Chapter 27

Secret Conversation And A Spy

The rumours concerning the physical state or mental health of Professor Severus Snape had flood the school like the parting of an ocean. One half of the student population thought he was slowly loosing his mind while the other thought he was putting it on to gain sympathy.

"He suddenly realised that being such a miserable old greasy git doesn't make people like you. Respect, yes but like? Definitely not," someone had said over lunch at the Gryffindor table.

Harry Potter heard the rumours too. He certainly wasn't oblivious to them. And he was noticing the gradual decline in Severus Snape's physical and mental well being.

He looked wan at best. Not that the oily potions master didn't look pale anyway. Being down in dark cold dungeons couldn't be doing much for him on the inside as well as his sallow complexion. Lack of sun light deprived a person of valuable nutrition's.

Then there was the vampire thing going around. Again. The black hair, the black billowing robes gave him a flair of mystery, a swooping black figure, cloaked in the darkness, with a raging temper, quick to bite. A common euphemism for a extortionist.

Harry rolled his eyes. He had heard it all before and nothing seemed to change from one generation to the next. Myths and legends about the head of Slytherin came like a popular allegory, perhaps changing direction slightly, but over all the same.

Harry certainly didn't believe that Severus Snape was a vampire. Not now. When he was a boy he wondered a few times. The mentality, an almost inhuman quality seemed to cloak the man.

Yes he acted like one, looked like one, even dressed like one and had the intuition and secret sensitivity expressed in his birth sign that led some people to believe he could read minds. But to Harry, Severus Snape was just a man. A horrible vindictive nasty man, but human, very human, quite mortal, despite his appearance. He seemed to never age. Then again Professor Dumbledore was believed to be well over one hundred and sixty. Magic people generally lived longer than their Muggle compatriots.

Certainly right now Professor Severus Snape most defiantly looked like death warmed up.

When he had arrived at Hogwarts to be told that his least liked teacher was very sick, some unlabeled, intangible feeling pulled at Harry's heart. He felt guilty about it at first because, 'didn't he hate him?' Who cared whether he lived or died, but something told him, at least after he found those photos of his mother and Severus, that perhaps he wasn't so bad.

Yes, Severus Snape was horrible, needed some kind of therapy, but a thought nagged at Harry's conscience that said that there was something more deeper, ingrained to the very core of Severus than simple primordial inbred hate. Severus Snape had to much of an intellect to hate for no reason, he realised.

As an adult Harry had a different reflection of him, unlike a child who only sees the outside appearance.

Now a man, Harry had begun to wonder why Severus Snape was the man he was.

Death Eater, double agent and teacher was stressful enough.

Bad memories? Harry wondered, possibly nightmares? As a child, sneaking about the school in the dead of night only shrouded by his father's invisibility cloak, Severus had always been there, nearly succeeding in catching him out of bed. Insomniac? Definitely. That might account for nightmares.

Harry knew all about nightmares, what with Voldemort, his parents and then the gnome wars.

But there were things Harry supposed, Severus Snape had seen far greater than anything he himself had witnessed, no wonder he was always so cruel.

Then Harry began to notice a dramatic loss of weight from an already slim man. He had appeared a little more stockier when Harry had first saw him to speak to in his dungeon office. Gods they even had a reasonable conversation about nothing.

A heavier build seemed to suit Professor Snape, but now he was so thin, thinner than he could remember. Harry couldn't have helped noticing how his robes had started to hang on him and his skin looked stretched over exposed cheek bones.

Severus always arrived for his classes later than normal, shuddering slightly and in a cold sweet. If Harry hadn't been so observant and knowing, he would have said that the potions master was bulimic. Some days he looked so sickly Harry feared he would collapse any second.

He would try and offer unspoken help, take extra classes and prepare assignments and the such, subtle help that Severus would'nt really notice, but he was as stubborn as ever and of course, he noticed. He had a keen eye for things that seemed out of the ordinary.

It was all Harry could do, but in the end despite the bickering Severus conceded and let Harry get on with it. Arguing was a waste of precious energy for which he didn't have.

He was spending a lot of time alone in his dungeons, resting. At least that's what Harry hoped. Knowing Dumbledore, if Snape pop's his clogs, who's the man whose entire responcibility will it fall upon to take over until a replacement is found? Harry had thought with a groan. I'm not qualified to be a full time potions teacher. I ain't doing it. Job or no job.

He knew full well the children were curiously suspicious when the normally unfazed Professor Snape was having so much time off. Then there was Harry Potter himself as Severus' assistant.

Professor Snape never had an assistant before. Not any time while as a teacher at Hogwarts. If he didn't know any better Harry would have thought he was worrying about him.

Harry skirted down the corridor in haste, it was late and he had an important assignment to finish. He was faced by two fifth year Gryffindor girls standing, muttering in the corridor and they made no effort to hide who they were talking about.

