Chapter 21 - Potions with a Capital "P", Part 2
Tuesday in Potions, Harry waited impatiently for his essay to be returned. Greer strode back to the front of the room without returning it, but having returned everyone else's. Hermione gave him a wide-eyed look. He raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?" she drawled.
"I didn't get my essay back, Professor," Harry pointed out in the nicest voice he could manage.
"See me after class, Mr. Potter," she said in a stiff tone he didn't recognize.
Harry made it through class and brewing, but just barely. Greer seemed downright predatory today as she stalked around the room. She was too chubby to slither the way Snape used to, but she still managed. Her long fingernails tapped on the bench tops as she circled. At Harry's table, they all made faces of dismay at each other when her back was turned.
Finally the bell rang and everyone packed up and departed for lunch. Harry packed his bookbag and left it on the bench.
"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Harry asked. She hadn't looked up at him so he had been forced to walk up to her desk.
"Do you know the penalty for cheating in this school, Mr. Potter?"
Harry shrugged. "How does that matter, ma'am?"
Anger came through now. She had his essay in her hand, crumpled a bit. "Excessive assistance constitutes cheating, Mr. Potter," she announced in a victorious tone.
"I didn't get any help with that," Harry argued, pointing at the parchment.
"Don't lie to me; I can see right through you, my boy."
"Right." Harry said as he thought, you haven't seen anything about seeing through people.
"Who helped you with this?" she demanded. "Or need I not ask?"
"No one helped me with it," Harry repeated.
She huffed. "We'll see about that." She came around her desk and headed for the door. "Follow me," she ordered.
"Where are we going?"
"To see the headmaster. There are some other things he should be made aware of as well, I should think." She sounded righteous, much like Aunt Petunia often did.
Harry, thinking of Dumbledore not needing an interruption of his quiet contemplation, said, "I don't think it is worth bothering the headmaster for, ma'am. How about Professor McGonagall? She's the deputy headmistress."
They were going along the ground floor corridor now. "And your Head of House," Greer countered smartly.
"She has always been very impartial," Harry insisted.
Even though his legs didn't look any shorter than hers, he had to half-jog to keep up. She didn't respond to that assertion. Harry was out of breath when they made it to the far side of the second floor. She gave the password and the gargoyle leapt aside. Harry protested again, "I really don't think-"
She grabbed the collar of his robe and dragged him into the turning staircase. Harry was too startled to do more than regain his balance. Same as with Mulciber, she had him beat easily if he couldn't use magic. At the top, Greer barely waited for an invitation to her knock before opening the door. She pulled Harry in behind her, only letting go when they stood before the headmaster's desk.
Dumbledore glanced calmly up at them. He sat writing a letter it looked like, with his glasses perched on his nose.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Greer began a bit pompously, "I have a number of problems with this student to discuss with you."
Dumbledore looked curiously at Harry as the latter straightened his robes from having his collar twisted. "Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore intoned.
"Good morning, Albus," Harry greeted him back. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at that. Greer seemed rather startled by it, to Harry's no small satisfaction.
"Now, Gertie, what is your concern?" Dumbledore asked as he put his quill aside, blotted, and rolled up the letter.
"First off, I must say this boy is treated far too casually and leniently by your staff."
Dumbledore slipped his spectacles off and folded them slowly. "Well, you will have to forgive us for that, as we are very appreciative of having Voldemort gone." She sniffed a bit doubtfully, making Dumbledore elaborate, "If you had been one of the ones who were duped completely and drawn away from the school just when the students needed us the most, and upon realizing this, imagined the absolute worst, only to return to find Mr. Potter here standing over Voldemort's remains and the rest of his club students incarcerating his followers. We perhaps have gone a little soft on him. If we start to forget, we only need consider that the alternative outcome would have been utterly tragic." He gave Harry an affectionate glance before he sat straighter and went on, "Nevertheless, if there is a problem to be addressed, we will by all means do so." He favored her with a questioning expression.
Greer geared up her anger again as she pulled out Harry's essay. "Mr. Potter is receiving undue assistance on his assignments."
"I did not!"
"Harry," Dumbledore said in a firm tone. "You will get your turn."
