Harry's blood was boiling. First Snape...now McGonagall! They were both beginning to seriously piss him off! Fisting his hands tightly in a spurt of anger and frustration, Harry stomped all the way up to the Tower. He just knew he could not endure sitting in Charms, trying to pretend that he was paying attention, and concentrate when his mind was clearly not in any shape to absorb any more knowledge. He knew that he would just sit there, and stare into space, listening to Flitwick's squeaky voice drone on and on, till it put him in a trance... and there was certainly no way that he had any desire to lay eyes on his dear father right now!

I'm in seventh year, he told himself. It's not even mandatory to attend school; there's certainly nothing they can do to me if I decide not to go to class. Harry ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that told him skipping Defence with Snape was not the most intelligent decision he had ever made.

Harry threw himself down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

---

“Where's Harry?” Hermione glanced around Flitwick's classroom anxiously.

Ron looked bewildered. “Hmm...maybe he's still with McGonagall,” he suggested.

“Class is about to begin, and he's going to be late again.” Hermione slammed her book bag on her desk in frustration.

“You're not his mother Hermione; leave the man alone. Harry's not five years old; if he's late then it's his business, not yours.” That earned him a fierce glare from Hermione.

“Well I'm his friend Ronald, and I'm worried about him. He's been acting strangely; flying off the handle at the drop of a pin. He seems to be really far away sometimes too. Don't tell me that you haven't noticed?”

“Yeah, he's been a little...off,” Ron admitted reluctantly. “But, look what Harry's been through. He got rid of Voldemort for good, and he's lost a lot of people he really cared about.” Ron's heart squeezed in his chest at the thought of Fred's death. His whole life had been turned upside-down as well. Sometimes he felt as though he had to be the strong one. His mom had had a complete breakdown, and his father was trying his best to console her, but he was grieving too. As since Mr. Weasley was extremely busy at the Ministry these days, it was ultimately up to Ron to be the man of the house. Charlie was back in Romania working with dragons, Bill and Fleur had gone to France to visit Fleur's parents, so Ron felt it was up to him to hold the family together. Ron had also given up his plans to become an Auror like Harry. He'd had quite enough of danger and excitement...thank-you-very-much, and Fred's death brought to home how mortal they all were. How a life could be snuffed out at the blink of an eye. Maybe he would find a nice safe job at the Ministry, like his father. Yeah, Muggle artifacts were beginning to sound really exciting!

“Now the poor guy finds out that the bloody bat of the dungeons is his father and Snape has been a real git to him too,” Ron pointed out. “Just back off and give him some space Hermione.”

Hermione huffed impatiently. “I realise that Ron, but arriving late to class and losing points or getting detention, is not going to help matters,” she said haughtily.

Ron threw his hands up in the air in defeat. He knew that when Hermione made up her mind on any given subject, it was useless to argue.

Their frenzied whispering came to a halt however when the small instructor entered the room. All through class, Hermione kept darting looks at Ron and motioning to Harry's empty seat. Ron had to admit that now he was beginning to worry about Harry's whereabouts and his frame of mind.

As the students were emptying the classroom, Hermione pulled Ron aside. “I can't believe that he skipped class again. He's going to be in so much trouble.” Hermione's face crinkled with worry. “I hope that he hasn't done anything foolish.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “I'm sure that Harry's fine Hermione. Maybe he took a walk around the grounds to clear his head, or maybe went to lie down, and fell asleep. Or maybe he-”

“I get the picture Ron,” Hermione snapped. “C'mon, let's get to Defence before we're late. I don't fancy Snape throwing me out of class again, or taking more points off of Gryffindor. I just hope that Harry shows up there.” Hermione worried her lip in vexation.

Ron glanced at Hermione incredulously. “Surely Harry's not mental enough to skip Snape's class?”

“Frankly Ron, I wouldn't be surprised at anything that Harry did lately. He's obviously not thinking clearly and he's been quite testy too.”

“Well...he has been a bit moody, but I'm sure that it's nothing serious. Just relax; I'm sure that he just needs time to himself...to work things out.” Ron lifted Hermione's chin up gently, and looked into her eyes. “He'll be fine Hermione. Harry can take care of himself,” Ron assured her. He took Hermione's hand in his and pulled her along towards the Defence classroom. “C'mon...I'm sure that he's probably already there.”

