Hey hey again!
This is later than I usually write up, and with the vacations ebbing (seeing as the story just became double the size I was going for) I feel I need to warn you that maybe sometimes I won't have the sheer time to just type up the day's update. It will simply mean that it will be there the next day.
That said, onwards! Chapter 11.
***
After that decidedly odd second encounter with Potter, Rasmus felt he needed to go somewhere where the weirdness would ease up until the evening, and away from everyone that would want to have any sort of 'talk' with him. Therefore he nearly ran to the Slytherin dorms.
They were still empty of students, but he could hear shuffling of some early arrivals in dorms other than his. He sighed, running his hands through his hair and approached his bed. The black and silver tabby was sleeping there, curled up on his pillow. He rolled his eyes.
"Betty!" he scolded in greek as he picked the kitten up, and sat over the covers and against the wall, one of his long legs dangling off the edge. "How many times must I say not on my pillow?"
Betty didn't seem at all phased and simply purred with a distinct cat-grin. Rasmus half smiled.
"You will go right back to the pillow once I let you down, won't you?"
The kitten just let her head sink back to expose the throat fully to be scratched, which Rasmus promptly did.
"You trust so much, and so easily. How do you expose your softest part without any fear? How aren't you afraid that the hand in which you're lying won't crush you?" he murmured thoughtfully. "I wish I had it as simple as you, Betty."
A house elf appeared with a crack at that point, scaring Betty in his sleeve.
"For you, Mr. Snape. I's bring it."
"Thank you," Rasmus said as he took the letter the elf was brandishing. It read Rasmus O. Snape outside. Rasmus unfolded it.
Mr. Snape,
While my demand for the extra assignment has not yet been met, I feel I have witnessed enough to admit you, on probation, in my advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I expect your assignment to be ready for the first practical of the term.
Signed,
Professor Guiren Bai
Rasmus wanted to feel good about this, but somehow he felt apprehensive, cautious. Bai made no effort to hide his dislike of him, and Rasmus had in all actuality not expected to be admitted in the advanced class. Why had the man done it when he had excellent excuse not to?
He chewed on the inside of his lip thoughtfully, watching Betty drop down from his sleeve and make her way to his pillow again. And I still have no clue what Antahiga is.
***
McGonagall was getting ready for the welcoming feast- Flitwick to receive the first years. The train would be there in less than an hour. This was one of those feasts- imbued in tension of some sort, as heralds of uncertain years. That had not been the case between wars and in the past two years. Minerva sighed, inspecting herself in the mirror. She was wearing dark green with only token tartan frills at the collar and her sleeves, and pinned a silver and golden brooch right under her throat. She breathed in. This was the most austere she could make it, and the stern black witch hat would have to be sufficient for looming effect.
"Most excellent, Minerva!" Albus said cheerily as she entered her office to take what she needed. I need some more courage. "Green really becomes you."
"For a Gryffindor," Severus smirked.
"Oh, shut it," Minerva said crisply. "You are so amused already it's positively obscene."
There was the telltale grounding of the gargoyle below and McGonagall took her place behind her desk just in time for Nikos to walk in. He was smiling, as always, and there was no trace of his scrape with brain damage only a couple of days ago.
"Good evening, Headmistress," he said, and raised up a letter. "I was rather surprised to get this note from you now. Aren't you busy with the first day hubbub?"
"I was, up to now, but half an hour before everything starts, it pretty much is calm- like the calm before the storm. Please, take a seat for a moment, Mr. Galanos."
Nikos complied. Minerva forced herself to do the same and didn't feel like offering him tea just yet.
"Mr. Galanos, I want to discuss something with you- make you an offer, if you like, that you can think about for this week."
"An offer?"
"Yes. I want to offer you a chance to practice your Arithmancy here in Hogwarts. You will find our library to be more than sufficient compared to the ones in London."
Nikos' eyebrows raised.
"I see. I am much obliged, Headmistress, but can I ask what you want of me in return?"
The abrupt, cut-to-the-chase approach of the man took Minerva aback for a second. Usually people were not so forward. Nikos smiled again.
"I'm sorry; I'm one for clear deals. Where I come from, we say that good understandings made friendships last; and I want to befriend you."
McGonagall felt stiffer. Rarely did people hold her glance steadily, too. In fact, nearly nobody did with such earnest. It made her uneasy to see this wizard be so at ease doing it.
"Oh, I see," she raced to say. "Then, I will be forthcoming as well. Primarily, I understand you are Rasmus' godfather and he appears quite attached to you; should your Arithmancy prove …dangerous to you again, I would like to feel we will be quick to save you."
Nikos nodded thoughtfully.
"And you also want to keep an eye on me."
"That too," Minerva said boldly. Nikos seemed to grin in satisfaction only then.
"I think we can definitely come to an understanding, Headmistress. Thank you. Shall we discuss the details tomorrow?"
"9 o' clock," Minerva nodded and got up along with him. Nikos winced a little, but agreed, bowed, and left the office. Minerva stared after him.
"He's dangerous."
She blinked and flinched, then glanced at Snape's portrait. "Hm?"
"Galanos. If you're not careful, he'll smooth-talk you into being a test-subject for jinxes, and you'll be convinced you volunteered," the potions master smirked. "You've been warned."
"Sounds like you speak from experience, Severus," Minerva cut back and rushed out of the office, feeling mysteriously ill at ease.
