Afterwards, Harry wasn't really sure how he got to his room. He remembered fleeing from the drawing room, stumbling on the stairs... somehow finding the right door. There, he had thrown himself on his bed and smothered his head with the pillow, wanting to block out everything, including his own thoughts.

Especially his own thoughts.

Which was impossible, of course.

What did it all mean? Why would anyone make Snape his guardian? Harry just didn't believe it. He refused to let himself believe it. There couldn't possibly be any explanation good enough.

He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Snape.

His guardian.

It was impossible.

He couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of calamity had forced this to come about. Snape had to be the last person in the wizarding world to want to be Harry's guardian.

Even ignoring the fact that Snape hated him -- had always hated him -- how could they make a Death Eater his guardian? How could anyone even think of it?

With those awful thoughts still running through his brain and Lupin's angry words echoing in his ears, Harry fell into a fitful sleep, his head still buried under the pillow.

It was still early when he woke again; the sky hadn't completely darkened yet. His restless sleep had been cut short by another nightmare.

He couldn't get back to sleep. He sat in bed, sweaty and a little shaky.

Somehow, he managed to push aside all other thoughts except one.

He wanted Hermione's letter.

But Snape had it, and Harry didn't know how to get it from him.

Belatedly, he thought that perhaps he had acted stupidly. He should have handed the letter to Lupin. Lupin would have given it to him, eventually. Snape, on the other hand... Harry didn't know what Snape would do.

At the same time, part of him couldn't help wishing he had ripped the letter open immediately and read it. He would have been in as much trouble, and at least he wouldn't have his current problem.

He wanted that letter.

The helplessness was awful. He didn't see any way he could ask Snape for it; Snape wouldn't just give it to him, he knew perfectly well.

Neither would Lupin. Harry considered -- and immediately dismissed -- the idea of asking Lupin to get the letter from Snape. The unconcealed rage in Lupin's eyes was burned into Harry's brain.

After a while, he got out of bed and dressed.

Having nothing else to do, he took out his photo album and flipped it open.

He had looked at each picture so many times that he felt he knew them by heart, but of course, these were wizard photographs, and their subjects moved in and out of the frames. Harry never knew who might come into view in the background.

He was looking for Sirius this time.

Besides the wedding photograph, there were several that Sirius could sometimes be seen in. In a Christmas photo he was behind the tree, hanging up a glass ornament. A stag, Harry thought it was, but it was hard to tell in the grainy picture. In a picture taken by the lake at Hogwarts, Sirius could be spotted reflected in the still water when James moved to one side of the frame and cast a shadow across the edge of the lake. Sirius seemed to be dozing, sprawled on the ground on top of his spread-out cloak.

Sometimes looking at the pictures made him feel a little bit better, but mostly it just made him ache with loneliness and guilt. He didn't know why he kept looking.

He slammed the album shut and pushed it away from him. Sometimes, all the faces seemed to be looking back at him accusingly out of their pictures, and they were doing it now.

He leaned against the side of his bed, the floor ice cold under him and the bedframe digging into his spine. He drew up his knees and laid his head on top.

He didn't cry; he rarely did, because it did no good. He just shut his eyes and let himself drift.

When he next raised his head, it was dawn.

The grimy window didn't let in much light, but out of it he could see a strip of sky, and it was getting paler. He wished he had his watch, but he'd taken it off once while scrubbing the kitchen floor and Dudley had crushed it under his heel.

He wondered if he was allowed out of his room, and then recklessly decided he didn't care. They could yell at him some more if they wanted to, but he wasn't going to just sit there.

Besides, he hadn't had dinner the previous night, and they had no right to starve him. It was too much like the Dursleys.

He left the room and went down to the kitchen.

Lupin was already there, alone, sipping tea and looking like death warmed over. There were fresh scratch marks on his arms, barely concealed by the sleeves of his ill-fitting robes.

"Good morning," Harry said tentatively.

Lupin made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a huff.

"I wasn't sure if I was allowed out yet."

Lupin spoke without looking at him. "If I were you, I would take your breakfast upstairs before Severus comes down."

