His first meeting with Voldemort in quite a while had been more terrifying than he remembered. Driven by the anticipation of the impending return of the Dark Lord, Harry had been reasonably anxious about inadvertently revealing not only his return in time, but also his thoughts about Snape, as well as his memories of what was to come. It had happened just the same as he remembered down to the interlocking wands, even with his parents appearing there to encourage him. Voldemort's gaze had been penetrating, terrifying and very much paralyzing. While he hadn't outright attacked Harry with a mind spell, it still felt as though Voldemort could see everything to the edge of his soul. Harry had felt the link between them instantly this time. He'd been the horcrux to return the man to his corporeal form once more and maybe it was because he knew of the bond they shared, but it felt as something solid and tangible.
After the encounter, watching Severus still himself in order to go by the Dark Lord's side, Harry still couldn't tell if Voldemort had noticed something different about him. Since none of the adults felt the need to inform him and since he couldn't even ask, he went back to Privet Drive without seeing the Potions professor again.
Returning to number 4, he had the instant wild urge to go straight to Spinner's end, which was thankfully nipped in the bud when he realized he didn't know the actual address. As it was, he settled for soldering through two fairly depressing months.
Harry knew no one would write to him as they had been forbidden to do so. He would have no way to tell if something had gone wrong until it was too late to do anything.
He didn't dream of Cedric anymore as he had expected to. He dreamt of his mom once. She was crying and Harry tried to reach her, only to find her drifting further away the more he tried to get close. She'd felt like a stranger. The eerie feeling had stayed with him for several days after.
He'd dreamt of Sirius dying a couple of times, and even of Remus once. Not once had he dreamt of Snape during these couple of months to his bewilderment as almost all his waking thoughts were of the man.
Four years had come and gone and things were getting serious now. He had blinked and here he was, with only brief moments left to prepare himself. Occlumency, venoms, healing spells and potions – those were the main points of his meager list of things he should definitely master. So far neither of them had been led to a satisfying completion – certainly nothing to cross off of it.
In the end, it had been a strange experience to meet a dementor in the end of that summer. The funniest thoughts ran through his head as he knew he couldn't die that day and yet, he had the strange notion that he would not be able to produce a patronus. What could count as a happy memory in his life anymore? He'd detached himself from his roots, from his friends, from his life. His mom and dad's love for him was but a distant memory of someone else that he'd seen in a pensieve. All he'd held dear, he'd not felt for the past four years. The only man he could speak to could not stand him. And yet he knew that if he did nothing, he would just end up riding along the memory, producing the spell perfectly none the less.
He could not wait for this to be over and to get to Grimmauld Place at last. He could not wait for this summer to be over so he could see his awful potions teacher again, to find him alive and nasty as usual – breathing, speaking, hating him. It was strange how this thought filled him with resolve and he felt a perfect amalgam of joy and anger as he found his hand lifting the wand to produce the Patronus charm.
The first evening in Grimmauld Place, just as the order meeting ended, Harry ran down the stairs just in time to see the familiar black cloak moving swiftly towards the front door.
"Professor Snape!", he yelled after him and the man turned around rather startled it seemed to find him there. Harry backtracked as he saw him, his heart hammering suddenly as if caught in a crime scene. He tried not to smile and have Snape think him mad but Merlin he was glad to see him again.
"Potter.", Snape acknowledged and Harry's eyes roamed through his face, his posture, and his hands. He looked – not well exactly – tired, maybe even irritated, but okay.
"How are you, sir?", he asked softly trying to sound natural and failing miserably.
"Why, thank you for your concern, Potter – I feel fine."
Harry sighed and chanced a smile but it faded too soon to be counted as such.
"You won't stay – for dinner.",
'Of course he won't stay. Couldn't you have asked a more stupid question?', he could have kicked himself.
Snape studied him in turn for a brief moment.
"No.", he said coldly and he was gone before Harry could say anything else.
It didn't matter however, as Harry breathed in deeply and smiled to himself. He hadn't felt this light in a long time.
Harry didn't have a second chance to catch Snape one-on-one in the safe-house. He wasn't paranoid enough to believe the potions master avoided him on purpose. His godfather was enough of an excuse for Snape's early departure. In fact, the only other time Harry saw him was in a heated dispute with Sirius. He couldn't remember having seen this before but he couldn't miss the opportunity as it presented itself. He was thinking along the lines of finding a leeway to let Sirius know how he felt about his attitude and what better time than when caught in wrongdoing. Of course, Snape too was off track but he didn't think criticizing him would do any good.
So when he stepped into the living room, it was in the middle of a mutual verbal (thank Merlin) attack gone unintelligible as each of them tried to shout over the other.
"And here I thought only grown men were allowed in the Order.", he said casually after slamming the door shut to silence them.
"Harry, stay out of it.", Sirius barked immediately and Harry frowned.
"I will not. Now stop embarrassing yourself. You act like a child.", he stepped closer to his godfather turning his back to Snape completely.
"I behave like a child! Ask Snivellus here –"
"His name is Severus." Harry interrupted what was undoubtedly the beginning of another rant."Not Snivellus, nor the greasy git, and neither the overgrown bat!", he almost growled. "I'm fed up with this, Sirius. You're both grownups now and it's about time to act like it. Moreover, you're allies now, on the same side, against the same enemy. Tomorrow your life may depend on him and I doubt you'll be calling him Snivellus then."
"I can't believe you're actually defending him!", his godfather spat.
What Harry couldn't believe was that he was actually able to say what was on his mind, but that was an entirely different point.
"Defending him?", he turned around to face Snape, only to blink in disbelief at the totally inappropriate smirk on his professor's face. Harry inhaled deeply to stop the sudden wish to wipe off the expression. "Please, sir, this is a private matter."
Snape had the decency to nod and take his leave.
When the door closed, Harry turned back to Sirius who looked livid.
"I'm not defending him, Sirius, but what I've said is true and you know it. Professor Snape may be many things, but I trust him with my life. I understand there are certain times when he's pretty much asking for it, but – please, be the better man and refrain from acting like a child. You're not in school anymore, and he's risking his life to aid our cause."
"And of course I lay here all day –"
"Sirius, stop it.", Harry wasn't about to listen to the same reasoning he suspected led to his death. "Or would you rather be in his place around Voldemort?"
"I didn't make him go to him in the first place!", Sirius now yelled.
"Of course not, but still… are you jealous of him? Is that it?"
"Of course not! I thought you at least would understand!"
"I do understand.", Harry replied calmly.
"No you don't! You're nothing like James!"
He didn't have an answer to this. He never really had been like James, apart from the appearance but it still hurt when it was intended to indicate disappointment.
Sirius meanwhile slumped in the nearest chair, looking entirely crestfallen.
"You didn't mean to say that.", Harry tried softly.
"No, I didn't."
"I'm sorry. I offended you."
"No you didn't. It's just that – forget it."
Harry stared at the figure ahead and his heart sank. He knew exactly what he had to forget.
"It's just that you wish you could go back there, to those days when everything was simple and you were a free man."
It was hard assuaging his godfather his worries weren't founded, when two thirds of what he wanted to say wasn't allowed to pass his mouth and the one third that could, was inexplicable. In the end, he spent his time at Grimauld place talking to Sirius about his past love interests as it proved to be a safe and sure method to cheer him up.
