Better Be Slytherin!

that neither caused injury to their classmates before the year was out, especially as his Slytherins shared that class with them.

'I can't believe you don't know how to play,' Weasley was saying in a low voice while shaking his head mournfully. 'Or I wouldn't, if you weren't so pants at the game. You're really hopeless, aren't you? Can't wait till I tell the twins how I beat Harry Potter at Wizard's chess!'

The back of Harry's neck was red in a way Severus recognized meant he was upset at the string of insults but unwilling to say so. As he knew Harry had been penalized for speaking out by the Muggles who raised him, this was hardly a surprise. He could also tell, by the way the boy's shoulders tensed, that Harry had realized almost immediately that Severus was standing behind him and was listening to every word. Also not a surprise, given his upbringing.

Severus had his best sneer ready for when the redhead's face finally rose to meet his. O, how glorious was the sight of blood draining from that wee freckled face! He had the power, he snickered to himself, to terrorize ickle firsties. How low he had fallen, truly.

'P-p-professor?' the boy asked with a gulp, though his blood flooded his cheeks swiftly enough once again, when Severus' lip curled just a little bit more. This Weasley, unlike his older brothers, was quick to anger and would be easy to provoke into some brash sentiment of bravado. Oh, he did hope so; there was little on this earth sweeter to Severus than assigning detention to a Gryffindor on Christmas Day.

'I did not realize Professor Quirrell's affectation was c-c-contagious,' Severus mocked. A quiet expulsion of breath was all he heard from Potter, but it was enough to let him know the boy was trying not to laugh, even as he bowed his head as if not wanting to see what was about to happen.

Weasley's cheeks reddened further. 'We're just playing a game. Sir. Well, I'm teaching him how to play.'

Severus raised an eyebrow. 'So I see.' Sometimes the most innocuous statements could produce profound results.

Weasley proved his hypothesis correct by scowling darkly, then murmured something under his breath, almost too soft to hear.

But Severus had honed his hearing over the last dozen years of listening for potential explosions in his classroom, and caught the words: 'can't see how,' 'anything,' and 'greasy.' He could extrapolate the rest. 'Twenty points from Gryffindor for your disrespect, Mr. Weasley.'

The boy was on his feet in an instant. 'That's not fair!'

'Life rarely is,' Severus opined. This young whelp could take a lesson or two from Harry on that truism, if nothing else.

The boy's chin came up. 'You can't take points from me. I didn't even do anything!'

Severus' nostrils flared, and he carefully crossed his arms so as to not reach across the table and strangle the noisome creature. 'Unless you were subjected to the Ventriloquist Charm, you certainly are responsible for what comes out of your mouth.' He made a show of looking around the otherwise empty Hall. 'And since even you can see that no one is here to have cast the spell, one must assume you moved your lips of your own volition.'

'I wasn't even talking to you!' the boy snarled.

With a sneer, Severus used a soft, cutting tone. 'Indeed, the case could be made that an idiot such as yourself is incapable of holding a conversation at all, Mr. Weasley. Shall I use small words so your small brain can keep up? Your words offended me. In fact, you are being rude again, right now. Ten more points from Gryffindor. That's thirty, I believe. I can make it an even fifty, if--'

'No!' the wretch said quickly. His hands were clenched into fists as he glared at the chessboard instead of his professor. Through gritted teeth, he said, 'No, sir. Sorry. I didn't mean it.'

Not quite the apology he might have hoped for, but Severus inclined his head sharply and strode away. Not quite fast enough, though, to miss the last invective Weasley spat towards Harry in a low hiss, even as he shoved away from the table: 'Should've known. You Slytherins are all alike. Have fun in the dungeons all alone, Snotter.'

Severus sighed as he left the Great Hall. Apparently he had made things even worse for Harry, instead of better. Damn. What was that old saying about good intentions . . . ?

TBC . . .

A/N: A hearty thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! And Happy Spring, for all of you (including me) in the northern hemisphere! As my Dear ol' Da used to say:

'Spring, spring, beautiful spring; the bird is on the wing!

--Don't be absurd; the wing is on the bird. . . .'

I have a new Yahoo group called Better Be Slytherin, dedicated to readers of all my stories, where you can ask questions about plot, characters, what-have-you, get updates of new chapters, or chat with other readers about various points in the stories. Please feel free to join, via the link on my profile page! We're waiting for you.

*Chapter 41*: Chapter 41

Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 41

By jharad17

Disclaimer: None of this is mine! In fact, several sentences (and even a paragraph or so of description of the Christmas feast) have been lifted wholesale from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, by JKR.

Warnings: language

A/N: This chapter covers the same time frame as the one previous, though it is, of course, from Harry's point of view instead of Snape's.

Previously on Better Be Slytherin: