Thanks to Mommy2, Ginnylove9990, mrs severus snape, Alice Cullen1227, Nice Huntress, soxloveable93, nazgurl, Emnm407, taiyuan, JWOHPfan, Hermione Jean Potter, excessivelyperky, eaglesfreak17, Musical Jelmo, KimSpiritTalks, blue artemis, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, Crazy-Physco, fattoad, acacia59601, Beth5572, and karlii for the reviews and to all of you who are sticking with me through my tedious updating schedule. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.
Enjoy! Oh, and if you haven't read the updated first two chapters of It's Mutual 1, go read them.
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.
It's Mutual 3 . . .
Chapter 1 - Law and Potions
"Go to bed, Harry," Severus said sternly, and the young man looked up at the clock.
"It's only seven," he answered before going back to writing up the main compositions of the magical properties of dragon scales and phoenix tears. Severus went over and first took the quill from his writing hand and then the paper. "Bed. Now. You know everything."
"But . . ."
"You won't be able to take the exam tomorrow if you are sleeping," Severus pointed out. "Now go." The vacation week went well, but as soon as they arrived back home, Harry had done nothing but study constantly – eating only when Severus pushed food in front of his face. He had tried to get the boy to take a break, but his efforts never lasted more than a couple of hours. He realized it was better to just let him go for a week and let him crash afterwards.
He watched as Harry slowly got up and plopped face down on his bed.
"I'm going to do horribly," his son muttered into the pillow and Severus shook his head as he walked over to the bed and sat down.
"You'll do well," Severus said, putting a hand on the back of his head and ran his fingers through the shoulder length black hair. "Would you like a potion to help you sleep?" Harry didn't say anything for a few moments, but then he turned his head to the side to face his father and gave a small nod.
"That might be good," he answered, and Severus stood.
"I will be right back, then." Although he didn't rush, he didn't take his time as he grabbed a Dream Sleep Drought from his laboratory and made his way back to his son's room. Harry was as he left him, face down on his bed and still in his day clothes.
"Are you not going to put on your pajamas?"
"No," Harry said, sounding somewhat defeated. "I'm comfortable enough." Alright, then, Severus thought as he walked over to the bed and he was slightly grateful when Harry sat up so he could take the potion without any coercion. Harry didn't take reach for the potion when Severus held it out, though. Instead, he sat on the bed, looking at his lap with a look of such desolation that Severus couldn't help but take his son's hands into his own.
"Harry?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
"I'm going to do horribly," he said again, still not looking up. "I keep feeling that I'm going to get there and I won't remember anything and then you'll . . ." he dropped off, and Severus couldn't quite put a finger on how he felt. What does Harry think I'll do? he asked himself. Part of him felt so good to know that Harry would put himself through what he was to get his approval, but it also hurt. Severus had told the boy several times that he didn't have to prove himself for Severus to care about him, and if he was still keeping this up . . . that probably meant he didn't believe him.
"Harry?" Releasing one hand from his son's, he raised it to Harry's chin and gently forced the young man to look at him. "You don't have to take the exam tomorrow. You don't ever have to if you don't want to."
"But then . . . you'll . . . I don't . . ." Harry couldn't seem to get out what he was trying to say. Quite honestly, he couldn't remember him ever being this incoherent.
"Harry," he said again, forceful this time. "Tell me what's wrong." Harry closed his eyes and moved his head so Severus was no longer holding his chin. After a minute, he sighed and opened his eyes.
"I want to take it," he finally said. "I worked so hard for it, but I'm afraid I'll mess up and embarrass you . . . and me, and then you'll be angry . . ."
"Harry," Severus sighed. "I won't be angry if you don't pass. You're only seventeen. I probably pushed you too hard and maybe it is too early for you to take the exam, but I know you know the material very well. Very, very well, in fact. And if you don't do well on the exam, you may take it again. It is different each time and there is no limit on the amount of times you are allowed to retake it."
"Everyone there's going to be a lot older than me, aren't they?" Harry asked.
"Yes. When I took the exam, everyone was older than I was."
If possible, Harry slumped even further. "They're probably going to know much more than me, aren't they? They've had so much time to work on it . . ."
"Actually, most who take the exam do not pass. I have substituted in as a grader a few times. I know you know more than enough to pass with the minimum level of competence."
"Alright, but how could I learn all the material I needed to know in less than two years when it takes everyone else so many more years to learn it?"
"Several reasons, probably," Severus answered after thinking for a moment. "Most do not study at the rate you did. Potions is what you mostly concentrated on, especially during the last year. Others have jobs to worry about or are working under a Potions Master who would require work to be done for them in payment for lessons. And . . . it is possible that the Voices had you work at a fast pace for their own purposes."
