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"Mmm. He waxed philosophical about it. I don't know if you realise as much, but he takes his Head of House duties very seriously."

"Yeah, never seen him take a point from Slytherin yet," Harry grumbled.

Remus softly snorted. "Oh, Severus is very partisan, no doubt about it. But that's not what I meant. He knows all the children very well, and their families too."

"That's because they're all purebloods, just like him. Sirius explained that tapestry to me, you know. The pureblood families are all interrelated. Snape's probably known most of his charming little Slytherins since they were born."

"They aren't all pure-blooded, Harry. The ones who aren't learn quickly to keep their background quiet. Regardless of bloodlines, Severus spends a great deal of his free time seeing to his students. He talks to them, after hours, makes sure they adjust to life at Hogwarts. He goes over end of term grades with each, admonishing and counselling them as needed. When the Slytherins get testy, he's a nearly constant presence in their common room."

"Well, he'd have to be, wouldn't he?" was Harry's sour response. "Slytherins aren't Gryffindors. When they get mad, the result might be murder." When Remus just waited, Harry grudgingly admitted, "Okay, okay. It sounds like he does a bit more than McGonagall, all right?"

"He'd have done all this for you, too, if you'd been placed in Slytherin," Remus continued.

"Oh, sure."

"No, he would have," Remus insisted. "Severus has . . . a peculiar sort of honour. Being a Slytherin would have made you his own, Harry, and he takes care of his own, no matter that he can't stand the sight of some of them. I think he would have seen you for who you are, much sooner, if he'd been in a position where he had to get to know you, more."

"Yeah, well, what's past is past," Harry murmured. "The dreams . . . so you think I'm ambivalent about having chosen Gryffindor over Slytherin?"

"I think you're starting to realise, inside yourself, that you are both. Or perhaps merely that the Gryffindor way of honour and loyalty is not the only useful way of looking at things."

Harry crossed his arms behind his neck and stared at the ceiling. He'd have to think about that, but not now. Thoughts of Snape at the Death Eater meeting crept back into his mind, and to banish them, he wondered aloud, "What do you think's going on at Hogwarts, tonight? Halloween is always great fun. Well, except for the year Quirrell set a troll loose in the dungeons. Um, Quirrell was the defence teacher two years before you."

"Some defence teacher," Remus returned.

"You don't know the half of it. He was possessed by Voldemort."

"You're having me on."

"No, I'm not. Ask Snape. Quirrell tried to hex me off my broom, Voldemort's doing. Snape incanted a counter-curse to save me, though at the time I believed he was the one doing the hexing."

Remus let silence reign for a moment, then said in an odd tone, "I don't suppose you've ever thanked him for that."

"No, and I don't suppose I will," Harry admitted. "He might bite my head off."

"He would." Remus' yawn was accompanied by rustling noises as he rolled over and got more comfortable. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night," Harry quietly replied, though he knew he wouldn't sleep. He lay there thinking about Hermione's last letter, mentally composing a reply he'd write at first light. And then he couldn't fight it any longer: he thought about Snape. Memories assailed him of the Death Eater meeting he'd been unwillingly portkeyed to after the Third Task. Voldemort, vengeful and cruel to his own followers. The Cruciatus curse. Wormtail cowering.

Was Snape at a meeting like that one, a circle of Death Eaters worshipping Voldemort as he spouted his evil plans? Or were they on a rampage tonight, terrorizing some half-wizard village, slaying half-bloods and Muggleborns?

Just as well he'd decided not to sleep, Harry realised. He wouldn't have prophetic dreams, not tonight. His every thought was the stuff of nightmares.

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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other:

Chapter Twenty: To Know Everything

~

Comments very welcome indeed,

Aspen in the Sunlight

Chapter 20: To Know Everything

http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=5036&chapter=20

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A Year Like None Other

by Aspen in the Sunlight

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Chapter Twenty: To Know Everything

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By the time Remus woke up, Harry had written a letter to Hermione and another one to Ron, leaving both of them unsealed so that he wouldn't have to address another envelope in case Snape wanted to read them. He hadn't asked to do so again, not since Harry's very first letter from Grimmauld Place, but it wasn't every evening that Harry saw the Dark Mark flare to life, was it?

He'd said nothing whatsoever about that, of course, which left him in a bit of a quandary. What should he write to his friends? He couldn't tell them that he was getting on better with Snape. Not only would Ron think he'd gone nutters, information like that would get Snape killed if the letter fell into the wrong hands. So too with explaining how much better Occlumency was this year, and how good he was getting at it. He probably shouldn't even mention staying in the house with Remus, he realised. Anything to do with an Order member was best kept secret.

In the end, Harry settled for a long description of Sals and how funny it was to have chats with a snake. He asked about their Halloween, and how classes were going, and tried not to sound too worried.

But he was worried. About Snape.

Harry left Remus' room when his teacher began stirring, and for lack of anything better to occupy his mind, cooked up a breakfast that would do a house-elf proud. Cooking wasn't so bad, really. Not when you had someone appreciative to eat the results, that was.

"We need the Daily Prophet," was the first thing he said when Remus appeared after his shower. "I want to know if there were any Death Eater attacks last night."

"I don't think you should read about them, if there were," Remus replied, serving himself a plate full of pancakes, bangers, and poached eggs.

Harry wasn't about to be put off so easily. He set down his fork with a definite thud. "I am not a child, Remus. I have to know what Snape was doing last night!"

Remus set his fork down too, albeit more gently. "You are not a child, no. But you are not an adult, either, and you are certainly not Severus' keeper. All you have to know about last night is that he was doing his best to help the Order win this war. It's not for you to judge him, whatever he may have had to do."

Harry gnashed his teeth. "I'll find out sooner or later. You might as well just get me the paper, like I asked!"

"I'm surprised you would believe a word written in the Prophet," Remus admonished. "I certainly don't believe what I read in there about you."

"Well, there is that," Harry grumbled, though he was scarcely mollified. "It's nothing but a mouthpiece for Fudge and his cronies. They've been reporting Death Eater activity, though. Finally."

"You'd do better to concentrate on your wand-work than worry yourself over what Severus' own responsibilities might include."

"My wand-work's hopeless and you know it." Harry took a huge swig of orange juice, wondering if Snape would even notice a couple of inches less in the whiskey bottle. He could pour it into something like juice, couldn't he? Remus would never know. Hmm, well maybe he would, with that sense of smell that came along with werewolf territory.