"I tell ya Chris, he's turned into a complete wreck. Did you see him the other day? I would have sworn he was close to tears. The eyes, I've never seen him look so desolate." She shrugged.

"Probably killing himself with one of his own potions," said the other girl with a laugh. "Good riddance too."

Harry shuddered. He stalked right up to them.

"Don't you dare say things like that about Professor Snape. OK? He's just having a bad time at the moment."

"Sorry sir," said the girl.

"Go on then." Harry pointed the direction to the Gryffindor common room. "Bog off." Both girls looked at each other in shock and dived around a corner.

What on Earth had possessed him to say that? Harry winced at the evident anger and lack of control. He had an image to set now he was a teacher. Oh, he thought. He already had quite reputation.

'Harry Potter, the boy who lived. The man who defeated Voldemort once, and for all!' That was the familiar title he had grown accustomed to reading in the papers and hearing from the lips of strangers.

Harry sighed and made his way down the corridor towards the dungeons and the Potions classroom.

He turned a sharp corner and stopped. It was Professor Snape and Taya Matterson. Harry slid himself inside the alcove and watched.

She's actually quite attractive, he thought randomly.

Only three years older the woman depicted a creature far older than her mere twenty five years. Physically she was small, tiny even. The top of her head barely came up to Severus' shoulders. Her hair was softly tousled, auburn with gold flecks. Her skin was pale, but she didn't look sickly, quite the contrary.

Delightful. Harry caught himself thinking and mentally slapped himself. Jinny, he thought and a wave of familiar comfort shrouded him like a security blanket. His first love and very soon his one and only love, his wife. So he should stop looking at that beautiful creature over there.

Harry blinked. She was touching the professor and he let her. They must be really good friends, he thought, to let her touch him like that. Harry frowned. "Odd," he breathed aloud while watching the potions master abruptly pull away and stare blankly for a time at a stone gargoyle.

"Bloody hell," Professor Snape exclaimed in an exasperated voice. Taya moved forward, closer again. Harry continued to watch with interest, and saw that the elder man was rubbing his forehead in an abrasive manner.

Harry gasped as the girl took a side step over into his direction. He swallowed fearing that she had noticed him. He was relieved to see her step closer to Severus again.

A slight gust of wind caught her long cotton gypsy style skirt, sweeping it against her legs. Severus' cloak flapped against his body like a great black sail. And as Harry continued to view the scene he remembered.

She had a strange air of mystery about her much like Severus Snape. Taya had been in Slytherin as a student. If Harry remembered correctly she was really strange, and hadn't fit in that house at all. Her friends, when he saw her out and about had been anyone but a Slytherin.

Harry shook his head. Strange? What was strange? All of this was strange, especially in this life. Nothing could have surprised him more until he saw the girl gently touch the potions master's cheek and held his hand in hers. Harry's eyes widened in disbelief at the spectacle. Severus didn't seem to notice her touch him. He seemed to much absorbed by an inner struggle.

"I am afraid," he whispered. To hear Severus Snape admit fear, a course of surprise thread through Harry's veins. "The trial's soon."

"You are bound to be. It's a very intense situation."

"I wish I never have to see him again."

"It'll be over soon."

"I know, but... they will ask those questions of me. Dumbledore just said that so I may feel easier but..." For a moment his voice trailed off. "I am terrified that I will go numb."

"They will question you and you will answer them as best you can. It's not you that is on trial..."

What trial? Harry thought. He peered closer and watched as Taya brushed an uncooperative strand of dark hair off Severus' forehead.

"...not even a trial in the first place, love." Harry couldn't hear properly, but from what he could gather of those mostly random words was that someone was in trouble.

"We will to get through it. You have to remember he has nothing and we have-" Harry didn't hear the last few words but from what he was gathering something serious was going on.

"The Ministry will be gentle with you," she said. "They wont let Lorsekruker get anywhere near you. You know that. And I'll be right there with you, so will Albus. You're not alone. Remember you are never alone, not any more. Those years are gone. They are destroyed and all gone."

What's he done? Thought Harry totally absorbed by their conversation, it was a keen invitation to keep listening.

Harry watched with a frown as she pressed her palm against the potions master's chest. And to believe that they are rivals. The Potions master and the DATDA teacher. It was still a knowing fact that he still greatly yearned for the position kept from him for years. It's so blatantly obvious she likes him. Harry rubbed his chin then jerked the neck of his T-shirt away from his throat.

"I'll be in here," she whispered. Severus suddenly moved.

"Listen!" he said jerking his head, causing the loose shiny waves of hair to violently flick around his narrow face. "I sense someone is here."

"Shit." Harry swore aloud not realising his foot had scuffed on the stone floor when he had moved. Quickly he made a dive further into the shadows. Where was his invisibility cloak when he needed it? Back in his room.

He heard Taya say something.

"You are just imagining thing. Feeling jumpy?" She rested a hand against his stomach. "You really ought to eat more you know. You are getting too thin." Harry never heard the rest. He squeezed passed them, luckily without being seen.