Author's Notes: Well, this chapter had interesting dialogue. Snape is a sly, manipulative bastard, but we already knew this.
The silent treatment continued for several days after. Harry was a forgotten relic among his housemates. Nobody spoke to him, nobody responded to him. Harry was horribly reminded of the Dursleys, like he was something barely tolerated.
Hedwig dropped a letter at breakfast, and Harry caught it and opened it. Neither Sally-Anne nor Theodore asked after the letter; Harry had not exchanged a word with them since he had been made a Pariah. However, they had begun to sit on either side of him during mealtimes and would curtly change the subject if anybody tried to bully Harry about being raised by Muggles or being a Half-Blood or acting like a Gryffindork.
But when someone had called his mother, a Mudblood whore, Harry had attempted to hex her, and his spell was wordlessly deflected by a Shield Charm from the older student. Then Theodore and Sally-Anne had jumped to his aid; Sally-Anne had cast a Disarming Charm which failed against another Shield Charm while simultaneously Theodore had summoned a glowing barrier to deflect the curse from the older student's friend.
For their heroic assist, Head Boy Whitehead gave Harry's friends a week-long detention with the Potions professor, while the older students had been let off with only a warning… As far as Harry was concerned, Theo and Sally-Anne didn't need to talk to him to convey friendship; just like Ra-ee-ahtri, his selkie friend, he already knew they were his friends.
Inside the letter, Hermione outlined a plan where Ron and she carried Norbert—Hagrid had named the dragon that—to the astronomy tower so that Charlie's friends could ferry it away to Romania. As soon as he finished reading, Harry burned the letter up, feeling eyes on him. Professor Snape was staring at him from the High Table.
Harry waggled his eyebrows and grinned impishly. The stare instantly hardened.
During Transfigurations class, Harry overheard Malfoy boisterously talking about that poor despicable Weasley who was in the infirmary because of an infected dog bite. When he'd said dog, Malfoy's eyes flicked to Harry's, obviously enjoying that he knew it hadn't been any such thing. Harry wondered what the other boy's scheme was if he hadn't snitched on him immediately.
Exactly how did Malfoy plan to use this knowledge against Harry? Hagrid could get fired if it was found out that he illegally hatched a dragon… but then the half-giant had already raised a Cerberus pup and the headmaster had seen fit to use it as a guard dog instead of turning Hagrid over to the proper authorities…
Professor McGonagall's strict voice brought Harry out of his thoughts. "I expect a foot of parchment on the Transfiguration of living tissues, such as the rat tails you've worked on today, to inanimate objects by next class period."
As soon as the professor had dismissed them, Harry wandered into the infirmary after a friendly Hufflepuff prefect directed him in the correct direction when Harry seemed to be walking around aimlessly.
Hermione was already there, fussing over Ron. Madam Pomfrey looked at Harry with a calculating eye and then turned back to her parchments.
"It's not just my hand," Ron whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books but he really said that so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me—I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me—I shouldn't have called him a snot-nosed, rotten-toothed wanker the last time I saw him, that must be why he's doing this."
Harry wanted to tell him that it was probably Harry's fault. Harry was a Slytherin Pariah: a reject and an outcast as far as he could tell. Malfoy had always disliked Ron and insulted him, but now Malfoy had made his bullying more personal like a cat that was teasing a mouse. Was it because Malfoy knew a more direct form of bullying had no effect on Harry? But why would he target Ron the Arse? It would make more sense if he'd gone after Hermione if he wanted to bother Harry. Harry rubbed his head a little. Questioning others' motives caused Harry's head to hurt worse than trying to read lines of Magical Law.
"It'll all be over Saturday," Hermione said, but that didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he bolted upright and was covered in sweat.
"Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no—Malfoy—oh no—I've just remembered—Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he'll know when we're getting rid of Norbert."
The idea clicked into his head that Malfoy planned to catch the two Gryffindors in the act and have them punished. Harry didn't have a chance to reveal his magic cloak because Madam Pomfrey came over and made them leave, saying that Ron needed sleep.
Harry and Hermione left the infirmary after she bid Ron goodnight.
"It's too late to change the plan," Hermione said morosely as they walked slowly down the hall. "I haven't got time to send Charlie another owl. This was our only chance to get rid of Norbert without the poor thing being put down by the officials in the Ministry, but with Ron's hand all swollen…"
"I can help," Harry offered, "I know a lot of shortcuts and I can run interference if anyone catches us."