"Oh . . ." Harry said, not sounding any more convinced than he was before, but at least he sounded less depressed. Not knowing what else to do and just wanting Harry to feel better, he reached over and pulled his son close to him and held him tight. He felt him go from tense because of the sudden action to relaxed. They stayed like that for a few moments until Harry began to move. Severus let go and sat further on the bed. To his surprise, Harry sat much closer to him and wrapped his arms around his body without hesitation. Severus returned the hug, resting his chin on the young man's head. It briefly crossed his mind as to how short Harry still was.
Moving his head, he gently kissed his son's temple then moved his mouth to whisper in his ear. "Remember that I will love you no matter what," he told the boy. "I will always be here for you."
The feeling that rushed through him – some of which felt like a backlash of magic - was warm and soothing and he realized that he had never kissed his son before, yet it felt so natural, reassuring the boy in that way.
"Thanks, Dad," Harry whispered and Severus gave him one more silent kiss – this one on the top of his head – before letting go and picking up the potion from his lap.
"Do you still wish to take the potion?" he asked.
"Yeah, I should," Harry answered, taking it slowly. Severus stood and moved the covers so Harry could crawl in and he smiled at the seventeen year old.
"Good night, Harry. Sleep well," he said as the boy drank the contents of the vial and pull the covers over himself.
"Night," he answered, falling asleep. Severus stood at watched for a moment before leaving, closing the bedroom door behind him. He was sure Harry would pass the WPAM exam, unless he froze during it, which Harry wasn't known to do. He knew enough that even if he didn't remember something, he could probably deduce it from something else.
He had a feeling that Harry would be doing much with potions after the exam, much to his dismay. He enjoyed working in the lab with the boy, watching him figure things out. Still content despite this thought, Severus went downstairs to the kitchen to continue the book he was reading.
— - - - - - - - - - - -
Harry stumbled coming out of the floo in the Ministry of Magic and after a second of finding his footing, he looked around and made his way to the front desk.
"Name and purpose?" the lady asked.
"Harry Potter-Snape for the WPAM exam," he answered. He sighed as they went through the entire check in procedure before he was sent to level 5. The elevator ride was quiet, but much slower than he remembered, so he looked around at the decor. With that only taking a few seconds, he faced forward again and was about to lean back on the wall when a searing pain traveled through his scar. He reached up to rub it, crouching down to the floor for balance. It was about a minute before the pain subsided and he managed to stand before the elevator door opened.
It had been awhile since his scar hurt. In fact, he barely thought about Voldemort lately. Severus still went to meetings and Harry still watched for dangers among his yearmates and those students who were younger than him during the year, but Severus said they talk of nothing of importance at the meetings for awhile now and it was if the Hogwarts population had forgotten about the Dark Lord entirely. With his scar hurting . . . all he knew was that this was a bad day for it to start up again.
Walking down the empty corridor, Harry felt his fears from last night coming back to haunt him. He paused outside the door labeled Examinations: Alchemy, Herbology, Potions, feeling as if he was going to sick up, but he finally gathered the courage to push down on the door handle and pull the door open. The door was heavy and seemed older than most of the Ministry that he had seen, creaking as it opened. It almost seemed to be telling him that he shouldn't go in, but he ignored the voice inside him telling him to run and he walked up to the tall desk where a bald man with puke color robes looked down at him.
"Waiting for someone, boy?" he asked, not too nicely, and Harry narrowed his eyes at the man, starting as the heavy door behind him closed with a bang.
"No, I'm here for the WPAM . . . I'm Harry Potter-Snape," he answered, more irritated than nervous at this point. His eyes narrowed further as the man's eyes traveled up to his forehead.
"Are ye now?" the man asked before looking at something on his desk and looking back up again, this time at his name tag. "So ye are, so ye are," he said. "A little young to be taken' the exam, now aren't ye?"
"I'm ready for it," Harry answered with confidence and the old man raised an eyebrow at him."
"Really, now? There was an eighteen year old who tried to take the exam, once, ye know. Left cryen' within the first hour, he did. Ye can't be more 'an fifteen . . . you ain't ready."
"I'm seventeen, and I've been studying under my father," Harry replied flatly. "Youngest to earn a masters, so far."
"'An' ye think you'll be the new youngest, eh? I doubt that," the man said before handing him a roll of parchment. "Fill that out. Have it done before 7:30."
"Right," Harry said, taking the roll and not bothering to be polite. He decided right there that he'd show them . . . he was going to be the youngest Potions Master, and he was going to do his absolute best to score very high. He'll prove all those who didn't think he'd do well wrong and he'd make his father proud. He knew that Severus would still care about him if he didn't – and he was beginning to understand that now, too – but it felt good when his dad would give him that look of pride.
Sitting down at one of the tables, away from the four other people filling out similar rolls, he took out his quill and inkwell and unrolled the first part. His name was already filled out for him, but underneath, there was a place for him to sign, so he did. The next question, though, was unexpected.
