Chapter 1: Mentorship.
A/N: This is not part of the Slytherin, Snape and Dudley world. I couldn't get that to fourth year well because I'd killed off the rat. Assume canon has happened before the start of this story (give or take the bits I can't remember properly – I don't make promises about my own forgetfulness).
Harry is in Fourth Year. Fourth Years swear, just about manage sarcasm, and have a certain 'Kevin the Teenage' vibe (go look that up if you don't know the reference). Just letting you know. Also, Snape deals with his house in an old fashioned way. You've been warned.
JKR owns these characters. I'm just playing with them.
November 1994.
Harry had got up early and gone down to breakfast on his own. He was angry with Ron, and Ron with him. Ron was acting like a total tosser over this. He hadn't listened when Harry had tried to explain, so screw him! It really had been some of the worst weeks of Hogwarts for Harry. The altercation with Malfoy, and Snape's ensuing detention the other evening hadn't helped matters either. Harry was just miserable. But Harry knew how to be alone at school. He'd had plenty of practice over the years with Dudley.
Early meant solitude. Harry was angry. He was not fit to interact with others. He wasn't paying any attention to the other early birds in the great hall either. He certainly wasn't up for cutting remarks.
"Ah, Potter, over celebrity fame already are we?"
"Fuck off!" snapped Harry, without even turning round to see who'd stood behind him.
His brain hit the pause button. Then rewind. Then replay.
Oh, fuck, said his internal monologue.
There was now absolute silence in the great hall.
Professor Snape reached forward, took hold of the collar of Harry's robes and pulled him to his feet. He marched Harry out of the hall and up to Dumbledore's office. Harry could tell Snape was pissed, Harry had to trot to keep up. They came to an abrupt stop at the gargoyle.
"Don't. Move. An. Inch." snarled Snape. Snape stalked up the stairs.
Five minutes later Professor McGonagall arrived at the gargoyle.
"Just once, Mr Potter, could you see your way to not incensing Professor Snape before Christmas?!" She went upstairs and joined Snape and Dumbledore in Dumbledore's office.
"I've had it up to here with that brat!" snapped Severus.
"I think I'll install a revolving door for you, Severus," said Albus, casually, "You're up here to complain about him that often. He's not, in this instance, your problem, you'll be pleased to remember he's one of Minerva's lions."
Dumbledore summoned an elf.
"Could you ask Minerva to come to my office, please?" said Dumbledore. The elf bowed and popped away.
"Where is Mr Potter right now?" asked Dumbledore.
"Assuming he can follow simple instructions, he's standing by your gargoyle," replied Severus.
Albus nodded. "Then perhaps you'd like to take some deep breaths before Minerva gets here."
Severus glared at him.
"That wasn't a suggestion, Severus. Minerva will be here in two minutes. Thank you."
Albus picked up his quill and continued with some paperwork. Severus huffed, sat down angrily in a chair and took a moment to relax.
Only under torture would he admit he felt better by the time Minerva arrived.
"What's he done to you now?" asked Minerva to Severus, taking a seat in another chair.
"Would you like me to tell you exactly what he said?" asked Severus, knowing Minerva didn't generally like hearing expletives, unless during a tense quidditch game.
Minerva sighed and made a 'get on with it' gesture with her hand.
"He told me to my face to fuck off." Severus enjoyed watching her expression. It went from 'What petty thing have you got now?' through 'He said what?!' to 'How dare he?!'
Dumbledore simply looked disappointed.
"Out of curiosity, what remark did you make to him first?" asked Dumbledore knowing his Potions professor.
"He was eating alone in the great hall and I asked him if he was over celebrity fame already," admitted Snape, refusing to feel abashed.
"You've said worse before," admitted Dumbledore with a sigh. "However, Severus, this isn't the first time I've had to tell you to stop goading Mr Potter. Is it?"
Snape was silent for a moment. He didn't want to have this conversation with Minerva listening. Albus did tend to make one feel small when he gave out a dressing down.
"Is it?" Albus insisted.
"No, Headmaster," agreed Severus, altering his tone to sound a little apologetic.
