The next morning, Severus woke up at his usual time with a splitting headache. It was not uncommon to feel that way after receiving a concussion the night before, but no matter how many times he got one, it still hurt. Even with the potions and the spell there was always still the slight flitters of pain in the morning to make Severus more than uncomfortable and more than a little cranky.

Getting up, the Potions Master went through his usual routine before he left his chambers, not caring about the unfinished potions essays he’d left behind. He’d get to them eventually, when he had time. No one could blame him for not getting them done. Between having the Headmaster breathing down his neck, Harry’s resorting, the Death Eater threat, most of his Slytherins hating him, and then the sudden appearance of Moody, Severus thought he had a fairly good excuse. Besides, it wasn’t like any of the students would whine to him about not getting their homework back yet. Everyone knew that it was suicide to complain to the Potions Master, and Severus was only too ready to encourage that belief.

As he was making his way to the Slytherin dorms to collect Harry, the Head of House was surprised to see Minerva McGonagall waiting for him, not looking pleased in the least. “Do you often stalk the dungeons at this time, or is there something you want?” he asked silkily, pleased that he had caught the witch off guard when she jumped.

But instead of some biting remark of her own, Severus knew that there was something wrong when she just turned and glared at him before saying, “We need to talk,” in a tight manner.

Although he could guess what this was all about, Severus still wished that the witch was there for something trivial, such as to threaten him to be nicer to the Gryffindors this year. But knowing the look in her eyes, the Potions Master knew that he was not going to be so lucky. “Can this wait?” he asked softly, lest his voice ring out through the halls.

“No. It cannot,” the Deputy Headmistress said very seriously.

There was a moment when Severus wanted nothing better to do but just sigh and stomp his feet like a first year, but he held it in. He was getting a bit nervous with the situation even though he knew he should not be. Minerva was probably here because Harry or the Headmaster had told her what had happened the night before. She probably just wanted to yell at him for being stupid enough to hurt the all glorious Sirius Black or something. And yet there was something else in the woman’s eyes that declared that not all of her anger was going to be directed at him…

“Come with me,” he bowed his head before guide the witch to the Potions classroom.

Once the door was shut, Minerva wasted no time. “Are you insane?” she growled. “What were you thinking when you decided to strangle Sirius Black in front of his own godson?”

Glaring down at the witch, Severus found that what little patience he had had that morning vanished. “If this is just about Black, you can get out of my classroom,” he snapped.

 Lifting her chin defiantly, the Transfigurations teacher did not budge. “I am the Deputy Headmistress here, and you will have to respect my authority,” she hissed. “Now answer my question.”

Scowling blackly, the Potions Master found that his temper was rising and his head was pounding. “You think that you have all this authority over me, but you don’t,” he hissed right back. “And what if I don’t answer? You think you’re going to get me sacked? Get the Headmaster to come and talk to me?” he sneered.

Realizing that there was nothing she could really threaten Snape with and it still be believable, Minerva found herself close to tears from sheer frustration. “Damnit, Severus! You scared Harry half to death! He thought you were going to kill his godfather!”

“I would have been doing the world a favor,” he rolled his eyes.

“Why aren’t you taking this seriously?” McGonagall yelled. “That boy’s been through so much in such a short time, and then you decide that you want to try and kill the only person he has left?”

A surge of jealousy shot through the Potions Master at that statement. Why did everyone seem to think Black was the last person Harry had left? The boy still had the Weasleys and Granger, hell, he even had the werewolf Lupin! Why did everyone care so much about Sirius bloody Black?

“Get out,” Snape’s voice dropped into a deadly whisper.

“Severus, I want-”

“Get out!” the wizard barked. “I don’t want to speak to you about this. You don’t know what’s truly happened.”

Seeing the man so frustrated and so angry, Minerva regretted being harsh from the beginning. All of her worry, her fears had just come out as anger when she had seen the wizard. It really was hard to look at the man in black and  think of him as an agent of Light, even though she had know this for years. Snape just did not strike someone as having a heart, and sometimes she really did forget that the usually emotionally detached wizard did have feelings and needed to be talked to like everyone else.

“Severus,” she said more gently, “I’m sorry…it’s just…you didn’t see how upset the boy was last night.”

If that was supposed to make him forgive her or make him feel any better, it did not. In fact, it just made Severus even more resentful of Black. Why did Harry like that mutt so much? Harry had spent months believing that the man had been the one to betray Lily and James, and only until the end of his third year did he understand that Black had been wrongly accused. So why had the boy decided to forgive and attach himself to that worthless mongrel so quickly? Harry had spent most of the summer with Severus, and the boy still seemed nervous about even talking to Severus! Only out of extreme emotional need had Harry let Severus hug him, but the moment he saw Black he all but leaped into the convict’s arms!

