Chapter 1
Harry Potter sat at the back of the potions classroom, happily, and yet somewhat discreetly munching on the chicken nuggets he had piled on the silver platter he had in his lap, dunking each and every one in the homemade barbecue sauce that filled his cold cauldron.
As he ate he idly watched his fellow fifth years brewing whatever draught Snape had set them this session, himself having somewhat completely given up on ever doing anything good enough in this class. He watched with a grin as Snape skulked around the class, criticising Gryffindors and complimenting Slytherins at every turn.
“Miss Granger, that potion looks exactly as it should do, ten points from Gryffindor for cheating,”
Harry sighed almost sadly as tears filled Hermione’s eyes, but really he thought she should be used to it now.
“Mr Longbottom, I see your cauldron has somehow caught fire, detention tonight at seven, don’t be late,”
“Yes, sir,” poor Neville muttered, his body shaking as Snape banished his cauldron to who knows where.
“Mister Malfoy, you only burned your eyebrows off this time, twenty points to Slytherin. Mr Goyle, Mr Crabbe, an extra five points each to Slytherin if you escort Mr Malfoy to the hospital wing,”
“Yes, sir,” the three of them chirped as they hopped off their stools and practically ran out of the room, grins on their faces even as they glared at the Gryffindors.
And that is when Snape stopped in front of Harry’s cauldron, raising an eyebrow as he looked at what was clearly not the potion they were meant to be making, and crossing his arms over his chest as he noticed Harry wasn’t doing anything at all.
“Mister Potter… what is that in your cauldron?” Snape said, a hint of disgust in his voice.
“Barbecue sauce,”
Snape tried to hide the surprise in his eyes, but Harry could see it anyway, even if just for a few seconds, “Barbecue sauce, sir,” he corrected Harry.
“There’s no need to call me sir, Professor,” Harry grinned at the man who now glared at him.
“Why is there barbecue sauce in your cauldron?” Snape growled.
“You’re gonna yell at me no matter what I do, so I might as well have some chicken nuggets,” Harry said as if he was explaining something to a young child, smiling brightly as he held the platter up for Snape to see, snagging one of the nuggets and dipping it in the sauce, moaning happily as he chewed the nugget, grinning evilly when he saw the look of temptation flash across Snape’s face.
“Detention, Mr Potter, for eating in class…” Snape said, and Harry could tell by the way the Professor stared hungrily at the platter of nuggets that he wanted to say more, “Give me the nuggets and put your cauldron on my desk for further inspection,”
Harry grinned and handed Snape the platter before picking up his cauldron and carrying it over to the desk at the front of the class, grinning even more when he heard the Professor moan in satisfaction as he followed him.
Harry watched, his grin nearly splitting his face in two and trying to hold in a laugh as he watched the Professor dunk a nugget in the sauce and positively melt as he ate it.
“You may leave the classroom after telling me exactly where you got the chicken nuggets and barbecue sauce from,”
“A magician never tells his secrets, sir,” Harry almost couldn’t hold in his laugh as Snape tried to glare at him but was too busy enjoying Harry’s food.
Harry took some small amount of pity on the man as he saw the desperation in his eyes, “Fine, I will tell you if you give me something in return,”
Snape glared at him again but Harry could also see shock in his eyes, “Don’t be so surprised, Professor, the Hat did want to put me in Slytherin after all,” Harry laughed as Snape’s eyes almost bugged out of their sockets and the students in the classroom all gasped in shock.
“Seriously, is it that surprising? I am a parselmouth after all,”
Snape gulped down another nugget and glared at Harry, though his glare wasn’t as sharp as usual, “What do you want from me?”
“A couple of things, actually. You see, before I came to Hogwarts I was really looking forward to this class. In fact, I read the book a few times before coming here and I knew that it would be a class that I could do well in. I am a really good cook after all, and I love cooking, and I figured that this class would be quite like that. And it is. I know that I can make every potion in every book we have used so far, because I have a bag full of perfect potions I brewed in the Chamber of Secrets… I go there sometimes to get away from everything,
“Anyhow, I would like extra tutoring from you. You see, I know everyone expects me to be an Auror after Hogwarts, but to hell with that. I have had enough fighting to last a lifetime, and I still have to take the old snake-faced bastard down. That is more than enough catching bad guys for me. No, I want to be a Potion Master, and either teach or go into the medical field, or both. I’m not too fussy. But given how you have treated myself and others over the years, at the moment it is very out of my reach,
“So, I want extra tutoring from you, during which, as well as during our regular lessons, I expect you to treat everyone fairly. Now, I know what you are going to say to that, but I also know that every Slytherin and Gryffindor left in this classroom has no desire to become Death Eaters so I can say what I am about to say freely. You’re a spy, I know, and I know that should miniature Death Eaters tell Mouldyshorts that you are treating people as a teacher should be treating their students then the insane bastard might just torture you. That is until you tell him that Dumbledore made you sign a new contract, in which one of the clauses is that you remain fair to all students, and another clause states that you must be kind. You see, I know that this isn’t how you want to teach the students, but I also know that Dumbledore and Voldemort have given their orders and you feel you must follow them. But is anything actually stopping you from doing what you want to do in your classroom? Or is it just the fear of being hurt more?”
