Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
Green Card: Forcibly stripped, forced to kneel/bow, forgetting to eat, magical restraints, stolen belongings
Spark
July 1996

“Potter, have you eaten recently?” Snape said, calmly sipping his cup of tea, reading a potions manual, and trying to ignore the very much naked teen hidden within the burning timbers in the fireplace.

“No, sir,” Harry admitted softly after a moment, reaching a hand out of the fireplace to grab a small log from the pile next to it. His eyes glowing an unearthly yellow as the log slowly caught fire. “Are you sure you are not too hot, sir?”

“Potter, we’ve been over this,” Snape said, snapping his manual shut with a sigh. “I have had a climate control spell on my robes this entire time. You need the flames to keep yourself alive and well. If I get to the point in which I am uncomfortable, I am completely capable of walking out of the building for some fresh air. Now, when did you last eat?”

Harry ducked down below his pile of logs, pushing the ashes forward and out of the way of the fire. He was fifteen now, for Merlin’s sake, he should know what the Professor was capable of doing and not doing. The Professor was a human after all, and a wizard to boot, of course he would be able to control the temperature of his robes. It was just… It was hard to remember sometimes what it was like to be a wizard. Two and a half years didn’t seem that long, but at the same time it felt like forever.

“Potter?” Snape asked calmly, dipping a finger into his tea and flicking it into the flames, causing the flames to crackle in a way he had quickly learned would draw the young demon’s attention.

“Rude!” Harry hissed, poking his head over the top of the logs but glad for the distraction from his thoughts.

“Have you eaten recently?” Snape repeated once again.

Harry frowned, blowing lightly on the top log to ensure the fire stayed lit before shrugging.

“Verbal answer,” Snape insisted, putting his tea down and crossing his arms over his chest. “I know I’m feeling rather peckish, but I don’t know when you last had anything substantial and I don’t want to go to the store for only myself.”

“Not… not recently,” Harry finally admitted, picking through the ashes and finding a decent sized chunk of charcoal which he placed in his mouth and began chewing on. “But I’m fine, really!”

“Potter, charcoal does not a balanced meal make, even for you,” Snape chastised him in frustration. “Did you eat yesterday?”

Harry sighed, causing the flames to rise slightly in front of him. “No, sir.”

“And the day before?” Snape rolled his eyes.

“No, sir.”

“And what of the day before that?”

“Yea…no, sir. I forgot they brought it, then they took it away before I had a chance to eat,” Harry said sheepishly, savoring the flavor of the sweet chestnut charcoal he had made in his fire.

Snape sighed exasperatedly before standing from the sofa he had spelled to have cushions and spelling it back to its original stone. Getting the fire demon to eat had been the biggest struggle since his release. It wasn’t the boy’s priority, in fact it was the last thing on his mind when he was building his fire and his nest. Eating was an ordeal which required him to leave the safety and warmth of his fire, consume foods which would not survive the heat, then return. It was even more of an ordeal for Potter as eating not only removed him from his nest, but had been used as a means to trap him on several occasions.

Those ministry thugs had many things to answer for, traumatizing this boy certainly being on the list.

“I shall be back,” Snape said, summoning his cloak. Though it was rather warm out still, he had been slowly becoming accustomed to the heat the boy liked to keep the house at, making a cloak when he left the cottage a must if he didn’t want to feel the chill of the North Sea wind on him. “Will you need anything?”

“Could… could I have some straw?” Harry asked softly, almost as though he were ashamed of his request.

“Are you planning on starting a farm in there?” Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry immediately ducked below his pile of logs in embarrassment. Of course the Professor wouldn’t want to buy him something as flammable as straw. It was too much of a danger. He was too much of a danger. It would have been nice to have though. He could have moved his fire to the hearth in the entryway.

It was a nice hearth, he could see it from his current fireplace. It was big enough he could stretch out and languish in it like it was a bathtub. The straw would have caught nicely and he could easily move some of his logs over. But it didn’t matter. It was just a pipe dream. He didn’t really need the straw, it just sounded comfortable. He should be happy with what he had. That he had anything at all.

‘You are a creature, worthless in every way,’ the inquisitor’s shrill voice rang in his head. ‘Subhuman. You get only what you deserve: nothing. You are given a task and that is your only job. You will receive only what is necessary for that task. Now, do not ask me for anything extra, creature. Do you think you can manage that? Or is that too hard for you to understand?’

