10

Chapter 10: Acquaintance

Nathan left Professor Snape's office frowning in thought. He had noticed the strange expression on Snape's face after he had asked him of his mother's past. He knows something, he concluded, just like Uncle Harry. Everybody who knew something that could help him find out his father's identity chose not to tell him anything. Why? he caught himself thinking. Is he such a horrible person that everyone feels the need to protect me from him? It wasn't the first time his mind led him to that idea.

He walked back to Gryffindor Tower trying to figure out what might be so horrible about his father. Is he dead? No, he had already thought about that possibility and had discarded it. If his father was dead, his identity wouldn't be of such importance, would it? He didn't think so. He must be a horrible, dangerous man. That would more likely be the case. His father was a monster. Is he in Azkaban, then? That could be it, because of one thing he was sure: his father was a wizard. But, then again, why would it be so important for him not to know his identity? Nathan shook his head at the lack of answers.

He had been through this so many times, and was yet to find out something that would really lead to his father's name. And again, Snape knew something. This was new. Uncle Harry was his mother's best friend, so Nathan could only expect that he would know something on the matter, but Snape… that was completely unexpected. Nathan had never thought about Snape as one of his mother's acquaintances. He had asked the Potions master about her relationships only on an impulse, and now he realized that Snape knew something. What does he know? Does he know who my father is? He sighed.

Nathan entered the common room still lost in thoughts. Kevin spotted him by the portrait hole and called on Andy, who was working on his Transfiguration essay. Both boys observed their distracted friend walking aimlessly across the room. Kevin brought him back from his musings. "Hey, Nathan!"

Nathan looked their way as if surprised to see them there. He walked the space that separated him from his friends. "Hey, guys," he said without a trace of enthusiasm, lowering himself into the armchair facing the table where they were working. He was tired, both from the day's activities that now wore on his weakened body and from his overexerting mind.

Andy, noticing Nathan's unusual behavior, asked, "Are you feeling all right?"

Nathan sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all."

"Does it have to do with Snape?" asked Kevin. "I've never seen him as scary as he was today." After a pause, he added, "Did he offer you something to drink? You didn't take it, did you?" He eyed Nathan with concern.

"Do you think I'm that stupid?" Nathan shook his head in disbelief. "I might be stupid enough to enter the Forbidden Forest, but I would never drink anything Professor Snape offered me in his office," he added.

"That would be stupid," agreed Andy, "Everybody knows Snape is an evil wizard, and the way he was today…"

"Professor Snape is not evil. He saved my life yesterday, remember?" Nathan admonished. "I just wouldn't drink anything he offered me because he's a Slytherin."

"That is a good reason, too," agreed Kevin, nodding in agreement. "So, how was the meeting then?"

"Fifty points and a month of detentions," Nathan stated simply.

"A month? That's awful! How is one supposed to survive a month of detentions with Snape?" asked Andy in disbelief.

Nathan sighed. "I'll manage," he assured his friends. "I've survived one day; I can survive the rest."

"A whole month, though? I don't know…" Andy said uncertainly. "You should go to the Headmistress and ask her to do something about it. I don't think she would want anyone with Snape for that long,"

"I'll be fine," Nathan assured his friends once more. He was now contemplating a month of detentions with Professor Snape in a totally different light, but his friends didn't know that. The Potions master knew something about his father and it wouldn't be so bad to spend some time with him. He would have more opportunities to inquire further. This could be his chance to finally find out who his father was.

Nathan had never talked about it with his friends. They hadn't asked, and he hadn't volunteered the information, either. That suited Nathan quite well, since he didn't want his friends looking at him as the bastard he was. No, he wouldn't say anything. He would keep it to himself.

Of course, when Andy started to tell stories of his father, how he had taught him Quidditch maneuvers and all manner of other fun things, Nathan longed for a father too. He had missed so many things that only a father could give. He tried to picture his father doing all those things Andy spoke of, but he couldn't get the image exactly right. It was missing something – he couldn't picture his father's face.

Deciding he hadn't the strength to even start with the readings he had scheduled for that evening, Nathan bid his goodnights and headed for the dormitory. He had his first detention tomorrow and was still thinking what to do with the information he had acquired today. Snape knew something about his father.

