Snape sat alone in his parlor, relaxing in his armchair by the fire and reflecting on the past two days. He rubbed one hand along his temple, trying to ease a mild headache that was no doubt a result of several sleepless nights and the effort of dealing with— and mostly suppressing—all of the emotions that were attempting to surface without his consent.

It had been an intense and draining afternoon with Harry, but thankfully the two had enjoyed a relatively calm dinner before retreating to the parlor to read quietly. Snape knew the boy must be exhausted, so at 8:30 he insisted he get ready for bed. He'd anticipated resistance and steeled himself for childish defiance, but Harry surprised him by putting up little fuss and heading to his room. His lights were out just after 9pm.

Ah, peace at last.

The Hogwarts students would be leaving the following day for Easter holiday. Snape would be busy in the morning getting them all ready and organized for their trip home, but then he'd be free for a week. It would be a welcome break that gave Snape time to get everything else done. He wanted everything with Harry's apprenticeship resolved before the students came back.

Snape desperately needed the Academy of Potion Masters (APM) to approve the apprenticeship with Harry or they would be in a very precarious place with his custody and the Ministry. He sipped a cup of tea while he played out various strategies to secure this unorthodox bond. Although he had several good contacts at the APM, knew it would ultimately never work without the approval of his mentor, Potion Master Barclay. Unfortunately just imagining this particular conversation with the man caused Snape's muscles to tense.

Master Barclay was one of the most renowned Potion Masters, not just in the UK, but in the world. He was a true academic and was highly respected for his contributions to the Wizarding World, both in terms of his research and the policies he crafted. While he could be found teaching an occasional advanced seminar, he was so devoted to his lab work and writing that he rarely trained other wizards. When he'd taken Snape on as an apprentice, it had been nearly twenty years since he'd last done so, and he hadn't taken another one since.

Although he had initially thought Snape was somewhat awkward and withdrawn, he soon found he was actually extremely focused and dedicated. The young wizard also had an extraordinary intuition that allowed him to create and innovate new potions in a way that Master Barclay had never seen. He'd found that working with Snape inspired his own passion for potions and in return, he did his best to teach him everything he knew.

Snape's apprenticeship with Master Barclay had been fruitful, but far from easy. Master Barclay, like Snape, was a perfectionist and he demanded excellence at all times, both from himself and his apprentice. But unlike Snape, he cared very much about how he was perceived by others, and he was extremely competitive by nature, which at times would lead him to become somewhat neurotic, compulsive and difficult to work with.

Although he would never admit it, there was also a small part of Master Barclay that was somewhat jealous of Snape's natural talent, but he cared enough for his young apprentice that he never let it get in the way of teaching him or nurturing his passions.

But ultimately the two were very different; Snape was driven by a desire to create and explore, while Master Barclay was concerned with cranking out data and publishing as much research as possible. He prided himself on being the preeminent Potion Master when it came to describing magical properties and characterizing interactions between ingredients. Master Barclay truly lived for the awards and the professional accolades and he derived enormous joy from being a leading contributor to the annals of the Academy of Potion Masters.

While this ambition fed his mentor, Snape had never cared for public acclaim or recognition, and in his last year of apprenticeship he began to focus less on his mentor's research, and more on his own work. He was much more interested in using his depth of knoweldge to create something new and useful.

Although Snape was well-known for being an impossible person to read, he was actually incredibly perceptive and intuitive about the world. It was this intuition that made him such a brilliant Legilimans, as well as being a talented Potion Master. His magic was not just powerful, it also allowed him to connect strongly to the world around him, whether it was other people's emotions or nature or even the potion ingredients themselves. He couldn't explain it, but it was as if he could visualize the way everything connected to the universe, he could just sense what a potion needed the same way he could see the color of the sky or smell the scent of a flower. Once he allowed himself to connect with and develop his intuition, he was able to create new potions and spells that might have taken others years of work.

When Snape had taken his apprenticeship, it was the first time he had ever had someone else so involved in his everyday life. Even if he didn't always enjoy the tedious research and micromanagement, he worked with dedication and basked in having the one-on-one attention of his mentor, a man who saw and appreciated his talents. He was eager to please and he applied himself diligently in all things, desperately hoping to gain the praise of Master Barclay. He would never have admitted it, but Master Barclay was more of a father figure than his own biological father had ever had been. He yearned for his approval and withered at his displeasure.

