The heat was unbearable. And though the beat up old Chevy may not have had air conditioning, it did have large windows that let the wind blow on their faces as they broke speed limits while racing down interstates. It was gloriously cooling in a free-living sort of way, very seventies and cinematic. But, the car had broken down some four miles east of where Harry Potter was currently walking on I88 and the 70 MPH concocted wind had ceased. His hair clung in clumps on the back of his neck and the dirt from the road mingled with his sweat; he looked like a dirty hippie and really, it was rather apt.

The exit ramp was looming closer and the 16-year-old reveled in the brief breezes he was gifted with as cars zoomed past him, completely unaware of who he was and exactly what he meant to the world. Which, if he were honest, he rather enjoyed. Under his feet, the asphalt steamed; he could smell the old tar and the slight tinge of wasted gasoline, and his feet stirred up the brown dirt and sand and pebbles built up by years of travelers, not unlike himself.

Hermione and Ron were both still with the car, Ron passed out in the back seat snoring away and Hermione keeping watch over their possessions. Harry had volunteered to be the poor schmuck to retrieve help. He regretted that now. Starting down the exit ramp, he hastily wiped another bead of sweat from his forehead. He wanted a shower. Badly.

 ‘A gas station,' he thought as an Exxon came into view, ‘perfect.' Another rivet of sweat dripped from his eyebrow; he was positive if a Death Eater popped up in front of him at that moment and offered him a shower in exchange for joining them, he’d be branded with the mark before sunset.

The last steps leading to the gas station were torture as all Harry wanted to do was use the American Muggle change jingling in his pocket to buy himself an ice cold Coke from the vending machine in front of the service station. Then, he'd enter into the air conditioning and call a tow truck. Priorities, you know.

The whole stupid idea had started the previous summer when, in a bid to cheer Harry up, Hermione had taken Harry to the Muggle cinema. The movie, aptly entitled ‘Summer Roads,’ chronicled four friends who, the summer before their last year of high school, took off on a cross-country road trip where they met life lessons, love, luck and some tragedy.

Later on in the summer at The Burrow, they spoke in hushed but excited whispers in the Weasley garden, telling Ron of what they saw and plotting their own bildungsroman centered escape. They drew up maps and pooled savings, forged British licenses and searched for a car. When the next summer came around, they quietly vanished from the UK and popped up again somewhere in West Virginia. The old Chevy Nova was rusted and rickety, but it was theirs and maybe the names and birthdates on their new American ID cards weren’t real, but they claimed ownership of those as well. It was two weeks of awesome anonymity. Denny’s lunches, Cracker Barrel dinners, and breakfasts from corner marts and delis and seven-elevens. They downed Redbulls like it was water and bought cheesy souvenirs from every truck stop they passed.

Then the car broke down.

With the service attendant nowhere to be seen, Harry pressed 5 quarters into the machine, selected the cola and instantly drank down half the bottle as soon as he picked it up, and with no adult to chastise him, he belched loudly and proudly.

He leaned against the outer wall of the station and surveyed his surroundings. Whatever town he was in was old and sad, elderly women sat on rockers on their porches and the men swept dirt from the gutters on the street. A lone postage truck with three of its hubcaps missing sat in front of an even older general store and in its parking lot, a dog licked at a greasy, unhealthy looking stain. Once, the town may have charm, but that disappeared with the youths that managed to get away and never return.

 The rolling of an engine drew Harry’s attention away from the miserable town and a black Camaro pulled in and drove up to one of the pumps. From the driver's seat stepped a tall man with shoulder length black hair pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a fitted black tee, blue jeans held up by a black belt with silver belt buckle, and black boots. His face was hidden behind dark sunglasses.

With arms littered with tattoos and a black band covering most of his left forearm, the man swiped a credit card and began to fill his tank. There was something positively familiar about him that Harry couldn't place. But, it meant nothing to him; he was too hot to honestly care and this guy was as good as any to help. The early July sun beat down upon the young wizard as he pushed himself off the wall and walked toward him.

He did not notice Harry approaching as he leaned back against his car, clicked the nozzle so it would continue to fill without him holding it, and very daringly lit a cigarette. Propping one leg against the car, the man inhaled and sighed contently. The pack of Marlboro Reds was left on the hood of the car next to a green Bic lighter. He exhaled a stream of smoke and took another deep drag.