Severus had managed to calm himself somewhat after that outburst of rage. He was now pacing the living room in his quarters, thinking of what to do. With every other thing that came to his mind was a way to hurt Hermione Granger, and that was when he stopped in his pacing and took a deep breath, only to start pacing again.

For one mad instant, he thought about killing Miss Granger, then about killing himself, but had managed enough control to realize that that was not the answer. This was all happening because he had wanted her to live in the first place. The thought of killing himself still lingered within his mind between a bad and a worse idea, but his Slytherin self-preservation instincts soon denied him the option, and he was back to nothing; he had not even a single, feeble idea of what to do.

Tired of pacing, he sat in the armchair facing the cracking fire that lit the room. How could she do this to me? He growled in frustration for not knowing the answer. How could she do this to herself? He sighed. He couldn't imagine the reasons a woman like Hermione would do such thing; keep a rape child. It was perfectly acceptable to abort under such circumstances, and he was sure she knew that. Then why? Why continue with a pregnancy that was started in such a manner? He couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for her actions; yet another mystery to add to the collection of Miss Granger's mysteries.

She knew he was my child; he had no doubt of that, and it just confused him further. The fact that she knew she was having his child and had continued with it anyway was disconcerting. Why would she want to keep a child with my blood? He grimaced at the thought. He wasn't ready to deal with it - he had a child. He could deal only with feelings he understood and right now he was feeling too much. He wanted to blame someone for this vortex of feelings. He couldn't blame Nathan, because the boy didn't have a choice on the matter. He would blame his mother.

His thoughts shifted to Nathan, even if unwillingly. No, he couldn't blame the boy, but he didn't have to like him either. The boy was as annoying as his mother. And as intelligent as his mother, too, he had to admit. The boy's skill with potions… that was his. He remembered how marveled he had been with Nathan's work during his classes. He could now acknowledge it, because he knew the boy had inherited these skills from him. Severus shook his head, then, he didn't want to go there. He didn't want to think about the boy.

He stood and left the small living room and went to the bathroom. Maybe a bath would help him think things through. He needed to be thinking straight if he were to deal with this, and he felt as tired as if he had confronted a dozen Dementors. He opened the water faucet and it started filling the bathtub. He turned and found his reflection staring back at him from the mirror. He stayed there, staring at himself and listening to the water falling and to his thoughts. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his nape, throwing his head back to meet his hand. Then, he opened his eyes again. "You're a disaster," he said to his reflection. "You're always messing with people's lives."

He kept staring at himself until the water reached the perfect level. He undressed and submersed his sore body in the warm water. I should confront Miss Granger, he thought, and tell her what she did was her worst mistake. He sighed. He wouldn't accomplish anything with such foolish act. What was done, was done. I'll make her regret what she did, though, he thought, clenching his jaw in anger. If he couldn't go back and change the fact that he had a son, he would make the woman responsible for this mistake pay.

He closed his eyes again, trying to take benefit from the relaxing bath. He didn't want a child, he never had. Another Snape, just what the world needs, he thought sarcastically. Family was never part of his plans for life. It wasn't even among the top ten things he most wanted, but if he started thinking about all the things she ever desired in life, he would come to realize he had devoted all these years to the wrong things. All the mistakes he had made in his youth; all the mistakes he had made in his adulthood… Do I really know what I want? he caught himself thinking. All I want now is to be left in peace. Of that he was sure.

Peace seemed little distant to accomplish now. He was in the middle of things again, consequences of his actions that persisted to haunt him. No peace, just uncertainties and choices to be made – yet more chances to make more mistakes. I'll have a solution by morning, he thought with conviction. All he needed was to relax, clear his mind and get some sleep. He finished his bath and changed into his nightgown.

He lowered his tired body to the soft bed and tried to sleep, but try as he might, he couldn't relax. He rolled from one side to another, his mind on the events that changed his life once again. He wouldn't sleep this night. He didn't think he would sleep for many nights.

When the morning came, Snape prepared himself to attend breakfast in the Great Hall. He had decided that he wouldn't change his life just because a child had some of his blood running through their veins. He left his quarters and met very few students on his way to the Great Hall. It was still early and he was one of the first to arrive, which suited him perfectly. He wasn't in the best mood to handle annoying students or engage in idle chit-chat with his colleagues.