There were days during his apprenticeship when Master Barclay would take great interest in spending time with Snape, teaching him techniques and sharing his many insights and ideas. Snape lived for this, he soaked it up like a rain on a desert cactus. But then there were days-or even weeks- when his mentor was busy with other things and barely had time to do more than emphasize a deadline or a to-do list. Although he would never show it, this was painful for Snape. He craved the validation and when he didn't receive it, he began to pull away a bit, building walls to protect himself and his emotions.

When Snape finally finished his apprenticeship, he had already started to gain a reputation as an exceptional young Potion Master. His intuition had been nurtured, but he had also been given an extremely strong foundation on the chemical and physical properties of potions that would serve him in whatever he chose to do. He also had the admiration and respect of one of the most well-connected and admired Potion Masters, which gave him clout, especially amongst the purebloods and high-born wizards.

In the years after leaving his apprenticeship, things had taken a dark turn for Snape. Without the stabilizing relationship of his mentor, his own childhood wounds festered and he found himself falling in with the wrong crowd as he sought out opportunities outside of academics. His first job was a commission from a collective of pureblood wizards who wanted him to create bespoke potions for them for a very good fee. He thought it would be a brilliant opportunity, but it soon devolved into his personal hell.

The requests started out rather benign, but as time went on the pureblood families (many of whom turned out to be Death Eaters) wanted more from him. Always the outcast, Snape had initially thrived in the way they fawned over his skills, and it gave him the validation he was constantly seeking. He also reveled in the freedom he had to explore his own creativity without anyone giving him any boundaries; for the first time in his life, he had the time and the funding to indulge his imagination. The men had challenged him, and he loved when he not only met those challenges, but exceeded all expectations resulting in brilliant new creations.

His descent into becoming a Death Eater was slow, until all of a sudden it wasn't. He had edged the ethical boundaries at first, justifying his foray into dark magic by telling himself that knowledge and innovation were inherently amoral. He told himself it was a disservice to the wizarding world to deny any exploration of magic just because someone could potentially do harm with it. Knowledge was never inherently evil, it only became evil when someone put malicious intent behind it. But once those boundaries were blurred, they quickly disappeared completely.

And like that, Snape fell head-first into the world of Death Eaters. Once he had seen for himself how people utilized his creations to harm and torture others, he regretted it completely but he didn't know how to extricate himself. Despite winning the favor of the Dark Lord for all of his capabilities, he was horrified when he realized that his potions and spells were being used to their most sadistic potential. It was that which eventually led him back to Hogwarts to seek the counsel and redemption of Dumbledore.

It was reflecting on these mistakes that filled Snape with deep shame and regret. It made him hesitant to reach out to his former mentor. Although he had been in a respectable position as Hogwart's Potion Master for many years now, he was still embarrassed that he had allowed himself to go down such a dark path right out of his apprenticeship. He worried that Master Barclay would be ashamed of him and find him unworthy or incapable of training an apprentice of his own. Even though it had been fifteen years since he'd been an apprentice, he was still desperate for his mentor's approval.

Just as he was deep in thought, the floo flared to life and Albus Dumbledore's voice broke the silence.

"Good evening, Severus, might I step through?"

"Of course, Albus," Snape replied, standing up from his chair to greet the Headmaster.

"I'm sorry it is so late, it was quite a busy day indeed" Dumbledore replied, stepping through the flames and brushing the ash off of his turquoise robes. "May I?" he asked, gesturing toward the sofa.

"Please, sit. Can I get you a drink? Some tea, or perhaps a firewhisky?" Snape offered, knowing that Dumbledore didn't really drink alcohol but hoping that he might surprise him so they could both enjoy a bit of booze to calm the nerves.

"No, thank you, Severus. I won't be long." Dumbledore sat on the sofa and stroked his beard for a moment absentmindedly. "How's Harry doing?"

Snape sighed audibly before answering. "It was a long afternoon. He finally explained to me why he ran away. It turns out that over the summer he was approached by a certain house elf who told him it would be too dangerous to return to Hogwarts. This was the impetus that led to him leave. He was terrified, Albus."

