(A/N: Bad Writer! Bad bad bad! I am so sorry for the VERY long wait for an update. Thank you all for being so patient, and for those who weren't so patient, thank you for nagging me. Sometimes I need to be nagged. This chapter contains MANY direct quotes from the book - ANYTHING and EVERYTHING you recognise is JKs, and not mine. Other than that, read, review and enjoy! WonderWhiteRabbit hopping off...)

In the Head of the Snake

Chapter 28: Defiance

"It will work," he said again, "just give him more time!"

"He does not have time, Severus," replied Dumbledore with a sad shake of his head. The twinkle in his eye had all but disappeared. "No matter how much Occlumency he does – "

" – tries to do, you mean, he's utterly useless – "

"It will not help. Not if my theory is correct."

"Your theory? Am I one of the fortunate ones to hear this theory? Or am I one of the masses not fortunate enough to partake in your thoughts?"

Dumbledore grunted his humour, but the smile never reached his eyes.

"Don't be so sulky, Severus, it does not suite you."

"Neither does joy, so as such I am left in neutrality, am I not?" he crossed his arms over his chest. Not only had Dumbledore woke him up early, but now he would not even say the reason why. "We are straying from the point. Why do you want to stop Harry's Occlumency lessons?"

"Are they improving?" asked Dumbledore with a sigh.

"No," Snape would not lie to the headmaster. "But that is just because he needs more time!"

"Fine, Severus," sighed Dumbledore again. "You can give Harry more time. Let me know how his lesson goes tonight."

"Will do, Headmaster," Snape gave a curt bow and turned to leave the office before Dumbledore said, "Oh, and Severus. I do suspect I will be in the grounds this afternoon. Do not look for me, I will return swiftly."

"The grounds, Headmaster?" asked Snape – normally if Dumbledore needed items from the grounds he would ask Snape or Hagrid to fetch them.

"Yes, but it is not an ordinary call that I must make, so I do apologise if I am a little bit late."

Confused, Snape merely said, "Of course, Headmaster," before he left the office.

He strolled slowly through the grounds, making his way along the pathway back into a towering archway that wound its way from the Headmaster's Office back towards the castle. The Office was a separate tower to the four that represented the Houses. It had always made Snape feel apprehensive walking towards it, and as if his shoulders were two times heavier walking away from it. Nothing good had ever come of the Office. And yet it was where he always turned when he had questions, theories, requiring answers. Even without Dumbledore's presence he suspected he would still return there if he had need of help.

His feet had led him to the Great Hall where the roof mirrored the cloudy sky outside. He breathed a sigh and strode into the hall stiff backed. He marched to his seat at the head table and promptly buttered toast and added a hefty portion of jam. As he chomped on a corner, he let his eyes wander the hall. It was quite empty, thank Merlin for that. Only a scattering of early birds had made their way down to the hall and the fresh morning settled noises before they reached Severus' tired brain. Dumbledore wanted to stop the Occlumence lessons? It didn't make sense! He had fought tooth and nail to get Severus to give them in the first place, and now the fighting positions were in reverse. Harry Potter needed these lessons. He had to learn to block out his mind! If the prophecy was true – the little of the prophecy that he knew at least – then Potter had to fight the Dark Lord, and if he had to fight he had to have the proper knowledge to fight! And therein lay the issue; Potter could easily get that knowledge – he was surrounded by teachers with far greater skills to offer than he could master in a lifetime – but without the element of surprise, what use was that?

He threw his toast down on his plate, not hungry at all. Then something happened that broke his appetite down to ash on his tongue: Ginny Weasley walked into the hall. Worse; she was glowing. Again.

She looked up at the table and found his eyes. He wanted to look away, but instead he glowered at her, baring a pointed canine. His hand tingled from the remembered touch they had shared and he balled it up into a fist in response. She wanted to play with him, so she would learn what happened.

He still couldn't believe how he had found her. Every time the memory graced itself at the forefront of his mind, his heart found a different rhythm to beat to. And he got angry. Very angry. And invariably he broke something.

In this case, it was his glass of water that took the brunt of his emotions. It shattered into tiny diamonds, the water spilling over the shards and spreading like fingers along the tablecloth. He didn't even bother looking at what he was doing as he stood from the table in a loud scrape of chair on stone and stalked out of the hall, repairing the glass over his shoulder. His eyes were only for the redhead.

