Chapter Text
“‘Scuse me. Sir?”
Severus turned around at the meek voice. Upon seeing Potter, he promptly disguised his confusion with a sneer. “What is it, Potter?” he spat.
“Erm… I just wanted to say something… to you.”
“Yes, evidently. Spit it out.”
“Erm…” The anxious boy dithered, shuffling back and forth on his feet.
“Any day now, Potter.” Severus’ patience was running thin. He had been on his way to a meeting with the headmaster to discuss the possibilities of what the disturbing events with Quirrel might portend.
“Er, right. Um. I just wanted to say. Um. Well— Uh. When I was with Quirrel…”
Severus’ ears pricked up. So there was something that Potter hadn’t revealed about his encounter with the Dark Lord? Why hadn’t the brat spoken up earlier? And why did he stop Severus to discuss it, rather than Albus or Minerva?
“When I was with Quirrell, we— that is, he and I— We talked about you.”
Oh no. So that daft sycophant had told the boy about his previous loyalties? He supposed it didn’t truly matter. Albus would tell the boy of his true allegiance. Whether or not the boy believed it wasn’t of any matter to him anyway. He hoped the boy feared him; that might help keep him in line, at least in Severus’ classroom.
“Um. He said— Well. I accused you of trying to kill me during that Quidditch match when my broom went all haywire. And he said that it wasn’t you. Um. Apparently it was actually him. Er. And he said that you— Well. He said that you were actually the one trying to save me in that instance... So I just wanted to— I mean, all that to say— Erm. I just wanted to thank you, Professor. I, um… I’m sorry I doubted you. I know you’re committed to your students’ safety, even if you don’t exactly like them. So I just wanted to… apologize… and… thank you… I’m really grateful. I’m only okay beca— I mean— I guess I probably wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for you. He admitted he was trying to kill me at the time. So… maybe he would’ve succeeded if it weren’t for you. So… thank you…”
Wow. That was the most ineloquent apology slash thank you that Severus had ever heard in his life. And he had heard a great many blithering ones stuttered out by cowed Death Eaters. Perhaps he should have interrupted sooner so that the boy hadn’t had the opportunity to keep on rambling. At least the boy seemed embarrassed and still anxious. Silver linings, Severus smiled internally.
“Right. As a professor, it is my responsibility to care for all students of Hogwarts. Even the most idiotic, reckless, entitled Gryffindors. Just know that that fact does not make it acceptable for you to continue carving out your emerging pattern of foolishness and poor judgement in the face of potential danger. I will make it my mission to have you expelled if you continue to exhibit such dangerous behaviors.”
The boy tensed and visibly paled. Severus fought back a smirk. The boy clearly was not used to being admonished. Well, he would have to learn. Severus would be more than happy to teach him about humility. Unlike with potions, which could be life-or-death in the NEWT levels, the only stakes in teaching humility were not making the child humiliated enough, which Severus had never had a problem with.
“Alright, sir.” The boy’s voice was barely more than a whisper as he looked down at his trainers, which were muddy and a downright disgrace to the Hogwarts uniform.
“Now go away and do something resembling what an obedient child would do. Need I remind you of the upcoming essay on the effects of various fungi in Aqua Vitæ based potions? Lest you submit an essay as dismal as your last on the Wiggenwald. I truly would hate to give you another Dreadful. It would be such a shame.” The sarcasm practically dripped from his voice.
“No, sir.” The meek child in front of him shook his head, keeping his eyes on the floor, and turned to leave towards the direction of Gryffindor tower. Huh, Severus thought. He’d have expected more resistance from the boy. He must be really struggling to maintain his cheap facade of sincere gratitude.
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Upon entering the headmaster’s office, Severus immediately felt as if he had missed some vital information. The office was as it always was: cluttered, chaotic, and alive with magic. The desk was piled high with various bits and bobs that Severus assumed must be useless muggle contraptions, among which he recognized a Rubick’s cube of all things. Severus shuddered at the teenage memory of overhearing Lily explain to Potter what the toy did. There in the midst of all the chaos sat the headmaster, smiling, as if he had just cracked the secret to rigging the lottery in his favor.
“Hello, Albus…” Severus’ hesitant drawl made the headmaster’s grin grow.
