Disclaimer: Harry Potter will never belong to me. I can only wish.
I want to thank Hanna-Liatris again for her review, and due to the requests of KK, I've decided to try and upload faster in the holidays.
Anyways, please review. Here's your chapter. By the way, I'll be ever so grateful if those of you who haven't reviewed my last chapter would review that too.
"That's it…bring up your shield when you see it coming… side step!"
With a sort of grace in his step, the raven haired boy deftly brought up a shimmering silver shield, effectively blocking the incoming spell, while neatly side-stepping the other curse.
Having evaded both spells, the boy grinned cheerfully and let his shield fade into nothingness.
"You're not done yet, Potter! Keep your wits about!"
A bombardment of fierce spells was sent flying towards Harry, and Harry knew instantly he wouldn't be able to prepare a sufficient shield quickly enough.
Instead, he dropped to his stomach on the ground, narrowly avoiding the lowest of the spells by a mere few centimetres.
The sender of the spells let out a small scoff as Harry clambered back on his feet.
"Potter, you'll be the death of me one day. You certainly deserve praises for your swift decision making and reflexes, but…" Snape sighed irritably. "Potter, do tell me what today's session is about."
Harry's grin drifted slowly off his face as he stared at the Slytherin Head. "I'm supposed to be learning how to conjure different shields."
"Exactly," Snape snapped. "You already know how to dodge and duck. It's somewhere in your natural instinct. What you do need to focus on is your shield!"
"Sorry sir," said Harry meekly.
"Potter, do remind me again why I'm wasting my time teaching you extra things that are not a part of my responsibility."
Harry blinked. "Umm…uh… It's because you want to?"
"When you put it like that, you make me sound like some dim witted idiot," muttered Snape. "I feel responsible for you – as I do for all my house members. I educate all my students in subjects they're lacking. For God's Sake, Draco is a much better pupil than you."
"But Professor," Harry protested. "I'm not behind in the things you teach me; I'm ahead actually. Professor Flitwick isn't planning on teaching us shields for another half year at least. And the other spells… most of them my classmates haven't even heard of."
"Then what are you suggesting, Potter?" Snape asked, voice lowered dangerously.
"Look, Professor, you may teach me all you like – obviously for your own reasons, maybe because of your pride or whatever – and I actually enjoy the lessons, but please, you're leaving me no time for flying or Quidditch!"
"I'm teaching you because I'm proud of you, is that what you're saying?" Professor Snape questioned. "And quit complaining – your flying games are not half as important as what I'm teaching you."
"I'm not saying you're proud of me. My point is that I know you're not treating the other Slytherins half as harshly as you're treating me, but I don't know the reason."
"Is that what you call my lessons; harsh treatments? I assure you, Potter, that many students would love to be in your position."
"Sorry, Professor. I didn't know." Harry smiled innocently.
"Watch it, Potter, before your cheek gets you into unwarranted trouble," said Snape. "In matters of all seriousness, though, you're proceeding too slowly. Recall what you have learned so far, in the six months I have been tutoring you."
"Basic charms like accio and silencio, offensive curses, shields, basic footwork…and that's it," said Harry. "But, it felt like I've learned much more than that. The large areas I've accomplished are covered in just one word."
Snape exhaled heavily, exasperatedly. "I just want you to know that there's a formal duelling competition next week. It's highly important. Only a selected number of students from the whole school are actually competing. Luckily you are one of them. Prepare what you need to. And don't forget to practise the seven different shields I've taught you this week during the weekend."
"Yes, Professor," said Harry dutifully. "Have a nice weekend."
"Wait, don't go yet. I cannot express to you exactly how important this competition is. If you win, and I do believe you stand a chance of being one of the finalists, you will be rewarded with more than you can possibly imagine. It'll also be a chance for you to prove yourself in front of your classmates, and housemates. I have trained you well, but you will need all your strength to even consider winning. You'll be up against students with six more years of experience than yourself."
"You're joking right?" Harry blurted. "About the competition, I mean."
"Potter, you know me. I don't joke."
"There's no way I'll even make it through the first round if I get paired up with someone from a higher year."
"Have a little confidence in yourself. I've always seen you as an optimist," said Snape, with a smirk.
