Harry, being conditioned to wake at absurd hours by force and then willingly getting up even earlier than that so he could have some 'me time' in the day when he wasn't forced to either be at school or doing chores for the Dursleys (and in recent weeks early enough to read and respond to Draco's letters), woke up a not so insignificant amount of hours before his dormmates. Despite having the comfiest bed he'd ever had the pleasure of sitting on much less sleeping on (having a bed at all, to be fair) he could not stop his internal alarm clock from forcing his eyes open before the sun had even started to lighten the sky outside the gorgeous gothic-style windows framed in rich red fabric. He'd kept the curtains of his own four-poster bed side open because he was far beyond sleeping in small dark places—the one window he got back in the shed had spoiled him and his new roommates didn't care about which bed they got so he'd jumped at the chance to have the one between two of the largest windows that showed part of the grounds and part of the forest outside their confines.
The room was circular and spacious enough that each little pie-slice had enough room for the four-poster bed, the trunk at the foot of it, a desk, and a decent albeit small wardrobe. Some areas had windows above the desks, other had solid walls; Neville had taken the bed beside his so their desks were side-by-side, and both of them had windows on either side of their beds. Seamus, an Irish boy he'd met briefly the night before, got one window and some wall, while Dean, another acquaintance, and Ron Weasley himself both had walls. Dean was fine with this arrangement as he apparently brought several posters that needed to be hung and he'd need the real estate, while Ron on the far side of the room had mentioned he liked to sleep and 'birds chirping' or whatever he thought windows entailed would bother him. Neville hadn't said a word but from the way he was hovering in Harry's footstep the other boys hadn't put a fuss—Seamus even moved one bed down without saying anything, like he'd simply decided to switch beds, therefore opening up two beds beside each other, which Harry thought was very considerate.
Seamus and Dean seemed like nice guys, though they hadn't had much of a chance to talk last night since it was late by the time they got back from the feast and they were all practically in a food coma. They'd done the obligatory exploration of the spacious, frankly lavish-yet-cozy room, claiming their spots and getting settled in just enough to not be total messes come the morning, but had retired pretty quickly. Dean seemed muggleborn as his posters were of muggle football teams, but Seamus could've been anything as he was enthusiastic about everything he encountered, but not overly shocked either. Seamus seemed a little slow on the uptake sometimes since sarcasm clearly flew over his head, but he'd noticed Neville's silence and been genuinely nice to him without getting in the shy boy's face about why he wasn't saying much. Dean had laughed at Harry's sarcastic comments but didn't engage either.
All in all, Harry was reserving judgement for the time being but figured if there was no big issue they'd be pleasant people to room with. He'd have to deal with it even if they turned out not to be decent too, since it seemed like they'd been dormmates for the next seven years regardless of if they took issue with one another or not.
Point and case: Ron leaving what looked to be half his trunk lying on the floor around his bed and what he thought was a rat scurrying over his already-messy desk. They'd been here less than 12 hours and Harry was honestly glad he was over there on the exact opposite side of the room because he was sure that'd get old fast. He'd spent most of his short life cleaning after all, and while messes hadn't bothered him at one point in his life, about the time he got his act together and started taking pride in himself and his overall appearance and person, he got over that apathy and ensured his shit was together at all times. He didn't begrudge messy people their personal space to be as messy as they wanted but that didn't mean Harry was going to let it fly if stray shoes and quills started ending up in his space—Ron could do whatever he wanted in his bubble and therefore Harry would maintain his own space similarly.
Okay, calm down, no need to prep for a fight that might not even happen.
