3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 is finally up! I hope you all like it. Thanks for all your support so far.

Chapter 3

Harry was the first out of the floo and made a valiant effort to run up to his room as soon as he did. His problems with floo travel caused him to stumble though, and he slammed into the side table with quite a bit of force. He hissed a few curses under his breath and sort of half-jumped, half-stumbled towards the door once more when Snape came through, elegant as always.

When he saw Harry's predicament, he just raised that typical eyebrow like the smug, sadistic person he sometimes was.

"You really need to work on your floo travel," he said flatly, his lips quirked into a sardonic smile. "I can't have you destroying the furniture or your kneecaps every time we need to be somewhere. Now, where do you think you're going?"

"Upstairs," Harry replied quickly. The pain had already subsided into a dull throb. That would definitely leave a bruise. But nothing would be quite as painful as what Snape had planned so Harry made another attempt at moving upstairs.

"I think not," Snape said, stopping Harry in his tracks. "Have you already forgotten? You and I need to talk about some things."

"I haven't forgotten," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"I imagine you haven't," Snape replied evenly, sitting down in his personal armchair. "I also imagine that this is why you're trying to run from me."

Harry groaned loudly, still not moving from the doorway. "I'm seventeen years old! I know everything I need to know, already."

"Is that so?" Snape replied, "Would you mind sharing with me what you think you know?"

"Absolutely not," Harry said, shaking his head roughly.

Snape sighed heavily. "Sit down, Harry," he said in an authoritative kind of voice. Harry groaned again but did what was asked. He sat down as far away from Snape as he could, right near the edge of the couch just in case he needed an escape. To say that he felt embarrassed was an understatement. Snape, on the other hand, seemed as calm and collected as ever, sitting there leaned back into his chair, his hands clasped and resting in his lap while his dark obsidian eyes regarded Harry carefully but with certainty.

"I realize that this might be difficult for you to talk about," Snape said as Harry looked away, "But I also feel that it might still be important. I very much doubt that those muggles talked to you about anything and it's unfortunate to admit that our school system is severely lacking in educating our children about sex."

Harry exhaled exasperatedly, fidgeting with the edge of his robe. He didn't respond but he did glance over at Snape once or twice. Snape seemed undeterred and kept going mercilessly.

"You are a young adult and there is no doubt in my mind that your thoughts are often occupied by images of certain young ladies, one of which might be Ms Weasley?"

Harry leaned on his fist as he eyed the door but he did nod once. He kept crossing and uncrossing his legs and didn't really seem to know what to do with his arms. Where did he put them when he tried to relax? Wherever he left them, they were in the way. His cheeks felt hot and he had to swallow thickly.

"There's really no reason for you to get so worked up," Snape said calmly, "Everyone goes through what you're going through. It's only natural."

Harry did his best to relax. Snape was right, of course. He wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts about the opposite sex. And honestly, he probably wouldn't feel so elated if he talked about it with Ron or maybe Neville. But talking this over with Snape? Had Arthur had this talk with Ron? Did Hermione discuss this with her mother? How did they feel about it? Merlin, this was uncomfortable.

But Snape hadn't been teasing him nor had he smirked or grinned or done anything that made it seem as if he was having a laugh. The only one making this uncomfortable, really, had been Harry.

"I'm sorry, Severus," he said, trying to relax a little. "You're right."

Snape nodded, not pressing the issue any further.

"May I ask if you are indeed in a relationship with Ms Weasley?" Snape asked.

"I'm not sure," Harry confessed, "We've kissed a few times but –" he glanced up at Snape before glancing down again, "But we haven't discussed it further. So I guess not."

"Have you had intercourse before?" Snape asked as casually as he would ask about the weather, which Harry could appreciate but it did nothing to stop the embarrassment from rearing its ugly head once more.

"No," he said in a very small voice. He wasn't even sure if Snape had heard him but when he glanced up, he saw the man nod. Harry felt frustrated with himself. Where was his Gryffindor courage, dang it? He took a deep breath and lifted his head to look into Snape's eyes, not averting them again this time. Snape seemed to smile ever so slightly.

"The muggles have, of course, invented several types of protection for when they decide to finally take that step and you no doubt know about those already," Snape said calmly, "But it will please you to know that we, as wizards, have a spell that functions as both a contraceptive and as protection against any STI's."

