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Ravenclaw Girls and Hufflepuff Boys

"Can I ask you something, Harry?"

Harry blinks over the edge of his book. Since he came back to Hogwarts as an officially-announced "wizard on the low side of average," a few more people have talked to him than before, and there was a small article about what Peter did—something he couldn't be legally punished for, because it wasn't really a crime. The article only happened because of Dad's connections in the Ministry and because certain Wizengamot members wanted stricter laws regulating private Healers and used that as an excuse. It wasn't really about Harry.

And Cho Chang is one of the prettiest and most popular girls in Ravenclaw. Harry can't imagine what she wants with him.

"Sure," he says, when Chang only stands there with a friendly smile and doesn't go away or say it was a mistake. "What is it?"

Chang slides into the seat beside him. She's wearing some kind of delicate perfume that blends flowers and sea salt. Harry finds himself thinking of potions with that scent and wondering what would happen if you altered the proportion of sand dollars in them.

"Cedric says he saw you practicing some really advanced spells in a classroom the other day," Chang begins, pushing her black hair behind her ears.

"Cedric needs to keep his mouth shut," Harry mutters. Cedric is a good bloke, but he promised he wouldn't tell anybody when he saw Harry Transfiguring stone to sand and calling a fire intense enough to burn up the sand. He's a liar, evidently.

"I think he only wanted to make sure that you get recognized for your real talents, Harry."

Harry glances at her. She's leaning forwards a little, smiling. Her eyelashes shade enough of her eyes that it gives her a dreamy look, and Harry wonders if she's tired or something.

"Well, that's nice," he says, and faces his book. Right now, he's pursuing Astronomy theory for his OWLS even though it's a class he mostly ignores, because Professor Snape insisted. He acts as though Harry probably getting an Outstanding in Potions wouldn't be enough for him. He acts like Harry has to do everything or he won't succeed. But that's Snape for you. He has no limits to his ambition. "But I don't really need to be recognized. It's enough that people have stopped calling me a Squib."

And that is enough for now, even though Harry didn't think it would be. His parents' glances have turned less pitying than worried. They seem to think that Harry will go on blaming them even though they have stopped saying he's a Squib. They're anxious to work with him on homework and they owl him all the time and they're trying to learn what interests him after fifteen years of ignorance.

It's…nice, in a way. But it's not what Harry expected.

He thought things would change, they would become the sort of parents they are to Sol and Romulus and Alicia, and they would live happily ever after. But it hasn't. Mum and Dad are so worried about what they did and about being blamed that it's tiring to be around them.

And the sort of sad thing is, Harry doesn't actually care that it's tiring and uncomfortable to be around them. He somehow grew beyond the need for their approval even as he got it. He's not devastated that they're reacting like this. He owls them back every few days, he answers their questions, and he knows…

He knows that they're not the ones he wants to impress. He's got his eye on people beyond his family now.

"Harry!"

"What?" Harry turns back to Chang. He honestly didn't know she was still there. It seems strange to him that anyone would want to sit next to someone while they're thinking and stare at them.

Then again, Chang's a Ravenclaw. Harry has seen Ravenclaws doing that to each other in the library. Maybe it's their way of being friends.

"I want to get to know you," Chang says, her voice low. She reaches out and lets her hand hover near Harry's hand. Harry watches it in perplexity. Chang sits back in the end, but her low voice goes on. "I want to—maybe study with you, maybe go to Hogsmeade with you."

"Why?"

"I like you!"

Harry blinks a little. Then he says, "But we've never interacted. How can you like me if you don't know me?"

Chang honestly appears to be floundering. Harry watches her in more perplexity. He doesn't know what he did, but sometimes since the article and the revelation of Peter's treachery it's like this, he acts ordinary and people act like he's confusing.

Chang finally takes a deep breath and says, "I—think you're handsome, and I know that you're pretty powerful." She's blushing now. "I'd like to date you. No, I don't know you, but I'd like to." She holds Harry's eye for a second and then looks down. "Merlin, Harry, I know you're not in Gryffindor, but you practically force people to act like they are if they want to date you."

"I'm not powerful."

That gets him another blink. "But the article in the paper said—"

"Still on the low side of average," Harry interrupts. "It still takes me a lot of tries to get the spells right. The thing is that I have years of study behind me now and I've got a really good memory. I know ways to get the spells right that a lot of people don't. And there are spells that everyone can do—they depend less on raw power than most people think—it's just that they're difficult to work on, so people give up on them instead of learning them properly. Then the dedicated wizards and the lucky ones get them right, and everyone decides it must be about power. Not discipline. It's all about discipline, Chang. You know how even powerful adult wizards can't get the Shield Charm right a lot of the time? It's because they give up."

Chang almost flinches back from him when Harry says those words. Harry tries to calm down. He knows it isn't her fault. She's just been lied to all her life like Harry has, and Sol and Romulus have, and lots of other people. They believe that power is everything.

It's not. It's finesse and skill and discipline and patience that are everything. That's what Harry has.

