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"You might be labouring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you," Snape went on, so quietly that no one else could hear him (Harry continued to pound his scarab beetles, even though he had already reduced them to a very fine powder), "but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me, Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him."

Harry tipped the powdered beetles into his cauldron and started cutting up his ginger roots. His hands were shaking slightly out of anger, but he kept his eyes down, as though he couldn't hear what Snape was saying to him.

"So I give you fair warning, Potter," Snape continued, in a softer and more dangerous voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not—if I catch you breaking into my office one more time—"

"I haven't been anywhere near your office!" Harry said angrily, forgetting his feigned deafness.

"Don't lie to me," Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into Harry's. "Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."

Harry stared back at Snape, determined not to blink, or to look guilty. In truth, he hadn't stolen either of these things from Snape. Hermione had taken the Boomslang skin back in their second year—they had needed it for the Polyjuice Potion—and while Snape had suspected Harry at the time, he had never been able to prove it. Dobby, of course, had stolen the Gillyweed.

"I don't know what you're taking about," Harry lied coldly.

"You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!" Snape hissed. "I know it, Potter! Now, Mad-Eye Moody might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behavior! One more night-time stroll into my office, Potter, and you will pay!"

"Right," said Harry coolly, turning back to his ginger roots, "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."

Snape's eyes flashed. He plunged a hand into the inside of his black robes. For one wild moment, Harry thought Snape was about to pull out his wand and curse him—then he saw that Snape had drawn out a small bottle of completely clear potion. Harry stared at it.

"Do you know what this is, Potter?" Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously again.

"No," said Harry, with complete honesty this time.

"It is Veritaserum—a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear," said Snape viciously. "Now, the use of this potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might find

my hand slips—" he shook the crystal bottle slightly"—right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then, Potter… then we'll find out whether you've been in my office or not."

Harry was furious; he'd had enough of this, enough of Snape's harassment and accusations. "Fine. Alright, fine I'll do it. I'll take it after class and you can quiz me all you like!" Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

Snape (who was walking away) turned around, now very interested in what Harry had to say. "What was that, Potter?"

"I said that I would take the Truth Potion after class and you can interrogate me. Then you will know, and maybe then you'll leave me alone. Sir," Harry growled.

"How very interesting, Mr. Potter. I look forward to it." And with that, Snape left to intimidate other students.

Harry watched Snape retreat, his fear rising. What had he just done? He was in so much trouble—and worse—other people might suffer for this! Damn it! Harry was still slicing his ginger roots, hands shaking with fear and panic. He put the knife down, took a deep breath, let it out, and tried to regain his composure and think. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad. After all, if Snape tried to use the information he learned against him... He did admit that Veritaserum was not supposed to be used without permission—if Snape told anyone he would be revealing himself too… So maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It would be humiliating—but hopefully have no long-term harm. Harry could only hope nobody else got hurt or in trouble because of this. He picked the knife up and went back to work.

"Mr Potter, stay after class. The rest of you, go," his tone left no argument. Ron and Hermione whispered their goodbyes before leaving. They left with a final look behind them, both worried for Harry.

"You may regret this later, Potter. There is no escaping the truth when under Veritaserum," Snape sounded delighted to get his answers. "Here you are, Potter," he gave the small bottle to Harry, who stuck out his tongue and allowed three drops to fall.

"Hmm."

"What is it, Potter?" Snape asked.

"I thought it would taste funny," Harry answered immediately, and of course, truthfully. He felt very strange; light-headed, and slow (in a dream-like way), but he tried mentally shaking the drowsiness.

"Veritaserum is completely odorless and tasteless. Now, onto more pressing matters. Did you steal anything from my private stores?"

"No," Harry answered, looking Snape straight in the eyes.

"Do you know who did?" Snape said in a very cold tone.

"Yes," Harry said, trying not to give information unless it was directly asked of him.

"Oh, come now, Potter. Don't think you can avoid me. So, who stole from me?"

"A house-elf named Dobby. I'm sure he thought he was helping me." Harry hoped that Snape would assume that Dobby was behind both thefts.

Snape was genuinely surprised, "A house-elf? And why would he want to help you?"

