Title: Lusus Naturae
Chapter: Chapter Thirteen
Rating: M for Accidental McGonagall Bashing
Warnings: Abuse, Death, Dementors
A/N: Just keep writing, just keep writing.
"That is no excuse!"
Severus slammed his hand on the flat surface of the table. From a few seats away Filius Flitwick leapt at the sound of it.
"Severus," Dumbledore warned.
McGonagall glowered at the Potions Professor. "If the boy needs constant supervision, he does not belong in a school. He belongs in a hospital."
"You have lost your mind," Snape spat. "The rest of the children were huddled in fear in the Great Hall. You deem them worthy of supervision, but not an ill child? You've been avoiding him since start of term. You can't stand to look at him without seeing James Potter's face staring back at you?"
Professors Flitwick and Sprout excused themselves without a word - justly grasping that this conversation was not for their ears. Dumbledore saw them out with a muted dismissal.
"I will not stand here and be accused of negligence. I have been Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts since before you raised your wand for the first time Severus Snape. Albus-"
"Negligence," Snape interjected. "I believe an admission of guilt lies in your words, Minerva. Whatever issues you have with Potter, you had best learn to keep them to yourself. You fail to uphold the duties of your station again and I will have your job, on my magic."
McGonagall blanched. Her lips were set into a firm line and a flush of heat rose high on her cheeks. "You accuse me of treating him differently because of his appearance, Severus, but are you not doing the same? Would you care if beneath those glamours he still looked like his father?"
"Minerva," Dumbledore said calmly. "Enough of this."
"I see Harry for who he is. You should do the same," Severus snapped.
He found Potter several hours later in their quarters after the boy returned from his History of Magic class. Something Severus was loathe to call fear still tightened in his chest, recalling how he had found Potter face down on his bed near midnight.
McGonagall was nowhere to be found when he arrived in the corridor. The door to his rooms was ajar and from the entryway he could see Potter's door was cracked open as well. When he found the boy...
"Are you alright?" Harry asked, his head taking on a tilt that showed his concern. "Professor?"
Severus shook himself free from the memory and dipped his chin. "Quite. You'll be thrilled to know I had a conversation with the Headmaster and the other Heads of House. The school has been searched and cleared. No sign of the intruder."
"That's good," Harry said, turning his attention back to the book laid open in front of him on the dining table. Severus had assisted him in adding a magnification charm to each of his textbooks, which seemed to help him read.
"How was History?"
"Boring," he answered, scrunching his nose. "At least Professor Binns reads his lectures aloud. It's easier to listen than to read."
"We'll be meeting with Madame Pomfrey next week to discuss your progress," Severus said in lieu of pity. "Have you noticed any improvements with the glasses?"
Harry appeared to consider it for a moment and shook his head. "No, but it hasn't gotten much worse either."
"That's something," Severus sighed.
The students of Hogwarts were on high alert the following week. Despite being assured of the castle's security, the Professors were no better off than the children. Rumors were circulating that Snape had nearly sent a curse at the Bloody Baron who decided to float down the wrong corridor while the Professor was on patrol duty. Unfortunately for him, a passing Gryffindor sneaking down to the kitchens had seen the ordeal. Gryffindor was down thirty points in the House Cup already and said student did not feel suitably bribed to keep the information to himself.
One thing seemed to set the collective student body back on the right foot: The first quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor Vs. Hufflepuff was not a particularly enthralling match up on the whole, but with Potter sitting out the season as Gryffindor Seeker the Puffs actually stood a chance. The entire school came out to see the opening game of the term.
Harry sat beside Neville in the stands beneath an umbrella they shared between themselves. The rest of the surrounding Gryffindors were chanting for their team as the first quaffle was thrown.
The match got off to a rather unremarkable start. The Hufflepuff Keeper nearly fell off his broom at the first bludger shot his way. It managed to hit one of the goal posts and rebounded into the stomach of the Gryffindor beater who had batted it. Play was halted for the Weasley twins to assess the damage.
When play resumed the game tied up at five even and remained there as the clock ticked down. The Golden Snitch was released and Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, and Oliver Wood, who was filling in for Harry, gave chase. Diggory was nearly on top of the snitch when the first sign of the unexpected happened.
An inordinary burst of thunder clapped loudly overhead. In the stands the students jumped and some shouted out their surprise. Professor McGonagall got to her feet in the Staff Box and raised her wand as she prepared to call the game if needed.
"H-Harry," Neville stuttered in his ear. "I think-"
A student screamed. Cedric Diggory was falling from his broom. Only with Wood's help did he regain his seat astride it. Red sparks shot out from McGonagall's wand and the announcer called over the megaphone that the game was paused. As the players in the air lowered down to the ground, Harry saw the first of the intruders rise over the pitch.
They looked like cloaked figures flying unassisted through the air. Harry could smell them from the stands.
