Aspire

“Find a seat,” a greasy haired man sneered, his shoulder length black hair whipping around his face as he spun around.

He scowled at the students as they scurried around to find a chair quickly.

The tables were in sets of two, with enough space for two stools and their cauldrons. Harry stood awkwardly, looking around for a spare table. Seeing one free with a familiar looking ginger boy, (Ron- Harry reasoned, remembering the twins and Percy mentioning him last night) there was also a seat free with the bushy haired talkative girl - Granger, or something similar. Harry also noticed a seat free with the blonde from breakfast. Waving gently, he moved quickly to sit next to Draco.

“Can I sit here?” He whispered so softly Malfoy almost missed it.

“You want to sit next to me? Sure!” Draco responded, barely holding back a small smile. Harry nodded as he pulled out parchment and a quill. Looking up at the greasy haired professor, Harry waited for him to introduce himself.

“I am Professor Severus Snape, and obviously I teach potions,” Snape drawled, his voice velvety and smooth. “I will not tolerate any insolence in my classroom, be warned,” He said, his eyes seeming to stare directly at Harry as he said that.

“Now, let’s find out who is prepared, shall we?” Snape muttered.

“Potter! Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” He snapped, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed Harry was sitting next to a Slytherin- his godson of all people.

“Um, I am sorry sir, I am not sure,” Harry whispered, his face red as he bit his fingernail. He heard some snickers from a few Slytherins behind him. He saw Draco stiffen from the side of his eye.

“Well, I am not surprised that your celebrity, Mr Potter, thought he was better than everyone else, and didn’t bother learning any of this,” Snape snapped, glaring at Harry.

“Maybe you need a more simple question? Where would I find a bezoar?” Snape asked, smirking as Harry flushed again.

“Erm-” Harry started.

“In the stomach of a goat, which we learn in our third year,” Granger called out from the front row.

Snape sneered.

“15 points from Gryffindor, for Potter’s arrogance and Granger’s calling out,” Snape scowled, shooting Harry a dark look.

Snape spun around again and started the first lecture of the year.

“Draco? Do you understand this?” Harry whispered to Malfoy, who was writing on his parchment.

“What do you not get?” Malfoy asked, taking Harry’s paper and reading it quickly, “See- that bit there, it's not true, you need it to say-” Draco was cut off as a large shadow grew behind their backs.

“Mr Malfoy? Are you helping an arrogant brat who wasn’t listening and now doesn’t understand his work?” Snape sneered, his eyes narrowed and calculative at his godson's almost protective stance in front of Potter.

“Sorry sir,” Draco mumbled, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed a light pink. Draco handed Harry his work back and started to work on his own. Nodding, Snape strutted off.

Harry frowned looking at his work, still confused. He looked up at Malfoy next to him and smiled widely when he noticed Draco had written an explanation to all his questions on a small bit of parchment ripped off his own essay. Grinning, Harry started fixing his work again.

Maybe potions won’t be all that bad.

Especially with Draco helping him.

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Snape was annoyed. He had the bloody Gryffindork first years for the first class of the year. Rotten luck. He knew that Minerva had to have them first class last year, but he had hoped that he could have pawned them off to Pomona Sprout, because she loves the firsties. But nope, she had to tutor some seventh years, and now he was stuck waiting in the dungeons for the Gryffindors. And the Slytherins, Snape reasoned. Slytherins and Gryffindors just don’t mix, he knew it first hand. He normally begs Dumbledore to put the Gryffindorks with the Hufflepuff's, and the Slytherins with the Raven claws, at the very least. Especially with the older years, they are all coming out with their secondary genders and times get tense.

Huffing to himself, Snape started writing some essay questions on the chalkboard as the first students came inside. Slytherins, Snape noted, were the ones who actually turned up early. No surprise there though.

He spotted a few students he already knew, like his godson, young Draco Malfoy. A spoilt boy, of course, no Malfoy could grow up un-spoilt, especially not one with the mother of Narcissa Malfoy.

He saw Nott, recognising him easily as he looked identical to his father, who was a year below Snape himself as a student.

Snape scanned the room quickly, snapping at the students to find a seat. Sneering slightly, Snape froze as he saw a small child with a mop of curly black hair. It was familiarly unfamiliar. It looked just like James’s, yet it was tidy, well as tidy as it could be. It was painfully obvious, well at least to Snape, that they tried as hard as they could to pin it down. It was combed to the side, yet it still looked like a mess. Snape stared at this student as they turned around quickly.

