Better Be Slytherin!

wanted it for Harry, and for himself.

'It's all right. I'm here,' he whispered into the boy's hair as the sobs slowly abated and turned to occasional sniffs and hitched breaths. 'I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you.'

TBC . . .

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! Since a number of people have asked (in reviews and PMs) I figured I would address the question of pairings briefly. At this point (when Harry is only 11 yrs. old) I have no idea what pairings will be like in later books in this series. There will be later books in the series, though, as I plan to write one for each of his 7 years at Hogwarts. So, yay, right?

On a completely separate topic, I've been reading a lot of time-travel fic lately (usually Slash, in the Marauders Era, and usually either HPLM or HPSS), and I've been bitten by a plot bunny -- hope it didn't have rabies. I was wondering if anyone would be interested in me writing such a thing, that is, a time-travel story with slashy goodness, though not necessarily one of those listed above. There'd be a fair amount of angst ('cause that's my first love, naturlich) but it would be primarily a romance. Let me know, in PM or reviews, if you would like to see one from me, 'cause it'd be way different from the Sevitus stuff I usually do. It would, obviously, not supercede any story I am currently working on, and all of my stories will be completed, no matter what. Pinky swear!

*Chapter 37*: Chapter 37

Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 37

By jharad17

Disclaimer: None of this is mine! Eh, I'll get over it.

Warnings: language, references to mild sexual abuse

Note to viewers: This story (of Harry's first year in Hogwarts) will not be slash.

A/N: Looks like, from the informal poll I took last chapter, that about 90 percent of you are firmly pro-TimeTravel fic, either slashy or non-slashy, with about 10 percent giving the idea a thumbs down for various reasons. So, um, yeah, since my country of origin is democratic and all (at least for the time being; by next year, who knows) I shall bow to the majority opinion. Besides, I think my bunny is a decent one. It will be a week or two before I get the first chapter written, though. In the meantime, enjoy this little number. Onwards!

Previously on Better Be Slytherin:

It was time Harry had someone he could count on for good. Like a father, who he could lean on and believe in, and trust. Severus would make it happen. He owed it to Lily. He wanted it for Harry, and for himself.

'It's all right. I'm here,' he whispered into the boy's hair as the sobs slowly abated and turned to occasional sniffs and hitched breaths. 'I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you.'

Harry heard the words that Snape said, but like the words that had been whispered to him over the last few minutes, or hours, or years, since he started bawling like a baby, they didn't make any sense. He finally seemed to be getting control back, though, and that's what mattered.

Once he'd gotten his breathing firmly back to near-normal, he dared to lift his head and face the music. What had he been thinking, to throw himself at the professor like that? Snape must think him a complete idiot, an utter prat, and a unbelievable . . .

Wait. What was he saying?

'. . . s'all right, Harry. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you.'

What was that supposed to mean? No one had ever said such things to him. He cleared his throat. 'Professor?'

The hand smoothing over his head stilled -- and he had never felt such a thing in his entire life, but God, did it feel nice, and soothing. Gentle, like someone actually wanted to feel better, like they cared about him, which he knew was a lie, of course. It was all so surreal.

Fingers then, under his chin, lifted his face to meet the professor's. Harry stared into dark, fathomless eyes, then looked quickly away. 'Sorry,' he said, his throat still clogged with tears and mucus from his running nose. He tried not to look at the professor's snot and tear dampened shoulder. He was in enough trouble already. 'Sorry, sir.'

'There is no need to apologize,' Snape said in the same gentle tone he'd been using, and did not let go of Harry's chin.

'But I . . . I mean, you're . . .' He gestured helplessly at the mess on Snape's robe, but he would not meet the professor's eyes no matter what. He brought a hand up, cautiously, to wipe his nose. 'I shouldn't've cried. Sorry.'

'Harry . . .'

The tone Snape continued using was so unfamiliar to him that he had absolutely no idea how to respond to it. Instead, he stood up suddenly, pushing himself awkwardly away from the professor and to his feet. The feel of his wand in his hand gave him some semblance of calm. When Gaius had called, 'Expelliarmus,' in his face, seconds after he'd drawn the length of holly, he'd known he was in serious trouble.

But he could not, would not think about that now.

'Sorry, sir,' he said again, because that's what was done, when he had been bad or wrong or insolent or whatever. Apologize, again and again, and maybe he would escape the cupboard. Feeling suddenly cold, and horribly exposed, he cast about for his tee-shirt and spied it where Gaius had dropped it, after so casually taking it from him, despite Harry's attempt to make him stop. Harry shivered again, remembering, and then pushed those memories away. Hard.

Just as Harry started for the shirt, Snape stood, and it looked like he was reaching to touch Harry's shoulder when the door to the lavatory banged open. Harry jumped, and, not even thinking, hid himself behind the