NOTES: Much longer chapters begin here. The text of Harry's letter regarding Snape is pulled directly from neutral's Half of Dueling Range.
Barbara- Thank you! as you can read below, Snape meets Harry for the first time, though I focus more on the fallout that results since JKR did such a fantastic job with that scene in the book and the movie . . . wow. Rickman as Snape was inspired if you ask me. Whoever cast him deserves an award.
TeeDee- Ah yes Padfoot's reaction to Harry's belief that he outlived his parents for 1 purpose only . . . it will be a reoccurring theme in this story as you can see from the chapter below. Kudos to you for picking it up. Thank you for your kind review.
Badger Lord- I do want to do some slightly unique things with Draco and Harry. Not too much in first year, but second definitely. I don't like to use "enemy" characters only as two dimensional foils for the "heroes." Draco is still Draco, but I see him as more than just a bully. That's Crabbe and Goyles' jobs. Wouldn't want to take that from them.
LilPup- We will definitely be seeing what the Marauders are up to while Harry is at school. More so in these early chapters than later on, but they will be there.
rayvern- The mentions of the battle and the ruined castle of Hogwarts much like Harry having held Voldemort's wand are hints at later plot points and twists in Clawtracks to Stars. I ran them by neutral first though. She said for the most part I'd read her mind. ;)
CHAPTER V: You've Got Owl Post!
It was night. In the dorm now filled with other Gryffindors breathing quietly, Harry looked up from his letter and absently reached out to run his hand down the red curtains that were partially closed around his bed. It was late, but he felt too alert in this strange place to sleep.
The castle was huge and there were hundreds of children and at least a dozen or so adults. He was using this time of quiet to write to his godfather and Moony. He had decided to wait until after the first day of classes and not write after the Welcoming Feast. He didn't want Padfoot to worry that he wasn't adjusting or wasn't safe, he was.
Well, sort of.
Pushing aside distracting thoughts and half memories of dreams, he stared down at what he had scratched onto his parchment.
Dear Padfoot and Moony,
Dipping his quill in ink, Harry continued.
I'm here at Hogwarts.
Harry stopped writing. Sirius knew where he was. He struck that line out.
I'm sitting in the first year dorm.
That was better.
at Hogwarts, he added after a moment.
All right, Harry thought staring at his very first letter, this is not so hard.
He'd never written a letter, much less a letter home.
Hogwarts was very different from home, but the place was magic, it filled his senses. He couldn't help but love it after all the stories his guardians had told him. Sometimes he thought that if he turned a corner fast enough, peered through a hidden corridor as silent as a mouse, he'd catch sight of the students who went here before. The whole castle seemed to be filled with the presence and sound of children past.
Classes were all right-- the ones he'd had so far. It was good review and Harry could sit soaking up the magic of Hogwarts, dropping all of his self made barriers and control. It was a huge relief; he hadn't realized how much concentration it took to keep them up.
He leaned over the parchment intently, and continued.
The train ride was very long. I did as you said and bought lots of sweets. I shared them with a boy called Ron Weaseley and another named Draco Malfoy. They are both from all wizarding families. I also met a girl named Hermonee Granger who was looking for a lost Toad. She's muggleborn.
Harry sat up and stared at his letter so far. Not bad. He hoped he had spelled everyone's names right. It was rather odd that whenever anyone introduced themselves they talked about what their family was, wizard, muggle or mixed. Harry supposed it must be important for some reason or another, though hopeful not for those rather bigoted remarks Draco had made in the Robe shop that day in Diagon Alley.
We went over the lake just like you said. It was so beautiful seeing the castle lit up. The welcoming Feast was very nice. Padfoot, you owe Moony 5 sickles. It was roast beef for dinner just like he said.
Sorting was a surprise. I see now why you thought I wouldn't believe that a talking hat sorted students into their houses. Everyone was really surprised when Professor McGonnagall called my name. Everyone knows who I am.
Harry decided not to mention the stares and the whispers that followed him from class to class. He, who had know only a bare handful of people his whole life, was suddenly instantly popular.
Or more accurately, the scar was instantly popular.
