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Severus Snape was not registered speechless often in his life.
From a young age, he had trained himself in the art of maintaining a mask of stoicism. Good thing he had, considering it was one of the few things keeping him alive.
Snape knew the importance of maintaining appearances. He was no fool, nor was he a particularly emotive man.
He much preferred to allow his emotions to remain in his heart, rather than show them on his person. This was something he had decided on when he was a child, and his resolve had not wavered since then.
Until, of course, Harry Potter was sorted.
Harry fucking Potter.
Why wouldn’t it be a Potter? It wasn’t as though this was the first time a Potter had broken through his facade of stoicism.
Snape had mixed feelings on the likes of Harry Potter. When he was young, bitter, and full of grief, he had held extreme contempt for anything remotely related to James.
But of course, time passes, and things change. Severus was still bitter and grieving, this much was true.
His grief, however, was not an excuse to despise a child he had never met. He had been more than happy to hate Harry Potter, but Minerva had set him straight. The woman had an odd relationship with him.
She was...like a stern aunt, who also happened to enjoy getting sloshed with him over the holidays. Although she held a soft spot for Potter and his crew of troublemakers, she also held a soft spot for Severus.
Which was why he did not glare at Harry Potter when he walked into the great hall. He did not .
Well, maybe his eyes narrowed a little bit. But that was neither here nor there. He didn’t like children regardless of who their parents were.
Admittedly, with his implicit bias somewhat smothered, he realized the boy was not quite how he thought a Potter child would be.
Firstly, he was clothed in rags. Even someone as oblivious as Hagrid would be able to spot the various holes, and the weared seams were nothing to scoff at either. The clothing seemed much too large for him, with the way it positively hung off the boys frame.
Which was another thing-just how small Potter was. Eleven year old boys were not muscular by any means, but Potter was shorter and thinner than almost all of the other first years.
Snape shoved all of those observations to the back of his mind, content to watch the sorting with barely concealed boredom.
Even if Minerva had changed his mind on the Potter spawn, Snape was well aware that dark times were coming, and Potter was a key player. If anyone got word that he was observing certain students, things would not look good for him.
As students starting getting called up, Snape idly swirled the wine in his glass. Truly, part of him was expecting Potter to be exactly like his father.
Of course, he would not dare to say that out loud. Minerva was quite an intimidating woman when she wanted to be.
Snape barely payed attention to the students sorting. He would have more than enough time to get to know his new Slytherins on a personal level. There was no need for him to pay attention to them now.
The last thing he would want was for people to think he cared .
Draco Malfoy took less than five seconds to get sorted. Snape was not surprised. The boy was the embodiment of Lucius at the moment.
Snape only hoped that he grew out of that.
Draco was his own person, despite what his father wanted him to become. Snape was confident in himself, though. As long as he was able to communicate with Draco, he would likely be able to nudge the boy out from the shadow of his family name.
Most of the children with parents from the inner circle were sorted into Slytherin. Nott, Crabbe, Goyle.
Again, Snape was not surprised. He only felt a sense of foreboding spark deep in his chest. These children had likely been indoctrinated from a young age, fed agendas and ideas they were unable to understand.
It was his responsibility to ensure they would not become their parents. Snape was aware it would not be an easy task, nor would it be fully successful.
But what were Slytherins, if not ambitious?
Finally, the sorting of the evening came.
Harry Potter approached the Sorting Hat. The Great Hall broke into murmurs, many students staring at Potter as though he was an alien.
The boy’s hands were trembling something fierce, Snape noticed. Everytime Potter noticed all the eyes on him, he only seemed to shake more. Dumbledore had that damned twinkle in his eyes.
No doubt the man believed Potter would be sorted into Gryffindor. His parents were the embodiment of the house, after all.
Snape had his doubts, considering the way the boy tried to make himself as small as possible when near others. He supposed they would just have to wait and see. Maybe he would be a Huffelpuff or Ravenclaw.
