Story [Harry Potter] Reflections -- Snape and Dumbledore - beginning of HP's 4th year - One Post

REFELCTIONS​

by ardavenport

Story: Snape goes to Dumbledore about one complaint and they have and unexpected confrontation about another.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to JKR; I'm just playing in her sandbox.



"Cockroach Clusters!"

"He's already got somebody in." The stone gargoyle stepped aside.

Severus Snape did not care. He strode through the gargoyle's alcove and up the moving spiral staircase two at a time, his anger propelling him into the Headmaster's office.

"This is too much! This cannot continue - - !"

Elbows resting on the top of his huge, claw-footed desk, long silver-gray hair hanging down around his lined face, Albus Dumbledore lifted his gaze over the top of his half-moon glasses and crooked nose; the tiny crease of annoyance between his raised brows made Snape pause. On the walls of the study, the many snoozing portraits of previous Headmasters of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry took no notice of his entrance.

"Really, Severus? Whatever this is, it could not wait?"

"It's Potter again . . . !" Somebody had gotten into his stores and Snape knew who it had to be.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and waved a hand to stop him.

"I have no doubt that you think it is something critical, but I do hope that you have noticed, Professor Snape, that there are actually other students at the school besides Harry Potter." A long finger extended toward a cowering first-year student standing before Dumbledore's desk. She averted her gaze as soon as she saw him looking at her.

She was small and skinny in a new black robe that was too long for her, the hem resting on the tops of her shoes. She had muddy-reddish-brown braids and a face stained with freckles: Becky Finney; a Hufflepuff who was among the less annoying children that he was obliged to try to teach the art of Potions to. At least she had not melted, spilled or otherwise destroyed her caldron in the first few weeks of class . . . . yet. For all of them, it was just a matter of time. And Finney's partner in class, a know-it-all named Zowie Lezaar, needed to learn her real place in the world, or at the very least, in his Potions class.

Snape sneered down at her before looking back to the Headmaster. "This can't wait - - "

Dumbledore's hand went up, cutting him off again. "I believe it can. In fact . . ." Wearing a velvety, embroidered blue robe, he sat back in the throne-like chair behind his desk. "Since you are peripherally involved, I think that your presence might be of use after all." There was no cheer in his smile amidst his untrimmed pale gray mustache and beard.

"I trust you are aware of the recent rash of bum blisters in the school?"

Snape was dumbfounded by both the pun and the change of topic to this triviality. The Hogwarts castle was infested with undisciplined children, their immaturity and baseness manifest in the endless pranks they inflicted on each other. The bum blisters was just the latest fad. Someone had been setting jinxes on random chairs in empty classrooms. The victims sat on the jinxes when they arrived in class and very soon had their bottoms covered with oozing, nasty-smelling blisters. Professor McGonagall had been furious when she had to send a third of a class of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws to Madame Pomfrey during her lesson.

"I don't see why this has anything to do with me. No one has been foolish enough to set any tricks like that in any of my classes."

"Which is precisely why 'some' people think that someone in Slytherin House might be responsible."

Snape's back straightened and he sucked in air through his nose, his lips pressed together in a tight line. "Then I think that 'some' people might be misapplying their inquiries. The obvious culprits are the Weasley twins. This latest prank is exactly the sort of mediocre humor that they amuse themselves with."

"Oh, I assure you that they have been questioned. But their activities have been accounted for and they usually show more imagination than to repeat the same prank as this one has been." His eyes went to the first-year before him. She kept her eyes cast firmly downward to the carpet. "Particularly today's outbreak."

"Which class was it this time?"

"It wasn't a class at all. It was the Hufflepuff common room. Every chair in it was jinxed. Professor Sprout is extremely vexed. She may have some words with you, after Madame Pomfrey attends to her . . . condition."

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. Even he was not totally immune to a bit of low-brow humor. "Does she think that I had something to do with it? That I am organizing my House to spread bottom-jinxes throughout the school?"

Dumbledore's mouth quirked as well. "No. But young Becky here is involved."

Snape looked down at the girl. She was much too young to be capable of casting a bum-blister jinx even once, let alone onto dozens of chairs.

"With her brother, Finnerick Finney," Dumbledore finished.

"Finney?" The Headmaster had surprisingly named a sixth-year student in Snape's House. "I was given to understand that he was a cousin of hers. A distant cousin."

"Yes, so he would have everyone believe. Especially after it became known that young Becky's paternal grandmother is a squib. And that the Sorting Hat named his younger sibling a lowly Hufflepuff instead of placing her in Slytherin as was expected by their family.

"Young Finnerick has been using his little sister as a look-out for his nefarious deeds and to gain access to the Hufflepuff common room, with the misguided promise that if she proves herself worthy, she will be allowed to join him as a member of Slytherin House."

Snape scowled in distaste at such a notion. If the Sorting Hat, now sitting dormant on a shelf behind the Headmaster's chair, placed her in Hufflepuff then there was nothing more to be said about it. She would never be suitable material for Slytherin no matter what tasks she did for her brother. He looked down his hooked nose at her. She was obviously too stupid to realize that she had been deceived by her brother. Professor Sprout was welcome to have her.

"That's ridiculous. Girl." His tone forced Becky to look up at him. "If you have been Sorted into Hufflepuff House then that is where you will stay. You are not fit to be in any other House, most particularly not in mine."

Her blue eyes watered before she burst into tears, but Snape stood his ground. He had done nothing less than to tell her the absolute truth and he would not be moved by emotional outbursts. Unfortunately, she did not run away which was so common among weak, coddled children. She just stood there bawling and smearing the results of it on the sleeves of her black robe, a yellow-and-white frilled dress visible under the open front.

Snape waited for Dumbledore to cut off the torrent, but he didn't. The magical devices on their shelves and small tables along the walls whirred and puffed as the Headmaster left them both standing before him. His animal familiar, Fawkes the phoenix preened and ruffled his feathers and the room smelled faintly of peppermint and book dust. Finally the crying fit abated and Dumbledore, his expression grave and pitying, leaned forward, arms resting on the desk.

"Professor Snape is correct. Though he might have phrased it better." Dumbledore flicked a critical look toward him, but again, he did not back down. "The Sorting Hat has judged the best place for you to be is with Hufflepuff. And it is never wrong.

"Have you been unhappy there?"

Sniffling, she shook her head.

"Has Professor Sprout or any of the others in your house been unkind to you?"

Becky shook her head again. "But Zowie told on me! She said she was my friend," she whimpered.

Dumbledoore shook his head. "No, she did not, though she did know that you were helping your brother and is most worried for you over it. It was not anyone from Hufflepuff House who reported you letting your brother sneak into the common room."

Sloppily wiping her red nose on her sleeve, the Finney girl hiccupped and then burst into a new round of tears.

Snape rolled his eyes and turned around in place in complete frustration. 'Enough!' he almost shouted, but he closed his mouth, his complaint unvoiced under Dumbledore's icy blue-eyed glare. The crying subsided again and Dumbledore resumed a genial expression for the girl as he produced a purple silk handkerchief with a quick flick of his wand along with a waft of lavender and mimosa. He waved his other hand toward his phoenix's perch; Fawkes cawed a response and then vanished in a quick burst of flame.

"Are you going to send me home?" she asked in a very small voice, the purple handkerchief clutched in her fists, "because of what I did?"

"Do you wish to go home?" He leaned forward over the desk, his tone sympathetic.

She shook her head, her lower lip protruding with a threat that she might still burst out into more blubbering again.

"No? But you wish to be with your brother."

"I want him to like me again . . . like when Mummy and Daddy used to like each other."

Snape could not have cared less about the sad tale the Hufflepuff girl told about her parents fighting all the time after her mother found out that her husband had concealed the fact that his mother, her mother-in-law, was a squib. But Dumbledore's warning glare continued to keep him in his place through the whole dreary tale. The Headmaster was not a wizard to cross lightly for all his pretense of being a doddering, kindly old grandfather. And standing in the Headmaster's office, Snape had to accept that he was in his superior's domain.

Rescue came with the arrival of the Finney girl's partner in Potions Class, Zowie Lezaar accompanied by a Hufflepuff Perfect, Cedric Diggory. The tall handsome Perfect politely acknowledged Snape with a nod and stood aside by a small table with a jar of fluttering paper-snipes. The two girls tearfully forgave each other for their mutual stupidity. Snape privately vowed to give them double detentions if either of them inflicted one single tear on him during their next Potions Class. The three Hufflepuffs went to the door together to next meet with Professor Sprout who would doubtless forgive the child for her outright treachery with only token punishment that would teach her nothing.