"Excuse me, sir?" Harry spoke, in his most polite tone of course.

The man exhaled the smoke from his mouth and turned to the voice. As soon as his eyes landed on the sweating teen approaching him, he stood up straight and immediately put his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot. "Potter! What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Harry froze. No. It couldn't be. "Professor Snape?" Disbelief was an understatement. Where were the billowing black robes? Where did the tattoos and the James Dean mannerisms come from? Bloody hell, what was he doing in America, of all places, and why was he driving a bloody Camaro and smoking Muggle Cigarettes?

"Eloquent as usual, Potter." He slid his sunglasses off and peered at the teen. "Explanation, if you will."

"I...uh..." Well, if there was anyone who could help him and his friends, it was Snape (Though, he knew that they were caught and in serious trouble.), right? "Ron, Hermione, and I broke down up the road. On the interstate. I walked here for help."

"Oh, that perfectly explains why you're in America."

"We were on a road trip, sir. But the car started making this weird croaking noise and we pulled over but I think it's overheated or something because it won't start back up and I just need a phone to call a tow truck and-"

Snape held up his hand to silence him. The gas nozzle clicked off and he replaced the lever and closed his gas tank. "Get in. East or west of here?"

"Sir?"

"I'm aware that though in America, they do still speak English here, do they not?"

"Yes, sir." Harry obliged and opened the passenger side door. He slid into the seat and sighed contently as Snape restarted the car and cold air blew from the vents.

"East or west, Potter?" He snapped, replacing his sunglasses onto his face.

"East, sir."

“And put your damn seatbelt on!”

Harry quickly did as he was told, watching warily as Snape slipped a CD from a visor holder into the radio. He skipped up several songs and hit play and music that came blaring out of the speakers only served to confuse the teen's perceptions of his professor even more. A guitar began, sliding up and down the scales, followed by drums and a bass. Snape beat out the tempo on his steering wheel, barely aware of the child seated next to him as he pulled out of the gas station and back onto the interstate.

It was Snape beginning to sing along that really took Harry for a loop, "She's got a smile that it seems to me reminds me of childhood memories..." His voice, though deep, was actually fairly melodic.

"Sir?!" Harry - though he hated it - was quite used to and comfortable with his old image of his professor: the greasy bat of the dungeons. This was...unnerving. "Sir?" He repeated.

"Shh!" Snape scolded, as a guitar solo began, "Do not desecrate Guns 'N Roses by interrupting. THAT is rule number one!"

Harry's mouth dropped. What was this? "Who are you and what have you done with my potions professor?" Instead of answering, Snape just held up his hand, tapped his four fingers down against his thumb in a signal of a mouth shutting, and continued to sing along. "Oh, whoa, whoa, sweet child o' mine!" Harry wisely stayed quiet through the rest of the song.

As it ended, Snape skipped up two more songs and the blasting guitars made Harry nearly jump through his skin. “AC/DC!” Snape shouted over the music as if that was supposed to explain everything.

They were nearing the break down site and as Snape pulled the car onto the shoulder, Harry could see that Ron was awake and sitting with Hermione on the hood of the car. The young woman had taken off her shirt and was wearing just a white tank top and denim shorts; she was lazily sunning herself while Ron scowled at what looked like the beginnings of sunburn on his arms. Spotting the car approaching, they stood and walked halfway toward the Camaro, only picking up pace when Harry stepped out, 'Hells Bells' still blaring from the speakers.

"Harry! Mate! We were getting worried!" Ron called out as he jogged closer. "Who-" But he stopped speaking as Snape exited the car and pulled off his sunglasses.

"Bloody hell!"

"Beautifully spoken, Mr. Weasley. Now, if you would be so kind as to pop the hood of your car?" The Potions Master breezed past the two teens, oozing impatience and coolness and stood by the hood of the Chevy, waiting.

Seeing that his friends were making no move to do so, Harry jogged over to the car, reached through the window, and popped open the hood.

Snape pulled out his wand and did a quick diagnostic check on the engine. Frowning, he said, "You blew your head gasket; this car is as good as junk now."

"What?" Harry exclaimed, "Can't we fix it?" He felt his heart drop; this was his last shot at normalcy!

"3,000 in American dollars. They'd have to take the whole engine apart to fix it. Are you willing to pay that?"

"No, sir, I guess not." Harry sighed.

