Aspen in the Sunlight - A Year Like None Other

Since Harry had yet to so much as touch his first cup, he stared at the headmaster rather incredulously.

"Sherbet lemon, then?"

"No," he sighed, tired of the old man's games. What did he think, that Harry was still a child to mollify with sweets? Actually, Harry reflected, refusing to read that letter hadn't been the height of maturity, and complaining about going to his aunt's deathbed was even more infantile, even if there wasn't the whole issue of his mother's blood staring him in the face. He had been acting like a child, and he was determined to cut it out.

"So I'm off to Surrey, then?" he accepted, launching right into the next logical issue. "I suppose the Order will go on guard duty again, round the clock watches to keep me safe?"

When Dumbledore nodded, Harry conceded. "All right, then. Does the Hogwarts Express run in October, or should I floo to Mrs Figg's house?"

"Floo, I should think, Headmaster," Snape put in. "But not alone. This isn't like the summer when he stayed mainly in and around the house. The aunt's in hospital; Mr Potter will have to put a fair amount of time in there, and in transit. Given that he'll stray far out of bounds of the wards, it's not enough to merely have invisible Order members guarding him."

" He happens to be sitting right here," Harry interrupted. "Don't talk about me like I'm not!"

Snape spared him a cursory glance. "If you want to continue sitting there and listening, don't interrupt again. Now, as I was saying, Potter needs one of us within reach at all times. A visible presence, the better to deter any attempts on his life."

Harry couldn't help but snort. "I thought you read the letter, Professor. No wizards, remember?" He snapped his mouth shut before he could say something more, like They hate magic worse than poison, and me worse than either one.

"I am in fact literate, Mr Potter," Snape sneered. "I'm well aware of your uncle's terms."

Until that moment, Harry actually hadn't been sure that Snape had read the whole thing. That glance he'd given it had been so swift . . . Harry clenched his fists, wishing he could hit something, groaning a little when the palm of his hand complained. Irritated, he unwound the bandage to inspect the damage. Hmm, not too bad. Didn't even really need Madam Pomfrey, though it was terribly sore.

Still furious, but determined to put a mature face on it, Harry stood up and faced the headmaster. "Sir, before I go, I would like to file a complaint against a member of your faculty."

The figure in the chair beside him stiffened, but Dumbledore remained relaxed. "Yes?"

"Professor Snape had no right to read a letter addressed to me, or to begin reading it out loud to a class full of Death Eaters in training."

"Is this true, Severus? You read this aloud?"

Harry was pretty sure that Snape's flashing glance was on account of hearing his dear Slytherins described that way, not because he thought he'd done anything wrong.

"One word," he drawled in a low, mocking tone. "Just to teach Potter not to deal with his post during class. And as for reading the letter in its entirety? Somebody had to."

"Unfortunately true," Dumbledore agreed, but Harry wasn't about to let it go at that. He might not be able to make capital out of the letter, given all the circumstances, but he was determined not to leave this office until he'd shown Snape that teachers weren't the only ones with power.

"There's another matter," he blithely went on, ignoring Snape's gaze boring into the side of his head. "Because Professor Snape had confiscated an extremely personal letter, and because also I'd had an accident with my quill just as class began, I wasn't able to concentrate on my test. I'd respectfully request that you require him to give me a make-up."

"That certainly seems fair," Dumbledore murmured. "Especially given as you were a bit distraught over your aunt, as well."

"Albus," Snape scathed, "he didn't even know about his aunt until after the test. He didn't care to know."

"Ah, well, there is that. Still, Severus, I'd think you could relax your stringent standards just this once."

"I offered Mr Potter the chance to go to the hospital wing when he so stupidly injured himself."

"No, you didn't," Harry insisted, turning toward the Potions Master and ignoring the way that black gaze seemed to bore into him. "You sarcastically asked if you should owl Madam Pomfrey to reserve my favourite bed. You ridiculed me for being hurt. When Hermione said I was bleeding, you took points , and never even bothered yourself to look and see if it was serious--"

"Which it wasn't."

The more Snape argued, the more determined Harry was to get his way on this. It was a matter of pride, he supposed. Snape regularly smashed his all to pieces, and Harry was powerless to stop it. Just once, he was resolved, he'd make the Potions Master swallow something he didn't particularly care for.

Extending his hand, Harry unfurled his fingers to display his palm to the headmaster. "No, it's not serious, and of course I don't need Madam Pomfrey. But that's not the point. I wasn't in any mental or physical state to take that test, and it's Professor Snape who caused the difficulty. If he hadn't insulted me, I wouldn't have snapped my quill."

"I wouldn't insult you if you'd apply your brains to something other than Quidditch and playing hero, Mr Potter. If you don't like the way I conduct my classes, I suggest you drop them, given that sixth year Potions is in no way required---"

"It is required," Harry interrupted. A N.E.W.T. in Potions was required for the Auror's programme, but Harry wasn't about to go into details, not with Snape. Not even with Dumbledore, really. Dumbledore, who always kept Harry in the dark. He'd only ever told McGonagall about his career plans, and that was only because he had to, if she was going to place him in the classes he needed.

"Enough," the headmaster intervened. "Severus, you will prepare an alternate test for Harry; I don't think that's too much to ask. And Harry, in return you will stay close by your escort at all times, is that agreed? The Order will still be watching, but Severus is right: what we need this time is someone who can grab your arm and Apparate at an instant's notice. Will you do as I ask, Harry?"

"Sure," Harry agreed. What else could he do after Dumbledore had just shoved Snape into a corner for him? The satisfied feeling that engulfed his heart spread until he could feel it tingling in his toes. Yeah, serve the greasy bastard right, that he had to take his time to write a special test just for Harry Potter, that he had to do something he didn't want to do, and do it for Harry Potter, of all people.

"So whom do you suggest, Severus?" Dumbledore mildly inquired.

Snape swallowed back something which looked suspiciously like disgust. At first, Harry thought the Potions Master was just reflecting on the fact that he'd lost a battle to Harry Potter, but when Snape replied, he decided there was something else going on.

"Lupin," Snape replied, grimacing. "If he's willing."

"Oh sure, Remus'll be glad to pal around with me," Harry volunteered. "I know he was my professor and all, but we're actually pretty good mates."

"We're not talking about that mangy werewolf actually being responsible for your safety, Potter--"

"Why not? He saved my life third year. If not for teaching me that Patronus charm, the Dementors would have got me for sure--"

"Yes, you and Black," Snape grated.

"Well, he was innocent, you know! I know you know!"

Snape made a visible effort to get the conversation back on track. "We're talking about Polyjuice Potion, Potter. I'll look like Lupin, but I'll be the one with you at all times. At all times, is that clear?"