Then Becky ran back and apologetically returned a soggy purple handkerchief to a corner of the desk.

"Interesting . . . don't you think?" Dumbledore sat back when the Hufflepuffs were finally gone and gazed up at Snape standing alone in his long black robe, now at last alone with the Headmaster in his circular study with napping portraits and antique magical curios on display all around them.

"Not in the least," he spat back.

"Really, Severus? Are you so lacking in self-reflection that you never see any of yourself in your students?"

"Are you implying that I am anything like that sniveling child?"

"Certainly not in temperament," Dumbledore acknowledged, "But possibly in background?"

Snape pinned the older wizard with his own glare. "And just what are you implying?" Dumbledore's position did not entitle him to his private life.

Dumbledore sighed and pushed his chair back to stand. "Nothing it would seem. For a moment I thought that we might be learners as well as teachers at this school." He came around the desk. Fawkes made a flaming reappearance above them, red wings and long tail spread wide, and flew down to his perch. Dumbledore extended a hand and the bird rubbed his neck on the slender fingers.

"But I have seen this happen many times before," he continued, turning back to Snape. "We receive children who are materially cared for but otherwise emotionally neglected by their families. In the worst cases they reject the love and companionship that they never received before as unimportant and even distasteful. In the best cases, they recognize what they never had and embrace it whole-heartedly. And in still others, they hold onto what love they have so tightly and narrow their focus so much that they cannot see it anywhere else, even when it could be all around them." Dumbledore raised his brows. "Does that not sound familiar to you?"

Snape had only one love in the world and it was not something for others to gossip about, even wizards as exalted as Dumbledore. "That is my affair and mine alone."

The Headmaster sighed and looked a little bit older. "As you wish. Do you want me to speak to the Finney boy about his jinxes and his sister?"

Snape had quite forgotten about the Finney children, but some punishment was in order. Bum jinxes were quite beneath a six-year's standards. If young Finnerick needed to prove himself superior to his fellow classmates he would have to do much better than that. What he did with his Hufflepuff sister would up to him; Snape wanted to hear no more about the Finney family. "I will discipline him myself."

Dumbledore nodded. "And now, you came here on some other business?"

Snape's delayed anger flared again and Dumbledore listened to his description of the thefts from his Potions stores.

"It's Potter! He's done it before!"

Dumbledore looked infuriatingly uninterested. "And yet you have not managed to catch him at it? He must be a better wizard than you give him credit for."

That was true. Snape had set his best traps, but the thief remained uncaught. But Harry Potter had no great talent with magic. "He must be getting help from his friends. He's like his father. He takes what he doesn't deserve from me and flaunts it!"

Dumbledore's brows rose. "You have an interesting choice of words. But I think you should look elsewhere for your culprit. Voldemort is coming. There can be no doubt, especially after what happened at the Triwizard Tournament. He may already have allies in Hogwarts now."

"What would any agents of the Dark Lord need from my stores? It has to be Potter! He's making polyjuice potion again!"

"Really?" Dumbledore folded his arms before him, his blue embroidered sleeves hanging down over his stomach. "And you cannot think of anything that an ally of Voldemort could use polyjuice potion for? Perhaps for a disguise maybe?"

Snape had already thought of that. "And they would have taken their potion before entering Hogwarts. They would not need to steal from my stores to get it. It has to be Potter!"

The doubt in Dumbledore's face was plain. "Very well, if you can somehow manage to catch him at it, I will, of course, hear your case. But I strongly advise you to look elsewhere. There are dangerous things stirring these days, Severus." He turned back to his desk and that was too much for Snape.

"NO!" He grabbed Dumbledore's arm. "No, I will NOT be put off again! Not after last year! Not after Potter helped Sirius Black escape! After attacking me! After I was foolish enough to try to help him! You MUST listen to me!"

Dumbledore's mouth opened in silent shock but the surprise soon left his face and he imperiously lifted his head as if to distance himself from an accuser. Snape let go his grip.

"I have been listening to you, Severus. And I can quite sincerely say that when I hear you rant about 'Potter', half the time I cannot tell if you are speaking of Harry . . . . or James."

Snape backed up a pace. "Do you have such a low opinion of me that you think that I am merely chasing after an old grudge?"

