Better Be Slytherin!

want to know, Harry, so I can best decide if you need to be removed, permanently, from their care. And I cannot leave you alone, ethically, not when I am in a position to aid you.'

Harry shook his head and backed toward the door. That wasn't true; it wasn't. No one could 'aid' him. No one ever had before. And if they said they were, it was only because they had some trick up their sleeves, and he would get into even more trouble than if they'd just let him be! He knew how the world worked. Snape was like everyone else, just trying to trick him, just like always.

'I don't believe you,' Harry told him, and in a flash, he had the door open, and was running down the corridor and far, far away.

TBC . . .

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! Happy Almost New Year. Peppermint mochas all around!

*Chapter 32*: Chapter 32

Better Be Slytherin! – Chapter 32

By jharad17

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

Previously:

'I don't believe you,' Harry told him, and in a flash, he had the door open, and was running down the corridor and far, far away.

'Damn,' Snape snarled, and before the boy got more than a dozen steps, he was out of his chair and heading after him. He'd thought briefly of locking the door before Harry made it through, but he knew that was more likely to make the boy panic than anything. Still, he should have put himself between Harry and the door, to cut down on the possibility of the boy bolting. In this state of mind, Harry was liable to get himself into trouble.

Just before he left the office, he remembered something, and went back to his desk to grab the packet of photos he had promised to show Harry. He meant to keep that promise, even if Harry thought he was an evil bastard who wasn't actually trying to help him.

As he chased after the boy, he reflected on what exactly had gone wrong. He had needed to ask this series of questions a number of times before, and though there were differences in each child he tried to help, there were many similarities in their cases as well, one of which was almost an automatic reflexive denial of any problem. He was actually rather amazed that Harry had not accused him of making everything up whole cloth, including the injuries he'd had healed at the Infirmary at the beginning of the year. In his experience, children who were neglected and abused -- and he'd dealt with plenty in his tenure as the Slytherin Head of House -- were some of the least trusting and most paranoid people in the world. Severus had been one himself, so he was fairly confident of his interpretation.

But he had the unofficial testimony of his Legilimency of the Dursleys themselves. He certainly had not seen everything they had done to Harry, but he had a pretty good basis to charge them with a number of crimes against the child. What he really needed was for Harry to corroborate what Severus had seen in their minds, with his own words.

For the next quarter hour, Severus trailed after the boy, all the way to the owlery. His leg -- despite having been mostly healed from his run in with that thrice-damned three-headed dog -- was aching fiercely by the time he reached the top of the West Tower. The owlery was cold and drafty this November evening, as the weather this past week had turned particularly nasty. Frost rimed the grounds every morning, and turned the surrounding hills a dark, steel gray.

In the frigid owlery, Severus immediately cast a warming charm on his clothes as he peered around for the boy. In the dark, one little dark haired boy in dark robes was not easy to spot. But one white owl was, and Severus honed in on the bird, recalling that Harry had one like it.

Half turned from the door, the boy was standing quite close to his owl, stroking her feathers gently. Severus, however, could see the lines of tension running through him as if they were painted on, in every jerky movement of his hand, in every hitched breath, and even in the cant of his head. Severus was going to need to approach the subject of his abuse much more slowly than he had previously considered. From the candidness with which the boy wrote his essay, Severus had thought he was ready to talk about his home life. Clearly, he was not.

Or . . . perhaps he could only talk to his owl about it. Harry's soft voice was barely more than a whisper, but Severus had not been a spy for nothing. He picked out the boy's words over the low murmurs of owls settling and the rustle of feathers.

'. . . supposed to do, Hedwig. They always knew when I told anyone anything. Was always worse after. This was before I had you, you know, but I got locked in for weeks, once, after the school nurse made a fuss. She said . . .' He shook his head and ran a hand across his face. Wiping away tears? 'I just . . . I don't think I can go back to the cupboard again. God, I was so hungry . . . And where would you go? I can't ask you to stay locked in that stupid little cupboard with me.' Seemingly talked out, the boy sighed and rested his head on his arm, which leant on the perch Hedwig was standing on.

But Severus had heard enough. 'Harry,' he said quietly, so as not to spook the boy.

Harry spooked anyway, rearing back. His green eyes were luminous in the dim chamber. 'Please,' he begged. 'Please, sir, just leave me alone.'

'I can't do that,' Severus told him, again and moved a step closer. He took it as a small victory that the boy did not back away fearfully as he had half expected. 'You are my responsibility, just like the rest of my Slytherins. I need to make sure you are all right.'

'I'm fine!' Harry swallowed and repeated in a quieter voice, 'I'm fine, sir. Honest.'

Severus nodded slowly, and took another step. 'Right now you are, yes.'

'I'm fine all the time. Just . . . you don't know me, or anything about me! Don't pretend you do.'

'All right. I won't. You have told me a few things about yourself, however, and I'll make whatever