Wit of the Raven
Chapter Four
Harry woke up from his nap several hours later. He shifted around in his bed for a little while longer, before he decided that he couldn't possibly get back to sleep. Harry yawned, and pushed off each consecutive layer of covers slowly. When he finally got out, he realized that he had worn his clothes into bed, and then soon after, that they were severely rumpled. He moaned, began to pull them straight, when he heard a throat being cleared, and realized that he wasn't alone in the room.
"Pr-professor! I didn't realize you were still here!" Snape was absentmindedly zapping seemingly random items with his wand, covering them in a peculiarly iridescent film. Upon further inspection, his eyes seemed rather strange, the arteries strangely highlighted.
"Glad to know that I'm appreciated, Mr. Potter," Snape remarked dryly. "I've been leech proofing all of this since you fell asleep, which must've been . . ." Snape looked at his wrist, where a watch was resting on it, and after examining the watch for a few seconds, raised his head again and announced, "yes, three hours ago." He continued, obviously amused, "Don't worry, Mr. Potter, I'll soon be out of your way."
"I- no- I'm very sorry for falling asleep while you're still here, Professor." Harry said, flushing.
"No fear, Mr. Potter. You've made things much easier by doing so. I do believe that I'm nearly finished. Just these lamps, and the bed, that's all." Harry stood and quietly watched Snape coolly coat the lamps in the room. After that, he motioned for Harry to go towards the table, and in one swift motion levitated all of the layers of the bed into the air, and seemed to place them on an invisible clothes line, as they neatly folded themselves into two identical sides. He quickly zapped these items too, and then started on the bed frame. Once he was finished, he carefully brought the sheets, mattress, and blankets back to the bed, and poked his right, and then left eye with his wand. The peculiar colors in his eyes receded, and his eyes seemed normal again, if a little bloodshot.
Again the Professor reached into his sleeve, although this time he pulled out a brand new utilitarian knife, as opposed to the ceremonial one of before. He chanted a phrase in a harsh tongue, that reminded Harry of the noise of a freezing wind sweeping over Surrey, and Harry involuntarily shivered, getting goose bumps. Snape again cut his arm, but this time let the blood drop from his arm, towards the floor. About a foot away from the floor, it stopped, and zoomed off towards the far wall.
The Professor flicked his head once to the right, and then to the left, creating soft cracking noises, before deeply exhaling, and grabbing a chair from the table. "Sit down, Mr. Potter. You shouldn't feel compelled to remain terminally standing."
Harry quickly grabbed a chair and sloppily sat down, deeply impressed with this feat of magic. "Will I learn how to do that too, Professor?"
Snape nodded coolly, saying, "The levitation is first year charms, although it's unlikely that you'll be taught how to juggle multiple objects until second year. Preventing an object from stealing magic is simple, although tedious. However, it's not covered in a standard curriculum. It's a healer's charm, mostly." Snape paused, as if considering his words. "You will not learn the last charm unless you pursue Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Defense Against the Dark Arts and a little bit of . . . " again Snape paused, as if wondering whether to go on or not. "spell combination. Not the most useful branch of magic, although it has some uses, such as allowing me to swiftly redirect the leeching. Now it'll steal the magic from my blood, not yours, when it needs to."
"Mr. Potter," Snape started, "I will come back to see you tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, until you are better, most likely two weeks. Goodbye." With that, Snape turned towards the door, and began to walk out.
Harry, rather surprised, just stood there, dumbfounded, although he supposed that Snape had to leave sometime. Right before Snape walked out the door, he abruptly turned around again, before conjuring a letter, and floating it towards Harry. After a few seconds of surprise, Harry reached out and grabbed it. Upon seeing that Harry had the letter, Snape strode fully out of the room, and down the corridor, closing the door behind him as he went. Harry rushed out after him, only to find that he couldn't get the door open. He struggled with it for a few more seconds, before giving up, and sighing. He eyed the bed again, but opted instead for the desk, sitting down in the chair. He took the letter out of the envelope, and began to read.
The door is locked, I do not wish for you to become victim to EME again from objects in the hall that aren't leech proofed. I will visit you tomorrow at precisely three thirty. By that time I expect you to have written a one thousand word report on the various dangers of the unintelligent use of magic, focusing on over extension of an inborn capacity to do magic and the exceptions to these rules. You can findThe Outstanding Dangers of the Unintelligent Practice of Magicon the bookcase, I fetched it while you were sleeping.
