"Don't listen to her," Ron said. "She's just jealous you figured out where the kitchens were. Tell me next time and I'll come with you."

"Ok," Harry said. He thought it might be fun to go out late at night with Ron to explore the castle, but what if he got caught again by his father? Would the man really be angry with him then, or disappointed? Harry wasn't sure what to think of the man yet and what he'd told him. He'd said it was a secret. A secret that was now Harry's to keep for both of their protection. Voldemort seemed far away though. He'd encountered him as a baby, but he couldn't remember that. Only bright green light and the screaming of his mother in his dreams. That was all he had from that experience. He didn't know what Voldemort looked like, or any of the history of the first war. It seemed too far away to care about, like the stories of King Arthur or other historical figures. Professor Snape... his father thought it was worth worrying about however. Harry watched as Ron poured almost an entire pitcher of sticky syrup onto his waffles. What secrets did Ron have? He bet nothing like this.

In Potions, Harry wasn't sure where to sit that afternoon. The dark eyed, intimidating man had said he had to treat Harry badly for show. What did that mean? Was he going to hit Harry in front of the class? He hoped not. It was bad enough having Uncle Vernon wallop him in private, he didn't want to have others see it happen.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked when Harry went to a table at the front.

"Sitting down for class." Harry wanted to sit closer to the front of the room to study his father's features more. He was beginning to question what the man had told him in the middle of the night. Harry did have jet black hair like him, but that was all. His nose wasn't long and straight like Professor Snape's, and he didn't have black eyes like him either. Snape was tall and intimidating, and Harry was very short and felt like he wouldn't be able to intimidate a snail. Ron reluctantly took a seat beside him just as the door banged open and Snape strode in.

The second he caught sight of Harry, he snapped, "Your tie is a mess like your hair Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Harry locked eyes with him and tried not to look hurt. It's all for show, it's all for show, it's all for show, he repeated to himself. At least he wasn't getting walloped. Am I supposed to act too? What do I do? He didn't tell me. The eyes of the class were on Harry as he stuck his chin up in the air like Dudley would have done (something Harry had never dared to do before), and undid his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck. It was strange to feel bold as he did then suddenly, but also very uncertain. Maybe last night had all been a dream. Maybe Snape had never caught him in the kitchens, and he was just a mean Professor, not his father.

The professor narrowed his eyes and a twisted smile came over his face. "I can see that your rule breaking knows no bounds Mr. Potter. First sneaking about at all hours of the night, and now being defiant. We'll just add another hour onto your detention tonight, shall we?"

Harry held his gaze and the Professor whipped out his wand from his robe so fast that Harry thought the man was actually going to curse him. Harry leaned back in his seat with a look of fear (he could hear Draco laugh across the aisle). But Snape wasn't going to curse him, and Harry actually received a chastising look from the man as he turned and tapped his wand on the blackboard, where instructions for a potion appeared in loopy cursive. Snape began his lesson and Harry stared at his paper, trying to get his heart to slow down. It was beating erratically and he felt stress trying to take control of him. For a moment, it was like he was back at Privet Drive and knew he had done something that had raised his Uncle's ire and willingness to punish him.

Harry messed up his potion because he felt shaky, and he could hear Hermione tutting over his efforts from the table behind him. His only consolation was that Ron hadn't done any better with his potion.

"Rotten luck," Ron said. "Wait til' Fred and George hear what you did. You're braver than I thought."

"What did I do?"

"You undid your tie right in front of him!"

"Oh," Harry mumbled. "I don't know how to do it up and I figured I might as well take it off if it wasn't right." Harry started to pull it the rest of the way off, but just then Hermione walked past them, aimed her wand at Harry's throat, said something under her breath, and Harry's tie magically tied itself so tight that Harry thought he might choke. He loosened it as she turned her back on them and strode away.

"She's mad at you," Ron said.

"I didn't do anything to her."

"Seems like she takes any loss of points or detention as a slight against her."

"Great." Snape had said he would give Harry detentions to keep up appearances. Harry didn't know how often, but this meant that Hermione (or someone else in the house) would always be mad at him.

Harry earned two points in Transfiguration, and Hermione earned five more points in classes by the end of the day. With the few here and there that other first year Gryffindors had gotten, the ten Harry had lost that morning were made up.

"Do you think you can try not to lose any more of our points during detention?" Hermione asked him as Harry got up from the dinner table to go to the Dungeons. Dinner ended at six thirty and his detention was at six thirty five.