Harry bit his lips as Greer went on. "I do not like my students receiving assistance on assignments that are used to determine a final grade. I have the records of his previous grades in Potions, they are marginal at best. It is not possible that he is capable of the work he is turning in as his own, yet he persists in lying about getting help. I am especially disappointed that it is presumably another staff member who is giving him said assistance."
She held out the essay, but Dumbledore waved it off.
Greer continued in a lower tone, "As well, I have observed what I believe to be an inappropriate relationship involving Mr. Potter and a member of your staff, which I am certain is outside the bounds of school regulations."
Harry stared at her now, trying to catch up. He was starting to suspect that she wasn't after him, but Snape. Dumbledore's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Harry, do you have a response to that?"
Harry mentally backed up. "I haven't had any more assistance on my assignments than normal. Hermione reads my essays over when she has time and notes things she thinks are wrong. She doesn't say how to fix it, though, so I don't consider it cheating and neither have any of the other teachers. I haven't had any help from a teacher with any of my Potions essays."
"Potter, you can't honestly expect me to believe you wrote this!" she held the essay out to him.
"I did," Harry insisted. "As to Professor Greer's second allegation, I'm not sure what she's referring to."
"Your grades took a very interesting turn upward the last two months of the previous year, Mr. Potter."
"I was studying harder."
"Don't play coy with me." Her voice dropped even lower, unimaginably low, as she pointed at the door with his rolled up essay. "I saw you in my office last Saturday. I'm certain you didn't know I was there." Harry shook his head and thought fiercely back to the weekend brewing session while she grinned happily at his discomfort.
"Harry?" Dumbledore prompted.
"I honestly don't know what she is referring to, sir. I spent twenty minutes or so helping Professor Snape with some potions."
"Potter," she said as though he assumed she was stupid. "He had his hand on your back as he explained the potions to you, and he stood much closer than would ever be appropriate in my experience, anyway."
Harry gave her a studious look. He was a little embarrassed, mostly because he knew Snape would not want Dumbledore to hear this.
Dumbledore stood up and paced slowly behind his desk, rocking side to side more than walking, as though he were stiff. "Professor, if you will allow me to address these issues in the order of their seriousness."
She became all prim again. "Of course, Headmaster."
"When I hired you to teach Potions, we both agreed that since you had not taught in seven years, and not so many classes at once, that it would be best if you were not also burdened with the duties of Potions master."
Flustered, Greer stammered, "Yes sir, but-"
Dumbledore held up his hand to forestall her. Harry grinned and ducked his head. He really did love Dumbledore.
"If you have changed your mind or are feeling as though your territory is being invaded, you should have come to me to re-negotiate."
"That doesn't have anything to do with this," she insisted, gesturing at Harry with the parchment essay.
"Ah, but it does, I believe," he countered kindly.
Greer's mouth twisted to the side as she took that in.
"Harry, perhaps you should explain . . . " Dumbledore was giving him a look that Harry read as, see what happens when you keep things to yourself?
Harry sighed and said, "Professor Snape is my d- . . . guardian." Dumbledore gave him a sharp, amused look at that. "He adopted me," Harry added, a little rattled by his near slip.
After a long stare Greer breathed, "You aren't serious?"
"I witnessed the papers myself," the headmaster supplied. "Was there anything in what you saw that exceeded the bounds of a parent-child relationship?"
Harry rolled his eyes uneasily. Greer muttered in barely audible speech, "No, not at all."
Dumbledore retook his seat. "As to the allegations of cheating, I suggest you ask Professor Snape how much, if any, help he provided on the assignment. Good day, Professor," he said dismissively. With a smile he said more brightly, "Good day, Harry."
At the bottom of the tower, Greer thrust the rolled parchment at him. "Get it signed off by Professor Snape that you didn't receive any help. Then I'll mark it." She stalked off.
Harry used a flattening charm on his essay to take out worst of the wrinkles, then re-rolled it carefully. His bag was still in the dungeon; he would have to retrieve it before lunch ended. He went around the corner just in case Snape was in his office. He wasn't, but the classroom door was open. A peek inside verified that Snape was cleaning up from the previous class. Bits of wood disappeared from the floor with a Banishing Charm as Harry stepped in and closed the door.
"Harry," Snape greeted him when he looked up.
"I need to have you sign something," Harry said. "And to warn you that Greer has it in for you."
