What he wanted more than anything else was a good stiff dose of firewhiskey, a cursory glance at his lesson plans so he could tell the Headmaster of course he'd gone over them, and bed. But of course, as always, it was not to be.

"I suppose you think you're being clever," the acid tones of his House Founder came from the painting above the small fireplace. Severus looked up and scowled, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

"I don't need to deal with this right now," he informed Salazar in rather a grumpy tone. "I've got a headache, I'm exhausted, surely this can wait."

"Well, if the welfare of your students is that far beneath you, then certainly," Salazar retorted snippily, leaning against the edge of the frame and looking at Snape with disdain. "Personally, I thought you were more than that."

"What are you talking about?" Severus asked in confusion, anger creeping into his mind. He did his best for the wretched brats, Slytherin House or no.

"Potter," Salazar drawled the word out. "Or had you forgotten you shattered his trust in adults? I believe I told you to fix things, did I not? Is this your version of fixing things? Avoid him at every possible opportunity, and pretend he doesn't exist the rest of the time?"

"I've been busy," Severus snapped out defensively. "You wouldn't understand. There are-things at this school..."

"Oh, you mean like the Sorcerer's Stone that the Headmaster, in his esteemed wisdom, is keeping under the third floor corridor?" Salazar sneered at Severus's look of surprise. "Oh, come on. Portraits are everywhere. We hear everything. I get around." The man shrugged. "Not to mention your DADA professor. Has no one noticed the stench of Dark magic around him? It's so heavy even I can smell it, and I don't have a working sense of smell anymore."

"It's delicate!" Severus said. "Of course Albus knows that something is wrong with the man...it's just...what."

"Well, I can't tell by who or what, but the man is almost certainly possessed," Salazar said conversationally as he brushed off his painted robes. "I'd start with that. Not to mention there is no question he's trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone."

"Any idiot knows that," Severus said dryly.

"Indeed," Salazar smirked. "But that's not the problem at hand, now is it. The problem at hand would be what you're going to do with Harry Potter when at the present moment, he'd rather have a Dementor's assistance than yours."

Severus winced, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

"That bad?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. Salazar merely nodded, looking rather grim for a painting.

"You know," Severus continued. "You never used to talk so much. Or get so involved with what was going on around the school."

"Things are changing, Snape," the Founder of Slytherin House said shortly. "Fate-destiny-call it what you will. I would be remiss in my duties as Founder were I to ignore them. The Potter boy is special. He has the power to change destiny."

"He's eleven years old, he barely has the power to change his pants!" Severus scowled. Instead of looking angry, as he had expected Slytherin to be at his outburst, the Founder merely looked amused.

"Indeed," Salazar nodded. "And you are one of the few people who sees him that way. As a child, not a legend. But even as a child, there are forces working to propel him to his destiny, and that is something you cannot change. What you can change, however, is the way you've been treating him. Apologise. Work to understand him. You, of all people, should know how it feels when familial abuse is disclosed."

Severus flushed a dull red before looking away, saying nothing. He didn't want to think about that, about when Madam Pomfrey had told the Headmaster, in stridently angry tones, of Tobias Snape and the effect his drunken temper had on one small, gangly, third-year Slytherin.

Of the way Albus Dumbledore had turned his head and done nothing.

"You of all people should know how it starts," Salazar continued softly. "Of wanting nothing more than to show them that they have no power to hurt you anymore. That you are safe. That you can...hurt them back...And if you let Harry Potter continue down that road, he will become a Dark Lord greater than Grindelwald."

"But I can't do anything," Severus whispered, staring down at his hands. "The boy hates me."

"Thinks he hates you," Salazar corrected. "He is angry. Lost, bereft. He thought he could depend on you, and you have frightened him, although he will never admit it. But there are other effects of abuse-and scars that simply won't heal-and you know as well as I do that the Granger girl is right."

"What?" Severus blinked, startled at the turn the conversation had taken. "What are you talking about?"

"She is concerned about her friend," Salazar said quietly. "I shall not betray the boy's trust, but I urge you-do not dismiss her concerns, her theories, merely because she is young."

"It sounds insane," Severus said, shaking his head. "How can one person...have other people in their head? It sounds like-something the Dark Lord would do." He shuddered, feeling the responding ache in the Dark Mark on his left arm.

Salazar shook his head, impatient, angry.

"No," he insisted, looking fiercer than Severus had ever seen him. "No, do not ever mistake this for the work of a Dark wizard or witch, it is brilliant. A way for a child to cope with unimaginable trauma. Unimaginable horrors. It is Light, through and through, no matter what fools may fear. Regardless of whether or not Harry Potter has it, do not ever think it is Dark, Severus Snape."

"I won't," Severus said slowly, startled at Slytherin's vehemence.

"Good," Salazar nodded. "Now-don't you think you have a meeting with a certain first year to coordinate?"

And with that, the House Founder disappeared from the portrait, leaving behind a still exhausted and very stunned Potions professor.

He had a lot of thinking to do.