"I'm trying not to lose any at any time," Harry said quietly, feeling nervous. Ron gave him a look that said, 'be strong', and Harry left the table. Professor Snape was still at the head table, so at least he knew he wasn't going to be late. As he wandered down to the Dungeons and tried to find Snape's office, he wondered if he was really going to be in trouble for acting defiantly in class that morning, and as the minutes ticked by and he couldn't find the office, he grew more and more worried about it. He looked at Dudley's old cracked wristwatch and felt his stomach squirm. It was six forty. He was five minutes late despite his attempt to get there early.

"Mr. Potter," came a voice from behind him suddenly, and Harry spun around and paled. Snape strode towards him and took his arm (though Harry was surprised by the gentleness of it) and led him around a corner and into an office . As soon as the door was closed, Harry blurted out, "I'm sorry about class this morning! I tried to get here early but I got lost and-!" He was going to babble on some more but the dark eyed Potions Master was holding up a hand to stall his speech and Harry closed his mouth.

"I did not expect you to act this morning, but now that I know you can I expect it to continue in the future. The more strife there seems to be between the two of us, the better. As for being late, it was expected given that you have never been to my office before."

Harry played with his hands. He had felt increasingly nervous all day about this moment, and now that he was here, he didn't know how to stop feeling nervous.

"I- don't know how to do up a tie," he said, not sure of what else to say.

"Come here."

Harry walked to him and Severus reached forward causing Harry to jerk back before stilling. Severus gave him a concerned look but then went on to explain and show Harry the proper way to do up a tie. Harry practiced for a few minutes, and finally had it down.

"That is the second time today that I have seen you flinch back," Severus observed as he went around to the back of his desk to take a seat, and motioned for Harry to sit in one of the visitor's chairs.

"Just- nervous I guess," Harry lied. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. He was always nervous.

"Hm."

"If you would like to spend this time doing your homework, you may do so. I do not wish to rob you of time you need for academics."

"I did it already."

"All of it?"

Harry nodded and pulled his Muggle lined notebooks out of his bag and set them on the desk.

"When did you have time to do your homework?"

"I did some in study hall and the rest at lunch."

"Are you always so studious?"

Harry shrugged. He wouldn't consider himself studious. He'd never been a stellar student. He didn't have time to do his homework at home at Privet Drive though. Usually the moment he came in the door from school Aunt Petunia had him fixing Dudley a snack, doing chores, making dinner, cleaning the dishes, doing laundry... and at school he'd never had any friends, so he spent his lunch hour doing as much homework as he could. It was always enough to get better grades than Dudley, but never enough to get really good grades.

"Perhaps you should have been in Ravenclaw."

"I don't think I'd fit in there very much. I think Hermione would like it there though."

"Miss Granger?"

"She seems mad all the time. I don't think she likes being in Gryffindor. Or maybe she doesn't like that I'm there," Harry said quietly to himself as an afterthought.

"Explain."

"She's mad that I got detention and lost house points."

"If you had truly been defiant I would have taken the points from you. Knowing it was an act however, I returned the points as soon as you had left the room."

"Oh," Harry said. Too bad he couldn't tell Hermione that.

They were silent for almost a full minute and Harry felt awkward. Maybe he should have saved his homework so he could have an excuse not to speak.

"Do you like Gryffindor?" Severus finally asked.

"I like it," Harry said. All of the boys in his year seemed nice, and it was nice to finally have a friend. It was rather exciting really, though Harry didn't feel like telling this man... his new father that. If he did, it would mean explaining why it was exciting and that would mean telling him about the Dursleys, who made it a point not to allow Harry to grow close to anyone.

"And your classes?"

"Charms is interesting. I don't seem to be very good at Potions."

"You seemed... flustered during class."

"Nervous. I'm sorry."

"Do not be. This will be an adjustment. If there are things you prefer I not do or say, you need only to tell me."

"Yes sir."

They talked for a few more minutes (though the conversation was strained and Harry's answers were very short), before Severus finally asked if Harry would like to play a game. Harry agreed and Severus disappeared through a door behind his desk and came back with a game he called Gobstones. It took Harry the rest of their 'detention' to pick the game up, and by the time he left he was smiling. This man who was claiming to be his father didn't seem so bad. He'd shown him how to tie a tie and taught him how to play Gobstones. He wondered if Ron's father played games with him and his siblings.

By the end of the week Harry was feeling uncertain again though. He hadn't earned another detention, but Snape had shouted at him in double Potions class on Friday (twice) and taken five points from him in the hall for having messy hair. Ron also pointed out that Snape was glaring at Harry during meals, and it all left Harry wondering if he had really done something to upset him, or if it was all part of the act.

"He really has it in for you," Ron said.

"I'll work hard to get the points back," Harry said as Hermione shot him a glare. She rarely said anything to him unless it was to chastise him, but then again, she rarely said anything to anybody. She turned away and Harry went back to talking to Ron.

