Chapter 9

"Stay behind, Lord Potter," said Snape, after a moderately stress-free potions lesson. Harry lingered.

"Can you really remove the dark mark?" asked Snape.

"Yes," said Harry. "I took Regulus's off so it's proven it can be done, while I was healing him out of stasis, oh nuts, nobody told you Reg is alive, did they?"

Snape shut his eyes and counted to ten, audibly.

"No, Mr... Lord Potter, nobody told me that. I take it that he also wished to leave the Dark Lord's service?"

"He was mortally wounded trying to destroy one of Riddle's horcruces, and... I'm making a mess of bringing you up to speed, aren't I?"

"About as much as when you write an essay," said Snape, waspishly. "Most of which I would describe as works of illiterature, were not those returned by Messers Weasley, Crabbe and Goyle so far beyond illiterate as to redefine the term."

"Er, well, yes, Riddle made horcruces, and one of them was in my scar, and I should do better work this year because getting it out means that I can think more clearly, and I can read the blackboard, but I... you... I get tonguetied because we don't have a good track record."

"What, surely not claiming to be intimidated by my manner, when you give as good as you get?" sneered Snape.

"I can do confrontational as a defence, but I find talking about serious matters difficult, all right?" snapped Harry. "Yes, I can take the mark off, using parselmagic, and free you from it, and if you tell me the headmaster needs you as a spy, well, let him go fish up a tree, because risking a powerful wizard for snippets of information is a bloody silly waste of resources when there are better ways of defeating him than stunning all his death eaters and then getting good people killed when they revive each other."

Snape untangled the uncertain pronouns. Teenagers!

"I hate to have to agree with you on that, if I understood you to mean that the death eaters revive each other; your pronoun use is woolly. But you think you can do better than the headmaster?"

"Now all but one of Riddle's soul anchors is destroyed, yes," said Harry. "It involves a heavy ritual at Solstice to get things going. But I wasn't planning on messing about with stunners when we are ready to move. Do you want to deal with him properly under the Black banner, or fart about being disrespected by Dumbledore and Riddle alike, distrusted by both sides, with nothing to show for it but an ever decreasing ability to brew as the cruciatus shakes get worse?"

"Well, you can be eloquent if you care enough, disregarding the odd crudity like 'fart about.' I want rid of the mark. I don't think what I get from spying is sufficiently useful."

"Saturday, then," said Harry.

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Harry was not expecting to run into Luna Lovegood.

"Hamilcar Potter-Black, you should consider that any ritual performed in Hogwarts will be amplified," said Luna, seriously. "And you should consider using Slytherin's ritual chamber behind the basilisk lair."

"He has a ritual chamber? How do you know?" asked Harry.

Luna frowned slightly.

"Because you needed me to know?" she said.

She was without shoes again.

Harry glared at her feet.

"Aslan," he called forth his patronus. "Go to the Ravenclaw common room. Growl a lot. Tell them, This is your final warning to stop stealing Luna's things. Give them all back or you will face consequences."

Aslan bounded off, lighting the passageways with his presence.

"You don't have to do that, Hamilcar Potter-Black," said Luna.

"Yes, Luna, I do," said Harry. "I wish you will call me Harry."

"All right, Harry, as you have asked me," said Luna.

"If all your things are not waiting for you when you get back to your room, call Dobby. He will collect what is missing," said Harry.

"This must be a bit like having friends," said Luna.

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Arthur Weasley was at work when Ted Tonks walked up to him and passed him a document.

"What's this?" said Arthur.

"You've been served," said Ted. "Your wife just called the heiress of a house of higher status than yours a trollop, in public, and said that she opened her legs for another heir but wasn't good enough to marry him."

Arthur winced.

"I can't see why she should do so," he said.

"Because she's dead set on your youngest daughter marrying Lord Potter, and disapproves of Lady Dagworth-Granger who is his fiancée," said Ted, grimly. "Because it was believed that the heiress was new magic – and if you ask me there's no such thing - people like you disrespect her and her family and treat her like a second-class citizen."

"Miss Granger," said Arthur, shutting his eyes. "How was I to know that muggles had rituals of etiquette? It was enough of a revelation to know that some of them can read."

"Arthur Weasley, most muggles learn to read, some before they go to school, the rest in the kindergarten at school between the ages of five and seven," said Ted. "Magic and intelligence are independent. Magic and cultural attainment are independent. If you're our greatest muggle expert, it's no wonder that the muggleborn leave our world in droves, sick of being treated like rather stupid pets. Purebloods have no sense at all. Now, Lord Potter sent a personal rebuke to your wife, but Lady Dagworth-Granger wants a written retraction in the Daily Prophet tomorrow, and you'd better see that she gets it. With the behaviour of your youngest son, Lord Potter is just this much from calling a blood feud on your family."

"Oh dear," said Arthur. "I'd better go home and see what Molly has been up to."

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He was in time to see Molly emerging from the pond where the huge golden lion watched her impassively.

"That's it, Harry Potter will be getting so many howlers from me for this!" screeched Molly.

"No, he won't, Mollywobbles," said Arthur, firmly, coming up to hustle her inside. "No more howlers. He is within his rights to choose whoever he wants to marry..."

"But she's a mudblood, and so was his mother, it will dilute the blood..."

"Molly, he is heir to House Slytherin through his mother," said Arthur. "And Miss Granger is Lady Dagworth-Granger, and an heir of House Black. She made a fool of Lucius Malfoy in the Wizengamot, and she's a potentially formidable politician. You will write a retraction of what you wrote in your howler, and we will have it on the front page of the Prophet if you don't want us to be ruined. I've been served with a notice of reparation by her lawyer."

"But Arthur! She must be potioning Harry, why else would he want to marry an ugly creature like her when he could have Ginny?" demanded Molly.

"Ugly? The girl is lovely! Do you need an eye check?" said Arthur.

"Arthur! Has she potioned you too? Oh, I am going to make her pay..."

"SIT DOWN," said Arthur. He exerted his power as head of the family. "I think you need help, Molly. I don't desire the girl, which I would if I had been potioned. I can notice in abstract that she is very pretty. I don't think Harry has any desire to indulge in anything so Oedipal as to have a girlfriend who bears, as you have often said, a passing resemblance to his mother. Good grief! Would you expect Ronald to want a girlfriend who looks like you?"

"But Harry doesn't remember his mother."

"That's not the point," said Arthur. "You will apologise for your howler, and we will take a little trip to St. Mungo's and see what makes you behave so extraordinarily."

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The morning's Daily Prophet included an abject apology – Arthur had drafted it when he had finally persuaded Molly to explain exactly what she had said – in which Molly retracted everything she had said, and explained that she had been working under an unclear understanding of the facts, and false reporting.

This covered the fact that Molly was not only suffering from what muggles call 'PTSD' over the loss of her brothers and pathological need to control her own children as a result, but also was found to be subject to a number of memory-tampering charms and compulsions.

Arthur wrote a private apology and explanation to Hermione, who showed it to Harry.

"As I've put Ginny under geas to seek mind-healer help, I think I should pay for her and Molly both," said Harry. "I can't stand Ron any more, but I had a letter from Padfoot, that he's persuaded Percy to be his secretary, and I have no beef with Bill or Charlie, and the twins have been trying very hard."

"The twins are always trying, leave it at that," said Hermione.

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On Saturday, Harry and Hermione went to Snape's office.

"I'd like to floo to Padfoot's place, please, sir," said Harry. "I want a bit of backup in case anything goes wrong, not that it should, but it's what adults are supposed to be for. And we thought you'd like to catch up with Reg as well; Padfoot says he was a friend of yours, and you're the two death eaters who turned away."

"I suppose Karkaroff..."

"Karkaroff saved his own skin, but Padfoot wrote to him to ask if he would like the mark removed. Only we didn't mention that his removal might be furthering other plans because he's someone with the mark we don't really mind losing."

"Oh. You worked out that you can attack the Dark Lord through it?" said Snape. "I'm happy to be a sacrifice to that end, you know."

"Yes, but you are on our side, even if we don't get on," said Harry. "Though I'm inclined to think that at least half of your dislike for me was caused by the horcrux in my head. Every horcrux I've seen has belittled those trying to kill it, and your dark mark would have activated it. I bet every time you saw me, you heard the Marauders taunting you; and I've heard some stories and they were way out of line, but if the other horcruces are anything to go on, the level of taunting you could almost hear was exaggerated."

"Merlin's hairy bollocks!" said Snape, uncharacteristically. "I... Potter, this year, the hatred hasn't welled up when I look at you. I think you might just be correct."

"By the law of averages, it has to happen sometimes, and I got to say it before you did," said Harry.

Snape gave a grim smile.

"Well, it's a basis to work on as allies," he said.

They took the floo to Grimmauld Place, and Severus was hugged by Regulus.

"Sev, mate! You should see this kid go with parseltongue!"

"Which reminds me, a strange girl called Luna Lovegood told me we should do the solstice ritual in Salazar Slytherin's ritual room behind the basilisk chamber," said Harry.

"There really was a basilisk then? I told Dumbledore what I thought it was, and he said it was nothing of the sort," said Severus.

"Oh, there was a basilisk," said Harry. "I wonder if the carcass is still good? Are they useful for anything?"

