Hi, Happy New Year, I hope all of you are well. I meant to post this chapter sooner but I fell sick at the beginning of the holiday. On top of that, I re-wrote this chapter three times before I was more or less satisfied with it. I hope you'll like it!
The morning of the Yule Ball was eventful. Harry got reluctantly out of bed before any of his peers woke up, dreading the upcoming lesson with Moody. It was their last meeting of the year and Harry just wanted it to be over so his holiday could finally start.
One quick shower and a modest breakfast later, he found himself stepping impatiently before Moody's office. Even from a distance, Harry could hear muffled noises originating from behind the door, and knew better than to disturb his defence professor. That left him stranded in a cold corridor without any activity to occupy him.
He didn't mean to eavesdrop. Really. But then he recognized the deep, annoyed voice and Harry couldn't help himself – he found his ear glued to the old wood.
"…absurdity. You've searched everything thrice since school started. Even your paranoia cannot be inexhaustible, and my patience certainly isn't. Should I find you raiding my classroom one more time, Dumbledore will be informed."
Harry had never heard Snape speak with so much restrained anger before.
Moody searched Snape's classroom? Why?
He pressed himself closer to the door, dying to catch Moody's response.
"Threatening to run away like a scared dog with tail between your legs, are you? Wouldn't be the first time. Go ahead and whine to Dumbledore all you like, but you cannot fool me. He may trust you but I don't, Snape. If I see fit to investigate your rooms every day for the rest of your life, you will allow it."
Harry's jaw hung open.
Moody was crazy, utterly insane, calling his potions professor a scared dog? And suggesting Snape whines? Harry was sure the next words out of the Potions Master's mouth would be the killing curse, yet the heavy silence stretched on endlessly. Even he could feel the suffocating tension radiating from the closed room - it made his skin prickle.
Harry tried to imagine what was possibly happening inside the office, his guesses ranging from an intense staring contest between the men to Snape skinning Moody alive and using him as a potion ingredient. At least, he was sure Moody would not go down without a fight.
Then, he heard movement and managed to step away just in time to avoid the swinging door. Snape's frame greeted him in all its glory, and Harry suddenly wished he had stayed in bed that day. Forget the Yule Ball, forget the lessons – he's had enough of these coincidences.
Fuck, he swore internally, longing to be anywhere but standing in front of the visibly enraged man. Why does this always happen to me?
"Potter!" Snape addressed him fiercely once he saw him, making Harry zoom backwards until his back hit the cold, stone surface of a Hogwarts' wall.
Not good, he's about to bite my head off.
"Imhereformylesson," Harry explained (a tad too) quickly, stumbling on his own tongue. He wanted to avoid Snape's wrath at all costs – the man looked intimidating as ever. Unfortunately, life was never that simple.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for such a blatant lie," Snape hissed, narrowing his eyes slightly. "And speak human language, however onerous it may be for your intelligence!"
Harry opened his mouth to argue (this time with the intention to articulate properly), but an ominous expression settled across Snape's face, successfully subduing him.
"You were eavesdropping."
It was a statement. Simple, naked statement the professor spoke into the dense air around them. It cut through the silence like a sharp knife, creating a frown on Harry's forehead. His attempt to put distance between himself and Snape became pointless when the man advanced towards him. Harry willed the wall to swallow him.
How does he know?! Deny it, he has no proof, Harry thought feverishly.
"I wasn't-"
He was cut off as Snape grabbed a fistful of his robes near Harry's collar, leaning uncomfortably close to the boy's face.
"What did you hear?" He all but spat out, the dark eyes blazing dangerously. Not good, not good, not good…
"Nothing! I was about to knock-"
"Don't lie to me, Potter. You can't bear the consequences. What. Did. You. Hear?" Snape seethed, his previously suppressed anger scarcely containing itself.
Harry desperately inched away from him, if only there was any space left to back away. He won't let me finish a sentence, how am I supposed to explain anything? he thought resentfully and was about to challenge Snape when Moody came to his aid.
"And you say I'm the paranoid one," he remarked, leaning leisurely against the doorframe. His magical eye was staring intently at the pair, giving Harry a familiarly unsettling feeling that Moody was looking right through them.
Snape let go of Harry in an instant as if he was burned. He backed away, drawing a breath of relief from Harry once he regained his personal space.
"I found the boy snooping. It is hardly difficult to assume who taught him these manners," the Potions Master directed his ire to Moody.
