Serverus Snape frowned as he waited for his next class to file into the dungeon where he held lessons. This lesson would be the key one, the one that determined everything for the next seven years, would be pivotal in how he dealt with his past, with his future. From the moment he saw Penny Wyrm tackle Harry Potter in a hug at the Sorting Feast, he'd been in deep conflict with himself...and everything he'd learned since had only left him more conflicted.

The pattern of the first breakfast continued each day, with more and more first years gathering at one table or another - wherever Penny wound up sitting in Harry's lap for food - until by today the only ones who wasn't socializing with the entire rest of the First Year was Malfoy and a few of the other more egotistical Slytherin First Years. The second day the Ravenclaws had joined, wanting to learn what was going on. By the third day, Penny and Harry were moving from table to table and even Serverus' own students were involved. Something about Penny's open, honest friendliness broke down all barriers, save those who actively raised their own.

What he'd heard of their classes had added to his disquiet. Harry apparently was studious but hesitant to put himself forward, while Penny was energetic but well behaved. He knew that from when he'd had the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years for their first Potions class. Penny had behaved herself despite plainly being excited, and had managed to catch those around her in mistakes and drawing their attention to it before it became problematic without causing bad feeling. A simple call of "I think you should double-check your notes" averted several possible disasters.

The only two classes that had apparently brought undue attention to Penny's behavior was Herbology and Transfiguration. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had Herbology together, and Penny had apparently attached herself to Harry's side as soon as they entered the greenhouse, her tail going around his shoulders as they worked together, since they were partnered the moment the class started. In Transfiguration, Penny was apparently a natural, as she was able to turn her matchstick into a needle as soon as it was given to her. Given the major hurdle in Transfiguration was being able to visualize the transformation to the extent you had no doubt it would happen, it wasn't surprising that a Shifter who was used to changing herself from full human to full animal and anywhere between since birth would have no trouble with that aspect.

He hadn't even drawn any undue attention to his inquiries since the pair of them were the focus of gossip among the staff, especially considering Penny was still climbing the walls every night to cuddle with Harry in bed. Pomona had caved by the end of the first day and told her when the bed checks were done, so as long as Penny was in her own dorm at those times and she didn't get caught climbing the walls, the staff could pretend not to be aware of it. When the Heads of House had discussed that with Dumbledore in a special meeting two evenings before, Serverus had only halfheartedly objected to 'bending the rules' to 'spoil the Potter brat', but everyone - even he - could tell his heart wasn't in it. Pomona'd actually had the gall to ask if he was feeling alright.

As the Slytherin and Gryffindor first years filed in, he waited calmly while watching them all. He knew them all by sight now - he hardly needed to call role - but he would anyway. It would make a good opening. Once they were all seated, he went through role call...and then it was time. "Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new...celebrity."

And there it was. That slight flinch. The unconscious hunching of shoulders as though flinching away from an expected strike. The widened eyes. The uncertain look up. They were all exceptionally slight, so subtle that anyone else would have missed them completely...and even he would have missed them had he not been both looking for them and half expecting them...but on seeing them, he knew them for exactly what they were.

...after all, he'd seen that self-same reaction in the mirror far too often growing up before meeting Lily.

To gain time to gather his thoughts, he went through his standard, well practiced speech about the subtle art of Potions, ending on his usual comment about expecting his students to be dunderheads. Unlike he normally did, however, he didn't stay at the front of the class as he spoke. Instead, he wandered seemingly at random through the class as he spoke, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at the way those he walked by seemed so uncertain...until he saw how dutifully Harry was copying down everything he'd said in a reasonable bullet point pattern. "Potter," he spoke up firmly.

And there it was again. Harry didn't jump from the shout as though surprised. He flinched away before slowly turning to face him. "Yes, Professor?" he asked uncertainly, though thankfully managing not to stammer.

Serverus' hate seethed inside him, eager and desperate to lash out at this Potter spawn, the child of the one who took everything away...but his pain was stronger, far stronger than his hate, and so he spoke gently. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry frantically glanced back and forth as he furrowed his brow. Eventually, however, he apologetically offered, "I don't know, sir..."

Snape stared down at him calmly for a time, then spoke up. "Fame isn't everything, after all," he observed evenly. "And if I told you to find me a Bezoar?"

Harry was still plainly uncertain of himself, but he seemed to be starting to calm down. "I...it sounds familiar, Professor, but..." His voice trailed off.

Serverus leaned down to Harry, his voice still calm. "Didn't get a chance to crack open a book before the train?" he asked, quietly and gently. Even that much wasn't enough, as Harry's head hung in shame. Stepping away, he continued. "And the difference between monkshod and wolfsbane? Do you know that?"

Harry blinked thoughtfully. "Umm...are...aren't they the same plant?" he asked uncertainly.

Serverus let his lips curl up ever so slightly. "Indeed, also known as aconite," he allowed quietly. He walked away. Noticing one of the students getting too energetic, he spoke more harshly. "Miss Granger, choose one question to answer. Let other students participate as well."

The chided student sat back, but continued to speak.

Serverus didn't give any points to any Gryffindors that class...but he didn't take any away, either. He could feel his hate for James Potter roiling in his heart, yearning to lash out at his spawn and make him feel his pain...but his pain was far, far stronger than his hate.

And all his pain could see was himself in Lily's son, and he could not bring himself to add to that...