Harry sat across the desk in Snape's office, once again waiting anxiously to see what was going on, though this time he supposedly wasn't in trouble. He'll find a reason. He reflected morosely.

“All right, show me what you can do.”

Harry looked up at Snape. “Anything?”

“Anything. I want you to work with your magic, to stretch your boundaries. Wizards usually use wands to focus and amplify their magic. Your ability to do without indicates that you are a very strong wizard – all that is left after that is concentration and experience and you should be able to do anything wandless that you can do with your wand. Possibly more, because you don't need to know a spell to tell your magic what to do. So – play around with it, see what you can do.”

Harry thought for a bit and then pulled a hand-full of acorns out of the pocket where he'd stuck them earlier. The shape and feel of them had appealed to him at the time, now he realized they'd work to transfigure into other things. Concentrating, he first gripped one of the bigger ones and concentrated on enlarging it. It got bigger for a bit, but then split down one side as Harry realized that rather than enlarging the whole thing, he'd been thinking about blowing it up like a balloon. Damn.

Taking another acorn, Harry transfigured it into a hollow rubber ball before blowing it up the same way. When it was about the size of a large apple, he held it in his hands and turned the surface yellow before getting a- well- brilliant - idea. He held the ball in his hands and focused on making it glow. After about five minutes of concentration, he realized that the ball was quite warm and the rubber was getting sticky. Damn, damn, damn. Putting the ball aside quickly, Harry remembered the only spell he knew dealing with light, and cast the brightest lumos he could consciously manage, brightening up the room considerably. Grasping the tip of his wand, he concentrated on the act of grabbing the tip of his wand and pulling the light off of it, succeeding in transferring the narrow point of light onto his right index finger after the third try. Looking back at the now-cool ball, Harry held it in his left hand and concentrated. His light went out at the split concentration, but the ball turned clear. Sighing, Harry tried skipping a step, and casting lumos wandless. It worked, to a point, but still lit up his wand instead of his finger or the ball. Why am I not surprised? Thought Harry. Only transfigurations ever work the way they're supposed to.

Mastering his frustration, Harry once again 'pulled' the light off the tip of his wand and onto his finger. Now to just get it in the damned ball. He thought. Angry, he shoved the light into the ball. For a split second he felt a force escape his hand into the ball – too much force – and realized he had no idea how to take it back. Harry watched in horror as the ball escaped his hand and started bouncing madly all over Snape's office. Within seconds it took out a lamp and several empty potions bottles, knocked an inkwell over on the man's desk, and and started smearing ink over every surface it hit. But it's glowing, at least... Harry winced as a particularly large blotch of ink was deposited on a map of the public floo system that Snape kept on his office wall. Unable to think of what else to do, Harry threw up a hand and shouted, “come back here!” Next thing he knew, Snape was ducking as the ball whizzed past his head at an incredible speed, and hit Harry's hand hard.

“OW! Damnit! Stupid thing!” He almost threw the ball away from him in vexation before looking at it for a moment, smiling, and throwing it straight down onto the hardwood floor. As predicted, it bounced right back up into his hand, and Harry grinned up at Snape.

“I made a bouncy light-ball!”

“So you did.” Severus said weakly, looking around at the destruction in his office with a mix of horror and awe, before relaxing. It's not permanent. “Well done. Do you think you could do it again?”

Harry ignored the warmth brought on by the man's praise. “Probably. I think I- I felt what I did, with putting the light in, so hopefully I won't have to be so- err- forceful- next time.”

“One would hope.”

Harry looked around at the office and back at Snape. “Umm...maybe we should do this in the Room of Requirement, too?”

“Perhaps.” Severus conceded, repairing the lamp and cleaning up the ink with a wave of his wand. The desk would always be a bit stained, he noticed, but otherwise it was an easy fix. God forbid my desk get an ink stain on top of the potions stains. When he looked up, he noticed that Harry was watching him, clearly anxious. “Nothing a house-elf won't be able to remedy.”

“Hmm.” Was Harry's only comment, but Severus noticed his shoulders relax a little and decided to call it a win.

“All right, we have approximately twenty minutes left. I imagine you would appreciate a pause?”

Harry thought about that. Really? “I get a break?”

Severus looked at the boy strangely. The boy works magic like it's taffy for almost an hour and doesn't think he needs a break? “You've been working for forty-five minutes. Am I incorrect in assuming you need one?”

Forty-five MINUTES?? Suddenly Harry realized that he was really, really tired, and getting a headache. “Oh...yeah, I guess...I mean no, I'd like a break. I'm kinda tired.”

“Food?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want something?”

“Oh. Maybe...could I have some juice?” Worst he'll do is say no. Snape just lifted an eyebrow.

“Pumpkin? Cranberry? Orange?”

Harry relaxed. “Orange.”

“Would you like something to eat?”

“No, I'm okay.”

Severus smirked a bit. We'll see. “Kallie.”

The house-elf popped into view between the two. “Master Snape, Master Harry. You is needing something, sirs?”

“Two glasses of orange juice, a tray of biscuits, and a bowl of grapes, please.”

Snape eats biscuits? Harry wondered. He'd never pictured the man as someone with a sweet-tooth.

When Kallie came with the juice, a large tray of various biscuit varieties, and a beautifully-arranged platter of sliced fruits, Snape handed Harry a plate and motioned him towards the food.

