Part XX

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit tribute to the works of JK Rowling, who created and, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and settings elaborated herein.

All my gratitude to my betas DementedLeaf and Xoxphoenix and to my previewers Duj and Morgaine_Dulac. Many thanks to all my kind readers and reviewers.

Special mention and thanks to Excessivelyperky for her useful info about chemistry.

Part XX

Albus Severus entered the classroom in a rush and went straight over to the portrait.

"Good… morning…," he gasped, almost strangling himself in the effort of inhaling and speaking at the same time.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. Better breathe if you want to live," Snape advised him.

"Thank you, sir," the boy replied, panting, then smiled his nice smile. "I've come here immediately after breakfast… I should be going to Herbology now, but this is more important."

He paused to take a deep intake of air, keeping a hand pressed on his chest; then he extracted a little roll of parchment, accurately sealed, from his pocket. Snape raised his brows in polite surprise.

"My sister sends this to you," Albus Severus explained and broke the seal; then he stopped as if he had been hit by a sudden thought and lifted his eyes to the portrait with a hint of panic.

"You will tell her that I didn't read it, won't you?" he asked.

Snape couldn't help but give a twisted smile. Little Lily Potter was definitely the boss in her family. In the meantime, Albus Severus unwrapped and flattened the roll, positioning it in the fax machine. Then he clicked the start button and kept his eyes firmly closed until the ironical voice of his professor called him.

"Relax, Mr. Potter. I have it."

The boy sighed in relief, then threw the original letter in the fire under a cauldron.

"See you later, Professor," he declared. "Sorry, I must go now."

Snape didn't answer. He was watching the letter with wide eyes. The text was written in bright colours with a large, round handwriting. Little rabbits, butterflies and flowers danced merrily around the sentences. He wrinkled his nose in comical disconcertment before beginning to read.

Dear Professor Snape,

I hope you still remember me. The feast was wonderful, and I am very glad I could visit Hogwarts and see my brothers. I am also glad I could meet you. I think you are very nice and kind, so I would like to ask you if you could come to visit us.

Will you? I would be very happy. Please let me know.

Yours sincerely,

Lily Potter

Snape's lips curled in an incredulous smile. Such an impertinent little one! Why was that child so fond of him? When had she decided that he was worth her affection? He read the letter again, feeling an unusual warmth diffuse in his fibres. Then, in a space miraculously left free from her drawings, he saw the addendum.

P.S.: You can tell Al about my invitation, but please don't say anything to James. He doesn't like you. I told him he is stupid.

Snape's face darkened. His fist hit the table with a sharp sound, and the merry drawings reacted with incongruous joy at the vibration. He watched them frolic, and the curl on his lips became bitter. With a sudden decision, he crushed the parchment; then he got up and turned to throw it in the flames of his painted fireplace. But his arm stopped at the last moment.

He hesitated, considering the crumpled ball in his hand; then he sat again, put it on the table and lost himself in meditation. Slowly, as if guided by an independent will, his hands took the message and reopened it. The little drawings had become grey and still. He frowned and smoothed the many wrinkles of the parchment until the little figures turned brilliant and lively again and resumed their dances. He kept contemplating them for some moments more, then buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply.

*************

"Good morning, sir."

The second year students collectively greeted their teacher, then entered the room in respectful silence.

Too respectful, Snape thought with a frown. The right adjective was wary. Or perhaps, in the case of the Gryffindors, resentful.

He inclined his head to adjust his two-dimensional eyes and have a better vision of the children. Though last time the Gryffindors had triumphantly led the group, this time the golden and red students seemed to have forgot their characteristic boldness and followed their schoolmates quietly. Head down, James Potter walked in, staring at the floor. Near to him, Arthur Macmillan looked nervously around, chewing his lower lip in anxiety.

Snape watched the students take their places. Silence filled the room. It was time to see if his plan would work. Apologise to the little brat? That was out of question. But perhaps the solution he had thought of would provide an acceptable arrangement to both parties. He laced his fingers together and began to speak quietly.

