"This isnae fair," Dirk complained after about twenty minutes of cauldron scrubbing.
Severus applied the final grade (Dreadful) of the current essay he was reviewing with an unnecessary flourish and fought not to roll his eyes. On the contrary, you made a bad life decision and are now reaping the expected consequences. It is the definition of fairness. He didn't voice his thoughts aloud. Instead, he asked neutrally, "What isn't fair?"
"All of it."
"I'm with you. He's so whiney," the disillusioned Sorting Hat complained quietly.
"You will have to be more specific," Severus said, ignoring the Hat's running commentary as usual.
Dirk threw his rag back into his bucket of cauldron cleaner and sat back on his heels with a surly frown. "Fer one thing, why eight detentions for something I did while on break?"
"I'm sure I told you to expect a detention for every class you missed while in the hospital wing."
"An' why was I there so long?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "What did you expect after imbibing multiple magical and mundane intoxicating substances to the point of losing consciousness?"
"Aren't ye a potions master? Ye could have got me out earlier if ye cared tae."
"I see you learned nothing from the soporific episode in November. Or did you think I allowed half my own seventh years to languish in the hospital wing for a week intentionally?" He probably would have, to be honest, but Poppy wouldn't. Severus made a mental note to put together a lecture on the nature of intoxicants for the seventh years. It wasn't part of the standard curriculum, but they were clearly misinformed. "Trust me, the only reason you earned your detentions is because of what you did."
"Whatever. I shouldn't have bin in Tallow and Hemp, I ken it. But I wouldn't have bin there if..."
"Yes?"
"If I'd have just gotten the interview I was supposed tae."
"You were supposed to get the interview, were you? How's that?" Severus asked idly.
Dirk glared at him and took a deep, affronted breath. "My grandfather -"
"Is dead."
"That's a little too blunt," supplied the Hat.
The teenager sneered. "You wouldn't ken, halfbreed."
"Oh, wouldn't I? You think those with mixed heritage are ignorant of pureblood privilege?"
"Some privilege! I'd have got the interview if..."
"If your grades were better? If your application letter reflected more nuance and willingness to work rather than an unearned expectation of preeminence?"
"Ouch! You're on fire this evening, Professor Snape!" the Hat chuckled in his ear.
"Sod off."
"The truth is, Mr. Prentiss, your application, which you may recall I personally reviewed at your insistence during our first detention together, was weak. The truth is, the other applications received, some from halfbloods or even muggleborns, were simply better. You are correct that that would not have mattered twenty or even ten years ago, when your family's connections could have gotten you the position, deserved or not. But your family's name is tarnished by the fact that your parents fought on the losing side of the war."
"You're one tae talk!"
Severus met his glare. "I am, yes. Unlike most who would advise you, I both know what I am talking about and am unafraid to be frank with you. Your mother went down with the ship. Your father, the fat drunk I had the displeasure of meeting this month, has squandered his freedom and done nothing to salvage your family's reputation."
"Ye can' talk aboot my father like that!"
"How would you describe him then?"
"He... he took it hard when Ma was locked up!"
"I'm sure he did. But that is no excuse for neglecting his duty to care for you, his only son. If he had imitated Lord Malfoy and publicly reformed himself, or Merlin if he had simply stayed off the drink and kept house a little, enough to notice you needed a parent to talk to, you might not be in this situation."
"Ye wan' him tae give up his honor!" Dirk's eyes were watering, Severus noticed. Fumes or fury, one of the two.
"I want him to be a responsible parent," Severus corrected. "Just as I want you to be a responsible student and eventually a successful young man. I cannot help your father, unfortunately, but you are within my purview."
Dirk huffed sulkily and resumed scrubbing his cauldron with a vengeance. "How are you going tae help? Going tae git me a job brewin' and dealin' fer Tallow and Hemp instead of buying?"
Severus smiled thinly. It was not surprising a boy like Dirk thought so little of him, even ignoring his muggle father. If not for the war, then by all rights one of Severus' class should have aimed no higher than a brewing job at an apothecary, illicitly or otherwise. If one dismissed Severus' professorship as an undeserved example of Albus Dumbledore's eccentricity, then Severus had so far only shown his ability to tear the privileged down and to leech above his natural station. It was another part of his own reputation he needed to correct. Somehow. "Hardly. A scut job in Knockturn is not my definition of 'successful,' nor should it be yours. Tell me, Mr. Prentiss, why did your parents champion the Dark Lord's cause? They were not there for the violence, I can tell you."
"Blood purity," Dirk grunted simply, as if that explained it all. Of course, it did really. The Prentisses were interested in preserving the hierarchy, nothing more.
"Now, tell me why the Dark Lord supported blood purity," Severus asked softly. Dirk looked up at him, clearly confused. Severus' smile widened. "It wasn't the same reason, or else I would not be having this conversation with you, would I? Son of a muggle as I am. No, the Dark Lord's philosophy was 'Magic is Might.' Any of sufficient magical talent willing to swear allegiance were welcome, no matter their birth or class. Purebloods were favored not arbitrarily but because of the promise of their heritage. It is well-known, after all, that certain talents run in families: parseltongue and metamorphagism for example.
