Chapter Three

The next day, the Slytherin sixth-year boys heard their new roommate grumbling behind the curtains. Snape changed into a bathrobe under cover of his bedside curtains, then slunk off to the showers. He emerged a few minutes later, clean but with lank and limp hair. Apparently even shampoo couldn't do much to save it.

Once dressed, he then gathered his rucksack and headed out the door. When Draco and his cronies reached the Great Hall, Snape was nowhere in sight. A few minutes later, he came through the door, clutching an equally thick book than the one from last night. This one bore a small sticker indicating it was a library book.

"Snape! Come sit here!"

The teen looked at Draco with a hint of surprise; then trudged over, dragging his heavy bag. He helped himself to breakfast and began shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth with one hand while holding the massive book open with the other. The book provided a convenient shield from the curious stares and whispers of the other students.

"What classes are you in?"

Snape apparently accepted that Draco wasn't going to leave him alone. He pulled out his list of classes and handed it over without interrupting his meal.

"We're in Potions and Defense together. I'll save you a seat."

"Okay."

The large clock boomed out the hour. "Crap, gotta go!" Draco yelled, grabbing his bag. Crabbe and Goyle shuffled after him. Snape grabbed his book and headed in the opposite direction.

They did not meet up again until Potions. Draco patted the seat next to him as Severus walked in. Zabini looked put out. Apparently Snape had usurped his seat. The Slytherin sat down and pulled out his Advanced Potions book, flipped to a page, and promptly began making notes in the margins.

Draco craned his neck. "What are you doing?"

Severus did not look up. "Making improvements." He glanced pointedly at the large desk at the front of the room. "Where's the professor?"

Blaise snickered. "He likes to make an entrance."

Sure enough, the exact second that classes were to begin, the door banged open and Professor Snape strode in. "Today we will be making the Ptolemus Serum. Do observe closely. If the ingredients are not properly prepared – in the proper manner, proper quantities, and proper order – the potion will explode. Needless to say, this will result in a failing grade for today's exercise. Rather than working in teams, you will each be brewing separate potions." He glanced scornfully at his small class. "I require an assistant for this lesson. Mister Snape, come up here. Bring your knife."

The professor lectured on the properties and purpose of the potion. He then gestured to the cabinet in the corner. "Gather your ingredients and take them back to your seats." Once that was finished, Snape gestured to his younger self. "The wheatgrass roots must be finely chopped. Take care to not tear them. Mister Snape, please demonstrate." With a flash of his knife, the young Slytherin quickly and efficiently chopped the roots. "The boiled doxy eggs must be shelled. Do not puncture the inner skin of the egg, or its contents will prematurely leach into the potion and cause it to explode." Mister Snape picked up an egg, which was the size of a pea. He lightly tapped the egg with the flat side of his blade until fine cracks appeared. He pulled the shell fragments away from the egg with amazing speed, until he was left with a perfectly bare sphere. "In this particular potion, timing is crucial, so I advise preparing your ingredients ahead of time. You may begin now."

Severus returned to his seat and began industriously preparing the potion. He finished far sooner than anyone else. Professor Snape nodded approvingly. "Have you added an agent to speed the reaction?"

"I used a few grains of anise seed."

"Very good. I will award extra credit. Since you completed your assignment early, you may start on an independent project of your own."

Severus looked like he'd won the lottery. He fairly floated to the Potions cabinet. Meanwhile, Hermione was nearly done – her potion was perfect, but she looked mutinous. Apparently departing from the book's instructions went against the grain.

A loud explosion sounded. Ron slumped in his seat, morosely staring at the blackened mess. Snape directed a sneer in his direction. Hermione looked aggravated but helped him clean up the mess anyway. Meanwhile, she almost forgot to remove her own potion from the fire, causing it to congeal slightly. Harry's potion was entirely the wrong color. Draco and Blaise did fairly well, but nothing spectacular.

"You could've shared the secret of the anise seeds with us!" Blaise grumbled as class was dismissed.

