Work Text:
‘I must do better.’
Looking at the spell in the thin, worn out, ancient little hand written book he'd bought in a job lot box of books shoved under the benches at the second hand bookshop where he’d gotten his school books for fifth and now sixth year, his guts felt like water, like steam, evaporating as they expanded.
Looking in a detached way at his hands shaking as they traced the lines of the spell, mind automatically adapting it to a modern need, rather than an archaic method of parental control but….
People still did it.
Still….
His mind recoiled from the word even.
But they did, and while Harry had never seen or heard of this spell and he was fifteen, so would have thought if he'd had a family then he’d have outgrown anything like this years ago but, well, he did remember the great spectacle in his fourth year when the father of one of the pure blood students, a sixth year like Harry was now, had marched into the great hall…..
Taken his son by the ear….
Hauled them to the middle of the room with all eyes on them, sat on a wooden chair a simple wand movement provided for him, and….
Spanked the ever loving fuck out of them!
Something about underage sex and disgrace and Harry still flinched at the memory but clearly one didn't outgrow this kind of thing if one had parents, or people who cared about how you acted.
He didn't have that.
Across the past years he’d learned so much at school but there were so many things he had to do, had to learn, had to be able to do just to survive but he was….
Lazy.
It was the only word for it.
Coasting through school, only doing the bare minimum…..
No friends to push him forward or make him want to be better, he’d lost his only friend Ron over the fucking tournament, no one else wanted to be, well, he sighed as he ran careful fingers across the spell, as if it might activate without any of the prep work needed.
Prepwork, yeah, he sighed glumly, but when he’d read the spell first, how it would work had blossomed in his mind like, well, he sighed again, fully formed and ready to go, like his best plans always did.
Looking again at it he winced, but if he was going to survive then he needed to do better, and this might just do it.
*
Watching the entire class begin to shout and rage at the teacher Harry huffed softly, that wasn't going to work but, as usual, in a class of unruly teens somehow only his quiet reaction got noticed.
“Mr Potter, do you have something to say?”
She looked like a toad trying to hold a mouthful of honey, if one was insulting toads of course. In reality toads were beautiful little things with stunningly jewel-like eyes. But if one wanted to insult toads, this was one in human form and her eyes were greedy, sick and hungry and as he’d grown up with people just like this, and their friends, so instead of raging and fighting which she wanted, instead he asked with feigned excitement as he matched her little girl voice with his own, “Have the final exams changed to suit your amazing new course Professor?”
Dead silence as he looked fully at her, a big excited smile on his face as he gave her what she wanted next-most to his suffering, he gave her adulation.
When it looked like she wasn't going to be able to speak for shock he went on, “I mean, so far this class has been a disaster, I mean, the unforgivables? A bogart showing everyone what our deepest fears are? A werewolf teacher?”
Waving to the board and patting his insipid course books Harry smiled a big happy preschool grin and said, “These seem so much safer, like I'd expect in a school for pure bloods and all of the rest of us too, a safe place to learn how to pass tests but….”
His face crumpled into near tears, “But has the test changed to meet your class Professor? Because I know the Ministry takes our education very seriously but that sometimes people are slow, and grades are so important, please, please tell me the end of year test matches your class because I want to grow up and work in the ministry cause it's such an amazing place and I need the best grades to be good enough!”
Halting the word vomit he waited with huge eyes and beaming trust as she floundered and finally said, “We are working on getting it changed in time for all you sweet young things to take, so we will keep going with my class and all of you can trust me and the ministry to have your best interests in mind as we go forward and - ”
So, that was a no then.
As the class again erupted in protests one of them yelled about dangers in the outside world and Harry almost wet himself hiding his laugh as he pulled one of his favorite finds stealthily from his bag so when the teach SCREACHED about what was so dangerous about the outside world he too raised his voice, bounced in his seat, and yelled, “I KNOW, I KNOW PROFESSOR, I KNOW THE ANSWER!!!”
Slamming his Great Big Pop Up Book Of Monsters onto his desk he yanked it open, “I HAVE IT HERE, oh sorry for yelling, I have the Ministries very own book on the things we might meet and where, because the Ministry said it’s our responsibility to be ready and keep ourself safe so if we go on holiday,” - the open book now had a Kappa standing hunched and green as it clawed and grabbed and drowned someone - “to Japan we can avoid falling to a Kappa!”
Flipping pages at random he nattered on, “Or if we go fell walking, gosh, Red Caps are terrible, I’m so glad the Ministry keeps us safe from them! Or oooooo, water horse, ewwww ghoul, nasty, and bogarts we already know about them but did you know - ”
“MR POTTER!!!!”
“Oh,” letting his face crumple into near tears Harry whispered "I’m sorry, I just love the ministry so much and I got this from there and….”
The bitch had no idea what to do about him and his preschool joyful actions and love of the ministry and his book of monsters that the fucked up place had put out right about the time he was born and said faintly “Yes, indeed, very good.” And the class finally settled into copying notes from the board as his book was taken away but he was assured he’d get it back because she knew anyone who loved the ministry was a good boy no matter what she’d heard about him.
He even got a gold star which he’d treasure forever, really.
*
“So who’s a fucking little suck up eh?”
Looking at the kids clustered in the hall he sighed, “Are you all really that stupid?”
“Oh, clearly you are if you think like that but, in order to avoid the what, twelve to one beat down you are clearly planning, because far be it to attack the actual target of your rage and of course you would take it out on me instead cause you always do, how about I just tell you what to do.”
