A World Of Grey Clouds by Livia Ethelind

”It's alright, baby. Everything is going to be fine. I'm right here,” sobbed the woman through the grey clouds. “Everything will be over soon.” Harry knew the words were meant to be reassuring but the sound of her own screaming and crying just grew louder as the woman's trembling voice whispered above her. The grey mist whirled around her in patterns that were so nauseating that Harry wasn't sure whether the clouds were there or her vision was somehow blurred into a grey mess. Her screaming eventually transformed into muffled voices that seemed to originate from everywhere and nowhere in particular at the same time. “Come on! I know you can do it, son! Say daddy!” a man's voice said with strained joy. “No, Padfoot, I swear he did it last night! Really! Oh, shut up!” She heard laughter which cut through everything else. At first it was joyous then it seemed to change into mockery. But was it even laughter anymore? No, someone was crying. Harry wanted to reach out for them but she couldn't see through the clouds. The sound of glass shattering in the distance reached her ears. “Never! Why can't you understand! Why can't you believe? I'm not asking you to trust – I'm asking you to hope!” cried a woman. Something was whistling in the background. “Hello, Harry. How you have grown! You'll be taller than Sirius! James, tell your boyfriend to stop that, will you? Ow! Peter, back me up here! I'm sorry, Harry, you'll grow up with the world's most infantile dad! I'm kidding, James!” The whistling was getting unbearably loud. Why wasn't it stopping? “Stand aside.” She was cold, oh so cold. The whistling was burrowing into her ears. It wasn't whistling. The clouds flashed green as a wand penetrated them. It was screaming. Someone was screaming, but who? “Avada...”

When Harry woke up, she found herself in the complete darkness of her room.

Harry was standing in front of the wardrobe staring at the contents and shivering slightly from the coldness of the room. Not five minutes ago she had been woken up by Snape knocking on her door and announcing that breakfast would be served in 20 minutes. It had been a rough night. Harry remembered waking up at odd hours but she couldn't really remember why. She was tired and cold. She was wearing her new white pajamas that had been in the mountain of clothes but she really wished she had thought to wear socks to bed. The dungeon floor was almost icy.

Choices. She had been begging for them. They were already beginning to annoy her. Not only did she have the whole issue of picking her name hanging over her head – Harry now found she had a much greater crisis to overcome. What on earth was she going to wear?
Most of the things in her wardrobe were black, grey or white but there were still several shirts in somewhat bright colors. She was running out of time. She still needed to shower and she was pretty sure showing up a second later than Snape requested would be starting the day on the wrong foot. In the end Harry closed her eyes, sighed and reached out and grabbed something, pulling it off the shelf along with anything lying on top. It was a pair of dark jeans. Harry repeated the procedure and ended up with a dark blue T-shirt with something in Latin written on it in fancy white letters. She had picked this one herself at the store. She had no idea what it meant but she liked the look of it. Audentes Fortuna Iuvat. She picked a pair of socks and some underwear before shoving the pile of clothes that had fallen out back into the wardrobe. She had to hurry.

Harry took the quickest shower in the history of showers and got dressed equally as quickly before she entered the kitchen. Snape was sitting at the table, hidden behind a copy of the Daily Prophet. She didn't know whether she should just sit down or announce her presence but in the end settled on quietly saying: ”Good morning, professor.”

“Sit down. Eat,” said Snape from somewhere behind the paper. Harry briefly wondered whether she was still in trouble for yesterday when she reminded herself that this was Snape and what was she expecting? Politeness? She sat down at the table which was already set and took two pieces of toast and a banana. She had begun putting raspberry jam on one piece of toast as quietly as she could when Snape suddenly folded the paper, slammed in into the table top and sighed which caused her to jump slightly. It took Harry a moment to notice that Snape wasn't wearing his usual teaching robes today. Instead he was just wearing his frock coat and the robe was draped over the back of the chair he was sitting on.

“I have received a letter from the Headmaster,” said Snape gravely.

Harry didn't reply. She had nothing to say to that. It could mean anything. She held her breath and waited. Snape must have sensed her uncertainty because he continued:

“He is of course still requesting to see you but that is not something we need to worry about as of yet. He has informed me that he will be informing the remaining Heads of Houses of the situation later today.”

“Is he going to tell them everything?” inquired Harry.

“I do not know. I will be meeting with him beforehand to hear his plans. This means you will remain here unsupervised. Can I trust you to behave on your own and entertain yourself? Otherwise we might easily find you some task to complete.”

