#slughorn

[loonyloopylupin96]

I think about this every time I write.

[scarfaxeissue]

Albus Dumbledore only hired people that entertained him by watching how they can't deal with teachers or students, this was his trash tv, he lived for drama. Minnie was hired before he became headmaster, this is why she's the only sane one.

[fafodill]

What are your Snip (Snape ship) nos?

Alright.

I'd hate reading:

James -> EW. Ew ew ew. I find this man disgusting and the idea of Severus and him together makes my skin crrrawl. Incredibly toxic but without any fun stuff or character development in store like with Sirius. James had no excuse for being the way he was and that makes him 1000000% worse imo. I ship him with maggots.

Dumbledore -> Incredibly toxic too. He disregarded Severus's safety and well-being so much as a student and then young adult that I can never imagine him as being healthy for him ever. EVER.

Lily -> Sorry, very sorry Snily lovers, I respect you but like the other two, she treated him so poorly and I think he deserves so much better and also, while I think he may have been attracted to her at some point (because teenagers) to me she mostly was his attachment figure and the feeling clearly wasn't mutual. Also I'm not into one-sided love stories (I have my real life for that lolz).

I don't want to read:

Harry -> I don't like the old student/professor dynamic and Harry embodies too many of his triggers. I prefer them in a Severitus setup.

Draco -> Feels straight up like incest to me. He's like his second dad (not shaming people who read incest, it's just not my thing for Sev).

Him with a student in general.

Peter -> I mean I see why this would be a crackship that could work but ew.

Me rattling my brain for things I wouldn't like and didn't really even consider before now:

Slughorn -> Ew.

The Carrows.

DE in general apart from Lucius or Regulus (except maybe an oc? but again this might end badly)(this being said I'd be curious about Barty Crouch Jr.)

Umbridge (tho I would read it diagonally out of curiosity).

His father/mother (but I would totally read it diagonally too).

[ysomtt]

Okay I am convinced...

[fannedandflawless]

Head of House, Pawn on the Board: The Political Burden of Being Snape

Darling, let’s start with the facts—because the facts alone already ache.

Severus Snape joined the Hogwarts staff in 1981. He was twenty-one. Twenty-one. Barely older than the seventh-years he was meant to teach, barely healed from his own battlefield. And what did Dumbledore do? Gave him the dungeons, the potions, the House.

Yes, that house. Slytherin.

⸻

At twenty-one, he wasn’t just given a classroom. He was given a throne of serpents—and not the cushioned kind. The students he was meant to lead? Many of them had seen him in uniform. Some had seen him hexed in corridors. Others knew his name from whispers at the dinner table, muttered over silver cutlery and words like “Half-Blood” or “turncoat”—not because they knew for certain, but because Slytherins always knew how to smell weakness, and the scent of divided loyalty lingered long after the war.

Those students weren’t naive. They knew he wasn’t pure-blood. They knew who his friends were. They knew where his loyalties had once lain—and they wondered, daily, if those ties were truly cut.

And Dumbledore—that visionary, that strategist, that benevolent tyrant—looked at all that and said, "Yes, he’ll do."

⸻

Darling, shall we take a moment to truly marvel at what it meant to hand the reins of the most politically volatile House in Hogwarts to a half-blood Death Eater—barely out of the shadows?

It meant placing a barely-grown man at the helm of bloodlines that had drawn wands against each other the year before.

It meant asking a Death Eater—yes, that one—to play prefect to the precious heirs of Voldemort’s most devoted inner circle.

It meant wrapping Severus in suspicion like it was bespoke tailoring, then setting him loose to waltz daily across a political minefield in soft-soled boots.

He wasn’t chosen because he was respected. He was chosen because no one else wanted the job—or no one else dared to take it. Because Slytherin wasn’t a House. It was a power bloc. A tangle of old money, old magic, and older grudges.

This wasn’t mentorship. It was surveillance—cleverly disguised as atonement.

Redemption? That was never part of the arrangement. What Dumbledore offered wasn’t forgiveness—it was proximity. Keep him close. Keep him useful. Keep him where the leash could be tightened when needed.

And as if the political minefield weren’t enough, one might think there’d be a handover—there wasn’t. And while it’s not confirmed in canon, there’s a strong likelihood Slughorn simply left Severus to fend for himself. The man had been aching to retire to his crystallised pineapple and comfortable obscurity for years. When he left, he didn’t so much pass the torch as drop it mid-corridor with a distracted wave, probably humming.