Hermione looked at him and then smiled. "Okay." And that single word of trust caused Harry to warm. "At the stroke of eleven, I'll be outside Hagrid's cabin," she whispered very quietly.
Harry smiled back. "I'll be there."
A couple days later, Potions class was horrendous. Harry's housemates were snickering at him and whispering, and nobody from his house would partner with him. The professor had forced him to pair up with Neville Longbottom, since Ron was still in the infirmary. Hermione was working with Finnigan.
Longbottom was a complete wreck with potions. Harry had to slowly show him how to mince the pickled crimbles at least two times, and when that didn't work Harry had very gently covered his hand over Longbottom's shaking one and showed him exactly how much pressure was needed on the knife handle.
"Don't you hear them, Harry?" The cowardly Lion whimpered out, managing to decently mince the crimbles.
"Ignore them. Just focus on the task at hand." Harry turned towards the waxy coriander kernels. They needed to be crushed and dusted into the potion's already bubbling base.
"Focus on the task at hand," Malfoy's voice mimicked loftily with obvious mockery. "Listen to him pretend to be some wise old monk."
Ignoring him, Harry sprinkled three pinches of coriander into the potion and it turned a deep burgundy. "Now add a pinch every time I stir it six times." He lowered the stir-rod into the volatile potion and began to carefully stir the thick potion anti-clockwise. Longbottom whispered a count and then added a pinch of the minced rubbery white dots. Soon the potion had turned pink. Once the crimbles had dissolved, the potion turned a sharp green.
"Tear off a leaf of liverwort and add it once the potion looks more yellow. Got that?"
The Gryffindor was staring at the potion in the cauldron like it was some miraculous thing.
"Longbottom. Did you hear what I said?"
He nodded dumbly, eyes fixed on the potion.
"Whoops," Crabbe said bumping into their table.
The Antidote for Rashes sloshed over and immediately caught on fire.
Harry took out his wand and extinguished the flame, like he'd been shown to do during Independent Potions lab. He sighed heavily. They would have to stay overtime to get the potion completed.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Longbottom." Professor Snape tsked as he walked past while Malfoy's high-pitched laughter encouraged peals of laughter from the other Slytherins.
"I'm—I'm sorry, Harry," Longbottom squeaked.
"If you want to blame someone, there's this pointy-faced bloke I know who thinks he's better than everyone else," Harry said evenly, since he knew Crabbe wouldn't have thought to sabotage them on his own. Grabbing the cauldron's rounded handle with a gloved hand, Harry dumped the burnt contents of the cauldron into the stone sink at the back of the Potions lab and scrubbed it out with the neutralizing water pouring from the gargoyle spout.
After lunch, Harry walked with Longbottom to Snape's classroom to successfully complete the assignment. They didn't finish until late afternoon. Afterwards, Harry ate a quick dinner.
Then, he was heading to Quidditch practice. It was just what he needed after a long day—he stopped as he saw Terence Higgs flying around on his Nimbus Two Thousand. Harry stared up at his Quidditch team and realized he'd been put on reserve. Feeling absolutely horrible, he left returning to his empty room.
So he would not be playing as Seeker in the last Slytherin match of the Quidditch season against the Hufflepuffs this Saturday.
For that reason alone, being a Pariah was decidedly unpleasant.
On Saturday night, it was very dark and very cloudy, perfect weather for sneaking about in Harry's opinion. He had snuck out of the first year's dormitory and left through the portrait. Once he was out of her sight, he put on his cloak and snuck through the castle to Hagrid's cabin. The professor didn't care if he broke curfew anymore, which was a plus of being a Pariah.
Outside Harry jumped when Hermione asked, "You still want to do this?" She looked uncertain.
"Ah. I said I would, didn't I?"
Her expression was very serious. "I mean it if you're going to bail out, now—"
"I won't," he insisted.
"Oh, yeh're here," Hagrid said accidentally interrupting whatever Hermione had to say, "Great, come an' see 'im. I gave 'im a bit of somethin' so he quiets down." They entered the stone cabin to see that Hagrid had Norbert packed in a crate. The half-giant rambled about the amenities he'd provided to the toddler dragon, which kept thumping its tail against the sides of his cage. Harry worried that they might not be able to sneak Norbert through the castle if he was making such a racket.
"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed as Harry and Hermione picked the crate up.