“You should eat something. You'll need the energy after the work you just did.”

Oh. It's for me. Harry realized. “Err...”

“Master Harry, sir, you is barely eating lunch! You must eat something, sir! Would Master prefer pumpkin pastries, sir? Or cucumber sandwiches?”

“Kallie, I'm fine!” Harry protested, smiling at the elf's attitude. “I'm not hungry! I'll eat some grapes, you don't have to-”

Kallie set her little hands on her hips and leveled Harry with a firm glare. “It does not matter if Master is hungry or not, Master is still skinny. Master is eating grapes and biscuits, and drinking his juice.”

Harry sighed, defeated, then smiled teasingly at the house-elf. “Yes ma'am.” As usual, the moniker made Kallie smile.

When she left, Harry cautiously grabbed a couple of biscuits and a bunch of grapes, surreptitiously watching Snape as he did so. The man remained neutral, though, and so Harry turned his attention to his food. A moment later, Kallie popped back in, this time with a glass of milk.

“Aww Kalliiie,” Harry complained. “I hate milk!”

Severus watched as the unusually bossy house-elf got Harry to eat and drink with barely a struggle. The two compromised on the milk, and Harry finally drank half of it with a grimace and some more halfhearted complaints. She's right...he is still a bit skinny. He realized. He looks a good deal better, though...and I know he's not been eating well at meals in the great hall. House-elves liked to feed people. I should have been doing that. Harry wouldn't have let him, though.

When Kallie finally left, Severus turned towards Harry. “So, how did you end up with a house-elf?”

Unexpectedly, Harry lifted his chin a bit and answered defensively. “None of your business.”

He's nervous for some reason. “Well, no, I suppose it is not, but then it is hardly a difficult question, either. I am not about to take her away from you.”

“You're not?”

Harry's response startled the professor. What's going on? “No, why would I?”

“Why wouldn't you?”

Severus suppressed a wince. “Harry, even if I wanted to I couldn't. She is yours. There is only one way to break that bond.” Abruptly Severus remembered the simple but well-made clothing the house-elf typically wore, “but then, you seem to have sidestepped that, as well. How did you manage to give her clothing without freeing her?”

At this, Harry smiled, a hint of pride showing through his lingering anxiety. “Easy. I gave her a sewing kit.”

“Clever.” Severus opined. It really was, actually. He'd seen house-elves dressed in togas and simple wrap-skirts made out of dish-towels and the like, but had never made the connection between that and a way to give the house-elves real clothing. Perhaps I should have. He realized. As a child he had made fast friends with 'Small-Nose-Elf' in the Hogwarts kitchens, but he had never freed her, and when she had died when he was in fifth year, he had not attempted to make friends with any others. As he grew up, he had stopped noticing them. Harry had noticed enough to put thought into a way to give his own house-elf proper clothing. The simple, thoughtful, gift conveyed a world of messages of which Harry himself was seemingly completely unaware. It was charming, and telling.

Harry's relationship with his house-elf was interesting. Far from seeing Kallie as beneath him, he almost seemed to regard Kallie as a superior. It hurt Severus to see that Harry automatically assumed that everyone he met ranked him, but in this case Severus figured it was a healthy assumption. The students ought to obey them, Severus realized. Until watching Harry with Kallie, he hadn't thought of it, but, after all, the house-elves were significantly older and more capable then the Hogwarts students, or even then Argus Filch.

“So, how did you end up binding her?”

He says he won't take her...but he doesn't know she's stolen, yet. Harry shook his head. “Why do you want to know?”

“Mostly curiosity. I had a friend who was a house-elf when I was a student here. It never occurred to me to bind her, though, and I knew more about the wizarding world than you do. I am curious to know how it happened that you would end up with a house-elf within two months of getting to Hogwarts.”

HE was friends with a house-elf? “I – I didn't mean to.” Harry finally admitted. “She was a friend. I just wanted to give her a present.”

Oh. Thought Severus. Of course. That's why he's nervous, too. He probably thinks he stole her. It was a little known fact that the house-elves at Hogwarts were bound to the entire school – students, faculty, and staff alike. Originally, it had been set up that way such that they would obey whoever gave them an order, and so be useful to everyone, but it left a huge loop-hole: because they belonged to everybody, the elves could be freed by anybody. Dumbledore was aware of this, of course, but had decided that it was a good thing, and left it as a way for the elves to find new homes if they so desired. After all, if they got freed by accident and didn't like it they could always go back and be re-bound.

“You gave her clothing?”

“Yeah.” Harry said softly. “A blouse that Hermione shrank too much by accident. But then she was really really happy and asked me to name her and I didn't figure out until afterwords that I...stole her.”

“You didn't.”

“Huh?”

“You didn't steal her. The headmaster set it up such that students could free the house-elves if the elves so desired. She's rightfully yours.”

Harry frowned at that, but couldn't really think of a way to say that she didn't belong to him. He did feel how she was bound to him, after all, had seen how she had to obey him. Still, though - “she's not mine, she's just-” and there his ability to explain escaped him.

To his surprise, the Potions Master nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. She is bound to you, but she is her own person. I simply meant 'yours' in the magical sense; 'yours' as in bound to you, but it goes both ways. Perhaps you belong to her, too.”

Harry smiled a little, thinking of how the crazy little elf had adopted him. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“When did you meet her?”

