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In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me	By : xXxLuckyxXx Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 74965 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. I just play in her world.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: Yay! Snape time. One of my most favorite characters of all fandoms.

Chapter 8 : Classes – September 2, 1993

When Harry got down to the Great Hall the next day, somehow making it out of bed in time, Harry found most of the Slytherin House looking at him critically. Thinking his ball of knotgrass was exposed, Harry checked, but it wasn't. It wasn't until he reached the Gryffindor table did he realize the case of the staring was because of his new wardrobe.

Harry had kept mostly to himself yesterday, so this was the first time, everyone got to see Harry Potter's clothes actually fitting his slender form. It gave him an air of tasteful pride and confidence instead of raggedy sloppiness. The lines of his classier school robes were straight, not being ruined by the bunching of clothe underneath from ill-fit clothes. His shoes were well shined and not in tatters. He even realized he walked more upright, rather than hunched down.

"What on earth are you wearing!" Ron said loudly, one of the only people looking Harry up and down with distaste. "You look like you belong with the Slytherins with that get up."

"Oh, be quiet, Ron," Hermione scolded. "I for one think he looks amazing." Judging by the looks of the other girls, and even some boys, she wasn't the only one.

Harry ignored their looks, still too young to care about that sort of thing. "I decided to treat myself this summer," Harry explained the unasked questions before sitting across from Hermione and next to Neville.

Unfortunately, Harry quickly lost his favor with Hermione when he told her of the special classes he was taking in place of Care and Divination. Ron was just mad that he lost his slacking partner.

"It's like you transfigured into a totally different person, mate," he complained, still shooting dark looks at Harry's well-tailored clothes.

"You can't transfigure personalities," Hermione corrected before turning to Harry. "If you only told me earlier this summer, I could have added those classes too."

Harry couldn't even figure out how Hermione was taking the classes that she already was, let alone adding more onto her plate. Maybe some of her classes are on the weekends too, he thought. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything before," Harry began. "But I thought you already knew, since the instructions were in McGonagall's letter. And besides, I didn't even know if I'd be allowed to. As it is, I have to pay for my own Politic's tutor. The school wouldn't cover it."

Hermione nodded slowly to Harry's explanation. "Oh, I'm not mad," she said, making the boys look at her in disbelief. "Fine. I'm not that mad. But you better save your notes for me. Especially Healing." She added in a mock sternness.

"Only if you save your History notes for me," Harry shot back, and they both broke out in grins.

"You two are insane," Ron said, shaking his head. "Feels like I'm sitting with the Ravenclaws instead of Gryffindors."

Neville nodded mutely.

Harry's classes were an improvement from last year. Harry didn't know if it was because his core had grown or if it was because of his better grasp of theory, but Harry didn't have to cast a spell more than once or twice to master it. If his Charms class, the first class of the year, was any indication he would be having a lot of free time during class as he waited for the other students to master their spells. Next time, he'd think about bringing something else to do in class.

Potions was next, and it didn't go as well as he'd hoped.

Oh, he managed the potion just fine. But when he turned in, he was accused of cheating and the contents of his vial and cauldron were vanished without warning. For almost an entire minute, Harry just stood there stunned, as if Snape had vanished his thoughts instead of his potion. All the while the Slytherin half of the class laughed.

It was a hair growth potion, and for once Harry was chopping, cutting, and brewing with the ease and confidence of knowing he was doing it right. He could see how this could be relaxing, the bubbling cauldron acting to lull him hypnotically. He even had a shield around his cauldron to keep bubbling splatters in and sabotaging Slytherins out. To Harry it was a masterpiece, and with one evil sweep of Snape's wand, it was all gone. All gone! Not even a drop was left.

Suddenly, Harry no longer cared that he was still in the middle of class, in front of all his classmates. He didn't care that he had resolved to work better with Snape, knowing the Prince Grimoire would eventually bring them working together.

"I did not cheat!" Harry shouted, fists clenched at his sides.

"There is no way you could have brewed a perfect Hair growth potion," Snape snarled back, using his impressive height to tower over Harry's smaller form. "Your incompetence in potions is almost as legendary Longbottom's. No understanding of the finer points…"

"But you were watching me like a hawk!" Harry interrupted, pointing to his seat in the front row where Snape had assigned him. Harry was desperate to prove Snape wrong. "A half stir, windershins to dispel the…"

"Silence! You somehow knew about today's potion and purchased it ahead of time, didn't you!" Snape growled, and took a threatening step forward, his black eyes flashing menacingly. "Your father cheated in potions too, and you are just like him, thinking the rules don't apply, you insufferable, little brat..."