“- much do you need?” the Professor’s voice shook him from his thoughts. “Potter?”

“Um…” Harry shook his head, trying to pull himself back to the present. “I don’t… I… If it’s not too much… Never mind.”

“Potter, where were you wanting to put your straw?” Snape asked patiently as the boy cowered into the flames, clearly lost in his memories.

Harry swallowed hard before pointing one ash stained hand out of the fireplace, pointing it at the hearth.

“And were you planning to start a fire in there?” Snape asked gently, looking at the barely visible registry tattoo under the boy’s ever-present layer of grime.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, pulling his hand back into the safety of the fire and curling into his forming nest of ash and charcoal. There was no way the professor would get him such a luxury. He didn’t deserve it.

“I shall buy you a bale,” Snape said, turning on his heel and striding to the door. “Never let it be said I don’t do nice things.”




January 1994

“Headmaster’s Office!” Madam Pomfrey called, throwing a handful of floo powder into the flames of the fire in her office and quickly stepping through. She had done all she could for the boy, but the headmaster needed to know what was occurring.

“Poppy, what news do you have about Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore said, by way of a greeting, clearly having been awaiting her arrival.

“He cannot stay here,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly. “He is a danger to himself and the other students.”

“Now surely…” Dumbledore began, sitting behind his desk, the twinkle in his eye fading as Madam Pomfrey refused to sit opposite him.

“No, Albus!” Madam Pomfrey exploded. “Absolutely not! This is not like having Remus here! Not even close!”

“So you have figured out what creature he is then?” Dumbledore said, his voice a mix of excitement and worry.

“A fire demon,” she said almost angrily. “Dealing with Remus once a month was bad enough. It was nothing short of a miracle there was only one incident with him while he was a student here. But Potter is completely changing and will stay that way.”

“Surely…”

“No, Albus! No! He is already incapable of being away from fire for any length of time! How long will you wait before listening to reason? Fiendfyre was derived from a fire demon’s ability to produce fire on command and is just as uncontrollable.”

Dumbledore nodded sadly. “But surely we can …”

“Do what, Albus?” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, angrily stamping her foot on the floor. “Do what? Wait for him to burn down half of Hogwarts? Allow him to injure or kill another student? They are not called demons for no reason, Albus!”

Dumbledore stood slowly, his face showing his age for the first time in many moons. “What would you have me do?”

“I have already done it,” Madam Pomfrey said stiffly, turning back to the door. “I did it because I knew you wouldn’t want to. But I have as much of an obligation to keep the rest of the students safe as I do him, and allowing him here keeps no one safe.”

“When will they arrive?” Dumbledore said, his shoulders falling, knowing he lost the argument soundly. She was right, of course, but he could only hope the ministry would not be overly harsh to the boy.

Registration would be the least of his worries, but at least they would find housing for the boy. Ministry issued housing, of course, but it was a place to lay his head. He wouldn’t be able to complete his education, but it wasn’t expected that he would be able to work outside of the menial, Ministry job he would be given. He would be branded as dangerous, of course, but it wasn't for no reason.

He truly would be dangerous once the transformation was complete.

“Within the hour,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly though her eyes radiated sadness. She hadn’t wanted to report the boy, but she knew what would happen if she didn’t. Harry wasn’t going to be safe around other students for much longer.

“And you are sure nothing else can be done?”

“Nothing.”

“But how? How did this happen to the poor boy?




Harry sat on the side of the hospital bed he had been given, looking around in confusion. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace, but that wasn’t what confused him. For some reason, there was a bubble over his mouth once again, but this time it was different. Rather than being the blue bubble, there was a dark, smoky cloud. He could taste the soot and ash in the air and for the first time in several weeks felt as though he could breathe again.

But what was really bothering him were the bangles he woke up to on his wrists. They felt oddly heavy and made him feel weak and tired. Like all he wanted to do was sleep.

Tossing and turning on the bed, he couldn’t find a comfortable position. No matter which way he turned, he couldn’t stay warm enough to fall asleep, even with his school robes still on. He was so cold and couldn’t wrap his mind around why he hadn’t been given a blanket. The bed was placed rather close to the flames, but still he couldn’t see any reason he wasn’t given a blanket.

