Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and the plot is a convoluted version of a Batman: The Animated Series episode. All places and characters belong to JK Rowling and the WB and various publishers. No money is being made off this piece of fiction.

Warnings: This story is Slash of the HP/SS variety. If you do not like Slash, don't read this. Language may also be a factor.

Author's Note: Here's chapter two, I hope you like it.

Chiroptophobia: Fear of Bats

Potter didn't seem all that 'scared' while he was glaring daggers at Severus from across Dumbledore's office, that was for certain.

Now, for instance, the little brat was arguing with the headmaster that, couldn't someone else monitor him? Or maybe Dumbledore should brew the antidote, surely he could do it? Perhaps even Madame Pomfrey?

Severus barely contained his snort of derision at the straw grabbing youth, so he quickly turned his scowling attention to the portraits above the headmaster. He was the only one on staff with the skill and time (as his was apparently expendable) to conduct the research for the antidote. Being the youngest Potions Master of his age wasn't just for show, after all. How dare this miscreant suggest that anyone else could do the job as well as he? In the portraits, Phineas Nigellus Black seemed equally irked by the boy's whinging as he rolled his eyes and glowered at him. He was the least popular headmaster Hogwarts had ever had, and it most assuredly wasn't from doting on the students and their whims.

"Please understand Harry, Professor Snape is the only Order member with the skill to diagnose the potion you took and produce a remedy…" Dumbledore was saying.

"What about a bezoar?" he interrupted churlishly.

Finally, Severus could endure this behavior no longer. "Potter, stop behaving like an imbecile!" he snarled as he stood. "A bezoar is for poisons, malevolent ones, not to mention they don't exactly grow on trees. Yours is, in all likelihood, not a poison of this nature or you would be deceased by now. If it is a slow-acting poison, then we don't really have to rush, now do we? In either case, you will have to be monitored and have your symptoms closely documented by someone who knows what they are doing. And that," he finished with a grimace, "would be me."

Potter jumped quickly out of his chair, breathing hard. "Oh yeah? Well you--" he began, but he abruptly went a sickly shade of white and his mouth worked soundlessly for a second. He was unbelievably tense, as a bowstring pulled taught, and was that trembling? Snape watched, amazed and with his irritation forgotten as the boy's eyes widened and he backed up quickly. There he stood, back to the wall and eyes screwed shut tightly, panting and quaking.

So this was the potion at work. The terror rolling off Potter was positively tangible.

The headmaster was around his massive desk and through his maze of trinkets in a flash, hovering near Potter and reminding him how to use his respiratory system while Severus watched and pondered. The potion must be quite potent, to shut down such a strong streak of Gryffindor 'bravery'. Not to mention Potter's ability to throw off most will-crushing works of magic… A most efficacious philter indeed.

A potion this strong… Perhaps…Had he helped to brew it without even knowing it? Quickly he ran through a list in his mind of recent commissions for the Dark Lord, but no pattern emerged. He should know if it was a potion from a Death Eater! Who else but he could brew to this caliber among the ranks of the trusted? This was quite troublesome – if he was suspected…

Severus was brought his attention back to the headmaster with the intention of voicing his worries. The boy was sitting now with Dumbledore crouched at his knees and peering into his face. Potter looked quite nervous, which may have been an effect of the potion or worry over the fact that he had broken down so easily. Severus decided to broach the topic of the possible discovery of his spy-hood later—he had an interrogation to conduct.

"Potter," he started, "Describe what just happened."

"What do you mean 'describe what happened'? You bloody well saw—" but before Severus could shred him with his whip-like wit and send him into another panic, the headmaster put a hand on the boy's shoulder and softly uttered his name. The boy heaved a put-upon sigh and continued, "It… Well, I was angry," he said with a frown of concentration. "So I stood up to explain why I would strongly prefer to have someone else work on the potion, when I couldn't breathe properly. My throat kind of closed up… I was so scared…" he trailed off as his gaze trailed to his lap, where his hands where fidgeting.

"And what were you afraid of?" was the immediate query from Severus.

"It…I guess I was afraid… of you," he reluctantly admitted. "It was totally irrational. I mean, what's the worst you could do with Dumbledore here? I kept telling myself that, but…I suppose it felt like a phobia? Ron's afraid of spiders, ya see, and I felt like he, er… looks like when he sees spiders…" the boy babbled.

Severus was no longer listening, though. This was bad. If he (whom the boy had pretty much pissed off for sport) could thoroughly terrorize Potter with a few sharp words, the Dark Lord would devastate him! It would be like hexing house elves in Malfoy's kitchen, for Merlin's sake.

"Enough." Severus declared, cutting into Potter's tirade (what a nuisance!) by raising a hand. "Headmaster, if you're finished with us, I would like to run some tests on the boy before dinner?"

With a nod of consent from Dumbledore, Severus swirled away and strode purposefully out of the door, Potter in tow.

Honestly, you'd think he was being led to his death. Really, Severus was trying to lead him away from it.

A/N: Well there's chapter two! Sorry it took a bit, but i got a new laptop! So, I set her up and now I should be able to update regualrily and with longer chapters (i know these are super short!) so YAY!

Thanks so much for the reviews and the alerts guys. You could really get me addicted to this writing thing!