Alrighty! I posted this chapter before going off to the gym and now I'm back to set this chapter up. Now, it's slightly shorter than normal but it is really only two scenes, both of which are very important. The majority of you decided that I should keep the...conversation between Voldemort and Severus Snape a secret. I have done exactly that; there are some obvious things that "went down," but as you will see in this chapter, exactly how much Severus is trusted/knows is still in question.

Oh, and did anything secret get discussed? Why, how would I know? I - well, obviously I know, but that's not the p - you know what? Shut up. I'm trying to be coy.

Anyway, go ahead and enjoy the chapter. I'll have some extra commentary at the end.

I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 11: Nothing good on a Monday

"Silence," Professor Snape drawled, using one hand to elegantly lean on his desk. Of course, there was no reason to say such since none of the first years felt the need to irritate Professor Snape on a Monday. Harry's eyes met Professor Snape's as the wizard motioned to a desk on the left side of the room. Harry ducked his head and headed over to the desk, setting his bag onto the table. Soon after, Daphne Greengrass joined him with a small smile.

"Hey, Harry," Daphne whispered, careful not to draw Snape's attention. The girl sat her bag down next to her chair and retrieved her potion's kit.

Harry nodded swiftly to her with a small smile, keeping his eyes on Professor Snape. The man…was he limping? This was the first time he had really seen his Head of House since last week when the man had prevented him from trailing Quirrell. The man had not been limping then, so what could have caused it?

Ron Weasley grinned at him from across the room. Harry sent the boy a small smirk in return. Honestly, the boy was not that bad – though he would never say such around Draco. Apparently the Malfoys had some kind of grudge against the Weasleys; it honestly did not matter that much to Harry, but the rift did cause him some problems in talking with Ron. Harry knew that if he ever spent sizable time with the other boy, Draco would really tear into him, something he was not inclined to suffer through.

Ron, though – the boy was a bit loud, a bit crude, but he was friendly enough, Harry thought. The boy obviously wasn't that close to his Gryffindor yearmates; the Irish kid and black boy were always together and that sniveling mess Longbottom…yikes. Harry could understand where Ron was at – he either had to befriend Longbottom or force his way in between the other two Gryffindors. Instead, Ron was branching out. That took courage, and Harry was not the type to turn someone away for actually bettering themselves.

"Today, I have a…surprise for you all," Professor Snape began smoothly as everyone was seated, his voice mocking as he eyed Longbottom at the back of the class. "I would like to gauge how truly talented a select few of you are. For the rest," Professor Snape scoffed, "if you destroy this classroom, your lives may become rather…bleak."

Professor Snape was once again leaning against the sturdy desk at the front of the classroom. With one hand, the professor withdrew a vial from the depths of his robes, containing a poisonous-looking blue liquid.

"Can anyone tell me what this is?" The Professor whispered, sharp black eyes surveying the classroom. Harry looked over at Draco who sat at the desk next to him. Draco's eyebrows were tugging together, a frown on his face. 'Huh,' Harry thought. 'Draco doesn't even know – that's new.'

Granger – that damn prissy girl – had a fist firmly in the air and was on the verge of bouncing out of her seat. Harry nudged Daphne and pointed to the girl, rolling his eyes. Daphne quickly covered her mouth, laughter etched into the creases of her eyes.

"Alright, Granger. Always so quick to prove your worth," Snape drolly said, disparaging eyes cast down at the girl. "What is this substance and what is it used for in potion-making?"

"It is Runespoor's venom," The girl quickly stated, her curly hair bouncing as she nodded. The girl either had missed Professor Snape's slight or was just not acknowledging it. "Runespoor's venom is identified by its slight luminescence in the dark. It is obviously used as a toxin, but can be used in potions to counteract the…"

Harry had stopped listening. Instead, he was looking intently at the little vial in Professor Snape's hand. The man was looking back at him, his eyebrows slightly raised in question. Harry met his Professor's eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Why does Granger always feel she has to answer every question?" Daphne asked from beside him. "While it's funny, it's also rather annoying, don't you think?"

