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I have realised that in my own my mind, as each chapter progresses I am plotting new situations and slowly the plot is changing. I'm not sure as to which way it will end. Plot A or Plot B. We'll see yet; plenty more chapters to come!

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Snape's Apprentice

Chapter Three: The beginning of Harry's end.

Dumbledore sat momentarily, perhaps cross-examining the speech Harry had no doubt he was composing in that brilliant mind of his. This wasn't the first time Harry had to bare a dramatic pause on the behalf of Professor Dumbledore, and he held no speculation that it would be the last time. It wasn't Dumbledore's fault of course. Professor Albus Dumbledore was a dreamer and was often prone to sparking a new world thought whilst just beginning to end his previous thought. Nevertheless, Harry also knew that every thought Dumbledore thought, was a thought the world would think. The man just had a way of publicizing his every movement when he wanted to.

"There was nothing the matter with your OWL results Harry," Dumbledore smiled, "In fact I was most pleased with them. But what I am hoping to discuss with you are your career choices."

Harry felt a dip in his stomach. He hated talking about the future because in all honesty, his future wasn't exactly predictable. For all he knew a swarm of Death Eaters could be standing on the doorstep waiting to mangle him on his exit. Snape sitting in the same room especially did not offer a condolence to his worried state of mind. Harry knew the tattoo that man bore. The twisted, dark emblem of what was once the old days. Every thing about Severus Snape highlighted darkness. His clothes, his profile, his personality even. He was not a man of good justice rather; he was a man of spite. Anyone who crossed the path of Snape left with a battered confidence. Harry didn't trust him; and that was that.

Dumbledore gazed dreamily into the fire for a short moment, probably again gathering his thoughts. He grunted softly and a smirk played across his lips.

"I assume you have pondered on what career you wish to partake in?"

Harry nodded. "I want to be an auror!" he stated proudly and then added, "Or at least I wanted to become an auror."

A faint grunt echoed from deep within Snape's throat.

"And what is stopping you from pursuing that path in life, Harry?" Dumbledore quizzed again.

He was waiting for that question. Therefore, Dumbledore was trying to have him killed. What was stopping him? Snape was stopping him, that's what. Snape was also sitting in the room at the time. Let's think of it logically. If he were to say straight up that Snape was stopping him, he would probably leave the "residence of staff" looking like a potion.

"Harry …?"

Harry shifted again. "Well I didn't meet the requirements, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded, leaning back into the hard couch and resting his hands on his lap. It was now that Harry noticed just how much he enjoyed that sight of Dumbledore, as odd as it seems. He was a mentor, not just a teacher of some magic. A grandfather figure, with a big bushy beard and soft, friendly eyes that easily gave away his schemes. His crooked smile instantly brightened up a room and he had that all knowing aura of authority. It was only now that Harry became aware of the twisted look on Snape's face. His dark eyes were playing in the fire light and his less appealing aura was shining brightly.

"Professor, what do my results and career choices have to do with all of this?" Harry asked, looking to the both of them, "I don't understand."

"That you don't Potter," Snape spat, retreating from his seat and walking towards the vast collection of books.

"Tell me Potter, alongside caterpillar, daisy roots, shrivel fig and leech juice, what other source of ingredient to you need to obtain to brew a shrinking potion?" Snape continued to ask in his usual silky tone of voice.

Harry made an inaudible noise and began glancing around the room. He shrugged, "I don't know sir."

Snape paused, his back turned to them and his long fingers skimming the edges of the fine books. "Really?" he mused, "Such a surprise."

Harry flushed, clenching his fists and looking away. How dare he - it - start a confidence shrinking session before Dumbledore. And he let him! Snape backed away from the bookshelf and spun towards Harry, dropping a large book onto the table with a sharp bang. The tinted pages began to turn by themselves, fluttering in a haze of yellow before coming to a halt at page 101. Dumbledore seemed highly amused by this little display, prominently muttering to himself about the wonders of young magic.

