Capítulo 12: Snape Just Wishes I’d Ruin My Looks
Hermione and Ron watched Harry walk away.
His pace hadn't changed from its usual calm stride, yet somehow, he looked as if he were marching to a noble, heroic fate.
He must have nerves of steel, they thought. Who would willingly go see Snape after that class?
"Potter." Snape was sorting through his lesson materials when he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up, gaze sweeping over Harry's face and those eyes before disgust rushed back into his expression. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to thank you for your guidance, Professor." Harry nodded politely, attempting to ease the tension.
Snape's face twisted as if he'd tasted something foul. "Oh, the 'thanks' of a Gryffindor? You lot would rather lose your heads atop the tower than show any respect." He sneered. "Disgusting! Like hearing a troll confessing its love to a unicorn."
"Spare me the act, Potter. Speak plainly."
Harry spoke up. "Professor Dumbledore mentioned my mother left some potion notes with you. I was wondering…"
"Yes," Snape cut in, eyes narrowing, growing sharper and more dangerous. "Lily…"
He abruptly stopped, taking a deep breath. "Evans did leave some notes, but I don't believe you're ready for them."
"Your scab cure wasn't even passable. A troll could make better use of those notes as kindling."
Harry met Snape's glare without flinching.
Snape's frustration spiked, and he jabbed Harry's chest with his wand. "When making requests, Potter, you lower yourself. You were never taught this, but I'll teach you now!"
"Remember this, Potter!"
Harry brushed the wand aside. "I can understand your feelings, Professor, but remember, these notes are my mother's legacy."
At the words "mother" and "legacy," Harry's tone hardened slightly.
BANG!
Snape's fist slammed into the table. "Potter!" he snarled through gritted teeth.
"Professor," Harry replied calmly, hand slipping into his Sorting Hat.
"Fine, fine." Snape clenched his fist, eyes catching Harry's subtle move, which only fueled his rage. "I expected better from you, but you're just as arrogant and unbearable as your father."
"Evans left a total of twenty-three notebooks. After your end-of-year exams, come to my office. I'll set a test, and you'll have to score an 'O'—Outstanding."
"If you fail, forget those notes."
"Dumbledore won't be able to change my mind."
Harry let go of his hat, nodding. "Thank you, Professor Snape."
Snape snorted, dropping his materials and storming out of the room. Not another second did he want to see Potter's face.
"I thought you two were going to fight," Ron said, clutching his chest as if he could feel the bruises himself.
Hermione nodded.
Harry looked confused. "I thought our conversation went well. Why did it look like we were about to fight?"
"You had your hand in the hat!" Hermione's voice pitched in exasperation. Did Harry misunderstand what "pleasant" meant?
What was in the hat?
The Sword of Gryffindor.
Harry shook his head. "I was just considering leaving Professor Snape a deposit for safekeeping."
"Why pay him?" Ron clenched his fists. "What if he's holding onto your mother's notes as part of some twisted plan?"
"Ron," Harry's voice firmed. "Professor Snape is a good man."
Hermione cast a concerned look at him. "Harry, no offense, but…are you okay?"
"Snape probably cared about my mother," Harry said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading out. "I think he was my father's rival in love."
"A rival?"
Hermione and Ron, stunned, nearly bumped into each other.
"Wait, you know this for sure?" Hermione asked, clutching her books tightly, both curious and a little gossipy. "Did Professor Dumbledore tell you?"
Harry shook his head. "It's obvious."
Yet, the emotion was too strong to be normal.
Harry recalled other love rivals he knew of, like Yennefer and Triss, both once close friends, who fought fiercely over Geralt. But even they hadn't reached Snape's level of intensity.
He had to find out more—like it or not, Snape was the most skilled Potions Master Harry could access. A few comments from him had already proven useful; who knew what he could learn if he unlocked Snape's full expertise?
The three of them left the castle, curiosity bubbling in Ron and Hermione about Snape's connection to Harry's parents and what could have driven Snape to this level of hatred.
