8

10 Just Like His Father

After the brat left, there was silence. Typically, the silence was welcome after the chaos and destruction of a classroom of dunderheads. Nothing was worse than the beginning of a school year. Each new year brought a group of first years more inept than the last. It hadn't even taken Longbottom an hour to produce toxic fumes. How the boy could be the progeny of two celebrated Aurors was beyond belief.

With a sigh, Severus looked down at the essays he had been grading. Unfortunately, they were third-year summer assignments. In most ways, they were not better than the first years in terms of their accomplishments. They were only a couple of years removed in idiocy. Severus's scathing criticisms had bled red ink onto the page and pressed down so hard that he had nearly ground his quill to a stub. His mind was nowhere near his work, though. It was with the boy who had just left.

The little monster had the gall to apologize. After taking all of Severus's time and energy and throwing it back in his face that day in Diagon Alley, the boy had added insult to injury by backchatting right in the middle of class in front of other students. Then the horror thought that if he apologized, all could be forgiven; he would be in Severus's good graces again. As if that would fix everything, and Severus could forget that the boy was James Potter's spawn.

He had known all along. It was just a matter of time. Seeing a broken and abused boy, neglected and lost and knowing nothing of his heritage, had weakened Severus's defenses. He had done what any competent professional would do and taken the child from the abusive environment. He had also allowed himself to get attached. During those days when he had been stuck with the imp, he had begun to see him as more Lily than Potter. He should have known that there was no overcoming genetics. The child was a carbon copy of his despicable father. There was no way that the son could not turn out to be like the father.

Watching the sorting ceremony had been like seeing one of the worst days of his life flash before his eyes. Severus could remember all too well watching his best friend be sorted into Gryffindor, knowing that he never would follow her. Then he had observed that arrogant bully's face gleam with triumph as he sat beside Black. The fact that Black had ended up where Severus always knew he deserved to be, in prison, did not ease Severus's anger. Black should have been sent to Azkaban much sooner. As always, he and Lupin were let off scot-free.

Severus couldn't help but wonder what the conversation between Harry and the hat had consisted of. He had spoken often enough to the boy of choices, and he also did not want him to end up in Slytherin. Severus had stayed up nights terrified by the thought of it. He knew that Potter's upbringing made him vulnerable still, regardless of his influences. Gryffindor would not necessarily protect him. There were students in Severus's house that would have tried to turn Harry or recruit him and others that would bully him. Some would likely try to kill him. Some still might.

It occurred to Severus that the arrogant James Potter would never have apologized for anything at this age or any other time Severus had known him. Lily, on the other hand, had a big heart and had always been very forgiving. It wasn't until Severus had made his greatest mistake when they were teenagers that she had given up on him for good.

The next few days passed in a fog for Severus. He remained in a foul mood over the weekend. When classes resumed, his students gave him an even wider berth than usual because he took points at the slightest provocation. He did his best to avoid even looking at Potter, but he noticed that the brat still glanced at him during meals with what seemed to be entreating eyes. Severus glared at the boy whenever he caught him doing this. It was not going to work. Potter was better off without him.

On Thursday, Severus was feeling even more sleep-deprived and depressed than usual. He'd dreamed of an afternoon in the park with Lily and then woke up to down half a bottle of Firewhisky. Only consuming an antidote allowed him to attend classes that day without being hungover. He had never missed a day yet and wasn't about to let Potter and his past cause him to do so now. He did skip breakfast, though. He was glad when later he had to listen to Minerva complain about Malfoy bullying the Longbottom boy.

With McGonagall's comments in mind, Severus decided to observe the first-year flying lessons from a safe distance that afternoon. Whoever had decided to schedule the Gryffindors and Slytherins for Flying and Potions needed to have his head examined. Severus knew that examination would do Dumbledore no good. The old fool somehow believed that putting the two groups together as first years would somewhat generate camaraderie. It hadn't worked yet. This year's group seemed to be taking the situation beyond rivalry toward outright warfare, primarily due to camps developing around Malfoy and Potter. Severus had already heard that Potter had spurned Malfoy's second advance of friendship. It was a bold move, and Severus would have liked to discuss it with the boy. Then he reminded himself that he was not talking to him.