"I am already aware of that," Snape commented easily as Harry stepped over to him.
"Did you know she was in her office last Saturday?" Harry asked. Snape shook his head with a thoughtful expression. He took the parchment Harry held out as he explained in a annoyed way, "She insists that you sign that you didn't help with it. Otherwise she won't give me a mark on it." Harry watched in mild trepidation as Snape's eyes scanned the first section of the essay. "She dragged me up to Dumbledore's office just now to accuse me of cheating," he said to fill the ongoing silence. When Snape went on reading, Harry, with growing concern, insisted, "You don't need to mark it too—just sign it."
"You did a good job on this," Snape commented. "Greer gives remarkably difficult essay assignments and could not have given you much time to finish this as it is only the third week of classes." He carried the essay, while still reading, over to the desk to pull out a quill. "Reyfrem is not a reagent," he said.
Harry glanced over his shoulder. "I said that wrong. I was pretty tired when I wrote that part."
"The entire class must be tired."
"No one else got that assignment," Harry said. "Everyone else had: describe the seven kinds of bezoar-based potions."
Snape looked up at that with an intense expression. "And you didn't complain?"
"I thought she was trying to get to me. I would have, if I'd known she was trying to get to you, by giving me an assignment she was certain you'd have to help with."
Snape quickly read over the rest of it. He pulled out his wand and obliterated the erroneous line. "Rewrite that and I'll sign it," he said, pushing the parchment over to Harry.
Harry laughed and shook his head. He crouched so he could write normally in the blank space and repaired the miswritten line. "I'm only doing this because I did know better, just didn't write it out very well."
"Of course, Harry," Snape stated patronizingly. He took the parchment back and added a line across the entire bottom edge of Harry's text and wrote just below it, No assistance provided, with his signature. As Harry rolled it up again, Snape said, "If I were you, I would insist it count as the mid-term."
"You think so?"
"Yes. I am impressed, Harry. Makes me think I didn't challenge you enough."
"Oh, you did," Harry strongly insisted, garnering a small smile from his guardian.
Essay in hand, Harry went back to the dungeon to collect his bag. The classroom was empty. He knocked on the office door and was told to enter.
"My assignment, Professor," Harry announced levelly. He brought it up to the desk and set it there. She kept writing in her log book with her quill, her grey roots showing in her thin scalp. She didn't look up. Instead she waved him off. Harry turned and started back to the door. Peeved at her silent dismissal of things, he turned at the door and said, "Professor, if you think you know how to see through people, you should look up Legilimency in the library next time you are there."
She gave him a withering look. "Did I ask for your advice, Mr. Potter? I am quite certain I didn't."
"I'll keep the second part of it to myself then, ma'am, which was listing the staff who know it. It is no matter to me. Good day, Professor," Harry finished in a calm, level voice that he thought even Dumbledore would be proud of.
- 888 -
Breakfast was Harry's favorite meal, usually. This particular morning, however, it wasn't going as well. There was a lot more whispering and glances his way than normal. Much more. Students were passing around copies of what looked like the Prophet, and reading avidly. Harry tried not to look too alarmed by this as he reached for the honey.
Hermione was eating calmly and reading her own copy with her normal consumed expression. Harry resisted the strong urge to jerk it out of her hands. Torturous, long minutes passed as he tried to eat, tried to listen to the whispering, and waited for the paper.
Justin swept behind and hit him on the shoulder. "Hey, Harry," he said meaningfully.
"Huh?" Harry asked him.
"You don't have to explain," Justin said in a false sympathy as he stepped to his table. Harry resisted glancing at the head table, but just barely.
Luna stopped by next. "Really," she said, sounding disappointed in him.
"What?" Harry asked her. His uneven heartbeat was struggling with the notion that the reactions were just a little off from what he feared.
"Oh, this," Hermione said, grabbing Harry's attention. He swallowed and waited as she read something on the back page. She shook her head in confusion and with a dubious look, handed the paper over to Harry.
This reporter is hearing rumors that a certain wizard hero is in a family way. More to follow when verification can be obtained.
It was Skeeter's gossip column on the back page. "Family way?" Harry asked aloud, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Everyone around him broke out laughing.
"Who's the lucky girl, Harry?" Ginny asked suggestively, then flickered her eyelashes at him. They all giggled again.