Harry looked over, and there it was, a slim, red, hardcover book, next to an enormous blue dictionary. After reading perhaps a page of it, he closed the rather dry reading, and went back to the letter.
The essay is to have a thesis paragraph, several body paragraphs, followed up by a conclusion paragraph, in which you tell the reader what the 'Moral of the story' is. Going back to the body paragraphs, each paragraph should have one overarching theme supported by three specific examples. So, "People sometimes get EME after being subjected to extreme temperatures" does not work, but "People are more likely to become affected by EME after being subjected to extreme temperatures such as in the case of Deborah the Fearsome's ill-fated hike across Antarctica." If you have forgotten to buy some, there are pens on the table, and a whiter-out beside them.
Make haste.
Professor Severus Snape
P.S. I have explained to the hotel staff your condition. Any magical items sent to you have been leech proofed, and are safe.
Harry sighed, and decided to delay the reading of the book for a short time, maybe reading a bit of the other, less boring books. He got out Logical Magic, and began to read. Several hours, halfway through the book, he easily fell asleep, worn out by the day's events.
Snape sighed again, and slapped the essay back onto the table, scowling at Harry. Harry winced, and bit his lip as he hung his head, gazing intently at his knuckles. "What's this supposed to be again? An essay? It seems more like a fool's attempt to appear capable of participating in intelligent society. I see no specific examples, whatsoever." The professor exaggerated his last two syllables by smacking the table loudly. Directly afterwards, noticed Harry's wince, and where Harry's eyes were placed, and snapped loudly. "Potter! Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" Harry's eyes snapped towards his nose, with some amount of fear. "Well? What were you thinking?"
"Er, sir, I think that this, here, is an example . . . er . . . where it cites that EME generally causes symptoms that are painful . . ." Harry whispered nervously.
"Yes, yes, yes, that's an example, Potter, Very good." Snape said, in mock sweetness, before glaring at Harry intently. "But not specific. In the least. Which symptoms are you thinking of? I have no idea, at all. Tell me. But not now. First of all. When did you wake up? And look into my eyes, so that I'll know if you're lying."
Harry locked eyes with Snape with much trepidation, and answered carefully, "Around ten o'clock." Not a lie, he supposed, 8:45 is kind of around ten o'clock.
"Lie," Snape breathed. "When did you wake up?"
Harry swallowed, and softly replied, "Eight forty-five."
"Ah, so you had nearly seven hours to do this in." Snape reflected on this for several seconds, before asking another question. "What did you do when you woke up?"
Harry, not even bothering to lie, replied, "Took a shower, read Logical Magic."
"Mm, a noble task. I commend for it. Have you finished it?" Snape's frown broke a little, and Harry gave a small smile, taking it for a good sign.
"Yes, professor," Harry replied, with a little more courage.
"Then I'll bring you another book on Arithmancy in a few days. Now. Tell me. . . . When did you start Todotupom?"
"Er... sir? To... do... to..."
Snape interrupted impatiently, "The Outstanding Dangers of... oh, you know the rest. It's abbreviated as Todotupom. When did you start to read it?"
"Um, around 1 o'clock, sir?" Harry quietly said.
"Is that a response or a question, Potter?" Snape queried intently.
"A response," Harry responded firmly.
"Then say it as one," Snape commanded.
"Around one o'clock, sir," Harry repeated, although significantly more firmly.
Snape relaxed a bit, and smiled. "Very good, Potter. Now when did you finish it and start to write this crap?"
"Around two o'clock, sir," Harry responded firmly.
"In regards to your tone of voice, excellent. In regards to your study habits, horrendous." The professor sighed, before motioning for Harry to pull over a chair. "Come, we'll go over your essay." Harry nodded grimly, before sitting down.
"So," the professor continued, "Here, you even start out badly. A horribly weak thesis sentence. This disease is a horrible thing that is easily preventable." Snape shook his head, lips pursed, and asked Harry, "What disease? How is it preventable? Speak more, Mr. Potter."
Seeing that Snape was looking for a reply, Harry said softly, "Extreme Magical Exhaus-"
"What? I can't hear you. Say it with conviction."
