Severus

Severus finished Harry's letter and leaned back in his chair. What was Dumbledore up to? Yes, he had known—from Dumbledore himself—that the boy's lessons would begin on Saturday. But the Headmaster had not filled him in afterward on the details, only telling him, when he'd asked, that the evening had been successful and that he had given Harry quite a lot to think about. He would have to monitor this more closely and see if Harry would offer more up after the next lesson.

He shook his head. Harry had given him a lot to answer, from creative potions and patents to Malfoys and their facial hair to the coming Quidditch try-outs. He chuckled, imagining Lucius Malfoy sporting a beard similar to the Headmaster's, or Draco with an evil goatee. Ahh…Draco. He sobered thinking of the true mess the boy was in and the vow he had taken with the boy's mother. Shaking his head, he decided to give his answer to Harry's letter more time this evening, so he set Harry's homework scroll aside and started in on the 3rd year essays on Werewolves.

//

13 September, 1996

Friday

Dear Harry:

There was no mention of the waterbed in your last letter. Did you have a damp night?

In order to permanently put the height question to rest, I have consulted with my cohort in crime (Madam Pomfrey to you) and she has agreed to give all of the sixth years their yearly physicals early. A few extra tests are added for sixth year boys, including (cough cough) a check for hernias. Enjoy.

In answer to your questions about holiday plans—yes, barring unforeseen events that make it impossible, we will spend a week of the holidays at some as-yet undetermined remote location. The sea is an untame, wild place in the winter, yet magical still, but in a different way than in the summer. I think you would like it almost as well. I will warn you, though, that in the winter, the sea can evoke in one a profound loneliness.

A potion to make you less popular with the girls? I would not recommend the gender-changing potion. It has some side effects that are difficult for most males to tolerate—even for a short time. There are quite a few others that come to mind, though, including ones that produce spots, severe halitosis, extreme body odor, flatulence and warts. Each of these will keep the girls at bay, some more effectively than others. Do let me know which you prefer and I'll have Dobby bring you the required dosage.

I have, in my career, invented more than one potion and have made significant enhancements and changes to others. Wizards do have patents, of a sort, for potions and spells but the patent process is managed through the Ministry of Magic. A special department in the Ministry—the Department of Magical Innovation—reviews all new spells and potions and grants titles to worthy creations. As Magic is shared by all, the creator does not own the potion or spell he or she creates but is officially credited with its development and does earn certain residuals. Since you did ask, I am credited with the creation of a variant of Veritaserum for children. The potion, unlike the variety used in adults, leaves no recollection of the questioning and is chiefly used in cases where abuse is suspected, or when the child has witnessed an atrocity and willingly or unwillingly suppresses the memory.

As you can tell, I can be quite long-winded when discussing potions.

I must say that your tail in class on Wednesday was magnificent. I do know that it must have made you think of Pettigrew which of course brings other unpleasant things to mind. As a small reparation, I will give you this for your future use: As a child, Draco Malfoy owned a pet bunny which was killed by his father's hunting dogs. He still gets quite weepy when he sees rabbits. His own rabbit was white with black ears and assorted black spots.

Sadly, I do not know what happened to your mother's owl after her death. She received the owl as a gift from your father during our sixth year and I imagine she still had it when they married and when you were born. Eleanor Rigby was a Tawny Owl—quite large, even for a Tawny—and had more white than most owls of her breed. As for the Beatles song that gave the owl her name, it is quite a significant one for the group, and its authorship is contested. I'll let you read about it next time you visit. I've now rewarded you with another story about your mother without you earning it. I am indeed getting soft. This will not happen again.

Finally, I must comment—at the end of my letter—on that which you, too, left for the end of yours. I do not believe your meeting on Saturday with Professor Dumbledore will be the last one in which you will review memories in his Pensieve. Your job, Harry, as you travel these difficult waters with the Headmaster, is to go into these memories not as a student, following his lead, but as a colleague, working at his side. Be alert—do not focus all of your attention on the obvious action. Look to the sides, notice details, ask yourself why Dumbledore chose this particular memory. I am not advising you to try to beat the headmaster at his own game, Harry. I am asking you to learn to think like he does, to learn from him how to lead while you can for I cannot promise that you will not have him with you as long as you will need him.

By the time you read this, Quidditch try-outs will be over so I shall not wish you luck with the selection process. However, I do advise you to set a realistic practice schedule that recognizes that academics are the reason you are at Hogwarts. You will also already have had your first meeting with Professor McGonagall to begin Animagus studies. I suspect your return letter will be quite informative.

