TITLE: Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel, Chapter Thirteen
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling, and contains a line from 'The Spoilers.'
BETA: The Incredible Irisgirl12000, and all further mistakes are mine.
SUMMARY: Snape discovers just how unpopular his decision is. Harry makes some unpopular decisions of his own. Someone decides they've had enough, and Harry decides it's time to show Snape what he's really made of.

Chapter Thirteen: Everyone Needs the Occasional Whack on the Head

Blaise Zabini, the little bastard, actually took a swing at Severus. It was a feeble blow, to be sure, and easily warded off, but the bollocks of the boy! "You presumptuous, capricious twit!" Snape said, shocked. "What the hell are you playing at? You know perfectly well that he can't be told the truth!"

To Snape's even greater amazement, Zabini's eyes were beginning to fill with frustrated tears. "You didn't have to go and tell him that," he said through clenched teeth. "You could have made something else up! You could have! Now everyone's going to think I'm letting you bang me. You've ruined my reputation!"

As wretched as things were, Snape could not hold back a guffaw at this. Unfortunately, what started as a "Ha!" became a "Haaaaaeee," when Blaise kneed him in the crotch.

"Shut up, you complete fuckwit!" the boy snarled.

Snape nearly crumpled to the floor, but managed to totter over to his potions cabinet to find something healing, while he awaited such time as he could speak or think clearly again, and hex the living hell out of Zabini.

"You could have just sodding told him the truth—that it wasn't what it looked like, and you couldn't tell him why!" Blaise actually stamped his foot.

"And he would have said, 'Oh, jolly good then,' and let it drop?" Snape responded with a grimace. He found a likely brew and downed it. "He's fucking Harry Potter; he hasn't once listened to me when I've told him to keep his head down or his nose out of things—not in seven years!"

Blaise stared sullenly at the man.

"He'd have kept pushing and pushing, until he'd found out the truth, and put you at risk, you stupid—you imbecilic—you selfish—you opprobrious little git!"

"You're calling me opprobrious? Unbelievable! Did you even spare one freaking thought for how this might affect me before weaving your tangled little web? I'm not the selfish one! You know, you just mope about and act like you're so abused, flitting around in your angsty gothic blackness and bitching about how unfair life is, and you don't give a damn about the rest of us—except pure, sweet Harry, of course. You know, my life isn't exactly a cakewalk, either! I was the first bloody gay to come out of the closet at Hogwarts in generations, and I didn't get parades or roses thrown at my feet for it, although the rest of you were sure quick to take advantage. Now I'm caught up in all this bollocks, with creepy old Lucius Malfoy whispering in my ear, coming straight from the Dark Lord, and it's horrible pressure, which I expect you ought to know. All I wanted was one small, shining thing of my own. Just one god damned chance at someone getting to know me, and appreciate me, and not shag and run or tell me I'm not enough or outright reject me!"

Snape was floored. "What the devil are you on about?"

Zabini looked utterly livid, his usually cherubic face red, his eyes flaming. "Just! Just—Just never mind," he retorted. He snatched his wand away from Severus' nerveless fingers, whipped around, and ran out the door, slamming it in grand Potter fashion.

Snape grabbed another potion and took a spoonful, wishing he could strangle someone. Limping off to find what little remained of his liquor stores, he grumbled angrily to himself. "Fucking theatrical teenagers. I should just sodding let them be and find someone my own age."

OoOoOoOoO

Harry was resting his head in Hermione's lap, snuffling quietly while she stroked his head. Ron sat nearby and made disgusted comments about Blaise, Snape, the whole state of affairs, and Harry trying to take advantage of the situation to make a move on Ron's girlfriend.

"Oh, just shut up," Harry said, wiping his nose and giving Ron a drawn smile.

Hermione thwacked him lightly on the head. "If you try using my robes as a handkerchief, I'm going to have to do you serious physical damage. I just learned all about the Corroding Composition, which eats away your intestines, so you oughtn't mess with me."

"That's gross," Harry muttered, making a face and letting his head fall again.

