Don't try to kill me for this chapter! I really need this to bring Harry where I want to bring him in the rest of my story!
Good reading!
After the worst Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson since the one when Snape had replaced Remus in third year, the fifth year students made their way towards the exit with relief.
"Mr Potter, a moment please."
Hermione and Ron exchanged a worried look and Harry turned towards Umbridge, gritting his teeth.
"I have potions."
"It will only take a minute. Sit down, Mr Potter."
Seeing the defence professor's imperious gaze, Hermione and Ron walked out of the room and started towards the dungeons, while Harry sat down reluctantly.
"Mr Potter I will not, under any circumstances, tolerate you disrupting my class with stories worthy of Beedle the Bard."
"They're not stories! Like I said, I saw him!"
"Silence!" the tiny witch cried in a shrill voice. She coughed, regaining her composure. "Mr Potter, we both know what the truth is. You will come here for a detention every evening at eight."
"How long for? Professor," he added reluctantly, seeing the piercing look the witch sent him.
"We'll start with a week, Mr Potter. Let us hope that will be enough. You may leave."
Harry, still furious, stood and walked towards the door. He glanced absently at his magical watch, a Christmas present from Hermione in their third year, and groaned; he was almost 10 minutes late for Potions. Once the time it took to get to the dungeons was added, he would be 20 minutes late. Gritting his teeth, he turned towards the professor's desk.
"Professor, could you write me a note for Professor Snape explaining why I'm late?"
"I don't think so."
"What? But I'll be nearly 20 minutes late!"
"Then you should hurry," Umbridge concluded, pouring herself a cup of tea from the tea pot that she had just conjured out of thin air.
For several moments Harry stood there, shocked at the pink toad's pettiness. Then he shook his head and left the room, making sure to slam the door with all his strength before he began running to the dungeons. For a second he thought about simply missing potions entirely, but he dismissed the idea. It would only make things worse. Even more so now that Snape was his guardian.
Harry skidded in a more or less controlled way around the corner just before the Great Hall, and just barely managed to stop himself before he took out Professor McGonagall.
"Do you think you're on the Quidditch pitch, Mr Potter?" the transfiguration professor hissed, voice strict.
"No… sorry… late… potions…" Harry gasped, too busy trying to catch his breath to get his words out.
"Alright, go," sighed the witch, stepping aside. "Explain later. Let's pretend I didn't see anything…"
Harry's eyes showed a spark of gratitude as he quickly started running again.
Several minutes later, Argus Filch's shouts still ringing in his ears – he hadn't even bothered to slow down for him – he tried to catch his breath a bit before walking into the classroom. He glanced at his watch and groaned; 24 minutes late. He would be killed on the spot.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The tone of voice used by the terror of the dungeons to tell him to come in made him want to flee. But he decided to honour the legendary courage of his house and walked into the potions classroom.
"Ah Mr Potter, thank you for finally gracing us with your presence."
Harry had intended to stay quiet or to simply say "I was kept behind by Professor Umbridge", but Malfoy's mocking look made his blood boil.
"Were you worried?" he hissed.
"What did you say, young man?" Snape retorted, his voice like ice.
"Really? I thought you were meant to be talking to me normally…"
"You're really starting to get on my nerves, Harry!"
Harry sat down calmly and, imitating the icy tone of the man he was staring down, spat, "Maybe we should settle this as a family, Father."
If she hadn't been so worried for her friend, Hermione would definitely have got more pleasure out of seeing Malfoy's reaction. His sneer had deepened after Harry's first response, then frozen when Snape had called Harry by his first name, making him go slightly green with envy. Finally, he had nearly died choking on his own spit when he heard the words "family" and "father", and only owed his continued survival to Goyle smacking him on the back, almost dislocating his shoulder.
Yes, Hermione would definitely have enjoyed the sight if she hadn't been staring at Severus Snape, noticing, with worry, the fury appearing in the dark eyes. As for Harry, he was well aware that he had overstepped his boundaries but he told himself that Malfoy's expression had been worth it, and that in any case he had to be punished for the detention with Umbridge anyway and Snape couldn't kill him twice.