“Those of you who have parents and people who love you, unlike me," waving a hand, "all of you, why not write home and complain to your families, send memories and shit, I don't care, but have them fight your battles for you and don't take it out on me.”
“If the bitch wants little kiddies in class, then be a kiddy, do the work she wants, and complain to people who can change it and not to me, now, piss off.”
Shoving through the gobsmacked group he made it around the next corner and wanted to throw up but kept it down and hurried on, Potions next.
In potions Snape wanted a silent dunderhead, which was a shame, because Harry would have liked doing good in that class….
The spell in his book mocked him briefly and he shuddered, he knew how to do school this way, be what each teacher wanted and no more than that and it was okay but he needed to do better because one day he’d graduated and what then so….. The spell would force him to do school differently.
He didn't want to.
Easing into his single seat, no one would partner with him because of his grades bringing them down, only Longbottom was worse but his best friend Granger kept with him.
A sweeping gesture from their professor and the potion appear on the board and in any other situation Harry’d have relaxed, it was an easy one, but instead he ducked down as he got ingredients out, he’d sabotage the newts eyes, substitute salamander instead, it would give a non dangerous boil over, so safe enough.
As expected, his potion boiled over and he got the lowest possible grade, but it was a passing grade because after the boil over, his potion was still a weak version of the one he’d been told to make.
Good enough, but not good.
*
Still not having done his book's spell Harry stayed behind in charms and forced himself to ask, “Professor, will you teach me to duel?”
“Mr Potter, this is an unexpected request.”
“I know, but, over the summer I thought it might be interesting and you do it so I thought I'd ask and….”
Winding down under the intense and scornful expression of the teacher Harry expected the answer.
“No Mr Potter, I do not think that is a good use of our time and energy. Dueling takes drive, and you seem to be sadly lacking in that quality and bla bla bla - ” Harry honestly stopped listening at that point.
Lack of drive, lack of talent, lack of energy, lack of lack of lack of anything a teacher wanted but when he did well, back in first year when he tried so hard… he was cheating, trying too hard, a suck up, a….
Teachers and students alike had shown him that doing only just good enough was where they all wanted him, same as in muggle school, and he’d done it exactly like that for years.
But he didn't want that now, he wanted to live.
It was a simple thing he’d done, just a tiny little listening charm in Professor Mcgonagall's office, just a test really because Harry needed to know it worked and it had.
He’d heard the entire meeting between the Headmaster and his Head of House when she was asking him what to do about her student Harry having no friends and doing so poorly in class and wow, had he ever learned some things.
All about how he would have to die to defeat the big bad villain so it was good he was so bad in class, how he was tied to them somehow, he didn’t understand because the fucker didn't tell her even though she'd asked, but how if Harry could fight he’d fight back, if he had people to love and care for he’d not want to leave them so with a life so terrible dying would be easy for him.
The way his Head of House had yelled was nice but she’d fallen into line and treated him no differently after that meeting, and he'd asked about help with the animagus change because maybe he’d get something big and powerful or small and fast to help him live but she’d brushed him off…..
Sirius might have helped him, if he'd lived, but he and Pettigrew both had died back when Harry was thirteen and Remus, well, his death later that same year was it for anyone who might have helped Harry live.
It was all on him.
But he was lazy, and needed to do better, needed to not be what each teacher expected of him, and in anger he swept his wand in transfiguration and made a perfect tea pot and…. gotten scolded for it.
Scolded because his wand movements were too wide, too big, that temper was not the way to do it and his perfect tea pot was ignored.
Summoning up his inner strength to fight back failed, he remained silent and shrunk into himself as always and hated it all.
But at dinner he looked at the serving spoons and flinched when his spell once again burst into his mind.
*
Transfiguring a piece of rubble from the path down to care of magical creatures into the shape he needed Harry held, late that night, hidden behind the privacy of his sound proofed and warded curtains….
A paddle.
The spell was simply called Don't Do That and it took a feeling and applied it to an action, cause and effect really.
Looking at the spell again he smacked the tiny paddle into his hand, not much bigger than the head of a wooden serving spoon really and then, trying to get the angle right, on hand and knees he reached back and smacked it down.
The angle was wrong, he hit his hip, and hardly enough to feel it, never mind hurt.
The next few tries didn't do much better, even giving it a longer handle didn't help, so he sat bare assed with it in hand and worked through the problem again.
If he needed a spur to do better, then he could link this spell to him swearing, which he really didn't do much of, and when he needed to drive himself to do better he’d swear, get a spank from the spell, and it would force him to do better, because ouch.
Checking his list of swears to key the spell to, he had the mild ones that would get him one smack: Arse, Arsehole, Shit, Hell, Bollocks and Prick.
Then the stronger ones, Bastard, Bellend, Dick and Dickhead, which would get two smacks.
Finally the worst one he knew was Fuck which would get three.
But to key the bloody - a word he was leaving free of the spell so he could keep using it - spell in he had to have proper smacks to use and, if his own efforts were too feeble then, oh, how would wingardium leviosa work, especially as he knew how to manipulate an object once lifted?
With trepidation he got back into place and levitated the paddle into position and, with a gulp he focused on the words of the first list, getting them firmly in mind, practically tasting them on his tongue as he pulled the spell from the pages into a feeling of power settling into the air around him and said the words like a chant and activated the spell and flicked the levitated paddle down on his left ass cheek and “FUCK!”
