Harry was floored by the offer; he hadn't considered Snape to be the type of teacher to go out of his way to actually help students achieve more.
"Thank you, sir," Harry said.
"You may leave now," Severus said, wondering about the mystery boy who refused to meet his preconceived expectations.
"Actually sir, there was something I needed to talk to you about," Harry said.
Intrigued, Snape raised an eyebrow in question, "Yes?"
"This morning I visited the infirmary and while there, I mentioned that my scar ointment was running low. I'm not sure about the name of the ointment and when I mentioned its properties, Madam Pomfrey couldn't place it," Harry said.
"I see. Tell me the properties," Severus said.
"I don't know much about it, to be honest. It's pale blue and smells like mint and coffee; there are no fragments in it and the consistency is like melted wax - it also makes the area where applied tingle slightly for a minute. I was told to apply it every night for six months at which point my healer would check the progress and, if need be, change the dose," Harry recited.
Severus let out a hum in thought. He had a good idea, but it was a more obscure ointment usually used for old scars that were not medically treated. It didn't often get used in Britain because of this reason and it made Severus wonder about Harry's life before Hogwarts.
"I believe you are using Apollo's Tears," he said.
"Thank you," Harry replied eventually, unsure what to say. "I think that Madam Pomfrey will probably ask you to brew some for me later today, so I'm sorry for adding to your work." Harry didn't want the man to start resenting him again; he hoped to keep this new civility for as long as possible, even if it was suspicious.
"Most likely, Mr. Potter, but it is no bother," Snape said dismissively, letting a silence fall.
Harry stood for a moment, unsure what to do. "Should I leave now...?" he asked, waiting to be dismissed.
"Yes, you may go," Severus said, conjuring a piece of parchment and writing a note. "Give this to your professor."
Harry accepted the note and left, making his way to Charms. Snape's behaviour was baffling to him and Harry wondered if this was another ploy by Dumbledore to influence him. He wasn't sure yet which staff members he could trust aside from McGonagall and Pomfrey - and Madam Pomfrey had only been cleared after Harry had realised that her healer's oaths wouldn't allow her to ignore abuse if she found it. In her last life she had no cause to look as Harry had hid the abuse very well in his shame.
Harry was unsure about Snape though, as last time he had been so loyal to Dumbledore yet not. His true loyalty had been to Harry's mother and, through her, to Harry. Pondering this, Harry knocked and entered his Charms lesson, giving Flitwick Snape's note as he slip into a spare seat next to Hannah.
"Hello, Hannah," he whispered as the lesson continued, happy to see a friendly face.
"Hey, Harry," she replied pleasantly before focusing back on the small professor.
Harry, however, barely paid attention to the rest of the class after that as he could do the simple charm in his sleep. Instead, he focused on what he would do next. Harry slightly regretted not planning his actions more before he had returned to this time as he had so much to do and so few solid plans; he still needed to find a way to help Tom, who at this moment was less Tom and more Quirrellmort. He had an unknown number of enemies as he couldn't be sure who worked for Dumbledore; if it was just the Weasleys, he doubted Hermione would be in on the plan in this life, but Harry still wanted revenge - it was petty as she was technically innocent, but Harry was feeling vindictive. He had the aforementioned revenge against the Weasleys, Granger, and the old coot. At this point, Harry was just waiting for the old man to strike and call him up to his office. Hell, Harry was surprised that he hadn't been dragged up there last night and forced into a red and gold tie.
Snorting at the image his mind produced of Dumbledore jumping him in the hallway and throwing red and gold glitter on him and demanding he roar, Harry ignored the curious looks sent at him by his classmates as he plotted and schemed.
~
After a week of classes, a note from Dumbledore finally appeared during breakfast on the Friday of his first week. Harry, who was sitting with Neville at the Gryffindor table, fought to roll his eyes at the phrasing.
~
Mr. Potter,
My dear boy, I was wondering if you might join me for a spot of tea this afternoon after your lessons have finished.
Professor Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I do so enjoy Ice Mice
~
Seeing Harry's look and remembering what he had said about his family, Neville asked, "Who's it from?"
Harry, handing the note over, resumed eating. He was prepared for this, he told himself.
"What do you think the headmaster wants with you?" Neville asked after he had read the note, his voice slightly worried for his friend.
Harry pretended to be confused and shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea," he replied.
"Well, I wouldn't worry, you haven't done anything," Neville said, before he cringed. "Well, not anything too bad - you don't think it's about your argument with Ron, do you?"
Harry smirked when he thought about his confrontation with Ron just yesterday.
~
Due to the way September 1st fell in the week, school had started on a Tuesday and it hadn't been until Thursday that Harry had shared a lesson with the Gryffindors. Entering Herbology, Harry had immediately gone over to Neville, asking how he was settling in and what he had done to Ron while they waited for Professor Sprout to appear. It was during their conversation when Ron had pushed his way over to Harry, his skin still slightly green.
"Harry, mate, why didn't you say anything before the sorting?" Ron asked in an overly friendly voice. The class seemed to go silent when they saw what was happening.
Harry spared Neville a look of exasperation before turning to Ron. "Who are you?" he asked.
Ron seemed to puff his chest up slightly before holding his hand out. "The name's Ronald Weasley, but you can call me Ron, all my friends do."
Harry looked at his hand before shaking it limply. "Well Ronald, what do you want?" Harry asked.
The crowd seemed to pick up on Harry's tone and all took a step forward, wanting to get a better look at the pair of them.
Ron seemed slightly confused for a second before he smiled overly confidently again. "Well mate, I thought I would come over and rescue you from Longbottom; you can't want to hang out with him, he's not even a proper Gryffindor. You need friends like me, being who you are," Ron said.