“No! No, I'm just going to read,” replied Harry, eager to have some time to herself.

“Something sensible and educational I gather?” said Snape with more than a little sarcasm.

“I'm not making any promises,” mumbled Harry into her toast which earned her a glare.

“Before I forget, professor McGonagall invited herself to tea this afternoon,” said Snape with absolutely no enthusiasm as he pushed the vial of nutrient potion closer to Harry's plate.

Harry tossed the book down into the other end of the bed. She was bored. Unbelievably bored. She'd read one of her borrowed Quidditch books already although not thoroughly. She opened the second one and skimmed the first page. It was nice being alone but she was still pretty much trapped in the dungeon. The books were exciting enough but she could bare to keep reading before they only made her long for her broom and the skies. Last year she had felt so free at Hogwarts. Sure, there were rules and classes to attend but in comparison with Privet Drive she could do nearly whatever she pleased. At first it was scary and it had taken her quite a while to relax into it but by the end of the year she had found friends and had indeed begun to think of Hogwarts as her home. This was so much different. Now she didn't know how to feel. It was still better than the alternative but Harry despised cages in whatever form they came. She wondered where Hedwig was. Was she flying free or was she still waiting for her in Surrey? She found she missed the owl tremendously. In the few weeks she had been back from school, Hedwig had been her only conversation partner and although the owl could not speak Harry felt less alone with her there.

Hedwig. Harry had named her after someone she read about. Perhaps the same would do for her? She looked down at the book in her hands. A life among the clouds: The life and career of Barbarella Locksley – the seeker of her age. No way. Harry sighed. She might as well start looking. There was nothing else to do. What names did she know? She'd read about Kitty Miller. Kitty was short for Catherine was is not? It wasn't bad but that wasn't it either. Should she chose something very girly or something neutral like Alex or Robin? Were there even names that were muggle and names that were magical? If Harry had to be honest she had never heard of anyone named Draco or Minerva before attending Hogwarts. She didn't need to limit herself. She had all the names in the world to choose from and... and that was the problem. How was she ever going to choose? How would she know she had chosen right?

Harry got up and sat on the floor in front of the bookcase where she had placed her school books. There were most likely plenty of names inside them but for now she just studied the authors. Most of them were wizards and thus not useful and the rest were much too old fashioned. Desperate she pulled out Hogwarts, A History and flicked through it. She stopped on a random page and played a little game with herself. The first female name she saw she could take. Her eyes wandered down the page. Gertrude Hall. You have to be kidding me. She did this with each book but every result she got, she disliked once she had it. Harry was compiling a rather extensive list of things she did not want to be named as the pile of books on the floor grew.

“Is the chair not up to your standards?” sneered someone behind her and Harry dropped her copy of Magical Drafts and Potions on the floor.

“Seriously? Do you enjoy sneaking up on people?” replied Harry as she glared back at Snape, who was standing in the doorway. Once she had spoken she realized this clearly wasn't a good idea because the professor looked very displeased. Harry couldn't really think of anything she had done to anger him so she hoped this had nothing to do with her. When Snape glared back at her she quickly added: “Sorry, sir.”

“Studying, I see,” Snape nodded, his demeanor improving slightly.

“Don't get your hopes up, sir,” Harry smiled faintly. “I'm just, you know, looking at names and such.”

“In your potions book? And what have you found?” asked Snape, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Erm,” mumbled Harry and picked up her book from the floor. She took one glance at the page. “I'm going to name myself... Scurvy grass... Scurvy Grass Flitterbloom,” she grinned.

“Excellent, I will send that off to the Headmaster at once,” said Snape gravely and turned to leave.

“Oi, I'm not serious!” cried Harry, causing Snape to turn around.

“When are you ever?” he said in a detached manner. “Lunch in 20 minutes. Do get your books off the floor.”

A while later Severus sat down at the dinner table with a sigh. Lunch appeared on the table, courtesy of the house elves. It wasn't long before the girl came into the kitchen and shuffled over to the chair. He studied her carefully. He had sat across from her several times now, but he had yet to see her finish her plate more than once. If he was caught looking at her she would instantly cease eating and so he mostly pretended to ignore her during meals. He wanted to tell her to eat more but he decided against it. She was sitting across from him picking at a cheese sandwich. If this was normal for her she might not be able to eat more. Poppy had suggested that they wait and see. The potions would definitely increase her weight and the mediwitch was certain that once she had gotten used to eating three meals a day her appetite would naturally increase. He took a sip from his tea. Today he had no appetite either. The girl had to be very occupied with deciding upon a name since they had been at the table for several minutes and she had yet to question him about his meeting.

