A/N: Thankyou for reviewing! I appreciate it a lot. I've just discovered two plot inconsistencies. I've decided that Slughorn has been teaching at the school since last year, yet I put the new arrival Snape as Head of House for Slytherin. Ah well. There are probably some other dodgy things, but I haven't noticed them.

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Chapter Seven

Daniel Potter writhed on the ground a few seconds, his head jerking furiously and foam coming from his mouth.

'M-my dear boy!' Slughorn gasped.

Ron tried to hold his friend, but Daniel was lashing about so furiously that he couldn't keep a grip.

'Professor!' shrieked Hermione. 'You don't know a spell against poison? Please, Professor!'

At that moment, Professor Snape seemed to appear from nowhere. Looking particularly ill-humoured, he knelt down and, almost half-heartedly, shoved a stone into Daniel's mouth. The boy gulped and instantly relaxed.

Snape tentatively felt for a pulse, then straightened up.

'Is he all right sir?'

'What did you do?'

'Severus, what was it?'

Snape waited for the chorus of voices to subside, then said, 'Mr Potter has been poisoned.' He ignored the (almost redundant – everyone had guessed what had happened already) gasps, and continued, 'He should be back to his usual cavalier self in a matter of days.'

Slughorn offered to take him to the Hospital Wing, and exchanged a brief word with Snape.

'A bezoar was it, Severus? You were always remarkably quick-thinking in this sort of situation. You don't h-?'

'I must go and enlighten the Headmaster,' said Snape smoothly. If anything, he looked a little put out at having to save Daniel Potter.

'Severus,' said Slughorn, 'Was it serious?'

As one Slytherin to another, Snape paused and decided to reply. 'He was very lucky. If I had been brewing the poison, he would have died instantly.'

Slughorn let him go and turned to the unconscious Daniel. His two friends were still stricken – Miss Granger was crying on that redhead boy's shoulder, and he was attempting to comfort her.

He levitated Daniel and headed up to the Hospital Wing.

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Harry was awoken, bleary-eyed and still half-asleep, by a rat-faced first year. Wondering why the boy had dared enter the sixth year dormitory, he put his glasses on and sat up in bed.

'What is it?'

'Professor Snape wants you. He's in the Common Room. It's very urgent.'

'Oh,' said Harry. From the look on the first year's face, he already knew what this was about. Harry was curious, but didn't inquire. Instead he hurried to dress and went out to the sparsely occupied Common Room. What could Snape possibly want on a Saturday morning?

'Sir,' he said.

Snape acknowledged this greeting and began, his face inscrutable, 'As your Head of House, it is my duty to tell you that your brother was poisoned last night.'

Snape paused, waiting for him to react.

Harry was mute. His brother had been poisoned? Was he dead? Harry felt a miserable sort of shame come over him. How could he run about with the Death Eaters, with Lord Voldemort, following his own interests like he had been doing? His brother had probably been poisoned the same time Harry was out torturing Muggles. He'd betrayed his twin brother, however indirectly, and look what had happened.

He finally spoke, pulling his gaze from the ground to meet Snape's eyes.

'What kind of poison was it?'

'I have ascertained that it was nightshade-based. Probably the Amerosa variant.'

That potion usually killed within seconds. Harry didn't have much hope, but he asked anyway, 'Did he survive?'

'Yes.'

Harry felt an obscure happiness take over him. He didn't know why he cared, he didn't even know Daniel very well. But they were brothers, and Daniel after all had saved his –

Harry blinked hard. He had a tight feeling about his forehead. Those black eyes… Snape was trying to see his thoughts, he realised belatedly. What on earth was the man playing at?

'I presume he is in the Hospital Wing?' Harry said, wanting to leave at once.

He didn't bother to wait for a reply. He was too angry to do so. While he was pretty sure Snape hadn't succeeded, even taking him off guard, he was concerned as to why he would have done it in the first place.

Snape was a Death Eater. Snape had tried to gauge his reaction at the news of his brother's poisoning. Snape suspected him, then. He suspected him of being disloyal to the Dark Lord. He must have been watching for Harry's response to the news.

Feeling like he was caught between a rock and a hard place, Harry took the long walk up from the Dungeons. Dumbledore didn't fully trust him, Snape (and by extension Voldemort?) didn't fully trust him. Both of them, unfortunately, had reason.

He slowed, realising he had almost gone right past the Infirmary. The door creaked open. It was easy to tell where Daniel was; it was the only occupied bed in the room. And there was someone sitting beside it. James Potter. The Head Auror glanced up at the sound of the door opening, and caught sight of Harry.

Evidently, Harry's father had been crying. His eyes were still a little bloodshot. He opened his mouth and, from there, it didn't go very well.

'Why are you here?'

'I was worried. How is he?'

James shot an anguished glance at Daniel, who was still out cold, then turned back to Harry.

'I don't know why you would care. You're probably the one who poisoned him.'

'I was not. If you must know, I wasn't even at the Ball. And, and – how dare you say that.'

'I dare easily. I'm not some low spineless Slytherin who runs around killing defenceless Muggles while his brother's being murdered. Where were you last night, incidentally, if you weren't at the Ball? Tell me that, Harry.'

Harry's face was very pale, drained of its usual colour, just as James' was very red.

'You must know what I'm doing, being as close to Dumbledore as you are,' Harry hissed. 'I was spying.'

'You were betraying your own family and cementing your place with You-know-who, more like. There's no bravery in spying anyway, if that's what you call it. No matter which side you end up supporting, you're still betraying the other, you're still a traitor.'

'You didn't have any problem spying on me this summer.'