"I'm a realist, Professor. I'd humiliate myself in front of the whole school. Who else is competing that's a first year?"
"Draco Malfoy will be. So will three others."
This time, Harry gave a small smile. "Even if I cannot win, I know I can beat Malfoy."
"Believe what you wish, Potter. Just remember to prepare yourself. Come to me on Monday night – we'll go through the things you need to know for the competition on Wednesday."
"Can I not compete?" Harry tried.
"No!"
"Okay then, I'll prepare myself."
"Just go, Potter."
Snape watched as the door slammed shut. If it was even possible, the boy's cheek towards him had become more pronounced as he adapted to Snape's sarcastic personality.
During the last six months he had kept a tight eye on Potter's progress. Not just academically, but also his social status in Slytherin and other parts of his daily life.
The boy was doing okay, he supposed, with a little help from him. Professor Snape had gathered all the first year Slytherins after the week he had met with Bellatrix in the astronomy tower, and in cunningly chosen words, told them to act civil towards Potter.
Being Slytherin's widely respected House Head, it worked. Just as well as he had expected.
Although Potter still had occasional flair-ups, the Slytherins were reasonably civilised, most of the time. Or at least as much as they could be.
While he had taken Potter under his wing, in an attempt to tutor the boy – which often resulted in his own exhaustion – Bellatrix had also chosen to coach a student she had deemed 'worthy' of the Dark Lord's attention.
The girl, jealously guarded by Bellatrix, was a fifth year Slytherin, who was, very likely, the smartest and most powerful witch of her year.
The girl's name was Daphne Greengrass, older sister to first year Slytherin, Astoria Greengrass.
Snape had never been in particularly close contact with the girl. But from what he had seen of her in Potion classes, she was competent, to say the least.
Meanwhile, the Dark Lord was becoming increasingly impatient for him and Bellatrix to find him the right students. Lord Voldemort had even taken to pressuring him, with promised threats, every week.
He and Bellatrix had tried to assure the Dark Lord that they were making progress, but it was clear he didn't believe them. In fact, Lord Voldemort had actually tried to pick out students himself – but soon gave up due to the difficulty of seeing who had potential just by staring at them in corridors or the great hall.
Severus Snape gave a tired sigh.
Potter was unpredictable, but he did have a fire inside him and an unquenchable thirst to prove himself. Hopefully, if Snape's calculation was right, that would motivate Potter to try his best.
Snape silently cursed himself. He couldn't believe he was placing the importance of Lord Voldemort's request on such a young child. If that child failed him now… Snape could only hope Bellatrix's Daphne Greengrass would please the Dark Lord.
"Oh, Harry, congratulations! I'm so happy for you – you have to take up this opportunity," Hermione shrieked excitedly. "Who could have guessed Professor Snape could be so nice to you?"
Harry blinked. The day Snape could be described using the word 'nice' was the day he ate the Sorting Hat. "Thanks, Hermione."
He set down his dinnerware nervously as Hermione smothered him.
Taken slightly aback by the down-cast tone, Hermione leaned back to inspect Harry's face. "What's wrong? This is your chance, Harry. You can use this to impress the Professors, show the Slytherins what's what, and get good grades… I'd give anything to be you."
"If I don't get wiped out by Malfoy in the first round and embarrass myself in front of the whole school," Harry muttered.
Hermione gave Harry a long stare and set her own plate down on the table. "Look, no one expects you to win. Do you know how much you've accomplished just by getting in?"
"Yes, but –"
"Do you really think Professor Snape would let you embarrass yourself when he's the one who taught you? I know for a fact he is very fond of maintaining his pride and dignity."
"I know I'm not expected to win, but my point is that I'll be one of the worst."
"It doesn't matter if you lose in the first round, it really doesn't. What if you got paired up with someone who's not a first year? They'd have years more experience than you."
"Look, I just don't want to lose!" Harry snapped.
"You can't possibly humiliate yourself when nobody expects anything from you," Hermione said logically.
Harry gave a strained smile. "Is that supposed to be a comfort or an insult? Besides, Snape just about told me in subtle words he'd skin me alive if I don't make it to the finals," he said.
