Chapter 10: Certain going-ons at the Ministry
"Hmmm… Interesting… Yet Severus is one of Albus's spies."
"Yes. I would have thought that he would have done something to stop it."
Lucius Malfoy sat before the Minister of Magic's desk, hands folded neatly in his lap although they longed to rub an aching Dark Mark.
"Tell me everything again," Fudge said, leaning forward in his chair. "And in much less detail."
Malfoy daintily wet his lips. "The Dark Lord somehow found out that Snape had been one of Dumbledore's spies," he said uneasily, for he knew very well who had imparted that information to Voldemort. "And he was extremely suspicious when Snape came to rejoin him. I do not know whether Snape came as Dumbledore's spy or as a true Death Eater, but he did have to beg profusely for his forgiveness. Since then, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has taken every chance to test his loyalty. One of those times was at this summer's attack, when he required him to kill Percy Weasley. Severus was the one to kill the Scandinavian Minister, and at least ordered to kill Weasley. I do not know whether he followed through with the orders because he wanted to justify his loyalty, therefore securing his position as a spy, or because he was a faithful Death Eater."
Fudge shook his head, confused. "I shall ask Dumbledore what his spies say on the matter- which will be interesting, no doubt, as Snape is one of them."
The two men sat in tacit silence, and in a minute or two, Fudge looked up again and said, "That is enough. Thank you greatly, Lucius. Your information is always valuable."
Lucius Malfoy made haste to leave the Minister's office; once he was out of sight, he smirked in clever relief. He had managed to worm his way once more out of sharing any important information with Fudge. He had gathered much sharable information from Fudge, and kept from telling him about the trick that Voldemort had up his sleeve. And, in the process, he had managed to tattle on the spying fool Snape, as well (although Malfoy had spoken truly when he said that he didn't know whether Snape was a true Death Eater or not). That cleared that matter up.
Ah, thought Malfoy. The life of a double spy can be wonderfully rewarding when you are successful…
How he couldn't wait to tell his master.
"Do you still have the aging potion we finished over the summer?" Snape asked Harry, as he continued to tutor him in the making of a skin-thickening potion.
"Yes, it's in my trunk."
"Good then. I think it is fit enough to turn in next week." Snape watched Harry take out the crushed Runespoor scales and measure some out for the potion. "No, no, no, Potter," Snape sighed, taking the paraphernalia and doing it himself. "Runespoor ingredients are always measured out in groups of three. To add on fourth of a dren to the potion, you must measure three individual twelfths and add each separately." Snape demonstrated by pouring the powder into three different containers and adding each to the potion. "There now. See the potion fizz in the right color?"
"Oh… yes… Hey, I understand!" Harry exclaimed, stirring the purple concotion softly. He carefully meausured out a Runespoor heartstring, cut it in thirds, and then added it.
Snape let out his breath. "Finally. I thought you were too lazy-Gryffindored to have enough brains to do this. But you seem to be working it out well enough."
Harry looked up in indignation. "Gryffindors aren't lazy!" Two hedgehog quills spilt into the potion as he said this, and the potion bubbled furiously.
Snape furrowed his brow, muttering about Gryffindors being clumsy, not lazy, and peered into the cauldron. He looked back up with a smile playing on his lips.
Harry glanced at his textbook, and saw that the potion's recipe called for two hedgehog quills after the Runespoor heartstrings. Simultaneously, both Harry and Snape burst out laughing.
After a couple seconds, they calmed down again, and Snape looked into the potion. "Remarkable intuition, Harry," he chuckled sarcastically. "Now just add the foxglove petals and you're done…"
Harry dropped in a few petals and swirled the mixture around to calm the bubbling. When it did, Snape dipped in a spoon and extraxted a bit of the potion.
"Give me your hand, Potter," he said, and let a little of the potion drip onto Harry's hand. His skin began to grow warm and thicken.
"A tad too strong, Potter," Snape said, scowling a bit, "But certainly an improvement from your last potion."
Harry chuckled; he had tried to make this potion before, and it had burned away his skin instead of thickening it.
