Author's Note: I'm back! Sorry it took so long, but I took a month's vacation, and on top of that, have been job searching and preparing for grad school. But never fear, I refuse to abandon my stories…it just might take a little longer between updates.
See the end of the chapter for comments addressing some concerns/questions from the reviews, which I haven't been very good about answering lately. Sorry! Every single review is still MUCH appreciated, believe me!
Chapter Six - Flying Lessons
Thursday morning, the table was abuzz with excitement from all the first years. It took Harry a moment to remember - they had flying lessons that day! The thought filled him with a familiar combination of shivery anticipation and gut clenching nervousness. Unlike many of the other first year Slytherins - Draco, for example - Harry had yet to even touch a broom, much less ride one. It was yet another instance in which Harry needed to prove himself.
By chance, Harry glanced up at the staff table in time to lock eyes with Snape. Snape blinked, then quickly averted his eyes from Harry's. Harry frowned - Snape had been so weird lately. Not that he hadn't always been weird, particularly where Harry was concerned, but for the last couple of nights in detention, he'd been oddly subdued. But then, if he was in on - whatever it was - with Quirrell, it made perfect sense for Snape to not draw as much attention to himself. All the more reason for Harry to keep an even closer eye on him.
Draco poked him in the shoulder, his lips drawn into a pout when Harry turned to look at him.
"I asked you," Draco said, sounding exasperated, "if you're excited about flying lessons today. But you were too busy making eyes at Snape to even notice."
Blaise grinned. "Aww, would you rather he made eyes at you, Draco?"
Draco scowled, reddening. "Shut up!"
Blaise shrugged, taking a moment to butter his toast and take a bite. "Just saying."
"Yeah, I'm excited about flying today," Harry said quickly, before an all-out fight could break out between Draco and Blaise. "I just hope I don't look like a complete idiot, is all."
"Don't worry," said Draco. "You think any of the Mudbloods here have flown before? Or the Weasleys, for that matter. They're too poor to afford brooms, Father says." He patted Harry on the arm. "I've flown hundreds of times, myself. There's nothing to it."
"Is it true you were raised by Muggles?" Theodore asked suddenly, surprising Harry. Unlike the other boys in his dormitory, Theodore kept to himself, rarely speaking to the others except when it was necessary. He was especially odd in that he didn't seem to need anyone else. Sure, Harry had always been a loner, but it had never been because he'd wanted it. He'd always wanted friends, but until Hogwarts had never had the chance.
"Yes," he said finally. "So?"
"Were they awful?"
All eyes were suddenly on Harry, burning with curiosity. He had no idea how Theodore knew he'd been raised by Muggles - it wasn't as though he'd advertised that fact. Not because he was ashamed of it, but simply because the less he had to think about the Dursleys, the better.
If any of them knew the truth - that he'd grown up in a tiny cupboard with only spiders as friends, what would they think of him? Harry had no intention of ever finding out.
"Yes," he said shortly. "They were awful." He fixed Theodore with a challenging look, daring him to say more. Theodore said nothing, and the conversations around Harry quickly resumed.
Harry stared at Theodore curiously for a moment, then shrugged. Whatever Theodore's angle had been, it probably wasn't even worth thinking over.
Later, Harry walked outside with the other first year Slytherins. It was a beautiful day for flying, Harry decided. Sunny, and only slightly windy - it seemed a good omen for what was to come. Hopefully.
The Gryffindors were trailing closely behind them, and perhaps for this reason Draco was loudly retelling his story about the helicopter. This time, however, it was all the more dramatic and unbelievable.
"…I actually got caught on one of the…the wings, and it had sharp spikes all over it. I thought for sure I was dead. One of my arms was crushed in it, and I started to fall. But keep in mind, I'd already dropped my broom! But luckily, just a few feet from the ground, I managed to grab my broom and land. Later, we found out that I had a strange disease from that Muggle contraption that had crushed my arm. They gave me just a few weeks to live. Mother was devastated, but I knew I'd be fine. I'd already made a potion, you see, just for this purpose."
Harry glanced behind him at Hermione, and they exchanged a brief, amused look. He accidentally made eye contact with Ron, who stiffened and quickly looked away.
Finally, they reached the line of brooms and everyone shuffled into place. Harry stood beside Draco, who grinned unabashedly at him. Harry grinned back, rolling his eyes.
Somehow, Ron ended up directly across from him, and the other boy scowled slightly before looking at the ground. Neville Longbottom looked as though he might be sick - staring at his broom as if it threatened to kill him.
Madam Hooch, a stout witch with unruly hair, barked at the students to take their places.
"Welcome to your first flying lesson," she began, then quickly instructed them to put away wands, books, or anything else that might impede their flying ability.