"Potions is a subject which requires a combination of skills: knowledge, rational thinking, patience, curiosity, stubbornness and dexterity… but also intuitiveness and a great dose of creativity. You have been selected amongst your companions because you have demonstrated to possess these talents in greater amount. Now it's time to explore them in depth. I have prepared a very special experiment today, a test that will show you where your abilities lie. Are you intuitive or rational? Creative or methodical? Today you will find out because today we will play with forces."

The class didn't show any enthusiasm. Only the Slytherins seemed interested. The look that Jennifer Avery cast on the Gryffindors – and on James in particular – was very eloquent. You are doomed, her eyes said.

"There are many ways to manipulate a potion or to change it into something different. Every decent potioneer knows the system to increase the effects of a concoction or to speed its preparation. So, today we will prepare samples using different reagents or catalysts. Now, who can tell me what a reagent is?"

Jennifer Avery immediately lifted her hand. Another Granger! Snape thought. James was still keeping his head down and showed no interest, though Arthur kept nudging him anxiously. This will be tough, the portrait considered.

"Yes, Miss Avery?" Snape finally nodded when it became obvious that nobody else dared reply.

"A reagent is a substance taking part in a chemical reaction, especially one used to detect, measure or prepare another substance."

The look of pride in the girl's eyes once more reminded him unpleasantly of Hermione Granger. But the girl had answered correctly, and he rewarded her as she expected.

"Excellent. Five points to Slytherin."

Arthur clenched his fists and cast James a clearly disappointed glance. Jennifer turned her head with a victorious smile, and her housemates smirked in pride while Snape continued his lecture.

"So, a reagent is, for instance, that simple ingredient that, added at the right time and at the proper conditions in a blend of otherwise inert ingredients, makes them react. But a reagent can also be used to confirm or quantify the presence of another substance. Every expert potioneer knows how to separate the many components of a concoction in order to classify the different elements."

Snape watched the class. Till now, the interest raised was scarce, especially from the one he had hoped to lure.

"Now, who can tell me what a catalyst is?"

Again, Arthur looked hopefully at James, who crossed his arms with a sulky expression. And again, Jennifer's hand jerked up.

"It seems that everybody except Miss Avery has unfairly earned a reputation here," Snape growled, and finally, he could see James react. The boy looked at the girl with a challenging glare.

Good! Snape thought. But after that defying look, James turned indifferent again, to Arthur's great desperation, and the portrait was forced to ask the girl.

"Yes, Miss Avery?"

"A catalyst is a substance that can increase or decrease the rate of a chemical reaction without undergoing any change."

The girl had declaimed the explanation in one go, and again, Snape rewarded her with five points. Arthur was positively angry now and shot reproachful glances at James, who, on the contrary, seemed totally apathetic.

"So," Snape continued, watching the class, "a catalyst increases or slows down a reaction without being consumed by the reaction itself. You wonder what the benefit of slowing down a reaction could be? Just imagine that you had spoiled your concoction and that it could explode in your face unless you find the way to stop or to delay the reaction… Ah, I see that Mr. Potter understands the importance of this information."

James had unconsciously tightened his fists. His eyes gleamed for a moment, and then he returned to his apathy. The portrait sighed inwardly.

"I believe we can begin our experiment," he declared, and the children exchanged worried glances, understanding that the moment of the ordeal had arrived. Snape opened his book.

"In the next hour, we will learn something more about reagents and catalysts by preparing samples. Then we will check the results, and every successful sample will be rewarded with five points."

*************

Half an hour after, the class was busy with brewing. The children had been instructed to prepare several batches of different bases and then invited to choose a reagent in an assortment of possible additions. The only help they had received from their teacher was a list of ingredients to avoid and some suggestions about fire temperatures. For the rest, they had been left free to experiment, and they were now occupied in finding uses and characteristics of the components they had selected, so to create something that could hopefully gain points for their House. It seemed as if they were inside a gigantic kitchen, and the "apprentice cooks" were getting more and more excited, each one trying carefully to conceal their own "recipe" from the others. As he had done with the first years, Snape didn't intervene. He retreated in his frame and waited patiently while the noise increased.

