Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:

Disclaimer: The characters belong to J. K. Rowling only. Any yahoo who believes otherwise should seek mental consultation. Too much coffee is bad for the nerves.

Hey, guys sorry for the long wait. I was studying for exams and once again they went great. Ah I have a summer course this year but I assure you that chapters will be finished much earlier than before. 

Once again I loved the reviews by each and every one of you and I thank you deeply. 

Special thanks to my beta DreamlikeCheese. She has done her best during a hectic period of studying and running and I thank her.

Complexity at Hogwarts

The raven-haired man remained still, letting a wave of euphoria and self-satisfaction overcome him. He was utterly convinced that only a Slytherin could compose such a brilliant idea. He looked at Harry and pulled the boy into his arms.

“By Merlin lad!” he exclaimed in satisfaction, “You just gave me a wonderful idea about Occlumency!”

Little Harry did not respond immediately. He kept quiet, perplexed over his guardian’s queer behaviour.

“Me?” Harry asked uncertainly, reminding Snape of the teenage Potter’s habit of asking the obvious.

“Yes you,” he answered immediately and moved to his bedroom.

-)-)-)

“This is it Harry, do you understand?” Snape asked having spent the last fifty minutes explaining on how little Harry would respond during Occlumency.

The boy nodded and looked at the man.

“Legilimens”

FLASHBACK

Harry Potter stood in front of the gigantic mass of Vernon Dursley. It was the beginning of spring and young Harry found himself already in trouble.

The kindergarten teacher had called his uncle immediately after school had ended. Apparently young Harry had ended up sitting on the school’s gigantic emblem, which was built at the top of the school’s buildings. The school teacher had called for the fire brigade to help get the boy down. Harry refused to explain how he had ended sitting on the school’s emblem. In fact, he could not explain. The last thing he remembered was running, chased by Dudley and Piers, and jumping on a swing in order to move swiftly forward. He remembered jumping from the swing but how he had ended up on the emblem he could not explain. He suspected that this was a result of being too skinny. The air must have lifted him and led him to rest on the emblem.

The teacher had a long talk with his uncle and now the little boy stood in front of the man, shivering slightly with fear. The man kept looking outside the window, in an awfully quiet manner. Little Harry gulped, an unsuccessful attempt to sooth his dry throat. His uncle had not cuffed him nor shouted at him, nor did he toss him into the cupboard under the stairs. He just remained so awfully quiet that Harry knew he was in a lot trouble.

“Boy, get over here,” Uncle Vernon ordered softly and Harry rushed to stand near the man.

“Look outside the window. Can you see that man?”

Little Harry looked outside. On the pavement across the street sat a man. He had long wild hair and a matted beard. His clothes were rags that hung loosely on him; evidence that even those were not his. The man appeared to be dazed from the sun. He stood up and opened the garbage can.

“That man,” uncle Vernon whispered softly, “takes bad children from their home, kills them and then eats them.”

Harry looked outside the window in horror. The man looked up from the garbage can and stared at Harry in hunger. Harry’s breath caught.

“If I hear, ever again, that you misbehaved,” uncle Vernon hissed in a low, threatening tone, “I will give you to that man and I will let him eat you. I will not tolerate an attitude like today’s ever again.”

Harry looked at his uncle in terror and he saw that the beefy man was very serious about this.

Snape, in the meantime, felt the vein in his temple vibrating with anger. That man, that Muggle, was a monster. He did not, however, manage to conclude his thoughts as the whole memory started to shake as if there was an earthquake. The man understood that the little boy was experiencing an emotional turmoil and retreated in haste.

END OF FLASHBACK

Snape found himself in his chambers with the little boy sobbing near him. Little Harry had drawn his knees to his chest and had buried his face against them. Snape reached out to touch the boy, whose shoulders were shaking. The boy shot at the Potion Master’s touch and looked at his Guardian in bewilderment before grasping the man’s hand as if his whole world depended on it.

“Please Sevvus,” he pleaded through his sobs, “Don’t give me – to – to – sniff – scary man. I promise – hic – be – be – good,” he let out a distressed sob as he buried his head against the man’s chest, “I promise – sniff- always be good.”

