Chapter Nine

"Reflection"


Harry felt thoroughly disgusting as he slid into bed next to Snape. The hook-nosed, greasy-haired man was writing on a piece of parchment, no doubt creating a test that he would duplicate onto others pieces of parchment, by magic, of course.

Harry, nor Snape, had bothered to change out of their robes or clothes underneath. Not a word was exchanged between them – the silence was awkward, but conversation would be even more so. Besides, Snape wanted quiet. Harry didn't really feel like talking, anyhow.

"I still can't date Ginny, can't I?" Harry asked, gloomily.

"No, Potter – you can't." Snape said. "Do you see the point in it? You will be spending every evening and night in my company, and unless you want to put your girlfriend through what we are, I suggest you break it off." He didn't say it as a suggestion – he said it as an order.

How am I supposed to tell Ginny? He thought, feeling sick at the thought. 'Hey Ginny, you are my world, I love you and want to be the father of your children, but am instead going to practicallymarry this slimy excuse of a Potions teacher'?

How would it hurt her least? By telling her the truth, right? Ginny would much rather know that I love her and want to be with her than thinking I don't... but how will it hurt me least? I... I don't think I can tell her the truth. To speak it out loud? That would be... defeat.

Truth be told, Harry knew that whether he spoke the words out loud or not, he would have to spend the rest of his life with Professor Severus Snape. But saying the words out loud would make it so much more real, so much less of a nightmare or more of a reality, so less of a haze that gave Harry horrible feelings in his stomach that made him think his insides were being strangled.

Harry opened his Transfiguration book and tried to concentrate, but found it too hard. Maybe I should send her a letter? What could I say? 'Dear Ginny, I didn't know how to tell you, so...' no. Oh, and what are the Weasley's going to think of me now? Ron won't admit it, but he's proud that his sister is dating The-Boy-Who-Lived, and Mrs. Weasley! She is practically planning the wedding now! Oh Merlin, I need the Weasleys... they are the only family I've got! I need them to stand by me!

Meanwhile, Severus was trying to concentrate on creating the tests for the third-years. He knew he could do what the rest of the professors did – write up enough tests for three years of first-years (for example) and just rotate them around. It saved a lot of time and effort, true enough, but Severus needed something to spend the time and effort on. He didn't like to spend time with people, to talk with people, to get to know people, like the other professors, like other people, did. He didn't like to get close to people – whenever you trusted someone and learned to love them, they either betrayed you or die.

Sillyweed, the flank of a Feegle and dried spiders are the basic properties to which Potion? What does the said Potion do?

Coming up with appropriate questions for the right years was actually relatively hard work – Severus liked to challenge his students. Of course, as the Head of House for the Slytherins, he could always put a bug in their ears for what to study up on, but he didn't encourage the cheating. No, they did that all by themselves, but Severus could never scold them for it – he was a Slytherin himself. Trickery and manipulation was in his blood, just as it was in theirs.

Name the ingredients necessary to create one of the three Potions listed below.

Severus liked to make the students think. No, he wasn't like Flitwick who practically gave away answers, who gave multiple choice answers or one word answers. No, if his students weren't thinking, they weren't learning. True, that Granger girl and Draco Malfoy were the only seventh years who knew anything about Potions, but if one student walked away from his class with something in their otherwise empty heads, it was worth it. It was true, he did want to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but until he was given the opportunity, he would teach Potions. At least it was something he was good at – at least he didn't have a job like Filch's.

I would give anything to trade places with Filch right now, Severus wrinkled his nose in distaste at the boy sitting next to him, whose green eyes had stared at the same page in Transfiguration page without blinking, without turning the page. His hatred for the situation he was currently in went further than his mere hatred for the boy. No, it went much deeper; the idea of having to spend the rest of his life with Lily's child tore a hole in his stomach; the idea of having to spend the rest of his life with James' killed him; having to spend the rest of his life with anyone nineteen years his junior was uncomfortable, as well. The idea of being married had never set well with Severus, really. He had dreamed of being with Lily, even after she had married James Potter. But of course, after that one October 31st, it was all ripped from Severus, and he had not only given up on the idea of marriage, but also the ideas of love and people. He distanced himself from everyone he could; teachers retired, students left after seven years, friends would move, die, betray you... no, the only person Severus could really trust was himself, and sometimes he doubted that, even.

There was Dumbledore, and Minerva, of course. But those two had been with him for years, and had been there for him before Lily died and after. They had tried to comfort him, had backed off when he made it evident that he didn't want their comfort, but still always remained close by, just in case. Severus considered them friends – he considered them both trustworthy, even though he didn't agree with how Dumbledore went about treating the Potter boy. But aside from them, Severus had nobody.

Severus glanced back at Potter, who was still staring at the same page of his Transfiguration book. His pale face had grown ever paler over the past twenty-four hours – no doubt it was to a lack of eating. Severus himself had eaten barely anything that day, himself. He had been fretting over their Bond too much to eat.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly. Potter didn't look up from his book, but just stared at it. "I am going down to the Slytherin Common Room." He announced in a gruff voice. "I shall be back shortly."

