Snape led Harry to the enormous collection of books that lined the outside of the entire room, and ran a long pale finger over a shelf, collecting a large amount of dust.
''You are the first to use this library for some time, Potter,'' he murmured absently, as his eyes scanned the bindings of those books closest to him, an intense frown adorning his features as he searched their titles.
Snape muttered a cleaning charm and Harry took a moment to crane his neck upwards and acknowledge just how vast the collection was. There were thousands of books... Maybe more. He could hardly count.
''Close your mouth, Potter and come closer,'' Snape motioned to his side with a jerky, irritated movement of his arm. ''Do not be so pathetic and act now as though you are afraid of me.''
''I'm not afraid of you!'' Harry exclaimed, scowling.
Snape raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the boy, stifling a sigh. ''Then do not make me shout by distancing yourself so far from me that I have to raise my voice to be heard.''
Harry gave a short nod and stowed his hands in his pockets.
"These, Mr. Potter are known as books. I trust you know of their purpose?'' Snape's voice forced Harry's focus back onto the shelves in front of him.
Harry rolled his eyes, hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. He was sick to his back teeth of the man's snide insults. "No, sir I haven't a clue, would you care to enlighten me?"
''If you wish,'' Snape drawled, though Harry could have sworn something close to an amused expression briefly flittered across the man's face, at Harry's attempt to humour him.
Harry blinked and stared, but the unfamiliar look had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He sighed and followed Snape's now pointing finger to a chair that held a number of old, and new looking volumes that he'd obviously been collecting earlier when he'd first woken. He now handed them to Harry.
''Where did you get all these books?'' Harry couldn't help but ask as he bundled them awkwardly into his arms. ''You can't have read all of them.'' He glanced upwards, wonder in his eyes. ''There must be-''
''Just under ten thousand,'' Snape remarked, watching Harry's facial expressions with interest. The boy had done nothing but mope since the moment he'd got here. It made a difference, and not an entirely unpleasant one, to see that he was capable of more.
However, wonder and curiosity was dangerous, as Harry had already proved, and Snape was quick to warn him against recklessness with his property.
''I do not know them all by name, nor have I dedicated much of my time to discovering the many secrets that lie within their pages... But they are mine, Potter and needless to say they are very important to me.''
He fixed Harry with a firm stare and the boy nodded his understanding.
''Therefore,'' he continued slowly, in a tone nothing short of threatening, ''I hardly need to ask for your complete and utter responsibility when using them as a resource.''
''Yes, sir.''
Snape nodded curtly and motioned once again for Harry to follow him.
"I do expect these read, Potter. This is not an idle task that I am setting you. You must read them to the best of your abilities.''
Harry swallowed and opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. He bit his tongue but the impulse to complain however, did not go unnoticed to Snape.
''I am expecting no miracles, Potter,'' he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice, ''they are not an easy text and as much as you may loathe it, you shall be required to work this summer. It will demand of you a greater amount of exertion than that of which you apply to your school studies, if you wish to learn anything of importance.''
He paused and flinched slightly before he continued as if he was forcing himself to say something. ''If you cannot comprehend anything of what you read, after serious study, you are to ask me, is that clear?''
Harry looked at Snape in surprise. Ask who? Him? Surely not. He must have only offered assistance for formalities sake. Snape had never offered him any sort of outer lesson help before, not even in class when he was so desperately in need of it.
The man's extreme reluctance to co-operate with him, in any shape of form, was only too clear in the tightening of his jaw, just one of the signs of displeasure he emitted, as he spoke. Harry severely doubted Snape's sincerity and only just held in a snort.
''I mean it, Potter,'' Snape frowned at the expression on Harry's face and, for a moment, he did look extremely serious. ''You must put your preferences aside and communicate with me if you wish to succeed at all in your training.''
Harry remained uncomfortable but he couldn't outright refuse the man's help, not when he was actually making an effort. Snape was all he had for this training after all- no Dumbledore, no Hermione, nobody. He needed to get used to that fact.
''Alright,'' he agreed, vowing to hit the roof if Snape was as inconsistent in this as he was everything else.
