The Girl Who Saw Tomorrow » Harry Potter

1.33 | New Year Traditions

"You know," says Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."

Margaret bit into her apple and watched from the side of the kitchen as an ugly flush covered Snape's pale face. Harry was sitting in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table.

"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," Snape says, the familiar sneer curling his mouth as he glimpses at Margaret and then at Sirius, "but Black and Xenakis-"

"I'm his godfather," Sirius declares loudly and matter-of-factly. Jotting a thumb back, he adds, "And she already knows what you're here to say."

"Word," she says, raising her apple as though toasting. Sirius shot her a subtle wink over his shoulder.

"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," Snape snaps, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel... involved."

"What's that supposed to mean?" says Sirius, letting his chair fall back onto all four legs with a loud bang.

"Merely that I am sure you must feel - ah - frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful," Snape adds delicate stress on the word, "for the Order."

It was Sirius's turn to flush. Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to Harry, and Margaret rolled her eyes.

"The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."

"Study what?" says Harry blankly.

Snape's sneer became more pronounced. "Occlumency, Potter. The magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."

Harry's eyes widened behind his circular glasses and his face lost a considerable amount of colour.

"Why do I have to study Occlu- thing?" he blurts out.

"Because the Headmaster thinks it a good idea," Snape answers smoothly. "You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?"

"Yes," says Harry. "Who's going to be teaching me?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am," he says.

If possible, Harry turned even whiter in the face at the notion of having extra lessons with Snape of all people. He looked quickly around at Sirius for support.

"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" asks Sirius aggressively. "Why you?"

"I suppose because it is a Headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks," says Snape silkily. "I assure you I did not beg for the job." He got to his feet. "I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."

He turned to leave, his black travelling cloak billowing behind him.

"Wait a moment," says Sirius, sitting up straighter in his chair. Snape turned back to face them, sneering.

"I am in rather a hurry, Black... unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time."

"I'll get to the point, then," says Sirius, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape who had balled his fist in the pocket of his cloak over what was undoubtedly the handle of his wand. "If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to."

"How touching," Snape sneers. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?"

"Yes, I have," says Sirius proudly.