Filoque
Summary: What would it take to make Hermione a blood purist? What if Snape grew tired of the game before Harry came to Hogwarts, and decided to make his own? What if Harry's primary desire was to prove himself, despite the cost? Dark, Slytherin Harry and Hermione. Snape, Hermione, Harry gen.
Disclaimer: Not mine, at all.
Chapter One
Hermione Jane Granger was having a Bad Day. It was her eleventh birthday and her parents were both away on business and it had only been after she didn't put up a fuss about them going on her birthday did they that concede that she was grown up enough to stay by herself for the day. After all, Miss Thistlethwaite was just next door and it was only for a day.
Already it was almost noon and her parents had been gone for hours. She'd already finished her summer reading list and there was nothing else to do. She was bored. Even being angry at her parents wasn't sufficiently distracting. She was sulking on the couch when a shadow appeared in the window by the door, and she leapt up as a knock came.
She peered around the curtain to see a tall dark man standing there with an annoyed expression on his face. Her parents had given her strict instructions regarding strangers and the door, but she figured they would deserve to see her stolen and killed. It would serve them right, being gone on her birthday.
She opened the door carefully and peered around it. "May I help you?"
He sneered at her impassively, holding out a heavy envelope. "Hermione Granger?"
She nodded and took it from him. It was made of parchment and sealed with thick red wax stamped with an "H". She opened the door further, beckoning him in as she fetched a letter opener and slit it open.
The man stood in the centre of the living room, looking around with an unimpressed expression as she read the letter with disbelieving eyes.
"Is this—this can't be true!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Really? You've never noticed anything strange happening when you were angry or frightened? Never thought that maybe you were special, extraordinary?"
"I'm smarter than everyone else in my school," she supplied proudly. "I don't think that's magic, though…"
"Nevertheless, you are magical and have thus been invited to study at Hogwarts. If your parents are unable to pay the fees, we have a fund for students of…Muggle heritage whose parents will not provide for them."
"Muggles?" She asked, hands working the envelope nervously. If it were true, what she wouldn't do to go, to make her parents sorry they ever ignored her, show them how special she really was. Leaving her all alone on her birthday, of all days!
"Non-magical people," the man grimaced. "Often we have difficulty with them allowing their children to attend. Some of them feel that their children are possessed, or freaks of some sort, and they must be…persuaded to allow their children to attend."He glanced around again. "Where are your parents? I do not wish to have to stay in a Muggle location any longer than I must, and getting your supplies in London will take some time."
Hermione shifted guiltily. "They aren't here right now. But—" she said, interjecting as he drew himself up, eyes flashing, "I have money! We can go get my supplies and then I can speak to them later!"
He didn't look much convinced, but she could tell that he didn't particularly want to come back, either. She considered some of the things he had said, and tried again. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to have to show Muggles around, either."
He caved, but gave her a look that said he knew what she was doing and was only doing this because he chose to, not because she had successfully manipulated him.
"Very well," he said, "gather your things and we shall go."
She barely restrained a grin as she ran to get her coat and money.
"Ready?" he asked when she returned, a long piece of wood in his hand. She nodded and he grasped her hand.
It felt like she was being squeezed through a tube and when it stopped, she opened her eyes to see a street full of people en strange clothing, with tall hats and robes like nothing she'd ever seen before.
The man, who finally introduced himself as Professor Snape, also had changed his clothes and was wearing a long black robe with many tiny buttons. He wasn't wearing a hat but he appeared to her strange enough as he was.
"First," he told her, "I have to run an errand before we go get your supplies. Where we are going to go they don't like people with your…disadvantaged heritage. I will change your clothing to something more suitable." Here he tapped her on her head with his wand and her shirt and trousers changed into something resembling his, but in a light green color with more flowing skirts. "Don't speak to anyone because little pureblooded witches should be seen and not heard. Clear?"
She frowned but nodded, following him into a little store with a dark interior. The walls were lines with shelves covered in strange things in bottles, with weird little creatures in wire cages.
