AN: special thanks to E, who puts up with my random wizarding questions in the middle of our boring adult jobs.
"You don't have to drop me off at King's Cross," Harry called, clicking shut his trunk. Snape was walking back and forth between the sitting room and the kitchen, collecting books from the bookshelf. He paused outside of Harry's door, holding an encyclopaedia of poisonous plants.
"I can get there myself, and there haven't been any threatening letters after the article," Harry reasoned. He was feeling rather chuffed that it was the day before going back to Hogwarts, and he'd already done all his laundry and packed all his things.
Snape narrowed his eyes and Harry fought the urge to shift his stance, knowing that Snape was reading his face to look for ulterior motives. Harry wouldn't have actually minded Snape being there to take part in the ritualistic drop off of wizarding families on September 1st, but he wasn't sure how well that would go over with the other students. Snape had already said that he was going to continue not mixing family and school life, most especially in the classroom, and Harry was fine with that. He didn't want even more attention for being different.
"I will see you off," Snape finally said, his decision firm, as if he'd seen through Harry's bravado and deduced what Harry really wanted.
Harry smiled.
"All right."
Snape nodded. "I do have a new disguise to try, and I must ensure that you board and stay on the train instead of taking an alternative method."
He smirked at Harry and walked off, missing Harry's indignant look as Harry argued; "We only flew a car there once."
Snape didn't reply to that, which was probably for the best, Harry figured. He'd not been too pleased that Sirius was teaching him how to ride a motorcycle, and Harry didn't want to bring that up again.
…
Harry made his way through the train carriages looking for the one that Ron and Hermione had snagged. He knew at least that Hermione had planned to arrive at the station with plenty of time and hoped she'd been successful to grab one just for them.
"Excuse me," Harry said, pushing past a pair of Hufflepuffs. They glared at him the entire time and barely let him past. Just two more carriages to check for Ron and Hermione, and the hallway was getting crowded quickly.
An arm shot up across his path, blocking him. Harry kept his gaze forward.
"Move, Cormac," said Harry.
"What's the rush, Potter?" Cormac said. "Or... should I say Snape? Funny article I read over the summer."
"Congrats on reading during the break," Harry replied. "Excuse me."
Cormac flexed his arm and kept it still.
"Just think it's a little weird, isn't it, you going to live with a teacher you hate the most? And who certainly isn't a fan of us Gryffindors."
Harry finally looked up and raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.
"What are you playing at, Potter?"
"I think it's interesting that you can't understand why a kid with no parents would end up with a different guardian in the wizarding world. Or why you think you're privy to any information at all on the history of my family."
Harry threw his elbow up slightly to push Cormac away, poking him in the rib. If this was what the train ride was like, he couldn't wait for the welcome feast.
…
Whitechapel buzzed with bikes and black cabs as Snape made his way across from Aldgate East station toward the noodle restaurant. Not his choice of meeting spot, but it was midday and they were both pressed for time. He side-stepped a tourist group on a Jack the Ripper tour and ducked into a tiny doorway.
"Why are you always eating?" Snape asked, slipping into the stool next to Kingsley. He'd removed his disguise from King's Cross, and changed his clothing to something slightly more muggle-like.
"These are dates, didn't you know?" Kingsley said, picking up a pile of noodles with his chopsticks. He barked out laughter at the look of alarm on Snape's face.
"Come on you skinny bastard, who doesn't like food?" Kingsley teased.
"I do not date–" Snape said.
"–people, I know."
Snape sat back with a suspicious look toward his friend, but still took the container of noodles that had been ordered for him.
"More happenings at the Ministry?"
"Yes," Kingsley said, wiping his face with a napkin. "Your kid's little stunt has many people talking."
"It wasn't a stunt," Snape said, frowning as he tried to use the chopsticks. "Quite certain it was planned."
"Of course it was," Kingsley said, sliding over a plastic fork. "I've got no proof at the moment, but the dementors actually enjoy Azkaban and wouldn't leave unless told."
"Certainly more despair there than in Upper Tarrow," Snape said.
