“What’s up freak?” a crudely obese boy closed on Potter’s dramatic smaller frame, followed by a few jeering children trailing behind him. Severus watched with idle annoyance, already wishing that his shift were over. He had better things to do, and babysitting Potter was not on the list.

Potter didn’t look up to greet the other boy. The Gryffindor was too busy unweeding the front porch by hand in his over grown clothes to take on the bait.

“What? Are you deaf?” there was a slight body slam, as the other boy shoved Potter sideways into the grass. Potter shifted back on his knees and resumed his chore.

“That would explain all the screaming,” the boy continued, garnering a chuckle from one of the mindless goons following him around. Severus couldn’t possibly be any more bored. Teenage tussle, how very quaint.

“All night long, screaming the walls down ‘Oh please oh please don’t kill Mommy and Daddy!’” the chuckles morphed into jeers and still Potter didn’t look up from the ground. Severus frowned from his hiding place, just across the street under a disillusionment charm. The obese boy must be Petunia’s brat then, he concluded, how else would he know about potter’s nightmares?

“Oh please, not him, don’t kill him!” Petunia’s son squealed in what Severus assumed must have been Potter’s voice. Interesting, he drawled in his mind. He hadn’t expected anyone to bully the boy here, but surely, Petunia herself would put a stop to it when she heard the boys.

“Like a bitch.” A loud catcall encouraged the Whale sized boy to keep going. “Who’re you screaming for Potter? Cedric,” he spat the name like a curse word.

“Who’s this Cedric you keep screaming for, your boyfriend?” the jeers got louder and louder and yet, Potter’s frame remained relatively passive, Severus could only detect a slight tremble in his hand as he pulled on the weed.

“Where’s he? Is he with your mother down in hell? Is he dead? Is he dead like her?” the words appalled Severus, shocking the man into grasping his wand tighter in his hand and surging hatred into his vein. Who was this nasty piece of shit to insult Lily that way? And why was Potter doing nothing about it? Severus wasn’t exactly excited about an all-out brawl, but he expected the boy to have some level of pride over his mother at least.

“Don’t worry freak,” the boy delivered a swift kick to Potter’s side, unbalancing him once again. “You’d be there yourself soon enough, with your dead mother and boyfriend.”

When they saw Potter’s lack of reaction, the other boys whispered something into Petunia’s son and then they all turned and left, all of them cursing or taunting Potter in some way, as the other boy unheeded them, continued on with a blank face, and no indications of having even heard the group.

After five more minutes of water silently working under the blazing sun, Potter stood slowly, grabbed the sack filled with garden rubbish and dumped it in the garbage can. Snape watched as Potter threw one last glance to the house, and without as much as washing his face, wandered down the street.
Severus watched with narrowed eyes as the boy reached into his over large pockets and pulls out a silver case, toying with it in his hand as he swiftly makes his way to the park nearby. The potion master subtly matched his pace.

His mind was still reeling from the earlier encounter the boy had with his cousin, the cruel words and Potter’s trembling hands at the forefront of his mind no matter how hard he tried to occlude the intruding images.

He trailed after the determined boy until they reached the vacant playground, the grass and greenery a washed out yellow, scorched by the unexpected blazing sun and lack of proper care. The playground toys looked ancient, including the seesaw that had gone beyond rusty and the swings that dramatically rocked even though the breeze was so weak that it couldn’t even be called as such.

Potter, completely oblivious and pensive looking settled in one of the swings, his head leaned against the chain. Curiously, Severus frowned and stepped closer to the boy.

With practiced ease, Potter flipped the shiny silver case open and pulled out the last thing the potion master was expecting, a long expensive looking cigarette and a black lighter from his pocket. The man’s stoic features broke into an owlish look as he watched Potter fit the cigarette between his lips.

Harry caught the vogue between two fingers, drawing in the first bit of smoke, and forcefully exhaling as the rush of nicotine spread in his body, relaxing his tensed shoulders and breaking his frown. With raised eyebrows, Severus could only watch as the young man shamelessly resumed smoking, his hand, which was previously trembling whilst talking to his cousin was steady and firm. Severus could tell this habit hadn’t been recent.

