Harry knew the moment he saw Snape’s face the next morning that things had not gone according to plan. Dumbledore hasn’t agreed to send him away to the Weasleys. Harry wasn’t surprised. After all, he had practically begged the headmaster to let him stay with his friend all those weeks ago but that hadn’t happened. He would never change his mind. 

“Sit down.” Snape indicated a chair on the dinning table. He was sitting down with a newspaper open in front of him just like he was when Dumbledore came to visit them yesterday. But the atmosphere was different. The shutters had been drawn once more and the room was in semi darkness, only illuminated by a few dim yellow globes floating above the table. Harry took a seat and waited for Snape to break out the news he had already figured out. 

“I spoke with the headmaster last night but unfortunately, his mind still remains unchanged.” Harry felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks at the thought of last night. He had acted like a baby, crying out, begging for Snape to like him. Oh, Merlin, he wished he could forget it ever happened.

“That’s alright, Professor. I didn’t expect anything to really change.” Snape nodded, looking at Harry doubtfully as if trying to figure out what Harry was really feeling. “Really, professor, it’s alright. I acted a bit silly last night. Sure, you were mean but you did take care of me. You made sure that I was fed and you didn’t downright kick me out which is more than I expected. I’m sorry I talked to you that way, sir.” 

“It was rather understandable given the circumstances.” Snape folded the newspaper and placed it gingerly on the table. “It is quite clear that me giving you defense lessons is certainly not a functional idea.” 

“But where will I learn to defend myself, sir?” 

“For the time being, Professor Sprout will be your instructor. She is competent enough to teach you the basic skills that are needed at this early stage. After a certain time, I will take over your lessons once more.” Harry nodded, relieved at the unexpected news. Professor Sprout. Harry didn’t know her too well but he liked her. Most people did. She was one of those people with a friendly face and a quick smile that nobody could help liking. 

“You will still review what you have done with me at different intervals of time.” 

“That seems alright, sir.” Harry bit his lip, trying to decide whether to ask a question or not. Normally, he wouldn’t dare. Snape would have bitten his head off before he could even finish the sentence, but today he seemed unusually civil. Maybe after what happened last night, he would try to be nicer. Harry remembered how tired Snape had looked as he sat at his bedside last night. But still, this was Snape. It was better not to poke the sleeping dragon.

“Do go ahead.” Snape said, pouring himself a glass of water. 

“What?” 

“It is rather obvious you want to ask a question so I suggest you do so before your head explodes from over thinking.” 

“Erm… Okay. I just wanted to know why we’re going over so much information, sir.”

“It seems rather obvious. The objective is to keep the Dark Lord and his followers from blowing you off the face of the earth.” He cut into a sausage and took a minuscule bite. It was only then that Harry noticed the food on the table and his stomach grumbled in answer. He quickly piled his plate with sausages and eggs.

“I know I need Defense against the Dark Arts but why are we going over all the subjects? What do Potions and Herbology have anything to do with defense?”

“Most of the subjects that you learn in school are interrelated and can aid you should you be under attack. For example, if a death eater decides to poison you instead of openly attacking, you must know which antidote to use. If you are attacked by a non human entity such as a Griffin or a Sphinx, you must know how to defeat them, hence the importance of Care of Magical Creatures. The Dark Lord’s followers have countless weapons at their disposal, not only their wands.” Harry nodded thoughtfully, taking a bite of eggs. It made sense now. It was much better when his professor explained everything instead of jabbing commands in his direction. 

“Although why they bother to try to kill you is absolutely beyond me. If they simply wait long enough one of your dangerous stunts will get you killed before they lay a finger on you.” 

“Hey! I would never do anything to get myself killed.” Harry exclaimed indignantly.

“So the mountain troll you defeated, the baby dragon you delivered to Charlie Weasley and the three headed dog you faced were merely a figment of my imagination?”

“Okay, those things were a bit dangerous…” 

“Your idea of ‘a bit’ is certainly different from mine.” 

“But the point is I had no choice. I had to save Hermione from the troll and Hagrid from getting caught with an illegal dragon and I definitely had to stop Voldemort from getting the stone.” 

“No, you certainly did not have to do any of those things. You could have contacted a professor with this information or even a prefect. They would have helped. After all that is what they are there for. Did you think that we prowled the corridors merely to add to the decorations?”

“But we did speak to Professor McGonagall! We told her that Snape was after the stone but she didn’t listen.” Snape glanced up at him and raised a single eyebrow, the corner of his lips curving upwards faintly. 

“Erm… I … Ah… meant Quirrell. Professor Quirrell was after the stone. Professor McGonagall didn’t believe us so we had to try and get to the stone first.”

“What did your head of house say when you told her of your doubts?” 

“She told me that the stone was very well protected.” 

“Exactly. It was protected by Dumbledore himself and I don’t need to tell you that his defenses are nearly impossible to break through.” 

“But Quirrell did find the stone!” 

“Only because you were there and the stone came into your pocket. If you had stayed safely in bed like any other student worrying about your exams and nothing more, Quirrell would never have found the stone. He would have seen himself holding the stone but he never would have found it.”

