Savior by lesyeuxverts
Past Featured StorySummary: AU. Harry is Sorted into Slytherin and Snape is confronted with some disturbing realizations.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Hermione, Other, Petunia, Ron
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Slytherin!Harry
Takes Place: 3rd summer
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 12 Completed: No Word count: 49313 Read: 74308 Published: 24 Apr 2006 Updated: 12 Sep 2006
Chapter 2 by lesyeuxverts
Author's Notes:

The usual disclaimers about how none of the characters etc. belong to me still applies.

Thank you all for the wonderful positive reviews and encouragement; this chapter literally wouldn't have been written without you. I hope that you continue to enjoy this story.

Potter sat at the end of the Slytherin table, apart from the other students. His eyes flickered over the students seated closest to him, Draco Malfoy and his followers Crabbe and Goyle. Potter’s eyes were fixed on them, his gaze was nervous and jerky as he traced their movements. He jerked back and flinched whenever one of the boys reached for the bacon or eggs or toast.

Severus glared at the boy from the Head Table. He had been watching the boy throughout breakfast, watching him stare at the other students and the food as they ate. Potter had not yet eaten anything.

Severus glared at the boy as he reached for his own mug of coffee. It was early in the morning. Quirrell sat beside him, twittering and stuttering like a useless Muggle doll programmed to talk. Albus Dumbledore had offered him a lemon sherbert. The ceiling in the Great Hall was slate-gray and stormy, suggesting that he wouldn’t be able to collect necessary potions ingredients in the Forbidden Forest that afternoon due to the rain.

On a typical day, any one of these would be an excellent reason for Severus’s headache and bad temper. Today his ire was focused on only one topic: Harry Potter was not eating his breakfast.

The boy sat at the end of the table, shoulders hunched and eyes wide as he watched other students devour their breakfasts with nauseating table manners and bright cheerful chatter. Potter watched Crabbe and Goyle compete with each other to cram the most rashers of bacon down their throats. He watched Draco butter his toast and sip his pumpkin juice with aristocratic manners. He watched the plates full of food, a variety of breakfast delicacies both hot and cold, being emptied.

Severus watched the boy watching the food and scowled. The boy remained oblivious to his glare and his plate remained empty. Yesterday’s discussion had not produced the expected result. If anything, Potter had eaten more before his forced confession than he did now.

The boy’s cheekbones jutted out, casting shadows on his pale skin. He was too thin.

If the boy was too thin, another professor would notice and intervene. Severus did not tolerate the meddling of other Hogwarts faculty with his misunderstood Slytherins and they did not care enough to intervene, but the entire wizarding world would leap to the rescue when it came to Harry Potter. That would not suit Severus or his plans for sweet careful vengeance. He would be the one to save the boy. He would be the one to smirk at James Potter’s grave.

Potter flinched when Draco and his two companions stood to leave for their first class. The boy shrank in on himself and looked even smaller when Draco eyed him for a brief instant. Malfoy gave the boy a curt nod and left the Great Hall with his characteristic elegant poise. With the three boys gone, Potter looked down the table to see that none of his classmates were looking toward him. He reached out and grasped a piece of toast with one thin hand, and then devoured it with clumsy speed. Severus watched him eat, watched him lick every last crumb from his fingers before darting from the table and out of the Great Hall.

Severus scowled at the place at the Slytherin table where Harry had been. The boy had not looked at him once.

-----

Lunch in the Great Hall was more animated than breakfast, the sun having emerged from behind the slate-gray clouds to sparkle on the dark wood of the tables, the students having shaken off their morning drowsiness and the professors having renewed their stocks of conversational topics. “Did you hear?” Quirrell babbled at Severus, “one of Flitwick’s first year students managed a perfect Wingardium leviosa on her first try, he was so pleased.” Except for a sneer at the man for his obvious incompetence, Severus ignored him, his attention fixed on the Slytherin table.

