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Got bitten by the bitter bug
and I just can't get enough
of ill will and my own conceit
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When the school year started, Severus found it quite easy to slip back into his usual pattern of publicly degrading the boy. Indeed, his protective feelings toward the boy quite evaporated when in direct contact with the infuriating child. Potter was mediocre at his studies, easily distracted, and had a mercurial temper. Severus watched him at mealtimes, when he would often bicker with his friends and leave early, barely touching his food. After one such occasion, Severus spoke with Minerva, seated beside him in her usual spot. "How is he?" he asked her.
She didn't ask for clarification this time. "He is bitterly angry and quietly resigned in turns, Severus. How is he in your class?"
"Mainly quietly resigned."
"Hmph. Maybe you should count yourself lucky. He seems to save his bitter anger for Umbridge's class."
"Is that so," he commented, disinterested, but Minerva was fired up.
"Do you know that she has given him detention for the past two weeks, every night? Detention starts immediately after dinner, and the Fat Lady tells me that he doesn't get back to Gryffindor Tower until well after midnight. Every single night, Monday through Friday."
That did explain the state of the boy's homework. It had been terrible, even by Potter's usual standards. "Do you know what she's having him do?"
"Lines, he says."
"'He says'? Then you don't believe him?"
She huffed. "My students generally don't have the talent for lies that your Slytherins have, Severus. There's a tell-tale pause. 'What are you doing in detention, Potter?' '...Lines.' The pause, Severus."
"Have you asked the portraits to look in?"
She scowled at him. "That...woman is all over paranoid. There are no portraits in her office."
Well, Severus didn't allow portraits in his office, either, and of all his colleagues, only Filius had a portrait in his office, most likely under heavy charms. But sometimes the new teachers didn't know better.
He said, "Well, we can take comfort that he doesn't seem to have procured any broken bones, unexplained bruising, or any other obvious disfigurements."
"Has he not, Severus?" she asked in a dangerous tone. "Haven't you noticed the bandage on his hand?" She stood and left the table quite abruptly.
He hadn't noticed the bandage.
He did notice it during the boy's next Potions class. Potter was quietly resigned, as Minerva had said, his eyes downcast throughout class, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. But he slightly favored his bandaged hand, and he hissed under his breath when he accidentally banged it on the table.
After class, Severus consulted more books on Monitoring Charms, and began to think that perhaps he could modify and merge two existing charms, one for location and one for danger, so that he could know Potter's exact location every time his life was threatened. He even started jotting down ideas for the new spell, until he realized: this was the reckless Harry Potter, hunted by the Dark Lord and all his followers. Severus crumpled the parchment and threw it away. He stared at his empty desk for a while, then began to look up Eavesdropping Charms. Most of these were quite limited by distance and time, but Severus was sure he could modify them easily to suit his purposes.
A few nights later at dinner, as Potter stood up early to leave for his nightly detention, Severus surreptitiously cast his modified Eavesdropping Charm on the boy. But when the the boy reached Umbridge's office, Severus was highly disappointed in what he overheard:
"Good evening, Potter."
"Good evening, Professor."
And then nothing, save for the constant quiet scratching of a quill. For four and a half hours. Then finally, "That's enough for the night, Potter."
Severus was bewildered. But if Minerva thought something was amiss, he wasn't willing to overlook her instincts despite all evidence to the contrary. When he overheard Potter leaving Umbridge's office, he hurried up the stairs from his own office and knocked on the hated woman's door. She bade him to come in, and he quickly said, "Forgive the intrusion, Dolores. I was just patrolling the halls, and found Harry Potter out of bed. He...claims he was in detention with you. I felt it would be best to check his story."
She smiled at him sweetly and with slight regret. "Well, I'm sorry to contradict his story, Severus, but Mr. Potter left my detention at ten o'clock."
Severus smiled back. "I suspected as much. Thank you for your time."
He let himself out and shut the door behind him. He stopped and took a deep breath. There had been blood on the writing desk.