An hour later, the apprentices were contemplating the results of their efforts with exultant or depressed faces. Some students were still fighting with their creations but the majority were waiting for Snape's verdict. Using the little pictures on the columns, the wizard made a tour of the cauldrons and checked, commented, rewarded or scolded. Then he went back to his frame. It was time for the hook he had planned.

"So far, you have simply tested ingredients," he declared and paused intentionally. "Now, to make the lesson even more interesting – and rewarding – I look for volunteers for a very particular experiment. I will grant a bonus of twenty-five points to those who successfully complete this test."

An excited whisper ran through the class but it was immediately silenced when Snape added quietly with a meaningful smile, "Let me warn you that I will also subtract these points in the case of failure."

"So!" His voice became dangerously sweet. "Anyone daring enough to try?"

Arthur Macmillan immediately turned to watch James with a hopeful look, but the boy shook his head in refusal. On the other side of the room, Jennifer Avery hesitated only a second; then she stepped out and went proudly under the portrait. At that sight, Arthur lost the small control he still possessed. Impetuously, he got up and joined the girl, a determined expression on his round face.

"Mr. Macmillan! I'm impressed!" Snape's teasing tone sounded hateful even to his own ears. "Finally, a Gryffindor who has guts. But perhaps it's only desperation… Are you sure you want to try?"

Arthur nodded, though his unhappy expression betrayed his apprehension.

"Excellent!" Snape commented, but before he could add another word, James suddenly got up. In three steps, he reached his friend and pushed him aside.

"If you don't mind, Professor," he said calmly, "I think it's up to me."

Finally! Though pleased for the success of his ruse, Snape shrugged with calculated indifference and saw James darken in response. A bitter feeling invaded his heart. Once more, he was brilliantly playing his nasty role, deceiving those who, on the contrary, he was trying to help. Exactly as it had happened with Harry Potter, who had spent seven years hating his professor… and who had finally come to an understanding when it was too late.

The portrait checked his feelings and replied with a sneer, "Not exactly correct behaviour, Mr. Potter, but I suppose we cannot expect proper manners from you."

He sighed theatrically. "Any objection, Mr. Macmillan?"

Arthur, who had reddened with joy, shook his head to express both his enthusiasm and his approval.

"Then let's begin," Snape commanded.

*************

The students listened attentively while Snape instructed the volunteers. His directions were decidedly short, and after a few moments, the portrait turned to the class.

"As I was saying, so far, we have only tested ingredients. But now with the help of Miss Avery and Mr. Potter, we will see how a potion can be altered into something different. We will use the Draught of Relaxation – the same potion you prepared in your first lesson – and we will modify it through two different actions: we will either slow its force and obtain a liniment for muscular pains or increase its relaxing power and create a remedy for insomnia."

The portrait paused.

"Where is the difficulty, you will ask? Well, using a catalyst to modify a potion requires a particular sensitivity. And as this is an experiment, Miss Avery and Mr. Potter will be left alone to decide timings and temperatures. They will be allowed to count only on their previous experience and on their intuition."

Some of the children gasped and Snape scowled.

"We will offer the quiet energy of the narwhal's horn to Miss Avery's Slytherin determination," he declared with his hateful smile, "and we will reward the Gryffindor boldness with the aggressive power of the dragon's blood."

He turned to James, a twisted smile still dancing on his lips. "Let me warn you to be particularly cautious with this ingredient, Potter. Its reaction can be extremely… rude."

James frowned and Snape added sharply, "The more the danger, the more the honour. Let's be chivalrous, Potter. We wouldn't like a nice girl to lose her nose or her ears, would we?"

His tone clearly conveyed that such concern didn't include James' health. The boy looked curiously at his teacher and didn't reply.

