Title: L' Estate di Suicidio
Author: Clynn
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and I'm not making any money off of them.
Author's Notes: A new chapter already, I think this is some sort of record for me! This is a couple days after the last chapter, in case you don't pick up on that. Enjoy, and review!
Chapter Eleven
I stand behind an old, weathered table in a the dank dungeon classroom Snape has selected to hold my tutoring. He is at the front of the room, muttering to himself while he gathers ingredients. He hasn't told me anything at all about what we are doing today, and I hope it doesn't require extensive knowledge of the text we are supposed to be studying over the holidays. I haven't even looked at the homework, and I have never seen Snape angrier than when a student (especially me) is unprepared for a lesson. I run my fingers nervously through my hair and keep my eyes trained on the professor. The last thing that I want to do is make him angry or disappoint him. Sharing his private quarters may have developed into a comfortable routine for both of us, but I can't imagine that it would be so pleasant if we were at each other's throats as we have been during every potion's class since I began at Hogwarts.
"Okay, Harry, today we are going to work a bit on healing potions. I've noticed in class that you seem to grasp those the best, and I thought we might start with something you are comfortable with." I look at Snape, startled. Somehow, when I entered the classroom today, I forgot everything about the Snape I was getting to know this summer. I assumed that, when Snape and I returned to our usual positions as teacher and student, he would become the same intimidating jerk I had to deal with all year. I had expected Snape to return to calling me "Mr. Potter" and glaring at me for every mistake. Now, though, Snape is standing not at the front of the room, but right beside me, talking to me in the same friendly voice he has been using since I arrived this summer. He even admitted not only that there were some potions that I am not a complete failure at, but that he has watched me carefully enough to note that patterns in which potions I can make and which I struggle with. I feel like a fool for doubting the professor when he has shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived.
"All right, sir. Which potion are we to make?" Snape smiles encouragingly at me, probably noting the nervousness that has been gnawing at me since he told me he would be tutoring me. He arranges the ingredients in front of me.
"Why don't you look at what we are using and see if you can guess? An important part of potions, Harry, is knowing the properties of the ingredients you are using and how they interact with other ingredients. Only when you can do that can you begin creating your own potions or making modifications to old ones. Just look at everything in front of you individually, and think about the potions you have seen it in before, and you can probably guess what this potion is used for." I nod and begin to study the ingredients before me. There are several ingredients that I recognize from sleeping potions, but one of the ingredients I am certain I saw in an energy-boosting potion. Surely the two would cancel each other out? But when you take a sleeping potion, does it do anything other than put you to sleep, are there any side effects? I struggle to recall the few times I have taken sleeping potions. They work quickly, but not immediately, and you can feel them begin to take effect. It starts in the toes, a sort of numbness flowing through the body and... Maybe the energy boost would stop you from going to sleep, but the numbness... A potion to numb pain? It made sense. There was one more ingredient on the table, something I had never used before, and I looked at it uncertainly. One ingredient can change the entire potion, and I haven't the slightest idea about what this would do. Still, I decide to hazard a guess.
"Is it for numbing pain, sir?" I ask nervously. Professor Snape nods, smiling, and I find myself grinning back. I think this is the first time Professor Snape hasn't criticized an answer that I have given. He reaches for each ingredient and holds it up, explaining its properties and how it works in this particular potion. The ingredient I don't know turns out to be for direction, so that the potion will only numb the area of the injury. Without it, the potion would spread through the entire body and be essentially useless, as it is not potent enough to be spread over such a large area. With all the background information Professor Snape gives me, I begin the potion feeling more prepared than I ever have before. I understand the makeup of the potion enough to catch little mistakes I usually make, like adding the ingredients in the wrong order or boiling it for too long. As Professor Snape observed at the beginning of the lesson, I always try a little harder with potions used for healing. Healing potions have an understandable purpose, unlike many of the potions we make. When I can't understand why a potion is made, I find my mind drifting as I make it. I just don't see the point of working to make a potion that turns your hair a funny color or shrinks your feet, and I don't put as much effort into them.
As I finally finish the potion, Professor Snape pulls out an empty jar to pour it in. "Excellent work, Harry. I'm almost convinced that you don't NEED tutoring! Why don't you show this kind of ability in class?" I blush, grateful for the compliment and a bit embarrassed about the comment on my school habits.
"Its a bit harder to do in class, sir, when I know I can't ask questions and if I take a wrong step I'll lose fifty points for Gryffindor." I blurt out without thinking. My face burns an even brighter shade of red and I open my mouth to apologize, but Snape holds up his hand to stop me.
"Point taken, Harry. I know I'm a bit rough on you in class... Okay, more than a bit, but you have to understand, if I don't act like I loath the sight of you, someone in that class is going to send word to their father or mother that I'm being nice to the Boy Who Lived, and eventually word will reach Voldemort. It could very well compromise my position as a spy and get me killed. Maybe at first I had something against you personally, but I certainly don't anymore, and I don't want you to be offended by the things I am forced to say to you during the school year because of the position I am in. You understand that, don't you?" I nod briefly, and find myself wishing that school didn't have to begin again. I miss my friends, but at the same time, I don't know how I am going to be able to face them. I don't know if I can pretend that I haven't changed, or if I even want to, but at the same time, I don't want them to ask me any questions about this summer and why I am different. I'm not sure that I will be able to deal with the inquisitive looks Hermione is bound to throw my way when she thinks I'm not looking, or Ron's anger when he realizes that I don't want to tell him anything. I don't want to look into Malfoy's sneering face and remember the words he said to me on the train at the beginning of the summer. I don't want to look at the Hufflepuff table and remember Cedric's death. I don't want to listen to Snape yell during potions and be forced to pretend that I don't like him, that I don't understand why he is the way he is, that he isn't an important part of my life now, that he isn't the only thing holding me together.
"I understand, sir, but can I ask you one favor please? I can ignore any comments you make about me, or Ron or Hermione, and I can ignore any points you take from Gryffindor for stupid things that don't matter at all, but no matter how much I know you don't mean it, I don't think could handle it if you made any comments about Cedric or my parents. Please." I look up at Snape a little desperately, and he looks a little taken aback at my request. "Look, everything else you have ever said to me, I don't care about. I never cared about it. But the stuff you have said about my parents, that really hurt. And Malfoy, on the train, he said something about Cedric... It was hard enough hearing it from him, and I never listen to what he says. It would be torture hearing it from you."
"Harry... I promise you, I will never say anything to you about Cedric. I would never hurt you that way. And Draco... Watch out for him, Harry. I want to give him a chance, I really do, but I know all too well what his father is capable of, and if he has instilled his own beliefs into his son, you really need to be careful of him. As for saying things about your parents... I'll do my best. I can't promise you I won't say anything, when I get upset I often speak before I think. I didn't exactly like your father, Harry, and it will be hard to remember to bite my tongue when it comes to him. I will try, though, I can assure you of that." Snape looks down at me earnestly, and I surprise myself and much as I do him by hugging him tightly.
"Thank you, sir." I whisper into the folds of Snape's robe. He hugs me tighter in response. After a second, he steps back and returns to bottling my potion. A few minutes later, we exit the classroom and Snape informs me that we will be taking our lunch in the Great Hall with the rest of the professors.
