— Sir, I'm in a hurry. I have another class, — Harry tried his best to find a way out. He had no desire to spend more time in the Potions Master's office than the lesson required. Ron and Hermione lingered at the back of the room, already by the door. Like Harry, they wanted to leave as soon as possible.
— This won't take long, Mr. Potter. Besides, I have already informed Madam Trick of your absence from her class, — this statement made the trio tense up. Meanwhile, Harry had already cursed ten times in his head.
— Sir, I'm not sure why you've kept me here? My potion is far from perfect, but...
— This is not about your potion, Mr. Potter. It's about your back, — at these last words, all the second-years felt a chill run through them.
— How did you find out? — Potter hissed coldly, like a snake. His gaze flicked to his friends. Without words, they tried to come up with a plan, but nothing came to mind.
— My brother told you?! — Ron suddenly blurted out. He knew he shouldn't have trusted Percy. His brother never could keep his mouth shut.
— This has nothing to do with your brother, Mr. Weasley. I learned about Mr. Potter's injuries two days ago, — Snape explained emotionlessly, as always, carefully observing the trio's reaction. Ron and Harry were angry, while Hermione was deep in thought. Severus wasted no time and continued:
— I would like to know where your scars came from.
That was not a good idea. Potter clenched his jaw tightly and glared at the man.
— That's none of your business, sir, — he snapped. And for that small outburst, the boy could hardly be blamed. Harry was used to adults reacting the same way when they saw or found out about his scars. Some called him a shameless liar, while others mocked him and said he deserved it. The boy didn't know how Hogwarts would react, so he hid it carefully. In his first year, only two people had found out. They were the ones who helped him deal with his scars—both physical and emotional.
And now, Ron and Hermione came to Harry's aid again. They stood on either side of him, shielding him, which calmed him down a little. To be honest, Snape had expected such a reaction—he had gone through something similar himself. But back then, there had been no one to protect him like that. Well, except for a few people from Slytherin.
— I don't care about your past, Mr. Potter. What matters now is that I can help—if you allow me, — Harry was about to say something unpleasant, but Hermione stopped him with a firm grip on his arm. For a moment, Severus thought the children were having a silent conversation with each other. But after a minute or two, Potter nodded and released Granger's hand.
— I'll accept your help, sir, — the boy agreed without much enthusiasm.
— Take off your shirt, Mr. Potter, — the Potions Master ordered, pulling a few vials from his personal storeroom. The command made the Gryffindor tense up again—he hated being watched, let alone touched by people he didn't trust or feared. And strangely enough, Snape fell into both of those categories.
— Sir, may I do it myself? — Ron spoke up this time, sensing how nervous his best friend had become.
— I need to make sure Mr. Potter doesn't have any serious injuries. But I promise to be quick, — Severus decided to compromise, which unexpectedly relieved the boy with the scar.
The man didn't lie. The examination was indeed quick, though a little painful. Especially for Ron, whose hand Harry clung to. Potter's grip tightened every time the Potions Master touched his back or accidentally brushed over particularly painful wounds. But thanks to Ron and Hermione's efforts, and the potions and quality bandages, the deep cuts, bruises, and scars healed quickly and without much harm.
— This ointment will help your scars and wounds heal much faster and more effectively, — a quick bandage change, and Harry finally let go of Ron's hand. A few bruises remained on the redhead's skin, but he didn't complain or blame his friend. He understood how hard this was for him—especially with Snape nearby.
— Now, I want to see your wrist.
— You knew about that too? — Potter cautiously rolled up his sleeve and revealed a seemingly clean arm. But upon closer inspection, the air around it shimmered slightly—a side effect of a concealment spell. Snape used a counter-charm and quickly examined the hand.
— Good work, — Snape's rare praise surprised Hermione and everyone in the room. They never expected the man to compliment anyone besides his favored Slytherins. After all the bandages were reapplied, Snape moved on to the next important part of the conversation.
— I would like to discuss the matter of a new guardian for you, Mr. Potter.
— What do you mean?
— I will be speaking with Professor Dumbledore today about assigning you a new guardian. Given the new circumstances, you cannot remain with your current family, — this news left Harry with mixed feelings. Of course, he would love to escape the Dursleys and live in the wizarding world, but what guarantee was there that his new family wouldn't be worse?
— I'm not sure this is a good idea, sir. I'm fine with how things are as long as I'm at Hogwarts, — the prospect unsettled Potter. At least now, he had some form of stability.
— Don't be ridiculous, Potter. This is not up for discussion. A more suitable guardian will be chosen for you. I will personally see to it.
— That's what I'm afraid of, — Potter muttered under his breath.
— Did you say something? — Of course, the Potions Master's sharp ears didn't miss the remark, but he chose to ignore it.
— Nothing, — the boy with the scar smiled innocently. — If that's all, can we leave?
— You are dismissed, Mr. Potter. I will inform you later of Professor Dumbledore's decision, — the trio quickly hurried out.
— What was that all about?
— I don't know, and I don't want to know. Let's go, class has already started, — Ron, Harry, and Hermione rushed toward the training grounds. Each of them was lost in thought, and all were troubled by Snape's behavior. None of them trusted him completely.
During Madam Trick's class, the boys finally relaxed, as their minds were occupied only by broomsticks and Quidditch. Hermione, however, was deep in thought, analyzing the situation and hoping nothing bad would happen.
Later in the evening, Harry was summoned to Snape's office, which greatly unnerved the teenager. He outright refused to go anywhere without his friends.
— If it makes you feel better, we'll stay by the door. If Snape tries to kill you, just scream as loudly as you can, — Ron joked, giving his friend an encouraging grin. The gesture reassured Potter slightly.
— Good luck, Harry. Everything will be fine, — Hermione hugged him and patted his shoulder.
— Don't act like you're sending me to my execution. I'm just going to Snape's office. Though... there's not much difference, — Potter took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He was immediately invited inside.
— What are you doing? Eavesdropping is rude.
— Shhh. You're making noise, — the girl rolled her eyes at her friend's manners but pressed her ear to the door as well. After all, she was worried about Harry too.
Inside the office, two people were waiting—Professor Dumbledore and, unsurprisingly, Snape. The Headmaster smiled warmly as usual, while the Potions Master looked clearly irritated about something. Harry didn't like the situation one bit.
— Sit down, dear boy. We want to discuss your temporary guardian, — Snape rolled his eyes at Dumbledore's cheerful tone.
— And who will that be, sir?
— I am your new temporary guardian, Mr. Potter, — Snape gritted out through clenched teeth.
— WHAT?! — Harry shouted, making Ron and Hermione jump outside the door. They stared at each other in shock.
— He's going to be his new guardian?!
At that moment, Harry had only one thought:
"I hope it's not too late to go back to the Dursleys.