanced around the empty room and smiled slightly. He'd had a terrible summer at the Dursley's and it always took him a little while to get over the effects of his stay. But as he stood in the empty room he felt its magic seep into his bones. Not that the common room had magic as such, but the magic of being back at Hogwarts, with his friends and teachers.

Over the previous two years Harry had become inseparable from Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, and had struck up a great friendship with many people in Gryffindor. He knew that Professor Dumbledore had a soft spot for him and he also knew that Professor McGonagall liked him too, although her affection was trickier to quantify due to her habitual severity. He considered his Head of House for a moment, thinking she'd been looking increasingly out of sorts in the last few days and her lessons had been uncharacteristically subdued. She was a strict teacher, but her lessons were always full of information with skills that Harry knew would be of great use. Not this week though. They'd done mainly theory, and every time Harry had looked up from his note taking she'd been staring out of the windows down at the lake with a wistful look in her eyes.

Shrugging to himself, he donned his invisibility cloak and walked out of the portrait hole. The fat lady stirred and peeked through one eyelid, but went back to sleep when she saw no-one in front of her. He wandered the stone hallways not really paying attention to where he was going, running his hands along the cold walls, feeling increasingly more at home the more he let his mind settle into the comfort of his beloved school.

"It's good to be home," he sighed as he stood looking at the now locked massive front doors of Hogwarts, feeling safer than he'd ever done at the Dursley's. He grudgingly understood that while he stayed with his aunt and uncle he was safe from Voldemort, but Dumbledore couldn't know how alone Harry felt when he was there. He couldn't know how tortured Harry felt the minute he entered the house that he'd come to see as his prison. It only usually took a few days before he would find himself cutting again. Never anywhere noticeable, normally only on his thighs, high enough that his summer Muggle shorts covered the angry red lines. But he knew as soon as he returned to school that the urge stopped, and now he was here he felt happier than he had for the last twelve weeks, knowing he would have a whole year before he had to go back to that. After getting on the train at Platform 9 ¾ he felt a great weight lift off his shoulders, and he no longer had the urge to slice his skin. Nobody in this castle could make him feel like he did when he was stuck in Little Whinging, well, Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape sometimes bought it back perhaps, but for some reason being here surrounded by his friends helped him keep it at bay.

He was brought out of his daydreaming when a sob penetrated the silence of the Entrance Hall. He frowned as he tried to pin point where it had come from. Craning his neck slightly he decided that he was hearing things, and that it was high time he got back to the common room before one of his professors did their customary sweep of the corridors. Wandering back towards Gryffindor Tower he passed by the Transfiguration classroom and was surprised to find a few candles still alight and the door ajar. He paused as he looked towards the end of the hallway, wondering whether he should just go back to bed, when he heard another sob. Taking a deep breath he made the decision to go in. He took off the invisibility cloak (better to be caught out of bed, than with it in his possession), and stuffed it in his pockets before tentatively pushing the door open and letting himself into the classroom. He leant against the wall as his eyes adjusted to the dim light but finding no-one there he frowned slightly, wondering where the sobs were coming from.

He walked down between the rows of desks set out in the classroom towards the front when he heard it again, the sound becoming clearer as he neared the door which he knew led to Professor McGonagall's office. Feeling slightly awkward he leaned against the door and listened. His Head of House was definitely crying and he took a deep breath, trying to decide what to do. While he had a great deal of] respect for Professor McGonagall and would even go as far as to say that he cared for her, she was not an easy person to get close to what with her unwavering rock solid exterior. This was the part that Harry had most trouble with as he stood outside her door; he knew she would not take kindly to him intruding on her space, especially as she was always so impassive in her manner. Finally deciding to leave her to her grief, he turned to leave the classroom but not before dimming the lights that had been left on. He was nearly past her desk when he stopped for a moment and conjured a flower for her. He didn't really know why he had done it, but Hermione had taught him and Ron how to just the day before and he felt like it would be a nice thing to do. He didn't know why after conjuring daisies the day before, but the flower that now appeared on his professor's desk was a perfect white lily. Shrugging as he left, he entered the corridor only to immediately bump into something, knocking him backwards into the wall.

"Oof!" he grunted as he hit the cold stone.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Boy Wonder, wandering the halls past curfew. What, may I ask, are you doing out of bed so late, Potter?"

Harry cringed as he listened how his worst nightmare spat the words at him so condescendingly. He'd known it was Snape from the minute he bumped into him. He looked defiantly up at his Potions Master and tried desperately to think of some sort of excuse but he struggled, realising that while his body wasn't that tired his brain seemed to be half asleep.

"Um, well Professor, I, um," he stammered, desperately cursing himself for not putting the invisibility cloak back on before he exited the classroom.

"I am waiting, Potter," Snape drawled, sneering at Harry with disgust plastered on his face.

Harry slumped. He knew that he had no excuse as for why he was out of bed and he shrugged in defeat.

"What were you doing in the Transfiguration classroom?" Snape demanded accusingly, staring straight at Harry.

Harry pondered this for a moment. He didn't want to tell Snape that he had heard Professor McGonagall crying, but what other excuse could he give. Again, he shrugged nonchalantly offering neither truth, nor resect for the teacher that had plagued him for the last two years without cause.

