What the hell had he gotten himself into, Harry thought as he dropped his head into his hands. He rubbed at his temples, trying to will the tension away. The school day had come to an end and he was finally alone in his classroom, but that didn't stop his thoughts from raging on and replaying the events of this past week on a loop.

His students had met him with either an air of awe and amazement or distrust and anger. Neither group did a good job at hiding away their feelings, the latter of which showed theirs through various acts of hostility and defiance.

Harry paused mid sentence, unable to ignore the snickering and whispering any longer. His current class consisted of second year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, who were well behaved for the most part, save for a certain group of students.

"Please refrain from talking during class time. I don't want to start taking points away so soon in the semester," Harry stated, throwing what he hoped to be a stern look toward the back of the classroom where most of the noise was coming from.

One of the Slytherin boys scoffed. "Why does it matter? You're going to take class points away from us anyway."

Holding back an exasperated sigh he replied, "If a student breaks a rule, I will deduct points from them no matter what house they belong to. I don't hold any house above the other."

"Yeah, right," the boy grumbled.

"It's not like we're learning anything new anyway," a girl sitting next to him added in a bored tone.

"I'm sorry?"

The girl lifted her chin, and with a condescendingly polite smile replied, "We're not learning anything new, professor. You're just repeating what we went over last year."

"I'm repeating this information as a reminder," Harry explained. "It is easy to forget things over summer break, I wanted us all to be on the same page before we move on to new material."

"Well, not all of us are careless enough to forget everything we've learned over a summer break. And for those of us that still remember what we learned - this class is a waste of our time."

The student's arrogance bore too much resemblance to a certain professor. And much like then, he had to will down the reactive flash of anger that threatened to overtake his response. Harry instead took a steadying breath and replied, "Well, you may think that this class is a waste of time, but you need to consider your classmates, too. It would be unfair to take their learning opportunity away from them. Please refrain from interrupting again, otherwise I will start taking points away."

His statement was answered with muted grumbling, scoffing, and one particularly exaggerated eye roll; but Harry chose to ignore it and went on with his lesson.

Aside from the outright defiance from students in just about every year, Harry had been on the receiving end of mostly harmless pranks. They hit randomly throughout the day, the latest one occurring just this morning – this one involved his hand becoming stuck to every object on his desk, including said desk.

But just because the pranks were harmless didn't mean that they weren't annoying, especially when Harry had reached the end of the week with no reprieve. He had done his best to ignore them whenever possible or laughing them off if he was in the presence of other students or professors. Hopefully, they would stop soon enough. It couldn't go on forever, surely the culprits would get bored of his lack of outward anger.

He frowned, tapping his fingers against a small pile of homework he had yet to give out.

"It's your first week teaching and you're already wallowing in your own self-despair."

Harry jerked his head up to find the current headmaster standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. "Good evening, professor."

Snape hummed, assessing him with an unreadable gaze that left Harry feeling on edge. "Come along," he said as he turned around, not checking whether Harry was following him or not.

Harry sighed and hurried to catch up with Snape's billowing robes. They made their way through the castle in relative silence, and soon enough Harry found them both inside the Headmaster's office.

He walked over to one of the windows, taking note of the setting sun, before wondering over to one of the many bookshelves in the room, glancing at the titles, but being too distracted to actually read them. This was it. He hadn't even made it a full school year.

"Do you want sugar?"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry?"

The older man let out an impatient sigh. "Do you want sugar in your tea – yes or no? It's a simple question. And for Merlin's sake, Potter, sit down before you wear a path in the floor." Harry flushed as he came to a stop and noticed that he had circled back to the window again.

"Oh, uh, no, thank you," he answered. He watched as two cups of tea were poured, one receiving two cubes of sugar and the other remaining plain. Harry's mouth quirked upward at the idea of Snape enjoying something sweet. Maybe he had a sweet tooth. Now that he thought about it, there was very little he knew about Snape that didn't directly apply to the school or the war. But before his mind could run away with more speculations a cup of tea was placed into his hands.

"I've heard that you've had a run in with some students already, all belonging to the Slytherin house no less," he stated. "Isn't it a little early to be stirring up trouble?"

Harry muttered his thanks and took a sip. "I wouldn't call it trouble, exactly."

"Then what would you call it? A mutiny perhaps?"

"Not a mutiny, no."

"You're right, those little tricks they've been playing on you were mere skirmishes," he drawled. "Tell me, Potter, are they focusing on property damage or are they targeting your person? Perhaps it's a combination of both."