Hermione looked doubtful but nodded her head anyway. “Yes, you're probably right. Let's go.”

----

But Harry wasn't in Defence, and Snape looked murderous when the class began and there was still no sign of him.

Hermione and Ron took their seats, and again anxiously looked at the door expecting Harry to waltz in at any moment. It was obvious however, as the class continued that Harry had no intention in coming.

Snape glared at Ron and Hermione as if it were their fault that Harry was absent. “We will again be performing non-verbal spells this year, and I expect a better performance than last year,” Snape sneered. “Not to be holding your breaths until you look like constipated hyenas,” he said maliciously. “You will now divide,” he went on, “into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on.”

“I said non-verbal spells, you idiot boy,” Snape bellowed at Neville. “You are seventh years...you should have mastered this concept long ago,” he scowled.

As he stalked around the room, Snape's fury was gathering up like a storm cloud. He was infuriated at Potter's noticeable absence, and the pathetic performance of the students was not alleviating his irascibility. Snape's skin prickled, as once again he sensed a pair of eyes staring at him. He turned his head slowly, and caught Malfoy quickly glancing away. He had caught the boy looking at him oddly since the class began, and it was starting to make him uncomfortable. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, as the ache in his head began to intensify. Severus once again cursed Minerva for having blackmailed him into staying on at Hogwarts. He could have been a respected researcher, at the top of his field, working for a prestigious hospital. Or he could have been an independent Potions Master taking on only the most affluent clients. He could have been living the life of luxury, he could have been the most respected Potions Master in Europe, but NO...he was here teaching imbecilic, empty-headed children who had no desire to exceed.

As the class filed out, Severus blocked Malfoy's exit from the classroom. The boy looked up in surprise at his Head of House. "Mr. Malfoy," Snape drawled, "I wish to speak with you privately."

Malfoy squirmed. He really didn't want to reveal to Snape that he had been eavesdropping on his private conversation with McGonagall--that he knew that Potter was Snape's son. What could Snape want with him though? Did he already suspect that he knew Snape's secret? "Of course sir,"

Snape waved his wand and placed a silencing charm on the classroom. "You seemed rather...distracted today," Severus began cautiously. If Draco was disturbed about something, Severus didn't want to be too forceful. He wanted the boy to feel comfortable confiding in him. "Is something bothering you? Snape asked quietly.

"Oh...no sir, not at all," Malfoy protested quickly. Too quickly, Snape thought suspiciously.

"How is your mother doing Draco?" Snape noticed that Draco expression flitted quickly to one of sorrow.

"She's well sir...but you know... it's not easy for her with father in prison." Draco lowered his eyes sadly. It had been difficult for his mother. As much as Draco knew that his father had gotten off rather easy, and as much as Draco knew that he should feel grateful to Potter for his part in the court's leniency with his mother and himself; the shadow of resentment was still lurking under the surface. His mother was apathetic and depressed, but Draco knew that he and his parents owed Severus and Potter their lives. The Dark Lord would never have had mercy on them. He would have sucked their souls from them, as viciously as a Dementor would have.

Despite his gratitude towards his Professor and Potter, he couldn't help the jealousy that emerged at the thought that Severus was actually Potter's father. Although Draco's father had doted on him publicly, and as much as Draco knew that his father had sacrificed much for his happiness, Lucius had high expectations of his son, and he could be demanding and cruel at times. Draco had always wished in some ways that Severus had been his father, not Lucius.

Severus was tough on his Slytherins, contrary to the public displays of favourtism he displayed towards them in class. In private however, Snape made it clear that he had high expectations of his Slytherins. He demanded that they attain a certain level of academic standing, did not tolerate disrespect, and expected the Slytherins to display a certain amount of decorum in public. Merlin help them if they lost points for Slytherin, even though Severus himself never took points from his own house, and never admonished them or humiliated them in class. However, he had no qualms whatsoever in assigning them the most monotonous, and gruesome detentions behind closed doors. It was common knowledge amongst the Slytherin students that should they displease their Head of House in any way, they could expect the most severe punishments.

Draco himself had spent every day for a month gutting frogs and cleaning toilets with Filch, for having lost points from Slytherin when he had once mouthed off to McGonagall, and she had taken off thirty points from Slytherin. Snape had been livid when he had found out that not only had Draco been disrespectful to a Professor, but he had cost Slytherin points as well.

