Chapter Four
Cold comfort
Harry had tucked his arms inside his robes against the chill that was beginning to overtake the dungeon. It felt almost as though it were growing colder by the second. He glanced at Snape, whose eyes were half closed. The professor gave no sign that he was cold or even aware of the plummeting temperature. Harry grimaced as he found himself wishing for a similar stoicism, for the ability simply to keep a stiff upper lip like that instead of physically shivering against the cold air that stole inside his robes and turned his skin to gooseflesh.
They had not spoken a word, ill or kindly, for the better part of an hour. While it was true that the professor wanted nothing more than to keep that way, Harry had the nagging desire to take advantage of the potion's effects and ask Snape a few questions that had been troubling for quite some time. He would very likely never have the opportunity again.
"Professor Snape?" he questioned.
The potions' master's heavy lids rose and he turned his head toward Harry. He looked slightly ashen. Whether it was due to his physical condition or from some other cause, perhaps foreboding and dread or even the potion, Harry could not tell.
"Potter?"
"When I was a first year ... you saved my life at that Quidditch game." he prefaced.
"I suppose."
"Why'd you do it?" asked Harry. "I mean, the headmaster said it was because of my father ... but you told me that he never saved your life, so ..."
"I didn't do it for James Potter. Maybe not even for Lily, Harry." said Snape, pausing as he realized that he had called Potter by his first name. "There's a lot riding on you, on your abilities, on who are or who people believe you to be. Everyone of you, every student, even Gryffindors, deserves a chance to become a great wizard or fall flat on their face in the attempt. While I admit that I have always expected and perhaps wanted you to do the latter, I would hardly be the man that Albus Dumbledore thinks I am, or the person your mother ... once ... a very long time ago said that I could be, if I let Voldemort deny you that chance, that right."
"So, you protected me ... so I would have the chance to fail?" questioned Harry.
Snape thought about the question for a moment and answered, "Yes, I believe that is an adequate conclusion."
"What kind of person did my mother think you could be?" asked Potter after a moment.
Severus smiled softly. It was a rare sight, Harry thought as the smile vanished. Despite Snape's admission that he believed Harry would never be a great wizard, Harry found that he didn't feel angry. The professor had been honest, even if not particularly nice. Harry watched Severus's eyes drift to his left arm.
"An entirely different sort than I turned out to be." he said.
"You mean a Deatheater."
Snape looked up sharply, but nodded, "Yes, a Deatheater. Lily thought ... She thought I would make an excellent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, wanted to be one herself, but she ... didn't have stomach for teaching the stuff. I ... ignored her advice for a long time and ..."
"And?"
"See where it's gotten me?" His eyes were on his arm where he bore the Dark Mark. Severus sighed softly. "No more questions, Potter. Please?"
"Yes, professor." he conceded, feeling a mixture of pity for Snape and regret that he had never known the insightful woman who had been his mother. "This potion sure brings me down." he stated.
"Doesn't it." agreed Severus with a short, dry laugh.
He watched Harry pull his robes even tighter around himself and tremble from the cold. Snape wasn't unaware of the dropping temperature, but he had lived in the dungeons for many years. He had been in Slytherin House as a student, after all. Even when all the charms that made Hogwarts a safe and habitable ancient castle were in place, the dungeons could become a bit drafty, especially during the winter.
Noticing the professor's rather piercing stare, Harry commented, "Er, it's a bit nippy down here."
"Of course it is, Potter. We're dozens of feet under solid, frozen earth. It's only natural." he said, not unkindly. "If you're cold ..." Snape began to say, but stopped. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight back his own amiable feelings. But he lost, despite years of practice. "Come sit over here. We can keep one another warm until help arrives. It shouldn't be long now."
Harry hesitated and tried to think up something horrible about the professor, something to keep him seated on the freezing cold stone, but he couldn't. He only managed a small nod before coming to his feet and making his way toward Snape.
"Thank you, sir." he managed quietly, sitting down next to the potions' master.
Severus put his free arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. Harry had to admit that he felt warmer, but perhaps it was the blush that had crept into his cheeks. This was not how he had envisioned his detention, not at all.
Harry glanced up at Severus, who a peculiar look in his eyes, a sad and perhaps wistful look. Harry felt his own eyes begin to mist over with tears behind his glasses and looked hastily away. He had just made the connection that Severus Snape was the same age as his father would have been.
"Harry ... I am sorry about Lily ... and James too. I wish you could have known them." Severus told him, overwhelmed by a sudden uncanny feeling of empathy. "Potion-induced, no doubt." he thought to himself.
"I've often been told what my father was like ... by you and Professor Lupin and ... other people. Everyone's story is a little different, but no one ever says much about my mum." said Harry, leaving his question unspoken.
Severus unconsciously tightened his grip as he took a deep breath and began, "Well, she was a Gryffindor in every sense of the word ... brave even in a pinch ... and noble as anything, of course, ... smart and quite fetching in her own way. She was clever too ..."
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A/N: I want to thank those who have chosen to review. Thank you, Steph, SilverWolf, snapefan51, kalariah, PandaBear007, blueyed-angel, and Lady FoxFire!!
A note on chapter size: I try to chapter stories out in a logical manner. Sometimes chapters are short. Other times they are not.
To answer the slash question ... I enjoy slash (the tasteful and romantic variety), but I can't write it to save my life. So ... this story is not now nor will it ever be what I consider slash.
And, blueyed-angel, I so agree! I want to read more about Lily too and I can't wait for the next book.
