Many thanks to everyone that reviewed that last chapter! Thanks for reading! This chapter is another where I take a few liberties with things that don't exist in the books, but I felt it was a good addition XD and worry not! Snape does keep his promise this chapter and (!) The detentions will finally end!
Now on with the chapter!
Chapter Six: Healing Balms
The next night, there was a work station all set up with ingredients and cauldron, and once he had Snape's attention, Harry demanded, "What's this one do then?"
"It creates a highly specialized balm which can soothe nearly any sort of skin irritation or damage. It is normally used third and fourth degree burns." Snape explained, "It is one of the strongest healing balms in existence."
That didn't seem to fit in with the continuity of the previous detentions; though there had been that fire safety detention...maybe it fit in that way? No, that didn't really make sense.
Snape was up to something, this had to be especially true because Snape said he'd stop hiding things tonight. There was a reason for this, just as there had been a reason for everything else Snape had done. Besides, Slytherins couldn't do anything simply; they worked in elaborate plots and spoke in long, egomaniacal monologues. Odd sort, Slytherins.
Harry frowned and approached the workbench, "So why am I brewing this?"
"For your detention," Snape replied blandly. The world would surely end if the man ever answered a question directly, Harry was sure.
"Ha, ha," Harry scoffed, "I get it, I'll stop asking questions. At least this one doesn't call for my blood."
Snape snorted and agreed, "Quite."
Harry studied the directions of the potion and set about preparing the ingredients, but when he touched the first one his skin began to tingle unpleasantly and when Harry drew his hand back he discovered it was bright red. Harry frowned and reached out to touch it again, testing…the longer Harry held his hand in place the more unpleasant the tingling grew and the redder his hand became.
Harry decided he'd return to that later and reached for another ingredient, a curious brown root shaped like a human foot, but when he touched that one sharp pain flew through Harry's hand and he immediately snapped his hand back to discover that where contact had been made black bruises were now forming. Wide-eyed Harry stared at his hand in horror.
"Problem Potter?"
"I think you forgot to give me gloves sir," Harry replied, emphasis on the 'forgot,' the bastard probably planned it this way.
"There is nothing inherently dangerous about any of those ingredients, Potter," Snape replied blandly, face slack with some odd emotion that Harry couldn't make sense of when it was attached to Snape's head.
"Then what's all this?" Harry demanded, holding out his black and red hand for Snape to examine.
"Which ingredient gave you that reaction?" Snape asked, rising to come join Harry by the worktable. Harry pointed them out and Snape nodded slowly, before asking, "Touch all the rest."
"Why?" Harry demanded, "Are they going to hurt me too?"
"There's only one way to find out," Snape replied, "again there is nothing inherently dangerous about these ingredients, they are in fact used in a potion which heals skin."
Frowning Harry set about tapping each and every ingredient, each one giving a different and painful or unpleasant reaction. Snape watched this all happen in silence before he reached down and tapped them as well, garnering the same reactions from them that Harry did.
"What…?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing in confusion, "I don't understand…why…?"
"There is a dominant gene in most magical families," Snape said blandly, face looking like he'd sucked on a moldy lemon, "which causes an odd allergy, a skin allergy, to a certain class of magical plants. It has been largely bred out, but there are still some families where it still exists such as the Blacks, the Parkinsons, the Diggorys, the Bells, and the Princes."
Well, that didn't mean all that much to Harry, really. He didn't know of any pureblood families but the Weasleys and Malfoys…
"The ingredients of this potion," Snape continued, "consists entirely of plants from that class."
"So I'm allergic to them?" Harry asked, "So what?"
"Neither James Potter nor Lily Evans had the allergy, and as I stated before, the allergy is a dominant trait. In order for you to have it, one of your parents must have," Snape replied, but it looked like he was now trying to spit up the moldy lemon he'd been sucking on before.
"But…but that doesn't make any sense," Harry said slowly, "who else could I have gotten it from?"
Snape coughed, and his voice sounded terribly hoarse when he answered, "Your real father."
Harry's heart began pounding in his chest, even though the accusation hadn't really begun to sink into his head, "But James Potter is my real father."
Snape laughed and the sound was so awful that it made chills run down Harry's spine and said, "I think I'm more qualified to make claims about your parentage than you are, Potter."
And Snape was right, Harry realized with dawning horror, "That's what all of this has been about! You saw that first night, and you didn't believe—That's why you wouldn't show me!"
"Ah, but Mr. Potter," Snape said, "You don't even know what it is that I couldn't accept as being true."
Another chill spun down Harry's spine and gave him goosebumps, "You," Harry's mouth felt dry and his licked his lips, "you said that you would tell me…tonight."
"So I did," Snape agreed, easily, as though it was terribly magnanimous of him to share this terrible information. "You recall, I mentioned a few families earlier which carries the gene—"
"Yeah," Harry replied, "The Diggorys and the Bells and…"
"The Princes," Snape added in easily. "Do you know anything about the Princes?"
"No, sir, and I've never been all that good at putting puzzles together sir," Harry yelled, frustrated with everything that was being implied here. "I don't know what you're trying to spell out to me but maybe you should stop pussyfooting around and just get at it!"
