In Somnis Veritas

3

 It had been a busy week for Professor Snape. The start of a new school year always was, but this one had proven to be particularly trying.

His new group of Slytherin first years were, undoubtedly, some of the most troublesome students he had ever had the pleasure of in his house. There had been a record three explosive cauldrons that week, and he had already succeeded in making two first years and even a second year cry.

As he tidied away the last of the stray potions ingredients from his classroom that Friday evening, listening to the rain bouncing off the small windows, he wondered why he had ever become a teacher at all.

A quiet knock on the heavy oak door brought him from his thoughts.

"Enter."

He glanced up just in time to see a little bespectacled face appear around the door.

Severus Snape sighed. This was all he needed – weekends were the one time he was largely free from students, or at least those from the other houses.

"Mr Potter. Are you lost?"

"No sir. I'm sorry to disturb you, sir. I was just... wondering..." the boy began.

Snape gave him a longer look. The boy was standing there with 'A Young Wizard's Guide to Potions' tucked under one arm, his first homework assignment hanging out from between the pages.

"If you are here with a complaint about your grade, let me assure you that this will be a very short conversation, Potter," he growled.

"It's not that, sir. I... actually got a better grade than I thought I might. But I think I could've done better, and there were just some comments you wrote in the margins that I wasn't sure about," the boy told him, somewhat nervously.

"Very well," Snape said, waving him into the room. "Don't stand there dawdling."

The little whelp actually smiled at him then, moving across the classroom to sit at one of the benches.

"I will say, Potter, that for a first attempt your work was... adequate," the professor said, sitting beside him. "Your handwriting was, for the most part, questionable. But your content was well balanced, and if anything, it felt as though you were holding back somewhat."

The boy peered up at him, huge emerald eyes behind round glasses.

Those eyes...

"Am I wrong, Potter?"

"No sir," the boy said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Might I ask why? One should always strive to produce their very best work," the potions master told him.

"I know, sir. It's just... at my old school, I wasn't s'posed to do better than my cousin Dudley," Harry told him.

Snape rose an eyebrow. "What sort of ridiculous rule is that? Some sort of muggle rubbish?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders, shifting uncomfortably.

"I'll do my best next time sir, I promise," he said – and it was clear he wasn't comfortable in pursuing Snape's line of questioning any further.

"See to it that you do," was all the professor said in response.

"As for my handwriting... I'm not all that good with a quill yet. They didn't have those in Little Whinging," Harry told him, after a moment's silence.

"A skill which you will no doubt acquire with time," Snape said. "Now show me which of these notes has confused you?"

"This one sir," Harry said, pointing at one of the comments the teacher had made on his essay.

"Hmm. You simply didn't provide a clear enough explanation as to how these four ingredients react within the potion in order to become effective, and what you would need to look out for in order to ensure that it has," he explained. "You should consider how they react when added into the potion – the colour it becomes, the smell it omits and so on..."

He had become so wrapped up in his explanation that it took him a moment to realise Potter had pulled out a quill and was furiously writing down everything he was saying.

Professor Snape paused, reaching across to adjust the boy's hand on the pen.

"Position your fingers in this manner, and soften your grip. You will find it makes for better penmanship," he said, in sotto voce.

Harry began to write again, more carefully this time, and the results were instantaneous.

The brat smiled again. "Thank you sir."

"You are welcome. Now back to the reactivity of these four ingredients..."

OOOOOOO

The professor spent the next hour going over the finer points of his essay with him, and Harry learned a lot from talking it through with him.

The potions master certainly wasn't the warm, protective figure he had dreamed about, but there was something comforting about his presence, and his demeanour had softened slightly since that first lesson earlier in the week.

Harry wasn't sure exactly what it was that as drawing him to the man. All of his friends hated him, and Neville Longbottom was particularly terrified. And while he did find potions mildly interesting, he had to admit he was finding this whole topic a little boring.

But the professor had been in his dreams – or at least some version of him had – and that had to mean something, didn't it? Harry wanted to find out what. He wanted to get closer to the dark man.

Despite the little hiccup during his first class, Harry thought the professor had been very kind. He'd given him a hint to help with the homework assignment, and now he'd given up his own time to help him out again. And he'd taught him how to properly hold a quill.

He'd been patient too, Harry thought, as he finished his last sentence. Not many adults had been patient with him before. Except maybe Hagrid, if he could even count as an adult at all.

"I think that's quite enough for one day, Potter. Any longer and you'll miss dinner," Snape said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

The boy nodded, closing his book. "Thank you sir, it was awfully kind of you to help me. I'll do much better on my next assignment, you'll see."

"Hmm. I shall await that day with baited breath," the professor drawled.

Harry smiled. His teacher was sort of funny, once you got past his stern exterior.

"Go on," Snape encouraged him, gesturing at the door. "And make sure you put something green on your plate tonight, Potter."

Green? Wasn't that the sort of thing your mum was supposed to say to you?

Seeing the boy's curious look, Snape made a point of ushering him towards the door. "Sugar is innately bad for you, and rots your teeth. Furthermore, it has a nasty habit of causing children like yourself to lose concentration in my classroom. Fruits and vegetables provide a slow release of energy and are generally better for you. See to it that you consume some."

"Yes, sir! Thanks again! Have a great weekend!" Harry called, as he trotted off in the direction of the Great Hall, smirking as he went.

It almost sounded like the Professor cared.

OOOOOOO