“Oh.” Harry blinked. He had never thought of things that way. Snape was right. The stone had never been in any danger. So he had risked his own life not to mention Ron and Hermione’s simply because he didn’t want to listen to his professor. He had thought that three eleven year old students would have a better chance at defeating a dark wizard than an enter team of qualified wizards. Harry flushed and looked down at his breakfast, suddenly feeling very foolish. So if the stone had never been in any danger, why had Dumbledore awarded Gryffindor house so many points? Was the headmaster just humoring him? 

“I do admit that the fault does not lie entirely with you.” Snape continued. “Minerva’s idea of awarding points for challenging a troll to a duel is simply idiotic. If anyone from my house had done something so foolish, he would have been scrubbing cauldrons all weekend.” 

“I didn’t know you gave detentions to your own house. I always thought you let them get away with anything.” 

“Hardly. I care about my students and I take their safety very seriously. Granted, most of them know better than to head straight towards dangerous situations but if they ever do, I remind them very clearly that it is not to be done. Their life is too important to loose.” Harry nodded, feeling strangely jealous. It must be nice to have an adult watch over you, caring enough about you to stop you from getting hurt. Harry never had that. Part of the reason why he never went to an adult with his problems was because he didn’t trust them. He believed that if there was a problem he was the only one capable of solving it. What must it feel like to not worry about everything because there is a person, older and wiser than you, who will help you out? 

“Do they really do that, sir? If they are in trouble, do they come to you?” 

“Yes. I help them out in difficult situations. Children such as yourself should not worry about the fate of the world. That burden should fall into the hands of responsible adults who are capable of bearing the weight.” 

“Sir?” Harry asked quietly, distractedly twiddling his fork in his hands. 

“Yes?” 

“Do any of these students have problems like mine?” 

“If you mean do they have a Dark Lord and his entire army trying to kill them, then I am afraid the answer is no.” 

“No.” Harry bit his lip. He shouldn’t say what was on his mind. It made him seem needy and pathetic but Snape was being so reasonable. Harry had never been this relaxed with the man before. Besides, Harry had a strange feeling that he could trust Snape to always tell him the truth, no matter how unpleasant it could be. “I meant, have any of them come to you with family problems?” Snape nodded, slowly.

“There have been cases like yours. I have known many children with families that did not deserve them.” 

“And what happened to them?” 

“I made sure that they were adopted by caring families. Most of them went to become part of their best friend’s family.” Harry gulped, feeling a familiar sense of betrayal. Why didn’t Professor Dumbledore do that for him? That was all he had wanted.

“Professor, what if I had been sorted into your house? If I had come to you with my problem, would you have found a caring family for me?” Snape’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. A drop of grease dripped from the piece of sausage onto his plate and disappeared into the egg yolk. He slowly put the fork down and looked at Harry right in the eye. His usually cold black eyes looked almost sympathetic. Harry had never seen the man look at him this way before, with no dislike or loathing etched into his features. It was a nice change but it lasted only a moment. Snape shifted his gaze back onto the table, his eyes examining a minuscule chip on the dark wood. Harry jabbed his fork into his egg rather forcefully. 

“You are a special case. Your connection to the Dark Lord makes you of special interest to the headmaster. You are not merely a student but also a valuable asset to the war. Whatever happens to you will be directly dictated by Albus Dumbledore.” Harry nodded, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. There it was. Brutal honesty. Snape would never sugarcoat anything. He would give the truth as it was without softening the blow. Harry wondered whether that was why all the students hated him so much. The truth can hurt. 

Harry was not just a child, he was a weapon to be sharpened and prepared. He thought that Dumbledore might be different, he might see Harry as more than the scar marring his forehead, but lately he suspected that this was not the case. Why would Dumbledore send him here if not to toughen him up? He was preparing his weapon for battle. Snape was the only one with enough decency to admit it. 

The forks and knives clinked on the porcelain plate, the small sound ringing loudly in the silent house. Snape eyes were lowered on his plate giving Harry enough time to stare at his features. Was it really true? Did Snape’s students really come to him if something went wrong? Harry had always assumed that every student within the walls of Hogwarts was terrified of the man. There was even a rumor going around the school that he was a vampire. Ernest McCorley, a Hufflepuff in his year, refused to go to the dungeons without a clove of garlic hanging, large and ugly, around his neck. It was certainly a surprise to hear that a forth of the school didn’t run away at the mere sight of him. 

Harry watched Snape’s face, half covered in shadow. His pale skin looked faintly yellow in this dim light like old parchment stretched tight over a canvas of bone. His face held no expression as if there were no thoughts floating around in his mind and he was nothing but an automated machine with no feeling. He held his body stiff, his movements quiet and minimal. His high collared cloak and his long hair falling over the sides of his face, covered as much skin as humanly possible. A man shrouded in black. Even now, Harry felt a prickle of fear as he stared at Snape but something had changed. Despite his death like appearance, Harry had seen his mask fall. Snape didn’t seem to be that bad, not when he was being civil. 

“I am heading to your previous home this afternoon.” Snape’s baritone voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up at Harry’s face for the briefest instant before dropping his gaze. Harry felt a vague sense of disappointment. “Official papers ending their position as your legal guardians must still be signed.” 

