1991, 1st year
On Halloween, Harry woke with an odd feeling in his gut that wouldn't leave him for the rest of the day. It didn't help that this was the day his parents had been murdered by some Dark Lord for reasons Severus kept avoiding telling Harry at all costs. It also didn't help that Rhea turned up early to breakfast – for her standards – just to tell them that the cards had told her to expect signs of a greater evil at work today.
"What does she mean by that?" Harry asked. "That 'the cards told her'."
"Tarot cards, if I were to take a guess," Blaise replied. "I've never seen her do it, but I have observed her take out a pendulum once. I don't think I even want to know what she was using it for."
"Right …"
True to Rhea's words – and Harry's gut feeling – something did indeed happen. During the Halloween Feast – which was … impressively decorated, to say the least, even if quite a few students didn't seem to appreciate the decorations at all – Professor Quirrel suddenly burst through the double doors and announced that there was a Troll in the dungeons.
"Prefects," Headmaster Dumbledore rumbled after silencing the ensuing chaos with a few explosions from his wand, "lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
"Wouldn't it be safer to stay here?" some older Slytherin asked.
"Didn't Quirrel say the Troll was in the dungeons?" another exclaimed. "Our dormitories are in the dungeons!"
"As if Dumbledore has ever cared about our safety," a third one scoffed.
"I have asked Professor Vector to accompany you while I look into the situation," came Severus' voice and Harry turned to watch him approach with a stern-looking witch in red robes at his side. "And Professor Sprout will follow after safely escorting the Hufflepuffs. Stay together and keep your wands ready."
Nothing happened on their way through the dungeons, but they all stayed on high alert and only allowed themselves to relax once they had reached the safety of the Slytherin Common Room, where they waited anxiously for news from their Head of House.
At one point, the food from the feast was delivered to their common room, but that did nothing to alleviate the unrest everyone was feeling.
Severus returned after several long hours, telling them that the Troll had been apprehended on the ground floor. A girl had been injured, having been to the restroom and missed the commotion, but she would recover just fine. The question of where the Troll had come from and how it had entered the castle in the first place was still under investigation.
"I take it to mean we won't be able to celebrate Samhain outside this year?" a prefect asked.
"I'm afraid not," Severus said. "The Headmaster won't allow such a, ah, 'risk to the students' safety'."
No one said a word, but Harry could see the clear displeasure on their faces and almost hear the unspoken 'as if the headmaster ever cared about our safety'.
Having celebrated Mabon, the autumn equinox, with his housemates just over a month ago, Harry had actually been looking forward to what rituals Samhain would entail.
"You may conduct what rituals you can within the common room," Severus said. "As long as you do not set anything on fire."
"Thank you, sir."
Severus gave them a curt nod and then left. Harry watched him go, part of him wishing he would stay.
"Right," a prefect said. "Lémure?"
Rhea, who had been one of the few seemingly unaffected by it all, lounging on an armchair with a book in her lap, tipped her head backwards over the armrest it was resting on to look at them upside down. "You want me to officiate?"
"Who better suited than a Necromancer?"
The grin that spread across Rhea's face was suitably frightening for the occasion, but not reassuring for whatever was to come.
Harry didn't know what he had expected, but it wasn't for the Slytherins to hand out candles Harry hadn't seen anyone acquiring. The furniture was pushed to the walls with only a round table remaining in the middle on which Rhea placed a single, black candle.
All the lights of the common room were extinguished, casting it into absolute darkness.
"On this night of all nights," Rhea said in an uncharacteristically reverent tone, "when the veil between the worlds is thinnest, we call out to those who have gone before us. We have gathered here to honour the spirits of our ancestors, to honour our beloved ones, who watch over us always, protect us and guide us."
The candle on the table ignited with a small, blue flame and Harry could see Rhea's unsettling white eyes reflecting the light.
"We call upon you and invite you to join us, departed ancestors, so we may honour your memory."
Rhea was the first to light her own candle with the flame of the black one and then one by one the others followed suit, slowly forming small circles of seven scattered around the room.
"Close your eyes," Daphne whispered to Harry, "and think of your family."
o
"I didn't know that was possible," Harry said awestruck, staring at the burned-down candle in his hands.