''Have no doubts that you will be tested on them,'' Snape continued when he was sure Harry was being truthful to him. ''You have been warned. This is not Hogwarts. You shall not receive detentions for lack of work. I shall simply have you returned to your relatives and I shall be free to enjoy my summer. Alone.''
''I'll read it,'' Harry assured him. "I do know how to treat books, sir! Having Hermione as a friend and spending half your time in the library taught me a few things you know!"
Snape's mouth twitched and Harry visibly relaxed as some of the tension left the man's shoulders. "We shall see.''
Harry nodded and put the books away safely until the end of the lesson.
''Now, Potter,'' Snape murmured finally as he took the seat opposite the Gryffindor. ''I presume you learnt at least something of relevant significance from your Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher last year, impostor or not...''
Over the next hour they went over basic Defence Against The Dark Arts, Snape's lecture turning more into conversation as he became quickly aware of just how much Harry knew on the subject. His quick fired questions at the boy were answered to his satisfaction, without a great amount of hesitation.
Harry had not achieved his high grades for nothing it seemed, though there were wide, dangerous gaps in his knowledge, and in his skill, that needed filling and others which needed intensifying if it were to be beneficial enough to take effect against Voldemort.
Harry did, Snape was rapidly forced to admit, seem wiser on the subject and more naturally capable than many of the other students his age, certainly some of his Slytherin's, despite his shocking performance on his first task.
Though Harry's limited knowledge, being no fault of his own, reminded him once again that he was only a teenager and his magic was still far from fully developed. They had a lot of work to do. The foundations however, were solidly there and Snape could not decide yet whether this more pleased or irritated him.
He chose next to try something a little more practical. He pointed out to Harry a few more books he thought would be appropriate, now that he knew more about his theoretical capabilities, and gave him permission to read them if he so wished. To his surprise, Harry seemed more than keen, and took a couple of the more interesting versions off the shelves to take away, the first sign of willing partition to this agreement this summer.
Harry collected the books into his arms and set them down with the others, feeling the first small measure of motivation. He was good at Defence Against The Dark Arts; he could do it naturally unlike occlumency and potions, and if he wasn't very much mistaken Snape now acknowledged this too.
He hadn't missed Snape's less than subtle attempts to catch him out, but Lupin had taught him well and he was adequately prepared for the man's intense testing. So he took the books with something akin to enthusiasm, not having had the chance to read such ancient literature before. They intrigued him, along with the ability to surprise Severus Snape into reluctant recognition.
"Tell me, Potter," Snape murmured, running his wand through his long, chalk white fingers. Harry's eyes widened as the wand moved to point directly at his face. "What do you know of duelling?"
"It's- It's when witches or wizards fight…" Harry said, still eyeing the wand cautiously. He wouldn't put it past his professor to blow him to smithereens if he said the wrong thing. He'd been on the receiving end of one of Snape's curses already today, he wasn't keen to experience another so soon. ''With magic...'' he finished lamely. It sounded poor even to his own ears.
"Very, insightful, Potter," Snape said sarcastically, refraining from rolling his eyes. "A true textbook definition, congratulations."
He lowered his wand, to Harry's immense relief, and moved them into the middle of the room onto the wooden area of the floor. Harry eyed, with curiosity, the lines and patterns that he'd noticed earlier, and looked up in expectation as Snape began to explain to him their significance, including all the finer points of professional duelling.
Harry drew his own wand as he listened but his attention quickly strayed. His eyes moved away from Snape's pale face, onto on object, situated just to the left of the man's head. His heart began to pound wildly in his chest as he read the name on the cover of a particularly ancient book.
Snape deliberately waited until he'd finished his explanation until reprimanding his pupil. If the boy thought he was above his teaching, he'd pay the consequences.
"Potter? Potter!" he snapped suddenly as his lecture drew to a close, "have you been confounded you dim-witted fool?" He struck Harry with a moderate stinging curse, making him jump up and yell in pain and surprise.
"Ah, welcome back,'' he said, a cruel smile curving his lips to let Harry know exactly what he was in for, ''care to tell me where you've been for the past five minutes?"
