A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed a very Happy Mother's Day! (Or simply had a very pleasant Sunday if yesterday was not Mother's Day in your country) Enjoy Chapter 13!

In the days that followed, Harry worried that he would once again hear that terrifying disembodied voice from the corridor near the library. On several occasions, he found himself glancing over his shoulder as he made his way through the castle, half-expecting someone to be following him, watching him.

But no one was ever there, and the voice did not return. And very soon, Harry began to believe that he had simply imagined the whole thing, as horrifying as that voice had been. It had simply been a product of too little sleep, he had decided, and so he did his best to put the whole incident out of his head.

As it turned out, that didn't prove to be too difficult. He had plenty of distractions to occupy his mind.

It was Tuesday morning when Harry's textbooks finally arrived at breakfast time.

And all the young wizard could do was stare in horror at the table before him, while nearly the entire school, it seemed, turned their heads and craned their necks to see what was going on.

At the arrival of the books, the sausages and eggs and plates of toast had been sent flying. And anything in the immediate vicinity that had not been disturbed, was now covered in owl feathers, or being stepped on by the birds themselves.

A quick head count told Harry that there were nine of them. Nine owls had been needed to deliver his book order. And most of them were now taking a moment to pause and clean the scrambled eggs out of their feathers before taking to the air once more.

And in the center of it all, were the packages themselves.

It was almost like walking into the Dursleys' kitchen on the morning of Dudley's birthday, Harry couldn't help but think. The parcels were piled high enough that it was impossible for him to see to the other side of the table.

"How many books did you order?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

Harry reached forward and, rather than answer Ron, tore the paper off of the first package.

Travels with Trolls: Special Edition by Gilderoy Lockhart read the first title. And underneath that one was Travels with Trolls: Bonus Edition by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and did his best to focus on breathing in and out. "Hermione," he said at last, his voice a dangerous whisper. "What exactly is the difference between the Special Editions and the Bonus Editions of Lockhart's books?"

"The special editions include an autobiographical introduction from Professor Lockhart," Hermione answered automatically. "And the bonus editions have extra commentary from the Professor on his travels and experiences."

"All he does is write commentary on his travels and experiences," Ron grumbled. "When is he going to actually teach us something useful?

Hermione threw a disapproving glare in Ron's direction, but decided not to reply.

Harry looked towards the staff table, then. Most of the teachers seemed to be staring in his direction at that moment, although only two faces stood out in the crowd. The first was Lockhart, who smiled and waved when he saw Harry looking towards him. Harry broke eye contact as quickly as possible and pretended not to have noticed.

The second face belonged to Snape. And the man's features was twisted into such an awful scowl that Harry broke eye contact with him even quicker than he had with Lockhart.

He was definitely not looking forward to attending Potions class later that afternoon.

Harry dropped the books back on the table and started rummaging around in his bag for a quill and some parchment.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, as he watched his friend clear away a space on the table and start scribbling something down as fast as he could.

Before Harry could answer, however, Hermione was speaking.

"Good morning, Professor Lockhart!"

Both Ron and Harry jumped in surprise and turned in their seats to see the Defense professor suddenly standing there behind them, flashing his award-winning smile down on the entire scene.

It made Harry sick.

"Ah, I see that your special surprise came today!" Lockhart announced.

Harry tried not to groan as he realized that everyone in the hall must be staring in his direction.

"Um..."

"I know it's a lot to take in," Lockhart continued. "You must be feeling pretty lucky right about now. I not only got you the special editions, but the bonus editions, as well! I just couldn't resist, Harry. I knew you'd love them."

"Uh..."

"I also included several books that weren't on your school list, but that I thought you would enjoy, anyway. For the ones I didn't write myself, I am at least mentioned somewhere within the pages. If you bring the books by my office, I would be more than happy to highlight those sections for you. And then I can sign your books, as well!"

"Right," Harry said reluctantly.

Lockhart just beamed wider as he looked at the large pile on the table. "Well, I'll let you get back to opening up all your packages, my boy! I'll see you later!"

And then the man was gone, heading towards the exit and out into the entrance hall.

Almost immediately, Harry returned his attention to the piece of parchment he was writing on.

"You could have at least said thank you," Hermione said disapprovingly, as she watched Harry write.

Harry jerked his head up and stared at her incredulously. "He's insane, Hermione! How can you not see that? And right now, I am writing to Flourish and Blotts to inform them that I will be returning most of these books, since I never asked for them. I can't believe they didn't contact me about this in the first place."

"They were a gift, Harry!"

"He caused my entire order to be delayed by several days!" Harry shot back. "Besides, why would he give me a gift and no one else? He doesn't even know me. Just look at all of these," he waved an arm at the pile of packages still unopened. "And they're all about him. I'm telling you Hermione, the man has a few screws loose."

Ron laughed, but Hermione just sniffed and turned back to the book she had been reading.

"Well, I thought it was a very kind gesture," she said, turning the page of her potions text. "The professor obviously wants you to do well in his class, Harry. You really could learn so much from him if you would just give him a chance."

Harry looked up from his letter again and just stared at Hermione for a long moment.

"What?" the girl demanded, crossing her arms.

"Hermione," Harry answered at last. "You are by far the smartest person my own age that I've ever known...But that has got to be the stupidest thing you have ever said."

