After what seemed like minutes, Harry heard someone shout his name.

Snape.

It didn't take long to remember what had happened prior to his sleep. And where he was. He still hadn't been able to think for one minute.

You don't ever think, Potter.

Harry tried to forget what Snape had said to him. The more he tried, the louder he could hear the poisonous words and the cutting voice.

How many people have to die before Harry Potter first thinks and then acts?

Harry wondered that himself. He couldn't even help but agree with some of it.

"POTTER! Open that door right now!"

That was the last thing he wanted to do, so he just ignored the man. He didn't even bother to say anything.

With a loud BANG, Snape kicked the door in. It didn't seem to have taken him any effort.

Aren't we dramatic today, Harry thought bitterly. He looked out the window. The sun was going down. He must have slept for at least an hour.

The Potions Master's wand was raised against him, but Harry was quite sure that he wouldn't use it. Every spell cast in here, every bit of accidental magic even, seemed to attack the magical core. However, Harry felt that he had somehow recovered during his sleep. It just felt the way it always did. However... it felt wrong to do magic in here. Dangerous. And Harry was someone who trusted his instincts. There weren't many things he could rely on these days.

Harry stood up. It was never good to sit while Snape stood. The man was just too intimidating that way.

The greasy bat didn't take his eyes off him. He scrutinised the black-eye, his clothes, everything. Even the scrawny arms that were sticking out the jumper which was too short and too wide at the same time. It was Dudley's years ago.

Many years ago.

"So...," he drawled. "You will answer a few questions now, Potter. And you will stick to the truth. For a change."

Harry frowned. He was absolutely sure that this wasn't going to be pleasant. Nothing that happened in Snape's presence was pleasant.

Harry didn't answer, but glared at him instead. The silence seemed to make him angry, so Harry murmured something.

"Did the message arrive in that thick skull of yours?"

"Mhm."

Snape groaned impatiently. "Yes, Sir. Is it too much too ask for some respect?"

"Yes sir. It is indeed." Harry didn't mean to talk back like that but Merlin, did the man know how to press his buttons.

"How did you sustain those injuries?"

Silence. Harry hadn't expected that question. Of course he would not answer it. Give Snape ammunition to bully him?

"Answer. Now. Or we are going to have a problem."

A bitter laugh escaped Harry's throat. How could the situation be any worse?

"You can't force me to do anything."

Snape's breath escaped with a hissing noise. He leaned against a wall and folded his arms. Harry dropped the gaze and stared at the floor.

"Severus..." It was that voice again. The boy's head shot up and he regarded Snape who remained expressionless.

"Who is that?" Harry asked, forgetting that he was still holding a major grudge.

"None of your business Potter. Keep out."

"Fine. Just leave me alone. I am not answering anything."

The man made no attempt to go. Instead, he just stood there. Calm. Too calm, for Harry's taste. He had never met anyone so unpredictable. His temper. Even his loyalties. Everything but the black clothes and greasy hair was erratic. Oh, there was another constant. Foulness. How could his mum have been friends with Snape? Or did he just turn that way after her death?

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. How much did he wish that the man would just leave? For some reason, he also wished that Snape was on Voldemort's side. Then Harry would be the good guy who hadn't done anything wrong. It would have been easier that way. Instead, he found himself in a disgustingly complicated situation. Unable to cooperate with his only ally. The ally who was responsible for his parent's death.

"Severus... please," the female voice pleaded. It didn't sound alive. More like a ghost or something.

Again, the man showed no reaction.

"How many people are haunting you, Professor?"

The fury returned to the obsidian eyes.

Why could he never keep his mouth shut? Had Snape been right all along when he compared him to his dad? Did sons turn into their fathers? It was ironic, really. In one of the occlumency lessons, Harry had seen Snape's father. A dire man. Violent, by the looks of it.

"It has always amazed me just how much you resemble your filthy father."

"As much as you resemble yours?"

This time, Harry had actually managed to provoke Snape into planting a punch on his chin. The last thing he heard was a whooshing sound and he was on the ground. Seeing stars. He expected the usual kicking, so he rolled over and protected his head with his arms.

Nothing happened. He gawped at Snape, still dumbstruck. His chin swelled up at an alarming speed. The Potions Master was not only as shocked as Harry... he also seemed to be in a lot pain all of a sudden. Harry remembered seeing Snape like that right after he had killed Dumbledore. When Harry called him a coward. If he did that here, he'd be dead. No doubt.

"Damn it Potter!"

Harry managed to scramble to his feet. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Fight back? No. He had deserved this. Of course he wouldn't admit it though. Apologise to Snape? Not. Ever.

A throbbing pain emerged from his chin. Harry tried to feel if it was broken. When he looked up, the man was gone.