Better Be Slytherin!

'Can I go now?' He looked at Snape. 'Sir?'

Snape turned his dark gaze on Harry and waved his wand in a quick arc. 'In a moment. Come here, please.'

Harry couldn't help but drag his feet, but once he got to his Head of House, the man merely shoved a potion at him. 'Drink that.'

It was blue and sludgy looking. Harry sniffed it and almost gagged.

'Drink it, Potter,' Snape warned. 'It's a nutritional supplement. You'll take another dose in the morning, and every day thereafter at breakfast.'

Harry scowled then plugged his nose and chugged the foul brew down. It tasted worse than it smelled. He choked a bit on it, but managed to keep it from coming back up.

'And this one,' Snape said, handing him a metal cup with a clear liquid half filling it. 'For your bones.'

With a sigh, Harry drank that one, too, plus two more that Madam Pomfrey handed him -- one for his bruised kidneys and one for his 'contusions,' whatever the hell those were -- until he was swimming in potions. Finally, he was allowed to go, with strict instructions to return on Friday for another check up.

Even though he was ecstatic to be let free, he had to admit he felt better than he had in a long time, almost free of pain. It was a good feeling, even if he knew he was in for a world of hurt when school ended.

TBC . . .

A/N: Thanks to each of my readers and reviewers and to those who are both! Every day is a good day to review! Hugs to all.

*Chapter 8*: Chapter 8

Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 8

By jharad17

Disclaimer: Not mine. Alas.

Summary: As a first year, Harry is sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor, and no one is more surprised than his new Head of House.

Previously:

Severus followed him out, ready to grab him if the boy made a break for it, and they made their way to Pomfrey's domain.

When all was said and done, and the boy was getting dressed again, Severus cast a privacy ward and met with Poppy to go over the results of her scans. They were . . . worrying. Not that Severus was worried; of course not. The Brat had proved more than capable of taking care of himself for the ten years he'd been left in the dubious care of his Muggle relatives, hadn't he? Tended his own wounds, found ways to keep from being hungry, developed an attitude that pitched himself against the rest of the world . . .

It was no good. He couldn't work up a decent gut full of bile against the boy, not after what he'd heard . . . and what he'd seen.

Meeting with Poppy, he had to take a few minutes to compose himself. Always watchful, Poppy put a hand on his arm and looked into his face. 'Are you all right, Severus? I know this must be hard.'

She was the one who had rescued him all those years ago, who had tended to his hurts each autumn, when he returned from a summer under his father's tender mercies. She knew the memories this evoked, and did not judge him for it. Neither did she judge the Potter boy. And neither should he.

'I'm fine,' he snapped, knowing that was the answer she expected. 'What are we going to do about Potter?'

She offered him a knowing smile and glanced at the still-drawn curtain. 'He'll need fattening up, of course. And he has several broken ribs that are mostly healed, but not fully.'

'You didn't mention those before.'

'Would it have mattered?'

Severus shook his head. 'Go on,' he encouraged.

'His kidneys are bruised, obviously, as if someone repeatedly kicked or punched him in the back. No surprise, given the quantity of bruising there. And he has some tenderness near his liver, too, but I believe that will be taken care of with the potion for the kidneys. And you saw the rest.'