Kingsley smiled at that.
"What was the fall-out from that article?"
"Not much," Snape said. "The reporter was surprisingly restrained, given her previous rubbish she's written. We received a few notes of encouragement, some of confusion, and one or two of disbelief. It would seem that most perceive me to be a curmudgeonly stern man, and nothing more."
"So they remember you perfectly well," Kingsley teased. Snape rolled his eyes.
"The real test for Harry will be returning to school. But he has experience being an outcast, and his friends were already aware," Snape said, adding some sauce to his noodles.
"Tough for a kid still."
"Perhaps," Snape said. "Perhaps knowing that I am his guardian now will terrify the little snots into silence."
Kingsley dabbed his mouth again with his napkin, and then picked up his drink, giving Snape a calculating look.
"Guardian, or dad?"
Snape gave a small shrug, but his face flushed slightly and that gave Kingsley his answer.
"What about your friend Kemper?" Snape asked, changing the subject.
"Not my friend," Kingsley said, shaking his head and gesturing with his chopsticks. "But still snooping around, I think. Still hanging about with the Unspeakables."
Snape chewed his food thoughtfully at that. The race was on, it seemed, to see who would be the first to spill that Voldemort had returned. Horns blared outside as a tourist stepped into the street without looking, to take photographs of an old pub.
"You got an important prophecy that just came round?" Kingsley asked. He stared right at Snape and waited.
"Perhaps," Snape said.
After a second, Kingsley nodded and went back to eating his lunch.
"Right well. In case you're curious, the only people who can listen to a prophecy are the ones that told it, the ones that it was told to, and the ones that it's about. And the Master of the Hall of Prophecies."
"As I assumed," Snape said, picking up another bundle of noodles. He hadn't been one hundred percent sure, so it was nice to have the confirmation. "And the Master of the Hall…"
"Is the most stringent rule follower I've ever met," Kingsley said. He took a gulp of water and glanced at Snape.
"Not to say he couldn't be bribed or blackmailed. But there's a reason he holds that title."
"Small favours," Snape muttered. "Anything else of concern?"
Kingsley put his noodles down and stretched his back.
"Your favourite posh twat has been haunting the halls a little more than normal."
Snape's eyebrow raised as he stabbed a piece of beef.
"Who's he been visiting?"
"Oh, you know," Kingsley said. "The Minister. The Minister's secretaries."
"Hmm," Snape said, shifting his leg out of the way as Kingsley reached down between their stools for something.
"And then there's this malarky," he said, pulling a folded up Daily Prophet out of his bag on the floor, tossing it to the table. It unfolded by itself to a small letter in the editorial section.
Something Afoot
Dear Editor,
The skies tell tales. The heat of summer spoke of hidden horrors in our world. All is not as peaceful as it seems. A dementor on the loose is a sign of worse to come.
-X
Snape read it quickly and then took a moment to eat another mouthful and think. It sounded like utter rubbish that one might expect in The Quibbler letters to the editor, and though he catalogued it in his mind he wasn't too worried.
"Nothing that isn't public knowledge," Snape said. "Is this the first of those types of letters?"
"So far," Kingsley said.
Kingsley shifted in his seat and folded his noodle container closed.
"Look, Severus. Clearly something is going on and you're being your secretive self as usual," Kingsley started.
"Do you need more compensation?" Snape asked, somewhat sarcastically.
"Wouldn't say no to a few more dinners," Kingsley shot back. "But no. Just tell me this for now: is this pre-war clean up, or post?"
Snape took a long drink of water from his bottle, looking out the window at the regular scenes of a busy London street at lunch. Kingsley, who'd known him since he was a first year, waited patiently. Finally, Snape reached into his pocket and pulled out a £5 note.
"Have a celebratory drink on me," Snape said. He gave an awkward half smile back as Kingsley's face broke out into a wide grin.
…
This was the real test, Harry knew. He'd been able to sequester himself away on the train in a private carriage with his friends and keep to themselves for most of the trip. They'd had very few interruptions, and Harry was surprised that not even Malfoy had come to pester him.
