Chapter 4: The lair of the Dungeon bat
Notes:
Hey wonderful people!
Quick note, I didn't make up the colour meanings. I stole them from the internet. The vows were adapted from some quote said by someone I have forgotten the name of. I will add a bibliography later. Sorry for plagiarizing!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 4
The lair of the Dungeon bat
The walk to the dungeons felt impossibly long and Snape's long strides did nothing to help matters. She struggled to keep up.
She didn't want to keep up.
The corridors were mercifully empty. It appeared most of the castle had gone to bed. It must be late but she didn't have her watch with her and, as so often happened with those raised by muggles, she didn't think to use magic. Hermione and Ron were probably wondering where she was. Maybe they were worried? Harry certainly was.
They reached a portrait of a man who Harry suspected was Salazar Snape. A snake was wound lazily around Salazar's neck.
"Good evening Severus" the man in the portrait spoke.
Snape nodded curtly "Salazar." Snape said in answer.
Harry wondered for a moment if this was the password but the portrait didn't swing forward and her suspicions as to the man's identity was confirmed.
Man and snake eyed her curiously. "Who iss young mistress we wonders?" the snake hissed. "She iss not of our houssse." Salazar, and the snake – if it were possible – looked at her red and gold robes with scathing distaste.
"Good evening." Harry replied in parseltongue.
"She sspeaks!" the snake said in wonderment. Salazar's eyes widened too, the distaste vanishing.
Snape shot Harry a glare and she stepped back involuntarily.
"Hellebore" Snape said both for the portrait and Harry's benefit. The portrait swung forward and Snape swept into his chambers followed, reluctantly, by Harry.
The room was much like Gryffindor common room but the rugs, couches and curtains had green and silver accents instead of red and gold.
There was the same large fireplace and even a chess set towards the centre of the back wall that appeared to be half way through a game. The wall that the study desk was set against, had a large window that looked out into the murky waters of the lake and long strands of green seaweed swept against the window. Harry imagined she saw a tentacle of the giant squid swat lazily past.
Everything was neat but not impeccably so. It did not feel clinical like her aunt's house.
It was cold though and she was tempted to move towards the flickering light of the fire. She stayed put. She watched Snape as he placed his outermost cloak on a hook before moving to a cabinet from which he removed a crystal decanter of fire-whiskey and a glass. He filled the glass and downed its contents before refilling it.
He cradled the glass in his hands and moved over to the fire, staring blankly into the flickering flame.
Harry noticed her trunk was set against one of the four doors that led off from this lounge, study and kitchen area. The kitchen was small and some objects on the counters surface were unidentifiable to Harry. The first door was, of course the portrait they had used to enter the chambers. She could see a library beyond the second. Were the other two bedrooms? Or was one perhaps a private potions laboratory? Perhaps it was neither.
She wrapped her arms around herself and her teeth started to chatter. Neither was a reaction to the cold. Snape was still staring resolutely at the fire. Harry was too frightened in this unknown situation to move in case she incurred his wrath. She wanted her four-poster bed. And Hermione - to tell her that everything was going to be alright.
The minutes stretched on in silence until Harry could hardly bare standing any longer, swaying in exhaustion.
"S-sir?"
Snape didn't react.
She spoke louder this time: "Professor?"
Snape turned to her and his eyes darkened angrily. "What Potter? Did you think up some other ingenious way you could ruin my life?" he hissed.
She winced but her fists clenched in anger. She didn't want this and her life was ruined too. "I wanted to know where I would be sleeping." She said glaring at him insolently.
"You could sleep in the broom cupboard for all I care Potter." Snape spat.
She flinched and stepped backwards. Her dark, cramped cupboard had always induced an irrational terror in Harry, and now Snape was threatening the same sleeping arrangements. Did he know? Was he intending to use her fear as punishment?
Snape seemed to falter at her reaction. "That was uncalled for. I apologise Potter."
Harry almost fell over in surprise. Snape apologising?
"The bedroom is through that door." He pointed to the door Harry's trunk was set against.
