Chapter Text
Chapter 16 Punishment, Serpents, Nightmares
After Anders spoke up to clarify the rumors during the Flying Lesson, the way everyone treated Harry underwent a subtle shift: when Harry appeared in the Great Hall, people no longer eyed him with the same strange looks as before, and Pansy, after her setback, had quietly taken a seat at the far end of the Slytherin table.
Having swallowed a small piece of roasted potato, Harry put down his knife and fork. Although the incident during the Flying Lesson had been resolved, the next challenge was figuring out how to face the Head of Slytherin House. Harry picked up his goblet and took a small sip of pumpkin juice, but before he could swallow it, a familiar, low voice came from near the entrance to the Great Hall:
"Potter, Malfoy, come here."
The speaker's voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to silence everyone. The students at the Slytherin table all fell quiet the moment the voice sounded. Their Head of House rarely appeared here normally, and upon hearing those two names, they all turned to look at Draco and Harry.
"I promise we'll be fine," Draco whispered in Harry's ear. He glanced at Snape standing not far away, quickly pulled Harry up, and ignoring the stares from everyone in the Great Hall, walked towards the grim-faced Snape.
Seeing them rise, Snape turned and walked out of the Great Hall entrance, gesturing for them to follow. Just as they stepped through the doors, Anders approached them from the other end of the corridor. His lips were curved upwards, but upon seeing them, his smile vanished completely.
Anders ignored Snape, walking past him expressionlessly, but as his gaze met Draco's, his body clearly and deliberately bumped into Draco's shoulder—
"What else do you want?" Draco frowned, patting the spot Anders had bumped as if he'd touched something filthy. But Harry didn't seem to want a confrontation with Anders in this situation. He tugged at Draco's sleeve, subtly tilting his chin to indicate that "Professor Snape is still ahead."
Draco grimaced, shooting Anders a dissatisfied look, but he couldn't swallow his anger. He issued a challenge to Anders: "Tonight. A wizard's duel. Do you dare?"
"You think I'm scared of you?" Anders snorted lightly.
"Then it's set for midnight, alright? We'll meet you in the Trophy Room. Harry Potter will be my second. You can bring your own second as well."
"Huh?"
Harry let out a sound of confusion. From start to finish, he hadn't been part of Draco and Anders' rivalry. Although he didn't want to be dragged into it, to prevent Draco from losing face in front of Anders, he didn't refute Draco's words.
"Don't go back on your word then," Anders glared at Draco, his eyes briefly sweeping over Harry's face before he pushed the door open and entered the Great Hall.
During their argument, Snape had already walked ahead on his own, leaving only a dark, retreating back for Draco and Harry, forcing the two boys to jog a few steps to catch up with his pace.
**********
Snape led the two to his office. For some reason, Draco felt the office was damper and colder than usual. He swallowed nervously, glancing at Harry beside him, but Harry's expression remained as calm and collected as ever, as if he wasn't the one being punished in Snape's office.
"Potter, Malfoy, do you have any idea what you've done?"
Snape's icy words pierced the silent air, and the surrounding temperature seemed to drop because of them. Draco instinctively hunched his shoulders but stubbornly answered Snape:
"We didn't do anything!" The moment the words left his mouth, Draco regretted them. He watched his Head of House's face darken step by step. His gaze was sharp and terrifying, as if he might banish them from his sight the very next second.
Draco grew slightly afraid. He quickly lowered his head, feigning a look of remorse. The office fell into a deathly silence, but it was then that Harry's voice rang out:
"I'm sorry, Professor." Harry's green eyes blinked twice, his thin lips pressing together tightly after uttering those words, looking utterly sincere.
If it were any other time, such a genuine apology from Harry would usually earn him Snape's leniency. But this matter was serious, and Snape could no longer afford to make any concessions. He gave a cold snort and began to berate the two boys before him mercilessly:
"Because of your foolish antics, you have made me lose face in front of others." Snape paused, then continued, his voice stern: "—And do you have any idea that if you hadn't been incredibly lucky, you could have died out there?"
Snape's tone softened slightly. Although he was still furious, Harry and Draco were, after all, two of the students he valued most in his House. Beyond his own pride, he was far more concerned about their safety.
Draco pouted, muttering under his breath, "But that damn Anders Potter with his sickeningly fake attitude makes me want to vomit..."
"What did you say?"
Draco had just lifted his head, but Snape's frigid glare forced him to lower it again immediately.
"We didn't mean to, I'm sorry, Professor."
Harry apologized to Snape once more. Draco glanced sideways at Harry; those emerald-green eyes made it impossible for Draco to discern what he was truly thinking. Draco still didn't believe they had done anything wrong. After a few seconds of brief contemplation, he mustered his courage and loudly voiced his grievances to Snape:
"...Potter was being slandered all over Hogwarts, but that 'idiotic lion' from Gryffindor never once stood up to clear Potter's name. I just wanted to teach him a lesson... This has nothing to do with Potter. Potter, you don't need to apologize."
Draco shifted his gaze to Harry. He noticed Harry's lips part slightly, and his green eyes held a hint of astonishment. He clearly hadn't expected Draco to reveal these things to Snape.
"It was just... a disagreement among classmates," Harry explained, but Snape had already sensed something amiss. His brows furrowed deeply as his gaze shifted from Harry to Draco.
"Slander?" Snape pressed. Being largely disconnected from student life, he was naturally unaware of the trivial rumors circulating through Hogwarts. In his experience, the only things that spread widely among students were utterly inane gossip.
