Authors Note: Sorry it's late, but I hope it's worth the wait. I got sick last week so had to push through. I had a lot of fun writing the chapter though, so let me know what you think.

~Lily

Chapter 11: Mondays with Minerva

·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·

As it turned out, Ron gave Harry a harder time about not going to the duel than Malfoy did. Ron had spent all night trying to convince Harry to go to the duel and only shut up when Harry told him that he was already in trouble with Dumbledore and didn't want to risk more. It wasn't really a lie. He wasn't in major trouble, but Albus had given him an essay to write about following the rules. In contrast to Ron, Malfoy didn't say a word about Harry flaking out. Instead, he looked rather surprised that he and Ron were still in school the next morning. Harry took this as a sign that it was a very good thing he hadn't met Draco in the trophy room. Albus was right; he had enough to worry about without going out and looking for trouble.

Potions class was less eventful than the previous week, if only for the fact that Neville managed to not be sent to the hospital wing. It didn't save him—or any Gryffindor, for that matter—from Snape's sneers and snide remarks. Harry was honestly going to be extremely surprised if Gryffindor ever made it through a Potions session without losing house points. He was also pretty sure that hell would have frozen over if Gryffindor was ever awarded points by Snape, period. Even Hermione found no favor in his eyes, and she knew absolutely everything. Harry's potions were passable, but Hermione's were never anything less than perfect. To top it all off, Harry had had a hard time finishing the three-foot essay Snape had given them for homework. Hermione, on the other hand, wrote absolutely tiny and had turned in five feet. Instead of praise, however, Snape told her that he was not impressed that she was an insufferable know-it-all, and that from now on he wanted her essays exactly the length he assigned or they would fail.

The only consolation was that the first year Gryffindors weren't the only ones having problems with the Potions Master. In fact, all of Gryffindor had several names for him that were less than appealing. Even though Harry had a hard time believing that disrespecting teachers was okay, he could easily see where many of the names came from. Ron constantly called him a greasy git, and that played off of the fact that he had a curtain of black, greasy hair. Fred and George called him the overgrown bat of the dungeons, and Harry had been unable to keep from laughing at that. Snape seriously did remind him of an overgrown bat because he constantly wore black robes that billowed behind him. It was actually pretty creepy.

Potions aside, things were going pretty well. Harry had now made it through two weeks of school and could get to all his classes without getting lost. He, Ron, and Neville decided to celebrate this accomplishment with staying up half the night just acting crazy. They played several games of exploding snap and teamed up against Ron in Wizard Chess. They were the last ones in the common room when they went to bed at two in the morning. They decided that they would be able to make up for it by sleeping until noon the next day. Harry, however, wasn't going to be that lucky.

"Harry." It was a whispered voice, but it was enough to make Harry groan and pull the covers up over his head. It didn't help, though, because he suddenly felt himself being shaken.

"Geroff," he muttered, waving a hand at the bother and curling down deep into his covers.

"Harry, we have to practice Quidditch."

Harry just groaned and blinked blearily up at Wood, who looked annoyingly alert. He then fumbled for his glasses and looked at the clock by his head. Seeing that it was 5:03 AM he groaned and put the pillow over his face. "Wood, you're insane!" he exclaimed through the down of the pillow.

"I've been getting that a lot this morning, but we have to start practicing." Wood didn't seem at all fazed by the fact that the sun hadn't even come up yet. "Get up and get a nice shower; it will help wake you up. Practice starts at 5:30."

It didn't take long for Wood to realize that his words were falling on deaf ears because Harry had fallen back to sleep. "Oh no you don't." Wood yanked the covers off of Harry, but Harry just curled his body up tight to make up for the lost warmth. Wood wasn't giving up that easily, however, and grasped Harry's ankles and pulled him off the bed.

Harry fell with such a thud that Dean and Seamus both sat bolt upright in bed and looked around to see what was going on. Harry himself groaned as his body hit the hard floor and contemplated just lying there on the floor. He finally pulled himself up, though, and gave in to his tormentor.

·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·:·

With his early morning torment aside, Harry made it through the weekend mostly unscathed. Sunday also saw a late night, but that was for last minute homework rather than fun. Harry had never understood the complaints about Mondays before. When he had lived with the Dursleys, he had been forced to work hard all day long, and even fairly late. Come morning, he was up early to start it all over again. School had actually come as a break to him, since he had about seven hours where he didn't have to do chores.

