Chapter 4:
Harry was nervous. He knocked on Snape's door at 6:59pm. Knocking early would be dumb. Knocking late would be suicidal.
At exactly 7pm he heard Snape say 'Enter'.
Harry entered. There was no chair in front of the desk. Just Snape sat behind the desk.
Harry stood in front of Snape's desk. Snape had a very effective stare. Harry lasted all of four seconds before examining his shoes.
"Have you ever noticed that I do not give Slytherins detention when they don't complete their homework, Mr Potter?"
Harry nodded. This wasn't starting well. "Yes, sir," said Harry, knowing Snape's thoughts on nodding.
"It's not very often they forget to do their homework, Mr Potter. Why do you think that is?"
Harry's eyes twitched towards Snape's desk drawer.
"Incorrect, Mr Potter," said Snape, "That is simply cause and effect. They do their homework because a professor has set homework, and will take time to mark their homework and will give feedback on that homework for the benefit of said student. To not do one's homework is in fact rude, Mr Potter. That is why they don't forget their homework. They have more manners than that."
Harry didn't say anything. He hadn't been asked a question and wasn't sure what to say. Speaking out of turn was not what he wanted to do, even to apologise. Snape might think that rude.
"So, Mr Potter, did you simply forget to do your homework, or do you think you were rude?"
Harry thought about that. He'd forgotten to do his homework. I'd been set on a Friday, and was due on the Thursday after. He'd vaguely thought about it at the weekend, but had been busy sulking at the world. Actually he'd hidden just about everywhere in the castle to get away from people. Maybe he should have taken his homework with him. But sulking had seemed far more appealing.
Then there was Monday morning. The less thought about that the better.
Monday evening he'd rushed DADA homework for Moody because that was due Tuesday, and then he'd come here.
When he'd got back to the common room he'd been met by a number of people asking if the Triwizard champion felt he should be excused detentions. That hadn't put him in the mood for anything. He'd gone up to the dorms and written a letter to Sirius that he still hadn't owled. He'd included a line in it about having mentoring sessions with Snape. That was why he hadn't sent it yet.
Tuesday and Wednesday evening he'd had other homeworks due for other classes. He'd not got round Snape's homework and then had honestly forgotten about it.
But that wasn't what Snape was asking. He was asking if Harry should have remembered to do his homework, prioritised it over other activities and got it done. And that not making an effort to be bothered to remember was rude. Yes, Snape knew how to ask a question you couldn't win.
"I believe I forgot, but that forgetting is rude, sir," answered Harry.
"You will be eternally grateful to know, Mr Potter, that everyone in my house is allowed to forget once."
"But if you'd thought it wasn't rude you would be getting a non-declinable invitation to return tomorrow for your infraction. Sit down." Snape summoned a chair over from the side of the room.
Harry sat gratefully. Obstacle one had been successfully navigated.
"I am sorry I forgot to do your homework, sir," said Harry, keeping his sentence short in case Snape didn't like drivel.
"Why?"
"Because you were… nice… in Wednesday's session, sir," said Harry. Harry hadn't come up with a better word than nice.
"I distinctly remember telling you Death Eaters were out to kill you, Mr Potter. Do you need me to arrange for Madam Pomfrey to scan your head?" asked Snape.
"That sort of nice. I really am sorry though."
"Did Professor McGonalgall assign you detention?"
"Yes sir. I scrubbed floors for Mr Filch on Saturday."
"And she asked you to redo your previous homeworks?"
"No, sir."
"And why did you redo them?"
"Because you're trying to help me. I didn't realise that before. I know you gave feedback on my homework, but apart from the grade at the bottom I didn't read it. I thought the comments would be snide. But they weren't. I should have paid more attention."
"Yes, you should," said Snape. "This is a mentoring session Mr Potter. Do you wish to be mentored?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then we should get on with it then. The task is on Thursday."
Snape had a pile of textbooks on the corner of his desk. He passed Harry the top three.
"First Year spells, Mr Potter. Do not underestimate them. I believe these were your first year texts for Defense, Charms and Transfiguration."