Minerva said they had plenty of time but Severus was already mentally listing anyone he would trust with the girl. After yesterday he needed to. He had taken great care not to admit it directly but when he turned his head and saw the door close behind her in the bookstore he almost had a heart attack. Of course the fear turned to anger once he set after her and caught sight of her running down the street. For a moment however, he was sure he had lost her in the crowd. He couldn't completely deny how he felt but it scared him. It scared him even more how much he had been willing to reveal to her once they had returned. It was most likely just his affection for Lily influencing him – after all he barely knew the girl. True, he had seen her every day for a year and knew her to be reckless, rude and defiant on her good days but did he really know her? What were her dreams, her passions? What was her favorite color? It seemed inconsequential but it was anything but because the truth was Severus needed the distance. He didn't want to know her. He couldn't afford too. It wasn't that he was afraid of liking her – he knew how to control his emotions when needed. But what if she thought he did? What if she expected something. He could definitely maintain the distance between them despite the recent developments! Of course he could. But she might... misunderstand. The sooner he could find a home for her the better. It would have been better for both of them if either she or he transferred to a different school entirely. Out of sight, out of mind. But Dumbledore would never let that happen. Once he had found a place where he knew she would be well looked after he could withdraw with a clear conscience. But something she had said yesterday stuck in his mind. You hit me. The accusation was completely unfounded of course. But for a moment, an awful moment, he found himself evaluating his actions in panic. I am not like him. He couldn't be. He wouldn't be. And that was the source of another conflict entirely. He was torn between staying out of her life as much as possible and remaining there. The first was by far the most practical. Once they had found her a home she didn't need him and he didn't need her. They could continue their lives without further complication. It all depended on her and how she would feel about that. Would she appreciate it or feel abandoned by her biological father? Severus refused to abandon her. He refused to leave his child feeling alone and unwanted because he knew what that felt like.

“Professor?” said a young voice, calling him back from the depths of his worries.

“What?” he answered rather shortly as he returned his attention to the tea and pretended not to have been mentally absent.

“What did professor Dumbledore want?” she repeated rather impatiently. “If you don't mind me asking, sir?”

“He intends to inform professor Flitwick and professor Sprout of the situation. He has likely already done so. It would appear he simply wanted to test the story out on them. He also informed me that should that go over well he intends to inform the rest of the staff currently at Hogwarts tomorrow. I believe it is only professor Babbling, Madam Hooch and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who are not present. The Headmaster believes the staff currently here can be trusted to keep the secret another two days.”

Severus didn't doubt the other staff members' loyalty but he knew who the old fool had hired for defense and there was a sensationalist if ever there was one. It was inconceivable that he had lost not only to Quirrel but to Gilderoy Lockhart of all people! But no, Severus 'could not be spared where he was' and it 'would be an image problem'. It was about the tattoo on his arm, Severus knew that. People wouldn't approve of him teaching anything remotely connected to the Dark Arts. Still it was infuriating that he didn't even get the chance to prove himself. There was hardly anything he didn't know about the subject! Lockhart was a fraud as clear as day! A no good charlatan! And he was still a better bet than Severus? Good thing he wouldn't arrive until the last minute. Severus didn't need the additional headache. Not really wanting to continue the conversation he rose from the table, ordered the girl to finish her plate, instructed her to study in her room and handed her the potion before leaving her by herself. He needed to take his mind of things. An hour or two in the lab might do the trick.

Harry grabbed an orange and put the potion in her pocket. She wanted to take it last because though it wasn't as bad a flavor as other potions she had been so unfortunate as to sample it caused anything she ate or drank afterwards to taste bitter. She saw no reason to remain seated now the Snape had left her so she got up and left. Harry was upset although she didn't show it. Clearly Snape was lying to her. Clearly there was something he wasn't telling her about that meeting. Otherwise why had he been so distant? So consumed by his thoughts? Well, if he didn't want to tell her she didn't care! McGonagall was coming today and she could always ask her then whether there were any new developments. She wouldn't hide anything, Harry was certain. After all she had been the only one who had tried to inform Harry of why everything was happening.