"Wha- Oh…Professor…is that…is that Quidditch through the centuries?" Harry asked with an awe struck expression, coming out of his daze, apparently oblivious to the danger he was in.
Snape followed Harry's disbelieving eyes and pointing finger to a shelf just above his own head.
"Indeed," he answered reluctantly. The boy was so predictable. He should have hidden it.
"I thought… Sir, that's so rare! Ron said there were only five copies ever made and they were only ever published in Russia or something," Harry breathed, trying in vain to control his excitement.
Who would ever have thought that Snape would have a copy of the rare book? He and Ron had spent many memorable occasions, over the previous year, searching the castle for the text and coming up with crazy ideas as to where one of the famous copies could be, and what witches and wizards over the world had them. Hermione had first told them, in passing conversation, unaware at the time as to the havoc it would cause, that there was any such book ...
And now there it was. Harry had found one and it was in arms reach.
"That is correct," Snape replied, watching Harry's face alight with excitement and pure awe. It made him look ridiculously young. ''If there's any suspicious puddles to be appearing on my floor in the next few minutes, Potter, I suggest that you warn me now,'' he sneered, though there was a definite amused glint in his eyes.
Harry couldn't even find the will to scowl at Snape. His eyes were glued to the book as though it would disappear if he dared look away. Maybe he was being childish but he didn't care. Quidditch was one of his passions, something close to his heart and he'd longed to read this book, along with half of the wizzarding world he suspected, for quite some time.
This book could quite possibly be his salvation this summer. God knows he needed a distraction.
''I didn't know you liked Quidditch, sir,'' Harry said after a sudden, hilarious thought. He held back a grin and eyed his Professor with curiosity. The idea of Snape on a broomstick, attempting to play the game was hysterical.
Snape didn't miss Harry's slight snigger and his lip curled unpleasantly, a faint flush appearing on his sallow cheeks. ''I despise Quidditch, Potter,'' he snarled, ''only glory hungry fools such as yourself would consider it a worthy sport. Something you inherited from your father of course.''
Harry's eyes flew back to Snape and this time he did scowl. ''Then why do you have a book on Quidditch if you don't even-''
''I have many books I do not much care for, Potter,'' Snape replied impatiently, ''not that it has the slightest thing to do with you. Now back to the lesson...''
"I have Quidditch through the ages," Harry rushed on, looking up at his professor and forgetting for a moment the hostility between them in his enthusiasm about the book, "It was a Christmas present. You confiscated it off me in first year remember? I went to get it back and that's where I saw you with your leg cut-"
"Potter, this better be going somewhere-" Snape warned, already bored.
"Yes, sir," Harry said quickly but on reading the look on Snape's face, he hesitated, losing confidence, "but it… well, it doesn't matter really…"
Harry dropped his eyes and looked at his feet, remembering very suddenly where he was and who it was he was talking to.
Snape rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what Harry wanted to ask. "What have I told you? If you want to know something-"
"Can I read it?' Harry burst, all caution thrown to the wind. What was the worst that could happen? "Please. I'd do anything."
There was a pause in which Snape regarded him with first surprise, and then curiosity. He hadn't known the boy was that honestly taken with Quidditch. He'd assumed he'd appreciated the sport as a resource by which to feed his hunger for popularity and further fame.
"Anything?" Snape raised an eyebrow.
Harry swallowed.
"Never offer promises you can't fulfil, Potter. There are people in this world who would hold you to them,'' Snape warned with a small smirk at Harry's worried expression. ''Relax, Potter. I am not going to propose anything proposterous.''
He ran a finger across his own bottom lip, eyeing Harry with narrowed eyes. He thought carefully about Harry's question and had to admit he could see how this unexpected situation could be used to his advantage. If the book would give the boy an incentive to work harder, he'd gladly offer it up as a reward. He'd no personal attachment to it and money had never really been much of an appeal to him.
Whether or not he'd actually let the book up on Harry's achievements was another matter. He seriously doubted whether the boy would even make it to the end of the week, let alone the summer which would conveniently take any such decision conveniently out of his hands anyhow.