“Good evening Severus. Come. Sit.” The twinkle in the man’s eyes was unexpected. He was here to discuss the ramifications of the growing power of the Dark Lord, was he not? “I’d like to talk about our young Harry Potter.”
Severus scoffed, “What is there to say, Headmaster? The boy is a walking trouble magnet, or, more accurately, he creates trouble, rather than attracts it.”
The headmaster’s smile grew, “Quite.” That airy yet commanding voice always put Severus’ teeth on edge in moments like this. Why wouldn’t the man just say what he wanted to say? Why must he lead Severus on a wild chase towards the desired topic. For a headmaster, the man clearly had too much time on his hands.
“What about him do you wish to talk about?”
The headmaster hummed in thought. “What do you think of the recent events with Quirrell?”
Severus could hardly believe it. Surely, the headmaster already knew his thoughts on it. Why must Albus always play these games? “I think that the Dark Lord is getting closer to his inevitable return. That he was strong enough to cohabitate Quirinus’ body shows how much his power has grown. If he has been able to do such a thing for an entire year, it makes me wonder what else he has done in these ten years he’s been gone. It puts us at a disadvantage not knowing of his activities and whereabouts. If he has been existing as a shade, as Potter described, this whole time, who’s to say what he might have been able to accomplish? He could have gone anywhere, recruited anyone, overheard anything.”
The headmaster sat patiently through Severus’ concerns, much to Severus’ pleasant surprise. “You misunderstand, my dear boy. Although I agree with you and would like to discuss that topic later this evening, I wish to first discuss Harry’s involvement that night, not Voldemort’s.” Sheer will kept Severus from flinching at the name. Once the instinctive fear left him, confusion dawned.
“Potter?” Severus rolled his eyes, “What about him? The boy directly disobeyed your orders to stay away from the third floor corridor. He dragged two classmates into a life-threatening situation, incapacitating another. He destroyed Quirrell’s body. What else is there to say?”
“Hmmm… indeed, those things are true. But what do you think of his motivations? I already know of his actions.”
Well that was easy to answer. “The boy is motivated by a reckless and compulsive desire for praise and attention. He’s not used to being just one student in hundreds, and cannot stand not being the center of attention for more than a short period of time. He is obviously favored by many of his Professors, but I and the others that at least attempt to remind him that he is simply another eleven year old make him itch with a desire to lash out and disobey authority.”
“Hmmm… I admit I did expect this stance from you, Severus? But, truly? When you really think about it, do these seem like the actions of a boy desiring praise and easy-living? Harry put himself in grave danger, seemingly without a second thought—” No thought is more like it, Severus thought. “And you said, yourself—Harry directly disobeyed my orders; he also acted against Minerva’s authority after he and his friends brought their concerns to her.”
Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Was the headmaster really trying to convince him that Potter was acting selflessly? No. Severus would never believe it. This was a ploy by the headmaster to earn Potter more sympathy. Sympathy he didn’t need or deserve. Why the headmaster cared so much about his opinion of Potter, however, Severus could not tell. Perhaps the boy had complained about him. He had been quite harsh on the boy at some points, but really, Severus was just attempting to level the playing field—reverse the big head that other professors had given him.
“I see…” Severus started slowly, “If you do not believe attention was his primary motivation, what do you speculate was?”
The headmaster took a deep breath, seemingly in deeper thought than Severus had seen him in in many years. “I cannot be sure. I fear your thoughts of my supposed favoritism may have some truth to them. I am perhaps not the most impartial judge. I certainly see how someone would have come to the same conclusion you did, even without the personal rancor I know you have for him. However, I am still inclined to think…”
Severus waited. “Well? What do you think motivated Potter to act so… selflessly?” The word tasted like vitriol on his tongue. It was too close to actually saying the boy had done good.
Albus seemed to remember himself, “Ah. Well, I simply think the boy wanted to do the right thing. To sacrifice safety and good esteem. For the Greater Good.”
The look in the headmaster’s eyes uneased Severus. It was the same look that he had on the night Severus had pleaded for Lily’s life— Like he was plotting all the ways he could use this to his advantage— “You think the boy knew of the greater consequences of Quirrell acquiring the stone? He surely had no knowledge that the Dark Lord had any involvement, at least in the beginning.”
