-Severus-
It was Sunday evening and Severus was finally making a dent in the stack of homework assignments on his desk. He'd unfortunately spent the entire afternoon in the Dark Lord's presence, planning the infiltration of Hogwarts. How many times before had they planned the same fruitless siege? Today, Lucius and Narcissa had suffered the brunt of the Dark Lord's frustration. As the parents of the boy who, according to the information he had gleaned today, would be opening up the castle for the attack, they were under constant scrutiny. At least Severus now knew what else Draco was trying to accomplish other than the demise of the Headmaster. Still, he had no idea what, specifically, he was planning and Draco had yet to open up to him—at all—about where he was going when he frequently disappeared.
His mark had begun to burn around 10 o'clock that morning and he'd quickly sent his Patronus to Minerva before he hurried silently to the castle's gates. He was in the Dark Lord's presence within ten minutes.
On his return at five in the afternoon, he'd gone straight to Albus' office to report.
He'd spared many thoughts for Harry, but had no opportunity to find out how the boy had fared in his absence. The Harry clock, sitting on his desk as he graded, assured him that Harry had spent the entire evening in Gryffindor tower.
Studying? Playing chess? Doing the hula hoop? Occluding? Frustrated, Severus found Harry's homework assignment and began his response.
/
24 November, 1996
Sunday
Dear Harry:
I've been back in the castle for several hours, safe and sound. It was not my day to suffer much, so I hope your "parallel" experience left you pain-free and functional as well. I sent a quick "note" to Minerva when it became apparent I had to leave and trusted her to check on you, lest you were in the bathtub or flying on your broom when my call came.
It is my hope, indeed, that you will be able to spend the coming summer in a safe place, such as Shell Cottage. It is my hope as well that I will be able to spend time with you there, as I did this past summer. No matter what, rest assured you will not be returning to Surrey—recall that the Dursleys are no longer your legal guardians. Minerva's legal responsibility for you will extend until your next birthday, when you reach your majority. At that time, the Potter inheritance will be yours in full. I would expect there will be enough there for you to purchase your own seaside cottage, or flat in London, or castle in Scotland. Do remember to save enough for this jaunt you mention in your letter, the one you will take after HE is no more. If, at that time, you would still like my company, I will consider it. I have never been to Romania, and find that idea quite intriguing. Do you think the dragon handlers would mind if I picked some stray dragon scales off the ground, or perhaps some shell fragments from freshly-hatched eggs? Both are used in potions and are likely easier to procure than dragon tears or toenail shavings. Of course, you also mention Egypt. While our trip to the British Museum this summer may have given the impression that all the Egyptian mummies now reside in Great Britain, I remain convinced that some have yet to be discovered, sleeping peacefully still in their original sarcophagi, ready to yield a bit of their sacred dust for the betterment of mankind (and the eradication of toenail fungus). If, however, your whim takes you to the third destination you mention—Greece—I could be convinced to accompany you to see the natural sites, sample the food and the wine and contemplate the vagaries of the past among the Grecian ruins. As for the fairer sex, I am simply waiting to be pursued by the woman who finds me to be the man of her dreams. Strangely, there have been no takers as of yet.
While I do admit that my professional self-opinion far exceeds what I feel about myself from a personal perspective, I believe you are not well-versed enough in Slytherin tendencies to understand friendship from our perspective. Slytherins are ambitious. They have a strong desire to prove themselves. They do not commonly enter into friendships to establish support networks or friendly ears or drinking buddies. Slytherins devise friendships. They build partnerships—romantic and platonic—that can advance their agendas in the future. A Slytherin is more likely to choose a life partner for almost any other reason before romantic attraction, be it the uniting of powerful families, sympathetic bloodlines or old money. Slytherins create friendships for protection. They do not unburden themselves to their friends or lay bare their souls.
