Sorry, this chapter is rather poorly written. I apologize. I started it forever ago and just now decided to post it.

This story is basically a filler so I have something to update with while working on "Wolves are Not Vain." That story is entirely too complicated to write out and update frequently. I'll write it completely and post it chapter by chapter.

Also, if you have Livejournal, feel free to add me. The link is in my biography.

CHAPTER ONE

There was just too much, he couldn't handle it anymore. Every year the first years would drop their jaws in awe at the sight of THE Harry Potter and gawk like fish at his infant-branded scar. Every year there were quiet murmurs as they each noticed and poked others in the arm to point and spread the news. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the only person to stand against Voldemort and win, was standing right there in front of them. It made him sick.

He'd taken to staying only as long as he had to at the welcoming feast before slipping out as unnoticed as possible to wonder around the grounds. This year, he'd wallowed through the halls before going outside on a whim and finding a large tree to settle himself under. His unruly mess of hair was teased by the light breeze flowing about and he closed his eyes, trying to savor the warmer-than-normal autumn day, though it was dark now. His head propped itself against the trunk of the massive tree and he sat like this for an undetermined amount of time. He tried not to think about the summer or the people inside, and after a while he finally succeeded, spending the rest of the time with a pleasantly silent mind.

The faintest sound of footsteps came from his left and he realized that the sound was fairly close, but he didn't have much time to act because they stopped a few meters away from him. He didn't bother to open his eyes, deciding to wait until the person spoke. It could have been one of Voldemort's followers for all he knew, but he was too comfortable to care. He wondered who could have snuck up on him with such unworldly silence and he thought that it was perhaps a small first or second year who noticed his form leaning against the tree.

"I see you are too good for our presence, Mr. Potter." Or just the snarky potions master. He had to resist the urge to smirk. How a full grown man, who could send others whimpering away with their tale between their legs, could walk with such grace and gentleness astounded him. Very well, then. Might as well open your eyes now. He was surprised to see the man wasn't trying to bore through his skull the way he usually did when they were in class and he did something wrong. He thought since he wasn't inside enjoying the feast with the rest of them, Snape would be dying to snatch him up and drag him to the headmaster's office and demand suspension on the grounds of some marauder-like attempt. Of course, he WAS Snape, after all, and his face may not have been particularly angry tonight, but it surely wasn't ecstatic. The man outstretched his hand and, realizing it was meant to help him stand, he took it gratefully and pushed himself up and off the tree. The potions master turned and stalked back down the way in which he came and Potter followed.

They approached the castle, Snape walking at a briskly pace with Potter trailing slightly behind, trying to keep up with the man and his damned legs. He noticed they were heading for the dungeons instead of the main hall and almost slapped himself. Figures. Snape led him to a door which led to the dungeons, then through the corridors as they made their way to an unfamiliar region of the dungeons. They stopped before a portrait and the professor muttered a password before it swung open, granting them access. Stepping through the portrait and into the warm room beyond it, Harry almost fell over as a sudden realization smacked him hard in the face. These were Snape's quarters.

Later:

"So, Mr. Potter, would you like to explain why you were outside instead of in the Great Hall with all of your loyal followers?"

"No, I wouldn't, actually." Snape's eyes narrowed slightly and Harry suddenly felt the urge to laugh. However, fancying to live to see daylight again, chose not to do so.

"One does not usually leave their friends without reason." He wanted to tell the man to shut up, but he just stared. What was he supposed to do, smack the professor?

"I wanted some air." That was stupid. He briefly wondered if the professor would lose patience and throttle him.

There was a slight pause.

"Would you like some tea?" He nodded dumbly in astonishment and confusion at the rapid change of subject before muttering a 'Yes, professor' and the man walked off to another room, coming back shortly with two cups and a silver platter with a tea kettle, sugar bowl, and utensils floating magically before him. He settled the objects on the table handing a cup to Harry and spelling the tea kettle to pour their drinks before setting across from the other. Harry noted that everything looked rather fine and expensive. Once tasting the tea, he thought it must have been fine and expensive, also. He's never had tea that was this good.

Snape had long since put his cup down. He now had his hands steepled before him as he watched the other. Harry, taking notice, fidgeted under the intense gaze and tried in a very vain attempt to hide his face behind his tea cup.

"...Harry." If it were possible, Snape sounded slightly amused.

"Yes?" He answered meekly. Harry glanced quickly over at the other man. He knew he was being studied and he sighed softly.

"What are you trying to figure out?"

Snape spoke:

"I'd like to speak to you in the morning. I have a few things to attend to tomorrow, but I should be otherwise free for the rest of the day. Since you weren't in the great hall at the time of the announcement, Dumbledore announced that classes will not start until the day after tomorrow." Harry looked surprised at the statement.

"Why, sir?" He furrowed his brows in confusion.

"See me tomorrow here in my quarters. If I've not yet returned from my duties, please wait inside patiently and refrain from touching anything. The portrait will open for you." With that, he made a motion that signaled for Harry to leave, so he grudgingly obeyed, knowing that any question he might ask would be unanswered. With nowhere else to go, he headed for the Gryffindor tower.