But Severus had always been well-respected amongst his House. The Slytherins had known that they could come to him with any problem no matter how large or small. While the man was far from being demonstrative or affectionate, he was a solid, stable presence for the Slytherins, and his snakes knew that they could always count on his loyalty and fierce protectiveness to guide them through their years at Hogwarts. Of course, now that Severus' loyalties were common knowledge, some of the students were a little reluctant to come to him, but most of the Slytherins were grateful to the professor for saving them from a life of servitude to The Dark Lord. Many of the Death Eaters and their families gained even more respect for the reserved Professor for his bravery and for putting his very life on the line for them.

Unfortunately... there were some Death Eaters who had escaped justice and who still posed a threat to Severus and Harry. Draco didn't delude himself that he was probably in danger as well. Many of Voldemort's faithful followers considered his mother, father and himself traitors as well, and Draco felt at times the animosity from some members of his own House. Most of that discomfort was self-inflicted though, because Draco felt disjointed and without purpose.

“You do know Draco, that should you feel the need to talk, that the door is always open,” Severus offered quietly.

“Uh...yes sir, thank you sir,” Draco muttered gratefully. He really just wanted to get away from Severus' scrutiny. He knew that Severus was a gifted Leglimens, and Draco valued his life. If Severus had had any idea what Draco was up to, those toilets in the seventh year Prefect's bathroom, would be glistening and Severus' private Potions store would be stocked to capacity till next Christmas!

“Uh... I really must go, sir. I have a lot of homework, you know. Thank you for your concern. I'll give your best to Mother.” Draco escaped as quickly as possible as soon as Severus lifted the silencing charms.

Severus looked at Draco's departing figure thoughtfully. That boy is up to something, his sixth sense warned him...and that intuition had saved his life many times in the past.

----

Draco ran up to the Owlery as quickly as possible, so as not to be noticed. He stopped halfway up, doubling over with a stitch in his side, and breathless from the unaccustomed exertion.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Draco took the note from his trousers' pocket, and attached it to the owl's foot. He was starting to have a pang of conscience, but jealousy reared its ugly head once more, and Draco pushed his second-thoughts to the back of his mind. Hopefully Severus would never find out that he was responsible, but he was tired of Potter's smug attitude and all the attention he was getting.

His father was in jail because of that prat, and his mother was a wreck. Yeah, Potter had saved his life in a sense, but Draco was tired of playing second-fiddle to Potter. If the conversation that he had heard was anything to judge by, the relationship between Potter and Severus was rocky at best. Draco was counting on driving Potter away, and finally acquiring some peace in his life. As an added bonus, he would finally have his Godfather all to himself. After all...it was Potter's fault that he didn't have his father around, and Draco was determined that he wasn't going to lose Severus as well.

Draco fastened the envelope to the school owl, with a frayed piece of cord. The

owl nipped his finger sharply, and Draco swore under his breath; he was tempted to swat the bloody bird. Draco breathed in deeply, and sent the tawny owl on its way. Draco's stomach churned. Oh Merlin...he wished that he could snatch the owl from the sky. The enormity of what he had just done, hit him like a punch in the gut. This ill thought-out plan could very well backfire on him, he realised suddenly. His plan might actually push Severus further away if the man found out what he had done.

----

After Draco left his classroom, Severus took a few minutes to compose himself, and pondered the dilemma of how he would deal with Potter. How dare that arrogant brat not only come to class late on the first day, but have the audacity to skip his class altogether as well? I do believe that this is a matter for the boy's Head of House, he finally decided. Yes...let Minerva deal with Potter. Because if he did, he would surely strangle the boy.

Severus made his way down to Minerva's office, and rapped briskly on the door. “Enter,” came a weary-sounding voice. As Severus turned the handle to enter, he overheard Flitwick and Minerva taking about Potter.

“I will be speaking with Mr. Potter and attempt to discover why he failed to attend your class Filius,” Minerva assured the tiny Professor.

“I was just concerned that Mr. Potter was ill, that's all Minerva,” Flitwick said with concern.

Well, well, well...Severus thought to himself. The plot thickens; my class is not the only one the brat has skipped.

