That Summer, That Girl

As a master of Occlumency and a man who had gone undercover under Voldemort, Snape had always kept his emotions under perfect control, never letting the slightest bit show.

But he had never expected that when he revealed the secret he had buried in his heart for years to the son of the girl he had once loved, in the form of flower language, he would seemingly... be seen through on the spot?

Snape's face remained expressionless, but turmoil raged within him.

How could this eleven-year-old boy understand Victorian Flower Language?

With that question in mind, Snape met Harry's pair of green eyes.

Those eyes...

"Severus~"

By the clear lake, a red-haired girl stood there with a book in her arms. Her beautiful green eyes, capable of both delight and anger, curved into lovely crescents.

The weather was bright that day, and sunlight draped over the girl, making her seem all the more lively and adorable.

Upon hearing her voice, Snape nervously stuffed the Dark Magic Book in his hands into his robes.

But in his panic, the book fell to the ground.

"Severus, you're studying Dark Arts again!" Lily picked up the book and looked at Snape, biting her lip. Her bright eyes brimmed with sorrow. "Dark Arts can affect a wizard's soul. Professor Dumbledore warned us about that before. Are you going to become like..."

"That's enough, Lily." Snape lowered his head. "I hope you can understand me. I just want to..."

"To leave a good impression on that person? You know what he stands for, don't you?" Lily's tone was mocking, then she said sadly, "Severus, you once promised me... You've disappointed me so much!"

"Lily, I..." Snape opened his mouth to defend himself, but when the words reached his lips, he could not say them.

Lily fiercely flung the copy of "Whispers in Petals" in her hand at Snape, then ran away without looking back.

Countless times, Snape had awoken from dreams with a start in the middle of the night.

Only that copy of "Whispers in Petals" could bring the slightest comfort to his heart.

That was right. Lily was this boy's mother...

Just as he sank into memories of Lily, he suddenly noticed Harry's face.

It was exactly like that arrogant, conceited face!

The heart that had begun to thaw instantly froze over again.

Potter!

"Gryffindor... loses two points." Snape remained expressionless, his drawling tone unchanged. "For your cleverness."

With that, Snape flicked his robes and swept back to the lectern.

"Harry!" Hermione asked quietly, "Why did you say that? God, I thought Professor Snape was the one who couldn't answer the question."

Harry raised his eyebrows but did not answer Hermione's question.

He was somewhat confused himself. What was wrong with this professor?

If you're miserable, then be miserable, but Gryffindor is innocent. Why are you taking points from us?

However, he soon learned that Snape had already been going easy on him.

Potions Class was different from Herbology. Professor Snape had no intention of making them study theory first. Instead, he intended to have them learn the relevant knowledge while carrying out practical work.

Snape divided the classmates into pairs and instructed them to mix and brew a simple potion called Boil-Curing Potion.

While the students worked busily, Snape paced around the classroom in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. Nearly every student was criticized, except Harry.

It was not that Snape did not want to find fault with Harry. Rather, he had stood in front of Harry for more than ten minutes and failed to find a single flaw. Every step was practically perfect.

It's only Itch-Cure Potion, Harry thought. If you wanted me to brew Felix Felicis on the spot, I could do that too.

By the time Harry expertly poured the finished Itch-Cure Potion into a bottle, Snape finally gave his evaluation with a complicated expression.

"Very good. For a first-year's standard, it is passable."

Ron looked as though he had seen a ghost. He lowered his head sharply and did not dare raise it, lest Snape notice his expression.

If the professor caught him, losing ten points would be the least of it.

Harry looked up. He did not know whether he had seen wrongly, but Professor Snape's expression seemed to soften for an instant.

Just as he was about to say something, a cloud of acidic green smoke suddenly rose from nearby, accompanied by a loud hissing sound.

It was Neville. Somehow, he had boiled Seamus's cauldron into a warped, misshapen lump. The potion inside spilled across the stone floor, burning holes through the students' shoes.

Within seconds, the entire class was standing on their stools. When the cauldron overturned, Neville had been drenched in potion, and now red, swollen boils covered his arms and legs. He howled in pain.

"Idiot!" Snape roared, waving his wand to clear away the spilled potion. "I suppose you put the Porcupine quills in before taking the cauldron off the fire, didn't you, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville sobbed. Being splashed with unfinished Itch-Cure Potion was no pleasant experience; the result was a mass of boils growing wherever it touched.

"Weasley! Why didn't you tell him not to add the Porcupine quills?" Snape snapped at Ron. "Do you think his mistake makes you look impressive? Because of you, Gryffindor will lose three points!"

Actually, Ron and Neville were not partners. Ron was paired with Harry, while Neville had been working beside them.

Though Ron had suffered an undeserved disaster this time, he did not seem surprised at all. He calmly accepted Snape's baseless fault-finding.

Keeping one's head down preserved peace. That was the wisdom Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, and George had all concluded from Potions Class, and they had passed it on to Ron before School Opening.

Harry sometimes wondered whether every Potions professor harbored immeasurable hostility toward Gryffindor, especially anyone named Weasley.

Professor Sharpe had often targeted Gareth as well—though that had something to do with Gareth's less-than-clean hands and his habit of sneaking potion ingredients out.

Thus, the Itch-Cure Potion Harry had brewed was ruthlessly requisitioned by Snape. When it was poured over Neville's afflicted areas, the boils vanished at a visible speed.

Harry rested his chin in both hands, half his face hidden behind them, and sighed helplessly.

He always felt that Snape was deeply strange. Driven by curiosity, he decided he would ask Hagrid about it later and find out what was going on.

After all, Hagrid had been Hogwarts's Keeper of Keys and Grounds for so many years and had been good friends with Father and Mother. There was no reason he would not know what had happened between them.