Harry swallowed thickly. He hadn't known that. And now, he was sort of eager for Snape to explain more.

"I know you are probably too apprehensive to ask this yourself, but I will teach you the incantation."

If the talk up until this point had been embarrassing, it was nothing compared to practising the incantation to a contraceptive spell with Snape. Ron would probably be laughing his socks off at the mention of this moment, incanting some vile limerick to commemorate the occasion, no doubt.

Luckily for both of them, the incantation was easy enough to learn and Harry got it right after a few times.

"Now, the existence of this spell does not give you the right or privilege to go around Hogwarts and mating with everyone willing," Snape went on.

Harry slapped a hand in his face and dragged it downward as he groaned aloud. But Snape ignored it entirely.

"Do keep in mind that women are not simply beings that look nice and feel good. They too have feelings you need to take into account. Do not take advantage of them for if I hear anything of the sort, you will have me to deal with."

This time, Harry looked at Snape with a hint of righteous fury dancing in his eyes.

"Why would you even think that I would do such a thing?" he said, his voice more fuelled by embarrassment than anger.

"I don't believe you would do so consciously," Snape admitted, "But the battlefield that is teenage romance is littered with landmines and booby traps. I simply urge you to be careful. Is that something you can promise me?"

"Yes," Harry croaked under his breath.

"One last thing then, if I may," Snape said.

Harry felt that Snape had already taken enough liberties... He felt the strong urge to say that no, he indeed may not. But Snape would go ahead anyway and punish Harry for his cheek as well. So instead he just meekly nodded.

"Try and make your first time a special occasion when it comes to that. I advise you to not run into it haphazardly. There is nothing wrong with waiting for a bit if you don't feel you are ready."

Harry waited for a few more seconds but when Snape didn't add anything else to the conversation, he grumpily asked: "May I be excused?"

"You may," Snape replied easily, waving his hand towards the door.

As soon as Harry was given permission he bolted from the couch and all but ran upstairs, nearly tripping on the stairs twice in his eagerness to get away from the mortifying experience he just underwent.

"Harry, we will need to get you registered," Snape said the next morning at breakfast.

"Registered?"

"As my apprentice," Snape clarified, "We need to send your registration to the guild. I will need to keep them posted on your progress and results."

Harry frowned. "So there are more people than you to look over my shoulder?"

"Surely, you understand that your work will need to be assessed and evaluated by some sort of structure. Apprenticeship is not really covered by the Hogwarts curriculum and there are no exams to determine your grade."

"I thought you would just decide if I was good enough or not."

"Of course not," Snape said, "I alone am not the foremost authority in what and what is not considered a viable Magnum Opus. I will be part of the council at the end of it, but I will not be alone in this."

"It is quite simple, really," Snape explained, "I already drafted the document while you were hiding in your room yesterday –"

Harry flushed as he recalled the embarrassing conversation he had been forced to take part in.

"- and now all it requires is our signatures."

Snape produced a long sheet of parchment onto which a wall of text had been produced in a neat scrawl that was unmistakable Snape's. The header of the parchment portrayed a large symbol that was comprised of a mortar, pestle and a phial out of wich three drops were spilling. At the bottom of the parchment sat two large spots, indicated by their names, waiting to be signed. Harry was indicated as 'Harry James Potter; Apprentice whereas Snape was indicated as 'The esteemed and highly decorated Potions Master; Severus Snape. It seemed like a lot of extra nonsense surrounding Snape's name but it did make it all seem more official. Harry glanced over the text, not really understanding a whole lot of it, except that Snape would have the rights to his creations and any papers he might produce but he was also charged with teaching Harry what he knew, furthering his career. He was also supposed to provide Harry with housing, clothing, food and the likes but since he had already adopted Harry, that part of the text seemed unnecessary.

"I simply copied the text that's agreed upon by the guild," Snape clarified, "It is important to be as correct as possible when dealing with a practice that is – for lack of a batter term – still somewhat archaic. Oh, and speaking of archaic –" Snape fished a small blade out of his pocket, "- this document will have to be signed in blood."

"Well that's crude," Harry commented, "We're not making a pact with a demon or anything, are we?"

"Of course not, Harry," Snape sighed, "This is simply the way of the guilds. If you want to be an official apprentice, this is what needs to be done. You need to be bound to me in blood until such a time you are proclaimed a Master."

"And that might take years," Harry said flatly.

"Indeed," Snape replied curtly.