She put the vial on her desk and sat on the bed, peeling the orange. She was stuck on the whole name-issue. She had spent most of the day debating the pros and cons of names such as Elizabeth, Mary, Louisa and Cinnamon. Some she hated, some she disliked only when applied to her, some she didn't really mind that much but none she loved. It was a strange idea anyway. Naming yourself. She could understand it if you did it because you already knew what you wanted and did it for you and not because you had to. It was weird to have to do it because she would have none other wise. This was the sort of thing your parents did. How would she know whether something really suited her?

Harry ate a piece of orange. Hmm... I wonder what mum would have called me. I wonder if she had a name for me. But Lily clearly had given her no name because then all the professors wouldn't be asking her to pick one. But if she took her last name that would be a bit like Lily had given her a name, right? Aunt Petunia wasn't named that anymore and so Harry would be the only Evans left. Thinking about these things Harry finished her orange and leaned back on the bed. The restless night was making her eyelids heavy and before long she was soundly asleep.

Later that day she woke up covered in orange peels as someone knocked firmly on the door. It took a moment for Harry to register what was happening but then her eyes flew open and and she jumped out of bed.

“What on earth are you doing?” Snape's impatient voice thundered.

Oh, shit! thought Harry as her eyes fell on the vial lying innocently on her desk. Making a fast decision she grabbed it and hid it under her pillow. She would take it later and she didn't think there was any reason to upset Snape by letting him know she hadn't yet. She turned around just in time as Snape opened the door and glared at her.

“Have your ears fallen off or do you simply consider yourself above answering the door?” he sneered.

“Uhm,” was all Harry could say as she tried to think of a good reply.

Snape glanced at her orange peel covered bed and Harry followed his gaze and quickly gathered them together in her hands before looking back at him.

“Were you asleep? I believe I told you to study, not lie about all day!”

“I wasn't! I was just looking at names!” she protested.

Snape initially didn't reply to that but he stepped closer to her, reached out and removed a bit of orange peel from her hair before placing it with the rest in her hands. Harry could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she lowered her head to hide her embarrassment.

“You cannot even be bothered to put the slightest amount of effort into your lies, can you? I am warning you. Do not lie to me,” he said ominously. “Professor McGonagall has arrived. She is waiting for you in the living room.”

With that he turned and left the room, his robes billowing as he went. Harry was overwhelmed by the scent of spices, fire and strange ingredients that this movement caused. Clearly he had been brewing something. He smelled like his classroom. So, McGonagall was there. That explained why Harry's head was still attached to her neck. She had expected him to chew her up the moment she realized he had seen through her. Clearly he wasn't keen on doing that with McGonagall around. Harry wondered why. After quickly washing her hands and face in the bathroom and throwing away the orange peels she made her way into the living room.

McGonagall could only stay for an hour but Harry welcomed the distraction. The professor brought a book with her. It was a lexicon of historical witches and McGonagall thought it might help her in her search for a name. Snape excused himself and did not join them for which Harry was grateful and she spent that short time discussing Quidditch with McGonagall. The rest of the day she spent in her room, going through the book – except for dinner of course which was nothing if not uneventful as Snape spent the entire meal reading a journal of some sort and Harry didn't see the point in interrupting. She went to bed that night feeling the sand falling through the hourglass as Sunday approached. The vial under her pillow was forgotten.

“Astrid?”

“No,” Harry replied shaking her head. McGonagall leaned back in the armchair, clearly deep in thought. Harry was seated on the couch with the book McGonagall had brought with her in her lap.

“Astrid Yellowbolt was a really fascinating character,” replied Pomfrey from the other armchair. Snape was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. Harry didn't think he enjoyed having the witches over unannounced. Pomfrey had suggested that he could leave them to themselves when he tried to postpone their visit due to his work but he had replied that there was no way he was going to leave the three of them in his home unobserved. McGonagall and Pomfrey found they had an afternoon to spare and had decided to assist Harry in her search for a name.

Harry was grateful for it even if she was getting frustrated. It was Saturday. She had until the next day to decide. Why couldn't Dumbledore postpone revealing her? Well, honestly Harry didn't really want him to because if everything was announced then she no longer had to be in hiding. Blue skies. Green trees. Fresh air. Not being in close proximity to Snape at all hours. It sounded like heaven.

“Severus, won't you sit down? I cannot concentrate with you standing there!” said McGonagall.

Snape glared at her but remained where he was.

“Have you decided upon your surname, Harry?” asked Pomfrey before the conversation between the two professors could continue further.

“I think so...” mumbled Harry. “I mean, I don't really think I have much of choice there. I don't want to keep mine and there seems to only be two choices.”

