Harry sent him a light glare. "I'm sure they would if my professor didn't hate me, and the Slytherins didn't sabotage me."
"From the looks of things, you've got half the Slytherins wrapped around your little finger," Snape retorted, making Harry blush. "And you are aware that I will have to keep up appearances. I shall endeavour not to harm your potions, and I will mark you as fairly as I can, but there are people on both sides watching me, Potter, and I must maintain a certain level of… spite in your direction."
"I expected as much," Harry said with a shrug. It really wouldn't be much different to previous years. He could handle it. "But, sir, before we reach that point… I just wanted to say thank you, for everything you've done for me over the summer. You didn't have to spend time teaching me. I'm well aware that you're here because Moony is, not for me or Sirius. I just— you didn't have to be nice to me, but you were. So, thanks," he finished awkwardly. Snape was silent for a minute.
"I daresay Remus would have been quite unimpressed with me had I treated you here as I treat you at school," he said eventually. "Nonetheless, I find that without certain… external influences, you are not a terrible student, Mr Potter. Still unfailingly Gryffindor, but that appears to be the life I have chosen for myself." This came with a long-suffering sigh that made Harry laugh.
"You know the Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin?" he said, watching Snape's dark eyebrows rise.
"What a disaster that would have been. Dumbledore might have had a stroke on the spot." Snape turned to Harry, looking him over appraisingly. "I have hope that between myself and Draco, we'll be able to make enough of a Slytherin out of you for you to survive in this world. Rest assured, Mr Potter; while we may have started off on the wrong foot, we are on the same side now." He strode towards the door, beckoning Harry to follow. "As we still have some time before dinner, I would like you to follow me to the parlour. I wish to check your Occlumency shields one last time before you face the headmaster."
Harry nodded, and the pair of them went upstairs to the empty parlour. Harry took a seat, knowing he would need it if Snape was about to be as ruthless as he feared.
The Slytherin didn't give Harry time to prepare; as soon as they made eye contact, he was working away at Harry's shields. Harry kept his breathing steady and his mental defences tight, unsure how long he sat there for. Snape tried everything; brute force, sneaking through cracks, even trying to convince Harry that he'd disappeared, only to try and creep in when he let his guard down. Through it all, Harry refused to let him in. Eventually, the attack ceased, for real this time.
"Very good, Potter," Snape said with an approving nod. "You should be able to withstand any discreet attempts at entering your mind. Should the headmaster wish to put in any more force than that, it'll be obvious to you and also any bystanders, and I believe if it ever gets to that point you will have bigger things to worry about." He looked at Harry with a serious expression. "Make sure you have your shields up at all times, especially if you're in large crowds or around the headmaster. Eventually it will become second nature, but at first it may get exhausting."
"I'll do my best," Harry promised. "Thank you for helping me with this, Professor." He'd made more progress in the last month and a half than he had in the entire nine months he'd been working on it by himself.
"You're welcome, Potter. You're free to go." Nodding in thanks, Harry got to his feet, leaving the parlour with his hands in his pockets. Now, how to spend the rest of his day… perhaps he'd set a few parting pranks for his beloved godfather.
.-.-.-.
All too soon, it was Saturday night. Harry's school trunk was packed and ready, after a long, drawn-out selection process of his bookshelves, which culminated in Remus promising to send him any books he left behind if he decided he wanted them. It was a refreshing concept for Harry, having a bedroom he could leave stuff in during the school year without worrying about any of it being broken or stolen or thrown out. Having enough things that he couldn't fit them all in his school trunk.
Harry was about as ready as he could be, and was lying in bed listening to some quiet music on his Wireless when there was a knock on the door. He turned off the Wireless, calling for whoever it was to enter. Sirius slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him, and turned to Harry with a sad sort-of smile on his face. "Mind if I join you?"
Harry patted the mattress beside him, and Sirius clambered up onto the bed, leaning against the headboard with his shoulder bumping Harry's. "All set, then?" he asked, his gaze landing on Harry's trunk.
"I think so. Moony said he could send anything I'd forgotten over with Snape." He bit his lip. "Are you ready? For me to leave?" It was weighing on his mind, the prospect of school starting up; he would be gone, Snape would soon be gone, and Remus wouldn't want to spend all his time away from his partner.
It meant that there were times Sirius would be alone in the house. After being in Azkaban, Sirius didn't do well being alone. "Don't worry about me, Harry," he insisted. "I'll be fine. I've got Buckbeak, and Ceri. And Moony's promised me he won't be gone more than two evenings a week." He shrugged. "Gotta get used to being by myself eventually, right? Can't expect you lot to babysit me forever."
"We're not babysitting you, Sirius," Harry scolded lightly. "This has been the best summer ever."
"It has been pretty great, hasn't it?" Sirius agreed. "I'm glad I was able to give you that. I wish I could give you the world, Pup, but this is a good start." The man sighed, running a hand through his dark hair and turning to Harry. "I've been reliably informed that I can't keep you hidden away here forever, so for your old godfather's sake, please look after yourself in the big scary outside world?" His words were playful but his eyes were serious, and Harry chuckled.
"You're not old, Sirius, you're thirty-four."
"Thirty-five in November!" Sirius yelped. It was clear he thought that was akin to turning a hundred. "Exactly, you're barely a quarter of the way into your life, for a wizard."
"You're missing my point," Sirius retorted, aware he'd lost that particular argument. "Be careful, okay? Voldemort isn't the only enemy you have anymore. Dumbledore wants you for his weapon exactly how, we can only guess, but it's clear he doesn't care about you past how you factor into his grand plan. If he knows you're starting to mess with that plan, you're in deep trouble. There's going to be a lot going on at the school this year, and I need you to be safe."
"I won't go looking for trouble, Sirius," Harry said. His godfather's expression was doubtful. "I mean it! I can't promise trouble won't find me, but I'll try my best to stay away from it. And Dumbledore."
"I suppose that's all I can ask." Sirius reached into the pocket of his robe, pulling out a small round mirror in a black frame. "I want you to have this. It's a two-way mirror; your dad and I used to use them all the time. I've got the other one — just say my name into the mirror, and mine will vibrate, and then we can talk to each other."
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