Suddenly, Severus's dwindling fire blazed back into life. He cursed under
his breath, wishing he'd had the forethought to extinguish it himself as
soon as he came down: the cold wouldn't harm him, but the prospect of
company might.
"If you were thinking of eating down there, Sev, you can forget it," Dumbledore said firmly, his head appearing in the green flames. "I expect everyone - and that includes you - to take their meals in the Great Hall now that it is no longer just us two remaining."
"Must I, Albus? I need to finish a batch of post-Cruciatus potion. . ."
"Stop this adolescent sulking and come up immediately Severus Snape. You are just lucky that I chose to make this firecall in the antechamber, not in the Great Hall. Now, unless you wish me to have to come and fetch you, I suggest that you Floo up."
"All right," Severus snapped testily, feeling his face flush slightly at such juvenile treatment. "Move out of the fire and I'll come up, its obviously impossible with you venerable head in the way."
Dumbledore frowned at him, but vanished immediately, and Severus stepped in and Flooed upstairs, not feeling at all enthusiastic at the prospect of eating all of his meals with a pair of adolescent or pre-adolescent boys, one a Gryffindor and the other quite likely to follow his example. Dumbledore looked up from the seat he had just taken at the table when Severus came in.
"Ah, Professor Snape, glad you could join us," the headmaster said, just as if he hadn't been ordered to come. "I know how important your potions work is. Please, take a seat."
Severus found himself sitting sandwiched between Harry Potter and the Headmaster, who was talking earnestly to young Evans about some incomprehensible Muggle custom. He picked at his appetizing food in a stony, disapproving silence, hoping that no one, even Dumbledore, would dare to disturb him. It was unacceptable, ordering him around as if he was still a student himself, he, easily acknowledged the best potions master in Europe, degraded to a teenage student.
"Uh Professor," Potter began, stupid boy. Severus turned to glare at him, hoping he'd get the hint. Unfortunately, being a Gryffindor, he didn't. "If you still want to do some Quidditch training, do you have a time that you'd prefer? I mean, I can do any time, except when I have lessons with Professor Dumbledore."
"Or me. "Yes Potter, your Occlumency lessons will be continuing every evening straight after dinner," he said, smirking in satisfaction as the boy winced and shuddered apprehensively. It would be perfectly all right for him, so long as he remembered to take the proper precautions with any items he'd prefer to remain private, like his Pensieve for instance. Then he thought carefully about the time that the boy would dislike the most. He had an idea - the boy was a teenager, after all. "As for Quidditch, seven o'clock every morning is acceptable to me."
"Yes sir, that's fine by me too. Its kind of you to take the time," Potter replied, not seeming at all put out.
Shut up Potter, Severus thought to himself, getting irritated by the boy's irrepressible nature. Even though he hadn't said it aloud, hadn't dared to with Dumbledore at the table and no doubt supervising him carefully, Potter must have finally got the idea, because he applied himself to his food and made no further effort at conversation.
Later that evening, after everyone else in the castle was asleep, Severus took his usual evening stroll, when he calmed down enough after the day to sleep. The students called it his patrol, no doubt because he was in no way inclined to be lenient on any student he caught breaking curfew and interrupting his own silent thoughts. It was then that he saw the two boys walking through the corridors.
Potter was wearing pyjamas that might have fitted him perfectly three years ago, but now were faded, patched and came ended just below his knees, displaying thin, scrawny legs.
"What do you think you're doing?" Severus asked icily. Mark shrank back behind his older cousin.
"Mark wanted to send a letter to his father, sir," Potter replied, not moving an inch and staring him straight in the eye, as if to prove he wasn't at all intimidated.
"Mr Potter, while you are at school, it would make perfect sense that the school rules apply, which I'm sure you would have realized if you applied even your somewhat lacking brain to the problem. That decision from the Headmaster includes the rule forbidding nighttime wanderings to students out after curfew. I will take the letter to the Owlery myself, but you will both go to bed immediately!"
"Yes sir."
Mark thrust the letter hastily into his hand and fled back towards the Gryffindor tower, Potter walking briskly after him, not hassled, not scared by the encounter. Severus looked at the letter and decided to do a typically Slytherin thing and get information from any available source. He opened the letter carefully with a delicate charm that would allow him to reseal it after he'd perused the facts.
