The young Gryffindor didn't know what to expect this year with Defense, but he certainly never thought it'd be like this. Half-listening to the turquoise robed, golden haired wizard drone on and on about himself, the young twelve-year-old leafed through one of his so-called defense books. How was this going to help him learn how to defend himself from people out to kill him?

"Well, now, I thought we'd start off today with a little quiz. Now, nothing to worry about of course, but it's just to see how well you've read our books for class this year, how much you've taken in." Lockhart flashed a beaming smile towards the class as he handed out the stacks of paper to them. "The student who answers the most correct will win a very special prize. Very special indeed." He chuckled softly. "You have thirty minutes, and you may start now."

Harry frowned before he glanced down at the questions. He groaned inwardly. Every single question was about Lockhart. Honestly, how much more in love with himself could this man be? Slowly, the young boy wrote his answers down, though. The majority of the answers were made up of course and bordered on the edge of downright hilarity.

In regard to the question what Lockhart loved most, Harry replied with a simple answer of 'himself.' Harry laughed over that answer. Honestly, this whole class was a joke. So, he didn't care about his answers in the slightest. When he finished, he pushed his paper away and snorted. His dad likely would have been rolling on the floor if he had been there to read it.

"All finished there, young man?" Lockhart beamed down at him.

"Yeah."

"Let's see, shall we?" He picked up Harry's paper and skimmed it before glancing at him again. He forced a smile a moment later. "Well, well, well, a class clown, are we?"

"No." Harry shrugged. "I just didn't do the reading, sir."

"What's your name?"

"Harry." Lockhart's eyes narrowed on him so he lifted his head up before he proudly added, "Snape, sir. Harry Snape." He ignored the looks from his classmates.

"As in Severus Snape's son?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied with a wide smile, not caring for a minute about the trouble this was going to cause him later. It was, after all, better than him saying Harry Potter after all.

"Well, Mister Snape, I'll be having a talk with your father later."

The young boy nodded. "You'll find him in the dungeons, sir."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for disrespect."

Ten points from Lockhart for being a narcissistic idiot, Harry thought in reply as he sat there calmly. He then watched Lockhart walk past grabbing all of the papers, rifling through them with a growing frown.

"My, my, I see quite a lot of you didn't recall anything from my books. Hmm, except a Miss Hermione Granger that is. In fact, she receives full marks. Well done, Miss Granger. Where is our lucky student, hmm?" His eyes bounced around the room before he fell on the witch raising her hand. "Excellent. See me after class, Miss Granger, and I'll tell you what you've won." He flashed a brilliant smile at her before winking and turning around.

"Excuse me, Professor?" Harry asked, raising his hand slowly. "When are we going to learn things that will actually do us some good?"

Lockhart stopped in mid-step before he turned around and narrowed his eyes on Harry. He forced a smile to his face again. "Itching to do magic, are we, Mister Snape? Have no fear. I was just getting to that." He then gave a short laugh before continuing towards the table where a covered cage rested. "Now, unfortunately with yesterday's postponement of classes, I couldn't bring in the freshly caught Cornish Pixies that I had managed to acquire. Have no fear, though, my dear students. Your professor wouldn't just end this brilliant class on such a dull note of course. So that's why I have brought in these." He chuckled loudly before he yanked off the cover.

"Bowtruckles?" Harry said with a frown. He and his father had run into one over the summer. They hadn't seemed too dangerous, then. In fact, if the young boy remembered correctly, they only became angered when they felt they had to defend themselves or their trees they guarded.

"Right you are, young man. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, where was I? Oh, yes." Lockhart chuckled. "I'll have you know that I once had to defend myself against a room much larger than this filled with them. Of course, they were no match for me." He grinned brightly, sticking his chest out even further. "Of course none of you have an Order of Merlin, First Class like I do. Nonetheless, let's see what you make of them, shall we?" He opened the cage door a moment later, releasing dozens of the sticklike creatures.

Terrified screams rang out as the students quickly dodged to avoid the wickedly fast creatures that to tossed sharp projectiles towards them. All except poor Neville, Harry noticed, dodged successfully. He watched his housemate get overrun with Bowtruckles who attacked the poor wizard.

"Professor, do something!" Harry shouted, swinging one of his books at a pair of Bowtruckles who had attempted to go after him.

"Of course, of course," Lockhart shouted before clearing his throat and drawing his wand. "Peski—" His wand went flying a moment later after being hit by one of the Bowtruckle's sticks. He instantly let out a sharp cry and dashed off, grabbing a portrait that one of the creatures was carving up.