Harry set his jaw, and said again, "Extreme Magical Exhaustion. Prevention techniques include knowing how far to push yourself, not using magical objects that you don't know how much they leech, and . . ." Harry inhaled slowly, before letting it out quickly. He looked Snape squarely in the eye, and stated, "I forget my last technique."
Snape nodded approvingly, before rebuking, "That's because your extremely vague thesis statement isn't even very accurate. Your third body paragraph ends up being about the upsides of Extreme Magical Exhaustion. But other than that, you seem to know what you're talking about. Let's see the second paragraph." Snape took a moment to find his spot on the page, before beginning again. "Good . . . knowing how far to push yourself . . . you mention learning it as you get older and use more and more magic, but you don't have any specific examples."
"But- sir- how could I possibly get a specific example for that?" Harry implored.
"Well, you could quote the book, as if I remember correctly, it has a few pages on it. Also, you're a little brief on the notion that this isn't foolproof, as while you're accustoming yourself to magic, you'll continue to grow in magical power, until you reach your threshold. Second example, yes, there are items that can tell you if you're in danger of suffering EME from casting a spell if you describe the spell to it, but you don't mention the name of these objects. You have got a name, haven't you?" Snape asked.
"Yes, er . . . they're called . . . core analyzers?" Harry guessed.
"Yes, but next time don't guess, say it like you know it, even if you don't."
"They're called core analyzers," Harry replied, a little more firmly.
"Are you sure?" Snape inquired again, his tone turning nasty.
Surprised at Snape's change in tone, Harry paused in his reply, before gathering himself, and replying with self assurance. "Yes, Professor. I'm sure."
The edges of Snape's lips tilted upwards, almost in a smile, and he handed the paper back to Harry. "Although I've been complaining about it for what must seem like hours, this isn't such a bad paper. I'd probably give it a Dreadful if it were in my class," Harry cringed, but Snape continued on blithely, "But you're not in my class, and you won't be in my class for another five years. I teach the NEWT Potions classes, and quite honestly, you won't be required to write this kind of a paper overnight until then. In a first year class, with no real explanation of how an essay should go, this would most likely be at least an Exceeds Expectations, bordering on Outstanding."
Harry, rather astonished, sat stunned for a moment, before grinning, and looking Snape in the eye. "Thanks, Professor!"
Snape lost his almost-smile, and gave Harry an icy look. "However, just because it's a decent essay for a first try doesn't mean that you can get away with doing my work at the last moment." He pulled out the bag that he had put Harry's wand in, and reached around in it, putting his arm in much farther than physics should've allowed, before pulling out a stack of papers. "I have underlined the sections pertinent to your essay. You will have finished reading it by tomorrow." Snape stood up, and asked Harry, who was still awkwardly maneuvering out of his chair, which he had pushed far too close to the table, "What books do you want?"
"What?" Harry asked, caught by surprise. Seeing the beginnings of a glare on Snape's face, he hastily added, "Sir."
"Well, I told you that I'd get you some books in Diagon Alley, didn't I? Come across anything in your reading that interests you?" Snape asked, clearly impatient.
"Er, well, sir, you mentioned . . . Spell Combination yesterday?" Harry questioningly stated.
Snape grimaced, and looked away, as if embarrassed. "It's a useless art, Potter, and nearly lost now, as it's relatively pointless. However, if you must have it, I shall obtain it for you. Now-"
"Thank you sir," Harry interrupted brightly.
"I don't know why you're thanking me for getting you a useless book." For some reason, Harry could've sworn that he saw a glint of happiness in Snape's eyes, but he must've been mistaken, as his words clearly refuted it. "Now, do you have any other, 'Last Requests'?"
Harry smiled, before nervously wetting his lips, and beginning, "Um, sir, do you . . . well . . . I don't suppose you knew my parents?"
Snape grimaced, before nodding. "Yes, you can suppose that I did."
Harry's eyes grew wide, and he excitedly asked, "Do you have any pictures of them?"
Snape looked at the wall, and pursed his lips. "Your parents were notorious for their dislike of photographs." At Harry's downcast expression, he continued, albeit hesitantly. "However," at Harry's look of hope, he smirked, and continued, more strongly. "I believe that I'm in possession of a group photo that they were roped into by the Headmaster."
At this, Harry's outright grinned, and placing his hands behind his back, he leaned back, and exclaimed, "Thank you! That'd be great!"
