Author's Note: Ok, the characters contained within this fic don't belong to me - they belong to J.K. Rowling. And if the truth be told, the idea for this fic isn't mine either - a close friend of mine was kind enough to let me borrow it, when her fic (with a similar base idea) was lost from her hard drive. So I guess I should thank these two individuals. Um... thanks. ^_^* And secondly, as I write this fic, I have half a mind to continue it. If you'd like to see more than one chapter to this fic, please review it and tell me so after reading. Heh... thanks to you to. Oh, and don't forget to enjoy. ^_-
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The door to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office open sharply, letting in a cold gust of air as whoever had opened it entered. The snowy-haired wizard didn't even look up from the paperwork he was busy with, however. He didn't need to; he knew exactly who it was, and as such, a warm smiled formed on his rosy lips. "Ah, Mister Potter - how nice of you to join me. Please, come in."
A sneer formed on the man in question's lips, as he slid gracefully into a chair on the opposite side of Dumbledore's desk. Locking his icy gaze on the ancient Headmaster, he responded, "My dear Headmaster, I didn't change my last name so you could continue referring to me by my idiotic brother's surname. And I certainly didn't go through four years of wizards' college and become a professor here for you to be calling me Mister."
Dumbledore's silvery mane bobbed as he looked up from his paperwork with near confusion in his eyes. And for a moment, the man on the other side of the desk though he had made one snappish remark too many in his career, but what the Headmaster said next cleared up any doubts the former 'Mister Potter' had been having about his comment. "Ah, yes. Terribly sorry Professor," Dumbledore said, his gaze returning to the piles of paper before him. "Sometimes I forget you're no longer a student here..."
The Headmaster's guest made a little noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, and a long silence passed between the two men. For precious seconds, the black-haired man sitting opposite Dumbledore though the old wizard had forgotten about him. And not wishing to be simply cast aside as his superior worked all day on paperwork, the man decided to speak.
"Is there a reason you've asked me here, Dumbledore?"
"Quite," the white-haired male responded, never looking up from his paper work. "Your nephew, Harry will be attending Hogwarts for the first time this coming school year." Lifting one of the papers he had been working on off of the desk, the Headmaster handed it to his guest.
Black eyes regarded the bright green ink on the parchment for a moment, before handing the paper back to Dumbledore. It was one of the many letters that were written, and sent out each year to those who would be first years at the magical castle, and the dark-tressed Professor had seen letters like these a dozen times before. Only this one was addressed to Harry Potter - the son of his late brother. The son of a man he hated.
And amidst the rage that consumed him, he managed a half-hearted, "I see."
"I've little doubt that you do, Professor. But there is more to the matter of young Harry attending Hogwarts." There was a pause as Dumbledore took the paper he had offered his companion back, then the Headmaster continued. "I don't think it will be wise for you to tell the boy you're his uncle right away, if at all. It's been hard enough for him living with those Muggles all these years... and to find he has you as an uncle?" Dumbledore shook his head grimly.
The Headmaster's guest was far from grim however. Instead, he was fighting back the instinct to use some of his trademark sarcasm on the silver-haired man - it wouldn't be the best of things to do in front of a superior. But still, it hurt to think that Dumbledore thought that he wasn't fit to be an uncle to the boy... Even if he had promised himself to hate anyone who came to Hogwarts bearing the surname Potter. And at that very moment, the Headmaster looked up and noticed the malice in the Professor's eyes. A jolly laugh followed, and the man on the opposite side of the silver-tressed wizard felt his rage grow.
"What's so amusing, Headmaster?" he snapped, and immediately Dumbledore's laughter died.
"You looked as though you though I meant that he didn't want you as an uncle simply because you despised his father. For a moment, I could have sworn you cared." In reality, there was a small flicker of care for the boy who was coming. After all, it was hard to hate one own's family completely, no matter how hard you tried. But it was only a flicker of feeling, and Dumbledore spoke again before he had time to think further on the subject.
"In any case, I said what I did, because of what you have been doing for me in secret." The Headmaster gazed at him, cool determination reflecting in his eyes. "If the boy was to learn you were his uncle... and then have you lost to Voldemort - Harry would be more scarred then when his parents died. So I trust that you won't let him in on any more of your past or his then I wish you to?"
The former Transfiguration Professor's guest nodded.
"Glad you're with me as usual, Professor. If there's nothing else you want to discuss with me, you may go."
At this, the Professor shook his head and stood abruptly, with near unnatural grace. "Nothing else, sir. Though I daresay," he began, lowering his voice to the near whisper he used when threatening his students, "that if you slip with my name again, little Potter won't need me to tell him anything else."