Green.

That was all Snape could see.

Green.

Emerald like Lily’s eyes, yet just as bright as a curse Snape knew all too well. They were shining, glittering brighter than anything in the damp and dark classroom.
That must have been Harry Potter. Lily’s son. A bratty boy, no doubt, yet Snape found himself questioning that assumption as he noticed the boy’s short height, lithe frame, and thin legs. He was easily the shortest in the class, he moved ungracefully, yet he looked as delicate as a bird. His face was still childish, a lopsided grin, yet his eyebrows were crinkled as he looked around the room almost anxiously, searching for a friend to sit by.

And that was when Snape internally screamed.

He had decided years ago that he would hate this student, yet looking at this obviously abused kid, he couldn’t find it in himself to snap at him. He was just an innocent kid. An innocent kid being the son of the love of his life and his worst enemy. But even so, that child was innocent.

And that was when Snape swore.

Snape promised himself he would try to help this kid. Whether it’s just by being an ear to listen too, to offer advice, or, heaven forbid, offer his home to this kid as he obviously can’t go back to his abuser's home. Well, he is jumping to conclusion, Snape sneered at himself. He needs to learn more about the kid first-

What the fuck.

This Gryffindor, adorable and abused or not, just sat down on the left side of the classroom. That sounds fine, yet it was an unspoken rule that the Gryffindor's sit on the right and Slytherins on the left. And he sat next to his godson. Draco Malfoy, the most cunning and ambitious of all the damned Slytherins here!
Does he have to move the boy away? For his own good? So he doesn’t get caught up with Malfoy and his goons? Or should he talk to his godson and explain to him that Potter is, it hurt’s him to say but, ‘special’?

Damn. That's annoying now.

“I am Professor Severus Snape, and obviously I teach potions,” Snape drawled, his voice velvety and smooth. “I will not tolerate any insolence in my classroom, be warned,” He said, staring directly at Harry, silently challenging him to call out.

“Now, let’s find out who is prepared, shall we?” Snape scowled.

“Potter! Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” He snapped, tyring to make his voice sound stable and annoyed, it was hard to shout at this small child. Snape silently swore at himself as he noticed Potter’s eyes water ever so slightly. Well, it wasn’t as if Snape expected him to know this, it was at very least third year stuff.

“Um, I am sorry sir, I am not sure,” Harry whispered, his face red as he bit his fingernail. Snape heard some Slytherins snicker, and he sent them a cold stare above Harry’s head to shut them up.

“Well, I am not surprised that your celebrity, Mr Potter, thought he was better than everyone else, and didn’t bother learning any of this,” Snape snapped, internally screaming as the boy ducked his head.

“Maybe you need a more simple question? Where would I find a bezoar?” Snape asked, glancing over at some muggleborn girl from Gryffindor who was waving her arm.

“Erm-” Harry started.

“In the stomach of a goat, which we learn in our third year,” The girl called out.

How frustrating. It seems he may have a know-it-all in his class this year.

“15 points from Gryffindor, for Potter’s arrogance and Granger’s calling out,” Snape scowled, sneering at the annoying girl.

Snape spun around again and started the first lecture of the year. He was talking about the dangers of brewing without proper instructions when he noticed Potter whispering at Malfoy.

Oh no. best intervene in case something happens. Knowing his godson, he would no doubt try to get Harry to follow him and join his little gang- but he couldn’t let that happen, for Potter just looks so small and helpless, we wouldn’t let his godson ruin the purity and simple innocence of Lily’s son.

“Mr Malfoy? Are you helping an arrogant brat who wasn’t listening and now doesn’t understand his work?” Snape sneered at his godson, watching the blonde squirm slightly.

“Sorry sir,” Draco mumbled, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed a light pink. Draco handed Harry his work back and started to work on his own. Snape frowned, but he nodded. Originally, he thought Draco was going to make up a petty excuse, but by -slightly illegally- dipping into both Potter’s heads and Draco’s, he saw that harry was only asking for help.

Well in that case, they can talk, Snape reasoned as he stalked off. Was that Gryffindor chewing muggle gum in his classroom!

How dare he-
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