Chapter 3 -- A Memorable Christmas
Leftover soup filled in for lunch, then Harry decided maybe to change out of his borrowed clothes since his had probably been returned. Harry had managed to find out that the house-elf's name was Esme and that she kept very much to herself. He was more than willing to believe that, not having caught even a glimpse of her.
Up in his room, Harry hung the robe back up as well as the borrowed nightshirt. His things lay neatly over the chair; his shirt whiter and better pressed than it had ever been. Aunt Petunia would have forsaken her hatred of magic if she had known about house-elves, Harry was certain.
As he pulled his own robe over his clothes, Harry thought again about the cat figurine in the housecoat. He took it out and looked it over, realizing now what it was--it was a toy from a Christmas cracker. It was Christmas Eve today, he thought with some shock as he rubbed his thumb over the seam running along the length of the trinket. After putting the figure back in the left-hand pocket and shutting the wardrobe, Harry went and sat on the overstuffed chair near the window and stared out at the snow, a grey blanket beneath thick grey clouds.
With great care, Harry relived as much of last Christmas as he could remember, filling in where he couldn't precisely. He rested his damp eyes on his sleeve and sat unmoving for over an hour, until he sensed someone behind him, in the doorway. Hoping it was Esme was far too optimistic. Harry swallowed hard and lifted his head but didn't turn around.
Snape's voice was level as he said, "I realize that this is probably not your preferred way to spend Christmas."
Harry thought about gifts of Vernon's old socks and Dudley's massive undershirts. He thought about never seeing Sirius again. "I don't care about Christmas," Harry said evenly, still staring out the window.
After a pause, Snape said, "Neither do I, Potter." Harry heard his footsteps fade as he departed.
An hour later, feeling caged, Harry returned to the library. "Is it all right if I take a walk around outside?"
Snape didn't look up as he said, "As long as you do not approach the fence--the spells around the property are designed to be terribly close to fatal."
Harry collected his cloak from the kitchen and headed outside. The air bit more sharply than he thought it would, making it hard to breathe. He walked around the lee side of the house out of the wind and slowed down to study the landscape. A few old trees surrounded by brush made up the clearing beyond the fence. Dense young forest rose up beyond that, shielding the view, even in winter. Harry started up the hill behind the house. If there were gardens laid out, they were buried too deep in snow to see. The property extended a good distance in the back, far enough for him to work up a sweat climbing the hill in the snow.
Halfway up, the grass grew longer and stuck out of the undulating white in random brown tufts. The unevenness made the going slower, but by this time, Harry was enjoying this little freedom too much to turn back. The rise levelled off and a flat mown area, surrounded by its own fence, came into view with a lone tombstone. The two Snapes chiseled on it must be his professor's parents. Harry thought back to the worst of his Occlumency lessons. The very brief glimpses he had gotten of Snape's memories did not resemble this house. They must have moved here later. The first ones to do so. The dates of death were buried in snow and Harry didn't feel like intruding to read them. He walked on instead.
At the back fence, Harry could just see over the top of the rise and out over the hills. In the distance a small town sat between the hillocks. Sunlight stabbed through the clouds here and there making him imagine that somewhere other people were enjoying themselves without a care while here he stood with this weight of responsibility too large to carry.
He thought back to his fight with Voldemort in the graveyard. It occurred to him that not knowing he was supposed to vanquish the Dark Lord probably saved his life. Surviving was all Harry could have managed and he might have been unwise enough to have tried to end it there instead.
After his toes went numb, Harry turned and slowly walked back to the house. Snape hadn't moved from the writing desk. Harry searched the bookshelf again. This time Spells of War looked more interesting than it had previously. He settled into the chair with it, lighting the nearby lamp to see better.
If Binn's History of Magic lessons included this stuff, Harry would be getting a much better grade. The book was full of gruesome battle scenes where complicated, multi-wizard spells were used to take down attacking giants, giant spiders, and conjured battle monsters. He didn't look up from the book until the writing desk drawer snapped closed.
"There is some cold joint if you are hungry," Snape said offhandedly.
Harry was definitely so, his cold walk assured that, but he had not noticed until asked. He set the book down on the small table that held the lamp and followed his host down to the kitchen.
They ate cold roast mutton so tender it fell apart as Harry wrapped his bread around it. When he sat back after filling up, he almost asked if there had been a message. He decided not to test Snape's patience and to trust what he had said earlier.
"Can I use the bath?" Harry asked instead.
Snape spelled more wood onto the embers of the hearth fire. "Give it a half hour or so to heat."
Harry took his time collecting the nightshirt and housecoat. Back down in the bathroom he found towels and soap in a carved stone alcove around the corner from the door. He wondered, not for the first time, how Esme kept everything so organized without ever being visible.
Harry discovered a feature of this Roman era bath that even his Aunt Petunia's shiny modern porcelain one could not hold up to: no waiting. It took less than twenty seconds for the bath to fill with steaming water once the sluice was opened. As he unhooked the cord holding the block open, he could hear another one move in the wall and water running into the cistern to refill it. As he settled into the marvelously hot water, he decided he would stop making fun of the ancient plumbing.
Clean and very relaxed, Harry dressed in the nightshirt and robe, respelled again to shorten it, and returned to the library since he was still alert despite being relaxed. He realized as he settled into the same chair with his feet tucked under him that he carried the aura of Lavender with him now from the soap. It wasn't a smell he was used to and it made him worry more starkly what exactly was going on back at Hogsmeade and the school. Rubbing his temple to distract himself he buried his mind in the book again with an obsessive thirst for anything that might help him later.
Snape stepped into the library just as Harry was rereading a section on disemboweling spells. "It is getting late," he stated simply.
"Is it?" Harry asked, surprised.
Matter-of-factly, Snape said, "I expect to get a message in the early morning, but that is of course, conjecture."
Harry closed the book and stood up with it. He stretched his neck and put the book back on the shelf just as the clock in the hall chimed twelve. Harry stood with his hand on the shelf a moment, listening. When it stopped, he turned to Snape. Neither of them spoke as Harry stepped passed him and headed for the stairs.
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The next morning Harry awoke with the grey daylight. Eager to find out if they had been called back, he tossed on the robe and only remembered to respell it after he tripped on the hem on the way out of the room. As he headed for the stairs, Snape stepped out of the room on the end. He met Harry's gaze and gave him a small shake of the head. Harry deflated and frowned. "How long do we wait?" he asked.
"As long as it takes. You may not understand obeying authority, Potter, but it is essential for the Order. Otherwise we would be all dead," he replied.
