DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
"Today you will be learning the first of a number of maintenance potions that you will be using for the rest of your time in my classroom," announced Snape as he threw open the doors to a large wooden storage cabinet. He continued to speak at them as he traced his wand over the page of a large tome on his desk.
"Today's lesson will be the brewing of an advanced scouring solution which you will be needing in the upcoming weeks when you attempt your first Binding Broth and fail like every class before you."
Harry looked to the board to find that the directions for making the potion were slowly writing themselves onto the board. Next to him, Hermione was already pulling their cauldron onto the table.
"This particular version is exceptional at the removal of hardened magical deposits on durable objects," Snape continued in the same sour voice he used every day. "It will also remove flesh from bones, and is often used when harvesting Grindylow fingers. It will not, however, discriminate between the fingers of Grindylows and foolish students, so do show at least a minimum amount of care. The potash and Searing Spirits can be found in the Advanced Potions cabinet—" he waved his hand impatiently at the open cabinet "—If you cannot find them yourself, I suggest you leave this class now. If any of you have bought cheaper cauldrons in order to save a Galleon or two, we will find out by the end of class."
Harry pulled open his book to study the page opposite the recipe Snape had put on the board. It listed a number of precautions to take while making the potion, one with a particularly graphic illustration. Harry went about reading the instructions while Hermione set up the cauldron and the fire. As Harry finished, Hermione began rummaging in her bag for the first of the ingredients.
Harry caught a brief glimpse of Snape glaring at him and Hermione, but ignored it. He'd done fine in all of the previous lessons, and it seemed to be annoying Snape more each day. It provided an excellent incentive for Harry to work even harder.
Together, he and Hermione worked quickly to crush their scarab legs and grind the sulfur into a fine yellow powder. When the cauldron was hot, they were both added to the rest of the ingredients and slowly mixed into the potion. Harry looked down at his book.
"It says it's supposed to sit until it turns clear again," Harry said quietly.
"Come on then, Harry," Hermione said as Harry watched the grey liquid swirl and fume in the cauldron. "Let's get the rest of our ingredients while there isn't a queue."
Harry grabbed a metal bowl for the potash and a stone one for the Searing Spirits. The book had been very clear about not putting the Spirits into a metal container.
They were the first to get to the cabinet, and Hermione immediately pulled the large flask with the Searing Spirits from the shelf. Harry found the potash, and began carefully measuring the needed amount from the glass cannister.
Hermione finished and placed the heavy stone flask back in the cabinet as Harry struggled to screw the lid back onto his container. Behind him, he heard more students walking toward him, with Millicent Bullstrode's voice rising above the rest.
"Of course Potter and Granger have to get their ingredients before anyone else," she said just loud enough for Harry to hear.
Hermione turned to scowl at her. "I hope you aren't planning on using those," she said as Millicent placed two metal goblets on the table near the cabinet.
"I don't need help from you," she sneered, as she reached for the Searing Spirits. She grabbed the stone stopper and pulled, but nothing happened. She gave it an accusing look, then pulled harder. She glared at Hermione.
"Miss Bullstrode," Snape said in a pained voice, "if you pour the contents of that jar into that cup, you'll spend this night and the next replacing my table and floor."
Harry looked over to see Snape pointing his wand at the stone flask in Millicent's hands. With a frown, she put it down onto the table and sent her partner back for their stone bowl. Hermione began slowly walking back to their cauldron while Harry gathered the last ingredients from the cabinet. Millicent carelessly dumped potash into her other goblet, and threw the cannister back onto the shelf.
Harry followed her as she walked quickly back to her seat. As she passed Hermione, she bumped Hermione's elbow with her arm, causing a couple nearby Slytherin's to laugh quietly. Harry gave them a nasty look as he walked to catch up with Hermione. She'd stopped where Millicent had bumped into her. Harry caught her up a moment later.
She was standing completely still, holding the bowl some distance from body. There was a faint hissing sound coming from the floor. Harry looked down to see a decently large pool of watery liquid, hissing and steaming on the rough stone.
"Don't worry about it," Harry said quietly, "We'll just get more." Hermione didn't seem to be listening to him. She was quite pale and continued to stare at the bowl in her hands. It was still dripping, and Harry watched as another drop fell to the floor. With a chill, he realized that it wasn't like the rest of the liquid. It was thick and red and bubbled as it mixed with the rest of the pool.
Harry looked up to see a tortured look on Hermione's face. He heard a slight gurgle escape her throat as she quickly took the last few steps to their table. The table hissed under the bowl, but Harry's eyes were drawn instead to Hermione's left hand.