Albus considered the situation for a few moments. The whole situation, not just this latest incident. Potter did indeed deserve punishment for this, but Severus was at fault too. Severus did only see James, because physically that was obvious. And given Potter had gone to the lions, the boy had certain characteristics. But Severus had promised a long time ago to look after Lily's son. Severus was about to make good on that promise.
"But you put fault with Potter's attitude and behaviour solely at Potter's feet, don't you Severus?" Albus asked.
"Obviously, Albus. How difficult is basic manners? Getting organised? Treating staff with respect? Not expecting the world to bow to every whim? He's a spoiled child, and you know it! He should have been brought into line a long time ago."
"And not doing that is Minerva's fault, is it?" asked Albus in tones that said,'You're on thin ice, Severus'.
Albus smiled on the inside. Severus was still manipulatable. Not much, but just enough.
Severus glanced at Minerva apologetically, "That wasn't what I meant."
"Well, Severus," said Albus, "Today is your lucky day. The decision about Potter's punishment is yours."
"Albus!" exclaimed Minerva, angered and protective of her lion.
"You are aware how I discipline my house, aren't you, Headmaster?" asked Severus, curiously.
"I am aware, yes. The reason the decision is yours is because I have decided, seeing as you clearly believe you can support Mr Potter better than the rest of us have been doing, that you will from now on be mentoring Mr Potter. Twice a week for an hour each time."
"Albus!" exclaimed Severus in the same scandalised tones Minerva had just used.
"Minerva," said Dumbledore, "I will keep a close eye on the situation. Your lion will be fine."
Minerva glared at Albus. So did Severus, but both for different reasons.
"Severus, I have a good idea what punishment you're about to dole out to Mr Potter," said Dumbledore calmly, "I will tell you now, I will find out what it is, mainly because you will tell me, and I know you are not foolish enough to lie to me. If I consider it cruel or unreasonable I will personally dole out the same punishment to you. Do you understand?"
Minerva looked at Severus smugly.
"I have never and will never abuse a child under my care, Headmaster. You know this," said Severus darkly. "You know I am harsh, rigid and unbending to the rules in my classroom because the dunderheads could easily kill themselves, and you know I am like that with my house to give them both the structure they want and sometimes someone to unite against. It works. Teaching is not a popularity contest."
"I'm glad we're all on the same page," said Dumbledore brightly. "Let's invite Mr Potter in to hear his fate then, shall we?
Harry stood in front of Dumbledore's desk. None of the three staff looked pleased. Two of them looked disappointed. The other glowered.
"Mr Potter," said Dumbledore, "Do you agree that after Professor Snape asked if you'd had enough of celebrity, you told him to… get lost, shall we say?"
Harry nodded. He was in big trouble.
"A verbal response please," said Dumbledore sternly.
"Y… yes, sir,"
"Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
Harry thought briefly about keeping his mouth shut. It didn't work, he'd had enough. The misery he'd been in for the last few weeks flashed into anger.
"You mean like someone putting my name into a competition for upper years and then being told I've got to compete, else the general consensus is that I might lose some or all of my magical abilities? That kind of thing?" Harry snapped.
A bit of his brain was leaping up in the air trying to get the attention of his mouth. It was being ignored.
All three adults in the room leveled their best teacher stares at him. For some suicidal reason he didn't care. He simply stood there, staring back, waiting for them to say something.
"Quite finished, Mr Potter?" asked Snape, acidly.
Harry glared back at him.
"Mr Potter," said Dumbledore, coolly, "While I can appreciate the sentiment of what you are saying, you are in enough trouble as it is. I suggest you employ silence if you have nothing positive to add," said Dumbledore.
"We have decided that you need some extra support, not solely that of your head of house. This person will mentor you because, as you say, you have been entered into a competition that is designed for students much older than yourself. You will need self-discipline to compete, you will need to manage your current anger at the situation."
Harry wondered where this was going. So far, that sounded more like a reward than punishment for telling the Bat of the Dungeons where he could get off.