How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, Harry wasn't sure. It had to be plain old perseverance and luck, since he had chosen not to reveal his magic cloak to Hermione. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along dark corridors, avoiding the animated paintings when they could.
Staircase after staircase went by. A couple of times Harry stopped them thinking he heard something, but there wasn't anything.
"Nearly there," Harry panted as he led them down another shortcut that would bring them to the corridor next to the tallest tower.
A sudden movement ahead of them almost caused them to drop the crate with the dragon that apparently had fallen asleep. They shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared.
Wearing a hairnet, a Professor McGonagall in bathrobes had Malfoy by the ear. "Detention!" She shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you—"
"You don't understand, Professor! Hermione Granger's coming—she's got a dragon!"
"What utter rubbish! Come on—I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"
Once they'd gone, Hermione and Harry carried the crate up the final flight of stairs. They stepped out into the cold night air.
Hermione did a little jig. Harry covered his mouth when he chuckled at the sight of her silly dancing.
"Malfoy's got detention! That snot deserves it. His favorite curseword is Mudblood."
Harry frowned. Malfoy hadn't used the word within Harry's earshot since he'd used the Disarming Charm successfully on the other boy. He wondered why Malfoy refrained around him but not around Hermione.
Norbert thrashed in his cage making a gargled trumpety roar.
"Shush, Norbert," Hermione said, crouching by the cage. She pulled out what looked like mulched jerky and dropped it below the baby dragon's head. "Here."
The dragon chomped it whole and settled down.
A few minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness.
The friends of Ron's older brother were a cheery lot, rigging Norbert's crate up to the harness across their broomsticks before the two could even offer any help. Then Harry's and Hermione's hands were getting shook as they were quietly thanked. And then, they were gone… Norbert with them.
The Gryffindor and Slytherin slipped back down the spiral staircase, their hearts lighter now that Norbert was out of their hands.
At the bottom of the stairs was Mrs. Norris who meowed plaintively. Before either of them had a chance to react, Mr. Filch stepped out of the darkness.
"Well, well, well," he whispered raspily, "We are in trouble."
Harry looked over to Hermione, who had gone as white as a sheet.
Mr. Filch led them to Professor McGonagall's office. A trembling Hermione was ordered to sit down and wait. "Snape's already dealing with the other brat. One more shan't bother him at this ungodly hour."
Harry smiled for Hermione. "Good luck," he whispered. She only looked at the floor. It was very likely that she hadn't gotten in trouble since the Halloween troll.
Following Mr. Filch, Harry's brain ran through excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories. Harry knew none of them were up to snuff. He could slip away by putting on the Cloak of Invisibility. However, Mr. Filch had already seen his face, so that idea fell to the wayside.
"You seemed like a nice boy, Potter, not like your father," Mr. Filch said absently, "Dunno why you got into such mischief, luring two others out of their tower."
"Two?" Harry asked curiously, "Draco Malfoy's a Slytherin."
"I know that!" Mr. Filch snapped. "Yes, another boy—a chubby one, round-face, very clumsy?—Professor McGonagall caught him first. And a wild story he had to tell, he did. Some codswallop about transporting a dragon to Romania?" Mr. Filch scoffed. "Seems likely he found out what you and the girl were sneaking up to the tower and wanted to know whatfor." Mr. Filch sniggered lightly, "I never understood why Slytherin boys chat up Gryffindor girls. It's like reading Lady Fillaboo and Lord Cyrus—a tragedy if you ask me."
Harry recognized the title, surprisingly enough. It was the quintessential Wizard version of Romeo and Juliet. Then Harry's face burned. "We aren't dating. We really were lugging a baby Norwegian Ridgeback up to the astronomy tower," he said with complete honesty.
"Nasty little buggers, Norwegian Ridgebacks. Mrs. Norris would have caught ya making all that ruckus," Mr. Filch said snidely.
Harry heaved his next breath. It had been a miracle that they hadn't been caught. Well, Harry wouldn't have to wait long to wonder whether Professor Snape disbelieved him.
"Stay; sit," Mr. Filch ordered. "The professor will be seeing to you as soon as he finishes with the other one." The Hogwarts Caretaker shut the door and shuffled to the other, rapping the door with his knuckles. "Professor?"
Professor Snape opened the door, saw Harry, and then smiled contemptibly at him. "I'll take care of it."
"I reckon you will. This one didn't give me any trouble on the way up, not even a measly bribe."
