Harry sat down and served himself from the trays of omelet, fruit, and bacon on the table. One the food was on his plate, however, Harry found he couldn't eat it. The perfectly normal food in front of him looked positively disgusting. Finally he gave up, pushing away his plate. Myles was giving him a look, but he ignored it. There was just too keyed up to eat.

“Mr. Potter, if you faint off your broom I will be most displeased.”

It was spoken with Snape's usual drawl, but Harry had long since learned that the tone held no real malice. Harry turned and scowled at the man.

“I'll be fine.”

“Yes you will. Eat, Mr. Potter.”

“Harry,” Harry whispered, mostly for himself, but he knew Snape had heard when the man put a hand on his shoulder.

“Harry. Eat.”

“I don't want to.”

The man's voice hardened just a touch. “Did I give any indication that this was optional?”

Harry scowled. Being nice doesn't mean you get to control everything, you know. “What do you think you can you do about it, shove it down my throat?”

The hardness didn't fade. “No.”

Harry smirked, triumphant. For once, he thought, he'd won.

“I can, however, prevent you from playing.”

Harry caught his breath, then glared fiercely. That fast, and he'd lost. Of course he'd play that card. Abruptly he felt the need to needle the man. I don't have to be nice all the time, either. “Asshole,” he muttered, a little too loudly.

“What was that, Harry?” Snape's tone was sharp.

Harry looked at him, momentarily cocky. “I said, you are a bastard. Sir.”

Snape didn't even blink. “Detention. Now eat your food. You're not going to do any better in the game for going hungry.”

Snape walked away, and Harry turned back around to see his teammates staring at him. Deciding to ignore the stares, and a vague sense of foreboding about the detention, he tucked into his food. He was going to pay for it later, he was sure, but for now he felt a lot better.

Severus walked away from Harry, shaking his head. The boy was so strange sometimes! Why on Earth had that been necessary? And yet, he knew, somehow it had been. Harry'd picked on Severus, gotten his reaction, now he could eat. Why am I not more angry about this? The boy had been incredibly rude. At the same time, though, he knew that the whole exchange would not have happened that way earlier in the year. Harry had baited him before, when he got angry or scared enough, but this was different, somehow. And how is that important? He just openly called me a bastard! In public! He felt almost...happy about it, though. Why? Merlin what is going on?

Finally he got it. It was almost like when Harry picked fights with Draco Malfoy. The boy was just blowing off steam, and using him as a safe target for it. Emphasis on the word 'safe,' Severus thought, almost smiling. Probably the first time in Hogwarts history that a student has chosen me for that purpose. The fact that it was Harry doing it made him feel...almost honored. It wouldn't keep him from making the detention unpleasant, but it kept him from feeling either angry or hurt. I would prefer he not do it in public, though.

The teams were announced, the crowd screamed, the captains shook hands, the snitch and Quaffle were released, and the game was on. Severus ignored it, instead watching as his suddenly far to young-looking ward zipped around on a suddenly far to fast-moving broomstick. Harry was really very adept at flying, though, making Severus think briefly of James before he shoved the thought away. As the game went on, though, it seemed less and less likely that the boy would actually fall, and Severus started to relax.

“Sooo...who are we rooting for?” Theo wanted to know. The four Slythindors were sitting in the stands on the very border between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors.

The four looked at each other. “Gryffindor,” Ron said decisively, then reddened when the others, even Hermione, stared at him accusingly. “Well I can't hardly root against my brothers and my own house, can I?”

“Well I'm rooting for Harry,” Theo said.

“So'm I!” Ron said defensively. When he yet again received incredulous looks, he reddened and said, clearly embarrassed, “I can't hardly route against my best friend.”

“And this is why Gryffindors are not known for their logic,” Blaise commented, receiving glares from both Ron and Hermione.

“Well what'm I supposed to do?” demanded Ron. “Harry's Slytherin, my brothers are Gryffindor. It's not like there's a Slythindor team!”

Hermione grinned. “I've got it,” she said. “We are rooting for the Slythindor team. We'll root for Harry, Fred, George, and whichever team currently has the Quaffle.”

Blaise looked at her incredulously for a moment, then grinned. “Or does something else cool,” he added.

“Perfect,” Theo said, before shouting, “Whooooo!!! Go team Slythindor!! Go Harry!! Go Weasleys!!”