Snape, on the other hand, he saw again only after he was back at Hogwarts. He watched him intently every spare second he could chance to, while trying to the best of his ability to channel out the voice of the pink frog-like person currently trying to pass as the new DADA teacher. He still hadn't forgotten her impact on the wizarding community while the Ministry was under Death Eater's command. Personally, to him it still seemed that Voldemort's horcrux didn't really serve to worsen her temper in any visible way. He couldn't wait for his first DADA lesson of the year, that was for sure.
Snape, meanwhile looked like his mind was elsewhere even though he seemed to be listening to Umbridge's speech with rapt attention. He pondered at his memory trying to remember if anything of significance had happened around this time but came out empty-handed and decided he would wait and see how Snape would act in class. Some, Harry's inner voice included, would have thought this conclusion would be the end of his observations of the potions master but Harry didn't tear his gaze away until at last Snape noticed and stared back.
As he turned away from the Potions Master, his gaze fell instead on the Ravenclaw table ahead only to find dark eyes watching him furtively. With a pang he remembered Cho Chang and their pleasant, if misguided, short relationship. Would he have to repeat this as well?
Dreams when coming to Hogwarts had the tendency to change quickly but he didn't expect what followed later the same night. There he was, dreaming of the dark-eyed spiteful teenager, who normally accused him of treachery and worse crimes and then, instead of repeating the tradition, he simply came close to him and kissed him.
When he woke up, Harry had to quickly redefine the term nightmare for this particular purpose especially given that the last thing he felt was fright. He could feel the ghost of soft lips against his lying in his bed and he thought it impossible to know how someone's lips would feel without actually experiencing a kiss and yet here he was, wondering.
He felt positive it was his own fault, thinking of Cho before going to bed knowing he was going to dream of Se – Snape. What was wrong with him?
He couldn't sleep after this episode and found himself mulling all night over the contents of his dreams and everything else that was either going to, or already happening.
Finally he gave up on sleeping altogether and tried practicing clearing his mind which of course proved a challenge that kept him up till morning arrived.
In his first Potions class, Harry was tempted to ask the wall if it missed him over the summer as Snape went on with his speech about OWLs. Strangely enough, he missed the chance to glare at him, which Harry supposed was due to his now acceptable skills in the subject. Nevertheless, the Potions Master avoided looking at him throughout the whole ordeal and only passed him while assessing the work done by the class. Harry distinctly remembered what had happened last time and while he felt glad for the lack of repeat, he still found it odd Snape would deprive himself and the Slytherins from the chance to throw at least one scathing remark in his direction. As it was the only odd thing in his behavior, Harry couldn't place it. Still, he couldn't leave it at that.
A few minutes before the end of class, there was a minor explosion that managed only to startle the others, while the contents of Harry's cauldron turned pure black, puffing up tiny wisps.
"What's the meaning of this?", Snape yelled just as Harry had hoped he would while the students scrambled to see what had happened. "Silence!", he ordered further and walked forward to Harry's cauldron. "If it isn't again Mr. Potter, the bane of my existence.", he sneered to the expected snickering from the Slytherins. "You couldn't survive a single Potions class without making yourself the centre of attention, could you?" Harry glared to the best of his ability at this. "If you yearn so much to spend time with my humble persona, I shall indulge you gladly.", he added softly, expression forbidding. "Detention tonight at seven o'clock in my office for you."
"As much as I'd want to,", Harry answered with a defiant smirk, "I can't make it, sir. You see I already have a detention scheduled for tonight.", the Slytherins were openly laughing now and even Snape quirked his lips in an upwards direction.
"I see. Shall we make that tomorrow night, then? If of course, Merlin forbid, you don't have previous arrangements."
"As a matter of fact I do, sir –"
"Shut up, and stay after class, Potter!."
'Gladly, sir', he itched to answer but enough was enough. Snape would surely kill him the second there were no witnesses.
"What pray tell were those 'arrangements' that rendered you incapable to serve detention?"
"None that 'render me incapable', sir. Rather, another detention already in place for the whole week.", he answered calmly.
"When did you find time and what effort did it cost you to put yourself in detention on your first day of the school year, Potter?", Snape sounded exasperated. Harry tried really hard to not find it funny.
"Merely the effort to say a name and much more to suppress everything else I wanted to add, sir."
" . ?"
"I said that a certain Dark Lord was back.", Harry ground out.
"Not in Defense Against the Dark Arts, surely."
"Obviously right then and there."
"To what purpose might that extremely foolish act serve, Potter?"
"Other than proving myself foolish to the extreme, none really.", he stated and almost smiled.
There was something seriously wrong with him he was sure, but he couldn't pretend it didn't feel good to be able to speak with Snape again.
"Which conveniently leads to our other point." Snape winced and looked away from him and to the cauldron on his desk. "Why is your potion black, Potter?"
"So I could get a detention."
"And the means to make me a laughing stock to your classmates.", he hissed venomously.
"So I could talk with you."
"And you were required a detention to do so?"
"Well, as we generally know how much you'd like to speak to me – "
"What is it that you want to talk about, Potter?"
"I wanted to know how you were."
Snape stared at him uncomprehending.
"Is that worth the loss of house points or the set back in your education to you?", he asked incredulous.
"Certainly. It's worth more in fact as the last time I actually knew what was going on with you was right before you went to – "
"Enough!", Snape barked. "As you can see and as I've already assured you, I'm fine.", he replied but continued staring at Harry as though he was a rare specimen he considered putting in a jar. Strangely, the boy didn't mind in the least.
"So it went – well?"
"Rather well, yes." Snape conceded.
"I can't believe you agreed to this.", Harry sighed.
"I wasn't' given much choice in the matter I assure you."
"Not much but still, not everyone would have done it."
"I will not discuss this further with you, Potter.", his voice contained a warning and Harry's desire for conversing subdued to it.
"Of course not.", he nodded. "No sort of information is worth your life though. I hope you realize this."
"Get out."
"What about my detention, sir?"
"Do you really wish to serve detention, Potter?", Harry shrugged. "Get out.", he repeated.
A whole week of restless nights filled with dreams of a certain professor wasn't what Harry intended to subject himself to, so he decided instead to devote only half his nights to the effort of sleep, while the other half, he spent a bit more productively studying. He had to admit it was only Potions and Occlumency in which he could concentrate enough to pull it. As a result however, Snape would have to mark his essay with something other than D, be it grudgingly, he mused.
But Harry wasn't being fair. Since he came back, it was a rather rare occasion for the Potions Master to deem his work lacking. No, Snape wouldn't be surprised at the efforts he'd put in his moonstone homework, on the contrary, he'd be surprised and disappointed, Harry imagined, if he scraped less than Acceptable.
His week passed with a bit of bleeding in the company of Umbridge, and a lot of time spent in the effort not to think about Snape. He couldn't believe he actually wanted to have to endure Potions more than once a week.
When Harry received his graded essay on Monday, he did a double take. There in the upper-right corner stood a perfect round "O" and right below it a miniscule tightly scripted note 'Try not to show the enthusiasm of an apprentice in future' . He was quick to hide the parchment in his bag in fear Hermione might see and reflect on her own grade.
"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL," said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them, passing back their homework. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in the examination."
Harry watched Snape, studying his features, averse as he was to the complications this would bring forth. What was he trying to tell him? Was this a warning or was it a compliment? Or then again was it merely Snape simply not wishing for Harry to excel in his subject?
As the potions master swept past him on his way to the front Harry's eyes swept up his figure to underline the curve of his neck, blissfully unmarred, and tried not to overthink the cryptic note.
He didn't hear a word of what the Professor was saying, focused as he was on the man. Was Snape perhaps warning Harry not to draw unwanted attention by speaking with him?