"Don't worry about him."
"I'm not just scare of embarrassing myself, I –"
"Yes?" Hermione asked jokingly, raising her eyebrows. "What else are you terrified of?"
Harry had to grin slightly. "I want to win. I know I can't, but I want to. I want to prove to them I'm not just some worthless rag left out in the sun to dry."
"Well then, Harry, that means you'd have to do your best, won't you?" Hermione beamed. "Do your best, Harry, and I'll be amazed if anyone can stand in your way."
Hermione's words had worked their magic. He could just feel the burden lift from his shoulders.
"I promise I'll skin you alive if you're beaten by Malfoy."
"I won't be."
Harry looked determinedly at Hermione. "I may not win, but I will make myself a worthy opponent."
Hermione smiled at him in relief. "That's the spirit. I'll be vouching for you."
"Malfoy's going down."
"Alligaveritis!"
Smoky black ropes wove their way out of Snape's wand and dove towards Harry, each coming at a different direction, making sure he couldn't dodge them.
Harry brought his own wand down with a swish. "Protego!"
The ropes clashed against his shield, producing a terrible sound of splitting glass. Instead of fading away into nothingness, the ropes whipped across the surface of the shield again and again.
It was like no spell he had ever seen before. Harry gritted his teeth and strengthened his shield, only to have the ropes lash across it yet again.
While Harry busied himself with the shield, he saw Snape muttering another curse out of the corner of his eye.
"Sectumsempra."
Harry saw Snape's wand waving odd patterns in the air before finally jabbing towards him. A moment later, two things happened simultaneously.
The first thing was that gashes cut into Harry's wrist.
The second thing was that Harry's lost concentration resulted in his shield being shattered, and the ropes zoomed towards him before finally wrapping him in a painfully tight grasp.
Suddenly, Harry was dangling in an undignified manner in the arr.
"Let me go," he managed through clenched teeth.
The ropes dumped him unceremoniously back on the ground.
Harry stared at the bloody slashes on his wrist, wincing. The cuts formed two crimson coloured words: Work Harder.
Not amused by his pain, Harry looked up and bared his teeth. "I'm working my hardest already!"
"No, Potter, you're not. Stand up and try again."
Harry stood, with a look of defiance, ignoring the throbbing of his wrist; not willing to show any weakness in front of Snape.
"Your shields are still pathetically feeble. You need to be able to fortify them without them taking up so much of your concentration.
Harry made a sound resembling a snort, appearing indifferent as Snape shot an icy glare his way. "I'm never going to meet your standards."
"Oh yes, you will."
Harry shrugged, in the aimless way that he knew irritated Snape.
"Brace yourself, Potter," said Snape maliciously. "Keep your shields up this time, or there'll be quite a few injuries like the one on your wrist coming your way.
"Will the words be 'you are a worthless idiot' this time?"
"Hmm…I think I'll take that into consideration," said Snape, smirking slightly.
Deep down, Harry knew the smartest thing to do was to cooperate with the Slytherin Head and prepare himself as much as possible – as the duelling competition was the very next day.
But Harry couldn't seem to find the tolerance within himself to do such a thing.
He was still feeling sore – in every sense of the word – about what Snape had done to his wrist. Harry knew he was being childishly precious; it wasn't as if any true harm had been done to him.
Most likely, Snape had made a poor attempt at comedy; that tactic did match the Professor's cynical sense of humour perfectly.
But as silly and flimsy as Harry felt, the hex hovered too close to the thin line separating strictness and cruelty for his comfort.
It seemed to be something Carrow would do… although Harry had no doubts about whose intentions were better.
Perhaps the reason he was feeling slightly miffed right now was because he had grown to – for lack of a better word – trust the Potions Master during the past months. He had familiarised himself with Snape's sarcasm and even accepted it. In fact, Hermione was beginning to say it was rubbing off on him.
"Potter!" Snape's sharp, reprimanding voice sliced through Harry's thoughts.
"Yes, Professor?"
"I said get your shield ready."
Hesitating for only the smallest stretch of period, Harry said directly to Snape's face, "I really am no good with shields."
Snape fell eerily silent.
