The next morning, Flynn woke up with no complications that he could feel in his body, and after a brief inspection, Pomfrey quickly agreed with his self-assessment, though she did admit that she couldn't give a diagnosis on his mental state after fighting a troll.
Though he was tempted to go to class, just so his classmates would know that a troll attack wouldn't be enough to even inconvenience him, he quickly decided that he didn't really care much about what the brats in his class thought about him. Besides, after going to classes consistently for two months straight after being a habitual truant back in Fredericton, the free pass to skip classes was a tempting one, even if he would be assigned some sort of labour in place of that.
Though he wasn't sure if Pomfrey believed him when he said that he was too emotionally distressed to want to go to classes, she didn't argue against it and told him to report directly to Snape's office to see what tasks he might have for him.
When Flynn knocked on Snape's door, the greasy Professor didn't look particularly happy to see him, but seemed to be expecting him with how quickly he set Flynn on the task of gathering and separating the different materials that Snape's fifth year students would be using on the first class of the day. Flynn was instructed not to use magic to carry them around, seeing as how the use of spells would potentially corrupt the purity of the ingredients, and gave Flynn a pair of gloves to use as some of the ingredients were apparently poisonous to the touch.
With no hesitation, Flynn did as he was told, and divided the ingredients amongst each of the tables, and when a few of the older students started to file into the classroom, Snape sent him to a small storage room where he was told to scrub down the used cauldrons. Though Snape did mention that Flynn could use magic to scrub the cauldrons, as he wasn't necessarily being punished for anything and it was just busywork to keep him occupied, it wasn't like Flynn knew any spells that could help him clean the cauldrons anyways.
Regardless, cleaning wasn't something that Flynn was unused to, with how often he cleaned Jones's gym, so he quickly fell into a trance-like state as he scrubbed down the cauldrons in the storage room.
Despite the volume of cauldrons he had with him in the room, the first period went on for long enough that he was nearly finished by the time the bell rang, and when Snape opened the door, he seemed surprised by the amount of progress that Flynn had made.
Despite any surprise that Snape might have felt, he didn't hesitate in instructing Flynn to prepare another batch of ingredients for the next class. Once again, Flynn did as he was told and when he finished, he was sent into the storage room again to clean up the rest of the cauldrons.
Flynn ended up finishing long before the class ended, and though he didn't have much to do, he busied himself with cleaning up whatever he could without messing with how anything was placed, knowing just how fussy people could be about how they stored things.
When the bell rang to signal the end of class, Snape opened the door once more and raised an eyebrow once again.
Though Flynn waited for Snape to say or do anything, after a few seconds of silence, simply standing in the doorway, Flynn glowered at him.
"Fredericton," Snape said in a carefully neutral voice. "As your head of house, I have been made aware of the... challenging circumstances from which you come from."
Flynn waited for Snape to continue, but when he didn't, Flynn glared at him with a challenging look.
"Yeah?" Flynn said. "You got a problem with that?"
Snape said nothing in response, and Flynn wondered for a moment if he would have to push the Professor out of the way to leave, Snape turned around quickly, his cloak billowing behind him.
"You will be dismissed for lunch," Snape said, with his back still turned. "But before you leave, I will need to decide on what you will be doing for the rest of the afternoon. I won't be needing your assistance for any more of my classes today, but I cannot allow you to roam the castle without purpose while you are my responsibility."
Flynn stared at Snape's back, wondering what he was getting at, but said nothing.
"Tell me. Why do you believe that you were chosen to be a part of the noble house of Slytherin?"
Though Flynn's first thought was that he was placed there because he was "rude" like Lily had said, he doubted that the head of the house would appreciate that reasoning, no matter how accurate it was given the amount of utter assholes he knew in the house.
"I was told that it's because I want power," Flynn said.
"Told by who, exactly?" Snape asked.
"The hat."
"I see," Snape said, staying silent for another long moment before speaking up again.
"There are a few books in the Hogwarts library that I've been meaning to reference for my own purposes," Snape said, sitting down at his desk and pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. "I expect you to retrieve them and deliver them to me after the end of my last class. Do not cause any trouble in the meantime, or you will regret it."
Flynn said nothing as Snape reached out to hand him the piece of parchment. Neatly written out on it in sharp cursive were three book titles: Curses and Countercurses, A Theory of Potions, and A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells.
"The first two books can be found in the common sections of the library, but the last will require access to the restricted section," Snape said, as Flynn grabbed the paper from his hands. "Touching the wrong book in the restricted section may result in you becoming cursed, so I would follow her instructions carefully. A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells is not, in itself, a dangerous book, but the subject's complexity and potential danger is enough that it earned a spot in the restricted sections of the Library."
