A/N: Hey guys! So I had originally planned for more at least a little more plot action to happen in this chapter, but as I was writing it got to be about the length of the last one (and my OCD side likes to keep them all relatively the same) I decided to cut it short, so here you go!
As always, reviews are always welcome!
Enjoy!
"Sixteen inches on the effects of unskilled Animagus transformations, on my desk by the start of next class," McGonagall finished as they packed up their bags. "And I won't excuse for broken bones," she added, looking straight at Ron and Harry. Ron flushed slightly, Harry nodding once in understanding. They packed up the rest of their books and followed the last of the class out the door.
"Fly straight, boys," McGonagall murmured as they past, not looking up from the third year essays she was analyzing.
Harry smirked. "Thank you, Professor,"
The three made their way downstairs, angling themselves out the double doors and onto the grounds, finding a relatively quiet spot on the far side of the lake. Hermione pulled a soft blue blanket out of her seemingly never-ending school bag and laid it down on the grass. The three plopped heavily upon it, sighing as they finally relaxed.
"At least we have no more classes until the weekend's over," Harry said softly, resting his hands behind his head as he watched the clouds drift above them.
"And our homework's done," Hermione added brightly. "Well, besides Transfiguration," her voice had a touch of worry in it.
"Relax, 'Mione," Ron nudged her slightly with his elbow. "It's not due for a whole week,"
She huffed once but let it go, snuggling closer into his side and sighing.
"I think," Harry started, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We should go out tonight to celebrate, since I can't tomorrow," He propped himself up on one elbow, looking over to Ron with an excited expression.
"Harry," Hermione cut him short. He could hear his impending disappointment in her tone. "You know you can't do that, the curfew is only eleven, and it's not even a Hogsmeade weekend. Plus, you've got to rest for the game tomorrow,"
Harry tsked, looking over at Ron, who was still smiling at the idea.
"Oh, come on. The game isn't even until two! And I've still got half a bottle of Hangover Remedy. We haven't pulled the cloak out in ages. We could stop by Snape's on our way and get some Pepper Up, too, after traipsing through the cold," he threw in, chuckling at the look on Hermione's face. The streets did tend to dip below freezing at night.
"You two do what you want," she rolled her eyes, deciding it was easier to give in that to fight with them. They were too stubborn anyway. "But count me out,"
"Charlie's home visiting, we get him," Ron mused, playing with a strand of Hermione's hair. "And Fred and George are always game,"
"A good old Weasley clan party," Harry grinned, laying back down on his back. "Sounds like just what I need. Maybe Fred and George can bring something for my detention," he muttered, thinking of all the products they sold and which one would plaster the best look of outrage on Severus' face. He chuckled to himself, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the way the sun felt on his face. The classes might be a lot harder, but it was worth their more leisurely schedule. Seventh years took only a handful of classes, with more time in between to get their studying and practical training done. Theoretically, at least.
A shadow obscured the sun for a moment and Harry opened one eye irritably. It wasn't supposed to rain again until Tuesday. It wasn't a passing cloud, however. He leaned up slightly, following the retreating back of the Potions Master as he made his way towards the edge of the forest.
"What is Snape doing out in the sunlight?" Ron asked moodily, laying back down with Hermione now that the sun was fully shining on them again. She shoved him half-heartedly, blushing slightly and whispering something about him hearing them.
"Probably collecting the ingredients for what he's going to poison me with tomorrow," Harry grumbled, still watching the black-clad figure. He could have sworn he heard a small snort from that direction.
xxxxx
"Ron, stop stomping," Harry chastised in a fierce whisper, leaning over the Marauder's Map as they made their way to the corner of the hallway. Ron grumbled, but adjusted his pace to be a little quieter. "Filch is down that way," he said, pointing to the dark corridor to the left, "So if we go this way we should make it to the statue fine," he finished, tapping the map with his wand and putting it in his back pocket. Ron nodded, pulling the cloak tighter about the two of them as Harry mentioned Filch.
"Mrs. Norris?" he asked, looking around them. Harry shook his head, leading him down the hallway to the statue of the one-eyed witch. Ron kept watch in the corridor as Harry slipped around to the back of the statue.
"Dissendium," he muttered, watching as the hump on her back gave way to expose the now familiar passageway. "Come on," he called softly, watching as Ron materialize as he pulled the cloak off and handed it back to Harry.
He climbed through the hole and slid down to the soft ground, lighting his wand again so that they could see. They began to make their way forward.
"Are they there already?" Harry asked, shrinking his cloak and stuffing it into his back pocket along with the map.
"Should be, yeah," Ron answered, looking around himself, slightly uneasy. "Are there...spiders down here?"
Harry laughed loudly, glad the passage to the castle had sealed itself behind them. "I'm sure, but just as many as in Hogwarts and you don't make that face on the way to class,"
Ron angled a glare at him, "Thanks, Harry," he rolled his eyes, again looking at the walls warily.