He knew Snape was trying to bait him - old habits die hard - but Harry refused to get flustered. He was determined to not let the conversation end in an argument. "Nothing harmful has happened to me or any other student."

"Are you waiting until it does?"

"Well, no, but nothing truly malicious has happened – none of the pranks were meant to actually harm me."

"Your inability to comprehend a pattern, after spending all those years as an auror, no less, astonishes me. Let me remind you of an adolescent mindset – they constantly try to push boundaries, and they look at their peers to get an idea of what they can get away with. When they see willful disobedience go unpunished it shows them that they don't have to take you seriously, no matter your previous reputation. Tell me, are you being deliberately dense of your surroundings?" His voice was laced with condescension, making Harry feel as if he were a child again.

Harry clenched his jaw. "I am not being deliberately dense. There is nothing wrong with trying to be considerate of their situation." He felt his control slipping, he thought that they had moved past these kinds of confrontations. "You warned me yourself of their feelings toward me, and I am fully aware of why they may hate me. I am trying to prove to them that I am not the person they think I am – is that so bad?"

"You are testing my patience, Potter."

"I think the students involved are frustrated and-"

"The people who followed Voldemort started out being frustrated – and we both know what happened with that."

Harry glared. "With all due respect, professor, don't you think that comparison is a little farfetched? These students are children and-"

"And you were a child during a war, or did you forget that?"

"No, but I-"

"Then you personally know that a child can be influenced by just about anything – especially when they are surrounded by people who only have vengeance on their mind. The war was not that long ago, and any witch or wizard who suffered because of its resolution will not be forgetting it any time soon. You should know these things. Why are you being so naïve?"

Harry bit back an angry retort and looked down at his cup. "I am not being purposefully naïve, sir. The students are expecting me to punish them as a whole house – I don't want to play into their expectations."

"So, what is your plan?" Snape asked. Harry could feel his dark eyes boring into him.

"My plan for what?"

"Your plan of action, Potter. What are you going to do? How are you going to discipline? I do not wish to keep repeating myself"

Harry scratched at his scar. "I don't know," he replied. "I think I am truly at a loss with this one." He mindlessly traced his fingers around the teacup in his hands. "I still don't know who's behind the pranking, and I can't punish a whole house for something I have no proof of."

"You can punish them for their disobedience."

"I suppose."

"You suppose? Don't tell me that you plan on ignoring that kind of behavior."

Harry took a sip of his tea. "I'll ask them to stop," he mumbled, smirking at Snape's flabbergasted look.

Snape muttered a curse under his breath. "For the love of – Potter, you have to reprimand them if they break the rules."

"I will, I promise. I just need to earn their trust-"

"Trust has nothing to do with this. It didn't stop you or your friends from breaking the rules. And it didn't stop me from taking points away from your house or giving you detention."

Harry snorted. Snape was right, of course, most of Harry's school life was spent distrusting everything about the other man. He couldn't count on how many occasions he considered him to be a prime suspect. And although there were moments where Snape was downright nasty and antagonistic towards him, he still did his best to keep Harry safe.

He kept you safe out of guilt, Harry's mind supplied.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts and sheepishly replied, "I'm sorry."

Snape tapped his fingers against his teacup while leveling Harry with a glare. "What is the point of me giving you advice if you plan on ignoring it?"

"No, I didn't mean to ignore you, I promise. I was just…held up in my thoughts."

"I'm sure," the other man replied dryly before rolling his eyes and continuing, "As I was saying before, as an instructor, it is your responsibility to provide the best education to your students without showing prejudice."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that statement, which he tried to cover up with a cough - an answering glare told him that his masking was unsuccessful. Snape couldn't hide his hatred for Gryffindors during the entirety of his school years, Harry didn't even think he tried. But, nevertheless, he resolved to listen to Snape's opinion and advice, he'd take whatever help he could get.

Their conversation lasted well into the evening; it was filled with teaching strategies and the occasional anecdote, namely instances of Harry and his friends getting away unnoticed. This had led to Snape complaining of certain professors being swayed too much by the trio's plight.

"I don't care what your motive was. You being the golden boy did not make you unique," Snape had replied with a sneer.

Surprisingly, Harry had not gotten angry like he normally would have when confronted with such aggression. The differences in body language were so minute, his voice still sounding as dry and accusing as ever. But something about the tilt of Snape's frown and a lack of actual burning ire behind the glaring made Harry let the comments go.

