Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Potter Universe. It all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling, who, I might add, is a genius! I only like to force the characters to do things they would never do without the assistance of chemical substances!!!!
Pairing: Harry/Severus …. If this freaks you out, then PLEASE don't read any further, I don't really appreciate reviews telling me how sick I am, okay? P.S. Harry is underage, even in the U.K. okay? He's in his 5th year in this fic, but don't worry, it doesn't get really heavy for a while…maybe not ever, because I don't have much confidence in writing naughty scenes like that. -
Summary: Harry tries a blood magic potion to better understand his summer potions homework, but mixes up the name with another potion that binds the drinker to his or her most compatible match in ability(not necessarily romantic, for instance, siblings are often bonded). Guess who Harry gets bonded with?
Spoilers: All the books, especially the 4th one, so if you haven't read it, well, you'll find out what happens.
Author's Note: Yes, I know there are several fics out there just like this one, but I just wanted to write my own and maybe get a few nice reviews, so give me a break okay?
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Chapter 3: Meal Happenings & a Botched Up Potions Experiment
Harry followed dutifully behind Professor McGonagall as she led him to his new rooms, his luggage floating at the rear. He smiled as he recognized where they were. The walls were high and there were many paintings of fruit; he had made many trips down this hall last year; Professor McGonagall wasn't to know that.
"Here it is, Potter." McGonagall had stopped and stood in front of a large painting of a fresh-out-of the-oven bread loaf on a cutting board. It looked very realistic.
"Now Potter, the password is 'Poppin Fresh', but you may change it if you'd like."
"How do I change it?" Harry asked curiously.
"You simply inform the painting that you would like to change the password after you have given it the original one. However, I do recommend that you keep it the same, Potter." She suddenly looked slightly less composed than before. "Who knows if we will have to reach you."
Harry nodded.
"Well," she said briskly, recovering, "Dinner is at 6 Potter, so don't be late." She gave him one final curt nod, then turned on her heel and left.
Harry turned and looked down the hall. Yes, the picture of the familiar bowl of fruit was two paintings away on the other side. 'This is going to be okay' Harry thought. Now to explore the room.
Harry said, "Poppin Fresh," and the picture slid upwards, revealing a square opening. A small set of stairs descended to the ground so that Harry could reach the hole and he climbed up them, curiosity mounting high. Once he got up the stairs, he traveled down another small set and found himself in a tiny, red carpeted room with a door on the other end. The picture slid closed behind him. Harry guessed that this must be some kind of entrance room. There were several hooks for cloaks and a mirror on the right wall. Harry stepped up to the door, and turned the knob. And entered what would be his room until school started.
Harry gasped at the size of it. It was huge! The room was carpeted in a rich white that looked like it was feather-soft and the walls were painted a pastel yellow. Harry walked a bit further into the room and he stared in awe at how magnificent everything was. A roaring fireplace stood in front of a table that had three comfortable chairs seated around it. There was a deep oak walk-in wardrobe and when Harry looked in it, he saw that his school robes and clothes were already hung up. The bed was a canopy bed also made from oak with white sheets and a squishy soft looking comforter. There were curtains around the bed just like in the dormitories, but they were white see-through, instead of red velvet.
Harry by-passed the bed and headed to the open door to the right of it, and walked into the bathroom. It was brightly lit with candles floating above the ceiling, and it looked very much like the prefects bathroom but not as big. Everything was marble, including the shower, which had a frosty glass door. The bath sunk deep into the floor and Harry grinned when he saw about ten taps, waiting to be turned on. He turned and shut the door, then walked over to the bath and turned on one of the taps. Hot water instantly filled the bath. Harry quickly untied his shoes, pulled off his socks and the rest of his clothes, and slid into the bath. He sighed as the water came up to his chest and settled back against the edge of the tub. 'This will be okay…'
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After his bath, Harry had dried, wrapped a white robe around himself, and walked out of the bathroom. He glanced at the clock that was on an elaborate mantel piece to see how much time he had left, saw the time and cursed, then hurried to get dressed. He only had 1 minute, and Dumbledore and McGonagall had told him not to be late. That bath had made him so relaxed that he totally had forgotten about the time.
Harry wasn't sure if he should wear his school robes or not; it was still summer vacation and even though he was at school, he shouldn't have to wear the uniform right?
Harry looked at his clothes. All of them were several sizes too big, except for the sweaters that Mrs. Weasley had made and one pair of jeans that he had shrunk to fit him last year. They would do, because Harry didn't want anyone to see what he was forced to wear at the Dursleys…Harry paused as he put on the jeans. What would he do for all the other days? He'd have to ask Dumbledore if he could shrink his clothes. He didn't want to wear the same thing every day, someone would notice.
