Severus was in a foul mood. Never since he'd become a spy for the Light had he felt the need to apologize to anyone. It had been the rule that had saved his sanity: never apologize, never regret. Yet, somehow, after just one semi-amiable night spent in discussion, he'd felt the need to apologize to the thrice-damned Potter brat. The foolish Gryffindor had given Severus the fragile gift of his trust last night, and in return he had done what he always did: screwed up.
He couldn't help but think of Potter's kiss, when he thought of the young man. It had been sloppy, and useless, and he had no reason to doubt Potter's assertion that it had been just as unintentional and meaningless. But it was still a show of faith. Severus more than half-wondered if the kiss hadn't been one of relief as much as of gratitude, since the young man had finally found someone who understood his plight. Severus even felt he had responded appropriately, despite his desire to jump around like a school boy who'd thought he'd caught cooties. Potter's reassurance that it had been thoughtless had only reaffirmed his first assumption: It had been done out of trust, out of gratitude…And he had most efficiently defenestrated those sentiments with his careless words this morning.
The thing that had him so upset was that he didn't know why he cared. He could only hope that it was a temporary insanity due to a lack of sleep.
After lunch, Severus was once again grading, now in his office. Minerva had told him during the meal of Potter's hopes, and Granger's help, and what they hoped to gain from him. Despite his confounding emotions, Severus planned to deny them. He had no interest in playing a role in Granger's manipulations (for why else would Potter want to continue Potions if she hadn't forced the subject?). The expected knock came at the door, and he bade them 'enter'. Part of him wanted to tell the nosy bookworm 'no' before she began, but part of him relished the idea of watching her flounder through an excuse.
"What do you want?" He growled as the two Gryffindors came in and closed the door.
To their credit, neither student flinched, nor paused, as they approached his desk.
"Sir, we were wondering if we could make an official request, if you've got the time," Potter said diplomatically.
Severus had to smother a thankfully small urge to wince at the cold tone. What the hell had gotten into him?
"Potter, I am very busy, get to the point. I haven't got time to waste on your childish ramblings." Severus considered that momentary lapse of sanity well-smothered.
"We were wondering, Professor-" Granger stopped, and Severus glanced up to see Potter had put a hand on her arm. So Granger was leading this little excursion.
"It's not that important," The young man said. "We're sorry we interrupted you. We can come back later."
Severus rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He should really be wearing his reading glasses. He looked up as Potter turned, dragging Granger with him. "Now, will be fine, Potter," Severus said curtly. "Just make it quick.
Potter turned and Severus saw that he was holding a large, blue tome…the school bi-laws. "Of course, Sir." Damn. The Gryffindor walked back to the desk and set his heavy book on the edge. "We were wondering…I would like permission to use the Potions Lab on the weekends. I wasn't good enough to be in your class, and I can understand that, but I don't think that not meeting up to your standards should stop my studies. I would like to take the Potions NEWT at the end of term, and I feel that if I start studying now, I might have a fighting chance."
Severus furrowed his brow. "I can't allow you to study Potions without supervision." What was Potter playing at?
"I can understand that," Potter answered immediately. "However, Hermione is the Head Girl, and she has agreed to supervise and assist me. I've found a number of bi-laws that allow a Prefect or Head Student to substitute for a teacher in extenuating situations, including one such as mine. It's not the same as having a real Potions Master try and teach me, but I feel that we can achieve at least marginal success."
"Potter…" Severus found he wasn't as sure about denying the request. Flattery, no matter how subtle, got you everywhere in this world. "Are you only doing this in the hopes of joining the Auror Corps? I won't support such a single-minded effort. Potions requires your full attention, they are not to be learned on a whim."
Potter hesitated. Green eyes looked away nervously. "Actually…no. I-"
"Harry! Don't lie!" Granger interrupted.
The Wizarding Savior flinched, and Severus suddenly understood the nervousness. "I-I'm not, 'Mione." He half turned to her. "I'm sorry, I should have told you before I enlisted your help. The fact is, I don't want to be an Auror, it's sort of become my backup career. After what happened in the Ministry, I don't think I can spend the rest of my life watching people get hurt, and I don't want to have to hurt someone else just because my superiors say I have to. I'm not the same person I was in 5th Year, and I don't actually know what I want to do with my life, yet." Granger was fuming, but Potter only sighed and turned back to Severus, impossibly green eyes narrowed with determination. "ButI do know that I want to study Potions, Professor, even if it's only from a book. I'll never be a Master, I'm probably not good enough to even be an apprentice, but I still think Potions is a beautiful art, and a useful one. I already spent the whole summer reading my old Potions texts-"
"That's what you were doing all summer?!" Granger demanded crossly.
"I told you I was studying," Potter excused. "Anyway, after reading through the theory, I think I finally understand the intricacies that I didn't see before. I know, now, why it's disastrous to use a crystal rod when the instructions call for a wooden one, or why the ingredients interact differently based on the heat of my cauldron. I'll never have the true understanding you have, but I think if I was given the opportunity I could really come to enjoy Potions, both as an art and as a science. And, since I'm being so ridiculously honest, Professor Snape, that's really what I'm asking for; not just a chance to pass my NEWT, but the chance to love Potions the way I think you do. If it was just about following the instructions in the book, I wouldn't bother with the NEWT, because I already know I can do that well enough."