'Dementors,' his mind screamed at him. 'Flee.'
Harry grabbed Neville's hand and got to his feet, but the rush of students who shared the thought overtook them. The boys were forced back into their seats as the older students pushed past them towards the stairs. Neville held onto Harry's hand for dear life.
The stampede ended with the last of the Gryffindor students trampling over Harry's foot. He hissed in pain, glaring down the retreating fourth year.
"Come on," he said to Neville.
Overhead, the storm worsened dramatically. The rain went from a light drizzle to a torrential downpour in a matter of seconds. Harry could feel the weight of the drops hammering into the umbrella, forcing it down and into the tops of their heads.
Neville cried out in pain and fell to his knees between the seats, dragging Harry down with him. That voice in his head was screaming now. It told him to move, to leave the brat behind. He couldn't. Neville was his friend.
"Damn it all," Harry spat, shoving the umbrella and the blond boy away from him.
He got to his feet in the downpour and raised his wand. As he had suspected, one of the Dementors was scanning through the stands overhead. It inched closer by the second. He could make out the hole in the fabric covering its head, revealing the disfigured maw below. The wraith seemed to notice him then, standing inbetween the benches. He took note that not one of his Professors had noticed their predicament, having followed the fleeing students from the pitch. Imbeciles.
"Think happy thoughts, Harry Potter," he said aloud.
Harry thought about quiet dinners with Snape and listening to Neville talk to his plants. He thought about the feeling when he took off the glamours and laid in a warm bed. He thought about the comforting darkness that consumed him as he fell asleep at night.
"Expecto Patronum," Harry shouted.
A bright white light poured from his wand like thick smoke rising from a dwindling fire. The plumes floated lazily in the air in front of him forming a wall between the two boys and the approaching creature. He felt his core surge as he pushed it past its limits. The purity of the light cast away the shadows in his mind. He watched the light take shape - that of a massive snake rearing its head back to lunge at the would-be attacker - and the Dementor shrieked in pain.
Harry fainted on the spot. His fall was broken by the sobbing Neville who threw his own quivering body overtop of his friend to protect him. The great white snake stayed poised nearby until the Professors came to collect them.
"Impossible," Lupin argued. "A corporeal patronus from a third year is... it's absurd."
Professors Flitwick and Sprout shared a look that spoke loudly of their opinions on the hostility that had overtaken staff meetings as of late.
Severus, for his part, had put as much distance between him and his colleagues as was possible while remaining inside the room. He was not keen on the idea of leaving Potter alone in this hellscape any longer than necessary, let alone for a meeting of the minds with the inept staff of said institution.
The-Boy-Who-Lived-By-The-Skin-Of-His-Teeth was resting in the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey and Neville Longbottom overseeing his care for the time being. Longbottom had shown his true Gryffindor colors when they attempted to remove him from the ward, stating they would have to do so by force. For lack of time, they agreed to let the boy stay and that Severus would obliviate him if he said so much as a word about Potter's appearance. He only wished such threats had any effect on the Professors of Hogwarts.
"If we are here to accuse the Headmaster of lying," Severus drawled, "Might I be excused to pursue more pertinent endeavors?"
"You may go, Severus," Dumbledore said gravely before continuing the meeting. "I've spoken to the Minister directly. Tighter controls are being implemented. The Dementors will no longer be able to leave the Forbidden Forest."
"Too little too late, if you ask me," Professor Sprout sniffed. "The Ministry should be held accountable. Two of our students nearly received the Kiss!"
"We are truly fortunate that young Harry's actions prevented such an unimaginable consequence. The best I can do is ensure it does not happen again, my dear."
"Are we running a school," Minerva asked, "or a prison? The students are terrified. First they are tormented by fear of Sirius Black attacking them in their beds and now this?"
"We are doing all we can. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to write to the parents."
"Harry," Neville whispered. "You awake?"
It was dark outside. He couldn't quite tell what time it was but the silence in the infirmary told Neville that Madame Pomfrey had retired for the evening. He climbed from the bed the Medi-witch had offered him and padded across the floor to Harry's bedside. He thought he had heard Harry say something.
His friend looked different now. Pomfrey had explained the glamours he wore to hide the effects of the sickness. It was difficult to look at, knowing he had spent the first two months of the semester thinking Harry was getting better. There were scales all over his body. His skin had barely any color. Neville was more familiar with sickness of the mind than sickness of the body, but he figured it was all the same. What mattered was the person inside. Whether they were locked inside their mind or their body didn't matter to him.
Seeing no change in his friend, Neville returned to his bed and curled up under the thick cotton sheets. He wouldn't breathe a word of it to anyone else. Not just because Snape threatened to obliviate him if he did. Harry was perhaps the only true friend Neville had ever had. He wasn't about to lose that over some scales and red eyes.