Harry spent his summer pretty dully until of course he blew up his aunt. That was quite the work of art in his opinion. As it was, Harry resorted to a nonverbal spell and hoped it wouldn't make much difference. It turned out it didn't of course with the minister sucking up to him afterwards and pretty concerned but for his well being and not for some muggle human-balloon.
On the next day he went to Diagon-Alley under his invisibility cloak as he knew he was in no real danger this year. There he bought all the books he could find of the subjects of animagi and advanced potions. He was getting more and more interested in Felix Felicis. If he had it in the needed quantities the last time… Snape would still die but how many others would be saved?
From then on Harry waited and did this in trepidation for he knew exactly how complicated this year was going to be and he still hadn't found a way to minimize the damage for Snape.
The only thing besides Harry's studies that had changed over the summer, were the nightmares of Snape. They were no longer nightmares alright – they were pure hell. It started with one of the usual dreams of a young Snape where he watched him being bullied by his father and Sirius. But this time the dream didn't merge into another. No, Snape was finally dropped to the ground and left on his own. When the boy righted himself, he turned and stared straight at Harry.
"You didn't stop him."
"No.", Harry heard his reply.
"You always watch. You never stop them.", there was accusation and hurt in the young Snape's voice and it crushed him to hear it even in his dream.
"I'm sorry."
"Everybody watches. Everybody laughs.", he spat on the ground. "I hate you."
That was the first night for a long time when Harry woke up crying.
The consequent ones were similar to this first with guilt escalating more and more with the next one.
On the final night of his stay in the Leaky Cauldron however, the worst one yet played.
Snape was his grown-up self and they were both in the Shrieking Shack.
"I saved your life."
"Yes"
"I protected you for seven years.", Snape's face was an epitome of disgust. "I tried to teach you everything you needed to survive. To succeed. And what did you do? YOU LEFT ME HERE TO DIE POTTER!", he shouted outraged.
"No! I'm here to save you! I WON'T LET YOU DIE AGAIN!", Harry shrieked.
"Won't you?", Snape's tone was sardonic. "Saint Potter, the savior of the wizarding world will come to my rescue, is that it?"
"Damn it, do you want me to save you or not?"
"You can't save me. It is too late."
And as Snape said that, Harry's vision morphed and suddenly he was Nagini. And he was attacking Snape. Sinking his fangs in his neck, tasting Snape's blood in his mouth.
Then, again, he was Harry, kneeling in front of a dying man.
"I –", he sobbed, "I didn't mean it… I –"
"It's okay,", Snape muttered, his voice rasping. "It's alright. Just…look at me, Harry."
Harry woke up to a loud scream of 'no' which turned out to be his own. When he realized he was only dreaming, he started calming down but at the same time uncontrollable sadness swallowed him whole. He had to do something about those dreams.
Once on the train Harry felt elated. He breathed in what felt like magic, looking forward to speaking again like a normal human being. If of course Snape felt like it. And didn't jinx him.
Sitting next to Remus' sleeping form, he tried to remember he was thirteen and the man was in fact sleeping and not dead. He hadn't prepared himself for this and hadn't expected seeing this man to affect him so. He could do nothing for him, he was sure. He couldn't as much as stir him awake right now, much less change the event of his death. He'd never even witnessed it. Harry'd been told that he'd died fighting, but no one seemed to have even recognized which wand in particular delivered the fatal curse. Yet, here he was, serving an 8 years sentence for another. And it wasn't only him – he could have been back for Sirius, or Dumbledore, or Fred, or Tonks – there were so many and yet, he seemed to have chosen, be it unconsciously, that they were not to be saved.
Lupin awoke just in time as Harry could hear the dementor approaching.
Harry could remember vividly the last time he got near a dementor and didn't conjure a patronus. Helplessness was an awful feeling.
An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart…
Harry's eyes rolled up into his head.He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder…
'Look at me'…. "NO!", Harry wanted to scream, but his voice didn't oblige. He simply sank in the image of the dying man and let all hope drain him…
"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"
Someone was slapping his face.
"W-what?"
The dementor gone, eating his chocolate, Harry knew he was out of his depth. And Erised knew it before he did.
"On a happier note," Dumbledore continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.
"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed in Harry's ear.
