Beta Read: Joycelyn Solo
Chapter Nineteen: A Hard Start
Looking back, Connor would not know how he had managed to cope with his first days at Hogwarts. All the first month was a difficult time of adjustment – but the first two weeks were simply a nightmare.
The first night at Hogwarts should have given him a clue of the hell he was going to be put through. Almost from the very beginning things proved to be difficult.
At first, though, everything seemed to be going just fine. Connor hadn't quite recovered from the shock of sitting with the Gryffindors, of course, and he didn't dare to look at the Slytherin table, where he knew Miles and Caleb would be staring at him in astonishment, and least of all did he dare to glance at the staff table. He didn't feel ready to face Severus' disappointment, not yet.
He got distracted by his fellow classmates, who were introducing themselves in turns. There was an unusual number of new Gryffindors that year: seven boys and five girls. Connor was also a little surprised by the lack of Muggle-borns in his class: there was only a dreamy-looking boy called Matthew Brennan, and there was a half-blood girl called Enya Pelzer, but that was it. The rest came from more or less pure-blooded families. Not that Connor had any trouble with it, as he was far more used to this kind of family, but he'd thought that at Hogwarts he'd find more people like him. He shrugged. It wasn't such a big deal.
Vicky was sitting opposite him, chattering and giggling excitedly with a couple of girls, while a timid-looking girl seemed to be barely tolerating the ramble the last one of the girls was giving her. Janus Rutherford, on the other hand, had sat as far from Connor as possible. He wouldn't have minded at all if it hadn't been for the way Janus kept whispering to the two boys closer to him and throwing him glances, while one of the children was introducing himself. He wasn't the only one annoyed by this, though.
'Wish he'd stopped ranting under his breath while other people talk,' someone hissed next to him. Connor turned and saw a plump boy with a frown on his face.
'Well, I met him on the train and I wouldn't say he cares much for other people's point of view.'
The boy next to him smiled wryly and held out his hand.
'I'm Benny Dunstar.'
'I'm Connor... Angel.' If Benny thought there was anything weird with his surname, he had the delicacy not to say anything as Connor shook his hand. He felt relieved: during his whole school career so far, most of his classmates had found his uncommon surname incredibly funny and had therefore teased him unmercifully. He wasn't eager to repeat the experience.
They began chatting excitedly, and soon Connor found out they both had a soft spot for Martin Miggs comics, that Benny supported the Ballycastle Bats, that his family came from Belfast, that he was an only son, etc., and Connor told him a bit about himself as well, although it was a little hard as Benny liked talking about himself a lot.
After a while, though, the conversation of the other first-years caught their attention: they had begun to talk about the upcoming classes, and exchanging opinions on what they thought the teachers would be like. With a feeling of foreboding, Connor saw Janus sneering as he said:
'From us, the only one who has the inside scoop is Connor Angel,' Connor gritted his teeth at the emphasis on his surname, 'over there.' Everyone turned to look at him, puzzled. Janus, seeing he'd caught everyone's attention, added:
'Oh, yeah, didn't you know? He's got Snape, the Potions teacher, as a surrogate dad. I bet all the teachers know you by now, huh?'
Matthew Brennan looked up and said innocently 'Well, that must be great for you, isn't it?'
Connor glared at him. 'I'd hardly say so. When they take points, my name'll be the first that'll come to their minds, as it's the only one they know'.
There were some sympathetic chuckles at this, but Janus would not give up that easily.
'Well, it's just odd that you're here, you know. Snape's Head of Slytherin, and Slytherin's got a reputation...'
'So what?' snapped Vicky. Her brow was furrowed and she was glaring at Janus. 'Connor's in Gryffindor.'
'Yeah, well, but...'
'But what, Janus?'
The boy flinched at Connor's low, deadly tone, but tried his best to look cool... failing miserably. Connor, on the other hand, had his hands clenched in fists under the table, and his nails dug in the palm of his hands. He realised all the others were giving him dubious looks, including Benny. Great. Janus had already started turning them against him.
'You know, I'm looking forward to starting flying lessons.' Everyone started and turned to face Geoffrey Hooper. 'Although I've heard the school brooms are a nightmare.' He frowned. 'They vibrate if you go too high, and they always fly to the left.'
The tension was eased at once, although Connor and Janus kept shooting each other murderous looks. However, the rest of their classmates seemed to have forgotten about them.
'Yeah, my cousin Mehitabel says that once a broom dropped her...'
Connor was glad when the feast came to an end. Many of his classmates kept giving him wary looks, and it was starting to freak him out. Okay, so Slytherin didn't have a great reputation, even Connor knew that, and it was true that Severus always favoured his own House, but that wasn't Connor's fault! Why were they all looking at him as though he were some kind of freak, then?
Once they reached the dormitory, it became obvious that their classmates' prejudice wasn't a product of his imagination: it was clear enough that everyone was trying to get the bed that was the furthest from his. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Matthew took at once the bed at his left, and after a moment's hesitation, Benny took the one at his right. As for Geoffrey, it was impossible to tell whether he was trying to avoid him or not, as he was the last to reach the dorm and was forced to take the bed that was the closest to the door, which no one had wanted.
As he got into the four-posted bed, Connor doubted he'd be able to sleep well. This place was too different from the simplicity he was used to, both at his home and at his mum's place. He felt a pang of homesickness. It would be a long time before he saw his mum or Spike again. And Severus... Severus was probably mad at him, because he'd gone to Gryffindor instead of Slytherin...
Before he knew it, he'd fallen asleep.
The following morning was even worse, and to Connor's dismay the disgusting stuff started way too early.
He was the first of his class to get to the Great Hall, as he'd gotten up earlier and he knew by heart the way to the dining room. Before he could get inside, though, he felt a tight grip on his arm.
He turned around, reddening, but it was just Miles. Connor relaxed, although Miles didn't look particularly cheerful. Actually, he looked quite annoyed, and Connor suspected he knew the reason.
'What the hell have you done?'
Connor released his arm. 'Look, if you're mad 'cause the Hat sorted me into Gryffindor...'
'You mean, because you've just ruined the rest of your life here?' Miles snapped. Connor looked at him, bewildered. Wasn't that a little melodramatic? 'Things could have been so easy for you but no, you had to complicate everything!'
Connor was starting to get as annoyed as Miles. 'Perhaps I didn't want things to be easy, but to be placed where I belong.'
'So you belong with that bunch of pig-headed blokes that believe themselves to be better than everybody else? That believe themselves to be the bloody school champions, always bragging about their 'bravery' and their nobility?' Miles snorted, showing what he thought about those fallacious concepts. 'Don't fool yourself, Connor. They'll make your life a living hell. They are bound to pick on you. They think they're so great and so much better than us Slytherins, but they're just a bunch of hypocrites.'
In spite of himself, Connor was impressed. He would have never guessed Miles possessed such a rich vocabulary. He wasn't exactly the intellectual type.
'And don't count on me, or on any other Slytherin. We can't fraternize with the enemy.'
Connor's eyes were as round as saucers. The enemy? What on earth did Miles mean by that?
'Are you mad? It's just a school competition!'
Miles shook his head, sneering. 'It's much, much more than that. You'll see it yourself. There are two sides, and you've just picked up the wrong one.'
And before Connor could open his mouth, he'd strode into the Hall.
Fuming, Connor followed him and sank into a chair at the Gryffindor table. As he wasn't in the mood to wait for his dormmates, he started eating. He grabbed a steaming cup of tea and took it to his lips... and in that moment, the tea vanished, and he felt a stingy pain on his nose as the cup seemed to have bitten him. He yelped and jumped from his seat, nearly dropping all the contents of his plate on his lap. There was a moment of frantic desperation as he tried unsuccessfully to get the damned cup from his nose. At last, the cup released his nose and fell to the ground with a clatter.
Blushing, Connor's gaze scanned the almost empty table... and he noticed at once the trio howling in laughter just a few seats away from him. Gritting his teeth, Connor kneeled and picked up the Nose-Bitter Teacup. When he rose to his feet there was a calm expression on his face, and he kept it in place as he headed towards the laughing boys.
They were barely older than Connor – probably second-years. Two of them were exactly alike, with the same red hair and freckle-covered faces – twins. The other one was a black boy with dreadlocks.
Forcing a smile, Connor handed the cup to the closest red-haired boy, who tried to suppress his laughter.
'Zonko's, right?'
The boy nodded, hiccuping. 'Yeah... thanks. Those aren't cheap.' He took the cup gently and pocketed it. Then, a little more seriously – which couldn't be easy to manage, as his twin and friend were still chuckling behind him – he added: 'It was nothing personal. Our brother Charlie gave it to us yesterday, and we wanted to try it on someone.'
'It's all right,' Connor said flatly. He was already turning to get back to his seat, when the black boy, who'd been staring at him intently, called:
'Hey! I know who you are. Aren't you Snape's foster child?'
Oh, this is just awesome, the whole bloody school already knows...
'Really,' the other twin inquired. 'I can't imagine Snape with a child. I mean, doesn't he get into a coffin with his homeland earth every night?'
'Fred!' his brother exclaimed, horrified. Connor kept a straight face.
'No. But we got a tank filled with formol in the kitchen, where he sleeps every night. That's how he preserves himself, see: he's over two hundred years old.'
The three of them stared at him for a moment, astonished... and then the twin called Fred laughed.
'Well, that'd explain a lot. Anyway... good luck. You're going to need it.'
Connor frowned. 'What do you mean?'
The three boys exchanged knowing glances.
'Wait for your first Potions class, and you'll see...'
So far, Connor's morning was just great.
A huge, square building was in front of him. The walls were made of grey, cold concrete, in urgent need of a new layer of paint. The windows were small and far between, so inside it would be cold and obscure. He noted that some of the windows were broken, and that all of them had bars on them, and he also saw that a barbed-wire fence enclosed the outer yard. There were bits of broken bottles and sweets wrappers on the floor of the yard, and nothing else; and now that he looked closer he noticed there was graffiti on the walls. In all, he thought the building resembled more a penitentiary than a primary school. His new primary school, to be more precise.
Harry shot an uncertain glance at his godfather, who tried to look reassuring.
'C'mon, Harry. I bet it's not so bad inside. There'll be loads of children there.'
Harry remained silent. He didn't want to tell Sirius that was one of his biggest fears. In the last couple of schools he'd attended to, he hadn't gotten along very well with his classmates. Actually, it had gone pretty badly for him.
He saw Sirius shooting a quick glance to his watch, and remembered this was his first day at work. He suddenly felt guilty, he didn't want Sirius to be late on his first day because of him.
'Well, bye then, Sirius. See you later.'
Sirius smiled nervously. 'Bye, Harry. Good luck.'
