A/N: I'm bummed because something's wonky with this site. It won't register your favorites and reviews, and I can't reply, but I do get emails showing your comments, so thank you! I'm building up to a bit of mayhem, but first a bit of power redistribution.
Chapter 6 - Shifting Powers - Part I
Harry awoke in a sweat, and with his scar burning, at half five that afternoon. The pain was not as intense as at other times, so he tried his best to ignore it. In the meantime, his stomach was growling and he wanted a shower, and he wanted to go to the kitchens for food, rather than have Snape order up a tray for him. I can manage my own meals, thank you very much. He grabbed a change of clothes, searching and finding things he'd bought for himself that actually fit, and hustled into the bathroom.
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Harry was tucking into second helpings of pork chops and roasted potatoes, and when a particularly tiny elf levitated a bowl of buttered beans his way, he smiled his thanks and loaded some of those onto his plate as well. He was starting to feel better, now that he'd had a couple of proper meals.
"I just attempted to have a tray sent to you and was informed you were here," Snape said from behind Harry.
Harry sighed. He knew he'd be interrupted at some point, but had been hoping to have at least started his dessert by then. He finished chewing and swallowed as he watched his professor circle round the table, assessing him.
"Feeling better?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said. He was starting to feel more comfortable with just giving in and calling his irksome professor sir now, as if he'd desensitized from his reluctance to even pretend to have respect. He kept his eyes on his food and forked another bite into his mouth.
"And your scar?"
"It was hurting, sort of badly, for a while earlier, but it's fine now," Harry replied, noting that Snape had come further around to be more in his line of vision.
"Would it bother you if we had a conversation while you eat?" Snape continued. He took a seat a few feet from Harry and pulled the plate of pork chops over to serve himself.
"Are you going to insult me, or accuse me of imaginary crimes?" Harry asked, and then remembered to add, "Sir?" He looked Snape in the eye and watched the anger flare, that wretched malicious hostility that he always directed Harry's way. Yep, there it is. But then something weird happened. It shifted, quickly, and suddenly Snape looked… amused! Harry gulped. He in no way knew how to handle Snape in a good humor.
"I'll see if I can control myself," Severus drawled. That was the second time the Potter brat had nearly pushed Severus to reveal his droll humor. And that was no easy quest. "I'd actually like to ask you about your wandless abilities. When did they surface?"
"Sometime over my stay in the cupboard," Harry replied with zero enthusiasm. "I'd actually resorted using the technique you'd shown me, to center myself." When Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow, Harry glared, realizing he was unintentionally giving credit where it was due. Fine, but let's be clear, "It helped a lot with my upset at being held prisoner, but it's completely ineffective at shutting out your Dark Lord." He expected a reprimand of some sort, but Snape merely nodded and waited for him to continue. Huh. "Well, I started to notice a sort of tingling in my hands." It wasn't that strong at the moment, so Harry closed his eyes and focused his attention on his palms and soles, which was already becoming easier to do. Whenever he did it, the tingling grew stronger. He held both hands up and looked at them. "It's in both hands, actually…. I bet I could-" he used his left hand to refill his pumpkin juice glass as he'd done at Private Drive, "-do it with either hand." He was stunned at how easy that had been.
"That was also nonverbal, Potter," Snape pointed out. Harry could see that he was shocked as well. His eyebrows were raised, anyway. "Well done."
Harry looked at him, momentarily forgetting how much he hated the older wizard, and feeling quite riled up, but in a good way. "What's happening? Do you know?"
"You're a step ahead of me, Potter," Severus admitted. "I'd noticed the same results just recently as well. The tingling has probably been there all along for me, but I'd paid it no mind." The boy was giving him his rapt attention, so Severus concentrated his focus as well for a few moments until the tingling increased in his own hands. "What is it that you do with your magic, once you've brought this sensation up?"
"I-" Potter stopped and thought for a moment. "It's a few things, actually," he said. "I either visualize what I want to happen, like filling my glass, or I say a spell. Both have worked. But, sir," he paused, as if questioning whether to trust Severus with any further revelation.