''Do well in this first lesson and read those books there, and I may consider it," Snape said slowly.
Obvious shock and then delight registered on Harry's face. Snape internally rolled his eyes again at his lack of control over expressing his emotions.
Though he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on Harry's face longer than he usually would have done. The boy looked so different when he actually smiled, something he rarely did in his presence. It made him look younger and more carefree than the Harry he knew, and he felt a sudden rush of... something.
Snape frowned and for one, insane moment he felt like he did not know the boy at all. It was a mad thought and he quickly brushed it aside.
"It's translated?" Harry asked, his eyes threatening to pop out of his head. He couldn't believe he was actually happy in Snape's presence.
"It is," Snape answered, convincing himself that he was doing this for his own selfish means and not for the boy. "But..." He held up a warning finger, determined to increase this deal even more in his own favour, "you must read those…" He pointed at the pile of books on the chair, "first and comprehend them to my satisfaction.''
Harry nodded, vowing to stay up all night and read them if he had to. He would have hugged the person who'd given him this blessing were it anyone but Snape.
''So... Duelling then, Sir?'' He said, eyes wandering back to the book.
Snape snapped his wand so fast Harry barely saw him move. Black steel shutters clattered to life and rolled down over the books, effectively covering them from sight. Harry knew that he was now going to pay for his lapse in concentration earlier.
"Yes, Potter that is what I said," Snape said, now finally gaining Harry's full attention and intending to keep it, "and seeing as I have just explained to you everything you need to know in order to duel efficiently and seeing as you were listening so… attentively, we shall now begin."
He bowed shortly to Harry who had very quickly adopted a panicked expression.
Before he could utter a single objection however, he saw Snape raise his wand and attempted to dive out of the way of yet another stinging hex, using all the speed and flexibility he had naturally and that he'd developed as a seeker.
His eyes shot down in shock to the pain that had erupted on his arm, hardly able to believe that Snape had actually cursed him. His arm was red and blistering where the spell had burnt him, taking away all the tiny hairs.
Harry caught Snape's eye and the man smirked wickedly and raised an eyebrow.
Harry gulped. Snape wasn't going to hold back.
Before Harry could so much as say a prayer, Snape had sent another, more powerful, stinging hex his way. He felt the pain on his arm intensify, and with an ungraceful string of profanities, he scrambled to his feet.
Snape didn't stop there, he hurled hexes, jinxes and curses mercilessly at Harry in quick succession, barely giving his time to think or react, which Harry knew was exactly the point. His spells, most of which Harry was unfamiliar with, bounced off the various items strewn around the room.
It took Harry some time to get his bearings and then he was directing hexes of his own. He himself was hit numerous times, whereas not one of his spells met their target. He knew Snape must be enjoying this immensely, an excuse to kill him and make it look like an accident…
Even in Harry's own obvious lack of experience he could tell that Snape was a fine dueller. He didn't seem to stop for breath as he thought on his feet, cloak swirling, as he moved round like an overgrown bat.
Harry could almost have admitted that he was slightly in awe of his Potions Master in this moment. He was so graceful... so focused.
A curse hit Harry squarely in the chest and he doubled over, heaving. He groaned loudly and dismissed any further compliments that he'd associated with the man.
''Up you get, Potter. It didn't hurt that much.'' Snape appeared at his side, smirking down at him with something that could only be described as satisfaction. A boot was pressed to his stomach and Harry's groan intensified, as did the pain.
Harry tried to push him off but Snape only pressed down harder, so much so that Harry had trouble breathing.
''You must be faster,'' Snape informed him, almost casually, as though he weren't pinning Harry to the floor with his weight, ''aim at me, Potter. Not the walls.''
Harry growled and struggled to his feet, effectively dislodging Snape's foot. He held out his wand and pointed it at the man but somehow this seemed to unbalance him. His shaking legs crumbled beneath him and he was on the floor once more.
Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry thought it looked like the man was holding in a laugh. Impossible.
''Perhaps a break?'' Snape suggested and disappeared from Harry's line of sight.