“I think he knows that no one should live forever, regardless of whether they’re a harmless Muggle Studies professor or a dark lord. Perhaps the boy has a more… pure view of life itself than, say, an adult, who is corrupted by ambition.”
“Hrm,” Severus did not like the implication that Slytherins are corrupt. The idea that a child had a better grasp of the significance of life than someone— anyone else who had lived a real life, with real struggles, real loss, real accomplishments, rather than having everything handed to them on a silver platter was ridiculous. Surely Severus would have a more “pure” view of life. He knew how the world really was. How pieces fit together to make a complicated picture, where no one was good or bad. People just made more or less negative impact on others. Surely he— with his life filled with trials, and lost love, and sacrifice— who kept on living to atone for his mistakes, even through times he wished he didn’t—who was truly selfless, living a life of constant servitude. For the Dark Lord, for Lily, for Dumbledore— Surely he understood life better than Potter. Dumbledore was barmy if he thought the boy was pure. Sure, his life was pure; it had no trace of anything bad in it. But his mind? His mind was perhaps more corrupt than even Severus’. Potter was an eleven year old brat who was ungrateful and entitled, taking his perfect life for granted, even willing to needlessly throw it all away in pursuit of praise and attention.
Severus chose not to voice these thoughts, instead electing to say, “I think you forget that Potter is a mere child, Albus. You have these delusions of grandeur for him; he is not some saintly protege who took the time to understand the full situation before moving in the route he determined best. He acted on his own uneducated, ignorant impulses. He had no consideration for the ‘greater good’ as you suggest; he didn’t even show any concern for his young classmates; his so-called friends could have died, Albus. It is obvious to me that he was merely seeking an avenue for praise.”
Dumbledore smiled faintly at the insinuation that he was delusional but quickly sombered as he considered Severus’ words. “Hmmm... Perhaps there’s some truth to that. I will keep that in mind, but, for now, I hold onto the hope that Harry’s actions were more selfless than you suggest. Thank you for sharing your perspective, Severus… Now, on to other matters.”
They proceeded to talking about the Dark Lord’s possible plans— a topic that should’ve been rather exciting, but was, in fact, extremely boring.
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The end of the school year was approaching and Severus was looking forward to a quiet summer of growing and foraging potions ingredients, reading all the potions publications he hadn’t had time for yet, and not grading a single paper.
Before Severus could enjoy his well-deserved rest however, he had one more meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Apparently, the headmaster was incapable of choosing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor by himself, and wished for Severus’ input. Severus rolled his eyes. Why did the old man always feign incompetence? He knew the man was a genius, so he suspected he was just lazy, choosing instead to focus his efforts on whatever his latest secret scheme was.
Their predictably tedious meeting was mercifully interrupted by a faint knock on the door. Both men turned to look.
“Are you expecting someone, Albus?” Severus quietly hoped this interruption would provide him with a means of escape. Maybe Albus would get distracted and let their conversation end here.
“No… Well, we can continue our discussion after learning what this is about.” Dumbledore waved his hand and silently opened the door, whilst Severus cursed the old man mentally.
On the other side of the door stood Potter. A sneer instantly found its way to Severus’ face. Not only was his meeting with Dumbledore prolonged, but by Potter. The insolent brat was actually interrupting the headmaster’s meeting without an appointment! The boy truly was so entitled, thinking it was Albus’ responsibility to bend to his every whim. Didn’t he understand that the headmaster was here to manage the school, not socialize with first years who seem to have no concept of seeking a lower authority before whining straight at the top of the ladder? Severus itched to punish the boy for his audacity. However, he took pity on him instead, remembering, with a smirk on his face, how Slytherin would surely win the house cup tonight. His house was so far ahead; there was no point in retracting points so late in the school year.
Albus’ expression relaxed at the sight of the boy. “Hello, Harry, my boy. Is something wrong?” Severus would never fathom how the headmaster had such patience for little brats like Potter.
“Erm. No, Sir. I just— um.” Potter’s eyes flitted nervously between his potions master, the headmaster, and his shoes.
Albus raised his brows and nodded encouragingly. This seemed to give Potter the push he needed. His eyes remained on the headmaster, determinedly avoiding his professor seated in front of the desk. “I was wondering if I could be allowed to stay at Hogwarts over the summer?”
