Title: Lusus Naturae

Chapter: Chapter Eleven

Rating: M for Malfoy

Warnings: Abuse, Death, Double Potions with the Slytherins

A/N: I'm going somewhere with this, I swear. I don't know where yet.

"We agreed," Snape hissed as they made it to their rooms. "You were to come and find me."

Harry dropped his bag on the table where they'd begun to share their meals. Eating at a conjured table in his bedroom was deemed uncouth. He settled into one of the chairs. His head was spinning.

"It happened fast," Harry mumbled.

Professor Snape seemed to notice his struggle and let out a breath to signify the passing of his ire. The wizard came to his side and helped him lift the glamoured pendant off his neck.

"How are you feeling?" Snape asked.

Harry rubbed his eyes beneath the charmed glasses and groaned. "Dizzy," he explained.

"Perhaps it's best you go lay down. Take off the glasses. I'll fetch you for lunch," Snape ordered, then added, "After I speak to the Headmaster about that mutt."

"Mutt?" Harry asked, his thoughts circling back to Professor Lupin and his suspicions.

"Man," Snape corrected himself.

The Professor excused himself and Harry took that as his invitation to leave as well. He took careful steps to the bedroom down the hall and practically collapsed on his bed.

The novelty of having his own room had yet to wear off. Laying in the silence of his private dorm he felt unsettled by it, if anything. He slid the glasses off his ears and threw them to the bedside table. Immediately the pressure building behind his eyes lessened and the room stopped spinning.

After a moment spent staring at the ceiling, Harry felt the world had righted itself enough. He got to his feet and trudged to the mirror hung over a small dresser which housed his clothes.

Without the glamour and spectacles, Harry felt more himself. The weight that normally sat on his chest - the weight of the magic over his body - was absent. He felt like he could breathe again. What he saw in the mirror was no different from what the Boggart had shown him. He didn't quite grasp the significance of it. He certainly wasn't afraid of himself.

Peering into his white-colored irises, Harry used his thumb and forefinger to spread the outer lids of his left eye. After just two attempts to separate the inner lid, he succeeded. The brilliant green of his natural eye-color below remained unchanged. He went to turn away, unimpressed with the results, and stopped suddenly when he noticed his right eye. The iris there had changed. It was dark red.

Headmaster Dumbledore watched the door of his office close with a sigh. Portraits on the wall near the door shuddered with the force of Severus Snape's dramatic exit, which was true to form. Albus' Deputy Headmistress often accused him of allowing Severus more leeway with his dramatics than the rest of his staff, but the Headmaster would never admit to it.

The two of them had finished a rather lengthy discussion that revolved around the epicenter of Albus' world as of late. Harry Potter had once again turned the tables on him. The Boggart incident - as Remus Lupin had called it in his own colorful recounting - had sent shockwaves through Hogwarts in less than an hour after the fact.

Dumbledore was understanding of Lupin's predicament. He had introduced the infamous Boggart lesson to the Defense cirriculum himself in his own tenure as Professor at Hogwarts. At the time, Europe had been under siege by an entirely different darkness. Facing one's fears had been a teachable lesson in more ways than one. This new generation was not quite cut out for it.

That the Boggart had taken the image of Voldemort for Harry Potter was disconcerting. Albus might have guessed the boy's muggle relatives or perhaps Professor Snape as the Longbottom heir had received. He would need to have a private meeting with Harry to discern if this was cause for concern.

The rumor mill churned regardless. Madame Pomfrey had arrived shortly after Lupin's attempt to get ahead of the situation by turning himself in, so to speak. The Medi-witch was furious. In her own words, 'First Rubeus' beastiary and now I've got a ward full of students claiming You-Know-Who is occupying the Defense classroom.' Albus had to promise her an increased budget for Calming Draughts to get her to leave.

All of this to say, Albus Dumbledore did not have the time of day for the missive that arrived on his desk from the Ministry or the follow-up from the School Board. He stood from his desk and stepped away from the unopened letters. Crossing the room to one of the shallow alcoves in the office, Dumbledore reached his Pensieve and delved into the memory swirling within, hoping once more to discern something more from it than met the eye.

Potter took dinner in his room that evening, much to Severus' displeasure. He had hoped to question the boy further about the events of the day - if only to gather incriminating evidence that might get Lupin removed from his position. When he went to beckon Potter from his room, the boy had requested solitude, stating the glasses had given him migraine.

The child was an enigma. One that Severus desperately wished to understand. From the moment he found Potter curled up in the closet of that muggle residence, Severus found his life permanently altered. There was the matter of his vow - to protect Lily's child - but this went beyond. It was as if the machinations that had led the both of them to that moment were now laid bare in the light.

None were more flagrant than those of the Headmaster. Severus had gotten rather good at sniffing out Dumbledore's meddling, at least when in regards to his own well-being. Now, being so close to Harry, he could see clearly the Headmaster's influence coiled tightly around him. From the muggles to the boy's experiences at Hogwarts. Nothing but manufactured misfortune.