He took a breath and continued about establishing his new routine. Since getting up early seemed to be the thing his body did naturally now, he had plenty of time to sneak past Neville and Seamus to the door to the bathroom, which while only having one shower and one toilet also had a wall with about a dozen cabinets for the taking which Dean had started the trend of picking one and sticking his toiletries in there. Harry knew he was going to have more stuff than the typical guy (Ron's cupboard had a toothbrush and a comb, to prove a point) so he'd taken the bottom-most two in order to be out of the way and put all the potions and soaps and shampoos the nice hairdressers had given him, along with two baskets of both Dell's baubles and another filled with all his other collected shiny things. He also had like five combs and brushes and while he felt more than a little vain he loved his hair and he was going to take care of it no matter what opinions he got from his dormmates.
He felt even more vain when he realized he had all the time in the world before any of his sleeping roommates would even think about waking up and therefore spent all the time in the world taking a shower, washing his face, brushing his teeth, combing and fixing up his hair, covering his scar, and so on. He got up early to have time to do this on top of the Dursleys cooking in the morning and so to have so much extra free time felt good.
Having spent an exorbitant amount of time in the bathroom but fully pleased with himself and feeling better about the day, he slipped back out and was amused and saddened to see no one else had even twitched in their sleep yet although the sky was lighter outside and sunrise was probably within the half hour now. With a sigh he went back to his area and sorted through his clothes, quietly putting things away in his wardrobe (years of sneaking around while the Dursleys slept meant he could easily be silent when he wanted to, although now it was more for consideration than fear of punishment that kept him quiet) and sorting through his supplies for what he might need for his first day of classes. He arranged his desk into a nice little working station, although he kept all his books in his bottomless bag so he wouldn't need to lug them around or come back here if he forgot anything.
By the time his new watch read 7:13, the sun was up, even if just barely, and he was properly bored. No one had said what time classes actually started but when he'd vocalized this thought last night Ron had in passing mentioned his older brothers mentioning it was 9-ish or something. His lack of certainty gave him anxiety, wondering if they were going to be late on their first day.
Well, he'd be less late given he was fully dressed and his bag packed, but still. This was poorly thought out, how they introduced first years to Hogwarts and all. First they'd only mentioned the password once and if you hadn't been listening or had a bad memory you were screwed, not to mention they walked here late at night and it didn't sound like they were going to get a map or a guide going forward so… just try not to get lost I guess? Then the lack of guidance about what time to get down to breakfast, what kind of things you need for the first day, anything other than 'don't go into the aptly named forbidden forest or up to the third floor for some horrible reason'?
This school had issues, that was for certain.
Harry was ripped from his thoughts by a loud banging on the door, nearly falling off his chair in shock and several voices of sleepy alarm calling out in shock at the sudden intrusion into their dreams.
"First years! It's 7:30, breakfast has officially opened. Classes start at 8:50, you'll need to collect your time tables down in the Great Hall— try not to be late on your first day." A voice came from the other side of the door, and it sounded like the prefect that'd shown them the way last night. By the hair and freckles, Harry was guessing it was one of Ron's older brothers (he'd wondered not for the first time how many Weasley children there actually were but was not the best terms with the youngest Weasley and was therefore not going to ask—he'd ask the twins later, they were more than nice to him both on the platform and at the feast last night when they'd continued calling him 'Apples' and took much glee in nettling him about how he'd surprised the whole school by being a red head like them instead of what 'Harry Potter' was apparently supposed to look like).
Harry didn't hear a sound from Ron's closed curtains, but Dean and Seamus were groggily flailing, trying to get their bearings and absorb what had just been said while still being half asleep. Neville had startled awake and was breathing fast, but quickly collecting himself—he was wide awake though from the fright he'd just had and turned to look at him in surprise.
"You've been up a while Harry?" He blinked the last bits of sleep and shock from his eyes, realizing the red head was full dressed and sitting at his desk.
"Yeah, I wake up early naturally. That's good they wake us though, as I was concerned about the lack of a schedule."
"I had thought that…" Neville agreed, but his expression clearly said he'd been too afraid to ask, much less question it.
Harry grinned widely. "Morning Neville—happy first day."
The dark blond looked surprised but smiled happily back. "Morning Harry."
