lomonaaeren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lomonaaeren) wrote2024-10-31 11:28 am
lomonaaeren) wrote2024-10-31 11:28 am
Entry tags:
[From Samhain to the Solstice]: Chapter One of 'Adagio'- Difficult
Title: Adagio
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Background references to James/Lily and unrequited Snape/Lily, otherwise gen
Content Notes: AU (Slytherin Harry), angst, bullying, violence, short scenes, Death Eater Harry, Dark magic, minor character deaths
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. Severus Snape does not want to mentor the Boy-Who-Lived, but it seems inevitable when Potter is placed into his House. As the years pass and Potter turns darker and darker, Severus wonders whether he succeeded or failed.
Author’s Notes: This is part of my “From Samhain to the Solstice” series, for a prompt by NewMidnightBlueJay, which is essentially the summary. It will be posted with a scene or a few scenes daily until it finishes with the solstice. The title means a slow tempo in music.
Adagio
Severus had assumed that his life would become more difficult when Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. After all, he would have to see the living reminder of his own mistakes and Potter’s hatred and Lily’s choices every day. And Potter would probably dash into danger as a brave Gryffindor so often that Severus would have to—
“SLYTHERIN!”
Severus wasn’t the only one staring as Potter took the Hat off and looked around uncertainly before trotting over to join the Slytherin House table. He sat at the very end, not responding to what looked like a sneer from Draco, and kept his head down as he picked at his robes.
Well, Severus thought, and tapped his wand against the side of his goblet to conjure water, then again to change it to Firewhisky, completely ignoring the disapproving stare from Albus as he did so.
Difficult in a way that he had not assumed.
*
“When were you going to tell me about this, Mr. Potter?”
Severus would have liked to sound unpleasant or scolding. Anything but resigned, as he stared at Harry Potter wearing robes that had been slashed almost to ribbons by precise applications of the Cutting Curse.
Severus knew the boy had not done it on his own. Severus himself could not have used magic like that as a first-year, and Potter’s son was a long way behind Severus in strength and studiousness.
Potter looked up at him, blinking. There was no one else in the corridor outside the Slytherin common room, and his face looked odd in the low-burning light of the torches. “You said not to bother you with minor matters, sir. And Malfoy said—” He cut himself off.
“Yes? Mr. Malfoy said what?” Severus asked, as he traced his wand in the precise motions of a silent Reparo. The wonder on Potter’s face as the slashes began to repair themselves made something in his chest clench. Who had raised the boy, that such minor magic was cause for this emotion? Severus could not personally think of anyone who had been that strict about underage magic.
“He said that you were friends with his father and you wouldn’t do anything no matter what he did to me.”
“Mr. Malfoy did not cast these spells, Mr. Potter.”
Potter’s eyes flashed once, and then his face smoothed out. “No, sir. I was practicing, and I accidentally put too much power into my spells. I don’t know why I said that Malfoy cast these spells. Sorry, sir.”
Severus stared at him. Of course, Potter’s eyes were an open book, and he skimmed easily through the boy’s mind to find Marcus Flint casting the spells—where was the boy’s application in classes, Severus wondered—and Draco laughing at Potter about it.
“Do not attempt to lie to me, Mr. Potter.”
“I’m not, sir.”
“You are. Badly. Why did you attempt it?”
Potter stared at him in turn. His voice was silent, but his mind told the truth: once Severus had said that Draco hadn’t actually cast the Cutting Curses, then Potter had decided that meant Severus disbelieved him entirely.
Severus sighed. “I was not saying that he did not taunt you about it, Mr. Potter, merely that he was not the one who cast the actual spells. You can rest assured that Mr. Flint will be punished and Mr. Malfoy will receive notice of my displeasure.”
“What? Why, sir?”
Severus paused and looked at him. Potter blinked, and his mind was full of flashes of what must be Muggle teachers shaking their heads and turning away from Potter, who stared at them with mute eyes.
“Because it is what I do as your Head of House,” Severus said, and then added, so that the realization of who Potter must have been raised by didn’t show in his voice, “Remember that you are not to take advantage of my good nature. And it will be up to you to make peace with your roommates, ultimately, so that they do not do this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Severus wondered about the tone in Potter’s voice as he sent him back to the Slytherin common room. He hadn’t heard the relief he would have expected Potter to have at knowing a professor was on his side.
