I Don't Want to be a Hero - Ch. 17

Homework

Severus Snape, in all his years as a student, a teacher, and then a spy always seemed to be at a loss when dealing with Albus Dumbledore. He was an old man, and Severus admitted to a childish desire that the old man would live forever because, contrary to popular belief he did care for the man. He would not say that he loved Albus like a father; there were many times when he simply despised the man, but when he had needed Albus Dumbledore, truly needed him in order to get away from evil, the old wizard had been there. Make no mistake, Albus had been hard on Severus, condescending, manipulative, and disappointed in him, but it was Albus that had pulled him from the Dark into the Light.

Over the years there had been many times when the two men disagreed, old prejudices between Gryffindor and Slytherin had come up, and Albus had even hurt him. Despite all of that Severus cared for Albus and these last few weeks had troubled the younger man greatly.

Of all the wizards and witches in the wizarding world Albus was undeniably the oldest wizard alive. Severus feared that Dementia, a known Muggle disease of the elderly, had found its way to Albus.

Albus held a very strong place of power in their world. He held great influence with the Ministry and the Wizengamot, and he was also the power behind the Order of the Phoenix. It worried Severus that Albus was making decisions based on a prophecy that the old wizard himself had declared as foolish nearly 20 years ago.

Severus could kick himself in that these bad decisions had begun with the tragic deaths of the Potters. He, and the other members in the Order had understood that Albus had hidden the Potter boy simply to keep him safe from the many followers, and Death Eaters that had escaped justice. Nothing had even been intimated at there might be a prophecy, and Severus was not the one to have overheard part of that prophecy; it had been the sensitive Regulus Black. Regulus who had been trying to find a way to get away from the Dark Lord and knew that Voldemort had a strong belief in prophecy hoped that the prophecy would hold a key that he could exploit for his freedom. It was during a meeting of the Dark Lord and his elite Death Eaters when Regulus had related the scrap of prophecy he had overheard.

That fateful night had sealed the disappearance of Regulus, and the deaths of the Potters including their young son that Voldemort believed would someday kill him.

Now it seemed Albus had bought into the prophecy, and possibly longer than the few weeks Severus had thought; Albus may have believed those damned words as far back as when Harry parents met their deaths.

Severus leaned over so his elbows rested on his knees as he firmly massaged his temples. Harry. Harry was caught in the path of a derailed train, or a mind not as sharp as it once was. Harry was in danger.

The chiming ward to his corridor door touched his thoughts and drew Professor Snape away from the turmoil of his mind. Seconds later Harry’s polite knock sounded on the door. He roused himself, and opened the door with the expectation of seeing Harry but with him was Draco Malfoy. Puzzled, he ushered both boys in, and wondered where the two lumbering bookends, Crabbe and Goyle were.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," greeted Malfoy. "I sent Crabbe and Goyle back to the common room after Harry invited me to do homework with him."

"Invited you, Mr. Malfoy?" The Slytherin Head of House inquired silkily.

Harry nodded. "I sort of got lost and ran into Draco so I asked him to help me find you. Then, well... I was sort of hoping he could do homework with me until I have to take my potion."

You were not lost, Mr. Potter, mused the wizard to himself. Harry had been to his home twice, and he knew precisely where to find his teacher. And now, he seemed quite friendly to the most influential Pureblood child in Slytherin. What a clever, and devious boy. Whatever are you up to, Mr. Potter?

"Two hours for homework, Misters Potter and Malfoy, and then the both of you will assist in brewing the Cruciatus After-Effects Relief Potion."

Harry glanced at Draco and smiled, "See? Told you that name was too long."

Draco giggled. Actually giggled as he replied, "Just saying the name and you'd be spewing tremors."

"Hmph," grunted Professor Snape. Both boys looked up at him, their smiles and giggles gone; at least temporarily. "Get to work. And, might I remind you, Mr. Malfoy, you have yet to do the essay on your wand. I suggest you work on it this evening."

"Yes, sir," nodded Draco. He allowed Harry to tug him towards the coffee table where the Boy-Who-Lived-Reluctantly dropped his notes from Hermione. Professor Snape sent parchment, ink and quills to the table. A moment later followed Harry's text books. Lastly Professor Snape ordered tea from an elf who popped in momentarily.

"What essay, Draco?" asked Harry quietly as he unrolled Hermione's thorough notes.

"On my wand," he replied just as quietly. "Professor Snape has all of us first years do an essay on our wands so we know what the wood, the core means, and what it can do. Does McGonagall make you do anything like that?" Draco leaned forward for a quill, an ink bottle, and parchment.