Harry knew that come second term he would have to attend 'remedial potions' even if Snape didn't yet. Remark or no, he couldn't afford to be good in Potions right now.
In the end, he decided to proceed with his original plan and by the end of the class, he had managed to mess up his potion marvelously.
Snape smirked while vanishing the contents of his cauldron, effectively deeming him worthy of a zero. The gleeful expression his professor wore afterwards was definitely worth it, as was any chance to distract the man from more serious thoughts.
The next few weeks passed dully compared to the first and the only good thing about them was that he no longer had detention with Umbridge. But of course, the pink monstrosity was determined not to leave him unattended or, Merlin forbid, happy about something.
Sure thing, she was there for his next Potions class. Neville's outburst towards Crab and Goyle had again cost them ten miserable points but Harry suspected this particular deduction was nothing more than Snape venting his frustration at being supervised.
Harry, Ron and Hermione took their usual seats at the back of the class, pulled out parchment, quills and their copies of 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi'. The class around them was whispering about what Neville had just done, but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang, everybody immediately fell silent.
"You will notice," said Snape, in his low, contemptuous voice, "that we have a guest with us today."
He gestured towards the dim corner of the dungeon and Harry saw Professor Umbridge sitting there, clipboard on her knee.
He leafed through his book wondering vaguely if Snape would further vent his frustration on him in the next hour. He chanced a glance towards his professor and decided it would be for the best.
"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend – instructions –" he waved his wand again "– on the board. Carry on."
Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner.
Harry was decidedly intent on not letting Hermione correct him and making his potion passable in the process. Sometimes she really was way out of line.
"Salamander blood, Harry!" Hermione moaned, grabbing his wrist to prevent him adding the wrong ingredient for the third time, "not pomegranate juice!"
Harry ignored her with determination, focused on Umbridge instead.
"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," she said briskly to Snape's back. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."
Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.
Harry who knew perfectly well by now how much Snape hated being in the center of attention, especially when the Ministry was involved, tensed in his seat, searching wildly for something to do. He couldn't just go and blow up his cauldron, could he?
"Now…how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over herclipboard.
"Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. Harry, watching him closely, added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange.
"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?"
"Yes," said Snape quietly.
But then again what was wrong with a tiny disruption?
"But you were unsuccessful?"
Harry tipped the rest of the bottle he was holding straight in the cauldron. Unsurprisingly, a swift explosion ensued.
.
Snape tensed and turned instantly in his direction. Harry, hands on the back of his head, was resting his feet at the top of the table, smirking arrogantly at Umbridge while everyone stared at him. He'd be damned if the pink monster decided this was due to Snape's lack of teaching skills.
" . .Potter?", Snape ground out crossing the classroom to loom above him threateningly. Harry flinched at the sudden change of proximity but remained apparently unabashed.
"I think I put a bit too much dragon blood in my potion professor.", he answered calmly still staring at Umbridge who was giving him a calculating look.
"How much?", asked Snape slowly and something in his voice made Harry turn his head. A big mistake which made him change his stance to the appropriate one for the classroom in impossibly little time. Snape looked murderous.
"The whole bottle.", he answered closing his eyes and readying himself for any amount of shouting that would ensue.
"Stay after class.", his voice was so low and dangerous, Harry would have smiled if it weren't for the consequences of Umbridge being present.
As it was, Harry let Snape vanish the contents of his cauldron and started reading the last few chapters of his potions book. He didn't miss Umbridge's next question however.
"Is that how he normally acts in this class?"
"It isn't a precedent.", Snape ground out.
"There, there, Snape.", she patted him on the back with a small smile. "There are some hopeless cases, I'm sure it's not a question of your teaching abilities. As I've said, the class is fairly advanced…"
Harry tried hard not to smirk. He couldn't believe it worked so quickly, but as Umbridge refrained from interrogating him further and swept instead to where Pansy Parkinson stood, he relaxed.
Snape however, glared venomously at him for the better part of the next hour so Harry expected when they were alone next he'd lash out on him full-force. When nothing of the sort followed, he was suitably perplexed.
"Your detention will be tonight at six o'clock. You may leave.", was all Snape said.
Harry couldn't possibly leave to the 'I wish you were dead' look of his professor.
"You realize why I did it."
"You fancied causing me to be put on probation? Oh, wouldn't you love seeing me lose my job!"
Harry lifted an eyebrow.
"You were put on probation?", he smirked.
"Not yet.", hissed Snape.
"Oh come on, sir!", he slumped to the back of the chair. "She hates me so much you're practically her favorite person in the school right now."
Snape narrowed his eyes and continued glaring at him. Now this was unwarranted.
"Have I ever lied to you?"
The Potions Master seemed taken aback.
"This is no excuse for you to blow up your cauldron. Again, Potter."
"Give me a second detention then.", replied Harry smiling now. "Or duck a hundred points.", something in Snape's expression though caused him to backtrack. "I'm sorry. I'm being impertinent. I just couldn't help it –"
"Oh, brilliant, Potter! You couldn't help causing an explosion! You could have brewed this potion in your second year with eyes closed –"
"I can't stand her foolish smugness, are you satisfied now? She comes down here, thinking she owns the place and starts interrogating you as if you were –", Harry stopped himself as all expression vanished from the Potions Master's face and he simply stared at him. Harry sighed deeply and bent forward, head resting in his hands upon the desk, staring at the wood below. "Perhaps it would have been best if I did nothing but it's hard staying cool-headed in her presence after our time spent together in detention. Self-control isn't my forte,", he glanced up to check if Snape was alright and felt a dull pang when he met his stare. "My verdict, sir?"
The Potions Master cleared his throat uncharacteristically.
"It will be delivered six o'clock in my office."
Harry didn't wait to be shooed away this time, though he itched to ask what was wrong.
In the evening, with less trepidation than usual for his detention, Harry stepped through the door of Snape's office a minute early. He knew by now earliness was punished by making the person wait about a quarter of an hour till the Potions Master so much as noticed his presence, so he sat down at the chair on the opposite side of the desk and watched him scribble with red ink along the length of an essay.
It was amazing how a person's appearance could change according to one's assumptions. Snape wasn't any different from the last time, Harry was certain of this and yet he seemed – elegant, even graceful to him now. So much in fact that he felt uneasy sitting there, not moving and just watching him, concentrated, as he was, on his scathing comments. With only a couple of minutes passed Harry was already immersed in his own little world, staring unseeingly at the long fingers holding the edge of the page. Afraid what Snape could see in his eyes once he lifted his head, he tore his gaze away from the man, jumping slightly when he was addressed at last.
"Come along then.", he said and led Harry to the lab in the adjacent room. "Pain relievers for the hospital wing, Potter.", he announced. "I trust you'll pay attention to your actions."
"You – you do, sir?", Harry asked toying with a root on the table.
"Is there a problem?", Snape asked daring him to object.
"Well I haven't brewed a stable potion since –", he couldn't remember when exactly. "A long time ago, sir. How can you trust me with this?"
"How much dragon blood did you put in your potion today?"
"About thirty five drops more than necessary.", Harry ventured, surprising himself.
"My point exactly.", Snape smirked. "Now get to work. I'll be monitoring your progress."
Harry would have liked to brew at least two cauldrons at once but since he was out of practice, felt he should first see how one at a time would fair. The first attempt was easy enough and as it earned Snape's approving nod, Harry continued with the next two simultaneously while his professor brewed some antidote right next to him. It was a bit of a challenge making an important potion in such close proximity to the constant distraction that was Snape and it got him a mild headache.
