Chapter 28: Detention
Harry wasn't looking for Charlie. He had been looking for Sirius, hoping to wheedle some school stories from him for ideas on getting detention. Charlie was the one who answered the staffroom door, however.
"Oh, hey, Harry," he said, with a smile. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey Char—er, Profe… Er, hello," Harry finished dumbly. "I was looking for Sirius."
"Not here. You check his office?"
"Yes, he wasn't there either."
"You could wait here if you like," Charlie offered. "I just made some tea and could use some company."
"Oh, sure."
Harry hadn't been in the staffroom since his third year, but it hadn't really changed. In fact, he could have sworn the cobwebs looked familiar. Charlie passed him a cup, filling it and refilling his own.
"Did you ever get in trouble when you were at Hogwarts?" Harry said bluntly. "I mean, really bad. A couple weeks of detention's worth."
Charlie looked at him oddly. " 'Fraid you're asking the wrong Weasley. Though I did once get in a rough spot when I managed to burn away half of Win Minnow's robes during a Potions lesson. She didn't suffer any burns herself, but I think that's part of the reason why they wouldn't believe it was an accident." He gave Harry a hint of a grin.
"How exactly did you do it?" Harry asked quickly.
Charlie burst out laughing. "If you're trying to get a peep up someone's skirt, Harry, that's not the way to do it, especially if you like the girl. Trust me. Win didn't say a word to me the rest of the year."
Harry flushed bright red. "I didn't mean…Well, I…"
He trailed off. The very fact that Charlie thought he was thinking about girls…. In any case, he couldn't tell Charlie the real reason he wanted to know how to get in trouble. Not many students went around seeking detention.
"Er…uh, are you… Are you keeping the Welsh Green?" Harry asked, desperate for a new subject.
"No," said Charlie with another laugh. "I don't have a death wish just yet. I sent it to the colony they have in Wales; they've got wizards trained just for the purpose of reintroducing orphaned young."
"Yes… Yes, that would make sense. …Hagrid always wanted a dragon. Even had one for a while. Did you know that?"
Charlie shook his head slowly. Harry stared into his tea.
"Harry," Charlie said gently, "I know Ron can be a prat. I'd be the first to admit it. Well, no, that would be Fred and George, but my point is, his heart's always in the right place. He didn't mean to keep things a secret from you and Hermione; he just didn't know what to do."
"I understand. I really do," Harry said, looking up. "None of us have been going through the happiest of times."
"No. No, you haven't." It was Charlie's turn to stare into his teacup. "Weasleys need purpose, you know. We always have. It's our tragic flaw; well, that and a stubborn streak. And maybe a bit of a temper. But without feeling needed, a Weasley melts away."
Harry looked at him, a little unsure of what to say, but Charlie seemed to come out of his thoughts, giving Harry a smile.
"Sorry I'm being so odd and vague. I'm just worried about Ron. I think he feels he's lost what makes him needed. A Weasley who sees his purpose crumbling around him will go to drastic measures." Charlie sighed, shaking his head. "That's part of why I took this job. All I really know is dragons, but Albus needed a professor and I needed to be there for my brother."
"But what has he lost?"
"I don't know myself. Maybe he never even had it yet. Ron's always been different, in a way. My dad, for instance, has found his purpose in his family and Muggles; he doesn't want more. Mum has always been dedicated to making everyone feel welcome and happy, family or not. Bill gets pathetic pay but has adventures and excitement to make his day worth it, and you know Fred and George will do anything to make people laugh, though they don't mind a bit of money along the way. But Ron's always felt the need to be important. Now, I'm not blaming you, Harry, but I think he tries too hard to compare himself to you. He wants the fame and fortune; he wants the respect. He's a lot like Percy, really. Don't tell him I said that," Charlie added quickly. "I found it hard enough following in Bill's wake; I can't imagine how it must feel to be 'just another Weasley brother.' He wants so much to be important."
"But he is," Harry said. "To me, to Hermione. To you and your parents, Fred, George, Bill. Maybe even to Draco."
Charlie laughed. "Have you ever tried telling him that? He seems to think everyone just says things because they pity him. Witch Weekly could declare him Most Important Wizard of the Year and he would say they did 'cause he was looking a little down. Ron only thinks he's important when…well, when he thinks he is. No one can get through that thick skull of his. I told you, stubbornness runs in the family."
Harry smiled slightly, shaking his head.
"I was hoping," Charlie barreled on, "that you might know something. Ron never tells us much. Has anything important happened; did he lose anything?"
Harry thought of Azar. He thought of Hagrid, and James, and Ginny and Percy. He thought about a broken necklace tucked safely away in a sock in his trunk. Then he shook his head.
"No," he said quietly. "Nothing comes to mind."