"He used to belong to the Malfoys but I helped free him. Ever since, he has tried doing things for me. He's strange; even for a house elf." Harry felt bad for throwing Dobby under the proverbial bus like that, but he really didn't want Hermione to get into trouble.

Snape was silent; he was thinking rapidly, but his thoughts were interrupted.

"Sir, may I please go now?"

"No, Potter, you may not leave. As a matter of fact, you stay here—right there, Potter, and don't you dare move." Snape's glare could not be argued with.

Harry did not intend on moving from his spot. If Snape returned and asked him if he had, he would be obligated to be honest. Snape was right; he was regretting this, but it was too late now. He was in deep. Harry wondered where Snape was going, but he did not ask; he sensed it was a bad time to ask questions.

Snape went to his private quarters to look for potions. He took a Calming Draught off the shelf and held it. Would he need it for himself, or Mr Potter? How far was he willing to take this? Had he gone far enough, or too far? He put the draught back; he could push him a little further. He took a small vial of a weaker Calming Draught off the shelf and put it in a pocket of his robe; incidentally, next to the Truth Potion.

Snape returned a moment later. "Did you move from your spot, Mr Potter?" Snape doubted it, but wanted to see if the potion was still working.

"No, sir."

"Did you put your name in the goblet?"

"No, sir. I didn't, and I don't know who did." Snape didn't like the answer, but couldn't argue; he knew it was the truth. Potter really didn't put his name in the goblet. Which now begged the question: who did and why? Somebody really did want Potter in danger (it wasn't just the boy's stupid need to show off). Again, why would someone plot against him…? "Potter, sit down," Snape pointed to a chair in front of his desk.

Harry did as he was told without a sound (a nice change in Snape's opinion). "Potter, I now know that you did not enter your own name, so there really is a threat on your life. Whoever did this will not stop until their goal—which is probably murder—is carried out."

"What are you saying, sir?" Harry shifted in his seat.

"What I am saying, is that…" Snape took in a deep breath and let it out, not believing what he was about to say. "I will be looking out for you, Potter, and I will do my best to keep you from harm."

Harry was stunned, truly unable to say anything for many long seconds. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much," it was said in a breathless whisper.

"Do not thank me, Mr Potter. I, as a teacher and an adult, have a duty to protect any students from harm."

"Okay. Yes, sir."

"Potter, how did you free Black?" Snape snapped as if trying to catch Harry by surprise.

Harry was stunned, but not really of course, since he was obligated to answer truthfully. "With permission from the Ministry of Magic, Hermione was given a Time Tuner from Professor McGonagall, to use to complete her extra classes. We used it—we as in Hermione and me—to go back in time to save Sirius and Buckbeak—Hagrid's hippogriff—who was doomed to be executed because he rightfully attacked Malfoy. When time ran out, we were back in our hospital beds before you and Professor Dumbledore came in, and of course, it seemed like we were in our beds the whole time."

This was a lot to take in for Snape, who was—for the first time in many years—overwhelmed into silence. He had always known "The Golden Trio" were behind it, or at least two of the three. He had assumed that Black had stolen the hippogriff, but he never would have guessed that time travel was involved. What were they thinking? Giving a student a Time Turner!

Harry was grateful for the silence at first, but in the silence, had time to think. What was going to happen next? What was Snape going to ask next? Harry was growing more and more uncertain, but he had no option but to sit there and answer Snape's questions.

"Why didn't Mr Weasley help in this crusade to free Black?" Snape was now suspicious Ron had his own agenda to fulfil.

"His leg was broken; we had to leave him behind. Sirius was trying to take him to the Whomping Willow, and when Ron tried to get away, he broke his leg."

Not very interesting, Snape thought dully.

"Where is the hippogriff now?"

"With Sirius, sir, and I don't know where he is."

"Mr Potter, are you spoiled by your relatives?" Snape wanted more than anything for Harry to admit that he had a privileged, pampered life with the muggles.

"No, sir, we do not get along. Or like each other at all."

Damn. Well, so much for that, Snape thought. "I need more detail than that, Potter."

"I do most of the chores, but overall I am ignored, or fighting to get Hedwig, my owl, to be allowed out to fly and hunt." Harry did not want to tell Snape anymore, his relatives were a touchy subject.

"More details than that. When you say 'most of the chores', what do you mean?" Snape was pressing hard. He was interested about Harry's avoidance.

