Harry took a deep breath, turned the door handle, and immediately wished that he had not bothered getting up that morning. A silky voice greeted them. “Potter, Granger...I should have known,” Snape sneered. “Only you two would have the gall to arrive late on the first day of class,” he said acidly. “Well...you will both turn around and take yourself back out the door.”

“But sir!” Hermione sputtered.

Harry gaped at him. Hatred welled up inside of him, and he clenched his fists. What a bastard Snape is, he thought. Why the hell didn't I just leave him dead? Harry thought furiously. How could this man be my father? He asked himself for the hundredth time.

“Silence!” Snape bellowed. His eyes flashed dangerously, and he fixed them with his cold black eyes. “You. Will. Leave. Now! Twenty-five points each from Gryffindor for your colossal lack of respect, and unless you are on time tomorrow,” Snape said as he moved a little closer to them, and leaned forward malevolently, “Do not bother to show up.”

Harry gritted his teeth, and grabbed Hermione roughly by the arm. He pulled her out the door and dragged her half-way down the corridor, stomping his feet angrily all the way.

"Harry, stop...please...you're hurting my arm," she said crossly. "What on earth is wrong with you ? I know that you're mad, but-"

Harry stopped abruptly and let go of Hermione's arm as though it were a hot coal.

"Uh...oh...sorry," Harry muttered apologetically. "I just can't believe that git," Harry fumed.

"Not that I don't think that Snape was rather harsh, but I guess I can sort of understand his anger at us being late on the first day of class. You know how strict he's always been about being on time. He takes it as a sign of disrespect." She glared at Harry. "Why were you so late? What did you talk to McGonagall about for so long?" Hermione asked curiously, tempering her anger somewhat.

"Well no one asked you to wait for me you know,” Harry said instead of answering. I'm perfectly capable of finding my way down to the dungeons on my own. I've been doing it for six bloody years!"

Hermione looked at him with a mixture of shock and hurt. "I know that you're going through a rough time Harry, but that doesn't give you the right to snap at me, or practically pull my damned arm out of its socket for Merlin's sake," she countered irately. "You have been very moody these past few days, and while you have the right to be upset, I'm not going to stand here and let you take it out on me. I've tried to be understanding and show you that I'm here for you, but-"

Harry hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry Hermione," he said quietly. Hermione was right; he had been short with his friends lately, but he just felt so out of control ever since the confrontation with Snape. His mood swings were beginning to get out of hand, as well. One minute he felt on top of the world that he had survived his encounter with Voldemort and that he had come out unscathed... physically at least, and the next moment, he was consumed with inexplicable waves of resentment and rage.

"You're right, I shouldn't take out my frustrations with Snape on you," he admitted ashamedly. "I know that we were late but c'mon Hermione, the git could have just taken a few points off. But no, he took twenty-five a piece off Gryffindor. That's fifty bloody points!"

"I can count Harry," Hermione pointed out quietly; she was watching Harry in concern..

"And he threw us out and made us look like bloody fools in front of the whole class!" Harry ranted. Again, Harry could feel reason begin to slip out of his control and a rage beneath the surface which threatened to erupt at any minute.

“Yeah well...he did rather overreact, didn't he?” Hermione admitted.

“You're damned right he did and only because he's mad at me for bringing him back from the Veil. He's an ungrateful bastard and now that he's Deputy Headmaster, he's going to make my life a living hell. That's what I was talking to McGonagall about...that's why I was late. I was trying to find out what on earth she was thinking by giving Snape so much power.” Harry’s face twisted in disgust. “She wouldn't even listen to me. I don't understand her reasoning. She knows how many times that Snape took unfair points off of Gryffindor, or how many times that he's assigned detentions for no reason. Why would she give him even more control, when he's only going to abuse it?”

“I imagine that McGonagall wanted to give Snape a show of support to prove to the Ministry that she believed in and trusted him,” Hermione said wisely.

“Yeah well, I'm sure that she could have found another way to show her appreciation...like giving him a medal or something. But no, she has to make him Deputy Headmaster so he has even more power to torture any student not from Slytherin,” Harry griped.

“Well, there's not much you can do about it Harry, and I suggest that you don’t approach McGonagall again,” Hermione advised sternly. “It doesn't sound much like she appreciated you questioning her judgement.”