Harry thought it over but didn't think too much of it. Had this been any other Master of the trade, Harry might have declined altogether. After all, binding yourself to someone with blood didn't seem too straightforward and might even imply something darker. But Harry trusted Snape completely.

"Alright then," Harry finally answered. Snape nodded and proceeded to make a cut in his left palm, allowing some blood to fall into an empty inkwell. Once he deemed it enough, he dipped a quill into the blood and signed his name in wide, big lettering, ending in an elegant flourish.

"Your turn," Snape said, providing Harry with his own empty inkwell and the blade.

Without hesitation, Harry made the cut in his own left palm and did as Snape had done. His signature came out a lot more untidy and short. There were no flourishes or elegant calligraphic letters but it would do.

For a split second, a quick glow overcame the parchment but it was gone as fast as it had appeared. With a flick of his wand, Snape healed both his and Harry's incisions. Then he rolled up the parchment, tying it neatly with a thin ribbon and summoned an owl to deliver it for him.

"Take this to Master Lovegood, for me," he told the owl after which it took flight and disappeared through the window.

Harry quirked a curious eyebrow but said nothing.

"There," Snape told Harry, "We are all set for the following years. I'll be looking forward to working with you."

Harry snorted at the stiff manner of speech. "I look forward to learning from the best. Not that I haven't been doing that already for the last couple of years, but oh well."

"Don't get cheeky with me, apprentice," Snape said, "Or I'll have you doing nothing scrubbing cauldrons for the duration of the first year, if only to get some discipline into you."

Harry bowed exaggeratedly and grinned, "As you say, Master."

Snape snorted but said nothing in response. Instead, he flicked his wand, vanishing the leftover blood and quills and banishing the dishes to the sink.

"I'm expecting visitors," Snape said, "And I believe that it would be advisable for you to stay, if only for you to get a grasp on the more Slytherin of traits that a Potions Master sometimes needs."

"Okay," Harry said carefully, "Who's coming?"

There was a mischievous glint in Snape's eye. "Oh, you'll see," he said, "But I ask of you to not interfere into the conversation and to keep your reactions to a minimum."

"I'll…try?" Harry replied, not sure what he was getting himself into.

"See to it that you do," Snape said. He picked up the Daily Prophet, cutting off the conversation effectively as he scanned the articles.

Harry was sitting at the dining room table with a nearly blank piece of parchment in front of him. Snape was sitting across from him, reading a book. Whoever those mystery visitors were, they had not shown up yet but judging by Snape's calm demeanour, they were not late.

Harry refocused his attention on the task before him and frowned. What kind of potion did he want to create? What could be beneficial to the wizarding world?

He stared at the ceiling as he mulled it over. He thought about his own life. What had he himself been struggling with the most? He's had his fair share of difficulties, that's for sure, but what had been the hardest? His face fell somewhat when he realized just what that was.

The death of loved ones. Especially that of those he had never known. Not that the death of Sirius – or even Cedric – hadn't been hard to bear. In fact, it had very nearly destroyed him. But it still didn't compare to that long-lasting ache of longing he had always felt for his parents. The painful yearning that reared its ugly head every time he was reminded of the horrible faith that had befallen his parents. The thoughts about what could have been were hard enough, but that feeling of being alone had nearly driven Harry to kill himself a long time ago.

And while he was not alone anymore, there were still times that he missed his parents. He missed Sirius. He missed having a true family.

Harry sighed as he tapped the piece of parchment with the back of his quill, biting his lower lip as he thought. He was slightly embarrassed with how dark his thoughts had gotten all of a sudden but on the other hand, he felt that he might be on to something. After all, he was not the only one who had lost loved ones. He was not the only one who would have unfinished business with the deceased. How many people longed for just a few more minutes with those who passed away? How many people regretted those last words that had fallen between them?

Harry scribbled the base of this thoughts down.

Many people long for a connection to their dead loved ones. In some cases, this might help with their mental health.

Right. Now, what did he want to do about it? What did he want his potion to do? He brushed his lips with the feathery quill as he pondered. He was pulled sharply out of his reveries when the floo flared brightly and two people stepped out of the hearth, their red hair covered in ashes.

Both Fred and George Weasley shook their hair out, grinning sheepishly when their gazes fell on Snape and Harry.

"Hi, Harry! Hi, Severus!" they greeted in sync.

