TITLE: Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel, Chapter Twenty-One
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling.
BETA: The Incredible Irisgirl12000, and all further mistakes are mine.
SUMMARY: Harry is going full-steam ahead with his plans, from forcing Snape to learn the Patronus Charm to rescuing Dumbledore. He has friends to help him and enemies to hinder him… but he may not be right about which is which.

Chapter Twenty-One: 'Good' Doesn't Necessarily Mean 'Right'

Harry squirmed in his seat, glancing up at the clock.

"Stop that," Snape instructed. "If you're not going to listen to my lecture, then I can find something else for you to do—something to work off that nervous energy."

"Really?" Harry replied, distracted.

Ron groaned and beat his head against his potions book.

"I wasn't considering anything sexual, Mister Weasley," Snape told him with a glare. "Not with you around. Trust me, the man who could sustain an erection in your presence would have to be some sort of phenom."

Ron went brick red with outrage, and Harry coughed. "Ignore him," he said. "He's as worked up about things as I am, and it makes him worse."

Snape arched a brow. He chose to ignore Harry. "Weasley, come to the front of the classroom and demonstrate for Mister Potter how one adds rat spleens to a Plasma Potion. Potter, pay attention. Believe it or not, you may actually need this knowledge in the future, and Miss Granger is not here to store it away in the hive brain."

Ron sidled up to the desk, wrinkling his nose at the gore in the cauldron. "This is really gross," he said. "Even if it is useful."

"It can save lives when part of a medicinal treatment, particularly in those with some sort of malady of the blood. It is new blood," the Professor stated, "so unlike solutions that strengthen the blood already present, it is clean."

"So?" Ron asked, puzzled. "Don't know how 'clean' it could be, anyway; it's blood."

"I mean it carries no disease."

Harry was watching closely. "You mean sometimes a potion will carry a disease?" His eyes glittered. "Wow."

"Yes."

Ron dropped the rat spleens in one at a time. The potion shimmered. "Huh."

"Very good," Snape said quietly. "Almost astounding. Now add the black widow legs."

Ron reached forward and grabbed one. Something in the pile shifted. "AUGH! AUGH! AUGHABAHGAU!" he screamed, leaping back, his arm upending the cauldron. "IT MOVED! ONE OF THEM MOVED!"

Snape heaved a great sigh, a puddle of liquid congealing at his feet. "I think," he said, "that we shall do lines for the remainder of the evening."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Ron sighed, wiping the chalk dust on his robes. "Good grief. Five hundred repetitions of SPIDERS ARE NOT AS SCARY AS PROFESSOR SNAPE. Your boyfriend is a real sadist, you know that?"

"I know," Harry replied, nodding in agreement, finishing his own five-hundredth IF I WANT SOMETHING TO DO, PROFESSOR SNAPE WILL GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO. He didn't mind so much for himself, but it really wasn't fair to Ron—he couldn't help being afraid of spiders.

"Be quiet, both of you," Snape snapped, pacing near the other end of the room.

Both boys shot a glare over their shoulders. "Git," Harry muttered.

"Lucky you," Snape said loudly. "You've just bought yourself another hour in my company after Mister Weasley has left, Mister Potter. Now do be quiet."

Harry's fingers tightened on the chalk and he clenched his teeth. "Yes, sir."

When Ron left, he gave Harry a rueful little wave. "Sorry, mate."

Harry managed a half smile. "Not your fault. I got us into this mess," he added in an undertone.

"Another five hundred repetitions, I think," Snape told the student.

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've got out of learning the Patronus Charm. You're really good at distracting me, but you're not getting away with it tonight. Come on, let's go to your rooms."

Severus blinked, thinking quickly. "I'm the professor, you'll damn well do as I—"

"None of that," Harry said firmly. "There are times I'll defer to you because I think you know better, or because I don't want to undermine your authority. This isn't one of those times. If you wanted to teach me a lesson, you did. Some things are more important, and the Patronus Charm is one of them." He was walking out of the room already, and Severus followed him down the hall, protesting all the while.

"Potter, believe me when I tell you that I'm incapable of—"

"Then I incapable of learning Occlumency? Am I incapable of beating Voldemort? Should we just give up?" Harry demanded.

Snape was silent.

When they reached the man's door, Harry turned to him. "You know how you always force me to learn stuff I'm not really interested in? You know how you worry about me when you think I'm going to get in over my head?" He took Snape's hand. "I worry about you, too."

"All right," Snape replied quietly, looking at their joined hands.

"Good. Liquor cabinet?"

"Yes. He keeps me out of it. I've spent a good week stone cold sober. Shocking, isn't it?"

Harry grinned. "It really is, if only because I know I drive you to drink. Ready?" He moved before the cabinet, flicking his wand.

The large, grey shape poured out, and Harry stepped aside. "Go."

Snape raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum." Nothing happened, so he cleared his throat and tried again, remembering Sirius Black falling through the veil. Unfortunately, this made him feel as much guilt as anything else, and the next Expecto Patronum did nothing. Harry took a step forward, but before he could do anything, the boggart shifted forms.

Now there were two Harrys.

One was much taller than the other, though. He was well-muscled, proud, perfect, his eyes cold and his lips curled into a disgusted sneer. He was a Harry that had never existed and, for all Snape knew, never would. He was a Harry of some possible future, the Harry who saw himself the way the rest of the world saw him—as someone who deserved better than Snape.

He didn't wear glasses, because he cared too much about his looks, and had got his vision corrected. His hair had been tamed, and was pulled back into a fashionable ponytail. His clothes fitted, and were clean and ironed. He was beautiful, though not, perhaps, as beautiful as the real Harry.

He gave Snape a contemptuous look, shaking his head. Snape fancied he saw the man's strong frame give a slight shudder. With one last glance of intense dislike, the boggart-Harry turned his head and began sauntering away, moving as fluidly and sensually as Blaise, never looking back.

"What the hell?" the real Harry demanded. He gave his wand a wave, and the boggart-Harry was suddenly balding and rather chubby. He turned, looking angry, and Snape saw that his glasses were back and thicker than bottle bottoms, making his eyes humorously large, and the Potions Master managed a slight grunt of laughter.

The real Harry banished the other back into the cabinet. Snape shifted from one foot to the other, trying to think of something to say. "I apologize," he began, his voice sounding oddly rusty.

"No. Don't. It's not as if you get a choice about what you fear, is it?" Harry responded, not looking at the man. "Is that—is that really what you—?" He shook himself. He finally met Snape's eyes, his own filled with hurt and disappointment. "You know, no matter how old I get, or how big I get," he said in a croaky voice, "I'm not going to do anything to you."

"That—that's not the point—"

"I think—I can't—" Harry said with a cough, turning his head and wiping furiously at his eyes. "I can't deal with this right now. I've got to—go. I reckon we both have things we need to do tomorrow." He practically ran to the door.

Snape stood miserably in the centre of the room, unable to think of anything terribly useful to say.

Harry paused before leaving. "I just—just so you know, you don't have to be afraid of me." He shut the door carefully behind him, keeping his face averted.

Severus let out a long, shaky breath. So the boy had finally seen. He'd hoped it wouldn't come to that, but knew that the truth had to come out eventually. He doubted that Harry understood what Severus was really afraid of, but the man was incapable of saying it out loud. Harry had almost certainly not noticed that the boggart-Harry had been walking away.

Snape shut his eyes, steeling himself. He was not the sort of man who could come out and talk about things like that, but maybe there was one way he could mitigate the disappointment he'd seen in those bright eyes.

He readied his wand, approaching the cabinet. Hell, maybe it would even be easier, without the real Harry watching. It was time to banish his fears. Potter was just a boy, and already he was better at it than Snape—already he was a stronger man than Snape.

And though it wouldn't be enjoyable, Snape knew that he'd keep at it until he was over it.

He would not let Harry down.

OoOoOoOoO

"This is it?" Harry asked apprehensively. He tilted the vial from side to side, watching the bubbles fizz to the top. "And you're sure it's right?"

"Yes, Harry," Ginny said, her knees touching his. They'd gotten up early and had met in the common room before anyone else had risen. For some reason, she looked rather pale, and didn't berate Harry for doubting her skills.

"So. What's going to happen?" Harry asked when he'd overcome the strange sense of foreboding that had risen in his chest.

Ginny took several breaths. "As soon as you've taken it, you'll find you're able to smell things. It'll be overwhelming for a few minutes, but you mustn't be frightened. Your body will quickly become acclimated to the new ability. Soon you'll find yourself able to sort and process scents. That's—that's when you should go; you must not linger. It only lasts for two hours."

"Right," Harry said with a firm nod. "Down the hatch, then." He swallowed deeply, pulling a face as the bubbles began to tickle his nose. He lowered his head, pinching his nostrils together. "Weird. Oh, wow, that feels really, really strange."

Ginny leant over, her hair swinging over Harry's shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked worriedly. "Does it hurt?"

Harry sneezed. "Yikes! No… but I guess it does sting a little."

After a few minutes, Harry gave a large sniff, his pupils dilating. "I think it's working," he said. "Wait here—I'm going back up to wake Ron."

Ginny gave him a weak smile. "Great! Should—should I get Hermione, too?"

"No. She'd only be a wet blanket. She keeps insisting I'm taking too great a risk, so we just won't bother with her, then, right? Only the real Gryffindors are going on this little adventure."

The redhead laughed. "Right, Harry. And we'll show everyone—we'll rescue Dumbledore and—and—it'll be just wonderful. Because we're the house of winners, right?"

Harry gave her a strained smile in response. "Sure. Just practice your pose for the cereal box, and I'll be back in a mo."

OoOoOoOoO

Severus dressed in a hurry, flicking his wand and doing the charm that would fasten his many buttons. He glanced at himself in the mirror, which yawned at him. He scowled at his reflection. "So I'm not Didimus Fairbanks, Junior," he grumbled. "I'm only meeting Malfoy."

"You'll be standing next to the magnificence of a Malfoy and you can't be buggered to comb your hair?" the mirror exclaimed in disbelief. "Why don't you just turn me to face the wall?"

"Maybe I will!" Snape replied angrily, smoothing his hair down without thinking. He turned and hastily swept out the door, ignoring the mirror's wails about how all the other looking glasses thought it wasn't doing its job.

Snape didn't have time for silly things like good appearances; he had to get his report from Malfoy and get back to the castle—before that bloody idiot Potter went and bollixed things up again.

Really, he put up with a great deal for a nice bum and a sweet pair of lips. And after all, he told himself, it wasn't as though he was in a rush to see Lucius—he was just in a rush to get the whole blasted encounter over with.

OoOoOoOoO

"Neville? You're coming, too?" The boy followed Ron hastily down the stairs, still trying to get one shoe on. Harry was surprised, but supposed he shouldn't have been. After all, for all his faults, Neville was a true friend, and not at all a coward.

"Sure, Harry. I want to help if I can. Where do we start?"

Harry exchanged a look with Ron. "I think we should start near Dumbledore's office," Ron suggested. "That's where he spent most of his time, so you'll probably pick up the best scent there."

"Great idea," Harry said, relieved. Without Hermione, he felt embarrassingly as though he needed some direction.

"Let's go," Ginny urged.

When they got to the portal, they were startled to find Colin Creevey creeping in. "What are you doing?" Harry demanded. "Were you out all night?"

"That's none of your business," a flustered voice responded. "And what are you doing up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday?"

Harry glared at Blaise, who stood behind Colin, but it was Ginny who answered. "That's none of your business, and everyone here already knows what you were doing—taking advantage of poor little Colin Creevey!"

"I'm not little!" Colin protested. "And he wasn't taking advantage!" His flushed cheeks and mussed hair shed some doubt on the statement, but Harry didn't have time to argue.

"Well, you two keep your mouths shut. We didn't see you and you didn't see us, got it?"

Blaise's eyes narrowed. "What ill-advised nonsense are you getting up to now?"

"Shut up!" Harry snapped, leaning close. "I'll hex you so hard, don't think I won't!" Blaise's smell was overpowering this close—something sweet, like baby powder or newborn puppies. Harry wrinkled his nose. "What is that?"

"Stop it; both of you!" Colin tried to pry them away from each other, and he smelled unexpectedly dark, like some sort of musky cologne. "We shouldn't be fighting—we're all on the same side! We just have different ideas of how to approach it," he placated.

Harry shook his head. "I've taken a Bloodhound Brew. We're going to see if we can figure out where they took Dumbledore. Colin, if we're not back in three hours, tell McGonagall. Not before, do you understand?"

"That's the barmiest thing I've ever heard! Do you want to get everyone killed?" Blaise burst out.

"Incarcerous!" Harry snarled, and Blaise toppled to the ground. "Here, help me pull him into the common room. We'll stick him behind the sofa for now."

"Harry…" Colin said in a horrified voice, his eyes round.

"Just think of this as practice at curse-breaking," Harry responded. "If you can get him free from it, then good for you. As for us, we have things to do." He turned to the rest of the group. "Ready?" Ginny and Neville looked rather sick, but Ron gave Harry a determined nod. "Good. Then let's get out of here before something else goes wrong."

OoOoOoOoO

Severus kept his head down as he drifted down the alley. It wasn't as though he wasn't often in Knockturn, but today he didn't especially want to be noticed. If attention was drawn to him, it could result in his death, or—less tragically—Malfoy's.

The man was waiting for him in a dark corner in small shop that was really a front for the sale of prohibited substances. As Snape had contributed a potion or two in his time, he was neither conspicuous nor unwelcome.

Malfoy hovered near a stack of pickled slugs, staring vacantly out the window. Snape gathered he was worried about being followed.

"Don't worry, no one saw me," Severus said in lieu of a greeting. "Save for my troubles with a maddening green-eyed youth, my discretion and cunning are equalled by none. Nothing to fear."

Lucius didn't answer, but a teenager chose this moment to rush past them—probably high on Zoom or Quiff, Snape supposed—jostling them both, and Lucius grunted slightly.

"You're hardly your usual vicious self," Snape noted, examining his fingernails casually. "On any normal day that boy would have gotten an thorough 'getting to know you session' vis-à-vis your snake-headed cane. What's the problem, old man? You're not going soft on me, are you?"

There was a long silence in which Snape fully expected to be smacked over the head, or at least sworn at, but no such thing happened. "No," Lucius said dully.

Snape glanced up from his fingers. "Did something happen?" he asked with concern. Lucius' eyes were glassy, and Severus felt a chill trickle down his spine. "Something did happen. Imperius happened. Shit." He looked around to make sure they were alone. He took Lucius by the shoulders just as Lucius tried to draw his wand and Snape began shaking him roughly. "I know you're in there, damn you! Get a grip on yourself! Overcome it! You're Lucius Malfoy, blast you! You can't go about letting other people use your body! Think of what it would do to the world."

"Severus," Lucius mumbled, but he was still attempting to draw his wand.

Right, then. Desperate times. Severus let go of Lucius' arms, grabbing his face instead and kissing him firmly on the lips.

When he drew back to take a breath, Lucius looked staggered. "You kissed me," he said distastefully.

"Moving on…" Snape replied, smoothing his hair down.

"You haven't tried to do that since we were back at school," Lucius noted.

"The subject has been dropped, Malfoy," Severus replied. "You were obviously in dire straits, and I did what was expected of me. You know perfectly well that a giant shock can help jar you back into yourself."

"Yes," said Lucius softly. "Thank you."

"Don't expect cuddling afterward," Snape said quellingly.

"Sir!"

Both men turned, astounded by the mousy boy standing in the doorway, his face white as a sheet. "Oh, sir! Thank goodness I found you!"

"Creevey?" Severus was utterly taken aback. "What the deuce are you doing in Knockturn Alley, and how did you get here?"

"Blaise had a tracking spell on you. He told me to find you! I couldn't get the ropes off his arms and legs but I did manage to undo the curse holding his mouth shut and he said I needed to find you at once and tell you what was going on even though I wanted to stay and help him get loose but really I expect that I wouldn't have been able to anyw—"

"Dear Merlin! Take a breath!" Lucius said, intrigued. "Do you always speak this way? Are you keeping an extra set of lungs somewhere?"

"No, sir!" Creevey replied, looking terrified and delighted at being addressed by one of the supposed banes of the Order.

"Calm down, boy," Snape instructed. "What happened?"

"Sir—oh, sir! It's Harry!"

Snape rubbed his forehead. "Not again…"