It didn't take long for the others to get ready, as guys who didn't spend longer on their hair than it took to run a comb through it made great time when prompted by the promise of breakfast. The fact they had uniforms cut down on the getting dressed process too—the uniform concept in general Harry wasn't thrilled with but the only plus side being he'd confirmed you could wear what you wanted in off-hours and the blood-red and gleaming gold tie and badge that'd appeared on his robes since he got sorted kind of matched his hair so… there was that.
Seamus had been the thoughtful, if naïve one who'd realized Ron hadn't budged and tried to wake him, but got snapped at for his troubles. Apparently the Weasley wasn't a morning person and while he was a considerate person, Seamus also didn't give a quaffle about someone he didn't know and who'd only proven himself to be rude—twice now. With the attempt made—and failed—he'd shrugged and turned to join them as they grouped up to go down to breakfast together with one last shout to remind Ron classes started at 8:50 just in case the boy hadn't heard it the first time.
Harry thought that was very nice of him, but probably a useless attempt.
He'd been right about the lack of a guide or a map, but luckily between the four of them and one or two probably unnecessary detours, they made decent time and recognized the hallway they were in as the last one that lead to the Great Hall at just about quarter to eight. Harry was delighted to see a familiar blond head a distance in front of them, with a group of two others all wearing green and silver ties come up from an inconspicuous door that seemed to lead down. He remembered Draco mentioning the Slytherin dorm was in the dungeons and was wondering if he'd ever get a chance to sneak in and see it for himself because he wondered how they'd keep a place like that warm. Magic probably, be he was curious none the less.
"Draco!" He greeted, probably too loudly for the early morning but it got the three ahead of him to stop—the blond in question whipping around but the other two turning at a more sedate, but cautious pace. Harry just grabbed Neville's hand knowing he'd be left behind if he didn't and ran up to them, Dean and Seamus taken off guard but quickly following suit.
"Morning!" He greeted brightly as he came up to them at proper speaking distance, and pretty much everyone from both groups stared at him like he had a second head—with the exception of Draco who was very much only pretending to be casual, as Harry could clearly see the lines of tension in his shoulders. Oh well, he could get over it because they could stare at him all they wanted for being too friendly—if they stared because of his apparent fame then he'd take issue, but before then it truly did not matter to him.
"Harry." Draco greeted, his posture only very slightly tense but his tone his normal affluent self, if not slightly more so. Probably because he was showing off for his housemates, and Harry's green eyes flickered over them curiously. One was tall and admittedly very handsome, with dark chocolate skin and very intelligent brown eyes measuring him back with equal, if not more intense regard. The other had mousy brown hair in tight curls, but blue eyes set into a sallow face the exact color and feel of solid ice for how frigid and uninterested they were as he did Draco's somehow-looking-down-at-you-while-meeting-your-gaze thing. Neither looked thrilled to meet him and did not in fact say good morning back.
"This is Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott." Draco introduced with a wave of his hand at each of them, ignoring the way their eyes seemed to drift from Harry in order to pierce him silently with perfectly Slytherin-like blank, but meaningful looks.
"Hello, we sort of met at the sorting. I'm Harry." He greeted back far more friendly than they seemed willing to be, and did not say his last name. No need to call attention to it.
"Potter." The tall boy, Blaise, greeted anyway, rather curtly. Harry was impressed he actually acknowledged the greeting, but less impressed by the tone at which he'd said his last name.
Like a switch flipping, he automatically snapped a grin onto his face in a perfect show of friendliness.
"Monroe actually, if you would Zabini. Or you could call me Harry since any friend of Draco's is a friend of mine." He positively cooed with a tone that was far too sweet. Draco simply glanced at Blaise as if to say told you so while
the tall boy glanced at him without emotions and stared at Harry for that comeback as if reevaluating him. Nott behind him just let his pale blue eyes drift over the conversation blankly without saying a thing.