Snape frowned at the familiar address but didn't reprimand the boys.

"Mr's Weasley," he greeted curtly, "I received your owl this morning. It felt rather –" he smirked somewhat "-desperate."

"Desperate is right!" Fred exclaimed as he took a seat right next to Snape. George took the seat on the opposite of Fred.

"Severus, we have slept on it and our resolve has only grown," George explained.

"We need that potion," Fred argued, "Poetic Justice would fly off the shelves, we know it!"

"And it's not as if you have a whole lot of use for it," George said, "What do you even use it for besides occasionally punishing our baby brother? Don't get me wrong, it was hilarious! But we see greater things for your creation."

"Don't let it be forgotten and kept in the dark," Fred begged.

"How does twenty per cent sound?" Fred and George asked in unison.

Snape had listened to the twins in amusement, his lips twitching ever so slightly as if to hide a smile.

"I don't think you understand, gentlemen," Snape said, "I have no need for money. I am well off enough to live rather comfortably for the rest of my days."

"Aha!" Fred exclaimed, "No need for money you say –"

"- but perhaps you have need for something else?" George finished.

"There are many things a Potions Master such as me could want," Snape said evenly, "But most of those things can be bought or bargained for by myself. It's not something I could use two rambunctious Weasley twins for."

Fred and George looked at each other, a wide grin on both of their faces.

"You said 'most of those things'," Fred pointed out eagerly.

"That means that there are some things that you can't get your hands on," George said, nearly licking his lips in anticipation.

Snape folded his hands neatly in front of him and regarded the twins carefully.

"There is one thing," he admitted, "I suppose I could – oh, never mind. There is no way that two children such as yourself would be able to assist me in this manner."

"I hear someone underestimating us, Fred," George said loudly.

"It would appear so, George," Fred replied, shaking his head, "One would think that anyone who has dealt with us for so many years would know better."

"Try us, Severus," George said eagerly.

"Name your price and our reward," Fred followed up, nodding.

"Very well," Snape sighed heavily, "If you insist."

The twins glanced at each other with victory shining in their eyes before focusing their attention on Snape. Harry's presence seemed to have been all but forgotten.

"The thing I require is the ancient texts of Pythagoras," Snape said evenly, pausing for effect. The confused looks on the twins' faces indicated that they had no idea what Snape was talking about.

"It has come to my attention that these texts are currently hidden somewhere in the Library of Alexandria."

Snape smirked when he saw understanding in the eyes of both twins.

"Naturally, the library is not only defended by curses and traps that were placed there by the ancient Egyptians, but it is also guarded closely by a group of wizards called 'the Order of Anathema'. They've put several layers of protection in place that I doubt even Albus Dumbledore could breach."

He lifted his eyes to meet the twins' excited gazes.

"Do you now see how impossible this venture would be? Naturally, if you were able to get these texts, I would gladly give you the recipe for free, including the rights to them. But seeing how that will never happen –" Snape rose from his seat, standing to signify that it was time for the twins to leave, "- I can only thank you for coming and wish you luck in your further dealings."

"Now hold on right there, Severus," Fred said happily.

"We happen to have a brother that works in the Order of Anathema," George pointed out.

"Do you now?" Snape asked in surprise, "You must be speaking of William Weasley. I knew he was a curse-breaker but I didn't think he was stationed in Egypt."

"Ah, but he is," Fred said happily.

"Maybe we can surprise you yet!" George added.

"We shall pay our brother a little visit," Fred smirked, "Because we miss him so much, of course."

"And who knows," George shrugged, "If we should happen to encounter these texts of Pythagoras, why wouldn't we bring them back with us?"

Snape made a show of sighing in exasperation. "You're welcome to try but I don't think you can do it."

"How dareth thou doubt us," Fred said in a mock hurt tone of voice.

"We shall surely triumph in this epic quest thou hath bestowed upon us," George exclaimed.

"Fare thee well!" And with a flash of green fire, the twins disappeared from sight.

There were a few seconds of silence before Harry began a slow clap. Snape turned to him with a snarky grin on his face.

"I can't believe they fell for that," Harry said, "You played them the whole time, didn't you?"

"Did I?" Snape replied, "How could you accuse me of something so very…"

"Slytherin?" Harry pointed out.

"Indeed."

And another chapter has been written. Can you believe it? Where oh where is this story headed? What did you think? Please don't hesitate to review.