Title: A Part of Me 8-14 (Professor!Snape/Student!Snape, NC-17)

[phantomtf]

See Chapter One for warnings.

Chapter Eight

Severus sat slumped in his seat, resigned to another class full of mindless Defense lessons, taught by rote directly from the textbook. Honestly, even he could do a better job! He lifted his head as the professor appeared at the front of the room. He frowned slightly. This man wasn’t Professor Kirby. He looked rather shabby, with a silly-looking mustache and ratty clothing. He wondered if the man was even poorer than he was. Such a thing was hard to imagine.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all gasped with joy and ran to hug the man. “Professor Lupin!” Hermione cried.

Severus became stock-still, his breath coming in harsh pants. No. It couldn’t be.

“Can’t believe they let that oaf back in!” Draco muttered in his ear. “I thought we’d seen the last of him.”

“You mean he’s taught here before?” He was feeling faint again.

“Yeah, it was awful!” Crabbe explained. “He was here our third year.”

Pansy shook her head. “It’s the usual… he babies and praises the Gryffindors and barely says a word to the Slytherins. He even pulled a nasty trick when he was teaching - Longbottom is afraid of Professor Snape, so Lupin had him picture a boggart of Snape in his gran’s dress. I thought that was really low for a professor and showed exactly how little he cares for our House. It’s no wonder Professor Snape hates him. You must loathe him too.”

Lupin managed to shoo the jubilant students back to their desks. “Hello again to you all. Professor Kirby has fallen ill, so I will be covering his classes for the next few days. I unfortunately cannot return as a full-time Professor, but the Ministry has very generously allowed me to substitute on certain pre-approved days.”

Draco looked mutinous. “Why can’t Professor Snape substitute? After all, he did when *you* were indisposed.”

Lupin looked unconcerned at the veiled insult. “Professor Snape has many responsibilities, and it would be unfair to burden him further.”

“We’re glad you’re here, Professor,” Harry said pointedly, glaring at Draco.

Lupin smiled, looking around the room. His eyes stopped on the newest student and widened in surprise. “Harry wrote to me about the Potions accident. This must be an unusual experience for you, Mister Snape.” Snape glowered at him.

“I’ve been reading over Professor Kirby’s lesson plan and I see that you are studying advanced offensive and defensive spells. Before we delve in, are there any questions?”

Severus raised his hand with a tiny smirk. “What is the best way to kill a werewolf?”

Lupin looked startled, but he quickly recovered his wits and laughed. “I’m afraid that subject was studied back in the Third-Year courses, but it never hurts to have a refresher. This class in particular has had a rather fragmentary teaching experience in Defense. Mythology holds that werewolves should be killed with silver bullets. This is certainly a viable option, and those afflicted with lycanthropy do have a mild allergy to silver. However, werewolves can also be harmed by a variety of spells and potions, just like normal wolves. An excellent question, if a bit simplistic.” Severus seethed. “I must confess I’m quite surprised - you became quite the werewolf expert, if memory serves, and I would be willing to wager that you already knew the answer.” Lupin walked past his desk, forcing Snape to turn to keep him in his field of vision. He refused to take his eyes off such a dangerous creature for a moment. “There’s no need for pretense, Mister Snape. The students are quite aware that I am a werewolf.”

The Slytherin student’s face flushed bright red. He set his jaw and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I understand that werewolves can be unsettling,” Lupin explained in what was probably meant to be a soothing manner. “But the Wolfsbane potion has gone a long way to improving the lives of lycanthropes and their loved ones. It allows a transformed werewolf to maintain its human mind.”

“Yeah,” Draco hissed. “When they remember to take it!”

“The Wolfsbane potion?” Severus asked scornfully. “There is no such thing. I am certain that if it existed it would be well-publicized.”

“I would not expect you to have heard of it; it is a fairly recent invention. If you are truly interested in the details, I’m certain Professor Snape will enlighten you. He is one of the few brewers in Europe who is capable of making it, and he has made several substantial improvements. He may even be pleased to have your assistance.”

Severus scowled deeply. He did not take insults lightly. In the space of a few short moments, Lupin had insulted him twofold by 1) mentioning a potion of which he had no knowledge, and 2) relegating him to a mere assistant in the brewing process. He refused to breathe another word during the entire class. If Lupin asked him a question, even a very basic one, he would say flatly, “I don’t know.” He half-expected the professor to take points, but Lupin just looked bemused and moved on to the next student (usually Granger) who had raised a hand. When the class period ended, he exited with his wand gripped in his hand, keeping the werewolf in the corner of his eye. He knew how dangerous it was. It would not do to display fear.

Chapter Nine

Severus couldn’t believe how fast time had flown - it was now mid-April and the end of term was close enough to start planning for. He would need to ask the professor where he would be staying over the summer hols.

Professor Kirby stared out at the class impassively. “For your final project, you will write a paper discussing and deconstructing offensive or defensive spells; what makes a good spell and what does not, and how to use the spell to maximum effect. Needless to say, any Unforgivable or Restricted Spell is off-limits for this assignment. This project will be done in pairs, which I will assign. Since some of the other professors have informed me of the importance of inter-house cooperation, you will be working with a classmate from another House. Please keep in mind that this project will comprise fully fifty percent of your grade. The paper should be between ten and twenty lengths of parchment.” He pointedly ignored the chorus of groans. “You will have the rest of the class period to meet and discuss your project ideas. The pairings are as follows: Mister Potter and Mister Nott. Mister Weasley and Mister Malfoy.” Identical choking sounds could be heard. “Mister Longbottom and Miss Bulstrode.” Millicent waved a fist menacingly. “Mister Snape and Miss Granger.” Everyone looked flummoxed. What sense did it make to pair up the smartest students in the class? The Slytherins looked sorry for Snape; everyone else looked sorry for Granger. “Miss Abbott and Miss Parkinson. Mister Thomas and Mister Zabini.” Snape tuned out the droning professor, his mind already hard at work.

