Better Be Slytherin!

had brought Harry to ask the question in the first place. Did he believe the Headmaster, in refusing to get rid of Quirrell, was merely continuing the policy of being cavalier with his safety begun ten years ago, when he was left on the doorstep of those Muggles? Even more, though, he wanted to know what Harry would do with the answer to that question.

'Why do you want to know?' he asked again.

The corner of Harry's mouth lifted a bit further, into what could almost be a sneer. 'If I told you I just wanted to know who to thank, you wouldn't tell me, would you?'

'Perhaps not.' Severus leaned forward on his desk, to put additional weight on his words. 'Revenge is not the end you should be seeking at this time.'

'I'm not--'

'Listen!' He stared into the boy's emerald eyes. Harry must understand this. 'There's an old saying: La vengeance est un plat qui se mange froid. 'Vengeance is a dish best served cold.' You are currently reaching an awareness that your life was not all it could have been. Between the Dark Lord, your relatives, and a few select others, what could have been an idyllic childhood was wrenched from you. You have suffered, yes. You are furious and frustrated and want someone to blame.'

As Severus went on, he could see Harry tense. His hands clenched into fists, though he kept them in his lap. His shoulders were shaking from the strain. His eyes were green fire. Oh, yes, Severus' words were striking home. He just hoped he could pull the boy back before he did anything horrendously Gryffindorish.

'In such a state,' he said, in a low, clear tone that he had learned over the years was one that often mesmerized his students, 'your thinking is impaired by such extremes of emotion. You will make mistakes. Thus, your revenge will never be as complete, nor as sweet as you want it to be. It cannot. You cannot fully appreciate the fruits of your efforts while still caught up in your rage and distress.'

When Severus paused to let his words sink in, Harry nodded slowly. The fire in his eyes dampened to embers. 'But when I've . . . cooled down?'

'At that time, you will be more in control.'

For a long moment, Harry held Severus' gaze, but then he dropped his head to stare at his hands. His voice was soft, and void of emotion, as he said, 'But I was right. Professor Dumbledore left me with them.'

Severus let his silence answer for him. Then he sighed. 'To be fair, you had no other family. And your godfather had just been imprisoned. There was nowhere else for you to go.'

Harry's head came up with a jerk. 'I have a godfather?!'

Severus barely kept himself from growling. 'Yes.'

The boy frowned at the enmity contained in that one word, and Severus winced. He obviously had still not cooled enough -- if he were to come across bloody Sirius Black from some inconceivable reason -- to enact his own revenge against that cur.

'Who is he?'

Severus shook his head.

'You don't know him? I thought you said--'

'I don't wish to discuss it!'

The damnable Brat cocked his head to the side and considered him like a Cerberus considered a steak . . . or a Potion Master's leg. Then he nodded slowly, again, his face taking on his blank mask once more, after all Severus had done to dismantle it this evening. 'My apologies, Professor. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories.'