“No. I did not,” he growled. “But I’m sure he saw the mutt off safely,” he sneered, hoping none of his bitterness would show.

 “He wasn’t just concerned over Black, he was worried about you too,” McGonagall said quietly. She heard the acrimony in the wizard’s voice, but she thought that it was due to everyone being concerned over Sirius rather than himself, who had probably been hurt worse than the animagi. Harry had been concerned over him? Severus’s first thought was to ask why, but as he recalled the nights events he realized that it would be rather unsettling to see your professor and father blasted up against the wall by the Headmaster. And he had been bleeding, after all, and rendered unconscious. The last he could remember, Black had still been awake.

“Was he?” he occluded his mind to make himself sound cold and uncaring. His normally aloof nature was slipping back into place.

There was a moment when Minerva did not speak and Severus could see a light dancing in her eyes, a light of debate. Not liking this at all, the Potions Master’s own mind went about trying to decide what it was the witch seemed to be contemplating. If Minerva had been to the Headmaster’s office, what had Albus told her? She seemed upset and worried, and yet he could tell that she was not just angry with him. Could she be angry with Dumbledore and Black as well?

“Severus,” McGonagall sighed, at last coming out of her silence. “I know,” she said simply.

Even though he had begun to suspect it, the confirmation of someone else knowing about his past had Severus staring down at the witch in astonishment. There were many things that he wanted to say, many things that he wanted to do, but Severus could not do anything but stare down at his former professor. “What?” was the only word he managed to say.

Sighing again, Minerva looked up into the onyx eyes of the wizard. “Albus told me about what he’d done…about how he separated you and Lily and made Lily believe you were dead. And about how he had pushed her into marrying James.”

There were no words that were adequate to describe how Severus felt at that moment. All he knew was that he was in pain. For most of the summer he had been trying to ignore how he felt, and focus on his anger. All his life Severus had never been able to show his real feelings unless it was anger. Anger was his constant, his ally, his way of protecting himself. Anger and hatred were all Severus had come to know for years after he had lost his Lily. But now that he was suddenly faced with new, oddly extraordinary circumstances, after facing the fact that he had been betrayed, there were so many things Severus felt, but as of yet, he had ignored most of it. Hearing another person speak of his plight hit him hard, shaking him into reality as though for the first time, even though he’d been living the new truth for a month.

Feeling his head spin, the Potions Master leaned on one of the tables, his dark hair curtaining his face, hiding his pain, his remorse, his regret, his hatred. Breathing became almost too much for him as his memory began playing images of Lily before him. For a split second he thought he could hear her laughing, he could see her smile, her winking at him…

“Severus,” Minerva’s soft voice shattered the delicate trance the wizard had been in. Unsure as of what to do, the witch lightly touched Severus’s shoulder.

Minerva jumped when Snape flinched terrible, and pulled away. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed, turning away.

“Severus, I…I can understand how-”

“How I feel?” Severus turned around, glaring dangerously at the Transfiguration professor, his dark eyes glistening with unshed tears, as he gave a biting, mirthless bark of a laugh. “How could you possibly understand how I feel?” he sneered.

Picking up her courage, Minerva stood her ground and simply staring at the man before her, determined to help him even as compassion swelled within her. “I’ve never had something like this happen to me, but I…I can imagine-”

“You cannot,” Severus growled, fighting to keep his emotions under control, but he found it rather difficult. “No one can understand just what I’ve gone through.”

“I know it hurts,” Minerva said sympathetically.

“You have absolutely no idea,” Snape growled, becoming frustrated with the witch, even though his rational side told him that she was just trying to help.

“Then why don’t you tell me,” she said gently. “If I don’t know how you feel, I can’t help you.”

Another silence filled the room, deafening the ears. Minerva waited patiently, wanting the younger wizard before her to open up. Severus locked too many things away and it was not healthy. She wanted him to know that he could trust her, that she did not condone Albus for what he’d done. It was clear that the Potions Master needed help, or at least a crutch that he could lean on in his troubling times. Dumbledore had always put too much on Severus’s shoulders, and now that the boy was free of his spying obligation, Minerva was determined to help protect Severus, help him stand up for himself, like she should have done in the first place.

“You want me to tell you?” Snape’s voice was quiet, but it also held a acidic poison to it that could not be ignored. “My heart was made of a fragile glass, so fragile that I had to lock it away in a container. The day I found out about just what I’d had, just what I’d lost, just who betrayed me, it felt like someone had smashed my heart into a thousand pieces.”

Minerva listened, her eyes filling with tears as she watched the wizard before her tense with each passing word. “And all those shards of glass,” Severus went on, “are now trapped within that container, unable to fall away or pass. And each time I breathe, those broken shards cut me from the inside. Each breath send more shards to cut me or dig a little bit deeper into what I can still feel. I’m cold and I don’t think I can ever be warm again. I cannot rest without thinking about what’s happened. When I sleep, it does not feel natural anymore; it is not restful, and I’m starved for sleep.