Severus then passed him a parchment. "This contains a list of those spells. There are few from Transfiguration and Defense, but plenty from Charms. We will discuss each of these. I will ask you questions. I will not tell you the answers. I will leave it to you to decide which item on the list has been left there by accident."
Harry read the items on the list:
Smoke screen charm
Red sparks
Levitation Charm
Softening Charm
Fire-Making Spell
Wand-Lighting Charm
Unlocking Charm
Knockback Jinx
Wand-Extinguishing Charm
Severing Charm
Locking Spell
Mending Charm
Making a pineapple dance across the table
Ice Jinx
Switching Spell
"So, Mr Potter. Defend yourself at all costs. How can a smoke screen protect you?"
It was three hours later. It was late. Harry was tired. He'd filled numerous pieces of parchment with notes on answers he'd given to Snape. After first year spells, they'd done second and third year. Harry admitted that it was unlikely he'd be able to correctly execute more than a couple of fourth year spells. The wand movements were too complex. Snape had even asked, 'How can a pineapple dancing on a table protect you?' to lighten the mood.
Snape had focused on protection. While Harry appreciated that focus, Harry had said, "So, whatever the first task, I can protect myself. But the whole point of a task is that I'll have to do something. Shouldn't I think about offense as well as defence? What if the magic thinks I'm not trying hard enough?"
"Read the situation, Mr Potter. Only 'do' what you are able. Enough defense will create opportunity."
"And let me guess, Constant Vigilance?"
"On that, Professor Moody and I totally agree," said Snape. "It is very late Mr Potter. We will have a shorter session on Wednesday. You may ask me anything about the practical work for any of these spells then. Goodnight, Mr Potter."
"Goodnight, sir,"
"Oh, thank God, he didn't chop you up for Potions!" exclaimed Hermione, "You've been gone for hours."
"Please don't say I told you so, but he wasn't that bad. He is trying to keep me safe."
"But you know I'm going to be smug about this?"
Harry nodded. They were interrupted by raucous laughter from across the common room. Most of the rest of the fourth year, some fifth years and some third years were playing something loud. The loudest laughter was Ron's. Harry glared.
"Leave him be," said Hermione, "He'll work it out. It's late. You should go to bed."
"You sound like Snape," smiled Harry.
Hermione threw a cushion at his retreating back.
"Hiya, Harry," called Hagrid, as Harry crossed the grounds towards the greenhouses to get to Herbology the next morning.
"Hi Hagrid," replied Harry, stopping to talk. "I'm sorry I've not been to see you. I've been busy, and worried."
"No, matter, no matter," said Hagrid. "I was going to ask, how's preparation for the first task going?"
Harry remembered Snape's words. "Oh, yeah, great. Um, Hagrid, I'm sorry but I'm not supposed to talk about it. Rules of the competition and so on."
"Oh, right," said Hagrid, "It's just, I was wondering if you knew what the task is yet?"
"I've really got to go, Hagrid, I don't want to be late to class." Harry sped off. He had a strong suspicion that Hagrid was trying to tell him something. Hagrid hadn't been subtle about any of that conversation.
Harry made a mental note to tell Snape after Herbology.
At the end of Herbology, Harry left the greenhouses quickly so he could get to his next lesson via Snape's office. He had his Potions essay from last week in his hand to ward off any questions about why he was nervously knocking on Snape's door.
He didn't get as far as Snape's office. He ran into Moody and Cedric Diggory on the way there. Harry tried to evade them. Both of them would want to talk about the task, and quite apart from Snape's warning about someone wanting to cheat for him, Harry was quite simply terrified of the task and didn't want to talk about it.
"Ahhh, Mr Potter!" said Moody, "We were just talking about you. Come inside the classroom for a moment, both of you."
"Sir, I really need to get this essay to Professor Snape before my next lesson, before he murders me. It's late as it is," said Harry trying to walk on.
"Essays can wait, Mr Potter. This is important. Come inside," commanded Moody. Harry didn't move, but he couldn't easily walk on now either. He was standing in the middle of the corridor with students mingling around him, jostling him.
