Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I take no credit.

Hello. Thought I might update while I still have the chance. Well, glad that you all liked the last chapter, and I hope that you like this one just as much if not more. I absolutely LOVE all of my reviewers. Thanks so much for your support, and for taking the time to read.

Special thanks to Bee for bringing it to my attention that I had forgotten Charms results. (So sorry Professor Flitwick.) So, let's just say Harry got an O in that and is in NEWTS charms.

On another note, I recently opened a yahoo group where people can talk about basically anything, although Harry Potter is the main topic. Feel free to stop in there at any time. (I only have two members so far.) It's on my author's page for those interested. (Also, if you have any hints, I've never owned a web page before and need help managing it.)

Well, enough delay. On with the next chapter, shall we?

Chapter 17: "Go to Bloody Hell!"

When Harry opened his eyes, he at first saw nothing. He blinked a few times, and his vision cleared, although everything was still spinning terribly before his eyes. In front of his face, a small vial was held out. "Take it," the voice of Professor Snape growled. Harry slowly moved his hand up and took the vial, drinking the entire contents. The room stopped spinning and came into focus, and so did the annoyed face of Professor Snape. Harry sat up, for the first time realizing that he was lying on a cot in the middle of the office. "Get up," Snape commanded. Feeling that he had already overstayed his welcome, Harry did as told and tried to make his way out of the door. "Oh no you don't. Sit down at the desk."

Harry obliged, while Snape made the cot disappear into thin air with the simple wave of his wand. "Well, it looks as though you have some explaining to do," Snape sneered, as he took the seat opposite Harry's.

"About what, sir?"

"About what! About cursing Lestrange, if nothing else. And then, about what happened when you tried Occlumency this time."

"I thought you weren't allowed to punish or interrogate me for anything you see in my memories!" Harry accused.

"I'm not allowed to punish you, true. But nothing was ever said about interrogations. So, answer me now: Why did you curse Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Do I need a reason?" Snape glared. "Because she had just killed Sirius. Because she would have tortured me first. Because she deserved it, that's why."

"There is no good reason to use a cruciatus curse on someone, Potter."

"Like you've never used it before." Harry shot back.

Snape seemed to grow paler, and yet his voice became more dangerous. "That is entirely different."

"Oh is it? You still performed the curse, did you not? And on innocent people. Muggles, or witches and wizards fighting against Voldemort. At least she deserved it!"

"Do not use his name!" Snape hissed. "And that is entirely different! You are an inexperienced child, at best. You have no idea the repercussions of using such a curse. There is more than one reason it is an unforgivable."

"Such as."

Snape shot a dirty look in Harry's direction. "Such as, emotional breakdown. Inability to focus. Et cetera, et cetera."

"Well, I'm fine. So I guess I have nothing to worry about."

"Don't be so sure, Potter." The Professor strode to the side of the desk next to a shelf of potions. "There are other curses used for torture and killing. Why is there are only three that are unforgivable?"

Harry fell silent. He hadn't really thought about that before. They hadn't learned of any other reasons in Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the psychopathic teacher. He tried to reason it out in his own mind, but could think of nothing. "I guess that I don't know, sir."

Snape had a semi-triumphant look on his face. "Than perhaps you should learn." He went to a bookshelf, picked up possibly the thickest book on the whole shelf, and gave it to Harry. "I want two feet on the Unforgivables themselves, and then another foot on what makes them unforgivable."

"But sir…"

"DON'T 'But sir' me, boy. You will do as told. This assignment will be finished in one day, when we meet again for another lesson. Is that understood?"

Harry glared at his teacher, wishing he had laser vision, like the American Superman did. "Yes. Sir." Harry said.

"Now get out." Snape turned away from Harry, obviously waiting for the boy to leave. Harry took the opportunity and almost darted out, barely remembering to grab the cane as he left the office in a hurry. He stormed up to the hospital wing in a fury, completely unbelieving the fact that he now had a long assignment that would be do the following day. Harry would liked to have hit something, but restrained himself. Instead, he decided to devote his energy to the demanding task of finishing Snape's essay.

The hours seemed to drag slowly by as Harry worked on the essay. All of his work was careful and precise, hoping to get all of the details correct so that he would have no reason for Snape to yell at him. Most of the details he pulled from the hideously large book that Snape had given them, although some he pulled from the lessons from the imposter Moody. Harry did not look up from the essay until it was sundown, at which time Madame Pomfrey had walked in with a tray of food for him. "So busy," she said, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "I thought I told you to relax."

"Sorry, Madame Pomfrey, but Snape gave me this assignment and it's due tomorrow."

"Professor, Harry. And don't worry, I'll talk to him for you." Harry would very much have liked that, and yet he wasn't sure that that was such a good idea.

"It's alright Madame Pomfrey. I'm sure he won't give me another assignment after this one."

"Nonsense. He needn't be giving my patient so much to do! Don't worry about him, Mr. Potter. He had to obey my orders for you wellbeing. He won't get mad if I tell him not to give you anymore work."

Harry sighed. "Thank you, then."

