"Severus."

Snape halted in the narrow antechamber behind the staff table.  He straightened his shoulders and bit back the caustic response that sprang to his lips.  The witch came up behind him, her heels clicking imperiously on the stone floor.  Rather than wait for her tiresome platitudes, he interposed, cutting off whatever she was about to say.

"Congratulations, Minerva. I'm sure you are most delighted.  Well done."

Minerva paused, searching his face anxiously.  "Severus, I. . ."

"If you'll excuse me, I must make an appearance at my House now.  My students will need me."  He turned to stalk off but her hand on his arm stopped him.

"Severus," Minerva's expression was pained.  "You know I have wished for this. . . I won't deny I have longed to display the House Cup in my office for several years now." Her voice dropped to a vibrant murmur.  "But this is not how I wanted to win it. . . .not like this."    Severus allowed his gaze to meet hers.  There was genuine regret in her sharp blue eyes.  "It was unfair, Severus.  Please believe me when I say, I had no idea Albus was planning such a thing. I would not have agreed if I'd known."

"I believe you," Severus replied coolly, to Minerva's obvious relief. "It was not completely unexpected.  Potter and his friends did earn those points. . . if for no other reason than to make up for those they lost unfairly earlier in the year."  He quirked a sardonic half-smile.  "In the end, I believe they barely broke even.  I do not begrudge you their recompense."

"That is generous of you, Severus," Minerva shook her head.  ‘It is not their points that upsets me. . . it is the place and manner of their awarding," she grimaced.  "I'm sure Albus didn't mean to be cruel. . .he was just indulging his love for spectacle, I suppose.  He does adore drama," she snorted softly.  "But it was unfair to your House to spring it on us at the Feast,  in that heartless way."

Severus nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily.  "It was hard on my little Snakes.  Before the Feast they were euphoric. . .  of course we had all seen the point counters; they knew they were in first place. They were so proud to see their banners decorating the Hall.  It was disappointing for them, to have it taken away so abruptly. . ."

"I know," Minerva agreed in sympathy.  "I saw their faces.  It was a rude shock.  Severus, I'm so sorry."

"It is not your fault, Minerva,"  he patted her hand awkwardly.  "Life is full of disappointments.  My Snakes, of all the houses, must learn this at an early age."

"They are children," Minerva said with tight-lipped unhappiness. "They should not be forced to face such disillusionment so young.  It isn't right -  this enmity and jealousy - this bias against Slytherin hurts us all."

"It cannot be helped.  That bias has been present here long before either of us," Severus sighed.

"Sometimes I'd like to wring Albus Dumbledore's blind, insensitive neck!" she hissed irritably.

"Your indignation on our behalf is appreciated, Minerva.  But please don't let it spoil your own triumph.  You should be with your little Lions."  He gave her a wan smile.  "With the celebrations that are certainly brewing, I expect you will be hard put this evening to keep your Tower intact."

"I suppose I should check on the little blighters," Minerva agreed wryly.  "I just wanted you to know how sorry I was that the Headmaster handled this so poorly."

"It won't matter - not in the long run.  Don't fret over something out of your control,"  Severus said politely.  "Now if you'll excuse me, I fear I have some soothing of hurt feelings to tend to."  He gave her a tiny bow and strode off, his posture not as proud as normal, but his robes billowing with their customary flair.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Professor McGonagall was not the only one to offer Severus sympathy.  Flitwick and Sprout, among others, had also noted the Slytherins'  shocked disappointment, and spoke quiet words of regret about the affair to Snape in passing the next day.  Hooch was the most outspoken, calling the Headmaster's abrupt rewarding of the House Cup to Gryffindor "underhanded" and "very poor sportsmanship." 

"You don't go changing the rules at the end of the match to ensure your team wins," she'd snapped in militant disgust.  "Not done, that - poor form."

Severus had thanked them all for their concern and sympathy, but he hadn't bothered to seek out the Headmaster.  Severus knew Albus.  It didn't matter if he protested - it didn't matter how justified his complaints. A confrontation was useless.  He knew from long experience, that by the time he left the Headmaster's office, he would only find himself agreeing with the frustrating old wizard.

The one offer of regret that did surprise him came the last morning of the term. . .from none other than Harry Potter - Dumbledore's Golden Boy himself.  Upon arriving at Severus' rooms (promptly at eight-thirty, as requested) for the promised shared breakfast, Harry had immediately stammered a guilt-ridden apology. 

