As could be expected, Harry thought frequently of Enola and her words of warning. So much so that he would often earn a whack around the ear from Hermione if he wasn't suitably paying attention in class. It wasn't enough to make him learn his lesson, however, seeing as he'd spent their potions lesson surveying the other students, as if he'd be able to pick out someone for being suspicious or untrustworthy.

Enola had made it perfectly clear that, based on her own assumptions, Voldemort would need someone within Hogwarts itself to ensure that the door was unlocked when he eventually came calling. When that would be was anyone's guess, especially when her level of communication had gone quieter. The natural conclusion to jump to was that the likely candidate would be from Slytherin, which was why Harry was now taking acute interest in everyone in the dungeon.

He startled when Matthew coughed pointedly beside him and he did well not to drop his quill. His friend had a tendency of sneaking up on him, and it was still something that Harry was never quite prepared for. Matthew and Hermione, much like everyone else, were busy packing away their belongings, eager to get to lunch. Harry had been lost in his head to such an extent that he hadn't heard Snape give them their leave, and he had the good grace to blush at the fact he'd been caught out whilst people watching.

"Head in the clouds there, Harry?" Matthew asked with a smirk.

"I was just…thinking," he lamely replied.

"Or judging?"

"How could you possibly know?"

"Because I heard exactly the same as you from Enola…well, I heard it from you but the point still stands. You wouldn't be you if you didn't start trying to find a solution straight away, and that means you're now looking for Voldemort's accomplice."

"So you think she's right about that?"

"I think she thinks there is one and, with nothing else to go on, it'll at least keep you occupied for the time being. Lord knows what you're like when there's little to do."

"Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?"

"Harry, have you seen what school we're in? It'd be the ordinary that stands out like a sore thumb, not the other way around."

"Frankly, I'm rather concerned that you didn't pay any attention whatsoever in that class just now," Hermione chimed in. "I've got enough work with helping Matthew recover from all the school time he's missed. I won't be making a gap in my schedule for you if you also fall behind."

"Don't believe her for one second, Harry. It's an empty threat to make you do exactly as she wants."

She narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Do you want our study sessions to come to an end then?"

"I've already told you that I don't need to catch up. I was already reading ahead of schedule."

"Need I remind you what normally happens after our study sessions?"
Matthew blanched. "You wouldn't take that away from me."

"Would you still call it an empty threat?"

He turned back to Harry. "Do whatever she wants. I'm not throwing myself under the bus for you, Harry. You better shape up and get your act together, because I'm not suffering the fatal consequences."

Harry grimaced. "Do I want to know what's going on once you've finished studying?"

"Look…you're a bright lad, Harry. I think you can piece it together."

It took just a matter of moments. "...oh."

"Yeah."

"Please don't tell me about that."

"Until you're wanting some advice when you've got your own relationship, yeah?"

"And even then, I think I'd rather go through the embarrassment of talking to Sirius and Remus than listen to what you've got to say."

"I should say that that wounds me, but I don't want that conversation just as much as you."

"Does this mean there is someone in the picture?" Hermione asked, neatly arranging her quills in a precise manner, trying to look nonchalant about the subject.

Harry felt strangely uncomfortable. "Not at the moment, no. Can we move on? Please?"

"It's just that I've heard plenty of rumours of people being interested. I've been speaking to Ginny quite a lot, you see, and she seems to be the nexus of all the vital information on that front. So if you need a handy guide to find someone suitable…"

"No thanks."

"It might help you destress," Matthew pointed out.

"I'm not stressed."

"You're more wound up than a watch. You've spent the past hour glaring at people whenever you weren't stirring your potion. Incorrectly, I might add, judging by the colour of what you handed in."

"I don't need your critique. I'm sure Snape will be more than willing to provide that."

As he brought up the professor, Harry couldn't help but look towards him. The Potion's Master currently had his back to the departing class, wiping away the chalk off the board manually, as if that was his way of calming down after having to deal with a bunch of teenagers. Harry's thoughts had always been so black-and-white when it came to the Head of Slytherin but, since Malfoy Manor, those perspectives had shifted to an entirely more confusing place.

"Do you think that Snape could be the guy?" he proposed to his friends. "The insider?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Are we going through this again? I thought we'd moved past this after our first year."

"Of course he isn't working for Voldemort," Hermione hissed. "If he was, you wouldn't be standing here right now."

