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Chapter Thirteen—Defenses for a Friend
Blaise walks briskly down the corridor outside the Slytherin common room. He cast a monitoring charm on Harry a few days ago, and that charm is blaring now, wavering back and forth in front of him like a mirage. It's telling him there's something wrong with Harry.
Blaise doesn't know what it is, but he will kill someone if he has to.
He slips into the room where Harry's waiting. Harry is pacing back and forth, and he starts when he turns around enough to see Blaise.
"How did you know I was here?" he asks.
Blaise shrugs a little. He'll be willing to explain the charm to Harry, but later. For now, he knows that they'll get distracted by an explanation of complex magical theory if he mentions it. "Had a feeling. What's wrong?"
"Read this."
Blaise patiently takes the letter that Harry thrusts at him. From the way that Harry's pacing, he's expecting more news from Sirius Black, or maybe something from the Headmaster, a gentle and ineffective reminder.
It is neither.
Blaise's shoulders want to hunch as he reads. He doesn't let himself do that. Harry is depending on him to solve this problem—or will be, as soon as he calms down enough to remember that Blaise will be there for him—and he doesn't want to show his own upset.
But it's fine to show his shock. "Dumbledore is going to force him to do this?"
"He never thinks that anyone except him and people he likes really have their own point-of-view," Harry snaps back. He comes to a step in the middle of the floor and scowls at the far wall. "He just assumes I should forgive Black without any discussion! And he probably assumes that I'm still living with the Dursleys, too."
"I thought he liked Longbottom, though."
Harry shakes his head. "Neville wouldn't have grown up the way he did if that was the case. Dumbledore would have stepped in when he realized how his grandmother was destroying his self-confidence. He should have done that anyway, even if he only cares about Neville as a propaganda piece. He doesn't want a stuttering and incoherent hero, does he? But he didn't step in, which is why I think he's just terrible at looking beyond his mind."
"And Mrs. Longbottom agrees with him?"
"Yeah, reading the letter." Harry spins around to Blaise. "We need to stop Snape somehow. Going to Dumbledore isn't going to do anything. And poor Neville can't do this by himself."
Something in Blaise relaxes. As long as Harry instinctively trusts him, looks to him for help and protection, then Blaise thinks he will always be pleased. "All right. Then do you want me to start on him first?"
"I don't think threatening him—"
Blaise laughs a little. "I can promise him a future favor from my mother. That won't cost us anything, and it'll spare Longbottom."
"Would your mum be willing to do that? I don't think she even knows Neville exists, unless one of us mentions him in our letters."
"She's willing to do that for you," Blaise says softly, and watches the way Harry's face softens. Of course, there are all sorts of undercurrents moving here, like the way that Mother wants to bind a wizard of Harry's power closer to their family, but there is also the fact that Harry is Blaise's best friend and Mother is most willing to help. "Yes, she'll help him. I can promise that. And the kinds of things that Snape wants, like rare Potions ingredients, would cost her practically nothing, anyway."
"All right." Harry takes a deep breath and starts to say something else, but Artemis sticks her head out of his pocket and hisses at him. Blaise feels Ignis stir in his own pocket. He lets the little dragon climb onto his shoulder.
Harry gives him an absent smile, but he's mostly involved in hissing at Artemis. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, then glances at Blaise. "She thinks I should have come to you the minute I got the letter, instead of wasting my time pacing around and jostling her."
"You could have come to me, you know that," Blaise says softly. He reaches out, and Harry comes over and squeezes his hand after a moment of hesitation.
"I know," he says. "But you shouldn't have to do everything for me. I don't want you to do everything for me."
Blaise just nods. Honestly, he supposes someday they'll find something Harry will have to do on his own. But to Blaise, it's an extravagant pleasure to be able to help someone. Mother doesn't need it, and she's the only person he spent any time with for years and years.
"I'll talk to Professor Snape tomorrow after class."
Severus raises his head and frowns when he sees Zabini lingering behind the class. Zabini is fine with his potions, quiet, and only causes some trouble with Draco in the common room. Those problems are the results of impromptu duels, from what Severus can find out. He's been reduced to shaking his head and telling Draco to stay away from Zabini.
