Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling. I am only using them to
amuse myself and others.
A/N: Hello all! I just wanted to take a minute and thank all of my awesome reviewers:
Ruth: You'll soon see how Snape chooses to react to Harry's outburst. Hope you like it.
eyes0nme19: I'm glad you like this. Thanks for the encouragement.
penny: Here's the next installment – hope you enjoy.
idril.tinuviel: Yes, the moment Snape has lived for has finally come. ;)
And now, on with the story...
~ Chapter 4 ~
The next morning dawned dull and rainy, perfectly matching the mood of Hogwarts' resident Potions Master. Severus was dwelling on the previous night's revelation concerning Potter. Severus had always assumed that the 'Gryffindor golden boy' had been pampered by his relatives, but this illusion had been shattered by the younger wizard's forceful outburst. Severus wanted to believe the boy was lying, but the pain in his voice spoke of honesty. Now what was he to do? He had heard the pain in the young man's voice, but more importantly, the self-loathing. Severus knew Potter had blamed himself for his godfather's death, but thought he had gotten over it by now. The boy certainly seemed happy enough when causing trouble with his friends. But was that really how he felt? Or was it just a mask he put on to face the world, much like the one he, himself, always wore? Severus never thought he would feel sympathy for the irritating boy, but that was exactly how he felt now. It was in that moment that Severus decided to do something to help Potter. Yes, he would talk to the boy and help him overcome his pain. Severus was either doing something very kind or very stupid – though he felt sure the latter was correct.
* * *
That evening, Potter arrived at the dungeons in a sullen mood with eyes downcast. "What am I supposed to do tonight, Sir?" asked Potter, his voice lacking its usual sureness.
"You will be slicing some ingredients to be used in a potion I am brewing," stated Severus, while contemplating the young man's somber attitude. It wasn't like Potter to be so sad. Usually, if he was in a bad mood, he would bounce back quickly. Rarely, if ever, had Severus seen the younger wizard so distant. It seemed as if something he had said the previous night had caused him to curl in upon himself. Stupid idea or not, Severus knew something had to be done tonight.
Potter finished his work in under an hour, Severus having deliberately set it up so that they would have a long time afterwards in order to talk. Potter walked up to the Potion Master's desk and asked, "Since I've finished my work, may I go back to my dormitory now?"
"Not quite yet," Severus replied, "You have finished your work, but I would like a word with you before you leave tonight." With that said, Severus stood and led the way to his private chambers. He had decided earlier that it would probably be a less intimidating setting for their chat than his office would be.
Contrary to popular belief, Severus did not live in a hole in the ground or some slimy dungeon of a room. In fact, his private chambers were among the nicest Hogwarts had to offer. The coloring of the room was dark – plush rugs covered a beautiful hardwood floor that matched the dark wood of the fireplace and numerous bookcases. Before the fire stood a comfy- looking black leather sofa with a matching chair flanking each side. Severus motioned for Potter to take one of the chairs, while he took the other.
"Would you like some tea?" Severus asked.
Confusion showing clearly in his emerald eyes, Potter responded, "Yes, please."
Severus conjured two cups of tea, took a sip of his, and then began the speech he had planed, "Last night you said some things that got me concerned." At the look of disbelief on Potters face, Severus added, "Yes, I am concerned about you. Heaven knows I am probably as shocked as you are, but it's true. I must admit that I always believed you were pampered by the muggles you grew up with, but after your outburst last night, I know differently. You should not listen to a thing they say. You are not a freak because you are a wizard, or for any other reason. You did not deserve to be treated as you were by them, and I will not have you believing otherwise. I always said that you shouldn't be pampered, but I never wanted to see you treated as filth by your only relatives. I also wanted to clue you into the fact that you are not the center of the universe and it is not your fault Black died, whatever you might think to the contrary."
Onyx eyes met emerald, and Severus saw the tears straining for release. Then, Potter spoke softly, almost in a whisper, "You're wrong. It is my fault Sirius died. If I hadn't taken Voldemort's bait, he would still be alive. It's all my fault."
"Must I say it a thousand times to get it through your thick skull? It was not your fault that Black died. True, you could have realized the Dark Lord's trick, but a lot of other things could have happened. Dumbledore could have told you about the prophecy when you first arrived at Hogwarts, Sirius could have stayed behind while the others went to save you and your friends...I could have tried harder to teach you Occlumency. You cannot play these games of what if. It will get you nothing except a feeling of self-loathing that is not conductive to living. Believe me, Potter, I know what it is to have regrets, but I do not let them get in the way of living my life. You have got to move on if you ever want to live."
"You mean, I have to get over Sirius' death if I am going to kill Voldemort. That's all I'm good for, isn't it? But after I kill him, then what? Then what am I supposed to do? Everyone will care for me only until I kill him, then they won't give a damn what happens to me." Throughout his tirade, Potter's eyes blazed with anger, but also with fear.
"If and when you kill the Dark Lord, everyone will be singing your praises and giving you even more attention. I, though I will be glad to see him gone, will still care about what happens to you. Somehow, Potter, I have found myself in the position to keep you out of trouble and save you when in need." Severus was surprised to find that he meant the words he spoke, though he was loath to admit that he might be beginning to like the boy.
"Please, call me Harry," said Potter, eyes now shinning with gratitude.
"Alright, Harry."
A/N: Hello all! I just wanted to take a minute and thank all of my awesome reviewers:
Ruth: You'll soon see how Snape chooses to react to Harry's outburst. Hope you like it.
eyes0nme19: I'm glad you like this. Thanks for the encouragement.
penny: Here's the next installment – hope you enjoy.
idril.tinuviel: Yes, the moment Snape has lived for has finally come. ;)
And now, on with the story...
~ Chapter 4 ~
The next morning dawned dull and rainy, perfectly matching the mood of Hogwarts' resident Potions Master. Severus was dwelling on the previous night's revelation concerning Potter. Severus had always assumed that the 'Gryffindor golden boy' had been pampered by his relatives, but this illusion had been shattered by the younger wizard's forceful outburst. Severus wanted to believe the boy was lying, but the pain in his voice spoke of honesty. Now what was he to do? He had heard the pain in the young man's voice, but more importantly, the self-loathing. Severus knew Potter had blamed himself for his godfather's death, but thought he had gotten over it by now. The boy certainly seemed happy enough when causing trouble with his friends. But was that really how he felt? Or was it just a mask he put on to face the world, much like the one he, himself, always wore? Severus never thought he would feel sympathy for the irritating boy, but that was exactly how he felt now. It was in that moment that Severus decided to do something to help Potter. Yes, he would talk to the boy and help him overcome his pain. Severus was either doing something very kind or very stupid – though he felt sure the latter was correct.
* * *
That evening, Potter arrived at the dungeons in a sullen mood with eyes downcast. "What am I supposed to do tonight, Sir?" asked Potter, his voice lacking its usual sureness.
"You will be slicing some ingredients to be used in a potion I am brewing," stated Severus, while contemplating the young man's somber attitude. It wasn't like Potter to be so sad. Usually, if he was in a bad mood, he would bounce back quickly. Rarely, if ever, had Severus seen the younger wizard so distant. It seemed as if something he had said the previous night had caused him to curl in upon himself. Stupid idea or not, Severus knew something had to be done tonight.
Potter finished his work in under an hour, Severus having deliberately set it up so that they would have a long time afterwards in order to talk. Potter walked up to the Potion Master's desk and asked, "Since I've finished my work, may I go back to my dormitory now?"
"Not quite yet," Severus replied, "You have finished your work, but I would like a word with you before you leave tonight." With that said, Severus stood and led the way to his private chambers. He had decided earlier that it would probably be a less intimidating setting for their chat than his office would be.
Contrary to popular belief, Severus did not live in a hole in the ground or some slimy dungeon of a room. In fact, his private chambers were among the nicest Hogwarts had to offer. The coloring of the room was dark – plush rugs covered a beautiful hardwood floor that matched the dark wood of the fireplace and numerous bookcases. Before the fire stood a comfy- looking black leather sofa with a matching chair flanking each side. Severus motioned for Potter to take one of the chairs, while he took the other.
"Would you like some tea?" Severus asked.
Confusion showing clearly in his emerald eyes, Potter responded, "Yes, please."
Severus conjured two cups of tea, took a sip of his, and then began the speech he had planed, "Last night you said some things that got me concerned." At the look of disbelief on Potters face, Severus added, "Yes, I am concerned about you. Heaven knows I am probably as shocked as you are, but it's true. I must admit that I always believed you were pampered by the muggles you grew up with, but after your outburst last night, I know differently. You should not listen to a thing they say. You are not a freak because you are a wizard, or for any other reason. You did not deserve to be treated as you were by them, and I will not have you believing otherwise. I always said that you shouldn't be pampered, but I never wanted to see you treated as filth by your only relatives. I also wanted to clue you into the fact that you are not the center of the universe and it is not your fault Black died, whatever you might think to the contrary."
Onyx eyes met emerald, and Severus saw the tears straining for release. Then, Potter spoke softly, almost in a whisper, "You're wrong. It is my fault Sirius died. If I hadn't taken Voldemort's bait, he would still be alive. It's all my fault."
"Must I say it a thousand times to get it through your thick skull? It was not your fault that Black died. True, you could have realized the Dark Lord's trick, but a lot of other things could have happened. Dumbledore could have told you about the prophecy when you first arrived at Hogwarts, Sirius could have stayed behind while the others went to save you and your friends...I could have tried harder to teach you Occlumency. You cannot play these games of what if. It will get you nothing except a feeling of self-loathing that is not conductive to living. Believe me, Potter, I know what it is to have regrets, but I do not let them get in the way of living my life. You have got to move on if you ever want to live."
"You mean, I have to get over Sirius' death if I am going to kill Voldemort. That's all I'm good for, isn't it? But after I kill him, then what? Then what am I supposed to do? Everyone will care for me only until I kill him, then they won't give a damn what happens to me." Throughout his tirade, Potter's eyes blazed with anger, but also with fear.
"If and when you kill the Dark Lord, everyone will be singing your praises and giving you even more attention. I, though I will be glad to see him gone, will still care about what happens to you. Somehow, Potter, I have found myself in the position to keep you out of trouble and save you when in need." Severus was surprised to find that he meant the words he spoke, though he was loath to admit that he might be beginning to like the boy.
"Please, call me Harry," said Potter, eyes now shinning with gratitude.
"Alright, Harry."