Reaching back he frantically rubbed the sting cause “Holy hell!” which was a mistake because the entire point of the spell was to teach him, according to the spell anyway, to not swear!
The exact feeling of the paddle landing hit again and he only just didn't swear again by a desperate effort and did in fact sniffle and rub the area desperately cause he’d clearly done the spell and the spank right.
But now he had to do it for the middle level swears, the two spank ones, because if he was doing this he was doing it right!
Sucking a deep breath the spell rushed into a presence, almost alive and certainly eager, and the paddle was still in place as it hovered ominously while he stared at the words and, speaking them aloud the paddle landed twice with what must be a subconscious effort to do it right because he’d intended to do two pats with just a hint of fire, just a reminder but instead they landed with hot fierce blossoms of flame and he squealed and rolled and rubbed with both hands because the left spank had landed lower, right on the undercurve and the right one had landed higher to match the very first one and it HURRRRT!!!!
“Ow ow ow ow oh aaaaaaaah no no no no swears ow ow owowowowowwwww!”
It took him a long time to finish the spell fully, the worst word would get three, and he already knew it wouldn't let him not match the first spanks, it had to be the spell because he was a coward, would have only done a token spank the second time, dreaded the third but….
He had to do better, and this would help, he was sure of it!
If he’d had parents, if they were as traditional as he’d overheard Professor McGonagall say they were when he was eavesdropping, then it was fairly likely they’d have done this, or something like it, or even coming to the school and spanking his ass in the great hall for a few of the things he’d done so far at school so, thinking about having a dad he got back into place, focusing on having a mum he looked at the word, the worst word he knew, and said it with the firm intent for three spanks to be earned by saying it in future and the paddle -
He cried.
The paddle had made sure to not miss anywhere, and with the numbers each side of his poor bottom had gotten three spanks each, and it was so bad, the stupid little paddle not much bigger than his hand had been evil, somehow grown or something because his entire ass hurt, burned, he rolled and whimpered and sobbed aloud as he frantically rubbed at a burning that didn't go away!
It did fade though, slowly as he calmed down, why it was making him so emotional he didn't know, it was supposed to be a simple bit of negative reinforcement, a brief sting and done but he burst into renewed weeping and simply hugged his pillow as emotions surged out of his control and he wished, oh how he wished his mum and dad were still alive.
*
Waking slowly he felt heavy in his body but much lighter in his mind and rolled over and yelped, because the sting was still there!
Not anywhere near as bad but perhaps it was a spell bleed back or something because it was still there enough to roll sharply off his back and onto his knees as he gathered up the pages and books and transfigured the paddle back into a rock and tucked it away and did his morning getting ready things and lept down the stairs three at a time.
Warmed up properly he felt pretty great, other than sitting on a hard bench that is, cause that wasn't very nice at all and he suddenly wondered, how bad was a proper spanking, like the one that other student got that time, cause if seven with a paddle was this bad, he didn’t ever want more!
*
Something was up with Potter!
Today he’d looked at the instructions, double checked them in the book, looked terribly worried and deeply stressed, said the word Shit too softly to be called out on and then -
A full body flinch, gasp, and a moment of eyes scrunched shut reaction to something and then his eyes had opened with determination and -
He’d brewed a perfect potion.
Perfect.
In every way.
It was impossible to cheat in potions……
The thought took up residence and would not let go, it was impossible to cheat in potions to do better.... but not to do worse.
Surging frustration and disappointed rage and he throttled it back, this was something he could check, and if he was right.
He truly did not know what to do about it.
*
Getting called in to the head of house’s office was the first time Harry could get to his spy spell after summer break, a passive listening thing like a web made of fog, he’d modeled it after a black hole he’d heard about back in muggle school, because he knew detection spells and tech were things, so he'd thought if his spell charm device thingy sucked in anything it heard, and sucked in any bit of detection spell that touched it but let the rest of it alone, then the tiny loss wouldn't be noticed, and the spy thing wouldn’t be noticed either, and it worked.
It was the size of his little fingernail, looked like a bit of dirty cobweb in the crack of the chair leg, and would dump its load of information into his little crystal container when he brought it close enough.
Like now as he said “Yes please.” to tea.
He’d always say yes to tea, it was his favorite!
“Mr Potter, I have been meaning to check in about your defense classes, you seem to be acting….”
“Acting….”
“Strangely?” He offered and she laughed and agreed, “Yes, strangely.”
“Oh, it's because she likes to hurt kids and I don't want to give her a reason to hurt me.”
It was worth a try anyway, so he added, “I think the thing she makes students write lines with in detention is cursed, so yeah, I don't want to do anything to get in trouble so I do what she wants and say how great the ministry is, which she loves.”
“After all, if no one is stopping her from using something bad on the kids it must be alright for her to do it, and I don't have anyone to protect me from her so, if she likes me to act like a little kiddie, then I will.”
“I did tell the rest of my class how to do it but they keep fighting with her instead so, yeah.”
*
Every single word out of the child's mouth was worse than the last, and Minerva didn't know what to do with any of it.
The evil bitch was immovably placed in the classroom so she’d been telling her lions to keep their heads down, to behave in class, that they were working on it….
But to learn this one of her lions was as manipulative as a snake was a shock almost as bad as the cursed object being used on students.
But…..
Dumbledore couldn't act against a ministry officially placed teacher but, if the charge was true about a cursed object, then she could.
“Where does she keep this item Mr Potter?”