The Great Hall was full of the entire school though, and Harry got the feeling that people were expecting some sort of interaction between himself and Snape. As such, the staring had already started as they'd walked down to the Great Hall, and Harry nearly tripped as Ron shoved himself toward the door first.
"You always get the attention," Ron said. "My turn first."
Heads did turn as they walked through, but Harry was grinning and watching his friend's ridiculous walk to the table more so than looking about.
"Where have you two been," Hermione muttered, sliding over on the bench to make room for Harry. "The speech is about to begin."
"Is it?" Harry dryly asked. "I never would have known."
Hermione looked like she was about to swat him, but instead just rolled her eyes.
Harry could feel the eyes on him from other students but it wasn't something he was inexperienced with at Hogwarts.
"Good evening," Dumbledore said, his voice carrying out over the hall and shushing the students. "And welcome back to yet another year of learning and magic!"
Harry was mostly watching Dumbledore, but took a glance down the staff table, nodding at Remus Lupin. He then looked toward Snape, who had a stony expression on his face. Next to him sat a toad-like woman wearing all pink, who Harry immediately recognised.
"Ron," Harry whispered. He caught Hermione's eye and nodded toward the front. "That woman in pink was at my hearing."
Dumbledore kept talking about how he hoped people had come back from summer break with refreshed and with open minds toward their studies and fellow students.
"Supporting you?" Hermione whispered, at the same time Ron muttered "The toady-looking one?"
They watched as the woman stood up and fake coughed, to interrupt Dumbledore.
"Hem hem."
"That's the one, and absolutely not," Harry replied, unable to turn away from watching the front. Dumbledore looked a little surprised that someone had interrupted him, but stepped back to introduce her and let Umbridge speak. The professors at the head table had expressions that were a mixture of disbelief and annoyance, as none of them had ever dared interrupt Dumbledore during the welcome feast, and it was evident that they didn't approve of Umbridge doing it either.
"Well, it is certainly lovely to see so many bright and eager young minds at the ready for another year of learning at Hogwarts. And I'm sure you're all very excited to know that this year there will be someone to oversee the lessons and plans to ensure you're all learning at your tip-top levels in line with the Ministry's studies!
I'll be joining your classes and quizzing your professors to get a big grownup idea of how your school works, so don't you worry about having to answer any questions from me right now, though I'm sure when the time comes we'll all become friends and have a nice discussion."
She glanced around the room with a self-satisfied look on her face, but Harry suspected that she didn't notice how many of the students weren't actually paying attention.
"In the meantime, I am here to ensure that Hogwarts stays in line with the traditions and methods of our historic and gifted community and that the learnings of magic are maintained and continued on despite our necessity to conceal ourselves from the muggle world. Lessons need be consistent with the discoveries and teachings of our powerful ancestors, and innovation will be verified and monitored to ensure it is not disruptive to our world."
With that, she gave a pleased little nod at the crowd, who had mostly tuned her out, and sat back down.
"Why does the Ministry care so much about lessons here?" Ron asked, as the food appeared on the table.
"Well, they weren't really happy to hear that I can apparate," Harry shrugged, scooping potatoes for his plate. "And they were surprised by the patronus as well."
"You think they're here because you're learning ahead of schedule?" Ron laughed.
"No," Hermione quietly said, shaking her head. "I think someone at the Ministry is afraid of what students are being taught."
…
Harry followed Neville through the portal of the Gryffindor common room, his mind still stuck on the speech from Umbridge. He hadn't liked her at the Ministry, and he was even more suspicious of her now. The Ministry had never cared before about what was being taught at Hogwarts, and it seemed to be strange timing that they'd defeated Voldemort for good, a dementor had attacked him over the summer, and now Umbridge was there at Hogwarts.
Harry had continued to follow Neville to the tower stairs, before noticing that conversation and movement had stopped just after he'd entered. New students were standing by the fire places with a bewildered look as Ron sailed through his unpractised Prefect welcome speech, and some of the older ones were leaning down from the upper balcony and glaring at him.
