Harry mumbled faintly. He was enjoying a beautiful long sleep. He did not want to wake up.
"Potter!"
Reluctantly, Harry opened an eye. He blinked in surprise. Without his glasses, the world was rather blurry, but he was quite capable of realizing this was not Gryffindor tower.
Snape's voice. Snape's chambers.
Harry hauled himself upright on the couch and peered fuzzily around.
"Where – "
"Here," Snape drawled. Harry felt the wire frames of his glasses pushed into his hands. He put them on, and tried to focus his bleary eyes.
"How – " He recalled Snape coming upon him as he sat on the dungeon steps, and drinking cocoa. That was his last memory of the previous evening.
"You fell asleep. Now, however, it is time for you to return to Gryffindor tower. Hopefully, before any of your dormitory companions awake and realize you have been gone."
"Oh." Harry blushed slightly. It had suddenly occurred to him what sort of construction might be put upon him apparently sneaking off to spend the night in Snape's chambers.
"Quite, Mr Potter. It really is in both of our best interests if you depart, don't you think? Now?"
Harry shook his head slightly to try and clear the sleep away, and staggered to his feet. Snape watched him patiently. He was already dressed. Or perhaps, Harry thought, he had never been to bed; perhaps he had spent the night in the armchair opposite, watching over him as he slept…
Harry padded to the door. He still felt half-asleep. Snape was watching his progress with a sardonic eye.
"Thanks, Professor," he did manage to say before setting off. "I – er, yeah well. Thanks."
Fortunately, he met no-one on his return to his dormitory. The Fat Lady eyed him disapprovingly when he gave the password, but made no comment. She let him in, and he scooted up the stairs towards his dorm.
Everybody still seemed to be sleeping, thankfully. Harry was just pulling his own quilt over himself when he heard Ron's whisper.
"Harry!"
"What?" Harry muttered back, casting quick glances around. Ron had raised himself to an elbow and was glaring at him.
"Where've you been?"
"Just downstairs," Harry mumbled. "Couldn't sleep."
"No you weren't!" Ron hissed at him. He sounded angry. "I woke up, and you weren't there, so I got worried. I went looking for you…"
"You didn't go tell anyone I was missing, did you?" Harry said in sudden alarm.
"No. I just figured you'd gone on one of your midnight rambles. But I wasn't expecting you to be out all night! Where've you been?"
"Just…about." Harry lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes, hoping this would give Ron a hint.
If Ron recognized it as such, he was deliberately ignoring it. He swung his long, skinny ankles over the side of his bed and came to sit next to Harry, so he could hiss in his ear.
"You've been with Snape, haven't you?"
Harry sighed. This was not the sort of thing he could easily explain to Ron. "Well. All right. Yes. He found me when I was walking around, that's all, and made me some cocoa….then I fell asleep…"
"Snape – made – you - cocoa?" Ron's whisper was incredulous. He paused. Harry kept his eyes closed, but he was sure Ron was shaking his head. "Are you having it off with Snape?"
Harry jerked upright. "No I am not!" he said angrily, forgetting to whisper.
Around the dormitory, bodies moved and stirred.
"What's going on?" Dean's voice demanded sleepily. "S'not time to get up yet, is it?"
"Nothing," Harry said shortly, in a low voice. "Go back to sleep."
"Will if you two'll shut up," Seamus said blearily. "You woke me up…"
"Sorry."
Harry lay back down, and closed his eyes firmly again. He felt weight shift from his mattress. Good. Ron had gone back to his own bed. He was sure he had not heard the end of this, though.
Fortunately, Ron seemed to realize that this was not a conversation for the public domain. So he did not try to pursue it over breakfast. He did, however, keep shooting scowling glances at both Hermione and Harry as he shovelled cornflakes into his mouth at speed.
Harry quite understood why Ron should be annoyed with Hermione. He, too, wanted to know why she was spending so much time with Snape. So, Harry frowned thoughtfully at Hermione, Ron frowned at Harry and Hermione, and Hermione calmly ignored the pair of them and ate her breakfast at a decorous pace.
