Rating:: PG-13
House:: The Dark Arts
Characters:: Harry Potter Severus Snape
Genres:: General Drama
Era:: Multiple Eras
Stats:: Published: 01/31/2004

Updated: 07/22/2005

Words: 484,149

Chapters: 73

Hits: 73,081

Resonance

Salamander

Story Summary:: Snape adopts Harry in this story that stretches from the end of year six until Harry starts his Auror apprenticeship. Harry defeats Voldemort and has to deal with not only with his now greatly increased fame, but also with some odd, disturbing skills he inherited from the Dark Lord. Both he and Snape fumble around trying for some kind of family normalcy, which neither one is very knowledgeable of. Harry survives his seventh year at Hogwarts with a parent as a teacher and starts his training as an Auror.

Chapter 21

Chapter Summary:: Harry is again at odds with the Potions professor. He thinks he is up for the battle, but he doesn’t understand what she is really after.

Posted:: 04/24/2004

Hits:: 1,143

Chapter 21 - Potions with a Capital "P"

Tuesday Potions gave Harry more of a flashback than he ever expected to get. As they all took notes on the lecture, Greer called on him. She had a smile on her face that made him wonder with a jolt if she were actually Umbridge using a Polyjuice potion to look like someone else. It was a Nagini kind of smile.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, what kind of caustic is shared by Beetlejubs and Bezoars?"

Harry blinked at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione move in a way that made him think she didn't know the answer either.

"Mr. Potter?" the teacher prompted with a acidic sweetness.

The question did remind him of something. Something from one of the other texts he'd read the first few chapters of over the summer. He racked his memory. "Uh, Clian- Clyentate?" That wasn't quite right.

"Wrong, Mr. Potter," she said airily, enormously pleased. Harry glanced at the other Gryffindors. All of them shrugged that they didn't know either, making Harry feel better.

Greer spent an inordinate amount of time hovering around his cauldron while they brewed as well. This didn't bother Harry much; she couldn't touch Snape for intimidation. He acted surprised to find her there when she finally did critique their potions.

"Perfect potion, Ms. Granger. Too much heat when you added the fly's legs, Potter. You will get graded down for that," she said happily as she strode on to the next bench, where the students suddenly stood straighter as she approached.

Harry glanced into Hermione's cauldron, then into his. They didn't look the least bit different. He shook his head.

At the end of class, Greer handed out essay assignments. This in itself was a little odd. She did it as they walked out the door. "Due Friday," she said happily. "That will leave your weekend free . . . "

Several students actually thanked her for that. Harry took his parchment slip and put it into his bag. Hermione read hers as they walked. "Describe the uses of the seven kinds of bezoar-based potions. Doesn't sound too bad." She tucked it away in her book which she left in her hand since it didn't look like it would fit in her bag.

As they mounted the stairs to the ground floor, Harry looked around for a place to pull her aside. His secret was starting to tangle his insides and looking at her calm visage, as she thought ahead to the rest of the day, reassured him that, she of all people, would understand. As they approached the entrance hall, he espied the staff lounge as Professor Vector stepped out of it. It looked empty and, although the door had closed, he knew the password.

Harry gave a tug on Hermione's arm. She turned to him with a questioning expression. "Um, there is something--" Harry started to say. His expression must have looked pained because her brow furrowed in concern.

"Hey there," Ginny said, stepping over to them.

Harry looked over at her. Ron ambled up behind his sister.

"Uh," Hermione said.

"Lunch time," Harry announced, stepping through them all to lead the way. The thought of Ron finding out produced a cold fear in Harry, which made him feel trapped. He was very grateful that Hermione was smart enough not to prompt him more as they walked to their table.

As they sat at lunch, Hermione sent Harry questioning looks. He gave her small wry smiles back. Ron asked her to read his essay for History and she occupied her self with that as she ate. Well, it's like this, he imagined himself saying to her. Professor Snape, well, adopted me. It sounded odd even to him in the context of the Great Hall filled with his loudly chattering peers. Six years of history complicated things incredibly.

Harry ate a nicely crispy panini as he watched his two friends. They were sitting very close together; they had leaned in over the essay so they were touching all along their sides. It occured to Harry with a twinge that Hermione's loyalty was almost certainly not first to him no matter the topic. Nor Ron's. He turned to the head table. Snape's eyes narrowed for a half-second, a sign Harry knew that meant he was curious or even concerned. Harry managed a light smile for him before returning to his lunch.