“SLYTHERIN!” The hat yelled after minutes of contemplation.
Well, that was certainly unexpected.
The Great Hall was as quiet as it had ever been.
Eventually the Slytherin table started cheering loudly. All the other houses politely clapped, though Snape could tell some of them were uncomfortable with the boy savior being sorted into the ‘evil’ house.
Dumbledore had lost his twinkle, something that made Snape unreasonably joyful.
Snape spared a glance at the other staff members at his table. Pomona looked like she was about to have a stroke, Quirrel looked ill, Filius appeared contemplative, and Minerva was a mix of annoyed and happy.
Harry Potter certainly knew how to shake things up. Snape had no doubt this was going to be one of the most eventful years Hogwarts had in a while.
Of course Potter had to be sorted in his house.
Snape poured himself another glass of wine. He had no doubt he would be needing it sooner rather than later.
It always had to be Potter, didn’t it.
--------
Peering around from under his fringe, Harry couldn’t prevent the awe from painting his face.
He had magic. And he was at a school to learn how to use it. Hogwarts was incredible-Harry could barely get enough of it. From the floating lights to the golden decor lining the huge walls, Harry was more than enraptured.
There was so much to see . He didn’t think the novelty would ever wear off. Part of him hoped it didn’t.
There was a whole world of magic, with a government and an economy and history. Frankly, Harry couldn’t wait to dive into classes. And he had a house !
Despite Malfoy being a git on the train, Harry was glad to be sorted into Slytherin. He quite liked snakes.
Gryffindor seemed cool and all, but it was too... showy . Everyone was loud and boisterous, the center of attention.
All things Harry did not want to be. All things Harry had been punished for being.
Most of the people at the Slytherin table were still staring at him. Harry wrung his hands together, heaviness setting in his stomach.
He was sitting next to a dark-skinned boy with very short hair. Across from him was Malfoy, and on the other side of him was a dark eyed boy with fair hair.
They were all quite put-together. Harry felt out of place. The corner of his lips tilted downwards. Glancing down at his hands, Harry silently berated himself.
He didn’t know why he thought Hogwarts would be different. Why would he ever think he could fit in here?
A feeling crawled up Harry’s throat the longer people stared. It was one he was more than familiar with. It was as though a thousand needles were pricking at his lungs, poking through his tongue and piercing his ability to speak.
His primary school teacher called it ‘social anxiety’. Aunt Petunia called it ‘pathetic, weak, attention-seeking behavior’.
Harry allowed himself to glance quickly at the other house tables. Everyone was chattering, but every few seconds people would stare at him. The others at the Slytherin table had noticed it too.
Guilt enveloped Harry’s thoughts. It was his fault people were staring. The whole Boy-Who-Lived thing, he supposed.
“Sorry. A-About the staring, I mean. It’s probably because of me. I wish they wouldn’t do that, but I don’t think I can make them stop.” Harry murmured.
The other Slytherins glanced at him in poorly disguised surprise. Silence stretched on for a few minutes, to the point where Harry’s cheeks were starting to flush in embarrassment.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
The first person to make a noise was Malfoy, who simply scoffed at Harry and rolled his eyes.
“I, personally, don’t care. I’m more than used to being the center of attention-my father is quite well-known, in case you haven’t heard.”
The dark-skinned boy next to Harry snorted. Malfoy shot him a glare before switiching his attention back to Harry.
“Anyways, I haven’t forgiven you for denying my friendship on the train. I am a Malfoy, but obviously you don’t understand the weight of my name, otherwise you would be jumping to be friends with me.”
The corners of Harry’s lips twitched up in amusement. At first, Malfoy had reminded him of Dudley. But now it just seemed like the boy was tired of being lonely.
“I’m declaring you my rival, Potter. What do you think of that?” Malfoy looked proud at his idea, chin proudly jutting out.
Harry just shrugged. Malfoy scoffed in annoyance, ignoring Harry in favor of talking to one of the girls on his side of the table.