Snape took his usual seat and served himself his usual cup of coffee. An owl brought his copy of the Daily Prophet as usual and he read the unimportant news of the Wizarding world while sipping his coffee. He buttered some toast, and ate some eggs and sausages, as usual. Then, he perused the student tables and the entrance door in yet another every-day habit, saw a group of Gryffindor first-years entering the Great Hall and realized that nothing would be usual anymore.

Nathan Granger and his friends headed for the Gryffindor table, oblivious to the Potions master struggle for normalcy. Nathan had slept very late the night before, thinking about yesterday's events. But now, he had his mind on other things. When he went down the stairs connecting the boy's dormitories to the common room this morning, he had found a great concentration of students gathering around a sign on the board. He didn't have to fight the crowd to see what it was all about because Kevin was already coming in his direction with a wide grin on his face. "There will be a Halloween feast!" he had said enthusiastically, and that was the only subject of discussion since then.

Nathan was excited with the idea of Halloween in the Wizarding world. Even growing up and living most of his life in the Muggle world, he knew this was a big holiday for wizards. He had heard stories of the feasts at Hogwarts and if everything was like what he had heard, this would be the greatest party ever!

Nathan had celebrated Halloween the Muggle way while growing up. He and some friends from the building in which he lived, wearing costumes, walked the streets nearby, going from door to door and asking for candy. His mother didn't like this idea very much. She always confiscated half of the sweets he collected. Nathan was trying to explain all of that to Kevin and Andy.

"So, you wear a costume to run from door to door and ask for candy?" asked

Andy.

"Exactly, you knock at the door of a house and say: trick or treat. If they don't have candy, you can play a prank on their house," Nathan tried to explain.

"And they can't do anything? I mean, they just watch you do whatever you want with their house and do nothing?" asked a confused Andy.

"Only if they don't have candy, but they always do," assured Nathan.

"Do they have carved pumpkins, too?" inquired Kevin.

"Some people carve pumpkins, but not everyone. You can buy fake ones you just plug to the energy; it's much easier," Nathan explained, which only added to his friends' confusion. They looked at each other and shrugged; Nathan rolled his eyes.

The conversation shifted to their Charms essay and then to Quidditch. Nathan was eating cereal from a bowl when he started to feel uncomfortable. It felt as if someone was observing him. He glanced around the hall, finally locking eyes with Professor Snape, who was staring at him. He stared back as he always did and was surprised when the Potions master didn't frown in disapproval, as he usually did. Nathan narrowed his eyes and still there was no response. It was as if Professor Snape was looking at him but not seeing him. What's wrong with him? thought Nathan. He stared a little longer in curiosity and then went back to his breakfast. Weird.

Professor Snape had lost the battle he was fighting to pretend nothing had changed. His son was in the same room as him, eating breakfast with his Gryffindor friends. He looked at the boy, lost in thoughts. He hadn't even noticed that Nathan had been staring at him a few moments ago. He had failed to ignore the boy's presence. He shook his head and lowered his eyes to his plate. He played with its content for a while until a voice coming from behind him, interrupted his struggle with the food. "I've been looking for you," Harry said.

"What do you want Potter?" Snape asked, stopping tracing unrecognizable patterns in the food with his fork, but not taking his eyes from the plate. Why did I ever think I would have some peace? he mused.

"Well, Friday is my last day here, so I was thinking we should have our duel then," Harry said.

Every year since Voldemort demise, Harry challenged Snape to a duel. At first, Harry had just wanted to fight Snape and, at Ron's suggestion, had called Snape for a duel. After being called coward again, Snape had accepted the invitation and from there on it had become some kind of annual tradition. It was mostly good-natured, but they would never completely bury the animosity that had existed between them for so long. Harry was yet to win, too, which only added to his desire to continue the tradition.

Snape thought for a while, considering the request, and after some deliberation he lifted his eyes to meet Harry's. "Do you still think you can beat me Potter? Even after all these years of failure?" he mocked the hero with a smirk.

"You know what I think. Are you ready for me this time?" Harry mocked back.

"I'm always ready for you, Potter," Snape said taking his attention back to his breakfast, "You're the one who's never ready for me."

"We'll see about that on Friday." With that, Harry took his place at the table and served himself from the house-elves' cooking.

Snape had much more important things on his mind right now, but he welcomed the distraction. He rather think about dueling Potter than dealing with the Grangers at the moment. In fact, this was one of the things he looked forward to every year; showing Harry bloody Potter his place. He relished every opportunity to show Potter that he hasn't learned his lessons, even after all these years.