When you surmise that I, perhaps, was "burned" in the past by my friends, you assume that I had friends on whom I relied, or in whom I trusted. I assure you I did not. I had cohorts. I had dorm mates. I had mentors in the ways of the elitist wizarding world. I did not have friends in Slytherin. I had one true friend while I was at Hogwarts, at least for part of the time, and you know that was your mother. And Lily did not "burn" me. No, it was I that burned her.
Consider, too, that I was an odd product to land in Slytherin. My father—a Muggle. My mother—from an old family, but almost extinct and with no wealth to speak of. My parents did not marry in order to continue their bloodline. Yet I had an instinct to survive, and more importantly, to better my condition. Would it surprise you that most students coming into Hogwarts from neglectful, abusive or simply disinterested households are sorted into Slytherin?
I did not intend this letter to take this direction, but it is important that you think like a Slytherin when trying to analyze one. Enough said.
And enough said about my weaknesses as well. You state that your own greatest weakness is your impulsiveness. As I was, indeed, speaking of character weaknesses, I will ignore the quips about your hair and eyesight except to say that I have some special hair tonic you may borrow at any time to tame your hair. I use it on mine daily and I am sure you cannot accuse my hair of being fly-away or uncontrollable.
Ah yes, your impulsiveness. Miss Granger did, indeed, describe it well with the line from a poem by the English poet Alexander Pope—"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread." The "fools" in this oft-quoted line are those that don't think ahead and plan in advance. It is not the same thing as going with your gut feeling about something when there simply is not time to plan—such as when being pursued by a dragon and being presented with two closed doors. You have to choose or the dragon will devour you; the fool here is the one who waits outside the doors, unable to decide which one to try. My advice to you is this: when there is time, when deliberating a moment or two will not change the eventual outcome of the dire situation, always ask yourself if there is another option, another person who can help you resolve the problem. Perhaps that would not have kept you out of the Chamber of Secrets, for you did have an adult with you, or at least a sorry excuse for one. Indeed, with role models such as Lockhart, your lack of faith in adults is understandable.
As for your greatest strength, may I suggest a word to describe your ability to survive? Your refusal to give up? Try tenacity. A common definition would be "dogged" determination. You are certainly exhibiting this trait in spades of late with your fixation on the activities of Mr. Malfoy.
I would offer up another trait. The Headmaster may describe it as your capacity to love, the emotion that overpowers all the others. When you love someone, you love deeply and truly. But I see this strength of feeling also with what you do not love, what you despise, or what you do not understand fully. One might call it compassion, but I would remove the first syllable and simply call it passion. You love passionately. You hate passionately. Whether this is strength—or weakness—I cannot say. I would surmise that it depends on the circumstance.
As I just saw you in detention on Friday, and we had a chance to talk a bit at then, I will not fill this letter with idle pleasantries. Instead, I will attempt to answer your two questions. I have already answered one, of course.
Your mother was pleasant, intelligent and popular. She was liked by nearly everyone, not least the professors, and had more friends than I could enumerate here. However, she did not have a great many friends from whom she was inseparable.
While I count myself as her best friend, at least in the earlier years, there were three others who were quite close to her. The first was Alice Prewett, later Alice Longbottom, who is, of course, Neville Longbottom's mother. Alice was a year older than your mother and also in Gryffindor. She was an affable girl, smart like your mother, and like her son, her strength was in Herbology. Neville resembles her greatly. Beatrice Harper was your mother's best friend in Gryffindor. Beatrice was in your mother's year and thus they were roommates throughout their years at Hogwarts. She was from Ireland, and used to wear her hair in braids piled up on top of her head. We used to call her "Medusa" for those braids seemed to have a life of their own and would escape the knot and wiggle about like snakes. Beatrice was loud, brassy and Muggle-born, a perfect target for we Slytherins, but she held her own and was a good counterpart to your mother's usual calm. Finally, rounding out the group, was Mary Grace Owens, called "Mo" after her initials, a Ravenclaw. She had a Muggle father and went on to study at Oxford after leaving Hogwarts and disappeared into the Muggle world after your parents' deaths. During her years at Hogwarts, she was the uncontested chess champion. I played her once, at your mother's insistence, while in fourth year, and lost.