The dark-skinned boy nudged Harry, faintly grinning.
“I’m Blaise Zabini, but you can just call me Blaise.” Harry nodded, committing the name to memory.
The fair-skinned boy on the other side of Harry also introduced himself.
“Theodore Nott. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Theodore was too long of a name. Harry figured it would be best to just refer to him as Theo.
“Nice to meet you, Blaise, Theo.” Theo sputtered at the nickname, while Blaise just rolled his eyes at the other boys antics.
Before the group could talk more, Dumbledore ambled up to the podium at the end of the hall.
The headmaster then proceeded to give a long-winded speech, ending it with some sort of gibberish.
Glancing over to Blaise and Theo, it seemed like they were just as muffed as Harry was. If that was the man in charge of the school, Harry was worried to see what the teachers were like.
He hoped they weren’t all that...eccentric.
The headmaster clapped his hands, and suddenly platters of food appeared on the tables. There was so much that Harry couldn’t help but gape.
He would have never even dreamed of having this much food at the Dursleys. And apparently they were allowed to eat all of it.
The rest of Slytherin started piling food up onto their plates. Harry could only stare in shock and confusion. They didn’t have to ask permission for the food?
This felt like it was a trick. Maybe it was a test of some sort. Uncle Vernon enjoyed doing that from time to time, too.
The needle feeling from earlier came back, and for a moment Harry felt like he couldn’t breathe.
The needles were surrounding him, inches away from his skin. Harry couldn’t handle the anticipation-he would rather they just stick him, rather than hovering and leaving him constantly on edge.
Blaise gently poked at him, frowning at the flinch Harry gave in response.
“Are you not going to eat, Potter?”
Harry flushed. He had forgotten there were so many other people here. Part of him felt a little warm at the fact that someone was worried that he wasn’t eating. No one had really made him feel like that before.
“Call me Harry, please.” He muttered quietly, hesitantly starting to place some food on his plate. Theo and Blaise side-eyed him, seemingly content that he was eating something.
Despite the people staring every few minutes, Harry found that for once, he was actually feeling kind of happy.
Maybe fitting in wouldn’t be as hard as the thought it would be.
--------
Once the feast passed, Harry followed the prefects to the Slytherin common room, Blaise and Theo right next to him.
For some odd reason, Malfoy also stuck close to the group. Harry shrugged it off, more focused on remembering the route they were taking.
Abruptly, the prefects stopped in front of a portrait. On it had an old man with a snake wrapped around his arm.
“Bloodroot.” The prefect muttered. Harry watched in awe as the portrait swung aside to show an open door. Harry followed the rest of the first years in.
The space was huge .
The common room had multiple couches and desks, and Harry spotted a bookshelf in the back corner. Dark green and silver decorated the room, with hints of purple and blue highlighting the main decor.
What captured Harry’s attention the most, however, was the man standing in the middle of the room.
He was tall, with black hair and black billowing robes.
After they had all been ushered in, the tall man stepped in front of the group, somehow managing to silently capture their attention.
“Welcome to the Slytherin common room. I am your head of house. My name is Severus Snape, however you will refer to me as Professor Snape for the duration of your time at Hogwarts. No need to make yourselves comfortable-this speech will not take long.”
Harry was immediately entranced.
Professor Snape’s voice was smooth and nasally. The man’s presence was one that Harry could easily get lost in, a dangerous whirlpool of silent power and dark kindness.
“Being a Slytherin means being united . You will not have feuds or arguments between eachother outside of your dorm rooms. You will protect and help one another-prejudice and family aside.”
Professor Snape went through a few more general rules. They had a curfew, and violating it would result in detention. If there was trouble, they were instructed to floo call a prefect or come to Professor Snape himself.
Finally, Snape ended his speech with a sentence that Harry didn’t think he would ever forget.
“Remember this: Slytherin is the embodiment of all four houses. In order to be a true Slytherin, you must utilize intelligence, kindheartedness, and bravery.”