"Ron, you're fine. I'll kill all the spiders," Harry chuckled again as Ron nodded once. "Anyway, we're nearly there."
Harry could just see the light seeped through the cracks in the basement floorboards of Honeyduke's. He jumped up to grab the end of the ladder and pull it to the ground with a soft crack, waiting a few seconds for noises before ascending into the cellar.
"Come on," he whispered back down to Ron, holding out a hand to help him up. "I can hear him closing shop upstairs. Let's get out in case he comes down," Ron nodded silently, heading towards the stairs that led to the alley behind the sweet shop.
Once in the street, they relaxed. They'd worn plain robes devoid of their house crest so as not to draw attention to themselves, and they both kept their hoods up, pretending to ward off the chill as they hid Ron's flaming hair and Harry's scar.
They made their way quietly to the Three Broomsticks, they dropped their hoods, looking around for a friendly face. They weren't as afraid of being recognized here, the staff had a don't ask policy when it came to students, preferring to stay out of school business, which worked well for the students. It was a Friday night, and the bar was still busy despite the hour.
"Ayyyy!" They heard a few boisterously raised voices as they walked in and Harry looked around, spotting the three red heads easily among the crowd. He grinned at Ron, making his way towards the table and pulling up two more chairs.
"There they are," Fred started, smiling widely at the two as they sat down.
"They've finally graced us with their presence," George went on, elbowing his twin in the ribs.
"The Quidditch stars of Gryffindor Tower," Fred finished, laughing as he raised his glass in a mock toast.
"Cut it out, you two, they just got here," Charlie shushed them, although he was laughing himself. "Harry, how you been?" He asked, scooting his chair a little further from the twins as they pulled a rather suspicious looking pouch from the inside of their robes.
"Good!" He answered, watching them warily as they stuck their heads together. He shook his head, focusing instead on Charlie. There was no stopping the twins, after all. "Big game tomorrow we're gonna win, and then school's almost over," he shrugged, not having a whole lot to complain about for once.
"Ron didn't say anything about a game," Charlie mock pouted, slinging an arm around Ron's shoulder and pulling him in to muss up his hair. "Maybe I'll come watch, Dumbledore did invite me to sit with him, yunno," he winked at Harry, letting Ron go.
Ron ground his teeth. "Remind me why I invited you lot again?"
"Because Ickle Ronniekins loves and adores his big brothers," George stated, splashing the contents of his mug as he swung his arm.
"I need a drink. Harry?" Ron sighed, calling for a waitress.
"A butterbeer, thanks," Harry nodded, as Ron talked to the young witch.
"And a round of shots for the table!" Fred shouted, draining the last of his cup. Harry laughed. "Well, is this a party or not?" He waggled his eyebrows at Harry, who rolled his eyes slightly, laughing. He had missed this family, his family.
A few hours found them properly pissed and walking back down the street to Honeyduke's, singing Do the Hippogriff louder than they probably should. They dissolved into fits of laughter as Fred hit a high note, causing him to choke and cough as his voice gave way.
"Been fun, mate," Charlie said, swaying slightly as he turned to Harry and pulled him into a tight hug.
"We'll hafta...again sometime," he nodded once solemnly, turning towards the twins and returning a wobbly salute before pulling his Invisibility Cloak over himself and Ron and making their way back into the cellar and through the trapdoor. They stumbled through the underground corridor, laughter bouncing off the dirt walls as they tripped and smudged their jeans.
Harry held a hand to his lips as they got to the castle, trying to focus on the impending darkness as he climbed through, looking for teachers. He waved Ron through, stifling a laugh as the gangly red head fell out of the hole and ended up in a twisted pile on the floor.
"Okay," he whispered, leaning into Ron as he stood. "You take the... Map and I'll take the Cloak," he started, squinting as he tried to arrange his thoughts coherently. "You go back to Gryff'dor Tower and I'll meet ya," he nodded, shoving the map into Ron's hand.
"Where're ya goin'?" The red head asked as he swayed dangerously.
"Dungeons," Harry answered solemnly, nodding. "Snape's...potion," he chuckled once as the words left his mouth.
Ron nodded, a dull spark of recognition in his eyes as he remembered Harry mentioning snagging some Pepper Up potion from Snape's stores.
"Alright, break," Harry cried, laughing as they moved away from each other. He threw the cloak around himself, hoping Ron could at least avoid people since he had the map.
He laid a hand against the wall on his left as he walked, trying to keep his steps steady. He stopped short in front of a suit of armor. "Sorry, sir," he murmured, slowly making his way around it, trying desperately not to run into it. He shook his head. He had drank more than he thought.
Somehow he made it to the dungeons without running into anyone, or anything for that matter, and he slowly opened the door to Snape's classroom, knowing his private stores branched off his office. He closed the door behind him, wincing as it creaked. He took his hood off, leaving the cloak wrapped around his shoulders as he opened the door to the teacher's private office and made his way to where he kept all his extra potions.
