AN: I feel it quite necessary to apologize for my absence and hope I may be forgiven for it. :) Just would like to offer an oath that I will not abandon any of my stories no matter how much the "real world" tries to make me do so. Hope you enjoy, here is the next chapter.
Chapter Eight
Harry bounced onto his usual bed in the infirmary, setting his new jacket carefully on the bed beside him. It had picked up a bit of dirt during the skirmish, but Harry was pleased by it nonetheless. His potions master banged on the matron's door, offering an apologetic shrug when she angrily yanked it open, glaring accusatorily at the professor.
"A student requires your attention," Severus informed her dryly. Dumbledore glided over toward Harry.
"It has been a busy day for you, yes, Mr. Potter?" The headmaster asked, adjusting the candelabra on the end table.
"Yes, sir," Harry answered, fiddling with the wraps on his arm.
"I understand you had a bit of a run in with a rather nasty wizard, Mr. Potter?" Madame Pomfrey crowded the headmaster from Harry's bedside. She waved her wand over the young patient.
"Yes, Ma'am," Harry agreed warily, watching the witch as she made some key parts of his body light up like a deranged Christmas tree.
"Potter, I'll be with the Headmaster. Occupy yourself but keep away from trouble and remain available." The Potions Master took hold of the Headmaster's shoulder and nudged the elder wizard towards the infirmary doors.
"Well, Mr. Potter, whoever did these wrappings certainly takes no pride in his work…"
-~PULSE~-
"It was eerie, Headmaster," Severus took the proffered tea cup with the overly sweetened tea.
"And you say he tried to blackmail you, claiming he had no choice but to betray me himself?" Dumbledore leaned backward, stroking his beard in a slow rhythmic manner.
Severus set his tea down in disgust, "Kingsley Shacklebolt is so clean his arm pits squeak when he walks. What on earth could the Minister have on him that would make him submit? What's more, I'm certain he's under some sort of imperious-like curse that keeps him docile, something tactile induced, perhaps."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore agreed, "A method that induces irrationality and is apparent in the subject's behavior. The Minister had to release Kingsley from the spell when I entered the room. Had we both been able to witness the oddities, we could have created waves for him."
Severus nodded in agreement. "Do you know of any such curses off hand? I have never studied such a potion."
Dumbledore gazed into the fire, "I've an idea, but I'd rather not speak of it just yet." The old man shook himself and faced Severus once more. "The whole ordeal reinforces my belief that you must begin Harry's training in certain offensive magics." He raised his brow expectantly, forcing his meaning to be clear.
The potions master grimaced, "We've barely begun discussing what he expects from the apprenticeship. I just put in an order for his robes."
Dumbledore palmed his hands upon the desk. "Do you consider Mr. Potter a target of the remaining Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathizers?"
"Yes," Severus answered flatly sensing the headmaster's direction.
"And do you consider yourself to be one such target?"
"Yes." Severus pursed his lips in annoyance.
"And was he able to efficiently defend himself this afternoon?"
Severus refused to answer. Given the chance, the boy might have stumbled into a stroke of luck against their attacker.
"The boy is in danger," Dumbledore calmly reiterated. "Do you deny you are now the best person to protect him and in turn teach him to protect himself?"
Severus threw his hands into the air in exasperation, "Very well, you old coot!" He whirled to the exit. Hand upon the knob, he turned, an apologetic grimace upon his face, "I do agree with you, Headmaster. The boy needs training, but so far the knowledge of pulsing has brought precious little besides negativity for me. I have reason to hesitate before dragging Potter into that."
~=PULSE=~
Harry looked up from his new wrappings at the sound of the infirmary doors, expecting to see Snape arriving to collect him. Madame Pomfrey was, for some reason beyond Harry's comprehension, reluctant to release her young patient without Snape's express permission. As direct consequence, Harry had taken to counting the strands of fiber visible in his wraps in an approximated three by three centimeter square on the top of his left hand. It was a fascinating task, indeed.
His M.I.A. master, however, was not his visitor. Hermione's naturally pleased-with-her life demeanor, attatched to Hermione herself, entered through the doors with all of her usual contentment. Based on her expression, Harry was unsure if he was happy to see her. That thought brought a grimace to his mind, a reaction barely contained, once he realized how positively Snape-ish it was to think of one of his best friends like that.
