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sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book One: -Harry can not survive his dark thoughts anymore. At least not alone.
Warning:Sorry I forgot to mention this earlier, but Harry will be a few months shy of 18 when the NC-17 action begins. That apparently makes reading illegal somewhere even the age of consent is 16 in Britain and where I live. fumes So if it's illegal to read this where you are, I apologize not giving the warning before. And no, no sex in this chapter. Or the next. Or the one after that. *ad nauseum*
The dungeons were well lit during the daytime.
At least this part of them was. Seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins were rushing towards the Potions classroom, no one wanting to be late.
Their professor had never actually hexed any one of them -- it had been close with the whole exploding frog gut incident with Neville Longbottom the previous year -- but there was a first time for everything. It wasn't as if Snape had to hex anyone, or to even threaten to do that. His glare was bad enough.
Harry followed his friends inside the dank room, keeping his gaze on his feet. He didn't feel any of the peace the dungeons had given him the previous night. Actually, he was terrified.
He now knew exactly how Neville felt every time he approached the class.
Snape wasn't in yet, so they all had good time to prepare. Notebooks and cauldrons were placed on the tables, quills and ink readied. No one wanted to look like a slacker at Potions. Not even the Slytherins.
The loud slam of the door opening and hitting the wall made everyone jump. Even though that was the usual way Snape entered the classroom, no one was ever ready for that. Harry cringed as the professor walked past his table, his robes billowing. He had a bad feeling about this.
"Today, we're going to make the Stealth potion." Without preamble, Snape walked to the blackboard and started writing. "After finishing, you will write at least a foot long essay about the use of this potion, and the history of it. You may begin."
Everyone copied the notes into their notebooks, making sure they got the ingredients right. The potions Snape was teaching them were getting more difficult over the years, and messing up things would result in explosions every time. A fact Neville was painfully aware of.
Due to the complexity of the potion, Snape had all the students pair up. "Mr. Crabbe, you go with Miss. Parkinson. Mr. Goyle, Mr. Malfoy." He thought he saw a glint of relief in Malfoy's gaze, but couldn't be sure. The boy was doing excellent job hiding his emotions these days. "Miss. Granger. Let's see if you can help Mr. Weasley with this one. Potter. You are with Mr. Longbottom."
Harry didn't even register the way his name was snarled out. Realizing he was paired with Neville, he sighed. It was proof that Snape wanted him dead. After all these years of watching over him, Snape had finally had enough, and was trying to kill him. Maybe he should have let Quirrel do the job six years ago. At least they'd all have been saved from humiliation then.
"I... I think we can do this. Right?" Neville didn't sound so sure about himself, but he tried to cheer Harry up anyway. "There are lots of roots in this one. I know roots. I can chop them if you... Do the rest."
Hearing the honest worry in his friend's voice, Harry snapped out of his wallowing and nodded. "Yeah. I think we can do this. You get the roots, I'll get the feathers."
The class worked in silence. There were no slimy or disgusting ingredients in this potion. Only different kinds of roots and herbs, some berries and a small amount of Blackforest Eagle feathers. Harry concentrated on the feathers, chopping the soft tufts into a fine shred. Never once did he look at his teacher.
Neville watched his partner weigh the feathers he'd cut for the fourth time and frowned. That wasn't like Harry. He looked at Hermione and noticed she was staring at Harry as well. Maybe something had happened to make him so quiet. Not wanting to add to his worries, he kept slicing the roots, hoping against hope he'd get this potion made the way it was supposed to.
"Mr. Weasley. Do not tear the feathers like that. They're more expensive than chicken feathers."
Snape's bark made Ron drop one of the blue-black feathers on the floor. In his haste to pick it up, he staggered a little, and promptly stepped on the feather.
The Slytherins tittered at that.
"Mr. Weasley." It was a suffering sigh. "There must be a brain under that hair of yours, though we have yet to be shown the proof of its existence. Ten points from Gryffindor."
The color on Ron's face matched the color of his hair. His mouth worked for a moment, but he didn't say anything out loud.