'I always had your best interests at heart. I did it only because I was worried about what you might turn into. A dark wizard. And look what happened.'

'Honestly, why do you think I'm doing what I'm doing?' Harry glared at his father, frustrated and angry. 'I hate him too. I hate the things he does. I'm on your side. I'm on Daniel's side. I want him dead, and I'm going about it the best way I know how.'

But James didn't believe him. He didn't even look as if he'd listened.

'I tried so hard with you, Harry. I went to such lengths. I suppose you can't help it, you were born like that. But I did try. Your brother defeated You-know-who. I expected you'd have at least some aversion to the dark arts, to Slytherin, to evil and lies. And yet you turned to them as soon as you had the chance. You spat in the face of your brother, your father, your – your mother, Harry, and all she represented.'

Harry was blinded by rage. He could barely find the door as he turned his back on James. He knew somewhere in his mind that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were all bastards. He knew that it was no wonder his father thought ill of him, considering what he'd willingly done, what he'd willingly joined.

But this was drowned in fury. James had never given him a chance. He'd treated Harry as a Dark wizard from the very beginning, he'd tossed out his judgements on him without a second thought. He'd never bothered to find out what Harry actually thought, what he actually cared about.

And now he'd brought up Harry's mother, and said he was dishonouring, desecrating her memory by his actions.

'I'm going, I've had enough,' he muttered. Then, because he knew it would cause his father at least a little pain, and that was what he wanted, he said, 'I hate you. My life would have been better if you were dead.'

James didn't take this well. He got up and surged after Harry, catching his shoulder outside, and slamming him against the corridor wall.

'Give it up. Admit you were wrong.'

Harry noticed with regret that time had crept by. The morning was maturing, and the corridor was far from empty. Passers-by stopped and stared.

'I won't,' Harry insisted, trying to wrench himself away from his father.

'You don't feel compunction at all, do you? You are evil.'

Harry didn't reply.

'Even though it was arranged, how could you do it? How could you become… We let you alone, I let you alone because they insisted. Despite your dark proclivities…We let you off, because it had to be your decision. I told you off a thousand times, but you could do what you want. And what did you do, how did you respond to my forbearance? You promptly went to him. I know Dumbledore says it's useful but you're clearly a hazard, you have no re -.'

Harry pushed away from him, not wanting to hear more. It was lucky James still had the sense to keep his voice down, and that no one except Harry had heard.

Harry was shaking with the implications. James had just implied that they – whoever they were, Dumbledore seemed to be among them – had knowingly let him join the Death Eaters. They'd let him make that huge dangerous mistake without trying once to stop him. Harry didn't care about that 'him-making-his-own-free-decision' crap. They'd nonetheless let him do it, let him make the mistake that still occasionally burned on his arm, the mistake he was already coming to hate.

James was saying something to him again, he couldn't really hear what it was.

'So it was all arranged, you said. You're quite happy to throw me on the pyre if I'll be useful,' Harry echoed James' words.

'It wasn't like that.'

Harry drew his wand, pointed it at the man.

James glared angrily back. 'Curse me, go on, curse an unarmed man.'

Harry's hand twitched, sorely tempted. Then James suddenly lost it.

'That's it, I've had enough. I disown you! I DISOWN YOU! You're not my son.'

'Good,' Harry said contemptuously, 'You were never my father.'

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'You're keeping a low profile,' said Draco as Harry walked into the Common Room that evening. He subtly cast an Anti-eavesdropping spell, and waited for Harry's response.

'I presume you mean my argument with my father.'

'Apparently,' said Draco, examining Harry closely, 'it was quite a scene.'

As Draco had expected him to, Harry sat down next to him, folded his hands, and elaborated. Harry always went into detail when asked (directly or otherwise), and Draco was quickly coming to trust him because of it.

'I had to tell them,' Harry said calmly.

Draco paled.

'They would have found out sooner or later, you must admit. I convinced them,' (here Harry smirked coldly), 'that I regretted my actions immensely. Sirius and the others were persuaded and now I am officially a double agent. It wasn't particularly hard. As I'm a Potter, they are predisposed towards me.'

What a lie, the incident with James showed that more than anything.

'And now they think I am some sort of double agent. That among other things was why my father was so upset. He's not happy I'm a Death Eater, spy or no. They still do not totally trust me, but it is enough. I may follow the Dark Lord without being troubled by them.'

Draco nodded with relief, though he didn't manage to wholly suppress the anxiety that had beset him as soon as he'd found out that they knew about Harry. He was impressed too, and surprised. He couldn't imagine what Harry must have said or done to convince them.

He cleared his throat. 'You'll be fine. You lie well enough.' Not that Harry was very perceptive when being lied to. He still hadn't come close to realising it was Draco behind the attempts on his brother's life. Draco smirked. 'I guess you're like Snape then.'

'What?'

'You know Snape's a Death Eater, right?'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'Pretty obvious.' Even Harry got it. Feeling full of himself, Draco went on, 'Well, for some reason they just trust him, even though he's clearly a Death Eater. A bit like you. Wish it was like that for the rest of us.'

Draco then detailed how he thought Snape was a double double agent, or something like that, and harry lost track of the logic. He was thinking of something different. Snape lied well. He must lie well, he knew Legillimency, and no doubt Occlumency. Harry had always assumed the man was a Death Eater, but now a new possibility occurred to him. Which side was Snape really on?

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The question everyone's asking… at least, I am. And JKR said at an interview that she agreed that 'everything hinges on it', or something like that. I subscribe to the snape-is-good camp for various reasons, one of which is pure wishful thinking.