"There was a rumor you were here, Harry," she remarked by way of greeting. "Are you getting your hospital stay quota filled early this year?"
"Ha bloody ha, Hermione," Harry countered dryly as he tried to adjust his eyes from their prolonged close focus of his arm. "Can't spare some sympathy for the injured?" He held up his arms by way of explanation.
Hermione looked on in concern, "What happened to you? Is this why Professor Moody is coming to castle early?"
Harry tilted his head, "I don't know anything about that. We, Snape and me, were questioned by the aurors after we were attacked. Ron's coming back, too?"
Hermione looked confused for a moment, "I guess you haven't really had a chance to hear, yet. The Ministry encouraged Professor Moody to come to Hogwarts earlier than he was scheduled to, I am assuming because of your attacked. Seems like the Minister himself got involved."
"Is Ron moving back into the tower?" Harry asked.
"No, he'll be staying with Professor Moody, just like we'll all be staying with our instructors. Hasn't Professor Snape spoken to you about it?"
"We haven't had much of a talk about anything, yet. I sort of assumed after what Dumbledore-"
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Hermione interjected.
"Yeah, after he told us we have to move in with the professors, I just assumed it would happen sometime today. Didn't plan on ending up here, though," he gestured to the infirmary room.
Hermione looked down, uncharacteristically avoidant as she picked at Harry's comforter. "Harry," she ventured, "Ron claims you picked a fight with him last night and were on his case this morning. He blew up when I tried to ask him about it further. What's going on with you two?"
Harry's eyes flashed, "I didn't pick anything with him! How are you letting him spread lies like that? You know that's not me."
"I know Ron's a prat at times," Hermione assured. "I think Ginny and he, and Neville to a lesser extent, are having a harder time than we are. They grew up knowing of these arrangements and the honor they are meant to entail."
Harry withheld a petulant sneer, "Shouldn't that make them more prepared? Besides, the whole reason Ron's upset with me is because I supposedly knew Snape would be my mentor-"
"Master," she interjected.
"-before him," Harry continued uninterrupted. "The whole thing is stupid. It's not like knowing slightly ahead of time gave me anymore choice than him!"
"Mr. Potter," Pomfrey chided, bustling from her office and over to Harry's bed. She waved her wand over him, "Your pulse is elevated." She whirled on Hermione, "I'll not have you upsetting my patient, Miss Granger. Should you distress him further, I will take things up with your Mistress!"
The teens waited in silence for the matron to fiddle and fuss with Harry's set up and leave before resuming their conversation. Harry bit the inside of his lip, a grin forming on his face.
"What are you snickering about?" Hermione queried, affronted by the Matron's rebuff.
Harry shook his head, "I've been finding humor in odd places, lately."
Hermione glanced over Harry's form, concern showing in her eyes, "Why are you in here, anyway?"
"I think Snape and I's outing is the reason Moody's coming early. We were attacked while shopping off Diagon Alley."
Hermione gasped, "Death Eaters in Diagon Alley?"
Harry shook his head in the negative, "We'd left Diagon Alley for some other robe shop to get me some non school robes."
"Professor Sinistra ordered a custom set from the arithmancy guild to wear outside of school proper," Hermione supplied offhandedly. "Are you alright?"
Harry shrugged, then scratched at the sore muscles in his shoulder with his fingertips, "As well as can be expected after having a roof crumble on top of me." Harry stared at the far wall. "Snape was pretty brilliant, though." Hermione perked up in interest, usually it was like pulling teeth to get Harry or Ron to say anything positive about their dour professor.
"How so?" she asked when Harry didn't continue.
"Well, it all happened so fast, like, faster than last year at the Ministry somehow, maybe because there were less people about fighting. Snape was all over the place, "I think he even lost his wand at one point near the end, but next thing I knew, he was firing off some sort of force that bypassed me completely and went straight for the evil dude. It was almost like it was vibrating through me. It was really wicked. I know we kind of knew it before, but really, Snape's got skills."
"I wonder what sort of spell he used," Hermione pondered aloud, "I would think it'd be dead useful in battle, you could tailor it to not hit your allies, unless it was dark or something."
Harry shook his head, "I doubt even Snape would perform dark magic in front of so many witnesses."
