Authors Note: I'm going to do it- I'm going to update.

            It had been a late night, and Harry was strangely relieved to find himself in Snape's bedroom once again. The meeting had left him drained, and he had a lucky run in with Ron and Hermione. They were extremely thankful he was all okay.

Lupin had tried talking Harry into staying for tea, and as tempted as Harry was, he couldn't convince his body to stay up more then ten minutes.

            "That's age I guess." Harry moaned, hating Snape's tired out body with every fiber of his being.

            Harry still couldn't find anything he needed, and highly suspected that the chest of drawers magically removed and moved the contents around. He had strained to remember where everything was.

            "Ugh." Harry said in a disgusted Snape voice as he had located Snape's underwear drawer. The man still wore briefs.

            Still, Harry thought with a smirk, he didn't think Snape would mind wearing the same underwear for a week anyway.

            On a more serious note, Harry wanted to be comfortable and had earlier that week saw a drawer full of gray nightshirts. Trying to locate it in the poor lighting, Harry came across a small corner with a chest of drawers he'd never notice before.

            Without a second thought, Harry opened the drawer, only to raise his eyebrows in surprise. It was a diary; an old one.

            "It would be completely immoral for me to invade his privacy." Harry thought to himself. However, he couldn't help but pick the old, leather book up and look at it.

            "It might be cursed. There might be some safety spell on it or something."

            But even his most reasonable arguments could not block out his curiosity. The thought of Snape writing his feelings down, it was simply intriguing.

            "But wrong."

            With every ounce of self-control, Harry put the diary away and out of his sight. No matter how many injustices Snape had served him…. He abandoned the thought of looking for nightshirts. He was too tired anyway.

            Flopping himself down on the bed, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep; the diary always popping up in his conscious thoughts.

            Once Ron had found out that Harry was Snape, the Gryfinndor common room was mysteriously put into much unease. Somehow, Seamus and Dean, along with Neville and a few other Gryfinndors, had caught wind that there was a Snapish presence among them (which was rumored that he was spying under their very noses.).

            "Do you think that he, can, you know, see us? Or maybe just hear us?" Neville asked "Harry" in a hushed, terrified whisper.

            "Neville," Snape said in a highly sarcastic way. (Which was lost on the poor boy.) "I doubt you have anything to worry about, considering Professor Snape would not be the least bit surprised in your incompetence as a human being."

            Despite the insult, Neville looked slightly relieved.

            "I hear Snape is using a rat to report what we're doing. So if you see any rats, kill them." Said Lavender Brown.

            "Rats? And just how would they communicate with Snape anyway? Pass little notes to him?" Dean said laughing.

            "It's just what I heard." Lavender said blushing a bit.

            "I bet Snape is pretending to be one of us." Ron added in, clenching his teeth.

            Snape looked up from his Transfiguration homework to give Ron a calculated look.

Hermione, who was the only one who wasn't making up theories, was also doing her homework. She looked up at Ron's comment and nudged him hard in the ribs.

"No one is supposed to know." She mouthed at Ron as he rubbed where Hermione had poked him.

Despites Snape's hate for students, and especially for Gryfinndor, he found himself enjoying the evenings conversation.

"Well, if we ever found out how that greasy git is spying on us, you can be sure we'll put an end to it!" Seamus said.

"SHHH! He might be able to hear you!" Neville said eyeing the nearby closet nervously, as if expecting Snape to pop out and hex them all.

Which Snape half-thought he could do, just to see the look on Neville's porkly face. He smiled at Neville, the kind of smile that is a bit too slick to actually mean happiness.

 "I know how he's spying on us." Snape said ominously in a soft voice.

"You do, Harry?" Dean said grinning. "Hope it's better than rats."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other a little worried.

            " Its our quills. Snape put a charm on our quills; and at night, he calls them back to his dungeons and they write down all the words we've been saying about him." Snape leaned closer to the group for dramatic purposes. "The only way to get rid of them is to eat them."

            Hermione looked a bit horrified as the other kids started to nod. Sighing loudly, she caught everyone's attention.

"That's ridiculous Harry." Hermione said giving him a disapproving eye. "Besides, the ink that we use for our quills is POISONIOUS."

            Ron, who had registered Snape's ill will, could not stop himself from giving him a scowl.

            "I suppose a know-it-all like you, Hermione, knows precisely how Professor Snape is spying on us." Snape sneered.