Harry Potter was not there. The isolated seat he had claimed at the end of the table was empty. The other students chattered and laughed and ate, ignoring his absence and the corner where he had sat at breakfast. Draco Malfoy, of course, was the exception and he cast frequent glances at Potter’s seat and then at Severus. The boy’s silver-gray eyes were troubled though his expression was unreadable.

Severus forced his facial muscles to remain motionless, his expression neutral. He nodded once at Draco and focused on his own meal of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes to avoid Draco’s curiosity. He would learn of Potter’s whereabouts and the reason behind his behavior, but he would not involve the Malfoy heir more than necessary. His revenge on James Potter would be ill served if he allowed information to be fed to Lucius. While Severus was capable of the precision and art of potions, Lucius cast blunt hexes and obvious attacks, an approach that was not likely to succeed with Dumbledore protecting the Potter boy.

No, Severus was a Slytherin and was more than capable of subtlety. He smirked at his plate, toying with the string beans that the interfering Poppy Pomfrey had piled there with snide comments about the importance of proper nutrition. He stacked the string beans in careful piles, building a green tower in the center of his plate. Revenge in the form of physical harm done to the Potter brat was easy, pedestrian and unimaginative. Lucius, for all that he’d been in Slytherin, would never understand Severus’s revenge. Despite his elegant poise, the man had no appreciation for true elegance, for subtlety, for imagination.

Severus speared a piece of chicken with his fork and sawed it into minute pieces with his knife. Lucius would have to be kept from Harry Potter, kept from harming the child, and that meant decoying Draco with a plausible story. The Malfoy heir had been too attentive to Harry, spying on him and questioning his behaviors, but it would not do to have him sending reports to Lucius. The boy would have to be distracted, stopped or subverted. Nothing, not even his godson, could be permitted to endanger Severus’s plans.

Severus smirked at Draco, watched the slender boy bite into an apple with pale perfect teeth. The apple was a shocking red against the pallor of his face. Draco was Narcissa’s son and had inherited some subtlety from her, but he had been trained by his father. The boy would be easy to manipulate. No, the Malfoys posed no challenge to Severus. Nothing would interfere with his revenge.

Severus would have the pleasure of knowing that his enemy owed him a debt that could never be repaid. He scowled at the boy’s empty seat. He would have vengeance on James Potter if he wasn’t driven to strangle the boy first out of sheer infuriation. Where was the child? Had he concocted a diabolical plan to wear down Severus’s patience and thwart his revenge? Was he determined to starve?

Severus let his fork fall to his plate, where it landed with a thud on a tower of string beans and sent it toppling down into his untouched mashed potatoes. Quirrell gave a surprised squeak at the abrupt noise. With a last menacing glare at him, Severus strode from the Great Hall in search of Potter.

-----

The broad stone corridors of Hogwarts were empty. Most of the students were still at lunch, and Harry Potter did not make it easy for Severus to find him by lingering in the hallways. Severus headed toward the dungeons, his boot heels tapping a rhythm on the stone floor in time with his heartbeat.

The Slytherin common room was deserted, as was the first year boys’ dormitory. Severus lingered there, his eyes resting on the open closet door. Had Draco spoken the truth about Potter’s sleeping habits? Why did the wretched waif sleep in the closet? Severus spun on his heel and strode from the room.

The boy was infuriating. He was disobeying Severus’s explicit orders regarding meals and now he was hiding. Severus scowled and cast a quick locator spell to find him. Where would a first year student, here for less than a week, hide?

Yes, the library, Severus realized as he followed the faint silver trace of the spell. The boy had mentioned reading a “really great book” yesterday. He enjoyed reading then, just as his condescending, obnoxious, smirking mother had. She’d been so high and disdainful, with her books and her pity and her laughter. Severus shoved her out of his mind.