Half an hour won't hurt at all, he told himself as he stood up and swept towards the door to the infirmary. He stopped, considering checking to make sure that Potter had heard him, but decided against it. He left the infirmary, his robes sweeping elegantly.


You could tell her that you have one of those sexually-transmitted Muggle illnesses, Harry thought. You could tell her that Dudley once have must spit in your ravioli. But where would Dudley have gotten a sexually-transmitted disease?

Okay, scratch that idea, he resumed to the drawing board. You could tell Ginny that you... no... how about... nah... I can't break her heart – I can't. I have to do this gently, and in the best way possible... but how?

You could tell her that you just found out that you are the father of a child... yeah... whose child? Hmm... someone from the War? No, she knows I wouldn't have sex during that kind of situation... from fourth year, from the Tri-Wizard Tournament? Yes... one of those French girls... maybe-

His thoughts were interrupted by Snape clearing his throat. Harry heard him, but just narrowed his eyes, pretending to concentrate on the book. He couldn't put into words how angry he was with Snape – was it enough that he had made Harry's life a living hell in the past seven years? No, he insisted on making it a living hell for the rest of his life. Oh, why didn't Voldemort just kill me? Harry thought, frustrated.

"I am going down to the Slytherin Common Room." Snape was apparently thinking that Harry was listening. Well, he was, but he didn't care. "I shall be back shortly."

What happened to this 'spend every second together between seven and seven'?" Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes unless Snape was watching. He didn't want to give Snape the satisfaction of taking five more points from Gryffindor when, thanks to his constant company with the man, they were behind Slytherin again... which was what Snape, of course, wanted.

Harry felt Snape get up and leave the infirmary. Harry felt his muscles immediately become less tense, his breathing more relaxed. Just being around the man can kill you, Harry thought, bitterly. I'll probably be dead before the end of this school year, at this rate. I'll probably live longer out of his life than in it.

It was still so hard for Harry to wrap his mind around the situation. If he didn't stay close to Snape for a certain amount of time, he'd die? How close was close? Did they have to touch? Eye contact could help, Harry knew, and speaking to each other, though Harry knew that both he and Snape had trouble with the latter.

Maybe we don't have to speak civilly, Harry wryly thought. Speaking to each other rudely is easy. That was true – it was too easy to toss insults at Snape, and come up with cruel nicknames. Unfortunately, Snape was just as creative, or even better at it – his insults fell thick and hard, and he had the power to ruin Harry's last school year by taking away enough House points for them to lose the House cup.

Harry couldn't remember feeling more miserable than he had in the past twenty-four hours. Never ever. Not when he thought Ron had died in the chess game, not when he first saw Voldemort, not when he got bit by the basilisk, not when the entire school thought he was the heir to Slytherin... and more. He hadn't even felt worse when he had thought he was going to die. As a matter of fact, Harry started to wonder if he wanted to die. What if he just went to sleep and never woke up? That would be pleasant enough – he would never have to deal with Snape again.

Harry put his book away and reached for the sleeping drought. Taking a swig of it, he wiped his mouth of the foul tasting stuff and used his wand to extinguish what torches he could in the infirmary (a few were charmed to stay forever lit, so that Madame Pomfrey could see what she was doing when she came to check on her patients in the middle of the night). He settled down to go to sleep, wearing his shoes, clothes, robes... the ones he had been wearing the previous day. He would go to sleep before Snape came back, so at least he wouldn't have to put up with the miserable git.

It'll be like being dead, Harry thought gloomily. When you are asleep, you can't feel anything.


"Professor!" Ben Howe jumped off the settee when Severus Snape strode into the Slytherin Common Room. "Where have you been? You were not here last night!"

"Indeed. Am I obligated to visit the Slytherins every night?" Severus snapped at the boy. He had never liked the Howe boy. A Mud-blood... and he claims to be a half-blood! Severus knew as well as any other Slytherin did that blood was very important in the House, but to lie about it so outright? The least he could do was to come out with a clever ruse – maybe claim that his mother had cheated on his father, who was a Wizard, and that was why he was a half-blood... but to give such a lie that was not thought out well? Not Slytherin at all – Severus had tried more than once to get the boy moved to Hufflepuff.

"Professor Snape," a first-year approached him, holding shuffles of parchment. "Can you help me? I'm kinda stuck with this question on my Charms homework."

Severus nodded curtly, taking the parchment from the boy and sitting down in an armchair, the young boy leaving over his shoulder. "It is simple – Professor Flitwick is quite plainly asking is what Charm do you use to lift something up into the air. Surely you covered this in one of your first days of class."

The boy nodded meekly. "I know it's Wingardium Leviosa, Professor, but I-I never managed to get anything in the air. A Gryffindor told me that I would be tested on it soon and should figure out how to do the spell before I turned in my homework."