They fell into a comfortable silence; each being occupied with their own thoughts as the noise of the room swirled about them. The paintings were rather quiet at this hour, with half of the occupants appearing to be napping – a certain nosy headmaster included.

Harry glanced up when he felt the prickly sensation of being watched, but he only found Snape shuffling papers around the desk. The other man paused, looked up at Harry, and arched an eyebrow. Harry coughed awkwardly and looked away, realizing that he must have been staring.

"Well, I think I'm going to go," he said as he stood up. "Thank you for the tea, professor. Have a good night." He gave Snape a polite smile before making his way to the exit.

"Don't forget to leave the cup on your way out."

"Right," he mumbled as he set the cup on the nearest side table. "Night."

"Likewise."

Walking through the vast hallways of the castle, he found himself deep in thought.

Harry was no stranger to Snape's feeling toward his mom; his love for her had withstood yearning and loss and everything in between. The strength of those feelings persevered, and Harry knew that those same feelings were responsible for Snape doing everything in his power to keep him safe during his time at Hogwarts.

But while the knowledge of Snape's loyalty to his mother used to bring him comfort, it now left a bitter taste in its wake.

This feeling made no semblance of sense.

There was no reason for Snape to care for him aside from his loyalty to his mother. Harry was nothing more than a representation of James' legacy, an unpleasant reminder of a hostile rivalry. But why did that thought feel like an aching bruise?

Just as Harry was rounding the corner, a body crashed into him, toppling him over and knocking the glasses off his face. But before he had a chance to take a good look at who the person was, they had scrambled away and run off in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Who's there?"

Harry turned his head, squinting at the approaching figure who appeared to be holding a lamp. He didn't need his glasses to recognize that it was Filch patrolling the halls.

Harry groaned as he rolled over to his hands and knees, trying to feel around the ground for his glasses. Whoever ran into him was small, but the force with which they crashed would no doubt leave bruises on his body come morning.

"Potter? Is that you? Why are you crawling on the floor?"

Before Harry had a chance to answer his glasses were thrust into his hands. He thanked the man as he put them on and slowly stood up, using the wall for support. "I was just on my way to my rooms when somebody literally ran into me."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know, I didn't get a good look at their face."

Filch grunted, walking a few steps down the hallway, shining his light in the direction the figure had disappeared. "That's all we need now, more trouble-makers wreaking havoc in the castle." He turned around and glared at Harry. "Well, what are you standing around for? You best get on your way before you attract more problems."

Harry hesitated for a moment. "Maybe I can be of some assis-"

"I don't need your help; it's probably a rogue student breaking the rules after hours. No, you'll just let them off without proper punishment if you catch them. Can't have that happening." Filch made a shooing motion with his lamp. "Now off you go, I don't want you causing any more trouble tonight."

Harry nodded, bidding the man a hasty good night, before taking off in the direction of his rooms.

As Filch had stated, it was highly likely that the runaway person was a student, but it wasn't a guarantee. Old memories sprang up to the forefront of his mind, reminding him that the castle wasn't impenetrable. Shaking his head, Harry tried to will away the paranoid feelings. He was making a big deal out of nothing.

All that said, he couldn't help feeling a sense of relief when he finally found himself safe in the confines of his rooms. With the door firmly shut, Harry leaned back against it and let his head sag forward.

He hadn't realized just how tense he had become until his muscles started to relax with every exhaled breath. He pushed away from the door, slowly making his way to the bedroom, undoing his robe in the process. Feeling too lazy to hang it up, he haphazardly draped it over the desk chair before changing out of his clothes.

His mind raged on, never allowing him to concentrate on any one thing, forming thoughts halfway before moving on to the next one. That wasn't to say that he wanted to concentrate on any of his problems, he didn't. But it would have been nice to not think about being a shit instructor for at least one night, and he didn't even know how to approach whatever unknown feelings he had experienced during his conversation with Snape.

He walked over to the adjoining bathroom and splashed his face with cold water, hoping it would help clear his mind, even if it were only for a moment. It was going to be a long night, there was no doubt about it.

He felt hesitant using a sleeping draught, having found himself growing too dependent on them in the early post-war years. Hermione had suggested some herbal teas to help calm his mind. Whether they worked or not he wasn't sure, but at this rate it was better than nothing.

With a sigh, and a brief glance at his exhausted looking reflection in the mirror, he set out to prepare himself a cup of tea, hoping that it would allow him to get at least a couple of hours of rest.