With that, the man turned on his heel and walked out of the room, cloak rippling behind him.
The prefects took over as soon as Professor Snape left. They informed them that first years would be sharing rooms, with about two people per room.
Harry was rooming with Theo. The boy smiled softly at Harry, who returned the gesture hesitantly.
Once again, Harry found himself amazed at the size of his shared room. He supposed anything would be big compared to a cupboard.
After he put his few belongings away, Harry sunk into his bed.
As darkness overcame his vision, Harry couldn’t help but think that this was a lot more comfortable than a mattress on a floor.
He had a bed, he had food, he had friends, and he had magic.
What more could a boy possibly need?
--------
Harry spotted Blaise and Malfoy on a couch in the common room, enthusiastically walking towards them.
Blaise looked glad to see him, while Malfoy looked like he was still half-asleep. When Harry sent the blonde-haired boy a questioning glance, Malfoy just glared at him.
It didn’t do much. In fact, it kind of reminded Harry of a kitten.
“Don’t mind him, he’s not a morning person, that one. Where’s Theo?” Harry sighed, slumping down onto the sofa next to Blaise.
“Getting ready. I didn’t even know someone could have that many hair products.”
Blaise snorted.
“Maybe him and Draco could share notes.”
Of course, at that moment, Theo walked up to them. He seemed to have managed to catch the end of Blaise’s sentence, tilting his head curiously.
“Notes about what?”
Blaise rolled his eyes.
“How to be pompous appearance-obesessed prats.”
Malfoy stood up, scowling fiercely at Blaise. Theo joined him, looking a lot more intimidating than Malfoy.
“You simply don’t understand the value of appearances. I doubt you even own hair gel, Blaise. Plus, if anything, we should be ganging up on Potter.”
Harry blinked in surprise at being mentioned.
“Call me Harry.” He said instinctively. Malfoy reared back in shock, and for a moment Harry was worried the boys mouth would drop onto the floor.
“Call me Draco, then. If we’re rivals, we need to be on a first-name basis. Otherwise we’re just enemies.”
The statement confused Harry a bit, but he just shrugged it off. He figured Draco was someone he would have to pick and choose his battles with. Judging by Theo’s appraising glance, he had made the right decision in staying silent.
Blaise sighed in annoyance, shoving Theo and Draco forwards.
“Great. Now that we’ve established you are still, in fact, rivals with Harry, I want breakfast. Get a move on, otherwise I’ll put pink hair dye in both of your hair products.”
Theo and Draco gasped at the same time. Harry had a hard time holding back a giggle. The group started walking down to the Great Hall.
“You wouldn’t.” Theo said, trying to sound sure of himself. Blaise shot him a scathing glare.
“Yes I would. You don’t want to test me this early in the morning. I’ve got my nonna’s temper, apparently.”
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. So Blaise was Italian. That was so cool! Harry had never met anyone Italian before.
Maybe he could learn some Italian words. Blaise might miss the language, maybe he would enjoy being able to speak it with someone at Hogwarts.
Resolving to ask Blaise about it later, Harry continued to walk with the group, content to listen to their heated conversations about hair products.
After a few more minutes, they arrived in front of the Great Hall. Draco, Blaise, and Theo walked in with ease, so Harry figured he would do the same.
As soon as he stepped in, he froze.
There was no awe to distract him from the staring this time.
Maybe it was because Harry wasn’t fully present last night, but now he was realizing just how many people were looking at him.
Oh god.
He didn’t even realize he had started trembling. There were so many people and the room was too small and too hot and Harry thought he might throw up.
Someone was tapping him. Harry wasn’t sure who.
Everyone was still watching. Harry’s vision swam, faces blurring together into one big mass of eyes. He tried to will himself to take a step forwards.
He couldn’t. Harry couldn’t do this.
Turning around, Harry sprinted out of the room as fast as he could. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, he just knew he had to get out .
Harry slid into the first empty classroom he found, slumping down on the floor. He shut his eyes.