Harry forced himself, more carefully this time, into a standing position and slumped down in the nearest chair, dripping in sweat.
Once he had his breath back, he transfigured a cushion into a glass and croaked, "Argumenti," so damn thirsty Snape could yell at him until the cows came home for touching his things and he wouldn't care.
He glanced over at his mentor who, infuriatingly, looked no worse for wear. There were a few scorch marks in the hems of his robes and his face was a little redder than usual, but you'd think that he'd done nothing more than gone for a brisk jog.
Harry didn't need Snape's negative comments to know he hadn't done well.
"Not the best first attempt I have ever witnessed from one so inexperienced, Potter,'' he said critically, "your spells were constantly misplaced. You were firing them at high speed but your body was unable to keep up. They must be one. I suggest you slow it down until you can match speed with accuracy."
"But you were going so fast!" Harry argued, "how was I to keep up when I could hardly think about anything but dodging your spells?"
"You expect the Dark Lord to slow down for your sake, for I can assure you he will not-"
"I know! I'm not saying he would but I can't keep up with you at the moment! Couldn't we slow it down? Just for now? Just until I learn a little more, so that I can be more aware of what I am doing?"
"Very well, if you feel you will learn better this way," Snape consented reluctantly. As with anything Harry said, he didn't want to be instantly agreeable but this did seem to make sense. He'd never thought the boy capable of making a sensible suggestion.
Harry looked grateful but his face contorted in pain a moment later, and he clutched a stitch in his side.
"I would have thought your stamina slightly more inept, as you are a seeker are you not?" Snape frowned, "does that not require a certain amount of fitness?"
Harry looked up at him with an incredulous expression. "Slightly different being sat on a broom to…to that!" He motioned to the area where they'd been duelling.
Snape smirked. "Practice will make perfect, Potter. Perhaps I should also set up an exercise program for you?"
Harry glared at him but took the point. He would get himself fit.
They practiced for the next three hours, taking a break with each half- hour, before stopping for lunch. Harry was improving before their very eyes. He was beginning to anticipate Snape's moves more and more and, although he could not yet hit his opponent, there had been a few close shaves.
Snape was forced, however reluctantly, to accept that Harry had potential to become a fine dueller when he put his mind to it. He had the natural movement and co-ordination that took most people years to prefect. Practice could indeed make perfect in this case.
"Your speed is becoming acceptable," Snape complimented lightly as he summoned a table and chairs. Despite himself, Snape had quite enjoyed their duelling. The boy was not a bad opponent, even in his inexperience and it had been a while since he'd had the chance to duel. The oppertunity to curse Harry had just been a bonus.
The room had provided appropriate nourishment at Snape's command, much to Harry's gratification. He sat down immediately and looked up at Snape, a question on his face.
Snape nodded shortly and the boy made a small, appreciative sound in the back of his throat, and began eating. Snape's lip curled in discomfort and he sat down opposite Harry, resisting the urge to leave and break for a while on his own.
He was confined to this space until the lesson was over. He knew that if he left now, he'd be far more reluctant to return. This more personal setting was far less to his liking than that where he and the boy were clearly in a situation that defined them as student-teacher.
Here, it was much harder to set boundaries and keep Harry, and all his harmless attempts at making conversation, at a distance.
He watched Harry covertly as he ate, while touching nothing himself. He never did have much of an apetite, and it was even less so in Harry's company.
"Your accuracy is also improving,'' he said eventually, as the boy looked as though he were about to say something, and rather than deter any awkward questions, he steered the conversation to where he felt more comfortable.
''Those books I gave you…you will find more spells in there, some not taught at Hogwarts, but useful regardless. I suggest that you practice a few to determine whether or not they are to your liking.''
Harry nodded, mouth full of food. "What are we doing after lunch? More duelling?" He asked between mouthfuls.
"No," Snape said and the relief showed on his student's face. "I have many other things to teach you apart from how to fight."
"What else are you teaching me then?"