Severus smirked. Miles Bletchley had apparently been a good choice for Slytherin team captain – the team worked together like a military unit, smashing the other team and protecting its seeker. The Slytherins' playing style tended to piss off the other houses, but nobody could doubt its effectiveness. Quiddich's penalty rules were pretty lax, and Slytherins knew well how to take advantage of that. It was rough, but it made them damn effective fighters later. Too bad so many of them end up fighting for the wrong side, he thought grimly.

Severus was shaken out of his thoughts, however when Harry's broomstick suddenly started trying to buck him off. In an instant Severus went from mere alertness to desperate concentration as he tried to stabilize the broom. He knew he wouldn't last long.

“It's Snape! Look, he's jinxing Harry's broomstick!”

“Are you nuts, Granger? Hurting Harry is the last thing on the Professor's mind, trust me. Who else is casting right now? Do you see anyone?”

“No, there's just- no wait! Quirrell! Why would he want to hurt Harry, though?”

“Who cares? Let's go!”

What the hell is going on?! Dumbass don't think just hold on. Shit I'm gonna die. Hold the fuck on.

“Acarnum Inflamare!” cast Hermione. Blaise, more practically, just shoved Quirrell off the stands with his shoulder. Both looked up to see that Harry's broomstick had stilled. Since Snape was still focused, they knew they'd targeted the right teacher.

“Bastard!” exclaimed Hermione, then blushed as Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Well, he is!” she finally said defensively, making him grin.

“Good casting, Granger,” Blaise said as the two of them slunk off.

“Nah, your method was quicker,” Hermione admitted.

“Yeah, but now he's on fire,” Blaise pointed out as a muffled cry was heard from the teacher's box.

“True,” Hermione admitted, smiling proudly.

Blaise shook his head. We are a seriously bad influence on her...

They both reached their seats just as a cheer rose up from the audience – Harry was back on his broom, and after the snitch. Damn is that boy single-minded sometimes, Blaise thought to himself, grinning.

“Slytherin WINS!” wailed Lee Jordan through the mic as Harry's hand closed over the snitch. The Slythindors cheered. Blaise and Theo were especially enthused, of course, but a win for Harry was a win for Slythindor, so Ron and Hermione did their best. Ron's brothers had looked pretty damn good in the game, too, and Gryffindor had been ahead for points before Harry caught the snitch, so they didn't feel too bad.

“So you wanna come to our party?” Theo asked excitedly. “It's only fair, since you won, too.”

Hermione winced. “Thanks, Theo, but I don't think that that would be politic. We've gotta go be Gryffindors tonight. If either of you want any quiet tonight, though, feel free to join us.”

Blaise looked at her, considering. “I might.”

“Blaise, umm-”

Blaise stopped on his way to the dungeons, waiting for Hermione to catch up.

“Hermione?”

“You – you'll talk to Snape, right? About Quirrell?” Suddenly she started babbling, “'cause he – he tried to kill Harry! We can't just let him get away with that, right? I mean, he might try again! B-but- if we tell Snape it'll be like with Flint except- except Flint was a kid and Quirrell tried to kill Harry and I just can't – but we've gotta let Snape take care of it, right? And-”

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down a little, Granger. What are you trying to say?”

Hermione looked anguished. “I can't do it, Blaise. I just can't. Snape'll kill him, you know? B-but otherwise Harry'll be in danger again and- so will you tell Snape, please? I- I need to pretend it wasn't me.”

Blaise looked at her, a strange coldness in his eyes, and at first Hermione thought he would refuse, but then he said quietly, “I'll take care of it.”

Hermione slumped with relief. “Thank you.”

“Harry.”

“Hey! Changing here!”

“Oh, please, Harry, that's why there are stalls.”

“It can't wait until I'm done?”

Severus controlled his face carefully, unwilling to show the rest of the team how badly he needed to just hear Harry's voice. “No.”

“What do you want?”

“You are uninjured?”

Harry almost grinned. Jeez you'd think he was my mother. “I'm fine. And hey, for once I managed to almost get myself killed without it actually being my fault.”

“I see nothing humorous in the situation, Harry.”

“Oh, well, I do,” Harry replied cheerfully. He felt great. Jacked up on adrenaline from his near-miss and the win, he felt like he could take on the world.

“When you are calmed down a bit, I would like to see you briefly in my office.”

“I'm fine,” Harry insisted.

How does he know that's why I want to see him? “I'm sure you are,” Severus said evenly, “I would nevertheless like to see you. It shouldn't take long.”

“Do I have to? We're having a party.”

Lord, I'm acting like Mrs. Weasley, Severus realized. My being a sentimental idiot is no reason to take him from his party.