"I don't know why. I didn't do anything to him."

Just then Fred leaned across the table (he and George had been listening), and said conspiratorially, "I hear you look just like James. Mum said once that old Snape had a thing for your mum but hated your dad. Maybe that's what his deal is."

"Or he could be a vampire and he wants Harry's blood," George said with a grin.

Ron shook his head at his brothers. "If he was a vampire he'd have had Harry for a snack already. He already had one detention with him at night."

"Oh no," Hermione said suddenly a few seats down the table, and Harry and Ron looked over at her, and then followed her gaze. Snape was striding towards them, and a lot of eyes were following him across the hall.

"Potter, I would like to discuss your failing Potions homework with you. You will be re-doing it after dinner."

Harry looked down at the table as Snape strode away.

"Make that two detentions," Ron said.

"If you come back as a vampire Harry, remember that Ron is younger and probably has better tasting blood than we do," George said.

Dinner was only a few minutes from being over and Snape had just strode out of the hall, so Harry got up and followed, looking glum. Harry didn't make it all the way down to Snape's office because the Professor was waiting for him at the bottom of the Dungeon stairwell.

"Follow me," he said quietly. Harry was glad he was there to lead him to his office, because he'd already forgotten how to get there, but he was led down an unfamiliar hall instead near the stairwell and to an ornate looking wooden door. Severus opened the door with a password and key and went inside. This wasn't Snape's office... it looked like a sitting room.

"It's ok," he said, sounding tired. "You can come in. This is my quarters."

Harry stepped inside and closed the door behind him. There were two brown couches that looked comfortable and a shag green rug between them with a coffee table in the center. There was a fireplace and several bookshelves, and a desk and chair against the wall that looked as though they were rarely used.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Ok."

He went through a doorway to what Harry could only assume was the kitchen, and curious, Harry followed him. The kitchen was small with a well worn dark wooden floor with stone countertops and walls. Snape was using his wand to heat the tea-kettle and already had two mugs out waiting to be filled.

"The harsh exchanges we've had in public disturb you," he said, back still turned to Harry. It wasn't a question. When Harry didn't answer, Severus turned to look at him and then turned back to finish the tea. He brought a cup to Harry a few moments later and then sat with his own cup at the table.

"Well?"

"I just- have to get used to it," Harry said.

"I do not say the things I do to hurt you."

"I know."

"Yet you seem wounded."

"I've only been here a week. Everything is still new. This is too."

"I understand. My concern is whether or not I am harming you by keeping up appearances."

"You don't have to worry about me sir," Harry said. He paused as he stared into his tea. "Maybe..." he started, and then trailed off.

"Yes?"

"If there was some way to remind me sometimes that it's all fake."

"Do you have any ideas?"

Harry laughed. "No."

"Neither do I. I will think on it however. Would you like to play Gobstones?"

"What about my essay?"

Severus snapped his fingers and Harry's rolled parchment appeared from thin air into his hands. "You have a passing grade. There is no need to re-write it."

"Oh." Harry sighed, feeling less sullen.

"If you were to really fail an essay, I would not bring it up so publicly. I would speak with you about it in private and offer you a chance to re-do it. If there is a time you are struggling with any of your schoolwork, you may come to me for help."

"How do I do that?"

"You have freetime after hours. You are free to come to my office then, though what you will say to your friends you will have to figure out. Otherwise you will need to find a reasonable way," he really stressed the word reasonable, "to get yourself into detention in my presence."

"People are going to think I'm delinquent."

"That is a possibility."

After Harry's talk with his father, he felt better, and when Monday rolled around and his father sent him a glare in Potions, Harry didn't feel quite as bad about it. He noticed that his father came and stood next to his desk briefly under the pretense of examining Dean's potion behind him, and then moved off. Harry didn't think much of it until two days later when he had Potions again. The Professor made a snide remark about Harry's handwriting, but came and stood next to his desk again a minute later to give Hermione one point for finishing her Potion early. When it happened a third time by the end of the week, Harry was beginning to associate his father's presence next to his desk with a feeling of calm. His father never spoke to Harry about what he was doing, but Harry knew he was doing what Harry had asked. Giving him a gentle reminder that it was all an act. Snape was usually mobile around the room anyway, so it didn't make anyone think twice about him pausing next to Harry's desk randomly throughout classes to speak to people around him.

Harry had two more detentions with his father by the end of his first month, and lost almost twenty more points (which were always given back to him right away when no one was looking). Hermione was angrier than ever with Harry, but on the flipside the twins thought Harry was cool for getting so many detentions with Snape and surviving. They took to telling the common room about Harry's bravery in facing down Snape time and again, who most of the Gryffindors didn't like anyway.