Snape let the boy sob, unable to think of a word of comfort. He remained still, waiting for the boy to stop, while murmuring silly words of promise that he would never let anything hurt him. His inners self was scolding him for giving himself to a boy like Potter. Another part of him, however, dreaded the decision he had just made. He had to find a way to convince Potter that the half-giant was not going to eat him.

-)-)-)

o-o-o

Severus Snape, age sixteen, crept outside Hogwarts castle. The night was bright and a small silvery orb hung in the sky illuminating it. He braced himself for a moment as he felt the chilly breeze passing though his hair, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. He snickered to himself. Black had not even noticed that he had been standing nearby when, near sunset, he had seen Madam Pomfrey near the Whomping Willow with Remus Lupin.

“Prod the willow’s trunk with a stick and you will find where Lupin goes,” he had heard Black muttering to himself with a sly grin.

He felt lucky. He had followed Obnoxious-Potter to find out his whereabouts on Tuesday, when the first game of the season for the Gryffindors would take place. That potion he had brewed would be the ultimate revenge on Potter’s hideous prank on him. For months he had brewed this potion. He would find out where Potter stored his Quidditch robe and when the clothes were left unguarded he would strike. He would apply the whole vial to Potter’s Quidditch robes. And Merlin be his witness, Potter would need a skin-removal treatment and a skin-replenish procedure to heal himself. Then maybe Potter and Black would join Lupin that evening and they could get detention. That will cause them to be expelled from the Quidditch match. And the potion he had brewed? Well then, the potion would be used another time.

“Wake up.”

He moved near the Whomping Willow and the tree attacked him with its huge branches. Snape dodged the first few swipes but couldn’t avoid getting hit by one of the branches. He gritted his teeth in pain as a soaring burning sensation spread down his back. He backed away quickly and avoided a branch and another, and another. He saw it then. A long stick. He moved to grab it. THWACK! The teenager closed his eyes and suppressed the tears of agony that had welled up. He saw a knot, and pressed it with the stick with all his might.

“Wake Up!”

The young man of Slytherin crawled inside the tunnel and moved slowly towards what seemed to be the exit. His chest hurt slightly as he was crouching and walking at the same time. He let out a gasp of suffocation and then he realised the tunnel was becoming wider and wider.

And at the end he saw two eyes, of amber colour and a long jaw full of sharp teeth. Snape froze on the spot, touching the wall behind him, wishing he could just disappear. Then he understood. The monthly disappearances, Lupin’s frailty and the constant sickness. Lupin was that werewolf!

“Come on wake up!”

He was dumbstruck as he remembered. Black muttering to himself – the werewolf was coming closer – no he must have seen him! – The jaws that made this terrible snapping sound – Potter stood near him smiling – a horrible yowl – Lupin winking that evening to his friends. They were all in on the joke! He was going to die!

For that brisk little second, when Snape thought he was about to die, he found himself pondering a peculiar question, whether he had changed underwear or not. And then, at that moment, when the werewolf had focused his eyes on him and he was certain that these were his last living seconds, another hand tugged on his.

“Snivellus, you brainless twit!”

He found himself dragged out by a hand, soft and slippery at the same time. He looked as he was dragged forward, outside the tunnel. The pain in his shoulders and leg was unbearable, both his shirt and trousers were sticky and smelled of blood. Could it be his blood?

They stepped outside the tunnel and the hand became James Potter’s hand. He let it go as if it was burning fire. He moved backwards, stumbled and fell on the ground.

“Come on Snivellus, we must see Dumbledore,” the other boy muttered and tried to get hold of Snape’s hands.

Snape batted the hand away.

“Your friend Lupin is a werewolf. And you knew that!” he said in bemusement “Jolly good! And then Black and you and Lupin decided of me having a meeting with him, when fully transformed” he said chuckling nervously.

“Don’t be sill-“

“I AM NOT BEING SILLY!” the boy screamed and then raised an eyebrow at Potter.

“Wake up, you are dreaming.”