"Potter is due to his extracurricular classes, which I'm sure you've been informed about, given I told you myself," Moody stated, not a bit phased by Snape's icy aura.
Harry meanwhile admired his defence professor. Facing Snape's most angered self head-on deserved respect, but then the words Moody said sunk in and something inside Harry twisted.
"You knew?!" he turned to Snape once the realization hit him. All the lingering fear from when Snape had him pinned against the wall was momentarily forgotten and Harry let the fury swallow him.
He kicked me out of the self-study period, and yet he knew?! Memories of the incident came flooding back, inflaming Harry further.
He didn't know why he was still surprised by the unjustness of the man, but it was something he would never get used to. Harry would never let Snape's favouritism go unnoticed. He simply couldn't. It reminded him of the harrowing reality he yearly experienced at Dursley's, and Harry decided long ago he'd not be treated the same way at Hogwarts, at his real home.
Snape sneered back at him in response, his face twisting in a particularly disgusting expression.
"Is something not to your liking, Potter?" He mocked Harry. "Are you perhaps not satisfied with the special treatment?" Snape raised one of his eyebrows provocatively, awaiting a reaction that didn't come.
Harry had to crush his bottom lip between his teeth to keep silent.
"Pity. I was under the impression you'd appreciate being conducted differently, considering how often you expect it from everyone," he continued when Harry stubbornly glared back at him.
"It wouldn't be the first time your impression was wrong this morning, professor," Harry finally snapped. "You might as well award back those twenty points to Gryffindor for your previous misjudgement."
He knew he was pushing it. It was more likely for Moody to grow back his missing leg than for Snape to award points to Gryffindor, but his defence professor was right there - Harry was relying on him to interrupt should the Potions Master attempt to become a murderer.
And by the look of it, Harry judged he might need Moody's assistance sooner than expected.
Snape's eyes flashed with something foreign, something evil… something Harry hadn't seen before. A desire to harm. Harry realized he might have gone too far and panic threatened to wash over him, but then the man blinked and it vanished – familiar animosity settled back in place.
"Another thirty points from Gryffindor for the unmitigated disrespect. Count yourself lucky, Potter, if it weren't for the Yule Ball today and your presence wasn't regrettably required, I'd have you scrubbing caldrons with your bare nails until tomorrow evening!" Snape fumed madly – which was a good sign. Snape speaking at normal volume was better than Snape whispering or hissing.
Harry was about to speak, inhaling deeply to start his rant when Moody decided to rejoin the conversation.
"Yes, well, that's very touching. I'm sure you'd like to taunt Potter for the rest of the school year, fortunately, we've got work to do. You've delayed us for long enough," he barked, signing to Harry to come forward. "See you around, Snape. Were I you, I'd watch my back."
Moody shut the door right in front of Snape's big nose before he could say anything. Harry caught a glimpse of his professor's baffled expression and he couldn't suppress a smirk, it wasn't every day he saw Snape raging until he turned white. For a moment, Harry thought he would storm back into the room and strangle Moody the muggle way, but it never happened.
"Sit," Moody simply instructed him. He himself limped towards his usual seat and sat down, eyeing Harry closely.
An awkward pause followed, neither of them spoke or moved. It seemed like Moody was waiting for something, but Harry couldn't tell what.
I should speak up, this is getting uncomfortable.
"Why did you go to the dungeons the other day, sir?" Harry blurted out when the silence became unbearable. Although the question was hardly a good conversation starter, it was still better than discussing the fresh encounter with Snape. Something told Harry he wasn't to go poking the wasp nest.
But Harry just had to know what was the whole 'raiding Snape's office' about. Is Moody really suspecting Snape? Hermione's words came back to him. He hoped the question seemed casual – after all, he had meant to ask it.
Moody's magical eye pierced through Harry for a long moment, making him swallow dryly. Was I too obvious? he worried.
"I was beginning to think you'd never ask," Moody finally replied, looking somehow content. Harry let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "With your perception, I expected you to bring it up on our first lesson," he scolded Harry.
"Well, I intended to but it didn't seem appropriate…" Harry trailed off, his cheeks heating up.
"There is never an appropriate time for the right questions, Potter. Remember that. Constant vigilance!" Moody shouted his obligatory slogan.
