Chapter 3 – An Unexpected Task

Harry and Hermione were sitting through Potions class a few days before Halloween working on Snape's latest and most challenging assignment to date. However, Snape had left the room right after he had given the class the lesson and had not yet returned. Every movement in the room caught Harry's attention, for he was hoping he'd come back.

Harry mentally shook his head at the irony of such a thought. Harry could tell that the war had changed the once sullen and perpetually angry Potions professor. While he was still a hard man to like, there seemed something sadder about him these days. Harry thought these things as he followed the directions in his book, and wondered if perhaps Snape's aura of sadness was only his pity projected onto Snape due to what he saw in his memories. Maybe Snape hadn't really changed at all.

'Okay, I think it's time to put the powdered bicorn horn in,' Hermione announced, rousing Harry from his daydreaming. He took the fine silver dust and sprinkled it into the cauldron, and the mixture within changed from fire red to deep cerulean.

Harry and Hermione smiled, knowing they had once again been successful. Harry himself felt particularly good, knowing that he at least wasn't being a constant source of aggravation anymore.

And while this was true concerning his behaviour as a student, Harry didn't realize just how wrong he was in so many other ways.

--

Severus closed the Headmistress's door behind him, hovering emotionally somewhere between dread and confusion. He swept silently through the deserted hallways and made his way back to the dungeons, his mind reeling.

Not even the fact that that he returned to find half the class finished made him feel any better. Instead, he ignored the lot of them and sat at his desk, immersing himself in the day's rather mundane copy of the Prophet.

Harry, who had been talking quietly with Hermione, had watched him storm in and knew that wherever he had been had not left him in a good mood. He had done as Snape had asked and had not spoken to him in two months since he had been unceremoniously banished from the dungeons save for class. Harry watched him reading the paper, and found it hard to believe that Snape really did hate him as much as he had always let on.

The bell rang and the class filed out after passing in their potion samples for grading. Harry placed his and Hermione's on the desk when Snape's eyes peeled themselves from the newsprint and bore into his.

'I need a word with you, Potter,' he said harshly. 'Now.'

Hermione nodded to him and left. The classroom was empty, and Harry stood before Snape, waiting for him to speak.

Snape, however, seemed to be battling within himself, for he appeared deeply uneasy. His long thin fingers intertwined as they rested on his desk.

'Headmistress McGonagall has informed me of a less than welcome piece of news,' Snape began bitterly. 'And for some unfathomable reason, she has left it to me to inform you of it.'

Snape got up from his chair and walked over to the small window, and stood in the weak beams of light that filtered down from above.

'The ministry has decided that they want you and I to give a speech at the end of November regarding our roles in the war.'

Snape turned around and looked at Harry, fully expecting to see a grin on his face at the prospect of more publicity. However, he was met by the sight of a tired and defeated-looking young man.

'Well, it seems we are of the same mind,' Snape said.

'Sir, is there any way we can avoid this? I would really not have to relive any of that again.'

'I don't want to do this any more than I want to set my hair on fire,' spat Snape, 'but it appears we have little say in the matter. The Minister is adamant, and has been so for over a month now.'

'Well, what are we supposed to do, exactly?' Harry asked, not entirely sure what the point of it was.

'On November 30th we are expected to give a speech in London to a crowd of Merlin knows how many people about how our actions led to the fall of the Dark Lord.'

'But there were so many people that helped bring him down!' Harry said adamantly. 'Why single the two of us out?'

Snape snorted. 'Well, surely Potter, you have figured out why you are being targeted, seeing as how you managed to pull off the one thing that no one believed was possible. And I…' Snape's voice trailed off.

'… was only one to turn against Voldemort and survive,' Harry finished.

'Something like that,' Snape said dismissively. 'In light of this task that we've been unwillingly thrust into, you will come to my classroom on Friday evenings and we will prepare this inane discourse.'

Harry narrowed his eyes. 'We're doing this together?'

'While I don't relish the idea, I'd rather suffer through four evenings in your presence than to avoid it and be humiliated by something tactless you say to all of the wizarding world.'

Harry smiled in spite of himself and dropped his gaze to the stone floor.

'You find the thought of my humiliation amusing?' Snape said shortly.

'Of course not,' Harry replied, lifting his head again to meet Snape's dark gaze. 'It's just that even now, you still think I'd do something to hurt you.'

Snape quickly looked away, feeling his cheeks burn. 'It's a chance I'm not willing to take. Now get out and don't return until tomorrow night at seven.'

'All right. Good day, sir.'