She looked away first. He could not say why, but that made him very happy. Maybe Monday was not going to be so bad...

. . .

Ginny had tears in her eyes as she took her seat at the table. This was not fair! It was lunch time and yet again he had played his little staring contest, and again he had won! She told herself the tears were just because her eyes were dry, but she knew the truth...he was winning. She was just a novice, only learning the steps to the dance they were dancing, while he stepped each step in a flourish of confidence. She had always used others to help her problem! So what, she had slipped up just once and now he was going to punish her forever?

Not the once though... the last time she had had her craving, it had lead her to his secret room. She would have ended up with Michael if he hadn't been so...so...so curious! That was the issue with Severus Snape. He was a curiosity. A mystery so profound that she had to figure him out! He had theories for her, so why not she have some for him?

That was a thought. She had never made up a theory before. Where to begin? To have a theory, she must have a way to prove it. Wait, if Snape had a theory for her, how did he plan to prove it? Was all of this part of his experiment? To see if the thing in her would react properly? Or improperly... She didn't know any more. What did she know?

She had hardly touched her lunch before she jumped from the bench and made her way as quickly as she could from the hall. What she needed was a notebook. Didn't her dad always tell her that if you had a puzzle, you needed all the pieces before you could solve it? Of course, with Wizarding Puzzles where the pieces were always walking off the table it was very difficult to keep all the pieces, but Severus Snape was not like that. He had definite pieces and she would put them together to paint the picture. A notebook was a good idea...with quite a few drawbacks however. She needed it to be secret. To be kept secret.

She stumbled to a stop before the Fat Lady and hurriedly said the password.

"A bit of patience would do you some good!" called the Fat Lady as Ginny forced the portrait hole open faster than its hinges allowed for.

And there they were. Her heroes. Her idols. Her twins.

"Fred, George," she said hurriedly, "I have an idea for your Joke Shop. Although it's not so much a joke or prank as it is just, well, useful."

"Speak to us, little sister of wisdom!" said the one.

"Oh bringer of good faith and ideas," said the other.

"Oh master of plans and secrets!" they said in unison.

"Secrets are exactly why I've come to you," she grinned as they conferred raised eyebrows.

"Secrets are exactly what we don't like coming from you," that was George.

"There some juicy piece of gossip you weren't planning on sharing?" said Fred, feigning indifference.

Ginny sighed and put her hands on her hips. "You two gonna help me or not?" she demanded.

"First tell us why you want this object of mystery."

"To go against a certain hook-nosed greasy git."

The twins' grins could not have been wider.

. . .

A boy tied around his middle to a swing as three others kicked the swing backwards and forwards until the boy threw up. The same black-haired boy stuffed into a large box and taped in. The bespectacled black-haired boy banging on a door that he had been locked out of while snow fell softly on the ground to rest on his bare feet, a boy inside sniggering at him from the warmth of the house. Green eyes looked on in disgust as a fat boy tried to pick him up and get him to step into a fouled toilet, but he struggled against the stronger boy. A man going to his knees, pleading, crying, shrieking!

Snape pulled back in anger, his eyes finding focus as they settled on a different kneeling figure. Harry Potter panted, the latest lesson taking its toll on him. Was it possible that a person could get worse at something the more they did it? Certainly Potter had mastered that art at least!

"That last memory," he said, his voice tight with control, "What was it?"

The boy spoke as he got to his feet, not quite able to follow what Snape was saying. The sensation of Legilimens could do that to someone; you could get lost in the very memories your enemy had been prying from your mind.

"I don't know. You mean the one where my cousin tried to make me stand in the toilet?"

Snape had to take a breath and answer in a whisper for fear of raging.

"No," he said softly. "I mean the one with a man kneeling in the middle of a darkened room..." he knew that man. Just as he knew what had happened to that man in that room.

"It's...nothing," the boy was a pitiful liar. Maybe to others he could keep a straight face, talk without pauses, look the person in the eye and not flinch...but Snape was not others. Lily could never lie to him either. For some reason that thought made him angrier.

"How do that man and that room come to be inside your head, Potter?" he spat the name, trying to rid himself of his burning resolve to transfigure Harry Potter into a pincushion and stick him with every pin that he could summon this side of the meridian.

