Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is J.K.Rowling's property. This story is a response to the Severitus Challenge.

Chapter five: where a plan slowly begins to form

Harry glanced sadly at his timetable, as if hoping it would change if he stared at it long enough. It was hopeless, however. Each time he looked at it, it read the same. He had double potion first thing in the morning. And Remedial Potion in the afternoon. Which meant really too much Snape for one day.

Sighing, he quickly finished his breakfast and followed Hermione to the dungeons. It wouldn't improve things to be late on the first day…

"Quiet, class. NEWT potions require extreme concentration and good will. If you are not capable of such a thing" - he briefly glanced in Harry's direction, which annoyed him to no end -" then you will either learn to or leave.

"Today we will theorize about Polyjuice potion, then begin to make it.

"FINNIGAN! How long does it take to make a standard Polyjuice potion?" He snapped suddenly at the dozing boy.

"… Two weeks?"

"Is that supposed to be an answer or a question?"

"It was an answer, sir."

"Then formulate it like one next time! And no, you may not make efficient Polyjuice potion in two weeks, unless you take the appearance of a close blood relative. I asked about standard Polyjuice Potion. Miss Granger, while I'm sure you have a lovely hand, it is not necessary to exhibit it while I'm speaking! Five points from Gryffindor for your arrogance. So you think you know the subject so much better than me that you should be allowed to speak while I am?"

"No, I just…"

"And five more points for speaking out of turn. Should I go on? Next time you open your mouth without being asked to it will be ten!"

The entire class was staring malevolently at him (well, everyone but his precious Slytherins anyway). Really, taking points off because one raised her hand? That was rude, even for Snape.

"Now, where was I? Standard or Lambda Polyjuice takes an entire month to be successfully brewed. Which is its principal downside. Mr Potter, care to leave your little daydream to quote me another?"

"It must be taken every hour to be effective. Sir. "

"Right", Snape said in disgust.

He had been so sure to show the boy that he hadn't his place in this class with this question… but he wasn't finished.

He would make the boy pay for being the cause of his insomnia last night, even if he wasn't even aware of it.

"As you seem to have some knowledge of this potion, surely you can tell me…"

And he spent the rest of the first part of class to quiz him on the standard polyjuice potion. In spite of himself, he felt quite proud of his son for knowing so much about that particular potion. Of course, Potter would know about the potion, having heard of it with Moody's disaster in his fourth year, but apparently he had researched the matter…

However, as he left Lambda Polyjuice and quizzed about the other forms, he realised that Potter didn't know about these. However, he did seem genuinely interested - more than he usually was in potion class.

"As I already said earlier, the Relative one takes only two weeks to make and must be taken by a close blood relative to be effective.

"There are many other forms, but the one you must know about is the Veritas Polyjuice, for it may be a good subject for a NEWT."

He waited to see the 'magical' effect of this words, and wasn't disappointed. Every one of those prats had now their eyes locked on him, ready to absorb each word he would pronounce as if their lives depended on it.

He sneered, before resuming in his utmost carelessly voice:

"Of course, very few of you could actually brew it correctly on their first attempt, and many would actually make it either useless, or lethal."

He sneered even wider when he saw several students pale at the last bit. It was his habit to make the students taste their own brewing…

Then he snorted. As if he would make them drink something lethal! They should know that he would recognise a misbrewed one… unless they expected him to make them drink it in purpose.

He didn't know if he was more hurt and disgusted because they could think this low of him, or pleased at the obvious proof that his act of a heartless bastard was good enough.

"The Veritas Polyjuice takes a week and a half to brew, but is much more complicated than the Lambda one, because it makes the drinker act unconsciously like the polyjuiced, mimicking his or her walking, accent, writing... and even gives strong hints, or intuitions, as to how the mimicked would react in one particularly familiar situation. It also gives the drinker some of the magical abilities of the person he is taking the appearance of. Yes, Mr Nott?"

"Sir, does it mean that if someone were to make the potion from a Death Eater, it would give them the ability to feel the Dark Mark?"

"Exactly. Ten points to Slytherin."

He sneered again. How he hated the small brat! To talk about such a thing in his classroom, while his father had tortured and killed some of his students relatives, baring the exact same damn mark! And in a room full of Gryffindors, no less! I just hope this won't give them any bad ideas…

"However, there are a few downsides in this remarkable concoction, the main being that it won't work if the one who takes it has bad intention towards the copied subject. For example, it cannot be used to incriminate someone else of a crime one's commits, because it would detect wrong will and instead have ill effects towards the taker.

"It is this one you will attempt to brew today. You will complete the first stage in the next hour or have detention with me tomorrow evening to do it. I suggest you begin quickly."

With that, he carelessly waved his hand at the blackboard which now listed the ingredients and several advices as to which of them really didn't like to be mixed… As for how to proceed, sixth year Potion class should be able to guess, or leave.

He then sat at his desk and began grading essays.

Halfway through a first year Hufflepuff pathetic essay, he heard a soft 'pluff' and glanced to see Finingan's potion beginning to stir, taking an dark kind of orange (which at this stage, meant upcoming disaster), and began to utter a spell to shield the nearest students, but the explosion never happened, and instead he saw Malfoy throwing a disbelieving look at Harry, who just sighed in return, and smiled. Malfoy shook his head disbelievingly and Harry returned to his potion.