~=PULSE=~
Severus took his time on his trip towards the infirmary. Although he typically played up his reticence to do anything the headmaster requested of him, in the case of Pulsing, his put upon posturing was less posturing than his true opinion.
True, his apprentice wasn't too much older than Severus was when he started, and was in decent shape besides. But, he worried the boy wouldn't have the mental discipline required to Pulse safely and excellently. There was an ever present danger having otherwise could overtax your mind and heart.
And those concerns weren't even taking into account he'd be introducing Harry to the seedy underworld of Dark Magic. Perhaps Severus, himself, would go down in history as the Man who tainted the Boy who lived.
Severus wondered if Dumbledore would be so keen on Harry instruction if he knew of the organized machinations of the Dark wizarding community.
Every person who pulsed with any sort of regularity could then feel the presence of the ability in others who practiced. It was how his "tailor" had identified Severus, and Severus' father, so many years ago, and it was how they would identify Harry if Severus taught him. The Tailor's hooks were invasive and far reaching, the man considered himself the head of their informal organization. Severus snorted at the thought, he only admitted to two masters and the Tailor was not one of them.
Pulsing would indeed be a powerful and effective weapon for his apprentice, but at what cost?
Severus casually rounded a corner. Due to his detour, he was still several floors and corridors from the infirmary. Within an instant, he regretted his travel choice as he came face to face with Auror Moody and the ginger third of the golden trio.
The two older men stopped in each other's paths.
"Professor Moody," Severus greeted neutrally, "I was under the impression you would not be returning until closer to term."
Moody grunted, "Your frolic this afternoon changed my plans. I was called in early to babysit you and Potter."
Severus forced his expression to remain unaggressive, "I suppose that means you'll be spending the majority of your time outside your trunk, as opposed to your last visit. After all, it would be a task indeed to babysit much from inside a 4X4 cube."
Moody snarled as Ron itched towards his wand.
"Dear me," Severus backtracked with mock repentance, "Have I said something to offend you? I do apologize if that is the case."
"I'm watching you, Snape," Moody spat, a bit of spittle flying from his lip and patently heedless of the boy beside him eating the situation up as "proper ways to interact with Snape."
"Hmm," Snape mused, glancing distractedly at the anxious, young wizard, "Well I suppose then it's a good thing your apprentice has plenty of experience following mine around. Perhaps he can give you some pointers on being a shadow." Severus smiled engagingly. He shook his head in amusement, "I am certain your acute paranoia has served you well, Professor, however, this time you have driven yourself around the twist.
"There is very little that goes on here with which the Headmaster is in the unawares. Do you really think he would risk the future generation of our society by allowing me to do anything illegal? In front of the Boy Who Lived, no less?" He smirked, "Trust me, your attentions would be better spent on that one." He nodded in Ron's direction before whirling and stalking off in a flurry of billowing robes.
Moody and Ron glared like a couple of angry crups at the Potions Master's retreating back. Severus smiled to himself at a job well done.
~=PULSE=~
Severus paused just outside the infirmary doors, ears perking at the voices filtering through the portal.
"I honestly expected more from the 'ceremony'," Hermione lifted her hands in air quotes, "when the apprenticeship became official."
"Like what?" Harry asked.
"Oh, I don't know, something more magical than signing a slip of paper and sending it off with a ministry owl." Harry's head tilted in confusion.
"Yours didn't glow silver after both of your bloods were on the paper?"
Hermione looked taken aback. "The blood?"
"Miss Granger," Severus drawled, quickly crossing the small distance from the doors to Harry's bed. He noticed his apprentice's sharp look at his intervention. "I do believe the matters I must speak of with Mr. Potter take precedence over whatever titillating conversation the two of you have struck up." He tilted his head in the direction of the doors. The girl stood quickly, a frown forming on her inquisitive face as she murmured goodbye to Harry and practically fled from the room.
"Mr. Potter," Severus approached the young wizard who straightened his posture in the infirmary bed. "I trust you are feeling well?" Harry nodded warily. One never could be certain what mood you'd catch Snape in.
"You didn't have to be so rude to Hermione," Harry commented sourly.
Severus' eyes shot skyward, "Are you presuming to instruct me how to speak to my students." Within the next instant, the Potion Master's mood lightened exponentially. "Actually, none of your little friends are actually my students anymore." He smirked roguishly, "Thank you, Mr. Potter, I believe you did just brighten my day."