* * *

After Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon, Harry went up to the fourth floor. Snape was reading intently from a large book when Harry entered. He closed the door and waited for Snape to put down the hand he had raised for silence. Snape's lips moved as he recited something from the text, making Harry curious. At the end of the page, he put his hand down and looked up in question.

"This is quick," Harry assured him, glancing upside-down at the detailed page of curse applications. "Do you have those other Seventh Year Potions texts?"

Snape's brow went up. He pointed to a bookshelf in the corner. Harry went over and crouched to look on the bottom shelf, the only shelf that held books that looked like textbooks. "What is this other one?" Harry asked of a worn, narrow, thick volume titled Potions Compendym.

"You may borrow that as well, should you wish to. May I ask why you feel you need them?"

Harry sighed. "Greer asked me today what caustic Beetlejubs and Bezoars have in common. I almost remembered," he said in frustration. "It was in this one." He set the books on the corner of the desk and pulled out a blue-covered one. He flipped it open. "Catalyndate. I was close."

"It was not in your regular reading, I assume."

"No. It was not." Harry opened his bag to fit the books in. He pulled out the parchment slip with his essay assignment to keep it from getting crumpled. He glanced at it and froze with a growl. It was a different topic than Hermione's--a much harder one.

"Something the matter?" Snape asked mildly as he flipped through the volume in front of him.

"Yes, but I'll handle it." He pocketed the parchment and loaded the books into his bag. "I'll take this one too," he said and pulled the compendium from the shelf. It barely fit in his bag lying sideways on top. He laughed lightly, thinking that the assignment was due on Friday to make it hard for him to get help. As he reached the door, he said, "I'll have to see you later, sir. I have a lot to do."

Harry worked every spare minute on his Potions essay, neglecting his other class assignments somewhat. On Thursday night as they all sat around studying, he asked Hermione, "Can you read over my essay for tomorrow?"

Hermione wiped her fingers from the biscuit she'd been eating and accepted his rolled parchment. "This is long, Harry," she commented as she unfurled the top of it. After she read the first part, she said, "What is this?"

Harry, holding out his assignment slip, said, "I received a different assignment than everyone else."

In disbelief, Hermione looked at his slip. "Compare and contrast the three major brewing techniques of heat-simmer, brew-ferment, and flash. Include detailed cases where one is superior to another and explain why. Harry this is nuts. This isn't even a N.E.W.T. essay. No wonder you've had all of those other books out."

"Snape loaned them to me."

"He did?" she asked in surprise. "Didn't he insist you tell him why you needed them?" She picked up the compendium. "Wow, this is hard to find. I'm surprised he trusted you with it."

Harry blinked at that series of confused assertions. He couldn't imagine Snape withholding books from him, of all things. "I didn't tell him why. I didn't want to sound like I was whining about another teacher." This at least was the truth. "Can you read it over?"

"I am not going to be much help, I don't think, but I'll try." She read the first part of it. "Did you discuss crystallization differences?"

"No, I forgot about that." Harry made a note to himself on one of the many parchments he'd been recording his readings on. "See, you're helping already."

"Harry, why didn't you complain in class yesterday?"

"She was waiting for me to. Like I'd give her the satisfaction."

"She shouldn't have done this. And you're too accustomed to hating the Potions teacher, that's for certain," she commented as she read. "Boy, this is long." She unfurled it all the way. "You have declared war right back, I see."

Harry grinned.

* * *

In Potions the next day, Harry actually went so far as to use one of his old Occlusion exercises to keep his expression even as he fished out his essay and handed it forward. The student in front of him, Justin, weighed it in his hand and gave him a questioning glance. Harry just shrugged as though it were nothing. Surreptitiously, he watched as Greer glanced at a few of the essays as they came to the front, including his. But her reaction was to smile a bit more to herself, which confused him.

Deathly tired of the subject of Potions, but having no choice, Harry took out his quill and started taking notes.

They had no afternoon classes that day, so they went out on the lawn and relaxed in the sunshine.

"Greer didn't say anything," Hermione commented in disbelief.