"A vast amount," said Snape. "I would be interested to see it."

"Oh, well, we can go there when we get back into school," said Harry. "It's needed for the big ritual, but our own one in the basement is fine for removing the dark mark."

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Snape changed into a ritual robe, sleeveless and white, having bathed. Cor helped him with his hair.

"Professor Snape should use strawberries in his shampoo," said Cor, firmly.

"You look familiar, but I don't even know any high elves," said Snape.

"I was once Kreacher, a house elf. Mister Harry freed us from the curse," said Cor. "I am Cor now."

"He has been busy," said Snape.

He was surprised that the comment was not as venomous as he had intended.

And then Harry was hissing like a demented tea kettle over his arm, and something black and slimy was being pulled out, and pain wracked Snape's body, as the tendril of evil was torn from his very core. He grunted in pain.

"He's too used to the cruciatus," said Regulus, critically. "I remember what that felt like, and I screamed like a little girl. It's a bit like the feeling when you have a stuffed up nose and you pull out one of those bogeys which has its back end right up in your sinuses, only this is if the bogey was being pulled out of your heart."

"Graphic," said Sirius, with a shudder.

"Accurate," groaned Severus Snape. He looked down at his smooth forearm, and started laughing in joy and relief. Sirius had never heard him laugh in any way that could not be described as an evil snigger, and stared.

"Oh, this is ridiculous, I feel so light and laid back, I feel as if I were drunk," said Snape.

"Good. Now you'll be able to think clearly as well, as I can with that damned thing out of my head," said Harry.

"Careful, Potter-Black. I might just have an urge to embrace you in gratitude, and that would be bad for my reputation," sniped Snape.

"Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid we'd lost the snippy potions master some of us love to listen to in full flow," said Hermione. "Eep!" she said as she realised her own temerity.

"I will remain, Miss Dagworth-Granger, the paradigm of prolixity in punishing perpetrators for their perfidies," said Snape.

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OMAKE from Ausar the Vile

"Wait, is that true? Your mum wants to force marriage Potter to your GINGER TROLLOP sister?!"

"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH! HOW DARE YOU CALLING MY SISTER LIKE THAT!" Ron screamed.

"I dated her once, and I can say that your sister was really good with her mouth." Dean shrugged.

"Oh hey, I slept with her once!" Michael Corner raised his hands. "She's definitely not so innocent!"

"Hey! I slept with her too!" another voice piped up.

If it's possible Ron's face turns to different shades of purple as over 20 male students from each Houses (omg!) confessed about his sister's 'prowess' in bed, while Ginny sobbed into her hands as the rest of the other students glared toward the youngest Weasleys.

OMAKE/missing scene requested by several people re Molly vs the lion.

Molly Weasley was working contentedly on a potion, which would bring Harry Potter to his senses. He needed to have his perspective corrected into realising that Ginny was his one true love. It was sad that poor Ginny would not have much time of wedded bliss, since Albus had confided that Harry would have to die against You-Know-Who in order to fulfil a prophesy, but she would be amply compensated as a rich widow. And the Potter line must be continued, and Albus had chosen Ginny to continue it. Well, Molly had told Harry off, next she would show her forgiveness by sending him a load of fairy cakes, well laced with amortentia.

She was just contemplating this when the door banged open and a huge golden lion pounced into the kitchen, swiping the cauldron of amortentia with an outsize paw. Molly was barely able to leap away from the scalding contents.

Forgetting it was a lion she shrieked shrilly, "Look what you have done, you clumsy animal!"

The Lion looked at her and spoke. It had Harry Potter's voice. "If you think that you can get away with publicly slandering the houses of Black, Potter, and Dagworth-Granger, Mrs Weasley, you are entirely mistaken." The lion then snarled and advanced on Molly, who batted at it, ineffectually. Her wand was on the kitchen top where she had been using it to slice ingredients.

"Shoo! Shoo!" Molly tried, flapping ineffectually. "You're a patronus, you can't do anything," she added as her brain added up how it was sending a message.

One gigantic paw swiped her sideways so she fell; then she felt hot breath on her neck as she was picked up by the scruff, like a rat, the wickedly sharp teeth just grazing her neck enough for her to be aware that 'corporeal' for Harry Potter meant 'fully and solidly corporeal' not just an apparent animal. She whimpered as she was dragged outside, down the yard past several cheering garden gnomes [where had they got popcorn from?] and across the quidditch field to the grove of trees once used for ritual, now sadly neglected by the blood traitor family. And thence to the pond, where, with a convulsive heave, Molly found herself flying - briefly - through mid air, before splashing down on her first ballistic flight into the rather muddy pond.

It was very cold.