Chapter Text
The cabbie was struggling to get Harry Potter’s school trunk out of his car. “What the hell you got in here, boy?” He gasped, letting go of the handle and dabbing at his brow with his obnoxious bumblebee themed tie. It was disgusting, both the sweating and choice of patterns. The yellow insects on purple background reminded Harry of his headmaster’s odd wardrobe and he fought back a frown, not willing to think about Dumbledore just yet.
Harry plasters on a sweet smile, the one that got him an extra lemon bar from the old lady volunteers at the wayhouse. “I’m so sorry, sir. It’s my schoolbooks, you see.”
“Back to school then for you?” The cabbie took a deep breath, grabbed the trunk handle, and grunted as he gave it one final heave. The trunk, with its old wood and chipped gold, hit the concrete of the King’s Cross station entrance with a thud, and if it weren’t for the many safe-keeping charms, Harry might have snapped.
“Yes, sir,” Harry said, gritting his teeth. Why was it so hard for people to respect other people’s things? It was barnyard behavior. “Thank you so much for the ride, have a nice day.” Having paid the man upon arrival, Harry didn’t feel bad about seizing his trunk and quickly wheeling it into the station. According to his pocket watch, a gift from his closest and only friend, Severus, it was 10:30, and the Hogwarts Express always left at exactly eleven o’clock. Unfortunately, Harry had a deep seated anxiety about being late, and was perpetually early, a trait instilled in him from the ladies at the wayhouse. It certainly wasn’t his worst habit.
Harry headed straight through into platform nine and three quarters, not looking too much at the scenery surrounding him. He would rather find a compartment and settle in with his most recent book and wait for the train to leave, than gape open-mouthed at the scarlet steam train like some kind of muggleborn first year.
Disregarding, of course, that he had done exactly that, back when he had thought he was a muggleborn and had indeed been a first year.
He found a compartment near the front of the train and settled into a corner, pulling his book on wizarding dragon legends out of his trunk before hefting it up to the luggage rail. The train itself automatically put lightening charms on the trunks, which Harry was grateful for as he had no parents to do it for him. Even with the charm, his first year self had not been able to lift it, and it was honestly one of the few times he had deeply wanted a family member, just to use their additional lifting power.
Why was his mind so intent on going back to the past? Harry shook his head and opened his book. There were better things to do than get nostalgic. He was still only a sixth year, reminiscing could wait until seventh, if he allowed it at all.
It could only have been fifteen minutes before his compartment door opened and the thin, birdlike body of his friend, Severus, came sliding in, levitating his truck behind him.
“Severus,” Harry greeted, laying his book down on his lap. “How was your summer?”
Severus’ nostrils flared. “You’ve avoided my letters for long enough, Harry. What were your O.W.L. results?”
It was true. In every letter Severus had sent him, he had asked Harry about his testing results, and in every reply Harry sent back he had skillfully ignored him. Even now, Harry tried to ignore him.
“My holiday was fine, thank you for asking,” he said, picking his book back up again. “I found some interesting antique stores-”
A long-fingered hand with mysterious potion stains dotting the palm and finger tips placed itself in the middle of Harry’s page.
“Potter,” he growled. It was amusing to Harry to equate this almost adult to the scrawny boy that Harry had sat with on their very first train ride. Now, he could almost be intimidating, if Harry wasn’t an idiot.
But Harry was not an idiot, and that was the entire purpose behind Severus’ desperation. Harry didn’t consider himself truly intelligent, there were plenty of students that understood more difficult concepts than he did, but what Harry was good at was connecting lines between ideas that just made logical sense. Harry was good at expanding based on what he already knew, and he was fantastic at experimenting, but he didn’t think that made him smart.
He didn’t want to be considered smart. But, for some reason, Severus had gotten it into his head that Harry was smart, intelligent, worth the time and effort of his friendship when they had been plucky little first years, both bitter over unfair life experiences. But because Harry didn’t want to be considered smart, didn’t want the attention that came along with it, he held back in classes and with his homework, and he purposely kept himself in the middle of their class rankings. High enough to keep professors off his back, but not so high as to attract the notice of the top dogs like Granger, Riddle, and Crouch.
But Severus did not place the same value on living a quiet life. No, he thought Harry was ‘wasting his potential.’ O.W.L.s, though… Standardized testing did not affect class rankings. They were completely private, only available to select ministry officials and whoever the student themself wanted to see them, whether that was family, friends, or potential employers.
So, Harry hadn’t had anything to lose in showcasing his knowledge. He’d actually tried during the exams, and it had felt freeing, but also like weakness. Like he was giving in to an inner desire for acknowledgement, which Harry did not need.
Severus had been seated near him in almost all of his tests, just like they sat near each other during classes. He had been able to tell, in between his own bouts of almost-genius level quill scritching, that Harry had been taking the O.W.L.s seriously, and though Harry had been unwilling to discuss the questions in-depth afterwards, Severus knew that he would share his grades.
And then Harry hadn’t.
Severus looked down at Harry, and Harry widened his green eyes in what he hoped looked like an innocent expression, but some of his mirth must have been showing. His friend pulled his lips back into a snarl, and Harry thought for a brief moment that Severus’ animagus form could have been a rather vicious wolf.
He felt bad about thinking it almost immediately and sighed. Severus’ shoulders immediately lost their tense posture and he moved back, sitting across from Harry.
“Well,” Harry said, drawing out the ‘l’ in the plebian way that he knew drove Severus insane. Getting the desired twitch of Severus’ dark left eye, he continued. “I got an O in defense, charms, potions, transfiguration, herbology, arithmancy, and ancient runes. I got an E in history of magic and divination, though I’m dropping both of those so I don’t care too much.”
Severus’ nostrils flared again, and their blackness reminded Harry of two olives. “So, near perfect scores then?”
“Of course not, Severus,” he said, picking his book back up again. “There’s no such thing as perfect.”
“My summer was fine,” Severus said, ignoring the fact that Harry was trying to read. Harry felt a brief note of irony, considering Harry was normally the one pushing for conversation. “Quite a number of interesting events occured that I left out of my letters.” Harry’s eyes slid up off the page to look at his friend. Severus’ mouth was pursued tight, and he wasn’t actually looking at Harry. Interesting things?
“Oh, keeping secrets are we?” Harry said, keeping his voice light. He shut his book and put it onto the empty seat next to him. Outside of their compartment, Harry could hear the excited noises of students ready to return to school, and he cast a privacy charm to ensure that they would be left alone.
Severus gave a short nod. “I was invited, near the beginning of July, to spend the weekend at Rodolphus and Rabastan’s summer cottage with the rest of my year mates.”
Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing so that Severus could continue his story.
“It was an odd weekend,” Severus confessed. “They all treated me almost respectfully. Especially Riddle.”
“I thought Riddle didn’t like you?” Harry asked gently when Severus stopped talking.
“He didn’t, before I… Before Evans and I went our separate ways.” For a moment, Harry could see the cracks in his friends’ usually flawless Slytherin mask, but he managed to pull it together. Harry knew that the memories of Severus’ post-O.W.L. confrontation with his childhood friend still weighed heavily on him.
“And now?”
“He talked to me about potions a few times before we left for our summer holiday, but that was all,” Severus said. Harry hummed, and then the train started to move, the magical engine humming underneath their feet.
“So, Riddle is your friend now?” Harry asked curiously. Part of his quiet life strategy was avoiding people who’s presences were certainly not quiet, so Harry could honestly say that he had only spoken to Riddle maybe twice in his life.
Severus snorted, and it made Harry smile. His friend was so uptight most of the time, and Harry always felt proud when he made Severus lighten up a little. “Hardly friends. Riddle doesn’t do friends, and nor do I, for the most part.” Here, Harry felt like his heart was growing three sizes. Wasn’t it nice, to be the exception sometimes? “He was civil and friendly, of course, but so were my other yearmates.”
