Chapter 10 - After Dinner Meant…
…everything was back to its usual state. If the trio thought that classes with Snape might be better following dinner with the Grangers, they were sadly mistaken. They were set straight the moment they walked into the Potions classroom. While Hermione had managed to complete the essay Snape had assigned the week before, Harry and Ron had done nothing. As the other students took their parchment rolls up and laid them on Snape's desk, they looked at each other in horror. Before, they had always managed to patch something together, or got some help from Hermione. When she walked back from the front of the room, Ron looked at her accusingly. She rolled her eyes and whispered, "Why didn't you do it on Friday?"
"Quidditch practice." they both whispered together.
She rolled her eyes again, knowing that they could have done it after practice, but had probably stayed up playing wizard chess or talking Quidditch strategy all night, instead.
Harry whispered, "You always remind us … why didn't you?"
"OWLs study group. I didn't even see you after your practice, remember?"
A deep mocking voice interrupted their conversation. "I seem to be missing your essays, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley." Snickering erupted from the Slytherin side of the room. Draco Malfoy was especially gleeful, as his grinning face clearly showed his enjoyment of their discomfort. Snape continued when they didn't make a move to come forward, "Is it your intention to keep us waiting for them all day?"
Ron cleared his throat. "Well, sir, we thought that as we've been spending so much time with you in detention, you'd understand that we didn't have time-"
"Miss Granger appears to have found the time, Mr. Weasley." Snape's voice was hard and cold.
Harry decided that perhaps forthrightness was best. "We forgot about the essay, sir. Time just got away from us. We'll turn it in tomorrow."
"You most certainly will not, Mr. Potter. A zero then, and extra detention. Again." His black eyes were clearly challenging them to respond somehow.
Ron jerked upright at his words, but Hermione laid a hand over his under the table. Ron's mouth snapped shut on the comments he had been about to make. Instead, his face burned crimson, and the muscle in the side of his jaw was twitching with the efforts to keep his response from bursting out.
Snape kept staring pointedly at them until they both finally muttered, "Yes, Professor."
After class, the three made their way outside, walking towards the lake. Ron was in a rage. "You'd think he would give us a break, with all we're doing for him! It's not fair!"
"Is it?" Hermione responded softly. "It was an assignment, Ron. If we don't do them, it will only make things suspicious, if Snape doesn't call you on it. This is our OWLs year. No matter what else is going on, you still have to be ready for it." She stopped Ron with a gentle hand on his arm. "What you do with the rest of your life will likely be decided by how well you do on your OWLs."
Ron looked down at her for a moment and then took the hand on his arm into his own hand. His voice was calmer when he responded. "Would one little essay make such a difference?" He dropped into the grass under a tree at the waters edge, pulling her down to sit beside him. Pulling up a blade of grass, he stuck it in his mouth as he thought.
Hermione sat silently. She knew that it wasn't easy for them to always be on the receiving end of Snape's vindictiveness. He had always made a point of favouring his Slytherin students over the other houses. Harry and Ron were his favourite targets. She knew that her own work gave Snape cause to be scathing, but it wasn't because it was lacking. It was more because he was irritated that she did exceptional work and was not in Slytherin. Even though it hurt when Snape derided her intelligence, it was somehow a backhanded compliment, too. She supposed it was because she was Muggle-born, and not a pure-blood, as well. She just wasn't supposed to be as smart as she was.
Ron finally looked up at Harry, who had been silent the entire time. He was kicking at tufts of grass at the shoreline. "You haven't said anything, Harry. And in class, you took the blame for not doing the essay … what is it, mate?"
Harry walked back to them and dropped into the grass beside them. Resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned his head into his hands and rubbed at the scar on his forehead.
Hermione reached out a hand to him. "Harry? Is your scar hurting again? Are you feeling-him?"
"I don't know." He sighed. "It's not hurting exactly … it's like quick twinges … not constant pain." He flopped back onto his back with an arm across his eyes. After a few moments he continued, "It's almost like he's searching for something, but he doesn't want me to know he's searching. He's trying not to let it hurt, so I won't realize he's there … weird, huh?"
Ron snorted in disbelief. "Not trying to hurt you? Yeah, I'd say that's weird. When has he ever not tried to hurt you?"
Hermione was staring at Harry intently. "Maybe you need to tell Dumbledore or Snape. It could be something important."
He removed his arm to look over at her. "Tell them what? 'My scar is sort of hurting, but not really, sir.' I don't think they'd appreciate my whining much."
"But it's not whining, Harry. You're saying this is something different than usual. If he is searching for something, don't you think Dumbledore needs to know about it?"
Harry just shrugged. "Maybe. It is different, just since we've been doing our detentions with Snape. But I don't know if it's connected." He sat up then and pulled up his own blade of grass to pick apart. "I do wonder what Voldemort would do if he knew what Snape was doing for Dumbledore. I mean, do you think he has to tell Voldemort some kind of truth about what he does for Dumbledore? Just to keep up the appearance of being a spy against Dumbledore?"