He made a mental note to himself to get an answer to that tonight in Remedial Potion. He smirked at the thought. If he was right, the boy didn't really needed it as much as he had thought.

The rest of Harry's day passed by quickly, and Harry was almost happy to leave the common room at eight to go to the dungeons. Not that he was eager to meet with Snape, but since the previous night, Ron and Hermione seemed to be walking on eggshells and it was beginning to annoy him.

So he left eagerly and was almost two minutes early when he arrived in front of the classroom's door. Knocking firmly twice, he awaited a few seconds then heard Snape call "Enter!" and so he did.

There, looking his usual snappy-self, stood his most loathed professor (well, not counting his previous DADA teachers). He closed the door behind him then stepped inside.

"So, you finally decided to grace me with you presence, Potter?" he sneered loudly.

Then, waving his wand, he cast strong silencing charms around the room and added:

"Well, don't just stand there like an idiot! I've gotten quite enough food at the Great Hall today, I have no intention to eat a sixteen-year-old for pudding. Sit down."

Once Harry had sat down on the nearest chair, he continued more softly.

"So, how did you know that adding powdered dragon teeth would prevent Finningan's potion to blow up?"

"I read it somewhere".

"Really?"

"Yes, really. What, you did not expected me to know how to read?"

Snape was beginning to lose his patience. He had attempted to be patient towards the boy, but if he was trying to start a fit, he would have it.

"I am perfectly aware that you know how to read, as I have to mark those pitiful assignments of yours. What I've got a little trouble to understand is why would you willingly read a book about potions, as you've never expressed a knack for it before."

"Perhaps I would have if you hadn't make sure I hated potions lessons ever since my first day of school! Just because I look like my father and that he did awful things to you doesn't make it right to hate me for my looks!"

"Stop being so arrogant, Potter! I do not hate you! I merely dislike you, but I was willing to change my opinion with those lessons before you started to get angry just because of a rightful inquisition!

"Believe it or not, I was serious when I told you I wouldn't use this time to make fun of you and your ghosts, even if I can't really promise that it won't come up in a conversation. They're just as tied to you as Moarning Myrtle is to her toilets…

"Whenever I look at you I keep seeing James Potter and…"

He stopped, seeing that Harry wasn't listening anymore and seemed lost in thoughts. He fumed. He was trying to open up to the boy and he wasn't even listening to him?

"LISTEN TO ME when I'm talking to you BOY!"

"Sorry uncle Vernon" Harry answered automatically, but he still didn't seem to be listening.

If he had been paying attention, he would have seen his father's face paling slightly.

But he wasn't. He had other things to think about, like how to finish The Dark Lord, as the man's words echoed in his mind. " They're just as tied to you as Moarning Myrtle is to her toilets…" Of course! Why hadn't he thought about it earlier?

Ghosts were tied to a place. And ghosts were pretty much the 'soul' of dead people, weren't they?

So all he had to do was to figure out how to tie Voldemort's soul to his body, so that he couldn't leave it if he somehow lost his magical abilities and became a squib.

And that would involve research about the ghosts first. He vaguely wondered if the books about soul's bonding would be in the restricted section, then quickly thought against it. Why bother with books when you could gain the same information quicker from another source?

Oblivious to his father calling his name frankly, then shaking him by the shoulders, all the time calling "Potter! Po- Harry! Harry!" he finally came out from his little world with the firm intention of going straight for Mourning Mirtle's bathroom.

However, he was quite startled to see the worried face of his potions professor right in front of him, and even more when he heard the words he said:

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Huh. Yeah. I think so. Excuse me sir, what were you saying? I'm afraid I was a little off for a moment here."

"A little off. A LITTLE OFF? I called your name dozens of bloody times, and all you said was 'sorry uncle Vernon'!"

At that, Harry wondered. There was no way in world he could have mistaken Snape with Vernon! He hadn't been that off? Had he?

And why the hell was his teacher's voice shaking? He quickly got the answer:

"Anyway, what were you thinking about? Did you have a vision from The Dark Lord?"

Well, if Snape had thought he was having a vision, it could explain the unsteady voice, he supposed.

"No, I was just thinking."

"And you're incapable of thinking and listening at the same time? Even when I'm screaming your name in your ears?"

"I guess I was thinking very deeply"

"I had gathered that much. Would you care to share the subject of your 'deep thinking'?"

"Not until I'm sure it could work… look, sir, I'm really sorry that I didn't listen to you, but could we please report this session to tomorrow? There's something I really have to do right now."

"And how can I be sure you didn't just have a vision and decided to take it upon your little hero-self to go save someone that doesn't need to?"

"I'll be staying in the castle, I swear. Do I have to make a Wizard's Oath or will you just let me leave!"

He was losing patience. He had to know if his idea was even possible, and Snape was in the way.

But he then thought that maybe Snape had just hand him up the perfect idea to finish Voldemort without having to become a murderer, sparing him perhaps months of research, so he quickly added a half-respectful "Sir".

Snape just looked at him for a long moment, sighed, then mentioned for the door. As Harry was leaving, he heard his teacher saying

"Tomorrow, same hour"

And then he was outside of the classroom. Not believing his luck (and that he'd just willingly signed for another torture session for tomorrow evening), he ran to the girl's bathroom.