"I have at times, seen you put considerably more energy into the perceived misdeeds of Harry Potter than toward the darkness that we both know is coming. Could Harry Potter possibly be such a threat?"

Sneering, Snape advanced. "If he fails in this destiny you think he has, then he might as well be in league with the Dark Lord himself."

Dumbledore looked satisfyingly surprised and the younger wizard pressed his advantage. "If he is weak from the indulgences allowed to him from his undeserved fame; if 'the boy who lived' falls to the Dark Lord then his victory over all of us is assured." Snape's throat tightened, but he went on. "And his mother's sacrifice will have been wasted." He closed his mouth tight over the betraying emotion.

Lowering his eyes, Dumbledore stroked his long silver-white beard thoughtfully and began to pace to the side as if deflected by the sting in Snape's words.

"So, it was Lily who defeated Voldemort to you. And her son deserves no credit at all?"

"Of course not!" Snape turned on him, furious. "He was a baby! And she was his mother, and she could do nothing less noble than sacrifice herself for her child." His anger boiled out of the old wound. "A sacrifice, I might note, that her 'heroic' husband did NOT make," he finished through clinched teeth.

Face in profile, Dumbledore's head nodded and he clasped his hands before him. "I see. Then you aim to extinguish any trace of James in the boy. Because he failed. Her."

Now Snape began to pace before the Headmaster, like a prosecutor making his case. "You have said so yourself, we cannot afford to fail. And James did precisely that. The more like his father he is, the weaker he is."

"A pity you can't do anything about his appearance," he quipped and went on before Snape could form a retort. "I see a more noble cause for your actions than I thought before. Thank you, Severus. I had always wondered why you never seem to have blamed Lily for choosing to marry your rival. Because the fault was never hers at all, it was always his. And like our young Hufflepuff who was here earlier, she was merely led astray."

He turned back to his desk but Snape dashed forward, cutting him off.

"You see NOTHING!"

Again, Snape felt the satisfaction of seeing Dumbledore's blue eyes widen in surprise.

"I am the one who was led astray. For YEARS, she warned me about the Dark Lord and I refused to see it even though she was LIVING PROOF that all his skrewt-droppings about pure blood wizards was only cover for his own ambitions. All he cared about was his own power. No one else mattered. But I would not listen! The only honorable thing for her to do was end our friendship. James could not take her from me; I drove her away. And it took her noble death for me to see it," he hissed out and turned away, pacing out a bitter circle in the room. He caught a few glimpses of the former Headmaster portraits curiously looking at him from the walls, but they quickly looked away from his angry glare.

"There is more of his mother in Harry than you think. More than just his eyes," Dumbledore said softly.

Snape's long black hair whipped about his head. "I don't see it. Perhaps it is you who sees what you want in the boy."

His shoulders dropping, Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot deny that this is a possibility." But he did not give Snape any time to enjoy his victory. "Returning to your complaint, if you can produce any proof that Harry is stealing from your Potions stores then bring it to me. But Severus, please," Dumbledore mildly implored, "do not discount the possibility that others with more sinister motives may be responsible."

Snape bowed his head to this minor concession.

"Of course, Headmaster, I shall always be vigilant." If Harry Potter really was more like his mother, then he would not be stealing from the Potions stores at all and his improved magical traps and alarms would catch Dumbledore's imagined spy of the Dark Lord.

Satisfied, Snape swept from the room. Potter would not steal anything from him again.


**** END ****

 

I can quite sincerely say that when I hear you rant about 'Potter', half the time I cannot tell if you are speaking of Harry . . . . or James

I love this line. It so perfectly fits the way Snape sometimes sees Harry (as just a younger James).

Wonderful viggie! And a very interesting note into two parts of this world: both Snape and other students whose lives don't really intersect with Harry's.

Please write more Potter!!!

 

I haven't read GoF in so long; who did it turn out was stealing from Snape and why? Was it Crouch, Jr. for his polyjuice potion?

I don't know why, but I had the craving to read some FF. So, I came in here, found the first thing that looked interesting, and it did not disappoint. Very well written, ardavenport. I saw that you have some other Harry Potter "one-shots," I'll probably go read them now.

The line about seeing James instead of Harry is spot-on. Very Dumbledore-ish thing to say, too.