"Anyway, me and our potion-obsessed acquaintance Snape just had a little overdue chat. You had the liberty to see the consequence of it this morning," the professor explained and then took a sip out of his flask. "Dumbledore is too trusting. He believes in second chances, I say different. If being Auror taught me one thing, it's the fact that people never change. Ministry may foolishly disregard Snape's past but I'm not that easily convinced, even with Dumbledore's vouching."
Harry didn't know how to respond when Moody fell quiet. Many questions swam in his mind (What past? Why is Dumbledore vouching for Snape? What's got Ministry to do with all this? Is that why you searched his classrooms? Did you find anything? Come to think of it, what were you looking for?) but he had a hunch Moody would not reply to all of them, so Harry picked one – the most important one and quickly asked it before he changed his mind.
"Do you think he put my name into the Goblet?"
There, he said it. Hermione and Ron would've been proud.
Moody gifted him an odd glance and didn't speak. The silence was crushing. Harry's heart hammered in his chest in anticipation, he nibbled the skin on his thumb with his index finger, fidgeting relentlessly. He already regretted saying anything but since Hermione mentioned the possibility of Snape being the instigator, it's been sitting at the back of his mind, bothering him. The previous meeting with Snape didn't add to the man's favour either.
Is Snape really behind all of this? What am I to do if that's the case? Will Dumbledore take my side, given he trusts him?
"Auror's rule number seven: Never speak about an ongoing investigation with anyone – not even with your higher-ups. Don't disclose any information that could be vital to cracking the case!" the professor finally said harshly. "Only when it's absolutely necessary and beneficial to you, you reveal partial truth mixed with lies."
That wasn't what Harry expected to hear. At all. It was a yes or no question, he thought bitterly. The anxiousness that rose within him didn't disperse after he heard the weirdly-worded lecture. Harry was determined to find out more. He'd already decided to do this, there was no backing down.
"So… you're investigating him," he concluded carefully.
"Auror's rule number ten: Everything is suspicious, Potter. I'm investigating what needs to be investigated, every person, animal, ghost, creature and sound. The draft that blows through a dead-end windowless corridor – what's it doing there? The puddle of dark liquid smeared in the corner of the hallway – where did it come from? The way students cough despite drinking a healing potion – what period are they trying to miss and why? Eve-ry-thing," he enunciated.
Hearing Moody speak gave Harry progressively the impression that the professor was just stealing Filch's job. He realized the case was long lost. Moody was tight-lipped, more than Harry had anticipated. The conversation was going nowhere.
"Is there a whole book about Aurors' rules that I could read or…?" Harry scoffed, suddenly feeling annoyed.
"Auror's rule number eighteen: Ask stupid questions, get stupid answers." Moody bestowed him a meaningful glance, titling his head upwards. "You don't need any books, you're a natural, Potter. Now, let's start."
With a heavy sigh, Harry got to his feet, bracing himself for the lesson. He was counting the seconds until it was over and he could re-tell the events to his best friends.
OoOooOooo
Resisting Imperius was still easier said than done. Despite the breakthrough in mindset Harry achieved during their last lesson, Moody still managed to successfully control him entirely throughout the session. It was becoming frustrating for the teen.
Harry left his office feeling like a beaten dog, his mind replaying scenes that happened before the lesson even began. He could feel an incoming headache nestling right behind his forehead, pounding painfully. What a long day, Harry summarized grimly, realizing it was only early lunch hours. The ball, which seemed miles away before, was suddenly not so far away anymore. The threat named 'the opening dance' approached faster than ever.
Once Harry reached the common room, he was disappointed (and horrified) to learn that Hermione had already started her preparations for the ball.
"Why she needs so much time to prepare is beyond me. She doesn't even have a partner, what's all the fuss about?" Ron complained while staring at the chess board in front of him, debating his next move.
"I just hope nobody expects me to do the same," Harry remarked, trying to imagine getting ready for the occasion for more than half an hour. He shuddered.
"Nah, we want to play a few rounds of Exploding Snap, me, Dean and Neville. We were actually waiting for you to come back from the pits of Hell," Ron joked around but his smile fell when he noticed Harry's expression.
"Now that you mention it, I met Snape," he said gravely. Harry wanted to wait until the three of them were together, but then he changed his mind. The sooner he got it off his chest, the better.
"What? To stumble upon Snape during holidays, that's some rotten luck, mate," Ron pitied him.