The boy looked as if he had been craving it all morning long, waiting and itching to get away from his relatives for some fresh air, and from the looks of it, it wasn’t even the first time Potter had indulged in the comfort it offered. It made Severus question why none of the order members hadn’t mentioned this at any of the meetings.

He doubted Albus, or even Lupin knowing about this. Potter was a fifteen year old boy, not a fifty year old man, although, Severus had to admit, he smoked with the grace and resignation of an old man anyway.

The pungent smell of cigar filled Severus’ nostrils, making the man sneer in disgust. He wasn’t one to smoke, or drink. As a victim of his father’s fist of abominations, half of Severus’ childhood was formed by cigarettes and the stench of alcohol and the other half was the physical abuse, so the potion master highly preferred not reliving his childhood by inflicting both indulgencies on himself.

Potter idly rocked the swing with the tips of his worn sneakers, his eyes glazed and looking far off into the distance and his mouth automatically blowing out puffs of smoke in graceful arcs one after the other.

It got to a point that Severus really thought of intervening, and so with a swish of his wand, and still farther away from Potter’s direct line of sight Severus dropped his disillusionment charm and crossed his arms.

“You didn’t need to drop those,” Potter idly called at him, jostling the affronted man. “You should keep your cover in case muggles are around.” Potter’s cigarette was almost reaching the butt now, and the boy actually looked forlorn about it.

Severus gritted his teeth. “Just what in the name of merlin do you think you’re doing Potter?” he walked up to the swings and stood in front of the insolent boy, blocking his path and bringing the rocking to an abrupt stop.

Potter had the audacity to ROLL his eyes at Severus before he offered his cigarette case up to the man. “If you wanted one, you should have just asked sir,” Potter said. Severus snatched the-Surprisingly heavy- case from his hand and growled.

“Smoking now are we? Potter you are a disgrace.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Alright.” He said nonchalantly. “Can I have that back now?”

“No Potter,” Snape seethed. “You cannot have these back! Smoking cigarettes like a delinquent and dressed in rags, what’s next on your list Potter, drugs?” he was angry with himself and with Albus for not noticing Potter’s habit sooner, one didn’t just form a smoking habit such as this out of blue.
He was right, as always, Albus favored and pampered the boy to the point that it was ridiculous. No wonder the brat had been getting away with so much; Severus honestly wouldn’t have been surprised to find something worse. Grouching his teeth, Severus watched Potter’s indifference with narrowed eyes as he cursed the boy in his head. Let him look smug all he wanted, Snape thought, because at the end of the day he would take these as evidence, throw them in Albus’ face and prove all those idiotic members right.

Potter, their innocent, good doer hero, wasn’t much above the law after all.

“It isn’t school time,” Potter pointed out. “You can’t confiscate my personal belongings.”

“Watch me Potter, you indolent brat, just-.”

“Just like my father, yes thank you.” Harry flippantly shook his hand in the air. “You do realize that I have another one at home right?” he pointed at the silver case. “You’re not exactly taking much here Snape. This was almost empty anyway.”

Severus fumed. “Why you-.”

“I’m just saying.” Harry shrugged, his head leaning back against the chain, as he dropped the cigarette butt by his feet and crunched it down into the grass with the tip of his foot.

Severus felt his hatred toward the boy surge in his veins faster than blood, his hands twitching as the urge to throttle some sense into the boy grew more urgent. Severus firmly slammed the thought down; physical violence was not the answer. He knew that first hand.

Not only that, but smoking or not, Albus and the order would have his head if there was as much as a scratch on their trophy boy. Severus stifled down his rage, taking a deep breath before calmly pocketing the evidence.

“You won’t look as smug when I report this to the headmaster Potter, trust me; you won’t see the end of it. Albus Dumbledore doesn’t take kindly to fifteen-year old brats such as you abusing cheap roll-ups and alcohol in his school. Not even you are exempt from that rule.”