"That's wicked," Ron contended. "How can we slip it to Voldemort?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think it would work. He's got magical protections like you wouldn't believe. Very few magical things can even hurt him, really, except for Avada Kedavra. He has all kinds of intricate spells protecting his body and mind."

"How do you know all that, then?" Ron inquired.

She gave a demure smile. "Not all of Professor Snape's papers related strictly to the potion he was making at the time. He made others, and was told of others, and he commented on a lot of things. And really—judging by the fact that he knew so much, there must be a lot of other spells protecting Voldemort, because I'm sure Professor Snape didn't know the half of it."

"You're probably right," Harry said, rolling so he could look up at the ceiling. His forehead was wrinkled in concentration. There was something important nagging at him, but he just couldn't quite think of it. "How do we get past all that stuff, then?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione said with a frown. "I keep hoping there will be some incredible, obscure spell out there in a dusty old text, just waiting to be found."

"I don't think so," Harry replied slowly.

"Why not? Sounds possible to me," Ron told him.

"I don't know…can't quite put my finger on it," Harry said, chewing his lower lip. All of his senses were screaming at him that he was forgetting something important, and it was driving him batty. It was like having an itch in his brain. "I just think it's something simpler than that—like—like it'll take two steps, for some reason. Gah! Hermione, why did you have to go and infect me like that?"

"Infect you with what?" Hermione demanded, affronted.

"I don't know. Curiosity, or this mystery, or whatever you want to call it. This puzzle. Now I feel like I have to solve it. I feel like part of me knows how to kill Voldemort, but…there's a trick to it. A secret, overlooked little thing."

"Hmm," Hermione said, as Harry got up and started pacing. "The riddle of Riddle, sort of thing." She and Ron exchanged a smile as Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, brooding.

"I really hate Blaise," he muttered glumly.

Hermione looked conflicted before she spoke up. "Um…Harry? I was thinking…well…you don't think perhaps Snape is doing this for your own good? It's just that he tends to push you away whenever there's likely to be trouble…"

Harry turned on her, eyes flashing dangerously. "You think I don't know that? I'm not thick, Hermione. But I am sick of the bloody high-handed way he takes decisions away from me. I'm not a child. He acts like I am, just because he's so much older—like he expects me to realize adults are always right. THEY AREN'T. I know that. The Dursleys are rarely right. If adults were always right, my parents would still be alive. Sirius wouldn't have gone to Azkaban. Remus wouldn't have to fight to make ends meet. And Severus Blasted Snape wouldn't get his feathers in a flap every time I was in harm's way. No, I don't know if he's really shagging Blaise. But he let me think he was. He took that decision away from me—again."

Ron patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, pleased when Harry kicked at the carpet rather than bursting into tears and hugging him—not that there was anything wrong with that.

"I reckon we're over, for now," Harry told them quietly. "Until my thoughts and feelings carry some weight. Until he starts acting like an adult."

Hermione cleared her throat. "I see. Well…just remember we're here for you. You've got loads of people who care about you."

He gave her a wan smile. "Thanks. I know it."

OoOoOoOoO

Snape pulled Blaise aside after class the next day. Harry had stormed off as soon as his Philtre of Finesse was safely in Snape's hands. Snape noted, with a weary ache in his chest, that Harry hadn't once looked him in the eyes.

Blaise did, though. Blaise scowled at him as though he could win a medal for it. "Stop it, you moronic whelp. I need you to listen to me."

Blaise did not dim his furious glare of indignation.

"It's the first Hogsmeade weekend coming up, and I want you to stick close to Harry."

The boy's eyes widened. "What? Why? And how the hell am I going to manage that, considering circumstances?"

Snape grabbed him by the collar, lifting him so he could glare right back, his own vicious look un-diffused by any amount of distance. "I don't care how you do it," he answered coldly. "Tease him, follow him, taunt him about cuckolding him, flirt with him—but keep him where you can see him, and keep him safe. You know Voldemort's getting bolder. He managed to get something in one of my student's potions, for fuck's sake!"

Blaise rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, yeah…"

Snape threw him bodily out of the room. "Just do it. Don't complain, don't whine, and don't bother me. Just get the job done. And at your first opportunity, you'd best warn Malfoy about that fairy. It likely won't be the last time Voldemort tries something of that nature, so the man had better be on his guard."

