-:-:-:-:-:-
I'm just a little bit off these days
-:-:-:-:-:-

It had been almost two months since the mass breakout from Azkaban, and Severus still received no summons from the Dark Lord. He had been growing more and more irritable, but either no one noticed or no one commented on it. In late February, when an issue of the Quibbler came out with an exclusive interview with Harry Potter (written by Rita Skeeter), Severus read the whole article in the loo during his off period. He was astonished that Skeeter hadn't added any of her artistic embellishments-the story in the magazine matched closely with what he had seen in Nott's memories and in Potter's head.

There was one detail he hadn't known: the last words Diggory ever heard were "Kill the spare."

Severus didn't know how Harry Potter was able to function in society without the aid of Occlumency. By all rights, the boy should be a gibbering lunatic.


When Severus finally felt his Mark burn, the summons came as a relief. He was somewhat surprised to find himself summoned to Malfoy Manor, but he reasoned that it was easier to hide ten escaped convicts there. When he Apparated to the Manor, Bellatrix met him at the gate and escorted him inside with glee bordering on mania. Or perhaps it was mania bordering on glee-one could never tell with Bellatrix. She led him into a dark, curtained room, lit only by a single branch of candles. The room was sparsely furnished, and the Dark Lord stood behind one of two chairs.

"Severus," he said.

"My Lord," Severus said, bowing.

"I trust you've already heard that I've been reunited with some old friends recently?"

"I was most pleased to read about it, my Lord. Bellatrix herself ushered me in."

The Dark Lord grinned widely; the effect was unsettling on the snake-like face. "Yes, Bellatrix was always very loyal. As are the others. And they've been a surprising source of information."

He didn't expect that, but he kept his expression neutral. "Information, my Lord?"

"Yes, Severus-never believe you are my only source for it."

"Never, my Lord."

"Tell me, Severus: how is Harry Potter's Occlumency progressing?"

"Not at all, my Lord. His mind remains completely open."

The Dark Lord nodded. "Kneel, Severus. I have a task to bestow on you."

Severus knelt, carefully keeping his face and mind blank.

"I wish for you to brew me Polyjuice Potion," the Dark Lord said.

Even with a blank mind, Severus's breathing stumbled a bit. He kept his head down as he answered. "Polyjuice is simple enough to make, and if my Lord wishes it, I will make it-happily-but it takes a full lunar cycle to brew."

The Dark Lord seemed pleased. "Wonderful, wonderful. You'll see."


Severus told Dumbledore about the Polyjuice, but admitted that he had no idea what it would be used for. Dumbledore assured him that after the Barty Crouch, Jr. debacle, the castle's wards had been improved to reveal Polyjuiced individuals. So, with no other choice in the matter, Severus returned to his private quarters and began to brew the potion.

As he lined up the necessary ingredients, he idly considered alerting Potter to what he was doing. But the boy was nowhere near subtle enough to understand a sentence more vague than "BE AWARE THAT I AM BREWING POLYJUICE FOR THE DARK LORD."

He idly considered telling Harry Potter exactly that.


The next night, Severus had another Occlumency lesson with Potter. On his very first foray into the boy's mind, he found a memory of a curtained room with two chairs, lit only by a single branch of candles. The Dark Lord stood behind a chair and a man knelt on the floor with his head bowed.

Severus's breath caught-what the fuck was going on here?-but he stuck with the memory. To his great relief, the kneeling man was not him, but Augustus Rookwood.

Augustus Rookwood, Severus thought-the same Augustus Rookwood who was once an Unspeakable-delivering information to the Dark Lord.

Shit.

Potter, of course, could not explain himself, and Severus spent a few moments worried what else Potter had seen in his dreams. "How many other dreams about the Dark Lord have you had?" he asked.

"Just that one," the boy replied, which was surely a lie.

Minerva was right-Potter was a terrible liar even at the best of times, and his lies became more transparent the angrier he got. Luckily, he was easily provoked into anger.

"Perhaps," he said silkily, "perhaps you actually enjoy having these visions and dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel special-important?"