            "As a matter of fact, she does!" Ron burst out, not bothering to control his temper.

            Snape raised an eyebrow, looking at Hermione expectantly, who was gripping the sides of her book. All the Gryfinndors were silent, curiously looking at the scene before them. Hermione looked Snape in the eye, smiled, and got up.

            "I'm going to bed. Have a good night, Harry." Hermione walked away from the group, Ron trailing close behind her.

            "Why did you leave?" Ron asked, but Hermione interrupted him.

            "Oh please Ron, sometimes you can be so daft. We're not supposed to know about Harry being him, remember?"

"But Snape called you a know-it-all." Ron scowled. "It would be worth it to reveal his dirty little secret."

Hermione stopped walking.

"Honestly Ron, I don't know how it could have been more obvious that Snape was trying to see if we knew about him being Harry. And you didn't exactly give him any ideas to think otherwise."

            "Well it's more than he deserves." Ron said defensively, but suddenly looking sheepish.

            Harry woke up in the dark. He felt like he was going crazy.

            "This is so stupid, I'm losing sleep over it." Harry thought looking at the corner where he had found the diary. "Alright, if I'm going to do this, I'm going to have some rules…I'm only going to read one page. And it's only going to be about my parents."

            Harry was sure there was chapters written about the things his father had done to Snape.

            "It's probably all mean, one sided stuff anyway. No big deal." Harry thought.

            He felt ashamed, but ignored it. The thought of Snape having probably mounds more information about his parents then he'd ever had irked him. And it was one chance in a thousand.

            The eerie moonlight and Snape's thin, boney fingers around the leather book added to the uncomfortable feeling growing in Harry's chest. He lit a dim light next to the bed, and opened up to the first page, brushing an oily lock of hair behind his ear.

            To Harry's horror and interest, words magically started appearing on the paper. Harry's thoughts immediately went to the episode with Tom Riddles diary- surely Snape's diary didn't hold any dark magic?

            Gathering his courage, Harry read the first sentence on the page.

            Which date do you wish to view?

            Would you like to make a new entry?

            Harry reasoned that perhaps all wizard diaries were interactive. Picking up a nearby quill and a bottle of ink, he scrawled in Snape's cramped handwriting, November 23, 1984. A date Harry figured Snape would be in school with his father.

            The pages flipped and Harry was now looking at what was full of Snape's cramped writing. Sure enough, the words "Potter", "hate" and even "kill" were mentioned several times in Harry's quick scan.

            I hate that damnable Potter and his stupid, Gryffindor friends. Today we were in Divination, which is a big joke of a class, and we were all told to make an effort to predict the future. Of course that ass Black couldn't wait to have all eyes on him so he could make a big, scene.

            He had the nerve to "predict" that I would turn into a Death Eater, fail in my attempts to please the Dark Lord, and then drown myself in my oily hair. Then Potter "predicted" that I would cheat on every single Divination test-, which Professor Hill proceeded to give me a dirty look- and I would try to redeem myself by "not being an insufferable git".

            I know Professor Hill ate it all up, thinking that Black and Potter are the cleverest, most talented students. The morons.  I predicted that my enemies would beg for mercy as I tortured them to death slowly. We'll see who's prediction comes true.

            Harry winced, not exactly surprised to read the expressed violence. "Which date do you wish to view" was written neatly on the bottom. Harry couldn't help but violate his first rule.  Quickly he wrote, February 3, 1985.

            I decided to get that moron Potter back. That Mudblood, Evans, that Potter has been disgustingly drooling over for the past two years, just so happens to be my Potions Lab partner. So when I offered to switch partners with Potter, naturally he was interested. Then again, he was suspicious, which I expected. I told him I couldn't stand working with a thick-sculled girl like her, and that proved a good enough reason for that selfish airhead.

            Before I left I had switched all the labels on the powdered ingredience, so all through the big potions project they were creating an already failed potion. They were of course, too stupid to notice.

            Lets just say that their potion was a blast. And it left some nasty after-effects as some people were rushed to the hospital wing for treating burnt off arms and legs. Growing bones is painful enough, growing limbs is even worse.

            If only the potion had hit Potters brain.

            Harry found that he was shaking in anger and slammed the book shut. Grinding his teeth he tossed the book in the drawer, reading enough.

            Staring up at the stone ceiling, Harry wished more than ever that he could get out of Snape's body.

Authors note: Hope you enjoyed it.