"Stop comparing me to my father!" Harry shouted. "I'm not him. I don't even know him!"

"30 points for interrupting a teacher and lying," Snape shot back, obviously taking sadistic glee in his position as a teacher. "And detention tonight for cheating. Youwill be rebrewing this potion again, and this time you won't be able to cheat."

Harry was in a foul mood after that, and the argument between teacher and student fueled the first rumor mill of the year. It got worse at lunch when Hermione told him he had better study up on the Hair Growth potion before detention tonight. For the fifth time.

"I don't need to study it. I already know it, Hermione," Harry snapped.

"I know, but if you need any help…"

"I didn't cheat!"

"I didn't say you cheated," Hermione said exasperated. "I just don't want you to get into any more trouble. It's only the second day of class, and you've already got detention and lost 30 points!"

"She has a point there, mate," Ron interjected, his mouth still full.

Harry glared at his two friends. "Thanks a lot, you two," he growled. He couldn't take this anymore, and especially not from his own friends. "My potion was perfect and you both know it. And when I go down there tonight to rebrew it, it will still be perfect because I did not cheat!"

And with that, Harry shouldered his bag and marched out of the Great Hall. Having cut out of lunch early, Harry decided he needed some fresh air and headed for his usual spot on the lake. Then he pulled the diary out. It was time to vent some frustration.

I absolutely cannot work with Snape, he wrote, his letters spiky from holding the quill too tight. At least his anger would serve one good purpose, making his friend stronger. Prince Grimoire or not.

I take it Potions did not go well, came the reply.

Oh, it went perfectly. Too perfect, according the Greasy Bat!

It was a moment before Marvolo replied. He accused you cheating?

Yes and gave me detention tonight too. He wants me to brew it again in front of him. Harry sighed, propping his chin on his fist. Why does he absolutely hate me so much? It had been a rhetorical question, but surprisingly Marvolo responded.

Would you really want to know? It has to do with your mother and is not a pleasant story.

Harry blinked for a moment before scrambling to answer. He could not write fast enough. If it has to do with my mom, than I have a right to know. Nobody tells me anything about her. It's always about my dad.

Very well then, Marvolo wrote. Severus Snape had grown up in the same neighborhood in which your aunt and mother lived. It was Severus who, in fact, told her she was a witch years before Hogwarts. Over time, they had grown very close, best friends even. Even after being sorted into different houses, Slytherin and Gryffindor, they were able to maintain that friendship. That was how strong it was, and the divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor was even more dramatic back then. There were some who thought they would even end up together after Hogwarts.

Harry had all sorts of questions on the tip of his quill, but he didn't dare interrupt Marvolo. Thankfully, Marvolo anticipated this and went ahead to answer one of Harry's questions.

You wonder about your father?

Yes. And please don't tell me I could have been a Snape. Just the idea is unthinkable!

I'll put your mind at ease then, and say you are not in any way related to Severus Snape, Marvolo answered, and Harry could hear the inaudible chuckle. Soon, Harry's anger slowly changed into intense fascination and curiosity. However, that is part of the reason why Severus seems to hate you so. He had been very much in love with your Mother, but the war and politics soon got in the way. He became one of my Death Eaters and your mother married your father and joined Dumbledore's soldiers.

For a moment Harry couldn't think. Snape had been in love with his mom? Well that explained some of the bitterness the man had against James Potter. Apparently, James had stolen his childhood sweetheart. Wait…Snape's a Death Eater? Harry wrote quickly. What is Dumbledore doing letting him teach at Hogwarts?

The reason for that, I can only speculate, Marvolo answered. His joining Dumbledore occurred after that Halloween night. My last memories of him were of him asking me for one favor, and one favor only. Remember, at the time I was neither kind nor generous. Indeed he had risked incurring my wrath simply by asking it.

It must have been very important to him then, Harry guessed.

It was. His favor was for me to spare your mother's life, Marvolo answered, and a cold chill rippled down Harry's spine. And as you know, I granted it or at least attempted to.

Snape must have really loved my mother then, Harry wrote, his handwriting slightly shaky with what he had learned. It just makes it all the sadder, Harry thought and wondered what happened after he realized Lily had died trying to save her son. Probably blames me for her death, Harry figured. Another reason for Snape to hate him.

