He struggled to get up out of the chair, but Snape was looming over him in
his most intimidating trademark bat manner. Harry coughed awkwardly 'Erm,
excuse me professor, I think I'll just - '
'Enough!' snapped Snape. 'Petrificus Totalus!'
Harry's body went stiff, the scowl frozen on his face. Snape snorted. Silence - at last! He'd been dying to do something like that to the annoying brat for years!
Pocketing his wand, he straightened up and turned his icy glare on Tonks. 'What in blasted hell has been going on in this place?' he hissed.
Tonks glared back. She certainly wasn't taking any rubbish off the old potions bat. 'Well we're hardly having a rave Severus,' she said haughtily. 'I just got here. But apparently YOU might know better from what I've heard. I'm here to check up on Harry. The poor guy sounded pretty stressed out. And then, surprise, he mentioned you!'
'I see.' Snape's eyes glittered menacingly. 'So - you decided to leave your post rather than inform others, Miss Tonks? I would have thought you'd have known better than to reveal your presence when on watch,' came his silky reply.
'Inform others?' she exclaimed. Tonks rose her eyebrows, crossed her arms and pouted. 'Well - SOMEONE else here still hasn't informed me yet on how he's managed to upset a kid so much to make him desperate enough to shout out the window at nearly three in the morning!' she rushed out all in one angry breath. She drew her wand and flicked it at Harry. 'Finite Incantatem!'
Harry unfroze, and looked at the arguing adults with widening eyes. Just as well Tonks was on one side of the sofa, and Snape the other. He would have to endure being sprayed with spit though - he was too tipsy this time to be very effective at managing yet another Black and Snape family peacekeeping effort.
He did feel like cheering Tonks on though, but was scared to death about attracting Snape's attention.
It was bad enough trying to keep that scroll out of Snape's clutches earlier. What would the professor do when he paused to examine the contents of the small plastic bag clutched between his pale fingers?
Snape began to flare red. 'How DARE you override my spell!'
Tonks rolled her eyes. 'Oh, take a chill pill old man,' she drawled. 'Term time - holiday time - morning, noon, night, you're always the same. Can't you give it a break?'
Harry watched as Snape took the cheeky witch's bait and launched into another tirade of angry hissing. He sighed, if there really was 'no rest for the wicked,' he must have done something really monstrous in a past life to deserve a birthday like this!
What he needed was a distraction.
He tried to block out the standoff going on over his head and consider his options. Well, he had no wand, a woolly mouth from the alcohol, a dull pounding headache from his insomnia, and his eyes still felt weird from earlier.
And no alcohol. Brilliant.
He could always try being violently sick on Snape's boots. The room certainly was going round a bit more than it usually did, and it wouldn't exactly be hard to make himself feel queasy.
In fact - after all that had happened he was surprised he didn't feel worse. Maybe he was immune to having a crap life?
'I have no inclination and no need to explain what I am doing in this house - unlike you,' remarked Snape coolly, crossing his arms. 'However, while I am acting on the Headmaster's orders, you are insolently disobeying them.'
Tonks scowled. The git had found the weak point in her argument and swooped in for the kill. How she would just love to slap that smug face!
'And- you'll find I also have little to do with Potter's so-called 'stress,' continued the smooth tone, sensing victory was near. 'I believe there is a plethora of similar slang words to more accurately describe Potter's problem. A problem which I was sent here to take care of. Now, unless you also have a phial of sobriety potion on your person, I suggest you stand aside.'
The young witch fumed. Where and when had she lost the argument?
Harry flinched as a small yellow phial was promptly thrust in front of his nose.
'Drink it.'
Sulkily Harry took hold of the potion and uncorked it. Sober? He hadn't been sober in four days! How would he cope? He looked dazedly up at Snape, who glared back.
'Bottoms up,' he mumbled to himself, before downing it in one. He coughed and spluttered, before pulling a face.
Snape smirked. 'Did you identify the dominant ingredient Potter?'
'Something disgusting?'
'Perhaps. We covered this potion in year two. Basic, simple ingredients. But then again, it would depend on whether you were actually paying any attention.'
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 'What was it then?'
Snape raised an impatient eyebrow. 'Why don't you look it up? It's not my job to teach you anything out of lesson hours.'
Tonks glared at Snape. Harry glared at Snape. Snape smirked at them both.
Harry felt the potion taking effect. Oh, Merlin, the morning after feeling now. Coupled with the worst headache he'd had in weeks. And Snape of all people standing malignantly over him.
He groaned.
'Pleasant hangover, Potter?' came the slap-deserving tone.
