Severus Snape arrived at the Three Broomsticks promptly at 12 noon.

He had considered arriving earlier, but didn't want to seem in any way… desperate… for company. Although, the way he was operating now, he had to wonder if there was some desperation hidden there.

He shook himself. Of course there wasn't desperation here. It was only a possibly mutually beneficial business relationship that he was seeking, nothing more. He did not need friends.

That he was allowing the Baker child into his house on a weekly basis was of no consequence either; the child intrigued him greatly due to his talents. That was all it was. Intrigue.

"Professor Snape!" called a young voice from across the room. Severus turned to see the boy and his now-bespectacled mother sitting at a table in the corner of the room. Madam Baker kept her eyes firmly on the menu, and Severus tried to ignore the slight sinking feeling that seemed to settle in his stomach when he looked at her.

"Professor, you're here," Evan exclaimed as the older man sat down. The good professor raised his eyebrows.

"Obviously."

Evan did not shrink from him, something the Professor was still hardly used to. "Mum and I weren't sure you'd come! Mum said Hogwarts professors are often very, very busy, even in summer. I thought teachers got holidays in summer."

His mouth twitched at the horrified look the boy was giving him. "Most Hogwarts Professors do other research in their fields on the side. Excepting Binns, of course."

Madam Baker snorted.

"I don't know, perhaps Binns confers with the other ghosts as his own form of research. I know he can't exactly pick up a book, but he can't be doing nothing at all simply because he's a ghost."

She said all of this with her eyes still on the menu.

"There's a professor," began the child in wonder, "who's a ghost?"

Neither adult answered him, although Madam Baker grinned at him from behind her menu.

"Wicked," the boy whispered.

"Not really," Madam Baker commented, a grin still spreading across her face. "You'd think he'd be the most exciting professor there, but as it happens, he's incredibly dull."

"Still," Evan amended, eyes wide, lost in thought.

It was then that Rosmerta appeared. Madam Baker ordered Shephard's pie, which she and her son would be splitting. Severus ordered his "usual"- also Shephard's pie, though he hadn't wanted to simply repeat Madam Baker's order. It would have sounded like groveling.

Of course, he didn't know that 'Madam Baker' already knew what his usual was, and had been wondering if he would order it.

"So, good professor," Madam Baker began, still refusing to meet his eyes and giving a very stony emphasis to the word good, "who did you end up studying with after Hogwarts?"

"Master Borage took me in for my required two years of study," he said.

Madam Baker's eyes went wide. "Libatius Borage? Interesting."

"I will admit, in my school days I thought he was below my level as a potioneer, as our textbook in school was frequently slightly off in its instructions. However, I quickly found that Borage felt that just handing a student the proper instructions was the easy way of doing things and didn't require them to think enough for themselves. The man was curiously brilliant."

"I had noticed that his textbook was off in so many places, myself," mused Madam Baker. "I hadn't thought he could be doing it on purpose, but it makes sense, given that his descriptions of what should happen next in the brewing stages never seemed to match what really happened when one followed his faulty directions. And Slughorn never seemed to have noticed either!"

She laughed out loud at that, but then became suddenly solemn. "Is he- did you-"

"Slughorn is alive and well as far as I am aware," the Professor said, not wanting to delve too deeply into the topic of how he became a teacher. "He simply desired retirement."

To his relief, Madam Baker simply nodded, not asking for further explanation. He noticed that she was still very pointedly not looking at his face, especially not his eyes. He recalled Evan's reaction to his brief mental probing, but her mental defenses had to be stronger than his- there was no way that was the reason she wouldn't look at him. More likely she found herself disgusted, and he tried not to feel too put out by that thought.

"Who did you do your apprenticing under, Madam?"

"I apprenticed and then worked under Madam Slydell over the past… seven or eight years, I believe it's been. Unfortunately, she was very old, and fell ill a little less than a year ago. We were forced to return to the British Wizarding world rather quickly…"

Severus noted that Evan was pretending to ignore this particular subject, and that Madam Baker appeared almost… ashamed. Interesting.

"Madam Slydell was a very well-respected Potions Mistress," the Professor complimented. "I am sorry for the loss."

Evan seemed to be rabidly closing in on himself, and though Severus found this oddly worrying, he didn't know what he could possibly do to stop it.

