AN: Sorry this took longer, guys. I have exams...Anyway, some more about the fic: Takes place in 7th year, after Voldemort's defeat. Snape and Harry developed a relatively non-hostile working relationship while Harry was training, which is why Snape will seem a little OOC. At least, that's the only excuse I could come up with.
A "Delightful" Detention (REWRITTEN)
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Harry walked slowly into the classroom, and stood stoicly in front of Snape's desk, determined to keep as calm as he could. Snape had still not looked up from his work, and Harry took the time to smooth his features and school his face into an expression of arrogance.
"Hello Professor."
Snape glanced up from where he was grading papers. "Sit down, Potter."
Harry chose the seat right in front of the Professor's desk. He leaned back in his chair, looking more at ease than anyone had the right to, especially in the potions classroom. He studied his fingernails while Snape pretended not to be staring. His eyes, glowing slightly in the dim light, surveyed the room with an air of contempt that would have put even Draco Malfoy's to shame, and he waited.
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Snape was watching carefully, and was more than a bit perturbed by what he had observed.
How has no one noticed this?
Potter had perfected the expression of loathing that now adorned his features, and it was enough to make anyone cringe. As Snape watched, he yawned, and his fangs were perfectly displayed for the world to see. Even his eyes were not pure grass green as they had always been. Black spiderwebs threaded through the green, cracking it, making the boy seem even more inhuman than he already did. His eyes flicked back towards Snape, and the man immediately went back to his grading, trying to ignore the shiver that had gone down his back at the sight of that hateful gaze turned on him. Even when he was training to defeat Voldemort, Potter had never been like this. Now that the Dark Lord was dead, it seemed as if he ought to go back to the happy - if dull - boy that he had been. Unfortunately - though for whom, he couldn't tell - it had not happened like that.
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I wonder if I can make him flinch?
The thought wandered through his mind, and Harry smirked, enjoying the way that Snape was pretending not to be affected. Maybe Hermione was right - there was certainly potential. But there was quite a bit of history between the two of them. Maybe he should wait? Either way, he refused to 'make his move', as Hermione had so crudely put it, tonight, while the Potions Professor was still in shock about the discoveries that had been made the night before. No, it would be best to act as he would to anyone else who put him in this position.
After a few minutes, Snape put down the papers that he had been trying to grade and looked up at Harry. "How are you doing it, Potter?"
Harry blinked. Then sneered. "How am I doing what, Snape? Be specific."
Snape was taken aback by the malice that laced every word spoken by the boy sitting in front of him. He couldn't remember hearing that tone from the boy in at least a year. He quickly recovered, though, and leaned forward over his desk. "How are you hiding it from Dumbledore? You barely bother to hide the fact that you don't eat. It's amazing that your classmates haven't figured it out."
Harry laughed, a short, harsh sound. "Oh, they've figured it out; they're just too scared to say anything about it."
"They know?"
He shrugged. "In Gryffindor it's pretty much considered fact, but no one likes to talk about it. Only a few people have been kept very carefully in the dark - like Ginny, you know? Ravenclaws are all experts on vampires - now, at least- so they know how not to offend us. Slytherin is about half and half. Occasionally we get the stupid fifth year wanting us to change them, but that's all the trouble we've had from them. And we have no idea what is widely believed among the Hufflepuffs, as they are at least as secretive as Slytherin House, and twice as impossible to infiltrate."
He sat back, and reveled in the stricken look on Snape's face. As he watched, it slowly morphed into one of genuine confusion. "You talk about Hufflepuffs like they're actually dangerous. Why? They couldn't keep a secret if their lives depended on it."
Harry smirked. "In my opinion, the most effective way to keep a really important secret is to have everyone think that you can't keep secrets at all. That way, everyone assumes you have nothing to hide." He grimaced. "Seriously, trying to get real information from a Hufflepuff? It's scary. Walking into their common room is like walking into the middle of a cult meeting. They're all so quiet."
Snape was still trying to come to terms with the thought of Hufflepuffs as actually having something to hide, when he realised what had just occured. "You are trying to distract me, Potter. If you want to tell horror stories about the other houses, I suggest you do so in your common room. Now, answer my question."
Harry's eyebrows shot up, surprised for a moment, but he recovered and stared up at Snape innocently. "Which question would that be again, Professor? I'm afraid that I just don't remember."
