Side Effects

Author: Adrienne Wolter (catsncritters).
Summary: A potion's accidental side effects were passed down an ancient bloodline for centuries, before they reached the one that needed them.
Rating: R.
Warnings: If you've read this far, you know that there's HPSS slash and I shouldn't need to warn you again. Rating is now R, so please do not disregard it. Yes, I am aware that I rate the content highly... I was already suspended once for the language in this story, I don't plan to be suspended again.
Reviews: Very much appreciated, but not required. If you have confusions I will try and resolve them by answering you in the next chapter.
Archive: This is archived here, and on my own site. (Even though that archive's not been updated in forever... cough.) If you'd like to archive elsewhere, ask first.
Noted: Oh dear, I had no intention of leaving this story and Switched on the backburner for so long. To make a long story short, I really got involved in a lot of school things and life things. In high school I've met so many great new people, and am experiencing things I've never experienced before... close friendships that come with drama, and the like. I've kind of thrown myself into the orchestra in particular, and after submitting some of my writing to a competition in December of 2004, I ended up falling into the hugest writers' block I've ever experienced. For two whole months, I couldn't write anything. This came as quite a shock to me, as you can imagine, as I've thought of writing as the key to my future for as long as I can remember. I recently found out that of the seven submissions I made to the Scholastic Awards, six of them (all but the poetry) won awards of some kind. I'm slowly getting back into writing. I'm really sorry I left this story off for so long. Thank you for all the fantastic reviews and things.

MachiavellianOrange - Wow, thank you.

CannonFodder - Heh, thanks for reminding me that this story, er, exists. I don't plan to let this fan fiction fall into fic-abyss yet.

Everyone: There's a bit more in this chapter on the St. Mungo's happenings, as well as Severus discovering what will be the I think last set of actual side effects from the potion. Ooh, exciting. Enjoy.

-Chapter Eight-

What did I tell you about interrupting my classes!

Vision-Harry, on the floor after being roughly shoved off of Severus' lap, pouted up at him, rubbing his lower back. The Potions Master had winced at the loud thump the boy had made when he came in contact with the floor, but considering the fact that none of the more gossipy students had looked up, he was the only one that heard it.

But I thought you loved me!

Severus' mouth twitched, and the boy on the floor couldn't decide whether it was for an almost-smile or another wince. Arrogant brat. Go back to my chambers and stay there, I'll be back before lunch in the free half hour.

No, I'm waiting here.

Severus growled quietly, and didn't notice the confused glance given to him by Miss Granger, who was, as always, seated in the front, with a reluctant Potter boy next to her. Fine, just don't make a nuisance of yourself.

What would you do if I were to make a nuisance of myself? Harry had a challenge on his face, and was badly fighting back a grin. It's not like you can kick me out physically, and sleeping on the couch didn't work.

I have my methods. He ignored the raised eyebrows from the Gryffindor, opting to stalk around the class, checking cauldrons. Miss Granger's was exceptional, as usual; he stopped in front of Potter's cauldron, crossing his arms and looking down at the potion.

It was the same color as Miss Granger's.

He had to fight against doing a double-take, to see if what he thought he saw was actually what he saw. Raising an eyebrow, he noticed that the boy hadn't even bothered to look up yet, and was making a scene of carefully chopping up the bloodrot into even pieces.

"Hmm," was all he said, before sweeping off down the aisle.

-point of view switch-

When the Slytherin head had passed and was a reasonable distance away, Harry put down his knife and got Hermione's attention, leaning in to whisper to her.

"Did he really just go on without saying anything nasty?" His face showed skepticism.

Hermione quickly looked down the row to see where the man in question was. "I believe he did," she said, just as incredulously. She lifted herself from her bench the tiniest bit to see into Harry's cauldron. "You're doing a good job, Harry," she said, rather surprised. Harry frowned at her.

"What, expecting me to do badly?"

She grinned despite herself. "It's not every day that one sees Harry Potter making a passable potion. Ron's still going to think he's gone utterly bonkers though, I'll bet."

