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.

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the long delay in updates. Christmas time… very busy and all that. Here are two chapters to compensate.

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Chapter 7: Snape Meets the Dursleys

Harry looked to Snape, then Uncle Vernon, then Aunt Petunia and Dudley who both no doubt followed along behind Harry to gloat. Harry's face paled and he began to feel sicker than he had ever felt in his life. All of the people he hated most in the world in the same room and all glaring at him.

To his immense surprise, Snape was wearing muggle clothes. Harry knew it was stupid to be surprised about this. Snape was in the muggle world now, of course he would be in muggle clothes. It was just that seeing Snape in trousers, shirt and jacket, with his hair tied back, made Snape look very different, almost human.

After one final swift angry look at Harry, Uncle Vernon turned towards Snape with an apologetic expression. "Yes, I'm so very sorry about my nephew's behaviour, Mr Snape. Not turning up for work! It's unforgivable. Of course he's very disturbed you know. He has to go to St Brutus' Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. We all believe he truly is a hopeless case." Uncle Vernon clearly thought Snape was perfectly normal, which was also a surprise to Harry, because just as the Dursleys were the biggest bunch of Muggle's imaginable, Snape was pure wizard.

Snape gave Harry a brief questioning raised eyebrow, but smirking, he played along. "I understand, Mr Dursley. I also know a boy like him at the school where I teach. He is an arrogant, foolhardy child. Never pays attention to the rules. Unfortunately, it is still another two years before he graduates, when I can finally be rid of him." Snape looked directly at Harry as he spoke, his lips curling. Clearly he was enjoying this.

"I know exactly what you mean, Mr Snape. It's still another two years before we can be rid of this." Uncle Vernon said, pointing at Harry, "and please, call me Vernon. This is my wife Petunia and son Dudley. Dudley's going to be a world champion boxer, you know." He added proudly.

"That is most kind of you, Vernon. Call me Severus."

Harry hated this. All the people he hated most in the world under one roof, talking about Harry as if he was no better than a pile of bird droppings. And to make matters worse, they were getting along like a house on fire. All he needed was for Malfoy and Umbridge to show up and join in the pleasantries and his night would be complete.

"We were just sitting down to afternoon tea, Severus. Would you care to join us?" Uncle Vernon asked, and Aunt Petunia immediately stepped forward, ready to serve up another cup if called upon.

"No, no, I must be getting on. There is much to do. I just stopped by to see your nephew, if that's alright?" Snape asked.

"Quite alright. Harry?" Uncle Vernon indicated to Harry to show Snape into the lounge room so they could talk. As Harry passed Uncle Vernon however, his Uncle said loudly enough for Snape to hear, "watch yourself, boy. I'm not going to get you out of another mess, you ungrateful brat."

Harry reluctantly led a very amused Snape out into the lounge room. Once there, Snape said to Harry, very quietly so he wouldn't be overheard, "Is there someplace else we can talk? Where we will not be heard by the muggle's?" He emphasised the word muggle's.

Harry looked at Snape suspiciously, but said, "My room." Snape indicated to Harry to lead on. On the way, Harry was very conscientious of the fact that he was leading his most hated teacher into his bedroom.

Harry's bedroom was nothing like the rest of the house. Elsewhere, everything was sparkling and spotless. Harry's bedroom was anything but. Dirty clothes and books lay haphazardly on the floor, bed not made, and crumbs on the floor from the cakes he managed to smuggle in. One cannot live on wilted lettuce alone.

Harry turned to Snape who was clearly examining the scene before him with distaste. 'You can't talk,' Harry thought, 'you keep disgusting things in jars all over the place.'

"Yes, but those disgusting things in jars, as you put it, does not contaminate the surrounding's as this," he lifted up a dirty, smelly pair of sneakers, "undoubtedly would."

Harry looked up startled.

"You should have taken more notice of Occlumency, Mr Potter." Snape sneered. Harry glared back.

"How come you were playing nice with my Uncle? I thought you hated muggle's." Harry snapped.

