As Snape led the way to his office, Harry noticed the corridor that would have led him to Salazar’s private office. If he could sprint fast enough and get down there, maybe he could get in before Snape saw him and lose him. Then he could practice his magic and stay in there all night, because surely Snape would wait all night for him to come out of a hiding place. The moment passed and they moved closer to Snape’s office.

Snape hadn’t missed the way that Harry’s eyes had lingered on the entrance to a corridor for longer than was normal.  He wondered why the boy would be so interested in that corridor, it only led to a dead end, and what the boy could possibly have been doing in the dungeons to even know that corridor at all. Most students just pass it without ever noticing it was there. Snape had come to assume that there was some sort of notice-me-not charm placed on the entrance. Snape filed it away to ask the boy about later.

Harry had become paler on their walk. He was bouncing with pent up energy that he needed to use. He was desperately clawing his control over his magic back and he was slowly losing the battle. Thoughts of dark magic overwhelmed his mind. The power and the freedom were begging to be realised once again. He didn’t know how long he could keep this control up. He hadn’t gone this long without using it for nearly a week now, and it was showing much more than he would have thought.

He knew about muggle drugs, bout how people get addicted to them, but this wasn’t the same thing, he assured himself. I’m not addicted to dark magic, I just like it. He thought.

“Sit, Mister Potter.” Snape inclined his head to the hair in front of his desk, indicating that should be the one Harry sat in. Harry sat and squirmed under the glare of the potions professor. The urge to cast bubbled up inside him. Silence hung in the room as Snape moved behind the desk but remained standing.

“You are aware, Mister Potter,” he loomed over the small boy, “of the… atrocity that is your current school work, am I correct?”

Harry bit back a sarcastic retort. Maybe of he let Snape say his piece, yell at him, whatever he wanted to do, he would let Harry go sooner. He lowered his head in an attempt to show submission, anything to make Snape let him go sooner.

“Do you think you are exempt from your studies? The great and powerful Harry Potter.” Snape’s voice was laced with sarcasm and contempt. “Are you too good for homework, Mister Potter, is that it? Are you so incredibly talented that you do not need an education?” Snape raised an eyebrow but Harry kept his head down. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy!” He almost yelled. “What thought is running through that imbecilic head of yours that you put your name in the Goblet of Fire? Do you have a death wish?” Harry shuffled his feet under the table. He wasn’t going to bother arguing that he hadn’t done it, that he didn’t know it existed until a few minutes ago. Snape had already said it, though it didn’t seem that he had thought it was the truth when he had.

Harry pondered the thought that he had a death wish for a minute. It was entirely possible, he thought, that he had a subconscious desire to die. He’d gone after Quirrel alone in first year, faced a basilisk alone, again, in second year, and tried to free a possible mass murderer only to find the real murderer in third. So really, he shouldn’t be surprised he’d ended up a Hogwarts Champion, it seemed to fit with his track record. And home, if you could call it that, was not the happiest of places for Harry. He wasn’t thinking that he’d ever try it purposefully, but he had to admit, he might not jump out of the way if a car came hurtling at him.

“Are you listening to me?” Snape hissed. Harry wondered if the man had been talking while he was thinking. He assumed that yes he had, if the look on his face was anything to go by. “I have half a mind to have you expelled; Merlin knows you’ve done enough to deserve it.” Harry jolted then. No, no, no, you can’t expel me! He shouted at Snape mentally. “I fear that, if you were in my house, I would have expelled you years ago for that dreadful flying car incident.” Harry fought against the physical reaction that as trying to break through the surface. He hadn’t used magic and now his body was restless, it needed to do something, even if that something was punching the teacher who could, and would, expel him given half the chance. If Snape ever found out he was using dark magic… he could shudder at the thought. If Snape ever found out, there would be no more magic at all for him. That couldn’t happen.

“I am listening, Professor. You’re right, I have a death wish. I’m arrogant and selfish, can I go now?” Harry said monotonously.

Snape stared at the boy. He was still as pale as he had been on the way down, but he seemed to have stopped sweating. Snape pondered the implications. It could be an addiction; he’d seen it in students before. Pale, sweating, not doing their homework- they were all tell-tale signs that something was wrong. But, he thought, where would Potter, of all people, be getting the drugs? There was a strict control on substances in the school. Anyone even remotely suspected of selling anything illegal immediately had their belongings searched and were expelled should anything be found.  So even if someone has been slipping under the radar, Potter’s status as ‘Saviour of the Wizarding World’, ‘Golden Boy’, and knowing he was close to Dumbledore, would easily have warded anyone off offering him anything. He spent all his time in the Wizarding World in the castle and trips into Hogsmead were heavily regulated and Potter had never gone anywhere during those trips without Miss Granger or Mister Weasley by his side. He doubted either of them would let the boy throw his life away with drugs. That only let muggle drugs. It was the only other explanation Severus could come up with at that point. Harry must have got his hands on some during the summer, used his ungodly amount of money to buy a stash, and brought it to Hogwarts with him. With that conclusion firmly set in mind, he spoke to the boy again.

“No, Mister Potter, you may not. You are to remain here while I fetch the Headmaster and a potion for you to take. You will not move from that exact spot. Do I make myself clear?”

“Professor, I have classes in the morning-“

“You will be excused.” Snape informed him.

“I have homework-” Harry tried to start before Snape cut him off again.

“That hasn’t been a concern for a while now. I’m sure you won’t mind missing another piece.” His gaze lowered until Harry felt it burning holes through his skull. He shifted under the gaze, uncomfortable with the amount of scrutiny the potions master was putting him under.