Zabini didn't mess up his potion today, either. But he's waiting and staring at Severus with the patience of a gravestone.
"Yes, Mr. Zabini?" Severus drawls, waving his wand to clean up a bubbling pool of goo near the front of the room.
"I understand that you're going to teach Longbottom Occlumency."
Severus pauses. He cannot immediately understand how Zabini heard that, but it probably has something to do with Potter, to whom Zabini pays far more attention than necessary or seemly. It would be like Potter to collect someone as stupid as Longbottom so he can show off his greater skills in contrast.
It disturbs Severus far more that Zabini would be willing to approach Severus about this, if the connection to Longbottom is Potter.
"What of it, Mr. Zabini?"
"I know that you'll probably rip into his mind, because you despise him. I would ask that you go gently. It would please me." Zabini inclines his head. "It would please my mother. She would be happy to grant you—something in thanks."
Severus blinks several times. Of course he knows the reputation of Aradia Zabini. Everyone in magical Britain with some sense (which excludes Potter and Longbottom) does. But he flat-out does not believe that she would grant him a favor to go gentle on Longbottom.
"You should not make promises you cannot keep, Mr. Zabini."
"I never do, sir."
That makes Severus pause one more time. If Zabini is speaking the truth—the ingredients he could have her import, the jobs he could ask her to search for—
But he cannot be speaking the truth. Perhaps his mother might even agree to do something for him, but when she sees how pathetic Longbottom is, she would change her mind. Severus shakes his head.
"You do not want the favor, sir?" Zabini is watching him closely.
"Say rather that I do not believe your mother would do it for Longbottom."
"She would do it for me."
The confidence in Zabini's voice is enough to make Severus hesitate, again. But in the end, he sneers at his own softness and casts the idea aside. No. That is not the way it works. People who live outside Britain are not dazzled by the Boy-Who-Lived, and those who are truly paying attention would know better.
"No."
"Can I ask you a question, sir?"
"You have already asked me several," Severus snaps.
Zabini takes that as permission to go ahead instead of the warning it is, because of course he does. "Why do you want to rip into Longbottom's mind? I admit that I don't know much about Occlumency, but I would have thought it would require trust between student and teacher."
"He is beyond pathetic," Severus says. Honestly, the boy grew up in a rich pureblood family, with every advantage handed to him, including ones that Severus would have killed for, and he still shakes as if he's made of meringue! He has the power and the fame to do anything he wants, but all he wants to do is shiver and hide. "I resent that I will have to spend my time teaching him."
There. Now Zabini should know how hopeless it is to try and change Severus's mind. Severus hopes that means he will cease trying.
Zabini blinks a few times. Then he says, "But it's the Headmaster who's making you do that, not Longbottom himself."
Severus laughs in spite of his intention to do no such thing. "If you think it so easy to back away from doing the Headmaster a favor, then I invite you to try, Mr. Zabini."
In truth, Severus would see none of his Slytherins involved with Albus's plans, any more than he would see them involved with the Dark Lord. Albus would be kinder, he would not kill or torture, but he would wind them in coils, and to a certain frame of mind—one like Severus's—that is more intolerable.
"I see," Zabini says, and he turns and slips out of the classroom with all the grace and silence of a shadow.
Severus shakes his head at Zabini's back. There is another who's giving up the advantages he was born with, but in his case, it comes from his friendship with Potter.
Severus narrows his eyes. In one way, he thinks, everything comes back to Potter. The boy was not chosen by the Dark Lord like Longbottom, but he could have been. He is corrupting Zabini. He has been, now that Severus recalls some of what Minerva was saying the other day, spending time with Longbottom.
Severus smiles a little. Perhaps it is time to show the boy that not everyone thinks he is a darling and worth coddling.
"Potter. Stay after class."
Harry grimaces into his potion and shrugs when Anthony gives him a concerned glance. "Nothing for it," he murmurs, and nods his thanks when Anthony silently offers to pack up Harry's things for him.
"Potter! Stop talking. Two points from Ravenclaw."
