Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Chapter 2

Harry swung his legs back and forth and looked around the quiet library again. He was starting to get bored.

Himself and Professor Sprout had spent the last couple of hours in the otherwise empty library, practicing his spelling.

It was going well, and Harry was fairly proud of the fact he now had ‘wizard’, ‘witch’ and even ‘wand’ down. And then Professor Sprout had received an urgent call – something had happened in the greenhouse and she needed to check on her latest crop of mandrakes immediately.

So she had left, giving Harry strict instructions to stay in the library and carry on practicing his writing until she returned.

There was nothing wrong with that – Daddy let him stay in the library and even the Great Hall sometimes.

But it felt like Professor Sprout had been gone for ages, and Harry was starting to grow tired of writing practice.

Besides, if he didn’t use the bathroom soon, he was going to be in trouble.

Hopping down from his chair, Harry wandered across to the main entrance of the library, peering out into the empty corridor.

There was no sign of Professor Sprout, and Harry figured he could probably make it to the bathroom and get back to the library before she returned.

Slipping out into the corridor, Harry hurried down the corridor toward the boy’s bathroom.

They were his least favourite ones in the school – they were always cold, and quite frankly, they gave him the creeps.

So Harry didn’t hang around, except to wash his hands of course – for twenty seconds, just like Daddy had taught him.

He had just turned off the tap when there was a loud pop behind him,  and Harry jumped out of his skin, catching his own reflection in the mirror before another figure appeared behind him.

 “Itty bitty baby all alone in the boy’s’es bathrooms!” it cackled.

Recovering from the initial shock, Harry exhaled.

He liked all of the ghosts in the castle, except for Peeves. He had never been fond of the poltergeist, whose antics – although sometimes funny – were more often than not downright rude and borderline vindictive. In fact, in the time since Harry had arrived at Hogwarts, the little man hadn’t been very nice to  him at all.

 “Leave me alone, Peeves,” the boy said bravely, just how Daddy had told him to after his first run in with the poltergeist over a year ago.  Harry still remembered it clearly – he had run into his Daddy’s arms and sobbed, terrified of the horrible spectre.

He wished his Daddy was there now, too.

 “What are you doing here all on your own, potty wee Potter?” Peeves demanded, floating closer to the child.

 Harry tried to ignore him, reaching up for a paper towel to dry his hands.

 “Where’s old snippety, slippery Snapey?” the poltergeist asked.

 “Teaching extra potions to Dean Fletcher,” he muttered, tossing the paper towel into the bin.

 “Poor baby Potter! Or is it Snape? Alone in the bathrooms, all bent out of shape! His new Daddy’s left him! Left him for dead! Daddy’s got a new son, a big boy instead!” Peeves sang, following Harry across the bathroom.

 “SHUT UP!” Harry shouted, stepping back out into the corridor and slamming the bathroom door behind him.

It didn’t do any good, of course – Peeves simply floated right through it, laughing like a maniac.

 “Did Peevesy hit a nerve, potty wee Potter?” he called.

Harry stomped back towards the library, ignoring the angry tears that were welling up in his eyes. The thing that he hated most about Peeves was the fact that the poltergeist was always able to figure out what he was thinking,  and had a fantastic ability of using it against him.

 “Your Daddy’s not your Daddy! He’s Dumbly’s puppet toy! Now he doesn’t want you, he prefers that bigger boy!” Peeves sang, hot on his heels.

 “I’m a big boy too!” Harry cried, furiously.

 “Potty’s just a baby! Peevesy heard it for himself! Daddy said he’s more annoying than a stupid housey elf!” Peeves taunted. “Daddy’s sending Potty back! Peevesy ought to know! Back to the muggles, in the cupboard you go!”

Harry stopped, turning to face the poltergeist again.

 “That’s not true! He didn’t say that…” he told Peeves, uncertainly.

 “Yes he did! Potty better run! Going back to the muggles won’t be much fun!”

His worst fears realised, Harry did exactly that – taking off down the corridor as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Daddy didn’t want him anymore. Daddy had grown tired of having a whiney little boy – he wanted a bigger boy, one who was a prefect and was really good at potions.

His relatives wouldn’t be pleased to see him, Harry thought, as he ran across the courtyard towards the astronomy tower, ignoring the snow falling thick and fast around him. They wouldn’t want him back – would they be as unkind as they had been previously? Perhaps worse?

They certainly wouldn’t read to him before bed, the boy realised, tearing down the rugged steps as Hagrid’s hut came into view in the distance.

Slipping on the ice, Harry tumbled several steps and landed hard on his hands and knees. He choked back a sob, examining the heels of his hands – bloodied and covered in dirt.

But he scrambled up and hobbled on. There was no use in crying. Daddy didn’t want him anymore, so he wouldn’t come and heal the cuts.  

The snow had already soaked him to the bone, and he had become very aware of the fact he wasn’t wearing his coat. But what did that matter now?

Harry continued down the slope, enveloped in his own misery. What if he was sick, and his Daddy wasn’t there to make him potions? What if he awoke from a nightmare, and he couldn’t get back to sleep? What would he do, now that he didn’t have Daddy to hold him and keep him safe?

He couldn’t go back to his Aunt’s house. He just couldn’t. He needed to hide out somewhere until he figured out what to do next.

Ignoring the numbness in his legs and the sharp pain in his side, Harry ran faster, past Hagrid’s hut and towards the Forbidden Forrest.

oOoOoOo


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