After returning to his room, Harry decided to work on his potions essay. He wasn't sure exactly what had occurred in the library just now, but for some reason that he couldn't quite put his finger on, he didn't want to break the uneasy truce that he had seemed to make with Snape. He scanned through the pile of texts sitting haphazardly on his desk until he saw the blue spine of "Magical Drafts and Potions" by Arsenius Jigger. He flipped it open with a sigh, turning to the section on the properties of Moonstone, and started writing.
Half an hour later, he had a respectable six inches on the behavior of Moonstone in the Draught of Peace, but nothing on the Syrup of Hellebore, the powdered porcupine quills, or the powdered unicorn horn. He closed the blue book from his first year - he always kept his old texts just in case he needed them - and went looking for his current potions book. And he couldn't find it. After scattering his texts all over his desk, he flung open his wardrobe and rifled desperately through his trunk, before sitting back on his heels. Of all of the books to forget when spending the holidays with Snape, it had to be his potions text.
But he sat up straighter as he realized that just down the hall, there was an entire library full of potions books. Surely one had the information he needed! Opening his bedroom door as quietly as he could, he tiptoed down the hallway, quill and parchment under one arm, cautiously poking his head in the library to make sure that the professor was no longer inside. He was so intent on making sure that the library was empty that he entirely missed said professor walking up behind him.
"Looking for something, Mr. Po - Harry?" Snape corrected himself. This was going to take some getting used to.
Harry spun so fast that he almost hit Snape when he turned. He then backed up very quickly, until he was standing against the wall. "Um, well, you see professor, I was just, well, working on my potions essay," Harry started, not wanting to admit that he had forgotten his book. "And I just, uh, thought that since it was your library, and you said I could use the books" - he paused and glared up as if daring Snape to deny his earlier statement - "that maybe you might have something that I could use to help me write."
"Will your textbook not suffice?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, I just thought that since you have so many books, that maybe I could do an even better job on the essay with more information," Harry replied meekly.
Snape looked as though he was going to continue questioning him for a second, but then stopped himself. "Might I suggest the Book of Potions, by Zygmunt Budge? I believe you'll find it over there," he said, pointing towards a shelf on the far side of the room. "It is rather advanced, but if you really want to improve your essay, it could certainly aide in your efforts." He nodded to himself, then turned and walked off in the other direction, leaving a very surprised Harry in his wake.
Two hours later, it was lunchtime, and despite his promise to himself that the boy wouldn't eat if he didn't make it to the kitchen at mealtimes, Snape walked back upstairs to remind his charge of the hour. He stopped and stared at the sight in front of him when he reached the library. There was an apparently finished essay sitting on the desk, but Harry was still sitting sideways in an armchair, his legs thrown over the side, seemingly engrossed in one of Snape's potions books. Advanced Potion-Making, he noted with surprise. Looking just as he did on his first night here, Snape had to remind himself. At the time he'd thought it was a fluke, but he was starting to wonder now if Harry had really meant it when he said he had once been excited about potions. And I crushed it out of him. He sighed.
"It is after noon, Mr. Potter," he said. Harry jerked his head up, having missed the arrival of the Potions Master.
"Harry," the teenager corrected quietly. Snape merely nodded his assent. They walked downstairs without speaking, both caught up in their thoughts.
By the time they were seated with their meal in front of them, Harry had summoned enough courage to ask a question.
"Sir, um, could I ask you something?" Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry, silently telling him to continue.
"I was reading one of your potions books, and it was talking about aconite. And I remember Hermione saying something once about how aconite was poisonous, and that it used to be used for hunting wolves. Except, in the book I was reading it said it was used in Wolfsbane Potion. And I was wondering how? That is, how it doesn't kill anybody who takes the potion?"
Snape gathered his thoughts before answering. "It is true that aconite, or monkshood, is a highly toxic substance, and today it is very rare, which is why Wolfsbane is so expensive to make," he began, immediately going into lecture mode. "However, combined with the right ingredients, the toxic portion of the aconite can be neutralized, allowing a skilled brewer to take advantage of its medicinal properties."
"Like to keep werewolves from being dangerous? How does that work, exactly?"
"Werewolves are always dangerous," Snape snapped angrily, before forcing himself to take a deep breath. "Wolfsbane can ease some of the symptoms of lycanthropy, it is true, but even then, there are no guarantees," he continued in a much calmer voice. "Wolfsbane is an exceedingly difficult potion to brew, and even the slightest error can render it ineffective, as can improper dosage or any number of other factors."
"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said, although he wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for. "I just meant, well, Lupin told me that you make it for him, and how much easier it made things for him. I appreciate it." He said the last sentence quickly, before he lost his nerve.