"You'd be dead," Matthew said, as if it needed explaining. "Or still imprisoned. He went out of his way to ensure that didn't happen. I don't like it, but I think it's time that you give him the benefit of the doubt."

"I was worried that you were going to say that," Harry grumbled.

"Why?"

"Because I feel as if I need to speak to him about what happened. It's been hanging in the air ever since and nothing is going to be normal until I clear that elephant from the room. And if the actual insider is a Slytherin student, he might be able to shed some light on the situation."

Matthew patted him on the back. "Rather you than me, mate."

"Are you going to do it now?" Hermione asked.

"Better now than never," Harry sighed. "If I don't get it out of the way, I won't ever get around to doing it. I won't ever work up the nerves."

"Do you want us to stay with you?"

Matthew's eyes widened. "When did I agree to this?"
"When you said you loved me," she retorted with a triumphant grin.

"You've got me there. I can't even be angry with you about that."

"I think I need to do this on my own," Harry said. "Thanks anyway, though. If you're willing to deal with Snape on my behalf, that's the true meaning of friendship. But I know that Matthew's dying to get some food."

The other boy patted him on the back. "Now that's the true meaning of friendship. I really appreciate your support in this most trying of times."

Hermione didn't look as pleased. "Only if you're sure. Just please don't say or do anything that'll get yourself put in detention. Or expelled, knowing your track record."

"Hey!" Harry complained. "I'm not the one who got kicked out of school. Your boyfriend is the rebel. What does that say about you?"

"That my taste in men has been severely compromised by being around the two of you. I fear that the effects are permanent."

"Too right," Matthew declared as he started to lead her away by the arm. "We'll save you a sandwich, Harry. Maybe some crisps too if you're lucky."

Watching them leave was a surprisingly difficult thing to do as he contemplated what exact madness was plaguing him to come up with this idea. Harry knew that he should have just followed him, that his afternoon was going to be much simpler if he did so, and yet he stood by the decision. Once the two of them had left him in their wake, he pretended to pack his things away, even though that job had already been taken care of, just in case Snape snapped at his delayed departure.

The professor had abandoned the chalkboard by now, going through the process of arranging small phials along a cupboard behind his desk. The work looked to be tedious and precise, which wasn't really the sort of thing that Harry would have liked to have been interrupting. But, hedging his bets, he awkwardly crept towards the front of the classroom, wondering if his continued presence alone would be enough to make Snape pay attention, or whether he'd be forced to state the obvious out of sheer spite on Snape's part.

He should have known straight away that it was going to be the latter.

"Umm…sir…"

If Snape was at all surprised at the fact that Harry was still there, and was the only student in the vicinity, then he didn't show it. There was no startled jump, nor was there a frantic clutching of the chest as he attempted to catch his breath. The only slight sign of shock, or at least disgruntled curiosity, was the way his left eyebrow arched subtly. A silent question. It was just that Harry didn't quite know what he was asking.

"If you're wanting a second chance to properly brew an Elixir of Effervescence, then you've come to the wrong place," he said.

And then he was turning back around, continuing with his previous task of sorting through bottled potions of various shades and colours. Harry was left standing there, his brow furrowed and his mouth hanging slightly open. He didn't really know what he'd been expecting, but it would at least have been nice to have a conversation that lasted more than one sentence each. Was the professor doing it on purpose? Did he know what Harry was trying to accomplish and was therefore attempting to spare them both the potential awkwardness?

"It's…not about any schoolwork, sir."

"Then Professor McGonagall is a perfectly capable Head of House who can tend to any and every pastoral needs you might be looking for."

Harry grimaced, if just at the thought of being a poor Slytherin looking for personal advice and their only option being going to Snape. Would he get involved if a relationship had turned sour? What if a student was missing home? Or had questions about their body that they didn't truly understand? Was Snape the one who'd provide a shoulder for them to cry upon? It had taken six years, but Harry was finally able to feel some true sympathy for the snakes.

"It's about what happened at Malfoy Manor. Obviously."

The growing silence had grown to be torturous, which was why Harry blurted out the words with little care or tact. Before he'd stepped up to the plate, he'd imagined going about things in a delicate manner, which was seen as the best way of not annoying Snape too much. That had promptly been thrown out of the window at the first sign of annoyance, and now Harry was severely regretting that course of action once the dust settled and the quiet returned.

