The usual disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just having fun. :)
A few weeks earlier, detention in the dungeons...
"Revenge doesn't work." Harry dissected the newt and placed various parts into different jars.
"Excuse me?" Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow at the child.
"Revenge, it doesn't work."
Snape, whose life sometimes seemed to revolve around revenge, was baffled. "You don't desire retribution for those who have wronged you?" Then Snape sneered, "If you're turning into some kind of 70's flower child because of these art classes I may have to put a stop to them."
Harry's eyes darkened and narrowed, "My enemies deserve to pay and will do so, but revenge doesn't work."
"Oh, great, wise 13 year old, pray tell your wisdom." Snape gave a mock bow.
"Revenge implies you want to do worse to them than they did to you. Once you've done the awful thing to them they are going to get you back in turn. It's a hamster wheel. Well, unless the power is unbalanced." Harry dropped two eyes into one jar and moved on to the next lizard.
"Do continue."
"If the power is unbalanced, one person is always angry and the other is just a bully. But the bullies are always angry too."
Snape's brow furrowed, "Bullies are angry? The ones I know always seem to enjoy bullying."
"Yeah, but they are bullying others because they are angry." Harry sliced down the abdomen of the newt and began to sort the guts.
"So the problem with revenge is everyone is angry and will keep being angry? If revenge isn't your solution, but neither is daisies and rainbows, how do you intend to make everyone happy?"
"Happy isn't the goal. A truce is the goal and the privilege is being content around each other."
Snape chopped some willow leaves and slid them into a potion. "Do you have a plan for achieving this truce and contentment?"
"Use wit rather than fist, have someone working with you and an eyelid for an eye."
Snape frowned, "I think you misquoted that saying."
Harry shook his head. "You have to act or you're just making yourself into a dust rag. But you can't act in kind either. Then they know they got to you and will continue to hassle you. The only way to get them to stop is to show you're not a weakling or a target."
"Reacting in anger makes you weak?" Snape added a drop of porcupine blood to his cauldron.
Harry cast a drying spell on the newt's peeled skin and added the leathery item to the grotesque, growing pile. "Of course, because it means you're not strong enough to take what they are dishing out."
Snape paused in his stirring, "So you're not supposed to be angry with them for attacking you?"
Harry snorted, "If you didn't get angry they wouldn't be succeeding at their goal. The trick is using your wits and not showing the anger. Otherwise you're still running in circles."
"How is this plan of yours working out?"
"Not too well yet. I'm on my own at the Dursley's and Ron," Harry shrugged, "He's a good friend, but his instinct is to defend and he's usually pretty angry. So I chase my tail on the hamster wheel. For the time being in any case."
A week later, in a "detention"...
"Isn't this technique a bit Hufflepuff?" asked Harry.
"Weren't you the one to insist only a week ago that team work is needed to stop bullies?"
"Yeah, but I didn't think we'd be practicing signaling and teamwork casting."
"How do you ever expect to succeed at the goal if you don't practice?"
Harry felt his right hand tingle, indicating Snape was preparing to act and Harry needed to be prepared to react. A seagull sprang from Snape's wand and dove toward the suit of armor they were using as a target. The suit of armor stepped to the side and began to swing his sword. Harry transfigured the bird into a flying, spiky chain that slammed into the sword, pushing it back; the chain continued its momentum and swung around the sword and the sconce behind the soldier, entangling the two long enough for Harry and Severus to each sever a metal leg. Harry's left hand tingled, signaling success.
The art exposé after the McTacozzia dinner...
Snape, like Black, was being dragged hither and thither by an orphan desperate to have an adult to share their successes with. Snape was trying to restrain the little monster's rambunctiousness, but the 11 year old was wound up on soda and pizza. The child should be bogged down with the amount of food in his gullet, but was instead bouncing like a bored house elf. (Or if Snape was witness to the party in the kitchen he'd be thinking of him as a fast food addicted house elf.) Snape rubbed his brow as the child called out again, "Professor! Look at this chair! It has snakes carved on it! I made the vase on the table next to it. They'd look perfect in the common room by the fireplace! Can we have them in there? Please, sir?"