"I see," Severus hesitated. Potter had never been able to lie to him before, and he wasn't now. He still wasn't clear on what had gotten Potter to look twice at Potions, nor what had led to this sudden expulsion of information, but it was clear the brat was serious about his desire to pursue the study. "Fine," He said at last. "I will give you your chance."
Potter gave a half-smile.
"There are conditions," Severus said.
The smile didn't fade or falter. "Of course."
"You may have use of the Potions Lab every Saturday and Sunday immediately following lunch to study the 6th Year potions," Severus started. He steepled his fingers. "I will be present, and monitor your progress. Where necessary, I will offer my own guidance. Along with these sessions, you will be required to hand in at least six inches, the subject of which I will give you each Sunday, to be turned in each Saturday. I will grade these essays to gauge your progress and willingness to perform."
"But that's not fair!" Granger balked. "These are volun-" A hand on her mouth muffled her speech. She shoved it away, but fell silent.
Severus smirked at the girl before turning his gaze back to Potter. "Your grades in your regular classes cannot slip below an A average, though I would prefer you maintain an E. If your grades slip too far, your privileges will be rescinded. The same holds true if you receive more than three detentions before Christmas. However, in the unlikely circumstance that you can successfully hold to my rules, I will review your work over the Holiday and decide then if you have advanced far enough to join your fellow 7th Years in my NEWT course."
Potter gaped in disbelief before he gathered himself and glared suspiciously. "Why would you offer me that?"
"I can retract the offer, if you prefer. It is no more than I would offer any other student who wished to pursue my course," Severus lied smoothly. He'd actually never had a student make such a request of him, none were brave enough, and he doubted it was likely to happen again, even if Potter did get into his class by some miracle.
The Wizarding Savior glared suspiciously for a moment longer, and for once Severus didn't shutter his sincerity. Finally, the young man nodded. "Okay, you've got a deal."
"Harry!" Granger said in disbelief. "That's an awful lot of work! You're barely maintaining an A in History of Magic as it is!"
Potter shrugged. "Decision's been made, and I'll deal with the consequences. Thank you, Professor, for your assistance. We'll leave you to your grading."
Severus grunted noncommittally, picking up his quill. "I will inform you by this evening of the essay you will turn in this Saturday."
Again, it was Granger who argued. "But it's Wednesday!"
Potter grabbed the girl and started guiding her towards the door. "It's only six inches," Potter told her. "I can get it done during my free period tomorrow."
Severus smirked as the girl looked affronted, then sighed as they closed the door behind them. What the hell had he been thinking? He hadn't been, obviously, otherwise he'd never have offered to spend more time with Potter. Still, it felt kind of nice to have someone, even someone he didn't like on principle, show an interest in his subject. Seventeen years as a professor, and Potter had made him feel vindicated in the decision to remain.
The Potions Master tried to return to his grading, but found he could no longer make out the words very well. His eyes were too tired, hell he was too tired, to be able to focus. However, if he finished now he could retire immediately following dinner. With another sigh, he summoned his reading glasses. He'd take them off if another student came calling at his door.
Knock knock
Severus scowled and pulled off the glasses he'd only just put on. "Enter!"
And so Potter did, closing the door behind him on reflex. "Sorry, forgot my book."
Severus growled and nudged the offending thing with his finger. "Take it and get out."
The Gryffindor came up to the desk and picked it up. He hesitated, then spoke. "I really do appreciate your offer to help," He said softly. "And I'm sorry about last night. I can't imagine how tired you must be."
Severus found this softness, this…kindness, unsettling. "Very well. Your apology is accepted," He said, just as soft.
"It-it makes me even more grateful," Potter continued. "We…we don't have the best working relationship, you know?"
Severus was struck by the fact that he'd had almost the exact same thought the night before.
"I've never really liked you, and you don't like me, maybe even hate me-"
"Potter, I don't-"
"It's okay," Potter interrupted. "You're allowed to hate me, I think. My father was a prat, my godfather almost more so, and I'm not any better, really. I've treated you with suspicion and disdain almost from the moment I arrived, same as you have me, so it's fair play. But that's what made last night so important to me. You reached me when no one else could, and actually understood what I've been going through lately, in spite of how we feel about each other."
Severus sighed and set his glasses on his desk irritably. Why did he have to do this when he was tired? "I don't hate you, Potter, though you're right that I did. Yes, you've been suspicious of me in the past, but so have hundreds of students before you, and I've never given you or anyone else a reason not to be. I'm still not sure I like you, but you've proven time and again that you are not the carbon copy of your father that I always accused you of being."
Potter actually chuckled. "That's good…I'm still not sure I like you, either. But, thanks, for saying that about my dad. I used to think he was a hero until I saw your memory. Now I wish I was from better stock." He looked at his watch. "I should go, I have Charms."
He turned and went to the door. Severus, wanting to say something, stopped him. "Potter," He called. The young man looked back at him. "Thank you…for not telling anyone."
Potter smirked. "Your secrets are safe with me, Professor." He glanced meaningfully at the spectacles lying atop Severus' grading, then left the office with his book in hand.