"Enough.", the Potions Master said quietly after the third one to indicate he wasn't supposed to begin with another.
Harry glanced at the clock and saw that only an hour had passed, so he turned to Snape.
"Do you want me to do something else now?"
"Yes," Snape managed distractedly. "Blood replenishing potion. The notes are on the desk. On-", he lifted his head to asses Harry's position only to find him lurking over the edge of the same cauldron. "Your left.", he finished coldly and Harry immediately stepped back, taking hold of the paper. "You'll find all the ingredients in my store. Don't dawdle."
"You trust me not to steal from your stores?"
"I cannot trust and suspect you at the same time, Potter, pick one point you'd like better.", Snape snapped angrily and Harry smiled broadly though nobody saw.
"I never thought you'd come to trust me, sir."
"I trust you with potions ingredients, Potter, not with my life!"
"You trust nobody with your life.", he replied after a moment's consideration.
"True enough.", Snape conceded.
They continued brewing in silence for a long time after this until Harry decided he felt brave enough.
"Sir?"
"Yes?"
"May I use the Potions classroom after classes?"
Snape almost halted, then continued the aborted clockwise motion.
"Whatever for?"
"I wanted to practice the year's curriculum for the OWLs."
The Potions Master continued to stir his potion in silence for a few long moments.
"You may not."
"Okay."
"Students are not allowed to brew unsupervised." For whatever reason Snape decided to clear it up a few moments later.
"I see.", Harry replied trying not to sound disappointed.
In the consequent month Harry diligently botched every single one of his potions and Snape, consistent in his attitude, scribbled zeroes and assigned him detentions in which he made him brew various concoctions, mainly medicinal and/or off the regular curriculum. Glad as Harry was even with his overloaded timetable, the close proximity to Snape made him realize that with every passing week something was seriously off with the potions master.
"Is everything alright, sir?", he'd chanced at last. "You seem a bit –"
"I'm perfectly fine, Potter! Keep your eyes to your potion now."
"You're not perfectly fine. Something's been bothering you, I can tell.", he insisted.
"And what are you imagining is this thing which is bothering me?", Snape snapped.
"Well,", Harry took his time adding a pinch of powdered valerian root to the contents of his cauldron. "Obviously in school everything's normal at the moment, unless it's something to do with Umbridge, which I doubt. So that leaves the Order."
"As infallible as your skills of deduction may seem to you, and since I'm fine, you're perfectly wrong. Now be quiet."
"Then it's me.", Harry went on as if he didn't hear him.
"Meaning?", Snape muttered reluctantly.
"I'm exhausting you.", the Potions Master said nothing.
November and December passed quickly for Harry, who'd thought and decided Snape was due a well-deserved rest from him. Who knew what Christmas break would bring in the Potions Master life after all. The fact that Voldemort obviously refrained from summoning him through the school year, didn't mean he'd continue to do so when Snape wasn't supposed to be teaching.
So, in giving the man break, Harry spent most of his free time assessing the past months. He was fairly certain Snape started trusting him after the ordeal with his godfather back at twelve Grimmauld Place. It was strange though as the last time (of which Harry had knowledge) someone had defended Snape, that person had ended up hurt by Severus himself. Nevertheless, it seemed this was the point of turning as the Potions Master didn't so much as sneer at him nowadays. Perhaps this was his answer; perhaps Snape no longer knew how to act around him. If this was it, it was a nice improvement.
He was glad to be with Sirius on Christmas break despite everything else so he made his godfather stay with him for most of the time telling him tales of the old days.
Nighttime of course was especially reserved for Snape and the strange mixture of nightmares he now had about him. The contents of his head were so messed up these days that when he woke up, he wasn't sure anymore if it had been a good or a bad dream – or the definitions of those as a matter of fact. The only bothersome thing these days was that 'Snape' was rapidly turning into 'Severus' in his head.
As fascinating as dreaming about the same person over and over was, it wasn't until a week of his arrival there that he finally saw him again in real life.
He pushed open the kitchen door to find Sirius and Snape both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike. A letter lay open on the table in front of Sirius.
"Hello, sir," said Harry, to announce his presence.
Snape looked around at him.
"Sit down, Potter."
"You know," said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."
An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table. He was going to have a headache.
"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, "but Black –"
"Sir!" he interrupted. "If you please, your reason…business…whatever…"
"The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."
Harry nodded curtly frowning a bit.
"You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?" said Snape smoothly.
"Yes,"
"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" asked Sirius aggressively. "Why you?"
"I suggest you ask him this question," said Snape silkily and got to his feet. "I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."
Harry sighed as Snape turned to leave but his godfather didn't let him get far. He got the idea that with these two things have always escalated quickly and he couldn't even make himself listen to the actual content of the exchanged insults until of course the verbal assault threatened to turn into a duel.
Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he went. Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius's wand-tip to his face.
"Stop this at once!", Harry yelled at the Potions Master emerging between the both of them. "How – ah!", he sighed in frustration as he realized he was about to insult Severus. "Please leave now, sir, before we all say something we'll regret later. I'll be in your office on Monday evening at six o'clock sharp."
Snape nodded once and took his leave just as the others stepped in.
"Shut the door behind you, Potter." Harry did as he was told with an ominous feeling which had something to do with the cold voice of his professor. He went on and sat at the only available chair across from Snape, who in turn stood up. What on earth had he done for Snape to act like – well, his normal self, he had no idea.
"Well, Potter, you know why you are here," he said. "The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency."
To this Harry nodded. Snape continued to survey him through narrowed eyes for a moment, then said, "Now, Occlumency. As I assume you already know, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence."
"Yes, sir. I understand I am to learn Occlumency in an effort to stop – the Dark Lord's intrusion in my mind as for some reason he has access even at the considerable distance. If he ever proceeds to using this connection not only I would be vulnerable. So by all means, let's start.", Harry said in what he hoped was the calm tone of a well-adjusted person.
The potions master narrowed his eyes studying him before proceeding to remove four distinct memories from his mind, putting them in the pensieve instead. Harry knew by now that if it was possible for him to put them all there to safeguard, he would not hesitate to do it.
"Stand up and take out your wand, Potter."
As Harry knew it was coming he braced himself for the first real trial of his diversion abilities and while forcing a wall to stand in the way (which was by far the easier part), he pushed through the memories he wanted seen.
He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy…he was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn…he was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin…Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair…a hundred Dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake…Cho Chang was drawing nearer to him under the mistletoe…
"No," said a voice inside Harry's head, as the memory of Cho drew nearer.He didn't mean for Snape to see this one as it was about eight years old and from the original time-line. He never had to kiss Cho this time as fate had allowed him to simply console her instead. He was losing control over his own wall too quickly after all this time and practice and it frustrated him so much that he tugged at the mental wall and in bursting it to pieces, fought off Snape too.
It was too dangerous to play this game with Snape, as the man could clearly see too much, too easily. He looked up at Severus, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark.
"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" asked Snape coolly.
"No," said Harry bitterly.
"I thought not," said Snape, watching him closely. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."
"Indeed I did.", he admitted with a sigh. This was going to be even harder than he thought.
"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," said Snape, raising his wand once more. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."
"I'm trying," said Harry softly, "but I could feel my wall crack and let out certain things. Then I got frustrated…"
"Close your eyes."
This is not a good idea, Harry thought bud did as he was told.
"Clear your mind, Potter," said Snape's cold voice. "Let go of all emotion…"
Why this cold voice though? What was Snape angry at him about? Couldn't he see that –
"You're not doing it, Potter…you will need more discipline than this…focus, now…"
"Please, sir, I'm trying, but –"
"But what?"