Snape only had to turn around in a small circle and yet he managed to make it as slow and painful as humanly possible. Harry was sure that his face was pale and his hands were clammy, and he wished that the professor didn't have such an effect on him. He needed to be strong. He needed to be worthy of countless people coming to his rescue at the drop of a hat. If he couldn't stand up to one man, for what was supposed to be a rather pleasant conversation at the end of the day, then what chance did he have of being the hero everyone wanted him to be?

"...obviously," Snape echoed sardonically.

"I realised that…I haven't actually thanked you for saving me."

"Okay."

"So…yeah…thank you."

"Is that all?"

Snape looked just as uncomfortable as Harry was feeling, although his face was usually quite pale to begin with. A silence ensued, wrapping around the classroom until it was practically stifling. Harry knew that there were plenty more things to be said but, if the conversation was going to continue to be so stilted and painful, then it was probably best to cut his losses. He'd tried to make an effort and he could console himself with that fact. If he was quick, he could still catch the back end of lunch.

"I…guess so."

Harry turned on his heel, practically hearing Snape sigh in relief. He reached for his bookbag, swung it over his shoulder, and headed straight for the door, hoping to consign this sorry moment to the history books. But then he stopped. Because, deep down, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to move on unless he got some proper explanations. He was owed that, seeing as it directly revolved around his life.

"Actually…no," he said, once more spinning on the spot. He was starting to get vertigo. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I choose not to abandon you?"

"Exactly."

"Can't you contemplate just how messy things would have been if I'd made that decision?"

"No one would have known. No one would have known that you were the one to do it. It was absolute chaos. You could have gotten away with it."

"You had company."

"Malfoy? He's been in your pocket since day one so that wouldn't have been a problem. With the state he was in, all it would have taken was one thinly veiled threat and he would have remained silent forever."

"And the girl. I must admit that she was an unknown variable. I wasn't expecting her to be there, nor do I know who she even is."

"She isn't important."

Snape smirked. "You've always been quick to temper, Potter, and that protectiveness has just made it plainly obvious that she's wormed her way into your affections. How? Who is she? How was she there? She's not a student."

"I'm not here to talk about her."

At the moment, it felt like a nice secret to be keeping. Of course, Matthew and Hermione knew about Enola. He'd already dealt with that particular mess, and quite poorly too. But, for the time being, Enola's existence could be kept under wraps. Harry felt like it was the only way, at the moment, that he could protect her. It was, in a sense, his attempts to return the favour after she'd saved his skin at the manor.

"No, you're here to extract information from me that'll only serve to inflate your already oversized ego," Snape argued.

"I don't have an ego!"

"Says the boy fishing for answers as to why he's so important, when that's already been well documented by people and newspapers alike."

"I didn't ask for any of that! I don't know what you think of me…well, I do, seeing as you've made that clear over the years…but I don't like the fame. I never have done. I'd much prefer it if people didn't know my name. My life would have been much simpler. Ever since I arrived at this school, you've looked down at me for something I've had no control over."

"I assure you that I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Lies. I thought Slytherins were supposed to be more cunning than to be caught out so easily."

"I'd watch your tongue if I were you, Potter. I feel as if I'm doing well not to dock you house points so far, but my patience is quickly wearing thin."

"Do you think I care about house points? Do you think I really care about trivial stuff like that after what I've been through?"

"Will your fellow Gryffindors share that same opinion when they find out you've wiped out their total?"

"I'd like to think so, yeah. Because I've been mentoring lots of people in the school, and I've got the impression that, because of that, they're starting to appreciate just how dangerous the world is. Many of them, just like me, are no longer able to look at this wondrous place and society with rose tinted glasses."

"Yes, I've heard about your teaching exploits. Just another example of you wanting to be the centre of attention."

"If you ask Matthew or Hermione, they'll tell you straight away that I had to be pushed into that position. I didn't think I had any right to teach other students, especially those who are older than me, but I realised I can give them an insight into actual lived experience. That might just prove crucial if they find themselves in a fight, which grows more likely every single day."

"I'd rather not have to speak to either of your friends. They're just as insufferable as you."

"Do you ever get bored of the animosity? Do you ever wish you weren't so petulant?"

That evidently crossed a line. "50 points from Gryffindor!"

"To be honest, I imagined I'd be in a much worse position by now so I've still got some wriggle room. Because it's the bit I'm most confused about. You hate me. You can't even stand looking at me. So why, when push came to shove, did you save my life?"

