Harry lay awake, thinking of the third task. He didn't dare try and sleep
for fear of waking the camp up with one of his nightmares. Curse his
selfless nature; he should have taken the Cup when Cedric told him to.
Then he wouldn't have been killed. He shook his head clear of that thought
and heard a rustling in the bushes. Slowly, he stood to investigate.
Snape was walking along, not really caring about being sneaky now. The Potter boy had once again ruined his chance at something peaceful. His first year, Snape was looking forward to exposing Quirrel for what he was, but Potter beat him to it. Second year, curse the boy, he defeated Voldemort, which sent heat his way from the Death Eaters. Third year, the boy lost him his Order of Merlin; Snape had yet to figure out how. Now, in his fourth year, he had not only forced Snape to expose himself to the Minister, he was taking up his precious holiday time as well.
As he neared the campground, the smell of burnt meat filled his nostrils. His ears detected the sound of nearly every snorer in every tent. His night-vision let him see the position of everything, and ways around them. Now, to find the brat and report back to Dumbledore that he's being treated like a king.
Nearing the campsite, he spotted a makeshift tent, made from extra poles and a ratty blanket. Surely no one is roughing that much when there are tents nearby, he thought. He slinked over to find a shivering form on the ground. Emerald eyes darted up and widened in panic. Frantically searching for anything to use as a weapon, Harry backed up and tripped, sending him sprawling to the ground. He cried out in pain and a voice rang from the tent nearest him, loud enough for Harry to hear, but not the camp.
"Boy! What are you doing! If you don't go back to sleep you won't eat for a month and you'll sleep on the back porch." Not knowing what else to do, Snape returned to human form and strode over to the prone boy, who was now staring at the potions master in shock. He was clutching his ankle, and holding back tears.
"Sir? Why are you here?"
"Quiet Potter. Did you not think to use your wand?"
"I don't have my wand," Harry snapped back. Snape stared at the boy in amazement. In the mere days he had left Hogwarts, he had lost almost ten pounds. There was a fist-sized bruise on his cheek, and cuts on his ankles. Snape ventured that there were many on his leg as well, but many if not all of those could have come from playing in the forest.
"Well, where is it?"
"Buried out in the Dursley's backyard somewhere. They couldn't burn it with everything else, so they buried it, along with my cloak." Snape stared at Harry. This was not the boy that had left on the train days ago. He was thinner, his facial features were more pronounced, and his hair was longer.
Snape sighed, ready for this whole night to be over. "How are you faring?" he strained. Harry looked at the potions master in shock. Was he actually asking how he was? He had just found his voice when they heard a rustling. Quickly, Snape transformed and hid, and Vernon came barreling through the forest.
"What is this?!? You stole poles from our tents to make one for yourself eh? And where did you get this blanket from?" Vernon had marched over and grabbed Harry roughly by the shoulder. "Think you can steal from us, eh?" He brought a large beefy fist up and brought it down on Harry's shoulder. Snape was frozen to the spot. Until he heard the crack. Vernon had kicked Harry in the stomach, and while he was on the ground had stomped on his calf. The sickening crack that followed signaled that Harry's shin bones had been broken. Snape leapt from his position in the bushes and landed right in front of the man. Vernon shoved Harry in the direction of the large black panther.
"Go on, boy, use your magic and get rid of it!" Harry yelped in pain from the pressure on his broken leg and fell to the ground. The panther proceeded toward Harry for show, then stepped in front of him, growling low at the large man. Vernon looked from the panther to Harry, backing away slowly. When the creature turned to the boy, Vernon bolted, crying out for all to hear that a panther had just eaten his nephew. Snape transformed back into human form, and without a word cast a bone mending charm, levitated the boy, and proceeded deeper into the woods.
When he was sure no one would come upon them, he let the charm up and set Harry on the ground. Defiantly, Harry hobbled over to a tree. Leaning on it for support, he stared Snape in the eyes.
"Potter, you care to tell me what that was all about?"
"My aunt and uncle didn't pack a tent for me, so while I was setting up theirs, I threw some poles into the woods and stole a blanket from the car."
"And your uncle wasn't too pleased."
"I only wish his tent had fallen in on him," Harry mumbled.
Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy and pulled the silver chain from his neck. Quickly, he transfigured it back into a broom and mounted. "Come on, Potter. We will retrieve your things and return to Hogwarts." Harry hesitantly cast a glance in the direction of the camp, then looked down at his leg. Snape glided over and Harry got on, rather awkwardly, behind the potions master.
