Disclaimer: As always, the Wizarding World isn't mine. All credits to J. K. Rowling for creating the amazing world and letting us play within it.

Harry followed Snape in a daze; apprehension settling in his gut. He had no idea why Snape wanted to talk to him now, when he'd never sought to do so before. Harry searched through his most recent memories frantically, wondering if he'd done something to set the man off. Aside from being on the receiving end of Weasley's wand, Harry couldn't think of anything else that Snape would remotely care about. So why are we heading to his office?

Occupied in his thoughts as he was, Harry barely noted the suits of armour and paintings that they passed. The trip down to Snape's office seemed to take no time at all; although Harry knew that the Headmaster's office was actually quite a fair distance away from the dungeons. They walked past the Potions classroom and the entrance to the Slytherin common room, before coming to a stop in front of a portrait of a snake charmer. Harry stared at the painting, captivated by the cobra's measured movements and the charming tune being played. The music gradually faded and the snake returned to its original position in the reed basket. The charmer made eye-contact with the Professor and nodded at the given password, which was spoken too quietly for Harry to hear. As the door swung open and Snape stepped into the office, Harry heard something that made him pause.

"Thisss routine is ridiculousss. Why do I bother to play along?"

"Hello?" Harry's voice echoed in the silence.

Snape turned around, annoyance in his eyes. "What are you doing, Potter?"

"I heard something." Harry's eyes darted around the stone corridors and fell upon the painting, where the snake had peeked its head out of the basket, its tongue flicking back and forth.

"You are different, young one. Not like the other humansss."

Harry turned emerald-green eyes onto the snake's black ones, remembering his previous encounter with a snake.

"You mean me? Why?"

"You ssspeak our language, young one, and you –"

Harry wasn't able to hear the rest of the snake's sentence, as he had been grabbed and pulled roughly into the dimly lit room. Harry exclaimed as he rubbed his arm. "Hey! What was that f–"

Harry cut himself off when he saw Snape gesturing swiftly at the door with his wand, eyes wide and uncharacteristically frantic.

"Sir? What's wrong?"

Snape whirled on Harry, eyes flashing. "You are asking me what is wrong?" Harry flinched, and Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in an obvious effort to control himself. "Merlin, Potter. Could you have been any less subtle?"

"What, Professor? What did I do?"

"Are you truly that ignorant, Potter?"

Harry felt a flush creeping up his cheeks and shrugged, refusing to look the Professor in the eye. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Another thing I don't know.

"Look at me, Potter."

Harry brought his eyes up, albeit reluctantly, and met Snape's scrutiny. He winced internally at Snape's hard expression.

"I'll take that as a yes, then. You truly are as ignorant as you seem."

Harry desperately wanted to make a snide comment about how he'd lived in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years, without even knowing magic was real and so, of course he wouldn't know much, but he knew that it would not bode well for him to anger his Potions professor, so hit bit his tongue and shrugged – again.

"Cease your infernal shrugging, Potter. I highly doubt verbal replies would kill you."

Again, Harry had to stop himself from saying something that he would regret – that he'd never been asked a question anyway and so, how could he possibly reply?

"Sorry, sir."

Harry saw a hint of something in Snape's usually expressionless eyes – Was it surprise? But what for? – before it was gone not a second later. Harry fidgeted as Snape stared unblinkingly at him, and he wondered what part of him had the man so unduly entranced. Finally, Snape pulled away and gestured for Harry to take a seat by the table. Harry bounced uncertainly on the balls of his feet, hesitant. What did the professor even want with him anyway? And what was that all about? Harry still hadn't figured it out, but he was almost certain that it was imperative that he remained in Snape's office if he wanted to find out, so sit he did.

Harry felt Snape's eyes bore into the back of his skull – a hawk-like gaze –, almost as if he didn't trust Harry to not cause a catastrophe even whilst sitting. As the professor took his own seat on the opposite side of the desk, Harry flicked his eyes around the room, only just able to make out the outlines of jars in the gloomy, dim light of the office. The shadows hid shelves lined with myriad jars, and Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the things contained within them. He shuddered, eyes flickering back to the desk, upon which were piled stacks of parchment awaiting grading by the set of red-inked quills that stood in the corner.