Harry's smile turned mischievous. “World War One.”

“Excuse me?”

“Second week, while I was gathering allies and places of refuge in preparation for an attack from Germany.”

Severus shook his head. Infuriating child. “I still don't follow.” Severus knew what World War I was, of course, having been raised in a half-muggle household, but the metaphor Harry employed was lost on him nevertheless. What does World War I have to do with anything?

Harry sighed and spoke bluntly. “In the second week of the term, when I was avoiding yo- your detention, I took to hanging out in the kitchen instead of going to the Great Hall. The first time I went, Kallie met me at the door and gave me food.”

“How did you find the kitchens?”

“Fr-umm...some friends knew where it was.” He didn't know if Snape would be angry at the twins for helping him avoid detention, and he certainly couldn't tell the man about the Marauder's Map. Better safe than sorry.

Fred and George Weasley, probably. If anyone would know where the kitchen was it would be those two. “I see. That would be the 'gathering allies' part, I presume. Am I Germany?”

Harry lifted his chin proudly for a moment, smirking. “Yeah.” Then he relaxed a little as he realized, “...well, you were, but then I lost...so I guess you ended up being the Central Powers.”

“Then the kitchen and the Gryffindor common room would be the 'places of refuge?'”

Harry smiled, a little embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“All right. How did you get past me, anyway?”

Harry remembered the moment and smiled broadly before concentrating on Snape's voice. “Cutting it a little close, aren't you, Miss Woodman?” Harry said, mimicking Snape's usual cadence to go with the voice that he'd adopted.

Severus gaped at him. “I thought she'd already come in!” And that is so creepy...

Seeing Snape so surprised gave Harry a feeling of great satisfaction. Emboldened, he admitted, “I didn't know how to do the voice, yet, though, so I couldn't talk.”

“You still fooled me, though. Impressive.” Severus said thoughtfully. He couldn't get mad about it, not a month after the fact, and so decided to be amused. Harry continued to surprise him. Slythindor, indeed.

Harry grinned. Maybe he belonged in Slytherin after all. Nothing else he did seemed particularly bright, but he had some skill at 'underhanded doings', as the twins would put it. And he's not mad. He realized. The man seemed strangely pleased that Harry had managed to get by him. Bizarre. Well, I guess he is a Slytherin.

Finally it was almost time for Harry to go, and Severus finished the last of his orange juice before asking curiously, “Was the 'bouncy light-ball' your final goal for that project of yours, or was it a step towards something else?” Given that Harry had seemed surprised when the ball turned out to be a good toy in its own right, Severus figured that it had not been Harry's goal, but perhaps he had just been messing around.

“No, I was making something else.”

“Good. For homework, then, I want you to finish it and bring it to show me next week.”

Harry wrinkled his nose a bit- homework?- but didn't protest. If he was honest, he really wanted to finish it, anyway. I'll just make a new light-ball first. He decided. I don't want to ruin this one. He couldn't wait to show it to Theo. Come to think of it, I could probably turn his hair back colorful if he wanted it...I'd have to make him promise not to kill me if it all fell out, though...

“Okay. I can go, then?”

Severus sighed. And this is him being relatively polite. Still, though, the boy had been surprisingly cooperative for the lesson.“Yes. You may go.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Really?”

“Sure. I mean, if I screw up-”

“I don't care! Do it! Pleeease?!”

“You have no survival instinct, do you?”

“Nope. My Da says I would jump off a bridge just 'cause it was fun, let alone if somebody else did first. Come on! It was your idea!”

“Your father gonna come after me if I set it on fire by accident?”

“No, he'll just figure it was my idea.”

“You'll take all responsibility for this.”

“Yup. Come on! Do it!”

“Okay, okay. Here goes.”

Harry pinched a lock of Theo's hair in two fingers and concentrated. It turned the desired blue easily enough, but only the strands pinched in Harry's hands. Harry sighed in frustration, but Theo, watching in a mirror, looked up in delight.

“Hey cool!! Could you do the next bit red?”

And so it was that by the end of a half-hour, Theo's hair was as colorful as a clown's, different locks turned red, blue, green, yellow, orange, or purple depending on Theo's fancy. Theo was over the moon, but Harry bit his lip in anxiety, certain that he would catch trouble for this somehow. It's the weekend. It doesn't break any rules until Monday. He reminded himself. He had to smile at Theo's antics, though, as his excited dorm-mate ran around the Gryffindor common room showing off his new hair. It'll be worth it. He decided as he had so many times before. Especially seeing as we have Potions on Monday... Hopefully Madame Sprout wouldn't make Theo turn it back before he wore it into Snape's class. It had been too long since he'd last pulled Snape's tail. He knew he was playing with fire, but it was worth it. Snape would know perfectly well that it was Harry's doing, and yet have no basis on which to punish him. Just too bad for him that he seems to need a reason. Harry thought, smiling. Even if it's a dumb reason. He won't punish me just for pissing him off.

