Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

think not. Not today, at any rate. How about Pepper Up?'

Sounded good to Harry.

--WHELP II--

The next day, after one of Daddy's classes, he was followed into his office by Rose Parkinson. '. . . my first NEWT year,' she was saying, 'I was hoping to have a terrific base in Potions, Professor Snape. I had heard you got your Mastery, and at such a young age, too! My parents were, of course, thrilled to hear it, too, though my father doubted anyone could really master such a topic in so short a time . . .'

Father's tone was icy when he replied, 'I'm sure they were thrilled, Miss Parkinson. I certainly hope you can live up to their excitement. It has been my experience that students with the greatest potential will succeed when the tools to do the work are available, and Potions is hard work, no getting around it. The rest often will not, no matter the circumstances.'

Rose's face reddened and she mumbled something about being chock full of potential before leaving Daddy's office.

Harry looked up from the small desk and chair he had been provided with, in the area behind his father's bigger desk. 'She's the one I found the snake with, Daddy, remember?'

Daddy looked almost taken aback, as if he had forgotten all about the asp he and Tree had found. Harry had not seen that snake again, even though Daddy took him outside after classes each afternoon, so he could play before dinner. But he had found other snakes. One even came out of a hole near the back of Daddy's office. He liked talking to them and finding out even more about the castle. The snakes had been so many places!

But then Daddy nodded slowly, his face blank, and said, 'I do, Harry. Hush now, for a bit, while I correct some essays, and then we'll go outside,' he said. But he stared at the doorway through which Rose had gone for a minute, before coming back to his desk and sitting down.

Harry bent his head over his penmanship again. He smiled to himself as he traced his name over and over on the thin piece of parchment. The parchment was smoother under his fingers than plain paper, but harder to write on. Daddy had helped him learn how to get most of the drippy ink off the quill before trying to write, and taught him how best to hold the quill to have good control over his letters. Harry's writing was much less blotchy now, and his letters and numbers were far straighter, too. Aunt Molly, if he ever had to go back to her again, would be pleased.

But Harry didn't want to go to the Weasleys again. He liked them all right, and he kind of missed playing with Ron, but he liked learning from his father more, with his big words and kindly near-smiles and the blinking green and silver stars he magicked onto the top of Harry's papers when he did a good job with his writing or sums. Harry liked sitting in Daddy's office while Daddy taught his classes next door and listening to him lecture. He was as close to his father as he could be. And when Daddy returned to his office with his own papers to grade or lessons to prepare, Harry was quiet as a mouse so Daddy could concentrate. He knew how to be quiet and out of the way. It was of the things he did best.

Not that Daddy was anything like the Dursleys; he wouldn't hurt Harry if Harry wasn't quiet. Not at all. But his father seemed to really appreciate it when he had uninterrupted time to study and work. He didn't have that stressed look in his eyes when Harry gave him time each day before asking for anything. Besides, Harry was used to never asking for anything anyway. He also knew when quiet and out of the way were the best things to do, and he did those very well. During Daddy's classes, for instance, Harry could hear his low, smooth voice in the next room quite well, and sometimes, when it got too muted in there, Harry could tiptoe to the door and peek out to make sure his father was still there.

Harry wouldn't do anything that might keep him from being able to stay near Daddy all the time, like he wanted. He certainly didn't want Mr. Black to take him away again, and he never ever wanted to be taken back to the Dursleys. As long as he was with Daddy, he was all right. Everything was all right.

At night, though . . . the nights were very bad.

Harry had a hard time falling asleep because he knew Daddy would leave him alone then, and he did not want to be alone. Alone was when the bad man came and stole him away. Alone at night was when the dreams came, about Uncle Vernon catching him eating biscuits that were meant for Dudders, or being out of the cupboard after hours. Alone was frightening.

Having Treacle Tart in his bed helped some, but not much, since she was so small. She couldn't stop the bad man, just slow him down. She couldn't keep the dreams away like Daddy could.

So rather than fall asleep, Harry tried