"Read the ingredients to yourself," Snape ordered, pointing at a page entitled "Shrinking Potions, Solutions and other methods of dwarfism"

"Sir, why am I reading potions books?" Harry asked, his voice tinted with annoyance.

"You'll soon enough find out, Harry," Dumbledore intervened, just before Snape had the chance.

He scanned the ingredients; daisy roots, shrivel fig, leech juice, caterpillar and rats spleen. Oops, rat's spleen.

"Yes, Potter, rats spleen. Do you realize that this a second year potion? You have just completed your 5th year and still after three years you cannot recite the simplest of ingredients!"

Harry eyed the book, refusing to meet the glowering figure of his Potion Master. It was three years for crying out loud, how was he supposed to remember that? He had revised it for the OWLs; he just forgot rat's spleen. So what? Then Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"I believe what Professor Snape is trying to express is that to become an auror you need an O in potions -"

"Which you didn't get Potter!" he barked magically shutting the book, "I expect nothing less then an O for my Newt classes, nothing less!"

"I am aware of that!" Harry challenged. He had just about had enough of this tampering business.

"Excuse me," said Dumbledore quietly, "I believe I was trying to explain something. So when you are both quite ready to listen, I shall continue."

Snape glared once more to Harry before regaining his seat. "My apologies Headmaster."

"Sorry sir."

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now Harry, the ministry have no connections what so ever when it comes to acceptance grades within Hogwarts. You had your hopes set on becoming an auror but did not achieve an O in your potions exam, and to which I can understand why. Professor Snape has presented me with the paper, and I'm afraid to say that you did make quite a few mistakes that could have been prevented -"

Harry felt his cheeks burn and could swear he was turning at least five shades of purple. Any deeper and they would name a new shade of maroon after him. In addition, he could feel the prying eyes of Professor Snape on him. He tried to close his mind in prevention of the Potion Masters wondering eye.

"- would you mind terribly if Professor Snape recited some of the mistakes you made Harry, just so as you are aware as to why you did not get an O."

Harry shook his head suddenly becoming very interested in the patterns of the carpet. He could hear Professor Snape remove some sheets of parchment from somewhere and ruffle them vigorously.

"To begin with," he began, not attempting to conceal his glee, "Your explanation of a cauldron states that you have a four legged cauldron, when in fact students are required to use three legged cauldrons as they are more balanced and equalized. You confused orthodoxies with antro-oxes, which is in no way a common mistake Potter. One is a Pink liquid and lets off smoke; the latter is a black liquid that blows up. Secondly, your little mishap with the rats spleen. I rest my case with the note that you have been brewing that potion for three years. You have no excuse as to why you cannot list the ingredients in a polyjuice potion! …"

Harry paled slightly. He hadn't forgotten that scenario in his second year. Snape was still conscious of letting Harry anywhere near supply cupboards. The two sets of eyes resting on him felt as of they bore deep into his soul.

"Yes, Professor," he mumbled, picking consciously at a tattered hole in his jeans.

"To continue - yes Potter, there are more errors in your paper; you drew a graph illustrating the effects of an enlarging potion on a lab rat. Instead of your graph increasing in numbers, it dropped dramatically. You misspelled Amortentia, and said that it was a weak form of love potion. Finally, we come to your practical exam. You did not bottle enough of the mixture resulting in a low effect. Did you not read the question?"

Silence fell about the room. Professor Snape dropped the exam paper to the table and smugly folded his arms, Professor Dumbledore leaned forward to retrieve the paper and Harry continued to pick at the already too big a hole in the knee of his jeans. He didn't know what to say. A horrible cascading sensation arose in his throat and he had to fight hard to keep his emotions at bay.

"Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked softly, gazing over his half moon glasses.

Harry shrugged in response. It was all he could think of at the time. "Well it's too late to do anything about now, isn't it?" he stated, stubbing the tip of his shoes into the carpet.

