...

Even after he retrieved the books, the glass door to the bookcase hadn't returned. He glanced over and saw that Professor Peverell had stacked a mountain of papers and was beginning to grade them, paying little attention to him. Severus relaxed and flipped the books open.

Of course, his survival instinct being in full force, what he tackled first was the recipe revision assignment.

Severus began to write slowly. At first hesitant and cautious, then wrote faster and faster.

Peverell's assignments were actually fun. The parchment was far finer than his usual, the ink clear and thick, undiluted with water, and the quill moved so smoothly it felt like it was flying.

For the past four years, most of his Potions assignments with Professors Rowle and Jackson have simply been compilations of textbook information or reviews of potions he's made in class. Never before had he been asked to tear apart a textbook recipe, and the instruction to rip open and eviscerate the author's guidance was much to Severus's liking.

Before he knew it, he had made his way through three sheets of parchment, and was on the fourth, hunched over the desk and scribbling furiously when something brushed against his wrist.

He looked up to see a plate of sandwiches and a cup of tea on his desk. He blinked.

"Dinner time. Eat." A nonchalant voice.

He looked up to see Peverell at his desk, picking up the same sort of sandwich that had been placed in front of him. He hadn't spared him a glance and was still grading with tired eyes, though his stack of homework parchment had shrunk by a third.

Severus picked up the sandwich hesitantly. He hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch, and the smell of the food made his appetite come alive. As soon as he took a bite, he quickly devoured the rest. He downed the last drops of tea and got back to his task.

He didn't notice how many hours have passed.

When he was finished, he had filled nine sheets of parchment with dense handwriting. It was about the length of a small thesis.

Severus sat still for a minute, staring down at his work, his mind blank.

With a soft swish of his robes, Professor Peverell was suddenly standing beside his desk.

"May I read it?"

Severus looked up at the professor, who waited patiently for him to nod.

Nine sheets of parchment. The professor read slowly from the first page. He unfolded each of Severus's clumsy references and read them with the seriousness of a scholar reading a formal thesis.

After reading to the conclusion, Peverell looked down at the boy, looked him straight in the eye, and smiled.

"Excellent."

In the pitch black eyes, the pupils widened.

"A fifteen-year-old who hasn't even taken an OWL wrote this on the fly in four hours. No one would believe it. A narrow topic, but very much focused, the explanations are spot-on, and the criticism of the original author is brilliant. The last is very important, since if you're going to get a degree, you've got to be able to bite."

Severus blinked. A compliment... Did I just hear a good job, a praise?

Peverell said his potions assignment was excellent. The Potions Master had praised him.

Then, with a smile in his vivid green eyes, the professor reached out as if by accident and picked up a crumpled piece of parchment from the corner of the small desk.

Severus opened his mouth, then closed it hastily. It was... something he'd written a bit gleefully and then thrown away.

As he read through the half-filled parchment, Peverell laughed out loud. A small bell seemed to ring. Severus looked up at him, dumbfounded. Despite their different ages, genders, and facial features, when the professor let out a laugh, it was as if Severus was hearing her.

"Alas, this criticism is a bit unfair to the author. I don't know him personally, but I'm pretty sure he didn't write his textbooks while 'high on the fumes of Valerian root and forgetting his beans, which would be otherwise soporific anyways'. Rather, I'm sure he's a man of character who has bent his obstinance as a potions master for the safety of his students."

Severus ducked his head, blushing bright red up to his neck. ...He'd been a little too gleeful when he'd written it.

"As you may have guessed by now, the important thing about textbook recipes is that they are standardized for safety. The textbook one is far less effective and more likely to fail than your modified recipe, but the likelihood of 'dangerous failure' is much lower, and given the level of target group, that's the main consideration."

Severus slowly nodded. As he completed the assignment, he had actually had that realisation. The professor chuckled.

"Following the textbook recipe, teenaged students making a Draught of Living Death are less likely to be hypnotised or put into a coma even if they make a mistake, and if they do make an unpredictable explosion, it's generally in small-scale. Do you realise how much of an advantage it is for the poor professors supervising dozens of teenagers to be less likely to write obituary letters to their parents? We have a mountain of paperwork to deal with when a student blows up in class."

Severus nodded his head intently, in complete agreement with him.

The professor was right. Paperwork was a pain in the arse. And if some fool kids should die, they should at least die alone in their beds, not blown up in a classroom; furthermore, the bits of student parts would be a lot to clean up afterwards!