Zabini frowned. "We're meant to meet in Hogsmeade, so I'll see what I can arrange. Don't worry; your precious Potter will be safe with me around to protect him."

OoOoOoOoO

Harry swirled his butterbeer round in the bottle, trying not to feel too depressed. It had been two whole days since he'd last spoken to Severus—other than to say 'Yes, sir,' or 'No, sir,'—and the absence of sweet snark in his life was painful. The absence of sweet kisses was even worse. The absence of Snape, of someone he could go to and say, 'Gah, I had to watch Ron and Hermione snog during break,' or 'I had a nightmare that Colin Creevey turned into Voldemort and demanded I take him to the winter ball,' or 'I fell off my broom at Quidditch, please kiss it and make it better,' was driving him mad.

His first trip of the year to Hogsmeade wasn't turning out very fun. He looked round the table at Ginny, who was fluttering her eyelashes at him, Colin, who was trying to do the same, and Ron and Hermione, who were ignoring their antics.

"No, you can't use crushed snake fangs," Hermione was saying to Ron. "They're too strong. That's the biggest problem with this potion—it's so unstable! In order to come up with any cure, it's going to require a delicate balance. I hope Professor Snape's having better luck with it than I am."

"You're really insensitive, you know that, Hermione?" Ginny demanded. Hermione looked up, surprised. "After what Snape did to Harry, why are you even trying to help him?"

Harry felt his face go red. It was weird, because he'd been rather thinking that himself. And he'd been wishing someone would stand up for him. It was nice to have someone take his side, but at the exact same time, it was embarrassing, too. "It's okay, Ginny," he muttered, wishing she'd lay off.

"Well, I can't just let—"

"Oh, talking about my boyfriend, are we? Dear Granger, I can't tell you how grateful Snookums and I are that you've lent a hand." Blaise gave the woman a sneaky grin.

Hermione's mouth was still open, and stayed that way.

Blaise took a seat across from Harry. "I can't believe you, you slut!" Ginny exploded. She turned to Harry. "Just ignore him; he's only doing it to get attention."

"Believe me, I get all the attention I want down in the dungeons. I don't need it from Virgin Boy or his even more maidenly side-kick."

Ginny gasped. She wasn't wearing a fishnet outer robe for nothing. "I'm not maidenly," she protested.

"I meant Creevey," Blaise responded, rolling his eyes.

Colin looked a bit hurt and confused. "I'm just saving myself for someone who really cares about me," he protested in a small voice.

Harry put an arm around him. "Good on you, then!" he said loudly. "And so am I. There's nothing wrong with it—and I'm glad I have, because so far, anyone I might have slept with would have only been an horrific mistake." Colin leaned into his embrace admiringly.

Blaise looked strange. His eyes were glittering, but he didn't look the least bit happy. He also seemed to be twitching a bit, and staring at Colin Creevey.

"And if you think I'm going to get jealous over you and Snape, think again," Harry added angrily, trying to pull Zabini's attention back to him. "I don't care what the two of you do. It's not like I'm hurting for company."

"That's right!" Ginny piped up. "I'd take care of Harry's needs anytime!"

"Oh, ew!" Ron exclaimed. "That's just—look, I understand about the—I want him to be straight, but don't say things like that!" he sputtered.

Harry tried to be more gentle. "Ginny, I love you. I just don't see you that way—and I never will. You're a girl, and I…reckon I'm always going to like blokes more. If I kissed you, it would be a sort of lie, you understand? I'm sorry."

Ginny stared down at the table. "What are you saying?" she asked in a strangely shrill voice. "That I should just give up? That there's no hope?"

Silence. "None whatsoever," Harry affirmed softly. He flicked a look at Colin. "I'm afraid it'll only be boys that capture my heart," he said. Ginny sighed, got up and left the table. Her knuckles were white, her fists were clenched so tight. Harry looked away.

Blaise was sweating. "Oh, please, Potter—your phony modesty doesn't fool me a bit. You just love to be hero-worshipped, whether it's a bloke doing it or not."