“Food no longer has a taste to me. It all tastes like ash or soot, and I have no desire to eat. I eat, but it’s only out of habit that I do so,” the wizard scowled. “Each moment I have free, when I’m not doing something, my mind wanders to my memories, the ones that I’ve long forgotten, and I cannot help but believe that I’ve betrayed Lily…that it really is because of me that she’s dead. If I had not let Albus obliviate me, we could still be married and she would be alive because the Dark Lord would never have had a reason to go after her in the first place,” his voice became thick.

“And every day in the school year, I’m forced to look into the face of James Potter, and only now do I truly taste the bitterness of the situation,” he scowled, as though he really did have a foul taste in his mouth. “Now I’m conflicted, tottering between hating that face more than I did in the past, or loving it as it is the last link Lily’s left behind,” Severus trailed off, knowing that if he went any further he would regret it.

Turning around slowly, the wizard looked back at his colleague, who had stayed absolutely silent throughout the entire confession. The witch was sobbing silently, almost as though she, too, could feel Severus’s pain. As watched her, Severus’s mood darkened, realizing now that even though he might have felt a bit lighter from speaking to the witch, nothing had been gained by it other than securing Minerva’s pity, and he did not wanted that. He never wanted pity.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, feeling uneasy. He felt guilty for making Minerva cry, but he really did not know why she would. No one, except Lily, had ever cried for him before. He had always believed that he was not worth anyone’s tears.

“Oh, Severus,” the witch sobbed. “How can you…how can you ask me that?” her dark green eyes were red-rimmed from crying.  “If that’s how you feel, how can you not be in tears?”

Scowling, Severus turned away again, feeling his eyes well up with his own frustrated pain. “I don’t have many more to shed,” he said tightly. “What good are tears?” he went on, not wanting to be seen so weak, even after he just admitted to feeling like hell. “Tears don’t make anything better. They help nothing.”

“They release the bitterness,” she said quietly. “They cleanse, help lessen the remorse.”

“No tears have ever done such a thing for me,” Snape said austerely.

“Severus-”

“Get out,” he sighed, at last unable to hold it in. “I must go,” he added quietly.

“Severus, maybe you should go back to your quarters and rest,” Minerva looked over the wizard in concern. He was leaning heavily on the table once again, and just the sight of him called more tears to her eyes. Severus had been right though, Minerva could not imagine such a pain, a pain so intense it derived the body from feeling anything but agony and remorse for what was lost. She could not even claim such pain after the loss of her dear Charles, as Charles had died an old wizard and no one had forcefully taken him away. Charles had passed naturally, Lily had been ripped away from Severus and handed over to another man only to be murdered.

“What good would that do?” the wizard hissed. “I have work that needs to be done,” he straightened back up and walked towards the door. “I must make sure that no one harms, Potter.”

Minerva saw Severus flinch ever so slightly at the name, but understood it much better. “Very well,” she bowed her head. “But if I can do anything…” she let herself trail off, not knowing what she really could do to help this man.

“You can keep this to yourself,” Severus said gruffly. He had not really meant to confide in Minerva, but after last night he had needed an outlet.

Understanding the harshness, bluntness much better now, Minerva was not offended by the Slytherin’s rudeness. Severus was a private man who told nothing about himself to anyone. For him to open up and confess to Minerva was a large demonstration of faith on his part, and she was touched that he would trust her. “I will not say a word to anyone,” she said quietly. “And if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask me,” her voice took on her usual firmness now that she had wiped her tears away. “Keep the Headmaster out of my way and that will be all I ask,” Severus said sharply as his thoughts turned to Albus. Another swell of hatred for the old man rose up again and he had to push it down lest he storm the halls until he kill the old fool in his office.

Nodding, Minerva turned to leave. “Severus,” she said, just as he was walking back down to the Slytherin dorms. Once he stopped, she went on. “Perhaps you can explain things to Harry. He’s just a boy, and he does not understand what’s going on…he really was scared of you and for you last night.”

“I know,” Snape said almost too softly for Minerva to hear before he stormed off again, his robes billowing behind him as he went.

*******

When Harry had woken up, the first thing he did was moan. He had had a terrible night and he did not feel like going to classes that day. Besides that fact that he did not want to go because he was a teenage boy and classes were absolutely no fun at all, he also did not want to go because he was now in Slytherin. And there was the even bigger problem of having double potions that night, right before dinner, and he would have to see Professor Snape, his father, the whole time.

Sitting up in bed, Harry found himself suddenly nervous. Three years experience told Harry that potions was not going to be pleasant, that Snape was just going to harass and abuse him in class. In fact, even before his first year was over, he had come to expect the cruelty that Snape always dealt out to him in class. But this year was different, wasn’t it? This year Snape knew that he and Harry were father and son, and Snape was no longer a spy, meaning he no longer had to feign complete favoritism to the Slytherins. So what would today bring?