Harry nodded glumly.

He filled a bowl with watery, barely hot porridge, clearly re-warmed from the previous morning, and buttered a piece of toast.

He turned to go.

"Take some jam," Lupin said without any expression in his voice.

"Thanks," Harry said, spooning some into his porridge.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Lupin said, still tonelessly. His eyes were closed. "It was an inappropriate response."

Harry didn't know what to say. He settled for, "It wasn't your fault," which was neither how he felt nor what he really meant to say, since it inevitably led to whose fault it really was. "If Snape hadn't --"

Lupin didn't let him finish. "No, Harry. Professor Snape may have overreacted, but I'm afraid I must side with him."

Like you did last night, Harry thought bitterly. "I know it was mostly my fault, but I'd been waiting for a letter, and it was right there."

"That's not an excuse."

Harry sighed. He supposed Lupin was looking for an apology. "Sorry."

Lupin looked disbelieving. Worse, he looked disappointed. Harry didn't know why that still had the power to hurt so much.

"I am," he insisted. "But there isn't anything I can do now. It's not like Snape is really going to give the letter to me."

Lupin was still looking disapprovingly at him, and Harry wanted to turn around and walk out of the kitchen, but didn't, because another part of him wanted Lupin to stop being on Snape's side and be on his side, and help him fix this.

"He's... just going to keep it, isn't he? Just to show me I can't do anything about it."

Lupin said nothing. There was a long silence.

"Was he lying?" Harry asked, even though he hadn't meant to bring it up at all. To his absolute horror, he felt pressure building behind his eyes. He was afraid to say another word, in case it came out wobbly.

"No," Lupin said. "He wasn't lying."

Somehow, hearing it from Lupin made it that much worse.

"Why?"

"At this time I'm not able to say anything more about it," Lupin said, turning away from him and picking up his teacup.

Harry licked his parched lips. He could see Lupin didn't intend to say any more, but Harry simply couldn't just give up.

"Is there any chance he'll give me Hermione's letter? Isn't there anything you could do? Please?"

Lupin shook his head. "'fraid I can't help you," he said in a clipped tone. "Honestly, at fifteen -- almost sixteen now -- you should know how to make things right."

"Well I don't!" Harry said hotly, his anger flaring up suddenly in spite of himself. Where did Lupin suppose he would have learned these skills? From the Dursleys? "So I would appreciate a little help, really!"

Lupin drew in a breath, and Harry was afraid there was going to be more yelling, but after a long moment Lupin let the air out and spoke in an almost calm tone.

"All you can really be expected to do is to act like a decent human being," he said, grating on Harry's raw nerves by echoing Snape. "If you know you're at fault, you need to make it right -- and I don't believe that you truly don't know what that means, Harry -- even if there isn't anything in it for you."

Harry nodded, but felt very dissatisfied. That wasn't much help; Lupin was just saying he had to apologize and was admitting that it wouldn't help with Snape.

"I'll tell you what," Lupin continued. "I will speak to him over breakfast. Find me around lunch time and I will let you know if there's any use hoping for that letter back. Mind, it shouldn't make a difference in what you know you have to do."

Harry considered. Well, it was something, anyway. "Thanks."

"I'm not going to ask him to change his mind, you understand."

Harry nodded, afraid to speak and give something away by his tone.

"Well... you'd best go up, then," Lupin said.

Harry left, and just in time; only minutes after he had shut his bedroom door, he heard Snape heading down to breakfast.

He ate alone, and everything tasted of nothing.

"Look," Lupin said, "I'm not saying I agree with him on everything, but having been your teacher in the past, I do believe he has a valid grievance with the way you act toward your elders."

Harry scowled into his empty teacup.

"I'm sure it's a matter of not realizing how you sound," Lupin continued. "You really can be quite rude. Right now, my advice is to show that you are willing to put some effort into acting properly... and appropriately."

"That's it?" Harry asked, a little sullenly. It didn't sound very helpful.

"That's it," Lupin said firmly, frowning at him. "Of course sincerity always helps, but I can't tell you how to feel. If and when you decide to speak to Professor Snape, I suggest you keep your temper, whatever you do."