"You turned in that monster essay and she didn't make anything of it?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "I have no idea what she is up to. Even Snape never stooped that low. Exactly."

Hermione said, "No, he just didn't grade your potions at all sometimes. Dropped them on the floor, for example."

"Actually, he said he did grade them," Harry said.

"When did he say that?" she asked.

"Over the summer I got mad and accused him of it in front of McGonagall. It was pretty funny the way she laid into him." Harry didn't explain that Snape had gone on to point out a bit angrily that Harry should have realized a show was being put on for Malfoy, Nott, and company.

"Wow," Ron said. "Wish I'd been there to see that."

* * *

It was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry had a sense that Ron and Hermione wanted to hang out together, alone. He sent them on without him, saying he wanted to work on D.A. spells while it was quiet. In reality it was a good opportunity to spend time with his guardian without an excuse. Last weekend, he'd told his friends he'd been with Dumbledore longer than he really had.

Snape wasn't in his office. Harry went down to the dungeon and found him in the corridor, ferrying extra cauldrons from the classroom. "Are you here to help?" his guardian asked.

"If you want help."

"Yes, of course." He walked Harry patiently through the currently brewing potions and the instructions for each which were placed beneath them on the shelf. "If you will handle these four for the next fifteen minutes, I will start another one." He set the two empty cauldrons up as Harry quickly reviewed the instructions for the ones he'd been assigned. The next twenty minutes was a blur of hurried stirring and ingredient adding.

"Holding it together there, Harry?" Snape asked at one point.

"Yes, Severus, I am," Harry said, a little put out at being doubted. He stirred two cauldrons at once before turning the burner up on one of them, wishing for a third hand, then wondering if there were a spell for one.

Once the other two cauldrons were simmering, Snape checked Harry's work. He made an ingredient adjustment on one of them and then nodded. "They can simmer now. Thank you for assisting," Snape said as he closed the lids on the prepped ingredient jars and put them away in a small cabinet.

"If it is the only way to spend time with you . . . " Harry said as he read through the corresponding discussion for one of the potions.

"It isn't the only way. Shall we go up to my office and have lunch in?"

Harry put the book back on the shelf. "I'd like that."

* * *

Hermione and Ron returned just before curfew, smiling and laughing. Harry forced down his feeling of being left out as he met them in the entrance hall. "Hey, Harry, " Ron called. His cheeks were a little red from the sun.

"We just ate," Hermione explained when Harry gestured for them to go into the Hall.

"All right," Harry managed levelly.

"We could do second pudding," Ron suggested.

"No, we couldn't," Hermione retorted in disbelief.

"See you later," Harry said and joined the stream of students going in. He sat with Ginny, Neville and Colin.

As the plates of food appeared, Justin stopped beside them and said, "Hermione told us Greer gave you an essay assignment ten times harder than the rest of us and that was why she handed them out rather than just telling us the topic."

"Looks that way. I did finish it," Harry said with a grin.

"That's nutters. You should have complained," he insisted, sounding like he was willing to take on some of the unfairness of it.

"I'm sure that's what she wanted me to do," Harry said. Justin shrugged and stepped over to the next table. Harry took a glance at the head table, Greer had her eyes narrowed at him all right. "I don't know what her problem is, but I'm not giving in," he said quietly.

Pointing at him with her fork, Ginny said, "Harry, I think you like being persecuted."

Harry's lips cocked sideways. "I did have fun working on that essay even though it was wicked hard."

"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Ginny asked.

In a high pitched mimic of Hermione, Harry said, "We ate already in Hogsmeade and we're soooo tired."

Ginny laughed. "Oh yeah. I can see that. Getting serious, those two."

"That's why I split them up when we were fighting in the entrance hall," Neville said in a falsely stern voice. "I thought, if they are side-by-side they might forget we're fighting Voldemort."

They all laughed.

When he finished his plate, and before he stood to leave, Harry took another peek at the head table--this time to look for Snape. Even through the hair that had fallen over his face, he could see Snape's brow go up. Harry gave him a small smile. If he'd glanced at Greer, he would have seen her eyes narrowing more at him.

* * *

Tuesday in Potions, Harry waited impatiently for his essay to be returned. Greer strode back to the front of the room without returning it, but having returned everyone else's. Hermione gave him a wide-eyed look. He raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" she drolled.