He rubbed it absently. He didn't think about it at all really. It hurt on rare occasions, usually dream related. Most days back home Harry forgot that he even had the scar all together.
Well, he decided, Remus had gone to school here and he was a werewolf. Okay, so unlike Moony everyone knew him and his big "secret." Still, Sirius always said that Remus won people over, got them to look beyond the fur and the teeth. Harry decided that that was what he was going to do. He wasn't going to go and get Padfoot all worried and growly about it like he did at the Leaky Cauldron.
Harry turned back to his letter, penning his words to the parchment with ease in the faint moonlight.
The dorm room is very nice. Sorting took a very long time. The hat talked to me but I don't think anyone else heard it but me. It kept looking and looking, trying to make up its mind. Do hats have minds?
It said I was very loyal and smart. That Hat remembered both of you too. I sat up there for a long time. My new house seemed very -------- happy that I'm with them. I've already had Transfiguration this morning and Charms in the afternoon.
Harry considered his wand careful where it lay beside him. He'd not bothered with a lumos spell, there being enough light with the nearly full moon, but partially because he didn't trust it yet. Things came easier letting the magic work as it willed.
He'd tried to transfigure a matchstick into a needle with a flick of his wand earlier in class today. To his shock, nothing happened. Magic had always worked for him, and now for the first time he failed at a spell.
For one terrifying moment he thought the magic was gone, had abandoned him, that the constant presence that seemed to flow through his veins instead of blood, the magic in him that had brought Padfoot into his life and taken him far, far away from the Dursleys, had left him.
Pushing panic aside, trying to calm his pounding heart, Harry had realized that it was the wand, not him. He was forced to hold back to even use it properly. As frustrating as it was that the wand core was slow to adapt, he knew from handling Voldemort's wand that it could. At least it made keeping pace with his classmate's more believable.
But he wasn't going to write about the wand to Sirius. He didn't like it at all when Harry mentioned Voldemort.
Using a wand is different.
Harry looked at what he had written, nodded, and moved on.
Tomorrow we have Potions and Herbology. I wish I could be there tomorrow night for the full moon. Please be safe both of you and have fun running around in the woods.
Love,
Harry
Pleased, Harry tore off the sheet of parchment from the role at the end, preparing to fold it. Nearby on the dresser, Hedwig fluttered, anxious to carry a letter.
Harry was just about to affix the wax when he realized he completely forgotten to tell the most important news of all.
Pulling out his letter he wrote on the back in a careful hand.
P.S. I'm in Gryffindor
Remus looked over at the muffled noises at his elbow. "See?" he said waiving the letter he'd just finished reading at Sirius. "He sounds quite happy."
"Mmph!"
"Not one complaint," the werewolf said pleased.
"Rmmph!"
"He sounds like he's having the time of his life."
Silence.
Remus actually looked at Sirius bound and gagged by magic on the carpet, no longer struggling, just glaring.
"Calm now? Not going to selfishly hoard Harry's letters any more? Not going to keep me from reading it when it's addressed to both of us? See?" Moony brandished the letter again. "Dear Padfoot AND MOONY."
Sirius nodded reluctantly and was released with a wave of the werewolf's wand. Sirius scowled and sat up. "My name was first." He grumbled. "I should get to read it."
"But you wouldn't read it aloud."
Sirius pouted. "Fine. May I see the letter?"
Remus calmly handed it to him. Sirius scanned it with brow furrowed. "I think you skipped a part."
"What part? Where?" Moony asked peering over his friend's arm.
"What House Harry is in. He talks about the hat, about what it said about being loyal. Oh Merlin, you don't think he's a Hufflepuff do you?" Padfoot whispered, horrified.
"Harry? A Hufflepuff?" Remus scoffed. "Let me see." He grabbed the letter back from the black haired Marauder. "See, the hat said he was very smart."
"Ravenclaw? If he was a Ravenclaw why doesn't he say so?" Sirius snatched the parchment away from the werewolf. "Do you think . . " Sirius said slowly. "Do you think he's afraid to tell us what House he got sorted into? Do you think Harry's in--in . . ." Padfoot shook his head vehemently, unable to even voice the thought.