Harry pulled on the green sweater with the dragon on it from last year; it was his favorite out of all of them. He surveyed himself in the mirror in the entrance room, smoothed down his hair, which was wet on the ends from the bath, and walked up the little stairs. He stared at the back of the painting; should he push it? Was it like the Gryffindor portrait hole? Harry doubted it because the picture of the bread had slid up, instead of just moved to the side.
"Um,"
The picture suddenly started to move. Harry sighed in relief, and then walked out and down the stairs to the floor. It seemed all he had to do was let the picture know he was there. Harry looked down at his new wristwatch and then sprinted down the hall. He made it to the marble stairs, then raced up them, so determined to get to the Great Hall on time that he didn't even notice someone walk in front of him.
"Ah!" Harry collided with someone and began to fall backwards. Two hands shot out and grasped his arms before he could fall and yanked him upwards. He clung to the person in fear of losing his balance and buried his face into soft black robes.
"Honestly Potter!" came that sneering hiss. "Must you be so inept?"
"Sorry sir, I didn't see you!" came a muffled reply. Harry turned bright red. He hastily stepped back and tried to look anywhere but at Snape. How embarrassing! He had just clung to his most hated teacher like a child. Those strong hands were still clutching his arms.
"Um, sir?"
"What, Potter?" he spat.
"Could you let go? You're hurting me."
"Oh!" Snape hurriedly let go and wiped his hands down his robes, as though wiping away germs. Harry stepped back and looked up at Snape. It was hard to think that he had been wearing muggle clothes, and driving a muggle car, only hours ago now that he had his robes on again. Harry felt a little reassurance that the whole thing had actually happened when he saw that Snape's hair was still in a ponytail.
"What were you doing down here sir?"
Snape glared at him. "I came down to retrieve you, if you must know. Dumbledore wondered where you were. You are late, obviously." He added with the usual lip curl.
Harry flushed, then stepped around Snape and continued his journey to the Great Hall. He could sense Snape right behind him, practically breathing down his neck. God, the man was horrible! Even if he was slightly attractive in muggle clothes….
Harry stepped into the Great Hall. It looked much like it always did, except there was only one table instead of the house tables. All of the Hogwarts Professors were present, and by the looks of things, had been waiting for him. Harry felt the heat rise in his face yet again. He heard Snape snicker behind him and resisted the urge to stomp on his foot.
"Ah, Harry! Didn't have any trouble did you?" The Headmaster smiled happily at him.
"No sir, I just lost track of the time." He ground out. He could almost see Snape's triumphant smirk behind his back.
"I suppose punctuality isn't a concept you Gryffindors can grasp," he muttered quietly so that only Harry could hear him. Before Harry could retaliate, the insufferable man strode over to his chair and sat down.
"Why don't you sit down Harry?" Dumbledore said pleasantly. Professor McGonagall pulled out a chair next to her and peered at him from over her spectacles. Getting the point, Harry walked over and sat down next to her. As Harry sat down, he received smiles and polite greetings from his teachers and he nodded thankfully back.
"I believe dinner is ready," Dumbledore called down the table to the rest of the faculty. "Let us propose a toast." Everyone sat up straight as Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat. Harry quickly took hold of his glass and raised it along with everyone else.
"To the health of everyone present and to those who we hold dear to us; to the innocent and the guilty; to those that have passed on," Harry looked at his lap, the feeling of guilt stronger than ever "and to the future. May it be a bright and joyful tomorrow."
Everyone raised their glasses with a few scattered 'here, here's, and then took a sip. Harry did the same and looked at Dumbledore for the next cue. He smiled at him and then the food appeared. Harry, suddenly ravenous, either from the long trip or the empty feeling the toast had caused, dug a serving spoon into the mashed potatoes. The teachers around him began to strike up conversations with one another. Harry felt uncomfortable, but continued to eat in silence. He felt the familiar feeling of being watched. He looked up and caught the eye of Snape, who quickly looked away. Dumbledore, who was sitting next to Snape and had seen the exchange, leaned forward and whispered something to him. Snape's lip curled and he made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat and rapidly moved away from the older man as though in fear of catching something. Dumbledore let out a knowing chuckle. Harry stared. They were talking about him! What had Dumbledore said? Snape gave him one final glare, and then turned his attention to his plate. Harry felt rather disappointed without really knowing why, and also looked down at his plate. The rest of the meal passed without any spectacular event.