"I almost always do all the chores inside and outside the house. Unless they want to ignore me and pretend I don't exist; then I'm expected to stay out of sight and Aunt Petunia does the housework." This was hard to understand, as Harry had tried very hard to stay quiet, but it was futile, and was just fuel to the fire.

What is he trying to hide from me? "How much time do you give your homework? Do they give you time to do it?" If not, then that would explain why it was always terrible quality.

"They lock my school things away so I have to do my homework in secret. I do my homework in my room, under the covers so they won't see the light from the flashlight. I pick the lock and put it all back on the last day so they don't notice."

That's rather resourceful, but not enough information. "Potter, you fool, why didn't you tell anyone that they keep your things from you? You need your books and your supplies to do your homework. It's no wonder the homework assigned over the summer holidays is particularly terrible. And you know it's illegal to do magic outside of school," Snape did his best to glower; he was very successful.

Harry could not think of anything to say at first, and felt very angry about being reprimanded about illegal activity. The 'why didn't you tell anyone…' part seemed like a rhetorical question, but Harry was still magically obligated to answer. "I didn't think…"

"Of course you didn't!" Snape was very tired of this boy's inability to think ahead, or ask for help.

"What magic did I do outside of school?" Harry was ready to defend himself.

"Did you use magic to pick the lock?"

"No, I used the muggle way," Harry mumbled.

"Where did you learn to do that, Mr. Potter? Who taught you how to pick the lock the muggle way? It's certainly not taught here at Hogwarts," Snape was being extra snarky.

"Fred and George Weasley."

"As I thought. Does Professor McGonagall know about this?" He really and truly, with all his heart, doubted it.

"No, sir, she does not know," Harry said with his head down, embarrassed.

"Then she will know, and together, she and I will write to your relatives; they will not lock your school things away ever again. And next time, Potter, with something as important as your school work, please find the time to tell someone who can actually do something about it," Snape said this in a lazy, this-is-beneath-me, sort of way.

"Thank you, sir. It seems obvious now."

"Because it always has been obvious, Mr Potter," Snape sneered.

"Yes, sir."

"Your Aunt Petunia is your mother's sister, correct?" Snape knew this to be a fact, but he had his reasons to keep that from Harry.

"That is correct, sir," Harry answered. He was curious as to why Snape thought that was relevant, but again, he didn't feel it was a good time to ask questions.

"Do you have a cousin? What is his name? What is he like?"

"His name is Dudley. He is a bully, but I can stay out of his way."

"Does he bully you?" Snape felt a touch of anger.

"Not anymore. He can't catch me anymore," Harry was avoiding Snape's gaze.

This is going to be a very long letter; I have so much to tell those muggles. "You may leave now, Mr Potter," Snape sounded oddly defeated and exhausted.

"Yes, sir. Sir? How long will this last—the truth potion?" Harry was feeling very worried it would last all day.

Snape sneered a little, "Another hour, Mr Potter."

Harry did not move, "Ah, sir, could I please stay here?"

"Why would you want to do that, Potter?" His eyes narrowed with suspicion, not thinking of the obvious.

"Well, I don't want to be forced to tell the truth to my friends and peers, and frankly, you don't either, sir. You don't want me to admit that I allowed you to interrogate me under the effects of Veritaserum," Harry said with a smile that was knowing and smug.

It sounded to Snape a bit like there was a threat among the facts, "Alright, Potter. But you're not to laze about; you're to work by cleaning cauldrons and wiping down the tables."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and went straight to work while Snape went to his desk to grade papers.

Harry not only washed the cauldrons used from his most recent class, but all the cauldrons in the classroom; there were a lot, it looked like enough for the whole school. His arms were good and tired now, but he had to clean the tables. When the tables were done, Snape came over and inspected his work.

"Alright, Potter, the hour is up. You may leave now."

"Okay. Goodbye, Professor."

"Just a minute. Just to make sure—lie to me."

"Um, ah. Hmm..."

"Come on, Potter, you can think of something to say," Snape glowered.

"Draco Malfoy is my best mate," Harry was actually smiling.

Snape smiled, "Alright, leave."

"Bye," and with that, Harry ran like his life depended on it.

"Five points to Gryffindor," Snape said to the dark dungeon.