"This is a silent auction Devries. There is no telling who will get it."
"But you'll try won't you? Please, sir."
They say parents will do anything for their children. Snape was currently getting a migraine for his snakes, and hadn't had the opportunity to retrieve a potion to cure it. All Snape wanted to do was escape all this chaos. But each time he tried Devries would look at him with those pleading eyes or a parent would approach him with some question or another. Added to that, starting the Art Department had been his plan for achieving the goal of acceptance for his snakes, and the only way he could legitimately earn his own privilege (renting a red convertible with limitless speed) was to stick this out and do what he could to encourage parents to buy the furniture, paintings, dishes, quilts and nicknacks the students had created, regardless of the House of the student that created the item.
Devries also seemed to have lost the inhibition that typically prevented the snakes from letting outsiders know that Snape not only took his nestlings side, but actually listened to what they had to say. It was taking all of Snape's grit to keep from lashing out at the child for revealing this side of the dungeon bat. The grit didn't hold. Snape swooped out a bat wing and drew in the bouncing boy, "Decorum, Devires or you'll spend the evening as a piece of the artwork. One flick and you'll be a statue. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
The students were beginning to adapt to the idea that people had value regardless of House. The adults were struggling with the concept. They were trying desperately to bring normalcy to their world. A mouse, that finds his way inside, will build a nest. A cow migrated to a new pasture will continue to chew their cud of grass. Lucy will boss people. Linus will clutch his blanket. Pigpen will walk in a dust cloud. And Gryffindors and Slytherins will snub each other. None of this will change. People fear change. They'll fight tooth and nail against it until a hammer slams that nail into their hand and they finally have their eyes popped open enough to see that the change is one even they can find valuable.
Sirius was one of those that needed the nail in the hand. He'd dissappeared from the world 12 years ago, during a time of war. Despite it being a Gryffindor, a former friend, that had betrayed them, in Black's mind Slytherins were still the enemy and still deserved to be treated like boot crud. He smiled slyly. Right in front of him was his favorite target. Instinct kicked in and he went in for the attack.
"Sneaky, snake Snape, why don't you slither to your dungeon and take your nestlings with you."
Harry's eyes froze in shock, then glinted with anger. He took a large step back from his Godfather. Black was focused solely on his target. The target's skin morphed into scaly snake skin.
Snape's brain snapped to rage and retribution, but in the exact moment he prepared to snarl he felt a light tingle in his right hand fingertips. A new instinct kicked in, one he had trained with Harry on: teamed spell work, combined with a bit of wit and disguising the anger.
Harry, with the most minuscule of gestures and whispered spells, caused one of the balloons from the ceiling to drift down, reshape into a heart and then burst in front of Sirius' face. The word BULLY materialized in the air. Black, who was unaware of who had cast the spells, responded, "Is that all you've got? A popped heart? I guess I gave your casting too much credit."
"My apologies. I merely thought we were introducing each other. You correctly introduced me as a successful sneaking snake that has accomplished much with Slytherin skills and I likewise was introducing you as a colorblind bully. Again, my apologies. I had intended to assist you with the colorblindness. Accio sunglasses." A pair of sunglasses from the playground theater set came flying into Snape's hand. "Adfectio amethystinus purple." The sunglass lenses turned purple. One more spell and they were stuck to Black's face, destined to stay there for a few hours. "There, now your eyes are less shrouded by absurd color divisions. Thank you for the skin by the way. It is quite the honor to so represent the founder of my House. If it were another night I would continue to wear it with pride, but alas, tonight's motto is Art Unites and this snake skin represents too much of a division." With an utterance, Snape's skin returned to normal. "Do enjoy your evening."
Harry sent the "battle won" signal to Snape's left hand and they each ventured in different directions. Black just stood there befuddled. Snape hadn't reacted, at least not in a way Sirius had anticipated. Harry called twice before Sirius took notice. "Come on Sirius. I want to show you the picture I drew."