Blood Father's bloodline: Pureblood, Halfblood, Muggleborn, unknown
Blood Mother's bloodline: Pureblood, Halfblood, Muggleborn, unknown.
Wondering what that had to do with anything, Harry circled halfblood for Severus and muggleborn for his mother. Maybe it's just some sort of survey thing, like muggles have race, he thought before moving on to the next question.
Potions Master studied under? Well, that was as easy one, he thought as he wrote down Severus Snape. The next question asked for how many years he had been studying potions, not including up to NEWTs and Harry eventually wrote down one and a half years . . . he wasn't exactly sure when NEWT study transferred to mastery study, so he had to guess. Even so, he hesitated writing it, hoping that they weren't going to think he cheated or something because he hadn't studied very long.
Relax, he told himself. They have ways to prevent cheating. No one's going to think you cheated! The rest of the questions were similar, pertaining to job prospects and the such. Every so often, though, odd questions like, Did you learn with any muggleborns during your studies? popped in, and only then did he wonder if it was because of those new muggleborn laws that kept popping into existence. Most of them were small, but Harry heard everyone because of Hermione, and he wanted to strangle – or perhaps something a little more painful – Minister Drima for pushing through laws like that.
At seven thirty, an elderly woman came and collected all the rolls and the five of them were ushered into a room with six tables spaced out. Harry sat down in the one in the far corner and set down his writing supplies before looking forward. Everyone else was waiting the same as him.
It was then that another pain shot through his scar and he scrunched his eyes closed and willed the pain away. After a few moments it did and then Harry began actively occluding his mind – something he hadn't had to do in a long time. Looking around, he was grateful he took the back seat because no one had noticed what had happened.
It was a few minutes later when someone came in to hand out a thick pile of parchment to everyone and explain the rules: They had four hours to work on the exam, no cheating . . . it felt as if it went on forever, but they were finally allowed to sign their name and begin the exam.
Harry was surprised at the exam. He was expecting them to be all difficult problems similar to the ones Severus gave him as assignments; things like "list the ingredients in the order most suitable for a potion to relieve pain" when there was a list of 20 ingredients, but most were simple ones, like what the result would be if three or four ingredients were combined. After the first two pages, Harry became confident that he knew what he was doing and he was able to push forward with little effort compared to some of the things Severus shoved on him.
It wasn't until page 28 that something really stumped him. It was asking for the order of ingredients needed for a specific potion, but he didn't recognize two of the five ingredients. He stared at it for ten minutes before he became frustrated enough to move on, flustered. The remaining five pages felt as if they took an eternity, but when he thought he correctly answered the rest of the questions, he went back to that hard one.
In the end, he guessed. He didn't even bother thinking through it logically. He wrote down an order and then re-piled the pages neatly before cleaning his quill and closing the inkwell. Looking at the counting down time, he saw he still had an hour left and he nearly groaned. Sick of the thought of looking down at the desk for another hour, Harry reluctantly looked over his exam for any mistakes.
After the four hours were complete, they were given an hour to eat – lunch provided – in a small room that really didn't fit the five of them comfortably. They ate in silence until Harry looked up and saw one of the men – probably about 30 years – staring at him.
"So, you're seventeen, eh?" he asked and Harry nodded. "You must think the boy-who-lived would get special grading privileges, hmm?"
"No," Harry answered.
"Oh, right. Said you've been taught by your father. Severus Snape, right?" The man's voice was harsh and Harry wanted nothing more than to leave.
"Yeah, that's right," he answered instead.
"So tell me, what did you think of the written exam, then?" he asked, and Harry ended up shrugging.
"Wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be," he answered.
"Wasn't as hard?" someone else spoke up, a woman with a taunting in her voice. "Wasn't as hard as he thought, he says."
"Probably missed all those little tricks," a third person said, a man this time. "I barely even finished."
"I didn't finish," said the first man. "I had three pages to go when time was called. Tell me, Potter, how far did you get?"
"I finished," Harry answered quietly, feeling less confident now.
"I doubt you did well," said the man. "You're too young." After that, the other four talked among themselves, some about the exam and some about other things. Harry just sat there, thinking over the exam and wondering if he really did do as well as he thought he did. Quite honestly, the exam didn't seem that hard, but . . .
By the time the hour was finished, Harry felt as if he was going to lose everything he had just ate. He was slightly more relieve, though, when they were all shown to separate rooms for the practical. As the rules were relayed to him, he began to feel better.
"You will have four hours to brew three potions and to brew a new potion of your making," the grading lady finished as she handed him the booklet he was to work from. "You may begin."
Harry opened the booklet to the first page. You will choose three of the following, unlabeled potions to brew. Your object is to choose three potions that would work for aiding in the growth of mundane plants.