Harry shrugged, his mind racing. "Dunno. I reckon it's all she's good at." In truth, he could not care less about Granger. What the fuck was Snape up to? Last week had certainly been an adventure – one starting with a ritual and ending with a bloodied unicorn horn. And now - on a bloody Monday, at that – this.

Was Snape behind it all? Harry recalled Lucius saying that the two men were friends. Was this a...what? A plot to turn him Dark or something? But what was Dark, anyway?

'If the Ministry cannot regulate it, it is Dark,' Harry remembered Lucius saying. Rituals fell into that category, right? So he was already practicing Dark Magic; in fact, in another of Lucius' books, he was reading up on Dark Spells as well.

'But they haven't forced me into this,' Harry thought, puzzling him even further. 'So I really have no clue of their motive. What I do know, however, is that Snape isn't totally with Dumbledore. If he was, he would not be…'

'Oh, fuck,' Harry breathed, dropping his quill suddenly. 'They know. They know what I'm doing and they're…helping me?' Harry's head felt weightless, as though the implications of such thoughts were waiting to hit him all at once. 'What the hell is their motive?'

"Enough, Miss Granger," Professor Snape interrupted. The girl apparently had been busy spewing chapters about the poisonous substance. "You cannot just give a simple answer, can you? We do need time to brew, after all."

The bushy haired girl shrunk in her seat as snickers made their rounds around the classroom. Harry found himself eyeing the vial of venom once more. His head hurt.

"What you need to know," Professor Snape drawled. "Is that this venom is volatile, potent, and needs to be measured and used precisely. Today, we are making a weakened Fossilization Potion. This potion, when poured onto a substance or item, will change the structure of the item to strengthen it. The list of ingredients is on the board." Professor Snape waved his wand and the instructions appeared. "Also, you will find the Runespoor's venom inside the storage cupboard. Be sure not to get the venom on your skin; it its base form, the venom dehydrates its surroundings on contact."

Professor Snape eyed the Gryffindor side of the room. "Such a sensation is not pleasant, I assure you. Begin."

"I'll get the ingredients," Harry quickly stated before Daphne could say anything. "You prepare the cauldron."

Harry leaped up from his seat, making his way to the storage cupboard right behind Blaise. Blaise nudged him with his elbow as the two entered the cupboard.

"I think Snape is actually trying to kill Longbottom," Blaise said conversationally, picking up a vial of the bluish venom. Harry grinned shakily, feeling quite off balance.

"Let me see that, won't you?" Harry murmured, reaching out to grasp the vial. Blaise shrugged and handed it over before turning to grab another. Harry looked down at the liquid glistening inside the crystal vial. It was swirling slightly, even as he held the vial still. Blaise patted him on the shoulder before ducking out of the cupboard. Harry stealthily stuck the vial in his robes pocket before reaching for another vial, praying that there would be enough vials that no one would notice.

He had to take it. Even if he was not ready to actually do the ritual, when would he get another chance to get Runespoor's venom? Even if Lucius and Professor Snape were scheming, getting the venom still suited him. Harry snatched up some other ingredients needed for the potion before rejoining Daphne with a smile.

The potion was nearing its final stages, and Snape was staring at him again. Honestly, he had been doing it the entire class period. Harry had resolved not to acknowledge the man. If Professor Snape suspected something, well, he wasn't saying anything about it. Besides, after Harry's realization earlier, he supposed that the two of them needed to chat anyway.

Daphne liked to gossip, it seemed. He had not spent that much time around the girl, but he was learning quite a few things from her – unimportant things – but things nonetheless. Talking about such insignificant topics was a nice break from the spinning gears in his head, so Harry humored her.

"Pansy really does not like you," The girl said suddenly, stirring their potion. Harry raised his eyebrows, but wasn't really surprised by that.

"The filthy halfblood that I am," He scoffed. "Do you know why?" He asked, pausing from cutting up ingredients.

"Well, she has always liked Draco," Daphne smiled. "I'd guess that has something to do with it."

"What," Harry said blankly, waving his knife. "Me hanging out with him?"

Daphne nodded, grinning. "That and the fact he'd rather listen to you and the other boys than her."