Harry dropped down onto a stool next to Ron later that afternoon in the potions classroom.

"Do you think she'll forgive me?" he whispered to his friend, as he looked to where Hermione was sitting with Neville, closer to the front of the room.

"You just sent a mountain of free brand-new books back to the store," Ron answered. "What do you think?"

"But I let her pick out what she wanted to keep! Does she honestly think I need two copies of all of Lockhart's books? I kept what I needed and sent back the rest."

"Yeah, and used up about half of the owls in the owlery to do it," Ron replied, sounding amused.

"Quiet," a voice suddenly drawled from the front of the room.

Almost immediately then, the class fell silent and turned their attention onto the potions master.

And it only took about two seconds for the man to lock gazes with Harry.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I see that you have finally come to the realization that the summer holidays are, indeed, over, and have decided to join the rest of your peers in class."

The Slytherins barely made an attempt to stifle their laughs as Harry's face turned red in embarrassment.

"Am I correct in assuming that you are prepared for class today, Mr. Potter?"

Harry gave a quick nod, refusing to meet the man's eyes.

"A verbal response, if you please, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered automatically, his voice completely emotionless.

Snape smiled an unpleasant smile then before flicking his wand at the board. Words instantly began to appear there, and it only took a few seconds for Harry to realize that they were taking the form of several very long, complicated questions.

"Answer the questions that are written on the board on your own parchment," Snape addressed the entire class. "I will collect them in ten minutes time. For those of you who have attended all class sessions so far this year, this should be a fairly simple exercise for you. But for any others..."

Snape didn't bother to finish his statement. He simply allowed his eyes to bore into Harry's for a moment before finally looking away.

It was completely silent in the classroom then, save for the scratching of quills on parchment.

But Harry just bowed his head and stared at his desk. There was no point in even attempting to answer any of those questions. They had been designed specifically so that he would fail.

Next to him, Ron was alternating between glaring daggers at Snape and casting sympathetic glances towards his friend. Even for Snape, this was especially low.

The minutes seemed to drag by. Harry was sure that Snape must have managed to slow down time somehow. Surely ten minutes had already passed.

And then finally, Snape spoke. "Quills down, please. I will be collecting your papers momentarily. You may now open your textbooks to page 39."

Ron offered to take their potion sample up to Snape's desk at the end of class while Harry began cleaning up their station. They had been reasonably successful with the pain reliever they had been brewing for the past hour, and Harry was feeling hopeful that he would finally get a score in Potions that was above a zero.

But knowing Snape, he couldn't be too sure. The man really just seemed to hate him.

And Harry had remained especially quiet throughout the entire class period as he tried to figure out why that was.

The bell to signal the end of class came just as Harry was returning the rest of his unused ingredients to the potions store in the front of the room. By the time he made it back to his desk, most of the class had already filtered out of the room, and both Ron and Hermione were waiting for him with concerned looks on their faces.

Well, at least Hermione doesn't seem annoyed with me anymore, Harry thought as he began to pack up his belongings.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione whispered. "That was an awful thing for him to do—"

"Later," Harry whispered back. "You two go on. I'll see you in Charms."

"But what—?" Ron began, before Harry cut him off with a shake of the head.

"Later," he repeated.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks before reluctantly nodding their heads.

"Fine. See you in a few minutes?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded and watched then as his friends left the classroom with the last of their classmates, tossing worried looks over their shoulders as they went.

Harry turned to face the front of the room, his heart pounding in his chest. Snape had disappeared into the potions store for a moment, and so Harry waited, reaching into his pocket to take out his mother's picture as he did so.

When Snape emerged from the storeroom a few seconds later, a look of surprise flashed in his eyes. No doubt he had thought that Harry would be among the first students out the door, and long gone by now.

And yet there the boy stood, staring at Snape with those familiar green eyes, and clutching an old photograph to his side.

"Potter, if this is about today's quiz—" the man began menacingly.

"It's not, sir," Harry answered quickly. "I just...I mean I wanted to..."

"Out with it, boy!" Snape growled.

Harry flinched at that. It was exactly the sort of thing his uncle would say. He took a deep breath then, and held up his picture.

"What does "A Thousand Words" mean?" he asked, quietly.

It was silent for several long seconds before Snape answered.

"I was under the impression, Mr. Potter, that we had both agreed to never bring up this subject again."

"Please, sir. I just wanted to know—"

"You do not want to be late for your next class, Mr. Potter."

Harry placed the picture back in his pocket and gathered up his schoolbag. He was halfway to the door then before he turned around and, coming to a quick decision, spoke again.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said quietly.

Snape frowned, confused. "What are you talking about, Potter?" he snapped.

Harry sighed before plunging forward with a shaking voice. "I'm the reason she's dead. You cared about her. Loved her. And she died because she was protecting me. And well...that's why you hate me, isn't it, sir? Because it was all my fault?"

Severus Snape was stunned. That was the only way to describe how he felt at that moment as he looked into the eyes of the young boy standing before him.

Lily's eyes, the man couldn't help but think.

Harry bowed his head and stared at the floor as the silence dragged on and on.

But then finally, just when the boy was preparing to turn around and head for the classroom door, the professor spoke at last.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter. We have a few things to discuss."

A/N: As always, thanks for reading, everyone! I will update as soon as I can :)

-Ailee17