Author's Note: Yes, I did mean to end it there. (And Chp. 6/Pt. 7 of The Sensitive's Gift will be posted Friday evening (EST).)
Disclaimer in Part 1. All dialogue in this scene is taken from Chp. 14 of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, copyright © J. K. Rowling 1999.
Potter was jumping out from behind the statue of the one-eyed witch as Snape turned the corner. His face looked flushed and sweaty - no doubt he'd run back - and Snape could see traces of mud on his hands. He felt a definite touch of triumph - mixed with a large amount of anger. And Albus claims that Potter is unlike his father and the Marauders... This is just the sort of thing they would have done.
"So," he said coldly, as he stopped in front of the boy. Potter tried to fix an innocent expression on his face, hiding his hands in his pockets, but Snape was well aware he had the boy this time. There could be no doubt Potter had snuck out to Hogsmeade, defying the school rules - not to mention all the precautions that had been put in place simply to assure his safety! "Come with me, Potter."
Snape turned and led the way down to his office. He could see Potter out of the corner of his eye - he wasn't going to risk having the boy try to escape him - and was not amused at the feeble attempt to clean the mud off his hands. Instead, he was becoming more and more infuriated with each step he took.
Arthur Weasley had explained to the boy about Black. Minerva had done the same. Black had broken in to Hogwarts twice in his efforts to get to Potter - and the second time, he had nearly killed Potter's best friend.
And still, the boy seemed to think nothing of wandering around Hogsmeade unprotected!
Opening the door to his office, Snape ushered the boy in and pointed at a chair. "Sit," he ordered.
The boy sat down in the chair, still doing his best to look innocent.
"Mr. Malfoy has just been to see me with a strange story, Potter," he said. The boy didn't answer.
Playing a waiting game? You'll have to do better than that, Potter. "He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into Weasley - apparently alone."
Still no response.
"Mr. Malfoy states that he was standing talking to Weasley, when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?" Snape asked.
Potter did his best to look surprised as he replied. "I don't know, Professor."
Snape was not amused. Fixing his eyes on the boy, he continued, "Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter?"
"No," the boy replied. There was a touch of curiosity in his voice, but he was even less skilled at this sort of deception than Quirrell had been - before Voldemort had possessed him.
"It was your head, Potter. Floating in mid-air."
Snape crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the boy to respond.
A minute or two later - when Potter had obviously reached the limits of his ability to restrain himself - he replied, "Maybe he'd better go to Madam Pomfrey. If he's seeing things like--"
His anger increasing at the hint that Potter wasn't taking this seriously, Snape interrupted, keeping his voice soft. "What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter? Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade."
"I know that," Potter said, and Snape could see nervousness in the boy's eyes. "It sounds like Malfoy's having hallucin--"
This had gone on long enough. It was not a joke or a prank, and it was time Potter realized that.
"Malfoy is not having hallucinations," Snape snarled - and, to help make his point clear, he trapped Potter on the chair and bent in close. "If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you."
"I've been up on Gryffindor Tower," Potter protested. "Like you told--"
Stupid boy. "Can anyone confirm that?" he demanded.
Potter didn't have anything to say to that, and Snape smiled thinly. Now that Potter understood that he'd trapped himself, time to get it across to him just how serious this transgression was. He hadn't listened to the cautions others had given; maybe he'd pay attention to a description of just what he'd been doing.
"So," Snape said coolly, straightening up. "Everyone from the Minister for Magic downwards has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences."
It was truth enough. Certainly even Potter must have noticed just how much effort everyone had put in to protecting the school from Black - and Potter was Black's main target.
He doesn't think of consequences to his rule-breaking - and Albus lets him get away with it - just like his father. Potter was silent, and Snape couldn't tell whether or not he'd gotten his point across. Just like his father... Perhaps that's the way to go. Everyone tells him how much he's like James Gryffindor Golden Boy Potter - but none of them ever point out that he has James's faults as well as whatever virtues he showed. Someone certainly should - especially when those faults were part of what cost him and Lily their lives.
"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter," Snape opened with. "He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch pitch made him think he was a cut above the rest of us, too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers... the resemblance between you is uncanny."
"My dad didn't strut," Potter interrupted suddenly. "And nor do I."
You know this about James how, Potter? And how do you think your fellow students see you? Time to get to the point - he couldn't afford to let the dislike and bitterness he felt for James Potter get in the way of his efforts to make James's son understand what he was doing. "Your father didn't set much store by rules, either. Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen--" Snape could have cursed himself as that last came out of his mouth. He'd meant to rein in the bitterness, but it seemed to be leaking out despite his conscious control...
He was taken aback as Potter suddenly interrupted him with a shout. "SHUT UP!"
The boy was suddenly standing, a look of utter rage on his face, and Snape felt an answering fury in himself.
"What did you say to me, Potter?" The words were hissed, his voice deadly quiet.