Snape ate what he felt he could and left the Head Table to go back to the dungeons, only glancing at the boys chatting animatedly at the Gryffindor table when he passed by them. He berated himself for even this small gesture and left the hall cursing under his breath.

Nathan was oblivious to the Potions master storming out of the Great Hall. He had his attention on the conversation rolling around him. They were having a heated discussion about flying broomsticks. Since their flying lessons had started last week, Josephina, who was terrified of brooms, had been questioning the effectiveness of said lessons. "I think we should have the right to choose if we want to have flying lessons or not. I hate flying!" she protested.

"I don't know what there is to hate about flying! It's the best sensation I've ever felt. The wind, the freedom…" said a dreamy Andy. He was passionate for brooms and Quidditch, just like his father.

"I understand what you're saying, Jose. My mother never flew a broom since her flying lessons. I like flying, though," Nathan stated

"I think flying is awesome! I think they should allow first-years to have their own brooms. I know Harry Potter did, and he played Quidditch in his first-year as well," added Kevin, looking at Harry, who was talking with McGonagall near the Head Table.

"Yeah, that would be awesome!" agreed Andy. "I would want to play Keeper or Chaser. What position would you play, Nathan?"

"I don't know. Uncle Harry says I'm probably too tall to play Seeker and Uncle Ron says I could be a good Keeper, but-" Nathan was cut off by a mocking voice coming from behind him.

"I don't think you would play well in any position, Granger. What if the Bludger flees to the Forest? Would you call Harry Potter to get it for you?" Devon Malfoy was standing there, flanked by two other Slytherin first-years.

Nathan seemed unaffected by the mocking. He just turned in his seat to better look at Malfoy as if defying him to say more. When nothing else came, he turned back to the table and said, "If that's the best you can do, Malfoy, I suggest you take your group back to the Slytherin table."

That irritated Devon visibly. "You think you're so smart, but you lose so many points from Gryffindor that not even all the stupid answers you give in class will be enough to compensate. We don't even have to worry about the House Cup. Was it fifty points you lost yesterday?" Malfoy said then, and the Slytherins laughed.

All the students around them seemed to be very interested in the interaction. They had all stopped eating and chatting to watch Nathan and Devon exchange insults.

"That was better. Nice try," Nathan said in retort, and turning once again to face Devon he added, "But I think I can recover those fifty points if I have to, which is more than I can say about you." Nathan didn't turn back this time. He stared at Malfoy, who stared back. The tension between them could be felt by the murmuring expectants.

Before anything bad could happen, McGonagall, followed by Harry, was breaking through the gathering that was forming around the boys. "What is the meaning of this?" the Headmistress asked. When she got no response from the boys on the verge of hexing each other, she approached the Slytherins. "I'll ask you to go back to your table, Mr. Malfoy," she said, and then added, "and that goes for the rest of you, too."

They continued to glare at each other for a moment, and then the Slytherins left for their table without another word. Professor McGonagall was glaring at the remaining onlookers and they all went back to their meals in an instant. "Can someone explain what was going on here?" she asked, looking at Nathan, but it was Kevin who answered.

"Malfoy started it, Headmistress. He came here just to provoke Nathan," he said.

"What did he say?" asked Harry, quite interested on what Nathan had to say.

"They were just mocking me," said Nathan, dismissively. "It was nothing important."

Neither Harry nor McGonagall were satisfied with that explanation, but didn't inquire further. Harry eyed Nathan speculatively. The boy had a blank countenance that betrayed nothing. Nathan didn't want Harry trying to protect him. He had heard every word of what Malfoy had said and it would only worsen the situation. No, Nathan would take care of it by himself.

Harry and McGonagall walked back to the Head Table and the level of noise went back to normal in the Great Hall. Nathan sighed and turned back to his friends. Nobody seemed willing to ask him anything. Good, he thought, because he didn't want to discuss it right now.

"I'll expect this assignment by next week, not a day longer," Hermione was saying to her class of Inorganic Chemistry when the bell rang, signaling the end of the morning class.

The noise in the quiet classroom rose as the students gathered their things, discussing their plans for the rest of the day, and left for lunch. Hermione retreated to her desk to pack away her things as well. A few minutes after the last students had left, she heard a tap at the classroom door. She turned her head at the sound and found her colleague crossing the room toward her.

