A new beginning

Nicolas Flamel

"What did Snape want?" asked Hermione the moment the three of them reunited in their common room.

Harry had really hoped his friends were asleep by the time he made it back so that he did not have to talk to anyone. But he was not so lucky. So far, he had managed to stay away from the light emanating from the fireplace in case Hermione or Ron stared at him too closely. He did not want them to be able to tell he had been crying.

"He wanted," stalled Harry. He needed to come up with something quick. But what. "He wanted me to finish some lines I started the other night during detention." Yeah, that sounded good.

"He could not let you feel good about defeating a troll, could he?" intervened Ron, rolling his eyes at the mere thought of the despicable man.

"Did you see what did it then?" asked Hermione before Harry had time to answer Ron.

"See what?" Ron and Harry asked almost at the same time, turning with confused looks on their faces.

"His leg!" Hermione was slightly exasperated. "Ugh! Do you both never pay attention?" At this Ron turned to look at Harry, raising his shoulders just slightly. "Snape was limping." She looked at both boys, waiting to see if they put it together. "There were traces of blood on his shoe, you must have seen it, Harry, as you walked down to his office."

But Harry had not. Not even while he was...preoccupied with something else. He had not noticed any limping, nor blood. But then again. He had not seen much for quite some while because of all the blubbering he had done. Just thinking about it, made his ears turn red.

"No sorry," said Harry, looking away from his two other friends, trying to keep them from noticing his hot face. "I didn't notice"

"No I suppose not" was all that Hermione answered, but she continued to study Harry as he tried to hide his face.

....

He had done it. He had smacked Potter. And not just a smack or two, a full smacking. He had been quite angry. The idiotic child! He could have gotten himself killed. All because he could not follow simple instructions. All students were meant to go to their common rooms. But no. Potter and Weasley had to put themselves in the middle of it. No regard for their lives.

Snape was pacing back and forth in his parlour. Trying to decipher what exactly he was feeling. Although he was still a bit angry at the child, that was not the main feeling he was experiencing. He had expected some sort of thrill at having finally exacted his vengeance. But he was less than thrilled. It was almost as though he felt guilty. Sad in a way.

He had no reason whatsoever to feel guilty. The only one feeling guilty should be Potter. He was the one that had caused the events of the latter part of the evening. Not him. And yet. He was. Perhaps his warning should have been sterner, more menacing in order to deter Potter from diving headfirst into danger. He should have made him write lines about the consequences his actions would bring.

And the crying. It was not the first time he had seen Potter in tears, and yet this time, he felt urged to really comfort the child. Of course, he had immediately pushed the ridiculous feeling aside. He had to be unwavering and stern if he wanted to keep the child alive. Lily would disapprove of the coldness between her child and him, but he could not let himself feel bad about delivering a punishment. It was well deserved. Warnings were given. Just as he told Potter, there was nothing more to be discussed.

....

Harry laid in bed. Eyes wide open, staring at the shadowed ceiling. The moment he laid down, sleep had been replaced by treacherous thoughts. Thoughts about this new 'agreement' with Snape. If he was completely honest, he felt crazy for even considering it could turn out to be not as bad as he thought. Not that he had enjoyed his last meeting with Snape because who could. But, the man had shown him kindness. From time to time. Clearly, not the punishment because that had not been kind at all, but afterward.