The skin was bubbling grotesquely and bleeding out of what looked to be thousands of small cuts spread over the back of her fingers and hand. Harry forced himself to swallow. Hermione suddenly gasped and fell to her knees with a weak whimper.
"Professor Snape!" Harry shouted. "Professor! Hermione's hurt!"
Snape looked up, seemingly uninterested. His eyes perked up slightly at the sight of Hermione kneeling on the floor and clutching her wrist. "I'm certain it is not life threatening, Potter. Perhaps it will be a reminder to show more caution when dealing with dangerous ingredients."
There was a mixture of outraged gasps and sneering laughter from the class. Harry knelt down next to Hermione as she choked and gasped in agony. Gingerly, he lifted her back to her feet and helped her stumble toward the front of the classroom.
"Professor, we need to use your fireplace," Harry begged. "It's really bleeding badly."
Snape stared coolly back at Harry. "While many of us may have considered doing so long ago, Potter, I believe that burning Miss Granger for simply spilling ingredients is perhaps too severe of a punishment. I think the loss of her hand would be sufficient." A strangled wail escaped Hermione's mouth and she collapsed fully against Harry, making him lose his balance.
As he stumbled and caught himself and Hermione, he caught a brief glimpse of the pool of spattered blood at his feet. As he took a moment to look at Hermione again, he was sickened by the amount of blood smeared over both her arms, and with a cold stab of panic he realized that his own hands were covered with it as well.
The images flashed through his mind quickly. A sharp blade. The loathsome face of Peter Pettigrew as he cut into Harry's arm. The boiling cauldron as Lord Voldemort rose, embodied and rejuvenated. The sick feeling in his stomach seemed to travel up his chest, where it grew hotter, turning into a burning rage as Harry turned his eyes back to Snape.
"We're taking the Floo to the Hospital Wing," Harry declared with a scowl. His mind traveled to his wand, still in his robe pocket. It wouldn't take much to overpower Snape if he stood in his way, and he almost wished that Snape would.
Snape seemed to feel Harry's anger and he took a step away from his pupil, grimacing as if Harry had threatened him. Then Harry saw something odd: a twitch, perhaps more. Snape's left arm recoiled, and his right instinctively grabbed his left forearm. The moment seemed to pass, but Snape's anger was quickly outpacing Harry's.
"I don't know where you've gotten the idea that this fireplace can take you anywhere, but even if it were possible I would not allow you or your Mu—" Snape paused to take a deep breath "—your partner to do so during class." For a moment, Harry and Severus Snape stood locked in their places, waging an invisible battle of wills. They were interrupted by a cry from Hermione as she stumbled again.
"Miss Granger, you may make your way to the Hospital Wing," announced Snape. Harry turned and began helping Hermione limp to the doorway as quickly as he could.
"She may go, but you may not," Snape called out as Harry quickly waved his wand at his bag, making it pack itself and leap to him. "You will stay and clean up the mess she's caused, or you'll receive no marks for the entire day." Harry ignored him.
"MY OFFICE! NOW, POTTER!" Snape shouted as Harry walked out the door. As he turned the corner and started almost dragging Hermione down the corridor, he could still hear Snape shouting.
"POTTER! I'LL HAVE YOU EXPELLED FOR THIS!"
He didn't care. He wouldn't have Hermione permanently injured because Snape needed some way to punish him for making it into Advanced Potions. If anything, he was the one who should've been in her place. She'd get top marks in the class, but Harry would be lucky if he'd even make it though the year.
That seemed especially doubtful now. Snape would have him kicked out for certain, now. Harry doubted he'd be expelled. Dumbledore wouldn't allow it, not in the middle of a war centered on him. And if he did...
Harry didn't have a chance to finish that thought. He'd pulled Hermione through the threshold into the Hospital Wing. With a rasping sigh, Hermione collapsed onto the ground.
"Mister Potter! What has happened? Quick, call the Aurors!"
Madam Pomfrey raced to Hermione, her wand out and spraying red sparks toward the ceiling. Harry tried to stop and tell her what had happened, but she pushed him away as she scooped Hermione up and brought her to an empty bed.
"Who did this, Mr. Potter?" she finally asked as she waved her wand furiously over Hermione's injured hand.
"Er... Millicent Bullstrode," Harry said with some uncertainty. Madam Pomfrey stopped her work to stare at Harry.
"Miss Bullstrode attacked her?"
"Well, no," Harry started. "It was an accident— Well, it wasn't really an accident," he continued haltingly, "but it looked like it was an accident..."
"I think I understand," Madam Pomfrey said in a voice filled with disapproval. "Was it Searing Spirits or a Decaying Potion?"
"Searing Spirits."
"Should I ask why you didn't go to Professor Snape first?"
"He didn't want to help," Harry said bitterly. "He said that it wasn't life threatening."