Harry’s eyes opened into thin slits, the green in his eyes almost luminous as the afternoon sun reverberated off his glasses “Those are actually Vogue Cigs, not cheap roll-ups as you put it,” the boy straightened up. “They’re quite expensive. Most say they’re for women, but I like this one better than Marlboro. That one’s too bitter.”

“You know your tastes don’t you?” Severus sarcastically muttered.

Potter grinned at him. “I like liking the things I like.”

“If you knew I, or at least an order member was keeping watch on you why did you even do it Potter? Are you that arrogant to believe that I wouldn’t tell Professor Dumbledore about this?”

“I knew because there is always a guard, and no, it doesn’t matter if he knows or not, feel free to tell him. Although I would really appreciate it if you returned the case sir.”

“I will not Potter, this is evidence now. One that I will present to the order and the headmaster so they can see how to deal with a fifteen year old that smokes.”

“Well, good, at least then someone would come here for me.”

“So this was a ploy, attention seeking were you?”

Potter pressed his lips together as if stifling a laugh. “Yeah Professor, I just picked up smoking for attention.” Severus pointedly ignored the sarcasm in his voice. He would deal with Potter’s rudeness after his interrogation was over.

“How did you even get these?” Potter’s rocking came to a halt, his eyebrows raised above his hairline.

“With money, a little bit of browsing and good taste. As I said, I like these better than the other ones.” Harry looked down at the squashed butt cig with regret, almost as if he wished he could revive the thing back and light it again. This was not a new addiction, Severus realized. What confounded him, was that if by fifteen, smoking wasn’t new to Potter, then at what age it was, and how in the name of merlin, had the boy managed to get away with it in school.

Potter looked at the cigarettes as if they were his anchor; there was no way that boy didn’t take them to the school with him.

“And the store just sells you these? To a fifteen year old?”

“People would sell anything to anyone if they have enough money,”

Severus didn’t stifle the jeer he aimed at the brat. It abhorred him, how much the boy resembled James Potter Senior, even in the way he spoke. Up on a throne, arrogant and all knowing, as if he were the adult in charge and Severus an annoyance. “Then you’re not even responsible enough to handle your own expenses.” He snapped at the boy.

“Are you happy now sir?”

“Why should I be happy that you’re a spoiled brat just as I suspected?”

The boy waved his hand. “Because it feels good to be right.”

Right.

Severus didn’t have time for this, his shift would be over soon, and he would rather get all his facts right before storming to Albus’ office. Kettleburn was an idiot, so Severus needed to use every spare second he had left to get as much information about the boy as he could.

“Why do you smoke?”

“Because I like it, because they relax me, they help me sleep, because I love the smell and the taste of nicotine…so many other reasons really.”

“Well, I regret to inform you the one you just finished was the last one you will ever smoke Potter, Albus won’t stand for this.”

“Sure.”

Severus’ face stretched in a cruel smile. He would die to see the moment Potter’s face would crumple in anguish and disappointment the second the potion master busts him out to the headmaster and his gushing fan club. “Of course, the moment they realize your dirty little secret they come for your stash too, so don’t give me that look Potter. You’re not on the winning side here.”

Potter titled his head, staring at the ground. “There are no winning sides, in anything , you should know that Professor.”

“Save your theatrics for The Order boy, tell me when did it start?”

“What, the smoking?” Harry innocently looked up at him.

Snape snorted. “No, when you started doing ballet-yes Potter, obviously!”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t dance sir,”

“Answer the question.” Severus snapped.

“After he died.” Potter admitted in a whisper.

“Who?”

“Cedric Diggory. Obviously .”

“That’s when it started then? You just wandered into a store and bought these?”

“No,” the boy calmly answered. “I stole one from one of Dudley’s friends, tasted and smelled like shit. Now that was a cheap roll-up.” Severus narrowed his eyes at the bold call back to their earlier argument and found himself rolling his eyes.

“So then I wandered into the store, and asked for something that wasn’t cheap.”

“Tear jerking story Potter.” He crossed his arms.

Potter scoffed at him. “Well you asked for it.”

“And you’ve been doing this every day since?”

“I do it when I feel like it Snape.”

“Professor Snape.” He corrected the brat.