She pushed it open without asking, desperate for escape, and lugged her trunk inside. It required energy that she scarcely possessed. She swung the door shut and rested her back against the wall, sinking to the floor, flagging from her combined hunger and exhaustion, and fighting back the tears that stung her eyes.
She glanced around the large room, her vision blurred from unshed tears and sucked in deep, calming breaths. A warm rug covered most of the floor space and there was a second smaller rug in front of the fire upon which two single seated couches and one double seated couch sat. There was a tall chest of drawers that Harry assumed held clothing. The majority of the rest of the floor space was taken up by a large, finely carved, four-poster-bed. Harry noticed a door and she pulled herself up into a standing position.
She went through the door to find a bathroom. The floor looked like a pebbled riverbed but felt as smooth as glass. Ripples formed underfoot as she moved; it was mesmerising. There was a sunken bath, set into the floor that could have been called a small swimming pool. Harry wondered idly how much water it could hold – and how much water it wasted. There was a drought, wasn't there?
The dungeon bat's quarters were far better furnished than she had expected. There were certainly none coffins or shackles that many students would have expected in the chambers of their dour potions professor.
The shower was similarly sized with jets taking up almost its entire ceiling. There didn't appear to be a tap to start it. Perhaps you started it with magic?
There were thick, fluffy white towels that hung from rails attached to the tiled black walls.
The toilet was against the wall with the door she had just walked through and the basin sat next to the shower. There were two toothbrushes in a cup on the countertop. One was hers.
A hand towel lay in a crumpled heap on the counter, and without thought, she picked it up, and neatly folded it.
She heard a door opening and Snape walked into the bedroom. Only one bedroom then. Her stomach clenched; she would have to share a bed with the potions master. She would rather sleep on the floor.
"Do you plan to shower now or tomorrow morning?" Snape's smooth voice asked.
"Now, sir." Her eyes were fixed on the floor.
"Get to it then, Potter. I will shower once you are done."
Harry removed clothes from her trunk and moved into the bathroom. She remembered the shower didn't have taps and steeled herself to ask the question.
"How do I turn on the shower?" Snape glowered at her.
In her nervousness, she stammered "I-is there an incantation or-?"
Snape sighed heavily as if exasperated. "It turns on as you enter. It reads your intentions and adjusts itself to the temperature you desire." he said coolly. It was clear that the brat hadn't even tried to get the shower to work.
XXX
Harry stood under a steady stream of warm water. Her long hair clung to her lower back, just above the dimples at either side of the base of her spine. Water formed rivulets from the end of collective strands and streamed to fit the contours of her body. She washed herself slowly, dreading the moment she had to get out.
The water turned off, she supposed she had subconsciously asked it to. She stepped out onto a grey mat whose long, thick fibres cushioned her feet and she wrapped herself in one of the fluffy white towels.
She dried her hair with a drying charm and dressed herself in shorts and one of Dudley's over-sized, long sleeved shirts that hid the bruising before stepping back into the bedroom. The longer shirt allowed her to drop most of her glamours, just not the ones on her face. This was more out of habit than anything else. She had once read that glamours required a constant source of magic to sustain, and this could exhaust the wearer. She had never experienced any sort of drain. She had been using glamours of-a-sort long before she came to Hogwarts, but that had been accidental magic. She didn't want to risk sustaining them since that discovery, so she would drop them whenever possible.
Leaving the bathroom, she saw Snape sat on a couch by the fire, reading. "I've transfigured a chest of drawers for you to use. I advise you unpack now." Snape spoke as he swept into the bathroom and slammed the door. A moment later the shower started.
Harry breathed deeply and moved to unpack.
X
When Snape entered the bathroom, he expected to find it in a state of disarray. At the very least, he had expected Potter to leave the floor damp. No one would have been able to detect the presence of a person in the room. If anything, Potter had left it neater than she had found it. He could have sworn that he'd left a towel on the counter this morning
Snape cursed. He'd almost hoped he would be able to fault her. He certainly had a steaming heap of anger to rid himself of, he would have preferred to have a reason to vent his frustrations.
He was grateful too, he wouldn't have to train her to keep things clean. He liked his quarters to remain tidy and wouldn't tolerate mess from Potter. He had assumed, after years of having to decipher her untidy scrawl, that the girl would be as messy as her handwriting. It appeared his assumption was wrong. Thank Salazar for that.