Okay. You said Snape's feelings for my mom were only part of the reason why he hates me. Was there anything else?

The other is that he was mercilessly bullied by a gang of Gryffindors who called themselves the Marauders. From what I understood of the stories Pettigrew told me, the pranks played on Severus were vicious, even fatal. If I remember correctly, there was something about setting him up with a werewolf during the full moon.

Great, bullies as well, Harry thought bitterly. He hated bullies for obvious reasons. And let me guess, he wrote. My father was the leader of this gang. The story of Snape's life just got worse and worse. If Harry had any respect for his father left after visiting Gringotts, it was dying a quick death. And of course I am still paying for my father's foolishness.

Indeed, Marvolo replied. Although, I hear Sirius Black was equally as vicious. But his reasons for targeting Severus were different. Your father only started because Severus was the object of your mother's affections, and your father wanted her for himself. Black's reason is because he had turned his back on the Old Ways, and Severus represented everything Black had shunned when he ran away from home. It was made all the easier because Snape had come from a poor family, wore raggedy clothing, and was more into his potions than Quidditch. There was also talk that he came from an abusive household, which I later confirmed was true when I inducted him in my ranks.

Harry sighed. It sounded like Harry could have been Snape twenty years ago. The similarities between them were glaringly obvious.

So, my mother and Snape were really close, like close enough to marry, Harry wrote. Then along comes my father, flashy and loud like a typical Gryffindor, who decides to pick on the poor loner and steals what was probably the only good thing Snape had.

Well, now that Harry knew what was driving Snape's hatred of him, he could sympathize. And of course, I just have to look like a mirror image of my dad, reminding Snape every day of his tormentor.

Is there any way I can get him to see me and not my father? Harry asked.

While Severus is a master Slytherin, he is also well practiced in self-delusion, Marvolo answered. I'm afraid any effort to gain his respect at this point will only result in him thinking you are impudent or disrespectful.

Reading this, Harry slumped.

Is Severus' opinion of you that important to you?

Harry gave that some thought. If he could have Snape's respect, then at the very least potions class would be more enjoyable. But Harry's real motivation was that he wanted to get to know the man who was closest to his mother. After all, Snape had done everything he could to ensure his mother's safety.

Yes, it is, Harry wrote firmly.

The first step, then is to dispel his misconceptions of you, Marvolo suggested. Let him know that you did not grow up as the spoiled boy he believed. Let him know what you think about your father.

How can I get him to believe… Harry paused, hearing the bell that signaled the end of lunch break. I have to get to class. It's Defense and we have a new teacher.

Ah yes, the curse on the DADA position, Marvolo replied. And who might I ask will be the unfortunate soul this year?

Some old guy with a lot of scars, Harry said, trying to recall the one time he saw the man, which was only few seconds on the train and during the Sorting ceremony.I think Dumbledore introduced him as Remus Lupin.

Really, now that is a surprise, Marvolo wrote. Or perhaps not, with Sirius Black out...

This sounded important, so Harry decided to risk a few seconds of being late to get whatever tidbits of information on his new teacher. After all, based on his experience, it was the Defense teachers that kept trying to kill him.

Did you know him then? Harry asked, curious.

Remember those Marauder's I mentioned earlier? Marvolo didn't wait for a response as it was a rhetorical question. The Marauders consisted of four people. Your father, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin. In fact, Lupin was the werewolf that Severus had been tricked into confronting.

Harry's jaw dropped. He literally had no words to describe what he was feeling. And at this very moment, he was expected to just sit in class with a werewolf who had already tried to kill a Hogwarts student before.

Thanks for telling me, Harry wrote quickly. I have to get to class now, but I'll keep you updated on the new teacher.

Very well, and as always, be safe, my little one.

With that, Harry ran full tilt back to the castle in hopes to beat the tardy bell, all the while wishing he had read up on werewolves.

Other than a slight pause and an odd, almost wistful, look from Professor Remus, Harry thought the class was adequately taught. It was leagues beyond his first two DADA professors…that was until the professor deliberately skipped over him, denying him the chance to face the boggart.

So, Harry stood aside, feeling more than indignant, but also very confused. What was the professor trying to do by not letting Harry have a shot? Could it have to do with the fact the professor was friends with his father? Did Lupin think Harry couldn't face his fears? Even Neville had managed that, although why Neville was so afraid of Snape was a mystery. There were much more scary things in this world than a dramatic potion's teacher.