“Has no one else told you about it professor? Oh, well, I guess not really but if what I’ve heard is true she puts them on the desk for people to use, so I don't know where they are, she has way more than one though because she had half the class in detention last night, the production of Murtlap sap is going to run out at this rate.”
“May I go now?”
Waving the perplexing and deeply upsetting child away she called the Weasley twins to her next, because they could set up earning a detention and she could sweep in and prove the wrong doing and bang goes the evil toad.
‘Although,’ she thought to herself as she waited, ‘actual toads are fairly pretty creatures.’
*
The entire school was there to see Dolores Umbridge be arrested for the illegal use of cursed objects against students in her care and gave a standing ovation to the aurors who took her away.
It was beautiful, and Harry gave himself the reward he’d tweaked the Don't Do That spell to give, the feeling of a hug.
He’d had the thought and hunted down Hagrid, had tripped and fallen and scraped his knee and gotten it bandaged up and then, awesome indeed, he’d asked for a hug and gotten one, an all encompassing enveloping hug that he’d keyed into the spell already hovering primed and ready around him and used the word, Result to key it in.
Result, a word often used with a plan came together or the like, so no one would notice his using it softly to himself.
Closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of hug, the screams, and the relief of her being gone, he would miss the gold stars though, seeing as he was the only one to ever get them!
***
Holding his test in his hands Harry felt -
“Oh my fucking gods, oh shit, oh noooooo!”
The whisper of utter dread pretty well summed up how Harry himself was feeling, although without the profanity.
Harry was dead careful to not use any now, unless he meant it, and he’d had to adapt the spell slightly so his one spank swears happened randomly on either side rather than just one, because his two most difficult classes that needed him to focus and concentrate, that he used swears the most in were on the same bloody day, so in pure defense of his poor left ass cheek he’d switched it up.
But now, listening to - “Oh dear, did Ronnikins forget what dad said would happen OH WOW, oh, mate, you are so dead.”
“Nawwww he isn't, but when dad said he’d let mum take care of the spanking if baby bro’s grades were this low he did sign a death warrant to his sitting down ever again, like, he is gonna get to go home tonight for dealing with this grade!”
“Shut up shut up shut up!” Ron was saying, once again exactly what Harry was thinking because…..
He’d been coasting again.
Not in potions, not in transfiguration, not in care of, not in herbology because anyone who took their eyes off the plants in there deserved to be eaten, never mind a low grade but in charms….
Charms with a professor already against him, already refusing to help him get better, he’d just stopped trying, again.
Looking at the grade in a sweaty hand he flinched at, “Well, at least someone doesn't have to care how low their grades are, no one at home to - ”
The smack that shut Ron up was nice but not enough to stop the hot fog from filling Harry's chest, to stop the hot full feeling behind his nose. Gathering his stuff Harry left the noise behind, lest he cry where anyone could see, because they were right.
No one cared.
But his mum‘n dad would have cared, and he had to care or else he’d die, he’d had time to listen to all the information caught over the summer from his head of house’s office, six weeks into term now and his parents would have cared about a grade that low, would have done to him exactly what Ron was facing.
Would his dad be the one or would his mum have done it?
Did it matter when they were both dead?
He’d had a plan for this, a laughing never gonna happen no way on earth kind of plan and he sat late that night with his abysmal test grade in front of him and thought, ‘I need to do better.’
‘My life is on the line, never mind anyone caring about me.’
Pulling out the spell he slowly wrote the words, I must do better.
I can do better.
I will do better.
His rock was still tucked into the bed frame and he slowly, with great reluctance yet easily and on the first try, transfigured it into a ruler.
Heavy wooden version, wide and long and usually not scary at all, the kind they used in runes all the time, and in drawing ritual designs inside of circles in arithmancy.
Slowly pulling the spell into life, his curtains always sound proofed and warded and protected now, as the spell built he tugged his sleep shorts down.
Levitating the ruler he got up on all fours and looked down at his lines.
This had to be like what he’d get from people who cared about him and no one did, but he could pretend.
Pretend it was his mum who’d give the first ones, then his dad.
Make it real in his head so it was real across his ass so it was real in class so he fucking did better and lived.
Tugging the spell sharply to life he said, "I must do better!”
As if it had a life of its own the ruler landed three measured times, swift cracks across his delicate posterior and he choked at the sensation, beginning to cry already as he kept his hands firmly on the bed, and said, “I can do better!”
This time he yelled and bucked as the ruler landed three more times, intentionally landing on skin not already kissed by the damned thing and he was crying harder now as he blinked tears away just enough to say.
“I will do better!”
This time he couldn't help it, he shifted and wriggled as his ass tried to dodge without his telling it to but the ruler landed regardless as he yelled and gripped the blankets tight enough to not let go and this time too it landed on the only bits not spanked yet, stripes of fire and he knew, knew for this offense his parents would give more, that if it was imaginary mum who’d given the ones already, then imaginary dad would -
“I have to do better!”
Yelling as the feeling of ruler sprang to life through the spell now, sound in his own ears only as it smacked down he sobbed, gasping cries as he managed to say, “I can do better!” and now he bawled in regret of having dared coast again in class!
Unsure how he managed to even think the words, never mind say them he must have managed “I will do better!” because, even rolled over to hide his ass, the magic of the spell had the ruler landing three eternal measured times and he wailed!