"And people say the Halloween Feast is the best part," Pansy said sardonically.
"Some consider this to be Dark Arts," Daphne said.
"So what?"
"And, ultimately, it is a very private thing to talk to your deceased family members."
"Pah! It still holds more meaning than a feast full of carved pumpkins and living bats could ever hope to hold a candle to."
"Agreed," Rhea remarked.
"What says you, resident Necromancer?" Blaise asked. "Is that particular Samhain ritual Dark Magic?"
Rhea gave him a blank look. "It's magic. If I told you it was a form of Necromancy, would you blanch in horror and grow afraid of ever doing it again?"
"Better not to tell the mudbloods and muggle-lovers that," Draco said.
"Do you mind?" Harry snarled.
"What's your problem?"
"His mother was muggle-born and as I understand it, children dislike hearing their parents being insulted," Rhea replied in Harry's stead. "What? I saw her talk to him."
Daphne turned to her, aghast. "You can see who we're conversing with?"
"Yeah? Obviously? It's kind of my entire thing, you know?"
"But that's private!"
"It's not like I'm listening in. Though it makes talking to my own ancestors a bit hard. Can you even imagine what kind of valuable knowledge the oldest hold? It's fascinating."
"Don't you have any recently departed you wish to converse with?"
"What recent ones? They're almost all still around up to …" Rhea scrunched up her nose in thought, "… seven generations in the house and several more in the forest. Either way, recently departed are rarely interesting."
Harry watched Daphne's expression falter for a brief moment. "That … is not what I meant."
Rhea tilted her head. "What did you mean, then?"
As Daphne tried what seemed to be an attempt at explaining grief and closure in differently phrased ways to Rhea's obvious incomprehension, Harry closed his eyes and simply let their voices wash over him, ignoring the discussion Draco was having with Tracey over what did and did not count as a 'distasteful insult' while some of the others had begun talking about homework of all things.
Harry needed a moment for himself, yet at the same time didn't want to be alone. None of his housemates attempted to talk to him for the rest of the evening, simply letting him be as they conversed among themselves or joined some of the older students in their smaller rituals. It was soothing, in a way. Harry found he didn't mind the presence of so many people all that much. For now.
He went to bed feeling better than he had immediately after talking to – Well. He went to bed feeling better and having Hedwig curled up next to him on his pillow, purring softly as his mind drifted off to sleep made the rest of the unease leave his heart.
The next morning, rumours about the girl being hurt by the troll quickly made their rounds. Stories differed wildly between retellings, but according to Pansy – who Harry had learned was one of the most reliable sources of gossip in their entire house (he didn't understand how) – the girl in question was a Gryffindor first-year and had, just as Severus had told them, been in the bathroom at the time of the announcement, missing the – as everyone agreed nonsensical – evacuation. She had apparently been crying.
Harry was just glad no one had died and that the day itself was free of any more nasty incidents – no one melted their cauldron during potions, even if the Gryffindors kept sending them narrow-eyed glares for some reason – and Harry was happy to retire to the library with Daphne and Blaise to get started on their homework. Harry only realised several hours later that Theodore had also joined them, having completely failed to notice the quiet boy following them and sitting down at the table right next to them. This happened more often than Harry would like to admit, because unlike Daphne and Blaise, Theodore worked entirely in silence, not once joining their discussions of the material they were required to cover.
On Saturday, as was usual, most of the other first-year Slytherins joined them in the library to do their own homework – or read books for their own entertainment in the cases of Harry and Blaise, who had already finished their homework – or for their own private studies if the book titles were anything to go by in the cases of Theodore and Daphne. If Harry had heard correctly, Millicent had written up some half-hearted essays the day before in favour of doing overly detailed work for their history assignment, Gregory had done the same for all assignments and was now reading … Harry honestly didn't know. Rhea was probably still asleep.
The Slytherins weren't the only first-years in the library that day – there were quite a lot of students in the library on Saturdays in general. A group of Ravenclaws was sitting right next to them in a similar mix of homework-doing and private studying – Sue and Oliver among them. Harry got the impression their version of reading for entertainment was somewhat different from his own.
