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Other People's Choices	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 24374 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story

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Chapter Three—Radical
Severus watches as Potter slips into the Potions classroom and reluctantly approaches him. His efforts to speak to the boy before this have been fruitless. Potter eats a ten-minute meal in the Great Hall each morning, afternoon, and evening, and stays out of the Slytherin common room until the edge of curfew. With the usual bustle of the end of the year, Severus hasn’t even managed to catch him in class.
So this special meeting. Perhaps Potter thinks of it as detention. For Severus, it’s simple necessity.
Potter stands beside the chair in front of Severus’s desk, ignoring it as if it’s been there all the time, and stares at him. Severus slips gently beneath the surface of his thoughts. There’s the same relentless blaze of a thought that has been there from his Sorting: that he isn’t a Slytherin, that he doesn’t belong, that the Hat is mistaken.
Severus has to admit he thought the same thing. But watching the boy’s behavior over the past few days has altered his opinion.
Severus has made a pact with himself not to lose his temper this time. He motions with his chin at the chair. “Sit down, please, Mr. Potter.”
The boy blinks at him and slowly sits, his hands clenching the sides of the chair as if he expects it to tip forwards underneath him. Was it the “please” or the invitation to sit that did it?
That is one of the many questions that Severus hopes to answer through observation of the boy in the near future. He inclines his head. “We are long overdue for a conversation that I usually have with my first-year Slytherins.”
“I’m not a first-year Slytherin. Sir.”
Another strange thing, or at least strange at first: Potter, for all his thoughts, has been more respectful towards him since being re-Sorted. Severus believes he understands now, though. For Potter, the respectful titles are a distancing mechanism, letting him believe things haven’t changed. He isn’t warming up to Severus or changing his mind. He’s using demanded respect as a shield.
Or a weapon.
“All the more necessary for us to have it, then. I believe you know that I do not usually take points from Slytherin or assign you detentions?”
Them, say Potter’s thoughts, but he only nods.
“I do, however, talk with you when your behavior is what I deem unacceptable, or when you lose points in another class, or another professor assigns detention.”
“Please tell me what’s unacceptable about my behavior, sir.”
Sword and shield, indeed. “I wanted to know,” says Severus, “why you decided to go after the basilisk on your own.”
“Hermione was Petrified. Ron’s little sister was down there. We did try to take Lockhart, but he Obliviated himself.”
They are facts, offered hard as jewels, but Severus is more interested in the settings for those stones. “I mean, why not come to a professor when you learned from Granger’s handwriting that the creature was a basilisk, and tell us?”
“Because we tried to tell professors about the Philosopher’s Stone last year, and they just dismissed us. They told us to go play outside.” Potter stares at him as he quotes Severus’s own words.
Severus raises a silent eyebrow. “I see. And from that incident, you decided that you could never trust adults again?”
“Not to do something quickly enough. I would have gone to Professor Dumbledore, but he was gone from the school. So was Hagrid.” Severus nearly laughs aloud at the thought that Potter trusted Hagrid to handle a situation like this, but then, he knows Dumbledore sent Hagrid to fetch Potter from the Muggles his first year. It is unsurprising that they have become friends. “And Professor McGonagall was one of the people we tried to tell last year.”
“So you decided Lockhart was…?”
“At that point, we still thought he’d done all the things in his books,” Potter says uncomfortably, slumping in his chair and turning his face away. “We thought he could battle and defeat a basilisk.”
“He did not.”
“No. I did.”
There is the same blazing pride again, and all thoughts of shame or respect are gone now. Potter does not have Occlumency shields or anything like them, but he looks at Severus as proudly as if he did, his eyes shining like alicorn.
“You know that I will not allow you to do anything like that again?” Severus says casually, when a minute has passed in silence.
Potter says nothing, but once again, his mind is more eloquent than his face. I wasn’t planning on asking permission.
“You cannot go on risking your life,” Severus states softly, leaning forwards. “I was as firm with some of my Slytherins who tried to enter the third-floor corridor last year. I expelled two prefects who were practicing deadly curses in front of third-years this autumn.” Potter blinks as if shocked, but at that age, Severus knows, he himself paid no attention to the affairs of the upper years unless they were prefects trying to restrict his Dark Arts studies. “I will restrain you for your own good.”
Potter says nothing.
“And I will not allow you to damage the reputation of your House with continual loss of points and detentions, either,” Severus adds. “That means that I will be talking with you on a regular basis, more than the others, to make sure that you are settling in with your peers and becoming more comfortable in an academic environment. I feel that I do not know what your work is like, with Miss Granger’s tutoring having supplemented it for the past several years—”
“And Slytherins ruining it, too,” says Potter, with a blistering smile. “Don’t forget that part, sir.”
Severus pauses. He did not think Potter would bring that up. “If you are referring to Mr. Malfoy throwing various ingredients into your potions—”
“I am, sir.”
“You will not speak disrespectfully to me, Mr. Potter,” Severus warns gently, and watches the way that it changes not a taut muscle on Potter’s face. “Well. That will not happen now. Mr. Malfoy will not imperil his own House’s points.”
