Whatever kind of relationship or friendship Dumbledore and Snape shared seemed to have been utterly destroyed. Snape avoided the Headmaster as much as he could. Even in the morning, while they shared the same breakfast table, Snape would be seen sitting with his seat’s back turned towards the Headmaster, as if his vision would not tolerate the sight of the old man. The students, of course, sensed the change in the school environment and did their best not to the Potions Master.

Snape was a man that refused to show emotion. He found the expression of sentiments highly inappropriate. In extreme cases where he let his deepest and innermost emotions go forth he had found out that they had a nasty result. The man had constructed over the years his own way of thinking and showing emotions. He resolved mostly to play the violin to ease frustration. During the days that followed his argument with the Headmaster the violin was played more hours that it had been played in all of Snape’s life. Swift tones rose like twittering birds and filled the room with melancholic music. Yet not even the violin could provide a solution to Snape’s setback. He could not help his Slytherins no matter how often he played in order to find a solution. All ideas, the few he was able to consider, seemed to reach a dead end.

He stopped, bow remaining in mid-air. That week his Slytherins would conclude their exams and then – Snape closed his eyes and gritted his teeth – he would have to announce that they had to return home for the summer. He let out a heavy sigh and continued his playing.

Little Harry, now age seven, looked at his guardian in sadness. He heard the music and he knew that the man was sad. He opened the door of his bedroom slowly, peeked out and entered to find the man playing the violin, lost in his thoughts. When the music subsided, Harry found the courage to speak.

“Sevvus…”

Sevvus. It was strange really but ‘Sevvus’ never became ‘Severus’ into Harry’s head. The queerest thing was the fact that Snape discovered he did not mind. He did not correct the boy on the change inflicted on his name and clearly showed no annoyance with it. He, a man that could never endure nonsense, discovered that he had a soft spot for that call.

Snape turned to see the boy. For a second he caught himself thinking that the boy looked adorable in his green pyjamas with the yellow snitches. Then he mentally slapped himself and wondered where the Hell that thought came from.

“Sevvus please don’t be sad,” Harry pleaded unhappily.

“Oh Harry, I am not sad…” Snape started to say but he was cut off by the boy’s serious expression.

“Sevvus, it is not good to tell lies,” the boy pointed out. “You play sad music, don’t you?”

The man remembered again the boy’s ability, his musical ear. For a second he could not help but feel embarrassment. He could not even trick a small boy anymore.

“I am sorry lad, I should have… Yes, I am unhappy,” Snape sighed in defeat.

“Why?” Harry asked in concern.

“My Slytherins are in danger and they cannot return home for the summer if they want to remain safe. But there is no place for them to hide.”

“Don’t worry Sevvus, I am sure you’ll think of something,” Harry said with a tone certainty.

Snape seriously believe there was nothing he could think of, or do, that would help the Slytherins. Yet he could not bring himself to say such a thing to the little boy. It was soothing for the man, though he would never admit it out loud, to have someone near him that still believed that everything was going to turn out all right.

“So, let us do some work shall we?” he said, changing the subject conveniently.

-)-)-)

“Bee.”

Harry wrote down the word slowly. He looked at his guardian in expectation. The man continued.

“Orange.”

Harry looked at the ceiling. Then he looked at his parchment. He closed his eyes and finally wrote down the word.

“Finally, newspaper,” Snape said seriously.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. He remembered studying that word. He started writing, stopped in uncertainty and then finished.

“Take a minute to check your writing.”

Harry studied the parchment for some seconds before giving it to his guardian. Snape took his quill and gazed at the words on the parchment.

Bird

Apple

Forest

Hand

Frog

Bee

Milk

Orange

Flower

Newspaper

Snape experienced a great feeling of happiness when he realised the boy had written all the words down correctly. It seemed that the boy was listening to him and was able to perform excellently. He also believed, although he would never admit that in front of the Transfiguration Mistress, that McGonagall was also doing excellently when it came to teaching and checking the boy’s efforts herself.

He took a piece of parchment that lay on his desk. He had asked McGonagall to help the boy choose a picture and glue it on the parchment. Then the boy would attempt to write sentences relevant to the picture he had chosen. He had asked McGonagall to offer help only when the boy had too much trouble. Snape compared the passing of knowledge with eating. It would be of no use if the food was chewed by another before one swallowed it.