Description
"You might be labouring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you," Snape went on, so quietly that no one else could hear him (Harry continued to pound his scarab beetles, even though he had already reduced them to a very fine powder), "but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me, Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him."

Harry tipped the powdered beetles into his cauldron and started cutting up his ginger roots. His hands were shaking slightly out of anger, but he kept his eyes down, as though he couldn't hear what Snape was saying to him.

"So I give you fair warning, Potter," Snape continued, in a softer and more dangerous voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not—if I catch you breaking into my office one more time—"

"I haven't been anywhere near your office!" Harry said angrily, forgetting his feigned deafness.

"Don't lie to me," Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into Harry's. "Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."

Harry stared back at Snape, determined not to blink, or to look guilty. In truth, he hadn't stolen either of these things from Snape. Hermione had taken the Boomslang skin back in their second year—they had needed it for the Polyjuice Potion—and while Snape had suspected Harry at the time, he had never been able to prove it. Dobby, of course, had stolen the Gillyweed.

"I don't know what you're taking about," Harry lied coldly.

"You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!" Snape hissed. "I know it, Potter! Now, Mad-Eye Moody might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behavior! One more night-time stroll into my office, Potter, and you will pay!"

"Right," said Harry coolly, turning back to his ginger roots, "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."

Snape's eyes flashed. He plunged a hand into the inside of his black robes. For one wild moment, Harry thought Snape was about to pull out his wand and curse him—then he saw that Snape had drawn out a small bottle of completely clear potion. Harry stared at it.

"Do you know what this is, Potter?" Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously again.

"No," said Harry, with complete honesty this time.

"It is Veritaserum—a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear," said Snape viciously. "Now, the use of this potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might find

my hand slips—" he shook the crystal bottle slightly"—right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then, Potter… then we'll find out whether you've been in my office or not."

Harry was furious; he'd had enough of this, enough of Snape's harassment and accusations. "Fine. Alright, fine I'll do it. I'll take it after class and you can quiz me all you like!" Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

Snape (who was walking away) turned around, now very interested in what Harry had to say. "What was that, Potter?"

"I said that I would take the Truth Potion after class and you can interrogate me. Then you will know, and maybe then you'll leave me alone. Sir," Harry growled.

"How very interesting, Mr. Potter. I look forward to it." And with that, Snape left to intimidate other students.

Harry watched Snape retreat, his fear rising. What had he just done? He was in so much trouble—and worse—other people might suffer for this! Damn it! Harry was still slicing his ginger roots, hands shaking with fear and panic. He put the knife down, took a deep breath, let it out, and tried to regain his composure and think. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad. After all, if Snape tried to use the information he learned against him... He did admit that Veritaserum was not supposed to be used without permission—if Snape told anyone he would be revealing himself too… So maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It would be humiliating—but hopefully have no long-term harm. Harry could only hope nobody else got hurt or in trouble because of this. He picked the knife up and went back to work.

"Mr Potter, stay after class. The rest of you, go," his tone left no argument. Ron and Hermione whispered their goodbyes before leaving. They left with a final look behind them, both worried for Harry.

"You may regret this later, Potter. There is no escaping the truth when under Veritaserum," Snape sounded delighted to get his answers. "Here you are, Potter," he gave the small bottle to Harry, who stuck out his tongue and allowed three drops to fall.

"Hmm."

"What is it, Potter?" Snape asked.

"I thought it would taste funny," Harry answered immediately, and of course, truthfully. He felt very strange; light-headed, and slow (in a dream-like way), but he tried mentally shaking the drowsiness.

"Veritaserum is completely odorless and tasteless. Now, onto more pressing matters. Did you steal anything from my private stores?"

"No," Harry answered, looking Snape straight in the eyes.

"Do you know who did?" Snape said in a very cold tone.

"Yes," Harry said, trying not to give information unless it was directly asked of him.

"Oh, come now, Potter. Don't think you can avoid me. So, who stole from me?"

"A house-elf named Dobby. I'm sure he thought he was helping me." Harry hoped that Snape would assume that Dobby was behind both thefts.

Snape was genuinely surprised, "A house-elf? And why would he want to help you?"