"Care to join me for lunch, Professor Granger?" he invited with a smile.

Professor William Brice, also a teacher and researcher in the Chemistry Department, was always very nice to Hermione. He was considerably new at the university and didn't have many friends in the faculty yet.

"Sure, what do you have in mind?" Hermione agreed.

He approached the desk and took the books she had just packed into a pile. Hermione seemed on the verge of protesting but decided not to. "I think it's your time to choose," he answered, smiling at her.

"Italian food, then," she said, and they left the classroom and walked the corridors together to her office. She opened the door and left her class notes and students assignments over her desk. Professor Brice followed her and placed the books he was carrying next to those papers. Eyeing the amount of them on her desk, he said, "You sure like homework! You must have tons of essays to correct here."

Hermione smiled. "I just think they help in the learning process." And taking her purse and coat, she stated, "I'm ready, let's go."

They left the building and walked the few blocks that separated the university from the nice Italian restaurant Hermione sometimes ate at, immersed in animated conversation. They took a table by the window and a waiter came to them to take their order.

While waiting for the food, they talked about several things related to their classes and research. They ate their meals and the conversation shifted to more personal topics. "I've heard your son is studying in a boarding school," Brice said in a tone that displayed his curiosity.

"It's the same school I went when I was his age. It's a very respectful institution," Hermione commented, hoping it was enough to change his interest to other subjects.

"You must be feeling a little lonely without him here," he said, then.

Hermione was a little taken aback by the course this conversation seemed to be taking. "I miss him, of course, but I knew this time would come eventually. It always comes," she admitted.

"So they say. If you need anything, you know you can come to me, don't you?" he said looking into her eyes. Reaching for her hand resting on the table top, he added, "You don't have to be alone, Hermione."

She didn't flinch from his touch but didn't feel comfortable with it either. "I'll have that in mind, William," she managed, withdrawing her hand from under his. They paid the bill and left the restaurant. That exchange had left an awkward tension between them. Hermione couldn't understand why she had shut him out like that. He is a great man; intelligent, gentle, funny, handsome. So, why don't I give him a chance?

They had made all the way back to the university in this uncomfortable silence. She could see she had hurt his feelings.

"I guess I'll see you around," he said in farewell.

"See you, William," she said, and he moved away from where she stood in front of her office door. She observed him until he turned right and disappeared from her view. She sighed. That was awful, she thought, entering her office. She didn't have classes this afternoon, only assignments to grade, so she sat at her desk. She couldn't understand why she didn't feel interested by a man like William. What is wrong with me? she reflected. Isn't William worth at least a change? Why not? She didn't know.

She took the first pile of papers to grade and started to read the top one. She didn't reach the middle of the page, though. Her mind was on what had happened during lunch. Is it because he is a Muggle? She snorted at the thought. That was ridiculous! Of course she didn't mind if he was magical or not. She was a Muggle-born, living in the Muggle world. Why, then? she thought. All she knew was that it didn't feel right; she didn't want him.

Who do I want, then? she questioned herself, and from nowhere the image of Severus Snape came to her mind and a light smile played on her lips. At least, until she realized what that meant, and then she gasped. What the…

Snape entered the Great Hall for lunch. He wouldn't let the boy get to him; boy that was already there, he noted, and then frowned in disgust with himself for even noticing.

He was managing to ignore Nathan perfectly well until almost the end of the meal, when the boy approached the Head Table.

"Professor Snape?" Nathan called.

Snape closed his eyes, hidden by the curtain of hair, before acknowledging him. "What do you want, Granger?" he spat.

"I want to know the time of today's detention, sir."

Detention? Severus had forgotten that he had given Nathan detention, with all that had followed the statement of the punishment. But now everything came back. A month of detentions, he remembered, frowning at the boy. "Meet me at seven in the classroom," he stated simply.

"Yes, sir," Nathan answered, and left to meet his friends by the door of the Great Hall.

Snape was left with the realization that he couldn't avoid Nathan any longer. He had forgotten about the detentions but by seven, he would be prepared to face the boy.

This little chat at lunch could be held responsible for many students leaving his afternoon classes in tears, and also for the lowering of the gemstone level in all the houses' hourglasses by dinnertime. By the end of the day, Snape didn't have a solution for the upcoming detention. He decided to skip dinner and retreated to his office.