Her son was perched in a large armchair in one of the study areas of the library. His knees were drawn up to his chest and a thick book was balanced on them. Potter was engrossed in his reading, his gaze fixed on the page, and he did not notice his Head of House approach.

Severus studied the boy who looked to be younger than eleven years old, he was so small. With his legs pulled up to his chest, his uniform slid aside, exposing his ankles. They were so thin that Severus imagined he could encircle them both with one hand. How the Potters would react if they could see their cherished son now – Severus could almost take their anguish, pluck it out of thin air and wrap it around himself like a tangible, comfortable cloak.

Severus took a step forward to catch a glimpse of the book on the child’s knees, but his movement startled the boy. Potter’s gaze rested on Severus for an instant, his shocked emerald eyes crystal with fear, before he dropped his gaze to the book again. Potter brought his arms up around himself, clutching his legs to his chest and dislodging the book. Potter huddled in the corner of the armchair.

Severus stared at the boy. Potter was afraid of him? This was sweet, considering the fear James Potter had once inspired in Severus, but it would not do. To have Potter cower and shiver in terror before him was satisfying, but it was not true revenge. It did nothing to the boy’s father. Severus did not question his sudden realization that the son was not responsible for the sins of the father. It was only logical that James Potter should be made to suffer for what he had done, and Severus would see that happen. Harry Potter might be the instrument of his revenge, but he would not be harmed by it, Severus decided.

He bent to pick up the fallen book before sitting in the chair nearest to Potter. He was close, but more than an arm’s length away. Surely that distance would calm the skittish boy. “Mr. Potter?” he asked, keeping his tone of voice calm and steady. “Whatever is the matter?”

The boy’s shoulders shook. His tears, if he was crying, were silent.

“Mr. Potter, let me assure you that you will not be disciplined. I am concerned about your eating habits, yes, but as I informed you yesterday, I am prepared to be lenient with you while you adjust.”

The boy was silent, his shoulders still trembling.

“Can you tell me why you did not attend lunch? Were you afraid?”

The boy gave a quick jerky nod but refused to look at Severus. His skin was pale against the cream color of the armchair and his hair and uniform were small dark blobs against the expanse of whiteness.

“Mr. Potter, please have the courtesy to look at me while I am addressing you. I have assured you that you will not be punished. You have nothing to fear from me.” Severus tried to sound kind and reassuring. The cold tones in his voice thawed a few degrees, but he was otherwise unsuccessful. The boy huddled in on himself still, holding himself in a tight small ball.

“Mr. Potter, you will look at me and explain yourself,” Severus snapped. “Do not test my patience.”

The boy trembled. “Please, sir. Please don’t make me.”

“Be more specific, Potter. What don’t you want to do? I assure you that you will eat. You are far too thin and you will eat if I have to cast an Unforgivable Curse on you to make you do it.”

The boy clutched his knees to his chest, kept his face buried. “N-no, Professor, I – please, don’t make me look at you.”

“Why are you afraid of me, Mr. Potter? Why don’t you want to look at me?”

The boy pressed himself further back into the armchair, making an impression in the cushions in his attempt to move further away from his Professor and the questions he was being asked. Severus sighed, looking down at his pale thin fingers. Why was the boy so terrified? What had happened to frighten him since yesterday? Was he still afraid to eat? Severus’s eyes fell on the book clasped loosely in his potion-stained hands. The book that the Potter boy had been reading was entitled “A Comprehensive Survey of Occlumency and Legilimency for Beginners.”

Severus paled, his gaze going from the book to the frightened boy. He rose, the black folds of his robe falling into place around him. “Let us adjourn to my office, in order to continue this discussion in private,” he said. “I give you my word of honor that I will do nothing to harm you during the discussion, nor will I employ any of the techniques discussed in the book that you have been reading.”

Green eyes streaked with crystal met Severus’s eyes for a second before the boy nodded and let his gaze fall. The boy unfolded himself from the armchair, rather like a marionette being taken from its box, and stood to follow Severus.