Once the pairings had been assigned, the students reluctantly gravitated into pairs. The hostility in the room was palpable. Weasley and Malfoy already looked ready to hex each other. Potter and Nott looked less violent, but each carefully avoided touching the other. Inter-house cooperation might have gone a bit better if the pairings were more carefully selected. It just reinforced Snape’s impression that Professor Kirby was a narrow-minded moron. Anyone with eyes could tell that Draco and any Gryffindor, and Potter and any Slytherin, would be tempting fate.

He trudged over to Granger’s desk, who was eyeing Potter and Weasley nervously. “Hi,” she said a bit tremulously. “I suppose we’ll be working together.” Snape shrugged and refused to even grant that obvious statement a response. “I’ve got a few ideas of what we can do. I’d rather steer clear of the Shield Charm; it’s probably what everyone else will be doing.”

“I like the Reverto Impetus charm,” Snape commented, “but Professor Kirby has already proven his disklike for that spell.”

“There’s the Banishing Charm. It can be used on dangerous objects, or on people in a pinch. The Reductor Curse can also be used against objects.”

“What about binding spells, such as Incarcerous? Once your opponent is disabled, he can’t effectively fight back.”

“The body-binding spell has a similar effect,” Hermione pointed out. “And the Blasting Curse is very effective during duels.”

Snape smirked and glanced at her sideways. “There’s always the Entrail-Expelling Curse.”

She stared at him, trying to determine if he was serious. “It’s Restricted.”

“Darn.” Okay, he was joking. He had such deadpan humor that it was hard to tell.

“The Stunning Spell?”

“Too obvious, as is the Disarming Spell,” Snape sighed. “I want to do something different.”

After much wrangling and debating, they narrowed it down to two choices. Hermione was in favor of the Reductor Curse, while Snape steadfastly insisted on Incarcerous. They seemed deadlocked.

Suddenly Snape got a dreamy, faraway look on his face. Hermione stopped arguing abruptly. Was that how *she* looked when she got a big idea? “I've got it!” he exclaimed, suddenly looking animated. “I’ve got a smashing idea. Why don’t we invent our own spell?”

Hermione looked stunned. “Can we do that?”

“Sure, why not? I do it all the time.”

The Gryffindor looked impressed despite herself. “This way we’d have no problem dissecting the curse - we can describe the individual components we used to create it. And we can describe why it’s more beneficial than existing spells.”

“We have to get to the library. We’ve got loads of work to do.”

Hermione took on the role of teacher’s pet and went to beg Kirby for permission to go to the library early. Snape sneered slightly. He saw no reason to kiss up to that fool. He watched the girl gesturing dramatically. Hard to believe that someone else could be as much of a swot as him. Together they’d make the most spectacular presentation ever… if their competitive egos didn’t end up locking horns.

They spent the next two weeks holed up in the library, hogging as many books on defensive spells that they could find, much to the disgust of their classmates. Fortunately most of the others had chosen plebian books, so there was not much demand for their advanced texts. Professor Snape had grudgingly granted him a pass for the Restricted Section, as long as the books met with Madame Pince’s ruthless inspection. The professor had also reluctantly donated a few of his prized texts after a promise that no one save him or Hermione would handle them.

Madame Pince’s temper was badly frayed due to Kirby’s ill-conceived pairings - the students did little more than bicker and try to hex each other - so they chose the table in the furthest corner. They observed their classmates wandering in and out. Malfoy and Weasley had finally resorted to working alone and then putting their research together at a later date. Snape could guess which one would end up doing the lion’s share of the work. Weasley seemed to be the slacker type, but Malfoy was probably more used to having others do the work for him. It was likely that Granger would end up helping Weasley.

“I’m so glad I’ve been paired with you!” Hermione gushed one day. “No one else takes the time to thoroughly explore assignments, and most of the time I get stuck doing all the work.” He nodded curtly; he had experienced the same thing. Pity she was such a goody-goody Gryffindor.

A commotion broke out at a far table. Neville sitting in his seat, glaring and trying not to cringe as Millicent Bulstrode stood over him waving her fist. “Bulstrode!” Snape called. “If you kill him, you’ll have to do all the work yourself.” The Slytherin girl grumbled crossly to herself but sat down without further incident.

Granger kept trying to make small talk, which annoyed Snape to no end. It’s not as if they were friends or anything. At one point, she mentioned that Professor Snape did not like her. She was almost in tears. Severus scowled at her. “It’s not like I have sympathy for you or anything, but I think I may be able to explain why he treats you the way he does.” He glanced at her, then quickly away. “You’re not to breathe a word of this to anybody. When I first started at Hogwarts, I acted a lot like you did. I knew the answers to everything, had read all the textbooks, and wasn’t afraid to show it. I always raised my hand and was proud to flaunt my knowledge. But the students thought that I was a swotty show-off who was trying to make them look bad. I won a lot of house-points, but the misery that the other students caused just wasn’t worth it. Even some of the professors got a bit sick of me dominating the classes. Finally I decided that I would just keep to myself and only answer when called upon. Things didn’t improve much, but it was actually a relief for me to not have to be the center of attention all the time.”