“Oh. Okay then.” Harry blinked as the information dawned on him. Snape was going to Private Drive. The fact was strangely odd. They belonged to different worlds that were never supposed to meet. He wondered what Aunt Petunia might think when Snape stood at their doorsteps, glaring down at her and upsetting all the neighbors. 

“Is there anything that you wish me to retrieve from your old home.” Harry’s thoughts drifting back to his cupboard under the stairs. There was nothing there but broken toys and piles of smuggled food slowly rotting unseen under the floorboards. Harry had forgotten completely about them. He should have retrieved them when he packed his meager things and left for good. There were apples, bread, cakes and Harry recalled even a yogurt he had quickly stuffed in a corner the last night he had spent there, thinking of eating it in the morning. Surely it must have gone sour and moldy by now. Would the smell of the decaying food drift out of the cupboard and invade Aunt Petunia’s perfect home? A picture of warms crawling out of the apples hidden in different places of the house formed in Harry’s mind. He saw them wriggling along the polished floors he had spent hours cleaning, spots of black decay on the perfect white tiles. They would borrow under the large burgundy couch in front of the TV where he was never allowed to sit. They would…

“Potter?” Snape was looking at him expectantly. 

“Sorry, sir. I was lost in memories.” He nodded and looked back down at his food. 

“I seem to recall you still haven’t answered my question.” 

“No thank you, Professor. There’s nothing else I’d like from home. Not unless…” Harry remembered a stack of slim comic books sitting under his pillow, well concealed from sight. They were old and half broken, the bright colors of the pictures had lost their luster until they were all a dull grey. Still, he had loved flipping through them, their pictures giving him a brief respite from his hard life. He couldn’t really ask Snape to take them though, they weren’t his. At least not officially. He had slipped them out of Dudley’s big collection years ago. The oaf hadn’t even noticed they were missing.

“Unless what?” Snape raised an eyebrow, waiting for Harry to continue, but his voice was brisk, as if he was quickly loosing his patience with Harry’s retarded half answers. 

“Nothing. There were a few comic books under my pillow and I used to love them. I read them every chance I got.” 

“Comic books?” Snape raised an eyebrow, looking at him with an almost amused expression. Of course, with him, it was impossible to tell for sure. 

“Yeah. They’re this sort of Muggle version of…”

“I know perfectly well what a comic book is. I was merely expressing my astonishment at anyone choosing to read such utter nonsense.” 

“Hey, I thought you were starting to be nice!” Harry exclaimed before he had a chance to stop himself.

“I was merely expressing an opinion, Potter.” Snape shook his head slightly. “Merlin help me from oversensitive Gryffindors!” 

“I’m not oversensitive.” Snape choose to ignore Harry’s muttered words. 

“I shall retrieve these comic books for you this afternoon.” 

“But you can’t. They aren’t really mine. They’re just borrowed.” Harry added hastily, thinking that the truth wouldn’t sit well with Snape. 

“Then might I ask, what is the point of mentioning them?” 

“Its just something that popped into my mind.” Harry shrugged, returning his focus back on his eggs. For a moment, they both returned to finishing their breakfast in silence, giving Harry enough time to mull over his feelings about Dumbledore. He had lived for the last ten years in a cupboard surrounded by people who hated him and Dumbledore was the one who put him there. Did he really not know how bad it was for him or did he just not care? Maybe Dumbledore even approved of how the Dursleys treated him. Maybe he thought that pain and loneliness and fear would make him stronger, mold him into a warrior. Maybe he wanted Harry to be starved and unwanted. Maybe he wanted Snape to be cruel to him and… 

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep unsteady breath. The food sat heavy and greasy in his stomach. No. He told himself firmly. I must be wrong. Dumbledore cannot be so unfeeling. He cares at least a little bit. He must!

“Maybe Professor Dumbledore has a reason for sending me here.” Harry voiced his thoughts aloud hoping for some reassurance. “Maybe he just wants us to get along.”

“Perhaps.” Snape conceded, his brow furrowing lightly. “The headmaster is known to have grand plans, plans that none but him can understand.” Well. That could be taken for reassurance. 

“Tell me about it. He’s always so cryptic. I mean, half the things that come out of his mouth make no sense to me at all.” The corners of Snape’s lips twitched unexpectedly.

“I rather think that no one can make sense of his words simply because they have no meaning.” Harry was surprised at the affectionate note in Snape’s voice. Despite his words, Snape was fond of Dumbledore. Harry couldn’t explain why but that made him feel so much better. 

“But they have to mean something! He’s the most powerful wizard in the world. Isn’t everything that comes out of his mouth supposed to be really deep and meaningful?” 

“Hardly. That is merely what he wants everybody to believe. He speaks in riddles to impress people and not because they have any special meaning. I suspect that they are nothing but rubbish.” There it was again. The twitching at the corner of Snape’s lips as if he was trying to suppress a smile. 

“How long have you been working for Professor Dumbledore?” Harry asked. It was only a harmless question, an attempt to understand the powerful wizard but it had been the wrong thing to say. Snape’s eyes snapped up to his face and Harry could see a brief flash of anger. 

“And what reason would you have to ask such a question, Potter?” 

“No reason.” Harry backtracked immediately, surprised by the sudden change of tone. Snape called him Potter again. That really can’t be good.