Harry deliberately looked between Moody and Cedric and said, "Is this about the tournament, sir? Because we're not supposed to talk with our professors about it. That's against the rules, and I don't want to damage my magic."
"Get inside, boy," snapped Moody, pointing at the room.
Harry didn't appreciate the tone or use of the word 'boy'. It had Vernon harmonics. Harry didn't need encouragement to bristle and become a teenager. He was annoyed. Harry realised he annoyed far too easily at the moment, his fuse was short, but he couldn't help it.
"No, thank you, sir," Harry replied belligerently. His tone was such that he couldn't be called down for it. It was the walking away that was the problem.
"Potter!" shouted Moody.
Harry walked on without looking round. He yelped and spun when a painful stinging hex hit his backside. He spun round, "What the f…" He stopped his sentence. The only wand pointing at him was Moody's. Harry had expected a student, hence the language.
Oh crap.
"Now, Mr Potter." Harry didn't move. Moody now looked pissed.
Harry had never been so grateful to hear the words, "Mister Potter," said by a voice behind him, silky, low, dangerous, "I see your detention yesterday evening didn't improve your manners, let's see if there's something else we can do to improve them."
Harry turned around to find Snape standing right behind him.
"And another abysmal essay to submit I see," he continued in the same tone, "Something suitable for kindling perhaps."
"My office! Now!" his voice changed to a snarl. Harry fled.
The last thing he heard behind him was, "Professor Moody, I do apologise, he's been trying to avoid me all morning. I will see to it he is very contrite about his manners toward you. Good day."
Harry reached Snape's office and waited outside. He'd been there less than a minute when Snape arrived.
"Inside," he said.
The door closed behind them both.
"Sir, I…" he got no further.
"Spare me, Potter. Apart from a bit too much attitude you did a reasonable job. And that stinging hex paid for that. Do you have Defense today?"
Harry shook his head.
"Then steer clear of Professor Moody. I see he's fair in his partisanship. By now I'm sure Mr Diggory knows what the first task will be. Steer clear of him too. Be alert, Mr Potter. You will find a number of people accidentally bumping into you today and tomorrow."
"Hagrid already tried. I escaped him. How does he even know the task? Who'd tell him? We all know he can't keep a secret."
"Precisely," said Snape, relieved that Harry had provided a believable excuse for the gamekeeper to know. "So now you see the problem, hide somewhere when you're not in class. I know Miss Granger knows I am mentoring you. Use her to run interference. Think like a Slytherin! Get to your next class, I will write you a note for you being late and escort you there myself."
"Good afternoon, Alastor," said Severus, entering Moody's classroom at the end of the day. "You'll be pleased to know Mr Potter is currently very sorry for being rude to you. Very sorry indeed."
"Thank you, Severus," said Moody.
"Just a word to the wise, though," said Severus, "Well two words, actually. First, Albus does take a dim view of hexing students, even the deserving such as Potter. I wouldn't want you to get on his bad side. And second, I don't know if you told Mr Diggory anything or not, but although we want Hogwarts to win, we have to be very careful about the magical implications."
"Don't worry, the boy knew already. The idiot gamekeeper asked him to do him a 'favour' and help him search for Fang in the forest."
Severus rolled his eyes. "I must speak to Dumbledore about Hagrid's concept of student safety."
Harry made it to the end of the school day. Hermione had had to run interference for Harry once to avoid Hagrid and once to avoid Cedric.
The pair ran up to the common room quickly, grabbed a load of textbooks and hurried up to the sixth floor. There was never anyone there.
"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." The map sprang to life.
"We keep the lights off in the classroom, use a lumos to read, and keep an eye on the map," said Hermione. Harry nodded.
"Can you help me with my smoke screen spell?" asked Harry.
Snape summoned an elf. "Professor Snape, sir," said the elf.
"Can you tell me the whereabouts of Harry Potter?" asked Snape.
"I am sorry, sir," said the elf, "The Headmaster has commanded us not to."
Snape nodded, agreeing with Albus' caution, even if it thwarted his own plan. "What if I were to tell you that Mr Potter missed dinner this evening and may be hungry. Would you be able to solve that problem?" asked Snape.