Holding his head, Harry managed after several clumsy tries to get up from the sofa. Of course Snape wouldn't give him a hangover cure as well - his head felt as if he'd been banging his head against a wall for hours. Thank Merlin for the aspirins in the kitchen cupboard.
As he began to cross the room, Snape moved as if to stop him.
'Do you honestly want me to puke on you?' snapped Harry irritably.
Well, that remark had the git moving.
Harry opened the cupboard and squinted into the tray of medicines, almost blinded by the kitchen strip light. Finding what he needed he slouched across to the sink with a glass.
As he listened to the tablets fizz while they dissolved, his mind wandered back to his aunt and cousin. Surely they can't have slept through that argument? Swirling the glass of water around he edged toward the door. From here he could just see an angry looking Tonks, her mouth was moving - but he couldn't hear her voice.
Ah, the room probably had a silencing charm on it! Harry breathed a small sigh of relief. It was bad enough having Snape yelling at you, but thankfully that charm had saved him from encountering the wrath of a twice woken up Aunt Petunia as well.
There was no need to worry about Dudley. Two spliffs later and an atom bomb wouldn't wake him up.
Oh Merlin - the weed. Oh, he was dead. A potions teacher, and substance expert, no less, had hold of it. At the very least Snape would transfigure him into a cauldron and use him to brew the vile and putrescent Stinksap wart remedy. (Well, that was just an old rumour started by the Slytherins to terrify the first years. But as the rumour was about Snape - who knows?)
Well, he could really do without any lecture on long-term mental health problems from a person who probably had long-term mental health problems thank you very much.
Harry's gaze returned to the glass in his hand. The water was now a pale cloudy grey. Harry sipped at it, grimacing at the taste. Stone cold sober, barely four hours into his birthday. All he had been trying to forget suddenly seeming so much more serious.
The prophecy. Sirius, Voldemort, the dreams, Snape, the scroll, the talisman, the change, Dumbledore.
Sirius.
Harry grimaced, his hand tightening around the glass. The full miserable reality of it all threatened to sweep over him again. But all the early rage was long gone, drained away into a depression. Now there was a wall of silence all around. Everything outside it didn't matter.
If this was how coping should be, he would rather not do it.
He leant back against the wall and slowly slid down it until he was crouched on the floor. There would be no need for any kind of fight, he would just stay here - in this kitchen. Watch the ants crawl in through the crack in the tile and wander about the floor picking up crumbs, day by day.
Snape would come in and shout - but why would it matter? He would be content sitting here. The Dursleys didn't bother him now, after all. He would write a note to the order every few days, to tell them he was fine. Feed Hedwig. Ask Dudley to get more supplies. They could chill then, listen to music.
The peace was swiftly intruded upon by the swish of black robes and the quiet step of black dragon hide boots. The boots strode purposefully across the kitchen floor and came to an abrupt halt barely an inch away from his bare toes, and a mere half inch away from the scuttling ant Harry had been tracking.
'Get up from the floor Potter and go to bed.'
Harry sighed absent mindedly. He watched as the ant put on a remarkable burst of speed, and begin to race around in little kamikaze circles, dangerously close to the professor's foot.
'Potter.' came the dangerously low whisper. A leather capped boot tip began to tap impatiently on the tiles.
Every muscle in his body felt so weak. He ached so much. His head, everything. The floor tiles were pleasantly cool. He could stay there till morning, or longer - hours, days. He didn't care.
But Snape did.
'Harry!'
Harry's head shot up, his eyes suddenly afire. 'What?!' he hissed, his eyes boring into the impatient black ones high above him. 'Leave me alone! All of you! I never asked for all this! Why can't everyone just - Ahhhh!'
As Harry's watch bleeped to announce 4am, a sensation like no other he'd ever felt shot through his entire body. It wasn't that painful at first - similar to the tingling he felt earlier. But after a few seconds the weird tingles stopped, and then came a sense that every muscle in his body was about to cramp. He gritted his teeth in grim anticipation.
And then it came. Harry's yell turned into a sharp gasp as his body stiffened, went into spasm, then stiffened again. It was worse than Cruciatus in its own way. Like the sudden horror of the cramp which woke you up in the night. But worse.
And all the while he couldn't help being oblivious as to what was happening around him.
*************************
Snape was almost at the end of his rather short fuse. He had managed to dismiss Tonks for the moment, but the meddlesome witch hadn't promised not to return soon. And now he was faced with a probable teenage alcoholic. Not that he hadn't dealt with one or two before.
But-
He held up the small plastic bag and sneered disdainfully. The contents were crude, compared to the wizard version, of course, but he could tell by the smell of it the stuff was brain-addlingly strong.