Startled, Harry considered the thought, and realized it was true. The man always explained what Harry had done to anger him, and he always had a reason for what he did, even if Harry didn't agree with it. It was...nice...knowing when he did and did not have to worry about being in trouble. At home, it was best to just assume he was in trouble and hide if his uncle was there. His aunt would help, sometimes, if he'd been nice to her during the day and not done any magic; sending him outside to work in the garden or paint the shed even though they both knew he'd already finished the chore. He didn't particularly like Snape, but he knew by now that he didn't have to hide from the man. He could even bait him, and he was finding it more and more fun to do so, now that he was learning just how far he could push Snape without getting anything beyond a detention or two. I should do something for Halloween. He realized. I could do the best costume EVER.

Done with Theo, Harry turned his attention back to his project, pulling out the old light-ball and a new acorn. Rubber first. He remembered, and proceeded as before, finishing in twenty minutes what had previously taken forty-five. He smiled. Now to move forward. Hmm. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he considered, and finally decided to make his 'earth ball' before working on the two together. Decided, he created a new rubber ball, about the size of a marble, and colored it with blue and green patches to approximate the planet 'earth' that would eventually rotate around his 'sun.' Putting the new ball aside, he moved back to concentrating on the light-ball, before realizing that he'd finished the 'easy' part of the project- the transfigurations – and the rest would be as hard as putting the light in the ball had been, or worse. He groaned. I'm never gonna get this done.

Determined nevertheless, Harry first concentrated on making the light-ball float. It shot across the common room, almost hitting Prefect Stone. Harry ducked a little, apologetically, and the older boy just threw the thing back with a tolerant air. Figuring it best not to have his only-semi-controlled magic flying around the common room, Harry moved his project upstairs into the dorm. Half an hour later, he found he could shoot the ball all over the place, and even up, but couldn't control it without using his hands to 'push' it around. Since he wanted the thing to float independently, this was not an option. Damn. Damn damn damn. Stupid magic.

Finally, he put a forefinger under the ball and 'pushed' upward, finally getting the ball to balance an inch above his outstretched finger. From there, he moved his hand as if he were spinning a basketball, quickly getting the ball to spin in midair. Unfortunately, it was still 'stuck' to his finger, instead of floating free the way he wanted it to. He passed a finger underneath the ball to try and 'cut' the connection to his finger, but as soon as he did the ball fell into his hand. Whatever. I give up. Tired and frustrated, Harry shoved the whole project in his trunk and went down to lunch.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Blaise knows something the rest of us don't, doesn't he?”

“No.” Harry realized a second too late that his answer sounded way too aggressive to be believed.

“He does, doesn't he?” Hermione asked again quietly. “You just don't like talking about it.”

Harry ignored her in favor of pretending to read his Charms book. He never read in the Great Hall, though, so the farce was obvious. Or at least it would have been, had Hermione been paying any attention to Harry's body language. Leave me alone. You don't think I've lied to you enough?

“You punched Blaise after he talked to you, and then Ron, when I asked you about why you hated adults so much,” she continued thoughtfully.

Fucking know-it-all. What does it take for you to get the message? “Why don't you ask Blaise?”

“He'd never tell me anything you didn't want him to.”

“Oh really?” He talked to Snape. “And why would I tell you anything I didn't want Blaise to tell you?”

“Well why'd you tell Blaise, if you didn't want to talk about it?”

That rankled. “I didn't.” He figured it out all on his own.

“Oh.” That seemed to quiet her for a moment, and Harry focused his attention back on his book.

“You still haven't answered why you hate adults so much.”

“No I haven't.” Congrats, you have figured out what I don't want to talk about. One would think that would lead into leaving it alone.

“Why don't you?”

Harry was starting to wish he'd not invited the Gryffs to the Slytherin table that day. Blaise and Theo hadn't yet arrived, and Ron had chosen to sit with his brothers, so Harry was stuck with Hermione, who was taking the opportunity to harass him.

“Because I don't want to.” Duh.

“Why not, though? I can't understand why you won't tell us. If there's nothing wrong, then you have nothing to hide, so-”

“So anything I don't want you to know is public property, Hermione?”

“No, but if you were in danger, or something, it would be my responsibility to find out.”

“You think that, do you?” You and Blaise and the rest of the world, apparently. Am I really the only one that thinks privacy is worth something?

“Please, I just want to know what adults have done to you! It looks bad, Harry, it really does.”

“What does? What are you seeing that looks so 'bad', Hermione? Do I look like there's something wrong with me, or something?” Harry watched as Blaise entered the hall. If I just hold her off for a second or two-

“No, but honestly, Harry, don't you hear yourself? You hate adults, you expect Snape to turn on you when he's clearly defending you at every turn, you hid from him in the Gryffindor common room for a week when you had detention-”

“And he's asked you repeatedly to let it go,” Blaise finished, “and so now, being a good friend, you will.”

“How can you say that, Blaise! Do you know what's going on? He could be in danger, real danger, and you think I should just let it go?”

“Yes. Honestly, Granger, you think if Harry's got a problem you're going to do a better job of fixing it than Snape? Now who doesn't trust adults?”

“I do trust Snape, I'm just-”

“Curious. You're not trying to help Harry, you're just prying. Let it go.”

Hermione stared at Blaise, tight-lipped, while Blaise stared coolly back, until Hermione let out a clipped, “fine,” and bustled off.

Harry watched her go for a moment before whispering, “thank you.” When he met Blaise's eyes, though, the other boy responded only, “I will help keep your secrets, Harry, but don't think I have forgotten. If Snape weren't already involved...”

“But he is. Back off.”