Harry was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. it was beyond anger: it was loathing. This year would be tough on Severus Snape.
Harry had blissfully forgotten how obnoxious Draco had gotten after receiving his grave injury from Buckbeek. He was exploitative to the extreme, gaining all he could while his arm was in his less than genuine cast and Snape…well Sape seemed to play oblivious. In fact the professor seemed to do that a lot this year where Harry was concerned as well.
"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm —"
"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.
"I will do it." Harry stood and while Snape looked at him suspiciously, he nodded eventually.
Harry went on pretending not to notice the gleeful smirk on the blonde's face, chopping his stupid daisy roots in perfectly even slices.
"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.
"Hush now you imbecilic…" Harry muttered already skinning the fruit.
While Draco threatened Hagrid, Harry looked on to see Snape had found a new victim in poor Neville. To be fair as far as he remembered the threat to spill the potion on Trevor had worked enough to make Neville produce a good Shrinking Solution.
Harry left Malfoy to his unsliced caterpillars in order to go to Neville's side.
"Let me see", Harry said ignoring the professor who seemed to have the boy petrified at this point. "You have added too much spleen to the potion, so this –", he dropped some of the powder already on the desk. "Should do to stabilize it for the time being. If you pay attention, it should be fine. Now what's next?"
"FIVE POINTS POTTER!" Snape snarled at him and damn it was hard to ignore.
"Sorry, sir." He said looking up at the professor as calmly as he could muster.
"Go back to your seat." He said dangerously low. "And stay after class."
Harry nodded and retreated to his own potion which was bubbling happily in the cauldron, ready as can be.
"Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."
Meanwhile Malfoy decided that his failed attempt to enrage Harry with Hagrid could be recompensed with goading him about Sirius. The boy really had too much spare time.
Meanwhile Snape continued to be Snape, scarred Neville for life and ended the class on a huff in honor of Trevor not actually dying.
After class was dismissed, Harry stayed behind dutifully awaiting the storm to fall upon him.
"Have you managed to grasp the concept of Golpalott's third law, Potter?" he asked grumpily surprising Harry.
"I – I have read every text you recommended as well as 7 other tomes on alchemy but I don't think I will be able to make full sense of the theory without proper practice." He muttered confused, still looking for a catch.
"I thought as much. I suggest you leave other students progress at their own pace."
"Trauma is not conducive to progress, sir."
"Detention will be tomorrow at six."
"Yes, sir."
On the next day, after the bogart DADA class Harry was having a trouble with an internal dilemma. On one hand he realized why Snape reacted like this and why he became so vindictive and menacing but on the other, he seemed to vent it all on Nevil. The poor boy had simply admitted he was his worst fear. He didn't deserve this. Then again, Snape didn't deserve this on his plate either.
His detention didn't go any better. Even if the professor had assigned him to make an antidote, something better for Harry to do than any of his classes combined, he seemed unable to look Harry in the eye, even if it was to curse him.
" . ?", the potions master ground out as he'd refused to start on his potion.
"I was concerned, sir." Harry said feigning the nonchalance he wished he could muster.
"About what?", he asked venomously.
"About – about you.", he stuttered. This seemed to catch Snape off guard. "Lately you haven't been yourself. I think you're on the way of scarring even some of the Slytherins for life."
"Keep your thoughts for yourself!", replied Snape outraged. "Now get to your potion before I decide to take more points."
"Take them all if it will help."
"Enough of this insolence!", Snape stood abruptly."Do as you are told for once."
"Please, sir, it is clear you are upset –"
"And you thought to get me less upset by pointing it out?" he practically snarled.
A thousand thoughts ran through Harry's mind. Snape thought Sirius had betrayed his parents. He had relayed the prophecy but if it wasn't for the secret keeper… He didn't want to blame himself and had someone he hated to turn to instead. Remus was at the school – the werewolf who almost killed him. Remus who might be helping Sirius. Remus who'd made a joke out of him earlier today. He'd sworn to protect Harry. Harry who was spitting image of James Potter. Merlin, but this was tricky. What on Earth could Harry possibly say?
"Just do your potion, Potter", he spat his name like a regular insult and it stung. Way to go to bite someone for simply existing.
Harry turned to chopping flobberwarms and lemon grass.
"He was their secret keeper." He ventured out of the blue, his knife steady.
