It was August 31. One day before the students arrived back for the new year and two days before he could give Potter detention until the end of time. He had been released from the Hospital Wing shortly after breakfast with stern warnings to summon Poppy immediately if he felt at all unwell, or injured himself. He hoped this meant she would remove the monitoring band but alas it seemed she did not trust him enough, despite his vehement promises to do exactly as she asked.
So he had just one day to himself, but by gods, Potter was not going to know what had hit him come Monday afternoon. For the first time he was almost pleased that Potter had elected to take NEWT Potions, thus he did not have to try and find a reason to come into contact with the brat. By pure coincidence the sixth year lesson was last thing in the day, so he could keep Potter behind for as long as he wished and give him the tongue-lashing of the century. He would then find all the cauldrons he had deemed too contaminated to be saved and make the brat clean them without magic. He might even add some more hardened gloop to them just for good measure. Until those cauldrons were crystal clear, Potter would be in detention with him every night. That boy would rue the day he ever told Severus Snape's secrets.
Harry groaned as he read his schedule. Double Potions last thing on a Monday. There was only one combined NEWT class, so it would be a mix of all the houses, but Harry didn't doubt there would be more Slytherins than any other house there.
When Monday afternoon came, Harry had to admit he was curious about how the lesson would go. Since arriving back at the castle, every time Snape had caught sight of Harry his gaze had turned to a glare of deep hatred, but the two had not yet been close enough for further communication.
Harry sighed internally as he walked past Snape into the classroom. He had hoped that the man might have learnt his lesson after he'd carried through with his first threat but it seemed that six weeks in the Hospital Wing hadn't done anything to mollify the git at all. Well no doubt he'd get detention for breathing later on, and he could find out the situation then.
Sure enough, ten minutes into the Potions lesson, Snape vanished Harry's attempt.
"I rather like my classroom not blown up Potter. Detention directly after class. Your relatives may do everything for Prince Potter but in case your tiny little brain needs reminding, I will not. This is NEWT level, you are expected to read the textbook before class, read around the subject to achieve an understanding of the potion and then follow the recipe quickly, quietly and efficiently. If you cannot manage that then there is the door. I, for one, would be much obliged if you went through it and did not return."
Harry sighed again. If anything, the man was worse than he had been before. Oh well, time for phase two then.
After the lesson, Harry stayed behind as instructed. As soon as the last student left, Snape turned on him fiercely.
"What was the meaning of that at the end of last term?" he hissed.
"End of what?" Harry asked innocently.
"Don't be imbecilic. That whole episode with Madame Pomfrey. I have been in the Hospital Wing for the entire summer holiday!"
"I know that. I may have helped it along some." Harry shrugged.
"You did what?" Snape spluttered in outrage.
"Careful, your bracelet's gone orange" Harry mocked in response.
Snape looked down. Through his socks, trousers and robes was a bright orange ring visible just above his ankle.
"Yeah, the Weasley twins have some fabulous stuff and Dobby's a whizz at getting it into the air conditioning. I rather like the Fainting Fancy, but I know most people go for Nosebleed Nougat."
"That was all you?" Snape spluttered again. He knew he'd blamed it all on the boy, but he didn't think Potter could or would actually do so.
He reflexively looked down as the band on his ankle started vibrating.
"Yup," Harry said proudly, following the Potion Master's gaze and smirking. "I had hoped you might realise how easily I can get to you and therefore stop bullying me so actively."
"Somebody has to take you down a peg or two Potter. It just seems that that burden has fallen to me. Contrary to what you may think, the world does not, in fact, revolve around you. There are cauldrons over there by the sink. Give me your wand and then get to cleaning them. You'll be in detention every night until I can use every one of them to shave with."
Harry relinquished his wand and then headed over to the cauldrons. Examining them, he found a thick tar like substance in most of them which bubbled and let off a sulphurous hiss ever so often. It wouldn't pour but every time he tried to scratch it off with a knife, the blade slid through it like it was liquid. Obviously Snape had found or added into these cauldrons a magical substance that would never come off without magic. Given the man's current attitude, Harry realised that Snape intended to keep him in detention all year and probably next year if he could. Well if Snape was going to continue to abuse his position...
Harry turned back to face the petty man.
"You know Snape, I was prepared to leave it there," he said conversationally. "I thought I'd had enough revenge. But it seems I haven't. I hope you enjoyed your last trip to Madame Pomfrey, it wasn't your last. Good night."
With that Harry walked out of the classroom, entirely ignoring Snape's demands to come back and his deducting of points.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was during dinner that night that the spectacle happened. Severus Snape, halfway through a conversation with Minerva McGonagall, suddenly slumped forwards and landed face-first in a bowl of mashed potato, his torso landing on his own half-eaten plate. As Poppy levitated him out, still covered in potato and dripping gravy onto the floor, three quarters of the student body cheered. They believed it to be a prank well done on their most hated teacher. Harry just smirked. He knew better.
