A/N: Well, I was gonna be really mean and leave this on a bit of a cliffy for you, but I won't do that, as the next instalment is in my head but not on paper yet, and I don't get enough regular time to sit and write. Thankyou to everyone who's still following this fic! Big hugs! ( )( )( )( )( )
Lamia Chapter 5 – Detention With Snape"I want that wall of shelving units, and the items on them, to be cleaned, by hand, thoroughly and an inventory compiled detailing what is there and the condition it is in. Make sure you do it all properly, I wouldn't want you to have to do it all again..." said Snape pointedly to Harry, indicating a dark wall to his left that was swathed in cobwebs and shadows. The objects on the shelves looked like they hadn't been used in centuries, and varied from medium sized cauldrons to empty vials, scales and other measuring devices.
Turning abruptly, Snape returned to his desk, gave Harry another glare and turned to the pile of parchment in front of him.
Sighing quietly, Harry picked up a tatty old rag and, starting at the top, began carefully taking each item down from the shelves. Gritting his teeth, Harry began his task and thought of what he could, no, what he should be doing. He had been looking forward to Quidditch practice. It was one of the only times he could get away from everything and be completely free. He didn't have to think about anything; not about the latest assignments; not about being 'Harry Potter – The Saviour of the Wizarding World' and the task in front of him; not about what seemed to be happening between Ron and Hermione; not about his own confused feelings when it came to girls, or even boys for that matter. It just wasn't fair that Snape could take the one time when he was truly free away from him.
Finding the skeleton of what looked like a small mouse, he was tempted to throw it away, but decided to list it along with every thing else. It would be just his luck to throw away a potential potion ingredient and for Snape to put him in detention every evening for the remainder of the year.
Both Snape and Harry worked in silence for the next three hours, and Harry was coming nearer to the bottom of the shelves and the end of his detention when the door to the dungeon suddenly flew open, and slammed loudly against the wall.
Startled Harry turned to see Draco walking up to Snape's desk. He was clutching his chest and seemed to be panting, as if he'd been running and was now out of breath.
"Professor..."
"Draco. How unexpected to see you here at this hour." said Snape, one eyebrow raised, questioning Draco's presence and appearance. "What can I do for you, or was it perhaps Mr Potter you wanted to speak to?" Snape phrased it as a question, so as to remind Draco that Harry was there, and that certain topics were, as such, not to be brought up.
Draco's eyes widened. "What!?" Breathing in sharply, Draco frowned and his thoughts became jumbled in his mind, trying to work out why Snape would mention Harry. What does he know? Why has he brought up Harry? What has Harry found out and told him?
Snape, noticing Draco's look of confusion and what looked to Snape like fear, repeated his question. "Was it myself you required, or Mr Potter, who has kindly joined me in detention this evening?"
Letting out an audible sigh of relief, Draco remembered Snape had given Harry detention earlier on that day in potions. So much had happened since then, it was no surprise that morning felt a million miles away. Everything had been fine then. Blood was a little on the dark side, but Draco's secrets were not about to be discovered, and he wasn't the complete irrational mess that he seemed to be now. "Oh, er, it was you I needed to speak to, Sir."
"Very well. What can I help you with?" questioned Snape.
"Er, well, Sir, I needed some of the... er..." Draco paused, and looked over to where Harry was standing, polishing a pair of scales. Seeing that Harry seemed completely immersed in his task, Draco continued, whispering just in case Harry could hear him, "Some of more Suule Ondolin, Sir. I haven't been feeling well, it's been... hard to breathe... and I think they could get me through, at least until... well, until something better comes along."
Breathing in sharply, Snape narrowed his eyes and looked at his Slytherin student. How long had Draco been feeling like this, he wondered. Snape knew that for Draco to get to this stage he was putting not only his own health in danger, but also the lives of those around him. Pursing his lips, he got up from his desk and strode out the door behind him, into his private office, where he opening a locked cupboard and began rooting around amongst the various glass jars and boxes.
Harry, who had been polishing the same bit of the scales for the past five minutes, replaced the item on the shelves and moved on to the next. This movement allowed him to quietly exhale the breath he had been holding in an effort to eavesdrop on Draco and Snape's conversation. He knew it was wrong, but couldn't help himself, something was going on here. Draco had been acting strangely since lunchtime. He was too quiet, no snide remarks or threats. Harry had even caught Draco staring at him once or twice, and Draco had looked quickly away. Too quickly thought Harry, that's how I know he was staring at me.
Turning, Harry placed the next item on the desk in front of him. This gave him the chance to look at Draco, who had backed up from Snape's desk and sat down heavily on the nearest bench. He looks pale. Well, paler than usual. thought Harry. And he's breathing too quickly, like he's hyperventilating. Why would he come to Snape if he's not well. Why not Madame Pomfrey?
Draco could feel Harry's eyes on him. Raising his head, he tried to glare at Harry, though it was much harder than when he was his usual calm composed self. The glare seemed to want to melt, and Draco could feel a warm feeling settling in his chest, and a lump forming in his throat. Draco averted his gaze, in case Harry read too much into his expression, he had enough problems already, and didn't need Harry guessing Draco's true feelings for him. That would be too much.
Snape returned and placed a jar of dark red sweets in front of Draco. "These will have to do for now, until a more satisfying solution can be arranged for your condition. Let me know if you need any more."
Draco grabbed the jar, and looked at Snape. "Thank you, Sir". With that he turned, headed towards the door and out into the corridor, closing the door behind him.
Harry looked over at Snape. He knew he wouldn't get any sort of explanation from him, but couldn't help himself. "Is Draco okay, Professor Snape? Shouldn't he go to Madame Pomfrey if he's not feeling well?"
"It's none of your business, Mr Potter, whether Draco chooses to go to Madame Pomfrey or his Head of House. Now get back to work".
Sighing, Harry resumed cleaning the bowl in front of him. Something is going on, he thought, and I'm witness to it now. If something happens to Draco because he didn't get his 'condition' seen to by Madame Pomfrey, it's not just Snape's fault, but mine too. I can't ignore what I overheared, Harry told himself. If I can, I've got to help, decided Harry, It's my duty now.
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