The quidditch season, though not officially started until November, drew large crowds and was part of the house rivalry background throughout the school year at Hogwarts.  It was a rough, bloodthirsty sport and Harry thrived on it.  However, he could not fathom for the life of him why Dumbledore, in all his wisdom, had decided that tryouts could be held at the same time for two teams on the quidditch pitch.  There was that speech about sportsmanship and teamwork that had been made during the announcement, but Harry didn't believe a word of that.  Not with the twinkling blue eyes that accompanied the scheduling of Gryffindor and Slytherin to share the pitch together, and the pure nasty looks that were directed at them from the Slytherin table.  There would be no inter-team sportsmanship. There would probably just be blood.

Harry raised his empty mug mockingly to Malfoy and the Slytherin team, giving a not so subtle two-fingered salute.  Neville, Seamus, and Dean plunked down across from him before he could see Malfoy's answer, but Harry didn't mind that much. He had a feeling the tryouts were going to be exhausting, as an unbelievable amount of Gryffindors were rumoured to be coming out.  At least, if nothing, they'd hopefully end up with a good pick up game of quidditch after.

If Ron managed to keep his breakfast down, that was.

Hermione was giving Ron a rather sympathetic look from across the table as Harry calmly ate his porridge, ignoring the greasy bacon and instead wishing he had coffee to go along with his food.  He only drank it in the mornings over the summer, but it had become habit and now that he was back at Hogwarts with its innocuous tea and innocent pumpkin juice he missed it like crazy.  He wanted something strong in the morning dammit, something to kick-start himself with.

"Potter, have you resorted to having staring contests with crockery?"  Snape's voice was recognizable anywhere, and the familiar sneer from over his shoulder made Harry jump. He turned and glared upwards at the amused look on Snape's face.

"It's more polite than staring at people while they eat, I reckon."  Harry replied, holding onto his empty mug in a ridiculously protective way as he held Snape's gaze.  In his peripheral vision he saw Hermione's eyes widen at his response, and something outrageously golden coming into view.

"Indeed. Good luck with the tryouts today Potter, though after your little jaunt at the ministry I daresay this task might be boring."  

Harry had only a few seconds to reflect that Snape had said something eerily similar to him after Hallowe'en in his first year and wonder just what Snape knew about the tryouts that he didn't, when the yellowish object near him made itself known.   Luna stood behind Ron looking like a burnt autumn coloured Egyptian queen, orange and gold shawl draped over her muggle jeans and jumper, with a large wooden lion head sitting impressively and sternly atop her head.  The lion's face was deftly carved and was larger than Luna's own head, with the mane circling around and made of golden brown feathers.

As if enough of the students were not staring openly at Luna's bizarre outfit, she calmly reached up and stroked the cheek of the lion's face, causing it to issue a chest vibrating roar that echoed through the hall and scared the wits out of most who were eating. Ron's hands flew up at the sound, causing him to upend not only his pumpkin juice but to splash it and the full jug over three plates of breakfast goodies. Seamus and Dean dropped and shattered their mugs of tea and Hermione's fork clattered to her plate, echoed by many others in an unholy cacophony of noise.  Behind Harry, Snape gave out an amused snort, and then whispered a spell before snapping his robes and stalking up to the staff table.

Harry felt his hands go warm and smiled to himself as his friends around him sopped up their spilled food, enjoying the coffee that had appeared in his mug.

"Shouldn't you be eating properly if you're going to be going for an allergy test tonight?"  Hermione asked, looking annoyed with Harry for not jumping out of his skin with the roar of Luna's lion.  Harry just shrugged.

"Do you like the lion, Harry? I thought it would bring some spirit to your team."  Luna smiled dreamily, seemingly oblivious to the glares her hat was getting.

Harry took another sip of his coffee and smiled back.

"It's brilliant, Luna."

.......

The damage wasn't too bad this time, Harry thought as he sat on the hospital bed and slowly swung his right leg back and forth.  The left was a bit too sore to do that, but he was sure by Saturday it'd be fine.   They'd won the no holds barred pick up game at least, and Crabbe had been suspended for using a cutting hex on Harry.  Harry looked at his mangled left fingers and the deep gash that ran from his elbow to his shoulder.  It was from an elementary scissor spell, if Harry had heard Hooch correctly, and even though it was meant to just act as a  replacement for scissors it had done quite a bit of damage.

