As promised, here is the next chapter.

Chapter XXV

Cyrille found herself in Snape's office on a bright Saturday morning. As soon as she arrived, the man pointed her to a small desk in one of the corners of the office. She sat herself down and saw everything she needed already prepared—a quill, a bottle of ink, and a suspiciously thick roll of parchment. She sighed, thinking that she had a long day ahead of her. Still, she didn't dare complain as it was her own stupidity that had led her there. Not wanting to prolong her agony, she began writing her lines.

Half an hour later, she heard a faint knock at the door. She looked up instinctively upon the noise and saw Harry enter as soon as her guardian gave the signal.

Stepping inside, Harry looked surprised upon seeing another person in the room.

"Keep writing," said Snape when he noticed that she had stopped in favor of observing his new visitor.

Harry was about to make a comment but thought better of it as soon as he saw Snape glaring into his direction. Instead, he decided to wait for the man's instructions and silently prayed that he wouldn't treat him like the dunderheaded student that he was. Perhaps that had been too much to ask for.

As soon as Harry began brewing, Snape already had something to say.

"What have I told you about starting before making sure that your ingredients are complete?" snapped Snape.

"Sorry," said Harry sheepishly as he thought about how absurdly meticulous Snape was, insisting he did everything methodically even if it were sometimes unnecessary. In this case, he was fairly certain that he had all the ingredients since the professor was the one preparing them for him. Apparently, the Potions Master did not trust him with something as simple as bringing the correct ingredients to his lessons.

Harry glanced down at his book and read over the ingredients listed under the Forgetfulness Potion. After making sure that he did indeed have everything, he began brewing. He filled his cauldron halfway with water from the sink as Snape had absolutely refused to even let him cast an Aguamenti spell. He had learned that the hard way during their first lesson when Snape suddenly growled, "Potter! Have you learned nothing from me in five years?" He couldn't remember the rest of the insults about his intellectual capacity, but at least the lesson stuck. Perhaps Snape was an effective teacher after all.

As soon as the water in his cauldron started to boil, Harry added two drops of Lethe River Water, his mind drifting in and out of his thoughts as he did it. He still wasn't completely comfortable about Cyrille being in the room. He was a professor, after all, and it wouldn't help his reputation if she saw him getting scolded like a disobedient school boy. Harry sighed and tried to focus. Worrying too much wouldn't help him solve anything. After exactly twenty seconds, he added two Valerian sprigs and watched in fascination as a puff of white smoke rose from his cauldron.

Snape lingered behind, watching Harry begin to relax as he fell into the rhythm of brewing. After having several lessons with the boy, he learned that Harry did better when he kept his distance. He stayed close enough to be able to intervene should anything go wrong but far enough to give the boy some space.

Harry stirred his potion thrice and waited. After a while, his potion started turning a shade of pink, just as the book said it would. So far so good, thought Harry as he stepped away from his cauldron to let the brew simmer before proceeding to the second part.

He glanced sideways at Snape and saw the man give a slight nod in approval. For the boy, the small gesture was more than enough to encourage him. While he waited for forty five minutes to pass, Harry once again became aware of the presence of the people in the room. While brewing, he managed to get caught up in his own world, but now that he wasn't doing anything, he felt awkward again.

Noticing this, Snape decided to check up on his ward since she was being suspiciously quiet. It was detention after all, he reminded himself. Cyrille, upon feeling her guardian's stare, looked up at him questioningly.

"Keep writing," he reminded his ward once again. There was no way that he would let Potter see him go all soft in detention just because it was his ward that was in trouble. As expected, Harry stared sympathetically at Cyrille, silently wondering what she had done to deserve this punishment but not daring to say anything as he did not want to inadvertently get the girl into more trouble.