However, he was now able to relax on the weekends. It was Monday, the seventeenth of October now, and he wished he didn't have to get up. When he did manage to get up, he found that his brain just didn't work right. Half the information he had learned just last week seemed to have leaked out of it. Whoever had come up with the idea to start school at nine in the morning seriously needed a different job. Their schedule made things even worse because their first class was Transfiguration, and that was probably the class that took the most brain power.

At the end of the day, though, Harry had to admit that life really wasn't that bad. He had friends that enjoyed him just being him. He also didn't have to fail his classes just to keep from being in trouble for being smarter than Dudley, and he had someone that was always willing to listen to him. Albus may say that he might never have a normal childhood, but this was the most normal he had ever felt. All it took was getting used to the stares and whispers. After he managed that, he was able to mostly tune them out.

Probably one of his favorite times of the week was Monday evenings. He could talk to Minerva or Albus whenever he needed, but there was just something about this dedicated night. It wasn't really something he could explain, and he supposed that at eleven he was too old to want a special night just for him and his soon-to-be parents. At the same time, however, he just didn't care. He had never been able to just sit and talk with his family, and now that he did, he planned on taking advantage of every minute of it. He was also glad that Minerva required it, since he was pretty sure he would feel too much like a baby to just go himself. He was eleven years old after all, and to top it off, he was at a boarding school where the rest of the kids didn't get to see their parents at all.

When Harry arrived at Minerva's office, he couldn't help but smile. Albus and Minerva were facing off in a game of Wizard Chess, and both were concentrating hard. Silently, Harry pulled up a seat and watched the battle unfold. Albus and Minerva were both good at chess, and facing off against each other was a pretty good match. They were both logical, and after many years of teaching together had been able to play thousands of games against each other. As a result, they took each other very seriously. Harry made a mental note to tell Ron to challenge one of them. It would do his ego some good to be deflated a bit, since nobody in his family could beat him anymore. In the two weeks they'd been in school, Ron had even played half of Gryffindor Tower. They had made a kind of competition out of it, and Ron was still undefeated.

This particular game looked like it had only just begun. Minerva's lips were pursed tight in a way that Harry had come to understand meant that she was upset. In this case, though, it just meant she was concentrating really hard. Even Albus had lost the twinkle in eye as he stared intently at the board. In all actuality, it kind of reminded Harvey of a miniature version of a war, with Albus and Minerva as the commanding Generals and the chess pieces as the soldiers.

The game lasted a good half hour with Minerva finally toppling Albus's king. Minerva grinned triumphantly and Harry cheered. It honestly didn't matter who won; Harry always wound up cheering because he truly enjoyed the entertainment. The two weeks he had spent with them during the summer had seen many nights of chess games, and Harry never tired of watching them. He had even gotten a chance to play each of them a few times. He had known nothing about chess when he started, but now he could last a good five to ten minutes in a game against Ron, which was better than any of the other first—or even second—years could do.

"That's game, Albus. That means that your next password can't be the name of a sweet." Minerva leaned back and Harry just smiled. The small bets the two made against each other were as entertaining as the games themselves. Over the summer, Minerva had lost a game and had to wear her hair down for an entire day. Another game, Albus lost and wore red robes when he went to Hogwarts the next day. With his white hair and beard, Harry couldn't help but laugh since he looked like Father Christmas from Muggle children's books he had read.

"Alas, Minerva dear, I was so hoping to hear you sing 'You Are My Sunshine' to Filius. Such a shame." Albus winked at Harry, and Harry couldn't help laughing. He could only assume that the other teachers knew about the little wagers and found them amusing because some of them involved other members of faculty.

"Alright, Harry, care to play the winner a match?" At Minerva's words, the pieces pulled themselves back together and set up again.

"Only if I don't have to see how many sugar quills I can poke out of my mouth and still whistle." He looked over at Albus at this one who gave an innocent smile.

"I was simply curious, my boy. Next time, we can take a picture of you with sugar quills making a peacocks tail around your head." This made Harry laugh and shake his head.

"I don't plan on giving you blackmail, Albus; you enjoy it too much."