"Don't mind him," Draco said soothingly. Severus got the feeling that Draco was up to something, no doubt trying to kiss up. "Could you help me with my cutting technique sometime?"

"I suppose."

"How'd you get so good at it, anyway?"

Snape's face became much more animated. "Oh, I've been handling a knife ever since I learned to walk. Mum was always very good at Potions. You'd be surprised at how the little things, like the way the blade is held, can influence a potion."

Malfoy looked pleased at finally having found a way to get the teen to open up. The two walked together towards their Defense class, with Blaise trailing, acting as if he wasn't listening in. They were joined in short order by Crabbe and Goyle. "Sounds like your mum taught you a lot."

"Oh yeah. Not just Potions either. All kinds of spells, including hexes and jinxes. I've made up a few of my own too. I'm glad she didn't believe in that rubbish about not having wizards do magic before they get to school."

Draco snickered. His parents had exactly the same attitude. "What about your father? Was he good at potions too?"

Snape clenched his jaw, his expression hardening. "He's an arse. I don't want to talk about him." To change the subject, he asked, "How's your dad been? Last I remember, Abraxus was trying to get him in touch with some high-profile Ministry contacts."

It was Draco's turn to look uncomfortable. He pulled Snape into an alcove. "Father's in Azkaban," he whispered.

Severus looked shocked. "For what? Using too much conditioner?"

Goyle giggled. "What are you laughing for, stupid?" Draco sneered. "Your father's in jail too." He lowered his voice. "Our fathers were caught supporting the Dark Lord. It's all stupid Potter's fault, of course. But just you wait. Our lord does not forget loyalty. He'll break them out sooner or later."

Snape frowned. "But if your fathers are in jail, wouldn't that mean they failed? If this lord rewards loyalty, surely he will also punish failure."

Malfoy suddenly didn't look so cocky. "Come on, let's just get to class."

Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught by a nondescript man by the name of Kirby. Severus was very disappointed. After having just been spoiled by an excellent Potions teacher (in his humble opinion), he had hoped to enjoy his other favorite subject. The man made defensive spells sound as exciting as watching paint dry.

He was already familiar with the Defense text, so he used the opportunity to sneak glances at Potter. Apparently this was not the same Potter that he knew, but it might as well have been. The face, the glasses, the walk, the smartarse attitude…. It was James all over again.

Potter must have sensed something, for he turned around to stare at Snape. The Slytherin was pierced by blazing green eyes. Lily's eyes. It didn't take a Master to figure out whose child that was. Damn it all to hell. James had spawned… with *her*. His opinion of Lily's intelligence was totally shot. He couldn't deny how much it stung. Potter narrowed his eyes, and Severus slipped his hand into his pocket, reaching for the handle of his wand. Professor Kirby walked by. Potter turned to face the front of the classroom, and Snape allowed the tension to release from his frame. Draco watched the exchange with relish, elbowing Crabbe and Goyle.

On their way out the door, Potter bumped into him. He supposed it could have been an accident, but the way the Gryffindor glared at him was anything but friendly. "Watch it, Snape," he spat.

"You're one to talk, Potter," he spat in return. "You bumped into me. Rather klutzy of you."

Potter looked like he wanted to say more, but Ron dragged him away. "Come on, mate. He's not worth it."

"Muggle-loving prat," Draco sneered.

Snape started down the large staircase winding its way down to the dungeons. The other Slytherins trailed behind, talking to each other and not paying him much mind. On the way down, a haughty brunette from Hufflepuff laughed to her friends, "Good lord, he's ugly! Nose might as well be a beak." Her laughter was cut short as she tripped, tumbling the rest of the way down the stairs. Her friends gasped and ran after her.

"Awfully clumsy. Must be catching," Severus remarked calmly as he stepped over her battered body. The rest of the onlookers watched him in shocked silence, not daring to say a word.

The student body thought that a young Snape would be an ideal target for their grudge against the elder professor. From the sudden string of "accidents" that followed (one student had his tie singed; another found himself nearly cut in two by his belt), they learned to leave him well enough alone.