The man behind the counter was very ugly, and when he spoke he had a thick German accent. "Snape! I wasn't expecting you today."
"Have my ingredients arrived?" Snape asked without preamble.
"Yes, my house elf will bring them now," the man answered, ringing a bell set into the counter before him.
"And who is this?" He asked, turning to Hermione. "It's not very often that such a pretty young witch comes into my store."
"This is my niece, Hermione Prince. She begins Hogwarts this year."
"I see. Do you know which house you'll be sorted into?"
She didn't respond, just looked at him silently as Snape had instructed.
He laughed. "As if there were any doubt."
Snape smiled briefly. "Her parents expect to betroth her to the young Malfoy."
The shopkeeper raised his eyebrows. "Well, if there is anyone who can maneuver the Parkinsons out of such a lucrative arrangement, it would be a Prince."
"Indeed." Snape's expression was closed, but it seemed smug to Hermione.
A strange little creature with large ears and bulging eyes appeared carrying a tray of bottles, which the shopkeeper wasted no time in collecting and shrinking for Snape. Snape in turn handed him a handful of coins in exchange, then slid the bottles into a pouch at his waist.
He led Hermione back out into the sunlight, taking her first to get her wand, then her potions supplies. He explained that he was the Potions Master of the school, and Head of Slytherin House, detailing what qualities were required for entry into his House.
She soaked up as much of the information as possible, but remembered what he had said about speaking out of turn, only interjecting occasionally.
At their final destination, Flourish and Botts, she worked up the courage to ask, "Professor Snape? May I ask a question?"
Snape sneered at her, but acquiesced.
"You didn't seem to like…Muggles very much. Why?"
He considered her carefully, and she felt like she was being measured. She stood a bit straighter and smoothed a hand over her skirts.
A smile flickered across his face and he nodded. "Muggles can be dangerous when faced with things they do not understand, and there is a long history of violence against our community by them. Many of us would prefer to never have contact with them, as they can be unpleasant and do not understand our ways. If you would like, I can give you some books that might better answer your questions."
She bit back an enthusiastic smile and simply nodded her head. "Thank you, Professor."
He loaded her down with books and pamphlets, with instructions on how to procure more, then Apparated them both back to her house. As they stood on the stoop, he turned to her.
"If you were to be Sorted into my House, I would like to offer to…smooth your way, if you like. You would be known as Hermione Prince, my niece. I see great potential in you if you apply yourself to what you have learnt today." He withdrew his wand. "Now, as to your clothes—"
"No thank you," she said, smiling. "I quite like what you've done with them. I will consider your offer, and I am very grateful. Thank you."
He merely nodded back to her, then Disapparated as she let herself back into the house. She left the Hogwarts letter on the table and went upstairs, eagerly opening the first book Professor Snape had suggested to her, Wizard-Muggle Relations of the Past 500 Years.
When her parents came home that evening, she did not go down to greet them.
Severus was pleasantly surprised by the owl that winged its way in with the morning post. The Granger girl had been a bit of an experiment, but one with such potential were he to succeed. In the years since the fall of the Dark Lord, he had become rather...bored. He professed no lost love for the madman, but the ideals- He would rebuild this world, he decided, one muggleborn, one light half-blood at a time, and bring the House of Prince back to what it had been before the fall of Grindelwald and the successive Auror raids, and his mother had married a Muggle.
He half smiled to himself as he read the missive. She politely informed him that she had read all the information he had given her and also procured several more books of similar kind, and that she would be pleased to accept his offer should she be Sorted into the illustrious House of Slytherin.
Hagrid was sufficiently startled by the sight of Severus smiling that he stumbled while climbing the stairs to the head table, winding up flat on his back, head smacking thunderously onto the stone floor. After Poppy had been called and ordered him under observation for the next two days for fear of hemorrhagic concussion, Albus sighed and turned to Severus.
"I am afraid I must intrude on your plans for the day, my boy," he said, and Snape's mouth curled in a snarl of refusal. Albus stopped him, and once he had explained the duties Hagrid had shunted on him by his unfortunate clumsiness, Snape considered.
