It had been a long, busy school week and Severus had seen little of Harry Potter since their last meet outside his office. Which he didn’t mind at all; he could go even longer without having to see the Potter brat. It had been nice not having to concern himself with the boy. But Friday rolled around and he had to teach the first year Gryffindor and Slytherin potions class. Wonderful.

               He would have them work on the forgetfulness potion as practice for their final. Hopefully they would remember to brew it after all that time. It would test not only their memory and brewing skills, but also how well they studied the material they learned throughout the year. Despite feeling that all they needed to do was study enough for one test and forget the information, the students will quickly learn to absorb and retain as much as they could throughout the year.

               Severus ignored the first years as they entered the classroom. He focused on finishing up his grading for his fifth year Monday class. Once the bell rang, he stood, glancing around the room to see who wasn’t there (it was easier than taking roll call once he memorized all the students) and then began his lesson.

               “I will collect your homework now. Please have them out on your desk.”

               Once everyone had shuffled through their bags and parchment was lying on everyone’s desks, Severus summoned the papers to his desk. It looked as though everyone completed the homework. Good, then they should all be able to answer his questions. 

               “Today you will be brewing the Forgetfulness Potion,” Severus flicked his wand at the board, which began writing out the instructions. “Can anyone tell me what a Forgetfulness Potion is for?”

               The Granger girl’s hand shot up into the air. No one else raised their hands. Of course, Severus sneered in his mind.

               “Mr. Longbottom, can you tell me what a Forgetfulness Potion is for?”

               The boy paled and looked around at his fellow Gryffindors. Hermione waved her hand in the air, trying hard to refrain from spitting out the answer.

               “Err,” Neville began, “to cause memory loss?”

               “Broadly, yes, but can someone tell me what the potion might be used for exactly?”

               Hermione waved her hand even more, calling to Severus, “Sir?”

               Severus sighed. Clearly the homework was pointless. He might as well indulge the girl before she exploded in her seat. Not that she needed to answer but perhaps the class might learn better from a fellow student. “Miss Granger?”

               The young girl cleared her throat, “The Forgetfulness Potion was originally invented by wizard spies during the Global Wizarding War as a way to keep information from their enemies without resorting to a memory charm or suicide. It is now more commonly used as medical treatment to forget traumatic events and treat anxiety disorders, though multiple doses are not recommended because excess potion in the body can make organs forget how to function. It may also be used by the Obliviator Headquarters on muggles who have witnessed a magical event that cannot be explained through any muggle means. It is favorable to the memory charm as that can have disastrous results.”

               And this is exactly why he never let her answer. Besides the fact that he knew Hermione knew the answers. Severus gritted his teeth as the know-it-all finally stopped talking. What was wrong with a simple one-sentence answer?

               “We could have done without the history lesson, Miss Granger. But I do hope that your classmates wisely wrote down every word you said for future reference.”

               That got everyone in the classroom scrambling for parchment and quills to quickly scribble down what they remembered from Hermione’s speech, if they had been paying attention at all. Severus gave them a minute of writing before continuing.

               “Now, can someone name the three key ingredients of the Forgetfulness Potion?”

               Hermione’s hand was back in the air, but Severus really wasn’t in the mood for any background information on the ingredients. “Mr. Weasley?” he glared at the redhead.

               “Me? Uhh, the three key ingredients are . . . uhh,” Ron looked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes at him and waved her hand higher in the air. “I don’t know, sir.”

               “How disappointing?” Severus sneered. “It was in your homework. Or did you simply copy off Miss Granger’s?”           

               Ron’s face turned as red as his hair.

               “Mr. Potter, what are the three key ingredients of the Forgetfulness Potion?”

               “Umm, mistletoe berries and err . . .” Harry gulped as he tried to remember what the key ingredients were. Severus frowned but waited to see if the boy would remember completely. Potions had after all been one of Lily’s favorite classes, though that didn’t mean Harry would favor the class at all – or be anywhere half as descent.

               “I’ll answer the question for you, Professor,” Draco said, raising his hand.

               Severus sighed. He was sure Draco had just looked through his book for the answers since he was trying to sneakily close up his bag. But Severus had a role to play, especially considering how many of the Slytherins parents were Death Eaters. And he would have to play favorites with his house.

               “Very well, Mr. Malfoy,” Severus inclined his head.

