**

“Antidotes!” said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold, black eyes glittering unpleasantly. “You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…”

Shape’s eyes met Harry’s, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him.

–pg 264, The Goblet of Fire

**

Harry carefully stirred in a crushed beetle, pausing his stirring to make sure his fire was right. He couldn’t get this wrong, knowing fully well that he was going to be Snape’s choice when it came to administering the poison. Knowing the greasy git, he’d probably let Harry writhe to death on the floor in front of his classmates if he mucked up the antidote. He could even picture his professor’s sneer as he would callously say, “As you can see class, this is what happens when you don’t have two functioning brain cells to rub together. Let this idiot’s death be a reminder to you that I will not tolerate failure.”

He snorted at the scene playing in his head and stirred his potion rapidly counterclockwise three times before extinguishing the fire beneath his cauldron.

“Since Mr. Potter finds this assignment so amusing-“

Crap.

“-It is only fitting that he should be our test subject.”

Harry stood behind his table, glaring at the potions master with as much ire as he could muster. He glanced down at his cauldron, hesitantly filling a vial with the yellow liquid. Please let this work.

“Front and center, Potter.”

Harry walked to the front of the room, much like someone approaching the gallows. He hoped the slight tremor in his hands was unnoticed by his classmates, though he didn’t dare to look anywhere but at his professor. Please don’t do this to me, please don’t do this to me, please don’t do this to me!

“You will drink the entire contents of this vial, wait until it begins to affect you, and then drink your antidote. If the effects of the poison end, and trust me, I’ll know if they do, you will receive a passing grade. If they do not, you will fail. Should you indeed pass, although I highly doubt it, your final grade will be based on how quickly your antidote takes effect.”

Harry took the vial from his professor’s hand, uncorking it and swallowing it quickly, grimacing at the taste. Immediately he was overcome by pain. He doubled over, panting heavily as it ripped through him, forcing himself not to scream. It felt as if every muscle was being stretched and stabbed, he could barely breathe. As he struggled to bring the antidote vial to his lips, he felt his entire body begin to burn and he nearly dropped the bottle of precious relief as he tried not to spill it with violently shaking hands.

He fell to his hands and knees after swallowing the potion, unable to hold himself upright anymore as he was torn apart by pain. He got the sensation that his bones and skin were stretching and twisting, and he frantically clawed at his skin in an effort to stop the agony he was feeling.

Slowly the pain began to recede. As he lay on the floor, panting heavily, he was aware of the sarcastic laugh of Draco Malfoy, who loudly declared, “It looks like Potter will be getting a zero on this assignment!”

“Sod off Malfoy.” Ron grumbled in response, and as Harry weakly pushed himself up he wondered if that meant Ron was less bitter than he had been since Harry’s name had been pulled from the goblet. Seeing as how Ron then refused to meet his gaze, Harry was once again disappointed.

“Acceptable, I suppose, since you are still alive. Take your seat. Everyone else, prepare your samples and leave them on my desk. After you clean your workstation you are dismissed.”

Harry sat down heavily on the bench, his insides still twisted into knots and his limbs trembling. His leg muscles contracted painfully and he reached down to massage his calf with a wince. He didn’t trust himself to stand and he was more than a little grateful that Hermione offered to return his supplies and take care of his cauldron.

Slowly the class began to file out, but Harry held back, slowly packing his things. He wasn’t sure his aching legs would be able to support him on the first try, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his peers, he had already done enough damage to his ego for the day.

“Are you coming?” Hermione asking, stopping by his desk, “We don’t want to be late.”

“Just a second…I’ll meet you there.”

Harry shakily stood, relieved that he didn’t immediately fall back into his seat. Lifting his bag onto his aching shoulders, he wondered how long it would be before he felt completely normal again. He should have known Snape would give him something painful and degrading, something he’d suffer with for awhile. It was no secret that the professor hated him and loved to see him miserable.

“Mr. Potter?”

Harry looked up at his professor, his senses dulled by the intensifying pain. As his muscles cramped once more, he began to wonder why the pain was getting worse? Shouldn’t it be gradually improving? Crap. He was going to have to admit that his antidote was less than stellar and he would get a failing grade. He exhaled slowly, his lungs burning. At least no one was around to see the verbal lashing he was about to get from Snape.

“Potter?”

Harry could hear the professor talking, but for the life of him he couldn’t make out what he was saying. The room grew hazy and he grimaced as another wave of pain swept through him.

“Honestly, Potter, when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse…I should have known you could bring more misery to an already abysmal day. Do tell me what sort of half-brained recipe you created in a pathetic attempt to brew an antidote?”

Harry took in a shuddering breath, unable to speak as he tried his hardest just to breathe. He managed a weak groan just before losing his battle with consciousness, and instead of getting the answer he was looking for, Snape was rewarded with the limp body of his most irritating student.