"Figured as much." Snapping the hood closed, Snape sauntered over to the passenger side and opened the door. "Collect your stuff and put it in my car." He dictated as he opened up the glove box.

"Why?"

"If you wish to stay with a broken car, that's your prerogative, but I highly doubt Minerva would be pleased with me if I left her golden Gryffindors in the middle of the bloody highway on the hottest damn day of the summer!" Taking his keys, he began to scratch at the inside of the glove box.

Harry paused in grabbing his duffle from the backseat, "What are you doing?"

"Removing the V.I.N. number so we can leave the car here. This way it can't be easily traced back to you; highway patrol would just as well have it towed and junked instead of trying to find the owners."

"You've done this before?" Hermione, finally recovered from the shock of seeing her potions professor, said.

"These highways are littered with cars my friends and I dumped; I'm an expert." With an uncharacteristic grin, Snape shut the glove box and stood up. He tossed Ron his keys. "Open my trunk."

The redhead squeaked and did so, dumping his bag and pillow inside and helping Hermione with hers. After Harry had added his own to the trunk and had cleared the rest of the Chevy, he offered the two the rest of his Coke. Hermione declined, but Ron happily drank the rest.

Grabbing a screwdriver from his own glove box, Snape proceeded to remove the license plates. "As Potter was the one who walked to the gas station, he gets shot gun."

"Sir?"

Snape rolled his eyes at the redhead. "The front seat, Weasley."

Hermione giggled. "Such a wizard, Ron."

Huffing, Ron retorted, "So sorry I'm not up on muggle dialect, ‘Mione. Wasn't exactly raised one, you know."

She shrugged and looked at Snape, "How do you know about this stuff? I never took you as the...well...muggle transportation type."

"There's much you do not know about me, Granger. Get in the car. It's too bloody hot out here and I'm late as it is." Snape said. He handed Hermione the license plates, “To remember your doomed Nova by. Pity, they’re excellent cars.”

She looked at the plates longingly. “Well, it was good while it lasted.”

"Oi, where do you think he's going, mate?" Ron whispered to Harry as they watched Snape sit in the driver's seat. "Think he's going to the caverns we passed to recollect with the bats like some sort of school reunion?"

Harry snickered, thinking of the billboards they passed that advertised caves to tourists. "Maybe he lives in them, sleeps upside down, only comes out to feed."

"I'm not deaf, you imbeciles. Get in the damn car." Their professor snapped. Squeaking again, Ron hurried into the backseat next to Hermione, nearly tripping over the seatbelt as he did so.

"Sorry, Professor." Harry said, taking his own seat and at least having the decency to look abashed.

But Snape just shrugged; they weren't at Hogwarts and no one other than his friends in America knew anything of him unless people recognized him through someone else. He could act himself here: he didn't have to scold anyone for rude comments he so often made himself. And, in truth, the comments about him living in the caverns and speaking with the bats were rather amusing, though he would never admit any of that to the three teens now seated in his precious Camaro. And really, who would believe them?

"I am on my way to visit an old friend, yet seeing as how I now have three students with me...we are now on our way to see an old friend."

"But--"

"But nothing, Ms. Granger. I'm not canceling my plans for you three. I expect you will all be on your BEST behavior. You will use Georgie's phone to contact whomever about finding new means of transport, and hopefully be out of my hair by tomorrow."

The muttered ‘Ew' from Ron in the backseat made Snape inwardly chuckle.

"You mean...you're not going to send us back?" Harry asked.

"You're safe here, as no one, now save me, know that you're in America." Harry's mouth hit the floor when Snape winked at him, "This is the type of rebelliousness I condone, Potter."

Clicking through the CD, Snape chose some song called “Paradise City” by the same band that he had first played.

Reenacting itself from when Harry had gotten into the car at the service station, the potions master beat out the drums on his steering wheel and sang along. His speed picked up as they entered back onto the highway, weaving around cars moving too slow for him. Harry, glancing at the speedometer, blanched when he saw it reaching near 90 miles per hour. "Sir?"

Snape briefly looked at the teen seated next to him. "Relax, Potter, I won't get pulled over by a cop."

"A speeding ticket is the least of our worries," Harry muttered as they once again sped around a slow moving car, cleanly cutting off the other in the lane next to them. A brief glance in the backseat saw Ron clenching the overhanging bar above the window, his knuckles white.

