AN: Sorry about the long wait. My creative juices were not flowing. I've gone over each chapter and did some editing, so you might notice some slight changes, but nothing major. The biggest thing would probably be Remus not longer knowing about the Room of Requirement. Please enjoy!

As predicted, the retaliation for helping a Gryffindor and getting a fellow Slytherin in trouble increased to an exponential level. Since they were Slytherin's nobody else ever saw their tricks, and their insults were hissed under their breaths so only I would hear. The only other person who knew about the Slytherin's attacks was Remus, and while the werewolf was not happy about it he couldn't convince my stubborn self to tell a professor.

Lucky for Remus I didn't have to tell anybody. After going to the Hospital Wing for the eighth time in one week, for spells or wounds too advanced for me or Taffy to fix, Madam Pomfrey took it upon herself to get the help I told her I didn't need.

When Albus Dumbledore came strolling into the Hospital Wing with a genial smile and robes bright enough to hurt my retinas, I turned my harshed glower onto Madam Pomfrey, only for her to raise an eyebrow. She dared me with her eyes to argue against the Headmaster's presence, but I was wise enough to stay silent. An argument wouldn't endear me to anyone.

"Miss King." Dumbledore gave me a pleasant smile. "Would you mind if I took a seat?" He gestured to the end of my hospital bed. "I'm afraid these old bones aren't what they used to be."

I nodded, and I could tell my expression was somewhat pinched. Dumbledore took no notice of my dissatisfaction, settling himself on the corner of the mattress with a happy sigh. "Much better. I don't often have to come here, but Madam Pomfrey has sent me some alarming news. Tell me, what causes you to come to the Hospital Wing for the eighth time this week?"

"I'm sure Madam Pomfrey already told you what was wrong." I smiled blandly. This was my first time speaking with Albus Dumbledore, and I didn't know how to think or act. I felt wrongfooted and didn't like it.

"I'd like to hear your side of the story, Miss King." He folded his hands in his lap, clearly prepared to wait for however long it took me to confess.

"Well, Headmaster," I used my right hand to gesture to my left arm, currently being held up by a cast, "the bones in my arm were vanished, so I came to Madam Pomfrey in the hopes she would fix it." The low ache in my arm grew more uncomfortable by the second. Pomfrey warned me it would be a painful process, and I wasn't looking forward to it.

"Ah, yes, so Poppy told me, but, Miss King, I'm here to talk about who did this to you."

I hummed. "Well, this particular incident happens to be the work of a sixth-year." A fourth-year broke my nose on Tuesday, and just that morning another fourth-year cracked my cheekbone. I was actually surprised Madam Pomfrey didn't get Dumbledore sooner, but I couldn't say I was pleased to see him now.

"And why would this particular sixth-year feel the need to hurt you?"

I barked a laugh, the sound of it so harsh it hurt my ears. "I ask myself the same thing every day, and I think we both know the answer, sir."

"Do we?" His pleasant tone never left, and it was starting to grate on me. I sat in front of him with half of my arm bones missing, and he sat there, prim as can be, acting like this was an everyday occurance.

"I'm a Muggle-born in Slytherin. If that wasn't bad enough, I also don't conform to the unspoken rules of the House. They expect me to kneel and grovel for their attention, since I'm no more than a dog in their eyes. Rosabell King has no money and no attachments," but Vermillion apparently did, "and excluding that I'm a dark spot on their otherwise pure record, so to speak."

He smiled, like I just told him the most amusing story. "Miss King, I highly doubt your housemates would think so poorly about one of their own."

"Perhaps you don't know what they think," I only shrugged my right shoulder since my left would jostle my arm. "How about we look at their actions instead? Exhibit A being my arm. Kind of hard to ignore that. An accident? Doubtful. People don't accidentally vanish bones, sir. It's a rather long spell, anyway, so it's not like he might have mispronounced it so badly it caused this. And if that were the case he was still planning on casting a spell at me in the middle of the hallway."

Dumbledore sighed, and I could have sworn it sounded disappointed. "Then I'm afraid this is cause for punishment. It is against school rules to duel in the corridors, Miss King."