"Of course, sir, it would be our pleasure."
Harry and Hermione jumped out of their skins when Dobby popped into the room.
"Mister Harry Potter sir has missed his dinner. As has Mr Harry Potter's friend. That's not good at all. The elves all like Mister Harry Potter. We will look after you. I've brought you your favourites."
"Th… Thank you, Dobby," said Harry when he'd recovered from the shock."
Professor Moody summoned an elf.
"Where is Harry Potter right now?" demanded Moody.
"I is unable to tell you," said the elf. "The Headmaster does not wish him found."
"Damn it," swore Moody. "Go!"
The elf popped away.
"What was that?" whispered Hermione suddenly, putting a hand on Harry's wrist to still his wand arm.
They both froze into stillness and listened. Harry quietly reached for the map. Hermione whispered, "Nox." The dim light on her wand went out.
By the moonlight coming in from the window they both looked at the map. A red dot was moving toward them, still at the far end of the corridor. 'Barty Crouch'.
"What's he doing here?" whispered Harry, "The task isn't til the day after tomorrow."
"How does he know we're up here?" whispered Hermione back.
Harry thought about that. "Perhaps he doesn't. Maybe he's up here for something else."
The sounds grew nearer. They listened in silence. There was a pause outside their door. The sounds moved on. They were about to carry on with what they were doing when the red dot stopped at the end of the corridor. They remained silent, watching the dot. It didn't move. Ten minutes went by. The dot moved on and went down the stairs at the end of the corridor. They watched the dot return to normal corridors.
"Well that was weird," said Hermione.
"Very. Do you think I should have let him know I'm here? Perhaps he was looking for me."
"Constant Vigilance!" giggled Hermione needing an outlet.
Harry laughed. He cast a tempus. "It's nearly curfew. We should head back to the tower."
They packed up their things and used the map to get back to the tower without incident.
Pop! "You specifically requested Dobby, sir?"
"I believe you wish to keep Mr Potter safe?" asked Severus. The elves had been told by Dumbledore yesterday evening to help Professor Snape. They had collectively been upset that they hadn't told Snape the whereabouts of Harry Potter yesterday. It had taken Dumbledore nearly half an hour to reassure them all they'd done the right thing. Today their orders had changed. Help Professor Snape.
"Of course, Professor Snape, sir," replied Dobby. "I even took him treacle tart to make him happy yesterday."
Severus opened his mouth and shut it, momentarily derailed. Treacle tart. Right. Elves were a bit nuts, whatever Albus said.
"Not everyone at Hogwarts is his friend at the moment, Dobby. He needs protecting. Some people are trying to give him information that would harm him."
"Dobby doesn't want that to happen, Professor Snape, sir."
"You are able to keep track of him? Without him or anyone else noticing?"
"Or course, Professor Snape, elf magics is powerful."
"Are you able to listen to the people who talk to him?"
"If I choose, yes, sir."
"So if anyone were to mention the task tomorrow to him, specifically try to tell him what it is, you'd know?"
"Yes, I can do that," replied Dobby.
"If anyone does that, could you interrupt the conversation and bring Harry straight to my office?"
"Anyone?"
"Anyone."
"Of course, sir, Mister Harry Potter is a kind wizard."
Dobby popped away.
Hermione extracted Harry from two confrontations in the corridors on Wednesday, one with Hufflepuff, led by Justin and one with Slytherin. That had involved a good number of people. Thankfully the twins were on Harry's side and manhandled Harry down the corridor before he did anything dumb.
At the end of Transfiguration McGonagall asked Harry for a moment of his time. She was shocked when she'd got as far as asking if Harry needed anything when Dobby popped in.
"Excuse me please, Professor," squeaked Dobby, "Professor Snape requires Mr Potter."
"Really, tell him to stop being quite so paranoid! I know what he's doing!" Harry grinned as Dobby popped him away.
Harry wasn't quite so convinced of the innocence of the question when Madam Hooch asked. Harry was sure she meant well, but did seem about to say something she shouldn't when Dobby rescued him.
