Harry turned to the sound and smiled slightly. "No sir, everybody knows that you keep the coffins and blood in your personal rooms. It's the chains and whips you keep here," Harry risked joking.
Snape seemed to freeze before his mouth twitched slightly. "And I thought I had hid that so well," he drawled.
Harry smiled and, after a beat of silence, said, "Thank you, sir, for making my ointment."
"As I have said, Mr. Potter, it is of no consequence," he said, reaching into his robes and pulling out a metal vial. "When you are running low, inform me and I shall make more before you run out."
Harry nodded and considered offering the man some money, but thought better of it; he knew Severus was a proud man and would probably take it as an insult.
"Have you an idea of how long this vial will last?" Snape asked after a moment.
Harry considered his words and wondered if this was Snape's way of asking how bad his scars were. Thinking, Harry considered how long his current vial had lasted and gave the date he thought about right, "I should last until mid October, maybe Halloween."
Severus was slightly surprised by this, but hid it well. "And you are using it correctly?" he questioned.
"Yes sir, I've been applying a small amount to each scar every night before bed," Harry told him. He was sure now that Snape was trying to find out about his home life surreptitiously.
Continuing to probe, Severus enquired, "And it is working?"
Harry, making the decision to plant more seeds of doubt in Dumbledore, nodded, "Yes sir, at least from what I can tell. It's harder for me to see the scars on my back, but the ones I can see seemed to have faded," he said.
Harry watched as Snape seemed to come to a conclusion, his face betraying nothing, but his eyes - his eyes showed his understanding at the implications and his anger.
"I see," is all he said before handing the ointment over.
Severus was shocked. If what the boy was implying was true, he had to wonder if Albus was aware; the man had insisted consistently throughout the years that the golden boy of the light was well looked and loved. He had even hinted that he was spoiled and went as far as to say that he could barely tell the difference between Harry and his father. Yet, here he was, hinting to a life that Severus himself could relate to. It made him wonder - the boy was nothing like Albus had said; had Albus lied? Which begged the question: if he had lied about this, what else was he lying about?
Taking the ointment, Harry placed it carefully in his pocket. "Thank you, sir," he said.
"You may go now," Severus dismissed, lost in his troubling thoughts.
~
The great hall, 31st October 1991
The next few weeks passed quickly for Harry. Unlike in his first life, Harry's flying lesson had been uneventful. Harry followed the crowd, making sure that, although it showed he was a good flyer, he didn't stand out too much. He pondered if he would even try out for the quidditch team; he did enjoy flying and the rush, but the game had lost some of its power over him. It had been a long time since had had been able to play.
Unsurprisingly, the Gryffindor and Slytherin flying lesson had not been as smooth of the 'Puffs and 'Claws. Neville, who really hadn't changed much from the boy Harry had known in his first life, baring his new found confidence, was still awful on a broom and had once again fallen. Yet, this time, Malfoy had not stolen his remembrall and tossed it; instead, he had appeared in the infirmary when Harry was visiting and returned it without comment, sending Harry a nod as he did. Apparently, he had stopped Ron from throwing it and caused the redhead to get two weeks detention.
Harry was curious about Draco's attitude this time around; he had yet to really speak to the boy, however he felt like they had an unspoken truce. Harry was glad for it, even though in his last life they had been rivals, Harry could see the blond had great potential. He was, Harry admitted, a smart wizard who had great influence and power.
After that incident, nothing seemed to happen for Harry; his lessons were extremely tedious and Harry bemoaned his fate at having to sit through another seven years of them. By the time Halloween rolled around, Harry was practically begging for something to happen. He had planned his revenge for Hermione perfectly, counting on Ron's arrogance and ignorance to once again put her in the troll's path; however, he did have a backup plan he was prepared to use if need be. With his cloak ready, Harry had spent the previous day practically praying for events to play out as they had before. Therefore, when he noticed that Hermione was absent during the Halloween feast, he had almost wept. He really was fond of his original plan.
Harry kept his eyes practically glued to the doors of the great hall, barely managing to keep his glee hidden when Quirrell came crashing in screaming about a troll.
"...I thought you ought to know," his finished with the weak statement and faked faint, happening almost exactly as they had in Harry's memories.
Like last time, the students all panicked and people started screaming.
"A troll!"
"Oh, Merlin!"
After retaining control, Dumbledore ordered the prefects to take them all back to their common rooms.
Harry, making sure to move without suspicion, used their panic to slip from the crowd, casting a silencing charm spell as he did. Once he was clear of the crowd, he quickly donned his cloak and made his way to the bathroom he knew the troll would be in. Reaching his target, Harry entered the bathroom just in time to see the troll bring its club down on the sinks. The commotion finally startled Hermione, who opened the door to her cubicle and let out an ear-splitting scream when she saw the troll. The troll turned its attention to the noise and Harry watched as she closed the door of the cubicle, locking it. Harry snorted at that and thought, 'As if a lock would help.'
In his last life, Harry had, at this point, already burst in with Ron in his attempt to save her. Now however, he sat back as the troll swung its club, watching as it easily demolished three cubicles. Hermione seemed to escape relatively unharmed and crawled from the wreckage, Harry watching as her brown eyes darted around. He moved silently to the far corner, out of view of the door just to be on the safe side as, even though he was under his cloak, he didn't want to risk being found. Turning back to the action, Harry watched Hermione's panic grow.
"Somebody, please! Help!" she screamed, once again gaining the troll's attention.