"It is not necessary for you to feel in any way responsible, Mr. Potter," Severus had replied calmly.  "You earned those points fairly, for your infernal Gryffindor bravery, (even though you should not, as I have stated before, taken it upon yourself to take such a risk.)  The awarding of the House Cup is the Headmaster's prerogative.  You need not feel guilty for having excelled.  You should feel proud your House has won this honor."

"I guess," Harry agreed reluctantly.  "I was happy at first. But it was kinda mean to do it like he did - letting your House think they had won and then changing it in front of everyone like that, don't you think?  The Headmaster could have awarded our points before the Feast - then no one would have been surprised."  He sighed sadly.  "I guess Draco really hates me now."

Severus suppressed a small smile.  "Draco was understandably disappointed, but I do not believe he blames you."

Harry looked skeptical, but he let it go.  He asked a few shy questions about his mother, prompting Severus to recount a few tales of the origins of his covert friendship with Lily.  Harry listened with rapt fascination, and Severus had to remind him to eat several times.

"You should ask Professors McGonagall and Flitwick about your mother," Severus suggested. "They knew her quite well.  Lily excelled at Charms and she was one of Professor Flitwick's favorite students.  And Professor McGonagall was especially fond of her.  They remained friends after Lily graduated and married your father."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes," Severus nodded. "Professor McGonagall was a frequent visitor to their home.  I believe she occasionally looked after you as a baby, when Lily and James went out together."

Harry looked slightly appalled.  "She did?"

"Indeed."

"Brilliant," Harry grumbled self-consciously.  "Just what I wanted to hear - my Head of House used to babysit me!"

"She did," Severus couldn't resist teasing the boy.  "She fed you your bottle and changed your nappies."

"Urrrgh!" Harry growled.  He blushed bright red and covered his face with his hands.  "That's humiliating!  Did you have to tell me that?  Now I'll never be able to look her in the face again!"

Severus chuckled.  Harry peeked up at him from behind his fingers, surprised by the unfamiliar sound. "You did that on purpose," he accused. "Just to embarrass me."

Severus cocked an eyebrow wryly.  "That is not a challenge.  Little boys embarrass so easily."

"I'm not a little boy!" Harry protested crossly.  "I'll be twelve in July, you know."  He grew visibly downcast and poked listlessly at his eggs.  His change of demeanor prompted Severus to question him.

"You do not seem appropriately elated about your impending holiday, as most students do. Is there something troubling you?"

Harry didn't answer right away, but studied Severus solemnly from beneath his messy bangs.  He seemed to be weighing some decision in his mind, and when he finally spoke, it was with nervous hesitation.  "Why can't I stay here, at Hogwarts, over the summer?"

Severus blinked, surprised by the question.

"Professor Dumbledore said it wasn't allowed for students to stay during summers, but I don't understand why not!" Harry insisted petulantly.  "I wouldn't be any trouble!  I could even work to pay my way!" he urged softly, warming to his argument.  "I can cook and clean and garden. . . . I could help Hagrid with the grounds, and Professor Sprout in the greenhouses. . . I could even clean the potions labs - you know,  organize things and wash cauldrons, and such.  I could be dead useful, really I could!  And if I can't stay in the dorm, well - I'm sure Hagrid would let me sleep at his place!  Why can't I stay?" he ended on a near whine, then ducked his head as if he was embarrassed by his own outburst.

"I expect the Headmaster does not wish to set a precedent," Severus answered carefully, his racing thoughts not only on his reply, but on the motives behind the disturbing request. An ominous alarm went off in his mind - an alarm he had ignored before, he suddenly realized.  "If he allowed one student to stay, others might also request it.  The next thing you know, we would have a pack of students cluttering up the place over summer," he imparted a wry smile. "That would be most unfair to the staff.  Even Professors deserve a holiday, Harry!"  He noted the boy did not acknowledge the small joke. "Harry - why would you want to stay at Hogwarts over your summer break?  Don't you want to go home?"

And there it was - laid out between them, like an unwelcome obstacle.  There was a slight pause.  Severus expectantly watched the boy struggle for an answer.

"I just want to stay here," Harry finally muttered lamely.  "See - I never lived with magic before this year, and now. . .now I don't want to be without it."

Severus considered the child sitting before him, his head down, his eyes on his empty plate.  "Students aren't allowed to use magic during the summer break, Harry," he replied, knowing instinctively there was more to this than the flimsy excuse.  "Is there some other reason for your request?  Most students are homesick by now- anxious to return to their families. Do you not miss your home? Your family?" 