“No, you don't have to. It'll hold until your detention tonight.”

“Any chance I can move the detention?”

“As rude as you were? No.”

“Any chance that I can move the detention if I come talk to you?” Harry wheedled.

Severus closed his eyes briefly. He's a Slytherin. Of course he'd offer a bribe. Problem was, he'd found Severus' price. “Well played. Yes.” Wonderful. I just got bought off by a first-year. I'm slipping. The bloody Dark Lord better return soon or I'll lose myself entirely. He grimaced briefly. He'd left Petunia Dursley alive, as per Dumbledore's and Harry's wishes. Neither would help the person who'd attacked the boy this time.

Harry grinned. I win! I actually won against Snape for once! “Ten minutes then. Now will you go?”

Snape left.

Harry arrived at Snape's office marginally calmed down, but still in a very good mood. It occurred to him that he ought to be scared, but the adrenaline rush wouldn't let him feel it, and he was perfectly happy to focus on his win and the upcoming party, anyway.

He quickly picked up that Snape was not in nearly as good a mood, though. He could've predicted that, given events, but it was him who'd been in danger. If he could lighten up, why not Snape?

Still, Snape gave him a small smile when he entered the office, before saying to him.

“You have detention with me tomorrow night at 7:00.”

Harry smirked slightly. I win. “So what's up, then?”

“Did it escape your notice that someone just tried to kill you?”

“Well, no, but apparently it was rather important to you that I meet with you now instead of later.”

“True,” admitted Snape. “I merely wanted to ask you away from your peers if you are hurt in someway.”

“I'm fine,” Harry said for the third time. “A little tired, is all.”

Snape regarded him confusedly. “You were not frightened by the incident?”

“No.”

Snape didn't seem to believe him, and met Harry's eyes seriously. “You have no reason to fear. The person who attacked you will be dealt with.”

Harry raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Do you even know who it was?”

“No,” Snape admitted, “but I will.” It was said with absolute assurance, but Harry was not convinced.

“You're not a god, Professor. You can't protect me from bloody everything.”

Snape smiled grimly. “I can try.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I'm okay. Can I go now?”

“Politely, please.”

“May I go now, please?”

“Thank you, yes.”

After his brief, reassuring interview with Harry, Severus relaxed back in his office chair for a moment, thinking things through. It took a lot to hex a racing broom, and the one Harry had borrowed for the game was one of the better protected. It seemed unlikely that any of the students could have overcome those protections enough to effect the workings of the broomstick the way the attacker had. Those few seventh years that Severus felt might be able to do it were very unlikely to want to. They either answered directly to Severus, or were mindlessly loyal to Dumbledore. In short, whoever it was had to be an adult at the school. Problem was, from there it could be anyone. Any of the professors other than perhaps Dumbledore could be Imperiused into attacking Harry. Quirrell's been acting odd lately. But that wasn't enough evidence to kill a person. He'd have to watch and see.

He was surprised out of his musings by a knock on the door. It was unusual for anyone to go anywhere after a Quiddich game, let alone visit him.

“Enter.”

It was Zabini, with that strangely mature, dark look in his eyes that Severus had observed once before. The boy walked up to his desk, back ramrod straight, and Severus wondered why he'd come to his office right after a Quiddich match.

“It was Quirrell.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Zabini?”

“He was sitting right behind you, focusing right on Harry, and Harry's broomstick stabilized after I shoved him over. It was Quirrell.”

And there it was. Does he know he just signed a man's death warrant?

“I thank you, Zabini, I needed to know that,” Severus said hesitantly, “but this is a very adult matter. I do not wish for you to become too involved.”

Blaise shrugged. “I'm already involved,” he pointed out, “and it's worked out fine thus far.”

“I realize, Zabini, but you don't seem to realize the sort of harm you may be doing to yourself. I realize that this is the path that your relatives want you to follow-”

Suddenly Zabini broke into a savage grin, seeming to have figured out what Severus was trying to say. “No worries, sir. I was just going to assume that Quirrell decided to take his early retirement in the Caribbean without giving leave. In fact, if you like I'll start spreading the rumor.”

Severus winced. “Mr. Zabini-”

Blaise's smile disappeared as suddenly as it came, leaving only the disturbing coldness in his eyes. “It was either me or Hermione, Professor, and we both know I'm more experienced with these things.”

“That may be, Mr. Zabini, but that does not make me any happier with adding to that experience.”