Moony tugged at the paper until he could see Harry's words clearly. "He doesn't mention the hat saying he was brave or courageous at all."
"And look! Look! He mentions Malfoy's son. He's got to be in Slytherin just like his bastard father. And see! He crossed out the word "excited" and put in "happy" instead. No Slytherin would be happy that Harry was there, but excited, oh yes. Some of them would be excited about the prospects of killing my godson under orders from their parents!" Padfoot was practically snarling in anger waving the letter like a battle flag.
Lupin's eyes caught on a scribble of writing on the back. "Wait! Wait!"
"Wait what? I'm firecalling Dumbledore right now!"
Moony made a grab for the letter, managing to retrieve it before it was crumbled in Sirius's fists.
"Albus should have told us the moment this happened. And here I thought Harry would be safe in Hogwarts," Sirius groaned, tugging on his hair. "I'm taking him out and bringing him home right--"
"P.S. I'm in Gryffindor," Remus called after Sirius.
The Animagus froze in the doorway for a moment before whirling around. He stormed back over to Remus and snatched up the letter reading the wobbly postscript on the back.
Smiling, he folded the letter careful back up, cool as a cucumber. Moony eyed him warily. These mood swings were getting downright scary.
"Of course Harry's in Gryffindor," Padfoot said happily. "Where else would he be? Probably so excited that he forgot until just sending off the letter with Hedwig." Sirius stared down at his smirking friend. "You realize what this means don't you?"
"That you overreact more than James' Great Aunt Gwendolyn?" Moony asked innocently.
"No, it means you've just proved how incompetent at letter reading you are. Not even checking for a P.S. No more letter reading for you, Mister Moony."
Remus stood facing his friend confrontationally, poking him once in the chest for emphasis. "Mister Moony would like to inform Mister Padfoot that such a statement is regarded as an act of war."
Sirius stood taller, eyes narrowing with anticipation. "Mister Padfoot welcomes your pathetic attempts with the full future enjoyment of mocking them all."
"Wands then?"
"Wands, sir."
Both men assumed the dueling position, turned and began to pace off steps.
Hedwig watched the two of them from the fireplace mantle and hooted indignantly. Humans. She'd barely escaped with her tail feathers when the two had begun to fight over the letter. Her boy made so much more sense. He even had his own feathers occasionally. Realizing she wouldn't get a reply now to deliver to her boy, she flew up the stairs to the owlry leaving the two Marauder's hurling curses and hexes at each other.
Much later when the more embarrassing charms and hexes had worn off the two Marauders lay sprawled on the couch, exhausted in the quiet house.
Harry had been at school only a couple of days and already the place felt so much bigger and emptier than before. Not that Harry was loud or messy or anything. But his presence was felt and now sorely missed. For one thing, if Moony had to listen to one more second of Sirius's complaints about boredom . . .
"Why don't you go out and do something?" Remus asked in exasperation.
Sirius picked at the fabric of the couch. "Like what?"
"Like get a job!"
"A job?" Sirius repeated dumbfounded.
"Yes. You remember? Work, an occupation?"
Sirius opened and closed his mouth a number of times like a guppy. "A job," he repeated still stunned.
The werewolf rolled his eyes. "Anything to get you out of haunting this house."
"I'm not--!"
"Yes, you are!" Lupin countered, sitting up. "Your life since Azkaban has been as secluded as Harry's. Hell, your life since Azkaban has been only Harry--"
"There's nothing wrong with that!" Sirius interrupted hotly. "Harry needs--"
"He does need you, he always will need you most likely, but he's at school, safe. You need to think about you too!"
"Well, what about you, Moony?" Padfoot sputtered. "Other than the occasional slaying--"
"I write," he informed his friend. "I've been writing articles in academia for years. You and Harry have read most of them. Now I've been working on a Defense book, under a pseudonym of course. I've been thinking about taking on more field work for research purposes."
"But . . I don't need to work," Sirius said dazedly.
"It will do you some good," Moony said firmly. His eyes softened. "I know we don't talk about it, but you survived Azkaban sane for over half a decade. You escaped and held yourself together for Harry. But what about Padfoot, my friend? I worry for him. I worry that his universe revolves around one little boy, that he'll one day crack and break."