Getting up, Harry went through his normal morning routine. When he got out of the lavatory, dressed and ready to go, he stepped out to see that Draco was awake and staring at him. “Um, morning?” Harry said gently as he went to his trunk to get his books out, for the day since he would not be coming back to the dorm until that night.

“Where were you last night?” The unexpended question caught Harry off guard, and he just turned to stare back at the blonde. “What?”

“Where were you?” Draco repeated moodily. “You didn’t come back until after ten, almost eleven.”

The concern was touching, but not at all like Draco Malfoy. Becoming instantly alerted that something was wrong, Harry went back to getting his books together, hoping he looked calm and collected. Harry even wished he had his father’s mask of cool at the moment. “I went to talk to the Headmaster’s all,” he said confidently.

“Was Professor Snape there?”Harry’s head snapped back up, and he locked eyes with Malfoy. Those steel gray eyes gave away nothing, at least nothing Harry could detect. A hundred questions flooded Harry’s mind at once, most of them wondering why Draco would want to know about Snape. The blonde hated Snape now, Harry had seen that quite clearly the first night when Snape had given a beginning of the year speech to his House, so why was the blonde so concerned? What motive did Draco have? Was he collecting information for his father, Lucius?

“Uh, yeah, he was there,” Harry answered carefully, watching for anything to give the blonde away, although he did not know what he was looking for.

Instead of smiling or trying to give some fake explanation like Harry would have thought, Draco scowled instead, as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. Malfoy stared at a spot on the floor, his eyes unfocused, and yet Harry could tell the other boy was deep in thought. What was Malfoy after this time?

Slowly, Draco nodded and got up to use the lavatory himself, closing the door behind him rather loudly.

Frowning, Harry wondered what that conversation had been all about. Why would Draco want to know if Snape had been at a meeting between Harry and the Headmaster? No matter how many ways Harry thought about it, he could not see any real harm in telling Draco about where Snape had been the night before. As far as Malfoy knew, Snape had been at the meeting because he was Harry’s new Head of House, and then afterwards, the professor had gone to his chambers to grade, or something like that.

Did Malfoy somehow know what went on last night? Had he seen Sirius in the castle? Or perhaps he saw Snape when he had left the Headmaster’s office and saw him hurt? Or maybe Snape had not gotten up, and Dumbledore had had to take him to the Infirmary? Was that it? Was Draco trying to find out what had happened the night before after seeing Professor Snape?

Feeling suddenly ill, Harry sat back on the floor and closed his eyes. His father had not looked so bad the night before, he had just been unconscious. But there had been blood…Had the Headmaster cracked his father’s skull? Merlin, what if his father was going to die?

Harry did not know how long he had stayed like that, but he had apparently been there pretty long, because Draco came out of the bathroom then, clean and dressed for the day. It was only when the blonde knelt down at his own trunk did Harry realize that he was running a bit late. If his father was indeed okay, then he would be waiting for him once he ran up into the common room, and then Harry would get a lecture about being on time and things would be all right. But if Snape wasn’t there…

“I’ll, uh, see you later, I guess,” Harry said, grabbing his bag and leaving Draco behind, feeling compelled to say something, yet wanting to leave as fast as he could.

Harry left so quickly he did not have time to see Draco sneering after him as he ran out the door.

Taking several steps at a time up the stairs, Harry managed to come into the common room just in time to see Snape walking in the door himself. Although no one else would have noticed it, Harry could see that Severus did not look all that well. The Potions Master still had dark circles under his eyes, and his stance was ridged. The professor’s dark eyes glistened with some unknown emotion, one that spoke of deep thought. Yet there was a sadness that could not quite be described. Just looking into the onyx eyes for a brief moment, Harry felt his heart break.

“Sir?” Harry said gently when it became clear Snape did not really see him standing there.

Looking down at his son, Severus looked over the hated features of James Potter. Every feature that did not belong to he and Lily were lies, Dumbledore’s lies, and Severus was having a rather hard time not destroying every last trace of James Potter from his son’s face. After talking with Minerva, he wondered if he was going to be able to get through the day without losing his temper, or worse, show some weakness in front of the Death Eater children.

Without saying a word, Severus guided Harry out of the room, his hand resting briefly on the boy’s back, before they walked up ahead through the hall. Harry was becoming more and more worried over his father, and several times started to say something only to fall silent. It was odd to feel so comfortable around the Potions Master and yet so awkward. The boy was not sure how he felt about his father at the moment. On the one hand, he was concerned for the man, as he had been hurt the previous night, but at the same time, he had watched his father strangle his godfather, someone Harry cared for very much.

