Chapter Four

"Predictable. Sadly Predictable."

The snowy owl flew into Snape's breakfast before he was fully awake; her landing provoked bits of sausage and egg to land on his face and in his hair. He blinked stupidly and wished fervently for a cup of good, strong tea.

Across the table, Potter was smirking. It was the sort of insufferable expression that had made teaching him for the last five years unbearable, just bordering on smug. Snape casually began to pick the food remnants from his person and sent a particularly scathing glare in the direction of the mildly hooting owl.

"Hedwig," Potter acknowledged the creature gently. "You have mail for me, girl?"

She thrust a letter-attached leg in his direction and preened as, after he'd detached the parchment, he proceeded to pet her gently and feed her bits of his breakfast. She nipped affectionately at his ear and then gracefully spread her wings and took to air, spiraling upwards and swerving once again outside. Snape looked at Potter's letter with vague interest – he recognized the crest. It was an official Ministry letter. "What's that, Potter?" he asked caustically. "Another expulsion letter for under aged illegal use of magic?" He credited himself for injecting into the statement just enough sneer to make Potter look defensive.

"Not at all. Sir. Professor Dumbledore made sure that I could practice under-age magic. Sir. He said I might need it to protect myself. Sir. I've been… practicing all summer. Sir." Potter insolently held Snape's gaze as he spoke, and then dropped it to inspect the letter more carefully. He opened it slowly; despite himself, Snape began to feel intrigued. One down side to being a Head of House, he mused, was getting to be such a nosy busy-body. It had happened to all of them – McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick. They had to know everything to do with their students. Before he'd been on the other end of things, Snape had thought that the Professors were pervy voyeurs; now he knew that it was just over-whelming boredom that drove their actions.

"Well, what is it!"

Potter ignored him, eyes scanning the parchment, lips moving slightly as he read.

"Potter!"

He finally looked up. There was an odd expression on his face, as if he were pushing down an absurdly strong emotion. He wasn't skilled enough at it to prevent Snape from knowing that he was trying to hide something, but he was good enough that Snape had no clue what that thing was. "My Owl results. Sir. They've just come in. Sir." With clever hands, Potter quickly refolded the parchment and tucked it into his robes. "If you'll excuse me Professor, I have to write a few letters."

Snape picked the last bit of egg off the edge of his nose. He nodded curtly, knowing Potter didn't need his permission to leave, but enjoying the illusion nonetheless.

After he'd finished eating what was uncontaminated of his breakfast, Snape stalked into the library. It hadn't been safe to enter the last time he'd been in this god-forsaken place, but he'd been assured that it was no longer troubled with meddlesome pests. It would be… interesting… to browse through the collection of what was once the most notoriously Dark family in all the wizarding world.

Surprisingly, Potter was also there.

He had taken up residence in the far corner of the room, where a desk had been set up; he leaned intently over his piece of parchment, seriousness making him younger instead of older in appearance. It would have been a remarkably endearing sight, that of Potter with his wild black hair falling in tangles around his still slightly round face, green eyes serious and lower lip firmly bitten in concentration – would have been, had the observer not been Snape. As it was, the wizard merely glared at the boy and headed for the opposite direction, quickly finding an intriguing book and becoming engrossed in the acquisition of knowledge.

He was distracted when Potter stomped past him like a young elephant, disgruntlement the primary expression on his features. He was muttering under his breath, "…arg, what a stupid time to run out of ink…"

Snape cast a narrow-eyed look at Potter's retreating form, then one towards the abandoned desk which bore the parchment laying out for all to see. He tapped himself contemplatively on the lips in thought, shook his head, and turned his attention back to the book. He managed to read five lines before realizing he didn't remember what they were about. He looked up again, to Potter's letter-in-progress… most likely to one of his cronies, bragging about his undoubted excellent grades. Snape snorted quietly in disgust. As if the adjudicators would have given Harry bloody Potter anything less than perfect, no matter the subject, no matter his incompetence. Still, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the letter.

You're a Potions Master, he told himself sternly. Self-control is your discipline.

A sneaky inner voice piped up. It sounded, strangely enough, like Potter. "But we've also established that you, like the other Professors, are a pervy voyeur. So… why not?"

Why not?

Well. Well, now, that was actually a very good question. Snape thought hard about it, considering the ethics of the situation – the boy had left the letter out in plain sight, when he knew Snape was in the room. He hadn't specifically asked Snape not to read it. He hadn't rolled it up and put it out view (the more logical voice in Snape's head pointed out that to do so would smear the drying ink and render the letter illegible. He ignored it) or in any other way tried to conceal it. It was practically an invitation. And, really, when had any Snape ever been concerned with ethics?

Moving with the quick grace that so cowed First Years when they saw him swooping like a great black bat down the halls, Snape walked to the desk. Indeed, as Snape had suspected, the letter was to Hermione Granger, one of the most regrettably brilliant young witches Snape had ever taught. She was an annoyance to have in class, more for the fact that Snape knew she'd get herself killed following Potter Jr. than for any academic reason. It was such an utter waste to see someone so gifted, to teach someone so bright, and know – with a bone deep certainty – that he would never see her accomplish anything other than dying heroically in service of Dumbledore's oh-so vaunted 'Light'.