"Again, Potter? Who was it this time?" asked Snape idly, not looking up from his marking. His tone said, 'Which idiot was it this time?'
"Madam Hooch, sir. I don't think she's a Death Eater, Professor."
"Just a fool, Potter. The Headmaster has reiterated to staff all week to let you and Diggory be. Do-gooders are fools, well-meaning or not."
DADA was more of a concern. "Mr Potter," said Moody, "Stay behind please, I wish to talk to you about your last homework. Miss Granger, get out."
Harry debated just legging it and dealing with the detention later. Moody noticed him eyeing the door. It closed by magic.
"You'll never be an Auror, Potter, too easy to read. Don't play muggle poker either, you'll be broke."
The door opened.
"Ah, Professor Moody, I'm glad I've caught you," said McGonagall brightly, "Sybil is a little under the weather. I have a timetabling issue and I was hoping you can teach Charms on Friday to allow Filius to teach Sybil's Third Years."
She fixed Harry with a look. "Don't dawdle, Mr Potter, get to your next class!"
"Yes, Professor," said Harry, gratefully running out of the room.
"Exciting day, was it?" asked Snape in Harry's mentor meeting.
"Everyone was trying to be helpful all day," agreed Harry. "Apart from your house. In a way that was refreshingly normal," he added with a quick grin.
"Did Professor McGonagall have to save you from Professor Moody?"
"Yes, she did. I don't think Dobby would have managed."
"Professor Moody is not of the same opinion as the Headmaster. He is of the 'forearmed is forewarned' brigade. I didn't think he'd go against the Headmaster's explicit instructions though."
"Well he did do Unforgivables in class. That properly weirded out Neville."
Harry didn't notice Snape's stare intensifying.
"Did he? I didn't know that. How is Mr Longbottom?"
"Well we assumed Dumbledore must have given him permission. Neville's fine," added Harry, not sure why Snape was asking.
"Well, on to this evening's session, Mr Potter," said Snape, deliberately changing the subject. "Wand actions. Do you need practice with any spells on your list? Demonstrate a Shrinking Charm."
Harry spent the next hour demonstrating Charms while Snape distracted him with Tickling Charms and the odd mild stinging hex. Apparently to keep him on his toes. Snape dismissed him early with instructions to get some sleep, or at least go to bed and stay away from 'his idiotic dorm mates'.
Harry never knew Snape asked Dobby to keep watch all night.
Next day at midday, McGonagall escorted Harry out of the castle. Harry heard noises ahead, one of which was a roar.
"What the bloody hell was that?!" demanded Harry, honestly terrified.
"This way, Mr Potter," said McGonagall, leading Harry into a tent, ignoring both the question and the language.
*"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head. . . . We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. . . . The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you. . . . Are you all right?"
"Yes," Harry heard himself say. "Yes, I'm fine."
She was leading him toward the place around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees Harry saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them.
"You're to go in here with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there... he'll be telling you the - the procedure. . . . Good luck."
"Thanks," said Harry, in a flat, distant voice. She left him at the entrance of the tent. Harry went inside.
Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small smile, which Harry returned, feeling the muscles in his face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.
"Harry! Good-o!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"
Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.
"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too.. . ah, yes... your task is to collect the golden egg!"
Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how Harry felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this.
And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking. . . . Harry felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then - it seemed like about a second later to Harry - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.
"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.
She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon.*
It's a fucking dragon.
Somehow there was conversation going on around him. He didn't care.
It's a fucking dragon.
"Harry?"
Bagman had tipped the last item out of the bag into Harry's hand.
"Harry, you don't look so good. Could I have a word?" asked Bagman.
Harry ran to a corner and threw up.
"'E didn't know, did 'e?" asked Fleur after Bagman had made a hurried exit.
Cedric came over with a glass of water and offered it to Harry.
"I did that the other day when I found out too," said Cedric. "And look at the rest of us. Apart from knowing for longer, do we look like we know what's going to work?"
Harry took the proffered glass with immense gratitude. He wondered if he could persuade one of his professors to give Cedric a couple of hundred points for this water.
