Harry shuffled his feet as he waited on his chair at the end of potions class. Snape had reminded him to stay after class, but little did he know Harry didn’t need a reminder as he’d been worrying about it ever since his head of house told him that morning about the meeting. He worried what it would be about, and he worried which version of Snape he was going to encounter today.
The cruel Snape who had ridiculed Harry since he had been sorted into his house, or the surprisingly fair Snape who had finally seen the bullying and moved him out of the first-year dorms.
As the last student left the room, Harry could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he waited in silence for his professor to speak.
“Come take a seat at the front, Potter.” Snape drawled from his desk and Harry jumped up to follow his instruction quickly. “I do not wish to shout across the classroom like an unruly Gryffindor.”
Harry shuffled over and lowered himself on a seat near the Professor’s desk, perching on the edge. Snape’s eyes cast down to his hands fidgeting and Harry pulled his robes down self-consciously over the bruises Draco had given him the previous day. If Snape noticed them, he didn’t comment on it.
“Sir, did I do something wrong?” Harry finally asked hesitantly, biting down on his lip. He couldn’t handle the anticipation anymore.
Snape rolled his eyes. “Your essay on the properties of moondew was mediocre at best, but despite that, no Potter, I have not asked you here in order to berate you.” Snape sighed, putting his quill down to cast a stern look at Harry. “Unless you have something you’d like to confess?”
Harry shook his head quickly. “No Sir.” Snape hummed, his gaze still heavy on Harry.
“As your head of house, and after the recent events at Halloween, I merely wanted to enquire as to how you have found your new living arrangements.”
Harry was almost too stunned to respond. Snape? Caring about his wellbeing? It was almost unbelievable.
“Uh, it’s good.” Harry stuttered after Snape began to look impatient from lack of response.
“Good?” Snape repeated.
“That is- it’s much better than before. Sir.” Harry stumbled over his words.
“I trust you’ve had no further issues with Mr Malfoy then. Or your other previous dormmates?” Snape scrutinised.
Harry hesitated, his hand still twinging slighting from when Draco had stomped on it. Was there any use bringing it up? Exposing himself as weak to his head of house? He could practically hear Snape mocking him, saying he was playing the victim.
It was no use saying anything, he could handle it. And what would Snape do anyway?
“No sir.” He shook his head.
Snape paused and Harry squirmed slightly under his gaze. He wondered if Snape could see through his lie, he often thought the man could read minds.
“And you know that if they were to cause trouble for you again, you are to come straight to me. Is that clear?”
Harry gulped. The words Snape said sounded protective, but his tone made Harry think he was still angry. As if he’d be angry at Harry for provoking the boys if Harry ever came to him for help.
“Yes sir.” Harry replied dutifully.
“And your new dormmates, have they been agreeable?”
“Um, yes sir.” Harry replied truthfully. He’d had no problems with the fourth years, apart from a little intimidation from Blaise’s older brother Gideon at the start, but Lucas seemed to even enjoy Harry’s company, which was a first for Harry in Slytherin.
“I noticed you sat with Mr Moore this morning.” Snape mused, sitting back in his chair but continuing to study Harry. Harry nodded in response. “Perhaps you’d consider to continue sitting at the Slytherin table now, with your new dormmates.”
“You-you said I was allowed to sit at Gryffindor!” Harry accused. He loved sitting with his friends, he loved pretending he was a Gryffindor even just for meals. He loved pretending he belonged among them.
“You misunderstand me, Mr Potter.” Snape replied firmly. “I did indeed promise you could sit with your precious Gryffindor fan club if you please and I never break my promises.”
Harry looked blankly back at his professor, confused what he was getting at.
Snape heaved a sigh. “It was merely a suggestion. Perhaps every now and then you could socialise with your own house, especially now you have your new dormmates to accompany you.”
Harry remained silent. He liked the fourth years, but they intimidated him, and they were much older. He wasn’t sure how they’d react if he suddenly began hanging out with them. They wouldn’t want a first year, no less Harry Potter following them around.
“You still do not see yourself as a Slytherin, do you Mr Potter?” Snape asked, when Harry gave no response.
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “You said if I moved dorms, I could sit with my friends.”
“And you may.” Snape sounded exasperated. “It was a suggestion, not an instruction. Learn the difference.” He snapped.
