Disclaimer- The characters and settings belong solely to J.K. Rowling.

Ebony Scales: On to the third chapter. I am going through these as fast as I can in order to try to get them up to my standards.

Barbed Roses

Chapter 3: Not Quite Eye to Eye

Harry was once again stewing in his cupboard. However, this time, it was with a slightly less defeatist attitude.

The gnawing hunger of his stomach and the soreness of his limbs had just about pushed him to the edges of his tolerance. Fear flooded his system, nearly as bad as it had been in the Chamber of Secrets or the Hall of Prophecy; as if his life was once more in danger. It felt to him as if he was in constant fight-or-flight mode. In a way, it helped keep him from wallowing in his self-pity. The thought of Sirius still stung him, but he wasn't dwelling on it constantly. He didn't have the time, nor the mental energy to do so, although the adrenaline from his flight response to the danger it seemed he was constantly in was allowing him to respond to things better, even though it might not always help keep him safe.

Case-in-point, he had just been slapped around again by his uncle for daring to dodge earlier. Still, the 'punishment' wasn't as bad as it would have been if the man had gone out drinking first, again.

His resentment for the situation flared as he sat, curled into an uncomfortable position on the sad little cot. He knew he'd get out again soon, since the family would still want him to do some work around the place, like his only worth lay in his ability to clean. Like a House Elf. He was starting to hate the Dursleys for making him feel like this. To make him feel so hopeless at times; to force him to see how pathetically he could act. He almost wished that he could one day make them pay.

He probably never could, though. He wasn't generally known for being into that kind of thing.

…

Severus cursed the Headmaster fluently as he made his way up to the old coot's office. He had been enjoying his morning and starting on Lupin's potion with a cup of coffee in his hand. But such peace never lasted long, when working with Dumbledore. There was always something he was called off for, whether it would be to the Dark Lord's side, or running off to do demeaning tasks for his other master and the Order.

It was still relatively early in the morning, and he had already been called to the Headmaster for what would probably be another ridiculous mission that never quite seemed to bear fruit. His frustration with the lack of progress in the war effort was getting to him. As Severus reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office, he quickly growled out this week's password of "Skittles". He had never understood the old man's fixation with sweets, but it aggravated the highly irritable potions master to no end. Severus could almost swear the man did it on purpose to either irritate them or to seem more eccentric.

He strode up the steps and, at reaching the door to Albus' office, walked in without bothering to knock.

"Good morning, Severus," the Headmaster greeted jovially, happily ignoring the abrupt entrance and stiff, irritable movements of his Potions Master.

"Spare me the idle chit-chat, Albus. What do you want?" Severus returned with a glare.

"Right to the point, I see," Albus replied, either oblivious to or ignoring the glare directed at him. Dumbledore looked down and shuffled through some of the papers, placing them neatly into piles to the side of his desk. After finishing this small task, he turned his gaze back to the professor in front of him, his expression dropping.

"Severus, you have done much for the Order. You have often provided us with invaluable information, risking yourself to gather it."

At this, the Potions Master raised an eyebrow, vaguely wondering what the insane old wizard was getting at. It was obvious that he was going to be asked to take care of some task or other. Whether it was dangerous or simply irritatingly time-consuming was yet to be seen. You could never tell with the Headmaster. The Headmaster continued.

"I'm sorry, but it seems I must ask you to take on another task on behalf of myself."

The guarded man looked sharply at Albus. He knew that tone of voice. Whatever came out next, it would not be something he would agree with, he was sure.

"What is it, Albus?" Severus asked warningly. The older wizard ignored his question in favor of calming the riled man, even before he received the undesirable news.

"It is simple, really. Not much time will be taken from your other duties, and little effort will be needed. Just pop in, pop out, and report on anything you find. Nothing difficult. We simply need-."

"Albus!" Severus interrupted. He didn't wish to listen to the old man ramble on about the vague requirements of an as of yet unknown task. He wanted to know what the Headmaster was trying to trap him into doing.

"Tea, Severus?" Albus asked, "Perhaps some biscuits?" Severus clenched his jaw, willing away his frustration. The Headmaster had to be dragging this out for his own amusement, Severus was sure. No one else would throw out a non-sequitur while assigning a task.

"Headmaster, what is it you need me to do?" he calmly asked. Occlumency helped immensely. Dumbledore sighed, the twinkle of amusement in his eyes dimming just a bit, and replied in the same manner.

"Severus, I need you to visit the house of Number Four, Private Drive, to check up on Harry Potter." Severus could not believe this, and made it known.

"There is no way I am going to be forced into this demeaning task," he firmly replied. Albus just gazed calmly back at him.

…

Hours later found an irritated Potions Master angrily striding down the halls of the relatively empty school, heading towards the safety and calm of his dungeons.

