Chapter 213: The Annoying Snape
Family and justice were both important, but everyone had their own way of weighing them.
For Sirius Black, who had long cut ties with his family, blood meant little. After seeing what the Black family had become, James Potter was worth far more to him than any of them. His loyalty was never to justice alone, but to James and their bond.
To Sirius, friendship and justice were inseparable—because James was the reason he chose the path he did.
But for Harry and the others, family was not so easily set aside.
During the brief silence that followed their talk of family and betrayal, Sirius shifted the subject—explaining why he despised Slytherins and what kind of man Peter Pettigrew had been.
Harry, however, wasn't convinced. He skimmed through the Prophet's article, his brow furrowing.
"Is what Rita Skeeter wrote about Professor Snape true?" Harry asked at last. "Did you really bully him all the time? But… wasn't he my mother's friend?"
Sirius let out a low laugh, though it held no humor. "Me? Honestly, I did it more for James."
"Because Snape was close to your mum, and because he was a Slytherin. Worse, he spent his time with a gang of foul Slytherins who all became Death Eaters later. Snape included. Though, according to Dumbledore, he ended up working as a spy."
"James fell for Lily at first sight. And Lily… well, she stayed friends with Snape even after his mates toyed with dark magic. James hated that. He was afraid Lily would get dragged down with him." Sirius gave a small shrug. "So James's pranks got worse."
Harry blinked at him. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips.
"Don't look at me like that," Sirius said quickly. "Snape wasn't a helpless victim. He fought back. It took all four of us to handle him sometimes—he already knew a lot of dark spells."
"Oh, so he was just defending himself, then?" Harry shot back coldly.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "It seems Lupin still hasn't curbed that sharp tongue of yours."
"This has nothing to do with Lupin," Sirius said heavily. "We were arrogant fools back then." He paused, then admitted, "Harry… we were children. By fifth year, we stopped. Well… mostly stopped."
Harry's skeptical look made Sirius wince. He exhaled and forced himself to continue. "Fine. Truth is—after Snape and Lily fell out, James realized he needed to change. To look better in her eyes."
"Before that, though—James and I were the best at everything. Top of our year, brilliant at Quidditch, top marks when we applied ourselves. We just… lacked restraint. James especially."
"But Lily never cared about that," Sirius added bitterly. "She hated us for how we acted—while clinging to Snape, a bitter boy who obsessed over dark magic. Funny thing? James could do everything Snape could, and more—Quidditch star, talented at charms, popular with everyone. That drove Snape mad."
"That's why James targeted him so much."
Harry's face fell. "But she hated James! She hated him! How could she marry him after all that?"
"Didn't I tell you? James grew up. By sixth year, he changed. He stopped hexing people for fun. He even ignored Snape's jabs when Lily was watching. By seventh year, Lily finally agreed to give him a chance."
Harry frowned. "So… James really did stop?"
Sirius nodded. "Yes. At least where your mother could see. That was what won her over."
"We may have judged Snape too harshly," Sirius admitted. "After all, he worked for Dumbledore. But don't mistake me—he was nasty. He mocked James first, taunted Gryffindors, and even sneered, 'If you'd rather have brawn than brains…'" Sirius's face tightened at the memory.
Harry glanced at Professor McGonagall.
She gave a small, reluctant nod. "It's true. James Potter did change after fifth year. Like night and day—Fred and George turning into Percy. I could even show you his discipline record."
That seemed to convince Harry.
Sirius suddenly straightened. "Harry, before I go… I need to ask something." His voice trembled with rare anxiety. "I know you don't approve of everything I did. I've made more mistakes today alone than I can count. But still… I need to ask."
Harry tilted his head. "Ask what?"
"If you'd like… to live with me," Sirius said, the words rushing out. "If you'd rather stay with your aunt and uncle, I'll respect it. But—think about it. If you want… a different home—"
Harry's breath caught. "You mean—live with you?"
Sirius froze. "I understand. If that's too much, I won't—"
"You're daft!" Harry's voice cracked, startling everyone. "Of course I want to! Do you have a house? When can I move in?"
Sirius's face broke into the widest smile Harry had ever seen. He blinked rapidly, but his voice was thick with emotion. "I inherited the Black estate. You'll have a prince's life, Harry. I'll go tell Dumbledore right now!"
His footsteps echoed as he rushed off, laughter and sobs mingling until they faded into silence.
Harry stood frozen, hardly believing what just happened.
"Blimey," Ron whispered, then suddenly brightened. "Wait—I finally remembered where that phrase came from! Rita Skeeter wrote that Sirius Black's childhood 'should have been fit for a prince.'"
Harry shook his head with a laugh. "Ron, your memory's useless for homework but brilliant for gossip."
"If you used half that effort on studying, your grades wouldn't give your mum grey hair," Draco drawled, smirking. He pinched his nose in an imitation of Ron: "'Mum, Dad, I only failed Potions because You-Know-Who distracted me! And Harry and I had to stop him stealing the Philosopher's Stone!'"
Ron turned scarlet. "I don't sound like that!"
Draco just smirked wider.
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