"I didn't get my essay back, ma'am," Harry pointed out in the nicest voice he could manage.

"See me after class, Mr. Potter," she said in a stiff tone he didn't recognize.

Harry made it through class and brewing, but just barely. Greer seemed downright predatory today as she stalked around the room. She was too chubby to slither the way Snape had, but she still managed. Her long fingernails tapped on the bench tops as she circled. At Harry's table, they all made faces of dismay at each other when her back was turned.

Finally the bell rang and everyone packed up and left. Harry packed his rucksack and left it on the bench.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Harry asked. She hadn't looked up at him so he'd been forced to walk up to her desk.

"Do you know the penalty for cheating in this school, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "How does that matter, ma'am?"

Anger came through now. She had his essay in her hand, crumpled a bit. "Excessive assistance constitutes cheating, Mr. Potter," she said in a victorious tone.

"I didn't get any help with that," Harry said, pointing at the parchment.

"Don't lie to me--I can see right through you, my boy."

"Right." Harry said as he thought, you haven't seen anything about seeing through people.

"Who helped you with this?" she demanded. "Or need I not ask?"

"No one helped me with it," Harry repeated.

She huffed. "We'll see about that." She came around her desk and headed for the door. "Follow me," she ordered.

"Where are we going?"

"To see the headmaster. There are some other things he should be made aware of as well, I should think." She sounded righteous, a bit like Aunt Petunia.

Harry, thinking of Dumbledore not needing an interruption of his quiet contemplation, said, "I don't think it is worth bothering the headmaster for, ma'am. How about Professor McGonagall--she's the deputy headmistress?"

They were going along the ground floor corridor now. "And your Head of House," Greer said smartly.

"She has always been very impartial," Harry insisted.

Even though his legs didn't look any shorter than hers, he was rushing to keep up. She didn't respond to that assertion. Harry was out of breath when they made it to the seventh floor. She gave the password and the gargoyle leapt aside. Harry protested again, "I really don't think-"

She grabbed the collar of his robe and dragged him into the escalator. Harry was too startled to do more than regain his balance. Like Mulciber, she had him beat easily if he couldn't use magic. At the top, Greer barely waited for an invitation to her knock before opening the door. She pulled Harry in behind her, only letting go when they stood before the headmaster's desk.

Dumbledore looked calmly up at them. He sat writing a letter it looked like, with his glasses perched on his nose.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Greer began a bit pompously, "I have a number of problems with this student to discuss with you."

Dumbledore looked curiously at Harry as the latter straightened his robes from having his collar twisted. "Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore intoned.

"Good morning, Albus," Harry said back. Dumbledore's eye twinkled at that. Greer seemed rather startled by it, which was Harry's intent.

"Now, Gertie, what is your concern?" Dumbledore asked as he put his quill aside and rolled up the letter.

"First off, I must say this boy is treated far too casually and leniently by your staff."

Dumbledore slipped his spectacles off and folded them slowly. "Well, you will have to forgive us for that--we are very appreciative of having Voldemort gone." She sniffed a bit doubtfully, making Dumbledore elaborate, "If you had been one of the ones who were duped completely and drawn away from the school just when the students needed us the most, and upon realizing this, imagined the worst, only to return to find Mr. Potter here standing over Voldemort's remains and the rest of his club students incarcerating his followers. We perhaps have gone a little soft on him. If we start to forget, we only need consider that the alternative outcome would have been utterly tragic." He gave Harry an affectionate look.

The headmaster sat straighter and went on, "Nevertheless, if there is a problem to be addressed, we will by all means do so." He gave her a questioning expression.

Greer geared up her anger again as she pulled out Harry's essay. "Mr. Potter is receiving undue assistance on his assignments."

"I did not!"

"Harry," Dumbledore said in a firm tone. "You will get your turn."

Harry bit his lip as Greer went on. "I do not like my students getting assistance on assignments that are used to determine a final grade. I have the records of his previous grades in Potions, they are marginal at best. It is not possible that he is capable of the work he is turning in as his own, yet he persists in lying about getting help. I am especially disappointed that it is presumably another staff member who is giving him said assistance."