Dumbledore paused for a moment to soak in these words. He continued to stroke his beard before responding "I don't understand how this could be, Harry should have been protected by the blood wards."

"Yes, well, apparently those blood wards didn't apply to house elves." Snape crossed his legs and sat back in his armchair, feeling rather irritated that Dumbledore had missed this. "Harry told me it was Dobby who came to see him, the elf that works for the Malfoys."

Now it was Dumbledore's turn to be shocked. "What did this house elf say to him?" he asked, the concern in his voice audible.

"He told Harry that if he returned to Hogwarts, he would be killed." Snape sipped his tea, feeling a bit smug but keeping a neutral expression on his face while he waited for a response.

"Dear me, that is very concerning indeed," Dumbledore said, the lines on his face getting deeper as he considered the implications. "Have you heard anything on your end from Lucius Malfoy or anyone else?"

"Not a whisper. And I'm quite surprised," Snape responded, putting the teacup again to his lips before continuing. "Clearly, whatever Malfoy had planned could not go forward with Potter on the run. It appears Dobby's warning put a stopper in their plans."

Nodding his head in agreement, Dumbledore put a hand on his face, rubbing his chin gently as he was locked in thought. "I suppose it is more important than ever that we finalize this apprenticeship with Harry. Our first priority has to be to keep him safe while we investigate who exactly is targeting him and how."

"Yes, Albus, I agree completely. I can't say that I am shocked to hear that Malfoy is behind this. Nonetheless, we will need to tread carefully. My first priority is to keep Potter safe, and the sooner the better."

"Have you reached out to the APM?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes focusing on Snape.

"No, not yet. I plan to do that tomorrow. I will try to set up a meeting with Barclay, but I'm still very concerned about how he will react."

In truth, Snape dreaded the conversation. Although they had crossed paths casually at various conferences and at the APM annual meetings, they generally kept to simple pleasantries and Snape had never made an effort to confide in or explain himself to his former mentor.

"I will write him a letter tonight and request a meeting," Snape said calmly, not letting Dumbledore see his fear and apprehension. "Hopefully he can meet with me in the next few days, I want this all resolved before the students get back."

"I couldn't agree more. Do keep me updated, and if you need my help for any reason, all you need to do is ask."

"Thank you, Albus. I think we'll be fine. I just hope you can convince the Ministry to sign the paperwork if I am able to procure the support of the APM."

"Don't worry about that at all, Severus, there are a lot of people I can call upon on my end as long as you have the Academy's support on yours."

The two sat silently for a moment before Dumbledore got up again. "It appears you have everything under control, so I will take my leave now. Do not hesitate to reach out if you need my help."

Snape stood out of politeness to wish the old wizard goodbye. "Thank you, Albus. Goodnight."

Moments later, his parlor was empty again. Snape debated going straight to bed, but he decided he should first sit down at his desk and write to Master Barclay. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he also knew it was his only choice to get the apprenticeship finalized.

Just as he was about to sit down at his desk, he felt a sudden urge to check on Harry. He slinked quietly down the hallway and peaked into the door. Harry was fast asleep, laying on his stomach with one foot hanging off the side of the bed. Snape breathed a sigh of relief and shut the door quietly behind him before returning to his desk to write. He pulled out a piece of parchment and dipped his quill.

Please Merlin, I hope this works out. 

The next morning Snape woke early, the burden of his giant to-do list weighing heavily on him even in sleep. He dressed himself in a fresh pair of teaching robes and made himself a cup of tea, moving quietly in his quarters and trying not to wake Harry.

At quarter to 8, Snape knocked softly on Harry's door and peaked his head through. Harry lifted himself onto his elbows and turned his head toward the noise, squinting to focus his eyes on his professor.

"Don't get up, Potter," Snape said as Harry fumbled to grab his glasses from the bedside table.

"The students are leaving for their holidays today. I need to go to the Great Hall for breakfast and then take care of a few things with my prefects. I'll leave breakfast for you in the kitchen. I will be back early in the afternoon as soon as I've gotten all of the students on the train."