"Now wait just a--"
The werewolf ignored the interruption, continuing on inexorably. "I worry for Harry who's whole world revolves around you and his . . . misconceived perception of duty to the wizarding world," Lupin growled the last part. They both knew where that idea had come from. The alternate universe's Albus Dumbledore had used what little time he'd had Harry under his care to plant that concept deep in the boy's mind. Harry had nearly happily martyred himself for the Cause at age nine while adult wizards and witches watched safe from a distance as a black haired green eyes boy marched alone into battle with the greatest Dark Lord their world had ever seen in an Age.
"You've both got to live life for yourselves, not just each other. You taught me that, you and Harry, and James and Lily. I'm not just the wolf. You are not just a godfather. Harry is not a martyr and a tool to be used. We're people. People have jobs. Remember, Padfoot?"
Sirius sighed and closed his eyes. "When did you get so smart?"
"I seem to remember always being this smart."
Blue eyes popped open. "Do I come across as crazy?" Padfoot asked earnestly.
Remus struggled not to choke upon hearing the question. "Noooo, just . . ." Remus for the first time had to think hard for words. "intense, focused, driven. And with good cause. You've been holding on for so long. Relax." He punched his friend in the arm. "Do something for Sirius."
"I can do that. I can." Sirius scoffed.
"Of course. Go!" Remus said gesturing expansively. "Find work! Stop haunting the house."
Laughing, Sirius got to his feet. "Okay! Okay!"
Harry knocked tentatively on the modest hut's door.
It swung open and filled with the massive form of Hogwarts' groundskeeper.
"Harry! Good to see yeh!"
Harry smiled up at the man. "Hullo Hagrid. I got your letter," he said holding up the note.
"Yer jest in time fer tea. Come in, come in."
Harry entered, staring around in amazement at the myriad things stacked in corners, at the cages and bundles handing from the ceiling. He climbed onto the seat and nodded gratefully as Hagrid placed a cup of milky sweet tea in front of him.
"So, " Hagrid began cheerfully. "How are yeh enjoying Hogwarts, then?"
"It's wonderful." Harry sipped his tea carefully.
Hagrid brought out a plate of cakes, moving aside the Daily Prophet to place the offerings before the first year. Harry took a cake, a bit surprised that the gray stone color matched the consistency of the pastry. His eye suddenly caught the headline detailing a break in at Gringotts. The picture showed a very familiar vault entrance.
"Vault 713," Harry whispered remembering the breakfast he'd had with the man at Diagon Alley and the important business Hagrid had been on. He looked up hurriedly to meet Hagrid's eyes, shrinking in his seat as he realized that he'd spoken aloud.
"That's Hogwarts business. No need to worry now," Hagrid scolded gently, pulling the paper away and folding it into one of the many pockets of his massive coat that lay across an empty chair. Harry, watched as the paper disappeared from view, and not wanting to break his teeth on the cake, attempted to dunk a corner of the large biscuit into his rather small tea cup.
"So," Harry pressed tentatively, not wanting to anger the giant man, but the gamekeeper had been very kind since Harry had met him so he thought he could risk it. "So whatever was in the vault is safe?"
Hagrid smiled. "Don't yeh worry on it. Hogwarts is the safest place in the wizardin' world."
Harry nodded, gnawing on a corner of the still unblemished cake.
"How are classes? Enjoyin' being with all yer yearmates?"
Harry shrank in his seat, remembering the laboratory he'd just escaped from minutes earlier. "Classes are good," he answered carefully. "Though . . . though I don't think Professor Snape likes me very much," Harry whispered desperately.
He'd been singled out, questioned, ridiculed. It was his fault, according to the professor, that Neville got hurt so badly from his botched potion. He hadn't meant to hurt Neville. Everyone had stared, a lot of the other students had laughed. For an instant, sitting in that dank classroom listening to Snape's voice practically spit the word "celebrity" at him Harry wasn't sure he could to this, all these people wanting, expecting, watching because . . . because he was . . .
