He laughed. "You could give them a break, you know? So you've marked my paper? Was it good? Did I pass?"
"Your work was more than satisfactory," Snape inclined his head. "Your increased aptitude for the subject… pleases me greatly."
Harry beamed, a warm glow inside his chest.
"Now do you have any further questions, or might I continue my work in peace?" his guardian asked sardonically.
A pause.
"Just one more," Harry replied, softly.
Snape put down his quill, sensing a shift in the conversation towards something more serious. He turned to look at Harry but said nothing, simply giving the boy time to find the words.
"Did you… I mean, is it true that…" he began. "DidyouusedtobeaDeathEater?"
Another, far more tense silence hung in the air for a moment then.
And then Snape cleared his throat and folded his hands in front of him, all the time looking Harry dead in the eye.
"What do you think?" he asked, eventually.
Harry thought about it briefly, before offering a slow nod. "Yes."
"Is this behind your endeavours to avoid me last term?" Snape enquired.
A small furrow appeared in Harry's brow, but he shook his head.
The potions master pinched the bridge of his nose. He had hoped this conversation might have waited several more years, until the boy was older, but it seemed that he would not be afforded such a luxury.
"When I was a young man, I… became embroiled in things that I am not particularly proud of," he began, considering his next words carefully. "The Dark Lord and the things he stood for were… attractive to many wizards who were perhaps… unhappy with their own circumstances. I myself, having had a… difficult childhood, was one of those wizards."
Harry frowned at that, but said nothing.
"I had, at the time, and due to my own foolish actions, hurt a very close friend," he said, his voice threatening to catch in his throat. "Somebody very dear to me. I was not in a very good place, and perhaps, feeling particularly isolated."