               “Mistletoe berries, Valerian sprigs, and Lethe River Water.”

               “Very good. Five points to Slytherin.”

               Severus didn’t miss the angry look Hermione sent Draco’s way. He knew why – she didn’t get points for answering. But she received enough points from the other professors to make up for it. Severus simply told the students a few more facts on the potion instead of asking questions then had them get to work. There were no problems encountered during the first half of brewing.

               But the peace was never meant to last long.

               As he helped show a couple Slytherins how to properly crush mistletoe berries using a pestle, he heard Hermione snap at someone:

               “No, no! You’re supposed to stir it three times clockwise before you add the Standard Ingredient! Here, let me see if I can . . . oh, no! Back up, back up!”

               Severus turned around just in time to see an angrily bubbling cauldron start fizzling and splattering out of control. Hermione had managed to back everyone away from it but one boy – the ruined potion’s creator. Severus sighed as the potion splattered all over Harry, who managed to raise his arms in time to cover his face. The potion ate away at the boy’s sleeves.

               “Ow!” Harry hissed as Severus was sure the potion had eaten through the robe and gotten on Harry’s skin. Harry reached to touch his sleeves.

               “Potter, no,” Severus snapped stepping towards the boy and raising a hand to catch Harry’s wrist and stop him from touching any part of the potion.

               However, as he did that, Harry backed up a step and raised his arms protectively over his head, flinching and closing his eyes for a second. He quickly seemed aware of what he was doing and opened his eyes and relaxed his arms. Severus just stared at him, narrowing his eyes. Harry looked down and blushed.

               “What did you think I was going to do, Potter?”

               Harry’s cheeks reddened more and he shrugged his shoulder, saying, “I don’t know.”

               Severus frowned. The boy had quick reflexes – he’d give him that. But it was oddly . . . concerning. As if Harry had been expecting to be slapped across the face or even beat down on. But what would make him draw to that conclusion? He had made a mess of himself and from what he heard Hermione say, it had been a mistake. He would have to have Harry redo the potion so that he had some chance of passing come finals but . . .

               “Potter’s afraid of Professor Snape!”

               Here we go, Severus thought and he sighed and crossed his arms, staring at Harry as Draco Malfoy began his childish behavior. Well, Draco was still technically a child, but a bully of one at that. The other Slytherins snickered and joined in.

               “What a coward!”

               “Does the scary Potions Master frighten you, Potty?”

               “Aww, does Potter have a boo-boo?” Draco smirked. “Does he need his mummy to kiss it for him? Oh – oops! My bad.”

               “That’ll do, Mr. Malfoy,” Severus growled. Harry looked as though his face might burn off. “Potter, to my office.”

Severus waited until Harry had left the classroom. He’d have to be quick with his instructions –knowing how well Harry was at following directions. He didn’t want Harry to take advantage of his absence and leave the dungeons.  

               “The rest of you, finish your potions. Make sure you correctly label the vials with your last name then first, the type of potion, and today’s date. Do not leave this room until I return to dismiss you.”

               Severus left the students with that. He probably really shouldn’t leave first years alone, but they were all almost complete. Besides, that Hermione Granger girl was in there. At least one student knew what she was doing. He was sure she could take charge and make sure the other students (at least the Gryffindors) did as he said.

               Severus walked down the hall to his office where Harry was standing outside the door.

               “Sorry I didn’t go in,” Harry immediately began. “It was locked and I couldn’t . . .”

               “I am well aware,” Severus said, grabbing the handle and opening it. The door was spelled to know his touch. “In.”

               Harry scurried in and Severus closed the door behind them.

               “Take off your robe and let’s see your arm,” Severus commanded, moving to a shelf and scanning the vials of potions he had.

               “Shouldn’t I go see Madam Pomfrey?” Harry questioned, hesitating to take off his robe.

               “I assure you I’m about to do everything she would do, minus the full body physical. Besides, if I send you to her, you probably wouldn’t even go see her.”

               “You don’t know that.”

               “Then enlighten me, Potter. If I sent you to her this minute, would you go see her?”

               “. . . yes.”

               “You hesitated. You would not. And for what reason? Avoid being healed so you can keep your battle scars? To do everything yourself back at your dorm?” 

               Harry shrugged, softly saying, “Sometimes it’s just easier to do things myself.”

