[From Samhain to the Solstice]: Chapter Six of 'Adagio'- Dark Gifts

[lomonaaeren]

“Good morning, Severus.”

Severus glanced up from the exam he was marking, blinking a little. He couldn’t remember the last time Minerva had come to visit his office during the end of term. Usually by then, her charges were finished with detentions and punishments for the nonce. “Yes, Minerva?”

“I wanted to ask if you knew why so many people think Mr. Potter is the Heir of Slytherin.”

Severus smiled a little. There was an answer, one that he had confirmed for himself after the conversation in which Harry had revealed his Parseltongue, but she would not like it. “They hate those who are different from what they expect.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Many of the students in this school expected Mr. Potter to be a Gryffindor,” Severus said, watching her closely, and absorbed her wince as the bolt went home with satisfaction. Many of the professors had, as well, and she was one of them. “They expected him to be loud and brash and Muggle-loving. That he is not strikes them as suspicious. And what is the most suspicious thing happening in this school at the moment?”

“Surely that is not enough—surely there must be some inciting incident—”

Without meaning to, Severus laughed. “And what was the inciting incident for the Marauders to decide I should be bullied to death?”

Minerva glanced away, a flush making its way down her cheeks. “You will never know how sorry I am that I did not handle Sirius Black more sternly, Severus. If I had, perhaps we would have known about his treacherous tendencies long before the events that orphaned Harry.”

Severus snorted, but let it go. He knew that she would never apologize for not restraining James Potter, not when he had turned into a hero.

But it was soothing, in some ways, to know that the man had left his son to Severus’s charge, and would not be able to prevent the boy from relying on Severus.

So he managed to say, “I did some quiet observation of my own after I noticed that students were blaming Mr. Potter. No one could name anything that made them suspicious of him in particular. I did, however, foil an attempt by Miss Granger to steal Potions ingredients from me.”

Minerva stared at him. “For what?”

“Polyjuice Potion. Apparently she and Mr. Weasley had some idea of trying to Polyjuice as two of my Slytherins and spy on Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter to figure out if one of them was the Heir.”

Minerva rarely became more than surface-level angry, but Severus watched with some satisfaction as she achieved the deeper state, looking as though she was about to grow fur specifically to raise it. “The foolish girl! You did not report this to me?”

Severus half-shrugged. “In truth, it was more than a month ago and I had forgotten it. And the way she cried when I scolded her made me unsure of whose side you would take.”

“Yours, of course.” Minerva turned around with a swish of her robe. “Miss Granger is staying for the holidays. It seems that we are overdue a conversation.”

Severus rolled his eyes slightly and used magic to flick his door shut behind her. Yes, Miss Granger’s plan had been foolish, but discovering her in the midst of the attempted theft had paid off when Severus could peer into her mind.

There truly was no reason they suspected Harry, other than that they thought he should have been marching around talking about the greatness of the Muggle world and searching for the Heir of Slytherin to punish them, if he could not be in red and gold.

Severus swept the incident from his mind, and bent over the exam instead. It appeared that Mr. Flint had mixed up moonstone and obsidian again.

If only the boy paid attention to something other than Quidditch.

*

“If I might speak with you, Severus?”

Severus had assumed, when Albus issued the invitation to his office, that it was about the latest Petrification, of Muggleborn Gryffindor Colin Creevey. He did not expect, when he opened the door, to see Mr. Potter sitting there.

Severus stepped in, his hands held calmly at his sides. “Good morning, Headmaster,” he said, and sat down in the seat nearer the desk, since Potter had taken the one further away. “Did you have questions for me about the Petrification?”

“I wanted to know if you were aware that Mr. Potter was a Parselmouth.”

“Yes, Headmaster. He told me a few weeks ago.”

Albus stared at Severus. Severus just looked back. He owed Albus much, and he had debts to repay to Lily that went deeper. But he did not owe Albus a discussion about every discussion he had with Potter.

For one thing, the volume of time he would have to spend talking to Albus would quickly become unwieldy.

“Is something wrong?” Severus added, as the silence stretched longer and longer. Potter had pushed his back against the chair, as far as he could get from Albus. Severus wished he could angle his body to protect the boy, but that would be far too obvious.

“I am disappointed in you, Severus.”

“I am sorry for that, Headmaster. May I ask why?” Severus did notice that Albus was using his first name in front of Potter, when usually he would use the Professor title.

“The Heir of Slytherin must be a Parselmouth.”