Harry nodded, forcing a smile, and waved a hand at his godfather. He watched him walk away with a heavy heart, and turned to face his new school. He had a feeling he would need all the good luck he could get.
He walked towards the entrance steps, and to his shock he saw a small group of boys smoking there. Harry frowned. Those kids couldn't be much older than himself.
One of them, a huge, square-shouldered boy who was thrice Harry's size, noticed him staring and spit on the floor right in front of Harry's left foot.
'What're ya lookin' at, midget?' His voice was low and menacing, and it suited his mean face perfectly.
'Nothing,' Harry mumbled. 'I'm new here.'
The boy sneered and mimicked him in a baby tone: 'Nothing. I'm new here. Are you a poofter or what?'
'Let him be, Curly. Konnerig's already mad at you.'
The boy named Curly (could that really be his name?) snorted. 'I'll never get that old bitch off my back, will I?' He turned to glare at Harry. 'Get lost.'
As you wish, Your Highness. Harry suppressed a snort and hastened to get inside the building.
In spite of what Sirius'd said, the school didn't look much better on the inside. The paint was almost completely gone, the floor was ramshakled and there were damp stains on the ceiling. There was a funny smell too, which filled Harry's nostrils and made him sneeze.
He saw several children along the hallway, all talking in small groups. Many of them stopped talking for a moment when he walked past them and eyed him, to start talking again once he'd gone by. Harry needed to ask where his class was, but he was uncertain to approach any of the groups. They all seemed oddly hostile to him, as though they didn't like the clothes he was wearing or something. Perhaps it was his imagination, but...
Finally, he decided to approach a girl that was sitting by herself on the stairs. She was chewing some gum and flipped the pages of a teen magazine.
'Hey,' Harry said. The girl looked up and frowned.
'What do you want?' she snarled. Harry started, but recovered at once, and asked her where his class was.
The girl was still frowning, as she seemed convinced that Harry had some dark motive to approach her. Then, when she couldn't find anything suspicious about Harry, she dignified him with an answer.
'It's down that corridor, the last door on the left.' Her gaze returned to her magazine.
'Oh. Thanks.' Harry turned to leave, then hesitated. 'Um, I'm new here...'
'I noticed,' she replied, her eyes still glued to the colourful pages.
'Yeah, I know... Anyway, my name's Harry.'
She looked up and shot him an indifferent glance. 'Interesting.' She kept reading her magazine, ignoring Harry completely. Well, so much for polite small talk.
The bell rang, and the students began to head towards their respective classrooms. Harry, ignoring the rude girl, did the same and walked down the corridor, along with a bunch of children his age who chattered excitedly among themselves. He reached the class and picked one of the seats at the end of the room and sat down. He hadn't started pulling out his stuff from his bag when he heard a cold, familiar voice behind him:
'Hey, what are you doing there? That's my seat.'
Harry looked up and saw a skinny, brown-haired boy whose head was a little too big for his body. It took him a moment to recognize him: it had been the one who had told Curly off.
'I didn't know it was marked.'
The boy sneered. 'It doesn't have to be. It's mine.'
A tall, gangly boy with a harelip sniggered. Both of them towered over Harry.
Harry didn't want to get in trouble on his first day, so he rose from the seat, took his stuff and moved towards the closest seat – but the big-headed boy snarled:
'That seat's taken, too.'
Glaring at him, Harry finally took at seat next to the window, as far from the two boys as possible. He watched the other children dully as they fiddled with their bags and chattered. None of them seemed to have acknowledged his persona.
Suddenly, the whole class fell silent, and Harry could see why: a short, stern-looking woman had entered. She had dirty blonde hair, which looked really unkempt, clear grey eyes and a tweed jacket. Harry found that she reminded him of somebody else, and soon it struck him: her jacket was exactly alike the one his Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, used to wear. It wasn't a nice memory.
She eyed the class closely, and her gaze stopped a moment on Harry, then kept sweeping the students' faces.
'Well, we see each other again. In case you've forgotten, I'm Mrs. Konnerig, and I don't tolerate fooling around in my class. This is the last year you'll attend this school: next year you will go to secondary school, and you need to be prepared for that new stage in your lives... so yes, ladies and gentlemen, that means we are going to work harder than ever.' There were several groans heard at those words. 'So there's no time to waste. We won't start this year by 'My Holidays' composition, which I'm sure will be a disappointment to you all – instead, we're starting with division and multiplication.'
She turned and began to look for something in her bag, when a cracking noise was heard. Harry looked up and saw the door had opened again, to show the enormous form of no one else than Curly himself. Mrs. Konnerig shot him a dirty look, which didn't erase the smugness of his face.
'Carlson. Late, as usual. What are you doing there? Sit down already.'
Curly – also known as Carlson – headed towards the back of the class, and sat on the seat Harry had been told was taken. Curly said something under his breath to the two boys who'd kicked Harry out from his seat, and they sniggered. Mrs. Konnerig rolled her eyes.
'Well, now we are all here –' she shot another glare at Curly and his friends '– I'll start taking the register.'
She did so, and stopped when she said Harry's name.
'We have a new student with us this year – Harry Potter, stand up. Tell us something about yourself.'
When he rose from his seat, a loud raspberry sound was heard. Mrs. Konnerig glared, not at Curly, but at the big-headed boy. 'Alan Greenburg – be quiet.'
