Better Be Slytherin!

TBC . . .

A/N:

The next chapter will be an unveiling of many mysteries, and we'll have the long awaited trip to see the Dursleys. Thank you, everyone, for your wonderful reviews. I should have the next chapter out by the weekend.

*Chapter 18*: Chapter 18

Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 18

By jharad17

Disclaimer: Not mine. I imagine I'll get over it.

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 on Better Be Slytherin!:

The Potions Master drew himself up and glowered down with such ferocity that Harry was hard pressed not to flinch away when he spat, 'No. I did not. But I will brook no more of your disrespect. Now sit down!'

Harry sat.

'Now . . . you will tell me when exactly you discovered you could speak to snakes.'

Trying to rein in his temper, Severus waited for the Brat to speak. His rage had a tendency to flare when something truly frightened him, though he would not admit to actually being frightened by the Brat. No, of course not. But it was rather . . . disconcerting to find that not only had the Boy Who Had Too Many Surprises Lurking Beneath His Scrawny, Tousled Exterior noticed what memories Severus was riffling through, but had then been able to expel him – a practiced and talented Legilimens – from his mind! Cheeky Brat! Severus should have been able to access those memories with no one the wiser, especially not the boy. He could have done it in his sleep! That he hadn't gotten away with it was almost more troubling than the memories themselves.

But it was worse than that. If the Brat had a natural talent at blocking his mind and shifting his memories around like he had done – as if he were playing Severus for the fool! – that was one thing. However, coupled with the Parseltongue Severus had heard spoken in the memory, which the Brat said only sounded like sibilant English to him, it was something else entirely. If he was somehow accessing two uncommon powers of the Dark Lord's . . . Well. It didn't bear thinking about. Not at this very moment, at least. Perhaps later. When he could get good and stinking drunk.

And the very worst of all . . . Severus had recognized the commanding voice that spoke Parseltongue in the boy's memory. Shivers, which he hoped were well masked as quivering rage, went up and down his spine. He was not ready for this!

Right now, though, he had a chairful of angry Savior of the Wizarding World, whose glare matched Severus' favorite one, almost perfectly. So he schooled his face to an expectant expression and lifted his eyebrows, to show the Brat that he was waiting. Patiently.

'I didn't know I was, sir,' the boy grated out. 'I told you, it just sounded like English, but like the person had a mouthful of sand or something.'

'Have you spoken to snakes before?'

Potter considered, and Severus could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he decided whether or not to answer honestly. 'Once. At the zoo.'

Severus sneered. Horrible Muggle invention, the zoo, where brainless idiots threw food at monkeys, only to have it thrown back. Often with interest. 'Well, Potter? What happened?'

'I was at the zoo. I talked to a snake. Then the glass disappeared and the snake got out.'

With a frown Severus wondered, Accidental magic, too? He studied the boy in front of him. He was hiding something. 'What else?'

Potter set his jaw. His eyes were twin emerald fires, challenging him, daring Severus to descend upon him like a wrathful god. 'Nothing that concerns you.'

Something personal then, and given his recent forays into the boy's mind, something to do with his relatives. Their reaction to the magic, perhaps? Yesterday, Potter had told him, in visible terror at the mere possibility of a home visit, that his relatives hated magic and wizards as well. Severus' eyes narrowed. 'What did they do to you?'

'None of your business! I don't . . . I don't know what you were trying to prove, sneaking into my memories like that, but you can't just do that.'

'Potter—' he started tightly, only to be interrupted.

'Severus Snape,' the Bloody Baron said in a low, chilling voice. The ghost was not even looking at Severus, but at the Brat Who Lived to Torment Him, with an expression of almost awe. 'I believe you have badgered this boy enough for one night. Your enthusiasm for the task has outweighed its usefulness.'

'I believe you are sticking your nose in too far, Baron,' Severus told him. 'We still need to know what was said in Parseltongue. And since the boy is the perhaps the only one alive who knows it—'

'What do you mean Parseltongue?' Potter interrupted. 'What's that?'

Severus was very unhappy about being interrupted. Twice! Thus his answer was little more than a snarl, 'The power to talk to snakes, boy! What do you think we've been going on about?'