Chapter 19
Harry arrived at Snape's office for his Wednesday mentor session. If threatened with a three headed dog, he would admit he rather liked them. Snape was checking his work, and amazingly not being snide about it. Oh, he was a snarky git, but it wasn't meant nastily, Harry had learnt that in the last few months. Harry could sort of see why Snape acted as he did in Potions lessons. Even the other evening when brewing one on one there had even been a near miss.
Snape had come over to inspect his Aging Potion about three quarters of the way through. Harry had answered his questions but had then kept talking about why he was doing what he was doing and hadn't been paying attention. Harry had been stunned when Snape's hand had shot out and grabbed his wrist hard and hauled it away from the cauldron. Harry had yelped in pain. Snape had a tight grip.
"Sir, ow, you're hurting me." Snape hadn't let go, just slightly loosened up.
"What is in your hand?" he'd demanded.
"Newt spleen."
"What happens when you add Newt spleen early? Specifically to an overly hot alkali base?" snapped Snape.
Harry paused for a moment, then winced. "My cauldron would explode, sir."
"Be very, very grateful this falls under mentoring, Mr Potter."
"I am, sir, very," replied Harry. He was sure that had he done that in last week's class Snape would have deducted points then dragged him to his office and put him over his desk.
But even so, Snape hadn't yelled. He hadn't needed to. And Harry was only one person, not twenty five dunderheads as the man put it. Harry did begin to see.
But this evening, Harry was a bit worried. Snape was a thinker, and last session Harry hadn't been quick enough to act normal. He had a funny feeling Snape might want to dig there some more.
Sure enough, Snape looked serious. He indicated a chair. Harry sat down and waited. He wasn't an idiot. It could be about something else entirely, he wasn't going to volunteer information.
"Mr Potter, mentoring isn't all about academia, is it?"
"No, sir, there was that dragon you kept me alive from." Harry desperately tried to inject a bit of humour, whatever this was about Harry was sure he wouldn't like it."
"I expect at some point that mentoring is hard for you. Like the first couple of sessions where the Headmaster had to intervene."
"Sir."
"That is an exceptionally annoying habit you've picked up. While it is occasionally mildly humorous, if you say that again in the next hour, I'll take fifty points from Gryffindor every time."
Harry had an urge to repeat himself, but Snape's expression didn't suggest he was joking.
"Yes, sir."
"I remember saying that students usually realised remaining polite was just good manners."
That wasn't a question. Harry waited.
"And you remember I've had to remind you that the ruler stays in the drawer?"
"Yes, sir." Harry was now really worried. Snape was going to ask something non-academic, that would cause him to lose his temper. And the man knew it in advance. This was so about the Dursleys."
"Mr Potter, I have a question. Do your aunt and uncle like magic?"
Harry turned to the door, debating just leaving.
"There is a silencing charm around this room. You can say exactly what you like, Mr Potter."
Damn. Keep calm. Bluff.
"I wouldn't want to presume what they're thinking, sir," replied Harry, proud of himself for remembering one of Snape's own snarky lines.
"You'll probably wish you answered that question properly, Mr Potter. They're going to get more awkward. Why did it require hitching a flying Ford Anglia onto bars outside your windows to get you to the Weasleys?"
Harry stopped breathing. He just wasn't even going to go there. Someone had told. It could be any of them, he supposed, including Mr or Mrs Weasley. Snape could have done a deep dive. No-one had been furtive about getting him out of the house that summer. And last year there was all the official stuff about Marge. Even Fudge had known about him staying in Diagon. But no-one had cared enough in the past to do anything about it, which kind of suited Harry. But why was Snape therefore so bothered now?
"My aunt and uncle are afraid of magic, sir."
"And the bars?"
"When I was in primary school I accidentally apparated onto the school roof. I think they were a bit funny about windows, roofs and where I might be after that, sir." That wasn't a lie. They really were, but Snape wasn't an idiot.
"And what were you escaping to find yourself on the school roof, Mr Potter?" letting the obfuscation slide.
"Playground bullies, sir. It was accidental magic."
"Were any of those bullies your cousin, Mr Potter?"
Silence. Well that hadn't worked.