"Overall, as you are already aware, I hope to exercise you into some sort of presentable state in which to fight the Dark Lord,'' he answered calmly, picking up a bread roll and eyeing it half heartedly as if he were deciding whether or not to eat it.
''And how are you going to do that?'' Harry asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
Snape was silent for a moment, as if considering this, then he motioned for Harry to pass the butter, which he did, and remained tight lipped as he prepared his roll.
Harry became more conscious about the informal way in which he had eating, now that most of his immediate hunger had been satisfied, and watched Snape in order to follow in his lead and eat with a little more decorum. He didn't want Snape to think him ill-mannered at the table as well as everything else.
''Did Dumbledore give you a plan?'' he prompted.
''No,'' Snape replied finally. ''He did not give me a plan.''
''Then what?'' Harry asked, getting irritated with Snape's unwillingness to talk to him. Was he really such unbearable company? Perhaps he was expected to sit here in silence like Snape would have preferred.
''I have a schedule of my own. While you are here I may as well brush you up a little on your abysmal potions skills. Otherwise you may struggle to even pass fifth year at all."
He gave a second to appreciate this insult before continuing. "Also occlumency… Yes, Potter occlumency. This was especially requested by the Headmaster, otherwise I would never have suggested it. Although I do agree, it is imperative you learn it with the connection your mind holds with the Dark Lord.''
He raised the roll to his mouth and bit at the corner as Harry watched curiously. He refused to believe that he was fascinated by Snape but, with the more time he spent with him, Harry was further intrigued by the man's ways. There were some deep seated disturbances in the man, that was for sure. He barely ate, he spoke so formally... He wore thick robes at all hours of the day, aside from breakfast.
Even now Harry could tell that he disliked making eye contact with him for any significant length of time...that it disturbed Snape to look at him too closely and have him look back at him, in the eyes, in return.
He would only look at him properly... and give him that look - the intense one that Harry found so uncomfortable when he was trying to make a point - or when he was absorbed in his verbal cursing of Harry, and his father.
''Don't look at me like that, Potter,'' Snape said without looking up, his voice much softer than Harry was used to. It was almost resigned. He probably expected Harry was scowling at him and was weary of it. Harry would have argued to the contrary if he'd thought Snape would appreciate it.
''So, what else-'' Harry begun but Snape spoke over him.
''I'll teach you other various things… the Headmaster has given me a substantial amount of flexibility. I shall teach you, in short Potter, all that is appropriate...I shall teach you everything that I know.''
Harry nodded again and a sudden thought struck him as everything Snape had sent begun to sink in. 'He'd teach him everything he knew'...
''You really don't want to be doing this do you, sir?'' he said quietly.
Snape gave him a strange look. ''If you have just worked that out, Potter there is something seriously wrong wi-''
"No, of course I knew! It's just…well...You really don't want to be doing this. I don't want to apologise because it's not my fault… but I know you don't like me...at all, and you've got me stuck here for a whole summer, and I guess that's quite a responsibility isn't it? Having to teach me all this stuff…" he said awkwardly.
He didn't even know why he cared, it just seemed wierd, when he thought about it, and slightly wrong that the man should be put under so much pressure to do something he detested.
"It is my job to teach, Potter," Snape said shortly, obviously having no desire to talk about this.
"Not in the summer."
"No, but this was requested especially by the Headmaster. I couldn't very well refuse-"
"Exactly. Can't be nice... And it is your responsibility. If I'm not ready, it will be your faul-''
"It'll be no such thing!" Snape snapped harshly, silencing Harry. "What you learn from me is entirely down to you. I have already informed the Headmaster of this. There shall only be half the effort on my part.''
''Yes, I know-''
''Don't forget, Potter," Snape added, growing angry, "it is in my best interests to see the Dark Lord vanquished also, so training the 'Chosen One' to do such a thing will eventually… hopefully, if you get your act together, work out to my advantage. I am not a selfless man as you know, Potter. Not all of what I do is done in the name of Albus Dumbledore and the greater good. "
He rose to his feet and brushed down the front of his robes. ''Just finish your lunch,'' he said curtly, abandoning the idea of eating, and left Harry to his thoughts.