Harry blinked as a memory drifted back. Last night, when he was drinking cocoa in Snape's chambers… He had moved some papers in order to set his cup down, and had vaguely registered that they had been written in Hermione's neat script. As he knew Hermione was doing some research for Snape, he had not thought much of it. The top page had just been full of undecipherable squiggles anyway, and no help at all in satisfying his curiosity.
One word had caught his eye, though, he recalled. Taveon. It had meant nothing to him. He filed it away carefully. Maybe it was a clue to what Hermione was up to with Snape…He resolved to do some research of his own on this at the earliest opportunity.
But now, he had a day full of NEWT classes to look forward to. And first session happened to be double Potions.
Gryffindor were still paired with the Slytherins. It wasn't so bad as it had been. Crabbe and Goyle had not done well enough in their OWLs to carry on to NEWTs. Harry had heard from Mr Weasley that they had been sent to Durmstrang to retake most of their exams.
Malfoy was still here at Hogwarts, however. Harry scowled; he could see his blonde head strutting in front of him on their way to the Potions class. To his surprise, the relationship between Malfoy and Snape had continued unchanged even after Snape was exposed as a spy.
Hermione had said wisely that Malfoy was probably keeping his options open. Maybe he was hoping that the Second War would be over by the time he left school, and he could join the winning side.
Or maybe, Ron had said darkly, he was behaving himself on Voldemort's instructions: so the Dark Lord had a tool at Hogwarts ready to hand at the time he wanted one.
This was one occasion when Harry thought Ron was right, not Hermione. His brow creased in sudden anxiety. He knew Voldemort was desperate to get his hands on Snape. What if the time to make use of such a tool was now?
He would keep a close eye on Malfoy, he determined.
"Mr Potter," Snape's voice sighed. "I am pleased you have graced us with your physical presence. Perhaps your mind, such as it is, would care to join us as well?"
"Sorry," Harry muttered, realizing his attention had wandered so far he had not registered class starting. He waited for his first points of the year to be docked from Gryffindor, but Snape was continuing smoothly on with the lesson.
He peered at the board as Snape's handwriting magically appeared on it. Oh, all right, he thought… I know how to do this one… It was a potion he had assisted Snape to make over the summer. With unaccustomed confidence, he collected his ingredients and set to work.
Potter's potion-making had actually improved, I noted. I would never have thought it possible. The additional practice over the summer had clearly done him good.
The class were all intent upon their preparations. This was a NEWT class; the real incompetents like Longbottom had all been weeded out. It was safe for me to occupy myself with marking some of the work turned in by lower school years.
I was energetically scoring out some worthless reflections upon the properties of Billywig stingers when the explosion happened.
Exclaiming, I leaped up.
Potter.
I might have known.
His cauldron was on fire and bubbling over. He, and several of his Gryffindor friends who had been sitting near him, were scalded by the burning purple liquid.
Potter himself was standing poised for action on the balls of his feet, his wand pointed directly at Malfoy's grinning face.
Malfoy, likewise, had his wand out and aimed at Potter. Both were muttering hexes under their breath.
"Put your wands away!" I commanded fiercely.
Too late. Potter's Jelly Legs hex had hit Malfoy full on. Malfoy's Blaster curse had been aimed accurately enough, but whizzed over Potter's shoulder as he swayed agilely to one side. It made a small, smoking hole in my dungeon wall.
Really. Damage to my classroom was going too far. And how dared they duel! In my class!
"Expelliarmus!"
Both of their wands flew into my hands. I regarded them grimly.
"Finite Incantatem!" I added, noticing that Malfoy was still wobbling all over the place.
I paused, glaring at them. My desire to inflict maximum retribution on Gryffindor was thwarted by an unwelcome recollection of Potter's face taut with misery as he took refuge in my dungeons in the middle of the night. And Malfoy... I had my own reasons for not wishing to alienate Mr Malfoy.
Things were certainly getting out of hand when I hesitated to throw a Gryffindor into the deepest despair I could contrive. Still: I had the fifth years next. A little suffering would doubtless be good for their noble souls.
