Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: I do not own JK Rowling’s world or plotlines. I do own my own plotlines and since this is being written about things JK has not yet published, most of the plotline is mine. However, my brilliant sister inspired the story, and I lovingly thank her for her contribution.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Concerns

“Sometimes it hurts less to just ignore it. Sometimes it’s better to let the pain drift away. All I want is to let myself go, to say what I want, do what I need to, and to be able stand up and not have to pretend anymore. But who ever cared what I wanted.”

-Harry Potter

Tuesday

His eyes rolled back from the pain. His mouth hung open in the endless shriek of silent agony. Gasps and garbled begging slipped between the screams. The red eyes before him, glittered in amusement. Each fiber of his being howled and fought to beat the pain, only to find it was an unsurpassable mountain looming before him and laughing with the scarlet eyes.

Slowly, torturously, his vision slipped out of his own body to look down at the twisting form that curled and tossed over the stone floor. The pain was still with him, even when he’s out of his own body.

He stared at the eyes, begging for release. Then, with a deranged ferocity, the eyes changed. Crimson turned to a pale cerulean and twinkled.

His throat constricted. “Traitor.”, A voice whispered.

The eyes turned gray, “Traitor.”

Brown, feminine. “Traitor.” Emerald Green. “Traitor.” Hazel. “Traitor.” Blue. Black. Gray. Silver. Green. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.

Traitor.

Scarlet, and serpentine. “Crucio.”

He opened his mouth and screamed while his mind flooded with the overwhelming torture of a simple spell.

Pain. All that was left was the pain of that word. Pain unlike what he had—

“Wake up Harry.”

Harry rolled over and moaned. “Neville?”

“Yes, now get up, it’s almost time for class.”

“What class?”

“Early morning Herbology. I’m an aid for Professor Sprout. Here I brought down your trunk, I couldn’t get it open, so I shrank it down for you to deal with. Stand up and I can do a cleaning charm. Did you sleep outside, Harry?”

Harry managed to stand, and felt his body scrubbed down by a hundred small brushes. “I think so, I’m not sure.” Neville started muttering charms too fast for Harry to recognize them, until the last one hit. It was an anti-inebriation charm. The spell should be used for drunkards and would successfully clear almost anyone’s mind.

Abruptly, Harry registered everything that was happening, and panicked. “Neville, if anyone sees you—”

“Don’t worry, Harry. I cast a disillusionment charm on myself.”

Harry turned and blinked. “When did you—”

“Over the summer. Everyone else sees Professor Snape assigning you detention. By the way, you missed yours with McGonagall last night. She was somewhat less than pleased. Here open up your trunk and get changed. We only have ten minutes. Sorry I couldn’t find you breakfast, but I have to be in the greenhouses before five.”

Neville is far too perky in the early morning.

He got dressed and Neville nodded, “I’ll see you in a few minutes Harry. Greenhouse two.” And then he jogged away.

>=====<

By the time Harry had finished NEWT Defense that afternoon, his own arm was beginning to look strangely appetizing. But then again so was the wall. He had missed last night’s dinner, today’s breakfast and lunch and he would almost certainly miss dinner thanks to detention with McGonagall.

Professor Demival had called Hermione and Ron up to help with the demonstrations after glaring passionately at Harry. His response had been to send Dean Thomas, his dueling partner, to the hospital in a matchbox. The shrinking spell had gotten slightly out of hand. Of course, it had done exactly what Harry had wanted it to do, but that was beside the point. Dean was currently a centimeter tall, and Harry had ‘accidentally’ made him immune to the countercurse.

Harry snuck into the library beneath his invisibility cloak and quietly stole a book on transfiguration. The self-updating book of laws was already checked out though.

He slipped down to the lower levels of the school, not quite to the dungeons, but pushing the limits. A small alcove greeted him, and he decided it was as good a place as any. Leaning against the wall, he shed the cloak and opened the first book, reading the section on transfiguration in the kitchen. Unfortunately, it was useless for his needs. Transfiguring a potato into a tomato was pointless since he didn’t have a potato, changing the size of a pot was moot, and adjusting the type of cheese was difficult without any cheese. Banishing the book back to the library, while enjoying the image of the book hitting Madame Pince’s head, Harry let his mind wander.