Snape laughed wickedly when he saw the redhead in his rear-view mirror. "The ‘oh-shit' bar, marvelous invention, is it not?"

"Oh shit is right! Slow down!"

But Snape only grinned and sped up, the speedometer hitting closer to 100 with each passing second.

"Professor!" Ron screeched in fright.

Snape looked next to him with an exaggerated groan, "Potter, please explain the rules when this band is on."

Harry angled his body to see his friends, "We do not desecrate Guns ‘N Roses by talking." He shrugged, not fully understanding this new side to their professor, but beginning to find it overly amusing; this wasn‘t the Snape they knew, but almost immediately, he knew that he liked this one better. A lot better. Loads better.

"Five points to Gryffindor for the respect of Gun ‘N Roses."

Harry grinned and began to tap out the beat on his lap. He failed to see the smile on his professor's face when the older man noticed his interest in the song. Hermione, however, did observe the sly grin and wondered just how much of their professor they really didn't know about. He was still sarcastic and somewhat insulting, but it wasn't as...‘Well,' she mused, ‘he isn't being as mean about it. It's almost like it's all in good fun.'

To say she was confused was an understatement, but Hermione wasn't a prefect or top witch of their class for nothing. She was going to figure this out whether Snape liked it or not!

It was near dinnertime when Snape pulled into the driveway of a large white house. It sat on a country road not far from the interstate, its neighbors much farther down the road. He deftly swerved around a pothole and shot into the driveway with a practiced ease. “Wish the old man would fix that, he muttered to himself. And as soon as he pulled the keys from the ignition, the front door was swung open by a muscular man in a white tee-shirt and black leather vest. His arms were even more decorated than Snape's and his grayed hair was cropped short on his head. "Sev! You son of a bitch! ‘Bout God damned time!" The American accent shouted loudly and the man barreled down the steps and took Snape in a crushing bear hug.

"Had a bit of detour, Georgie." He gestured toward the three teens slowly getting out of the car. "I found three of my students stranded on 88, Minerva would have my head on a platter if she found out I left them there, they're in her house."

The other man laughed, "Hah! Minnie would never! Who would she torment if she killed you?"

Snape grinned, "Good point, if these weren't the infamous Golden Trio. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter," he pointed each teen out respectively, "And this is Georgie Bryce."

Georgie peered at each student and smiled in turn. When his gaze landed on Harry, he grinned. "The fucking savior of the world and the bane of Sevvy's existence, pleasure to meet you! You're my idol!"

He shook Harry's hand enthusiastically. "Huh?" Harry said.

"Anyone who can manage to annoy Sev as much as you do, earns my respect from the get go. Come, come, everyone else is already here! I have the AC on, so you won't sweat your damn balls off," Georgie glanced at Hermione, "Figuratively speaking, of course."

"Young ears," chastised Snape, "can we at least try for decent language?"

"Where’s the fucking fun in that?!" Grinning, Georgie led the four (including a scandalized Snape!) in the house, ushering them into the wide living room where three others were seated.

"Holy shit Sev, when did you have kids!?" cracked a curly haired blonde witch seated in an armchair, she wore a light blue Harley Davidson off the shoulder shirt, a denim mini skirt, and biker boots. She pointed her wand at Snape, "Could've told me I was aunt, and then I could've started spoiling them rotten before this! You know that’s what I do best!"

“We all play to our strengths,” Georgie chuckled.

"Lucy...these are NOT my children," Snape practically spit the word, "They are my students whose car has broken down. I’m simply doing my civic duty in assisting them so I get karma points and don’t come back as a worm in my next life!"

"Aw, Severus, such a friggin' angel. Don't let the sarcasm sway you kids, he's a pussy cat."

Ron could barely imagine Snape as a ‘pussy cat' but the woman was amusing nonetheless. "I'm Ron." He held his hand out to her. Instead of taking it, she stood and gave him a hug.

"'Name's Lucy! And look at you, brightest damn hair I've seen!" The tips of Ron's ears turned pink.

A wizard seated to the left laughed, "Lucy has a thing for redheads."

"Bloody hell!" Snape spewed, "He's 17 Luce, can we not?"

With a roll of her eyes she answered, "I already got a man. I just figured my daughter might want a shot at this good looking piece of meat." She grinned and her eyes caught Harry, "Oh, Merlin! And look at this one! Hey, Bay, your kid would like him!"