"He used to belong to the Malfoys but I helped free him. Ever since, he has tried doing things for me. He's strange; even for a house elf." Harry felt bad for throwing Dobby under the proverbial bus like that, but he really didn't want Hermione to get into trouble.

Snape was silent; he was thinking rapidly, but his thoughts were interrupted.

"Sir, may I please go now?"

"No, Potter, you may not leave. As a matter of fact, you stay here—right there, Potter, and don't you dare move." Snape's glare could not be argued with.

Harry did not intend on moving from his spot. If Snape returned and asked him if he had, he would be obligated to be honest. Snape was right; he was regretting this, but it was too late now. He was in deep. Harry wondered where Snape was going, but he did not ask; he sensed it was a bad time to ask questions.

Snape went to his private quarters to look for potions. He took a Calming Draught off the shelf and held it. Would he need it for himself, or Mr Potter? How far was he willing to take this? Had he gone far enough, or too far? He put the draught back; he could push him a little further. He took a small vial of a weaker Calming Draught off the shelf and put it in a pocket of his robe; incidentally, next to the Truth Potion.

Snape returned a moment later. "Did you move from your spot, Mr Potter?" Snape doubted it, but wanted to see if the potion was still working.

"No, sir."

"Did you put your name in the goblet?"

"No, sir. I didn't, and I don't know who did." Snape didn't like the answer, but couldn't argue; he knew it was the truth. Potter really didn't put his name in the goblet. Which now begged the question: who did and why? Somebody really did want Potter in danger (it wasn't just the boy's stupid need to show off). Again, why would someone plot against him…? "Potter, sit down," Snape pointed to a chair in front of his desk.

Harry did as he was told without a sound (a nice change in Snape's opinion). "Potter, I now know that you did not enter your own name, so there really is a threat on your life. Whoever did this will not stop until their goal—which is probably murder—is carried out."

"What are you saying, sir?" Harry shifted in his seat.

"What I am saying, is that…" Snape took in a deep breath and let it out, not believing what he was about to say. "I will be looking out for you, Potter, and I will do my best to keep you from harm."

Harry was stunned, truly unable to say anything for many long seconds. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much," it was said in a breathless whisper.

"Do not thank me, Mr Potter. I, as a teacher and an adult, have a duty to protect any students from harm."

"Okay. Yes, sir."

"Potter, how did you free Black?" Snape snapped as if trying to catch Harry by surprise.

Harry was stunned, but not really of course, since he was obligated to answer truthfully. "With permission from the Ministry of Magic, Hermione was given a Time Tuner from Professor McGonagall, to use to complete her extra classes. We used it—we as in Hermione and me—to go back in time to save Sirius and Buckbeak—Hagrid's hippogriff—who was doomed to be executed because he rightfully attacked Malfoy. When time ran out, we were back in our hospital beds before you and Professor Dumbledore came in, and of course, it seemed like we were in our beds the whole time."

This was a lot to take in for Snape, who was—for the first time in many years—overwhelmed into silence. He had always known "The Golden Trio" were behind it, or at least two of the three. He had assumed that Black had stolen the hippogriff, but he never would have guessed that time travel was involved. What were they thinking? Giving a student a Time Turner!

Harry was grateful for the silence at first, but in the silence, had time to think. What was going to happen next? What was Snape going to ask next? Harry was growing more and more uncertain, but he had no option but to sit there and answer Snape's questions.

"Why didn't Mr Weasley help in this crusade to free Black?" Snape was now suspicious Ron had his own agenda to fulfil.

"His leg was broken; we had to leave him behind. Sirius was trying to take him to the Whomping Willow, and when Ron tried to get away, he broke his leg."

Not very interesting, Snape thought dully.

"Where is the hippogriff now?"

"With Sirius, sir, and I don't know where he is."

"Mr Potter, are you spoiled by your relatives?" Snape wanted more than anything for Harry to admit that he had a privileged, pampered life with the muggles.

"No, sir, we do not get along. Or like each other at all."

Damn. Well, so much for that, Snape thought. "I need more detail than that, Potter."

"I do most of the chores, but overall I am ignored, or fighting to get Hedwig, my owl, to be allowed out to fly and hunt." Harry did not want to tell Snape anymore, his relatives were a touchy subject.

"More details than that. When you say 'most of the chores', what do you mean?" Snape was pressing hard. He was interested about Harry's avoidance.

