Chapter 33

Rooibos and Pu'erh Tao Cha

xxx

Though Harry had faced many more formidable foes in the past, he couldn't help but to be a bit worried after watching Hufflepuff's Friday night Quidditch practice with Ron. Gryffindor had made some excellent additions to their team this year, yes, but the House of the Badger had made some considerably better ones.

Two sixth years that no one had ever seen play before were now in the beater's positions, and these two boys were far from weak. They worked in synchronization that rivaled even that of Fred and George Weasley, and they hit with the same precision that Slytherin House often depended on to defeat the other team. In addition to these two came a small second year girl, who, though shy and quiet looking at first, shone when she entered the field. She kept a level temper with her teammates, but as a seeker, seemed to be waging a war against the silver and gold snitch. She rode a well preserved Nimbus 2001, and while it paled in comparison to Harry's Firebolt, he worried that her small stature would still give her an advantage.

Always overlooked, no one suspected that Hufflepuff would be rising to become such a strong house. However, it seemed that the death of Cedric had spurred them forth to prove that their house was about much more than loyalty and kindness. The events of the previous year had allowed no house to shine, of course, but things were back to normal now, and competition (when it came to Quidditch) was fiercer than ever. They were certainly rising to meet the challenge.

"I'm not worried," Ron proclaimed boldly as they briskly walked back up the castle. "Their new additions beat ours, undeniably, but their keeper isn't that good."

"Well, I'd say that's a bit judgmental," Harry said, smiling. "Coming from you, that is, the world's greatest keeper."

"I'm not saying I'm the best," Ron countered defensively. "I'm just- well I am quite a bit better, yeah. But that's not the point; we've got a great trio of chasers, Harry."

"Yeah, but they've got two beaters that are going to make it extremely difficult for said trio," Harry objected. "And a seeker that might end the game before our chasers can do enough damage."

"You know what the best strategy is, then," Ron said, turning to Harry.

Harry nodded. "Get the snitch right away."

"Yeah, don't dawdle like you usually do," said a playful voice from behind. Harry and Ron turned around to find Hermione and Ginny heading towards them, laughing with each other.

"Where were you two?" Ron asked, looking back and forth between his sister and best friend, who exchanged a look.

"Maybe it's none of your business," Ginny replied haughtily, taking up stride with Harry and linking arms with him. Harry's eyes widened quickly as he looked down at their now joined arms, but Ginny didn't notice.

"Oh, hush up, Ginny, you'll make them think we were up to something," Hermione replied, looking around Harry to make eye contact with Ginny, who winked.

"What were you doing?" Harry asked. His interest was now piqued.

"Well," Ginny started casually, twirling her hair with her free hand. "We were just taking a walk, when we spied a very amusing sight. Imagine our surprise when we were circling the Quidditch stands while the Hufflepuffs practiced for the upcoming match, and we spotted two Gryffindor boys, covertly dressed in maroon and gold jumpers and sporting locks of raven and red."

"Honestly, you two, taking up the very same Slytherin tactics that you complained about for years," said Hermione, shaking her head.

"I think you've been spending too much time around Snape," Ginny said to Harry, laughing.

"Ah, and Mr. Weasley's excuse?" Harry drawled, raising his eyebrows in an uncanny likeness to his father, causing Ginny to burst into giggles.

"Oh, that was so good! Do another!"

From their other side, Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing looks.

xxx

Somehow, Severus was unsurprised to witness the shameless flirting of his son and one Miss Ginny Weasley as he watched the four Gryffindors return to the castle from the window in Professor McGonagall's office. She reminded him strikingly of Lily at that age; she had the same fiery temper and hair to match it. She wasn't a bad student, either. He supposed that being the only girl in her family made her eager to prove her ability to succeed, much as Lily's muggle heritage had inspired her to do.

Severus shook his head and checked the time. Minerva had requested that he join her in her office that afternoon, though he couldn't imagine why. He hadn't unjustly punished or failed any of her precious Gryffindor students as of late, and she wasn't normally the type to have one around for tea and a friendly chat… not that he would have enjoyed that. Conversation with the Head of Gryffindor was not one of Severus' favorite pastimes; while he was polite to the woman, he had never particularly liked being around his former professor.

"Excellent, Professor, you're already here," McGonagall said as she briskly entered her office. She wasted no time in taking a seat and inviting him to do the same.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Minerva?" Severus returned, inclining his head to the side. He was careful to keep the sneer out of his voice and off his face, but as usual, started by addressing her by her first name, just to remind her that they were colleagues now, not teacher and pupil.

"Well, I see no point in exchanging pointless pleasantries, as I know you so loathe doing, Severus, so I'll get straight to the point." McGonagall sat forward and neatly folded her hands on her desk. Severus inwardly commented that she did a very poor job of imitating the Headmaster and his gestures.

"I must confess to you, Severus, that I am curious about the surplus time you and Potter have been spending together as of late. The alibi of Occlumency lessons satisfied me for some time, but when Potter began asking for you in the middle of the night and disappearing to your rooms for entire nights… well, you can hardly blame me when I say I've become suspicious."

Severus sat rigidly in his chair, grinding his teeth irritably. How dare this woman imply such a sordid thing to him? Sure, he was a Death Eater, but he wasn't that twisted. "Have you spoken to the Headmaster about these… suspicions?" Severus asked, curling his lip.

"The Headmaster has indicated to me that there is nothing… inappropriate occurring between you and the boy," McGonagall confessed, nodding. Severus tetchily wondered to himself why she had bothered bringing it up, in that case.

"He has also indicated to me that if I wish to learn what has happened between you and the boy, that I am to ask one of you."

So, the Headmaster had to be given credit there, Severus thought to himself. At least he had finally seen fit to stay out of Severus' affairs. Of course, now he was left with this highly uncomfortable situation, but he preferred it to the alternative.

Severus inhaled deeply and rubbed the back of his neck, rising from his seat and moving slowly towards the window. "If you truly must know, Minerva," he began, his tone a mixture of weariness and aggravation. "Do you recall my failed marriage with Lily Evans?"

"I do," McGonagall returned stiffly, nodding. It was no secret that she had disapproved of the coupling; she had never liked, nor trusted, Severus, and Lily had been her star Gryffindor, not unlike Hermione Granger.

"It is widely believed that it ended because she was unfaithful to me, or as phrased by some, that she finally saw the light," Severus paused here, willing the malice out of his tone. It would do no good to lose his temper due to mistakes of the past. "Even I had believed this."

Severus turned to face McGonagall. "During the few weeks before term, I learned the true reason for our failure. Lily discovered that I'd taken the Dark Mark, and pregnant, decided that she would tell me it was James' child, to help them both escape what seemed to be a dark future. She lied. It wasn't James' child."

The color slowly drained from McGonagall's face, and Severus indulged in a smirk of satisfaction. Yes, Minerva,, he thought to himself, relishing in her shocked expression. You may pride yourself on being Harry Potter's Head of House, but I am his father. Are you glad you asked?

