Friday dawned, and Harry was surprised at breakfast by Hedwig bringing him a letter. He immediately recognised the scratchy handwriting on the envelope - it was Hagrid's. Harry guiltily realised he hadn't given Hagrid a second thought up until now. The letter introduced Hagrid as a friend of Harry's parents, and extended an invitiation for tea that afternoon. He wrote out a quick reply on a fresh bit of parchment while people fawned and fussed over Hedwig, then sent her off again with the letter tied around one of her legs.
"Anything interesting?" asked Blaise.
"Hagrid, the keeper of the grounds, asked me around for tea later today," said Harry quietly, trying not to get overheard. "He wrote he used to know my parents and he'd like to tell me about them."
To his left, Draco snorted. "You're not seriously going to have tea with one of the servants?" he said with a sneer.
"Yes, Lord Potter, you wouldn't want to get their icky servant-germs on your nice clean boots," added Theo, sounding as bored as ever. Draco rolled his eyes at him.
"I'd like to hear about my parents from someone who actually met them," said Harry defensively. "It's not like I'm asking you to come along or anything."
"Merlin forbid," said Draco, while next to him Theo flung his hand dramatically to his forehead.
"Lord Potter, I am wounded! Why would you not relish the feeling of your friends fitting snugly in your backside at all times?"
After breakfast they trudged down the dungeons towards the Potions classroom. Harry's hands were clammy with nerves, and he kept wiping them on his robes as they chose their seats and got out their quills and parchment. Blaise slunk into the seat next to him while Draco argued with Crabbe and Goyle, who wanted him to sit with one of them. He ended up partnering with Theo instead, his cronies looking sullen at the prospect of having to partner with each other.
Harry froze when Snape came striding into the classroom, sitting up straight as the Potions Master took his seat and started taking the roll call. To Harry's surprise, Snape didn't pause or express any sort of interest at all when his name came up. He sat up a bit straighter, hopeful that this was a good sign, and Snape wouldn't start to single him out during classes anymore. Snape finished the roll call with his little speech, like he had last time. Harry amused himself by picturing Snape practising it in front of a mirror, trying out the most menacing look, and jumped when he suddenly heard his name called out.
"Mr. Potter!" said Snape, piercing him with his stare. "What is one of the uses of essence of Murtlap?"
Not this again! Harry frantically rummaged through his memories. Murtlap essence, Murtlap essence... it sounded familiar...
"It can be used to treat wounds like cuts, sir," said Harry, relief flooding through him as he remembered Hermione presenting him with a jar of the stuff to treat his hand after one of Umbridge's detentions.
"It can indeed, Mr. Potter. However, this is a Potions class, not your aunt's Home Economics," said Snape, the corners of his mouth curling slightly. Harry could hear Theodore suppressing a snigger. "A more relevant answer would have been that it is used as an ingredient in potions used to relieve pain." Snape continued silkily. "Mr. Zabini, where should I look if I were to find a bezoar?"
"A goat's stomach, sir," said Blaise, while Harry gave a mental sigh of relief. That hadn't been too bad at all. Snape had sort of made fun of him, but he'd skipped the whole celebrity thing altogether and had actually acknowledged that Harry's answer had been correct, if not what he'd been looking for.
"Mr. Dursley, once I've found a bezoar, what could I use it for?" said Snape, and Harry turned in his seat to watch his cousin, who was blinking stupidly at Snape.
"Uhh, I dunno," said Dudley, and Snape's nostrils flared.
"I don't know, sir," he said icily, crisply enunciating every word. "Do try to sound at least like you're part of an intelligent species, Mr. Dursley."
This got a couple of laughs from the Slytherins. Harry watched Pansy Parkinson doing an impression of a slack-jawed Dudley for Tracy Davis, who was trying to suppress her giggles. At the table in front of him, Draco was looking at Dudley with an expression of undisguised glee, clearly eager for more Gryffindor-bashing.
"Mr. Weasley, care to help out your uncouth friend?"
Ron's ears turned bright pink as Snape's attention turned towards him, fidgeting with his quill.
"I don't know, sir."
