Bright Green Eyes and Little White Lines by MellarkandArt

The boy was a menace. Or, well, he was supposed to be.

Severus hated being wrong.

Even more than that, he hated admitting that he was wrong. Usually, he could just ignore it and go on about his day, but this time his guilty conscience obviously wasn’t going to allow him that privilege.

It had started with the welcoming feast, as all the children gathered around looking for the child that was Harry Potter, who didn’t look much like was expected. His face was his father’s, of course, but his father had never been quite so scrawny and bashful looking. The word bashful hadn’t even been in James’ vocabulary.

Regardless of his appearance, though, Severus was certain that he still shared the key traits with James. He was the famed Boy Who Lived, after all. Arrogance was a given, entitlement was guaranteed.

Then he was sorted into Slytherin.

The hat had hardly hesitated before bellowing out the placement, and Severus had known for a decade that the day would be a horrible one, but he never could have imagined just how badly the tables could turn and still be a terrible outcome.

Harry Potter was a snake now, and not just any snake; one of Severus’ snakes, and if nothing else, Severus always did right by his snakes.

Dammit.

***

It was strange, to say the least, to see it in a child so young, suffering so much.

A child whom Severus and the majority of the wizarding world had thought to be a spoilt prince with a heart beating contemptibly.

Severus hated being wrong.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’m not an imbecile, Albus,” Severus hissed. Severus had seen too much in his lifetime to not see the signs of it now.

They were too exact, too precise not to be what he thought. The scars were clearly intentional, and the one in particular…

“Perhaps you should talk to him about it, then.”

Severus scowled. “It would be greatly appreciated if you would stop trying to thrust us together. I can barely tolerate the boy as it is.”

“Well I hardly think that he’s likely to take advice from a grandfatherly old man, and besides, you are his head of house, are you not?”

“Yes,” Severus ground out, teeth gnashing. “I am.”

“One would assume, then, that it would be your… responsibility. Perhaps in more ways than one.”

Albus Dumbledore was the most unbelievable person in the entire universe. He could play nice to the public all he wanted, but Severus had been in the crossfires of his oh-so-subtle punches to the gut often enough.

He left the headmaster’s office with a glare.

***

“Potter,” Severus drawled once he’d dismissed his first years’ potions class. “Stay behind.”

The boy was a shaky thing, no doubt. Obedient, though. He came up to Severus’ desk, school bag clutched tightly against his chest. “Professor?” he inquired in a whisper. Severus hadn’t ever heard him speak in any higher tone yet.

“Sit,” Severus said, gesturing towards a stool at the front of the classroom. The boy obeyed without question, of course, and Severus took a moment to pretend that he was actually reading something on his desk before rising and coming to stand next to Potter. He considered the threat of his height for only a moment before deciding to sit down on the stool next to him.

“How are you adjusting to Hogwarts?”

Potter’s eyebrows furrowed. “I- Alright, I suppose. It’s nice here.”

Severus nodded. He imagined it was likely a lot better than where the boy had come from. The muggle raised tended to think so, though there was probably more to it than that in this particular case.

“Have you been getting along with your housemates?”

Potter nodded. “Yes, sir. They- they’re nice enough.”

Severus raised his eyebrows. “Nice enough?”

Potter shrugged. “I mean it’s not like we’re instant best friends or anything, but I wouldn’t expect or even want that, anyway.”

“I see.”

“Um, sir,” Potter said after an awkward moment, quiet as ever. “Why, uh… why are you asking me all this?”

Severus brushed his hair out of his face, dreading what was to come. This was always his least favorite part of the job, even more so now with it being this particular child. “I am your head of house, I’m sure that you are aware. Therefore it is in fact my duty to see to your wellbeing. Which brings us to the main point.”

Severus let out a resigned sigh before slowly reaching out a hand to the boy, taking his right wrist. Potter flinched, regardless of intent, eyes growing as wide as saucers. “Wha- what are you doing?”

Severus did not relent, pushing down Potter’s sleeve with no real effort as they were rather large on his arms. Perhaps that was how he’d seen the marks in the first place.

“I have noticed these markings on your arm a few times now. Would you like to tell me about them?”

Potter gave him a look mixed with fear and incredulousness. Do you think I want to tell you about them?

“Er, no thanks, sir,” Potter voiced it more politely than he probably wanted to, breaking free of his grasp and pulling his sleeve back down.

Severus barely refrained himself from snorting. It was hardly appropriate in this situation. “Perhaps you misunderstood my question. It was not a request.”

