IV. Snape
With their N.E.W.T.s only days away, the potions class had become unbearable. Even Hermione was close to cracking under the strain. She stirred her cauldron woodenly, a hysterical half-grin on her face. Ron seemed past caring; his own potion had turned into a great blue mass with the consistency and smell of week-old cottage cheese. Ron, with an oblivious look of joy, kept adding ingredients to the belching cauldron. Harry's own potion looked rather like Hermione's. Of course, he'd been practicing. Anything to keep from giving Snape an excuse to berate him. Everyone knew that he always brought out the Elixir of Power a few days before the N.E.W.T.s because it was the most difficult potion known to wizardkind.
"You may now come and collect the Sphinx's blood," Snape said. "Remember—do not test your potion until after the blood is added."
The three of them got in line to collect their potion. Ron yawned and stretched. "Look on the bright side," he said, taking in Harry and Hermione's tired faces. "In just a few weeks classes will be over once and for all. No more—well, know more you-know-who." He jerked his head toward Snape.
"No," Hermione said, caustic sarcasm dripping from her voice. "There won't be anything difficult to do after our N.E.W.T.s. Just auror training. Oh, yes, and actually fighting Death Eaters. That's all."
"You'd think the Head Girl would be able to take a little stress in stride," Ron said.
"Like you, you mean? Yes, we've all heard about your revolutionary approach to studying. You're only smart enough to get certain marks anyway, so why bother working your tail off for no good reason." Hermione made a little noise of annoyance. "Why should you be happy when the rest of us are so miserable?"
The last student in front of her moved aside, and Snape handed Hermione a small vial full of crystal-clear fluid. She took it and stomped back to her seat.
"Don't mind her," Ron said to Harry. "She'll cheer up after Friday."
"Oh yes," Harry said, trying not to duplicate Hermione's noise of annoyance. "The 'special date' you have planned. You've mentioned it."
Ron winked, collected his bottle, and returned to his desk.
Snape saw Harry and gave him a greasy little smirk. "Ah, Potter," he said. He held out Harry's bottle. Harry reached out to take it, but Snape refused to let go. "Do be careful, Potter. I'd hate for you to ruin your last potion of the term."
Harry glared at Snape. "Don't worry," he said, jerking the bottle out of his hand.
The class seemed to take forever. Harry added his bottle of Sphinx's blood, stirred, and allowed his cauldron to simmer for ten minutes, as instructed.
"You may now test your potions," Snape said. "If you have brewed them correctly, you will begin to feel stronger within a few moments. You should line up in front of this hammer and bell so I can test your level of increased strength."
Harry ladled a bit of his potion into a glass, and drank it down. It tasted pleasantly like cinnamon and nutmeg. It made him think of cool winter nights.
"I feel stronger already," Ron said. "Watch this." He picked up a thick wooden spoon, and tried to crush it in his fist. The spoon remained stubbornly uncrushed, although Ron's face turned slightly pink.
"My hero," Hermione said, shaking her head. "The potion won't have kicked in yet. You ought to know that."
"How about you, Harry?" Ron said, turning. "Feel strong enough to beat Ravenclaw tomorrow?"
Actually, Harry thought, he felt weaker. "I feel kind of tired," he said, slumping backward in his seat.
"Harry—" Hermione said. "You don't look so good."
"Are you okay, mate?" Ron said, concern lining his face.
"I—I dunno," Harry said. It was strange. His head felt heavy. He'd never thought it was heavy before. He let it sink onto the table.
"Professor! Professor!" Hermione shouted.
Through his blurring vision, Harry caught sight of Professor Snape sweeping toward them like a great, black, bat. He bent low over Harry. Harry thought for a moment that Snape was checking his pulse, but then he heard a whisper in his ear.
"You have been a thorn in my side for seven years, Potter," he whispered, his voice so low that no one else would have been able to hear it. "All this time, I've had to pretend to have left my master's service. I've had to keep you alive until the Dark Lord was finished with you. And now, at last, I have proven my allegiance to him. I have gotten rid of the last remaining obstacle in his path to greatness. Goodbye, Harry Potter."
Snape straightened up, and lifted the glass vial that had contained Harry's Sphinx blood. Only Harry could have seen Snape replace the empty bottle—which he now realized must have contained only water—with a full one.
"The fool!" Snape said urgently. "He forgot to add his Sphinx blood! Quick—Malfoy, run for Madame Pomfrey!" Hermione let out a small shriek. Harry wanted desperately to turn his head, to tell her what Snape had said, but his body remained firmly stuck. He could not move. He could feel the last ounces of his strength draining away.
With a terrible pang, Harry realized that the last thing he would see in this life would be Snape's oily smirk. His vision dimmed, and he felt himself pulling away, as though being pulled out of his body. On the edge of his hearing, he was aware of voices, although they sounded far away now.
"What's happening?" Ron shouted.
"Oh, Ron," Hermione wailed. "Everyone knows that the sphinx blood is the only thing that stops the elixir of strength from being a terrible poison!"