Blaise seemed unperturbed. “I'm not gonna leave just because you want me to. This is more important than that. I won't let you be in danger.”

Touched, but unwilling to show it, Harry just nodded and spoke slightly more politely. “I got it. Back off.”

Blaise smiled slightly and went back to his meal, allowing Harry the silence he craved.

“Mr. Nott, that colour is not appropriate for the classroom. Please return your hair to dress-code standards.”

“Sorry, sir, but I can't do that.” Theo smiled cheerfully, seemingly completely unaware of Snape's dour mood.

“You can, and you will. Now, Mr. Nott.”

Finally, Theo ducked his head respectfully. “No, I mean – I really can't, sir. I don't know how.” Despite his words and body language, he didn't sound remotely regretful, and the students who knew Theo well had to suppress their snickers.

“Mr. Nott, we are two months into the school year. Surely by now you know how to reverse your own spells?”

“Well, that's the thing, sir,” Theo said with a certain pride. “I didn't do it. Dunno how. Wish I did, but-”

“I understand, Mr. Nott,” said Snape, meeting Harry's eyes questioningly. Harry gave him a carefully innocent look and the man's eyes narrowed. “Who did do it, then?”

Theo looked at Harry questioningly, and Harry nodded slightly, smirking. Theo jerked his head at Harry. “Harry did, sir.”

“Mr. Potter. Why am I not surprised? Reverse it, please.”

Harry nodded at Snape before leaning over to whisper to Theo. “What color do you want it to be? Just choose something mostly natural.”

Theo grinned hugely and obviously. “How about Malfoy-blond? I'd love to watch him argue that it's against the dress-code!” Harry grinned back. “Can do.”

Gripping as much of Theo's hair as he could, Harry tried picturing his magic flowing over all of Theo's hair as he pictured his nemesis' almost-white hair. With an ease that surprised him, Harry felt Theo's hair respond to his demand, turning a perfect, glowing, white-blond.

Severus watched the two boys plot, sighing to himself. Of course he couldn't just do it normally. Why in Merlin's name would I have expected that?

When he saw Theodore Nott's hair turned a borderline-unnatural shade of blond, he gave Harry a fierce glower. “Mr. Potter that is-” Catching himself just in time, he gave Draco's hair a brief glance before changing what he was going to say. “...not Nott's normal hair colour.” He almost cursed as he watched Theo and Harry exchange grins. All right, Potter, you win this round...He shook his head. Slythindors.

“You just said it had to conform to the dress-code, sir. There's no rule against overly-blond hair,” contributed Theo. “Otherwise-”

“I am aware, Mr. Nott, thank you.” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to stave off a headache. No need to rub it in. Merlin, I've been outsmarted by a couple of eleven-year-olds. The whole class was snickering by now, and Draco was livid. “Very well. Turn your books to page 258, and start brewing. Silently.”

Hehee. Thought Harry. I win. At that moment, Ron handed a scrap of parchment back. Harry looked it over for a moment before starting to grin. It held a chart similar to the one Fred and George had used to keep score in the contest against Marcus Flint, and said:

Who can be a bigger Pain-in-the-Ass? Snape vs. Harry:

Harry:

colorful hair - 5 pts

animals in office - 15 pts

animals in classroom - 10 pts

impersonating Malfoy in class - 10 pts

changing Theo's hair to Malfoy's - 5 pts

Total: - 45 pts

Snape:

Detention x 16 - 3x 16 = 48 pts

Grounding - 10 pts

Total: - 58 pts

At the bottom, Ron had written a note: You're falling behind, mate. Get it together!

Harry smiled and wrote: You forgot my giving him the slip that first week, and painting his office door hippy colors...you might want to give him points for generally gitness, too, though.

He passed the note back, and saw Ron writing furiously. A moment later, the note came back.

Harry:

colorful hair - 5 pts

animals in office - 15 pts

animals in classroom - 10 pts

impersonating Malfoy in class - 10 pts

changing Theo's hair to Malfoy's - 5 pts

colorful office door - 5 pts

1 week successful avoidance - 15 pts

Total: - 60 pts

Snape:

Detention x 16 - 3x 16 = 48 pts

Grounding - 10 pts

General gitness - 10 pts

Total: - 68 pts

Sorry mate. You're still behind. Maybe you should hex him or something?

Harry wrote back: Not creative enough. He'd get more points for the number of detentions he'd assign then I'd get for the original prank.

Ron wrote quickly: True. Oy! You can turn into Malfoy, can you turn into Snape?

Harry sighed. That would be great. Nevertheless he wrote back: He's too big.

Ron didn't seem disappointed, though, when he wrote back. Even better! What if you did a mini version??

Harry almost laughed aloud, but shook his head, writing back, Are you trying to get me killed, or something?? Come to class as mini-Snape?! He'd murder me! It would be fun in the meantime, though...I'll think about it. What are you being for Halloween, anyway? Do wizards dress up?

Before he could pass the note again, however, he felt it yanked from his hands. Ron looked up at the same time, and both watched as Snape lifted a hand from his grading to catch the note.

CRAP!! We are so screwed!

Snape didn't comment right away, however. Harry watched anxiously as the man read the note, and wrote on it, before coming to stand in front of Harry. When Snape just stood there, Harry lifted an eyebrow in imitation of Snape's own classic look. You gonna say something, or not? To Harry's surprise, the man didn't say anything, just handed the note back and returned to the front of the room.

