Archive of Our Own ^beta

Severus had begun to notice a few changes as he grew more acclimated with being the head of Slytherin. Between his duties as a normal professor, and managing a house notorious for getting into the wrong sorts of trouble his hands were more than full. That did not even begin to include the additional tasks he found himself being assigned to do as resident potions master of Hogwarts. From brewing additional stocks of various healing potions for Madame Pomfrey to other draughts requested by the rest of the faculty. It was safe to say Severus had a heavy burden to bear.

Despite the fact he had dozens upon dozens of duties the professor had found time to help his den of snakes. It was rather typical for each head of their respective houses to have a form of office hours,where students could come to the heads’ office and get help from a trusted adult. It seemed common though that these office hours were only offered for the other three houses two to three times a week. Severus ,however, was different. No one outside of Slytherin would believe that the dungeon bat had office hours offered daily. Though the time period was smaller, and chances were the potions master was handling other duties at the same time, he was still there.

Severus would never have assumed that most of the students within his house saw his office as times of refuge, or truly anything in a positive light. The brooding professor’s office was nestled deep within the dungeons adjacent to his potions classroom. The chill of such an icy atmosphere biting and snippy, just like the man himself.

His office was furnished, though decorated was a strong word to put it. The room itself was cold lined with countless amounts of tomes filling the bookshelves of potions and dark arts. His desk was a rich mahogany, possibly gifted by the Malfoy’s, and had stacks of parchment from students and other sources alike. A few stray empty vials layed scattered across the desk though the clutter was minimal. Severus’ chair was not surprisingly a dark green matching the occasional spots of color in the room. Students were always on the opposite in a surprisingly comfortable seat matching the green of Slytherin.

Often first years would hear many of the whispers surrounding the poor reputation the snakes had within the school, while warranted to a degree, it did put off many of the half-blood and muggle born first years when being brought upon the Slytherin common room. Severus was painfully aware of the reputation, and subtly as every good snake would try and diffuse the anxieties of the first years. He would never admit to such a thing- and would always argue with McGonagall his actions were not with care, rather with tact. Something about Slytherin unity, or whatever excuse he fell back upon. He never really knew how the transfiguration professor knew about his antics, but he would bet his best cauldron Albus had something to do with it.

Despite these rumors, first year Slytherins would find that to their surprise the notorious professor was fair (though only to snakes) in his class, and would help direct students to upper years who could help them within his own class or other subjects.

As Severus grew more used to his role as Head of Slytherin house, the snakes too had begun to warm up to the snarky professor. The differences, while subtle, were beginning to become noticeable by Severus. He began to notice an uptick of students frequenting his office hours, to an overall improvement to the house in general. From grades, to points being awarded (those at least not given by himself).

However, the small changes took a much drastic turn one night as Severus finished helping a fourth year with a potions essay. The potions master was left rather stunned when an expensive looking gift was pressed into his hands before the young snake scampered off. Even if he was less daunting with time, none of the Slytherins knew how Snape would react to being given a gift.

Severus stared for a moment at the dark green wrapping of the box for a moment his mind reeling from one, a student seeing him worthy of a gift out of the blue, and two, them running away after handing it to him. The behavior hardly seemed fitting for a young pureblood such as they were. His calloused hands hesitantly undid the string holding the wrapping paper together as he sat back down at his desk. Inside lay a few very rich looking vials. Reading the note, the student explained that the vials were very high quality dragon flamed tempered glass, enchanted to never break. Severus already had a set, but the gesture itself had the man reeling.

Severus was not a man who received many meaningful gifts. Lily before their fallout years ago, would always manage to find something that he found thoughtful. He still kept the scarf she bought to the present day, safely tucked away in a drawer. The Malfoy’s would often give him things every Yule, but they were far too expensive and frivolous for his taste. So it was safe to say he did not understand why such a small gesture was enough to have sent him in some sort of shock.

The first gift was certainly not the last and it slowly seemed to form a trend from some of the snakes. The presents were sporadically given and not all by the purebloods of the house but from a different array of ages and blood status’s. Safe enough to rule out any political or darker… reasons for the gifts. As the trend increased Severus’ confusion only rose.

At first, he initially was confused. He didn’t comprehend why he could be worthy of these rather expensive gifts his students were gifting him. He wasn’t friendly like Sprout, or impressive like Flitwick. He simply was the worst teacher in his mind. He enjoyed students cowering and not daring to step a toe out of line. So what could it be that his little snakes enjoyed about him?

The day started off like no other, Severus going through his routine of classes that he had now grown used to. Wake up at a god awful hour to begin brewing potions necessary for the school to even function (not even a thanks to that besides Madame Pomfrey), then going over the lessons for the day before breakfast. He made it a point to not show up to the Great Hall knowing he was never a pleasant man in the morning, though one could argue- when was he ever?

One gift was handed, or really thrown, onto his desk after he completed his first class of the day. Then a few others during his 3rd year classes. The gifts began to form a little pile on Severus’ desk by his last classes of the day with his more advanced sessions. He felt rather overwhelmed when most of the students in his NEWT classes handed him a gift.

Only when reading the little notes attached to some of the gifts did the realization hit him. That day was Father’s Day.

And that realization left the professor reeling.