Finally finishing his weighing, Harry quietly handed the rest of his feather to Ron. There'd be enough for another potion. He caught Snape's dark gaze on him, and turned his attention back to his cauldron, hoping that Snape wouldn't say anything.
Snape kept staring at Harry for a moment longer. Then he stepped away from his desk and started walking around the classroom, checking out the simmering potions.
While he kept observing his students, his mind was working on the previous night. He wasn't sure what to make of Potter's behavior. He'd been weary, almost to the point of exhaustion, saying things he certainly wouldn't have in his right mind. It appeared that after a few hours of sleep, he'd changed his mind. At least he refused to look at him.
How pointless. Snape had seen worse in his time as a teacher. Potter had simply reached the end of his rope. It wasn't like he'd done anything that bad. Hadn't tried to bribe him, for example.
Snape adjusted Dean Thomas' grip on the ladle, wondering how long it would take for that boy to understand you needed to stir the potion in a specific way to make it work. Some people simply weren't made to handle with a delicate art like potions making.
Correction. Hardly anyone was made for that. A shame, really. And a pity.
"Should I add the roots now?" Wondering if Harry had even heard him, Neville tugged at his friend's robes. "Harry? Are you all right?"
Focusing his gaze on Neville, Harry blinked. He'd been concentrating on stirring the potion, not really paying attention to anything else. "Huh? Yes, you can add the roots now." He hoped Neville had been talking about the roots.
It was probably a good thing the potion of the day was a difficult one to prepare. Harry needed something to concentrate on. The last thing he wanted was to talk to Snape. It'd be perfect if he never had to speak to him again.
Harry's hand froze after the fiftieth vigorous stir. Damn, he'd completely forgot about the detention later on. Snape would expect him to act like a nervous wreck no doubt. Changing the direction, he started stirring again.
"Mr. Potter!" Snape's eyes gleamed as he saw the boy jump. "Are you trying to blow up your cauldron on purpose or is that simply a sign of your less than admirable intelligence?"
Realizing that he was stirring the potion too hard, Harry froze again. He glanced at Snape, feeling heat rise to his cheeks at the professor's sneer. "I..." It was like the worst kind of deja vu. "Sorry, sir." He tried to aim for meek, but the words came out laden with sarcasm.
"Ten points from Gryffindor." It was to be expected.
Harry was just happy it wasn't more than that. Snape always seemed to enjoy punishing him. He'd tried to stay out of trouble lately, refusing to get mad at the sly and sarcastic comments, but sometimes it was just too much. Then he'd simply had to reply to all those scathing remarks.
Not today, though. He was in enough trouble already.
Snape continued his tour after it was clear Potter wouldn't make any more comments. He watched his students work very hard trying to get the potion right. Probably because they knew they'd all have to test it when it was ready. It was petty, but Snape enjoyed that part of the class the most.
This time, he was pretty sure it would be his own students that would cause the biggest commotion. Due to Potter's need to hide from him, even Longbottom would probably manage not to turn yellow or burst into flames. Parkinson and Crabbe didn't look that lucky. She was adding too many feather pieces too fast into the potion.
Snape had a good reason to teach his students this particular potion. It was mostly to show the seventh year Slytherins that you couldn't always trust magic. A notion that made Snape shiver a little, but it was true nevertheless.
He knew what fate was waiting for his students. Had been there at the Malfoy Mansion, watching Death Eaters parade their children in front of Voldemort like prize animals.
Seeing the elder Crabbe and Goyle with their children, followed by the Parkinsons and Bulstrodes had made him nauseous. It had been like a scene from the past. He and Lucius and their housemates going to join Voldemort by the dozens. Sheer stupidity.
If only there was something he could do to change that. By the end of the school year, the group of the Death Eaters would grow, and eventually, he would have to fight against children he spent years taking care of, probably even kill some of them. Each and every one of them was a threat against him and those he... Well, those he didn't utterly despise.