"I'm assuming this means you are the boy's...father," McGonagall said, recovering herself and adopting an evaluating expression.

"You assume correctly," Severus said, nodding, and biting back on the snide remarks that came to mind.

"The boy knows, then?" McGonagall questioned, making it sound more like a statement.

"He does."

"And how is he taking it?"

"Well, Albus and I hope the suicide attempts will desist soon, but one can never tell," Severus retorted smartly, narrowing his eyes and curling his lip.

"I should hope that was sarcasm," McGonagall said in relative admonishment, rising from her chair and placing her hands flat on her desk.

"You act as if it would be the end of the boy's life, Minerva."

"Well," McGonagall sniffed, crossing her arms. "I would like to believe that you could have a bit more sensitivity towards him, Severus. He took so much pride in being James Potter's son, and now that's been taken from him!"

"Yes, it must have been extremely upsetting to find out that the black-hearted git Professor Snape was his father, rather than the noble James Potter," Severus sneered, though he believed what he said. "I have been considerate enough, Minerva, and I believe he has moved past that small detail… though I fail to see how that is any of your concern."

"I am his Head of House, it's my responsibility to see that he's being treated well."

"Oh, and you've done such a wonderful job protecting him from the neglect and verbal abuse of his relatives these past 16 years!" Severus snapped, taking a step forward. "Admit it, Minerva. You don't think I'm capable of handling a child, and the last thing you or anyone else wants to see is the vanguard for the Light being steered towards darkness by the misbegotten Severus Snape!"

"Severus, I-"

"Do not try to deny it, Minerva," Severus growled, glaring heatedly down at her. "You've never liked nor trusted me. You've proven that today by admitting that you went to Albus Dumbledore with the belief that I was taking advantage of a young boy in my care."

"You would have done the same," McGonagall with forced calm, shaking her head.

"No, I would have had the decency to confront you or the student in question before slandering the name of a colleague to my employer," Snape hissed.

"My apologies, Severus," McGonagall responded tersely. "But we can't all be as honorable and dignified as you are."

"I've never claimed to be either one of those things," Severus replied. "However, I am amply perceptive- enough to act with a sense of decorum. But rest assured, I understand- your Gryffindor boldness spurs you to act quickly, rather than give thought to the repercussions of your actions, a trait that apparently doesn't diminish with age."

McGonagall looked as though she were about to retort angrily, but Severus had had enough.

"I thank you for your concern for Harry, Minerva," Severus said in mock graciousness, giving her an exaggerated bow of the head. "But I assure you, he is safe in my hands. Now, I believe this concludes our little meeting, so if you'll excuse me."

"I'm not sure we've found our conclusion, Severus," McGonagall objected, looking mildly offended.

"Oh, I'm quite sure we have." Severus gave her an ill-mannered smile and opened the door. "Harry normally tries to find his way down to my office on afternoons like this, and I'd hate to miss him."

He was deliberately angering her, and he knew it. He didn't normally use his relationship with Harry to goad people like this; he could imagine the boy would be quite upset with him if he found out that he had- but he couldn't resist. The look on her face as he alluded to their relationship was priceless. He found himself quite enjoying her reaction.

"After all," he continued, exiting into the corridor, "I have to make up for the fact that I am sadly not James Potter."

"No, you're not," McGonagall said icily, following him to the door. "And don't forget that. A biological relationship doesn't make one a father, I hope you realize."

"I quite understand that, Minerva," Severus replied easily. And it was the truth. He knew he had to atone for his previous treatment of the young man, and he knew he had to atone for the way he had treated the child's mother, and the fact that he hadn't been there for either one of them. He was determined to do so.

"Severus," McGonagall finally called, one last time, as he strode down the corridor. The pleading note in her voice made him reluctantly turn around, ready to receive her words. "Please treat him well. The child cannot handle many more disappointments. The wounds he has are far deeper than the surface."

Severus hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to reply. Taking a look around the corridor to check that they were alone, he decided to appease the woman. "And I intend to heal them," he stated simply. "Good day, Minerva."

And with that, he turned and strode towards his office, hoping that Harry would be there when he arrived.

xxx

Harry didn't disappoint. When Severus arrived at his office door, Harry was sitting cross legged in front of his door, munching contentedly on a biscuit. Severus rolled his eyes and wondered if he should first reprimand Harry for sitting on the dirty floor, or for munching on sweets not an hour before lunch. He decided against both.

"Comfortable?" He inquired, amused as Harry looked up at him and shrugged.

"Not particularly," Harry replied, getting up off the floor and dusting off his trousers. "But I figured you would be along soon, and I had biscuits to keep me busy, so I thought I'd wait."

Severus didn't know quite how to respond to this, so he settled for an amused, "Ah," and unlocked his office door.

"Allow me to gather some homework assignments that need grading, and then we'll have tea in my quarters," said Severus. "I generally prefer natural light to candlelight on days such as this."

"'Kay,", Harry agreed, spewing crumbs as he spoke. He looked sheepishly at the floor, and then at Severus, hoping he hadn't noticed. He swallowed the rest of his treat and then closed the door. "Do you want me to lock this, sir?"

"Do you know how?" Severus asked doubtfully, looking over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow at Harry. He wondered if the boy didn't think he would notice the biscuit crumbs trailing down the front of his shirt and littering the floor.

"Well, no," Harry replied, looking back at the door. "But you could teach me. Not so I could break in or anything!" he defended himself as Severus gave him another skeptical look. "Just, you said if I ever wanted to see you, I could come to your rooms, and what if I come through that door and need to lock it behind me?"

Severus shook his head and smiled lightly as he finished gathering the essays into his arms. "It doesn't need to be locked- I doubt any students will find their way into my office on such a day. Most generally avoid my area of the castle, and those who don't aren't of any concern."

"Your Slytherins, sir?"

"They know me too well to intrude," Severus said, opening the door leading to the corridor to his quarters, "And I'm alerted when someone enters my office. Oh yes, and I will charm it to open to you, if you'd like."

"Yes, then I won't have to sit in front of the door, dirtying up my clothes," Harry said, smiling. "I know that bothers you."

"No, by all means," Severus replied, waving his free hand. "If you'd like dirt and other bits of filth on your clothing, be my guest. I wouldn't want to oppress you and begrudge you the right to use the floor as a chair."

"Thank you," Harry laughed. "I appreciate that."

They reached Severus' door and after muttering the password, quickly entered so that Severus could set down the papers that were close to falling out of his arms.

"You know, you could have just used your wand and levitated those," Harry said thoughtfully, putting on a kettle of water.

"Just as you could use your wand and heat that," Severus retorted, indicating the kettle.

"I did use my wand," Harry replied, frowning at the pot.

"To warm the kettle, not the water inside. We'll still have to wait."

"I'm convinced that tea tastes better when you heat the water slowly," Harry said, giving Severus a look. "Just like in the muggle world; it tastes better if you use a stovetop to heat the water than it does if you just heat the water in the microwave."