"This same person will choose how you should be punished for today's transgression too. Your mentor has no connection to Gryffindor house. They will look at your academic success as well, to make sure you continue to achieve academically despite having to compete. Having a mentor is not a punishment, whatever you may think. You will spend two hours per week minimum with your mentor. These are not detentions, although I feel the first session will be unpleasant. You will be punished for speaking, ah, out of turn to Professor Snape. Your mentor will likely employ a different method of punishment than you are used to. I am aware of it and give my consent to it."
Harry looked worried. He didn't like the sound of that.
"Sir," he said, "Who is my mentor going to be?"
Dumbledore looked over to his Potions teacher, "Professor Snape."
Harry's mouth fell open, but no words came out.
"Inside," said Snape, shortly. Harry didn't think he sounded mad. But Snape must be mad with him, that wasn't in question. However Snape at least wasn't currently being snide and cutting.
Harry went into Snape's office and stood in front of his desk. Snape sat down and looked at Harry over steepled fingers. His eyes bored into Harry for an uncomfortable amount of time. Harry dropped his gaze to the desk.
"Mentoring you, Mr Potter," said Snape, "Wasn't my idea. But here we are."
Harry was surprised. That was perhaps the nicest tone Snape had used with him ever. That is to say, it was neutral.
"We are, let's say, stuck with each other for the foreseeable future, and I don't want to have to listen to your entitled teenage diatribe about how unfair things are."
Ah, thought Harry, much better. More normal.
"The first thing that's going to happen is that you are going to be punished for this morning's outburst. Then, we will draw a line under it and I will mentor you. You might not appreciate the following as a fact, Mr Potter, but contrary to the belief of you and your friends, I'm not trying to kill you. I simply don't appreciate how you carry on."
Harry opened his mouth to argue. Snape raised a finger. Harry shut it again.
"So, in order that I don't have to put up with your tantrum over what's going to happen when you are punished I'm going to bring a neutral party to the conversation."
Eh? thought Harry.
"Name any member of Slytherin house who you believe would speak to you truthfully, Mr Potter."
"I… I'm not sure what you mean," said Harry. "Sir" he added belatedly.
Snape caught himself before biting Potter's head off for not simply following the instruction without wanting a why first.
"You will feel that I am treating you unjustly, bullying you, abusing you," said Snape, "If I simply punish you how I deem appropriate. I am the head of Slytherin house. You have heard me complain at length about the behaviour of your house. Therefore you can assume that my house behaves differently. I can't imagine you've ever wondered why that is."
Harry began to feel uncomfortable. He had no frame of reference for where this conversation was going.
"So, I invite you to pick any member of my house who you will believe, and I will have them explain how my house functions, Mr Potter. Choose."
Harry thought. Apart from 'This is weird', he did think another student would at least guarantee Snape wasn't allowed to cut him up for potions ingredients or sell him to Filch as a slave for the year.
He quickly discounted any Slytherin he shared a class with. That left the quidditch team. He knew who was on the team. He wanted an older person, but not a seventh year though, they might be too, well, Snape-like."
"Adrian Pucey."
"Any particular reason?" asked Snape, curiously.
"He's not Malfoy?" suggested Harry.
"I can't fault that logic, Mr Potter," replied Snape. Snape summoned an elf, "Please inform Adrian Pucey I'd like to speak to him here now, please," said Snape. The elf popped away.
Pop!
Adrian turned round at the sound. He was discussing yesterday's Transfiguration lesson with his classmates. They were debating how mad their head of house would be when he found out they'd messed around in McGonagall's lesson and lost points. Specifically for Pucey answering back after being caught. It was the answering back part that bothered Adrian. His Head of House might even consider that rude.
"Mr Pucey, Professor Snape wishes to see you in his office now," said the elf. It popped away.
Adrian left the common room to catcalls behind him.
"We'll have a cushioning charm waiting for your return!"
Adrian looked very nervous when he entered Snape's office. Potter was standing in front of Snape's desk. Snape pierced him with a look. "Guilty conscience, Mr Pucey?" asked Snape.
"Sir?" asked Pucey, unsure quite what was going on with Potter there.
