TITLE: Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel, Chapter Seventeen
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling.
BETA: The Incredible Irisgirl12000 (who helped enormously with the scientific bits), and all further mistakes are mine.
SUMMARY: Hermione gives Snape her potion, hoping to cure him. Snape reveals to Harry the contents of the letter he received. Harry tries to keep Snape at arm's length, so Snape sets out to win Harry back—his way.

Chapter Seventeen: Severus Snape, Back and Better than Ever

Everyone seemed to lean forward in anticipation as Severus lifted the vial to his lips, then paused, dabbed a finger in it to check the temperature, and then demanded to know what had gone into it.

"For fuck's sake, just drink it already!" Ron raged. "You can't seriously think Hermione would poison you!"

"Calm down," Hermione soothed. "He has every right to ask—it's his body, after all!" She beamed, clearly pleased to have all the attention on her, and everyone on tenterhooks for her insight. "I thought there was a problem with destruction, perhaps on the cellular level, but it didn't correlate the way we thought it did; while you lost control, breaking down on an emotional and behavioural level, your brain was actually amassing the potion. It built up and—well, I'm not positive exactly what it's doing, but I have a few ideas. For one thing, it seems likely that it's causing a build up of proteins, preventing normal neuron function. Plus, it's causing your pituitary gland to overproduce, flooding your system with endorphins, which make you feel as though you can do no wrong, and likely affecting the productions of the other pituitary hormones as well, though I don't think your prolactin function was affected, because otherwise you wouldn't have attempted to er, get into Harry's pants, although I can't be sure, as I haven't had a chance to look at your brain—"

"Hermione? Could you try that again in English?" Harry said in a pained voice.

"She's saying that it's primarily hormonal, you nincompoop," Snape responded. "And she can't possibly be right. Because it would have affected me in other ways aside from my behaviour," he added after thinking it over.

"But it did," Hermione insisted. "You've been dizzy, haven't you? Harry saw you pass out, and Madam Pomfrey said your lack of balance was behind her decision to keep you in bed. I don't think you've been getting enough oxygen, either. The potion is still stored somewhere in your brain, swamping your glands and nerves, making proteins accumulate and aggregate, preventing your synapses from functioning correctly. We have to force it to dissipate—to—to cause it to break down and hopefully be reabsorbed or—here, read this," she finally said, shoving a book at Harry.

Harry adjusted his glasses, squinting down at the passage. "Um. …a hemo-encephalic barrier exists to protect cerebral tissues from most of the drugs going though the body tissues, the barrier can be breached by concussions, intoxication, potions or curses…which result from the sudden flushing of the brain with certain hormones… Suppose that dopamine, which is a neurotransmitter, generally clutters the passages: the results would be a universal set of schizophrenic behaviours. Remove a large proportion of them and we revert to…"(note) Harry read aloud. "Hermione! I only understand about one word in ten, here!"

"Give me that," Snape said, snatching the book out of his hands. "Yes…I see. A build up of protein plaques might cause poor coordination, loss of motor control, and eventually affect my heart rate and breathing, while the hormonal deluge would lead to a loss of inhibition. Where did you get this?"

"That's the book someone stole from my chambers," Remus interjected, consternated.

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Well, I didn't take it," she said. "Harry did mentioned that you'd confiscated a book from him, but this was still in his pile of books from the library the other day, so I assumed he'd been talking about a different one."

"Never mind that now," Severus cut through the confusion. "It has here the instructions for an Eliminative Elixir, but it's a terribly advanced potion; no seventh year student could—"

Harry cleared his throat meaningfully.

"Ah. No seventh year student outside of the brilliant, gracious, and bloody annoyingly all-knowing Granger could concoct it. I concede, and I'll take the potion," Severus corrected himself. He swallowed the lot in one gulp, and looked round at everyone.

"Do you feel any different?" Colin squeaked in trepidation.

"I feel more displeased than ever that you're here ogling me," the man offered, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, it has become something of a carnival," Professor McGonagall intervened. "And according to the text, it may take some time for the potion to work, so I think everyone had best let Severus get his rest. It does you credit that you're all so concerned about your Potions Master, but he's in capable hands, and—"

"But I was the one who did all the research," Hermione protested.

"That's all right; I need to talk to you in any case," Remus told the girl, leading her away. Ron followed, looking curious.

"And Mister Zabini, I'd like to speak with you in private," Minerva said, as Hagrid shooed an arguing Colin and Ginny out of the room.

In a matter of moments, Harry found himself alone with Snape. He had to hide a grin, wondering if he could get the man to say something dirty now that no one else was around to bother them. Raking his hand through his hair, Harry turned to the man—only to find him flat on the bed, snoring gently.

Oh, damn, Harry thought. He'd missed yet another opportunity to get some quality git time. Well, perhaps it was for the best.

