Disclaimer: Nope. Absolutely not.
Author's Note: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I'm really glad you liked the scene with James and Lily. I honestly love writing scenes like that. As far as Severus and Lily interacting ... well, you never know.
I'm also glad you liked the conversation between Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I honestly think Harry's near-death experiences actually affect him. He's expected to bounce back from all of them, but he's a human being. It's not easy for him to face death all the time and not be affected by it.
Anyway, just to warn you, everything is starting to ramp up. With my wedding being on May 13, last-minute preparations are under way, and I'm getting ready for my English family to arrive. I'm hoping to get another chapter out after this one, but I'm not sure I'll be able to. Please forgive me if I don't. If that is the case and May 13 happens before another chapter is out, I promise I'll get back to it as soon as I can. I love writing this story, and you'll definitely see more chapters from me.
Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this one.
xxxxxxxxxx
Severus scowled as he left the dungeons and made his way to the boys' bathroom. He certainly wasn't looking forward to supervising a detention that involved Draco and Weasley. He wasn't prepared for the childish insults that would undoubtedly come out of both of their mouths.
The damned Headmaster had summoned him to his office and told him exactly what had happened. A duel in the boys' bathroom. How completely infantile. Merlin, he despised how Hogwarts was more of a zoo than a school at times. Magic in the corridors was strictly prohibited, but since when did the students pay any attention to rules?
As he traversed the corridors, Snape pondered the significance of the current events. To hear that Weasley had caught Draco being sick in the bathroom was an interesting development. He hadn't seen the boy at all yesterday, since he had been busy making sure that Potter survived yet another life-threatening encounter. He was completely exhausted - he felt like he had been drained of all emotion. The strange conversation he'd had with the boy in the early hours of this morning felt surreal to him. Had it all actually happened?
And now, Draco was on his mind. Today, he had observed how many of the students looked at him, even members of his own house. They all thought Draco had done it. Merlin, they were all such simpletons, and he loathed saying that about anyone in his house. But it was true - none of them looked past the surface to discover who was the real culprit.
Snape was positive it hadn't been Draco. Whoever had done it was an unknown, and it had Snape on edge. He had failed to act in time to stop the poisoning from happening, but he was now determined to find out who had performed such a deed. He wasn't a spy for nothing, after all, even though he felt like he'd been failing spectacularly in that area.
But why had Draco been sick in the bathroom? Snape thought he knew the reason why, but tonight, he would observe the boy carefully. Weasley didn't need observing - subtlety was not at all his strength. Dumbledore had told him, though, that Weasley had actually known he was wrong to suspect Draco. All of his body language suggested it. He'd even admitted to "letting Harry down", as it were.
That was another thing. Potter did not think Draco had been the one to poison him. Things had definitely changed. Snape remembered all too well the suspicious looks the boy had kept giving him all through first year, and after what had happened with the Philosopher's Stone, it didn't take a genius to figure out why. He recalled when the looks had started - it had been the week after Halloween, when Potter thought it his business to poke his nose into other people's affairs. That day, Snape had confiscated Quidditch Through the Ages from Potter, sneering disgustedly at it. Potter was just like his father, he remembered thinking, snarling at the reminders. Of course Potter Jr. would rather be messing around on his broomstick than learning to brew potions. Snape had taken the utmost pleasure in snatching the book from the stupid little whelp.
The next time he'd seen the boy, he'd been outside the staffroom. Probably wanting to get his book back, he'd thought, a malicious smirk on his face. And of course it had to be at the exact time that Argus Filch was helping him bandage the wound he'd received from Hagrid's bloody mongrel. Fluffy. What an inane, ridiculous name. Quirrell had been trying to get at the Stone, and Snape was bound and determined to stop him, at all costs.
And Potter had had to see it. Doubtless he and his little friends would endlessly talk about the mystery surrounding Snape's bite, like it was any of their business. And then, curse Merlin, the next day had been that disastrous Quidditch incident when Quirrell had tried to curse Potter's broomstick, and Snape had managed to counter it. And it was then that the suspicious looks started in earnest, and continued for the rest of the year.
"I want Granger expelled," he'd snarled viciously at Dumbledore later that day, knowing very well that the stupid little girl had set his robes on fire. "I attempt to save that ridiculous boy, and Granger decides to burn my robes to cinders?"
"You know very well why she did it, Severus," Dumbledore had said in that calm tone that always made Snape want to curse him. "I am not saying it was right for her to do so. But she thinks she is protecting her friend."
Snape had left Dumbledore's office that day, wholly unsatisfied. Of course Potter's friend would get off scott-free for doing what she had done. And the looks of suspicion from the trio had only intensified after that, with Potter's glares being especially venomous. Just like his father, Snape thought every time it happened, his anger towards the boy filling up every crevice of his body.
But now, things were changing. Potter had explicitly told Weasley not to accuse Draco of being the one to poison him, when their enmity was legendary around Hogwarts. And Draco's behavior had been suspect lately - he'd been twitchy and anxious, and his fellow classmates had noticed. But Severus did not think any of it was due to a guilty conscience. Ever since the moment he'd found out that Crouch, not Moody, had been the one to transform him into a ferret and injure him, he'd been different. And that Potions project where Snape had forced him and Potter to work together ... it only made the change more noticeable.
