Dumbledore's roundabout way of having Snape protect him was obviously causing Snape some distress. And though he was loath to admit it, Harry knew the reason was really probably none of his business.
'I'm sorry, sir,' he said softly. 'I didn't mean to pry.'
Snape whirled around again, his expression one of surprise, before his face was carefully schooled once more to that blank mask. He held Harry's gaze for a few more moments before he inclined his head slightly. 'It is nearly dinner time,' he said. 'Go on now and eat before practice.'
'Yes, sir.' Harry rose, collecting his book bag and slinging it over his shoulder. 'Thank you,' he said, glancing back at the professor as he reached the door. 'For sticking up for me.'
Snape shook his head just a bit, but the sharp brittleness in his eyes softened, and he waved a hand in silent dismissal.
Harry smiled and slipped through the door.
TBC . . .
A/N: Snapalicious hugs for all!
*Chapter 28*: Chapter 28
Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 28
By jharad17
Disclaimer: Not mine. I imagine I'll get over it.
Previously:
Severus watched the boy go and shook his head again. He was getting soft, and he could not afford to. Yet, the Bloody Brat Who Had Just Thanked Him, Against All Odds kept managing to surprise him. He could not help but agree with the little voice inside that reminded him that Potter was not his father's son. Not by a long shot.
The Bloody Baron, who had remained unusually quiet during his talk with the Brat, floated out the door to keep guard on Potter till he got up to the Great Hall for his meal. Between Severus and the ghost, they would make sure no one attacked the boy. They had to.
The next week went by fairly quickly and with minimum of fuss, and Halloween arrived. Severus detested the holiday, if for no other reason than it gave Albus reason -- as if he ever required any, truly -- to hold a feast and feed the children too much sugar. They were always completely unmanageable for days on either side of any holiday, and this year was no exception.
Harry Potter, on the other hand, seemed to have come over all melancholic. Severus was not going to ask why, but he did listen to the Bloody Baron chatting with the boy during his study time on October 30th. He had noticed the Baron spending a great deal of time talking with Potter over the last couple months, and he knew the boy confided more in the ghost than probably anyone else, even the Nott boy, or his Quidditch mates. It was unusual, to be sure, since in Severus' tenure at Hogwarts, and even when he had been a student, he could not recall a single person the Baron had ever spent more than a few minutes with over the course of their entire matriculation. And yet, the Bloody Baron spent copious quantities of time with Potter, rarely leaving his side if the boy was outside of the Slytherin common room.
Tonight being no different, the Baron floated by Harry's left shoulder as the boy worked on an essay for Herbology. At his desk, Severus remained, to all appearances, casually uninterested and focused on his grading. In truth, he had not read a word his be-damned third years had committed to paper in well over twenty minutes, while the Baron and Harry spoke of how he was managing in his other classes, and how Quidditch practice was going. Normally, Severus would not give a shrivelfig for any of this small talk, but he knew the boy would open up to the Baron sooner or later about his current mood, and he wanted to know what was bothering the boy . . .
There. He'd admitted it. He . . . cared.
'Halloween Feast tomorrow,' the Baron said. 'I imagine you're looking forward to that.'
Potter shrugged one shoulder. 'I guess.'
The ghost peered at him, cocking his insubstantial head to the side. 'You are
'Haven't really given it much thought,' the boy admitted. He shuffled his book closer and reread something in it before writing again.
'May I be so bold as to ask why? Most children, especially First Years, find the whole thing rather exciting.'
'My parents died on Halloween.' The words were so soft, Severus almost didn't catch them. In shock, he dropped his quill.
The Bloody Baron had reared back slightly, but then he nodded, and one of his ghostly, silver hands reached toward Harry's shoulder, though he did not actually make contact.
Playing with his own quill and staring at his hands, Potter went on, 'I never even knew them, or how they died or anything, till Hagrid found me and told me. I had to find out
Even as Severus shook his head, the Bloody Baron did the same thing. But what the ghost said was, 'I