If the worst happened, he could always flee and seek refuge with Voldemort if he asked to be marked with the Dark Mark. Or to be killed painlessly. Almost painlessly. Actually… bad plan… after all, Snape was better than Voldemort… Slightly, a small voice in his head whispered.
The lesson finished quickly; the students didn't dare make the slightest noise and Snape brooded at his desk, not making his usual comments.
When the end of lesson bell rang, Harry made his way slowly and calmly to the door. Seeing that Snape, who was staring at him, wasn't gesturing for him to stay, he left the potions classroom without further ado. Hermione and Ron silently followed on his heels. The trio didn't breathe freely until they were out in the grounds.
"Ow, 'Mione," Harry sighed a split second before the young woman slapped the back of his head.
"OW!" he protested more loudly as Ron punched his arm. "What's wrong?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Ron hissed, visibly furious. "Hermione," he said in a calmer voice, turning to their friend, "can you leave us alone for a bit?"
"Yes, yes of course," the young girl immediately replied. "I'll go to the library… shall we meet in the Great Hall?"
"Ok, thanks."
Ron watched until she was safely inside the building and out of earshot, then turned once again towards Harry, his expression immediately becoming more serious.
"What were you thinking?"
"What are you talking about Ron?" Harry sighed.
"What am I talking about? Last night you insisted on coming with us even though you knew full well we could go without you! And don't give me that rubbish about it being your cloak – you've lent it to me before. And you knew that it would be quicker just the two of us. Then this morning you basically attacked Umbridge. And now you're provoking Snape?! What are you trying to prove, Harry?"
Harry turned away, his expression stubborn. Ron gritted his teeth, trying to resist the urge to drown his best friend once and for all in the dark lake.
"Harry… Even I would be watching my step if my Mum was at Hogwarts. And you know just as well as I do that she shouts a lot but would never hit me… But Snape…"
"Listen," Harry interrupted angrily, "I'm not going to become quiet and well-behaved just because Snape hits first and asks questions later. I'm not scared of him, alright?!"
And with that, he turned on his heel and headed for the Great Hall. Ron shook his head and started following him, muttering "Pull the other one…"
When they arrived at the Great Hall, they sat down on either side of Hermione, who had arrived before them. Harry looked furious and Ron and Hermione exchanged worried and powerless looks. The two friends noticed, with some worry, that the potions professor wasn't at the professors' table.
oOo
Severus Snape made his way to the staff room, cursing under his breath about his adoptive son's unbearable nature. What had he done to the bloody boy, he wondered… He tried to make an effort and all he got out of it was looking like an idiot. He'd already resisted the temptation to thrash him when the despicable child had thought he could make him believe that he wasn't wandering around in the corridors…
"In the library – you must be joking," he muttered.
Had he really thought he could get away with his little act? Bloody hell! He was the head of Slytherin! He could tell when someone was lying to him!
"I should have cracked down on it straight away," he grumbled to himself, thinking that that at least would have had the advantage of calming him down!
After all, he was a former biased, unfair and cruel Death Eater, wasn't he? And as for the other pest, he planned to send her to finish her thesis deep in Siberia in the near future; he would send her, her elf, her designer clothes, her diet and her nymphomania! But he would settle his score with his daughter at the right time, preferably when she wasn't expecting it – that would give him a chance to have the last word!
He pushed the door to the staff room open perhaps a bit too violently and almost got hit in the face when it bounced back, making Dolores Umbridge, who was drinking a cup of tea by the fire, jump. The witch dabbed at her dress with a lace handkerchief, giving the new arrival a wrathful look.
An evil smile drifted onto her face when she realised who had just burst into the staff lounge in such a cavalier way. Said new arrival continued to mutter as he angrily poured himself a cup of tea.
"If he thinks he can get away with it just like that after what he just said to me… really should have flogged him on the spot, Dumbledore or no Dumbledore…"
Dolores tried to listen to what the potions professor was muttering but quickly gave up. Instead, she moved to stand behind Severus (a reasonable distance away) and cleared her throat. It had no effect at all on her colleague.
She resigned herself to getting his attention verbally. "Professor Snape."
"What?" he barked, spinning around.
Dolores frowned and Severus murmured something that could have been an excuse if she squinted.