Professor McGonagall cornered him after yet another incident. She had actually witnessed it but couldn't definitively prove that he was the cause. "Just watch your step, young man," she warned him sternly. "Students who use jinxes to harm others will be severely punished."

His antics had not gone unnoticed in his own house. That night, he sat in a plush armchair in the Common Room with his feet propped on an ottoman, head bent over a parchment, quill scratching furiously. A fat hand grabbed him by the shoulder and tried to pull him out of his seat. He looked up angrily to see Crabbe's expression change from cross to horrified. "Uh, sorry," he muttered and quickly backed away. After that, Severus kept his wand prominently displayed in his left hand.

He headed upstairs, where he surprised Zabini and Nott playing a card came featuring lewd playing cards. They threw him a nervous glance as he came in. "I'm not going to snitch on you, if that's what you think," he grumbled. "If you're getting into trouble, that's *his* problem, not mine."

Malfoy stared at the book he was carrying. It was obviously a book on the Dark Arts. "Say, isn't that from the Restricted Section?"

"Yeah."

"They let you check that out?"

A slight smirk curled the thin lips. "No."

"Blimey!" Goyle exclaimed. "You know how to nick books from the Restricted Section?"

Before he could answer, a Seventh-Year appeared in the doorway. "Snape. Got any idea why my potion didn't work? I'm supposed to write a roll of parchment about it but I don't have a clue."

Relieved at the change of topic, he asked the upperclassman a few questions about his potion. "You threw in the boomslang skin too soon. It's supposed to come *after* the lacewing flies."

"Thanks!"

Draco eyed him thoughtfully. "You already done with your Potions homework?"

"Yeah."

"Would you give me the answers? I'll make it worth your while."

Snape smirked. "Alright." He pulled out a quill and a fresh roll of parchment. Malfoy grinned slyly at his comrades, who looked dumfounded. Snape wasn't quite what they had been expecting. The Malfoy heir sauntered around the room for a few minutes, then came up behind Snape's chair. He squawked in anger, grabbing the parchment. "Hey! These are the wrong answers!"

Severus grinned. It was almost frightening to see. "I told you I'd give you the answers. Never said they were the *right* answers. If you can tell the difference, then you're perfectly capable of doing the assignment on your own."

"Prat."

"Ponce." He stuck out his tongue, and Draco couldn't help but laugh. Severus had a really odd sense of humor, but he could come to like it. Father hadn't told him many details about Snape, but he had told Draco to keep an eye out for powerful and clever friends. That's why he had tried to befriend Harry Potter, and look how *that* turned out. Father had been right about another thing, too. Snape was one in a million, and truly brilliant wizards usually didn't Sort into Slytherin.

The next day, Severus found himself running to Greenhouse Seven. He slipped inside and saw to his disappointment that Madame Sprout had already begun the lesson. "Come in, come in, have a seat," she said, bustling towards him. He grabbed the first seat available, which was right next to an awkward-looking boy who shrank away.

"Sorry, ma'am. I was trying to get a textbook. No one has the new edition."

"Never you mind that. Mister Longbottom will be happy to share his." His seatmate looked anything but.

Snape pulled the textbook to the middle of the table. Longbottom whimpered and bit his lip. "What is your *problem*?" he asked irritably. The boy's tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. With a hiss of exasperation, Snape bent his head over the book.

"Sorry," Longbottom muttered, staring at his desk.

"Not like I'm going to bite… no matter what you've heard." Snape grabbed the empty pot on the table and began filling it with enriched dirt. Longbottom forced himself to move, clumsily shoveling dirt in as well. Once he got started, his whole demeanor changed. His moves became smoother and more confident. He was in his element.

"Are… are you really a part of Professor Snape?" he asked as they kneaded the earth together, preparing it for the plant shoots.

"Apparently, though I don't feel any different. So I guess I'm just his younger self." He saw his companion flinch. He usually didn't like talking to other students, but this one intrigued him. "You're afraid of him?"

"Oh yes," Longbottom said ruefully. "I'm really bad at Potions. I'd always blow something up or make some sort of mess."