Harry left Charlie with a swift good-bye, checking by Sirius' office again. Finding it empty, he headed back to Gryffindor tower. He had "giblets" halfway out of his mouth when someone floated right through the middle of the Fat Lady. She and Harry gave a jump.
"Percy!" Harry cried.
"Damn!" Percy said back, suddenly disappearing.
He was back before Harry had a chance to gape. "Sorry, Harry; reflex. I normally keep invisible, but I was talking with Ron and I guess I forgot to go back into stealth mode."
He gave a hearty laugh that normally would have set Harry on-guard (Percy only made bad jokes when particularly pompous or nervous and he wasn't looking particularly full of himself today )had Harry not been shocked at his very presence.
"But you're supposed to be gone! You were Azar's guide!" Harry said quickly.
Percy blinked. "Aza…oh, yes, Ron told me. I offer my condolences, Harry. If I'd known sooner—"
"But you were supposed to take her!" Harry interrupted. "She… Weren't you?"
Percy looked shocked. "The girl didn't even know me; why would I be her guide? Really, it's a wonder you and Ron are even able to breathe on your own. Well, I must be going. Good luck on your N.E.W.T.s."
And with that, Percy was gone.
"You do have some of the oddest conversations," the Fat Lady said.
"Giblets."
Harry hurried to the dormitory, hoping Ron would be there. He had guessed right. Ron sat on his bed, staring at the floor.
"What did he say?" Harry said urgently.
Ron jumped. "Huh?"
"What did Percy say? Did he tell you anything?"
Dumbly, Ron shook his head. "Nothing new, at least.
Harry sank onto his bed. "He wasn't Azar's guide, Ron."
"I know," Ron said hoarsely. "We're not done yet. We're going to lose someone else."
Harry was instantly back on his feet. "No! Percy said before it wasn't a sure thing; he doesn't have to take anyone! We'll be careful, that's all."
Ron gave a weak laugh. "Yeah, and why don't we try not blinking while we're at it?"
Shaking his head, Harry almost laughed. "We'll try at least. Just because Percy's here doesn't mean anything will happen."
"No," Ron agreed. "No. It doesn't mean anything."
They were silent for a moment. Harry couldn't help wondering, watching Ron study the floor, what was missing. He was his friend; he should know these things.
"Ron," he said. "Have you… Well, is there any… Are you…"
Ron cocked his head to the side, looking perplexed. "Am I what?"
"Are you up for some flying before Quidditch practice?"
"Sure," Ron said, hopping up.
Harry knew it was a spineless move, but he couldn't really help it. He and Ron didn't talk about those things, not if they could avoid it, and besides, what was he thinking? Ron hadn't lost anything; Charlie was probably just trying to get information for Mrs. Weasley anyway. It didn't really matter.
"Of course I knew he wasn't her guide," Hermione said at breakfast the next morning. "They didn't even know each other. Do you mean to tell me that you thought—"
"You can be really irritating sometimes, did you know?" Ron said, slouching over his bacon.
Hermione went silent. The clinking of forks on plates was the only sound exchanged between them for a while; then Hermione stood up, gathering her things.
"I'm going to class early; I wanted to talk with Connerly about Quantitative Effort spells," she explained. "Bye."
"Bye," Harry said.
As she left, he glanced at Ron. He'd moved on to studying his potatoes now.
"I'm going to go, too," Harry said. "You ready to set off?"
"Not yet; I want to finish this," Ron said, shuffling a kipper. "Go on, though, I'll see you in class."
"Right. See you."
He hated it when Ron and Hermione were fighting. Of course, that was most of the time, but at least they'd fought a bit more nicely when they were dating. He slowed in his walk, pausing in the door and glancing back at Ron. Maybe he should—
Harry froze. Snape had just gotten up from the staff table and was now headed for him and the door. He scowled. It was already Wed-sodding-nesday and he hadn't managed to get detention. Of course he hadn't really tried. After all, his last attempt had been deemed rather pathetic. Well, Snape was headed this way, he thought, as he walked through the double doors, maybe—
Harry was jogged off balance just then by a Slytherin who grunted in recognition as he slopped on. Harry's scowl deepened but then suddenly disappeared completely. Well, that certainly would be a good way to get detention… particularly since Snape was Head of Slytherin House. And what teacher happened to be not-too-far away but Snape? Before he could stop himself, Harry stomped forward and shoved the Slytherin in the back.
"Watch it!" he snarled.
The Slytherin, who Harry now recognized as Theodore Nott, spun around. "What did you say?"
Strange how it wasn't until then that Harry realized the boy was a good forty-five centimeters and kilos larger than he was. Maybe he should just…
"I said watch it!" Harry growled again, setting his feet firm.
