Hi there!
This story is simply based by a faint idea that I once had, and felt like to write down for my own amusement. I never had any intention to share it, I just had a desperate need to get it out of my head to prevent me from going slightly more insane than I'm already is. However, my sister read it (with or without my permission doesn't matter) and have nagged on me to put it up here for months!
Now, I can finally have some peace. ^^ I'm not expecting anyone to actually like this fanfic. My sis has a weird taste... And secondly, I'm quite confident that no one even will read it. 3 Since there are more HP fanfics here than there are fishies in the sea. :)
I'm gonna stop whining now. XD If you for some miraculous reason managed to find this and is planning to read; bless you. ;) If you're not planing to read it; You are a more sane person that I've ever been.
This takes place during Harry's fifth year on Hogwarts, and before the attack on Arthur Weasley.
No slash whatsoever. It's written by a person who just likes to see Snape and Harry interacting. It's like watching a cat and a fox staring at each other. The outcome can be anything, but it never ends very romantically...
And if anyone would be uncertain: No, I do NOT own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does. Or is it Warner Bothers? I'm not really sure anymore... I just know that it isn't me. ^^
* * *
As Harry left after Filch's detention, with his scar aching more than earlier, he immediately headed to the Gryffindor tower. The clock was just past 11, and he didn't doubt a second that Filch would actually try to come after him and punish him for running around in the corridors after curfew. Even if it was because of Filch's detention that he was out this late in the first place. Harry just wanted to safely get back to his bed and sleep away the increasing pain in his scar.
He quickly ran up to the fat lady and told her "ginger beer" and then crawled through the opening to the Gryffindor's Tower.
Harry found Hermione and Ron in the Gryffindor's common room waiting for him. He noticed a group of third year students that were just about to head to their bedrooms, and soon the common room was left empty. Hermione looked up when she heard Harry and smiled welcoming, but Ron looked deeply troubled and didn't seem to notice Harry at all. Hermione gave Harry a meaning look and Harry knew exactly what the problem was.
The day's lesson in transfiguration hadn't gone very well for Ron. And it had only made it worse when McGonagall later had warned them about an upcoming test on evolving transfigurations that she expected everyone that wanted to get an O.W.L in her subject to pass. Unfortunately, turning caterpillars to butterflies had proven ridiculously difficult, and no one other than Hermione had managed to do it completely right.
Harry sat down next to Ron, just as his friend fell back to his couch, looking deeply depressed.
- I'm not gonna make it! Ron groaned. – There's no way that I'm going to pass that test. You saw me! I was terrible!
- Oh come on, Ron, you're overacting. As usual… Hermione sighed without looking up from her book about "Magical metamorphism". – It's just like in quidditch. You got the potential, but you just have to believe in yourself.
- Hermione… did you actually see what happened to my caterpillar…? Ron asked. – Because, it's a wonder if you didn't... Since it was about 2 feet high and almost ate your backpack…
- It could have been worse. Hermione tried cheerfully. – Seamus accidentally killed his caterpillar, remember? And not even McGonagall could figure out how Neville managed to make those weird tentacles grow out from his…
- I've never managed to do a size controlling spell before. Ron whined, not listening to Hermione. – Why did it have to work now? I wasn't even trying! I don't think I've ever heard so many girls scream at the same time before...
Hermione sighed and returned to her book.
- You just have to practice. That's the only way to get better. Right Harry?
Harry was rubbing his forehead, looking troubled and Hermione looked at him with a confused face
- What is it Harry? She asked.
- Nothing… Harry lied and quickly removed his hand.
- Is it your scar? I can see that you…
- It usually hurt now and then. There's no big deal. Harry interrupted. He did not want to give Hermione another reason to scold him for not taking the occlumency lessons serious, or that he was making himself vulnerable to Voldemort. – There's nothing strange with it. It'll go away.
- Or cheating…! Ron suddenly exclaimed smiling, obviously not paying attention to Harry's and Hermione's conversation. – Hermione! You can drink a polyjuice elixir with my hair in it, and then you can take the test in my place!