Harry stayed quiet at the harsh tone and fidgeted with his sleeve again, feeling uncomfortable. It felt as if the Professor was angry with him.
“Spending some time with those in your own house may help you embrace it.” Snape said in a calmer voice after a pause. “Alas the choice is yours but all I ask is that you think about it.”
“Yes sir.” Harry mumbled. He didn’t see why Snape could care less if Harry embraced his house or not. Why did he care about Harry at all? He had no trouble ignoring his existence before Halloween, why all the fuss now? It was a little unnerving.
“I’m sure you have plenty of homework to get started on, so you are dismissed to the common room.” Snape waved his hand in dismissal, Harry let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.
“Yes sir.” Harry scrambled to pick up his bag and leave the potions classroom. In his haste, a few belongings fell out his bag, one of his books slid along the potions floor towards Professor Snape.
He reached down quickly to pick them up, he turned to reach of the book that slid away and gulped as he saw his professor reach for it first. From the snake illustration curling along the back and spine, Harry knew exactly which book had fallen from his grasp.
Snape inspected the cover as he slowly stood from his chair. He was more intimidating when he could tower over Harry. A note of surprise passed over the potion master’s face. “’The Peculiar Powers Presented Proceeding the Pursuit and Practise of Parceltongue.’” Snape recited from the cover.
It was a book Harry and Hermione found in the library during lunch. Although she had reservations from Ron and Neville’s comments, Hermione was still keen to help Harry research the newfound skill he had. Harry was grateful for the help, but now he felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment as his professor inspected it.
Harry reached for his book, but Snape moved so it was out of reach. The swift ease of which he held it from Harry made his heart accelerate with unease.
“A rather bizarre book to choose for casual reading, Mr Potter.” Snape drawled; he flicked lazily through the pages. “Care to explain?”
Harry nervously thought up an excuse as to why he owned it. Ron had said not to tell anyone else about his ability and that people wouldn’t respond well. But the Slytherin boys hadn’t thought that way, so perhaps it was safe to tell Snape, as head of Slytherin. But was it safe to tell Snape anything?
“I just wanted to learn more about it, is all.” Harry shrugged.
“Don’t to lie to me- “
“I’m not lying!” Harry exclaimed, feeling a random burst of boldness. “I do want to learn more about it. It’s because… well, I just found out that…um…I am one.”
His confession blurted out before he even realised, and he felt redness pour in his cheeks as Snape looked at him incredulously. Harry took a step back, mistaking Snape’s shock for anger.
“You’re a …parcelmouth?” Snape asked slowly, as if unsure he’d heard correctly.
“Well- I didn’t realise it was a thing until I was talking to Zach’s snake- Rocko – and everyone thought I was crazy! I thought all wizards could do it.” Harry nervously rambled on. “I mean, it only happened once before at the zoo, but all sorts of freaky things happened to me before Hogwarts and…“ Harry trailed off his nervous speech as he felt the stare of his potions master on him. He snuck a glance to see an unusual expression on his face.
“It is an incredibly rare gift, Mr Potter,” Snape uttered finally. “An extremely special gift too.”
“Lucas said that,” Harry said, a warm feeling expanding in his chest at the kind words. “But - Ron said- he said not to tell anyone. That-that it was dark...” Harry’s smile dropped and his voice trailed off at the end, his face feeling hot again in embarrassment.
He didn’t know why he was suddenly sharing this with Professor Snape of all people. He waited for the insult or snap that he didn’t care what his silly friends thought. To Harry’s surprise, it doesn’t come.
“All magic has the potential to be dark, Mr Potter,” Snape replied instead. “It is the intention of the witch or wizard that determines the nature of the magic itself.”
Harry didn’t quite understand but he nodded anyway. He reached up to take his book back from his professor who let him grab hold but gripped his hard so Harry couldn’t remove it, and was forced to look at his professor instead, as they both held onto the book.
“You know, Salazar Slytherin himself was a Parcelmouth.” Snape mused; Harry felt small as he was forced to stare back at his professor’s stern gaze. “If that is not proof you truly belong in Slytherin, then I do not know what is.”
Snape let go of the book and it fell gently into Harry’s grasp. He stared at the book, taking in Snape’s words.
Harry noticed Snape walking towards him and took another step back out of habit, but Snape seemed to be handing him his school bag instead, Harry took his satchel and put his parceltongue book safely back inside.
“You’re dismissed, Potter,” Snape said simply, returning to his desk and pulling out a stack of essays as if he had not been so gentle to him only seconds before.
Harry nodded; he didn’t need to be told twice. “Yes sir.”
He made his way back to the common room and into the fourth-year dorms. It was empty, the other boys must be out studying or socialising in the common room. Harry didn’t complain, he liked the silence and his own company.
He sat on his bed and pulled out his Parceltongue book again, Snape’s words echoing in his head. Was belonging in Slytherin house so bad? Lucas and the other boys hadn’t been the worst and Snape had been kinder lately. He just wasn’t sure he could trust it just yet though.
A glimmer of metal in his bag caught his eye as he flicked through his book, he grabbed his bag and pulled out a small round tin. He stared at it curiously, he didn’t remember seeing it before, where had it come from? Had Snape slipped it in his bag earlier without him noticing?
He turned the tin over in his hands and looked for a label.
Bruise balm remedy
Harry squinted to read the fine print beneath.
~Brewed and bottled by Professor S. Snape.
---
The November wind was cold and biting as Harry made his way back up to Hogwarts from Hagrid’s hut. Just minutes before, Harry was cosied by the fire in Hagrid’s hut, Fang curled up by his side and a mug of tea in his hands. Now, with only his robes for warmth, shivers shook his small body.
Most other students had winter coats and school hats and scarves, but Harry hadn’t thought to buy any winter things at Diagon Alley, so was stuck with only his robes. Ron had offered to give him one of his scarves, but Harry thought Snape might have a fit if he saw Harry sporting Gryffindor colours now as well as sitting at their table.
“Hey! Firstie!” Harry heard the familiar voice of his dormmate, Zach, calling him and turned around. He was accompanied by his other dormmate Manish, they both had their brooms with them and were heading to the quidditch field. “Over here!”
“Erm, hi,” Harry said, his teeth chattering as the boys approached him.
“You play quidditch?” Zach asked, with a grin.
Harry felt like laughing but instead just shook his head. The last time he had got on a broom it had ended very badly and resulted in lots of detentions. He wasn’t too keen to get back on one so soon, although he remembered the freeing feeling he felt when in the air and felt slightly giddy at the thought.
“You wanna learn?” Manish grinned, his breath could be seen in the cold air.
Harry shrugged. He did want to learn. But he was frozen to the bone, his muscles tense from the cold air surrounding him.
“Here, catch.” A coat was thrown his way and he caught it quickly out of surprise. Harry looked to see Lucas and Gideon, his other dormmates had joined them, with some other older Slytherins Harry didn’t know the names of. It made Harry feel small, but Lucas cast Harry a small encouraging smile, and gestured for him to put the coat on. Harry relished the soft, cosy fabric.
“Good reflexes, firstie,” Zach called, as Harry pulled on the coat. “You’d make a good seeker.”
“You know the rules?” Manish asked him, it felt more intimidating now they had an audience watching. It was too late to back out now, he didn’t want to get on the bad side of any other Slytherins or show he was weak.
“Um, not really,” Harry replied honestly. Their flying lesson had been interrupted and Ron had tried to explain a couple of times, but Harry always forgot to pay attention.
The other Slytherins began to play a game, Manish staying on the ground with Harry, pointing and explaining the rules. It seemed easier to understand when he could see them all playing, but still a little confusing. He didn’t really like the look of the bludgers, that’s for sure.
Harry was happy to stay on the ground and watch the game, he understood why Ron gushed about it so much now. But before he knew it, Manish was handing him a broom and gave him a shove to the pitch once the first game was over and told him he would play seeker, and search for the small, golden ball. Manish joined as a keeper.
Lucas was the seeker for the other team and gave Harry a wink as they flew into the sky on the whistle. The familiar rush in Harry’s ears was exhilarating. He was intimidated to be the youngest and newest player, but it also gave him a sense of being a part of something exciting. He didn’t win the first game; he was too distracted by the game to realise Lucas had ducked for the golden snitch before he was too late.
He worried his team would be disappointed in him, but they laughed and suddenly the game was beginning again, Harry was more alert this time and noticed the snitch quickly and angled his broom, then darted for it.
