Chapter 6
Disclaimer: "Steal" is such a dirty word....let's say I "commandeered" some of the characters and concepts from J.K. Rowling.
Braised fennel, Harry discovered, was decidedly not a breathable substance. It may have been, in fact, the least breathable substance on earth, judging from the way it was lodged firmly in his throat. He dropped his fork and slapped a hand to his throat, then barely avoided planting his face in his chicken when both of his cousins whacked him on the back in perfect unison.
Once he could again breath, Harry risked a glance around the family. Every adult wore identical looks of horrified shock. The two cousins flanking him looked to be approaching panic. Philomena, however, seemed obliviously bewildered as she looked from face to face.
"Well, Daddy?" she asked again, "What is a brutal three-way?"
Odysseus sat completely frozen, holding a dish of buttered peas and looking as if he would rather enter a dance competition in a field full of Devil's Snare than answer his daughter's question.
"Uhm...whe...erm....y-you see, luv, that's umm.....," his face suddenly brightened, and he blurted, "That's really a question for your mother. Later. Much later. And definitely not while we're at the table."
Relieved to have that dealt with, Odysseus turned back to his peas and ladled up a large serving, which he dumped neatly into his lap when his daughter asked,
"But why, daddy? Is it a very naughty thing to talk about? Is it like "coming off" or "fucking"? What do they mean?"
Harry noticed that Castor was breathing oddly, and Myles had both hands clapped over his mouth to stop a scream from escaping. For his part, Harry wasn't breathing at all, and held the edge of the table in a painful grip.
Odysseus, along with the other adults, slowly turned their scandalized faces toward the three boys who sat paralyzed in their seats.
"Mena, luv," asked Odysseus in an eerily calm voice, "Where exactly did you hear those words?"
The little girl cast the quickest of glances at her brother and cousins, then looked down at her lap and shrugged, reaching up to twirl one of her curls. Harry heard Myles growl quietly beside him.
"I dunno," she mumbled, "I don't 'member."
"Philomena..." prompted her father, nudging her slightly.
"Only I don't wanna get anybody in twouble..." she lisped, lifting her head to send puppy-eyes at her father.
'Wait a minute,' thought Harry, 'when did she get that cute little lisp?' He glanced at Myles, who was now glaring overtly at his sister. On his other side, Castor was doing the same.
Philomena didn't even wait for prompting this time, before continuing, in the most sickeningly adorable voice imaginable,
"Castor an' Myles an' Harry was talkin'....I didn't understand ever'thin'....But I think they said some bad words...," she looked down again as tears started to form in her eyes, and rubbed at them with her hads, "I'm sowwy..."
As her father rushed to assure her she'd done nothing wrong, Philomena peeked at the boys through her fingers and shot them a grin so nasty it would do a gremlin proud. Harry gasped in shock. 'Why, that little...' He gaped at the little girl who had her father wrapped around her finger like putty.
"Explain!"
The three boys all jumped in their seats and turned to face a very angry Atticus Snape, who held his utensils in a death grip and fixed his son and nephews with a glare that suggested he'd be using his fork and knife to carve the boys into small, bite-sized pieces.
The frantic babbling that ensued was completely incomprehensible. The boys might as well have been speaking Gobbledygook, for all they managed to explain. They were abruptly cut off.
"I think," said Severus, his voice its usual menacing calm, "that we had best perhaps call this evening to a close. Don't you agree, Atticus?"
"Yes," the younger Snape answered, his narrowed eyes un-moving from his son's face, "I think that may be for the best."
"Well then," Severus said, getting gracefully to his feet, "we shall be going. Thank you very much for dinner, Calliste, it was wonderful. Heroditus," he said smoothly, "would you like to thank our hosts for their hospitality?"
At the moment, Harry would have liked nothing more than to run screaming from the room and jump out the nearest window, but his survival instincts kicked in and instead he stammered,
"Uh, y-yes, thank you very much, Aunt Calliste...Uncle Atticus." His aunt still looked to be in complete shock, and his uncle actually had his teeth bared. Harry muttered hurried good-byes to his other family members, who were as well getting up to leave. Adara looked skeptically at her daughter, but Odysseus was still glowering at the little hoodlums responsible for compromising his little girl's innocence. Harry only had time for a quick "See you," to his cousins before he was ushered quickly and firmly out of the house.
Once on the step, Severus gripped his son painfully by the back of the neck and apparated them both back home.