Harry stared off for a bit before humming in acknowledgement, but inwardly he could only sneer. Pansy was a brat – there was no other way to put it. So, she had a crush or something on Draco? He could care less, to be honest. But the girl was bloody annoying and was not going to stop being that way until Draco rebuked her.

Harry, tenderly, lifted the vial of venom and measured the amount that would be needed in the potion. Harry waited for Daphne to finish stirring before pouring the venom in, turning the warm green-colored potion an unforgiving grey.

Professor Snape swooped in, looking over the tops of their heads. "Good," He whispered, sending a chill down Harry's spine. The man swiftly moved on, leaving Harry to ponder.

Longbottom, with the help of Granger, managed not to kill himself as Blaise had suggested. Daphne was alight with happiness beside him; their potion had come out as it should and she was swimming with pride. It honestly made Harry a bit amused; nothing, nothing would make him act as she currently was.

"We managed to avoid a catastrophe," Professor Snape announced. "For a Monday, that is acceptable. Dismissed."

Chairs scuffed the floor and low conversations began around him, but Harry took his time collecting his things. There was nothing to rush for; after all, the conversation he desired was right in front of him.

"Bloody awful class today, wasn't it?" Ron groaned, walking from the other side of the lab to speak with him. Harry shrugged casually.

"It was alright," Harry said. "No one messed up terribly. I'd wager that it was one of the better classes we'll have, personally."

Ron scowled. "Yeah, well Snape's a git. He gave us no marks for today."

Harry smirked. "Your cauldron was frothing, mate. Either a potion's right or it's not."

Harry glanced around the lab. Most of the students were filing out of the lab, but Draco stood near the door, watching him with an unimpressed air. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Look, Ron," began Harry. "I need to talk to Professor Snape about a few things. I catch up with you later, okay?"

Ron nodded eagerly. "I haven't even introduced you to my brothers," He said. "The twins are a hassle, I tell you."

"I look forward to it," Harry smiled. "Until later, then."

Ron beamed. "Bye, mate."

Ron walked out of the class, but not before throwing Draco a superior look. Draco countered with a sneer and a look directed at Harry that clearly said, "Really?"

Harry held his hands up helplessly before waving Draco off. "Later," Harry mouthed.

Draco crossed his arms, shaking his head before opening the door and departing for the Great Hall.

'He gets his feeling hurt way to easily,' Harry sighed. At least the room was empty now.

Speak of the devil.

"Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape questioned. Harry turned around to look at the man. He was sitting behind his desk, a sharp glint in his eye. "Is there a problem?"

Harry shook his head. "I was only concerned about your leg, Professor," Harry said sympathetically. "That was quite a limp you had today."

Professor Snape waved him off. "My leg is fine, Potter. I should be walking regularly by the end of the week. How did you find today's lesson? I do hope you…found merit in it."

Harry crossed his arms. "The potion was fine," He said. "I would probably enjoy something more challenging, though. I did well enough, I hope?"

Professor Snape raised his eyebrows, the corner of his lip twitching slightly. "You performed quite well, Mr. Potter," Snape replied softly. "In fact, you performed exactly as I had expected."

Harry ignored the flicker of anger licking at his intestines. Clearly Snape was not going to bring the topic up. That left one person to finish the job. "What are you and Lucius up to?" Harry asked bluntly.

Snape laughed. It was certainly not a pleasant laugh. Instead, it was mocking, sending jolts of rage up Harry's spine. "Quite a list of things, Potter. Mr. Malfoy heads the Board of Governors, contributes in the Wizengamot, and has a wife and child to concern himself with. I, as you well know," Professor Snape smirked tauntingly. "Teach. I also experiment in my lab during my spare time. Aside from that – "

"Pertaining to me," Harry intervened, fuming. This bastard had the audacity to toy with him? "I know both of you are watching me, and I think there's more to it, don't you?"

"Potter," Professor Snape sneered. "Surely you are not so arrogant to believe everyone cares about you? My, my…such ostentation ought to be punished."

Harry bit back a growl, approaching Snape's desk with aggression. He slammed his bag down onto the desk, spilling the contents of Snape's ink bottle. Harry leaned in as the man snarled.

"I don't like games, Professor," Harry said. "I don't have the patience for them. Punish me if you want, but you will answer my questions."

