Harry Potter and Professor Snape went up what seemed like a thousand stairs (Harry was certain he had miscounted along the way). Without warning, Prof. Snape slid to a halt, saying - to absolutely no one, "Sugar Quills." Behind him, Harry shot Prof. Snape a muddled glance, and then he saw the gargoyle moving (well, rotating really), as a staircase came into view. "Up you go." Snape said, his voice flat but not unkind.

Harry Potter didn't want to go (he had a deep feeling of dread in his bones), but Hades help him if he made Snape more mad. So up he went - still breathless, yet keeping to that loping pace that he'd needed to keep up with Snape's "fast walk" (Harry Potter spent a moment to be incensed that Snape could keep up that pace and not be at all out of breath).

Harry Potter reached the top of the stair, and nearly jumped as Snape reached over his head to pound the door with a clenched fist. Blimey, but when he wanted, Snape could do quiet. Harry hadn't heard a single footfall as he went up the stairs (and though Harry was running, he had been trying to be quiet, even though he knew he hadn't managed as Snape had done.)

"Come in, Severus." Headmaster Dumbledore boomed, his voice far louder than Snape's pounding on his door. "Who has done what now?" The Headmaster continued (not waiting for Snape to open the door) with what sounded suspiciously like a sigh, "And in the first week of class too..."

Now Harry really didn't want to go in, but he quickly made up his mind that procrastinating was not an option. He opened the door quickly and wide (so that Snape could step through after), as he walked, standing straight and tall, to the nearest chair, and sat down on the edge of the seat.

"Why, Harry Potter. What a surprise!" Albus Dumbledore said with a genial smile that Harry didn't trust one bit. "Lemon drop?"

"Yes, please," Harry Potter said, taking the small object and palming it before he pretended to pop it into his mouth. Into his pocket it went, and he idly wondered what he'd have to do to get a forensic analysis around here.

"And you, Severus?"

"No, Albus, as usual." The well-trodden voice from behind him nearly made Harry Potter spin - less in absolute surprise, and more by a need to be able to see the parties of the conversation. How was he supposed to pick up anything if he couldn't even see? Harry Potter fought the urge back down, telling himself that he needn't look like a ninny simply because Snape had done something slightly unexpected. Judging by the sound, Snape had taken up residence in the back corner of the room. Harry still wished he could see.

"Now, what seems to be the issue?" Albus Dumbledore said, his geniality taking a temporary backseat to an intense curiosity. Harry Potter would definitely have rather the Headmaster looked like this more often - it seemed, if not more honest, at least less deliberately opaque. A man that was deliberately opaque was definitely hiding something - Harry should know, as he was one himself.

"Tell this unreasonable whelp that I have more important things to do during class than peek into hormonal adolescent minds." Snape snapped.

Shite. Harry thought, his mind going blank - as in literally white. He noticed.

The Headmaster repeated Snape's words word for word, in a rather different tone, "My child, I do assure you that Severus Snape does not spend his time in the classroom looking through young minds under his care. Above and beyond the fact that such conduct is expressly illegal and a grave crime, I assure you I would not have hired anyone who would so disregard a child's privacy, without any reason at all." Harry Potter blinked, deciding that he didn't like that twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes. Not one bit.

The Headmaster's piercing eyes caught Severus Snape's in their talons, "Is there some specific reason Mr. Potter needed to be told this?"

Harry Potter caught the distinct sound of robes rustling, as Snape said snottily, "He has been shouting. Something about pink elephants and purple crocodiles. Tomfoolery, no doubt, but I will not be distracted in my own class."

The Headmaster nodded gravely, saying simply, "You're right of course, that you shouldn't be distracted. Potions class is too dangerous to have the skilled practitioner inattentive." The Headmaster turned his attention to Harry Potter, saying, "You will cease this behavior at once, I trust?"

Harry Potter looked up, and said firmly, "Yes, sir."

"Headmaster," Prof. Snape said coldly, "He'll be serving two detentions for his insolence." That was one way to put it. I wouldn't have done it if I had known he'd pick up on it!

The Headmaster blinked, and said, "Surely that's a little much, Severus? I'm certain that he wasn't trying to distract you."

"You may be, Albus, but I am not. The detention stands. Unless you would like to overrule me without Potter's Head of House present?" Snape snapped.

"Naturally not," the headmaster said, "I am well aware that the forms stand for a reason, as are you. This is neither so severe, nor so time-pressing as to bend the rules to the point of breaking."

There was a pause, and Harry Potter mentally filled in Snape nodding in agreement, as he figured that Snape was the type to speak up if he felt something was wrong or out of sorts.

"Still, though... shouting, at his age..." the Headmaster said contemplatively. Harry sat as still as stone, suddenly wondering exactly how remarkable what he had done was. He really needed to know what he was doing! (well, that and stop doing it).

"Headmaster, you can't possibly think that he's showing a talent for Occulumency. At his age?" Snape scoffed. "And a Potter to boot? I'll eat my own boot if you manage to find a Potter that can even be taught that discipline."

The headmaster had an amused look on his face, as if Snape's bitterness was a well-known tonic, good for clearing the nose and lungs. "I was thinking rather the opposite, really. It has been some time since we've had a natural legimens at Hogwarts."

"Headmaster Dumbledore! Have you quite taken leave of your senses? It was pink elephants and purple crocadiles!" Snape said, and Harry was pretty sure he heard Snape's fists clenching. Harry hoped the man's fingernails weren't drawing blood.

"Exactly, Professor Snape." Dumbledore smiled genially, saying, "Don't you find it fascinating that you could read what he was saying with such precision? Particularly when you weren't trying?"

Shite, shite, shite, Harry thought, shifting in his chair. He wanted out of here, didn't want to be in the middle of these two men, and especially didn't want any of this to have come to light. It would perfectly serve me right, Harry thought, if they did figure out I was supposed to be in Slytherin. I didn't do any sort of research; I just did exactly as I pleased. Some days, I think I deserve to be in Gryffindor.

Professor Snape muttered something uncomplimentary (and in language that Harry Potter was quite certain he didn't normally use around students.)

"If that is all?" Dumbledore said, waving his hands airly, "You are dismissed."

Harry didn't exactly want to tag along after Professor Snape, but since it was lunch next, and he still couldn't navigate worth anything, he wound up following (again at that lope) Snape along the corridors. Apparently Snape didn't dislike him enough to ditch him at a flat run (which Harry was well aware he could have), but neither did Snape want to do the decent thing and slow down so that Harry could keep up. Perhaps he was just thinking about something, and didn't want to encourage daft, adolescent questions.

[a/n: erm. Harry? Earth to Harry? Trying to be unexceptional isn't thinking so loudly you put your teacher's teeth on edge. Really, it's not.

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Snape would not ordinarily have gotten the Headmaster involved in a matter of discipline, but he really doesn't need the distraction, and figured that getting confirmation from his employer was more likely to work than giving his own word to a Gryffindor.]