Though he didn't dismiss Flynn outright, the way that Snape shuffled around the papers at his desk, as if he had spontaneously forgotten about Flynn's existence made it clear that he had nothing more to say. Flynn waited two seconds for Snape to stop him, before he turned around and walked out of the dungeons without another word.
Even after not going down to breakfast that morning and having some of his reserves being knocked out by the troll yesterday, Flynn still had enough food in his pockets for a decent lunch. Chewing on a piece of pulverised chicken, and ignoring the texture in favour of the taste, Flynn walked towards the library for the first time.
When he had a book thrown directly at his head almost immediately after stepping foot into the library, he dodged the flying object and shot a glare towards the old woman that was glaring down at him from her desk. When she pointed at the sign beside her, aggressively tapping the rule of "No eating in the library," Flynn glared at her and shoved the rest of the chicken that he had in his hands into his mouth, and patted his hands against his robes.
Though the librarian continued to glare at him with a look that promised murder, Flynn walked up to the desk and handed her the note that Snape had given him.
She snatched it out of his hands and though it almost felt like she was keeping one eye on him while the other scanned the note, she frowned and practically threw the note back at his face.
"If I see one crumb in my library," the librarian said. "They'll have to send me to azkaban for what I'll do to you."
Though Flynn had no idea what azkaban was, he couldn't help but admire the balls on the old bitch.
After being given a set of instructions on how to find the three books that were likely vague on purpose, Flynn delved deeper into the common area of the library, hoping to find any hint of the books on potions and curses before venturing into the supposedly dangerous section.
He almost cursed out loud when he almost bumped into a bushy-haired student, but held his tongue in hopes that she wouldn't notice him. Unfortunately, his attempts went unrewarded as Hermione's eyes widened in recognition.
"You!" she whispered sharply. "You weren't in the infirmary this morning!"
Flynn glared down at her, but though it was enough to make her flinch, it didn't seem like it was enough to make her turn away.
"Yeah?" Flynn said. "So what?"
Hermione's eyes widened, and she held a finger to her lips as she shushed Flynn.
"You need to be quiet in the library," Hermione said, despite her whispers being nearly louder than Flynn's regular voice. "We'll get in trouble."
Flynn glared down at Hermione, but with no reply in mind, he turned around and started to walk away.
"Wait!" Hermione whispered, grabbing his arm before he could get too far.
Flynn turned around and glared at her, shaking his arm from her grip. Though Hermione winced, and had the decency to look slightly apologetic for grabbing him, she looked up at him.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I just wanted to say thank you. For saving me."
Flynn glared down at her, but found that he couldn't summon any heat behind it.
"Don't expect me to save you again," Flynn said, ignoring the quick shush that earned from Hermione. "Next time, keep your ears open before you get trapped in a washroom with something as loud as that. I have no idea how you didn't notice it."
Hermione winced at that, and a flash of hurt passed through her eyes. Seeing the moment of internal turmoil as an opportunity to leave, Flynn started to walk away, but Hermione spoke again.
"Wait," she whispered, though she didn't grab him this time.
"The fuck do you want now?" Flynn grumbled.
Though Hermione seemed somewhat put off by the language, she still stuck out her hand in what looked like a stiff offer of a handshake.
"I also wanted to apologize for my behaviour when we first met," she said, giving him a stiff smile. "I thought you were making fun of me by giving me a fake name, not that your name isn't lovely, mind you. But I suppose I should've believed you were telling the truth. I was horribly rude to you, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would forgive me for it. I know I got off on the wrong foot with you, and I would be very glad if I could make amends and be your friend."
Flynn stared down at Hermione, glancing between her face and the extended hand. After a few seconds passed without a response, her already stiff smile started to get more and more strained before Flynn frowned.
"I don't do friends," he said, before turned around.
"What?" Hermione said, as he walked away.
Though Hermione remained frozen for a few seconds, as Flynn scanned the bookshelves for the books that Snape sent him for, he heard the patter of hurried steps soon afterwards and glanced back at a confused looking Hermione, who still had her hand up in the air as if she was still expecting a handshake.
She kept her distance from him, staying a few steps away, but didn't seem to know what she even wanted from him, as her eyes darted from Flynn's face, to his hands, to the bookshelves he was scanning through, to her own hands and feet.