As the first years lined up along their broomsticks, Severus could already see chaos brewing. Malfoy and Potter were posturing like hippogriffs, backed up as usual by their loyal sidekicks. Severus was reasonably certain that Crabbe-Goyle had about as much in the way of brains between them as Weasley-Longbottom. He idly wondered if Madam Hooch knew what she was getting into. She was a coach, however. She should know how to handle teen and preteen hormones. So, he stood back and waited for something to happen.

He didn't have to wait long. He saw Longbottom fall and injure himself. As he was pondered if Longbottom had set a record, her heard Hooch threaten the group with expulsion for getting on their brooms. If Potter and Malfoy heard the warning, it went in one ear and out the other.

Malfoy was on his broom first and in the air. Severus had seen the boy fly many times since he was a toddler, but it had been a while. The child was a natural on a broom, but he had also had lessons and high-quality brooms since he could walk. Potter, on the other hand, hadn't even seen a broom until a few weeks ago. Severus knew the Weasleys would have taught him how to fly. He also knew that the boy had a tendency to ignore rules and warnings. It wouldn't be long before he was in the air.

As soon as Potter mounted his broom, Severus moved closer. He could see the boy was every bit as handy with the broom as Malfoy was. Malfoy clearly did not expect this and was getting nervous. Severus was furious. This was precisely the kind of thing James Potter would have done—showing off in front of the entire class as soon as the teacher's back was turned.

Neither boy could see him yet, but he could now hear them fighting over a small glass ball.

*"Give it here," [Potter] called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy …

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," [Potter] called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.*

Severus watched in horror as Malfoy tossed the ball, and Potter raced to catch it. The little cretin nearly broke his neck as he stopped his broom inches before careening into the ground. His stop wasn't wholly graceful, but when Potter toppled off the broom, he was on his feet, and he had the ball in his hand. He held it triumphantly in the air toward his classmates.

Now that his heart had started beating again, Severus was about to shout a string of inappropriate obscenities when he heard Potter's name called from behind him. Minerva was running toward them faster than he had ever seen her. Relieved, Severus caught his breath and hoped that she was going to drag the little hooligan into the castle by his ear and then toss him out of Hogwarts on his rear end. He watched Potter follow after her quietly, having the good sense to look chagrined, and then turned his attention to the other little miscreant.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

"Yes, Sir?"

Although the boy was trying to look arrogant and haughty, Severus could tell that he was nervous about being called out by his Head of House. He just glared at the boy, who shot a half-hearted attempt at an unconcerned look at his goons and then followed Severus. The entire way back to his office, Severus wasn't thinking of the boy behind him. Instead, he was thinking of Potter. He was loathed to admit it, but Severus was more worried about the boy he was trying to forget about, the one he should have had nothing to do with, than the one he was responsible for.

With years of practice at pushing his real feelings down, Severus glared at young Mr. Malfoy as he lectured him about responsibility and rule-breaking, with a few comments about goading and showing off for good measure. Then he assigned him detention and lines and sent him on his way. By the time Severus sat down, he couldn't help but wonder how Minerva had treated her half of the problem. He decided that he had a justified reason for inquiring since a member of his house had engaged with hers. He would ask at dinner.

It turned out that he didn't need to ask. Severus spent the entire dinner seething and trying not to hex her while staring into his mashed potatoes. He barely succeeded. Instead, he was trying to hold his tongue as she prattled on.

"He'll be just what we needed. We haven't had a good seeker since …"

Unable to hold it in any longer, Severus cut her off. "You can't be serious, Minerva."

"I beg your pardon, Severus?" Minerva asked, her eyes dancing joyfully. The old cat was enjoying teasing him. "Are you just annoyed that Slytherin has lost its chance at the Quidditch Cup?"

Severus looked away to gather his thoughts and avoid saying something he would regret. Unfortunately, his eyes went to the Gryffindor table, where Potter was surrounded by Weasleys and other House team members talking excitedly. It did not help his mood. He turned back toward her with a withering glare.

"For one thing, he is too small. He is a first-year, and an underweight one at that!" Severus held up a hand to forestall comment and let her know he was not done. He had noticed that their conversation was being followed by Madam Hooch on one side and Albus on the other. "For another, he was breaking the rules. He should be punished for his behavior, not rewarded for it. Do you really want to encourage the kind of lawlessness that his father and his little gang of marauders was famous for?" Severus spat the pet name for Potter's gang out as if he couldn't stand the taste of it in his mouth.