No curriculum notes. No lesson continuity. No insight into who had been taught what.

Severus didn’t struggle with teaching—please. He could recite antidote theory in his sleep and still have enough brainpower left to correct your stir counter-clockwise. No, what he struggled with was the wreckage. With clearing out years of soft-spoken favouritism, of talent-spotting over structure, of a syllabus curated more by personal whim than pedagogy. He wasn’t inheriting a programme—he was excavating it.

And picking up where Horace left off? That, my tragic thing, was the real test.

⸻

And darling, we’d be fools to think his authority was ever welcomed.

To some, he was too soft—a half-blood apologist playing at discipline. To others, too severe—a traitor desperate to please his new master.

He couldn’t smile. He couldn’t falter. He couldn’t afford a single mistake.

So he learned to glare instead. He learned to intimidate. He learned to slice words like scalpels and build silence into a fortress.

That wasn’t a natural talent. That was survival.

⸻

The punchline, of course?

He did it well.

He survived. He commanded. He protected his House like a shield with no handle—never built to be held, but he held it anyway.

He was twenty-one. And nobody flinched handing him the knives.

⸻

Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr Snape. The job description reads: Die standing. Preferably in silence.

[simon-snowing]

harry asking buckbeak does he miss sirius too,, my boy, my most precious boy..... im gonna f kill myself

[birgerjones]

Avada Kedavra! (Harry Potter and the Two Worlds)

The Wizarding World has been exposed and forced to reunite with the Muggles. Peaceful coexistence failed, causing the UK government to outlaw magic while enacting a nationwide persecution of wizards and witches.

As the British Army invades Hogwarts, Harry and Luna desperately try to reach Dumbledore's grave for the Elder Wand, the last hope of the wizarding world.

Click here for the complete story: "Harry Potter and the Two Worlds, " by Birger, ao3

November 2019

The first helicopter descended into the Hogwarts courtyard, and a squadron of soldiers poured out, unprepared for what was awaiting them in the darkness. From the ravine beyond the gates, pale hands clawed their way upward. One by one, Inferi, reanimated corpses of fallen Death Eaters, dragged themselves into the light.

"Contact front! CONTACT FRONT!" a soldier shouted.

Gunfire erupted across the courtyard, but the bullets tore through flesh that no longer bled. Hundreds of undead beings swarmed the soldiers, tearing their faces apart. One soldier was mauled by the corpse of Bellatrix Lestrange.

More helicopters roared overhead, dropping reinforcements onto the school grounds. One man knelt, hefting a bazooka onto his shoulder.

"Target front gate!"

The missile streaked across the courtyard and exploded against the castle gates, shattering the protective runes in a blast of red and gold. The shockwave blew apart statues and sent flaming debris into the night sky.

Through the wreckage, the soldiers advanced only to be met by an ancient fury. From the shadows of the courtyard emerged living armours and stone gargoyles, awakened by the castle's defenders. Their eyes glowed like embers as they charged.

"What is this place?" a soldier gasped before firing wildly as a gargoyle leapt from the parapet.

Iron fists shattered rifles. Claws tore through the soldiers' protective gear as if it were paper. Living medieval armour impaled soldiers with spears and swords. Still, the soldiers kept moving forward, fingers ready on the triggers. One soldier desperately threw a grenade into the hallway, which caused several statues to explode into pieces.

Inside the castle, the Room of Requirement shook as gunfire and explosions echoed through the stone. Students clutched one another in panic and terror. The Potter children, James, Albus, and Lily, huddled close to Hugo, Rose, and Scorpius.

Even Dudley, sitting among them, looked white as a ghost. "Stay down," he said hoarsely. "Whatever happens, stay quiet. Don't draw attention."

Lily couldn't stop crying. "They're coming for us, Uncle Dudley, they're coming—"

He held her tighter, trying to calm her down, though his heart hammered in fear.

In the Great Hall, the teachers stood shoulder to shoulder before the enchanted windows. McGonagall, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Sprout, Flitwick, Slughorn, Sinistra, and the others gathered as the ground trembled beneath their feet.

"Whatever happens, we must protect the children, " McGonagall shouted.

A thunderous boom shook the hall, and the great doors exploded inward. Smoke grenades rolled across the floor, filling the room with choking grey clouds. The teachers coughed and covered their faces as armed soldiers poured through the breach.

"DOWN! EVERYONE DOWN!" shouted a soldier.