“Sir?” Harry managed to say after what seemed like ages of just walking.

“We will discuss it later,” Snape said quietly.

Frowning, Harry wondered if Severus really knew what he was talking about. “About last ni-”

“Yes,” the professor cut off.

It was silent the rest of the way to the Great Hall. When they were almost there, Severus stopped suddenly, and Harry stopped along with him. “I am…I apologize,” the Potions Master said before Harry could even question the halt.

Looking down at his shoes, Harry was ceased with a curious feeling of guilt. He did not know why, but seeing his father in such a state made him feel as though he had done something wrong. It was weird, Harry hadn’t even done anything, and yet looking at the Potions Master before him, he was suddenly feeling terrible. Was it because of what Sirius had said to his father the night before, all those accusations? What did it feel like to be blamed for the murder of someone you loved? How did Severus feel when Sirius accused him of killing Lily?

Although it was too late to change anything, Harry knew he should have done something. While Sirius had been out of prison for a year now, there was still an insanity to the wizard. There was still something in Sirius’s eyes that told of his sad tale. Sirius’s eyes reflected his bitterness, his torment, his insanity clearly, in a way that strangely reminded Harry of his father’s eyes. But Snape’s eyes were colder than Sirius’s eyes, much colder, but if you could get underneath the ice and the hatred, Severus’s own story could be read. Harry had not been able to read everything about his new father, but he was getting there. He could see more than most now, and he understood enough to know that while Severus tried to portray a collected man, a wizard that could handle everything, he was still just one man, a tired one at that, that was being faced with too much at the moment.

“S’okay,” Harry said quietly. “I was just wondering if you were…you know, all right.”

“Perfectly.” It was a lie, and Harry knew it, but did not dare say anything. “We will talk later,” Snape repeated before he pushed Harry in front of him to walk into the Great Hall.

Walking in, Harry scanned the Gryffindor table to see Ron and Hermione sitting with Ginny and Neville. Ron flatly refused to look at Harry as he walked by, and Hermione gave him an apologetic look and a shy smile. Ginny looked down bashfully, as though she knew what she was doing was wrong, but did it anyway. Neville was the only one that seemed to come to terms with Harry’s resorting, and gave him an encouraging smile. And although Harry felt nothing short of terrible due to his friends cold behavior, he still managed a smile back to Neville, telling the other boy that he appreciated his kindness and understanding.

Sitting down at the table with a sigh, watching his father stalk up to the Head Table, Harry looked down at his breakfast options, knowing it was going to be a long day.

******

After breakfast was Herbology with the Ravenclaws. The class went on fairly well. Professor Sprout had them all turn in their summer assignments before pairing them up to transplant several flowering plants that Harry recognized as some he'd helped Severus with that summer when they had been making potions together. And as luck would have it, Harry had been paired with a Ravenclaw girl, a Brittney Kamman, who was an agreeable partner. She stayed quiet most of the time and did not stare at him too much or ask about his resorting or even scowl at him. It was rather refreshing. However, there was one time when Goyle, Crabbe, and Zabini tried throwing some rocks at him only to be stopped, thankfully, by Malfoy. Harry did not hear exactly what the blonde had said to the three, but he imagined it did not make them happy. It actually surprised Harry a little that Draco followed through with his promise.

After Herbology was over, and without having any more trouble, Harry packed up his things slowly, wanting everyone else to get out and pass him so he did have more trouble. “Thanks for being my partner,” Brittney smile shyly at Harry before she walked away, his honey colored hair in her ponytail bobbing behind her as she left.

Feeling a bit better about things, Harry stood up and started to walk away when he noticed that Theodore Nott was still there, staring out the door. Harry wondered if the other Slytherin was planning something when he happened to locked eyes with his House mate. When Nott saw Harry watching him, the wiry boy blushed profusely before he all but ran out of the greenhouse.

Finding that a bit odd, Harry decided not to waste any more time and decided that he should get to Charms class. On the way, he saw Ron and Hermione in the hall. He tried to call to them, but they did not hear him, and he was pushed by the crowd of panicking students to get to class. He felt a bit disappointed in not being able to see them, but decided not to let that ruin his day. It was odd though not to be with Ron and Hermione almost every minute of the day now.

Walking into the almost empty classroom, Harry saw Nott sitting by himself at a desk on the left side of the room, looking through a book. When he looked up to see that it was Harry, Theodore ducked back down into his book, muttered something to himself before he decided to ignore the former Gryffindor.

Harry sat down and stayed quiet as well. He had never really thought much about Nott, as the other boy never really did much to him. While Nott was a pureblood Slytherin, he never really did much, nor did he join any of Draco’s groups. It was strange, as Harry never really thought of a pureblood Slytherin being an outcast, but as he looked at it, he realized that Nott did not seem to want to join in with Malfoy’s group. It was strange, but at the same time Harry decided that he should be glad; that was at least, one less Slytherin he really had to worry about.

