Authors note: Well, this chapter was meant to be a bit longer, but I've
had to cut it off early. It does have relevance --- I promise! Hmm.I just
realized that I have yet to write a disclaimer. I would just like to point
out that everything that I have written previously, and everything that I
will write in the future, is based on characters created by Miss JK
Rowling, and I own no part of them. There --- said it!
Just in case you read this chapter and have absolutely no idea whats going on - remember in the first chapter, when Albus mentioned that Severus had given Harry another detention? Well, this is a little chapter about the detention ---- Harry may seem a little OC, but I'm not very good at writing him :S
Harry Potter stared blankly down at the open spell book, eyes blinking in confusion behind his glasses. A mild frown of irritation furrowed his pale brow. He was supposed to be calculating the exact amount of Wolfs Bane required for a potion of forgetting, and it was making his head spin.
He gave a world-weary sigh and stared longingly into the distance --- wishing the time away. It wouldn't have been so bad if Ron or Hermione was around - then he would have had some, albeit silent, companionship. As it was, he was alone.
Alone with Professor Snape.
For a full hour.
Despite himself, he shuddered.
"Cold, Mr Potter?"
Harry glanced up at the sound of Snape's silky purr. His frown deepened.
"Sorry, sir?"
Sitting at his desk in the front of the Dungeon classroom, quill poised above a sheet of parchment, the sallow-skinned Potions Master arched a dark eyebrow. "I was only inquiring as to whether you were cold, Potter. I understand what a sensitive boy you are ---- I would not wish for such a thing as a cold draught to upset your delicate constitution."
Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Clenching his jaw, he turned his attention hurriedly back to his equations, jaw clenching instinctively. "I'm fine, sir," he told him in the iciest voice he could muster.
----Please, just let him go back to his work ---- please just make him ignore me ----
His mental plea went unheeded. Snape set down his quill, apparently deciding that the young boy had not yet suffered enough. A smirk curved at the corner of his thin mouth.
"You know, Mr Potter, I've been thinking about you --- wondering why you seem to feel this need to disrupt my lessons as often as possible. I believe I have finally reached a conclusion on the matter. Would you like to hear it?"
The boy, wisely, chose to remain silent. He could feel his face burning scarlet with rage and shame. The Professor, however, didn't seem to notice --- or at least if he did, he chose to continue undaunted.
"It is my belief that your obvious faults stem from a natural impertinence. You see, in many ways, children are a lot like dogs. A young dog is bright and attentive --- eager to please. You can teach a pup to do anything, and the environment that that dog finds itself will influence its character and behavior for the rest of its life. However, once it reaches a certain age, the learning capacity virtually shuts off. As they say, you cannot teach an old dog new tricks. Do you see my point?"
Harry lowered his head and continued writing furiously, trying his best to ignore the softly spoken words. It was no good - he could feel Snape's pitiless eyes boring into his skull. His wand hand was burning with the desire to hex him --- to wipe that smug, self-congratulatory smirk off the teachers face once and for all. Oh, there were a thousand things that he would have loved to do to Snape --- and none of them good. Right now he was contemplating how easy it would be to zap him into a toad, or slug, or something else particularly nasty.
"You, Harry Potter, are an old dog. The behavior instilled in you by your Muggle upbringing means that you will never truly be rid of your insolent nature. You cannot teach an old dog --- you can only punish it."
The dark haired boy was seething with ill-disguised rage. He often wondered exactly why it was that Snape seemed to take particular delight in torturing him. Since day one he had been singled out. Not to imply that Snape was particularly nice to anyone, but it bothered Harry the way that it was always he who took the brunt of the teachers malicious nature.
True, he had once saved Harry's life --- and for that he would always be indebted ---- but that was about as far as their relationship went. Snape hated Harry and Harry hated Snape. The dislike was mutual.
But still --- that didn't make the experience any easier to bear.
Gritting his teeth tightly, he took a deep breath and look up. The Professor was watching him intently, dark glee glinting in his fathomless eyes.
"I think I need more Armadillo Bile, sir."
"What's this? No retaliation? No self-righteous come back?" Severus sneered. "Potter boy, you seem to be loosing your edge."
Harry was gripping his quill so tightly that the tips of his fingers had turned white. He wasn't in the mood for Snape's twisted games --- not today. He had been up all night with a particularly long essay of the Wizarding Wars of 1362, and his head was now throbbing painfully.