"No wonder you're afraid of Professor Snape. I bet you drove him spare!"

Longbottom chuckled, finally seeing the humor. "I probably did!"

Snape shook his head, watching Longbottom don dragonhide gloves, gently handling the Flaming Snapdragon seedling and placing it into its new pot. "You seem to be much better at Herbology."

"Yes." A flush crept up his neck. "I hope you don't think I'm bragging, but Madame Sprout says she wouldn't be surprised if I took over her job."

"Slughorn said the same thing to me, and I guess it happened."

"Who's Slughorn?"

"He was Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House when I was a student."

"To be honest, it's really weird seeing and talking to a younger version of Professor Snape. He's so creepy it seems impossible to me that he was ever young."

Snape smirked. "Like I just emerged from a cauldron one day?"

"Yeah." Longbottom gave him a sidelong glance, apparently checking to see if he had taken offense.

"Personally, I don't see how you can be good at Herbology and bad at Potions. They practically go hand-in-hand." Severus put on his own well-worn gloves and potted another Snapdragon, ignoring its attempts to incinerate his hands.

"How so?"

"Well, I guess it's possible to be good at Herbology and bad at Potions, but not vice-versa. Magical plants are often key ingredients in potions, and it's important to know how and when to harvest them, and then how to preserve them, if need be."

"Wow. I never thought of that before."

They worked in silence, trying to pot the plants without getting too badly burned. "Time's up, students!" Madame Sprout finally announced, clapping her hands together. "Next class we will explore how to feed and fertilize these plants. Be certain to read the next two chapters in the textbook!"

Snape gathered his belongings and was gone in an instant. Neville stared at his retreating back in bemusement.

Severus dropped by the Potions classroom after classes. "Excellent timing," the professor remarked. "I was just analyzing a sample of the potion involved in our accident. Ironically, I am attempting to use a Separating Solution, but since it was part of the original potion, I'm getting some mixed results." Severus eyed various test tubes – some of them contained clear samples of individual ingredients, but others held bizarre concoctions. One was a sludge-like grey.

Young Snape's eyes lit up. He liked nothing better than a thorny Potions problem. "Can I take a look?" he asked eagerly.

"Be my guest." Snape sat behind his desk and grabbed a sheaf of parchments and an inkpot. A bloodbath of red ink soon appeared on the hapless students' essays.

They worked in companionable silence, the scratching of the student's quill making notes about the potion a counterpart to the professor's grading.

"How have your classes been going?" the professor asked.

Severus did not miss a beat as he passed the contents of one test tube from one beaker to another. "Not too bad. Draco's a bit full of himself, but he's all right. I'm used to that from Lucius, and since Draco's the same age as me, I can tell him to stuff it if I need to." His older self bent his head to conceal a smirk. "Potter doesn't seem to be much different from his father, but at least the other loser Marauders weren't there. Granger's hand seems to be afflicted with a permanent Wingardium Leviosa spell." The professor snorted. "Sat next to Longbottom in Herbology. Boy seems to be terrified of you."

"As well he should be. I greatly doubted if either of us would survive the horrors his cauldron brewed." For a time, the only sound in the room was of quills scratching and potions ingredients sloshing. "Are your classmates causing you any difficulties?"

"Some, but it's nothing I can't handle. As long as they don't gang up like our favorite band of Gryffindor thugs, I think I'll be all right."

"If you run into something that you can't handle, do let me or your fellow Slytherins know right away. I have implemented several changes since Slughorn was Head of House. Slytherins stand up for each other, no matter their personal feelings. The other houses are eager to tear us down, so we must present a united front."

"Thanks, sir," Severus said. He knew that Professor Snape was serious. It was nice to have a professor truly on his side – even Slughorn and Dumbledore never did anything much to stop the bullying he had experienced.

Now that he finally had found someone who recognized his talent and abilities, he was reluctant to leave his presence. "I suppose I'd better get going on my Defense homework. Can I come back soon?"

Professor Snape gave him a look that was almost kind. "For you, my door is always open."