He couldn’t breathe. His face felt too warm but his hands and shoulders wouldn’t stop trembling. Panic singed through his nerves, and a sharp burn fanned across his chest.
Was there fire here? Harry didn’t think there was.
Harry was rooted to his spot against the wall. It felt like his fear had become a tangible, living being, immobilizing him.
Everything felt like it was out of control, and all he could think about was all of the people that had seen him.
This had to be what dying felt like. It had to be.
The burning made its way up to Harry’s throat, and Harry couldn’t help but gag. He felt like he was going to throw up.
Someone was touching him. Harry didn’t even realize there were other people in the room. The thought only made him panic more. He hoped there wasn’t a crowd.
Two arms wrapped themselves around his shaking figure, and Harry couldn’t help but relax into them. He had never gotten hugged before.
Maybe he was dreaming. Who would want to hug him ?
“Breathe with me, Harry. Just inhale as much air as you can.”
Harry listened to the voice. It was nice and soothing. He felt like he had heard it before, but his brain wasn’t quite working well enough to identify who it was.
Harry tried to suck in a breath. It was more of a painful wheeze if anything, and Harry started coughing at the sudden rush.
“It’s okay, you’re okay. Once you’re done coughing, try to breathe in for five seconds and breathe out for five seconds. Slowly, though.”
After a few more seconds of coughing, Harry shakily tried to do what the voice told him. In, one two three four five, out, one two three four five, in…
To Harry’s shock, the burning slowly went away. His hands were still trembling, but Harry supposed there wasn’t much he could do there.
Swallowing, Harry opened his eyes a tiny bit.
Professor Snape was the one who had been hugging him. Harry was mortified. It was only the first day of school and he was already bothering his head of house with his stupid issues.
He hoped he wasn’t going to get kicked out. He really wanted to stay.
Next to Professor Snape stood Blaise, Theo, and Draco. They all looked extremely worried, and with a jolt Harry realized they were worried about him .
The tears came down faster than Harry could stop them. Burying his head into Snape’s chest, Harry let himself cry.
He was so embarrassed. Shame washed over him, and Harry felt nauseous all over again.
Pulling his head away from Snape, Harry looked at the man tearfully.
“M’sorry.” Snape scowled softly, gentling running a hand through Harry’s hair.
“What on earth are you sorry for, idiot child?” It took Harry a moment to registed the term as one of endearment rather than insult.
“F-For bothering you. And sorry to Blaise, Draco, and Theo, for thinking you guys would want to be friends with someone like me.”
Blaise stared at Harry for a moment before puffing his chest out.
“Of course we want to still be friends with you.” Blaise exclaimed. Theo nodded in agreement.
“We were worried. And-And kind of scared, so we got Professor Snape.”
Harry’s eyes widened.
“Scared for me ?”
Draco pulled a face at Harry.
“Of course we were scared for you, you idiot! We care about you-er, I mean they care about you as a friend, and I need my rival to be alive. You’re daft if you think we’re going to abandon you over this.”
A blush painted over Harry’s face. He smiled a little at Draco’s denying of his care towards Harry.
“As heartwarming as that declaration was, you three need to get to classes. Mr. Potter will accompany me to my office, where I will check him over to be sure he is physically and mentally okay.”
Harry had forgotten Professor Snape was there.
Draco, Theo, and Blaise glanced at him almost as though to ask if it was okay for them to leave. Harry nodded, weakly waving goodbye to them.
Now that he had calmed a little, Harry felt exhausted .
He allowed Professor Snape to pull him up, silently leaning against the man as they walked slowly to his office.
Once the door was closed, Professor Snape led Harry to one of the cushiony chairs that was in the room. Out of the corner of his eye Harry noticed that the chairs were Slytherin colored.
The teacher took a seat across from Harry, handing the him a small mug. Harry glanced at the liquid inside curiously.
“Chamomile tea. I figured you might be slightly dehydrated, and its known to have calming effects.”
