Author's Notes: We all know by now that the Harry Potter universe does not belong to us, but to J.K. Rowling. This story was suggested by my son, Christopher and is for him. His suggestions will be incorporated throughout the story, but readers' suggestions about the story's direction are always valued. This is a first time fic and has not beta, although one would be welcome—please keep that in mind if you review
Blind Prejudice
--"When dealing with people, remember you are not dealing with creatures of logic, but with creatures of emotion, creatures bristling with prejudice, and motivated by pride and vanity."—Dale Carnegie 1888-1955.
Lips pressed into a thin line and black teacher's robe billowing, Severus Snape stopped in front of the gargoyle leading to the Headmaster's office. "Chocolate Frogs," he spat with a sneer as he stepped onto the ascending stone stairway.
He stepped to the door with a fist upraised to knock. He needn't have bothered. The door sprang open merrily to reveal the inner office of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Ah, Severus," the Headmaster intoned. "By all means, enter. Would you care for a lemon sherbet?" At Snape's curt headshake to the negative, the headmaster waved his hand lazily and a shiny silver tea set shimmered into existence on a small table set between two plush armchairs by the fire. The Potions Master hissed angrily as the armchair into which he'd been motioned captured his lean form and sunk it back gently.
"Albus, this is intolerable", the Potions Master stated flatly.
Twin brows of white peaked curiously. "If the chair is not to your liking, you are always, of course, free to alter it at will."
"Barmy old man," muttered Severus. "What was that, Severus?"
"I mean to say, Headmaster", started Snape frostily, "that the blatant favoritism towards the other houses, Gryffindor, in particular, is getting out of hand. I understand that I must always atone for my past, but…"
"We will not discuss this, again, Severus!" interrupted Dumbledore sternly. "You know my views on this. Your redemption began when you turned from Voldemort and was complete when you actively joined the Light. You have endured the consequences of past choices, yes; but your soul is not in question," he finished gently.
The simultaneous chastisement and reminder of his status with the Headmaster deflated Severus slightly. He exhaled softly and tried again.
"Albus, if we may?" he questioned.
"By all mean, Severus, continue."
"I understand that a certain amount of prejudice will always exist against Slytherin. After all, the Dark Lord was a Slytherin. However, it is also true, though little known, that many a Gryffindor holds a place in the inner circle. The rampant favoritism towards Gryffindor is merely inflaming Slytherin. Why should they try to uphold house pride when points are often, unfairly I might add, taken from them at the slightest provocation? After all, your Golden Boy has been involved in no less than 3 incidents this past week alone and yet, Slytherin lost double the points of Gryffindor!"
The Potions Master leaned back even further into the annoyingly soft armchair. He braced himself for the expected gentle defense against Gryffindor and for one Gryffindor in particular.