"You're just like your father. He thought he owned the school, roamed wherever he wanted, thought he was above the rules. Well, I have news for you Potter, you will not follow suit. That pathetic excuse for a wizard was nothing, he was a bastard and you're going exactly the right way to follow in his footsteps." Harry was too shocked for a moment to say anything as he listened to his Potions professor insult his father, before feeling the anger building up inside him uncontrollably.

"Take that back!" he shouted unexpectedly, momentarily surprising both of them as the sound bounced off the silent stone walls.

"You don't know what he was like. Oh yes, James Potter, perfect Potter, hero of Gryffindor. He was a bully and a coward and he got exactly what he deserved!"

Harry's fury bubbled over and suddenly he and Snape had wands raised at each other. Before either could utter a spell, however, both wands flew out of the air and were expertly caught by a dressing gown clad Minerva McGonagall, who looked positively fuming.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked sharply. Snape took a step back at her tone while Harry just looked at her, taking in the tear tracks running down her face, before dropping his gaze to the floor, ashamed that he had let it get that far.

"Severus?" she asked pointedly, looking at her colleague and other Head of House. He drew himself up, the shock of nearly blasting away one of his students wearing off sightly before answering.

"Potter was out of bed, we were just discussing his punishment."

Harry couldn't help but snort.

"Something to say, Potter?" McGonagall said, looking his way as he shook his head. "What on earth were you both doing with your wands out?"

"I was merely demonstrating to Mr Potter –" Snape started before Harry cut him off.

"Bullshit! You insulted my father!" he spat without thinking.

"Language, Potter," McGonagall said before turning to Snape, who looked decidedly sheepish as he was subjected to the famous McGonagall stare. "Well, Severus?"

He looked at her, studying her for a moment before replying. "I was merely informing Potter of his father's true characteristics."

Harry glowered at his Potions Master, who was now sneering at him over McGonagall's shoulder. Harry took a step towards Snape before being stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Be that as it may, that is no reason for you both to be pointing your wands at each other. Severus, in future you will remember to bring any student from my House caught out of bed at night straight to my office so I can deal with them personally. Good night Severus," McGonagall said with a finality that Snape couldn't ignore. He grabbed his wand out of her hand and spun on his heels, cloak billowing out from his sides as he strode further down the corridor, away from the Deputy Head and the Boy-Who-Lived.

-0-

"Git," Harry muttered under his breath as he watched Snape disappear around the corner.

"What have I said?" McGonagall rounded on him, handing back his wand, which he took carefully, with a grimace at her admonishment.

"Sorry Professor," Harry said sincerely, not meeting his teacher's eyes. He could almost feel her famous death stare boring right into him.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter, for wandering the corridors at night," she said with force as she turned to go back to her room, pausing for a moment in the doorway before turning back towards him. "By the way Potter, you wouldn't happen to know where this came from, would you?"

Harry's gaze flickered up to take in his Head of House, who was holding the flower Harry had conjured for her in her outstretched hand. Harry blushed a little, the corners of his mouth twitching as he rocked on the balls of his feet. Now it came down to it, he was a little embarrassed at having been caught leaving such a gift.

"Um, yeah, um, I, well I conjured it, Professor. I was walking past and I, well, I thought you could use some cheering up, but I didn't want to disturb you so I just, well, I, it's foolish now… And then Snape found me, and –"

"Professor Snape," McGonagall corrected, effectively stemming the rambling from Harry. He glanced up at her and saw that she did indeed seem a little happier as she looked at the flower in her hand. He downright gasped when she smiled gently, seemingly lost in her own world. Feeling a little foolish he turned to walk back to Gryffindor Tower, eager to climb back into bed even if only to stare at the ceiling rather than being caught wandering the corridors again, stuck in this strange situation.

"Do you know what today is, Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall said tenderly. Harry stopped and turned back, shocked to see tears now streaming down her face. He went to offer her some support before pulling his hand back, not really knowing how to comfort his usually stalwart teacher.

"I'm not really sure what you mean, Professor?" Harry stated quietly, trying not to upset her further.

"Why a lily?" she whispered again, looking right at Harry now, her eyes quivering as the tears ran down her face. Harry shrugged and answered truthfully.

"Honestly, Professor, I don't know. Hermione taught us how to conjure daisies yesterday, and I suppose I wasn't really thinking and it just appeared." He felt terrible as a sob escaped her mouth, her usually solid mask cracking even further as she clasped the flower to her chest. "Professor, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I just heard you crying and that was the only thing I could think of doing for you…" he trailed off sheepishly.

"Harry," McGonagall started hesitantly, making Harry look at her sharply; she'd never called him by his first name before. "Today is the 31st October," she stated sadly.

"What does that mean, Professor?" Harry asked, worried that he had missed some vital piece of information somewhere. She shook her head, before patting his arm gently. Offering him a tearful smile she placed her hand on his cheek, catching him off guard at all the emotions coming from his formidable professor.

"Your mother would be so proud of you, Harry," was all she said as she turned back towards her classroom and private quarters, careful to cast a Muffliato charm on the door, effectively silencing any noise from inside, and leaving a stunned Harry alone the corridor to consider all that had happened on this strange night.