At seven, already back at the Potions classroom, Snape heard a knock on the door. "Enter," he said.

Nathan entered the room and started to advance to where the Potions master was, only to be interrupted by Snape. "Stay where you are, Mr. Granger," he heard the professor say. "We are leaving for the Headmistress office to discuss your situation."

Nathan frowned with the news. "Why, sir?" he asked.

"Must you question everything?" Snape said between gritted teeth, and without another word, he stormed past Nathan, leaving the classroom. Nathan hurried to keep up with the long steps of the Potions master.

They climbed the stairs that separated the dungeons from the tower where the Headmistress' office was, in silence. By the gargoyles, Snape offered the password and they were lifted by the rotating staircase. Snape knocked and waited for the Headmistress to answer. When he heard McGonagall's voice call enter, he opened the door.

"What can I do for you, Severus?" she asked.

"I'm here to discuss Mr. Granger's punishment for breaking the school rules and entering the Forbidden Forest. I've already deducted fifty points from his House and deliberated for a month of detentions," he said to the Headmistress as if Nathan wasn't there. "All I need is someone to supervise these detentions."

"Why can't you supervise them, Severus?" McGonagall asked, eyeing Snape with some surprise, "You are usually too eager to help in these matters, especially when the student is a Gryffindor."

"It's not my place to discipline Gryffindors, Minerva," he stated in annoyance. "That's Lupin's job."

Nathan wasn't missing any word of that discussion. He was listening curiously as Snape tried to get rid of him of all manners. Nathan wasn't the only one observing the Potions master intently; a pair of blue eyes was also on the man since his arrival.

"You know quite well that Lupin is unavailable at the moment," McGonagall said, losing some of her patience with Severus.

"Then maybe you should take over Granger's punishment personally," Snape dared to say, showing how desperate he was.

McGonagall looked at Snape in disbelief. "I'm the Headmistress, and I don't have time to supervise detentions! As Remus is unavailable, you'll have to supervise his detentions yourself, Severus."

There was no room for discussion. Snape let out a breath in a gesture of defeat. "Back to the dungeons, Mr. Granger," he said, without looking at Nathan.

Nathan hesitated before turning to leave. It was the first time he had entered the Headmistress office and he was looking at everything with interest while listening to the professors' discussion. There were many portraits hanging on the wall behind Professor McGonagall's desk and all of them had their eyes on the two teachers… all but one. At first, he was observing Snape just like the others, but after a while his blue eyes shifted to look at Nathan. The portrait had smiled when Nathan was ordered to leave.

He walked back to the dungeons reflecting on what was happening. Professor Snape doesn't want to supervise my detentions. Why? Is it because of the conversation we had yesterday? Nathan recalled the odd look on Snape's face the other day. He is avoiding me, and it's because he knows something.

Once he reached the dungeons, instead of waiting by the door, he decided it was better to go in. The classroom was barely lit. He seated himself by the workbench nearest to Professor Snape's desk, looking for some distraction while waiting for the professor. He didn't have to wait long, though.

Snape entered the room, visibly irritated. He walked to his desk and, without looking at Nathan, said, "Parchment and quill out, boy! You're doing lines."

Nathan looked at the Potions master for a moment before obeying. When he had the appointed material out of his bookbag, Professor Snape spoke again, "Take your things to the last workbench and write a hundred inches of I must not break school rules."

Nathan didn't question the order, but he did think it odd. Why is he sending me to the end of the room? Taking his materials, he sat at the last workbench and started his task.

Snape had sent the boy to the back of the room. He didn't want to be near him, but his mind had a different opinion. From time to time, he was convinced to lift his head and observe Nathan working on the lines, a gesture that was followed by the thoughts of hurting Hermione Granger as soon as he realized what he was doing. He didn't leave his chair for the remaining of the detention, though.

One hour later, Nathan approached Snape, rolled parchment in hand. "I've finished, sir."

Snape took the proffered roll. "Get out!"

Nathan fidgeted a little, like if wanting to say something, but left without a word.

Snape opened the parchment and read the line that repeated itself down the page: I must not break school rules. His eyes perused the whole one-hundred inches and stopped to read a different line at the very end. He narrowed his eyes. It read: I must not break school rules. I disappointed you, Professor Snape. I promise not to be this stupid again. I'm sorry.