Cold comfort
Harry had tucked his arms inside his robes against the chill that was beginning to overtake the dungeon. It felt almost as though it were growing colder by the second. He glanced at Snape, whose eyes were half closed. The professor gave no sign that he was cold or even aware of the plummeting temperature. Harry grimaced as he found himself wishing for a similar stoicism, for the ability simply to keep a stiff upper lip like that instead of physically shivering against the cold air that stole inside his robes and turned his skin to gooseflesh.
They had not spoken a word, ill or kindly, for the better part of an hour. While it was true that the professor wanted nothing more than to keep that way, Harry had the nagging desire to take advantage of the potion's effects and ask Snape a few questions that had been troubling for quite some time. He would very likely never have the opportunity again.
"Professor Snape?" he questioned.
The potions' master's heavy lids rose and he turned his head toward Harry. He looked slightly ashen. Whether it was due to his physical condition or from some other cause, perhaps foreboding and dread or even the potion, Harry could not tell.
"Potter?"
"When I was a first year ... you saved my life at that Quidditch game." he prefaced.
"I suppose."
"Why'd you do it?" asked Harry. "I mean, the headmaster said it was because of my father ... but you told me that he never saved your life, so ..."
"I didn't do it for James Potter. Maybe not even for Lily, Harry." said Snape, pausing as he realized that he had called Potter by his first name. "There's a lot riding on you, on your abilities, on who are or who people believe you to be. Everyone of you, every student, even Gryffindors, deserves a chance to become a great wizard or fall flat on their face in the attempt. While I admit that I have always expected and perhaps wanted you to do the latter, I would hardly be the man that Albus Dumbledore thinks I am, or the person your mother ... once ... a very long time ago said that I could be, if I let Voldemort deny you that chance, that right."
"So, you protected me ... so I would have the chance to fail?" questioned Harry.
Snape thought about the question for a moment and answered, "Yes, I believe that is an adequate conclusion."
"What kind of person did my mother think you could be?" asked Potter after a moment.
Severus smiled softly. It was a rare sight, Harry thought as the smile vanished. Despite Snape's admission that he believed Harry would never be a great wizard, Harry found that he didn't feel angry. The professor had been honest, even if not particularly nice. Harry watched Severus's eyes drift to his left arm.
"An entirely different sort than I turned out to be." he said.
"You mean a Deatheater."
Snape looked up sharply, but nodded, "Yes, a Deatheater. Lily thought ... She thought I would make an excellent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, wanted to be one herself, but she ... didn't have stomach for teaching the stuff. I ... ignored her advice for a long time and ..."
"And?"
"See where it's gotten me?" His eyes were on his arm where he bore the Dark Mark. Severus sighed softly. "No more questions, Potter. Please?"
"Yes, professor." he conceded, feeling a mixture of pity for Snape and regret that he had never known the insightful woman who had been his mother. "This potion sure brings me down." he stated.
"Doesn't it." agreed Severus with a short, dry laugh.
He watched Harry pull his robes even tighter around himself and tremble from the cold. Snape wasn't unaware of the dropping temperature, but he had lived in the dungeons for many years. He had been in Slytherin House as a student, after all. Even when all the charms that made Hogwarts a safe and habitable ancient castle were in place, the dungeons could become a bit drafty, especially during the winter.
Noticing the professor's rather piercing stare, Harry commented, "Er, it's a bit nippy down here."
"Of course it is, Potter. We're dozens of feet under solid, frozen earth. It's only natural." he said, not unkindly. "If you're cold ..." Snape began to say, but stopped. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight back his own amiable feelings. But he lost, despite years of practice. "Come sit over here. We can keep one another warm until help arrives. It shouldn't be long now."
Harry hesitated and tried to think up something horrible about the professor, something to keep him seated on the freezing cold stone, but he couldn't. He only managed a small nod before coming to his feet and making his way toward Snape.
"Thank you, sir." he managed quietly, sitting down next to the potions' master.
Severus put his free arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. Harry had to admit that he felt warmer, but perhaps it was the blush that had crept into his cheeks. This was not how he had envisioned his detention, not at all.
Harry glanced up at Severus, who a peculiar look in his eyes, a sad and perhaps wistful look. Harry felt his own eyes begin to mist over with tears behind his glasses and looked hastily away. He had just made the connection that Severus Snape was the same age as his father would have been.
"Harry ... I am sorry about Lily ... and James too. I wish you could have known them." Severus told him, overwhelmed by a sudden uncanny feeling of empathy. "Potion-induced, no doubt." he thought to himself.
"I've often been told what my father was like ... by you and Professor Lupin and ... other people. Everyone's story is a little different, but no one ever says much about my mum." said Harry, leaving his question unspoken.
Severus unconsciously tightened his grip as he took a deep breath and began, "Well, she was a Gryffindor in every sense of the word ... brave even in a pinch ... and noble as anything, of course, ... smart and quite fetching in her own way. She was clever too ..."
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A/N: I want to thank those who have chosen to review. Thank you, Steph, SilverWolf, snapefan51, kalariah, PandaBear007, blueyed-angel, and Lady FoxFire!!
A note on chapter size: I try to chapter stories out in a logical manner. Sometimes chapters are short. Other times they are not.
To answer the slash question ... I enjoy slash (the tasteful and romantic variety), but I can't write it to save my life. So ... this story is not now nor will it ever be what I consider slash.
And, blueyed-angel, I so agree! I want to read more about Lily too and I can't wait for the next book.