After making sure that both his student and his ward were busy with their own tasks, Snape retreated to his own desk and began correcting essays. Since the potion he set the boy was one mostly non-volatile, he felt fairly certain that nothing else could go wrong. Plus, he had to admit that Potter had indeed been improving. He no longer melted his cauldrons, and he actually came to class prepared. Snape was pleasantly surprised when he suddenly quizzed the boy on the material during one particular lesson, and he had been able to answer correctly.

Harry, upon spotting Snape's figure retreat, felt slightly relieved. He didn't know why he still felt nervous around the man since he had been nicer than Harry could ever remember, except for the occasional sneer and the insults to his intelligence, but he could deal with that. It was usually his fault when the professor's temper started to flare after all.

Recognizing that his potion was about to be complete, Harry once again felt worried. He was at a crucial step, and one mistake could render the entire potion useless. He was rather proud of himself for knowing this, not that he would willingly admit this to anyone. It wasn't that the Forgetfulness Potion was a difficult brew; it was only a first year potion. Still, Harry felt like he was only learning things properly now, and he suspected that his level of brewing was at that of a first year's.

Harry carefully added in the crushed mistletoe berries and watched as the ingredient disappeared into his cauldron. He then began stirring the potion anti-clockwise at a constant speed. He had read that doing this would help the ingredients spread more evenly. After the fifth stir, he carefully removed the stirring rod and checked the consistency of the resulting potion, which was the perfect shade of red.

After letting the potion cool for five minutes, Harry began scooping it into a small vial. He then put the finished sample on Snape's desk, feeling slightly apprehensive. Snape looked up as he heard the soft clank of the potion vial being laid on his desk. One look and he knew that Potter had done it correctly.

"Did I brew it correctly, Sir?" asked Harry when the professor didn't say anything.

"Only one way to find out," said Snape as he gestured to the potion. Harry's eyes widened in shock. Was Snape seriously implying that he take the Forgetfulness Potion himself?

"But Sir—" Harry protested.

"I was trying to toy with your mind, Potter," responded Snape as he raised an eyebrow. "Were you actually going to ingest a Forgetfulness Potion?"

"Of course not!" said Harry, his cheeks flushed. Why did Snape have to be so mean?

Cyrille was trying very hard not to laugh at Harry's reaction. It was priceless! She found it difficult to wipe the smile that was gracing her face, and her guardian caught her expression. Although he was glad to bring the girl some form of entertainment as he was sure that she was quickly getting tired from all the writing, he had a reputation to uphold.

"Miss Cromwell, you are in detention. Do you find that funny?"

"No, Sir," said Cyrille as she quickly tried to look neutral. She really didn't want Harry to think that she was getting any kind of special treatment from the man, not that Snape was actually guilty of it.

"Then stop slacking off and continue writing," said the man. Deep inside, he found this conversation amusing, though he suspected that another person in the room did not.

"Yes, Sir," said Cyrille, knowing that her guardian wasn't serious about scolding her.

Harry frowned. "Sir, Cyrille has hardly been slacking off; she's been at it for almost two hours now!"

"How many lines have you managed to write, Miss Cromwell?" asked Snape, wondering where this conversation was heading.

"A little over two hundred, Sir."

"Not nearly enough," commented the man as Harry's frown deepened. He felt strangely protective of the girl.

"I'm sure she regrets whatever it is that she did, Sir," said Harry, feeling his temper rise. A part of him knew that his actions were brought about by Snape's teasing only a moment ago.

"You see, Mr. Potter, sometimes regrets aren't enough, especially if one's actions have dangerous consequences," At that point, Harry wasn't sure whether Snape was still talking about Cyrille or his past transgressions as a student.

"But she's your ward," said Harry, knowing that his argument was illogical. He just couldn't understand why Snape was being cruel. He was used to the man favoring his Slytherins; certainly he saw his ward as someone much more important than his students.

"It is because she is my ward that I do this."

"But you never punished your Slytherins!" protested Harry, remembering all the times that he had been on the receiving end of Snape's chastisement while Malfoy got away scot-free.