Fortunately, Harry was used to doing this sort of thing, as he moved a lot and in each new school he was asked to speak about himself. That didn't mean it didn't make him feel nervous, and he stammered a few times. When he said he lived with his godfather, the inevitable question was heard:
'Where are your parents?'
Harry looked at the girl with long, black plaits that had spoken. 'Died.'
There was a 'ooooohhh', and a snort from Alan Greenburg. Harry hated this. It was so annoying the way people looked at him with sympathy because of his parents' death. Sure, he was sad about it, but he didn't like to be pitied.
The rest of the lesson didn't go very well. He did a simple equation wrong and Alan and his friends sniggered and he got a frown from Mrs. Konnerig. Then, they had to team up for a project and he was left alone, so the teacher had to force a group of children to accept him; and to cap all matters he found that he was far behind the rest of the class, so Mrs. Konnerig told him that, if he didn't improve soon, he'd have to take extra lessons.
At lunchtime, Harry found himself sitting alone at the cafeteria. No one had been willing to share a table with the boy who seemed to have attracted Curly's (his real name was Francis Carlson) and his friends, Alan and Mark (known as Marko) Schwan, attention. Evidently, the three of them were feared throughout the school, much like his cousin Dudley had been.
He was eating a tuna sandwich that Sirius had prepared for him that morning when he felt a tight grip on his shoulder. Swallowing the bit of tuna in his throat, he turned around and found himself face to face with his three new 'friends': Curly, Alan and Marko had all smug looks on their faces.
'Look who's here: Lil' Mr. "I'm new here".'
'Ooohhh, did your foster daddy make you that sandwich? 'Cause y'know, I'm feeling pretty hungry right now...'
Alan tried to snatch the sandwich from Harry's hands, but he put it away. Alan frowned.
'Who the hell do you think you are, four-eyed midget? Learn a new rule: we want something, we get it.'
Harry, trying to ignore the way Curly was rubbing his massive knuckles, shrugged.
'Well, you won't get my sandwich.' It was a lame comeback remark, but the boys reacted as if they'd been highly insulted.
'You, lil' pigeon...'
Curly seized Harry by his shoulders and raised him. The whole cafeteria had suddenly fallen silent – they were all absorbed at Harry's struggle to break free from the bigger boy's grip, as Marko and Alan laughed out loud.
'Look at him, how pathetic...'
Harry kicked Curly's groin, who let out a cry of pain and dropped him to the floor. His friends stopped laughing at once.
Marko towered over Harry. 'I'm gonna smash your face...' It was the first time Harry heard him speak, and it wasn't exactly what he would have liked to hear. His gaze began to search for an adult, and let out a relieved sigh when he saw a teacher entering the cafeteria. Alan seemed to have noted it too, because he put a hand on Marko's arm.
'It's not worth it, mate.'
He smirked at Harry and took his glass. 'Ooops,' he said, and he poured its contents on Harry's head. 'Sorry. Now your hair looks even worse.'
Laughing, he and Marko helped Curly to stand up and marched away. Harry was fuming. He jumped to his feet and tried to dry himself with some tissues – but his hair was now all sticky and smelly. Sighing, he strode out of the cafeteria, the other children's laughter ringing in his ears, and spent the rest of the lunchtime trying to clean himself up in the boys' bathroom.
When Sirius came to pick him up, he asked how his first day had gone. Harry opened his mouth to start complaining – when he noted that the hands grabbing the wheel were white, and that there was an unfamiliar edge to Sirius' voice. The smile on his face looked rather forced, too, and in spite of it he could see that the look in Sirius eyes was glum. Seems like I'm not the only one who's had a tough day.
'Oh... Fine, I guess.'
Connor's life at Hogwarts hadn't improved by the end of the week. With the clear exception of his mother's and Spike's letters, which were encouraging and funny, even his mail was glum. At his second day at school he received a letter from Mr. Banerji, telling him in a stern tone (Connor could picture his old teacher's face as he wrote the letter just by reading it) that he was the first one in five years who failed the test with a 65 of probability. Much to his own surprise (and dismay), Mr. Malfoy sent him a letter, that said he considered "it just a pity to see such a potential wasted". Anyone would have said that Connor's school career was over, as though he'd been expelled and not been sent to Gryffindor.
But probably the letter that discouraged him the most was the one Theo Nott sent him. At first, Connor had been surprised when he'd seen the thick roll of parchment attached to his friend's owl. Theo would never become famous for his long letters. Connor still remembered the time he'd gone two months on vacation, and all Draco and he had gotten were exactly two lines, addressed to both of them. Connor unfolded the piece of parchment, and soon it became painfully evident why Theo'd used so much parchment.
A
R
E
Y
O
U
O
U
T
O
F
Y
O
U
R
M
I
N
D
Certainly Theo didn't agree with his decision of going to Gryffindor. It wasn't like it surprised him at all, but it wouldn't have hurt him showing a little more moral support.
The letters, though, were the last of his problems. The first morning at Hogwarts, he'd thought Miles was delusional, but after a few days he began to realise there was too much true in what he'd said to ignore. Gryffindor and Slytherin hated each other with passion, and there were no friendships between members of both houses. As a matter of fact, although not all, but many of the children whom he knew from Slytherin – including Caleb Wiggum – weren't talking to him anymore.
It wouldn't have been so bad if he had had someone else to talk to. Eddie was too engrossed with his new friends from Ravenclaw and the same could be said about those who'd gone to Hufflepuff. In Gryffindor, things were a little more complicated.