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The next morning, Harry awoke freely, not needing any horrifying dream to stir him. After spending several minutes nestling in the covers, Harry forced himself to get up and take a shower. Once hygiene was taken care of, Harry put on the same jeans he had on yesterday with another Weasley sweater (the first one with the letter 'H' on it). His stomach grumbled, telling him it was time to head to breakfast. Harry walked to the door and snuck a small glance at the mirror over the dresser in the corner. He couldn't help but sigh gloomily; he still looked boyish, on the brink of 15, in his knitted sweater and jeans. The other boys in his dorm would probably look like towers when he saw them again. Harry wasn't as short as he had been, but he was still shorter and thinner than the average teenage boy, and Harry couldn't help but feel that he looked rather – well, girlish. His eyes were too big, his eyelashes too thick, his neck was too long (Harry shuddered, realizing that Petunia also had a long neck; it must be a family thing), his waist was too skinny, his legs were too long, his knees – let's not even get started on the knees (God, how he hated those knobby knees!). And on top of all that, he noticed that his hair was getting a bit long. Quite a few strands were now long enough to tuck behind his ears or twirl around his finger, and several fell in front of his eyes. He shook his head to get them out of the way, and then continued on his way to the door, shaking himself. There was no need to be so concerned with his looks; it's not like anyone would want to look anyway.
Harry managed to get to the Great Hall without running into anybody or falling down the stairs. He was grateful that breakfast could be served whenever you wanted it, so that he wouldn't have to sit with all the other teachers. Not that he didn't like them; it just felt weird, with all of those older, smarter people around you. It was even weirder when Harry realized that he didn't know about half of the teachers Hogwarts had. It was something to work on.
Once Harry had gotten himself settled in a seat (No one was with him), he reached for a slice of toast and syrup. 'Some things never change,' he thought. Even though he wasn't at the Dursleys anymore, his habit of eating a very small breakfast hadn't wavered, although the Dursleys never let him eat toast soaking with syrup. He raised the dripping piece of bread to his mouth, and just as he had taken a bite, he heard a loud groan.
"Potter! What are you doing here?"
Harry choked on his toast and quickly reached for a napkin to wipe away the syrup. It was Snape. He must eat breakfast at this time too. Wonderful…
"I'm eating breakfast, Professor," Harry said mock-innocently. "Is there a problem with that?"
Snape sneered at him, but continued walking towards the table and sat down across from him. "More like masticating your breakfast than eating it," Don't blush, don't blush! "And yes, there is a problem. I don't particularly enjoy mornings, therefore your existence here makes it even less enjoyable." He said bitingly as he poured tea into a cup.
Harry scowled.
"I'm not changing when I eat breakfast jut so you don't have to look at me," he said, glaring. "If I'm so awful to look at then sit in another seat!"
"I didn't say you were unpleasant to look at, Potter. I said your existence here is less than appreciated.
Harry glared some more, but then what Snape said sunk in. His eyebrows rose and his mouth dropped.
"What did you say?"
"I said your existence-"
"No, before that!" Harry couldn't believe he was having this conversation. A flashback of what Snape had said in the car to that boy…. "I don't prefer to have sex with other men while in different cars." Oh my god! Was Snape gay?
"I don't recall what I said before that, Potter." Snape said with sudden indifference. He took a sip from his tea and picked up his fork.
Harry couldn't believe that. Snape could remember every potion ingredient in the world and what they were used for, and he couldn't remember what he had just said? No way! Harry stared, dumbfounded, as Snape began to eat scrambled eggs without even glancing at him. Harry watched for a few more seconds before sighing in defeat and slouching in his chair.
"Glad to see you've finished gawking." Snape muttered in between bites.
"I wasn't gawking." Harry said back.
"Hmmm."
Hmmm? That's all he could say? Even though Snape hadn't actually said anything, by just saying hmmm, he made Harry feel even smaller than before.
God I hate him.
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After breakfast, Harry's head was filled with questions and what-ifs and half finished thoughts about Snape. He decided that since his head was so full with actual, constructive thinking, that he should take the opportunity to get some work done. After fetching several books from his room, he headed to the library. Dumbledore had said he could go there.
Harry pushed open the double doors and looked around. He could hear someone working and what sounded like pages ruffling. Suddenly, Madam Pince appeared from behind the first book shelf.
"So, you've decided to work in here, have you?" she said with narrowed eyes.
"Erm, yes." Harry might not come to the library to work that much, but he was well acquainted with it through Hermione, and had concluded that Madam Pince was like a mother hen and her chicks were all the books. She was almost obsessive when it came to her library and Harry knew that she was best approached by someone who acted submissive.
"Well? Go on then, what is it you want?" she snapped impatiently.
"Er, you see, I need a book on potions using human blood…" she raised a silver eyebrow at that. "It's for potions homework." He explained quickly.
