Rated R for swearing, violence, and suicide (and/or suicide-related issues). If this offends anyone, don't read. Thought I'd add that I own nadda. All characters, names and related indicia are property of J.K. Rowling. I am merely trying to share some of her goodness in a non-illegal way. :)
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Chapter 2: Rivals
It became somewhat apparent to Harry's friends just how much of a change the past few years had wrought in him. At least...they thought they knew. Of course they were all worried about him, but nobody touched on anything as far as speaking to him about it. Hermione was the only exception, however, although what she said was very carefully worded.
Ron didn't tell Harry what he saw when he'd spied him on the windowsill that night; he was sure that that knowledge would certainly embarrass Harry. It saddened Ron beyond words, however, because knowing now what kind of grief must be inside his best friend...he felt powerless to help him. What he needed was someone to talk to - someone older - who knew even a little bit of the pain Harry had inside him.
The ceiling of the Great Hall was dark and stormy-looking. The wind outside carried the scent of rain and beat upon the school as though it was trying to force the building to the ground. The weather had been like this since school began.
The three sat among their chattering classmates, eating a more or less silent breakfast. Harry was sleepily picking at his egg, Ron had gorged on sausages, pancakes, steak and fruit (and was now trying to locate his timetable), and Hermione's head was buried in a copy of The Daily Prophet.
"I should subscribe to that newspaper," Harry thought aloud. "Just to give Hedwig something to do. I haven't seen her since the start of term."
Ron squirmed about in his pockets for a little longer and emerged, holding up a slightly crumpled piece of parchment. "Found the sodding thing!" he announced happily.
"Honestly, Ron," Hermione sighed, looking hopelessly at him over the top of the front page. "I don't know why you couldn't just ask Harry if you could borrow his...you both have the same classes."
Ron scowled at her as she retreated back behind the paper. "Sorry, Harry," he muttered. "Did you hear something squeaking...?"
Hermione's paper rattled.
"Double potions," Ron moaned. "D.A.D.A...not bad...and Charms. Great. If Snape dies or something before class starts, this could really be a good day."
Harry laughed for the first time in a long while.
"Well, really," continued Ron. "He's been a bigger prat this year than all the year's combined, if that's possible..."
Harry looked down at his lap, still smirking, fully understanding why. Instead of taking his anger out on only Harry, it seemed he had targeted the whole of Gryffindor house.
"We'd better not be doing vanishing Potions again this year," Ron muttered darkly, taking a swig of his pumpkin juice. "I'm horrible with those."
"You think you are?" piped Neville from a little further down the table. "And that Sleeping Draught he had us make on Friday!! He said it was supposed to be clear and syrup-like...mine was green..."
Ron laughed. "Remember mine? Burst into flame when I added the hops and started overflowing all over the floor?"
Hermione folded up her paper, smiling. "I've got to run," she said. "I have to stop at the library to return a book before class, so I'll meet you down there." She stood up, swung her book bag onto her shoulder, and walked briskly out of the Great Hall.
Ron downed his glass of pumpkin juice and studied Harry. "You all right?"
"Yeah," Harry answered. "Fine."
Ron gestured towards the door. "Should we head down, then?" Get seats at the back?"
"Good idea," Harry said, stretching. "Being as far away from Snape as possible would be good today." He honestly didn't want to head down this early because Draco and his cronies weren't at breakfast, which meant that they were either out harassing a first year or already down at the dungeons. He rose, however, and followed Ron out into the Entrance Hall and down the stairs to the dungeon levels.
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Snape surveyed the silent class, his eyes narrowed. "I am thoroughly disgusted. I would have thought that sixth year potions students would produce better results than what was handed into me on Friday." He stopped and looked around the room again. His glare fixed itself on Harry, who slightly flinched as though it had stung him. Snape's lip curled unpleasantly and Harry knew his sample of Sleeping Draught probably hadn't been any better than Neville's...although it hadn't turned green.
"As I have said numerous times before," Snape went on. "I only accept the very best into my N.E.W.T classes. Apparently my words have fallen on thoroughly moronic ears. That assignment was abysmal and there was no excuse for it to be so. Only a select few of you would be lucky if I even considered taking you into my studies next year."
Hermione looked very pleased with herself, but slightly wary nonetheless. Ron had stopped listening to Snape's usual speech and was doodling the Chudley Cannons logo onto his potions book. Across the room, Draco seemed to be showing Crabbe something very amusing, for their shoulders were shaking in silent laughter.
"As such," Snape said, smirking slightly. "I think it would be best if we all tried the Sleeping Draughts one more time."
Neville looked terrified.
