Chapter 2: Acceptance
"Sit down, Mr Potter," said Snape when Harry entered his office for his first mentoring session.
Potter grimaced at the hard looking chair. Snape picked up a cushion from another chair and threw it into the chair. "Sit!"
Harry sat down gingerly. He wouldn't say his bum hurt, but he'd rather not have to sit on it today. Tomorrow he'd be fine. He'd managed to avoid too many awkward questions, mainly because Ron was ignoring him and Hermione was trying to keep the peace between the two of them.
"We're going to start with some ground rules Potter," said Snape. He didn't use his usual classroom snide tone, but it certainly didn't bode well for the rest of the year if mentoring was this cold, thought Harry. "You will treat me with respect at all times. I am not some fluffy counsellor you can get away with yelling at."
Harry bit his lip. The concept of a fluffy Snape… he hoped he could get a grip before Snape noticed the attempt to not laugh. Laughing would so be the most inappropriate thing right now. Too late.
"For some reason that sentence has the same effect on first years too, Mr Potter. Do try to get a grip. I expect a bit more maturity than that."
Harry looked down and then back up again, the nervous giggle reflex had passed.
"You will address me as Professor or Sir. I have noticed you find doing that difficult. Given your outburst this morning, you know how I deal with disrespect. Curb yours or I'll curb it for you."
Harry remained silent. There was no point in him being here. But at the same time, there was no point antagonising the man. And to be fair, the bat hadn't actually directly insulted him since the start of his speech. That must be a record. Just sit quietly, listen, then go away again. Don't engage, just wait for it to go away. It wasn't scrubbing cauldrons, and it certainly wasn't this morning, just keep calm and get out as soon as possible.
That was the mantra he had decided on after classes today. He hadn't had Potions, thankfully, but after class, back in the common room, Hermione had asked where he'd been at breakfast. He'd lied and said that he'd run down the Gryffindor tower staircase, crashed into Snape, been given a dressing down there and then and assigned detention this evening. Hermione commiserated, and told him to keep his temper and just wait it out. It was only one evening. That was in fact a sensible transferable plan to all these sessions, Harry had thought.
"Are you listening to me, Potter?" snapped Snape.
"Yes… sir," added Harry belatedly trying to catch up on what Snape had been saying… academic achievement, behaviour… the usual.
"Potter, I am not doing this for the good of my health. It is, in fact, for the good of yours. I would rather Professor McGonagall did this with you, but it appears I have the privilege, now pay attention."
Mentoring with Snape. Totally pointless. He hates me, he's snide and he's cruel. He either thinks I'm an idiot or knows I'm not and he's just being a bullying tosser. Calm. Chill. Just nod and get out of the room.
"Mr Potter, I don't think you're taking this seriously. I'm sure you're thinking you can sit there, keep quiet, nod, wait for an hour and go away again. That is not how mentoring with me works. I mentor a number of students in each year of my house. All the first years and a selection of others as needs be. I am explaining this to you so that you are aware that you are not being treated any differently than I treat them."
Harry waited indifferently for Snape to finish. It was a different lecture than usual, Harry would grant him that. But he knew it wasn't that Snape didn't give a shit about him. The opposite in fact. Snape actively disliked him.
"Mr Potter, I have been given a directive from the Headmaster, a very explicit one. I plan on following it. You are getting mentoring sessions. I said this morning that I would draw a line under previous transgressions, or at least keep them separate to this. I meant it. This is not a Potions class. I would be surprised if you or even Longbottom could find a way to blow yourselves up in here. I don't need to examine your every movement and word. I do not need to be as rigid about your safety in here. I think that is something you do not appreciate."
Whatever, thought Harry.
"I'm not going to ask how you feel about anything, Merlin forbid, but I will want to know facts, and your reasoning behind decisions you make. I can and will make suggestions, or give more strongly worded advice about things you have done or should do."
"Given this morning, I want to make it clear. A ruler has no part in a mentoring session. If you do something egregious outside these sessions, you'll get a separate non-declinable invitation to be here. The Headmaster knows how I mentor and knows it works for my house. Do you have anything to say or ask right now?"
Harry didn't. He wanted out. He wanted all of these sessions to be gone. He wanted out of the Triwizard. He wanted away from Snape. He wanted to be alone for a bit.
"No, sir."
"I have given you a lot to think about. I'm sure that includes why I haven't called you a dunderhead even once. Today's session is over. Think about anything you want to know before the next one. I will see you again on Wednesday at 7pm. Good evening, Mr Potter."
Harry nodded, "Yes, sir," he said dully. Harry got up and left Snape's office.
"You know Ron's just jealous, Harry. He'll get over it. Give him a bit of time," said Hermione.
"He's not the one who's been entered into this lunacy!" snapped Harry, "To use one of his words, he's being a total tosspot."
"And I'm getting tired of listening to this from the pair of you," snapped Hermione right back. "It did not help that you bit his head off in History of Magic this morning either. Just because you were in a bad mood from your detention with Professor Snape yesterday."
