Moving onward….
"He's my father."
Severus' words echoed in Harry's mind long after they had been uttered. Harry had listened to the man's story with the rest of the class, but there had been hints dropped all over it that should have told him what he'd wanted to know. When Severus had asked Harry about the time difference between Arsenius leaving and him starting, Harry had become frustrated. He didn't see how that had anything to do with who Arsenius was to Severus. But when he was asked about the connection between the two names, his stomach had flipped over. His mind raced through Severus' story as he was warning Harry's classmates to be careful, and he found something that stood out more than anything else the man had said.
"He made my life a living hell…"
Harry'd heard that line before…
"It was my father…I wasn't anything he wanted me to be, so he made my life a living hell far beyond words."
And when Harry had asked Severus about Arsenius, the man's expression became cold and rigid…
"Someone I pray you will never know, Harry."
The answer was clear to him at that moment, but he refused to accept it. It wasn't a fact until Severus confirmed it, as far as Harry was concerned.
But it was true. Harry could understand why Severus was so unnerved by his father's return to Hogwarts. Severus was desperate to warn all he could about Arsenius, to make them cautious, and if at all possible, protect them.
Fortunately, the seventh years didn't have DADA until the following day. Those who'd been in Monday's Potions class were quiet as they settled into their desks. Harry sat as close to the door as he could without being all the way in the back. Seamus and Lileana were on his left, Hermione and Ron were in the back row right behind him and Setarina, and Dean and Neville sat in front of him. It wasn't a planned arrangement, but it was designed to provide a level of comfort and protection, just in case. They had every intention of heeding Severus' warning, especially where Setarina and Lileana were concerned. Each prayed that they wouldn't have any problems.
Arsenius came out of his office just as the bell rang. He walked over to his desk and took attendance before addressing the class.
"Good morning," he began. "I am Professor Arsenius Snape, as the headmaster told you the other night. I will be teaching this class until further notice, and I hope to provide you all with the skills you need once you've completed your last year here."
He continued for about ten minutes, allowing Harry to pull himself away from the man's words. He had a way of speaking that pulled you in and made you listen. It was almost like having a chain attached to your mind that was forcing you to move closer.
Harry took a good look at Arsenius. He noticed the similarities Severus shared with his father everywhere. Both had essentially the same facial features, except Arsenius' face was more yellow and not quite as thin as Severus'. Arsenius' eyes were black and emotionless, and his hair was exactly like Severus'. Both were tall and thin and had the same predatory walk.
When Arsenius finished his speech he had them go over all that they had learned since first year. He was surprised at how much they had jumped around, having had only one teacher who was able to teach them properly.
"Remus Lupin," Arsenius said reflectively. "I remember him well. He was an excellent student, very focused, and very talented."
The class told him about Umbridge and Jones, and his face wrinkled in disgust. They also told him how they learned the spells anyways, without mentioning the DA itself.
"I don't blame you for going out on your own and learning how to defend yourselves with that toad you had," he said. "And as far as Jones, she knew what she was doing. I say you're all going to need to fill those gaps from the second and fifth years, as well as this year's curriculum."
They took notes, and he assigned them practical homework for the night. All in all, the class wasn't bad, but Harry was extremely relieved when it was over.
September went by without occurrence, unless you count Ron accidentally turning himself into a chameleon during Charms when he was supposed to be charming a tea cozy.
Harry had been spending all of his spare time training Setarina and Lileana. They weren't really that far behind him, and it wasn't long before they were helping each other learn how to control and manipulate their powers any way they so desired. They became quicker with every repetition, until just the thought of doing something could channel the right amount of energy to do it. This allowed them to focus less on making their powers work and more on their surroundings. Because Harry had more than enough experience with Death Eaters and various Dark magic, he was able to prepare the girls for what they might encounter in the future. Their reflexes improved greatly, every movement became graceful and deliberate, a definite change from the seemingly reckless and unsure behavior the girls had carried before.
"You know," Lileana said, after resuming her usual form, "I could get used to this!"
Harry smiled. 'Good,' he thought. ''Cuz you're going to need to.'