"I almost always do all the chores inside and outside the house. Unless they want to ignore me and pretend I don't exist; then I'm expected to stay out of sight and Aunt Petunia does the housework." This was hard to understand, as Harry had tried very hard to stay quiet, but it was futile, and was just fuel to the fire.

What is he trying to hide from me? "How much time do you give your homework? Do they give you time to do it?" If not, then that would explain why it was always terrible quality.

"They lock my school things away so I have to do my homework in secret. I do my homework in my room, under the covers so they won't see the light from the flashlight. I pick the lock and put it all back on the last day so they don't notice."

That's rather resourceful, but not enough information. "Potter, you fool, why didn't you tell anyone that they keep your things from you? You need your books and your supplies to do your homework. It's no wonder the homework assigned over the summer holidays is particularly terrible. And you know it's illegal to do magic outside of school," Snape did his best to glower; he was very successful.

Harry could not think of anything to say at first, and felt very angry about being reprimanded about illegal activity. The 'why didn't you tell anyone…' part seemed like a rhetorical question, but Harry was still magically obligated to answer. "I didn't think…"

"Of course you didn't!" Snape was very tired of this boy's inability to think ahead, or ask for help.

"What magic did I do outside of school?" Harry was ready to defend himself.

"Did you use magic to pick the lock?"

"No, I used the muggle way," Harry mumbled.

"Where did you learn to do that, Mr. Potter? Who taught you how to pick the lock the muggle way? It's certainly not taught here at Hogwarts," Snape was being extra snarky.

"Fred and George Weasley."

"As I thought. Does Professor McGonagall know about this?" He really and truly, with all his heart, doubted it.

"No, sir, she does not know," Harry said with his head down, embarrassed.

"Then she will know, and together, she and I will write to your relatives; they will not lock your school things away ever again. And next time, Potter, with something as important as your school work, please find the time to tell someone who can actually do something about it," Snape said this in a lazy, this-is-beneath-me, sort of way.

"Thank you, sir. It seems obvious now."

"Because it always has been obvious, Mr Potter," Snape sneered.

"Yes, sir."

"Your Aunt Petunia is your mother's sister, correct?" Snape knew this to be a fact, but he had his reasons to keep that from Harry.

"That is correct, sir," Harry answered. He was curious as to why Snape thought that was relevant, but again, he didn't feel it was a good time to ask questions.

"Do you have a cousin? What is his name? What is he like?"

"His name is Dudley. He is a bully, but I can stay out of his way."

"Does he bully you?" Snape felt a touch of anger.

"Not anymore. He can't catch me anymore," Harry was avoiding Snape's gaze.

This is going to be a very long letter; I have so much to tell those muggles. "You may leave now, Mr Potter," Snape sounded oddly defeated and exhausted.

"Yes, sir. Sir? How long will this last—the truth potion?" Harry was feeling very worried it would last all day.

Snape sneered a little, "Another hour, Mr Potter."

Harry did not move, "Ah, sir, could I please stay here?"

"Why would you want to do that, Potter?" His eyes narrowed with suspicion, not thinking of the obvious.

"Well, I don't want to be forced to tell the truth to my friends and peers, and frankly, you don't either, sir. You don't want me to admit that I allowed you to interrogate me under the effects of Veritaserum," Harry said with a smile that was knowing and smug.

It sounded to Snape a bit like there was a threat among the facts, "Alright, Potter. But you're not to laze about; you're to work by cleaning cauldrons and wiping down the tables."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and went straight to work while Snape went to his desk to grade papers.

Harry not only washed the cauldrons used from his most recent class, but all the cauldrons in the classroom; there were a lot, it looked like enough for the whole school. His arms were good and tired now, but he had to clean the tables. When the tables were done, Snape came over and inspected his work.

"Alright, Potter, the hour is up. You may leave now."

"Okay. Goodbye, Professor."

"Just a minute. Just to make sure—lie to me."

"Um, ah. Hmm..."

"Come on, Potter, you can think of something to say," Snape glowered.

"Draco Malfoy is my best mate," Harry was actually smiling.

Snape smiled, "Alright, leave."

"Bye," and with that, Harry ran like his life depended on it.

"Five points to Gryffindor," Snape said to the dark dungeon.