The boy's whole body tensed. Good. "No, they don't," he said stiffly.

"That is just as well, Potter, because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters."

"No-that's your job, isn't it?" As the boy said it, he looked directly at Severus. He looked scared-scared he had said too much, scared he had guessed wrong.

For it had been a guess. Severus relaxed. The boy had not seen his own meeting with the Dark Lord-he was far too artless to conceal something like that. He was far to artless to conceal anything, full stop.

But what did Rookwood know about the Department of Mysteries-about the Hall of Prophecy, in particular? What did this have to do with the Polyjuice Severus was brewing even now?

And why was Severus averse to the idea that Potter may have seen his meeting with the Dark Lord, anyway? It would be humiliating for the boy to see Severus abasing himself before a madman, but it would solve the problem of informing Potter of the Polyjuice.

Severus was so distracted that the next time he cast Legilimens, he accidentally let the boy slip past his own mental defenses-a ridiculous mistake, but thankfully harmless. All his incriminating memories were still stored in the Pensieve.

But then the lesson turned into a pure nightmare-the next time he fell into Potter's mind, Potter fell into the Dark Lord's. The Dark Lord was running down the corridor towards the Department of Mysteries-with Potter tagging right along with him-and Severus tagging right along with him. Severus was badly disoriented, because it wasn't a Legilimic attack on Potter; it was a Legilimic attack on the Dark Lord-and Potter was actively continuing it. With an effort, Severus wrenched himself from the boy's mind, but he could think of no magical means of removing the boy from the Dark Lord's.

Fuck. He'd wasted most of a term trying to teach a difficult skill to a boy he hated, who had neither the aptitude for it nor the desire to learn it-and even if he'd succeeded, the effort would have been futile. The boy didn't need to Occlude; the fucking Dark Lord did.

And fuck Dumbledore, too, for probably knowing all along-that's why he wasn't bothered that Potter wasn't making progress, and why he didn't mind telling the Dark Lord about the plans to teach the boy Occlumency-it was a false trail, a red herring, to keep him from discovering the truth.

These thoughts ran through Severus's mind in seconds, meanwhile, the boy was lying flat on his office floor, panting heavily, deep inside the Dark Lord's mind.

Fuck, Severus wasn't paid enough.

"POTTER," he yelled, not wanting to touch the boy. Thankfully, the boy woke immediately. It didn't surprise him that Potter couldn't explain himself.

Severus barely had time to sputter before the horrible lesson was ended prematurely by the sacking of Sybill Trelawney. He'd never been more grateful to the old fraud.


He reported the entire debacle to Dumbledore. He tried to be sparing with the details; it was disturbing having to report information that showed Harry Potter to be a better spy for Dumbledore, and fucking Augustus Rookwood to be a better spy for the Dark Lord.

"The Dark Lord has learned of the protections on the Hall of Prophecy from Augustus Rookwood," he told the headmaster. "He's formulating a new plan based on this information. The plan involves Polyjuice, and almost certainly Harry Potter. And Occlumency will not help Potter. The boy is Legilimizing the Dark Lord."

He said all of this before he even sat down.

Dumbledore was disturbingly calm as ever. "Polyjuice will not help Voldemort enter the Department of Mysteries," he said, as if this answered all of Severus's concerns.

"But could Polyjuice help Potter enter the Department of Mysteries? The boy is desperately curious about the place."

Dumbledore frowned. "Harry would not need Polyjuice to enter the Department of Mysteries."

"Still...should we not tell the boy that the Dark Lord will soon have access to Polyjuice?"

"Severus, if you tell Harry that, he will never trust anyone ever again."

"Consider for a moment that that may be an improvement," Severus said sourly.

Dumbledore disagreed. "Unless you learn something more specific about Voldemort's plans, Harry need not know of them."

"What I fear, Dumbledore, is that I will not learn of the Dark Lord's plans until it is too late."

Dumbledore had nothing to say to that, so Severus tried a different tack.

"I intend to discontinue Potter's Occlumency lessons."

Dumbledore was silent.

"The boy has neither the temperament nor the desire to learn, and Occlumency won't help him stay out of the Dark Lord's mind."