At the end of class, Harry dearly wanted to approach the teacher about why he was left out, but he couldn't. Not yet, not after just learning that the professor was close friends with his father and was apparently keeping it a secret from him. Not after learning said family friend was actually a werewolf who participated in a prank that could have gotten a fellow student killed. No, Harry was too distrustful of the seemingly gentle man to be caught alone with him.

Besides, he had another teacher to deal with first and plans to formulate.

By the time dinner was over, and Harry was slowly making his way down into the dungeons, he had a general outline of a plan in mind. Unfortunately, it depended a lot on how far Snape was willing to cooperate, but Harry had a plan for that as well. It wasn't a very Slytherin one, not like Marvolo's, but Harry didn't think he was Slytherin enough to manipulate Snape successfully. So, he was going for the Gryffindor approach and shock value.

So with a fortifying breath, Harry knocked on the door, at the exact minute of his detention.

"Get in here," came a growly voice, and Harry did. The professor himself was at his desk and looked up from reading some essays. "Set up your equipment. You'll have an hour to rebrew the Hair Growth potion."

Instead of heading to the potion's storage, Harry straightened up. "Professor Snape," Harry began, almost losing his nerve right there when the man's black eyes narrowed. He knew he'd have to speak quickly if he wanted to get out everything he wanted to say. "I know of the history between you and my father. More importantly, I know how you felt about my mother, Lily."

It was at this point that Snape rose to his full 6'4" height and had even drawn his wand. "Why you…"

"And I'd like to apologize on behalf of my father's foolishness." The words tumbled so quickly out of Harry's mouth that he wasn't even sure if it was understandable. "His pranks were not funny, they were mean-spirited and dangerous. Some of the things he did, he should have been expelled, and I have no doubt it is merely because of the Headmaster's blatant favoritism for Gryffindors and that the Headmaster needed my father's wand and gold to fight the war, that my father was not arrested for attempted murder." Harry paused to draw in a quick breath, relieved to see the stunned look on Snape's face. "I also know of the Life Debt you had owed my father, but I consider it void, especially as it was a Marauder prank that caused you to need saving in the first place. If that is not so, then I considered it paid when you implored the Dark Lord to spare my mother's life. So mote it be."

Harry slashed his wand down in a sharp cutting motion, as if cutting the Life Debt.

If Snape had been stunned before, that last part must have turned his world upside down. Then they both glowed a soft white as the magic accepted Harry's declaration. The Life Debt was officially repaid.

Harry waited a moment for Snape to say something, but apparently negating the Life Debt had put him even further into shock. "I know you're probably suspicious," Harry continued, following the plan, despite not getting any feedback from the teacher. "You're a Slytherin after all. But I am serious about proving to you how different I am from my father."

Finally, Snape found his tongue. "How did you know of the Debt? For that matter how did you know I had went to the Dark Lord to ask for your mother's life? " Then Snape's eyes narrowed again. "Did that werew…Did Lupin tell you?"

"I already know of Lupin's condition," Harry said. "And no, I didn't learn any of this stuff from him. His part in the Marauders makes me dislike him, and him being a werewolf makes me suspicious of him. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you the source of my information yet."

"You can't or won't?"

"I swore an oath not to," Harry lied. He hadn't, but since neither he nor Marvolo knew which side Snape was really loyal to, they felt it was best to keep Marvolo and his diary's existence a secret.

"You know far too much for a mere third year," Snape said. "But a sudden and suspicious adeptness in potions does not prove anything. It just shows you were lazy and deliberately incompetent for the last two years. You may not have needed to work a day in your life, no doubt the boy-who-lived was waited hand and foot, but I will not tolerate such insubordination and laziness in my classroom."

Harry nodded. "I can see why you think that," Harry said. "But if you have access to a pensive, there are a few memories I'd like to share with you."

This was the crux of the plan. Marvolo knew Snape was a legimens, but because Harry had no training in occlumancy yet, neither of them wanted Snape to have complete access to Harry's mind. Marvolo had come up with the idea of using a pensive and taught Harry how to withdraw memories. That way, Snape would only get to view the ones Harry wanted him to see.

One of Snape's slender eyebrows went up. It was obvious he was curious. Being offered to view someone's private memories was no small thing. But the Slytherin side of him hesitated, probably trying to find the hidden trap.

"I promise, this isn't a trick," Harry said quickly. "And I hope you would keep what you see between us." Harry looked down, feeling a bit nervous about Snape's reaction. "It's…er…not something I want to get around school. If you watch, you'll see what I mean."