With her being otherwise quiet, Flynn ignored her as best as he could as he scanned the shelves, finally landing on A Theory of Potions and pulling it out.
"Oh, A Theory of Potions," Hermione said. "That's an interesting one. It's a lot different from our textbooks, since it doesn't actually focus on teaching recipes, but rather the theory behind the preparation of the ingredients and how they affect the strength and effects of the potions."
Flynn ignored her and walked over to the next general section that the librarian had told him about, scanning the shelves until he found Curses and Countercurses.
"Oh, it's been a while since I've read that one," Hermione said, with her hand still raised and ready for a handshake. "Maybe I should read it again, even if it is difficult to practise a lot of the spells listed without a proper environment. A lot of the curses there only affect live targets, and of course you can't practise countercurses without a partner. It's a shame that Professor Quirrel isn't giving us any opportunities for practical applications of Defense Against the Dark Arts in his class, though I suppose he is a Professor for a reason. He must know what he's doing."
Flynn ignored her as he stuffed the two books under his arm and headed towards the restricted section of the library.
"What are you doing, Flintstone?" Hermione hissed, once she seemed to realise where Flynn was headed. "That's the restricted section. We're not allowed in there unless we get special permission."
Flynn waved the note he had from Snape casually at Hermione, not caring if she could see it properly, as he stepped into the restricted section. Thankfully, Hermione didn't follow him, stopping at the black line that marked the edges of the common area, like she was being blocked by a physical barrier.
It didn't take long for Flynn to find the book he was looking for, given that it was right at the edge of the restricted section. From the ominous feeling and the the distinctly inhuman moaning that he could faintly hear from the dark corridors further into the restricted section, he got the sense that this section of the library was organised in a way that put the more dangerous books further in the back.
Shaking off the ominous feeling that settled over him, Flynn turned back around and exited the restricted section, pointedly avoiding the gaze of a very nervous Hermione who was pacing back and forth in front of the entrance.
"It's almost time for classes to start again, Flintstone," Hermione said, nervously glancing at the large clock that hung in the center of the library. "We have to start going to Charms soon, or we'll be late. Is that A Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells?"
Flynn glared down at Hermione, though she didn't seem to notice as all of her nervous energy seemed to melt away almost instantly as she stared at the book that Flynn was carrying, as if hypnotised by the sight. With the momentary silence, Flynn glanced up at the clock and saw that there were still fifteen minutes before the first afternoon class started, not that it mattered to him.
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"I don't have class," Flynn said, rearranging his books so that the Potions book covered the Spellcrafting book.
The effect was instant, as Hermione seemed to snap out of a trance to frown up at Flynn, though her eyes continued to occasionally dart towards the covered spellcrafting book.
"That's not true," Hermione said. "Slytherins and Gryffindors have Charms together."
"I don't have class today," Flynn said. "I'm excused."
"Why would-" Hermione started to say, before her mouth snapped closed and she looked away suddenly. Her eyes darted back and forth before they eventually settled down.
"I forgot to ask. Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine," Flynn said.
"But you're not well enough to attend class?" Hermione asked.
"I'm taking a day off," Flynn answered bluntly.
Hermione frowned, but glanced at the clock, wincing when she saw that there were fourteen minutes before class started. She bit her lip nervously, and turned to Flynn.
"You're sure you're fine?" Hermione said.
"That's what I said," Flynn said.
"It's just, if you're missing class it must be very serious," Hermione said, though her eyes continued to dart towards the clock.
"I'm fine," Flynn repeated, with an annoyed huff.
"Alright, then," Hermione said, inching hesitantly towards the exit. "But be careful, okay?"
Flynn rolled her eyes and said nothing, but Hermione didn't notice as she had already started to walk as quickly as she could towards the exit, without actually running. Flynn glanced at the clock, which said that there were still fourteen minutes before classes started, while the Charms classroom was only a five minute walk away.
Flynn let out a sigh of relief at the sudden peace and quiet that washed over him at Hermione's absence, but didn't wait long before making sure his books were secured under his arm and headed out of the library.
Though he had to dodge another book to the head from the librarian, before she screamed at him about checking the books out, she didn't give him much trouble after he waved Snape's note at her.
Before she wrote out a note for the books' due dates and handed it to him, she grabbed the nearest book to her and gave it a delicate sniff before pushing it forward.
"If I smell a hint of chicken on any of these books," she said. "I'm murdering you."
Grateful that someone in the castle was finally speaking in a language he could understand, he nodded at the librarian and noted the plaque on her desk that had the name "Irma Pince" on it, before heading out.