Professor Snape's eyes veiled over, blackness becoming even darker. "Careful, Potter," Snape said softly, barely a whisper. "You may not like the answers you find."

Harry ignored him. "We both know a certain ingredient today was meant to be there for a reason. What was the reason?"

Professor Snape stared at him for a moment in silence. Harry became aware that his breathing was coming in harsh bursts and his forehead ached from the crinkle in his brows.

Slowly, Professor Snape stood, motioning to the school bag on his desk. "Simply for that reason, Mr. Potter. A good afternoon to you."

Professor Snape walked around his desk, heading for the door to his office. He spared no backwards glance.

Harry stared with incredulity. That bastard. Hatred shook his frame and his wand was suddenly in his hand.

"Laedo Morbere!"

Professor Snape swirled sharply on his healthy leg, his wand caressed by long fingers, to face the sickly green curse. The spell met a strong shield. The shield wobbled under the strength of the curse, but overcame it.

"Weak," Professor Snape smirked. "Next time you try to curse me - from behind, at that – at least use a curse that will impress me."

Harry's eyes widened. That was the strongest spell he knew…and it was worthless. Snape leered at him, and Harry was rooted in place.

"Detention, I think," Professor Snape announced. The man was enjoying every second of this meeting, it seemed. "Friday, 7 o'clock. And for your own sake, learn some better spells."

The Professor left for his office, and Harry was alone.

"What took so long?" Draco hissed. Harry avoided the boy's eyes, setting his bag down on the table in front of him. Harry rubbed at his face - he had left the potions lab moments after Professor Snape, but he was more conflicted than ever. Professor Snape's words stung on an emotional level that few had ever reached with him.

Weak.

Compared to Snape, we was, wasn't he? That hurt. A lot. Harry had made to conscious decision to never be mocked for not being good enough again.

And yet, there it was. Professor Snape was the better spellcaster. The man had been involved in the war, after all. It only made sense that the man could cast well. The shield he conjured had been cast nonverbally – and not only that, but the man had expected the attack.

Self-doubt clawed at Harry's insides. 'I should have gone with something wandless,' Harry grimaced. The spell he had used on Snape would have left the man violently ill – it was a Dark spell, one that would incapacitate a victim for weeks. The illness would change based on what was done for it. And the man had dared to call him weak after that?

What spell did he want thrown at him, anyway? A Killing Curse?

"I don't know what's wrong with you, but Quirrell will be coming in any second so get it together," Draco whispered. Harry heaved a sigh and nodded at the other boy. It wouldn't do to miss an opportunity to observe the stuttering fool that was Quirrell, after all.

"S-s-settle down, c-class," Professor Quirrell wavered, shaking as he set his briefcase on the teacher's desk. "Today, w-we'll b-be studying ab-bout imp-p-portance of proper wand c-care in sp-spellcasting."

'Jesus Christ, save me from this idiot,' Harry mentally moaned. His scar prickled slightly, as it always did in Quirrell's class, but the slight pain helped him focus. Seriously, how did anyone believe this bullshit? The man was a liar, from his stutter to his personality. Harry was still suspicious, but what was he to do about the man now? He decided to set it all aside –both Quirrell and his experiences with Snape - in favor of reading a spellbook Lucius had sent him; it was not like he actually had to pay attention in this class, right?

A sharp thud drew his attention several minutes later. Harry looked over the top of his book to see a student in the front row slumped over in their chair. Whispers broke out as the Ravenclaw on the front row shook her desk mate. The slumped figure did not respond.

"Is everything q-quite alr-alright, d-dear?" Professor Quirrell asked fretfully.

"I think he's fainted, Professor," The girl answered.

Plop.

Harry turned in his seat to see Blaise falling to the floor.

"Zabini, get up!" Parkinson said, sticking her foot out to nudge the boy. Zabini, it seemed, was unconscious as well.

Harry slowly set his book down, keeping his gaze up. Whatever was causing this, surely it couldn't be a good thing.

"Alright, what the bloody hell is going on?" Theo cried as another boy slumped to the floor.