“Did you wish to interrogate me on my loyalties?” 

“What? No!” Harry’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t even been thinking of that. “It’s just that you seem to like Dumbledore and I was curious to know how close the two of you are. I mean, you don’t really get along with most people.” Well, that really was a dumb thing to say. Harry flushed and went on talking, trying to cover his blunder. 

“I didn’t mean that you aren’t likable or anything. I’m sure you’re a very likable person with lots of friends.” Snape raised a single eyebrow and sat back on his chair, watching Harry. 

“Not that it’s bad to not have any friends!” Harry continued, feeling more like a fool every minute. “Being a lone wolf is cool too.” 

“Are you implying that I have no friends?” 

“No!” Harry exclaimed “I’m sure you have a great social life.” 

“Ah.” Snape crossed his arms across his chest. “So in your bountiful wisdom, you believe I spend my weekends at a local pub. Perhaps getting drunk and singing at the top of my lungs.” 

“Of course not! I wouldn’t just…” The left corner of Snape’s lips lifted in a faint semblance of a smile. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” 

“Hardly. I never laugh.” He replied returning to his breakfast. Harry smiled and poured himself some pumpkin juice. Yes. Snape really wasn’t that bad. 

“The answer was eleven years.” 

“What?” Harry blinked, having already forgotten his previous question.

“I have been employed by the headmaster for eleven years.” 

“Oh.” That was a really long time. Harry couldn’t understand what it felt like to know someone for that long. He was beginning to get curious. Dumbledore had always been such a mystery, a man of wisdom who was so far above everybody else. Harry had felt a connection to him at the end of last year but after he was sent to live here, that connection had quickly dissolved. He no longer considered Dumbledore to be the perfect hero but that didn’t prevent Harry from wanting to know more about him. Was he the cold hearted strategist or the kind, caring grandfather? 

“Are the two of you friends?”

“Of a sort.” Snape replied, his blank mask drawn over his face once more. Harry frowned, sensing that something was not quite right. Before, he had heard a note of fondness in his tone when he was speaking of Dumbledore but maybe he was mistaken. At breakfast, Dumbledore had been oddly sharp with his potion master. 

“Don’t you guys get along?” Snape spared Harry a brief glance. For a moment he was silent, his long pale finger trailing along the edge of his cup. Harry bit his lip, feeling a brief stab of guilt. He really shouldn’t have brought it up. Obviously it was a personal matter and he should know better than to push. Snape was his teacher and he deserved respect. Harry mustn’t forget that simple fact. He opened his lips to apologize but Snape started talking. 

“We often have differences of opinion and angry words are exchanged.” Snape spoke slowly, weighing every word. “And yet we are close. Not precisely a friend since the age difference is too great to permit such familiarity but more like a mentor. I know more of him than most.” Harry shouldn’t press. He really shouldn’t. Snape was clearly not comfortable talking about Dumbledore and he should just let the matter drop. But he couldn’t. He had to know more, he had to know the truth about the headmaster and who better to ask than Snape. 

“What is he like, sir? Does he…?” How can Harry ask this question? “Is he a good person?” That wasn’t the right question. Harry wanted to know whether Dumbledore actually cared for him or whether he was just another pawn in the great battle. He wanted to know whether he could trust Dumbledore but he just couldn’t ask that directly. Besides he didn’t trust Snape yet either, not fully. 

“Yes, he is a good person. He is a better person than almost everyone I have met and yet he has a great burden to bare. He is faced everyday with difficult decisions and his choices can sometimes seem…” Snape paused, searching for the right word. “cruel.” Harry thought he saw a flash of pain in Snape’s black eyes, as if he knew all too well how cruel the headmaster could be. 

“He has millions of people depending on him.” Snape continued, his eyes glued onto the clear water sitting still in his tall glass. He was staring at the distorted reflection on its smooth surface. “He is, after all, the leader who fights against the forces of the Dark Lord. He does not like it. In fact, he hates it but he has to make certain… sacrifices. He has to sacrifice the well being of a few for the good of the many. It might seem wrong but it is, nonetheless, necessary.” Snape’s words could have referred to Harry but somehow, he doubted it. Snape was speaking of himself. 

“Was that what he did to you?” Harry asked, watching him closely. Snape looked up slowly, their eyes meeting. His expression was a careful blank, each face muscle under tight control. 

“What?” 

“Did Professor Dumbledore sacrifice your well being for the good of the many?” For a split second, Snape’s mask crumpled and Harry saw a glimpse of complete surprise in his face. Surprise and fear. “Did he betray your trust in him and left you feeling like you were worthless in his eyes?”

“I do not know what you are insinuating, Potter.” Snape was still, his voice even, his expression blank. 

“You do know what I’m talking about, you just don’t want to admit it.” 

“I have work to do. Professor Sprout will be here in…” 

“Did he hurt you and pretend it was all for the greater good?” Snape gasped, his expression turning into sudden fury. He stood up abruptly, his chair scrapping along the floor. Damn it. Harry should not have said that. He really should not have said that. Snape’s shadow loomed, long and wide completely covering Harry’s slender frame. Snape didn’t just look angry, he looked dangerous.