Minerva shifted her gaze to Severus as he entered the room. “I'll be with you in a moment, Severus.”

“Now Filius I'm sure that Mr. Potter is just fine, but I'll look into the matter, and I'll be in touch,” Minerva said consolingly.

The tiny Professor looked relieved. “Very well Minerva, I'll leave it in your capable hands, and tell Mr. Potter that my door is always open if he needs anything,

Severus wanted to vomit. Yet again everyone was making excuses for Potter and throwing themselves at his feet. It made him nauseous when he thought of the adoration that the mediocre boy had received over the years, and how the brat had milked it for all it's worth. And to think that the boy was his son. No, he just could not adjust his thinking to see this spoiled, arrogant brat as his flesh and blood.

Minerva plopped down wearily in the seat behind her desk. “Sorry to keep you waiting Severus, this has been a rather distressing day,” she said, wringing her hands.

Severus lifted his eyebrow. “I'm afraid that it's not about to get any better Minerva.”

Minerva's eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean, Severus?”

“I mean that Potter failed to attend my class as well.” Severus crossed his arms, and waited expectantly to see Minerva's reaction.

Minerva's face fell. “Oh dear.” She looked crestfallen.

Snape's expression hardened. “Yes Minerva. And just what do you plan to do about it?”

“I believe that perhaps the question is what are you going to do about it Severus?” Minerva crossed her arms and glared at Severus. “You are my right-hand man, Severus and I do believe it's time to delegate some of my responsibility to you. Consider speaking to Harry your first task as Deputy Headmaster.”

Severus was appalled. “You are not serious Minerva!”

Minerva struggled to maintain a straight face at Severus' shocked expression. It was time to pull out the big guns she had decided. She was thoroughly fed up with Severus' stubborn refusal to deal with his son, and if he wouldn't do it on his own, well she would just have to give him a little push...or rather, a little shove!

“Oh quite, Severus. You are Deputy Headmaster, are you not? You did say that you wished I had more faith in your judgement and wished to be granted more authority. Well...your first order of the day is to deal with a student who failed to attend class.” Minerva gently pushed the tall man towards the door. “I trust that you will handle this with your usual professionalism and decorum, and not allow your personal feelings to interfere with your duties.”

“Minerva, I-”

McGonagall gave Severus a hard shove out the door.

“Good day, Severus”

The door slammed in Severus' face and he just stood there staring at the closed door, fuming and clenching his fists. Severus knew damned well what the infuriating woman was trying to do, and he would have no part of it. Potter was sulking and Severus would not tolerate this childish behaviour. Minerva wanted him to deal with it, and that is precisely what Severus intended to do.

He would teach Potter a lesson, and for once he wouldn't have to deal with Albus' interference. It had irked him beyond measure how the Headmaster had always undermined Severus' authority every time he had attempted to discipline Potter. Well, Minerva had just given him carte-blanche, and Severus intended to fully take advantage of it.

----

Harry pulled himself off his bed reluctantly, and decided that he should perhaps answer his grumbling stomach's demand for food. A check of his watch confirmed that it was dinner time, so Harry made his way to the Great Hall with trepidation. Harry was loathe to face his friends...especially Hermione, and explain his absence in Charms and Defence.

Hermione awarded Harry with a stern look. “Harry where on earth have you been? Are you out of your mind? Skipping Charms was bad enough, but Defence? Snape looked livid. I just can't believe that you would-”

Harry finally had had enough of Hermione's nagging. “Give it a rest Hermione! I'm seventeen, not two, and I don't need you scolding me like a little child,” he said coldly.

Ginny was shocked. “Harry! Hermione was just trying to help. She's worried about you...we all are.”

Harry slammed his hand down hard on the table. “Well...I don't need her help...I don't need anyone's help. All of you can just bloody well leave me alone. I got along just fine all my life without a nursemaid Hermione, so just back off,” Harry said furiously. He pushed himself abruptly back from the table and stood up, intending on fleeing what felt like an attack, but his plans were thwarted.

“Mr. Potter,” a silky voice said behind him.

Harry twirled around quickly to see a tall figure swathed in black, looming over him.

Snape looked down his hooked nose at Harry. “You and I need to have a little chat,” he said stonily. “My office. Now.”