- You don't seriously think that I would even considering doing that, do you? Hermione replied deadpan, not looking up from her book. – And I have to do that test too, you know.
- I just figured that since your grades in transfiguration already are as high as they can get, it won't be affected if you miss one tiny, little test… Ron said defensively with his arms crossed.
- Oh, just drop it Ron. Hermione said annoyed, closing the book with a loud "bam". – It didn't go very well for Harry either in that class… Oh, sorry Harry. I didn't mean that you were bad at the transfiguration. Just that…
- … That his caterpillar evolved into a parsnip? Ron laughed so hard that he almost fell out of his couch, making Crookshanks give him an annoyed look, very much like Hermione's, and leave to find a quieter place to sleep.
Harry wasn't laughing. His left hand was rubbing his forehead again, trying to make the pain in the scar to go down. Hermione gave him an examining look.
- What's wrong Harry? She asked and Ron suddenly stopped laughing, now to see what was going on.
Harry didn't answer. The scar had hurt ever since the occlumency lesson with Snape almost 6 hours ago and the pain had only grown worse.
- It's ok. Harry answered; trying to sound like normal. – I'm fine.
- You don't look that fine… Hermione said, eyeing him suspiciously.
- No wonder. Ron said. – Snape is still making you miserable at the occlumency lessons, isn't he?
- Ron, I thought we had discussed that. Hermione said irritated.
- I still think that Snape's lessons only make him worse. Ron stated stubbornly.
- Well, I'm sure that it's supposed to feel a bit sore afterwards. Hermione said, sounding much like her younger self.
- Really? And when did you become an expert on scars caused by the Avada kedavra curse?
- Stop being silly, Ron. Hermione replied with a little angry blush in her face. - I'm going to bed, and I think that you should too Harry. You'll see that it feels better tomorrow.
Hermione left her couch and started to walk away from them, not noticing the grimace Ron made behind her back. But then he got up from his chair too, heading to the boys dormitory. He walked a few steps, but stopped when he noticed that Harry wasn't following him.
- Are you coming? Ron asked.
Harry wasn't able to hide it anymore. He shut his eyes hard when the pain rose to a new peak and he buried his face in both his hands.
- Harry, what is it? Ron asked and walked back to him. Hermione had stopped half way to the girl's room and looked at them both in confusion.
- It's ok… Harry managed to answer, but it wasn't true. The pain in his scar was now a hammering sharp one. It felt like if someone was stabbing his forehead with a pike.
- Are you sure…? Ron asked uncertainly.
- I… Harry panted and could feel his shirt getting soaked in his own sweat. His scar was burning under his hands. It felt very hot. Was he getting a fever…?
- Harry, you look sick. Ron said taking a closer look at Harry. – Bloody hell... What on earth did Filch make you do? Eat flobberworms?
Harry didn't answer. In fact, he felt too weak to talk at all. He got to his feet, panting like if he had been running. Maybe Hermione was right? Maybe he just needed some sleep and eventually it would go away? The room was spinning a little, which kinda worried him though…
- Harry, here. Ron said dead serious and held up his left hand. – How many fingers can you see?
Suddenly, a knife pierced Harry's scar. The sudden pain made him scream out loud and then he collapsed on the floor. He curled together on the ground, trembling and clutching his arms around his head in a desperate attempt to make the pain go away. Hermione immediately rushed down the stairs towards them, while Ron was trying to help Harry up in a sitting position.
- Harry! Hermione screamed and kneeled beside him. – What happened?!
Harry couldn't answer. He had to use all his strength to not scream again, and couldn't bring himself to even open his mouth. He shut his eyes hard as he felt the pain growing to a new climax.
- Harry! Hermione called out again looking worried.
- Come on! Let's get him to the hospital wing. Ron said.
- No, we can't! Hermione replied, trying to get a closer look at Harry who was still trembling on the floor in agony. – It's his scar. What do you think Madame Pomfrey can do about it? We need Dumbledore or at least McGonagall. Someone from the order. They should have a better idea what to do. One of us has to stay with him while the other gets help.