"What do you want, Professor Umbridge?"
"Cornelius – I mean, the Minister for Magic – told me that you adopted Harry Potter over the holidays."
"That is correct."
"If you want my opinion, he is a very troubled child."
Severus used all of his self-control to refrain from saying that actually, he could definitely do without her opinion and he would ask her what she thought about Harry's mental health the day he asked for Sybill Trelawney's advice about divination.
Instead, he took a deep breath and coldly replied, "It is true that everything was decided very quickly and that Harry could have been a bit… affected by our recent change in situation."
"That goes without saying," replied Professor Umbridge, doing one of her little laughs that succeeded in exasperating Severus and made him bitterly regret that he was no longer a Death Eater. "However, I don't think favouring him is wise… no doubt it would only affect him more."
"Probably," Severus grumbled, wondering what on earth this woman could be referring to.
"What I mean is that excessive favouritism is not doing this child any good…"
Favouritism? Excessive favouritism? Snape almost turned around to see who this stupid woman was talking to… He could certainly be accused of being abrupt, severe, cold, uncompromising, harsh, demanding, merciless, strict, unforgiving, sometimes evil, most definitely biased, probably unfair, possibly spiteful… but he certainly couldn't be accused of excessive favouritism.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"I know that you are doing your best and that controlling a teenager isn't an easy thing to do," replied Dolores in a soft and compassionate voice.
Trying his best not to glue her to the wall with a well-placed spell, Severus sighed and asked, "Could you get to the point?"
A couple of seconds later, Professor Flitwick opened the door to the staff room with the perfectly innocent intention of sitting near the fire with a good cup of tea in his hands. He quickly closed the door and ran away as fast as his legs could carry him as a roar emerged from the half open door.
"HE DID WHAT?!"
.
oOo
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"Harry," Hermione began gently after discretely signalling for Ron to leave them alone.
"What?" growled Harry, giving his friend a truly dark look.
"Don't do that to me, Harry James Potter," hissed the young girl strictly. Then she sighed and slid closer to Harry on the sofa. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"
"You mean apart from Voldemort trying to kill me in the last week of June for the last 4 years?"
"Yes," Hermione said with a sad smile, "apart from that."
Harry gave her a sidelong glance and then sighed and shook his head.
"Harry," the young witch sighed, "you're going to end up in real trouble. You already have a detention with Umbridge, and now that argument with Snape…"
"Oh don't start!" exploded Harry. "What was I supposed to do? Tell Umbridge I lied and that Voldemort wasn't back?"
"No, but-"
"Then what? That's exactly what would have happened!"
"Harry calm down… You could have avoided adding fuel to the fire though, don't you think?"
Harry simply growled furiously. Hermione sighed.
"I know Ron is tactless… I don't know what he said to you exactly but what he wanted to say was that we're worried about you, Harry, and not just because you have the most powerful dark wizard looking for you."
"But that's the worst bit…"
Hermione didn't answer and simply looked at him unflinchingly. Harry managed to meet her eyes for a good minute before he had to look away. No, it was out of the question! He wouldn't admit that he was scared of Snape. He'd faced Voldemort, for God's sake! He would have given anything for Sirius to be there.
There was energetic knocking on the portrait and Hermione reluctantly got up, no longer staring at Harry, to the latter's great relief.
"I'll go," she sighed.
She opened the portrait to find herself face to face with the potions professor, who was obviously beside himself with anger. Without even glancing at Hermione, Severus walked into the common room and rapidly looked around the room.
His furious black eyes immediately found Harry and he spat, "You, follow me. Immediately!"
Then he turned on his heel without even waiting to see whether Harry obeyed. The latter, white as a sheet, gulped and slowly followed his father. Ron came running from the dormitory, having heard Snape's shouting, while Hermione, who was livid, closed the portrait behind them.
"What's going on?"
"I think Harry's in real trouble this time…"
Ron hesitated briefly and added in an uncertain voice, "Maybe we should warn Sirius, Hermione."
Hermione hesitated for a moment then murmured, "No, Ron. Sirius would come down here straight away and with Umbridge in the castle it's too dangerous."
"What about Dementia?"
