TITLE: Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel, Chapter Twelve
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.
BETA: The Incredible Irisgirl12000, and all further mistakes are mine.
SUMMARY: Snape does the noble thing, the valiant bastard, and makes everyone miserable. That's what being good does for you.
Chapter Twelve: Severus Snape, Tragic Hero—or Complete Dumbass?
"No, no—you don't need both hands on the broom all the time," Harry corrected. "How are you ever going to catch—I mean, how are you supposed to throw the Quaffle?" Harry shook his head, annoyed that he'd forgotten he wasn't trying to teach Colin to be a Seeker.
"But Harry, that's easy for you to say. You won't fall off!" Colin responded, his smile rather feeble. Who knew that audacious little Colin Creevey was scared of heights?
"You won't, either," Harry told him gently. "You need to learn to use your legs to grip, when your hands are busy." For some reason, Colin let out a long, bubbling, nervous laugh at this. "Anyhow, it's better to do it now, and fall off when you're hardly off the ground."
Colin still looked a little terrified, but gave the Quaffle an underhand toss, the broom bobbing under him. "B—better, Harry?"
"Much!" Weak as a newborn baby, but better. Anyhow, Harry knew the strength training exercises would take care of that. He just needed Colin to get comfortable shooting from the broom, first. "Now, let's get you moving about with only one hand on the handle. It's okay! I'll walk next to you, and I'll catch you if you fall."
Colin looked up at him as though he were speechless. The little blond blinked a bit, his eyes suspiciously wet. "Really? Oh, Harry!"
Harry couldn't help knitting his eyebrows at that, but shrugged it off. Colin was just weird. He was born that way, and he'd probably be that way forever. Leading his fellow Gryffindor around the pitch, Harry called out for him to turn left, or right, or switch hands. "Now, trying going up a couple of feet."
"Wow. Look at me! I'm…pretty high," Colin said excitedly from about ten feet in the air, one hand raised as though he were riding a bucking bronco.
"That's not bad at all, Creevey," a voice came from nearby.
Colin jerked on the broomstick as he tried to see who it was, and toppled from his perch. Harry deftly caught him in his arms, Colin's cloak covering Harry's eyes. "Damn it, Blaise, what are you doing here? And Colin, could you help me out?"
The cloth was yanked down, revealing Colin's excited, adoring face, his eyes huge. "You did, Harry! You promised you'd catch me, and you did!"
Harry flushed with sudden realization. Colin Creevey was crushing on him. Harry gave him a weak smile. Well, at least Colin probably wouldn't be afraid of falling anymore. "Er. Yeah. Said I would, and all. Um. Maybe you should get down." Harry set the boy back on his feet, feeling suddenly awkward.
Blaise walked over, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any accidents. I was just wondering if Harry had seen Professor Snape. He didn't answer his door this morning, and I need to talk with him."
Harry scowled. "What do you need him for, anyway?"
Blaise gave a languid shrug. "He is my Head of House, you know."
"That's not an answer."
"Well, it's all you're going to get."
"Listen, I told you to stay away from him, you—"
"Stop it, both of you!" Colin ordered, surprising Harry into silence. Colin was looking up at them with distress. "We can't be fighting like this—we won't beat Voldemort this way! We have to learn to work together, even if we're from different houses," he said quietly.
Harry was still annoyed with Blaise, but the Slytherin no longer looked willing to pick a fight. "You're absolutely right," Zabini said. "Once again, I apologize." He made his way off the field, leaving two stunned Gryffindors behind.
"What the hell was that about?" Harry said.
"Perhaps we're just not giving him enough credit," the younger wizard suggested, looking thoughtful. Harry doubted this, but didn't argue.
OoOoOoOoO
Snape huddled in his quarters, drinking straight from the bottle. So far, they had made little progress. He was quarantined until someone came up with something useful and That Incredibly Damned Granger had flatly refused to skive off classes to assist. He shuddered, remembering the way she'd whined, 'But Professor, we have NEWTs coming up. I can't fall behind!' And of course the grotesque Gryffindor's behaviour had met with the full approval of her Head of House.