Sorry to his soul for having done it, ass on fire the likes of which his paddle had never EVER managed to produce he swore to never coast again, to be good forever! “Mum I’m sorry sorry sorry dad won’t do it again swear be good be good….”
He would, for ever, and as his cries got softer and he curled over the covers through not being able to care enough about getting under them his mouth said the word result and the feeling of hug surrounded him and he broke into renewed weeping but it was like his parents hugging him after teaching him better.
Thinking of them as he fell into slumber, he didn't remember his dreams when he woke but he smiled anyway.
*
Knowing Ronald Weasley had been sent home the night before to deal with a shockingly low grade, Severus was expecting the boy to shift and squirm and be majorly and visibly uncomfortable, was planning to enjoy it even because the brat was a dangerous distraction in class, and one of his worst students.
What he wasn't expecting was for Potter to be mirroring the behavior, even if silently and with his head down as he tried to hide it, because who on earth would take that one to task for a bad grade?
No one had visited the school, he knew that, and the brat hadn’t left it because he was at dinner, Severus had seen him, and Weasley had gone home right after last class, and if Potter had been sent home he’d have gone then.
And Albus always said that Potter had a loving family that spoiled him, so even if he got bad grades then so what, no family that spoiled a child would take them to task for a low grade.
But the brat was clearly in significant discomfort sitting on the hard wooden stools and the mystery robbed Severus of any pleasure in the brat's discomfort.
Especially as he'd somehow morphed into one of his best students, brewing in dead silence, producing near perfect potions all of the time.
He’d even asked a clarifying question in class the day before, approaching it like he would a sleeping Nundu and not making eye contact and using no more words than needed but he’d done it.
Grinding his teeth together when he could come up with no way to even ask the question of his own, but who on earth had spanked Harry Potter and why?
*
Sitting on hard seats the day after being spanked was terrible, looking back at his tiny sting from the swearing paddle he laughed because this fire was relentless, was awful, was driving the lesson of doing better home hard, and in charms Harry focused, paid attention, and while he dared not ask a question he took notes and made sure to list anything he needed to look up after.
And after dinner he sat in the library and looked each thing up, focusing properly to help remember it, so clearly the ruler worked.
*
Standing in the library shrouded from the students, simply here for a restricted access book, Severus paused and watched Potter for a long moment.
Alone, working on something, charms ah, of course, having figured it out he was about to turn away when the child made a sound of frustration and -
Pain.
“It won't work, he won’t answer, just yell at me but, I can, I can do this……”
The muttering died away and Severus collected his book and left but only to the teachers lounge.
As a spy unanswered questions were deadly.
*
Cheating, Flitwick had accused the child of cheating, because he got good grades at the beginning of the year.
“Yes, I was sorry to take him to task for it but we can’t have that, not anyone and certainly not him!”
But, it was as impossible to cheat in charms as it was in potions, even if the disciplines themselves were totally different.
Charms either worked, or not, and if not you put more power into them and they worked or you ran out of power.
Simple.
So to accuse a child of cheating when they clearly did not then it was no wonder when they failed to do well.
However, that state of affairs could not stand, because Severus himself wouldn't stand for it.
“Potter, Malfoy, remain behind!”
Draco looked interested, Potter flinched.
Logic and precision were Severus’ gods, when love failed, when devotion failed, when service failed, when all of life failed him, those two remained.
Remained to be a double edged sword that cut him as often as he cut the world with them and it cut him now, because he'd not used logic in his dealing with Potter, he’d used left over rage and pain and the tattered remains of the angst and trauma of the hurt child he himself had once been.
Not now though, now he was using his eyes and brain at last when he said, “Draco, you will tutor Potter in Charms.”
“And Potter, you will give Draco flying lessons.”
“And before either of you,” - his glare had Draco snapping his mouth shut, Potter simply looked too baffled to even protest - “says a word, You Draco are skilled at charms more than any other class, even my own, and Potter has come on leaps and bounds in this one yet is struggling in Charms.”
“He is however a natural in the air, and you are good in the air but he is better, and can teach you.”
“I WILL have the quidditch cup this year, I will not break our record now we have regained it, and the only reason we regained it is because Potter stopped playing for Gryffindor.”
“A move I applaud you for, because anyone who is blamed for any loss and suspect of cheating and foul doings for every win should keep themself safe, removing themselves from the situation, even if that situation is a game they enjoy.”
Ignoring the glaze of tears in green eyes he continued, “You each have a free study period every day of the week so you will alternate days of being the tutor, and days of being the student, Sunday you both have free.”
“And boys,” he gave a smile to chill the blood, “I know you can work together on this, because in life we gain most by working with challenges, and difficult people, not sycophantic hangers on.”
“Now, get out.”
*
Sycophantic hangers on, now Severus had pointed it out that really was all Draco had, but Potter? He didn't even have that but with the graciousness he’d been taught he gave Potter the first period of their joint studies and followed him out into the -
Rain
Gods Draco hated the British climate!
Not even being given time to speak, Harry said, “I haven't been on a broom in almost a year, let's just fly?”
“Sounds good.”
Kicking off Draco decided to just stick to Potter and see how that worked, which, as he lay panting on the sodden ground an hour later was probably not the wisest choice he’d ever made but by gods, he was alive, and that was good enough!
Managing “You are crazy!” he gave up and fell asleep right on the grass, in the rain, from what on paper would have been a simple game of follow the leader.
*
Draco made charms make sense!
