Thank you to the beta of this chapter- Born-of-Elven-Blood

Chapter Eighteen- The Talk

Severus and Harry sat in a secluded booth at the back of the Three Broomsticks. Thankfully for Harry the restaurant wasn't crowded, just a few regulars and an old wizard sleeping off one too many firewhiskeys in the corner. Soft music drifted from a charmed radio behind the bar tuned to the WWN. The dulcet tones of Celestina Warbek seemed to calm Harry to a degree.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Harry was brought out of his thoughts by the professor's question. "I don't know." He gave a small shrug. "I don't even know what I was looking for."

Snape opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it as the waitress arrived with their dinner, two generous portions of shepherd's pie with mushy peas and cauliflower cheese.

"Can I get you two anything else?" she asked cheerfully as she set the plates down along with the two mugs of butterbeer. Harry could tell his professor wasn't a fan of her perky demeanor.

"No, that will be all," Snape said dismissively, turning pointedly back to Harry until she gave up and walked off.

Harry stared bitterly at the meal in front of him, then scrunched his nose up and pushed his plate away, wondering why had Snape even bothered to order it.

"What's wrong with the food?"

"You know I can't..." Harry glared sullenly down at the table.

"You had no problems this morning."

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"The oatmeal and fruit, not to mention the potion you took without a second thought," Snape explained.

"... I… I wasn't thinking..." Harry muttered evasively, reflecting back on the earlier meal. He wasn't ready to admit that he was actually beginning to trust his Potions professor.

Snape had vaguely hoped that an array of comfort foods might tempt the boy to cast caution to the wind a second time, but decided to let the subject drop. It wasn't the reason he brought him here today.

"I wanted to talk to you about your lying," he started off.

"What! I haven't been lying!" Harry exclaimed, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic and suddenly worried that this would be a conversation worthy of Umbridge.

"Letting people believe you want to become an Auror, or that you like playing quidditch? Those sounds like lies to me," Snape retorted.

"...not lies… fibs..." Harry muttered, avoiding his eyes.

"What's the difference?"

Harry gave a small shrug, not knowing the answer. "It's just easier to let people believe what they want."

"It's not healthy to live a double life." The boy glanced sharply up at the man across from him. He knew Snape spoke from experience. "If you keep it up you are not going to be happy with where you end up."

Harry looked away, but stayed quiet and listened, considering what his professor was saying more seriously than he ever would have just days ago.

"Were you aware that Madame Pomfrey offers an apprenticeship to young wizards intent on entering the field of mediwizardry?"

He blinked in surprise and shook his head. He'd never thought of the matron in the capacity of a teacher before.

"It is a rather selective opportunity," Snape continued. "Her student works in the hospital wing a few times a week, assisting her in her duties and learning all that becoming an Healer entails. I happen to know that the apprenticeship has remained open this year. If you like, I can talk to her about giving it to you," he offered.

"Really?" Harry asked, shocked.

Snape gave a small nod. "It won't be easy, but with your skill set I believe you would do fine."

Harry paused for a moment, pretty sure that his professor had just paid him a compliment. He had to resist the urge to pinch himself.

"I… yes… yes, I would love to do that!" Harry said, growing excited.

"I will have a word with her then. I also wanted to talk to you about quidditch. I'm not going to make you quit, but I do want you to think about it. If you don't like playing then there is no sense in doing so."

Harry subsided and gave a small nod in understanding, watching forlornly as the professor ate. The food smelled amazing, but turned his stomach at the same time. Would anything ever be simple again?

"Sir… Lockhart… why... why is it me?" Harry asked, uncertain he'd asked the question right until Snape glanced up at him and sighed.

"We can't be sure that it was just you, Harry. Considering Lockhart's skill with the Memory Charm, he could have done it to other students as well. They just can't remember."

Lucky, Harry thought to himself. He would do anything to go back to not remembering what that man had done to him.

"One… one time he said…" he admitted haltingly, "...he said that I teased him… I… I don't think… I..."

"Harry I want you to listen to me right this instant." Snape spoke harshly, cutting him off, but for once Harry didn't think the professor's quick anger was directed at him. "You did no such thing! He is an adult and you were a child. What he did should have never have happened. It wasn't your fault. You had nothing to do with it. Do you understand me?"

"...yes sir," Harry said softly, looking away.

Snape could tell the boy didn't believe him, but this wasn't the place to get into it.

"Are you going to eat your food?" he asked instead after a few minutes of silence.

Harry shook his head, giving Snape an apologetic look.

Snape let out a small sigh and called for the check. He might as well take the child home. He could tell from his body language that he hadn't been comfortable being here from the moment they sat down.

"Thank you," Harry murmured as the waitress came over to settle up, wondering if Snape knew just how many things he was really thanking him for. Harry himself had lost count.