Suddenly the floo flared to life, spitting out both Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey. Neither appeared to be in particularly great spirits, but neither wanted to inform him as to what was happening. He had been effectively cut out of the communication including that which directly pertained to him. Not that he needed to know much about the details, he was too tired.

Besides, he trusted Dumbledore.

Moments after their arrival, the floo flared once more, allowing two uniformed individuals through, their wands already in their hands as they stepped into the hospital wing and peered around.

“Welcome back Gifford, Rena,” Dumbledore said, nodding to the two people in uniform. “How are you?”

“Busy,” the woman said bluntly, her eyes quickly scanning the room before landing on the dark haired boy. “He the one?”

“Yes, but we haven’t…”

“Better not to, honestly,” the older man interrupted, looking briefly at his former professor. “They tend to put up a fight.”

Harry frowned, trying to make out more of their conversation, leaning farther and farther in before suddenly the bands on his wrist slammed together. His eyes widened as the two people in uniform sprang towards him, pulling him into a standing position with their wands.

His eyes widened in panic as they walked him several steps away from the bed, one of them holding him at wand point while the other did the levitating though he wasn’t sure which was which. Struggling weakly against the restraints, he tried frantically to look back at Dumbledore.

“Professor?” he called out frantically. “Professor?!”

“I’m sorry, my boy…” was the last thing he heard from the headmaster before a hook felt as though it was jammed into his belly button before pulling him into a demented whirlwind, whisking him away to somewhere known only by the two wizards accompanying him.

“Who are you?” he demanded, weakly trying to throw off the two guards, the two bracelets tightening around his wrists as he did so, glowing as they absorbed the frantic magic pouring off of him. “Where are we?!”

“Registration,” the woman said by way of an explanation as she pushed him towards a desk which was situated in the middle of the large hall they had found themselves in.

The hall itself was a long room with no windows to the outside world. There were few decorations and what few there were consisted of a singular photo of the current minister, a tapestry reading off the “10 rights of magical creatures,” and a picture of a rather toad like woman in pink holding a cat. A singular desk sat in the middle of the hall, the man behind it working frantically on some paperwork, muttering under his breath as he did so and repeatedly running his fingers through his sparse hair causing it to stand on end.

“Name?” The man barked as they approached.

“What?” Harry asked, looking around frantically.

“What is your name, creature,” the man said with a growl, peering over his half-rimmed, turtle-shell reading glasses in disdain. “Do not make me repeat myself again.”

“Harry Potter,” Harry said in confusion. “Where am I? What is this place?!”

“Age?” The man continued, briefly raising his eyebrows at the name before turning back to his paperwork, ignoring Harry’s questions.

“13!” Harry groaned, shifting around uncomfortably. The only fire in the room was on the other side of the hall, too far away to provide him with the warmth he needed. “Please sir…”

“Species?” The man interrupted.

“…what?!” Harry gasped, frowning and looking between the two guards and the man at the table. “Human?”

“HA!” The man behind the table let out a barking laugh. “Think you're funny do you? Or are you just stupid? What. Species. Are. You?”

“I’m human! I swear!” Harry said, looking frantically between the guards, the bangles on his wrists lighting ominously as he shifted around.

“The school mediwitch called us,” the male guard said, lowering Harry just close enough to the floor that his toes made contact. “He is a fire demon.”

“See, now that wasn’t hard,” the balding man sighed. “Every bloody time one of you creatures comes in, you try to lie to me. Every bloody time! Now I am a lenient man, so I’ll forgive you this time. But lie to me again…”

The man looked Harry in the eye in a way that was far from friendly causing Harry to shrink backwards. He hadn’t lied though! He didn’t know what was going on! Fire demon? What was that?!

“Markings?” The man continued, turning back to his paperwork.

“I have a lightning bolt scar on my forehead,” Harry said anxiously. “And… and a mole on my left shoulder! Oh, and a scar on my right arm.”

“Is that it?” The man said testily, looking up once more.

“I… I think so?” Harry stumbled over his words, shifting around as the cold continued to creep into his bones.

“Wand?” the man asked, his voice taking a sickeningly sweet tone.

“Holly and Phoenix feather, 13 inches,” Harry answered dutifully, glad he knew the answer to one of the questions.

“I do not care what kind of wand you have, demon. You aren’t allowed to have one,” the man snarled. “Where is it?”