She held out the essay, but Dumbledore waved it off.

Greer continued in a lower tone, "As well, I have observed what I believe to be an inappropriate relationship involving Mr. Potter and a member of your staff, which I am certain is outside the bounds of school regulations."

Harry stared at her now, trying to catch up with that. He was starting to suspect that she wasn't after him, but Snape. Dumbledore's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Harry, do you have a response to that?"

Harry backed up mentally. "I haven't had any more assistance on my assignments than normal. Hermione reads my essays over when she has time and notes things she thinks are wrong. She doesn't say how to fix it, though, so I don't consider it cheating and neither have any of the other teachers. I haven't had any help from a teacher with any of my Potions essays."

"Potter, you can't honestly expect me to believe you wrote this!" she held the essay out to him.

"I did," Harry insisted calmly. "As to Professor Greer's second allegation, I'm not sure what she's referring to."

"Your grades took a very interesting turn upward the last two months of the previous year, Mr. Potter."

Harry shrugged. "I was studying harder."

"Don't play coy with me." Her voice dropped even lower, unimaginably low, as she pointed at the door with his rolled up essay. "I saw you in my office last Saturday. I'm certain you didn't know I was there." Harry shook his head and thought fiercely back to the weekend brewing session while she grinned happily.

"Harry?" Dumbledore prompted.

"I honestly don't know what she is referring to, sir. I spent twenty minutes or so helping Professor Snape with some potions."

"Potter," she said as though he hoped she was stupid. "He had his hand on your back as he explained the potions to you, and he stood much closer than would ever be appropriate in my experience."

Harry gave her a studious look. He was a little embarrassed, mostly because he knew Snape would not want Dumbledore to hear this.

The headmaster stood up. "Professor, if you will allow me to address these issues in the order of their seriousness."

She became all prim again. "Of course, Headmaster."

"When I hired you to teach Potions, we both agreed that since you had not taught in seven years, and not so many classes at once, that it would be best if you were not also burdened with the duties of Potions master."

Flustered, Greer stammered, "Yes sir, but-"

Dumbledore held up his hand to forestall her. Harry grinned and ducked his head. He really did love Dumbledore.

"If you have changed your mind or are feeling as though your territory is being invaded, you should have come to me to renegotiate."

"That doesn't have anything to do with this," she insisted, gesturing at Harry with the parchment.

"Ah, but it does, I believe," he countered kindly.

Greer's mouth twisted to the side as she took that in.

"Harry, perhaps you should explain . . . " Dumbledore was giving him a look that Harry read as, see what happens when you keep things to yourself?

Harry sighed and said, "Professor Snape is my d- . . . guardian." Dumbledore gave him a sharp, amused look at that. "He adopted me," Harry added, a little rattled by his near slip.

After a long stare, Greer breathed, "You aren't serious?"

"I witnessed the papers myself," the headmaster supplied. "Was there anything in what you saw that exceeded the bounds of a parent-child relationship?"

Harry rolled his eyes uneasily. Greer muttered in barely audible speech, "No, not at all."

Dumbledore retook his seat. "As to the allegations of cheating, I suggest you ask Professor Snape how much, if any, help he provided on the assignment. Good day, Professor," he said dismissively. With a smile he said more brightly, "Good day, Harry."

At the bottom of the escalator, Greer thrust the rolled parchment at him. "Get it signed off by Snape that you didn't receive any help. Then I'll grade it." She stalked off.

Harry used a flattening charm on his essay to take out worst of the wrinkles, then rerolled it carefully. His bag was still in the dungeon; he'd have to retrieve it before lunch ended. He went down three floors just in case Snape was in his office. He wasn't, but the classroom door was open. A peek inside verified that Snape was cleaning up from the previous class. Bits of wood disappeared from the floor with a banishing charm as Harry stepped in and closed the door.

"Harry," Snape said as he looked up.

"I need to have you sign something," Harry said. "And to warn you that Greer has it in for you."

"I was already aware of that," Snape commented easily as Harry stepped over to him.

"Did you know she was in her office last Saturday?" Harry asked. Snape shook his head with a thoughtful expression. He took the parchment Harry held out as he explained in a annoyed way, "She insists that you sign that you didn't help with it. Otherwise she won't grade it." Harry watched in mild trepidation as Snape's eyes scanned the first section of the essay. "She dragged me up to Dumbledore's office just now to accuse me of cheating," he said to fill the silence. When Snape went on reading, Harry, with growing concern, said, "You don't need to grade it--just sign it."