Harry felt a rush of fury. He couldn't believe the nerve of the man, talking down to him in front of his friends. Well, he could just go to hell if he thought that Harry would follow him anywhere. He rose to his feet angrily because he felt at a disadvantage with Snape hovering over him so menacingly. Unfortunately for Harry, there was still a considerable height difference, and Harry had to crane his neck to look up at the tall professor.

“I'm rather busy Professor, so it'll have to wait,” he said quietly.

“Snape narrowed his eyes, and leaned down to whisper in Harry's ear. “Unless you wish to be embarrassed in front of your peers, Mr. Potter, I suggest you comply voluntarily with my request, or I will be forced to employ other means to ensure your cooperation.”

Harry gritted his teeth. Oh how he loathed this man.

Snape crossed his arms and fixed Harry with his cold, black eyes. “Well? What will it be, Mr. Potter?”

“Fine Snape,” Harry spat furiously.

Snape's expression grew thunderous. “You. Will. Never. Address me in such a manner again. If you ever call me anything other than sir, or Professor...you will deeply regret it, I assure you,” he said dangerously.

“Yes sir,” Harry said insolently.

Snape's face turned a deep shade of red. He fought to control his rising fury. “I will teach you a lesson in respect Potter that you will never forget if you don't adjust that attitude of yours,” he said in a low icy tone. “Now. Move.”

Harry hated giving in so easily, but as they had already drawn the attention of most of the students and staff in the Great Hall, Harry swallowed his next retort with great effort.

---

“Sit.” Snape pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

“I prefer to stand,” Harry said rebelliously.

Snape grabbed both of Harry's upper arms and forcefully plunked him into the chair.

Harry was indignant. How dare the greasy bastard manhandle him? Some measure of self-preservation must have taken hold of Harry though, or perhaps it was the fact that he was alone with the murderous-looking man in his office...but he wisely shut his mouth.

“Now,” Snape began coldly, “it has come to my attention that not only did you fail to attend my Defence class, but Professor Flitwick has reported your absence in Charms as well. As you don't look as though you are suffering from serious injury or illness, I would like to know just why you saw fit to miss two required classes. Explain.”

Harry remained silent. What was he supposed to say the git? I didn't go to your class because you are a bloody bastard, and I'm ashamed to be your son. You make me ill, and I want to vomit every time I look at your ugly face. No, Harry valued his hide!

“Very well then, Mr. Potter, it is clearly stated in Hogwarts’ Code of Conduct and Rules that all students are required to attend class unless given permission otherwise by their Head of House, Headmistress, or Deputy Headmaster-” Snape looked pointedly at Harry, “-and as such permission is only given for valid reasons such as illness or injury and as I know for a fact that Professor McGonagall had no prior knowledge of your intended absences, as she has asked me to deal with the situation...in my role as Deputy Headmaster.”

Harry groaned. How could McGonagall do this to him again?

“I do believe that two weeks detention for failing to attend my class is in order,” Snape began.

Harry actually thought that two weeks detention was pretty mild for Snape. But Snape wasn't finished by any means.

“And as I highly doubt that Professor Flitwick will discipline the Saviour of the Wizarding World,” Snape said sarcastically, “it appears that it falls on my shoulders to do it. Therefore, I am assigning two weeks detention for skipping his class as well. Oh, and I believe another week for your insolence would not be amiss, and another week for your blatant disobedience when ordered to come to my office. Let's see,” Snape drawled, pretending to count on his fingers, “that brings us to the end of term.”

Harry jumped up from his seat. “This isn't fair you, bloody git! When the hell am I supposed to do my homework? I'm going to talk to McGonaga-” Harry began. Dammit. He had forgotten! McGonagall was a traitor!

Snape smirked. “Oh... you may go running to Professor McGonagall to whine, but rest assured Mr. Potter...as she was the one that assigned me the responsibility of dealing with your transgressions, I believe your protests will fall on deaf ears. And as you can't seem to get a hold of your temper or control your smart mouth, I do believe that we will begin your detention immediately with five-hundred lines: I will not give cheek to my Professor and I will learn discipline and control of my temper.”

Snape handed Harry a piece of parchment and quill and motioned for Harry to pull up his chair up to the Professor's desk. Harry looked at Snape resentfully and gritted his teeth in frustration.

At this moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to hex the Giant Bat, who was smiling malevolently at him, into oblivian.