The Covenant's Blood

Sparks

Disappointing your father? You're joking, right?"

Harry stands ashamed, head down, eyes never leaving his shoes. They're expensive, James bought them for his tenth birthday, a little irresponsible with the Potter fortune. Euphemia and Fleamont scolded him a little, until they saw Harry wearing them and drenched him in compliments. Just like his father, his grand-parents love him and cherish him greatly. And he thanks them by being a Slytherin.

"But I'm a Slytherin." He cries a little, furious.

"Kid." Remus calls out, head peeking out from behind the counter. He's been working for a few hours already, earlier than everyone else, switching between his librarian job and writing lines for his books. "You could never disappoint your father. He loves you too much for that to ever happen."

"But he hates Slytherins."

"He doesn't hate Slytherins." Remus sighs, pinching his lips together, clearly missing his pack of cigarettes. "And even if he did, he loves you more. Hatred is an exaggerated word. What your father feels toward Slytherins is petty, it's trivial. It's an old rivalry. It doesn't matter anymore."

"But he always told me he hoped I'd be a seeker in the quidditch team."

"And?" Remus tilts his head, confused. "You can be a seeker for Slytherin."

"That's- no it's a betrayal! I've always wanted to play for the Gryffindor team!"

"Oh my god." Remus pinches his nose. It looks like he's really trying his hardest to not give up on what he thinks is plainly, completely stupid. Obviously it matters to Harry, but Remus always thought the whole house debate was silly, and getting this worked up over it isn't worth it. "Harry, houses are just a way to make you socialize. You can still befriend Gryffindor, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuff... It's not supposed to be a barrier, it's just a little help."

Though Remus strongly believes it is, in fact, a barrier, it's not what Harry wants to hear.

"Does befriending Slytherins sound so bad?"

"I had a fight." Harry finally admits, playing with his fingers. "A blonde boy. Draco Malfoy. He was... He was being mean to Ron. So I called him out, and spoke about his family being death eaters. I made it clear I don't like people like him and... Eighty percent of Slytherin are people like him."

"Then befriend the twenty percent." Remus suggests, like it's the simplest thing ever. "Did no one really talk to you?"

"Well, there's Tracey." He reminds himself, smiling a little. "A nice girl. She doesn't act a lot like a Slytherin. She was nice to me."

"Then that's good. Harry, you don't need a thousand friends. Look at your father. He was friends with everyone in school back then. Truly, we couldn't walk to a class without him stopping to say hi to a dozen people. But today, his closest friends, the people he trusts and loves, there's not many of them. And you still have Ron and Hermione."

He thinks about yesterday, in the dorms, how awkward it was, to fall asleep to the sounds of a conversation he was very much excluded from. From what he had gathered, the three of them are childhood friends. Close, very close childhood friends. All of their parents were friends, and they grew up joined at the hip, along with three other girls; Pansy, Daphne and Astoria, the last two being sisters. Then he felt like a voyeur, and forced himself to stop listening and fall asleep.