Harry cut off their calculating stares to turn to his own dorm mates.
"This is Dean, Seamus, and Neville!" He finished the introduction, the switch unflipping and his more earnest smile coming back just like that.
"'Lo," Dean managed to get out rather stiffly—if he was a muggleborn he probably didn't get the Slytherin vs Gryffindor thing but was not stupid enough not the realize this conversation was tense. Seamus just nodded and Neville just made a squeaking noise. Harry decided to ignore the awkwardness and beamed at Draco to pointedly get to the point of him bothering to talk to this group of Slytherins at all: because Draco was his friend and he was hell bent on everyone being civil to each other regardless of if social norms had to go down in flames with him in order to get there.
"So you were right about Gryffindor being in a tower and all--I was a bit afraid we'd get lost on our first day which would be awkward," He chatted, and the blond paused only a couple seconds before smiling back. Still stiffly, but more like he smiled when they first met, as if he wasn't used to doing such things and not because he didn't want to.
"I'm sure you could get away with being a couple minutes late, given who you are."
He put on a mock-annoyed look "There's no way."
Draco snorted wryly, somehow still making that look delicate and refined. "Well we should get breakfast if you're so adamant about being on time. Apparently it's rare first years don't get lost on the way to their first classes."
He turned and started walking, sort of leading the charge with Harry sliding up to walk by his side and the others could only follow in awkwardness. He didn't turn around to see how the Slytherins were—god forbid—walking cordially beside a bunch of uncomfortable Gryffindors but the mental picture was amusing enough to satisfy him.
"I can only assume Slytherin is far more put together than how Gryffindor does things; please tell me one of your Prefects gave you a hint or like a map or something?"
Draco laughed once as if he couldn't help it. "Oh, so they're expecting you to run around until you get entirely lost?"
"I'm starting to think that, yes."
"And why would I share trade secrets with the enemy," He said it blankly, but somehow Harry caught the joking undertone and gasped dramatically for effect.
"Is that what we are? Dearest me I probably shouldn't have said good morning then." He grinned, and Draco's lip twitched which was pretty much the equivalent. "Pleeease?"He was not above begging, even if he was doing it playfully.
The blond scoffed, amused. "Fine, let's walk to our first classes together. Severus tells me Gryffindor and Slytherin are often together for some reason."
"Really!?" He got excited at that, still being a little regretful he'd actively chosen to not be in Draco's house mainly because of the severe decrease in time they'd get to have together. Being in a lot of the same classes would alleviate that some. "If we have potions together, I can show you what I found in that book I was talking about."
"You do realize as a Gryffindor you're all but destined to fail potions, right?"
"But it's the most interesting one so far!" He pouted playfully, although he'd already known that from their letters. It wasn't a lie—it seemed to be the most like cooking and he was good at cooking. One would think the skills would translate maybe. "If you're my partner maybe we'll cancel each other out."
"Why would I be your partner if it'll doom me to fail, or get me a worse grade?"
This boy is too easy, Harry cackled internally as he began to grin very slyly, and made no effort to hide the mischievous glint in his eye.
"Because you've touted your skills at potions so much I can only assume that even my Gryffindor curse won't affect how brilliant you are at your master subject, Mr. Malfoy." He was all but purring, laying the complementary tone on thick. Draco stiffened up and his cheeks dusted a light rose.
A sudden dignified snort caused them both to look back, in time to catch Blaise coughing lightly into his hand to cover up what was unmistakably a laugh at Draco's expense. Realizing he'd been caught, he just lifted one dark brow pointedly at Draco, entirely unrepentant.
"He's got your number, Malfoy."
Draco scowled at him the boy, but Harry let out a peal of laughter that had the blond relaxing slightly. So the tall Slytherin had a sense of humor; that was good to know. The fact it came at Draco's expense was a little concerning but Harry could work with that—Draco could do with a little teasing to bring him down a peg or two off his spoiled-brat persona at times. And Harry had intended to tease him out of fondness from the beginning, in any case.