The picture on the parchment had a unicorn. Snape started reading the paragraph and correcting it.

‘This is a younicorn. A younicorn is a horse. It has wings. It has a horn. The horse is white. It is pretty. I have a toy. It is a younicorn too. His name is Bibi. I love Bibi. Bibi is soft. It has wing too!’

Snape guessed that McGonagall helped with the essay but he was nevertheless happy with the boy’s progress. He wrote down the correct spelling for the word ‘unicorn’.

“Well done Harry,” he said as the boy stood near him, in expectation. “You wrote the words correctly and your essay has only one mistake. After you write two lines of the word ‘unicorn’ down, you can choose your reward”

Harry beamed, grasped the parchment from the man’s hands enthusiastically and rushed to write the two lines down. Sevvus always gave the best rewards. Better than Miss Corset who gave a toffee to the students that answered everything correctly. In the meantime, Snape started to magically transform the size of furniture inside the room and placed it in his desk’s drawers. By the time Harry had finished writing, Snape had reduced almost all the furniture and the room was empty.

“So lad, what is it going to be this time?” Snape asked, though he had already guessed the answer.

“Helicopter! Helicopter!” Harry cried out full of enthusiasm and jumped up and down.

“So helicopter it will be,” Snape remarked in consent.

Harry backed away from his guardian as much as it was possible. He opened his arms wide, like a bird spreading his wings ready to fly. Then he sprinted towards his guardian. In a swift movement, Snape caught him by the armpits and raised him high, high above his head and started moving. Snape twirled around the room, revolving around his axis and moved in that manner until he got dizzy while Harry’s excited squeals and laughter echoed, Snape thought, throughout the castle.

-)-)-)

The two days passed fairly quickly and it was Thursday, the day for the Potions N.E.W.T and the meeting with Leanne had arrived. The Potions Master woke up early and dressed in almost the same agitation his students had. He made sure that his working robes were crisply clean, left Harry with Madame Pomfrey and hurried to the Professors’ Common Room, where the Potions examiners would arrive and meet him, as was customary on these occasions.

He sat down in his armchair but quickly changed his mind, as his feet seemed to have taken control over him, and started pacing inside the room. It was exactly nine o’ clock when the examiners started to enter the room. The first that entered was a short, stout man with a beard that went down past his feet and swept the floor with each of the man’s steps.

“Mr. Brownstacklem,” Snape bowing slightly, “It is such a pleasure to meet you again sir. I was not informed that you joined the examiners’ group. I must admit it is a pleasant surprise,” he added with a soft smile and extended his hand.

“Severus Snape,” Mr Brownstacklem exclaimed with a voice which reminded Snape of a bleating lamb, full of satisfaction. “It has been long since I last saw you. It is six years, isn’t it? I have read your research on why we should use trimmed unicorn hair over pulled unicorn hair. You gave some of these stubborn old coots a lesson, my boy. Congratulations.”

Snape nodded and turned his attention to the other examiner that entered. She was a tall woman, almost as tall as him, with short spiky hair and a pair of rectangular gold glasses. She was close to his age and responded to his stare with a nod.

“Matilda,” he said shaking her hand. “So good to see you. How is Larry? After the exam you must tell me how your research in Northern Bulgaria went. I cannot believe you are an examiner this year, such a splendid surprise!”

“I am afraid I am here only for the written exam,” she stated sadly. “My daughter, Kimmy, is sick at home and I will return there after the exam.”

“Sorry to hear that Matilda.”

The third of the party joined slowly. It was a miniscule old woman, probably twenty years older than McGonagall, who moved slowly with the aid of a walking stick. Snape hurried to her.

“Madame Foster it is such a pleasure,” he took her hand and kissed it.

Madame Foster giggled and patted Snape’s hand.

“Oh Severus, it is so good to know young gentlemen such as you exist even in these modern wild times! How is Professor Dumbledore? He used to be my Transfiguration tutor when he was your age. I still haven’t had the pleasure of seeing him. It has been so long,” she chattered.

“I am sure he will arrive soon Madame,” Snape stated, trying to suppress his grim voice. “Ah, speaking of him here he is!”