"Have I done something to offend you again?"
"What?", Snape spat.
"You haven't treated me this way for a long time. And I find it – frustrating.", he admitted.
"What are you blabbing on about –"
"You sound as though you'd rather be anywhere else –"
"Maybe that's because it's how I feel right now.
"Ah, I see.", Harry replied, staring at the Potions Master. "But still I need your help right now. It is in fact imperative that you assist me in this."
"That is what I'm trying to do, Potter! Now. Let's go again…on the count of three…one – two – three –Legilimens!"
Harry braced himself as he attempted to repeat the procedure.
Once again, upon Snape fishing out the memory of Cedric dying out of him, Harry found himself on his knees, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull.
"Get up!" said Snape sharply. "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort. You are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"
"I – am – making – an – effort," he said through clenched teeth.
"I told you to empty yourself of emotion!"
"You think it's that easy?" Harry yelled. "I can't –"
"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" said Snape savagely. "Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily – weak people, in other words – they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"
"I am not weak," Harry breathed trying to calm down. What Severus was saying was not supposed to be hurtful but helpful, he reminded himself with determination. Perhaps this had been the way he learned the skill.
"Then prove it! Master yourself!" spat Snape. "Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!"
Trying again and again to do the same when he simply didn't understand where he'd made a mistake, didn't seem productive. On theory, it should have worked easily and it did at first but – maybe he was supposed to show those things? No. He'd have felt the gut feeling already. No. For now he was going to show Severus, he could shield his mind.
When next nothing happened, Harry frowned trying to make sure Snape had even attempted it. The Potions Master simply stared at him for a moment.
"That's – an improvement."
"Yeah, sure.", muttered Harry resentfully. "You can go again."
Half an hour later Snape reached to brush a drop from his forehead and Harry sighed.
"Would you tell me now or should I attempt to master Legilimency too? I guess it wouldn't be that hard in your present state."
"Don't you dare try anything on me!"
"Do you really think I would?", Harry asked exasperated. "I'm sorry, sir, for whatever it is I've said or done. It would have sounded more sincere if I actually knew what it was but still if there's anything I can –"
"You are dismissed." The man said with finality.
Next Monday in Potions Harry watched the man go about his business, wondering if he would act the same way towards him as last week. It was easy for Snape to ignore him for the most part when the room was filled with other students but when they were alone, it would show. He had the distinct feeling of whiplash with the way the Potions Master changed his attitude so rapidly.
That evening Snape was fouler to him even as Harry successively blocked two consecutive attempts. In the end he decided to try again improving what he actually needed and in the meantime showing Snape what he was so averse to see.
Harry was back in his first year: "What have I done to deserve your hatred?"
Then Harry in his second year:
"Sir!", Harry tried several times to no avail till finally, "SHUT UP!"
Snape stared him like he'd just realized he wasn't alone in the room.
"Please, sir, sit down and rest for a few minutes. I'll manage."
And again Harry in his third year:
"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." Harry concluded and sighed. "But that last bit is a lie, I admit. Pathetic Harry Potter actually cares for one person. And that one person is luckily the same he gets to disappoint on every step he takes."
Harry's fourth year was next and he tugged at his wall as it was about to crack again. It wouldn't do to happen now.
"I know 'sorry' isn't enough. If it was, I wouldn't be here. But I am. And I am sorry. I wish I could do something more than say that, but there is no use since I'm perfectly aware what a joy it is to be able to hate me with a clear conscience."
"I expected better.", Snape conceded.
"Ah,", Harry smiled. "I live to disappoint.",
And then the wall really cracked letting through a final memory where Harry merely looked away, his face pained as Dumbledore wished Snape 'good luck' before sending him to the Dark Lord.
Harry panted kneeling to regain his control over his mind. This time it lasted longer it seemed but this was far from important right now.
"You did it on purpose.", Snape's voice was low and soft now and Harry shivered slightly but hurried to straighten.
"Damn right, I did it on purpose.", he muttered still lower.
"Sit down. You've exhausted yourself."
Harry stared disbelievingly at the command but complied nonetheless and heaved a deep sigh.
"That last one though wasn't supposed to come out at all. It just came through the crack."
"The crack – in the wall you were speaking of last time?", Snape enquired. "Is that how you visualize your blocking?"
"Yes." He admitted.
"It's rather crude. You might want to try a slightly different approach."
Harry snapped up to stare at him. Snape was talking to him – advising him – calmly. Were the memories sufficient to produce this result?
"Yeah? Like what?"
"I don't know, it's your mind after all. I for one visualize a kind of a bubble."
"A bubble.", Harry repeated bluntly.
"Yes, Potter, a bubble.", Snape said a bit impatiently. "You know the properties of a bubble. If it bursts everything goes haywire so your job is to never allow it. Rather like a shield charm when pushed but like a levitation spell when controlled. One moment of distraction is enough for the object to fall on the ground."
"By distraction you mean an emotion… a weakness.", he said thoughtful for a second. "I see. A bubble. But isn't that dangerous? Isn't it better to let just one go out than –"
"It is dangerous. That's what makes it effective for me I think."
"I'd try but –"
"Yes?"
"I can't – I can't allow you to see certain things, sir. If I were allowed – to use the pensieve, I think it could help."
Snape seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded.
Now this might just work out, Harry thought.
Harry tried to act on the prolonged beneficial behavior Severus had adopted since Monday, so on Wednesday in the break between two sessions he asked what he had meant to ask since his first year.
"Sir, may I ask you something?"
"Speak up then and we shall see."
Indeed, thought Harry and sat in his usual chair a bit stiffly.
"Mr. Weasley, do you know how he was treated after getting bitten?"
"I don't know the particulars but the principle is clear enough."
His answer much too vague to Harry's liking, he pressed further.
"I want to learn how to make antidote to Nagini's venom, sir."
Snape stared at him transfixed. It seemed he couldn't place this request at all.
"For what purposes, Potter?"
"In case – in case what happened repeats itself, sir. I'd never forgive myself if I let someone whom I could save, die in front of me."
"This is not St. Mungo's and the potion you're speaking of is so far from the regular curriculum I doubt the Ministry would ever give you permission to study it."
"What?", Harry straightened in his chair not believing his years. "To hell with the Ministry! I'd understand if you'd said you didn't have the time or the energy to deal with me yet more than you have to now and I'd back down immediately. But for you to try to affirm your position with the norms set by the Ministry – "
"Stop blabbing, Potter. Why do you insist anyway? It's an off chance that Nagini will bite someone again."
"I know I might be asking too much and I can't make a good argument out of it. All I can say is that this is perhaps the most important thing to me right now. Not just the antidote, but the notion that I can actually do something to help if it's needed. It's not like it's the only thing I need to know, but I must take precautions if I'm to survive and help others too. The war is just around the corner and I feel I must use however much peaceful time is left to get ready for it."
Snape seemed amused to Harry's astonishment..
"You can't make a good argument, you say. Indeed. Alright, Potter, I'll indulge your hero complex this time. Let's see – if we are to do this we're going to need to spend an hour on it twice a week. I should warn you it's not an easy and quick to make potion."
Harry nodded eagerly, not quite believing he'd succeeded in his persuasion.
"Thank you, sir. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Don't be so quick to thank me, Potter. I haven't even told you my price yet." he smirked.
"Price? What is your price?"
"Well you see, since my time would be further narrowed by this whim of yours, I won't be able to deal with both grading students' papers and restocking the potions for the hospital wing."
Harry waited but nothing more was said.