-----

“Mr. Potter, please enlighten me as to the source of your interest in Legilimency and Occlumency,” Severus said, taking an oblique opening to the topic after they were both settled into his office. A house elf had popped in with tea and a tray of food for the boy, a steaming bowl of chicken broth and crisp slices of toast. The boy had looked at Severus out of the corner of his eye when he’d requested a repeat of his last meal here. Severus couldn’t fathom the expression on his face, and was tempted to reach out and brush against the boy’s mind with Legilimency. No, it would not help matters, not after he’d promised the boy.

Potter fiddled with the spoon before answering. “I was afraid, sir, that you would … do that thing again, where you touched my mind. I … I didn’t like it,” he said.

“Do you have any questions about the material that you have read thus far?” Severus asked, skirting around his real question.

“I … I don’t think so, sir.”

“Tell me what you have learned, then.” Severus’s stomach rumbled at the rich salty smell of the chicken broth, reminding him of his own half-eaten lunch. “Eat while you are explaining. It wouldn’t do to have you miss lunch.”

“The … the only defense against Legilimency is Occlumency, sir. But most Legilimens have to make eye contact, so if you don’t look at them, then you’re safe.”

“Correct, as far as it goes,” Severus said when the boy paused to take a tentative spoonful of his chicken broth. “Did you learn anything about the legislation that regulates the use of Legilimency?”

The boy froze with his spoon halfway back to his bowl. “I wasn’t going to … to do anything, sir. I know it’s illegal and I would never … please, sir. I wouldn’t.”

The boy knew what Severus had done to him yesterday then. Severus took a deep breath and folded his hands on the desk. “The thought had not crossed my mind. I was more concerned with whether or not you will be reporting me to the appropriate authorities.”

“Report you, sir? What for?” the boy asked with his spoon still poised in midair. Severus gestured at him to continue eating and the boy obeyed.

“Report me for my unauthorized use of Legilimency on you yesterday, of course. You’ve read the laws and know that what I did was wrong.” Severus held his breath, waiting for the boy’s response. He had never before been caught. It was not that he had made a habit of snooping through his students’ vapid minds, but the occasional brush to check their veracity or their emotional state was sometimes useful. Not once, in all his time at Hogwarts, had a student possessed the subtlety and talent to detect his intrusion. That Potter, an untrained first year student, had been able to do so spoke of the boy’s potential.

Severus watched the boy’s large green eyes blink rapidly. The boy might have the talent to save the Wizarding World, but that did not save Severus now. “But what you did wasn’t against the law, sir,” the boy finally said.

“No, Mr. Potter? Do enlighten me. Perhaps I’ve forgotten asking you for your consent, hmm? That is the only scenario where it would be permissible to invade your mind.”

“But those laws don’t apply to me,” Potter said, “I’m just a child.” He took another careful spoonful of chicken broth, his big eyes watching Severus.

“Laws don’t apply to you, Mr. Potter? What an interesting notion. Does that mean that we can look forward to a year full of rule breaking from you?”

“Oh no, sir. There are laws to keep children from doing things. There just aren’t any laws to protect them. I’ll follow all your rules, Professor,” the boy promised.

“Who told you this?” Severus asked, his hands clutching the arms of his chair.

“Uncle Vernon,” the boy said, taking a bite of his toast.

Severus closed his eyes and forced each muscle in his body to relax, one by one. His hands now loose around the chair arms and his breathing slow and calm, he opened his eyes to see the boy watching him. “Mr. Potter, your uncle was mistaken. There are in fact a great number of laws designed specifically to protect children. The more I learn of him, the more I suspect that anything he has ever said to you should be disregarded. Do you understand me?”

The boy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“I am prepared to make you an offer for your silence, Mr. Potter. My offer is not unlimited, but I will grant you anything within reason.”

“For what, sir?”