Sirius followed after his godson, looking back now and then, pondering the change in his prey.
Harry was a mess of emotions: anger and disappointment at his godfather's actions; pride in his teamwork with Snape; and the residual emotions: the thrill of success, and eagerness at spending time with Sirius. They were all jumbled and fighting to come out on top.
Survival requires its own kind of act. Harry hadn't had a mere few months of acting skills under his belt, he had nearly a decade of them. Lies to avoid getting struck, lies to prevent teachers from knowing about his home life, emotions faked to prevent anger directed his way, or to display courage and confidence he didn't feel. All that he had done to survive his relatives, the attacks at Hogwarts and for the success of all his plots and plans this year had required him to do something his relatives detested, play make believe. The world was his stage and he acted his way through life, one event at a time. So like many a time afore, he disguised his true thoughts and feelings and performed the next act. The curtain fell on returning a helping hand and rose on teen with new pseudo parent.
Snape finally made it to his office to retrieve the headache reducer at 11:35. The parents were gone and the children had been shooed off to their dorms. Getting them to go to sleep would be a useless endeavor so Snape chose to neglect his typical trip through Slytherin House. On his way to the potions cupboard Snape spied on his desk a muggle folder, one he had never seen before. Perusing the inside he found a series of drawings of privileges, goals and plans and a sentence description of each at the top.
Privilege-August
A home with an adult that cares about my welfare.
September
Discovered that a rat animagus was in on the plot to kill my parents and me. My Godfather is innocent.
Goal- October
Prove my Dogfather is innocent so I can live with him.
Plan-October
Find out who the rat is.
November
Discovered the rat's identity. Keep an eye on him, think of a way to ensure he is caught and arrested. Maybe fake his death and put him in an unbreakable cage. Let Dogfather know I'm safe so he won't get caught.
December
Tell a lie poorly to Snape. He'll insist I join the theater. Since it will be his idea he'll be less likely to suspect my intentions with the play.
"Why that little... How could he possibly know how I'd react?" Snape continued to peruse the folder.
January
Post signs advertising a play contest. Finish writing the play. Scripts must be anonymous.
February
Find a way to get my play to win the competition and be preformed. Figure out how to make Lupin suspect Sirius is innocent without directly telling him. Perhaps I could get Lupin to be on the committee to choose the winning play and he will realize what really happened that night and will insist that it wins so people will learn the truth.
Mid-February
The play selection committee has been chosen. Use potions to deter all but Lupin from choosing the script.
"Potions?! Potter had used potions to get the committee members to quit?!"
April
Discover the identity of ethical police officers who use their brains rather than jumping to conclusions; invite them to the play. Get someone to do something illegal to get the Aurors to come investigate so I can discover who thinks and who assumes. Maybe involve the Malfoy's and Dobby. It'd be nice to free Dobby and potentially get a Malfoy in trouble.
Potter was responsible for that mess in Hogsmeade! Snape seethed. He could practically feel the paddle in his hand, ready to be swung down on that ungrateful bum! Curse those parenting guides! "Don't confuse the dunderheads. Always be consistent and keep your word."
If he hadn't just spent the past five months teaching the brat to defend himself he'd still be able to wallop him for endangering his life. Now all he could do was issue a detention for sneaking out. But even that was bulloxed, because Snape had also been instilling in Mr. Fuss' mind that if he lied well enough he'd let him get away with anything to do with a plot. Snape smirked. Harry's next detention, real or fake, was going to be spent listening to Snape's memory of Jr. and Sr. Malfoy's incessant whining over the event.
May
Convince Professor Snape to be in the play. Pretend to be a Slytherin while doing this. Snape's presence will confirm to the audience that the potion was made correctly.
The edges of the paper crinkled and smoked as he realized he'd been manipulated by a 13 year old Gryffindor boy rather than one of his own Slytherin girls. "How had Potter ensured the dorms were cleaned? Ah..."
