Several days later, Harry and I continue to have breakfast together. I can sense the uneasiness in him as he picks through his food. Something is different about him, but as I call to mind the past week, I cannot recall what. According to Draco, Harry loves his new room, and both boys have been spending time together, along with Miss Granger and Mister Weasley. I stare at the young man in front of me before finally admitting defeat. The answer is not going to come to me that easily.

"Perhaps it would be best if you informed me what troubles you this morning."

"Nothing," Harry mumbles, refusing to look at me.

"Forgive me, but that is a load of crap and you know it. Speak your mind."

"It's nothing," he mumbles again and lowering his head even further.

"If it truly is nothing, you wouldn't be acting like a kicked puppy. What is it, Harry?" He doesn't respond again, but instead starts to rustle through his backpack. I watch him in silence, wishing he'd open up so I would know what I did. A few moments later, I catch the familiar papers in his hand. The realization hits me like a stunner. How I could have been so stupid is beyond me. "So that's where those went," I say in a soft enough voice so he can hear me. He then drops the papers on the table and stares at me with those damn green eyes.

"Why do you have these?" His voice is barely above a whisper. I can see the fear. I do not respond. I only stare at him He obviously can it figure out. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I believe that I have done nothing, Harry."

"You left it on my bed!" he snarls at me. "It's like you were teasing me. 'Look what I got you, Harry. I fixed you up with a new room and hey, by the way, I also have some adoption papers here that I just will conveniently lay on your bed for you to find.'" His eyes are accusatory towards me. I wisely remain quiet. "You're no different than the rest of them. You only want me because you want to use me. After all, I am the Heir of Slytherin, you know."

"Is that right?" I respond calmly. "And just made you such an expert on me?" This time is his moment to be silent. "The headmaster had given them to me to look at in case I wished to choose that path. However, I have yet to decide on that. In case you've failed to notice, we have both been extremely busy these past few days so I had not given the papers much thought."

"You didn't have to," he growls. "You don't want me. The only reasons you would ever want me is due to my mother and the whole Heir of Slytherin nonsense. You think I've forgotten how you treated me before…before you decided that I was worthy to be in your precious Slytherin."

"I see," I respond with a soft sigh. Harry's anger has been simmering for a while it seems. Underneath everything, I thought we were all right, but it appears I am mistaken. I draw in a calming breath and stare at him. I can see the anger and contempt behind those green daggers that now pierce me. I naively believed that his choosing Slytherin proved that he took my word at face value. Obviously, in his mind now, my value is nothing. "If you wish to return to Gryffindor, you need only ask the headmaster." My stomach clenches as it prepares for the hard emotional blow.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Pawn me off to another without having any responsibility?"

"It is not responsibility that is the issue here," I reply.

"Oh, yeah, what is the issue then, Snape?"

"As if I would ever tell a snotty little twelve year old," I retort allowing my temper to reign.

"I hate you!" His emotions are clear on his face. The look of revulsion and anger pales in comparison to how Albus had treated me after learning I had taken Voldemort's Mark. Harry then stand up and storms out of the room. As soon as he is gone, I sigh heavily. That could have gone better.

I glance at the papers that sit on the table. One of these days, I'm going to kill Albus, and preferably, it occurs on the Astronomy Tower with a well-placed Unforgivable. I can clearly imagine the scene. It would be a dark, windy night with storm clouds and Albus would beg me not to kill him.

I glare at the horrid papers that are ruining my life. An idea hits me, and for the first time in a very long time, I act on pure instinct without thinking of the consequences. His horrific Gryffindor side now rubs off on me. If the boy hates me now, I'd hate to see the look on his face when he finds out I've signed the damn papers. Seconds later, after I finish my signature, the papers vanish with a loud pop. My eyes widen as I realize what I've done. DAMN YOU, ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, I snarl in my mind.