jharad17: Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

Story:

Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

Storylink:

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3774019/1/

Category:

Harry Potter

Genre:

Angst/Drama

Author:

jharad17

Authorlink:

http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1298924/

Last updated:

10/16/2008

Words:

80346

Rating:

T

Status:

Complete

Content:

Chapter 1 to 24 of 24 chapters

Source:

FanFiction.net

Summary:

Soon after rescuing his 7yearold son, Harry, from the abusive Dursleys, Snape starts his teaching career at Hogwarts.Harry finds more ways to surprise his father, and a school full of students. Snape'll have his hands full. Warn:violence,chld abse.

*Chapter 1*: Chapter 1

Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape

Chapter 1

By jharad17

Disclaimer:None of this is mine. Honest. She's rich, blond and British. I'm not.

A/N:I've skipped only a few days between the last scene of Whelp and the first scene of Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape . If you haven't read Whelp before looking at this story . . . well, why not? Really, you should, 'cause otherwise, you're gonna be plenty lost. To all those coming back for the sequel . . . Hope you enjoy the ride. Love and hugs!

---

The children started entering the Great Hall, and Harry could hardly keep from bouncing in his chair. But he knew he had to stay quiet and behave himself like a proper gentleman or he'd be sent to his room instead, and he really, really wanted to stay. For one thing, he was sitting next to his father, and he always liked to be near him; it made him feel safer than anywhere else. And secondly, he wanted to see Charlie again, and Father had promised he would be at dinner.

This was the first time Harry had been to dinner in the Great Hall. He 'd had lunch with Father and some of the staff -- and even Mrs. Weasley and Ron and Charlie -- before, but the room was so full now. And noisy. And lit with thousands of bright candles that floated overhead, in the midst of a deep dark sky filled with stars. The tables were set with glittering golden goblets in plates, and the faces of the students shone like lanterns in the candlelight. It was beautiful.

And scary.

Father looked over at him when his knees started shaking, and put one of his narrow-fingered hands over Harry's where he had them laced together on the table top. "All right, Harry?" he asked. His voice was smooth and rich, and the way he said Harry's name made him want to smile. Father was the first person he remembered ever saying his name like that. Like he cared. Like he really wanted to know if Harry was all right.

"Yes, si -- er, yes, Father." He'd almost messed up again. He did that when he was upset sometimes, or scared, but Father never yelled at him when he made the mistake of calling him "sir" instead. Sometimes he looked terribly disappointed, though, and Harry hated that. It always made him feel small and stupid, like he still deserved to be locked in a cupboard and screamed at by Uncle Vernon.

"We can leave, if you want," Father said softly. "I can have Nelli stay with you downstairs. There are a lot more people here that you're used to."

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay. But sometimes, everything was just overwhelming. "I'm all right, Father," he said. "Honest."

Father's brows dipped down into a small frown, but then he nodded and let it go. The tables were almost full up, now, and Harry saw a flash of bright red hair amongst the sea of new faces. He sat up straighter, and lifted his hand in a little wave. At the table on the far left of the room, Charlie grinned at him and waved back.

A warm feeling infused Harry. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed.

"Happy now?" Father asked, with a twitch to his lips that Harry knew was like his laugh. "You see he's not forgotten you."

Harry nodded, a contented smile on his face. His Charlie was back. Maybe they could play Quidditch tomorrow, or Esploden Snape, and he could show Charlie the new passageway he'd found with Fern on the third floor, behind the statue of a witch with a humpback. Fern hadn't let him go dow n the passageway, but he bet that he could, with Charlie there. Then they could have tea with Hagrid and talk about dragons again. Harry loved the idea of dragons, but until Charlie started asking Hagrid all he knew about them and how to train them, he'd never actually thought they might be real! Now he really wanted to see one for himself, but Father said that was Not Going to Happen.

Peering out at the tables again, Harry saw Charlie talking with a boy to his left, with dark hair and a tanned face. Both were laughing, and Harry frowned at them, wondering what they were saying. Were they talking about dragons?

"Ah. Look there," Father said, and gestured with his chin toward a door to the side of the table. "Here comes Professor McGonagall."

"What's that?" Harry asked, and pointed at her. Professor McGonagall set down a small stool and put a battered cone of cloth on top of it.

"That is the Sorting Hat," Father said.

"What's it do?"

"You'll see."

Harry looked up at his father, the dark, fathomless eyes suppressing mirth. What kinds of things did the hat sort? he wanted to ask, but when Father got all mysterious like this, it was usually because he wanted Harry to see something without any "preconceived notions," whatever those were. But sometimes, he just liked to see Harry be surprised. Harry figured it wouldn't be anything scary , because Father knew not to surprise Harry with scary things.

Harry was going to change his mind, though, when the Professor left for a moment and then came back into the Great Hall, leading a line of terrified looking new students. Some of them were whiter in the face than Sir Nicholas, and at least one of them was actually crying.

"What's gonna happen to them, Daddy?" Harry whispered.

Father gave him a sharp look, and then squeezed his hands with his one strong one. "Don't worry, Harry," he said just as softly. "Nothing will hurt them at all. It's just a little test."

Harry swallowed and nodded. He trusted his father. Had to. Father had rescued him bunches of times, from Mr. Filch, from the squid and from the Dursleys, and he was the only person in the world who had promised over and over to keep Harry safe.

Right after the line of new students halted in front of the head table, to Harry's amazement, a slit opened in the side of the Hat and it started to sing! Harry didn't understand all the words of its song, but he heard the names of the Houses, like Father had taught him: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Father was in charge of Slytherin, and he said snakes were the best of the lot. Harry, who very much liked snakes, especially the ones he had talked with, had to agree.

When the Hat was done singing, there was a lot of clapping from the tables of students, and even from the head table. Then Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a scroll in her hands, which she unrolled. She looked over the line of new students and nodded. "When I read your name, you will come up here, put on the Hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Sarah."

A girl with long blond hair done in one wide pigtail down her back jerked forward as if pulled by an invisible string and stood next to the stool. The Professor lifted the Hat briefly, so the girl could sit down, and when she had, the Hat went on her head. The girl sat rigidly on the stool, her hands clasped together in front of her, for a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity to Harry. What was the Hat doing?