"Well, if you hadn't been crowding the door as if you owned it, I might have been able to get by without getting your highness dirty," Nott growled back, cracking his knuckles.
"It's not my fault you're so porky you need both doorways to get through!"
Nott's eyes were flashing. "You might just want to watch your mouth, Potter."
"It's my nose I'm more worried about; after your stench, I doubt I'll be able to smell anything for weeks."
Harry'd once seen a nature documentary about silver-backed gorillas. At one point, the head male slowly advanced on a rebel young male, right before tearing him apart. At that moment, Harry knew exactly how that young male must have felt.
He tried to calm himself, ready to start swinging. After all, Snape would be right there; he'd stop things soon. Harry's stomach suddenly turned to ice. He was counting on Snape to step in and stop him from getting himself killed. He suddenly felt as though he might as well have strapped himself in an electrical chair and asked Dudley Dursley to guard the switch.
"You might want to think about that, Nott."
Harry spun around and Nott stopped his slow, murderous advance. Draco Malfoy stood there, arms folded and sneer set firmly in place.
"Arguing with Potter is my job," he drawled. "I don't take kindly to competition."
"And I don't take kindly to no-good, busy-body, traitorous pricks, so sod off," Nott ordered.
Draco clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Afraid I can't do that; you pick a fight with Potter, you pick a fight with me. And unlike Potter, I don't—" in a blur of movement, Draco had his wand out and pointed right between Nott's eyes. "—play fair."
Harry suddenly shoved at Draco's hand, staring at him pointedly. "Go away, Malfoy. This is my fight, not yours."
Surprise flitted across Draco's face, but the confident smirk soon returned. "Sorry, Harry; there you are wrong."
"No one asked you to step in!" Harry yelled. This was all going extremely wrong. If Draco attacked Nott when Snape finally came, he'd be the one with detention instead of Harry.
"Like I care what other people want," Draco said, a definite anger behind his stare. "I will help you whether you like it or not."
Harry glanced at the Great Hall doors and saw the figure of Snape step into the frames. He was not letting this chance go. Before Draco could stop him, Harry snatched his friend's wand up and hurled it up the stairs. Nott took that moment to pounce but Harry was one step ahead, ramming his shoulder into the boy's gut. They slammed to the floor and before Harry could even ball up a fist, he felt a very large hand grip his throat. He gagged, but began swinging; as Nott still held him at arm's-length, he only hit the arm that was strangling him, and not very often at that.
"Potter!" Snape yelled. "What are you doing?"
'Choking, if you don't mind!' Harry thought angrily; he would have said it aloud, but he only seemed capable of making indistinct gargling noises.
Nott's grip released and Harry fell to the floor, panting. He didn't get much of a chance to catch his breath, however, before Snape yanked him to his feet by the scruff of his robes.
"Explain," Snape hissed.
"Potter attacked me unprovoked!" Nott wheezed, clutching his stomach.
"Liar!" Draco cried.
"Are you saying Nott threw the first punch, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked sharply.
"No, but I'm sure he said something to provoke Harry," Draco said, looking to his friend for backup.
"No," Harry muttered, looking at the floor. "Nott bumped me walking through the door, so I shoved him. It kind of escalated from there."
Draco didn't even try to keep his composure; his mouth hung open, and his brows contracted low over his eyes.
"Was that what happened?" Snape snapped, looking at Nott.
Nott nodded sharply.
"Potter, come with me," Snape said, releasing him and gliding toward the dungeon steps.
Harry followed, sure not to make eye contact with Draco, who stared until he was out of sight.
Snape didn't say a word as they swept through the corridors, leaving Harry a little worried. Surely Snape knew it had been a ruse, that he was just trying to get detention for lessons? Granted it had been against his own House, but Snape wouldn't hold that much of a vendetta. Would he?
Snape closed the door to his office. "Next time, Potter, you might want to find a happy medium between clumsiness and suicide."
"I was running out of time and none too loaded with ideas," Harry snapped, somewhat relieved.
"For one who has certainly made a career of getting into trouble, you seem to be severely lacking in forethought."
"Wouldn't having a career in getting into trouble mean you have a lack of forethought?" Harry knew he was insulting himself, but it was a small price to pay to prove Snape wrong.
"Not necessarily," Snape said, reaching into his desk and taking out the jar of slugs. "But apparently I overestimated you."
Harry realized his fists were clenched and quickly relaxed them. He figured his urge to hit Snape was probably due to excess adrenaline over the fight. But why had Snape forced him to admit Nott hadn't provoked him? It wasn't like he really needed an excuse to give Harry detention, and now Draco thought he was acting strange, and whatever Draco knew Hermione would soon know and…. Harry had to relax his fists again.
"Potter? Are you even listening?"
Harry blinked. "Er…well, no."