"The what?" Severus asked, looking appalled.

"Never mind," Harry muttered, selecting a tin of peppermint tea.

"Did you just swear at me?" Severus probed, narrowing his eyes.

"No!" Harry exclaimed, laughing. "It's a- it's like a box, and you put things in it, and the light heats it up."

"How odd," Severus commented, settling himself in his favorite chair. He truthfully wasn't that interested in muggle appliances, but he knew he was entertaining Harry, and he found himself indulging in the small amount of happiness he could bring the boy simply by responding with the slightest interest.

"Do you want peppermint, lemon, or this one that I can't pronounce?" Harry asked from across the room.

"Does the one you can't pronounce begin with a P or an R?" Severus asked, shaking his head.

"Er- R" Harry responded, lifting the canister and squinting at the curvy scrawl. "The other one is mostly empty."

"I'll have that one, then," Severus said decidedly, marking a sloppily written essay with an automatic T. In the future, take care to ensure your essay's readability, Severus wrote in the side margin. You're hardly intelligent enough for me to give you benefit of the doubt.

Severus considered to himself that he was much better at being caustic when Harry wasn't around. He set aside the essay for further commentary later that evening.

"Out of curiosity," Severus started, looking around at Harry, "how did you think that tea was pronounced?"

"Er-" Harry muttered, looking down at the canister again. "Roo-boose," he pronounced slowly, eliciting a chocking sound from Severus. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Well, how is it pronounced, then?"

"It's Roo-ih-bus," Severus enunciated slowly, exaggerating the movements of his mouth. "Rooibos Chai, to be more specific."

"Well, I'm terribly sorry for not knowing my teas," Harry said, having the grace to feign a look of shame.

"Well, you'll learn if you're to take up residence with me," Severus promised him, raising an eyebrow. "Rooibos is one of those teas you should certainly be familiar with. It's a red tea, rich with antioxidants and low in tannin. It's also naturally decaffeinated, which is extremely convenient, considering the trouble I already have sleeping."

"That is very fascinating," Harry said politely, if not a touch mockingly. Severus glared at him, but said nothing more. Harry was quite relieved; he hardly cared about tea, especially when Severus made it sound more like a complex potion than a relaxing drink.

Harry poured the tea and turned back to him, only to find that he was still fixing him with an unsettling, yet somewhat expectant, glare.

"Yes?"

"Aren't you going to ask about the other tea?"

"Fine," Harry sighed. "How is the other pronounced?"

"That is Pu'erh Tuo Cha," Severus said, looking self satisfied. "It is a Chinese tea of the Oolong grouping; it's not widely known, nor enjoyed. However, there is a certain delicacy to a tea which must be so methodically prepared-"

"Like a potion," said Harry.

"A bit like a potion, yes," Severus agreed, nodding his head once to the side.

"What does it taste like?" Harry asked. He could detect a hint of cinnamon and ginger in the Rooibos tea Severus was sipping, but the leaves in the other canister had held a very unique scent, one Harry didn't recall having experienced before.

"I doubt you would like it," Severus said. "It has a rich, earthy flavor; more so than any other tea, it has the essence of the soil in which it was grown. It also improves with age, like wine, which I find to be a particularly interesting property."

"You would," Harry commented, laughing a little.

"I would what?"

"Find an interesting property in tea… I don't know. Do you relate everything to potions?"

"No."

Harry laughed again. There was a long, comfortable silence, in which the only sounds where Harry's small sighs and the angry scratching of Severus' quill upon the essays of unwitting young students.

"You are aware that next weekend, there is a Hogsmeade trip scheduled," Severus said after some time, addressing Harry.

"Umm, yeah," Harry said unsurely, not knowing where this was headed.

"I think it would be unwise for you to attend," Severus said. The warning note in his voice told Harry that far from a request, this was a command.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, unwilling to start an argument he was sure to lose. Oddly, it felt fitting… he had often wished someone would tell him to make good choices, so that he wouldn't have to make them voluntarily. It was much easier to resist temptation when he knew he had someone to answer to, and honestly, he didn't think it was a good idea either.

"Not only will Voldemort be ten times more fervent in his pursuit of you, now that he knows he'd be killing two birds with one proverbial stone, but also, we have yet to deal with your display of disobedience."

Harry groaned loudly. "That was weeks ago..."

"It was one week ago, and I do not forget," Severus replied.

"Well, no use in delaying the inevitable," Harry replied grudgingly, turning around. "What'll it be? The rack or the shackles?"

"Don't tempt me," Severus growled, narrowing his eyes.

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

"Yes, you seem it," Severus responded, caustically.

"Well, have you decided my sentence?"

"Why are you so eager to be punished?"

"I just don't like worrying about it," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "And I'm not new to discipline."

"Ah, yes," Severus said, nodding. "Those relatives of yours. Well, I assure you I will neither starve you nor lock you in any confined spaces," he said darkly, his expression twisted into one of revulsion. "And believe me; I will have a few words to say to those muggles about their neglect and borderline abuse of you in past years, once the opportunity presents itself."

Harry barely had the time to feel grateful towards his father before he continued, "No, the punishment I've thought up is much more creative in nature, and a bit more humane." He paused to smile forebodingly before continuing. "You will not be allowed to leave the castle grounds or my home until Boxing Day, and you will, over the holiday, construct a series of three essays for me. Each will be two feet in length, and touch on the topics of conduct, consequences, and choosing better courses of action. Your prompts will, of course, be more specific, but you may wait until the Holiday to find out exactly what they are."

"Why?"

"Because I want them done when I know you won't have the opportunity for outside help."

Harry didn't respond after that, willing the tension in the room to die down before he approached the next topic of conversation.

"So," Harry awkwardly said several moments later, as he set the tea down on the low table and took a seat on the couch. "We have a match against Hufflepuff this weekend," he offered, hoping Severus would offer to come without Harry having to ask.

"I'm aware," Severus replied, purposely keeping his eyes trained on the papers in front of him. He was curious to see whether or not Harry really wanted him there; surely, if he did, he would ask. He didn't want to intrude on Harry's life- he'd hardly earned the right, and wasn't quite sure how to behave as a parent attending a child's Quidditch match. He knew he couldn't bring himself to cheer and wave a little Gryffindor banner in a parody of support.

"I- er- I know your House isn't playing…" Harry started, hoping Severus would use his sharp intellect to guess where this was heading and answer the unasked question.

"Keen observation," Severus muttered, raising an eyebrow. He heard Harry swallow, and realized how uncomfortable he was making the boy. For some inexplicable reason, he was enjoying it. Let the boy have a taste of how it felt to charge past the line between familiar territory and uncertain association. It might remind him of how difficult it was for Severus to know how to behave at times.

"I- willyoucome?" Harry blurted out in a rush, color rising in his cheeks despite his effort to suppress it.

Severus slowly lifted his eyes from his work and looked at Harry with an innocent, unwitting expression. "Pardon?"

"You heard me," Harry mumbled, staring down into his tea.