The dream that morning still baffled him. It was a dream and a vision at the same time. Pain in Voldemort’s Crucio had been present, but the odd changes of the eyes... He shuddered. It had to be a dream. Nothing else was worth mentioning or remembering.

His stomach growled loudly, but he flatly ignored it. There was nothing he could do. Even if he went to the Great Hall after his detention, Gryffindor house would have courageously removed every bit of food from every table. Hell, the other houses would help. He could hear a group of students heading towards potions so he put his cloak back on, and kept thinking.

>=====<

Thursday

>=====<

Severus Snape watched the Dark Lord’s eyes through the meeting. Whenever he spoke about Potter, they glinted darkly. Death Eaters began to step forward, giving their reports. None of it was important, only information confirming things even the Daily Prophet knew.

He waited calmly for his name, and when it was called, he maintained his character. “Severus, dear spy, what have you ascertained about the boy’s state?”

“He is weakened both physically and emotionally due to his abandonment. He is temperamental, and is antagonizing his own house further. Dumbledore has designed his schedule to be nearly impossible to survive. It is an accepted fact that he will receive punishment for the smallest infractions. Currently they are looking for a way to remove him from the Quidditch team, of which he is currently captain. My Lord, given time, he will be torn apart by his former followers, and your victory will be assured.”

“Have you succeeded in extracting the contents of the prophecy from the boy’s mind?”

“I hope to have by the end of two weeks.”

Red eyes stared into his, and the Dark Lord hissed softly. Nagini wrapped and twisted herself around Severus’ ankles, but stayed upright and met eyes through his mask. “Do not fail me Severus.”

“Never, my Lord.”

“Then would you support my playing with the boy a bit first?”

“Whole-heartedly.”

>=====<

Defense Against the Dark Arts, his best subject, and formerly his favorite had been lovingly renamed Purgatory. He would have liked to name it Hell, but that was reserved for Transfiguration where McGonagall had already extended his detention to two weeks, never telling him more than that he ‘broke the law.’

As Harry was quickly learning, he broke Article one, Section three of the Traitor by Association Act a lot. After careful deduction, he had established that Article one dealt solely with his crimes, the rest had to do with the sins of others. You know Padfoot; I think that this mystery rule I’m breaking has something to do with the fact that I’m alive. So, that’s an easy fix. I kick the bucket and can finally stop receiving detention. If I don’t stop soon I’m going to beat you and Dad’s record. Can’t have that now, can we?

The bell rang and he slipped out.

Since arriving at the school Sunday night, Harry had managed a daily caloric intake approximately equal to a rice cake. Though he was carrying around a water bottle, it was only water. His hands were shaking at a disturbing rate, but the only person to notice so far had been Millicent, and she, Slytherin as she was, had not commented, only asked if she might ‘have more practice cutting the ingredients.”

He couldn’t even step into the Great Hall without receiving death threats and detention. So, no matter how much he wanted to punch Ron, skip detention, run around the school in a kilt screaming and giving people Dark Mark tattoos on their foreheads—in atomic pink and with a permanent sticking charm—he would not risk losing his chance for revenge.

Despite long hours in the library by most of the teaching staff, they had yet to find a way to remove him from the position of Captain. Tryouts were tonight, immediately after his two-hour detention, which was where he was now headed.

The hour between class and detention was devoted to whatever homework he could manage while sitting in his standard unused classroom.

Halfway through his Transfiguration essay, and at a point where his own arm was starting to look strangely appetizing, the door slammed open behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were having nightmares again?” Snape shouted the second he was inside.

“Hello, Sir. Can this wait a moment, I’d like to finish my thought.”

“To hell with your thought, answer me, Potter.” Ooh, look, I’m ‘Potter’ again.

“I didn’t tell you because my bad dreams are not your concern.”

“They are when the Dark Lord is the one crafting them.”

Harry stopped fully and dropped his quill. “He’s what?”

