Title: Inside Down, Upside Out

Author: Becka

Chapter 7: Double Standard

o

"You're late," Snape said as the door opened and Xander stepped in.

"Sorry, _Professor_," Xander replied softly.

The older man gave him a curious look as the dark-haired man took a seat. "See that it doesn't happen again."

"_It_ won't." Xander was satisfied to see Severus' jaw clench.

Turning to the rest of the class, he said, "All of you are first-years, here, except of course for our _guest_, Mr. Harris. You are here to learn the subtle science of potion making. This is an art form; it is both difficult and exact, and I don't expect many of you will be able to master it. But I _will_ teach you and you will learn enough to hopefully not make complete fools of yourselves."

Snape gestured to the board and a list of instructions. "That," he said, "is what you will do to make a simple potion to cure boils. Everyone but Mr. Harris may begin."

Xander felt his stomach turn, and he waited expectantly for Snape to explain what he would be doing.

Without hesitation, the older man dropped a scroll onto the desk and said, "As you're older, I thought you might like to try something more... advanced."

Feeling lost, the dark-haired man began to read through the scroll, the sinking feeling in his gut increasing when he realized that the potion Snape wanted him to make was far more complex than anything he'd read about in any of the books he'd bought. It was almost as though the teacher was _trying_ to make him fail.

/Of course./ Xander snorted. /He _is_ trying to make me screw up. Figures./

Without any preamble, Xander began to work. He'd be damned if he'd let the older man intimidate him.

For the most part, Snape left him alone during the class. He had his hands full of first-years making silly mistakes, which was only natural. Even a simple potion like the one they were working on still required _exact_ precision, and most of the kids were only eleven years old and were still developing their coordination.

One boy managed to create a vile concoction that ate through the table and burned his hands on it. He was immediately sent to the hospital wing. Another boy was a complete klutz and kept breaking his glass vials, and worse, one of the girls seemed to be unable to follow instructions and cried, loudly, every time she messed up.

It was difficult for Xander to focus with so many distractions, but he kept remembering Snape's wry smile and cruel words and vowed to himself that he'd wipe the smirk off the older man's face.

The class finished sometime later and was dismissed; however, Xander wasn't nearly done with his potion and opted to stay. He sat through two more classes, second-years and fifth-years, and towards the end of the class, he was almost positive that he'd finally succeeded.

Snape, who'd been watching him through narrowed eyes, seemed to sense this, and called the classes attention to Xander's potion.

"Mr. Harris," he said with that damnable smile, "has been working on a potion all day - one that should have only taken him about an hour to complete."

Xander bit his tongue. He'd never made a potion before in his life; he thought it was only fair he had extra time to do it. Beyond that, halfway through, he'd realized that most of the ingredients were _extremely_ dangerous and he decided to slow down and be more careful with them.

The Professor continued, "The real question," he told the fifth-years, "is whether or not he got it right."

Remembering the deadly nature of the ingredients, Xander said snidely, "Well, I don't know, _Professor_. Maybe you'd like to take a sip and find out."

/I hope you choke on it, bastard./

Snape gave him a reproving glare and shook his head. "I think not. Though I doubt you got it right, there is a very slim chance, and I'd rather not poison myself. The test, then."

Under the curious stares of students, the older man took one of the potted plants from the window and placed it on Xander's desk. Their eyes met and the dark-haired man resisted the urge to stick his tongue out.

Using a goblet to carefully collect some of the potion, Snape poured a single drop onto the plant. Nothing happened.

"Well," Snape drawled, "It seems that you've fail-"

The leaves of the plant turned black, and the blackness spread down through the stem and to the roots. Even as it wilted, the pot itself shattered, and the dirt began to eat a hole through Xander's desk. Surprised, both of them took a step back, and some of the dirt fell to the floor and began to eat away at the stone tiles.

"You were saying?" Xander asked.

Severus, for his part, looked stunned.

Without a word, the dark-haired man pulled out his wand and whispered one of the spells he'd studied. A tiny storm cloud appeared over the desk, and the water diluted the contaminated dirt.

Satisfied that his potion wasn't damaging the building anymore, Xander turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving a shocked Professor and a curious class in his wake.

o

Xander heard footsteps following him, but he didn't slow down.

"Wait!"

Groaning, the dark-haired man paused, turned around, and leveled a glare of his own at Severus.

The older man swallowed and looked uncomfortable. Finally he asked, "How are you, Alexander?"

"Inside down and upside out, _sir_." Xander stressed the last syllable bitterly.

"What does _that_ mean?"

"It means," Xander glanced around, making sure that the hall was empty, "That all of this is ass backwards, Severus. We fucked, and _you_ blew me off like I was some kind of _whore_."

Snape opened his mouth to protest, but Xander continued relentlessly, "I may have teased you, but at least my intentions were good. That little stunt you pulled back there... I'm not dumb, you know. That was probably the most difficult potion you could come up with, and then you had the audacity to _announce_ it!"

"I-"

The dark-haired man cut him off, "_You_ wanted to _humiliate_ me in front of a class of fifteen-year-olds just because you _could_. And, contrary to popular belief, I'm _not_ a freakin' doormat, so fuck you and your Goddamned mind games, 'cause I'm not a student here. I came here because I wanted to, and now I'm leaving because I want to."

He paused, breathing heavily, and hissed, "The only thing this whole fucking school has going for it is the building itself, and screw you, 'cause the building is the _only_ thing I'm going to miss."

With that parting line, Xander turned around and stormed off.

Eyes wide, Snape stared after him. He hadn't... he'd known that he'd injured the boy's pride, but he hadn't realized how deep that injury ran. He bit his lip, knowing that he should follow Xander, but he was unwilling to face up to the heated wrath he knew he deserved.

/I didn't... I thought he was just playing with me./

All of the boy's teasing looks, all of the innuendoes, had convinced him of that. Severus' heart had been played with before. His feelings had been his downfall, and he'd vowed that no one would get close enough to tear him apart like that again.

/I didn't want to feel. I didn't want to fall in love./

"Too late," he muttered softly to himself.

One of the walls shifted marginally, angling towards him. It shifted a second time, beckoning.

Snape understood completely. He walked over to the wall, laid his hands on the cool stone, and proceeded to bang his head against it. Each hit was punctuated with his words - "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

He felt the floor beneath his feet shudder, and somehow he knew that Hogwarts agreed completely.

o