Ignorance is Bliss
Summary- Ignorance is bliss. As is such for Severus Snape, who could have really done without knowing the creator of that potion. A Simple Mishap universe.
A/N- Well, here it is. A one-shot directly from A Simple Mishap in order to explain in more detail Snape's reaction to finding out the creator of the potion and what he actually did with it. I hope you all like it. Thank athenakitty for the work that was put into this and for helping the idea along. I'd like to thank you too! Also, if anyone has any more ideas for a one shot from my story, don't hesitate to tell me about them, because I quite enjoyed doing this.
So, Enjoy!
The vial was stoppered firmly so that none of the clear potion within could escape. It swished and swashed with the long, purposeful strides of the tall, fuming many holding the vial.
Aforementioned man was not very happy. Not that he was ever happy, but today he was particularly furious. And it all stemmed from the Brat-Who-Who-Lived-To-Get-On-His-Nerves.
None dared to say anything to him. They all averted their eyes, recognising that Severus Snape was in a towering rage and woe betide those who prevented him from reaching his destination in as quick a time as possible. Even other teachers looked away from him, pretending to be studying the portraits on the walls, or stopping a random student who was equally glad of the distraction.
After what seemed forever Snape reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office, the one who had better have the answer to his question before he went and broke something. Preferably something far away from his precious potions.
"Drooble's Best Blowing Gum," he snapped at the gargoyle, which jumped aside instantly.
He strode up the stairs, not having the patience to wait for it to take him up, all the while wondering why Dumbledore insisted on having his password as blasted sweets, of all things. One could not say his passwords and look as dignified as one wanted to, suffering the indignity of having to say something so trivial. Which, admittedly, was probably why he did it.
"Ah Severus," said Dumbledore, smiling at him knowingly as he barged through the door. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"An explanation for starters," hissed Snape, placing the vial on his desk. Dumbledore looked at it and the twinkle in his eyes went into overdrive.
"This looks like a potion to me," he said mildly. "Perhaps one of the better know mild healing draughts? Commonly mistaken for veritaserum. They do look so much alike after all."
"I know what it is," said Snape in exasperation. "I want you to tell me exactly how a two-year-old knows how to make it!"
"A two-year-old?" said Dumbledore, arching a white eyebrow. "As in Harry Potter?"
"Is there something you aren't telling us Albus?" Snape asked dryly. "As far as I knew Harry Potter was the only two-year-old in the castle."
"So he is, so he is," chuckled Dumbledore. "It will just take a bit of getting used to, why only a few days ago he was a sixteen-year-old boy struggling to learn magic and being hounded about the NEWTs next year."
Snape didn't buy this for a second. Dumbledore was very used to the transition from sixteen to two, he was just deliberately beating about the bush. For what purpose, he did not know.
"Speaking of NEWTs I have a stack of homework assignments that need marking," he scowled, deliberately ignoring that fact that he was the one that had assigned the homework in the first place.
"Yes, well, it is one of the many downfalls of being a teacher," said Dumbledore pleasantly, sitting back and peering at Snape over his half-moon glasses. "Now, was there a reason you stormed up here in a rage and almost literally blasted through me office door? Such as this potion that you wanted an explanation on?"
Snape blinked and then he scowled again.
"You told me to give Potter those ingredients," he said. "So you must obviously know something. How was Potter able to brew that potion?"
"Quite an interesting question Severus," said Dumbledore. "With an equally interesting answer. You may want to sit down."
Snape sat immediately, even though he didn't want to. His heart was sinking. When Dumbledore told him to sit it was usually because he had to tell him something that he would in all likelihood not like."
"I suppose you could say this all started in Godric's Hollow, perhaps just after Harry's first birthday. It was August I believe. You may remember that James had his own potions lab?"
Snape gave a short nod.
"It was very much like yours, except that the walls were charmed to show various bright scenery," Albus continued. "That way when James or Lily took Harry down he would feel comfortable in his environment."
"Is this going somewhere Albus?" Snape interrupted abruptly and impatiently.
"Have patience my boy," said Albus with a smile. "Every road goes somewhere and ends somewhere. You need to have the in-between bits too though."
Snape just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest, waiting. Dumbledore smiled at him.
"Lemon Drop Severus?" he offered. "Tea?"
Grumbling Snape accepted a cup of tea but refused the lemon drop. He hated that blasted things.
"Now, where was I?" continued Dumbledore. "Ah yes. It was a sunny August day, but for some reason Harry was being quite difficult. Usually he was such a well-behaved boy. He didn't want to go outside, eat, play with his toys or do anything else really. So, in an effort to distract him, Lily, James, Sirius, Remus and I took him down to the lab, since he had always loved it down there. And, as though with magic, he quieted down. Needless to say we spent the whole afternoon down there."
