"We're having another Occlumency lesson? But we just finished this one," Harry whined.

"Unless you have a better idea, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled. He was growing tired of the boy's constant whining every few seconds. However, Harry was a fourteen-year-old boy. It was just something he should have expected in hindsight.

"Well, we could do something fun."

"Fun…?" Snape repeated staring at the young man as if he grew a set of horns.

"Yeah, like…well, I don't know anything specific right now, but you know…fun. Come on, Snape. You have to do something fun." Harry's eyes then lit up before he snapped his fingers towards the older wizard. "I bet you like Scrabble."

"Scrabble…?"

"Oh, um…well…it's a Muggle game."

"I know what it is," Snape replied rather annoyed. "Why do you believe I'd ever like it?"

"Well, you know a lot of big words so I just thought you'd like it because you'd beat everyone."

"Life is not always about winning, Harry. However, I see your point. I must disappoint you, though. I have been told that I live a rather monotonous life."

"Oh," Harry said before glancing down at the floor.

"Is there some reason you are intentionally delaying our lessons?"

"It's just that these lessons make me have a horrible headache afterwards."

"Ah, I see. Then perhaps you are right, Harry. Perhaps a break is in order."

"Really…?" said Harry hesitantly. "But—"

"The lessons are vital to our success, yes, but so is your health if that be physically or mentally speaking. However, if you desire to play some game, then might I suggest Wizard's Chess instead?"

"Well, I kind of wanted to get away from that," Harry quietly said. He noticed Snape's questioning look, but the older wizard never asked. "Maybe we could just…you know…talk?"

"I am not known for small talk, Harry."

"It's fine. I don't think I want that." Harry then lowered his head. "You know how you said we're a lot alike?" He quickly glanced at Snape and noticed the curt nod. "Well, what did you mean?"

"I believe you know precisely what I meant, Harry," Snape responded calmly.

"So you think we're alike because Malfoy and I remind you of my dad and you?"

"That and how similar our childhoods were."

"Oh," Harry quietly said.

"I am correct in my assumption that it was not the only time that horrid Muggle assaulted you?" Harry slowly nodded. "Yes, so I thought. Harry, listen to me. It does not make you weak because a Muggle abused you. You were a child. No one could ever expect you to fight back against a fully-grown Muggle especially one as large as him. You are not at fault. If anyone is, then it is the Headmaster and myself who are to blame."

"But when I came back after my first year—"

"You felt the urge to strike back at him magically," Snape finished saying.

"Yeah," Harry instantly replied. He then stared at the older wizard. "How did you know?"

"Before I answer that, I would like it if you answered a question of mine. Is this acceptable?"

"Uh…yeah, sure," Harry said.

"What is your assumption of my blood purity?" At the sight of Harry's confusion, Snape clarified, "Do you believe me to be a pureblood or a half-blood?"

"That's easy. You're a pureblood," Harry responded. "I mean, everyone knows that Slytherin only accepts purebloods into their house."

"A common misconception, Mr. Potter," Snape coolly replied. "I am in fact a half-blood. My mother was a pureblood witch, while my father was a Muggle. You see, Harry, my father was a lot like your Uncle Vernon. A drop of whiskey in him, and all hell would break loose. He assaulted my mother and me numerous times because we had used magic in front of him. Another similarity among us, I believe. I still remember the feeling of power I felt after first arriving back from Hogwarts my first year. I felt that same urge you did. The urge to make him pay for all everything he ever did."