               Severus rolled his eyes with a snort as he found the potion he was looking for. “Like healing yourself?” he asked.

               “I’ve done it before.”

               The innocent statement caused Severus to inhale sharply as he found himself thrown into another flashback.

Ten-year-old Severus picked up the hose and sprayed it down his back, hissing as the freezing water splashed at the open lacerations. It was a cold October, and while he had the appropriate clothing (his mother provided when she could or remembered), he had to take his warm sweater and jacket off to clean his back. He made sure to stay out of sight, behind the restroom building at the park. As long as no other parents or kids ran behind the restrooms, he should be fine.

               Severus turned the knob over to the warm side and turned up the water pressure. The water remained freezing, however, and he shivered as the fall wind blew harshly around him. He turned the hose off and picked up one of the vials he had snatched from his mother’s supply closet.

               His father had fallen into one of his moods again, taking out his anger from being fired at work out on his son. It was always Severus’s fault – his father being fired, his father being poor, his father being drunk out of his mind. Severus was just a freak in Tobias’s eyes and a burden. He wasn’t wanted. Most of the time, Tobias acted like Severus didn’t even exist. But when a day goes wrong for the man, the belt comes out and the hunt for his son’s whereabouts is on.

               Severus had thought he had gotten rather good at predicating when his father’s mood would change, but he couldn’t predict everything that would happen in Tobias’s life. He just had to be sure he was either out of the house or somewhere safe and hidden. Though doing so only put off when his father would lash out.

               And his mother never did a thing to interfere and put an end to the beatings. She would walk away until it was over or remind him once again why it is important to stay on Tobias’s good side. She would sometimes help him bathe and clean any wounds, but most of the time, she left the house completely. Severus remembered she had tried to defend him once when he was really little. That had ended poorly for both of them.

               It didn’t matter. Severus could take care of himself now. He didn’t need her help.

               Severus opened the vial and dumped it down his back. He could feel the potion drip down and barely touch the wounds. He tried to reach back and rub the potion where it need to go, but it was always the tricky part.

               “Severus!”

               Severus froze, his breath catching in his throat. He tried to keep as still and as quiet as he could.

               “Sev! I know you’re here! I saw you walk this way. Are you behind there again?”

               Severus backed up a couple steps but before he could hide on the side of the building, his seeker poked her head around the side, staring right at him with her large emerald eyes. He sighed and crossed his arms, a bit humiliated at having her see him like this.

               “Go away, Lily,” Severus snapped.

               “You’re hurt,” Lily said, joining him behind the building. “Was it your dad again?”

               “None of your business. Just leave me alone. I’m trying to do something.”

               “You need help,” Lily insisted, trying to get behind Severus to see his back but he kept turning away. “You can’t rub the potion in by yourself. Let me help you!”

               “I can take care of myself. I’ve done it before. Stop it! Go find your sister or something.”

               “Will you stop it, Severus Snape!” Lily stomped her foot. “Let me help you or I’m telling Mum!”

               Severus blanched. He definitely didn’t want Mrs. Evans to see him like this. How embarrassing.

               “Fine!” Severus allowed Lily to move around him. “You know, it’s easier if I just do it myself.”

               “Sometimes you need someone to help,” Lily said, wincing at the sight of her friend’s back. She gently began rubbing the potion in on the wounds, being careful not to put too much pressure on them. “And these look like they hurt. Was it that bad again? You should tell someone . . .”

               “NO!” Severus nearly shouted. He felt Lily yank her hands back, startled. He sighed. “Sorry, it just wouldn’t do any good. Trust me on that, okay?”

               “Okay,” Lily continued rubbing the potion in, noticing how much Severus was shivering. She smiled. “Hey, my mum’s making a thick pea and ham soup for dinner tonight. It’s so good and it’ll warm you right up! You should come join us. Mum and Dad won’t mind. They love company.”

               Severus smiled. “Sounds good.”

               “Sir?” Severus blinked and his eyes focused on Harry once more. “Sorry, you were doing it again. Kind of just staring off into . . . umm, do you do that a lot?”

               “It seems to be becoming a tendency, doesn’t it?” Severus said. “Take off your robe. Let’s have a look at your arms.”

