Harry Potter One Shots

(3) The Cupboard

All rights belong to the author, enahma

"I really don't know," he answered sincerely. "I really don't think I'm good enough for those advanced lessons... Perhaps you should give me some Remedial Potions so you can decide whether to accept me into that class or not."

"That's a deal, Mr Potter." A few moments later, he added. "I was worried in the summer, when you just... didn't fight to attend this class. It was so highly unlike you..."

Harry shifted uneasily, but snuck a glance at his professor nevertheless.

"It was a good excuse that you refused to take me..." Harry murmured and gulped. "I blamed you for... for Sirius's death..."

Snape's cheeks reddened, but he didn't erupt.

"I see," he croaked instead.

"I don't blame you now." Harry stared at his lap, grateful to Snape for not yelling at him. "In reality, I knew it was my fault, and Sirius's fault too... but mostly mine. I didn't take our lessons as seriously as I should have to..."

"Damn true!" Snape cried out and Harry jerked.

"I'm sorry," Harry felt the effects of the Calming Draught lessening again and his voice trembled. "It was my fault..."

But then, a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him forcefully.

"Potter, look at me!" Snape ordered in an authoritative manner and Harry complied. "It's true that you didn't take our lessons as seriously as you needed to. But the other things weren't solely your fault. Dumbledore made his mistakes as much as I did mine. Black's death is our fault too, and even Black's fault, because he, as an adult, should have been more insightful and mature, but he was always..." Snape suddenly caught himself and didn't finish the sentence. "You can't be blamed for an adult's deeds. You have your own responsibilities, which you should take more seriously – even now. You quit Potions. But you quit Occlumency too, although even with Black's death the problem with the Dark Lord being in your mind wasn't solved. And your grades... and that lurking in the Astronomy Tower..." he sneered again. "Dumbledore worried sick about you and you behaved even more like a drama queen with that indignant... Sorry," he interrupted himself again.

"No, sir, you're right..." Harry said and his breath hitched painfully.

Snape's face darkened in annoyance.

"You shouldn't have been left alone during the whole summer to grieve and stomach those things in your own." He stood up and began to pace. "I see what Albus's point was with leaving you with your family, mostly now that the war has officially begun, but then again, it's obvious you didn't handle last year's happenings well..."

Harry felt as if he were a little child and annoyance swirled in him, but he swallowed it back hard. He didn't want another confrontation or to risk their brand new civility just because he thought he was more mature than Snape gave him credit for. And basically, the professor was right: he hadn't digested Sirius's death on the top of all that had happened to him last year, and this year's misfortune and emptiness were the direct consequences of them.

So, he just sat in silence listening to Snape's grumbling.

"Well," the man seemed to finish his half-reprimanding speech and stopped in front of Harry. "I think we should give those Remedial Potions another go."

"Do you mean Potions or Occlumency, sir?" Harry asked confused.

"Potions, of course. I don't think I'm the most appropriate person to teach you Occlumency, Potter," Snape's eyes glittered coldly. "I told Dumbledore the same last year. Some level of trust is needed for those lessons to be effective on your behalf. That was one of the many reasons for last year's absolute ineffectiveness: we both distrusted each other. I think you should go and ask the Headmaster for those Occlumency lessons."