19. Apologies Earn Punishment
After what just had happened in Double Potions, Harry intended to ask Snape for a relief for Neville. To have him exempted or warded from any practical jokes in class would be a relief to him and the other members of Dumbledore's Army. Asking for this would also help Harry to see what Snape was up to, but he was already half-hearted about it. He should in any case to talk to Neville first. Neville would have to learn. The plump boy would have to be able to defend himself eventually, without having friends to take care of him around. On the other hand, after the events in today's lessons, some protection for him seemed more urgent than ever.
One thing that Harry did not like was that his asking, in this light, was merely a pretext. It was a working pretext though, a good subject to start a conversation with. Harry hated using Neville's troubles like that, but he also would hate standing in front of the Potions master completely at a loss for words.
Harry remembered how much the small, podgy, awkward boy had improved during the final meetings of Dumbledore's Army last term, and how bravely, if somewhat inefficiently, Neville had fought in the Ministry. It was not a good idea to rob him of the chance to practice. What they could do was to alert Neville to the things going on if he continued to fail to notice. Hermione would have to teach him to build up a protection against the Slytherins. It probably wouldn't even take long, given Neville's recent amazing history of successes. The thought of Potions as Defence practice in itself might help greatly, adding a level of handling it.
No mercy on Snape's side could, even if granted which was highly unlikely, really be helpful here, but probably would rather be the opposite. „Real" Dark Arts lessons could, Harry was sure, never be anywhere near as effective in improving their defensive skills as the challenging realism of the present situation in Potions, with all its dangers and surprises: what an opportunity for training!
Take the contest between the houses... Playing practical jokes was, in a sense, still one step closer to reality than was any lesson on how to do or deflect such things, no matter how practical that lesson was...
All of this, Harry felt sure, was very much the Potions Professor's objective.
In this way, Harry would not have to ask anything of Severus Snape, except for the Order, which was another plus. He slowed down, very much tempted to just turn back and leave things as they were, merely showing by his actions in Snape's classes that he had gotten the gist.
So, this was Defence against the Dark Arts or rather the Dark Arts in themselves, combined with Potions...
He decided that he would be GOOD at it, whatever it was called.
The scary realism brought a lot of additional tension into the school which Harry didn't like, but then, this was no sanctuary – or was it?
All of it also pointed to war – real, unconditional war, between the houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin, at the very least – unfair enough, as the other houses would be almost entirely with Gryffindor...
Harry realised what an odd thought that was, considering that the other side had the advantage of not having to adhere to any rules as long as their actions supported the Dark Lord and his aims.
They were free to even use the Unforgivables if they did not mind the Ministry of Magic...
Harry then stopped dead in his tracks.
He realised, felt fully and with his whole heart, that war, REAL war, had finally come to Hogwarts.
Not even the events in the Hogwarts Express and Malfoy's hate had managed to make him appreciate it all.
There would be no practice anymore now – if only by his understanding of the situation…
Harry shook himself. It was one thing to theoretically know such a thing, but quite another to feel it, in one's heart.
Harry really, really hated it. Hogwarts was his home, more than any other place, and like everybody else, Harry Potter longed for peace, at home, and in the world. Yet, the challenge of the situation intrigued him. He wondered how the old Headmaster felt about things. He must be tired…
Hogwarts was no refuge anymore, regardless of wards and a protective Headmaster like Dumbledore, who'd also been reinstated into all his considerable positions in the wizarding world, and could wield a lot of weight.
There was no difference whatsoever any more between a situation that included the chance of being killed in a kind of game or competition at school, or a war – outside of the average age of the participants... They all were only sixteen or seventeen... Like parents, like sons...
Harry's thoughts returned to the present. He must have been standing in front of the Potions classroom, lost in those gloomy thoughts, for several minutes. Pulling himself together, he remembered all the things that Dumbledore. Harry was resolved to see this through. He and the Potions Professor had to make peace.
"Come on in then, will you?"
Snape's dark voice, rather impatient but not altogether unfriendly, was clearly audible through the thick dungeon door.
Harry stepped inside.
"What is it, Potter? I am expecting visitors!"
Snape glared at him.
"Ermh..."
Merlin, a pretext... It was nothing more now, and he DID need it.
"I – Professor Snape, sir – well, I would like to ask you to please exempt Neville Longbottom from being teased… From things like those that happened today, this kind of practice, by warding him, like you protect the Slytherins... At least for some weeks, he is not... not fit for this, yet, sir. It would be easy for you to shield him. His parents, do you know..."
"No, Potter."
This flat denial encompassed everything that Harry might say or Snape might know in the matter.
A pause.
Snape did not bother to tease Harry by denying that anything unusual had been going on during his lesson.
"Let me congratulate you on finally noticing. You did act swiftly, today. Although you are mistaken in so far as that I do NOT protect anyone, Slytherin or not. It is not your job to ask for such things either, Mr. Presumptuous – do send the Prefects, and let them have my no on the matter! Anything else?"
Snape's answer was rude, of blunt finality, and left nothing to be discussed.
Well, Neville lived, relatively unhurt, and was even improving, after all. This might be for the better in the end.