Heading over to one of the abandoned classrooms that he'd made into his safehouses, he sat down and started to read.
Though he had Snape's implied permission to read the texts, with how he'd been given the entire afternoon alone with them before he was supposed to deliver them to Snape, Flynn opened up the Theoretical Guide to Crafting Spells, since he had no guarantee that Snape would give him access to a restricted book again.
The text was a complicated one, and even with an entire afternoon to read through it, Flynn wasn't able to get any closer to even begin understanding what went into creating a unique spell of his own making, Before the book even began to talk about spellcrafting, at least a third of the book seemed to be dedicated to making sure that the reader understood what went into spell casting as a whole.
Though even that section was complicated enough that Flynn had trouble following along, the beginning was easier to follow because he'd already been taught something similar in Flitwick's lesson on the knockback jinx, though there were some differences in the lessons.
While Flitwick had told Flynn that an important part of casting a spell was the intent that went behind it, the book seemed to argue that it was the only thing that mattered, and that the wand movements and incantations were auxiliary to the casting of a spell. The book argued that while the wand movements and incantations were still important in refining the effects of a spell into something that was recreatable and precise, rather than a part of the foundation of the spell, which was why wandless and silent casting could even exist in the first place.
The book explained that while there was a difference between a spell that was both wandless and silent, and a bout of accidental magic that might be unleashed by a child in an emotional moment, the difference between the two wasn't as vast as one might think. The only difference was the discipline of the caster.
The wand movements and incantations served to focus the discipline of the caster for the moment that they would cast the spell, by giving them a method to briefly enter an almost trance-like state of mind, where they know exactly what they want to achieve with their otherwise uncontrolled magic, but the method of entering this state is theoretically very flexible.
There were a few "methods" of focusing a spell that were listed in the book, with examples of the wandwork that was used in most of europe and north america, the writing and using of talismans in asia, and the use of chants and ritualistic tattoos in africa, but that was about as far as he was able to read before it got too close to the end of the last class. Not wanting to give Snape a reason to never send him out on another "errand" like this, he made his way towards the dungeons, arriving there a few minutes before the bell signalled the end of the last class of the day.
Flynn stood out of the way as a group of older Ravenclaws and Gryffindors left the class, chattering about what they planned to do with the rest of their evening, sticking close to the walls so he wouldn't be noticed, before walking into the classroom right after the last student walked out.
"Mr. Fredericton," Snape said, without looking up the papers he was organising on his desk. "I trust that you've brought me what I asked for?"
"I got them here," Flynn said, reaching into the sleeves of his robes and pulling the books out.
Snape didn't react immediately, still not bothering to even look at Flynn as he cotninued to read through the papers he had in his hands. Almost a minute passed as Flynn held the books in the air, not seeing a spot on Snape's desk that was free enough of clutter to put the books down on, but eventually Snape looked up at Flynn and immediately his face twisted into a sour frown.
"Ah yes," he said. "The Slytherin first-years share a class with the Gryffindors, don't you? It seems that the existence of some of my students must have slipped my mind in a moment of delusion."
Snape shook his head, while Flynn kept his face neutral so his confusion wouldn't show in the face of Snape's sudden bout of annoyance.
"Put those books away," Snape said, shaking his head. "I had planned to store them here in this classroom, but I am unfortunately reminded that certain students are clumsy in ways that I could never imagine, and I'm not willing to risk angering Madam Pince if I can help it. No, I cannot store them in this classroom."
Flynn almost wanted to roll his eyes with how blatantly obvious Snape was being. Though he felt grateful, having the obvious hint repeated to him made him feel slightly patronised, but he supposed that Snape probably had no reason to assume he wasn't an idiot.
A flash of annoyance ran through him when he suddenly remembered how he had acted a few years back, when Jones had demanded that Flynn should help clean his gym and get rid of some of the stale food in his kitchen in "compensation" for trying to pickpocket him. It had taken a punch to the head and Jones physically dragging him to his kitchen and throwing a plate of old spaghetti at him for him to realise that the old man was trying to do him a favour.
"I assume you won't be storing them in your office either, for some reason," Flynn said.
"No, I shall not," Snape said, with a glare. "And for your cheek, you will be given the task of keeping those books safe until I require them. I will not hear any complaint from you."
Once again, Flynn had to fight the temptation to roll his eyes and the annoyance at the idea that his younger self might not have understood what Snape was saying, even at this point.
"Fine," Flynn said. "I'll keep your stupid books safe."
