“It's still not working.” Potter said.
Severus turned to him, he was expecting Potter to mention the last memory but he hasn't so far. He gave the boy a curt nod. “Which memory were you using?, Mr. Potter.”
“The same one. It worked the first time.” Potter said with a shrug.
“Perhaps, you should use a stronger memory.” He suggested. “Potter, you can cast a Patronus charm, correct?”
“Yeah, Remus taught me, before you got him kicked out of Hogwarts.” Potter replied, snidely.
Severus stamped the urge to tell the brat-who-lived, why exactly a werewolf shouldn't have been permitted to step a foot inside Hogwarts in the first place. It wouldn’t be wise to argue with the boy, when he had finally started to co-operate. He could give the boy a piece of his mind once they were out of the blasted snow globe.
“Which memory do you use for Patronus charm?” he asked instead.
“The one in which Hagrid told me that I am a Wizard.” Potter replied hesitantly.
Severus frowned. “Hagrid told you? You didn't know you were a Wizard?”
“I didn't know until Hagrid told me when he came to give me my acceptance letter.” Potter replied.
“You mean you didn’t know about it until you turned eleven? Petunia didn’t mention anything about your magical lineage prior to that?” Severus asked, incredulously.
“No.” Potter replied. “ She didn’t want anyone to know that her nephew was a freak.” Severus barely managed to hold back a flinch at the last word which seemed like an echo of his own father's. “She doesn’t like Wizards.” Potter explained. “Guess you knew about that before I did” he said, referring to one of Severus's memories.
Severus snorted, of course he did. Petunia had often called him a freak. She hadn't held back about her opinion on magic, going as far as bad mouthing her own magically gifted sister…. And now Lily's son. He wondered if she would have mellowed out a bit if her own son would have turned out to be a muggleborn Wizard.
“Alright Mr. Potter, use that memory, if it’s strong enough to conjure a Patronus then it should work.” Severus said looking away from Potter and towards the Christmas tree.
“It isn't.” Potter announced. “ Strong enough, I mean, ….Happy enough.” He hesitated, then, “Not anymore.” He added quietly.
“If you can conjure up the memory then it doesn't matter. We will feel the same emotions as you did in that moment.” He replied without looking at the boy. Severus had a few good memories which had gradually turned sour. He knew what exactly Potter meant by 'Not anymore'.
The snow covered ground disappeared from under their feet. Severus barely managed to hold back a yelp, beside him Potter couldn't. Severus looked down and gulped, they were floating fifty feet above the ground.
“Whoa!” Potter exclaimed next to him. He was looking around excitedly. Severus wasn’t excited in the least, he despised flying with a broom, he despised it more without a broom.
“Potter, stop gawking and do what you are supposed to do.” He said through gritted teeth. He wondered what would happen if he tried to walk in the sky, would he plummet to the ground fifty feet below him.
They were surrounded by Gryffindor and Slytherin quidditch team. He looked around and found every eye in the stands trained their way. He saw his own self in the stands watching the quidditch match, Professor Quirrell was sitting right behind him. Severus looked away from him when he heard a swish-swash sound. Right in front of him an eleven year old Harry Potter's broom gave a sudden lurch and Severus's stomach lurched along with it.
Potter's broom was jerking around violently. He held on to the broom with both hands. It started zigzagging through the air. Severus looked down towards the stands, everyone was cheering loudly. No one noticed what was going on with Potter. Severus looked towards the stands where he was sitting that day, he saw his own face marred with a frown trying to figure out, what was wrong with Potter’s broom. Behind him Quirrell was muttering under his breath. Severus looked away from him and towards Potter.
Potter's broom was taking him backwards and then suddenly it rolled forward and unseated Potter until he was suspended in the air with only his right hand holding onto the broom. The crowd gasped, finally realizing what was going on.
That's when the memory started to flicker, he jerked his head around to look at Potter, he was looking straight in front of him, his brows furrowed in concentration. It was working! The weather changed from sunny to gloomy. The shack they were inside was small and miserable looking , Severus was just glad to be standing on a solid ground. The memory that Potter had conjured didn’t look as clear as the previous one, it was unfocused, fuzzy around the edges.
He could see Potter and Hagrid in the middle of the room and a young boy covering by the window. There were two people, probably Petunia and her husband, standing by a staircase. Hagrid was saying something, Severus could see his mouth forming words but he couldn't hear him.
All the previous memories had felt real but this one didn't, it was like watching television with the volume at lowest setting, but not completely silent. The emotions coming off Potter were dull, if Severus didn't know better he would have thought the eleven year old was using Occlumency to conceal his emotions. He walked towards the fireplace and held his hand over the fire, it should have been hotter. The memory was weaker but it wasn't flickering in an out of existence like last time.
Severus looked around for the light, it was by the staircase, it was brighter than last time. This time he could make out it’s pale blue colour, the thin stream of light was weaving around the members present in the room and making its way towards Severus and Potter, the real Potter. Then the light started to fade along with the memory as the snow globe overpowered it.
Severus and Potter cursed in unison. Potter was looking at his younger self dangling in the air with the broom as his only support which was violently swinging him back and forth. While Severus was looking down at his feet which were again fifty feet above the ground.
After a while, the broom stopped moving, Potter hoisted himself up on the broom. The crowd went back to clapping and cheering, like an eleven boy hadn't come close to being splattered all over the ground a second ago.
Chapter 9