"I tell you it is not hypocritical or dishonorable to expect your father to do something with his life other than mourn his own bad luck and decisions. Just the same, it is not beneath you, or him, or me, or anyone to work for what you want. If you tell me you still want a job at the Ministry, then put in the effort to get it! Study hard for your N.E.W.T.s. Go to networking events and meet people who can help you with your goals, even if they aren't pureblood. Hold your nose and take a job you don't want that will help build your resume. Hold your father accountable and get your house in order so it's not an embarrassment to receive a floo call there."
"Ah cannae take o'er the runnin' of th' hoose!" Dirk suddenly protested with wide eyes. "My Da will kill me!"
"If he's sober enough to notice."
"Stop bad-mouthing the lad's father," the Sorting Hat hissed.
He'd be better off learning not to respect his father, Severus thought back at it, recalling the man's unkempt and smelly bedroom in nauseating detail for the Hat's benefit. He had left the ancient artifact on Albus' desk before flitting all over the country looking for his errant student.
..."You may be right," it whispered.
"He gets mad, scary mad, when he's off the drink and has tae go oot tae buy more," Dirk explained.
"Then you either send him to St. Mungo's to dry out once and for all where they can deal with his outbursts, or you keep him happy in his disgusting room and learn well how to defend yourself if necessary. Then once you're in a solid independent financial situation, you move out without discussing it with him first. There is no problem that does not have a solution, if you're willing to take it, Mr. Prentiss. And I can help you with whichever avenue you choose." Severus knew all about committing parents to the hospital.
Dirk shook his head. "Ah cannae go against my fam'ly. Ah cannae. Ye dinnae ken. Ye're dad's a muggle."
"Was. Take it from a man whose parents are both dead: one day, you will be your family. Fortune willing, you will also be head of a family of your own. You can choose to inherit a legacy you find shameful, or you can make something better of your life and make your legacy your own. From where I'm sitting, you owe little or nothing to the man who couldn't be bothered to make sure you were safe and returning to school on time." He leaned forwards a little. "I promise you, if you work your way past your current circumstances, past future setbacks, past your delusional longing for what is in fact un-owed, past all that to become someone you are proud of... it is worth it. Even if you feel an imposter or a hypocrite at first, even if and when you succeed you have to force your father to see what you are worth; he would ultimately be proud, because success is what every parent wants for their child." He leaned back again. "Or you can continue to bemoan the cruelty of an uncaring world, use alcohol and drugs and potions to forget your problems, and allow your family name to drift on into ignominy."
"I thought a head o' hoose was supposed tae be encouraging," Dirk grumbled.
"If you want coddling, go to Madam Pomphrey. I am not trying to discourage you, Mr. Prentiss. Quite the opposite. I merely want you to reach your full potential, and I happen to disagree with the way you're going about it. You are not stupid, but you are lazy, and you are following the playbook that has been given to you by a father and a cousin whom you should not admire. I am aware you do not like hearing this, but the best thing I can do for you is to help you realize you do not have to follow in your father's footsteps. To put it bluntly, your father is a weak man and a neglectful parent. You should not tie yourself to him out of a misguided sense of familial loyalty. He does not deserve it. You need to accept and own that fact before you will be able to move on with your own life. Find someone else to look up to." He waited, watching the teen's angry tears threatening to fall. And yet Dirk remained silent, neither accepting nor arguing with Severus' assessment. He continued more gently, "You can recognize your father's faults and still love him, you know. Love and hate, respect and disdain, loyalty and disloyalty, these are all emotions that can be held independently of one another. You can love a person and still decide to betray them. You can hate a person and still respect them in some ways." He grinned crookedly, knowing that latter was probably what Dirk felt for him at the moment.
Dirk glared at him a bit longer, then sighed and started scrubbing his cauldron again. "I need tae think."
Severus nodded. End of discussion for this evening then, and not a terrible place to end it. "Good. I need to grade. But remember, Mr. Prentiss, I am here for you. You might not like me, but never think that I neglect my own responsibilities. I don't."
"I ken, Professor."
"You know, if that boy doesn't decide to go back to that place, overdose on something horrible, and kill himself, he might decide to kill you instead, Professor," the Hat suggested after a few minutes. "You were fairly merciless there. Not that I disagree with anything you said, but it was clearly hard for him to hear."
There is a reason I always carry a bezoar in my pocket, Severus thought wryly. And I've only got six months to help him face reality before he graduates. I don't have time to be gentle. Or the expertise. I'm not a mind healer or a therapist.
Author's note: Life is hard when you're a teenager who has been told to expect a lifestyle that isn't realistic and has learned to deny the evidence of your own eyes. Meanwhile, Severus still only has a few modes amongst the students: tough love is the best he can offer at the moment. Expect the usual update on Friday, and thanks for the reviews :)