"You did a good job on this," Snape commented. "Greer gives remarkably difficult essay assignments and could not have given you much time to finish this as it is only the third week of classes." He carried the essay, still reading it, over to the desk to pull out a quill. "Reyfrem is not a reagent," he said.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "I said that wrong. I was pretty tired when I wrote that part."

"The entire class must be tired."

"No one else got that assignment," Harry said. "Everyone else had: describe the seven kinds of bezoar-based potions."

Snape looked up at that with an intense expression. "And you didn't complain?"

"I thought she was trying to get to me. I would have, if I'd known she was trying to get to you, by giving me an assignment she was certain you'd have to help with."

Snape read over the rest of it. He pulled out his wand and obliterated the erroneous line. "Rewrite that and I'll sign it," he said, pushing the parchment over to Harry.

Harry laughed and shook his head. He crouched so he could write normally in the blank space and repaired the miswritten line. "I'm only doing this because I did know better, just didn't write it out very well."

"Of course, Harry," Snape said in a patronizing tone. He took the parchment back and added a line across the entire bottom edge of Harry's text and wrote just below it, No assistance provided, with his signature. As Harry rolled it up again, Snape said, "If I were you, I would insist it count as the mid-term."

"You think so?"

"Yes. I am impressed, Harry. Makes me think I didn't challenge you enough."

"Oh, you did," Harry strongly insisted, garnering a small smile from his guardian.

Essay in hand, Harry went back to the dungeon to collect his bag. The classroom was empty. He knocked on the office door and was told to enter.

"My assignment, ma'am," Harry said levelly. He brought it up to the desk and set it there. She kept writing in her log book with her quill and didn't look up. After a moment she waved him off. Harry turned and started back to the door. Peeved at her silent dismissal of things, he turned at the door and said, "Ma'am, if you think you know how to see through people, you should look up Legilimency in the library next time you are there."

She gave him a withering look. "Did I ask for your advice, Mr. Potter? I am quite certain I didn't."

"I'll keep the second part of it to myself then, ma'am, which was listing the staff who know it. It is no matter to me. Good day, Professor," Harry finished in a calm, level voice that he thought even Dumbledore would be proud of.

* * *

Breakfast was Harry's favorite meal, usually. This particular morning, however, it wasn't going as well. There was a lot more whispering and glances his way than normal. Much more. Students were passing around copies of what looked like the Prophet, and reading avidly. Harry tried not to look too alarmed by this as he reached for the honey.

Hermione was eating calmly and reading her own copy with her normal intent expression. Harry resisted the strong urge to jerk it out of her hands. Torturous, long minutes passed as he tried to eat, tried to listen to the whispering, and waited for the paper.

Justin swept behind and hit him on the shoulder. "Hey, Harry," he said meaningfully.

"Huh?" Harry asked him.

"You don't have to explain," Justin said in a false sympathy as he stepped to his table. Harry resisted glancing at the head table, but just barely.

Luna stopped by next. "Really," she said, sounding disappointed in him.

"What?" Harry asked her. His uneven heartbeat was struggling with the notion that the reactions were just a little off from what he feared.

"Oh, this," Hermione's voice said, grabbing Harry's attention. He swallowed and waited as she read something on the back page. She shook her head in confusion and with a dubious look, handed the paper over to Harry.

This reporter is hearing rumors that a certain wizard hero is in a family way. More to follow when verification can be obtained.

It was Skeeter's gossip column on the back page. "Family way?" Harry asked aloud, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Everyone around him broke out laughing.

"Whose the lucky girl, Harry?" Ginny asked suggestively, then flickered her eyelashes at him. They all giggled again.

"No one," Harry snapped, tossing the paper back on the table. "Argh," he breathed. Even Hermione couldn't keep from laughing. Harry shook his head and finally managed to eat some of his cold breakfast. Skeeter was getting close though, he really didn't know how much longer he had to work things out his own way, whatever that way was.

