Severus had been dreading September 1st, 1991 since he first began teaching.

There would be no question of whether the Potter spawn would show magical prowess and Severus knew that the day the brat arrived would start a largely exhausting seven years. And Severus, as he often was, turned out to be mostly correct; wrong only in the ways the boy proved to be so very tiring. Because depriving Severus of sleep was something Harry did well.

Though he was loath to admit it even to himself, Severus had long before decided the Potter boy would show up on his first day a rambunctious, pretentious, arrogant, brat; the new poster boy of Gryffindor, just like his father before him had been.

His envisionment of the boy was so strong that when the first years swarmed into the great hall that night, Severus had hardly noticed the boy was there. Shockingly to them all, Potter wasn't the overindulged, proud savior-to-be the world had come to expect but instead a sickly-thin,
jumpy, timid little boy.

It almost sickened Severus to think back to how very much they all expected of Potter, a mere child. How much he had expected of the boy.

And if the anticipation of the boy’s arrival was tangible then Severus didn’t know how to describe the intensity that awaited Potter’s sorting.
He hadn’t been alone in assuming the boy would be donning red and gold robes; earlier that evening, even, Severus had overheard the other heads gossiping about Potter as they gathered in the great hall.

“Oh but he’ll be a lion, Minerva, I’m sure of it. Though perhaps a ‘puff -Our Dear Lily was such a kind young woman. But James- Ha!”

Suffice to say he had not been alone in his preconception of Potter. No one had been shocked when Harry Potter- boy-who-lived, savior of the wizarding world - was sorted into Slytherin house more than Severus Snape.

By the end of that first night, everything Severus had thought to be true about Potter was obliterated. He watched the boy as he stumbled over the yellowed laces of his too large trainers, studied the way he flinched at every sudden noise or movement, how his eyes never met his fellow students’ and as Farley and Pucey had to all but force him to eat something.

It was not unusual for Severus to spot signs of abuse in his first years, aided not only by his own childhood but by the rate in which those who experienced similar were placed with him (or Pomona). And while that was, of course, an issue to be dealt with, the problem with Potter was far more pressing.

Severus was the first to defend his snakes, but he wasn’t naive to the fact that many of them had grown up in pureblood-centric homes; that some of them had parents that had only just managed to escape imprisonment following the first war. And, regardless, the entirety of the wizarding world had its eyes glued on the boy. It wouldn’t be long before Potter’s predicament left the safety of the castle’s walls: ‘Saviour in Slytherin: Can He Save Us?’

While it hadn’t shocked him to find his godson cementing a friendship with Potter, Severus couldn’t deny it pleased him. He knew it wouldn’t help the headlines (‘Boy-Who-Lived Friends With the Heir of Malfoy’). But he also knew that Draco had a sincere kindness hidden under his mask of pureblood etiquette.

The first week of school was always a long one; riddled with homesick first years, fourth years with forgotten summer homework, seventh years that seemed to think they were already finished with schooling. Still, between marking essays and assigning chapters, Severus made sure to find time to study Potter, watching closely to the ways the boy seemed to thrive in Slytherin.

Along with Draco, his friendship with Zabini and Nott had grown strong even in the short period of time. Severus was pleased to see that by the start of the second week Potter was eating with only little prompting and began to finish most of his plate (that of which was still prepared by Farley, with Severus’ encouragement), so much so that he was reconsidering whether to give the boy a nutrition supplement.

The professors had all been expecting the boy to come with little more knowledge than what a muggleborn possessed, so Severus was not alone in his astonishment when Potter showed a rapid improvement in his studies. Though while the others gossiped in the staff room, Severus knew it to be a result of attending Slytherin administered study meets and the teachings of his friends.

Other than needing to tend to the boy’s probable injuries and the obvious situation with his relatives, the distress Severus had had about Potter that first night was quickly dwindling.

Until, of course, that second Thursday.

No one, bar maybe the boy himself, had been more enraged when Harry Potter was taken out of the dungeons and placed high in Gryffindor tower than Severus Snape. Which meant that it would be up to one Severus Snape to bring his snake back to where he belonged, Dumbledore's plan be damned.

Over the course of the following week, Severus watched as not only all of the progress Potter had made diminished, but as he regressed further. His dinner sat uneaten, his hands tremored in class, he stopped answering questions.

