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Chapter Two- Lesson Number One

Sometimes, in the dead of the winter, there will be a day of totally confusion for all those who chose to remain inside their houses. Looking our their windows, they'll see a crisp, clear sky of a breathtakingly blue color, and they'll be so convinced that it's ninety degrees and sunny outside with birds chirping and a soft breeze blowing; they would never guess, in their wildest dreams, that it is really below 30 degrees and that a biting wind is blowing, a frigid combination. Then they'll see the bare branches of the trees and realize that no, it's still freezing cold outside, it's still the middle of January, and there's no chance they'll be visiting the beach anytime soon.

I always thought of Severus Snape as the those bare trees blowing in the wind of his own self-pity. I would be having a perfectly good day, swimming in a sea of ecstasy, fantasizing about warm summer days and Quidditch practice, when suddenly I would look up and there he'd be, swooping down on me, the bat of the dungeons.

"Potter!" Today was one of those days, apparently. "Have you no sense? Your cauldron has been bubbling for close to 10 minutes!"

Sure enough, my Draught of the Living Dead looked more like the Draught of Big Bird on Sesame Street. It had turned, much to my dismay, the brightest color of yellow imaginable, and I knew I had screwed up because the book said the potion would be "so dark as to be likened to the color of a stormy night sky." Great.

"I would appreciate it, Potter, if you could pay attention in class, and save your presumably boring day dreams for another time."

"Sorry, sir," I mumbled, my eyes downcast.

"If you don't shape up and show some respect if not for me than for this subject, I'm afraid I'm going to have to throw you out of this class."

Ok, he was overdoing it now. It's not like I spaced out on a daily basis, and it certainly didn't hold any contempt for the subject matter, just the professor.

The bell rang, saving me from any more unnecessary admonishment, and Snape dismissed the class. I was packing up my things, eager to get washed up for dinner, when he called my name.

"Potter," he said, "Please remain behind for a moment." It wasn't a request. It was an order.

"Yes, sir," I said. Hermione and Ron looked at me questioningly, and I told them to go on ahead of me. I would meet up with them later, in the Great Hall. Once they had left, I made my way to the front of the room.

"Sir?"

"Mr. Potter, please have a seat." That was two "pleases" in a row. Wow, Professor, your manners certainly have improved over the summer!

When I was seated in one of the front row desks, a seat which I had always loathed and avoided and at all costs, Snape continued.

"It has been Professor Dumbledore's desire, for some time now, that I continue giving you Occlumency lessons," Snape's words hung like a bombshell in the air. He waited for them to sink in.

"He-he- what?" I could not believe it. MORE Occlumency?

"But, sir, I thought we were done with the Occlumency. I thought we both decided that it-that it wasn't really working." The truth was, I knew, that Snape just didn't want my bratty nose poking into his personal memories, or his pensieve.

"The Headmaster wishes that we continue your training in other areas as well, such as self defense and more complex jinxes and hexes than you've been taught in your years here. He claims I am the most fitting figure to do this task, though I strongly disagree and told him as much. But, as you know, he is a stubborn old man and he will not budge. So, you are to meet me weekly-" my jaw dropped- "Yes, weekly, Potter, we're not playing games here. As I was saying, you are to meet me for your lessons in my private rooms every Wednesday night." I opened my mouth to protest but Snape held up his hand. "Should this schedule ever conflict with your Quidditch practices, we will see to it that it is altered somewhat."

We stared at each other for a moment; both of us were aware of how much it would please Snape to have Slytherin beat Gryffindor at the Quidditch Cup just because of lack of practice. I was also Team Captain in my sixth year, so if I couldn't make it to a practice, no one else would show up either.

"However," Snape continued, "we will not begin the training until I am satisfied, or rather, until Dumbledore is satisfied, that you are as skilled as you should be at Occlumency. Believe me Potter, nobody wishes this wasn't the case more than I. Your first session begins this Wednesday. I expect you to be there, as the Quidditch season has not yet begun. Any other thing you might think of to get out of this is not an excuse. This is a war, Potter. I'm not sure you understand what that means, but I do know that you can comprehend your role in it all." He paused here, waiting for me to say something. This was odd; he usually hated my input.

"Yes, sir, I do know my place. Waking up with the weight of the world on your shoulders isn't exactly the easiest thing to ignore. I know what I have to do."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Very well," he said, "You may go. Wednesday night, 7 p.m. sharp. Don't be late."

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Wednesday night, after dinner, I dragged myself down to the dungeons with a quick, "good luck!" from Ron and Hermione. They had listened sympathetically as I complained to them about having to continue the Occlumency torture-sessions with Snape, but in the end they both agreed it was for the best. Stupid people. I was halfway down the hall to Snape's office before I remembered his words of Monday morning.

"You are to meet me for your lessons in my private rooms every Wednesday night".

But where the hell were Snape's private rooms?! Was already a minute late, and Snape was viciously exact about his appointments with students, whether they be detentions or lessons. Shit. I was already in trouble and we hadn't even started.

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Potter was late. Again. He always managed to take every bad situation and make it worse, somehow. It was bad enough that Albus insisted I continue to train the brat, without me having to take even more time out of my night for him. I loved Albus to death, really I did, but sometimes that crackpot old fool really got on my nerves. The lengths to which he would go for this war…But he had insisted it wasn't only the war on his mind when he thought of this specific diabolical scheme to irk me. He said he needed his two most important men to get along in order to win this war. Get along? Who was he kidding?? I'm telling you, sometimes I wonder what the Muggles put into those lemon drops. I was sitting comfortably in my favorite chair in my sitting room when I realized that of course Potter was late; I had not told him where my rooms were! Oh, well, I was the Professor, and I could always claim and I had, in fact, gave him specific directions to my chambers and he had simply chosen to ignore them. And then, of course, I would deduct points. Ah, the evil privileges of being a teacher. A few minutes later, there was a knock at my door.

It was a strange, urgent sort of knock, that begged for entrance yet was soft enough to show that the person on the other side was apprehensive of what lay beyond, and would probably have sighed deeply with relief had the door not been answered at all. It was a knock that later changed to a more sure-of-itself bang, then to nothing, as eventually Harry Potter wouldn't even need to knock.

"Mr. Potter," I acknowledged as I opened the door, "so nice of you to show up. You're late." Something about the look in his eyes, the resigned look of a wizard who knows he's lost a duel before his opponent has even raised his wand, plucked at my heartstrings. And nobody played with Severus Snape's heartstrings. There was no anger in those emerald orbs like I'd expected there to be. The boy didn't even put up a fight when I deducted house points and threatened a detention for his lethargy in arrival. I thought it looked like he was holding back some strong emotion, but he kept his face impassive as I scolded him icily.

After a moment of awkward silence, however, he spoke. "Professor," he said, "Did you know you've got a 'Kick Me' sign on your back?"