Janus Rutherford might have lacked many virtues, but he was born a leader. Well, sort of. At least the two boys from the first night, Ferris Federer and Humphrey Kane, followed him around like lap dogs and laughed at everything he said or did. It was utterly annoying.
Anyway, as Janus Rutherford didn't like Connor Angel, neither did Ferris and Humphrey. So they weren't particularly talkative to him. On the other hand, the Muggle-born boy seemed nice, but Connor didn't know him at all, and Geoffrey Hooper, although he wasn't such a jerk like Janus and his friends, had never been close to him. Benny Dunstar was the one he talked to the most, as he disliked Janus almost as much as Connor did, but it was difficult getting along with him, as he had quite a temper and got offended easily. He hadn't spoken to Connor during a whole morning just because he'd said the Ballycastle's Seeker stunk. Geez, how touchy.
Vicky didn't like Janus either, unlike the rest of the girls in her dorm as far as he knew. However, they weren't talking much these days because, just like Eddie, she was too absorbed by her new friends, all girls, all addicted to giggling. Connor couldn't see what Vicky liked about them. The only Gryffindor girl with whom he could keep an interesting conversation was Katie Bell, who liked Quidditch as much as any boy. The rest of them seemed terribly stupid to Connor, and the rest of the boys thought the same. Well, except for Janus, who seemed to like feminine attention. What a ponce.
In short, Connor's first days at Hogwarts were very lonely. And that wasn't all. Not only Janus and company seemed to dislike him, but some of the older students glared at Connor as he passed by, and sometimes he could hear them whispering to each other:
'There goes Snape's brat... What's he doing in Gryffindor, anyway?'
Secretly, Connor had begun to wonder the same.
Of course all the teachers he'd met were now acting as though they'd never seen him before, even McGonagall, but that didn't surprise him. After all, he wouldn't have liked to be treated differently.
But Severus was another story. He didn't even look at Connor anymore. The boy was starting to think that he was terribly mad at him for not going to Slytherin, and so he was giving him the cold treatment. This made Connor to feel even more miserably. And he'd been so happy to go to Hogwarts...
On that Friday, Connor had his very first Potions lesson, which was also the first time he'd see Severus face to face since they'd arrived to Hogwarts. And, as it couldn't have been otherwise, things went downhill right from the beginning...
Connor ran down the hallway, panting. He was late for Potions, all because of that stupid book he hadn't been able to find, and Severus always got so mad with those that arrived late...
When he reached the door, he let out a relieved sigh. Severus wasn't there yet. However, the students had already settled down: Janus with Ferris; Humphrey and Geoffrey; Matthew and Benny, and also the girls had sat in pairs, as Enya Pelzer, the fifth one, was at the hospital wing due to a broken wrist (she'd learnt the hard way that the castle's stairs tended to move). So, by the time Connor arrived, there wasn't a Gryffindor he could sit down with. He noticed Janus smug grin.
He also noticed an empty seat next to a tall, dark-haired Slytherin boy. Connor hesitated a moment. He was already considered a traitor to his House for speaking to Slytherins, as Janus had pointed out several times. If he sat with one of them, his school career would be doomed forever.
So what?, a tiny voice said inside his head. Why would I stop doing something just because other people say so, when I know there's nothing wrong about it? Why would I turn into something I'm not just so they like me? Wouldn't that turn me into a hypocrite?
Throwing caution to the winds, Connor headed towards the Slytherin boy confidently, under his fellow Gryffindor's stunned looks.
'Hey, is this seat taken?'
The Slytherin looked up from the magazine he'd been reading and frowned as he eyed Connor's red and yellow tie and the Gryffindor blazon on his chest. Connor noticed the boy looked like he'd spent an hour in front of the mirror to make his hair look perfect, and that he got really white teeth. Suddenly, there was a look of dawning comprehension on the Slytherin's face.
'Oh, wait... You are Connor Angel.'
Connor would have liked to let out an exasperated snort. Did he have a stigma on his forehead or what?
'Yep, that's me.'
'Oh,' the boy said. Then he smiled, with the slightest hint of self-consciousness. 'Well, I guess you can sit with me. No other Slytherin wanted to do so.'
'Why not?' Connor asked as he sat down. The boy shrugged.
'I guess because I know I'm going to be a nightmare in Potions, and nobody wants to be close to me as I blow up my first cauldron.'
He said this in such a matter-of-fact tone that Connor had a hard time trying not to laugh.
'Well, then it's your lucky day, 'cause I'm not bad at this.'
The boy beamed, putting his magazine away, and said brightly:
'Then you're my savior. Hey, my name's Alden Higgs.' He held out his hand to shake Connor's. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor could see the horrified expression on Janus' face. Geez, he was acting as if Connor had sat with a leprous person or something worse. What the hell... He shook Alden's hand. After all, he seemed nice... And why did everyone act like all Slytherins had an infectious disease or something? Ok, they could not be nice at all – Miles Bletchley or the soon-to-be Slytherin Draco Malfoy came to his mind – but they weren't monsters, for heaven's sake. Why was everyone so stupid?
'So, you have an idea of how to do this, right? 'Cause I've heard Professor Snape's lessons are so difficult and all...' The frown on Alden's face eased. 'Of course, he always treats Slytherins better, doesn't he? I mean, he won't be so hard on me as he's bound to be with any Gryffindor, right?'