“The Dark Lord has been breaking into your mind, finding out what hurts you the most and is using it against you in the form of a nightmare. He knows that he is not what scares you or hurts you the most, so he isn’t using it. What is he using?”

Silence. His headache, a persistent one, reemerged.

Harry stood up and stumbled over to his bag by the wall, pulled out his water, and drained half of it. As he stumbled back again, he felt his knees tremble. Blood rushed into his head and the world went temporarily black.

He came back and found himself in a chair, Severus sneering down his long nose at him. “Vision?” Harry shook his head.

I wonder if Snape would mind if I ate his clothing off of him… Eww. Bad mental image.

An odd look replaced the sneer, and Severus asked softly, “When was the last time you ate?”

“I had a few bites of sandwich on Monday.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m can’t manage to get into the great hall, my schedule has me skipping meals two days a week, the house elves don’t like me and food transfiguration has to be done on another piece of food. Basically my only option is cannibalism, but I doubt that killing and eating Ron would help my public appearance.”

“Stay here.” Harry watched him walk out of the room, and waited. If there was any justice in the world, the man would return with a huge platter of food. Steak and eggs, a salad maybe. Pumpkin juice, chocolate frogs, toffee. Coffee. Chicken, a turkey, a loaf of bread. Cake, pie, chips, pizza, soup, stew, casserole, fish, bacon, ham, strudel, pancakes…

Severus reentered.

There is no justice.

He held out a small vial and curtly gestured for him to drink. It stuck as it climbed down his throat, leaving an aftertaste that reminded him of burnt hair. It certainly wasn’t food. He reached for his water.

“Wait, don’t drink that yet.”

“Why? You just gave me something I wouldn’t feed to my dog—well, if I had a dog, and no, Sirius doesn’t count.” Harry’s eyes went wide. The water bottle in his hand wasn’t sloshing. His mind was vaguely clear. He no longer felt like he might blow away on a strong breeze. The shaking was gone, and his energy was back. “What was that?”

“A special form of energy potion of my own invention. It serves as both food and energy. I will see that you receive the appropriate book.”

“Where am I supposed to brew it?”

“That is not my concern. More importantly, have you been sleeping?”

“Oh, yes, wonderfully. A few brief hours comprised of nightmares fashioned by my enemy, and waking up to find my things vandalized. It’s very refreshing.”

“Then don’t sleep there.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep then?”

“That is not my concern.” He repeated.

“Useful aren’t you?”

“Indeed. I will send the book, along with any I can locate regarding the mark on your hand as soon as I find them. Until then you are to practice as you did over the summer. Pack your things, you have to report to detention.”

>=====<

Harry grinned at his reflection and left the changing room. He was finally back on his own terrain. If he had one talent left in the world, one thing that no one could deny, it was Quidditch.

There were two beater positions and three chaser positions to fill. He had no idea who could take them, but had decided not to try and replace Ron as another changed position meant more trouble.

He was about to step out when Neville appeared beside him. “Harry, the teachers found a clause in the school code that they can use to remove you from the team.”

“What?”

“If they can find someone who is clearly better suited to the seeker position, then they have the right to replace you, ‘for the good of the team.’ Every Gryffindor second year and up is out there right now. Even Dennis Creevy.”

“Neville! Where’d you go?”

Both sets of eyes went wide and Neville spun away, but before he could leave, Harry had grabbed his arm. “Nev, they know that I’m in here. If you go out there unscathed, you know what they’ll think.”

“So why can’t I just let them think that? My family wants to help you. There are a thousand little things I could do that could help, none of them are even combat.” Neville stared emphatically. “Please Harry.”

“No. If any one were to find out that you don’t hate me you would be in an even worse situation than I’m in right now.”

“At least they let you eat in Azkaban.” Neville muttered. “Fine, do whatever it is you have planned, but I am going to see you eat. If a meal shows up in your bag, it’ll probably be from me.”

Harry smirked. “Look at that, the Gryffindor Klutz grew up.” He deliberately uses Neville’s self-description. “Sorry ‘bout this mate. Diffindo.” And Neville’s robes shredded.