The wind rushed past his ears, and he grinned widely as his fingers clasped round the small golden ball and he heard cheers from his team as he dropped to the ground. Zach thumped him hard on the back and congratulated him, he almost stumbled from the impact but was grinning, nonetheless.
“You were brilliant.” Manish praised, a proud glint in his eye.
“Not bad for a beginner.” Lucas teased; Harry grinned back. His heart felt full, he felt proud, like he’d proven himself. “Don’t you agree, Flint?”
Harry saw one of the scarier older Slytherins look up at Lucas’ comment, he guessed this was Flint. He was playing the position he thought Manish labelled as a chaser.
“This is Marcus Flint,” Lucas introduced, pulling Harry forward towards Flint. “He’s the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team.”
“Yeah, you could give some of our players a run for their money, Potter. You should come to our practice sometime.” Flint shrugged, gulping some water from his bottle.
“As if a firstie would ever get on the house team?” Someone scoffed from behind them. Harry didn’t see who.
“It’s his second ever ride on a broom and he still flew better than you, Snyde.” Zach snapped back at the other Slytherin.
Harry felt his cheeks tinge at the praise and attention. Or maybe it was the cold.
Harry felt unexpectedly a part of the group as they made their way back to the common room, cheeks tinged pink from the cold. Harry noticed Draco and the other first-year boys sat in one of the corners and Draco cast him a dirty look, making Harry look away. He also noticed Snape lurking in the common room, talking with a seventh-year and handing him some books.
Zach flung an arm around his shoulder as they made their way through the common room. Harry jumped slightly, not expecting the contact but didn’t move away.
“We do those casual quidditch games every Thursday evening, but proper practice is on Saturdays.” He explained. “You’re joining us every Thursday from now on though, right firstie?”
“Uh, sure,” Harry said. His chest felt tight, and he tried to contain himself from jumping up and down from joy.
“Cool!” Zach left Harry as someone across the common room called his name, leaving Harry standing by himself, Lucas’s oversized coat still draping over his shoulders, and his cheeks flushed from the cold air outside.
“Potter.” Snape's voice sounded and Harry looked up to see his head of house beckoning him.
Harry shuffled over quickly, wondering if Snape was going to tell him off for playing quidditch with the older boys, or for wearing a coat inside or something else.
Instead, he lifted his hands expectantly as if Harry had something of his.
Harry stared back confused.
“Your hands,” Snape responded simply.
Harry felt his heart drop and he lifted his hands slowly, they were still covered by the coat Lucas gave him.
Snape snatched them quickly although not roughly and inspected them closely. Particular attention on his right where Draco had caused it to bruise days before.
The bruises had faded a lot since he had used the bruise balm he found in his bag. Or rather that Snape had seemingly snuck in his bag. They were hardly noticeable unless you were looking for them. Which Snape seemed to be.
“You’ve been using the bruise balm,” Snape said simply, still inspecting Harry’s hands in his.
“Yes- yes sir.” Harry stumbled at the confirmation that Snape had been the one to give Harry the balm, which meant he had noticed the bruises in their meeting. Was Snape going to be mad that he hadn’t told him about the injury when he met with him earlier in the week? “Th-thank you, sir.”
Snape hummed and dropped Harry’s hands but kept his gaze firmly on the boy. “Would you like to indulge where you acquired the bruises from?”
Harry bit his lip hard. He didn’t want to tell, but his eyes involuntarily cast over to where Draco sat chatting to the other Slytherin first years in a corner of the common room. Snape followed his gaze and his face hardened.
“And what part of you telling me immediately if you are to have any trouble, do you not understand.” Snape snapped harshly and Harry flinched slightly.
Harry cast his eyes down in shame.
“Any trouble, Mr Potter. Is. That. Clear?”
“Yes sir,” Harry mumbled, he snuck a glance to see Snape no longer looking at him but staring with furious eyes at Draco and the other boys, who seemed to have paled at the look from their Head of House.
“Do not make me remind you of this again.” Snape hissed and before Harry could respond he had swept away from the boy.
With a call from Lucas to follow them, Harry began to retreat to his dorm room, following the other fourth years. But he cast his eyes back quickly to glance at Snape storming towards the other first-year boys.
He did not look happy. Harry almost felt bad for them. Almost.
Chapter 14