Snape's smirk grew, and he tilted his very slightly to the side. "Well, you must've done something other than neglect my essay yesterday," he began, pausing to allow his smirk to grow a little more when Harry looked guiltily to the side, before continuing. "So tell me what you've been up to within the last 24 hours."
Harry's face lit up, and he began to lean forward slightly. "Well, I was reading this brilliant book, called logical magic. It explained how with just a simple spell like the wand-light charm, one could light an area with a radius of up to one hundred meters- one hundred meters!" Harry repeated, clearly in awe, "Provided you use eleven of the spells at exactly thirteen centimeters away from each other, because eleven is light, and thirteen is wand! How brilliant is that!"
Snape nodded thoughtfully, and informed Harry, "Yes, Arithmancy is typically used with larger magical workings, as it significantly cuts down on the amount of power needed. However, it's safer to not use distance Arithmancy." Seeing Harry's confused expression, he clarified, "Distance Arithmancy uses the distance between the spells to amplify the spell. It's also notoriously finicky. If it's off by more than the reciprocal of the number you're using in centimeters, then it doesn't work." Harry's mouth slowly curved into the shape of an 'O' in surprise. "Most people just use pure numeric Arithmancy, which in this case would be casting, ah . . . Eleven by thirteen . . . one less than twelve squared," Snape thought out loud, "143 times. Which takes longer than just casting eleven of the light spells, but it has a 100 percent rate of success."
Snape was silent for a little while, before abruptly demanding, "Well, any questions about Arithmancy?"
Harry, getting used to Snape's rather brusque form of speaking, barely flinched at all, before shooting, "What would happen if you cast two elevens, 121, light spells?"
"Well," Snape responded, "If you're referring to the wand-light spell, then it wouldn't work, because you're not taking the wand, or more accurately, focus, into account. But if you mean the light spell," Snape raised his voice at the end of the sentence, posing a question.
"I do." Harry answered.
"If you mean the light spell, then it would square the effect. So assuming that the eleven light spells extended it to a sphere radius of 1000, not because it would but because it's an easy number to work with in this case, you'd multiply the length radius by 10."
Harry peered over his glasses at Snape, as if trying to figure out whether he was kidding or not. "But, if you're squaring the effect, then you have to multiply it by itself, right? So it would be by a factor of 10. . . ."
Snape shook his head, and replied, "The effect in cubic meters, Potter. The formula for the volume of a sphere is four thirds pi r cubed, so if you want to square the sphere, you have to find the cube root of the initial radius."
Harry thought that over for a little while, before his mouth again curved into an 'O', this time one of comprehension. "Wicked," he breathed.
"Any other questions?" Snape queried.
"Er, no." Harry took a deep breath, and began to ramble, loudly. "The book was mostly on why the different numbers work with different items, and the ways that numbers can be substituted if you aren't sure of what number the item is, and why it can only work with prime-"
"Yes, I'm familiar with the book, I've read it several times myself." Snape interrupted, with a slightly bored look on his face.
His face red, Harry continued, with a softer tone. "Yeah, the book doesn't really leave any loose ends. But . . . " Harry's wrung his hands, and bent his head so that he was staring directly at his nervously bouncing knee. "Er, Professor Snape, why are you assigning me work, and visiting me, and helping me?"
Snape seemed to think for a while, replacing his smirk with a thoughtful expression, before putting out a fist, and sticking up one finger. "First of all, the Headmaster is giving me a large sum of money to make sure that you don't die." He stuck out another finger, and continued. "I owe your mother a debt, and I know that she wished for you to become knowledgeable, and to go to Hogwarts. You can only go to Hogwarts if you're not an idiot, so I had resolved to turn you away from that path if you had become an idiot, but seeing as you're clearly not, I'll teach you instead." Snape stuck up a third finger, "And third of all, I personally owe you rather a lot for ridding us of The Dark Lord."
Harry was silent for a little while, contemplating this, and then Snape stood up, and pushed his chair in. "Well, assuming you have no more questions," he stopped, waiting for Harry to respond. He did, with a quick shake of the head, "Then I'll be going. Good day, Mr. Potter, and I do hope that you do your homework properly this time." He took a few steps towards the door, before glancing to his side, and whispering just loudly enough for Harry to hear, "Don't try to just skim it over, either. I'll know." The Professor took a few more long strides, and was gone.