His classes had been very demanding so far, and he imagined they would become even more so as the year progressed. He only had four classes, but his teachers were piling their students with homework almost every night. DADA seemed more practical than written. Arsenius was, as Severus told them, very anal, and he wanted every student to know how to do things the correct way. Harry began to wonder if the man had changed since Severus had seen him last, or if he had yet to see the true side of his professor.
"He's warming up to us," Ron said over breakfast one day. "He'll show his true colors eventually."
"Yea, but he's putting us off our guard," Setarina said.
"And he's gradually becoming whatever monster he is under that façade," Lileana commented.
"I just hope nothing serious happens," Hermione said quietly. Harry agreed with all of them.
"I dunno," He said slowly. "Professor Snape wouldn't have us be so wary of him for nothing."
"Which Professor Snape, Harry?" Ron asked, jokingly. "The shrewd tall one or the shrewd tall one?"
Harry laughed. "They do look a lot the same, don't they?"
"Are you kidding?" Lileana exclaimed. "They could pass for twins!"
"All the more reason to be careful, I suppose," Hermione said. "We'll never know who's who now!"
"That's not Professor Snape, it Professor Snape!" Setarina said dramatically.
"Make sure you hand that in to Professor Snape when you're done," Ron said, imitating Professor McGonagall. "He's standing over there with Professor Snape."
They couldn't stop making jokes for the remainder of breakfast. In fact, when they went to Potions and Severus emerged from his office, they looked at each other and burst into fresh rounds of laughter.
"Do I even want to know what could possibly be so hilarious?" He asked them, with a slightly confused expression.
"No!" They all said between fits of laughter. Severus just shook his head and let them be.
Severus had been a nervous wreck ever since the Feast, not that anyone could tell from his behavior. Arsenius hadn't spoken to him since that night, and nothing had happened in any of the DADA classes. Severus felt like he was being put off, and though he knew he shouldn't, he started to relax a bit. He began to think that his father had changed since he'd left the school, but he wasn't totally convinced.
Severus sighed, sitting down behind his desk. He opened his laptop and turned it on. He was rather fond of his laptop, and he was using it more frequently now, with occasional help from Harry, who was used to computers and knew how to use them more than he did.
He waited for the Wizarding Online Network sign on screen to pop up, typed in his pass code, and within seconds, he was online.
He hadn't seen Harry on in months, since the boy had been busy with schoolwork and life in general. Because Severus was used to not seeing Harry's name in his friends list, he was rather surprised to see it this time.
"Isn't it a bit late for you to be on the computer?" Severus wrote to him. It was, after all, nearly midnight.
"Never. Besides, I'm bored." Harry wrote back. They went back and forth for some time, and things became quite silly. It was 1 in the morning when Severus took a coffee break. He wasn't tired, but he thought it would help his mind stay awake.
"So anyways…" Harry wrote.
"Yes?"
"There was this one time at Magical Terrorism Camp…"
"Oh, no! LOL." Severus typed, groaning. He knew where this was going.
"Hehe! Oh, yes!" Harry replied. "Anyway, there was this time at Magical Terrorism Camp where Dumbledore took the director's wand and shoved it—"
"You're gonna set us a new low here aren't you?" Severus said, interrupting Harry.
All he got in return was a reference to someone's candy ass.
"You're horrible." Severus typed.
"I know," Harry replied.
"You're doing it wrong—again!" Arsenius exclaimed. They were trying to learn an advanced Deflection Spell, and Arsenius kept interrupting them to point out their mistakes. And he found several mistakes.
"STOP!" He shouted, and the class looked at him. "I'm going to show you one last time how to do it properly," he said. "You must hold your arm at thirty degrees above the horizontal for the upswing, and stop at twenty-three degrees below the horizontal, like this." He waved his arm as he spoke, emphasizing the degree of his arm.
"How the bloody hell are we supposed to know how many degrees our arms are slanted while we're waving our wands around like dope addicts in a psych ward?" Harry said, frustration lining his voice. He hadn't had a lot of sleep the previous night and was extremely irritable.
"Language, Potter," Arsenius said. "And you will know, because I will make sure you do. Again."
They tried it again, and again. Harry'd had enough, and his arm was tired from being held up for so long.
"What the hell does it matter how we hold our arms?" He demanded. "What's important is that our aim is correct, not how many degrees we point our wands!"