"You do that," Snape said, looking back down at his papers and casually waving Flynn away. "Now leave me be. I am a very busy man."
Flynn left the dungeons, with his books under his robes, though he didn't dare put them in his large pockets or his bag and risk ruining them with the bits of food that lined his pockets.
Clutching the books against his chest, he avoided the other students wandering the halls as best as he could, while heading towards his next destination.
Though a small part of him wanted to go back to one of the abandoned classrooms that he'd discovered, to continue reading, but with how complicated the text was he doubted that there was no benefit to trying to rush through the book needlessly. Another part of him also entertained the idea of storing the books away in a safe place so he could wash his clothes in the shower like he usually did, but the books weren't particularly heavy enough that he couldn't just carry them around for a bit longer.
Besides, after living for two months with pockets full of spare food, Flynn felt strangely vulnerable without emergency rations on hand. Though he frowned at the realisation at how spoiled he had become after only a few months of not having to scrounge for food on the streets, he still headed towards the Great Hall, not willing to give up a meal for something as stupid as pride.
Though he wasn't particularly hungry, he knew that most of the students preferred to eat dinner later on in the evening, and that the Great Hall would probably be empty enough that he wouldn't have to watch his back while eating.
Not needing any more internal justification, Flynn headed towards the Great Hall, and was just about to sit down at the end of the Slytherin table, when Lily stepped in front of him.
Flynn readied a preemptive sigh, and braced himself for the barrage of conversation that the small girl would inevitably launch at him, but after a moment of silence passed, he realised with some amount of confusion that she was simply staring up at him with her face devoid of the usual smile that was permanently pasted on it.
He said nothing, waiting awkwardly for her to break the silence, but she never did. Lily reached out to grab Flynn's arm, pulling him towards the direction of the Hufflepuff table. He let himself be led along, and sat down beside her.
Though a few plates immediately floated in their direction, they hovered awkwardly at a distance, seemingly unsure of whether they should approach or not in the awkward silence.
Lily stared blankly forward, with her hand still clasped tight around Flynn's arm.
"There was a troll on the loose yesterday," she said. "Professor Quirrel made a big fuss about it."
"Yeah," Flynn replied. "I'm aware."
"They didn't let me go look for you," she said. "Said it would be dangerous."
"It would've been," Flynn said.
"You weren't in the infirmary," she said. "Madam Pomfrey told me you were fine, but you can be a very stupid boy sometimes. I thought that she might not have noticed a difference even if you hit your head and scrambled your brain."
"Oh fuck off," Flynn said.
Lily smiled slightly.
"I was worried about you," she said.
"I'm fine," Flynn grunted. "You really think a troll could beat me?"
"Yes," Lily said, as she leaned sideways and pressed her temple aggressively against his arm. "You aren't nearly as tough as you pretend to be, Flintstone Fredericton."
"Fuck off," Flynn said. "Get off of me."
"Nope," Lily said, turning around to wrap her arms completely around his arm and pressing her face against his shoulder, muffling her words. "This is punishment for making me worry. This arm is mine now."
"I didn't fucking ask you to fucking worry about me," Flynn said. "I don't need your fucking pity."
"Pity?" Lily asked, turning her head just enough that she could glance up at Flynn, though her words were still muffled. "You're not that dumb, Flynn."
"Fuck off," Flynn said.
Lily didn't respond with anything other than a noncommittal hum, and once he quickly realized that she wouldn't let go of him, Flynn let out a grumble and started to grab some plates out of the air and started to shove some food into his pockets.
After a few minutes of silence, Flynn heard a soft snoring coming from beside him and saw that despite her tight grip on his arm, Lily had fallen asleep.
Though Flynn wanted nothing more than to shake her awake and leave, as more students started to file into the Great Hall for dinner, he decided that Lily would end up being annoying if he shook her awake, especially since he expected that she would make some inane argument that she had stayed up all night worrying about him for some stupid reason.
So despite the undeniable fact that he absolutely hated the way that Lily snoozed gently on his arm, and that the general idea that she was stupid enough to trust him enough to fall asleep on him annoyed him on principle, he remained as still as he could in order to not wake her up.
Again, purely because she would be annoying if he did.
As more Hufflepuff students sat down around them, Flynn shot a few glares towards the ones that started cooing in his directions, silently promising a slow and painful death towards each of them, and grimacing when most of them didn't seem to get the message and continued to smile at him.
Flynn eventually stopped trying and glared down at Lily instead, silently vowing that he would pay her back for this humiliation.
She didn't seem to get the message, as she continued to peacefully sleep against his arm.