"Mr. Potter, if you would be so kind as to please pay attention, as you see fit?"
Snape sneered down at the young man, who's previously glazed-over look morphed into one of surprise, then instant dislike.
Harry, annoyed, retorted with the first thing that came to mind. "I'm not sure I see such as fit, at the moment," he said flippantly.
Snape's eyes glittered with disbelief. "I will not tolerate such disrespect in my classroom," he spat.
"Well, then, shall we take this outside?"
The class gasped. No one dared say such things to any professor, let alone Professor Snape, the devil incarnate.
"Harry? What are you doing?" The frantic whisper came from Hermione, who's face was pale with shock.
"Ms. Granger, will you be adding your name to the list of points taken from Gryffindor, and for detention?" Snape looked livid, though he kept his tone even.
Harry crossed his arms in seeming boredom. "Oh, don't go taking your anger out on Hermione-"
"Sir," Snape seethed, trying to regain a bit of the respect he had lost from Potter.
"No, just Harry will do. I don't need all that pishposh 'sir' stuff. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted..."
Snape was now standing there, open-mouthed, affronted at this brash display of rebellion.
"You don't need to go taking your anger out on every single Gryffindor. It's no secret that you Slytherins hate Gryffindors, but isn't that rather discriminatory?" He knew he was signing his death warrant, but at the moment, Harry didn't care. He was sick of Snape treating him worse than something that could be found on the streets, usually stuck to someone's shoe. The fact that Snape had helped save his life meant nothing to him; if anything, it was a debt repaid, for his father having saved Snape's life when the two were in Hogwarts together.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor, at this display of such vile insolence, Mr. Potter..."
"Go on, see if I care? Why not take off more, like you so would like to do. And add a few months of detention? You know you want to. Biased son-of-a-"
"One hundred and fifty points from Gryffindor!"
Again, collective gasps. "Harry, quit it!" Hermione pleaded. Harry shot a side glance at her, and huffed.
"That's all?"
"And three months of detention."
"Yawn, Professor."
"Two hundred points."
Harry smirked, but kept his mouth shut. He had sufficiently rattled Snape's cage. The points didn't matter to him. Yes, he would be the most hated person for a while, but he'd go about earning the points back. No, he was satisfied with knowing that he was the only student brave enough to get into a verbal duel with Snape.
And, judging by the quick look around the classroom, he had impressed a good number of students, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike. He caught Draco's eye, and fought back another smirk. The blonde was stunned to the point of gaping, but there was amusement there too. Knowing that he would hear about it later, from both the Slytherin and his two friends beside him (Ron not having said a word the entire time, just sitting there frozen), Harry simply looked up at Snape, who was irate. Then, knowing it would just set the Professor off even more, Harry smiled sweetly. I don't care, the smile said clearly.
Snape looked ready to tear out Harry's throat, but he kept a grip, and twirled away with a flurry of black robes. The man looked up at the clock, then shot a nasty glare towards Harry, before saying through gritted teeth, "Write an essay describing the pros and cons of using a Dreamless Sleep Potion, due tomorrow. No shorter than 20 inches long. Class dismissed."
The class groaned at the outrageous homework assignment, and a few more glares were added to Snape's. But Harry only lifted his chin higher, and gathered his supplies, before leaving the class, carrying himself proudly.
•••
Later that evening, as Harry slipped into the Gryffindor tower to put away his schoolbooks, and prepare for his detention with Snape, he was cornered by several of the Gryffindors, among whom were Hermione and Ron. He had managed to avoid them all day, but now, it seemed his luck had given out.
"What the bloody hell were you doing?" Ron roared. Harry gave him a cool glance.
"Giving Snape what for, that's what," he said, annoyed.
"Yeah, but, there are subtler ways than that! Two hundred points, Harry! Two hundred!"
Seamus spoke up. "I say it was worth it, seeing the look on Snape's face. Priceless! I'd do it myself, if I had the courage! Cheers, Harry!"
Hermione was disapproving, as usual. "Harry, Snape or not, he's a Professor! And as such, you should treat him with the respect he deserves!"
"But he doesn't deserve it."
"He's still a Professor! He's supposed to be treated with respect!"
Harry smirked. "But you admit that he doesn't deserve it?"
Hermione paused, open-mouthed, at Harry's remark. "That...that was..." she stammered.