“So he wants me to be quiet unless he specifically addresses me?” Hermione asks.

“Yes; even if no one else knows the answer, look at him and wait for him to call upon you. He doesn’t care much for Gryffindors, but maybe this is a back-handed way of trying to help you.”

Chapter Ten

Severus cursed as he frantically searched the area around his bed. His mother had given him a little charm in the shape of a silver cauldron to celebrate his acceptance into Hogwarts. It was a bit tarnished, but it was still one of his prized possessions. He had taken it out for luck while working on the Defense project with Hermione, and now he couldn’t find it. He suspected it may have fallen out of his pocket, but even a Summoning Charm didn’t help.

He frowned as an idea occurred to him. He waved his wand, and a fiery glow emanated from across the room. Draco’s trunk. No doubt warded against Summoning Charms and the like.

Speak of the devil, he thought as the Malfoy heir sauntered into the room. Severus addressed him with a dangerously soft tone of voice. “You have something of mine.”

Draco looked genuinely confused. “Why would I have something of yours?”

“You tell me.” He gestured to the trunk, which still emitted an incriminating glow. “Open it up.”

Draco hesitated and found a wand leveled at his chest. He knelt and clumsily undid the latches. As soon as the trunk lid had opened a crack, Severus commanded “Accio” and sure enough, the charm sailed into his outstretched hand. He stuffed it into his pocket and returned his attentions to the Slytherin who was trying to edge away from his wand.

“Care to tell me how my charm came to be in your trunk?”

“It… it was lying on the floor in the Common Room. I didn’t know whose it was, and-”

“And you thought you could keep it?”

“No! I… I thought I could ask who it belonged to later.”

“Tut tut, Malfoy. I thought you could lie better than that. All that money and you can’t resist taking things that aren’t yours.”

Draco looked rebellious. “At least I’m not dirt poor like the Weasels!”

Snape’s face darkened and his grip on his wand tightened. Sparks flew from his wand, and Draco suddenly looked afraid. “Poor. You think it’s funny to be poor?! Tell me, Draco, have you ever worn shoes that didn’t fit? Have your clothes ever torn at the seams because they’d had one too many lengthening charms? Have you ever had to choose between food and schoolbooks? You’ve probably never gone hungry a single day in your life!

“So what do you do? You steal from those who have less than you, simply because you feel entitled and it gives you a thrill! You’re so like Lucius - he could never go into a shop without swiping something. Bloody klepto, he was. You better believe I cured him of that, but good. Now his robes catch fire if he tries to rip off anything.”

Draco made a gurgling sound. Severus barely heard it in his mounting rage. “You think your money and power makes you better than anyone else? Well, I’ve got news for you. One day you may have neither, and you’ll never survive in the real world. Money isn’t doing your father very good right now, is it?”

Draco clutched at his throat in desperation, his face turning blue. Snape suddenly realized his anger had manifested itself in a nonverbal spell and released the boy from its clutches. Malfoy collapsed, gasping and rubbing his sore throat. With a final look of anger and disgust, Severus spun on his heel and marched away.

(A/N: This last bit was inspired by a scene in the Chamber of Secrets movie, where Draco finds a small present in the Common Room and sticks it in his pocket.)

A few days later, Draco received a letter. “It’s from Father!” he announced excitedly to Crabbe and Goyle. “Piss off so I can read in peace.” They were used to such attitudes from their leader and left with a shrug.

Dear Draco,

I was very pleased to receive your letter. Azkaban has few amenities, and there is not much with which to occupy myself. I was amazed to hear the outcome of the Potions incident that you mentioned. I do wish I could see young Severus again; I have many fond memories of our school days, though I had graduated by the time he reached the age that your friend is now. I was only able to see him during vacations and holidays, but keeping in touch paid off.

Severus will no doubt seem odd to you at times. He has other priorities that the common student; he will often forsake meals and hygiene when working on a new spell or potion. He also has a very dry sense of humor and delights in confusing people. It is often difficult to tell when he is joking. He will also find something funny that you and I do not. If you recall the horror magivid The Possessed, there is a scene where the hapless witch has her head spin around. Severus thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. He regards that movie more as a comedy than anything else.

Beware; he likes to make outrageous claims and lies on occasion just to see if anyone will believe him. I remember that he once convinced all the Gryffindors in his year that a vampire lived in the Forbidden Forest and lived for capturing fresh “Gryffie” meat. As long as you use some common sense, you should not fall for his tricks. These are usually directed against the slow-witted or anyone that he dislikes in general.

Severus is sometimes known as the Prince of Lies (his mother’s maiden name is Prince, so that you get the joke), but he can also be brutally honest. While his opinions and statements can frequently sound rude or offensive, I have learned to treasure this quality. Few people will tell me when I am being an arse, but Severus is quite eager to alert me. He is direct and does not concern himself very often with the niceties of society. I have worked to improve this, so that the Professor Snape that you know has more social skills, but I have also tried to be careful and preserve that endearing quality of forthrightness.

You may be tempted to ask Severus to provide his notes or answers to homework. Refrain; he will certainly give you the wrong answers. If you truly need help, do show that you are making an effort, and he will provide genuine assistance.

Severus is a genius, one in a million, and any eccentricities should either be indulged or ignored. Like many teenagers, he can be gloomy or downright cross. He may snap or yell at you for no reason. I am glad that you told me about your recent confrontation with him. He does not take kindly to having anyone handle or take his property. He has placed a Thief’s Curse on his belongings, and woe to anyone who disturbs them. I confess with some shame that his stories about me are accurate. Do take Mister Snape’s threats very seriously, or burned robes may be the very least of your concern. And for the love of Merlin, please do not mention anything else about poverty in front of him. It’s sure to earn you a haranguing. Do not share this information with anyone, but Severus grew up quite poor - even worse off than the Weasleys. It is to his credit that he has done so well for himself since then.