Later, Severus knew he should have taken warning from that.
*
“Do you know why you have this detention, Mr. Potter?”
“Yes, sir.”
Severus waited, but Potter simply stood in the middle of his office with his head bowed a little and his eyes darting to the cauldrons and the potions and the preserved, pickled remains on the shelves. Severus sighed and gave in to the inevitable. “Then tell me why, in your own words, you believe you have this detention, Mr. Potter.”
“Because I got caught dumping that Bubotuber pus in Malfoy’s cauldron.”
Severus paused. It wasn’t entirely the answer he had expected. “Because you put the pus in.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That is not what you said. You said that you got caught putting in the Bubotuber pus.”
“Yes, sir.” Potter’s head rose, and his eyes were so big and innocent that Severus could see in an instant why Pomona thought he was “such a nice little boy,” a compliment she didn’t often bestow on Slytherins. “If I hadn’t been caught, you wouldn’t have known about it, and you wouldn’t have assigned me a detention.”
Severus leaned back against his desk. “So you think that doing such things is fine as long as you don’t get caught?”
“Why wouldn’t it be, sir? You didn’t get upset last week when Malfoy put doxy eggs in Weasley’s cauldron. He didn’t get caught, or you chose to ignore it. In fairness, the way Weasley’s potion turned out wasn’t that different from the way it would have without the doxy eggs.”
Severus pinched his nose. “Mr. Potter, you should not adulterate other students’ potions.”
“Yes, sir. Did you give Malfoy that same speech?”
“That is not—Mr. Potter, you know the expectations for you are different. You know that the eyes on you are different.”
“Yes, sir. It means that I need to be a lot more careful about what I get caught with.”
Severus shook his head. In truth, he had no desire to give Potter a speech about morality. “You got caught. Next time, choose some ingredient that doesn’t make the potion foam over the lip of the cauldron.”
“Yes, sir.”
Potter made no objection to doing the lines that Severus set him to writing, which were about not injuring fellow students. Only later did Severus realize how literally Potter had taken his words, when he was confronting the massive boils all over Lavender Brown, who had been the loudest about how Potter’s Sorting meant he was “betraying” his parents.
Severus was far more disturbed to realize that he hadn’t seen Potter alter Brown’s ingredients at all.
He wondered if he should also be proud.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Background references to James/Lily and unrequited Snape/Lily, otherwise gen
Content Notes: AU (Slytherin Harry), angst, bullying, violence, short scenes, Death Eater Harry, Dark magic, minor character deaths
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. Severus Snape does not want to mentor the Boy-Who-Lived, but it seems inevitable when Potter is placed into his House. As the years pass and Potter turns darker and darker, Severus wonders whether he succeeded or failed.
Author’s Notes: This is part of my “From Samhain to the Solstice” series, for a prompt by NewMidnightBlueJay, which is essentially the summary. It will be posted with a scene or a few scenes daily until it finishes with the solstice. The title means a slow tempo in music.
Adagio
Severus had assumed that his life would become more difficult when Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. After all, he would have to see the living reminder of his own mistakes and Potter’s hatred and Lily’s choices every day. And Potter would probably dash into danger as a brave Gryffindor so often that Severus would have to—
“SLYTHERIN!”
Severus wasn’t the only one staring as Potter took the Hat off and looked around uncertainly before trotting over to join the Slytherin House table. He sat at the very end, not responding to what looked like a sneer from Draco, and kept his head down as he picked at his robes.
Well, Severus thought, and tapped his wand against the side of his goblet to conjure water, then again to change it to Firewhisky, completely ignoring the disapproving stare from Albus as he did so.
Difficult in a way that he had not assumed.
*
“When were you going to tell me about this, Mr. Potter?”
Severus would have liked to sound unpleasant or scolding. Anything but resigned, as he stared at Harry Potter wearing robes that had been slashed almost to ribbons by precise applications of the Cutting Curse.
Severus knew the boy had not done it on his own. Severus himself could not have used magic like that as a first-year, and Potter’s son was a long way behind Severus in strength and studiousness.
Potter looked up at him, blinking. There was no one else in the corridor outside the Slytherin common room, and his face looked odd in the low-burning light of the torches. “You said not to bother you with minor matters, sir. And Malfoy said—” He cut himself off.