*************

The girl displayed all her competence and precision in chopping and weighing her ingredients. Right in front of her, the boy counteracted with equally precise movements. But while Jennifer was perhaps too careful, James was rapid and definitely instinctive in his choices.

From his frame, Snape watched him select and deftly prepare his concoction. Memories of a similar contest flooded his mind, and he closed his eyes, trying to exclude that beautiful spring morning so far back in time in which Slughorn had challenged him and Lily with that same experiment.

Both potions seemed to progress at the same speed, and little by little, the other children moved closer in order to observe their advancement, every House eager to support its favourite champion.

It was only at the end that the unexpected happened. Jennifer had just raised the fire and her potion was boiling happily. In a few seconds, the colour turned deep purple, and a disgusting smell invaded the room.

"Too bad, Miss Avery," Snape commented dryly, letting disappointment pervade his tone. "It seems that you have been too hasty."

The girl reddened and paled and reddened again, anxiously stirring the liquid with her ladle. James tightened his lips and continued his work without raising his head, indifferent to the excited whispers coming from his companions.

A few moments later, the trial was over. James was the indubitable winner and Jennifer was desperate. For the very first time, she looked like the child she effectively was, vulnerable and ready for tears. A round of applause greeted the champion, who didn't in any way seem to enjoy his victory. Snape crossed his arms.

"Miss Avery, your test has been spoiled by your anxiety. You didn't reflect on the implications. The horn slowed the boiling, but this change was unusual for you, so you have raised the temperature of your fire, thus invalidating the action of the catalyst. I suppose this means you have a methodical mind that doesn't allow exceptions to rules."

"Mr. Potter." Snape seemed to fight against himself. "Your result is…," again, he seemed to search for an adjective, "…good. You have grasped the idea. Your catalyst has speeded up the preparation, yet you have kept the fire at the right temperature. Instinctive, I would say."

A pause followed. "But also definitely clever," he finally concluded. The boy raised his head with a bizarre expression.

"Twenty-five points to Gryffindor," Snape announced, and part of the class exploded with joy.

"And twenty-five points from Slytherin," Snape added, restoring the calm with the tone of his voice. Fifty points of advantage to the House of his old enemies! And he had been the one to award the prize! It was part of his plan but it hurt… Merlin, how it hurt!

The Slytherins lowered their eyes, and Jennifer stood still, tears running down on her cheeks. Then James spoke.

"I don't want these points. This was only a test, and we can win the Cup without them."

Arthur gasped in astonishment. Jennifer wiped a tear, an incredulous look in her eyes… The whole class was shocked. For the first time, Snape felt strangely respectful.

"Though expressed with your characteristic boldness, this is a very generous and unexpected proposal, Mr. Potter. Should I take back my offer? Are you sure?"

No, no! The eyes of the Gryffindors pleaded, but James nodded firmly.

"Well, then let me reward you and Mr. Macmillan with five points each, respectively, for his courage and for your chivalry," Snape replied. He turned to the girl. "Miss Avery?"

Jennifer rubbed her eyes one last time. She sniffled and looked uncertainly at her adversary.

"Thank you, Potter," she whispered. Another round of applause started, and this time, the Slytherins also joined in.

Then order was restored, the children cleaned their tools, and in a little while, the class was ready to leave.

The moment had come. The students had already formed a queue to exit when Snape called, "A word, Mr. Potter."

Arthur froze in panic, and the other children watched both the portrait and James with expressions going from curiosity to fear. But the boy seemed to have expected that request. Calmly, he went back under the painting and waited for his schoolmates to leave.

*************

The boy and the portrait stared at each other. Finally, Snape opened the skirmish with an unexpectedly quiet voice.

"Perhaps now you will explain to me why you have refused your prize."

James hesitated; then he replied bravely, "Do you want the truth, sir?"

"Of course, Potter."

The boy hardened his features. "Because I believe you have cheated," he declared, crossing his arms with a challenging glare.