I confess that I do miss both versions of Severus. Hopefully events will turn out in my favor, and I will be able to see them soon.

Yours,
Father

Draco frowned at the letter. What did Father mean about events turning out in his favor? Bribes hadn’t worked with the Wizengamot, and Father had already had his trial and sentencing. Unless he meant that the Death Eaters had something planned. It would be grand if they broke out! But the Dark Lord was angry at the debacle in the Department of Mysteries. Since the Dementors were no longer at Azkaban, perhaps it wasn’t such a bad place to be, considering.

Chapter Eleven

Draco entered the Slytherin Common Room and threw himself on the couch, sighing dramatically. “Stupid Quidditch refs!” he griped. “They give us penalties for playing rough, but they don’t notice when the Gryffindor Beater fires a Bludger straight at my head!”

“They’re all prats, Draco. Don’t waste your time on them,” Pansy said soothingly, running her hands through his hair.

“I’ve let too many things go,” Draco protested. “I don’t see why we have to take crap from Gryffindors all the time. They say that we’re Dark wizards in training. Well, you know what? They’re right! They ostracize us from day one and won’t let us show our strengths, so who can blame us if we find a Dark wizard who will?”

Severus put down his book. Draco thought that the teen was about to gripe about the noise level, but he turned to Draco and said, “The Gryffindors like to think they’re better than everyone else. They’re brave and noble; many Hogwarts Headmasters have come from that house, and blah blah blah. No one wants to admit how much preferential treatment they get. Many Gryffindors are actually bullies or troublemakers, and the administration turns a blind eye.”

“Exactly!” Draco exclaimed, all former enmity over the ‘stealing incident’ gone. “Potter is the perfect example. Just because he’s got a bitty cut on his head, everyone treats him like he’s Merlin reincarnated. McGonagall bought him a broom his first year. She let him play Quidditch. I caught them sneaking around after curfew, and McGonagall gave *me* detention for it! Can you believe?!”

“That’s not all!” Nott said indignantly. “Remember the Leaving Feast at the end of our first year? We won the House Cup fair and square, and at the very last second, that old bat Dumbledore just assigns some random points and gives it away to Gryffindor! The Great Hall had been decorated with Slytherin banners, and he just changed them! How likely are we to follow Dumbledore after a stunt like that?”

“I like Snape,” Goyle said quietly. Everyone stared at him in astonishment. Although his bulk was impressive, he was so quiet that sometimes they forgot he was there. “He doesn’t do that to us.”

“And he doesn’t let anyone else either,” Pansy declared. “Everyone gripes and complains that he’s not fair. Well, he just evens the playing field for us. He’s being obviously preferential to us to make up for the prejudices against us.”

“Stupid fools don’t realize it’s a self-fulfilling prophesy.” No one wanted to argue with Snape.

“I think we should put those smug Gryffies in their place,” Draco declared.

Snape stared straight ahead with a glassy-eyed look. “Is he all right?” Zabini asked.

Draco thought back to his father’s letter. “Maybe he’s got an idea. Is that right, Severus?”

Snape waved his hand vaguely in a shooing motion as he grabbed parchment and quill, jotting down a complicated formula. The others shrugged as he leapt to his feet and dashed off to the common room.

He returned almost two hours later and handed Draco the parchment. “Green iridescent dye?” Draco asked curiously.

A sardonic smile touched the thin lips. “It’s perfect for the Gryffindors. Won’t wash out and can’t be removed with spells. It will only affect body hair, so we don’t have to worry about the professors whining about ruined textbooks and such.”

“You’re thinking we should dump this on them?”

“Of course. But it’s experimental; it may take me a few tries to get it right.”

Zabini came down the stairs. “Something sounds funny up there.”

A look of horror crossed Snape’s face. “Oh, bugger.” He fled up the stairs. A few minutes latter a loud *bang* caused the floor to shake. The sixth-year boys fled up the stairs to see Severus staring mournfully at the charred remains of his potion. “Too much gillyweed juice,” he said sadly.

“Professor Snape is coming!” someone cried. Severus quickly kicked his smoking cauldron under the bed as Nott performed an air-freshening charm.

“There seems to have been an explosion in this room,” he said in his smooth, threatening tones. “I do not like it when there are explosions in my House. Do explain.” He looked pointedly at Severus.

Draco spoke up. “Our apologies, sir. I was trying to teach Crabbe the Reducto spell and it didn’t quite go as planned.” Crabbe opened his mouth to protest, and Draco stepped squarely on his foot.

“Spells are forbidden in the dorms; however, I can appreciate how Mister Crabbe may need some extra assistance. I do hope that no illicit potion-making is being conducted. That is what the lab is for. Brewing in the dorms is restricted and will be punished.” His gaze did not waver from young Severus, who met his eyes unflinchingly. Draco recalled that the professor was a strong Legilimens, but apparently Severus was a good Occlumens as well. “Show me your cauldron.”

Severus’ eyes widened slightly but his face did not change expression. He knelt and withdrew a cauldron from his trunk. “The other one, Mister Snape,” the man said in clipped tones. The younger Snape reached slowly under the bed and withdrew the other cauldron. The assembled Slytherins cringed, but the cauldron emerged sparkling clean. It was rather battered, but that was to be expected from a frequently-used cauldron.