Indeed, if you were going to try the Muggle counterpart of the obliviation spell, why not do it properly?
Fuming, Snape swept into the kitchen to find the teenager hunched up on the floor, head bowed, an empty glass clutched in his hand.
He threw his most malicious glower down at him. Despite his form now casting an ominous great shadow right over where he was sat, the boy still did not move.
'Get up from the floor Potter [damn you] and go to bed.'
No movement. He tapped his toe in frustration. Time to try shock tactics.
'Harry!'
Snape smirked as the boy's head shot up, his eyes glittering with anger. That was more like the old Potter!
The boy began to rant. Snape opened his mouth to answer back, but was abruptly drowned out by a blood-curdling yell.
Snape took several steps backward, and stared wide eyed as Potter suddenly shot back to lay ramrod straight, his face screwing up into the most awful grimace.
Cruciatus? No - it couldn't be, he would be curled up, not stretched out.
A vision? He had heard staff members talk about how Potter had fallen off stools as the visions hit him. Snape had always put this over to traditional Potter attention-seeking ways. But that wasn't the issue now, was it?
But he didn't have to wait long to find out what was happening to the teenager. As the boy yelled again, he could see the problem for himself.
The boy's face was changing again, and worse, overriding the disguising spell he had cast earlier.
There was a sharp gasp from behind. Snape swung round and glared. Of course, he had quite forgotten the house had other inhabitants.
'S-Snape?' came the horrified whisper.
The addressed half arched an amused eyebrow. He knew this Muggle. Lily's sister.
'Ah, Toad Eater,' he smirked.
'Toad Eater,' let out a small shriek and fainted clean away.
Snape sneered at her, before turning back to find Potter had finally stopped struggling, and was now lying exhausted, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
He swallowed nervously. The change was much more defined this time, the boy's features sharper, his hair tamer. He shivered.
It was quite unmistakeable now.
Well, as the boy had been dumped on him so unceremoniously, he would have to finish off those Occlumency lessons - properly this time. No matter how much blood, sweat and hexes it took.
*********************
Harry groaned, It felt as if he had been given the bumps, but really viciously. Holding his breath momentarily he mustered up the strength to turn his head toward the door.
Why was Aunt Petunia lying in the hallway? He glanced up at Snape for answers, but instead only found even more questions to ask.
Why was Snape staring at him like that?
'Enough!' snapped Snape. 'Petrificus Totalus!'
Harry's body went stiff, the scowl frozen on his face. Snape snorted. Silence - at last! He'd been dying to do something like that to the annoying brat for years!
Pocketing his wand, he straightened up and turned his icy glare on Tonks. 'What in blasted hell has been going on in this place?' he hissed.
Tonks glared back. She certainly wasn't taking any rubbish off the old potions bat. 'Well we're hardly having a rave Severus,' she said haughtily. 'I just got here. But apparently YOU might know better from what I've heard. I'm here to check up on Harry. The poor guy sounded pretty stressed out. And then, surprise, he mentioned you!'
'I see.' Snape's eyes glittered menacingly. 'So - you decided to leave your post rather than inform others, Miss Tonks? I would have thought you'd have known better than to reveal your presence when on watch,' came his silky reply.
'Inform others?' she exclaimed. Tonks rose her eyebrows, crossed her arms and pouted. 'Well - SOMEONE else here still hasn't informed me yet on how he's managed to upset a kid so much to make him desperate enough to shout out the window at nearly three in the morning!' she rushed out all in one angry breath. She drew her wand and flicked it at Harry. 'Finite Incantatem!'
Harry unfroze, and looked at the arguing adults with widening eyes. Just as well Tonks was on one side of the sofa, and Snape the other. He would have to endure being sprayed with spit though - he was too tipsy this time to be very effective at managing yet another Black and Snape family peacekeeping effort.
He did feel like cheering Tonks on though, but was scared to death about attracting Snape's attention.
It was bad enough trying to keep that scroll out of Snape's clutches earlier. What would the professor do when he paused to examine the contents of the small plastic bag clutched between his pale fingers?
Snape began to flare red. 'How DARE you override my spell!'
Tonks rolled her eyes. 'Oh, take a chill pill old man,' she drawled. 'Term time - holiday time - morning, noon, night, you're always the same. Can't you give it a break?'
Harry watched as Snape took the cheeky witch's bait and launched into another tirade of angry hissing. He sighed, if there really was 'no rest for the wicked,' he must have done something really monstrous in a past life to deserve a birthday like this!
What he needed was a distraction.
