A/N: So here's Chapter 14! It's a shorter chapter, but it still took quite some time to write. Enjoy!

In the silence that followed Snape's words, Harry didn't immediately move back to his seat. He simply stood there, eyeing the man warily as he began to wonder what the professor could possibly have in store for him now.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," Snape repeated more forcefully.

"But I-I have to get to class," Harry answered in a near-whisper.

"You are going to be late today, Mr. Potter. Now, sit down."

Nervously, Harry very slowly began to ease his schoolbag off of his shoulder, and down onto the floor.

And then, with an equal amount of hesitancy, he lowered himself back down onto his stool and waited for Snape to make the next move.

The man folded his arms and simply watched Harry for a few seconds then, trying to make his mind up about how to proceed. He wasn't looking forward to this conversation at all.

But he knew that it had to be done.

Eventually coming to a decision, Snape grabbed the nearest stool behind him and placed it directly in front of Harry's table.

And then the potions master was sitting down, directly across from the young boy.

"Look at me, Potter," he said firmly.

Harry did so, although the anxiety was clear in his eyes.

"First and foremost, Mr. Potter," Snape spoke slowly and clearly once he was sure that he had Harry's attention, "you are not responsible for the deaths of either one of your parents."

Harry couldn't help it then. He had to look away. Thinking about the night his parents died was not something he liked to do very often, and he certainly never talked about it with anyone.

Especially not with greasy dungeon bats who seemed to hate him more than anything else in the world.

Snape paused for a moment and watched as Harry fidgeted uncomfortably on his stool.

"I have never blamed you, Mr. Potter," he eventually continued, "but it would appear as though you blame yourself."

Harry's eyes snapped back to the professor's.

"I don't—" he started to protest.

"Do not lie to me, Potter!" Snape hissed, leaning closer to Harry across the table. "That is exactly what you just stated."

Harry frowned as he thought back on what he had said to Snape. He supposed that he had implied that he believed it was all his fault; though he really hadn't meant to.

And yet, he couldn't deny that he felt somewhat guilty that he had survived that night when both of his parents had not.

He shook his head, then. He wasn't going to think about that now.

"So you don't think it was my fault?" he asked in a small voice.

"No, Potter. I know it was not your fault."

It was silent for another moment or so as Harry considered this information. Then, finally, he spoke again.

"Then why do you hate me?"

Snape glared at the young boy. "I do not hate you, Potter."

Liar, Harry thought to himself.

"I simply find you to be an insufferable, arrogant, insolent child who struts around this castle like you own the place."

"I do not!" Harry said angrily, his stool scraping back across the floor as he got to his feet.

Snape also stood, ensuring that he continued to tower over the young boy. "Excuse me?" he hissed.

"I don't strut," Harry replied, though in a far softer tone. "And I'm not arrogant or insolent."

"Oh, I beg to differ. You are the spitting image of your fath—"

"So you hate me because you hated my father," Harry interrupted.

"Potter—" Snape said in a warning tone.

"And my mother? Am I not like her at all?" Harry asked, staring up at his professor.

Once again, surprise crossed the features of the potions master, and it took him a few seconds to recover.

"We are straying quite far from the point of this discussion, Mr. Potter."

And then Harry was suddenly pleading, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could push them back down.

"Can you please just tell me about her? Anything at all? You knew her better than almost anybody else, right?"

"Sit down, Potter," the professor suddenly growled.

Harry obeyed, but didn't stop looking up at the potions master with an almost hopeful expression.

Snape scowled at the child before speaking again.

"I have many things to do today, Mr. Potter. I do not have the time to sit around all afternoon listening to your inane chattering and endless questions. So I suggest we get back to the point."

"Fine," Harry answered, suddenly irritated. "Voldemort killed my parents. It wasn't my fault. I know. I know."

"Do not say his name!" Snape snapped. "And ten points from Gryffindor for your attitude and cheek, Potter."

Harry crossed his arms. "Can I go now, sir?"

"That will be another ten points, and if your demeanor does not improve in the next few seconds, you will have detention every evening for the remainder of the month."

Harry immediately uncrossed his arms and looked down at the table.

Snape sighed then. This conversation was not going at all like he had wanted it to. He was surprised at himself for even attempting to carry on a discussion with the spawn of James Potter, his childhood tormentor and enemy.

He is also Lily's child, that annoying little voice in the back of his head put in.

"You may go, Mr. Potter," Snape said at last, coming to a decision.

I will just have Minerva talk to him about his survivor's guilt, he added silently to himself.

Harry sighed as he got to his feet and retrieved his schoolbag from the floor. But right before he turned to leave, he thought he might try asking one last question.