"It's no problem. But Mr. Potter, I'm going to go ahead and inform you that I will be leaving tomorrow morning.. I feel that you are doing better, and any of your medical needs can be helped by your professor. But if you ever need anything, you can contact me."

Harry wanted to protest, and yet felt it would be unfair to deprive the medi-witch of her summer as well. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you for telling me."

Madame Pomfrey nodded and left. Harry all of a sudden wasn't hungry at all. The idea of having to stay in the castle practically alone with Professor Severus Snape for the remainder of the summer was not pleasant. The man had a constant grudge against Harry, and it would be an almost intolerable time.

The next morning, Harry reported promptly to Snape's office, parchment rolled up in his hand. He handed it to the professor immediately. Snape began reading over it, and then tossed it aside as he finished. "Unacceptable," he said, a sneer on his face.

"Why is that?" Harry said, between clenched teeth.

"You completely missed the point of this essay."

"You told me to write about the unforgivable curses, and why they are unforgivable. I did that."

"You wrote an interpretation of why the curses are unforgivable! Did you use other sources besides the one book?"

"No. You lent me that book to use, and I did. You never said anything about 'other sources.'"

"You ASSUMED, Potter. And you know what they say about assuming." Professor Snape's voice had changed to a sort of joyful condescension. The sound of it was infuriating Harry more and more by the second.

"I did the assignment exactly as you told me! There is no reason as to why it should be labeled 'unacceptable.'"

"The point of this essay was so that you could see why unforgivable curses are dangerous to the caster, not only to the recipient."

"You never said that."

"That was what the whole conversation was about, wasn't it? The consequences of using the unforgivables. You are to redo this whole assignment again tonight, and turn it in to me tomorrow. This time, a total of four feet are required."

"I'm not doing that bloody thing again!"

Snape seemed to radiate contempt and anger, becoming more angry at the teenager's blatant refusal to cooperate. His anger, though, did not compare to Harry's. Tables began to rattle, and bookshelves shook. "Control your temper, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered.

"You can go to Bloody HELL for all I care! I'm not redoing that bloody piece of trash essay just at your whims! You're like a petty little kid!" A glass on the desk shattered into a thousand pieces, although neither of them blinked. Professor Snape grew paler, and Harry grew madder. Both of their eyes shone with fury boiling inside. Snape was about to say something, but Harry didn't give him the opportunity. "You tell me to do something, and then complain when I do it as you feel is incorrect! I'm sick and tired of, of YOU!" It was at that precise moment that Harry turned and left before any other words could be exchanged. He was grateful that he had been standing right by the door, for if he hadn't of been, there would have been no escape from the office. Harry moved extraordinarily fast for someone who was injured. In a second in he was at the end of the hall, darting away from the dungeons. He heard Snape shouting after him in fury, but did not respond. Two windows shattered as he darted past.

Harry only slowed down minutes later, when his side began to hurt and his leg felt it would give out on him. The fury began to die down, leaving him with a sick feeling. Harry fell forward, onto his knees, white hot anger leaving him for nausea and a killer headache. Before he was even completely aware of it, he was vomiting out what he had eaten only a little over an hour before. He tried to stop himself, but he couldn't. The food resurfaced faster than he could stop it. Eventually, the vomiting stopped, if for no other reason than there was nothing left in his stomach. Harry muttered a cleaning spell weakly, ridding the hallway of the foul-smelling stomach contents.

As Harry stood up, he felt he nausea returning. He glanced around, and saw the boy's lavatory that was conveniently close by. He made his way into the door, but never made it to a toilet. For as soon as the door was opened, the vomiting returned. This time, though, it was not food that fell onto the stone floor, but blood, crimson and thick. The coppery taste only made him feel more ill, if earthly possibly. In his mind, Harry screamed for help, but no words ever passed his lips. Darkness pressed in around him, and he fell onto the floor beside the pool of blood. The last thought before he passed out was, "Not again."

"Have you seen Mr. Potter?" Snape demanded of Peeves.

"Pitiful Potty who Pukes Pink?" Peeves cackled. Snape brushed the words off as another one of the poltergeist's unusual riddles, and continued on the search on his own. "Of course I've seen him! The little prat ran by not ten minutes ago. Looked quite sick if you ask me. Of course, if you step into the lavatory, you can see for yourself just how sick he is." Peeves vanished before Snape could ask him the meaning of what he had said, and all that remained was a faint cackling.

Snape saw the boy's lavatory down the hall, and felt that that must have been the one Peeves was talking about. Snape stepped briskly toward the bathroom, and tried to push open the door. Something was blocking it though, as the door would not budge farther than an inch. "Potter, Open this door!" Snape shouted. There came no response. "I'm not fooling around. Open this door, or I'll curse it off it's hinges. One, two…Three!' Snape held true to his word. With a simple spell, he undid the hinges to the door, and pulled it away from the lavatory doorway. There, lying on the floor, lay Potter, dead to the world (a/n: not literally, don't worry).

A/n: Don't forget to read/review. Sorry if it's a little short. I'll try and update soon.