'Damn that man!' he silently cursed. He had a day, okay, perhaps half of a day. Half a day until he had to check on that spoiled little, impudent brat who was just as bad as his father, regardless of the fact that he had never met, let alone been raised by the man. He was not looking forward to what was surely going to end up as a confrontation.

Snape stormed back down to his dungeons, his robes billowing menacingly behind him in the way that he was known for by all of the students. If that unbearable child were just moping around to garner attention, then attention he would get, albeit the wrong kind of attention he was looking for.

Entering his rooms, the Potions Master started preparing for his expedition to Private Drive for the next day. Almost gleefully, he placed ingredients and vials back on the shelves and in the cupboards as he considered the opportunity that was in front of him. He would gladly give the boy a tongue-lashing for this game of his and hopefully teach the child to behave better, or at the very least stop being so melodramatic. He finished dumping the ruined potion out and cleaned the cauldron in order to start again. Suddenly, tomorrow did not look so depressing. Severus went to bed early that night.

The next day, Severus awoke at just five in the morning. He got ready for the day fairly quickly, and casually started on his breakfast, his eyes narrowed and already gearing up for a verbal fight. Finishing off his plate, he checked the time again. Only six o'clock. There was still time enough to make it over to the correct house at a leisurely pace. For once, he was looking forward to seeing the boy. He needed something to take out his frustration on. Spying was a rather arduous craft; the chance of being caught weighed on his mentality on a daily basis. The chance to vent had presented itself, and he was going to take it gladly.

An hour later, Severus was stalking down the street to Private Drive. Evilly smirking inside, the Potions Master approached the door to Number Four. He paused, glancing at the perfectly normal house.

'Disgusting,' he thought. There were two small gardens out front with useless plants littering the ground, annoyingly loud wind chimes hung everywhere, and ridiculous porch ornaments depicting 'cute' scenes of summer sat near the door. The lawn was perfectly cut, with perfectly trimmed bushes brushing up against a perfectly painted white fence. Snape could almost imagine the perfect little family inside their perfect little living room spoiling the brats to no end. The mere thought disgusted him.

This house looked just like every other house on the street, a monotonous view that could nearly strain the eyes and bore the mind within moments.

Irritated, Snape scowled as he finished surveying the house. He paused a moment before his hand reached the door to knock in order to listen. He heard a man's voice yelling from somewhere inside the house. The voice rumbled through the house, reaching his ears with ease.

"Boy! Get over here! Pick this up!" it roared. Severus felt his scowl deepen at the mess that the child had likely made and raised his hand in order to knock loudly enough to announce his presence. His annoyance rose as no one came to answer the door within a few moments. He repeated the action, this time getting a response.

A heavyset man appeared in the doorway, face flushed to an unflattering shade and breathing heavily. His eyes were beady and deeply set in his rounded face. The man's mustache quivered from its place over his mouth.

'Repulsive,' was the thought that came to Snape's mind. Keeping on his mask of indifference, he got directly to the point in hopes of having to deal with this man as little as possible.

"I am a professor at the school your nephew attends. I am here to check on Mr. Potter," he stated, slightly amused at the sight of the man's rapidly paling face. It was almost surprising that the man's ridiculously red face could change color so drastically and so quickly. Severus' amusement was quickly cut off as the door was slammed in Severus' face, an action that did not help his already poor mood. In short, the Potions Master was bordering on royally pissed, and he still had to deal with the boy.

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Ebony Scales: Okay, since I forgot to do this earlier, I would like to thank my first two reviewers, Merlynne and Hamberes.

For you others who are reading, please review. Helpful criticism is welcome. I will try to update again soon, but I can make no promises. I have been rather busy lately, and can't always find the time to type this story up.

Din Dawning: Yo! What's up y'all! I'm Ebony Scales best friend who sits there & watches her type (With Agony!), 'cause it takes her forever. But I just sit there, throwing candy at her. Anywayz… no offense to y'all, but I'm not a big Harry Potter fan. For all I care it could die. (Don't hurt me) cowers. It's ok. Not bad. But hey, y'all will see me every so often & I'll come bringing interesting stories. Oooooo Awwww! Ok. I'm done now so byes! PS: LEAVE A DAMN RESPONSE WILL YA! Ok bye! Ebony's hurting me so I think y'all should leave that response & tell her to stop. & maybe something about the story. .. but you don't have to. But you do! Not much sense huh… ok I'm leaving for real now. Enjoy the rest of the story. See ya later! Byes. PPS: my grammar sucks. Maybe not now cause she's fixing it. (E.S.: At least what she'll let me fix!) (D.D. hi again! I hate her)

Ebony Scales: Sorry about that. She got a hold of my keyboard. Now she won't let me delete it. (D.D. Oh Darn those damned fudge monkeys)

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Edit (1/21/15) – Just some small additions, wording changes, and the like. I decided to leave my previous author notes simply because of the memories.