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. That idiot! He glanced at Hermione who was casting numerous Freezing charms towards the creatures. He soon followed suit and gave Ron a look to do the same.

"What do you think of your brilliant Lockhart now, 'Mione?" Ron grumbled as he wrestled a Bowtruckle to get back his wand the creature stole.

"He's one of those professors who believes in the value of us experiencing dangers hands-on," she firmly stated. "It's a wonderful teaching method. Brilliant in fact."

"Brilliant? He doesn't have a clue what he's doing!" Harry argued.

"Rubbish." She shook her head, levitating a few of the docile creatures back into the cage. "It's just nerves. That's all." She drew in a slow breath as she levitated the final one inside a moment later. "I bet your father was the same way when he first started teaching, Harry. It's just nerves. They'd not give him an Order of Merlin if he didn't do all the amazing things he's done."

"Or maybe they would," Harry and Ron muttered.

~FKTF~

Thankfully, Charms class with the Ravenclaws was much calmer for the young Gryffindors. In fact, the moment Filius Flitwick, the small Charms professor, saw them, he winced. Not a single Gryffindor had been spared from the Bowtruckles' attack. They all sported bruises and cuts. Quite frankly, they seemed as if they had just come in from a brawl when they had stepped foot in his class. So, Professor Flitwick decided to cover minor healing charms, which the little lions were all thankful to learn—Harry and Neville most especially as they were the worst off.

So after every Gryffindor was healed—either by themselves or a helpful Ravenclaw, the Gryffindors made their way to the Greenhouses for Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. The two houses kept their distances from one another for the most part, the lions on one side of a large table and the badgers on the other. It was just natural for them.

"Excellent," Professor Sprout warmly announced as she stepped into the greenhouse. "Glad to see that we've all made it through Defense today. Now, today, we'll be repotting Mandrakes." She walked past the students, taking her place near the middle table. "Who can tell me about the properties of Mandrakes?" Her eyes glanced over the class before pausing on Hermione who had raised her hand. "Miss Granger?"

Harry groaned inwardly. This was going to be a long answer. He just knew it. Hermione always gave the longest, most in depth answers ever. She was brilliant, of course, but such a know-it-all.

"It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state," the Muggleborn witch stated.

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Hermione's hand collided with Harry's as their hands both shot up.

"Well, then, Mr. Potter." The Herbology professor seemed genuinely amazed that he had raised his hand. "Go ahead."

"When it's out of the soil, its cry can kill people," Harry quietly answered, recalling his father's words from over the summer.

"Another ten points to Gryffindor," announced Professor Sprout with a wide smile before she turned back to the rest of the class. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young." She motioned towards the trays of tiny plants. "Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," she directed a moment later, waiting as the students did as they were told. "When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right—earmuffs on." She glanced at everyone to ensure earmuffs were on before she grabbed a bit of a Mandrake and tugged it up out of the ground.

Harry grinned when he saw the muddied baby-like creature crying at the top of its lungs. They were as ugly as his father had said they were. He watched Professor Sprout quickly sprinkle some soil around the Mandrake, almost covering it completely with the rich earth a few moments later. All that could be seen now were the familiar leaves. When she gave them the thumbs up, they removed their earmuffs, holding them in their hands as they waited for her to continue her lecture.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet. However, they will knock you out for several hours. As I'm sure none of you want to miss your second day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up." She motioned to the trays again. "Four to a tray—there is a large supply of pots here—compost in sacks over there. Be careful of the Venomous Tentacula. It's teething." She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had inched sneakily over her shoulder.

Harry glanced at the curly-haired Hufflepuff boy who joined their table. However, he cut off any conversation that could have happened by placing his earmuffs on again. He couldn't wait to play with these Mandrake things. His dad had made them seem wicked the other day. Then again, his father always seemed to do that when it came to ingredients for his potions. When they received their signal—earmuffs all on—Harry grabbed his first Mandrake and pulled. And pulled. And pulled some more. He frowned. This had seemed so much easier when Professor Sprout did it earlier. Ten minutes later, he had planted his very first Mandrake . . . and hated it with a passion.

~FKTF~

While Harry learned how to change a rat into a goblet in Transfigurations, Snape found himself entering the staff room that suddenly hushed at his appearance. He frowned, striding through the room, however. He honestly didn't look that different this year. Healthier definitely and less like a vampire, but it wasn't as if he now looked like he could have belonged in Witch Weekly's edition of Most Eligible Bachelor, though.

"I take it by your non-ranting mood that you haven't heard about the second-years yet?"

Snape's eyes darted to Sinistra instantly. "What are you talking about?"