Snape stared intently at Harry before answering. "Firstly, you will refer to me as either Professor, or sir. Secondly, you know nothing about me. Control yourself, Potter," Snape warned, "or I may have to tell your Uncle that you were being most disrespectful." Snape had a glint in his eye. Harry knew that Snape would love to see another show of Uncle Vernon berating him.

Snape circled Harry, trying to intimidate him. "Besides, I do enjoy a spot of Potter bashing, regardless of company," he smirked.

Harry had no retort for this, so he remained silent, waiting for Snape to continue.

Eventually, Snape asked, "What was this story about you working for me, Potter?"

'Oohh, Snape's going to love this," Harry thought, but decided to answer truthfully. It was the least he could do after Snape covered for him.

"They hate magic," Harry said, indicating his relatives. "They would never let me learn more magic over the summer holidays. The job was my cover story."

"I see." Snape's face was frozen.

Not knowing why, Harry continued, "They live in mortal fear that people are going find out about my 'abnormality'. They used to lock up my trunk and broomstick in my old bedroom under the stairs until they were scared away by the knowledge that Sirius is – was – my godfather."

"Bedroom under the stairs?" Snape queried.

"Broom closet."

"And you slept there?"

"Yeah." Harry shook his head. He couldn't believe he just told Snape this. He just handed Snape a whole arsenal to use against him.

Expecting a sharp retort full of snide comments and sarcasm, Harry was surprised when he heard Snape quietly say in a voice devoid of malice, "It could be worse… It could always be worse."

Harry could tell Snape was thinking of his own childhood. Harry had caught a glimpse of Snape's childhood memories accidentally last year, and although they were quite horrible, Harry knew that they were only the tip of the iceberg.

Feeling uncomfortable about the brief moment of understanding that went between them, Harry looked down to the ground and started shuffling his feet.

Just then, Harry had a thought which seemed almost impossible but he had to know none-the-less. Harry picked up the potions book and the note which was sent by the mysterious helper.

"Did you send me this, sir?

Coming out of his reverie, Snape glanced at the book and answered. "And why would I want to do that?"

"I don't know, sir. Someone left it here with this note. I don't know who." Harry handed the note over to Snape. He knew immediately he made a mistake in questioning Snape about this, but it was too late now.

After reading the note, a look of recognition came over Snape's face. He screwed up the note.

"I assure you, Mr Potter, that it was not I who sent you this." Snape took the book from Harry and put it and the note inside his jacket. The moment of understanding passed as quickly as it came.

"In the unlikely event you were to succeed in obtaining the appropriate grade, I would be forced to accept you into Advanced Potions. I am hardly going to make it easier for you."

"Who was it from, then? I could tell you recognised the handwriting." Harry blurted.

"Someone who should very well know to stay out of it!" Snape snapped.

Harry nodded, not wanting to aggravate Snape further. It was clear he wasn't going to get any answers from him.

"Can I have the book back now, sir?" Harry asked. The book was very useful, as it had plenty of information which his textbooks did not.

"No. This book is not a subscribed text." Snape said simply.

Giving up, Harry started to wonder what Snape was doing there in the first place.

"You didn't show up for 'work', of course." Snape again answered Harry's thoughts.

"Stop doing that!" Harry snapped, and then quickly added, "Sir."

Snape smirked again.

"I was only an hour late. I lost track of time." Harry stated truthfully, already knowing how stupid it sounded.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were just too cowardly to turn up after our little incident yesterday."

Harry flushed briefly before regaining control over his emotions. 'It's now or never,' he thought, and braced himself. "I'm sorry I went into your private laboratory, sir. You were right. Once of these days my curiosity is going to get me killed." There, he'd finally done it. Then he thought, 'in for a Knut, in for a Galleon'. "I'm also very sorry for looking into your pensieve. That was inexcusable."

For a while it seemed like Snape was about to make a sharp retort, but said instead, "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr Potter."

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R&R