Chapter 4
Snape was pacing the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk with his blue eyes twinkling again. A smile was hidden behind his raised hands while he watched Snape and his ever-present scowl.
"And what's so bad about it Severus?" the Headmaster asked.
"There's no use with Harry making any kind of connection to me. I know you wanted me to play father to the boy Albus, but it just won't do," Snape grumbled.
"Not father Severus, just merely someone there for him in a way that none of us can be," Dumbledore corrected.
"Right. You want me to feed him, put a roof over his head, and listen to all his teenage angst. Isn't that what a father does?" Snape shot back.
"To put it simply yes, but a father also loves his children. Severus I'm just asking you to keep an eye on him. To treat him better than his relatives did," he said.
"Did you know about how they treated him before I said anything?" Snape demanded.
"I can't say that I did. You know the view the wizarding world has on abuse. It's cruel and outdated and I'm glad you said something to me," he said.
Snape sat in a chair and crossed his ankles.
"Right, then down to the other business we have," he murmured through a curtain of hair that had fallen in his face.
Harry was in the library dusting. He was also scanning the titles of the near by books as he went. Most of them were so archaic that he couldn't read them. Most the time he'd see a title and just move on. There were a couple about transfiguration that looked like they might be interesting. But he was interrupted before he had the chance to get a good look at them.
"Master wants to see Harry Potter right away sir. Master says it's important," Misty said.
Harry put his wand away and a few books were they belonged and followed Misty out of the room.
She led him into a dark study. Snape was sitting behind a desk scribbling away in a book. There were ink stains on his hands. Dozens of papers were scattered here and there. The shelves that lined the walls were stuffed with books and papers. None of it looked like it had ever been organized.
Snape waved a wand and papers flew off the only other chair in the room. He motioned for him to sit.
"You wanted to see me sir?" Harry asked.
"Yes. Just a minute," Snape murmured.
He continued scribbling in the book for several minutes. Harry had to clear his throat to get Snape's attention from one of the books he was referencing.
"What did you want to see me about sir?" he asked.
"Dumbledore wants us to connect," Snape grumbled, "So we need to find something that we can do together that won't end in me killing you."
Harry stared at him a little dumbfounded. Had he just heard correctly? Snape was looking for something to do with him?
"Well Potter? Isn't there something you like to do besides make everyone else's life hell?" he demanded.
"Um, well, the only things that come to mind are quidditch and charms," he said.
Snape raised his eyebrows and asked, "That's it?"
"Well, I like potions when you're not around to criticize me," he admitted.
"Fair enough," he smirked, "Then why don't you help me on some of the potions I'll have to be working on this summer. And I don't see why you can't go flying some time soon."
"Thank you sir," he said in confusion.
Snape nodded and motioned for him to leave.
Two days later, Harry found himself in a well-lit room with Snape. The older man had sent Misty to find him in the library again and just told him that he had to follow her. She had led him up three flights of stairs before pointing to a door at the end of the poorly lit hall, telling him that he had to go through it. Snape had spat a few orders to him, and they settled down to work quietly.
About an hour into it, Harry was stirring a cauldron musing. It was going well considering that neither of them had really spoken to each other. He steadily got lost in his contemplation as the time passed.
"Harry, how many times have you stirred that clockwise?" Snape demanded.
"Four sir, I've still three more to go," he muttered absentmindedly.
He didn't notice Snape watching him finish stirring and complete the rest of the immediate steps. He just lowered the flames, set the timer, picked up a book, and started flipping through.
"Why don't you do that well in class?" Snape asked.
"Because I'm usually trying not to curse you or Malfoy at the same time, sir," he said.
"That's a very candid thing to say," Snape replied.
"If you want me to be frank sir, I'm sure there are more interesting things for you to ask me," Harry retorted.
"Then why don't you tell me about what you meant by your eyes telling who you are," he invited.
"I guess I could," he considered, "Because I look so much like my father, everyone expects me to be a carbon copy of him. Especially you. And I got to thinking, no one ever said how much like my mother I am. If I changed what looked like my father, maybe I could be myself."
"You put a lot of thought into it," Snape muttered.
"Not really, it was mostly just thoughts that flowed through my head, and I went with them. I'm good at going with impulse," he said.
"So that's how you get yourself into all that trouble," Snape muttered to himself.
"We go in with some sort of plan sometimes," Harry commented, "Usually thanks to Hermione."
Snape shook his head and went back to his cauldron. Harry followed his example and went back to the book for the next steps.
A little while later he was staring back and forth between the cauldron and the book in mild irritation. He continued working nonetheless.
"Problem Potter?" Severus requested.
"Yeah, your book is mislabeled. This says it's a Pepper Up potion, but it actually looks like a burn salve," he said.
"Very good Potter. Did you recognize it from all the times it's been used on you?" Snape inquired.
"That, and I read ahead in the textbook a little," he admitted sheepishly.
Snape raised his eyebrow, but went back to work silently.
Another couple of days passed rather quietly. No deep revelations from Harry, and Snape mostly held back his scathing remarks. They finished Madame Pompfrey's burn potions and started on Ske-Gro next.
They were sitting down to lunch, and Harry was pumping him for information on some of the other teachers.
"I'm sure she has some kind of mental disease though. She has to," Harry said adamantly.
"Stop shoveling your food, for Merlin's sake. You're not your Mr. Weasely," Snape admonished, "And yes I'm sure. She just has an ego very similar to Draco's. They both think their something they're not because of their family heritage."
"You don't honestly think that do you Professor?" a male voice asked.
The voice belonged to an almost delicate looking, but wiry young man with platinum blond hair. His pale skin would have been almost completely covered by the gray robes that matched his eyes, if he hadn't been leaning against a doorframe. His lips were pulled back in a friendly sneer.
"Speak of the devil and he will appear. What is it you want Draco?" Snape demanded.
"Only to speak to my dear godfather. And see if the famous Boy-Who-Lived is indeed still living," he said cheekily.
"Well I am Malfoy. If you'll excuse me Professor, its about time for the next few ingredients," Harry said abruptly.
Snape nodded consent, but watched him as he left. And Draco Malfoy watched him watching the boy.
"Growing fond of him are you?" he inquired.
"Of course not," Snape scowled, "He's just has a tad bit more depth then I had accounted for."
"He yelled at the mutt," he revealed thoughtfully.
"Well you can ponder over your new puzzle later. There's some things you need to know about the upcoming meeting," Draco said brusquely.