Curious, Harry read down the note, noting several places where Snape had altered the note. It now read:

Harry:

colorful hair - 5 pts

animals in office - 15 pts

animals in classroom - 10 pts

impersonating Malfoy in class - 10 pts

changing Theo's hair to Malfoy's - 5 pts

colorful office door - 5 pts

1 week successful avoidance - 15 pts

Total: - 60 pts

Snape:

Detention x 17 - 3x 17 = 51 pts

Grounding - 10 pts

General gitness - 10 pts

Total: - 71 pts

You're falling behind, man. Get it together!

//Murder is...vulgar. Surely as creative a mind as yours would realize that I would come up with something more interesting than that to deal with this sort of prank, Mr. Potter? I would advise you to reconsider your actions. And yes, some wizards do dress up for Halloween. If you were wondering, I am not among them. While you're passing notes, please advise Mr. Weasley that you both have detention with me this evening at 7:00. Do not be late.//

Harry sighed. 7:00 was right after his 'talking' session with the man this afternoon. All told, he'd be stuck with the man for four hours that evening. Git.

When Harry arrived at the Room of Requirement, Snape had not yet arrived. I'm early. Damn. Now what am I gonna do? Getting bored quickly, Harry thought back to his conversation with Ron.

Eleven points behind. Hmm...He'd used his metamorphmagus abilities, and some of his transfiguration. He'd used Fred and George's help to the utmost. He'd even tried potions, which failed miserably. I need new material. He decided. I just don't have enough to work with. That day in Charms they'd been learning sticking charms. I wonder if I can do it wandless? It didn't feel too complicated... Curious, Harry put his hand to the wall, and willed it to stick the way the objects they'd used in class had.

As Harry had half-expected, having learned the charm in class made it relatively easy to reproduce wandlessly, and he soon found himself stuck by one hand to the wall. Well that's useful. He thought sarcastically. Brilliant, Harry. You can reproduce the tongue-stuck-to-cold-pole effect without a wand. Fan-frickin'-tastic. Then he had another thought. Removing his hand from the wall, he stuck it up higher, and stuck the other hand a little further down from it. Quickly kicking off his overly-large sneakers, he then stuck one foot to the wall about eighteen inches up off the floor, and pushed up off the floor as if climbing a climbing wall, but with no hand-holds. Sticking his second foot higher than the other one, he released his hands one by one to stick them higher on the wall. Awesome!! I wonder how high I can get? Snape would arrive in any minute... I wonder if I can get to the ledge by the time he gets here? Leave him to wonder how I got up there!

Climbing as quickly as he could, Harry continued the hand-hand foot-foot until he was up the wall. When he got to the ledge, he looked down and realized that he'd climbed nearly thirty feet in minutes. Awesome. I'm like a gecko, or something!!

Suddenly Harry heard the door open. He's here. Wanting to see, Harry stuck his head out of his alcove to look at Snape. No sooner had he done so, however, then Snape looked up and met his eyes.

Severus heard a slight noise and looked up to meet Harry's eyes. He felt his eyes widening as he realized that the boy had somehow ended up on a ledge thirty feet in the air without any sort of ladder that he could see. Surely by now you'd have learned to expect the unexpected, Severus. It's not that strange.

Carefully giving no indication of the nervousness he felt seeing Harry sitting on a small ledge thirty feet in the air, Severus greeted stiffly. “Potter.”

Harry smiled insolently and responded in kind. “Snape.”

“Professor Snape.”

“Mister Potter.”

“Harry.”

“Severus.”

Severus sighed. I can't win. “Just – come down from there, please, Mister Potter.”

Harry looked down at the ground, thirty feet away. “Err...how?”

Severus almost smiled. Not so smart, after all, Mr. Potter? You shouldn't climb something if you cannot get down again. Idiot child.“What do you mean, how?, you succeeded in getting up there, did you not?”

“Yeah.”

“So do the opposite of what you did to get up, and get down.”

As a slow smile appeared on Harry's face, Severus felt his nervousness increase. What did I say?

Harry again looked down the wall towards the ground, and realized that he wasn't all that scared of the height. 'Do the opposite of what you did to get up,' he says. Can do.

And so Harry reached down to stick his hand as far down the wall as he could, listening with one ear as Snape started to protest. “Potter.” Ignoring this, Harry set the next hand down next to the first, and stuck it there. “Potter, what-” It took some maneuvering to get the first foot stuck over the ledge, and it took a bit for him to get up the courage to shift his weight onto his stuck hands to do so, but eventually Harry managed it. When he was done concentrating on that, he looked down at Snape again to find the man looking absolutely dead white, but no longer protesting. Sticking his other foot to the wall next to the first, Harry concentrated on climbing headfirst back down the wall. Once he got used to it, he found the sensation even more fun then climbing up had been. I can climb walls, and talk to snakes. Now I just have to learn to lick my own eyeballs and I'll be all set to join the world of the reptiles...Maybe I should be a gecko for Halloween.

When Harry got to the ground, he found Snape staring at him, and still white. He watched as the man loosened up slowly and put away his wand before sitting heavily in one of the chairs.

“Err...sir?”

“Warn me next time.” Was all the man said. He didn't seem angry, just- suddenly exhausted.

“You told me to do the opposite of what I did to get up...”