Peverell laughed harder at his earnest expression.

.

...

Severus walked down the corridor, his eyes in a state of daze. In his hand was Peverell's curfew pass, but even more precious, clutched like a piece of gold, was a small, thesis-bound book.

Peverell read the nine parchment pages of assignments from the beginning again. He smoothed them out with a steady hand, and then slowly flicked his wand.

A thin ring of black and golden smoke rose up and enveloped the parchments. A moment later, the smoke cleared, and in its place was a booklet bound in a plain black cover.

Peverell picked up the thin binding and held it out to Severus.

"It's not quite on the level for publication yet, and you'll have to make some changes here and there, but your first paper is always precious. Take it."

Severus stretched out his arm, which felt like stone, and took the copy with a stiff motion. The boy's face was completely expressionless, unlike his hands, which clutched the thin booklet as tightly as if it were a golden plate.

Peverell stared at him, then, in an awkward, very awkward movement, reached out and patted the boy's shoulder.

The boy's face became even more expressionless. It became stony, and he glared at the professor's hand that patted him. Peverell withdrew his hand and offered a little stiffly.

"Today, you handed in a much better assignment than I expected, and I'd like to give you a small reward, not just some house points, but... is there anything you'd like to have? If it's suitable, I'll consider it."

A reward? After he'd made me this copy? He already gave me this, and wished to reward me?

Severus's jaw dropped open, his head completely incapable of comprehension, saying nothing. The moment was short-lived. His Slytherin brain came alive in an instant, kicking into high gear.

The professor smirked as he watched the boy's jet-black eyes begin to burn with clarity.

A hesitant fingertip slowly pointed to an old book on his desk.

"...This book... May I borrow it and read it? Three days... No, I'll read it in a day and bring it right back."

Peverell glanced at the book the boy pointed to. It was a rare and obscure copy, not even in the Hogwarts Library, that he had vaguely noticed Severus snatching up from his bookcases earlier but had left alone. He shook his head.

Seeing the boy's eyes lose a little of their clarity, the professor answered.

"It is not a book to be left in a dorm with young children. I cannot allow you to take it out, but if you will, why don't you come and read it here in my office when I'm here? I can spare a couple of hours a week."

The black eyes widened. The professor pretended not to notice.

"Of course, I know that's not a very enticing offer, since no student ever shows up at the Deputy Head's office on his own initiative, but-"

"'Tis enticing! No, I mean, yes, on my own initiative, show up, yeah, Professor!"

It was a rushed, chaotic response, but it was clearly an expression of affirmation. Peverell smirked and nodded.

"I'll be in my office this Friday after four, until six, if you'd like to come, Snape."

.

.

.

Severus walked down the corridor in a state of shock. Even now, he couldn't believe it.

He had made an appointment to see Professor Peverell. Not just this week, but every week, he could come to his office, pick a book from the shelves, and read it. He also invited the boy to ask him any questions he had while reading.

His steps slowed to a turtle's pace, then sped up. He staggered, then straightened up, then stumbled again.

Thoughts rushed in and out of his blank head, overwhelmed by indescribable emotions.

Finally, just before the entrance to his House began to loom into view, he stopped walking and jumped to the wall.

He spun around and leapt, until he was afraid the top of his head would touch the ceiling.

...I never thought... Peverell... he's... favoring me!

I, Severus Snape, have become a professor's favorite, favoritised by a potions master!

If Lily had been around to hear, she would have rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue at just how Slytherin that conclusion was.

Anyway, there was no one else around, so Severus smirked and continued his thoughts undisturbed.

Every week, outside of class, he got a chance to see Peverell closely. The professor said to ask questions if he didn't understand any parts from the books, but he didn't plan only to do that.

Yup, he would be subtle with his questions; he would appeal to Peverell that he's not only confident in potion theory, but also in practicals. So far, his potions class hadn't let the students try their hand at brewing a potion, thus obviously he wouldn't know their individual brewing skills.

And after that step... I'll actively slander Lupin... No, well, I'd be just revealing the truth about Lupin's skills!(or lack thereof) So that I'd eventually take away that prick's undeserving lab assistant position and make it MINE!

Severus Snape's petite, blackest heart was being filled with true Slytherin bliss as he planned to defame his yearmate to the hilt.

..