The wizard laughed, "She has been on the prowl." Harry blushed deeply.

Jena, a dark haired witch with her lips, nose, eyebrows, and just about every facial appendage pierced, was bouncing on her toes, obviously excited. She grinned at Hermione and winked. The young witch felt herself smile shyly, again wondering of this new side to her professor. These were not the friends she had thought he would be acquainted with. Jena’s tight tank top and even tighter pants just confirmed that.

"All right, so we know Big Red here is Ron," Lucy stated, "But what about this pretty lady?"

"My name is Hermione Granger." The teen spoke softly; she was overwhelmed by the people standing before her and Jena was still giggling and snickering like mad whenever her gaze landed on Hermione.

"LOVE your name! I need another kid, a girl, so I can name her that. Hey Sevvy, you be the Godfather!"

Snape groaned, "Again?"

Lucy laughed and said, "Every time I have another fictional kid I make Sev the Godfather."

Hermione laughed, “Ah, he must adore that.”

"Oh, he loves it!" She turned to Ron, "We got her last name, what's yours, Kid?"

"Weasley." he answered.

"LOVE it!"

Jena chuckled, "Luce, you love everything."

"What can I say," the blonde stated, "I'm a lovable type of gal."

Harry was practically hidden behind Ron, which wasn't that hard, considering how small he was. The woman‘s exuberance was intimidating. "And we seem to have a hidden child behind Big Red!" Lucy exclaimed. Snape looked at Harry, confused, as the teen seemed to want to melt down into the cracks in the floor rather than have any attention on him at all. Harry, for his part, had just learned that introductions were always awkward when it came to the Boy-Who-Lived. He gave a quiet wave, wondering how much caffeine these people had indulged in but stayed behind Ron.

Lucy would have none of that though, reaching around Ron, she grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him from his hiding spot. "Hey, Cutie, what's your name? Don’t let Jena scare you; she’s more afraid of magnets than you should be of her!”

Jena shot her a look but ignored the remark. "Wow, Sev, you got some good looking students. Wish I was 17 again." She mused, eyeing Harry. "Gorgeous green eyes, right Luce?"

"Absolutely! I love them!" She reached forward to swipe Harry's hair from his eyes but caught sight of his scar. "Merlin..."

A bit panicked by the change in attitude (not that he didn't expect it), Harry lurched from her grasp and backed away right into Snape. Blushing, he stilled his panic and shifted to the side, looking up at the witches and ready to take on any comment. Noticing his discomfort, Lucy smiled and used her usual ally in awkward situations: she made a joke at another person's expense. "No wonder Sevvy came in here looking like something crawled up his ass and died! It's Harry Potter!"

"No shit?" Baylor asked. He jumped up and all his 6'5 build rambled to get a sight of Harry's scar. "Oh, this is perfect!"

Jena pounced, pulling him from the safety of his best friend's shadow, "Fantastic! We have a new way to annoy Sev!" Harry's eyes went wide, surely, if she had her way Gryffindor would cease to have any points left!

"All right, ENOUGH!" Snape barked, knowing the over exuberance of his friends daunted even the most stable of people, "I'm hungry, I'm sure the brats are hungry, I KNOW Baylor is hungry, and so can we eat?" Harry looked up at his professor appreciatively.

Lucy smiled at Harry and Jena, "We have plotting to do now, Sev. Go cook with the men."

"No. Harry is not here to entertain you."

Harry gasped, "You just called me Harry!" Both Ron and Hermione were just as shocked; they looked up at their professor, mouths practically on the floor.

"Ain't that your name, Kid?" Georgie asked, looking back and forth between Snape and Harry.

"Well, yeah..."

"So what's he call you then?"

"I refer to him by his last name as I do all my students. Except this is summer; I'm no one's professor right now." Snape mouthed off. "Food. NOW."

The elder witches and wizards took this as meaning the issue was dropped. Severus never became snippy with them so when he did they knew to oblige. "All right, all right, someone needs a nap!" Baylor quipped as he walked into the kitchen and out of the back door.

"You do not mind that they stay, Georgie?" Snape asked, glaring after Baylor - though his eyes held his amusement.

"Not at all! Could use a little excitement around here!" Georgie answered Snape. "We're having a bit of a barbeque." He said to the students. "I'll make sure Sevvy doesn't poison your food."