Snape fell on his back and started laughing uncontrollably.

“Come on, you are bleeding. Madam Pomfrey would want to see you.”

“Ah no I’m okay – hahaha – Let Me – hahahaha – Die In this Field! No – ha – Need – ha – To Spoil Your – hahahaha – Evening Plans,” he kept laughing and hitting the other boy’s protruding hand away from him.

James Potter lost his patience and tried to grab Snape by the shoulders, who threw a punch at him before stopping his laughter and throwing himself on the other boy with all his might.

“WAKE UP!”

Suddenly Potter punched him hard to the side of the head and Snape lost all consciousness.

“Severus . . . Severus . . .” a concerned deep voice he knew well said.

“WAKE UP YOU BLOODY FOOL!”

o-o-o

The hook-nosed man’s eyes opened wide as a terrible headache spread inside his skull. He had forced himself to wake up. He lay crouched on his bed, knees so close to his chest one would think he was trying to transform into a ball. He gasped feeling a sense of hopelessness and pity. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t think of it, just go back to sleep. Don’t duel with bad memories; don’t wallow in your dreams. Control your emotions, go back to sleep, go back to sleep, just let it be!” he ordered himself as his insides ached. He let out a hoarse sob. “Control your emotions, your emotions, your soul. Don’t be weak, don’t be weak,” he repeated sternly, refusing to shed a tear or even acknowledging the pain he was feeling.

He just kept repeating that until he fell asleep.

-)-)-)

It was Wednesday afternoon and Snape found himself walking with Harry on the Grounds. The man was not in a very good mood, not even to his own ‘Snapish’, as his students called it, standards. The Veritaserum was ready and he had to do the one thing that completely disgusted him. He had to give it to his Slytherins, and the worst part was he had to give it to them secretly and in a vile manner. For Snape knew the Slytherins’ pride. They would rather leave Hogwarts and run away than take Veritaserum, as the potion was mostly used for criminal interrogations. They, Snape knew, were not criminals.

He felt Harry stop abruptly and squeeze himself next to him. The man looked up and saw that the boy was looking at Hagrid, the half-giant, sitting outside his hut.

“Harry look at me,” Snape ordered immediately and the boy took his transfixed, panicked eyes from the half-giant very slowly, “Hagrid is not dangerous and there is no reason to be afraid of him. I can assure you he does not hurt or eat children.”

“Or he would have eaten all Slytherin by now.”

Little Harry looked at Snape in disbelief. The huge man was like Uncle Vernon said. Strange-looking people were bad. And that man was huge, wore strange clothes and smelled strange.

“Uncle Vernon says all strange is dangerous and bad,” Harry pointed out with a trembling voice.

“Well, if that is the case,” Snape commented, “then McGonagall is also bad.”

“No, she isn’t bad!” Harry protested immediately.

“Oh yes she is. She turns into a cat, haven’t you seen her? And professor Flitwick. He is too short for his own good and has a strange squeaky voice. And what about professor Dumbledore? I am not sure if you have noticed but he has a strange bird for a pet,” Snape concluded so seriously that if another one was present he or she would have the urge to laugh.

“But – but – they are good to me and I love them,” Harry said in determinedly.

“So, what make you think that Hagrid is bad apart from his strange appearance?”

Harry remained silent. Hagrid stood up and disappeared behind the pumpkin patch. He reappeared later, holding two unicorn foals in his arms. He let them down and struggled to hold one of them in his left arm. To Harry’s amazement he took out a big baby bottle and started feeding one of the babies, while he tried to keep the other one from leaving his side.

“Every person is unique because she or he differs from everyone else. Yes, Hagrid is different, but he is the only one that cares for those two orphan unicorns,” Snape commented as the boy watched the sight of the half-giant feeding the unicorns in amazement.

Three days, and three evening walks later, Harry approached Hagrid slowly and introduced himself. Snape, for his part, remained seated far away and was determined not to approach the hut. He would have succeeded if it wasn’t for Fang, who bit his robes and was determined to drag him to the hut, if he insisted on remaining seated.