"That's not true!" Colin squeaked. "Harry doesn't like the attention—he's really pretty shy!"

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Colin, good to know you pay attention," he said. Then he realized he still had his arm around the boy. Well, it could be worse, couldn't it? Colin Creevey was living proof that Harry wasn't completely unwanted. Then he realized he was still staring down at Colin, who was starting to blush brightly in response, a vivid pink spreading across his the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks.

Harry slipped a hand under Colin's chin—not that he needed to, because you could have dragged Voldemort into the room and set him on fire right next to them, and Colin Creevey probably wouldn't have looked away. Harry leaned forward slowly, and pressed his lips softly to Colin's. Colin was frozen for a long moment before he worked up the courage to kiss back. He was clumsy, but very earnest. "You just be true to yourself," Harry said hoarsely after he pulled away.

Colin's eyes were like saucers, and he raised a hand to trace his lower lip with his fingertips. "Oh. Oh. Gosh," he said. "That—that was—oh, Harry," he murmured in a hushed voice.

"Oh, EW," Ron said loudly, and Hermione smacked him in the arm.

"Stop that," she ordered. "We agreed to be supportive!"

But Ron wasn't the only one who looked unaccommodating about the situation. Blaise was ramrod straight in his chair, his face white with rage. "You're being stupid, Creevey," he said in an oddly quiet voice. "Potter doesn't want you. He's never going to want you. He's upset about Snape, and he's lashing out. And—as always—he's not taking anyone else's feelings into account about it."

Harry blushed, infuriated that Blaise felt the right to stick his nose in again. Worse, he felt just slightly ashamed, because there was a slim possibility the Slytherin was a little bit right. "Mind your own business!" he snarled. "Besides, Mister Moral High Ground, when exactly have you ever taken anyone else's feelings into consideration?"

Blaise ignored him, and didn't take his eyes off of Colin. "He hasn't forgotten Snape. He won't. For you, it's a simple matter of no one else will do. For Potter, it is the same. Understand that, if you understand nothing else," he said, and by the finish, his voice was so fatigued that the rest of the table almost couldn't hear it. He pushed his chair back, the legs shrieking against the floor. "I need a drink," he added, and left.

Harry stared after him, feeling the heat drain away from his face, the pride slip from his expression, and worst of all, the comfort he'd been taking in this—knowing that it would get back to Snape—bleed away, leaving him hollow again. He leapt up from his seat. "I'm going out for a bit." He barely heard Colin behind him, saying something about having something he needed to do, as well. Harry roughly pushed the door to the pub open, and stepped out into the cool afternoon air.

What right did Blaise have to do that, anyway? What right did he have to steal Snape away, and then make Harry feel empty and isolated, like his insides had been removed with an ice-cream scoop? What right did he have to go spouting off to Colin Creevey, of all people? Harry kicked a rock in the street, wincing when it caromed off a window. It just wasn't fair.

OoOoOoOoO

Lucius glanced at his pocket watch, tapping his cane impatiently. A small noise at the mouth of the alley indicated that someone was coming. "Finally," he breathed, turning. "I've better things to do with my life than skulk about in the dark, waiting for—" He broke off when he saw the teary, frustrated adolescent eyes gazing up at him.

"Take me to Voldemort."

"What?"

"Take me to the Dark Lord. Now." A chin raised, pride coming before a fall. "I'm joining him, you see. I'm demanding you take me. If you don't, he'll hear about it. And he won't be pleased." Lucius eyed the grim smile with some trepidation. "I'm worth something, to him."

Malfoy inhaled a sharp, surprised breath. "What manner of treachery is this?" he demanded, eyes darting, hoping for something to distract, something of use. Why had he and Blaise decided to meet in Hogsmeade, where a dark spell would be noticed? Where guards patrolled, looking out for Potter? Where Lucius was impotent?

"Don't be stupid," came the flat response. "He doesn't want me. He's never going to want me. I see that now." Lucius didn't follow, but he got the feeling he wasn't meant to. He observed the gulp, a wince, features flickering as they were mastered. "But with the Dark Lord's help, maybe he will. And that's all I want. That's all I've ever wanted."