"Quit talking and get to work," Snape muttered as he passed back up the row. Harry caught Hermione's eye and grinned, continuing to chop his bloodrot.

-point of view switch-

Severus sighed, looking from his class down to the papers he'd finished grading. Putting his red marking ink back into his top desk drawer, he leaned back in his chair and decided to wait out the rest of the class, since there were only ten minutes to go.

Harry and Granger were talking again. He thought about giving them detentions, but realized he really didn't care. His life was crap right now; and detention alone with the two of them would torture him.

Why is that?

He didn't even jump. I refuse to answer that.

Arms around his shoulders. The boy was standing behind him; he could see fingertips as they cradled his head in a loose grip. It would've felt nice if it were anyone but this boy, this Gryffindor doing it.

And yet... it kind of felt nice. When, before, did Severus have someone who was... willing to get this close to him? Granted, this someone was potion-induced, altering of the mind, but somehow, he existed as his own separate entity. Curious, very peculiar indeed.

The class ended, and looking up at his students, he saw that Granger was helping Harry bottle his potion. She had already finished, and the bottle was neatly corked on her desk, labeled with her name in her quick, scrawling handwriting. After bottling his, Harry brought them both up to the desk while the girl put their borrowed tools back.

"I see you've actually brewed something passable," he told the boy, still feeling the arms of the calm Vision-Harry about his shoulders, a light touch...

The boy looked startled. "Sir?"

You complimented me? Vision-Harry asked. It took a moment for him to realize that the Vision had heard the words he'd spoken. How long had the boy been playing stupid? Severus ignored him, choosing instead to focus on staring down the boy. It was the only thing he felt safe doing.

Harry turned away, almost invisibly shaking his head, picking up his books and following his friend out into the hallway with the rest of the students, who were now turning in their potions.

They were all gone now. You complimented me?

Of course not. That's a compliment?

He felt rather than heard a small sigh as the boy behind him rested his chin on his head, then recoiling. Severus, I really am sorry for this, but I am going to wash your hair later.

Severus pushed the boy away, standing and crossing the room, straightening the haphazardly-stacked supplies on the shelves in the back of the classroom, turning off the dripping stone sink. Why did you have to come here?

There was no answer, and Severus saw upon turning around that the boy had since disappeared. Probably back to their room. He shook his head at that thought; his room, not theirs.

-point of view switch-

"I told you before, and I'll tell you again," the red-haired boy was telling him, "Snape's gone mad, mate."

"Ron," Hermione chastised, but did nothing more.

"They should do an article in the Prophet–" Harry said, grinning.

"'Harry Potter Rouses Compliment from Snarky Slytherin Head'–"

Hermione couldn't even fight down a grin at that, as the other two boys snickered. Silently, they agreed to go out onto the lawn to spend their free half-period, and turned into a small, barely-used hallway that was a shortcut there. A short walk through the courtyard past other students who had the free half period, too, and they reached a tree next to the lake.

Harry had grown attached to this tree, subconsciously. It reminded him of something old, but he wasn't sure what, and never had time to think about it before engaging in conversation with his friends and forgetting.

"So, has Snape done anything else odd?" Ron asked, sliding down the tree trunk and sitting on the grass next to Harry. Hermione sat on her bag of books, opening one and starting homework.

"Oh, I dunno," Harry told him, digging into his own bag, eager to take advantage of new free time. "I wasn't really paying attention too well."

"He has been acting a little odd," Hermione told them, picking something up out of her book and looking at it. Harry recognized it as a Prophet snipping like the one they'd poured over in the summer.

"How so?" Ron inquired, as Harry asked, "What's that?"

Hermione answered the Weasley as she handed Harry the snipping. "It doesn't seem like him to jump or lose his balance trying to stand up, does it? I do hope he's not getting ill..."

Ron made a face. "I'm so glad I was able to drop that class."