Madame Pomfrey finally entered back into the room, carrying Harry's file and shaking her head.

"Must you play such dangerous sports?" She admonished, pulling a small wheeled table and tray up to his side.  Harry winced as she rolled up his sleeve and started to clean the wound.

"It's not my fault." Harry pointed out, thinking about the times he'd landed in the infirmary due to quidditch.

"Of course it isn't." Madame Pomfrey clucked, casting a sanitization spell over the wound. 

Harry smiled when his tattoo came into view. Glamours didn't stand a chance against mediwitches.

"Is Professor..."

"He's dealing with Mr. Crabbe. I believe he will be along shortly."  Madame Pomfrey answered, as she drew her wand along Harry's arm in a zig zag and watched as stitches formed.  Not two minutes later the door opened and Snape walked in.

"When you are finished putting Humpty Dumpty back together, I require a word with him over his version of the events."  Snape announced in a very bored voice. 

He was standing beside the bed next to Harry, with his hands down by his side and his eyes intent on every move Madame Pomfrey made.  He may have sounded like he'd been ordered to be there, but Harry could see the concern on his face and knew once they were safely in Snape's flat that he'd probably get another safety lecture.

"Hold out your arm, I need to take some blood for the allergy test."  Harry winced but did as she said, feeling slightly light headed as he watched the blood spurt out from his arm into the vials. It was an interesting sight.

"You'll tell people I'm in for the night, right? And can't see anyone?"  Harry asked, hoping Madame Pomfrey would cover for his absence.

"If you promise not to end up here again anytime soon."  The mediwitch replied sternly, motioning him off the bed as she capped the samples.

"But I just love this place so much, it's so cheery and pleasant."  Harry replied sweetly, snatching up his sweaty quidditch gear.

"Out, Mr. Snape. Out!" Pomfrey admonished, waving her wand at him.  Harry scooted toward the front door, again feeling cheerful.  Friday night and he had some time to relax at Snape's.  What an odd thought that was, and Harry would have laughed outright at it three months earlier. He stopped at the door to wait for Snape.

"And you, Severus."  Pomfrey started, though she stopped when Snape bowed slightly and mimed tipping his hat. 

"Good evening, Madame."

He strode out the door at a quick pace, ignoring the clucking noise Pomfrey made behind him.

.......

Snape pushed him onto the couch when they'd arrived back to the flat and shushed Harry's protests that he was fine, lighting fires in the sconces and fireplace before sitting down in his favourite wingback chair.

"The next time I allow you to play quidditch, we will disable the watch. I found the consistent warning to be rather tiresome."  Snape started, taking his own watch off and dropping it on the side table next to the couch.

"Yeah, okay." Harry agreed, reclining on the couch and kicking off his shoes. "What do you mean the next time you allow me? I'm the quidditch captain!"

"You're also a walking magnet for trouble.  It's almost as if you find Darwin's theory of evolution to be some sort of personal challenge."  Snape eyed him carefully, before summoning a menu from the kitchenette. "Choose what you want for dinner, we'll order from the elves."

"Were you cheering for me at least? Or for the Slytherins?"  Harry asked, opening the menu and checking out the soups. It had been a chilly day out, and after getting sweaty on the field and flying through the wind, Harry wanted something to warm him up.

"Don't be stupid." Snape said, spelling Harry's shoes to float over to the hallway. "I cheer for the bludgers."

Harry snorted and got up to go inspect the bookcases as Snape ordered dinner through the fireplace.  Unlike at home, Snape's bookcases here were a bit more subdued with the subjects, and there didn't seem to be as many books.  A few small knickknacks lined the shelves, most likely gifts from past graduating students as they all ran along the same theme of either potion work or Slytherin decoration, and there were a few framed photographs of Hogwarts grounds at sunset.

Something rather bright caught his attention and Harry tuned out Snape's argument with a house elf as he thumbed through a set of rather new books that was on a low shelf.  There was no way Snape had bought these, Harry thought with a grin, and he picked up a garish orange one before turning around to face Snape.

"At the End of Your Rope, Dealing With Your Teen in the Trying Years."  Harry had a smirk on his face as he read the title out, and almost laughed at the disgusted look on Snape's face.

