A few months later Severus stood quietly in the back corner of his classroom. He was not immediately noticed by the seventh years who bent over their cauldrons and he raked the class with his gaze trying to decide which of them he should sweep down upon first and who would be the first to lose points. His eyes settled on Potter. Certainly it would be most satisfying to take points from him, but would it be better to do it immediately or to wait a bit longer?

As Snape studied the young man he noted absently the easy way he prepared the boomslang skin. It was almost as though he was already familiar with this particular potion. For a fleeting instant Severus could see that Potter might have been quite good at potions with the right encouragement. Was it possible that that talent had come from him? That he had passed on his own ability to his son? What might it have been like, to have gotten to know the boy? Or perhaps even to have raised him as his own? Then he saw the knowing, mischievous grin he shared with Granger. It was pure Potter.

With a snarl he stalked off toward another student and proceeded to berate them for poor technique. It wasn’t until much later, when he had successfully chased all sentimental wishes completely out of mind that he found a reason to take points from Potter, but when he did Gryffindor’s standing dropped rather significantly.

Several weeks after that, Harry was wandering around the school. It was quite late, after curfew even for seventh years, but Harry couldn’t sleep so he had slipped his invisibility cloak on and set out to walk through the corridors. He was inexplicably drawn to the dungeons, as he had been for some time now. It seemed his feet carried him down to the depths of the school every time his mind stopped actively guiding him away.

Suddenly, as he approached a corner, he heard voices. Harry slowed and crept carefully to peer around the stones. There he saw a Slytherin standing in some distress. The child was quite young, perhaps a first or second year, and she was trying valiantly to suppress the tears tracking down her face. Harry was just striding forward, thinking of taking his cloak off and comforting the girl when he saw Professor Snape approaching from the other end of the hallway.

He froze.

Harry’s first impulse was to run, but he was reluctant to leave the younger student to the mercies of Snape. Granted she was a Slytherin, but still…and as Snape couldn’t actually see him…

He was surprised when the greasy potions master did not immediately take points, and shocked beyond words when the man knelt next to the little girl. “Nightmares again?” he asked in a gentle voice.

She simply nodded.

“Do you wish to talk about it this time?”

She shook her head vigorously.

Snape sighed and looked around as though searching for an answer.

“You know you can trust me,” he said to her.

She did not reply.

“Perhaps next time,” he said softly, as though to himself. “Come,” Severus said to the child before him, “I will give you a potion to let you sleep the rest of the night. And perhaps the house elves can be persuaded to bring a mug of cocoa as well.”

The girl looked carefully at him and nodded. Harry looked on, gobsmacked, as Snape stood and offered the little girl his hand to lead her to his office. He continued to stand there as the young Slytherin grabbed onto her professor’s longer fingers and followed him trustingly.