He blinked and stared at the teacher. Snape stared back through the heavy curtain of black hair. Their was a long moment of silence.
Finally, Harry spoke, voice soft with malice. "What do you want me to say, sir?"
"The truth. Tell me boy --- what do you really think of me?"
The truth? The truth would probably get Harry expelled. Normally, he would have just let the question slip by and gone back to his school work -- - but not today. He wasn't a stubborn or obstinate boy, but he did have pride. He resented being called a dog, and the mood he was in, he wasn't prepared to just ignore the abuse.
If Professor Snape wanted the truth, Harry would give it to him. The knowledge that it would probably cost him half his House Points suddenly seemed inconsequential.
"Truthfully sir, I think you're a bully."
Severus made no movement, save for the lifting of one eyebrow. "Indeed?" he purred. "Go on."
The green eyed boy was a little surprised. He had expected at least some kind of retaliation. This was obviously some kind of ruse to get him into even deeper trouble, but for some reason Harry was willing to play the game, even if it got him detention for life. Severus Snape needed to be told a few home truths --- and Harry was going to be the one to tell him.
His young face gained a hard edge, gaze narrowing. "I think that you're a bitter and twisted old man. You're just a coward that picks on kids to give him some sense of self-importance. You might not be working for Voldemort anymore, but that doesn't make you a nice person --- Dumbledore probably only took you on as a charity case. You have no family --- no friends --- and to be honest, I can understand why. You're cold, you're ugly, and you're mean, and I don't think I've ever hated anyone so much as I hate you."
Harry paused, realizing what he had said, and then looked away. He was breathing hard and shaking with fury. He didn't dare look up. He had stepped over the line and he knew it.
"At least that's my opinion --- *sir*."
His words were met by painfully long silence.
Severus didn't say anything. He stared unblinkingly at the boy with intense onyx eyes. His expression was impossible to read, blank and emotionless --- like a pale mask. There no hint of what he might be thinking or feeling, just a cold detached nothingness.
After a lengthy moment, he seemed to return to himself. He straightened suddenly, ghostly white hands cupping on the desk in front of him, and gave a brief nod. "Very well Potter, you may go."
Harry frowned. That hadn't been the answer that he had been expecting. "Go where?"
"Wherever you want to, boy. Your detention is over."
It took a minute or two for Snape's coldly spoken words to sink in. The young boy paused doubtfully and glanced at the hour-glass on the front desk. He was barely ten minutes into his detention. He wasn't due to leave for the better part of an hour --- and Professor Snape was letting him go? It made no sense.
He blinked quickly behind his glasses. "I'm sorry, sir?"
"Are you deaf as well as condescending, Potter?" Severus scowled darkly at him for a moment longer, then picked up his quill. He turned his attention back to the pile of parchments before him. "I said that your punishment is finished. You may leave."
Harry wasn't sure what to do. The bravo that had filled him only minutes before hand had all but faded away, replaced by a fearful confusion. He had made a big mistake in insulting Snape to his face --- he knew that. There was something dangerous about the way that the Potions Master was bent over his desk. His face was obscured by a heavy curtain of unwashed black-hair, his whole body tensed - poised tautly like a cat waiting to spring.
Harry was motionless for a moment. Then, slowly, he began to gather his books and put them into his bag, all the time watching Snape uneasily. The older man seemed determined to ignore him --- something that did little to comfort the boy. He wondered what devilish plot the Slytherin Head was thinking up. Whatever it was, it probably involved Harry being expelled. Or tortured. Most likely a combination of the two.
He slid out of his chair and began to walk tentatively across the room. Snape continued to work on the sheets of parchment, quill scratching furiously as he made corrections. Harry had almost reached the door when he finaly spoke.
"And Potter?"
Harry froze. "Yes, Professor?"
Severus didn't look up. "You've been looking a little pale of late. I suggest you wrap up against the winter. Wouldn't want anything to upset that delicate constitution of yours now, would we?"
---Smarmy git --- The boy thought to himself. Any regrets that he had felt at telling Snape how he felt suddenly disappeared. Almost. A nagging feeling of guilt was squirming uncomfortably in his gut, but his indignation at the sly remark stopped him from acting on it.
