CHAPTER FIVE: RESPECT
Icarus crouched down in front of the cauldron, sniffing softly. He raised his eyebrows.
"You hate Professor Lupin," he called across the office.
"Yes," Snape called back.
"It's not cause he's a werewolf, is it?"
A jar shattered and Snape swore. Icarus stood up and turned around. They stared at each other for a moment before Snape's shoulders slumped.
"When did you figure it out?" he asked, cleaning up the mess he'd made.
"Just now," said Icarus honestly.
"Where do you even get your brain from?" asked Snape.
"Thought I got it from you," Icarus said.
He ducked before the paperweight could hit it's target.
. . .
Hagrid pulled him aside after another, very unsatisfying class about horklumps.
"Have yeh spoken ter Malfoy?" he asked.
"No," said Icarus, confused, "why?"
The big, bushy eyebrows drew close together.
"Yeh must've," said Hagrid.
"I haven't, Hagrid," said Icarus, "not since what happened with Buckbeak."
He'd heard all about it from Hermione the day after it'd happened.
"But..."
"What about it, anyway?"
"Well, y'know how the Malfoys are," said Hagrid, "a whole bunch o' rotten prunes, the lot o' them, only - well, he's been comin' down ter help me garden this past month. He even skipped the Hogsmeade trip fer it. I wondered, y'know, if you'd said anythin'."
Icarus stared at Hagrid. He'd heard him right...right?
"He's...been coming..." he said, feeling unusually slow, "to help you garden?"
Hagrid nodded.
"He skipped Hogsmeade?" asked Icarus.
Hagrid nodded again.
Icarus looked at the bracelet on his wrist. A cat's face caught in the sunlight and seemed to wink at him.
He groaned.
. . .
Draco yelped as something hit his arm and looked to see what it was. Reaching down, he picked up a ragged looking pouch.
"You should use that," said Icarus, appearing next to him from out of nowhere. Draco almost fell out of his seat, startled.
"Do you do that often?" he asked, heart racing.
"Do what?" asked Icarus, examining his nails.
"Scare people," said Draco.
"Not on purpose," said Icarus, "anyway, go on. Open it."
Draco looked at the pouch suspiciously and then opened it. There was nothing inside.
"Did you think I cursed it or something?" asked Icarus, his blue eyes glittering with mirth, "That, my friend, is a mokeskin pouch. No one but you can open it now."
At Draco's clear confusion, Icarus' mood seemed to fall. He dropped the hand he'd been examining.
"I can take it back if you don't -"
"No!" blurted out Draco, "No - it's fine. It's just - that's the first time you've called me your friend."
"Oh," said Icarus, "is it? really?"
. . .
Late in the morning of the first Quidditch match - Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor (Flint had used Draco's arm as an excuse to get out of the weather) - Icarus slammed the door to his father's office open and stormed inside.
The door shut behind him and Snape stopped what he was working on, surprised.
"Really?" snapped Icarus, crossing his arms, "I know you don't like Gryffindor and I don't care if you were in a bad mood but there was absolutely no need to call Hermione an insufferable know-it-all. None."
Snape put his quill down, dropping his glamour.
"If you're mad at Professor Lupin, take it out on him," Icarus snapped, "not on my fucking friends. What did he do that makes you hate him so much anyway? I know you don't just hold lifelong grudges for no reason."
"I think -" Snape said quietly, unsure how to react to Icarus' anger, "I think it's better if I just show you."
Icarus sat down across from him and crossed his ankles. They met each others eyes -
Icarus was pulled through a curtain of sound and color until he landed softly in a green field. They were at the yew tree he so often frequented near the lake.
There was a boy there, no older than fourteen, studying quietly. With mild surprise, Icarus realized it was his father.
There was a burst of laughter and he watched a small group of students walk over, shoving each other. One of them looked remarkably like Harry and another...
"Is that Professor Lupin?" he asked Snape, who stood next to him, watching the scene with burning eyes.
He nodded.
The younger Snape noticed them coming over and hurried to put his books away.
"Hey, Snivellus!" roared the boy that looked like Harry, "where're you off too?"
Snape didn't reply, but stood up and tried to get past them. Another boy with shoulder length black hair shoved him back and Icarus found himself flinching.
Snape scrambled to pick up the belongings of his bag.
"Didn't you hear the question, Snape?" asked the boy.
"Just because I heard it doesn't mean I need to respond," replied Snape.
There was an 'ooh' from the small crowd that had formed.
"Trying to be brave now?" asked James (Icarus had finally remembered the name of Harry's dad).
"Go on, James," said the other boy, "show him."
Snape was too late in getting his wand.
"Levicorpus!"
Icarus watched his father get dragged into the air by his ankle, hanging upside down. The students roared with laughter and Lupin simply watched.
"Who wants to see them then?" laughed James, "I wonder what little Snivellus Snape wears under his pants!"
Snape's pants vanished, leaving him in a pair of very ordinary looking boxers. He flushed with embarrassment.
"JAMES POTTER!" roared a young girl, running up to them, "What are you doing? Put him down!"
"He deserved it," snarled James, letting him drop to the ground regardless. She went to help him up, her green eyes worried, but he shoved her away.
"I don't need help from a damn mudblood," he said angrily, before freezing.
The regret dawned on his face too late.
Then they were outside and it was raining...James enchanted a ball of mud to hit him...
There was a tree...a howl...
"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?!"
Dumbledore's voice echoed towards him..."He has her eyes"...
And then Icarus was slammed back in his chair, the fury clear in his eyes.
"So that's why," he said quietly, "because when they bullied you, he did nothing."
He stood up.
"Where are you going?" asked Snape.
"Back to my room," said Icarus, "I have an essay to finish."
. . .