Chapter 7
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In Dumbledore's office, Snape's eyes snapped open as he lay on the sofa.
Harry hovered nearby, concern etched on his face. "Professor, you're finally awake."
Snape's heart hammered in his chest as his gaze locked with Harry's—those unmistakable emerald green eyes.
Eyes so like Lily's. And now, filled with genuine concern—for him.
Snape closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.
She had died protecting this boy. And now that boy looked at him with her eyes, showing the same gentle care she once had.
"What happened to me?"
Snape instinctively tried to sit up, but froze when he saw his hands—adult-sized once more.
Harry scratched his head awkwardly. Before he could speak, a gentle voice came from behind Snape: "When I arrived at the library, I found you unconscious and poor Harry frantic as a cat in a rainstorm. Though his carelessness got you into this predicament, fortunately, the great Dumbledore was able to set things right."
Headmaster Dumbledore approached, offering a glass of birch juice. "How are you feeling, Severus?"
"I'm fine," Snape replied quietly. "Thank you, Headmaster."
"Great! You're okay! I'm really sorry about everything—I'll just be going now." Harry backed toward the door, clearly terrified that Professor Snape would remember everything and exact revenge.
"Stop."
Snape's command froze Harry in his tracks.
"Pro...Professor?" Harry stammered. "Did you need something?"
Snape let out a derisive snort.
"Every Saturday in the Charms classroom, I'll tutor you in Transfiguration. Your skills are abysmal."
Harry slumped over a library table while Hermione watched him, chin propped on her hand.
"It's not fair! Extra lessons every Saturday... This is his revenge, I just know it!"
"Harry! Don't be ungrateful when someone's offering to help you!"