Madam Pomfrey made an annoyed sound, and pulled Hermione to her feet. She was quite pale by now, and couldn't even stand on her own. Pomfrey led her to another room, giving Harry no indication that he should follow. He sat down on the bed, hoping that Snape had been exaggerating about the effects of the potion.
"Sit down here, dear," he heard Pomfrey tell Hermione. "I need to you hold your hand still for me... I know it hurts, but this will make it better... Hold it steady, now."
Harry sat impatiently as a moment of silence passed. Part of him wanted to know what was happening, but part of him knew better. This was confirmed a second later when a shriek echoed through the Hospital Wing. It gradually trailed off into a coughing moan.
"There, there," Madam Pomfrey said in comforting tone. "That's the worst of it... No, dear, away from your hand."
Harry sat confused for a moment, but any questions he had were answered a moment later. He heard the unmistakable sound of someone who was suddenly and uncontrollably sick.
A few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey emerged, frowning and holding a large bottle of a blue-green liquid. She set it on the table near the bed Hermione had been laying in. With a wave of her wand, the blood on the bed was gone, and the sheets fixed themselves.
"I'll need to talk to Severus Snape, though I doubt very much that you are the one to deliver that message," she said. "I suppose you may stay here while she relaxes and the potion takes effect."
So Harry sat and waited. When Pomfrey returned from talking to the Aurors she wrapped Hermione's hand in simple white bandages and ordered her to lay in the bed and drink the potion on the table next to her.
Hermione's lips curled at the thought of drinking the entire bottle, but a quick look at her hand seemed to encourage her. After half the bottle, she began talking to Harry again. They talked briefly about the class, wondering if they'd have to go back to pick up Hermione's bag and supplies.
Talking about anything else seemed petty to Harry, so he decided to remain silent. Hermione didn't seem to mind, and took the opportunity to drink as much of the potion as she could force down her throat at one time.
"Hermione!" came a shout from the door. It was Ron. He came running from the other side of room, with an extra beg slung over his shoulder. "Dean just told me what happened! What was Bullstrode thinking? Even I know what Searing Spirits do, and she threw a bowl at you?"
"That wasn't the way it happened, Ron," Hermione said with a grimace. Harry gave her a sympathetic smile. At least it wasn't him drinking the potion for once. He had to admit that as bad as he felt for Hermione, it was much easier to be the one watching someone else drinking the potion than to drink it himself.
"It wasn't?" Ron said as he flopped down on the foot of the bed. "They said that you and Harry were doing better than everyone else, and that Bullstrode and the Slytherins were jealous, so she attacked Harry and got you instead."
"Who are they?" Hermione asked.
"Well...er... you know. It's what everyone is saying," Ron tried to explain.
"Well, they're all wrong, aren't they?" Hermione huffed. "I was carrying the Spirits back to our table, and Millicent bumped me. It could've been an accident."
"It wasn't an accident," Harry interjected.
"Well, it's not that far off," Ron said dismissively as he slid one of the bags toward Hermione. "Here's your stuff, by the way. One of the Hufflepuffs got it for you."
"Thanks," Hermione said, "but you should know better than to trust what everyone else says. It wasn't like Millicent attacked us."
"That's not the point is it?" Ron asked as if Hermione hadn't been listening. "Everyone else thinks she did, and here's the best part: McGonagall heard about it and Colin said he heard her yelling at Snape after he dismissed the Potions class. I think you're both still in for a bit of detention, but it sounds like Millicent got it worse, and Snape's up in Dumbledore's office right now."
"That'll be brilliant," Harry said as he sat back in his chair. "I can't wait for the next class." Even Hermione was frowning.
Ron's eyebrows dipped together in thought. "I guess I hadn't thought of it that way," he said. "I guess it's not quite so good, is it? Still, he wouldn't go against Dumbledore, would he? Dumbledore's all he's got now."
"And he's been so reasonable around me until now..." Harry replied. Ron gave up. Harry knew that this would just make things worse, and he knew that he hadn't really tried to make it better. He'd had little choice. Hermione never would have made it to the Hospital Wing alone, and Snape would have found a way to get Harry even more hacked off. Still, he hadn't given McGonagall and Dumbledore much to argue with.
Harry sat passively as Ron and Hermione moved onto less stressful topics. Hermione eventually finished her potion and her mood seemed to brighten almost immediately. Madam Pomfrey walked in a short while later, and escorted Hermione into the other room to look at her hand. She returned a minute later, without Hermione.
"Miss Granger's hand will be fine," she announced. "I am not finished treating it, but it won't be much longer. Wait here if you like, Mr. Weasley, but you," she said as she glared at Harry, "are supposed to see the Headmaster."