"Instructions are, once again, one the board, - " Snape flicked his wand irritably where they appeared. - "You have two hours. Begin. And woe betide any of you who fail."
Harry reluctantly began setting up his cauldron. Nobody dared to moan or protest, and followed suit.
"What a wanker," Hermione sighed. Ron and Harry looked at her in surprise. "What?" she said, spreading her arms out wide. "I did everything perfectly on Friday, and he's making me do it again! I mean, I can understand giving someone like Neville another go at it, but..."
Ron snorted. "I didn't know you were capable of words like that, Hermione."
Harry smiled and went to go rummage around in the storage cupboard. He was glad not to be learning something else today...most likely it would have been something very difficult, and his brain didn't seem to want to function properly. He dug out the required ingredients and returned to the table at the back he shared with his friends. Hermione had already lit the fire beneath hers and was adding the first powdered herbs.
That's when Snape arrived. Another girl from Slytherin that they did not know was with him. "You two," he said dangerously, beckoning to Harry and Hermione. "Come with me."
Ron looked at them in mild disclosure.
Snape led the three into the corner at the back of the room where the door to his office stood. For one wild moment Harry thought they were being punished for something, but then Snape declared the opposite.
"You three produced...excellent...Sleeping Draughts on Friday. There really is no need for you to do it again."
"Really?" Hermione breathed. "Oh, good..."
"Be quiet," Snape hissed. Hermione looked at her feet.
The Slytherin girl glanced at Harry in surprise. "Him, sir? But...he never does that well in your class. I mean, he took Remedial Potions last year."
"I am aware of it," Snape replied icily, his eyes boring into Harry like daggers. "He got lucky this time, I'd wager...I wasn't able to find anything wrong to deduct marks for in his potion, unfortunately."
Harry's cheeks grew hot. Snape sniggered. "You all may leave my class for today," he went on, straightening up to his full height. "But you," he caught the sleeve of Harry's robes. "I want a word with."
Snape waited for the two girls to fade from earshot before he spoke. He looked at Harry as though appalled that he'd just had to touch him. "Professor Dumbledore...insists that I continue Occlumency lessons with you this year."
Harry groaned, his insides turning to lead.
"Precisely," whispered his professor. "I very much agree. At this moment I would rather be instructing dear Neville than wasting my evenings with you."
"And that sounds like a great alternative for me," Harry responded. "Because I'm not exactly enjoying myself, either."
Snape sneered. "You're exactly like your father...and now you know that that's nothing to be proud of."
"And you're feeling sorry for yourself," Harry shot back. "So you have no alternative but to act like the world's biggest prat to anyone who crosses your path."
"My point exactly," Snape hissed. "James had such a big head and it would seem as though he's passed it on to you...spoiled and insolent little - "
"In case you hadn't noticed," Harry said coldly. "Nobody liked you then, and nobody likes you now, Professor. Or has that never occurred to you before?"
Snape looked murderous.
"Sorry," Harry interrupted in mock surprise. "Have I touched a nerve?"
"Fifty points from Gryffindor," Snape spat. "And a week's detention starting tonight. Here at six o'clock and no later, or you will be sorry. Now get the hell out of my sight."
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Harry knew he shouldn't have flown off the hook in Snape's class, but every time he saw the man he had half a mind to flog him. Snape was always busy hurdling insults at Harry anyway, so Harry was always guaranteed a boiling temper, whether he tried to control it or not. Nonetheless, he found himself storming out of potions (followed by hisses and jeers from the Slytherins), and stalking angrily up to Gryffindor tower. Obviously it was deserted; Hermione must have gone to the library. Rays of sunlight filtered in from the windows, giving the room the impression that it was underwater.
Harry threw his book bag across the room where it smashed into a table and fell behind it. Great. Now he had to lie flat on his belly and fish it out with the poker from the fireplace. Once that was done, he slumped into a chair and tried to calm down, his anger pulsating through him like wildfire.
"Lousy git," he said furiously to himself, plucking at the sparse pieces of fluff that were beginning to come out of the armrest. He knew he shouldn't be letting Snape get to him like this. He also knew that, because Snape was in the Order, he should be at least trying to get along better with the potions master. It was so damn hard, though...hating him was easier.
Harry stood up. Suddenly he was very bored.
Pacing the room and thinking of what he could possibly do with his remaining hour (that didn't involve libraries or doing homework), he glanced out of one of the windows and saw Hagrid sitting on the stairs of his hut, accompanied by none other than Professor Dumbledore. Since Hagrid didn't appear to have a class, Harry thought he'd go down and see him.