"Your head of house fancies herself a comedian, and gifted me with several parenting books after our discussion on Tuesday."

"I could get you one of those Number 1 Dad coffee mugs, if you want, like the teacher one Professor Dumbledore has."  Harry offered, keeping his voice sounding very innocent.  He barely managed to avoid the tickling hex Snape sent his way and was saved by dinner's arrival.  He put the book back on the shelf, giving a quick odd glance at another parenting book that was there and had a Dutch guilder price sticker on it.

.......

At midnight Harry, under a disillusionment charm that made him seem similar to a ghost, left the flat with Snape and followed him through the dungeon halls as they made their way upstairs.  It was rather chilly, and Harry couldn't help yawning as he walked.

"Stay awake. You're of no use to me asleep on your feet."  Snape admonished, slowing his pace so Harry could keep up.  They had no lantern with them, as Snape claimed that Harry's night vision would develop best without one and a light would limit how far they could see.  Harry's shoes made scuffing sounds as he walked along the hall and he winced at the noise, wondering how Snape could move so quietly. He shifted his weight on his feet and was happy to find that it did make a small difference in the noise.  As they walked, he tried different patterns in his step to alter the sound his feet made.

They entered the empty Great Hall and Harry stole up to the professors' table, slipping into Snape's spot with a grin.  No wonder the man seemed to always know when something was up, he had a great view from this seat.

"And now the reason we are here."  Snape announced in a silky tone, standing behind Harry and tapping his arm with his wand. He didn't say a word about Harry sitting down, which made Harry suspicious.  "If you remember correctly, you have not been punished for your role in destroying a certain vial from my storeroom."

Harry felt the blood rush to his face as the memory of the mercury incident floated to his mind. Of course Snape had not forgotten. Harry had only hoped against hope that he had.

"Yes, sir."

"You will help patrol the corridors for miscreants every Friday night for three weeks." Snape said, his look daring Harry to disagree.

"Yes, sir."  Harry answered, wondering how he'd managed to get away without cleaning anything.

"And we shall be making use of Lupin's map."  Snape added, watching for Harry's response.

Oh.

Harry's forehead thunked softly on the table as he groaned and removed the parchment from his jumper pocked.  Dobby had ever so helpfully reminded Harry to take the map that evening, so he could add Snape's place to it.

"So it is Lupin's handiwork." Snape muttered as he unfolded the parchment on the table.

"You didn't even know? You lied!" Harry blurted, snapping his head up.  Snape waved him off.

"I hypothesised, there's a difference. Show me how the map works."  Snape pointed with his wand, but didn't touch the parchment.  Harry didn't either.

"You're bluffing to get information out of me. And this is...it was...it wasn't mine. I can't."  Harry trailed off, staring at the map.  Could he give up something of his father's, to Snape? To let Snape use it against the students?

"Elliot."  Snape's voice cut through Harry's thoughts.  "I am not confiscating the map. You are serving detention for endangering yourself and destroying property, and this map will aid you in your detention. Show me how it works."

Harry looked at Snape's unreadable face and took in what he didn't see.  Snape didn't look victorious, and he didn't look like he was calculating something either.  Slowly Harry took his wand out of his pocked and touched the map with it, taking a breath.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."  They both watched as spidery ink seemed to leak from Harry's wand and build the castle by blueprint.

Snape was fascinated by the power of the magic and the amount of research gone into portraying the castle proper, including the shortcuts.  Harry was surprised to find his label said Elliot Snape.  Sure enough, he was marked off in the Great Hall, but the name Harry Potter was nowhere on the map.  He'd have to make sure Ron and Hermione didn't see the map any time soon.  Somewhere, Harry thought with a wry grin, his father and Sirius were having a heart attack.

"Does it detect invisibility cloaks?" Snape asked, looking like he was working out a puzzle.

"Yeah."  Harry answered, watching Peeves bounce around the transfiguration room like a pinball.  "And animagi and polyjuiced people" Harry mumbled, remembering Barty Crouch and Wormtail.

Snape had a wicked smile that curved his lips upward, one that showed he was inordinately pleased about something, and it didn't compliment his features at all. Harry distracted him by pointing out a little dot that had broken away from the hive of Hufflepuff dots in their dorm. They watched for a minute as the tag for Cassandra Morganson hesitantly made it's way towards the stairs. Snape pointed to another corner of the map where a Slytherin was lurking near the library doors on the fourth floor.