Snape raised an eyebrow slightly. "Were you under the impression that you were to have a regular detention? That can be arranged."
"No," Harry said quickly. "No, Professor, I just have a lot on my mind."
"Well, I suggest you get rid of that 'lot.' If you are to learn the Killing Curse, there can be nothing else you want more," Snape said sharply. "It's not easy, Potter. Harder than the Cruciatus Curse, by far. And this time you won't be able to practice on me."
Harry nodded, trying not to look frightened, as Snape withdrew a slug and put it on his desk. When it had been time to learn the Cruciatus Curse, Harry had wanted to go straight to the Killing Curse. Now he wished he could forget about it completely.
"There will be no need to practice on anything other than the slugs," Snape said thickly, staring fixedly at the creature oozing along his desk. "Slug, mouse, rabbit…. Once you know the curse, it doesn't matter. They all die."
"Why?" Harry asked quietly.
Snape glared at him. "I am no expert on the subject, Potter. But perhaps because death is the only thing all creatures have in common."
"And life," Harry said without thinking. He surprised even himself.
"There is no life without death, Potter," Snape said tersely.
Harry met his stare. "There also isn't death without life."
Snape was silent a moment. "This isn't a Philosophy of Magic class, Potter. Now watch carefully, I'm only going to do this once."
Snape took out his wand, pointing it toward the slug. Then, with a sudden jabbing movement, he cried, "Avada Kedavra!"
There was a flash of green light, a rattling wind, and the slug was motionless. Harry stared at it, his throat constricting.
"I can't do this."
Snape swept the slug into a bin. "You have three weeks to prove otherwise. Dismissed."
Harry hadn't even properly gotten out of the portrait hole before his two best friends pounced on him.
"What the hell were you thinking?!"
"Hallo to you, too, Ron."
Ron looked like he was about to knock some sense into Harry quite literally. "If you wanted to get yourself killed, there are less painful ways of doing it; jumping off the Astronomy Tower onto a floor of daggers, for one! Or how 'bout taking a stroll in the Forbidden Forest?!"
"I didn't want to get myself killed."
"Picking a fight with Nott isn't the best way to stay alive, you know!"
"That's not like you, Harry," Hermione said, somewhere between concerned and calculating. "Draco says Nott only bumped you."
Harry shrugged. "I guess I was on edge. If it makes you feel better, I can promise I won't do it again."
"Too right you won't," Ron snorted. "I'll dog your steps till Doom's Day if you take on any more tro—"
"I got three weeks detention," Harry said as gloomily as possible. It wasn't that hard to do.
Ron's jaw dropped open and Hermione's eyes grew wide.
"What?" Ron croaked.
"Snape gave me three weeks. Every night, five till whatever hour he sees fit."
"But…Quidditch!" Ron cried.
"Homework!" Hermione imitated.
"Quidditch!!!" Ron said again.
Hermione took a deep breath, glared at Ron, and then turned to Harry. "He can't give you three weeks detention, Harry. It's wrong."
"There's nothing I can do about it," Harry shrugged.
Hermione's eyes widened. "Why aren't you fighting it? This isn't like you."
"She's got a point, mate," Ron muttered grudgingly, shooting Hermione a disgruntled look.
Visibly tensing, Hermione ignored him. "Something's wrong. Why don't you tell us?"
"Nothing's wrong," Harry said, trying to laugh but only succeeding in a slight wheeze.
"You're lying to us," Hermione said, her voice going more high-pitched than usual.
"Why would I lie?" Harry said, still trying to sound offhand.
"Because everything's wrong." Hermione sounded near tears. "You don't pay attention in class, your thoughts are so scattered when we try to talk, which is rare, you—"
"You don't seem to care about Quidditch anymore," Ron interjected.
"How can you think of that stupid game at a time like this?!" Hermione snapped, wheeling on Ron.
"For God's sake, Hermione, you're the only one in the world that thinks it's a stupid game!" Ron roared back. "Now who's wrong, you or the entire wizarding world?!"
Hermione flushed. "Oh, stop being so temperamental over your precious game!"
"Me?!" Ron cried. "You're just as bad, if not worse!"
"I am not temperamental!"
"Then what do you call this?!"
"Well, I'm not temperamental with anyone but you!"
"Then why are you even friends with me?!"
"Because you hit a troll," Harry said hastily.
"What?!"
Ron and Hermione turned as though Harry had suddenly popped up out of thin air and said this. Their eyes were still flashing.
"Er…. Well, you levitated a troll's club and…knocked it out," Harry said warily. "We were friends after that, remember?"
There was silence a moment, then Ron turned to Hermione again. "See? I saved your life; you could be a bit nicer, don't you think!"
"Oh, Harry did as much saving as you!" Hermione shot back. "Besides, I've saved you loads of times!"