Professor Snape turned the cauldron around in his hands thoughtfully, then returned it to its owner. “Do keep out of trouble. I will not be pleased if I am summoned again tonight.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you got away with it!” Pansy exclaimed after the professor was safely out of earshot. Severus frowned slightly. He wasn’t pleased that she had followed them into the boys’ dorm.

“I *didn’t* get away with it completely. He is quite certain that I was brewing potions. He just can’t prove it.”

“How did you get your cauldron clean?”

“Non-verbal Vanishing spell on the contents.”

Pansy looked envious. “I still have trouble with non-verbal spells. Kirby doesn’t give us enough time to practice.” From the expression on everyone’s faces, they agreed.

Snape shrugged. “I suppose I could teach you all, if you want. We just have to pick the spells carefully; otherwise Professor Snape will be crosser than an insulted hippogriff.”

Bulstrode peeped around the corner, clearly feeling uncomfortable about being in the boys’ dorm. “There you are, Pansy!” she exclaimed.

“Come join us, Millie!” she invited. “Severus is going to teach us non-verbal spells. It’ll be loads better than that ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ joke.”

There were a few unfortunate incidents - Draco mourned the passing of his prized down pillow as it burst into flames - but they seemed to be making a bit of progress, even with the moron twins of Crabbe and Goyle.

Exhausted, they slumped down onto their beds. Pansy sat next to Draco on his bed, and Millie hoped up on Snape’s. Snape didn’t seem to notice or care.

“What Amimagus form would you like to have?” Bulstrode asked abruptly.

“What?” Severus looked flummoxed by the non-sequitur.

“It’s a game we sometimes play in the girls’ dorm. We ask each other what Animagus or Patronus form we think we could have.”

“That’s just the silly sort of game a girl would play,” Crabbe said derisively.

Pansy stuck out her tongue at him. “Then don’t play.”

Severus leaned back against his pillow and stretched out his long legs, kicking his battered shoes to the floor. Millicent also kicked off her shoes but stayed in a seated position. “I’d like to be a snake. Snakes are really neat. They like sunning themselves on big rocks, and they smell with their tongues. Plus I could bite anyone who annoyed me. Lucius sometimes calls me Snake. Thinks he’s made a clever joke on my name.”

“It suits you,” Bulstrode said seriously. “I’d like to be a unicorn. Something graceful and beautiful.”

“You’d probably be a hippo!” Crabbe exclaimed, and Goyle let out a bray of laughter. Without saying a word, Snape twitched his wand and sent a shoe flying at Crabbe’s head. Millie shot him a grateful look. Neither of them would ever be considered beautiful, and it created an odd sort of understanding between them.

“What about you then, Crabbe?” Bulstrode said challengingly.

He shrugged. “A bear, I suppose.”

“I’d like to be an elephant,” Goyle said in his slow, plodding voice. “They’re big and strong.” He paused. “And smart.” No one could find the heart to tease him.

“What about you, Draco?” Pansy cooed. Severus mimed sticking a finger down his throat, and Millicent laughed.

“He’d be a ferret,” Snape declared. The room roared with laughter, and Severus looked confused until someone finally explained. Then Snape, to their surprise, joined in the merriment. “The Malfoys have albino peacocks on their estate. I always thought it was the perfect Animagus form for Lucius.” Draco looked cross. “I call him a strutting peacock all the time, Draco, and he acts like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. He says he humors me since I’m his best friend, and he’d hex anyone else who dared try to insult him.”

Nott declared he wanted to be a hippogriff. Draco made a disparaging remark about stupid chickens. “You’re just mad because that hippogriff thrashed you.”

“Did you insult it?” Snape asked curiously. “Hippogriffs generally don’t attack otherwise.”

“Just because I called it a great ugly brute….”

“If you’re stupid enough to insult a hippogriff,” Severus sneered, “then you got exactly what was coming to you.”

Draco looked offended, but then remembered his father’s letter. Severus is odd. Severus is a genius. Severus must be dealt with leniently. He wondered how his father ever put up with him.

Despite the explosive setback, Snape had a working dye in short order. After casting some swift Disillusionment charms, a select few Slytherins crept outside the Gryffindor portrait and waited. They knew full well that there was a House meeting inside. Once the meeting ended, they waited for McGonagall to get a safe distance away. As students began flooding out, they dumped the potions. Screams of shock and outrage ensued. “Professor McGonagall!” outraged voices called.

Laughing, the Slytherins ran back to their dormitory. Severus threw himself down on his seat in the Common Room, grabbed the parchment and quill that he had deliberately left out, and began hastily writing.

Scant minutes later, the portrait opened to admit both Professors Snape and McGonagall. Snape looked impassive, while McGonagall looked furious. “Spells are useless against it, Severus! The harder we try, the brighter the dye becomes! I am certain he’s behind it!”

Professor Snape waved a hand and she followed him into the Common Room. The Slytherins looked mutinous. They truly resented having the Gryffindor Head of House invade their territory. “Mister Snape, where have you been for the last fifteen minutes?” Professor Snape asked.

Severus gave him a politely confused look. “I’ve been right here, sir, working on my Herbology assignment.”

“Mister Snape, do not think for a moment that-” Professor McGonagall began in a huff.

Professor Snape picked up the parchment his younger self had been working on and ran his thumb through the ink on the top page. The words smeared, and Severus cried out in outrage. “The ink is fresh,” the professor remarked, restoring the parchment with a tap of his wand. He turned to the assembled students. “Can you confirm Mister Snape’s whereabouts?” They all nodded vigorously.