"Were you not listening, Potter? She is not one of my Slytherins, she is my ward. If anything, I am especially hard on her."

"But you... I mean that's..." said Harry, at a loss for words. He had never seen the professor speak so protectively of someone before.

"Some lessons have to be learned the hard way, Mr. Potter. I will be damned if I let myself just stand by and watch her do foolish things," said Snape, wondering why they were even having this argument in the first place.

"Still, don't you think you're being a bit too... harsh?"

"My ward doesn't seem to think so," responded Snape as he glanced at Cyrille's direction, daring her to argue.

Harry looked at him like he was stupid. "Of course Cyrille wouldn't say anything; no one would be stupid enough to tell you that you're being too harsh!" No one except for him, apparently.

"She knows what she did wrong to deserve this, don't you, Miss Cromwell?" said Snape, feeling interested by the fact that Potter was trying to defend his ward. Perhaps this was a good thing. The more allies the girl had, the better.

"Yes, Sir," said Cyrille, hoping that Harry would stop arguing for his own sake. She knew Severus well enough to know that he was only trying to keep up the pretense of being mean, but Harry didn't, and that worried her. "It's true, Professor," she added, addressing the boy.

"Now if you are quite done criticizing the way I handle my ward, I believe it is almost time for lunch. As cruel as you may think I am, I do not allow Miss Cromwell—or anyone for that matter—to starve."

"I never said—" Harry abruptly shut his mouth as he saw Cyrille subtly shaking her head at him, warning him not to anger the man further.

"Can I have chocolate pudding for desert, Severus?" asked Cyrille, trying to divert the man's attention.

"Of course you may. Go wash your hands." Cyrille smiled and did as she was asked. Harry stared dumbly at the scene in front of him. It seemed like Cyrille truly didn't mind that Snape was being so harsh with her. If anything, she seemed to understand her guardian completely and could even manipulate him into doing things from time to time.

"Potter, why are you still here?" asked Snape when he saw the boy still standing in the room.

"I was just leaving," said Harry as he walked to the front door of the office. As he left, he heard Snape handing Cyrille a muscle relaxing salve and asking her to put it on her right hand or she would get cramps from writing that much, while the girl protested that he was overreacting.

When the door closed behind him, Harry stood dumbstruck. For the first time that day, he realized that Snape really did care about Cyrille. He thought that the man was just being his usual self and was acting excessively harsh, but he was wrong. That was not how a truly cruel person acted. It wasn't that he didn't believe the man capable of caring; he just found it difficult to believe if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. Harry began to unravel another misconception he had of the Potions Master.

Back in the quarters, the argument was still ongoing.

"Use the salve, Miss Cromwell. Your hand must be sore from all the writing," said Snape dismissively. He then summoned a house elf and asked him to prepare lunch for two.

"My hand's fine, Severus. Really!"

"You still have an afternoon of writing to do. Do as I say."

"Can't I just use it later then?"

"You may use it again later, but I want you to put it on now!" said Snape. Why did the brat have to argue about everything?

Cyrille sighed and rubbed the salve around her right hand. It made her hand feel better immediately, and she smiled at her guardian. "Thanks."

"If you are done, perhaps we can finally begin eating," said Snape. Food suddenly appeared on the kitchen table, and the two sat down opposite each other. They ate silently. After a busy morning, the two were starved.

When they were both done with the main course, dessert arrived. Snape served himself a bowl of fruit while Cyrille delighted herself with the chocolate pudding her guardian had promised her.

The following days passed by in a blur, and soon Cyrille found herself detention-free once again.

"Welcome back to civilization," said Blake during breakfast in the Great Hall.

"We thought we'd never get to see you again," said Liam, buttering his toast. Hallie sat herself beside him.

"Yeah, Cyrille. We've missed you!"

"Please, it was only two weeks; stop overreacting," said Cyrille, rolling her eyes. She did not want to make herself the center of attention. "What have you guys been up to?"