Harry thought about his next response carefully. He really did. He actually weighed up angering the man enough to get thrown out or ending up over the desk instead of answering the question.
"Fuck off."
Snape didn't even blink.
"Try again, Mr Potter," drawled Snape.
"You did hear me just tell you to…"
"Quite clearly, yes, Mr Potter. Did it help?" Snape asked, with an edge of snarkily solicitousness.
Harry stared down at the desk. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Look at me, Mr Potter," said Snape quietly.
Harry looked up. He wasn't rude enough to ignore a polite request for something simple. Harry looked him in the eye.
"I suspect your aunt and uncle really don't like magic do they?" Harry's thoughts were full of flashed scenes from his childhood. It was like not thinking of pink elephants. "That your cousin does bully you." Visions of Harry Hunting marched across Harry's thoughts. "That they keep you in the house to stop you from being seen in the neighborhood if you do anything out of the ordinary." Thoughts of all his outside chores belied that statement.
"Potter, I am aware you might not want to talk to me about this. Bat. Dungeons. Snarky git. I understand. But you need to speak to someone. I won't mention this topic again until after Easter, you are staying here after all. You have said enough things to imply that you'd rather stay with your Godfather than the muggle family you know. That makes me wonder why, Mr Potter. Now, for all I know, you simply might be over muggle living. But I don't believe that's the entire story. I know you think me a cruel, cold-hearted git, Mr Potter, but as with every member of my house, your welfare is my concern. I'll give you some time to consider this subject, especially as I'm sure you will spend some time with Black over the upcoming holidays. But I will talk to you about this again, Mr Potter."
Harry fought back panic. Not here. Not now. "Please don't, sir. They'll, it won't help. That's where I live. Blood relatives. That's what the Headmaster said. They're fine, honest. Magic just weirds them out, but as I can't do magic over summer, it's not really an issue," added Harry, impressively managing to calm his voice and sound reasonable.
"I'm not going to lie to you about this, Mr Potter. I will follow this up. I don't think you're quite in the frame of mind to talk about either school work or the final task, Mr Potter. I will bid you goodnight."
Harry got up and walked out without a glance behind him.
Harry ran to the owlery. It wasn't quite dark outside, but it soon would be. The place was empty. Hegwig hooted softly. Harry ruffled her feathers and cried. Why was his life a mess? What did Snape know? What did Snape suspect? No-one knew what life was like inside the house. Harry could still try to salvage the flying car and Marge as an overreaction from both his relatives and himself. Keep everything light. Don't rock the boat, don't make things worse, just get out to Sirius. However whackadoodle the man was after Azkaban, Lupin could help. It'd be fine.
He stayed in the owlery until 5 minutes before curfew. Just enough time to get back. He slipped up to his dorm without speaking to anyone and fell asleep fully dressed on top of his bed.
Snape sat in his office. He pondered everything he'd seen in the boy's mind. The boy hadn't known he was there. He'd practically projected those memories in anger, angry that Snape would belittle his childhood. Proof he'd had a neglected upbringing and wasn't the brat Snape thought.
Snape took a calming draught. He rather fancied hexing the Dursleys, all three of them, until they couldn't stand up. They did that to Lily's child. Bastards.
His rage subsided. It turned into scheming.
Next day, Harry woke up early feeling groggy. He had an existentialist moment where he wondered why he was fully dressed, then the memories flooded back. Shit.
He had Potions today. Everyday for the rest of the week in fact. Sod that. He was going to skip that class. He made sure he packed his invisibility cloak in his bag with his things that morning. He stayed close to Ron at breakfast, refusing to even look to see if Snape was at the top table.
After Transfiguration he told Ron and Hermione he needed the bathroom and would catch them up.
"Be quick, it's Potions," said Ron. "He'll take a bucket load if you're late." Harry nodded, and went into the bathroom. It was empty. He threw his cloak on and waited for the crowd in the corridor to die down. When he heard silence he left the bathroom and went outside and down to the lake. He walked around it for an hour or so until he judged the lesson over then headed back inside.
It was morning break. Harry didn't want to be found by Snape in a corridor, the man was probably hunting him down. He therefore couldn't be found with his friends either. He went to his next classroom early. It was Charms. He let himself into the classroom quietly and sat in his seat with his cloak on. He'd take it off in the hubbub of people arriving.