He had no idea what it all meant.
He walked away from Umbridge's office, but didn't get very far before he heard Granger's voice: "Here, soak your hand in that. It's a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles. It should help."
"Thanks," Potter said, and Severus thought that finally he might get some answers. Essence of murtlap? Blood on the desk? A bandaged hand? It made no sense, but evidently the boy had told his friends what was going on.
"I still reckon you should complain about this," Weasley said.
"No," Potter replied, in a tone that brooked no argument.
"McGonagall would go nuts if she knew."
"Yeah, she probably would. And how long do you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"
It seemed that Potter was only able to apply logic when it wasn't in his best interest to do so. He had no sense of self-preservation.
Severus continued to listen as they plotted their teenage revenge against Umbridge, but they didn't once mention her specific crimes. When Weasley began to congratulate Potter on his reckless rule-breaking, Severus prepared to cancel the spell. He couldn't bear to hear blind luck praised as a virtue. But then Potter spoke, and he seemed to feel the same way as Severus.
"That was luck," Potter interrupted. "That wasn't skill." And then later, "That was a fluke," and then, clearly agitated, the boy yelled, "I didn't get through any of it because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because-because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right-but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing!" There was the sound of breaking glass.
Severus snorted. He would have never guessed that Potter was even a little bit self-aware. But as he continued to eavesdrop, he found that Potter also had a hefty case of survivor's guilt. "You two sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up-you just don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me-"
Severus quickly canceled the spell before he could hear any more, but it was too late. His stomach had already clenched up the way it had when he watched the scene in the graveyard. He'd listened to too much, and not discovered anything about the boy's detentions.
Draco and the other children of Death Eaters gave Severus no cause for concern, which was a cause for concern in Slytherin House. Severus hoped he worried for no reason-perhaps the parents really were leaving their children out of the fight for the time being. No one seemed unduly concerned with Potter, and better yet, no one seemed to be unduly unconcerned with Potter. This meant one of two things: either the Dark Lord was too proud to use children to capture a child he intended to kill; or the Dark Lord was unsure he would be able to kill the child. His obsession with the prophecy certainly made the latter scenario more likely.
In private moments, Severus wondered if the full contents of the prophecy would be hugely embarrassing to the Dark Lord: perhaps there was mention of the worthier opponent always being victorious? Or perhaps the prophecy predicted a perfectly level playing field-a fifty-fifty shot at victory, and the Dark Lord had already gambled and lost twice.
Dumbledore had mentioned living, dying, and surviving, and Severus was shrewd enough to surmise that the prophecy was not specific as to who did what. Living and dying were the same, the headmaster said. And living and surviving were different.
Lily died. Severus survived. Lily had lived. He wasn't sure if he ever had.
Severus spent the rest of the term ignoring Harry Potter, which was his preferred mode of existence. Therefore he was somewhat irritated when a full Order meeting was called to discuss the boy's plans for Christmas. There were other items on the agenda of course, but Potter's holiday plans certainly took up the bulk of the meeting. Arthur and Molly Weasley strongly insisted that Potter be allowed to go to their home for the holidays; Sirius wanted the boy to stay with him; but Minerva and Dumbledore were resistant to either option.
"He would be safer at Hogwarts," Minerva said.
"But he would be happier in our home," Molly insisted. "We can put up extra wards!"
Severus resisted the urge to put his head down on the table. And bang it.
"Grimmauld Place is as safe as Hogwarts, and I'm sure Harry would love it here," Sirius argued.
Molly shot back, "You mean YOU'D love to have him here, for your own selfish reasons! He couldn't have a very happy Christmas is this musty old place!"
Dedalus Diggle asked, "Why doesn't he go back to his relatives? He's safe there, after all."
After the slightest pause, the conversation carried on as if Dedalus hadn't spoken. In the end, the Weasleys prevailed, and Dumbledore agreed to set up extra wards on the Burrow.