"Let the grownups deal with it." Snape answered vaguely after a while, shuffling through the papers on his desk, barely even looking at him.
"I don't hold any grudges, you see. What's done is done. No justice can bring them back.", he said calmly looking up at his professor, seeing him flinch slightly never letting the parchment he was reading slip from his hands.
"Thank you for your input. Are you quite done?"
"Actually no, I was thinking, this is a basic antidote and while it makes sense, it doesn't touch on the alchemical properties of the ingredients." Snape looked up from his parchment, which Harry took as a good sign. " You see, I understand that for a fire-based poison, a water-based one would be ideal, but do I dissect ingredients just according to elements, would that do? Do you think perhaps arithmancy would make it more precise?"
The potions professor hummed, put down his parchment and picked a new one.
"Should I get myself familiarized with numerological properties of ingredients in my stipulations as well? Perhaps I should study the subject in order to understand calculations –"
"Here, Potter, when you're done with this, perhaps you'd benefit from the study of a few more tomes."
"Thank you, sir", he said deliberately keeping himself from going over to the offered note.
"If you have any questions, professor Sinistra would surely be happy to assist you."
"I see." He decided on after a deliberation, stirring his now almost complete potion.
"She is the subject-matter expert in Arithmancy.", Snape further explained.
"Yes, of course."
Lesson relearned. Snape still wasn't sure what to make of Harry, that was for sure. But now Harry too wasn't too sure what to do with himself.
As weeks passed he resigned himself to studying from his new books, searching for something helpful on the pages. Whenever he saw Snape, the latter made no point of even noticing him and Harry was now wondering how he was supposed to get graded at all if his work wasn't monitored. He didn't dare make another move though. If it could get any worse than this Harry didn't wanna know.
The next time he actually dared breached the course of history was in a DADA class.
Harry skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open, and dashed inside.
"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin. I —"
But it was Snape who stood there as it was this time of the month.
"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."
It went exactly as Harry remembered it. Snape was still out to get Lupin nevertheless what Harry said or did. Some things he had to leave alone, he understood but Merlin was this man wrong in his aspirations. Harry couldn't help but imagine how he himself would have reacted to a Draco Malfoy as his colleague professor. He hoped he'd be… well at least not he same.
"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…"
"The werewolf,", Harry recited with a bored voice staring past Snape. "differs from the true wolf in several small anatomy details. Them being the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes, the tufted tail –"
Snape stared at him with pure loathing. Harry stared back. If he was going to be like this, at least he too would get to vent the pent up emotion.
"Ten points – from Gryffindor for insolent behavior and lack of discipline.", Snape snarled.
Everyone glared at him for this and the story tried to repeat itself with Ron defending… well him. except Harry didn't let him.
"You asked us a question and I knew the answer." He said calmly and saw with his peripheral vision Ron staring at him. "Why ask if you don't want to be told?"
The class knew instantly he'd gone too far. Snape advanced on him slowly, and the room held its breath.
"Detention, Potter," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Harry's. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."
No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.
When Harry arrived for his detention that evening, he had already realized he had inadvertently crossed all existing lines, in fact had made new ones beyond them and crossed those too. Criticizing Snape's teaching equaled Harry petting Lupin during the full moon and saying 'nice doggy'
"Enter."
Harry locked his gaze on Snape as soon as he saw him and went closer to sit in the chair.
"My essay.", he said and pushed forward a rolled parchment glaring at nothing in particular.
"Why, Potter, this will not excuse you from your detention."
"Of course not."
Snape seemed to scrutinize him for a moment or two before getting up.
"Follow me."
As Harry also stood a quill on Snape's desk caught his eye. So he was using it. It should calm him down, he knew that but still with the way he had sunk so low today… he couldn't be excused so easily.
"Tell me something, sir,", Harry said as Snape went to open the adjacent door. "why do you hate him so much?"
The potions master spun around so he crashed with him.
"What!", he practically spat in Harry's face.
"I'm asking why you were out to get him today. Or you mean to tell me you didn't guess someone was bound to realize that his absence coincides with the full moon."
Snape narrowed his eyes and glared at him.
"So he told you, didn't he?"
Harry snorted.
"Of course not. I'm not that much of a dunderhead as you give me credit for, professor."
"Stop interfering in other people's business, Potter. You're bound to pay for it."
"I'm counting on it, sir.", he gestured to the door Snape was currently blocking. "May I?"
It seemed impossible to change Snape's mind of Lupin. He tried to tell himself the potions master was so harsh on him because he believed Remus was helping Sirius and thus he was actually protecting Harry but he couldn't deny that even if it hadn't been for the escaped prisoner, Snape wouldn't have been any nicer towards the DADA professor. However, he was not one to judge. Harry was sure if it had been for Draco Malfoy, even after years had passed, he would be non too happy to provide potions for the slimy ferret and leave him teach kids the Dark Arts unattended.
Nevertheless, he had other things on his mind. With Christmas approaching and his determination to do something for the stubborn man, he had little time and options to spend it. He couldn't leave Hogwarts and risk being seen, but having had a plan a year ahead helped a lot. That's why the first Hogsmeade weekend he asked Hermione for a favor, namely to go to a certain store and get him a catalogue. It was pure chance he knew of the store's existence as he'd never actually entered it, and quite a miracle they did indeed have a catalogue. The next step was writing to Gringots and once his money was delivered, it was a piece of cake getting what he wanted even though he hadn't moved an inch out of the confines of the school. There was the other matter of actually delivering the gift in a way Snape was sure to accept it and not throw it in Harry's face. That was a bit more difficult to process a plan for, but not impossible as it proved.
They haven't talked since his detention and he didn't really want to right now. It would be better for the potions master if Harry backed off for a few months, at least till the Black business came to pass. He could picture Snape's reaction pretty clearly as he'd seen it once before and he wasn't looking forward to it. How he was to repair that particular damage once done, he didn't want to think of.
But he couldn't help make it personal. Of course it would be good enough to do a good deed or two for the professor so he believed him when the time of critical importance came, could proclaim his trust to the man and only repair the damage once done, but it wasn't good enough. Harry wanted to do something for him, the plan aside. He didn't care if Snape ever knew it was him that did it. It was enough that he would know. He had a vague idea or two for when it would be appropriate to act but meanwhile too, he was determined to do some small things.
At lunchtime they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only three other students, two extremely nervous-looking first years and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.
"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore as Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables…Sit down, sit down!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down side by side at the end of the table.
"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged.
Harry straightened and extended his ready-for-the-job wand under the table as with a bang the cracker flew apart emitting blue smoke. When the smoke subsided on the table lay a silver ring with rectangular onyx stone. Snape frowned looking at it as though it would rear a head and bite him any moment now. Dumbledore on the other hand looked at it with twinkling eyes.
"Splendid! Simply splendid. May I, Severus?", Snape, still frowning, nodded stiffly and the headmaster took the ring to look at it closely. "Marvelous", he said smiling a bit bitterly. "And the best thing I ever got from a cracker was grow-your-own-warts kit."
"Take it if you want it.", Severus muttered annoyed at the attention it seemed.
"Oh I couldn't do that. It was your cracker after all.", he smiled knowingly and set the ring back on the table in front of the potions master.
It didn't go as well as planned as Snape didn't actually touch the ring through dinner with Trelawney arriving and his mood disturbed by the mentioning of Lupin, but Harry felt certain the charm he had put on it would hold long enough so that when Snape did touch the ring, he would feel it.
As time passed the next Hogsmeade weekend came and everything went the same way up until he was in Snape's office.
"Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter?"
Harry's eyebrows lifted an inch.
"I can imagine quite a number of things Malfoy could've seen, sir."
"It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair."
There was a long silence which Harry knew better to interrupt.
"What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?" said Snape softly. "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade."
The boy got the feeling he was there for decorum to his professor's monologue.
"I know that.", he said calmly.
"You do, don't you –"
"You don't honestly believe I'll say I've been to Hogsmeade, do you, sir?", Harry asked rolling his eyes exasperatedly. "You cannot prove that I was anywhere in particular and you know it."
Snape glared at him for the longest time yet and finally straightened up again.
"So, everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences."
