On Wednesday, the sixth years' classes finally started. When Harry started down to Potions, the familiarity of the descent unnerved him. He was heading into the dungeons, and that felt safe, now, but it wasn't, anymore. He wondered if his father was still angry at him. He supposed it didn't matter -- Severus would treat him horribly whether he meant it or not -- but Harry wanted to know whether or not he would mean it.

He arrived early, and the only other student present was Terry Boot of Ravenclaw, who was seated near the back. Harry selected a seat near the front, but to the side. He wondered if there would be any other Gryffindors in the class. Harry was just starting to take out his supplies when a slight figure appeared near his side.

"Well, if it isn't the Junior Auror," drawled a familiar voice. "Where's your Mudblood girlfriend, Auror?

Harry looked up. He repressed an angry response to the slur on Hermione and answered:

"She's in another session. I suppose I'll have to make it on my own, this year."

"I thought you were in Remedial Potions."

Harry shrugged, partially to settle his shoulders. He wondered if he could turn this into an actual conversation, rather than a string of insults. "I was. I was left with Muggles, you know, when my parents died, so I missed some basic stuff. Learning that helped, and got me through the OWL."

"Too bad you didn't have any decent wizarding friends to help you earlier," Malfoy goaded.

Harry repressed a grin. Now that, he thought, is an opening. "I suppose so," he said seriously. "Ron hardly knew more than I do -- well, about Potions. I learned lots about Quidditch."

"It's a fun game, Potter," Malfoy sneered. "It's not something you can base your life on."

"I'm aware of that, Malfoy, or I wouldn't be subjecting myself to this class," Harry returned steadily. They both tensed at the sound of boot heels in the corridor floor. Harry waited until Malfoy turned away, then added:

"Welcome back."

Malfoy tensed, but did not pause in his return to his seat. He had his hand on his chair when Snape swept in the door.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said testily, as he glided up the center aisle. He pivoted neatly at the top of the room, sending his robes swirling out around him in an ominous black cloud, but Harry thought he looked more worn and even paler than usual. "Let me make one thing clear, without delay. This is an advanced Potions class. the materials covered will be complex and rigorous. We do not have time to waste on idle chit-chat, lost quills, or frivolous questions. When I arrive, I expect all students to be in their seats, quills and paper out and ready, and all prerequisite materials in their places. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," came a small chorus of voices. Snape responded with a thin-lipped smile.

"Good. Are we all ready now? Mr. Malfoy? Mr. ... Potter? Very good. Mr. Potter --" Snape fixed Harry with a predatory stare -- "what materials are required for the Wolfsbane Potion, and how are they prepared?"

Harry could have sworn he remembered the Wolfsbane potion fairly well. Apparently, he didn't. He got to hear his incompetence gleefully derided, while Malfoy and Bulstrode snickered, and Parvati and Justin looked angry, and Terry Boot looked nervous. That was the entire class. All work was to be done individually, Professor Snape told them, so that acceptable students did not carry through their less competent partners. He looked pointedly at Harry as he said this, implying that Harry had come to this class under false pretenses. Harry felt like he was in the middle of a nightmare.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry froze in the middle of collecting his supplies. "Yes, sir?" he said carefully.

"We need to meet to discuss this ... "independent project" you and Professor McGonagall devised. Come to my office, today at 3:30."

"Yes, sir."

"Despite what you and your head of House may think," Snape added caustically, "my time is not an unlimited resource. I suggest that you be prompt."

Harry was angry enough to look up. "Of course, sir," he said furiously.

"Five points from Gryffindor for impudence. Get out of here."

This time, Harry did storm down the hallway, though he knew he looked a bit ridiculous. At the base of the stairs he met a small gaggle of Hufflepuff first years. One opened her mouth to speak, and Harry swept them all with such a glare that two of them collided in their hurry to get away. He started up the steps in grim cheer. He was embarrassed to hear, below him, one of the children nervously asking someone else how to get to the Potions classroom. Apparently, that had been all they wanted.