By now, at least, Harry's Housemates have adapted to the reality that is Snape always taking points from Harry and never giving them for anything, so they just shoot him sympathetic glances and drift out of the room. Harry remains standing by his packed kit and cauldron, Anthony scampering off when Harry shakes his head. He doesn't want his friend to get in trouble for lingering.
"What have you done with Longbottom, Potter?"
Harry blinks, since that's not what he expected to hear at all. "Sir? I'm sorry? I haven't done anything with him?"
His voice rises at the end despite himself, and Snape makes a slashing motion with one hand. "Do not whine, Potter," he says, starting forwards, his robes billowing around him. "Do not play games with me. You know as well as I do that it was not his idea to resist the Occlumency lessons the Headmaster demands."
Oh. Blaise did tell him about how he failed to get Snape to see sense when it comes to favor-trading with Aradia, but Harry didn't predict Snape would come after him next. He raises his head and looks Snape straight in the eye. "It was Neville's idea, because you're a bully and he doesn't want you to rip into his head and mock him for it."
Snape stares at him in what seems to be utter surprise. Harry doesn't know why—wait, yes, he does. He's been accepting the loss of points and the insults without comment for a while now.
"I will take so many points from Ravenclaw," Snape whispers, his voice shaking with that hatred that he seems to have whenever he looks at Harry. "If you knew what I will do to you for this—"
"See?" Harry manages to shake his head and keep a sad expression on his face, even though his back is prickling and Artemis is shifting around in his pocket and some of the instincts he's acquired in practicing dueling with Blaise and Neville are screaming at him to run. "That's one way you're a bully. Getting upset at a student for telling you the truth."
"I am taking points for disrespect—"
"We both know that's not true. Sir."
The moment holds like glass between them for a long moment, and then shatters as Snape wrinkles his lips back from his teeth and snarls, "Get out."
Harry goes. He doesn't think he made Neville's situation any better, which is a pity, but at least he could hardly have made it worse.
And since Snape apparently doesn't want the favor from Aradia, it's time for something else. Although Harry has a quiet argument all the way to the classroom where he's going to meet with Blaise about what the something else will be.
"It is safe. You cannot say that he would spot me."
"You know that magical people can see you the way that Muggles can't."
"But that does not mean that they would be looking for me." Artemis wriggles excitedly back and forth on the desk that Harry's placed her on. Harry is watching her with his arms folded and a frown firmly in place, but that only seems to make her more excited. "I can spy on him and report back to you."
"Will you know what to look for?" Harry asks, a little skeptically. Artemis is the one who came up with the idea of getting blackmail on Snape, but she didn't know what it was called, and Harry doesn't know if she'll recognize the kind of thing that would make Snape think twice before going after Neville.
"Anything embarrassing."
"And you know what's embarrassing to a human?"
"The same kind of thing that's embarrassing to a snake."
Harry tries not to sigh. "Not exactly, Artemis. There's no way that Snape is slithering around his office hunting mice—"
"But when he misses his strike? That would be embarrassing to him."
Harry blinks a little. Then he nods. "Maybe you can be good at this after all."
"You did not form me as a snake for no reason," Artemis says in satisfaction.
Neville knocks on the door of Snape's office with a hand that trembles. He knows Harry and Zabini are trying their best, but they haven't managed to find a way to keep him away from the Occlumency lessons yet. And Gran wrote this morning to say he had to attend.
"Come in."
Neville closes his eyes as he nudges the door open with the heel of his hand. Snape already sounds as irritated as if he's been inhaling Irascible Draught fumes all day.
Snape stands in the middle of the office with his hands folded behind his back when Neville opens his eyes again. Neville manages to keep from stumbling, and closes the door behind him when Snape snaps for him to do it. He watches as Snape turns around and sweeps over to his desk.
"This is for you. Read it."
Neville fumbles and nearly drops the book that Snape tosses to him. When he turns it around, he can see that the title contains the word Occlumency, but that's the only thing he has time to read before Snape roars, "Clear your mind!"
Neville looks up, eyes wide, terrified that Snape managed to come so near before he could sense him, and then that wand is being leveled at him and Snape rips into his mind.