Harry considered it. There didn't seem to be any way around it, really. If he ever wanted that letter back, that is. If it wasn't for that, he would be content to never willingly speak to Snape again.

Now that he was resigned to it, he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

"When do you think would be a good time?"

"To speak with him?"

Harry nodded.

Lupin eyed him warily. "I think you should spend some time thinking about what you want to say, and how to best say it. He is working in the library again, and will be all afternoon. I don't think any of the potions are volatile, so you could -- very unobtrusively -- see if he has time to speak with you."

Harry dismissed the idea of thinking out his apology. An entire year worth of thinking couldn't make him sorry for hating Snape.

"Thanks."

Lupin leaned back in his chair and regarded Harry for a moment. "I did warn you I wouldn't get the letter for you, Harry. This is something I feel you need to do for yourself."

"I get it," Harry said, getting up. "It's fine."

It wasn't, of course.

"Good luck," Lupin said.

Harry nodded glumly and headed upstairs.

By the time he was walking up to the library door his feet were dragging.

He really didn't want to do this. Really.

He was certain it wouldn't even do any good. Lupin always did seem to think better of Snape than Snape deserved. More likely Snape would just use the opportunity to berate him.

"Don't lose your temper," he muttered to himself, stopping in front of the door. "Right."

He raised his hand, sighed heavily in resignation, and knocked.

Snape kept him waiting. Harry heard papers shuffling and something heavy being moved, and then a long moment of silence before Snape's footsteps could be heard approaching the door. Harry stepped back.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape asked, having yanked the door open. He held one hand on the edge, clearly ready to slam it shut again if he didn't like what Harry had to say.

"I... uh..." Harry hadn't reckoned on having this conversation out in the hallway. "Can I come in?"

One of Snape's eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly as he eyed Harry. "What could you possibly have to say to me that requires you to enter a room you were expressly barred from?"

That was news to Harry. All Lupin had ever said was that Snape was using the library and Harry might want to give it a wide berth, which Harry just took as good advice.

"I came to apologize, all right?" He tried not to sound like he was gritting his teeth, which he was.

"The faultless Harry Potter has come to... apologize?"

Harry was forced to grit his teeth again. "Yes. Sir."

Snape stepped back to leave enough of the doorway clear for Harry to pass. His tone was still one of taunting disbelief. "Let's hear what you have to say, then."

Harry walked in, all the while trying to get the better of his temper. Less that a minute with Snape and he already felt like exploding.

He couldn't help having a look around.

A long table took up most of the space along the back wall, and on it were piled potions ingredients of all kinds. Two small cauldrons were simmering over a low flame, and another, larger one, was on its side on the floor, caked with yellowish grime and ready to be scoured.

"Had a good look?"

Harry jerked around, realizing that Snape had shut the door and was staring at him maliciously.

"Er..."

"I have work to do, Potter, unlike some people. Get it out, whatever it is, and then leave."

Harry drew in a breath and tried to unclench his jaws.

"I'm very sorry about the way I acted."

Snape stared at him without any change of expression.

"Sir," Harry added.

"And in what way did you act, Potter?"

"I acted like a spoiled brat who expects to get anything he wants." There, that should be good. He was betting it would please Snape to have Harry agree with something he himself always said.

But Snape didn't look at all pleased. "And I suppose now that you've made your 'apology' you expect to get the letter?"

He was looking into Harry's eyes, and Harry tried to both keep his mind blank and to look sincere at the same time. He didn't think he achieved either.

"No, I didn't expect it, actually. But you told me to start acting properly, and I thought it was proper to apologize for my inappropriate behavior."

Snape snorted. "Lupin told you to say that. You would never have thought of that on your own -- you think nothing of the sort."

Harry hadn't expected to get the letter back just for apologizing. He had to remind himself of that fact.

"All right, yes, he did, but I thought if I did apologize, and while I was here, I could ask you what you think I need to do to get Hermione's letter back from you. Sir."

He thought that was clever, even though it had been excruciatingly hard to say. Now Snape would be forced to consider giving the letter to him, which Harry was sure wouldn't have entered his mind before.

