Chapter Twelve- Maundering
"Sirius is Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, along with Remus Lupin."
Harry was sightly startled. "Really? I'm surprised the Ministry is allowing it."
"Well," stated the headmaster, "they had little choice in the matter. And at any rate, they haven't much been forcing their influence upon us, not since it was found that Voldemort was truly back."
"Ah, I see. I assume before that, that they were rather . . . pushing for their way?"
Albus snorted slightly. "You could say that. They even forced their own DADA professor into the position. Called herself 'Hogwarts Inquisitor'."
"You're jesting. A witch had the nerve to call herself that?" Harry shook his head. "Honestly, I knew most from the Ministry were fools, but apparently it's worse than I thought."
"Yes, truly." The headmaster was smiling in amusement. "One can only guess what next the Ministry will play at. Oh, I probably shouldn't say any more, I wouldn't want to set an example of disparaging the government." He smiled innocently, causing Harry to laugh lightly.
"Don't worry, I won't tell." Harry grinned winsomely and it was Albus' turn to chuckle.
A low growl from overhead drew the two grounded wizards' attentions upward. Harry clenched his jaw shut to stop his laughter at the enraged scowl upon the Potions master's face. The man was glaring holes of fire onto the tops of their heads, his arms crossed, and his body tense. Turning slightly, Harry saw that his godfather was equally angry, but was alternating between glowering at both the men on the floor and at Snape.
Harry glanced at the headmaster with an eyebrow raised. When the man nodded, still smiling, Harry waved his wand in a small arc, lowering Sirius to the ground. As soon as both he and Snape were level, the animagus took a step toward the other. Rolling his eyes, Harry grabbed the man's arm in a hard grip. Reminds me of . . . okay, not thinking of them. It's easier that way. That's not my home, he thought forcefully. Yeah, right. Damn.
Forcing himself back to the present, Harry smiled at his godfather, but didn't release his hold, even as the man pulled away. Harry raised his eyebrows in question, and when the man sighed and nodded, finally let go. As he turned back to the headmaster, Harry noticed Sirius rub his arm with a wince, but didn't offer an apology. Glancing at Snape, he noticed the man watching him with a narrowed gaze. Harry tilted his head inquisitively, but the Potions master quickly looked away. Odd, that one. Not exactly how I remembered him, though. Pushing that aside, Harry looked to Dumbledore.
The headmaster gestured them toward his desk, indicating they should sit. Once he was seated himself, he addressed the two professors before him. "Now, I trust we won't have a recurrence of this? It is not a way I wish my staff to behave."
"My apologies, Albus," said Sirius quickly, as though to speak first. "I wasn't going to put up what that snake's comments and I . . . lost my head."
"Mind, more like. If he ever had one," Snape muttered under his breath, though Harry heard him easily enough. He threw a quick glare at the man, and noticed Dumbledore doing the same. On Harry's other side, Sirius sat stiffly but calmly, apparently not having heard.
Stifling a sigh, Albus looked at his Potions master. "Severus?"
"I apologize for any thing that was uncalled for, but I am not sorry for defending myself against a rabid animal." Snape sat straight and crossed his arms.
Placing a restraining hand back on Sirius' arm, Harry looked angrily at Snape. "That remark was uncalled for."
Snape turned a sneer on the younger wizard. "I would thank you not to dictate my actions, Potter. You may not yet be back in school, but I will still remove points."
"Severus, that is quite enough." The headmaster found himself fighting against an urge to roll his eyes. "Come now, let us stop. I assume you came here for a reason?"
Snape nodded curtly. "Yes, headmaster. I came to tell you that I have assembled the exam you requested for Mr. Potter."
"Already?" asked Albus, surprised.
"Oh, yes. It wasn't that difficult. On my part, at least." The sneer that had seemed permanently etched on the Potions master's face modified to a singularly evil smirk.
Sirius glared at his associate, and sent a slightly sympathetic look toward his godson. Harry didn't bother acting very upset, though he did force himself to contain a smirk of his own. He'd expected Snape to come up with the worst possible test, but the man had no idea just how studied Harry was. This will be interesting. Wonder how much I show the man up without risking my cover?
"Well, in that case. Harry, when would you like to take it?" questioned the headmaster.
Harry affected a slightly apprehensive expression. "I guess any time's good. Er, I mean, whenever."
Albus nodded, inwardly smiling at the younger wizard's antics. He was rather anticipating the result of this, both to see what Harry had learned, but also how he handled himself. "Excellent. Severus, you're free, are you not? I'm sure you could oversee it now, since you don't have any more classes this afternoon. Would that be acceptable?"