"I wasn't duelling, Headmaster." The way I said his title implied anything but respect. "I was walking to my Care of Magical Creatures class when Mister Alexander Hilgard threw his spell. I'm lucky I moved, otherwise he would have vanished my spine."

"Very well. I'll see to it that Mister Hilgard is spoken with."

"You may as well punish the whole House, Headmaster." I said cordially. "As Madam Pomfrey said, this is my eighth time this week, and Hilgard isn't the only offender."

"Yes, but I'm afraid there's nothing to be done about the others. Madam Pomfrey only approached me for this particular incident, and I'm afraid the rest have taken place too long ago for me to be able to properly handle." He unfolded his hands and held them out in a helpless gesture.

I rose an eyebrow, barely able to refrain from snorting. "Yesterday is too long ago?" I shook my head in disbelief. "This is why I don't go to adults. You never help."

"On the contrary, Miss King. I would have been more than happy to help you in first-year."

My eyes sharpened, and the lavender purple of my magic began humming through the veins. "I'm sorry, Headmaster, I must've misheard you when you just admitted to knowing about these incidents since my first year here."

He sighed with that same disappointment as before, as if I were the one doing something wrong. "I was aware of your housemates treatment, but as it never happened again, and you handed it on your own, I didn't worry."

"That doesn't excuse you of the fact you knew about it and did nothing. I was an eleven-year-old child, still am a child in fact, and you chose to, hm, I believe abandon would be the proper term. I'm a child under your care, and I find out you knew, for three years, about me being verbally and physically abused by my housemates. I think, sir, that you have failed your post, and we both know I'm not the only one you failed."

His eyebrows furrowed a little bit, and from the brightening of his lemon-yellow magic I could tell it was out of irritation. He was suspicious of how I worded it, but of course, he didn't know exactly what I meant. I felt calm satisfaction, knowing I could rile him up like anyone else.

"We seem to have two different outlooks, and as you said, you're still a child. Perhaps a night in the Hospital Wing will help clear your mind, yes? It is an awful shame what you've had to go through, but I'm quite sure things will start looking up." Dumbledore pushed himself off of the bed so he could stand up. "I'll have one of your classmates bring you your work. We wouldn't was you to fall behind."

I nodded my head with clenched teeth. My opinion of the man had already been shaky, but that conversation, quite frankly, ruined it. As a Headmaster his first priority belonged to the wellbeing of his students. Him knowing I was being attacked truly worried me, because I had never told anybody what was going on.

Anger filled me. Remus was the only other person who knew about the attacks, and I told him not to tell any of the professors. Come to find out he went straight to Dumbledore, and my fragile hope of our friendship growing closer shattered into a million pieces. I accepted his preference of the Marauders. Those four boys had always been thick as thieves since they met at the Welcoming Feast in First-year, and I was always sort of a background friend. Still very close, of course, but he had a tendency to back out of meetings with me to join them on their prank fiascos, and I lived with it. But to go behind my back and spill a secret that wasn't his was not something I could forgive.

The sting of betrayal cut deep. My trust in him had been initially fractured when he admitted to revealing the Kitchens, but I rebuilt it since that day. There would be times Remus asked me not to go to the Kitchens because James and Sirius would want to go. The first few times I refused, because the Kitchens were one of the two sanctuaries I could go to get away. Then there was a time they showed up unannounced, and I only got away unseen because Shaggy grabbed me and popped us away.

I thought about how there were never any friendships between a Gryffindor and Slytherin. Severus and Lily would end up breaking their friendship next year, because he falls into the mindset of the other Slytherins, thinking Muggle-borns were lesser, his attitude growing cold and aloof, and later on joining Voldemort. There was the fact he became a spy, and always regretted losing his friendship with Lily, but that didn't mean much in the long run.

It seemed the other Slytherins were onto something, sneering at the idea of befriending Gryffindors. Remus didn't understand the fundamental part of me needing my space, and keeping certain things to myself. This was an unfortunate eye opener for me. Remus was the only person in this life I felt truly close to, and I find out he went behind my back to a Professor. Not just any Professor, but the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore himself.