Potter nervously pushed his glasses up against his face. Absently, Severus took note of how banged up they appeared to be. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

It wasn’t as though Severus knew what he wanted him to say, either. Stupid children and their expectancy of adults to know everything. “I think you and I both know how you received those marks. I suppose my main question would be why?”

Those green eyes seem to become quite fiery all of a sudden. Maybe this boy wasn’t quite so meek after all. “I don’t think that it’s really any of your business, to be completely honest with you, sir.”

Severus bit down on his tongue, hard. He hadn’t blown up at the boy yet, and he wasn’t going to start with it now. “It is my business because, as I said before, I am your head of house, therefore making you my responsibility. I am simply concerned is all.”

“You don’t seem very concerned to me,” Potter sniffed, chin up in the typical James Potter fashion. Irritating. “I get it, it’s your job, but you really don’t have to worry about it.”

Severus did snort, then. “I think it is rather sweet how you think you can get out of this. You may be a Slytherin, boy, but you’re still a child. You’re not the one in control here.”

Potter seemed to shrink back into himself, head bowed again. He’d clearly hit a nerve somewhere.

“But perhaps that’s what this is about, hm? Being in control? Because you lack it otherwise?”

“I really don’t understand what there’s to talk about,” Potter muttered.

“You are an eleven-year-old child hurting himself. I think there’s an awful lot to unpack there.”

“It never matters when someone else is hurting me, so why does it matter if I’m the one doing it?”

Severus paused his thoughts, looking over the boy. It wasn’t the first time it’d crossed his mind. “It matters to me,” he said after a moment.

Potter rolled his eyes, in the exhausted way of someone who had heard it all before.

“Who hurts you, then, Potter? Besides yourself, that is.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Potter asked, snidely. “Run crying to my aunt and uncle just for them to convince you I deserve it?”

So it was the relatives, then. “Do I really appear the type to “run crying” to you, Mr. Potter?” Severus asked with a smirk.

Potter rolled his eyes again, this time with a small smile on his lips. “I suppose not.”

“What’s stopping you, then?”

“Teachers always want me to tell them about the Dursleys, but it never changes anything. Usually just makes it worse. I can learn a lesson, you know, I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were,” Severus lied. Well, he hadn’t thought the boy was stupid much since meeting him. It wasn’t ever really a serious accusation, however, as he reluctantly remembered how intelligent the elder Potter was. And Lily, of course.

Potter hummed, in a way meant to humor him as he pulled on the hems of his sleeves. “Alright. Am I in trouble?”

Severus raised his eyebrows in question. “Why would you be in trouble?”

“You don’t like me,” Potter pointed out matter of factly.

Severus would have sputtered, if he were someone else. As it was, he merely smirked. “Is that so?”

Potter smirked right back at him in lieu of a response.

“Well, you’re not in trouble,” Severus decided. “You’re simply in need of guidance.”

“Oh joy,” Potter snarked. “Will it be the psych ward, then? Do wizards have those?”

“I’ve no intention of sending you there,” Severus mused darkly. Wizards and muggles alike were rather unaccepting of such… delicate matters. “But I also can’t allow you to continue with this sort of behavior, obviously.”

Potter gave him another one of those looks, this one saying and you think you’re going to stop me?

“I’m always available to… talk, if you wish…” Severus stated, possibly reaching the height of uncomfortable.

Potter snorted. “I don’t think that either of us wishes for that, sir.”

The child was impossible. “Be that as it may,” Severus grated, “if you refuse to speak to your head of house about it, then I will have no choice but to report your… issues to Madam Pomfrey. And I can assure you that she will not take no for an answer.”

Potter glared. “Are you blackmailing me, then?”

“I’m giving you an ultimatum. I have a hard time seeing it as blackmail, exactly…”

“Well, I don’t. I don’t wanna talk to you or anyone about it. It’s none of your business,” Potter boldly declared once again.

Severus did snort, then. “I think you’ll come to find that there are very few things that aren’t my business. This matter in particular directly falls directly into my vicinity. So, make your choice.”

Severus could tell that Potter was biting the insides of his cheeks, rather hard. It was a moment before he spoke again. “What do you want to know?”

“I do believe I asked why.”

Potter shrugged. “Why not?”

Merlin save him from irritating children. Or perhaps save the children from him, because every day he came closer to breaking his restraint to strangle them. It was not a good quality for a teacher to have. “Because it won’t solve any of your problems.”

“Respectfully, sir, I have to disagree with you.”