"How accommodating," Snape growled, rolling his eyes in the same manner he yelled at his students for. This also, did not go unnoticed by Hermione.

Lucy winked at the three students as she sauntered from the room, followed by a giggling and conspiring Jena.

"All right, why don’t you three shower and clean up and meet us outside, Bathrooms down the hall.” Georgie directed them. He turned to Snape, “Come on, you old bat!" He joked, half hugging Snape as he laughed and lead him out. That left the three teens standing in the center of the room, Ron's ears still slightly pink.

"Did he just call Snape a bat?"

"Did Snape actually laugh?"

"Am I the only one who noticed they call him Sevvy?"

Ron gaped at Harry, "Bloody hell, they do!"

"This is like The Twilight Zone via Hogwarts." Hermione quipped and rolled her eyes at the confused looks on the two boys, "Old Muggle show on the telly. Even you didn't know that, Harry?"

"I never really got the chance to watch much television, ‘Mione."

She just shrugged, "I’m rather curious. Let's hurry up and get clean so we can go outside and see what else we can find out about the old bat."

Harry nodded in affirmation and then shot his hand in the air, “Dibs on the shower first!” The wrestling match that took place after that was never mentioned by Ron or Harry again. Neither won, instead, Hermione wrestled them to the ground and then took off down the hall to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her with a victorious shout.

Dinner was steaks, chicken and burgers grilled on the barbeque with corn (also grilled) and salad. The adults drank beer and the kids, soda. They were seated at a picnic table perched on a cement patio, the grill still sizzled with warming food, and the conversation was light. Halfway through the meal, Harry noticed that the pile of beer bottles in front of Snape was growing. He eyed Hermione and grinned. Perfect.

"Professor Snape?" She spoke up, her Gryffindor bravery only rivaled by her young nosiness and edged on by a newfound confidence the summer so far had given her.

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Yes?"

The giggling from the other adults drew his attention from her as they openly mocked him. "Professor Snape!" "Yo Proff!" and "Snapers!" were just some of the taunts being thrown at him. Ron and Harry held in snickers.

Georgie leaned forward, "Call the old bat Sev or Sevvy. I can't bear to hear him called Professor; I just start laughing too hard. It’s friggin’ ridiculous!"

Hermione sputtered, "I...I can't! He's my professor!" The thought of this made her pale; you just never disrespected the institution of learning by referring to a professor by their first name!

"It's either that or Sir." Harry spoke up, shrugging, his mouth still twitching with a hidden grin.

"Oh, hell no!" Lucy yelled, "That is no ‘Sir'! That's Sevvy!" She pointed at Snape and nodded, "Sevvy. Not Sir. Sevvy." This was obviously a stone cold fact to her.

"Excuse me, I hate to interrupt this lovely conversation pertaining to my name, but having my students call me Sevvy is none too appealing, thank you very much." Snape spoke, his annoyance showing.

"Then call him Severus." Baylor said, "At least it's not Sevvy?" He added when Snape glared at him.

Hermione decided quietly to just not address him by ANY name at all for the moment, "My question...if you will?" Her hands in her lap, she tried to convey sheer politeness, respect, and innocence: an obvious ploy to deter Snape from thinking she was going to pry for information and a job well done if Harry had anything to say about it.

"Yes? I apologize for the interruption."

She shrugged, "I was just wondering why it is that at school you stalk around the hallways with your hair down in your robes and never smile, and are a greasy git?" It was spoken in her sweetest voice and she batted her eyes in a way that clearly said, ‘What? Cause trouble? Little old me?’ Fred and George would be proud. And probably very scared.

Ron spurted his drink half way across the table, to the great amusement of Lucy and Baylor who barked out loud laughs. Snape's mouth dropped.

Georgie and Jena were speaking quietly, cheshire grins on their faces. They looked up at Snape. "Gonna answer the young lady?" Jena grinned, her eyebrows raised in mock query.

It was Snape's turn to sputter. He was never caught off guard quite like this before. And the self satisfied smirk on Hermione's face didn't help matters. Oh, what a wounded ego he currently had! Bested by a snotty lion!

It was then that Snape noticed the five beer bottles in front of him and Harry and Ron's smirks as they looked from them to their professor. Oh.