Severus felt an odd mix of guilt and amusement at Harry's embarrassment. "No, I'm afraid I didn't. These essays are quite captivating; you must realize my attention is divided."

There was a playful smirk twisting Severus' lips, making Harry realize that the man knew exactly what was going on, and had for some while. The realization that Severus was purposely drawing this out of him put him at ease somewhat; it meant he wanted Harry to ask him. He supposed that if he were in Severus' position, he'd feel the same way.

Harry relaxed his shoulders and took a breath, before saying with more security, "I'd like it if you came."

Severus rewarded him with a softened, appreciative gaze, but responded, "You realize I have absolutely no idea how to cheer or encourage one during a Quidditch match."

"I understand that," Harry said, nodding. "I'd just like if you came… it would be enough, if you came."

"Then you may be assured that I will be present," Severus said softly, giving him a gracious nod.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly. "Should I leave you to your work?"

"Actually," Severus said, in an amused tone indicating to Harry that he probably wouldn't be pleased with what was said next. "I believe you have a Potions essay due on Tuesday."

"Oh," Harry said, looking towards the Potions books Severus had gestured to. "Well, I can do that later this weekend-"

"I think not," Severus said incredulously, raising his eyebrows. "Assuming you win the Quidditch match tomorrow, you'll most likely spend all of Saturday night celebrating, and basking in your glory on Sunday. Don't deny it!" he said, raising a finger as Harry opened his mouth to argue.

"That will leave Monday night for you to spend an incredibly long time procrastinating, until finally, at an hour during which you should be getting to bed, Mr. Weasley and you will seek the help of one Hermione Granger, who will grudgingly assist you. You will then spend the entire next day falling asleep in your classes due to your finishing the essay at three A.M. If you think I will allow that to happen, you are sadly mistaken. Get to work," he finished threateningly, pointing towards the books. At Harry's hesitation, he rolled his eyes and raised his voice to a much more dangerous, "Now!"

Harry quickly complied, rising and fetching the books along with a scroll of unused parchment and some quills. He couldn't help but wonder to himself just how Severus had managed to figure out his homework routine.

"And Harry," Severus called, causing the boy to jump and quickly turn around. "If you finish while you're here…" he said, considering the matter even as he spoke. "I may be willing read it over and give you a few suggestions."

"Er- thank you, sir," Harry said, unable to hide his shock at this rather kind offer.

Severus shrugged dismissively.

"It's not as if you wouldn't ask Miss Granger to do it anyways."

At the amused but knowing look in Severus' sideways glance, Harry smiled and turned back to his work. It certainly was eerie; the man's knowledge knew no boundaries.

xxx

Harry had held an impromptu practice the night before, but he wasn't at all sure it would help. To his chagrin, he had found that his team had become quite confident in themselves, and when practice didn't go well, they shrugged it off and reasoned that adrenaline would win them the match the next day.

So, here Harry was standing, in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, with everyone watching, worried out of his mind that their skills wouldn't compare to Hufflepuff's. His strategy was simple: catch the snitch as soon as possible and hope Ron's keeping skills didn't fail.

It was an awful day for Quidditch, Harry reflected as he waited for Madame Hooch to finish checking the balls for any hexes or curses. The first snow of the season hadn't come yet, but it was cold enough that Harry wouldn't have been surprised if a full blown blizzard hit. He could only imagine how much further the temperatures would drop once he increased altitude. He absentmindedly pulled his worn gloves to fit more snuggly on his hands, while pondering how the use of a warming charm on the handle of his broom might affect its flying ability. He looked up to where Snape was seated in the stands and made note to ask him after the match.

xxx

Severus had never minded attending Quidditch matches before; as he'd normally only attended those of his own house, and the ones at the very end of the season, he hadn't been expected to sit with those supporting Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Now, however, he found himself unhappily sandwiched between Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and worst of all, Hagrid.

He had, of course, attempted to resist, but they would have none of it. Minerva seemed to have softened considerably after their last encounter. Any semblance of ill will she may have had before had disappeared; though she had appeared wary when he'd first appeared, she'd warmed substantially when Severus had explained that he'd come to support his son. Pleased by this, she and Hagrid had all but dragged him to their preferred seats, followed by a chuckling Headmaster.

Even from his high seat in the stands, Severus could see the anxiety on Harry's face. He hadn't confessed his apprehension the previous day, when they'd discussed the Hufflepuff team, but Harry's nervous habits of twisting his sleeve and sighing more than necessary gave him away. Of course, Severus had heard Professor Sprout bragging quite a bit about her team's improvements, but he hadn't shared that with Harry. He'd listened patiently as Harry described all his best strategies, and though he didn't offer any better ones, he'd helped him rule out those that seemed least likely to work. He hoped he'd see that pay off today.

"It's a rather cold day for a Quidditch match," McGonagall commented from beside Severus, rubbing her hands together and casting a warming spell over her cloak.

Severus nodded. "Yes, one of the unfortunate things about Quidditch is that its range of variables exceeds strength of the players and quality of brooms," he agreed. "But I've never seen the boy fail due to harsh conditions, I'll give him that. No doubt he'll land himself in the hospital wing if necessary, but he'll do what he must."

Their conversation paused for a moment as the whistle was blown and the brooms rose into the air. They watched for a short while as the Quaffle was passed back and forth between the Gryffindor chasers, before being purposely intercepted by one of the Hufflepuff beaters. Harry sat above, scanning the skies intently.

"Why, Severus, if I didn't know better, I'd say that's a touch of pride I hear in your voice," Minerva replied, barely concealing a smile.

"Well," Severus said quietly, looking down. "I am proud."

"Why do you sound ashamed of it?"

Severus' expression became a pensive frown, and he shifted his jaw thoughtfully. Being a private person, he resented the intrusive and analytical nature of McGonagall's question. He felt compelled to answer, however, out of some (however grudging) need to smooth over their argument from the days prior. "I suppose," Severus said slowly, "it reflects how wrong I may have been about the boy. For five years I saw what I wanted to see, not what was… for all the faults the boy has, his motivations certainly are not what they appeared to be."

"He has Lily's ability to forgive," Minerva commented, eyes trained on Ron as he prepared to block a goal. "Everyone deserves the chance to be forgiven, Severus. Even you."

Severus snorted at the audacity of her statement, and Minerva allowed a full smile to show; it was incalculable whether it was in response to Weasley's successful block of the Quaffle or to Severus' ever so quaint expression of amusement.

"Leave it to a Gryffindor to get sentimental in the middle of a Quidditch match," Severus quipped sardonically, glancing sideways at her through narrowed eyes.

"Speaking of which," Minerva said once the Quaffle had reached midfield again. "I should apologize for my behavior yesterday."

Yes, you should, Severus thought to himself, but he didn't say as much.

"I was… I suppose I was out of line. I-" she paused for a moment, and then looked at him, eyebrow raised. "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

The corners of Severus' mouth twitched upward as he shot her a sideways glance and shook his head.