"I'm not the one that likes to see how much sugar it takes to make you explode." Minerva smiled at this, and Harry just nodded since it was true. "How about you recite the alphabet backwards while you hop on one foot, spin in a circle, and pat your head?"

"Alright, but if I win you give us no homework next Transfiguration lesson." Harry had no delusions about winning, but the thought of McGonagall not giving a mountain of homework had promise.

"Deal," Minerva conceded, and the game began, Harry concentrating as hard as he could.

Even with all of his concentration, it didn't take Harry long to be totally demolished by Minerva. It was how the deals went; Harry played his very best and learned from it. He wasn't going to get victory handed to him, and one of these days he would know that his win was legitimate.

Accepting defeat, Harry stood and began his hopping recitation.

"Z y x w v u t s r q p o n m..." It was taking Harry a moment to think of the alphabet in reverse, and it was made worse by his having to hop. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and Harry toppled over. The fact that it had been left open meant that the new visitor had seen Harry's stunt, and he went red-faced as he sat up, even though he was still laughing slightly. Looking at the door, however, he went wide-eyed and silent at seeing long black robes and a sneering Professor Snape holding Fred and George Weasley by the scruff of their necks.

"Talented, Potter." It was hard to read Snape's face, but the sneer in his voice made Harry blush deeper. He didn't have to look at the Weasley twins to know they were highly amused, and by the time he got back to Gryffindor Tower tonight, everyone would know about his peculiar recitation.

"Severus, to what do we owe this visit?" Minerva spoke politely, but her lips had thinned considerably as she watched the twins.

"I found these two setting up fireworks in my classroom. I've had it with these two, Minerva; they are worse than all of your Gryffindors put together." At Snape's words, Fred and George seemed to beam with pride. They wiped their faces when Minerva glared at them, though.

"I can't disagree with you, Severus. Boys, what do you have to say for yourselves?" Minerva's lips looked like they had completely disappeared, and her tone was icy. The twins had sense enough to cringe, but Harry wondered how they were still standing.

"We just wanted to brighten his classroom up a little." Fred was the one to speak, and Harry found that he couldn't look at them or he would have to hide a laugh because the twins wore innocent expressions.

"Surely you can't fault us for charity work." This time it was George, and Harry couldn't help a snort as he studied the busted chess pieces before him.

"I have a hard time believing that charity work is even in your vocabulary, Mr. Weasley!" Minerva's voice was now sharp, and Harry busied himself with setting the chessboard up again. "For starters, charity work does not involve blowing things up. As a reminder of that, you can serve a week of detention with Mr. Filch. That is, if Professor Snape doesn't want you himself." Minerva looked at Snape this time, and his lips curled into a sneer.

"Oh, I'm quite sure I can find a use for them, Minerva. I will see you boys after supper starting tomorrow." At Snape's words, Fred and George groaned.

"I will also be writing to your mother, boys." Minerva didn't grow any scarier in Harry's opinion, but the twins suddenly looked at each other horrified. It became quite clear to Harry that the matriarch in the Weasley family was someone they feared. "Now, head back to Gryffindor for the rest of the night, and I will know if you don't."

"Yes ma'am." The tone in George's voice sounded like he wanted to ask Minerva how she would know, but he wisely kept silent as he and his twin filed past Snape and turned toward the common room.

With the twins gone, Minerva sank into her seat and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Severus. I swear; those two are going to be the death of me." With that, she turned to Harry sharply. "If you ever do anything that would warrant a letter home, young man, you can rest assured that your bottom will be quite sore. File that in your mind for future reference in case you ever get any bright ideas."

Harry could just nod as he watched Minerva silently. It really wasn't hard to see why the Weasleys feared their mother; the matriarch of a family could be quite intimidating.

"I'm sure that Potter is capable of many bright ideas, Minerva." Harry's jaw about hit the ground as he looked up at Snape. The overgrown bat of the dungeons was sliding into an extra chair, and for once, didn't wear a sneer. "You claim that the Weasley twins will be the death of you. I don't find them that different than Potter's father and company."

"This is true, Severus." At this, Harry turned to watch Minerva. He had often asked about his parents, and Minerva and Albus had told him a few stories. Both of his parents had been extremely bright and talented. They were even Head Boy and Girl in their time. His mother had been very sweet and smart but had a temper that matched her fiery red hair. It hadn't taken Harry long to learn that his father had been a troublemaker.