He crushed the parchment.

By the same time the next day, Nathan and the others were hanging around in the Entrance Hall. Kevin and Andy had decided to keep Nathan company while he waited for the time of his detention.

"Do you think he'll make you write lines again?" asked Andy.

"I don't know. I hope not. It's too boring to just sit there in that dark room, writing stupid lines," Nathan complained.

"Would you prefer to clean cauldrons, like the last time?" asked Kevin.

"I guess I would. At least it's more productive than lines," Nathan answered.

They waited a little longer, until seven o-clock arrived. Kevin and Andy wished Nathan luck and left for Gryffindor Tower, while Nathan headed to the dungeons. He knocked at the Potions classroom door and waited. "Enter," he heard.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," Nathan greeted, and got no answer, as usual. He looked at the workbench he had used the day before and saw a cauldron there. He hesitated, not knowing if Snape wanted him to go to his desk or just stay at the last workbench. As the professor said nothing, Nathan advanced, stopping in front of the Potions master. "What is my task today?"

"First of all, what were you thinking when you disobeyed me yesterday?" Snape didn't wait for an answer. "I thought I had been clear in your assignment Mr. Granger, but again you proved you're not as smart as you think you are. What lines did I instruct you should write?"

"I must not break the school rules, sir," Nathan answered.

"And was that what you wrote?" Snape asked then.

Nathan went quiet. He had written the lines, but then had added something else at the end. When he realized that Snape was going to berate him again, he spoke. "I wrote the required length of the lines as you demanded, sir, and I only added the other line after I had finished."

Snape was rendered speechless. Nathan had surprised him once again. It was turning into a habit. The boy is cunning, he thought. Frowning for recognizing yet another admirable quality in the boy, he ordered, "Clean that cauldron until it's as shiny as a mirror. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes, sir," Nathan answered, lowering his head, and he walked back to the end of the room.

He cleaned the cauldron while Professor Snape graded some papers, or tried to. The same as the day before, from time to time Snape found himself observing Nathan. What he didn't know was that he was being observed by the boy as well.

Why the fuss about a simple apology? Nathan thought. I thought he would like to know that I'm sorry he is spending all this time with me. Resting his tired arms between long bouts of scrubbing, Nathan took a short moment to watch Snape. As a good observer, Nathan realized that Snape wasn't really grading the papers, but just feigning it. Maybe this was the time to ask him.

"Professor Snape?" Nathan called.

"I hope you're interrupting me to say you've finished."

"I don't think I'm interrupting you, sir," Nathan said and without leaving space for a reprimand, he added, "I want to know if you're all right, sir."

"I was better when I didn't have to deal with you, Granger," Snape said between gritted teeth, spitting the name. And it was the absolute truth.

So, he is angry with me, Nathan decided. "I'm sorry you're stuck with me, sir. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Didn't you? Are you sure you didn't plan this whole thing?" Snape's voice was rising with each question. He rose from his seat. "I know what you were doing in the Forest, boy, and I honestly don't think you did it out of generosity. Were you looking for detentions? Did you want to be stuck with me in this dungeon?" Severus was by Nathan's side now. "I don't know what you want from me, boy, but I want you to know that this little game – yours and your mother's - ends here!" He was face to face with his son.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," Nathan said, confused. "I went to the Forest to get the unicorn hair, which was stupid, I admitted. But I did it to make you proud of me, and not to get detentions. I didn't want to get stuck with you, sir, and I don't know what game you're talking about. My mother and I are doing nothing!" Nathan was angered at the mention of his mother. Who does he think he is to talk about my mother like that?

"So, you know nothing about your mother," Snape stated. "Or me!"

"I know very little about you, sir, but you can't say I don't know my own mother," Nathan answered, between gritted teeth.

"Then tell me who your father is," Snape growled.

Nathan just stared at the man in front of him, fuming. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hurt him.

Snape broke the staring contest first. He had been sure the boy knew the truth and was just playing with him. But now, he wasn't so convinced.

He heard Nathan take a deep breath and say, "I should've known you would use this information against me. That's what you do, right? That's what Slytherins do. You use the knowledge of someone else's weakness to your advantage," his voice was low and hurt.

"I'll finish cleaning the cauldron and be out of your dungeon, sir."

And he watched as the boy quickly completed his task and left.