"You'll regret it." The words had slipped out before Malfoy could stop himself.

His young companion smiled tightly. "Then so will everyone else."

OoOoOoOoO

Snape scribbled in a margin, one foot tapping against the leg of his chair. He felt ready to scream. He'd taught his classes, eaten his lunch, graded papers, and was left with a handful of hours in which to search for a solution to his condition—if he didn't bother with sleep, that is. He hadn't been lately. He'd just been downing potions to take care of that. There would be a price in the long run, but if he didn't cure himself soon, there wouldn't be any long run. Time was slipping away from him like water through a sieve.

Tonight, he'd given up on the fumes of his laboratory and had settled in his study with a number of promising books. Pince was going to have a complete meltdown when she discovered he'd been writing in them. Still, he couldn't help himself—it was an old habit, difficult to break. Besides, the librarian could go bugger herself. If she didn't like it, she could kick his corpse when he failed.

There was a knock at the door, and Severus blew a breath out through his teeth. "I really don't need company tonight," he called out, hoping whoever it was—Dumbledore, Lupin, Blaise, McGonagall—would get the hint and sod off.

The door swung inward. "I'm not here to enjoy your company," a frosty voice informed him. Snape looked up, astounded, to see Harry's composed face in the doorway. "I merely came because you still need to work on the Patronus Charm. You're a liability without that skill, when there are Dementors all over the place."

Snape blinked a bit. "What? What are you…you're risking having your eyes fall out from exposure to Zabini's sexual acrobatics in order to offer me your talents as a tutor?"

Harry's face remained carefully blank. "Yes. I'm not a child. I can accept that…that you've…that things were not as they seemed, and that our relationship, such as it was, is over. That doesn't excuse me from involvement in the upcoming war, and it doesn't exempt you, either. This is something that has to be done, that's all." The boy's voice was flat.

Snape looked down at his lap, the words unrestrained, wild, and unmanageable leaping from the page and burning into his eyes. "I really don't have time for it, right now," he responded, keeping his voice as casual as possible.

"I've already okayed things with the Headmaster, so I'm afraid that's just too damn bad," Harry responded. He waved his wand, shoving all the furniture against the walls. "I've taken the liberty of having Filch stick a Boggart in your liquor cabinet," he added.

"Oh, thank you very much," Snape said bitterly. "And here I'd avoided it because it kept jerking about and I'd thought I'd come down with delirium tremors or something."

Harry offered a mirthless smile. "Wand out, Severus." He waited until the man rose from his seat, and walked to the cabinet. "After it sees me, it will become a Dementor. Then I want you to step forward and cast Expecto Patronum. You need to concentrate on a happy memory while doing so. Understand?"

Snape bit his lip. He really didn't have many happy memories, and most of those were tied to Potter. He certainly wasn't in much of a situation to appreciate them now. Damn Albus for making arrangements behind his back.

"Ready?" Harry asked, lowering his hand to the lock on the cabinet.

Snape nodded. The catch was released, and a vague form floated out. After being near the boy for a few moments, it swirled, gathering itself together, taking form. Harry stared up at the Dementor hovering in front of him. "Now!" he commanded.

Snape had his wand up before he'd thought twice, such was the implacability of Potter's order. "Ex-expecto Patronum," the Potions Master grunted, trying to recall the day Fudge had said he'd get an Order of Merlin, back when he'd thought he'd caught Black out trying to murder Harry. Nothing much happened, except for a trickle of insubstantial mist coming from his wand. The Dementor turned on him, beginning to shift, and he gripped his wand more tightly. The world suddenly became very cold. "Expecto…" he whispered, trying to swallow his shame.

"Expecto Patronum!" Potter barked, and the great stag Patronus leapt from his wand, corralling the Boggart back into the cabinet. Harry reached into the pocket of his jeans. "Here," he said, not unkindly, offering Snape a hunk of chocolate. "It gets easier. Try to think of something happier."

Snape took a bite of the bitter, smooth slab, closing his eyes as the warmth permeated him. A better memory. He thought about the time Harry kissed him, up in Trelawney's closet. "All right," he managed. "Let's go again."