"So you want me to do - which of them?"
"Both.", Snape sneered. "I'll expect you to be grading Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's essays and deal with the simpler potions – the ones we've already covered."
"But I don't have the right to grade – "
"It's a liability for me as well.", Severus admitted alluding Harry thought to something further than the legality of the action. "As for the right – you have as much right to grade papers as I to teach you how to make the antidote."
"If – if you think I can cope, I'll be glad to help.", answered Harry somewhat dizzy with the complications of this arrangement. "You'll check the potions before they're delivered though, won't you?"
Snape glared at him and Harry nodded quickly.
"Okay, as we've reached an agreement on this point, I suggest we now occupy ourselves with the task at hand."
To this, they both stood and Harry sighed. This bubble thing, as much, as it seemed to work with Snape, was doing a tap dance on his nerves to such a degree that he thought he'd be lucky if he managed to pass his twenties without a heart attack. Every time Snape pushed further, Harry felt like being confronted with a dragon, even though he knew his more precious memories were safe in the confinements of the pensieve. As it was, he could sustain the bubble for less than two minutes before it burst and showered the Potions Master. The benefit of this approach was of course that the more the memories, the more chaotic the interference which gave him time to withdraw and not give any real information. Could he use that with Voldemort inside though? Somehow he doubted it.
"Don't forget to – "
"I know." Harry interrupted for he already knew the speech by heart. "Clear my mind of all emotions every night before I go to bed." You have no idea how depriving this is for a fifteen year old, he thought spitefully. But then again perhaps Snape knew too well.
Three weeks had passed and Harry's life was in a stage more complicated than ever. He'd spent almost every day around the dungeons, grading essays, making potions, practicing Occlumency and most importantly, learning how to brew the antidote for Nagini's venom. Every evening and spare minute, he'd spent in mulling over the steps he'd learnt towards the antidote.
Meanwhile, he'd just given the interview the past weekend and its popularity was at its peak, which also meant the end of the DA club was near.
So far, so good, thought Harry who had started realizing he was getting rapidly addicted to the presence of the Potions Master. And though he knew the time was coming when their fragile peace would burst much like his mental bubble, he couldn't help but enjoy seeing Severus daily almost as much as he enjoyed feeling productive at last. He found himself distracted more and more throughout the day, looking too attentively at Snape, catching himself only to lose the battle again when stray thoughts led him back to the Potions Master.
They had a tradition by now. Harry would find new ingenious ways to botch his potion just so, and by the end of the class Snape would come through to his cauldron to put a scathing remark to a set of zeroes on the list next to his name. It was all the same to him though, and it seemed that to the professor too as the latter never mentioned anything about his performance in class when they were alone.
But there was another side to this situation that Harry, even as infatuated as he was, couldn't help but notice. His newfound feelings didn't stand a chance with the Potions Master. There was the obvious error of the age difference for one, Snape's unpronounced but definite preferences to name another, and of course Harry's family. Even without the first two, the last item was enough to rob him of any hope he might have had. He looked like his father, whom Snape hated all his life, and a bit like his mother, whom he'd loved for longer than life itself it seemed. The only conclusion Harry could reach, was that for the Potions Master he was no person at all but a fusion of two, whose contrast served to drive him crazy just as much as it did Harry. Whatever he did, good or bad; whatever he said, smart or stupid; however he felt on the inside, he was either James or Lily, it seemed, and never Harry. It must have been mutual subconscious understanding they'd made to play those roles, him and Snape, but that didn't help. He could appreciate now just how little control he really had over himself as well as over the situation and he didn't bother try changing it, for he was sure it would prove impossible. Other things however were not, and on them he concentrated with all the effort he could muster.
It was because of hard work and nothing else that by the forth week, he could make the antidote without the need of interference.
"Adequate.", Severus pronounced his judgment and the word sounded like a thousand 'perfect's coming from his mouth so Harry beamed, glad he was a step closer now to his final goal.
"I'm glad.", he replied and thought he heard a 'Hm!' from his professor beside him. "I could still help with the grading and the potions if you need – "
"Definitely not.", Snape snapped and practically shooed him from his private lab.
All the good things would come to end, Harry knew but that notion didn't console him when the fragile peace was finally lost. As it happened, just after the headmaster left Hogwarts, he was fairly certain Snape's attitude had changed for this reason. However, when it came to the Potions Master, Harry could be certain of nothing.
"Six weeks and this is the best you've got, Potter?" he snarled at him after a particularly long session. "Five pushes and that's it? Deflate that arrogant big head of yours and control yourself better!"
"I'M TRYING!" Harry shouted exasperated. "I need a break.", he pleaded. "Just a short one and – "
"A break is it that you need, Potter? But of course, this is perfect. You could always stop in the middle of a fight with the Dark Lord and ask for a break – just a short one", he mocked, a vein on his temple pulsing now and betraying his boiling anger. "Get up! Legili-"
"Protego!", Harry shouted at the same time and remembered suddenly this had already happened once before.
Then again he saw a hook-nosed man shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner…a greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies…a girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick –
"ENOUGH!"
Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he staggered several steps backwards, hit some of the shelves covering Snape's walls and heard something crack. Snape was shaking slightly, and was very white in the face.
Was this coincidence? Was it what Severus had been thinking of or was it – perhaps fate?
The back of Harry's robes was damp. One of the jars behind him had broken when he fell against it; the pickled slimy thing within was swirling in its draining potion.
"Reparo," hissed Snape, and the jar sealed itself at once."What – do you think you're doing, Potter?"
"I couldn't think of anything else to stop you, I'm sorry I really didn't mean to do this. I'm on the edge as it is with everything that's happened and with you pushing me further and further I didn't think."
Snape watched him through narrowed eyes.
"Have you ever?"
"Look, I did what I had to. What felt right.", Harry replied thinking more of the DA than Occlumency lessons. It was after all what he thought Snape tried to imply. "If it was question of fault, I could take it, but it is not. This was prone to happen with or without my 'mistake' sooner or later."
Snape sneered to this and crossed his arms.
"Go to your dorm, Potter. It's almost curfew."
"Yes, sir."
That didn't make it all better of course. For Harry knew well enough his performance wasn't good enough yet to stand any chance against Voldemort's and he was running out of time. This made him forsake all the bubbles in the world in the hope that if a memory went past his wall it wouldn't be a crucial one. After all it was either one or all with his current abilities.
"Sir?"
"What?", Snape hissed – his usual behavior once again back.
"My line of thoughts – it determines which memories are pulled, yes? I mean, when I pull several out myself, the one that comes by the attack is most likely to be of consequence to the others, isn't it?"
"How astute of you to finally notice a thread of logic." His sarcasm dripped. "Most likely yes, but you can never be certain for it depends on the intention of caster too."
"And if I don't try to fight back? Would the memories you see be the ones that are on my mind at the moment or would they be random?"
"The more accomplished the Legilimens, the better chance there is that your memories would arrange themselves to his intent or, so to speak, to show him that which he is searching for."
So Snape's intent back then had been to humiliate him into concentration. That was certainly a revelation.
In the next instant Harry found himself locked in his mind watching a young Snape shout at him that it was all his fault. The moment he realized the Potions Master had casted the spell, he blocked him out and projected a different memory – one of Dumbledore telling him what he saw in Erised was himself with a pair of new socks. He knew this wasn't fast enough though, even before Snape withdrew.
"What was that?"
Narrowing his eyes at the insulting tone in the three words, Harry stood up.
"What could it possibly be but a nightmare – sir."