I trust you are enjoying the tome you started in my office on Friday. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes is a most interesting read, and sometimes hard to put down. Given your affiliation with the Weasley family, you likely enjoyed "The Red-Headed League" which as I recall is the second story in the volume you are reading.
I cannot end without two more questions for you. Since I have given you some insight into the Slytherin psyche, what is your assessment of what friendship means to a Gryffindor? Following that, what qualities do you admire most in your friends?
Regards,
Severus
/
Severus shook out his right hand, which had begun to cramp from the grip he had kept on his quill. Harry was continuing to prove most surprising; in some ways he seemed infinitely more mature than any other 16-year-old but in others, infinitely younger. He had given the boy quite a bit of fodder to chew on and ample opportunity to throw many of his statements back in his face.
He glanced at the clock again, still indicating that Harry was in Gryffindor Tower. As he should be.
He had a job to do, for both of his masters, and oddly it was the same task. He needed to know Draco's progress; he needed to know what exactly the boy was up to. And he needed to find out before Harry got himself in more trouble. But Draco wasn't talking, and it was too late now to call him in for another session in which Severus attempted to gain his confidence and Draco remained resistant and aloof.
It was not too late, however, to visit the Headmaster and give him another treatment to stall the progression of the curse. Severus rubbed his tired eyes. Soon, all too soon he knew, Draco wouldn't have an opportunity to kill the Headmaster. The curse, he knew, would eventually run its course. Hogwarts would be without a Headmaster and he, Severus, would have the most difficult of choices to make.
-Harry-
Harry had to admit that Severus had great taste in books. He'd been reading Sherlock Holmes on and off since Sunday and often had a hard time putting it down. He hadn't yet been able to figure out any of the stories yet, not before the mystery was revealed at the end, but he loved the titles and the characters and the scenes of a gritty London of yesteryear.
He wished he had a dad, even as lame of a dad as Snape had had, to give him books to read, books that would take him to times and places he'd never imagined. It crossed his mind then that in a way, he did. But he tucked that thought away. Better to hide it than acknowledge the feeling and risk losing something he really didn't have to begin with.
He decided then that he'd start now to catalog books to pass on down to his own children.
He found a spare piece of parchment and started his list. It only contained two books so far, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee and The Complete Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle. But he left plenty of room for more titles, and carefully tucked the parchment into his History of Magic textbook. He hardly every opened that one and figured it would be safer there than anywhere else….well, unless he somehow got a copy of Hogwarts, a History.
/
28 November, 1996
Thursday
Dear Severus:
Since classes were cancelled yesterday (not that we aren't grateful for an occasional day off but how did Peeves manage to get hold of Trelawney's wand anyway?) I had some extra time to think about my letter back to you. I'm in the library now with Hermione while Ron and Lavender are out under the bleachers on the Quidditch Pitch getting up to who knows what. Actually, a whole bunch of them are out there. They're playing some sort of Muggle kissing game, and since I've already kissed most of the girls in Gryffindor I figured I'd get some work done instead and give the other guys their chance. Hermione is finally over the shock of having an unexpected day off. The look on her face when Minerva came into the Common Room and told us we were all to stay put (all day if needed) while the Professors dealt with "a situation" was hysterical. Everyone thought Death Eaters had invaded, but Hermione pointed out that Minerva looked annoyed, not terrified. Since we didn't hear anything for a couple hours, I called Dobby and he told us what was going on. That was probably about 10 in the morning, about the time Peeves used the Aguamenti spell to flood the Great Hall. Why couldn't you find the Bloody Baron to control him? Dobby gave us pretty regular reports. Everyone got a big kick out of the report just after lunch—that was when Professor Trelawney was trying to get her wand back and Peeves did a Levicorpus on her. I wonder if he learned that one from the Gryffindors? Who would have thought that she wore men's boxers under those skirts? You should have heard Dobby describe it! His eyes were as big as saucers and he said it almost reverently. "Oh, Harry Potter, sir. I should not be saying this but I is so admiring Professor Trelawney's undershorts. All silky they is, with one leg purple and one leg gold. And moon and star decorations in silver and red!"