"Ah. Over here then," She turned on her heel and led him through rows of books that were re-shelving themselves and fighting over their places. It was quite something to see two books hitting each other with their covers. Madam Pince stopped and scanned the shelves.
"Here we are." Madam Pince said triumphantly. She pulled out a thick, blood red (appropriate for the topic) volume and held it in front of him. Harry reached for it, but she pulled it away.
"Now, I'm not going to give you a specific due date, but it must be back before school reopens." Harry nodded. "And if I find out that you've ripped, teared, shredded, folded, defaced, disfigured-" Harry waited patiently for her to finish her rant. It was the same rant that was imprinted into every book the library held, and Madam Pince seemed to love to say it out loud. "Smeared, smudged, through, dropped, or in any other manner damaged, mistreated, or shown lack of respect towards this book, the consequences will be as awful as it is within my power to make them." She gave a smile bordering on an evil smirk, as though she was imagining those consequences. "Is that understood?"
Harry nodded.
"Good." She barked. She held out the book for Harry and he took it. It was very heavy. Madam Pince walked away from him abruptly, and Harry placed the book into his shoulder bag; he decided that he would read this in his rooms.
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Several hours later, after lunch, Harry had picked a potion that he wanted to attempt. He had opened the book and found, to his dismay, that the names of the potions and the descriptions of what happens when you take the potion were entirely in Latin, but he figured he'd be able to find words that resembled English ones. He knew that English had some Latin words in it, with roots and stems and things like that. It took a while to find a potion that had a word similar to any that he knew, but he finally found one. It was called 'The Comperio Animus' potion. It sounded like it had something to do with animals. Harry had been most keen to do this potion because all of the ingredients he had left over from last year were in the potion, and he thankfully had enough.
Harry dragged out his cauldron from his trunk and hung it on the hook in the fireplace. It would be difficult to stir it, but it would have to do; Harry hadn't seen Dumbledore yet that day and still hadn't asked permission to use magic, or otherwise he would have made a magical fire.
After about an hour, Harry had finally added the last ingredient. Now all he needed was the blood. Harry was a little hesitant about this part, but was determined to finish; he really wanted to prove he could do this. He picked up his cutting knife and pricked his finger. It hurt a lot, but that made sense because the finger is one of the most sensitive parts of the body besides the lips. Harry held his finger over the cauldron and let five drops fall into the boiling surface. The potion had been a dull blue up until now, but as the last drop fell in, it suddenly blazed white. Harry sighed in relief. That meant he had done it right. The picture in the book showed a white potion; thank god the book was illustrated. Now what did he do?
Harry consulted the page in the book again. He didn't have a clue what it said, but there was a picture of a man drinking the potion. It showed bright light around him. Maybe the potion would turn him into an animal! That would be cool. But, how would he turn back? Harry ran to his desk in another corner and scribbled a note saying what had happened. It read that he had made a potion that turned him into whatever he was now. Harry figured that he could carry the note to a teacher in whatever animal form he was.
Harry walked back over the simmering potion and picked up the glass he found in the bathroom. He dipped a spoon into the white concoction and poured it into the glass. It felt very cool considering that it was still simmering.
"Well, here goes nothing," Harry muttered. He tilted his head back and swallowed the potion in one gulp. He could feel it sliding down his throat, leaving an icy feeling behind. Harry gasped as the feeling spread to his chest. It almost felt like a liquid chill was wrapping around his heart. Harry fell to his knees and he vaguely thought that this wasn't such a good idea. That was the last conscience thought he had. White light seemed to pour out of him, and Harry fell to the ground unconscious. He didn't see the white light turn into what looked like wispy, foggy fingers and he didn't see the fog pour out of him and make a trail out of the room, and he didn't see the fingers wrap around a certain Potions Master on his way to dinner. Severus Snape gave a startled shout as the milky fog wrapped around him and then sank right into his body. He felt a tremor race through him, and he too, fell to the floor unconscious. That was how Albus Dumbledore found him on his way to dinner.
TBC
So, what did you think? I won't know what to do if you all don't tell me, so review! Hey, did you like all the Harry/ Severus banter? I did!!!! And what did Dumbledore say? Hell, I'm the author and I don't now what he said! And I think I finally got the link right! Last time I wrote it, but when I checked my update, it wasn't there, which was weird, so let me know if it's there. This is what Harry sees in the mirror when he's evaluating himself. Hey, I don't have a problem with how he looks at all! the credit for this goes to impishie! This artist is amazing!
P.S. In the story, Harry's birthday is coming up soon! Should Sev give him a present? If so, what should it be, I need suggestions!