Flitwick let the class in. Hermione managed to not scream when Harry slipped his cloak off. Flitwick didn't notice anything odd.
At lunch Harry received a note. 'Your absence was noticed. Do it again and I'm taking points.' Harry didn't even look towards the top table. He just screwed up the note and put it in his bag.
"Snape miss you?" asked Ron.
"Uh huh."
"He's looking directly at you right now. I'm surprised you can't feel it," said Hermione looking over to the top table.
"He can go fuck himself," said Harry quietly.
"Bad session?" asked Hermione, blushing. She had a really bad feeling about what Snape had asked.
"Could say that, yeah."
Harry continued to miss Potions for the rest of the week. Ron was genuinely ready to wet himself on Friday in class when Snape asked him where Harry was. Hermione had told both boys that it was up to Harry if he wanted to choose to miss classes and face the fallout from that, but that Harry shouldn't tell them where he was hiding in case either of them were asked.
"I don't know, sir," Ron had squeaked.
Immediately after he'd dismissed the students, Snape reached into his drawer and retrieved the map. It took him a moment to scan for the boy. Unharmed, just avoiding him by the lake again. He put the map away and prepared for his next class.
On Monday Harry missed his mentor session. He didn't have Potions on Mondays. On Tuesday he missed Potions again. Hermione and Ron begged Harry to come. At some point Snape was going to go mental.
Harry received a note at dinner. 'Summons to the Headmaster's office. 6:30pm.'
"Snape?" asked Ron, glancing at the top table to find Snape looking at the trio.
"Dumbledore." Ron's and Hermione's eyes swivelled to the Headmaster. They looked away very quickly, his stare was worse than Snape's. Harry hadn't taken his eyes off his plate.
6.31pm. "I will literally get down on my knees and beg you to go," said Ron. "You can't ignore a summons to the Headmaster's office."
"Why not, don't care," said Harry, dully.
"Hey, Fred, got a minute?" asked Ron.
The twins ambled over. "Do you remember telling me about that time you tried to avoid a summons to the Headmaster?"
"Please don't remind me about that," said Fred, with a wince. "It wasn't a stellar choice."
"What happened?" asked Hermione.
"Well, it started with an elf popping us directly there and ended up with dad coming to pick us up to take us home for an hour. Let's just say we didn't enjoy sitting for the rest of the day."
Ron gulped.
There was a pop next to Harry. "The Headmaster summoned you, Mr Potter."
The elf and Harry popped away.
"He's gonna need a cushion when he gets back," said George.
Harry materialised standing in front of Dumbledore's desk. Dumbledore was writing. The man didn't look up or stop what he was doing. Harry began to get a bit nervous. Perhaps he'd gone a bit far to ignore Dumbledore.
Dumbledore looked up.
"I rarely get referrals from Professor Snape, Mr Potter. Students tend to do exactly as they've been told. I'm sure you know why. Yet I have a note here that says you've skipped class four times and a mentoring session once. I'm sure Professor Snape isn't best pleased about that. What do you think, Mr Potter?"
"Probably not, sir," replied Harry nervously.
"I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Mr Potter. When I send you a summons, I expect you to come."
"Yes, sir."
"The consequences of ignoring a summons can be quite unpleasant."
"Yes, sir." Harry was now very nervous indeed. He really had gone a bit far.
"You appear to be avoiding Professor Snape."
"Sir."
"Take that attitude with me and I'll take a ruler to your behind, Mr Potter," said Dumbledore sternly.
"Sorry, sir. Yes, sir, I'm avoiding Professor Snape."
"Are you aware his usual method of dealing with unauthorised absenteeism is he has one of the elves pop said absentee into his office, then he doles out half a dozen with his ruler, and tells them not to be so bloody stupid in future."
Harry swallowed. "No, sir."
"Perhaps I'm expected to have to do that part for him, Mr Potter? Hmmm?"
Blood drained from Harry's face. "I… Please don't, sir."
"Why are you avoiding Professor Snape? And Mr Potter, I don't recommend anything other than the truth."
"He asked some awkward questions last mentoring session," replied Harry.
