Book 1 - James Potter and the Hall of Elders' Crossing

Snape watched as James consulted the Marauder’s Map. It wasn’t Snape’s first encounter with the
map. On one occasion, the map had insulted him fairly cheekily. Having assured themselves that Filch was
still in his office, the three crowded back under the Invisibility Cloak and shuffled back through the door of
the Headmistress’ office and into the hall. Snape considered waking Filch, who he knew was sleeping in his
office with a half empty bottle of fire whiskey on his desk. One of Snape’s self portraits resided in a hunting
painting in Filch’s office, and Snape could easily use that painting to alert Filch to the three boys’ sneaking.
Reluctantly, he decided not to. Like it or not, such petty tricks gave him little pleasure anymore. The ghost
of Cedric Diggory, who Snape had come to recognize before anyone else, closed the door behind the boys and
shot the bolt.
“Thank you, Mr. Diggory,” Snape said quietly, amidst the snores of the other paintings. “Feel free to
accompany them back to their dormitories. Or not. I don’t much care.”
Cedric nodded to Snape. Snape knew the ghost didn’t like to talk to him. Something about a ghost
talking to a painting seemed to disturb the boy. Nothing technically human on either end, Snape figured.
Cedric dismissed himself and walked through the locked wooden door.
One of the paintings near Snape stopped snoring.
“He isn’t precisely like his father, is he?” a thoughtful, older voice said.
Snape settled back into his portrait. “He’s only like him in the worst of ways. He’s a Potter.”
“Now who’s passing easy judgments?” the other voice said with a hint of teasing.
“It’s not an easy judgment. I’ve watched him. He’s as arrogant and foolish as the others that bore his
last name. Don’t pretend you don’t see it.”
“I see that he came to ask for your help.”
Snape nodded grudgingly. “One can only hope that that instinct has a chance to mature. He asked
for help only when he ran out of other options. And he didn’t, you’ll notice, actually take any of my advice.”
The older voice was silent for a moment, and then asked, “Will you tell Minerva?”
“Perhaps,” Snape said, considering. “Perhaps not. For now, I will do as I’ve done all along. I will
watch.”
“You believe there is a chance he and his friends might succeed, then?”
Snape didn’t answer. A minute later, the older voice spoke again. “He is being manipulated. He
doesn’t know it.”
Snape nodded. “I assumed there was no point in telling him.”
“You’re probably right, Severus. You have an instinct for such things.”
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