How similar to his grandmother James looked now! Snape stiffened, disguising his thoughts under his usual cold tone.

"That is a serious accusation, Mr. Potter. What evidence do you offer to support such a theory?"

"A… a memory, sir."

"A memory?" The portrait was baffled.

Suddenly, James seemed to realise the danger implicit in his situation. Yet he couldn't draw back his words, so he replied, "Yes, a memory, a story that my grandmother once told me. Something about an experiment similar to this, that she had to undergo in her class. But the test had been arranged, so to make her win in any case."

Ah! So, Lily, too, had kept a memory of Slughorn's fixed contest! That time, their old professor had challenged both his favourite pupils but he had intended only one to win and that one was Lily. It was their second year, and though Sorted into different Houses, she was still Snape's best friend. So, her reaction at discovering the truth had been indignant. Slughorn had blushed in confusion, trying to explain that it had been only a joke. But young Severus Snape, so passionately defended in front of a whole class – even better, in front of James Potter senior – had felt so incredibly happy!

A sweet emotion tightened his heart again at the thought, and words escaped his lips before he could stop them.

"Your grandmother didn't need any help. She was extraordinarily brilliant."

James darkened. "So, it's true."

Snape recovered his usual severe timbre.

"If you refer to the memory your grandmother told you, yes, it's true. I was her antagonist that day. Professor Slughorn liked your grandmother – who didn't? – and wanted her to win. But we both managed to complete our potions successfully."

"And today? Who was supposed to win, Professor?"

The question sounded insolent, but Snape didn't react at the provocation in those words. He laced his fingers and leant back in his chair, speaking calmly.

"You have seen it with your own eyes, Potter. Both you and Miss Avery prepared the potions by yourselves, and there was no trick in that. In spite of my warnings, there was no difference in those ingredients, only in the method, and you were the one who chose the correct procedure."

Which was the truth, but Snape had obviously omitted to say that he had based his plan on Jennifer's psychology… and thankfully he had guessed right. The portrait paused.

"I suppose you thought I was favouring Miss Avery," he added. After a slight hesitation, the boy shook his head.

"No, I knew it was me," he replied uncomfortably. "But I can't understand why."

Surprised, Snape watched the boy. "This makes your renunciation even more worthwhile. Given the situation, you would have been largely justified to grab every possible advantage."

James shrugged. "It would have been a worthless victory."

The portrait inclined his head in a little bow, a bizarre expression on his features.

"Truly Gryffindor! This sentiment does you credit, Potter. But you can relax. What I offered today was simply a chance. I am glad you were the one who took it."

He crossed his arms. "You had been treated unjustly on a previous occasion, so a rehabilitation, better, a reward, was essential."

The boy stiffened, an incredulous look in his eyes.

"A reward? I don't understand. I thought that you…," he gulped and trailed off under Snape's piercing gaze.

"That's the point, Potter," the wizard replied. "You thought."

Silence fell while James considered the portrait with a suspicious expression. Finally, he spoke again.

"Last time… did you charm that suit of armour on purpose?"

"The suits of armour were intended to help, not to harm. I never had the intention of hurting you."

Which again wasn't totally true, as Snape knew well. He had hoped that the boy would put himself in a dead end. He had hoped to feel satisfaction. He had hoped to feel joy. His revenge. A heap of ashes.

But he couldn't admit all his faults. Not in that moment. Not on that day. And not in front of that boy. No matter what Albus Severus might have said, speaking to James wasn't like speaking to his younger brother; therefore, Snape concluded briefly, "Our enemies are not always who we think they are."

Then he added bitterly, as if speaking to himself, "And both your father and I have learned this truth at our own expenses…"

James kept considering the portrait with a curious expression: that odd, unexpected calm from his otherwise frightening teacher was unbalancing to him. But it was also an inviting occasion. So, he hazarded a new question.

"My father… you didn't like him, did you?"