With a shrug, Harry stood and said goodbye to his friends. As he left the Hospital Wing, he glanced at a large clock floating above the doorway. He hoped that it wouldn't take too long. It wasn't long before the evening meal, and his stomach was already making noises.
When Harry finally returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, tired and unfed, he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him. The one person Harry really wanted to see, however, was absent.
"How's the hand?"
Hermione held up her hand, which was only lightly wrapped with gauze. "It's fine, really," she said lightly. "Madam Pomfrey said to keep the bandages on since the skin will still be a bit sensitive for the next few days."
"That's good. We should tell Ginny what happened. After what Ron said, I don't think anyone is going to enjoy Potions tomorrow. I think it's probably best to warn her and the other fifth years. Is she up in her dormitory?"
Hermione tried to hide a small smile. "She never came back after supper— Wait, calm down Harry. She's fine. She just went somewhere else. I'm not actually sure where."
"She went to the library, I think," Ron said, "with her new friend."
Harry looked at Ron and then Hermione, hoping for some more information than that. Eventually Ron supplied some.
"It was actually rather embarrassing," Ron explained. "Ginny spent most of the meal introducing herself to all the younger Gryffindors. Something about 'being a good prefect'. Rubbish."
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. Ron glared back at her, but continued.
"Then before the meal was even over, she gets up and walks over to the Ravenclaw table and starts introducing herself to all the the second year's."
Hermione sighed in frustration. "They were third year's, Ron."
"What's the difference?"
"A year, Ronald. I don't see what your problem is."
"Of course you wouldn't," Ron replied. Ron and Hermione were doing this more often, now. Eventually he'd find out what Ginny was doing, but he wondered if it would be worth sitting through an argument.
Ron sat up to look directly at Hermione. "I mean, you're just one of her friends. I was the one everyone was looking at. It's like they expected me to stop her. She hasn't listened to me for years."
"Honestly, Ron. There is nothing wrong with Ginny making friends in Ravenclaw. Luna's a Ravenclaw."
"Right, but she's a fifth year, not a second year—"
"—They were third years—"
"—and its not like we left Gryffindor table to go chat her up when we were bored. Plus, she's Luna Lovegood. No one really notices if anyone acts odd around her. Now, if a fifth year goes and starts making friends with a load of second years—"
"THEY WERE THIRD YEARS!" Hermione shouted at him.
"WHO CARES?" Ron shouted back. "If she wants to go meet other students, that's just fine, but she doesn't have to go and sit with them during dinner as if she was one of them." Ron mercifully said nothing more, giving Harry an opportunity to jump in and get some questions answered.
"And Ginny went to the library with them?"
Ron turned to look at Harry. "I'm not sure," he said as he forced himself to smile. "I think it was just her and one of the Ravenclaws. I hope she's a bit more normal than Luna." Hermione sighed loudly, and scowled at him. Ron frowned and turned away from her. "What did Dumbledore have to say?"
"About what you'd expect," Harry said dismissively. "He said I shouldn't have ignored Snape and that Snape wouldn't have let Hermione get permanently injured. Seemed a bit bored with it, but he sure took his time letting me go." Harry eventually decided that missing the meal was probably the worst punishment that Dumbledore was going to give him. Snape however, would be a different story.
"I bet Snape was lurking about, trying to make sure you were properly scolded," Ron added.
"I'm famished. I'm going to go see if Dobby can find me some food," Harry said. "I'll see if I can find Ginny and tell her about Snape, while I'm out."
"Good luck," Ron called out as Harry walked toward the portrait hole. "Try to talk some sense into her if you can. She seems to listen to you more than me, lately."
Harry ignored his hunger and walked quickly toward the library, instead. There weren't many Ravenclaw third years. It couldn't just be a coincidence. What was she trying to do? Harry starked walking faster. Whatever she was doing, he wanted to see what it was before Madam Pince kicked them out.
His spirits dropped when he finally reached the library. It was completely silent, and there weren't any signs of anyone inside. Even Madam Pince was gone. Even if Ginny would have been here, Filch would have kicked them out without Pince around.
Harry had turned and started walking back toward the Common Room when he heard a familiar voice. Ginny's voice. Then another voice. Harry couldn't be sure, but it could have been Claire Goldwater. He wished he had brought his Invisibility Cloak with him. He would just have to listen to them the old fashioned way.
Harry edged closer to the door to hear what they were saying. The room was small, an abandoned office perhaps. Ginny and Claire were sitting by the window looking at the moon, talking quietly.
"I hope you'll forgive me for not feeling any safer." It was Claire, and Harry could hear the bitterness in her voice.
"Well it's better than nothing," Ginny replied, somewhat lamely. She sounded as if she was losing whatever argument they were having.