With that, Harry left Snape standing near the window and returned to find Hermione and Ron in the Gryffindor tower. Snape, however, remained in his office, cursing the ministry for putting him in this terrible situation, but at the same time, he grudgingly admitted that he would, at least, get to see Harry, and perhaps better understand why he was more than favourable to him these days.

--

Harry wasn't sure if he was looking forward to Friday evenings with Snape or not. But all too soon, it was time to begin the first meeting. He arrived at Snape's office to find that the door was slightly ajar, and let himself in. Snape, however, was not present. Harry sat down in the front row near his desk and waited, wondering how a man who placed so much importance on punctuality would violate his own enforcement of it.

Surely whatever is was that was keeping Snape was valid, so Harry waited until he finally heard footsteps approaching not from the classroom door, but from the adjacent quarters that were Snape's rooms.

Harry was unsure what to make of the sight that met him. While nothing on a superficial level seemed out of the ordinary, there was something slightly off about Snape as he took his place behind his desk. Harry, having been in numerous stare-downs with the dreaded professor, noticed that he seemed to be deliberately avoiding his gaze. He was always poised and carried himself well, but Snape had all but slinked into the room and unceremoniously sat down.

After extracting a quill and a piece of parchment from his top drawer, Snape finally spoke. 'I apologize for being late. Now, about this proposed speech we are to give. While I cannot control what you decide to say, I would advise you to not play into their hands and let their praise, and in some cases, worship -' he added bitterly '- go to your head. I believe it is best to stick to facts and keep it as tolerable as possible.'

'I see no problem with that,' Harry concurred. 'I never wanted all the attention I've gotten, and I'm not about to try to attract more. I know you don't believe me,' Harry said when Snape gave him a scathing look. 'But it's the truth, sir.'

For a long moment, the two men stared at each other. Suddenly, an unexpected flush seemed to sweep over Snape's pale features, and he turned his gaze to his parchment. 'I am also going to make one request, and I fully expect you to comply.'

Harry nodded, even though he didn't yet know what it was. It seemed that Snape needed some reassurance before he came out and voiced his thoughts.

Snape lifted his gaze and held Harry's, and the calm voice was sharp and acerbic. 'You are not to utter a single word about what you saw in my memories as far as your mother is concerned.'

Harry was frozen from shock, since this had been the first time Snape had directly spoke to him about Lily, and the emotion that writhed just beneath the semblance of order was overwhelming. Snape's gazed had not eased, and Harry was certain Snape was silently begging him to comply.

Harry nodded. 'You have my word.'

Snape seemed satisfied, and went on as though nothing had transpired. 'Now, I have spoken with Headmistress McGonagall regarding the specifics of this oration, and we are permitted as much time as we feel we need. I personally, am going to strive for the short side of five minutes. While I am not going to write your speech for you, I advise you to begin wherever it is you feel most relevant to the war, such as the moment or event in which you realized you alone had been singled out to finish the Dark Lord.'

For Harry, this moment was as obvious as the scar on his forehead. 'When Dumbledore showed me the prophecy,' Harry said, though unintentionally.

Snape flinched in his seat. Harry's eyes went wide. 'I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to…'

'As I was saying,' said Snape, struggling to maintain his decorum, 'Use whatever event you choose as your starting point, and move forward from there. Try to keep some semblance of chronological progression to your speech as well, for the benefit of those without the gift of abundant intellect.'

Harry nodded, taking in Snape's words as he spoke.

'Sir?' Harry asked tentatively. 'May I ask where you plan to begin your speech?'

Snape glowered at him. 'Just because I have given up my time to assist you in avoiding making a mockery of all we fought for does not mean I am about to divulge my personal history to you.'

Harry considered challenging this, and decided to, consequences be damned. 'It seems a fairly benign question, and considering all the other things I know about you, your answering could hardly be more personal.'

For once, Harry had rendered speechless the quick-witted potions master. For several moments, Snape simply sat and stared incredulously at Harry. 'Are you blackmailing me, Potter?'

'No, sir. Just curious,' Harry replied.

'You, along with the rest of the wizarding world, will find out on the 30th of November. Now dispense with your frivolous questions or you will find yourself back here on Saturdays for detention.'

Harry conceded, and decided it best not to push his luck any more for one day.

'I expect you to have your first draft completed by next Friday,' Snape said as he wrote on his parchment in tiny, cramped handwriting. 'You may go for now.'

Harry rose from his desk and made his way to the door, hesitating only long enough to say 'Goodnight, Professor' before taking his leave.