Harry rolled his eyes and quickly went over his morning, explaining important parts and omitting details. He had to re-tell it again to Hermione, and she would see more logic in his talking than his awestruck best friend whose mouth was currently hanging open.
"So we were right?!" he exclaimed once Harry finished his tale. "Snape's behind all of this! Moody must be close to cracking the case!"
"Ron, weren't you listening? Auror's rule number twenty-eight: keep your investigation secret," Harry retorted sarcastically. "I don't know. He kept telling me even a draft is suspicious. But one thing is certain – Moody doesn't trust Snape, that's why he searched his classroom. Maybe he's been looking for proof to present to Dumbledore. Apparently, he's vouching for him."
"Dumbledore? What did the git do that he needs Dumbledore's protection?" Ron's face screwed up into an ugly expression. "You think he killed someone? A student? Poisoned him to death? Made it look like an accident?"
Harry shrugged dismissively. Neither Ron nor Harry was the brightest mind in the school. After brainstorming a few theories, one more unrealistic than the other, the pair had to admit defeat. Without Hermione's insights, it was just a guessing game.
The boys played a few games, chatted, and Harry did his best to occupy his clouded mind, attempting to ignore approaching Yule Ball until the very end. At some point, the majority of the male Gryffindor population decided to have a snowball fight in the freezing weather, which busied Harry enough.
Flushed and exhausted, the group dispersed less than an hour before the beginning of the ball, the boys heading towards showers or their bedrooms. Harry reluctantly followed their lead as the inevitable couldn't be avoided any longer.
Ron wearing his traditional robes did spell a smile on Harry's face. Somewhere between Harry's laugh, he promised his best friend a dance, and then Seamus and Neville chipped in, making Ron's face redder than his hair. The common room roared with laughter until Harry took pity on him and ushered everyone to the Great Hall.
He hoped the rest of the evening would be just as entertaining.
OoOOoOooO
Hermione's partner was Krum, Cho went with Cedric, Ron went ballistic and Harry's opening dance had been a disaster. And all this happened within the first twenty minutes.
Harry knew he should have stayed in bed all day. He should've realized the morning was a bad omen (Divination didn't seem so useless anymore) and avoided everyone until the year was over. But since he didn't, he found himself in a heated brawl between his two best friends. What a joy.
The shouts got louder and Harry was forced to get involved after people started staring. Hermione stormed off, Patil sisters left sometime during the second song and to Harry's distress, Percy and Bagman took their seats and wouldn't shut up about ministry issues.
"Let's go for a walk, we'll get rid of Percy…" he whispered to Ron after a few long minutes, who wholeheartedly agreed.
Harry lied about getting more drinks as they scrambled to their feet and rushed off, disappearing between the dancing crowd. Their end destination was a pink garden outside the Great Hall with several giggling couples scattered around, keeping them company.
Harry picked a random path and they strolled around lazily, enjoying the silence. He didn't know how to start a conversation with Ron, his best friend was still fuming from the argument with Hermione and the least Harry wanted to do was to pour oil into the fire.
It wasn't long before Harry's ears caught an uncomfortably familiar voice – the second time in one day. He groaned.
"…I don't see any reason for hysteria, Igor."
"Severus, you cannot pretend it's nothing!" a quiet but audibly distraught Karkaroff replied. "It's been months, and it's becoming more and more clear. I can't deny, I'm quite worried…" he trailed off.
Ron and Harry exchanged looks before crouching behind a pink bush.
Since when are Snape and Karkaroff on first-name terms?
"Then run away, while you still can. Go, I'll excuse you, but I'm definitively staying at Hogwarts," Snape retorted, sounding annoyed as always.
"I wouldn't mind Snape leaving as well," Harry heard Ron whisper right next to his ear. He nodded in agreement.
The odd pair emerged from behind a corner, entering Harry's vision. He and Ron had to practically glue themselves to the bush to keep invisible.
Snape was wearing a sour grimace and his typical black robes. Harry realized he did not see him at the ball and thought about Ron's previous remark – how the Potions Master wasn't going to have a dance partner. He supposed Karkaroff wasn't his date (given how grim both of them looked) and that Ron was indeed correct. It made him smirk victoriously.
"You know it's not that simple," Karkaroff protested weakly, considering Snape's words.
"What do you expect me to do about it then? I offered you a way out," Snape's voice got progressively harsher. He seemed fed up – but on a second thought, when wasn't he?