Dumbledore entered the room. His eyes stopped at Snape, who returned the look coldly. The older man continued staring at the young man, who then turned to the examiners.

“Honourable examiners, as the Headmaster has arrived I must follow the protocol and allow you to discuss. I hope the exam results will satisfy you. Farewell,” he concluded with a bow. He opened the door and left the room.

-)-)-)

Snape found himself in front of the exam classroom. He stood impatiently on one leg and then moved to the nearest turn in the corridor and hid in the shadows. He stood there not knowing what he really awaited. It was strange to him, and secret to his students, but during his teaching career he had developed the queer habit of watching the N.E.W.T. examination room until the exams start. He could never define the anxiety he felt when this day came.

He watched as the students started to slowly enter the room. First some Ravenclaws entered, and then came Granger: dragging Weasley and scolding him for making her late. Shortly afterwards came Pansy, Draco and Blaise. More and more students arrived and Snape found himself staring at the door intensely, almost agitated. He hoped all of the students would arrive on time.

“Severus,” a soft voice startled him, making him jump high from shock. He whirled around.

“Minerva, you scared the frogspawn out of me!” he hissed, cursing the Transfiguration professor’s tendency to walk soundlessly behind others.

“Can I have a word with you?” she asked, sounding almost stern.

Snape could only follow her. It was amazing, but when the woman had that expression he would forget that he was in his mid thirties and not a child. They sat down in her office; and it was ironic as Snape found himself sitting on the same chair where he sat when she reprimanded him as a teenager.

“I wish you would tell me what could cause such damage between you and Dumbledore,” she asked in concern, “It pains me to see you like this.”

“Minerva,” Snape started with a huff, “the Headmaster and I – we had an argument I do not wish to discuss.”

“Oh Severus, why do you two have to be so bloody secretive on that matter,” McGonagall scoffed. “The argument is…”

“Minerva, do not worry about it. It is of no importance,” Snape lied, interrupted her. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to prepare for my little transaction in Hogsmeade,” he concluded and stood up.

“Severus…”

Snape turned to look at her. McGonagall’s expression showed that she wished to say something but she weighed her options carefully.

“Never mind,” she said tiredly, “Do get to your business.”

-)-)-)

It was three o’ clock in the afternoon and Snape sat at Hogsmeade’s lake trying to cool off. It was a hot day for the area’s standards, and he sat down on the hard pebbly ground waiting for Leanne to arrive. He admitted to himself he was nervous because however hard he tried, he could never control himself around a Veela. Every time he met a Veela he felt his hormones raging, and he started thinking of things he had not thought of since he was a teenager. He always vowed to himself to control his thoughts, and he always failed.

“Harry, stay there where I can see you,” he called as the boy played near the lake. The boy had to accompany him that afternoon as Madam Pomfrey had other business to attend to. Snape passed through Hogsmade around midday, when almost all had retired inside to cool off from the unbearable heat. He felt lucky that they passed unnoticed, or so he believed.

Harry smiled and moved closer to his guardian.

It was then that Leanne arrived. She wore her white tribal robes and carried a small sack with her. Snape blushed. In addition to her Veela magical beauty, Leanne had also an additional distraction in the area under her neck. It was that which caused Snape much discomfort. When she was near him, he would think of those two things the whole time. He stood up.

“Mr. Snape,” the Veela said happily. “It is so nice to see you again.”

Snape bowed and took her hand to kiss it. He raised his eyes and tried to ignore her torso, unsuccessfully.

“Is that your son?” she asked, noticing the boy with interest. “Mr Snape?” she asked when she received no answer.

Snape’s head shot up, and he tried to control his blush. He felt like a child caught stealing marmalade from the top shelf.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The boy,” she emphasised, not noticing the man’s behaviour.

“Oh – he is – my nephew,” he lied. “My cousin is an examiner – and today – we –Hogwarts has exams and he came – and I brought him here for a walk.”

“Ah I hope I did not cost you two your lunch Mr. Snape,” she commented apologetically for the earliness of their meeting. “Did you have anything to eat?” she asked, leaning closer to the man.

“Boobies – COOKIES! Cookies – and – and milk!”

Snape flashed red and mentally slapped himself over and over again.

“I cannot believe what you just said,” he scolded himself. “Now concentrate and do not act like a buffoon.”