"But Voldemort can easily use the link in reverse, Severus, and we must prevent that."

"Headmaster-"

"No, Severus."

Severus closed his eyes. "Even if we continue with the lessons, it will not help the boy develop a skill which he has shown no desire to learn. I may as well hold his head under water in order to teach him to breathe underwater."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I believe we did exactly that during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament last year. If you remember, Harry managed."

"Bad example," Severus muttered, and pinched the bridge of his nose.


When Severus delivered the Polyjuice to the Dark Lord, he found the meeting awkward. Was Potter looking out at him from the Dark Lord's eyes at that very moment? Just in case, he was sure to say, "Here is your Polyjuice my Lord. I hope it is useful to you." Surely the boy wouldn't need a broader hint than that.

But Severus never got the chance to see if the boy got his message. By curfew the next night, Dumbledore was sacked, and all the teachers were in a tizzy about Potter's not-so-secret Defense Group finally being found out by Umbridge. Severus himself was surprised the idiot children had kept the secret for as long as they had.

Potter's next scheduled Occlumency lesson was interrupted before it even started, by Graham Montague's reappearance in a Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor. Severus dismissed Potter and went to take care of business.

When he returned to his office, Harry Potter was standing by his desk with his head buried in the Pensieve.

Severus saw spots.

His hands and feet felt tingly.

He nearly cast the Killing Curse straightaway.

But there was nothing for it-he needed to see the damage. He dipped his own head in the Pensieve to see what memory Potter was viewing.

It was only the lowest moment of his life.

Severus grabbed the boy, hard. He shook him, hard. He threw him to the floor, hard. If all Potter suffered was bruises, it wasn't because of Severus's temperance. He threw a jar of cockroaches at the boy's head, hard. The jar was made of heavy glass, and the moment Severus threw it, he meant to kill Potter. He didn't usually miss-so perhaps Potter really was an amazing Defense student and had managed to deflect the jar, wandlessly and wordlessly. Luckily, Potter also ran, which meant that Severus didn't get a second chance. Because he wasn't a man to do things by halves.

He avoided Minerva for days afterwards, ashamed of himself. If the boy told her what had happened, how Severus had behaved-he wasn't willing to justify his actions to her. He could barely justify his actions to himself.

He had been such a fool. He had told Dumbledore that even the name "Department of Mysteries" was to Potter like a red flag to a bull. But then what was a bowlful of hidden memories, sitting on a table in an empty room? ...But why couldn't the boy show one single ounce of decorum?

He cursed himself for putting the memories in the Pensieve in the first place. He had over a hundred empty flasks sitting in his office which would be perfect for storing memories, which were also conveniently impossible to use for viewing those memories. Why hadn't that even occurred to him?

And why had Dumbledore given him the Pensieve in the first place? Did Dumbledore suspect something like this would happen? That was chilling.

His only consolation was that Minerva remained silent on the issue, and the only way she would remain silent was if she didn't know.

At least he didn't see the boy all through Easter holidays.

The first lesson on the first Monday back from holidays was seventh-year N.E.W.T.-level potions. The one Weasley twin-George-was in the class, and without the influence of his twin, there were times when Severus could almost mistake George Weasley for an academic. The boy really had a flair for Potions, and at the end of class that very morning, he approached Severus and said, "You once told us that a true brewer of potions could find a use for bog water. You'll be happy to know, sir, that I think I've found one."

Severus did not ask the obvious question, and Weasley grinned like his teacher had passed a test. Then the boy stuck out his hand and said, "It's been an honor learning from you, sir." Severus looked at the proffered hand, looked back at the boy, and walked away. He could hear Weasley snickering.

He honestly did not want to know.

The next class was Potter's. Potter himself was subdued in class, which Severus was grateful for. He was determined to leave the boy alone-not even offer him advice on how to brew his potion-so it galled him at the end of class when Potter turned in his work. The potion was perfect-Severus could tell at a glace. His ambivalence suddenly left him, and he quite deliberately dropped Potter's flask of potion on the floor. The boy whipped around in disbelief, and Severus said, "Whoops," in a way designed to get under the boy's skin, which worked wonderfully. Severus was almost disappointed that Granger had already Vanished the rest of the boy's potion. After all, it would have been fun to drop flask after flask of Potter's potion.