And he made them make sense and work right, and even more importantly the theory behind them made sense too once he explained it, so the big end of month test was something Harry was looking forward to, especially as Flitwick did the written first and graded them as they all did the practical, so he’d know his grades nice and fast.
He was expecting to do good, as he worked on the block of marble after the written bit, trying to charm away enough to make something artistic, the charmed off stone became dust to be banished with a second charm.
It was the vision of artistic he was struggling with but even if he just made a smaller cube it would be a pass so to hear, “Harry Potter, I am most displeased to have a repeat of cheating on a test, I thought we’d sorted this problem out!”
Gobsmacked, utterly speechless Harry didn't have to speak because Malfoy surged to his feet and demanded, “HOW DARE YOU?”
“How dare you accuse him of cheating when you know he’s being tutored, getting the help he is supposed to be getting from you you smug pompous useless git!”
And he would have kept going, Harry knew this, knew him well enough after a solid month of working together to know he was revved up and would get in trouble because he had parents and a godfather who cared so Harry too got to his feet and said, voice shaking as he tried to keep Draco out of trouble for defending him Harry said, "Prove it!”
“Right now, prove I cheated.”
Casting his mind frantically for ways on to how to proceed, even before the teacher backed down, and Harry could clearly see he was going to, “No! You don't get to just say it’s okay because people will say I did something to you, or cheated anyway, or did some heir of Slytherin shit.” - a flinch and mutter from half the class as well as the teacher - “and NO!”
“Right now, transfigure a desk of glass, a stool of glass too, and give me the test again, and I’ll take it again, and you all can see me fully, no hidden cheat sheets, no hidden anything at all.”
“Go on, I’ll prove I didn't cheat!”
“Because you can't prove I did but I’ll sure and heck prove I didn't!”
*
Watching Harry take the test again, clear glass showing all of him so no hidden anything at all could get past the eyes of the entire class, a fresh block of marble was put in place as the professor graded the test and showed the mark, high indeed and then just to prove how this shit went, Justin Finch Fletchley said, “Well, of course you get a high mark, you already knew the questions!”
The air in the room almost froze as crackles of power crawled along the floor, ran up the walls, flowed out across the ceiling as every hair in the room stood on end and Harry said, “Yeah, it only needed that!”
Eyes glowing electric green, mouth a rictus grin of rage and hurt and betrayal and pain and a longing deep enough to dry Draco’s mouth utterly his not friend at all cast his wand wordlessly at the block of stone and it exploded into a dust cloud that fell slowly away to nothing and revealed a figure of
Beauty
And pathos
A baby dragon, hatchling, backed into a corner of two walls of stone, tiny wings raised to make itself look bigger.
Tiny spikes raised helplessly as it snarled defiance and terror at whatever had it pinned, cornered, helpless….
More dragons died as hatchlings than ever lived to adulthood, and this one was clearly about to die, spitting defiance but doomed regardless and it was the most perfect representation of an emotion Draco’d ever seen.
Not letting anyone spoil the moment, power still snapping and snarling around his not friend Draco gently took their wrist and tugged him out of the staring contest he was having with the professor and led him from the room.
Down the hall.
Out of the door and said, “Your broom, get it out.”
He had his in hand fast enough to say, "You follow me now!”
By the time he’d flown Harry out of the emotions of the classroom Draco was tired to his bones, but on the ground he did indeed catch his friend and hold him as he sobbed, because how dare they treat him like that!
*
Slamming into the teacher lounge Severus snarled, "How DARE you?”
“How dare you accuse a child of cheating in front of an entire classroom full of people you KNOW dislike him at best and hate him at worst and you fucking ARM THEM AGAINST HIM? In a subject it isn’t POSSIBLE TO CHEAT YOU FUCKING ASS WIPE!”
Slashing his hand sideways to shut fucking Albus up he hissed at the stunned charms teacher, “You dare treat him one fraction of an inch differently than the rest of the students from this moment on and I will personally file a complaint of zero trust in you, I vow it!”
Sweeping forward he picked up the chunk of stone that he knew Harry had given to Draco and said, "This belongs to a student!”
Leaving with a dramatic flare he’d long mastered he had Mipsey from the kitchens take him directly to the dungeons, where he’d left the boys asleep on conjured couches, and placed the -
He had no words for the stunning thing he was looking at now.
Finer than life, emotions made stone, even more amazingly it was created with a simple banishing charm.
He’d inspected the classroom as well, the scored grooves and char marks of out of control magic that had blazed within, it was a wonder no one had died, never mind beauty created.
Sighing he agreed to tea with an absent “Yes please, and food for the boys when they awaken as well please.”
“Yes Snapesees.”
Why they all turned his name into that he had no idea but all the asking in the world hadn't changed it, to all house elves everywhere he was Snapesees, and that was final.
Drinking tea and pondering the weird twist of fate his life had taken, Severus continued to look at the cornered dragon, and knew that was Harry, and how to help him out of that corner before something truly bad happened was a puzzle he needed to solve, and swiftly!
*
He’d managed to put a word capture spell into Dumbledore's office the day after he’d blown up in charms, and he’d gotten lectured on self control and respect and doing better and about all he'd managed to do was not scream at the man and plant his little web.
People were avoiding him now even worse than usual, good and bad really, good that they left him alone and bad because he was lonelier than ever.
Thank gods for Draco, which was not a thought he’d ever have imagined having in his life.
But his first ever friend, pratt and spoilt brat that he was, was also pretty cool and fun to be around.
