Soft fumes came from the hot cauldrons. Twenty eleven year old children focussed intently on what they were doing. Their teacher strode through the room, checking cauldrons, and giving instructions in a low baritone.
"…let it simmer for a bit…yes…now add three drops of vanilla extract. No more, no less. It is very important to be precise."
"Professor?" a young Gryffindor inquired, "what exactly are we making?"
"Well, young sir, in your cauldron you now have the world's best hot chocolate! Pour some into a cup and let it cool a bit. There are biscuits up front, kindly distribute them to your classmates."
When the children were all munching on biscuits and sipping cocoa, Severus smirked at them. "So, little Gryffindors – tell me, has anyone ever taught you to cheat and play pranks without being caught?"
"No sir," one of them responded, "how do we do that, sir?"
Snape would have beamed at them if he'd had the disposition to undertake something so cheerful. "Let me explain…"
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Harry Potter wandered into the Great Hall, dressed in the clean but threadbare Dudley-cast-offs he had been wearing in Azkaban. Had they once been far too large for him, now they resembled a tent more than anything. They had kept him warm in Azkaban, but they were definitely not appropriate dress for school. Or so Professor McGonagall thought.
"Mr Potter," she addressed him sternly, "you are not to venture outside your dorm unless you are dressed in your school uniform."
Harry nodded. "Very well," he said, and turned around.
Liberally interpreting the Deputy's instructions as a command to stay in his dorm, he quickly retrieved some library books and then curled up on his bed. The Common Room was blissfully quiet during the day and he happily settled into his pillow, preparing for a few hours of relaxed reading. He briefly wondered how Snape was doing in class and chuckled as he imagined the faces of the hapless students who were subjected to this new Potions Master.
He sighed. If anyone had told him in his first year that one day he would miss the Potions Masters presence, even if they were still in the same castle, he would have called St Mungo's. after two years in close confinement with each other, he had trouble getting through the day. Everything was large, and noisy.
"Harry."
Albus Dumbledore stood in the door to the dorm. Harry didn't respond.
"Harry, there is no need to throw a tantrum."
"I am not throwing a tantrum. You obviously don't know what a tantrum looks like. I am merely ignoring someone who addresses me as a friend while he is not. Furthest from it, actually."
The blue eyes twinkled, not at all dismayed by Harry's hostility.
"Come on now, Mr Potter, I am certain Tom was much less of a friend…"
"Actually, no. See, I knew what to expect from Voldemort. Nothing good, but I was prepared for that. He had no opportunity to stab me in the back because I would never have turned my back on him. The people I trusted to WATCH my back, however…"
"Harry, dear boy, you really must forgive us. We honestly feared Severus had turned you Dark. What were we supposed to do?"
Harry glared. "Oh, I don't know – talk to us, perhaps? Use Veritaserum at that sham of a trial? Have a little faith – or do you only demand that from people, not give it? Do you have any IDEA how much you've hurt Severus?"
He got up, closed his book and took it under his arm.
"Where are you going?" Dumbledore asked with a frown.
"To the dungeons. Now stop bothering me. Bad enough you make me live here."
"You must attend classes, Harry."
"Or what? You expel me? You wouldn't do that. Or do you want to throw me back into Azkaban? I'm sure that would go over well with the rest of the Wizarding World, after I defeated Voldemort."
"Your godfather is teaching Defense against the Dark Arts."
"Great, then I know which class to stay away from especially."
"He expects to see you there."
Harry gave one last glance over his shoulder before exiting the Common Room. "His expectations are not my concern."
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Harry arrived in the dungeons just as Severus was dismissing his OWL students.
"And?"
"Cocoa with the first years, I taught the fourth years to make a colouring agent that turns people's hair a wild variety of colours when ingested, and the fifth years have just learned how to make their own liquorice wands."
"All useful skills, I'm sure. Well, McGonagall dismissed me from her class because I wasn't dressed correctly. Then the Headmaster disturbed me in the dorm to tell me I should forgive everyone because they made the right decision in throwing us into Azkaban. I don't want to sleep up there anyway, it's not safe."
Snape smirked. He seemed to be doing a lot of that today. "Then it is fortunate that I convinced the Headmaster that you and I have some traumas to take care of, and would best do so in the set of rooms we occupied earlier. I took the liberty, during lunch, of completely cleaning it of any spyware and warding it against further intrusion."
"I wish we could get to Diagon Alley, though. Riling up McGonagall was fun, but I am getting tired of these clothes."
"We can owl-order the basic supplies. It will probably be some time before they will let us out of the castle even with a guard."
"Any luck on the lawyer yet? I don't feel like staying here much longer."
"I have sent out several requests. They must make their way to the mainland first, so I do not expect a reply for a number of days yet. Which is fortunate, because the second years are going to enjoy creating their own dungbombs."
"You know, I have Potions too tomorrow."
"Delightful. Would you like to be my assistant?"
Harry laughed, his first real laugh since Azkaban. "That would mess with their minds for sure."
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Ron and Hermione did not know what to think when they saw Harry sitting up front with their Potions Master, the same one he had always hated, that first lesson.
"Good afternoon, class," Professor Snape started, "As you can see, Mr Potter is assisting me this class period."
Harry nodded brightly, making Ron and Hermione think he had forgiven them already – after all, so far Harry had ignored them.
"Today, we will be doing something extremely difficult. It can easily go wrong if you don't pay attention, so kindly concentrate fully.
Neville already started to hyperventilate.
"We will be making a perfect mustard soup from scratch," Harry announced "everyone get your flour, your mustard and your other ingredients up front. Work that we approve of will be served by the kitchen elves for lunch."
"Mustard soup?" Hermione cried in outrage.
"Yes. It's healthy, and an excellent remedy for common colds," Harry nodded.
"But we're supposed to pass our NEWTS this year. We can't waste our time on things like, like SOUP!"
Snape leaned back and got a potions magazine from his desk drawer. "Enjoy, Harry," he said calmly, "let me know when they are ready for tasting."
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"But Headmaster! Harry didn't even go to class at all except for Potions and then he made us cook soup while Professor Snape read a magazine!"
"That is correct, Albus. Mr Potter appeared in class out of uniform yesterday. I sent him to change it and he never returned. Every single year has been making some sort of candy or Zonko's product in their Potions class."
"We will never pass our NEWT this way!" Hermione nearly sobbed. Ron patted her shoulder awkwardly, even though he had enjoyed the soup.
The old Headmaster sighed. "Apparently Harry and Severus are intent on making this as difficult as it can possibly be. Perhaps if we found some way to appease them…"
"Lupin!" McGonagall said in a flash of inspiration, "Remus Lupin always claimed they were innocent. They will want to see him."
"Excellent suggestion, Minerva," Dumbledore twinkled, "I will get Remus here as soon as possible, and let Harry and Severus know. Perhaps they will be more cooperative."
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As it turned out, Harry and Severus were not at all inclined to be cooperative. In fact, the thought that they were graciously 'allowed' to have a visitor infuriated them beyond measure, but they set that aside momentarily, thinking about the advantages of having an ally. Because, as far as they knew, Remus Lupin was an ally – or had been. They would just need to find out if he was planning on getting them to forgive the others.
Remus Lupin had been surprised when he got the Headmasters invitation - at first the old man had wanted to keep him away. Grimly, Remus thought that the Headmaster needed him now, for leverage or as a bone to throw at the two prisoners in his castle. Either way, he was not happy with it, but nothing would keep him away from Harry.