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ON THE LAST DAY OF THE HOLIDAYS, Este was making her way down the stairs when she caught a glimpse of the black-coak figure brushing past her and down into the kitchens. "Merlin, I must be hallucinating," Este said nervously to her Grandmother's portrait. "Surely it wasn't that slimy git Snape?"
Grandmother looked at her, slightly disappointed at her presence, "Oh you aren't hallucinating, dear girl. That was Snape. Pity he was a halfbreed... Quite a smart lad."
Este rolled her eyes and followed Snape down to the Kitchen, she pushed open the kitchen door a minute or two later to find Sirius and Snape both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike. A letter lay open on the table in front of Sirius. "Oh, hey, Kiddo!" Sirius greeted her merrily, perking up.
Este ignored him and turned to Snape, "What are you doing here?"
"Manners, Black," Snape sneered coldly.
"Fuck off, you're in my house. Why. Are. You. Here."
Snape scoffed and before he could reply, the door opened and Harry walked in, "Er..."
That's why Snape was here.
Snape looked around at him, his face framed between curtains of greasy black hair. "Sit down, Potter."
"You know," said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my daughter's house, you see."
An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table. Este stayed inside the room. edging around the corner. "I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, "but Black —"
"I'm his godfather," said Sirius, louder than ever. "I am here on Dumbledore's orders," said Snape, whose voice, by contrast, was becoming more and more quietly waspish, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel . . . involved."
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Sirius, letting his chair fall back onto all four legs with a loud bang.
"Merely that I am sure you must feel — ah — frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful," Snape laid a delicate stress on the word, "for the Order." It was Sirius's turn to flush. Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to Harry. "The headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."
"Study what?" said Harry blankly.
Snape's sneer became more pronounced. "Occlumency, Potter. The magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."