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When Harry winked into existence inside his father's study, he automatically tensed. His shoulders were hunched against the painful grip on his neck as he tried to shrink away from his father. He felt his father release him and move away, but Harry neither relaxed nor turned to face him. He braced himself for what he was sure was coming, thinking a string of very un-charitable thoughts about his father and young cousin.
"Well?" his father's voice came from behind him.
Harry blinked a few times, then turned slowly to peek behind him. To his great surprise, the man behind him did not look about to commit infanticide. Harry was confused.
"What?"
Severus scowled in annoyance,
"Well, what is your explanation for what transpired earlier?"
Harry merely looked at his father in absolute astonishment. Finally he said,
"Erm, you...you're going to let me explain?"
"Of course I am," snapped the man, his annoyance growing rapidly, "what makes you think differently? Whether or not I choose to accept your explanation depends on how pathetic it is."
"Right," said Harry, still feeling more than a little confused, "Well see, sir...Castor and Myles were sort of joking around about something, and they said...some things..."he looked at his father's scowl and continued in a rush, "But I swear, Philomena wasn't in the room! She'd left way before we talked about...that, and she must have been listening at the door or something, I swear!"
Harry eyed the dark man wearily. His eyes flicked to his wand hand, which was thankfully still empty. Nevertheless, he took a tiny step back, towards the door and safety. Severus noticed this and sneered.
"Stand still, boy! I am inclined to believe you; that ridiculous little lisp of Philomena's is painfully obvious. I cannot stand children who are purposefully cute." He spat the last word out as if it tasted foul.
Harry slumped in relief and let out a shaky breath, which he sucked right back in as his father renewed talking.
"However," he continued, "the subject matter that your cousin overheard is highly inappropriate! You are now my son, and I will not have you speaking of such filthy matters, especially among people of quality. You are a Snape, and as such, you are expected to uphold the family name, comport yourself with the utmost dignity..."
'And do your level best to dislodge the giant potions text that's been shoved up your father's arse.'
Harry heard the words his uncle had used to end the very same speech and, to his horror, he giggled!
Evidently, the same memory had been called to Severus' mind, as his eyes narrowed and his lip curled.
"Indeed," he snarled, "Tell me...exactly which of my niece's new vocabulary words was your contribution?"
"None! It was Myles and Castor..." he gulped as his father's scowl deepened, "No, really, they were the ones who said...and then all I said was that they were fucking...oh, bugger!" his eyes bugged out and he nearly knocked himself unconscious as he clapped his hands over his mouth. "Oh, no..."
Wordlessly, but his eyes spelling out his rage very clearly, Severus reached into his robes and withdrew his wand, pointed it at his trembling son and hissed,
"Oris purgo!"
Harry was completely un-prepared for what happened. He had braced himself for a repeat of what had happened earlier, so it came as a very unexpected and unpleasant shock when his mouth was filled suddenly with slick, bitter soap.
"Mmmmmmmmph!!" he shouted through his closed mouth, as his face contorted in disgust. He looked around frantically for someplace to spit out the terrible liquid, but his efforts were cut short by his father's dryly amused voice.
"If you expectorate, the soap will return, and the spell will remain active for a longer period of time. Swallowing will have the same effect. I believe thirty minutes should suffice to convince you to be slightly more judicious with your choice of words in the future." He smirked at Harry's impotent sputtering. "You may return to your bedroom, where you shall remain until called tomorrow morning."
Trying his best to level a malevolent glare at his father, but finding it difficult while repressing his gag reflex, Harry spun on his heel and stormed to the door, viciously kicking the doorjamb on the way out. He stomped down the tower stairs and was thoroughly horrified to find the Devil Himself waiting to escort him to his room.
"Borrible hopes Young Master is in good health," the disgusting little elf asked, leering at Harry, obviously looking for signs of distress.
Harry merely glared at the elf and gestured for him to lead the way.
A wide grin cracked the evil little face in half,
"Oh, dear...Borrible fears that the cat has got Young Master's tongue. Oh, well, Borrible can talk, and Young Master can listen," he smiled and set out, at a leisurely pace, towards Harry's room.
"Borrible has been thinking about what to make for breakfast tomorrow morning, and he thought that Young Master would perhaps like a nice omelet, yes? A nice omelet with spinach, stewed liver, mint leaves, jalapeños and pickled herring. Does Young Master agree? Borrible doesn't hear any disagreement..."