My clock has just moved from "In Trouble" to "Gryffindor Tower." I think I will change this clock and add hands that read "Breaking Curfew," "Snogging in the Astronomy Tower" and "In Detention" as "In Trouble" is far too broad for my comfort.

Regards,

Severus

/

Severus rolled up the completed scroll and placed it back with the other sixth year homework assignments. He glanced at the mantel clock again—thankfully, it still read "Gryffindor Tower." He'd stayed up late tonight to mark essays as he fully intended to be on the Quidditch Pitch tomorrow during the Gryffindor try-outs. He and Minerva would be sitting together through Gryffindor try-outs in the morning and Slytherin in the afternoon.

He stood and stretched then went into his kitchen to find his hip flask. Minerva was bringing the hot coffee, he the brandy. He filled the flask and took it into the sitting room, placing it on his desk beside his wand. He glanced at the clock again—purely out of habit—as he retired for the evening.

-Harry-

Harry, showered, dressed and ready for classes, crept down to the common room a full hour before his usual time. It seemed like every teacher had piled on the homework yesterday, having held back somewhat the first two weeks of class. He'd managed to finish all of it, but hadn't had time—or opportunity—to write to Snape, even though they didn't have class until tomorrow. And he had lots to write about, like his first Animagus Studies session with McGonagall and the semi-disastrous Quidditch try-outs. He shuddered thinking about how chaotic it had been.

Now, however, in the early light of this Autumn morning, it was more peaceful in the Common Room than it had been since the day the Hogwarts Express had brought his friends back to the castle. He sat on the sofa and propped his legs on the low table they used for homework, took out his quill and began.

/

17 September, 1996

Tuesday

Dear Severus:

Good one yesterday—making fun of Ron playing Quidditch. Comparing him to a water buffalo on a broom was inspired. I wasted an entire hour of homework time last night trying to calm him down and talk him out of quitting the team (again). I believe you owe me for this one, since I totally kept my cool in class and even though I had my wand in my hand I didn't spell Umbridge's bow into your hair.

So how much of the Gryffindor try-outs did you see? I spotted you with Professor McGonagall toward the end. You two looked very chummy sitting there sharing coffee. Well, if you saw ANY of it you know what a fiasco it was. When I got there I bet there were 50 people waiting to try out, and we only have 100 in Gryffindor! Some of the girls weren't even IN Gryffindor and most of them could barely stay on their brooms. Once I weeded out the ones that weren't in Gryffindor, couldn't ride brooms and didn't know what a Quaffle was from the mix, I still had trouble with some that thought they should have made it but didn't. All in all, it's a decent line-up but I'd give almost anything to have Fred and George back. And Oliver Wood. But don't tell Ron that. It was hard enough just getting Ron on the team. I don't want a repeat of last year with the lovely song your Slytherins made up. Did you help them with the lyrics?

I haven't exactly slept in the waterbed yet. My first attempt at transfiguring my four poster was…um…interesting. I think I must have gotten the Latin wrong, because I ended up with a wet bed instead of a waterbed. The guys really had a time with that one. Even Neville was laughing. Would you send me the correct incantation? Better yet, would you sneak up into Gryffindor Tower and do it for me?

I thought you were kidding about the sixth year physicals until Madam Pomfrey came into our Transfiguration class this morning and passed out our appointment times. Gee, thanks! Are you sure you two aren't related? It won't change anything, you know. Students getting physicals doesn't make YOU taller! And I'll be watching you to see if your heels start growing on your boots.

I'll take a pass on the potions you suggested to keep the girls away. I'll just have to resort to being rude and breaking hearts. I mean, a few years ago I'd probably have taken the flatulence potion in a heartbeat. Today, not so much. However, if you would have Dobby send up a dose or two, I'm sure I'll find a use for it. Hermione can be rather long-winded, if you know what I mean…

Thanks for telling me more about my mum's owl, even though I didn't earn it. I asked Hagrid about Tawny Owls and found that they're the most common ones in the UK, and the largest too. I love Hedwig, but sometimes it would be nice to have an owl that just blended in with all the others. Guess I wasn't thinking about that when Hagrid took me to get her. I fell in love with her on the spot—I'd never had a pet before and she was so beautiful. Well, back then I didn't realize that I would stand out already at Hogwarts and she'd make me stand out even more. Don't get me wrong—I'd never give her up or trade her in. Just thinking how things might have been different…

I never asked you this before. Hope I'm not being rude or nosey. What do you normally do over the holidays? Do you see your family? I suppose you don't have a wife and children—I don' t think you'd have let Dumbledore saddle you with me for a month this summer if you did. Well, I'm sure I'm being impertinent (that's one of your words). I just don't want to cut into any other plans you might have for Christmas.