“What did they do?”
“Played wizarding chess,” Severus said. “But after playing you for so long, I defeated them all soundly.” Harry smiled. He had been awful at chess when he was young, but there were very few things to do for entertainment at the wayhouse, and chess was one of those things. “They talked about pureblood politics, which was interesting to learn about, and they talked about the ministry and their O.W.L. results.”
“So, normal teenage Slytherin activities?” Harry smiled. He was not a Slytherin, but he had spent enough time around Severus to understand how serious the house could be at times, because of their political upbringing.
“They also talked about dark magic,” Severus said, and Harry felt his smile slip. He looked out the window, watching the countryside fly by. His brow furrowed.
“That’s not too odd,” Harry said slowly. “A lot of their families are dark, and Riddle has always given off a certain aura to me.” Harry didn’t hate dark magic, and he could certainly see the appeal of it, but some of the members of Severus’ house were violent, ignorant buffoons. He wasn’t sure how good of an idea it was to have people like Rodolphus Lestrange knowing more efficient ways to inflict pain.
“They have a study group,” Severus said, and here he was watching Harry closely, dark eyes unreadable. “I have been...invited to join.” If Severus wasn’t a Slytherin, or a private man with a dark past, he would probably be tapping his foot or twiddling his fingers. As it was, Harry could only tell how stressed he was because of the rigid hold Severus had on his posture. He was trying too hard not to move, to the point that he was resisting even the movement of the chest that comes from breathing.
“Do you not want to join their study group?” Harry asked curiously. He knew Severus was deeply interested in the dark arts, the whole thing seemed right up his alley. And to learn from someone like Riddle, who wielded magic like it was the most natural thing in the world. It would be difficult for Severus to find a better tutor in England, unless he started looking at the suspicious flyers in the various pubs of Knockturn.
“I am interested…” Severus said, barely moving his lips.
Was Severus… asking for his permission?
“Severus, if you want to join, you should,” Harry said. He gave his friend an encouraging smile and turned to look out the window. He thought they were passing a flock of sheep, for a moment, but the fluffy cloudlike blurs were gone too fast to tell. “It would be a good opportunity for you to expand your grasp on the subject.”
“You would not object?” Severus asked lowly, and Harry felt like sighing, though he wouldn’t. Really, for such a smart man, Severus relied so much on those he was close to. Too much. This conversation made Harry think of Severus’ association with Lily, who had rejected the darker sides of Severus, who had tried to shut away that part of him.
“As long as you remain my partner in class, no,” Harry answered. “Oh, and no getting expelled, either.” He didn't know what he’d do for his last two years of Hogwarts without Severus’ dry, witty comments to keep him going.
Severus doesn’t smile. Harry doesn’t expect him to. But the edges of his perma scowl soften slightly, and he nods his agreement.
Harry goes back to looking out the window as Severus goes digging through his trunk, looking for something or another. So, his best friend was going to be getting closer to his Slytherin housemates. That could potentially cause trouble. Though Harry did feel confident that Severus wouldn’t talk about him during those meetings. Why would he? And it wasn’t like any of the Slytherins would ask. They likely didn’t know who Harry was; Harry was on the same level as one of the paintings in the castle. Recognizable, yes, because of years of shared classes, but there was no real familiarity. If they were to think of him, try to imagine his face, they likely would only get so far as his dark hair before the face would become a blur.
Harry leaned his forehead on the cool glass. No, this really wouldn’t affect Harry too much. He might not see Severus as often, but that was okay. Severus was a snake for a reason, he had ambitions. And while Harry didn’t, not really, he couldn’t blame his friend for seeking glory and renown where he could find it.
He looked towards his friend, only to see him setting up his secondhand chessboard on the middle seat on his side of the compartment.
“Well?” Severus asked, raising an eyebrow. “Black or white?”
Harry sighed and moved to the other side of the compartment, ready to trounce Severus once again. Unlike Severus, Harry had not been distracted by dark wizards over his break, and therefore would certainly not lose.