Professor Flitwick came in soon after, smiling and greeting the two Slytherin boys happily before he began looking over his notes. The other students started coming in then as well. The moment Draco was in the room, he scanned it, looking for Harry. He seemed to calm a bit knowing the other boy was there, before sitting down next to Zabini, who still seemed to be sulking after Malfoy scolded him. Crabbe and Goyle didn’t seem to remember that the blonde had been mad at them earlier at all.

Professor Flitwick was very animated as he gave his lesson, making Harry happier still. The day had started rather crummy, but it was getting better. Flitwick did not assign any group work, but Harry was content with working on a new charm by himself. Although he did miss hearing Ron and Hermione bicker over the pronunciations of the spell or how to hold the wand or flick the wrist.

The class ended with everyone turning in their summer work before getting their new assignments before going to lunch. It surprised Harry that Draco walked with him. It was awkward and full of tension, but the two rivals managed to walk to the Great Hall together without too much trouble. A few Gryffindor tried to use a tripping spell on Malfoy, but Harry seemed to still have some influence with them, and they quit before McGonagall came. Draco had not really said thank you to Harry, but lifted his head up high, as though he were a prince and Harry had only been doing his duty. Their relationship seemed only to be focused around duty and an unwilling truce it seemed, but Harry had to admit that it was better than constantly fighting with the blonde for hours.

Entering into the Great Hall though, Harry felt like Judas as he walked in with Malfoy. Ron saw them and his face screwed up into a nasty scowl before he looked away. Hermione looked a little confused, even a little hurt, but she still gave him a weak smile. Ginny, refused to even look up, and again, Neville was the only one to smile, and he gave a tentative wave at his former House mate. Harry grinned sadly at his friends and gave a short wave back.

As he sat down at the table, Harry began wondering just who Caesar was in his messed up life since he was apparently Brutus. He was going to say something to Draco when he noticed that the blonde had walked away, sitting a little further down with his group, leaving Harry alone again. It actually made Harry feel a little bit sad. He did not like eating alone, and even though his company was going to be Malfoy, it was still better than no one…at least he thought it would be. But that was not his luck, so he went about filling his plate before he ate quietly.

After a few minutes, Nott came over and sat near Harry, but did not sit next to him. At first Harry thought it was because the other Slytherin wanted to hear what Draco was talking about without being in the conversation, but after a while, Harry noticed that Theodore kept taking shy glances at another table. He could not be sure what table Nott was looking at or who, but Harry wondered if the other boy had some sort of plan running through his Slytherin mind.

Lunch seemed to take forever, but when it was finished, Harry took a deep breath to get ready for his last class of the day; potions. He saw Ron, Hermione, and Neville getting up to leave and grabbed his bag and ran after them. “Wait up!” he called.

Hermione and Neville stopped, but Ron kept on going. Hermione gave another shy smile before muttering a “How are you?” before excusing herself to go after Ron. Harry felt like he’d been slapped in the face when Neville placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about them, Harry,” he said kindly. “Hermione’s been trying to get Ron to come around all lunch period."

“Then why’d she run away too?” Harry asked sadly.

“She’s probably just scolding Ron, you know, like she always does,” the Gryffindor smiled gently.

“Yeah,” Harry was able to grin back. “Well Neville, shall we go to potions and get it over with?”

At this, Neville seemed to pale slightly and lost all courage. “I supposed,” he said quietly. “I just hope Snape’ll be in a better mood.”

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned.

“Ginny was telling us about him today. Said he was really foul yesterday, started giving out detentions and such to anyone that was 'out of line',” the young Longbottom seemed to quiver. “I even heard he gave someone a detention yesterday for ‘loitering’ in the hall when they had really just stopped to tie their shoe!”

The descriptions sounded like something Snape would do, but Harry tried hard not to be afraid, though it seemed Neville’s fear was catching. “Don’t worry too much,” Harry said confidently, feeling his Gryffindor courage rise for the first time in what felt like forever. “I hear Snape’s just extra irritable because he’s not so popular with the Slytherin students anymore,” he whispered. “Just do what you’re told in class, stay quiet, and you’ll be okay.”

The other boy did not look so confident, but nodded. Together, Harry and Neville walked down into the dungeons and made it to class right before Snape burst through the door in his usual dramatic fashion. It did not matter how many times Harry had seen the Potions Master do that trick, it always made him jump when the professor made his entrance.

Stalking up to his desk, the Potions Master conjured the class list and took attendance in a military fashion before he turned away to the chalk board. With a flick of his wand, he put up the instructions to a potion before spinning back around to face the class. “Hand in your summer essays,” he commanded bluntly, and everyone, even the most ornery Slytherin and Gryffindor obeyed instantly.