Do you think Malfoy would be sensitive to having bunny ears?

Oh—that bit about me being in trouble the other night…it was the girls again! I was trying to sneak out of the dorm under my invisibility cloak to get some peace and quiet. I ran right into Professor McGonagall when I got through the portrait hole anyway. I finally broke down and told her why I was trying to hide and she took a really long (and uncomfortable) look at me and said something like "you might try Severus' shampoo." What do you think she meant by that?

I think I know what you're getting at with your advice about my meetings with Dumbledore. I think you want me to learn and see what he wants me to learn and see but to look with my own eyes too. I mean, Dumbledore picked that memory for a reason—he wants me to understand what's motivating Voldemort. But what else is there? More important—what else is there that can help me defeat him? No word yet on a second meeting but I will keep you posted.

OK—you know I saved the best for last. That's my Animagus training. Most of what we did Thursday was theory. It was hard to get my head around some of it but she says we have lots of time and not to stress out over it. The last half hour was the best part. Professor McGonagall transfigured me into seven different animals—well, one at a time. I spent about two minutes in each form then she transfigured me back and I had to write down what I felt like in that form—she wanted me to put down specific emotions or adjectives. This time she picked a bird, a reptile, a feline, a canine, an insect, a forest creature and a rodent. I didn't have enough time to get to really try out my forms but just seeing out of the animals' eyes was awesome. Here are the seven adjectives I used—can you match them up? If you're making me play games, I figure I can make you play one too. Ready? Alert, vulnerable, powerful, afraid, alone, watchful and clever. I'll tell you what animals they were next time…can't give away all the good stuff just yet.

Classes are still going OK. The teachers are setting tons of work, but seeing as you're one of them, you already know that. You're not too original, you know. First an essay on shield spells, then one on wordless magic, and NOW one on wordless magic for shield spells? Is wordless magic really that important?

By the way, that potion you described made me think. Do the kids know they're getting the potion before they're given it? Is its use regulated? Can't you see it being used for some really dark purposes? Sorry—like I said, it just got me thinking.

Regards,

Harry

/

Harry put his quill down and re-read the letter. He still had fifteen minutes before Hermione and Ron would be down. The common room did have activity in it now, with people coming down to meet their friends and get ready for breakfast. To kill time, Harry got out the Half-Blood Prince's Potions text book and began reading ahead. He sighed when he found another note stuck between the pages. It smelled flowery and the smell was stronger when he opened it.

"When I see you in the morning my head begins to sweat,

You're the chocolate on my biscuit, the soft hair on my pet.

I love you in the afternoon, I love you in the night,

If you were an apple, I'd take a great big bite.

"When I say your name out loud my mouth begins to drool,

Take me take me take me, you cannot be so cruel!

Your gorgeous face, your well-toned abs, your legs so long and lean

I lose myself in your eyes, so deep and bright and green…

Harry heard a suppressed snort and looked quickly behind him where Ron and Neville were reading over his shoulder. Great. Just great….

-Severus-

Severus was tired. It was not like the Dark Lord to summon him on a school night yet the summons had come nonetheless, while he was marking papers near curfew last night. He had flooed Minerva quickly to have her check on Harry and had been gone seconds later, hurrying down to the gates, thankful it was already dark. He hadn't returned until well after 5 a.m. He'd showered quickly, taken two Pepper-ups and had gone straight up to the Great Hall to be there when breakfast was first served.

Minerva had come in soon after he did, her face looking the tiniest bit relieved when she saw him in his usual place at the head table. She sat down beside him, taking Pamona's place.

"You look dreadful, Severus," she said, reaching for the plate of toast.

"How is Harry?" he asked, ignoring her statement.

She moved her head slightly to indicate the Great Hall. He looked up and saw Harry, alone, moving toward the Gryffindor table. He looked like he hadn't slept much but at least wasn't obviously staring at the table where he sat. He did glance over more than once, however, and Severus couldn't tell if the boy looked more worried or relieved.

Now, after a day full of classes following a night without sleep, he was too tired to mark. Still, he dug out Harry's assignment and read his letter, noting the hastily scrawled "He'd better not hurt you. He's beginning to really piss me off," at the end after he'd signed his name.