"I'd expected as much," she said, nodding. "I can see you've taken a vested interest in Harry's life, Severus. I can't tell you how long I've wished someone would. I, of course, have tried to keep an eye on him, but I believe it's very different from the benefit he receives from having you as a… as a father. I must say, this is the longest I've ever seen him go without getting into some sort of trouble."

"Minerva, last week he joined Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy, left the grounds unaccompanied by an adult, traveled to another town, and went into a place where he knew a group of Death Eaters to be gathered. Now please, if you don't consider that some sort of trouble, give me your reasons so I may revoke the punishment I have given him."

Strangely, this drew a laugh from her. "Well, I suppose you have a point," Minerva admitted, inclining her head. "But I expect that from him, by now. I was speaking of the fact that he has had all of his homework turned in, hasn't received a detention since the start of the year, and his grades have even improved. He must care for your approval, Severus. I can see no other explanation for these improvements. Having someone to answer to has done him some good."

For a long time, they watched the match in relative silence. Severus hadn't realized how well Harry had been doing, if truth were told. He'd never followed the boy's academic successes or failures before now, so he hadn't realized there had been an improvement. He'd always figured he was the only one to give detentions to the boy-who-lived, but from the sound of it, this wasn't true. Maybe he was doing something right after all.

"What was your punishment for him, by the way?" Minerva asked as Gryffindor blocked another goal. So far, neither team had managed to score any points; Harry was still circling the field, watching for a glint of gold and silver.

"He's to stay on the castle grounds, and during the Holidays my home, until Boxing day."

"Not a terrible sentence," Minerva commented, looking surprised.

"Well, I thought he'd like to spend Boxing Day with the Weasleys, and I'm not determined to make this Holiday like the others he's had," Severus responded, before allowing himself a half smile. "Besides, I've specified that over the Holidays he shall have three essays to complete, two feet in length."

Minerva laughed. "Leave it to you to give him one of his least favorite things to do as punishment."

"That is the point."

"How did he react?"

Severus paused for a moment. "He didn't."

"Surprising," Minerva said.

"Considering the punishments he's received in the past, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest." Severus said, shaking his head. "But that's a topic best left untouched, if I'm to congratulate my son on his victory a short while from now," he said, pointing to the sky. "I do believe the boy has sighted the snitch."

xxx

Harry was beginning to think this match would last for hours when he finally saw it. His reaction was the same as always; a small part of his heart leapt into his throat, quickening its pace as adrenaline pounded its way through his system. He threw a quick glance at the other seeker, assessing whether or not she had seen it. She was still circling, but her speed might win out if she realized what Harry was on to; she was closer to the snitch.

Pulling up on the handle of his broom, Harry accelerated upward, shooting into the mass of clouds hovering over the Quidditch pitch. Before long, he could hear her close behind, gaining speed. She sped past him with ease; his estimation that her small stature would push her to higher speeds had been correct.

Losing her in the whitish haze, Harry took a deep dive down to the clearer area of the skies. Arriving there, he was elated to find it hadn't zoomed off; the snitch hung, glinting and glittering like a pretty, elusive little bird… right next to the stands where Dumbledore, McGonagall, and most importantly, his father, were all seated.

A smile illuminating his face, he took off in a moment of quick decision. He could hear the girl behind him, but he would get there first. If the snitch had been hovering anywhere else around the field, he might not have been so determined, but for a very viable reason indeed, he felt he had to succeed now. He would not fail; this game was his for the taking, and his father would be right there to witness it. Ever since he'd found out his father had had a position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a boy, he'd always played with the subconscious desire that his father could be there to witness it; he'd always wished someone would be there to be proud, friends and teachers aside. He'd always denied this feeling because it had seemed selfish; he had so many people to admire him, and yet he yearned for the attention of only one.

Still, now that he had that chance, he couldn't pass it up. Who his father was made no difference; it only mattered that his father was here.

He was close now; a mere fifteen meters, if he had to judge.

Not that the determinedly evasive snitch would allow him such an easy victory.

As if it had eyes and could see Harry approaching, it zipped around to the other side of the stand. Thinking quickly, Harry hastily changed direction with his broom and aimed to meet it around the other side. Years of experience were apparently on his side, as he was not disappointed. The snitch discontinued its 360 loop around the stand and took an upwards turn; Harry followed at an almost frighteningly vertical incline, only to reach the top of the stand and head down again.

If Harry had ever had any desire to visit a muggle theme park and ride a roller coaster, that urge quickly saw itself out of Harry's head as he flew over that stand and straight down its front. Not for the first time, he had to choose whether colliding with the ground was a fair price to pay for catching the snitch, and not for the first time, he decided it was.

The other seeker was diving, attempting to reach the ground before he did, but he was too close. He already had the angle and acceleration on his side, and was hurdling towards the ground at a much faster rate.

Almost there, Harry kept one hand steady on his broom, ready to pull up as soon as he had the snitch; his other hand he extended, preparing to catch it. He wasn't far from hitting the green pitch at full speed- he could tell it was risky by the shocked gasps coming from the crowd as the other seeker pulled out her dive and he continued. He didn't care, for within a moment, he'd captured it; the snitch was his.

Seconds from colliding with the hard ground, he tugged his broom upwards and rose into the air, the little ball held high and tight in his hand. He threw a fist into the air in victory and got ready to circle the pitch.

Before he did, he looked at Severus.

"Well done," the man mouthed, allowing a smile to grace his face, if only for a second. Harry broke out into a wide, toothy grin, nodded his thanks, and joined his teammates in the victory lap.

xxx

Harry dressed as quickly as possible after the match. He wanted to see Severus before he headed back to Gryffindor Tower, which wasn't turning out to be easy with all the back pats and words of praise his fellow teammates were still bestowing upon him. He wasn't quite sure why they were making a bigger deal out of this win than they had the others; he wondered if it was because he was the only one to score any points.

The game hadn't been dragged out too late into the evening, so Harry figured he might be able to stall for about an hour before joining the busy common room festivities.

Severus was just joining Dumbledore and McGonagall, having finally gathered the last of his Slytherins and sent them off to the castle. Harry pushed through the crowd, stopping a few times to accept compliments from other classmates. Finally, he found his way to the rear and found himself standing in front of the three professors, who looked at him expectantly.

Suddenly, Harry realized he had planned everything up to the part where he was supposed to talk. Now he was drawing a blank.

"Erm… hello," he improvised lamely.

Severus quirked half his mouth into a smile. Harry thought to himself that it still looked like a smirk. "Impressive," Severus said dryly, knowing Harry wouldn't be able to figure out whether he meant the performance or his sudden lack of words.

"Er- thanks," Harry said, looking off to the side. He was acutely aware of the lingering presence of the other two professors. "Thanks for coming."

Feeling rather awkward in front of his colleague and superior, he gave them a nod of departure and steered Harry forward. "It was my pleasure," he intoned, once they were out of hearing range.

Harry figured that was the extent of praise he was going to receive. Still, it was sufficient.