Harry watched helplessly as his attempt to stem the shouting failed spectacularly.
"You save me? Ha! I could have gotten along quite well without any of your help!"
"Just as I could have beaten the troll!"
"Another laugh! You were cowering when we found you; absolutely petrified!"
"Well, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for me helping you with your schoolwork! You would have been kicked out long ago, or at the very least you wouldn't be Head Boy, and Harry would have gotten the badge like he was supposed to!"
The instant the words were out of her mouth, Hermione clapped her hand over it. Ron went rigid, his eyebrows contracting low.
"Ron, I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"Think," he growled. "You don't think around me, you get angry around me, I bring out every bad aspect of you, don't I?"
"No, Ron, of course—"
Ron sprang to his feet and looked ready to yell again but took a deep breath instead. "We can't even talk anymore. It doesn't work this way; friends have to be able to talk. I don't think we can even be friends."
Hermione was gaping, but Ron just walked away, up the staircase.
'Great,' Harry thought.
"Hermione, I'm sure—"
Hermione sprang up, marching to the staircase up to the boys' dormitory. "Have you ever realized what an enormous prat you are?!" she yelled up after Ron. "Fine then, walk away from it, you insensitive, irrational, illogical idiot!"
"Her…Hermione!" Harry said, shocked.
"Can't talk? Can't talk?!" she continued yelling, as though Harry hadn't said a thing. "I'll show you 'can't talk'!!!"
"Would you? 'Cause some of us are trying to SLEEP!" A voice was descending the stairs. "I'll start docking points if you don't shut the hell—oh, Hermione."
Colin Creevey looked extremely embarrassed, but Hermione didn't even seem to notice him, marching off to her own dorm with the slam of a door. Colin stared after her with wide eyes, then turned to Harry who was equally shocked.
"All right, Harry?"
"Hello, Colin," he sighed, shaking his head.
"Will, Potter. You can't—"
"Damn it, I'm trying, so lay off!" Harry snarled, hurling his wand across the office. It had been the third night in a row of an overly long lesson and Harry was nowhere nearer knowing the Killing Curse than he had been when he started. To make matters worse, today was Ron's birthday, and Harry hadn't seen him all day. He was sure his friend was sulking somewhere for no good reason. It was all rather trying to his patience.
Snape looked completely unaffected. "Fine, Potter. Dismissed."
Inwardly, Harry hit himself over the head. "No, I'm fine. It's just been a rough week. I want to keep trying."
Snape's voice was ice. "I wasn't making a suggestion, Potter."
Harry wasn't in the mood for this. "Neither was I. I'm going to stay and practice, and you're going to stay and teach, whether you like it or not."
Snape pulled out his wand, pointing it at Harry. "Oh?"
Harry set his feet firmly on the ground, clenching his fists. He wasn't going to let Snape push him around.
"Imperio!"
The corners of Harry's vision blurred and he felt slightly light-headed, but Snape's face was as clear as ever. Harry glared at him.
'Leave,' Snape's voice commanded in his head.
'You'll have to do better than that.'
Even Harry was surprised by the clarity of his response.
'Go to the door,' Snape said after a moment.
'I told you, I'm not leaving.'
Harry clenched his fists and jaw, concentrating on Snape's still clear face.
'A step. Just take a step forward.'
Harry felt his leg quiver but he firmly planted it. 'I'm not leaving.'
'One step, that's all.'
"I'm not leaving!"
The fog and light-headedness disappeared, and Harry found himself still staring angrily at Snape.
"Accio."
Harry's wand flew from its corner and into Snape's outstretched hand. He walked forward, handing it back to Harry.
"Now put that will to good use," he said coolly.
Harry let out his breath slowly. Had Snape planned that?
The potions professor glared. "Potter."
Quickly turning to the slug, Harry concentrated on how he had felt staring at Snape's face, the angry desire to beat him.
"Will it dead."
It wasn't a slug anymore. It was Draco eyeing him suspiciously but refusing to speak to him; it was the nasty looks Ron and Hermione shot at each other in class; it was the Quidditch practices he couldn't bring himself to care about.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A vacuum suddenly grabbed hold of Harry's innards, ripping them from their proper place, pulling them through his arm, his fingers, his wand. They spilled out in a blinding green light and a roar of wind that erased all other sound. It happened in an instant, lasted just as long, light and wind fading into nothing, and Harry found himself staring at a motionless slug.
"Success," Snape said, barely moving his lips.
Harry didn't hear him. He just kept staring at the slug, numb to his fingers and toes. It was as though his insides had slid away with the spell, as though he'd been sucked hollow. Lost, empty, nothing. For all he felt, he might as well have been pointing the wand at himself. Without even realizing it, his grip tightened on his wand until his knuckles shook, white and hard. He felt hot water swimming behind his eyes, and he didn't even care enough to will it away. All he saw, all he knew, was that motionless creature in front of him.