He was still grinning as they came up to the Great Hall, that last leg of that journey taking no time at all. They were still in the early crowd, although the amount of Ravenclaws and Slytherins present was notable. The bookworms were likely eager to start classes while Harry got the feeling Slytherins were punctual to a fault out of sheer principle.
He also realized everyone was sitting at their very different, neatly separated tables, and his morning plans of chatting with Draco and Neville went up in smoke, his smile dropping immediately.
"Oh… I suppose we sit at our own house tables?"
"That's how it's done, yes." Blaise chimed in for the first time willingly, coming forward as if heading to the Slytherin table and pausing just to lift his eyebrow at the red head in front of him as if posing the challenge.
Harry frown at him but honestly couldn't deal with him at the moment, turning to give Draco an apologetic look. "I suppose we have to get our time tables this morning… but I'm coming to sit with you at lunch!"
The entire group startled at that declaration, Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, though Theodore and Blaise hid it better. They were only eleven after all, like the rest of them, and Draco's cool countenance seemed to be natural whereas theirs was just a tiny bit too forced. As if Draco's straight posture was hereditary and theirs was because of a broomstick taped to their spines.
"Can you do that?" Seamus scratched his head at that thought.
"Don't know, don't care," Harry waved him off with a grin, glancing at Draco. "I kind of wanted to be in Slytherin; sorry the hat had other plans, Draco."
Yes, he said it for dramatic effect, but also to sooth Draco, and it clearly worked by his automatic grin at that statement—this one being more real than any he'd had so far this morning.
It was a bonus when the Gryffindors behind him made sounds like a badger being stepped on and the Slytherins looked legitimately taken off guard. Even Theodore who'd been one step short of glaring this whole time could only stare at him now. The unexpected but slightly entertaining side effect he hadn't been counting on was a group of upper year Ravenclaws at the end of their table nearby who'd apparently been eavesdropping, choked on their breakfast and at least three of them needed to be clapped on the back to prevent from suffocating.
"Really?" Theodore spoke up for the first time, eyes scanning over him with an alarming intensity as if trying to figure out a particularly complex puzzle, but his gaze was anything but warm and his tone doubly frigid. "Why would you want to be in Slytherin? Aren't the Potters made of Gryffindor?"
Harry's felt his smile instantly cool on his face.
"It's Monroe, Mr. Nott." The boy blinked, but then it was over and Harry was rolling his eyes in a relaxed way. "Not to be rude, but I kind of thought the whole point of me being famous was that my parents were, I dunno, dead? I've never met them so how am I supposed to know if they were Gryffindor-ish or not?" He shrugged a bit helplessly, and only partially for show. "And besides, Draco is my friend and he was always going to be in Slytherin—you saw the hat take all of not-even-a-second to sort him." Cue eyes roll at Draco puffing his chest up smugly. He put a finger to his chin playfully and glanced up at the enchanted ceiling as if a thought were occurring to him. "Ah, but when I said I wanted to be with my friend the hat called me a Hufflepuff and sorted me into Gryffindor instead. It was rather rude, to be honest."
The two stranger Slytherins just stared at him.
Eventually, Blaise shook his head and shot Draco a look before addressing him properly this time, with the frigidness left off the curling ends of his voice.
"You're an odd one, Potter." He told him pointedly as if daring him to take it offensively. Unfortunately for him Harry just smiled and put a hand on his chest as if flattered, which caused the taller boy to press his lips together thoughtfully.
"We should eat something, so we have time to get to our classes." Theodore smoothly changed the subject and started walking away from the conversation without another word or glance to the Gryffindors.
Draco cast him a wry look. "Later then."
"Later!" He waved, sensing the dramatic exit that the blue-eyed Slytherin was trying to make and let him have it—this time, snitch. He watched Draco go with one last parting smile and something wry in his muddled gray eyes. By the time he turned around again though, three of his new dormmates were staring at him with eyes like saucers. "What?" He demanded.