Harry scratched his head and started uneasily, "So, I was thinking about Hogsmeade-"

"We already discussed this," Severus said in a low voice, quick to put an end to any ideas Harry might have about getting off his punishment.

"Yes, I know," Harry said. "But-"

Gods, the boy could be impertinent. Severus fixed him with a stern glare, but Harry continued.

"It's just, if I don't go to Hogsmeade, I can't see how I'm going to get gifts for everyone for Christmas," Harry explained, attempting to sound very rational. "I mean, I agree with your punishment and everything-"

"Oh, do you?" Severus asked, turning to the boy and raising his eyebrows in slight surprise.

"Well, yeah," Harry responded dimly, shrugging his shoulders. He'd honestly seen much worse punishments, and he would take being confined to the castle and Severus' house over the Dursleys or the true wrath of Severus' temper any day.

"Well, perhaps we can arrange a trip to Hogsmeade during the week," Severus said, grudgingly softened by Harry's acceptance of his punishment. He hadn't reacted strongly at the time, but Severus had suspected that over time, his resentment would grow into an angry grudge. "I may be able to escort you on Wednesday-"

"I'd like that," Harry said uneasily, "but how can I get your gift if you're with me?"

Taken aback for a moment, Severus muttered, "You needn't get me anything."

"I want to," Harry said quickly, and before Severus could object further, rushed into an explanation. "I would feel rather awkward and ungrateful staying in your home and not even bothering to get you anything for Christmas. What kind of person do you take me for?"

Severus ignored his last question. "It's not simply my home," he said reprovingly. "It's both of ours. It's… it's the one you would have grown up in, had Lily and I…" he broke off there, looking off to the side.

Harry saved him the disgrace of having to finish that sentence. "You lived there together?"

"Yes," Severus responded. "I doubt you'll be surprised, when you see it. She had a very different… style, than I myself have. The interior furnishings are anything but a result of my own work."

"Is that why you haven't been there in so long?" Harry asked, hoping he wasn't pushing some invisible boundary.

"Yes," Severus replied, nodding. "But, like I said before, it would be foolish to stay anywhere Voldemort might suspect."

"You don't think he'll come after us over the Holiday, do you?"

"The house is under the protection of the Fidelus charm," Severus said, shaking his head. "Dumbledore is my secret-keeper; even if he found out we'd left Hogwarts, we'll be nearly untouchable. The plan, however, is to make him believe we are staying here."

"How?" Harry asked.

"Just leave that to me," Severus said. "And keep your mind occluded."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

Severus privately thought that it might be time to put a stop to all the same formalities he'd expected of Harry when he was merely the boy's teacher, but he didn't say as much. There would be a better time and place for that.

"So… maybe Professor Dumbledore could take me, then?" Harry tried again.

"Take you… ah, Hogsmeade," Severus remembered, before smirking and shaking his head. "I think not. You may go to Hogsmeade, but I fear the Headmaster will make it far more enjoyable than a necessary shopping trip need be. No… I will speak to Professor McGonagall, and see what time she has available."

"You're awful," Harry muttered, though he was only half serious.

"And you're entirely too cheeky for your own good!"

Harry ducked before he could get hit over the back of the head.

xxx

It was Harry's personal opinion that this particular celebration was lasting far too late into the night. When Fred and George had been at Hogwarts, the parties had been far more entertaining. Now, however, they just didn't have the same kick.

As Hermione shared this opinion, the two decided they would escape the noise and head up to the boys' dormitory for some peace and quiet. Harry tried with great difficulty to ignore the whoops and whistles that followed as they ascended the stairs. Hermione, however, turned around and promptly quieted the jeers with a few well chosen words.

"Have I ever told you how much I admire you, Hermione?" Harry asked as she closed the door behind them and cast a spell to block the outside noise.

"Not nearly often enough," she quipped, throwing herself onto the bed across from him. "I can't begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to this Holiday," she muttered. "I'm so tired of these insufferable… children."

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked uneasily. The last place he wanted to be when Hermione Granger went on a rant was sitting across from her.

"Oh fine, fine," Hermione said, sitting up and pushing a wayward curl out of her face. "I hope you're not still angry at me for last weekend," she said, frowning worriedly. "I've been thinking about it all week, and-"

"No, you were right," Harry said, shrugging. "I was being an idiot… as usual. Speaking of idiots… are you and Ron alright?"

"Fine, why do you ask?" Hermione said all too casually, making Harry narrow his eyes.

"You didn't speak to him once down there," Harry said, giving her a knowing look.

"Well, it's not my fault he's too absorbed in telling everyone about his amazing Keeping skills to pay me any attention," Hermione said haughtily, rolling her eyes.

"He's just used to having to show off to get any attention, with brothers like the ones he's got," Harry reasoned, trying to defend his other friend.

"Well why should attention matter so much? None of those people really care about him. Not the way we do."

Harry sighed and nodded, not willing to get into this discussion. He knew she would just repeat it all to Ginny, anyways. Hardly seemed to matter if he sympathized with her; he wasn't very good at that sort of thing.

"Listen, Hermione- you're smart. Can I ask you something?"

"Ask away," Hermione said, nodding.

"I have to get Severus a Christmas present… but what on earth do you get someone like him?"

Hermione appeared to think deeply for a moment. "Well," she said slowly, getting up to pace the room. "It can't be something too extravagant, not at this point, anyways. You don't want it to appear as though you think money and glamour matter more than the thought behind it, because you've no idea what he's likely to get you."

"Oh, I don't think he'll get me anything," Harry said, half laughing. "Or at least, I don't expect him to."

"I doubt he'd invite you for Christmas and then refuse to give you a gift," Hermione said gently, smiling at him. "What does he like?"

"I don't know," Harry said; if a touch of desperation found its way into his expression, he hadn't meant it to. "I think he's got just about every book on the planet, his potions ingredients are always stocked-"

"Oh, Harry, you can't get him something for school. Potions ingredients, I ask you," she muttered to herself. "Listen, since you have no prior knowledge of what he's interested in, just make it something personal. Something small, but something personal. It shouldn't be hard to find that."

"Find what?" Harry was practically whining now.

"What I just said- something personal. Oh, this is just useless," she complained, sitting down on the bed again. "You have my advice, but then, I've never bought for Professor Snape before. However, I'm sure there's someone who has."

"Who?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore, of course."

xxx

Harry counted himself very fortunate to have such loyal friends. Upon learning that Harry would not be allowed to attend the Hogsmeade trip, Ron and Hermione had agreed to come back that afternoon, after they had finished their shopping.

Of course, Harry hadn't counted on Ginny, Luna, and Neville following the two back, but he wasn't upset that they did. Harry had an inkling that Severus would be somewhat put off by this fact, but he wasn't about to say anything. Severus had said he couldn't go to Hogsmeade; he'd said nothing about friends bringing Hogsmeade to Harry.