Apparently, the lure of a secret and Harry's discomfort was enough to convince Snape. The teacher called for a house-elf to fetch the pensive from his private rooms. It only took a second before the ornate silver chalice was placed on the desk between them.

Harry had already selected the three memories he wanted Snape to see. Carefully, he drew out the three silvery strands from his temple and dropped them into the bowl. "I'd…um rather wait out here. There's no reason for me to see it."

The professor nodded before diving into the memories. Harry figure it would take about fifteen minutes to view them all, so Harry used the time to organize his supplies. Just because he and Snape were coming to an understanding, didn't mean the purpose of his detention could be forgotten. But he didn't start on the potion, for fear of Snape accusing him of cheating again.

Finally, the tall professor was ejected from the pensive, and Harry forced himself to look at the professor, if only not to admit his humiliation. Judging by the furious look those obsidian eyes, Harry mentally corrected Hermione's claim that you couldn't transfigure personalities. By the magic and rage radiating from the, admittedly frightening man, Harry thought the Snape that went in certainly wasn't the Snape that came out.

"Explain," Snape snapped, his voice cracking like a whip in the silent room.

Did Snape think I faked the memories? Was that even possible? Harry gulped. Not knowing what thoughts were running inside his professor's mind, Harry decided just to stick to the facts and let them speak for themselves. "Ummm…the first one was when I was six years old. By then I was already responsible for cooking their breakfast, but of course I wasn't very good at it yet, since I couldn't even see over the oven." Harry shrugged. "I hadn't eaten anything in three whole days but a moldy piece of bread. It had looked so good, so I snuck a piece of sausage…well, you saw the rest."

Harry trailed off, finding it harder to speak of the abuse he suffered than he thought. What happened after that was Harry had been thrown outside, in subfreezing weather in the middle of a snow storm, with only rags to keep him from the elements. If he hadn't hidden the key to the tool shed, if his accidental magic hadn't lit a controlled fire within that toolshed, Harry knew he would've frozen to death.

Harry shrugged again. "Apparently stealing food from the mouth of my poor cousin, meant I wasn't grateful enough for the roof over my head or the clothes on my back. After that, I was locked out until late in the day, because Aunt Petunia needed me to make dinner. I didn't get to eat that either."

Harry braved a look at Snape and was surprised to see the professor had collapsed into his chair, with his head buried in his hands.

"Oh Lily, I have failed you…"

Harry's jaw dropped. Never in his wildest dreams did he think Snape would feel such despair. The other two memories ran along the same vein, though the third one had included the buckle end of Vernon's belt as well.

"Ummm…Professor?" Harry said softly. "You couldn't have done anything. You didn't even know about the…you know, so…" Harry trailed off, uncertainly.

Finally, Snape looked up, this time his eyes were sad, but warmer. "Have you told the Headmaster about this? It was he who placed you there in the first place."

To Snape's surprise, Harry's face darken in anger. "Of course I told him. Maybe not in such details, but he already knew anyway. My Hogwarts letter was addressed to the 'cupboard under the stairs,' after all. I even asked him if I could stay somewhere else, anywhere else, but he just accused me of exaggerating and not being Gryffindor enough to forgive them for their flaws…I believe those were his exact words."

The more Harry spoke the more grim Snape became. It also chased off whatever sentimentality that had gripped the professor earlier and replaced it with that sharp cunningness that he was well known for. Harry was glad because even on the best of days, he had no idea how to deal with an emotional person, let alone an emotional Snape.

Snape nodded. "You're right. That manipulative old coot likely already knew, even before placing you in their dubious care." Snape paused and tapped on his chin in thought. "Normally, wizarding child protective services would be called in, but Albus no doubt has too much influence for a true investigation…"

As Snape plotted, Harry grew ever more alarmed. "Oh, please don't," Harry cried out.

This brought Snape back and he misread Harry's panicked look. "In child abuse cases, trials are closed, not open to the public. Only the investigators are privileged with all the details…"

Harry shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. Although I don't want this getting out to the media either. But I've sort of already handled the problem."

For a moment Snape looked alarmed.

"Oh, no! I didn't kill them or anything." Harry cringed at how that sounded. "But it sort of has to do with all the stuff I knew about you and my parents. It all ties together, so…" Harry shrugged.

"And you were sworn to secrecy."

