"In the library?" Severus interrupted, eyes wide with mock incredulity.
The boy's grin turned cheeky. "Yes, sir."
"Please." Severus waved his hand. "Do go on."
"Very well," Harry said slowly, in a fair imitation of Severus' own tones, and Severus shook his head, a smile touching his lips at last. "So, we did research, sir, in the library, and then tried Quiest Vomica and . . ." He listed a few more diagnostic spells, rather enthusiastically, and Severus was duly impressed.
He decided to say as much. "I'm heartened by your thoroughness. You did far more than I would expect the average first year to do. Did you discover who sent the sweets?"
"Yeah! Er, I mean, yes, sir. By eliminating our own signatures, we figured out the magical signature of the one who'd sent the Frogs . . . and 'cause we had two samples, we were able to cross reference it to make sure. Then I checked the signatures of a couple people I thought it might be, and found out it was 'Mione. I mean, Hermione Granger."
"Magical signatures? That's a fairly advanced bit of spellwork there. I believe it's taught in fourth year Charms."
The boy ducked his head at the perceived compliment. Severus waited till the tousled head came back up before he steered the conversation back to his question. "So, Mr. Nott assisted you with a project. You said Miss Bulstrode supports you in conflicts with other students . . ."
"Not conflicts, sir. Not really."
"No?"
"No."
"You're equivocating."
"I'm what?"
"Equivocating. Being deliberately ambiguous. There have been conflicts, but you do not wish to admit to, or dwell on them, perhaps?"
"Well . . ." Harry frowned lightly, drawing his lower lip between upper and lower teeth. Severus wanted to smear the peppery Salpician Potion on the boy's lips, to train him out of that habit before it was too ingrained. Such an obvious display of nervousness went against everything Slytherin. For the time being, though, he simply made a mental note to address the issue later. "I guess. I mean, no one gets along with everyone, right?"
"Correct. However, I believe some of your difficulties have less to do with you not getting along with everyone, and more to do with your history and the reason behind your fame." Severus was speculating wildly here, having not heard of any specific troubles coming out of his House, but he was well acquainted with human nature, especially when it came to his Snakes.
"My history . . . Oh. You mean because of Voldemort?"
Severus winced. "Do not say his name, Potter. Not in my presence."
"I . . ." Harry frowned a bit, then nodded. "Yes, sir."
Inclining his head, Severus pressed, "Your conflicts?"
Harry looked down at his hands. "Teddy's pointed out a couple kids whose parents were allied with Vol . . . er, with him, and I think there's a few others who don't like me because of that."
Severus could just imagine. Mr. Nott was a standout because he didn't seem to harbor resentment on behalf of his father. "What form does this dislike take?" he asked.
"Oh, er, just, like name-calling mostly. Nobody's ever beat me up or anything."
"I am glad to hear it."
"Except Professor Quirrell."
With a sigh, Severus nodded. "I know. I am trying my best to have him removed, but am running into unexpected obstacles."
"Like the Headmaster."
It wasn't a question, and Severus stared at the boy, boggled again by how well Harry seemed to appreciate the difficulties he was up against here at Hogwarts. "Indeed."
Harry nodded solemnly and his lip disappeared between his teeth again to be chewed for a few moments. Before Severus could admonish him for the behavior, he said, "Sir? Was the Headmaster the one who left me with the Dursleys?"
"Why do you ask?"
A corner of the boy's mouth quirked up. "Well, I figure, you're asking questions, so I could ask questions, too."
"That is an unwarranted assumption."
"Yes, sir." Harry hesitated, and Severus held his gaze. "Will you answer anyway?"
Severus considered the pros and cons of doing so. He would like to know what had brought Harry to ask the question in the first place. Did he believe the Headmaster, in refusing to get rid of Quirrell, was merely continuing the policy of being cavalier with his safety begun ten years ago, when he was left on the doorstep of those Muggles? Even more, though, he wanted to know what Harry would do with the answer to that question.
"Why do you want to know?" he asked again.
The corner of Harry's mouth lifted a bit further, into what could almost be a sneer. "If I told you I just wanted to know who to thank, you wouldn't tell me, would you?"
"Perhaps not." Severus leaned forward on his desk, to put additional weight on his words. "Revenge is not the end you should be seeking at this time."
"I'm not--"
"Listen!" He stared into the boy's emerald eyes. Harry must understand this. "There's an old saying: La vengeance est un plat qui se mange froid. 'Vengeance is a dish best served cold.' You are currently reaching an awareness that your life was not all it could have been. Between the Dark Lord, your relatives, and a few select others, what could have been an idyllic childhood was wrenched from you. You have suffered, yes. You are furious and frustrated and want someone to blame."
As Severus went on, he could see Harry tense. His hands clenched into fists, though he kept them in his lap. His shoulders were shaking from the strain. His eyes were green fire. Oh, yes, Severus' words were striking home. He just hoped he could pull the boy back before he did anything horrendously Gryffindorish.
"In such a state," he said, in a low, clear tone that he had learned over the years was one that often mesmerized his students, "your thinking is impaired by such extremes of emotion. You will make mistakes. Thus, your revenge will never be as complete, nor as sweet as you want it to be. It cannot. You cannot fully appreciate the fruits of your efforts while still caught up in your rage and distress."
When Severus paused to let his words sink in, Harry nodded slowly. The fire in his eyes dampened to embers. "But when I've . . . cooled down?"
"At that time, you will be more in control."
For a long moment, Harry held Severus' gaze, but then he dropped his head to stare at his hands. His voice was soft, and void of emotion, as he said, "But I was right. Professor Dumbledore left me with them."
Severus let his silence answer for him. Then he sighed. "To be fair, you had no other family. And your godfather had just been imprisoned. There was nowhere else for you to go."
Harry's head came up with a jerk. "I have a godfather?!"
Severus barely kept himself from growling. "Yes."
The boy frowned at the enmity contained in that one word, and Severus winced. He obviously had still not cooled enough -- if he were to come across bloody Sirius Black from some inconceivable reason -- to enact his own revenge against that cur.
"Who is he?"
Severus shook his head.
"You don't know him? I thought you said--"
"I don't wish to discuss it!"
The damnable Brat cocked his head to the side and considered him like a Cerberus considered a steak . . . or a Potion Master's leg. Then he nodded slowly, again, his face taking on his blank mask once more, after all Severus had done to dismantle it this evening. "My apologies, Professor. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."
"Never mind. Forget it."
"Yes, sir."
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Are we done, sir?"
Without looking up, Severus said, "What form, besides name-calling, have your conflicts taken?"
As he had planned, the boy was enough taken aback by the swift change in subject to not hide his reaction. He shrugged and looked away. His shoulders hunched. But at least he did not deny such other incidents existed.