"I'm still not sure it's just appearance," Ron grumbled. "Maybe Snape just wants Dumbledore to believe he's on our side, and when he tells Voldemort he's on his side, he really is."
"That's an awful thought, Ron," Hermione breathed. "In fact, I don't think I can bear to think about it! If Snape is really not on our side, and he's been in my home, with my parents…" Her face was pale and her lips were trembling.
Ron quickly threw his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I really don't think that. I just don't like the great black bat of a git. I'm sure he really is on our side. Dumbledore is the smartest wizard of our time. He wouldn't be fooled if Snape weren't on the up and up." Hermione gently untangled herself from his embrace and smiled at him. Ron kept his arm around her and looked at Harry again. "But still, Harry, why did you just admit it about the essay? You just took the blame."
Harry looked at Ron steadily. "We didn't do it. We did forget about it. It was my fault that I didn't do mine, whatever you choose to think about your own, Ron."
Leaning down on one elbow, Ron said scornfully, "Seems like Snape could be a bit more flexible, considering-"
"And give away that we're working with him? And not against him like all the Slytherins believe? Yeah, Malfoy would like to have that little piece of information, alright," Harry reminded him. He looked unflinchingly at Ron until Ron looked away.
Sighing with exasperation, Ron said, "I know you're right. I just don't want you to be right." Looking at Harry curiously, he added, "Looks to me like you're starting to trust Snape almost as much as Dumbledore does."
Harry did look away then and pulled at the grass some more. Hermione spoke up then, "I hate to admit it, but I do trust him a little more now." She looked at both boys anxiously, as if afraid of what their response would be to her statement.
Harry kept his gaze on his hands and then nodded in agreement. "Yeah. More now. Not completely … but more."
The three of them sat silently now, each absorbed in their own thoughts. The sun sparkled on the water and occasionally there would be a splash as something leaped up out of the lake. Just as quickly, a long tentacle would flick up and capture it, much as a frog's sticky tongue might flick out to capture its prey.
Hermione finally stood up. With a tired sigh she said, "I have an OWLs study group meeting in the west courtyard in five minutes. You'd both do well to come. I know Quidditch practice isn't until later, and you know the effort will pay off at exam time." With that, she started back towards the castle without waiting for their reply.
Ron squinted after her. "I think she expects us to follow her."
Harry noticed that Ron hadn't agreed with them about trusting Snape. He almost asked, but then decided that Ron would have to reach his own conclusions in his own time. He stood up and extended a hand to his friend. "Come on. Let's go try to stuff some useful knowledge into our heads. She's right. We should be more serious about the OWLs."
Ron sighed and shook his head. "Alright, alright." He let Harry heave him to his feet. "Let's get it over with."
In the shadows of a castle window, an unseen figure in black watched the trio. Dark eyes narrowed in concentration, seeking for any thoughts that might stray from their direction.
Chapter 11: Hated Friend
Between classes, OWLs study group, Quidditch practice, homework, and 'detention time', the three friends wondered how they ever found time to eat and sleep. Both Harry and Ron were determined to complete every homework assignment for every class. This obvious effort on their part went a long way to get Hermione to lend them a hand when they asked for help. She proofread essays and quizzed them on review material before tests. During 'detention time', Snape never mentioned their regular classes or assignments, including his own. But his demeanour was markedly different at these times; he seemed to be friendlier, or more relaxed then.
Hermione did ask about it, somewhat hesitantly, at their next detention. "Sir, I hope you don't think me presumptuous-"
"Which no doubt indicates that you are about to be just that," Snape remarked dryly.
Hermione's cheeks flushed. "Well, sir, you just seem so different when we're in class - I mean, here you're sort of friendly, and in class, you're …"
Snape sat regarding her silently, his eyes glimmering darkly. If one didn't know better, it would seem he was amused. When she seemed unable to complete her observation, she looked to Ron and Harry for help. Ron just looked at her and shook his head, as if to say, 'This is your can of worms you just opened; I'm not going to get in the middle of it.'
Harry shrugged in his characteristic way. To his way of thinking, there was no way anything he could say would possibly cause Snape to hate him any more than he already did. He didn't have anything to lose. "What she means is you're tolerable when we're in here, doing this. Outside, you still make us miserable, acting like the black bat from hell that everyone thinks you are. What gives?"
"Harry!" Hermione gasped in shock. "I was not about to say that!"
He shrugged again. "You were thinking it. We all were." Then he sat there looking at Snape expectantly. Ron was sitting there with his mouth open, clearly unsure whether to deny Harry's statement, or add to it. Hermione was casting her eyes all around as she desperately tried to think of something to say. To their utter amazement, the next sound was as unexpected as it would be if Draco Malfoy suddenly professed himself loyal to Dumbledore.
Snape laughed. Not a little chuckle of dry amusement or derision, but a full-chested, head-thrown-back laugh that had the trio sitting with their jaws agape.