Harry was certain that he was going to get docked even more points and, as much as he might have refuted the claim, he didn't want to decimate what everyone else had accomplished. But, instead of continuing with his tirade, Snape's gaze fell to the floor and he sighed wearily. Rather than push his luck any further, Harry chose to wait for whatever was coming next.

"Come with me."

It was surely a trap. Snape was planning on leading him to a more secluded spot so that he could properly punish him, perhaps finishing the job he'd failed to do at the manor. But, if that was the case, the potions classroom would have fit the bill easily enough, given as they didn't have an audience. And no one in their right mind would pay the professor a visit out of their own volition. So, proving that Harry definitely wasn't in his right mind, he followed Snape's retreating form.

It turned out that the classroom was connected to a smaller space, a private office that Snape evidently used whenever he wasn't torturing Hogwarts' student populace. It bore the same aesthetic, namely grimy black walls and a pervasive state of darkness. A desk occupied most of the space, which Snape quickly sat behind, leaving Harry to remain standing. The lack of other chairs was presumably a design choice, with the Slytherin never encouraging visitors.

"What do you know of me?"

Harry shrugged. "Not a lot, to be honest. I know that you were at school at a similar time to my dad. From what I've gathered from Sirius and Remus, they don't exactly talk about you in a positive light."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"Neither does it shock me."

"Do you know that I was friends with your mother?"

Harry didn't know how to react. "...no, that's never come up before."

"Probably because your precious guardians wouldn't want that particular tale staining their legacy."

"If you're just going to use this time to insult the people I love, then I'll walk straight out that door."

Snape looked nonplussed. "By all means. That suits me perfectly well. It's not as if I want to be doing this. But if you leave, you won't get the explanations you so desperately crave."

Harry had to begrudgingly give him that. "You knew my mum, then?"

"Very well. As children, we were fierce friends. But, after a certain point, we drifted apart. Solely because she caught the eye of someone else."

"My dad…"

"I told her that he wasn't good enough for her, that she could do so much better. In the end, that proved to be a line that I massively crossed. I resented her for choosing James Potter over me. I resented him and all his friends for leading her to that choice. And I resented myself for forcing her into a decision in the first place. I should have been content with simply remaining as a part of her life. But I opted to believe that it was only because of your father that I lost that friendship."

Again, Harry didn't really know what to say. He'd never imagined that Snape would be so forthcoming, which meant he wasn't prepared for this onrush of information. Under normal circumstances, he might have been thrilled to learn more about what his parents were like when they were younger, but he got the sense that he wasn't going to like the picture that was being painted. Was this why, whenever the topic cropped up when talking to Sirius and Remus, they always proved strangely tight-lipped?

"I…I was there on the night your parents were killed," Snape admitted.

Harry had experienced waves of anger in the past and had come close to losing his cool more times than he could count. He doubted it had often been so visceral as he looked at the other man, trying to figure out just what he meant by that comment. No matter the training he'd been put through by Matthew, and regardless of the certain control he'd mastered over his powers, Harry could still feel his pure magic wanting to be set free, a tidal wave of energy that would have shattered the small room they were frequenting.

Snape evidently picked up on his growing ire. "I wasn't with the Dark Lord when it happened, you must understand. I simply arrived afterwards, once word got out about their fate. My fondness for Lily lingered, and so I felt it was only right that I saw for myself what had befallen her. I blamed myself, in truth. If I'd fought harder to preserve our friendship, such a situation would have been avoidable. I could have protected her."

"Against Voldemort?"

"There are other ways to fight against him than with magic."

"Draco said that you were a spy for him."

"You've been talking to Malfoy Junior?"

For what was surely the first time, Snape sounded impressed. Harry could feel his cheeks colouring, as if it were something to be embarrassed about. Their rivalry had grown to be common knowledge in the school, so maybe it was strange to be faced with the evidence that they were taking a step in the right direction. They weren't friends but even talking in a partially civil manner was more progress than they could have ever imagined was possible.

"Recent events have made me change my perspective when it comes to certain things. Which is one of the main reasons why I'm here now, going against my better judgement."

"Malfoy's right. It's true that I was a spy in Voldemort's ranks but, before his initial demise, I saw the error of my ways. I turned to Dumbledore for forgiveness and he was, perhaps, the only person who would have given it to me at the time."

