Chapter Three
The Wolf and the Snake
Harry always found that when he wanted a time to go quickly, it travelled very slowly, and when he wanted to never reach the end of the week, it seemed the time just trickled through his fingers like water.
As much as Harry wanted to see Remus, the sinking feeling in his stomach was growing rapidly as the game approached, and before Harry could believe it, it was ten minutes before the end of double potions on Friday afternoon. Snape was being as cruel as ever, and he was prowling around the classroom giving disdainful looks at all the Gryffindor cauldrons while praising the Slytherins endlessly.
"Another zero Potter! How you got in this class must be another of those flukes you seem to have so often." He sneered angrily. Raising his wand, ready to dispose of Harry's potion, Harry snarled back.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Manners Potter!" Snape snapped, his dark eyes boring into Harry's. "The potion should be a pale blue as if made of ice, yours however looks like murky slush!"
"What about Goyle's then? His is almost black!" Harry replied almost murderously.
"The other student's work is none of your business Potter, it is mine!" Harry looked around the class, all watching him anxiously, or humouredly.
"I want to turn it in and have you mark it properly!" Harry commented fiercely.
"Very well, you may do so, but I doubt you will receive more than a zero!" Snape snapped angrily. "Everyone bottle your potions and put them on the desk!"
Harry bottled his potion, labelled it, and placed it on Snape's desk in silence. He packed his things away, leaving his cauldron until last in the chance Snape would knock it off his desk by 'accident'. Finally, when he was satisfied his potion was safe; he cleaned his cauldron with a cleaning spell and put it at the back with the others.
Following Hermione to the Great Hall, ignoring her pleading with him not to speak to Snape like that again, he took a seat next to Ron, who was looking very smug with himself.
"What's with you?" Hermione asked, taking a seat opposite.
"Lee Jordan arrived earlier. He brought Fred and George with him! They came to see me lead the team!" Ron replied positively gleaming.
"Ron that's excellent!" Hermione replied sincerely.
"Yeah Ron. Good on ya mate!" Harry smirked, helping himself to Steak and Kidney Pie.
They ate in silence, Hermione throwing a few curious glances around and a few worried glances at Harry. Trying to avoid her gaze, Harry looked up at the Teacher's table. Remus had arrived! He was sitting up at the staff table, talking very quietly to Snape in a rather stiff manner. Snape was staring at his food, occasionally nodding to Remus and taking a bite of food. Harry grinned, it was nice to see Remus Lupin back at the teacher's table. Letting his eyes wander down the table, Harry almost burst out laughing; instead a small snort of laughter went through his nose, pumpkin juice squirting onto the table. Fred and George Weasley were sitting either side of Dumbledore, showing him a range of their latest products. At that present moment, they were showing him the headless hats, so Dumbledore's body was there along with the neck, the beard seeming to sprout from the severed neck.
Ron and Hermione followed Harry's eye-line after darting out of the way from the spraying pumpkin juice. Ron grinned, and Hermione looked very confused. Surely someone that intelligent couldn't like jokes.
Just as Harry was finishing a helping of Apple pie, the hall almost empty now, when Remus Lupin sat down next to Hermione opposite Harry, grinning.
"Evening all." He chortled lightly.
"Remus!" Hermione and Ron chorused. Harry ginned lightly.
"How are you?" Hermione asked. "How's the order?" She whispered.
"Good, and good!" Remus replied, turning to Ron. "How's Quidditch practice going?"
"Brilliant. We're pretty sure we have a good chance." Ron replied.
"Harry? Feeling confident?"
"Kinda. I'm nervous!" Harry replied.
"Well obviously. But you have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it. We have to take two seekers, because if something happens to the first, there has to be a second. So I wouldn't be too worried." He smiled reassuringly, comforting Harry a lot more than anything had the entire week.
Remus stood suddenly. "Right, I have things to do before I leave the castle on Monday morning and watch the game tomorrow. I will see you three in the morning." He stepped out from the bench and walks off out of the doors and disappeared around the corner in the direction of the Dungeons.
"We'd better get going guys. We need a proper nights sleep before this game tomorrow." Ron commented in a very Percy like manner Harry had not expected. Standing, he waiting for Ron to grab a second helping of pie and cradle it in his hands, thankful he hadn't tried to add some cream, before walking out into the Entrance hall and starting towards the steps when he stopped.