"What, Potter?" Severus asked in a controlled tone. He was having trouble squelching his own growing enthusiasm for the potential this newfound ability could offer the side of the Light in defense against the Dark Lord. "What?"
Harry blinked. He felt like crying suddenly as a mournful wish that he could be having this conversation with Sirius, not Snape, washed over him. But Snape was here, and the enormous problem that was Voldemort's reign of terror wasn't going away. And Harry knew he could not take the evil bastard out on his own. "I haven't tried it yet, and I'd like to use one of the dummy's we've kept in the ROR for practice," he started nervously. When Snape nodded, he realized the DA wasn't a secret from the potions master. "Well, the other night while I had the vision that featured you," he said. There, that got a flicker of malice from the bat of the dungeons. Now Harry had the upper hand again, "I could feel how… Riddle was varying the intensity of his magic through his wand. I didn't know you could do that. I want to try it."
"If you will allow it, Potter, I will join you tomorrow for a training session. We can work on this specific skill, while we wait for the train to return with the miscreants of creation that are the rest of the students of Hogwarts."
Aaannnnd Harry was back to being the one unfooted again. It's just too weird to not be battling wills with the Bat himself.
"I highly recommend that you take a dreamless sleep draught tonight," Snape advised. "Allow the time to sleep a solid night before we do this exploration, alright? Your concussion will not heal unless you are very careful with your physical state," Snape added as he observed Harry's reception of his suggestions.
Harry had forgotten about the concussion. He knew little about them and what it took to recover. "How will I know I'm recovered?"
"Stand up quickly, right now," Snape ordered. He rolled his eyes when Harry glared at him. "It's a test, Potter."
"Oh," Harry said. He pushed his chair back from the table and stood quickly, realizing he knew what to look for. Yep, that woozy sensation is still there. "Oh," he said again. He sat back down and pulled the treakle tart his way. "I guess I'm not recovered yet."
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Harry had made significant progress and was nearly back to Gryffindor's Common Room entrance when a wolf patronus darted into his path and sat on its haunches. "I'm having a late tea while I finish planning my lessons, if you'd like to join me?" the blue-tinged, semi-transparent magical creature asked Harry in Remus Lupin's voice. Harry grinned. He hadn't yet learned how to send messages with his handy stag patronus, but that would be second priority on his to-do list for tomorrow.
He turned and headed back down to the sixth floor, to where he knew Remus' quarters were located.
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It was half eight, and Harry was at peace, lying on his back on the fur rug in front of Remus' roaring fire, listening to muggle records with the returning DADA professor. Remus sat at a table across the room, writing up some final notes for the coming week's classes, but stopped when it was time to flip Paul McCartney's RAM album back to side A for a second listen. They'd already discussed the fact that Harry loved this album as much as Remus. Harry's aunt had played it at various times in Harry's childhood, and he was able to associate the songs with milder, less horrible moments. This was the best, and most relaxed, Harry had felt in a very long time.
"Well, are you ready for the first week back, Professor?" Harry asked, staring up at the odd artwork painted onto the ceiling of Remus' private quarters. It was some sort of scene with goblins and trolls interacting, and looking to be showing that they'd formed an alliance. Harry couldn't make it out, but it was keeping his interest while he peripherally listened to McCartney sing about Too Many People doing things like missing their lucky break, or reaching for a piece of cake.
"I am, Harry," Remus answered, tapping his quill to the rhythm of the lively tune while he reviewed what he'd plotted for keeping his students engaged. "I've got a Plan B and a Plan C, should my Plan A be a flop."
Harry sat up and looked at Remus like he was crazy. "I imagine you'll be able to save plans B and C for weeks two and three, sir. Your lessons are always excellent."
Remus had risen again while Harry spoke, apparently hearing a tap at his door. He smiled mildly at Harry as he waived his wand to allow entrance to Snape, who came in with an expression that was his own version of mild, but it quickly turned sour, presumably when he recognized the music. "Severus?" Remus had noticed too.