The hairs on the back of Harry's neck raised, and he shivered, before reaching immediately for the papers that Snape had left. He'd make sure to read them each twice, this time.
The next morning, he woke up, and began to go over the best points that the papers had brought up, which were really just that, A, if there are loopholes you should take advantage of them, because if they haven't been closed yet, then someone is keeping them open, most likely, and if that person is benefitting from the loopholes, then why shouldn't you, B, the laws state that when a child is emancipated, then they're technically their own guardian, and if the guardian of the magical child is magical, then they can decide the punishment for their child, and C, the enchantments detecting magic can't pinpoint the person, and so owls are only sent out if there's a known magical child with known muggle guardians. So really, it's only applicable for muggleborns.
Harry rolled out of bed, taking his covers with him, and lay on the floor for a little while, not willing to get out of the warm covers just yet. Eventually, he crawled out of the covers, and put on his Hogwarts uniform, not having anything but that to wear, and pulled out a random book, before looking at the cover. One Thousand Herbs and Fungi. Wonderful. He sighed, but realizing that he'd have to use it eventually, he started to read it.
Snape came at the same time that he had come the day before, at around three thirty, and greatly surprised Harry who was at the time reading about the many wonders of Carniflora, created by some distant relative of his while trying to see what would happen if he conjured a tiger and a tiger lily into the same space. Needless to say, it was only assumed that he had created it, as it is entirely possible that it had merely already been there, created by someone else, as all that was found of poor William Potter was a knobby kneecap. "When did you get here, Professor?"
"Several minutes ago, Mr. Potter. But as you're so engrossed in your book. . . ." Snape's voice began to trail off, sadly.
"I- wait- no. Professor, I can read that later." Harry quickly dog-eared the page, and closed the book, turning to face Snape.
Snape smirked again, and pulled out an old piece of paper, slightly yellowed around the edges, and held it in front of his face for a few seconds, before putting it back in his bag. "I've found the picture, and after, and only after you've proved to my satisfaction that you've read the papers I gave you well, can you look at it."
Harry nodded happily, and quickly began to explain to Snape exactly how he was going to write this paper, and how he was sure that he had all of the best points, and what those points were, before Snape finally stopped him, and told him to write an outline. "Write down your thesis statement, and then write three topic sentences. Underneath those topic sentences, write three specific examples for each."
Harry set to it, scribbling words madly, but grimaced after he got to his last topic. "Professor, I can't think of any specific examples beyond that magical signatures are too complex to keep everyone's magical signature on record, and that schools have to log where their muggleborn students live with the Ministry, and during what seasons they should be home."
Professor Snape looked at Harry with a somewhat disappointed look. Think, Potter. How do you know that it's only for muggleborns? Was there... a case maybe?"
A look of comprehension dawned on Harry's face, and he flushed with embarrassment. "Of course, the muggle attorney, Stephan v. Bureau of Illegal Spellwork." He quickly added it to the paper, before handing it to Snape for inspection. Snape quickly read over Harry's somewhat messy handwriting, before handing it back, and nodding. "Good work, Mr. Potter. If your essay is this good, I think that I'd have to give you an O, given the limited materials you're working with."
Harry flushed with pride, and then said, "Well then, will you please lemme see them?" He asked eagerly.
Snape's seemed to almost grin, before wiping his face of emotion, and carefully putting the picture on the table, and taking out his wand. "They're probably hiding, so I'll have to shove over the other people who're blocking their faces. Don't worry, this won't hurt them." He delicately pushed his wand into the picture, and suddenly, there was a floating tree in the picture, and people were fleeing one way and another, to the skirts of the picture. Snape grimaced, and removed his wand, before trying it again. It failed once more, but he set his jaw, and resolutely kept on poking it, until he exclaimed, "Ah! I think I must've seen them. Look closely now, Mr. Potter."
Harry peered intently at the picture as the Professor poked it with his wand. That flash of wavy hair. Was that her? No, he would've said. He stared so hard that his eyes began to hurt, and he blinked very quickly several times after realizing that he hadn't blinked for at least thirty seconds.
Suddenly, just as his eyes were beginning to water again, Snape whispered in his ear, "There," and Harry saw. With black curly hair, just like his, James Potter was sprinting as quickly as possible to the other side of the picture, without looking to either side, quickly followed by Lily Potter, nee Evans, who followed him to the huddle of people on the other side of the photo. Harry was disappointed to realize that all he could really see of either of them were well made black robes, and their hair, and was about to turn away, when Lily suddenly stuck her face out of the huddle. He gazed at her deep green eyes, her aquiline nose, and slightly cleft chin, and was amazed by how strikingly attractive she must've been in life, before she winked at him, and he promptly fainted.
He slowly came to, to the sweet sound of, "Bloody hell, wake up, Potter! Damn." Snape managed to put enough venom and irritation in the word to make it sound as if it were a much worse word, and Harry laughed, albeit weakly. He wondered why he was on the floor, and feeling himself regaining energy, he managed to push himself up, a little. "You're awake!" Snape exclaimed, clearly relieved. "Did you experience EME again? I though I had leech proofed the photo, but I guess not. . . ." Snape worried.
"Don't worry professor, it wasn't painful. It was just that one second, I saw Lily, and then I was on the floor, feeling a little weak." He struggled to his feet, and then had to sit in a chair quickly, so that he didn't fall to the floor. He fell onto the table, still rather surprised with how weak he was feeling, before instantly noticing what was missing. "Where's the photo, Professor?" he panted.
"I have put it back into my bag. I didn't think it safe for it to be close to you until after you had gotten over your EME. . . . Although you say that it wasn't painful, so perhaps there was a curse on the photo for specific people. Hmm. I'll have to look into it, check the various spells on it to see if there's anything unusual . . . it didn't have any effect on you until after a few seconds, right?" Snape thought out loud.
"Er, no," Harry replied. "Not until after Lily winked at us."
Snape frowned, and thought for a while. "I don't think that photos do that very often. I'll see if there's a curse attached to her in the photo. Anyways, in the interim, I don't think that you should come in contact with it."
Harry nodded, albeit reluctantly, and sighed. "I wish I had gotten to see them a little more . . . but this is for the best, right?" Snape nodded slowly, and Harry sighed again.
"Well, in other news, I got you a book on combining magic. Hmm . . . Why Anyone Would Ever Possibly Wish To Combine Spells and How, by Rayliam Black-Morrison. And . . . some more theory on Arithmancy." Snape set the books on the table, and Harry, feeling like he had gathered most of his strength back, picked up the books and set them on the book shelf.
"Sorry Professor, but I feel the most interested in Charms right now." Harry smiled a kind of lilting smile that Snape hadn't seen before. He suspected that this was Harry at his cheekiest.
Snape arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.
Over the next week, Harry grew increasingly cheeky, and increasingly interested in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. This was somewhat puzzling to Snape, who speculated that it might have had something to do with the fainting spell, but couldn't find any malicious spells on the photograph whatsoever. Eventually, he just decided that it must be because Harry was getting used to a non-abusive environment, and that if he hadn't been submitted to that, he would have been like this the whole time. He wasn't unpleasant at all, and still very intelligent, very polite, and very hard working, perhaps even a little less of a procrastinator than before.
"Please, Professor Snape. I believe that my legs are beginning to atrophy! Just a little, up and down the stairs." Snape grimaced, and wished that he was anywhere other than here for the moment. Not so much because the 'New Harry's' company was so abhorrent, but because stronger men would've cringed if they could hear him whining for hours on end.
"Bloody hell Potter, okay. Just give me a few minutes to make sure everything is leech proof–"
"Professor, I thought you said that items only borrowed magic at midnight," Harry interrupted.
"Typically. Typically. Better safe than sorry. Some items take magic randomly. Now shut up and read a book or something," Snape ordered. Harry happily obeyed, glad that he had won the battle.
Several minutes later, Snape walked back in, significantly more sedately than he had left, and beckoned for Harry to walk outside the room, to a long carpeted hallway. "There are some stairs to your right," he said as he pointed towards them. "You will run up and down them as many times as you can until you are completely tired out, at which point you will run up and down them one more time, before you return. Do not get off at any of the other landings. If you encounter another patron, keep to the left, and do not draw attention to yourself." He seemed to grow a little taller as he began his last words, as if to impress upon Harry the importance of his words, "It would not do well if one of the old supporters of the Dark Lord were to realize that his defeater was without any sort of magic."
