Author's Note: Again, sorry about the time you had to wait for
this. I had most of it written days ago, but I've worked every day for
the past six days, and I still have tomorrow to go before I get a day off.
My own fault, of course, because I took two people's shifts. But still,
with that, I was way too tired to try to post. I've finally got it done,
tho, and I hope you enjoy it.
House Points winners are: Yasei Raiden, and fullsailnate!
Congrats, you two! Keep answering, everybody! Thank you all so much.
House Points stand:
Gryffindor: 195
Slytherin: 200
Hufflepuff: 90
Ravenclaw: 235
'these' are thoughts
**this** is parseltongue
*~*~*~*~*~*~ is a new perspective or scene
Chapter Sixteen: Reactions
Harry lay on the sofa in his father's rooms, feigning sleep. It had been three hours since his vision, but he was told in no uncertain terms that he would not be returning to classes that day. Hermione promised to get his work for him, at which point Ron groaned loudly. He quieted swiftly enough, though, when Severus glared at him. Harry had once commented to Ron and Hermione that his father should patent that look.
Now he lay there, his eyes shut as he went over the last few days in his mind. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Neville Longbottom had cornered Ron and Harry in their dorm room their first night back at the castle and demanded to know why Harry looked like Snape now. After much procrastination, Harry, with some help from Ron, filled his year-mates in on what had been going on in his life. Surprisingly, they didn't seem to mind overly much. But then, they had known Harry for five years already, and knew that he was nothing like his father.
The next morning, the whole of Gryffindor Tower had been informed of Harry's relation to Severus Snape, and not one of them passed judgment on him because of it. This made the next few days much more bearable. While it had been Harry's decision to not announce anything, it was still quite disconcerting to have everyone staring at you. One would think that Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived, would be used to it by now. The gasps as his name was mentioned or his face recognized... the flick of the eyes upwards to see the famous scar. But no, he wasn't. He didn't want it, and he didn't like it. He realized, too late, that keeping the truth from the rest of the student body had only caused more attention to be sent his way. And now, when news of the vision in Defense got around...
Harry groaned. He couldn't bear the thought of it. He covered his face with one hand, absently noting that Sal wasn't around. But someone was. He heard movement to his left, towards the the doorway that was behind him. He knew without looking that his father was watching him now. But he didn't want to talk. Not now. He told them what the vision was about. There was no reason for anyone to be in his private thoughts anymore. Except Voldemort. But even he was leaving the boy alone.
His mind wandered back to the reactions he had received once news of him having a father, alive and well, got around the school. The Hufflepuffs, for the most part, treated Harry the same way they had always done. The Ravenclaws... now that was another matter. Some were disgusted with him, and others seemed to be analyzing the situation. And yet others acted like the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. Normal. Slytherin, of course, had never been nice to Harry. Had never liked him. Now they taunted and teased him for having a 'traitor' father. A man who couldn't keep his loyalties in any one place for very long, and would probably regret his decision for accepting Harry and turn him away. But they didn't matter. It would have been different had he let the Sorting Hat place him there, but he didn't.
He snorted at the thought. If it weren't for Malfoy, and Hagrid telling him that Slytherin turned out more Dark Wizards than the other three houses combined, then he may have just let it. But he didn't, and now he was the son of the rival's Head of House. How bittersweet irony can be.
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Severus raised a brow as he watched his son.
"Would you mind letting me know what's so funny, Mr. Potter?"
Harry's eyes slowly opened and his grinned engagingly at his father.
"Not at all, sir. I was merely thinking how ironic it is that my father is the Head of House of my house's rival, and that, had it not been for circumstances, would have also been my Head of House?"
Severus blinked and tried to work that out. It took him a moment, but when he grasped the idea he stared at Harry in shock.
"Pardon?"
Harry had flipped onto his side and was watching his father's face as it went from confused, to bemused, to outright shocked.
"Haven't you ever wondered why my sorting took so long? The longest sorting in the six years I've been here, I understand."
"I briefly considered the hat tossing you out in your first year, but shrugged it aside. Are you telling me that you could have been one of mine?"
"Yes sir. The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin at first. Told me that I could be great, and Slytherin would help me on my way to greatness. But I just kept telling it 'Anywhere but Slytherin' and it listened. So instead, I went to Gryffindor. I asked Professor Dumbledore about it in my second year, when I pulled Gryffindor's sword from the hat down in the Chamber. I asked him if that made me more like Tom, and he told me it's the choices we make that tell us who we are, or something like that. He told me only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that from the Hat, so I dropped it."