Unfortunately, Snape refused to be baited.

"I don't need anything from you, Potter," he said. "The best thing you could do would be what I already told you to do -- remove yourself from my sight."

"But..."

"You're thinking that won't get you what you're after," Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "And you're right, of course. It won't. Everything is always about you, isn't it, Potter?"

He started to pull the door open to let Harry out, obviously considering the conversation over.

"I could help you with your work!" Harry blurted desperately.

He didn't know what made him say it. It had just popped into his head and popped out of his mouth before he could think.

Snape looked disgusted. "I don't need your kind of help. You couldn't even manage an 'Acceptable' on your Potions O.W.L.."

"W-what?" Harry said, startled. "How do you know that?"

"Because," Snape said scathingly, "professors get the results before students do, Potter. We need them to prepare for the next year's classes, given that the number of students accepted to N.E.W.T. level can vary from year to year."

"Oh," Harry said. He felt very deflated. He had known he hadn't done well, of course. Not nearly at the level to be considered good enough by Snape. He had hoped he would scrape an 'Exceeds Expectations', and McGonagall might intervene for him. She had said she would. But if he hadn't passed at all... "Oh."

"Don't tell me," Snape said gratingly. "You're disappointed we won't have another year together. You will miss making a mess of my classroom and having the opportunity to look fashionably incompetent in front of your friends."

"What?" Harry sputtered. "I never did that!"

Snape's expression went very cold.

"I mean..." Harry said quickly, reigning himself in. "I am disappointed I didn't get at least an Exceeds Expectations. I thought I did better. Sir."

Snape didn't deign that worthy of a reply.

"Anyway," Harry said, half-heartedly giving it one last try, "I'm good enough to scrub cauldrons and peel Shrivelfigs... and stuff."

There was a very long moment of silence, while Harry examined the scuffed-up floor and felt Snape's eyes examining him.

"Yes, I suppose you are."

Harry looked up in disbelief.

"And I suppose," Snape continued, "that a certain amount and quality of work on your part might predispose me to believing you once you are ready to make a sincere apology."

Harry felt a stab of anger, and quickly suppressed it. He could apologize again, if another go at it might produce Hermione's letter.

Still, it was hard to say it. "Thank you, sir. What should I do?"

Snape looked at his work table, considering. "The large cauldron must be scrubbed thoroughly -- no magic. There is a bucket of green worms -- those need to be diced, six sections per each. Any mistakes go in the jar next to the cutting board. And there are Shrivelfigs. Peeled and sliced into half-inch-thick slivers."

Harry nodded and started toward the table, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Snape's mouth thinning in anger. It took a moment to think why.

"Er... thank you, sir," he said, trying not to choke on the words. "I'll get right to work."

That had been much, much harder than he would have thought.

"I expect absolute quiet," Snape warned.

"Yes, sir."

"And don't touch anything."

"Yes, sir." He would have to touch what he was working on, of course. Leave it to Snape to set impossible rules.

With an irritable 'Hrmph,' Snape strode over to the table and began measuring out ingredients, which he stirred into one of the cauldrons, completely ignoring Harry.

That was fine with Harry. He had already exhausted a good deal of his nerves, and having to speak to Snape again just then might have caused him to say something unfortunate.

He scrubbed. Scrubbing cauldrons was certainly not his favorite activity, but it was similar to scrubbing floors and windows. Once his arm went from aching to numb, it wasn't so bad.

The worms were disgusting. Small, green, and squishy, they wiggled and curled when he tried to chop them into even pieces. The large jar filled quickly with bits that weren't the right size, while only a few made it into a small silver dish.

"For heaven's sake, Potter," Snape said crossly, looking up from a book, "did you learn nothing in five years of Potions?"

Harry let go of an especially wriggly worm and huffed in frustration. "Apparently not, sir."

"Use the clamps to hold down both ends," Snape said, and Harry only then noticed two small wooden objects, which did indeed look like clamps, lying next to the jar.

"Oh."

He got through the worms and started on the Shrivelfigs.