When Snape woke up, his senses immediately told him he was in the Hospital Wing again. He tried to move his head to look around for Poppy, but he found that he couldn't. He took a few deep breaths and tried to move each limb in turn. He could not. He could not even blink. Footsteps approached and a voice called out his name but he had no way to respond. His magic seemed to be held by the same force that was holding the rest of him hostage. Bloody, bloody Potter. Cleaning cauldrons was too good for him after this. He would be cleaning the Owlery using only his fingernails and tongue. And the birds wouldn't be removed of course.
A bright light was shone in his eyes and he recoiled, screwing his eyes tightly shut. Nothing happened and the light continued to burn into his brain until it was mercifully removed a few seconds later. He felt sharp pricks and pinches begin all over his body, some painful, some just irritating but whatever he did, he could not move away. After what felt like an age of this, they stopped and a mask was placed over his nose and mouth. A bloody oxygen mask! He didn't need one of them, he was perfectly fine inside thankyou very much! The footsteps died away and Snape was left staring at the ceiling.
He didn't know how long had passed but it had had to be a few hours because all the light had faded to the pitch black of a clear September night. He thought he must have dozed off at one point but now he was fully awake. He needed the bathroom, badly. But again however he tried, he could make no movement or noise to express his need. Since everything else was immobile, Snape assumed his bladder would be so as well, and he was somewhat shocked to find that not the case. It was an uncomfortable, wet and sticky night, made only worse by having to be bathed and changed the following morning as he watched, helpless.
This happened again as Poppy came to check on him a few hours later, so he had to suffer the indignity of wearing a nappy and then lying in his own waste until someone came to change him. A feeding tube had been placed into his mouth and a plethora of spells, wards and wires had been attached to his chest. He was bare except for the nappy.
He guessed it must have been the third day when he started to itch. Everywhere. At the same time. Of course he couldn't move anything to relieve the sensation so he was forced to bear it in silence. After a day, he was screaming so loudly he was sure they should be able to hear him in Hogsmeade. His pulse rate soared and his breathing became quick and shallow. Every time he was touched it was made worse. He was somewhat surprised to notice that tears were actually falling down his face, as he cried inside. That and snot dribbling from his nose. He would do anything to make this stop, it was worse than any torture the Dark Lord had ever handed out.
Taking a breath and trying to calm down, Snape sensed another being in his head. He spun around with his wand raised, ready to curse whoever had entered. It was the Headmaster.
"Severus?"
"Yes Albus?" Snape replied tiredly.
"Oh thank Merlin. Do you know what happened? We've been so worried about you, with everything that happened over the summer."
"I do not. But Potter will. It is he that did this I assure you."
"You are suggesting that a sixteen year old boy has found a way to cause full paralysis without affecting your mind? I think not my boy. Poppy told me of the troubles you had over the summer, we believe this is linked to that. You started again too soon."
"It was Potter. He said so himself."
"OK Severus. I will talk to him. You need to get some sleep if you are to fight this."
Just a second later the Headmaster was gone and Snape was left with his own thoughts. He mentally slapped himself - he hadn't even told Albus about the bloody itching! This was linked to that before. Potter was responsible for both. He sighed and decided sleep probably was the best thing.
The next morning when he awoke he stretched and his arms moved! Carefully he tested every area of his body until he was sure that movement had completely come back. Feeling a little giddy with excitement he decided to play a trick on Poppy and be sitting up when she came in. He contemplated getting out of bed, but decided being stuck to it after five days of being unable to move was not something he was willing to risk.
"Severus!" Poppy exclaimed when she saw him. "You're awake!"
"Good morning Poppy" he replied pleasantly.
"How are you feeling? Do you have any idea what could have caused that?" she asked, expertly running a diagnostic charm as she spoke.
"No more than I told Albus."
"Hmmmm. Can I get you some breakfast?"
"I don't feel upto eating right now. Perhaps a bit later?"
"Just this once. Do you fancy trying to sleep a bit?"
"Not particularly, but just for you I shall try."
"Sleep well Severus, I'll be back in a few hours."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was late at night when Snape woke abruptly, his finely honed senses screaming at him. He looked around - there was no-one there. He was just settling down, trying to ignore the feeling and go back to sleep when suddenly Potter removed his invisibility cloak. Of course, Potter and his damned way of getting into the Hospital Wing without notice.
"Potter" he hissed. "What are you doing here?"
"Came to see how you were enjoying your latest stay in this fine establishment. Itching powder combined with a body bind is quite the powerful thing wouldn't you say?"
"A body bind? That was it? A simple first year spell?"