Harry nodded in relief. That was until Snape pinned him with that intense, narrow gaze again.

"And you are certain that if you return to those…muggles," the words were practically spat out. "Then you would not be in danger?"

"I'm certain."

It wasn't the words that had convince Snape, but the look of smugness that shown in the boy's emerald eyes. "Then I will be momentarily satisfied, but we will revisit this issue at the end of the year."

Harry gave the professor a bright smile. "Yes, sir. I understand." Maybe by then, he could show Snape…Professor Snape the improvements in his room. Harry was surprised to find the idea appealed to him. "In the meantime…um…could you tell me a little about my mom?" Harry asked shyly, all too aware of the heat in his face. "Unless the memories are too painful."

"It is not a subject that I easily visit," Snape said slowly, but stopped when he saw the hopeful light in the boy's eyes dim. "But perhaps it is time for me to remember her in fondness rather than bitterness." Snape couldn't help but return a small smile when faced with the Harry's blindingly bright one.

"Thank you, Professor! My source says that you were the one who told my mom she was a witch."

Hearing this, Snape was ever more curious about who this source was. He was uncomfortable with how much this source knew about him, all that very personal information, but it was also obvious Harry and this source could be discrete.

"Indeed. I was," Snape answered, letting the mystery go for now. His gaze turned inward as he dredged up long forgotten memories. "Your mother had the most forgiving and generous spirit of anyone I had the privilege of knowing," Snape began, his voice slow and soft. "My home life….it resembled yours, in fact. Lily suspected, of course, and made it a point to see me at least once a day. She invited me often over to her home, and your grandparents took me in like a son they never had. Sometimes, she help bandaged my father's handiwork."

Snape's voice had grown so soft that Harry had to lean forward to hear it. "So your father…?"

Snape nodded, but didn't elaborate. "My mother, on the other hand, did her best to shield me," he continued. "You mother stood by me to attend her funeral."

Harry felt like crying for the injustice they both suffered, but the tears had been trained not to come no matter how cathartic it would have been. Instead, they both lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Finally, Snape saw the potion's supply all laid out on desk, and sighed heavily. "You didn't cheat."

"No, sir." Harry shook his head.

"Then I must apologize."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "That's alright, sir. I can understand why you thought that."

"And now that I know your true potential," Snape said. "I will expect exceptional work from now on."

This time, it was Harry who sighed. "I will if you can keep the Slytherins from sabotaging my work. I put up the sentinel charm around my cauldron, but I'm sure they'll just come up with some other way to mess me up."

Surprisingly, Snape frowned. "I'm afraid that while we have come to understand each other, I cannot change the way I behave around you. I cannot tell you why, but it is vital that I must continue to act as if I still hate you."

"Because you're loyal to the Dark Lord," Harry said knowingly, causing another jerk of surprise from Snape. "Or at least you pretend to be. I'm not actually sure which side you are on, yet. But don't worry. I'm not going to blab about this to anyone."

"You certainly know far too much for your own good," Snape grumbled. "When you are able to, I would very much like to meet this source of yours."

At that, Harry gave a conspiratory smile. "Seeing how well you took my news, I don't think you will have to wait long."

Snape shook his head, this time in mock exasperation. "You still are going to be the death of me," he said, though with a smile. "Now it's almost curfew. Clean up and get out of here, cheeky brat."

Harry shot him a grin before doing as he was told.

A/N: What do you guys think of my Snape? Snape wears many faces in fandom. He is such a complicated character to write correctly. Part of the reason why I didn't posted this story earlier was because I feared my Snape would fall short to canon or fanon. Especially the way he talks and the vocabulary he uses. He's sophisticated in a way that I am not, which makes it hard for me to portray him with the richness his character deserves.

I also suck at writing child abuse scenes...or anything overly angsty. That's why you didn't get to follow Snape into the pensive. Wish I could put myself that deep into my character's pain, but it would be too painful. If you guys want more of that though, I will make more effort in the future chapters.

For those of you looking forward to Lupin, sorry. I feel like I have to warn you guys that I always thought Remus was a wuss. In canon he's just too passive of a character to play such a large role in Harry's life. The only thing he did for Harry was teach him the patronus, but since my Marvolo is taking care of that part, I'm afraid Remus won't get much stage time between juggling Snape, Sirius, and Marvolo.

Anyway, I'm happy to dish out the chapters if you guys are happy to dish out the reviews. Fair trade, yes? ;)
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In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me