OoOoOoOoO

Snape awoke to the revolting scent of something sweet. "What is that stench?" he asked.

"They're roses," Harry's voice answered. "And they don't stink! Plus, they add a bit of colour to the room."

Snape glared over at the boy, who was arranging them in a cut-crystal vase on the windowsill. They were pink.

Harry blushed. "They were the only ones Sprout had that weren't dangerous," he explained. "And I thought they might cheer you up."

The man heaved a weary sigh. "Fine. You've filled your quota of do-gooding for the day. Now snuggle off and bother someone else. Perhaps you could go put spells on puppies and make them sparkly or something."

Snape could see those pretty lips twist in an effort not to smile. "Not until I know you're back to normal. Or back to less completely unbearable, at any rate."

Severus looked away. "Was it really so bad?" he asked quietly.

Harry turned his back, busying himself with the flowers. "No…not as such. Not until you tried to strip me in public, anyway. I might be more or less used to everyone looking at me by now, but that's a level of exhibitionism that I'm really not comfortable with."

The man gave a snort. "Flowers, I ask. You really don't know me at all, do you?"

Harry gave him a look. "I also brought you a bottle of scotch, but Pomfrey confiscated it."

The Potions Master actually managed a thin smile. "I suppose you do know a thing or two about me after all."

Harry cleared his throat meaningfully, and took a seat on the edge of the hospital bed. "They tried to toss me out on my arse, but I wasn't having any of it; not until you and I had a chance to talk."

"More ominous words I've never heard, outside of Voldemort's 'I have a plan,' the Weasley twins' 'What happens if…' and the Headmaster's 'I need a favour.' But do go on."

Harry grinned, but it seemed a little strained. "Has Dumbledore really disappeared?"

Snape looked down at his hands. "I received an owl from Moody yesterday indicating that the Headmaster never arrived at their arranged meeting place after his oh-so-secret mission. Moody is convinced the man was taken by the Dark Lord. I don't know the veracity of the statement, at the moment."

"Are you telling me this because your pituitary gland is out of control?"

An elegant hand reached out to flick the boy's ear. "I'm telling you this because you make an even larger pig's ear out of things when I leave you uninformed. And because I seem to have the choice of what I tell you, I'm choosing to tell you the truth."

"And is the truth that you slept with Blaise? Ever?"

"…No. I did not. But…you're very persistent, and I was frightened of what you might drag out of me if you kept prying, which you would undoubtedly have done."

"Like what? What could you tell me that was so horrible? More horrible than you buggering Blaise Zabini?"

Snape took a very deep breath. "Well. Many things which I still cannot divulge. And—I had sexual relations with Lucius Malfoy at one point in time, for instance. It's not something I'm proud of," he added in a rush, "but he was a few years older than myself and everyone was very impressed with him, and he accepted me for who I was, or seemed to, at any rate. And he was very rich and well-connected, so…I was enamoured of him."

To Severus' mild shock, Harry appeared to think this over, instead of flaring up. "Well," he said grudgingly, "I suppose I can't really blame you. He's awfully handsome, even if he is an evil berk. But really, you should have known there was no depth to him—he's all show."

Snape flicked a glance at him. "There's an unfortunate depth to him, actually; the kind that lurks in shadows and drags you under. But that's neither here nor there. I am glad that you don't appear too upset," he said tentatively.

"It'd have been far better if you told me the truth in the first place," Harry chided.

Severus was thinking of all the other things Lucius was at the moment, and all of the things he still couldn't tell Harry, and chose not to answer directly. He certainly wouldn't remind the boy that there were Order secrets that still needed keeping. "I'm pleased that things seem to be getting back to normal," he said. "I look forward to…resuming our relationship, if you'll still have me?" He arched a brow inquiringly.

Harry looked down for a long moment, his face uncharacteristically pensive. "I do still have feelings for you," he said. "But I don't enjoy being toyed with, or lied to, or having the difficult decisions taken out of my hands, even if you think it's in my best interests to do so." He stood and strolled to the door. "In other words, Severus, I might be willing to take you back—but you're going to have to earn it."

Severus watched the boy go, a thin smile on his face. So Harry Potter wanted to be won and wooed, did he? Severus Snape could do that. In fact, he looked forward to the challenge.

OoOoOoOoO

Blaise stared at the wall, unseeing, his face pale. With Dumbledore gone and Snape angry with him, he had absolutely no one on his side. It was the story of his life, really—just on a rather more epic scale. McGonagall had informed him that he wouldn't be going home for the holidays, and that he wasn't to be left alone for any reason.

He'd half-expected to be sent straight to Azkaban, just on the off-chance that he'd somehow managed to vanish the Headmaster when no one was about.