Hermione hesitated again, looking at the portrait, biting her lip, then nodded gravely. "Dementia…"
.
oOo
.
While an anxious Ron and Hermione made their way to the library, Harry tried to follow Snape without getting lost in Hogwarts' corridors.
Bristling with rage, Snape took long strides towards the dungeons. Umbridge had practically called him incapable of controlling his son, had added dangerously that she completely understood that it was difficult to dole out physical punishment, and that there was no shame in being manipulated by one's own children, that it happened to everyone, and that she was happy to warn him about it.
She had made a complete fool out of him, so it had been a stroke of luck that they had been alone in the staff room… And the worst thing was that she wasn't really wrong, he thought, mentally listing the things that Harry had done; the fight on the train, his insolent attitude, his night-time escapade and the trick that had followed it, his attitude in Umbridge's classroom, his actions in the potions class…
Two corridors away from his rooms, he glanced behind him and saw that Harry was struggling to maintain the pace. He briskly half turned around and, grabbing the teenager by the arm, he dragged him behind him, making him yelp in surprise and speed up.
He didn't slow down as they approached the portrait guarding his rooms, but instead hissed the password and threw Harry inside. The latter wasn't able to keep his balance when his father pushed him through the portrait hole, and he fell flat on his face in the living room, which was decorated with Slytherin colours. He stood back up immediately and turned around to face his father, instinctively backing up several paces as he saw the fury twisting the features of the man opposite him.
"I've been much too gentle with you," hissed Snape, his look darker than ever.
Harry felt his anger rising but contained it. Gentle? Snape thought he had been gentle? They must have different ideas about what gentle meant…
"I don't even know why I listened to Dementia! It would have practically been in the news if the little idiot had suddenly started speaking sense," continued Snape, more to himself than to the young man.
Harry gritted his teeth; Dementia was definitely not an idiot. She was perhaps a bit self-centred, but she wasn't stupid… Also, she truly was gentle - she had welcomed Harry into her life without hesitation and treated him like he was her real brother…
"Don't say that," he said through clenched teeth, unable to stop himself. "Just because you're incapable of understanding her that doesn't mean she isn't as clever as you are… she's even cleverer than you! At least she's human!"
Hearing this, Snape closed the distance between them and slapped him brutally, knocking him to the floor. Wide-eyed with surprise, Harry lifted his hand to his lip. Fear replaced the surprise in his eyes when he saw blood on his fingers. The force behind the slap had split his lip. Snape bent over and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet by the collar of his shirt.
"If you think you can make a fool out of me and get away with it you're deluding yourself!" shouted the wizard.
Snape jerked open the door to the left of the sofa and threw Harry through it before going to his desk in the corner of the living room. The young wizard just had time to realise that he was in his father's bedroom before the harsh voice boomed.
"I'll make damn sure you never want to make a fool of me again!"
Harry turned quickly and paled as he saw his father standing in the doorway; he had taken off his cloak and held a thin black cane in his hands.
"Take off your shirt!"
"I'm sorry!"
"Yes, you will be! Do it!"
Harry stepped back, shaking his head.
"Harry…" Snape repeated, voice menacing.
"You said you wouldn't do it… you… you…"
"When did I say such a thing?" spat Snape, crossing his arms.
"You gave me a choice!"
"Once! And even if I did that time, you won't always have a choice! Now do it!"
"No," moaned Harry, "Father… please…"
"You're just making it worse, Harry," hissed Snape.
"I'm sorry! I don't know what got into me in Potions and-"
"Silence! I don't want to hear anymore!"
Snape sharply flicked his wand and Harry's shirt ripped, falling to the ground in a flurry of useless pieces. Harry was still stepping backwards, shaking his head, continuously saying "I'm sorry", unable to believe that his father could be so angry about a simple moment of insolence in potions class, but Snape was too furious to listen to his excuses.
Grabbing the young wizard by the arm, he threw him across the bed and, in the same movement, struck Harry across the back with the cane, making him cry out in pain. Firmly holding him down by the nape of the neck to stop him from defending himself, and without listening to the pleas of the young wizard, he lifted his arm and struck again.
After only three blows, Harry burst into tears, no longer moving at all but simply pleading in a hoarse voice, convinced that Snape would break something.
Despite what he thought, the cane wasn't completely rigid but perfectly fitted the curves of his back, making the pain unbearable. Harry had never imagined that anything could be more painful than being hit by a belt, but he was realising, to his horror, that his two previous beatings were practically nothing compared to the one he was currently enduring.
Harry only wanted to do one thing – call for Sirius at the top of his lungs, hoping against all logic that he would hear and come to stop Snape.
He was angry with himself for telling Ron that he wasn't afraid of his father, for telling him not to worry about him. If he had told him the truth, Ron would definitely have run to find someone, anyone, who could stop the beating that seemed to him to last for hours.
Snape carried on until the cane cut into the skin slightly in two or three places. Harry had suffered through thirty blows and was breathing heavily, his hysterical tears mixed with shouts that gave way to sobbing. Severus threw the cane onto the bed and turned on his heel without a word.
A whisper as he reached the door stopped him in his tracks. He span around, eyes narrowed, and froze. Harry had slipped into the tight space between the bed and the wall and had curled up there, moaning Sirius' name.
The Potions Master seemed as if he was about to say something, but changed his mind and, turning on his heel once more, he left, leaving Harry, shaking like a leaf, alone in the room.
oOo
Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione had gone to look for Dementia in the library, but she wasn't there. Running back up the Gryffindor tower to get the Marauder's Map to use it to find the young woman had cost them precious minutes. Ron hadn't been able to stop himself from making an anxious squeaking noise when he saw Harry's and Snape's names next to each other in the dungeons.
Hermione had found Dementia in the greenhouses and they had run off without even putting on their cloaks.
They shot into the greenhouse, startling Professor Sprout and Dementia, who were drinking a cup of tea and watching the bickering of a batch of star-shaped mimbulus mimbletonia, a new type of plant that the herbology professor was very proud of.
Hermione quickly apologised to the professor and turned to Dementia. "Harry's in trouble!"
"What's he done now?" sighed Dementia, assuming that her brother had once again been caught arguing with Malfoy by a professor.
Hermione quickly briefed her on the situation, telling her how furious Professor Snape had seemed when he came to find Harry. Professor Sprout joined in, explaining that Filius ("Professor Flitwick", Hermione whispered to Ron) had heard Severus arguing with Dolores ("Umbridge," Hermione explained when Ron looked at her questioningly) about something someone who hadn't been named had done.
"Harry," sighed Hermione. "Professor Umbridge gave him a detention because he refused to say that You-Know-Who wasn't back and that he had lied."
"We were going to warn-"
"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione quickly interrupted, glaring at Ron before he could say something stupid, "but then we thought it would be better to warn you."
"Have they been gone long?" Dementia asked, standing.
"A while," Ron said seriously.
"If you would excuse me, Pomona…"
"Go on my dear, do your best to sort things out between your two men!" smiled the herbology professor, unaware of what frightened the three young people.
The two friends followed Dementia out of the greenhouse.
"Right, where are they?"
Ron quickly got out the map and looked at the side where the dungeons were. Harry was alone in the room. Snape was in the staff room, which was currently empty. He told the two young women this.
"Just as well," sighed Dementia, starting to run. "I would prefer to see Harry without my father hanging around."
Despite her curiosity, she didn't ask about the mysterious map, concentrating instead on the more urgent matter of Harry.
It only took them several minutes to reach the dungeons, running full tilt through the castle corridors, much to Argus Filch's fury – he couldn't say anything because the two students were accompanied by a member of staff.
Once they arrived at the door leading to her father's rooms, Dementia gave a complicated password.
The Potions Master in the painting sighed and rolled his eyes as he opened the door. "You've almost got it, Miss Snape. You're getting closer to the correct pronunciation."
Dementia didn't even bother to reply with one of the insults she regularly threw at the portrait.
"Come on," she said to Ron and Hermione, who hesitated.
"Demi…" Hermione began.
"Not the time – come in or stay outside, I'm going."
Before the two teenagers could make a decision, the portrait closed in their faces and the occupant looked at them mockingly. Ron and Hermione shot it a furious look and sat in front of the portrait, waiting for Dementia. Hermione bit her lip, her worry gnawing away at her. Ron reached out and gripped the young woman's hand with his long fingers.