At the end of lessons that day, Severus was summoned to an upstairs corridor, just past the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, where he found an extensive swamp, complete with smells and wildlife. Several students and teachers were standing around it, gawping.

Umbridge was beside herself, and couldn't seem to form complete sentences, or even thoughts. "WHAT?" she said. "WHO!"

"I saw the Weasley twins, Headmistress," said Draco Malfoy delightedly.

Of course he'd seen the Weasley twins, Severus thought. At least the use of bog water had been for an innocuous purpose-by Weasley twin standards, anyway.

"Me too!" squealed Pansy Parkinson. "And they were headed downstairs, I saw them!" And Umbridge and all her lackeys departed, leaving just Severus, Filius, Minerva, and Pomona staring at the swamp. A light drizzle began to fall.

"This involves a complicated Charm, but there's more magic at work here," Filius said.

"There's a potion in play, too," Severus offered. "And the elements of it are...quite ingenious."

"As is the Transfigured part," Minerva said.

"I think that what we're looking at is proof that Fred and George Weasley could have done much better in all our classes," Pomona said, as a flock of cranes flew overhead.

Minerva laughed, a full-bellied laugh, the kind of laugh that led to a coughing fit. The others stared at her, but did not join in her mirth. "I'm sorry," she said eventually, after she'd collected herself. "But those boys have caused me more headaches over the years than I can count. But if all those headaches brought us to this moment, I find myself quite content with it." She chuckled again.

"Well," Severus said. He crossed his arms and sighed. "I am unable to reverse any of this magic."

Pomona shook her head regretfully, even while she grinned. "I'm afraid I'm quite useless in a swamp."

Filius rubbed his hands together and said, "I'm sure the headmistress will understand our difficulties. She'll likely be able to handle this without us, in any case. Severus, I think you should inform her."

Severus agreed-the rest of them had terrible poker faces.

"Good," Pomona said. "I'm glad that's settled. I always thought this corridor needed more ecological diversity."

The four Heads of House made their way down to the entrance hall, just in time to see the Weasley twins fly off into the sunset. Severus and Minerva, side-by-side, made brief eye contact. Severus kept his face carefully blank as he turned around to head back into the corridor, but as he turned, Minerva held her hand up high, palm facing toward Severus. Without pausing, he took her cue and they slapped each other's palms.


Late that night, Severus got a visit from Dumbledore's Patronus. "You gave me your word you'd teach Harry Occlumency, Severus," it said, and vanished.

He returned his doe with the message: "I gave you my word I would try. The attempt has failed. Good day."

In truth, no promises were demanded nor made, not about results or effort. But Dumbledore tended to remember what was felt, rather than what was said.

Also, how the hell did Dumbledore find out? And how much did Dumbledore know? Did the Weasley twins escape just to tell him? (Severus doubted it. The one twin had seemed far too pleased with himself, and far too genuine to Severus. It was unlikely he knew any dirt about his teacher.)

But Dumbledore didn't send another message, and Severus found that he didn't care.


End-of-term exams were upon them, which was Severus's favorite time of year. He was no longer responsible for teaching the idiots anything. There was no verbal interaction at all-the only thing required of him was to glower. Also, the Wizarding Examinations Authority took over the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. testing, which meant that Severus didn't even have to see fifth or seventh year students for two whole weeks.

One night towards the end of tests, he was urgently summoned to the hospital wing after midnight. When he arrived, he found Minerva in a bad state and Poppy buzzing around her. He froze in the doorway.

"Severus, I'm glad you came so quickly," Poppy said. "I've got her stabilized, but she needs Skelegrow, but she's allergic to-"

"-bicorn hair," Severus said. It was in his professional interest to be well aware of all the staff's allergies, and most of the major student ones. Bicorn could be substituted with unicorn hair, which made Skelegrow slower acting (and thus more painful), but also made the bones grow back stronger. Still, it was an unusual allergy, and they didn't keep substitute potions on hand. Severus would have to make a batch from scratch-a seven hour task, if he didn't take breaks. "I can make it tonight," he said. "Are there any other potions you'll be needing?"