***
Reading always relaxed him, and this new novel from the stock he had bought from muggle bookstores in Athens and London was engrossing. Rasmus loved a good whodunit, and this one was still unpredictable. Betty on his lap, book in his hand, Rasmus managed to push away the encounter with Potter, Bai's admission and the ever-approaching hoard of students that had already met him through a vile libelous piece of excrement that passed for journalism until a trunk thudded heavily next to his own bed. He looked up.
Another boy was looking at him oddly. He was red haired and blue eyed, tilting his head like a human owl.
"You're Snape, ne?" he said.
"And you are?" Rasmus shut the book slowly. Betty didn't even wake up.
"I'm Ryan Finn- fifth year, like you," he said. "There's a piece for ye in the paper, y'know."
"Don't." Rasmus' voice was low-key but warning. Finn grinned and shrugged.
"Who believes that drivel anyway? But ye are Snape's son, eh?"
"Yes. I'm Rasmus." He watched the red head closely. He seemed to be eager to make a good impression and Rasmus wondered what for.
"Good to meet ye," he said.
He lingered a little, but then he turned his back to Rasmus and started fixing his bed.
"That bed there, you're sitting on, it belongs to Baldric Hodd; he always takes the bed in the corner," he said as he was pulling out things from his trunk.
"Well, it's mine now," Rasmus said firmly. "And if he needs to be convinced, then I'll oblige."
Finn grinned again as he sat on the bed.
"That would be great! Hodd is an astounding arse, and after Snape stopped being Head, there isn't anyone to stop him, ya know?"
"Hm," Rasmus eyed the rest of the boys entering warily, and they glanced at him back without approaching him.
***
The welcoming feast began in splendor. These years there were more young students than older or senior ones; the war had culled so many, hurt so many, driven away so many that the higher classes were populated by only a few dozens of students in each senior year. There would be a few years yet until the youngsters grew and Hogwarts became properly populated again.
But this year enjoyed an enthusiastic start, because the Golden Trio was back for their graduating year. They were sitting at the Gryffindor table now, with adequate empty space for the new first years after they sorted, much more quiet than their previous raucous selves, although that was not the case for the second and third year Gryffindors. Harry raised his glass at her, and she nodded back.
Her eyes then flitted to the Slytherin table- it was the one with the fewest students above fourteen years of age, though last year it had received a good number of new students. This year, everyone was staring or at least stealing glances towards the table, and Slytherin students themselves were extremely quiet- except, again, the second years. Rasmus was sitting with Finn, who was talking without requiring much participation from Snape's son. Seeing how he was at a little distance from the rest of the students, how his expression was closed and his eyes extremely alert and taking in everything- to the point McGonagall was certain the boy had noted all the potential exits in case of need- Minerva remembered with a pang, how she had seen Severus sit there, like that, alone with his thoughts when he was that age. The only difference was that Finn was talking Rasmus' ear off, and that Rasmus was not trying to shut him up.
She snapped to attention again as the Sorting began, and quickly about two hundred students were sorted into their Houses. It was time for her opening speech. She got up and approached the podium.
"Another year begins, and I welcome you all to Hogwarts," she began primly and rather laconically. She hated giving speeches with little purpose than just giving the speech. "As every year, let us raise our glasses to all those who fell so that we, and especially you, the students, can enjoy free learning and protection from the Dark Arts," she went on, raising her own goblet that was still in her hand. Flitwick read the list of all the Second War victims, and for each one, the students repeated it while raising their goblets. It was a tradition that she had began, mainly as a way to ensure that everyone who was not as celebrated as they should be for the heroism in the war, would be in the minds of the new generation, that would go on to live.
"This year, we welcome Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley back for their finishing year; let them be examples to you on the importance of learning."
She waited for the gushing applause and the wild cheering that naturally ensued and held for a good three seconds. Then she called for attention again.
"And finally, we welcome the son of one of the most important heroes of the war, the one man who walked his path alone and gave the hardest fight so that we could live. We welcome Severus Snape's son, Rasmus Octavian Snape, to Hogwarts. Feel privileged that he is among us, for he is not only the son of Severus Snape, but also Aello Berenike Galanou, one of the most brilliant potion mistresses of our time who discovered some of the potions that saved countless lives during war and peace. Make him feel that Hogwarts is as much a home to him, as it is to you."
There was a lingering note of pause in the Great Hall, and Rasmus felt so embarrassed he nearly cast a disillusionment spell on himself. Was that sort of thing going to help him in this school?
Then someone applauded, and quickly the applause- polite, a little cramped- spread across the tables.
"Bet you can brew love potions," Finn nudged him as the clapping died down and Slytherin classmates looked at him even more now.
"I'd sooner brew Stink-Bomb Potion," Rasmus growled with too much ire for what was said. But Finn was not phased at all. Instead he piped up to some more Slytherins:
"Hey! Snape here says he knows how to make Stink-Bombs!"
And as if that was the perfect ice-breaker, more than just Finn began talking to him.
***
And that's that! It's extremely late here and I don't have the time to read it over (again). Next time we move on with the bad guys and classes!
Also: THANK YOU for all those reviews! Keep them coming :)
Duj: so true! I think he won't feel he's in a position to bully Snape now, either, unless he admits to being a willing git.
Sindie: I don't intend to, and thanks for reading!
RebeccaRoy:Hey, you called him with his pet name! Only Nikos calls him that. Hee hee!
Very Small Prophet: Yes, I agree on the issue of big hearted Slytherins. But Minerva would definitely want to claim Severus as hers now. As for Severus making love to another woman- possibly he could, but he doesn't seem to have been interested in something like that. At least that was my impression.
And that's that! Till tomorrow!