               Harry slowly pulled off his robe, wincing as the sleeves slid along his arms. Severus waited patiently while Harry set the robe on the desk and presented his arms. The potion had soaked through the robe and ate away at the boy’s skin, leaving second degree burns. Both arms were red and swollen and blisters were forming. Severus opened the vial and gently poured a generous amount on Harry’s right arm first, then gently rubbed the potion in, remembering how gentle Lily had been.

               It was rather awkward, the silence between them. Severus glanced at Harry, but the boy avoided eye contact, just watched what he was doing with the potion. Severus cleared his throat.

               “If you had been further along in the process and the potion had spilled on you, you would be suffering some memory damage as well.”

               Harry’s head snapped up and his eyes widened.

               “Do you have a potion for that?” Harry asked.

               Severus snorted. Of course, the boy would ask such a question.

               “No, but Madam Pomfrey would know how to help you,” Severus answered, moving on to Harry’s other arm. “It is then that I would have more logical reason to send you to her. Of course, I’d probably walk you there myself. You might not even remember where the hospital wing is. Be glad it is easier to cure than being hit by a memory charm. Potions are easy to wipe out of the body, spells and charms are not.”

               Harry watched amazed as the burns on his arm healed. He watched Severus with his other arm.

               “If the potion is that dangerous, though, why are we brewing it?”

               “Because it is generally not dangerous to brew. It’s rather hard to really cause any disaster with this particular potion and it is quick and easy to complete. But, of course, you would find a way to disprove that, wouldn’t you?”

               “I didn’t mean to mess it up,” Harry insisted, watching as the burns healed over on his other arm. Severus put away the potion. “I was doing my best. Sometimes I skip over an instruction – I don’t mean to – I just . . .”

               “Accidents happen, Potter,” Severus said. “But you will have to redo the potion. I’ll give you a choice: come back tonight and finish it or tomorrow evening and finish it.”

               “Tonight, sir. I just want to get it done and over with.”   

               “Is that so? Very well, come back in something other than your nice robes. Perhaps a spill on something old will save me from having to repair them.”

               Severus flicked his wand at Harry’s robe, fixing the sleeves.

               “Thanks, sir,” Harry smiled, pulling his robe back on.

               “One more thing,” Severus said. “Your reaction in the classroom. You have quite the reflexes.”

               “Umm . . . thanks?”

               “It wasn’t really a compliment. I want to know what you thought I was going to do. And don’t give me an ‘I don’t know.’”

               “Why does it matter?” Harry said, his face burning red. “I didn’t really think at all. You just moved quickly – it startled me.”

               “Did it?”

               “Yeah. Anyone would react like that.”

               Severus suddenly reached out and snapped his fingers inches in front of Harry’s face. Harry jumped and raised his hands slightly near his face as if he planned to cover his face. He caught himself in time and lowered his hands, willing his body to be less tense. He tried not to blush.

               “What was that for?”

               “It was a test,” Severus explained. “A normal reaction would be to blink and perhaps pull your head back a bit. You jumped and tried to protect yourself. Care to explain?”

               “There’s nothing to explain,” Harry snapped. “I scare easily.”

               “Didn’t seem that way when you faced that mountain troll.”

               “So what?”

               “Watch yourself,” Severus warned. He sighed. He wasn’t really getting anywhere with the boy. If he kept pushing, the child might end up throwing a tantrum in his office. No need to have any broken values and have to carry out a punishment. Besides, he had a class to get back to. “I’ll see you tonight at seven. And do not be late. Head back to class.”

               Harry quickly slipped out of the office.

               Severus rubbed at his face. Maybe the boy did scare easily. He couldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions. But the way the boy reacted earlier had just reminded him so much of – what was he saying? Severus shook the thoughts away and headed back to the classroom to dismiss the class.

Later that evening, Harry arrived on time (thankfully) to the potions classroom with his robe on but Severus figured he’d take it off once he began. Severus had set up all the ingredients he would need and pulled down a cauldron. He wrote instructions on a separate parchment and placed it near the cauldron.

               “Since you tend to make the mistake of skipping instructions,” Severus told Harry as the boy stood in front of the cauldron, “I would like you to cross off each action as you perform it. You may want to start copying the instructions down in class as well.”

               “Yes, sir.”

               “Take off your robe and begin.”