It hurts more than Neville knew anything could. A headache immediately begins pounding around his temples, and Snape digs scornfully through memories of Neville failing at simple tests of wandless magic that his grandmother set him, and failing to memorize things that his father could do in an afternoon, and failing to Transfigure buttons the way his mother could by the time she was six years old—
Snape rips himself free. Neville stumbles and reels and falls against the wall behind him. His panting sounds loud in the silence.
"Dear Merlin," Snape murmurs. "If this is what you are like, inside, we are all doomed when the Dark Lord returns."
Neville shudders, and says nothing. It's milder than some of the things he envisioned Snape saying, but in a way, that only makes it worse, since he has to wonder what will come next.
"You didn't prepare at all, did you?" Snape asks softly. "Except by asking your little friends to intervene on your behalf."
Neville stares at him. "Y-you know about Harry and Zabini?"
"Don't stutter, it's unbecoming," Snape says, and his voice stings a lot more than Gran's when she says the same thing. "Yes, of course I know about them. And I know that you are more mentally deficient than I was capable of conceiving if you thought they could stop me."
Neville lowers his eyes and swallows, and swallows again. He wants to say lots of things, but they're only fine and defiant inside his head. In reality, he knows that he would say them aloud and Snape would immediately laugh in his face, and then Neville would feel even worse for thinking he might be able to stand up to the bastard.
"We will try a few more times," Snape says, his eyes glittering. "So that you will have the memory of the pain to spur you on your way." He aims his wand at Neville, and Neville shivers and trembles and only manages not to run out of the room by convincing himself that he's a Gryffindor, and Gran would never let him live it down. "Legilimens!"
"I wanted to bite him."
Harry gently strokes Artemis's back as she curls up next to him on his pillow. He has his curtains warded so that no one can come near without setting off a little alarm. It was one of the first spells he learned to do with a wand. "I know, but thank you for not doing it."
Artemis lifts her head and flicks her tongue at him for emphasis. "He is cruel to a boy who is not prey or an enemy who would eat him. I do not understand such humans. I would not understand such snakes."
Harry nods. He can't say that he really understands Snape, either. He's glad that he didn't end up in Slytherin, even though it would have been kind of fun to be in Blaise's House, because Snape and Malfoy would be there all the time.
"But you found something we could use." Harry knows Snape wouldn't care if they tried to blackmail him with his treatment of Neville. If he cared, he wouldn't be doing it in the first place.
"I found it." Artemis gives a delighted glance back over the length of her body, as though she's scanning for some imperfection in her scales. "I found a collection of the shiny pictures that move! There was a girl in them with green eyes like yours."
Harry coughs and keeps on coughing. Artemis wriggles up his chest and stares at him in concern, then whisks under the pillow when Anthony calls from outside the curtains, "Harry, are you all right?"
"Yeah, sorry," Harry calls back. "Air went down the wrong way."
Anthony snorts and then is silent, probably disappearing back into the book of Transfiguration theory that's occupied all his time lately. He doesn't get the best marks in McGonagall's class, and he's determined to figure out why.
"Who were the pictures of besides—my mum?" Harry whisper-hisses to Artemis when his roommate is silent again. He's full of wonder at the idea that it's his mum and halfway wants to reject it. Snape hates Harry. Why would he have pictures of Harry's mother, of all people?
"There was him. The bad one. And there were a few other people. Perhaps the woman that we used to live with."
Harry smiles a little, his mind spinning. "Aunt Petunia?" If Snape has pictures of her, that pretty much proves that he has to have known Harry's family when his mum was a girl. Harry can't conceive of Aunt Petunia letting a "freak" come close to her now.
"Yes, that one. There were other people. I did not know them."
Harry falls back on his bed and tucks his hands together behind the nape of his neck. This is incredible. And it might explain why Snape hates Harry so much, if it was something about his mum or maybe his aunt. Merlin knows that Aunt Petunia could make anyone hate her.
Then Harry shakes the fascination off. The point is still that they're trying to help Neville. "Could you bring one of the photographs with you? Without Snape seeing you," he adds hastily. It's possible that Artemis would be all right no matter what someone tried to do to her, seeing as she's formed of pure magic, but Harry doesn't want to risk her no matter what.
"Can I hunt mice?"