"Albus…" growled Snape.
"Yes? Oh, I'm sorry, I must have digressed at some point."
"You could have just said you went down to the lab."
"But where would the fun be in that?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling again as he sipped on his tea. "Background information, no matter how small, can hold great keys."
If Snape had known, at that moment, that Dumbledore was planning on having him babysit sometime soon, and that the information he was getting now would probably be helpful, he probably would have taken an extended vacation then and there.
"So you went down to the basement turned lab…" prompted Snape with a sigh.
"Yes, we did," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, staring at Fawkes. "James took us on a tour as it was quite recent at that point. He set Harry down by the cauldron. When we next turned around little Harry was putting some of the ingredients that were sitting beside the cauldron into it and stirring them into what looked like mush.
"However, when Lily and James tried to take him away from playing with it he screamed and caused such a ruckus they immediately put him back to save their eardrums, and outs of course." Dumbledore chuckled. "All we could do was sit and talk until he had finished what he was doing."
"So Potter made sludge when he was one-year-old," said Snape, bored. "I'm sure most magical children who's parents were irresponsible enough to let their children near their ingredients did so too."
"Like yours?" asked Dumbledore.
Snape wisely fell silent.
"It was quite a strange day all round really," Dumbledore continued. "From Lily's kettle giving us cold cordial when we tried to boil water to Sirius accidentally making the fireplace implode upon itself when he stumbled out of it, a feat, to this day, he is still unsure of how he managed it. So with Harry's restlessness we were just resigned to the strangeness of it."
"And?" asked Snape with a large yawn. "I have a large stack of papers to grade and they will not do themselves."
"Do not worry, I am nearly finished," said Dumbledore. "We watched little Harry's potion through all its stages. I even think it was brown sludge at one point, and he still stirred it happily. The end result, however, was a clear liquid that looked remarkably like veritaserum. Only then was he finished."
"So, what?" asked Snape, not sure what the headmaster was trying to tell him. "James Potter took his one-year-old sons potion and thought, I can do something with this, and created a healing draught?"
"You are quite correct that a healing draught was created, but not the rest of it," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Let me continue. Harry, as we well know, has always had the worst of luck. So true it was even back then. A rusty nail that James had been meaning to get rid of was sticking out of the side of the desk and Harry cut himself on it." Even Snape had to wince in sympathy. "Yet he did not cry and, before Lily could get him, sweep him up, make sure he was okay and yell at James for not removing the nail, he stuck his whole arm into the potion. I must say, my heart nearly skipped a beat. We had no idea what that potion did after all. Imagine our surprise when Harry pulled his arm out with not a scratch on it!"
It took a moment and when Snape saw what Dumbledore wanted him to see his mind went momentarily blank in shock. When his brain was functioning again he shook his head.
"Albus, it took years for something like that to be created," he said slowly. "It could not have been created by a one-year-old boy barely able to talk."
"And yet you saw with your own eyes the ease and precision little Harry, as a two-year-old and not in possession of his sixteen-year-old self's memories, made the potion that now sits on my desk," said Dumbledore.
Snape looked at the potion. It was impossible, unbelievable! And yet he could not make a lie of what he saw, because he knew full well that Dumbledore was right.
"Its preposterous," he said finally.
"And completely true," said Dumbledore calmly.
A scowl adorned Snape's features as he stood abruptly and snatched the vial up.
"Excuse me Headmaster, but I have potions to grade," he said stiffly.
"Very well Severus," said Dumbledore, inclining his head. "I do hope you come again soon. I did enjoy this little chat."
Snape decided not to deign this with a reply and swept out of the office, leaving the chuckling headmaster behind.
The halls were empty by now, everyone in classrooms, teaching or trying and failing to learn something. So Snape got back to his dungeon office relatively quickly. When he had closed the door behind him, locked it and placed a silencing charm upon it he looked at the vial clutched in his hand.
For a moment he just stared at the vial and at the clear liquid within, moving slightly against the edges, taunting him.
For years now he had made this very same potion often for the Hospital Wing, feeling quite safe in the belief that it was made by a great potions master who had not wanted his name known to the public. And now he had found that the seemingly complicated potion was made by a one-year-old. A one-year-old!
And the one-year-old Harry Potter no less!
Snarling Snape brought back his fist and threw it at a wall. It hit the wall and smashed, the pieces falling to the floor in a shower of glass and clear liquid.
That was satisfying, he thought.
He waved his wand and the mess disappeared instantly. With a sigh, his mood souring once more, he turned back to the cauldron full of liquid he still had, wishing he had never known what he had been so impatient to know before.
If nothing else, at least it meant he wouldn't have to make another batch of the potion for the hospital winguntil next month at the veryleast.