"I told you to shut up about my dad!" the boy yelled back at him. "I know the truth, all right? He saved your life! Dumbledore told me! You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for my dad!"
Snape felt himself pale, not sure what he was feeling, as Potter's words called up the memories of what had happened in full colour. He'd worked hard to bury them well enough to be able to handle dealing with Lupin again, but what the brat had just said...
Dumbledore had told him that?! Had told the boy - or at least implied - that James Potter had selflessly saved his life? It was obvious that Potter didn't know the details...
He was tired of pretending that he didn't care about Lupin's presence, didn't care that it was Sirius Black who had escaped. And perhaps a carefully edited version of what had happened, since Dumbledore had forbidden him to expose Lupin for what he was, would help get across the fact that every action had consequences; a fact that Potter obviously had no understanding of, as his actions today demonstrated.
Not to mention make it clear that even the Golden Boy had his faults.
"And did the Headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life?" Snape asked, keeping his voice a whisper. Not only would it impact Potter more that way, but maybe by whispering it, he could keep from screaming at the memories... "Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter's ears?"
Potter bit at his lower lip - not wanting to admit that he didn't know, Snape suspected. He found a bitter grin forming on his face, and didn't bother to hide it. That Dumbledore was still protecting the Marauders and James Potter's precious reputation shouldn't have surprised him, but it did.
Letting the grin stay on his face - Snape himself wasn't sure whether it was to hide his bitterness or display it - he continued, "I would hate you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter. Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you - your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment." Once again, despite what he wanted, Snape could hear the bitterness in his voice. He couldn't help it - the memories were highly unpleasant. "There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts."
Enough! I won't break my word to Albus... and if Potter is going to be properly punished, I need proof to take him. And Potter needs to be punished for this - he needs to learn! Forcibly pushing aside the memories, Snape glared at Potter, baring his teeth in a threatening scowl. "Turn out your pockets, Potter!"
The boy didn't move.
So, he has got some proof of his visit to Hogsmeade... "Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the Headmaster!" Snape ordered. That was a threat Potter would respond to; none of the students, even his Slytherins, liked disappointing Dumbledore - he had a way of making them feel terribly guilty - and this unauthorized excursion would definitely disappoint him. "Pull them out, Potter!"
Potter slowly pulled out a bag from Zonko's and an old, blank piece of parchment.
Snape simply picked up the Zonko's bag. He didn't have to say a word.
"Ron gave them to me," Potter blurted out. "He - brought them back from Hogsmeade last time--"
A pitiful excuse, Snape thought contemptuously. "Indeed? And you've been carrying them round ever since?" His eyes caught on the piece of parchment, and a vague sense of recognition flickered at the back of his mind. It seemed familiar, for some reason - he was sure he'd seen this exact piece of parchment somewhere before... "How very touching..." he continued absently, picking up the parchment, "and what is this?"
Potter gave a careless shrug, but his eyes showed he was nervous. "Spare bit of parchment," he answered.
Keeping his eyes on the boy, Snape turned it over absently. He had seen it before... the only question was where, and when... Either way, it was not simply a 'spare bit of parchment'. Potter's reaction was enough to tell him that, even if he hadn't had that sense of recognition.
Now, he just had to find out precisely what it was... "Surely you don't need such a very old piece of parchment," he suggested. "Why don't I just - throw this away?" Snape moved his hand toward the fire, as though he was about to throw the parchment in.
"No!" Potter said quickly.
"So!" Snape fixed his eyes on the boy, his nostrils flaring. He could almost smell his victory. "Is this another treasured gift from Mr. Weasley? Or is it - something else? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or - instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the Dementors?"
Potter blinked at that last, and Snape's eyes gleamed in triumph.
"Let me see, let me see..." he muttered, as he took his wand out and put the parchment down on his desk, smoothing it flat. Touching his wand to the parchment, he ordered, "Reveal your secret!"
Nothing happened.
This time, he tapped the parchment with his wand as he spoke. "Show yourself!"
Again, nothing happened. Snape felt his anger start to rise again.
"Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" he snapped, using his wand to hit the parchment.
Words started to appear, and Snape felt himself freeze in shock as he read it.
'Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.'
Now he knew where he recognized the parchment from! He'd seen the Marauders with it, several times...
Was everything this year going to be about the Marauders? Potter was bad enough as a reminder, but to have Lupin here, and Black at large...
The parchment hadn't finished.
'Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.'
Snape gritted his teeth as he cast his eyes at Potter. The boy looked as though he wanted to laugh, but didn't dare.
Somehow, Snape wasn't finding this that amusing.
'Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor.'
It didn't surprise Snape - he knew perfectly well who 'Padfoot' was, and Black had always enjoyed insulting his intelligence. Potter had closed his eyes, obviously not wanting to risk the temptation to laugh.
There was only one more left, and as Snape watched, the last message scrawled across the parchment.
'Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.'