For a moment, Harry thought he was going to receive a harsh retort. But when Snape looked at Harry again, he nodded stiffly as if he was considering what Harry had said.
"Then we'll focus on spells for now," Snape said curtly.
Harry blinked, taken aback for the unusual compliance.
"I want you to learn the two spells I've just performed. The incantations are 'alligaveritis' and 'sectumsempra'. The guidelines are very simple – just pronounce the incantations correctly and focus all your willpower on the desired effect."
"Alright."
To Harry's relief, the spells were comparatively easier. By his eighth attempt, he executed the binding spell with speed and precision. Even with Snape breathing down his neck in an intimidating manner didn't put Harry off.
The Sectumsempra curse was more difficult. It demanded a lot of willpower.
"Focus, Potter!" Snape barked. "Your mind is wandering. You need complete concentration for this hex. And how would I know? I designed this curse myself."
Instantly, all efforts at concentration were brushed aside as Harry leapt up excitedly. "You created a spell?"
"Close your mouth, Potter. It'll catch flies."
Harry took it as a 'yes'. "How do you invent a new spell? It's not like inventing machines, is it?"
Snape sighed in an annoyed way. "I shall tell you if you manage to learn it within ten minutes."
Harry knew it was a bribe, but he really was interested. So he gave it his best. Within five minutes, he got a satisfying result.
"Sectumsempra!"
He felt a gust of pure, undiluted magic whoosh from the very tips of his fingers right to his chest, which pumped his lifeblood. It was followed by an overpowering feeling of… something indescribable…something that generated a mixture of longing, awe, and resistance from him.
In many ways, the feeling was identical to the feeling when he performed the Cruciatus, but it was altered.
When Harry asked Snape to explain how to create new spells, Snape refused, saying, "Later, when you win tomorrow's competition."
After that they spent another four hours preparing.
Near the end of the session, Professor Snape told Harry they would have one final duel.
Harry nodded half-heartedly, with sweat drops clinging onto his black fringe. He was beyond exhausted. Snape was a slave driver.
All he really wanted to do right now was get to the dormitory and sleep for a month.
"Focus, Potter," reminded Snape as he got into duelling stance with his wand held, ready to strike, above his head.
Harry took a deep, drained, puff of air and dipped his head – too spent to take the trouble even to nod.
"On the count of three; one, two…three!" Snape shouted.
A red-hot and burning ball of all-consuming flames burst out of the Professor's wand and headed straight for Harry.
A bit dazed by the bright light, Harry reacted stiffly but just in time. He conjured water which doused the flames with a few sizzling sounds just before it reached him.
Harry looked up again, to see Snape draw a deep, long line in the air. It was a non-verbal spell. And Harry thought he could guess what it was. He dove immediately for the ground. The Sectumsempra cut through a few strands of his hair and sliced a chair behind Harry right in half.
He frowned at Snape and raised a questioning eyebrow. What game was the Professor playing? If the curse had touched Harry, the wound could be fatal, if he didn't get chopped in half that was.
Professor Snape didn't even look like he was aware of Harry's near-demise. His face was hard and focused, throwing spell after spell at Harry.
"Putro. Confringo! Diffindo! Incarcerous."
They rained down on Harry, who wasn't expecting an attack of this vicious nature. "Protego!" The vehemence of the oncoming spells made Harry flinch. He half expected his shield to crumble when the spells met. It didn't. His shield held strong and swallowed every one of the offensive jinxes.
"Incendio. Reducto. Levicorpus."
"Professor!" Harry gasped. He quickly sidestepped two of the spells but the leg of his pants caught fire. "Aguamenti! I can't catch up with you anymore. Professor, stop, please!"
Snape paid him no heed. "Reducto!"
"Protego!" His shield came out in a brilliantly bright and transparent blue. The mere sight of his should have taken his breath away, during normal circumstances.
Right now, however, Harry didn't even notice.
"Ictus! Optundo."
The two foreign sounding curses burst Harry's shield like a bubble. Quick a speed Harry never knew he had, he conjured another, more powerful one, halting the two spells centimetres from his face.
"Professor! Stop! I've had enough for one day. I don't want to do this anymore," Harry called.