Suddenly, Snape stiffened, grasping his left arm and rubbing it.
"I need to go now. Clean this all up, bottle the potion, and tell Professor Dumbledore that I'll be back sometime." With a strange quickness, Snape sprinted out of the classroom.
Harry frowned and narrowed his eyes, looking at the door that Snape had carelessly left open. What could have been so urgent? He got up and looked out the door, curious as to where his father had gone. He was very surprised as Snape's office door flew open and Snape dashed out it, wearing an ash-colored robe instead of his favorite black one.
Harry sighed and turned back to the clutter of ingredients, systematically jarring them all up again and putting them away- taking great care with the fine ingredients that Snape had bought him in Diagon Alley. He stirred the potion a bit more and spooned it into a flask, causing sweet-smelling fumes to rise up and cloud his face.
When he finished, Harry left the dungeons with his potion and ingredients in tow.
The rest of the day passed without much significant event. Harry never did learn exactly why Snape had ran out of the room so suddenly; though he had his strong suspicions, after seeing him rub his left arm like that. The next few days, he learned more about potions; more than he had ever learned before. He got to know Snape much better, as well- primarly that he was obsessed with potions. In fact, by the time September rolled around, they were on pretty good terms with each other. Harry began to pick up the liking for potion-making, and he spent more and more time in the smug dungeons with his father. Snape mostly called Harry, "Harry," but when he was particularily angry (which was not that rare) he called him "Potter."
Finally, it was September first- the day that the other students would come. Harry paced around the 5th year's dorm, which he had finally gotten around to straightening… it was 9:00, and the Hogwarts Express should have been leaving right then.
Two hours later, Harry was still pacing around his room. He was very, very restless about seeing his friends again.
One hour after that, he finally sprinted down the stairs, through the Fat Lady's portrait, down numerous staircases, through numerous passageways, and finally to the entrance hall where he resumed his pacing.
When Professor McGonagall called him to lunch, he reluctantly came, checking behind his back every minute to see when the door would open.
"I take it you are very excited to see your friends, Harry?" Dumbledore said, watching his eagerness amusedly.
"Yes, sir…" Harry said distractedly, looking once more to see if the door showed any signs of people moving behind it. "Who is the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I convinced Professor Lupin to come and teach only yesterday. He completely refused to come until I told him that no one else would. He is arriving on the train tonight with the stu-"
Harry dropped his spoon in his bowl of soup. "Professor Lupin's coming on the train, too?" He said in surprise. Before any of the professors had a chance to say anything, Harry ran back to the entrance hall and began to pace again.
Five hours later, to all the Professors' amazement, Harry was still pacing restlessly. When he heard a faint squeaking sound, he stopped, and, after listening carefully, ran outside.
Sure enough, the little horseless carriages were trundling up toward him. Harry practically leapt for joy, and ran out into the rain to find Ron and Hermione.
Unfortunately, although Harry craned his neck over dozens of carriages, he failed to find any trace of Ron or Hermione, but he did get to say hi to Neville, Dean, Ginny and Parvati- all of whom were very confused as to why Snape had run out to say hi to them.
Finally, Harry did catch up with Ron and Hermione in the entrance hall. In fact, he did surprise them quite a bit when he ran up to meet them.
After the initial shock of having a Snape-like character run up and hug you, Ron and Hermione realized that it was just Harry and relaxed. "Hi, Harry…"
"Ron, Hermione, I've been waiting for you all day!"
Smiling, Hermione said, "We were looking for you all over on the train! We didn't know where you had gone! How did you get here?"
"I came with Snape, of course!" Ron scowled only slightly at the word, "Snape."
"Harry- I just, well, back at Diagon Alley before Snape hauled you off, I was going to say, well, I'm really sorry about the time before when I was being so suspicious of you."
Harry furrowed his eyes and tried to remember that day a month ago. "Oh, that… That's alright! I would have done that if I were you." Ron was a bit taken aback by Harry's prompt forgiveness.
They finally got to the Great Hall and went to sit down at the Gryffindor Table. Harry did attract a few stares from the Gryffindors and some Slytherins.