In the apartment, Dementia soon noticed that the door to her father's bedroom, which was always tightly shut, was slightly open. She stepped into the room and peered into the darkness, giving her eyes time to adjust. She saw Harry at the same time as she heard his weak moans.
Scared of frightening him, she approached him slowly, biting her lip as she noticed the state the young man was in; the shallow bleeding cuts, cane marks that were starting to bruise, his red back, the tears rolling down his cheeks and his hopeless moans as he repeated a single word – Sirius.
"Merlin, Harry," she breathed, kneeling by his side.
The young wizard flinched when she ran a hand tenderly through his hair.
"Harry," she repeated gently, still stroking his hair. "Open your eyes… look at me."
After a couple of minutes Harry seemed to realise that she wasn't threatening and shifted towards her. Dementia gently kissed him on the forehead where a bruise was already forming - Harry had banged his head without realising when Snape had slapped him.
"I want Sirius," Harry breathed, his tone begging.
"Come and lie down in my room first," whispered Dementia.
The pain came back when he stood, and tears started running even faster down his cheeks. He let himself fall stomach first onto Dementia's bed, in the room facing Snape's bedroom. Dementia lay next to him for several long minutes, letting him calm himself down gradually. When his breathing was calmer and his heart was beating normally, she got up.
"I'll go and tell Ron and Hermione that you're ok. They must be waiting in the corridor."
"I don't want to see them!"
"Harry!" Dementia exclaimed, shocked.
"Please… I don't want them to see me like this," Harry muttered, his expression pleading.
"Alright."
The young woman reassured her brother's two friends as best she could, given that her fury was all too visible in her eyes. She explained to them that Harry was lying down in her room and that he needed to sleep, that they would probably see him that evening in their common room and that everything was fine.
Ron and Hermione climbed Gryffindor tower, not convinced by Dementia's explanations and thanking Merlin that they didn't have any lessons this afternoon, meaning that Harry would be able to rest from now until his detention early that evening.
Dementia returned to Harry's side and sat next to him.
"Please, Demi…"
"What? What do you want?"
"Sirius."
Dementia sighed; Sirius would be on the war path and would be in danger… but she couldn't deny Harry this comfort. She knew that the only person who would be able to detect Sirius' presence inside Hogwarts would be Dumbledore and that he wouldn't say anything.
"I'll call him. Rest."
She threw a handful of powder into the chimney and shouted, "Number 12, Grimmauld Place!"
She stuck her head into the chimney and called, "Sirius? Kreacher?"
"Demi?"
Sirius approached the chimney with a smile, which froze when he saw the expression on his girlfriend's face. "What's going on?"
"Promise me you won't do anything stupid!"
"What?"
"Sirius, promise me that no matter what I tell you, you won't take any risks! Harry and I need you!"
"You're worrying me, Dementia."
"Sirius!"
"Alright, I'll stay calm, whatever you say."
"I want a wizard vow!"*
Sirius' expression grew grave; a wizard vow wasn't done lightly. It must be serious.
"I solemnly swear on my life and my magic that I will not do anything that could be dangerous for me after I hear what you tell me."
Dementia smiled sadly, satisfied. "Sirius, you have to come to Hogwarts. Immediately. It's Harry…"
Sirius froze, then nodded and ran out of Grimmauld Place. Dementia quickly explained to Harry that she was going to look for Sirius and would be back soon.
Twenty minutes later, she led a black dog into the rooms that she shared with her father.
Sirius transformed as soon as he was inside. "Where is he?"
"In my room. Stay calm, Sirius…"
When he saw Harry, Sirius gritted his teeth, barely restraining himself from running off and slitting Snape's throat on the spot. Dementia was right to demand a wizard vow!
He approached the bed and bent down so that he was at the same height as his godson. "Harry?"
The young man opened his eyes and sat up, biting his lip. He met his godfather's worried gaze and burst into tears, throwing himself into his arms.
"Where's your father, Dementia?" Sirius asked furiously, holding Harry close.
"Look after Harry. Stay in my room, both of you. Only Dumbledore can come in here. I'll take care of the rest…" she finished coldly.