"Well, at least you can form a proper sentence. I suppose that's about all I can expect of you dimwits. Didn't think we'd need to open a book over the holidays, Weasley? For your information, a bezoar is used as an antidote to most poisons. I'd keep that in mind if I were you, as I'm sure one will come in handy sooner or later with that partner of yours."
Snape sneered, the Slytherins minus Harry chuckled, and the Gryffindors scowled at the Potions Master when he turned to wave a wand at the blackboard, the instructions for their first potion appearing on it in chalk. Harry watched as Ron and Dudley whispered over their cauldron, and another pang of jealousy hit him. It should have been him complaining with Ron over what a black-hearted jerk Snape was, not Dudley. He looked up when Blaise nudged him in the side with his elbow, and gloomily set to weighing out the dried nettles for their potion.
Snape swept through the classroom, occasionally stopping at a cauldron to make an acid remark about the quality of the potion. He criticised everyone except Malfoy, who was praised for his steady hand and exact measuring. When he passed Harry and Blaise's cauldron, he looked at its contents and didn't say anything, which Harry took as a compliment.
Harry was concentrating on crushing his snake fangs into a fine powder, while Blaise stirred the potion clockwise, when Snape suddenly barked: "You idiots!"
Harry jumped, almost crushing his fingers instead of the snake fangs, but thankfully Snape's wrath wasn't directed towards him. He was standing over Dean and Seamus' cauldron, taking it off the burner and vanishing it's contents.
"Can you not read?" snarled Snape, slamming the cauldron back on the table. Dean and Seamus leaned back in their seats as far as they could, looking terrified. "It says very clearly on the blackboard that you need only the juice of the poppy pods, not to chuck them in whole! We're trying to make potions here, not poisons!"
Snape whirled around, addressing the rest of the classroom. "If you want to have any hope of getting a passing grade in this subject, you will drill it into your heads that in order to brew a proper portion you will need precision and attention. I know you probably feel like I'm asking too much of you by telling you to follow simple instructions clearly lined out on a blackboard, but unless you want your potion to actually melt your cauldron Miss Parkinson I suggest you take it off the fire before you add the porcupine quills!"
Pansy Parkinson snatched her cauldron off the burner with a terrified squeal, narrowly missing Tracy Davis with a gulp of the unfinished potion, which had sloshed out of the cauldron from the sudden movement. Snape strode over to their table to continue his rant, while the rest of the classroom worked on in terrified silence.
"He seems like a cheerful chap," Harry heard Theo whisper to Draco.
"He's right," whispered Draco back. "You can't just make a potion like you're making soup, everything has to be exact or you get all sorts of dangerous unintended effects."
"Like you'd know how to make soup," snorted Theo, but he did follow Draco's instructions more closely as they continued brewing their potion.
Harry frowned. If making potions was such an exact science, how come that Snape's alterations in his old Potions book hadn't made his cauldron blow up? There had to be some sort of underlying logic, some stretch in what you could or couldn't do. If only he could get his hands on the Halfblood Prince's book again... He wondered if it was just sitting in the same cupboard right now. He'd be sure to earn some of Snape's respect if he did really well at Potions from the start. Maybe he could sneak in here with the Cloak and - it took Harry a second to realise that the Invisibility Cloak wasn't actually in his possession yet. He sighed, and went back to brewing the potion, checking and double checking the instructions on the blackboard.
When class finished, Harry went up to Snape's desk with Blaise to hand in their potion. He was sure they'd done very well, his head was actually aching from concentrating so hard on not making even the smallest mistake, even with such a simple potion. He didn't want to take any risks. Snape accepted their potion with a grunt, putting it with the rest of the potions for later grading.
Harry was about to turn back to the table to start clearing up, when Snape said: "A word after class, Mr. Potter. Wait in the hallway for me."
"Yes sir," he replied as his stomach sank, and went to clear the table and pack his bag.
"What does he want with you?" said Blaise curiously as he gathered up the leftover ingredients.
"Dunno." said Harry, shrugging. What did Snape want with him, though? He didn't think he'd done anything wrong today. His answer at the start of class hadn't been great, but that couldn't be enough for Snape to have a go at him, could it?
He waited in the hallway with trepidation, urging the other Slytherins to go on without him. The last thing he wanted was to have them around while Snape shouted at him. It took some convincing to make them leave him behind, but Harry was finally left alone for the first time in a week. He let out a sigh of relief, and half wanted to sprint off and find Hermione and Ron in his new-found freedom. Snape finally exited the classroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it with a heavy iron key.