Snape looked shocked, more than shocked, and the classroom was so silent that you could hear a pin drop.
“How do you know?”
“First of all, being who I am, I think it unwise to not have some little spies of my own. Second of all, I found my mother’s diaries when I was forced into cleaning the attic of my aunt and uncle’s house, along with nearly everything she ever owned. And since no one tells me anything about her other than that I have her eyes I read them, to feel closer to her. She mentioned you a lot, I mean, you were her best friend for many years. And one of the entries talked about a conversation you both had about what you wanted to do after Hogwarts. She wanted to get her Charms Mastery, and a Potions Mastery, then either teach or go into Healing. And you wanted to get a Potions Mastery, a Defence Mastery, then teach at Hogwarts,
“It also stated how you wanted to be as a teacher, how you both wanted to be. You wanted to be fair to everyone in all houses, of all backgrounds. You wanted to actually do something about the bullies, instead of leaving them unpunished like the teachers were when you were being bullied. You wanted to help abused kids from all backgrounds get out of their abusive homes, no matter what Dumbledore or anyone said because you know what it is like to ask to stay at Hogwarts, or to go anywhere else, but for Dumbledore to send you back regardless. You wanted to take each child under your wing and help them, protect them, care for them in ways that none of the other teachers do,
“You have been protecting us, all of us, for years. I know you have. You have saved my life so many times. Too many times for me to truly believe you hate me, despite what my father did to you, despite how you feel you have to act because of your position in this war. I know it is an act, all of this, to keep yourself and every student in this school as safe as possible. I also know that potions are dangerous, so you have to be at least a little strict or cautious when teaching it. But don’t you think we would all be at least a little safer during this time, if the students knew they could trust you. If they knew you would help them, no matter what. If they knew that they had someone they could actually go to about their problems, whether they be about school things, or things outside of school. If they knew that someone cared to try and get them through this war, that despite all the articles about how crazy I am we all know is happening. I mean, if they believe The Prophet then do they also believe I murdered Cedric Diggory?” Harry swallowed a lump in his throat as he thought about the boy who died right in front of him, the boy he may have liked but didn’t tell from fear.
“I need to keep you all safe,” Snape whispered, fear in his eyes, “No one else cares,”
“I know, sir. Believe me, I know. I have tried going to teachers so many times during the last few years. There are students being bullied and no one is doing anything. I have been bullied, and no one does anything. There are abused students not knowing who they can go to to get actual help because Dumbledore just sends them home saying something along the lines of ‘family can’t hurt family’. We need you, sir. And I know, I know that you are scared of getting us hurt, of getting hurt yourself. I can read it in your eyes, in your every move, in every word you say. But I think we would all rather get hurt knowing without a doubt that someone cared enough to at least try and help us. Knowing that someone cares enough about us that if we end up in battle with adults twice our age, at least, that we at least had someone looking out for us and our needs, and that they did everything they could to protect us and prepare us for this moment. We need you, sir. We need an adult who cares. We need an adult who will help us prepare for what is coming. We need an adult who will look after us, especially the ones who have no one else outside of the school. We need someone who can prepare us properly for life after Hogwarts, because, I hate to say this, we don’t really learn a lot here, do we? Not how to get a job, or even what job options there are, or about money, and taxes, and life in general,
“You can be that person we need. That person to help us, and guide us, and care for us. You are intelligent. You probably know more about the world, especially the horrors in it, more than anyone else in this school. And you can help us get through it. You can help us get through the bullying, the fear, the war, the pain, because you are doing it every day. Yes, not all of us are going to survive this war, not all of us are going to get through it pain free. But if you put aside your fear of getting us all hurt, and help us, guide us, show us that someone fucking cares, at least we will be able to get through it a little easier than we would have if we didn’t have you. From all that I read in my mum’s diary, I know you have a gentle heart in there, somewhere, and that it must hurt you to say and do the things you do. So, how about we help each other make this journey a little less painful? How about we all help each other get through this as whole as possible? How about we all just care, and be our true, whole selves, and maybe, just maybe, we might get through this relatively okay. We can all protect, and help each other,
“And if Dumbledore or Noseless has anything to say, or do, about it, then screw them all. We will protect each other. We will care for each other. We will help each other. But we need an adult in our lives we can trust fully. One who can make sure we are prepared for whatever yearly crap is going to happen this year. One who can give us the truth, and care about us, and our lives. Not just using us as pawns, or having us bow and scrape on our knees. We are told before the Sorting that here we will find our family, our House will be our family. And yet, if that is the case, Gryffindor doesn’t have a parent, and the majority of the House turns on me whenever it suits them. Family doesn’t turn on family. Not a true family anyway. But maybe, with an adult around who actually cares, we can learn, all of us, not just individual Houses, to be a true family. That is, if you want to help us, of course,”
Harry looked Snape in the eyes during his entire speech. He had been thinking about this for a long time. He knew they needed someone, and he wasn’t as wilfully blind as his friends. He knew the Headmaster was using him as a pawn. He knew no one else here truly cared. Otherwise they would do something when students were being bullied, or help abused students, or care enough to tutor students who need extra help, etc.