Ron, finishing his speech with an uncertain, "so yeah," turned to see who everyone else was looking at.
"Right," Harry said, fidgeting with his robe pockets as he addressed the common room. "You've all seen the paper."
"Yeah, we bloody have," said Lee Jordan. Ron and Hermione moved to stand behind Harry, not making it a secret that they were backing him up.
"So ask your questions then," Harry challenged, nodding at Lee. Lee said nothing though, and it was a younger student, Lavender Brown, who spoke up instead.
"Are you secretly his kid?"
Ron bit back a laugh, but he wasn't very effective at hiding it.
"No," Harry answered, with a slightly confused look on his face. "I look nothing like him."
"Is that even legal? A Slytherin adopting a Gryffindor?" Colin Creevey asked.
"Why wouldn't it be?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "Houses don't mean anything outside of school. There's no legal power to any of them."
George, who was standing up on the bridge between the staircases for both dorms, shouted down at Harry.
"Hey Harry, can we call you the Heir of Slytherin again?"
"Yeah," Fred echoed. "Does this come with any perks we should know about?"
Harry gave them a two-fingered salute and looked back at the rest of his house.
"Any other real questions?" Harry asked. "I'm not having a repeat of second year or last year when people refused to talk to me so ask them now."
He was tired and wanted to go relax in his dorm and catch up with his mates about how the rest of their summers had been, but he also wanted to get this awkwardness over with as soon as he could.
"Yeah, why would you choose him? Why not McGonagall, or Lupin, or literally anyone else that isn't so hateful?" Angelina Johnson asked. She was lounging in front of the fire, an interrupted game of gobstones in front of her, and she didn't look that bothered by the conversation. "I fully understand needing a guardian and all, but I would honestly choose a quidditch goal post over him."
There were a few laughs and Harry relaxed a little. Laughter meant that people weren't spitting mad and that he was on solid ground.
"Bad people aren't afraid of quidditch goal posts," Harry wryly told her.
"Slytherins sometimes are," Angelina ginned, sticking her hand up and doing an air high-five with George up at the balcony.
"Yesss," George cheered.
"Right well, speaking of them, I need safe, not nice," Harry continued, speaking over George. He pulled up his sleeve and unconsciously scratched at his arm where Wormtail had cut him. "You remember Moody being an impostor last year and how I was mysteriously entered into the most dangerous competition ever held at school? My parents were murdered, and I'm still a target for some of his followers."
"Thuper thcary target," George said.
"With your thcar and thpectacles," Fred continued with a grin to match his brother's.
Harry rolled his eyes and Hermione called up at them.
"Knock it off or I'll tell your mother."
Fred stuck his tongue out and George gave her a thumbs down.
"Don't give him ideas, Hermione, we don't want him setting Snape on us," Fred teased. Some of the other students, bored of the conversation and not caring as much about the news any longer once they'd realised Harry hadn't really changed, started to get back into their own conversations and move up to their dorms.
Hermione, sensing that Harry no longer needed her, shuffled the first years up the stairs toward the dorms.
"I've not…I won't… You're not giving me ideas. This isn't new. This is just the first it's been publicised."
"What do you mean this isn't new?" Lee asked. He'd joined Angelina at the gobstones game and was already losing.
"It's been a few years," Harry said, sort of fudging the truth. The official paperwork had been slightly less time, but he didn't count that technicality.
"Really?" Alicia Spinnet asked.
"Yes. And have I been different? Has Snape gone any easier on us?"
Ron scoffed and flopped down in the cushy armchair that they used to be able to share when they were smaller.
"You'll also notice that nothing that happens here gets shared, Seamus with the vodka gummy bears last year."
"No need to call any of us out, Harry," Seamus grumbled.
"So yeah, outside of school it's a little different for me now, but school stays the same. No favours, nothing."
Lee gave Harry a suspicious look, but Angelina and Alicia shrugged.
"All right. You're forgiven for now, Harry," Angelina said. "But if this costs us the Quidditch cup this year I will petition to have you booted out of Gryffindor."