"Now, Severus, you will do well to remember that Harry is not James." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling, but his voice was firm. Not reprimanding exactly, but it had finality in it that made Harry look at him. "As such, I don't want you to treat Harry like him. Let the past stay in the past."

This really confused Harry, and he looked back at Snape. "What's he meaning, professor? Did you know my father?"

Harry may have been confused, but Severus's look towards Dumbledore wasn't very friendly. At Harry's question, he turned his attention to the eleven-year-old boy and just sneered. "Potter, I will tell you now that you don't want to hear anything I have to say about your father. I don't want to fill you with bitterness towards me any more than I have to, so I'll keep my opinions to myself. However, I can promise you that I will attempt to not make my differences with him affect how I act towards you."

Now Harry's mind was really spinning. It was quite clear that Snape had known his father, but it was equally clear that he didn't like him. On a different note, though, Snape didn't want extra "bitterness" between them? Snape hated all of the Gryffindors, and he wasn't spared in that category. Nobody was. "Professor, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what you're talking about."

This made Snape laugh a little, which Harry decided was undoubtedly the oddest sight he had ever seen. Instead of Snape, though, it was Minerva that spoke this time. "Severus and your father had a few differences, Harry. He knows what it's like to not have a proper family and happy childhood, however, so he can sympathize with you. Severus is not one to publicly show his feelings, though, so he comes across as cold and uncaring."

"You do realize, Minerva, that if I babied all of the students in my class, nothing would ever get done and we would have a lot more accidents than we currently do?" Severus's tone wasn't cold, but more matter-of-fact than anything. He then turned to Harry and fixed him with an evaluating gaze. He didn't say anything for a minute, and it made Harry feel slightly uncomfortable. "Potter, as long as you legitimately try in my class, stay out of mischief that doesn't concern you, and respect me, I will repay the courtesy and not be overly harsh. I'm a strict teacher, Potter, and I don't have time for messing around. It only leads to accidents in my classroom, and some accidents can be fatal. Not with the potions you are working with now, but as the years go on, you will see more dangerous potions. If I don't train you properly now, you won't be ready then."

Harry listened to all of this and could only nod; it seemed fair. Snape hadn't been overly unfair, towards him at least. "I understand, professor. What I wonder, though, is why you're so hard on Gryffindor but seem to let Slytherin slide with everything. You never give points even to Hermione who does everything perfectly."

At Harry's question, Severus couldn't help a sneer. "Potter, how many times do you see other teachers award Slytherin points?"

Harry had to think about this for a moment. He hadn't seen any teacher but Snape give Slytherin points. At the same time, however, he had only had three classes with the Slytherins the entire two weeks of school, and two of them had been taught by Snape. "Professor, I don't see Slytherin gain points besides by you, but then again I only have your class and flying with them."

Severus nodded in consent. He guessed it really wasn't a fair question since the boy wasn't around the Slytherins much. "Alright, Potter, I'll give you that much. Next question, though: how many teachers freely give out house points to Gryffindor for doing what they are supposed to do?" Harry was about to answer, but Snape held up his hand to hold him off. "By doing what they are supposed to, I mean answering questions and doing a task correctly. You are supposed to come to class prepared, and by that I mean that you should have read the text. You therefore should be able to answer any question posed. You are also supposed to be doing the task assigned, and yet when you manage it, the professors give out house points as if you've managed some remarkable feat. Gone above and beyond, when in reality, you've only done what you were supposed to do. I don't award Miss Granger house points for answering questions or brewing a good potion because you are all supposed to do that."

Harry had to think about this. As much as he hated to admit it, Snape had a point. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Snape didn't give Slytherin many points either; he just didn't take them away for being stupid. "I understand where you're coming from, professor, but you don't take points from Slytherin, just Gryffindor."

"You've come a long way with your brain today, Potter; push just a little more." Snape's words may have been harsh, but they weren't in a completely sneering tone like usual. "My goal in that classroom is to keep you all alive. That goal applies to right now and when you start handling more dangerous potions later. I've already briefed my Slytherins on what to expect from me, and they follow my directions because they know they don't want me on their backs. The Gryffindors, however, are easily distracted and tend to think they are above the rules. Think about the reasons I take points from Gryffindor, Potter."