Anyway, I wanted to thank you first for telling me about my mum's friends. I didn't know Neville's mom was her friend. You know, I know about Neville's parents. Last year, when we went to visit Ron's dad in St. Mungo's, I saw them. We ran into Lockhart and he was in the same ward they were. Neville never even told us—we just assumed his parents were dead since he lives with his grandmother and great-uncle. What ever happened to Beatrice? You know, maybe I'm more like my Mom than you think…I only have a few close friends, too. Which takes me right to your question about my friends. I'll start with the qualities I admire most in them. Hands down, loyalty. Which is really kind of ironic, since Ron and I have been on the outs a couple times already, and Ron and Hermione aren't speaking to each other now. No matter, though, I know they'll be there for me whenever I need them, and I know I'll be there for them too. And you can't help but admire Hermione's knowledge, even when it gets annoying. She's a great witch and picks up almost every new spell so quickly. She's usually the first to succeed in the class, and that's why she can't stand Potions this year since I'm actually doing better than she is. Of course, she thinks I'm cheating. I don't know—maybe I am. But I'm learning a lot too, and I suppose that's what matters in the end. They have a lot of other good qualities too, but more than anything else, when they see me they don't just see the scar or the Boy Who Lived. They see Harry, just Harry. And you know, when it comes down to it, most people wouldn't want to get too close to me, given my track record, but these guys don't care. They're some of the bravest people I know, and they actually value me as much as they value their own lives. I really don't even want to think about that anymore.
By the way, I don't think you ever really fill your letters with "idle pleasantries" but go on thinking that if you want!
Now let's talk about Slytherins.
There's something I should tell you. I had to talk the Sorting Hat out of putting me in Slytherin. It wanted to. It said something about my desire to prove myself, and then that I'd do well in Slytherin. But in the end it put me in Gryffindor. I bet if it had called out "Slytherin" you would have fainted on the spot, tipped right over onto the table and broken your nose on the gold plate or tipped backward and cracked your head on the floor. I can't even imagine how different my life would be. All I knew about Slytherin was what Hagrid had told me—that most of the dark wizards came from Slytherin. Oh, and I'd met Malfoy while getting my robes in Diagon Alley. He was a real prat even back then, told me all about how wonderful Slytherin was. Anyway, it didn't happen and I ended up in Gryffindor where I can have friends instead of "cronies" and rush in where angels fear to tread with the rest of the lot.
What is friendship to a Gryffindor? We're supposed to be the brave ones, and I think Gryffindor friendship does have a lot to do with courage. We stand by each other no matter what's ahead, and we stand by our convictions too. Sometimes we're blindly brave or stupidly courageous, but we're very seldom alone. A Gryffindor always seems to have another Gryffindor or two around when things get tough. Gryffindors bring their natural camaraderie to the Quidditch Pitch. But Slytherins seem to create camaraderie because of the competition. You don't see Slytherins uniting together unless they're in competition against someone else.
I know I didn't do a great job of explaining that, but you see it all the time in the halls. Gryffindors travel in packs. Slytherins are a lot more solitary.
Just one question back at you this time—what do you think is Dumbledore's greatest strength and his greatest weakness?
I guess Minerva told you about what happened when you had to leave suddenly on Sunday. Well, nothing, really. Which was good. I felt the call, like usual, and was able to occlude without totally going comatose. I was in our common room watching Ron and Hermione try to avoid looking at each other when it started. It hardly lasted any time at all, and Minerva pulled me out of it after no more than twenty minutes or so. Doesn't matter though—I worried about you all day, especially when I didn't see you at dinner. But the Headmaster let me know you were OK—he has a signal, just a nod with a smile. It doesn't seem like very long since the last time. Is something going on I should know about?