"Nothing much. Liam's failing Herbology," said Blake, smirking at his friend's offended reaction.

"You're failing Herbology?" said Cyrille in response, looking at her friend with wide eyes.

"It's not that big of a deal!" said Liam defensively. "I just have to start studying seriously now."

"We can help you study if you want," offered Hallie, looking at Liam in sympathy. "Sprout always makes herself available every night, so we Hufflepuffs don't have any problems with her subject. Plus, she makes these excellent cookies whenever we consult her."

"Thanks, but I'll manage," said Liam.

"Liam, just take it," said Cyrille as she rolled her eyes once again. She knew that Liam was feeling touchy about his lack of skills for Herbology, but she wasn't aware that the boy was actually failing. "Out of the four of us, Hallie does the best at the subject."

Not used to getting complimented, Hallie blushed. "It's nothing, really. I just pay attention and memorize stuff. Herbology's all about remembering things."

"Blake and Cyrille never pay attention, but they still get decent grades!" protested Liam, feeling his spirits down.

"That's not true! I always listen to Sprout's lectures," protested Cyrille. She had only slacked off a few times, but she had mostly been a pretty good student. After all, she knew that Severus wouldn't appreciate it if Sprout had suddenly reported that she wasn't taking her classes seriously. Blake, on the other hand, just raised an eyebrow in response. He admitted that it wasn't one of his favorite subjects. It was only a rank higher than History of Magic in his book, but nobody beat Binns when it came to boring lectures.

"It doesn't matter. I'm still failing and my parents are going to kill me," said Liam as he sighed dramatically.

Blake rolled his eyes. "Your parents are too kind for your own good, Liam." Blake and Liam had been best friends since they were five and were thus very familiar with each other's families. Liam's parents were very easy-going. In fact, Blake had never even seen them angry. His parents, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. He had never gotten on with his father, while his mother didn't care much about anything. That was why he had spent numerous vacations with Liam's family, where he had always been welcome. His own family didn't seem to mind his constant absence.

"Why don't we just help each other?" suggested Hallie.

"I think that's a great idea. Liam, Hallie can help you with Herbology, and Blake can help me with Transfiguration. I could help Hallie with Potions, and you can help Blake with..." Cyrille paused, thinking about what subject Blake had a difficulty with. "What subject do you suck at?" she asked the boy when she couldn't think of anything.

"Nothing," said Blake smugly, and Cyrille scowled at him.

"You can't be good at everything."

"What about History of Magic?" suggested Liam.

"Fine. I suck at History," admitted Blake.

"It's settled then; Liam will help you in History since he's such a nerd," said Cyrille, and she laughed at her friend's indignation.

"Excuse me, but I think that you also need my help in History," Liam pointed out. He had seen Cyrille doodling on her notebook during Binns' lessons.

"I might need some help there too," said Hallie, trying to prevent her friends from arguing further. She knew that it was all good-natured bickering, but she didn't want them to get carried away and end up actually fighting.

Just like that, the four had agreed to help each other study.

Earlier, Cyrille had received a note from her guardian asking her to have dinner with him in his quarters. After telling her friends about this, she proceeded to Snape's quarters as soon as her last class had ended.

"Sit down before the food gets cold," said Snape, and Cyrille obeyed even though she knew the man could just cast a simple Warming Charm for that. As soon as her eyes caught sight of the food, she felt surprised. The table was filled with all of her favorite food.

"What's the occasion?" said Cyrille as she stared at the different dishes that were served. Snape suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Just eat, Miss Cromwell," said her guardian. Cyrille happily finished off her plate and even had room for seconds. Dessert had also been wonderful as she had chocolate pudding, a small slice of cake, and some ice cream.

"Is it your birthday or something?" asked Cyrille once the food was cleared. She couldn't think of any other occasion that might make the man suddenly act this way.

