Better Be Slytherin!

*Chapter 2*: Chapter 2

Better Be Slytherin! -- Chapter 2

By jharad17

Disclaimer: Not mine

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Severus Snape had dreaded this day for eleven years. He had always known that Harry Potter would one day come to Hogwarts -- the boy's name had been down since the day he was born, after all -- and he had always known he would have to deal with the daily reminder of James, in his classes, in the Great Hall at meals, and even in the hallways. He had nursed the dread, worked it in his mind like clay, molded it into the perfect shape of his hate and desire for vengeance. He had expected the child to be a copy of his father. Even after James and Lily died, he knew that blood would out. The boy wouldn't be able to help it, he was sure. He would be arrogant and vain, attention seeking and nasty as you please, with a particular fondness for rules breaking.

But even so, he had not expected the son of James and Lily to be a Slytherin.

When silence descended on the Great Hall after the announcement, Severus had, for a moment, been sure he'd heard wrong. It must be a mistake. There was no way the precious Boy Who Lived would be anything but a Gryffindor like his widely adored and completely obnoxious father. But the boy stood there, silent as well, looking around him as if all his dreams had been crushed -- as well they might! No applause; the horror! -- before his expression went carefully blank the barest moment later, and his chin went up just a fraction.

Severus could have applauded the little blighter for that -- Never let them beat you down, boy! -- but instead, when the boy finally caught his eye, he merely indicated the Slytherin table and Harry went to sit with the rest of his House. After all, it was just like Potter's son to think everyone should applaud him simply for putting on a hat. Severus' lip curled in disgust. Just like the Potter brat to look down on his new House, too.

He watched the boy sit next to Nott, and watched Zabini join them a moment later. Potter kept his head down, though Severus noted the quick glances he darted about, probably trying to figure a way to get more attention for himself. Arrogant brat.

Albus made some nonsensical speech, the same as every year, though Severus could swear he heard a tiny note of melancholy in the Headmaster's voice. Ah, well, of course the Old Coot thought the Potter brat would end up in his own old House. Of course he would be disappointed. Weren't they all?

At last the feast proper began, and as he did every year while he ate, Severus watched the goings on at the students' tables, and Slytherin's in particular. It often gave him insight into what peer groups would be of a given year, and he could always use that information to his advantage. At the Slytherin table, he was interested to see that, although the Bloody Baron was hovering rather close to Malfoy, putting the boy off his feed, the discomfiting ghost had his gaze fixed firmly on the Potter brat. And he looked thoughtful.

Severus sighed. That didn't bode well.

He watched the Brat Who Lived stare at the massive platters of food, and then turn his blank-eyed stare on the other students. He noticed the Brat didn't take any food until he was sure everyone else had piled their plates high. And then, he snatched at a chicken leg and turned his body slightly away as if he were feral, and protecting his food from other predators. Naturally, Slytherin's little snakes were predators, but not so uncouth as to steal food from each other, for Merlin's sake! They had manners, not like the Brat Who Lived to Be Annoying!

Dinner proceeded apace, and Severus soon turned out the mumblings of the turban-headed DADA teacher beside him, as well as Minerva's occasional huffs of annoyance as she discussed the Sorting – clearly she'd thought the Brat would be in her House, as Albus had. For a brief moment, he considered telling her she was welcome to him! But he had never removed a student from his House before, and would not set such a standard now. Not with Potter, of all people.

When dinner was through, he watched the Slytherin prefects march his House out of the Great Hall. They strode before their peers, from First Years to Seventh, silently and in perfect formation. He nodded politely as he always did when the other Heads of House acknowledged, as their students tore from the Hall with the scraping of benches and a stampede of feet and shouting, that their Houses would never look so organized or precise, never mind on the first night. It was one of many things he enjoyed lording over them.

After waiting another ten minutes, long enough for the prefects to have brought the newest Snakes to order in the common room, Severus rose from the head table and made his way to the Dungeons. The first night was always the longest for new Slytherins, as Severus preferred to lay down the rules immediately, unlike some Houses – Gryffindor, anyone? – who rarely had any rules given to them at all, or others who had them portioned in dribs and drabs over the course of seven years. Disgraceful. If a child did not know the rules, he could not be expected to realize when he was stepping out of line, and could not be brought back into accordance with these rules through the judicious use of punishment.

Severus stood in front of the Common Room entrance and took a deep breath, set his most ferocious scowl upon his face, and shoved the portrait open. Angling his arms, just so, he achieved his famed bat-like movement, robes billowing gracefully behind him. It had taken more time than he cared to admit to perfect that move.

In the common room, again arrayed by year, his little Snakes waited silently. He nodded once to the prefects, Flint and Torrence, to let them know they'd done well, and swept to the front of the group. His twelve First Years – as well as many of the Seconds – who were on the floor at the feet of their betters, all stared at him with awe . . . except for two of them. Malfoy the Younger had a smug little smirk that Severus would enjoy removing by bits, and the Potter Brat was staring at the floor.

Cheeky thing.

Severus cleared his throat, and was pleased to see the Brat twitch as if he'd been hit by a stinging hex and look up at him. But he was thoroughly annoyed that the Brat had missed his entrance. Well. He would have to do something about that.