“I… I’m…” The words died on his tongue as he watched Snape’s eyes blazing with fury and hate. His long slender fingers were twitching as if he wished to close them around Harry’s neck and squeeze every drop of life out of him. 


“Potter.” Snape hissed, injecting the word with venom. “You are an insolent…” He snapped his mouth shut so violently, his teeth knocked together. Without another word Snape spun around and strode out of the room, almost running away from Harry. 

__________ 

Hot water poured out of the faucet and splashed onto Harry’s fingers. He jumped backwards with a sudden yelp. He should pay more attention to what he was doing instead of obsessing over Snape. He turned on the cold water tap and waited for the temperature to even out. Steam still rose from the water swirling down the drain so he waited, tapping his foot on the floor impatiently. He needed to do something. He needed to make himself stop thinking.

He had come downstairs wanting to find something to clean, hoping to find some way to make up for his words at breakfast. When he found the dirty dishes sitting in the kitchen he had immediately started scrubbing. A habit he had acquired at the Dursleys. He felt like an idiot. Snape had been nothing but nice to him and he had ruined everything. The next time he saw his professor, he would apologize. He would tell Snape what an idiot he had been and that he would never ever dig into his professor’s personal life again. 

Why had he pressed the man? He saw that Snape was getting angry but he had still questioned him, almost goading him to respond. Why? Harry scrubbed the smooth porcelain surface of the plate furiously, not noticing that it was already clean. 

“Potter? Why are you doing the dishes?” Snape stood at the doorway to the kitchen with his hands crossed in front of his chest. Harry turned around and looked at him with hands covered in soap bubbles. He seemed his normal impassive self, all traces of the earlier anger forgotten.

“Professor Snape I’m really…” Snape shook his head sharply, looking him straight in the eye. He was asking Harry to just drop the matter, to forget it had ever happened. Harry was confused but he let it go. He was more than happy to obey his wish. “I thought I’d lend a hand clearing up.” He finished lamely. 

Snape lifted his wand and almost lazily flicked it at the dishes. Immediately the kitchen was brought to life. Water from the tap gushed out at full speed. The plate in Harry’s hand whisked out of his fingers and flew under the flow of water. The bottle of soap slipped out of his left hand and started pouring itself over the other dirty dishes. A strap of cloth sailed out of the hook on the wall and started drying the washed glasses. 

“Oh! I forgot about magic.” A cupboard above his head flew open and the glasses sailed gracefully in the air and settled down neatly into their proper places.

“Unless you are willing to give yourself a detention, leave the cleaning to magic. It is a privilege of being a wizard, after all.” Harry smiled and rinsed his hands off. Snape wasn’t angry anymore. He hadn’t ruined everything by his careless words. That was all that mattered. 

“I keep everything neat and clean at all times. Speaking of which, why are you still wearing those rags. Is it one of those youth fashions that I will never comprehend?”

“No, sir.” Harry looked at his hands, unwilling to look his professor in the eye. “Its just that… my only cloths are all like the ones I’m wearing. I have school uniforms but it’s odd wearing them when I’m at home.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “They’re just Dudley’s hand me downs. The Dursleys didn’t really want to buy me anything new.” Silence greeted his sentence. Harry cleared his throat awkwardly as he patted his hands dry. He still couldn’t look his professor in the eye. He felt so pathetic. Why hadn’t he bought normal clothes at Diagon Alley? He had a entire vault full of gold but he was still wearing rags? If he had half a brain, he would have bought some decent clothes and avoided this awkward moment. 

“Then I shall have to arrange a day to escort you to Diagon Alley.” Harry nodded, glad Snape hadn’t pressed the issue. Whenever Hermione heard of the way the Dursleys had treated him, she always fussed and made a big deal, her eyes watering with pity. Harry knew that his friend cared for him and meant well but the pity still stung, making him want to run out the door and hide under the safety of the bed. 

“When do you wish to make the trip?” Snape asked.

“Anytime’s fine. I never have anything to do so I’m literally always free.” 

“Sometime next Thursday is the only option for me. Thursday perhaps.” 

“That’s fine.”

“Meanwhile, there might be a chance that I will make a brief visit to Diagon Alley this afternoon. Is there anything you want me to buy for you?” Snape was being extra helpful today. Asking to retrieve his things from the Dursleys, wanting to buy stuff for him at Diagon Alley. Harry wondered whether Snape pitied him too. Was that why he had changed so much this morning. Was he indulging the poor orphan child who couldn’t do anything right. Harry shook his head, he was having a great day so far, better than he had in weeks. He would not ruin it with these gloomy thoughts.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind some paint. Red and gold would do nicely.” Harry stated, thinking of an idea he had when he woke up this morning. It was something that would help keep all those gloomy thoughts at bay, making him remember the great things of his life. He needed that, especially since he had a habit of falling into melancholia at the slightest notice. “I’ll give you the key to my vault.” 

“Why?” Snape snapped. Harry blinked, not understanding the Professor’s sudden change of tone. He seemed angry when only moment ago he had been completely normal. At least, normal for him.

“So you can get the money…” 

“That is not what I meant.” Snape looked towards the window. His eyes were focused on a small chink in the shutters. They weren’t fully closed. There was a line of light right at the center as if sunlight was trying its best to slip through that minuscule opening. “Why would you want red and gold paint, Potter?” 