"Hardly," Claire continued. "I didn't have a big family. They all.." She paused a bit before continuing on. "They're all gone now. Where was my godfather when he came for them? He must be pretty useless if they didn't even think he was worth hunting down."
"He can't be all that bad if Dumbledore trusts him."
"Dumbledore!" snorted Claire. "Dumbledore wouldn't even tell me why I couldn't meet him," Claire said. "Instead, I got 'It's for the best...' He was there, Ginny. I heard him. I saw the pen moving. He didn't want to talk to me. He didn't want to deal with me."
"You don't know that," Ginny replied. "He showed up, didn't he? It doesn't sound like it was an easy thing to arrange." There was a long pause.
"I just... I don't have anyone else left, you know? He took them all. Even my mother." Harry could hear Claire sniffling. "The only person I might have left doesn't even want to introduce himself. It was like losing one more person. Can you imagine what it's like? You've probably never been this alone."
"I don't know. I've felt alone. It was a long time ago. I've tried to forget about it. It was... different than what you're going through."
"But you're not alone anymore. You still have a family. You don't know what that feels like." There was another long pause.
"Why me? What did I do? Why did he leave me alive?"
After another long pause, Ginny slowly tried to answer her. "The reasons these things happen... they... they aren't rational. It doesn't matter why—"
"What did I do? I barely knew he existed!"
"It's nothing you did, you mustn't— It was—" Ginny's voice was cut short. Harry's heart skipped as well. What was she about to say? Harry heard the soft taps of small shoes hitting the dusty floor, then scuffle slowly away from the window.
"W-What?" Claire said in a choked voice, as Harry heard her feet slowly backing toward the door. "You— You know why, don't you? Dumbledore wouldn't tell me. No one would tell me. How do you know? Why did you want to talk to me? W-What... What is this?"
"No, Claire, I-I was just trying to say that—"
"You're going to lie to me, now? You said you wanted to be my friend. Was that a lie, too?
"No, it's not that..." Ginny's eyes widened as she watched Harry step through the doorway. Her voice became more relaxed, and almost peaceful. "I'm sorry, Claire, I can't tell you. I made a promise."
"A promise? To whom? How many other people know about this? Who told you?" Harry could hear the same bitter anger she'd shown in Dumbledore's office. It was time.
"I told her."
Claire spun around to stare at Harry with large eyes.
A weak smile crept across Ginny's face. "Claire Goldwater, meet Harry Potter."
Harry stepped forward and lightly shook Claire's small hand. Ginny had done this. She'd somehow planned things to work out like this. Harry looked at her and saw the happiness in her eyes. Claire seemed to simply peer at him in awed confusion.
"How do you... Where..." Her mouth continued to move, silently skipping between all the questions racing through her head. She sat back on the window seat clumsily, her eyes squinting at Harry. Finally, she regained her voice.
"Why... Why did you make her promise not to tell me?"
"Well, she promised not to tell anyone. No one else knows. It's kind of a secret." Harry explained. "I never really meant to keep it from you, but I didn't know who you were, either."
"Who told you?" Her tone was calm but direct. She wasn't letting Harry distract her with other questions.
"Like I said, no one else knows. I..." Harry paused as he tried to think of some better way of explaining it, but there was no better way. "I saw it."
Claire stiffed. "You saw it?" Claire stood up and started walking toward Harry. "You were there? You watched him attack my family?"
"Claire, it's not what you think—" Ginny started to say.
"Apparently, not," she snapped. She gave Harry an appraising look. "Considering my family is dead or insane, I'd say he came out pretty well. So much for the Great Harry Potter. I guess I always knew there was a limit to that Gryffindor bravery."
Harry said nothing, but simply stared back at her. Claire seemed momentarily confused by his passive response, but it didn't stop her from continuing. "Everyone else is dead, but you escaped. Have a knack for that, do you?" Again, Harry remained silent. It wasn't a new thought to him. That seemed to be what normally happened. He always seemed to escape while others sacrificed themselves, or simply got in the way.
"Harry, stop it," Ginny interrupted. "There was nothing you could do." Ginny was up and walking as well, but she wasn't headed toward Harry. Instead she walked right past him to the door. She glanced outside and down the hallway before shutting the door tightly. She pulled out her wand and cast a simple Silencing Charm to prevent them from being heard. When she was done she turned at glared expectantly at Harry.
Harry turned to look at Claire, who had adopted Ginny's expectant look. With a sigh, Harry walked to the window seat and sat down.
"I saw it all, but I wasn't there." This only confused Claire more, and Harry knew he'd have to explain quite a bit to her.