Professor Snape turned back to Professor McGonagall, who was white-lipped in anger. “Mister Snape has a corroborated alibi. It does appear as if he has been working here all this time.”

McGonagall sniffed. “I still believe he is the real culprit.” She shot an accusatory glance at the Slytherins. “What about my Gryffindors? Can’t you do anything?”

“Unfortunately not. As you noticed, any attempt to intervene worsens the situation. The dye appears to be short-term and should fade in just a few days.” Severus bit his lip to keep from smiling. The professor knew very well that a simple potion existed to easily remove the dye. As Professor Snape guided the woman out of the snake den, he turned to glance at the wayward student. He stared at the young Slytherin, and Severus stared back. A tiny smirk curled the professor’s lips as he exited the Slytherin dorm.

“No way!” Pansy laughed as soon as the coast was clear. “We just totally got away with it.”

“Good thinking with the wet ink,” Draco remarked. “Guess you used another non-verbal spell.”

Severus smirked and told them about the dye-removing potion that Professor Snape neglected to mention. They all shared a good laugh at their Head of House’s collusion, and at the shame and embarrassment that the Gryffindors would suffer for the next few days.

Chapter Twelve

The next day, the Gryffindors were greeted with jeers and catcalls from the Slytherin table as they slunk in to Potions. Potter practically had steam coming out of his ears, and Granger and Weasley had to wrestle him into his seat. He and Malfoy exchanged barbs until Professor Snape swept through the door. Everyone fell silent - not even the Slytherins dared speak.

Halfway through the class, Professor Snape was distracted by a failed potion that was emitting potentially toxic fumes. While his back was turned, Draco and Harry took the opportunity to insult each other with renewed vigor. Severus scowled at Potter darkly but did not get involved - he was almost finished with his latest experiment.

“You’re a prat too, Snape,” Potter hissed. “Don’t think for a moment we don’t know who was behind this!” He gestured to his untidy mop of glowing green hair.

“In case it escaped your notice, Potter, you’re part of the reason I’m here. I would not have come into being if it wasn’t for your incessant carping with Draco. Gryffindors are always dishing it out but can never take it.”

Harry raised his wand; Hermione grabbed his arm and managed to cancel out whatever spell he’d been casting with one of her own, but enough of a breeze was generated to put out the flame under his cauldron and instantly ruin his delicate potion.

“Go wash your pants, Snivelly,” Harry snarled.

“Harry!” Hermione gasped. “That’s awful!”

Severus sat stock still as a red haze filled his vision. He gripped the desk until his knuckles turned white. Draco looked at him curiously. No one had seemed to really understand Harry’s comment - and just *how* had he learned about the pants incident?! - but it was plainly something embarrassing, and a few of his classmates were tittering.

Just like Potter. Just like James. He had known that they were alike, and now here was the proof. Both Potters had no regard for anything other than themselves. The stuck-up brat had no idea of the time and effort that he had just ruined, but if he had, it would probably make him all the happier. Well, it was only right that he returned the favor.

He reached into his Potions kit and withdrew a small bit of Erumpent horn. When the Gryffies’ attention was diverted, he levitated the horn into the potion, which promptly exploded. He allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction. Tit for tat, Potter.

Potter and Weasley spluttered angrily while Granger berated them. Professor Snape sidled over with a nasty smile. “Problems again?” he asked, dipping in a ladle. His smile faded as the bit of horn bobbed to the surface. He swiveled to look at the Slytherin table, his face a mask of still fury.

“Mister Snape,” he snapped. “I have granted more liberties for you than any student in this school. I believed that you were mature enough to handle it. A pity to see that I judged you incorrectly. Sabotaging potions is an unforgivable offense. Erumpent horn is explosive and highly dangerous, and by using it irresponsibly you have put this entire class at risk. As punishment, you will clean the bedpans in the Hospital Wing tonight without magic. I will also strike twenty points from Slytherin House.”

All color drained from Severus’ face. “But sir!” Draco protested. “It’s Potter’s fault! He-”

“Mister Potter did not place the horn in his own potion, Mister Malfoy. I am quite aware of who possesses such an ingredient and how it came to be in this cauldron.” He glared at the entire class. “The next mishap that occurs will result in detention for the entire class. Now get back to work!”

Severus spent the rest of the time blindly staring at the wall. He didn’t even bother to clean the mess in his cauldron. Draco looked concerned and tried to engage him in conversation a few times, but the young Slytherin ignored everything around him. Draco finally cleaned his cauldron for him and packed up his supplies. When class ended, Draco shot him one last worried look. “I’ll take your things up to the dorm for you,” he murmured as he left.

When the classroom had emptied, Severus turned to go. The professor seemed about to speak, but the student walked on by as if he was invisible. ‘What a fool I was!’ he thought. ‘To believe that anything could really change. Professor Snape’s just like all the rest. He lets Potter get away with murder right in his own classroom! I thought that finally someone was on my side. Guess I was wrong.’

In the distance he could hear voices, but in his distracted state he barely noticed. “Darn it, I can’t find my quill. Maybe I left it back in the classroom.”

“I’ll come with you, Harry. I don’t want you braving that room alone.”

“I’ve got to get to the library. See you guys later.”

He rounded a corner and ran smack into Potter and Weasley. “Don’t have your friends to back you up this time?” Harry snarled as he brandished his wand.

Snape began to laugh; a hollow, mirthless sound. The two Gryffies looked at him blankly. Oh, wasn’t this just *perfect*? The slimeballs show their true colors and gang up on him. Just like always. “Looks like I can’t say the same for you,” he finally replied, looking at Ron pointedly. “It’s always the Gryffindors who need a crowd to beat up on a Slytherin.”