They glared at each other for a long moment before the practice resumed.
Snape's office door banged open and Draco Malfoy sped in.
"Professor Snape, sir – oh – sorry –"
Malfoy was looking at Snape and Harry in some surprise.
"It's all right, Draco," said Snape, lowering his w and. "Potter is here for a little remedial Potions." .
"I didn't know," he said, leering at Harry.
"Well, Draco, what is it?" asked Snape.
"It's Professor Umbridge, sir – she needs your help," said Malfoy. "They've found Montague, sir, he's turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor."
"How did he get in there?" demanded Snape.
"I don't know, sir, he's a bit confused."
"Very well, very well. Potter," said Snape, "we shall resume this lesson tomorrow evening." He turned and swept from his office.
So this was it. The final straw which previously had served to drive Snape mad enough to end their lessons. And as much as Harry didn't want to, he knew he had no choice but to once again see the OWLs memory.
Next thing he knew, a hand had closed tight over his upper arm, closed with a pincer-like grip. Wincing, Harry looked round to see a fully grown, adult-sized Snape standing right beside him, white with rage.
"Having fun?…So," said Snape, gripping Harry's arm so tightly Harry's hand was starting to feel numb. "So… been enjoying yourself, Potter?"
"Of course not!", hissed Harry through clenched teeth.
Snape's lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared.
"Amusing man, your father, wasn't he?" said Snape, shaking Harry so hard his glasses slipped down his nose.
Harry's hand lifted to gently cup Snape's on his other arm and stared in the sparkling black eyes.
"You really think I'd laugh at you don't you? That I'd mock you?"
"You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!" Snape hissed. "You will get out and you won't return. Ever." He shook him by the arm completely ignoring Harry's grip on his hand. "Do you understand?"
"No. I can't do that."
"Oh yes you can and you will, Potter!", he almost yelled in his face.
"No. Hurt me, curse me if you want to, but I must stay where I am. I must perfect Occlumency, sir. I can't stop coming here before that.", Harry barely whispered now.
"You've had your chance. I have nothing more to teach you.", growled Snape still lower.
"Control your emotions, sir. I can't go away no matter how much you may need me to. If we leave it as it is, not I but you are going to be at greater risk." If he sees how important you are to me he'll try using you to get to me, he thought desperate for the right words.
"I can take care of myself, Potter!", Snape spat. "Besides what is it to you?"
"You really don't know, do you? Don't you understand that if you were, even now, to tell me that you wanted to take me to him, I'd come with you without a word of objection?"
Snape let Harry's arm free so abruptly he stumbled on his knees to the stone floor.
"Leave now Potter before I lose what little self-restraint I've got left", he growled all his features contorted in something suspiciously akin to disgust.
"Lose it I don't care.", Harry replied softly still down with eyes on the stone below him and a hand massaging the arm back to life. "It makes no difference if you hate me or tolerate me. Moreover it doesn't matter what you do or say. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your impact on my life and I know I can hate you just as much as you can let me die."
"What are you talking about?", roared Snape outraged and Harry lifted his head to see his professor trembling slightly with a hand gripping the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles were white.
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about.", he replied calmly and slowly stood up. "And if the Dark Lord does what I strongly suspect he intends, he'll find out enough to know what to do in order to destroy both you and me along with the wizarding society and I won't be able to do a thing."
Snape's eyes darted to the pensieve and Harry nodded.
"What is it that you know?"
"It isn't for you to know, sir. And I couldn't tell you if I wished. This isn't a matter of 'what' now. You'll know eventually. The question is whether, after all those years, you've learned to trust me with more than a potion."
The whole night Harry's nightmares varied and merged better to suit the pain in his upper arm. Now he was not only being accused of everything he ever have felt guilty for, but he was also chased and consequently caught and pushed to the wall figuratively as well as literally.
When he woke up, it was the middle of the night and he was covered in sweat. Nevertheless there were some positive sides to the turn of events. For one, he no longer felt like the helpless little schoolboy he was afraid he was turning into. Also there was a renewed determination in him to face whatever obstacles decided to stand in his way, even if one of the obstacles was Severus himself. Despite that however, it was not a small feat passing the week without information about Snape's decision of their lessons.
With next Monday came Potions class and with that, a Potions Master as vile as ever. Harry, who didn't really want to confront him right now, worked diligently on his potion for the duration of the hour. That, of course, didn't stop Severus glare in his general direction for the better part of the class.
The hour ended too soon and just as he was about to stand and exit the room, Snape closed the distance between them.
"Sit down, Potter.", he said glowering and as Harry waited for the others to clear out, he evened the glare. Snape eyed him warily before returning to his desk and finally speaking.
"You missed your Wednesday appointment, Potter, and here I was about to take you seriously when you said it was imperative that you continue."
"It is!", Harry started but shut up almost immediately. Did that mean what he thought it meant?
"Well, then I would suggest you miss no more of them at least till the end of the year."
"Yes, sir.", Harry nodded not sure if the conversation was yet dead.
"Go now before I change my mind.", the Potions Master said softly and Harry sprang to his feet to comply.
"I want your word, Potter, that you will never again look at the memories in the pensieve. Otherwise there will be no more lessons."
Harry sighed. He had expected Severus would need some sort of reassurance but he never thought his word would be worth enough.
"Of course, sir. I will never again look in the memories you choose to put in the pensieve, unless of course, if you give me permission to do so."
Snape narrowed his eyes but nodded after a second. From then they resumed as though nothing at all had happened. Harry didn't know if this was a good or not.
In a few short weeks Harry had improved rapidly and was now able to hold off every attempt the Potions Master made and consequently push him out before his resistance broke. The sessions became something of a mutual enjoyment as it was Harry's habit by now to choose to show Snape memories which he knew the professor would enjoy seeing. From his responses meanwhile, Harry gathered more and more information about Snape's disposition towards various mutual acquaintances. He now knew that Severus enjoyed seeing Umbridge red in the face almost as much as he liked Sirius's distress. As for Minerva McGonagall, even though he snorted at seeing her shouting about in her night-gown, it was obvious he held some level of respect for her as a colleague. It was obvious now that Severus' disgust with Remus was a cover for his fear of the werewolf and he detested both Death Eater Moody and the real one almost equally.
As their sessions progressed, Harry decided to experiment and show him some of his memories with the Dursleys, particularly those two where Dudley encountered magic first-hand. Snape's reaction was entirely unexpected and Harry almost jumped as he heard the unfamiliar sound of his professor's laughter. There's always a first, Harry guessed and reasoned that laughing was a normal thing to do and perhaps Severus had done it at least several times before. Still it was a shock.
"Sir?"
It took several attempts for Snape to compose himself but finally he managed after a minute or so.
"I beg your pardon, I simply never imagined – ah,"
"You never imagined – what exactly?", tried Harry.
Severus eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged.
"The spawn of Petunia Evans – that's what."
It was Harry's turn to eye him. He didn't think this would be the outcome of his little share of memories but wasn't about to let it go either.
"You knew my aunt, sir?"
"Yes, I – have met her a few times in my past.", he admitted while Harry watched for any indication of tension on his face.
"But how? I mean she's a muggle.", he tried.
Snape squeezed his mouth in a tight line and let his eyes wander slowly around the shelves as if searching for an answer in one of the jars adorning the walls.
"We were neighbors – as kids."
"I see,", Harry replied somewhat thoughtfully. He didn't want to push him too deep in revelations. It didn't seem the right thing somehow. Then Snape glared at him and he frowned.
"I also knew your mother.", he said as though he knew Harry was feigning ignorance.