"I'll keep that in mind, sir."
Throwing the door open, Harry Potter strode out of the classroom in a blaze of black robes, emerald eyes flashing.
He didn't give the Professor a second glance.
Just in case you read this chapter and have absolutely no idea whats going on - remember in the first chapter, when Albus mentioned that Severus had given Harry another detention? Well, this is a little chapter about the detention ---- Harry may seem a little OC, but I'm not very good at writing him :S
Harry Potter stared blankly down at the open spell book, eyes blinking in confusion behind his glasses. A mild frown of irritation furrowed his pale brow. He was supposed to be calculating the exact amount of Wolfs Bane required for a potion of forgetting, and it was making his head spin.
He gave a world-weary sigh and stared longingly into the distance --- wishing the time away. It wouldn't have been so bad if Ron or Hermione was around - then he would have had some, albeit silent, companionship. As it was, he was alone.
Alone with Professor Snape.
For a full hour.
Despite himself, he shuddered.
"Cold, Mr Potter?"
Harry glanced up at the sound of Snape's silky purr. His frown deepened.
"Sorry, sir?"
Sitting at his desk in the front of the Dungeon classroom, quill poised above a sheet of parchment, the sallow-skinned Potions Master arched a dark eyebrow. "I was only inquiring as to whether you were cold, Potter. I understand what a sensitive boy you are ---- I would not wish for such a thing as a cold draught to upset your delicate constitution."
Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Clenching his jaw, he turned his attention hurriedly back to his equations, jaw clenching instinctively. "I'm fine, sir," he told him in the iciest voice he could muster.
----Please, just let him go back to his work ---- please just make him ignore me ----
His mental plea went unheeded. Snape set down his quill, apparently deciding that the young boy had not yet suffered enough. A smirk curved at the corner of his thin mouth.
"You know, Mr Potter, I've been thinking about you --- wondering why you seem to feel this need to disrupt my lessons as often as possible. I believe I have finally reached a conclusion on the matter. Would you like to hear it?"
The boy, wisely, chose to remain silent. He could feel his face burning scarlet with rage and shame. The Professor, however, didn't seem to notice --- or at least if he did, he chose to continue undaunted.
"It is my belief that your obvious faults stem from a natural impertinence. You see, in many ways, children are a lot like dogs. A young dog is bright and attentive --- eager to please. You can teach a pup to do anything, and the environment that that dog finds itself will influence its character and behavior for the rest of its life. However, once it reaches a certain age, the learning capacity virtually shuts off. As they say, you cannot teach an old dog new tricks. Do you see my point?"
Harry lowered his head and continued writing furiously, trying his best to ignore the softly spoken words. It was no good - he could feel Snape's pitiless eyes boring into his skull. His wand hand was burning with the desire to hex him --- to wipe that smug, self-congratulatory smirk off the teachers face once and for all. Oh, there were a thousand things that he would have loved to do to Snape --- and none of them good. Right now he was contemplating how easy it would be to zap him into a toad, or slug, or something else particularly nasty.
"You, Harry Potter, are an old dog. The behavior instilled in you by your Muggle upbringing means that you will never truly be rid of your insolent nature. You cannot teach an old dog --- you can only punish it."
The dark haired boy was seething with ill-disguised rage. He often wondered exactly why it was that Snape seemed to take particular delight in torturing him. Since day one he had been singled out. Not to imply that Snape was particularly nice to anyone, but it bothered Harry the way that it was always he who took the brunt of the teachers malicious nature.
True, he had once saved Harry's life --- and for that he would always be indebted ---- but that was about as far as their relationship went. Snape hated Harry and Harry hated Snape. The dislike was mutual.
But still --- that didn't make the experience any easier to bear.
Gritting his teeth tightly, he took a deep breath and look up. The Professor was watching him intently, dark glee glinting in his fathomless eyes.
"I think I need more Armadillo Bile, sir."
"What's this? No retaliation? No self-righteous come back?" Severus sneered. "Potter boy, you seem to be loosing your edge."
Harry was gripping his quill so tightly that the tips of his fingers had turned white. He wasn't in the mood for Snape's twisted games --- not today. He had been up all night with a particularly long essay of the Wizarding Wars of 1362, and his head was now throbbing painfully.
He blinked and stared at the teacher. Snape stared back through the heavy curtain of black hair. Their was a long moment of silence.