The group had shown up with a plethora of varied sweets from Honeydukes and little trinkets from Zonko's Joke Shop. They had the common room to themselves, and were quite content once they'd pulled six of the nicest chairs over to the table on which they'd spread their treats.

"If Snape could see you now," Ron laughed as Harry tilted his head back to catch a chocolate bean in his mouth.

"I'm rather glad he can't," Harry said, chewing. "This might not be completely against the rules, but I don't think he'd be pleased."

"And yet you do it," Hermione said, shaking her head and leaning forward to sort through the pile.

"Nonsense," Ginny said in Harry's defense. "What do you expect him to do, turn us all away?" She lowered her voice to a less feminine pitch and mockingly imitated him. "'Sorry, everyone, it wouldn't be a punishment if I had fun anyways. Take your sweets and go.'" she laughed and resumed her normal tone. "It wouldn't be natural."

"Well, I'm not trying to complain," Hermione said. "It's nice to actually spend some time with you, Harry, other than at dinner or in the library."

"Well, if you'd come down and watch us during Quidditch practice-" Ron started, only to be cut off by a sharp kick in the shin from his little sister. He let out a little yell and called her a rather nasty name, but didn't finish his sentence.

"So many things have changed," Hermione sighed, sitting back in her chair.

"Yeah, I'd give anything to go back to first year," Neville commented, nodding.

Luna gave him an odd look, narrowing her usually wide, bulgy eyes. "Why?"

"Things were simpler then," Neville said, shrugging.

"Voldemort hadn't returned," Ron said in way of agreement.

Harry shook his head. "He was always going to."

"But, maybe-"

"No," Ginny spoke up. "Harry's right. He was always going to return; he would have kept trying, no matter what, until he found a way. There would be no point in going back… we would just be delaying the inevitable."

It remained unsaid that having hosted Riddle in her mind, she would be one to know.

"Do you think we'll ever… you know, defeat him?" Neville asked.

Silence fell. Harry was the first to break it. "We haven't got much choice… it's him or us. Him or me."

"No, Harry, not just you and him. We can all work together-"

"That's just it," Harry said, looking up. "It's not. It's going to come down to the two of us, and only one can win."

"How could you possibly know that?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Because that's what was in the prophecy."

All eyes turned to Neville. How he had known this, Harry couldn't quite figure out. He couldn't remember telling him.

"Did Dumbledore tell you too?" Harry asked, and received a nod. "When?"

"Earlier this year…" he said uneasily, shifting in his seat. "Said… he said it was time."

"Why would he tell you now, of all times?" Hermione asked.

"Tell what?" Ron inquired blankly, looking back and forth between them. Hermione gave him a small smile and shook her head.

"It could have been me or Harry," Neville said. "One of us would have had to battle You-Know-Who… but he chose Harry."

"Chose?" Ron repeated.

Harry pointed to his scar. He noticed, as he did, that his hand was shaking. He knew he was going to have to do something about these nerves… every time he thought about what he was going to have to do, his stomach roiled and pitched, and his eyes threatened to see only black. It was happening even now, even as he sat in the middle of all his friends… the surreal fact was that someday soon, he would have to battle the Dark Lord Voldemort, and there was a good possibility that he wouldn't be the one to walk away. "The prophecy could have applied to either Neville or me. He chose… well, you know who he chose…" Harry said shakily, running a hand over his marked forehead. "In doing so, and failing, he marked me as his equal. The prophecy goes on to state that only one of us can live in the end… either must die at the hand of the other."

He'd committed this to memory. He'd gone over it so many times, trying in vain to find some flaw in its phrasing, something that gave it a different meaning. He knew he wouldn't feel guilty about killing him, in the end, but he would be lying to himself if he tried to deny that he was scared. Anyone in his right mind would be.

"That's why it's so vital that we finish this potion before he realizes what we're doing," Hermione said thoughtfully, piecing it all together.

Harry nodded, staring with wide, unfixed eyes at the floor. "Exactly."

"You know we're still going to help," Ginny said gently, hesitantly resting a hand on Harry's arm.

"Mhmm," Luna murmured in agreement, nodding. "We'll do all we can. With our combined knowledge, we can create all sorts of unexpected defenses." She thought for a moment, and said, "For example, I've heard there's a spell that allows you to summon Nortrixes to protect fortresses- if the final battle were to take place at Hogwarts, I'm sure we could do that. And I'll ask my dad, I'm sure he can give us more suggestions, as well."

No one even bothered to ask what a Nortrix was.

Ginny suppressed a giggle as Harry managed a tight smile and said, "Thanks, Luna."

"What else can we do, Harry?" Hermione asked. He only noticed then that her amber eyes were close to tears.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I used to think that at a time like this, I would know exactly what needed to be done… but I don't. There's so much to do, I don't even know where to begin. I'm not nearly prepared enough to battle Voldemort."

"I'm sure having Snape as a father will do you a world of good," Neville said, eyes widened. "He's got to know a thing or two about dueling."

"I'd imagine so," Harry said, trying not to laugh at the nervous look that appeared on Neville's face at the mere mention of his father.

"Well, don't hesitate to tell us when you do know, Harry," Hermione said seriously, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap. "Talk to the Professor, and see what he thinks… we should start preparing."

"Do you really think it'll be like… a battle?" Ron asked, his mouth held slightly agape at the notion.

"Ron… I think it'll be closer to war," Harry said, lowering his brow. "When the time finally comes… this is going to be so much more than we've ever dealt with. I can't even…"

"We'll be ready," Neville said determinedly. "We'll be ready."

xxx

It was far too late for someone to be knocking on his door. No. No one was knocking on his door- he would just turn over, bury his head in his pillows, and fall back asleep, and the obnoxious knocking would stop.

And again it came.

Fine. It wasn't a figment of his imagination, nor was it a part of a dream. Severus rolled out of bed unceremoniously; it was quite a departure from his usually graceful form. He threw on a robe, pulled on some socks, and stalked grumpily out of his room and towards his door.

He usually didn't sleep much, admittedly, but every now and again, it all caught up to him. He'd had a long week, and had spent a majority of the day locked in a room filled with the warm steam and pungent fumes emitted from the various potions brewing. To say the least, such conditions hadn't exactly been energizing.

Severus cracked the door open and peered out into the darkness. He didn't see anything, but within moments, two familiar green eyes were staring back at him.

"Hi," Harry said breathlessly, looking around. "I saw Filch a few corridors back, can I come in before he catches me?"

"I suppose," Severus said, standing back and rolling his eyes. "But thirty points from Gryffindor for wandering the corridors late at night. You don't look incredibly distressed; I'm guessing this could have waited until tomorrow."

"Yes, but I needed to talk about it now," Harry said. "I talked to my friends, but I… I don't know." He shifted uncomfortably. "Wasn't the same," he muttered, almost inaudibly.

Severus nodded. "Admissible," was all he said.

Harry sat down on the couch and curled his knees up to his chest. He didn't grasp them, just rested his head on them; Severus could tell he'd crawled out of bed, unable to sleep well.