- Do you really think it's such a good idea to leave him here…? Ron asked, nodding to the dormitories. – What if anyone wakes up?
- Oh no, you're right… Hermione admitted and looked anxiously at Harry. – Harry, do you think that you can walk? The teacher's lounge isn't that far a…
Hermione suddenly went quiet and starred at Harry with a face turning pale.
- Oh my god… She said with a low voice looking at him in shock. – Harry… You… you are bleeding.
- What!? Ron said and looked at Harry's face with a frightened expression.
Harry felt something sticky between his fingers. His hands were still clutching his forehead, but he had thought it was his sweat. Ron looked very similar to when he had met Aragog in the forbidden forest, his face was white as a sheet and simply terrified. Harry forced himself to remove one of his hands, and then looked down at it. It was covered in something red which looked very much like blood.
- Hermione…! Said Ron and looked at Hermione in desperation.
- Hang on. Hermione replied quickly.
She flipped her wand in a fast and complicated pattern and made a compress and a small bottle of some unknown liquid magically appear in thin air. She soaked the compress with the liquid and pressed it to Harry's forehead.
- Here. She said. - Press this against the bleeding. It will decrease it, and I think that's the best we can do for now. The sooner we get to the teacher's room, the better.
Harry took it and did what she told him to. The compress didn't help the slightest against the pain, but at least it stopped his blood from dripping all over the floor. The pain in the scar were now fluctuating from almost bearable, to hurting as like someone were cutting it with a sharp heated dagger.
He suddenly felt Ron taking Harry's unoccupied arm and drag him up to his feet.
- Do you think that you can walk? Ron asked while still holding on to Harry's right arm to keep him up.
Harry couldn't concentrate on anything. The pain was staggering and made it hard to focus. He tried to let go of Ron and managed, though very unsteady, to stand up by his own strength. But as soon he was even thinking of trying to take a step, the glowing pain hit him like a bus and he lost his balance immediately. Fortunately, Ron was prepared for it and caught Harry before he hit the floor. He took Harry's right arm again and put it around his neck to steady him. The pain was temporarily fading to an aching drumming in Harry's head, making him feel a bit numb.
Ron led him to the portrait hole and Hermione opened it so that they could sneak out, unfortunately waking up the fat lady again. She began to loudly complain about lack of respect and the young peoples treatment of the elderly, and so on. Almost making Mrs Black's portrait in Grimmauld place number 12 seem rather enjoyable.
- Oh, shut it! Hermione replied with an annoyed tone and turned around after one or two meters pointing her wand at the fat lady. – Silencio!
The corridor went peacefully quiet and though the fat lady's lips were moving hysterically, no sound was heard from her.
Both Ron and Harry stared at Hermione. Harry was so surprised over her action that he for one moment forgot about the crucifying pain his scar was causing him, and simply looked at her in astonishment.
- Come on! She said frustrated. – We have to hurry, remember?
- Hermione, since when are you hexing paintings…? Ron asked looking back at the Fat Lady who now, at the lack of vocabulary, expressed her feelings by doing very rude gesticulations at them.
- Ron, we really don't need her to catch Filch's attention right now. Hermione replied. – That was the best solution I could come up with…
- I'm not complaining! Ron said quickly. – I'm just not that used with you using magic in the corridors. Since it's against the rules I mean…
- Oh come on! We're not even supposed to be in the corridors this late. Hermione said. – But the important thing is that we get Harry to professor McGonagall as quickly as possible! Hurry up!
Hermione ran to the right corridor and turned on to face Ron who still looked a bit perplexed.
- I mean it! Said Hermione with an angry look at Ron. - Have you any idea how serious this could be? Follow me.
Hermione turned around again and started to walk away in a high pace. Ron helped Harry to lean on him so that could get the balance to walk, and then they followed her.
The pain in his scar made Harry loose track of time. It felt like they were walking the corridor forever, and he were starting to get trouble keeping himself upright. He had to force himself to not give in for the pain that was trashing his head, and concentrate on keeping himself conscious. And even though it already was hurting like ten thousands needles, Harry could feel that the pain in his scar was, once again, growing.