Offer to have the dorms be tidy (Hermione complains constantly about her messy dorm mates). Ask Dobby to clean them.
Find a way to have Lupin be on stage. Write and secretly distribute the change in actors for the end of the play so duplicate actors won't be on stage. Have Madame Bones arrest Pettigrew.
Snape threw down the folder. Potter's schemes floated through his head as he marched up to Gryffindor Tower, growled the password and entered the lions' den. "Harrison James Potter!" Dozens of startled eyes flew in Snape's direction, one pair green. Snape gestured towards the door.
Potter rose to follow Snape. Ron placed a hand on his arm, "I don't think you should go, mate. He looks ready to rip you apart."
"I don't think ignoring him will make him any less angry." Then more quietly, "Speaking of which..."
"Potter! NOW!"
"Yes, sir. Coming."
The lions looked on in worry as the portrait shut behind the two dark haired wizards.
The moment they were alone Snape swirled the boy around and landed a resounding CRACK!
Harry yelped, rubbed his bum, then grinned. "Got away with a bit more than you realized, huh?"
"Do you know how much whining I've had to endure due to the snitched snitch? I won't be the only one to endure it either. You're spending your next detention listening to my memories of it."
Harry's grin widened even more.
"Never mind. I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of discovering the havoc you caused. I'll find an equally annoying sound to torture you with. Perhaps Death Day party music."
Harry winced at the memory of the screeching noise. "So, I'm going to be punished?"
"What do you think?"
Harry continued to follow Snape through hallways and down staircases.
"The purpose of the defense lessons you've been giving me were so I wouldn't be in danger when I ventured out on a plot. I kept in mind what you taught me when I went out and I took precautions so I was safe. Well, and Sirius was innocent and I had Petigrew locked up in a cage, so I wasn't really in danger in any case. You're a bit peeved right now that I pulled off some things you hadn't been aware of, but it has been your goal this year to teach me how to successfully lie, so it would be kind of counter intuitive for you to punish me for succeeding at what you taught me. So no, I don't think I'm on my way to the woodshed, as the saying goes. So where are we going?"
"We are going to have a meeting with a senile piece of fabric."
"Huh?"
"The sorting hat has obviously gotten too old to function properly. I'm done losing the House points you earn because a hat is too addled to perform its only task."
Harry's heart thudded in his chest. His ears heard the rush of water on a beach. For the briefest moment, his eyes clouded. Then his lungs sucked in the needed oxygen. "You want me?" Harry's feet were frozen to the floor. No one had ever wanted him.
"Yes. Now get moving. You dawdle much longer and the Headmaster's office will be sealed for the night." Then Snape muttered, "Centuries of placing students and now it decides to stick a viper in with the lions' den! Why?"
Harry's feet were still glued to the ground, "I refused to go."
Snape turned, "What?"
"The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but Malfoy had been such a git on the train. I didn't want to get stuck living with another Dudley so I begged the hat to choose somewhere else."
"Malfoy? You're in Gryffindor due to Malfoy?"
Harry just shrugged.
Snape's eyes closed in frustration. Sometimes he wanted to strangle his godson. The boy was too self absorbed.
"So even in the unlikely event that Dumbledore would allow a resorting you wouldn't be inclined to move."
"I'm happy where I am."
"An adder in a savanna?"
"An asp coiled lazily in the grass, waiting for the right moment to strike. People will always look for unexpected danger from a snake's den. They only look for the obvious danger from a lion's. Plots and plans are more likely to succeed where I am."
"In that case, you have a detention for going to Hogsmeade without a permission form. Expect to be tortured with sounds and smells. Noon on Saturday."
"Yes sir."
An hour earlier...
Harry snuck into Snape's office. He took his goal folder out of his pocket and returned it to its normal size, then he sat it on Snape's desk for him to find. As he headed to the door a thought occurred to him. What better way to mess with Snape's brain than to add just one little line. Harry picked up a quill and wrote...
December
Tell a lie...