It takes him a moment to realize what is happening in the chair in front of him, where Potter is rocking without sound in a way that makes Severus think for a moment he was the target of a curse. But then he realizes that Potter is simply laughing, muffling the sound against one ragged sleeve.
“Tell me what is so funny, Mr. Potter.” Severus leans forwards and makes sure to look interested. He wouldn’t, if not for that pact with himself not to lose his temper.
Still laughing, Potter yanks up his left sleeve. Severus stares blankly at the large purple-black bruise there. It looks more recent than it would if Potter had received it in the struggle against the basilisk.
“Malfoy did this to me this morning,” Potter explains, shaking his head. “He tripped me down the stairs with a jinx I didn’t even see. No, he hates me too much to stop throwing things in my cauldron, sir. And he hates me even more because he thinks I’m going to take away his Seeker position.” He sighs and lets his sleeve fall back into place. “So really, you might as well let me sit over on the other side of the classroom with the Gryffindors again. Maybe the Sorting Hat and some of the Slytherins are willing to pretend that things have changed, but the rest of us know they haven’t.” He stands up and starts making his way to the door of the office, even though Severus hasn’t dismissed him.
“Mr. Potter.” Severus speaks the words without moving. Instincts that he hasn’t used in years tell him it wouldn’t be a good idea right now.
Trust dealing with a Potter to be more like open battle than simply meeting with one of my Slytherins.
“Yes?” Potter does stop walking, but he doesn’t turn around.
“Why didn’t you immediately come to me and report it when Mr. Malfoy used the tripping jinx on you?”
Potter turns around this time, his face so incredulous that Severus feels as though someone has slapped him. “What, sir? Are you serious? Why would you have done anything about it? I know Malfoy’s been a Slytherin a lot longer than me and you’ve ignored what he’s done in Potions, and anyway, it’s just a squabble because he thinks I don’t belong in Slytherin. I agree with him. What good would telling you have done?”
Severus casts a nonverbal charm that will only show results to him. It makes Potter’s arm glow with where other bruises are. Up his arm, almost to his shoulder. He must have fallen on his shoulder as he turned.
And then…
There is the soft glow that means the spell is trying to show something else. Severus casts a slightly different variation, and Potter’s collarbone shines. There’s a slight fracture in it. Perhaps not the kind of thing Potter would notice.
No, not the kind of thing he would report, Severus acknowledges, while Potter’s eyes widen. He can see the glow of this particular spell.
“What are you doing?” Potter has already crouched as though he’s going to strike out, his eyes fixed on Severus.
Severus still does not stand, those same instincts warning him. He pitches his voice into a flat tone instead, neither comforting—which Potter would distrust—nor doubtful—which could lose him Potter forever. “Your collarbone is slightly broken. Mr. Malfoy shall be punished for this.”
“You never did before!”
“Before, he was not attacking a fellow Slytherin.”
Oddly enough, those words make Potter straighten with a snap and stare hard at him. Then he snorts. “Forgive me for not thinking it’s a great standard that you only care if it’s someone in your House, sir,” he says. “Which I’m not. Which I never will be.”
He walks out the door.
“Potter! You must go to Madam Pomfrey!”
“Make me,” Potter says lightly over his shoulder, obviously never thinking that Severus would do such a thing.
Severus stands up and crosses the distance between them, delicately laying a hand on Potter’s back. It wasn’t a place that glowed. “Then come, since you insist,” he says, and steers Potter towards the hospital wing, ignoring the way that the boy gapes at him. It is not flattering, what Potter said. Severus will need some time to deal with it. But in the meantime, he will deal with what he can deal with.
“You don’t—you don’t have to do this!” Potter twists and almost gets away from Severus’s guiding hand, but Severus merely readjusts his position, not touching his arm or shoulder. “Why are you doing this?”
“As you have reminded me, perhaps my standards are not the most welcoming, but I will not change them in this direction,” Severus murmurs, and ignores the curious glances of Gryffindors who seem surprised Potter isn’t walking with them, which he’s made a habit of doing. “You don’t want to go home for the summer in pain, do you? Give your relatives the worry of seeing you like that?”
“They won’t care!”
That confirms some suspicions Severus has had. He says nothing for right now, only makes sure not to jostle or otherwise hurt Potter as he gets him into Madam Pomfrey’s care.
As it turns out, the fracture is more severe than it seemed, and Potter is unable to move his shoulder without pain. That he never complained, that he seems used to the agony and only rolls his eyes at Madam Pomfrey when she uses her diagnostic charms, tells Severus even more than the boy’s earlier remark did.
After making sure that Madam Pomfrey will keep Potter in the hospital wing until his bone has mended and his bruises are gone, Severus leaves. He has another Slytherin to meet with, and limits of proper behavior to set.
*
“Can you believe Professor Snape punished me? That little bastard went whining to him, I know he did! He could have drawn his wand and cursed me, but noooo, he had to go sniveling and crying to someone else instead…”
Blaise sighs and let his eyes rove away from the Daily Prophet in his lap up to the ceiling. Right now, the Prophet has nothing new to say and is only repeating its week-old articles about Lockhart’s duplicity and Hagrid’s release from Azkaban and Potter’s Sorting into Slytherin anyway.