Harry resented the way Snape had just sucked the good feeling out of the room, and let his frown show as much. But Snape was studying him carefully. "What?" Harry asked, edgy now.
"Have you any sense that Lucius has been summoned to the Dark Lord?"
Snape is nervous, Harry realized. "My scar was bugging me earlier, like I told you, but it's been fine for a few hours now." That didn't really seem to appease the potions master. "Malfoy's missing?"
Remus held out a glass with a shot of firewhiskey to Severus. "Take a seat, Severus," Remus suggested.
Harry watched the interaction between the two wizards. There was something else going on here, and he tried desperately to read between the lines. Snape is completely unfooted. He did at least sit and take a sip of the drink, eyes on Harry again. "The pain from earlier wasn't as bad as it was when I saw what happened to you," Harry told him. "If Malfoy's with him, it's not going badly, is my best guess."
"You'll tell me if you sense, or see, otherwise?" Snape asked.
"Yeah," Harry said quickly, actually rather moved by the desperation he was witnessing in Snape. "I promise." When Snape nodded and sat further back into the loveseat across from the fireplace, Harry lay back down and attempted to refocus his attention on the music. He glanced back at Snape, who was glowering at nothing in particular, holding his glass in both hands as if he'd forgotten it. Harry had no idea what to make of this display.
"Hands across the water…. water…. hands across the sky…" the record played on, and Harry finally was drawn back into what was his favorite part of the song. Now the ex-Beatle was singing about Admiral Halsey needing a berth to get to sea, but Paul sang that he'd had another look and he'd had a cup of tea, and a butter pie. "I've never had a butter pie," Harry commented, mimicking the way McCartney enunciated it. He heard a snort of humor but didn't dare look to see if it had been Snape. No way. He's not capable of finding me funny. But that might not actually be true...
"Never?" Remus asked with a chuckle. "That's tragic, Harry. They're quite nice."
Harry refrained from revealing that the Dursleys had often brought home stacks of butter pies from the shops, but had never deigned to share them with Harry. Now his thoughts turned negative and he felt as sour as Snape had looked a bit earlier. He sat up again. The record had finished anyway. "I'm off to bed," he said, trying to hide the turn in his emotions. "Goodnight. Thanks for the visit, Remus."
"Goodnight, Harry," Remus said, watching Harry curiously, but letting him go.
"Goodnight," Snape echoed quietly.
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Harry sighed when a breakfast tray popped into the Common Room near the table he was sitting at. He couldn't help but feel like the potions master was standing there, poking at him, just to irritate him. He was scrambling to put together a decent essay for Transfiguration. He'd not managed to do any of his holiday assignments, of course, and was scrambling to do the two he felt were a priority. He didn't care about most of the subjects, or the fact that he'd be starting the new term off with zero's in Potions, DADA, History of Magic, and Divination. But he didn't want to disappoint McGonagall or Sprout by showing up without anything for them. Somehow he knew he'd be given a chance to make up the loss of the grade in DADA. It remained to be seen what Snape would say about his status in Potions.
Harry knew that McGonagall was back in the castle and had seen her moving around when he'd checked the map. He and Snape had managed to miss her yesterday when they'd returned from the visit to the safe house, but there had been signs of her in Dumbledore's office: stacks of parchment, a Tartan bag that looked like a satchel of sorts for documents, and her pointy hat had all been set upon the large desktop. Harry was glad he'd not managed to see her at all so far. He'd rather next see her again in class. He didn't want to hang out with his Head of House as he'd done last night with Remus, or frankly as he'd done at dinner with Snape. Oh yeah, Remus is Head of Gryffindor for a while, and McGonagall's the Headmistress, he reminded himself. McGonagall would be making the announcement tonight at the welcome back feast.
