A Reflection of Himself

The circumstances called for an irritated scowl from the Potions Master. The summer had passed too quickly once again, and now a mere two weeks were remaining before the start of the next school year. Upon waking up that particular morning, Snape had been graced with a note of request from Dumbledore that he see him in his office for an informal lunch. After reading the short note that had been written in Dumbledore's loopy handwriting, Snape scribbled a quick, terse response, begrudgingly agreeing to be there. The morning hours were spent preparing ingredients that the students would need for the upcoming term and working on the syllabi for the various levels. Too soon, only a quarter of an hour remained before noon.

Snape sighed and shook his head in an annoyed manner, closed the ledger in which he had been writing, and stood up from his desk. He quickly strode to the door, closing it firmly, and set it with the what he felt were absolutely necessary wards, finally leaving his office to head for the Headmaster's office. The dungeons were ever damp and on the chilly side, despite the heat and humidity of the summer air outside, but as Snape ascended the stairway to the first level, the air soon changed. He would be more content once the weather cooled to temperatures that were more comfortable for a man who wore black robes, black trousers, a black jacket, and black boots every single day of the year, regardless of the weather conditions.

Upon reaching the gargoyle, Snape sneered as he muttered the appropriate password of "ginger snaps." The revolving, rising stairway set into motion with Snape standing on it, and the door to Dumbledore's office appeared. With just one knock, the door opened when Dumbledore waved his arm toward it to let the younger wizard enter. The first thing, or more like person, that Snape regarded upon coming into the room added to his agitated mood. Sitting opposite of Albus Dumbledore was none other than the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House, Minerva McGonagall.

"Well, are you going to join us?" questioned Dumbledore lightly, noticing that Snape was still standing by the doorway. "Do pull up a chair and enjoy a nice meal with us, Severus."

Snape walked toward the duo and nodded to McGonagall and sat down, facing Dumbledore, saying, "I wasn't aware that you would have company, Albus."

"Oh, do you mean Minerva?" the Headmaster asked, acting like he was going senile, which Snape knew all too well was completely untrue.

Snape rolled his eyes in response, and McGonagall laughed softly, replying in a slightly amused tone of voice, "Why, had I known you wanted to be alone with the Headmaster, Severus, I would have declined his kind invitation for lunch. I assume you were invited, too?"

"No," began Snape sarcastically, "I just decided to ditch my usual routine of taking my lunch by myself in rather pleasant solitude and join a couple of Gryffindor know-it-alls, only to amuse them with my bright and cheery attitude."

The dripping sarcasm which Snape was displaying only adding to the amusement of Dumbledore and McGonagall, but after a few moments, Snape sighed. "I give up," he admitted. "What do you want?"

"I thought you would never ask," replied Dumbledore innocently, but Snape just ate in silence, not wanting to give the Headmaster any more bait for his jollies.

"Well," McGonagall began in a very matter-of-fact tone, "as you know, Severus, each Head of House had to meet with their fifth year students toward of the end last term to discuss possible plans for their future careers. Mr. Potter expressed a genuine interest in becoming an Auror, and I have to admit, it would be the perfect job for him. He is especially talented in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and his O.W.L. score in that subject reflects that very well. I informed him that there are other subjects that are also very important for his studies if he indeed wanted to pursue a career as an Auror. Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions are those subjects. He received good enough marks on his O.W.L.s in both Charms and Transfiguration, but the limiting factor right now is in the subject of Potions. Now, I am not normally one to make exceptions, but Mr. Potter is not just any student, and there is no telling how much longer it will be before he will be able to defeat You-Know-Who once and for all, so Mr. Potter's choice of Auror is perfect for his role that he has been given without his choice. I realize that you hold extremely high standards for your upper level Potions classes, Severus, and I do respect that, but Mr. Potter managed to receive an E in Potions, which in both my opinion and Albus's opinion is more than a good enough score for him to be qualified for Advanced Potions. We wanted to bring this to your attention and discuss your opinions on the matter, hence the lunch that Albus so kindly arranged for today."

McGonagall kept her face even and her eyes on Snape, gauging for a reaction. She expected him to not be pleased with the request, but she had promised Harry that she would do anything in her power to make sure that he would become an Auror. Snape had listened carefully and intently to the whole deliverance of the proposal, and McGonagall was right; he didn't like it, not one bit.

"So," he replied in a deadly quiet voice, "the Famous Harry Potter is above the rules, and an exception is to be made for him yet again. I find it horrifically amusing how time and again since his arrival at Hogwarts that Mr. Potter has been granted special privileges simply because of who he is. I, on the other hand, have tried to treat him no differently than I treat any other student. Why should I make an exception now, Minerva?"

