His love for Potions I ✔

Chapter 38: Traumatising children

Harry and Professor Snape ignored each other pretty neatly in their first Potions class of the new term, though it seemed unfair to Neville, who didn't deserve that many toads.

Watching the Unforgiveables in the first Defense class gave Harry the cold horrors, but he was neatly distracted by Divination, S.P.E.W., and a new letter from Sirius:

Harry -
I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.
I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry.
Sirius

Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry - what's up?"

"Well," Harry said, "We're going to clear out his house of old Dark objects his family left behind, I think. Over the hols."

"But what's this about Dumbledore and signs?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged angrily, and excused himself to bed. To lie awake, because It was better than whatever dreams he'd have.

#

Early next morning, Harry was up before breakfast, and headed directly to the dungeons, Map in hand. Professor Snape wasn't in his office or classroom yet, but if Harry peered carefully, he found Snape's little dot a little bit aways from the mass of hard-to-read Slytherin dots. One day he'd cast an Engorgement charm on the Map and actually be able to read the thing.

Snape's expression when he opened the doors to his rooms and found Harry standing there, hands in his pockets, would later be priceless. Right now, it was just one more thing to get out of the way.

Snape swept past him without a word, and Harry followed. They ended up in Snape's office, which was fine.

The cup of tea was a surprise, but not entirely unwelcome. Harry slouched into a chair, and Snape sat and sipped his own tea.

"Someone had better be dead," Snape said.

"Moody demonstrated the killing curse in class yesterday," Harry said, eyes on his teacup. "And an old muggle man this summer, but that was ages ago."

"...go on."

"I know my Aunt Petunia is full of - she tells lies a lot. But I reckon you were sad about mum, because it does explain some things." Harry ignored the frigid silence. This was a really nice teacup. Blue and white and sort of cute. It must have been a present, Harry couldn't see Professor Snape buying nice blue and white china.

"We're not going to talk about my mum," Harry continued. "But I want someone to know I've only got one memory of her, and that's the one with the killing curse in it. I remember her voice."

Harry took a meditative sip of tea.

"So I know she loved me a lot."

Harry ran out of words, at this point, and was startled out of his silence by the sound of paper. He looked up to see a stack of photographs on the table. He put his teacup down and flipped through them slowly.