Draco hesitated. Harry's half-lidded, cat-like green eyes seemed to be warning him not to continue, but the pressure from Snape far outweighed Harry's warning. He steeled himself and stammered on stiffly:
"...They, they say Potter is... is a bastard, but Professor, you should know Potter couldn't possibly be..." Draco's words trailed off. He didn't dare look at Harry's expression now.
"Tch... Those—" It seemed Snape thought better of using a vulgar term in front of his students and forcefully swallowed the word he'd initially intended to use.
Harry kept his eyes lowered, fixed on the tips of his shoes. He hadn't been particularly bothered by those rumors before, but hearing Draco lay them out now stirred a nameless, bitter ache within him.
The gazes of Snape and Draco made Harry feel utterly exposed. He recalled once again the narrow, small bed stored in the cupboard under the stairs—his only refuge. Perhaps only by curling up there could he feel a fleeting sense of safety. But now, there was no such refuge left for him to hide in.
Perhaps he should apologize to Snape again?
His lips were beginning to turn pale. After a few attempts to speak, Harry ultimately couldn't utter a word. Suddenly, he felt a weight on his shoulder. He instinctively hunched his neck. In the past, the next moment would bring dizzying, suffocating pain. When Harry hesitantly looked up, he realized it wasn't Uncle Vernon's or Dudley's hand, but Snape's:
"You have done nothing wrong. There is no need to apologize to me further." Snape half-knelt, bringing his eyes level with Harry's. Faced with Snape's gaze, Harry looked away for the first time. Snape didn't force him to meet his eyes but continued speaking to Harry: "If anything like this happens again, I will handle it for you." After saying this, he glanced at Draco, who immediately straightened up in fright. He had never seen this side of their usually acerbic Slytherin Head of House. Seeing that Snape didn't seem angry with them anymore, Draco ventured to ask:
"So, Professor, does that mean you won't be punishing us?"
Snape released Harry, then methodically brushed a bit of dust from his black robes as he stood up, slowly delivering his verdict: "That is a separate matter—one week of cleaning the Potions classroom. Starting today."
"What?" Draco shrieked, thoroughly displeased with this outcome. "But you said it wasn't Potter's fault!"
"One more word of complaint, and I'll add another week."
Draco resignedly clamped his mouth shut. Perhaps if he hadn't brought it up, Snape wouldn't have remembered to punish them at all.
"We understand, Professor," Harry replied to Snape once his emotions had stabilized somewhat. Confirming there was nothing else, Harry and Draco left Snape's office.
**********
"...Potter, the Professor likes you so much. If you had just said you didn't want to be punished earlier, he definitely would have taken it back. Now look, we have to clean the Potions classroom for a whole week!" Draco complained, trying to keep up with Harry's brisk pace. "And why are you walking so fast?"
Harry didn't answer Draco. He was still immersed in the earlier conversation. In Harry's previous understanding, any mistake, however minor, would result in some form of physical punishment. But Snape hadn't done that. Instead, he had told him—he had done nothing wrong.
Harry didn't understand why Snape had said those words to him. He was already accustomed to cold stares and sneers and wouldn't be swayed by such rumors—so why had he felt a wave of... sadness upon hearing Snape's words?
Harry didn't know how to describe the feeling he had then. Perhaps going back to the dormitory to sleep would make him feel better.
"Alright, alright, it's only a week. Besides, I'll be cleaning with you, so don't be so upset," Draco said, thinking Harry's silence meant his words had further dampened Harry's mood. He hastily added this.
Harry merely responded with a soft "Mm" to Draco.
***********
After changing into his pajamas, Harry lay down on his bed in the dormitory. He felt like he had forgotten something, but perhaps it wasn't important, so he didn't try to recall it.
Clover was on the bedside table, swallowing piece by piece the bits of meat Harry had secretly brought back for it. It opened its mouth wide, unceremoniously "capturing" its "prey." The swallowed meat formed a noticeable lump in its body. Harry marveled at a snake's digestive system; it seemed they could digest almost anything, no matter the size.
"Clover, are your fangs venomous?" Harry couldn't resist touching Clover's two sharp fangs, and Clover obediently allowed the touch.
"Of course not. If they were, that man called Snape would have died by my fangs long ago," Clover declared proudly, raising its head and flicking its tongue. "But I wish I did have venom. Then I could protect you!" it vowed earnestly.
Harry smiled and patted its head. Although he never expected a snake as small as Clover to protect him, he didn't refute its words. Harry stroked the smooth scales along Clover's back, only removing his hand when he heard its satisfied hissing.
With Clover's company, those negative emotions seemed to dissipate. No matter what happened, Clover would always be by his side. Harry hugged Clover, pulled the covers over them, and soon fell into a deep sleep.
***********
He had completely forgotten about Draco and Anders' agreed-upon midnight duel. But in his dream, he encountered the red-eyed serpent again. Its eyes still gleamed with that eerie, bloody red, and this time, Harry seemed to hear more clearly what it was saying to him:
"...They merely pity you... Harry... Would you truly accept their pity..."
"Who are you?" Harry took several cautious steps back, only to find a cold, hard stone wall behind him. The serpent flicked its tongue, its body twisting as it slowly drew closer:
"...They are only using you, my dear Harry..."
It didn't answer Harry's question. Its massive form coiled further around Harry's waist. Its damp tongue touched Harry's earlobe. Harry tried to escape, but with no way out, he was forced to endure the tightening coils.
"...Harry... Will you not join..."
Harry didn't catch the final words. A lethal sense of constriction overwhelmed him, plunging him into total unconsciousness.