Clenching his jaw, Severus nodded. As if I actually have any say in the matter, he thought, though the bitterness wasn't as strong as one might expect. However, he wasn't about to go without pressing the issue slightly. "I still stand by what I said at the meeting yesterday, headmaster. The boy hasn't even taken the OWL exams, I really do not think he should be allowed such leeway as to possibly enter higher classes."
Sirius scowled and leaned forward. Harry once more grabbed the man's arm, sending him an exasperated glance. Shaking off the hand, Sirius nonetheless offered a sheepish smile. Harry shook his head slightly and waited for the headmaster's reply.
"Well, Severus, I see your point, but that will quickly be taken care of. I've already petitioned the Ministry for the exams to be given to Harry," stated Albus and Harry contained a shocked look. "And in the meantime, if he's qualified, he should be in the proper classes. Besides, we wouldn't want him to have to remain in school longer than necessary, would we?"
That prospect had the desired effect of quieting Snape's objections. Harry sniggered inwardly at the slight paling of the Potions master's face. I guess that this isn't exactly fair to him. Probably had been hoping never to see me again, and now, well . . . Harry thought, now forcing down a laugh.
"Wait a minute," interjected Sirius. "It isn't really fair to force Harry into a test so quickly. He was deathly injured yesterday, for Merlin's sake! And he has just returned, hasn't studied . . ."
"Sirius," Harry interrupted, ignoring Snape's sneer at Sirius' concern, "it's fine, I'm all right. And really, I do want to get back into things as soon as possible."
Sirius looked at him with his brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, Dumbledore spoke up. "Well, then, it's all set. Severus, why don't you take Harry back to your classroom for the test?" The Potions master nodded once. "Wonderful. Sirius, don't worry, I'm sure Harry's fine, aren't you, Harry?" The headmaster's twinkling gaze rested on the younger wizard, who nodded quickly. "See? You know, Sirius, Severus' potions took care of Harry's wound quite well. It would have taken much longer to heal without them."
Harry smirked at Dumbledore's blatant attempt to cure some of the animosity between the two men, but thought it was a lost cause. When Sirius only scowled, and Snape sneered in return, the headmaster sighed. Harry offered him an understanding smile and stood up, turning to Snape.
"I'm ready, Professor, if you want."
Snape jerked a nod at Harry and stood up, sweeping out of the room. Harry shrugged and waved farewell to the other wizards, following the man through the door. As it closed, he heard Sirius asking how wise it was to let him be alone with Snape. Harry grinned and shook his head. As he reached the bottom of the stairwell, he quickened his pace to match the Potions master's long strides.
Though Harry looked around as he walked, the journey to the dungeons was silent and quick, and surprisingly, they saw no one on the way. Harry realized that classes must be in progress, and found he was grateful. After his earlier reunion, he didn't really want to deal with any more, even though he knew he would have to. Like I haven't dealt with difficult people at school, he thought. No one here can be as bad as some of the Vampyrs and such at the Academy. But glancing at the tense back of the man before him, he had to amend that thought. Well, at least he doesn't bite. Most likely. He forced himself to concentrate on the walk as he almost fell on a trick stair. Snape didn't bother to slow down.
Pulling up to a door in a hallway Harry didn't recognize, Snape stopped and flicked his wand, unlocking it. He swiftly walked inside and Harry followed, finding himself in a lab classroom. Wondering why the Potions' classroom had been moved, he stepped to the front, stopping near a desk.
Snape kept his back to Harry, moving to his desk and removing a large scroll from the top of a pile of parchment. As he turned and handed it to the younger wizard, he sneered, "If you were wondering, the room was changed because of an 'accident' of one of your ilk. A Gryffindor. The ceiling and floor collapsed in." Harry winced slightly, and Snape continued. "You will take your practical exam as soon as you are finished with the written, and I must ask you not to do the same to this room. I'm sure the headmaster would be most displeased if you were injured, though I can't see why. And I would rather not have to move the class, yet again. Understand?"
Harry nodded curtly and took the proffered test. Walking over to a desk, he saw that it had both a quill and ink upon it. He glanced back at the professor, who gestured sharply for him to get on with it, and sat down. Removing the string binding the scroll, Harry opened it and proceeded to read.
1. What are the properties and ingredients of the Polyjuice potion, and in which order are the ingredients added? Explain how each element forms and affects the results.
Harry hid a grin and quickly began writing. Though he had personal experience with the first potion from long ago, he found the rest of the questions just as facile. The training he had undergone in Alchemy was clearly more than was given at Hogwarts, and he had to force himself to answer as though it wasn't.
Keeping an eye on Snape, who was grading papers, Harry kept a slow pace in writing. He waited until he saw the man glance at him in impatience twice, before letting himself finish. Once he was done, he wrapped the parchment up and looked at the Professor. Though the man clearly knew he was finished, the Potions Master ignored him, continuing to grade papers for a while, before finally acknowledging him.