"Sometimes I see things... things Voldemort is doing." Claire jumped at the name, but said nothing. "I've seen lots of things. He's made me see them all. There's nothing I can do to stop what happens." Claire's anger was ebbing, slowly being replaced by curiosity and a little pity.
She glanced to Ginny, then back to Harry. "Like the platform... at King's Cross? You had to watch them all..." Harry nodded. Claire slumped a little where she stood. Harry hoped he hadn't made her feel bad. She seemed suddenly smaller and more vulnerable than she was when Harry had first seen her.
"He hates you because you defeated him," she said as she stared out the window behind Harry. "What did I do? Why me?"
"Ginny was right, you know," Harry started. "It wasn't you. He's just using you." Harry explained the little he'd heard about Claire's mother and Bellatrix's trial.
"So it's all just revenge for the Lestranges?"
"I suppose," Harry said with a shrug. "There really isn't any reason. None of the attacks made sense, did they? He was just hurting people, for no reason."
It wasn't a very comforting answer but it seemed enough for Claire. She relaxed and started talking more and asking less questions. She was mostly lonely. She had only a few friends, and many people were avoiding her, as if her bad fortune would rub off on them.
Harry felt his first pangs of guilt. What if Voldemort had meant what he said? What if he meant to punish Claire's mother by attacking Claire and those around her? He was probably just trying to get a reaction from Harry. It had worked. Would Voldemort actually do it? Whatever the answer was, now was not the time to tell Claire about it.
"Well, just look at Harry. He has plenty of friends," Ginny said as she tried to encourage Claire. "Everyone is a bit frightened right now. It'll get better."
"Yes, we'll he's also Harry Potter, isn't he?" Claire replied. "Not to mention he's a Gryffindor. Makes a difference, you know. The Ravenclaws..." Claire shook her head. "We're a decent lot on the whole, but too many of us just want to stay out of danger."
"Well now you have friends in Gryffindor," Harry said firmly.
Claire looked at him and smiled. "Who needs a godfather, when I have the famous Harry Potter as my friend? I'll just tell him to shove off then, will I?" Harry just smiled back at her.
"Right. If you have any problems with him, you let me know and I'll fix everything."
"Well, are you going to fix everything with Filch if she gets caught in the halls this late?" Ginny asked quietly.
"Bloody hell," Harry whispered as he looked at the time on his watch.
"Luckily, you have more powerful friends than Harry Potter," Ginny laughed. "Come on, Filch can't complain if you're being escorted by a Prefect."
The three of them walked quietly back toward the Ravenclaw common room. The halls were completely empty. Even Filch seemed to be absent.
"So, Harry," Claire said in a low voice as they turned into the hallway that lead to her common room. "We're friends now, are we?" Harry smiled and nodded. Claire stopped walking and looked into his eyes. "You didn't know me before tonight, right?"
Harry tried to act as if he wasn't worried by her question. "Well, no. I mean, I might have heard your name, but—"
"But you've never noticed that I even existed."
"I was going to say that we aren't in any of the same classes."
"That, too," Claire said with a small smile. "So what were you doing down by the library?" Harry stammered a little and tried to think up a quick excuse.
"You weren't looking for me, were you?" Claire turned to look at Ginny, whose face paled slightly. "She didn't seem all that surprised to see you."
"Well... she's Ron's sister, I was going to tell her about something... er... Snape! He's going to be in a foul mood tomorrow. You should tell your friends as well."
"Right," Claire said with a skeptical glare toward Harry. "Did you track down the rest of the Gryffindors, or is there some reason Ginny needed to know?"
"Well, like I said... she's Ron's sister, and—"
"Don't worry," Claire said with a laugh. "I won't be starting any rumors. It was just Ginny and I. Wouldn't want anyone to think she got special treatment, would we?"
"Er... no."
Harry felt a bit confused as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower with Ginny. It felt somewhat like playing chess with Ron. He'd been confident for a while, but now that it was over he was left feeling like he'd only been fooling himself.
"She's not what I expected," Harry said as they approached the Fat Lady. Ginny smiled back.
"I like her, too."
They walked through the portrait to a mostly empty common room. Ron and Hermione were still seated at a table, and each reading a book, though Ron looked less content about it. When they saw Harry and Ginny enter, Hermione sighed and sat back, while Ron jumped out of his chair to walk over to Harry.
"Well it's about time, Harry," he said as he shot a glance toward Ginny. "How many people saw her? Was it bad?"
"What are you on about, Ronald?" Ginny asked.
"You! Getting friendly with all those little Ravenclaws. How much did you tell them about Quidditch strategies? We'll have to change them—"
"Ron!" Ginny shouted. "Come off it! I was just being friendly. Not everyone takes Quidditch that seriously. I guess you'll just have to get used to it, because it's not the last time it will happen."