By the time Harry reached the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom, he was not so much angry as depressed. Five points for tone of voice was a bit over the top, even for Professor Snape. If Severus was actually angry at him, wouldn't he be more creative, rather than acting like a parody of himself? On the other hand, Harry couldn't forget how cold Severus had been the night before. They had been in private, he was sure. Harry hoped he could get some sincere answers out of his father at their meeting. He wasn't sure he could endure another scripted conversation, today.

Due to his anger-spurred pace, he was the first student to arrive for his session. Remus looked up and smiled as he entered the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," he said warmly. "I'm glad to see one of my students so enthusiastic."

Harry plopped his books down at the desk nearest Remus's desk and sighed. "Last class was Potions," he said. "I practically ran here." He looked fiercely at Remus. "Snape is a bullying git."

Remus frowned. "Harry -- You will not be disrespectful to Professor Snape."

"Fine! Professor Snape is a bullying git," Harry snarled.

"That is not acceptable either, and you know it," Remus said severely. His expression softened slightly. "Harry ... this is nothing new. You knew it would be like this."

"But he goes out his way to go after me!" Harry complained. "He was asking me about the Wolfsbane Potion, which wasn't even in the reading, then making fun of me because I didn't completely know how to make it."

Remus twitched. Harry saw his throat move in an involuntary swallow.

"Perhaps he thinks you should know," Remus said, almost absently.

Harry had to think about that. Perhaps Severus was worried that something would happen to him. Perhaps he'd shown Harry the potion so someone else at Hogwarts would know how to make it. He considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "If that's it, he should have told me."

Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan arrived, preventing further conversation. Hannah Abbot came in a minute later with Terry Boot. Ron, to Harry's relief, entered next, with Neville, but after an odd look in Harry's direction, Ron chose a seat with Neville, behind and to the side of Harry's.

The next arrival did not make Harry feel any better. It was Draco Malfoy, whom Harry would have bet a thousand galleons would not take Defense Against the Dark Arts now that it was optional. Probably an easy pass for him, he thought darkly, with as much as he knows of Dark Arts, or perhaps he want to keep an eye on who does well in it. Malfoy sat directly behind Harry. Finally, Hermione and Padma came in. They sat together, leaving Harry conspicuously by himself, and right in front of the instructor. He could not see anyone else's reactions to this, as they were all behind him. He got a brief sympathetic look from Remus, then the professor cleared his throat and started class.

"I am very pleased to see Defense Against the Dark Arts so well attended by the upper-level students," he said sincerely. "I believe we are all here -- except for Susan Bones?"

Hannah raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Abbot?"

"Her mother wouldn't let her," Hannah said. Her voice was almost too quiet to hear. "She got the owl this morning."

"Ah." Harry could see the pain that crossed Remus's face, but he doubted the brief twitch was obvious to the people who did not know him well. It was quite clear to all of them that Susan Bones' mother would not have objected to the subject, and her objection must therefore have been to the instructor. "Well, that is unfortunate," Remus said quietly. "She has, however, kept up on her own before."

With that, Remus smiled at all of them again. "A number of you," he said, "I believe most, studied counter-hexes and dueling on your own, last year, in an unauthorized club."

Harry was at last glad he was facing away from the others, for he could not repress a smirk. All of the fifth-year members of Dumbledore's Army had received at least an Exceeds Expectations on their Defense practicals. Behind him, he heard Malfoy snort contemptuously. Remus gave both of them an unreadable look.

"While I cannot condone the breaking of school rules," Remus said placidly, "I admire your initiative. It is always encouraging to see students who want to study. However, the .... strong viewpoints ... of your last teacher --" several people snickered openly at this, including, to Harry's surprise, Malfoy "-- leave me with only the OWL as an evaluation of your skills. Therefore, I would like to spend our first class in practice duels, so that I can evaluate your strengths and weaknesses. Here are the limits of these duels ...."

They spent the rest of the class dueling, which suited Harry down to the ground. To his relief (and, he admitted, quite possibly due to Professor Lupin's good sense), he was never paired with Malfoy. Harry acquitted himself well, and ended the lesson tired and satisfied.

Ron joined him on the way to lunch, and all Harry's ill-feeling came flooding back immediately.

