What's this? A new chapter after so long? Wow! Thanks for reading everyone! :)
Harry cursed at himself internally. The well thought out excuses that he had concocted had disappeared, and rather than quickly creating another, the best that he had been able to do was take all the blame upon himself. Now he was stuck serving a detention that he had essentially asked for. Harry was mad. Yes he had done it and yes it served him right for interfering with Snape's plans. But when Jake had seen him floundering for an excuse, and when he had claimed responsibility for the detentions, shouldn't he, as Harry's boyfriend, have stood up for him? If Jake had wanted his friends out of detention so badly, couldn't he have still stayed with Harry and taken some of the blame? But he hadn't, and Harry didn't know what to do with the rage slithering around inside his chest.
"Potter!" barked Snape from his desk. Harry startled and realised he'd been staring off into space and had stopped scrubbing at the third of the five cauldrons that he would be cleaning that night. Harry's internal clock told him that it was already around 10pm. Curfew. It had taken an hour per cauldron, and if he couldn't speed up the process he was likely to be in Snape's office until one in the morning. Sighing, Harry pushed the sleeves of his robes farther up his arms to keep them safe from the purple sludge he was scrubbing at rather futilely.
When the sludge remained as firmly fixed as ever after another bout of scrubbing, Harry glanced over at Snape. The professor was hunched over some parchment and muttering to himself. By the scowl on his face Harry guessed that it was some poor soul's essay that was about to be ripped to shreds. Feeling his heart start to pound in anticipation of a tongue-lashing, Harry quietly approached the angry man's desk.
"Sir?" croaked Harry, his throat dry. Clearing it, he tried again. "Professor Snape?" Snape's head shot up and his dark eyes locked predatorily on Harry.
"Potter?" Snape countered.
"It seems that there has been a reaction. That is. Um. There's some purple stuff that won't let itself be cleaned. I mean…"
"Potter, are you so incapable that even a bit of goo with no brains has the ability to outsmart you?" growled Snape menacingly. Harry just stared, unable to form any sort of reply whatsoever. With a roll of his eyes, Snape slashed an F on the paper that he had indeed been grading, stood, and walked over to the suspect cauldron. Glancing inside, Snape immediately regretted his harshness. Yes Potter was stupid, but there were many sorts of failed potions that couldn't be scrubbed out without a bit of extra help. This was one of those situations, and now Snape had to do one of his least favourite things. Apologise. Snape cast a charm to counteract the magical adherence of the sludge and saw Harry's eyes narrow in suspicion.
"It required a charm to work loose. Apologies Mister Potter," Snape mumbled through tight lips. He then whirled on his heel and slammed himself back into his desk chair. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that nobody else's assignment would pass that night.
A distant chime could be heard from the hallway as the clock struck midnight. Rather than speeding up or even maintaining his cleaning speed, Harry was actually making slower progress than before. Multiple patches of sludge in cauldron 4 had been incredibly stubborn, and while not requiring spells to be worked free, still were nearly impossible to budge. Harry's arms were aching, his back hurt and he was slowly developing a splitting headache from some of the residual fumes given off by the cauldrons. Harry closed his eyes for a moment and attempted to calm his aching head. When he opened them he nearly jumped out of his skin. Snape was looming over him and he hadn't made a sound as he approached.
"What is taking so bloody long Potter?" snapped Snape, examining the half cleaned 4th cauldron. "I would like to get some rest at some point this evening, if you can be bothered to care," he continued. Harry straightened up and felt his temper flare, reviving his tired body.
"Maybe if you had realistic expectations for what one person can do, I would be done by now and we could both be asleep," Harry yelled. A look of surprise flashed across Snape's face briefly at the outburst, before it was concealed behind his neutral face once again. The boy did have a point though, if Severus was honest. He had been expecting Potter to do the work of five all by himself. Snape inhaled sharply through his nostrils and calmed down.
"You are correct Mister Potter, though it would do you well to show respect for your betters. Finish the cauldron that you are on and you may leave. The fifth will be reassigned to whichever idiot chooses to gain themselves detention first tomorrow," Snape conceded. Harry thanked his lucky stars for the rare break that he was being offered, and turned away to keep scrubbing. Snape grabbed his arm and roughly spun Harry to face him again. "You would be wise also, to remember that it is stupidity and not loyalty that allows one to admit to a crime which was not his," Snape whispered harshly as his fingers dug into Harry's bicep. "I let it go this once, because we all do things which we feel we must for…love." The last word was spat disgustedly. "But if you are ever so spineless as to do it again, be warned that I will make your life a living hell. If you cannot be bothered to care for your own pride and worth as a respectable young wizard, then I will not offer you that respect either. And trust me Potter. You do not wish to lose my common courtesy," the threat was uttered softly, but in a voice that promised torture. Harry nodded and his arm was shoved away by Snape, as once again the man whirled back to his desk. It was another hour before Harry finished the cauldron and headed up to Gryffindor tower and his neglected bed.