Harry flipped through the next twenty potions, each only label with a number. After looking over each of the ingredients, he concluded that at least 4 of the potions were for plants and he chose three that had ingredients which symbolized growth of some sort. Calculating, he realized it was a good choice if for nothing else than that they were set up in a way where he could brew all three of them at once. That was something he was happy about, because maybe he'd be able to get out of there earlier.
Grabbing three of the five cauldrons in the room, Harry set each of them up with the needed amount of water and began setting up the ingredients in the order he would need them. Then, he spent the next fifteen minutes doing his best to remember each potion before starting.
It wasn't the first time he had brewed three new potions at once, but it was the first time where he only had one book to work out of. It didn't help that each of the potion directions were several pages apart and it was hard to keep track of them. Still, by the time the final potion was finished, he decided they were good enough not to redo any of them and he moved onto the final task.
His heart still beating quickly from nerves, Harry was having trouble with the last problem. Using five ingredients, brew a potion that would grow facial hair five centimeters. Using five ingredients. At that point, he managed to think of one that involved four of the ingredients supplied, but not five.
After a few moments, it hit him, though. He would need an ingredient which would stop the growth of hair after five centimeters . . . Harry laughed, earning an odd look from the grader, but then he set to work.
An hour and a half – and three tries – later, he managed to produce to potion he was sure would work. He cleaned up and then announced he was finished.
"Bottle each potion, then, and make sure you mark each one. Leave the booklet and the potions for grading on the desk. Your exam should be finished grading in about an hour. You can wait or you can leave."
"I'll wait," Harry said as he began bottling the potions.
"Then wait in the main room," she said, nearly snapping, and Harry did as he was told.
It was actually only a half an hour until he was handed an envelop and told he was finished. Harry glared at the envelope in his hands as if it was a disease and he shoved it in his pocket before he left, ignoring the smirk of the man at the tall desk.
He flooed home to find Severus sitting in the living room. His father looked up, surprised at his entrance.
"I wasn't expecting you for another couple hours," he admitted. "How was the exam?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugged.
"You didn't wait for the results?"
"I did," he answered, pulling the envelope from his robes. "Didn't look at them, yet." Harry dropped the envelope on the small table next to the sofa.
"Are you going to?" Severus asked, sounding worried.
"No. You can, if you want. Don't tell me how bad I did, though."
"I'm sure you did fine," Severus answered, picking up the envelope. Harry sat roughly down on the sofa and picked up the day's Daily Prophet, pointedly ignoring his dad's movements. He skimmed over the first page, finding nothing of interest, and he turned to the second. An article on the bottom of the page caught his attention.
Muggleborn Admittance is Limited
A new law was passed yesterday morning which now limits muggleborn entry into a British wizarding school. Decisions are the same for jobs: the family of muggleborns will be researched before a letter of acceptance is sent. If the muggleborn's family history is not considered acceptable, the child will not be accepted.
This brought up several questions about what would be done with the muggleborn child. Some believe it is cruel to not allow a wizard child into our world, so further decisions are in the process of being made. It has been decided that if the muggleborn child has too much magical power to stay safely in the muggle world, exceptions may be made. The details of this law have not yet been decided on but are expected to be finalized before August 1st
- - - - - - - - - - - - – - - -
"That's horrible," Severus heard Harry said and looked up from his son's results to see what the problem was. Harry was holding the Daily Prophet, so he was sure what the boy was talking about. "Have you read this?"
"Yes."
"It's horrible!"
"It is," Severus agreed. He didn't want to talk about the injustices muggleborns were receiving lately, though. He knew it was important to his son, but it was quite honestly the last thing on his mind. First and foremost was the Mastery potions results. "Harry, you passed."
"I can't believe they would just refuse . . . what?" Harry asked, obviously confused for a moment about what Severus was talking about. "Wait, you mean I passed the potions mastery?" Severus nodded. "You can't be serious."
"I am," Severus said, handing the results to his son. "You did an excellent job, actually. Higher score than I earned."
"Really?" Harry asked, still sounding as if he didn't believe him. He watched as Harry looked at the results with eyes wide. "982 out of 1000 for the written?" There was such an air of disbelief in his voice that Severus had to stand up and sit next to his son.
"And 970 out of 1000 for the practical," Severus pointed out.
"I can't believe it," Harry finally said after several minutes of just staring at the results. "They were . . . the others were talking about how hard it was and they were so much older than me. I thought I must have failed . . ."
"But you didn't, Harry," Severus said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations."
Finally, Harry smiled at looked up at him. "I can't believe it," he said with conviction, but then he shook his head. "I'm going to take a nap." Severus smile back as Harry stood up. "I feel like I'm going to pass out."
Shaking his head, Severus examined his son's results once again. He was expecting his son to pass, but the score he received really were almost unbelievable. He felt he couldn't be any more proud of his son than he did at that moment.