It was Halloween when Hermione marched up to Harry after he'd lost another ten points from Snape in the hall. She put her hands on her hips and said very loudly, "You're going to lose us the house cup!"

Harry frowned and said just as loudly, "Maybe I am! But you don't have to remind me of it every time I make a mistake! Not everybody can be perfect like you. Maybe that's why you don't have any friends."

She opened her mouth and closed it again, and Harry saw tears in her eyes as she rushed past him. Harry turned to watch her go, feeling bad, and realized that his father had stopped a short distance down the hallway after taking points from him to listen to the exchange as had many other passing students. Harry looked down and hurried in the opposite direction, feeling like a real jerk.

Later at the feast, Ron pointed out that Hermione was missing, and Harry told him about what had happened.

"Good, she should stop getting on our case all the time. The only time she speaks is to tell us to stop ruining the chances for the house to get the cup or to not get into trouble."

"I guess," Harry said, but he still felt bad. Near the end of dinner Harry was thinking about going to find his father on his own when Professor Quirril burst into the hall shouting about a troll in the Dungeons. Harry went pale. The Dungeons. His father, but a quick glance at the staff table told him that his father was fine, even if looking a little pale himself.

There was chaos for a few minutes as the Headmaster tried to quiet students and then as students exited the hall with their Prefects to go back to the common room. They were halfway back to Gryffindor, trailing at the end of the line when Harry and Ron heard a scream.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"It sounded like a girl."

There was another scream and Ron put one hand up over his face. "That was Hermione."

"She doesn't know about the troll," Harry said, but after a third scream, he said, "Or maybe she does." The Prefects and the rest of Gryffindor had already disappeared around a corner, leaving Harry and Ron behind when they'd stopped to talk about the initial scream they'd heard, so there was no one to tell.

"Come on," Harry said, and they followed the next scream and the sound of things being destroyed to a girl's bathroom.

Later in life, as Harry would look back on this moment, he would remember it as one of the few times he really got into trouble with his father. McGonagall had awarded house points for their 'dumb luck' and bravery, but Harry had received a private detention with Snape the next day, one that hadn't been announced publicly for show. He'd had to write fifty lines about not putting himself in danger, and a half foot essay on the dangers of facing down trolls at the age of eleven. He felt bad that he'd let his father down and actually made him angry, but noticed someone over the next few days that seemed to feel even worse than him.

He watched as Hermione seemed to distance herself even more from people around her. She even stopped raising her hand in classes, and took to sitting by herself at the far end of Gryffindor table.

"Come on," Harry said to Ron four days after the troll incident. He walked towards Hermione and Ron muttered something that sounded like, 'why me?' Harry sat down next to her and Ron across from them.

She looked up and Harry noted that there were circles under her eyes. "What- what are you doing?"

"Eating lunch," Ron said, as if it were obvious. He pulled two sandwiches onto his plate.

She seemed uncertain. "Why are you eating with me? I almost got you two killed."

Harry poured himself some pumpkin juice and said, "What's a little troll snot and a detention between friends?"

"Friends?"

"Come on Hermione," Ron said, following Harry's lead. "You're like us now, a real trouble maker. That makes us friends."

She bit her lip and Harry and Ron laughed. Hermione laughed a little too and began to put food on her own plate. They were inseparable after that, and though Hermione did still scold them from time to time, Harry found that he didn't mind it as much now.

The year went on and Harry grew closer to his two friends, and even closer to his father. He felt rather like a spy sneaking down to see him after dinner and keeping secrets from people about the true nature of his detentions. It became like a game to him. How mad can I pretend to be at Snape and how mad can I get him to pretend to be at me? Then we'll go and play chess or Gobstones or cards or he'll help me with his homework and no one will be the wiser.

Harry only feared once that year that someone would find out his secret. He feared it the moment Voldemort revealed himself from the back of Quirril's head in front of the Mirror of Erised. There Harry stood with Snape behind him in the mirror, and a red stone in his pocket, with Voldemort looking on. But Voldemort couldn't see what he saw, and neither could Quirrell, and later the only person Harry told about what he'd seen in the mirror, was his father after he was released from the Hospital Wing.

Harry got more lines and a stern talking to by his father about not putting himself in situations where he would be in harm's way. Harry didn't tell him, but he agreed. He'd never been so scared in all his life as when that turban had fallen from Quirrel's head. Voldemort had a face now and was very real to Harry. His game of spy with his father was no longer just for fun. It was the first time Harry felt he was in a life or death situation, but it wouldn't be the last.