- Over there! Hurry up, we're almost there now. Hermione suddenly said.
They had finally reached the right corridor. And luckily, they hadn't even encountered Peeves or anyone else that could possible bother them.
Harry's breathing was getting heavier and he tried to focus on anything but the aching scar that was now making it really difficult for him to stand.
- Hold on there Harry. Ron said with a low voice, noticing the sudden change in Harry's behaviour.
- There's the door! Hermione announced and pointed about 15 meters ahead. – We just… Oh no, Harry!
Harry's feet couldn't bear him anymore and he felt how he unexpectedly fell to the floor. Ron managed to catch him right before hitting the hard ground and he dragged Harry up in a sitting position. Ron kneeled beside him.
- Harry! What is it? Ron said, looking worried.
At one moment, all Harry could feel was a strange numbness. It was like all the pain had suddenly been drained from him. Disappeared.
The feeling lasted for a split second.
Then, without warning, it felt like something ripped his head apart. The pain was excruciating. Something that sliced his head into two pieces, a glowing pain he had never encountered in his whole life. He wanted to scream out loud but couldn't. He dropped the bloody tissue when he once again clutched his forehead with both his hands, desperate trying to make the pain go away.
- Hermione! Ron shouted to Hermione who was just about to rush towards them. – Knock on the door! Get someone out here!
Harry felt how Ron took a grip of his waist and started to drag him away. But it wasn't that easy, since the torturing pain made Harry twitch and curl, not being able to control himself. Hermione was at the door and knocked several times, looking stressed. Ron managed to move Harry to a spot about one and a half meters from the door and leaned him against the wall, still in a sitting position.
Harry was still burying his head in his hands and could feel the sticky blood underneath them. He shut his eyes close, wishing that it all would just disappear. That something could make it go away. He felt helpless, like if he was drowning. There was absolutely nothing he could do to stop this...
- Don't worry Harry. Ron said and gave Harry's shoulder a reassuring pat. – McGonagall knows how to fix this. No doubt about it. And if she can't, Dumbledore will know for sure! Just hang in there…
- Open up! Hermione told the closed door with an angry look. – Please! We really need to talk to professor McGonagall! It's important!
Hermione was just about to knock again when the door finally opened. And through the painful hammering in Harry's head, he could still recognise the scornful voice of the man he hated so much…
- Well, isn't it Miss Granger. Said Snape, with a voice drenched with sarcasm. – And very early to class I see. Since it's at least 7 hours left until students are allowed to leave their dormitories…
- Oh, professor… Hermione said looking fairly frightened at the sight of Snape's figure in the doorway.
Even though Snape actually, despite how hard Harry and Ron furiously chose to deny it, was a member of the order, he was hardly the right person to ask for help in the middle of the night. Not even if the castle was on fire. Maybe if the three of them happened to belong in the dungeons and wore ties in silver and green. But they didn't. And Harry strongly doubted that Snape would treat him any different at all if he had followed the sorting hat's advice and chosen Slytherin that day 5 years ago.
- We have to speak with professor McGonagall. Ron said and walked towards Snape, looking irritated. – Is she here?
- Weasley, though an understandable misunderstanding considering your intellect, I must inform you that the teachers do not sleep in the teachers lounge. We do have our own bedrooms.
- But is professor McGonagall in there at the moment? Ron asked and apparently held back a very rude reply.
- I think I was implying that all teachers has gone to bed. Snape sneered. – I am the last one to leave this room. You two, on the contrary, appear not to be in your beds. Even though the rules clearly says that only teachers can be out in the corridors after curfew, while students can not.
- Professor, it's really important. Hermione said with a pleading voice.
- I'm sure it must be. Snape smiled. – Since you seem so happy to get detention for its sake. Not to mention sacrificing so many of Gryffindor's precious points. I'm sure the reason must be very admirable. I only hope that your friends in Gryffindor will agree with you… Let's see, how many points to be withdrawn for breaking the curfew…
- We don't care! Both Ron and Hermione yelled at once, looking angry at Snape for not letting them come to the point.