"I know you did. You were the same year in Hogwarts.", he tried.
"Ah yes, it's as simple as that."
"You called her a mud – "
"Oh, do shut up, Potter. It is one thing to go on a journey down memory lane, and quite another to accuse me of something which you don't understand." Harry smiled to this. "What?"
"So there is more to it. You never meant to call her that."
"Of course I never meant it.", he huffed. "She was my best friend –"
Harry smiled skeptically.
"No she wasn't." Snape stared at him. "If one of my best friends nearly laughed when I was being humiliated by someone, I'd seriously doubt their sincerity. And also – I can't imagine calling my best friend a mudblood.", he muttered,
The Potions Master scowled.
"That is the reason,", he hissed. "I said you understand nothing of it. It is not a matter which a noble-", he sneered" Gryffindor could understand…. I don't have your reasoning.", he finished the sentence sounding resigned to Harry's ears.
"She was a Gryffindor though.", he replied finally. "Your best friend. It seemed she defended you mostly out of prefect duty. I would have never been able to tell you two were –"
"That's enough, Potter!"
Harry took this to mean it was time for backtracking.
"Sir?"
"What?", he asked warily.
"I'm glad you told me – be it after five years – that you knew her."
The Potions Master narrowed his eyes but when he replied his voice was softer.
"I thought you might as well know now. After all you've already seen how our friendship ended."
"So it did – because of a single wrong word –", Harry said doubtfully.
Snape snorted.
"Of course it wasn't just the word. Your mother and I had chosen to walk on different paths since our first year at school. I think the insult acted like a reminder for this – among other things."
"Ah," Harry sighed not sure how to approach this. "It was the war then."
"I imagine, yes.", Snape replied still softly. Harry stared at him. "What is it now, Potter?"
"I was thinking of the memory. Wondering why it was in the pensieve instead of your mind. I – I'd better shut up."
The Potions Master lifted an eyebrow.
"The best decision you've made all evening, Mr. Potter. And as it is, it's high time for you to return to Gryffindor tower."
Harry spent the rest of the week thinking of the best way to talk to Snape about this. Not that he really wanted to speak about his mother when he was acutely aware the Potions Master still harbored feelings for her. But still, if he could get Snape to trust him with this –.
On Monday morning there was something wrong with the whole Potions class thing. Snape was absent for the most part, and when he was with them, he still wasn't there. Harry was concerned it had something to do with mentioning his mother but didn't dare speak to him until their evening lesson.
"Sir!", he had to call, for Snape was so distracted, he'd forgot to cast the spell on the third time.
"Yes, just a second."
Harry was tempted to quote the speech about seconds and Dark Lords but thought better of it.
"Is something the matter? We could always reschedule for another time – "
"That won't be necessary, Potter.", he snapped and pointed his wand at him.
Harry projected the memory of the past Wednesday and Snape went out of his mind before he had a chance to force him.
"What exactly are you trying to do?"
"I'd much rather talk tonight, sir, if that isn't a problem."
"You're not here to talk, Potter. You're here – "
"So I can watch you stare at me blankly the whole evening? Or should I try Legilimency now?"
As he got no response, Harry frowned and eyed him carefully.
"It is because of what we discussed, isn't it?" that served to bring Snape out of his reverie.
"It's none of your business, Potter."
"Is anything ever?", he muttered to no avail. "I'll be going now, sir. Let me know if Wednesday isn't alright for practice."
As the weeks passed, Snape slowly returned to his normal, bitter but focused self. Harry on the other hand didn't notice this much as the time for the excursion to the Department of Mysteries was just round the corner and he had not one but two major issues to deal with there.
The second one, which he had avoided thinking about till the last moment, served to push him out of his mind as it was the second time he'd seen Sirius die. And as the last time with Sedric, now too he felt certain it was his fault entirely.
The good thing was that after so much practice on the art of Occlumency, the confrontation with Voldemort passed quickly and effortlessly – as he was so distressed with Sirius falling through the veil, the Dark Lord once again fled his mind quickly damaged by what he'd seen there.
But this time the yelling and smashing did not help. Nor could he blame anybody else for if he'd willed himself to say something – anything, it might not have happened. And then had come the terrible guilt with the realization that he hadn't tried, for if Sirius had survived, Harry might no longer be able to save Severus' life. It was simply too much to deal with.
Then his nightmares chose to change and James, Sirius and Lily all yelled at him, were disgusted with him, questioned how he was able of such betrayal, how he could chose Snape over their lives, how he could forgive him so easily and actually love 'Snivellus' of all the available Death Eaters.
So, it was dreaming this when he slept and thinking about the same when he was awake for a week already and Harry chose to wander round the corridors of the castle for the most time, stopping here and there to take a deep breath or sag against a wall and just think. But it was hurtful to think, or to make further plans, when he felt he had already failed everyone who have ever cared about him. And when he managed to really think about what was coming next, it only served to hurt him more, because what was next if not Dumbledore? Yet another victim of his narcissism.
But no, he had tried to reason, they would have died even if he hadn't come back. He couldn't have saved them all. "But you chose to come and save him!", Sirius would yell in his head then. "HIM you'd come back for! I can die, it's no problem, let the slimy little Death Eater enjoy his life."
It was one of those nights, when Harry was sitting in an alcove trying his best not to lose his mind, that he realized he wasn't alone. Turning his head, he saw a shadowy figure leaning against the opposite wall.
"Ah, I thought you'd never notice me, Potter.", the familiar voice said softly.
"What are you doing here, sir?", he asked tiredly.
Snape pushed himself away from the wall and took a few steps forward, towering over Harry.
"Wondering when you'd finally cry your eyes out and get over it of course. The headmaster appointed me with the hideous task of watching you."
"I'm sorry. I'm afraid it won't be that easy."
"Of course it won't.", he replied somewhat harshly and extended his hand towards him. "But you can't be prowling the corridors for the rest of your life either."
Harry took the offered hand and stood reluctantly. It was so much easier not concentrating on the movement of his body, so much easier to sink down –.
"It is what I deserve, you know.", he said calmly. "It's my fault what happened."
"Is this the stupid hero-complex, Potter? You ran off, someone died. Oh what a surprise! What did you think going there in the first place?"
"Shut up!", Harry hissed but at the same time sagged against him, leaving the control over his body. It was too much effort anyways and he was so damn tired.
Snape grabbed him by the arms and tried to hold him up as Harry leaned towards him instead of the wall. Then he lost it completely as his body started to tremble on its own volition.
"I couldn't do anything – I could only watch as he fell – " , his voice was unsteady for it was also too much effort to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes.
"Do shut up, Potter.", Snape said softly. "It is no more your fault than it's mine. I tried to tell him to stay behind and tell the headmaster what had happened, but the fool didn't listen." Those words didn't make much difference to Harry, who barely even heard them now. Over and over in his head he thought of Sirius and James asking if he was happy now that he'd done Snape the favor and finished them off.
" – he was a grown man and made his own choice. There's no one to blame but his killer and him."
"I wish they would stop" Harry muttered.
The Potions Master's hand left one of his arms to lift his head instead and his eyes searched Harry's face.
"Who?"
"I can't...stop thinking what they would say. I keep hearing, over and over –"
"When have you last slept, Potter?"
Harry shook his head miserably, too tired to explain that he couldn't endure falling asleep.
"You need to go to bed right now."
"No, sir, please! I can't sleep, I –"
But Snape had already motioned him forward down the corridor.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Where you can stop wallowing in self pity."
"Oh. Okay."