The Boy Who Lived.
Even thinking about that title made Harry want to hide.
Harry stared down at his tea. "He asked me these questions . . . I knew one of them, but--" Harry swallowed audibly and twisted his hands in his lap. "I wish I knew what I did wrong so I could fix it," he confessed.
Hagrid harrumphed, sitting back in his creaking chair. "Well, Professor Snape is a member of the Hogwarts staff. Professor Dumbledore hired him. Great man Dumbledore," The massive man said with a firm nod.
Harry wilted. He really shouldn't have criticized Professor Snape.
"But," Hagrid said sharply, leaning over the table as if to impart a vastly important secret to the boy, "Snape can be a grumpy old bat on most occasions. Don't yeh pay any mind to his grumbling. He likes everyone to be just as miserable as him."
Blinking in delighted shock, Harry barely managed to stifle a laugh.
The bearded man grinned broadly in response.
"Now don't yeh be de tellin' anyone I said that," He added hurriedly. Harry hid his smile quickly and tipped some of his tea into his saucer and placed the cake in there to hopefully soften by sometime next year. "Don't want to be accuse of tellin' tales now do I?"
They enjoyed tea, Harry listening quietly as Hagrid told him all about the many creatures he had met over the years.
It was the most relaxing afternoon Harry had spent since coming to Hogwarts. There were no stares, no people talking loudly about him as if he were deaf. There was no constant stream of people coming over to introduce themselves, to shake his hand, to stare at his scar. For one hour that blissful fall afternoon, there was no wand to struggle with, no memories to quell, no deep pervasive fear that something . . . dangerous would happen soon. There was no dreaded potion class. There was only tea, and cakes, and Hagrid.
That night after Harry had sent off a letter to his guardians detailing his day, only briefly mentioning that Professor Snape didn't seem to like him that much, he curled up on his bed in the dark. He reached out and ran his hand across his bed post, fingering the initials carved into the wood by a former occupant years ago.
J.H.P.
Hogwarts could be home too. Being here could be more than just because he needed to.
Smiling in the dark, Harry slept.
Remus had just gotten settled.
He had his cup of tea, some biscuits, his favorite quill and a comfy pillow behind his back to prevent more serious back aches laying him out for a week. He was all set for a long writing jag. Ideas fermented in his brain. His book was coming together. He'd had every hope of finishing several chapters today when Padfoot had descended.
Sirius had taken hold of the idea of getting a job and was shaking it like the oversized puppy he was. He had burst into his office causing Moony to splotch his ink and tip over his tea into his lap.
Decidedly soggy, he listened incredulously as Padfoot explained he wanted to do something called "brainstorming" to decide what job to take. It sounded rather odd and decidedly muggle. But then Sirius had always had a very wide variety of interests.
Moony despaired of ever getting back the quiet of his study and his book. "How about going back to the Ministry?" he asked at wits end.
The black haired Marauder looked up from his list of job possibilities. He commandeered Moony's favorite quill (and was now chewing on it having devoured all the chocolate biscuits), ink, and a good portion of his parchment to scribble his ideas down. "Ministry work? The same Ministry that oh, say, denied me a trial and threw me into Azkaban. That Ministry?" Sirius snorted. "Besides even if I did have faith in the system, it's just too time intensive, too much commitment."
Remus tried in vain to blot out the tea from his trousers with a sopping handkerchief. "All you have is time!"
Sirius worried his lower lip. "Something might come up. We might get a call from Hogwarts. Harry might . . ."
Remus smiled. "That's true. If he's half as much trouble as James, we should makes sure to have plenty of free time."
Sirius grinned at the thought, pushing away darker concerns. "So I'm looking for part time. Occasional work."
"You could always volunteer at something," Remus suggested jokingly.
Sirius sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps. Money really isn't any sort of issue. Anyway, I turned in my application to the employment agency several days ago. I have an appointment this afternoon about my prospects."
"If you're using an employment agency, why are you bothering me with your brain raining exercise?" Remus demanded incredulously.
"Brainstorming," Padfoot corrected.
"Brain rain, brain hail, brain anything, just leave me be and let me write my book!"