"It's really very simple," she said, walking over to a larger broom, laid separately from the others. "One simply holds their hand over it, and says up!"
Much to Harry's surprise, his broom jumped into his hand the moment he said the word, as did Draco's, Ron's and several others. Hermione frowned and repeated the word, and her broom quickly followed suit. Others, it appeared, were not so lucky. Some were red-faced, yelling up louder and louder to heedless brooms; others managed to move their brooms halfway, but the brooms wavered and fell before reaching their hands.
Neville Longbottom had the worst luck. His broom did jump up, but with such force that it caused him to fall on the grass. Harry winced in sympathy. Draco laughed, along with Vince, Greg, and Blaise.
Madam Hooch then proceeded to single Neville out, in spite of the mortified expression on his face. She instructed him to throw a leg over his broom, and despite his apparent reluctance, he did so.
But then…he began rising higher and higher, with no indication of having any control over it. He shrieked, clutching the broom in terror.
"Not like that, Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch called out, sounding panicked. "Mr. Longbottom!"
Neville's broom rose even higher, bucking erratically. He lost his grip, screaming as he fell at least twenty feet to the ground. There was a sickening crack when he landed, and Neville howled with pain, clutching his damaged wrist to his chest.
"Ha, look at what he dropped," Draco said after Madam Hooch had left with Neville for the hospital wing, after having explicitly instructed the students to stay on the ground.
Draco grinned, tossing something round and red up and down. "It looks like a Remembrall - I wonder what the idiot is forgetting? Maybe a brain?" He laughed, and Ron promptly marched up to him, looking as though he might punch Draco.
"That's Neville's!" Ron spat angrily. He held out his hand. "Give it to me."
Draco's grin faded, replaced by a look of pure malice. It took Harry aback for a moment - he'd never seen such an expression on Draco's face before.
"Oh, but you didn't say please, Weasley. Didn't your mother teach you any manners? Oh, that's right. Weasleys don't know any manners. They're too busy sleeping with their pigs and enjoying the smell."
Ron flushed, then without warning, pushed Draco roughly in the chest. Draco stumbled backwards, but managed to catch himself at the last moment. He sneered, then held up the Remembrall.
"Still want this? You'll have to come get it, then." He mounted his broom and kicked off the ground, hovering a few feet in the air. He tossed the Remembrall up and down in his hand for emphasis.
Making a quick decision, Harry rose off the ground as well, barely letting himself feel the amazement of flying as he approached Draco. He heard a few mild exclamations of shock from the other students, but ignored them.
"Come on, Draco. Just give it back." Harry held out his hand.
Draco appeared startled for a moment, but then scowled. "You just want to impress that stupid Weasley."
Harry snorted. "No, Draco. I just don't want you to get in trouble. Especially not over something this stupid."
For a split second, Draco looked as though he might give in. But then he glanced down at Ron, who was watching with a murderous expression, and grinned.
"My offer still stands, Weasley," he said loudly, and then threw the Remembrall with all his might.
Harry didn't even think about it. He just flew - the wind rushing sharply against his face and cutting into his skin. It felt absolutely amazing, like nothing he'd ever experienced before. I was born for this, he thought gleefully. Nothing else at Hogwarts had been like this - he could do magic, sure, but he had to work hard for it. And Potions, especially, he had to study twice as much as Draco to do half as well. But this…he could do this forever.
Harry stretched out his hand for the Remembrall, and it met his hand with a satisfying smack. He closed his fingers around it, grinning in triumph before dropping back to the ground.
Draco's mouth was wide open. "I thought you'd never flown before," he said incredulously. Harry shrugged, but before he could say anything, he cringed at the sight of Professor McGonagall hurrying towards them.
"Come with me, Potter," she said briskly, leaving no room for argument. Harry nodded, following her without a word.
Much to Harry's astonishment, Ron spoke up. "It wasn't Harry's fault, Professor. Malfoy got on his broom first, and threw Neville's Remembrall in the air…Harry went after it. If you ask me, you should be giving him points, not taking them away."
McGonagall's lips quirked momentarily. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley," she said dryly. "Now, Mr. Potter…" she motioned Harry along. Harry glanced curiously at Ron, who flushed and looked quickly away.
Heart pounding, Harry followed McGonagall back to the castle. Was this it? Was he going to be thrown out of Hogwarts and sent back to the Dursleys? The thought alone was enough to prompt him to action.
"I'm really sorry, Professor," Harry said, catching up to McGonagall so he was nearly walking side by side with her. "I know it was wrong of me, but I'll never do anything like it again. Just…please don't kick me out of Hogwarts. I'll do anything."
McGonagall's lips quirked in that strange way again. "Hush, Potter. I'm taking you to Professor Snape's office, and you're to explain exactly what you did. You won't be kicked out of school," she added, her tone softening slightly. "I promise."