"Friday night, it starts."  Snape murmured, collecting the map and motioning for Harry to follow.  They exited the hall through the teacher's exit, and Harry kept quiet as they stole up a narrow and hidden staircase.

When they passed the third floor, Snape cast a muffliato spell over the two of them, which took Harry by surprise.  "That's one of the spells from your potion book, isn't it?"

"My word, he actually does study."  Snape responded dryly, holding back a tapestry and nodding at Harry to go through it.

"I needed something to read in History of Magic." Harry shrugged sheepishly.

"Your inadvertent efforts seem to be paying off, as at the last staff meeting I suffered silently through Horace Slughorn's half hour praising speech of your delightful potion instincts."  Snape said, sounding like he was complaining. 

Harry stopped dead and stared.

"Silently? As in, you didn't contradict him?"

"Why would I argue with Slughorn?"  Snape replied with a bit of irritation, pulling out Harry's map and checking it again.

"You're proud of me."  Harry said with a grin, feeling rather warm all of a sudden.  Before Snape could deny it, however, Harry pointed down at the floor.  They watched with interest as small grey chunks of stone shuffled in the shadows, moving like ants in a line against the wall. They were from marble to golf ball sized, and reminded Harry of the lemmings game that Dudley used to play on his computer. 

Ignoring the two wandering students for the moment, whom according to the map had entered the library, Snape and Harry followed the little bits of rock as they made their way down the hall and away from the main fourth floor corridor.  Once they'd gotten to the set of stairs that led directly down to the infirmary, Harry watched with wide eyes as the stones suddenly stopped and melted into the wall.  It took all of thirty seconds, and with a second blink it became difficult to distinguish the lemming stones from the wall rock.

"What the hell was that?"  Harry breathed, stepping forward and moving to touch the wall.  Snape grabbed his hand first and prevented it, shaking his head.

"I'm amazed you never lost any fingers as a child."  Snape muttered, waving his wand over the rock to test the magic that had animated the small parts.

"Let me see the map." Harry asked, ignoring Snape's remark.  Snape handed it over distractedly, still studying the wall.

Harry poured over the Slytherin dorms highlighted in the map, rubbing his wand against the side of his head as he scanned the names.  He smirked at a few of them, seemed that pureblood wizards were rather creative with the ridiculous names they chose for their children.   Even though he also looked in the common room and washrooms, Harry couldn't see any tag for Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy's gone."  Harry stated, catching Snape's attention again.

"He cannot be."  Snape asserted, snatching the map back from Harry and scanning the dorms himself.  Harry looked over his shoulder and scanned the fourth floor, where the stones had appeared.  No Malfoy there either, which Harry found rather strange.  The only thing out of place on the map was the secret passage behind one of the mirrors, the one Fred and George had told him had caved in a while ago and lead to an unknown shop in Hogsmeade.   Snape suddenly straightened up and interrupted Harry's thoughts.

"Come. You have an hour left of detention and there are two errant students in the library."

......

The guest room bed was almost as comfortable as his bed at home in Stockport.   Harry rolled over and cracked one eyelid slowly open, searching through the very dim room until it found the clock on the side table. Six oh seven am.  Harry smiled to himself and burrowed deeper under the down comforter, enjoying the warmth in the cool dungeon air.  He had just drifted back off to sleep, happy that it was a Saturday morning and his friends believed he was in the infirmary for an allergy test, when he heard a loud chirping sound.  Harry's brain temporarily jammed, as he tried to figure out how a bird had managed to get into the dungeons and stake out his room.  After not getting back from night patrol until one thirty in the morning, Harry was rather tired.

At quarter to seven am, the bird chirped again.   Harry's messy head of hair lifted up from the white pillow and he groped blindly towards the nightstand for his wand, intent on hexing the hell out of the annoying creature.  Three minutes of chirping later and Harry finally sat up, glaring at the small plastic bird he could finally see on the dresser.  Snape's voice from the door nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"Get up, before I turn that into a water bird."

Harry padded into the small kitchenette not long afterwards, wearing his flannel pyjama pants and an old t-shirt he'd found in the dresser the night before, a navy blue faded shirt that said ABERDEEN POTIONEER CONFERENCE '85.  Snape watched from behind the Daily Prophet as Harry slumped into his chair, eyes half closed and yawning.  