"Potter, wait." Harry turned; Professor Snape was striding towards him angrily. "I expect you in my office in ten minutes."
"Why?" Harry stammered.
"You have a lesson!" Snape replied bitterly, glaring angrily at Ron and Hermione.
"What?" Harry asked slowly. "We didn't plan…"
"I know we didn't plan it Potter!" Snape snapped angrily. Just be down in my office in ten minutes!"
With a swish of his long black robes, he had turned and marched off down into the dungeons, terrified first years backing up out of his way.
"I might as well stay down here. No point in walking up now." Harry sighed, pulling his wand from his bag. "Hermione, can you take this?"
Nodding, Hermione took Harry's bag and threw him a sympathetic look before walking up the stairs. Ron, still cradling his extra piece of pie shrugged and muttered angrily,
"Git." Harry laughed hollowly and grinned to Ron before following Snape down into the dungeons.
"Close the door Potter." Snape ordered from behind his desk. His back was turned to Harry as he extracted the long silvery thoughts from his temple and placed them in the pensieve. Harry watched curiously as the contents spun like liquid glass whenever a silvery strand touched the substance. Taking a seat in front of Snape's desk, he looked at the papers strewn across it; many were letters from Slytherin student's parents complaining about the running of the school.
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why the sudden lesson?" Harry queried, leaning forward in his chair as Snape placed the pensieve on an empty shelf of the bookcase behind the desk.
"Because Potter, as much as I hate to admit it, and Lupin loves to remind me, you have an extremely high chance of going to this Quidditch Competition, and as I have the exhilarating job of staying here to teach potions, I will not be able to teach you until you return. Therefore, one last lesson was in order. That is, unless you mess up tomorrow, which wouldn't surprise me." Harry was inwardly seething as he stood up again.
Snape was gripping his wand tightly in his right hand, pointing it at the floor, his knuckles almost white. Harry stares at his hand for a second, and for a second, when he looked up to Snape's face, he thought he saw a flicker of nervousness there, but as Snape raised his wand and sneered openly at Harry, he knew he had imagined it.
"Legimens!" Snape yelled this so angrily and harshly, that Harry stumbled backwards, the strength of the spell seemed weakened somehow, his memories flashing before him a lot slower than usual, as if Snape were looking for something in particular. Suddenly, he saw himself playing Quidditch the day before, watching the chasers zoom up the pitch in a particularly odd fashion. Harry remembered it as one of Ron's special formations Oliver had told him about. The memory carried on in a peculiar fashion, Snape was hanging onto this memory. Suddenly, Harry realised what was going on. Snape wasn't worried about Harry not being away from lessons; he was cheating, trying to find out the Gryffindor tactics.
"He can't do that!" A voice was telling Harry within his head. "That's wrong! STOP HIM!" Harry pushed and pushed, as if an invisible hand was groping as his mind, fighting with all his will power, he prised the hand from his brain. Everything went black.
"Potter…" Snape breathed slowly as if he had just run a long sprint. "That was…" He breathed a few more deep breaths, his voice ragged, "Excellent." The world around him was still black, until Harry realised he had his eyes squeezed shut. They shot open and Harry looked at his Professor. He was standing in a most peculiar fashion, leaning on the back of his chair, one hand covering his face and his head leaning on his forearm, shielding his face from Harry.
"How did you do that?" Snape breathed, his breath rattling past his yellowing teeth as he stood up straight.
"I…" Harry paused. "I don't know!"
"What did you feel?" Snape sneered, his composure returning quickly, his eyes boring into Harry's.
"I felt like a hand was groping around my mind. I prised it off." Harry replied awkwardly. "Was I doing it wrong?"
"No!" Snape snapped, though it didn't sound like the normal Snape like snap. It was as if he were trying to make Harry feel better. "No, it was perfect. You obviously will have to learn to shut off your mind before the Dark Lord gets to it, so he will not know you are hiding something before he even starts to attack your mind, but that way of blocking is perfectly acceptable."
"Sir…" Harry breathed nervously. "What did it feel like to you? It obviously hurt!"