“Evans then?” said Snape impatiently.

“I guess,” Harry shrugged.

“Now, Harry...” began McGonagall.

“She chose, Minerva. Let it go,” Snape interrupted her as he moved from the doorway and joined Harry on the couch.

“But I just think...”

“No. She chose,” Snape sneered. “I do not think you have any right to influence her decision based on your own preferences.”

“I could say the same about you,” retorted McGonagall. “As a matter of fact...”

“Does anyone want tea?” interjected Pomfrey before things could escalate.

Why does it have to be such a big deal? Harry felt crushed. She did feel a bit bad about dropping Potter and McGonagall made it worse. She was pretty sure she hated James. Pretty sure. After all he had been the face of her imaginary perfect father her entire life and that was hard to let go of. But even if she was disgusted by him she couldn't help but feel protective of him when Snape sneered at his memory. Old habits, perhaps? Harry didn't know. She accepted a cup of tea from Pomfrey as she returned from the kitchen with a tray.

“The Evans women were named for flowers, perhaps that would be a starting point?” McGonagall said as she turned to Harry, her agitation still evident in her voice.

“I suppose, professor,” mumbled Harry. This wasn't going well and Harry didn't know what to do with herself when the adults around her were disagreeing. Mostly she wanted to turn invisible so she wouldn't somehow get blamed for what ever was wrong. She had tried that too many times.

“Rose? Violet?” suggested Pomfrey, now a lot more comfortable with the subject.

Harry shook her head.

“Daisy?” grinned McGonagall and Harry grimaced in response. “Pansy?” the professor continued and smirked when to Harry's surprise Snape nearly choked on his tea.

“It's pretty weird with all the flowers,” said Harry. “I've always thought so. Why would you name everyone similar things?”

“Well, it's common practice in some families. In the wizarding world it is especially normal to give children themed names in pureblood families,” explained McGonagall.

“I thought it just had to be Latin, professor,” replied Harry.

“Latin names can be beautiful. I have a great aunt named Apracita – I've always liked that name,” added Pomfrey. “Flavia? Germana? Petronia?”

“Those are weird. Are people still named that, Madam Pomfrey?” Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

“Angelica?” said McGonagall.

“I am never referring to her as angelic,” huffed Snape and put his teacup down.

“So, you would be using her first name, would you now?” smirked McGonagall.

“Perhaps, we should go. We've been here almost two hours as it is,” said Pomfrey.

“Indeed,” agreed Snape as he glared at McGonagall.

Severus took a deep breath as the door closed behind them. Damn, that old cat! He was not pleased because he knew that Minerva inviting herself two days in a row was not only about helping the girl. She was doubting his ability to handle the child and even though he would usually agree with her that he had no idea what he was doing he found it extremely hurtful when she offered him advise and questioned him because if he wasn't fit to look after a child for one lousy summer he knew what it meant. He was every bit as useless as he had been. Minerva knew about his childhood. Not all of course but quite a bit. Only she and the Headmaster did. Well, he had once tried pleading with Slughorn but he never got far enough in his explanations to really reveal anything because the former Head of Slytherin simply didn't care for Severus and send him off.

He could see it in her eyes. He was sure of it. She started out being concerned about his discipline methods and Severus was glad he didn't tell her exactly how he dealt with the girl or the old lioness likely would have killed him. She kept voicing her concerns about the resorting. At first she had been resigned but now she was becoming more insistent that surely if it was necessary they could ask Filius or Pomona to take her. The idea was laughable to Severus. Minerva making excuses for James Potter was the worst of all. Severus understood that she had cared a great deal for him just like Dumbledore but he was bitterly reminded of another time when Gryffindor favorites were shielded despite of their cruelty. To Severus this was no different. As far as he was concerned defending James was an insult to Lily's memory. He was relieved that the girl had chosen to take her mothers name. The thought of her running around as a Potter was nauseating.

The girl had retreated to her room while Severus showed the witches to the door. He looked into the living room for a moment. He couldn't remember the last time more than two people had been in his quarters at once. Suddenly the fire behind him flared green and Severus immediately closed the enchanted door and turned back into his office.

“Severus? May I come through, my boy?”

He didn't get the chance to allow or deny the Headmaster entrance because in the next moment he stepped through as though Severus had invited him in.

“Headmaster,” Severus greeted him through clenched teeth. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Harry is well, I trust?” said Dumbledore before transforming the remaining student desk into a comfortable armchair for himself.