He tried to block out the standoff going on over his head and consider his options. Well, he had no wand, a woolly mouth from the alcohol, a dull pounding headache from his insomnia, and his eyes still felt weird from earlier.
And no alcohol. Brilliant.
He could always try being violently sick on Snape's boots. The room certainly was going round a bit more than it usually did, and it wouldn't exactly be hard to make himself feel queasy.
In fact - after all that had happened he was surprised he didn't feel worse. Maybe he was immune to having a crap life?
'I have no inclination and no need to explain what I am doing in this house - unlike you,' remarked Snape coolly, crossing his arms. 'However, while I am acting on the Headmaster's orders, you are insolently disobeying them.'
Tonks scowled. The git had found the weak point in her argument and swooped in for the kill. How she would just love to slap that smug face!
'And- you'll find I also have little to do with Potter's so-called 'stress,' continued the smooth tone, sensing victory was near. 'I believe there is a plethora of similar slang words to more accurately describe Potter's problem. A problem which I was sent here to take care of. Now, unless you also have a phial of sobriety potion on your person, I suggest you stand aside.'
The young witch fumed. Where and when had she lost the argument?
Harry flinched as a small yellow phial was promptly thrust in front of his nose.
'Drink it.'
Sulkily Harry took hold of the potion and uncorked it. Sober? He hadn't been sober in four days! How would he cope? He looked dazedly up at Snape, who glared back.
'Bottoms up,' he mumbled to himself, before downing it in one. He coughed and spluttered, before pulling a face.
Snape smirked. 'Did you identify the dominant ingredient Potter?'
'Something disgusting?'
'Perhaps. We covered this potion in year two. Basic, simple ingredients. But then again, it would depend on whether you were actually paying any attention.'
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 'What was it then?'
Snape raised an impatient eyebrow. 'Why don't you look it up? It's not my job to teach you anything out of lesson hours.'
Tonks glared at Snape. Harry glared at Snape. Snape smirked at them both.
Harry felt the potion taking effect. Oh, Merlin, the morning after feeling now. Coupled with the worst headache he'd had in weeks. And Snape of all people standing malignantly over him.
He groaned.
'Pleasant hangover, Potter?' came the slap-deserving tone.
Holding his head, Harry managed after several clumsy tries to get up from the sofa. Of course Snape wouldn't give him a hangover cure as well - his head felt as if he'd been banging his head against a wall for hours. Thank Merlin for the aspirins in the kitchen cupboard.
As he began to cross the room, Snape moved as if to stop him.
'Do you honestly want me to puke on you?' snapped Harry irritably.
Well, that remark had the git moving.
Harry opened the cupboard and squinted into the tray of medicines, almost blinded by the kitchen strip light. Finding what he needed he slouched across to the sink with a glass.
As he listened to the tablets fizz while they dissolved, his mind wandered back to his aunt and cousin. Surely they can't have slept through that argument? Swirling the glass of water around he edged toward the door. From here he could just see an angry looking Tonks, her mouth was moving - but he couldn't hear her voice.
Ah, the room probably had a silencing charm on it! Harry breathed a small sigh of relief. It was bad enough having Snape yelling at you, but thankfully that charm had saved him from encountering the wrath of a twice woken up Aunt Petunia as well.
There was no need to worry about Dudley. Two spliffs later and an atom bomb wouldn't wake him up.
Oh Merlin - the weed. Oh, he was dead. A potions teacher, and substance expert, no less, had hold of it. At the very least Snape would transfigure him into a cauldron and use him to brew the vile and putrescent Stinksap wart remedy. (Well, that was just an old rumour started by the Slytherins to terrify the first years. But as the rumour was about Snape - who knows?)
Well, he could really do without any lecture on long-term mental health problems from a person who probably had long-term mental health problems thank you very much.
Harry's gaze returned to the glass in his hand. The water was now a pale cloudy grey. Harry sipped at it, grimacing at the taste. Stone cold sober, barely four hours into his birthday. All he had been trying to forget suddenly seeming so much more serious.
The prophecy. Sirius, Voldemort, the dreams, Snape, the scroll, the talisman, the change, Dumbledore.
Sirius.
Harry grimaced, his hand tightening around the glass. The full miserable reality of it all threatened to sweep over him again. But all the early rage was long gone, drained away into a depression. Now there was a wall of silence all around. Everything outside it didn't matter.
If this was how coping should be, he would rather not do it.
He leant back against the wall and slowly slid down it until he was crouched on the floor. There would be no need for any kind of fight, he would just stay here - in this kitchen. Watch the ants crawl in through the crack in the tile and wander about the floor picking up crumbs, day by day.