Where did that leave them? Two pawns hiding away from the world as if by doing so they might escape their fates. Severus understood Harry's fate more than most. To protect him from it was an impossibility. Perhaps that led to his own role in all of this: Keep the boy safe until he could be martyred. Thinking of his charge in the next room, Severus could name several people he would rather nail to that cross - Albus Dumbledore chief among them.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted from down the hall. "Wait!"

Harry paused in his stride, waiting for his friends to catch up. The group of Gryffindors rounded on him. He caught Neville's gaze with a nod in greeting.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly. "I heard about Defense."

"Yeah, and where were you?" Ron countered.

Neville rolled his eyes. Clearly not the first time that had been asked this morning.

"I have other classes," Hermione sniffed.

Ron grumbled something, but Harry turned and started walking again hoping the movement might quiet them down.

"Is it true you saw You-Know-Who?"

Harry turned his head. "You-Know-Who?"

Beside him, Neville blanched. "It was him alright," the boy said, grimacing. "All snakey a-and terrifying."

"That wasn't him," Harry denied. "It was just a weird person."

"With red-eyes and no nose," Ron pushed. "It was him."

"So what if it was?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed. "Professor Lupin should never have allowed that."

"I don't need special treatment," he hissed. "I just want to go to my classes."

"Well, you're in luck mate," Ron said. "Double potions with the snakes. You asked for it."

Despite the rather disastrous start to the week, Harry had no misgivings about walking into the Potions classroom apart from the presence of the Slytherin house. Over breakfast that morning Professor Snape had disclosed his lesson plan in full detail with Harry, pointing out that he had specifically chosen the potion they would be working on to cater to Harry's condition. Until they tested whether or not potion ingredients or the brews themselves would interact with Harry's illness, Snape would be avoiding any of the above that were known to interact with Basilisk ingredients.

The class quickly settled into their seats. Harry meant to join Ron at his table, but found Dean Thomas in his customary seat. The slight was unintended, but certainly found its mark. He joined Neville instead, the two boys exchanging wary glances as the other Gryffindor boys loudly bemoaned the dangers of Crabbe and Goyle sharing a table on the opposite side.

"As if we'll survive Potter and Longbottom," Draco Malfoy huffed. "I hope you all have your affairs in order."

Professor Snape swept into the room, the door to the classroom slamming behind him. Neville about leapt out of his skin beside Harry.

"Sit," Snape ordered.

With a wave of the man's wand, the chalkboard at the front of the class spun to reveal the opposite side. Listed in chalk on the board were the ingredients required for the day's potion: Wiggenweld.

"Page 223," the Professor called out. "Wiggenweld. Grab your ingredients quickly and return to your seats."

"I'll grab the herbs," Neville whispered, sliding from his stool.

"Professor, this is a first year potion," Hermione called out amidst the scurrying students.

Snape levelled a glare on the muggle-born that could have melted paint off a canvas. "Then you should have no difficulties producing an imacluate brew, Granger. This is a revision."

Harry and Neville formed a strong alliance over the potions station set up before them. Neville felt more comfortable prepping the ingredients as opposed to adding them to the roiling cauldron. Harry was more than happy to take over the dropping and stirring. Though he wouldn't admit it to Neville, attempting to read the board or the small print in his textbook was a nauseating endeavor.

"Uniform in color," Snape called out as a reminder. "If you're seeing yellow you've added too little Dittany."

It was a rather quick brew, all things considered - likely owing to the fact that this was a first year potion - and Harry and Neville quickly rounded the final stretch. Harry stirred the green liquid once more, pleased to see it had taken on the right color - if not a rather sickly hue. He turned off the burner to let it finish off the heat.

Neither of the boys noticed when a well-aimed lump of sloth brain was hurled towards thier concoction from across the room. Fortunately for them, Professor Snape was there to intervene.

"Malfoy," Snape hissed. His wand was raised and pointed at the offensive lump of grey matter suspended in the air in the aisle. "Ten points from Slytherin."

Harry ducked his head as Neville spluttered in surprise.

"But-" Malfoy tried.

"Sit. Down," Snape ordered him.

"That's not fair! Weasley chucked a Lionfish Spine in Pansy's cauldron!"

"Detention this evening. With Filch," Snape said, banishing the levitating ingredient. "For getting caught where a Gryffindor did not. The rest of you, bottle your potions and leave them on my desk."

When the class ended and the students filed out, Harry made sure to give Malfoy a wide berth. He and Neville trailed along behind the other Gryffindor third years who were loudly debating Professor Snape's strange behavior.

"He never takes points from his own house."

"Did you see Malfoy's face? The git."

"Maybe he's just tired of cleaning up after Neville's potion explosions."

"Thanks for sitting with me," Neville said shyly. "It's much easier with two people. Normally Seamus sits around and makes me do all the work."

"You still did plenty more than I did," Harry replied, nudging the boy along. "Thanks for the help."

He was pleased to have made it through a class without starting any more rumors. There were enough eyes on him as it was. He had every intention of avoiding any more misbegotten attention in the coming weeks.