"I only need four," Snape said as Harry was about to take a fifth. "They don't keep well once peeled. You will do the rest tomorrow."

Harry put the Shrivelfig down. "Yes, sir."

"Clean up and go."

Harry's shoulders slumped. Well, he hadn't expected Snape to hand over the letter after getting only a few hours of labor out of Harry. Still, that meant he wouldn't get the letter until the next day at the very earliest, and most likely not then. If at all. Snape hadn't actually promised. He'd only said it might make a difference when Harry made another apology.

He scrubbed the table clean of Shrivelfig juice and cleaned off the knife he had used.

He tried to think of something to say, so as not to just walk out without another word.

"Er... see you at dinner, sir."

Snape didn't say anything in return, but nodded curtly, and Harry knew that was the best he could expect. He left.

He spent the next twenty minutes washing stains off his fingers, then headed down to the kitchen. He wanted to see if Lupin needed any help with dinner. Not because he wanted to do more work, or because he thought Lupin was likely to forgive him if he was useful, but Lupin had looked very tired the last time Harry had seen him.

"Can I help?" he asked when he saw Lupin chopping vegetables for what looked like some kind of soup.

"I have it covered." Lupin didn't look up, and didn't sound very welcoming.

"I can set the table," Harry persisted.

"You don't need to ask."

Harry set the table.

"I apologized to Professor Snape," he said when he had finished.

Lupin frowned.

"He put me to work for him. Tomorrow, too."

Lupin put down the knife and looked at him, finally. "It might do you some good to have something to do."

"I don't mind," Harry said, lying. He didn't care if the afternoon had passed faster than usual with something, even if it was something unpleasant, to do. "But... he told me I didn't pass Potions."

Lupin frowned again.

"I needed an 'Outstanding' to get into his N.E.W.T.s class," Harry continued, for some reason unable to stop himself. Lupin didn't care, clearly. Maybe Harry needed to get it out, whether anyone cared or not. "But I thought if I got an 'Exceeds Expectations' McGonagall would help me --"

Lupin cut him off. "You can't rely on others to pull strings for you. If you didn't score high enough, the decision is up to Professor Snape."

"I know," Harry said irritably. "That isn't what I meant..."

But, of course, that had been what he had meant. He had counted on McGonagall to change Snape's mind because he couldn't himself.

"Anyway, I didn't pass," he said. "Not even an 'Acceptable'."

Lupin had returned to the cutting board and didn't reply.

Harry sat silently for a while, watching him. Lupin held himself stiffly, like he might be in pain.

"I really am sorry for the way I acted," Harry said. And it was even close to being true this time.

He thought Lupin would ignore him again, but after a moment Lupin rubbed his forehead and said, "Let's just forget it happened, Harry. We both said rash, unthoughtful things, and they're hard to take back... Let's just forget it happened."

Harry knew that would be impossible to do, but he nodded quickly. "Let's."

"You can fill that pot over there with water."

Harry filled it and lugged it over to the stove.

He watched Lupin for a while.

"Isn't there anything you can do about those scratches?" he asked. They looked like they would be painful, and Lupin was favoring his left wrist.

Lupin looked down at his left arm, which was particularly torn up, as though noticing it for the first time. "Not much, but Severus will have something for me."

Harry wondered if any of the potions he had watched Snape brewing had been for Lupin. He certainly looked like he could use all of them.

"I need flour," Lupin said after a few minutes. "It's in the cupboard on your right."

"Sure," Harry said, and turned -- "Er..."

"Problem?"

Harry blinked. It had suddenly hit him just what it was that had been nagging at the back of his mind since he'd arrived at Grimmauld Place.

"That's Kreacher's room, isn't it?"

"Not anymore," Lupin said. His lips tightened into a thin line.

"Where is he?" Harry asked, feeling old anger stirring inside him. How he could have forgotten, he did not know.

"Gone," Lupin said curtly. "Relocated by the Office of House-Elf Relocation. He wasn't bound to the house, and you are not a Black."

"Oh," Harry said. He hoped Kreacher's new family deserved him... and vice versa.