"You're worried," Severus observed, seating himself in the chair across from Harry, and noticing that they usually took the same positions when down here.

"Yeah," Harry admitted awkwardly, twisting his hands nervously. He still wasn't accustomed to coming to this man for any sort of emotional support or advice… he was new to this, as was his father.

"May I ask why?" Severus uneasily inquired, wondering why a simple question was so difficult for him to ask.

Harry hesitated for a moment, trying to appear deep in thought. He always tried to seem so sure of himself: adult, mature, and ready to handle whatever was thrown at him. To admit his fear about something that was beyond his control, and ultimately, inevitable, seemed silly. Why worry about something that was bound to happen anyways? What did it accomplish to admit his weaknesses?

"Do you know about the prophecy?" Harry finally asked, frowning deeply at his internal insecurities. Such feelings seemed unnecessary.

"I do," Severus said slowly, narrowing his eyes. "Not word for word, but I understand what it requires."

Harry didn't say anything. Severus considered the boy, studying his facial expressions. He had never seen him look so unsure of himself; normally, the boy was almost confident to the point of obnoxiousness, or arrogance, as Severus had once believed. Coming to know him, he'd begun to think of it as strength… it was gratifying to see the boy display some humanity in this aspect- on this topic. After all, if he saw himself as invincible, it was likely more detrimental than any fear he could possess. Apparently, Severus had to tell him he thought as much.

"You realize, Harry," he said gently, "that no one expects you to be brave all the time. Grown men have been called valiant for displaying half the amount of strength you have, bearing such a burden at so young an age. You would do well to remember that the prophecy dictates only what is to happen, not how you feel about it."

Harry nodded, slightly reassured, but his fear didn't subside.

"Have you ever considered what it really means, though?" Harry asked, unfolding his legs and sitting forward on the dark couch.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're asking," Severus admitted.

"If I can't defeat the most powerful dark wizard in existence… then nothing else matters. Have you ever considered that?" He paused, waiting for a response. He received nothing; Severus held his gaze steady and waited for him to continue. "I have. I can't run and I can't hide, because everything depends on my defeating him."

Harry's tone was the most bitter Severus had ever heard it; the look on his face was dark, far away, and most frighteningly, familiar to the Potions Master.

"You're very wrong," Severus said, shaking his head.

Harry's head snapped in Severus direction, a doubtful, searching look on his face.

"You can run. You can hide. I would help you do it, if you really wanted to. But you see," Severus said, leaning forward. "That would be taking the coward's way out. It would be just as easy for you to become a different person and join his side… I know that's not what you want."

"But… don't you ever think that it's impossible?"

"I have, in the past," Severus said. "In your earlier years, you didn't show any extraordinary strength, in my opinion, and the luck you possessed only served to offset your outstanding lack of intelligence."

Harry gave him a very dark look at that, but Severus held up a hand to forestall him from speaking. "But that was, as I've stated, in the past. My opinion has since changed."

"How?" Harry asked skeptically. "How can it have? Maybe you were right. I'm nothing special."

"I'm sure many people would beg to differ," Severus said, throwing Harry a cynical glance. "The Headmaster, for one, who has an uncanny sense about people and power. He is nothing if not an intuitive battle strategist."

"And yet he failed to tell me about any of this until my fifth year," Harry said, almost in way of objection.

"He's not infallible," Severus replied, shaking his head to emphasize his point. "His plans are not unerring. Often, his mistakes are made when he attempts to spare people pain, but it's not to say that his wisdom doesn't exceed that of most men. He wouldn't ask you to do the impossible. The fact that he expects you to succeed speaks volumes about the probability of your victory. Never forget, Harry. You do have the power the Dark Lord knows not. When the time comes, you will be ready… it's not a matter of preparation, it's a matter of fate."

"How very eloquent," Harry scoffed, earning himself an acidic glare.

"Slightly histrionic in its wording or no, it is true," Severus said irritably, though he could understand Harry's skepticism. "And you aren't alone in this, you realize."

"You know the prophecy! That's just it, I am alone!"

"No!" Severus objected, standing up. "It is only meant that in that final moment, you will be the one on the receiving or casting end of that fateful curse. Up until then, you can and must accept all help that is offered to you. I know it can't be of much comfort to think a group of children is your only means of support, so allow me to assure you that when I say you will have help, I am alluding to the adults in your life."

"Which adults?" Harry asked, crossing his arms.

"Well, what do you think I'll be doing, sitting on the sidelines and conjuring biscuits and pumpkin juice at snack time?" Severus snapped, offended that Harry would even ask. "I know I fail you in many ways… but I can promise you that I won't fail you in this. I am attempting to complete this potion, which will have the utmost significance in your fight with the Dark Lord. This summer, we will devise a rigorous training schedule, and I will tell you now, I'll be teaching you things Dumbledore would never dare to incorporate into the syllabus at school."

"What, like, the Dark Arts?" Harry questioned, appalled. Was he actually suggesting this?

"You must know what they entail in order to defeat them," Severus said, raising an eyebrow as he realized how ignorant Harry was to some of the concepts of battle.

"Does Dumbledore know you're planning this?"

"We've exchanged words over it, yes," Severus admitted in a deceptively mild tone.

"What kind of words?" Harry asked cautiously. He didn't mean to argue, but he wasn't sure this was a good idea… he wasn't ready for such power. What if he didn't have the self-discipline to contain it?

"Do you honestly think," Severus said slowly, stepping forward, "That Albus Dumbledore has no knowledge of the Dark Arts? Do you think he's become the most powerful wizard in existence through ignorance of how the other side fights? Don't fool yourself into thinking there is so great a difference between dark and light, Harry. The answer to what kind of wizard you are lies within how you use the knowledge you have."

"And what if I use them the wrong way?" Harry asked. "How do you know that I won't… you know, go dark?"

"Because I will not allow you to," Severus replied, looking at Harry as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. "And I have no intention of teaching you only dark spells. Most will be spells simply too powerful for normal boys of your age to attempt. I have no intentions of steering you down too dark or tempting a path."

"I know you don't intend to-"

"Harry," Severus said, stepping forward again and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation, nodding.

"Then you have little need to worry," Severus reassured him, leaning down to Harry's level to make eye contact.

"I suppose you're right," Harry conceded quietly.

Severus nodded. "And if it is of any comfort, this was planned even before we discovered our familial link. It was intended that I take up training you, in coordination with Dumbledore, this coming summer. I wasn't happy to agree at the time it was discussed… Now, however, I have a vested interest in your success… I hope you realize that my dedication has increased tenfold."

"I suppose I should thank you," Harry said quietly.

"No," Severus disagreed gently, moving to sit next to him. "Thank me after you succeed, victorious. Until then, you owe me nothing."

"And after?"

"I believe we shall all find ourselves indebted to you, Harry."

Harry hoped he was right. He didn't need people indebted to him… but he thought it would be lovely to live long enough for such a thing to happen. From where he was standing, it still didn't seem all that likely.

xxx End Chapter 33 xxx