As soon as he arrived at Hogwarts, Harry felt familiar eyes on him. He looked unerringly towards a corner of the Entrance Hall, and caught a dark flutter, as of black robes turning hastily away. That set the pattern for the evening. Throughout the start of term banquet, Harry would try to look at Snape, only to find the professor's eyes would be turned away. As soon as Harry looked elsewhere, however, he would feel the weight of Snape's stare on him. At this rate, he wouldn't have to worry about how to tell Snape what his mother had done, because the man wouldn't even look at him! Which, he supposed, could be seen as a good thing.
While unpacking, Harry began mentally composing what he would tell Snape. However, he couldn't come up with any sensible ideas, except for deciding that he'd definitely need the diary. At least that way he might be able to avoid having to explain exactly what his mother had done to them.
Maybe he could just leave Snape a copy of that page, and then avoid him for the next two years? Unfortunately, that probably wouldn't work, much to his disappointment. Which left only a face-to-face conversation. With Snape. The man he was bound to in some bizarre way. Something akin to terror was creeping around inside Harry's belly.
Finally, he came up with something resembling an idea. He scribbled a quick, barely-legible note, and told Ron he had to do something, but would be back soon. He made his way to Snape's office, and slid the note under the door. He then slipped quickly back upstairs, since if Snape had been in his office he might try to catch him. He definitely wasn't ready to talk to him just yet.
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Professor SnapeI have something very important that needs to be discussed with you, about my mother. You did say that I could come back and talk to you after the holidays, so I'll be at your office tomorrow, right after dinner. If that's not okay with you, please tell me.
Harry Potter
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Severus had been in his office when the note appeared under his door. Normally he would have been instantly suspicious, attempting to catch whoever was stupid enough to leave him a note so secretively, but he had known, in some strange way, that it had been Potter outside his door. He didn't even want to open the door to check, just in case his ridiculous idea was correct.
Ever since the events of July 31st – the boy's birthday, if he remembered correctly – he'd felt a strange reluctance to face him. It was ridiculous! He, Severus Snape, was scared of a man-child not even old enough to be trusted with his own magic. Even if Potter was the Boy Who Lived, and all the rest of it.
Telling himself that didn't make him any more eager to face the boy. He called himself a coward, but all he was able to do was persuade himself not to send the boy a note telling him not to come the following day.
After all, he did want to make Potter explain exactly what he'd done to give him the boy's mother's memories of Harry, and to make him so hyper-aware of the boy's presence. For the first time in years, Severus could feel butterflies in his stomach.