Severus hadn’t planned on it, but in some ways, that made the gesture more valuable: he laughed aloud. Albus sat up on the other side of the desk, and Severus knew him well enough to realize he was reaching for his wand.

Potter stared at him. Severus simply continued laughing. Then he cut himself off and made a little gesture so Albus wouldn’t actually curse him, but he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips.

“You thought Mr. Potter the Heir of Slytherin, Albus? Truly?”

“The Heir of Slytherin must be a Parselmouth,” Albus repeated. “It is the one kind of magic that reliably identifies Slytherin’s line.”

Because Severus had done a little more looking around since Potter had revealed the shocking truth about himself, he could easily shake his head and say, “Not true. In fact, there are several Parselmouth families in France, Belgium, and India. I did not have time to look at other countries, but it is certainly not unprecedented that a student who was not the Heir of Slytherin could have the gift.”

“You call it a gift.”

“Yes, I do.”

Albus remained silent. Severus didn’t roll his eyes, but he did want to. Albus had no reason to hate Parseltongue so intensely, except for its close association with the Dark Lord. He had been reasonable on the subject, as far as Severus knew, until the Dark Lord’s ascent.

Now he seemed to think that anything associated with the Dark Lord was tainted. He had even removed books from the library that the Dark Lord had checked out as a young man.

“Why, Severus?”

“Because it is so for many people, including the ones I investigated.” Severus shrugged at Albus’s look. He was being informal, perhaps, not using the Headmaster’s title, but Slytherins paid their debts. “It can be used in healing, in brewing, even as the component of a ritual in and of itself. I understand that it may not be so in Britain, but if you are accusing Mr. Potter of being the Heir of Slytherin based on his possession of Parseltongue and not his actions, I must wonder why.”

“I am saddened that you did not tell me immediately.”

“I was not aware that you wished me to do so,” Severus said blandly.

Albus narrowed his eyes, but it was certainly true that he had never told Severus to report on the presence of Parseltongue in a student. Why would he have? There was only one Parselmouth in Britain, to most people’s knowledge.

Now there were more. But Severus did not intend to leave the office and announce that, and he did not think Albus would, either. He might think Harry was the Heir, but he would not want his boy hero damaged.

And as became clear with the way that Harry gave flat answers to Albus’s questions—yes, he had always been able to talk to snakes; no, he didn’t know it was special; no, he hadn’t even known it was called Parseltongue until Severus told him—he didn’t crave publicity for his gift. He only wanted everything to go back to the way it had been, with the Headmaster virtually ignoring him.

Severus did wonder, as the interrogation continued and Albus finally had to admit that Harry had satisfactory alibis for all the Petrifications, if he didn’t notice the flat way Harry was looking at him.

Perhaps not.

When they left the office, Harry started to speak, but Severus just stared at him with one eyebrow up, and Harry seemed to grasp the unspoken warning about eavesdropping spells. He kept silent until they had walked a good distance from the gargoyle and Severus nodded.

“Why did he act like such a git about it?”

Severus restrained his laughter this time. “He does not understand you, Mr. Potter. He would be happier if he did.”

“But I’m not that hard to understand.”

Severus half-shrugged, while thinking that that was a lie. Unconscious or not? It was hard to tell. “I think he expected a very different child from you, and he has not reconciled himself yet to reality not matching his perceptions.”

“What do you think he expected me to be like, sir?”

“A Gryffindor, certainly. More reckless, less inclined to be self-contained. Someone who has more friends. Not a Parselmouth. Not someone inclined to trust me.”

“Even though he claims to trust you?”

Severus turned to face Harry, who was staring up into his eyes with the same intense, lambent gaze he had used when he was confessing he was a Parselmouth. Severus had to swallow back a surge of discomfort.

Lily, when you look at me through his eyes, it’s so hard to master myself.

“Yes,” Severus said simply. “Given my rivalry with your father and his friends, and that the Headmaster thought you would be in Gryffindor, I know that he anticipated distance between us.”

“That’s stupid, sir. You’re the most like me of any of the professors here.”

Severus had difficulty swallowing this time. In the end, he inclined his head and said, “Perhaps those similarities are more difficult to see for someone more distant from the matter than—we are.”

“Perhaps they are. Thank you, sir.”

And Harry turned away and walked towards the Slytherin common room. Severus watched him for a moment before he shook his head and turned on his own heel.

He did not understand everything, either. If someone had told him—if Lily had told him—that someday he would understand James Potter’s son better than Albus, Severus would have laughed.

But it was true. As long as Severus kept in mind that he did not know everything, and that Potter was not showing him everything, either, then he should be fine.