Right you are. Connor didn't fool himself: Severus wanted his House to win the Cup and he never hesitated to favour Slytherin above all houses. He never treated students that belonged to the other three houses very well ... and Connor would be no exception. Well, you didn't want to be treated differently, did you?
'I wouldn't worry that much if I were you, he always goes easy on Slytherins. By the way, don't you have an older brother or something?'
Alden nodded. 'Yep. Terence's in fifth year. He's a member of the Quidditch team, see.' Alden bit his lower bit. 'He's always mocking me 'cause I don't play Quidditch that well... He says I'm a sissy 'cause I worry if my hair gets ruined. But do you know how hard is to make a hair like mine straight?'
Connor was at a sudden loss of words. Fortunately, Alden noticed nothing, as Severus chose that very moment to make his entrance. It was a rather dramatic one, with his black robes swirling behind him, and all the students fell silent at once and watched him apprehensively. Severus reached his desk and turned to face them, and many children suppressed a wince at his piercing glare, and probably they all gulped. Severus Snape had the rare gift of making people feel guilty before doing anything.
He began taking the register, fixing his black eyes on each one of the children as he read their names outloud. Many of them paled when they were addressed, even the Slytherins, as if they were expecting the hammer to fall over their heads. And then it got worse with Severus' little speech.
Every year, Severus gave the first-years a short, sharp speech. It didn't change much over the years, and it didn't need to, as it always had the same effect: to shake his younger students just enough so they'd learn from day one that there was no fooling around in his class.
This year wasn't different. Certainly by the end of the speech all pupils, both Gryffindors and Slytherins, were holding their breaths and looked apprehensive. Connor naturally didn't feel the same way, as he'd already heard the speech a couple of times, but did his best to keep his face unfathomable. He wasn't going to laugh – although Janus' petrified face was a nice sight.
And then the class began. They were set to prepare a simple potion to cure boils, the same one Severus taught every year in his first class. Although it wasn't so simple, not for a regular first-year as it could be a little tricky, but if you paid attention you would do all right. The problem was that it was a little hard to pay attention with Professor Snape's breath on your neck, constantly pointing out what you were doing wrong.
Soon it became obvious that Slytherins were his favourites. When he walked past a cauldron where two Slytherins were working, he stopped to help them or to praise what they were doing right. However, when he walked past Gryffindors, he made snide remarks and criticized sharply. His sarcastic comments stung like smacks, and soon all Gryfindors were jumpy and kept throwing paranoid glances over their shoulders. Janus was having a particularly hard time at potion-making, which would have delighted Connor if it hadn't been because he wasn't doing any better.
Years later, Connor would laugh while remembering his first Potions class, the way people laugh about past humiliations long ago forgotten and forgiven. However, at the given time Connor couldn't have wished to laugh any less.
As he'd been preparing potions under Severus' supervision since he was six or seven, he found the potion in question rather easy to prepare, and it was a lucky thing, because Alden had no idea of what he was doing, and he certainly had a hard time trying to focus his attention on something he couldn't have cared less for. So Connor naïvely thought, more or less, that Potions lesson would be a piece of cake. Of course, he'd forgotten about Severus.
If any other Gryffindor got a snide remark, surely Connor would get three. If any Gryffindor who was sitting nearby made a mistake, then it was surely Connor's fault for not warning them. Instead, if Connor tried to give another student some tips, or if he tried to explain something about potion-making to Alden (who was completely ignored by Severus, much to the boy's relief), he was sharply reminded that Professor Snape was the teacher and not him, and that he'd better stop showing off.
'Mr. Angel, we are delighted to see you have a vast knowledge of Potions, but I would appreciate if you minded your own work and stopped giving Dunstar indications. If he is too dim to make his own potion it's his problem, and you should probably stop showing off as well.'
Or:
'Mr. Angel, it looks like you haven't learnt to use a knife properly, those roots are all of different sizes. If you keep on like this, you'll chop off your own fingers.'
Or:
'Mr. Angel, aren't you able to keep your mouth shut during lessons? I'll have to take a point from Gryffindor for that.'
Connor opened his mouth to protest at Severus' unfairness: Alden had been talking, not him. Severus raised an eyebrow, a sneer forming on his face:
'Do you want to say something, Mr. Angel?'
Connor gritted his teeth. 'No, sir.'
It was driving Connor nuts. Severus just wouldn't leave him alone, no matter the disaster some of the other students were making with their potions. Just everything Connor did or stopped doing was wrong, and Severus had no problem in showing this to the rest of the class. Although the best way to say it would be that he seemed to have no problem with humiliating him in front of the entire class. Much to his own disgust, Connor was reminded of Severus' father last – and only – visit, two years ago. He'd felt exactly the same way: like he couldn't do anything more or less right.
But the last straw was at the end of the lesson. Severus was lecturing Connor, in a carrying voice so everyone would hear, on his lack of concentration and how that could mean a disaster while potion-making. Connor was fed up. He was perfectly able to concentrate, but Severus would not let him! He was so angry at the whole situation that his hands were clenched in fists under his desk, and finally his temper got the better of him.
'I'm sure I would be able to focus on the task at hand if I weren't constantly distracted, sir.'
There was a tense silence, as everyone understood at once the hidden meaning in Connor's words. They all held their breaths as they watched the glaring contest between teacher and student, and waited for Snape's reaction.