-)-)-)

The week passed fairly quickly with a note of slight boredom. Snape was busying himself with two essential things. The first was the creation of all the cosmetics he had to make for his little Veela trade. The other was Harry’s advancing steps in Occlumency.

“Legilimens.”

FLASHBACK

The doorbell rang and echoed in the house. Little Harry cringed knowing who was at the door. Aunt Marge and her new dog. He took a sip from the bitter tea he was allowed to have for breakfast and the doorbell rang once more.

“Boy, open the door!” Uncle Vernon said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Little Harry gulped, not that the attempt could manage to sooth his dry throat, but stood up nevertheless. He walked to the door and opened it.

“It was about time!” a woman with the same beefy stature as his uncle shouted and threw a handful of luggage into his arms. The four-and-a-half-year old boy stumbled under the weight of the luggage and fell.

“Useless,” Aunt Marge tutted and looked at Harry as if he was a large slimy slug. “Diddiiiiii!” she shouted, “Come and see what Aunt Marge brought for her little boy. Oh and you,” she said to Harry, “Give Ripper some water. He is tired from the trip.”

Snape watched Harry stumble once again in his overlarge clothes and stare at the dog in fear. It was the same bulldog, a younger version of it at least, that Snape had seen a year ago during the Occlumency lessons. In that memory the dog was larger and Harry was nine. In the memory he was seeing, the dog was a one-and-a-half-year old puppy. The dog growled at the boy, but Snape did not manage to see more. Suddenly a wall made of colourful blocks was built in front of him. It rose up, covering what was happening from the man’s eyes. He tried to raise his head but the wall kept building higher, way past Snape’s head.

END OF FLASHBACK

The man exited the memory with the euphoria of someone who for the first time in a very long time had not had his ribs struck. Harry sat on the floor, slightly giddy and disoriented and kept looking at his right leg.

“Harry, I am very, very pleased with you,” Snape commented not believing he was uttering such words to Potter. Had someone told him he was going to say such a thing to the boy at the beginning of the school year, he would have recommend a room-booking at St. Mungo’s.

Harry gave a quick shy smile to Snape but focused back on his right leg. He looked at his guardian as if he remembered something and rolled up his right trouser. The mark where Ripper, the bulldog, had bit him was there and he finally understood what Sevvus meant when he said that he, Harry, was living two childhoods at once. And suddenly he felt lucky that with Sevvus he could be a normal little boy. Severus Snape never understood why little Harry hugged him so abruptly.

-)-)-)

Snape placed the kettle on the fire and then concentrated on the bowl in front of him. The bowl contained white, fresh yogurt into which he broke some lavender seeds. The strong aroma of the purple flower soothed his agitated nerves and he opened a jar full of honey. He took a spoonful of honey, opened the kettle and added the honey into its boiling contents. He kept stirring the yogurt that had started turning mild purple and contemplated the morning’s events.

FLASHBACK

He had walked to class, thinking of the bad dreams he had been experiencing for the last few nights. He wanted to relax, to not think of them but he could not help but do so. For though Snape was never a man that believed in predictions or instincts; he had had a strange feeling of unease and alertness these last few days. As if something terrible, but great at the same time, was about to take place.

He had reached the classroom when he heard all the noise coming from inside. Movements, halting footsteps, shrieks, yells, all jumbled together in an increasingly temperamental environment.

“No, they wouldn’t,” Snape thought, dismissing the whole idea of such behaviour as ridiculous.

He opened the door, however, and to his surprise he saw what he had suspected taking place.

Paulette Sun, the third-year quidditch keeper of his House was standing over Stewart Ackerley of Ravenclaw and was shouting her lungs out while she attempted to scratch out the boy’s eyes. Ackerley was shouting and trying to cover his face, while the other Slytherins were trying, in vain, to make the young girl stop hitting the boy and lift her off him.

As Snape watched the fight, after those few seconds of disbelief, he once again remembered what an unfortunate mistake it is to anger a woman. He regained his composure very quickly, nonetheless, and hurried to break up the fighting bundle.

