Better Be Slytherin!

back to the Headmaster, Snape gave him a long, hard glare. 'And I plan for him to collect.'

'I very much hope you are not asking about the summer again, Severus. We have spoken--'

'You have spoken, and you have not listened. Harry Potter has already done his fair share by this world. The least you can do is let him have a proper home. Especially now, he will need far more support than those Muggles can ever give him. They treat him with disdain and worse, as it is! And if you still want him to learn Occlumency, which I still do not believe he is ready for . . .'

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a gnarled hand sweep to the side, as if brushing away a rather large fly. 'All right, all right! You have proved your point, Severus. I will see what I can do. But if we cannot find a suitable alternative for the Blood Wards, then he will have to return.'

There was a glint in Snape's eyes that had not been there a moment before, though not many would be able to detect its presence. 'Thank you, Headmaster. That is all I ask.'

'Yes, yes, of course. If there is nothing else . . .'

Snape rose from his seat, and because Harry was still attached to him, hand to shoulder, Harry got up, too. 'Good evening. I shall send Mr. Avery to you presently.'

With one hand steering Harry out the door, Snape closed it behind them with his other. He led Harry all the way downstairs to the dungeon, and then to his office, where he sat Harry down in a chair and gave him a thick blanket to hide under, and even ordered Harry some hot cocoa from the House Elves, before he left, saying not to worry, that he was locking the door to his office, and no one could get in to trouble him. Harry murmured a thank you as the professor left, but he wasn't sure Snape had heard him.

Waiting for him to return, Harry curled up in the chair and sipped his cocoa, which was really quite good, and chocolatey, and made his hands warm, when they had been so utterly cold. He was still holding his wand in one hand, though not as tightly as before, but he could not quite manage to put it away yet. His mind was much calmer now than it had been, now that he was completely and totally ignoring the fact that he had been in the lavatory at all, earlier in the evening. Yes, better for all concerned if he just didn't think about that anymore. Else, how could he ever face going back in there again? And he had to wash, didn't he? He had to shower, tonight, soon, if possible . . .

Mostly, though, he looked into the depths of his mug of cocoa, as if therein lay the truths of the universe. Or of proper cocoa making at least. He almost smiled, inwardly, as he took the last sip, and just in time, too, as the professor returned just then, and Harry jumped, but didn't spill anything from his now empty cup.

Snape closed the door again. 'He's gone,' he said once Harry had settled himself back in the chair. 'His parents have already come to collect him. He won't trouble you -- or Miss Granger -- again.'

Something loosened from the tight, aching place in Harry's chest, and his breath caught. He clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes closed, as otherwise, he was afraid he might start bawling again, and he could not afford that, not in front of Snape of all people.

And then another voice -- the Baron! -- said, 'I . . . requested Peeves pay him special attention on his way up to the Headmaster's office. I do believe there was phlegm involved.'

Harry was so surprised he coughed out a laugh, then turned to look at the ghost, now hovering next to him, and nodded with a wan smile. 'Thanks.'

'You are very welcome, Harry Potter. I only regret I was unable to protect you when you truly needed it.'

'S'okay,' Harry said.

'It is not,' the ghost said in the same tone he used all the time -- at least he had not changed, unlike Snape -- 'but we shall not argue my failings at this time, if that is your wish.'

'Um . . .' Harry sighed, feeling more tired than anything; just trying to parse out what the Baron was saying was exhausting. He pressed his not-wand-holding hand to his eyes. 'Okay.'

Snape saved him. Again. 'I believe it is well past curfew, and thus time for you to go to bed, Harry. We will speak more of this tomorrow.' He paused, then, 'Unless you want to stay--'

Harry quickly shook his head. 'No, sir. No, thanks.' He shuffled out from under the blanket and shivered, struck by the sudden cold on his bare arms. He had not expected to leave the common room -- except to go to the loo -- again this evening, or he would have worn one of Dudders' old jumpers. The arms were too long, and they were too wide by a mile, but they didn't have any great gaping holes, just one or two here and there. He shook his head, still feeling like he wasn't thinking right, and started for the door.

Realizing he still had the cocoa mug in hand, he stumbled back to Snape's desk to place it carefully on the edge. 'Thank you, sir.'

'Harry.' Snape stopped him, doing that putting-a-hand-on-his-shoulder thing again, and making Harry want to look up at him. Then Snape, for a wonder, moved his hand slowly, cautiously -- as if he didn't want to frighten Harry, but Harry was not frightened by Snape, not anymore -- and then his hand cupped Harry's cheek . . . like Harry was . . . not a freak.

'Yes, sir?' he whispered.

One thumb traced back and forth, softly across his cheek, and it was all Harry could do not to draw away, just because the sensation was so unusual. No one had ever been so kind to him. So gentle, so . . . caring. He had never once thought he deserved to be treated like this. He still didn't, Gaius had proved as much. But Snape . . . he didn't know what to think anymore.

'Promise me, Harry,' Snape said, once Harry focused on the man's eyes again. 'Promise, that if you have any trouble tonight, that you let me know.'

'I . . . um, but what about . . .' Harry didn't want to go wandering through the corridors after curfew, in case Quirrell was around.

Snape's gaze flicked to the Bloody Baron for an instant, then back to Harry. 'The Baron will be with you in your dorm tonight. If you have any trouble at all: nightmares or insomnia, or you want to talk, or you just want someone near you who can hear you breathe while you don't talk, I want you to promise me you'll tell the Baron, and he will come get me, immediately.'

Harry frowned a little, confused. Why would Snape want him to do that?