His hand still shook slightly as he pulled the cupboard door open.

All of Kreacher's things were gone. The boiler was partly hidden behind a checkered curtain and a new row of shelves.

He got the flour and shut the door with relief.

He could see that Lupin, though he hadn't turned around or stopped what he was doing, was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"Can I do anything else?" Harry asked, putting the bag of flour down on the counter.

"No. You might as well go upstairs and wash up and change," Lupin said. "Your shirt is foul."

Harry looked down and saw that the front of his shirt was streaked with pale green -- worm guts -- and had a dark ring across his stomach where he had leaned over the cauldron. "Sorry. I didn't notice."

"Just go change," Lupin said. "You have plenty of time before dinner."

Harry went upstairs, passing Snape on the way up. Snape was carrying a glass goblet with red, bubbling liquid, and didn't acknowledge Harry, who hugged the wall to avoid brushing against him.

Up in his room, he changed quickly and scrubbed his hands again.

He couldn't help thinking how likely it was that Snape and Lupin were discussing him right at that very moment. He would give a lot to hear what Snape had to say about their afternoon together.

Maybe...

He quickly squashed the thought. He was in enough trouble as it was; he didn't need to get caught listening at doors.

Just the same, he went down to the kitchen rather sooner than he intended.

He was half-way down the last flight of stairs when he distinctly heard Snape's voice.

"Better?"

There was a contented sort of "Mmmm..." in reply.

"Come up to my room later tonight. You really have done a job on yourself this time."

Harry frowned. He had stopped, despite his intentions not to allow himself to listen in, still out of sight.

"Thank you," Lupin was saying.

There was a silence, and Harry knew he really should move, either back upstairs or all the way down, but part of him was waiting for more.

"Harry told me he apologized," Lupin said, making Harry lean forward eagerly.

Snape snorted. "Parroted your exact words, I don't doubt."

"I was afraid he would." Lupin sighed heavily. "I don't think he --"

"I don't think he's capable of feeling sincerely apologetic regardless of what he's guilty of -- hold still, Lupin, unless you want this potion in your lap -- he's too arrogant and sure of his own overimportance... though I admit he surprised me by offering to work. Was that your suggestion?"

"No, it wasn't. Surprised me, as well. I half-expected you'd throw him out on his ear without hearing him out. There wasn't an ounce of sincerity in him when we spoke -- you're right about that. To tell you the truth I was growing worried that he didn't come back right away."

Snape didn't reply.

"I do think..." Lupin hesitated. "Well, honestly, I don't know what to think sometimes. Was he respectful, at least?"

"Respectful enough when given no other option."

"Yes..." Lupin sighed again. "I've noticed -- no, Severus, I really have, I'm not making excuses for him in this regard. Neither modeling proper behavior nor admonishing him when he's rude seems to do a bit of good."

"Spoiled beyond all reason," Snape said.

"I had hoped he would settle down," Lupin said. "If I had the strength and the patience..."

"You had better pull yourself together before the start of term," Snape said critically. "It won't get easier."

Lupin's voice was low. "I'm trying, Severus."

There was a short pause.

"I know."

"I... I don't know what I would do if you weren't here."

"Drinking yourself to death, no doubt," Snape said harshly. "Letting those halfwits walk all over you. The cellar, Lupin? Whose idea was it?"

Lupin laughed mirthlessly. "It was the one place no one would follow me. Don't lecture me, Severus, your dungeon is barely habitable."

"Lupin..."

"Let's not argue anymore. I really am grateful to you. And for Harry's sake, too."

Snape sniffed derisively.

"I don't think you should have told him," Lupin continued. "Not yet."

"I admit it wasn't ideal."

Lupin sighed. "No. None of this is ideal. I had hoped..."

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't get that look on your face. I'm only doing this because we both know there is no other way."

Harry crept down another step, ears straining.

"I know, Severus," Lupin said softly. "I just couldn't help hoping... With Sirius gone, he has no one left."