He was bonded to Harriet bloody Potter. The fates were obnoxiously cruel, but when had they ever been kind to Snape?
Snape thought about the bonding ceremony as he stepped under the searing jets of water. Potter had been ghostly pale and her hands shook violently when he took them into his.
He wondered if she shook out of fear; he wondered what – or who – she was afraid of. Perhaps it was him?
"Probably." He snorted aloud to himself.
The ribbon colours were interesting. They were supposed to be representative of one's soul and their joining, the intertwining of souls.
Black and Silver were Snape's. Black represented many things: power, elegance, formality, evil, and mystery. Fitting Snape thought.
Silver represented dignity, self-control, responsibility, organization, insight and wisdom but also loneliness, insincerity, and deceptiveness. Rather accurate if Snape did say so himself.
Potter's were intriguing: gold and green. Gold represented love, compassion, courage, passion, and wisdom. Dumbledore might agree but Snape certainly didn't.
It was the green that interested Snape. It had looked alive, he'd never seen anything quite like it, at least not in a bonding ceremony. It had reminded him painfully of Lily's eyes. Maybe her soul was like her mother's then.
Green classically represented renewal and growth which didn't fit.
Snape shut off the water in thinking it and stepped out to dry himself.
He thought about the Potter brat being in his chambers and his anger swelled. She had even flaunted her Parseltongue to Salazar which had infuriated him. She was conceited, just like her father.
In an even worse mood than the one he had entered with, Snape exited the bathroom.
Potter, it seemed had taken his advice. She was placing the last stack of clothes in the drawer when Snape entered.
She turned, startled at the sound of the opening door and looked at him, wide eyed.
"Continue Potter. I doubt I have ever seen you follow an instruction before."
Anger flashed through her eyed but she held her tongue.
Snape smirked - she looked scared - good. The fire whiskey had definitely taken effect.
He moved around the room, collecting his book and preparing for bed.
"I'll take the floor." Snape heard Potter say.
"The bed is large enough for two." Snape answered.
"Your virtue is safe from me, Potter. I can assure you that." Snape said coolly, seeing that Potter had stiffened at his words.
"I'll take the floor" Potter repeated stubbornly.
Snape stalked to the chest of drawers and removed a blanket which he threw at Potter. Moving to the bed, Snape removed a pillow which he tossed on the floor.
Potter stooped silently to pick it up and then turned as if she intended to leave the room.
"You will remain in this room. This fireplace is not connected to the floo, but the others are. If anyone floos in, they'll see you and the ministry will have grounds to annul the bond." He said silkily. This in no way disguised the anger in his voice. Did Potter intend to make him look like he spared no regard for his bond mate? Had she no sense of propriety?
"Let them." Potter replied insolently.
Snape saw red. He grabbed Potter by her upper arm – she flinched.
He would give her a reason to flinch, Snape thought venomously. He shoved her to the ground and heard a crack as Potter's left arm collided with the stone floor.
She gasped. She didn't cry out so the crack wasn't a bone. Snape sighed in relief, it was probably just the fire crackling in the grate. He immediately felt guilty but he would not apologise. Potter needed to know there were consequences for her actions here. She had probably never been hit in her life before.
Snape vowed he would never do it again. His actions had been harsh but hopefully she would think more carefully the next time she intended to show insolence.
Lily's red hair obscured her face and her breathing was laboured as if she was in pain.
"It's just a bruise Potter, stop whinging." Snape snarled. Of course she would overplay it.
"Yes sir." The answer came. There was fear in that voice. Snape felt a twinge of guilt.
"The floor is cold. I advise you sleep in the bed if you don't want Pneumonia." Snape said, more gently this time.
Potter nodded behind her curtain of hair and stood, pushing herself up with her right arm. Her left arm was cradled against her chest.
She pulled back the sheets of the bed and got in, her face still hidden. She lay so close to the edge, it was as if she was about to fall off.
Snape extinguished the lights before slipping into bed, his head pounding. It was a long while before he was able to sleep.
Notes:
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