"Very well, Potter," Snape said, "You've seen that I possess the allergy as well, and that is because I inherited it from my mother, whose maiden name was Prince."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Harry demanded, voice going a bit high at the end which caused his angry flush to deepen.
"It has to do with everything," Snape replied, each word holding a harsh and hidden meaning that made everything was suddenly clear in a horrifying way.
Looking more cruel and twisted than Harry had ever seen before, Snape advanced on Harry looking dangerous…like Harry imagined a serial killer would look just before killing his next victim. Kind of apt, really, since Snape was a serial killer of happiness and he was poised to destroy all of Harry's sense of well-being.
Harry wondered if this made Snape some sort of dementor.
Probably just demented…
As Snape came forward, he reached into his sleeve, the one which Harry knew hid his wand and his eyes widened in confusion…just confusion, there was no way he was scared of Snape. But, there was no reason he shouldn't be scared of whatever it was Snape had up his sleeve.
It was then that Snape withdrew a folded parchment; Harry could recognize the purplish tint of the Veritas potion he'd brewed the night before. He knew, with dawning horror, that it was the parchment which they'd also used in the familial potion after dipping it in the truth potion; he knew what Snape was going to show him.
With a rush filling his head till he was dizzy and unable to make sense of any of the sounds coming from Snape's mouth, Harry slowly backed away. His uneasy and clumsy steps lining up with the heavy thuds of his heart, and Snape held the unfolded purple parchment out to him.
Harry stared blankly at it, the words blurring into fuzzy shapes of nothingness, and his eyes kept straying to Snape's stained fingers holding it.
He couldn't read the words.
He couldn't hear anything Snape was saying.
It didn't matter.
Snape had already told him, and his actions proved what would be on the purple parchment, but it couldn't be right.
Harry snatched the parchment from Snape's fingers, feeling it crunch into the palm of his hand.
"You're lying," Harry yelled, but he could only barely hear it over the noise…the awful noise of his own thoughts and terror. "You're lying!"
There was only one thing left to do, Harry turned heel and ran as fast as he could.
Harry expected to hear Snape's laughter following after him, amusement from Harry's horror, but all Harry could hear was his heart and the pound of his feet on the stone as he ran as fast as he could from what he'd seen and heard.
Harry didn't stop until he'd arrived back in the Gryffindor common room, and ducked inside and leaned against the wall, panting…it was then that he slowly became aware of the parchment he still held in his hand and the fact that the common room was still mostly full.
He couldn't handle this right now, and he certainly wanted stop handling the damning parchment as quickly as possible.
Harry quickly moved toward the dormitory stairs, pointedly ignoring his housemates concerned calls. After all, it was clear he'd dodged out of detention early-not to mention his panic, it was clear to everyone that something was up and Harry needed to get rid of the damn parchment before anyone nosy could get close enough to read it.
Harry pounded up the stairs as quickly as he could, and entered the third year dormitory.
"Harry?" Neville asked in shock, watching Harry in confusion.
"Neville, please, just get out," Harry said, his voice sounded shaky and faint. He cleared his throat and added, voice more normal this time, "Please, Nev, I just need to be alone for a bit."
"Harry!" Hermione and Ron cried at the same time arriving in the dorm right behind him, and Harry stumbled away in shock, eyes wide open and he clenched his fist even tighter around the parchment, no, no, no…
"Get out! Get out! Get out!" Harry said, and he sounded like a hysterical little first year because of how high his voice had gone that time it broke and he pulled his hands up to his head, trying to make things normal and right again, but that brought the parchment into his range of vision. With a strangled scream Harry threw it and it landed just in front of Ron and Hermione who looked incredibly concerned and startled, not to mention poor Neville who liked like he'd rather be dealing with Sna—no, no, no…
"Harry," Hermione said softly, as though she were speaking to a wild dragon, "are you okay?"
"Please, just go," Harry said, "I need to be alone."
Hermione, warily and slowly, knelt down, reaching for the parchment correctly guessing that it was the cause of Harry's hysteria, but not realizing how much Harry didn't want her to see. Her fingers crept closer, testing, and Harry's heart jolted in deep panic.
The parchment lit into a large burst of high blue and white flames and disappeared into a curl of yellow...not even ash remained. Harry's legs wobbled beneath him and he collapsed down onto the hard floor, his head jarring a bit at the impact.
Hermione was whimpering softly, holding her hand close and Harry couldn't make his eyes bring her or anything else into focus.
"Get out," Harry whispered, "please, just get out."
This time they listened, Hermione left first and Neville followed quickly, Ron lingered for a moment before giving up and running after them. Harry, exhausted, crawled over to his chest and pulled out the photo album Hagrid had given him a little over a year ago and retreated into his bed, trembling as he closed the curtains around him.
Harry's attempt at lumos failed disastrously the first few times he tried to cast it, flames erupted from his wand in white-hot bursts before dissipating into nothing once more. Then his wand lit in a flickering white flame which gave off no heat nor was destructive…it was close enough to correct for Harry to reach for the photo album and stare at the pictures of his mother and father, his real father. He and James Potter looked like twins; except for the age difference and the eyes…they had to be related, there was no other explanation.
James Potter was his father.
James Potter was his father.
James Potter was his father.
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