Nearly fifteen minutes and many "accidental" wrong turns later, Borrible finally deposited Harry at the door to his bedroom. Harry had, by omission, agreed to having his breakfast menu for the next month consist of every un-appetizing combination of foods imaginable. He especially dreaded next Tuesday, which was "Eggs a la Catfood" day.
Just as Harry was stepping through the door, Borrible asked,
"If Young Master has no objections, may Borrible take the liberty of arranging Young Master's lunches in a similar fashion?"
Harry turned abruptly, and with no thought of the consequences, thrust his head out the door and spat a mouthful of saliva and magical soap directly into the wretched little beast's face. He had time for a bellowed,
"NO YOU MAY NOT!!" before the soap once again filled his mouth, and he slammed the door on a dripping and sudsy elf.
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As it turned out, the consequence of spitting was for the punishment to start again right from the beginning, so it was another half hour before the soap disappeared from his mouth, leaving only a lot of saliva and a repulsive taste in his mouth. Harry rushed out of his room to the washroom, not caring that his father had ordered him to stay in his room until the next morning. If the man expected that sort of obedience, he and his greasy hair could just go to hell!
Harry didn't bother with a glass, just turned the faucet on full and shoved his mouth underneath it, sucking great mouthfuls of water to try to banish the foul, lingering taste. Finally he ceased, admitting to himself that he would just have to endure it, and crossed went back to his room. When he entered, he noticed a large gray owl, perched on his bed and holding a letter.
Puzzled, Harry took it from the bird, which flew out an open window, after for some reason beating Harry about the head with his wings. Harry sat down and peered at the handwriting on the envelope. It was sloppy and ill-formed, and not at all something he recognized. Curiosity overcoming his weariness, and glad to have a distraction from his dish-pan tasting mouth, the slid a finger under the flap and ripped it open. He grinned in delight as he realized who it was from.
Oi Harry!!
Hope this gets to you soon, and you get it when you're NOT with Uncle Sev(sorry if it does, mate!). Cobber's a pretty ace flyer, so you should get it soon. Sorry about what my little trollop of a sister did...that was definitely NOT ON! Don't worry, though, I know exactly 348 completely un-traceable ways of getting back at her, so she'll get hers! She always tries that wobbly-lip bit when she wants to get us in trouble, so Mum saw right through it...Dad's a bit thick when it comes to the sprog, though, so Mum had to come to my rescue!
Speaking of which, how are you doing? I hope your dad didn't buy all that rot from Phil. Mum was a bit worried after you two left. I think she's going to fire-call your dad to let him know what's what.
I was actually going to fire-call you, but then I figured that might not be the best idea, considering how your dad looked a bit shirty when you left. It's not as if I could really talk to you anyhow...my mouth's a little "occupied" right now...you don't want to know...
Harry smile in sympathy, and read on.
So right, I just wanted to give you a proper goodbye, since our evening was so rudely cut short. (Honestly, how do our parents expect us to develop proper social behaviours when they keep ignoring etiquette?)
We'll see you soon, I'm sure.
Cheers,
Myles.
P.S. Castor's fine. When we left, Aunt Calliste was worrying him about "what those awful boys said to her baby."
Harry grinned and lay back on the bed, kicked off his shoes and toed off his socks. Staring at the ceiling, be decided that he didn't hate it quite as much as he had earlier. Nasty little cousin aside, his family had turned out to be fairly decent. Quirky, and overly fond of soap, apparently, but not at all what he would have expected for a bunch of Snapes.
For one thing, not one of them looked as if their hair could be used to lubricate a rusted bicycle chain, and their noses all looked perfectly normal, allaying any fears Harry had had of developing his father's distinctive feature. Perhaps it was the result of an unfortunate accident? A miss-place engorgement charm? Or maybe he'd spilled some of the same potion that Hermione had on her teeth last year. With such pleasant thoughts in his head, Harry drifted off to sleep, ending the first day of his new life with a smile on his face.
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Nothing wipes a smile off of your face quicker than getting yelled at first thing in the morning about sleeping in a twenty-Gallion robe.
"WHAT IN BLAZES IS WRONG WITH YOU, BOY!"
Harry say bolt upright in bed, yelling,
"I DIDN'T DO IT!! THE OWLS WERE PINK WHEN I GOT HERE!!"
He blinked a few times, then saw the imposing figure of Severus Snape looming over his bed.
"AAAAAAAAAAGH!" he screamed, which seemed the only reasonable response at the time.