"You pulled Gryffindor's sword from the Hat?" Severus asked, completely floored, now.
Harry gave him a curious look.
"Yes. Didn't I tell you that already?"
"No. You told me that you pulled a sword from the Hat. Not that sword." He began mumbling to himself, and Harry only caught words like "...need to... up in the... book."
Severus was thinking hard about this. This fact could change many things. If Harry could pull Gryffindor's sword out of Gryffindor's Hat, then there was more to the boy than many expected or even understood. He had no doubt in his mind that Albus, the wise old fool, knew exactly what he was doing concealing that particular fact from everyone. It could cause a riot, at least in the Death Eater ranks. Voldemort would step up his attempts on Harry's life, and even Harry Potter probably wouldn't live through it.
That was when he heard Harry muttering to himself. He heard the words "The Prophecy" and instinctively knew that he was referring to the one about he and the Dark Lord. And he knew that when Harry was ready, he would tell him. If he ever was.
Suddenly, Harry's piercing green eyes locked on Severus' own black ones.
"I want to give you something, sir. After... well, after the last incident, I feel that it would be better if there was a way that Hermione, Ron or myself could get in touch with you if anything happened." While he had been speaking, Harry had been rummaging around in the bag on the floor, his schoolbag. He pulled out the fourth book that he had been given by Hermione, the one Severus had been reading when the 'Terrible Trio' were having their discussion.
Severus took the proffered book with a feeling of slight awe. Awe that this boy, this sixteen year old young man, held the capacity to trust, to forgive like this. People with souls like Harry's were very few, and very very far between.
"I will keep it with me always. If you ever have need of me for anything, do not hesitate to use your book to let me know."
Harry nodded and pulled out his wand. With an intricate movement that Hermione had taught him, along with the incantation to add someone to their books, Harry murmured, "Suscipio ab stilus, Severus Snape!".
The book glowed golden, then shifted to a green and silver glow that dimmed until it was gone. When Severus opened the book, he found himself looking at four pairs of initials.
HP ~ HG ~ RW ~ SS
He was now able to be in constant contact with his son. He looked over at Harry again, his face a blank, emotionless mask. He nodded and snapped the book shut, slipping it into one of the many pockets of his robe.
Harry explained the intricacies of the book to his father. How the emblem on the cover would glow if there was a message being written, and how the glow would change if the message had been waiting any amount of time. Also that if you were carrying the book on you, but couldn't see it, that the glow would warm you and alert you to it. How to write and send private messages. Afterwards, Harry slumped back on the sofa, exhausted. Not from talking, but from the vision he had suffered earlier. The chat with Voldemort. His last conscious thought was, 'How am I going to learn to hurt him? I will do it. No matter what. Maybe Father will help. When did I start calling him Father, even in my mind?'
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Draco Malfoy sauntered into the Great Hall, noticing Potter's absence.
'Must have hit his head when he fell.' he thought, smirking at the Gryffindor table. He saw that the Mudblood was reading, again, and the Weasel was writing furiously.
He thought back to what happened in Defense, and even though he hated Potter, he knew without a doubt that his link to the Dark Lord, the scar, was the reason for his 'fit'. The scar that had been bleeding. The rasped word, 'Father' that Potter had said before he lost consciousness.
And he knew that he would never, ever bow to anyone. He wouldn't be like his father. He wouldn't lick the boots of that monster. No. He would take over for Voldemort. He would become Voldemort. He would never bow to him. A Malfoy, after all, was above that. He didn't know what possessed his father to do such a thing, but he could only think that perhaps it was power that turned the elder Malfoy into an ass kisser.
Unlike popular opinion, he did think for himself. He merely did what his cunning and devious mind told him would be in his best interest. At this particular moment, his best interest seemed to coincide with his father's demands. He would become the next Dark Lord, then Potter would be bowing to him. Along with the rest of Voldemort's lackeys.
He heard a rustling coming from the Entrance Hall, and could have sworn that he saw the tail of a large, black snake slither down towards the dungeons. But he shook off the thought as he made his way to the Slytherin table. Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly have been a snake. The didn't just enter Hogwarts for no reason, and without being brought in.
Little did the blond Slytherin know. Nagini has come to Hogwarts.
A/N: So, what do you think? I hope you liked. Review and let
me know, please!
Latin: suscipio - accept. ab - in. stilus - writing.
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