Several other students voiced their agreement. They were just as worn out from wand-waving as Harry was, and some were just as frustrated. Arsenius, on the other hand, looked like he was about to lose his patience, and his temper.
"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for the language, Potter," he said. "And another fifteen for questioning me."
"I just want to know what's so important—" Harry started, but he was cut off.
"If you're not going to learn things the correct way, then don't bother learning at all!" Arsenius said sharply. "Just do as I tell you and don't question my teaching abilities."
"I wasn't questioning your abilities, I was jus—"
"I don't want to hear your sad story excuses, Potter!" Arsenius' voice was filled with anger and he wore a truly ugly look on his face.
"It's not an excuse—"
"Or your lies!"
"I don't tell lies!" Harry snapped. He knew things were spiraling out of control, but he didn't know how to stop it. He had a feeling that if he let Arsenius talk over him, he'd end up like Severus, too afraid to stand up for himself. But it was too late.
"Detention, Potter," Arsenius' deadly voice penetrated Harry's numb mind, just as the bell rang.
"Fine," Harry replied and grabbed his bag. He whirled around and stalked out of the classroom in such a fury of black robes, one might have mistaken him for Severus.
He was so angry he didn't notice Arsenius watching his movements throughout the remainder of the week. However, when he looked up at the board that following Friday, he caught the man peering at him from the corner of his eye.
"He's been watching you, you know." Ron told him after class.
"I kinda figured," Harry replied. "Not a comfortable feeling at all."
"When's your detention?"
"Tonight," Harry set his bag down next to him in the Great Hall. "That ought to be a load of fun and games."
Ron shook his head. "I dunno, Harry. I don't trust him."
Harry looked at his friend over the rim of his goblet. "Me neither," he said quietly. 'Then again, I'm not sure I can trust anyone anymore," he thought.
Harry walked down the hall to the DADA classroom feeling as though there was a brick in his stomach. He didn't like where it was sitting either. He stood in the doorway of the classroom, waiting for his professor to notice him.
"Come in, Potter," came the silky voice from behind the teacher's desk.
"Yes, professor," Harry replied, neutrally.
Arsenius set Harry on the task of scrubbing the desks. After an hour of complete silence, Harry began to wonder if this was all that he was going to be given. After all, he did talk back to a teacher, and with said teacher's reputation, Harry definitely expected a lot more.
"Finished, professor," Harry called, rubbing his hand. He began putting the cleaning supplies away in one of the cupboards.
"You are aware that I do not favor being back talked to, aren't you, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said slowly, closing the cupboard door.
"Has your Potions professor said anything to you that concerns me?"
Harry frowned. "No, sir." He was very fortunate that he had his back to Arsenius, because if he had been facing him, the older man would have seen the look in Harry's eyes. A look that would have betrayed his words.
"Hmm…" Arsenius said softly. "I would think he might have fed you and your classmates some silly rumour to spread amongst yourselves."
Harry turned around. He noticed how close Arsenius was to him.
"Well, he hasn't fed a story of any sort to us, as far as I know," Harry said. "In fact, Professor Snape doesn't tell stories of any kind, least of all to his students."
Arsenius looked at Harry. "Are you talking back to me again?"
Harry frowned again. "No—" But he was cut off, again.
"You're back talking," Arsenius whispered. "Come here, Mr. Potter."
"Why?" Harry asked, warily.
"Do as I say, Potter, or suffer the consequences!"
Harry stepped forward cautiously. The brick in his stomach seemed to gain more weight with each step he took.
"I warned you earlier this week that I wouldn't tolerate excuses, so don't try to feed me any," Arsenius began.
"I don't know what you're—"
The next thing Harry knew, he was lying on the floor, pain echoing on the side of his head. Arsenius' face loomed over him.
"That was just a taste of what you would've gotten had I let you finish your sentence, Mr. Potter. I'd advise that you wash your mouth out, before I do."
Harry sat up, his mind reeling.
"You're dismissed."
Things are moving along a little faster than I'd anticipated. Then again, I've also gotten sick, so I have more than enough time to write. Keep the reviews coming, and if anyone has any ideas that I can use in this story, by all means, please tell me!