Rhea finally joined them after lunch, if only to get herself another absurdly large pile of fiction novels Harry had never heard off. Then again, Severus didn't own many fiction novels and the titles Harry was familiar with were of the Muggle sort. To Harry's surprise, Gregory actually got into a small argument with her about hogging some titles he wanted to read, himself, which made Blaise outright laugh at their antics and add some more titles Harry wasn't familiar with to the pile, which in turn made Rhea's eyebrows rise and Harry suspect there was something out of the ordinary about the books Blaise read. He wasn't brave enough to ask or take a look for himself. (But Pansy was and her reaction only solidified Harry's suspicion.)
Either way, Harry always enjoyed the time spent in the library immensely. For one, obviously, because he liked reading. For another, the library meant quiet company. And he always learned a lot about his housemates by simply observing their habits of doing homework and how they chose to spend their free time.
Sunday wasn't much different, only their group decreased in size again with Draco dragging Vincent and Gregory off to somewhere – Harry never asked – and Pansy taking Millicent and Tracey to join her in her hunt for 'the most delicious gossip they could find'. (Pansy's most recent endeavour was to try and figure out how the Weasley twins managed to get away with most of their pranks without getting caught – how they managed to evade Pansy and all her informants at every turn, as if they somehow knew people were nearby and prepared for it.)
Sometimes, Sue and Oliver managed to join the Slytherins at their table without setting off any drama (Harry suspected the absence of Draco and Pansy played a big role there, because it always ended in drama when those two were present), which occasionally encouraged a group of Hufflepuffs to come over as well.
Harry didn't understand why they were all suddenly interested in mingling only on Sundays, but he couldn't say that he actually minded. He would have found it odd that no Gryffindors joined in, if there had been any in the library to begin with. The one that usually sat alone not far from them – Hermione Granger, if Harry remembered correctly – was conspicuously absent.
Weekends were simply nice like this. All that was missing was some time spent with Severus, maybe helping him grade homework, but Harry knew that such a sudden disappearance on his part would only draw unwanted attention.
He was still contemplating inconspicuous ways to spend time with Severus, when suddenly his foot caught on something and – he already knew this could only end badly. They were on the top of a staircase, the railing was too far away, he could see Blaise and Daphne trying to grab him, eyes wide, Rhea's gaze snapping over at their shouts from whatever she had been staring at –
o
Harry woke up in the Hospital Wing to Severus' worried voice. He turned his head in its direction and found Severus already looking at him.
"You're awake."
Harry gave him a weak smile. This had not been how he had imagined spending time with Severus.
"Do you remember what happened?"
Harry blinked. "I … fell down the stairs? I think I tripped?"
Severus frowned. "Tripped on what?"
"I don't know."
The frown deepened. "According to your friends, it looked like you suddenly tripped over nothing."
From what Severus told him, Harry was lucky Oliver had such good reflexes. And that he had been walking by at the bottom of the stairs in the first place. And that Professor Quirrel had been nearby to help.
"Could someone be targeting you?"
Harry blinked. "Why?"
Severus sighed. "Why? Because you are you, of course. Because being in Slytherin has not helped the general opinion about you."
"Oh. I – I did notice that."
"Make sure you're never alone. Make sure your friends know to look out for anything out of the ordinary. If anyone notices anything –"
"Severus." Harry belatedly realised he wasn't supposed to call him that at school. He glanced around and was relieved to find them alone. The matron must have excused herself at one point.
"It's alright," Harry continued in a softer tone. "Slytherins never go out alone, anyway." Except for Rhea, but that was beside the point. "They look out for each other."
Severus briefly closed his eyes. "I am well aware of that. But it never hurts to be cautious."
"I know."
"I can't have you dying under my watch," Severus gave him a pointed look, "when I just barely managed to keep you alive for the last two years."
Harry almost laughed at that. He was sure Severus could see his lips twitching traitorously.
Severus slowly raised his hand, telegraphing his intentions for Harry as he laid it to rest on his shoulder.
"No more visits to the Hospital Wing."
"I'll try my best." Harry ducked his head to hide his grin. "Going to be a bit hard in a school like this, though."
Severus only squeezed his shoulder in response.
AN
Is that – Severus being worried? Wonders never cease.
Harry doesn't know this, of course, having no frame of reference – but we'll address those festivals and how "old and traditional" they are (not) in a few chapters. Takes some time to come up, though.