"Thank you, Mr. Filch." Professor Snape's eyes glittered like shiny black beetles. Harry looked at his feet, seeing his hands tighten over his knees.
Mr. Filch lumbered out, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Professor Snape stepped into the room. The door slid shut without him propping it open. "Explain yourself."
"Ron Weasley was laid up by a dragon bite, so I decided to help Hermione carry a Norwegian Ridgeback to an appointed meeting place."
"And where did you get an illegal breed of dragon?" The voice was so icy that Harry's skin felt like a bucket of frigid water had been dropped over his head.
Harry could either feign complete ignorance—which wouldn't be believed—argue that that didn't really matter, or tell the professor the truth.
"I would be careful, Potter... whatever you say to me will have a direct effect on Nott and Perks."
He hadn't wanted to reveal Hagrid's role in this, but Harry didn't see any other option. Harry glared. "Hagrid won the egg at a game of cards from a complete stranger, so he took it home and hatched it. Hermione said that type of dragon would become unmanageable eventually, so she and Ron devised a plan to have Charlie Weasley send some of his mates over to ship it to Romania."
Professor Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. "If it weren't for two solid pieces of evidence, I would have thought you'd gone up to the astronomy tower to cop off with that insufferable Miss Granger."
Harry's cheeks pinked. "I don't like her like that!" He said hotly.
Two notes were pulled from the folds of the professor's black robes. "A missive from Charles Weasley corroborating your story, and an anonymous note that reads 'It's Hatching' in Hagrid's usual butchered handwriting. I suppose this is the reason you skipped History of Magic last week."
Harry fidgeted and nodded.
"Don't fret about Slytherin's house points. Professor Binns never noticed," Professor Snape continued dryly, "If Draco hadn't gone to Hagrid's cabin on a whim, your secret would have been iron-clad." His beady eyes squinted at Harry. "Did you not think you were exceedingly lucky not to have been caught running along Hogwarts corridors with a dragon in a crate?"
Harry shrugged. It wouldn't surprise him if he was exceptionally lucky. How many others had survived a Killing Curse? Harry only knew of himself.
"If my godson hadn't volunteered himself as lookout and sent Filch and his mangy cat on a wild goose chase whenever they neared, be rest assured, you and Miss Granger would have been discovered earlier."
Malfoy had done what? "S-sir, but Malfoy—"
"As it was, Professor McGonagall came to investigate as soon as Filch had caught Longbottom. Had you placed a Quietening Charm on yourselves, Draco might not have even been caught at all."
"You say Malfoy helped?"
Professor Snape did not deign to answer Harry. "For aiding a Pariah in breaking curfew and several school rules, he will join you in serving detention with Professor Sprout next week."
Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that, but it must have shown on his face. "But, why would he help me?"
"Whatever those reasons are he has refused to rescind his loyalty to you. When I questioned him, he said nothing of your presence at the tower. Merlin knows why. You're the least trustworthy student I've ever had the displeasure of mentoring."
"I am trustworthy!"
Professor Snape's nostrils flared with anger. "The only loyalty you have is to yourself."
"That's not true!"
"You sold your Gryffindor friends out at a moment's notice!"
Harry blinked. "But—"
"Furthermore, the Gamekeeper could very well lose his job for hatching an illegal breed, and for what? For fear that you would face serious consequences for your decisions?"
"No!" Harry was on his feet, eyes blazing when his fury had come up violently. "Because you told me not to lie to you anymore!"
"Is that it?" Professor Snape said slowly with pronounced vehemence, "Or is it because you know I can tell when you aren't being honest?"
"Why are you so horrid?!" Harry yelled. "I thought I could trust you; that's why!"
"What exactly are you entrusting to me? Your friends' secrets? There's no real danger for you in those."
Hot rage unfurled inside Harry's head, while cold desolation creeped into his chest. "You don't understand," he said hollowly. "My mates are all I have." Harry had no family to speak of. He didn't have anybody else.
Snape traced a finger over his lower lip before he spoke again with a tone that suggested that Harry was very dull-witted. "Do you know why I made you Pariah, Potter?"
"Because you were tired of giving out detention and thought to encourage the rest of the house to bully me into submission, sir?"
"I merely gave you the opportunity to discover who your true friends were. You see, I promised each and every viper very unpleasant consequences and privilege revocations were they not to immediately disconnect themselves from any I declared as Pariah…"
"You," Harry growled, "threatened Theo and Sally-Anne?"