Nodding, Harry brought the lip of the mug to his mouth. He gently blew on the liquid before sipping some.
It was surprisingly good. The warmth from the tea soothed Harry’s throat, and it settled nicely in his chest. It wasn’t like the burning from before. It felt like being wrapped up in a blanket.
“I’m assuming you’re feeling quite tired, so I will make this as easy for you as I can. I’m going to ask yes or no questions, and you can just nod your head in response.”
Harry nodded. He felt oddly touched by the fact that Professor Snape wasn’t forcing him to speak.
“What you were experiencing was a panic attack. Have you had those before?”
Harry nodded. He had, although the people around him hadn’t been nearly as nice about it as they had here.
“Have they always been of that severity?”
Harry shook his head. This one was a particularly bad one-most of the time Harry could get a handle on himself.
Professor Snape slowly exhaled, seemingly contemplating something.
Harry worried his bottom lip. He felt a little guilty that he was making Professor Snape figure this all out on his own.
“My primary school teacher said it was social anxiety. I-I think she was just trying to make me feel better. I know it’s pathetic and stupid, and it’s probably not a real medical condition either. I’m sorry for wasting your time today sir.”
Harry’s tone was earnest, and he was hoping Professor Snape wouldn’t be too angry at him.
The man brought his hand to his forehead, rubbing against it wearily.
“Mr. Potter, please look at me.”
Harry forced his eyes to meet Professor Snape’s.
“Social anxiety is not made up. It is in fact a real psychological condition, and is a common manifestation of generalized anxiety disorder. Your primary school teacher was likely correct, having been able to observe your behavior for much longer than the staff at Hogwarts.”
Nodding along, Harry leaned forward in his chair. He couldn’t believe it was real . His teacher hadn’t been lying to him, after all.
It was real , which meant that other people felt like this too. It wasn’t just Harry being a freak. Relief settled on Harry’s shoulders.
“You are not pathetic, and your anxiety is not stupid. It is something that should be taken seriously.”
Harry had to think about that statement. It wasn’t as though he didn’t believe Professor Snape, it was just a hard concept to wrap his head around.
“As your head of house, I am responsible for your wellbeing and education. This includes any issues you may be experiencing. If you are okay with it, I would like to propose bi-weekly meetings with you about how to manage your anxiety.”
Hm. The idea did kind of appeal to Harry the more he thought about it. Feeling so anxious everytime he was in a crowd got exhausting, and Harry couldn’t even imagine how bad classes would be.
Shyly, Harry set his mug down on the table in front of him.
“I...want to try that, please.”
Professor Snape’s look of approval meant the world. Harry decided he would do whatever he needed to have that directed towards him again.
“Good. We can have a longer meeting tonight with Madam Pomfrey-the medical person at Hogwarts-but until then I can give you a book with some breathing exercises for when you feel panicked.”
Harry felt nervous all over again.
“Why does Madam Pomfrey need to be involved, sir?”
Professor Snape gave him a humorless smile.
“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, anxiety can manifest itself in physical ways. As the nurse, she needs to know that if you are hyperventilating, it is likely from anxiety and not a lung or throat injury.”
Frowning a little, Harry nodded. He understood, but he didn’t love the idea of the nurse knowing.
“In the future, if you feel anxious, please ask a prefect or a friend to come get me. You will not be bothering me. It is my responsibility to take care of you, and it would be remiss of me to fail that task. You have more than enough time to take a short nap before your next class period, if you so choose.”
Harry barely had the thought to nod before sinking back into the soft chair. He really was fatigued-he had barely managed to keep his eyes open throughout that whole conversation.
Something warm and fuzzy was draped over his body, and Harry happily snuggled into it.
This anxiety thing wouldn’t be so bad, not as long as he had Blaise, Draco, Theo, and Professor Snape here to help.
Slytherin was the coolest house, Harry figured.
He allowed himself to drift off to unconsciousness, safer and warmer than he had ever been in his life.