Hey Dad,
Missing you but this place is so cool. I can tell I'm not going to get bored. Harry's great, and he's showing me everything. He started teaching me to fly today after we came back from Diagon Alley. Its great fun, a bit like riding a motorbike, so maybe I won't buy one when I'm sixteen - this could easily be better and faster. He's a really good teacher, so don't worry, and I think I'm learning loads. He suggested that I come to watch him train with Snape tomorrow, and I think I'm going to if I can get up in time. It ought to be amazing, since Professor Dumbledore told me that Harry's amazing, the youngest player on a house team in over a century!
The strangest thing happened at dinner today. Snape said something about Occlumency lessons, and Harry looked terrified. I asked him about it later, and he said that Occlumency is stopping someone reading your mind (he said looking through your memories, but it's the same thing, isn't it?) and the only way to learn is to try it. I couldn't see what was so bad about that, but Harry just said 'there are things in my head that I wouldn't wish on anyone'. Weird, huh? Do you know what he meant? I mean, he's only sixteen, I think, so he can't have done that much.
Harry's promised to work out some stuff that'll stop Dudley bullying me, but don't worry, it won't actually hurt him (much) just scare him off. Well, I've got to stop now, because else Harry says we'll get caught by Snape on the way to posting it.
See you Markarry lookedHarr
Severus re-read the letter, committing it to memory, then resealed it and posted it using a school owl. Then he thought about the words that Mark had said Potter had used. Gryffindor bravery? More like Hufflepuff stupidity if he was that scared of a simple lesson. There was nothing in an Occlumency lesson that could physically harm him, after all, and it would keep him safer in a combat situation. Potter was too Gryffindor for his own good, whatever the Sorting Hat thought - he'd no doubt feel much better if he did relax enough to talk to someone.
Severus decided that he wouldn't go to the Headmaster about this - he could just imagine the tongue-lashing he'd receive for reading the letter in the first place, not worth it for the meager information he'd collected. Still, at least he'd found something vaguely useful beside the signs that Mark was swiftly become another of Potter's lackeys.
"If you were thinking of eating down there, Sev, you can forget it," Dumbledore said firmly, his head appearing in the green flames. "I expect everyone - and that includes you - to take their meals in the Great Hall now that it is no longer just us two remaining."
"Must I, Albus? I need to finish a batch of post-Cruciatus potion. . ."
"Stop this adolescent sulking and come up immediately Severus Snape. You are just lucky that I chose to make this firecall in the antechamber, not in the Great Hall. Now, unless you wish me to have to come and fetch you, I suggest that you Floo up."
"All right," Severus snapped testily, feeling his face flush slightly at such juvenile treatment. "Move out of the fire and I'll come up, its obviously impossible with you venerable head in the way."
Dumbledore frowned at him, but vanished immediately, and Severus stepped in and Flooed upstairs, not feeling at all enthusiastic at the prospect of eating all of his meals with a pair of adolescent or pre-adolescent boys, one a Gryffindor and the other quite likely to follow his example. Dumbledore looked up from the seat he had just taken at the table when Severus came in.
"Ah, Professor Snape, glad you could join us," the headmaster said, just as if he hadn't been ordered to come. "I know how important your potions work is. Please, take a seat."
Severus found himself sitting sandwiched between Harry Potter and the Headmaster, who was talking earnestly to young Evans about some incomprehensible Muggle custom. He picked at his appetizing food in a stony, disapproving silence, hoping that no one, even Dumbledore, would dare to disturb him. It was unacceptable, ordering him around as if he was still a student himself, he, easily acknowledged the best potions master in Europe, degraded to a teenage student.
"Uh Professor," Potter began, stupid boy. Severus turned to glare at him, hoping he'd get the hint. Unfortunately, being a Gryffindor, he didn't. "If you still want to do some Quidditch training, do you have a time that you'd prefer? I mean, I can do any time, except when I have lessons with Professor Dumbledore."