"I'll take that as a yes," said Snape.
Snape knew what was making Adrian nervous. He'd seen the hourglass yesterday and had asked around the staffroom. Adrian's behaviour had bordered on rude. Perhaps worthy of a dressing down. If suitably contrite, he'd make it back to the common room in one piece. Snape was glad Potter had picked Adrian. This conversation would suffice as the older boy's punishment too.
"Mr Pucey," said Snape, laying down the ground rules, "This meeting of minds will remain confidential. You will not utter a word of it to anyone. Not your classmates, not your teammates, not your family, nor your friends. Do you understand?"
Snape skewered Adrian with a look of deadly seriousness. Adrian nodded, more afraid of his head of house than he'd been in a while.
"Yes, sir."
"I'm glad we understand each other. Now, Mr Pucey, hypothetically speaking, what would I do to you if you told me to fuck off?"
Adrian's brain stopped functioning. He just stood there. Several seconds passed.
"P… P… Please, sir, I didn't, I never would, I wouldn't say it to any other professors, I didn't, I… I…" It wasn't that Snape had actually used an expletive in a sentence that had stunned Pucey. Slytherins were pretty sure Snape was a swearer, they just didn't hear him do it. It wasn't that. It was the mind-bending terror that Snape thought he had done, and the consequences thereof.
Snape waited until the gibbering had stopped. "I didn't say you did, it was a hypothetical. For the benefit of Mr Potter here."
Pucey's brain still wasn't quite firing on all cylinders. The concept of telling Snape to… well it didn't actually bear thinking about.
He eventually found some words. "You'd go spare, sir," said Adrian weakly.
"Define spare."
"Like actually?"
"Yes, Mr Pucey, like actually," replied Snape. Snape was enjoying watching Adrian. He wouldn't be rude to Minerva again until the day he left school.
"You'd, you'd, well, you know."
"I do, yes," said Snape, "But Mr Potter doesn't. I was hoping you could enlighten him."
Adrian's brain had had a few seconds to calm down. Seconds to realise Snape hadn't actually thought he'd told Professor McGonagall to… which he hadn't, but Merlin, the terror he'd just felt! His brain had had a few more seconds to realise he might get out of this office without going over Snape's desk. And a further few more to realise Potter was totally screwed.
Adrian looked at Snape's desk. Not Potter's face. He just couldn't. "Professor Snape keeps a ruler in his desk drawer. You're going over his desk. You're gonna get your backside tanned. It's gonna hurt."
Silence descended for a few seconds. Snape was looking directly at Harry while Adrian was speaking.
"You can't! That's not… You're not… Like hell, you are!" shouted Harry at Snape.
Adrian closed his eyes and prayed to anything going to get him out of there right that second. He kept them closed all through the next words too. He daren't even look towards his head of house.
"Cannot, Potter?" Snape whispered silkily, "You swear at me, your punishment is set by the Headmaster no less, I make sure that I am not seen to abuse you, yet you persist in shouting at me? Where do you expect this conversation to go from here?"
Adrian was trying to make himself as still as possible. He was in the same room as someone yelling at his head of house. Ground zero was not a good place to be.
"You're just a bully!" yelled Harry.
Snape could spot a teenage rebellion tantrum a mile away. They used to end with said teenager running out of his office and slamming the door. But not since Snape started wordlessly locking the door. It saved time.
Harry turned to run out of the room. The door didn't budge. Neither had Pucey. He was still standing in front of Snape's desk with his eyes shut praying to the universe at large.
Snape sat down behind his desk. For all the world to see as calm as anything. But Adrian knew he was annoyed.
"Mr Pucey."
Adrian's eyes snapped open. "Sir," he breathed.
"Please explain to Mr Potter the futility of running away."
Adrian swallowed. "Because it's pointless. You could run up to the owlery, or out onto the quidditch pitch, but eventually you'll have to come back in. And the punishment will still be there."
Harry had stopped trying the doorknob.
"But he can't. I'm a Gryffindor." There was a beseeching quality to Harry's voice.
