"Take this." Severus said and handed Potter another lilac potion. The boy looked like he wanted to reject it. Instead he reached over and accepted the potion from his hands and looked at it briefly before putting it in his pocket.

"Why do you do that?" He asked.

"What do you mean, Potter?" The boy picked up his bag and hanged it over his shoulders, empty plates still on the table. "Madam Pomfrey would give you the same potion." He cleared his throat as he realised he sounded rather defensive.

"Not just that. Madam Pomfrey doesn't… reach out."

What was the boy talking about now? The boy seemed frustrated at his lack of response and he hoped the brat also realised his lack of understanding.

"Madam Pomfrey would put the potion on the table or hover it my way."

"You're imagining things. Those are very small things for you to be noticing."

"But I notice them." He replied without missing a beat. The brat fidgeted on the spot. "Never mind." Severus saw him turn to leave and he spoke instead of listening to his solidly ingrained instinct to just let the brat leave.

"Look at me if you cannot say it." To his surprise the boy stopped and turned, looking at him in the eyes, right hand playing with the sleeve of his left. Despite his nerves the boy kept looking at him and did not even flinch as Severus raised his wand and pointed it at him. "Legilimens."

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Five year old Potter gave out several rattling coughs in a dark, spider infested cupboard. A whimper escaped his lips as the unintelligible yelling of a man made the very door shake. The boy looked as if he was stubbornly trying to contain the tears in his eyes but failed to hold them. Not with his feverish skin and his achy joints and painful coughs. He cried. Softly, but he cried. The yelling eventually stopped and the door opened.

A sour looking Petunia glared at the boy and tossed a whole sheet of blistered paracetamol. Harry whimpered.

"No… no tablets aunty." The small raspy voice said.

"I'm not giving a worthless brat any of my Dudder's medication! You'll use it all up again! You will have that and nothing more."

Potter's shaky fingers tried to push a tablet out but couldn't and tried to get her to open it for him.

"Do it yourself you useless child." She hissed and slammed the door shut.

Severus couldn't believe it. He watched the child try once more to choke back fat overflowing tears but he could not. Instead the potions master saw the child burry his cries into his pillow.

The scene changed and now Madam Pomfrey appeared sending vials hovering his way, placing them to his side, never to his hand.

Severus shook his head. The boy was just searching for what he wanted. He hadn't treated Potter any differently than Madam Pomfrey had in several of the memories he saw. The first calming drought he had given him had been slammed onto the table in front of the boy.

The image changed and he saw himself saving Potter's hide from the pack of Slytherins outside Hogsmeade, Severus lying to Umbridge to keep the brat's obnoxious number of packages from getting confiscated, helping bandage his hand, the potion he left for the Weasley boy to find. Severus saw himself asking about Potter's past and felt, more than saw, the boy's appreciation that he hadn't instantly mocked him.

To think the brat would take all these basic human interactions as kindness. Preposterous.

Once more the image changed to the hospital wing, Potter was mad with fever. Severus was letting the boy's back rest against his chest so he could carefully give him the potions he needed.

He hadn't expected the boy to remember that. But it had been a necessity… the boy had been thrashing around too much for him to give it any other way.

Still… seeing the memories passing through the boy's head when he thought of Severus Snape's "kindness" made him understand a little why the child would be so attentive to even the simplest of human interactions. He gently pulled out.

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Potter would not look at him and his entire stance screamed embarrassment. It was obvious why, the boy did not have the control required to be able to select which memories he would have seen.

Snape felt as if he was suddenly at a crossroad. What could he say? What was best to say to the boy at this time? What would be the best way to proceed?

"I'll go now professor." The boy re-adjusted his bag and turned.

"Potter…" He heard himself say. "…You are failing potions."

The boy blinked in confusion as he turned to look back, as if confirming he had heard correctly. "Um… what?" Severus understood that he actually meant, 'what does that have to do with anything'.

"You," He pointed. "Are failing potions." He said.

"…so what else is new?"

"I can offer real remedial potions. Otherwise by the time career discussions begin, your grade may be too far gone to make up." He said. Potter blinked several times and looked down with a very confused expression.

"…Do I need potions to be an auror?"

"Yes you need potions you simpleton. You need potions for almost all careers of note!" Severus replied, scoffing at the idiotic ignorance of the boy. Still he must be losing his touch because the boy did not look offended. Instead the corners of his lips raised and twisted into a poorly concealed smile.

"I would need a lot of help."

"Yes, well… I am not inimical to a challenge." He replied. Somehow his careless tone seemed to make the boy's prior aura of misery dissipate slowly.

"Alright, Thursdays?"

"Wednesdays and Thursdays. At least at first… probably have a lot to cover."

The boy nodded and turned to leave once more, but stopped at the door. "Are you sure about this professor?" he asked softly. Severus glared at him and the boy jumped slipping out as quickly as possible. "Ok then!" He called and the potions master huffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

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Harry regretted most of what happened by the time he was in bed. He had the curtains shut, a silencing spell cast so no one would hear his groans and whines of embarrassment as he relived the day all over again. He shifted frustrated, trying to forget his embarrassing display of… oh he didn't know what!

"Nnnh!" He groaned again into his pillow. What had he been trying to say?

He'd just wanted to know… if Snape's treatment of him was saying something else. Snape already said he was focusing on too little things but Harry knew the other was more tolerant of him. Maybe even cared.

He'd gone through a lot of work to just get Harry to go to him again. In the end he simply dragged him to his office. The potions master had apologised to him and calmed down his anxiety with a potion. He encouraged Harry to talk to him about his worries. He made sure Harry ate and offered to help him get his marks up.

The potions master could dislike him all he wanted… but Harry couldn't help it. He liked Severus Snape. He could even say he trusted him. He wasn't perfect and seemed to find something about Harry naturally irritating but Harry could find himself able to respect the potions master more.

Yes, he remained confused about many things but at least… at least he had a point of contact… if he couldn't talk to his friends about it.

Speaking of friends. He sat up and took out the enchanted galleon from under his pillow. Perhaps it was time for another meeting. He wondered what everyone would say to Malfoy's appearance. Well… he had already promised to help the other. He tapped the coin and set a meeting for the following Monday.