Snape found he couldn't get anything accomplished himself, and it was too dangerous to go about teaching with no inhibitions—for one thing, Longbottom would probably have reached a vicious and untimely demise—so he'd camped out in his rooms. And got drunk. Why not? He wasn't any use to anyone like this. Besides, the Uninhibiting Elixir was like being drunk, but without the more pleasant side effects, so tipping a few back gave the Potions Master a sense of normalcy.
There was a determined tapping at the door, and Snape scowled. It had better not be Harry. He couldn't deal with Harry like this. Albus was right—he'd have to get rid of the boy for a while, for his own good. Anything could happen when that terror was around, and Snape had no brakes. He could just picture it—Harry flat on his back, his robes hitched up under his arms, and Snape leaning over him, declaring, "I love you with the fervour of a thousand white-hot stars, and did you know Lucius Malfoy was our newest spy? Incidentally, when we were your age, he liked to dress in black satin knickers and have his hair pulled. Interesting, no?"
He grimaced. "The damnable DOOR is OPEN!"
A grey head poked round the frame. "I…see. Well, I just wanted to check that you were all right, and see whether I could be of any help," Lupin said.
On any other day, Snape would have delivered any one of the cutting insults in his vast and mighty repertoire. Today, he merely sighed. "Well, you're crap at Potions, so that's out, but if you've a notion, you could put on a tutu, do a little dance and entertain me," he suggested.
Remus blinked. "I think I'd have to have several glasses of whatever it is you're drinking before I'd got to that stage," he said.
"Well, then, pull up a seat," Snape replied. "Grab a glass out of the cabinet."
"Really?" Remus settled uncertainly on the edge of Harry's chair.
"Oh, by all means. I've nothing to do but sulk, which is very ineffective if there's no one to see me do it, and I was feeling rather lonely, in any case. For Harry and his knee-sock clad legs, mostly, but you'll do, if only to piss on."
Lupin held out his glass, making a face. "Thank you," he said dryly.
OoOoOoOoO
After five glasses of firewhisky, Remus was far more interesting—in a predictably whiny and martyrish fashion, of course. He blubbered about all his friends dying on him, he grew nostalgic over his time as a student, and he railed pointlessly about protecting Harry—from Snape, as if the boy weren't facing far worse things than a serious porking.
"Why? Why? D'you really want to know why, Severus? Because everyone's failed him, and I'm all he has left. Because someone needs to try to do what's right—even when it isn't popular. He's just a boy, Severus. Sure, he thinks it's love now. He's seventeen. Sure, he thinks it will last forever. He's seventeen. Do you remember being seventeen, Severus? Do you remember the hopes, the fears, the pain? Do you remember the drama? Nothing was easy. If you got a spot on Friday night, it was the end of the world. If the girl—or bloke—you fancied smiled at you in the hall, you thought it was a consecration from a benevolent God. If someone you rather liked called you a swotty wanker, you locked yourself in the WC and contemplated suicide. It's hell being seventeen years old."
Snape opened his mouth, but Lupin cut him off.
"And don't tell me you don't remember, because half the time, you still act like it."
Severus gave the man a tetchy glare. "Well then, we're just a match made in heaven, aren't we?"
Remus shook his head sadly. "He's just a baby. I 'member changing his ickle nappies. 'S wrong, you taking advantage of him."
"I've not laid one—well, fingers, yes, but nothing else!" Snape told him, affronted. "And I don't care what you say. He's mine, he is. No one and nothing is taking him away from me. 'Cept maybe Dumbledore, or the Dark Lord. They're the only ones strong enough, and I'll fight them tooth and nail—oh, you bet your arse I will."
Remus stared at him through inebriated, myopic eyes. "Do you love him, Severus? To have and to hold, and even to let go if he wants you to? 'Cause that's the important bit—believe me, I know. It's easy to love someone enough to want them around. It's hard to love someone enough to turn your back when you have to."
Snape blinked a little, and turned to stare into the orange flames currently licking the insides of the fireplace. "I love him enough to do anything," he said.
Remus had to wonder why he sounded so despondent.
OoOoOoOoO
Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, grumbling under his breath. "Chin up, mate; I'm in the same boat," Ron told him. "Who'd have thought your boyfriend and my girlfriend would kick us out so they could spend time together?" he quipped. Then his face darkened. "Snape had better keep his hands to himself."
This brought the shadow of a smile to Harry's face. "Why would you worry about that, really?"