With their N.E.W.T.s only days away, the potions class had become unbearable. Even Hermione was close to cracking under the strain. She stirred her cauldron woodenly, a hysterical half-grin on her face. Ron seemed past caring; his own potion had turned into a great blue mass with the consistency and smell of week-old cottage cheese. Ron, with an oblivious look of joy, kept adding ingredients to the belching cauldron. Harry's own potion looked rather like Hermione's. Of course, he'd been practicing. Anything to keep from giving Snape an excuse to berate him. Everyone knew that he always brought out the Elixir of Power a few days before the N.E.W.T.s because it was the most difficult potion known to wizardkind.
"You may now come and collect the Sphinx's blood," Snape said. "Remember—do not test your potion until after the blood is added."
The three of them got in line to collect their potion. Ron yawned and stretched. "Look on the bright side," he said, taking in Harry and Hermione's tired faces. "In just a few weeks classes will be over once and for all. No more—well, know more you-know-who." He jerked his head toward Snape.
"No," Hermione said, caustic sarcasm dripping from her voice. "There won't be anything difficult to do after our N.E.W.T.s. Just auror training. Oh, yes, and actually fighting Death Eaters. That's all."
"You'd think the Head Girl would be able to take a little stress in stride," Ron said.
"Like you, you mean? Yes, we've all heard about your revolutionary approach to studying. You're only smart enough to get certain marks anyway, so why bother working your tail off for no good reason." Hermione made a little noise of annoyance. "Why should you be happy when the rest of us are so miserable?"
The last student in front of her moved aside, and Snape handed Hermione a small vial full of crystal-clear fluid. She took it and stomped back to her seat.
"Don't mind her," Ron said to Harry. "She'll cheer up after Friday."
"Oh yes," Harry said, trying not to duplicate Hermione's noise of annoyance. "The 'special date' you have planned. You've mentioned it."
Ron winked, collected his bottle, and returned to his desk.
Snape saw Harry and gave him a greasy little smirk. "Ah, Potter," he said. He held out Harry's bottle. Harry reached out to take it, but Snape refused to let go. "Do be careful, Potter. I'd hate for you to ruin your last potion of the term."
Harry glared at Snape. "Don't worry," he said, jerking the bottle out of his hand.
The class seemed to take forever. Harry added his bottle of Sphinx's blood, stirred, and allowed his cauldron to simmer for ten minutes, as instructed.
"You may now test your potions," Snape said. "If you have brewed them correctly, you will begin to feel stronger within a few moments. You should line up in front of this hammer and bell so I can test your level of increased strength."
Harry ladled a bit of his potion into a glass, and drank it down. It tasted pleasantly like cinnamon and nutmeg. It made him think of cool winter nights.
"I feel stronger already," Ron said. "Watch this." He picked up a thick wooden spoon, and tried to crush it in his fist. The spoon remained stubbornly uncrushed, although Ron's face turned slightly pink.
"My hero," Hermione said, shaking her head. "The potion won't have kicked in yet. You ought to know that."
"How about you, Harry?" Ron said, turning. "Feel strong enough to beat Ravenclaw tomorrow?"
Actually, Harry thought, he felt weaker. "I feel kind of tired," he said, slumping backward in his seat.
"Harry—" Hermione said. "You don't look so good."
"Are you okay, mate?" Ron said, concern lining his face.
"I—I dunno," Harry said. It was strange. His head felt heavy. He'd never thought it was heavy before. He let it sink onto the table.
"Professor! Professor!" Hermione shouted.
Through his blurring vision, Harry caught sight of Professor Snape sweeping toward them like a great, black, bat. He bent low over Harry. Harry thought for a moment that Snape was checking his pulse, but then he heard a whisper in his ear.
"You have been a thorn in my side for seven years, Potter," he whispered, his voice so low that no one else would have been able to hear it. "All this time, I've had to pretend to have left my master's service. I've had to keep you alive until the Dark Lord was finished with you. And now, at last, I have proven my allegiance to him. I have gotten rid of the last remaining obstacle in his path to greatness. Goodbye, Harry Potter."
Snape straightened up, and lifted the glass vial that had contained Harry's Sphinx blood. Only Harry could have seen Snape replace the empty bottle—which he now realized must have contained only water—with a full one.
"The fool!" Snape said urgently. "He forgot to add his Sphinx blood! Quick—Malfoy, run for Madame Pomfrey!" Hermione let out a small shriek. Harry wanted desperately to turn his head, to tell her what Snape had said, but his body remained firmly stuck. He could not move. He could feel the last ounces of his strength draining away.
With a terrible pang, Harry realized that the last thing he would see in this life would be Snape's oily smirk. His vision dimmed, and he felt himself pulling away, as though being pulled out of his body. On the edge of his hearing, he was aware of voices, although they sounded far away now.
"What's happening?" Ron shouted.
"Oh, Ron," Hermione wailed. "Everyone knows that the sphinx blood is the only thing that stops the elixir of strength from being a terrible poison!"