“Yes? Mr. Malfoy said what?” Severus asked, as he traced his wand in the precise motions of a silent Reparo. The wonder on Potter’s face as the slashes began to repair themselves made something in his chest clench. Who had raised the boy, that such minor magic was cause for this emotion? Severus could not personally think of anyone who had been that strict about underage magic.
“He said that you were friends with his father and you wouldn’t do anything no matter what he did to me.”
“Mr. Malfoy did not cast these spells, Mr. Potter.”
Potter’s eyes flashed once, and then his face smoothed out. “No, sir. I was practicing, and I accidentally put too much power into my spells. I don’t know why I said that Malfoy cast these spells. Sorry, sir.”
Severus stared at him. Of course, Potter’s eyes were an open book, and he skimmed easily through the boy’s mind to find Marcus Flint casting the spells—where was the boy’s application in classes, Severus wondered—and Draco laughing at Potter about it.
“Do not attempt to lie to me, Mr. Potter.”
“I’m not, sir.”
“You are. Badly. Why did you attempt it?”
Potter stared at him in turn. His voice was silent, but his mind told the truth: once Severus had said that Draco hadn’t actually cast the Cutting Curses, then Potter had decided that meant Severus disbelieved him entirely.
Severus sighed. “I was not saying that he did not taunt you about it, Mr. Potter, merely that he was not the one who cast the actual spells. You can rest assured that Mr. Flint will be punished and Mr. Malfoy will receive notice of my displeasure.”
“What? Why, sir?”
Severus paused and looked at him. Potter blinked, and his mind was full of flashes of what must be Muggle teachers shaking their heads and turning away from Potter, who stared at them with mute eyes.
“Because it is what I do as your Head of House,” Severus said, and then added, so that the realization of who Potter must have been raised by didn’t show in his voice, “Remember that you are not to take advantage of my good nature. And it will be up to you to make peace with your roommates, ultimately, so that they do not do this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Severus wondered about the tone in Potter’s voice as he sent him back to the Slytherin common room. He hadn’t heard the relief he would have expected Potter to have at knowing a professor was on his side.
Later, Severus knew he should have taken warning from that.
*
“Do you know why you have this detention, Mr. Potter?”
“Yes, sir.”
Severus waited, but Potter simply stood in the middle of his office with his head bowed a little and his eyes darting to the cauldrons and the potions and the preserved, pickled remains on the shelves. Severus sighed and gave in to the inevitable. “Then tell me why, in your own words, you believe you have this detention, Mr. Potter.”
“Because I got caught dumping that Bubotuber pus in Malfoy’s cauldron.”
Severus paused. It wasn’t entirely the answer he had expected. “Because you put the pus in.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That is not what you said. You said that you got caught putting in the Bubotuber pus.”
“Yes, sir.” Potter’s head rose, and his eyes were so big and innocent that Severus could see in an instant why Pomona thought he was “such a nice little boy,” a compliment she didn’t often bestow on Slytherins. “If I hadn’t been caught, you wouldn’t have known about it, and you wouldn’t have assigned me a detention.”
Severus leaned back against his desk. “So you think that doing such things is fine as long as you don’t get caught?”
“Why wouldn’t it be, sir? You didn’t get upset last week when Malfoy put doxy eggs in Weasley’s cauldron. He didn’t get caught, or you chose to ignore it. In fairness, the way Weasley’s potion turned out wasn’t that different from the way it would have without the doxy eggs.”
Severus pinched his nose. “Mr. Potter, you should not adulterate other students’ potions.”
“Yes, sir. Did you give Malfoy that same speech?”
“That is not—Mr. Potter, you know the expectations for you are different. You know that the eyes on you are different.”
“Yes, sir. It means that I need to be a lot more careful about what I get caught with.”
Severus shook his head. In truth, he had no desire to give Potter a speech about morality. “You got caught. Next time, choose some ingredient that doesn’t make the potion foam over the lip of the cauldron.”
“Yes, sir.”
Potter made no objection to doing the lines that Severus set him to writing, which were about not injuring fellow students. Only later did Severus realize how literally Potter had taken his words, when he was confronting the massive boils all over Lavender Brown, who had been the loudest about how Potter’s Sorting meant he was “betraying” his parents.
Severus was far more disturbed to realize that he hadn’t seen Potter alter Brown’s ingredients at all.
He wondered if he should also be proud.