*
Manufacturing a reason to go into the headmaster's office a few weeks after the great cheating moment wasn't too difficult, he just said he had something to ask and then once in, gathered the contents of his web as the man whittered about making tea which never even got poured never mind drunk when Harry said, “I wanted to ask you about my parents, and why Professor Snape hated my father.”
Funny thing, for a man all about trust and believing the best and second chances, Dumbledore all but booted Harry down the stairs as he said, “That is private between them my boy, I couldn't possibly speak of it!"
*
Something was wrong with Potter.
Clearly Draco had noticed as well because he was looking more over at Potter than at his own cauldron, but it was Harry that was concerning, blank eyes stared at an empty table, not even a fire lit, and Severus swerved off his line of checking on desks and progress and caught the boy up and swept him out of the classroom and into his private resting room in his labs.
“Sit, drink.”
Obeying without hesitating, before the child's eyes closed he reached up and clutched Severus’ arm and croaked, “Do you know what a horcrux is?”
Falling to the dreamless sleep dose before Severus could manage any answer, for a long moment he stood frozen, and then went back to class, but not before, with a wave of his wand, switching school robes for pajamas and settling the boy onto the couch, under soft warm blankets
Horcrux.
Yes, Severus knew what that was, but how in all that was holy did the child of Potter know that name?
*
Looking at the tiny fragile web Severus said, “I would have sold my soul for this during the war, and you are never to tell fucking Albus about this little delight, do you understand me Harry?”
As it was the first time he’d used the child's name, he expected the surprise, but not the flush of pleasure, and he coughed, “Now, tell me all about it!”
*
Most of what Harry’d gotten from his head of house’s office was silence and the turning of pages. Occasionally she’d have a visitor, and he'd learned loads of gossip as well as bits about himself and his history and past and how they all saw him.
Disposable in many ways was how they saw him, or a distorted mirror of his parents, unworthy of being theirs, disappointing.
But mostly silence.
Professor Dumbledore talked all the time!
To Fawks mostly, but to the portraits too and they spied for him all the fucking time, bringing him not proper things to keep students and staff safe but gossip and who was snogging who and it was embarrassing really and Harry vowed to never even say a word never mind snog someone where a painted voyeur might see and yap about it to the headmaster!
But some of what the man nattered about was dark, and dangerous, and now, finally, Harry knew why he’d been left with the Dursleys, why he was made to go back every summer, what was in his scar that made it hurt like it did, why the dark lord wanted him dead, how he’d survived and what the headmaster thought was going to be his final fate, dead at the hands of the fucking dark wanker so the dark pratt could die too.
Because Dumbledore worked on it all like a puzzle all the time, and in the man's defense he was trying to save Harry, just, not too hard because he saw him as a dead boy walking.
Guilt making maybe but worth killing if everyone else got to live.
But because he was working on it at least a bit his habit of talking all the time let Harry put the pieces together so now, instead of his usual silence in the face of the horrors of life he let it all out.
All of it, and then drank whatever it was Professor Snape gave him and slept again.
*
A lamb to slaughter.
But at least the lamb had the green fields and a mother’s love before it met its end.
Harry Potter had abuse and suffering, isolation and -
Fists clenched tight enough to cut his palms even with how short he kept his nails, Severus tried to keep from screaming.
Horcrux, one in the boy, several out in the world, and an old man with all that information playing at saving the world, hardly even bothering to try and save the lamb.
Yet a lamb grows to a sheep and gives wool for decades if only it gets to live….
What would Harry Potter do for the world if only he got to live?
Trying for calm he sat, and summoned Poppet, his personal elf, inherited from - he flinched and swore as she appeared on his lap rather than beside him and gave a helpless laugh, “Please Poppet, I need any book possible to find dealing with soul containers and horcruxes, will you get them for me?”
“Of course Snapesees, and,” she leaned closer, almost nose to nose, “I be’z gettings youz tea.”
With a whisper of air rushing into where she’d been he didn't hold his breath on the tea, but knew the books would be there soon, she was a fierce librarian but a dreadful cook and her tea would work for washing down a floor perhaps, if you wanted to strip the paint from it, or as a murder weapon, so he softly asked the air, “Mipsey?”
“Tea Snapesees, I bez hearings.”
“Thank you my friend, and if you could make sure she eats as well that would be wonderful.”
Once bonded to an elf, that elf would die if cast off, unless they could find another master to fasten their magic to, and no one in their right mind wanted an elf like Poppet, so he couldn't get rid of her, or foist her off on anyone, although perhaps Potter might like an elf?
A pop and several stacks of books appeared beside him, Poppet cross legged on the floor reading one already, and perhaps he’d keep her, because most of the books came from other noble houses and royal libraries and hidden collections rather than his own library.
He didn't know how, but she could get in anywhere and loved nothing better than to steal books.
Yes, he’d keep her, but never again trust her tea, he’d nearly died the last time!
*
Unlike every other adult he’d ever been forced to work with, Professor Snape simply told him the truth.
Unvarnished, un cut, just true shit and left it to him to figure what he wanted to do with the information.
And when Harry did figure it out, using all the information he’d been given, Snape advised him how to go about it, and then trusted Harry enough to do it.
Breathing deeply on the front step of Privet drive he snatched the door open, using his new near powerless wand he‘d made himself but it had no trace, and it worked for simple things, such as unlocking a fucking door.