Ron shrugged. "Well, if I'm being totally honest, I have to admit he's pretty brainy, and it seems to me Hermione just might go for a bloke like that. I mean, I can't even spell half the spells she knows, let alone carry on intelligent discussions about them."
Harry laughed. "He's got other good points, too. He's really funny, and he's got wicked fingers. He can be a bit sharp, but he usually knows when he's crossed a line, and he doesn't do that so much anymore. Still, I don't think Hermione will be throwing herself on him anytime soon."
"She'd better not," said Ron.
"I'd have to kill her if she did."
Ron grinned back. "A Harry and Hermione catfight. That'd be something people would pay to see. The smartest witch of our year versus the best wizard in our year."
Harry waved a hand. "I'm not the best."
"Sure you are, Harry!" Colin Creevey joined them, beaming at Harry. He plopped down beside Harry on the couch, so close that their legs and shoulders touched, and Harry felt heat creeping into his face.
"I'm not…really," he muttered. He tilted his head. "Where've you been, anyway? You said you were going to work on some studying, didn't you?"
Colin shrugged, nervously rolling his quill around in his fingers. "Well…yeah. I was meeting a tutor for Defence. I just know you're right about Voldemort, and I want to be ready if he tries anything with me! I won't let you down, Harry!"
Harry looked puzzled. "You were meeting a tutor? What tutor? I'm the best at DADA, aren't I?"
"Of course, Harry," Colin assured him with all the fervour of an apostle. "But you said you were too busy, so…"
"So who's tutoring you?"
Colin bit his lip. "Blaise Zabini."
Harry scowled. "Well, he sure gets around, doesn't he?"
Ron snorted.
Colin gave Harry an angry look. "You're not being fair. He was really nice to me tonight, and he didn't have to be." He got to his feet, biting his lip. "I think you ought to try being nicer to him, I really do." He left the room, and Harry watched him with his eyebrows knotted with confusion.
OoOoOoOoO
Snape finally escaped from his rooms for supper, and then hurried back, ready to take another dose of his potion. He had to admit the Granger chit had at least cobbled something useful together, even though it wasn't a cure, and even though he would have to figure something else out, and quickly. With a careful balance of Sobering Solution, Prudish Potion, Taciturn Tonic and a Frugality Filter, Snape was operating normally. More or less.
Now that he could think straight, he'd have to get cracking on a cure. Because alleviating the symptoms was not going to be enough. He knew that even if he seemed normal, and acted as he usually did, he still had a very large problem. Snape would have to devote all his time to it until he'd found something to restore him to full health. Hopefully, he'd be able to do it soon. Very soon.
Because what he didn't tell Granger, what he didn't tell Potter, and what he didn't even tell Albus, although the man likely knew in any case, due to his Legilimency, was that if he didn't halt the effects of the potion soon, the consequences would be dire. His brain chemistry was probably already altered, and disintegrating even as he thought about it.
And Harry couldn't be told anything—because Harry just couldn't get the hang of Occlumency. Snape was going to have to end things between them. He had to, because Dumbledore the bloody Almighty had decreed it, but also because he knew it was the right thing to do. He just didn't know how to go about it without getting into explanations he wanted to avoid.
He swallowed, tearing his eyes away from Granger's notes long enough to add a pinch of demonic shards to the experimental brew that was currently simmering. It would simply have to be a matter of trial and error. He stirred counter clockwise, watching it turn frothy, the bubbles every colour of the prism.
There was a tap at his door. "Come in," he snapped, not looking up.
"Finally. I've been looking for you all day," Zabini's voice said.
Snape heard the door click shut. "Well, you've found me. You have potions first thing tomorrow—I don't see why it couldn't have waited until then." He flicked a glance up long enough to see the boy shrug.
"It's just that Lucius called me out today—"
"Did he?" Severus straightened. "Does he have further information on the potion he gave me?"
Blaise gave him an odd look, but let that pass. "No. The Dark Lord wanted him here today, but he wasn't certain why. It made him uneasy, and I though I should let you know. He had a assignment to get on the school grounds and have a look around, but he doesn't know what he's supposed to be looking for—maybe you, he thinks."
A line appeared between Severus' brows. "That is rather odd. What the devil is he up to now?" The potion turned blue, and Snape promptly took it off the heat, poured a spoonful into a chilled vial, and swallowed it.