"I wasn't in the mood for his comments," responded Harry awkwardly.
"So you bit his head off first. That really helped," said Hermione sarcastically. "How bad was your detention with Professor Snape yesterday anyway?"
The pair were standing in an alcove during morning break before they went their separate ways to their next lessons. Hermione was still trying to talk some sense into her friends.
Unbeknownst to them, Snape was standing on the stairwell below them. He made a point of being visible on corridors between lessons, it kept students more under control. He just wasn't visible to the two standing above him. But he could hear every word.
There was a long silence above. Normally Severus paid no attention to the inane chatter of the students, ninety nine percent of it was drivel. But this time he was curious.
"It wasn't actually a detention," said Harry quietly.
"Oh," said Hermione, "What was it?"
"Dumbledore said it would be good for me to have a mentor this year, during the tournament. He picked the greasy git." Severus was irritated by the disrespect, but he knew that the student body called him all sorts. There was still silence from above. Severus was imagining Granger's shocked face. But he was pleasantly surprised.
"But Harry, that's a good thing," she said slowly. Snape could now picture Potter's look of shock.
"A good thing?! Bloody hell, Hermione, I just told you Snape is supposed to mentor me, and you think that's a good thing. That's fucked up."
"Oh, but think about it. Objectively. Think about what he knows. He could help you. Teach you stuff you need. Look, I'm not saying it'll be pleasant, but it's not a bad idea."
"Hermione, he's a total git. You know how he is in Potions. He's snarky, rude and insulting. Specifically to me. You know he's hated me from day one. He's out to get me. He's probably planning on telling me how to compete in such a way I'll get killed."
Severus heard Hermione huff. "You know that's not true. Yes, we thought that in first year, but that was Quirrell, well, V… anyway, it wasn't Professor Snape. And last year he did stop you getting eaten by a werewolf."
"He hates me," countered Harry.
"Look, I'm not saying this is all one sided or anything, but you are always rude to him. You mouth off at him in potions, and you and Ron muck about and he gets cross with you more than the rest of us."
"I breathe wrong in his class and he jumps on me!"
"Okay, okay, okay, don't bite my head off. I'm just saying it's a two way thing. What was he like yesterday, anyway?"
"He kept banging on about work, and academic stuff and behaviour. About what you'd expect. Git."
"Was he snarky? Did he yell at you?"
"Not exactly, but Hermione, that's not it. I don't want to do it. I don't want to talk to him. I'm sure he only attempted to be not a total arse yesterday because Dumbledore had told him to be nice. Give it a week and he'll be his usual gittish self at me and I'll end up scrubbing cauldrons or..."
Sound cut off from above mid-sentence.
"Or what?"
"Nothing. Or... anything. Whatever hideous thing he wants. You just don't get it, Hermione."
Snape heard footsteps walking away and a sigh from above.
"I'm just saying give it a chance," Severus heard Hermione call out.
Thirty seconds later Miss Granger walked down the stairwell past him. Her eyes widened slightly and she glanced above to judge the distance between him and the alcove they'd been in. She hurried by. She never heard him whisper, "Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger."
"This isn't going to work, Albus," said Severus, sitting in Dumbledore's office that evening. "Mentoring requires some semblance of a relationship, or trust, and right now we're on mutual disdain."
"I didn't say it was going to be easy, Severus. You have a fractious relationship with each other. He's also a fourteen year old boy. You are well aware of what they are like. You would have to admit that part of that mutual disdain as you put it is caused by you. Your job is to fix it. You are the adult here. Hold out an olive branch."
"I held out a f…" Severus started to snap. He took a breath and didn't snap at Albus twice, "I held out an olive branch yesterday. He sullenly sulked at it. I expect next time he'll throw it back in my face."
Albus sighed. "Severus, you agree that even though we know what the tasks are, and I've explained to you that all precautions have been taken this year to ensure the safety of participants, we both know Harry is not a normal participant. Any research I have done points to the fact that there is no choice for Harry to compete. We both know that means there's a reason for him having been entered. You swore to keep Harry safe. This is one way you're going to do it. I am aware of your dislike for each other. You are going to have to make the first move away from that. He's only a teenager. Next time you meet I will keep the floo open so I can listen to the conversation. I will intervene if necessary, but I expect you to keep the peace."
Severus sighed.
"Lemon drop?" Albus asked brightly as Severus stood up to leave.
Severus was very proud of himself for saying anything he shouldn't to Albus.
"I want to start by talking about the tournament, Mr Potter," said Snape.
Harry had been invited in and sat across the desk from Snape.
"The first task is less than two weeks away. That does not give you much time to prepare. So, while I would rather start this mentoring process with some simple topics of conversation, instead we will be talking about you staying alive."
Harry didn't say anything. There wasn't a question in that. Snape didn't look too pleased about the lack of response. Harry didn't really care what Snape thought.