Harry nodded, a little scared, although also a little rebellious. "Why do you have to phrase everything as an order?"
"How else would I phrase it, Potter?" Snape asked. His voice seemed to have an edge to it, but Harry ignored it.
"Er... a little nicer, perhaps, Professor." Harry replied, brightly.
"No."
"I- er. Ah. Okay. I'll just be going now, eh?" Harry said gamely, quite obviously trying to get away from the tension that Snape's monosyllabic response had instantly created in the room.
"Yes."
"Er, right." he began to quickly edge towards the stairs, futilely trying to redirect Snape's stare. "Sir. Right, sir. I mean." He reached the stairs, and just began to run up and down, trying to put the simple, yet unnerving conversation out of mind.
Snape just relaxed in the room for a while, sure that Harry wouldn't disobey him. He supposed that he wasn't that bad a kid, for all that he was spawn of Potter, and that he was raised by abominable muggles. He grinned. "Nature versus nurture, my arse," he muttered. Although that did raise the question of how he became such a not-bastard. But that was a question for another time– Harry had been out there for a while, and Snape had might as well check up on him.
He walked down the carpeted hall, almost wishing that he was a child, so that he could throw off his shoes and let his toes relish the inch-thick, sweet softness of the carpet. This place was a pretty nice hotel, after all. However, he reminded himself, he wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. He was teaching there, and he had been for eleven years. He briefly wondered what it would be like to teach Harry, hypothetically, if he decided to take the potions NEWT course. Of course, all of this was banished from his mind, as he turned to the staircase, and saw a sweaty and nasty Harry Potter, jogging up the stairs, for all the world as if it was the hardest thing he had ever done. He looked at his watch, realized that twenty minutes had passed since he had given his order, and then shortly afterwards, realized that Harry must've followed his instructions, word for word.
He came dangerously close to twitching in irritation, but didn't, because Snapes don't twitch.
As Harry came puffing up the stairs, Snape didn't move, so that Harry wouldn't be able to pass by him, and glared at the top of Harry's head. When Harry finally got to the top of the stairs, he abruptly noticed Snape's robes, and looked up at Snape's face, looking genuinely happy. "Professor! I ran up and down for a while, before I was completely tired out, and then I remembered what you had said at the end, so I got up again and ran up and down a fifteenth time!"
Snape glared back at Harry's smiling face. "I didn't think that you'd actually drive yourself to the point of exhaustion, especially while you were still affected by EME. Haven't you noticed how you've had to get more sleep in the past week?"
Harry scratched the back of his head, and his smile fading, he defensively began to babble. "I, er, well, I've run a lot more than just this, from while I was running away from my cousin and his friends, and besides, I haven't really noticed being tired after the first–" Harry's ramble was instantly cut off, when he tried to step back from Snape, forgetting that there wasn't anything for him to stand on there. "Oh, cra–"
Snape quickly tried to grab Harry, to keep him from falling, but it was in vain. Harry tumbled backwards, head over heels, down what seemed to be an invisible ramp, right above the stairs, until he was safely transported to the cushy landing below.
Snape, stunned, didn't say anything, his body deciding for him, to simply gape. Harry, similarly affect, decided to just lie there. Finally, Snape snapped out of it. "Mr. Potter, you seem to be a medical marvel. Did you know that no one, in documented history, has ever recovered from EME before two weeks? That was regarded as one of the fundamental rules of healing. Two weeks of EME, then you're good." He looked down at Harry suspiciously, before asking, "Are you using a time turner?"
"A what?" Harry asked in return.
Snape shook his head, and put out a foot, to make sure that the ramp was gone, before walking down the stairs to Harry as serenely as possible.
"Come, Potter, you never mention this, I never mention this, and millions of textbooks don't have to be rewritten. Just remember that you can do magic after you stop feeling exhausted, and don't let on that you're special in any way, shape or form, Mr. Potter."
Harry arched an eyebrow, and asked, quite simply, "Why?"
"Use your head, Potter. Which you could lose if you don't think of the ramifications of drawing attention to yourself," Snape sneered.
"I . . . what?" Harry exclaimed, as if it had taken a few seconds for what Snape had said to sink into his mind.