Snape's black eyes bore into her own, and McGonagall become quite cross at once at Snape's blatant refusal. "You won't even consider it, will you? I should not be surprised, of course, but don't you dare sit there and tell me that you treat him just like you would any student. We all know that you show favoritism to your over-valued Slytherins."

That last remark had pushed Snape's temper over the edge of the cliff, and things were all downhill from there. "How dare you accuse me of such nonsense!" he exclaimed, standing up. "I will not sit here a moment longer and listen to this rubbish."

Snape started for the door in a hurry, but Dumbledore, despite his age, moved quicker and blocked that doorway. He fixed Snape with a very grave face.

"Kindly move out of my way, Headmaster," Snape demanded, glaring at the old man.

"Sit down, Severus," Dumbledore replied sternly, "and do not show another display like that again in my office today."

For a few moments, Snape and Dumbledore continued to glare at each other, neither one wanting to back down, but in the end, Snape knew that he owed the Headmaster his respect, so simply out of respect for the old wizard, Snape scowled and reluctantly returned to his seat. Dumbledore resumed his seated position as well and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Please, Severus," Dumbledore practically pleaded, "will you at least listen to her reasoning?"

"What difference does my opinion make, anyway?" sneered Snape, avoiding eye contact with either of the other individuals who were seated around that small table filled with half-eaten food. "What difference has my opinion ever really made, Albus? Kindly answer me that."

McGonagall sat there in utter silence and regarded Snape carefully, but her gaze turned to Dumbledore as the wise, old wizard spoke. "You know that is not true, Severus," he tried to gently assure the younger man. "I value your opinion on many issues when it comes to Hogwarts and how it is to be run. If I had no respect for your thoughts on such matters, I would not ask you for your opinions. I would not have asked for your presence here today if I didn't think your input mattered."

"You know quite well how I feel about making exceptions for Harry Potter," Snape replied softly, his eyes downcast, "but you are the Headmaster, after all, so if you feel the Potter boy should be granted the permission to take Advanced Potions against my approval, then by all means, Albus, be my guest... go right ahead, but do not expect me to like it or to cater to the boy when his performance in my classes falls below what I consider acceptable marks to be kept in my class."

"I will not do anything to go against your wishes, Severus," Dumbledore stressed. "This is your subject, and these are your classes, after all, but I ask you once again to please consider Minerva's request."

In his chair, Snape slumped over and sighed long and deeply. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance, feeling a headache coming on strongly. He feared he would need to resort to some type of medication later, if not immediately after this little meeting was adjourned. Finally, after several minutes in silence had passed, he looked up and fixed his eyes squarely on McGonagall.

"I am warning you now, Minerva, if I let the boy into Advanced Potions, that will be the only bending of the rules I will make. If Mr. Potter proves less than able to commit to the demands of an upper level class, which I am quite sure will be the case, I will not hesitate for one minute to drop him right out of my classes. Do I make myself exceedingly clear?"

"Yes, Severus," McGonagall replied, feeling relief rush over her. "So are you saying you will allow Mr. Potter to take Advanced Potions?"

"Very well, yes, Mr. Potter may take Advanced Potions, but remember what I have told you. The minute that boy comes running to you, telling you how unfair and cruel I have been, you will tell him that he had his chance and that I have already been more than accommodating."

"Thank you, thank you, Severus," she said, flushing a bit.

"Do not thank me just yet, Minerva."

"Well, I am quite pleased that we have resolved that little issue," Dumbledore interjected with the merriment back in his tone. "Now, Minerva, if you wouldn't mind, may Severus and I have a moment, please?"

"Of course, Albus," the witch responded, standing up and pushing her chair back in with ease.

She left the room, and Dumbledore faced Snape with a glittery smile plastered to his aged face, his blue eyes sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles. Snape felt rather unnerved by the Headmaster's glaringly jovial expression that he was sending in his direction, and he tried his best to avoid saying anything biting. Rather, Snape picked up his cup of coffee, and taking a small sip, he noticed that it had cooled considerably, so he reached for the pot and refilled it. He absently stirred a bit of cream into it, took another sip, and finally placed it back down on the saucer.

When Snape dared to look at Dumbledore's face again, the aged wizard was no longer smiling as if he had lost his mind completely. Now, he smiled contentedly, but his brow was creased, as if he were concerned about something. Snape couldn't take another moment of sitting in this unsettling silence, so he muttered, "What is it, sir?"

"Severus," sighed Dumbledore heavily, "I just wanted to say thank you for allowing Harry to take Advanced Potions. I know it wasn't easy for you to agree to our request, but-"

"No, Headmaster, it was far from easy; let me assure you," mumbled Snape with distaste coating his every word. "You knew full well inviting me here what you were intending to ask. Why do you always have to make such an occasion of these types of things?"

