"It's full of what?!" Hermione yelled at him, standing up.

"It's full of dark magic," he repeated again quietly. "Mostly spells I have developed, and then the potions I had fixed. It's not safe for anyone else to have this book but me. So write him the letter, and tell him to throw it out." Severus knew that he couldn't let anyone else get the book. It would be dangerous in their hands. It was also the closest thing to a diary he had because he did the different potions in it to distract himself.

She glared at him in angrily. "I plan on it. And then we will have a long conversation about this," she snapped and quickly began writing a letter to Harry before giving it to Erol and sending the owl off. She came back and glared at him. "Do you know what you're getting yourself into with dark magic? You idiot!" She had gone from looking harmless when she was angry to someone that could cause some serious damage when they were angry.

Severus wouldn't put up with being yelled at though. Especially not by someone he didn't know very well. "Don't start with me! I never planned on using any of it! But if you know what people can do, you can defend yourself against it!" he snapped back. "To like Defense Against the Dark Arts, you have to have an interest of some sort in Dark Magic."

"My best friend is the best person in the world at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he doesn't have an interest in it!" Hermione shot back angrily. "Harry would never create dark spells that could hurt someone!"

Glaring, Severus rolled his eyes. "You can't seriously believe that. Any person with a normal amount of curiosity would try to create their own spells. And not all of mine are dark. Some of them are actually useful," he snapped in annoyance.

"Harry Potter would never do su-"

"MY BOOK FELL INTO THE HANDS OF A POTTER?" he interrupted angrily. This was horrible. Not only did someone he didn't know have his book, but they were related James bloody Potter. He'd rather burn it without a way to get all of his work back than let it fall into the hands of a Potter. "HOW IN THE WORLD DID IT GET INTO THE HANDS OF THAT PRAT?!"

"Harry isn't a prat! You have no right to call him that!" Hermione snapped back, standing up again. She bristling with the idea of someone thinking her best friend a prat without meeting them. "Don't talk like you know him when you very obviously don't!"

"Well if he's anything like James Potter, I don't need to know him! Someone who hangs people upside down for fun and then causes them to lose their best friend is more than a prat! So excuse me for assuming he's a prat!" he yelled, getting up and walking away angrily. James was still a sore spot with him since he and Lily hadn't made up. He slammed his door behind him childishly. He could usually keep his cool but not when it came to Lily... She was the only thing that could usually wind him up.

Downstairs, he could hear Mrs. Weasley trying to figure out what had happened, and then Granger, he refused to think of her as Hermione now, explaining what had happened. No wonder they hadn't gotten along well. She was friends with a bloody Potter.

He sank back into his bed, frowning. He probably shouldn't have yelled at her... It wasn't completely her fault, but she didn't understand. Just because he had an interest in the Dark Arts didn't mean he was evil. They were just an intricate part of magic that he wanted to understand better. Why was that a problem? If he understood it, he could protect himself against it. Though he could admit that he found them more than just academically interesting.

He could hear footsteps coming upstairs and the door open and shut, signalling Hermione had gone to her own room as well. At least she wouldn't be a Gryffindor and try to come apologize to him. He would have just told her to bugger off anyways.

So he was surprised when he heard a knock at the door. Must be Mrs. Weasley. He sighed and got up, opening the door to see the red headed woman. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked, trying not to be completely rude.

Mrs. Weasley frowned slightly. "I heard what happened. You really shouldn't have yelled at her, though she shouldn't have yelled at you either. She just worries about people," she told him gently. "Would you go apologize to her? I think she's sorry as well."

Severus pressed his lips together and shook his head. "No. I'd rather not. She wouldn't listen to my explanations," he said simply.

"Because you were both yelling, dear. I'm sure now that you both calmed down you can have a logical conversation and she would listen. You two would be great friends for each other. You're so much alike from what I can see," Mrs. Weasley told him. "Could you please go talk to her? I want to see you two get along."

She was guilt tripping him. Great. That was just what he needed on top of all that was going on. "I will not talk to her tonight," he said simply. "Or at least not until after dinner. I do not want to talk to her right now."

Mrs. Weasley sighed softly. "I guess that's the best I can ask for. Please do talk to her soon though. I don't want to see you two arguing. And I told her the same thing, so if she comes to you first, please do to talk to her. I'm sure you two could get along if you tried," she said. "Or at least be polite to each other and not yell."

"I'll be civil," Severus promised simply, looking at her. He wouldn't promise anything more than that.

"Thank you, dear. I'm going to go back downstairs. Maybe you two can work something out," she said with a motherly smile before walking away.

Closing the door after her, Severus sighed and shook his head. He hated that he was stuck here with someone he couldn't get along with, and a woman who wanted them both to get along. He just wanted to go home and get out of this mess, maybe try to fix things with Lily. Instead, he was stuck with a frizzy haired girl who didn't even try to listen to his side of the story, and she was friends with a Potter. It was just too much. He went over to his trunk and pulled out Les Miserables. Maybe he could distract himself for a while with the story from the French Revolution. It would be a lot easier than trying to think things though right now, and it would help him to calm down some.

Before he could get more than a hundred pages into it, there was a light knock on his door. "Snape... Can we talk?"

(I hope you guys enjoyed it! If I do anything too out of character for them, please let me know. I wouldn't want to mess them up. Please review and let me know how I'm doing!)