Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K. Rowling

Hi again, guys. I am so sorry it has taken so long. A lot of stuff has been coming up lately, and it has hindered my updating this story. I'll try to do better. I haven't been getting many reviews lately.  O well. I'm hoping I can keep you all interested in this story. Truth be told, I have no idea where this is going.

I want to tell you that it may be near impossible for me to update sometimes. I'm taking an AP course, and so my time is limited lately.

So, let's just go on and get this chapter written, shall we? It may be a little short because of lack of time, but bear with me please. And please don't forget to read/review. PLEASE?!

Chapter 12: The Potions Master, Part I

Snape walked in from the hospital wing. He had been surprised to see that the Potter boy had managed to walk on his own. It was an accomplishment for anyone, he had to admit. The boy had the will to get things done when he wanted to. Snape was almost glad for him. Almost. He still could not seem to get over the feelings of hatred he had grown accustomed to over the past six years of seeing the boy. It was very easy to hate a Potter, especially the son of James Potter. Still, even though the boy resembled his father, they were quite different. Harry Potter had actually trusted Snape. James never would have trusted the man for any reason. And also, the boy seemed to lack the arrogance that Snape once thought he possessed.

As Snape thought about Harry Potter and his treatment toward him through the years, he began to feel guilty. That was quite amazing. Snape never felt guilty. Watching hundreds of muggles being tortured and killed may have made Snape feel uneasy, but he never felt guilty for playing a part in their deaths. But guilt for treatment of a boy? That was quite an amazing emotion for Snape to feel.

As Snape paced his office, waiting for a potion to finish, he spied something in the corner. It was a long peace of oak wood, finely carved with the engraving of a phoenix on it. It was a walking cane. How ironic that he should notice that now, when all other times it sat in his office as an ignored relic. A house elf had found the cane in his house, and Snape never knew where it had come from. Something had been entrancing about the cane, and he decided to keep it instead of discard it, as he normally did with worthless treasures he might find. The cane had stayed in the house for many years, ignored and collecting dust in the corner of a rarely-used room. Then, one day, as he was unpacking his things at the beginning of the new term, he saw it lying in the bottom of the bag. He could not understand how it had gotten into the bag. After all, the house elves were not allowed to touch his luggage- Snape knew they were bound to break something- and no one else was ever in his home. No one except Albus Dumbledore.

Had Snape been the type of person to talk aloud when reasoning things out, he might have said "Ah ha!" As it is, he merely said it in his mind. Albus Dumbledore. He might have known. After all, Dumbledore always had loved phoenixes. Of course, the revelation about Dumbledore may have roused some suspicions, but it did not answer all of his questions. He took the cane in his hands. The wood felt slightly warm to the touch, although it had been sitting in Snape's cold office now for nearly six years. 'Give it to the boy,' he thought. After all, he had no use for it. At that precise moment, there was a soft knock on the door. "Enter," Snape commanded.

"I came for the potion," Poppy said, standing in the doorway of the office.

Snape nodded, and retrieved it from the cauldron, placing the liquid carefully into a phial and giving it to her. "Also, Madame Pomfrey, would you kindly give this to Mr. Potter," he said, handing her the cane he had been holding. Poppy looked curious, but said nothing and left the room. 'There,' Snape thought that he had done enough good deeds to last him lifetime.

Snape had no idea what he was going to do now. After all, he had been revealed as a traitor to the Dark Lord. Everyone would be trying to track him down now. He was as bad off as that mutt, Sirius had been, trapped in a safe place for his own protection. Snape hated to think of it as being "protected." His whole life, nearly, had been spent unprotected, and he had survived on his own. He wasn't sure how he could survive now, though.

Snape sat behind the cedar desk that he spent so many late nights at, pondering his situation. In all actuality, he should have been working on some potions for the hospital wing, but there was already one that needed brewing for several more hours, so he reasoned that he could afford to take a break.

Snape's mind drifted to the boy whom he had saved. Was he really so important to the fate of the wizarding world? It seemed strange to think that one boy could affect the fate of them all. Snape found himself pitying in the boy, and the fate that must find him during the course of his life.

After a while of reflecting in his office, Snape decided to see how the boy was doing. Snape strode through the school hallways in the direction of the hospital wing. He turned a corner, and bumped into something. Looking down, he saw that it was Potter himself, sitting back now, the cane nearby. "Sorry, Professor." Snape gritted his teeth, said nothing, and reached a hand down to help the boy up. A little surprised to see an offer of help, Harry took the hand and was pulled up.

"Try to watch where you're going, Potter," his professor grumbled. "Should you be out of the hospital wing right now?"

"Umm…" Harry looked guilty.

"So I take it Madame Pomfrey doesn't know where you are." No answer. Snape grabbed the boy's arm, and led him back down to the hospital wing.

"Honestly, I don't need somebody watching me all the time. I am perfectly capable of getting around on my own."

"Still, you just gained your walking abilities again. I think it would be prudent for you to stay under Madame Pomfrey's close observation."

"Figures."

"Afterwards, the Headmaster informed me that you are to stay under my supervision for the remainder of the summer."

"Oh." Harry still wasn't sure if that would be such a good idea. True, the man had saved his life, and with great personal risk. But Harry still had this horrible feeling any time he was around the man. Harry still felt that he was sincerely disliked by the man. And Harry didn't blame him.

That's all I have time for for now. Sorry. Please don't forget to r/r. Next chapter, we see Isabella Snape, and learn more of his past life, before he became a spy! :)