It was fairly warm out and the sun had decided to make an appearance...
The two were talking quietly as Harry approached, and both looked up in surprise once they knew it was him. The talking ceased abruptly.
"Blimey, Harry," Hagrid said. "Shouldn't yeh be in class?"
"Probably," Harry answered, smiling slightly at the half-giant. "Snape and I - "
"Hmmm," Dumbledore murmured, the merest hint of disapproval in his eyes. "Did Professor Snape talk to you about Occlumency, Harry? I'd spoken to him earlier about it and - "
Harry glared at the Headmaster, as though blaming all his unhappiness on him. "Yes."
" - I said that, although you two have differences," the old wizard continued. "Vast differences...you really need to be overcoming them. I know something happened between you and Professor Snape last year that might have jeopardized any hopes of friendship, but Harry, this is important."
Hagrid got up and disappeared inside his hut, muttering about needing to make more tea.
Harry blushed and looked at his feet. "I know it is, Sir."
Dumbledore gave him an almost appraising look; his blue eyes seemed to penetrate the young wizard standing before him. "Please, Harry. Try to make an effort with this man. Try to get along with him. Arguing like this will do nothing to help your situation."
"How can I?" gasped Harry, incredulous. "He hates me!"
"Yes, well, the name of Potter hasn't sat quite well with Severus Snape for many long years," Dumbledore said quietly. His midnight blue robes swished softly as he stood up. Harry had forgotten how tall he was.
Hagrid came out and sat back on the stairs gingerly, looking from one person to the other. A slight tremor ran though the stones. "Professor," he said gruffly, making Harry jump slightly. "Would yeh like more tea, then?"
"No, no, Hagrid, I think I'll go back up to the school," Dumbledore said, arranging his silvery beard. "But thank you." He looked at Harry and smiled. Harry didn't know what to do, and when the old man began walking back up the grounds, Harry was left staring at his back.
Hagrid looked at the boy. "Well now, no use just standing there. Come sit down." He patted the empty space next to him, creating several hairline cracks in the stone. Harry obliged. "Something ter drink, then?"
"No."
"Oh, come on," Hagrid persisted, holding out a steaming mug.
"Thanks," Harry replied.
They both sat in stony silence for a while, looking out at the grounds. Occasionally a few rays of sunlight would shine longingly through the clouds ("They cover so fast," Harry thought), but for the most part it had gotten very gloomy outside. The lake looked black as ink and the water was choppy, as a strong wind was beginning to blow.
"Bad start-of-term this year, eh Harry?"
Harry looked up into his friends' eyes, almost concealed by the amounts of bushy hair surrounding his kind face. They were full of concern.
"You could say that, yeah," Harry said grudgingly, watching the last bit of Dumbledore disappear inside the castle.
Hagrid heaved a very deep sigh. "I can understand," he said softly. "Some people are just out fer themselves...and they chew up anyone in their path. Not carin'. The injustice some to ter yeh...it ain't right." He looked down at Harry. "But you always bounce back, don't yeh?"
Harry grimaced. Tried to smile. "Apparently."
"Yes, well," Hagrid went on. "There's only so much bouncing back yeh can do before yeh've had enough."
A dozen or so crows flew past the hut.
"All I'm sayin', Harry, is be careful. If there's something inside yeh that's really hurtin', if something inside yeh is really wrong...then don't ignore it. Come see me. See Dumbledore. See anyone...just don't ignore it."
"Mmmm," Harry murmured, trying to give Hagrid the hint that the current conversation was making him uncomfortable.
"So," Hagrid said awkwardly after some quiet length. "Did uh...Professor Snape give yeh detention, then?"
"'Course," the black-haired boy replied irritably, gripping his mug so hard his knuckles turned white. "He'll do anything to deduct points and give out detentions, won't he? Has he always been this big of a prat?"
Hagrid chuckled. "I never really talk to 'em," he said gruffly, looking down into his tea. "He isn't the most popular person here. Is really bitter to anyone who gets in his way. Studies like a madman though, even though he's a professor..."
Harry smiled. He thought for a moment. "Hagrid...did you ever...talk to my mum and dad before they died? I mean, you were in the Order before and everything..."
The half-giant looked at Harry with pity in his eyes. He put a massive hand on his back and sighed. "Oh yeah," he said. He took a swig of tea. "Lily was a beautiful person. Really friendly. James was quite a laugh, too...had a great sense of humour."
"I guess," Harry replied quickly. He was starting to feel hopeless again. He put his mug of tea down on the steps and stood up. "I have to go, Hagrid."
Hagrid looked a little hurt. "All right."
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