…
The Slytherin common room was down a non-descript hall which Snape thought rather useless for subterfuge. It was a short hall with oddly spaced wall sconces and no doors to other rooms, and had no tapestries either. To Snape, it was painfully obvious that something was hidden there.
"Fer de lance," Snape said, standing between two of the sconces. The wall groaned as it shifted, revealing the door to him. At least the floors were the smoothest kind of flagstone in the castle, that echoed under his footsteps and announced his arrival.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," Snape said, standing at the top of the stairs. The common room was the lowest level of the dormitory, which allowed it to have cavernously high ceilings and a remarkable amount of light from the various chandeliers and wall sconces. The enchanted windows leading up to the top of the room showcased a beautiful sunset and gave a warm glow to the room. Both fireplaces were roaring, and the plush couches and window seats were already filled with students lounging about and catching up over their summers. The first years were in awe of the room and of the giant wall of windows to the Great Lake, but the older ones were staring at Snape, a select few with a look of mutiny. He slowly gazed over his Slytherins, taking care not to unnaturally linger on any of them as he did a quick check. Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, Parkinson; all looked surly and annoyed at being back at Hogwarts, but it was less intense than the calculated loathing look that Draco Malfoy was sporting.
"I am Professor Snape, Potions Master and your Head of House," Snape continued. "Your house is your family whilst at Hogwarts, and I expect any concerns or disputes to be handled –"
"We know," Malfoy said, from his perch on the arm of the largest couch. "Slytherin has been looking after its own for centuries."
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," Snape said. "As a fifth year, and prefect, I also expect that you know that I do not tolerate interruptions in either my classroom or in my capacity of Head of House."
"Yes, sir," Malfoy gritted out.
"Any disputes within your house are to be handled by your prefects, or may be escalated to me. You are expected to attend your classes and complete your schoolwork as assigned, and be on your best behaviour in the castle. Slytherin has a great history of competition and success in both the House Cup and on the quidditch pitch and you are strongly encouraged to do your part both to support the team and to earn house points."
His eyes swept the room again to ensure that he still had the full attention of his students.
"You may find that the House of Slytherin is disparaged by some of the other houses," Snape began. "That our history and reputation is dark."
"Is in shatters."
"Do not interrupt me again, Mr Malfoy," Snape dangerously said. Malfoy did not cower at the look Snape sent, but Pansy Parkinson, sat next to him, shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"He's right though," Pansy said. "About Potter."
"Potter has nothing to do with Slytherin," Snape said. He swept his arm across the room, and nodded up to the balconies to the dorms, where some upper years were watching. "He is not here, and does not have access to the common room. He is with his own house, and will continue to be for the rest of his time at Hogwarts. You should all be aware that you are not entitled to know every aspect about your professors' lives, just as I do not pry into yours. As such, I will address this once, and only once. Potter has been in my care for years, and will continue to be despite any opposition arising from the Daily Prophet article."
Snape saw the ugly look of surprise on Malfoy's face and narrowed in on him.
"Oh yes, Mr Malfoy, years. And not once has there been any favouritism in class toward him or any other Gryffindor, nor will there be. I expect you to treat Potter as you would any other student, and nothing more."
He returned his glare to the rest of the room.
"If there are no further questions, I will leave the rest of the house announcements to the Prefects. Welcome to Slytherin, to the first years. You will do well in your new house."
He spun with a snap of his feet, his robes whirling behind him with dramatic effect that took him years to perfect. The door opened for him as he approached, and Snape didn't look back as he announced his last.
"Malfoy, Parkinson. You will serve detention with Filch this weekend."
….
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought a yawn. Dumbledore's office was warm and surprisingly not too crowded despite being filled with the four heads of house and a house elf preparing evening tea. It was only going on nine, but this morning's last breakfast at Lower Tarrow, listening to Harry laugh about the conclusion of the drama in their village (a fox had been digging up Mrs Tolliver's plants, and the bin men mixed up where to put back Mr Arnault's bins), seemed like it had taken place a fortnight earlier.