- … 150 points will be drawn from Gryffindor, for walking in the corridors at night. Said Snape and smiled scornfully, obviously having a great time. - 50 points from each of you. And yes, I assume that since you two are up late, Potter can't be very far away either.
Snape, whose concentration had only been focused on Hermione and Ron until now, moved his eyes to the corridor to locate the third scoundrel, and his gaze immediately fell upon Harry.
Harry was still sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, both his hands clutching his head trying to decrease the pain. Every minute was a living hell and he just wished that something, anything, could end it. That something could stop the piercing feeling of something slicing his head into tiny pieces. Snape looked at Harry with a face that was absolutely impossible to read. He started to calmly walk towards him, Ron and Hermione not far behind.
- It's a bit complicated, sir… Hermione begun, looking a little uneasy. – I think it would be better if we called for professor McGonagall or Dumbledore...
- Well, it's about Harry. Ron interrupted.
- Obviously... Snape muttered with a slightly sardonic tone, but his expression was indifferent as he stopped in front of Harry to take a look at him.
Under normal circumstances, Harry would immediately get on his feet, declare that he was fit as a fiddle, and then get so far away from Snape that he never had to hear his mocking voice again. Because Harry dearly hated his Potion Teacher, and wanted as little contact with him as possible. But the scar was hurting so much that he didn't even care about Snape's presence. He clinched his teeth hard together, and his muscles were so tense that his body was shivering. Why wouldn't it stop? He couldn't take it much longer… The excruciating pain overwhelmed him and threatened to drive him mad. Harry came to think of Neville's parents that had been tortured into insanity…
He could feel that Snape was staring at his forehead.
- Remove your hands, Potter. Snape said demanding
No. Harry did not want to remove his hands! Not for Snape, not for anyone! It felt like if he did, the pain would rise again. Somehow, he was convinced that pressing his hands against the scar was the only thing that kept it manageable.
- I mean it, Potter. Snape said with a calm strict voice. – If you don't do as I say, I can easily make you. Whether you like it or not.
Snape held out his wand in a threatening gesture to prove his point. Harry didn't have a choice. He could either do it by his own free will, or Snape could force him. And he knew what he preferred.
He regained control over his shivering body, took a deep breath, and forced his hands to let go of his forehead. The feeling was like letting go off a safe rope. He had to concentrate hard to not let his hands immediately fling up to the scar again.
Snape had a serious expression on his face when he took a closer look at Harry's scar that was still bleeding lightly.
Harry didn't like this sudden attention. But he couldn't deny that Snape probably was skilful enough to have an idea what to do. And Harry was in such desperate need of someone that could make this agonising feeling go away, that he for once did not see Snape as an enemy.
When Snape had studied the scar in half a minute he turned to Ron and Hermione.
- Tell me when this started. Snape said with a calm voice.
- He… He was complaining about the scar about... Maybe 20 minutes ago... Hermione stammered. – It started to bleed a couple a minutes after that...
- Can you help him or not? Ron asked angrily.
Snape raised an eyebrow and gave Ron a scornful look.
- Has it occurred to you, Mr Weasley, that this is obviously not an ordinary affliction?
- What's that suppose to mean? Ron asked with a glare.
- It means, no. I can not help him.
- Then what the heck can we do?! Ron said angrily, seemingly restraining an urge to punch Snape for not being to any help.
- You two? Most likely nothing. Snape replied calmly. – I, on the other hand, will take Potter to my office and see if I have anything that can possibly… alleviate this problem…
Harry didn't like the sound of any of that. He didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to be alone with Snape, and he most certainly didn't want to be alone with Snape in Snape's office while Snape tried to "alleviate" whatever it was that caused him this pain.
- What…? Ron said agitated but Hermione cut him off.
- So… You do know how to help him? Hermione asked.