Snape huffed something oddly like a laugh and took a seat, resting his hands on the chair's arms. "Potter. Let me make this very clear to you. Whether you like it or not, a friend is ultimately someone you can reliably use. Finding each other distasteful is irrelevant as long as fraternity is maintained." Black eyes fixed onto Harry. "I advise that you treat the Malfoy heir with respect before he retaliates. Trust that you do not want a powerful pureblood family such as the Malfoys as enemies. On the other hand, once true loyalty is won, our house never wavers in its alliances…"
"If that's the long-view of Slytherin friendship, I don't want to participate," Harry stated fiercely. He didn't want or need Malfoy's help. Harry could take care of himself just fine.
Snape studied him for a long moment. "Am I to understand that the reason why you are Slytherin is because you'll do anything for power as long as it does not involve interpersonal power?"
"I never wanted to be in this bloody house," Harry spat out angrily. "And I don't want power! Only despots and evil Dark wizards want that!"
The professor raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps the hat placed you here to teach a valuable lesson about political power and leadership."
"I don't want to be a dictator or a Dark Lord!"
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Potter, you are an idiot to have developed such an aversion to the Slytherin House based off a few anti-Slytherin sentiments spoken on a train ride."
Harry was taken aback. "How did you know that?"
"Simple deduction, Potter."
"But someone could have told me that on the boat ride, or while we were waiting in the side room to the Great Hall."
"Both of which are significantly shorter spans of time… which calls into question my tendency to give you the benefit of the doubt. How surprising," Snape drawled nastily, "that the Boy-Who-Lived is so amazingly shallow as to form an opinion on a full fourth of his classmates in less than a half day."
"It wasn't helped by Malfoy's bullying or the high bleeding proportion of Dark Wizards that come out of here! You can't say that isn't cause for concern!"
There was a long pause as an unaffected Snape gazed at him. "Are you worried that you may join that list eventually?" Snape had the look of an adult unsympathetic to a child's plight.
"No!" Harry yelled hotly. "No, I'm not!"
Snape leaned forward menacingly. "You are lying to yourself, Potter. You are so terrified of the mere idea that you can't even allow yourself to contemplate it."
Harry looked away, feeling as if he'd lost.
"Fear… is one of the many motivations that drive wizards to the unethical side of the Dark Arts. If you are so terrified of such a possibility that you shut down and alienate yourself from the very people that struggle with the same stigma and temptations, you are sure to end up isolated, hated, and desperate." When Snape waited for a moment and Harry didn't say a word, the professor lifted an empty hand, which curled slowly as he spoke. "Alone... you will succumb to the darkness to gain power beyond your wildest dreams, but at the price of losing everything you hold dear." Another pale, long-fingered hand embraced the empty hand. "Together, you and your true allies will naturally repress each other's motivation to abuse authority and in the process you will have a better chance of retaining your principles and values in your common pursuit of power." Snape dropped his hands to the chair's arms and looked at Harry with muted expectancy.
Breathing in deeply, Harry stared at the floor. He hadn't thought anyone else worried about that besides him. He'd assumed that Slytherins like Malfoy wanted power to dominate and terrorize others. To think that Malfoy could be bluffing... well, that was a thought that had never occurred to Harry. A minute or so passed in silence, but Harry didn't know what to say when he looked up uncertainly.
"You appear to have learned a valuable lesson, so I see no point in continuing this absurd Pariah affair." Snape paused. "I suggest you take careful consideration of how you treat your housemates from now on." He gestured towards the door.
"Yes, sir," Harry whispered and quietly walked out of the office into the corridor leading directly to the common room. He moved silently up the dormitory stairs and pushed open the door. As usual the rest were fast asleep. Harry tried not to shuffle his feet in the room that amplified even the tiniest noise.
Opening his trunk to pull out an old school shirt he'd been using for jim-jams, Harry Switched his clothes with his wand. He picked up the cloak that felt like water and hugged it to his chest. It was then that he finally noticed in the dim light that the curtains on his bed were back.
He was relieved to see the familiar sight. He stood up when he felt someone's eyes on him. Harry saw Draco Malfoy propped up on his pillows, watching him.
"Thanks for helping us," Harry said without his usual resentment.
"'That's what friends are for', goes the common adage." Malfoy answered flippantly.
"Good night, Malfoy," Harry whispered as he crawled between the curtains and into bed.
"Good night, Potter," came a smug reply.
Harry still couldn't bring himself to trust him.