"Or me. "Yes Potter, your Occlumency lessons will be continuing every evening straight after dinner," he said, smirking in satisfaction as the boy winced and shuddered apprehensively. It would be perfectly all right for him, so long as he remembered to take the proper precautions with any items he'd prefer to remain private, like his Pensieve for instance. Then he thought carefully about the time that the boy would dislike the most. He had an idea - the boy was a teenager, after all. "As for Quidditch, seven o'clock every morning is acceptable to me."
"Yes sir, that's fine by me too. Its kind of you to take the time," Potter replied, not seeming at all put out.
Shut up Potter, Severus thought to himself, getting irritated by the boy's irrepressible nature. Even though he hadn't said it aloud, hadn't dared to with Dumbledore at the table and no doubt supervising him carefully, Potter must have finally got the idea, because he applied himself to his food and made no further effort at conversation.
Later that evening, after everyone else in the castle was asleep, Severus took his usual evening stroll, when he calmed down enough after the day to sleep. The students called it his patrol, no doubt because he was in no way inclined to be lenient on any student he caught breaking curfew and interrupting his own silent thoughts. It was then that he saw the two boys walking through the corridors.
Potter was wearing pyjamas that might have fitted him perfectly three years ago, but now were faded, patched and came ended just below his knees, displaying thin, scrawny legs.
"What do you think you're doing?" Severus asked icily. Mark shrank back behind his older cousin.
"Mark wanted to send a letter to his father, sir," Potter replied, not moving an inch and staring him straight in the eye, as if to prove he wasn't at all intimidated.
"Mr Potter, while you are at school, it would make perfect sense that the school rules apply, which I'm sure you would have realized if you applied even your somewhat lacking brain to the problem. That decision from the Headmaster includes the rule forbidding nighttime wanderings to students out after curfew. I will take the letter to the Owlery myself, but you will both go to bed immediately!"
"Yes sir."
Mark thrust the letter hastily into his hand and fled back towards the Gryffindor tower, Potter walking briskly after him, not hassled, not scared by the encounter. Severus looked at the letter and decided to do a typically Slytherin thing and get information from any available source. He opened the letter carefully with a delicate charm that would allow him to reseal it after he'd perused the facts.
Hey Dad,
Missing you but this place is so cool. I can tell I'm not going to get bored. Harry's great, and he's showing me everything. He started teaching me to fly today after we came back from Diagon Alley. Its great fun, a bit like riding a motorbike, so maybe I won't buy one when I'm sixteen - this could easily be better and faster. He's a really good teacher, so don't worry, and I think I'm learning loads. He suggested that I come to watch him train with Snape tomorrow, and I think I'm going to if I can get up in time. It ought to be amazing, since Professor Dumbledore told me that Harry's amazing, the youngest player on a house team in over a century!
The strangest thing happened at dinner today. Snape said something about Occlumency lessons, and Harry looked terrified. I asked him about it later, and he said that Occlumency is stopping someone reading your mind (he said looking through your memories, but it's the same thing, isn't it?) and the only way to learn is to try it. I couldn't see what was so bad about that, but Harry just said 'there are things in my head that I wouldn't wish on anyone'. Weird, huh? Do you know what he meant? I mean, he's only sixteen, I think, so he can't have done that much.
Harry's promised to work out some stuff that'll stop Dudley bullying me, but don't worry, it won't actually hurt him (much) just scare him off. Well, I've got to stop now, because else Harry says we'll get caught by Snape on the way to posting it.
See you Markarry lookedHarr
Severus re-read the letter, committing it to memory, then resealed it and posted it using a school owl. Then he thought about the words that Mark had said Potter had used. Gryffindor bravery? More like Hufflepuff stupidity if he was that scared of a simple lesson. There was nothing in an Occlumency lesson that could physically harm him, after all, and it would keep him safer in a combat situation. Potter was too Gryffindor for his own good, whatever the Sorting Hat thought - he'd no doubt feel much better if he did relax enough to talk to someone.
Severus decided that he wouldn't go to the Headmaster about this - he could just imagine the tongue-lashing he'd receive for reading the letter in the first place, not worth it for the meager information he'd collected. Still, at least he'd found something vaguely useful beside the signs that Mark was swiftly become another of Potter's lackeys.