- I thought that I just told you that I don't, Miss Granger. Snape answered with a glare. – However, as a teacher I'm afraid that I am obliged to do whatever I can for Potter, even if it's beyond my power. Not to mention will... But, if you really do want to be helpful, you might as well go and inform professor McGonagall about this.
- We don't know where her room is. Ron said.
- Oh, I'm sure that Miss Granger knows… Snape mumbled and made a few spots of blood on the floor disappear with his wand.
Ron opened his mouth to say something but noticed that Hermione blushed slightly, and thus confirming Snape's assumption.
Harry made a sudden inhale. He could now feel how the pain was building again. It would rise to a new peak, and Harry didn't know how he would manage it this time. He couldn't take much more of this…
- However… Potter, you're coming with me. Snape repeated. – You, Weasley, might just as well go back to your bed.
- No way. Ron stated, as a simple fact.
- Miss Granger apparently doesn't need a guide to professor McGonagall's room, and I rather not have more than one student to concentrate on at the moment.
- I'm not leaving him. Ron said stubbornly.
Harry truly appreciated Ron at that moment. He really did not want to be alone in Snape's office in the middle of the night, and wished that at least Ron could come with him.
- Your presence is not required… Snape muttered annoyed.
- It is! Ron said. – Harry can hardly stand on his own, less even walk! How is he…?
Ron went immediately quiet when Snape pulled out his wand again. But Snape completely ignored Ron's words and instead focused his eyes on Harry. He pointed a bony finger at Harry's forehead and then pressed it against his scar.
Harry flinched at the touch. It was through pure willpower that he managed to keep control over his arms, and not let them fling up to his forehead again. The excruciating pain that overwhelmed him the second Snape's finger made contact to his skin caused Harry to tremble. He gritted his teeth to prevent himself from scream in agony.
Snape completely ignored Harry's reaction and had now started to wave his wand in a complicated pattern while muttering something, his finger still touching Harry's forehead. Harry tried not to move, but was inches away from starting to trashing around on the floor due to the raising pain. The effort made his body shiver, bhe had no choice. If he didn't sit still, Snape would surely make him still, and Harry refused to allow Snape to have anymore power over him than he already had. He wanted this to be over with. He just wished that Snape would remove his hand! Why was he doing this? It hurt! How could something that was supposed to help him hurt so much?
Eventually Snape suddenly stopped the charm and pointed his wand directly at Harry's scar.
- Abeodolor. Harry heard him said.
He then withdrew his finger and Harry felt a strange numbing feeling spread from his scar and through his whole body. The numbness turned into a strange tingling sensation, and then suddenly the pain was gone. Like if it had never been there.
Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione whom both stared back at him in surprise. He fumbled his hand over his forehead. The scar wasn't bleeding anymore.
- Wha… What did you…? Harry asked with an unsteady voice.
- I temporarily repressed the pain. Snape explained indifferently and got to his feet, without looking at Harry. – This is a charm that can, in the most cases, relieve any kind of pain that is not caused by strong curses. It can also, if used effective enough, even reduce the effect of the Crucio curse.
Harry shook his head to clear it a little, and shared a disbelieving look with Ron. Was Snape trying to teach them Defence against Dark Arts right now…?
- And… Snape continued as his gaze landed on Hermione. – I must say that I am utterly surprised to see that Miss Granger, the ever so cleverest student in her grade, didn't think of using that to help Potter…?
- I didn't… Well, it did cross my mind. Hermione said a bit uncertain, like if it was a question about an error she'd done on a test. – But I thought that it wouldn't work since Harry's scar is technically caused by the Avada kedavra curse, which…
- Which of course should count as a stronger curse, yes, we all know that. Snape interrupted. – But even so, it is not designed to cause any pain. To our knowledge, all victims die completely unharmed and without any suffering at all. Therefore, there is no reason why this particular spell wouldn't work.
- That spell is horrible tricky to make right! Hermione defended herself, slightly angered. – One tiny mistake and it could have the reverse effect. I was a bit upset that moment… I wouldn't have dared to use it on Harry even if I had known that it would work. I…
- So you decided to look for professor McGonagall instead... Snape cut her off calmly. – But in that case… Snape gave Hermione a scornful look. – May I ask why you are not already on your way to her room as we speak…?