The blonde stared at the trick, shocked, but resisting a chuckle. “Bonus points for creativity. Seeya later.” He walked out of the hall, and Harry listened the conversation on the pitch.

“-just attacked me for no reason!”

“Of course there was a reason; he’s evil!”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Evil people do this stuff, but he probably did it because you announced you were against him after supporting him for a bit. I bet that stuck. Good job.” Ron was cheering Neville on, though Harry heard Hermione repair the clothing. “Don’t feel embarrassed, Nev. You took one for the team. Besides, it’s just Potter, he can’t do anything really bad.”

“No, I guess I can’t do anything really bad, can I, Ron?” Harry left the hall and smiled with faux innocence.

“You little—”

Harry brushed passed him with a cocky smile and shouted. “Everyone here for the Chaser positions go to the other end of the field, our current Keeper will join you momentarily. Everyone after a Beater position take a seat for a minute, I’ll be speaking to you soon. Everyone who’s here to challenge the current Seeker, also known as myself, stay where you are.” Half a dozen people went off towards the other side, Nine people sat down and Harry was left with almost thirty people left staring at him. He gave curt instructions to Ron, who scowled, but followed them and then Harry turned to the Seeker-hopefuls.

“Put yourselves in alphabetical order then. If you don’t have a broom, find one, steal one, borrow one, or share with a friend. If you take my position, then congratulations, but if you can’t remember my record to date, I have lost one game of Quidditch that I was present for, and in that one, I was attacked while chasing the snitch.” He waited a few seconds while they moved into order. He counted them quickly, twenty-eight. “Count off by seven. Good, now split up into those groups. Each group will start by doing a quick trial. Whoever catches the snitch in the group will be moved up, and then all of the winners will play against me. After the snitch is released, you lot will wait one minute before having at it. Give a shout if you catch it. Team one, get out there. You lot, have a seat.”

For the next hour as the light disappeared entirely, Harry hovered on his broom, watching the tryouts. He ignored the seekers altogether, only bothering to release the snitch for the next team. Instead, he studied the chasers and beaters, whom he had set up during a particularly long snitch-hunt. It looked like the Beaters were going to be Andrew Kirke again, who had vastly improved, and a second year, Natalie Macdonald who was demonstrating a disturbing amount of strength.

The Chasers though, were going to be a bit of a problem, Ginny was fantastic, and even Harry, who desperately wanted to remove all Weasleys from the team, had to admit it. Unfortunately she was the only one who showed any talent. Ron caught the quaffle every time, and it seemed to have been dropped several times.

Harry shook his head and turned as he heard a shout. Neville was holding up the snitch. Pretending he was angry, but actually shocked and surprised, Harry called all of the successful Seekers together, and told them to take a quick break. He flew to the others and stopped them as well. “We need judges for this round of the Seeker challenges.”

“Who are the others positions going to be?” A daring seventh year shouted.

“I’ll announce that later, after this is done, now move.”

Harry knew that the evil visage he had been projecting over the past several days was a little thinner at the moment, but couldn’t stop it. He was doing something he loved, and the happiness that flooded his mind had to be shown.

Maybe if the school saw him smiling, or happy they might trust him some. He jerked his head and berated himself. No, if the school saw you smiling they would assume that you had just killed someone and a new article would be published. The only way to be safe to make them think that I am evil, that way I won’t be challenged.

He flew to the center with the seven others, and waited for Ron to join them. Neville, a second year girl he didn’t recognize, Seamus, a seventh year boy, Hermione of all people, Parvati Patil, and the greatest shock of all, Colin Creevy. The number of students in his year was a bit disturbing, but, as he recalled, his first year team was comprised of himself, Wood, and five third years. It could be worse.

With a smirk, he nodded for Ron to release the Snitch. A small timer appeared in the center of the circle, and began counting down. The watching crowd started counting down at ten, but the competitors were silent.

Harry’s quietly hissed conversation with his father might have had something to do with it.