“What just happened in Potions with Snape proves that he shouldn't have been given so much authority in the first place,” Harry argued. “McGonagall had to know that it would go to his head.”

“I think that now you're the one overreacting,” Hermione said with worry. “I really think that you should let it go Harry, and trust that McGonagall knows what she's doing.” Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that the Headmistress had a good reason for showing so much blind faith in Snape, and as Hermione trusted her Head of House implicitly, she tried to convince Harry to do the same.

“Oh just forget it. I should have known that you wouldn't understand. How could you? It's not you that Snape has been harassing for the past six years for supposedly being the son of his enemy, is it? It's not you who had your own father spit in your face, discard you like rubbish and tell you he doesn't want anything to do with you.” Harry's voice rose shrilly, and he could feel his pulse quickening. But he just couldn't stop himself. “After all, why would you care? You've got two parents who would do anything for you! Well, you can just save your Snape-worshipping for someone who wants to listen!”

Hermione stared at him in shock. Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away furiously. “I can't believe that you could say something so horribly cruel Harry,” she said. I don't know what's going on with you, but you'd better get some help...and quickly. I thought that you were my friend. After all that we've been through...I can't understand how you could believe that I would take Snape's side over yours. I'm just trying to point out that maybe things aren't as bad as you think they are and that you should just calm down a bit and think things through clearly, that's all I'm saying.”

“Oh...so now you're trying to say that I'm mental too?” Harry asked heatedly.

“No, of course not!” Hermione said vehemently. “You're being unreasonable! I just meant-”

“Forget it, I don't need this right now! I'm going to the Common room, to calm down,” he said mockingly. “I'll see you in Transfiguration later....maybe…” Harry stomped away furiously, his words trailing off.

Hermione stared after him. Her stomach was twisted in knots, and her head was spinning. She was starting to get a very bad feeling as she watched Harry storm away.

--

Harry threw himself on his bed dejectedly. Now that his anger was beginning to recede somewhat, he was overwhelmed with guilt at how he had treated Hermione. What the hell was wrong with him these days? He had never felt so confused and or so angry..

They are all conspiring against you...they want you to fail.

Harry jolted up from his bed. Where the hell did that thought come from? he thought frenziedly. He wiped his sweaty brow, and rubbed his tired eyes. I'm not getting enough sleep; that's the problem, he consoled himself. Since the confrontation with Snape, his sleep had been riddled with nightmares, and he would wake up sweating and trembling uncontrollably.

Maybe Hermione has a point, Harry thought...panic-stricken. Maybe, I am mental! Okay, Harry, get a hold of yourself, it's normal to be a bit barmy after all I've been through. Maybe if I tell myself that enough, I'll believe it, he thought acerbically.

Harry snuck a look at his watch, which was the one throwback from his Muggle upbringing that he had refused to relinquish. He just could not get accustomed to measuring time the Wizarding way. Harry groaned; it was time to make his way down to Transfiguration, and his reluctance to attend class was two-fold. He was not particularly pleased with McGonagall at the moment, and he was not anxious to have to face Hermione after his behaviour earlier. He would have to grovel at her feet and beg her forgiveness for having acted like a complete arse.

Harry drew in a deep breath and searched down deep for what remained of his Gryffindor courage. Although in his own humble opinion, he was acting more like a cross between a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin. Dark thoughts mingled with the emotional roller coaster that he'd been riding, had Harry questioning his sanity and his identity alike. Harry dragged his feet slowly, as though he could suspend time in doing so.

Enough of that, he told himself sternly and tried to force his feet to comply with the command to move forward. That's it...now… If only the rest of his body would follow suit.

As Harry descended the staircase, he noticed that Ron and Hermione were whispering to each other. They ceased abruptly when they noticed Harry advancing towards them. Harry bit his lip in vexation, but told himself firmly that he deserved Hermione's wrath for his shameful actions earlier.

Harry approached the couple slowly, and said hesitatingly, "Uh....hi guys. Uh...Hermione...uh, I'm...sorry for the way I acted earlier. I know it’s not an excuse," Harry offered sheepishly, "but I don't know what's wrong with me lately. Maybe you're right...maybe I'm not right in the head." Harry chewed on his lip worriedly.