Those damn Gryffindors, Severus cursed them silently. But the Gryffindor, whoever it was, did have a point; the boy needed to learn the basic spell before moving on. Severus pulled his wand out from his robes. "Do you have your wand on you, Jack?"

The boy, Jack, shook his head. Severus frowned at him. "Jack, from now on, have your wand with you at all times. Whether you are at school or not. You never know when you may need to use it."

Jack nodded and ran to get his wand. He knew better than to argue or give a lame excuse to Professor Snape. You were to just nod and do what he said, or he would get angry and refuse to help you.

"Hold your wand like this," Severus adjusted to boy's hand on the wand before putting his large hand over Jack's. "Now you wave it this way," he demonstrated, moving Jack's arm with his own, "and very strongly say the spell, as if you really mean it, Jack." He put Jack's arm back in the starting position. "Ready?"

Severus, with his hand clasped around the Jack's, moved Jack's arm the right way as Jack cried out " Wingardium Leviosa!" At his words, the book sitting on the coffee table in front of them began floating in the air for a few moments before falling back down.

"Wow!" Jack breathed.

Severus didn't smile. He kept his stern face on – he did that most of the time, whether he was talking to a Gryffindor, Slytherin, unicorn, horse, teacher, or dementor. It was how he was. "Do it again." Severus urged the boy.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Jack said again. The books floated for even longer, going ever higher.

Severus got up and patted the boy's shoulder encouragingly. "That should get you there, Jack. Keep practicing."

He headed over to the door of the girl's dormitories and knocked on the one for the seventh-years.

"It's open!" A girl called through the shut door.

"Does anyone in hear need any help with anything? Need to talk?" Severus inquired, sticking his head in the door. The eleven girls inside shook their heads – there were more seventh-years this year than normal.

He nodded. "Well, if any of you do, you're going to have to send me an owl – I am going to be busy over the next couple weeks."

"With what?" Katy inquired.

"'Life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness'." Severus said instantaneously, quoting the popular American quote. "And open a damn window, girls – it's suffocating in here." He shut the door before shaking his head. It was only eight o'clock – what were the girls doing getting ready for bed already?

He knocked on the sixth-year girl's door. "Who is it?" A girl called out in a sing-song voice before giggling.

Severus rolled his eyes. "It is your Head of House – may I speak to you for a moment?" He used to ask 'are you decent', but had come to realize that many Slytherins considered Slytherins indecent as a rule, so to avoid them, they would say "no". Very Slytherin indeed – Severus would be lying if he said that he wasn't proud of that, but then again... he was a Slytherin, so lying just came naturally to him.

"Come in." The same girl called.

Only three were in that room, that Severus could see. "Does anyone need any help with anything? Need to talk about anything?"

"No, but I think you might, Professor." One girl quipped. "You look a wreck, if you don't mind me saying so, Professor."

Severus scowled, but didn't reply, just shutting the door. He knew he needed a wreck – he needed to shower, shave, change clothes and get a really good night's sleep, but all that took time. And time wasn't something that he had had a lot of of late.

He quickly finished his rounds, only having to assure a fifth-year girl that she would survive her break-up with a Ravenclaw, and to break-up a fight between two fourth-year boys.

As he headed out of the Common Room, he hesitated. Go back to the infirmary, Severus – you need to be near Potter before you collapse. He had started to feel weak in the knees at around the third-year girls, and was positively shaking after the fourth-year boys. He had only been with Potter for an hour before checking on his House – it wasn't enough. He headed back towards the infirmary.

Severus prided himself in the Slytherin house. He knew that Minerva did not spend the time with her house that he did, and he had a feeling that the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs could not boast the same that Slytherins could. Most Head of Houses just relayed important news to their charges, gave them a pep-talk or handed out punishments. But Severus wanted to be the Head of House he had wanted when he was a student. Even though he made a point to never get close with his students (they would wind up leaving after seven years, and then he would just wind up getting hurt), he made it a point to learn their names, their basic likes and dislikes, and to give them all a bit of attention. He could remember his years at Hogwarts and, shuddering with anger every time he thought about it, if only someone had shown him that they cared. If someone would have patted his shoulder and made sure he understood Wingardium Leviosa, or if someone had patted his back when Lily agreed to go out with James Potter. If only someone would have stopped James and Sirius in their cruelty. If only someone would have given Severus the time of day, than maybe Severus wouldn't have gone down the road he did.

Back in the infirmary, he found Potter, fully clothed, sprawled over the entire bed, asleep. With a annoyed groan, Severus picked up the boys limbs and moved them to the proper side. Harry stirred, but just barely. Severus knew it had everything to do with the Dreamless Sleep Potion Harry had evidentially taken.

Severus shrugged. Why not? He took what was left of the Potion before lying in bed next to Potter and nearly instantly falling asleep.