With a huff, Ginny marched off toward the stairs to the girl's dormitories. Ron turned to clap Harry on the shoulder. "Thanks, mate. At least she listens to one of us. We'll just have to keep an eye out, in case she does try it again."
"Whatever you say, Ron."
Two days later, Harry and Hermione showed up after dinner to serve detention with Snape. The day had gone fairly well, and Harry was pleased at how well he was doing in Transfiguration. Harry had taken some time to demonstrate some of the next spells for Hermione, who seemed surprised to find that Harry was teaching her something for a change.
It hadn't taken more than a minute or so, and they still arrived in the Potions dungeon before the time Dumbledore had told Harry to be there. Snape, however, seemed to think they were late. Harry wondered if it would have been any different if they'd shown up that morning.
"You're late, Potter!" the Potions Professor snapped at them as they walked to the front of the room where Millicent was already seated and chopping away at a small pile of roots. They looked perfectly innocent but Millicent was wearing a pair of rough gloves on her hands as she chopped them.
"Something interesting there, Potter?" Snape said in a loud voice. Harry froze instinctively. "Where have you been this evening? Think quickly, Potter," Snape commanded, "I'm curious to hear what your excuse is this time."
"Excuse for what?" Harry asked.
"What have you been doing this evening, Potter?" Snape demanded. Harry's mind raced as he tried to remember everything he'd done since Transfiguration.
"I...er... I was in the common room until dinner, and after that I played a few games of Exploding Snap with Seamus. Then I walked down here."
Snape glared suspiciously at him. "You didn't leave the Tower before then? You'd swear to that in front of the Headmaster?"
"Yeah, I guess," Harry said. "Why?"
"Unless you're lying, it's none of your concern, Potter."
Harry was a little annoyed with the interrogation, but decided that it would probably be best if he didn't press the matter. Whatever Snape wanted to accuse him of, he hadn't done it. He had Hermione and a load of Gryffindors who would say they'd seen him in the common room.
Snape didn't ask any more questions, despite the flicker of anger in his eyes that told Harry his professor didn't believe him. Instead, he pulled out a pair of large, rough bags.
"Horn beetles and Wormwood bark. They need to be crushed and stripped." He handed the bags to them, adding, "I am sure Miss Granger can explain to you which action to perform on each bag." There was a brief flash of despair on Hermione's eyes as she looked in her bag. Harry looked in his and saw the large flat sections of bark, which meant Hermione must have the beetles. Her hand was much better, but the skin was still pink and tender. Crushing beetles wouldn't help at all. With a frown, he quickly switched bags with her and walked back to one of the tables.
They picked a table some distance from both Millicent and Snape. Harry quickly took out his mortar and added a handful of the beetles and started mercilessly pulverizing them. Next to him, Hermione started pulling apart the bark and placing the different parts in three different piles.
They worked away at their respective tasks. Every few minutes Snape would stroll past them, encouraging Millicent and finding some mistake to point out to Harry and Hermione. The piles of ingredients grew, and when Harry was half finished with his bag, Snape came by to unceremoniously empty the pile into a large glass jar. He similarly put the bark pieces into a set of wooden boxes, before turning silently to walk to where Millicent sat silently chopping roots.
"I think that's enough Miss Bullstrode," Snape said as he pushed the chopped roots into a clay jar and picked up the bag of unchopped roots. "You may leave. I trust that you'll show a bit more caution next time Miss Granger is being careless." Millicent nodded silently, and then turned and walked quickly out of the room, conspicuously avoiding Harry and Hermione.
Snape returned to his storage cabinets, putting the containers back on their shelves. With a scowl, he turned back to a large book on his desk. Harry ground away at his beetles. The large pile had been encouraging, and now he had to start a new one. As he powdered a few more handfuls of beetles, he watched Snape and waited for some sign that he wasn't paying attention to them anymore. Finally, Snape took out a quill and started scrawling away at some parchment. Harry took this as his sign.
"Why was she wearing gloves?" Harry whispered as he added more beetles to his bowl and continued crushing them.
Hermione frowned as she pulled apart a fresh chunk of bark. "I don't know, Harry," she whispered back, sounding annoyed. "She was probably afraid that I might find some way to pay her back."
"It'd only be what she deserves," Harry added. "I wouldn't be upset if—"
Harry was cut off by the sound of a very large book being slammed shut. Both of the Gryffindors looked up to see Snape standing at his desk, obviously seething with anger.
"What did you say, Potter?" he said through clenched teeth.
"Nothing, sir."
"I heard you," Snape sneered. "What would she deserve?" Snape walked out from behind his desk to stand in front of Harry and Hermione. Harry stared back into Snape's eyes and felt only disgust.