“As well as can be expected.”

“Before you resume your protesting my seeing her, I will have you know that is not why I am here.”

“Is that so?” replied Severus, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. “Headmaster, I have never refused to see you, however, I would prefer some choice as to when I will see you. At the risk of being discourteous, why are you here?”

“Can't I simply drop in for a visit once in a while, my boy?” smiled Dumbledore.

“You could just as easily have sent for me,” muttered Severus.

“I wanted to see how you were coping, Severus. I know this cannot be easy for you.”

“My personal feelings are of little consequence at the moment.”

“Is that so?” replied Dumbledore thoughtfully. “I would think they mattered a great deal. I will be honest with you. I've spoken to Minerva and she seems to think that you are having a difficult time dealing with this – as well you might.”

Interfering old tabby! Severus looked away from the Headmaster.

“Severus, I need to know that you are not letting your feelings about James get in the way of what must be done. I am certain if you would only consider things from his perspective you might understand his actions. I do not want you imposing you own resentment for James upon her.”

Severus froze. Was he seriously suggesting that? Severus would have to admit he was more than a little pleased with the girl's current dislike of James Potter and he was certainly thrilled she would not carry his name, but to suggest he had planted those feelings was beyond absurd! How dare he?

“I can assure you I have done nothing to influence her feelings on that subject. Seeing as it was Minerva who decided to tell her about what that terrible excuse for a man did, I would suggest you take it up with her,” sneered the younger wizard.

“I am glad to hear it, Severus. Of course you must understand I only have her best interest in mind. It would be harmful to fan the flames, so to speak, when she is still publicly his heiress.”

“Do not think for a moment I do not understand what you are doing, Headmaster! I've seen it before after all. Does it truly not matter to you what Potter did? Of course not! He must be shielded! His memory protected! Your precious Potter could do no wrong, isn't that so?” hissed Severus as he began to lose his patience.

“My boy, what would you have done? If you and Lily had been married and you found out she had not only been unfaithful to you but had given birth to James' child which you up until then had assumed to be yours? Tell me, would you have kept that child?”

Severus blinked. He had not given any thought to that and he didn't want to either. Potter was a fiend. What good was it to dwell on hypotheticals when they wouldn't excuse Potter's actions?

“I don't know,” replied Severus with near honesty. But you wouldn't, would you?

“What would you have done to keep Lily?” continued Dumbledore.

“Everything,” said Severus with far more conviction.

“And if you believed her leaving you would get her killed?” added the Headmaster solemnly. “I had thought at least one of you two had been able to leave the school rivalry behind, but clearly I was mistaken. I am sure you can imagine how James must have felt when his wife had not only been unfaithful and she was carrying the child of another but that someone was you. I believe he was acting out of desperation not only to keep his wife but also to save her life. Furthermore he must have been furious with the both of you. I imagine he didn't even consider your feelings for Lily but saw this as you attempting to ruin him. In other words it was you final victory in your, if I am honest, rather petty fights.”

“My victory?” repeated Severus. He was not certain he could follow this train of thought.

“Your victory indeed. Tell me, Severus, was there anything worse you could do to him short of actually ending up with Lily or harming her?”

“If you will excuse me, Headmaster, but I have work to do and surely you do too,” said Severus after a moments pause. The old man's piercing blue eyes were fixed upon him and Severus felt a prickling sensation under the old man's gaze. He was nearly getting to him by speaking to his emotions and the Headmaster knew this. It was making Severus more than uncomfortable and so he sought to end the discussion as quickly as possible. Dumbledore knew this of course. He had never needed legillimensy to know what Severus was thinking. It had always been unnerving but at times it had been useful when he couldn't express his emotions himself. Now that Severus almost considered the man an adversary, at least where the issue of the girl was concerned, it was nearly frightening.

“Quite right, Severus,” said Dumbledore calming and gave Severus a knowing look. “I shall leave you to your work then. Give my best to Harry, won't you?”

Severus nodded curtly as the old man disappeared through the fireplace. When he was there he nearly succeeded in making Severus feel sympathy with James Potter and guilt for being the cause of his misery but now that he was gone the Potions Master was disgusted by the mere notion. There was more than a little schadenfreude involved. His victory? Words could not describe how good it felt that he, Severus Snape, was not the only man to have been consumed by jealousy and bitterness. To think that he was the one being envied. Severus closed the door behind him and entered the living room with a faint smirk as he went in search of the girl.