'Do you have any complaints about the way I teach, Mr. Angel? Because I am afraid that in this case your point of view is irrelevant.' He bent to inspect Connor's potion, and sneered. 'This is completely wrong. Its colour isn't bright enough, it shouldn't look this opaque. I'm afraid you'll have to make this again.'
'But...'
Connor's potion was one of the few that were of the right shade of colour, whereas there were other that were completely wrong. Ok, it was a little opaque, but it wasn't such a serious mistake...
'Evanesco.' With a flick of Severus wand, Connor's potion vanished. All the work he'd done during the whole class had just been vanished in a second. He couldn't believe it. But that wasn't all...
'As I have said, you will have to prepare it again... in detention.' There was a collective gasp at this words. Connor couldn't believe it. Had Severus really just given him a detention just because his potion wasn't perfect? In his first week at school? 'Seven o'clock, in my office. Now put your things away. Class dismissed,' he added as the bell rang.
Connor was fuming, too furious to utter a word. He got his things inside his bag at once and strode through the door, ignoring Alden's hesitant "bye", ignoring Vicky's concerned look, ignoring the sympathy in the other Gryffindors' eyes and the sniggering from a group of Slytherins and, of course, not looking at all at Janus and his group. He strode down the hallway, eager to get away from the dungeons, and practically ran his way upstairs. He walked past the path that led to Gryffindor Tower and the double doors that led to the Great Hall, as he wasn't in the mood to see anybody. He needed some fresh air, so he got outside the castle and sat on the entrance stairs.
He had to inhale several deep breaths in order to calm himself down, as he rubbed the palm of his hands where his nails had left marks. Merlin, he was so angry. He'd known that Severus wasn't going to give him special treatment, and Connor hadn't wanted it anyway, but that didn't mean Severus had to treat him much worse than everybody else. For Merlin's beard, he'd given Connor detention on his first Potions class, all because his potion wasn't one hundred percent perfect...
Well, if he was honest to himself, Severus hadn't given him detention just because of the potion, but also for the way Connor'd replied. But what was he supposed to do, after getting all that crap from Severus during the whole class? He was human, too!
That afternoon, his classmates acted very strangely. Janus was unusually quiet and he didn't tease Connor like always, and much to his disgust Connor noticed that many of the children looked at him with pity in their eyes, including Vicky. He even overheard Opal Trent telling Enya Pelzer what had happened during Potions class, and saying how sorry she felt for Connor.
'Imagine, living with an ogre like that! His childhood must have been a nightmare... Imagine a never-ending Potions lesson!'
Even Benny Dunstar seemed to worry over him. He told Connor that Severus detentions were dreadful – as if Connor didn't know it himself – and that he should speak to McGonagall.
Connor appreciated the other children's concern, but it was disturbing. He wasn't an abused child. He'd always been happy with Severus, and Severus hadn't been anything but nice to him... That is, until he got to Hogwarts.
Right after dinner, Connor headed towards Severus office. He'd walked down that corridor many times, usually excited and cheerful as he expected Severus to show him something interesting. This time, though, was completely different. Connor was in an awful mood. It wasn't just because of what had happened in Potions class, but also because of the way Severus had been giving him some sort of cold treatment, and Connor couldn't understand why. He'd done nothing to upset Severus like that. Unless...
Unless Severus was terribly mad at him for going to Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. After all, nearly everyone seemed to think it had been a huge mistake, that there had been something wrong about his sorting: Mr. Banerji, Mr. Malfoy, Theo, Miles; some of his fellow Gryffindors... Why would Severus be any different? After all, it was only natural that he would want his child to go to the same House he'd gone. And he was the Head of that House, nonetheless. But it wasn't Connor's fault: it had been the Sorting Hat's decision, not his.
Liar, you asked not to go to Slytherin...
Connor slowed down his step as he got closer and finally stopped in front of the dark wooden door. He took a deep breath. Here we go... He raised his hand and knocked.
'Come in.'
Connor opened the door, walked in and closed it behind him, careful not to make a sound. Severus was sitting behind his desk, almost buried by a pile of rolls of parchment. There was a frown on his face, and he only looked up when Connor cleared his throat. Severus merely pointed at a nearby table, where a cauldron and all the ingredients were set.
'Start.'
Connor bit his lower lip and nodded. 'Yes, sir.'
During the whole time Connor was busy making the potion, he and Severus didn't exchange a word. The room was completely silent, except for the sound of Connor's knife and the screeching of Severus' quill on the parchment. Every now and then, Severus would let out a snort or an exasperated exclamation ('it had to be one of those Weasleys to be such a dunderhead'). It was almost like it had been back at home, when Severus corrected his students' homework and Connor did his own... but this time there was something different. The atmosphere wasn't the same: it was tense, as if Connor's anger and Severus' cold indifference were intoxicating the air surrounding them.
This time, Connor had no problems preparing the potion as he didn't get interrupted once. He looked proudly at what he'd done. Not even Severus would be able to criticize it now.
'Professor, I've just finished.'
Severus didn't bother to look up from the parchment he was correcting.
'Good. You may go now.'
Connor didn't move from his spot, astounded.
'But, sir, aren't you going to check it?'
Severus shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the parchment.
'What for? I know you can do such a stupid potion by yourself with no problem.'
Connor couldn't believe his ears. Had Severus made him come here for nothing?
'Excuse me, sir, but then why did you make me come here at all?'
This time, Severus looked up.
'Because you had a detention.'
'Yes, sir, I understand that, but why?'