"Thank you for attending this late evening meeting."
Fawkes was glaring at them from his post, and the large clock behind the desk ticked loudly. It wasn't their normal beginning of the year staff meeting room, but then, the attendance wasn't the same either.
"Dolores Umbridge is here as an observer from the Ministry, as I'm sure you've all noted," Dumbledore said, staring out his window.
Snape sat still, but beside him Flitwick shifted in his seat.
"Have we done anything wrong?"
"No," Dumbledore said, turning to face them. "It is merely the opportunity for the Ministry to see what is a normal teaching year at Hogwarts."
"They've never been interested before, Albus," McGonagall said, delicately taking her teacup from the house elf.
"And they just happened to choose the year a werewolf rejoined the staff?" Sprout scoffed. "If this doesn't have interference written all over it, I'll eat poison ivy."
"Dolores assured me that she is here strictly to observe teachings of Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, with a small smile. "However, I believe it would be prudent to be on our own observant behaviour and ensure nothing appears… out of sorts shall we say."
"Like the aforementioned werewolf," McGonagall said.
"Or that for the first time in a century a staff member's child is also a student here," Flitwick pointed out.
"I could hardly be accused of treating Potter with favouritism," Snape dryly replied.
"Severus," McGonagall tsked. "Surely you don't only call him Potter."
"I have called him many things," Snape answered, before giving her a sly smile. She pursed her lips in amusement and shook her head.
"How have people taken the news?" Flitwick politely asked, as if he was enquiring about a new pet Snape may have acquired.
"There have yet to be any death threats," Snape said, after a second's consideration. "My house, as expected, did not take it favourably. Specifically, Draco Malfoy and his group of friends."
"As expected, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, and his gaze was searching. "Do you foresee any issues?"
"No more than the regular bullying Potter has endured during his time at Hogwarts. Though he has been told that whilst he is not to instigate anything, he has my full permission to defend himself."
"We'll keep that in mind," McGonagall said. "He confronted his house earlier this evening to clear the air."
"Subtly is harder to teach than defensive skills," Snape muttered, taking a sip of his tea.
"More of a Slytherin skill, I think," Flitwick said. He finished his tea and floated the cup over to one of the tables near Dumbledore's desk. "But Albus, we will be mindful of those two things with this Umbridge woman. At least I can say without a doubt that I've found Remus Lupin's teaching style to be quite successful."
"Yes, I'd agree with that," Sprout added. "As for the other, I'm sure you had reasons to keep this adoption secret, Severus. It's adoption, yes? Not just a legal guardianship?"
Severus felt his face warming a little. It originally had started as guardianship, but the papers he'd signed were aligned to adoption, and on the muggle side had been exactly that. Becoming someone's father wasn't ever something Snape had given much thought to, but knew now that the distinction was important to him.
"Yes," Snape said. "Adoption."
"Well congratulations, old man," Sprout said with a smile. She nodded at Dumbledore and rose from her spot. "Is there anything else?"
"No," Dumbledore answered. He had a warm smile on his face and was sitting comfortably in his desk chair. "But Minerva and Severus, if you could wait a few minutes, I would appreciate that."
As the door closed behind Flitwick and Sprout, the smile slipped off of Dumbledore's face.
"I do have concerns about Dolores Umbridge," Dumbledore started, "but first I want to invite you again, Minerva, to the Order of the Phoenix."
McGonagall's face paled, and she sat up straighter.
"Is he coming back, Albus?"
"He did," Dumbledore said, his voice grave and his expression slightly troubled.
"Stop being so dramatic," Snape interrupted. "Voldemort is dead, Minerva. He came back in the spring, to corporal form, and was killed off. He is dead."
Dumbledore somehow managed to look both annoyed that Snape had spilled the truth before him, and amused at Snape's impatience.
"Oh my," McGonagall said. "But, last year spring…with Alastor?"