"Of course not," he said. "Why would I be serving all your favorite food if it were my birthday?" Snape mentally cursed himself. He just as good as admitted that he had prepared this for the girl. He wanted to give Cyrille a treat to celebrate the end of her detention, but he would be damned if he admitted that to her. Besides, that might send the wrong message to the girl.

"So why did you prepare all of my favorite food?" asked Cyrille. She was touched that the man actually knew what she liked. She hadn't expected him to go through such lengths to make her happy.

Snape frowned. He really didn't want to let Cyrille think that he was encouraging her rule-breaking tendencies. Still, he knew that his ward had suffered during the last two weeks, and he just wanted to put a smile to her face. He hoped that the girl would just let it go for once. "I was in the mood for it. Now stop asking questions or else."

Cyrille beamed at her guardian. She went up to the man and hugged him, feeling grateful for his thoughtfulness. She breathed in his scent and was reminded of fresh pine. She guessed that he must have gone to gather ingredients again.

Snape's hand instinctively crawled up the girl's back. Thanks to his ward, hugging was quickly becoming normal now. He once loathed such sentimentality, but meeting Cyrille had changed his mind about many things. He now found it easier to express his emotions, and he reckoned that he was a lot less grumpy and was more approachable, though his students would likely disagree. Still, he found that he didn't dislike this change. It made him feel lighter inside. More human.

"Will you ever tell me when your birthday is?" asked Cyrille as she lifted her head to meet her guardian's eyes. They still hadn't let go of each other.

"Perhaps," replied Snape as he ruffled the girl's hair, thinking that a few more years and the girl wouldn't let him do that to her. If he could keep her as a child forever, he would, but that wouldn't be fair for his ward. "Now, why don't you run back up to your dormitory?"

"Can't I stay here tonight?" asked the girl.

Snape sighed, squashing down the temptation of agreeing to her request. "Your friends might find this suspicious. Perhaps you can stay here this weekend." Though he wanted to keep the girl all for himself, he realized that she needed to be out with her year mates. Having her become too dependent on him was unhealthy, but he was flattered that she would willingly spend time with him.

"Alright. Good night, Severus," said Cyrille as she got ready to leave.

"Good night, Miss Cromwell. Behave, and don't go wandering about the castle," said Snape sternly. He felt a warmth in his chest which he had begun to identify as love. Being with the child always evoked these feelings, and he liked it. He liked not having to put his mask up all the time. He liked experiencing human emotions. Now that he was no longer a spy, he could finally do all of these. It was difficult, he had to admit, but it was also rewarding. For the first time in his life, Snape identified emotions as something other than weakness.

He sat long into the night, a glass of wine in hand, and stared absently into the fireplace. He felt satisfied, something he hadn't been able to do for the longest time, and suspected that he would have a good night's sleep that night. At least, he did before he remembered something.

The first month of school was now over, which meant that Cyrille had won their bet. He didn't seriously think that the girl could still change her cat's name even if she had lost, but he thought he could use the bet in the future, when he needed her to do something for her own good and she was too stubborn to obey.

Snape sighed as he finished off his glass of wine, dreading the inevitable gloating that he would be faced with. Still, he was glad for a reason to call the girl by her first name. He had been secretly doing it in his head for a while now, but thinking it in his head and saying it aloud were two completely different things. It wasn't like he would start addressing the girl like that in front of other students, but it would be nice to be able to do that when they were alone. This was another step forward in their relationship, and he smiled at the thought of it. Tomorrow, he would talk to his ward. No, tomorrow, he would talk to Cyrille.

A/N: Hey, guys! Did you miss me? I'm sorry for being gone for so long, but I'm back for good. I was going to post two chapters, but I'm not yet done writing the next one. I figured that you guys have waited long enough for this one, so I'm uploading this first. The next one is going to be up in a few days. I promise!

I will be posting some updates in my profile occasionally, so you might want to check it out once in a while to know that I haven't abandoned you or anything xD

As always, let me know what you think! :)