I'm starting to rethink this trip with you. It's starting to sound kind of dangerous. Wouldn't getting newly-hatched dragon egg shells require getting reasonably close to dragon nesting sites? As I recall (think—Tri-Wizard Tournament, first task) female dragons are pretty protective of their eggs, which means they should be pretty damn protective of their babies. And opening up tombs to find fresh mummies? There's only so far this Gryffindor courage will take me! I think it's going to have to be Greece, then, unless you're up or Disney World. I bet they have a good exhibit on Greece at Epcot Center…
It's almost December. Have you and Minerva had a chance to decide where I'm going and what I'm doing? Ron had invited me to come to the Burrow, and I wouldn't mind spending a few days there, but I'm really looking forward to going to Shell Cottage with you. I've been trying to remember all that we're going to do, well, what we've said in these letters. I think you promised to start teaching me Legilimancy, and I'm going to teach you (and Minerva) how to do the hula hoop. That will be the absolute highlight of the holiday, and possibly the highlight of my life. Can you imagine the mileage I'd get out of a few strategic photos of you?
Well, Hermione is glaring at me. I think she realizes I'm not writing my Defense essay. Better get back to work so I have time to start working on my Christmas list. You know, I've never had one of those before. But this year, Minerva told me to give her a few ideas. I guess she plans on buying me something. Ron said to let it go—that's what guardians do, after all. Then he said to ask for chess lessons. Right! He spent tons of time over this latest move. He nearly wore a hole in the parchment with all the erasing until Hermione grabbed it from him (the most contact they've had in weeks!) and did an erasing charm and repaired the damage. Honestly, I think it annoys her that he's such a good chess player.
If you feel like giving me anything, I'd like a clock similar to the one you have. I think you know what I mean.
Regards,
Harry
/
Was it too forward to suggest a gift? Harry pushed aside that concern and left the last line in the letter. He'd gone as far as admitted that he'd worried about Severus all day Sunday. Mentioning the gift wasn't really about getting or receiving a present; it was all about a certain kind of peace of mind, even with the distinct possibility that the clock hand would often point to some place that didn't exactly give him reason to be relieved. Harry could just imagine the hands on a Snape clock—"In the Dungeons," "Out Robbing Dragon Nests," "Terrorizing Students," "Monitoring Detention," "Getting Drunk at the Hog's Head," "Rubbing Elbows with Fellow Death Eaters" and "With My Master." Where would it point, then, when Severus was with Dumbledore?
-Severus-
The first day of December brought the first snowfall of the year. Severus was up at daybreak, walking softly with spelled feet atop the deep snow to the edge of the Forbidden Forest to skim off the top layer of snow beneath the pines and firs. He wasn't sure why he believed in the magical quality of winter's first snow, melted and used in potions requiring water. Still, there was a certain tradition to the collection process, and Severus always enjoyed the spell his mother had taught him that first Christmas he was home from Hogwarts that let him walk atop the snow without sinking in it.
By the time he had gathered all he needed, the sun was high enough in the sky to draw out the students. They were bounding about, all ages and sizes and houses, though the Slytherins were fewest in number, having the good sense to stay inside away from foolish Gryffindors with snow balls. He watched from the edge of the forest as a very large and a much smaller figure worked in front of Hagrid's hut, building what looked to be a snow owl. He almost missed Hedwig as she landed on the small figure's shoulder, telling him definitively that this, indeed was Harry.
He allowed himself one small smile before beginning to trudge back to the castle, where he knew he would find Filch having a fit with the tracked in water and mud.
/
1 December, 1996
Sunday
Dear Harry:
December is not only close, it is here. By now you've surely seen the snow that fell overnight and are outside with the rest of the foolish students (you are right, Gryffindors do travel in packs) playing in the snow and getting frostbite. Madam Pomfrey will certainly have her hands full tonight…I hope Professor Slughorn is up to date on her stock of Pepperup Potion. If there is a shortage, please send Dobby here for a dose for yourself. We have but three weeks until the Christmas Holiday and it will not do to have you ill with pneumonia because of a basic potions shortage.