Draco, to Harry's left fell from his seat as well, knocking his head soundly against the marble floor. Harry started from the sudden noise, drawing his wand and sending his chair skidding as he stood. Students were dropping like flies now. Harry's eyes swiveled quickly, ready to defend himself, but there was nothing visible happening.

At this point, only he, Parkinson, and a Ravenclaw boy were standing. The Ravenclaw shivered in place, unable to move a muscle.

Professor Quirrell had a hand over his chest, wide eyes surveying the class. The man looked scared out of his wits. The Ravenclaw was the next to drop, eyes rolling and collapsing into a desk.

'What is doing this? There's nothing in the room,' Harry thought desperately. He had already had one humbling experience today – he could handle this.

"What are you standing around for, Potter?" Parkinson screeched. "Protect me!"

Harry turned to the girl, a harsh comment ready to be fired, when a red spell surged toward the girl. Parkinson fell, leaving Harry to turn once more.

Quirrell.

The man stood still, wand outward, with the expression that Harry remembered from last week. The man's eyes were changed, however. Instead of Quirrell's usual pale eyes, Harry now gazed into deep red ones.

"What is your problem?" Harry asked, casting an arm out in Parkinson's direction. He was vaguely aware that the pain in his scar had increased. "Why did you stun her?"

Professor Quirrell smirked predatorily. "Her? My dear child, did you miss all the others I incapacitated? I did not overestimate you, did I?"

"It doesn't surprise me that you were doing it, but why leave me standing? What do you want?" His hand tensed on the handle of his wand, his other arm ready strike out with magic as well. He would not be embarrassed twice in one day.

Quirrell spread his arms wide, stepping over the fallen form of a student in the front row. "It is less about what I want and more about what you want, Harry. You did, after all, follow me last Friday afternoon. You have questions for me, I assume?"

"Of course," Harry said softly. "Like why did you try to rob Gringotts? Why do you act like a fool? What are you after?"

Professor Quirrell laughed. It was a soft laugh, one that sent shivers down Harry's spine, much like that day at Gringotts. "Fair questions, and ones I can readily answer; for the first, Gringotts was in possession of an item that I desire," Quirrell smiled, not missing a beat. "I am after my own gain, as we all are – you can relate, I assume?"

Quirrell raised an eyebrow at Harry, waiting for an answer. When Harry nodded, the man smiled once more. "As for why I act 'a fool'…I like playing games, Harry. Besides, who would suspect shaky, stuttering Professor Quirrell of any wrongdoing?"

Harry was interrupted from processing the man's answers when Quirrell lashed out with a question of his own.

"So, Harry," Professor Quirrell leered. "Were you aware of the consequences of your actions?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "I usually am. What consequences in particular are you talking about?"

Red eyes glinted with emotion. "Why, drawing my interest, of course," Professor Quirrell whispered. "I've seen who you are…but I have not seen how you react."

The man vanished and the pain in Harry's scar subsided. Well, if this wasn't a déjà vu moment.

Wait a minute…

Harry spun with his wand raised just as Professor Quirrell reappeared. The man lunged for him with his arms stretched wide, reaching out to grab him. Harry swept his hand out, launching a chair at the man. Quirrell laughed as he sidestepped the chair with ease.

"Very good, Harry," Professor Quirrell praised. "Unfortunately, you cannot stop me."

A spell swept Harry's feet out from under him, sending him harshly to the floor. Harry gasped as his hip collided painfully with the leg of a desk. A heavy weight settled upon him, pinning him in place.

"Get off!" Harry yelled, kicking out with his feet to displace the laughing Quirrell. It was no use; the man was too strong.

"You cannot stop me," Professor Quirrell repeated, red eyes inches from his own. "You are powerless to stop me, Harry. You are weak. I can do anything I want to you. I have taken your will away."

Harry's wide eyes stared fearfully back at Professor Quirrell. The man deflected another kick, but it was a half-hearted one. Harry was defeated, restrained without even being injured.

Professor Quirrell's hand reached out, settling against the scar on his forehead.

"Good night, Harry," Quirrell mocked. The hand pressed down sharply, forcing the back of Harry's head to meet the marble floor. Stars burst forth in front of Harry's eyes. The man was laughing above him. His head was forced to the floor again and his vision went black, the last vestiges of laughter ringing in his ears.

Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day. After all, none of the students were able to pay attention after hearing of the first year defense class that morning. What could have caused an entire class of kids to drop over in a faint?

Rumors were circling through the school that the class had all fallen ill. Others had a magical creature as the culprit. The one person no one blamed was Professor Quirrell.

Professor Quirrell was inconsolable. The man had fled from the classroom as the last student fell, but refused (or was unable from fear) to describe exactly what had happened. The man was now being treated with the rest of the class in the Hospital Wing by Madam Pomfrey.

The Professors, led by the Headmaster, had thoroughly examined the classroom, but found no leads on what had caused the ordeal. Professor Snape had informed all the Slytherins that it was likely a witch or wizard was behind the attack. In response, the older years were now tasked with the duty of protecting the lower years.

In the Hospital Wing, the students were all unconscious. Harry Potter, though none of the students were aware, had actually been attacked after Professor Quirrell fled, but was healing from the ordeal. All the patients were asleep, except one.

Voldemort was exhausted. He had been in control of Quirinus for most of the past week and the man was still fighting him. How was he to strengthen himself in such a state? Still, the past few days had been productive.

Lucius was doing well in his assignments. If the man kept up the good work, perhaps his inevitable punishment could be reduced. His role in confronting Severus was well done, and speaking of Severus…my, what a fun reunion.

The potions master certainly had a way with words, though his screams were much more pleasurable. Voldemort decided to give the man a chance to redeem himself. He was now burdened with a difficult task, but it was quite simple in practice.

Voldemort, in his exhaustion, finally let go of Quirinus' mind. He needed to recouperate.

'But more than anything,' He thought. 'I need a new host. Soon.'

Shit's getting real, isn't it? Only one of these scenes was supposed to happen when I outlined this chapter, but then an idea, as often happens with me, popped into my mind and I just could not resist.

I'm sorry the updates have gotten slower. I am helping coach my old high school baseball team, I'm attending classes, working at the school newspaper...and I'm having fun. I think about this story often and the frequent brainstorming sessions really help to make this story compelling, I believe.

Now, let me get to answering some of my favorite comments:

ilyena damodred: I'm glad you are enjoying the story and thank you for giving me your opinion on Harry's character. I try not to view Harry as having a light and dark side. Instead...he's just Harry - a kid who suffered a lot in an orphanage, hated everyone, and has a tendency to follow his ambitions a bit rashly. He should remind you of canon Harry in that regard. The only real difference is that he is much more self confident and less concerned with other people's feelings. If something will benefit him with only minor consequences, why wouldn't he do it? As you pointed out - and a common trait in young people - he's not fully examining his actions and their consequences. He'll learn from it eventually.

GreenGrizzly: Good to hear from you again! Voldemort's character is so much fun to write because he can literally do anything he wants - who's going to stop him? Certainly not me. If he wants to kick Lucius in the face, who am I to prevent it? I said it in my private message to you, but I can be more creative than putting Harry in detention just to get him in the Forbidden Forest, just like I can be more creative than just having Bane insult Harry. I don't know exactly what will happen after 1st year, to be honest. I have vague plans, but I don't know if there will be a CoS equivalent, if I'll make a second story for it, and so on. As my motto has become, we'll see!

lovelyduckling80: I love my lurkers just as much, and even more so when they give me feedback! The "having it all lain out there so indifferently" is intentional, I assure you. I hate stories that bash characters or have someone manipulating Harry. I won't do it; Harry will consciously decide on everything he does. You rock, by the way; please, continue to let me know what you think!

scalvim: I'm trying to give you more chapters! To answer your questions: Can't tell you, can't tell you, dunno, dunno, yes, yes, hahaha, more than you can imagine, and you just read it! Love you, I'll get to work on #12 tomorrow.

There are more of you I want to answer, but it's 3:29 a.m. and I have class at 9. Just know that I'm humbled by the follows and favorites (and especially reviews...hint, hint) and that I will strive to continue to make this story as alluring as possible. If you have any questions, ask! I will provide you answers and my own thought process for whatever the question is about.

See you soon,

Brigade