The Rise of a Snape

Controlled Chaos

 Harry was in a contemplative state when he walked toward the carriages, instinctively following the rest of the 6th years.

He was slowed by the chattering herds of excited Hogwarts students. He hadn't bothered to ask whether he was going on the boats with the first years, or in the carriages with the other 6th years, for he was to be sorted with the first years anyhow, but he didn't let this particular problem get to him. He had other things on his mind.

And for the first time in his life, the only person Harry really truly wanted to speak with was Severus Snape. A rational, cold, calculating voice that told him exactly how things were.

Harry zoomed through the possibilities in his mind:

How had she known? It is impossible, with the amount of security measures Remus, Severus, and Dumbledore had taken to ensure that his identity was kept a complete secret.

Had he slipped up somewhere? Or was it some unknown branch of magic she was using?

The only interaction with Luna he had had when he had been Harry, the boy-who-lived, star quidditch player, a Gryffindor who's dad was James Potter. Had she known all along?

"Even the ones closest might betray your trust." Severus had lectured, and Remus' sad and wistful eyes whenever he stared at him proved that particular point.

And yet, Luna, with her whimsical sayings and untamed quality emitted such a trusting aura, such innocence. But no- Harry thought- she isn't innocent or naive, that's just how we see her-- Her and her nargles and blibbering humdingers.

We're the ones that don't understand.

Luna, Harry realized, was the perfect enigma. She is everything Severus had told Harry to be in all of his drills and lessons over the summer. Nobody took her ramblings seriously, nobody knew where her loyalties lie. While she had friends and was part of the DA, nobody knew her very well, very seriously.

In fact, nobody takes her seriously at all, Harry thought. He could relate to that one-- with the whole 'Heir of Slytherin' incident, hearing voices, seeing the thestrals. 

Luna would definitely be somebody to watch, Harry decided. But to avoid? He isn't sure.

"Firs' years! Firs' years!" a loud bellow broke through the chattering crowd and through Harry's pondering thoughts.

Harry, with a affectionate grin, turned to see Hagrid, in his brown leather coat, beetle black eyes merry. Harry hadn't realized just how much Hagrid enjoyed his job, but as the first years streamed around him like lost puppies, Hagrid seemed to transform into a doting father seeing off his kids.

"Over here! FIRS' YEARS!"

Harry hesitated, before approaching him. Just act like the lost, confused transfer student you are, Harry thought sardonically, got that act down pretty good.

"Excuse me sir," he yelled up at Hagrid, who was still waving vigorously at a couple stragglers in the distance (and creating quite a lot of wind with that wave)

"Yes?" Hagrid boomed, finally looking down at him with curiosity. It was definitely strange to see Hagrid greet him with anything but an ear splitting smile.