There had been nothing he could do. Maybe if he didn't have to keep up the appearance so that he could spy for the Order, he might have been able to save some of the youngsters, but as things were, that was just a foolish dream. All he could do was to give his Slytherins things to think of. Maybe even some doubts to nag in their minds. Hoping they'd use their brains -- those who had one -- and would never join Voldemort.
The stealth potion was an excellent way to raise doubts in the minds of smug young wizards. A potion looking like one could do anything after ingesting it, only to be slapped back to reality. It was cruel. Like life itself.
"All right then." Seeing that most of the class had managed to finish the potion, Snape strode to the front of the room. "The purpose of the potion is to give the one drinking it camouflage and strength. This is the basic potion. To make it work, you'll have to add either a little grass or a small stone."
Knowing he would lose no House points by asking, Malfoy raised his hand. "Why?"
"Because you'll need different kinds of camouflage in a forest or in the city."
Hermione leaned closer to Ron, muttering, "Anyone who's watched Muggle war movies knows that."
"Excellent question, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin." Snape ignored the glares some of the Gryffindors cast in his direction. "Now, add the small pebbles of stone to the potion. Yes. No, Mr. Thomas. Don't toss it in. Just put it in the cauldron. Now stir three times. Enough."
Harry kept his gaze on the potion, noticing it was turning grey almost immediately. He wondered if that was the way it was supposed to go.
"Now, the potion only works on wizards, so you'll need to hold your wand in your hand as you drink it."
Pansy Parkinson looked at the murky brown liquid in the cauldron in front of her, and coughed, "Um, sir. I left my wand in my room."
She hoped the professor wouldn't ask to see her bag. It was a lie of necessity. No way was she going to drink that.
Crabbe on the other hand didn't see anything amiss with their potion.
"It's all right, Miss. Parkinson." Snape dismissed the girl. He wouldn't have drunk that mud either. "Now, hold your wand and then take a long gulp of the potion."
Hermione was the only one to drink without hesitations. She was certain they'd got it right. Ron followed suit a second later. It seemed most of the class had after all succeeded with the potion. The feathers sprouting out of Crabbe's ears were the only indicator of a potion gone wrong.
After swallowing the potion, Harry kept his gaze on Neville, looking for any signs of feathers. There was none. Instead, the other boy was slowly turning grey. Glad that they'd managed to make it work, he shoved his wand back inside his robes.
"If your potion is working correctly, your skin tone will be changing to camouflage you. You'll also feel stronger." His voice quiet, Snape watched the way the students were changing color.
Malfoy turned to Goyle and lifted him up in the air without problems. "Look! It's working."
All around the classroom, there were similar outbursts as the potions worked.
Snape waited patiently. The side effects should be kicking in about...
"Aaagh! Make it stop! This hurts!" Panicking, Ron waved his hand in the air. His lungs were burning, and he couldn't breathe. Next to him, Hermione was trying to gasp for air as well.
A moment later, everyone except for Vincent and Pansy was rolling around on the floor in agony.
"There is a rather nasty side effect to the potion." Snape stated coolly. "It will work only with wizards holding their wands, but doesn't work well with magic. Everyone, drop your wand."
Harry squirmed, trying to grab his wand as fast as possible. When his fingers touched the smooth wood, he felt a jolt of even greater
pain that disappeared the moment he managed to drop the wand on the floor.
"But... Sir! How can we do magic without our wands?" It was Zabini instead of Malfoy. Mostly because the blond wizard was still trying to let go of his hold on his wand.
Snape waited until everyone had managed to drop their wand. Then he said, "You can't. That's the point. The potion's effects last for half an hour, and during that time, you can not touch your wands. If you try to actually cast a spell, the pain will quite probably kill you."
There were shocked exclamations at that.
Harry stared at his wand. So close, but unreachable. He'd got used to holding the wand, to depending on it. Realizing that he and everyone else in the class were completely helpless, he glanced at Snape.
The others seemed to reach a similar conclusion, for the babble ended, replaced by icy fear.