But--"
"Out!"
Jillian Hallowell waved the rather good-looking wizard into her office as she finished her firecall. One of her junior assistants had failed to find this applicant any interviews let alone any potential positions. Deciding to show her staff that no client was impossible to place, she had taken the case herself. There was no excuse for not having a prospect for their client.
Everyone was placeable. Everyone.
It was their company motto.
Opening up the file on her desk, she looked from the name on the paperwork and up at the man seated before her and then back to her paperwork. This must be some kind of joke. "Mr. . . . uh . . ."
"Black. Sirius Black."
Jillian peered carefully at the black haired man in front of her. Impossible, she scoffed. Must be some office joke. When I get my hands on Paul . . . "Sirius Black," she said sweetly deciding to play along for now. "Is that your real name?"
"Yes," the man said slowly, staring at her.
Jillian couldn't hide her smirk. Well, at least he's hot. "The godfather of the Boy Who Lived?"
The black haired man positively beamed. "Harry's my godson, yes."
Either this man was a damn good actor or . . . Jillian surreptitiously opened her desk drawer where her copy of The Crystal Ball sat proclaiming such headlines as "Banshee Gives Birth to Screaming Frog Spawn, Picture on Page 2," "Merlin's Face Found On Side of Building; Apocalypse Nigh." and of course "Sirius Black's Insane Rampage at King's Cross Station. Former Death Eater Kills 12 Hogwarts Students."
Carefully peering at the largest of today's sensational headlines complete with picture she compared the man in front of her to the men in the picture.
They were a dead match.
Sirius watched with growing concern as his employment caseworker went pale and began to visibly sweat. "Is something wrong?" Sirius asked.
Jillian jumped, attempting to slam the drawer shut but when it jammed the contents spilled onto the floor. The Crystal Ball floated careful down to join the mass of quills and scraps of parchment.
"Here, let me help," Black got up and came around the desk, ignoring the woman's whimpering protests and helped her with the jammed drawer. He then bend down and picked up the paper and tried to hand it to her. She screeched and backed away as if he had just drawn his wand and told her he was going to kill her.
Confused Sirius stared at the newspaper and the headline. Carefully he laid the folded up paper on her desk.
Scowling (Snapelike, though Sirius would deny it) he said coldly, "Perhaps you didn't know, but I was cleared of all charges a few years ago."
Jillian nodded hard. "Yes, yes of course Mr. Black."
"So," he said retaking his seat. "The other person I talked to said there was a problem. Can you place me in a position immediately or not?"
There was no reply but the audible gulp from the woman across the desk.
"You are an employment firm are you not?" he demanded sharply. "Don't you brag in your adverts that you can place anyone? Within a week? Don't you claim that no person is under qualified, that everyone can find work? Wouldn't want that to be false advertising now would we and . . . disappoint the clients?"
Jillian shook so hard her teeth were rattling. "N-n-n-no sir, n-no of c-course not, Mr. Black. But-but you see--"
"No I don't see. Spell it out for me. Why can't you place me?"
Why? WHY? Because you're a mass murderer! You were in Azkaban and you escaped! But she'd never say anything like that. Jillian didn't want to die at the age of 37, killed by a rabid Death Eater. "It's-it's just that your reputation precedes you."
"My reputation?" Those ice blue eyes narrowed. "As a student with excellent marks from Hogwarts? As the top graduate with a degree from the Avalon Institute of Higher Learning? As a certified and accredited Transfiguration Master? As an Unspeakable? As a war veteran? As a highly qualified wizard? As a damn good beater?
"I-I--"
"Or do you mean as a mass murderer, kidnapper, and a Death Eater, the Dark Son of the Lord Voldemort?!"
She let out a semi intelligent squeak.
"Well?!" Sirius demanded, slamming his fist on her desk. Papers went flying every which way and Jillian scuttled to pick them up, stuttering her answer.
"People, people just don't want . . ."
"Me." Sirius stood towering above the crouched witch. "I see this has been a colossal waste of time and money."
Pride fled and fearing these were her last moments on earth, Jillian decided it wouldn't hurt to beg for mercy. "Please, Mr. Black, d-don't, don't--" she pleaded.