“Yes, you are the epiphany of respect, aren’t you?” Severus responded sarcastically. “It might help you a little now, but in the long run you’ll only find yourself with more problems.”

“Sounds like a problem for future me.”

This was just about as aggravating as having a discussion with the headmaster. It was getting old fast. “So, that’s it, then?” You’re just going to keep on cutting yourself until you run out of space?”

“Well, I am quite resourceful. I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“Potter,” Severus hissed at last. “Do you have any concept of how serious of an issue this is?”

The boy truly was all bark and no bite. It was almost fascinating to watch him go back and forth between snarkiness and meekness. “I understand that it’s not normal… I’ve always been a bit freaky, though.”

Severus scowled. “That is not the issue. It doesn’t matter how common of a problem it is, it does not make you a freak… But it’s not something to be ignored, either. Do you realize how dangerous of a habit this is? You could seriously hurt yourself.”

“I know,” Potter muttered. “I’m not trying to do that though. It’s honestly fine.”

Severus took the boy’s arm again, not caring much for his personal space at this point. He pushed the sleeve down again to point out a particular scar, a long one running down the center of his wrist in the opposite direction of the others. “And what of this one?”

Even Potter seemed discomfited now. “Oh, well, that was just a mistake. I know that now.”

“And you didn’t at the time?”

“Well, obviously not,” Potter responded irritably. “I thought I wanted it, but I was wrong.”

“And what changed your mind?”

Potter sighed. “I’m not even sure that I meant to do it, even. It was stupid. I didn’t know that I was a wizard, then, either. I suppose I’d never known that if I’d offed myself, now would I?”

“So you’re saying that things do indeed get better with time?”

“I’m not trying to write poetry, no,” Potter was back to being snarky. “I’m just saying that I’m not upset that I’m not dead is all.”

“What happens when you make another mistake like that, this time more serious? This kind of coping mechanism comes with some extreme risks.”

Potter pulled his arm back, wrapping it around his stomach along with the other one. “I know.”

“And? Do you not care at all?”

“Of course I care. But it’s not… I… I just need it. It keeps me sane. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Severus questioned darkly, regretting his next move before the action was even complete. Thrusting up his own sleeve, he presented his own display of scars to the boy.

Potter looked shocked, and more than a little disturbed by the sight. “Y-you..?”

“Yes,” Severus said briskly, only allowing another moment of gawking before fixing his sleeve back. “So I can tell you from experience; it won’t help you in the end.”

Potter bit his lip and cast his eyes away. Good, Severus hated looking at them. “I know you don’t believe me. But perhaps it’ll give you something to think about.” Severus stood from the stool, going over to his desk to retrieve a vial of potion for the boy.

“I’ve noticed you picking at your food in the Great Hall on several occasions,” Severus said, placing the vial on the table in front of Potter. “This should help.”

“What is it, sir?” Potter asked, hesitantly lifting his head and picking up the vial.

“It’s an appetite stimulant. Purposeful starvation is another form of self harm that I won’t tolerate.”

Potter nodded slightly, putting the vial in his pocket. “So. What’s my punishment?”

“I already told you that you weren’t in trouble.”

“I can just leave, then?” Potter asked, disbelieving. “Don’t you want to, I dunno, talk or something?”

Severus studied him for a moment. “I believe we’ve discussed enough for today. Perhaps take some time to reflect and come to my office whenever you’re ready to talk more.”

“And if I don’t?” Potter asked.

“Then I shall find you, rest assured. Run along, now.”

It was maybe a bit unorthodox, but Severus knew better than anyone that suffocation was not the answer to the problem. Surveillance and restrictions would do more harm than good at this point. The Slytherin dorms had anti self harm wards in place as a precaution anyway, which comforted him slightly. He doubted that the boy had even hurt himself since he’d been at Hogwarts.

There was plenty more than needed to be dealt with, therapy and Dursleys included, but everything else could be dealt with in the future. The first step was the most important one.

The boy made to leave, quiet footsteps echoing in the dungeon.

“And, Potter,” Severus spoke up before he could open the door. “I don’t… dislike you.”

“You don’t like me, though,” Potter stated rather than asked.

Severus rolled his eyes, hardly in the mood to placate the demon spawn and his feelings. “No, I don’t.”

“Good,” Potter smiled impishly. “That means I don’t have to worry about trying to make myself like you in return.”

Severus opened his mouth to respond, affronted, but the cheeky brat was already gone. He turned back to his desk, annoyed, but not as much as he’d expected. He shook his head.

The boy was a menace.