Harry found himself inclined to trust her - McGonagall, out of all the teachers, seemed the most fair. Unlike Snape, she didn't favor her own House over all others, and was just as likely to award points to a Slytherin as to a Gryffindor. She was strict yet kind, and Harry knew that she wouldn't tell him something if it wasn't true. So he nodded, trusting her fully, yet still filled with trepidation as they approached Snape's office.
*
Unlike others he could mention, Severus utilized every second of his free time. For instance, right now he was grading papers during his free period, whereas others might have chosen to spend it socializing or otherwise wasting time. True, Severus didn't exactly have friends in which to socialize with, but if one ignored that small detail, his usage of time was something to be impressed with.
Severus marked another paper with a flourish (a "D" this time…he was feeling generous), and rubbed his forehead tiredly. He hated teaching. Honestly, truly hated it. He didn't have any sort of knack for it, and no interest at all in improving future generations of wizarding Britain. If not for Dumbledore's outdated ideas of penance and redemption, Severus would be perfectly happy to spend the remainder of his long life hidden away from all human contact. In fact, a favorite fantasy of his was one in which he designed this perfect hideaway - perhaps a tunnel deep, deep into the ground, where he'd finally be free to feel sorry for himself and hate people in peace.
There was a knock on his door, and he looked up from the papers in mild annoyance.
"Come in!"
The door opened, and in walked Minerva McGonagall with Harry Potter in tow. Severus immediately bit back the sharp remark he had planned on making - he hated to admit it, but there was something about McGonagall which would forever make him feel like a skinny first year in Transfiguration class. He reckoned she knew it too, as a single stern glance from her was all it ever took to shut him up.
"Can I help you?" he asked, gritting his teeth. Potter lifted his head up and glared defiantly at Severus, which was apparently what he did best.
"Severus, I seem to recall you lamenting over Slytherin's Quidditch team for the year, particularly your new Seeker. I've the perfect solution for you - put Potter on as your Seeker."
Potter was unable to conceal his expression of shock, and he stared at McGonagall in surprise. Severus nearly choked.
"First off, you're well aware, I'm sure, that first years aren't allowed on the Quidditch teams. Secondly, I find it curious that you'd care to help my team, Minerva. The last time I checked, Slytherin's been in firm possession of the House Cup for quite some time. I wonder, is Potter so abysmal, and you, so desperate, that his becoming Seeker is Gryffindor's only hope?"
McGonagall rolled her eyes. "You Slytherins. Always so quick to find a nefarious plot in everything. Potter, why don't you explain to Professor Snape what you just did?"
Potter swallowed, looking warily at Severus. "I broke the rules, sir," he said carefully. "Madam Hooch told us not to leave the ground, but I did it anyway."
Severus scowled, feeling another headache coming on. "And?" he said impatiently.
Potter scowled back. "I flew, okay? Dra- someone threw Neville's Remembrall up in the air, and I was afraid it would get broken. So I went after it, and I caught it."
There was a so, there! finality to Potter's tone which quickly put Severus on the defensive. Much like James Potter, this Potter did not apologize for his actions, either. But unlike the elder Potter, he'd yet to call him Snivellus and plot to have him killed…and he'd been Sorted into Slytherin, as Severus was forced to continuously remind himself. So, Severus wasn't going to give into Potter's innate need to verbally spar with him (Severus would have won, anyway), and would instead continue searching for the part of Potter that was Lily. If it existed.
So, there!
Severus sat back in his chair and studied Potter carefully. Looking into the boy's eyes, he delicately prodded with Legilimency, curious as to what he'd see there. Several images swam up to the forefront of Potter's mind: Potter, sitting glumly in a cramped cupboard. A pig-like boy pushing a much smaller Potter to the ground and then laughing. Potter, talking to a snake behind a glass wall. A flash of green light, screaming…
Severus gasped in sudden pain, clamping his hand down on his suddenly burning Dark Mark. Potter gasped nearly simultaneously, hand pressed against his scar. He glared at Severus accusingly, green eyes flashing in hatred.
Remembering McGonagall's presence, Severus quickly regained his composure.
"Minerva, I'd like a word alone with Mr. Potter, please," he said smoothly, ignoring the pandemonium in his mind. McGonagall nodded, looking smug and satisfied - and something else. Severus had no doubts as to her shrewd intelligence - he'd often suggested slyly to her that she would have done well in Slytherin - and there was next to no chance that she'd missed the exchange between him and Potter. Hopefully, she wouldn't understand its significance - Severus wasn't sure that he understood its significance - but he had little doubt that she would persist in trying.