"He can," said Snape quietly, "Because the Headmaster decreed it so. I would rather not have to ask him to come through the floo and tell you to bend over the desk, but I suppose we can't have everything. Should I call him, Mr Potter?"
Harry stood motionless.
"You heard the Headmaster, Mr Potter. He said you would be punished using a different method of punishment than you are used to, and that it would be unpleasant. You now know exactly what he meant. It would be much easier on yourself to accept this punishment."
Harry shook his head.
Snape's eyes bored into him. "So you shouldn't be punished for insulting me to my face? Or you just think that I shouldn't be allowed to be the one to do it? Or you feel you should only get a few poxy detentions for it, do you? That publicly insulting a Professor is fair game if it's me, hmm?"
Pucey really didn't know where to look any more. His shoes were fascinating.
"Which one of those things is it, Potter?" sneered Snape.
Silence.
"Answer me!" Snape's hand slammed into his desktop. Adrian quivered. He was nearer the desk than Harry.
"That you shouldn't do it," whispered Harry, "You've wanted to do this since the day I got here."
"Ah, I see," said Snape, his anger waning. Potter was afraid.
"Mr Pucey, you are personally acquainted with how I punish my house. I will not have it said I am torturing Mr Potter. Go stand in the corner. Face the wall. I only need your witness. Mr Potter, the Headmaster decreed your punishment. It is time to pay the piper. Place your hands on the desk and bend over."
Snape reached into his drawer and retrieved a wooden ruler. He stood up and waited, looking at Harry.
"I haven't got all day," said Snape brusquely, business-like, even. The same way he spoke to his house when he rulered them too. The disappointment or anger was always before. He never rulered a student when he was angry. Even if calming down first took an hour.
"You will not be leaving until this is done. There is even a witness to prove I'm not the utter bastard you think I am. Now, Mr Potter."
Harry looked at Snape, the ruler and the desk. The Headmaster decreed it. McGonagall agreed to it. Harry swallowed. He edged over to the desk and put his hands on it, bending forward.
"H… How many?" asked Harry, afraid.
"I would say until you are contrite, except I'd wear my ruler out," remarked Snape. "Let's call it ten, shall we?"
Adrian winced when he heard the first swat land. He'd stood here before, facing the wall while Montague got his, awaiting his own turn. They'd been messing around on the quidditch pitch after dark being reckless. Judging from the sound, Potter wasn't getting much worse than that. Pucey was glad he'd only got six though.
Professor Snape walked back to his side of the desk and replaced the ruler in the drawer.
"Well, Mr Potter, you appear to have survived your punishment. You may stand. Mr Pucey, you may go. I suggest an apology to Professor McGonagall wouldn't go amiss, don't you agree?
"Yes, sir," said Adrian, exiting the office with as much speed as he could muster without being told not to run.
"You deserved that, you know," said Snape, factually, rather than snidely. Harry didn't say anything. "And don't look at me like that either, it won't work. My first year Slytherins try it the first time too. In fact for many, there is only one time - they learn. I am immune to you making me feel guilty for justly punishing you. Now, I believe it is still before the start of the first lesson, Mr Potter, such a busy day you're having. I feel obliged to tell you I charm my ruler, don't use healing balms, you'll have an adverse reaction. I will see you back here this evening at 7pm for your first mentoring session. Don't be late. You can call it what you like to your friends if you wish to save face. I suggest you take a moment before leaving to compose yourself, the nearest bathrooms are at the end of the corridor if you need to wash your face. Good day, Mr Potter."
At morning break Albus tracked down Severus in his classroom.
"Well?" asked Albus.
"He got ten with the ruler. What did you expect? He swore at me, Albus, in front of other students."
Albus smiled, "Not at all, Severus, I'm surprised it was only that few."
"Well, the year is still young and you want me to spend an extra two hours a week in his presence, Albus. There needs to be a worse threat still waiting for him."
"Silly me," said Albus dryly.
Adrian sat with his housemates at lunch.
"Sitting, Pucey?" snickered Montague. "I'm impressed. How was it?"
"I have never been so terrified in my life," shuddered Adrian truthfully.