After letting the silence stretch for an almost uncomfortably long time, Snape raised his own wand. He could see fear on most faces, the calm look on Potter's more than slightly annoying. With an almost negligent flick of his wrist, he looked at Crabbe and said, "Demo Penna."
The feathers disappeared from the both sides of the boy's head.
Snape looked around the room. "I assume you all got the point?" He saw everyone nod, even though it was doubtful Crabbe and Goyle had really understood the lesson. "Good. You may begin your essays now."
It was amazing how quickly everyone grabbed their parchments and quills.
There were no questions asked, or comments made. Everyone kept glancing at their wands every five minutes, probably feeling as naked without them as Harry did. It was the longest thirty minutes of most of their lives.
Finally Snape looked up from the book he'd been reading while his students scribbled down their essays, and said, "It's time. Bring me the parchments and then get your wands."
Hermione was the first one to comply, grimacing a little as she bent down to retrieve her wand. When she didn't start screaming or drop the wand immediately, others followed suit. For once, even the Slytherins seemed to escape the classroom.
"Mr. Potter." Cold voice reminded Harry that it wasn't over yet. "You may collect the cauldrons."
Harry shrugged and cast a longing look after Ron and Hermione. Detention was always bad, but after last night and today's class it would be pure torture.
As the door banged shut after the last Slytherin fleeing the Potions class, Harry went to get all the cauldrons. He knew from experience that cauldrons couldn't be cleaned by using magic. Snape had lectured about it long ago, going on and on about how using magic disturbed the next potion that would be brewed in the cauldron. Personally, Harry believed Snape simply enjoyed watching him scrub the cauldrons until his hands hurt.
Snape didn't move from his place behind the desk. He'd been watching Potter and was well aware of the boy's mood. It was clear he was regretting his bout of self-pity the night before.
He'd been expecting something like that to happen. Potter had been so desperate when he'd asked for his help; he'd seen no other choice but to agree. No matter what, he knew the Order needed the boy relatively sane. Of course he wasn't about to actually offer his help. It wasn't like he was yearning for the chance to be Harry Potter's personal father confessor.
The mere idea made him want to laugh. Instead he started grading the essays, glancing at Potter from time to time.
Rinsing one cauldron before grabbing the next, Harry kept wondering why Snape was so damn quiet. Any other teacher would have asked him what was wrong by now. Offered him tea or a Sherbet Lemon. Showed that they cared.
It was annoying in a way, but also a relief. He didn't want to explain his change of heart to Snape. In the bright daylight, his good idea of baring his soul to the Potions master sounded idiotic, and he wasn't sure he could actually say anything to him.
Besides, he felt better. Maybe it was the thought of having the opportunity to talk to the man that was making him all right. He didn't have to deal with everything alone. Now he could choose it.
Harry scrubbed the cauldrons. Concentrated on removing every last trace of the potion from them. Scrubbing, and scrubbing, and trying not to think about anything.
"You can go now."
The words startled Harry. He dropped the cauldron he'd been scrubbing, wincing at the loud clatter. Picking it up again, he glanced at Snape. "Huh?" The inquiring sound escaped him before he could stop, and he closed his eyes. Snape probably thought he was a complete idiot.
"You've spent two hours cleaning the classroom. I do think the cauldrons are clean enough." Snape's drawl was as sarcastic as ever. "You're done. You may leave." His tone indicated that it wasn't exactly a request.
Harry stared at the professor for a moment. Then he hurried to get his things. Without words, he walked out of the classroom.
Raising an eyebrow, Snape watched his most annoying student leave. Knowing he wouldn't be back, he turned his attention to the inane ramblings his students called essays.
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Date: 2006-04-15 08:26 pm (UTC)hehe- too funny.
i really liked snape's lesson in this chapter. the characterization of him is really good, too. :)
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Date: 2006-04-15 08:34 pm (UTC)I think Snape would be cruel and then expect people to figure out his lesson on their own. He doesn't seem to have patience for idiots. Except for Harry of course.