Hermione blushed slightly. She gave Harry a "don't worry it's gonna be fine" glance before she dashed away through the hallway.
- Now, Weasley. Return to your dormitory, or I will withdraw points from Gryffindor's house.
- … Does that mean that you're not planning to take those 150 points from before…? Ron asked sheepishly.
- Leave. Snape said coldly. – And as I told you before, the effect of the spell is only temporarily. It will soon wear off, and I would appreciate to not be in the corridor when that happens.
Harry felt a split feeling… He wanted Ron's company, but if Snape and Ron kept arguing for much longer the pain in the scar would probably be back soon, and Harry wasn't very keen on letting Snape touch his forehead again… He quickly got to his feet.
- It's okay Ron. He said, but not sounding too convincing. – I'll be fine. Really.
Ron looked very doubtful to leave Harry in the not very trustful hands of Severus Snape, but seemed to give in and gave Harry a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he left. Harry felt an anxious feeling as he realised that he was now alone.
Snape didn't wait another second and started to walk down the hallway, Harry quickly following him.
He wondered how long it would take for Hermione to get McGonagall. Harry didn't know where her bedroom was either, but hopefully not too far away. He wished that he didn't have to stay in Snape's office for long... The jars on the shelves with various contents of creepy ingredients had always had a slightly unsettled feeling on him and his stomach.
Harry started to feel worried about exactly what Snape was planning to do to him. As the school's potion teacher, there were practically no doubt about what kind of solutions he probably had in mind. The jars on the shelves popped up in Harry's head again and he gave away an involuntary shiver.
This didn't feel good…
And since Snape wasn't very fond of Harry (Harry found it easier to imagine Filch and Peeves happily married, than a friendship between him and Snape) he didn't doubt a second that the professor would gladly choose the most uncomfortable and malicious way to "help" him. Harry's steps became heavier and he looked miserably down at the floor as they now passed the statue of a fat wizard with hideous skin rash, which meant that there was half the way left to the dungeons.
- Now, Potter, I want you to tell me exactly when your scar began to hurt.
- Ehm… Harry hesitated; not sure if he wanted to admit that it actually had hurt on and off ever since the occlumency session, which had been several hours ago. – I don't really remember.
- I see. Snape said calmly. – Well, a useless memory would indeed explain your lack of progress in my potion classes. Snape said mockingly. – Do you rather want me to look inside your head and find it out myself?
- No, sir. Harry said irritated. If he told him the truth, Snape would probably rant about how weak Harry was. – A couple of hours ago, I think. Is it really that important?
- I will decide that when I get a proper answer, Potter. Snape responded with a cold glance at Harry. – I will repeat the question for you; when exactly did your scar start to hurt?
- Harry felt something building inside of him, though this time it wasn't pain, but anger.
- About eight hours ago… Harry mumbled.
That was the time when the lesson had ended, but maybe Snape wouldn't make that connection. Unfortunately, when Harry looked up, he caught a typical Snape-glare directed at him. Filled with a mixture of coldness and annoyance.
- I will understand it as that you didn't learn much from today's occlumency lesson either... Snape exclaimed ironically. – How surprising.
- How can you say that? Harry asked annoyed. – What makes you think that just because my scar hurts after every session; it means that I'm not learning anything?
- It means that you let me into your mind. You didn't shield yourself and emptied your head. Those are the exact things that you are supposed to learn. Evidently, you are not learning.
- And how is that related to this problem? Harry asked aggravated. – How can the fact that I'm not "learning" anything cause my scar to start bleeding!
- It does not necessary have anything to do with our sessions, Potter. The pain related to the bleeding might have started later, but was concealed by the pain from the occlumency lesson. Snape said calmly and gave Harry a scornful look. – How easy it would have been to find it out if you had been a better student, Potter.
