It was the sort of rage that came from a person who had been pushed so far passed calm that it had lost all meaning to them; and when that happened, rationality and trained instincts vanished, replaced only by the desire to push back against those responsible in order to grasp an established calm once again.
For five years Harry Potter had endured insults, unfairness, ignorance, hatred and spitefulness from Professor Snape, since the moment the Gryffindor had first set foot inside the Potions Classroom.
And now that Snape taught Defense against the Dark Arts, had anything changed for a man who had wanted to achieve that teaching goal for so long?
No, not when it came to Harry Potter.
But the Gryffindor had been shoved too far the previous day during a lesson on the Cruciatus Curse. It was a re-occurring topic of Snape’s and Harry did find it to be quite a lot of torture. Or rather, being anywhere near that grudge-holding, bitter and unfair man was listed under the definition of “torture”.
Snape had ranted about Harry Potter’s supposed incompetence, how he was just like his arrogant, attention-seeking father, and that his adoring fans would be disappointed to learn how mere luck got their hero from day to day.
This happened often, though not usually in front of an entire class in the way Snape had done it that day, no doubt annoyed that the “golden trio” had managed to get eight Slytherins into detention with Professor McGonagall the week prior.
Points had even been taken from the deserving house of snakes.
It was a joy to the Gryffindors that proved to be short-lived as they’d lost their temper that lesson and cost their house twice as many points more than Slytherin had.
Oh, and everyone but Harry Potter got detentions as well...a lot of them. Why, you may ask, if Snape hated Harry so much then why didn’t he get a month’s worth as well? It’s simple, see, Harry’s face had turned white and he gripped his textbook with both hands while a crazy glint appeared in his eyes that would have reduced a first year to countless tears...yet he didn’t make a sound.
It was incidences like that in which led to moments like this.
Harry exhaled as he descended the last step and looked around the colder and darker area of the dungeons.
Spotting the door in which was his destination, he held his chin high with defiance and set a frown upon his face. Harry strode forward and rapped his knuckles against the wood, slightly harder than necessary, though he failed to notice the light sting of his hand as he lowered it and awaited a response.
‘Enter.’
It was clear that Snape had no idea who was visiting his office or else his tone would not be so causal.
His expression contorted with injustice and dislike, Harry pushed open the door and let it swing soundly shut behind him.
Marching right up to Snape’s desk with unfaltering recklessness, he placed both of his hands on the little area of the desk’s surface in which wasn’t neatly piled with books or parchment.
‘Potter,’ Spat Snape, glaring at his most hated and annoying student.
‘I have something I would like to say.’ Harry told him.
Snape could not know it, but this was the first coherent string of words Harry had spoken since that Defense lesson the previous day.
‘It’s something I should have said a long time ago.’ He continued. ‘So I’m going to say it and then leave. I don’t fancy having another jar of cockroaches thrown at me, thanks.’
From that last sentence, Snape knew he wasn’t going to like neither the minutes nor words that were to follow.
Seeing the anger in the teenager’s face, he decided to let the Gryffindor rant and shout at him long enough to cost Potter’s house more points and then he could put the brat into detention liked he had the boy's housemates the previous day.
Harry nodded at the silence as though it was a gesture of permission and inhaled a deep breath as he soothed his temper just enough to think clearly. And without further hesitation, he began to say what he had so long ago wanted to tell the man, eager to get it all off his chest.
And above all...Harry Potter had a point to prove to one Severus Snape.
‘I’m sorry, Professor Snape.’ Harry said, stunning the man not with his words but the honestly behind them, though the teen’s tone was borderline sarcastic and annoyed.
‘I’m sorry for all of the problems, headaches, and wasted time in which I have caused you in the past five years since I came to Hogwarts.’ Harry said seriously.
‘I should have known from the moment I got my school supplies in first year that I had to learn every single thing off by heart in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi because of course I would be quizzed on a section of it not used until the later that year.’ He said smartly.
Suddenly Snape had frozen in his chair, not sure what to think of the boy who was clearly not meaning his apologizes and yet...somehow wasn’t lying.
‘I also should have known that taking down notes on what you were saying in that first Potions lesson was wrong and instead I should have just stared at you like everyone else was doing.’ Harry continued.
‘I should also have expected that someone would jinx my broom during the Quidditch match and realized that I should never suspect you of anything bad because Dumbledore knows everything and is never wrong.’
There was a deeper crease in Harry’s frown as he said that but he could not stop now that he had begun.
‘I did a lot if things that only made your life harder, such as flying that car into the Whomping Willow tree you clearly cared about and I should have known that. And all those countless times I didn’t think of the affect it would have on you, such as ending up in the Shrieking Shack with Sirius and Remus, and all the times I walked around the castle at night. Of course it was silly of me to assume that just because I found out something then there was no way I could be the only one, therefore should have just let you take control when you came into the Shrieking Shack and confronted enemies.’
A part of Snape knew he should stop the boy, but found he was unable to.
‘And when things went missing from your Potions stores in fourth year, I might have acted too quickly in telling you that I had nothing to do with it, after all it was all connected to me in the end and I had to have known that.’ Harry sighed.
‘And when you tried to teach me to Occlude my mind but I was unable to see through my own confusion and realize everything you were hinting to me in order to actually know what you were talking about, I’m sorry for that too. When you said “clear you mind” or “control your emotions”, I should have just done it and understand right away because you were the teacher and I was just a student.’
Harry lowered his gaze and had clearly lost the anger that had fueled him to begin this moment, but he wasn’t finished just yet.
‘I’m sorry for looking into your pensive as of course everything that was being kept from me was none of my business at all and I should have known how to fight Voldemort without anyone having to explain it to me.’
‘When I was excited for Potions in first year and inspired by your knowledge, control, and general brilliance that spurred me to hang to your every word and write them down, convinced that if I could be just like you than everything in my life would be better.’ Harry shrugged and looked at the floor again.
‘I should have expected to be hated, ridiculed and punished by that very same person.'
There was a long pause in which Harry Potter changed dramatically from using a sarcastic tone and showing his frowning face as he stared at the floor, to looking up at Snape with pure remorse and tearing green eyes.
‘And I’m sorry, Professor Snape, that you suffered anything because of me and that my father was a bully.’ Harry swallowed.
‘I’m really, really sorry that I remind you of my dead dad and that it has caused us to hate each other, for five years and counting, and therefore never allowing us to know the other at all.’ He sniffed.
‘I hope you can forgive me, Professor Snape.’ Harry finished. ‘Because I am sorry, and I wish I didn’t make so many mistakes that led to all the bad things in your life that I am responsible for.’ He nodded.
‘Thank you for listening, sir, and I shall be going now.’
And as the Gryffindor teenager left, Severus Snape stared stunned at the closed door for a full minute before he ducked his head and squeezed his eyes tightly closed.
He knew, just as Harry Potter did, that all of the things the teenager had said were in no way the boy’s fault. How could a muggle-raised child with a humble and trusting nature have possibly known all of the things that were going to happen to him?
Snape swallowed and re-opened his eyes; a single tear lingered with obsidian as the man leaned back in his chair and barely shook his head.
‘No,’ Snape whispered. ‘You were right in which to indicate that everything I hated you for was beyond your control and ridden with nothing more nor less than sheer injustice and the desire to regain something once lost.’
Lowering his gaze, the small droplet trailed down his pale left cheek and dripped slowly onto the robed forearm that concealed and protect the evil mark etched there on the skin.
‘It is I who is truly sorry, Harry.’
It was a Saturday in November, half an hour before dinner, and sixteen-year-old Harry Potter was more than just calm.
He was satisfied because his point had been made...at least for now.