Severus put down his quill and looked at Connor with a stern expression on his face.
'I gave you detention to make clear that there are certain things that I will not tolerate in my class. Students snapping at me is one of them.'
'I didn't snap! Well, maybe a little. But after the way you treated me during the whole class, it's no wonder I lost my temper!'
Severus' eyes narrowed. 'That's exactly what you can't do. In my class, students don't reply to the teacher when he says something. In my class, my orders and only my orders are obeyed at once. In my class, when I speak, you listen. Is that clear?'
Connor gritted his teeth. 'Yes, sir. May I go now?'
Severus looked at him intently. 'No. Sit down.'
'But the detention was over...'
'I told you to sit down.'
Grudgingly, Connor did so and glared at Severus, who seemed annoyingly unaffected by this.
'That's exactly what I was talking about. You can't talk back to a teacher like that, and you especially can't do that to me. I don't tolerate it from anyone and least of all from you, not during lessons. Understood?'
'Yes, sir.'
Severus kept staring at him, as if he were trying to look through Connor. It was beginning to give him the creeps, but he didn't move a muscle and didn't break eye-contact. Finally Severus broke the silence.
'What's your problem, Connor?'
Connor blinked, astonished. 'You ask me what's my problem? Shouldn't I be asking you that, after the way you treated me?'
'That's the standard way I treat my students, Connor. I thought you would know it by now.'
'No, that's not the standard way you treat your students, not even Gryffindors. You barely left me alone, nothing I did was right, you always picked me to mock in front of the entire class, I was the only one who had to do the potion again...' Connor blurted out, and despite this was exactly what Severus had told him not to do, he went on: 'I think you're the one who has a problem, a problem with me. What did I do wrong? Why are you so mad with me?'
'Connor, I'm not mad at you...'
'Well, you got a funny way of showing it.'
They stared at each other for a moment, Severus' eyes expressionless; Connor's burning from rage.
'It's because I didn't go to Slytherin, isn't it? That's why you're mad at me.'
Severus blinked, confused. 'What are you talking about, Connor?'
Connor wanted to state his reasons slowly and clearly, in a rational way... But, instead, all that came out of his mouth was another rant.
'That I didn't go to Slytherin, like I was supposed to, and I went to Gryffindor instead, and you've always hated Gryffindors, so I've just disappointed you like I've disappointed everybody else...'
Severus head jerked up. 'Who's told you such nonsense?'
Connor deflated. 'Nearly everybody, from Lucius Malfoy to Miles Bletchley, so I thought you were bound to feel disappointed too...'
Severus didn't answer. Instead, he rose from his seat, circled the desk and kneeled in front of Connor, so their eyes would be at the same level.
'Connor, it doesn't matter what other people say. I'm not disappointed with you.'
The boy frowned. 'Aren't you? But, didn't you want me to go to Slytherin...?'
Severus bit his lower lip. 'Well, I have to admit that, like any other parent, I would have felt proud if you'd have followed in my steps. But that doesn't me I'm disappointed because you've gone to Gryffindor.'
'But you don't like Gryffindor...'
Severus' lips curved a little. 'Well, it was about time that something good came out from that House.'
Connor gave him a faint smile that soon faded away. 'Mr. Banerji's test said that I should have gone to Slytherin...'
The man waved a hand. 'Those are only statistics, Connor. The true test is the Sorting Hat. And it put you in Gryffindor, so Gryffindor is the place you belong. And if Gryffindor is your essence, how could I hate it?' He put a hand on Connor's shoulder. 'Never mind what other people say, you're right where you should be.'
'Then... Then you aren't mad at me?'
Severus smiled at him fondly. 'Of course not. Why do you keep saying that?'
Connor frowned. 'Well, perhaps because of the way you treated me in class...'
The man tilted his head to one side and eyed Connor intently.
'I see. Connor, don't you get it? I have to treat you like that. I can't favour any student –' Connor narrowed his eyes and Snape amended: 'Any student that's not from Slytherin, that is. Otherwise I would be accused of showing favouritism... and that'd be much worse for you than for me, can't you see?'
Connor remembered Janus' snide remarks at once and nodded. 'That doesn't mean I'll like it much.'
Severus smiled, a little sadly. 'No, I guess you won't.' He shot a quick glance at his watch. 'So, as it's still early... what about a game of chess?'
Author's Notes: Well, this is certainly a long chapter and I hope you've all enjoyed it. The next, Chapter Twenty,is called 'Bullying'... which I think is a rather telling title so I'll say no more. I'll publish it as soon as my beta finishes correcting it. See you!
Sparky: It's always great to see that new people get interested in the fic, and thanks a lot for all your comments. I felt very proud when you said that you enjoyed this in spite of not liking Connor that much in Atvs. Thank you so much, and keep reading!
I think that I've already answered your question of how Snape and Connor's Slytherin friends were going to react, haven't I?
Jesse: That was unexpected, wasn't it? I mean, for a while, when I had just started with this, not even I knew where Connor would go. My first choice wa Slytherin but then, as the story progressed, I realised that wasn't the place for him. Hopefully, other people, like Snape, will see it too... or not. Poor Connor. Sometimes I'm just too mean to him... and Harry, as well.
Luna Moonlight Fawn: It's certainly going to be interesting having Connor in Gryffindor, don't you think? And yes, I think that the 'true colours' thing could apply to anyone... Thanks for your encouragement and your good wishes, too.