Snape was silent. He walked away from Harry, staring at a nonexistent window in the wall. His arms were crossed, and slowly his grip on his upper arms grew tighter.
His back still turned to Harry, Snape said, "What do you want to know, Potter?"
It was a while before Harry even registered that he had said anything. "What?"
"You asked about my life," Snape said, still not turning around. "Thirty-eight years is a long time, too long to sum up. What do you want to know?"
Harry stared at the back of his professor's head in amazement. He wasn't avoiding the questions any more, but welcoming them. But what to ask? What did he want to know?
"Why did you stop?" Harry shook his head, realizing the question made no sense. "I mean, why did you suddenly turn against Voldemort?"
Snape looked over his shoulder at Harry, arching an eyebrow slightly. "That is an odd question to ask."
Harry felt heat coming to his face and shrugged, avoiding eye contact but trying to pretend he wasn't. "I've just always wondered. I didn't—"
"Most people prefer to ask why I joined," Snape said, cutting him short. "Or rather, most of those willing to ask at all. Only one other asked why I betrayed the Dark Lord…"
Harry wanted to ask who the other person had been, but felt he might be pushing his luck. He just waited in silence as Snape turned away, gazing at a spot of wall where a window might have been had they been above ground. For a while, Harry considered leaving it just as that. But he had gone this far…
"Why did you stop?" he asked again, more quietly this time.
The silence reigned again for a while, and Harry feared he might have said the question so quietly that Snape hadn't heard him. Finally, Snape moved, withdrawing a silver chain from his neck. Hanging on it were two rings. One was a simple silver band; the other was its twin, but for an emerald stone. He handed the necklace gently to Harry.
"We were both Slytherins, and very proud to be," he said with something that Harry thought might be a smile. "Besides, the emerald was her birthstone. It seemed more fitting that way."
"You…you were married," Harry spoke in shock.
Snape gave a derisive laugh. "Yes, Potter, a slimy git like myself married, however impossible it may seem."
"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, concentrating on the rings. There had once been intricate carvings along the bands, but they were so worn Harry couldn't make them out. The more he looked at them, the more questions poured into his head. "Is this real?" he asked suddenly. The emerald was, after all, a very large stone.
Snape nodded slowly.
"But…how? You were poor," Harry asked quietly.
"If only your memory worked so well in class," the Potions master said, turning away slightly.
Harry waited a while, but Snape didn't go on. "You didn't answer my question."
Snape turned back around, and any remnant of happiness was wiped from his face. "Lord Voldemort provides," he replied, his dark eyes glinting coldly. "She was two years younger and I never noticed her at Hogwarts. We just happened to meet in Diagon Alley the summer after she graduated… We married seven months later."
Harry let this sink in. "So what happened?"
Snape seemed to drop even deeper into his gloom. "Ethie—Ethelindi—was a muggleborn. I didn't know; for three months I didn't know. Then I met her parents, and it was too late. I was willing to believe she was different; I was willing to believe we couldn't be touched. But marrying me only made it more dangerous for her; she had a squib sister-in-law."
"Juni," Harry murmured without thinking.
Snape gave him a sharp look. "Yes. Ethie was a great supporter of the non-magical world, and Juniata gave her another reason to fight. She even united my parents in the crusade; she was a miracle-worker… I tried to stop them, to make them be quiet and let the world run its course. They laughed at me for my worrying; they didn't know—unfortunately, Voldemort had good informers. He'd also gotten into the habit of killing off Death Eater families to test their loyalty." Snape's eyes were distant, as though not even seeing the room anymore. "We were called Christmas Eve; I was sent to spy on a possible secret Ministry meeting. There was no such meeting. When I returned to report, Voldemort questioned me on the strength of my loyalty. I assured him that it could never be stronger. Then I went home, to my parents' home, where Ethie and I had been visiting. The Dark Mark glowed green over their house…"
Snape went silent. His face held no emotion, but seemed a little more strained than was natural. Harry had seen such a look on Sirius' face, though only when his godfather thought himself unnoticed.
"Juni was there." Snape's voice was much quieter. "She sat on the front steps, crying. As soon as she saw me, she ran over and took me in her arms. She was so cold. She'd been at a friend's house and came home to find our parents and Ethie dead. …I suppose, in my shock, I wasn't as cautious as I should have been. Juniata saw my Mark, and she saw the one above the house, and she screamed. I tried to explain, but she ran. I didn't speak with her again for many years… The next day, I found my way to Hogwarts. I'd had enough."
Harry swallowed. So that was that.
