Disclaimer: I am a starving college student- I own nothing.
Chapter 13: On Brewing Weapons
Snape looked up as he heard a scuffling sound coming from Potter's table. The blasted animal had fought its way out of the box.
Snape groaned inwardly as the deplorable thing dove into Potter's cauldron.
Wonderful, thought Snape. What the hell was I thinking allowing that creature in here anyway?
"Idiot boy!" Snape snapped.
Was the Blasted Brat actually considering sticking his hand into a boiling cauldron in order to save an animal?
"Can't you see he's enjoying it?" Snape asked the brat, effectively distracting him from the very Gryffindor act of foolhardiness he was about to engage in.
"She," said Potter, only to be ignored by Snape.
"For Merlin's sake, boy, that's your wand hand! What on earth were you thinking?" asked Snape.
"Er, I suppose I wasn't," said Harry truthfully.
"Clearly," Snape sneered.
"Well, let's see what you have made of this," Snape said as he looked into Potter's cauldron. The creature was splashing around playfully. Potter was hissing at the thing in what could only be described as a fond manner. Snape almost sniggered. Almost.
"Well, Potter, drink," commanded Snape.
Potter paled. Snape smirked.
"But… Professor…" Potter spluttered, a wild look in his eyes.
"Drink it, Potter, it will not kill you," Snape sighed exasperatedly.
"Are you sure, Professor, I mean, you said yourself that the Serpede could contaminate things, how can you be sure it hasn't turned the potion into poison?" asked a frightened Potter. Snape liked that look on him. He tried to instill fear in the boy as often as possible.
Serpede? Is that what he had named the blasted thing?
"Nothing of a serpentine nature would turn a Truth Potion into poison, Potter, it would only affect the effectiveness of the potion. Well, nothing known, in any case, though, who knows what Hagrid has created here? So yes, it could perhaps kill you Potter." Snape smiled evilly.
Potter glared at him, picked up a ladle, and poured a portion of the potion into a glass. Potter took a deep breath, lifted the glass to his lips, and drank the potion.
"What is your name?" asked Snape.
"Harry James Potter," Potter replied.
"Have you ever stolen anything from my office?" asked Snape.
Snape figured he might as well make Potter uncomfortable.
"No, sir," Potter replied happily.
Snape raised an eyebrow at this.
"Is your friend Ron Weasley quite moronic?" asked Snape smirking.
"He most certainly is not!" came the indignant response.
"Indeed?" asked Snape, not expecting a response. Even Potter couldn't be dimwitted enough to believe that the Weasley boy wasn't an idiot.
"Are you capable of telling a lie right now," asked Snape.
"Yes," said Harry, who only realized that that was true once he had spoken the words.
Snape looked disappointed for a moment - his fun had been ruined, after all - but his expression quickly became one of contemplation. The potion had looked and smelt right. Snape ladled some of the potion into another glass. It tasted as it should as well. Snape had watched Potter brew the potion, and the brat had actually gotten it right, for once. What had that odd little creature done to the potion?
"Impressive, Potter," Snape said. "You have properly defused the potion, accidental though I don't doubt this effect is."
Potter beamed, even while looking slightly peeved. Snape couldn't help but be amused.
"You may go, Potter," said Snape, who had quite competently hidden his amusement behind a mask of annoyance.
"Read this before next lesson," Snape added, picking up a book from his desk and handing it to Potter. This book was actually a decent Dark Arts book, unlike the last book Snape had given Potter, which had been absolute rubbish.
Snape gave Potter an upraising look. "Have you figured out yet why I assigned you the last book to read?"
"To torture me with that horrid thing," said the brat.
"Very good, Potter. It is utter rubbish. I wanted to see if you could identify it as such. Now go."
Snape waited for the brat to leave, then turned back to his research. What he had told Potter earlier was true. Veritaserum had a faint odor that very few could pick up on. It was said to be odorless and tasteless, and it was for the most part: Snape had managed to fool Umbridge by providing her with water. But Snape himself had a very keen sense of smell, and could distinguish between the two. As could the Dark Lord. Snape wondered if Hagrid's new little creature wasn't exactly the answer he had been looking for.
Even if it didn't provide the answer to his ongoing search for a potion that could immunize one against Veritaserum, it could perhaps allow him to produce a phony version of the potion that could fool the Dark Lord. Snape immediately set to work on his experimentation. Who would have thought Potter would hand the Order an entire new arsenal of potions? Figures, though, thought Snape, with the typical Potter luck that brat has.
And they would all have to do with hiding the truth, too, wouldn't they? How appropriate, intoned Snape's other voice.
Indeed, Snape agreed with himself.
* * * * *
That evening, Severus sat in his chambers with a nice glass of firewhisky for company. He rubbed at his temples. It had been a long day, but Snape was happy with the progress he had made on his research. Well, as happy as Snape was capable of being, in any case.
Severus decided to take a stroll and ponder his discoveries. Stalking the halls of Hogwarts always helped him think more clearly.
Severus was deep in thought, contemplating the effect of adding Serpede toenails to his potion when he sensed movement behind him. Before Severus could react, he was standing on the ceiling, glaring down at one Harry Potter. Perennial Pest won't give me a moment's peace, thought Snape.
"Potter!" Snape bellowed.
"Er, sorry, Professor," the brat said as his lycanthropic friend came out from behind a suit of armor.
"What, pray tell, are you doing, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked for the second time that day as he righted himself.
"Practicing defense tactics, Professor," Potter responded cheekily.
"I thought using the entire castle would be most effective for these lessons," explained the werewolf.
"Indeed?" responded Snape for the umpteenth time that day.
"Legilimens," cried Snape, his wand directed at Potter before the brat could think to respond. If the boy wanted to practice defense, Snape felt obliged to be of assistance. Or the Headmaster would accept that excuse, in any case.
Images of Potter's horrid excuse for a childhood assailed the professor, who felt uncharacteristically tempted to lift the curse on the boy, but refrained from doing so. Almost. As Snape came across a memory of Potter's from the previous summer, he lifted his wand, ending the curse.
"Tell me I didn't just see your uncle strangling you, Potter,"* said Snape in a low, tired voice.
The werewolf growled.
"Harry?" Lupin asked. "Is that true."
"Well, just that once," Potter said, not meeting anyone's eyes.
Snape sighed. He was very glad that this was something he could leave for the werewolf to deal with. It was also something he would have to speak to the headmaster about. What had Albus been thinking, placing his golden boy with those despicable Muggles?
*Don't blame me, that's canon.
Note: I know this chapter and the last have been short, but I wanted to split up the perspective, so I'm giving you guys two chapters today. Together, they are decently lengthed.