“I didn't mean it literally.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

“It worked, though, didn't it?”

“It did.”

“So what's wrong with it?”

Finally Snape looked up at him. “Do you have truly no survival instinct, child?”

Child? “What's that got to do with anything? I wasn't gonna fall. I stuck my hands and feet to the wall.”

“And it didn't scare you to crawl headfirst down the wall?”

“A little, I guess, but I had to get down, didn't I?”

Severus just shook his head. I give up. “I suppose.”

“So...can I go back up then?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Because my heart can't take it. “Because I said so. Sit down, please.”

Harry frowned at him but complied, sitting down on one of the couches and tucking his legs up in front of him. “Fine.” Abruptly Harry remembered that he'd brought two of the three Shakespeare books to return and dug them out of his backpack.

“Here.”

He put them on the low table that stood between his couch and Snape's without comment.

“Did you like them?”

“They were okay.”

“Just okay? You seemed to really like the Shrew, before.”

“I did, 'till Petruchio ruined her,” Harry retorted.

“What do you mean?”

“He made her all polite n'stuff. She was so cool before!”

“Are you certain that that is what happened?”

“Sure, I mean, she made that whole speech to that goody-two-shoes Bianca about polite behavior.”

“And if it was an act?”

An act? “Why would she do that?”

“Think about it. What did she gain by speaking to her sister in that manner?”

“Nothing. She acted like a good little princess and her bastard of a betrothed won.”

“Language, Harry.”

“You said I could say what I wanted.” Harry reminded him, suddenly realizing that he was talking to the man. If he starts acting like a git, I'll stop. He can't make me talk. He kind of wanted to, though, at the moment, if he'd get up the courage to admit it.

Snape nodded. “True. Anyway, Petruchio did not necessarily win. That's one interpretation, but there are others.”

Harry was curious despite himself. “Really?”

“Yes. For example, many have speculated that Katherina cooperated with Petruchio in order to humiliate Bianca, and that the two had in fact become allies.”

“Hmm. Didn't seem that way to me.”

“Very well. You are entitled to your opinion. What of the other one? Did you enjoy Twelfth Night?”

Harry couldn't help but smile. “I liked that one better.”

“You enjoyed the prank, I presume.”

“Yup,” Harry said, “it gave me tons of ideas.” Actually...I wonder what Trelawney would think if she started getting love letters from Snape? He'd heard hilarious tales of the loony professor from the twins. I bet they'd help me with the forgery, if I ask...hmm...'my inner eye predicts great things between us'...eww. Or maybe he should do it with Sinestra. That'd get both of them. Ugh. That's even grosser.

Snape's face was impassive. “Oh joy. I live to give my students ideas.”

“You can only blame yourself.” Harry pointed out, “You didn't have to give me the books.” I'm glad he did, though...

“Too true,” Snape acknowledged wryly, “I do appear to be slipping. Must be those narcotics.”

Harry smiled. “I did warn you against them, sir.”

“You did. Again I find I can only blame myself. Speaking of which, I notice that you haven't returned Macbeth. Are you reading it?”

“Not yet,” Harry admitted, biting his lip, “they're kinda hard to read so it's slow.”

“That's not unexpected. Even adults find Shakespeare's language difficult at times. I expect Macbeth will take you even longer, as it is not so light-hearted as the other two, and as the plot is arguably more complicated. Feel free to come to me if you get confused.”

“Just not about the potion.” Harry stated, remembering Snape's challenge to him to find out what it was.

“All the clues you need are in the text. Any help I would give you would make it too easy.”

“Okay.” Harry acknowledged. I can always just not do it, it's not like it's an assignment or something. He did enjoy a challenge, though, and this one sounded like it could be fun.

After a minute or two, Severus decided to break the silence. “So what was it that you made the room of requirement provide, last time?”

“You mean the ball pit?”

“Presumably.”

“It's a muggle thing. They have them at McDonald's and stuff, so that parents can get rid of their brats for an hour or so if they want to.”

“I take it you like them.”

“Yeah. I'd never played in one before.”

“How did you know you'd like it then?”

“I dunno. I just wanted to try it. Dudley always liked them.”

“Dudley is your cousin?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you get along?” Severus wanted to know.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“'Cause.”

And the conversation died again. Is there anything in that household that the boy is willing to talk about? Finally he decided to change the subject.

“So, what happened between you and Professor Sinestra?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked warily.

“Well, the two of you do not seem to get along...what happened?”

“I guess...sorta like what happened in the first Potions class, sir, except more...hysterical.”

Severus lifted an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

(Start flashback)

“Malfoy, Draco.”

“Here, Professor Sinestra.” Malfoy answered unctuously. Harry almost gagged.

“Nice to see you again, Draco dear. How is your father?”

“Quite well, thank you Professor. He sends you his greetings.”

Sinestra smiled. “Yes, do tell him I say hello.” She looked back at her schedule.

“Nott, Theodore.”

“Theo.” Theo corrected cheerfully. “And I'm here.”

“Death Eater family,” Sinestra commented mildly. “Your father kill anyone lately?”

Theo looked down, frowning for the first time since Harry had met him, but stayed quiet. Well if he's not going to say anything.. “And how about Mr. Malfoy, Professor, or is it okay that he's a Death Eater 'cause he's so pretty?” I am such an idiot. Why do I always have to get involved?