"Dumbledore, then," Harry said quietly. "Dumbledore was the other person who asked why you turned."
Snape shook his head. "I told him; he had no reason to ask."
Harry nodded, and suddenly his question didn't matter. It didn't seem a part of anything. Both men were silent. There was nothing left to say.
"Your lessons are finished," Snape spoke up at last. "The Killing Curse needs no practice; once you know, you know. You never forget."
"I won't do it again; I can't," Harry said, feeling as though his throat were a cavern.
"Everyone says that. Nearly everyone, at least." Snape started walking across the room, let out a slow sigh. "But you will. Death Eaters almost get addicted to it, but the first time is rarely pleasant, as with all dangerous drugs."
The cavern in Harry's throat felt as though it had turned inside out, trying to choke him. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, something rather disgusting might come out, and it wouldn't be in the form of words. So he just stood up and headed for the door. He'd almost closed it behind him when Snape suddenly spoke up.
"Azar."
Harry froze, a fist clenching his insides. Slowly, he turned his head, looking back at Snape. The Potions professor had his back to Harry.
"Azar Zundel," he said evenly, "was the only other person to ask why I turned back. I never told her."
Harry gripped the door handle, sure that his legs were about to break into a thousand pieces and send him to the floor. After a while, Snape turned his head and met Harry's gaze. The boy just nodded, unable to do anything else, and then left the room, the door clicking behind him.
Harry turned to go down the Fat Lady's corridor and nearly ran right into Draco. Both froze for a moment.
"What are you doing here?" Harry said before thinking.
Draco just gave him a glare and stalked off down the hall. Harry watched him and then suddenly spoke up.
"You were wrong, Draco," he said quietly.
Draco spun around. "No I wasn't," he countered, then after a pause, "About what?"
Harry made an effort to smile. "About killing. With a wand. It's nothing like snuffing out a candle."
Draco stared at him. "What would you know about it?"
"More than I wish I did."
Draco shifted slightly. A trace of curiosity played in his voice. "You know the Killing Curse?"
Harry nodded, staring at the wall.
"You…you've used it?"
Harry nodded again.
"On a person?"
"Not yet," Harry murmured.
It wasn't until then that Draco realized how tense his body was; he took a deep breath, the tension leaving. "But you plan to?"
Harry was silent for a full minute before he answered. "On one person." His eyes were still on the wall. "Just one. Good night, Draco."
He was almost into the portrait hole when Draco called after him. Harry looked back to where his friend still stood. For a while they just stood there, Draco seemingly struggling to say something. Harry felt a bit ill. Here came the questions that he didn't want to answer.
"Why'd you go after Nott?" Draco finally asked.
"To get detention," Harry said, somewhat surprised.
"Oh." Draco shrugged, cocking his head back slightly. "You should have said something. I would have been glad to help."
Harry smiled slightly.
"Good night, Draco."
"Good night, Harry."
The common room was a bustle of procrastinating Gryffindors, none of them willing to believe exams were even nearing. In a quick sweep of the room, Harry found Hermione sitting at her usual spot beside two empty chairs. She must have only just arrived; her stack of used books and papers was barely up to her chin. He walked over, sitting next to her.
"You're late," he said.
"Wha—oh, hello Harry. Late?"
"I haven't got my study chart yet," he said with a grin.
Hermione buried back into her essay. "Don't worry, I'll get it to you by Easter."
Harry was caught between laughter and pity. "I was joking, Hermione. You do remember what a joke is, don't you?"
"Of course. In fact, my essay for Flitwick is on Acheron Barnes' Good Old Joke charm where the listener, upon hearing it, will find it hilarious and have the overwhelming need to tell it to someone else, who does the same, until everyone in the world knows the joke yet they still laugh whenever they hear it. His ability to not only place a charm on spoken word but to pass that charm on through speech was—"
"Hermione, breathe, please, you're scaring me," Harry said, smiling.
"I will, I will—after Easter."
Out of the corner of his mind, Harry heard the portrait door open. The next sound he heard, however, got his and Hermione's full attention.
" 'APPY NEW YEAR!!!"
Every eye in the common room turned toward the portrait hole to find a very red-eyed and red-nosed Ronald Weasley with his arms spread wide and a broad smile on his face.
" 'Allo, 'allo, all!" he laughed, stumbling farther into the room and causing a titter through the crowd.
Shooting Hermione an apologetic glance, Harry hurried over to Ron.
" 'arry, mate, 'ow are you?" Ron asked as soon as he saw him, patting his friend on the cheek.
"Er, fine. Whew, your breath smells awful. Ron, are you okay? Where have you been?"
"It's my birthday!" he cried gleefully.
"Er, yes, I know that."
"Fred and George came and sneak-ted me to 'ogsmeade. Everyone gets absolutely trashed once in their lives, says they, s' might ah swell be on your eighteenth birthday, eh!"