"What does that do?" Blaise asked.
"Nothing, most likely." Snape sighed, shelving the vial, and finally turning his attention to Zabini. "I got the impression Malfoy was having difficulties with his current role." He sat beside the youth on the couch.
Blaise shrugged. "Nothing that he can't handle, I don't think. Voldemort wants to know who he knows at the school, but Malfoy won't tell him. He just says he keeps in touch with his son's old school friends. But I don't think—"
Snape grabbed the youth, dragging him close.
"What the bloody—"
"You idiot! You've got a fairy on you!" Snape growled, patting the boy down in a panic.
"Where? Where?"
"It was in your hair," Snape told him. "Bugger all, the Dark Lord probably had it tailing Lucius to find out who his contact is. We'd better get it, before it gets loose and makes a report." With one hand, he frantically skimmed through the boy's thick curls. "There—think it slipped down your neck," he muttered. Blaise had stripped off his outer robes, and Snape was plucking at buttons and digging under Zabini's shirt. His hand scrambled down the youth's chest. Somewhere in the distance, Severus thought he heard a creaking noise, but was too occupied to wonder at it.
"It's—it's—down the back of my trousers!" Zabini squeaked, obviously not cherishing the thought of where it would go next. He was struggling to get his belt and fly undone.
"Wait—wait—oh—just…there!" Snape shoved his wand under Blaise's shirt. His hands closed round the struggling creature, and he pulled it out just far enough to touch it with his wand. "Eradico Phasmatis!" he shouted. The fairy hissed at him, then crumbled to dust in his hand. "Oh, thank god," he groaned loudly.
Blaise, too, was relieved, still breathing heavily, his heart racing. "And thank you," he added fervently.
"You son of a BITCH!"
Severus leapt about a foot, dropping fairy dust all over Blaise. The Potions Master's head swivelled round to see Harry, standing in the doorway, wand clenched in his fist. "Potter," he warned. "Don't do anything stupid."
Harry glared at him with tear-filled eyes. Blaise nervously tried to squirm further down on the couch, so its back would block any spells. "You're telling me not to do anything stupid, when you're in here, getting it on with BLAISE?" Harry said incredulously. "You know, I know you have that Uninhibiting whosits on you, but that's NO EXCUSE for THIS. I mean, that just means you want to do it all the time, you just usually DON'T."
Snape rose, straightening his own robes in the hopes that Harry would notice that they were still fully buttoned. He didn't, of course, but then he'd always been a bit of a blockhead. "Now, Harry, you—" He stopped suddenly, swallowing hard. Albus had been adamant that he cut himself off from the boy while the potion was still in effect. And there wouldn't be any awkward questions—at least, not of the sort he couldn't safely answer. "I'm sorry," he forced himself to say hoarsely, his throat dry. "It won't happen again," he added, knowing it wouldn't matter.
"What?" Potter croaked, eyes now swimming with tears.
"What?" Blaise parroted, for some unfathomable reason sounding angry.
"How could you? Oh, Severus, how could you?" Harry cried. And cried. Snape felt something tighten to an unbearable tautness in his chest.
Blaise got up from the couch, fumbling to do up his shirt. "Now, wait just a second. I—"
Harry was over the couch in a moment, raising his wand to do real damage to the boy.
"Expelliarmus!" Snape rushed out, snatching the wand from the air.
Harry looked at him furiously for a moment before his wrath returned to Blaise. "You slut! You slag! You worthless, underhanded, filthy, sodding, lousy, bleeding—bleeding—bloody—" Potter seemed to be stalling, or running out of adjectives. "You—you—homewrecker!" he finally settled on, hauling off and catching Blaise with a mighty strike of the forehand.
Zabini reeled, and Severus leapt between the boys, yanking the other irritating little prat's wand away as well, before damage could be done. "I have never slept with a married man in my life!" Blaise exclaimed, scandalized. "And you don't know what you're talking about, you stupid little—"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Severus roared. "Potter! Back to your rooms! Now! No, I'm keeping your wand until your Head of House feels it safe to return."
"You greasy bastard!" Harry fumed. "How dare you go messing about behind my back and then act as though you've the right to take my wand?"