Harry was finding that he really didn't like this talk. Of course, this was mostly because Snape was bringing up some very valid points. "You took points from Seamus when Neville messed up their potion."

"That is correct, Potter." Snape gave a curt nod before continuing. "I work you in partners the first semester so that you can become accustomed to what you are doing and get used to all of the steps and concentration it takes to make a potion. As such, I expect you to help your partner. With two of you, you should be able to follow directions even better. I couldn't very well take points from Longbottom since he was already a mess and had to go to the Hospital Wing. Why else have I taken points?"

"You took points from Ron for talking." Harry didn't mention that Ron had currently been telling him his theory on why Snape didn't wear a wedding band.

Snape's sneer returned at this comment, and he nodded. "Ignore for the moment that Mr. Weasley was currently calling me a greasy git with no feeling. The fact that he was talking about anything besides the potion you were making put you both at liberty for distraction, and, as a result, mistakes."

Harry could just nod with a blush at hearing that Snape had heard exactly what Ron was saying about him. "You took points from Neville for trying to add the crushed fig leaves before the cut ginger root. That's because he wasn't following directions and could have messed up again like he did last week." Snape just nodded and Harry felt himself consenting. Previously, it had seemed as if Snape had just been picking on Gryffindor, but if you truly thought about it—from Snape's perspective, of course—then he had legitimate reason for everything, no matter how much they thought him unfair.

"You will notice that my Slytherins actually make an honest effort, Potter." Severus was pleased that Potter was figuring it out so nicely. "They know that if they don't, it won't be pleasant for them because I am their Head of House and can make their lives miserable without making it publicly known."

"I see." It was simple, but it was all Harry could say after having it broken down so explicitly. "What if we are making an honest effort but need a bit more help or practice? Potions is only once a week, and that's not a lot of time to practice when it takes so much work and concentration to perfect."

Severus just smirked at the boy's question. He really was catching on. It was quite possible the boy had inherited his mother's intelligence after all. If that was so, the next seven years just might be bearable. "This is true, Potter. Right now the potions you are required to make are not extraordinarily complicated, and I don't think it takes a lot more help than making sure you come to class knowing the required text. That will help you know how to make the potion in theory, and therefore will assist you when you do the practical. If you would like a bit of extra practice, however, I have Saturdays and Sundays that are available if you are more than willing to ask for my assistance, if you wish. All I ask is that you don't come to me knowing absolutely nothing about what you are doing. If that is the case, I will have no problem telling you that you are wasting my time and to get out of my sight."

"Yes sir." Harry could just nod. That seemed like a fair request. It may be odd speaking to Snape like this, but he was glad that the man had stopped by. He had gotten a lot of questions answered that would have been impossible to get any other way, and he was even starting to see just how Snape functioned. He was super strict and seemed sometimes cruel, but that was just him. In actuality, he was more like an antisocial Minerva. He was fair but had standards that he expected to be met, and he wasn't going to baby his kids to get them that way.

"Harry, my boy, if you've finished picking Professor Snape's brain, might I suggest we finish seeing your alphabet routine? I must say that I found it quite entertaining." Albus had a twinkle in his eye that made Harry shake his head as he thought about his earlier words. He really had to be careful about giving that man blackmail because it wouldn't take much to come back and bite him later.

"You do realize that with the Weasley twins seeing that, it's going to be spread around Gryffindor Tower long before I get back, and everyone is going to want to see it?" He stood, though. At the beginning of the evening, he would have been mortified to have Snape see him act like an idiot, but now it didn't seem so mortifying. Snape seemed to genuinely understand. Harry wasn't sure what made him feel like this, but he guessed it didn't matter, since he would be ridiculed for it later anyways.

"Well, that just means that you will be immensely good at reciting the alphabet backwards. I must say that it is probably a skill worth having. It's an interesting piece of information, at the very least." With that, Albus waved a hand as if signaling for Harry to begin.

"Z y x w v u t s r q p o n m l k j i h g f e d c b a." By the time the recitation was finished, Harry found that he was incredibly dizzy and had to grab hold of his chair just to keep from falling over.

"Very good, Harry." Minerva's lips were curved into a smile that showed she was amused and even Snape looked entertained in a way that Harry found himself suddenly hoping the Slytherins didn't hear about this.