Slytherin Sympathy
by Icarus
"Potter."
A bit of light trickled into the Potions Master's office from high window slits, outlining the harsh angles of his face and sharp nose, in this stone room. Those angles were echoed painfully in the spartan décor of his office, in the teachers' corridor upstairs. It was as neat as a pin, without a single personal item; not a waving photo of family, nor even so much as a spotted cactus could be found. Harry would've thought there'd at least be a Slytherin banner.
Harry stood in the doorway, wondering why he was here. Was Snape was going to spring another Dark Arts test on him? Or maybe - it was too much to hope - tell him the Dark Arts class was to be canceled, forever? It was just like the sadistic Snape to let him stand there long enough work up a cold sweat.
Snape didn't look up from his scrolls, continuing to write as he finally spoke, in casual measured tones.
"Potter. I don't presume to know the details of your sordid private life, nor do I wish to know - " Harry listened cautiously. He agreed with that, his mind recalling Snape's erotic Book of Eros. He certainly knew more about Severus Snape's personal life than he ever wanted. "But a word to the wise. Never, ever, reveal your true feelings. Not unless you know for certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they are returned.
"And if necessary," Snape's black eyes met his briefly, before returning to his paperwork "- Lie."
Harry stood there a moment, unsure what to think.
"You may go, Harry. Unless you wish to become a permanent fixture in my hallway. I could use a new gargoyle or two."
Upstairs in his bedroom that evening, Harry chewed his lip, his mind wandering from the dreadfully dull Arithmancy story problems. Who cared how many Peruvian wizards it took to cast a sleeping spell that would knock out a Spanish Wyvern? Were Spanish Wyverns more powerful than any other ones? There were too many variables. He suspected these details were added just to confuse him. He kept coming back to the same sentence, realizing he had read it three times - without reading it.
He had the book spread across his knees, sitting up in his four poster bed. He wished he had Ron to complain with about this homework. The fire was lit, but most of the torches were out. All the other Gryffindors of his year were downstairs in the common room. Harry could hear whooping laughter, and a cacophony of indistinct voices. He had told them he wanted some quiet, but really, he couldn't stand how Ron was avoiding him. Again. He thought about what Snape had said. It seemed unwise somehow, to take advice from Professor Snape - after all, he was hardly what one would call a 'people person.' But the more Harry thought about it, the more it made sense.
"You know, probably it was just too small a dose to work right," he told Ron in Charms class a day or two later.
"Oh, sure, yeah of course - I figured that," Ron answered, brushing it off. But he looked very relieved. He sat next to Harry at lunch, for the first time in a week.
And who could know? Maybe it was even the truth.
Finis. Next: 'Between Friends.'
"Potter."
A bit of light trickled into the Potions Master's office from high window slits, outlining the harsh angles of his face and sharp nose, in this stone room. Those angles were echoed painfully in the spartan décor of his office, in the teachers' corridor upstairs. It was as neat as a pin, without a single personal item; not a waving photo of family, nor even so much as a spotted cactus could be found. Harry would've thought there'd at least be a Slytherin banner.
Harry stood in the doorway, wondering why he was here. Was Snape was going to spring another Dark Arts test on him? Or maybe - it was too much to hope - tell him the Dark Arts class was to be canceled, forever? It was just like the sadistic Snape to let him stand there long enough work up a cold sweat.
Snape didn't look up from his scrolls, continuing to write as he finally spoke, in casual measured tones.
"Potter. I don't presume to know the details of your sordid private life, nor do I wish to know - " Harry listened cautiously. He agreed with that, his mind recalling Snape's erotic Book of Eros. He certainly knew more about Severus Snape's personal life than he ever wanted. "But a word to the wise. Never, ever, reveal your true feelings. Not unless you know for certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they are returned.
"And if necessary," Snape's black eyes met his briefly, before returning to his paperwork "- Lie."
Harry stood there a moment, unsure what to think.
"You may go, Harry. Unless you wish to become a permanent fixture in my hallway. I could use a new gargoyle or two."
Upstairs in his bedroom that evening, Harry chewed his lip, his mind wandering from the dreadfully dull Arithmancy story problems. Who cared how many Peruvian wizards it took to cast a sleeping spell that would knock out a Spanish Wyvern? Were Spanish Wyverns more powerful than any other ones? There were too many variables. He suspected these details were added just to confuse him. He kept coming back to the same sentence, realizing he had read it three times - without reading it.
He had the book spread across his knees, sitting up in his four poster bed. He wished he had Ron to complain with about this homework. The fire was lit, but most of the torches were out. All the other Gryffindors of his year were downstairs in the common room. Harry could hear whooping laughter, and a cacophony of indistinct voices. He had told them he wanted some quiet, but really, he couldn't stand how Ron was avoiding him. Again. He thought about what Snape had said. It seemed unwise somehow, to take advice from Professor Snape - after all, he was hardly what one would call a 'people person.' But the more Harry thought about it, the more it made sense.
"You know, probably it was just too small a dose to work right," he told Ron in Charms class a day or two later.
"Oh, sure, yeah of course - I figured that," Ron answered, brushing it off. But he looked very relieved. He sat next to Harry at lunch, for the first time in a week.
And who could know? Maybe it was even the truth.
Finis. Next: 'Between Friends.'