Disclaimer: Just toying with someone else's plays.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm really glad you all enjoyed that little scene. I'm glad to be of service: I live to amuse. I'm skipping individual replies in the interest of getting this chapter posted.
Chapter 9: Snapes and Snarls
"Albus, we have a problem." Snape once again found himself in an irritated mood as he paced the Headmaster's office.
"And what might that be, Severus," asked Albus.
"Firstly, there's a deranged house elf on the loose," Snape intoned, "and secondly, Potter can't speak a word of truth," Snape added offhandedly.
"Oh, you met Dobby!" Dumbledore beamed. "Honestly, though, Severus, don't you think you're being just a bit hard on Harry? Be fair to the boy," Dumbledore admonished the younger wizard.
Snape sneered. Then something clicked.
"Honestly Albus, you simply cannot be serious!"
"What can't I be serious about this time, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.
"You commissioned a house elf to spy on Potter, didn't you? Oh that is a most excellent means through which to gain the brat's trust. And though I do think the boy is a Lying Little Sneak, I meant the latter statement literally." The sarcasm fairly dripped from Severus's tone of voice.
"Oh dear. I take it you've begun tutoring young Harry in Potions, then?" Dumbledore queried.
"Indeed," Snape confirmed.
"Where is young Mr. Potter now, Severus?" inquired Dumbledore.
"I don't know, stirring up trouble somewhere or other, I presume." Dumbledore gave Snape a reproachful look.
"You saw fit to let him wander around the castle in his condition?" Dumbledore's eyes were gleaming. "You may be right this time, Severus. It is highly likely that he is stirring up some trouble, inadvertently of course." Snape harrumphed at that.
"Tell me, Severus," Dumbledore continued, "how did Harry come to be in his current condition? I was under the impression that you would be working on Truth Potions with him."
Snape thought Dumbledore was altogether too amused by this situation.
"Yes, well, the brat, no doubt in an attempt to render his potion impotent created a Deceit Potion instead. A mishap worthy of Longbottom," Snape sneered, "though the result may prove to be an invaluable weapon," Snape grudgingly added. "Besides, it's hardly as if the effects are readily identifiable given the boy's usual disposition."
Dumbledore was delighted. Too delighted, in Snape's opinion.
Dumbledore's next question irked the potions master.
"Why would Harry attempt to sabotage his own potion."
"Albus, you assigned me the task of teaching your Blundering Brat, please do me the courtesy of not questioning my methods," Snape prevaricated.
Too Snape's great annoyance, this evasion only served to further entertain the Decidedly Mad Headmaster.
"I trust you Severus," Dumbledore smiled, "but do ease up on the boy some, he truly is a good child."
"That's precisely what vexes me so," Snape grumbled. "He has you all believing that."
* * * * *
interlude
Will Albus never allow me a moment's peace? Snape grumbled to himself.
Grumbling again, are we now?
I do not grumble, I GROWL! Snape growled at his other voice.
Yeah, whatever.
Oh shut up!
To Snape's surprise, the voice complied.
Check on Potter, harrumph!
Harrumphing again, are we now?
Okay, not gone yet.
end interlude
* * * * *
Snape knocked on Potter's door. After a moment passed, the brat answered the door.
Snape snarled. "Potter. The Headmaster in his limitless wisdom has requested that I ascertain your current condition. May I enter?" Snape was not pleased by the need to pose the statement as a request."
"No, Sir," said Harry amicably.
Snape glared. His migraine had reasserted its presence.
Snape entered the Brat's domicile as Potter moved away from the doorway, allowing Snape entry, and took a seat at one of the armchairs by the fire. Bloody Gryffindoresque room. Snape didn't wait for an invitation, as would have been the proper thing to do. He wasn't quite sure Potter was capable of extending an invitation.
Snape pulled out a sheaf of parchment, a quill, and a small bottle of ink.
Subject remains under the influence of the potion approximately one hour following ingestion, Snape wrote.
"Potter." The brat took a seat near his professor.
"Have you ever stolen anything from my office?" asked Snape. In the interest of scientific research, of course.
"Yes," responded the Aggravating Little Twit.
Potion is not fully reliable, Snape added to his notes. Further experimentation required.
Snape smirked. He was going to have some fun.
"Are you a Brainless Gryffindor?" asked Snape.
"Yes, I am," Harry replied, glaring at his professor.
Subject is alert and aware of the implications of his words, Snape noted.
Snape set his quill down and looked intently at Potter.
"In addition to the assignment I gave you earlier, I want you to write an exposition detailing the steps you took in modifying your potion - yes, Potter, I know you purposefully misbrewed the potion, - the reasons you failed to achieve your intended result, and a description of the effects of the potion from your own perspective. In addition, you are to outline the proper steps that should have been taken to neutralize the potion without altering its sensually observable properties." Snape smirked as he watched Potter's reaction.
Did the boy think he was an idiot? Did he think he didn't know that his threat would cause the brat to alter his potion? Honestly. Snape wondered if the boy thought at all sometimes. Okay, much of the time. Fine, whenever he had cause to think of the brat.
The brat is a Gryffindor to the core, Snape mused.
Or so Snape thought.
"I am," affirmed Potter.
Apparently, Snape had voiced his thoughts out loud.
Does that mean the potion is wearing off, or does the spawn of James Bloody Potter have some Hufflepuff in him? Snape wondered.
Snape decided to take advantage of the situation.
"What else would you be Potter, other than the epitome of all that is Gryffindor," Snape asked.
"Hufflepuff," Potter smirked.
Well, there goes that theory. The brat can't be a Ravenclaw, or a Slytherin, Merlin forbid.
Snape narrowed his eyes at Potter. "I think that will do for tonight," Snape hissed. "And I want to see six feet of parchment on the assignment I gave you by tomorrow evening," Snape added spitefully.
Clearly, Potter was playing games with him now. The potion had worn off, yet Potter was acting as if it had not. Should have anticipated that, Snape chastised himself. The brat has never taken anything seriously in his life, much like that mutt of a godfather of his. Snape snarled. He was glad to see fear in the Potter boy's eyes.
Lily's eyes, said Snape's infuriating second voice.
That did it. The Voice was going to die. The Voice was going to suffer a slow, bloody death. Now if Snape could just think of a way to get rid of it. Would a modified exorcism work? And where the bloody hell had the voice come from, anyway?
Meaningless Meanderings: I have exams to study for. I did hope to make this chapter a long one, but this is all I can write for now. It isn't short though, and it is complete. I hope that qualifies as fulfilling my promise.