Leaving the two men alone, she left the rooms and went to the Great Hall, where she knew she would find her father. Just as she thought, he had just started his meal and was distractedly listening to a conversation between Minerva, Pomona and Filius.
Restraining herself from casting one of the three unforgivable curses on him, she stood in front of him, her expression dark. He looked up at her and didn't say a word.
"Proud of yourself?" she hissed.
"Don't get involved," he replied coldly.
"Give me one good reason not to disfigure you, to cut out your organs and make them into potions ingredients before throwing the rest of you into the Forbidden Forest," she replied, raising her voice so much that the Great Hall became completely silent.
"This is neither the time nor the place," replied Snape, not showing the shock he felt at his daughter's coldness and more than imaginative threats.
"How could you do that?" hissed Dementia harshly.
"Dementia!"
"What, you don't like attention being drawn to you? You should have thought of that before! You think you know what humiliation means? You haven't seen anything yet, Snape!"
Snape stood and, grabbing his daughter by the arm, he dragged her to the staff room, which was empty. He pushed her inside and magically locked the door behind them.
"Don't ever do that to me again!" he spat.
"Do you even realise how close I am to wringing your neck?"
"Dement-"
"Nothing," she interrupted furiously, "nothing can justify what you have just done, do you hear me?! You disgust me! I can't believe I'm related to you! You're no better than she is!"
Snape paled; he didn't have to ask who "she" was. He opened his mouth to reply but, seeing Dementia's furious expression, he thought better of it.
"You deserve me turning you over to Sirius! Or worse – Molly! You're not fit to be a father!"
The mocking smirk that had begun to appear on Snape's lips at the mention of Sirius disappeared at Molly's name. God, she would skin him alive… and of course Dementia was right.
"I know," he breathed.
"You're nothing but a… what?"
"I said 'I know'," sighed Snape. He sat in an armchair and gestured for Dementia to do the same. "Demi, I assure you that I regretted my decision as soon as I calmed down, that is to say when I saw the state that Harry was in. I wanted to talk to him but I changed my mind – it probably would only have scared him more."
"Yes, probably," Dementia agreed.
"I'll talk to him later. Make him drink this," he continued, handing her a potion, "it will help with the pain."
Dementia nodded and put the potion in her pocket.
"I'll go back to him," she said, not mentioning that Sirius was there already.
When she got back to her room, Sirius was still holding his godson in his arms and Harry had stopped crying. She handed the potion to Sirius, who sniffed it to see what it was before he made Harry drink it. Harry relaxed immediately.
"Harry, it's time for your detention. Do you think you can go?"
"Yes," Harry whispered weakly. "I don't want to give her the satisfaction…"
He hugged Sirius one last time and cuddled Dementia before leaving and making his way towards the defence classroom.
Once they were alone Sirius gave Dementia a black look. "Where did you find this potion?"
"He gave it to me to give to Harry."
Sirius laughed coldly. "Is Snivellus feeling guilty?"
"I don't know… he says he is… He's no better than she is… Talk about a family…"
Sirius held out an arm and moved Dementia to sit in his lap, holding her close. "You're much better than them, Dementia."
"You think so?"
"I'm certain of it."
Just under an hour later, a black dog could be seen walking away from Hogwarts.
oOo
Harry knocked on the defence classroom door and walked in when he heard an answering "Come in". Professor Umbridge smiled in satisfaction when she saw his reddened eyes, his split slip and the bruise on his forehead.
"Right, Mr Potter, I want you to write lines. Here is a piece of parchment and a quill. You won't need any ink. Write 'I must not tell lies'."
"How many times?" Harry asked in a resigned voice.
"Well, We'll see that ..."
Harry started to write and soon understood why he wouldn't need ink when the words that he was writing in bright red on the parchment seared themselves into his left hand. Determined not to give the professor the satisfaction, he gritted his teeth and continued to write without uttering a single complaint.
Professor Umbridge settled herself into her armchair, a cup of tea in her hand and a small smile on her face.
And Harry continued to write…
*A wizard vow is an oath that, when broken, makes someone lose their magic and is not to be confused with an unbreakable vow.