“I… I just thought.” Harry stuttered, surprised at Snape’ hardened voice. “I wanted to draw something and pin it to the wall.”

“What did you want to draw?” Snape’s lips had thinned and his eyes were still focused on the chink of light, avoiding Harry’s face. What had gone wrong?

“I thought maybe a few red and gold lions…” Harry saw Snape’s chest heave slightly as he took a deep breathe, as if attempting to calm himself down. From what? Harry hadn’t said anything offensive. At least, he didn’t think so. “Or maybe not. If it’s not okay with you I can just....” 

“No, Potter.” Snape stated. His voice had returned back to his normal uneven tone but Harry had the feeling he was trying very hard to keep it that way. He could sense the anger boiling underneath the still surface. 

“Why should it not be okay with me? You are, after all, a Gryffindor through and through. Why should you not have lions painted all around your room?” Snape stated bitterly.

“If it’s not okay with you, I don’t have to…” 

“I am completely indifferent to your choice of decorations.” He certainly didn’t seem indifferent. Harry wished he knew what was going on inside that man’s head. What had angered him so suddenly? Was he still angry at what happened at breakfast. 

“Professor, I’m sorry about…” 

“Come along, Potter. Professor Sprout will be here shortly for your morning lessons.” 

What the heck had just happened? Harry went over the previous conversation in his mind, wishing he hadn’t brought up the paint. Was Snape angry with him again or had he been angry all along underneath that guarded exterior? Was he going to return to insulting him every time they met? Harry felt his eyes watering, as he saw his hopes shattered in front of him once again. No. He was just being silly and oversensitive. Snape was being prickly but that was only normal. A man can’t change his nature. That did not mean that he and Snape wouldn’t be able to get along. Harry just had to be extra careful around him next time and not take his words too much to heart. 

“Come along, Potter.” Snape called from up ahead and Harry increased his pace. Harry ran to catch up as the Professor strode down the corridor. The man walked fast, if you could even call that walking. His feet were covered by his billowing robes and he didn’t make a single sound, he seemed to glide in the air like a ghost at Hogwarts castle and Harry bet that his skin was just as cold. They walked for more than ten minutes in complete silence, Snape rushing on ahead while Harry did his best to not lag behind.

This house was enormous. From the outside it looked tall and imposing, casting its shadow over the garden but only when you passed through its endless hallways did you realize how big the house actually was. Harry wondered whether there was magic involved. Were the corridors extended by some mysterious branch of magic? Did they even have an end? Harry didn’t know. One of the reasons why he had stayed in his room all those weeks was because he didn’t fancy getting lost through the myriad of hallways that merged one into the other. His room was located right next to the staircase that brought him downstairs to the kitchen. The only two rooms he knew how to find. 

He had tried to walk down the corridor of his room but he was soon met with a crossroad of sorts where three other hallways branched out. Harry had taken the left one but he soon met with a sharp turn followed by a dead end. He had then returned to the crossroad and taken the middle one but he had met another place where this time four hallways met, each leading to different unknown sections of the house. Harry had turned back to his room immediately while he could still find it. He hadn’t been anywhere else since.

Now they were moving along what appeared to be a straight hallway with nothing else branching out of it. They had been walking for about fifteen minutes but still there was no end in sight. Yellow globes of dim light were attached to the walls on either side and they bobbed up and down, shifting their shadows along the stone floor. There were no carpets, no wall hangings, no paintings or decorations of any sort, only doors. Hundreds of plain black doors crammed left and right. 

Harry wondered once again what each of them concealed. Perhaps, he should try exploring again. This corridor went straight ahead with no chance of anyone loosing his way. Still, there was something unsettling about these lines of doors. They gave the impression that something dark and unpleasant was lurking behind them, watching his every move. Before, when he looked at those doors he imagined Snape waiting behind them, ready to attack. Now that he wasn’t terrified of Snape jumping on him and biting his neck, his imagination conjured up even worse images. Images of monsters, wolves, murderers. 

Harry froze dead in his tracks. Something moved, he had felt it. He had felt something living and breathing brush past him. His breath caught in his throat. He looked all around him but there was no one else there, only him and Snape, striding on ahead. The corridor was dark and empty, the globes of light shimmered on the stone walls, illuminating the row of doors pressed nearly one against the other. Maybe he had just imagined it. No. He heard it again. An odd repetitive sound, something he had definitely heard before but couldn’t exactly place. It was coming from behind the door to his left. Harry shivered, almost expecting it to burst open and reveal a dark creature lurking behind it. Harry shook his head. He was being ridiculous. There was no one else here. He was acting like a scared little kid. There was nothing to fear.

The door’s handle was a smooth silver that glimmered in the soft light. There was no one behind that door. In fact, Harry could open it right now and see for himself. There was nothing there. He was imagining things. If he just pushed the door open a crack, he would know but Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. The images of the blood thirsty wolves still fresh in his mind. There, he heard it again. That weird soft sound like…

“Potter? Trying to get out of our lessons, are we?” Snape had turned back and was now standing only a few paces in front of him.

“Its just that… I thought I heard something.” 