"It does Potter; a great deal in fact." Snape replied, sitting in his high backed Ebony chair. He motioned for Harry to sit. It took Harry a second to accept as he was so shocked Snape had offered him a chair so politely. "It feels as if someone is…." He leaned back in his chair. "Potter, when I say so, point your wand at me and say Legimens! I will show you." Harry grasped his wand steadily.
"Ready?" Harry nodded slowly. "Go!" Harry lifted his wand, pointed his wand at Snape and muttered.
"Legimens!"
In front of his eyes, Harry could see Snape's memories flashing past him. A younger Dumbledore offering Snape a job, Sirius taunting Snape about his hair, Lucius Malfoy grabbing Snape by the neck and glaring down at him angrily.
"ARGHHHHHHH…" Harry yelled out in pain. It felt as if a million sharp needles were being pushed into his brain from all directions. Through the memories flashing before his mind, Harry could see Snape; his eyes shut tight and concentration etched over his cold pale face. Harry immediately pulled his head up to look at the ceiling, his head throbbing madly and his breathing shallow.
"That is what it feels like." Snape replied slowly. "Not nice is it?"
"It's terrible!" Harry replied, his head dropping to stare Snape in the eyes. The potion master wore an expression of curiosity and contemplation, though he stared back at Harry with pure truth.
"You find it difficult, don't you?" He muttered quietly.
"What sir?"
"Emptying your mind."
"I… uhh… Don't know what you mean." Harry was almost afraid of what Snape would say.
"At night. You are finding it difficult you empty your mind."
"Well, yes, but that's because I don't know how."
"That isn't true." Harry was really worried now, whenever Snape accused him of lying, it was with a snide cold drawl, this time it was almost caring. "You don't want to lose the memories." Snape was staring at a point on the desk, an old water ring visible on the dark wood.
"You worry that you will lose the memories you empty from your mind if you allow yourself to do so."
"I don't!" Harry snapped back.
"Harry…" Harry's eyes widened. Where had 'Potter' gone? "You won't lose them! Believe me I know. I used to be so worried of losing some of my most favourite memories. Here, let me do something. Do not resist it. He had stood and was walking around towards Harry, his wand raised. Coiling back in the chair, Harry tried to edge away, but the tip of Snape's wand had reached his temple before he could get away. It felt as if a worm were inside his head, wriggling around over his brain. Suddenly though, it was gone, and Snape was walking around to the bookshelf with a silver thought attached to the end of his wand. He placed it into the pensieve silently, and picked up the bowl, placing it on the desk in front of them.
Slowly and silently, a figure rose from the bowl, a figure moving quickly and shooting curses at the wall. Harry looked up to see Snape was frowning slightly. Harry looked back, the black hair and tattered robes suddenly recognizable; it was Sirius. He was in the department of mysteries, fighting Bella. A green light shone from the pensieve and Sirius fell backwards through something, disappearing from view. Harry hadn't noticed the cold tear creeping down his cheek as he watched, but it was there all the same, and was soon joined by more all creeping steadily down his cheeks.
"You don't want to forget that."
"I want more than anything to forget." Harry replied slowly, wiping his cheeks with the sleeve of his robes.
"No. You want more than anything to hang on to that memory. To keep blaming yourself for his death and to not let yourself to forget it." Snape's voice was cold but understanding. As if a light had switched on in his head, Harry realised why Snape was being so understanding as a figure rose from the bowl, this time taking on an older form of Snape. Harry watched as the figure was engulfed in green and he fell lifelessly to the floor.
"That was my father." Snape murmured. "I watched as the Dark Lord murdered him. I did nothing. I refuse to let go of the guilt from that day. I did nothing to stop it." Snape leaned forward in his hands as the Pensieve held the shimmering silver contents. "The memories don't disappear, they merely take a different form when you hide them away. Like these do in the Pensieve. You mustn't worry about losing him."
As Snape placed the thought back into Harry's head, he knew the lesson was over. He stood and stepped to the door, Snape with his back to him, placing the pensieve on the bookcase.
"Thank you sir." Harry muttered, and without waiting for any reply, he opened the door and left.
"So, how did it go?" Hermione asked as Harry sat down next to them in front of the fire.
"Ok." Harry replied slowly. "Snape's a pretty decent guy when he wants to be."
"Snape? Decent?" Ron asked in confusion. "That Occl-watsit has gone to your head mate. I think you're going mad!"
