Replaced

Replaced - Part 1

The sight of the greasy potions professor leaning over his cauldron was not a strange sight. In fact, to many it was the most common sight in the world.  But what struck Harry as strange was the fact the professor was swearing under his breath. He had never heard such words leave a professors mouth before, let alone this particular professor.

Minutes passed in silence as Harry scrubbed wandlessly at the cauldron in front of him.

"Stupid, snake-faced, bastard."

These words reached Harry loud and clear, making him jump. Then chuckle.

"Laughing at a man's misfortune is uncouth Potter," were the only words that had been spoken to Harry since being given instructions on his detention over an hour ago.

"Uncouth, sir?" Harry spoke without lifting his hands or eyes from his task.

"Yes, Potter. Uncouth. Lacking decent manners or proper refinement." Snape sneered at the boys back. "Not that I'd expect some rebellious Gryffindor such as yourself to know the meaning of such a word."

Harry rolled his eyes but stayed quiet. To avoid more detentions from the prickly man, Harry had learnt to keep his mouth shut. Hermione would be proud he was finally listening.

"Silence Potter. Who knew you were capable?"

Again, Harry did not respond. Though his hands did clench slightly. 

For the next hour Snape would make a remark here or there. Each of them Harry managed to ignore, out loud at least. That did not stop thoughts such as "greasy git", "dungeon bat" and "traitor" from entering his mind though.

Scrubbing cauldrons had to be the most relaxing detention Harry had received. At least all the cleaning for the Dursley's hadn't been for nothing.

Harry had all the cauldrons scrubbed, dried and stacked away in just over two hours.

"I'm finished sir." Harry stated as he placed the last cauldron away on its stand. He started drying his hands on the side of his trousers when a cloth smacked his face and landed on his shoulder.

"Now who's being uncouth," Harry mumbled as his finished drying his hands on the cloth Snape had thrown at him.

"He speaks. And here I thought you'd lost your voice altogether." Snape smirked as he spoke to Harry.

"No sir, just trying to avoid more detentions." Harry picked up his jumper from the top of his bag and put it one while Snape spoke to him.

"I believe it is not myself who needs your silence Mr. Potter. Though it is a definite blessing. Perhaps it will better serve you to employ such tactics in Defense." Snape was inspecting the cauldrons Harry had cleaned when he spoke the last remark. But Harry almost swore it sounded like Snape was trying to give him some advice. Nah, couldn't be. That would mean he actually cared enough about Harry to try and help him. And Harry knew that simply couldn't be true.

"I wouldn't need to 'employ such tactics' if she would pull her head out of Fudge's ass long enough to see I'm telling the truth. Stupid toad." Harry screwed up his face as he spoke, anger taking over slightly.

Snape sighed as he straightened up and turned to face Harry.

"One, your 'colorful' use of the English language has earned you another detention tomorrow night Mr. Potter. And two, while not everyone will always agree with you, she is your teacher and therefor deserves the respect such a position affords her." Snape hated giving Harry detention for what he knew to be truth but agreeing that he didn't like Professor Umbridge would not help the situation.

"But I'm not lying. She thinks Cedric's death was a tragic accident. Can you believe that? She actually said Voldemort wasn't back and I was only trying to get attention. Me!? As if I need anymore attention. Got more than I could ever need already..." Snape could tell Harry had been bottling up a great deal by the way he was winding up to go off on a big tangent.

"Potter."

"Not to mention I got my 'attention' by doing nothing at all. By my mother dying to protect me. Woo hoo, like I'd prefer my mother dead. Id rather she was here, and my dad. I'd rather have them than all the attention and fame. Famous before I could even walk or talk. And what's that fame ever got me?
Relatives who hate me, tried to stamp the magic out of me. Literally. People who only want to be friends because of my name, not because of who I am. People who hate me because of who I am, or who I remind them of..."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "That's enough."

"And the purpose of it all, to kill a man no one else can kill. All because of a stupid prophecy made years ago by a flighty, simple minded – "

"POTTER."

"Not to mention the idiot Death Eater who saw fit to pass such a stupid half prophecy on to their master. Who even does that? Oh hey, here I'll listen to half of what is said, pass it along, all to be considered faithful, who cares whose life gets messed up in the process." Harry was short of breath, but looked like he was gearing up to speak, or rant, again.

"Harry." This time Snape's voice wasn't raised or harsh. It was soft, but enough to draw Harry away from his next words.

"Huh?"

"Eloquent as always Mr. Potter." The words were Snape's usual, but they lacked the normal bite. "I know you're confused, and have many questions, but I don't think I'm the right person to be answering them. Perhaps Albus- "

"Like he'd tell me anything." Harry's words cut over the rest of his sentence. He grabbed his bag, heading for the door. "He waited five years to tell me about the prophecy, and then only said anything because I already knew about it. He couldn't even tell me how Voldemort," Snape flinched, "found out."
Noticing the flinch, Harry turned completely to face the man who had hated him for five years. The look on his face stunned Snape. Never before had he seen Potter look so helpless or pleading.

"You could tell me. You were in his inner circle. One of his most trusted. You'd have to know. Please Professor, I know you don't like me, probably hate me in fact, but I need to know who decided my parent's lives were worth winning a war. Please sir, I have to know."

The pure need for answers in his voice astonished Severus. Before him wasn't The Boy Who Lived, or the bane of his existence. It was James and Lily's son, begging for answers as to why he grew up an orphan. Snape felt compelled to answer, if only to see the hopelessness leave his eyes. But again, Snape really wasn't the person who should be answering this. Damn Albus for not telling the boy sooner. Severus sighed yet again.

"Harry, I'm really not the person to answer this. But I can tell you that knowing the answer will not make your life any easier. It will not take away all the things that you feel. It will not bring her – them back."

Harry's face went from pleading to angry in a second.

"You're just like Dumbledore. Can't be bothered to tell me anything, just expecting me to do as I'm told. Go here Harry, do this Harry, reasons don't matter Harry, just be a savior, Harry. What if I don't want to be the savior? Did anyone think of that. WHAT IF I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY?" Harry's voice had risen to a yell.

Snape would feel magic starting to roll off the boy in waves. Fueled by his anger. Desks started rattling on the cobblestone floors. Potion ingredient jars clattered against each other. A few shattered. 

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for yelling at a teacher. See you here tomorrow night for detention."

Harry's magic stopped. He turned and stomped from the classroom.

Snape waved his hand and repaired the shattered jars and went to his office. Pouring a glass of scotch and downing it in one. Well that went well, he thought.