* * *

After Herbology that afternoon, Harry watched Ron and Hermione's backs as they disappeared into the rose garden, engrossed in conversation. This left Harry free to visit his guardian. He had a question about his Potions reading as well that he would much rather ask of Snape.

In the fourth floor corridor, Harry paused outside the door because Malfoy was inside. He looked to be having something explained to him, but it wasn't something out of their class textbook.

"I expect to finish this one next week," Malfoy was saying in what must be his Best Boy voice. "Which one should I order to read next? This book refers to another by Brutus Brindlestiff. Do you know of it?"

Shit, Harry thought, what is Snape teaching him? He had a flash of the future: him as an Auror facing off with a Malfoy armed with spells Snape had taught him. His shoulder tired, so he set his bag down beside the door. Malfoy noticed him and gave him that sly smile again. Harry leaned against the doorframe and waited patiently. Snape suggested a different book and gave Malfoy a slip with an address from which to obtain it.

The blonde boy slunk over to Harry. "Need extra help, Potter?" he asked snidely.

"No," Harry replied in an almost friendly tone, refusing to be baited. They passed close in the doorway.

"Come in, Mr. Potter," Snape said as he arranged a small stack of parchments on his desk. He glanced up at Malfoy and added, "and close the door."

Harry froze at that and at the dark look Malfoy was now giving him. The scene Greer had caused in the headmaster's office played through his mind. "Uh . . . " he started. Malfoy actually looked furious now as he glanced between them. Harry held the door open and said to the Slytherin boy. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Malfoy's pale eyes looked him over in silent, disapproving appraisal.

Harry stepped closer to him and dove in. "How about the truth?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape's head come up sharply. He glanced that way. "Trust me," Harry explained.

Snape rested his chin on the back of his fingers and considered them both. "Mr. Malfoy does know how to keep things to himself," Snape stated in a oddly mild tone, leading Harry to wonder what he had on Malfoy. "Sit down, Harry. Mr. Malfoy, step in and close the door."

After Harry took a seat, Snape sighed and considered him in consternation a moment. Harry gave him a shrug. "Potter has apparently seen something here that I did not," Snape said. "Perhaps because you have been competing only against yourself, Mr. Malfoy, even though you didn't recognize it. To save you further effort and . . ." Here he looked over at Harry in question. " . . . to address something Mr. Potter is concerned about, I should tell you that I have adopted Mr. Potter."

Malfoy's mouth fell open. "What?" he finally breathed. He spun on his heel and paced a bit, actually whimpering once as he turned. After a few times across the floor he stepped over to Harry. "No wonder I couldn't bait you at all. It was taking all the fun out of it, frankly."

Harry chuckled silently and grinned at the boy. Malfoy made a noise of despair and put his hand over his eyes a bit theatrically, although Harry expected he meant it. Finally he put his arm down and said to his teacher, "Is that all, sir?" in a rather worn tone.

Snape, fighting a grin, replied, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

At the door, Malfoy stopped. "I couldn't tell the House that, sir. I'm not that cruel," he said before he left.

When the door reclosed, Snape gave Harry, who was still trying not to laugh, a questioning look. "I assume there was reason for that."

"There was," Harry insisted. "Haven't you noticed Greer is off your back?"

Snape raised a brow. "I did."

Harry sighed. "Let's just say that when she dragged me up to Dumbledore, she was pretty certain she had you gone." He watched Snape take that in before he added, "I really didn't feel like going through that again." Harry smiled again and quipped happily, "It is fun to beat Malfoy at anything, though. And to make him miserable."

"Was there something specific you wanted?" Snape asked slowly with a hint of dismay. "Or are you just visiting?"

Harry reached for his bag. "I did have have a Potions question, if you don't mind. But it's mostly a visit."

Snape accepted Harry's notes with a long exhale that implied he was trying hard to be tolerant. Harry laughed lightly, not buying it.

Author notes: Next: Chapter 22 -- Painful Truth

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"Really, sir," Ron said, stepping into the doorway. "Harry didn't do anything."

Filch ignored Ron. "It's just occurring to me Potter, that with the headmaster feeling less than his usual self and you having no parents to squawk, that there is no real limit to your punishment." He grinned a yellow toothy grin. With sadistic pleasure, he said, "Well, now, yes, that does seem to be the case, doesn't it?"
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