"Applied by a house elf, but otherwise yup. Strong finite from Dumbledore would most likely have broken it." Harry smirked evilly. "But with everything that happened over the summer, they came to entirely the wrong conclusion. You have provided them with the perfect scenario. Made your own noose so to speak. Doesn't matter what you do now, they'll not believe you anymore."
"What was your point of doing this Potter? Why have you subjected me to all this? What do you hope to gain?"
"You, Snape, are an unfair, biased and downright nasty bully. You hate me on principle because you hated my father. You call me names-"
"I do not pander to your every whim Potter? Is that what you're saying?" Snape interrupted. "I don't treat you like the prince your relatives make you feel? I bet they shower you with everything they can when you go home don't they, give into your every demand, and not care in the least for your rule-breaking. You are the Golden Boy, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived and so you deserve it all. Of course now the papers are turning the public against you, you're angry about the loss of your celebrity status and so you chose to take it out on the professor you have made widely known that you hate. All the others still hold you on that pedestal but since I do not and have never, you want me out of the way."
Snape sneered as he threw these accusations in Harry's face. Never before had his hatred for Harry Potter been quite so obvious.
"You're wrong Snape" Harry said, fighting to remain calm. "I've fought a basilisk, a hundred dementors and even Voldemort himself to keep you safe. I would've died for you, I have killed for you and yet you still hate me.
Even now, with everything I feel about you, I will still fight for you, same as I will for every other human being, magical or muggle. I will fight for the cause I believe in until my dying breath. I know you hate me, and I know you're taking out your grudge against the father that I never knew on me, but don't you dare try and tell me what living with the Dursleys is like.
Did you know that every year I have begged Dumbledore to let me stay in the castle over the summer? That each year I think of new ways to stay hidden on the Express as it comes into King's Cross? That my first birthday present I can remember was a cake from Hagrid when I turned eleven and we were in a hut on a rock in the middle of the sea trying to escape the Hogwarts letters that were following me? Hagrid was the one who told me I was a wizard that night, he told me how my parents died and that I was famous. Everyone thinks I've always been famous, but for more than half of my life I lived in the cupboard under the stairs and I thought that was normal."
Harry took some deep breaths and tried to centre himself once more.
"I would have done anything for you, I would have moved heaven and earth for just one kind word, for just one reassurance that I wasn't such a waste of space as my relatives made me out to be. To feel, just for once, that I was the same as everybody else."
Harry trailed off as he struggled to keep the tears from falling. Half a minute passed in silence.
"While perhaps you did not have quite such a privileged upbringing as I have hereto believed-"
Harry interrupted him with a cold, bitter laugh.
"You don't believe me do you?" he said. "After all that, you still don't believe me. Answer me this then, how do you think I finally got rid of Voldemort?"
More silence.
"Yeah, didn't think so" Harry said after a few seconds. "You won't believe me but I'll tell you anyway. I cast a patronus inwards and sent it through the link that connected my head to his. It exploded his head from the inside. I've spent years researching and practising the patronus charm and mind magic for the sole reason of doing just that."
"You- you- what?" Snape spluttered.
"Found I was pretty good at it as well, learning the Mind Arts, learnt a bit more than I expected along the way. Interesting stuff really. I thought if I told you what my childhood was like you might stop hating me so openly, but you can't even get past your grudge to listen to what I'm saying. You think I'm still making it up, or at least embellishing it to make it sound better. I hope, for your sake, that I was, or you're in for a tough fifteen years."
Harry turned back towards the door, but after just a few steps he spoke again.
"There's a quote for right now from a poem called Judge Softly, by a muggle author in the 1800s: before you judge a man, walk a mile in his moccasins. When and if we meet again, then you can say what you like about me. At least I know it will be an informed insult. Goodbye Professor Snape."
Harry slipped his cloak on again and the door opened and shut a few seconds later. Snape lay there thinking for a while, pondering on what Potter could have meant by "a tough fifteen years". There was nothing the boy could do that would last that length of time. Lulled into security by the image he'd created of the boy over the last five years, Snape drifted off to sleep, deciding that whatever it was, he would work it out in the morning.
Once the deep breathing and snores showed that the man was indeed asleep, Harry removed his cloak and left his hiding place by the door. He didn't think he would ever be doing this, but it was clear that the greasy bastard was never going to leave him alone otherwise. Casting a further sleeping spell at the man to ensure he didn't wake too early, Harry got to work. A thick strand of memories came attached to his wand from his temple and slowly, Harry fed them into the sleeping Potions Master. The memories continued to stream between the two heads for nearly three and a half hours before Harry was satisfied. Glancing at his watch and realising the curfew was nearly over, Harry crept out of the private room and summoned Dobby, as he had done so many times before.