The Potter boy was probably a hopelessly lost cause, spoiled and doted upon by his relatives, but it would be worth it merely to put the fear of Snape into the boy even before he set foot in Hogwarts. And if not—he smiled again, ignoring the stunned looks the other professors shot his way—it had gone to well with the mudblood girl. He could always offer him a similar deal if things worked out his way.
Snape paced around the common room as his House assembled, surveying them and considering how best to put his plan into action now that he had succeeded in the first step: a muggleborn in his House. Hermione had already collected Harry under her slightly bossy wing and were introducing themselves around, herself as Hermione Prince. She skillfully evaded any questions about her blood, and Snape was impressed by the time he called the meeting to order.
"Slytherins," he said, and the room instantly quieted. "Welcome to another years at Hogwarts. This year, however, there will be some…changes that I have devised in order to bring our House back to its former glory. Currently we are unjustly reviled, feared by those weaker than ourselves, and suspected of every wrongdoing at this school."
Snape calmly looked at all of the faces staring at him, then continued. "I have implemented some changes, to this end. Every week I will personally provide you with instruction. Some of these things will obviously be redundant for those of you fortunate to have parents who would instruct you over the summer, being…correctly inclined. "
He sneered at the self-congratulatory smiles some of the less-subtle Slytherins shared. Draco Malfoy, it seemed, had much to learn.
"However," he continued, "I hope to give you a new...perspective regarding this information. None of this is to lease this House, do I make myself clear?" He glared around the room, gaze severe. "The dungeons have privacy charms on them I received from a source I'm sure some of you can guess. Nevertheless, if any of you feel the need to practice this in the school at large, you will undoubtedly be summarily expelled, and I will not fight to keep you enrolled.
"I will lecture all of you once a week. I will assign you readings and exercises to be done in this common room. Before any of you complain," he snapped as a few became restless "I remind you that I am doing this for your benefit, adding to my own workload with no hope of recompense. If any of you choose not to take advantage of my generosity, you will find yourself at the mercy of those who did, and, well—We are all Slytherins here, are we not?"
He drew to a close. "Our sessions will begin on Monday. I expect all of you to be here." He nodded to a tall seventh year girl and she stepped forward. "First years, please follow our house Head Student Anatrix Percival and she will explain the particulars of our House as well as answer any questions you might have. I expect all of you to bring honor and no shame to our House. Miss Prince, please follow me."
She scurried after him, leaving an abandoned-looking Harry Potter. Snape wasn't worried. The boy could stand to learn a little independence, and the first battle had been won. James Potter was undoubtedly rolling in his grave. He spared a moment to remember the terror he had visited upon the boy's family, and the boy's gleeful expression, adding suggestions now and again.
"How is Hogwarts so far?" he asked, leading her into his office. "Any difficulties with regard to your status?"
She shook her head. "No, sir. To everyone I am the daughter of your cousin. I introduced myself to as many of the purebloods as I could on the train, although that Weasley boy—" she wrinkled her nose. "What a waste of blood. I can understand why Draco calls the lot of them blood traitors."
Snape nodded. "I would be much comforted were Muggle blood to be found in their veins, but I will resign myself to helping you overcome yours. We will make this house great again, you and i. If you have any trouble, please come to me. Now, it is very nearly curfew, so run back to your dorm. The others will fill you in on what you've missed."
She stood and curtsied for him, inclining her head in a gesture that wouldn't have seemed out of place on a young Narcissa Black, then left. Good, he thought to himself. She'd been studying the older ways, which would put girls like Parkison to shame. Given a year or two of study, and she might even rival Greengrass.
Tomorrow he would have to set up a plan for his students, and another for Potter specifically, but he went to bed satisfied with what he had accomplished.
Harry was entranced. Hogwarts was everything he had hoped it would be and more. It was a magic castle, filled with ghosts and talking portraits and all the food he could want. The hat had seemed pleased and amused when he told it that he would like Slytherin, please, because Professor Snape said that it was the best way to show his relatives that he wasn't useless.