Dumbledore shook his head, now clearly showing signs of concern on his ancient features. "It is not that Minerva and I enjoy asking such things of you, but I have unfortunately had to ask much more trying things of you, Severus. Do you know how difficult it is for me to ask of you what I do, knowing you may not return, knowing you very well might wind up killed by Voldemort?"

Snape visibly cringed at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, saying, "Do you have to say that filthy creature's bloody name, for heaven's sake, Albus?"

"I am sorry," Dumbledore sincerely apologized, then continued, placing a hand gently on Snape's shoulder, "but I worry about you."

"Don't," Snape retorted, but his tone lacked much of its usual bite. "I don't need to be pitied."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly and delicately squeezed Snape's shoulder with the hand he had rested there. "It is not pity, and you know that, young man. It is called concern, compassion, caring, but it is not pity. Is an old man not allowed to be concerned for your well-being, Severus?"

"You can be if you so choose it, but you're wasting your time, Albus," Snape said softly, looking away in shame.

"Never say that again," replied Dumbledore firmly. "Now you look at me, Severus. Come now, look at me straight in the eyes."

For a while, Snape refused to gaze into Dumbledore's gentle, forgiving eyes, for he knew it would tear him apart inside to look at the old man's eyes and know that Dumbledore loved him like a father loved his son. He didn't feel worthy of such love, and as much as he tried to deny it, that refusal didn't stop Dumbledore from being an ever-present source of comfort. Finally, Snape moved his gaze from the floor to Dumbledore's face, and in Snape's dark eyes, all the old man could see was emptiness and so much desperation.

Dumbledore moved his hand from Snape's shoulder and brought it to Snape's younger hands, bringing his aged other hand there as well, and enclosing the torn man's hands in his own. "You don't have to prove yourself to me, Severus," he began in the most earnest voice possible. "You already did a long time ago. I know it is not easy for you to see Harry Potter receiving so much recognition simply because he is the Boy Who Lived when you have been doing so much behind the scenes, never once receiving the recognition you deserve, but I have been watching all these years. The boy will one day realize just what you sacrifice."

Snape didn't say anything, because despite what Dumbledore told him, Snape didn't want to believe any of it. His life was one of guilt for past decisions that he had been forced to live to regret, and the only hope that really kept him going was atonement for his bad choices, hoping that working for the Order and for Dumbledore would only prove its worth once Voldemort was defeated permanently. His eyes shown brightly with unshed tears, but he refused to let them fall, especially in front of someone else. After Dumbledore had finished speaking, Snape slowly dropped his head, hiding his face behind curtains of black hair, hiding from the world.

Some time later, Dumbledore's voice nearly scared the wits out of Snape when the old man said gently, "You may go now, Severus. I won't keep you."

Snape tried to manage a weak smile and nodded, standing up from his seat. He walked slower than usual to the door, and just as he placed his hand on the knob, Snape turned to face the Headmaster, saying almost inaudibly, "Thank you, Albus."

Before Dumbledore could reply, Snape opened the door and left the Headmaster to his private thoughts.

Just under two weeks before school started and Harry was enjoying sleeping in while he still could. A few days ago, the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry had made a trip to Diagon Alley, where they purchased their books and supplies for the quickly approaching school year. Harry slowly came to terms with the fact that he wouldn't be able to become an Auror, so he pushed thoughts out of his mind for the time being regarding what he would do after Hogwarts.

The sun was already high in the sky that day, and Harry was still lying in bed. A sudden knock from the door woke him with a start. He grabbed his glasses off the nightstand next to him and asked, "Yes? Who is it?"

"It's me, Ginny," replied a muffled voice on the other side of the door. "Can I come in?"

"Er... sure," Harry said, making sure he was dressed enough. He was wearing his pajamas, so he figured it would be all right for Ginny to enter. Ron was already awake and out of the bedroom, so as Ginny came into the room, Harry and she were alone.

"Good morning," she smiled. "Of course, it's almost afternoon by now. Have you had a nice nap?" she teased.

"Very funny, Ginny," Harry mused sarcastically. "Is there something you wanted?"

"This just came for you by owl post," she replied matter-of-factly, holding out a rolled piece of paper.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, reaching for the said paper. Unrolling the parchment, Harry's eyes nearly bulged out of their stockets. "I- I don't believe it," he said, astonished.

"What?" Ginny asked nervously. "What is it?"

"It's a letter from Professor McGonagall with an additional book on it that I'll be needing for a class that I've just been approved to take..."

"That's a bit vague, don't you think?" Ginny asked, annoyed. "What book and what class?"

"Advanced Potions," Harry replied, awe-struck. "Snape must've approved... but I thought..."

"Don't ask questions, Harry. This is good, right? I mean, you'll be able to become an Auror, after all!" exclaimed Ginny. "Oh, I can't wait for you to tell the others!"

Harry smiled, still in disbelief. Maybe things were finally looking up after weeks of being in the lowest valleys of depression.