Harry froze, an icy chill entering his heart at the ominous question. Why did this man need to know its location? Was he going to confiscate his wand? Why? Why would he need to do that?

Harry frantically looked between the two guards who stared at him stonily. Why did they need to know about his wand? What was going on? Why was no one telling him anything?!

“Enough,” the man said, snapping his fingers. “I don’t even know why I try. These bloody creatures are all the same. They know the laws; all non-human creatures are forbidden from having a wand. Now clearly you have been masquerading as a human for a while, so you must have come by an illicit wand at some point. So the question is: where are you hiding it.”

Harry’s eyes widened at the implications to what the man was saying. Surely he hadn’t been breaking the law when he purchased the wand! Surely they knew that he was new to this! He wasn’t trying to break the law! He wasn’t trying to be obstinate! He didn’t know what was going on! One minute he’s struggling to breathe in potions class and the next he’s in magical handcuffs being told he broke the law.

“Please sir,” Harry begged, his chest heaving as tears refused to come to his eyes. “Please! I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Strip him,” man said, snapping his fingers. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he still had it on him, foolish creature.”

The guards turned to Harry, and, with several flicks of their wands, had removed his school robes and left him hovering just off the ground in nothing but his pants. A few more flicks of their wands and his robes had been disassembled, his wand not being found among the shreds of his clothing.

“Hm, not as much of a fool as I though,” the man scoffed. “No matter. So long as he doesn’t have access to it.”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” Harry yelled, trying to fight against the restraining spells, his strength rapidly failing as he struggled. “Please! What did I do?!”

“Oh-ho! Here it comes now,” the man said snidely as he cataloged the shreds of Harry’s uniform. “My least favorite part: the bargaining. ‘I’ll do what you say, sir, just let me go.’ ‘I promise to be good!’ ‘I’ll never do it again, I swear!’ Every time.”

“But I don’t even…” Harry started to say before being interrupted.

“It isn’t what you’ve done, Potter,” the male guard said flatly. “It’s what you could do. You are a danger to everyone around you. The potential for you injuring or possibly killing another student is too high for you to remain around other children and you are too volatile to be left alone. You are predisposed to violence, everyone of your species is, so removing you from the school is the only option.”

“But I haven’t…”

“But you will,” the female guard butted in. “You have no control over your faculties, your instincts, or your magic. You will end up severely injuring someone.”

“But…”

“Silence!” the man at the desk roared, slamming a stamp onto the piece of parchment. “Do not entertain his delusions of humanity. He has been turned over for the safety of wizard-kind, not to be kept as a pet. Now, kneel, so we may get this over with.”

Harry’s body crumpled to the floor, the spells keeping him aloft suddenly falling away. The only thing preventing him from fully hitting the floor was the bangle on his right wrist which was held steady at waist height. Trying his hardest to stand, Harry quickly found his knees were anchored to the ground in such a way that he couldn’t do anything other than awkwardly kneel.

“Now, demon, it is my duty to inform you that you have been registered with the Ministry of Magic as a Class One creature,” the man recited in a bored manner, his lip curling as he took in the teen in front of him. “You are to remain within ministry designated areas for the remainder of your life. Should you be caught outside of those areas, you will be arrested and receive a Dementor’s kiss or whatever is necessary to properly end your life.

“You will be provided lodgings for the time being and will receive a position suitable for your species. Should you not have completed your transformation or your transformation be transient, a potion will be provided to you to complete your transformation upon arrival to your lodgings.

“You will be required to update your location with the Dangerous and Deadly Creatures Department on a weekly basis. Failure to do so will result in one warning followed by arrest and detention.

“Attempts to procreate will be met with immediate sterilization. Attempts to escape will be met with arrest and detention. Attempts to incite uprising on behalf of your people will be met with arrest and a Kiss or whatever means is necessary to end your life.

“You are not human, and therefore should not expect to be treated as such. Is. this. understood?”

Harry swallowed harshly. It wasn’t as though he had a choice: his options were either compliance or death.

“Yes, sir,” he whispered, trying to remember the rules which had just been spouted at him, his heart sinking in his chest.

“Good,” the man said, flicking his wand and causing a swirling black tattoo to appear on the back of Harry's hand. “Demon 53328, you are free to collect your… things. The guards will escort you to your ... room.”

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