“It is a little late to be protecting my innocence, sir. I'll stay as distanced from this as I can, but you can hardly expect me to keep this knowledge to myself.”

“You could have gone to the headmaster, instead.”

“He wouldn't believe me, and anyway it'd be useless going through him.”

“How do you figure?” Severus asked thoughtfully.

“Well he didn't deal with Flint, did he? You did. If anybody's really gonna help Harry, it'll be you.”

“You'd be surprised,” Severus said, bizarrely flattered by the the dark-eyed boy's bald statement. “Headmaster Dumbledore might not have reacted the same as I in this case, but he is no pushover.”

“Oh, I know. But he's the great Hero of the Light. He can't get his hands dirty. I just figure that you do for Dumbledore what I'm doing for Hermione.”

“Which is?”

Blaise smiled grimly. “The dirty work. No point telling Dumbledore when I can just go directly to his hit man, right?”

Shit. Severus felt his expression go icy. “You are treading on very dangerous ground, Mr. Zabini.”

“Don't think I don't know it. Like I said, you're Dumbledore's Death Eater. I'm well aware that you don't have his scruples. But we're on the same side, sir.”

“Which is?”

Blaise smiled again. “Harry's. As long as we're both looking to keep him safe, than neither of us has anything to fear from the other, regardless of our other loyalties.”

The threat was not lost on Severus, but he dismissed it. As much as Zabini talked like an adult, he was still an eleven-year-old boy. He wouldn't always be, true, but for now, sincere as the boy was, he couldn't back up his threat. Unless he's talking about information. He could, in theory, write a letter to Lucius Malfoy that would put me in a very tight spot. At any rate, the boy did have a point about Severus not being a threat to him. Little brat's got me pegged. Too observant for his own good.

“I was not necessarily talking about any threat I might pose to you, Mr. Zabini. Peddling in information, for money or no, is a very dangerous business. You would do well to be less observant and more discrete.”

“I can't be both?”

Severus regarded the boy gravely, suddenly sincerely worried. “Be careful, Mr. Zabini. You cannot help Harry if the wrong person decides that you are...inconvenient. And I will be much less effective protecting Harry if I have to protect you as well.”

“I'll keep that in mind, sir.”

“You do that. You're dismissed, with my thanks.”

“...d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus...”

“Oh, I thought we'd keep this private,” Severus said, voice icy. “Avada Kedavra.”

“Severus, come in. Lemon drop?”

Severus gave the headmaster his nastiest sneer. “No, thank you. I have news, but then I plan on spending the evening drinking myself into a stupor.”

Both of the headmaster's eyebrows rose at the statement. “Very well, Severus, what is your message?”

“Quirrell just left on an early retirement in the Caribbean. You'll need to hire a new Defense instructor.”

Dumbledore knew Severus very, very well. He winced. “I presume you had your reasons-”

“Yes.”

“I'll have Aurora take over your house for the night.”

“No.”

“Not optional, Severus. You're taking the night off. I'd ask you to take the week, if I thought you'd let me.”

Severus grimaced. “Very well, but not Aurora.”

“Who then?”

“Minerva.”

“She doesn't have the extra time.”

“Flitwick? Sprout?”

“They also have their own houses to watch.”

“Too bad, then. We're left with a ghost, and me. I'll supervise the house.”

“You're taking time off. I'll take your house for the rest of the weekend, and your classes Monday.”

“I will be back tomorrow.”

“No, you won't.”

“Albus-”

“Severus! I am the headmaster of this school, and your senior in command. You just told me you're planning to spend the evening passed-out drunk. That's fine, but you're not doing it here. Go home, Severus. I am fully capable of supervising your students for a couple of days.”

Severus barely kept himself from gaping. It was very, very rare for Albus to pull rank on him. That was not the way their relationship usually went, at least outside of wartime. As it was, Severus just stared blankly for a moment before biting out, “Yes, sir.”

Albus sighed. “Severus-”

“Vincent Crabbe is allergic to peanuts, and not nearly intelligent enough to remember it on his own. Don't let anything anywhere near him. Terrence Higgs needs to go to Madame Pomfrey before curfew every night for his treatment. Same thing every morning for Adrian Pucey and Daphne Greengrass. Greengrass is almost as dumb as Crabbe, so you'll have to remind her. Tracey Davis is permitted to sleep in the fifth-year dormitory with her older sister when she needs it. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger spend an inordinate amount of time in the Slytherin common room. They're permitted provided they don't bother the other students and are back in their own dorm by curfew. Harry-” he faltered. “Just leave Harry alone. He'll behave a lot better if you don't confront him. Now I have a lot to do if I'm going to leave tonight-”

“Severus-”

“Goodnight, Headmaster,” Snape said firmly, turning towards the door.