“Split up, split up!” he cried out twice. Seeing that his students, well the Slytherin girl to be precise, had no intention of doing that on their own; he sonorused his voice to shout ‘Silence!’ and grabbed the girl’s forearm, pulling her to her feet and forcing her to sit on the nearest stool.

“Would someone be kind enough to explain the reason why I found Miss Sun trying to rip Mr. Ackerley’s eyes out?” he inquired coldly and crossed his hands in an impatient pose.

The class remained silent. Miss Sun was glaring at the Ravenclaw student, who kept looking at the floor with a grim scowl. The girl rubbed her eye and huffed. The rest of the class remained awkwardly silent, though the Slytherins had the expression of someone who was trying to digest a huge chunk of dreadful information. Snape huffed.

“Nothing to say? Mr Ackerley?” he asked, examining the Ravenclaw from head to toe.

“Ackerley said a great lie!” a Slytherin boy cried out when the Ravenclaw remained silent.

“I DID NOT!” the Ravenclaw screamed back, glaring at them, “I bet all of them know!” he said pointing at Snape.

Paulette Sun kept rubbing her eye and huffing.

“My parents owled me, telling me that Hogwarts will not open next year,” the boy shouted. “The Ministry said so and so we are not coming back in September.”

Snape, for the first time in a very long time felt his legs betraying him and sat on the nearest stool. Great Merlin, parents were the stupidest people in the world.

“Paulette said she wouldn’t believe it and he insisted and he showed her the letter –and – and –“a miniscule Slytherin girl said nervously, “and-“

“And he told me the school would be better off without us Slytherins”

It was Paulette, who had spoken. She rubbed her eyes and to Snape’s surprise he saw them shining with tears.

“He said it was – Slytherin’s fault the school will closed be-because He – He – sniff - You-know-Who was Slytherin. So – Hogwarts would be…” the girl sobbed, mostly as she was overwhelmed by anger and kept rubbing her wet eyes.

For some seconds Snape was trying to digest what he had heard. He, once again, felt the unfairness of being a Slytherin and how much that angered him, how those beliefs, such as those of Ackerley, made him want to curse and shout and hex the ones that espoused them.

“Ackerley,” he finally said coldly, “You are dismissed from the classroom and I will have a very long talk with professor Flitwick.”

He looked at the door after the boy had left and then turned to the young girl that kept crying in the corner.

“Miss Sun, do stand up,” he finally said in exasperation and grabbed the young girl lightly from the wrists, helping her to her feet, “Now, now let us go to Madam Pomfrey. She can give you a nice dose of a Nerve-Calming potion and then you can be excused to your dormitory.”

He grabbed the girl softly by the shoulders and led her forward, towards the door. As he opened the door, however, he turned his head and hissed dangerously.

“Now all of you turn to page one-hundred-and-seventy-four and brew the potion we discussed two days ago. Oh and believe me, if you misbehave in my absence I will know; and I will not be pleased.”

Still glaring, he opened the door and led the young girl outside.

END OF FLASHBACK

The whistle of the boiling kettle echoed in his empty office and he poured the hot mixture of diluted bubotuber puss, honey and Witch Hazel into the bowl. The contents of the bowl, now lilac in colour, emanated a soft soothing aroma. He placed this cream into small packages and let it cool off. After this happened he would close the packages, magically seal them and have them ready for the exchange with Leanne at the lake near Hogsmade.

A knock on the door disrupted Snape’s thoughts and for a second he felt the blood drain from his face. Students were to ‘visit’ today. One by one he would greet them and offer them a cup of tea. Snape had told his Slytherins that he was to have a meeting with them and ask them a handful of questions that Dumbledore had required him to ask if he was to provide them with a safe place to stay over the summer. The thing was that their tea-meetings would also include Veritaserum.

“Enter.”

Draco Malfoy entered the office, reluctantly and sat down opposite his House Master. Both boy and man remained silent for a few uncomfortable moments before Snape clapped his hands and ordered for sandwiches to appear. He put the kettle with the tea-leaves in the fire to boil. Having prepared tea, the man poured the hot liquid into his cup and Malfoy’s.