"Now," I snarled. Malfoy and Potter both still eyed each other like fighting dogs. Neither looked remotely repentant. "That was a thoroughly disgraceful display which I would not have expected from a first year class, let alone students taking final year NEWTs. Twenty points from each of you, and both of you get out of my sight. You may return after dinner this evening, when you will find you have cleaning duties to perform. Without magic. Now GO."
"But, sir – " Malfoy began. I still held their wands.
"GO."
In consequence, Harry spent a miserable day explaining to teachers why he had no wand for his classes. He earned two more detentions in this way. His loathing for Malfoy could hardly get any worse than it already was, but a bitter resentment was added to it.
"So Malfoy's got you in trouble already!" Ron exclaimed as they met in the corridors on the way to dinner. They were both slightly late; nobody else was about.
"Yeah." Harry arranged his school-bag on his shoulder and continued to stride along with some violence. "It was all his fault, as well. He threw something into my cauldron.."
"Typical Malfoy," Ron commented. "Little toerag. Can't wait till he joins his dear old dad in Azkaban."
Harry wholeheartedly agreed.
"So, Snape back to his normal charming self then? Twenty points off Gryffindor, wasn't it?" Ron added, looking sidelong at Harry.
"And Slytherin," Harry pointed out, striding even faster.
"Yeah, but even so..Twenty points…Greasy old git…."
"Give it a rest, Ron!" Harry exploded, coming to a sharp halt and whirling round on his red-headed friend. "You've always got it in for Snape…We were duelling in class, 'course he was going to punish us…"
"Well, you've gone right weird recently, mate, I can tell you that!" Ron snapped back at him.
The portraits on the walls started nudging each other and giggling at their altercation. Harry looked up at them in irritation, and started off on the way to the Great Hall again.
"Yeah?" he said. "Well, maybe I am. Everyone's been thinking I'm weird for years, seeing things and what have you, so you can just join the rest of them… Potty Potter, right?"
"You know that's not what I meant!" Ron half-yelled in indignation. "It's just the way you're always hanging around Snape these days, it's like you fancy him or something…"
"Ron, have you got some sort of a fixation?" Harry snarled back. "I mean, it is actually possible to talk to people without having to fancy them, you know! You like to go and talk to Hagrid in his hut, does that mean you fancy him, then?"
"Me? Fancy Hagrid? I don't! I bloody don't!"
They sat as far apart from each other as they could at dinner. Harry stabbed viciously at the food on his plate. Ginny made one or two efforts to engage him in conversation but gave him up as a bad job when he just glowered at her unresponsively.
"Sorry," he muttered to her. "It isn't your fault. I'm just in a bad mood."
And after dinner, to make his day even better, he had detention to look forward to. He thought of all the homework he still had to do, and groaned.
It was close to curfew by the time Harry slouched back to the Gryffindor common room. He was now in a truly foul mood. He supposed scrubbing cauldrons with Malfoy for company would do that to a person. Also, after several hours of angry reflection upon it, his row with Ron was bothering him. He didn't want to fall out with Ron, even if he was a…. Harry shut down that train of thought. He did not think it would be conducive to a conciliatory frame of mind, and he had resolved to try to make it up with Ron.
Ron was deep in conversation with Seamus and Dean when Harry came in. He glanced up at Harry but did not acknowledge him. Harry set his chin and made his way over to them. Hermione was working at a desk on her own, quite close by to them, her tongue sticking slightly out of her mouth in concentration as she wrote some essay or other.
As Harry approached, Ron, Seamus and Dean all burst into laughter. Then he heard Ron's voice, high with merriment.
" – yeah, it's just like I said, the prat's got no balls – "
The table erupted into laughter once more.
What?
Harry felt his stomach lurch. How could Ron...How could he! Anger burned in his gullet.
"Don't say that!" he snarled, striding right over to Ron and towering over him. His fists were knotting and unknotting of their own accord.
Ron stared back up at him, his eyes wide and startled. His freckles stood out very clearly in his shocked face, and his mouth had fallen slightly open. Dean and Seamus looked from Harry to Ron in puzzlement.