My anger only got worse as the pain in my arm intensified. After an hour of silent agony Madam Pomfrey checked on me and realized the regrowing process was underway, and immediately fetched me a Dreamless Sleep potion. Knocking back the vials contents ensured a peaceful sleep that wouldn't be interrupted until it left my system.

To my surprise I didn't wake up alone. Sitting on the bed beside me, reading this years Defense textbook, was Severus Snape. "Come to gawk?"

He didn't look up from his book, but I saw his eyebrow twitch. "Not much to gawk at. If anything the sight of your arm is enough to be sick." He set aside the book and waved a hand at a piece of paper on the bedside table. "Imagine my surprise when Dumbledore himself asked me to bring you our classwork."

I slowly sat up, using my right hand since I didn't know if I could use my left, and reached over to grab the sheet of parchment. A list of our classes from the previous day was on it, and beside each class was what we learned, what pages it was on, and what assignment would be due. "Thank you, Severus. I appreciate it." I looked up from the page with furrowed eyebrows. "I suppose Snape would be more appropriate? I'm used to calling people by their first names, but I've been told that's rude."

Severus smirked. "I highly doubt you care about how rude you are." I returned the smirk, because he was right. If anything I used that knowledge to irritate others. "You are welcome to call me Severus."

"Then you are welcome to call me Rosabell, if you're so inclined."

The smirk dimmed. "Perhaps it would be wise to stick with last names, King. You understand, of course."

My lip curled into a sneer, and I had to suppress the urge to give a feline growl. "Better than most. Seems my innate ability to care gets me in more trouble than it's worth."

"You can care," Snape drawled, "just not about Gryffindors. Your friendship with one Marauder in particular doesn't endear you to anyone."

My eyes met his. "I don't know what you mean."

He scoffed and reopened his book. "They've known about Lupin since you sat with him in first-year. You've gotten better at hiding it, but he is rather vocal whenever your name come up. The other gryffindors haven't realized yet because they're buffoons. Since we've known for years it's rather obvious."

My chest rumbled silently from another suppressed growl. "'We' is it? Well, you and all of your acquaintances can rest assured that Lupin and I will no longer be in contact. It seems you can never trust a Gryffindor."

Snape's eyebrows rose deliberately. Whether from actual shock or just for show, I couldn't tell. "Trouble in paradise?"

My stomach clenched just thinking about it. "That's one way to put it." I met his black eyes head on. In the most sincere tone I could muster I said, "Enjoy your time with Evans now, because it won't last much longer."

His expression closed off, leaving his features devoid of all emotion. "The advice is appreciated." He got off of the hospital bed and nodded. "I'll see you in class, King."

I nodded back, and watched him leave the Hospital Wing. His shoulders were back and his head held high, a stance I saw older Slytherins use.

When he admitted to the Slytherins knowing about my friendship with Lupin, I shouldn't have been as shocked as I was. In first-year I didn't know much about subtlety, so it was logical for them to have found out about it and known ever since then. Not that it mattered anymore. The Kitchens was one thing, but telling the Headmaster about my abuse behind my back was an offense I couldn't just get over. No apology could make the situation better. If I was lucky then Dumbledore's actions, whatever they may be, would lessen the number of attacks.

I didn't know what he planned on doing, and I wouldn't find out until the next day when Snape returned with another sheet of parchment. To my surprise, Hilgard got a month of detention working with Professor Kettleburn, taking care of all the creatures we saw in class, and our House had seventy-five points docked.

Snape warned me the House wasn't too happy about the point-loss, since it now put us in third place for the House Cup. As for Hilgard, he was furious about the detentions. There was the possibility of retaliation in the future, but I already assumed that would happen.

"At the rate you're going, you're going to get killed before sixth-year," Snape commented idly while giving me another parchment.

This was my third and last day in the Hospital Wing. Three whole days of me stewing in my own thoughts, plotting different ways to confront Lupin. "Don't worry, Snape." I delicately accepted the parchment. "I'll handle it."