I appreciate your insight regarding Gryffindors and Slytherins. I agree with your spot-on assessment that Slytherin camaraderie is not innate and must be inspired by a common goal or rivalry. However, three Gryffindor fools rushing in is not necessarily better than a single Slytherin treading quite carefully.
I must comment on your performance in class on Friday. Your defensive skills, when properly applied, never cease to amaze me. The quick shield you created when Goyle blasted that hole in the wall saved several students from serious injury. Please realize that in circumstances such as that, it is not a requirement that you do the spell non-verbally. The strength of the barrier you erected non-verbally, by sheer instinct it seemed, rivaled that of what many adult wizards can create verbally. I do apologize for taking points from you for the scratch that Miss Patil sustained on her cheek from the debris that got through before your shield went up. I must also apologize for awarding points to Goyle for the strength of this blasting spell, ill-aimed as it was.
One small question, now that I am thinking of it. I never observed before that Weasley suffered overly much from spots. Yet today he seemed to have quite a number of them, and they seemed to spell out "Arse" across his face. Have he and Miss Granger been at it again?
You asked about your mother's friend Beatrice. She moved to the States with her family soon after leaving Hogwarts. I would imagine she is alive and well with a family of her own.
I must devote significant space in this letter to the revelation you made in your last letter, indeed, one that I hardly believe you have kept to yourself all of these years. Slytherin, Harry? I must admit that I wondered, albeit briefly, how you went to Gryffindor considering the atmosphere in which you were raised. It is also obvious to me that you still maintain a deep dislike and mistrust of the House of Slytherin. I cannot say I do not understand, for I do. I think you are correct in your guess about my reaction had the hat actually called out "Slytherin" when you placed it on your head. I fully expected "Gryffindor," of course. Both your parents came from that house and for all I knew, you had been raised with full knowledge of that and a glorification of your father's exploits. One thing I will say, Harry, is that had you gone to Slytherin, there would have been no going back to the Dursleys every summer, for I would have certainly recognized your situation there for what it was. Would that have made your life any better? Any easier? I doubt it. I think that in Slytherin, those things you see in yourself that are similar to Tom Riddle would have developed more fully, risen to the top, so to speak. The need to prove yourself, to better your past, may have been insuppressible. Harry, think. You have Draco Malfoy to thank, do you now? Meeting him when you did made you bargain with the Sorting Hat, and ultimately earned you your rightful place in Gryffindor.
No need to drop hints about Christmas presents. I have already decided on yours. I had to have them specially made, but I used Sybill's seamstress. That's all I am saying.
Yes, Minerva and I have already scheduled out the holiday plans. You will return to the Burrow with your friends and I will pick you up there on Christmas Day. We will spend the next week or so at Shell Cottage. Minerva will join us on Christmas Evening and Boxing Day. I trust this plan will satisfy all of your needs?
You are getting a bit sneaky with your questions, Harry. I did not agree to answer questions about the Headmaster, though I do see that you are looking for my own perceptions of him. I will answer, but expect you to answer the same questions—from your perspective—in your return letter.
Albus Dumbledore's greatest strength is his capacity to love. His greatest weakness, to sacrifice what he loves for the Greater Good.
Reverse it now. Albus Dumbledore's greatest weakness is his capacity to love. His greatest strength is his ability to sacrifice what he loves for the Greater Good.
Which is it, Harry?
Regards,
Severus
/
It needed to be said. He convinced himself of it. Harry must know what he was up against.
Severus unrolled the chess parchment. His eyes widened. The boy was good—he had him in check and the loss of his white knight would hurt. He was going to have to find time to play this boy a real game on Christmas Day when he flooed to the Burrow to pick up Harry.
Severus smiled wryly. Ron didn't know what was coming.