"He doesn't want anyone. Haven't you noticed? Anyone who tries to exert any sort of authority over him is treated with nothing but contempt. He's doing it to you; he did it to Dumbledore; I'm convinced the only reason he got on so well with Black was that Black encouraged him rather than try to take him in hand."

"That's not true. Sirius had his faults, I know, but his intentions were good."

Harry braced himself for Snape's retort. Anger was already bubbling up inside him. What did Snape know about anything?

To his absolute aggravation, whatever Snape said next was spoken too low for him to catch.

"I know," Lupin said, his voice barely louder than Snape's, and sounding a bit hoarse. "I know. Thank you for saying that."

"Potter will muddle through," Snape said. "He'll be fine. You need to worry about yourself..."

"Severus, I... not here... Harry will be down any minute, I don't care for another row..."

Harry had a sudden, sinking realization of what could be happening. Without thinking, he stomped down the rest of the steps into the kitchen.

The two men looked at him, startled, Snape dropping Lupin's arm as though it were a piece of hot coal and stepping back. His face was furious.

Lupin jumped up from his seat, yanking down his rolled-up sleeves, and quickly schooled his features into an overly friendly expression.

"Harry, there you are," he said. "I wondered what was keeping you. Well, come on, grab a chair." He darted an uncomfortable look at Snape. "Professor Snape was just helping me apply a new potion. It's amazing how much it's helped already."

Harry had managed to clamp his mouth shut around whatever outburst had almost broken free. He was still breathing hard, but he had managed to get himself under control. Maybe he had been completely off, and it would do absolutely no good to reveal that he'd been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I... I tripped on the stairs," he lied. "Dudley's old trousers... too big, you know?"

Snape looked at him as though Harry were a squashed insect on the bottom of his shoe.

"I'm sure I can alter them to fit better," Lupin said, visibly relaxing. "It's a simple charm. We'll take care of it after dinner."

They ate. Harry tried not to be obvious, but he looked very closely at Lupin throughout dinner, and, just once, at Snape. He had found Snape looking him over with an unnerving intensity, and from then on kept his eyes averted.

Lupin kept up his unusually cheerful demeanor, despite the fact that Harry was barely concentrating on what was being said, and so did not reply appropriately half the time, and Snape did not reply at all.

"Perhaps later, Harry, you can tell me more about what was covered in Defense Against the Dark Arts last year," Lupin said.

Harry stared at him. That would take all of five seconds. Lupin knew that. "Sure. I think I still have all our assignments."

"Great!" Lupin said. "That might be just what I need."

Snape pushed away his plate and stood up.

"Aren't you going to finish your soup, Severus?" Lupin asked. Snape's plate was half full.

"No," Snape said cuttingly. "I do wish you would have food delivered, Lupin."

Lupin looked bewildered and slightly hurt. "Was there something wrong with it?"

"It was bland," Snape said scathingly, making 'bland' sound like the worst possible insult a dish could receive.

Lupin blinked several times, frowning, and then Harry thought he saw another expression -- what was it? -- fleet briefly across his face.

"Oh," Lupin said, his voice carefully expressionless. "I am sorry you don't find my cooking palatable, Severus."

Snape sniffed derisively and picked up the empty goblet from the counter. "I have several potions to attend to," he said. "I do not wish to be disturbed for the remainder of the evening."

"Of course," Lupin said, nodding. "Have a good evening."

Harry watched the exchange with growing unease and confusion. He had the distinct feeling that he was watching a show put on for his benefit, and yet Snape genuinely looked angry with Lupin, while Lupin seemed to be masking his emotions with exaggerated politeness. It seemed such a departure from what he had overheard earlier that Harry only felt more mixed-up than ever.

"What was that all about?" he asked when Snape had left.

"Oh..." Lupin shrugged. "Professor Snape does not like my cooking, apparently. How is your soup, Harry?"

"It's fine," Harry said at once, though until then he had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to actually taste what he was eating. In any case, he had never noticed anything wrong with the food Lupin prepared; it was even decent when it was re-warmed from the previous day. "It's great!"

Lupin smiled at him. "Would you rather have take away?"

"No," Harry said vehemently. "Don't listen to Snape."

Lupin stopped smiling.