Minerva caught Severus's eye on the way out of the meeting. "Oh, I suppose you're going to argue that a full Order meeting is not necessary to hammer out the details of Potter's Christmas holiday," she said good-naturedly.
He grunted in reply, and she laughed at him.
"You know who would agree with you, Severus Snape?" She paused, as if waiting for him to guess, but then wisely answered her own question. "Harry Potter."
"Minerva, I spend as little time as possible pondering the minds of teenagers, but I do get the vague impression that if you told any one of them that a group of teachers and other assorted adults were discussing their future, he or she would be properly mortified. I hardly think this makes Harry Potter special."
Inexplicably, she grinned, grabbed his arm and walked beside him. "There's the Severus Snape I've been missing. For a while, I was worried you'd gone soft."
Weeks later, the Order's plans came to naught. Early in the morning on the last day before Christmas holidays, Severus was summoned to the headmaster's office.
"Ah, Severus. Do come in. Would you like some tea, perhaps?"
"No thank you, Headmaster."
"Very well. Close the door, please, and have a seat."
Severus contrarily stood in front of Dumbledore's desk, but the old man didn't react to his rebellion. "Severus, something happened last night...something that was quite inevitable. Still, it forces our hand a bit."
"Headmaster?"
"Arthur Weasley was on guard duty at the Ministry last night. He was attacked by Voldemort's snake. He will make a full recovery-Harry was able to alert us of the attack almost immediately."
"Harry...Potter."
"Yes, Severus. It appears there is a-connection between his mind and Voldemort's. And last night, Voldemort became aware of the link, and that the connection is likely to work both ways."
Severus suddenly knew that he wouldn't like Dumbledore's reason for telling him this.
"So," the headmaster said lightly, "the Weasleys and Harry Potter will be absent from classes today."
"Where did you send them?"
"To headquarters. It was the safest."
"Safest. Just so I understand, Harry Potter shares the Dark Lord's thoughts?"
"And Lord Voldemort now knows he can share Harry Potter's thoughts."
"Yes, good, then I did understand. So why is Potter at headquarters again?"
"Because it is the best place for Harry."
"Oh, of course, I see," Severus said, and finally flung himself into the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk.
Both men fell silent. Severus wanted to argue the point-letting Voldemort see the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was madness, surely Dumbledore knew that-but Dumbledore's simple answer prevented any arguments. Severus decided to get to the heart of the matter. "Why have you told me this?"
"Because it is suddenly important that Harry learn that there are some things he must not share. Not with Voldemort." Dumbledore nodded, and Severus seethed. He knew what Dumbledore was hinting at, and was angry at the man for not coming right out and saying it.
"You want him to learn Occlumency."
"Yes, I do."
"Again, why am I here?"
"I should think it's obvious that I cannot be the one to teach the boy."
Severus gritted his teeth. "Headmaster...surely you realize that I-of all people-I cannot be the one to teach him."
"Severus, Voldemort already knows of Harry's vulnerability. I am perfectly content if he is also aware that I know of his vulnerability. By all means, tell Tom that I have asked this of you. If you wish, tell him that I insisted, that I made it a condition on your employment. You must do this, Severus."
Severus stared at him. "Just so that we're clear: You want me, Severus Snape, to teach Occlumency to Harry Potter-Potter!-a skill which requires absolute mental control-to Potter!-and, should I actually succeed, it will directly oppose a madman who thinks I'm on his side." Severus covered his face with his hand.
"That's about the short of it, yes."
Severus stood abruptly and looked at Dumbledore. "If that's all, then?"
"You must start at the beginning of next term. You may, of course, borrow my Pensieve. And if you'll please visit Grimmauld Place to let Harry know the plan."
"Certainly, certainly. It will be my pleasure. Now, if you'll excuse me-" and he fled Dumbledore's office. His heart was thumping madly-he wanted to scream and punch and break things and hex people. He numbly walked down the empty halls to his own office, where he closed the door, sat down at his desk, and buried his face in his hands.
At the moment, he really, really hated Albus Dumbledore.