A Potion Master's perspective- 1.

"That boy, that foolish, foolish boy!" Severus growled to himself as he watched, after a mere split second of hesitation, the boy leap to his feet and dash off after the silver doe.

"Hopping off, beyond the protections, not a care for his life, or others'," he muttered to himself.

"Ah, but that was what you counted on," that snide little voice inside his head said, not without a hint of triumph, "how is it that you expect something of him of him and then you rue when he meets your expectations? Damned if you do, damned if you don't."

"I'll appreciate your shutting it, right about now, thank you very much." He snorted inelegantly. It seemed very much like insanity to be discovered arguing with a voice in one's head.

"I'll thank you Albus, in your next life, to kindly incinerate me if I ever am daft enough to come to you." Severus could almost feel those dratted blue eyes twinkling with mirth and amusement.

"Albus," he whispered to the night, "how am I ever going to forgive myself? How am I ever going to forgive you for asking that of me?"

He shook himself back to the moment. There was no time for self flagellation now, thought the need for it was overwhelming. In the few moments he had lost his attention, the brat had disappeared.

Severus went cold. He could have sworn seeing the boy just then. Frantically looking around, relief flooded him when he saw the boy approaching the doe at the edge of the clearing.

In the silvery glow of the Patronus, Potter's form was almost ethereal. His skin glowed pale, but the eyes, Oh! The eyes! How they burned. Curiosity, thrill, fear and something else Severus could not understand, filled them, and brought the whole focus of Severus' world into that pale bespectacled face.

"More gaunt and worn than before," that voice said, "the boy has been through too much already, and this is yet the beginning. He's just a boy, Albus," the words rang through his ears.

Hastily, Severus pushed aside all other thoughts and panicked. What if the Patronus had spoken while Severus had been lost in those emeralds? Patronuses reflected the emotions of the owner. He briefly wondered if that concern and sympathy he had felt toward the brat had been reflected on the doe. He chuckled at the thought of Potter's reaction if he heard the Greasy Git's voice through the mouth of that beautiful and elusive creature, and quickly squashed that train of thought. Potter would probably Avada Severus before the boy even registered what he was doing, shattering his innocence, splintering his soul.

"And what of my soul, Albus?"

Severus briefly closed his eyes and concentrated on quelling the pain and burning that his own words evoked within him. Broken, that was the word. He silently berated himself for being a soppy fool. "Get to work!" he snarled in his mind, and the doe disappeared into a wisp of silver nothingness.

Potter seemed at a loss to see the doe gone. He stood a moment, blinking at the spot it last stood. Then it hit him, and he could not, for a moment, cover the panic that flitted across his face. It was replaced soon by a calculative look, as Potter figured out the odds and looked around, half expecting hooded figures to come screaming and blasting curses at him. Severus was sorely tempted.

As Potter glanced at the frozen lake by his feet, he caught the glint. "The last horse crosses the finish line," Severus sneered, as understanding, the excitement, flooded the boy's face. The look of pure joy that filled that face seemed to take years off. Severus caught himself before he sighed loudly. "Careful," he warned himself.

Severus laughed silently as the solution materialized in that tiny brain, and the look of 'are you sure there is no other way?' scrunched up Potter's face. The insufferable Boy-who-lived-to-annoy-the hell-out-of-the-Dark Lord-and-Severus cracked the ice, and taking a deep breath, plunged into the water.

"Harry!" Severus said in a half whisper and took involuntary steps forward, closer to the boy, now blurry beneath the icy surface of the lake. Something moved, and someone was calling out, making Severus turn sharply toward the commotion. The Weasley boy was rushing towards the water's edge and, for one terrifying moment, looked straight at the spot where Severus stood. He slowly released the breath he didn't realize he was holding, when the red headed boy moved swiftly to the water. Potter was thrashing and choking beneath the surface, and it tore at Severus' heart to just stand there and do nothing to help. Severus cursed at himself for choosing such a masking spot, though he knew it was all for the best.

Severus heaved a sigh of relief when the Weasley boy managed to drag Harry out of the water and get him breathing. He didn't half care if he was discovered now.

"The boys will probably think I was here to spy on them or capture them, either way," he thought bitterly. The loud squawking of "Are you MENTAL?" in the redhead's voice shook Severus out of his moment of wallowing in self pity. He shrugged mentally.

They were talking animatedly and gasping for breath at the same time. "Gryffindors," he snorted. Severus realized they would be figuring out where the Patronus came from, and suddenly, Severus felt tired. His work here was done.

Severus Snape drew his cloak about him tightly, as if it would protect him from the dark feeling of sorrow he felt upon thinking of the reasons for all these cloak and dagger games, for his skulking around, like a 'giant bat', as the students often called him.

The boy hated him and so did the Order, not to mention the non-evil part of the wizarding world. Minerva, the closest thing he had to a friend, after Albus, was ready to murder him. Sometime, he really hated Albus. He truly did.

Severus stilled all movement, seeing that the boys were hesitantly looking toward where he stood. Hurriedly, he erased all evidence of his having been there, as he rose into the air silently. Handy thing that, to be able to fly without a broom. He made a mental thing to thank the Dark Lord for it. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the image of Spinner's end, and apparated noiselessly.

Only when he had landed in the midst of his dusty, dim living room, and heard the rodent's high nauseating tone calling out to him, did he realize something. At the clearing, he had called Potter by his given name, twice.