"You didn't think that I'd let you sleep in after doing hall patrol, did you?" Snape asked, sounding perfectly awake.

"Mmph."  Harry mumbled back, pouring himself some cereal and managing to pour some coffee as well without spilling it on the table.  He saw out off the corner of his eye that Snape had a list of things to do by his placemat that he was adding to, but Harry didn't care that much. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and glared down at the bowl of Rice Krispies that was crackling in the milk he'd just added.

"Shut up."  Harry said slowly, giving his cereal a withering look.

Snape raised his eyebrow at the command, but didn't say anything.

After breakfast was done, Snape took up his list and cleared his throat for Harry's attention.

"What do you know of interest rates?"  Snape asked, sounding casual and as if this were a normal every day breakfast conversation.  Harry stared at him as if he were a martian.

"The goblins pay you to house your money in their bank, do you have any idea how much that is per annum?"  Snape clarified, still looking expectantly at Harry, who this time managed a shrug.

"If you were suddenly thrust into the real world without a trust fund and the Weasleys to give you advice, could you find your own place and set your affairs correctly?"   Snape asked slowly, flicking the top corner of the list with his finger.

"I can make a pot roast."  Harry replied confidently.

Snape blinked.

"Aren't you supposed to help me with that though?"  Harry asked, finding his train of thought even though his body was still complaining about the early bloody hour. "You know, help me out with growing up and stuff."  Harry waved his hand a little, feeling silly and inarticulate.

"And stuff."  Snape repeated, rolling his eyes.  "We shall begin with home finances and basic housing information.  Taxes are in the spring, and we'll focus on those then. And as much as you may enjoy your pot roast, I do believe some nutrition lessons would not go amiss."  Snape frowned, looking over Harry's scrawny form.

"Sounds good, Dad."  Harry smiled, feeling happier than he had been when he'd gotten out of bed. Finally someone was sitting him down and teaching him something useful for life.

Snape checked his watch and summoned a house elf for more coffee.

"Get one of the note scrolls on my desk, Elliot.  We'll start with a home budget today, and you can go back to your friends after lunch."

.......

Snape sighed and rubbed his wrist distractedly as the headmaster spoke. Order meetings were usually not held at Hogwarts, and certainly not with only Snape and McGonagall present, but with the unusually pleasant weather gracing their area, a weekend trip to Hogsmeade had been suggested for the students.  It was only Wednesday, but as a chaperone schedule needed to be worked out, they needed a few days to plan.

"Bee in your bonnet, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, looking amused.

"Hardly. Though I must go and speak with Madame Pomfrey later, now that I remember." Snape replied, pulling a small notepad from his pocket and tapping it with his wand, to remember the note.

One of the portraits from Grimmauld's place caught the headmaster's attention for the moment and Minerva leaned over to speak softly.

"Are you all right? You do look worn and you keep rubbing your wrist."

Snape glared, but only for a millisecond.

"Do you know how often that blasted boy is put into a dangerous situation? In potions class, last time it was a spill that nearly scalded him, but there are also a few students whom seem to take delight in throwing caustic and explosive additions towards his cauldron, like mentally unbalanced monkeys. And we shall not speak of that farce of a quidditch match that happened last week."

Snape was very grateful to note that McGonagall held back from giving him a I told you so smirk.

"He's a lad, Severus, they all get into things at that age," she replied, sounding like she'd been there before.

"I never did."  Snape huffed, knowing it was a lie, though the difference was that his parents hadn't seemed to care either way.

"Oh no? Must be a different foolish young man that took a tattoo..." Minerva had the gall to look amused as she said this.

"Nobody asked you."  Snape interrupted, crossing his arms and keeping the left one shielded inward to his chest.  It was hard sometimes not to fall into the childish student role with her, as she'd been one of his kinder teachers at Hogwarts.  Especially since McGonagall realised this and still acted motherly to him on rare occasions.  And like all mothers, she knew when to change the subject.

"How are you monitoring him? I can't imagine he'd be pleased knowing he was being watched."

Snape pulled back his sleeve and displayed his simple and elegant black watch.