Harry smiles and strokes her back. "All right. Go back the next time Snape is teaching Neville Occlumency, so that we know he's distracted." Part of Harry feels bad about waiting that long, because that means Neville will suffer more, but the rest of him points out that it's the only way to be sure that Artemis is safe and they can use blackmail on Snape.
Harry wouldn't have liked to be in Slytherin, really, but he's sure the Hat would have picked that for him over Gryffindor if Ravenclaw wasn't an option.
"I shall do so."
"I'm sorry, Longbottom. We tried to persuade him by offering him a favor from my mother if he would stop the Occlumency lessons, but he wouldn't."
Blaise feels his mouth turn down as Longbottom closes his eyes. It's not really for Longbottom himself, of course. Blaise wouldn't give a shit about Longbottom and wouldn't even know about the Occlumency lessons if not for Harry.
But he doesn't like seeing someone who matters to Harry upset.
He glances at Harry, who is sitting at the other end of their table in their by-now-usual deserted classroom, and blinks. Harry's eyes are narrowed and he looks as if he would happily murder Snape, but he also doesn't look as upset as Blaise thought he would.
"Harry?" he asks softly.
The word or the tone distracts Longbottom from his imminent crying session. He blinks. "Harry, you found something?"
Harry nods slowly. "I think so. I think we can prevent him from doing anything to you. But it means that we're going to need you to go to a second Occlumency lesson. That's the only time when he would be so distracted we could sneak past him."
"What? Harry, that's dangerous, you shouldn't be doing that!"
"He shouldn't be ripping into your mind, either," Harry snaps, leaning forwards. Blaise stares. He's never seen Harry look like this, as if he's dangerous. His magic seems to ripple under his skin, and his hands clench into claws on either side of the table. "But no one's going to stop that, so we have to make Snape stop it."
"But how are you going to sneak into the office?"
"Don't worry. I learned a spell that can do it."
"But you struggle with spells." Longbottom peers at Harry. "Is Zabini going to be with you?"
"Yes, of course."
Harry is lying, but he's doing it with incredible smoothness, just smiling at Longbottom and shaking his head a little as if asking the Gryffindor why one of them would go without the other. Longbottom blushes. Blaise keeps a calm look on his face, despite knowing Harry is lying because he hasn't said one word about this plan to Blaise.
And that means Artemis is probably helping him with it.
He waits until Longbottom has nodded and mumbled and sworn that he can take one more Occlumency lesson with the bastard Head of Slytherin House and left before he clears his throat. "What are you using Artemis to do, Harry?"
"Of course you would figure it out."
Blaise's heart lifts. Harry sounds only friendly, a little exasperated, not irritated. Blaise closes the distance between them and looks down as he watches Artemis writhe out of Harry's pocket. "She's going to be all right?"
Artemis hisses at him, and Harry laughs. "Of course," he says, when Blaise glances at him for the translation. "And she finds it insulting that you doubt her."
"It's something Snape would kill her for," Blaise says softly. He doesn't believe, despite appearances to the contrary, that their professor would stoop to murder of a student, but a magical snake? Of course he would. "Are you sure that you don't want me to speak with Mother? She would be pleased to come herself and threaten Snape, I'd think."
"I appreciate it, Blaise. But I want to do this myself. And I think I can. Artemis found some really interesting things the last time I sent her into Snape's office. Which was during Neville's first Occlumency lesson."
"What kind of interesting things?"
Harry squares his shoulders and knocks on Snape's door. It's two days after Neville's second lesson in Occlumency, which, according to him, left him feeling as if he were bleeding inside his head. Harry is glad that they were able to wait this long, but also, enough is enough.
"Enter!" comes the hissing snarl from behind the door.
Harry opens it and steps inside, ignoring the way that Snape's face curdles at seeing him. "Sir," he says. "I've come to ask you to stop the Occlumency lessons you're having with Neville Longbottom. Or if you think that the Headmaster would make you keep it up, then you should be gentler about it. And you should make a vow that you won't ever mock Neville for what you saw in his head."