"But Malfoy seemed to suggest that you were still a spy."

"I was more useful to Dumbledore as a double agent. Up until the point my allegiances could no longer be doubted."

"When you saved me."

"The Dark Lord will know that I was at the manor and that I fought under the banner of the Order. Returning to his side would be a suicide mission. Even then, I proposed that I take the risk in the name of the potential benefits it could, but Dumbledore argued against it. He didn't want to throw my life away for some reason."

"You lost the main advantage we had over Voldemort just because of me. You must realise why I'm so confused, then, that you made that choice."

"Can't you let me explain that in my own time? You're just as impatient as your father, Potter."

Harry took a step back. "Were you jealous of him?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"My dad…were you jealous of him? Because he ended up with my mum?"

"He didn't deserve that happiness."

"My dad was a good man!"

"Your dad was a brat and a bully, as were his merry band of friends, and it's about time you realised that. It's about time someone told you the truth."

"Even if he didn't deserve that happiness, as you say, he didn't exactly get to experience it for long, did he?"

"Momentary joy is still countless times better than never having any."

Harry was starting to get a more rounded picture of the man before him. He wasn't some villain or some monster. He wasn't even someone to be feared, nor revered. Snape was a bitter man who hadn't been able to move on from the distant past, and it had twisted his heart into something dark and angry. Out of spite towards the world, he'd refused to open himself up to the more pleasant things life had to offer, and the husk that had been left behind was now suffering the consequences.

"So…what? Have you truly been picking on me for six years just because I look like my dad? Is that it? Because if that's the case…"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you."

"Because I'm right and the truth hurts?"

"Because you're wrong and the truth has a canny knack of stabbing me in the heart. I don't dislike you because of your resemblance to your father. It's because of your eyes. They're so very much like your mother's and, therefore, you've been a constant reminder of my failings ever since you entered the Great Hall that September evening."

"...oh."

How exactly were you supposed to respond to such an admission? Snape didn't hate him, at least not technically. He hated what Harry represented and those feelings had been translated into snide comments and exaggerated punishments ever since. It didn't go far in making Harry feel any better about what had transpired between them, not remotely, and he wasn't going to forgive Snape for his behaviour anytime soon. But it was at least some comfort to know that it wasn't his fault.

"Are we finally done here?"

"No. You've avoided the actual question I asked you to start with. You haven't liked me for all this time, but you pushed that to one side when it truly mattered."

"A course of action I'm severely regretting right now."

"Have you…stopped hating me?"

"Absolutely not. Based on this conversation, you're going to be just as annoying as ever. But when I saw you there, I knew that I had a choice to make. I could have left you to the wolves and finally gotten my vengeance against your father, not to mention Black. Or I could sacrifice everything I'd worked towards in the name of Lily. It didn't please me just how easily the answer came. I wish I could have resisted the idea more strongly. But my life is already full of regrets when it comes to your mother. I didn't want to add another to the list, knowing I'd failed to protect her blood yet again."

"Well…I don't really know where we go from here."

"Don't expect any special treatment from me going forward."

Harry laughed. "Trust me, I'd never imagine that. We can just…go about as normal. This doesn't have to change anything. Yes, you saved me, but that was basically your job. You don't like me, I don't like you, the world is still spinning for at least another week or two."

"I…think I can get onboard with that plan."

"Good. And…thank you. Again. I mean it. I appreciate what you did for me. And, I suppose, what you did for my mum."

"Are you going to leave now?"

"I think that's probably for the best, yeah."

"Thank Merlin for small mercies."

It felt like a weight had been lifted from Harry's shoulders as he turned around, as if six years of burden had been somewhat taken away. He couldn't wait to tell his friends about what had happened, picturing their looks of sheer incredulity. Matthew would likely claim that he was lying, that he was making the whole thing up, and Hermione would argue that she'd always tried to paint the professor in as positive a light as possible.

Snape stopped him before he walked through the door. "The girl…"

Harry froze, looking at him once more. "What about her?"

"It's clear to see that she has your best interests at heart. Whilst it is truly none of my business, take it from someone who had a relationship like that and foolishly lost it. Don't let it slip from your grasp if you can help it."

"...I'll try my best."

Harry was going to leave, only to be stopped again. "And…forget the 50 house points."

"Thank you, sir."

"If only because I don't want to have to explain to Minerva why I handed them out."