“You’ve got some nerve exploding my potion!” Harry growled. “You’ve given me nothing but problems since the first day I arrived at school! Now there are two of you to make my life hell!”

Severus inched his hand into his pocket, grasping the handle of his wand. “So you’re going to hold me responsible for actions that I haven’t even done. What a surprise. In case you haven’t noticed, I got a detention for that potion, while you didn’t get so much as a single point taken away for what you did.”

“What *he* did?!” Ron yelled.

“Yeah, what he did. Ruined my potion and called me filthy names. Potty whines about what Professor Snape does, but today he let him get off scott-free! Seems I should be the one complaining.”

Harry grabbed Snape by the lapels. Snape took the opportunity to whip out his wand, but it was promptly snatched out of his grasp. “Got it, mate!” Finnigan announced. Great, another pack of Gryffies had arrived. “Trying to hex Harry, are you? Can’t let him get away with that!”

Snape lunged and tried to push past the growing crowd, but a flash from Seamus’ wand knocked him flat on his back. Ah yes, now the cheers and catcalls were beginning. Just like always.

“Stop it! Leave him alone!” a voice yelled.

The jeering and shuffling around abruptly stopped. Neville Longbottom stood at the fringes of the crowd, hands on hips and a determined look on his face.

“Aw, Neville, come on! Snape’s been nothing but rotten to you. Don’t you want to get a little of your own back?”

Neville snatched Snape’s wand from Seamus, who looked taken aback. “Professor Snape, maybe. But Severus has been all right. In fact, he’s saved me from Slytherin bullies twice now. Right now, Harry, you’re not looking much better than Crabbe and Goyle.”

Finnigan frowned. “He didn’t attack you first, Harry?”

Harry winced and clapped a hand to his forehead. “I just… I just feel so *angry*!”

“Maybe your anger isn’t directed toward him,” Neville said quietly. “Look, Harry, I like you but you’d better get ahold of yourself. You can’t just go attacking people because you feel like it. That’s what You-Know-Who does.”

Harry stared at Snape. For once, he didn’t see the sneering face and sweeping robes of the professor. He saw a scrawny, miserable boy who was used to being picked on with no recourse. Had he *really* called him Snivellus and made fun of his underpants? He had felt so ashamed of his father, and now he was using that very event against Snape! “You’re right, Neville,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to be like Voldemort,” he ignored the shocked gasps, “or my father, or anyone else that I don’t respect. Give him back his wand and let him go.”

Seeing that the show was over, the crowd dispersed as quickly as it formed. Ron looked rather disappointed that Snape wasn’t going to ‘get his’, but he was also watching Harry warily, as if Harry might suddenly take it into his head to attack him as well.

Hermione came running up. “Lavender told me something was up with Harry! What’s going on?”

“Harry almost attacked Snape!” Neville exclaimed, still looking outraged.

“Oh, Harry, no!” Hermione looked so disappointed. Harry’s heart sank.

“I like Severus,” a dreamy voice announced. No one had realized that Luna had been part of the crowd that had formed. “He feeds the Thestrals with me sometimes. He doesn’t believe in Nargles or Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks, but he doesn’t make fun of me either.”

Seeing his opportunity, Snape turned to go. “Wait,” Harry ordered, and Snape froze, almost expecting a spell to hit him in the back. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry, alright? I don’t like you and I’m sure you don’t like me, but what I did was out of line. And thanks, Neville, for bringing me back to my senses.”

The sappiness was gagging him. Seeing his opportunity, he slunk off into the shadows.

Chapter Thirteen

Severus spent the next few days like an automaton, attending classes and doing his homework but precious little else. He reluctantly worked on the Defense project with Hermione, who constantly apologized for Harry’s actions until he was ready to hex her, but all his previous enthusiasm had disappeared. It was a relief to complete their project and turn it in. They had had to use a subtle shrinking charm on the text to get it to fit into the recommended length. He performed no experiments, and he scarcely read anymore. He spent a lot of time wandering around the castle and its grounds like a phantom.

The change was most evident in Potions class. Rather than taking on independent study projects, he simply brewed the same potions as the rest of the class. He did it flawlessly and much faster than anyone else, but he stuck to the recipe. Once he was done, he either stuck his nose in a book or stared listlessly at the wall. He stopped dropping by the Potions classroom after hours to analyze the potion mishap that had brought about his existence. He no longer visited Professor Snape in the evening to grade papers or discuss forbidden lore or browse through dusty tomes.

The professor noticed a change in Draco as well. Severus and young Mister Malfoy seemed to have an odd relationship that alternated between familiarity (almost friendship) and antagonization, very much like the elder Severus and Lucius Malfoy. But now Draco hovered over his dorm mate like an anxious mother hen, and from time to time threw the professor confused glances that sometimes bordered on accusation.

As Severus was trudging out from another uneventful Potions class, the professor stopped him. “Mister Snape, a word.”

The boy turned, and Professor Snape was taken aback by the emptiness of his eyes. “Enough of this moping around. Surely your detention wasn’t so odious as to warrant this melodrama. If you are looking for sympathy from me, you will not find it. However, I have ordered a new Potions text which may be of interest.”

Severus clenched his jaw. “No, thank you. I am no longer interested in your texts, nor do I require your sympathy. I will survive on my own, as I always have.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means. You really had me going there for awhile, feeding me lines about Slytherins sticking together and how you’ve united the House. The others are all so bloody proud of you and how you give Slytherins preferential treatment to offset all the crap that we face from other Houses. But you’re just like all the rest, turning a blind eye when the teasing and bullying starts. You punish me for defending myself.”