"Remember," said Cedric, "If you want out, fire red sparks. You will be rescued."
Cedric left him to his thoughts.
Harry was alone. He was vaguely aware that Krum had just left.
Pop!
"Professor Snape sends his compliments, Mister Harry Potter," said Dobby, "He says, 'Get a grip, Potter. Defense.'"
Dobby didn't sound like Snape, but the intonation was there. Harry mentally shook himself. Right. Protection again a dragon. List of spells… Harry mentally ran down the list. Hide. Smoke screen. Body bind it. No, moron, it's a bleeding dragon. Scratch that. Shrink it. I wish. Freeze it. Love to. Oh fuck, Krum's done.
Severus watched Harry step into the arena. The boy created a smoke screen between him and the dragon as soon as he entered. Not a bad way to start. The dragon wasn't as bothered now that it couldn't see Harry. It could hear everyone else though, so it wasn't exactly happy.
Severus checked around the arena. Most professors had their wands out. They couldn't apparate on Hogwarts grounds but they were all ready to protect Potter from the dragon as best they could if need be. When need be, Snape amended.
The smoke thinned a little. Enough that Potter could see through it to the dragon. He raised his wand and pointed. The dragon's real eggs rose a foot off the ground. Snape didn't know whether to laugh, applaud or swear. A bloody first year levitation spell.
There were some giggles from the stands, but people were interested in how this was going to pan out. The dragon was confused. It moved and sniffed its eggs which were gently floating.
Snape briefly squeezed his eyes shut when the golden egg transfigured into a pineapple. He had to appreciate the closeness in size, shape and colour. The stands erupted in laughter. Filius had the grace to look embarrassed.
So long as the pineapple doesn't dance, thought Snape.
The pineapple is bloody well dancing, thought Snape. Sure enough, the pineapple, while the dragon was still investigating its floating eggs, had rolled out of the nest and was very slowly and gently swaying across the arena.
The wind dissipated the smoke a little more.
The dragon was confused. It turned to watch the pineapple.
Harry altered the charm. Seize and pull. Gently the pineapple eased towards him. It entered the smoke. The dragon took a step forward, but glanced back at its eggs.
The pineapple made it to Harry's side of the smoke. The boy reached out and picked up the pineapple. A gust of wind cleared the remaining smoke.
Potter held a pineapple.
He transfigured it back into the golden egg. The dragon blinked. It charged.
Harry threw the egg back at the dragon then fired a Freezing Charm at the flames coming towards him before turning and running towards the exit. He wasn't going to make it.
Harry fired red sparks at the same moment six wizards fired stunners at the dragon.
Dobby popped Harry out of there.
There was an argument going on in the judges stands.
"He got the egg!" insisted Bagman, refusing to reduce his score from ten.
"He gets zero automatically. He fired red sparks, he forfeits!" maintained Karkaroff.
"He did do that after getting the egg," reasoned Crouch.
"I will split ze difference and give 'im five," decided Madame Maxime.
"No," insisted Karkaroff, "I respectfully insist you all play fair. He forfeits. No score."
They all looked to Dumbledore who had yet to speak.
"Regrettably I agree with Headmaster Karkaroff," said Albus. "I will be awarding Mr Potter zero. But I believe that is why we are a panel of judges. All our scores count."
They each drew numbers in the air to indicate their scores. Potter received 20 points.
Excellent, thought Snape.
Snape made his way to the first aid area where Potter had been taken by Dobby. Dobby hadn't left Potter's side. The elf bowed.
"Thank you, Dobby," said Snape to the elf. The elf bowed again and popped away.
"You arranged for him to get me out?" asked Harry.
Snape nodded, "Whichever came first, red sparks or dragon fire." Snape ran a diagnostic charm and nodded in satisfaction at an injury free Potter.
"Thank you."
"Mr Potter," said Snape, "I have a burning question." Snape put up a silencing charm.
"A dancing bloody pineapple, really?" His voice hadn't altered from its usual snark.
"Sir," said Harry.
"Don't 'sir' me, Potter," said Snape without any bite.
"I used a smoke screen first!" said Harry plaintively.