The timer hit zero, vanished, and Harry shot upwards. So did everyone else. He glanced around for a few seconds, and then dove. It was a suicidal move, but he was watching the other players, those that had followed his lead. Near the ground he held out a hand for a brief second, then put it back to his broom, pulled out of the dive, and shot skyward again, this time with a flicker of gold resting in his palm.

He waited a few seconds to see if anyone noticed, then smirked. Hermione was lying on the ground, failing to pull out of the dive fast enough. The seventh year had landed next to her and was checking her health, a bit to closely for Ron’s taste actually. Everyone else was still with him, but unaware.

Smirking with a vengeance, Harry thought, Playtime, and took off, others hot in pursuit. He started towards the far goals, first spiraling up the pole, the peeling away, flattening against his broom and slipping through the goal hoop. A quick glance behind saw Colin, Seamus, and Neville following. Parvati had misjudged the size of the hoop, and the second year was sitting on the ground unharmed.

Harry continued the game. Over the pitch, around the pitch, rocketing into the air, diving down, skirting the stadium towers, twists, spins, turning on a dime, upside down, sideways, backwards, racing, and loops. Seamus had given up at the break-neck speed obstacle course of a race beneath the pitch.

Finally, Harry, heart hammering, stopped at the center of the field and held up the snitch. Ron’s shouted invective summed up the general feeling of the watchers. McGonagall stepped down, even though Harry had had no idea she was there, from the stands and walked out to him. “Mr. Potter, when did you catch the snitch?”

“At the bottom of the first dive.”

Her lips tightened so far he thought that they might disappear, and then whispered “Very well, captain.”

Smiling, he turned to the crowd, “Judges, does my talent far surpass any others in the house?” Grudgingly they answered no. He continued, “Then lets move on to the new team members. Weasley if you would be so kind as to join me.” Ron flew to his side. “Come down and join us when I call you. In the Beater positions will be fourth year Andrew Kirke, and second year Natalie MacDonald.” Applause for them echoed for a few moments. “In the Chaser positions will be fifth year Ginny Weasley, sixth year Neville Longbottom, and fifth year Colin Creevy. Colin will also be the back-up Seeker, should I be unable to play.” Which is a high possibility considering my record. “And his back-up Chaser will be Seamus Finnigan. Everyone, else, well done, but not quite. And for everyone who turned out to challenge me, I’m honored that I require so much attention. Team, I’ll post the schedule.”

With that, he summoned his things and returned to the school, still on his Firebolt, and with a bewildered house left behind him.

>=====<

“He did well today.”

“Yes, very well actually.”

“We need to tell him.”

“We can’t and you know it. When he needs to know he will. It was set up that way.”

“But if we—”

There was a knock. Lupin vanished into a side room where he could specially apparate, and Severus opened the door.

Harry Potter waited a moment, then coolly said, “Your note told me you had the book. I’d like to have it now so I can begin on the potion.”

Severus handed him the small book, and nodded at his robes, “What happened?”

“Quidditch Tryouts. I’m still captain.”

“Yes I know. Your Head of House was…displeased with the others. Have you found a secondary location to sleep in?”

“Yes I have, several in fact.”

“Where?”

“That is not your concern.”

The boy becomes more Slytherin every day. We can only hope he keeps some trace of what he was. “Then I will not inquire after it again. Come in, I have things you may wish to know.”

“What?”

“Lucius has fallen out of the Dark Lord’s favor. His son is being tainted by association. There is a great opportunity for you in that regard. There have been nineteen deaths in the last six days, eleven of which were muggles, four were aurors, three were wizards, and one was a death eater, MacNair. The Traitor by Association Act has imprisoned three families, and is questioning two more. The law will be lengthened some time next week. The Longbottoms have not been questioned and have begun a personal mission to “destroy” you. An American witch by the name of Alstance has arrived at St. Mungo’s and released a statement to the press saying that she hopes to have a cure within the year.”

Harry sighed and leaned against a desk. “By any chance, do you know where Lupin disappeared to?”

“The southern part of Ireland.”

“Thank you, but I need to go rest now.”

“Where?”

Harry turned, smirked, and walked way without answering.


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