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 8: Lack of Open Hostilities

Over the next two weeks, a tentative piece broke out between Harry and Snape. Of course, peace is never truly possible between these two, but at least no blood letting occurred. If fact, a few semi-civil conversations were to be had.

The first one happened a week ago. Harry couldn't let go what Snape said about Malfoy, and he had to know more.

Harry was brewing a particularly complicated sleeping draught, while Snape was, as always, sitting at his desk working on his notes. Harry was still curious as to what he was doing, but after last time, he knew better than to pursue it.

"Is what you said about Malfoy true sir?" Harry asked tentatively, not wanting to break the peace.

"What?" Snape answered, not looking up from his work.

"You know, him being abused by his father?"

Snape smirked, one could almost say chuckled, actually, if one were to observe closely enough.

"No"

"But…"

"As I recall, you said, or rather thought, Mr Malfoy deserved the treatment that I was subjected to by your father. I merely responded with a hypothetical scenario."

Harry looked at Snape open-mouthed.

Snape finally looked up from his work. "The point is, Mr Potter, that you truly don't know any of my Slytherins, so what right do you have to judge them? Or state what they deserve? Nobody deserves to be humiliated like that."

Harry was incredulous. "You humiliate people all the time!"

Snape sneered, "And tell me when, exactly, was the time I suspended one of my students up side down in mid air and removed their undergarments?"

"Maybe not that, but what about Hermione? When Malfoy enlarged her teeth? You humiliated her then!"

A dreamy look crept onto Snape's face. It was disconcerting. "Ah, yes, the beaver."

Harry was just about to burst in anger.

"Settle down, Potter, I never said she deserved it. But if I may make my point again for your simple ears, what makes you believe that you are so above the rest of us mere mortals that you can judge us? That you can state what we deserve."

"But Malfoy …" Harry started

"But Malfoy what? What has Mr Malfoy done that is so truly despicable that he deserves to be publicly humiliated? And if Mr Malfoy, or anyone for that matter, had done such despicable acts, you have no way of knowing the circumstances, or what the individual has been through. The world is not black and white, Mr Potter, it is grey. Some things are not so easy to judge."

Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Snape might have been channelling his own past misdeeds in his statement. Despite Harry's tendency to be over-curious, even he knew that whatever it was was none of his business. Harry stared at Snape. He was angry that Snape lied to him, but in a sense understood why he did. Regardless of Snape's treatment of him and his friends, Harry truly did not have the right to say, or think, that Malfoy deserved such treatment.

"Besides, Mr Potter, did you honestly think I would reveal such personal information concerning one of my students to you of all people?"

Harry hated it when Snape was right, and it happened more often than Harry was comfortable with.

Later on in the week, Harry, his curiosity once again getting the best of him, had to know why Snape was tutoring him over summer.

"Why are you doing this sir?" Harry had asked.

"Why am I doing what?" Snape snapped back.

"Teaching me. I don't understand why you would want to spend your summer with me, of all people, considering how much you hate me."

"What I do is none of your concern Potter, get back to work."

"I'm doing this because – " Harry started, wanting for some reason to engage in conversation.

"I'm well aware of your foolish ambitions of being an Auror, Potter," Snape cut in.

Losing control of his anger, Harry blurted, "You just can't handle a civil conversation, can you sir? Are you scared someone might end up liking you or something?"

Snape sneered. "I am quite capable of a civil conversation, Potter. I just have no desire to have one with you."

Harry flushed, and concentrated on his potion. He knew he added too many porcupine quills, but he didn't care. Eventually, Snape offered, "The headmaster promised me the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

Harry was stunned. "Hang on, if you're teaching Defense Against the Dark arts, who will be teaching Potions?"

"I am."

"But..."

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts post was arranged some time ago. A personal friend of mine will teach for one year. I will assist her and take over the following year. She needs teaching experience apparently." Snape sounded quite bitter as he said this, and Harry wondered if he inadvertently stepped into something he shouldn't have … again.

This minor revelation didn't stop Harry from looking at Snape in abject horror. Two classes with Snape? He didn't think he could stand it.

It was now just six days until the end of summer holidays, four days until he had to take his test. Harry was anticipating the end of the more than normal torturous summer, but he had one other horrendous task to fulfil first.

"Sir?" Harry asked, colour fading from his face at the thought of what he had to do.

"Yes"

"I – I have to ask you something."

"Out with it, Potter, I don't have all day."

"Well, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia have invited you to dinner tomorrow night."

Snape's face went as pale as Harry's.

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R&R