Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and most of the settings in this story. The honour belongs solely to JK Rowling. I suspect that I do not even own half of the plot, as this has been influenced by the numerous fanfics I've read.

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Chapter 4: The First Lesson

The colour drained from Harry's face. 'No, no, no, not him, not Snape, there's no way'. All hope that Harry felt when he was given this second chance disappeared. If Snape's teaching then Harry had no chance of getting an 'O'.

Snape sneered, "Are you going to stand there like the imbecile that you are or are you going to come in."

As if detached from the rest of him, Harry's legs moved independently inside, whilst his mind was shouting to run, to forget this hopeless pursuit.

As Snape closed the front door, another familiar voice inside his mind said, "You want to become an Auror right? Well this is your chance. Don't let Snape stop you. You've taken on Voldemort four times and survived; surely you can deal with Snape. It was for no small reason that you were put into Gryffindor."

Using all of his Gryffindor courage, Harry said, "Why are you teaching me? Don't you have important things to do for the Order?"

It was if he had struck a nerve, as Snape swiftly turned to look Potter in the eye, his face contorting into a snarl. "It is not your concern what I do for the Order, Potter. And you would do well to remember that despite our current circumstances I am still your Professor and you will refer to me as such." Snape's expression softened slightly, but it was not pleasant by any means. "Another 5 points from Gryffindor for asking questions that do not concern you. I sincerely can't wait until school resumes and your house finds themselves already in the negative in points." Snape smirked, eyeing Harry closely.

Harry, however, was defiant. "You can't take points from Gryffindor. We aren't at Hogwarts now!"

Snape looked down his nose at Harry, revulsion oozing out at every pore. "Maybe not, but believe me when I say that there are many other things I can do to you, things that aren't nearly so pleasant."

Snape continued to glare at Harry for some time, and Harry, although it took every ounce of strength he had, stared back. He was not going to allow himself to be intimidated by Snape. This was too important for him.

After what seemed like hours, but was truthfully only a minute, Snape broke the eye lock and strode down the hall of number 11 Privet Drive, clock billowing, expecting Harry to follow. Not wanting to defer to Snape, but knowing he must, Harry followed.

On the outside, the house looked no different to any other house on Privet drive, which all have not a blade of grass out of place on there beautifully manicured lawns and gardens. Inside, however, was another matter. It was very clear that a wizard lived here. There was not a muggle device in sight. The most obvious thing was the sheer size of the house. It was clearly much bigger on the inside, as Snape and Harry had been walking for at least ten minutes already, yet on the outside the house looked smaller than Number 4. Moving portraits lined the walls, and Harry assumed that they were of Snape's relatives as many of them had Snape's build, or eye's, or nose, or hair, or a combination of each. One portrait could have passed for Snape himself if it weren't for the fact that the man in the portrait was at least sixty years old. He portrayed Snape's facial features exactly, complete with the look of pure loathing when Harry walked past. Torches were placed along the walls for light; there was no electricity. The whole house seemed to be charmed to resemble Snape's dark and dreary dungeons. Harry wondered what the muggle's would think if they ever decided to pay the new resident on Privet Drive a visit.

As if reading Harry's thoughts, Snape said, "While I have to endure this torment of tutoring you I will at least be comfortable. I will not have any of those muggle's here." Snape said the word muggle as if it was something nasty. Snape continued with an evil glint in his eyes, "a few have tried to introduce themselves of course, but as soon they approached the front gate they've all suddenly started bolting for their homes. They were all quite a pleasant shade of green."

Harry's stomach turned at the thought of what anti-muggle wards Snape put on the house to make the neighbours run to their homes in nausea.

Snape entered a room at the end of the hall. Harry followed, and saw the room was a small potions lab. As was Snape's office in Hogwarts, there were slimy specimens in jars dispersed throughout the room. On the left hand side of the lab was a workbench with a cauldron placed on top. On the right side sat Snape's desk which was completely covered in scraps of used parchment and books. A small bookcase stood next to the desk, jammed with books. There was a second, much larger lab through the open door at the other side of the room. Snape, noticing Harry looking at this room, swiftly walked over and closed the door. He said to Harry, "that is my private lab; if I ever see you inside it, you will wish you were facing the Dark Lord as you would stand a far greater chance of survival."

Harry, curious as to what Snape might working on, forced himself to direct his attention on Snape.

"I have set out a cauldron for you on the bench. I want you to brew the Confusion potion that you were shown last year. The ingredients you will need are in the store cupboard to your right. You have one hour."

Harry was perplexed. Snape hadn't given him the instructions for the potion and he couldn't remember the steps. Harry walked towards the cauldron. "Sir, how can I brew this potion without the instructions?"

"You were taught this last year. No wonder you scored so abysmally on your owl, if you can't remember the steps to a simple confusion potion."

Snape sat down at his desk. It was clear that he was not going to offer any more help to Harry, so, thanking his lucky stars that he remembered to bring his potions notes from last year, he looked up the confusion potion. Unfortunately, his notes weren't as organised as they could be, and it took awhile.

"50 minutes, Mr Potter," Snape said smugly, when Harry still hadn't started.

Harry scowled at Snape, but continued to search through his notes. Finally he found them, neatly laid them out on the bench, and began to work.

After about 20 minutes, Harry was startled to find Snape standing directly behind him, as he had been so engrossed in what he was doing.

"You added too much butober juice, Potter. This therefore is useless." Snape waved his wand, and just like last year, his potion vanished. "Start again."

Angry, but not wanting to start a fight, Harry started again.

After Snape vanished his potion the third time, Harry was on the brink of exploding. There was nothing wrong with the last version of the potion, of this he was sure. It was exactly the right colour and texture as described in his notes.

"How am I supposed to finish this potion if you keep vanishing it!?" Harry yelled, knowing that no good was going to come from yelling at Snape, but not being able to stop himself.

Harry thought he heard Snape chuckle. "It would be wise of you to control those emotions of yours Potter, as you should have learnt by the events of last month." Snape sneered, clearing enjoying tormenting Harry.

This statement, however, was far too much for Harry to take. "How dare you! How dare you blame me for Sirius' death!?" This was made even more hurtful to Harry as he truly believed himself responsible.

"I see no other candidates," said Snape, leaning forward, deliberately goading Harry.

"What about you! All year you were tormenting Sirius, telling him how useless he was. You knew how much Sirius hated being locked up in that place, and you did everything you could to remind him of the fact. That all he was good for was housekeeping."

Apart from a slight darkening of Snape's already black eyes, Snape was unaffected by Harry's accusations, and continued with his provocation. "It was not I who foolishly went to the department of mysteries on a self delusional hero's quest. You think yourself better than everyone else? Even if the vision was true, Potter, did you honestly think that you alone could have defeated the Dark Lord and his death eaters and saved your precious godfather. You are just as arrogant as your father."

Harry was beyond angry, he was irrational and ready to lash out at anyone he believed to be responsible for his godfather's death, and Snape was at the top of the list. Harry had his wand out ready to strike. Snape similarly had his wand at the ready.

Calmly, Snape said, "You think you could defeat me in a duel, Potter. I would be most pleased if you were to try, for as soon as you cast your first hex, a ministry owl would appear with your expulsion notice. I, however, am under no such restrictions."

Harry kept his wand tightly clenched in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to hex Snape into oblivion, and to avenge Sirius' death. It was with the thought of Sirius that made Harry release his grip on the wand. As much as he hated Snape, being expelled from Hogwarts was not the way to honour Sirius' memory.

Snape also lowered his wand. "Get back to work, Potter"

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Please R&R