"I'm grateful that you brought Mr. Potter's…gifts to my attention," he continued. "And I'm certain I can put them to use. I'll speak to the Headmaster immediately." McGonagall nodded again before leaving his office.
Potter was breathing hard, nearly frozen with fear. Yet…there was something resolute about his posture, bespeaking of a bravery so bone-deep to be innate. He was afraid of Severus, yes, but he was prepared to stand his ground and fight, damn the consequences. It disturbed Severus more than he'd care to admit - he was just a child, after all.
"What did you do, sir?" Potter breathed, eyes wide. "I felt…I know you felt that."
Severus swallowed, feeling more out of sorts than he'd felt since…well, since the Dark Lord had been in power. There was clearly much that Dumbledore hadn't told him, as per usual, and he felt his blood boil in indignation. He had half a mind to probe violently into the boy's mind, find out all he could, and then march straight into Dumbledore's office with his accusations.
But then…there was the fact that he'd sworn to protect Lily's child, and there was nothing that could ever deter him from that goal. Stronger than his allegiance to the Dark Lord had ever been, stronger than his current allegiance to Dumbledore, was his love for Lily. And if Dumbledore was planning to use her son as a pawn in some grand chess game, Severus would be the first to put a stop to it.
"Mr. Potter - Harry," he said softly, causing the boy's eyes to practically bug out. "I assure you that you have nothing to fear from me. I wasn't aware…if you'd allow me…" he pointed at Potter's scar, currently hidden under a layer of unruly hair.
Potter eyed him warily, but nodded. Severus moved out from behind his desk and knelt in front of Potter, carefully brushing the hair away from his forehead.
The lightning bolt scar was red and inflamed, and even without drawing out his wand, Severus could feel the latent pulse of Dark magic, causing his Dark Mark to prickle. He was amazed he'd never noticed it before.
Severus backed away from Potter, but maintained his crouch so as to keep eye-level. His intention was not to intimidate - for once, and Potter needed to know that.
"Potter, I need you to answer me honestly. Does your scar become inflamed often?"
"It never used to, as much," he answered, biting his lip and regarding Severus skeptically. "I mean, sometimes I'd have a bad dream, and I'd wake up with it hurting. But…since I've been at Hogwarts, it does it all the time. With…with Professor Quirrell. And…and with you, sir." The latter was spoken in a defiant whisper, and he met Severus's eyes bravely.
Severus stood to his feet, fighting the urge to pace. He gritted his teeth. "Potter, can you speak to snakes?"
Potter looked confused for a moment. "Well…yes. I set a python on my cousin, once. I didn't mean to, and he definitely deserved it." He shrugged. "Can't all wizards speak with snakes?"
"No, Potter," Severus said carefully. "Speaking with snakes is an extremely rare gift, and one that makes many people uneasy. I'd suggest keeping it to yourself, at least for the time being."
Potter nodded. "Okay. I haven't told anyone, anyway. I didn't think it was a big deal."
Disturbed, the wheels in his head turning overtime, Severus managed to mutter, "You can go, now, Potter. I'll speak with the Headmaster about your playing on the Quidditch team. You should be honored - it's not often I bend the rules."
Potter nodded, fixing Severus with a questioning glance before hurrying out of the office.
Alone at last, Severus rubbed his Dark Mark through his robe. It was still tender to the touch, much as he imagined Potter's scar must be. Ever the Slytherin, he plotted his next move carefully.
A couple of comments to address some concerns: this is not a straight re-telling of SS/PS…some events will happen earlier, others will happen later, and some might not happen at all. And of course, some events will play out similarly, others much differently. Unlike the original series, there are no mysteries for me to keep hidden from the readers. You already know everything! Due to this, all I can do is mix things up and make them as new and interesting as possible. And hopefully keep you in suspense as to HOW events will play out.
A couple of people expressed concern as to Snape's quick turn-around…I guess I don't really see it that way. Snape is, and will always be, the same old greasy git…but his goal was always to protect Harry, Lily's child. I've always wondered how Snape might have responded to a Slytherin-sorted Harry…and now is my chance to explore that.
I've been asked if this will be HP/DM slash…absolutely not! They're eleven!
As to Draco's possessive attitude towards Harry - this is how I see it. Draco is an unimaginably spoiled child, and he's always been given everything he's ever wanted. For now, Harry is his newest, shiniest toy. But unlike most toys, Harry can choose at any moment to stop being friends with Draco - something that greatly upsets Draco's perception of his place in the world. He's never had to work at being a friend to someone, he's never experienced the possibility that a person wouldn't want to be friends with him. The only thing he knows is to hold on tightly and never let go. And that's how I see the Draco/Harry dynamic at the moment. Will they ever be true friends? Well, keep reading J
Anyway, hope that helped! As always, reviews are loved!