“Sure. I do it when I feel like it Professor Snape.” Potter’s face went slack, his mouth curling down. When he stared at Severus, the potion master felt like lily’s eyes were looking right through him. Potter’s hands fisted around the chains.

“I watched a boy die in front of me,” he said in a low voice. “A boy, that by proxy, I killed too. I was tortured and then forced to duel the bastard who killed my parents, if I want to smoke, I’ll smoke.”

“Teen angst and trauma then,” Snape concluded cruelly, drawing satisfaction as a flash of hurt passed through Potter’s eyes.

“I don’t care past this point Potter. You can save your sob story for Albus and the others.”

Potter looked him dead in the eyes. “One day, when I’m finished with HIM, I’ll come for you too.” He said slowly, emphasizing on each word with great care.

“Is that a threat?” the stupid brat dared to threaten him? To this extent? Severus would have none of this anymore, the moment he left for Albus’ office, he would run Potter’s reputation down to the ground, he would show that moron some respect and discipline, show him who the one in charge was Severus Snape.

The boy was rude, arrogant, and addict, and now threatening him- an adult- with crude violence. Severus knew he would be shooting for the stars, but those allegations would have gotten any other students expelled in a heartbeat. He only hoped that the compelling evidence and Dumbledore’s common sense would result in an expulsion as well.

He glared down at Potter and the boy glared back at him.

“You won’t say what I’m about to tell you to anyone, so feel free to consider it a threat Snape.” Harry stood, his height only coming up to Snape’s chest, but the look on his face radiating power and authority. Something that Snape had not been expecting. The look on Potter’s face was old, endured, like a weathered Auror coming from battle.

Harry leaned up against him, his voice barely above a whisper. “One night, when you’re sleeping warm and snuggled up without a shred of guilt in you, for torturing me and the likes of me, I will come for you. I will wrap my hands around your stupid neck, and I will press down until I see the light leaving your eyes, without using any magic.”

“I won’t do it because of this, because you caught me red-handed smoking a vogue and then told on me like a child. I’ll do it, because I know what you are. I saw you. In the hospital.”

Snape found it hard to roll his eyes at the boy. Potter’s mood switch from nonchalant to murderous was startling. “You have no idea what you’re blubbering about Potter,” as he tried to step back away from the boy, Potter’s hand shot out and he grasped his forearm in a death grip.

“I know more than you think.” The boy said. “I know that two-faced snakes like you are no good in a war like this. There are no winning sides in this Snape, but I’ll make sure that you won’t survive long enough to know that.”

“Potter, I’m going to give you two seconds to unhand me or-.”

“Or what?” Potter’s hold on his arm loosened nonetheless. Severus felt the touch physically burning on his clothed arm, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Potter. “I know what you’re capable of Snape. I get the pleasure of seeing your buddies enjoying their job in your absence almost every night.” Harry’s lip curled down. “It’s vile, what they do to people, and what you would do too, in the name of keeping your cover.”

Finally, Severus stepped back, gathering his wits about him and all the more ready to leave the blasted boy alone. His shift was almost over anyway. “Stop talking, this instance Potter.”

“That’s why I smoke, in a way.” Potter continued, unheeding him. “You and your Death eater friends drive me to smoke." Harry paused slightly. "You want to know why none of the Order members watching over me never said anything about the smoking. Even Remus?”

“Why is that Potter?”

Harry laughed bitterly, not an ounce of humor in his voice. “The same reason why you stood by and let Dudley and his buddies have a go at me Snape.” Potter watched with morbid satisfaction as Snape’s eyes widened a fraction and the man stepped back. The boy stared at him, daring Severus to apologize, to make an excuse or simply rebuke him, and Severus saw right through it. He remained speechless and Potter remained impassive.

Slowly, as the sun was starting to set and the swings whining with the wind, Potter slowly extended his hand. “Give me back my cigarettes and leave.” He looked at the sky. “Your shift is over.”

Severus reached a hand into his robe pocket and drew out the silver case. Silently, he dropped it in Potter’s waiting hand. Harry immediately flipped it open and drew the last Cigar to put between his lips. Without sparing him a single glance, the fifteen-year old turned and left.