But he can’t risk showing too much lack of interest in Draco’s little speech. Draco will pounce on that as a sign of “disrespect” and lecture him on it for hours, and Draco’s lectures are even more horrifying than his whining.
Beside Blaise, Theo shifts. Blaise looks at him, and sees to his intense surprise how much Theo is leaning forwards, his eyes narrowed. Most of the time, Theo doesn’t take that much part in Slytherin politics, because his own position is unassailable: so knowledgeable that he can help anyone with homework, a formidable father with plenty of money who escaped prosecution as a Death Eater, a Slytherin who never gets in trouble and therefore enjoys the favor of both Professor Snape and their other teachers. He could do things if he wanted, but he doesn’t want to.
Draco only rules in Slytherin as much as he does because Theo holds back.
And amazingly, it looks as though Theo’s changing that. He speaks right in the middle of Draco’s speech, not even waiting for him to come to the end of a sentence. “The way I heard it, Draco, Potter didn’t go whining to Professor Snape. He had a meeting with him, and Professor Snape found out about your little prank. So now he’s punishing you. You got caught. That’s more than reasonable.”
Draco stares at Theo with his mouth open. Then he says, “Defending the brat who brought down our Lord, Theo? I’d never have expected that of you!”
Theo only arches his eyebrows. “Would our Lord want followers who get caught because they can’t help acting out their petty grudges?”
“It isn’t a petty grudge! Potter’s not a Slytherin!”
“The Sorting Hat says he is. Professor Snape says he is. That’s enough for me.”
“Potter doesn’t think he is, either!” Draco says that like it makes some sort of unwinnable argument for his side.
Theo tilts his head to the side, and Blaise seizes the subtle invitation. “Potter doesn’t realize that some Slytherins will support him and welcome him to our House, because you keep pranking him and punishing him for something he’s already said he doesn’t want to do,” Blaise says, and manages to make himself sound calm and bored, exactly the way his mother always tells him to pursue politics. “He could be important and valuable to us, but all you think about is the Seeker position.”
“He’s said—”
“I don’t want it.”
This would be the moment Potter comes through the door into the common room, of course. He stands straight and glares impartially at all of them, even the few upper years in the room who have now abandoned their pretense of studying. He shakes his head.
“I don’t want to help Slytherin win games or points,” he says plainly, and looks at Draco with a wounding contempt that Blaise can’t help but admire. “That’s the way it is. I’m not a real Slytherin. We agree, Malfoy. So you can keep the Seeker position.” And he turns and walks away up the stairs to their bedroom. From experience, Blaise knows that he’ll get a book or his broom and go spend time with the Gryffindors.
Blaise waits until he hears the door shut before he turns to Draco and says, “So there. You’ve secured your precious Seeker position, and you’ve succeeded in making Potter not see how he can be an asset to us. Well done, Draco.”
Draco bristles. “You’ve heard him, he doesn’t think that it’s a privilege to be part of the greatest House at Hogwarts—”
“What has the face of that House been to him so far?” Blaise asks rhetorically, because for some reason Theo is letting him go ahead with this. “A bullying git who hurts him and messes up his potions and laughs at him because he refused said bullying git’s hand on the Hogwarts Express.”
Draco always flushes like a Weasley. “I didn’t—”
“You told us, last year.” Theo seems to be losing interest in the conversation, leaning back on the couch and yawning, but Blaise knows him better than that, and can see the gleam in his eyes as he watches Potter come down from the bedroom.
Draco pauses the conversation until Potter has left, so Blaise does, too. Then Draco wheedles, “What do you think Potter can give you that I can’t? Come on, tell me.”
Freedom from your lectures, if only because he’s not impressed with them. A better Seeker, if he ever agrees to play. A better reputation in the school. Maybe even more political choice in the future.
But that’s not something Blaise wants to express right now. He’d rather negotiate from a stronger position, and that means making Draco offer something, instead of specifying his interests. He lets his voice soften. “What did you have in mind?”
As the lecture goes on, Theo catches his eye, and nods a little. Blaise nods back. He knows what it means. For now, they’re allies in the matter of trying to curb Draco and get Potter more interested in his House, for the sake of what Potter might be able to give them.
Not much time left before the summer holidays, unfortunately. But I am going to at least try to show Potter not all Slytherins are the same.
That might mean an ambush in the library, tomorrow.
*
phoenix-rob: Thanks! At the moment, not many of the Gryffindors have a problem with Harry because he is essentially acting as much like a Gryffindor as he can.
You'll see Ginny next chapter.
Kain: Harry does think it's absolutely reprehensible that Snape only cares about students being bullied when they're in his House.
Harry doesn't despise Blaise, but he also ignores all the Slytherins so much he won't see what Blaise is offering without more effective action.
At the moment, Harry just thinks Draco is a bullying git, the way Blaise stated. Draco isn't important to him except the way Dudley is when he's at the Dursleys', as someone to be avoided.
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