Harry finished the essay for her class, setting it aside to ask Hermione to proofread later, and deciding to eat before beginning his work for Herbology. It wasn't until he decided to go get the tray for himself, rather than practice levitating it over wandlessly (lest he mess up and drop the food and drink), that he noticed a folded note on the tray. It had Snape's distinctive handwriting that seemed to communicate his customary disdain within its scrawl. Harry girded up, instinctively anticipating an insulting message, as he unfolded it and read:
Potter,
I trust you had a decent sleep? If so, would you kindly join me in the Room of Requirement at ten o'clock? I've exactly ninety minutes free this morning before my school duties will require my attention. We could work on the magic we discussed last night, and if you have other interests, you could convey them as well.
SS
"This is just too weird," Harry said aloud. But in truth, he was having trouble staying annoyed when the thought of getting help with refining this new ability kept boosting his spirits. He checked his watch. It was nine o'clock now. If he focused, he could get a decent start on the next essay. He crammed a piece of toast in his mouth and grabbed his quill.
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"Lupin told me about the Marauder's Map last evening," Snape informed Harry as he arrived, right on time, in the fifth floor hallway, where the potions master was waiting beside the statue of Barnabus the Barmy.
Snape clearly could not refrain from sneering when he said the word Marauders, but he otherwise seemed to be in a decent mood. "Oh," Harry said and began to pace back and forth, silently asking the ROR for the same configuration he used for DA sessions. Harry noted that Snape had still not gone back to his traditionally restrictive attire, but he was clean shaven. Today he wore a similar ensemble to Friday, but this time it was gray jeans and black jumper over a white T-shirt. Harry inwardly warned himself not to start seeing Snape as cool.
Severus watched the Boy Wonder with reluctant regard. He was clearly here to get right down to business. "I assume you use the map regularly to monitor who is present in the castle?"
Two tall doors appeared in the wall, opening as Potter stepped through them, answering over his shoulder, "Yeah, always. I wasn't sure whether to admit I had it. I remember how you've found it irksome in the past."
Severus narrowed his eyes at the back of the brat's head. "I'll find it far less irksome when I receive my own copy, which Lupin has promised to create for me, posthaste," he responded, unable to summon irritation with which to lace his comment. "Do you have yours on your person? Perhaps we can keep it out, just in case."
"Good idea," Potter remarked as he led Severus to a makeshift announcement board that had been created from a mirror.
While Severus assessed the other postings, which included a photo of the original Order of the Phoenix, Potter reached under the back of his jumper and pulled a familiar folded parchment from the waistband of his jeans. He opened the Map completely to show the castle and grounds in their entirety. Potter pressed it to the mirror at his own eye level. Severus palmed his wand, but Potter beat him to casting the sticking charm, which the boy incanted while using his left hand to direct his magic and managed to adhere the upper right corner to the glass. Next he retrieved the left corner and raised it level with the right, incanting, "Ubertatem acciperet," again, this time directing with his right hand. He was grinning at his success as he stepped back a couple of paces and crossed his arms over his chest while they both reviewed it. Now one could see within it not only Minerva, but Madam Pomfrey, and all of the other professors who weren't currently riding the Hogwarts Express as escorts to the returning student body. They did not see themselves, however. Severus had learned from Lupin last night that those inside the ROR were hidden from view.
"Well done, Potter." Severus commented in a low tone.
"Thanks," Harry said, momentarily caught up in the rush of his success. "Have you tried it yet? Casting from your hands?" he blurted out, turning to face Snape just as an uncomfortable tension began to mix with his good humor. Keep your guard up, Harry.
Severus saw that shift and felt a distinct twinge of guilt. "Of course I have, foolish boy," he replied without the disdain he would normally use to provoke Potter. "My morning shave was done both silently and sans wand."
"So the scruffy look is out again, then?" Potter asked innocently.
"I can imagine you understand why that might be," Severus drawled.
"And what about the buttons? and the dramatically flaring tails on your robe?"
Dammit! That brat had done it. He'd managed to get an involuntary amused smirk from Severus. "I'm trying something new, Potter," he returned. He made a dramatic show of checking his watch. "We've eighty minutes remaining. I propose we practice shielding." He waited, wondering what Potter was expecting of this session.