"I just meant that Millicent would feel more sorry if she had to go through everything Hermione had."
"And how exactly would you go about making that happen, Potter?"
"I wouldn't," Harry replied as he stared back at Snape, whose face was twitching in anger. Harry tried to think of what he might have said to make Snape so angry.
"He just said she'd feel more sorry if she did," Hermione added, trying to deflect some of Snape's anger.
It didn't work. Snape's anger boiled and flamed behind his eyes as he looked from Harry to Hermione. Harry backed away as he saw his professor's lips pulling back in a grimace. "You will tell me where you were this evening or I'll see that you never enter this classroom again."
Without even thinking, Harry told him again. This time he added that they'd stopped to try out some spells in an empty hallway. Surely Snape wouldn't care about that.
"You expect me to believe that you spent this evening doing absolutely nothing?"
"Well, I didn't say I hadn't done anything, did I? I was mostly relaxing and helping Ron and Hermione pick up the last spells we'd been taught—"
Harry was cut short as a frustrated growl escaped Snape's throat as his wand slashed out toward Harry. Before he realized what was happening, Snape was shouting his spell.
"Legilimens!"
As it struck Harry, his instincts seemed to take over. His emotions slipped away from him, leaving his mind empty and shut. As Snape held his wand on him, he saw brief flashes of a boy with messy black hair laughing. The spell ended abruptly, leaving Snape's hair scattered about his head and his mouth working silently in rage.
"What are you hiding, Potter? What were you working so hard to keep secret?"
"What were you looking for?" Harry shouted back, both annoyed and surprised by the sudden attack. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he felt oddly relaxed.
"I've seen it for years," Snape spat back. "Dumbledore would never admit it, but he must see it as well. Your resemblance to your father runs much deeper than your idiotic looking hair."
"You're not half the wizard my father was!" Harry shouted back. The moment he heard the words slip out of his mouth, he knew it was perhaps the worst thing to say at the time. A quick gasp from Hermione next to him signaled her agreement. Harry couldn't remember seeing Snape angrier than he was now.
"OUT!" Snape roared suddenly. "BOTH OF YOU, LEAVE NOW!"
Harry stood dumbfounded. Hermione, however, immediately pulled her bag and Harry's from nearby chairs and tugged Harry along after her. As she pulled Harry toward the door, Snape continued yelling at them.
"I don't want to even see you near the Potions classroom this week, and if I ever find that you've lied to me, I'll not rest until you both are EXPELLED!"
With one last heave, Hermione pulled Harry through the door and closed it tightly behind them.
"What do you suppose that was about?" Harry asked as they walked toward the stairs.
"I'm don't know either, Harry," Hermione said with a frown, "but I don't think that it was worth staying to find out. We're going to have to tell McGonagall about this, and it'll be much easier if we don't have to do it in the Hospital Wing." Harry wondered who she'd imagined would be in the Hospital Wing.
When they got back to the common room, they told Ron about it. He seemed less shocked than Harry had expected him to be.
"Well, we've always known that he gets a bit unhinged around Harry, haven't we? And while Harry might not have left the Tower, I did, and some of the second years said that he was howling about something that happened in the dungeons. He's probably had more supplies nicked from his cabinets."
That was news to Harry, and Hermione seemed just as surprised. It made sense, really. While he hadn't ever taken supplies from the Potions room, Hermione and Dobby had, and both of them had used them for something Harry had done. But unless there was some reason for Dobby to raid the Potions supplies he didn't know of, he'd had no part in it this time.
Hermione had dutifully pointed out that it could have easily been some other student trying to complete some work for some other class like Herbology. In the back of everyone's mind was the idea that perhaps, like Barty Crouch Jr, there was some impostor in the castle who had no other way of getting ingredients for whatever poison or potion he was brewing.
Part of him was certain that Hermione was right, and that some Ravenclaw had snuck in to get a bit of horseradish for a Quickened Growth Potion or some similar reason, but another part of him seemed just as certain that this was the first sign of Voldemort's new plan to get at him.
How easy would it be to poison his food? Or even to simply sneak into Gryffindor Tower and poison him in his sleep? Sirius had done it. And Nagini had snuck into the Department of Mysteries. Why couldn't someone else? He tried to explain this to Ron and Hermione, but Ron simply shook his head.
"It's a lot harder than it seems, mate," he said reassuringly. "The elves... Well, they don't let anyone tamper with the food, and they're pretty blindly devoted to Dumbledore, aren't they? If it were that easy to get into Gryffindor Tower, why wouldn't he have tried that a long time ago?" He clapped Harry on the shoulder.
"Whatever it might be, you're safer here than you think, Harry."