And it's one reason that things are so uncomfortable with his parents. Mum and Dad have gone from one extreme to the other, thinking that Harry is a Squib and then thinking he's going to dazzle them all with displays of powerful, extraordinary magic. Harry only knows magic that's extraordinary for his age, but they're having trouble accepting that.

In truth, Harry feels a bit sorry for them, and for the people who were trying to gape at him right after that article came out. He even feels sorry for Peter, because his revenge was so shallow. The reliance on power, the belief in it as everything, is shallow, too. The world would be better if people valued things other than raw power.

"I—are you saying that power doesn't make any difference?" Chang asks cautiously.

"No," Harry says. "But I'm saying that some people act like it's destiny, and some people act like it's a shortcut. The first set think that powerful wizards can do anything they want and no one else can, and the second set get lazy. But the result is the same. People try to do spells, they don't get them right the first few times, and they give up and decide it's because they aren't powerful enough. And the few people who get them right get hailed as powerful, instead of disciplined. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy."

He cuts off, because Chang is staring at him. "What?" Maybe she's about to tell him he's wrong. Harry knows he isn't, because he's lived it, but he thinks that people might disagree with him, and he's prepared to defend his position if he has to.

"You're—you're brilliant, Harry," Chang breathes out. "That's a lot more attractive than being powerful."

"Er, thanks? I suppose?" Harry stares at her in bafflement. He was only speaking what he knows is true, not trying to impress anyone.

"Please come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend."

There's a loud thump right behind them, and Harry jumps and turns around. Professor Snape is standing behind them with his arms folded and his gaze drilling into—Chang, to Harry's utter surprise. He doesn't think that Snape is supposed to look at anyone who doesn't have the last name Potter that way.

"Potter," Snape says without glancing at him, "you have detention this evening that I will trust you not to forget."

It's true that he has a Potions lesson scheduled, but Harry didn't think that Snape was going to use the cover of a detention for it. He sighs a little and turns to face Chang. "Sorry for the interruption," he says. "But I'm afraid that I'm not going to go on dates this year. Maybe you should ask Cedric? Sometimes he looks at you like he wants to date you. And didn't you go to the Yule Ball last year?"

Chang jerks back from him. "We did, but we broke up," she snaps, flinging her hair over her shoulder this time. "You should know something like that."

"Sorry. I don't pay much attention to gossip, no matter who's saying it, Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs."

Chang gets up from the library table and storms away. Harry shakes his head. He supposes Cedric knows what he was doing, rescuing her from the bottom of the lake last year, but for once, he agrees with Sol. He wouldn't have chosen to rescue a girlfriend like that.

Jealousy

Harry Potter is not the one who has to worry about jealousy.

Severus saw the Potter sitting at the same library table with Chang and speaking passionately to her, and was incapable of holding himself back when the insistent girl actually invited him on a date. Now he watches Potter from a distance most of the time, when they aren't actually working on Potions or he isn't making the Potter revise for Astronomy, which he despises. Severus thinks Harry Potter capable of all Outstanding marks on his OWLS.

Harry thinks he's ridiculous.

Severus does not care. When Harry is revising or reading to revise or working on potions with him—this time, one of Severus's experimental brews that could replace the Disillusionment Charm if it advances far enough—he is not paying attention to the girls, and some boys, who are fluttering and sighing at him.

Are you jealous of schoolgirls and schoolboys?

Severus brushes off the thought that keeps returning to him, even though he knows the thought is right. He is not jealous of fumblings that might take place in darkened alcoves. He is jealous of the passion that Harry showed Chang. Harry should discuss his thoughts with Severus. He should explore magical theory with Severus. He should come to Severus when he has questions or wants to study.

So far, Harry's lack of friends and his dedication to academic pursuits have kept Severus free of that jealousy. But now there are people noticing Harry's accomplishments. He no longer hides them because he wants to show them to his family first. He showed his parents, and later his siblings, and he has grown beyond the need for their approval.

Severus does not want them to notice. Or rather, he wants them to notice, and then admire from a distance.

He is the one who discovered what Harry was and kept discovering. He is the one who offered the boy help with Potions and tamed his tongue in his presence. The others should not get the benefit of what he knows.

Part of him knows he is ridiculous to feel that way. The other part of him blesses Harry's obliviousness and continues to drive away the people who would ask him on dates when they try.

"I don't know why I can't master the Shield Charm yet."

Harry rolls his eyes. Sol is already doing better than Harry did the first hundred times he tried. "I told you. Power helps, but it's the dedication that really matters. Here, do you want to try again?"

"No. I need to rest a little."

Harry nods and steps back, letting Sol slump down on the chair in the empty classroom and call weakly for water. A house-elf pops in with it and pops back out. Harry would never ask an elf to do something like that for him, but it doesn't make Sol a bad person that he will. He's just different.

"How did you do this?" Sol asks, when he's drunk half the water and poured the other half on his head. "And you're still doing it. Even with all the frantic study that you have to do for your OWLS."

Harry blinks a little. "I'm not studying as much for the OWLS as some of the others are. I already know some of those things, and—other people care more than I do about me getting Outstanding marks on those tests." He almost said "Professor Snape," but he doesn't think that Sol would like to hear that. Snape still torments Sol. He doesn't do it with Romulus only because Romulus really tries in his class and doesn't always try to rely on raw power the way that Sol does most of the time.

"But—you need good marks on the OWLS to get good positions in the Ministry!"

Harry smiles a little. "I'm not going to work for the Ministry."

"What are you going to do, then?"

Harry considers his brother. Sol is leaning forwards on the chair, and he seems honestly interested. He apologized for calling Harry a Squib when he saw the Shield Charm that Harry could produce over the summer. So Harry decides that he can say this. "I'm going to work as someone advocating for Squibs. Even though they can't do what I can do, that doesn't mean they should be denied an education. They can still practice some things. History of Magic and Astronomy and Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, for instance. They can still see Hogwarts. They could go to school here."

Sol's mouth falls slowly open. Then he says, "But if you're going into politics, then you need to work with the Ministry."

Harry shakes his head. "It's advocacy more than politics. I might have to meet with people who work in the Ministry. But I don't have to have a job there myself. Where would they even put me? There's no department that handles that kind of thing." He knows that for certain. He tried to do research on Squibs and the test that condemned him for years, and there's almost nothing. Everything he did discover related to Healing, not the Ministry.

Sol keeps staring at him. "That's—really ambitious."

"I belong in Hufflepuff, not Slytherin."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way." Sol holds up one hand. "I'm just saying that it is really ambitious. Maybe you do need those Outstanding marks on your OWLS. Just so that other people will listen to you."

Harry tilts his head to the side. "Yes. Maybe that's a good reason."

Harry is distracted during their next brewing session. Severus keeps an eye on him and watches him nearly make a mistake, but always pull back at the last minute and manage to keep brewing. He can finally stand it no longer. "What has happened?"

"Hmm?" Harry glances up. "Oh, Sol just clarified for me that maybe I do want O's on my OWLS after all. It's going to be important to my career." And he turns back to the experimental potion and carefully sifts in the gold dust that Severus told him to with his mind seemingly focused.

As if he's made a decision. A decision that Severus isn't privy to, but his brother evidently is.

The brother who called him a Squib last year. The brother who has paid more attention to Harry since it's been revealed that he isn't, but who still hasn't gained as many privileges as Severus has been granted—or shouldn't have.

Jealousy still tastes like bile. Severus battles it back down. "And what is that career?"

"I'm going to advocate for Squibs to have an education at Hogwarts. There's plenty they can do. There would have been plenty for me to do even if I had been one. People are just letting prejudice control them and not looking."

Harry's eyes are aflame. Severus can remember seeing Lily's eyes like that, but this is different. This is something he wants to be involved in.

Something he should have told me about.

"And were you planning on asking for your mentor's help?" he asks smoothly, when some minutes have passed and Harry still hasn't realized that he did anything wrong. "Or did you think that I would never stoop to lend you my advice about advocacy for Squibs?"

Harry stares at him. "I—but why would you want to help me?"

Jealousy is suddenly lit on fire, and it's much harder to keep back flame than bile. "Excuse me?" Severus asks, and his voice is lower than he likes. But Harry doesn't back down, only keeps glaring at him. "Why would I not want to help you? What have I done with Potions and your study habits, if not help you?"

Harry shakes his head a little. "Sir, you've been helpful to me, yes, and I'm glad that you were there to see me reveal my magic to my parents." His hand toys with a stirring rod, but doesn't put it in the potion. There's a discipline about Harry even when he's distracted that Severus can't help but admire. "But I know that you only started helping me in the first place to get revenge on my father. Maybe even my mother, I don't know. I was actually surprised that you kept helping me this year. You've had your revenge. Why would you want to help me with anything else?"

"Yet you continued this arrangement without asking why?"

"I liked spending time with you, sir. I thought you might stop if I said anything."

Severus stares at Harry. That makes sense, when he thinks about it. Harry has accepted diminished respect from most of the adults around him. He would find Severus's behavior in continuing this past the moment of revenge puzzling.

It is understandable. It is also unacceptable.

"I also wish to continue this arrangement," Severus forces himself to say. "I have—grown accustomed to your presence."

Harry thinks about that, and then nods. "That makes sense, sir. Can we go on brewing now?"

"I have one more thing to say," Severus says, and finds himself confronting an intense gaze. He grinds his teeth. "I want you to come to me with your concerns, your problems, your plans. That includes things not directly related to Potions, like your advocacy for Squibs."

"Er. All right, sir. I don't have any problem with doing that," Harry adds, when Severus glares at him. "I just didn't have any reason to think you'd be interested."

Severus knows he shouldn't, knows that it might make Harry start suspecting exactly what he feels, but he can't help leaning forwards and saying in a low, intense voice, "Everything about you interests me, Mr. Potter."

Harry's eyes open wide, and for a second, Severus thinks he will see too much understanding there. But instead, Harry just grants him a dazzling smile and turns back to brewing the potion with no sign of discomfort.

It is important to Severus that Harry feel no discomfort. Otherwise, he might leave, and that is likewise unacceptable.