“Daydreaming again, Potter? I thought that was a privilege you reserved for my potion lessons. Apparently, avoiding responsibilities is a frequent occurrence for you.” Snape’s voice was dripping with bitter sarcasm. Harry could here the dislike creeping into his voice again. He gulped, wondering why it hurt him so much. It looks like Snape’s anger had gotten worse. He was back to his former self again. 

“I’m not daydreaming! I heard something moving in there.”

“I assure you that you and I are the sole occupants of this house. Now stop wasting my valuable time and come along, Professor Sprout is waiting.” 

“But I did hear something.” Harry insisted. He didn’t know why he was being so stubborn, a moment ago he had been trying to convince himself he was imagining things. Maybe it was because of Snape’s tone of voice. Any semblance of calm and control had vanished. The anger and dislike poured out of his words openly. He was no longer even trying. Something didn’t sit quite right. What had angered him this time? 

“Are you accusing me of lying, Potter?” Snape’s voice had gone dangerously quiet. Harry thought it was best not to mention that as a double spy, he lied all the time. 

“It’s just that… “ 

“You thought you heard something. I heard you the first time, Potter. What is it that frightens you so? Is it the dark? Are you afraid of it? Or is it your own shadow you seem to fear?” 

“I’m not afraid of anything!” 

“Then why are you so unnerved by your own imagination, like a little kid. Is it no wonder I find you worthless.” Harry’s hands closed into fists. What is wrong with this man? One moment he was a perfectly normal person and the next he was hissing down Harry’s throat for no particular reason. 

“What would you like me to do, Potter? Would you like me to open that door and show you that there is nothing to fear? Do you wish me to sooth your infantile fears?” 

“I’m not a little kid and I told you I’m not afraid!” Snape’s hand gripped the silver handle but it didn’t turn. Instead, he watched Harry, a familiar sneer of disgust on his face. 

“Well, then. I’ll open this door and show you an empty room. I’ll show you that you’re nothing but a silly incompetent…” 

“Fine! Don’t open the damn thing. I couldn’t care less.” Harry turned around and literally ran down the corridor. Stupid, stupid Snape and his stupid mood swings. Just when Harry thought they could get along, just when he was beginning to like the man, he starts insulting him again. What the hell was Snape’s problem? Just because he heard a noise, doesn’t mean that he’s silly. This creepy house full of shadows and unending corridors would make anyone see monsters everywhere! Just because the house and the gardens and the vampire like figure prowling the corridors made him nervous, it didn’t mean that he was childish! 

Harry ran right into the large door at the end of the corridor. His nose smacked painfully on the wooden boards and he let out an angry groan. It hurt like hell. Harry could feel something wet sliding down his chin. Great, now he was bleeding. Just what he needed. He hadn’t seen the door at all and who would have? There’s no ruddy light! Would it kill Snape to just brighten those infuriating yellow globes. All it would take was a single flick of his wand but the man didn’t want to do it. And Harry was the lazy one! 

He felt a cold hand gripping his shoulder. He turned around to face Snape with a glare already fixed in place. A drop of blood dripped over his chin and fell onto his shirt, adding yet another stain to its collection. Snape drew his wand and pointed it right in front of his face. Harry’s glare faltered as he prepared to run as fast as his thin legs could carry him. 

“I’m merely going to heal your nose.” 

“No thanks. I don’t want help from you. I wouldn’t want to be silly.” Harry wondered where his instinct of self preservation had gone. Maybe it had never existed in the first place.

“Episky.” There was an odd crack and his pain disappeared. Another flick of Snape’s wand and he could feel the wet on his skin drying up, even the new stain on his shirt vanished. Snape really had healed him. There he was being nice again. Harry really really did not understand this man. He was getting a headache from trying to keep up with his mood swings! First he was friendly, asking him if he needed help, then he was angry over a single mention of a lion. Next he calls him worthless and silly and now he was healing his nose. Where the hell was the logic in all that? He tried to search Snape expression for any trace of his earlier anger but the faint light threw his face completely into shadow.

“You really should pay closer attention to your surroundings.” Snape’s tone had returned to neutral again. No trace of the former anger remained almost as if that little exchange had never happened. Well, it had. Harry didn’t like being called silly or worthless. The man had called him worthless again and he had done nothing wrong. 

“I was just trying to get away from you!” Snape didn’t respond, he merely opened the door and made a gesture for Harry to walk inside. Feeling more confused than ever, he walked into the living room, pleasantly surprised when he saw the large orange flames throwing the room into light. The room was completely empty. It looks like Professor Sprout was not here yet. Harry walked over to the one chair in the room that looked remotely comfortable and sat down heavily. He purposefully didn’t look at Snape. He was done trying to figure the man out! How could he try and get along with Snape if he didn’t know what would set him off? The man was a time bomb waiting to explode any second.

Silence stretched between them with neither of them willing to talk. Harry sensed Snape standing there behind him without moving a single muscle. Harry crossed his legs beneath him and stared at the flames, willing them to turn green. In a few moments, Professor Sprout would be here. She would be friendly and normal and predictably. The complete opposite of Snape and that was just what Harry needed right now. He was just so damn tired of trying to understand the infuriating man! 

Almost on cue, the flames rose up with a hiss, their color shifting from bright orange to deep green. There was a loud puff and ash came shooting out from the chimney, covering Harry from head to toe with the grey dust. He made a mental note to stand further away from the fireplace next time they were expecting company. 