Harry was still a beat behind, trying to process the fact that he'd again said something that Snape found funny. "Yeah! er, yes, sir, let's do that," he replied. He quickly put his attention on palms and soles to prevent his mind from reminding him how much hostility he still felt for Snape, let alone any fear of his professor's intentions to use this opportunity to get back at Harry for whatever was offending him at the moment. Harry wanted to get the most he possibly could from this session. Remus' declaration that both Snape and Malfoy were gifted wizards had planted a seed with him, and he had every intention of learning as much as he could from any of those three adults.
"Take the lead, Potter," Snape gestured, turning to walk away from Harry until they were thirty paces apart, and calling back to him as he palmed his wand, "How many shields do you know?"
"Er, just protego," Harry replied. He shook his hands a little and wiggled his fingers, not really sure how to get ready.
"Then we'll start there," Snape said. He flicked his wand and sent a silent hex Harry's way without missing a beat.
Harry threw his right hand up and yelled, "Protego," but he could tell he was a fraction of a second too late. Harry's magic took form in a decent shield, but Snape's magic zipped right to him and swiped at the top of his head. He could feel something happening, but it didn't hurt, so he let it go as Snape casted another hex without warning, "Protego!" Harry yelped again, and managed to block this one. He could see the ripples of the deflecting magic stray off in all directions. He tried to pay attention to everything, taking mental notes for himself to review later. Snape sent another jinx his way and he deflected that too, but a curtain of his hair suddenly obscured his view and his reflexive shake of his head threw his next shield off balance for the fourth hex. This one actually pulled Harry's hair hard enough to yank his head to the side and knock his glasses askew. "Oy!" he yelled in irritation. Harry swiped at the mess it had made of his very long fringe before it finally clicked and he realized his hair was growing so quickly that it was covering his eyes completely. Oh, brother. He pushed his fringe aside with his left hand and stared at his right hand for a brief second while trying to figure out how to direct his magic to his scalp to end the jinx.
Zip! Another spell hit his ribs and the next moment he was squirming from the tickling sensation of Snape's rictusempra. Harry snarled in annoyance and this time when his professor cast another spell, Harry used his left hand and swept it upward from his side, producing a full bodied shield that looked just like what he'd pictured in his imagination. Then he yelled, "Expelliarmus!" and damned if ol' Snape's wand didn't come flying right to him!
"I only wish I could see the expression on your face, Potter," Snape drawled. "That's the second time you've impressed me in this session. Well done."
Harry would have grinned but he was a tad worried about the way his hair kept growing and growing. It was literally hanging like a very long mop on his head now. And Snape of course wasn't making any efforts to help him. "How do you suppose I should cast a finite?" he yelled in a panic.
"Have you misplaced your wand?" Snape returned unhelpfully.
Harry capped both hands on the top of his head. "Finite!" Did it work? He waited with bated breath, which he finally let out in a long sigh when he was certain his hair had stopped growing. Now, how in the hell am I going to get it back to normal? But the next moment he began moving his hands all around his head as if miming washing his hair, and feeling magic coming through both hands as he "worked." After a moment more, his hair was back to it's normally chaotic mess.
"You do realize that by the time you've taken such pains with your appearance, I could have cast all sorts of lethal spells at your unprotected self?" Snape said when Harry finally faced him again.
He's so smug! But in spite of his efforts to remain unimpressed with the potions master, Harry was struggling not to crack up at what Snape had just done to him. It had been more like something one of the Weasley twins would have pulled. "Well, since I've got your wand, and nearly every other wizard out there needs one to do me harm-" Harry started to retort, but then his snappy comeback was cut off as his scar exploded with pain and the next thing he knew, he was collapsing to the floor in agony. "AAHHHHHH!"
A/N: I'm on a roll! And lookee - we've got a long weekend ahead in the US, and I'm stuck home with the pandemic. What on earth will I do with this cast of characters? Please continue to review - I'll respond as soon as the site is working properly again. ;-)