"Now, Severus," Albus chided. "Harry is not his father."

"Don't be too sure of that," Severus muttered.

"Harry was regretful," Minerva assured him. "I scolded him for going on a broom without permission. He was helping a friend after all."

Severus sighed and stared up at the ceiling as if in prayer. Merlin save him from careless Gryffindors. "Honestly, Minerva. He was rewarded with a position on the Quidditch team. What did Rolanda promise to any student who mounted a broom?"

His question was greeted with silence.

"But Severus," Minerva said, "he caught the ball after a fifty-foot dive!"

Severus just glowered at her. It was a battle that he was not going to win. The conversation continued, and unfortunately, Potter was compared to Quidditch prodigies across the centuries. After a few minutes, Severus excused himself. His temper became more and more pronounced until he finally could not handle it anymore. He conjured up a parchment and quill and dashed off a message and sent it with a flourish. If no one else was going to do something about this, he would have to see to it himself.

Within ten minutes, a very nervous Harry Potter was standing in front of Severus in his office.

"You sent me a note, Sir?" Potter asked nervously.

"Yes, Potter. I happened to notice today that you were on a broomstick when no one else in your class was, and Madam Hooch was nowhere to be seen. Care to explain?" Severus drawled.

Harry paled slightly. "Well, you see, Sir, Malfoy …"

"I do not want to hear about Mr. Malfoy. I have already had a discussion with him. Now, you and I are having a discussion."

"Yes, Sir." Harry looked down at his shoes. He took a deep breath and then looked up to meet Severus's eyes. "I did not follow instructions, Sir. I was wrong."

"That is correct, Mr. Potter. What were your instructions?"

"To stay on the ground, Sir."

"What did Madam Hooch tell you would be the consequences of mounting a broom after she left?" Severus asked the boy pointedly.

"She said we would be expelled, Sir," Potter said quietly. "But Sir … I wasn't expelled. Professor McGonagall saw! She … well, she didn't …" Harry looked confused.

"What did Professor McGonagall do?" Severus asked.

Potter had the good sense to look embarrassed. "She put me on the Quidditch team," he almost whispered.

"What do you think should happen to you?" Severus asked bluntly.

"I don't think I should be expelled!" Potter insisted. "Malfoy did it too! I was just trying to help Neville."

"First of all," Severus glared at the boy, "do not raise your voice at me. Ever. Now you broke the rules. I believe that we have had a conversation about this recently, have we not?" The boy nodded glumly. "Why do you think that Madam Hooch told you to stay off the brooms when she left?"

"So we wouldn't get hurt," Potter mumbled.

"That's right," Severus told him sternly. "The class had barely started when there was an injury. Flying can be dangerous. One of the main reasons for the lessons is to teach you how to do it safely. You are not supposed to fly unsupervised, ever. In fact, I had better never hear of you doing so again, is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Potter said earnestly. "So, I'm not expelled?"

"No, Potter, obviously," Severus grimaced. "However, you are going to serve detention, right along with Mr. Malfoy. You two got in trouble together, so you can serve detention together. You will also write me five hundred lines of 'I will follow all instructions given to me by staff at Hogwarts.'" Severus conjured a parchment with the line written at the top and handed it to the boy. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Have you practiced writing with a quill?"

"Yes, Sir. I have gotten much better!"

"Good. I am glad to know that you can do as you are told some of the time," Severus snapped.

The boy's face fell. Severus ignored him. He glared at Potter for a few more moments, trying to decide what to do or say. He hadn't wanted to have any contact with him outside of class, after all.

"You had better have your homework done tomorrow then, and neatly," he told the boy stiffly.

"Yes, Sir. It will be perfect!" Potter grinned at him.

"We'll see. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Sir. Professor?" Harry suddenly sounded timid.

"What Potter?" Severus asked him warily.

"I really am sorry," Potter bit his lip, probably trying his best to sound contrite. "Both for today and for, you know."

"You are sorry for repeatedly ignoring my instructions and those of other adults and putting yourself in dangerous situations?" Snape asked airily as if he couldn't be bothered.

"Yes, Sir," Potter frowned. "That, I guess."