Snape did not give him any signal that he had heard him.
"Protego!"
Harry took in a big gulp of air. For a number of times he couldn't even remember, he had used this spell again.
His head felt light as a massive force bashed at him. He thought he was flying backwards, but he was still standing firmly on solid ground.
Incredibly his shield had held, again.
Hatred and loathing dripped like poison from Snape's expression. "Crucio!" Snape shouted. "Offensio!"
Harry felt deathly cold as he heard the Cruciatus Curse being uttered.
This wasn't a simple duel. Snape was truly intending to hurt or maim him. As soon as the realisation occurred, Harry also realised if Snape wanted to kill him, he would not be able to defend himself.
Harry gave a bitter smile that seemed so detached, given the circumstances. What a poor, pathetic boy he was, unable to even protect himself.
There was a voice lingering at the back of his head, wondering whether Snape was truly intending to hurt him. Filled with disgust, Harry shoved that thought back.
He couldn't believe he was contemplating Snape's kind intentions while the wizard hurled spell after deadly spell at him.
Most of the lethal spells that came out of Snape's mouth, Harry had never even heard of.
And that brought up the question: how do you protect yourself against something you don't even know?
Harry reeled back as a fierce stinging hex hit him in the shoulder. Followed by a cutting hex slicing deep into his right hand.
Blood spurted everywhere.
Harry stumbled, before gaining his footing again – just quick enough to snap up another shield as a defence against another bulleting volley of curses.
"Please! Professor? Professor! Stop…stop!"
Harry knew how desperate his pleads were. But the only reply from Snape was more deadly curses.
Snape's expression had twisted into something monstrous, something ugly and inhumane. Fear gripped at Harry's heart. His only chance was to drop his defensive stance and retaliate.
"Avis Oppungo!" Harry cried, seizing the first opportunity he came across.
A flock of yellow canaries assaulted Snape.
One wave of his wand, however, vanished all of them.
It seemed Harry's resistance had brought even more of Snape's wrath on him.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The Killing Curse. Most deadly spell ever known to wizardry. Fortunately, it landed metres away from Harry.
This confirmed it. Snape wasn't seeking to torture Harry. He wanted to murder him. Harry knew that if he didn't do something soon, he would die by the man's hand.
"Sectumsempra!" Harry shouted.
The dark curse flew past Snape's defences and slit his black robes, narrowly missing his right arm.
Harry experienced the same irresistible feeling he felt before. This time, however, he hardly registered it. "Confundo!"
He used Snape's temporary surprise to his advantage.
It missed by a few centimetres.
Even Snape looked a bit taken aback by Harry's sudden recovery and retribution.
Without missing a beat, Harry aimed two spells at Snape. One five or six seconds after the other. The stinging hex, Snape sidestepped neatly, but the first only served as a distraction. The second one, aguamenti, hit Snape in the leg and knocked him back.
Harry took this chance to hurl another curse. "Confringo!"
It missed by a long shot.
By now, Snape had recovered. He looked Harry straight in the eye and gave a dark sneer that Harry had never seen him use before.
His sneers were mocking while this one was…insane.
"Potter, you never expected something like this, did you?" Snape laughed. It was a horrible, low, lifeless sound that echoed again and again through Harry's mind. It was so unalike Snape. But then, what did he know about the Professor?
"You're stupid, worthless, incapable of standing on your own two feet. If I take your life tonight, I do not see how the world would miss a scrawny dunderhead as yourself."
Harry's mind had entered a panicky state. He felt like he was inches away from blacking out. But each time he felt the whiteness coming to claim him, he'd fight it, struggle against it – just as he was struggling against Snape, the man he had trusted.
"Crucio. Langlock!"
To Harry's horror, the Cruciatus whirled towards him and struck him in the middle of his chest. He was thrown back, the force of the curse hurling his body like a leaf across the room.
The breath was knocked out of him and he crashed into the wall, but the agony he expected did not come.
The second spell, Langlock, however spun in a spiral towards him. In Harry's helpless state, he couldn't dodge.
As soon as the spell came in contact, Harry felt his tongue glued firmly to the roof of his mouth. "Mmhh!" he mumbled.