Severus gripped the chair arms again in his frustration. “Do pay attention to the conversation that we’re having, boy,” he hissed.

Harry Potter turned white and shrank back into the chair, dropping his spoon to the floor. “P-please, sir, please, I’m sorry,” he said.

Severus closed his eyes, relaxed each muscle in his body, and began to recite the list of potions ingredients stored in his cabinets. He opened his eyes to find the boy still white and trembling.

“Calm yourself, Mr. Potter. I have no intention of harming you. I have given you my word,” Severus made his voice as low and soothing as possible. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

Potter opened one eye. “I won’t do it again, sir.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t be frightened.” Potter had stopped shaking, but remained in the corner of the chair, as far away from Severus as he could get.

“Have some more tea and toast. I’ll conjure you a new spoon,” Severus offered.

When relative peace had been restored, the child licking crumbs of toast from his small fingers, Severus tried again. “Perhaps I didn’t explain myself very clearly,” he said. “I meant that you may stipulate a reasonable price, something which I will give you, and in return you will inform no one that I used unauthorized Legilimency on you. Do you understand now?”

The boy hesitated. “Does that count just this one time, or does it mean I have to be quiet about it in the future too?”

Severus blinked. “I will not perform Legilimency on you again without your consent. It was wrong of me to do so in the first place.” Not quite an apology, as Severus hated to apologize, but the boy had been terrified and he could offer him this much reassurance.

Then the boy asked, “And you won’t tell anyone what you saw in my mind, will you, because then they would know.”

Severus nodded. “That is correct. You need not ask for that, Mr. Potter. Nor need you ask for food, as your meals at Hogwarts do not depend on anything that you do. What is your price, then?”

The boy stared at Severus’s desk, and his empty plate and bowl, for a second. “I … I guess … I want your silence, too. In return for mine, that seems fair, doesn’t it?”

“You wish to have my silence about what?”

“The … the food and everything, I don’t want you to tell anyone about that. You can’t tell the Dursleys, or anyone else, because they might tell the Dursleys that I’ve been eating food here.”

“Did you mean to phrase it that way, Mr. Potter? Surely you will want to have my silence about the food that you will eat, as well as the food that you have eaten.”

The boy’s head turned up, his bright green eyes fixed on Severus. “The food that I will eat? Am I still allowed to eat then?”

Severus stared at the boy for a long instant. “Why do you doubt that? I thought that I had made myself clear. You are not only allowed to eat, you are required to eat. There will be no more missed meals.”

The boy looked down at the floor and Severus sighed. It was one step forward and five steps backward with this boy, but it would do no good to force him to make eye contact. “Why do you think that you would not be allowed to eat?” he asked.

“Well, you … you … with the Legilimency, sir. I figured that since you’ve seen how … horrible I am on the inside, you wouldn’t want to give me any more food.”

“Nonsense,” Severus said. He contemplated whether it would be best to inform the boy that he had only brushed the surface of his mind, or whether deeper reassurance was required. Severus bit his lower lip, disquieted by his own sentimentality for the son of his enemy. Still, Harry Potter had done nothing, and no Slytherin child should endure this self-doubt. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you on the inside, Mr. Potter,” he said at last. “There’s no reason at all why you should be denied food.”

Severus glanced at the clock and banished the boy’s empty dishes. “Very well then, I will give you my silence, about past and future food, in exchange for your silence, Mr. Potter. You’d better head off to class now before you’re late. I expect to see you this evening, eating dinner.”

He sat, his head cradled in his hands, after the boy had darted out of his office. His optimistic thoughts about the simplicity and elegance of his revenge against the Potters had faded. This revenge would involve more effort, more tact and care than Severus had anticipated. Was revenge against the Potters, who were cold in their graves, worth it? Yet, he would have done so much for any other Slytherin without the thought of revenge to drive him. Severus sighed and headed to his next Potions class. There would be plenty of time to deal with the Potter boy later.

To be continued...


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=1140