Harry's brow furrowed, but he let the other man's demeanor slide. He was, after all, anxious to escape Madame Pomfrey's domain and was equally curious about what the aurors had questioned Snape. Whether or not Snape still considered his friends his students was of little concern to Harry.
"Everything went alright with Dumbledore? Can you tell Madame Pomfrey to let me go?" Harry asked hopefully.
Severus crossed his arms and leaned back against the frame of the bed opposite Harry. "Headmaster Dumbledore. There are certain matters we must discuss. The choice of venue, I shall leave to you."
Harry took a second to translate Snapish to English before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reaching for his shoes. "Anywhere's better than here."
Severus nodded sharply, "I will retrieve Madame Pomfrey for your release."
Severus led Harry down to the main floor of the castle. Harry expected a turn towards the dungeons however a quick hand on his shoulder changed his direction and steered him towards a seldom used corridor whose entrance rested beneath the main stair case.
"Where are we going," Harry looked back at the man who was temporarily behind him. "Sir?" he tacked on at the last minute.
"Memorize this route. You will find our," Harry could actually feel the sneer in that one, "rooms through this corridor. I find it a more convenient route than using the dungeon entrance, and it will spare you from having to traverse Slytherin territory unattended. Mind, do not let anyone follow you to this entrance and during the day, I fully expect you to enter through the dungeon level." The potion master halted before a blank wall and withdrew his wand. He ran the tip along the seam between two layers of stone before placing his free hand palm down upon the same spot.
"Now repeat my actions," he ordered. Harry complied easily. A shock pricked the center of his palm and the tips of each finger; he quickly removed his hand and stared at the offending stone.
"What was that?"
Severus ignored the question and crossed to the opposite wall where a painting of the night sky over a valley shadowed by a tall mountain graced an otherwise unremarkable wall. He clasped his hands behind his back and less than a second later and barely perceptible click was heard. The portrait swung open, and the potions master stepped through, never turning to make sure Harry was following.
"I welcome you to your new arrangements," Severus offered somewhat graciously, Harry could still detect a hint of resentment in the statement.
Harry disregarded the dubious reception in favor of discreetly gaping at the professor's quarters. The color tones were warm, creams gracing the floor and walls while olive rugs and wine throws threw off hospitable accents without seeming Christmas-y. It was a tidy front room which centered around a large fireplace. The most fascinating thing to Harry was how lived-in and homey it all looked, almost as if Snape was a normal person.
"This is brilliant, sir," Harry offered genuinely. Severus, who'd been heading over to one of the arm chairs near the fire, paused and regarded his apprentice shrewdly before nodding once and taking a seat. He gestured for Harry to do the same.
Harry followed, wondering how big the professor's quarters were as he spied a small, wrought iron staircase leading downwards from behind a half wall a meter or so behind Severus' chair. On the other side of the room, an archway served as a gateway to a small kitchen and dining area; in between the two were two doors.
"Is your survey complete?" Severus asked, though not precisely unkindly, once the boy's eyes finally met his own. Harry had the grace to redden and nod. "Very well, I brought you here, to, among other things, discuss what exactly we wish to accomplish in this apprenticeship. Furthermore, we shall come to an accord and abide by that accord for the duration of our interactions." Severus watched as Harry shrank into his chair a little.
"I admit to having had a few conversations on the matter with the Headmaster. He believes our main focus need be on teaching you to better defend yourself. I am inclined to agree, however, I wish to obtain your opinion on the matter." He raised his eyebrows in question. His apprentice refused to meet his gaze.
Harry clasped his hands in front of him and started to pick at his thumbnail, glaring the offending skin into submission. "Defense is always important, and I am good at it. You wouldn't have to work so hard at teaching me." There was a melancholic note to the younger wizard's voice, Severus honed in on it instantly.
"Perhaps you think by agreeing you will get off easy with little work," Severus accused.
Harry's head shot up, eyes widening a bit, "That's not what I meant, at all."
Severus rolled his eyes, "So, you do wish to obtain a mastery of defense? That is well within my abilities to provide. What are your other interests?"
Harry blew the fringe from his eyes. "I like transfiguration, I guess, and well, you are a potions master."