Harry's brow furrowed as he wondered if Snape meant something more by that. His suspicious look didn't fade as his teacher approached along the balcony.
"Is it possible to have a normal breakfast this morning, Potter?" Snape went on in one of his typical tones. Harry flinched slightly and looked away. Quietly, Snape said, "I should not have said that. Let's try it again." He started down the steps. "Come, Mr. Potter," he said in a much gentler voice, "let's get you some breakfast."
Still stinging, Harry followed. In the kitchen, he sat in the same place and stared at the rough-grained tabletop while preparation was underway. Eventually, two plates with identical servings of beans, toast, and egg were placed on the table. Harry noticed that Snape had cottoned on to everything that had struck him the day before. He hoped he was not always so transparent.
Harry piled the beans onto his toast and said, "I'm not trying to find out anything I'm not supposed to know, but it is Dumbledore who initiates this message, right?"
"Yes."
"What if . . . he's not available to do it? Who would send it then?"
After a silence, Harry looked up. It appeared that Snape had been avoiding this line of thinking. "McGonagall, I would suppose."
"Does she know how?" he asked, hoping that wasn't a stupid question. Snape shook his head faintly and Harry went on, "It would take her some time to figure out how, right?"
"A few days, I would presume."
Harry pushed some of the overflowing beans off his now soggy toast. "I don't think that's what's going on."
"No?" Snape asked sarcastically. "And why is that?"
He thought for a while back over the last few days. "If . . . the Dark Lord managed that, he would be pretty ecstatic. I'd have felt that."
Snape studied him closely before returning in silence to his own breakfast. Eventually he poured coffee for them both and put his plate aside. Harry still pushed his remaining beans around although he had eaten his toast and egg.
"How long will you wait?" Harry asked again.
His teacher took a deep breath. "It is going to become somewhat problematic in a week as I have other . . . things I must attend to."
"And school isn't one of them?" Harry asked, since Hogwarts restarted in three more days.
"Not without a signal it isn't."
For a moment, Harry could not breath. To cover, he picked up his plate and took it to the sink. Visions flitted through his mind of much more elaborate destruction than he had imagined previously. It made him dizzy. Snape interrupted his dark musings with a, "Come and drink your coffee, Potter." As Harry sat down and stared into his cup, Snape said, "Let me know if you do feel anything from the Dark Lord. Please."
Harry looked up in surprise. "You must really be worried if you are being that polite," he commented, then couldn't stop the corner of his mouth curling up. He expected an annoyed look in return but instead received a tolerant raised brow. Harry shook his head at the notion that they now understood each other this well. "I'll let you know," he said. "It hasn't happened much this year."
"That is something, anyway." Snape took a sip from his cup and then cradled it in his hands. "I will confess to you that I am concerned. I expected overnight at the longest. I cannot come up with an explanation for this delay." He stood up and refilled their cups from the small pot before returning to his seat. "At the risk of bringing up bad memories for you, I wonder if you would satisfy my curiosity." At Harry's shrug, he went on. "I have been contemplating this rather remarkable notion of Harry Potter not knowing there is such a thing as magic." Harry dropped his gaze and stared into his teacup full of coffee. "I am curious what kind of spells you were casting. They clearly were powerful enough to alert your relatives."
"Why do you want to know?" Harry asked.
"Early spells are very indicative of a wizard's latent power."
Harry's face twisted in thought. "I'll tell you that if you'll show me some of the spells I found in a book upstairs."
"It depends upon which spell, but in theory I'll agree to that. We have nothing else to do today."
Yeah, it's only Christmas, Harry thought wryly. He took a careful sip of his reheated coffee and thought a minute. "The earliest thing I remember was my Uncle Vernon not being able to hold onto me when he had grabbed me for something Dudley had actually done, but blamed me for, a broken lamp or something. That happened a bunch of times." He looked at his Professor for a reaction.
"Auto-repelling charms are a very common early magic."
"The one that startled me the most was one day at school Dudley and his friends were chasing me and somehow I ended up on the roof when I was hiding behind the rubbish bins."
"You Apparated," Snape commented and sipped his coffee.
"Yeah, I guess I did," Harry said a little proudly. "I hadn't thought about it that way." He paused again. "Then there was the time I did something to the car. We were driving to Dudley's birthday party at a restaurant and I was really angry because I never got anything on my birthday. The car just stopped and my aunt made my Uncle Vernon look under the hood, which was kind of stupid since he doesn't know anything about them. I don't know what actually happened to the engine but he was really, really furious."
Harry fell thoughtfully quiet. That was the time they didn't feed him for a week although it fell short by a few days. He remembered now waking up in his cupboard with his aunt giving him ginger ale. During his punishment, the smell of bacon as he had prepared breakfast every morning had made him nearly psychotic with hunger. He shook himself. "It must have been a transfiguration because the mechanic who towed the car later said there was nothing wrong with it. So the spell wore off after a while."
Harry was warmed up to this topic now. "It was getting more common just before my letters from Hogwarts."
"Letters?" Snape asked. "How many did you need?"
"Thousands. Only it wasn't me who needed them--it was my aunt and uncle." Harry grinned at the memory now, knowing Dumbledore had sent them all. "On another birthday trip for Dudley at the zoo, he was teasing one of the snakes when the glass just disappeared." Harry grinned again and reached for the sugar to sweeten his coffee more. "That worked out; the snake wanted to see Brazil anyway."
Snape shook his head lightly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How long of a conversation did you have with this snake?"
"A few minutes. I was a very nice snake--it thanked me on the way out." At his professor's look, Harry added, "Hey, talking to snakes doesn't seem as strange as flying on a broomstick."
"To you."
"To me," Harry admitted.
Snape stood. "Go up to the library and look up the spells you wish to learn in the compendium, which is on the bottom right shelf. I have to take care of a few things."
Harry jumped up eagerly and went out. He laid books out on the pull out shelves beneath the upper part of the floor to ceiling shelving. As he studied them, he tapped his wand on the wood nervously. Eventually, Snape stepped up behind him and read over his shoulder. He reached out and flipped the book cover to look at the title, Spells of War. After a long pause, his professor said, "You do not wish to leave such things to others?"
Harry turned to him, finding him much closer than expected. He didn't have a response to that and Snape's sharp eyes seemed to read his expression much too well. Scrambling for a distraction, Harry said, "That didn't work last time, did it?"
Snape sighed. "No," he admitted. He flipped the book back open where he had marked the place with his finger and picked it up. "This requires at least six wizards."
"It looks useful though," Harry said. It was a trapping spell that could capture over twenty people or creatures.
"It is a short-lived spell." Snape closed the book and set it down. "Let me think about what I could show you that may be more useful to you."
Harry gave him a pained look before he could hide it. I need to destroy the Dark Lord, he wanted to say. Show me how to do that. He watched in silence as his professor paged through the compendium thoughtfully, watched as Snape bit his lip and for a moment stared unseeing at a page about gnome repelling.
"Why don't you go outside for some fresh air, Potter. You could probably use it."
Harry hesitated in surprise then shrugged and with just one backward glance, left the room to go change into his clothes.
Taking his time, Harry followed his previous tracks around the property, diverging sometimes to step closer to the fence, Close enough that he could feel the protective spells as they made his skin inch. He startled a rabbit and it hopped in a mad, darting escape path. For a moment, Harry feared it would run headlong into the barrier, but it veered off as though it too could feel it. It stopped in the sparse grass and sat still as though it were now invisible.
The cold finally cut short Harry's slow tour of the property. He returned and went back to the now empty library. He picked up the compendium and found a scrap parchment and pen and began noting which spells he thought looked useful.
After he had paged through the first third of the massive volume, Harry's nose picked up something that made his stomach growl ferociously. He closed the large book, using his scrap as a bookmark and walked down to the kitchen. "A goose," he said in surprise when he saw the quickly browning bird turning slowly on a charmed rotisserie.
Snape looked up from what might have been a cookbook. "I had Esme pick it up since she was making a trip for groceries anyway."
Harry blinked at that. He had forgotten about the house-elf. "It smells wonderful," Harry observed to cover his lapse.
"It will take over two hours before it is done," his teacher said. When Harry stepped over to look at the book he had out, Snape stepped away suddenly and opened the pantry and began taking out onions. Harry mulled over that a moment and then looked at the open page. He could only pick out a few words. The handwriting was neat but the upstrokes long and flourished and the letters themselves very small. If he hadn't known it was a recipe for roasting fowl he probably would not have been able to read any of it.
Feeling a little put out, Harry headed back up to the library and returned to the compendium. The scent distracted him almost constantly as lunchtime came and went. He felt as though he hadn't eaten in days rather than having just had a full breakfast this morning. The delicious scent tormented him until Snape came up and told him it was ready. Harry followed him down, this time to the dining room, followed in a faint trail of Lavender.
"I thought we could try to be a bit more civilized," Snape commented.
Harry took a seat at one of the two place settings and looked around the room. Deep blue sashes framed the windows. They matched the worn velvet of the chairs. Harry looked expectantly at Snape, whose hair looked a little damp, which explained the underlying scent. Snape wanded the Goose to the platter awaiting it. Harry swallowed a mouthful of saliva at the sight of the crispy sizzling meat. A quick spell rendered the perfect brown bird into servings. Harry reached out for a leg and then served himself potatoes and vegetables. Heady, scented steam rose from the piece on his plate as he stared at it.
"Go ahead, Potter," Snape said.
The vegetables were ordinary but the goose was heavenly. Harry consumed three servings of meat and sat back with a groan. "Did you enjoy it?" Snape asked.
Harry sat up with a start. "Sorry," he apologized for forgetting his manners. "It was delicious. Too delicious." He gingerly rubbed his stomach and leaned back to ease the ache there.
Snape put his serviette beside his plate, stood up and went to the sideboard. He opened a dark bottle of something. The cork made a dull popping noise like the sound some wizards made when apparating, the ones that managed to do it quietly. After pouring out two small glasses, he brought them back and placed one before Harry. "That will make your stomach feel a little better." He sat back down and as Harry reached for the glass, which resembled a small wine glass, Snape said, "Ah, just a moment." He took out his wand and tapped Harry's glass. "Go ahead now."
When Harry picked it up, it was pleasantly warm. He sniffed it and nearly choked on the fumes. "What is it?"
Snape sipped his own heated glass. "Brandy."
"Oh," Harry said. It was a trick to sip without breathing, but he managed by taking a deep breath first. A path burned down to his stomach after he swallowed, but it did ease the straining ache there.
They drank in silence, the grey daylight faded from the tall windows and the wind picked up, chilling the room. "Did you find some other spells you wished to learn?" Snape finally asked when Harry had finished the last of his dark liquid.
"Yes," Harry replied, turning the small glass around in his fingers. He felt conflictingly heavy and light at the same time.
"Why don't you go back to the library were there is a fire," Snape said as he stood and wanded the remains of the bird back to the kitchen. "I will join you in a few minutes."
Harry put the small glass down, a little clumsily, and stood up. With more attention to his feet than normal, he stepped across the hall and opened the compendium again.
Harry caught himself tapping the black quill feather on the shelf as he read and forced himself to stop as it was a really nice one. He flipped forward a few pages, looking for interesting illustrations. The spells were coded for usefulness and indexed by it, but Harry didn't like the codings. Sometimes common spells were more useful than elaborate ones, especially in a panic when one didn't have time to do any lengthy conjuring.
He didn't hear Snape approach, but a waft of Lavender made Harry turn his head to find his professor directly beside him again, reading over his shoulder. Harry handed him the parchment scrap with his list. Snape read it and set it down on the shelf above the book.
Harry flipped the page. "Any of those look useful to you?" he asked.
"A few of them," Snape replied. His voice sounded off to Harry, lower.
A spell for lassoing fire and moving it caught his eye. Harry reached for the parchment and quill.
"What would you use that for?" Snape asked, curious.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Just looks interesting." He jotted it down and turned the page and continued perusing. With his professor looking over his shoulder, Harry read the next few pages. There was a lot of the book still to go and he thought maybe he should stop looking at the end of that section. He frowned in stress at the many pages of spells he couldn't possibly find the time to learn. Panic weaseled its way into Harry's chest, choking off his breath. There was no chance of fulfilling the prophecy--he was going to let everyone down, forced to watch everyone die while it happened.
Harry's quill-laden hand fell on the next open page with a thud as dry fingertips touched his temple at his glasses and traced down his cheek. The gesture utterly undid his thoughts. He wondered if this were what an Imperio felt like, because he couldn't move, even when the fingers slowly combed up through his hair and pulled his head over. He drew in a hard breath as Snape slid his other arm around him and closed the space between them. The quill fell to the floor, unnoticed, as his face pressed into the dark blue plush of Snape's robe. Harry's heart pattered wildly in his chest as Snape lifted his glasses off and set them on a nearby shelf. Long fingers combed through his hair again before he was wrapped up and pulled tighter.
They stood that way for a long time, until Harry's heartbeat and breathing slowed to something akin to normal. No one had held him that way before. Dudley received all of the affection available from Aunt Petunia and other than momentary hugs from Mrs. Weasley, adults never even tried to get this close to him.
Harry floated. Someone else had responsibility for everything at that moment and the brandy now reinforced that by making his head spin when he tried to worry about anything. Snape's hand rubbed his back slowly down and up, drawing out the last of his resistance. Harry grabbed hold of the thick robe as Snape's arms loosened, shifted up past his shoulders and carefully tilted his head back. His breath quickened again as he took in his teacher's piercing dark eyes.
Frozen still, Harry wondered if maybe he had been put under an Imperius Curse. Why else hadn't he pushed away or expressed what really should be dismay. He was unable to move because some part of him was as hungry for this as his stomach had been an hour ago for the Christmas goose, only he hadn't recognized it.
As Snape's dark eyes search his face; his fingers traced his brow. Harry had never seen a look like that; it startled him. Snape's intense gaze made him look as though he thought Harry to be the most precious thing he had ever seen. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, why his teacher had suddenly pulled him so close, but he didn't get a chance to give voice to his questions as Snape's mouth covered his.
Harry realized immediately that he had no clue what kissing really entailed. Soft lips moved over his own still ones hungrily, nipping and sucking lightly. He made a small sound and Snape pulled up and stared at him. His professor's shoulders dropped as he said, "You truly are innocent, aren't you, Potter?"
"What?" Harry asked. He didn't like the sound of that word; rebelled against it even.
Snape let him go and picked up the compendium and walked to the desk. "Let's go over a few of these, shall we," he said in a completely normal voice.
Harry stood by the bookshelf and gaped at him. Chills were still roaming up and down Harry's arms. He watched, stunned as Snape moved a sculpture off its stone pillar then shifted the pillar in front of an empty stone wall. "Potter?" Snape asked as though Harry were the one behaving oddly.
Harry shook himself and slowly walked over to his teacher as he flipped through the compendium to one of the spells. He pointed one out and Harry moved in a little closer than he felt comfortable to look at it. It was a cutting spell.
"Shall we try that one?" Snape asked conversationally.
Even this distance made Harry's skin prickle again. "Sure," Harry finally managed to reply.
Snape took up a book from the bottom shelf behind the desk. "Outdated almanacs. We will use these." He set it up on the pillar and stepped back.
"Periporta," Snape said and pointed his wand. A clean, very small hole burned its way through the book. As he put his wand down, he said, now in teacher mode, "The narrower the spell, the more power you will have to cut. Start by burning just a single spot, as you need to establish focus and aim before moving on." He stepped aside. "You try it."
Harry, still rattled and uncertain, stepped before the book. When he tried the spell, the book flew back from the pillar and smacked into the wall with a puff of smoke.
"Narrower than that, I should think," Snape commented and with an easy flick of the wand, put the book back on the pillar.
Harry repeated the spell, trying to establish focus. The best he could do was simply blast the book apart rather than knocking it off. He frowned in frustration.
"It takes a bit practice, Potter. Have some patience with yourself," Snape commented evenly in a totally un-Snape-like voice.
Gaping again, Harry blinked at his teacher a moment before realizing he must look stupid doing that. He rolled his shoulders a few times and tried again, tuning everything else out except his racing heart. The next book blasted apart as well.
"Let's try something different. A lasso spell is equally useful, although you didn't mark it."
"I know that one already," Harry explained.
Snape looked him over and hovered yet another book into place. "Let's see it."
With a deep, calming breath Harry cast a hover spell to lift the book, then two spell loops around the book while maintaining the hover. They had worked on this a lot in DA mostly because it had become a competition to see who could lasso the most times before dropping the object. Harry cast five more loops around the book, careful to space them evenly. The spell was becoming unstable, the almanac wavering in the air. Biting his lip, he jerked his wand back. Green light flared from the loops and the book fell and peeled into fourteen neat wedges of binding and pages. They clunked onto the pillar and floor as the triangles of paper fluttered after.
Snape looked at him. "Not bad, Mr. Potter. If you can do that you can certainly manage the cutting spell. But let's move onto the fire spell you noted last."
They spent the late afternoon and evening working on spells. It took over an hour of Snape keeping his distance for Harry to finally relax and concentrate fully on the impromptu lesson. Otherwise, he was in heaven. Normally he, Hermione and Neville had to figure out the spells themselves and teach the others. Seeing a spell in the book and just having it taught to him was unthinkably easy.
"Too bad we didn't start this sooner," Harry said as he flipped through another book of defense spells while Snape flipped through the compendium. He turned his book towards Snape and pointed at a deafness spell.
"You seem to have a penchant for less elaborate spells," Snape commented.
"They are quicker to cast," Harry said.
Snape paused and studied him. "We can do that one if you wish."
Eventually, Snape called a halt to the session after Harry yawned for the third time in as many minutes.
"It is only nine, though," Harry complained.
"That means we have been at this for five hours without a break."
"Oh, sorry," Harry dropped his eyes.
"I do not mind teaching you, Potter. This is the job I wanted, remember? This review has certainly been useful to me--do not apologize."
Harry trudged up to his room, changed, and settled into bed. He was exhausted enough to not think too much and fell asleep as soon as the covers warmed up.
Notes I rearranged the chapter breaks so we are still just on one version. I think restrictedsection.org is going to be it, though, after looking around at the options way too long today.
To Xikum, well, I'll try to live up to this level of analysis as the story goes on.
To Nadezhda, yes the perrenial challenge and one has to fall back as I have on leaving a bit of mystery about what is actually going on in Snape's head. He does explain much much later what he is thinking in this chapter.
To cleopatra2070, I'm not apologizing for my geeky attempts at poetic license. To the other, it is standard American usage to not pluralize an uncountable noun when it becomes an adjective. We say "goat cheese" for example where "goat" is a class of thing or kind of thing. "Goats cheese" makes zero sense to me since the goats cannot normally be individually identified later as that implies. Or, and this is a real stretch, that somehow five different breeds of goat were involved and for some reason that is culinarily important to point out. "Goat's cheese" would make some sense at least but that isn't what's going on there even though that's what I think when I hear it rather than read it. I can easily say "the government are" and even pretend that "pavement" is something more specific than it sounds, but the plural noun adjective thing I just cannot do. If you can hang on through the few times it will come up, I think it will be worth your while, but if not, I understand.
On another note, I can't find the guidelines for what is even allowed at an R rating. Anyone have good source, it would be greatly appreciated.
Leftover soup filled in for lunch, then Harry decided maybe to change out of his borrowed clothes since his had probably been returned. Harry had managed to find out that the house-elf's name was Esme and that she kept very much to herself. He was more than willing to believe that, not having caught even a glimpse of her.
Up in his room, Harry hung the robe back up as well as the borrowed nightshirt. His things lay neatly over the chair; his shirt whiter and better pressed than it had ever been. Aunt Petunia would have forsaken her hatred of magic if she had known about house-elves, Harry was certain.
As he pulled his own robe over his clothes, Harry thought again about the cat figurine in the housecoat. He took it out and looked it over, realizing now what it was--it was a toy from a Christmas cracker. It was Christmas Eve today, he thought with some shock as he rubbed his thumb over the seam running along the length of the trinket. After putting the figure back in the left-hand pocket and shutting the wardrobe, Harry went and sat on the overstuffed chair near the window and stared out at the snow, a grey blanket beneath thick grey clouds.
With great care, Harry relived as much of last Christmas as he could remember, filling in where he couldn't precisely. He rested his damp eyes on his sleeve and sat unmoving for over an hour, until he sensed someone behind him, in the doorway. Hoping it was Esme was far too optimistic. Harry swallowed hard and lifted his head but didn't turn around.
Snape's voice was level as he said, "I realize that this is probably not your preferred way to spend Christmas."
Harry thought about gifts of Vernon's old socks and Dudley's massive undershirts. He thought about never seeing Sirius again. "I don't care about Christmas," Harry said evenly, still staring out the window.
After a pause, Snape said, "Neither do I, Potter." Harry heard his footsteps fade as he departed.
An hour later, feeling caged, Harry returned to the library. "Is it all right if I take a walk around outside?"
Snape didn't look up as he said, "As long as you do not approach the fence--the spells around the property are designed to be terribly close to fatal."
Harry collected his cloak from the kitchen and headed outside. The air bit more sharply than he thought it would, making it hard to breathe. He walked around the lee side of the house out of the wind and slowed down to study the landscape. A few old trees surrounded by brush made up the clearing beyond the fence. Dense young forest rose up beyond that, shielding the view, even in winter. Harry started up the hill behind the house. If there were gardens laid out, they were buried too deep in snow to see. The property extended a good distance in the back, far enough for him to work up a sweat climbing the hill in the snow.
Halfway up, the grass grew longer and stuck out of the undulating white in random brown tufts. The unevenness made the going slower, but by this time, Harry was enjoying this little freedom too much to turn back. The rise levelled off and a flat mown area, surrounded by its own fence, came into view with a lone tombstone. The two Snapes chiseled on it must be his professor's parents. Harry thought back to the worst of his Occlumency lessons. The very brief glimpses he had gotten of Snape's memories did not resemble this house. They must have moved here later. The first ones to do so. The dates of death were buried in snow and Harry didn't feel like intruding to read them. He walked on instead.
At the back fence, Harry could just see over the top of the rise and out over the hills. In the distance a small town sat between the hillocks. Sunlight stabbed through the clouds here and there making him imagine that somewhere other people were enjoying themselves without a care while here he stood with this weight of responsibility too large to carry.
He thought back to his fight with Voldemort in the graveyard. It occurred to him that not knowing he was supposed to vanquish the Dark Lord probably saved his life. Surviving was all Harry could have managed and he might have been unwise enough to have tried to end it there instead.
After his toes went numb, Harry turned and slowly walked back to the house. Snape hadn't moved from the writing desk. Harry searched the bookshelf again. This time Spells of War looked more interesting than it had previously. He settled into the chair with it, lighting the nearby lamp to see better.
If Binn's History of Magic lessons included this stuff, Harry would be getting a much better grade. The book was full of gruesome battle scenes where complicated, multi-wizard spells were used to take down attacking giants, giant spiders, and conjured battle monsters. He didn't look up from the book until the writing desk drawer snapped closed.
"There is some cold joint if you are hungry," Snape said offhandedly.
Harry was definitely so, his cold walk assured that, but he had not noticed until asked. He set the book down on the small table that held the lamp and followed his host down to the kitchen.
They ate cold roast mutton so tender it fell apart as Harry wrapped his bread around it. When he sat back after filling up, he almost asked if there had been a message. He decided not to test Snape's patience and to trust what he had said earlier.
"Can I use the bath?" Harry asked instead.
Snape spelled more wood onto the embers of the hearth fire. "Give it a half hour or so to heat."
Harry took his time collecting the nightshirt and housecoat. Back down in the bathroom he found towels and soap in a carved stone alcove around the corner from the door. He wondered, not for the first time, how Esme kept everything so organized without ever being visible.
Harry discovered a feature of this Roman era bath that even his Aunt Petunia's shiny modern porcelain one could not hold up to: no waiting. It took less than twenty seconds for the bath to fill with steaming water once the sluice was opened. As he unhooked the cord holding the block open, he could hear another one move in the wall and water running into the cistern to refill it. As he settled into the marvelously hot water, he decided he would stop making fun of the ancient plumbing.
Clean and very relaxed, Harry dressed in the nightshirt and robe, respelled again to shorten it, and returned to the library since he was still alert despite being relaxed. He realized as he settled into the same chair with his feet tucked under him that he carried the aura of Lavender with him now from the soap. It wasn't a smell he was used to and it made him worry more starkly what exactly was going on back at Hogsmeade and the school. Rubbing his temple to distract himself he buried his mind in the book again with an obsessive thirst for anything that might help him later.
Snape stepped into the library just as Harry was rereading a section on disemboweling spells. "It is getting late," he stated simply.
"Is it?" Harry asked, surprised.
Matter-of-factly, Snape said, "I expect to get a message in the early morning, but that is of course, conjecture."
Harry closed the book and stood up with it. He stretched his neck and put the book back on the shelf just as the clock in the hall chimed twelve. Harry stood with his hand on the shelf a moment, listening. When it stopped, he turned to Snape. Neither of them spoke as Harry stepped passed him and headed for the stairs.
#########
The next morning Harry awoke with the grey daylight. Eager to find out if they had been called back, he tossed on the robe and only remembered to respell it after he tripped on the hem on the way out of the room. As he headed for the stairs, Snape stepped out of the room on the end. He met Harry's gaze and gave him a small shake of the head. Harry deflated and frowned. "How long do we wait?" he asked.
"As long as it takes. You may not understand obeying authority, Potter, but it is essential for the Order. Otherwise we would be all dead," he replied.
Harry's brow furrowed as he wondered if Snape meant something more by that. His suspicious look didn't fade as his teacher approached along the balcony.
"Is it possible to have a normal breakfast this morning, Potter?" Snape went on in one of his typical tones. Harry flinched slightly and looked away. Quietly, Snape said, "I should not have said that. Let's try it again." He started down the steps. "Come, Mr. Potter," he said in a much gentler voice, "let's get you some breakfast."
Still stinging, Harry followed. In the kitchen, he sat in the same place and stared at the rough-grained tabletop while preparation was underway. Eventually, two plates with identical servings of beans, toast, and egg were placed on the table. Harry noticed that Snape had cottoned on to everything that had struck him the day before. He hoped he was not always so transparent.
Harry piled the beans onto his toast and said, "I'm not trying to find out anything I'm not supposed to know, but it is Dumbledore who initiates this message, right?"
"Yes."
"What if . . . he's not available to do it? Who would send it then?"
After a silence, Harry looked up. It appeared that Snape had been avoiding this line of thinking. "McGonagall, I would suppose."
"Does she know how?" he asked, hoping that wasn't a stupid question. Snape shook his head faintly and Harry went on, "It would take her some time to figure out how, right?"
"A few days, I would presume."
Harry pushed some of the overflowing beans off his now soggy toast. "I don't think that's what's going on."
"No?" Snape asked sarcastically. "And why is that?"
He thought for a while back over the last few days. "If . . . the Dark Lord managed that, he would be pretty ecstatic. I'd have felt that."
Snape studied him closely before returning in silence to his own breakfast. Eventually he poured coffee for them both and put his plate aside. Harry still pushed his remaining beans around although he had eaten his toast and egg.
"How long will you wait?" Harry asked again.
His teacher took a deep breath. "It is going to become somewhat problematic in a week as I have other . . . things I must attend to."
"And school isn't one of them?" Harry asked, since Hogwarts restarted in three more days.
"Not without a signal it isn't."
For a moment, Harry could not breath. To cover, he picked up his plate and took it to the sink. Visions flitted through his mind of much more elaborate destruction than he had imagined previously. It made him dizzy. Snape interrupted his dark musings with a, "Come and drink your coffee, Potter." As Harry sat down and stared into his cup, Snape said, "Let me know if you do feel anything from the Dark Lord. Please."
Harry looked up in surprise. "You must really be worried if you are being that polite," he commented, then couldn't stop the corner of his mouth curling up. He expected an annoyed look in return but instead received a tolerant raised brow. Harry shook his head at the notion that they now understood each other this well. "I'll let you know," he said. "It hasn't happened much this year."
"That is something, anyway." Snape took a sip from his cup and then cradled it in his hands. "I will confess to you that I am concerned. I expected overnight at the longest. I cannot come up with an explanation for this delay." He stood up and refilled their cups from the small pot before returning to his seat. "At the risk of bringing up bad memories for you, I wonder if you would satisfy my curiosity." At Harry's shrug, he went on. "I have been contemplating this rather remarkable notion of Harry Potter not knowing there is such a thing as magic." Harry dropped his gaze and stared into his teacup full of coffee. "I am curious what kind of spells you were casting. They clearly were powerful enough to alert your relatives."
"Why do you want to know?" Harry asked.
"Early spells are very indicative of a wizard's latent power."
Harry's face twisted in thought. "I'll tell you that if you'll show me some of the spells I found in a book upstairs."
"It depends upon which spell, but in theory I'll agree to that. We have nothing else to do today."
Yeah, it's only Christmas, Harry thought wryly. He took a careful sip of his reheated coffee and thought a minute. "The earliest thing I remember was my Uncle Vernon not being able to hold onto me when he had grabbed me for something Dudley had actually done, but blamed me for, a broken lamp or something. That happened a bunch of times." He looked at his Professor for a reaction.
"Auto-repelling charms are a very common early magic."
"The one that startled me the most was one day at school Dudley and his friends were chasing me and somehow I ended up on the roof when I was hiding behind the rubbish bins."
"You Apparated," Snape commented and sipped his coffee.
"Yeah, I guess I did," Harry said a little proudly. "I hadn't thought about it that way." He paused again. "Then there was the time I did something to the car. We were driving to Dudley's birthday party at a restaurant and I was really angry because I never got anything on my birthday. The car just stopped and my aunt made my Uncle Vernon look under the hood, which was kind of stupid since he doesn't know anything about them. I don't know what actually happened to the engine but he was really, really furious."
Harry fell thoughtfully quiet. That was the time they didn't feed him for a week although it fell short by a few days. He remembered now waking up in his cupboard with his aunt giving him ginger ale. During his punishment, the smell of bacon as he had prepared breakfast every morning had made him nearly psychotic with hunger. He shook himself. "It must have been a transfiguration because the mechanic who towed the car later said there was nothing wrong with it. So the spell wore off after a while."
Harry was warmed up to this topic now. "It was getting more common just before my letters from Hogwarts."
"Letters?" Snape asked. "How many did you need?"
"Thousands. Only it wasn't me who needed them--it was my aunt and uncle." Harry grinned at the memory now, knowing Dumbledore had sent them all. "On another birthday trip for Dudley at the zoo, he was teasing one of the snakes when the glass just disappeared." Harry grinned again and reached for the sugar to sweeten his coffee more. "That worked out; the snake wanted to see Brazil anyway."
Snape shook his head lightly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How long of a conversation did you have with this snake?"
"A few minutes. I was a very nice snake--it thanked me on the way out." At his professor's look, Harry added, "Hey, talking to snakes doesn't seem as strange as flying on a broomstick."
"To you."
"To me," Harry admitted.
Snape stood. "Go up to the library and look up the spells you wish to learn in the compendium, which is on the bottom right shelf. I have to take care of a few things."
Harry jumped up eagerly and went out. He laid books out on the pull out shelves beneath the upper part of the floor to ceiling shelving. As he studied them, he tapped his wand on the wood nervously. Eventually, Snape stepped up behind him and read over his shoulder. He reached out and flipped the book cover to look at the title, Spells of War. After a long pause, his professor said, "You do not wish to leave such things to others?"
Harry turned to him, finding him much closer than expected. He didn't have a response to that and Snape's sharp eyes seemed to read his expression much too well. Scrambling for a distraction, Harry said, "That didn't work last time, did it?"
Snape sighed. "No," he admitted. He flipped the book back open where he had marked the place with his finger and picked it up. "This requires at least six wizards."
"It looks useful though," Harry said. It was a trapping spell that could capture over twenty people or creatures.
"It is a short-lived spell." Snape closed the book and set it down. "Let me think about what I could show you that may be more useful to you."
Harry gave him a pained look before he could hide it. I need to destroy the Dark Lord, he wanted to say. Show me how to do that. He watched in silence as his professor paged through the compendium thoughtfully, watched as Snape bit his lip and for a moment stared unseeing at a page about gnome repelling.
"Why don't you go outside for some fresh air, Potter. You could probably use it."
Harry hesitated in surprise then shrugged and with just one backward glance, left the room to go change into his clothes.
Taking his time, Harry followed his previous tracks around the property, diverging sometimes to step closer to the fence, Close enough that he could feel the protective spells as they made his skin inch. He startled a rabbit and it hopped in a mad, darting escape path. For a moment, Harry feared it would run headlong into the barrier, but it veered off as though it too could feel it. It stopped in the sparse grass and sat still as though it were now invisible.
The cold finally cut short Harry's slow tour of the property. He returned and went back to the now empty library. He picked up the compendium and found a scrap parchment and pen and began noting which spells he thought looked useful.
After he had paged through the first third of the massive volume, Harry's nose picked up something that made his stomach growl ferociously. He closed the large book, using his scrap as a bookmark and walked down to the kitchen. "A goose," he said in surprise when he saw the quickly browning bird turning slowly on a charmed rotisserie.
Snape looked up from what might have been a cookbook. "I had Esme pick it up since she was making a trip for groceries anyway."
Harry blinked at that. He had forgotten about the house-elf. "It smells wonderful," Harry observed to cover his lapse.
"It will take over two hours before it is done," his teacher said. When Harry stepped over to look at the book he had out, Snape stepped away suddenly and opened the pantry and began taking out onions. Harry mulled over that a moment and then looked at the open page. He could only pick out a few words. The handwriting was neat but the upstrokes long and flourished and the letters themselves very small. If he hadn't known it was a recipe for roasting fowl he probably would not have been able to read any of it.
Feeling a little put out, Harry headed back up to the library and returned to the compendium. The scent distracted him almost constantly as lunchtime came and went. He felt as though he hadn't eaten in days rather than having just had a full breakfast this morning. The delicious scent tormented him until Snape came up and told him it was ready. Harry followed him down, this time to the dining room, followed in a faint trail of Lavender.
"I thought we could try to be a bit more civilized," Snape commented.
Harry took a seat at one of the two place settings and looked around the room. Deep blue sashes framed the windows. They matched the worn velvet of the chairs. Harry looked expectantly at Snape, whose hair looked a little damp, which explained the underlying scent. Snape wanded the Goose to the platter awaiting it. Harry swallowed a mouthful of saliva at the sight of the crispy sizzling meat. A quick spell rendered the perfect brown bird into servings. Harry reached out for a leg and then served himself potatoes and vegetables. Heady, scented steam rose from the piece on his plate as he stared at it.
"Go ahead, Potter," Snape said.
The vegetables were ordinary but the goose was heavenly. Harry consumed three servings of meat and sat back with a groan. "Did you enjoy it?" Snape asked.
Harry sat up with a start. "Sorry," he apologized for forgetting his manners. "It was delicious. Too delicious." He gingerly rubbed his stomach and leaned back to ease the ache there.
Snape put his serviette beside his plate, stood up and went to the sideboard. He opened a dark bottle of something. The cork made a dull popping noise like the sound some wizards made when apparating, the ones that managed to do it quietly. After pouring out two small glasses, he brought them back and placed one before Harry. "That will make your stomach feel a little better." He sat back down and as Harry reached for the glass, which resembled a small wine glass, Snape said, "Ah, just a moment." He took out his wand and tapped Harry's glass. "Go ahead now."
When Harry picked it up, it was pleasantly warm. He sniffed it and nearly choked on the fumes. "What is it?"
Snape sipped his own heated glass. "Brandy."
"Oh," Harry said. It was a trick to sip without breathing, but he managed by taking a deep breath first. A path burned down to his stomach after he swallowed, but it did ease the straining ache there.
They drank in silence, the grey daylight faded from the tall windows and the wind picked up, chilling the room. "Did you find some other spells you wished to learn?" Snape finally asked when Harry had finished the last of his dark liquid.
"Yes," Harry replied, turning the small glass around in his fingers. He felt conflictingly heavy and light at the same time.
"Why don't you go back to the library were there is a fire," Snape said as he stood and wanded the remains of the bird back to the kitchen. "I will join you in a few minutes."
Harry put the small glass down, a little clumsily, and stood up. With more attention to his feet than normal, he stepped across the hall and opened the compendium again.
Harry caught himself tapping the black quill feather on the shelf as he read and forced himself to stop as it was a really nice one. He flipped forward a few pages, looking for interesting illustrations. The spells were coded for usefulness and indexed by it, but Harry didn't like the codings. Sometimes common spells were more useful than elaborate ones, especially in a panic when one didn't have time to do any lengthy conjuring.
He didn't hear Snape approach, but a waft of Lavender made Harry turn his head to find his professor directly beside him again, reading over his shoulder. Harry handed him the parchment scrap with his list. Snape read it and set it down on the shelf above the book.
Harry flipped the page. "Any of those look useful to you?" he asked.
"A few of them," Snape replied. His voice sounded off to Harry, lower.
A spell for lassoing fire and moving it caught his eye. Harry reached for the parchment and quill.
"What would you use that for?" Snape asked, curious.
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Just looks interesting." He jotted it down and turned the page and continued perusing. With his professor looking over his shoulder, Harry read the next few pages. There was a lot of the book still to go and he thought maybe he should stop looking at the end of that section. He frowned in stress at the many pages of spells he couldn't possibly find the time to learn. Panic weaseled its way into Harry's chest, choking off his breath. There was no chance of fulfilling the prophecy--he was going to let everyone down, forced to watch everyone die while it happened.
Harry's quill-laden hand fell on the next open page with a thud as dry fingertips touched his temple at his glasses and traced down his cheek. The gesture utterly undid his thoughts. He wondered if this were what an Imperio felt like, because he couldn't move, even when the fingers slowly combed up through his hair and pulled his head over. He drew in a hard breath as Snape slid his other arm around him and closed the space between them. The quill fell to the floor, unnoticed, as his face pressed into the dark blue plush of Snape's robe. Harry's heart pattered wildly in his chest as Snape lifted his glasses off and set them on a nearby shelf. Long fingers combed through his hair again before he was wrapped up and pulled tighter.
