by wretchedscar
© June 29, 2003
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its entities belong to J.K. Rowling. No infringement intended.
Genre: HP/SS/DM - R – Slash
* * *
Wednesday, November 15th, 'The Present' . . . Potions Classroom . . .
"Get. Out. All of you!"
The potions class sat there, stunned. No one moved, no one said a thing. Every single student in the class, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike sported the same look – one of sheer horror and intrigue.
It hadn't been Potter or even Longbottom this time – it had been Draco. Draco Malfoy. The young Slytherin had called the shots today and had created quite the scene. He had been doing that a lot lately.
"WELL?" Professor Severus Snape was silently shaking in fury. "GET OUT!"
"Pro-professor?" Hermione Granger squeaked, her hand shaking but held high in the air, asking permission to speak.
"Ms. Granger, I am warning you –" Snape said quietly. Oh so quietly.
"Hermione," Ron hissed. "Are you mad?! Put your hand down!"
"Not as mad as he is," Neville cried, indicating their Potions professor.
"I – will – only - say – this – one – more – time," Snape continued - waiting.
Harry Potter sighed and stood up from behind his desk before the Professor had a chance to bellow at them again. He was still shaking, the fear of what could have been was frightening. But it was now or never at a chance for leaving safely and he hoped everyone would follow his lead. Draco had already stormed out of the room five minutes prior. It was time for the rest of them to save their own hides and, well, retreat.
Harry picked up his things, his whole body shaking in fury and in fear and walked towards the door to leave. 'How could this have happened . . .' his mind roared and his gut clenched with worry.
"Well that's one of you!" Snape snarled. "Why don't you all follow the golden-boy's example and run away! GO!"
That was all the encouragement the rest of the class needed in order to follow. The sound of chair legs scraping against cold, dungeon floors was followed by the sounds of numerous, retreating footsteps as the class finally left.
* * *
"What the bloody hell was that all about?!" Ron Weasley muttered, his face white with shock as he and Hermione both raced to keep up with their friend. "Slow down Harry, geesh!"
But Harry didn't break his stride.
"I've seen Snape angry before," Hermione panted, as she too tried to keep up. "But not that angry!"
"Can you believe the nerve of Malfoy? What was he on about? It was as though he were trying to drop hints to Snape! Like he knew something he wasn't supposed to. And when he said –" Ron started.
"Harry, where are you going?!" Hermione cut in with confusion.
Harry abruptly halted and Ron and Hermione both bumped into him unable to stop quickly enough.
"Could you two just please leave me alone?!" Harry asked quietly. He was feeling a bit dizzy.
"Harry?" Hermione had that worried look to her that drove Harry to insanity sometimes. "Harry, what's wrong?"
"Just – leave – me – alone," Harry ground out.
"You sound just like Snape!" Ron glared. "What is going on around here?!?! Well?!" he prodded at Harry's silence.
"Nothing!!!" Harry turned on his heel and left both of them behind at a loss for words. What could he possibly say? The truth at this point in time wasn't an option. It was all about the lies. And he had had enough of them.
* * *
"MALFOY!" Potter's voice roared through the hallway right outside of the Slytherin common room. "Get out here, now!"
Harry was breathing hard, the rage that burned within him making him blind to reason. He waited for the portrait to move aside, for the young Malfoy heir to step out from within – and sure enough he did.
"What's wrong, Potter?" Draco smirked. "Something bothering you? Or is it someone who's bothering you?"
Harry growled low in his throat and moved forward, grabbing Draco by his shirt collar and pushed him roughly up against the cold, stone wall.
Malfoy laughed and winced, "This is so unlike what I saw before, Potter! Last I recall you were the one who enjoyed being –"
"SHUT UP!" Harry roared, tears blinding his eyes. 'No one was supposed to have known . . . to have found out,' he cried. He tightened his grip on his nemesis' throat. "I want this to end!"
"Or didn't you enjoy it?" he smirked. "Alright, alright," Malfoy choked out, still trying not to laugh. "So you want it to end . . . but does Snape?"
Harry could feel himself breaking out into a cold sweat, his limbs shaking and his heart and mind racing. 'What am I going to do,' he thought to himself in a near panic. "What are we going to do," he said quietly aloud. His grasp on Draco loosened and he felt himself sinking to the floor.