“Why do you need a potion, sir?” Harry asked as he watched the man walk towards the fireplace in the office, presumably to fire call Dumbledore. Snape ignored the question and called for the Headmaster.

Harry sat in the silence of the room. What could Snape possibly need a potion for? Was it for Harry? But what kind of potion would he need? He hadn’t been injured or sick. There was nothing wrong with him. Nothing that the potions master should know about at any rate. The man hated his guts and Harry was hardly about to let the man find out about what happened when he left for the summer. No, he decided, if Snape had something solid he wouldn’t need a potion or the Headmaster, he could go straight to the Ministry and have me removed from their care and… Harry forced the thought to end. Who was he kidding? Snape would probably think that the Dursley’s were right. He was a brat, and an ungrateful freak one at that. Snape would have absolutely no reason to even attempt to do something about the situation. But that possibility, now it had been put in his mind, was stuck there. He wanted out. Screw waiting until he was old enough for revenge. He wanted out and he wanted out right now.

“Before the Headmaster arrives, is there something you wish to say? Something to explain your behaviour?”

“No, sir.” Harry wasn’t going to give the man anything. He was going to keep his mouth shut until he knew exactly what Snape thought he knew, and he would take it from there.

Snape murmured something that sounded suspiciously like ‘damn Gryffindor brats’ and moved to his supply room. He pulled a phial from a shelf. It was filled with a dark green liquid with a consistency similar to washing up liquid. Harry recoiled at the sight. He’d swallowed washing up liquid before and it hadn’t been a nice occasion. Albus came through the fire place.

The Headmaster looked older than Harry had ever seen him. His wrinkles seemed more pronounced and his eyes lacked their usual sparkle. He looked tired. He looked between his student and his teacher. He caught sight of the small glass bottle in Severus’s hand and shook his head in disbelief.

“Severus, my boy, you can’t honestly be thinking that Harry would…” Dumbledore trailed off, seemingly reluctant to say the world lest it turn out to be true.

“That is exactly what I’m thinking.” Snape confirmed with a sharp nod of his head.

“But the precautions, the spells, it would be next to impossible without our knowledge.” Dumbledore tried to press. He couldn’t have Severus doing this and being right. It would mess everything up. If Severus did this, he doubted that even his hatred of James Potter would get in the way of him caring about the boy, especially if he delved deeper into the situation and looked into Harry’s home life… It couldn’t happen. Dumbledore couldn’t allow it, but by the time is mouth caught up with his brain, Snape had already given the potion to the short, fourth year Gryffindor boy.

Harry was holding it by his fingertips, as far away from his body as he could. He didn’t know what the potion did. Could it be to reveal someone who had been using dark magic? Or was it something else? And if it did reveal dark magic, how new was it? Was it possible that Salazar’s charm wouldn’t be enough to hide his magic? If it was new and something Salazar hadn’t factored into his protective spells then it was a possibility that they could find out.

“What…” Harry swallowed, his nerves creeping up his spine and affecting his ability to speak. “What is it?” Snape loomed over Harry.

“It is a potion, and it will tell us whether or not you are… introducing substances into your body that you shouldn’t.”

Harry replayed the words in his head a few times before he realised what Snape was insinuating. He could have laughed with relief, if it wouldn’t have made him look suspicious.

“You think I’m taking drugs?” He spluttered. Snape just stared at him silently and Dumbledore turned away. “No way!” Harry looked between the two. “Seriously?”

“Take the potion, Mister Potter.” Harry shrugged and swallowed it. It did, in fact, remind him of the time he swallowed washing up liquid, only this didn’t have quite as bitter a taste to it. Actually, it was quite sweet. He swallowed again to try get rid of the feeling of it being stuck in his throat. The faster he got this over with and proved them wrong, the faster he could go to Salazar’s study and read some more, practice some more, and finally, finally, get rid of this restless desperation that was building inside of him.

Minutes passed.

Snape frowned. Nothing was happening. Each potion was linked to a specific piece of parchment in his desk drawer, and the one linked to this potion remained blank. He had been so sure; he’d wanted it to be true, if he was honest. At least if it was, he could have done something about it, could have saved Lily’s son from himself, could have made sure that the last living piece of her didn’t come to unnecessary harm. Now he had nothing. No ideas, no way of finding out what the boy was doing, and with the TriWizard tournament added into the mix, Snape already had a lot of things on his plate to protect the boy from, he did not need an invisible enemy such as the one he was facing.

Dumbledore smiled to himself. He was relieved nothing had come of the test, but it concerned him that Severus was so desperate to help the boy. That would not do. He knew exactly what the boy was doing and he had been the one to push him towards it. If the child was ever going to defeat Voldemort again, as the prophecy said he would, Dumbledore needed him to be as powerful as possible.

“I have said before, Severus, Harry has not changed. He is just acting as he should. I’m surprised it didn’t come sooner, really, finding out that you’re a wizard and about his parents would be a shock to even the best of people. He is merely exploring his new found world, figuring out what it means, what he can and can’t do. We should leave him to it.”

Snape nearly growled at the Headmaster. He did not trust the man’s words or intentions towards Harry. He was training the boy up to being a weapon, Severus was almost sure of it.

“You may leave now, Harry, I’m sure you need to catch up on your sleep after such an exciting day. I hear your house mates have stayed up waiting for you.” Harry nodded and almost ran from the room, down his corridor and through the portrait. He didn’t read that night, he just practiced and cast and blew things up and let his rage take over.