"And is that a reason not to go to Potions class? Does he ask you questions of that nature in there? Or is class purely of an educational nature?"
Harry had to admit, Snape never crossed the two. He kept them very distinct.
"No sir, I suppose not."
"So you will be attending Potions classes from now on? Unless you wish to experience Professor Snape's usual deterrent?"
"Yes, sir," replied Harry.
"You have one week's detention with Mr Filch and a three foot essay on the importance of a good education, Mr Potter."
"Yes, sir," said Harry dejectedly.
"You will also attend all future mentor sessions."
"No!" shouted Harry, forgetting his current situation momentarily.
Dumbledore stared at him.
"I set these sessions up, Mr Potter. If you miss them, you will answer to me. I am more than willing to take a leaf out of Professor Snape's book on absenteeism."
"He'll carry on being a nosey g… person, sir," cringed Harry, realising too late that his manners might matter about now.
"Professor Snape very deliberately did not tell me what he'd asked you, Mr Potter. However he said he wouldn't bring it up for another month. Professor Snape keeps his word."
"I don't want to," said Harry petulantly.
"I am afraid there are lots of things in this world we don't want, Mr Potter, but these sessions are something you need. Attend or face the consequences. Your backside will cave long before I change my mind."
Harry fumed. "Yes, sir."
Dumbledore nodded. "Now, what should we do about you ignoring my summons and shouting at me?" he asked casually.
"I'm very sorry about both of those things, sir. I get angry."
"More reason to attend your mentoring session, Mr Potter." Dumbledore's stare was actually terrifying. Harry was quite ready to throw up. Time seemed to slow down.
"You have a further week's detention with Mr Filch. You may go, Mr Potter," said Dumbledore quietly.
Harry looked in disbelief. He did not question it. He turned to go. When he was halfway across the room when Dumbledore spoke again."
"If you ever ignore a summons again, Mr Potter, you're going over my desk."
"Yes, sir, sorry, sir," said Harry, feeling like he'd escaped a firing squad.
Dumbledore watched the boy go. That boy didn't know how lightly he'd got off. Severus had specifically requested Dumbledore didn't physically punish the boy for missing class, 'just terrorise the dunderhead into turning up in future'. But Albus really disliked that a student thought his summons could be ignored and a week's detention with Argus didn't seem like his usual justice.
Next day Harry went to all classes. Snape silently dropped a parchment on Harry's desk. A list of chapters to read and essays to write. Missing class, between Dumbledore's punishment and Snape's catch up work, was really not worth it.
Harry went to his mentor session that evening. Snape didn't mention anything. Not missing last session, not missing class, nothing about the Dursleys. Harry learnt how to do an Accio properly instead.
"You never said why Harry missed your classes, Severus," said Dumbledore casually the next day.
"I asked him about his home life, Albus. The same as I asked Minerva and Miss Granger. Perhaps we could step into your office so I can talk to you about it too?" Severus's request only just came out as one.
When they'd settled in Albus' office, Severus didn't beat about the bush.
"I've spent the last few days internally debating how to broach this topic with you, Albus," said Severus. "The only reason I haven't mentioned it before now is that Potter is currently safe."
"That's debatable, Severus," replied Dumbledore, "There are still Death Eaters out there."
"That wasn't the danger I meant, Albus," replied Severus. "Have you been to Potter's house to check up on him, ever?" asked Severus.
This was the reason he'd really hadn't yet had this conversation. The answer to this question frightened Severus. Albus Dumbledore didn't always see people. He saw goals. He saw pawns in a chess game. So long as those pawns were moving in the right direction, Albus was able to see the detail. But sometimes, Albus only saw the move he wanted that piece to make.
Make no mistake, Albus was intelligent, he had been juggling the day to day running of a school for years. The little things about that role, Albus executed perfectly: the speeches, the conversations with the Board of Governors, the odd student infraction that made it to his office. Albus remembered most students for years after they left. He was a natural for faces and basic information about people. He came across to most as someone who cared about individuals. But Severus knew that wasn't always true. If a pawn had to be sacrificed, Albus would. Albus believed in bonum commune communitatis. But for 99.9% of people the individual good and the greater good overlapped.
Potter had the potential to be an exception.
