Chapter Text
"Why does he have to be such a bloody bastard all of the time?!" Harry all but growled this as he, Ron, and Hermione climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor dormitories.
Harry knew Snape would never actually like him for all their history, but he had hoped after the war that Snape would at least try for some change in attitude, minimal or not.
"Harry, you know even with everything he did to protect you, he did it grudgingly. You can't expect him to suddenly start treating you like a friend or something." Hermione shook her head and called out the password to enter the common room.
"Yeah, but 'Mione, he could at least not act like the war never happened! I mean he's still giving out detentions to Harry like he always did! As if Harry doesn't know the history now. You know..with his parents and all."
"Exactly. Maybe that is Professor Snape's way of shielding himself. He can't find any of this easy. Coming back to teaching like he didn't almost die and just think about how hard it must be for him that Harry knows all about how difficult his own childhood was! Professor Snape was always so private, wasn't he?"
Harry and Ron caught each other's eye behind Hermione. This wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation and rather than argue with Hermione, both hummed their response and Ron quickly changed the subject. Harry didn't pay much attention to direction of their conversation after that. He couldn't stop thinking that maybe Hermione had a point. He remembered his failed legilimancy lessons with Snape very clearly. Snape had looked like he was torn between throwing up and hexing him when Harry had seen Snape being bullied by none other than his father and god-father. He quickly shook off that thought though. Is wasn't as though Snape didn't see some rather embarrassing things from Harry's own mind as well. Not to mention they'd both survived a war. If Snape was still dwelling on all that, then Harry would have to resign himself to continue to pay for the sins of ghosts.
Hours later, Harry was on his way to detention when he ran into Headmistress McGonagall. She seemed harried as she directed a few first years to her office.
"Oh Mister Potter, on your way to yet another detention?" Harry gave a small smile and shrug as if to say 'what can you do'. McGonagall pursed her lips as the first years stared at him wide-eyed. "Very well, off you go." He hurried away. Not that he was anxious to spend more time in Snape's presence, but he was already tired of the hero-worship he was treated to around the younger students. That was one reason Harry opted to return to Hogwarts for an unheard of eighth year. He was trying to avoid the stares and constant thank-you's outside the walls of the school. He still got it here, but not as much. He still hoped the younger students would adjust to seeing him around and the novelty would wear off. Before the war, Harry had wanted to be an Auror, but now, he felt sick if he thought about putting himself in constant danger. He'd spent his childhood in danger, often unknowingly. He wanted to have time to figure out what sort of work he now wanted to go into. He hadn't told anyone but Ron and Hermione. They were both supportive, for which Harry was thankful.
"Daydreaming again, Potter?"
With a heavy sigh, Harry looked up into the endless dark eyes. Snape looked unimpressed and motioned for Harry to enter his classroom. Despite the DADA job no longer being cursed, Snape went back to teaching Potions. It seemed that after the war, Snape also lost interest in that sort of thing, something he and Harry had in common. As Harry following Snape towards the potion pantry, he tripped over Snape's cloak and heard a tear. Immediately, Snape whirled around with a look of contempt and vitriol. "Do NOT step on my fucking cloak, Potter!"
"I'm sorry sir! It was an accident!" Harry backed up until he was near the exit in case Snape came at him. He wouldn't put it past the bastard to send a hex at him when really it was Snapes' own fault for having a ridiculously large cloak just so he could dramatically enter and exit rooms. He'd compare him to Lockwood, but even Harry could grudgingly say Snape at least had the ability to match the ridiculous drama.
"Another detention Potter. Tomorrow night!" Harry's eyes rounded and he began to yell that this was really Snape's fault, not his, when Professor McGonagall appeared in a rush at the door.
"Oh Severus, good, I am in need of your assistance please. You too, Potter."