"No, sir."
Harry turned to leave, but stopped. He'd almost forgotten what it really was that he had come to ask of the forbidding man. He just had to!
Feeling Snape's eyes upon him, Harry turned back to his Professor. He looked into the unfathomable blackness of his eyes, and very carefully opened his mind to his Professor like he had last time, letting him feel his latest considerations, concerning war, some of them at least. No matter if his opponent should know, the cards were on the table. This was the fastest way, too. It was now, or never.
After some moments of reading him, the Potions master spoke. Harry dropped his look, rubbing his eyes.
"Well, yes. Well perceived, Potter. You are picking up on it. Better manners too, lately, I seem to notice. Thank you for informing me about... your progress in that area. What else do you want?"
Had Snape just praised or at least acknowledged him, and was the second time already!
Harry cleared his throat.
"Actually, what I just told and showed you was not what I came to see you about either, but you will understand, sir, that those sudden realisations have made me feel the urgency of – of resuming Occlumency lessons with you, sir, as soon as possible, belated or not. What is more, I think I will implore you to teach me if I have to, and will say again right here that I am really sorry for what I did… then. I do believe I am growing out of such habits, sir."
Harry had not thought he would dare to do it now…
Snape said nothing, staring darkly at him, not probing his mind now, but appearing to consider.
Surprising himself, Harry looked at Snape again, and saw in that pale face a mixture of distant anger and – amusement. No sneering, no contempt, no rage nor triumph, but faint and honest amusement... It was there for a mere instant only, and was gone so fast that Harry thought he must have imagined it.
Had Snape forced that question out of him? No – that was a silly thought. Harry had been shaken by the story of Idane's death, but he'd let the dour Professor have a bit of his mind no less, eventually.
Harry felt urged to say something whatsoever.
"I do believe, sir, that Neville will eventually be able to handle such threats as he faced today. You can't really stop us from helping out there..."
"Neither would I bother, Potter. What I can do, and cannot do, is determined neither by your discretion nor by your and your friend's limited perception, Potter – thank Merlin."
The boy hardly noticed Snape's rude unkindness – that merely was to be expected, and lost its bite entirely in the light of his recent realisations and the relief of finally having done it –, but was lost in thought again. Slowly he turned toward the door to leave.
"Potter…? Manners!"
"Yes, sir, I am sorry, sir – Am I permitted to leave?"
Snape nodded, mollified.
"Have a good day then, sir…"
Harry felt he began to really get a grasp on this. Keeping up appearances meant just nothing, and did not turn a hair on his head. This was the logic of war! Snape was teaching them all, the Slytherins, too, what life under the Dark Lord's rule would be like, what to do about it, from either perspective – and the hard way, too.
Harry stopped once more and turned his attention back to his Potions Professor who had cleared his throat to speak.
"I suggest that you," Professor Snape began quietly, and stopped abruptly. He started again, his voice now rising in sudden unexpected anger.
"Well, Potter," – Snape had not spat his name like that in weeks, Harry noticed – "I have had it with you and your cunning little games! That is 20 points from Gryffindor, AND detentions, WEEKLY, for the rest of the term! Come here tomorrow evening, after dinner, eight sharp. I expect punctuality! And now, do get out and make it fast, will you!"
Harry, completely flustered, obeyed immediately, grabbed his bag, and made for the door hurriedly. He tore it open.
"Oh, detention it is then, Potty? No more Remedial Potions? Lucky you are - and only 20 points from Gryffindor, too bad! But couldn't you see to get what you really deserve? And soon, too?"
These sentences came out with enough hatred and bile to make a Basilisk feel ill.
Malfoy and several other Slytherins stood in front of Harry, waiting to be called in.
He hurried past them, catching an elbow or two, fuming. 20 points off – for nothing at all! And in front of Draco Malfoy, too, of all people!
Raging inside, Harry lost his grasp of things. He did not understand anything anymore. Thoughts and concepts that had been clear as daylight to him just a moment ago lost their terrible brilliance over that exchange, his anger, and his hatred of that Slytherin gang.
He had been honest with Snape, felt almost close to him for a moment, and not entirely unwelcome – and then, out of the blue, he'd lost his house points for nothing at all – again!
Harry told Hermione and Ron about this in the common room, almost howling with rage. Other Gryffindors came over to pity him and calm him down. Lee Gordon offered him a free choice from his supply of Wizard Wheezes to have it back on Malfoy and his buddies.
That night, Harry went to bed early and fell asleep late, thinking and turning over things in his mind.
In the end though, Harry did sleep, regardless of his anger at his Potions Professor and his annoyance with his situation, feeling faintly reassured that he was indeed not crazy, but that his reckoning held true. He felt he did probably understand why this had to happen, in the way it did, too, and, what was more, that it might well be worth 20 points to have a cover provided right from the start – at least if he managed to stop attaching any value whatsoever to such things as house points, or trophy cups that were only put in the Trophy Room to be looked at in better times anyway... by posteriority…
Also, whether he liked to or not, Harry had to admit that Snape had shown amazing presence of mind.