This was ridiculous! He was just seventeen! What did he know about taking on someone as experienced and powerful as Dumbledore? He just did what he was told! Malfoy came and explained what to do, and said the Headmaster had declared there was not enough time to do anything else, and Blaise had shrugged and done it. He hadn't wanted to. He'd assumed the adults had everything under control.

Right. Like always, he bitterly realized. This was one more example of how everyone who took charge was completely incompetent and unqualified to do things like taking charge. He should have known better than to get involved. He should have kept his head down.

What if Dumbledore and Potter lost? What if Voldemort won? He'd be killed as a traitor, he supposed, although he wasn't certain the Dark Lord would find out his allegiances, so it was possible he'd be all right. It was the Mudbloods and the Muggle-borns who'd be killed.

"Blaise? Are you okay?"

He looked up through a thick window of unshed tears, blinking until they fell, surprising him. He hadn't even realized he'd been about to cry. He didn't feel anything. Maybe he really was as awful as everyone said—he could sit here crying his eyes out, not feeling anything at all.

"Oh!" Colin wrapped his arms around Blaise's head, pulling him close to his slim chest. "Don't cry," Colin whispered. "Everything will be all right. I promise."

"They think I'm a traitor," he choked out. "They're going to kill me. Someone stole a stupid book, and everyone saw me with it—despite the fact that they saw me give it to Granger—and now they all think I've done in Dumbledore. They think I betrayed the Headmaster and Harry and everyone, and they all hate me—they all—"

"Shh. No one hates you. They just don't understand you very well."

Blaise gave a bitter laugh. "And they sent you to guard me? Don't they realize I've taught you everything you know?"

"What they realize is that I'm your friend, really and truly," Colin responded patiently, stroking the Slytherin's dark curls. "I'm sorry you're having to go through this," he added.

This made Zabini's chin tremble, but he refused to continue crying. He was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Slytherins didn't cry. They made other people cry. That was the whole point of being a Slytherin. Still, it was rather nice to have a…friend. "Thank you," he said, the words muffled against Colin's shirt.

Colin kissed him lightly on the top of the head, bringing a rare genuine blush to Blaise's cheeks. "Maybe I'm not as good at certain things as some people are, so I'm not always the best person to have on your side," he admitted. "But I'll always stand up for a friend, and I'll always be there when you need me."

Blaise pulled away long enough to give Colin a frail smile. "You really are thick sometimes," he whispered. "Don't you realize how amazing you are? You're always selling yourself short, just because Potter is too stupid to see how—how clever and kind and constant you are. Snape's always saying that all Gryffindors have brains half the size of Snitches, and I'm beginning to think he's right."

Colin smiled, sitting down beside the Slytherin and taking his hand. "Look, I know you're not the traitor. We'll find a way to prove it. I don't know how, but we will."

Blaise gave the boy an appraising look. "There's really only way to prove that I'm not a backstabbing double agent."

Colin frowned. "How's that?"

"Find the one who is."

OoOoOoOoO

Severus breezed into Madam Malkin's, brushing a leaf from his shoulder. Madam Malkin was busy with another customer, but her assistant bowed his head fractionally toward Snape.

"Ah, Professor. What can we do for you this fine fall afternoon?"

"Take over the world, build me a mighty empire, and then huddle in trembling masses at my feet," Snape intoned.

The young man looked unsettled, his gaze straying to Snape's left arm. Some spots never got rubbed off, apparently, by dint of soap or sacrifice.

Severus sighed just a little. "I'm in need of a few outfits," he said. "It's been a good while since I've had anything new, and I'd like to find something…different."

The man cocked his head. "I see. What sort of 'difference' did you have in mind?"

Snape felt a bit at sea. Harry took the occasional interest in fashion, but the subject held no fascination for the Potions Master. He'd never have admitted in a million years that most of his clothing was specially tailored to billow, nor that stark black and buttons vaguely reminiscent of those found on military uniforms had been painstakingly chosen to evoke that authoritarian, 'I'll make you widdle yourself if you hack me off' look.

"Er…I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. Thus far, he'd dressed primarily to awe, not to enchant. He really didn't even know where to start. He could, upon thinking back, recall Lucius once going on about how his robes were chosen to bring out the lustre of his eyes, but that didn't really offer much guidance. "What would you say were my greatest…ah, 'assets?'" he inquired. "In the arena of charm or attraction, I mean."

The assistant looked over to Madam Malkin, and they responded, "Your voice," in unison.

Snape sighed, thinking that this was not a great help, and inclined his head. "Very well. Get me an outfit that accentuates my voice," he said dryly.

As he left the shop an hour later, a large package tucked under his arm, he passed the Weasley twins lolling outside their store, and shocked them both by giving them a smirk and a congenial wink.

"Oh, my God, Fred—Snape is flirting with you!" George howled.