“Sabotaging a potion with dangerous ingredients is not defending yourself.”

“To me it is, and if you really remembered who I am and what it’s like to be my age, you’d know that. Draco complains about how everyone coddles Potter and brags about how you aren’t soft on him, but you proved the exact opposite.”

“Me?” the professor snorted softly. “Soft on Potter? You must be joking!”

“Try me,” the student said softly, gesturing to the professor’s wand.

Slowly, Professor Snape raised his wand. “Legilimens!”

Severus pushed the relevant thoughts to the forefront of his mind. The images came through to the professor in brief flashes. Once he had viewed the entire exchange in the classroom, and the Gryffindors ganging up afterward, the professor broke the connection, white-faced and breathing hard. “I’ll kill him,” he whispered softly.

“How did he know about my nickname and my underpants? Did his father tell him?”

Professor Snape seemed to have difficulty focusing on the questions. “No, Potter’s parents are long dead.” The words seemed to hurt him. “Mister Potter learned of these things because I was teaching him Occluemency on the Headmaster’s orders, and Potter deliberately invaded the memories that I placed in a Pensieve.”

“Potter was rubbing his head and said something about being angry all the time. A few people seemed shocked.”

The professor looked concerned. “That is very disturbing news. As I suspected, the boy has made absolutely no effort to Occlude his mind. I must inform the Headmaster.” He paused. “Do not worry about him. I will find a way to punish him.”

“Don’t bother,” Severus remarked. “He actually apologized. That’s more than any of the Marauders have ever done.”

Snape reached into a drawer and pulled out a book. “This is the Potions text that I mentioned. I have not even gotten a chance to look at it. Perhaps you’d like to have first crack at it.”

It was as good as an apology as Severus was apt to get. “I suppose it’s worth a look,” he said grudgingly. “But you can grade your own bloody essays.”

Chapter Fourteen

The Gryffindor trio stood talking to Hagrid outside his hut. The large man was talking about his latest monstrous pet with a tear in his eye. “’E’s not dangerous t’all!” he protested. “Sure, ’e’s got sharp fangs and breathes fire, but that’s just Nature’s way of lettin’ ‘im defend himself!”

They were saved from responding when Hagrid lifted his head and cried out, “Hullo, Severus! I heard what happened but never got a chance to speak ta ye. How are ye doin’?”

Severus paused, carrying a basket full of vials and collection jars. He had been exploring the grounds in search of potions ingredients. “Hullo, Hagrid,” he said, eyeing the Gryffindors suspiciously.

“C’mere and talk to me a bit. These three won’t hurt ye none.”

Severus approached slowly, sliding his wand into his sleeve, as if he would be hexed in broad daylight in front of a teacher. With his track record, he wouldn’t be surprised. “Are you really teaching Care of Magical Creatures? I heard Draco talking about it.”

Hagrid looked uncomfortable. “Now don’t ye go believin’ everything that that lad says! Buckbeak barely scratched ‘im-”

“Draco was a fool for insulting a hippogriff, and I’ve told him so. Did the students really get to *ride* him?” The Slytherin looked fascinated.

“Well, yeh, if they got on well enough.”

“And your classes get to see Thestrals?”

“Oh yes, fascinatin’ creatures, Thestrals. Luna tells me you’ve been helpin’ her ta feed them.”

“Draco also said something about Blast-Ended Skrewts. I’ve never heard of those. What are they? Did you breed them yourself? However did you get away with making a new breed?”

“Well, I, uh…”

“I wish I’d had you as my teacher. Your classes are so much cooler than Professor Kettleburn’s!”

Hagrid fairly swelled with pride. He rummaged in his pockets and withdrew a grimy-looking handkerchief, which he used to dab at his eyes and loudly blow his nose. It sounded like a foghorn. “That’s a right lovely thing ta say!” he sniffed. “I’m glad ta have a Slytherin who ’preciates my classes.”

“I’m full up this year,” Severus said almost apologetically, “but I’d love to have a few private lessons if you can manage it.”

“Private lessons!” Hagrid sobbed. “Bless yer heart, Severus!” He dashed into his hut, leaving the Gryffindors to gape at his retreating back. They glanced at each other, wearing identical expressions of shame. They had secretly dreaded Hagrid’s classes due to the ferocious creatures that the half-giant loved to adopt and introduce to the students. Severus was genuinely enthusiastic and appreciative, and they felt guilty that they could not bring themselves to feel the same. It had been a relief to drop Care of Magical Creatures.

Hagrid appeared in short order and stuffed something in Snape’s basket. “’Ere ya go! Know ye’ll have a good use fer this.”

Severus reached into the basket and withdrew a handful of fine white hair. “Hagrid! This is unicorn tail! It’s worth a fortune!”

“’Tis nuthin’. The unicorns snag it on branches and such. So long as it’s not taken forcefully, it should be foine for ye ta use. I wuz gonna use it fer bandages, but I s’spect ye’d appreciate it more.”

“Oh! I - thank you!”

“I wuz just about to make my rounds and check in on some ‘o my creatures. Want ta come with? P’raps we’ll come across some more potions ingredients.”

“Sure, all right. I was headed that way anyway.”

“See you three later!” Hagrid called cheerfully as they walked away, talking about Skrewts and Thestrals and all sorts of creatures. Harry, Ron and Hermione could only shake their heads.

Continue to chapters 15-18