"Well," Snape started to sift through the papers on his desk. "As I said, you are dismissed."

"Yes, Sir," Potter started to leave. When his hand was on the doorknob, he turned back toward Severus. "But, Professor. I just … no one has ever cared."

For long after the door shut behind him, Severus found himself thinking about what the boy had said. It wasn't until much later that he realized that there could be two interpretations for what Potter had said. On the one hand, no one had ever cared what Potter did. On the other hand, no one had ever cared about Potter. Severus was battling inner turmoil with himself. He desperately wanted not to care. Seeing Potter careen toward the ground on that broomstick had brought up many feelings in him. He had to admit that it certainly seemed like he had hauled the boy into his office, not just to make sure that it wasn't unfair that Malfoy was punished when Potter wasn't. Perhaps he did care. Severus, as usual, forced himself to push the thought out of his mind. If he was to protect the boy, he had to do it from a distance. That was the best way.

One advantage to being a potions master, a teacher, a spy, and heir to a dying Wizarding line was that Severus had plenty of money. He sent off that very night for a top-of-the-line broomstick and then put as many anti-jinx charms on it as he knew, and then gave it to Flitwick and Hooch to add a few more. He then tossed it at Minerva as if it were nothing.

"Honestly, Severus, it's as if you care nothing for the Cup," she teased.

"You had better make sure he has a full physical before the first game, or he is not playing!" Severus growled at her before stomping out of the room.

As he watched Potter unwrap the broomstick, he felt a slight glimmer of sadness that the boy could not know that it was from him. It would not do, however. There were many reasons for that. He was keeping his distance from the boy, for one. He could not be seen as playing favorites when he was not the boy's Head of House as well. He had ensured that the child had a safe broomstick. That was the least he could do. Perhaps Quidditch would keep the boy out of trouble.

Severus spent most of his very little free time keeping an eye on Quirrell. He was suspicious about the Defense teacher trying to get Potter on his own in Diagon Alley before school started. As far as he knew, Quirrell was not a Death Eater. That didn't mean anything, though. He had never known everyone in the Dark Lord's circle. The man was certainly acting suspiciously.

On Halloween Night, Severus was sitting at the Head Table glowering at Albus and trying to choke down food when all hell broke loose. He hated this day. All of the Wizarding World celebrating to rejoice the Dark Lord's defeat, which was a joke since no one knew what had really happened. No one ever talked about the cost. Severus could see that Potter did not seem to be in much of a celebratory mood, but he was still at the feast. He was relieved that he didn't have to go track the brat down. At least not having memories of his parents meant the child didn't mourn them ostentatiously.

Severus had been groaning over that horrible thought when Quirrell came running in, yelling about a troll in the dungeons. That yanked him out of his funk just in time to hear Albus order all of the students to their dormitories. The old man was mad!

"No!" Severus thundered. "Absolutely not. Slytherins, stay where you are."

Three tables of students were rushing up and out of the great hall, but the fourth table did not move. Severus was pleased that at least his Snakes had some sense. To order students into the dungeons when a troll was loose, there was not his idea of sound thinking. Severus turned and glared at Albus.

"Right," the headmaster looked slightly embarrassed. "Slytherins, accompany the Ravenclaws to their dormitory."

Severus nodded. He made eye contact with his Prefects, and soon the Slytherins were the last to leave the hall, in a mostly orderly fashion. As the rest of the staff headed for the dungeons, Severus went the other direction. He had a suspicion that the troll was a diversion. He hoped that the students were not running into danger. Either way, the soundest plan was to check on the Stone. In the chaos, he had lost track of Potter. All he could do was pray that the boy had listened and actually done as he was told for once. Severus could only go after one or the other, and he knew where the Stone was. Potter was supposed to be protected by the Prefects, safe in his tower.

Racing toward the third-floor corridor, Severus saw that the three-headed dog was still awake and very much active. That was a relief on the one hand. It meant that Quirrell had not been here. On the other hand, the dog was quicker than Severus had expected. As he lunged back, tossing a light jinx that wouldn't injure "Fluffy" but would hopefully encourage the beast to step back, the teeth of the enormous Cerberus grazed his leg. Even with his quick reflexes, it wasn't easy to keep an eye on three heads at once.