"Aaagh, indeed," his father replied dryly, "kindly get up! You Aunt will be here to collect you soon. Why aren't you ready?"
"What?" he asked. Mind games were not fun in the morning.
Severus glared. "The next time you answer one of my questions with 'what', I shall make you transcribe every word on the dictionary except that one. Now, why are you not dressed? You were told to be ready for her by 8:30."
"Wha..." he caught himself when he saw his father's nostrils flare, "I don't know what you mean. You just told me to stay in my room until I was called for breakfast."
"I mean what I had Borrible tell you last night after your Aunt fire-called me." Severus was rapidly losing patience, something that he never had in abundance to begin with.
"Borrible...Oh," Harry muttered, "I probably didn't hear him. He can sometimes speak very softly."
"Hmmmm." Said Severus. "Well, your Aunt Adara wishes to spend some time with you today. She thought to make a day of it-breakfast included, unless you'd rather decline on her offer?"
"No!"Harry cut in, thinking of Borrible's "special" omelet, "I'd love to spend some time with her...I'll get ready. Sorry about the clothes, sir," he muttered an apology, "It was an accident. It won't happen again."
Severus said nothing, just sneered down the length of his nose and swept from the room.
"Ponce," muttered Harry darkly, then set out to change.
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Harry found his own way downstairs, thanks to the similarities in the castle's floor plan to that of Hogwarts. Thankfully, "mini Hogwarts" had no moving staircases, so it was harder to lose his way. He was determined to never again need Borrible to escort him.
He found himself in the dining room, where he also found his father, eating breakfast and reading The Daily Prophet. Unsure of what to do, Harry hovered by the door until Severus looked up in annoyance, and gestured curtly for him to have a seat.
Severus cast an appraising eye over his son's garb, and finding it at least satisfactory, returned to his paper. Harry placed his hands in his lap and sat in awkward silence, trying to avoid fidgeting. He snuck a glance at the front page of the paper.
DEMENTORS DEMENTED
Article by Gladwick Nesterbaum
Reports of un-characteristic behaviour
from the spectral guardians of the
wizarding world's most notorious
prison, Azkaban, have steadily been
escaping the confines of the island fortress
and drifting ashore to the freedom of
the wizarding press. Authorities have yet to...
Harry's reading was cut off when Severus snapped the paper down in response to a chiming sound.
"Ah, yes," he said, standing up, "That's the floo connection. Adara has arrived."
Harry followed him out to a sitting room, in which the woman in question stood, brushing lightly at her robes. She smiled at their approach, and Harry grinned back, the article, Snape, even his pinching shoes banished from his mind.
"Ready to go, Harry?" she asked, holding out her hand.
"Am I ever," he replied, stepping forward, sparing not even a backwards glance for his father, "Am I ever!"
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A/N:
I'm sooooooorrrrrrrryyyyyyy! I'm sorry this update took so long, but thank you all so much for hanging in there! Things have been busy, and they still are, but I PROMISE to have another update this weekend, so make up for the lateness and the shortness of this one! That said, thank you all so much for reviewing! You guys are awesome!
Like I said, thank you soooo much to all my reviewers, I appreciate every single one! For those of you who had specific questions of comments...
Rit-Globe- YOU GOT IT!!! You are the first person to recognize Atticus' name! You are awesome, and you get cookies! Also, yes, Montrose will be introduced in a future chapter. More cookies to anyone who knows where THAT name, or any others, for that matter, comes from.
Meggplant- yeah, Harry just doesn't "go" with Snape. And I hope this satiated your urge for Borrible abuse a bit. Heehee!
Iimpu- you called it. Phil is a devious, nasty little girl! Bwaaaahahahaaaaaaa!
Abby- I promise to never use the word "anyways" again. At least not any time soon, anyways... ;)
Ciara- Sev will most likely change his attitude towards Harry in class. He definitely won't be as antagonistic. As for Harry's potions skills...don't expect him to suddenly discover that he has a natural aptitude for it or anything.
Xikum- Sev keeps Borrible around because he's not rude to him. Seriously, if you were a house elf, would yousass Sev? I don't think so!
Thanks to everyone who says they like my OCs. That means a lot!!
To those of you who are concerned about the amount of cussing in the story...Sorry if it offends you, but I am trying to write the dialogue as realistically as possible, and the truth is that 15 year old boys do swear a lot. I'm just trying to be realistic.