"It's really quite interesting," Hermione said defensively. "Professor Snape seems so much more relaxed when he's teaching a few of us compared to a full class–"

Harry didn't hear the rest as he read the short article as quickly as possible, insides twisting uncomfortably. Written in large, dark letters across the top of the article was 'Wizard Hospital Attacked, 12 Killed, 7 Injured'. The rest of the clipping described the aftereffects in excruciating detail, but gave no specifics as to the motive for the attack. Several rooms were entirely destroyed, everything, including the patients, thrown together in a large mess. And still no reason...

"Why?" he muttered, handing the clipping to Ron, eyes going to Hermione.

"I'm not sure," she told him, frowning and glancing to Ron, whose face was draining of color. "It just seems like–scare attacks, or something–"

"No... they wouldn't target the hospital for that, though, would they?"

"Well... it would mean easy targets and easier slaughter," the girl said, twitching.

-point of view switch-

Severus rested his head in his arms on the desk. Never before in his teaching career had he had this sort of mental conflict caused by a student–especially one who didn't even realize it.

Harry. Harry. Harry.

"I know," he muttered. "I know..."

I do hope–ill–

He frowned, eyes closed, brows drawing together at the unfamiliar voice in his head. This was also female, but softer. How peculiar. So different from the fierce voice of Furmage...

I'm gl–op that class–

And a male voice. Severus' mouth twitched; this voice he very much recognized. It belonged to the youngest Mr. Weasley, and this told him that the female voice must have been Miss Granger.

Really–te interesting–Pr–Snape seems–laxed when–compared t–lass–

He then felt a very strong rush of progressive horror and nausea. It made his stomach twist, and yet he had no idea why...

Why?

It wasn't himself voicing the question, though, nor was it the Vision. He was hearing a conversation between the three Gryffindors, and it was bringing on a strong headache as the nausea stayed.

I'm n–sure... it just–like–scare attacks, or–thing–

No... they wouldn't target a hospital for that, though, would they? Harry's voice, so clear compared to the other two, echoed through his throbbing head.

Well, it–ld mean ea–gets and–slaughter–

Severus winced as the headache overtook him, and he blindly dug in a drawer of his desk for a cure. His movement seemed to end the connection, and as he found the headache cure, the ache in his head entirely dissolved, along with his nausea.

Grunting, he decided he'd best just get to lunch and not worry about the strange occurrence until he could properly sort it out on his own time.

-scene switch-

Severus?

The word sounded so much like a spoken one that the called upon whipped his head around in search of the speaker, who ended up leaning against the chest where he'd tossed his robes.

What do you want?

The Gryffindor crossed the room, looking down at the Prophet that Severus was holding, searching for what might have been the cause of the sickness he'd felt earlier. From what he'd remembered of the short conversation, it had to do with the attacks on St. Mungo's. If the three were going to go meddling into it, he'd best know what they did.

Harry didn't seem particularly interested in the paper, however, and tugged at his arm. I want to wash your hair.

The Slytherin head stared at him.

I've already cleaned it. I use a cleaning spell after finishing classes every day.

The boy grinned, green eyes illuminated by the candle on the bed stand. Sure, it's clean, but you still need to wash it.

He grunted, turning his attention back to the paper, turning a large page to search the next group of articles.

I think I'd notice if you washed it, Harry told him, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him and bouncing up and down a little.

All the more reasons not to bother, Severus retorted, stubbornly. Harry responded by lying down across the man's lap, crinkling the paper, then groaning when he ended up on the floor, shoved off roughly.

What the hell is so important about that newspaper?

I heard a conversation between you and your two friends, in which I believe an article was mentioned. I'm looking for it.

The boy laughed. You're looking in the wrong paper. He smirked, holding up another newspaper from off the floor at his feet. It was in yesterday's.

And he bolted across the room. Severus groaned and went to him, grabbing for it and missing, tripping into the bathroom and landing on the stone floor, pulling the boy down with him.

The boy stayed still, trapping him on the floor, as the newspaper was on the opposite side of the room, lost in his fall. Please wash your hair. I will show you exactly where the article is if you do.

Severus sighed. Fine.