Swearing a string of curses that should never be used in a school full of children, Severus fell back against the heavy wooden door as the dog finally pulled back. He closed it and locked it with a potent spell that was mostly known to only Aurors and Death Eaters. It had opened much too quickly. Then he heard it.

Somewhere, there had been a blood-chilling scream. It was coming from behind him. Despite his new injury and the fact that his leg was indeed bleeding, Severus let adrenalin do its work and ran toward the source of the noise. He heard crashing, banging, and, to his heart-dropping horror, more screaming.

As he got closer to the sounds, he could also smell the troll. It definitely had students in there with it. Severus could not tell how many students were there, but he did not hear any staff members shouting spells. Just as he got to the girls' bathroom, he saw Minerva running toward him. He was relieved to have some backup. At least he would not have to take on a troll by himself. He had noticed, though, that there was no more screaming. From behind the transfiguration professor, he could see Quirrell rounding the corner.

What he saw when he entered the room almost made his heart stop. It certainly looked like a battle had occurred there. The troll was knocked out but breathing shallow breaths. Potter was standing next to it, cleaning something off his wand on his trousers. He looked up at Snape with wary eyes. Weasley was crouched against the wall, and Granger was hiding underneath a bathroom sink.

After the relief that all of the students were alive and relatively unharmed coursed through him, Severus made his way to the troll to ensure that it would not wake up. It seemed to be well-knocked out, and he found himself wondering what they had done to it. As Severus listened to Minerva interrogate her three lions, sounding appropriately angry for once, his eyes met Potter's. He could tell that the boy was exhausted and traumatized. Two months into the school year and Potter had already found himself a battle.

Severus listened and did not intervene in the lecture but had a little trouble comprehending when she dismissed them back to their tower. He sent her a piercing look but said nothing as she walked off. As soon as she was gone, he called after the three first years.

"One moment, please."

Granger turned to him with large eyes, probably afraid he was about to take more points. Potter looked at the stone floor. He noticed that Weasley did not look very steady either.

"Come with me, you three," Severus told them sternly.

They exchanged glances but followed him. Without another word, he led them to the hospital wing. If it had just been Potter, he probably would have handled it himself. Still, he hardly wanted to become a nursemaid to half of the Gryffindor first years. As soon as the little band of ragtag troll-fighters arrived, Madam Pomfrey began fussing over them. Potter sent Severus a few entreating looks, but he only glared back orders to obey or else. The boy complied.

"My word!" Pomfrey tutted. "What will it be next. Trolls! This one has a sprained wrist, that one has a broken rib, and they are all in shock. Potter might have a concussion."

Severus nodded. He had surmised as much. He was confident that they hadn't gotten the full story. Granger had lied about their reason for being there. He wasn't going to question Potter if the boy had a concussion. He walked over to him. The child lay in the last hospital bed in striped pajamas, looking miserable.

"Please, Sir," Potter croaked, "can I go back to my dorm?"

"Absolutely not, Potter," Severus told him sternly. "Didn't Madam Pomfrey tell you that you have a concussion?"

"Yes, Sir," Potter looked down, having the good sense to look remorseful.

"Then you are not going anywhere, at least until tomorrow," Severus intoned. "I am sure you would rather be stuffing your face with sweets, but this is what you get for running off and disobeying instructions and trying to fight a troll."

The boy looked close to tears. Severus sighed. He should not have scolded the boy. Crying with a concussion was probably contraindicated. He patted the boy gently on the shoulder.

"You did well, Harry. I am proud of you," Severus told him stintingly.

"Sir?" Potter looked shocked, probably both at the words and Severus's use of his given name. "But I … I broke the rules."

"Yes, I know. You and I will have a discussion about that … when you're better. I suppose, for now, I will just assume that you had a reason for doing so, so that I do not have to scold and punish you right now."

Potter smiled at Severus's feeble attempt at a joke. "Yes, Sir. I actually did."

"Is that so?"

The boy nodded.

"Well, you can tell me about it tomorrow. Madam Pomfrey gave you a calming drought?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Go to sleep then."

It looked like the boy was going to say something, but his eyes were beginning to close. He had fallen asleep, and there was no reason for Severus to be there. There was no reason for him to be there at all. Still, there he remained, hours after the boy had fallen asleep.

Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (p. 159). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.