“Severus stop it. You are throwing a temper tantrum.”

Severus turned, outraged, as Dumbledore continued to speak. “You do not have to talk to me if you do not wish to, Severus, however, I do need some modicum of information. I assume that Quirrell was – is-responsible for the behavior of Harry's broomstick during the match this morning?”

Severus nodded. “I also have reason to suspect he was – or, if you prefer,” he smiled grimly, “is - after the stone.”

“Very well, Severus, I will not challenge your decision. However, I would have preferred a little prior warning.”

“I dealt with it. There is no evidence that should point to me.”

“Other than your reputation as a Death Eater, and your proximity to the victim, of course.”

Severus wasn't worried. “Everybody knows Lucius is a Death Eater, too, Albus. If he gets away with his crimes, I'll certainly get away with mine. You did want me to keep my reputation as a Death Eater, after all,” he said bitterly.

“In order to keep you safe, Severus.”

“Keeping me safe is impossible, Albus. As long as I am useful to you, I will also be in danger. We've been playing this game for a long time, and I am as yet neither dead nor in Azkaban. Our luck will either hold, or it won't.”

“Very well, Severus, I won't argue with you. Go take your days off. Do whatever you've got to do, but come back sane. You are needed here, my boy.”

Severus sneered and left. Sentimental fool. I kill a man and he decides I need therapy. Sorry Albus, but Zabini is right. I'm not a good person with 'issues;' I'm the Light's hit man.

At dinner, Harry noticed Snape's absence with confusion just as he also noticed that one of the owls in the hall was headed for him. He took the bird's note, reading it with a frown.

Harry - I have been required to take a couple of days off. Your detention has been postponed – I'll see you in the Room of Requirement Monday at the usual time, and then in my office for detention directly afterward. Albus Dumbledore is taking over my dorm duties and Monday's Potions class. Do not give him any trouble. Congratulations on your win, and have a pleasant rest of the weekend, Severus Snape.

Harry read the note, finding his heart beating fast. Snape was leaving him to Dumbledore? How could he do that? Realistically, he understood that Snape probably had his reasons for leaving, but why Dumbledore? Why not McGonagall or one of the other dorm heads? Snape knows I don't trust Dumbledore. What the hell? He grimaced. And what the hell is my problem? God forbid Snape leave for a couple of days. He's gotta leave somebody in charge! Bloody hell what do I care?

Abruptly Harry decided he was finished eating, and returned to his dorm. The party that had started right after the Quiddich players returned from the pitch was still going on, and didn't look ready to end any time soon, but Harry had already stuffed himself on candy during the afternoon, and anyway the later it got the more the party seemed to cater to the older students. Harry was offered the fire whiskey but waved it off for the moment. Maybe he'd accept some when he returned for curfew, but for now the quiet and safety of the Gryffindor common room was calling him. He grabbed his books and his cat (she'd been hiding under his bed all afternoon, so he figured she, too, would appreciate getting away from the party) and left the dorm.

When he arrived in the Gryffindor common room, Blaise was already there, talking quietly with Hermione while Ron hung out in another part of the common room with his unusually subdued twin brothers.

“Hey, Weasleys!” he called over, “nice game!”

Fred – or he thought it was Fred – looked up and gave a small smile. “Slythindors win?”

Harry smiled. He'd wondered what his friends had done about the house rivalry during the game. Theo had said something about 'team Slythindor', but he'd thought it had just been him. Apparently Ron knew about it, and had told his brothers, which in turn meant that Blaise and Hermione were probably also on board. The thought restored his good mood. He'd been really worried, at the beginning of the year, that his various friendships wouldn't work out, but they were going really well. Blaise was in the Gryffindor common room without him, for goodness' sake!

The next day, Harry headed for the Gryffindor common room immediately after breakfast, and stayed there all day. If Blaise and Theo thought it unusual, they didn't say anything, but just joined him. And anyway it doesn't matter. Gryffindor is safe. He just didn't feel comfortable in Slytherin knowing that if he got in trouble, it'd be Dumbledore dealing with him. And why not? What's so different? It's not like getting in trouble with Snape around would be any fun!