"Very Slytherin of you," Seamus sniggered.
"Uncalled-for and out of line," Hermione snapped, with a glare towards Seamus.
Harry just crossed his arms. "I don't care," he said dismissively. Hermione huffed, and had opened her mouth to say more, when Harry rolled his eyes. "And I don't want to hear it. I've had enough crap from Snape, alright? Can you blame a guy for getting fed up?"
With that, he turned on his heel, and headed for the portrait, ignoring Hermione's protests. Thankfully, once the portrait closed, there was blessed silence. Away from the scrutiny of his Housemates, Harry was able to let down the carefree mask. Now, he just wandered along, completely alone. Like he felt he was.
Harry sighed. He hated the look of hurt on Hermione's face, as he snapped at her. He hated the disbelieving look on Ron's face, as if he couldn't believe that Harry was capable of such hurtful things. But he couldn't help it. This wasn't how he normally was. He normally was the loyal, reckless Gryffindor. That had all been a farce, and now, they were seeing the real Harry. The real, hurting, and hurtful Harry.
All his life, he'd been treated as a freak, in good ways and bad. He was always the outsider, no matter how often Ron or Hermione tried to convince him otherwise. So, he'd adapted to the expectations of the Wizarding World, seeking approval. But he'd never had approval from everyone. And he was tired of trying.
His near-suicide had opened his eyes, and allowed him to see that they were all just using him. Except for Draco, no one really cared enough to see the hurting boy underneath the hero. They were just pushing him to further heights. Just pushing him to save their pathetic arses. And he was tired of it. He wanted to be somebody, without anybody forcing him to take that particular path. He wanted to be himself, not some hero or some freak.
If they didn't like it, well, he knew where they could shove their opinions.
"Potter!"
Harry stopped, his surroundings now coming to him with painful clarity. He was in the Slytherin dungeons, near Snape's room. And he was alone. In a corridor where Slytherins often patrolled.
He turned, seeing Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, Nott, and Parkinson approaching. Their expressions were unreadable, as they stopped in front of him. A good sign was the fact that none of them had their wands out and pointing at him. A bad sign was their crossed arms, and firm stances.
Unsure of how to react, Harry merely asked, "What?"
Zabini glanced at the others, and stepped forward. "You are either the bravest student in Hogwarts, or a raving-mad idiot," he stated. Harry frowned.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, you heard me. Crossing Snape like that is something not even the Slytherins dare to do. You got guts, Potter, I'll give you that."
Harry raised an eyebrow now. "Please. It's not like I did something heroic. I just did what I know everybody else has been dying to do for the past how many years?"
Nott smirked, as he said, "And congrats for doing so, Potter. I don't like you, but I like the spirit. Very...Slytherin, of you."
Harry's lips twitched at the second mention of his Slytherin-like qualities. "You have no idea how Slytherin I can be," he said with the air of one who has a secret. And he did, at that. No one else knew how the Sorting Hat had wanted to place him in Slytherin. Only he and the Sorting Hat did.
Zabini spoke up again. "Well, Gryffindor or not, you impressed us all today, Potter. And suffice to say, you've earned our respect." A small smile played on his lips, as he held out a hand. "Draco seems to think that you deserve our trust and respect. You've earned one of those, why not try for the other? For Draco's sake, and based on the fact that you are the only person to have stood up against Snape and survived, truce?"
Harry eyed Zabini's hand warily. "Truce," he agreed, gingerly taking the offered hand. Yes, truce it would be, but he would never fully trust the Slytherins. Not until they had earned it. For all he knew, this was just another trap.
One by one, the other Slytherins shook his hand as well. Finally, they stood facing each other again, with a new respect for the other in their eyes. "See you later, Potter," Nott said with a friendly smirk.
"It's Harry, actually," Harry grinned. The Slytherins rolled their eyes, but kept smiles on their faces, as they parted ways.
It was no more than a few minutes when Harry was standing in front of the dreaded Potions' door. He took a deep breath, thought once about how stupid it had been to anger the baleful Professor, thought about the look on Snape's face, smiled, then pushed open the door, not bothering to knock.
"You will be cleaning all the cauldrons today, without magic. Give me your wand." The slithery voice rang out, disdain and hatred heavy in its tone. Harry raised an eyebrow, but complied. As the door shut behind him, he fought back a smirk.
Well, here we go.