Snape is incandescent with rage, Harry can see that, even though he's sitting still behind the desk. He stands up a second later, and then prowls around it towards Harry. "Mr. Potter," he says, and the softer his voice gets the more dangerous he is, "I will remove twenty points—"
Harry takes the photograph that Artemis retrieved from the box Snape keeps them in and holds it up. It shows the girl he's certain is his mum, because her green eyes are just like his, and a boy who sure does look like Snape. They're standing underneath a tree covered with autumn red and laughing. Well, Lily is laughing and looking at the camera. Snape is looking at her.
The expression on his face is what made Harry sure that he can try this tactic, and it'll work.
Snape stops as though Harry has conjured a Shield Charm. "Where did you get that?" he asks. This time, his voice is hoarse with pain.
"It doesn't matter," Harry says softly. "It doesn't even matter if it came from someone else. What matters is that I could so easily tell the story of you being obsessed with my mother." He sees the way the words go home like a spell, the flinch Snape can't hide. "Because that's what it was, wasn't it? Not just friendship, not even love or a crush. Obsession. Slytherin is full of blood purists. How much will they respect you when they hear that you were obsessed with a Muggleborn?"
Snape stares at him. Harry wonders if he's about to say that no one would care and Harry should go ahead with his blackmail, but he doesn't. He says only, "And what would people think of your mother?"
Harry shrugs. "She's dead. And she doesn't look obsessed with you in this picture." Ha, strike. "People could insult her to me, but it wouldn't bother me as much as the truth being spread would bother you."
"How did you avoid Slytherin?"
Harry didn't expect the question, so he pauses. But he says, "Because the Hat put me in Ravenclaw."
Snape snorts. He doesn't take his eyes from Harry. There's an odd contemplative look in them that Harry didn't think he'd see, either, and so he braces himself. Artemis is in his pocket, but he will only reveal her if he has to. He'd much rather create something out of material in Snape's office and then pass it off as accidental magic.
"Your father never would have sought to blackmail me," Snape says suddenly. "He would have spread an embarrassing secret he found out about me all over school, but blackmail….never."
Harry half-shrugs. "I never knew him. But I don't think I'm much like him."
"You are not," Snape says. Then he inclines his head. "I could not get out of offering Longbottom the Occlumency lessons, because the Headmaster would take notice, but I will be gentle. And I vow on my magic that I will not spread around the secrets in Neville Longbottom's head." The air seems to vibrate, which Harry supposes is the effect of the vow.
"I'll know if you're not gentle."
"Spoken like a threat."
"That's because it is."
He and Snape hold eye contact for a few more seconds. Harry knows that's kind of dangerous, since Snape's a Legilimens and could rip all sorts of truths Harry wouldn't want him to know about from Harry's head. Still, he thinks that he should let Snape see his determination to protect his friend.
Try me. See what you get.
Snape abruptly nods. "You will return the photograph to me."
Harry hands it over willingly enough. He made a copy already, working on the Copying Charm for the past few days with a dedication that made him fall asleep in Transfiguration. He doesn't care that McGonagall took some points from Ravenclaw, though. It was worth it. "Here you are."
Snape says nothing, but watches him go. Artemis stirs when they're several corridors away and Harry can't think that even Snape's potentially super eyes and ears could sense her.
"That went well."
"It went strangely," Harry says. He expected Snape to be furious at being blackmailed like that and to rant and rave. He thinks this reaction makes Snape more dangerous.
But then he shakes off the mood, and chats with Artemis as he goes to find Neville and tell him the good news.
Severus stands staring at the door of his office for a long time after Potter has left. People would mock him for that more than for staring at Lily in the photograph if they could see him, and yet, he is alone, and does so.
Potter is nothing like he thought.
Severus really did see his father in him—a Ravenclaw, of course, but that just meant a brighter James Potter who was more stubbornly determined to rub his supposed intelligence in Severus's face. He saw someone who befriended Longbottom out of jealousy and desire to get more attention. He saw someone who would spread the secret to take revenge on Severus for what he'd already done to Longbottom and escalate the patterns of retaliation Severus and the so-called Marauders were involved in for so long.
Instead, he now sees someone quieter. Smarter. More cunning. More dangerous.
Someone more like Lily.
Someone he will watch more closely from now on, and treat more carefully.