"It – it was – just a dream I had," there was the truth. A dream. The boy was miles away from the Dark Lord and yet there was a link between them. Could it be...the blood? Blood, blood, blood! It always came back to bloody blood!

Both of Snape's masters had told him of the return of the Dark Lord. How it was Harry Potter's blood that had revived him from his half-living state. Wormtail would brag of his part in the performance constantly, from taking his own hand for his master to stealing the blood of his best friend's son. Harry Potter's blood. Could there be a connection between them through the blood that they both shared? It was possible...but highly improbable.

"A dream?" repeated Snape, trying to make certain the boy was completely unconscious. Legilimens worked only when the mind was awake. The sleeping mind, or, rather, the dreaming mind, was a maze of memories and unconscious thoughts. The sleeper gets lost in himself. You had to have skin contact to breach the gap using Legilimens when someone was asleep. That was how he had planned on reaching Miss Weasley if she had gotten lost in her own dreams after taking the Dreamful Sleep potion. Could the Dark Lord have created a different form of Legilimens? Is that why he had insisted on Harry Potter's blood instead of any other enemy that could have sufficed?

Potter had not answered him so he continued.

"You do know why we are here, don't you, Potter? You do know why I am giving up my evenings to this tedious job?" actually the job wasn't tedious at all – some of the lessons with Miss Weasley led to deep discussions of the human psyche and explanations of the imagination. The tedious part was Harry Potter.

"Yes," the insolent boy replied. Why couldn't he put aside his anger? That's what Snape was doing. He was filtering it all away from him after each memory that he spied through the boy's eyes. Did Dumbledore know? That was the question he should be asking the headmaster. Did Dumbledore know what his precious Harry Potter had been put through all this time? It made him angrier still to think he had been wrong about Potter all along. Dumbledore had once told him Harry Potter leant more towards Lily's disposition, but he had ignored that comment and continued on his path. And now he had the proof right before him.

The boy had been bullied. Picked on. Assaulted! Every single year until the most unlikely event (according to a muggle at least) had saved him from his fate.

"Remind me why we are here, Potter," he said it more to remind himself than for Potter's sake.

"So I can learn Occlumency," the boy never looked at him.

"Correct, Potter. And dim though you may be – " the boy looked at him then. Snape couldn't believe how easy it was to goad the boy. He couldn't keep his cool. He was as hot-headed as his father. As stubborn as his father! He was his father all over again! " – I would have thought that after over two months of lessons you might have made some progress," he was lying of course. To learn Occlumency you needed more than just two months. You needed two years at the least! Maybe Dumbledore was right; the boy had no time. "How many other dreams about the Dark Lord have you had?"

"Just that one," the boy lied to him again. The flick of an eye, the slight clench of a fist, the shift of his stance. Yes, Harry Potter was a horrible liar. But Potter could not lie because he hated lies. He wanted truth. Of course even if Snape told Potter – in detail – of his father's miserable existence and how he tormented Snape among others, Potter would not believe him. No one ever believed Snape. He had to tell the truth all the time, else one lie slip him up. He had lied to Ginny...no, he would not think about that now! If Potter was going to lie, he had better learn to lie better!

"Perhaps...perhaps you actually enjoy having these visions and dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel special – important?"

"No, they don't," Snape saw the boy clench the handle of his wand and his jaw set. Two actions that came from two different people; James would always hold his wand too tightly and Lily...she would try to hold her tongue by closing her mouth so hard...the boy had some of his mother in him...he could not have survived his childhood if he had been solely like his father. But now he was cocky. And he could not afford to be cocky!

"That is just as well, Potter, because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters."
"No – That's your job, isn't it?" the boy snapped it out before he had time to think. Maybe Snape had pushed him a bit far tonight. His eyes were glimmering green balls of hatred and anger. But the boy was fighting. Even a rat against a wall would bite back, and so had Harry Potter. More than that though; the boy knew Snape's job. He knew what Snape did. Surely now he would put two and two together? Snape had to be cruel to Harry Potter – because he was a spy for Dumbledore and continuously in the Dark Lord's presence! It was the easiest thing to place the pieces side by side and come to that conclusion.

But further than that, the boy had hit the proper mark. Snape was Spy. Teaching, although enjoyable at the best of times and a torture at the worst, had never been his job. Snape was Spy. That was his job, as the boy said.