Snape scanned the letter quickly, lip curled in subconscious disgust as he took in Potter's careless, messy scrawl. Honestly, the brat put in no effort whatsoever in everything he did. As he read on, his disgust became more pronounced and his shock was evidenced by the raised eyebrow that was climbing up his forehead by the second.

'Dear Hermione,

Look, you've got to help me. I know you're McGonagall's favourite, so I figure that if you ask she'll more likely say yes. Could you get her to somehow arrange re-testing on the Owls? I didn't do nearly so well as I should have… well, I guess you could say I didn't do so well. At all. I mean, I got an O on DADA – that's something, right? But everything else… well, I was lucky to get an A in Charms and Care of Magical Creatures. And they're the only ones I did get A's in.

I don't know what happened. I mean, I don't do that badly in classes. Most of the teachers have stopped having to give me additional tutorials by now, though McGonagall still has to go over a few lessons after class for me still. But I've been doing better in Charms, so I don't know why I couldn't scrape an EE… I mean, you'd think with all the hexes and spells I've had to learn, I'd be getting better grades.

You know what I want to do when we graduate. You've got to help me. Please, if we've ever been friends"

… and that was where the letter stopped.

If Potter was shocked when Snape stalked past him on his way back into the library, Snape didn't bother to look down and check. If he had, he'd have been all-too tempted to strangle the wretched little brat.

He was in a towering fury – well, a fury tempered by deep despair. This – this pathetic, idiotic, useless boy was supposed to save them? The simpleton couldn't even manage decent test scores, let alone save the world! And then to go whining about it…! They'd never make it past Christmas!

Behind him, Harry walked calmly – serenely, even – to the waiting letter. He stood over it contemplatively with a bottle of ink in his hand. He quietly cast a simple charm to tell him whether or not his items had been disturbed, one that any boy who lived in a dorm for roughly ten months out of the year with four other boys would learn in the first week if only to keep hisprivacy. He smiled in grim satisfaction when the spell told him that yes, the letter had been read.

"You really are too predictable," he murmured with empty eyes to an empty room. "Sir." With a casual flick of the wand, he Incendio'd the letter. As it smoldered to ash, he sat down and took out a new piece of parchment. With a steady hand, he began to pen, "Dear Hermione, you'll never believe how I did on my Owls – I guess all your tutoring paid off after all…"

Hi everyone! I just finished my last exam today, so I'm feeling rather unburdened. It was nice to come home and work on this latest chapter too - let me know what you think about Harry's latest machinations against Snape, please! I promise that there's a point to all this Snape-baiting that Harry's engaging in; it'll just take a while to come to light. I think that this story will end up being at least ten chapter long, but it won't delve into time at Hogwarts; it's strictly a No. 12 Grimmauld type 'fic. I might write a sequel (I've actually got a few ideas planned out already), but that depends on how much time I have available. Anyways, thanks SO much to all the reviewers and readers - knowing my work is being read is enough to make me smile.

blackshift - Thank you for the Snape IC comment! I try really hard to make him that way. And I know that Harry's not really IC right now, but it'll all make sense by the second-to-last chapter, I swear. I'm glad that you find the story funny - humour's a hard medium to master, and all I can do is try. Thank you for reading the attempt!

Cressida Aliora - I hope this is fast enough for you. And no, I'm not on vacation right now - I'm just lacking homework. I hope that you're enjoying your break! Read a lot of fanfic! (... it's what I do...)

Clodia - Yay! I have my first rabid fan! Now, you must go and bite others and infect them so that they, too, will adore the Memoria. Hm, as one of the co-founders of "The Official Snape Torture/Baiting Society for the Happy/Evil/Happy", must I still pay membership fees? And yes, Remus is rather... lickable... heh. Thanks so much for saying Harry's retained his Harryosity! I've tried to keep him slightly the same... and it is way more fun to make him crazy than grouchy!

mb - You know, mb, it has occurred to me that for two people that have never met, we have a very physical relationship. Oh well! hug Thanks so much for your thoughtful comments - I hadn't even considered the contrast of Harry's Slytherin and Gryffindor natures each popping up in successive sections. Heh. I must be more talented than I thought! (Oh, and modest. Modest too.) I hope you like this chapter.

Howl - So glad you liked that line! It was one of my favourites as well. Hm, you make muchly with the literary references; very cool! I'm not sure that I'd say Harry's going Jekyll and Hyde on Dumbledore... I'd say more like harmlessly manipulative. He's really not that malicious. You'll see what I mean later on. Thanks for recommending me to your friend! I hope she enjoys the story as well. And I hope to keep up the constant updates, but can make no concrete promises. Thank you anyway for your support!

djdeb - Hm, well, Snape already knows that Something Is Not Right. If he actually realises what really is wrong, I'll be surprised, but my plans don't have him acting on his realisations until near the end of the story. I'm glad you think it's funny! I've tried really hard for that effect. And don't worry, I have full intentions of completing this story!

Cap'n Dru Shaddix - I'm glad! Thank you!