This time, his Patronus fought to take shape, a shimmering outline of something between himself and his foe. Either somewhere outside of reality, or somewhere within himself, Snape could hear Harry. 'You think I WANTED to fall in love with you?' Blaise's voice: 'I can't cheer for you, but I can give you something, like, for luck…' Lupin's voice: 'Oh, my God. Severus, I think I found Harry.' He remembered holding Harry as he shuddered violently, in the throes of agony after repeatedly enduring the Cruciatus Curse at the hands of the Dark Lord. The cold settled into Severus' chest, and Snape could no longer keep fighting. He fell to his knees, drained, and Potter stepped in, driving the Boggart-Dementor back again. "Are you all right?" he asked sharply.

Snape pressed a hand to his head, nodded untruthfully. It was useless, really. He wondered why he bothered. A hand reached under his chin, forcing his head up. "Go on, open your mouth," Harry said impatiently, pressing a bit of chocolate against Severus' lips. Snape sucked a bit of cocoa from a fingertip, and Harry said nothing.

The Potions Master stood, feeling much improved. "Thank you," he muttered.

Harry's eyes were shut. "I think that's enough for tonight," he said. "We'll try again tomorrow."

Snape saw him to the door, and watched him all the way down the hall. Harry walked with purpose in his steps, and Severus puzzled awhile before realizing; the boy had faced his own fears tonight, and--unlike Severus--he'd mastered them easily. It was difficult to reconcile the temperamental boy Harry often was with the one who'd been present tonight. Despite his youthful face and delicate frame, Harry had handled things with aplomb.

Perhaps it took as much upheaval as they'd recently undergone for Snape to see the student in a different perspective. It was odd to think Harry had sustained such changes, and Snape hadn't even noticed. He shook his head a bit, closing his door.

Harry Potter was becoming a man.

Thanks to:

Tris the weatherwitch: I like school. When I can afford it. If I had the choice, I'd do nothing but learn, all my life. Still, if school interferes with my story, it is evil and must be killed. ; )
Aki: Cheer up, it's always darkest just before dawn!
Aribella: Homewrecker is one of my favorite words, it really is!
discontinued-me: Ah, yes, Junior. He'll have to have a cameo here shortly!
im-a-daydream-believer: Explanations will only be forthcoming after you've cleaned your room and washed the dishes and taken over the world for me! ; )
Chantelli: Well, I don't know if you'll read it on a weekend, but this is being updated on a weekend!
Lutheyl: Aw, I'm rather fond of the character of Colin. Hugh Whatshisface is a real cutie.
Johnny Doggspitt: Yeah, kind of a cliché thing, but they'll work their own plot into it eventually. Like Harry here! I'm trying to update here, too, but I keep forgetting. I'm such a ditz that way!
Purplepaper: Oh, I'm glad you noticed my 'ouch' line! One of my faves.
Kelei: If I had a bigger brain and an extra set of hands, I'd update more quickly. I'd be freakish and miserable, no doubt, but there would be frequent updates!
Lady Darkness13: Aw, can't have Snape 'normal,' until I've finished with the potion as a plot device! Besides, the only normal people are the ones you don't know very well.
Sweet Mercy: He's not so much mean as he is misguided. ; )
GryffRavHuffSlythendor: It took a lot of thought to get them into a compromising position, because I don't think Snape would normally touch Blaise, let alone undress him!
Klondike Bar: Poor Blaise? Hopefully that's an indication of my evil plan working…
Lotrox: Yeah, I do like the cliffies and the occasional angst! But there's always humor, too…
potter-DorK: I think there will probably be more Molly eventually…
steffles24: (laugh) Actually, I think poor Harry gets about twice the teen drama of the other kids. Nothing is easy for him, is it? Come on, he's got to be a bit warped by now. And well, you know Hermione…she has to be sensible. I hope the Blaise stuff works!
BabeGia103: Well, Snape thinks he's being noble. Harry's smarter than he acts, though!
And the Cosmopolitan Cassie: Squee! I'm glad you like my depiction of Colin! He's so much fun to write.