He stared into Potter's eyes, wondering if Potter would ever know the truth. Those green eyes...so like Lily's...

"Yes, Potter. That is my job. Now, if you are ready, we will start again. One – two – three – Legilimens!"

He was looking into the green eyes. Hating them. Loving them. Remembering them. But Snape could not let himself waver so he murmured the incantation to reach into Potter's mind.

Dementors, a hundred of them, swooping across the lake. Sirius Black next to Harry, gasping for air as grisly hands lunged for him. Dark holes beneath their hoods gave a sucking noise like a drain pulling at air and water. Snape could not keep his concentration when the same night filtered through his own mind. He had not known about Wormtail back then...that Wormtail had been the real reason for the Potter's downfall. He had gone to that shack to avenge the death of Lily Potter as much as the others had. And then Lupin had taken his old friend's hand and Snape's vision had gone black. He had been petrified by his own students! He had been overcome by rage, there was no doubt. He might not have listened to reason... maybe that was another reason why he hated Sirius Black; the man had proven him wrong. He was not concentrating. He felt a sudden switch. The energy flow's direction wavered. Harry Potter had gone through the link! He had managed to Force the penetration away from his mind! There was a shout of "Protego!" and Snape staggered, his wand flying upwards and away from his student, and the Link Switched.

He saw his father shouting at his mother, he was crying in a corner, hiding his beaten side against the wall as blood dripped down amongst his tears. Now he sat alone in his bedroom, older than before, zapping flies from the ceiling – the flies that were trying to get to the stray dog that he had brought home which his father had promptly kicked to death and put in the rafters above his room to rot. There was Pennywhether laughing at him as he tried to mount a bucking broomstick, because she had hidden his transfiguration book with one of the gargoyles high up in the gutters and she wouldn't tell him which gargoyle unless he used that broom.

"ENOUGH!" he broke the Link with as much force as he could. He knew the memory that came after the bucking broomstick memory, and it was better that Harry Potter not see it...not see Snape being tended to by Lily Potter...

"Reparo," the boy had broken one of his jars. "Well, Potter... that was certainly an improvement..." he had used too much force to break the Link. He had just been too shocked by the Switch to be able to react to it properly. Did the boy know what he had just done? Most likely. He looked to the Pensieve. He was silly to have used so much of his energy – the memory that he had been sure to come next was safe in the pensieve...he straightened the stone device, the mists inside swirling a happy grey-blue shimmer. Blue of protection. The boy could not see those memories. He was safe. "I don't remember telling you to use a Shield Charm..." actually he hadn't told the boy anything at all along those lines; he had never thought to see the boy actually break through his Link. Then again, the boy had done a Switch, not a Break... "But there is no doubt that it was effective..." the boy should have used an attack not a defence. Snape wasn't complaining, of course, it had saved him some bruises. The boy had not said anything to him yet. No questions. No snide comments. Nothing. He should have asked. Snape could see it in Potter's eyes: fear. And confusion. Apparently Potter could not grasp the idea of a Little Severus Snape. The Snape he had just seen. The weak Snape. Snivellus...

He hated Potter more than anything right then. The boy was judging him! He had thought...no, Snape was wrong. Snape had thought the boy might be different from James Potter, after seeing the memories he had seen...But Potter had not had the same tortures as Snape. Potter had a place to hide from his tormentors. Snape never had. They were at home. They were at school. They were even outside of all of that too. The fairness of it was laughable!

"Let's try again, shall we?" he said, letting his anger seep through his words. "On the count of three, then. One – two – " here was fairness for Mr Harry Potter, "Legilimens!" he forced his power as hard as he could further into Potter's mind, sending the Link deep, deep, deeper...and then Snape felt something odd. It was as if the Link he had been leading had passed through murky water, slowing it down before allowing it to hurtle through this new area of discovery. It was darker than memory matter, more flowing than imagination and creation. It had structure. It had purpose.

It had Harry Potter hurtling along a black corridor towards a door Snape knew well. The torches flashed orange glows as the boy ran towards the black door. The door opened! Potter was through it, and through the Link Snape felt his joy! He was in the entrance chamber, its blue candles sputtering light onto the many doors available. Snape could feel Potter's sudden insecurity as he looked to each door. Snape had to stop it before Potter could guess the right one! He pushed, he pulled, but the Link was tightly held by the new part of Potter's brain that Snape had accessed. With a wrench of power, Snape yelled! And he was loose.