"How positively Slytherin of you, Ms. Granger." He finally managed. Just to be spiteful, Snape reached over and grabbed another beer from the cooler, he twisted off the top and took a long gulp. The self-satisfied smirk didn't leave her face though as she waited patiently for an answer. "You're not getting a response. Give it up." he snapped when Hermione refused to remove her attention.

"Oh, yes she is!" Georgie came to her rescue, "If you really do act like a mean old bat at Hogwarts, she deserves an answer. And gimme another beer!"

Snape begrudgingly handed over another bottle, "That is decidedly not the best solution to this Georgie!"

"Sure it is! You open your mouth, you speak, they listen, we all learn. It’s a fucking win-win, like whiskey!"

That made absolutely no sense to Snape, but he let it slide. "All right, all right! You’re so damn annoying sometimes."

"Then answer the young lady or I’ll give Jena full permission to annoy you uninterrupted."

Snape grunted, "She's top witch in grades and her best friend is Harry Bloody Potter. She can figure it out. She's smart."

"Does this have anything to do with the Order--" But Hermione's hand snapped over Ron's mouth with a loud "Shhh!!"

Snape, again, rolled his eyes. "They know. They are actually part of our confidants in the U.S., the Dark Lord has affected here as well, or did you think he only had eyes for Europe?"

"Why have we never heard of them?" Ron asked, speaking loudly over Lucy and Baylor, who had begun singing.

“I only have eyes….for you! SHA-BOP BOP!”

Snape only shrugged and hushed his friends with a wave of his hand, "Upon the Headmaster's orders you are only to be told what is deemed important enough to be discussed with you."

"Oh, great bloody strategy!" Harry smarted, his temper rising quickly when his brain conjured up a rather unwanted vision of Sirius’ death. "That how Sirius was killed! Because no one saw it fit to tell me anything!"

"Potter--"

"No! I don't want to hear it!" The anger on Harry's face was evident, the boy looked as though he was about to pop. “I’m supposed to be the bloody Chosen One but no one tells me anything!” But as quickly as he was angered, he deflated. “Proffessor, I--”

The other adults sat quietly, shocked at the outburst of the formally perceived ‘quiet one.' Snape sighed in annoyance and cut off what he was sure was going to be a annoying apology. "I admit things weren't done quite so...well...pertaining to your Godfather, but that is no reason to snap at me or at anyone else. Headmaster's orders, Potter, or has your simpleton mind been unable to grasp such an obvious point? ASIDE from the fact that your mutt of a Godfather should have KNOWN to keep his troublesome arse at headquarters! And if you had ever TRIED—ATTEMPTED—to learn Occulemcy, I dare say you have to be the most thickheaded, idiotic--"

"That's enough, Severus!" Georgie stood abruptly. "I'm shocked that you would...I have NEVER...I...This is a side of you I do not like Severus Snape. At ALL."

Instantly, Snape looked thoroughly admonished and he glanced from one friend to another. It was yet another shock to the system for the students, though Harry barely registered it; he was too busy holding back tears at the thought of his Godfather. It became abundantly clear just how much of a trigger Sirius was to him. "Harry..." Snape began, in a kinder tone, suddenly remembering just how young the boy actually was.

"Piss off!" Harry snapped, jumping up the table and knocking his chair back. “You know nothing about me!” He turned and stormed off, disappearing into the wide range of Georgie's property.

"Oh, nice, Sev, real nice!" Jena snapped. “What the hell?” She threw her hands up.

Lucy pushed herself out of her chair, "Jena, let's go find him and allow Georgie to chew the asshole out."

"No, I'll speak with him." Snape said, standing himself.

"Absolutely not! No way! Because you did such a FINE job of it before?!" Jena hissed; it wasn't a wonder to her why Snape never had any kids, “I mean, really!”

"Then let me," Snape said through gritted teeth, "correct it."

Ron and Hermione were both quiet through this exchange, both knowing Harry well enough to understand that if he wanted to talk, he would not have left the table. He didn’t do things normally in the most unsuspecting of occurrences and this was way out of bounds for him. They eyed the adults warily.

"I will." Georgie glared. "And I've said it before Sevvy, that headmaster of yours may be brilliant in terms of magic and studies, but he's a sure fire idiot when it comes to social concepts." Without waiting for an answer, Georgie stalked away brusquely, headed in the direction Harry had gone.

Snape was left sitting at the table, looking like a naughty toddler.