"Our esteemed colleague decided to release Bowtruckles to his class and forced them to defend themselves," she answered quietly, holding out a cup of tea.

"He did what!" Snape clenched his jaw. "Does he have any idea—"

"He does now." She sighed. "Albus gave me his classes for the rest of the day. I haven't seen Harry, but according to Filius, Harry and Mr. Longbottom took the brunt of it. Filius taught them minor healing charms today and instructed them to visit Madam Pomfrey after classes finish. Most of them have already went and seen her, though."

"Harry?" he asked with a frown.

"Stated that he'd come see you later." She gave him a faint smile. "I'd imagine it's because he trusts you more than the rest of us."

Snape nodded slowly. She was likely right about that. He shook his head, closing his eyes and sighing. By the way Sinistra seemed to be relaxed now as she stood beside him, he could tell that they were alone in the staff room.

"And here we thought it'd be a quiet year this year," she said with a half-smile.

"Oh, how I wish it was," he replied. "Thank you for informing me."

"Anytime, Severus. Unlike our cowardly colleagues, your temper doesn't bother me," she joked. "I should go finish my lesson plans before the fifth-years' class. Good night, Severus." She then left.

"What am I going to do with you, Harry?" Snape muttered, shaking his head.

~FKTF~

Later on, Snape looked his son over, inspecting him for all injuries the young boy could have sustained. He found numerous bruises, but the majority of Harry's injuries were healed. Of course, the boy complained of being worked like a dog with the repotting of the Mandrakes, which made Snape chuckle somewhat.

"Not as enjoyable as you thought?"

"Not at all, Dad. One of them took me twenty minutes to get it up out of the ground. For being small, they're hard to pull up."

Snape snorted. "I believe this is where Mr. Wood would state that it's helping you build muscles." He watched Harry roll his eyes.

"I don't need muscles, though. I'm a Seeker. We just need to be fast and coordinated."

"If you truly believe that, then Mr. Wood isn't teaching you adequately. You recall the bumping and frequent attempts to unseat you last year, correct?"

"I know, Dad." Harry sighed. "Lockhart's a moron." Snape gave him a look. "What? He is."

"Regardless of that, I expect you to treat him with respect. Furthermore, I'm quite disappointed in you. Did you think I'd not find out about your behavior earlier?"

"But—"

"Silence." Snape frowned. "Harry, regardless of my feelings concerning him, I do not wish you to show that level of disrespect to anyone. I do not wish you to turn into me, a bitter angry man. Do you understand?"

"Yeah." Harry glanced down at the floor.

"You have detention Saturday night with Professor Lockhart. Hopefully, you can smooth things over with him so he doesn't think you're the cocky arrogant child he believes you to be now."

"You're joking. You want me to kiss his arse like everyone else?"

"No. What I want is for you to apologize for your behavior. You have a good reputation currently, son. Do not lose it. It is hard to regain. Trust me."

"But I was trying to make you proud, show you that I could be like you, Dad."

"Son, you don't need to act like an arse to make me proud of you," Snape replied quietly. "You do that all on your own when you are yourself."

"All right." Harry sighed.

Snape watched his son silently. The boy sometimes made him wonder if he had what it took to be a father. If it wasn't injuries, it was the constant emotional abuse from the Dursleys deplorable treatment of Harry they tried to deal with together.

"What is it?" he asked, slowly joining his son when he noticed the boy's attention was focused entirely on the Prophet. Snape hadn't had a chance to read it yet unfortunately.

"There's some sort of contest thing."

"I'd imagine there are quite a few in there, Harry."

"Well, yeah, but this one is pretty wicked." The boy's head lower more as he skimmed the short blurb. "Potions Master of the Year award," Harry read. His green eyes then darted to Snape. "All you have to do is submit a paper. They'll nominate seven people and award it at some fancy dinner on Halloween. What do you think?"

"And why would I wish such a title?"

Harry shrugged. "Bragging rights? I mean, Mum doesn't have a title like that for Astronomy."

Snape chuckled, shaking his head. Perhaps his son did have some Slytherin tendencies in him after all. He glanced at the newspaper then.

"And if I'm nominated, then what?"

"Then we go to that dinner and watch you kick their butts, Dad."

"You'd be willing to go with me?"

"Definitely. And I'd be cheering the loudest too. They'll hear me all the way in Scotland," Harry proudly said. "No matter what, I'll go with you, Dad. Promise. Even if I have to skip classes to do it."

Snape snorted, hearing his son's playfulness. "Cheeky brat. All right. I'll submit one." He shook his head, laughing. How could he have become so lucky?