Spells flashed: Stupefy, Expelliarmus, Protego!

Unfortunately, most spells bounced off the soldiers' protective gear. Bullets tore through shield charms, causing several teachers to fall in agony before death claimed them.

Hagrid roared as he charged forward like a bull. He swung a broken bench like a club, sending soldiers flying, but a hail of gunfire stopped him. He staggered back, covered in blood and bullet wounds, and fell with a thunderous crash.

"HAGRID!" McGonagall screamed.

Before she could reach him, the soldiers surrounded her. One yanked the wand from her hand, and another forced her to her knees.

One by one, all her friends and colleagues fell. Slughorn was shot in his right shoulder as he tried to protect a student. Sinistra was shot in the chest and fell to the floor, bleeding. Ginny struggled furiously as her hands were wrenched behind her back. Ron shouted and kept fighting until a rifle struck his face. Within minutes, the defenders of Hogwarts, its teachers, heroes, and leaders were on their knees, handcuffed and surrounded.

McGonagall looked up. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, but she refused to give up.

"You can destroy the walls," she said, trying to remain defiant, "but you will never kill Hogwarts' heart."

The soldier didn't answer. He raised his weapon and signalled to move the prisoners.

...

The air around Hogwarts was thick with smoke. Beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry and Luna moved like shadows through a world gone mad.

All around them, chaos reigned. In the distance, centaurs fired their arrows toward Muggle soldiers, who answered with machine gun fire. A thestral shrieked overhead and collapsed to the ground as bullets tore through its wings. From the forest edge, a horde of acromantula swarmed over armoured trucks. Harry gasped as he recognised the old Ford Anglia speeding across the field, ramming soldiers off their feet.

Every step toward the lake felt like walking through ghosts. Neither Harry nor Luna was certain they could win this battle. Harry whispered, almost to himself: "This isn't how it was supposed to be..."

Luna looked at him. "It was never supposed to be anything," she said softly. "It simply is."

They slipped past the carnage. The Cloak shimmered faintly as bullets whizzed past them. Finally, they reached the shores of the Black Lake.

At the far edge of the Black Lake stood Dumbledore's white tomb, untouched by time or war. Harry fell to his knees beside it. His fingers traced the inscription: "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

"Forgive me, Professor. "

With a whispered charm, he opened the tomb. The white stone split down the middle with a deep groan, revealing the Elder Wand in Dumbledore's pale hands. Harry took it, and power coursed through him like fire and thunder. The air itself seemed to bow.

Before he could speak, Luna gasped. Her eyes flicked to the treeline. One Muggle sniper pointed his weapon at her.

"Harry—!"

Before Harry could react, the sniper pulled the trigger, and a gunshot was heard. Luna cried out and fell as blood spilled across her robes. The bullet had torn through her hip.

Harry froze. The world blurred. He turned toward the soldiers approaching him with their weapons raised.

Something inside him snapped. The Elder Wand burned in his grip, as though alive. He raised it instinctively. Fear, rage, and grief spun in his mind. The words escaped him before he even realised what he was saying.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The night erupted in green light. Five soldiers fell instantly on the ground, lifeless with faces frozen in shock. Harry stood there, staring at what he had done. The wand felt heavier now. He dropped to Luna's side.

Her breath came in ragged gasps. "You... you killed," she whispered.

"I did," Harry responded. "And I'll do it again if I have to. I won't lose anyone else."

He pressed the Elder Wand to her wound and whispered a healing spell. A soft golden light wrapped around her hip, sealing the bleeding.

"You'll live, but you can't follow me anymore," he said, pulling the Invisibility Cloak over her trembling body.

"Stay hidden. No one can find you. I'll come back for you. I'll promise. "

Then, with one last look at Dumbledore's grave, Harry stood up. He turned the Elder Wand toward himself and whispered the incantation. His body shimmered and vanished from sight. Then he moved toward the burning castle, determined to save his family and his first true home.

[agonizingsviania]

Tom Riddle, the prefect

“When I first meet young Mr Riddle, he was a quiet, obedient, brilliant boy, commited to becoming first A rate wizard. If the monster existed it was very deep within‘‘ - Slughorn

There is no if. The monster, his monster, caused his actions. He wanted to be seen as what Slughorn described him in order to gain more control. More knowledge. To feed his monster. To feed himself. To reach the extent of his influence he had later on, he had perform the image first.

The monster was right behind his prefect's mask.