“Sugar?” he asked.

“One lump please,” Malfoy said sceptically. He saw Snape putting two lumps in his cup.

“Milk?”

“Just a bit, thank you,” Malfoy answered slowly and Snape complied before adding some milk to his own cup as well.

They both stared at each other expectantly, before Snape took a long sip from his cup and bit into his cucumber sandwich

”My name is Gregory Smith,” Snape said to the blond boy’s surprise, “This is to prove I put nothing in the tea Draco,” he smirked.

The blond boy blushed, “I am sorry sir, I just . . . “

“No need to apologise Draco. I would be hesitant as well,” Snape commented slowly.

The black-robed man felt a jab of guilt when the teenager took a sip from his tea. It was true. He placed nothing in the tea, or the sugar, or the sandwiches, but he had coated the inside of his students’ cups in Veritaserum very carefully. He let the boy drink for awhile while he took long slow slips from his cup as well.

“Now Mr Malfoy, let us get to business shall we? I find the questions quite unnecessary to be honest but as they are insisted on, I will comply. Feel free to answer with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ if you want to,” he spoke with tone of boredom.

“Okay sir.”

“Why do you seek protection?”

“I find the bloodshed You-Know-Who wants to perform unnecessary.”

“Have you ever been asked to join the Dark Lord’s followers?”

“No, but my father hinted that my last year at Hogwarts would be very different and full of glory.”

“Do you think that this summer you will be in danger of recruitment?”

“Yes.”

Snape fell silent and looked at the piece of paper with the questions he was to ask.

“That is all Draco,” he concluded, “ever understood the purpose of such questions really. You can go to your dormitory, if you wish to.”

Malfoy stood up and looked at the door for a second, before turning to his House Master.

“Sir, I want to say - I mean – It is really important for me that – you believe me sir and – and – I trust you that you will help us.”

Draco Malfoy left the room, letting the man float in a pool of guilt. Those children placed their hopes and trust at his feet and he had to continue to be a liar around them. He huffed and sipped his tea.

-)-)-)

A month passed. The boy, Harry, reached the age of seven quickly and had made a great advance in Occlumency by building the imaginary wall stronger and higher day by day. Yet Snape could not feel happy about it as every afternoon he was caught in a web of deceit and lies, all from his part. All of his Slytherins that had asked for help were speaking the truth. And he continued to lie, force-feeding them the darn Veritaserum. He felt like the vilest man that had ever existed in the afternoons, for all of his students shyly thanked him for trusting them and declared in their own Slytherin way how important he was to them. He felt sick with himself, he caught himself many times ready to tell them what was going on and he had gather every little fragment of self-restraint to prevent himself from doing so. Now, this evening, he would visit the Headmaster and declare, with much pride, that his Slytherins were seeking genuine help.

Albus Dumbledore was exhausted. He stepped outside the fireplace and tried to relax. The Ministry officials were a bundle of coots that did not know left from right, and he would have loved to say that to them this evening. It was one of the few times, after so many years, that he felt his patience getting short with people.

The gargoyle moved aside, letting Severus Snape enter the room. Had Snape arrived a few minutes later, he might have allowed Dumbledore time to relax and some of the upcoming events would have never taken place in the office. But he did not.

“Headmaster,” Snape said proudly as Dumbledore pointed at the armchair, “I have just concluded the inquiry you have asked me to perform. All of my Slytherins, under Veritaserum,” he grumbled at this,” are genuine in their quest for help.”

The announcement, however, did not remove the grim look from the Headmaster’s face. For some seconds Albus Dumbledore appeared to be very old, almost twice his age.

“Severus I have just returned from the ministry. . .”

The young man fidgeted in his seat. It was probably Dumbledore’s grave voice that had given Snape a sense of foreboding.

“I am happy to say that the school will reopen, in the upcoming September, but only for the sixth and seventh years, only for them. No other years will be allowed in the school.”

Snape did not know how to react to this. A part of him felt relieved that some of the students would be safe in September, while another part of him felt grief that not all of them, the students, would be safe.