"Mr. Potter," said Snape softly, "our new celebrity."
Harry remained silent, wondering if he was going to get the same speech, but this time in private.
"I do hope you do not have any illusions about your instant popularity in House Slytherin," continued Snape, folding his arms. "If you were to be operating under the misunderstanding that everyone adores you because you are simply that wonderful, allow me to burst that bubble for you. You are not that likeable. The Slytherins. Do not. Like you."
Harry simply stared at Snape, perplexed. Was this some strange attempt to make him feel bad? He'd be over the moon if the Slytherins would leave him alone for five minutes, so he had some time for himself.
"Slytherin is the house of ambition, Mr. Potter. You are not seen as a potential new friend, but as a potentially valuable asset. Everyone wants to get on your side because it's profitable. Everyone wants to be in the good books of The Boy Who Lived."
"But... why?" said Harry. What Snape was saying did explain the unexpectedly warm reception he'd had from the Slytherins, but why would a bunch of Junior Death Eaters care what he thought about them?
"Some of them think it'll do their families good to have some positive association with the winning side. Some of them think it'll help their future careers if they can drop your name. Some of them will be banking on being able to ask favours of you once you get older and more powerful." Snape snorted, obviously incredulous that anyone would think Harry would have any sort of power in the future. "Some just want to be able to say they're friends with the Boy Wonder because it'll give them a little status."
"It's not like I enjoy everyone trying to get a piece of me! How do I get them to stop following me around?" said Harry, exasperated. Snape rose his eyebrows, and Harry got the impression that he was mocking him.
"I suppose whining at them like that could do the trick, Mr. Potter, but I suggest you figure out a less irritating solution. Perhaps you could even... ask them?"
Snape set off with a whirl of his black cloak, leaving Harry behind in the hallway, speechless. Had Snape just actually tried to help him, or was he reading the situation wrong? He supposed it could have just been an attempt from Snape to put him down, but he didn't think the man would have missed the opportunity to do so in front of his Potions class, if that was the case. Harry set off towards the Great Hall for lunch in a contemplative mood. Getting rid of his Slytherin fanclub - Harry shuddered at the idea - was one of his priorities. He didn't want his House to cut him off from the rest of the school. There was no way he was going to get through his seven years at Hogwarts with only Slytherins as his friends - or pretending to be his friends, as Snape had suggested.
Harry left the castle around three in the afternoon, and set out towards Hagrid's cabin, crossing the grounds at a brisk pace. The air was crisp and slightly chilly, very unlike the weather they'd had down south in Surrey, where summer still lingered. Harry stepped over the huge boots and crossbow that were laying around in front of the cabin - why on earth did Hagrid leave that thing outside where anyone could get at it? - and knocked on the door. He was greeted by Fang's booming barks, and smiled as he heard Hagrid make his way to the door, trying to calm Fang down.
"Harry!" said Hagrid, popping his head outside as he opened the door a crack. "Glad ye could come! Hol' on a minute - back, Fang!"
Harry slipped inside the cabin as Hagrid held the enormous boarhound back, taking in the sights of the single room. It was just like he remembered: hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling together with bunches of drying herbs, Hagrid's massive bed in the corner, the roughly hewn scrubbed wooden table in the middle of the room strewn with the debris of one of Hagrid's projects.
"Make yerself at home," said Hagrid, busying himself with the tea. Harry happily scratched Fang's ears and took a seat at the table.
"Thanks for the invitation. I like your house," said Harry, and accepted a cup of tea and a rock cake from Hagrid, who was beaming at him.
"It ain't much, but it's home," said the half-giant, settling himself down in one of the chairs. "Got it fer bein' Keeper o' the Keys an' Grounds. I make sure all's well within Hogwarts boundaries, take care o' the critters that roam around in the forest, that sort o' thing. Dumbledore appointed me after - well, never mind. Great man, Dumbledore. How are ye likin' Hogwarts so far, then?"
Harry told Hagrid all about his first week, dunking the rock cake in his tea to soften it up before nibbling on it.