"Yes, you did," replied Snape. "I am eternally grateful," he added drily.
"Well, I thought about Transfiguration, and I wondered what item is vaguely close in size to that egg, and it just popped into my head," continued Harry defensively.
"So you made it dance," stated Snape.
"Because why not?" asked Harry with a cheeky grin.
"Harry!" called Hermione. Snape saw her running towards them.
"Your lone fan is here, I'll make my way out of the amassing throng," said Snape, lowering the charm and leaving the opposite way to Miss Granger.
Snape didn't go far, out of sight but not out of hearing. He'd espied the youngest Mr Weasley heading towards Potter looking embarrassed. If Snape were Potter he would make Weasley feel very small right now. Shame Potter was the forgiving sort.
"Harry, are you alright?" asked Hermione. "That was awesome. I'm so impressed. Professor Flitwick awarded you twenty points on the spot when your pineapple danced."
Potter laughed. A genuine laugh. That was nice to hear.
"Mate, I'm sorry I was an arse," said Ron.
"Finally," said Harry, "I've been trying to tell you for long enough."
"And you really had no idea what was in there until you came down here at lunch?" Ron asked.
"Nope. I think all the others did though," replied Harry.
"What do you mean?" asked Ron.
"They were cheating, you twit," said Hermione.
"Well why didn't you?" asked Ron. Fair question, thought Snape, at least he's got his priorities straight.
"We think winning is what the person who entered me in this wants. Or at least to participate thoroughly enough that I might die doing so," answered Harry.
"We being you two?" asked Ron.
"No, we being the Headmaster, Professor Snape, McGonagall, me, Hermione…"
"Snape?"
"He's been mentoring me," said Harry.
"Snape's been mentoring you?" asked Ron, shocked.
"Yes, he's… he's actually quite good at it," replied Harry, sounding very awkward. Listening, Snape couldn't be sure whether that was awkward because Potter was admitting he thought something positive about Snape, or whether Potter was embarrassed that up to now he'd only thought of Snape as the evil Bat of the Dungeons.
"But… but… you lost! How is that good mentoring?"
"You haven't been listening! I want to lose! Actually I don't want to participate but that's not an option."
"He's brainwashed you!" exclaimed Ron. "Com-pe-ti-tion! You're supposed to win! Losing, you're not doing yourself any favors! Did you hear the stands?"
"Professor Snape is helping me, Ron!" snapped Harry.
"Professor Snape, now is it?" asked Ron. "Does he insist you bow and scrape too before he teaches you to lose?"
"Ron?" said Harry, "Fuck off!"
Harry turned and stalked back to the castle.
"Now look what you did!" snapped Hermione at Ron before jogging to catch up with Potter.
Task day was Thursday. By Friday lunchtime Harry wanted to crawl into a hole and not come out.
The common room the evening before had been bad. Competing hadn't helped. He had received only half the points as pretty much all the rest of the champions. That didn't bother him, but it gave plenty of fuel for the fires of his detractors. Most comments were along the lines of leave it to people old enough, or how did he expect to do anything with first year spells.
Hermione got into a shouting match with Kenneth Towler about the fact that Harry had got hold of the egg in the first place which is more than Towler would have done. That had been quite a spectacular row. Irate Hermione was a sight to behold.
Harry wouldn't have minded any of it except for Ron. Harry was angry at Ron for Ron not being understanding about Snape. Ron was angry with Harry because Harry had told him to fuck off. Harry wasn't about to apologise.
All throughout the evening Ron had sat out. Not taking anyone's side. The twins had put up a silencing charm around the three of them at one point. The rest of the room stopped what they were doing to watch that. Ron lost whatever argument that was when Fred jelly legs'd him. That hadn't helped Ron's mood.
Then there was Potions on Friday morning. Harry wondered if Snape had eavesdropped on him, Ron and Hermione the day before. It wasn't anything Snape said, it was just that he was, on a scale of cutting, eight out of ten with Ron for the entire lesson, ending up with Ron in detention. That didn't help the general mood in Gryffindor.