"He knows he's being monitored for danger, at least until Voldemort is destroyed." Snape closed his eyes as the headmaster argued about the best sweet shop in London with Phineas. "I may have neglected to mention the spell is one parents use when toddlers are learning how to walk."

Snape opened his eyes again when Minerva patted his arm with a friendly smile.

"He's a lucky boy and you'll survive. This Saturday shall I send him down again? He seems to sleep better when staying over."

"That will be fine." Snape nodded. "I'm sure he can think of an excuse for his friends."

"He will have to tell Weasley and Granger at some point." McGonagall noted.

"The restriction is only in place until Elliot believes they are ready to hear it."  Snape answered, wiping the watch face with his sleeve.

"Elliot? That reminds me, I'd love to hear your version of how Harry managed to sweeten information out of Amy Benson."  This time there was a teasing glint in her eyes, and Snape ignored her completely.

.......
 
Harry stood outside the headmaster's door for a few minutes, early and a bit eager to hear about the lessons Dumbledore planned.  The office door opened and Harry was slightly surprised to see McGonagall and Snape exit, but he smiled politely and gave Snape a small grin.

"What have you done now?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes.

Harry pretended to look insulted.

Dumbledore waved Harry in and offered him tea, which Harry declined partially out of lack of thirst, and partially out of suspicion.  He was fairly certain Dumbledore would never spike his drink with calming draught, but in all honesty, Harry had smashed the man's office to bits the last time he'd been in there and he'd been around Snape long enough to spark that bit of paranoia.

No further tea was offered though, and Harry listened intently as Dumbledore highlighted the troubles of young Tom Riddle's life.  Upon seeing the dreary orphanage that Riddle grew up in, Harry once again pondered which had been the worst childhood.  Riddle had no idea who his parents were, whereas Harry had lived with the constant reminder that someone had once loved him, while the rest of his family didn't. .

After an hour and a half of listening the speech about Riddle's sadistic tendencies and his inclination for collecting souvenirs, Harry stood to bid goodnight.  There was a lot of information swimming around in his head, and he knew that Snape would be peppering him with questions on the weekend.  Harry made it to the door before pausing with his hand on the handle and turning to face the headmaster.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened to your hand, sir?"

Dumbledore gave him a sharp look.

"Now's not the time, I suppose." Dumbledore was smiling, but Harry felt annoyed.

"Not many months left for the right time." Harry shrugged, taking enough of a pause to note he'd unsettled the Headmaster before saying goodnight and taking his leave.

........

"So you don't actually have detention tonight."  Ron said, his face betraying his confusion.  They were walking across the front field back from Hagrid's hut, where they'd had afternoon tea and avoided the rock cakes.

"No.  It just looks like I do."  Harry replied, kicking some stones ahead of him.  He'd been distracted all day, deep in thought about eleven year old Voldemort.  He'd looked eerily similar to how they'd all appeared on their first day at Hogwarts.

"Like the remedial potions last year." Ron supplied, a look of horror taking over.  "You're not studying occlumency again, are you? Dumbledore would have to be daft to force that on you again." 

"Unfortunately, as long as Voldemort has a connection to my head, it's something I need to learn."  Harry replied.

"I can't believe I was ever jealous of you." Ron remarked, shuddering visibly. Harry smacked him lightly on the arm.  "Is the greasy git being a little nicer to you this time round at least?"

Harry ignored the name-calling and focused on giving a neutral answer, without disabusing Ron of his assumption that the time was spent doing occlumency.

"He is, actually. This time he's actually managed to teach me a little, too."  Harry shrugged, squinting as he got used to the darker light in the castle.

"Don't tell Hermione that, soon she'll actually pushing us to get along with Snape."  Ron countered.

They stopped off in the Great Hall to allow Ron and Harry to nab some food.  Harry because he'd be in ‘detention' with Snape, and Ron because he was meeting up with Hermione.  It had only taken Ron fifteen minutes of stuttering before Harry finally understood that Ron was taking Hermione on a sort of non-date in the room of requirement.  Harry pushed aside his slight feeling of jealousy and clapped Ron on the back, wishing him good luck as they parted ways.  Ron climbed the stairs to the seventh floor with an excited blush on his face, and Harry walked determinedly to the dungeons and Snape's office, more than ready to unload the lesson from the night before and hear Snape's theories regarding it.