Hermione touched Harry's shoulder lightly. "You've been through a lot. It's understandable that you'd be a little confused and angry. I just think that you really need to talk to someone." She looked at Harry hesitatingly, and braced herself for an explosion. "What about McGonagall? She seems to know what's going on. Does she know that Snape is your father?"

"Yeah, she does." Harry gnashed his teeth, and clenched his fists. "And she knows that he's being a real berk towards me too, and she still insists on throwing us together! I don't know what she thinks she's going to accomplish...but I tell you, if she thinks that Snape and I are going to reconcile and have this wonderful father and son relationship, then she's the one that's delusional," he said bitterly.

Ron snickered, "Yeah, Snape's not exactly the cuddly type, is he?"

“More like the prickly type,” Harry agreed.

“If you two are quite finished ,” Hermione said as she crossed her arms and glared at the pair sternly, “we had better be going. We can't afford to lose anymore points.”

Harry groaned. “Yeah...just wait till McGonagall realises that we've already lost fifty points for Gryffindor.”

“Yeah, and on the first day of class too,” Ron chuckled.

Ron almost turned into an icicle at the frosty stares he received from Harry and Hermione.

Ron held up his hands. “Whoa...lighten up you two. It was just a joke.”

Harry pursed his lips, and glared at Ron. “I'm not exactly in a joking mood right now Ron.”

Ron gave up his attempt to lighten the mood. “Right...let's be going then.”

----

They had barely found their seats, when the magical chimes signalled the beginning of class, and with a swish of her wand McGonagall slammed the door shut.

McGonagall directed an annoyed glance at Ron, Harry and Hermione. Her face was pinched in displeasure, and she narrowed her eyes at the trio. “In the future, ladies and gentlemen, I expect you all to allocate yourself sufficient time to find your seats and prepare for class, and not to slip in the door at the last moment.”

Harry felt his face heat up with embarrassment, at the reprimand but was grateful that McGonagall had at least not taken off anymore points from Gryffindor. He was beginning to feel ganged up on by Snape and McGonagall.

“Now…if we are quite finished with all the interruptions,” she stressed as the whispering and chattering slowly died down. She again narrowed her eyes, and directed a stern glance at the trio. “As I was saying in the welcoming speech, we will devote the next several weeks to reviewing the material which was covered before the Final Battle, and subsequent closure of the Castle for renovations. We will proceed at an accelerated pace. However, I’m sure as seventh year students, you will appreciate the necessity of working diligently to bring you up to the necessary level of competency to successfully master your Newts. I expect a certain level of dedication and maturity from all of you, and I won’t tolerate any slacking, so if you expect to slide by here, then I suggest you switch to Divination. I’m sure that Professor Trelawney has available space in her class.

Parvati and Lavender huffed in indignation at McGonagall’s barb towards Trelawney. Harry couldn’t help thinking again that although in many ways Trelawney was a fraud, she had been chillingly accurate with her predictions on at least two occasions. First there was her vision about Wormtail having betrayed his mother and fa-uh-James, and the next was the prophecy concerning himself and Voldemort…neither living if the other one did.

Harry was startled out of his reverie, by McGonagall’s next proclamation.

“Now…I’ve also reviewed the curriculum that I had planned on following, and I’ve made a few adjustments that I’m confident you’ll be pleased with. In the past, many students have expressed interest in becoming Animagi, so I’ve received permission from the Ministry to instruct those who are interested, and when you feel that you are prepared, the Ministry will send a representative to Hogwarts to administer the license exam.”

There were, of course, many murmurs of approval and delight at this announcement. Once the hubbub died down, McGonagall continued. “In addition, we will be studying the more complex issues of transfiguration…such as what sort of molecular structures lend themselves well to transfiguration, and what others…such as metal or steel, could be problematic should the correct incantation, or proper wand movement not be implemented. For now though, we will begin with reviewing the material covered at the beginning of the term, for the benefit of those who were not present.”

Pansy Parkinson glared nastily at Harry, Ron and Hermione. “But Professor,” she whined, “why should we all have to sit through a lecture on material that we’ve already learnt, when only a few of us weren’t here? Why don’t you just give them extra work and make them catch up?” Pansy grumbled.