"I'm so glad I gave you my schedule," Harry said coldly. "It was pleasant to have the company."

"Well, I thought you'd like Hermione sitting next to you," Ron protested.

"What, you expected me to leave Padma by herself?" Hermione asked, coming into step at Harry's other side.

"So, it's not that you're still mad at me?" Harry asked pointedly.

Hermione smiled. "I expect you suffered enough in Potions," she said primly.

Harry stormed off. He sat with the Creevey brothers during lunch. It was a peculiar form of self-torture, he knew, but it let Hermione and Ron know just where they ranked with him, at the moment, and that made it worth it. By the end of lunch, he'd decided he rather liked Colin being obsessed with Lavender. For one thing, it gave them something trivial to talk about. For another, it made Colin far less obsessed with him.

In the afternoon, Harry had his short sessions in Charms and Transfiguration. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, these would be long morning classes, like his Monday, Wednesday, and Friday Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. On all afternoons other than Wednesday, the afternoon would be a single long class period. Two of those would be Care of Magical Creatures. The other two, Harry would have free for work on his independent study project. He already suspected that when he did that work would vary considerably.

After Transfiguration, Harry went to see Snape. He had worked himself back into a temper, by now, and was holding himself barely in check when he entered the office.

Snape was sitting behind his desk. He glanced up briefly when Harry entered.

"Close the door, Potter."

Harry closed the door and stood just inside it. He found himself staring down Snape's wand.

"Well?" Snape said irritably. "Stand aside."

Harry, with a flood of relief that he was embarrassed to realize indicated that he had been afraid Snape would hurt him, stepped aside.

"Secretus," Snape said firmly. There was a brief wash of shadow over the door. "Sit down, Harry."

Harry approached the desk, but did not sit. He glared at Snape, and Snape, for a full minute, looked curiously back at him, as if Harry's anger was some interesting peculiarity. Finally he sighed.

"Sit," he said again. He took a noticeable breath, then said, "I'm sorry about last night."

"Were we alone?" Harry demanded.

'Yes."

"Then why were you like that?"

"First," Snape said coldly, "I dislike being endangered. I dislike you endangering yourself." He scowled. "However, I could have said that more clearly. I am afraid that when I return from a ... meeting, my emotional range is somewhat limited."

"Limited," Harry repeated.

"After an evening on my knees before the Dark Lord, I will attack anything so unlucky as to draw my attention. If a possible response is anger, that is what you will get."

Harry could almost understand this. Voldemort didn't leave him feeling particularly in control, either. He relaxed. "Fortunately, that passes for your normal behavior," he returned.

Snape's eyebrows rose. He coughed on a caught laugh. "Fortunately. Or someone might map the evenings that I stride through the halls, handing out detentions like the headmaster hands out lemon sherbets."

Harry did laugh. "You should have seen me leaving Potions. The first year Hufflepuffs will never dare come near me again."

"What did you do to them?" Snape asked curiously.

"I looked at them." At Snape's incredulous stare, Harry ducked his head. "Okay -- glared, maybe."

"Do you think they were actually frightened?"

"They scattered so fast that two of them ran into each other, so hard that one fell down."

Snape burst out laughing. "Did you pick them up and dust them off?"

"No, I barreled on upstairs so I could rant at Remus about you, before class started."

Snape fixed him with a hard look. "Professor Lupin, Harry."

"We're in a closed office with a warded door!"

"Nonetheless, he is now your teacher. Refer to him like that again, and I will dock Gryffindor points and claim my ten Galleons."

"Oh, all right," Harry said. He felt cross again. "Why did you ask me about the Wolfsbane potion?" he asked angrily.

"Think, Harry. Why? There was a reason."

"To make fun of me, because you know I couldn't answer half that."

Snape sighed. "You might as well say I did it so you could show off."

"What!"

"Yes, I knew you couldn't answer half that. I doubt any of your classmates would have been able to answer any of it." Snape smiled with cold satisfaction. "I got to deride you for your stupidity and ignorance, while the rest of the class watched paralyzed with the knowledge they would have done far worse."

"Malfoy wasn't paralyzed."