“I am afraid, however, that I do bear bad news. The Ministry has prohibited students from remaining at Hogwarts for the summer. They ordered all of them to return home for the summer holidays.”

Snape felt his heart drop. He felt anger, anger beyond belief.

“Did you know this would happen?” he accused coldly, “Did you know that the Ministry would take such action?”

“Severus, don’t be ridiculous,” Dumbledore tried to say.

“I am not ridiculous,” Snape hissed angrily, “Did you ask me to question my students under Veritaserum while you suspected this would take place?” he spat out accusingly, shooting out the words slowly one after the other.

“No Severus, I did not,” Dumbledore answered back, a hint of irritation in his ancient voice.

“The, the Hell with the Ministry. You never had a problem going against its decision when it came to your ‘precious’ Gryffindors. Or are my Slytherins not worth it?”

“You know I cannot do that,” Dumbledore answered back, the hint of irritation remaining in his voice; “if I make such a decision they might decide to cut us off. We will be cut off from the rest of the world.”

The black-robed man lost every bit of patience he possessed. He never understood both of them did not, how he started shouting at the Headmaster.

“SO MY SLYTHERINS AREN’T WORTH THE TROUBLE? I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN IT! IT IS ALWAYS THE SAME WITH YOU PEOPLE! BUT YOU! YOU ARE WILLING TO LET THEM RETURN HOME WHEN YOU KNOW THEY ARE DOOMED! YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO PEOPLE LIKE THEM! YOU HAVE SEEN WHAT HAPPENED THE LAST TIME YOU LET A PARENT COME CLOSE IN SUCH A CASE!”

“NOT ALL PEOPLE ARE LIKE YOU SEVERUS!” Dumbledore’s angry voice boomed into the office as the old man was unable to restrain himself.

If Dumbledore had slapped Snape across the face, it would have caused less shock to the Potions Master. The raven-haired man turned pale and he remained stiffly still in his chair. For a second a pained expression was drawn on his features but he ordered himself to control his emotions. Dumbledore, in his part, stopped glaring as he suddenly realised what he had just shouted to the young man. He turned pale as well, his shoulders hunched and no one would suspect, at that given moment, that the old little man in the seat was the most powerful wizard in the world. The both remained silent, seconds passed and seemed like centuries as they both sat transfixed in their seat, and then Snape stood and moved to the door.

“Severus, I am sorry,” Dumbledore shot out grimly, remaining seated in his chair.

Snape stopped, lowered his head but did not turn back to see the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

“So am I, Headmaster, so am I,” he said grimly and moved outside the office, rubbing his left eye feverishly and hoping that he would meet no one on the way to his office.

Chapter End Notes:

And thus concludes chapter 31 ladies and gentlemen. We are only a handful of chapters away from the ending of this fanfic, but once again I ask you to review.

IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTES

1. I hope you like my Why-Harry-Fears-Hagrid explanation. Amazingly as it seems children do believe in this horrid stuff and unfortunately this leads them to become biased when it comes to certain people. Even when they do not know someone they do judge him because something their parents have said. So do be sensitive around children.

2. About the dream-memory of Snape. As you have noticed I am not a regular Snape fan girl and I hope you liked my interpretation of the meeting with Lupin as a werewolf. First of all there is no coined date given to when this happened in the HP Lexicon, it just says that it takes place someday after the owls. I chose the autumn in his seventh year (you can see I have changed chapter 320), as he can still be sixteen (his birthday is at January9) and for a reason I cannot say without spoil the fun but it is very important to the story. In the PoA, Lupin says that Snape only got a glimpse of him in the tunnel, nevertheless I chose this few moments as we cannot know what really happened in that tunnel as people tend to say better things to make themselves appear better. In other stories the teenage Snape even has a fight with the Werewolf-Lupin, but I chose it to be a bit more canon (not that other stories are not exciting or do bad mind you), what you think?

4. Yes dreams can be controlled and you can force yourself to wake up. People that do meditation can do such a thing. How do I know? I have achieved such a level and yes when you force yourself to wake you do have a splitting headache.


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