"They're right, you really are an odd one." Dean grinned at him, shaking his head in almost the exact same way Blaise had and moving towards the Gryffindor table to find some seats and some bacon amongst the delicious spread laid out for the taking. "I thought we were supposed to hate the Slytherins." He commented with no true amount of malice in his tone as he plopped down and Harry took the seat opposite him, with Neville clambering up beside him.
Harry didn't have to go far to know where he got that idea, even if Dean was a muggleborn. Ron hadn't done much so far but antagonize Draco—who reeked Slytherin even before setting foot onto Hogwarts grounds— before they were even sorted and then talk loudly about it at dinner (to which Harry mostly tuned him out but he'd been aware of the rant happening) and then even get a parting shot in last night as they were settling down, making some comment about how it was much comfier than some 'slimy snake dungeon'. Harry gave exactly zero quaffles about what Ron Weasley said, but he was a bit annoyed to realize his venom was spreading.
He quickly decided to nip that in the butt with all due haste.
"Why would I hate people I've never met? Also, I already know Draco and he's my friend, and I kind of wanted to be in Slytherin so that'd be hypocritical."
"But aren't they all dark wizards?" Seamus chimed in, looking a little more troubled than Dean who didn't seem to really care either way.
"Who knows? Doesn't mean I would've been one just for being sorted there, and that should hold true for most of them, right? Besides, they're first years. Do you know what you'll become in seven years? Cause I don't." Cue pointed sip of the pumpkin juice that had appeared in front of him—how he loved magic! "It's the same for them—no need to cast them as dark wizards when they're only our age and don't know any differently than we do about our futures, huh?"
Dean seemed to swallow that explanation with no issue, his expression acknowledging that valid point before he went to town on the waffle he'd just helped himself too.
Seamus was forgoing digging in but took a bite of his bacon with a conflicted, thoughtful look on his face. "…guess you're right." He eventually got out with a bit of patience on Harry's part. Eventually he seemed to come to some conclusion and shrugged. "Getting along with them sounds like a lot less effort than hating them too, 'specially if we're going to have a bunch of classes with them."
Harry felt like beaming, but settled for smiling pleasantly as he took a bite of pancake. One glance to the side showed Neville picking at his oatmeal and placing raisins along the edges distractedly. He hadn't spoken up of course, but dragging it out of him at the breakfast when it was their first day of magic classes was probably a bit rude and would overwhelm him. He shelved it but made a point to circle back to the shy blond before too much time had passed.
He shrugged the whole conversation off and let Seamus and Dean dissolve the topic into muggle football vs. quidditch—it seemed like they were going to be fast friends in no time since they were equally as enthusiastic about their sports as Draco was with quidditch and seemed willing to both share and learn each other's passions. He knew enough about both sports to be able to contribute, but quickly got outshone when he realized he was definitely not nearly as much as a diehard fan as they both were. Magic was still new enough to him that he was mostly interested in the prospect of quidditch: flying seemed like the most fantastic thing about the wizarding world so far, and just a little prompting got him promises from both of them that first years would have flying lessons eventually to see if they had any skill or passion for it.
Neville hadn't been thrilled but Harry most certainly was. It sounded fun, it sounded wonderful, and he was probably more excited for that that the actual classes in half and hour.
Speaking of, at just about 15 minutes from the point they'd need to leave in order to wander around this castle and find the right classroom, and the Great Hall was very much full of students who were essentially done with their meals and chatting away happily, McGonagall began going down the Gryffindor table handing out time tables. A minute or so later, Ron finally made his appearance with a very annoyed looking red headed prefect practically dragging him by the ear.
