Dear Mr. Potter

Chapter Seventeen

"I'm okay. I promise."

Harry pushed out of the embrace a bit fearfully. Hermione understood and stepped back.

"I'm sorry, Harry. His pupils had gone vertical and he had those silver splotches, just like the book described. And the things he was saying and threatening you with... We were just so afraid that he was going to do something awful to you," she said. Harry sat down in his seat in History of Magic. Hermione and Ron returned to their seats as well after having jumped up to greet him when he came in.

"He did, Hermione," Ron insisted. "Harry had to eat with the Slytherins. Was it bad, Harry?" Harry shook his head.

"No, not really. I was afraid that he would make me sit on the floor. In fact, I think a lot of the Slytherins were as shocked as I was when he didn't. But he wasn't angry anymore after I, um, apologized and he left me pretty much alone."

"Well, that's good." Hermione said.

"Yeah, but how are you ever going to face Snape again?" Ron asked.

"Ron!"

"It's okay, Hermione." Harry turned to Ron. "Snape doesn't like what is happening. He doesn't like being out of control like that, so actually, I think I'll have it the easiest in Potions this term." Harry smiled mischievously.

"Yeah, only cause your polishing his wand for him!"

"Shut it, Seamus!" Ron yelled. Just then Professor Binns floated in and called the class to order, cutting off anymore words and the few giggles that had accompanied Seamus's remark. Harry hunched his shoulders and began copying down word for word what Binns was rambling on about. He had no idea what the words meant strung together in a sentence, just that he needed something to concentrate on. Hermione put her hand on his back in a comforting gesture. Harry ignored it and the whispers around him. But he couldn't help but hear them.

"...on his knees..."

"...to a Slytherin!"

"...think he likes it..."

"...did you see his smile when he came out of there..."

"... Ministry would never make Harry do anything he didn't want to..."

Ron's hands were trembling fists as he no doubt had heard it as well. The Ravenclaws were the worst. They were cold blooded intellectuals who rarely took into account emotions. Which was odd because the most emotional person he ever met had been a Ravenclaw.

The whispers seemed to follow him for the rest of the day. Ron got into several scuffles resulting in both Hermione and Harry breaking it up. Harry assured both of them that it didn't bother him. But it did. He didn't know if he would understand the compulsion he was under if he wasn't experiencing it. So it was unfair of him to expect his schoolmates to understand. But the whispers and looks still hurt.

It was a very subdued Harry who came in to dinner. When Draco imperiously gestured him over to the Slytherin table, Harry was almost relieved. At least at Slytherin he was expecting and able to handle the derision they threw his way.

Walking up to where Draco was sitting, he waited, feeling the rush of attention to Draco as the high kicked in. The Slytherins were shooting him disgusted looks and making nasty comments which he ignored.

"What are you doing?"

Harry started to answer Draco's question when he realized the blonde wasn't speaking to him.

"I'm eating," Blaise Zabini said. "What does it look like?"

"Move over," Draco ordered. Blaise and several others looked at Draco as if he had lost his mind.