“Miss Parkinson!” McGonagall reprimanded sharply, “Mr. Potter and the others have put their lives on the line, and sacrificed their time, so that Mr. Potter could defeat one of the most evil wizards of our time, so I think that we can take the time to help him and the others so that they will be at the same level as their classmates. It's the least we can do for them after they have given us the gift of our freedom. Don't forget, as well, Miss Parkinson, that there are many Slytherins who were not able to attend Hogwarts at the beginning of term, for various reasons."

There were actually numerous students from all four Houses who had been unable to attend Hogwarts because they were Muggleborn, or whose families were considered blood traitors, like the Weasleys.

By the end of class, Harry felt that his overloaded brain wouldn't allow him to process any more information; he was exhausted. Harry wasn't quite sure how he would manage to endure the full schedule of classes ahead of him. He breathed a sigh of relief when the chimes rang again, and he yanked his book bag, and jumped up from his seat. He decided on the spur of the moment, against his better judgement, to speak to McGonagall again about Snape’s behaviour earlier. Harry turned to Hermione and Ron hesitatingly and waved for them to go ahead.

"Harry! What are you going to do? Tell me you are not going to speak to McGonagall about Snape?” she whispered, glaring angrily at him; her eyes narrow slits.

"Just go Hermione!" Harry reiterated forcefully.

Ron intervened and yanked Hermione's arm and led her towards the door, whilst she protested vigorously. "See you in Charms mate," Ron said with a wink.

“Professor McGonagall, can I speak to you please?” Harry forced his voice to remain calm and controlled.

McGonagall sighed, and narrowed her eyes sternly at Harry. “Mr. Potter, what can I do for you now? I am quite confident that you are not intending to complain yet again about your father's appointment as my Deputy Headmaster,” she said, sarcasm lacing her tone.

“I'm not questioning your judgement or anything Professor, but-” Harry began slowly.

McGonagall raised her eyebrows and directed a disbelieving look at Harry.

“No...really Professor!” Harry protested. “It's just that, uh...” Ooh, this was going to be painful he thought. He didn't relish relating to McGonagall just what had transpired in Potions with Snape. He knew that he would be reprimanded for not having obeyed her instructions in proceeding to Snape's class immediately when she had told him to.

“Mr. Potter, you are going to be late for class yet again if you don't spit the words out!”

Harry's jaw dropped in surprise. He wondered if Snape hadn't already gone to McGonagall to complain about him, and recounted his version of the truth. Well, he thought angrily, I’m going to tell McGonagall my side of the story.

“Professor...” Harry said quickly, “…I don't know what Snape told you, but we were only a few minutes late for his class, and then he goes all crazy and takes twenty-five points off each of us, and then he threw us out of class,” he said, the words tumbling out.

McGonagall pursed her lips in disapproval. “So you think that it was acceptable for you to arrive late for his class and now you expect me to intervene on your behalf...do you Mr. Potter?

“No! You don't understand Professor,” Harry denied vehemently.

McGonagall held up her hand. “No! I think that it is you who doesn't understand Mr. Potter. I clearly remember warning you to stop talking and get to class. Professor Snape had every right to take points off for arriving late to class,” she admonished sternly.

“Yes... but he threw us out!”

“Mr. Potter! You are about to be late for your next class as well... now leave.” She pointed towards the door. Softening her tone when she realised how harsh she had been, she said gently, “Mr. Potter, as I said before...give your father a chance. I know that he can be rather...uh....difficult, shall we say, but he is a good man.” Harry snorted and looked at McGonalgall sceptically. “You just have to be patient. Now. Get. To. Class,” she said firmly.

“Yes M'am,” Harry mumbled.

--

McGonagall noticed that Severus slipped out inconspicuously before lunch was finished and discretely followed him to his office. She waited several minutes and knocked lightly on the door.

“Enter,” a deep voice answered, muffled by the door.

McGonagall hesitated, and slowly opened the door. Severus was seated behind his desk marking assignments. He lifted his head, and looked expectantly at McGonagall.

“Severus...” she greeted him cautiously.