"POTTER!" two strides and he stood over the boy, panting furiously, eyes glittering. "Explain yourself!"

The boy was too scared and confused not to obey.

"I...dunno what happened," Snape could tell Potter was telling the truth. "I've never seen that before. I mean, I told you, I've dreamed about the door... but it's never opened before..."

And then Snape knew. The Dark Lord had sent him to make a map of the Department of Mysteries so that he could lead Potter to the very Prophecy the Dark Lord feared to fetch himself. And the boy was so curious...it did not matter that the Prophecy was miles away, the boy would succumb to his instincts eventually. Unless he could stop these images from appearing!

"You are not working hard enough!" he had to get angry now – nothing else seemed to work with Potter! Maybe he could force some defiance from the boy! "You are lazy and sloppy, Potter, it is small wonder that the Dark Lord – "

"Can you tell me something, Sir?" the boy interrupted, his anger equalling Snape's. "Why do you call Voldemort the Dark Lord? I've only ever heard Death Eaters call him that."

Of all the insolent, unimaginable things to say! He opened his mouth, ready to let loose a torrent of words far outreaching the pitiful vocabulary of the teenager before him, when a woman screamed. He snapped his head upwards, his anger forgotten as other instincts took its place. He sent tendrils of his power through the stonework below his feet, reaching towards the Castle. He sensed a great gathering above them.

"What the – " the stonework could not tell him more. He turned to Potter, "Did you see anything unusual on your way down here, Potter?" Snape was calm again, his face set to cold stone. Potter had the decency to shake his head instead of giving an answer that would have made Snape angry again. Snape swept to the door and out of sight, his wand held in his hand ever at the ready. He knew Potter was too curious not to follow.

At the top of the dungeon stairs, Snape had to push through students to get to the side of the staircase where his eyes fell across the scene. Trelawney was screaming, although without the noise muffled by the dungeon walls Snape could hear the cry beneath it. She looked slightly more mad than normal to Severus, but he had never given her much of his attention after...well, after he had messed up spying on her. That was still a sore spot for him. He reckoned if he had known the full prophecy he never would have told the Dark Lord. He also reckoned if he had known Trelawney's "predictions" better he would have laughed instead. Even though she had sounded completely different to her normal airy-fairy self when he had overheard her and Dumbledore that night so very long ago...

"I refuse to accept it!" her denial was accompanied by a shaking of sobs. Snape turned his head slightly to the side. Next to him, walking slowly down the large stone staircase, alone, was Umbridge, her toad-like mouth much too wide for Snape's liking. His wand hand twitched in dislike, but he steadied his need to blast the woman from her feet. He did not like her...not just because of the insolent way in which she treated all of his fellow staff members, but more so because of the insolent way in which she treated him! As if he didn't know how to teach a bunch of half-wit students the basics in potion making! And bringing up that stupid Defence position in front of those students! Did she want a riot on her hands? Demeaning teachers first, then removing student's respect (or fear in his case,) second. Third came a full-blown uprising! He only hoped she would get the brunt of it when "mutiny!" was called in the corridors. Professor Umbridge would find her teachers to be as incapable as she assumed they were if that were to happen. He licked his lips in anticipation...

" – and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?" Umbridge was saying, which only brought on more hideous howls from Professor Trelawney. Her eyes appeared three times larger than the normal two-time magnification – Snape wondered if her tears were the reason. He leaned against the banister lazily, wondering where Dumbledore had gotten to. He had said he would be in the grounds, but surely he was done with whatever task had bidden him outside the castle? He looked around him at the scene that Umbridge had so artfully created. The entire student congregation was witness to her power and the utter humiliation of a Hogwart's teacher. She had chosen her set well – especially standing on the stairs like that, it added an extra few feet to her height and made her seem more powerful than she really was. From Snape's vantage point, he could see the quivering in her throat every time she spoke, which was probably why her voice was so much higher than normal at the moment. To everyone else she would appear gloating and enjoying, but Snape could see the truth – she was holding herself back. It was like watching a cat wanting to pounce, see the shivering in the taught muscles, but knowing that the crocodile was somewhere under the water waiting...just waiting...could she pull back fast enough if the crocodile launched itself from the water as she concentrated on the buck?