"Yes," Snape said. He went on to give a very concise summary of what had actually happened in the spring, and of the few remaining aspects of the war, keeping his tone neutral. McGonagall looked horrified at the description of the graveyard and what had happened there, and only relaxed a little when Snape confirmed that the dead body had been verified by several aurors and properly disposed of.
"I imagine that Dolores being here has something to do with this. Fudge had promised to never reveal this cover up, but the timing of her arrival, and the dementor attack on Harry in the summer, are too coincidental," Dumbledore added.
"What needs to be done?" McGonagall asked, after taking a moment to process everything.
"Intelligence gathering, at the moment," Dumbledore said. "Please report what Dolores has been looking into, and what she has been asking about around the school. And if Sirius Black comes to call, as he will to visit his friend Remus, help him as you can without making it evident."
She nodded firmly. "And Harry?"
"Lucius Malfoy is aware that Harry and I were the ones to defeat Voldemort," Snape said. "And from what I have gathered from my Head of House meeting this evening, Draco has been informed. This information may be shared through Slytherin, but Draco has always been known to guard secrets to himself, as a form of power. At the moment, there is no public proof that Voldemort returned, and therefore no value to him to share it."
"But he might," McGonagall said.
"Yes," Snape answered. "We will need a plan for when this is revealed, but perhaps that can wait until this weekend."
He stifled a yawn again and Dumbledore gave a nod.
"We can adjourn for this evening. Look for my invite at the weekend."
"Do you really think they'll vilify him?" McGonagall asked, rising with Snape off the couch.
"He survived the killing curse twice," Snape said. "They'll be terrified of him if that becomes common knowledge."
She put her hand over her mouth and shook her head.
"That poor boy."
They both stopped as the fireplace whooshed green but instead of a person appearing, a note was spat out of it.
"The snake has been eliminated," Dumbledore read, with a grim smile.
…
"So, what is it now?" Malfoy sneered, bumping his shoulder into Harry as they waited outside of potions class. "Harry Potter, or Harry Snape? You think you're such a big shot that you deserve the attention of all the heads of houses?"
Harry kept his expression neutral, but filed that comment away. He's suspected there'd be feelings of anger and envy, as a Gryffindor became closer to their head of house than any of them.
"Either is fine," Harry said, not rising to Malfoy's bait. "Thought you'd be happy for me, since you pointed out so often how I didn't have a family."
Malfoy's expression darkened into fury and he stepped up close to Harry, pointing his wand at him.
"Fuck you, Potter. Just because you're on top now doesn't mean you'll stay there forever."
The door started to scrape open but Harry didn't back down.
"A lesson you'd know, wouldn't you?" Harry challenged back.
"Gentlemen," Snape said, crossing his arms and looking irritated. "Eager to lose points this early in the year?"
"No, sir," Malfoy sullenly said.
"No, sir," Harry followed.
Potions, with the Slytherins, was the class Harry had been dreading most. Harry knew it was inevitable and was rather glad he was getting it over with in the first week. He was receiving the expected glares, and the expected whispers, and was surprised that it didn't bother him as much as he'd thought it would. He had his protective charm on his cauldron, and felt a peace he wasn't really familiar with in potions. Certainly not one he was accustomed to.
"Mr Potter," Snape said, his voice cutting through Harry's thoughts. "Would you care to explain why you're two steps behind everyone else?"
Harry's face flushed a bit as he started to work quicker.
"No sir," Harry said. He could hear Malfoy sniggering behind him and suspected that everyone else in the class was watching with interest. Snape said nothing else though, moving on instead to criticise Neville's potion. Harry kept his head down and chopped his ingredient faster, knowing that Snape was right and that he was behind.
"Let me help you catch up, Potter," said a malicious voice, and Harry had a second to step aside before a thick chunk of hemlock root sailed toward his cauldron and was rejected with enough force that the cauldron tipped over and spilled the boiling contents onto the worktop. Harry scrambled to salvage his papers and potions book, and sent a minor burning hex back at Malfoy, who stopped laughing immediately and frantically clutched his arm with a furious look.
"Malfoy! Potter!" Snape barked, waving his wand to vanish Harry's potion. "See me after class."