“Lucius Malfoy is a very respected figure, Mr...?”

“Potter, Harry.” Harry said contemptuously, hearing the whole class swivel to look around at him, and ignoring it in favor of staring back at Sinestra. “Son of a muggleborn and a pureblood, and raised by a couple of hideously ugly muggles, since you seem to care. Does it matter?” Aaand I get myself in trouble yet again. Am I really that dumb?

“Apparently,” Sinestra retorted, voice going a bit shrill, “it does. Your parents may have been brave, Mr. Potter, but you're a worthless little rat, while Draco here has clearly been raised to higher standards.”

Who're you calling rat, bitch? “I suppose it depends on where your values lie, Professor. I'm not the one that seems to enjoy kissing Malfoy ass, after all, I'm just trying to defend my friend.” And yup, I really am that dumb. Then again, Sinestra didn't seem like either a 'Vernon adult' or a 'concerned adult' – more like an 'idiot adult.' She won't do anything.

“A Death Eater.”

So my parents don't matter, 'cause I'm such a little shit, but Theo's dad makes him a Death Eater, and Malfoy's, a saint? Doesn't she realize how screwed up that is? “A Death Eater's son, just like Malfoy, and it doesn't mean shit about who he actually is. Malfoy's a pureblood, and I'm mixed, and we're both obnoxious little 'rats' as you put it.” Finally Harry decided to give up. He'd said his piece. “Whatever.” Harry said, sitting back. “I'm here.” The professor seemed to want to say something, but then just checked off his name and moved on.

Theo smiled at him, whispering, “Real friendly, there. Way to make her feel the love.”

Harry whispered back, “Well what do you want me to say, 'here I am my most lovely and attractive professor, please allow me to kiss your luscious butt-cheeks?' I thought you didn't like Malfoy.”

Theo and Blaise both choked, snickering, while Theo whispered back, “please say that? Please?? You'd be my Knight in Shining Armor! I'll even pay you!”

“Sorry to disappoint, Theo, but I don't think even I am dumb enough to take pay to piss off a professor that badly on the third day of class. I think I've gone far enough. Feel free to do it yourself, though. I'll write a nice sympathy note to your family.”

“Nah,” said Theo, “this is Sinestra. My Da said she can teach okay as long as everybody stays cooperative, but she mostly just screeches if they don't. He says her voice could peel paint.”

“Misters Potter, Nott, and...” Sinestra looked at her clipboard, “...Zabini. Would you care to share your conversation with the class?”

Blaise stared at her impassively, while Theo just smiled, completely unrepentant. It was Harry who spoke. “Not particularly.”

“That was not a request, Mr. Potter.”

Harry shrugged, tense but careful not to show it. “It sounded like one.”

Sinestra's voice started to get shrill again. “Well it wasn't. Explain, Mr. Potter.”

In for a penny, in for a pound...“Very well, actually, we were talking about you, Professor, and whether kissing ass was worth the effort. My cohorts here were explaining politely that perhaps I should be more friendly, and I, obviously, disagreed. Lovely an ass as I'm sure it is, I'm pretty sure that I'd rather get in trouble.” Theo better be right about this woman...

“Language Mr. Potter! And- how dare you! You- you foul-mouthed little shit!”

Yup, he was right. “Oh fine, call me names. While you're at it, you forgot 'Freak', 'little bastard' 'shithead', and 'punk-assed cunt'. You're not gonna bother me, trust me. And who're you calling foul-mouthed, anyway? You started it.”

(End Flashback)

“And so...yeah. We didn't get along so great after that.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “I can imagine.”

“Hey, she called me a worthless brat before I called her anything.”

“True.”

“And a lot of my language was about me, not her!”

“Also true. That does not make me any happier, however.”

Harry frowned. He's not gonna punish me is he? That was WEEKS ago! “Why?”

“I've told you before that I did not want you referring to yourself in that manner, have I not?”

Damn. “This was before that!”

“Yes, and as such you're not in trouble, but that does not mean that it doesn't bother me.”

“Hmm.” Why should it bother you if it doesn't bother me?

Severus decided to move on. “Do your relatives actually call you all of those things?” I suppose that's where he learned the language...

“Sure, among others. Well, mostly Vernon, I guess. Aunt Petunia doesn't like cursing. She just calls me Freak, or Rat like Sinestra does.”

“And this is supposed to be an improvement?”

“Sure,” Harry said, feeling inclined to defend his aunt, “Petunia's lots nicer than Vernon.”

“How so?”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again and shook his head. What could he say, really? That she fed him, sometimes? That she didn't hit as hard? That she always missed when she swung the frying pan at him, like it was just for show? That she kept him away from Vernon sometimes? I'm not that stupid, thanks.

“You won't answer?”

Harry shook his head again. Sorry, but you don't tell people things like that. You just don't. “I don't want to talk anymore.”

Harry found himself tensing up again, nervous after the turn the conversation had taken, and so when Snape just sighed, he tried almost timidly. “Can I go?”

“The hour is not yet over.”

Harry slumped in his seat, kicking his feet unhappily. “I know.”

Severus sighed again. He did talk to me. That's got to be worth something. “Ask politely.”

“Hmm?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Ask again, politely.”

Harry perked up. “May I go, sir? Please?”

“Very well. You're dismissed. Just don't forget to come back for detention.”