But after reading those diaries and watching the Professor extra closely all of last year, he knew that Professor Snape was the right one to guide them, to help them. He was a spy, yes. But who better than a spy to help prepare them for what was to come, but also to help them get out of horrid situations. Especially when he so clearly wanted to help, it was in his eyes, every time, but so obviously felt he shouldn’t in fear of getting everyone around him hurt, as well as himself. It took Harry a while of watching to figure everything out, but when you pay attention to someone long enough, even someone as closed off as Snape, you get to know them. It helped that his mothers’ diaries helped him get to know the true Snape a bit before the summer had ended.
Silence ensued for a little while. Everyone else looked between Snape and Harry, almost hopefully, realising that everything Harry had said was true. Snape and Harry not taking their eyes off each other, even as the Professor absently munched on chicken nuggets and barbecue sauce. Harry could see tears welled in the Professor’s eyes, but didn’t comment on them, and Snape didn’t let them fall.
Snape cleared his throat, trying to hold back the tears, “You do indeed have her eyes, and her spirit apparently. How long have you been planning this?”
“I have been working on it for about a year, but when Snakeface returned I knew I needed to do it as soon as possible,” Harry admitted, “Especially given how terrible our Defence lessons are going to be, and how terrible many of them have been in the past,”
Snape nodded.
“I want to see those potions you have made,” Harry summoned his potions bag silently and placed it on the desk, allowing the Professor to open it and look at and smell them all, “I see you noticed how the books don’t tell you how to make the potions more potent and have managed to figure out how to do so yourself. Well done, no student that I know of has been able to do that since I started teaching. Although, after what you have said I believe I understand why. Ten points to Gryffindor. And I will agree to tutoring yourself, and anyone else who wishes for extra tutoring. I also agree to drop my act. I am sorry for how I have treated everyone, I will give you all individual apologies though. And I will work on something that will enable me to tutor everyone in Defence, as well as provide a safe place for anyone to go to should they need help of any kind. I just bloody hope you are correct Mister Potter and that we can all get through this hell,”
“Well, sir, we have more of a chance getting through it together than we do individually. Together, we are stronger. If left to flounder around on our own, however, we can’t hope to succeed, let alone to survive. Hopefully this way we will get through this with as few casualties as possible. Thank you, sir,”
“You’re welcome. Now can you please bloody tell me where you got these nuggets and the sauce?”
Harry grinned, “Well, I got Dobby, the house elf I stole from the Malfoy’s, to go to a Muggle supermarket and get me some nuggets, some turkey dinosaurs, and other popular foods in the Muggle world that I have never had the pleasure of trying myself, and the house elves in the kitchens here cooked them for me to try and although I loved them, I also knew that I could make them better,
“You see, the one thing Petunia actually spent money on for me was cooking and baking lessons by a professional chef, because they wanted good food but couldn’t be arsed to make it themselves so they got me to. And so, using everything I learned I made new versions of everything that doesn’t taste like they have been overly processed. The chef also taught me how to make sauces, so I made the sauce. I became friends with the house elves a long time ago now, and since I know how it feels to be a house elf, as that is what I am to my family essentially, I got into their good books, and they would do anything for me, including letting me cook and bake in the kitchens,
“I have actually cooked a fair amount of the food that ends up in the Great Hall. Not all of it of course, but a few things here and there,”
“Like what?” Pansy Parkinson said, shock clear in her voice.
“Now that would be telling, and as I said previously, a magician never tells his secrets,” Harry winked at her, causing her to blush and him to grin.
“You made these?” Snape asked.
“Yes,” Harry said, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Will you make more?”
“We’ll see, sir. We’ll see,” Harry winked at the Professor, wearing a conspiratorial smile, “Anyhow, I do believe the lesson is over. I shall see you later for my detention. I figure, since you didn’t give me a time, I shall come with Neville at seven and we can all have a lovely, and much needed, chin wag. See ya later, alligator,” And Harry walked out of the room, quietly summoning his bags on the way, letting everyone see his triumphant and hopeful smirk on his face.