"No, I have enough to be getting on with. I know it'll take a while to make the Skelegrow-that will keep you busy."

He looked at Minerva, absolutely still on the hospital bed and looking very pale. "You'll have it by morning," he said, and turned to leave. He hadn't even asked how she got in that state. Honestly, he didn't have time for idle chit-chat. Poppy had implied that Minerva would be fine, and whatever injury she had that required Skelegrow was best treated sooner rather than later.

He brewed all through the night. Lack of sleep wouldn't matter; his only scheduled test the next day was sixth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. That group didn't even require a full glower.

When he delivered the completed potion, Poppy thanked him profusely. "I'm having her transferred to St. Mungo's this morning-I just knew that you could get her the proper potion before they could. Thanks again, Severus."

"What happened to her?"

She looked at him. "Didn't I tell you last night?" When he shook his head, she shrugged. "I'm sorry-I tend to get a little focused. It's just-that...woman and her minions sacked Hagrid last night, and Minerva apparently got wind of it and tried to step in. She was hit by four Stunning Spells."

"FOUR?" Severus didn't mean to yell, but he'd once been hit by three Disarming Charms, cast by three thirteen-year-olds, and was embarrassed by how long he'd been knocked unconscious by it. Four Stunning Spells, cast by four adults?

Dolores Fucking Umbridge had just crossed a line.


He was summoned to Dolores Fucking Umbridge's office that very afternoon, and was somehow unsurprised to find Potter and several of his cohorts-along with Luna Lovegood?-held captive there. He did his best to kill her with kindness-it was the most infuriating of Dumbledore's tactics, and it felt perversely good to use it against someone else. He even made a polite little bow when he was rudely dismissed.

Before he could make his exit, though, Potter yelled in a panic, "He's got Padfoot in the place where it's hidden!"

Severus froze. His first thought was, "How the fuck did the Dark Lord get one of Black's hairs?" His second thought was to somehow communicate to the boy: "BE AWARE THAT I HAVE RECENTLY BREWED POLYJUICE POTION FOR THE DARK LORD." But he could not possibly convey that in a way that Potter would understand and Umbridge wouldn't. And even if he could, Potter was clearly in no mood to disbelieve what he saw.

(He found out later from Narcissa that the Dark Lord had Transfigured an entire wing of Malfoy Manor to resemble the Department of Mysteries. Bellatrix had taken Polyjuice to transform herself into Black, and gleefully submitted herself to the Dark Lord's torture. And then a group of Death Eaters waited for Potter to show up at the Ministry, where Lucius had placed a Monitoring Charm to alert them to the presence of underage wizards. It was...quite a good plan, and had almost worked perfectly.)

At the time, all Severus could do was try to minimize the fallout. His efforts worked: the Dark Lord didn't retrieve the prophecy, no children were permanently injured, and the only person killed was Black. Potter, of course, was ungrateful.

The first time he saw Potter after the events at the Ministry, the boy was moments away from hexing Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. When Severus interfered, the boy threw him a murderous look. But before the boy could be properly reprimanded, Minerva entered the hall, just returned from her stint in St. Mungo's. Severus thought he hid it well, but he was deeply relieved to see her-even after she liberally rewarded the boy and all his accomplices for their foolhardiness at the Ministry. She smirked at Severus and took a handful of points on his behalf, then shooed all the children away.

Alone in the Entrance Hall, Minerva gave Severus a long look. "I heard that you tried to stop it," she said.

"You'll note that I failed," he replied. "The boy is too reckless."

"He's already suffered enough for it. Albus told me that Black was murdered right in front of him."

His acerbic reply got lost in his throat. He hadn't known that, but it did fit with Potter's unfortunate track record. "That's...that's pretty fucked up," he finally said.

"Then we're agreed," she said, then grabbed his arm and demanded that he escort her up to her office.