**

Severus crossed his arms, giving a scathing look to Madame Pomfrey as she fussed over Harry while reading Severus the riot act.

“Really, Severus, is it necessary to make them test their own potions without you testing their efficiency first?”

Severus scowled, “If he had mentioned that he was still feeling poorly after taking the antidote, I could have corrected the situation before it came to this point.”

“What have you done for him?”

“Bezoar, then I brought him up here.”

“Do you know what was in his potion? If he’s in any discomfort when he wakes up I’ll need to know what I can and can’t give him.”

Severus shook his head, “He was unconscious before I was able to get any answers. I noticed Granger was helping him clean up his work area, so I contacted Minerva to excuse her from class, she’s on her way here.”

As if on cue, the door burst open and Hermione ran in breathlessly, “How is he?”

“He will recover,” Poppy said in her usual businesslike manner, “Professor Snape and I were discussing Harry’s potion, and we were wondering if you could tell us some of the ingredients Harry was working with.”

“If you could give Madame Pomfrey a list, she can determine what sort of healing potions will be safe to administer to Mr. Potter. I shall be in my office, Poppy, trying to analyze Mr. Potter’s submission. Please keep me informed.”

Without sparing another glance to the distraught teenager or stern healer, Severus turned on his heel and moved to the floo. Once seated at his desk, he carefully lifted a sample of Harry’s potion with a frown. The poison itself wasn’t lethal; it had the ability to cause a tremendous amount of pain, but it was easily remedied with no lasting effects. By all accounts, Harry should have been fine after his antidote, seeing as how his potion had been a pale yellow, indicative of rosemary, ash and crushed beetle, which should have neutralized all aspects of the poison. The bezoar would have neutralized any remaining poison, which left no logical explanation that he remained in the hospital wing, unconscious.

He wasn’t a fan of Harry Potter, but he had never had a student die on his watch and he wasn’t about to start now. As idiotic as the boy was for not admitting that he was still suffering after taking his antidote, as a potions master and professor he should have carefully checked the boy afterwards for any signs of distress. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that the poison had affected him much worse than it should have, and he hadn’t warned Harry of what was normal and what was a cause for concern. Maybe if he had acted quicker he could have gotten a proper antidote into the boy before his system went into shock.

He looked up as his floo roared and Poppy’s head came through, “Harry’s awake.”

“I’m coming through.”

Severus stepped foot into the hospital wing, surprised to see the Granger girl gone. He quickly strode to Harry’s bed, a frown on his face as he took in the boy’s pale features.

“Welcome back to the world of the living, Mr. Potter.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry murmured, looking anywhere but at the professor, his face red with shame.

Severus frowned, crossing his arms, “Whatever for? I long ago stopped being disappointed when you manage to botch a relatively easy assignment.”

Harry remained silent, and Severus continued haughtily, “Or for your failure to mention you were still suffering from the effects of the poison and putting your life into jeapordy? Or perhaps for wasting my time during my free period?”

“For all of that.” Harry mumbled, his words barely audible to the professor, whose gaze narrowed at his words.

“Nonsense, I should have anticipated how foolish you are and prepared accordingly.”

The surprise was clear on Harry’s face and Severus smirked, liking that he was still able to completely take his students off guard. He pulled out his wand, doing a quick diagnostic scan, “There are only trace amounts of poison left in your system, are you in any discomfort?”

“No sir.”

“Are you certain?”

Harry mumbled an affirmative response as his eyes began to drift closed once more. Severus frowned at the sleeping boy, growing more concerned. There was no reason the boy should be so tired, none of the ingredients he had been able to discern from Harry’s potion were sedatives. He was still staring intently at the boy when Poppy walked up beside him, handing him a sheet of parchment.

“Belladonna.” She said quietly, “One of the ingredients Miss Granger listed. He may be out for awhile.”

Severus turned to her in surprise, “What sort of idiot would add belladonna to this sort of mixture?” glancing back at the sleeping Gryffindor, he sighed heavily, “Of course, the boy lives to drive me insane.”

“I think you’re overreacting.” Poppy chastised, “If you’re going to make a student test the effectiveness of their own antidotes, you should at least verify their components beforehand. He’s just a student, you can’t expect perfection.”

“I most certainly can, improperly brewed potions can cause serious injury or death.” Severus snapped, “Even a first year should have known better than to add belladonna.”

Poppy shook her head, her lips set in a thin line, “Would you like me to notify you once he’s awake and released?”

“I think I’ll stay with him for awhile.” Severus stated, the surprise on the mediwitch’s face matching his own inward reaction at his declaration, “He’ll likely be confused when he wakes…unfortunate side effects of this combination.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Severus.” Poppy replied, her tone worried.

Severus smirked, summoning a chair, “Me? Be hard on a Gryffindor?”

With a bemused smile, Poppy shook her head once again, quietly retreating to her office. Severus watched her leave before turning his attention back to the boy in front of him, waiting for him to wake once more.