When he arrived at the boys' bathroom, he saw both Weasley and Draco standing outside, waiting for him. Both were stonily silent, although Draco kept shooting Weasley glares. Weasley was glaring back, but it was half-hearted at best. Snape was honestly surprised that they had not begun to insult each other. His impression of Weasley was that he would say something vile to Draco the moment he opened his mouth, but the redheaded boy was just standing there, looking sulky.
Snape had to tread carefully here. The familiar frustration over his spying situation bubbled up inside him as he looked at the two boys. It used to be that he had no problem chastising Weasley for the littlest thing while he left Draco alone. Weasley was brash, obtuse, pigheaded, and couldn't see past the end of his own nose - that impression had not changed over the years. Weasley never lost an opportunity to land verbal attacks on his Slytherins, and to target Draco in particular.
But if Dumbledore was to be believed, Draco had been the aggressor this time. But wasn't it true that the Headmaster always thought the Slytherin was the one to start anything in a situation like this? After all, the bloody Marauders had gotten away with, literally, attempted murder while Snape was silenced and sworn to secrecy. Whenever he thought of that incident, his rage spiked anew. Why should he believe the old man when he explained that Draco had been the one to raise his wand to Weasley first?
But you know Draco, that cursed voice in his head said. You know how brash he can be as well. After all, you did tell him he has no subtlety. And didn't Crouch show you that he was the one to attack Potter when he was actually walking away from, not towards, a confrontation?
And so it was that for the first time, he didn't quite know how to approach this situation. Both boys looked exhausted, and Draco was pale. It was obvious he was still feeling under the weather. Weasley, too, was looking subdued, and Snape could guess that this was due to worry over Potter. Snape squashed down the guilt that instantly rose at the thought of the boy lying in the hospital wing, still racked with pain and fever.
"You should know that I had better things to do with my time this evening," Snape snapped, the words completely true as he allowed some of his frustration to be let loose. "What an utterly ridiculous state of affairs. Destroying the boys' bathroom with your complete lack of finnesse. I expected such a thing of you, Weasley," he sneered, maintaining the status quo. Weasley had already been giving him strange looks - he could not afford to receive any more. "The fact that you partook in such a display does not surprise me. But from you, Draco? I was positive that you knew better. I am very disappointed in your conduct."
Weasley glowered at Snape, his face turning red, but he said nothing. Draco's face twisted into a snarl, his expression even more venomous than Weasley's. "Well, Professor, you might want to tell Weasley that I do not appreciate being walked in on when I'm using the facilities," he drawled.
Snape recognized the defensive posture immediately. Draco was overcompensating, and doing it to an enormous extent. Something was eating at him, and this was the way he knew how to cope. This was exactly what Snape had been noticing about his student for quite a while now.
"Do not talk back to me, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said quietly, resorting to Draco's last name. "Now, you will enter this bathroom and clean up the mess you both made."
"How are we supposed to do that, sir?" Draco asked belligerently. "The whole thing's been destroyed. Weasley obliterated the whole thing with his crude spellwork."
Weasley finally reacted. "I did not!" he shouted indignantly. "You did as much damage as me, Malfoy, and don't pretend otherwise!"
"That is quite enough," Snape growled. "If I hear one more word from either of you, you will not like the consequences."
Weasley flushed, as did Draco. Snape sighed inaudibly, the little patience he had managed to dredge up diminishing by the second. All he wanted to do was disappear into his dungeons and get lost in one of his potions tomes, not babysit two boys who thought there was nothing better to do than duel one another in the middle of a bathroom.
But, knowing there was no way out of this, Snape opened the door, and the two boys reluctantly walked inside. Snape felt his temper rising as he studied the bathroom - he hadn't seen the destruction until now, and it was just as bad as he'd imagined. With a malicious sneer on his face, he couldn't help but castigate the two boys all over again at the sight before him.
"You are very lucky," he snarled, "that neither of you is being expelled. You are fortunate to be enrolled in this prestigious institution. I am deeply ashamed at your behavior," he said, staring at Weasley in particular, because the redhead would expect that of him.
Draco smirked. "Do you hear that, Weasley? You're lucky to be enrolled here. You shouldn't take such a thing for granted, you know."
It was all Snape could do not to hiss at the comment - he knew precisely what Draco was making a veiled reference to - the Weasleys' poverty. The redhead knew it, too, for he gave the blond an intense look of fury. "Shut up, Malfoy," he snarled.
"Be quiet, both of you," Snape said in a low hiss, anger pounding through him at Draco's taunt. He was perfectly aware that this was the normal verbal diatribe Draco threw at Weasley, and he despised that it reminded him of when James Potter used to throw such mocking comments his way.
"I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."