"Everyone keeps telling me how surprised they are I didn't end up in Gryffindor like my parents, though," said Harry, sipping his tea. "People don't seem to like the Slytherins much."
"We-ell... not ter say anythin' against yer House, mind ye, but the Slytherin attitude can be a bit... unhealthy," said Hagrid, giving Harry a worried sort of look. "Ye'd do well to make some friends in the other Houses as well. Don' shut yerself up like the rest o' the Slytherins. One reason nobody likes 'em is they never make the effort to talk ter anybody else, see?"
Harry nodded vigorously, and went back to telling Hagrid about his lessons. When they came to his first Potions class, he mentioned Snape's rant and the terrified reaction of the students. To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled.
"He's not one ye want ter make angry, is Professor Snape. Good man though, he helps me out wi' the creatures in the Forbidden Forest from time to time. I get him most of his ingredient, see. Has he - err, has he been allrigh' wi' ye?"
Harry peered at Hagrid curiously. He'd never known Snape and Hagrid got on fairly well. They'd always been professional to each other when he'd seen them meet, but not exactly friendly. He tried to picture the Potions Master having a pint of mead with Hagrid, but the idea was just too strange.
"Pretty much the same as with everyone, I guess," he said, and Hagrid seemed relieved. "You said you knew my parents though, I'd love to hear a bit more about them. My aunt and uncle never really told me anything."
Hagrid didn't need much encouraging to start reminiscing about Lily and James Potter, entertaining Harry with stories of their time at Hogwarts. Harry steadily worked his way through his rock cake as Hagrid brought up memory after memory of his parents, many he hadn't heard before. He felt happy and at ease for the first time that week, away from the Slytherins and sitting in Hagrid's cosy hut, while Fang steadily covered his robes in drool.
"Ah, they were a good lot, yer parents and their friends," said Hagrid, after a particularly funny story about one of the Marauders' pranks. "The times they've been in here, James, Remus, Peter and Sirius... Used ter have a flyin' motorcycle, Sirius Black did, and I remember this one time he..."
"Sirius Black?" said Harry, interrupting Hagrid. "One of the goblins at Gringotts said he was supposed to be my godfather, but he ended up in prison. What happened?"
Hagrid's face fell, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Ah, nasty business, that was... not sure I should be the one ter tell ye..."
"Oh come on Hagrid, you're the only one I know that actually knows anything about my family!" pleaded Harry, and he kept wheedling until Hagrid gave in and told him about the Fidelius charm and Sirius' betrayal.
"So he was their best friend, and then suddenly he sells them out to Voldemort?" said Harry, after Hagrid had finished. "That just doesn't make any sense. Why would he do that? You said that Sirius always hated how his family bought into the whole Pureblood thing, he even got kicked out of the house for it. Why would he suddenly start supporting Voldemort?"
"Stop sayin' the name, will ye?" said Hagrid, wincing. "You Know Who had a lot o' ways to get people to do his biddin'. He bribed 'em, or threatened 'em, or put 'em under the Imperius Curse..."
"But you said that people now think that Black was Voldemort's greatest supporter, while he never did anything but fight him before my parents got killed," said Harry.
"Well, they say Sirius Black used ter be a spy for Voldemort all along," said Hagrid. "But I really don' think that ye should be..."
"All the way since he was at Hogwarts and made friends with my parents? That's ridiculous. You don't believe that, do you? You were just telling me what a good guy he was!"
"I... well... Shouldn't ye be goin' back ter the castle by now? Dinner'll be soon," said Hagrid, obviously eager to stop the conversation and get Harry out of his cabin. He loaded Harry's pockets with rock cakes, ignoring his protests, and then gently yet firmly ushered him out of the door.
Harry walked back to the castle, torn between feeling bad for having upset Hagrid, and elated that he'd gathered information about Sirius that didn't immediately put him in a bad light. It was a better start towards pushing for a retrial than he could have hoped for. What with Dumbledore now officially being his guardian ever since the Dursleys had kicked him out, his resolve to get Sirius out of Azkaban had taken on a new sense of urgency. He could stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, but once the year ended, he'd be completely under Dumbledore's custody if the Dursleys didn't take up guardianship again - which he doubted they would.
Time to get in touch with Moony, then.