"C'mon," Harry said, taking his friend around the shoulder, "I'm taking you to the dormitory before you make an idio—"
"Parvati!" Ron cried, flinging himself from Harry's grasp and toward the girl. " 'ow are you then? Did joo know today was my birthday? It is! And you didn't get me a present! I' s'okay, though; I'll take it now."
Without another word, and to the surprise of many, he roughly planted his lips on hers. The kiss lasted quite long and was intimate enough to invoke some whoops from a group of laughing third years. Harry nervously noticed Hermione hunched low over her work. When Ron finally pulled back, (the same third years applauding and whistling) Parvati opened her eyes wide while a small smile played on her lips.
"You call that a kiss!" Ron cried out. "I've 'ad better from a dead fish!"
Parvati's smile dropped from her face faster than a sleeping cat off a couch. The third years were no longer the only ones laughing.
"I mean, 'onestly, what kind of birthday present was 'at!"
Parvati was positively fuming now, her dark brown eyes looking more like canons ready to fire. Ron, oblivious to everything, simply slung an arm around her, pulling her close.
"Naw, but I's jus' joking," he slurred, nearly jaw-to-jaw with her. "I jus' wanted—"
What Ron wanted was to remain forever a mystery, for at that moment his stomach seemed to decide it didn't particularly like alcohol. He vomited, all down Parvati's robes. A shrill scream rang through the air, followed by the uproarious guffaws of the third year audience. Parvati shoved Ron away.
"You…you…you idiot!" she shrieked. "Never…! I can't…! We—are—through!!! Done! Finished! I never want to see you again!"
She shoved Ron hard, and Harry had to hurry forward to stop him from simply toppling over. Parting a sea of gawking Gryffindors, Parvati stormed to the stairs. A loud slam shook the castle. Soon the laughter died down, and Harry took on the task of saving his friend from further trouble.
" 'at leaves an awful mouth in your taste, di'joo know 'at?"
"I told you to come along before, but no," Harry muttered, trying to steer Ron towards the stairs. "I guess it could have been worse; you could have thrown up while you were kissing her."
Ron ignored this, swinging side-to-side as he walked and singing the school song to the tune of the national anthem. As the two boys started wobbling up the stairs, Harry could have sworn he heard someone snort. "Trelawney told her to beware a red-haired man."
He glanced back and saw Hermione. She was still hunched over her work but looked distinctly as though she were trying very hard not to laugh.
A/N: hides face in shame Believe it or not, this still exists, and I am still writing. Just very, very, very slowly. I'm sorry it was so late.
Thank you everyone who read and reviewed!
Tanya: Thank you! And actually the actor playing Draco is the same, just grown and new hair.
Aalikane Thank you, I will.
Starry: Thank you!
Liliana-Suger I'm beginning to forget what's going on, so don't blush. Thanks.
Call-me-00Kat: I'll try not to forget. Thank you!
Louise Luvgood: Thank you!
Gemstone121: I'll never give up, but I'll probably take my sweet time at it… I'll try to be quicker now, though. Thanks!
Jona grins Thank you!
Jess Riddle: grins Thank you. I'd say that I want you to get writing your own fics, but I don't want to pressure you, so I won't mention how I wish every day for more. Not one word.
PadfootOldBuddyOldPal She didn't make it up, but I will say she didn't see what she think she saw. Not completely. Oh, look at me, all dark and mysterious. Thank you!
Prongs4: Yeah, I've had to reread things recently. sigh But thanks for the review!
uNoeWho I won't kill Sirius, I promise. And thank you!
Lauren: Thank you!
Hema I'm really beginning to regret killing Azar. I think she may have been this story's muse. sigh Thanks for the review!
Maggie: Wow, thank you.
Slycat-blaze11: Aw, thank you. No significance to the dragon, sorry.
Idon'tlikespam312: Well, I used to think apparating came when you turned 18, but from book 5 it appears to be 17. Can't turn back now, so if I get to Harry's 18th birthday, he may very well learn. Voldemort didn't kill Sirius 'cause he wanted to make him suffer a bit; Sirius, inadvertently, managed to get away. Thank you!
Alanpatty07: Thank you!
Annoyed: Sorry, I hope I'll get more up soon!
Joyce: Wow, thank you. I can honestly say that your review was the kick in the butt that finally made me finish this and get it to my beta. So very much thank you.
Sorry if there are some mistakes in here; I decided to bite the bullet and put it up as is.
Be excellent to each other!
-Ady
9/17/04—Hey all. Have gone back and fixed the beta things I left in. self-punishment Dobby style! Can't believe I did that. And the next chapter is being betaed, so should be up soon. Thanks for your patience.
-Ady