Harry quickly gave him the scroll, knowing it was well done, yet not revealing of his abilities, and read the instructions Snape handed him for the practical. Still reading, he moved over to the student supplies and selected a cauldron and utensils. Going over to the cupboard of ingredients, he placed the parchment in a pocket of his robes, smirking inwardly. The potion he had been instructed to make was one he was very familiar with, having made it at the Academy, though Snape wasn't to know that. He easily picked out the correct items for it, all from memory, and walked back to his station.
Once everything was set out and his hair pulled back, Harry picked up a knife, slicing the first herb. Feeling that he was being watched, he secretly glanced at the professor, seeing the man stare at him. As he moved, Harry realized that Snape was observing his hand with the knife, narrowing his gaze as he noticed how readily Harry handled it. Remembering that it was hardly hours from when he had threatened the Potions master with a dagger, Harry knew that the man was getting suspicious of what he could do.
Not wanting him to gather that he was trained with a blade, though he may well have already, Harry lost his grip and dropped the knife to the floor. Picking it up and walking to the sink to wash it, as cleaning charms weren't to be used if it could be helped, Harry jabbed himself lightly in the leg with the blade, just enough not to draw blood. Letting out an exclamation, he put the knife on the sink and checked his leg, as though looking for a wound. When he apparently found none, he washed the knife and went back to his seat. Noticing that the man was still looking at him, Harry was careful to appear less steady as he made the potion.
As the concoction simmered for a few minutes, he saw that Snape was acting as though he was reading the essays he was correcting, but that his eyes were still darting to Harry. Figuring that the man was not going to fall for such tricks, not for long, Harry realized that he would need to follow some other tactic. Carefully bottling his potion after it was done, he decided on his course of action.
If there was one thing he knew of the man, it was that he had a quick temper. And that, for Harry at least, it was easy to trigger it. Harry had learned these past two years that when angered, people were less apt to cogitate, were less willing to. Putting that knowledge to use, he walked up to the professor.
"Professor," he said, rather louder than needed. "I'm done. What should I do with the vial?"
Still looking at his papers, Snape sneered, and Harry thought he heard the man mutter something about exactly where to put it. When the man finally turned his scathing gaze on him, Harry merely smiled, slightly inanely.
Snape blinked, then his sneer intensified as he saw Harry hold out the bottle. "On the desk. Then clean up, Potter. You will get marked down if you do it sloppily."
"Of course, Professor. What ever you say." With that he put down the vial and went back to his desk.
Clearing the remains of his potion, Harry picked up tools he had used to make it and dumped them in the cauldron. Noticing Snape's grimace, he sniggered inwardly, picking up the pot and turning away. Reaching the sink, he suddenly let go of the handle, dropping it with a loud bang and clanging of metal.
"What do you think you are doing, Potter?!" Snape ground out, standing up from his chair.
Plastering on an apologetic expression, Harry turned quickly. "Sorry, Professor, it slipped."
Snape scowled, but sat back down. Harry quickly cleaned everything up, and went back to his station. He picked up the left over ingredients, handling them quite roughly, garnering an enraged look from the Potions master. Harry put them away and stood before the professor, deciding that maybe adding a bit of confusion would help his plan. He ignored the door of the classroom opening, as Snape spoke.
"Potter, treat the items like that again and you will never make another Potion in this school," Snape stated caustically.
With a very sincere expression, Harry replied easily, "Yes, Professor. But what's that have to do with the price of a broomstick?"
Snape blinked, a look of confusion on his face. "What was that, Potter?"
"Keep your broomstick on the ice, Professor." Harry smiled brightly at the older wizard.
Staring incredulously at him, Snape stood up, anger joining his confusion. "Are you mad, Potter?!"
Harry tilted his head to the side. "Perhaps. Are you?"
Before the Potions master could respond, Harry waved goodbye and jogged out of the room, passing a pale, stunned figure near the door. Giving a faintly odd smile, he nodded to Draco Malfoy, who gaped after him, as he strode through the exit. Stopping outside the door, just far enough not to be detected, Harry listened to the wizards left in his wake.
"Was . . . was that Potter? As in Golden Boy Potter?!" Malfoy exclaimed, though it was muffled as though he had turned to face his Head of House.
"According to the headmaster." Snape's voice sounded quite off balance.
"Did he just tell you to keep your broomstick on ice?" Now the younger Slytherin sounded more incredulous than shocked.
"I believe so," Snape said, with a confused inflection, but it was growing angrier.
A breath was taken, then Malfoy asked, "And that something didn't have to do with the price of one?"
"Yes." That word was said sharply.
"Where has he been, St. Mungos?" questioned Malfoy, sounding like he was shaking his head. "If not, he should be."
Harry didn't hear the reply as the door was abruptly shut and warded. But he still couldn't help smirking as he walked away.