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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 Three: -Does being a good guy mean you also have to be a nice guy? Draco is about to find out. Companionable silences and fist fights are a good way to hide deeper emotions.
Warning: This part contains mild violence, explicit sex between men, confusion about sex (not non-con really!) and as you can guess, angst. .
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
Hanging the sheets and robes to dry was definitely more difficult than washing windows.
Holding a couple of clothespins in his mouth, Draco fought to get one of the sheets straight on the line before pinning it in place. It was the last one. The other sheets were already swaying in the gentle wind.
At least it wasn't raining. That would have been annoying after all the work they'd done.
Draco had dreaded this day. After the scene in the hallway last evening, he'd been sure either he or Weasley would end up hurt or dead. And to be honest, there had been moments when drowning Weasley had sounded like a perfect solution to all his problems.
They had managed to work together. Probably because of the ten steps of distance they'd kept constantly. Or the fact that they hadn't said a word to each other.
He'd noticed all the glares, but had chosen to ignore them. It actually made him proud of himself and his self-control.
It had been a long day. After breakfast, Snape had instructed them on the various ways wizards could use magic to help them do the laundry. They had chosen to use the stream. Draco wasn't completely convinced there wasn't a charm to clean clothes more thoroughly than the ones they had used, but he knew better than to question his professor. So he had followed Ron, carrying armloads of dirty clothes, and then spent hours at the riverside.
Using the simple charms to warm the water and make it swirl hadn't been enough. They'd had to actually stir the clothes and then pour several potions into the stream. Hard work.
Draco was sure even Muggles didn't do it like this anymore. They probably had some kinds of machines to do the heavy work.
He really missed the house elves from Hogwarts. All he had to do was to put the clothes into a basket. The next time he saw them, they were neatly folded into his closet. No scrubbing, no sweating. Just nice clean robes.
There was an unbelievable amount of laundry. Sheets. Robes. Socks. Shirts. Strangely similar underwear. Apparently they all shopped at Malkin's. He'd thought it'd take a couple of hours to finish with their task. He'd been wrong. It was almost dinner time, and they were still at it.
While Snape was making dinner and Potter was washing the floors.
Life was so unfair.
Finishing with the sheets, Draco grabbed a robe and started to hang it. It wasn't as easy as hanging the sheets had been. The robes weren't symmetrical, and at least one part seemed to be hanging to the ground no matter how he turned them. He worked on the robe patiently, even though all he wanted was to turn his wand on it and yell, 'incendio'. Since it was his best robe, he decided against such stupidity.
He managed to hang the robe to his satisfaction and then went to get more clothespins from the small bag. He glared at Weasley while crouching there. It was obvious the redhead had done this before.
Draco was glad to see there were only a few robes and T-shirts left. When this ordeal was over, he never wanted to see wet laundry again, even if it meant walking around in dirty clothes. Someone else could handle this work the next time.
"Watch it, Malfoy!"
The growl came so suddenly, Draco spun around, one hand squeezing the wet shirt he was holding, the other reaching for his wand.
Ron was glaring at him from the other end of the clothesline. "Be careful with that shirt." He swallowed the rest of the sentence, knowing that the bastard would just make fun of him and his family if he told him how important the garment was to him.
It didn't really matter what Malfoy thought. His dad had bought him that shirt for his birthday last year, and maybe it was a bit too small to him now, but he still loved it. Not everyone had a real Chudley Cannons T-shirt that was licensed by the team. A must have thing for all true fans.
Malfoy couldn't appreciate such things. It was obvious from the way he was squeezing the shirt in his hand, not even realizing that the hem was trailing on the ground, getting dirty.
"Just give me the shirt and everything's all right again." Since Harry had asked him to -- asked nicely, cajoled and finally begged him -- he could behave. So he didn't even call Malfoy names. But he wanted to hang the shirt himself.
Draco lowered his gaze to the shirt he was holding. The orange cloth with the black cannon ball and the double Cs embroidered there made it quite obvious why Weasley would hold the thing dear. "Fine." He didn't care.
"Good. Now give it to me." Holding his hand out, Ron stared at Malfoy.
It was a stupid thing. Both had work to do before they could go back inside and spend the rest of the evening either reading or panicking. Arguing over who got to hang out a damn shirt would be stupid. Still, Draco didn't really want to give in that easily. He wasn't going to let Weasley order him around anymore.
He wasn't a complete idiot either. "Whatever." He tossed the shirt at Weasley, not wanting to argue about something as stupid as that. There would undoubtedly be other things to argue about.
Ron barely managed to grab the shirt. He glared at Malfoy again, just knowing he'd thrown it like that on purpose. "Damn sneaky snake loving..." Using most of his colorful vocabulary that would make his mother threaten to wash his mouth with Bubotuber pus, he threw the shirt at the line, missing it.
Cursing, he went to pick the wet garment from the bush, hoping he wouldn't have to wash it again. It would be just his luck to have mud on the shirt now.
He should have known something like this would happen. Malfoy had been quiet all morning. Too quiet.
Laundering hadn't been as bad as he'd feared. At least he'd been able to work in peace. Everything had been going on so well before he'd noticed Malfoy holding his shirt.
It was a small thing, but somehow it seemed too much. He had heard the taunts about his family's poverty for years now. Suffered through hours of innuendo about his friendship with the 'Boy Who Lived' and the very clever plan he must have to climb up the ladder of success. Kept his mouth shut as Slytherins tittered about his looks or commented the freckles and the red hair.