"Did you get to come to Percy's funeral?" Hermione spoke up. "We didn't see you there."
"Percy's funeral!?" Harry exclaimed. "When was it?"
"5th of August-"
"Oh, whoa! I'm so sorry I didn't come! Snape was too much of a git to let me go anywhere, and I didn't even know when it was."
Ron sighed uncomfortably. "Harry- well, I hope Snape wasn't to bad this summer?"
Harry scowled. "He was not being very nice when we were at his house. But he got a lot better when we came to Hogwarts… Perhaps it was because Dumbledore was around? I don't know… But, you know how he's obsessed with potions?" Ron and Hermione nodded. "So he dragged me down there every day to make some sort of potion. But he's alright other than that." Harry caught Snape's eye at the head table and smiled a broad, mischievous smile.
Ron glanced uneasily at Hermione, and then said, "Um, Harry, tone it down just a bit, because- well, you really do look like Snape…"
Harry laughed. "Oh- sorry." He pulled his hair back into a ponytail, and he suddenly looked a lot more like he did before.
Ron relaxed. "Thanks. That's much better."
They all quieted down when the Professor McGonagall opened the great doors and processed in with the 1st years following her nervously.
They filed up in a line at the front of the room, and McGonagall looked toward the sorting hat, which began singing:
I am Hogwart's own Sorting Hat,
Passed down from days far past;
Since I was sewn on Godric's head
Every year I'm meant to last.
I may sort you to Slytherin,
Who liked the cunning kind;
He wants me to choose the ones
With a quick and clever mind.
Or maybe to old Ravenclaw,
Who was, also, quite smart
But in a way that persistence
And duty were her part.
Hufflepuff may fit you well
If you're true and faithful-
Fair Helga picked the ones who were
Dilligent and never hateful.
I will see all that you are,
And what's in that head of yours,
And sort you all to your own houses:
Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors.
All the students and teachers exploded into applause for the Sorting Hat's yearly song. The first years were still looking dubiously at the hat when McGonagall started calling there names up to be sorted.
At the end of the sorting, which had bored most of the fifth years tremendously, Gryffindor had eight new first years. Hermione, who had been made the new Prefect, proudly showed them the way to the Fat Lady and told them the password (which was back to Fortuna Major, thanks to Urania's incredible originality.)
Several weeks later, when the students had pretty much gotten used to Harry the way he was, the Ministry was having revelations of its own.
Mr. Ellenbogen had just arrived back at the ministry from Hogwarts with some interesting news.
"Did you get hold of Rousseau?" Cornelius Fudge asked his assistant impatiently. (a/n: "Rousseau" is another one of Dumbledore's spies.)
"Yes, but he was too busy to come. However, I spoke to him briefly, and he confirmed Lucius's story almost exactly." Mr. Ellenbogen fidgeted with his fingers excitedly, for he had much more interesting news than that.
"Anything else?" Sighed the Minister.
"Yes!" Mr. Ellenbogen took out his wand and pointed it at his temple. "Memoria," he said, and Fudge looked up, a bit more interested. A picture shone down on a piece of parchment below him, and it focused and solidified.
It was a memogram of a Hogwarts corridor, with a couple students walking together on one side, and the Potions Master sauntering down the other side.
"What about this picture?" Fudge asked.
"Look!" Mr. Ellenbogen pointed to Snape's face.
Fudge frowned and looked at the picture, then reached into a file in his desk and brought out another picture.
"Oh my… I think we've found the one…" The minister stared at the too identical scars, slashing across the faces. "But we can never tell for sure. Send some Aurors to Hogwarts and bring him here," he said profoundly.
"Yes, sir," said Mr. Ellenbogen, smiling a little devishly, and strode out of the Minister of Magic's office.
Extra Tidbit of the Day: Fred and George Weasley's Ultimate Ton Tongue Twisters!
Several Severus Snapes Severed the Seventy Severe Sevres.
Potter Poured his Potent Potion Portion down the Potion-Pouring Pothole.