"No one," Harry snapped, tossing the paper back on the table. "Argh," he breathed. Even Hermione could not resist laughing. Harry shook his head and finally managed to eat some of his cold breakfast. Skeeter was getting close though; he really didn't know how much longer he had to work things out his own way, whatever that way was.
- 888 -
After Herbology that afternoon, Harry watched Ron's and Hermione's backs as they disappeared into the rose garden, engrossed in conversation. This left Harry free to visit his guardian. He had a question about his Potions reading as well that he would much rather ask of Snape.
In the second floor corridor, Harry paused outside the door because Malfoy was inside. He looked to be having something explained to him, but it wasn't something out of their class textbook.
"I expect to finish this one next week," Malfoy was saying in what must be his Best Boy voice. "Which one should I order to read next? This book refers to another by Brutus Brindlestiff. Do you know of it?"
Shit, Harry thought, what is Snape teaching him? He had a flash of the future: him as an Auror facing off with a Malfoy armed with spells Snape had taught him. While he waited his shoulder tired, so he set his bag down beside the door. Malfoy noticed this and gave him that sly smile again. Harry leaned against the doorframe and waited patiently. Snape suggested a different book and gave Malfoy a slip with an address from which to obtain it.
The blonde boy slunk over to Harry. "Need extra help, Potter?" he asked snidely.
"No," Harry replied in an almost friendly tone, refusing to be baited. They passed close in the doorway.
"Come in, Mr. Potter," Snape said as he arranged a small stack of parchments on his desk. He glanced up at Malfoy and added, "and close the door."
Harry froze at that and at the dark look Malfoy was now giving him. The scene Greer had caused in the headmaster's office played through his mind. "Uh . . ." he started. Malfoy actually looked furious now as he glanced between them. Harry held the door open and said to the Slytherin boy. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
Malfoy's pale eyes looked him over in silent, disapproving appraisal.
Harry stepped closer to him and dove in. "How about the truth?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape's head come up sharply. He glanced that way. "Trust me," Harry explained.
Snape rested his chin on the back of his fingers and considered them both. "Mr. Malfoy does know how to keep things to himself," Snape stated in a oddly mild tone, leading Harry to wonder what he had on Malfoy. "Sit down, Harry. Mr. Malfoy, step in and close the door."
After Harry took a seat, Snape sighed and considered him in consternation a moment. Harry gave him a shrug. "Potter has apparently seen something here that I did not," Snape said. "Perhaps because you have been competing only against yourself, Mr. Malfoy, even though you didn't recognize it. To save you further effort and . . ." Here he looked over at Harry in question. " . . . to address something Mr. Potter is concerned about, I should tell you that I have adopted Mr. Potter."
Malfoy's mouth fell open. "What?" he finally breathed after long seconds of empty expression. He spun on his heel and paced a bit, actually whimpering once as he turned. After a few times across the floor he stepped over to Harry. "No wonder I couldn't bait you at all. It was taking all the fun out of it, frankly."
Harry chuckled silently and grinned at the other boy. Malfoy made a noise of despair and put his hand over his eyes a bit theatrically, although Harry expected he meant it. Finally he put his arm down and said to his teacher, "Is that all, sir?" in a rather worn tone.
Snape, fighting a grin, replied, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy."
At the door Malfoy stopped. "I couldn't tell the House that, sir. I'm not that cruel," he said before he left.
When the door closed, Snape gave Harry, who was still trying not to laugh, a questioning look. "I assume there was reason for that."
"There was," Harry insisted. "Haven't you noticed Greer is off your back?"
Snape raised a brow. "I did."
Harry sighed. "Let's just say that when she dragged me up to Dumbledore, she was pretty certain she had you gone." He watched Snape take that in before he added, "I really didn't feel like going through that again." Harry smiled again and quipped happily, "It is fun to beat Malfoy at anything, though. And to make him miserable."
"Was there something specific you wanted?" Snape asked slowly with a hint of dismay. "Or are you just visiting?"
Harry reached for his bag. "I did have have a Potions question, if you don't mind. But it's mostly a visit."
Snape accepted Harry's notes with a long exhale that implied he was trying hard to be tolerant. Harry laughed lightly, not buying it.