Snape sighed and rubbed his temples, where a headache was slowly hammering its way into his head. "Potter, I am not. in. the. mood. Answer the question."
Harry smirked, and answered. "Not much to hide. Like I said, Dumbledore is really the only one to worry about. None of the other teachers are going to find out, and even if they did, they could be dealt with. And no, I don't mean killed," He said, observing the growing look of horror on Snape's face. "But that's beside the point. Dumbledore doesn't care what happens to me anymore, now that Voldemort is dead. I've done my part."
Snape laughed meanly, and retorted, "Surely you know that Dumbledore considers you like 'a son' to him? You're practically the man's pet."
"Not anymore," Harry growled, and Snape wondered yet again how none of the teachers had noticed this. The longer he spoke to the boy, the more obvious the changes to his personality became.
"How did it happen?"
This time Harry did not waste time with games. He just sighed in - was it defeat? - and answered. "Vampires. They just can't keep their hands to themselves, you know?" He laughed bitterly. "A couple of weeks after I finished off Voldemort, I was in Hogsmeade, celebrating. The vampire was in the Three Broomsticks. I didn't know she was a vampire, not until the morning after. I had marks on my neck." He smiled, self loathing evident on his face. "It took me a while after that to figure out why I was so hungry."
Snape nodded, his face blank. "Who helped you?"
Harry snorted. "Who helped me? No one, that's who. I figured it out all by myself. You think I would tell someone? With all due respect, sir, I'm not as stupid as I look. I was completely alone until I took Ron and Hermione. Purely selfish reasons, of course. I wanted a family..."
Snape was confused. "Aren't there some vampire laws that prohibit changing humans?"
Harry looked at him incredulously. Then he laughed again, but this time it was not bitter, just amused. "Laws?" At Snape's confused gaze, he continued. "Someone's been lying to you, Professor. There is no vampire monarchy. There is no organization. There are no laws." His expression grew serious. "We are a disease, Professor, killing each other off just as quickly as we are made, sucking the life out of the wizarding world."
"How do you know all this?"
"Memories, passed from the maker to the childe, lasting hundreds of thousands of years...all in here," He said, tapping his head. "It hurts, sometimes. I can't keep my memories in order. I can remember back before Hogwarts, before Merlin, before wizards were wizards and magic as magic, just as clearly as I remember what was for breakfast this morning. Though I suppose Ron and Hermione have it worse. I had sixteen years of abuse in my memories, which I passed on to them..."
Taken aback, Snape could only mouth silently. This was not the Potter that he knew. Even when they had been on speaking terms the year before (while Harry was training for the 'final battle'), he had never heard anything about the boy's childhood. It was just something that no one talked about. "Abuse?"
Harry's head snapped up from where he had been staring at the floor in contemplation. "Not now, Snape. I answered your questions. Do I have to scrub cauldrons now or something, or should I just head back to the common room?"
Snape let him go. It was, after all, very late, and he needed some time to think.
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In the Gryffindor Common Room, Ginny stared into the fire, contemplating. She knew by now that there was some very big secret that almost everyone in Hogwarts seemed to know, except her. She had heard the whispers, seen the people that watched the Golden Trio with what could only be fear as they passed others in the halls. And yet, she had actually heard none of the whispers, and had no idea why the people watched the Trio like they were dangerous.
As a matter of fact, it seemed that the only people besides her who had no idea what was really going on were her friends. That alone was enough to make her suspicious. Neither Neville nor Luna, nor any of the girls in Gryffindor that she usually talked to, knew what the big secret was.
So she had asked around. She had cornered Susan Bones in a corridor and asked her. Susan had stuttered out that she had no idea what Ginny was talking about, as had Justin Finch-Fletchley and some Ravenclaw boy whose name she didn't know.
It was starting to piss her off.
Now she was all alone, trying to figure out what to do. She could team up with Luna - she was smart, no matter how she acted - and try to find the truth, or she could be sneaky. Follow Harry, Ron, and Hermione, everywhere they went, see who they talked to, what they did, and hopefully, why.
There was really nothing for it. She was going to have to do whatever she could, because if there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was being lied to, and that was almost certainly what was happening.
She was going to make it stop.