The sudden, unwelcome voice flew through Severus's mind, and with an effort of Herculean proportions, he shut the door on it. He could not afford to think of her now. He needed to focus on supervising this ridiculous detention. And he could not continue to compare Draco to James Potter, when it had always been his blasted son he'd compared him to before.
"Now, you will repair every single stall, every single toilet, and every single sink in here," Snape commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "And do not think you can just get away with casting Reparo and be done with it. Once you have cast the necessary spells, you will clean every last stall, toilet, and sink in here. Without magic," he added in his softest, deadliest voice.
"Without magic?" Snape would have laughed at Draco's squeaky reply if he knew what humor was these days. "But Professor ..."
"Do not argue with me, Mr. Malfoy. You will do as I say," Snape snapped. "Doubtless it will take you quite a while to finish this work, and I am positive that these detentions will last for several days. Because after you have cleaned the stalls, toilets, and sinks, you will paint the walls, so this room will appear to be brand new. After all, your pathetic attempt at duelling has completely vandalized this room."
"But ..." Draco started, his eyes almost comically wide.
"Stop complaining, Malfoy. Just because you've never done a day of work in your life ..." Weasley muttered. "The sooner we get this done, the better."
Draco glared. "Fine," he said in a tone that set Snape's teeth on edge.
So, for the next few hours, Snape watched as the two boys repaired the bathroom they had messed up. It was clear that neither of them had done this kind of work before. But it was also plain that Draco was faring much worse than Weasley. The sulky, petulant expression on Draco's face struck something in him. He paid no attention to the glares the blond frequently shot at him - it was the fact that he honestly didn't know how to clean anything that was the source of Snape's discomfort.
Against his will, his mind wandered back to when he'd had Potter cleaning his cauldrons in that one particular detention where he'd discovered the secrets of the dratted Marauder's Map. He'd done it with a methodical precision that made Snape feel supremely uneasy. He hadn't complained once - there was no sulking about how nasty and mean Snape was, about how utterly unfair the task was. Potter had known exactly what he was doing - the familiarity of it struck a painful chord within him. He did not want to see the parallels he was seeing. Didn't Potter understand that it already hurt every time he looked in a damned mirror?
As the detention went on, Draco looked more and more unwell. He saw that Weasley noticed, and expected him to take advantage of the fact. But once again, Weasley surprised him by not doing so. He didn't once glare at Snape as he worked, although it was clearly apparent that he despised doing this work. Even though the two boys shot nasty looks at each other every now and then, there were no more insults exchanged.
After several hours of complete boredom, Snape had had enough. "You two are finished for this evening, although there is still plenty of work to do," he drawled. "You will come back tomorrow night, promptly at seven o'clock. Do not be late. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Draco said, his voice quiet. Snape frowned at his pallor - he was obviously in need of sleep, and a lot of it.
"Yes, Professor," Weasley said. "See you then."
Draco didn't hesitate to high-tail it out of there. Without a second glance at Snape and Weasley, he walked out of the bathroom, disappearing out of sight.
Snape expected Weasley to do the same, but the boy surprised him yet again by hanging back. "What is it, Weasley? Do you expect me to stand here all night?" Snape drawled at him. "Because, unlike you, I actually have things to do with my time."
Weasley gave Snape a small glare, but in the next moment, the expression had disappeared off his face, to be replaced with an unusually thoughtful, pensive look. "Er, Professor?" he said, his voice unsure.
"I'm waiting, Weasley," Snape said quietly, wondering what in Merlin's name the boy had to say to him.
It came out in a rush. "Thank you for saving Harry's life,, and thanks for letting us stay with him yesterday," he said quickly, as if he couldn't get the words out fast enough.
Snape stared back at him, speechless. Weasley was the last person he expected to say anything of the sort. The boy was an imbecile who didn't know how to tie his own shoes. He certainly wouldn't ever be grateful for anything Snape did. He was a brash brat who thrived on hexing first and asking questions later.
But for some reason, the normal venomous stream of thoughts didn't quite fit this time. The way Weasley was looking at him made him extremely disconcerted. This would not do. This would not do at all. He could not afford to have Ronald Weasley looking at him like this when he was meant to be a spy. Weasley was supposed to think he was the root of all evil. He wasn't supposed to change his mind about him just because Snape had stopped Potter from meeting his doom at the hands of someone who wanted the notoriety of killing the Boy Who Lived.
Weasley plowed on, unaware of the turmoil Snape was in. "I don't know why," he said, his voice growing louder. "But he sees something in you. You've been so awful to him for so long, but he sees something in you. And he's my best friend," he said, sounding almost desperate.
"You will cease this drivel at once, Weasley," Snape snarled, his own level of desperation rising. "You will return to your common room immediately."
"Yes, Professor," Weasley said, turning around and beginning to walk out of the bathroom. But then, suddenly, he turned back and said one last thing. "Don't you dare hurt him again," he said loudly, giving him the coldest glare Snape had ever received from a Weasley before turning around again and practically running out of the bathroom, away from the Potions Master.
And Snape was left there, feeling like he could collapse with the heavy weight of Weasley's words that would not stop echoing through his mind.