Suddenly, he understood its purpose. As long as he couldn't utter the incantation, he couldn't protect himself.
"Well, Potter, you did put up a rather good fight. Now, however, we have all the time in the world between us," said Snape. He placed the tip of his wand below Harry's chin and forced his head up. "I can cast the Cruciatus on you as many times as I want."
Harry let out a small yelp.
"I wonder if you'll beg for mercy."
Harry squirmed. Somehow, he could, just couldn't believe Snape was doing this, saying this. It seemed too much like something Voldemort would say.
But since he was going to die anyway, he might as well ask.
"Are you actually Snape?"
The shocked expression on Snape's face was his old one; not like his sneer that changed so much.
"Need I really answer that, Mr Potter?"
Snape's familiar wry smirk.
It disappeared as soon as it came. And the familiar Snape was instantly replaced by this new, hateful one.
"You know… I really shouldn't be surprised by your incompetence. Your swine of a father was the same."
Harry glared balefully at Snape.
"I can say anything I want. A dead body's not going to stop me."
Harry froze.
"Yes, I can kill you if I want."
Perhaps it was that sentence that triggered Harry's magic. Perhaps Harry's own helpless position was why his oblivious mind directed his magic upwards so that it could protect him in this perilous situation.
Whatever it was, in the period of a few seconds, Harry turned from the helpless victim to the wizard with the upper hand. He had never felt so much power at his disposal. It was truly amazing.
Suddenly, he could speak again. His hands itched to use the numerous curses he could think of on Snape. His fingertips practically glowed with the magic flowing through them.
"Incarcerous!"
Harry had never performed anything with so much ease. Ropes twisted themselves around Snape before he could respond, before he even registered what had happened.
Harry stepped in front of the bound Professor. "Why?" he asked. "Why would you want to hurt me?"
He could feel his bursts of magic rapidly fading away, but it didn't matter anymore. Harry took a few extra precautions and took away Snape's wand.
To his astonishment, there was a little smile on Snape's face, full of triumph.
To his even greater astonishment, Snape brought his hands slowly together. "I applause you, Potter. I do hope I wouldn't make your head even bigger… but your performance was marvellous."
Harry's head was spinning. The word 'marvellous' was an impossibly high praise coming from Snape, but…
"At this rate, you'll win the competition."
Confused, Harry turned to look at Snape again. "You tried to kill me."
It came out sounding accusing.
Snape smirked his old smirk. "Exactly. I must also applaud my own acting skills, then. But in all honesty, Potter, you were easy to fool."
"You mean… you didn't really mean to kill me?"
Harry couldn't believe it. It had all been a stupid trick, to get him to react. He couldn't believe how Snape had toyed with him and his mind in such a disrespectful way.
Harry shook his head angrily. "Well, that was taking it rather far, if you ask me. Wait, no! You never bothered to ask my permission!"
Snape sighed in an infuriating way. "Potter, don't be thick. It was the only way for your magic to come out and present itself. Did you see how many successful shields you managed? You even ruined my robes."
"That was a violation of my rights as a human being! 'I can kill you if I want'? 'I wonder if you'll beg for mercy'? I cannot believe how ridiculous this whole thing was! You threw numerous Cruciatus and even an Avada Kedavra at me! Was it all so I'd believe your fraud? What if, just say what if, your Avada Kedavra and Cruciatus actually hit me? I suppose I'd experience a few seconds of agony I'd never felt in my life if it was the Cruciatus… so no big deal, but what about the Avada Kedavra?"
"The Avada Kedavra was purposely directed away from you, which was why I missed you by such a long distance. Do you think I naturally have such rubbish aim? As for the Cruciatus, you actually were hit by that one. And did you feel any pain?"
"Yes! I crashed against the wall! It's such a great relief to know I wasn't going to get tortured or killed in the first place, by the way!" Harry snarled.
"Potter, don't be childish. You've proved yourself more than ready for tomorrow, by the way. Take your leave anytime you want, and try and sleep your silly anger off, will you?"
With that Snape turned on his heels and left the room, leaving Harry to glare angrily after him.
Hehe. Please tell me if you fell for it, just like Harry. The competitions will be in the next chapter. Please give me reviews!