Even thinking the word had him reflexively wincing, but as soon as his uncle stormed at him he aimed his wand right between his piggy eyes and flared a bright light and said, “Touch me and you die. Speak to me, you die. Talk about me to anyone and I’ll turn you into a guinea pig, buy a python, and feed you to it.”
“Only I’ll do it after I do that to Dudders and Petunia while you watch.”
“See if I don't!”
Gliding calmly up the stairs in as grand and evil a manner as he could manage he got into the rubbish bedroom and closed the door behind him, breathing deeply as he settled in, eating food already in his trunk.
Food he'd gone into the trunk to eat because he now had an entire world in there, all his worldly goods rattling around seven bedrooms and work rooms and potions labs and charms workshops and kitchens and retiring rooms and living rooms and games rooms and a swimming pool and tennis courts and loads more like gardens and an orangery and rooms and rooms and rooms stuffed with beautiful things - Professor Snape had retrieved it from somewhere, said it was a Potter family item so belonged to him by rights and made it fit in Harry’s school trunk and it was just one more way magic was awesome, how it put entire worlds inside of tiny spaces because once inside it was bright and clean and amazing so he sat beside the fire after dinner until he got sleepy and then went to bed, setting an alarm to get him up nice and early.
As it was the first day of the Christmas holidays, he had so much to do and so little time to do it in!
*
Gringotts.
The most powerful place in the wizarding world, even if most wizards were too stupid to figure it out.
Harry walked softly, asked politely for help, and sat in a private room and said, “Thank you for seeing me, I want to hire a curse breaker team please.”
“Why?”
Professor Snape said goblins were to the point and that he’d need to be as well so Harry said, “Because I have a horcrux of Voldemort in my head and there are an unknown number of them out there so I need a team to save my life and get rid of all the rest of them so someone other than me can kill him.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, because I’m a kid, and this is grown up shit.”
He didn't yelp as the effects of the blasted paddle landed but it did focus him on target again, even if he huffed at the sting, “I will pay whatever it takes, as the sole - ” “Yes of course Mr Potter, we know you can pay.”
“Now, our terms are these.”
*
Looking at his trunk, his travel card, and the ferry time table Harry sent Professor Snape a letter, and then the Malfoys.
Dear Professor Snape,
I did the thing I said I was going to do and that issue is now a work in progress, although the most problematic part of it has indeed been sorted, a ritual I’d never heard of plus a container and as I said, not even the memory will scar now.
Now though I have reconsidered returning to Hogwarts and instead I am going to travel while the rest of the issue is permanently resolved.
Would you be interested in the position of tutor and teacher of one student for certain and perhaps two, if I can get my companion to join me.
The boat leaves at fifteen hundred from Portsmouth, I have a cabin booked, join me there if you agree and please rest assured, you are worth triple your current salary to me, and the work should be more interesting as I plan to see as much of the world as it is possible to do.
Regards
Harry Potter
His second one was a bit more up in the air but he sent it anyway.
Dear Malfoy Parents,
This school year I became good friends with your son Draco and his companionship is valuable to me, so valuable I wish to secure his company on my travels, starting now and across the next few years.
In order to ensure the best possible education I have hired his godfather Severus Snape as both teacher and guide and guardian as we explore first Europe and then Asia and perhaps farther.
Is there a sum of money you would be happy with my paying you for your son and heir joining me upon my voyage of discovery?
Regards
Harry Potter
The dramatic and very grumpy owl that brought him the first letter took a stasised mouse and part of Harry’s finger in a single snap before swooping out the window and he couldn't help grinning like a fool even as he bandaged it.
Yes.
On my way!
S.S.
And the elegant owl that remained for an answer brought him….
Dear Harry Potter,
We could feel comfortable with your hiring our son as a companion for the sum of -
Blinking in shock at the zeros he took out the already prepared card, put a drop of blood, his, onto it and spoke the amount.
Removing his finger the blood was gone, the amount paid onto the card and he gave it to the owl, after giving it a mouse that it took with dainty grace and a happy hoot.
Shrinking his trunk he tucked it in his pocket, left the house with a firm, “Good bye, you’ll never see me again, and while you don't deserve it, I do hope you’re happy without me, because I am going to be thrilled without you.”
“Oh, and you can keep the house, I have loads.”
*
The Knight bus was terrible but it got him to the docks hours early, yet Draco was already there, and only three minutes after they met up with excited yells Severus strolled up to them and sighed, “Well, this might be better than Hogwarts, I guess.”
Both boys laughed and they headed into the departure lounge for tea as they waited, cold winters sunlight sparkling upon the water like a promise of a brand new day.
*
A few weeks into the trip Severus looked up at Harry who’d just sworn softly as he worked on the lesson set for them both that day and huffed as he swept the Don't Do That spell away with a flick of his wand.
“You don't need that anymore Harry, I am here for you, and can provide any lessons you need, even if that help is in the form of a spanked bum.”
“Now, as it’s time for a break, lets see the book you got that spell out of, because it felt like a variant to the one once used on me, so, did you alter it or is the original - ”
As he’d removed the one on Draco only the day before he did Harry, both boys were fully engaged in the discussion of the ancient spell, and its modern applications and Severus smiled as they argued about it all, the way they so often did.
Having gotten word from the goblins about the successful destruction of two more of the dark items and how they were on the scent of several others, of all the things Severus had done in his life so far, he was most happy with the impulse decision to join Lily’s child on this mad adventure.
Happy endings never really happen in life, but happy right now was good enough for him!