The Wolf and the Snake
Harry always found that when he wanted a time to go quickly, it travelled very slowly, and when he wanted to never reach the end of the week, it seemed the time just trickled through his fingers like water.
As much as Harry wanted to see Remus, the sinking feeling in his stomach was growing rapidly as the game approached, and before Harry could believe it, it was ten minutes before the end of double potions on Friday afternoon. Snape was being as cruel as ever, and he was prowling around the classroom giving disdainful looks at all the Gryffindor cauldrons while praising the Slytherins endlessly.
"Another zero Potter! How you got in this class must be another of those flukes you seem to have so often." He sneered angrily. Raising his wand, ready to dispose of Harry's potion, Harry snarled back.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Manners Potter!" Snape snapped, his dark eyes boring into Harry's. "The potion should be a pale blue as if made of ice, yours however looks like murky slush!"
"What about Goyle's then? His is almost black!" Harry replied almost murderously.
"The other student's work is none of your business Potter, it is mine!" Harry looked around the class, all watching him anxiously, or humouredly.
"I want to turn it in and have you mark it properly!" Harry commented fiercely.
"Very well, you may do so, but I doubt you will receive more than a zero!" Snape snapped angrily. "Everyone bottle your potions and put them on the desk!"
Harry bottled his potion, labelled it, and placed it on Snape's desk in silence. He packed his things away, leaving his cauldron until last in the chance Snape would knock it off his desk by 'accident'. Finally, when he was satisfied his potion was safe; he cleaned his cauldron with a cleaning spell and put it at the back with the others.
Following Hermione to the Great Hall, ignoring her pleading with him not to speak to Snape like that again, he took a seat next to Ron, who was looking very smug with himself.
"What's with you?" Hermione asked, taking a seat opposite.
"Lee Jordan arrived earlier. He brought Fred and George with him! They came to see me lead the team!" Ron replied positively gleaming.
"Ron that's excellent!" Hermione replied sincerely.
"Yeah Ron. Good on ya mate!" Harry smirked, helping himself to Steak and Kidney Pie.
They ate in silence, Hermione throwing a few curious glances around and a few worried glances at Harry. Trying to avoid her gaze, Harry looked up at the Teacher's table. Remus had arrived! He was sitting up at the staff table, talking very quietly to Snape in a rather stiff manner. Snape was staring at his food, occasionally nodding to Remus and taking a bite of food. Harry grinned, it was nice to see Remus Lupin back at the teacher's table. Letting his eyes wander down the table, Harry almost burst out laughing; instead a small snort of laughter went through his nose, pumpkin juice squirting onto the table. Fred and George Weasley were sitting either side of Dumbledore, showing him a range of their latest products. At that present moment, they were showing him the headless hats, so Dumbledore's body was there along with the neck, the beard seeming to sprout from the severed neck.
Ron and Hermione followed Harry's eye-line after darting out of the way from the spraying pumpkin juice. Ron grinned, and Hermione looked very confused. Surely someone that intelligent couldn't like jokes.
Just as Harry was finishing a helping of Apple pie, the hall almost empty now, when Remus Lupin sat down next to Hermione opposite Harry, grinning.
"Evening all." He chortled lightly.
"Remus!" Hermione and Ron chorused. Harry ginned lightly.
"How are you?" Hermione asked. "How's the order?" She whispered.
"Good, and good!" Remus replied, turning to Ron. "How's Quidditch practice going?"
"Brilliant. We're pretty sure we have a good chance." Ron replied.
"Harry? Feeling confident?"
"Kinda. I'm nervous!" Harry replied.
"Well obviously. But you have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it. We have to take two seekers, because if something happens to the first, there has to be a second. So I wouldn't be too worried." He smiled reassuringly, comforting Harry a lot more than anything had the entire week.
Remus stood suddenly. "Right, I have things to do before I leave the castle on Monday morning and watch the game tomorrow. I will see you three in the morning." He stepped out from the bench and walks off out of the doors and disappeared around the corner in the direction of the Dungeons.
"We'd better get going guys. We need a proper nights sleep before this game tomorrow." Ron commented in a very Percy like manner Harry had not expected. Standing, he waiting for Ron to grab a second helping of pie and cradle it in his hands, thankful he hadn't tried to add some cream, before walking out into the Entrance hall and starting towards the steps when he stopped.