His laughter lasted for a good two minutes, in which time the trio began looking at each other as if wanting to escape from this deranged Snape even more than the Potions Master they had grown to hate through the years.
Finally, he stopped, although there was still a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I can see that this is uncomfortable for you. Truly, I do not find myself needing to express myself thus very often."
"That's good," muttered Ron under his breath, rubbing himself on the chest. "Don't think my heart could take it again. That's creepy, it is."
"Like me," Snape intoned.
Ron had already started nodding in agreement before he realized how that looked. Just as quickly, he shook his head. "No, sir! I didn't mean that."
"No matter, Mr. Weasley. My self-esteem is quite safe from your low opinion of me." Now he was looking at them solemnly. "It occurs to me that we will make more progress in preparation if we keep it separate from the classroom. Antagonism can only hinder us. In here, we are … friends, of a sort, working together towards a common purpose. Due to circumstances, outside this room, we are students and hated teacher." His honesty at spelling out the way they felt about him in the classroom had them agape again. He continued, "I do not expect our appearances to others in Hogwarts to change. In fact, it must not. That is why my demeanour towards you must not change, nor my expectations in class."
No one said anything as he or she all thought this through. Although they were silent, Harry thought friends was a little too presumptuous on Snape's part. He thought tolerable was still a better term. He realized that he was staring into Snape's eyes as he thought this. Can he read my mind? Does he know how Voldemort is trying to take peeks into it, too? He saw Snape's eyes widen in surprise then. I guess you can, he thought.
Snape gave a slight shake of his head, seeming to indicate that Harry should not mention this. Then he said, "One of you explain to me what this term means: over-the-counter-medication." Then he looked expectantly at them all. And like that, they continued to work on the list of Muggle terminology that Hermione had prepared.
At the conclusion of their session, Hermione told them that her parents had invited them again for the following Saturday evening. "I think dad has it planned for you to see a spot of Muggle sports on the telly."
Snape nodded his approval. "You may accept the invitation on our behalf."
Hermione smiled as they gathered up their things to leave. Yet another opportunity to spend time with her parents! Wonderful!
Snape spoke quietly when they went to the door, "A word, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, sir." Harry had known since he had been thinking of mind reading that Snape would keep him afterwards.
"Shall we wait for you, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"No. You two go on. I'll be there in a bit," he answered.
Once they were gone, Snape turned to Harry. "Tell me about your scar hurting, Potter."
"It's not hurting-"
"Then explain your belief that the Dark Lord is –taking peeks- I believe you were thinking." His voice was hard again.
Harry sighed. "It really isn't hurting, sir. Like I told Ron and Hermione, it's like little twinges … not pain. It's … almost a sneaky feeling, like he's not wanting me to know he's peeking." He looked up at the Potions Master. "It's not my imagination, either." He avoided saying that he thought Snape was being sneaky, by trying to see Harry's thoughts earlier. He knew it would dredge up snide remarks about his failure to learn Occlumency earlier in the school year.
'I was not about to say that it was, Potter. Why have you not told this to the Headmaster or myself?"
Harry gave another sigh. "Hermione said I should. But I thought it would sound like whining. Especially since it doesn't really hurt. It just feels different."
"How long has this been going on?"
"Since not too long after we began our detention sessions with you."
Snape looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should do more work on your ability to occlude."
"No offence, sir, but I really don't think I can squeeze in one more thing right now."
"Even if that thing will keep the Dark Lord out of your mind?" Snape asked darkly.
"Well, when you put it like that, I suppose I have no choice," Harry groaned.
So Harry and Snape sat back down. When Harry finally did get back up to Gryffindor Tower several hours later, Ron and Hermione were just about to come out.
"Where are you two going? It's well past curfew," Harry stated tiredly.
Hermione put her hands on her hips. "That's right, it is Harry. Where have you been? We were just about to head up to Dumbledore's office to tell him you were missing!"
"I told Snape about my scar twinging." He thought it better not to mention that Snape had seen this in his mind without Harry telling him anything. "We were discussing it."
"All this time?" Ron asked.
"He thinks I need to ratchet up my Occlumency. We started working on it again." Harry dropped into a cushy chair, rubbing his temples.
Hermione sat down then. "You must be exhausted, then. To do that on top of everything else today." At least she was sympathetic now.
Ron muttered, "He wasn't a git was he? After what you said, I mean?"
"No, he wasn't. He just wants me to be able to keep Voldemort out of my thoughts."
"So he thinks that's what is happening?" Hermione asked, a little anxious.
"I don't know. He didn't say for sure. I think he believes that Voldemort might be trying it this way to see if he can get more information, than if he tries it by outright bloody force." He leaned forward, dropping his head onto his knees. "I've got to go to bed. If I don't get up now, I'll have to sleep here tonight."
Ron held out his hand and when Harry took it, he pulled him to his feet. "Come on then. See you in the morning, 'Mione."
"Goodnight, Harry, Ron."
They all trudged up to their dormitories, more than ready to drop into their beds for some much-needed rest.