You know a dream is like a river, ever changing as it flows.
And a dreamer's just a vessel that must follow where it goes.
-Garth Brooks
"Ah, Harry. How good of you to join me. Have a seat." The headmaster was beaming, as always. Harry felt a pang of annoyance as he took his usual seat across from Dumbledore and tacked on his usual smile. He opened his mouth, but Dumbledore silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Today is your final day of classes, Harry."
At this, Harry couldn't contain a genuine smile. The words bubbled over: "I know. I have my NEWT potions exam next period and then I'm done. I've gotten offers from several Quidditch teams. I was holding out for Britain, but I might just sign with the Chudley Cannons. You know, to make Ron happy." He stopped talking abruptly when he saw the look on the headmaster's face. He was smiling, but it was a forced kind of smile, and the twinkle in his eyes seemed to have gone out. Harry wasn't sure what, exactly, one could possibly find negative about the things he had just said. "Professor?"
"While today may be your final day of classes, I am reluctant to declare it your last day at Hogwarts." The expression on Dumbledore's face was pained. "I do not think it wise for you to give up the protection of the castle so readily. Not while Voldemort is still alive." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore silenced him with another wave of his hand. "I do not wish to argue with you on this point, nor will I. You can make the best of the situation, or the worst. The choice is yours."
"Professor..." Harry began. Really, what was the point? He dropped his head, defeated. "Where will I be sleeping? Am I going to be alone in Gryffindor—"
"Ah, Harry, do you really think me that cruel? The proper arrangements will be made. A room in one of the high towers, perhaps? Or if you prefer, in the dungeons?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. He was still feeling angry about the whole situation. "Why would I want to sleep in the dungeons?"
Dumbledore merely smiled. "I have known some people who prefer it down there."
Harry snorted. "Snape you mean." The headmaster nodded.
Greasy git, Harry thought, trying to find someway to make this Snape's fault. Life was easier when everything was Snape's fault. He had helped the Death Eater's escape Hogwarts at the end of last year, wounding Ginny and several other students in the process. Even though Harry had decided that he and Ginny were better off as friends, he was as protective of her as an older brother would be. Snape was a rotten prat in Harry's book, end of story.
Dumbledore blinked at him, slow and cat-like, giving Harry that unsettling feeling that his thoughts were no longer private. When the headmaster invaded his mind, Harry could barely feel it.
"Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "There is one more thing. During the summer the castle is fairly empty. Most teachers go home to their families. Others go on vacation to one place or another. However..." He paused. Harry's brain kicked into overdrive. Which teacher obviously had no family? Which teacher would rather be caught dead than on a relaxing vacation? Then Harry found his will to argue.
"Excuse my language, Professor, but no fucking way am I going to spend my summer vacation alone in the castle with Professor Snape." Harry stood up and threw his chair back with a screech. "I— I can't even believe this," he barked, his voice rising to a volume that it hadn't often reached since his fifth year.
"Sit down, Harry." Dumbledore said calmly, and Harry obliged, mostly because he was now fighting back tears. He'd been planning his Quidditch career for the last year. He'd been dreaming about having a normal life, about being known for something other than his scar. How could he have been so stupid? But he'd hoped against a hope.
Dumbledore continued. "I am not forcing you to spend time with him. I am simply suggesting that your time here might be well spent getting over your differences. Now I believe that it would be in my best interest to kick you out of my office before you decide to argue." The twinkle was back in his eyes. He snapped his fingers and smiled. "I hope you have a lovely summer."
"Thank you, Professor." Harry ground out and opened the door.
"Oh and Harry," Dumbledore called after the boy. "Could you please send Severus in?" Harry nodded stiffly and slammed the door with more force than was probably necessary. Snape was standing there, leaning against the wall, a smug smirk slapped across his face.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter."
"Dumbledore wants you," Harry mumbled. Then he stalked down the stairs. He was going to fucking ace his potions exam. That would show the hooked nosed bat.
"Five more minutes."
Harry smiled down at his belladonna root. His potion was right on track; five minutes was more than enough time. And in five minutes he'd be done with school, he'd be done with NEWT potions, and he'd be done with that greasy git for good. He grit his teeth as he began to slice his belladonna carefully. Well, almost for good.
Harry set down his knife and glanced into the cauldron. The liquid there bubbled a sickly shade of chartreuse. Perfect. Harry grabbed his cutting board and scrapped his belladonna root into the cauldron. After adjusting the flame with a flick of his wand, Harry ran his finger down the page in his potions text. This was the last step. Three clockwise stirs and the potion would turn the proper shade of brown. Harry grasped his spoon and gave the potion three firm, clockwise stirs. The liquid in his cauldron promptly changed color.
It was yellow. Bright yellow.
"Time's up. Fill a vial, bring it to my desk. Get the hell out and hopefully I'll never see any of you again," Snape sneered from the front of the room. He began walking up and down the rows of students, peering into various cauldrons with disgust. "Fuck," Harry muttered as he watched Hermione bottle her prefect potion. He grabbed a vial and his ladle and bent over his potion. Then he recoiled just as fast.
His potion was now bubbling furiously. Harry bent over to check the flame. It was reduced to a mere simmer. Why in the world was his potion still bubbling? He straightened back up. The bubbling yellow surface was rapidly thickening and emitting a foul smelling smoke. Harry dipped his ladel into the potion, praying that he could bottle it and clean his cauldron before Snape decided to humiliate him. The smoke was rising faster now, filling the room with a filthy smelling haze.
Snape was now barrelling towards him. He looked furious. Harry couldn't see what the big deal was. He'd mucked up potions before, all it took was a simple Evansco to fix the mess. Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the cauldron.
"Potter! Expelliarmus." The wand flew from Harry's hand and the yellow mass trembled and thickened. "Of all the moronic— Everybody out!" Snape growled. Nobody needed to be told twice. Forgoing any sort of sentimental goodbye, the other students flooded through the exit. Snape didn't watch them go. He was busy rifeling through a cabinet. Harry's potion had begun to boil over the sides and he still didn't understand why he couldn't just vanish the mess.
"Professor, why can't we just vanish it?"
"Goddammit, Potter." Snape spun around. "Evansco!" The bubbling mass doubled in size. Snape turned and began looking through another cabinet. "That, Mr. Potter, is why."
"What is going on?" Harry nearly shouted. He jumped aside as the yellow goo inched toward his foot.
Snape spun around again, knocking a vial of purple liquid onto the floor. "Do not touch it, Potter."
"Snape, what is fucking happening? Shit!" Harry jumped back again as the slime slid toward his feet. He collided abruptly with Snape, who spun around to yell at him.
"Language, Potter!"
"Is this really the time?"
Snape stopped abruptly. "Potter, get me that jar. Now!" Harry turned and stretched out his hand. Then two things happened at once.
Harry shouted "Accio."
The yellow slime exploded, doubling in size and surrounding them both.
It was freezing cold. Harry had about a split second to wonder what in the world was happening before everything went black.