               Harry shrugged out of his robe and Severus frowned at what the boy was wearing. Yes, he had told Harry to have something old on but not something decrepit. The clothes were practically tatters, the shirt swallowing the boy and it was short sleeved – it was November for crying out loud. It was cold in the dungeons. At least the pants were long, but they were in no better shape. Besides, it appeared as if Harry had to wrap a belt around him twice to keep them up.

               “What are you wearing?” Severus snapped.

               Harry looked down at what he was wearing and blushed. “You said to wear something old, sir. These are just the oldest things I have so I wore them. They can get ruined for all I care.”

               “When I said old, I would think you’d remember weather appropriate as well.”

               “I’m okay.” The boy couldn’t lie any worse! He was shivering.

               “You’ll catch your death down here.”

               “Well, you wanted me to wear something old.”

               “Old doesn’t usually include falling off, Potter. And those clothes don’t even look your size.”

               “So what? They’re all I have!” Harry snapped. Then he seemed to realize his mistake. “I mean, all I have with me . . . right now, anyway.”

               “These are the only clothes you have from home with you?”

               “Well, I have a nicer shirt and all, but I bought those for school. I really didn’t think ahead when I went shopping with Hagrid to buy long sleeved shirts and pants for winter.”

               “You shouldn’t have had to buy them. You could have brought clothes from home.”

               “Well, I don’t really have . . . I mean, I forgot to.”

               “Careless,” Severus snaps. He summoned another plain parchment and a quill and handed them to Harry. “Here. Write a letter to your relatives and ask to have some weather appropriate clothes sent up.”

               Harry’s face blanched. “No,” the child said.

               “Excuse me?”

               “I said no. I won’t write a letter. I . . . I can’t. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don’t really . . . they don’t like owls or stuff like that. Owls . . . freak them out and all and . . .”

               “They’ll have to get over it,” Severus said. “You need your winter attire. It is not healthy to be without it.”

               “No, sir, you don’t understand! They really hate owls! They won’t like one having to go to them and they’ll be mad at me and . . . they probably wouldn’t send anything anyway.”

               “And why wouldn’t they,” Severus was trying hard not to yell at the boy’s foolishness. Harry did seem really desperate to not have a letter sent out. He was on the edge of a panic attack really.

               Harry hesitated to answer, then said, “To teach me a lesson for forgetting.”

               It was a lie. Plain as day. The Golden Boy was lying to a professor – worthy of a detention, loss of points, something! And yet, Severus found that he didn’t want to do anything. He said nothing. He was actually surprised the boy felt the need to lie – and to what gain? What did he have to hide? This little argument they were having was getting them nowhere. Harry clearly didn’t want a letter sent home. Severus wanted to know why – more than anything, it was what was bugging him the most. Harry seemed fearful of the very idea.

               And all the little things the boy had tried to avoid saying. Something was up. And he didn’t like it one bit.

               “Fine,” Severus banished the parchment and ink. “Freeze then. Work on your potion. I want it completed before eight thirty.”

               Harry nodded and started working, remembering to cross off the actions as he completed them. It did seem to help the boy focus on what he was doing and flow better through the process. Once Harry had completed the potion and labeled it correctly, Severus sent him back to his tower.   

               Severus contemplated the situation. The way Harry reacted to adults raising hands towards him, the clothing situation, how small he was, his eating habits, his glasses – something wasn’t right.

               And what better way to solve a situation than to do it yourself?

               Severus found a clean parchment and picked up his quill and began writing.

               Dear Aunt Petunia and Uncle (What had the boy called the man? Ah, yes) Uncle Vernon,

               A professor told me that my clothing is not weather appropriate and told me to write a letter home asking for my winter clothing. Can you please send up any remaining clothes I have? Thanks!

               Harry Potter

               It sounded realistic enough. Not too long and dragging anything out and not too short and demanding.

Severus searched for Harry’s homework from earlier. He used a spell to turn his handwriting into Harry’s by transfiguring the shape and look of his letters into that of Harry’s letters from the homework. He left the dungeons and headed to the owlery. He whistled for his owl when he arrived. A tawny owl, named Castiel, flew down to him.

               “Cas, take this to the Dursley’s, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Return anything they give you to me. Go.”

               Severus watched as Castiel flew into the night. The owl would probably arrive there by morning. Tomorrow would be a revealing day for one Harry Potter.