"Have you heard of the term 'Parselmouth', Potter?"

"A 'Parselmouth'? What…what is it?" Harry asked, as he glanced meekly up at his professor.

"The term is given to one who can converse with snakes...and in some…circles, Parselmouths are not considered to be very respectable. Prior to this moment, I had believed there to be only one living wizard with that particular ability."

Harry sucked in a breath. "I…it's not something everyone can do? I thought...I thought it was normal here, you know, not something frea-"

Harry grimaced and cut himself off, suddenly remembering his present company.

"Who's the other Parselmouth, sir?" Harry asked, in haste to cover up his blunder.

He squirmed and chanced a glance at the man, who had yet to shift his stare away from Harry. Harry was helpless to do anything as Snape continued to stare, which was rather unnerving, to say the least.

"The Dark Lord."

The answer came out unexpectedly and with no warning, startling Harry with its bluntness.

"W-what? Voldemort?"

The next moment found Harry mere inches from Snape's fury-lined face. The older man's fingers dug into Harry's arm as he hissed the words that sparked fury in Harry himself.

"What is wrong with you, boy? Do not say his name!"

"What's wrong with me? Are you kidding? What's wrong with you? Why is everyone so afraid of one stupid name?!" Harry gestured wildly. "And – and stop calling me boy like I'm some sort of – "

All of a sudden, as if someone had pressed a button to make him freeze, Harry stopped and stiffened, eyes widened in fear. What on earth had possessed him to say all that? And to Snape! Harry dared not look in the Professor's direction, afraid of what he might find there. Instead, he pressed himself against the hard back of the chair, as far away from Snape as he could get.

Eyes squeezed shut, Harry shivered, expecting Snape to lash out. Snape's reaction, however, wasn't anything like he had anticipated.

"How Gryffindor of you."

What?

"I suggest, Potter, that you keep in mind you are a member of Slytherin House."

What?

Harry stared bewilderedly at Snape and opened and closed his mouth, unable to say a word. No points off? No detentions? No…punches? Harry's bewilderment turned to caution, unsure how to react. Eventually, he settled for apologies.

"Your stuttering is disrupting the silence."

"Still, I'm really sorry, Professor Snape. Really. I shouldn't have… disrespected you like that."

Harry knotted his hands together and pleaded with his eyes, desperately hoping that Snape would see the genuine apology. Again, Harry noticed the glint of surprise in Snape's eyes, before he inclined his head, in what Harry assumed as acceptance of the apology. Harry sighed in relief. Then –

"Get out, Potter."

What?

Harry's breath hitched.

"But-but why? I thought– I mean, yes sir."

Harry fisted his robes, feeling tears in his eyes. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, to be honest. Why had I expected it to be different? It wasn't as if Snape hadn't made his feelings known from the start.

"I meant, that now is hardly the time to resume this conversation. Tomorrow, Potter, when you are settled. See me straight after dinner."

Harry loosened his hold on his robes, blinking.

"Oh."

Harry Potter, you're an idiot.

"Oh, indeed. Return to your dormitory, Potter. I will inform Mr Malfoy to take your lunch there."

"Yes, sir."

"Go on, get out."

Harry nodded and headed for the door, waves of relief cascading over him. Harry paused when Snape called his name, hand resting on the doorknob.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do try to refrain from mentioning your ability to anyone. Mr Malfoy included."

"Of course, Professor. I won't say anything."

"Good."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, sir."

Snape nodded, and Harry exited, the door shutting with a click. Wasting no time, Snape hurried to the mantelpiece and seized a sizeable handful of Floo powder, before throwing it into the glowing embers of the hearth.

"Headmaster's Office!" Snape declared, worry in his eyes, before he too was gone, leaving the Potion Master's office silent once more.

A/N: Oh my gosh! It's been three months since the last update. So sorryyyyy for the long wait. No excuses, I know, but my mind has been blank for quite a while, and it was quite tough to write this chapter, to be honest. It's short, and not one of my best ones, but I still hope you liked it. As always, I appreciate reviews, and please favourite and follow! :)