Harry shook his head. "Not that I've heard. Professor Flitwick told me a really interesting story about my wand. It would be neat to know more."

Draco took out his wand. "Well, why don't you do an essay and give it to Professor Snape?"

Harry turned to view his teacher. "Can I do that, sir?"

"May you do what, Mr. Potter?" corrected, and asked Professor Snape as he perused the small bookshelf in his sitting room.

"May I do an essay for you on my wand like Draco's doing on his? Sir?"

"You may, if you wish, Mr. Potter. However, your reading for Transfiguration, Potions, and for History of Magic must take precedence." Harry smiled as he looked forward to learning more about his wand. The teacher selected two books from his library, and brought them to the two boys. "Mr. Malfoy, I believe you will find this helpful in learning about your wand," he handed the slim volume to the Slytherin. "Mr. Potter, I suggest you pay attention to chapters 13 and 24 for more information on the Grave Tree, and on Unicorn Blessings. Tea will arrive forthwith so begin reading."

Professor Snape retired to his comfortable chair as both boys quieted themselves, and worked. Once in awhile he heard the scratching of quill to parchment. When tea arrived he sent cups of golden tea laced with basil to clarify the mind for work, and a touch of honey to sweeten it. Each boy also received one, small treacle tart.

Two hours went by, swiftly it seemed for both boys, and Professor Snape was telling them to put their work away, and then to follow him to the lab. All three worked on the potion until Draco finally broke the silence.

"Harry, my father told me it was my insane Aunt Bellatrix that hurt you."

Harry looked up in shock at his new friend. "The crazy witch is related to you?"

Draco nodded miserably. He did think Purebloods were superior because his mother Narcissa had told him that it was so. And, a small part of him thought he ought to believe Voldemort, but then there was Aunt Bellatrix who always wanted to hurt people. She was from a VERY long, Pureblood line of… crazy people. At first he thought his father might be happy that Bellatrix tortured the Boy-Who-Lived but then he realised that his father had been angry that Bellatrix, who had been on the run since the fall of the Dark Lord, had kidnapped Harry. It made Draco feel a bit sick when he had the epiphany that the Cruciatus After-Effects Relief Potion was for Harry BECAUSE he had been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse by his mad aunt.

"I'm sorry about that, Harry," he tried not to show any tears but a sniffle did escape him.

Harry stopped what he was doing. "Draco! That wasn't your fault so don't apologise. I've got a crazy aunt, too, and thank goodness she doesn't know magic!"

"Why?" asked Draco guilelessly.

Harry lowered his voice, "My Aunt Petunia hates me and she hits me a lot. Not even my Uncle Vernon or my cousin Dudley hits me."

"Well," brightened Draco. "You got a wand now so you can hex her!"

Harry smiled. Magic could be good for him.

Just before 10 of the clock Harry was preparing for bed. Professor Snape had tried to send Draco back to his common room but he was being particularly stubborn.

"What's the potion do?" asked Draco. There was a slight tinge of worry in his tone. This sudden concern for someone he had only met a few hours ago puzzled Snape. Still, Draco did want to know what the potion did, and if Harry would be all right.

"It accelerates the process to rid the body of all of the Cruciatus after-effects so that Harry will not suffer from them when he is older. It is a hard process and so I have Harry near me so that I may monitor, and be certain, that all progresses as it should." Harry climbed into his makeshift bed on the sofa and drew the covers up to his ear. Professor Snape touched the boy’s messy haired head. "He will be fine."

“I really will,” echoed Harry. “I’ve done this two nights before.” He stuck his head out from under the soft blankets. "Professor Snape and Iare having breakfast here tomorrow. Would you have breakfast with us, Draco?" invited Harry.

Draco liked the idea, but would his teacher permit such a thing? "I... uhm... Professor Snape?"

"We shall celebrate with breakfast here... in my quarters," nodded the elder wizard. "I think, though, that your other two friends ought to be invited, Mr. Potter so that they, too, may embrace Mr. Malfoy as a friend."

Both Harry and Draco held their breaths for a second. Harry then replied, "Hermione might be okay, but I think Ron just might go spare."

"Yeah," sighed Draco with heavy reserve. "Malfoys and the Weasleys have never really liked each other."

"Nevertheless," declared their teacher with decision, "Mr. Malfoy, you and Mr. Weasley will learn the merits of the cessation of hostilities. You will become... allies." Professor Snape touched the tow-headed boy's back. "Come along, Mr. Malfoy. Allow me to escort you to Slytherin House." They both turned to the door that led out into the corridor. "Harry, I shall not be gone long. Go to sleep if you feel the need to."

"Okay, sir. G'night, Draco!" Harry called happily. He had succeeded in making a third friend.