"Right, A,C,D,F...L,M," he muttered, fingers dancing along the alphabetized shelves as he looked for the right one. "Ah, P! Pepper Up," he smiled in triumph, pocketing the little bottle.
He turned on the spot, eager to get to his warm bed in the tower, and ran straight into a pajama-clad chest. "Shit," he whispered, barely audible even to his own ears as he staggered backward, swaying dangerously near the shelves of potions as he lost his balance. A strong hand grabbed his arm quickly, steering him away from the fragile bottles. He looked up into the slightly puzzled expression of the Potions Master, realizing he was effectively nothing more than a floating head. He giggled once despite himself.
"Sir," he hiccupped.
Snape raked his eyes over Harry, taking in his ruffled hair and pink cheeks, along with the slightly out of focus gaze now directed somewhere in the vicinity of his own eyes. "You're drunk," he said, amazed.
"Am not," Harry lied indignantly, hiccupping again and cursing slightly. "No booze in the castle, prof'ssor," he said logically, nodding.
"I don't believe you've been in the castle all night for a second," Severus replied coolly, taking the cloak from around Harry's shoulder and ignoring his cry of protest. "Come on," he hooked his hand underneath Harry's elbow and took him through yet another door, this time leading to his private rooms.
"Tea or Coffee?" he asked, laying the cloak over the back of a dark leather couch.
"Is't Irish?" Harry asked, grinning wickedly as he stumbled into the couch and sat down heavily, leaning his hand against the arm.
"No," Snape replied sharply, throwing him a glare. "Tea it is," he said briskly, walking away to the kitchen. "Out with Weasley, I suppose?" He called, setting out the kettle and grabbing two cups from the cupboard.
"Mmm," Harry hummed, suddenly in the kitchen with him and wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. He trailed sloppy kisses along the back of Snape's neck, working his way around to his jaw line and turning him in his arms so he could reach his lips.
"Hi," he breathed, grinning stupidly as he leaned in to kiss Snape full on the lips.
"Mmph," Snape protested after a second, pushing Harry from him. "No, Potter. We are not doing this while you are...in such a state," he waved at Harry's disheveled appearance, much to the dismay if the boy.
"Well, tha's no fair," he protested, trying to get a hold of Snape's waist again.
"I said no," he argued, pointing back to the living room and smirking slightly despite himself as Harry's shoulders dropped and he made his way back to the couch. He laid down across the leather lazily, a foot dangling on the carpet as Snape watched, waiting for the kettle to heat up.
"If you get sick, I'll kick you out," he warned, leaning against the door frame.
Harry scoffed, waving the comment away as he rolled over, nearly falling off the couch. Snape rolled his eyes as the kettle whistled, leaving his vigil to go add the teabags and cool off the mugs, knowing full well that the brat would burn his mouth if he didn't.
"Here," he said, placing the less filled cup on the end table nearest to Harry's head. "Drink," he instructed, scratching lightly at the top of his head. Harry lifted his head, wiping at his bleary eyes behind his glasses as he sat up, leaning most of his body against the arm rest as he sipped at his tea. "Mmm," he hummed, playing with his tongue along the edge of his cup before setting it back down on the table with a harsh clink.
Snape winced slightly at the sound, keeping a careful eye on the other man as he slouched into the back of the sofa, mumbling quietly to himself as his eyes started to slide shut.
"Oh, no. No, no, no," Snape started, quickly placing his teacup next to Harry's as he pulled the other wizard to his feet. "You are not falling asleep on my couch, Potter. I'll escort you back to your dormitory and you can leave me out of your hangover," he chided, taking Harry by the arm and covering him with the cloak once more, before guiding him out into the hallway.
"I 's comfy," Harry whined, stumbling over his own feet, not missing the glare that Snape sent his way. He had a feeling the Invisibility Cloak wasn't working on Severus.
"Sh," Snape whispered harshly, holding a finger to his lips. "I refuse to have people thinking I am talking to myself," he said coldly, towing Harry along as they made their way upstairs. Harry grumbled but complied, secretly thankful Snape was there to help him.
They stopped outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry taking his cloak off once more. She tsked slightly but said nothing.
"I trust you can still remember the password?" Snape asked, turning to Harry. Harry scoffed, nodding once. "Good. Get some rest," He said, tone slightly softer than usual. He kissed the top of his head, then looked him in the eyes.
"And Harry?" Harry looked up at him, slightly surprised. He rarely addressed him by his first name. "Do try and win tomorrow," Some unnamed emotion was shining in the dark eyes, but before Harry could try and figure it out he was gone. "Double detention tomorrow," he called over his shoulder from the darkness.
"Hmph," he mused to himself, turning back to the portrait. "Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Harry managed, feeling his head spin as the portrait swung forward on its hinges. He barely made it up to his four-poster, placing the small vial of Pepper Up on his nightstand before passing out, glasses on and fully clothed.