Sirius's storm cloud expression dropped to one of tired exasperation. "Oh, for Merlin's sake."
Grabbing his paperwork off her desk, he left the office.
Disgusted, Sirius had flooed back home after he had received his demanded refund, (plus interest) and found Hedwig waiting with a letter. Pleased, Sirius dropped into a seat in the living room, tossing the agency paperwork without a second thought into the fire.
His hands hesitated for a bare instant before breaking the seal. Remus really didn't need any more interruptions with his book. Sirius would enjoy the letter addressed to the both of them by himself.
After all, what Moony didn't know couldn't hurt him.
Tearing open the envelope, Padfoot devoured the contents of his godson's letter. It calmed him like nothing else could. He could practically hear Harry's voice telling him about his first classes at Hogwarts, the people he'd met, all thing things he'd seen. Harry sounded like things were going well, sound like he was fitting in--
Sirius sat up from his sprawl and reread the last paragraph intently.
I had the first potions class today, and the potions master, Professor Snape, doesn't seem to like me. I'm not sure what I did wrong though but I think it's because I couldn't answer some of the questions he asked (they were really hard! I don't know anything about potions). But in transfiguration…
Severus Snape was a teacher.
Severus Snape was a teacher at Hogwarts.
Severus Snape was a teacher at Hogwarts where Harry was.
Severus Snape was teaching Harry potions.
Sirius Black couldn't get a job as a rubbish man, and Severus Snape Was. Teaching. Children.
Teaching Harry.
Carefully folding the letter back into the envelope Sirius sat back and stared into the fire, brooding darkly. It was one thing for him, Sirius Black, to be ridiculed and disliked just because of his name. But Harry, little six year old Harry who had never hurt anyone, who was a Gryffindor, Lily and James' only son, didn't deserve this kind of treatment especially not from one Severus Snape.
For a brief moment Padfoot considered showing the letter to Moony before pushing the thought aside. No need to get his fellow Marauder upset because of stupid, judgmental people; Moony had had enough of that in his life.
No, this had to be dealt with delicately, with finesse, with the Marauder's touch.
Looking up at Hedwig perched on her usual place on the mantle Sirius smiled a truly wicked smile.
"Up for a round trip back to Hogwarts?" he asked pleasantly.
Hedwig stared down at the human and ruffled her feathers. This one was scary. It was best to get back to her boy as quick as possible. Carefully, she extended her clawed foot.
"Hold that thought," Sirius said. Hedwig watched as he dashed about looking for some quill and parchment. Stretching her wings, she prepared for the long flight back.
"Morning post's here!"
Harry looked up, eyes catching on the snowy wings of his owl. Usually Sirius let Hedwig rest a day after the hours long journey to Moor house, not sending her back right away. Happy that he would receive a reply a day early, he watched as the owl circled the hall once before dive-bombing the head table. Talons releasing, the silent bird swooped away.
"oh, no," Harry whispered as he watched in horror.
A flaming red envelope floated serenely down past the stunned hooked nose of Hogwarts resident Potion Master to land in his hot cereal where it summarily caught fire and exploded.
An oh so familiar voice filled the hall, reverberating so loud the tables shook. Harry risked a single glance at the stunned sour features of Snape. Globs of oatmeal dripped off of his nose.
"YOU DISGUSTING, PETTY, SMALLMINDED GIT! HOW DARE YOU BOTHER MY GODSON! YOU POND SCUM! YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BREATHE THE SAME AIR AS HIM LET ALONE DARE TO PRESUME THAT YOU CAN EVER TALK TO HARRY!"
At the sound of his name, everyone's horrified eyes turned from the stunned features of the Potion Master towards the Gryffindor table. Paling and panicked Harry ducked under the table, wrapping his arms around his knees, shocked and embarrassed.
But it wasn't over, not yet.
"YOU PATHETIC IGNORANT BASTARD! TYPICAL SLYTHERIN, YOU WOULD TAKE OUT YOUR FRUSTRATIONS ABOUT BEING A STUPID PRAT, A SLIMEY SNAPE ON A POOR BOY! GET OVER YOURSELF OR I WILL SEE YOU PICKLED IN YOUR OWN POTION INGREDIENTS! IF YOU EVEN STARE AT MY GODSON THE WRONG WAY, YOU GREASY GIT, I'M GOING TO GOURGE YOUR EYES OUT WITH A SPOON! DO ANYTHING, ANYTHING TO HARRY AGAIN AND I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!"
The letter sputtered for a moment. Harry peeked out from under the table and immediately recognized the shape and the nature of the final spell attached to the red envelope. If no one stopped it, Professor Snape would spend the rest of the term bald as a hardboiled egg.
And Harry would spend it terrorized to within an inch of his life.
Preemptively, Harry reached for his magic.
Just as the red letter of doom sparked, water dumped over the Slytherin's greasy head.
The resulting explosion only singed the man's eyebrows off.
Silence reigned in the hall.
Harry dared not come out from under the table.
The sodden Head of Slytherin rose to his feet. Harry had no doubt the black eyes were fixed on his empty seat at the Gryffindor table.
Harry watched through the feet of his classmates, not even daring to move as the dragon hide boots and black robes stopped beside where he was hiding.
Silence remained unbroken. He held his breath an watched as puddle formed at the Professor's feet.
After a long moment the feet moved on.
The door of the Great Hall opened and then closed.
Laughter exploded, cheering from the Gryffindors, exclamations and boos from the Slytherins. Excited voices swirled around above him.
"Did you see his face?"
"--porridge all over his--"
"I wish I'd brought a camera!"
"Only Potter would dare--"
"A disgrace to send a Professor a--"
"Slimy Snape!"
"They'll let him get away with it, just you watch!"
"Priceless!"
"I've never hear of--"
"Thinks because he's the Boy who Lived--"
"--a Howler to a teacher!"
"Did you see the Fireball?"
"-- of course Potter would--"
"Burned to a crisp without the water!"
"I heard that he's nothing but a-"
"Wish he had!"
"-- completely stuck up, nothing but a spoilt--"
"Harry?" Ron stuck his head under the table. "Harry, are you coming out?"
Harry didn't look up, burying his face in his bent knees, wishing he was back in his dorm room.
"Harry?"
He shook his head; no, he wasn't coming out.
Ron's voice took on a worried tone. "You sure? What about breakfast?"
Again Harry shook his head.
"Okay then," Ron said slowly
"Isn't he coming out?" Hermione's voice rose.
"Harry's fine," Ron replied shortly
"He can't eat under the table. All students must eat at their House table, it says so in--."
"Leave off! He's not eating right now, is he? No need to quote chapter and verse."
"Hey, Harry!" Twin redheads popped under the table. "Wicked letter!"
Harry peeked up to look at Fred and George's grinning faces.
"You're godfather's absolutely brilliant."
"Sending a Howler to Snape, inspired! You'll go down in history for it!"
"A Howler to a professor." Percy's indignant voice interrupted from above. "What kind of a Gryffindor would do such a thing? He'll be lucky if we don't loose a hundred points and come in dead last for the House Cup!"
Harry paled. He hadn't thought of that. He'd just been dreading ever seeing the Potion Professor ever ever again, but what about his House? What if because he'd written to Sirius they lost all their points?
"Percy, knock it off!" Fred yelled.
The twins praise stopped and a tentative hand touch his shoulder. "Hey, its just a joke Harry. Snape's gone. We'll protect you. No need to hide."
Harry didn't move.
Fred and George shared an unfathomable look and vanished up above the table.
A few minutes later, Ron ducked back under, brow furrowing. "Are you sure you don't want to come out Harry? They're sausages."
Sausages settled it. He had no appetite now. Harry wasn't moving.
This chapter is kind of Marauders heavy now that I look at it. But given the fact that later chapters focus more on Harry and Ron and Hermione it makes sense to see what those two are up to. I worked so hard on the employment application scene and it still feels awkward to me. Ah well.
As for the Howler scene . . . what did you think? I know I labeled this story as action/adventure/humor but I'm not sure I got the humor down.