Harry was still extremely groggy. He pushed himself into a sitting position before speaking. "Oh, OK, sure."

"Take your time and sleep more if you need to. After you eat breakfast, you can just read in the parlor or take care of things here in your room."

Snape wasn't really sure what to do with the boy. He desperately needed to take care of some of his House Master duties and he prayed Harry could entertain himself and stay out of trouble for a few hours.

"I won't be gone long. When I return we'll discuss our plans for the next week, we may need to take a few trips out of the castle."

Harry's ears perked up with this. He was already tired of sitting around in the dungeons all day, he was dying to get some fresh air and a change of scenery. "Great! Where are we going?"

"We'll discuss things when I return. For the time being I expect you to stay in these quarters and entertain yourself. You are welcome to borrow any books from my personal library, but if you do, you should treat them with great care and respect." He gave Harry his stern professor face.

"Yes, sir, I will."

"Good. I'll only be gone a few hours, but it's important you stay inside, Potter. I don't want you wandering around the castle while I'm gone, do you understand?" Snape put extra effort into giving him an intimidating glare.

Harry nodded.

"Use your words, I don't want there to be any confusion."

"Yes, sir," Harry said before giving him a yawn and laying back down on the bed.

"Get some rest, I'll be back shortly." And with that, Snape closed the door. He worried slightly that he was leaving Harry alone in his quarters, but he hoped the boy was smart enough not to cause too much trouble and besides, he had far too much to do today to worry about it.

Harry had fallen back to sleep after his short conversation with Snape. He was drifting in and out of that twilight sleep, hovering between the dream world and reality, vaguely aware of both but allowing his mind to float freely. It had been a long time since he'd felt comfortable and safe enough to do that.

When he finally dragged himself out of bed, it was nearly 10:30am, later than he'd ever been able to sleep but he had desperately needed it. He was glad he'd had the morning to himself and by the time he put on his clothes and washed his face he was feeling quite refreshed.

He walked to the kitchen and saw a note on the table letting him know there was juice, milk and fruit in the fridge. There was a also bowl of porridge on the table and a plate with eggs and bacon, both of which had been charmed to stay warm. He went to the fridge and pulled out the bowl of fresh fruit and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. He enjoyed a leisurely breakfast-it was a real treat compared to his usual mornings and he felt a bit like a king.

Having gorged himself on everything at the table, Harry felt stuffed. He had nothing to do, he decided to lay himself down on the couch in front of the fire. Even though it was April, the dungeons were still quite chilly, and Snape kept the fireplace going nearly all of the time. Harry was content just to lay there and relax, enjoying the feeling of a full belly, the warmth of the fire and the comfort of the cozy couch.

After a brief post-breakfast kip, Harry got up and wandered around the parlor, pulling out books and running his hands along the shelves. It didn't take long before Harry started to feel restless and bored. He knew he should just sit quietly and read his Vampire Detective book but he wasn't really in the mood for reading. He wanted to do something.

At first he went back to his room and considered unpacking his trunk, but after opening it and looking inside, he frowned to himself and shut the lid. He wandered back into the parlor.

This time he sat down in Snape's armchair. He put both of his arms on the armrests, sitting straight up and pretending to be Professor Snape. He chucked to himself as he imagined sneering at some student. "10 points from Gryffindor for being the stupidest student in my class" he barked out loud, amusing himself with his best Snape impression.

Harry looked at the clock, it was now 11:30am. He was bored out of his mind and knew Snape still wouldn't be back for a while. He got up from the armchair and paced around the parlor for another minute before throwing himself again onto the couch. He let out a long annoyed sigh. "Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh." He was so SO bored.

He knew Snape had warned him not to leave his quarters, but what did he really expect? He had to know that he couldn't leave a curious 12 year-old boy alone for that many hours with nothing to do. Especially when that boy was Harry Potter.

Harry was picking at a loose thread in the couch he suddenly remembered his invisibility cloak. His heart raced a little bit and he swallowed hard, feeling a small shiver of fear just imagining how Snape would react if he found out Harry had tried to find—much less take back—his cloak. But that same feeling also gave him a thrill. The small adrenaline rush he got from just thinking about this little adventure made him feel good and it seemed to quiet the anxiety that he never seemed to get rid of.