"The first task will be a surprise to you on the day. That is part of the task. To see how well you adapt to unfamiliar situations. That is perfectly fine by me, because you won't be seriously competing. You will be staying alive."
What? thought Harry? He'd just spent over two weeks getting major stick from two of the houses, one of them Snape's own, and only slightly less stick from Ravenclaw. Even in his own house there was an undercurrent of him having done it deliberately to show off. He'd been entered, but he wasn't planning on looking a total moron by coming last!
"What?" Harry demanded, his tone indignant.
"I said," reiterated Snape coolly, "That you will be staying alive. That means you will be staying out of harm's way. You will compete to a suitable level for your age and ability. I am aware there are magical constraints involved. Your abilities are much less than all the other competitors. It would be unrealistic to think that you could win unaided. Please get that notion out of your head from the start."
Harry was angry. Snape was sabotaging him under the guise of helping. How dare he? Harry was capable. He'd faced Voldemort in first year and beaten him. Well, Quirrell, but that's not quite the point. He'd faced a Basilisk and the memory of Voldemort two years ago, and last year he hadn't been eaten by a werewolf. He'd had plenty of practice keeping himself safe on his own without help.
"No! You just want to see me laughed at by the school! Publicly!" yelled Harry. He'd stood up to rant. "All you want to do is make me look stupid. You yell at me constantly in class, you are snide and you hate me. You don't want to see me win anything. You argued about me being on the quidditch team, you argue every time I get points. You spend Potions taking as many off me as possible. All you're doing now is finding a way to officially make me look stupid. You're just a hateful git!"
Oddly, Snape wasn't ripping his head off. Harry could feel his heart beating in his chest. Snape hadn't even moved.
Harry hadn't heard or noticed the floo activating in the middle of his rant.
"I am disappointed with you, Harry," said a soft voice behind him. Harry spun round to see Professor Dumbledore right behind him.
Harry's jaw dropped open.
"I set this mentorship in motion so that you would have the benefit of Professor Snape's considerable expertise to keep you alive during the next year. So far you have either treated him with sullen silence or angered outburst. I invite you to consider whether that is acceptable, Harry," continued Dumbledore.
Harry was silent.
"I am waiting for a response."
"He's… He's… He's always unfair, he's snarky, he takes points, he's insulting and he picks on me. I don't want Snape to mentor me. Professor McGonagall could do it. Professor Flitwick even," said Harry. Harry had modulated his tone when speaking to Dumbledore.
"Has Professor Snape," asked Dumbledore, emphasising the honorific, "Taken points off you, yelled, insulted you, or picked on you in either this meeting, or Monday evening's meeting?"
"He will do!" Harry answered back.
"I ask again," said Dumbledore, "Has. He?"
Harry was silent, sullenly so.
"No, sir," he had to admit.
"Have you, in fact, been rude to Professor Snape?"
Harry was silent. There was no way he wanted to answer that question. Harry found Dumbledore very unnerving. He could see right into his soul. He didn't look angry. It was worse than that, he looked disappointed.
"Harry?" persisted Dumbledore.
"Fine, yes!" snapped Harry, angrily, "I yelled first."
"You are the only one yelling, and you are still doing it, Harry. I am disappointed that you don't realise that Professor Snape is trying to mend bridges. He would, I'm sure, freely admit that neither of you like each other. I will be honest and say that he thinks you act a like an arrogant brat, and you think him a snarky bully. I believe this mentorship will be good for you both. Help find common ground. Work together. Heaven forbid, get on."
Harry had the decency to look abashed. He had been the only one yelling.
"I believe," Dumbledore continued, "You owe Professor Snape an apology for insulting him just now."
"Or what," said Harry, his belligerent streak returning, "He'll take a ruler to me."
Snape spoke. He'd been strangely silent throughout the exchange so far. He'd just sat there, watching. "I told you on Monday. My mentoring sessions never involve a ruler. I meant it. If my Slytherins act up outside of this session, they know what to expect, but my mentoring sessions are open for all opinion. Students usually have the basic good manners to remain polite however."
"Was Professor Snape overly harsh on Monday morning?" asked Dumbledore. "Did you consider it a beating? Was he snide, insulting? Did he pick on you?"
Harry's face flamed. He was not talking about getting rulered by Snape to Dumbledore. That was so embarrassing.
"No, sir," he said hurriedly, to make the conversation go away.
"Well? Does your Professor deserve an apology?" said Dumbledore, looking Harry in the eye.
Harry swallowed his pride, "Sorry," he murmured. He wasn't effusive in his apology, but didn't feel he was forced to make it either.
"There, that wasn't so hard. The first steps," said Albus in a deliberately annoying chirpy way. "Carry on, Severus, where had you got up to? Ah yes, Mr Potter not dying. Mr Potter, pay attention to this bit – it's important."
Dumbledore stepped through the floo.
A/N: This is a story in progress. All feedback gratefully received. While I've planned where I want it to go, there's a point where it'll take me time to fill in the in-between bits of the scenes I've got in my head. I will finished the story, I'm just not promising speed.