Whilst Professor Quirrell handed out last week’s homework assignments, Ron picked up the piece of parchment for close inspection.

He and Harry had been staring at it for most of the lesson, as if they were hoping it may somehow reveal its secrets.

 “Looks like Italian or something,” Ron said, perplexed.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione leant across the table impatiently.

 “Oh, come on. It’s Latin,” she told them, precociously.

Ron pulled a face. “Alright then Smartie Pants, what does it mean, since you know so much?”

 “I don’t know,” the girl said, more quietly this time.

The redhead smirked, triumphant.

 “But we can find out,” she said, ignoring him. “We’ll go to the library tonight after dinner – there’s bound to be something there to help us.”

 “The library. Is that your answer to everything?” Ron sighed.

But Harry shook his head. “I can’t. I’ve got detention, remember?”

 “Right,” Hermione sighed. “Well, Ron and I can go. We’ll find out what it means.”

 “Why do I need to go?” Ron whined, earning himself a sharp dig in the ribs from the young witch. “Ow! Alright, I’ll go.”

“Good work P-Potter,” Quirrell said, handing him his assignment.

Glancing down at the parchment, Harry’s eyes widened as he saw the large ‘O’ in the top right hand corner of the page.

An outstanding! He’d gotten an outstanding on his Defence Against the Dark Arts homework!

 “Thank you sir,” Harry replied, smiling – perhaps for the first time in days.

This was the first outstanding grade he’d gotten.

 “That’s great, Harry! Well done,” Hermione told him.

 “Thanks. Wait until I tell–” Harry began.

But he stopped mid-sentence, and as quickly as it had appeared, his smile faded.

 “Tell who?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No body. It doesn’t matter. Come on, we better go or we’ll be late for Transfiguration.”

For a moment, Hermione didn’t quite look ready to let it go, but when Ron stood up she reluctantly followed suit.

 “P-Potter. Stay b-behind a moment, if you will,” Quirrell called from across the classroom.

Harry’s friends glanced at him, a little unsurely.

 “You go ahead. Let McGonagall know I’m on my way,” he assured them.

As the rest of the students left the classroom, Harry went to stand beside his professor.

 “Sir?”

 “H-how are you, P-Potter?”

 “Uh… fine sir, thank you,” Harry told him, confused.

 “Anything t-troubling you?” Quirrell asked.

Harry shook his head, wondering if this was the man’s way of making up for his behaviour last term.

 “C-couldn’t help n-noticing, you and P-Professor Sn-Snape h-haven’t been getting along s-so well,” he stuttered.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, unsure of how best to respond.

 “S-Severus can be a little p-prickly at times. N-not the be-be-best with children,” Quirrell continued.

Harry opened his mouth to defend the potions mater, but promptly closed it again.

 “W-Why don’t you stop by my office th-this evening, we’ll have a c-cup of tea?” the professor suggested.

Harry hesitated, feeling a little odd.

He wasn’t sure exactly why – after all, he had walked into Professor Snape’s own quarters without a second thought. But this felt different.

 “It’s alright, sir. Thanks and all, but I have detention tonight,” he said, turning to leave the classroom.

 “O-Okay. Another t-time then, P-Potter.”

Nodding his head with no real intention of ever following it up, Harry left the room.

OOOOOOO

Having passed the gargoyle with yet another ridiculous password of the week, Severus Snape knocked gently on the door before entering.

 “Ah. Severus my boy, come in, come in,” Dumbledore smiled, looking up from his desk as the potions master entered. “Sherbet Lemon?”

 “No thank you. You wished to see me?” he asked, standing in front of the headmaster and hoping this would only be a short conversation.

Dumbledore nodded, gesturing for him to take a seat.

 “How are things, Severus?”

 “Fine. Is this purely a social call, Albus? I have classes to prepare–” he began impatiently.

 “I understand, Severus. You are a busy man. I simply wished to know if everything is… okay? Between yourself and young Harry?” the older wizard enquired.

Severus resisted the urge to sigh.

 “The boy appears to be suffering from early onset teenage hormones,” he said, flatly. “He has reverted to true form and has, for the past week or so, behaved much like his father. An arrogant, insolent–”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Come now, Severus. Is this same the boy that was curled up in your lap not two weeks prior?”

 “Potter was not curled up in my lap,” Snape growled. “And in any case, it would appear that the brat has finally grown tired of harassing me and moved on. This has come not a moment too soon for me.”

 “You don’t truly believe that,” the headmaster replied – it sounded more like a statement than a question.

 “I can assure you, that is exactly what I believe.”

 “Did something happen between the two of you? A disagreement?” Dumbledore asked.

 “Nothing to my knowledge. That child is a spoiled, ungrateful miniature of James Potter, and I am pleased to say I will now be able to return my guestroom to its former state,” Snape told him.

 “As you wish, Severus, as you wish… I’m sure the boy will be fine, of course. In fact, I hear he was late to Transfiguration this morning, on account of the fact Quirinus kept him behind after class,” he said.

 “What does that possibly have to do with me Albus?”

 “Nothing, nothing, of course…  I was simply making the point that it is good to know Harry has other adults he can rely on,” Dumbledore told him. “Quirinus invited him to have tea with him this evening. Terribly nice of him, don’t you think?”

Snape bristled. “That oaf would do anything to say he has drunk tea with The-Boy-Who-Lived. If I remember correctly, he was relentlessly unkind to Potter last term.”

 “Perhaps he is simply trying to make amends, Severus,” the headmaster shrugged. “And from what you have said, you are glad to be rid of young Harry, so I shouldn’t let it concern you too much.”

Snape stood up. “Indeed.”

Dumbledore smiled – one of his more irritating expressions. “Have a pleasant evening, my boy.”

He nearly responded, but thought better of it, instead heading back towards the door.

 “Oh, Severus? There was one more thing…” the headmaster began.

 “Yes?” Snape turned back to look at him.

Dumbledore examined him for a moment before he spoke again.

 “When were you going to tell me that you’d been visiting the boy for years?”

OOOOOOO