Disclaimer: I own none of the intellectual property I have based this on.

Bottle Fame and Brew Glory

Harry stared at the man lying quietly in the infirmary bed, as he had been for the last week.

'He looks so… normal without his ever present sneer and the look of general disdain for humanity shining in his eyes. I think they even managed to get all the grease out of his hair.'

He wasn't quite sure how he should feel about him. On the one hand the man had saved his life. On the other hand the man was the biggest asshole he'd ever met.

Hell, even Malfoy (pick any one of them they were all the same, except Cissy had a nice ass) was more pleasant company than this bastard and he was relatively sure that any one of them would curse him in the back if they thought they could get away with it.

The figure on the bed began to stir, blinking and staring around owlishly, before asking in a raspy voice, "What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in the infirmary, sir. You stepped in front of a curse for me."

"Thank God, you're alright. Was anyone else hurt?" he asked with a concern that was completely foreign to anyone's experiences with him.

"No, they were just targeting me. Are you sure you're alright? You don't exactly sound like yourself."

The man smiled indulgently at his pupil, causing said pupil to begin yelling for the school nurse.

"It's alright Harry," he said reassuringly. "I can assure you that I am perfectly fine. I just haven't had my potion for a week and the effects have worn off."

"Potion?" Harry asked, confused and somewhat off balance in dealing with the changes.

"Yes, potion. I take a potion once every three days to allow me to behave the way I need to, to fill my role. I can't exactly act normally and be accepted by Voldemort and his followers after all."

"I thought…" Harry trailed off unwilling or unable to form a reply.

Snape simply shrugged. "Acting and character growth are for people who aren't potions masters."

Madam Pomfrey came in with a potion that reeked like a dead dog's arsehole that had been buried under a sewage farm for three months and Harry held his nose and voiced that fact.

Severus actually smiled at Harry, further freaking him out. "That is the primary ingredient. Well, that and a hair from a Malfoy. I still say it's a tossup between the potion itself and being forced to drink it that causes the effects though. No sense in delaying, down the hatch!"

Harry barely managed to keep his lunch down as he thought of being forced to drink a potion like that. 'Imagine having to drink something with a bit of Malfoy in it!'

Snape's lip twitched several times before his trademark sneer made an appearance and his hatred of all things Potter came back with a vengeance, as well as a hatred for most other things as well.

Standing up, he transfigured his hospital gown into a copy of his robes and looked at Potter. "Pathetic little shit, I should have let the curse hit you. I don't know what I was thinking, but rest assured, it won't happen again!"

Harry watched as Snape stormed out of the room, still feeling more than a little surreal about the whole thing.

AN: Just a strange thought about how Snape, who is suppose to be one of the forces of light, manages to be such a humongous prick while still being on their side.