*the two half-bloods featured in this chapter desperately need therapy
Severus knew this is where he had fucked up. He was getting close to breaking down the child’s barrier, but spoke one sentence without thinking about what consequences his assumption might hold.
He had only ever seen a single child with a look that spoke so much pain, so much contempt. One look from the raven haired boy made him instantaneously regret every sneer, every cruel word toward the child.
The laugh that followed was unnerving, and the words the boy spoke were said with such venom, such bitterness. Severus had up until this point still held onto the immature thought that maybe the boy was doing this for attention. Wanting to believe so badly that this child was as much of an arrogant attention seeker as his father once was. But then Potter spoke the words that destroyed every single bit of disdain towards the boy in Severus's mind.
“You really think I didn’t try that..?”
One simple sentence. A sentence that was both so similar yet so different from one he had in fifth year. From a conversation he had regretted ever since. The night he lost lily.
Severus was a young, naive boy who thought he would finally find his place where he was valued within the death eaters. He had called his best friend a mudblood. Lily had been genuinely concerned for him, for why he had never told anyone about his alcoholic muggle father.
Severus had always felt like if he were to tell anyone about his issues at home, they would see him as weak. And he cared more about upholding his image than he did about his own safety.
Severus had wrongly assumed the same about the boy in front of him. A half-blood slytherin, ignored in his own house and despised by the other three. A boy desperately trying to uphold the image he created.
But in Severus’s case, the words had been spoken differently. When a young Severus said them, they implied that he had wanted desperately to tell someone, but he let his ego get in the way.
Harry Potter spoke the words with a bitterness that could only come from painful rejection.
The raven haired child stared down at the floor, hands clenched tightly into fists at his side. Severus waited for him to speak.
The boy shuddered and his eyes darted around the hall. His voice was soft and his words were barely a whisper. “I can’t.. I-I can’t talk about this here.” Severus took this as his cue to speak. In his gentlest, most unintimidating voice he could muster, he replied. “If you would like, we can continue this conversation in my office.”
Severus waited patiently as the seconds felt like hours before the child gave a small, barely noticeable nod. Severus hesitated before offering to carry him, remembering that this child had just tumbled down a twenty meter long staircase and most likely had extremely serious injuries. The man cursed himself internally for forgetting such a thing, he was about to let the damned child walk all the way down into the dungeons on a broken leg!
Unsurprisingly, Potter claimed he was fine and able to walk. Severus sighed and reminded the boy that if he was so insistent that he was completely fine, he should have no problem with Severus casting a few diagnostic charms to confirm. ‘I should have casted a diagnostic charm the second I saw the mangled boy’ Severus chastised himself.
But surprisingly, the boy almost immediately agreed to anything as long as no diagnostic charms were involved. The child must understand that the second their conversation was over he was going straight to the hospital wing? Did Potter honestly think Severus would let him return to the common rooms without at the very least being checked over?
Severus pushed away those thoughts and just thanked Merlin the boy agreed to anything in the first place. Severus had prepared for a lot of arguments and debating. He wasn’t about to complain about the child’s quick compliance.
Severus carried the boy through the teachers only passageways to avoid embarrassing him or him being spotted and rumors spreading. The child flinched at every step and was extremely tense. The child noticed after a few minutes in the dungeons they had passed the professor's office. Potter then spoke a few words, voice filled with wariness and something Severus had wanted to avoid: fear. “I-I thought you said we would be speaking in your office.” He looked at the professor hesitantly and flinched and he felt the man stop. He looked at Severus as if he was waiting for the man to inevitably crucio him.
“Astute observation skills Potter. You are correct in your statement that I had said we would be speaking in my office, but I felt it might be a bit more comfortable for you if we spoke in my private quarters.” Severus said calmly, praising Potter's observation skills in the same way he would for any other slytherin.
Severus knew the boy was intelligent, despite previously believing the child was subpar at best. The way Potter's eyes scanned the room acutely and thoroughly. The way he carefully calculated his words before he spoke.
Everything Severus thought he knew about Potter had been disproven since Minerva came into his quarters and cursed him into oblivion. He was starting to believe she hadn’t done enough.
For a moment, Potter’s eyes widened and he looked so incredulous at the mere thought of being praised for something in the first place, especially for something as simple as recognizing they passed a door. The professor knew that Potter recognized the fact that he was being addressed and praised in a manner only ever reserved for slytherins (Ones not named Harry Potter, that is)
Severus was tempted to smirk at the way the child was almost instantly lost in thought, likely trying to figure out when he was promoted to that status. From the way Potter was tilting his head slightly, it was plain to see that the child was more confused and distrusting rather than terrified. Confused and a bit hesitant was something Severus could deal with.
When they reached Severus’s private quarters, he laid Potter down gently on the large black sofa in the middle of the room. For a moment all the tension seemed to leave the child’s body and his eyes darted around the room, filled with curiosity.
Severus waited patiently. Only about a minute had passed before Potter apparently remembered why they were here, and mumbled a stammered apology before falling silent. He occasionally looked up from between his bangs as if waiting for the potions master to chastise him for showing any kind of curiosity. Severus waited a moment and then summoned a vial from his shelf of calming draughts.
Severus calmly offered the vial, explaining that it may help calm his nerves, and after hesitatingly accepting it with a quiet thanks Potter chugged it down and exhaled.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes. Finally, Severus noticed it. It was a small change, barely noticeable unless you were paying close attention. Potter's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.
The boy looked at Snape, as if giving him a chance to yell at the child and demand he leave.
When Severus remained silent, Potter finally spoke.
His voice was hushed and strained as if it physically pained him to get the words out of his mouth. “I didn’t know my own name until I was about five.” Potter stared at his knees as if ashamed. “When I first started primary the only things I had ever been addressed as were freak, brat, and boy. When the teacher called my name for the first time, I didn’t know who she was talking about.”
The boy looked up for a moment, waiting to see how Severus was reacting before continuing. While he was seething on the inside, he didn’t let a single bit of the rage directed towards Petunia Evans show on his face. Severus gave Potter a small nod, informing him he was allowed to continue.
Potter inhaled a deep, shaky breath. “Her name was Miss Debbie. She was nice. Never yelled or anything. At the end of the year she approached me and asked if I was being hit at home.” Potter paused for a second before continuing. “My aunt and uncle told me that if I was asked about my bruises, I was to answer that I was wild and got hurt while doing unsafe things like climbing trees when they weren’t looking. So that’s what I told her. Miss Debbie didn’t believe me so she asked my cousin what I was treated like at home instead. He’s dumb, and he didn’t think to be quiet, so he proudly told her that I was freak and slept in the cupboard under the stairs.”
Potter continued speaking, completely ignoring the way Severus had tensed at his last statement. Potter slept in a cupboard. A cupboard. It was also concerning how easily the child stated he was a freak, almost as easily he had admitted to being beaten. If not more easily.
Worse was the child didn’t even seem bothered by it. In fact, it appeared like he came to the conclusion that he was a freak the same way a child might conclude they have blonde hair. Potter continued speaking without missing a beat.
Severus was beginning to regret giving Potter the calming draught..