Hermione seemed nice enough, and even though Draco seemed like a brat, he had imperiously told his two thugs that Harry was one o them, and was not to be bothered. There was apparently merit to getting on the good side of bully, after all.
He had followed Professor Snape's instructions and read the beginnings of his textbooks already, spending his entire train ride in silence while a redhead with a dirty face stared at him, expression full of awe, turning to jealousy after the snack cart went by. Harry didn't share any of his candy. It was his, he paid for it, and the boy's parents had even packed him a lunch. Harry hadn't gotten breakfast, or even dinner the night before.
Harry quickly learned that image was everything, much as his Aunt Petunia had always insisted. The goal wasn't to look normal, though, it was to look powerful, important. Like a proper pureblood, Draco drawled after he had dragged Harry to Snape when Harry confessed to having no better clothing.
Snape had dragged him back to Diagon Alley the very first Hogsmead weekend, despite him being a first year and not having any sort of permission slip. He scoffed when Harry confessed that they wouldn't sign anything for him anyway.
"As your Head of House, I have temporary guardianship of you, but if it came down to the Wizengamot and those Muggles versus any wizard, no Muggle would stand a chance. Especially if the minor involved is the Boy-Who-Lived."
Harry blushed and would have protested, but he considered the man's words. "So, I if I was to petition for different, wizarding guardians…"
"You might have difficulty circumnavigating the Headmaster, but if it were to reach the Ministry…"
Harry tucked this away into the back of his mind. Snape had already cautioned the young Slytherins against Albus Dumbledore, talking about favoritism heaped upon the other Houses, and his suspicion toward the Snakes. Harry didn't trust the smiling, twinkling grandfatherly act, either. It reminded him too much of Vernon's public face, where people would coo at him for talking in his poor, orphaned nephew.
Classes progressed, and though the Defense professor was worse than useless, Hermione was always willing to help him with homework or when one of the other pureblood students said something confusing. She never forgot his "unfortunate circumstances", as she referred to his being raised by non-wizards, but was always working with him to be better. It was exhausting, but it was nice to have people expecting something from him instead of writing him off as a juvenile delinquent.
Snape kept them all in the common room every Monday night, as he had promised. The first few nights he lectured on the recent war and current events, as well as the present state of the wizarding world. Harry sat fascinated as Snape detailed the decline of their society in the last hundred years, how much magic had been made illegal, how many of their rituals and traditions that had been eradicated in favor of the encroaching muggleborns. He assigned the older students books and slowly began teaching them spells that whenever Harry tried them out of curiosity, made his veins throb.
The early years were mostly lectured, which most of the other Slytherins quickly tired of, citing having heard it all before. Harry was transfixed, though, and sought out Professor Snape about his parents.
Snape frowned at him across his desk, fingers steepling. "I did not like your father," he finally began. "He was a bully, and a Gryffindor, and the Headmaster's favorite. He made my life hell. You look very much like him, although you are much more like your mother.
"Your mother was very beautiful, and powerful enough that the Dark Lord himself was willing to overlook her tainted blood. However, she was pulled in by your father who did not treat her as a proper pureblooded wife, and as she had not been taught better, she did not expect better. Your father was an Auror who publicly defied the Dark Lord more than once, and there are those who would hold him up as a hero, but…"
He sighed. "You are still very young, Mr. Potter. I do not want to burden you with tales of war, and what things people must do in them. I will tell you more, but not now."
Harry slumped with disappointment, but it was more than anyone else had bothered to tell him, besides that his father was a hero and his mother was beautiful. "Thank you, professor," he said, then went back to his common room to practice some of the spells he'd seen the seventh-years trying. It would make him feel better. Somnia Rompó always gave him a warm feeling in his chest.
AN: So, what did you think? I hope I showed the thought processes well enough that none of it seemed OOC. Please review and let me know if you think that it is worth continuing!
Somnia Rompó is a low-level nightmare curse that I shamelessly made up.