/

18 September, 1996

Wednesday

Dear Harry:

I am fine. While I appreciate your outrage on my behalf, building up anger over my plight in life and in this war will not yield the results you need. He is what he is; nothing will change that. Sometimes—no, often—he uses us as an outlet for his frustration. I am not singled out any more than any other. I am accustomed to dealing with this situation. You must trust me in this.

I am thankful that you reached your occluded state more naturally than you have in the past. Minerva said you were able to follow a chess game between your friends, albeit silently, while occluded, and that they believed you to be suffering from a severe headache. This is indeed good news, Harry. This represents a step toward a more natural state that will allow you to continue to function while occluding. I do not wish to trouble you but there will be more nights like last night as this year progresses.

You have now kept your head in two classes without being rewarded with a story about your mother. I agree, Mr. Weasley's Quidditch skills could give me fodder for the entire year. You came closer to losing your cool this morning when I read that lovely poem that was stuck in your book aloud to the entire class. Harry, with poetry like that coming at you, perhaps you SHOULD consider the halitosis jinx.

So…down to it, then. I have been thinking of this one for some time now, since we agreed to this little game. It is an old memory, but a fond one for reasons you will soon appreciate. During our first year at Hogwarts, Gryffindor and Slytherin were paired for Potions and Professor Slughorn set us the standard first year boil-cure potion. Your mother was paired with your godfather who, despite growing up in a magical family, had obviously never made a potion and probably should not have been allowed around fire or volatile ingredients. He sat there gaping at her and joking with his friends and let her do all of the work. The potion turned out perfectly but your mother, who certainly had a little bit of Slytherin in her, told Professor Slughorn that she wouldn't be happy unless they could test it to make sure it worked. Since no one had boils—at least, no one that admitted to it—she asked Slughorn to jinx Black so that he could earn the marks she had gotten for them. Black got boils, and the potion ultimately cured them. However, Slughorn first made Black drink the potion your father and Pettigrew had brewed together. That one made the boils disappear but left curious purple circles wherever they had been. After this first class, your very clever mother han invitation to the Slug Club.

Now, the Gryffindor Quidditch try-outs. First, let me commend you for actually ending up with a team. I was fairly certain, early on, that the group of second-years experiencing their first broom-rides would plow into your good players, leaving you crippled and maimed. Thank you for one of the most entertaining Saturdays I have had in some time. While I could not let my evil public persona laugh outright, I was laughing inside. While you may be eager to have the Weasley twins back at Hogwarts, I myself am having quite a good year with only half as many detentions to monitor as in previous years when they were here. My first years are also not turning into canaries, though several have had severe nosebleeds at very opportune times.

You have surmised correctly that I do not have a spouse or progeny. Most Hogwarts professors have quite enough of the under-18 set at school and do not rush off to procreate and bring more potential Hogwarts miscreants into the world. I inherited my small home in London from my parents upon their deaths and usually spend my holidays there. A holiday away from my London home occasionally would be most appreciated. It is not the most inviting or welcoming of places.

Now to the challenge you have set for me…note that I am also hazarding a guess on what specific animal Minerva chose for each category.

Alert Forest creature (stag)

Vulnerable Insect (bumblebee)

Powerful Canine (wolf)

Afraid Rodent (mouse)

Alone Feline (lion)

Watchful Bird (owl)

Clever Reptile (snake)

Do give me my score in your return letter. We'll see how well I know you…and Professor McGonagall. I noticed that she did not turn you into any aquatic creatures—I suppose her office was not the best place for an experiment of that sort. However, I will suggest she at least give you the opportunity to experience a few minutes of life as a goldfish in an aquarium.

Is wordless magic that important? You have just earned yourself an additional six inch essay on why it is. I'd like it Monday, please.

The Veritaserum potion variant I described to you is closely regulated. You are correct; it could be used for dark or selfish purposes—as could many other potions developed for practical and altruistic purposes. Add six inches of moral discussion to the end of the previous essay on the pros and cons of continuing to develop such potions.

I shall speak to Minerva about her comment regarding my shampoo. I am not entirely sure that she meant her comment to be complimentary.

Still waiting for that chess game…

And always remember, Harry, you're the chocolate on my biscuit—

Regards,

Severus

/

Severus chuckled as he finished the letter. He was beginning to very much enjoy both reading and writing these missives. He looked at the stacks of homework on his desk and decided to leave it for early morning, after he had a good warm dinner inside him and at least eight hours of sleep. He glanced at the mantel clock—it was dinner time and Harry was, predictably, in the Great Hall.

Severus' stomach rumbled as he stood up and made for the door.