"Not exactly, I have come up with a resolution," Dumbledore announced, "Severus and I have come up with a resolution." At this, Harry accidentally locked eyes with Snape. He couldn't read the emotions, which was something that made Snape a great spy. "I know how much you wanted to become an auror, it is after all what your parents choose to do once they left school and I am very certain that they would have been proud of you for choosing such a path in life."

"Thank you sir," he mumbled.

"Do you like potions, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

He shrugged again. "I guess its ok, I never fully understood it." Snape grunted again and rubbed his temples. It was getting late and he was craving for a quick shot of fire whiskey to send him to sleep.

"When I received your results along with the other students results, I immediately noted that you had not managed to get into Professor Snape's NEWT potions class, so I put in a special request, Harry. I want you to become an auror and follow your dreams."

"Sir, how?"

"Professor Snape has kindly agreed to apprentice you until you have reached a NEWT level potions standard," Dumbledore smiled.

Harry blinked twice. His heart began to race and his only escape route was out the front door into the dismal back streets. Snape wants to apprentice me. No, he doesn't … Dumbledore wants him to apprentice me. But I can't, I won't …

Harry tried to recall the last time he had been left alone with Snape. It was during a detention he had received for "loitering" in the hallways. In fact, he had been fixing his shoelace, yet Snape saw fit to cart him off to detention. For that solid 60 minutes, he had been mentally strained with the obnoxious, loathing voice of Snape.

"I assure you Potter, I am in no way happy about this arrangement and will until the day you leave my side be disturbed with the possibilities that could arise."

Dumbledore chuckled lightly at his Potion Masters comment. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, as offering a source of comfort and beamed between the both of them.

"Severus, I am perfectly sure that you and Harry will eventually come to some resolution. This does not have to be a formal arrangement, just act as of you are still within the confinements of Hogwarts," he suggested, "Now Harry, what do you say?"

"Thank you, sir," he muttered bitterly, pulling at another loose strand on his jeans.

Professor Dumbledore one again turned his attention to the fireplace. He held a dreamy expression on his aged face and a twinkle in his eye.

"It is getting late, Headmaster," Snape announced, courteously rising from his seat and offering his hand to the Headmaster. Dumbledore accepted the offer and allowed himself to be hoisted from the stiff chair.

"Oh my, it is indeed well past my bedtime," he sighed, straightening his back with a muffled groan, "Thank you very much Severus, for your hospitality"

Snape grunted in response. "Shall you be spending the night, or should I arrange a portkey?"

"Neither my boy, neither. I think I'll take the floo network," he decided, advancing into the fireplace, which Harry noted had increased in size and was now without a flame, "Word has it that the department has upgraded the system by a notch. I do love the whirl of the floo."

"Professor!" Harry cried, taking a giant leap towards his Headmaster.

"If you need to contact me Harry, you can write and I am positive that Severus will allow you to borrow the floo network for a few moments of fun," he said, looking towards the towering figure of Snape.

"Of course Headmaster, I shall be in contact soon enough."

Professor Dumbledore grinned and with a crack of green flame, dissolved into the wall of the fireplace. It was to be. That last image of Dumbledore rooted deeply into his mind. This was probably the last time he would see the man if Snape killed him. Turning on the spot, he wrung his hands together. Hell. There was an awkward silence. Harry looked around the room frantically, weighing up the possibilities of this conclusion to his life.

"It's late Potter, and I have much work to do in the morning, so you are going to bed this instant," Snape barked icily.

Harry would have loved to retort with a witty, sarcastic comment as to how he would be finding the bedrooms, there was after all no other door but the exit, when suddenly one section of the bookcase vanished and a rounded staircase presented itself. For a moment, he gawped like a fish at the sheer intelligence of the matter: it would take only Snape to outdo the average wizard.

"Really Mr Potter, you would think that you of all people would be used to these odd happenings," Professor Snape smirked, leading the way up the stairs.