Snape would come in and shout - but why would it matter? He would be content sitting here. The Dursleys didn't bother him now, after all. He would write a note to the order every few days, to tell them he was fine. Feed Hedwig. Ask Dudley to get more supplies. They could chill then, listen to music.
The peace was swiftly intruded upon by the swish of black robes and the quiet step of black dragon hide boots. The boots strode purposefully across the kitchen floor and came to an abrupt halt barely an inch away from his bare toes, and a mere half inch away from the scuttling ant Harry had been tracking.
'Get up from the floor Potter and go to bed.'
Harry sighed absent mindedly. He watched as the ant put on a remarkable burst of speed, and begin to race around in little kamikaze circles, dangerously close to the professor's foot.
'Potter.' came the dangerously low whisper. A leather capped boot tip began to tap impatiently on the tiles.
Every muscle in his body felt so weak. He ached so much. His head, everything. The floor tiles were pleasantly cool. He could stay there till morning, or longer - hours, days. He didn't care.
But Snape did.
'Harry!'
Harry's head shot up, his eyes suddenly afire. 'What?!' he hissed, his eyes boring into the impatient black ones high above him. 'Leave me alone! All of you! I never asked for all this! Why can't everyone just - Ahhhh!'
As Harry's watch bleeped to announce 4am, a sensation like no other he'd ever felt shot through his entire body. It wasn't that painful at first - similar to the tingling he felt earlier. But after a few seconds the weird tingles stopped, and then came a sense that every muscle in his body was about to cramp. He gritted his teeth in grim anticipation.
And then it came. Harry's yell turned into a sharp gasp as his body stiffened, went into spasm, then stiffened again. It was worse than Cruciatus in its own way. Like the sudden horror of the cramp which woke you up in the night. But worse.
And all the while he couldn't help being oblivious as to what was happening around him.
*************************
Snape was almost at the end of his rather short fuse. He had managed to dismiss Tonks for the moment, but the meddlesome witch hadn't promised not to return soon. And now he was faced with a probable teenage alcoholic. Not that he hadn't dealt with one or two before.
But-
He held up the small plastic bag and sneered disdainfully. The contents were crude, compared to the wizard version, of course, but he could tell by the smell of it the stuff was brain-addlingly strong.
Indeed, if you were going to try the Muggle counterpart of the obliviation spell, why not do it properly?
Fuming, Snape swept into the kitchen to find the teenager hunched up on the floor, head bowed, an empty glass clutched in his hand.
He threw his most malicious glower down at him. Despite his form now casting an ominous great shadow right over where he was sat, the boy still did not move.
'Get up from the floor Potter [damn you] and go to bed.'
No movement. He tapped his toe in frustration. Time to try shock tactics.
'Harry!'
Snape smirked as the boy's head shot up, his eyes glittering with anger. That was more like the old Potter!
The boy began to rant. Snape opened his mouth to answer back, but was abruptly drowned out by a blood-curdling yell.
Snape took several steps backward, and stared wide eyed as Potter suddenly shot back to lay ramrod straight, his face screwing up into the most awful grimace.
Cruciatus? No - it couldn't be, he would be curled up, not stretched out.
A vision? He had heard staff members talk about how Potter had fallen off stools as the visions hit him. Snape had always put this over to traditional Potter attention-seeking ways. But that wasn't the issue now, was it?
But he didn't have to wait long to find out what was happening to the teenager. As the boy yelled again, he could see the problem for himself.
The boy's face was changing again, and worse, overriding the disguising spell he had cast earlier.
There was a sharp gasp from behind. Snape swung round and glared. Of course, he had quite forgotten the house had other inhabitants.
'S-Snape?' came the horrified whisper.
The addressed half arched an amused eyebrow. He knew this Muggle. Lily's sister.
'Ah, Toad Eater,' he smirked.
'Toad Eater,' let out a small shriek and fainted clean away.
Snape sneered at her, before turning back to find Potter had finally stopped struggling, and was now lying exhausted, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
He swallowed nervously. The change was much more defined this time, the boy's features sharper, his hair tamer. He shivered.
It was quite unmistakeable now.
Well, as the boy had been dumped on him so unceremoniously, he would have to finish off those Occlumency lessons - properly this time. No matter how much blood, sweat and hexes it took.
*********************
Harry groaned, It felt as if he had been given the bumps, but really viciously. Holding his breath momentarily he mustered up the strength to turn his head toward the door.
Why was Aunt Petunia lying in the hallway? He glanced up at Snape for answers, but instead only found even more questions to ask.
Why was Snape staring at him like that?