"Or if you had been a better teacher" Harry thought for himself. He wanted to say it out load, but he decided that considering where they were heading, it would be unwise to give Snape any other reason to make Harry's life miserable. And he felt too tired to deal with an angry Snape anyway…
- I can assure you, that I do not find our sessions the slightest more enjoyable than you do, Potter. Snape continued.
"I think it's more enjoyable to penetrate someone's memories then trying to stop someone from doing it" Harry thought, still determined to not talk out loud.
The closer they got to their destination, the less did Harry look forward to enter his professor's office. It made him feel a cold uneasy feeling in his stomach. But the sensation was soon replaced by something else. A growing aching feeling in his scar…
- I must say that compared to the occlumency lessons, your skills in potion class appears almost impressive. Snape said with a grin. – And since your grades in that particular subject are close to "Troll", it's quite an achievement for you to manage to be even worse in something else.
Harry suddenly stopped and leaned against the wall, slightly panting. Snape walked several steps before noticing that Harry wasn't following him, and turned around to look at him
- What, Potter? He asked demanding.
- N… Nothing. Harry lied.
- Nothing? Snape asked and frowned. Harry didn't answer and Snape narrowed his eyes suspiciously. - Shall I assume that the reason for your stop is caused by severe exhaustion due to walking 500 meters…?
- Yes. Harry said with a stubborn glare at Snape, who raised an eyebrow.
Harry had no intention whatsoever to admit that his scar was hurting again. And no matter how much Harry wanted the pain to go away, he really didn't want Snape to use that charm on him again… The pain wasn't that bad yet.
Snape was still eyeing him cautiously. Harry let go off the wall and tried to look as normal as possible.
- You are a terrible liar, Potter. Snape said calmly, like he was telling Harry that he had done badly on a test. – You should add that to your increasing list of things you are useless at. Now, answer me again. What is it?
- There's nothing, sir. Harry answered truthfully.
- Potter. I know that you will do most likely anything to be excused from visiting my office. Snape said scornfully. – Even if it means to delay us much as you can by answering my questions with complete nonsense.
Harry blinked in disbelief. Was Snape accusing him for faking this just to slow them down…? It would have been a good idea, but the fact was that Harry hadn't tried to fake anything at all. It had hurt, but only temporarily. The pain was almost completely gone now…
- I'm not trying to delay anything, sir. Harry said.
- And not listening, are you Potter? Snape said with a mocking smile. – Not much improvement there after four years. I would appreciate if you could tell me the truth instead.
- Sir. Harry said a bit louder. – I'm fine.
Snape's eyes were fixed upon Harry who didn't move an inch.
- Very well… Snape said with a smile that Harry had learned to watch out for over the years. – Maybe if I put it this way; If you don't…
But then, Snape suddenly went quiet and looked at Harry with an uncertain look. He lowered his face closer to Harry who instinctively moved a couple of steps away from him.
- Sir…? Harry asked. - What is it…?
Harry then felt something sticky trail down above his right eye. He stroked his right hand over his forehead and looked at it. Red.
- It… Harry wasn't sure what to say. – It's probably nothing, professor. It doesn't hurt, or…
But at that particular moment, Harry felt how something in his scar cut through his head and an unbearable pain overwhelmed his whole body. Thousands of knives stabbed his forehead at once. It felt worse than ever. He clutched both his hands over his scar and staggered a couple of step backwards, hitting his back hard against the stonewall.
Harry had shut his eyes immediately and couldn't see Snape or anything else around him. He was trashing about on the floor desperately trying to make the pain go away. He thought he could hear his name from somewhere, but couldn't tell for sure. The scar hurt so much that it was temporarily making him deaf to anything around him.
Harry felt a numbing feeling taking over his head. A feeling that dragged him far away from the pain and everything else.
He had a vague feeling that he fainted.
* * *
Thank you if you've read this far. ^^ I wasn't really planning on writing a second chapter, but I might have one in mind if anyone would want me to continue... ^^;
And any constructive critic is welcome!! As you might have noticed, English is not my first language, so if there are any misspellings, gramatical errors, or sentences that could be different... Please tell me! It will help me improve and make my english teacher proud of me! 3