And then there were two bucks.

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall? And your authority for that statement is..." Umbridge had stepped down a few steps now; maybe the predator knew better than to attack when there was protection, and Snape could hear the quaver in her voice that betrayed her surety.

Then Snape felt someone tap into the castle and the doors swung open, revealing a serene Dumbledore, eyes twinkling.

"That would be mine," he said. His eyes found Severus' and he saw the slightest wink – or maybe it was just an offset blink. Snape rolled his eyes and, finally, put his wand away. The old man knew how to make an entrance.

Umbridge was rattling off one of her decrees, but Snape was not concentrating. Instead he scanned the audience, curious as to their responses to this debacle. He could see those dunderheads (such typical girls,) Lavender and Parvati holding each other as they held back sobs. He saw the red-head twins glaring with uncontrolled anger at Umbridge – probably thinking how brilliant it would be if the roof collapsed on top of her, or the stairs collapsed under her (that would get rid of the dungeons as well, two for the price of one...yes, that was the option they'd choose). He saw his Slytherins, some openly showing their enjoyment, others confused and shocked by the display, and some bright sparks showing absolutely nothing, their faces blank masks that no one could read. The Ravenclaws were more concerned about who would end up teaching them most likely, that could be the only reason for their concern – not that Trelawney was much of a teacher. The Hufflepuffs, soft hearted as they were, looked as if half the house wanted to run up to Trelawney and give her a hug – some even looked as if they thought a few hugs would do Umbridge some good to. Although he saw some who thought the hugs would do better if they smothered the toad in the process.

And then Snape looked to the other Gryffindors, and his eyes found Ginny's. She was glowing red...again! But this time the red was shimmering hot. No one else appeared to notice it, but the other students were not shuffling closer to her to get a better view. She caught his eye and she stared daggers at him – as if it was his fault! He felt anger stir in his navel, but he repressed it. He didn't look away though, and eventually Miss Weasley could not stand the glare and turned on her tail and left. This time Snape didn't feel as smug as the last time he had won their staring contest.

" – and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, his voice barely raised but still carrying easily throughout the cavernous entrance hall. Snape had learnt the art of talking from the best, truly.

"No – no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore!" shrieked Trelawney. Snape shuddered at the disrespect, not even a professor, or headmaster. The girl had lost her wits at long last it would seem. It was not as if she had much to lose though...

"No," it was the first time Dumbledore had raised his voice above a pleasant conversational tone, and the effect was immediate. The whispers fled from every mouth, and sobs shuddered to a halt. "It is my wish that you remain, Sybill."

And of course Snape knew why he wanted Sybill Trelawney to stay. It was not his wish, as Dumbledore so delicately put it – it was his command. If she stepped out of the castle, she would be hunted for the prophecy she had given. Then the Dark Lord need not go through with his plan...

He looked to Harry Potter. The boy was looking Dumbledore in the eye, and although Dumbledore had made eye contact with almost everyone in the vicinity, he had left Harry Potter spare. Snape could see how that riled the boy, but with attention focused on Umbridge and Sybill, there was actually no reason for Dumbledore to look at the boy. That was odd.

McGonagall was taking Sybill Trelawney – now no longer a professor – back to her rooms in her spiral tower, supported by Professor Sprout and followed by Professor Flitwick. Snape watched them up the stairs, his mind ticking, as Dumbledore and Umbridge continued to talk in the background. Then he heard a gasp and turned to see Dumbledore say, "This is Firenze. I think you'll find him suitable."

Umbridge seethed, but for once bit her toad tongue and kept quiet.

"I do believe supper is in order," smiled Dumbledore and made his way past the crowds of students who parted for him like magnets facing the wrong way and then followed after him as they found their path again, all spilling into the Great Hall for supper. The four climbing the stairs were forgotten and the fifth standing in her stupor was ignored. Snape sighed and made his way through the Hall and up onto the dais where the Head Table stood. He sat down next to Dumbledore in McGonagall's seat.

"Well that went well," Snape said as he broke off a piece of bread from the loaf before him. There was a selection of pate and he helped himself to some.