"Absolutely not." Snape curled his lips in a cold smile, remembering his words to Dumbledore. "I found him mediocre, arrogant, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent…"

Disconcerted at that enunciation, James objected, "But… but Dad told us that you sacrificed your life to protect him."

"And he told you the truth."

"So, why did you help him if you didn't like him?" The questions were growing more and more personal, but James didn't seem to notice in his anxiety to know.

Snape closed his eyes. So many explanations had flooded his mind! Because I loved your grandmother. Because I was the cause of her death. Because I swore to protect her child. Because I hoped to obtain her forgiveness. Because I needed to redeem myself. Because I had no other reason to live.

Painful. It was simply painful to recall all his actions and faults again and justify his reasons to that very boy. And yet, that boy and his family were so strictly intertwined with Snape's life! Perhaps he had the right to know… Or perhaps he had not. The wizard resolved to be as brief as possible.

"Because Lily Evans was my best friend and Harry Potter was her son."

As if he had expected that answer, James frowned and replied impulsively, "But you never told my dad anything. How did you expect him to trust you?"

Snape felt irritation bubble and replied coldly, "He wasn't supposed to know. Unfortunately, I hadn't a choice. You forget we were in a war. I had to disguise my actions. And your father never did anything to ease my task, stubborn and reckless as he was."

"If you treated him the way you are treating me, it's no wonder." James' voice trembled with resentment. "Nobody likes to be harassed, even if it is for their own good!"

Snape's lips curled in a cruel smile.

"That's exactly what your revered grandfather used to do to me. And he didn't do it for my own good but only to amuse himself. Yet I survived to eventually help his son."

"I don't believe you! My grandfather wasn't as mean as you say! My dad wouldn't have named me after him! The truth is that you hated him, so you tried to get revenge. And now you hate me because I have the same name."

He stiffened, waiting for the explosion he had deliberately stirred, but the portrait remained surprisingly calm.

"I won't deny that I disliked your grandfather," Snape replied with immense composure. "And he returned the feeling with great eagerness, making my days at Hogwarts a living hell. However, hateful as he was, your grandfather must have had some good quality – though I can't imagine which – because your grandmother chose him, not me."

He paused, struggling against the many emotions clashing in his heart. Then his composure unexpectedly broke.

"I'm only a portrait, Potter. But before being paint layered on a canvas, I was a man made of flesh and blood. What makes you think that I didn't have feelings? My job? My House? My role as a spy? Or simply the fact that now I am dead?"

Baffled by that sudden outburst, the boy took a step back. Moving randomly on the table, Snape's fingers found a piece of parchment and clenched it firmly while he tried to control his voice and his reactions.

"I detest your name, Potter," he declared harshly, "and I hate the memories it brings. But I don't hate you."

He released the crushed parchment. "Do you need proof? Let's see if I can spare you a confession."

For a moment, James didn't understand; then he widened his eyes.

"You know about—?"

"Your complaint?" Snape completed ironically. "It wasn't difficult. Who else could be interested in stopping my lessons? However, if you had reflected a bit more instead of letting your Gryffindor impetuosity take over, you would have understood that you were hurting your brother rather than me."

The wizard folded his arms. "We have both wounded somebody dear to us, Potter. I made that mistake a long time before you and paid for it dearly. I hope you'll remember my words and learn at least from my mistakes."

He took a deep breath and his hands clenched again.

"Dismissed!" he ordered with a growl.

James hesitated; then he lowered his head. The movement was too quick, so the wizard couldn't understand whether the spark in the boy's eyes was contempt or anger. Or, even worse, pity.

*************

The room was quiet and empty now, and Snape let his mind wander and weigh again the words that had been said. In spite of his good intentions, the conversation hadn't come out as he had hoped. Dealing with living people could be so frustrating… He buried his face in his hands, admitting his failure.

Then he felt two arms unexpectedly enfold him from behind while a soft cascade of hair gently tickled his cheek. Lily! His heart twisted in blissful emotion. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and abandoned himself to the soothing comfort of her embrace.