"What was the name of her dog?" he asked, his eyes finding Snape's.

"Excuse me?"

Harry dug the picture out of his pocket again and held it up. "The dog in the picture," he clarified. "It was hers, wasn't it? What was its name?"

"It was a stray. It didn't have a name," Snape answered dismissively.

"Oh," Harry said, replacing the picture in his pocket as he moved towards the door.

Snape watched the boy cross the classroom, his mouth set in a firm line.

But just as Harry reached the door, the potions master spoke again.

"Daisy."

"Sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"The stray," Snape clarified, rolling his eyes. "Your mother started calling it 'Daisy' when it came around more often."

Harry nodded, a smile suddenly spreading across his face. "Thank you, sir."

And then the boy was gone, racing out of the classroom and down the dungeon corridor.

And all Severus could think in that moment was that the child had smiled exactly the same way as Lily used to.

Harry climbed the final set of stairs up to the owlery later that afternoon, a bag of owl treats clutched securely against his side.

"Hey, Hedwig!" Harry greeted pleasantly, as his snowy owl broke free from the crowd of other birds and landed lightly on the perch in front of her owner. "Are you hungry, girl?"

Hedwig gave a soft hoot in reply, and Harry pulled a handful of treats from the bag.

"It was a good day, today," Harry told the owl, as he placed the treats in the small food dish attached to the perch. "Well,mostly. There was that fiasco at breakfast with all of Lockhart's packages. And Snape did take all those points, again. But I'm starting to think that maybe he isn't so bad."

At that, Hedwig raised her head and stared at Harry in what could only be described as disbelief.

"Snape, not Lockhart," Harry clarified quickly.

Hedwig just continued to stare.

"Well, he did say that he doesn't hate me," Harry defended himself to the bird. "He definitely still doesn't like me, but I guess that's just because he didn't get along with my dad."

Hedwig tilted her head, as if asking a question.

"He told me it wasn't my fault," his voice had dropped to almost a whisper. "What happened to my parents. No one's ever told me that before. Certainly not Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon. They thought everything was my fault. And I always believed them."

Hedwig hooted softly again and Harry reached out to stroke her feathers.

But then suddenly, there was a commotion behind Harry, and he quickly whirled around to see what it was.

It sounded as though there were several people storming up the staircase to the owlery, and the birds closest to the entrance launched themselves into the air to take refuge in the rafters.

Only a few seconds later, a group of students appeared at the top of the stairs.

And suddenly, Harry was rethinking his decision to call today a good day.

Because there was Malfoy, standing at the owlery entrance with his small group of friends right behind him. Crabbe, Goyle, and even Pansy Parkinson had joined the young Slytherin today.

"Do you ever go anywhere alone?" Harry couldn't help but to blurt out, before anyone else had a chance to speak.

"Mind your own business, Scarhead," Malfoy spat, not at all pleased to see Harry there.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I was just leaving," he said, turning to give an apologetic look to his owl.

The gaze Hedwig gave him in return was one of understanding, and she reached forward to nip affectionately at the fingers that had been stroking her just a moment ago.

"I'll have more treats tomorrow at breakfast, if you want to stop by," he said quietly.

The owl made a quiet noise in reply, and Harry smiled at her before turning away.

And then he did his very best to ignore the Slytherins completely as he passed by them, heading for the staircase.

Just as Harry reached the steps, however, another figure appeared in the entrance. It was another student. A Hufflepuff. And he appeared to be a few years older than everyone else in the owlery. Likely a fifth year, Harry would guess.

The newcomer glanced around, his eyes almost immediately settling on Harry's forehead.

Harry made an unconscious effort to flatten his bangs over his scar as he turned to leave the owlery.

But then the Hufflepuff boy spoke.

Only he wasn't speaking to Harry.

"Hey, aren't you that Slytherin who got a detention from Snape?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see a very red-faced Malfoy glaring at the older student.

"No!" he declared angrily.

"Oh, sorry," the boy shrugged, before moving off in search of one of the school owls.

And then suddenly, there were four Slytherins scowling at Harry, the promise of murder in their eyes.

Harry did his best to suppress a smirk, then, as he hurried down the stairs and away from the owlery.

Yes, he eventually decided, when he was halfway to Gryffindor tower. Today really was a good day.

A/N: So up next is a very important chapter for Harry and Snape. I won't give anything away, but remember in Sorcerer's (Philosopher's) Stone when it wasn't until the trio fought a fully grown mountain troll together that they all ended up as friends?

Well, there won't be any trolls, but something is about to happen. Any thoughts on what you think that might be? As always, thanks for reading!

-Ailee17