Somewhat mollified, Harry said, 'Yes, please. Thank you, sir.'
'What other concerns do you have about classes?'
Harry's hands formed into fists, and he put them into his lap, instead of leaving them on the desk. 'You know . . . what we talked about before. With . . . with the kids who've got . . .' He swallowed hard, unable to continue for a moment, but he was a Gryffindor, right? With Gryffindor courage. So he pushed the words out before he could think about them too much. 'The students with Death Eater parents.
Snape was quiet for a long time, though his gaze never left Harry's face. It was like he was searching for something, or waiting for Harry to say more. But Harry didn't have anything more to say. Finally, Snape ran a hand over his face and sighed. 'It will be a challenge for you,' he said softly.
'Was 'challenge' on your word-a-day calendar or something?'
'What?'
'Sorry,' Harry said. 'Muggle thing.' He forced his hands to relax, and pushed his essay away, deliberately looking away from Snape's penetrating gaze. 'How'm I going to face them?'
'The same way you have faced everything, I presume . . .' He paused, then drew another chair closer to the desk, and sat down. His voice was faintly chiding when he continued, 'Although with a tad less violence, I hope. Those children are not responsible for the sins of their parents.'
'No . . . but if they revel in my pain, am I allowed to cause them some?'
Snape's breath came out in a soft exclamation. Harry couldn't tell if it was a laugh or not; he hadn't meant to be funny. 'Do you really want to?'
He did, especially if they mocked him and humiliated him to the whole school, but . . . but it was only a gut thing, and he knew he wouldn't really try and hurt them, not unless his life was in danger. He just wasn't cut out for the revenge thing. He'd learned that with what happened in Diagon Alley, and with Dumbledore. He could do it, he supposed, but he would feel really, really bad about it later. He put his head in his hands and rested both on the desk. 'No, not really.'
Snape's hand came down on his shoulder, lightly, and Harry flinched, but not as bad as he would have a few weeks ago. 'I'm glad to hear that. You will get through this, Harry. I swear it.'
'Thanks.' This time, there was no sarcasm coloring his tone. Harry closed his eyes for a minute, and Snape left his hand on his shoulder; it was warm and . . . comforting. 'What do I call you?'
'I beg your pardon?'
Harry peered at him through the fringe of hair covering his eyes. 'Now that you're my Guardian. Do I still just call you Professor, or what?'
'In class, certainly, you should continue to call me Professor, as well around other students and faculty. As for when we're here . . . a modicum of leniency can be extended.'
'In English?'
A tiny twitch of the lip was followed by, 'You may call me Severus.'
Harry grinned. 'Not Sev?'
'Certainly not!'
Snape's horrified look was so complete that Harry had to laugh. 'Sorry!' he said when Snape scowled even more. 'But you looked . . .' Helplessly, he laughed again, and shrugged. 'It was funny.'