"Malfoy knows when to put on an act. I assure you, Harry, he is now frantically searching through the supplemental readings, trying to find out how you knew that the Wolfsbane should be harvested at the dark of the moon for greatest potency."

"And when it's not there?"

"Malfoy is a perceptive boy. It will doubtless occur to him that Professor Lupin was notably fond of you, and that this affection is, perhaps, returned. He will decide that you studied it on your own."

"And you asked me about it because?"

"Either to demonstrate that I expected independent initiative and a following of current hot topics in the field, or to point up the dangerous side of your egalitarian tendencies." Snape smiled slyly. "Draco is clever. Both will occur to him. I have not yet decided which answer to give him when he asks."

"Did you know he's taking Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Yes. He asked me to arrange for him to be in the same session as you. It wasn't difficult. I had merely to put you in the same Potions session."

"So he is keeping an eye on me," Harry said boldly.

Snape nodded. "Yes. He is."

"Oh." Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. He supposed it might make a truce with Malfoy easier, but it would also make it less real.

He realized they had both been silent for a while when Snape shifted in his seat.

"Harry..." he began awkwardly. Harry looked at him, and found Snape's face was tinged with red. He didn't appear to be angry. Harry wondered if he might actually be embarrassed.

"I ... I am ... fond of you," Snape said, as if he were admitting to some peculiarity of taste. "I will still be horrible to you in class. Please try to ...."

"Consider it a game?" Harry suggested.

"Or an exercise." Snape's mouth quirked slightly before pulling down into a disapproving frown. "Whatever gets you through my class without terrorizing the first years." He smirked. "And here I thought they were just afraid of me!"

Harry ducked his head. It was funny, but he knew he had behaved badly.

"Sir?" He waited until he had Snape's attention before continuing. "I ... I think I'll need some private time with you to not go mad by the end of next week, never mind next month. I've got the independent study, and I've got the invisibility cloak, and you implied I could visit. Could we work out something that won't make you yell at me?"

Snape frowned. "I'll need to think about it -- yes, we can," he added hurriedly, "but how...." He looked sharply at Harry. "It will not be after curfew."

Harry nodded. "That would probably improve things with Hermione, too. She was waiting to lay into me when I got back, last night."

Snape snorted. "Another matter about last night...."

"Yeah?"

"The Dark Lord has heard that you left Diagon Alley for Muggle London, undetected. He wants me to find out how you are warded."

Harry froze. Snape's face took on that mocking look that Harry dreaded more than his scowls. "Your capricious little excursion has put both of us in greater danger."

"I ... Sorry! I thought if they didn't catch me, that would be it."

"No." A flash of anger darkened Snape's face, but passed. "If they had caught you," he noted, "you would not be the only one dead. In fact, with the wards, it is not unlikely that you could have survived an attack that killed your friends."

Harry flushed. "I get the point," he said angrily.

"Do you?" Snape sneered. "I'll believe that when I see some change in your behavior."

Harry looked down at the floor. He couldn't think of anything to say.

"Harry?" Snape questioned.

"Now I'm as miserable as when I came in."

"But for much better reasons."

Harry decided that wasn't funny and shrugged. He knew quite well he was too reckless; it just never seemed applicable to what he was doing at the time. He thought of the discussion he'd had with Remus about faults.

"It's because I'm brave," he said suddenly. He was a bit surprised to realize he had spoken out loud, and looked up in alarm.

"What is?" Snape asked.

"I'm brave, therefore I'm reckless."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Do you know the difference?" he asked. Harry nodded automatically. "Then what is it?" Snape demanded.

Harry, though he knew the difference, had to think a moment about how to explain it. Finally, he looked back at his father again.

"Brave is when the risk you are taking is worth it."

"A good explanation." Snape seemed mollified by Harry's consideration of the matter. "When you left Diagon Alley, was that brave, or reckless?"

Harry thought. After a moment he answered, very quietly, "neither, sir." He bit his lip. "It was just ... thoughtless. I didn't understand what the risks were."

Snape nodded. His black eyes focused intensely on Harry. "Yes," he said quietly. "Exactly."