A large indistinct black shape was flickering in between the flames, its contours coming in and out of focus. A split second later, the shape took color and form, morphing into his Herbology professor. There was a large honest smile already illuminating her face and Harry felt a wash of relief. That was a sight he hasn’t seen for too long. She stepped out of the fireplace but the flames were still green. Someone else was coming. Two smaller forms materialized in the flames, a bushy head and a freckled face coming into focus. Harry felt a smile crack open his face as his best friends jumped out of the fireplace and ran over to give him a bone breaking hug.

__________ 

“Aryna!” Severus hissed, closing the door firmly behind him. With several flicks of his wand, he placed the strongest locking and silencing charms on the door. He looked around the empty room, searching for any sign of movement. He stared at the small child-sized bed in the center, his eyes piercing every inch of the faded white bedsheets but it was empty. There was no other furniture in the room but a old trunk whose iron fastenings were covered with rust. 



“Aryna, show yourself!” There was a single small window above the bed, it was set in a alcove dug into the wall. Long iron bars prevented anyone from getting near it, like the windows of a prison cell. One of the thin bars seemed to move. A shape coiled around the iron bar slithered over the metal surface and sank onto the bed. It was a five foot long snake. Its body was a polished black with thin yellow horizontal stripes standing out on its dark body. 

“Mind your tone, Severussss.” She hissed angrily, lifting her head up to look him in the eye. A red forked tongue flicked out of her mouth. “I am not your slave. No, indeed I am not. Don’t you dare give me orderssss!”

“Aryna, what do you suppose you are doing here?” Severus snapped ignoring her annoyed tone. It was never a good idea. She could sulk for weeks and become increasingly bothersome if she was angered too much but right now, Severus didn’t care. He was angry too. Angry and scared. “I asked you quite plainly to remain in the dungeons, not slither around the house right under the boy’s nose!” She hissed loudly.

“Fool! I go where I pleasssse. I am not your prisoner!” 

“I was under the impression that we are friends.” Snape crossed his arms over his chest, trying to stop them from trembling. God, he was such a mess. 

“We are! Even if you can be annoying and stupid sometimessss.” 

“Then why did you let yourself be exposed to that boy! Do you not comprehend what will happen should he find out about you? I did not believe you to be this thick!” She was silent. Severus knew that he had gone too far this time. He sighed deeply and tried to calm himself down, he had enough problems already without her being angry with him as well. 

“I apologize. I should not have said that and I certainly did not mean it. It is just that…” He paused trying to control the frantic beating of his heart. “Remember the headmaster’s reaction when he learned that I am a parcelmouth. Remember his horror and disgust as he realized that the Dark Lord and I share this uncanny similarity.” 

“It’s not uncanny! How elsssse would we understand each other?” Aryna interjected, her tone slightly softened. She was appeased but not entirely so.

“You can call it what you want but it does not change the fact that it unsettled the headmaster. I have no doubt that if he did not desperately need my information, he would have stopped supporting me then and there. I promised him that I would never again use my ability. I cannot keep that promise. I never meant to, for how could I get rid of you? Professor Dumbledore can never find out about you, Ari. He would be so displeased.” The tremor in his hands increased as he remembered the last time his mentor was displeased. It had been painful. Too painful. The Dark Lord’s anger was easier to bare than his. What was the Cruciatus curse compared to the punishments his headmaster could inflict on him? There was no physical pain but it still hurt. Dumbledore knew exactly how to bend him, to make Severus’s mind obedient to his will alone. Oh God, he cannot go through that again. 

Aryna slithered to the edge of the bed and leaned her head towards him. On instinct, Severus extended his hand forward, allowing her to curl around his fingers and slither up his arm. She positioned herself around his neck and leaned her small head on his cheek. Her scales were smooth and cold on his skin but it was still a great comfort. Her anger had disappeared. 

“Don’t worry, ssssily human. The boy will not find out. I will be much more careful next time. Yes, I will. Trusssst me.” She put out her long tongue and flicked it on the bridge of his nose. Severus lifted his index finger and stoked her head affectionately. He was slowly resuming control of his own body. He fixed the blank expression on his face and forced his fingers to stop trembling. He needed to get a hold of himself. He had always prided himself on his control but lately, his words and actions were more dictated by emotion than logic. Three times already he had lost control in front of the boy. He had tried hard but the anger and hate still resurfaced, erupting in sudden flashes until he lashed out at the child. It was a pity. This morning, he had even enjoyed himself, speaking so plainly without the need to overanalyze everything. At first he thought that they might get along, but he kept on seeing James Potter in every angle of his face. The more he looked at that face, the more he saw the father lurking underneath. 

Still, there was an improved. It wasn’t much but it was something. He had left the child angry, confused, and probably not wanting anything to do with him anymore. Severus had to talk to him, to apologize, to make him understand. But how? He was not good at these things. 

“Come on. Lets go out. I want to tasssste the fresh air again. Oh, yessss. It has been a long time. Too long.” Severus nodded and headed out, Aryna curled up comfortably in his robe pocket. Thanks to Professor Sprout he was having a Potter free day and he intended to take full advantage of it.