Chapter 5
543words
"Want to go for a walk?" Harry asked little Snape, who sat reading by the window. His voice sounded uncertain. "Weather's too nice to stay cooped up inside."
Little Snape looked up, surprise flickering in his dark eyes. Since arriving, they'd barely left their quarters except for meals. Harry's suggestion sounded... pleasant.
"Where did you have in mind?" Little Snape closed his book.
"Hogwarts is massive, full of interesting spots. We could just explore."
Little Snape considered briefly, then nodded. "Very well. Let's explore."
They stepped outside into embracing sunshine, the spring air fresh and sweet.
"This is the Black Lake," Harry said, leading him toward the shore with unexpected enthusiasm. "All sorts of magical creatures live in there—the Giant Squid, merpeople, you name it."
Little Snape approached the lake's edge, mesmerized by the sunlight dancing across the water. The lake shimmered like polished jade, clear enough to reveal underwater plants swaying gently below. Occasionally, fish leapt from the surface, scattering droplets like liquid silver.
"Merpeople?" Little Snape's voice held genuine curiosity. Without his memories, the professor sometimes truly seemed like the child he appeared to be.
"Yeah, though they mostly stay deep down." Harry crouched beside him, pointing toward the lake's depths. "I saw them last year during the Triwizard Tournament..."
He trailed off. Last year, he'd argued with Professor Snape right here by this very lake. Snape had criticized his water-control spell as "imprecise" and "a disgrace to your mother's talent." But Harry had just been nervous about performing well in front of him.
Little Snape didn't press the issue, simply nodding and returning his attention to the lake's shimmering surface.
"Careful—don't get too close to the edge." Harry cautioned gently, instinctively reaching for Little Snape's hand.
Little Snape glanced at the offered hand but didn't pull away.
Warmth bloomed in Harry's chest.
"That's the Forbidden Forest." Harry pointed to the dense, dark treeline in the distance. "Students aren't allowed in—too many dangerous creatures lurking about."
Young Snape studied the ominous woods, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Have you been in there?"
Harry hesitated, then gave a rueful smile. "A few times. Never by choice, though."
"Sounds interesting," young Snape remarked.
Harry felt slightly dazed. The real Professor Snape would have called him reckless or foolish. Words like "interesting" would never have crossed his lips—at least not in this lifetime.
They strolled along the lakeshore, Harry pointing out landmarks—the Quidditch pitch, the greenhouses, the Whomping Willow. Young Snape listened attentively, occasionally asking questions but mostly observing quietly, as if trying to commit everything to memory.
When they reached a meadow carpeted with daisies, little Snape stopped abruptly. He stared at the delicate white flowers dancing in the breeze, his face lighting up with unexpected joy.
"They're beautiful," little Snape whispered, stepping carefully into the field of flowers.
Harry followed, watching as little Snape crouched down and gently stroked a daisy's petals with his tiny fingers.
"You can pick one if you want," Harry offered kindly.
Little Snape looked up, uncertainty in his eyes. At Harry's encouraging nod, he carefully selected the most perfect daisy and cradled it in his palm.
"Thank you," he said softly.