Aw, what a good older brother. Ron would've been absolutely screwed if his brother didn't clearly notice his absence and be willing enough to baby him into dragging him down in time for classes. He knew Ron would've likely died on the spot had he missed breakfast by McGonagall's very intense stink eye as she caught him walking up to sit at her table while she was handing out her students' schedules. He wasn't sure if this was a prefect duty or not to baby their house's first years like this, but judging by the red headed prefect's sour expression, Harry was thinking probably not. Or, at least it'd never been required before, or at least not that often.
Deciding he didn't want to deal with Ron first thing in the morning on the day he got to start magical classes, he accepted his time table when McGonagall handed it to him with a wide grin that caused her to shoot him a suspicious glare, before calling a quick "Be right back!" to his dormmates and taking off towards the Slytherin table before Ron could fully reach them and sit down.
He was vaguely aware of a lot of eyes on him but promptly decided he did not care—not when Draco's blond head snapped up at his approach and was suddenly out of his seat and meeting him halfway by the back of the Great Hall, obediently presenting his time table for Harry to snatch from his hand.
He compared them and promptly pouted.
"Eh!? You said Slytherin and Gryffindor were paired up a lot! Liar." He huffed, and earned himself a regal eye roll.
"I'm sure twice seems like a lot for many Gryffindors who are less snake-inclined." Draco drawled. "But remember Magic Theory and Astronomy are taught on year levels—all four houses will be in those."
"Okay fine. Well we've got one today! We can go after lunch together."
"About that—were you seriously planning on sitting at the Slytherin table at lunch?" He said it casually like it didn't matter to him, but his eyes said a different story.
It tightened his resolve, not that a bunch of dirty looks and frigid eyes were going to stop him before, but it added fuel to fire, to say the least.
"I know, Blaise misses me already. Tell him not to worry, I'll be back to bother him in no time."
Draco's face spasmed like he almost burst out laughing but controlled himself at the last minute, biting his lip and then smiling more calmly. "I'll be sure to pass along the message."
"Thanks Draco, you're a doll."
They shared a brief smile before Harry went back to commenting on their schedules and figuring out a game plan for the semester.
000
Draco was… painfully aware of all the eyes on the two of them since they weren't exactly hiding. More like standing in front of the entrance where literally the whole hall could see him. Not that it wasn't like he could feel a hundred eyes on his skin and whispers starting to circulate.
But, he held firm.
The warmth at Harry's wide, content smile chased away the uneasy feeling like sunlight burning away cold morning dew, coming down like a Patronus in front of a sea of judgmental eyes until it really didn't seem to matter anymore.
The new school year dawned on a September morning that felt particularly warm this year.
000
Snape's entire being was melting from sheer frustration and other emotions he couldn't place, to the point where the fork in his hand hovering over his as-of-yet untouched breakfast was in quite a bit of danger.
He hated being this spectator, who could only just sit here and watch. Not the he even knew what he would do even if he could get off the sidelines and do something already, but the sheet frustration was driving him up the wall. Or into one.
But all he could do was sit here and watch his godson be brave.
Brave enough to stand in front of the entire damn school and silently declare that yes, this Slytherin had a Gryffindor as a friend. Like he didn't see the Hufflepuffs exploding in whispers like the gossips they were or the Ravenclaws dissolve into wondering what this might mean. Like he wasn't shattering his reputation in Slytherin at this very moment with the eyes of the upper years growing colder by the second, or how some Gryffindors looked to be short circuiting as they couldn't process what they were seeing—some got red faced, others just gaped dumbly. One Slytherin seventh year looked ready to kill, but settled for sipping his coffee darkly.
Slytherins lived to the hidden politics beneath he surface, and Draco was standing there with a calm, plain and genial smile that would've made Lucius so fucking proud had it be directed at a teacher or a politician, and yet…
…and yet Draco wasn't a political yet, he was eleven bloody years old and Severus knew his godson well enough to know he wasn't masking fear or anger or a lie to get his way. He was smiling like that because the boy wanted to grin like an idiot and had better control of himself than that. His mask was shielding happiness and warmth, not the things most Slytherins masked.