Once the essays were stacked up on Snape’s desk, he scanned the room with piercing eyes. Harry felt like his heart was going to give out. It felt just like his first year when he had first met the angry professor, and Harry was afraid that Snape was reverting back into his old self, forgetting their relationship the moment he'd walked into his classroom. But when Snape’s eyes landed on Harry, they swept over him just as quickly as everyone else.

The room was deathly silent, both Houses too afraid of the Potions Master at the moment to move. “Can anyone tell me what potion I have put up on the board?” Snape asked, once his inspection of the students seemed to be over. Hermione’s hand flew up.

“Miss Granger,” the professor actually called on the bushy haired girl.

For once, Hermione paused, as though she had raised her hand out of habit rather than actually knowing, and honestly did not seem to know what potion it was.“The Forgetfulness potion?” she seemed to guess.

The trademark sneer found its way back onto Snape’s face as he glared at her. “That is incorrect,” he growled bluntly before he looked around the room again, searching for another hand. It actually surprised them all that he had not deducted points from Gryffindor. “Mr. Potter,” Snape barked, making Harry feel as though his heart had just given out.

Taking a deep breath, Harry looked up to face his professor. “Sir?” he asked timidly, cursing himself for being so afraid.

“Enlighten us,” Snape sneered. “What potion is that?”

Looking at the board, really just wanting an excuse to look away from his father’s angry face, Harry looked over the list and was surprised that he actually knew what it was. “It’s the Deflating Draught, sir,” Harry answered obediently.

“Is it?” the Potions Master’s face was a mask, as he seemed to be playing more mind games, making Harry feel a bit ill.

But Harry knew that he was right this time. He had made this potion with his father over the summer several time while helping him stock the Hospital Wing. “Yes, sir,” he nodded slowly.

Snape stared at Harry a long moment before he turned away. “Five points to Slytherin,” the professor said as he used his wand to pass out several ingredients that were not standard in student kits.

While that was going on, Hermione gawked at Harry for a moment. She had tears in her eyes at being, in her eyes, humiliated in front of everyone. “How did you know that?” she whispered over Neville.

Unable to deny himself the pleasure of earning points in potions class, Harry could not help the smile that came to his lips. “I just remembered reading about it,” he shrugged.

 “Now then,” Snape snapped once everything seemed to be in order. “You are to work with a partner from a different House,” he glared at the room, daring a student to complain before he went on with his instructions on how to make the potion and what it should look like. “You have two hours. You may begin.”

Harry took Neville as his partner, knowing that the other boy had an acute fear of the Potions Master and would likely mess up because he was so scared. But Harry was determined to do well, and decided to help the poor Gryffindor. After all, Neville seemed to be the only real friend Harry had left, helping him in potions was the least he could do.

The two worked surprisingly well together, considering that Neville’s hands kept shaking. Harry did most of the cutting while Neville did the crushing part, and while Neville stirred, Harry would add in the ingredients when the time came to it.

While Neville was stirring, and he did not have much to do, Harry took a chance to look over the room. Hermione had gotten stuck with Draco while Ron was working with Crabbe. He also saw Nott working with Seamus, who was mostly just talking to Ron. Snape went over to them soon enough though and began his reign of terror and began deducting points left and right.

“Hey, Neville?” Harry asked quietly. “What do they guys say about me being in Slytherin now?”

Neville looked very uncomfortable at this, but did not back away. “You know…they’re just mad…and they say you’re a traitor.”

“It’s not my fault the Hat switched me,” Harry wanted to scream, but it managed to come out as another whisper.

“That’s what I keep telling them,” Neville nodded, but stared at the potion he was stirring. He seemed to be concentrating extra hard as he did not want Harry to get marked down because he had messed up. “But I think Ron will come around after a bit,” he added after glancing up to see Harry’s forlorn expression.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry muttered as he added in the last salamander tail. “It says you need to stir it twenty-three more times clockwise before we should let it simmer for three minutes.”

The two waited as the potion finished before they waited with baited breath to see if the potion would come out the color it was supposed to. After the three minutes were up, the potion turned a light blue color. At that moment, Snape appeared behind them, peering over top of them to look at their work. The potion was only half a shade off the color it needed to be, and the two students waited to see what the professor, who had hated both of them in the past, would say.

After what seemed like forever, Snape did nod. “Adequate,” he said tightly before he walked away.

The two partners looked at each other before they both smiled broadly. That was the best they had ever done in potions before, and they had done it all by themselves. There was no sarcasm from the Potions Master or anyone there to make fun of them. To Harry and Neville, it was a great victory, even though it had not been perfect.

As everyone turned in their potions, there was only one group to get a perfect, and that was Hermione and Draco, who were both rather good at potions to begin with. “We’ll get that perfect next time,” Harry whispered to Neville, feeling strangely competitive all of a sudden.