Harry quickly followed, not wanting to be left standing alone in the front room of an active death eater's house. Although, he wasn't to sure that he wanted to be following one up the stairs either. He did however follow Snape up the stairs and into a long wooden hallway. He could just make out two picture frames if he squinted through the darkness. He paused for a moment, hoping to the fiery pits of hell that his eyes would adjust to the darkness. He could make out nothing but the faint aroma of potions.

Oh Christ, if I bump into the back of Snape he'll kill me there and then.

A draft had somehow found its way into the hallway and icily found its way through the material of Harry's Weasley jumper. Goosebumps erupted across his pale arms and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. There was something odd about this house. It wasn't your average house. There was something else here. He spun to the left, something had moved in the corner.

I'm dead.

"Aaaaahhh!" he yelled, flailing his arms in the air and pulling his wand from his pocket

"Potter!" Snape barked, rushing from behind a door, his wand outstretched and a tiny light flickering at the tip.

Harry spun towards him, a look of sheer panic and nerves crossed his face. "What is it?" he yelled, backing against the wall.

Snape lowered his wand to waist height; a triumphant and gloating smirk cracked his face. His dark eyes glinted and Harry was almost certain he was going to laugh.

"You insolent brat!" Snape hissed, tapping a door to his left open with his foot, "that is what we normal folk call a cat. Do you demand an illustration with that fact?"

Harry pocketed his wand, breathing deeply. It was a cat, just a cat that had brushed against his leg. Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, he straightened himself out once more. It was then the foolishness of his actions kicked in. He wasn't here 2 hours and had already managed to make a complete idiot of himself over a cat.

"Your room, Potter," Snape grinned, pointing his wand to the open door.

Harry nodded and paced slowly into the dark room. The light of Snape's wand highlighted enough for Harry to make out a small, single bed pushed into one corner, in another a chest of drawers and some shelves and then a study desk. He was delighted to see that his trunk and Hedwig had been delivered safely; she was perched cautiously in her cage, unaware and suspicious of her surroundings.

"You have light for 10 minutes," Snape decided, igniting a candle and placing it into a tiny holder on the wall, "After that you blow it out, or you sleep in the hallway. Understood?"

Harry nodded. "Yes - sir," he added as an afterthought.

Professor Snape glared at him once more and then retreated, slamming the door in his leave. Harry sighed deeply, sticking his hand into Hedwigs cage and gently trying to coax here out. She nipped at his fingers and he stroked her beak reassuringly.

"At a girl," he mumbled as Hedwig proceeded to stretch her wings and perch on his shoulder.

Harry could relate to how she felt; alone, scared and confused. Unsure of the troubles ahead. He looked around the room, closely examining his new habitat for a while. The walls were a pale, almost greying yellow and held no trace of decoration saves for a lonely looking mirror covered in dust. Harry figured that Snape didn't do much looking in the mirror. The floor was constructed of dark coloured wood, with a series of scratches deeply embedded into the panels. Someone had obviously been shoving that big desk around the place. The desk wasn't much to look at; in fact, it rather resembled his own one at the Dursley's. The chest of drawers looked relatively new, they were a bit dusty but after a quick check, it proved that the drawers opened and closed without a sound. On top of the shelves were a few books, Harry didn't feel like nosing through them tonight, he didn't want Snape on his back for being sneaky. Instead, he flopped on to the bed, which to his surprise was soft and fluffy. The pillows were new, he could tell by the stiff feel and the blankets were made of light cotton.

The candle flame flickered, and then extinguished itself, another of Snape's tricks. That night Harry slept in his clothes. Despite his new surroundings, he felt oddly at home. The room felt comfortable and welcoming. There was just one thought that continued to play on his mind - why did Snape have a toy car in his living room?

Ta-da! Endo of chapter three. Did you like it? Tell me, I want to know.

I'm now off to watch another stunning performance of Alan Rickmans. That man is such a sex ...

-The Apprentice-