Severus' nose crinkled, "I can offer you private instruction in transfiguration, however, Minerva would need to help you further in order to receive your mastery qualification.
"Potions," he smirked, "will not be a problem." Harry reckoned Severus looked quite smug as he said that. "Is there any other major field?"
Harry shook his head in the negative. "No, I think that'd be it."
"Very well," Severus flicked his wrist, a roll of parchment and quill set sailed through the air. "You and your fellow apprentices will still attend advanced classes in the respective unaddressed subjects. During your free time you will assist me with my classes as well as attend to the different special tasks I will assign you. As for format, we will cover some transfiguration during your Monday spare time, Tuesdays and Thursdays for potions, and Wednesdays and Fridays for Defense. Expect Saturdays to be mostly spent assisting me whereas most Sundays will be left to you." The quill scribbled furiously upon the parchment, outlining a chart and the details of Severus' explanation. "During the Summer, of course, this will be different. In concurrence with the Headmaster, we will be starting with Defense first.
"Do you accept this proposal?" he asked.
Harry, although put out by the distinct implication that his free time would be severely limited, was frankly surprised to receive Sundays off. He also wagered, with the absence of Potions and Defense and a lighted Transfiguration class load, he'd probably have more time available than he expected.
And he doubted Snape would change his mind even if Harry did find fault with the outline.
Harry nodded slowly, "When do you want to start?"
~=PULSE=~
Narcissa Malfoy scowled at the mere thought muggle her husband insisted on bringing into her home. For the past few months Lucius had been obsessing over his latest plan to bring their Lord back and thus ensure the final ascension of the pure people of the wizarding society. Now that he finally had the special man, whom she now knew to be Severus Snape's father, Lucius had taken to locking himself in the library with him for hours on end, emerging each evening with new scrapes and bruises. Quite frankly, Narcissa could not believe the humiliation her proud husband was subjugating himself to. She knew once the Plan was complete, she would take great pleasure in destroying what little remained of the horrible muggle that was Tobias Snape.
"Darling," her husband drawled as he entered the room, "You have that look about you. I've no doubt this forebears trouble for me." His smile was lazy and self assured, but she could see the actual fatigue through any attempt at charming her.
"Another day with that wretched man is over? Have you made any progress," she asked.
"Not as much as is necessary," he sighed. "Soon, my love, soon we will be rid of that vermin." He cupped her face in his large, well-manicured hands, " I know you detest his presence just as I do, however, Snape is an essential key for the return of our Lord."
"The father or the son?" Narcissa asked, flipping her hair to the side as she dislodged her face from Lucius' grip. Lucius, taking no offense, smirked and disrobed on his way to their en suite.
"Hmm, my love, it matters not," he called back, "After all is said and done, neither of them will be our problem anymore. The Dark Lord will flourish, and the Malfoy line will be at his right hand."
~=PULSE=~
Hermione Granger prided herself on being in the know. Let no one be able to accuse her of ignorance, particularly due to her birth origins. When Harry spoke of blood in connection with his paperwork, Hermione felt the ugly beast of unawareness rear its hideous head. She flipped through the book that was quickly earning itself a place on her shelf right next to Hogwarts: A History, The Mastery of Mastery.
She was keenly aware of the fact that her friends did not share her enthusiasm with regards to their newfound relationships. She was determined to spin everything in a new light for them, to cheer her fellow Gryffindors up. However, what if, in Harry's case particularly, things were more sinister than a simple 'new spin' could resolve.
The Gryffindor shook her head stupidly; wasn't she the one who said serving an apprenticeship with Professor Snape would be an honor? Which it was, the man was more sought after than an elusive chocolate frog card by apprentices and journeymen across Europe. And here she was automatically jumping to the conclusion that the man was being less than ethical regarding Harry's contract.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to research the matter a bit more. Next time she saw Harry, she would get him to describe the use of blood and its effects entirely.
She flipped to the beginning of the book to start her second, more thorough study of the material. The chapter title sparkled up at her: The Sacred Ties, and she sighed. She hoped it was simply ingrained paranoia leading her to suspect ill of her potions professor, if for no other reason than they all deserved a break this year.
AN: Thanks for reading! Please feel more than free to click that little review button on your screen. Come on, you know you can feel it beckoning…