Dumbledore smiled widely, either not noticing or not caring that his subordinate was edging his way into threatening the Headmaster. "I realize that," the silver-tressed professor responded. And without further conversation, Professor Severus Snape (formerly Severus Potter), the Potions Master at Hogwarts slipped out of the Headmaster's office as quickly as he had come.
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The door to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office open sharply, letting in a cold gust of air as whoever had opened it entered. The snowy-haired wizard didn't even look up from the paperwork he was busy with, however. He didn't need to; he knew exactly who it was, and as such, a warm smiled formed on his rosy lips. "Ah, Mister Potter - how nice of you to join me. Please, come in."
A sneer formed on the man in question's lips, as he slid gracefully into a chair on the opposite side of Dumbledore's desk. Locking his icy gaze on the ancient Headmaster, he responded, "My dear Headmaster, I didn't change my last name so you could continue referring to me by my idiotic brother's surname. And I certainly didn't go through four years of wizards' college and become a professor here for you to be calling me Mister."
Dumbledore's silvery mane bobbed as he looked up from his paperwork with near confusion in his eyes. And for a moment, the man on the other side of the desk though he had made one snappish remark too many in his career, but what the Headmaster said next cleared up any doubts the former 'Mister Potter' had been having about his comment. "Ah, yes. Terribly sorry Professor," Dumbledore said, his gaze returning to the piles of paper before him. "Sometimes I forget you're no longer a student here..."
The Headmaster's guest made a little noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, and a long silence passed between the two men. For precious seconds, the black-haired man sitting opposite Dumbledore though the old wizard had forgotten about him. And not wishing to be simply cast aside as his superior worked all day on paperwork, the man decided to speak.
"Is there a reason you've asked me here, Dumbledore?"
"Quite," the white-haired male responded, never looking up from his paper work. "Your nephew, Harry will be attending Hogwarts for the first time this coming school year." Lifting one of the papers he had been working on off of the desk, the Headmaster handed it to his guest.
Black eyes regarded the bright green ink on the parchment for a moment, before handing the paper back to Dumbledore. It was one of the many letters that were written, and sent out each year to those who would be first years at the magical castle, and the dark-tressed Professor had seen letters like these a dozen times before. Only this one was addressed to Harry Potter - the son of his late brother. The son of a man he hated.
And amidst the rage that consumed him, he managed a half-hearted, "I see."
"I've little doubt that you do, Professor. But there is more to the matter of young Harry attending Hogwarts." There was a pause as Dumbledore took the paper he had offered his companion back, then the Headmaster continued. "I don't think it will be wise for you to tell the boy you're his uncle right away, if at all. It's been hard enough for him living with those Muggles all these years... and to find he has you as an uncle?" Dumbledore shook his head grimly.
The Headmaster's guest was far from grim however. Instead, he was fighting back the instinct to use some of his trademark sarcasm on the silver-haired man - it wouldn't be the best of things to do in front of a superior. But still, it hurt to think that Dumbledore thought that he wasn't fit to be an uncle to the boy... Even if he had promised himself to hate anyone who came to Hogwarts bearing the surname Potter. And at that very moment, the Headmaster looked up and noticed the malice in the Professor's eyes. A jolly laugh followed, and the man on the opposite side of the silver-tressed wizard felt his rage grow.
"What's so amusing, Headmaster?" he snapped, and immediately Dumbledore's laughter died.
"You looked as though you though I meant that he didn't want you as an uncle simply because you despised his father. For a moment, I could have sworn you cared." In reality, there was a small flicker of care for the boy who was coming. After all, it was hard to hate one own's family completely, no matter how hard you tried. But it was only a flicker of feeling, and Dumbledore spoke again before he had time to think further on the subject.
"In any case, I said what I did, because of what you have been doing for me in secret." The Headmaster gazed at him, cool determination reflecting in his eyes. "If the boy was to learn you were his uncle... and then have you lost to Voldemort - Harry would be more scarred then when his parents died. So I trust that you won't let him in on any more of your past or his then I wish you to?"
The former Transfiguration Professor's guest nodded.
"Glad you're with me as usual, Professor. If there's nothing else you want to discuss with me, you may go."
At this, the Professor shook his head and stood abruptly, with near unnatural grace. "Nothing else, sir. Though I daresay," he began, lowering his voice to the near whisper he used when threatening his students, "that if you slip with my name again, little Potter won't need me to tell him anything else."
Dumbledore smiled widely, either not noticing or not caring that his subordinate was edging his way into threatening the Headmaster. "I realize that," the silver-tressed professor responded. And without further conversation, Professor Severus Snape (formerly Severus Potter), the Potions Master at Hogwarts slipped out of the Headmaster's office as quickly as he had come.