Severus summoned a decanter of firewhiskey and swiftly swallowed a glassful. He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes in a feeble attempt to soothe his aching head and looked to the letter sitting on his desk with a sigh.

“A long year, indeed.”

. . . . .

Draco wasn’t dumb. He was many things (proud, handsome, sarcastic, witty, kind (to those he liked), loyal (to those who deserved it)) but being stupid wasn’t one of them.

He, like any other honourable wizard, knew who Harry Potter was before he met him, and he knew that attending school with The Boy Who Lived would be something meritable years down the line.

But a future praise wasn’t why Draco had wanted to befriend Harry- or, well, it wasn’t the only reason he had, at least.

Draco had already met many of the Slytherin first years in brief play-dates when they were younger; their parents all working to upkeep the aquintices among other puebloods. So he already knew that Vincent and Greg weren’t the type he wanted to spend his Hogwarts years with.

It wasn’t his plan all along, to be friends with Harry Potter, especially not when he had thought him to be a future Gryffindor. But once Harry was sorted into Slytherin, Draco knew.

There was something he really liked about Harry; about the way he seemed to soak up information like Draco’s socks had before his mum had charmed them dry. He liked how Harry’s whole everything got excited when he did a spell right or when he helped Theo perfect a potion.

And Harry was nice, too!

Draco knew that he, too, could be nicer to others sometimes. He knew that his rudeness toward Hufflepuffs wasn’t something that would attract many friends, but the thought of him being friends with a Gryffindor sent a shiver down his spine.

But Harry was always nice to him, even when other Slytherins weren’t. Harry didn’t mind hearing Draco rattle on about the creatures that lived in the black lake or how he had gotten a broom for his ninth birthday and the peacocks that waddled around the front gates of his manor.

And, even though Draco always heard the professors muttering otherwise, Harry was so very Slytherin. Like a true snake, Harry didn’t make up a lie when professor Flitwik had asked if he and Blaise had been joking during class but instead smartly omitted the truth. He was resourceful, too, and made sure to attend all of the study meets he needed to keep his grades up.

That and he was smart. Draco didn’t know why Harry never believed them; Blaise and Theo, too, of course, always told Harry he did really good in herbology and charms but Harry refused to agree even when older students did. Secretly, Draco thought that his humbleness was more a Hufflepuff trait than a Slytherin one, but he appreciated that it kept Harry from acting like an arrogant Gryffindor.

Because no matter what Dumbledore said, Harry wasn’t a Gryffindor. He didn’t belong there; he belonged back in the dungeons, in his bed right next Blaise and Draco’s own.

Harry hadn’t been able to tell them what had happened that night. Draco, Theo, and Blaise had ignored the prefects’ calls of curfew, keeping themselves awake in the common room until Harry returned. It wasn’t until late that he did, shaking and holding a vial of calming draught.

Draco had known something bad had happened, not that any of them expected less, and jumped to his feet. “What happened?”

Harry stood in the entryway for a few minutes, trying and failing to say anything before shaking his head. It took a few more moments and a prompting “Harry?” from Theo before he could answer them in a weak voice.

Draco didn’t think any of them slept that night.

The next morning, there was a message demanding they all wait in the commons before heading to breakfast and, at seven sharp, Snape arrived.


His presence alone commanded silence but it didn’t carry the air of a problem solved that Draco had hoped and he noticed as Harry tensed next to him.

“Last night,” He started carefully, “after a careful deliberation between the Headmaster and professor McGonagall, it was decided that Mr.Potter be transferred to Gryffindor House.” The room exploded into a dispute that made Draco smile; it would be much easier to keep Harry if everyone was in agreement.

Snape raised a hand and a quiet fell over the room again.

“I am bringing this to your attention this morning because, as all of you do, I do not believe this to be the correct choice. If it were up to me, Potter would be staying put. As it is, I have very little power in this matter, and while I will be looking into reversing this act, for now, Potter will be staying in Gryffindor.

“However,” He paused to look over each of the Slytherins just as he had the first night, “I expect you all to treat Mr.Potter the same as you have over the past week.”

“Professor,” In that moment, Draco thought his Uncle Sev was going to give Pucey detention for a month for interrupting him, but instead he watched as his anger fled as quickly as it had formed once Pucey spoke.

“We all know Harry’s a Slytherin, why would any of us treat him any differently?”