George elbowed his brother hard. "Shove it! He was looking at you!"

"Nuh-uh—besides, you were the one who said he'd be sex on a stick if he'd just wash his hair!"

"You were the one who went through his underwear drawer!"

"Only to put Venezuelan Vampire bats in it!"

"I always wondered who got past my wards," Snape muttered, still walking away.

"Admit it—you fancied him!"

"Your mother!"

Sighing, Snape heard the sounds of two boys trying to hex each other silly somewhere behind him. On one hand, it was very nice to be out of the dungeons, seeing the leaves changing colour, feeling the brisk fall air…on the other, cretins like these reminded Snape why he loved his dungeons so very much. He was eager to get back to them, and maybe try on his new clothes.

OoOoOoOoO

"Harry, I'm awfully sorry to say this, but I don't think my potion was entirely a success."

Harry looked up from his massive tome, So You Want to Defeat a Dark Lord, to frown at Hermione suspiciously. "What? Why?"

"These," she replied, dropping a bunch of flowers before him. "They were from Snape. With a note. It says, "With my deepest gratitude, etc., etc. Prof. Snape." Isn't that disturbing?"

Harry spared them a grin. Re-gifting git, he thought. "I taught him that, I think," he said. "Last time we fought, he brought me flowers to make it up. I guess he figured that if it worked once…"

"But we didn't exactly have a fight," she pointed out.

"No, but he was rather rude, and how else is he supposed to thank you? It'd probably kill him to give Gryffindor points over it."

"Well, I suppose. Especially after Professor McGonagall gave me a hundred for saving the life of a teacher."

"Yeah," Harry said, his grin fading. "She's really worried about Dumbledore, isn't she?"

"We all are."

"I'm going to do something about it."

"Harry…fools rush in, you know. Be careful."

"I'm trying. But every time I turn around, Voldemort's killed someone else I care about. It's got to stop."

Hermione looked rather sad. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I'll keep digging."

Harry went back to his book, his face set with grim determination. "So will I."

(note) This passage taken almost in its entirety from "HOMO SCHIZO II: Human Nature and Behavior," by Alfred de Grazia, which is an excellent and very informing read.

Thanks to:
Sobs-for-snuffles: Hee! Well, he doesn't exactly stay the same, but I think he's improved…
Qfan: Aren't we a wiseass? ; ) You're like my uncle, who once answered, when I told him "You can't have everything; where would you put it?" immediately replied, "Everywhere." Anyhow...It's getting there, I swear!
Riley Cat: Thanks! But Lupin's got the right idea about something…
chrissy9115: Thank you! I'm hard at work on the next chapter!
Angelic Minds: I'm so glad you like it!
Sbyamibakura: Aw, Snapie plushies? For me? Thank you!
Chrliii: Well, Snape has said it before, and Harry's still feeling a bit sulky. I'm sure he'll come round, though. Who can resist the Snape?
Purplepaper: Thanks! They'll end up together eventually, I'm sure. Snarry will conquer all!
Hoshiko-Malfoy: Oh, good! I am trying to get it going, but I'm also hosting a fic exchange (naughtynewyear on live journal) and writing drabbles for everyone involved, so I'm about ready to pass out.
potter-DorK: (beams) Thank you! I was worried because it was a bit of a take-off of Veritas Vos Libarabit, but I just enjoy it so much…And hey, when you're new, you're fairly open minded and might squirrel out stuff us jaded folks wouldn't notice.
Chantelli: (giggles) Oh, how I love that Seuss. And Richard Scarry; did you ever read his stuff? He was brilliant! Oh, and how I ADORE pen and umbra, except for the fact that I'm terminally envious. Really, I honestly CAN'T read her stuff, because it makes me weep with jealousy.
BabeGia103: Thanks!
Tris the weatherwitch: Hee! Thank you! I figure most of you want to beat Blaise to a pulp. I feel kinda bad for him. Ohh, bacteria. Eat lots of yogurt! Um, or stay away from it, if you're having the opposite problem.
Aribella: To be fair, there are a lot of things better than Catholisism. Um. But I really considered having Snape go as a priest for Halloween, and Harry as an alter boy, which puts a whole new spin on an old religion. Wee!
Sweet Mercy: Glad you weren't too disappointed!
Kelei: They are like two ships…er…colliding in the night…slowly…
Jenonymous: One of my favorite reviewers! Oh, you're noticing things, you noticing noticer, you! I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like Blaise, but there are one or two that were hot enough to get away with murder. Sexy brats that they were. Hee! I'm really surprised by how popular the line about buggering James' son was. Don't worry; more unmitigated filth to come! Ah, such a pun-maker I am.
And the Generous GryffRavHuffSlythendor: How do you review so quickly? I'm very impressed. I promise to get to poor old Albus sooner or later!