"Oh get up, Potter. Don't be so dramatic," Draco sniffed.
He was going to be sick. Harry felt as if his whole entire life was out of control. And here he was, at the mercy of not only Snape but now also Malfoy?!
"Come on," Draco grabbed Harry by the arm and drew him up, to push him this time against the wall for some support. "Let's talk business, shall we?"
'Business?' Harry's mind echoed dully. 'BUSINESS?!'
"Let go of me, Malfoy! I want nothing to do with you!" he yelled and jerked away from the other boy to run down the hallway, frantically trying to reach a safe haven that quite frankly wasn't there.
Draco Malfoy watched Potter go with a grim sort of satisfaction. He had been waiting so long for a moment like this – a moment where he was in control – where he had power. Oh, it was wonderful. It was delightful.
"Fine," he said aloud. "I suppose it's time I spoke with Snape then." Oh yes, he'd sort this out rather quickly with his head of house. 'Not so much in charge of me now, are you Professor Snape,' Malfoy's mind sung. 'Potter's misfortune is a moment's riches for me!'
He'd get what he wanted from both of them – he'd get all of it – with blackmail alone.
* * *
Thursday, November 9th, Almost A Week Ago . . . . Albus Dumbledore's Office . . . .
"You realize why am I asking this of you, Harry?" Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sat behind his grand, wooden desk, eyeing the young man before him.
"Yes sir," Harry said a little glumly. He felt as though he had let Dumbledore down somehow.
"It is imperative that you maintain as high of marks in potions as you have been in all of your other studies." The old Professor continued, "Naturally I expect that with a little tutoring outside of class, all shall be well and your average shall again be at the top of the class."
Harry sighed and felt his heart drop. As if he didn't have enough on his mind without potions being there twenty-four-seven-a-day. He had intentionally let his potions marks drop as he had had enough fighting with Snape to even get high what high marks he could in the first place. It was his first surrender to a nonchalant academic attitude. He had made this choice just a week ago and now, obviously, everyone was correcting it for him today.
"Yes, sir," he agreed against his own reasoning. He should just continue to flunk things for the fun of it. Yep. 'Oh you know you won't . . . You'll rise to the occasion and make everything right like you always do,' his mind scorned.
"Professor Snape . . ." Dumbledore started again.
Harry sat up in his chair, back rigid, heart going a mile a minute. No one had said it was going to be Snape – no one . . . .couldn't it have been Hermione?!?! Even Neville was better?!?! Dear God at least with Neville it'd all end quickly with one cauldron blowing up! 'Oh just bloody great, it's Snape and there's nothing you can do about it,' he winced.
". . . has agreed to tutor you every Thursday night after dinner," Dumbledore finished. "It is your responsibility Harry to work hard and be there on time."
He had that damn twinkle in his eye again. That damn twinkle.
"Your first session will begin tonight," Dumbledore smiled.
"Yes sir," Harry sighed. "Thank you." Right.
* * *
Thursday, November 9th, Almost A Week Ago. . . . Dinner In The Great Hall . . . .
"It's all for the best, Harry," Hermione gave him a stern look. "Honestly, you should be thankful!"
Harry let his fork fall to his plate with a clatter, "Thankful?! Hermione?!"
Ron glared at Hermione Granger and opened his mouth to speak, "Have you no sympathy for the poor bloke?!"
"Of course, of course," Hermione soothed. "But Professor Snape is one of the best potions masters ever. Not only will Harry have him as a teacher – but also as a tutor beyond class! That's twice the amount of teaching and attention that any of us get! Imagine the possibilities," she said with a dreamy look that only an academic could master.
"Why don't you go for me, then?" Harry scowled, picking up his fork again and poking at his mashed potatoes. He had no appetite.
"Because I already have an A. And, well, because I'm not going to save the whole entire wizarding world someday," Hermionie grinned.
Harry inwardly flinched. He knew Hermione was teasing but lately he just didn't want to be reminded of that burden today, or tomorrow, or, well, ever.
Ron and Hermione watched as Harry stood up, leaving his dinner abandoned. "I'll see you both later," he mumbled.
Ron frowned with concern.
"Good luck, Harry," Hermione waved with a happiness that Harry just didn't understand.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED