The Rise of a Snape

The Parts We Must Play

Life with Snape was oddly... quiet. 

He found himself only crossing paths with Snape in the evening when the man would sit in the old stuffed armchair, eyebrows furrowed and immersed in a book, and also in sporadic times throughout the day.

Snape did not provide much instruction or much of anything- he simply looked at Harry in a stiff and calculating way and would ask him what he had eaten, if he'd finished memorizing facts of his "new life", or if he had finished his homework.

He did not berate him for his cleaning, as Harry thought he would, but then again Snape was not like Aunt Petunia at all in the sense of cleaning- his house was full of moth balls and stacks of dusty books as well as unorganized dishes and cupboards. 

Snape did, although; make it a point to set aside a time throughout the day to tutor him in potions ("You idiot!" and "Yet another ingredient wasted on such incompetence!" were common phrases in these 'lessons' but Snape was a lot calmer than in class.)

Harry had dared asked his reasoning for this sudden 'act of kindness' otherwise known as tutoring, and Snape had responded in clear annoyance that he 'couldn't allow his offspring to be gallivanting around the potions classroom like a self-centered Gryffindor' and that Harry's 'abysmal skill level' would 'sully his reputation' (his reputation of what- being a terrifying and hated teacher? Harry had thought bitterly).

Sometimes he would simply look at Harry as though lost in memory and a melancholy look would appear on his face before he would jerk back to life and disappear in the back room for a time (which Harry came to understand was his "potions lab").

Harry supposed that it could not be any worse than the Dursley household, and found himself pleasantly surprised. 

To be completely honest, he had expected to be bullied and taunted by Snape, but Snape's jabs and sharp words were more directed to fair things such as eating or declining to make his bed.

Snape was currently chewing on a piece of toast with a dark mug beside him of strong black coffee. The clock ticked through the impenetrable silence (funny, it wasn't that much of an uncomfortable one- Harry considered this a tumultuous step in their relationship.) Harry had found out that they both barely ate anything and were both very independent people to say the least.

Strange, Harry thought, we never eat together.

Harry chuckled internally. This whole bloody summer has been strange.

Quite suddenly, a billow of flames materialized over the table scorching both of their toast and part of the table- both Snape and Harry jumped up and drew their wands, but found that rather than a dangerous fire, a brilliant fiery bird was standing on their table.

"Fawkes!" Harry and Snape said simultaneously, Harry in awe and Snape in clear annoyance.

Taking only the time to ruffle his magestic feathers and drop a neatly folded paper onto the table, Fawkes disappeared with another great wave of flame, leaving a great scorch mark on the dining room table.

"Stupid bird," Snape muttered, and then noticing the scorched toast, cursed violently under his breath.

 Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Is that from Dumbled-" he started, looking curiously at the parchment but was cut off.

"Who else do you know that has a pet phoenix?" Snape snapped. He unfolded the letter, waving his wand over it momentarily (perhaps to check for authenticity) before settling in his chair to read it.