"Potter, wait." Harry turned; Professor Snape was striding towards him angrily. "I expect you in my office in ten minutes."
"Why?" Harry stammered.
"You have a lesson!" Snape replied bitterly, glaring angrily at Ron and Hermione.
"What?" Harry asked slowly. "We didn't plan…"
"I know we didn't plan it Potter!" Snape snapped angrily. Just be down in my office in ten minutes!"
With a swish of his long black robes, he had turned and marched off down into the dungeons, terrified first years backing up out of his way.
"I might as well stay down here. No point in walking up now." Harry sighed, pulling his wand from his bag. "Hermione, can you take this?"
Nodding, Hermione took Harry's bag and threw him a sympathetic look before walking up the stairs. Ron, still cradling his extra piece of pie shrugged and muttered angrily,
"Git." Harry laughed hollowly and grinned to Ron before following Snape down into the dungeons.
"Close the door Potter." Snape ordered from behind his desk. His back was turned to Harry as he extracted the long silvery thoughts from his temple and placed them in the pensieve. Harry watched curiously as the contents spun like liquid glass whenever a silvery strand touched the substance. Taking a seat in front of Snape's desk, he looked at the papers strewn across it; many were letters from Slytherin student's parents complaining about the running of the school.
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why the sudden lesson?" Harry queried, leaning forward in his chair as Snape placed the pensieve on an empty shelf of the bookcase behind the desk.
"Because Potter, as much as I hate to admit it, and Lupin loves to remind me, you have an extremely high chance of going to this Quidditch Competition, and as I have the exhilarating job of staying here to teach potions, I will not be able to teach you until you return. Therefore, one last lesson was in order. That is, unless you mess up tomorrow, which wouldn't surprise me." Harry was inwardly seething as he stood up again.
Snape was gripping his wand tightly in his right hand, pointing it at the floor, his knuckles almost white. Harry stares at his hand for a second, and for a second, when he looked up to Snape's face, he thought he saw a flicker of nervousness there, but as Snape raised his wand and sneered openly at Harry, he knew he had imagined it.
"Legimens!" Snape yelled this so angrily and harshly, that Harry stumbled backwards, the strength of the spell seemed weakened somehow, his memories flashing before him a lot slower than usual, as if Snape were looking for something in particular. Suddenly, he saw himself playing Quidditch the day before, watching the chasers zoom up the pitch in a particularly odd fashion. Harry remembered it as one of Ron's special formations Oliver had told him about. The memory carried on in a peculiar fashion, Snape was hanging onto this memory. Suddenly, Harry realised what was going on. Snape wasn't worried about Harry not being away from lessons; he was cheating, trying to find out the Gryffindor tactics.
"He can't do that!" A voice was telling Harry within his head. "That's wrong! STOP HIM!" Harry pushed and pushed, as if an invisible hand was groping as his mind, fighting with all his will power, he prised the hand from his brain. Everything went black.
"Potter…" Snape breathed slowly as if he had just run a long sprint. "That was…" He breathed a few more deep breaths, his voice ragged, "Excellent." The world around him was still black, until Harry realised he had his eyes squeezed shut. They shot open and Harry looked at his Professor. He was standing in a most peculiar fashion, leaning on the back of his chair, one hand covering his face and his head leaning on his forearm, shielding his face from Harry.
"How did you do that?" Snape breathed, his breath rattling past his yellowing teeth as he stood up straight.
"I…" Harry paused. "I don't know!"
"What did you feel?" Snape sneered, his composure returning quickly, his eyes boring into Harry's.
"I felt like a hand was groping around my mind. I prised it off." Harry replied awkwardly. "Was I doing it wrong?"
"No!" Snape snapped, though it didn't sound like the normal Snape like snap. It was as if he were trying to make Harry feel better. "No, it was perfect. You obviously will have to learn to shut off your mind before the Dark Lord gets to it, so he will not know you are hiding something before he even starts to attack your mind, but that way of blocking is perfectly acceptable."
"Sir…" Harry breathed nervously. "What did it feel like to you? It obviously hurt!"