"It's not Snape's fault," Harry went on. He was far too incensed to think straight. He was almost shaking with rage. "How would you like it if Voldedmort chopped off one your testicles while you – "
His mouth suddenly seized up as though somebody had paralysed his vocal cords. Whirling, he was just in time to see Hermione's wand, out of everybody's line of sight, completing the final flourishes of a silencing spell. He tried to shout at her, then felt ridiculous when his mouth simply flapped open and closed uselessly. He just stood there, fuming.
"What?" Dean said incredulously. "You're kidding? Snape – "
"Yes, of course he's kidding," Hermione said briskly, a slightly high edge to her voice. She elbowed Harry out of the way. "Funny joke, Harry, ha ha."
Dean and Seamus were not convinced. Obviously something was going on here. They were still looking from Harry's livid face to Ron's shocked one.
"I don't reckon he was kidding," Seamus blurted. He looked excited. "Harry, what – "
"Don't be stupid," Hermione interrupted again, eyes flashing. "And if I were you I wouldn't go around repeating such a stupid story either. Snape would string the lot of you from the Astronomy Tower if he knew you'd been saying that sort of thing....Harry, come here for a minute, will you. I need to ask you something. Urgently."
She had Harry's arm in a grip so hard it hurt as she dragged him to the furthest corner of the common room and pushed him into a chair.
He glared at her, pointing to his mouth, and making angry gestures with his hands.
"If you promise not to shout at me the moment I take the spell off," Hermione said firmly. She was standing over him, hands on hips.
Reluctantly, Harry nodded.
He didn't shout. That much was true. But the torrent of abuse against Ron which came out of his mouth as soon as he could speak only served to make Hermione fold her arms and roll her eyes upwards towards the ceiling.
"You finished now?" she said grimly, when Harry finally paused.
"No," he hissed. "When I get him on his own I'm going to – "
"Harry." Hermione sat sideways on the arm of the chair next to him. "Harry, shut up for a minute and listen to me."
Harry glowered at her. He wasn't interested in her excuses. Ron, as far he was concerned, had just done something unforgivable. He knew Ron didn't like Snape, and didn't approve of the fact that Harry seemed to be spending time with him. But none of that could justify what Ron had done, betraying a secret told to him in strictest confidence – and such a damaging, hurtful secret at that –
"Harry," Hermione said again. She seemed reluctant to speak now Harry had relapsed into seething silence, and she had the opportunity. She took a deep breath. She wore an expression of mingled apprehension and pity.
"Harry. They weren't talking about..about Snape.."
Harry glowered at her skeptically. Trust Hermione to try and cover for Ron!
"Harry..They were – they were talking about..... Quidditch........."
The words hung in the air for a long moment.
Harry's eyes, arrested, locked with hers.
"What?" he said faintly.
"Quidditch," Hermione repeated. "They'd been arguing about whose fault it was the Appleby Arrows lost the match the other week. Ron said it was the fault of their Seeker for being too frightened to go after the Snitch. The exact phrase he used was….was….that their Seeker 'hadn't got any balls'."
"But they were laughing.." Harry whispered dully. His heart was thudding painfully in his chest.
"Their Seeker's a girl, Harry," Hermione pointed out. "Personally I don't find that a very funny joke, but they all seemed to think it hilarious…."
Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head in his hands.
"Quidditch," he repeated. A note of hysteria crept into his voice. "Quidditch! I'll, I'll go tell them I was just making it up, that it wasn't true – "
"Leave it, Harry," Hermione advised him, with a sigh. "You'll make it worse. If you bring it up again, you'll only make more of a thing of it in their heads. With any luck they'll forget all about it, or think you were just being stupid…"
"Yeah," Harry said bleakly. "That would be right."
Very, very stupid, he thought. Oh shit…what if it got back to Snape that half Gryffindor Common room knew his secret….?
Harry groaned. Despair at his own idiocy engulfed him.
He had a very bad feeling about this.
How, how, could he have been so stupid!
Thanks to reviewers – no time for comments this time, got to go and get my stuff ready for work tomorrow. Bah. Are there any millionaires out there who want to pay someone to write them Harry Potter fanfic stories on demand until the next book comes out?? Because if so, I volunteer…
But to specific questions – yep, Oya, it means Snape is missing something! And Mystical Panther, I wrote the poems. ..and BeldaranCara, no, no, not boring at all!!!!