"You think so?" asked Dumbledore, a small crease between his brows that gave away his concern.

"Well other than making yourself more of a target for Umbridge than before, yes, I think it went splendidly."

"I would believe you, Severus," said Dumbledore as he too began dishing up his supper, "except I detect a hint of sarcasm in your voice."

"Only a hint?" asked Snape, disappointed, "And here I was trying so hard to make it obvious!"

Dumbledore chuckled before he asked, "So am I to expect a late night meeting tonight?"

"Not so late if I can help it. I'm more worn out than I look."

"Worn out? I thought I was the one who just came from a confrontation."

"Yours was with a toad, mine was with a brat. I suppose we are even then."

"Ah, yes, the boy's lesson," nodded Dumbledore as if he had forgotten. "Any improvements?"

"I'd rather leave it for out meeting."

"Alright, Severus. Ah, I think you'll need to look up now."

Frowning, Snape looked up and his eye immediately caught Ginny Weasley's. His surprise vanished and was replaced by a scowl as he and Miss Weasley commenced their staring contest. He won, but he figured it was more because she was too weary to play. Dumbledore was watching him with that stupid twinkle back in his eye.

"You should not make your game too obvious, Severus," he chided, although there was no real reproach in his voice. "Some people are starting to ask questions."

"She started this game," he said, knowing how childish it sounded even as he said it.

"And who shall end it? Only you can. Look at the poor girl – she's miserable. She does not know how to make amends."

"That is because she cannot make amends."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."

"But you do know better," Snape said through cold lips.

"Yes, I do. She wounded you and now you feel you must do the same to her. You are not jealous, you are vengeful. And a little immature, but we must all give into our younger sides once in a while," smiled Dumbledore sadly.

"Like making a grand entrance to awe the ignorant?"

"Oh, Severus, they are not ignorant. Merely impressionable."

"And you have certainly impressed, Headmaster," he could not keep the sneer away.

"That is a part of my job!" laughed Dumbledore. "One part brains, the rest," he shrugged, "nothing a good show cannot cure."

"The perfect ingredients for a perfect potion. The same ingredients, I might add, I am using on Miss Weasley."

"This is not a show, Severus. It's a humiliation."

"Good! The girl deserves some humility!"

"And are you really the one to give it to her? Has she not suffered enough already?"

Snape turned in his seat to face Dumbledore, his black eyes glittering like black beetles in firelight. "Do you know why she was with the boy?" he asked of the Headmaster.

"By 'the boy' I suppose you mean Mr Michael Corner?"

"Yes, that one. Do you know why?"

"I do believe they are in a relationship and as such, certain...experiences must follow. It is ordinary for such occurrences in a school – especially a school filled to the brim with teenagers and hormones running circles with each other."

"Hormones were not the only things running circles with that girl...she succumbed to it. The thing inside her left behind by the diary – "

"Perhaps this conversation is meant more for out meeting later on," interrupted Dumbledore.

Snape could not defy him. The Headmaster was right, of course; too many ears and eyes were in the great hall, not all of them at the Head Table.

"But onto another matter – Firenze will require accommodations. I thought you would enjoy the opportunity to work with Minerva in transfiguring one of the downstairs classrooms for him."

"Enjoy?" Snape laughed at the prospect. "It is more likely we will end up in a confrontation of wills."

"Oh now, Severus, is that a way to talk of your competition?" Minerva McGonagall took the seat on the other side of Dumbledore with a sigh. "I would love to take you on after dealing with that," she said.

"Now, now Minerva, be nice to your peers," tutted Snape.

"Since when do you have a monopoly on insensitivity?" she snapped.

"Not a monopoly, only a perfection of the art. The point is to not let it get to you."

"Or to let other things get it instead," mumbled McGonagall, as she ate straight from the serving platter.

Snape smiled and put aside his knife and fork.

"Alright, Headmaster, I suppose I'll see you later for that meeting."

He was surprised to see Dumbledore staring at the Gryffindor table. It was only after he scanned it himself that he saw that Potter was absent.

Maybe Snape could not defy the Headmaster, but Potter would do what he wanted.

(A/N: Please let me know your thoughts! I promise the next chapter will be up-and-coming at a MUCH faster rate than this last time. Also - I'm going to finish the story, so no worries, 'kay? WonderWhiteRabbit hopping off)