“Minerva,” he drawled, “to what do I owe this honour? Shall I guess?” He tapped his index finger on his temple. “Potter didn't waste any time running to you to complain about his unfair treatment, did he Minerva? “

“Severus, you were a little harsh with him, don't you think? He is your son, and--”

“Oh, so he thinks that just because he's my son that he can waltz into class almost one half hour late? He's obviously just as arrogant as he always was. Believing that he's above the rules, and expecting to fly by the seat of his fame.” Snape was fuming. How dare the brat go running to his Head of house like a spoiled child to complain because he was quite justifiably reprimanded for arriving late on the first day of class?

McGonagall's eyes widened in surprise. She had not realised that Harry was so late to class. She had assumed that he was only five or ten minutes late. Harry, of course, had glossed over the truth to reflect badly on Severus.

McGonagall's face flushed in embarrassment. “I'm sorry Severus, I hadn't realised that he was so late, I-”

“We need to clarify a few things Minerva,” Severus began coldly. “If you wish for me to continue as your Deputy Headmaster, you must give me your assurance that you will not undermine my authority at every turn. I will rescind my acceptance of the position if you persist in questioning my methods of discipline and do not trust my judgement. I had assumed that when you offered me the position, that you had placed a certain amount of faith in me. Correct me if I'm wrong.” Severus crossed his arms, and waited impatiently for an answer.

Minerva looked at Severus apologetically. “You're right Severus, and please accept my apologies.”

“Very well Minerva, but I will not tolerate this sort of interference again. Make it clear to Potter that he will receive no special treatment from me, and that you will not continually attempt to shield him from the consequences of his actions.” Severus hardened his expression. “I have always gotten the impression Minerva that you were not always pleased with Albus' decisions concerning Potter over the years.”

Minerva looked at Severus sadly. “No,you are right about that Severus. Albus meant well, but...he placed the boy in situations that the child simply wasn't mature enough to handle. Goodness knows that Harry has always been blessed with incredible courage and blind-luck.” Minerva had always tried to convince Albus that the boy needed to be treated like a child, not an adult. Harry had deserved so much more, and it seemed that all the adults in his life had failed him. Minerva knew that she should have been more adamant in protecting him from the horrors that the boy had experienced in his young life.

Ironically... Severus had been the only one who who had seen that Harry should have been made to adhere to the rules, not constantly encouraged him to break them, as had done consistently. True... Severus' methods were cruel and vindictive and his protestations of Harry being allowed too much licence by Albus and the rest of the Wizarding world, were not motivated by care for the boy's well-being, but nevertheless...he was right that Harry should not have been treated like a celebrity, but as boy who deserved a childhood.

When Minerva thought of all the times that the boy could have died, she shuddered. If she had been Headmistress at the time, Harry would never have been allowed possession of the invisibility cloak. Minerva would never have given him...a mere child of thirteen, a Time-turner to wander the woods in the dead of night, with a convicted murderer and a werewolf on the loose. She had failed Harry in the past, that much was true...but so help her, she would make it up to the boy by giving him the family that he never had.

As stubborn as Severus was...he deserved to be happy. The man had suffered deeply as well, and although Minverva wasn't privy to the details, she knew that Severus had suffered horrible abuse at the hands of his father. She also knew that he had been teased, and harassed mercilessly as a student, by James Potter, and Sirius Black. The years that Severus had served as a spy had also taken its toll on him. After having kept the darkest secrets cached away in the deepest recesses of his mind, and after the necessity of keeping his emotions tightly controlled for so many years, Minerva wondered what could possibly be the key to opening his heart.

Perhaps these two men were as different as night as day. And maybe she was banging her head against a brick wall, but as sure as Merlin was her witness,she was determined that she would do everything in her power to help them see how much they needed each other.

“You know that I wouldn't have offered you the position Severus, had I not the utmost faith in your capabilities. The only thing that I ask is that you not abuse your authority. Especially with your son. You must try to be objective if you hope to govern the students effectively and fairly, Severus. I promise to allow you to do your job, but please try to see Harry not as you have for the past six years...as an extension of James Potter, who we know is not Harry’s father, but as your son...Lily's son.

Draco Malfoy stood just outside the door, hand poised in the air, ready to knock. He was frozen in shock. Son? Snape's son? Potterwas Snape's son?