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[HP: Return from Game of Thrones]-Chapter 34: Snape and My Dad?
🕑 Added 2025-09-23 20:56:48 +0000 UTCThe last line of Cao Cao’s poem was, “Duke Zhou spits out his meal, and the world’s hearts turn to him.”
Back then, he compared himself to Duke Zhou, no longer talking about being a general of the western conquest, stuck in a place where he could neither advance nor retreat.
But Harry’s mindset never wavered. He didn’t resort to schemes, didn’t make compromises, and never abandoned his principles to become a king—not just any king, but the king of the entire world, where every inch of land his eyes could see was part of his realm.
All under heaven is the king’s land; all within the shores are the king’s subjects.
He was still young, and with his divine powers, who knew how many years he had left? He wanted to make friends, to find love, but where were the new friends to be found? As for love, he skipped the formalities entirely. If he wanted to sleep with someone, he did, but it was always transactional, driven by mutual benefit.
Ordinary kings were too intimidating to meet anyone’s gaze directly. A godlike king like Harry? Even more so. Returning to his youth brought him a few friends, at least.
“No need to stand on ceremony,” Hagrid said after a bit of small talk, gesturing for everyone to sit.
The small cabin had only one room. Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling, a copper kettle boiled water over a fire basin, and a large bed in the corner was covered with a patchwork quilt made of scraps.
“You’re loaded, Hagrid,” Harry remarked, scanning the room. Many items radiated strong magical energy—high-quality materials, likely sourced from the Forbidden Forest. Were they school property or Hagrid’s personal stash?
“Huh?” Ron and Hermione exchanged puzzled looks. The cabin was ramshackle, a textbook DIY job.
Ron even commented that he rarely saw a place shabbier than his family’s Burrow, but today he had.
“It’s not about the craftsmanship—it’s the materials. Unicorn hair, everywhere! The carpet’s full of it, and even the dog bed’s made of unicorn hair. How many unicorns did you catch?”
“No, no,” Hagrid clarified. “These are gifts—unicorn hair they shed and gave to me.”
“That’s still pretty rich,” Harry said.
Ron let out an envious sigh and plopped down on the carpet. “Not every day you get to sit on unicorn hair.”
“Oh, right, haven’t introduced you,” Harry said to Hagrid. “This is Ron.”
Hagrid was busy pouring boiling water into a large teapot, setting rock cakes onto a platter. He wasn’t one for formalities and didn’t even look up as he said, “Another Weasley brother, eh? I’ve spent half my life trying to keep those twins out of the Forbidden Forest.”
“And this is Hermione, also my friend.”
Hagrid gave a quick nod of greeting, then enthusiastically urged them to eat the rock cakes.
The rock cakes nearly chipped Ron and Hermione’s teeth. Harry took a few bites, found the flavor decent enough, and, noticing their struggles, polished off their portions too.
Barely enough to fill the gaps between his teeth.
Hagrid gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit!”
Then he pulled out an entire basket of rock cakes.
“By the way, Hagrid,” Harry said, choosing his words carefully, “do you know anything about Snape? Does he… have any unusual hobbies?”
It wasn’t exactly a delicate subject, but it wasn’t honorable either. Even in modern Britain, it was fairly common, but wizards tended to be more traditional.
“What’re you getting at?” Hagrid asked bluntly, always one for straight talk.
Harry explained what had happened in Snape’s class, how he seemed to single him out.
Hagrid told Harry not to worry. Snape didn’t like any student—he wasn’t targeting Harry specifically, he targeted everyone. Maybe… maybe Harry just stood out too much, and that’s why Snape was harder on him. Hagrid’s explanation came out haltingly.
“But it feels like he really… hates me,” Harry said, softening his phrasing.
“Nonsense!” Hagrid snapped. “Why would he hate you?”
But Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that Hagrid was avoiding his gaze.
Hagrid definitely knew something.
“So… has Snape ever had someone he liked?” Harry pressed, trying to be direct. Was Snape’s orientation… different?
“Why’re you asking about who he’s liked?” Hagrid paused, then looked shocked. “Oh, Harry, you know about Snape and your parents?”
“??”
“Snape had a thing with my parents?”
Before Hagrid could answer, it clicked for Harry. Of course.
Hagrid had mentioned before that Harry looked just like his dad.
With that in mind, Harry pieced it together: back in the day, Snape and his dad must’ve had something going on.
So, his dad played both sides, married his mom, and left Snape in the dust, huh? Betrayed and heartbroken, Snape turned bitter, stopped using shampoo, and drowned in his own love-hate spiral…
His dad must’ve been a real charmer back in the day, playing the field like that. Harry didn’t get it, but he was floored.
So, Snape’s looks at him… replacement drama?
Stop it, that’s a twisted kind of love.
Harry decided to steer clear of Snape from now on. Sure, his dad might’ve wronged the guy, but there was no way he was paying for his father’s debts.
Even if Snape were a woman, it wouldn’t happen!
“Let’s not talk about that—it’s all old history,” Hagrid said, changing the subject. “How’s your brother Charlie doing, Ron? I always liked him. He’s got a way with animals.”
Harry and Hagrid silently agreed to drop the topic.
Hagrid didn’t want to dig into the previous generation’s secrets… and Harry, even less so.
As Ron told Hagrid about Charlie’s dragon research, Harry noticed a small slip of paper tucked under the teapot cozy—a clipping from the Daily Prophet.
Latest Report on Gringotts Break-In
Investigations into the Gringotts serial heists are ongoing… It’s widely believed to be the work of an unknown dark wizard, possibly a group effort…
Gringotts goblins reiterated today that nothing was stolen from the high-security vaults. The underground vault searched by the intruder had been emptied earlier that day, and losses from the upper vaults were within acceptable limits.
A Gringotts goblin spokesperson stated this afternoon: “What was stored in the high-security vault is none of your concern. Mind your own business.”
Harry recalled Ron mentioning on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts. At the time, Harry figured it was just another crook and didn’t think much of it.
But now, it seemed odd. Why steal nothing? And it was emptied beforehand…
Hagrid had retrieved a package from Gringotts before the break-in.
“Hagrid!” Harry said. “You’re collecting clippings about the Gringotts heist… Did someone steal your money? Was that lower vault yours? …Or Hogwarts’? …I get it—it’s Dumbledore’s.”
Interesting. Someone had the guts to try robbing Dumbledore’s stuff.
For the first time, Harry was intrigued by this fellow thief.
No doubt about it, Hagrid didn’t want to touch this topic either.
He gave Harry an impressed look. “You’re sharp as Dumbledore, Harry. Can’t hide anything from you. Your parents, Dumbledore—you’ve got it all figured out. I’m under orders not to say anything about Dumbledore’s business, so don’t ask me more.”
He handed Harry another rock cake, as if to shut him up.
Harry didn’t press further. He didn’t want Hagrid spilling more about Snape and his dad just to dodge the question. The group smoothly shifted to talking about dragons.
As the trio walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets heavy with rock cakes, Harry didn’t want to dwell on Snape anymore.
Something still felt off, and Hagrid was clearly in the know, but Harry didn’t want to ask.
He gave up thinking about it.
Enough was enough.
If his parents had wronged Snape, he’d let the man’s resentment slide.