"You are all Slytherins," he said with no preamble and raked them all with his gaze. "Your House is a place of pride and power. Of cunning and survival. Of unity and strength. As members of this House, I expect each of you will come under suspicion and fear, from other students, your professors, and even the Headmaster himself. Oh, yes, they will fear you, and what you might become. For Salazar Slytherin was known for his power, and he was known, too, for his exacting standards in those who came to his House. You all have the potential for great power, and the rest of the world will envy you that.

"So let me tell you this now: while you may hone certain of your talents in my demesne, outside these walls, you will act as one body, with only one purpose. House unity. You must be united. Those who fear you will think nothing of setting you one against the other, and in this way, pick you off at their leisure. Outside the confines of the Hogwarts dungeons, no one will take mercy on you."

Severus paced back and forth as he spoke, for he was never one for standing still. As a student, it had caused him some trouble. As a professor, he was considered to "be everywhere at once." It was gratifying how positions of authority changed one's perspective.

"Thus, rule number one. Mr. Flint, if you would?"

Marcus Flint stood straighter, if possible, from his ramrod posture. "Yes, sir. Rule One: Slytherins are the House."

"Thank you," Severus said. "No matter where you are or what you do at Hogwarts, you will have pride and unity in your House. This means, if a member of your House is in danger or in need of assistance, you will assist them. This is not merely for sport, or duels – which, of course, are prohibited to all students, isn't that correct Mr. Higgs? – but for school work and projects and getting to class on time."

Higgs had the grace to look abashed, since his duel at the end of last year had been an utter disaster, requiring no less than three professors to deal with afterwards. Severus turned from him and glared at his newest Snakes. "Having pride in Slytherin also means you will maintain proper dress at all times, down to pants," he waited while thin snickers died out and continued, "And every moment you are on the grounds, you will conduct yourselves as a young Wizarding lady or gentleman should. Your prefects will give you lists of the specifics to memorize and follow, and you should understand I will brook no failure to comply with these regulations, at all, effective immediately."

Their wide eyes were upon him, and he allowed a moment for them to take in what he had just said before moving on. Even the Potter Brat seemed attentive, even a little fearful, which was a bit of a shock. "There are strict homework and bedtime schedules which you will follow rigorously, and you will be up, dressed, and at breakfast with your house promptly at oh-seven thirty every morning. Including weekends, Miss Hutchins, am I clear?"

The slothful Second Year girl was a menace, but she nodded quickly.

"The night time schedule is posted on the board here," Severus told them, and pointed to the notice board just inside the portrait. "As is your morning bathroom schedule. Deviation from these assigned times will not be tolerated," he growled, and sent a Look at the four Sixth Year girls, who were notorious, every year since they were Firsties, for taking far too much time with their ablutions, often to the detriment of their Housemates.

Surprisingly, the Brat's head shot up at this, and there was a wild, panicked look in his eyes, quickly hidden. What in the world . . . ?

Severus shrugged off his concerns, and continued with his lecture for the next hour and a half, laying out his other rules and the consequences for trespassing on them, and suggesting his Snakes familiarize themselves with any mandates from other Houses, too, so as to be better prepared in the larger arena of Hogwarts.

At last came the part he dreaded most. "Are there any questions?"

Malfoy's hand went up. No surprise there.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy?"

"When're Quidditch tryouts, sir?"

Severus sneered. "You fancy yourself ready for that, do you?" Without waiting for, or expecting, an answer he continued, "Tryouts for the team will be posted on the board by this year's Captain, Marcus Flint. On the subject of notices, Fifth Years and above may post without permission. All others are required to seek a Prefect's approval first. Anything else?"

He sneered again when Potter's hand went up. "Mister Potter? You have a question?"

"Yes, sir." The boy did not react to his condescending tone at all, almost as if he expected it. "Are we allowed to use owls for parcel post? Um, ordering from Diagon Alley, say?"

Severus lifted a lip in disgust. "Run out of your favorite treats already? Or did the famous Harry Potter forget to pack quills?"

A couple of the older students sniggered, and the boy glanced around and bit his lip. Then he let it go, and that chin came up again, like he was steeling himself for what was to come. Severus was reminded sharply of another time, another boy, and his own experience with that need to be seen as brave. "Yes, sir. Something like that."

Severus shook his head at the sheer enormity of the Brat's idiocy. Surely he had gotten a list. "Yes, you may use school owls or your own for such purchases. Are there any other questions?"

When there were no more hands, Severus turned the remainder of the meeting over to his Prefects, who would hand out the specific rules lists, set up study schedules for the First through Third Years, and would show the youngest Snakes to their dorms.

When the last of his Snakes had gone from the common room, he took his leave. Not bad, he decided as he entered his own quarters and poured himself two fingers of firewhiskey to enjoy along with his latest missive from the Potion Masters Alliance of Europe.

It would have gone perfectly, if only he had not been saddled with the Brat Who Continued to Surprise Him.

TBC . . .

Next time: First day of Class

A/N Wow! So much enthusiasm! Here's another chappie for ya, right quick.