The upper year snakes recognized this, and their eyes met each other silently over their meals before going about their business without a word.
Draco had made a mistake, and he was going to pay for it. Severus wanted nothing more than to protect the child, but knew even he couldn't stop this. Slytherin wasn't the monsters the world made them out to be, but that didn't mean they weren't monsters in their own right, and only when they wanted to be. Very clever, very particular monsters who got their way in the end. Good monsters who didn't get caught. Monsters who took a lot of pride in being the beautiful, refined beings that they were.
Severus loved Slytherin even to this day, now that he was grown and realized was a poor Slytherin he'd once been—the one who'd lost Lily in the end because he didn't understand.
He was terrified that Draco didn't understand. Not yet.
But he was absolutely positive that he was about to learn, and it wasn't going to be pretty. He wondered what Lucius would do when that happened, and how he'd be blamed for not protecting the Malfoy heir. Like he even could in the face of this.
But absolutely worst of all… was that Severus knew in the deepest, pettiest part of him that he was ashamed to admit existed (and he was a very petty man, so that said quite a bit)… that he was also just a tiny bit jealous of his godson.
If only he had been brave enough to do such a foolish, terrible thing. Horrible as this coming lesson would be… maybe, Severus thought, maybe having Lily in the end would've made it worth it. He didn't know, and he realized he would never know. Because he'd been a coward, and he'd thought of his own hide first and foremost… not risking being bold or anything Gryffindor-like even for just a second to be with his childhood friend.
Lily had made many attempts to be Slytherin-like and get along with his friends early on, he realized this looking back. Potter and Black had made damn sure that Severus never once approached a Gryffindor other than Lily with anything but hostility though. The disconnect, the dissonance that difference cause… well, Lily had given up on trying to like Slytherins other than him before their first year was out. She'd been kind and open-minded, but she wasn't one to be trampled on and she knew when to call it a lost cause.
And maybe that's why she'd given up on him eventually too.
The way Draco was looking at a boy who could've probably been a young Lily Evan's twin said it all. Severus had spent a lot of his first half of Hogwarts looking into green eyes the exact same way, and when she said jump, he'd ask how high. If only he'd been a little braver to actually continue that as they got older and rivalries, jealousies, life got in their way.
He remembered waiting two weeks to seek her out again after their sorting… it didn't look like her son was going to give Draco the option of running away or denying their friendship like Severus once had, and for some reason that cut into his heart sharply. It almost physically hurt watching a young red head with gleaming scarlet hair trailing behind them dash across the hall with a big grin on his face towards the Slytherin table and go collect his friend by force—if Draco hadn't stood to meet him Severus was sure the boy would've plopped himself down in the middle of the snake pit just to be beside his godson, and for some reason that physically hurt.
This was all so familiar, so echoing of what once was… and yet… everything was different. It looked and felt like the same tragic story starting all over again but… this time—this time— the Slytherin was a bit braver, and the Gryffindor was a bit more aggressive.
Why hadn't he been braver? Why hadn't Lily been bolder? Why hadn't he gone to her, and why hadn't she come to him like her son just did, right in front of him and the entire bloody school?
Because that boy has James Potter in his blood. The same Potter who declared his love for Lily in front of the Great Hall not three weeks into first year. The same Potter who leapt off the astronomy tower on a dare and the faith that Black would catch him with a levitation charm with less than three months of magical training. This boy looks like Lily, but he's reckless and aggressive like his father, unafraid to stand up for what he loves or blindly fling himself into his next grand adventure like the terrible bloody Gryffindor he was.
Severus was absolutely horrified at the thoughts that assaulted him absolutely unwillingly.
Even worse, because he realized they were all true.
He was out of the Great Hall so fast even the Slytherins didn't seem him go, and all he knew was that he was glad he had no morning classes, otherwise every single one of those students who get a failing grade to start the new year.