At lunch Harry was resigned. The whole school with the exception of a small handful of Gryffindors - Hermione, Neville, the Twins and both Creeveys was anti Harry and pro-Cedric. Except maybe, ironically, Cedric.
"Pass me a Potter stinks badge, could you?" asked Justin of the Hufflepuff across from him, loudly, "Mine's worn out I've worn it so much." Hufflepuff laughed uproariously.
Justin turned round to Gryffindor, "So Potter, will you be aiming to master second year charms for the second task?"
"Fuck off!" snapped Harry.
"No, no," said George, "Let him ask, he probably wants to watch so he can learn the spell. He can't help being a moron."
"Awww, poor Potter needs older students to have his arguments for him," retorted Justin, turning round on the bench to address the three of them properly.
By this point most of Slytherin had turned to watch and/or catcall. They kept an eye on the doorway though. So far there weren't that many professors in the room, and none of them were heads of house. Sinistra was glaring at them all to break it up, but no-one was backing down.
"What's it like Potter? Too used to celebrity to understand you're not it any more? Used to having a fan club? What are you going to do now, conjure a snake and set it on us all? We all know you're not the genius you believe you are. I bet none of it's your talent really. You hide behind the bookworm and the idiots there. What makes you special? What have you ever done? Your parents fought Voldemort and died, not you!"
There was a second's silence then Neville leaped at Justin. His wand wasn't out, but his fist was, flying towards Justin's face. His fist met an immovable force. Snape's hand. Snape wasn't looking at Neville, he was staring at Justin. If anyone had noticed they'd have seen that Snape had actually had to use muscles to stop Neville's fist. Neville was silent but enraged. Snape hadn't let go of Neville.
Someone in Slytherin snickered. This was going to be fun either way. Hufflepuff, Potter or Longbottom. All fun targets. Graham Montague and Adrian Pucey were fairly close to the action. Montague opened his mouth to make a comment. Adrian stood on his foot. "Nuh uh," he breathed, barely making a sound.
"Mr Longbottom, go to Professor McGonagall's office now." Neville didn't move. The boy was staring murderous at Justin. Snape twisted his arm and wrist gently but firmly so the boy's body followed suit and pushed him towards the door. "Miss Granger, make sure he gets there."
"Mr Finch-Fletchley, come with me," he snarled.
Snape barely paused when he knocked and entered Flitwick's office.
"Inside," he barked at Justin.
Flitwick looked up from his lesson prep and saw an angry Potions professor. A very angry one. Damn.
"I know you're not his head of house, but I am aware Pomona is away at St. Mungo's today while they take delivery of infant mandrakes. You're dealing with Mr Finch-Fletchley because I'm far too annoyed to deal with him. I'm sure he can tell you all about what he's said. I can't abide bullying."
Snape turned and walked out of Flitwick's office, closing the door firmly behind him.
Flitwick turned to stare at Justin. "Professor Snape is rarely truly annoyed, Mr Finch-Fletchley. He's normally calmed down by the time he's reached his office. He doesn't like bullying. Do you know how he punishes bullying?"
Justin shook his head. Everything had moved a bit quick for him. He'd had the upper hand, then suddenly he was trailing Snape down the corridors. They'd ended up here. Which was a relief. Snape had been pissed. Flitwick was much more lenient than Snape. He'd have been scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the day!
"He keeps a ruler in his desk drawer."
Justin's mouth fell open.
"I'm sure you're thinking you've had a lucky escape, Mr Finch-Fletchley. But here's the thing. How bad is it if what you've done is a) worthy of a trip to Professor Snape's office and b) something to make him personally that angry. Who did you offend, Mr Finch-Fletchley?"
Justin began to worry just a bit more. "But it was only Potter. Everyone's doing it."
"And what did you specifically say? Which bit of teenage diatribe did Professor Snape hear?"
"I asked Potter what makes him special and what had he ever done."
"Then what?"
"I said it was his parents who'd died fighting Voldemort not him," Justin said in a smaller voice. That had perhaps been a bit below the belt.
"Yes, that would have done it," said Flitwick.
A/N: *Asterisked bit from JKR's Goblet of Fire