Snape dredged up a sneer. "That's the price you pay when you play with the big boys, Potter. It's hardly my fault you got in over your head."
Harry's eyes dilated further in ire, his face flushed with anger and humiliation, and Severus wanted nothing so much as to shove him against the doorframe and snog him silly. "Out!" he managed to rasp.
Harry turned and marched away, his jaw set, his face stony—proud, pretty Gryffindor that he was. He slammed the door behind him so hard that the room seemed to shudder—not an accomplishment to be sniffed at, considering they were ensconced in a stone dungeon.
Snape let out a shaky breath, motioning for Blaise to take a seat.
He was surprised to find the boy nearly on his toes, bristling. "You daft old prick—you've ruined everything!" he hollered.
A/N: OMG, I can't believe I forgot to post this here. I'm so sorry! (Thanks to)
Clen3k: Wow, thanks for reminding me I hadn't put this on ff! I'm glad you think my Snape is still somewhat IC; it's a real challenge to keep him that way, yet have fun, too! I do remember feeling incredibly frustrated reading Fine Lines in regard to the tension, but at the same time, the tension makes it work! Hopefully, they'll get around to it eventually. I'm glad you've enjoyed reading this, as I've enjoyed writing it!
Aeirin: Thanks! It's what I do best.
Sbyamibakura: Well, I'm not sure how things will turn out in the end, but I'll do Snape my way regardless. Um. When I say, 'do Snape…' ; )
Lutheyl: Virtue is what being a Gryffindor is all about. Well, not really. According to Snape, stubborn idiocy is what being a Gryffindor is all about, but he knows how to play on virtue, too.
LeeLeePotter: Thanks so much! I tried to keep the game of 'who's the spy' going as long as I could, but eventually I DID want to spell it out, so there you have it; Lucius is the actual spy, with Blaise as a go-between and Voldemort with no knowledge of his assistance—yet, anyway. But soon there will be further developments, and I hope I'll get everyone guessing again! ; )
Lirael Goldenhand: I know it's not the 'more' you wanted, but I hope this will tide you over!
Johnny Doggspitt: (snickers) Yeah, good old Blaise. But he's got problems of his own, you know…
Aki: Oh, I know what you mean. All the good slash authors spoil us. During the book, I kept wondering when they'd kiss. It's hard to remind yourself that they probably won't. (sigh)
Tris the weatherwitch: I've gotta confess That Damned Granger is a slight rip off of Loupgarou1790's Snape pursues Harry title for her, although I can't remember what it was. Luckily, I don't think Snape is repressing much of anything around Hermione!
Madkornfan: I am rather fond of her at times!
Kelei: Apologies for not updating sooner…I just kinda forgot. Fifty lashes with a greasy noodle, and I promise it won't happen again!
Chantelli: Mmm, Snape in heat. Like Snape on the prowl. Very inspiring!
potter-DorK: You know, aneurysm is one of my favorite words. I dunno why. It just is!
Aribella: I know it was a bit depressing in this chap, but onward and upward, and hopefully the laughter will return!
nox pumilum: Thanks! (giggles) You know, I rather like the word saucy. Haven't seen it lately.
Sweet Mercy: Some of the first fanfic I ever read was Hermione/Snape slash. I don't read het anymore, but I could see that, I suppose. The brains, and all. ; )
Lillyseyes: I can see Harry tearing down the inhibitions eventually. He just needs some privacy, some alcohol, and Snape's undivided attention.
skittles-07: Thanks! I promise the next update won't take so long.
Jenonymous: I did the thwarting right after book six. I needed to thwart something, darn it—thwart it good. Much love!
steffles24: Cookies. Man, I was down to 132.5. Then I went shopping and found the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies of destruction. (cries quietly) Anyhow, thanks! More of Remus' reaction soon!
Purplepaper: Wait until he decides to spruce himself up. Rock Star!Snape!
gussiegal5: Thanks, and your wish is my command!
GryffRavHuffSlythendor: I'd like to bestow some honors and some caramel syrup, too!
BabeGia103: I hope he seems as clever in following chapters! Bad guys are hard to write!
And the canonical Cassie: Well, evil is my metier, you know! And thank you! That's my favorite thing about Snape—the backhanded compliment, or the loving snark. What a man.