Finally, Harry spoke, voice soft with malice. "What do you want me to say, sir?"
"The truth. Tell me boy --- what do you really think of me?"
The truth? The truth would probably get Harry expelled. Normally, he would have just let the question slip by and gone back to his school work -- - but not today. He wasn't a stubborn or obstinate boy, but he did have pride. He resented being called a dog, and the mood he was in, he wasn't prepared to just ignore the abuse.
If Professor Snape wanted the truth, Harry would give it to him. The knowledge that it would probably cost him half his House Points suddenly seemed inconsequential.
"Truthfully sir, I think you're a bully."
Severus made no movement, save for the lifting of one eyebrow. "Indeed?" he purred. "Go on."
The green eyed boy was a little surprised. He had expected at least some kind of retaliation. This was obviously some kind of ruse to get him into even deeper trouble, but for some reason Harry was willing to play the game, even if it got him detention for life. Severus Snape needed to be told a few home truths --- and Harry was going to be the one to tell him.
His young face gained a hard edge, gaze narrowing. "I think that you're a bitter and twisted old man. You're just a coward that picks on kids to give him some sense of self-importance. You might not be working for Voldemort anymore, but that doesn't make you a nice person --- Dumbledore probably only took you on as a charity case. You have no family --- no friends --- and to be honest, I can understand why. You're cold, you're ugly, and you're mean, and I don't think I've ever hated anyone so much as I hate you."
Harry paused, realizing what he had said, and then looked away. He was breathing hard and shaking with fury. He didn't dare look up. He had stepped over the line and he knew it.
"At least that's my opinion --- *sir*."
His words were met by painfully long silence.
Severus didn't say anything. He stared unblinkingly at the boy with intense onyx eyes. His expression was impossible to read, blank and emotionless --- like a pale mask. There no hint of what he might be thinking or feeling, just a cold detached nothingness.
After a lengthy moment, he seemed to return to himself. He straightened suddenly, ghostly white hands cupping on the desk in front of him, and gave a brief nod. "Very well Potter, you may go."
Harry frowned. That hadn't been the answer that he had been expecting. "Go where?"
"Wherever you want to, boy. Your detention is over."
It took a minute or two for Snape's coldly spoken words to sink in. The young boy paused doubtfully and glanced at the hour-glass on the front desk. He was barely ten minutes into his detention. He wasn't due to leave for the better part of an hour --- and Professor Snape was letting him go? It made no sense.
He blinked quickly behind his glasses. "I'm sorry, sir?"
"Are you deaf as well as condescending, Potter?" Severus scowled darkly at him for a moment longer, then picked up his quill. He turned his attention back to the pile of parchments before him. "I said that your punishment is finished. You may leave."
Harry wasn't sure what to do. The bravo that had filled him only minutes before hand had all but faded away, replaced by a fearful confusion. He had made a big mistake in insulting Snape to his face --- he knew that. There was something dangerous about the way that the Potions Master was bent over his desk. His face was obscured by a heavy curtain of unwashed black-hair, his whole body tensed - poised tautly like a cat waiting to spring.
Harry was motionless for a moment. Then, slowly, he began to gather his books and put them into his bag, all the time watching Snape uneasily. The older man seemed determined to ignore him --- something that did little to comfort the boy. He wondered what devilish plot the Slytherin Head was thinking up. Whatever it was, it probably involved Harry being expelled. Or tortured. Most likely a combination of the two.
He slid out of his chair and began to walk tentatively across the room. Snape continued to work on the sheets of parchment, quill scratching furiously as he made corrections. Harry had almost reached the door when he finaly spoke.
"And Potter?"
Harry froze. "Yes, Professor?"
Severus didn't look up. "You've been looking a little pale of late. I suggest you wrap up against the winter. Wouldn't want anything to upset that delicate constitution of yours now, would we?"
---Smarmy git --- The boy thought to himself. Any regrets that he had felt at telling Snape how he felt suddenly disappeared. Almost. A nagging feeling of guilt was squirming uncomfortably in his gut, but his indignation at the sly remark stopped him from acting on it.
"I'll keep that in mind, sir."
Throwing the door open, Harry Potter strode out of the classroom in a blaze of black robes, emerald eyes flashing.
He didn't give the Professor a second glance.