“I’m just glad we passed let alone get an almost perfect,” Neville smiled.

When everyone turned in their potions, Snape went about assigning and explaining their new homework before gruffly dismissing them. Neville began to wait for Harry, when Harry shook his head. “No, go on, Neville, I’ll see you later. Maybe after dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll be in the library with Hermione.”

With those plans made, Harry slowly gathered up his things and just after a minute, everyone was gone, no one wanting to stay longer than necessary in Snape’s presence. And once Harry had straightened everything up, the doors closed and he turned back toward the front of the room to see Snape staring at him.

“You did well today,” the professor said rather gently. But no, Snape was no longer a professor at the moment, he was Severus  and that meant father. Beaming, Harry set his bag back down. “Thanks!” he glowed with pleasure.

“You would have gotten a perfect had Longbottom not crushed the beetles too fine.” Although Severus was not as harsh with Harry anymore, he was still Snape, and could not help but criticize it seemed.

“He did very good I thought,” Harry stuck up for the only true friend it seemed he had left.

“Well. It’s very well, not good,” Severus muttered before turning to erase the board. “And I was pleased the Longbottom managed not to explode a cauldron for once. Pity he broke his record of mealting a cauldron on the first day. He had it for three consecutive years.”

Although the statement was dripping with sarcasm and was a bit mean, Harry found himself chuckling. This was the Severus he liked, the one that acted like his father, the one that told jokes. He still hated the idea of having to hide their relationship, but on the other hand, Harry got the “fun” Snape all to himself and he didn’t feel much like sharing his new father anyway. “Yeah, well…he did do well.”

Severus rolled his eyes at the boy before turning to look Harry over, sobering immediately. “About last evening,” he began, causing Harry to stiffen. “I must…apologize again for my reaction to that m- to Black,” the Potions Master’s face darkened at the thought of the convict. “I should have kept better control. It will not happen again.”

Harry found himself feeling even more awkward than he had the first day he had spent with Snape in Llanfair. He had never thought it remotely possible for Snape to apologize, but here he was, doing it anyway. “Um, it’s okay…I was just wondering if you were all right, I guess.”

“Fine, thank you.” Severus seemed to be just as nervous as Harry.

After a tense pause, Harry was unable to help himself and blurted out, “Is Sirius still my godfather or not?”

Severus did not answer for a moment, but stared at his son for several seconds, as though trying to decide on what to tell the boy. “Technically speaking, no, Black is no longer your godfather,” he said, his eyes hardening when he spoke of the mongrel. “As I said, his rights were stripped when he was placed in Azkaban.”

Harry looked up at his father in despair. “But you said that the parents could give the rights back, didn’t you? You could make Sirius my godfather again?”

The hope in the child’s eyes was staggering, and seeing such hope in Lily’s eyes almost had Severus on his knees, ready to give in to the demands of the boy. But Severus and Sirius had too much bad blood between them for Severus to just grant the convict any rights over his son. “I could,” he answered tightly.

Knowing that he was perhaps asking for too much, Harry looked down at the floor again. He had been stupid to expect his father to make Sirius his godfather, especially after what had happened the night before. In fact, Harry decided not to count on seeing Sirius much after everyone found out that Snape was his father, because once the rouse was over, there was no way his father was going to let Sirius anywhere near his son. Actually, Harry was certain that Severus would do everything he could now to get him away from Black.

Seeing Harry suddenly deflated of his happiness- happiness that had been robbed of him the past few days, Severus felt badly for the boy. If only he could make Harry see just how much he hated Black, then Severus was sure the boy could get all thoughts of animagi out of his head. While the mutt paraded around as some kind of hero in the old tragic tales, strutting about as though he were the ultimate good, Severus knew better. Black was not as nice as he lead everyone to believe.

“I will think on appointing you a godfather later,” Severus promised, having realized that he should very well amend his will, knowing now that his life could very well be over soon with the Death Eaters out on the loose. He wanted Harry to be safe and looked after should anything happen.

Harry nodded, telling himself that he should have expected this from his father all a long, and not to take it so hard. After all, this had been a fairly good day, he should not spoil it.

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded after a moment.

“Let’s go to dinner,” Severus said gently, guiding Harry to the door in much the same manner as he had before.

As they were going, Harry suddenly stopped. “Dumbledore said that you were Draco’s godfather and the Malfoys gave you back that right after you had been arrested…Have you been in Azkaban? How did you get out?”

Severus froze at the question, and Harry watched his father intently. Obsidian eyes became vacant as he seemed to be looking at something that no one else could see. For a moment, Harry thought that perhaps his father had gone into some sort of trance, or that perhaps he was going to recite another vision, when he seemed to snap himself out of it. “You do not need to know about that yet,” Severus said quietly before pulling open the door.

Together, the two made their way up for dinner.