"Aren't you worried? If he indeed comes back..."
It was then Ron lost his balance and fell forward into the bush, having the big plant swallow him whole. It caused a commotion. Harry cursed at him.
"Shh!"
He heard Snape hiss, and then he spotted his wand raised towards their direction. Harry had to think fast. Despite the popular belief, he wasn't suicidal to be caught eavesdropping twice in one day by Snape. The man would - without a doubt - follow through with his earlier threats and taunt Harry forever. And this time, Moody wasn't there to protect him.
I don't need protection, Harry frowned at the thought and got his act together.
"Ron, just because it's called Butterbeer doesn't mean it's an actual beer," he heard himself say in an overly amused tone, forcing himself to fake a laugh. He extended one of his hands to Ron, who was gifting him a confused glare. Harry willed him to catch on. Fortunately, Ron did in the next second.
"Sod off! You shouldn't have shoved me so hard! One battle with a dragon and you're suddenly unbeatable," Ron laughed back nervously, accepting Harry's offered hand. Both their palms were sweaty. Harry helped him to his feet just as the Potions Master approached them.
"What are you two doing here?!" Snape barked out. When Harry turned to him, there wasn't a wand in his hand anymore - they'd barely escaped a jinx. Karkaroff also disappeared.
"Just walking," Harry mumbled, hoping to seem casual. Ron with leaves and branches sticking to his clothes wasn't painting the nicest picture.
Snape narrowed his eyelids in an all-knowing way and Harry's gut clenched. They were screwed.
"You seem awfully disengaged for a teenager on a social event, Potter," Snape commented hatefully, continuing to size up both boys. "I could still make your detention happen and free you from the obvious boredom. Mr. Weasley will join you," the professor smirked evilly.
Says someone who didn't attend the ball at all, Harry wanted to argue back, but Ron bested him.
"Ac-Actually, sir, Harry promised me a dance, right Harry? We should go, I love this song!"
The tunes of solemnly slow melody coming from the Great Hall filled their ears. Ron's cheeks heated up while Harry chewed his lip to bit back a laugh.
Snape's eyebrows were raised so high they almost disappeared into his hairline. Harry saw he was about to speak and took their chance to escape.
"How could I forget? Let's go, this song is perfect," he rambled, clasping Ron's arm and dragging him off.
To their horror, Snape followed them all the way back (Ron didn't fail to whisper alarmingly to Harry 'He's after us' every three seconds). Harry's steps were forced to reach the dance floor before they halted. He exchanged a hopeless look with his best friend and then glanced back at Snape, who was leaning against the main entrance, watching them intently.
Ron gulped in understanding and hesitantly placed his hands around Harry's torso. Harry's palms just as hesitantly (and with a great amount of spite) made contact with Ron's shoulders and the pair moved rigidly back and forth, swaying slightly.
"He's still watching us," Harry hissed when Ron's expression fell more and more uncomfortable with each passing second.
"Yeah, and he's not the only one," he remarked. It was then Harry became aware of all the eyes on them. Given the nature of the song, there weren't many couples on the dance floor and Harry's plan to blend into the crowd fell through. There were more spectators than dancers.
"Keep moving, Snape seems ready to storm here and assign detention until the end of the year," Harry warned his best friend who had 'make it stop' written all over his face. Harry himself wished to fall through the floor, never to be seen again.
Ron nodded and did a spinning manoeuvre to liven up their gloomy dance moves.
Harry prayed for the song to end soon. It didn't. It went on and on, dragging the tunes lazily around. At some point, Harry heard Malfoy comment on his dancing partner, but he only mustered a weak 'jealous?' retort, sudden tiredness crashing at him.
The day was an endless disaster, making it rank the second worst since the school term started. Only having his name spat out by the Goblet topped it. The first task was a light breeze compared to the tornado named Yule Ball.
They were saved by Dean, Seamus, and Neville, who all took pity on them and came to their rescue, storming to the dance floor while complaining that Harry wasn't supposed to keep their damsel to himself. Ron didn't mind the comments anymore, he was just glad to finally sit down. Harry shared the sentiment.
When the Ball ended at midnight despite the objections of some students, Harry was delighted to leave. On his way back to the common room, Cedric stopped him and gave him the weirdest advice ever – to take a bath with the golden egg in the prefect's bathroom.
Harry laid in his bed frowning and confused and despite the exhaustion, the sleep wasn't claiming him.