Leanne giggled, much to Snape’s relief.

“Let us return to business Mr. Snape, shall we?” she smiled and retrieved four small glass vials out of the sack she carried. Through the transparent glass, a liquid like water shone. Snape raised the vial and to his satisfaction the colour of the liquid at the bottom changed to red. As the vial moved upwards the red changed to orange, then yellow and finally green. He then lowered it to his eye-level and the liquid became transparent again. He proceeded by checking all four of the vials and then opened the small sack he had carried with him.

Leanne let out an “ahh…” of satisfaction as he spread on the ground jars full of creams; some labelled for hair, others for skin and other for face care. She opened the jars and felt the contents before nodding in agreement.

“Excellent merchandise as always,” she approved. “I hope to meet you again. It is always a pleasure for us to work with you,” she smiled to Snape’s embarrassment.

She stood up, Snape followed. He bowed once again, kissed her hand and watched her disappear into the woods from where she had appeared.

Snape remained gazing at the forest for a few seconds. He then turned to the lake. The water was tranquil but it seemed something was amiss. He could not define what was wrong until it struck him. Harry! He was missing!

“Harry!” he barked, only to receive no answer. “Harry!”

Snape could not identify the reason, but he felt a long sharp stab inside his chest. Worry coloured his features and he started marching into the woods, looking for the boy.

-)-)-)

Harry watched the blond pretty woman with Sevvus. He was bored but he knew Sevvus was working and his uncle hated it when he was around visitors. So he waited, he watched and talked to Bibi. Suddenly a little bird landed near his feet. Harry smiled as the bird flapped around; pecking the crumbs from the cookies he had eaten. He stood up to follow it and the little bird rose high and landed a few steps away. He let out a soft giggle and followed it. The bird flapped and Harry followed.

Suddenly Harry stopped. He looked around. There were trees everywhere so he must have entered the forest. He clutched Bibi to his chest.

“Don’t worry Bibi,” he assured the unicorn. “I will find Sevvus, I will protect you.”

He walked around carefully. Some twigs broke under his soles, making him cringe. He tried to remain calm. Sevvus had said that Hogsmeade was full of magic people, so he would find a grown-up and ask him to take him back to Hogwarts. That would work.

“It is all right Bibi, I know what to do,” he told his stuff toy and walked slowly.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived was by anyone’s terms a very lucky boy, or so he thought at this moment, because he emerged out of the forest to find himself at the lake once more. He looked around but Sevvus was nowhere to be seen.

“Sevvus,” he mumbled and sat down, on the grass, hoping the man would return.

It must have been ten minutes later when little Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He let out a scream and turned around. Green eyes stared at a face. There was a man, with long black hair tied in a ponytail, two icy-grey eyes that reminded him of cold granite and a smirk that send a shiver down his spine. He looked at him, transfixed for some seconds and then he remembered. A man with red eyes sitting on a chair. A man wearing a mask kneeling next to him. The mean man smiled in satisfaction and removed the mask. Grey eyes met the red eyes.

Harry screamed while the man grabbed him from the waist.

-)-)-)

Snape walked in the forest in desperation. He wished, first of all, for that weird pang in his chest to stop. He also wished to find the boy unharmed. He felt angry beyond belief, especially with himself for letting the boy out of his sight. He promised to himself that he would give the boy a whole year of detention when he turned back into a sixteen year old. And a good spanking as well. For a second the thought of him spanking the teenage Potter amused him. And then he heard the scream of a child.

Snape never knew he could run so fast in his life. He stopped and hid behind a tree, observing the lake carefully. He saw a man, with long black hair fighting to hold Harry still. He froze to the spot as Harry cried and yelled for him.

“Shut up you brat!” the man shouted. He raised his hand and landed it on the boy’s face. The boy stopped from shock and fear and then kicked the man hard on his knee. The man cried out and let the boy go, who sprinted away, letting out a growl.

Snape saw red when the man hit Harry and did the one thing he never dreamt he would do. Instead of using his wand to hex the man to oblivion, he ran to the lake, grabbed the man and shoved him to the ground. He seized the man’s grey robes and was about to punch him in the face when he heard the man chuckling.

“Snape, you filthy traitor.”

Snape’s hand stopped in mid-air. His eyes bulged from shock and he muttered.