Harry shrugged dismissively.  "I guess. It's not like returning to a wizard home, or living with a magical family.  It's different living with Muggles."

"In what way?" Severus pushed gently.

"It just is." The boy fidgeted with his fork. 

"Harry?"  Severus leaned forward and eyed him speculatively.  "Are you unhappy at home?  Is that why you don't want to leave Hogwarts?"

The boy looked up at him and blinked.  Severus was dismayed to see a familiar denial flicker in the boy's green eyes.  His expression shifted and hardened, becoming neutrally bland.  "No," he stated flatly.  "I just wanted to stay in the wizarding world.  I guess it is kinda childish.  I mean I'll be back in September, after all."

Severus studied him intently.  He toyed briefly with the idea of probing the boy's mind - seeking the truth in the young, unprotected mind.  But the trust between them was fragile at best.  The boy might notice or sense the intrusion.  Severus was almost certain such an invasion would destroy that trust. He decided instead to exploit that trust. . .perhaps the boy would open up to him willingly.

"You can talk to me about anything, Harry," he said softly.  "Anything that troubles you.  You do know you can trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied quickly.

"Sometimes," Severus continued dispassionately,  "If there is a problem at home, children hesitate to talk about it.  They fear reprisals, or that no one will believe them.  You don't need to fear that, Harry."  Harry frowned at him.  "If you have a problem at home. . . if there is some reason you are unhappy there, you should tell someone.  If you don't wish to discuss it with me, I'm sure Professor McGonagall would be more than sympathetic. . ."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Professor," Harry cut him off coolly.  "There's no problem. . .it's just. . .look, I just wanted to stay in the magical world, okay?  Hogwarts - this past year has been so amazing for me.  I guess I was a little afraid that when I went back home, where everything was so - so like it was before I came here - that I'd. . .I'd forget - like it all wouldn't seem real anymore. It's just dumb," he declared.  "I know I won't forget.  I was just being silly."

"It's not silly if it is how you truly feel," Severus offered.

But Harry shook his head brusquely.  "It's not important.  Look - I don't want you to think I'm just some whiny kid. Just forget I asked, okay?"  He stared up at Severus with almost desperate pleading behind his stubborn, veiled gaze.

Not ready yet, are we boy?  Well - we'll try again another time.

Severus nodded slowly.  "Very well.  But I don't want you to forget what I said.  You can talk to me, Harry. I don't think you are a ‘whiny kid'. I will listen, and I won't judge."  For a moment Harry's stony face softened and he thought the boy would speak up, but the moment passed too swiftly.  The determined mask slipped back into place.

"Thank you, Professor," the boy said politely and pushed away from the table, rising. "I suppose I'd best go.  I still have a few things left to pack."

"Harry?" Severus followed him to the door, making a quick decision.  He took a deep breath and offered a privilege he never granted any student.   "If you wish, you may write to me this summer. . .I will reply, if you chose to do so."

Harry looked up,  startled pleasure erasing the stoic detachment in his face.  "Really?"  Dismay washed over his features.  "Oh. I can't.  I won't have Hedwig.  My. . .my Uncle hates owls.  He won't want her in the house.  I decided to ask Ron to keep her for me for the summer.  She'll be happier with him."

"I can write to you first, and instruct the school owl to wait for a reply, if you wish."

Harry grinned shyly.  "That would be terrific!  I'd like that.  Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, Harry," Severus held open the door for him.  Harry hesitated, smiling up at him.  Severus noticed an unusual moistness in the boy's bright eyes.  To his utter shock, the boy suddenly lunged at him, grabbing him in a fierce, brief hug.  Severus stiffened, too startled to react. 

"I'll miss you, Professor," Harry whispered hoarsely, then pulled away, his cheeks suffused with a pink blush. "Umm - thanks for everything," the boy muttered in confused embarrassment.

Belatedly, Severus realized a response to the child's affectionate gesture was called for. He cautiously placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and patted him lightly. "Do try to stay out of trouble, Mr. Potter," he murmured with muted warmth.  "I shall expect regular reports on your progress with your summer assignments."

"Have a nice holiday, Professor," Harry grinned and dashed off, his thumping footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Noisy child! Severus harrumphed.  Why must little boys always run everywhere?  Why can't they simply walk?

He called for Roker to clear away the breakfast remains and pulled on his teaching robes.  One last duty demanded his attention before his holiday began:  seeing off his little Snakes - insuring luggage was properly packed,  stray belongings were claimed, and  no one got left behind.  He turned to that familiar duty with somewhat less gleeful anticipation than was usual.