He sat up on the couch and tried to think. Where would Snape hide it? He had put it inside his robes last night before that little blow-up. Maybe it was in his room? Perhaps it was still tucked into the pockets of one of his robes.

A small voice warned Harry to let it go. But the euphoric high he felt when he imagined getting his cloak back, and maybe even leaving the quarters to see his friends, quickly overpowered the rational part of his brain and the voice disappeared.

For Harry, the cloak was more than just a fantastic tool for sneaking around-over (although he loved it for that reason too). Over the last year it had become almost a security blanket to him. It had kept him safe those months out on the street, and the fact that it had belonged to his father made him feel an extra sense of comfort when he was wrapped up in it. He knew he was too old to sleep with a teddy bear or a blanket, but the feeling of being cocooned in its soft, silky magic added the sense of calm it gave him. He sometimes even imagined that the cloak was his father hugging and holding him.

Harry glanced at the clock once more, trying to figure out exactly how much time he had. Maybe an hour? Having made up his mind to get the cloak, he walked down the hallway to Snape's room. He moved slowly and kept his ears open for any sound of the man returning to his quarters. His own heartbeat pounded loudly in his head, but instead of stopping him, it just emboldened him.

He reached out for the door handle and pulled it down slowly before giving the door a gentle push. To his surprise, the door opened. I can't believe he didn't lock this. Is he daft?

Harry took a few steps into the darkness. Pulling his wand out of his waistband he cast a Lumos and light filled the room. It was mostly what Harry expected- simple, elegant, and filled with dark wood and warm fabrics. It was odd to see that while the room was certainly clean and well-organized, there was still evidence that it was being lived in. Small touches of Snape peppered the room. There was an old leather-bound book with a bookmark sticking out next to an empty water glass on the right-hand bedside table. A pair of well-worn slippers lay on the floor near the end of the bed. One of the doors to the large wooden wardrobe was a centimeter ajar, suggesting Snape had been rushing this morning when he got dressed.

Harry walked over to the wardrobe and pulled open the door on the right. He paused for a moment when he got the faintest smell of Snape; it was an earthy scent, like when rain fell in the forest, a combination of sandalwood and cedar with a hint of fresh grass and the tiniest bit of spice. He'd never thought about how Snape smelled before, but as soon as the air hit him he recognized it immediately. The smell, which came from standing for hours over cauldrons, penetrated his robes. Harry didn't know what compelled him, but he ran his hands across the dozen or so identical black robes, putting his face next to them and breathing them in.

He felt embarrassed as soon as he'd done it. Stop being a weirdo, just get the damn cloak and get out of here. 

Harry opened both doors to the wardrobe as far as they would go and stepped back for a moment to look over everything. In a very Snape-like fashion, everything was organized and its place. Nearly all of his clothes were black, except for a few white collared shirts and a few sweaters in various shades of gray and green. His belts and ties hung from a modified hanger, and there was a row of nearly identical black shoes and boots on the bottom.

On a shelf above the hanging clothes, a gorgeous hand-carved wooden box drew Harry's attention and he reached for it. Opening it up, he found the few family heirlooms Snape had inherited from his mother's side; two pairs of beautiful silver cufflinks, one with a Celtic knot and another with the Prince family crest, and an expensive old watch with a face made from mother of pearl. Harry closed the box gently and quickly replaced it, sensing that those were very personal items. He reminded himself that it was rude to snoop for the sake of snooping.

Harry couldn't see back very far on the shelf because of its height, so he stood on the bottom edge of the wardrobe and ran his hand along the top shelf. He passed over a few piles of folded clothes and towels. And then he felt it. There was no mistaking the silky magical feel of his cloak and he felt his stomach flutter in excitement as he wrapped his hand around it and pulled it down.

A huge smile crossed his face and he was filled with an immediate warmth and sense of accomplishment. I got it! I can't believe he didn't hide this better. He shut the doors to Snape's wardrobe tightly and rushed out, closing the heavy bedroom door quietly behind him.

That was so easy, Harry thought to himself as he wrapped himself in the cloak. He glanced at the clock a final time before heading out the front door into the empty hallways of the dungeon.