The boy’s audacity truly knew no bounds. Severus had asked the same question after his first year, and his fifth, and his sixth. He had even offered to take up a summer job in the castle just to avoid going back to his father, but the headmaster said the house elves and groundskeeper were more than enough help during the summertime. If Potter thought he could be the exception to the rule, just because he’s the boy-who-lived, he had another thing coming to him. Just as Severus opened his mouth to put him in his place, Albus spoke.
“Why on Earth would you wish for that, Harry?”
The boy stiffened. He threw his chin high and his shoulders back as if in arrogance, but it seemed too tense to be natural. He hadn’t even expected to be questioned then, Severus realized with an eye-roll.
“Well, I—... I—... I just thought it would be easier this way, sir. You see, the Dursleys don’t really understand how to use owls, so I’m not sure they got the message to pick me up from King’s Cross. If they didn’t get the letter, or couldn’t figure out how to send a response back, saying they couldn’t come, I don’t know what I’ll do.” The boy hesitated, as if wondering how much detail he should put into this blatant lie. “London can be very dangerous you see, Aunt Petunia taught me that. There are kidnappers and pickpockets, and— Well, it’s just that I’m so small, and if people see me walking around by myself—” The boy cut off his rambling at Dumbledore’s mischievous smile.
“It’s good to be vigilant, my boy, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I always have Hogwarts’ smartest owls deliver the letters to muggle families in cases like this. It is highly unlikely that anything should happen. And, if you cannot find your family on the muggle side of the platform, come back through to the wizarding side. There will surely be someone available to help you there. We always ensure that our students get home safe, Harry.”
“Err. Right.” It seemed as if the boy was not satisfied with this response. He seemed to be trying to formulate another excuse in his head, his eyes shifting back and forth among Dumbledore’s multitude of animated trinkets.
The little manipulator took a deep breath before seeming to deflate, as if he was giving up on trying to maintain this foolish farce.
“Well, really, sir—” his eyes suddenly went to Severus. Severus met them with the scowl. This was truly ridiculous behavior. Thinking he could fool the headmaster? A skilled legilimens? Not that he would ever use the skill on a student, but, really? The boy ought to be ashamed, though Severus suspected “shame” was not in the boy’s vocabulary.
The boy unhunched his shoulders, bolstering himself once again for the lies he was about to spew. “The truth is, Sir, I don’t want to go back to the Dursleys. And I don’t think they want me there either.”
Severus was taken aback for a moment, before regaining his composure. This meant nothing. Nothing apart from the fact that Potter was so spoiled that, after an entire school year of non-stop praise and attention, he took his guardians treating him only slightly above average as a moral offense. This school year had apparently done more for his inflated ego than Severus would have imagined. He was pleased, however, to hear that his guardians— whoever these Dursley people were— were being reasonable in their treatment of their ward. It was good that the boy would get a detox from all the attention he received this school year. He needed to be reminded of what it was like to be a normal— even if still spoiled— child.
“Harry, the Dursleys chose to take you in. They want you in their house, I promise you. You’ve been with them since you were a baby; they love you,” the headmaster’s eyes shone with something that Severus hoped was growing impatience.
The child looked down and scuffed his feet. “I really don’t think that’s true, Sir.”
Severus scoffed, finally having had enough. “Do run along, Potter. You’ve received your answer. There’s no reason for you to get special treatment, despite whatever you may think.”
“But!” The boy looked frantically between the two adults in front of him, before his eyes steadied pleadingly on Dumbledore’s.
The headmaster finally showed no lenience. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m afraid I agree with Professor Snape on this. You must go home to the Dursleys this summer.”
Potter blinked, as if surprised that an authority figure would actually exert authority on him. He let out a dramatic sigh, “Yes, Sir.”
He turned to leave the office, but Dumbledore’s sympathy came back in full swing, a reassuring smile on his face. “Remember, my boy. It’s just a short summer; you’ll be back at Hogwarts in no time.”
Potter looked up, absolutely defeated— though it was probably just an act— “Of course, Sir.” A sad smile stayed on his face until the door closed behind him.
“Little brat.” Severus said it before he could stop himself.
Albus raised an eyebrow, as if calling him out.
Severus shied, but only slightly. “My situation was vastly different from his, Albus. You know that.”
“Hmmm,” Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully, “Indeed.”