They stood that way for a long time, until Harry's heartbeat and breathing slowed to something akin to normal. No one had held him that way before. Dudley received all of the affection available from Aunt Petunia and other than momentary hugs from Mrs. Weasley, adults never even tried to get this close to him.
Harry floated. Someone else had responsibility for everything at that moment and the brandy now reinforced that by making his head spin when he tried to worry about anything. Snape's hand rubbed his back slowly down and up, drawing out the last of his resistance. Harry grabbed hold of the thick robe as Snape's arms loosened, shifted up past his shoulders and carefully tilted his head back. His breath quickened again as he took in his teacher's piercing dark eyes.
Frozen still, Harry wondered if maybe he had been put under an Imperius Curse. Why else hadn't he pushed away or expressed what really should be dismay. He was unable to move because some part of him was as hungry for this as his stomach had been an hour ago for the Christmas goose, only he hadn't recognized it.
As Snape's dark eyes search his face; his fingers traced his brow. Harry had never seen a look like that; it startled him. Snape's intense gaze made him look as though he thought Harry to be the most precious thing he had ever seen. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, why his teacher had suddenly pulled him so close, but he didn't get a chance to give voice to his questions as Snape's mouth covered his.
Harry realized immediately that he had no clue what kissing really entailed. Soft lips moved over his own still ones hungrily, nipping and sucking lightly. He made a small sound and Snape pulled up and stared at him. His professor's shoulders dropped as he said, "You truly are innocent, aren't you, Potter?"
"What?" Harry asked. He didn't like the sound of that word; rebelled against it even.
Snape let him go and picked up the compendium and walked to the desk. "Let's go over a few of these, shall we," he said in a completely normal voice.
Harry stood by the bookshelf and gaped at him. Chills were still roaming up and down Harry's arms. He watched, stunned as Snape moved a sculpture off its stone pillar then shifted the pillar in front of an empty stone wall. "Potter?" Snape asked as though Harry were the one behaving oddly.
Harry shook himself and slowly walked over to his teacher as he flipped through the compendium to one of the spells. He pointed one out and Harry moved in a little closer than he felt comfortable to look at it. It was a cutting spell.
"Shall we try that one?" Snape asked conversationally.
Even this distance made Harry's skin prickle again. "Sure," Harry finally managed to reply.
Snape took up a book from the bottom shelf behind the desk. "Outdated almanacs. We will use these." He set it up on the pillar and stepped back.
"Periporta," Snape said and pointed his wand. A clean, very small hole burned its way through the book. As he put his wand down, he said, now in teacher mode, "The narrower the spell, the more power you will have to cut. Start by burning just a single spot, as you need to establish focus and aim before moving on." He stepped aside. "You try it."
Harry, still rattled and uncertain, stepped before the book. When he tried the spell, the book flew back from the pillar and smacked into the wall with a puff of smoke.
"Narrower than that, I should think," Snape commented and with an easy flick of the wand, put the book back on the pillar.
Harry repeated the spell, trying to establish focus. The best he could do was simply blast the book apart rather than knocking it off. He frowned in frustration.
"It takes a bit practice, Potter. Have some patience with yourself," Snape commented evenly in a totally un-Snape-like voice.
Gaping again, Harry blinked at his teacher a moment before realizing he must look stupid doing that. He rolled his shoulders a few times and tried again, tuning everything else out except his racing heart. The next book blasted apart as well.
"Let's try something different. A lasso spell is equally useful, although you didn't mark it."
"I know that one already," Harry explained.
Snape looked him over and hovered yet another book into place. "Let's see it."
With a deep, calming breath Harry cast a hover spell to lift the book, then two spell loops around the book while maintaining the hover. They had worked on this a lot in DA mostly because it had become a competition to see who could lasso the most times before dropping the object. Harry cast five more loops around the book, careful to space them evenly. The spell was becoming unstable, the almanac wavering in the air. Biting his lip, he jerked his wand back. Green light flared from the loops and the book fell and peeled into fourteen neat wedges of binding and pages. They clunked onto the pillar and floor as the triangles of paper fluttered after.
Snape looked at him. "Not bad, Mr. Potter. If you can do that you can certainly manage the cutting spell. But let's move onto the fire spell you noted last."
They spent the late afternoon and evening working on spells. It took over an hour of Snape keeping his distance for Harry to finally relax and concentrate fully on the impromptu lesson. Otherwise, he was in heaven. Normally he, Hermione and Neville had to figure out the spells themselves and teach the others. Seeing a spell in the book and just having it taught to him was unthinkably easy.
"Too bad we didn't start this sooner," Harry said as he flipped through another book of defense spells while Snape flipped through the compendium. He turned his book towards Snape and pointed at a deafness spell.
"You seem to have a penchant for less elaborate spells," Snape commented.
"They are quicker to cast," Harry said.
Snape paused and studied him. "We can do that one if you wish."
Eventually, Snape called a halt to the session after Harry yawned for the third time in as many minutes.
"It is only nine, though," Harry complained.
"That means we have been at this for five hours without a break."
"Oh, sorry," Harry dropped his eyes.
"I do not mind teaching you, Potter. This is the job I wanted, remember? This review has certainly been useful to me--do not apologize."
Harry trudged up to his room, changed, and settled into bed. He was exhausted enough to not think too much and fell asleep as soon as the covers warmed up.
Notes I rearranged the chapter breaks so we are still just on one version. I think restrictedsection.org is going to be it, though, after looking around at the options way too long today.
To Xikum, well, I'll try to live up to this level of analysis as the story goes on.
To Nadezhda, yes the perrenial challenge and one has to fall back as I have on leaving a bit of mystery about what is actually going on in Snape's head. He does explain much much later what he is thinking in this chapter.
To cleopatra2070, I'm not apologizing for my geeky attempts at poetic license. To the other, it is standard American usage to not pluralize an uncountable noun when it becomes an adjective. We say "goat cheese" for example where "goat" is a class of thing or kind of thing. "Goats cheese" makes zero sense to me since the goats cannot normally be individually identified later as that implies. Or, and this is a real stretch, that somehow five different breeds of goat were involved and for some reason that is culinarily important to point out. "Goat's cheese" would make some sense at least but that isn't what's going on there even though that's what I think when I hear it rather than read it. I can easily say "the government are" and even pretend that "pavement" is something more specific than it sounds, but the plural noun adjective thing I just cannot do. If you can hang on through the few times it will come up, I think it will be worth your while, but if not, I understand.
On another note, I can't find the guidelines for what is even allowed at an R rating. Anyone have good source, it would be greatly appreciated.