As they reached Hagrid's hut—small only compared to Hagrid's size—Harry knocked on the door.
With a bark from his dog, Fang, Hagrid opened up.
Harry's greeting froze as he glanced around inside, eyes wide with surprise.
Ron and Hermione looked at him, confused—it was rare to see an expression on Harry's usually stoic face. Even during the tension with Snape, Harry had kept his calm.
What was in Hagrid's hut?
They peered inside.
It was an ordinary space, even a bit shabby, reminding Ron of home.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Hagrid asked, scratching his head as Fang quieted down. "Something off with my house?"
Harry shook his head, gathering himself. "No, I just didn't expect…you'd live so luxuriously."
Luxurious?
Ron and Hermione turned to Harry, intrigued, studying his eyes.
There were rumors among the Gryffindors that Harry's amber eyes could see things others couldn't. Some even claimed he could see through magic itself and had used them to defeat the Dark Lord.
Hagrid looked just as puzzled. "Comfy enough, sure, but luxury? Hardly."
Harry pointed around the room. "That dog bed and blanket are made of unicorn hair, the wind chime is crafted from mermaid scales, and those, are those Bowtruckles?"
"And there by the fire, are those fire-dwelling salamanders?"
Harry named what he recognized.
The hut was filled with more magical items than just these. There were jars on the windowsill, all radiating magical energy, likely containing venom, blood, or saliva from magical creatures.
Hagrid's eyes brightened. "Aye, lad! You fancy these little critters?"
"No." Harry shook his head decisively. "But I do like the materials they provide."
Ron and Hermione didn't fully grasp the value of these items, though they eyed Fang's bed with a tinge of envy. They knew the worth of unicorn hair, which fetched ten Galleons per strand.
That seemingly ordinary bed could cost a thousand Galleons.
"Oh, alright then." Hagrid chuckled, used to such reactions from wizards, though certain pock-faced exceptions adored the creatures themselves. "So, how's Hogwarts treating you? I've heard you're doing great in your classes."
"It's fine," Harry replied nonchalantly, still scanning the room.
Ron leaned forward, grabbing one of Hagrid's oversized biscuits. "Hagrid, do you know anything about Professor Snape and Harry's dad?"
"Harry's dad?" Hagrid paused mid-reach, the sudden lapse causing a biscuit to drop onto Hermione's head.
"Ow!" Hermione rubbed her head, exclaiming, "Harry says Professor Snape might have been rivals in love with his father!"
"What?" Hagrid's eyes widened. "Who told you that, Harry?"
Harry glanced over. "No one needed to. It's obvious."
"But just because they were rivals doesn't explain Snape's level of hostility."
"I'd like to know more."
Hagrid lowered his head. "Harry, I'm just the Keeper of Keys. I don't know much about what went on."
"But…Snape and James never got along. They'd constantly duel, casting hexes at each other."
"Lily was close with Snape until fifth year, but they weren't romantically involved—just friends. She and James started dating in seventh year and married soon after graduating."
Rivalry turned to heartbreak.
Ron and Hermione's faces lit up with scandalous excitement.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure there isn't more to it?"
"Good heavens! You're as sharp as Dumbledore," Hagrid sighed, clenching his fist. "Talking to you two feels like having Dumbledore in the room—both of you seeing through everything."
"But Harry, I swear, that's all I know."
"Maybe Snape's attitude is harsh, but believe me, of everyone at Hogwarts, even including Dumbledore, he's the one who least wants you harmed."
Ron grumbled, "Then why does he act like he wants to feed Harry to a troll?"
"Snape is trustworthy. Dumbledore relies on him a lot," Hagrid emphasized.
Harry agreed. "I trust Professor Snape. He might wish I'd lose my looks or my eyesight or even my personality, but he definitely doesn't want me in danger."
Oh…
Ron was at a loss for words.
Hagrid, too, seemed momentarily stumped, loosening his grip as another of his stone-like biscuits dropped onto Hermione's head.
"Ow!" she exclaimed, rubbing the spot. "That hardly feels like concern…"
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