But Snape was a known evil, Harry finally realized. He always punished Harry when Harry did something to piss him off- or at least makes sure I'm punished by other people -but he also always made sure that Harry was safe, whether with him or someone else. And when he screwed up, he apologized, and when Harry screwed up, and apologized, he forgave him. Thereby making me feel even worse, Harry realized. Bastard.

But, Harry realized, even when he'd gone to him two days before to apologize, he hadn't been scared. Worried about Snape's reaction, absolutely, but not scared that the man would hit him. Not for a moment. And he hadn't for quite some time, now. He said he wouldn't hit me, and he never has He hasn't even grabbed me hard or shaken me or anything. The man only ever touched him at all when he really wanted Harry to look at him, or was really worried, or...or pleased. Like that first time Harry had apologized, and meant it, he'd touched his head. It had felt...good. Safe, like the hug did. Since when was an adult's touch safe? Since Snape. Whether Harry liked him or not, Snape made Harry feel safe, more than anybody else did, more even than Pomfrey or McGonagall. That felt...important, somehow. And now the man was gone. For two whole days. You'll live. But, just to be safe, he'd live in the Gryffindor common room. And stop bloody thinking about Snape. He's not that important.

“Ah, Severus, you have returned. I trust you enjoyed your time off?”

“I wouldn't know.” But I do enjoy baiting you. Severus had not, in fact, been drunk enough to forget the weekend, but it pleased him to let Albus think it. He'd never managed to get the man to reproach him for it. It seemed that Albus' guilt would not allow him to blame Severus for anything he did after a kill, which somehow made Severus that much more keen to get a rise out of him.

Albus sighed, then, as usual, ignored the barb and changed the subject. “Your house was fine, as were your classes.”

“Did anybody actually learn anything?” Severus asked without much hope.

“I gave them a study-hall,” answered the Headmaster. “I knew that if I did otherwise I'd never convince you to leave again.”

Damn straight, thought Severus. “And Harry?”

The headmaster frowned. “I haven't seen him outside of mealtimes. I know he makes curfew, because the prefects report it to me, but I never actually see him come in, I'm quite curious as to how he does it,” he said suggestively.

Severus groaned. I didn't know it would be that bad. If he had, he probably wouldn't've left. “And I am sure he would not willingly share the information with you.”

“Ah, but you know it,” the headmaster commented, eyes twinkling.

Severus spoke calmly around his sudden anger. “Yes, I do, but then he's also over hiding from me. That small bridge of trust has taken me some time to achieve and I'll thank you not to ask me to break it over something so small.”

The headmaster winced. “You think he was hiding from me?”

“I know he was. I could even probably tell you where he was hiding, but again I will not break his confidence.”

The headmaster held up a hand and spoke placatingly. “Very well, Severus, I will not push. I was simply commenting on the boy's extraordinary abilities. It is rare for a student to successfully evade me.”

“And yet you found it humorous when he managed to evade me at the beginning of the year,” Snape drawled, feeling vindicated, “I daresay my abilities are superior to yours in that respect.”

The headmaster smiled sadly. “Ah, yes. And yet somehow Harry's abilities are better still. A good skill for him to have, though I shudder to think on how he acquired it.”

“Indeed. Did he go to class, at least?”

“Yes.”

“How did that go?”

“Strangely, since you ask,” Albus said thoughtfully. “The Zabini boy glared daggers at me every time I came anywhere near him.”

“I'm not surprised,” Severus commented, “Zabini is protective of Harry. No doubt he saw Harry avoiding you and decided to help him out. And he probably doesn't trust you himself, come to think of it. I wouldn't, from his perspective.”

To Severus' surprise, the headmaster's eyes filled with hurt. “Am I really so frightening, Severus?”

“Only to those who see past the mask, and either know you they might come up against you someday, or don't know you well enough to know you won't harm them.” Severus answered honestly.

“And speaking specifically?”

“Any Slytherin worthy of the house. Especially those who, like Zabini, are either following my path, or close to it.”

“You think Mr. Zabini will grow to join the Death Eater ranks?” The headmaster sounded alarmed.

“Could happen. But no, I believe he's too loyal to Harry. I personally think it more likely that Zabini will skip the Death Eater ranks and succeed me in the Order, or take a similar position as an Auror.”

“He knows your role?”

“Approximately. He called me 'Dumbledore's Death Eater.'” Seeing Dumbledore wince, but not actually protest, Severus decided he was done with the conversation. “Now if you'll excuse me, Headmaster, I have an appointment with Harry at five, and I would like to get back to my chambers before then.”

“Very well, Severus. We shall talk later, I am sure.”