The baker and the potion master

Chapter seven: boiling over

Pants at baking?" Ron exploded once they had exited Diagon Alley into Muggle London. "Pants at baking! You're lucky that 'mione is your Secret Keeper about you being a baker, mate. You should rub it in that pompous bat's face that you're the best baker in all the Wizarding World."

"I've told you to be respectful towards Severus," Harry said through clenched teeth. He glared at Ron, his arms crossed. "And you know why I don't tell anyone about my bakery. They'd never take it seriously and people would swarm it in one day."

"Fine. Yeah, sure everyone would be barmy about the shop, but still. Why not brag about it to the greasy git, mate?" Ron threw his arms wide. "If I were you, I'd shove it in his hook-nosed face. He'd deserve it, you know."

"His name is Severus," Harry said icily.

"That bastard may be a genius at Potions, but could he bake a Victorian Sponge like you?" Ron jabbed his hands into the air, windmilling his arms as he paced in front of Harry. "I know he couldn't bake a sticky toffee pudding worth eating. He ridiculed your potions, always claimed that you couldn't make anything. That'd show the pompous prat."

"His name is Severus," Harry repeated, his eyes narrowed.

"Another thing!" Ron began. He stopped, blinking owlishly at Harry. "What?"

"I said his name is Severus."

"Since when are you two on a first-name basis?" Ron crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed. "You've always called him Snape. What changed?"

"It's his name." Harry stalked past Ron, heading towards the Apparation point. He said, glancing over his shoulder, "I want to be respectful."

"Oh!" Ron called after him. "You mean by calling him sir a million times, yeah? I remember when we were in school and you would use that as a taunt. Now? You can't call him it enough. What happened to telling the git that he doesn't have to call you sir, anyway? Come on, mate. Why call him by his first name now after all these years?"

Heat rose in Harry's cheeks. He had come to think of Severus by his first name as his perspective of and affection for the man had changed. Snape was the angry and spiteful teacher that Harry had loathed. He was the unhappy spy. Snape was the bitter, petty man trapped in a terrible situation with no choice or hope.

That man no longer existed. Severus had been set free.

Harry had first come to know Severus through the potions book in his sixth year. He had been witty, intelligent, and mysterious. That Severus had been honest in his loneliness – not so much by what he had scrawled in the margins, but for what he hadn't. Harry understood that the book had been Severus' only companion that year.

The same way it had been for Harry.

Severus was who he saw in the memories, too. He was vulnerable, awkward, lonely, and bitter, yes, but also passionate, graceful, beautiful, and full of love. He had become to Harry a full, well-rounded person with real fears, hopes, and pain. Severus had revealed himself to be brave and loving even if he hid it under a veneer of petty malice. He was the man that had dedicated his life to defeating the Dark Lord after seeking to atone for a mistake in his youth. He was flawed, complicated, and lovely.

Severus and Snape were the same person and yet in Harry's mind, they were two distinct people. Harry had grown and matured, knowing that he was no longer that precocious child, either. They had both changed.

There was no way to explain that to Ron. Not without exposing how he really felt about Severus.

"It's his name," Harry stated, his voice meek to his ears. "I'm not a schoolboy anymore."