Walk the Shadows

back in his chair. 'I think you should have let the hat put you where it wanted to.'

'Oh yeah? Why?'

'For one thing,' Snape drawled, 'we might have avoided much of the . . . unpleasantness between us. As your Head of House, I would have been personally responsible for your welfare.'

Harry snorted a laugh. 'As it was you took on a lot. You saved me from Quirrell during my first Quidditch match, and from Remus when he turned into a werewolf. And from . . . you know.'

Snape nodded. 'Still, had you been in Slytherin, I might have been better able to temper my--'

'Hatred? Disgust? Or your mind-bogglingly, all-consuming loathing of everything Potter, coupled with the desire to see my head brining in your lab?'

'Indeed.' Snape's lip twitched again.

Lifting his own eyebrows, Harry gave him as much of a cheeky smile as he could muster. 'Yeah, that would've been nice.'

TBC . . .

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! You da bomb!

If you have any questions, or comments or corrections, please let me know. Next chapter should be out over the weekend.

Aug. 8

*Chapter 20*: Chapter 20

Walk the Shadows -- Chapter 19

By jharad17

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Quit asking!

Chapter Warning: for vulgar language; for types, see first sentence . . .

Aug. 9

Fuck this. I am not going to write in this bloody book anymore. Not one more word. Fuck you, Snape!

Harry slammed the book closed again.

'Problem?' Snape asked, and Harry almost threw the journal at him.

'No. Why?'

Snape raised one eyebrow.

Harry hated when he did that. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Snape to say something. Two could play at his stupid mind games, after all. But Snape remained silent, and Harry hated that, too. He glared at the professor, whose expression didn't change. Finally, Harry shoved the book across the writing desk. 'I'm not doing that anymore.'

'Ah.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'It's an acknowledgement of your statement.' Snape's other brow rose. 'I did not realize such miniscule words gave you trouble.'

'Just shut it!'

'A tad more decorum would suit you, Potter.'

'Yeah, well, stuff your decorum. I'm not writing in that bloody book anymore.'

'So you've said.'

'And what're you gonna do about it?'

Snape's expression didn't change, but he stood, and managed to look more threatening, just the same. 'Nothing. Writing is purely voluntary. Of course, not writing, means not flying . . .'

Harry gritted his teeth, wanting to clobber Snape or make him yell or something. He hated not knowing what to expect from this man, and hated him for that confusion. 'I hate you, you know that?'

The professor cocked his head a little to the side, and peered at him as if examining a particularly foul turd. 'I am not unaware of your feelings, Potter.'

'Yeah, well,' Harry replied, feeling oddly disconcerted. But why? He really did hate Snape, didn't he? The man kept him locked up down here, and wouldn't let him go flying, and made him talk about things he didn't want to talk about and made him eat when he wasn't hungry, and yet didn't yell or hit him or anything . . . 'Just thought you should know.'

'And now I do. Would you like to do your homework then, or read more on meditation techniques?'

'Neither! I don't want to do any of it!' He snatched up the journal and hurled it at the fireplace. Snape just watched it smack into the mantel and did nothing to stop him. 'And how 'bout you stop being so . . . so goddamn understanding, okay? Why can't you yell at me or punch me or call me a fucking retarded freak or a spoiled arse or something? You're treating me like I'm damaged, and I'm not!'

Snape's dark eyes were hooded as he met Harry's gaze. 'I assure you, Mr. Potter, that I have no intention of calling you a 'fucking retarded freak',' he said, his mouth twisting over the words. 'And I do not hit children.'

'I have never been a child!' Harry screamed, his vision narrowed to a red haze. 'Get