"Your few enemies who know who you are let you live for now, because they figure that your defeat of the Dark Lord was pure luck. If suddenly, they see in the Prophet, 'Medical Marvel, Boy-Who-Lived', that's what they'd call you, you know, they're going to wonder if maybe they should dispose of you." As he was saying this, Snape began to pace, back and forth, on the landing. "No one could possibly realize anything, unless they had aural and visual spying devices, and since those are completely different areas of expertise, that's doubtful." Suddenly, Snape spun towards Harry, and nodded decisively. "We're going back to the room. I can teach you a few spells, now that your EME has passed, and you know some basic theory. It's no use worrying about that crap right now." Snape's lips curled into an almost-smile, and began to walk up the stairs. Harry, apparently getting his second wind, swiftly followed.
Once they had returned to their room, Snape waved his wand around, in a circle in the air, and all of the glistening leech-proofing disappeared. To Harry's stunned expression, he simply replied, "Destruction is much easier than creation." He then gestured towards the door, which slammed itself shut, slightly startling Harry. He then reached into his right sleeve with his left hand, and withdrew the bag that Harry had seen before, before loosening the drawstrings, and pulling out Harry's wand. Harry, almost reverently, took the wand from Snape, and then just stood there, holding it. After a couple of seconds, he began to feel kind of stupid, but Snape saved him from embarrassment by beginning to do something peculiar with his wand.
"I believe that you muggles have a nursery rhyme. You might be familiar with it. It goes like this." Snape muttered a spell, and began to draw green letters in the air with the tip of his wand, until a sentence was spelled out. It read, in eerie floating green letters, 'Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick.' "Do you understand?" Snape asked.
"Understand what?" Harry answered.
"The incantation for the dancing fire charm, of course," Snape replied impatiently.
Harry perked up at the sound of this, because he had read a little about the great use it had in controlling various species of darkness loving fauna. He looked at it intently for a couple of seconds, before exclaiming, "Jack! It's Jack!"
Snape curled up the edges of his lips again, before slashing diagonally down to his right with his wand. Harry watched in awe as the C's in Jack disappeared, leaving each one as Jak. "Correct. This is how the wizarding version goes. Now do you remember standard procedure for figuring out what the wand movement of a spell is?"
"Yeah, I just need to think of how they would've done fire when this spell was made. Er... and this rhyme is pretty old, I guess?" Harry queried.
"Yes. It dates back hundreds of years," Snape answered.
"Then . . . flint and steel, or a torch," Harry stated.
"Very good, Mr. Potter. Can you decide which would work best for this spell?" Snape prompted.
Harry pondered it for a second, before shaking his head no.
"Well, put it this way. If you wanted a flame that wasn't going to be touching you, then what would you use?" Snape gave a hint, reminding himself that Harry was still young.
"Flint and steel, of course!" Harry exclaimed. Snape nodded, and Harry thought of fire, of its many layers, of its uncontrollable, incorrigible dancing. He thought of all of this, said, "Jak," firmly, and poked his wand forward, imagining as if he were using flint and steel. Nothing happened.
"Did you remember the cleansing property of fire? And throw in a memory of any dancers you've ever seen. That might help too," Snape remarked.
Harry nodded, and tried again, this time remembering how cleansing fire could be, of how wonderful it felt to toss his castoff hand-me-downs from Dudley into the fire. 'Jak' sprang to life, and Harry grinned as he controlled it with clumsy wand movements. Snape nodded, approvingly, before setting his jaw, and casting the dancing fire charm himself. His, however, was a much larger ball of fire than Harry's, and he directed it with deft and practiced wand movements towards Harry's, where it easily consumed the fire, stealing away Harry's ball.
"Hey," Harry exclaimed. "That's not fair!"
Snape nodded, before dispelling his own charm. "No, it's not. But you're going to learn how to do that too. See, here's how you make it larger, and the reason that your ball is moving so slowly is because your movements are clumsy and indecisive. Fire needs to be. . . ."
Harry began to feel himself getting lost in the learning, and grinned, glad to finally be learning magic. It truly was going to be excellent to be a wizard.
A/N: Holy crap. This should've been up around two months ago. Sorry guys. I promised myself and everyone else that I'd have an update up every week, but I was just lying. I'm really sorry. I'll try to do better next time (I've completely cut myself off from three crappy rpgs that I got involved in) but no promises, now. Whew. What a monstrosity. This isn't very long for a lot of writers, but for me, it's twelve pages in wordperfect.