"So, what projects have you been working on that may have need of my assistance?"

At this question, the boy perked up and placed his attention more obviously back to the adults beside him.

By the time their food arrived, Severus had gotten through the explanation of only one of his projects, and Madam Baker seemed to be less and less stiff around him with every passing moment.

"Professor, why is your hair so greasy?"

Both adults stopped their conversation and stared in shock at the boy. Madam Baker's face was reddening in horror, Severus's looked dangerous. Rosmerta happened to be standing nearby, but neither adults noticed her cover her mouth and run to the back of the pub to have a laugh.

"EVAN," Madam Baker managed, "how could- how could you possibly think that question appropriate?"

Severus noticed the boy wasn't cowering, and a thought occurred to him that Evan Baker had had this question stored up for months, and had simply waited until his mother was around to ask it, having had also a sense of self-preservation.

It didn't prevent Severus from glaring at the boy, but it did prevent him from strangling the little monster on the spot. Evan did cower in fear when he caught sight of the professor's face, and that was enough for him. For now.

"Mr. Baker," the professor growled, breathing deeply, "perhaps you could make an educated guess for us as to the reason why I don't walk around with the 'soft, flowing locks' heralded in Witch Weekly."

Madam Baker crossed her arms and stared her son down, who was finally cowering slightly.

Harry was very tempted to answer, at the mention of Witch Weekly, that Severus must not want to attract such witches as those who read that dreadful magazine, and that he'd be happy to know Madam Baker despised that kind of literature herself. But he happened to value his life, and his budding companionship with the older man.

"Is it… something to do with what happens when you brew potions, Professor? Is it the fumes going into your hair?"

"You are correct. There are certain shampoos that aid in the removal of potions residue from one's hair, but I myself have always valued other things more highly. Shampoo isn't something I like to waste money on."

"Professor Snape, that's quite reckless of you," Madam Baker sighed. "The residue leftover from potions can have dastardly effects if left unchecked for too long."

"Rinsing with a small amount of horned slug water is effective in neutralizing those effects and preventing anything particularly horrible from befalling my person simply because I refuse to use expensive shampoo," the Professor grumbled.

Madam Baker raised her eyebrows. Severus could tell she was thinking that his 'rinse' was likely contributing to the greasiness of his hair. He had never particularly cared about his hair other than that it was clean, and that he didn't smell. He wasn't about to start caring now.

The subject abruptly dropped from there, and after a few moments, the adults resumed their conversation about their projects, and Severus couldn't help but notice Evan listening intently yet never breathing a word into conversation.

"Mum, can we invite Professor Snape over some time?"

Lily Potter sighed as she tuck her only son into bed. It had certainly been an odd and exciting day for the child.

"I'm not sure he would be interested, Harry," she told him. "And you must keep in mind, he doesn't know us and can't know us too closely. If he had learned today what our identities were, we could have been in danger. It is better for you to let me work with him from afar than to get too close to him yourself."

Harry took in a deep breath and looked straight at his mother.

"Mum, I- I've been going to his house on my own to borrow books since winter," he exclaimed.

Lily stared. "What?"

"He's been teaching me, Mum! He was really grumpy at first, but he let me borrow all the Little House books, and some other potions books, and he's been teaching me how to write proper essays and when the Malfoys came over he protected me from them and-"

"The WHO came over?"

"Mum, he's good, I swear!"

"Harry James Potter, I can't believe you would disobey me so thoroughly! You do not know that man. Severus Snape is dangerous."

"Not this, Mum," whined Harry. "Professor Snape's good. I know it."

"No, you know nothing," Lily responded sternly. "Perhaps he really did turn spy, I don't know, but the fact of the matter is that he willingly became a Death Eater. He willingly threw his full support behind a man who murdered muggles and muggle borns. Behind the man who murdered your father."

Harry shrank back from his mother at these words.

"People change," he whispered. "He's good, Mum." He straightened slightly, lifting his chin. "He's good."

For a moment, Lily was lost in a hard staring contest with her son. A contest she swiftly lost.

"Harry, if he shows that he has changed, then perhaps we can let him into our lives. But you are not to visit him anymore without my permission," she insisted. "And I will know."