"It does Potter; a great deal in fact." Snape replied, sitting in his high backed Ebony chair. He motioned for Harry to sit. It took Harry a second to accept as he was so shocked Snape had offered him a chair so politely. "It feels as if someone is…." He leaned back in his chair. "Potter, when I say so, point your wand at me and say Legimens! I will show you." Harry grasped his wand steadily.
"Ready?" Harry nodded slowly. "Go!" Harry lifted his wand, pointed his wand at Snape and muttered.
"Legimens!"
In front of his eyes, Harry could see Snape's memories flashing past him. A younger Dumbledore offering Snape a job, Sirius taunting Snape about his hair, Lucius Malfoy grabbing Snape by the neck and glaring down at him angrily.
"ARGHHHHHHH…" Harry yelled out in pain. It felt as if a million sharp needles were being pushed into his brain from all directions. Through the memories flashing before his mind, Harry could see Snape; his eyes shut tight and concentration etched over his cold pale face. Harry immediately pulled his head up to look at the ceiling, his head throbbing madly and his breathing shallow.
"That is what it feels like." Snape replied slowly. "Not nice is it?"
"It's terrible!" Harry replied, his head dropping to stare Snape in the eyes. The potion master wore an expression of curiosity and contemplation, though he stared back at Harry with pure truth.
"You find it difficult, don't you?" He muttered quietly.
"What sir?"
"Emptying your mind."
"I… uhh… Don't know what you mean." Harry was almost afraid of what Snape would say.
"At night. You are finding it difficult you empty your mind."
"Well, yes, but that's because I don't know how."
"That isn't true." Harry was really worried now, whenever Snape accused him of lying, it was with a snide cold drawl, this time it was almost caring. "You don't want to lose the memories." Snape was staring at a point on the desk, an old water ring visible on the dark wood.
"You worry that you will lose the memories you empty from your mind if you allow yourself to do so."
"I don't!" Harry snapped back.
"Harry…" Harry's eyes widened. Where had 'Potter' gone? "You won't lose them! Believe me I know. I used to be so worried of losing some of my most favourite memories. Here, let me do something. Do not resist it. He had stood and was walking around towards Harry, his wand raised. Coiling back in the chair, Harry tried to edge away, but the tip of Snape's wand had reached his temple before he could get away. It felt as if a worm were inside his head, wriggling around over his brain. Suddenly though, it was gone, and Snape was walking around to the bookshelf with a silver thought attached to the end of his wand. He placed it into the pensieve silently, and picked up the bowl, placing it on the desk in front of them.
Slowly and silently, a figure rose from the bowl, a figure moving quickly and shooting curses at the wall. Harry looked up to see Snape was frowning slightly. Harry looked back, the black hair and tattered robes suddenly recognizable; it was Sirius. He was in the department of mysteries, fighting Bella. A green light shone from the pensieve and Sirius fell backwards through something, disappearing from view. Harry hadn't noticed the cold tear creeping down his cheek as he watched, but it was there all the same, and was soon joined by more all creeping steadily down his cheeks.
"You don't want to forget that."
"I want more than anything to forget." Harry replied slowly, wiping his cheeks with the sleeve of his robes.
"No. You want more than anything to hang on to that memory. To keep blaming yourself for his death and to not let yourself to forget it." Snape's voice was cold but understanding. As if a light had switched on in his head, Harry realised why Snape was being so understanding as a figure rose from the bowl, this time taking on an older form of Snape. Harry watched as the figure was engulfed in green and he fell lifelessly to the floor.
"That was my father." Snape murmured. "I watched as the Dark Lord murdered him. I did nothing. I refuse to let go of the guilt from that day. I did nothing to stop it." Snape leaned forward in his hands as the Pensieve held the shimmering silver contents. "The memories don't disappear, they merely take a different form when you hide them away. Like these do in the Pensieve. You mustn't worry about losing him."
As Snape placed the thought back into Harry's head, he knew the lesson was over. He stood and stepped to the door, Snape with his back to him, placing the pensieve on the bookcase.
"Thank you sir." Harry muttered, and without waiting for any reply, he opened the door and left.
"So, how did it go?" Hermione asked as Harry sat down next to them in front of the fire.
"Ok." Harry replied slowly. "Snape's a pretty decent guy when he wants to be."
"Snape? Decent?" Ron asked in confusion. "That Occl-watsit has gone to your head mate. I think you're going mad!"