"You appreciate what, exactly?" Snape asked, genuinely confused by the statement.
"Well, I don't know why, but I know that you don't like Lupin very much." Snape started to say something, but Harry spoke more quickly, trying to get in what he wanted to say. "But he was a wonderful teacher and he's been, well, helpful to me ever since third year. I mean, if he hadn't taught me to conjure a patronus I don't know if I would've made it to the end of term. And since I've been reading your books I know that it's really expensive and that not very many people could brew it for him, but you did, even though you don't like him-" Harry cut himself off, realizing that he was rambling. "Anyway, I appreciate you making it for him."
"The headmaster provided me with funds to procure the necessary ingredients," Snape said awkwardly, not sure how to deal with the boy's gratitude, something that he was entirely unaccustomed to.
Harry just smiled, as though he understood what Snape was feeling, and after a moment they went back to discussing the properties of aconite. Although the Potions Master would have a hard time admitting it, he actually enjoyed that meal, discussing one of the few things he was passionate about with somebody who, surprising though it may seem, demonstrated equal interest in the subject, if not equal knowledge or understanding.
Eventually, the plates were cleared away, no doubt by Snape's quiet and near-invisible house elf Tizzy, signaling the end of the meal.
"Perhaps, considering your newfound interest in potions, now would be a good time to begin your remedial potions lessons," came the suggestion from across the table. Harry looked up nervously. Well, that put a damper on things pretty fast, Snape thought with amusement.
"I must admit, Harry, considering your apparent interest in advanced potion-making concepts, I am surprised that you have fared as poorly as you have in my classes."
"You've got to be kidding! It never mattered how - never mind. I'm sorry, sir."
"No Harry, please continue." Snape said quietly. After having spent the better part of an hour enthusiastically - well, enthusiastically by his standards - discussing some of the finer points of potion-making, he knew that many of Harry's failures could likely be attributed to his own poor teaching.
"Well, sir, it's just that, the first day of potions ever you started by asking me questions that no first year would know, at least not a muggle-born."
"Miss Granger seemed well aware of the answers to my questions," Snape couldn't help but defending himself a little bit. Harry gave him a look that said, Really? Of course Hermione knew the answers. The corners of Snape's mouth twitched in what looked suspiciously like a smile, but he quickly bit it back and put his mask back in place, before nodding to Harry to continue.
"And then, at the end of every summer, you would always pick me out of everybody to answer the questions because you knew I wouldn't have it done. I mean, I know it wasn't your fault 'cause you didn't know that the Dursleys locked my books and my wand and everything away during the summer so that I had to do all of my homework on the train, but still." Snape hadn't known that particular piece of information about Harry's home life. In fact, he had often wondered since starting occlumency why Harry didn't do better on his homework than everyone else, considering that he was locked away in a room with nothing else to do. He shook himself back to awareness when he realized that Harry hadn't stopped talking.
"-and the way you treat the Gryffindors, always humiliating us for the benefit of your precious Slytherins," Harry was full on ranting now, almost forgetting who he was talking to. "It's really no better than bullying." Harry stopped when he heard the low growl that was emitted from Snape's mouth, realizing that maybe he had gone too far. Snape was instantly angry at being compared to a bully, thinking back to his school days of being called names and being teased for the way he looked, but after once more forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, he knew that he couldn't really fault the boy for his analysis. And the reasons that he had once used to justify his treatment - protecting himself from the eyes of Death Eaters' children, for example - were seeming weaker by the moment. He could have treated Harry poorly enough to protect his position and still treated him far better than what he had done. He looked at the boy in front of him, who was now looking at him nervously, waiting for the fallout.
"As tempted as I am to deny your statements, I am aware of the truth of them. And I am sorry." Two apologies in two days. What was the world coming to?
Harry looked as surprised as his professor at the apology. "It's okay sir."
"No, it isn't, Harry. I was no more popular as a student than I am as a teacher. And that was hard enough, even when my schoolboy enemies were other students. I can only imagine my reaction if one of my professors had treated me as poorly as I have treated you." Snape cleared his throat. He had no idea how to do this. He had spent the last fifteen years building a terrifying persona at the school and here he was destroying the whole thing with one conversation.
"Now that we have...cleared the air, somewhat, perhaps we can start on those potions." Harry nodded, still slightly shell-shocked from the revelations that had been floating around the table, and stood to go to the potions lab.
A/N: Sorry to end it here! I know it's sort of a weird stopping point, but this chapter was getting long and I need to consider where to go next. I look forward to hearing from you guys! Hope you enjoyed. :)