“You, no, it cannot be. You are dead.”

The hook-nosed man’s surprise halted as the man laughed horribly and punched him hard in the stomach. Snape doubled over from the pain and rolled on the ground.

“I am alive Severus, and kicking,” the man laughed horribly and kicked Snape over and over in the ribs.

Snape knew the man that was now savagely kicking him. He was the most dangerous follower of the Dark Lord, after Bellatrix Lestrange that is. Jackomo Rancid was a lunatic. He enjoyed the pain of others, even of his fellow Death Eaters. When Snape had joined the Death Eaters, his father had insisted on him training with Jackomo. He said that Jackomo was the kind of man that would help his young son to overcome all kinds of hesitation. And it was true, for when training with Jackomo he had to fight for his life. Jackomo did not only use his wand but his physical strength as well. Snape always knew when to stop, but Jackomo was the kind of person that did not. He knew, Snape knew, that if it wasn’t for the Dark Lord calling for Jackomo to stop, he would have died a long time ago during their ‘training’. Yes, Jackomo was ruthless. Aurors said he fell off a cliff, after he was seriously injured by them, a week before the Dark Lord’s downfall. His body was never found and he was never heard of again. Snape was true to himself. He never thought that the murderer’s death was a loss.

Snape’s ribs made a horrible noise as the man threw another kick and knelt near the body. Snape coughed and spat blood.

“Imagine my surprise to learn you are teaching at Hogwarts. Imagine my greater surprise when I see you today, marching through Hogsmeade with that – AAAARRGGHH!”

Jackomo screamed as little Harry landed on his back and bit his right shoulder so hard it started bleeding.

“FILTHY BRAT!” he screamed angrily and fought to throw the boy off him.

Snape did the only thing he could think of at that moment. He grabbed Jackomo’s front robes as if his whole life depended on it and threw a header on the man’s face, low at his mouth.

“RUN HARRY! GO TO HOGSMEADE AND ASK FOR HELP!” Snape ordered and heard the boy’s feet moving away in quick footsteps.

Jackomo spat blood and a tooth from his mouth. His chin dripped with slobber and his eyes still shone maliciously.

“Snape, Snape, you will never learn,” he shook his head. “You were nothing compared to me.”

The man seized Snape by the front of his robes and slammed his head to the ground. Snape felt his head zooming and the unbearable pain as his head hit the rocky soil. He knew one thing. Harry’s safe return to Hogsmeade was a priority. He had to give him time to do so. Therefore he grabbed Jackomo’s robes as if the whole universe would collapse if he let them go.

“I Was the Strongest One – THUD – I Was The Most Loyal Of All – THUD – And I Am Going To Be The One To Kill You, You Traitorous Slug – THUD – And then, then, I will kill that precious hero of yours.”

THUD! Snape’s face paled as he heard a horrible cracking sound inside his head. The pain became unbearable. He wanted to cry. He wished to die, he wanted to beg for death to come, but he wouldn’t. He knew it was only a few minutes since Harry had left and he had to keep himself going for a few more minutes in order for Harry to reach Hogsmeade.

“How many more can you stand Snape? Jackomo snickered, holding the man’s head high up. “Three? Two? One?”

To Snape’s relief, Jackomo let out a scream and fell on top of him, unconscious. Snape’s head landed on the ground with a last ‘thud’. He felt dizzy and tired, tired beyond belief. Everything was blurry, his eyes were wet.

“Snape release yourself from that beast,” he heard a barking voice from above. He saw a blurry image above him and felt the body of Jackomo raised from him. Snape panicked.

“Harry, I must allow Harry more time,” he thought. His mouth was filled with saliva and blood. He held the man as he let some slobber fall, but he did not release the robes from his clutch.

“Snape, let go,” a soft male voice echoed in his head and he felt fingers trying to disentangle his hands from the robes. “It is I, Lupin. And the other man talking to you is Moody.”

“Ha-,” he coughed. His throat felt hoarse, as if he had been screaming non-stop for hours. “Harry.”

“He is alright. He is at Hogwarts with Tonks,” Lupin assured him.

Snape felt calm. Harry was alright. There was nothing to worry about. The pain in his head made him feel numb. He closed his eyes and knew no more.