Great, Harry told him, beaming as he helped him up, pulling him to the shower, and leaning to unbutton the man's shirt.

I thought I was to be washing my own hair, boy.

The Gryffindor pouted.

Ten minutes later, Severus emerged from the bathroom, clad in boxers, to find Harry waiting for him on the edge of the bed holding a very small snipping. He seemed very grumpy, but the boy didn't mind as he walked right up to him and scrutinized his hair. Much nicer, he told Severus, grinning. I'll notice, don't worry.

That's what I was worrying about, the man muttered darkly, walking around him to see the snipping.

Why? Don't you want–

I've just all but complimented the boy, and have been acting so unusual in the past two classes that they've taken notice. And now I'll show up with clean hair! I'm not trying to impress you, damnit!

Isn't that the idea? The boy disappeared with a shrug, leaving Severus with himself; he kicked at the bed, cursing.

-scene switch-

"Ugh," Severus groaned, rolling over in the bed, reaching out for the boy. When he discovered that there was no Harry beside him, he wiped at his eyes, sitting up.

The room was entirely devoid of any green-eyed Gryffindors. At the foot of the bed was the newspaper from the previous day that he'd left there when bolting after the boy. A clock was ticking, so he turned to squint at it.

"Shit!" he muttered, getting unsteadily to his feet and rushing to put on his pants and shirt, battling to get his hair out of his face as he clipped his robes. "Harry, why didn't you tell me that I'd missed my morning classes!"

He wasn't expecting an answer and didn't get one; after grabbing his wand he left, stalking down the corridors to his classroom.

It was empty.

"Damnit." Severus cleaned up a few spilled potions and picked up an overturned chair. He'd sat down behind his desk to grade papers before he noticed the small note pinned to his desk.

It was from Dumbledore. He was requesting his presence in his office during dinner. Severus propped his head on a hand and waited for the students of his next class to file in, looking disappointed that he'd returned.

-scene switch-

Severus had always found Dumbledore's office calming, even if every time he went there, he was given unfortunate news; he imagined that there was some sort of calming charm placed on the room. If so, it would be easy enough to detect with one of several detection potions...

"You probably are aware why I summoned you here, Severus," Dumbledore said, a small smile visible through his beard.

"Yes, I know," the Potions Master began, sighing. "I apologize for missing my morning classes, it won't be happening again."

"Mmhmm." Dumbledore's fingers laced together and he glanced sideways at an hourglass that Severus hadn't even noticed on the desk. "If it's not too absurd to ask, is it that your activities with the vision are getting in the way of your teaching?"

The Slytherin head stared at the headmaster. "Are you implying–I assure you that–my activities with Mister Potter are not getting in the way of my Potions–"

The door opened as the sand in the hourglass ran out, and Harry entered, looking more than a little confused. Severus shut up immediately, mouth snapping shut, and he looked to Dumbledore for an explanation.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter. Please take a seat, anywhere will do." Harry sat down into the leather chair opposite of his teacher's. The white-bearded man smiled at them both. "I suppose you're wondering what I've summoned you for?"

Harry nodded. Severus looked confused. Why was here, involved in a matter of the Gryffindor's? Unless–oh, Merlin, no–

"Now, Harry, your professor and I have decided that it is in your best interest to bring you here so we can discuss the next few months with you."

The Slytherin's eyes had gone wide, and in his head, he pleaded with Dumbledore. The man's eyes flickered to his, and twinkled. The blasted twinkle. How–Dumbledore couldn't seriously think it would be in his best interest to explain the soulmate potion to Harry. Oh, Merlin–

"We've decided that for the next several months, you are going to be taking your Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape again."

Severus' jaw fell open. "Albus, what–" Harry's face held equal dislike of the situation. "When did we discuss this?"

"I do believe that you both have free time on Saturdays at seven in the evening, so this arrangement will do nicely." He beamed. "You are dismissed."

Both Harry and Severus stood at the same time. The Gryffindor glanced at the Slytherin head and then left the room, followed by Severus, after he'd given a long glare to the headmaster.