If only my friends could see me now.
Snape was walking along, not really caring about being sneaky now. The Potter boy had once again ruined his chance at something peaceful. His first year, Snape was looking forward to exposing Quirrel for what he was, but Potter beat him to it. Second year, curse the boy, he defeated Voldemort, which sent heat his way from the Death Eaters. Third year, the boy lost him his Order of Merlin; Snape had yet to figure out how. Now, in his fourth year, he had not only forced Snape to expose himself to the Minister, he was taking up his precious holiday time as well.
As he neared the campground, the smell of burnt meat filled his nostrils. His ears detected the sound of nearly every snorer in every tent. His night-vision let him see the position of everything, and ways around them. Now, to find the brat and report back to Dumbledore that he's being treated like a king.
Nearing the campsite, he spotted a makeshift tent, made from extra poles and a ratty blanket. Surely no one is roughing that much when there are tents nearby, he thought. He slinked over to find a shivering form on the ground. Emerald eyes darted up and widened in panic. Frantically searching for anything to use as a weapon, Harry backed up and tripped, sending him sprawling to the ground. He cried out in pain and a voice rang from the tent nearest him, loud enough for Harry to hear, but not the camp.
"Boy! What are you doing! If you don't go back to sleep you won't eat for a month and you'll sleep on the back porch." Not knowing what else to do, Snape returned to human form and strode over to the prone boy, who was now staring at the potions master in shock. He was clutching his ankle, and holding back tears.
"Sir? Why are you here?"
"Quiet Potter. Did you not think to use your wand?"
"I don't have my wand," Harry snapped back. Snape stared at the boy in amazement. In the mere days he had left Hogwarts, he had lost almost ten pounds. There was a fist-sized bruise on his cheek, and cuts on his ankles. Snape ventured that there were many on his leg as well, but many if not all of those could have come from playing in the forest.
"Well, where is it?"
"Buried out in the Dursley's backyard somewhere. They couldn't burn it with everything else, so they buried it, along with my cloak." Snape stared at Harry. This was not the boy that had left on the train days ago. He was thinner, his facial features were more pronounced, and his hair was longer.
Snape sighed, ready for this whole night to be over. "How are you faring?" he strained. Harry looked at the potions master in shock. Was he actually asking how he was? He had just found his voice when they heard a rustling. Quickly, Snape transformed and hid, and Vernon came barreling through the forest.
"What is this?!? You stole poles from our tents to make one for yourself eh? And where did you get this blanket from?" Vernon had marched over and grabbed Harry roughly by the shoulder. "Think you can steal from us, eh?" He brought a large beefy fist up and brought it down on Harry's shoulder. Snape was frozen to the spot. Until he heard the crack. Vernon had kicked Harry in the stomach, and while he was on the ground had stomped on his calf. The sickening crack that followed signaled that Harry's shin bones had been broken. Snape leapt from his position in the bushes and landed right in front of the man. Vernon shoved Harry in the direction of the large black panther.
"Go on, boy, use your magic and get rid of it!" Harry yelped in pain from the pressure on his broken leg and fell to the ground. The panther proceeded toward Harry for show, then stepped in front of him, growling low at the large man. Vernon looked from the panther to Harry, backing away slowly. When the creature turned to the boy, Vernon bolted, crying out for all to hear that a panther had just eaten his nephew. Snape transformed back into human form, and without a word cast a bone mending charm, levitated the boy, and proceeded deeper into the woods.
When he was sure no one would come upon them, he let the charm up and set Harry on the ground. Defiantly, Harry hobbled over to a tree. Leaning on it for support, he stared Snape in the eyes.
"Potter, you care to tell me what that was all about?"
"My aunt and uncle didn't pack a tent for me, so while I was setting up theirs, I threw some poles into the woods and stole a blanket from the car."
"And your uncle wasn't too pleased."
"I only wish his tent had fallen in on him," Harry mumbled.
Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy and pulled the silver chain from his neck. Quickly, he transfigured it back into a broom and mounted. "Come on, Potter. We will retrieve your things and return to Hogwarts." Harry hesitantly cast a glance in the direction of the camp, then looked down at his leg. Snape glided over and Harry got on, rather awkwardly, behind the potions master.
If only my friends could see me now.