"Why do you ask?" asked Albus.
"For Merlin's sake, just answer the bloody question," snapped Severus.
Albus raised an eyebrow. Severus continued to glare, his occulmency shields in place. Severus didn't back down.
"No, I did not."
"Not even given you sent Hagrid to make sure he got his letter?"
"I thought it best to send someone known rather than a ministry employee," said Albus, refusing to be defensive. "It occurred to me that perhaps the Ministry had assumed about the boy. I did not want to bring Harry's potential lack of magical knowledge to their attention."
Oddly, Severus could see the logic in a bit of that explanation, but no logic whatsoever in Albus' choice of messenger.
"And you didn't think Minerva, Pomona or Filius would've been better options?" asked Severus incredulously.
"I don't recall when it became necessary for the Headmaster to be accountable to his Potions Master, Severus," snapped Albus.
"Were you aware that the Dursleys might not have appreciated Potter being dumped on them?" Severus continued, changing tack. "After all, you just said…"
"I am aware of what I just said, Severus," said Dumbledore. "I knew that there wasn't exactly a cordial relationship between Lily and her sister, but I believe in family, that they would take him in and put a roof over his head. I knew that they lived very, very muggle lives. I knew that accidental magic for example, wouldn't be, shall we say, appreciated in suburban Surrey."
"So you are aware that Potter wasn't ever going to win a favourite child award in that house? I took a look into Potter's mind the other day." Albus' eyes grew hard. "Don't give me that look, you do it all the time, Albus," growled Severus. "Did you know?"
"Know what, Severus?" asked Albus, beginning to get angry at Severus's inquisition with no explanation.
"The abuse and the neglect, Albus, and believe me, I have chosen my words accurately."
Albus' magic crackled. Severus held his ground.
"No, I did not. Are you sure?"
"I told you, I looked into his mind."
"How bad is it?" asked Albus, looking older than his years.
Severus was relieved. Albus' genuine anger had frightened Severus if he had to admit it. But Albus' anger had subsided into hurt. The man hadn't known.
"Bad enough, but could be worse. Potter has been very good at hiding these things, although his friends have an idea that something is wrong, they aren't aware of the scale. I saw flashes of scenes in his mind, split second stills, imagery. I have not seen the full extent, I could not without him realising I was looking. Most of what I have seen is neglect and emotional abuse. Shouting in his face, calling him a freak, missing meals as a punishment, rewarding the son over him for being normal'. There are however a number of incidents involving him being thrown in a cupboard, nips, slaps, pinches. The uncle is heavy handed, grabbing the boy by the upper arm. He is treated like a house elf, cooking, cleaning, shopping, gardening. Bear in mind these are the incidents top of Potter's mind. I did not delve deeper. The boy may have hidden things."
"You found out last week I take it?"
Severus nodded.
"What would you like to do about it?" asked Albus. "Legally!" he added hurriedly, seeing Severus's face change.
"He needs to be removed."
"There is nowhere for him to go right now," insisted Albus. "Sirius would take him. He offered, but knows he's not yet suitable. Perhaps some form of arrangement could be made in summer for Harry to spend time elsewhere, but we must also consider the wards. We can work to protect Harry in the house?"
Severus ground his teeth. He could not afford to rip Dumbledore's head off right now. Severus would lose any kind of direct confrontation. The greater fucking good was coming back to the fore. Albus was being the benign dictator again and they both knew it.
"Black will never be suitable!" snapped Severus. "And you know what I think of sending the boy back under any circumstances. I do not have to spell out what I think of your suggestion, do I?"
"I think we'd both rather agree to disagree over this, Severus," said Albus. "Talk to Minerva. The man is different. He needs time."
"Time Potter doesn't have. He's not going back to that abusive house in summer."
"Until Sirius is ready, that house needs to not be abusive, Severus," said Albus, ignoring Severus' objections. "Put your mind to it. Perhaps someone can stay with them? Regular visitors, that kind of thing."
Snape ground his teeth. Right. That kind of thing.
Severus didn't do half-baked scheming. A good plan required time to mature. It wasn't yet the Easter holidays. There were still three months of the school year until Potter had to return to Privet Drive and that was only if Severus couldn't prevent that first.