"Of course.", Harry supplied. "Famous Harry Potter is above the rules, didn't you know that?", he let his voice drip with sarcasm and didn't waver under the glare he got. "Famous Harry Potter disregards the authority of others, and lives to disappoint his protectors for he cares for none but himself and nothing but indulging his whims." He concluded and sighed. "But that last bit is a lie, I admit. Pathetic Harry Potter actually cares be it for one person. And that one person is luckily the same he gets to disappoint on every step he takes. You must have an idea what that feels like, sir."
The silence didn't last long as the potions master finally seemed tired of glaring and went for another tactic.
"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter," Snape said, his eyes glinting. "He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers…The resemblance between you is uncanny."
Harry sighed to this. Though he knew it would come, it still hurt to hear it from him.
"Your father didn't set much store by rules either," Snape went on, pressing what he thought was his advantage, his thin face full of malice. "Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen —"
"Tell me something I don't' know, sir. So my father was a git. What a surprise! And of course I, his dwarf-clone, would follow in his steps… That's a wonderful image you've got there, sir.", his eyes watered but he didn't bother to stop and collect himself. "It must feel really good to be able to say it in my face with all your malice put in copious amounts in every syllable.", his voice broke but that didn't stop him. "Let me make it even more enjoyable for you.", Harry finished and took the Marauders' map out of his pocket and on the desk.
He used the little time Snape needed to disregard his little emotional explosion and study the parchment to compose himself. Therefore he didn't see the professor stare at him before striding to his fireplace to call Lupin. Harry wasn't really there. He was in his fifth year in one of the Occlumency lessons where Snape yelled at him. When he snapped out of it, he realized he'd missed half of the conversation.
"Harry, do you know any of these men?" , Remus had asked him.
"No," said Harry quickly.
"You see, Severus?" said Lupin, turning back to Snape. "It looks like a Zonko product to me —"
Right on cue, Ron came bursting into the office. He was completely out of breath, and stopped just short of Snape's desk, clutching the stitch in his chest and trying to speak.
"I — gave — Harry — that — stuff," he choked. "Bought — it…in Zonko's…ages — ago…" "Well!" said Lupin, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. "That seems to clear that up! Severus, I'll take this back, shall I?" He folded the map and tucked it inside his robes. "Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay — excuse us, Severus—"
Harry didn't dare look at Snape as they left his office.
He wasn't surprised as his nightmares intensified over the next few weeks, nor that it became once again quite harder to look at the potions master or even be in his presence. To add to this it was disturbing how frequently his thoughts ghosted over the picture the mirror of Erised painted for him in his first year. Despite how hard it was and how thin the chance he had was, he knew he couldn't give up and do nothing. He would save the git's life even if he hated him for it.
The months went by and every next one brought an ounce of trepidation for the end of term.
It turned out as Harry feared. He was compelled to repeat almost everything as it had been for the moment was critical and with the prophecy in the bargain he couldn't risk it anyway.
So he went to the Shrieking Shack after Sirius and Ron along with Hermione and the three listened to the unlikely story of a long time ago up until Snape entered the scene. Then again the history repeated itself as the potions master proved he hadn't changed at all with his attitude and utter madness.
"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too —"
Harry cursed in his mind but did as he was supposed to and blocked Snape's path.
"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin —"
Potter looked straight in his eyes with sullen expression.
"Thank you, sir, for trying to protect me but I can't let you do this. This has nothing to do with you, sir. Please step back.
" . .way!", Snape hissed.
"I'm sorry, no. You're about to send an innocent man to a certain death, maybe two. Whether Sirius Black is guilty or not, I deserve explanation for what he did and I'll get it with or without your permission."
"Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"
Harry closed his eyes as he heard the movement behind Snape
"Expelliarmus!"
There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.
Harry looked around. Both Ron and Hermione had tried to disarm Snape at exactly the same moment. Snape's wand soared in a high arc and landed on the bed next to Crookshanks.
The next time Harry saw Snape was after all the havoc with the time-turner. And as the first time the potions master was out of his mind with anger shouting and accusing him of freeing Sirius. All Harry could do was listen and realize how deep his hatred ran now. Harry couldn't really pinpoint what had upset Snape more, the loss of Black, or of the Order of Merlin. Perhaps both as he was quite out of hand. He wondered if this new level of loathing would ever dissipate.
The last week of the term served to nearly break Harry's heart as he became witness of what Snape's behavior towards him would be from now on. He was certain that for the potions master he was now nothing more than a reincarnated James Potter.