He wasn't going to punch Malfoy. Or even scream at him. But he was definitely going to deal with his own laundry.
Something was stirring in the bush. Still too busy calling Malfoy names, Ron ignored the movement, scooping up the shirt and shaking it. Stupid Snape forcing him to work with Malfoy. Of course the professor couldn't see anything wrong with his Slytherin. Always pampering him, boosting his overblown ego.
There was something on the shirt. Ron shook it again, disgusted by the cool wetness of it. He kicked the bush, needing to do something about his anger before he wrung someone's neck. That someone standing by the laundry basket with a suffering expression on his face.
"Stupid, lying, hateful... Ow!"
Ron looked down at his stinging left foot. His eyes widened as he saw the small form slither away from him and back into the bush. Blinking, he tried to understand what had just happened.
It was a damn snake. He'd just been bitten by a snake. Possibly a poisonous one.
The irony of the situation wasn't lost from him. Staring at the bushes, he let out a giggle. This was just too much. He'd survived almost seven years of being the best friend of the famous Harry Potter. Had been forced to face his worst fears in the form of giant spiders, lived through a Death Eater attack at the Burrow. And now, he was bitten by a damn snake, a slithering green snake that reminded him of the one embroidered into the small badge on every Slytherin's robe.
To think that just a couple of days earlier he'd thought things were getting boring and he wanted some excitement in his life.
Laughing so hard tears fell down his face, Ron held his stomach. He was getting dizzy with all the laughter but the whole thing was so silly! He needed to share the joke with someone who would understand.
That meant Harry.
Ron turned around, letting the shirt slip through his fingers. It didn't really matter if it got dirty again. He could wash it again later. Lurching from side to side, he headed back to the cottage. He had to find Harry right now. And maybe lie down too. His foot was hurting a lot more than it should after such a small bite.
Damn snakes. You couldn't trust them. Always haunting him and taunting him about things. Slimy and sneaky.
"Where do you think you're going, Weasley?"
The question jolted Ron out of his thoughts and he looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing in his way. He blinked at him owlishly. When had Malfoy turned so fuzzy? "Need to see Harry. Get out of my way, Malfoy." When the other boy just stared at him, he shoved at him hard and then went on towards the cottage.
Draco slumped against a tree, desperately flailing with his hands to get a hold on the trunk. The anger that flared in his mind was welcome. This was going too far. He was not going to let Ron Weasley walk over him again. Pushing himself up, he followed the Gryffindor.
Who hadn't got really far yet. Draco frowned as he saw the way the redhead swayed and staggered onwards. It almost looked like he was drunk. A cold feeling filled Draco's stomach. Had something happened? Was this a first sign of an attack on them?
"Wait up Weasley." Hurrying to Ron's side, Draco grabbed his arm. Something was wrong. Even through the pullover he could feel that Ron's skin was burning. "Let me help you to Potter."
A sweet smile appeared on Ron's face, his gaze unfocused. "Maybe you're not a complete bastard after all." His words came out slurred.
That was it! Draco realized he was delirious. He had to get Weasley to Snape at once.
"You know, this is really poetic. I mean, if there was justice, you'd be bitten by a lion in a minute or two." Ron couldn't keep the words inside. He allowed himself to be dragged towards the cottage, rambling on. "But there are no lions in Scotland, you know, if we really still are in Scotland. Not real ones or magical ones. But there are snakes. Yeah. And spiders. You know, I'm really glad they didn't choose the spider as the Gryffindor crest animal. Would have rather become a Hufflepuff than a Gryffindor then. Or even a Slytherin. Even though I don't really like snakes that much. They bite you and you die, you know?"
Draco swallowed hard. A snake had bit Weasley? "Can you tell me what kind of a snake it was? What color?" He tried to rack his brains, to figure out if there were any magical snakes living here. He had no idea. He couldn't remember anything about non-magical ones either.
"Blond. Almost white." Ron stared at the other boy. "Did you know your hair looks really funny up close? Is it like this naturally or do you dye it? I mean, we all know you're a natural blond, but that shade of white is just weird."
"Focus, Weasel! The snake. What color was the snake?" It was a good thing the cottage wasn't all that far, otherwise Draco would have been tempted to simply toss Weasley to the ground and let him die.
But Ron couldn't say anything. His face was reddening, his lips turning into an ominous shade of blue. The only sound coming from his throat was a faint gurgle.
"Oh, bugger!" Grabbing a better hold of Weasley, Draco hollered, "Help! Somebody help me! Professor Snape!" He started walking faster, feeling the body next to him start to get heavier.
Ron was starting to lose consciousness. He was vaguely aware of someone screaming into his ear, calling out for the professor. Snape. That almost rhymed with snake. But he didn't want to be bitten by either one of them. Too late with the snake. The idea of the Potions professor biting him was hilarious, but he didn't really feel like laughing. He was tired. So damn tired.
It would be really nice to just fall down and get some sleep.
"Professor Snape! Professor Snape!" His voice getting shrilly, Draco tried to keep Weasley from collapsing. Since the Gryffindor was bigger than he was, it was a losing battle. "Help!"
Knowing from the sound of the call that it was urgent, Snape abandoned the half set dinner table and rushed outside. Harry followed right behind him, holding his wand ready.
"What happened?" Snape reached the two boys just as Ron slumped on the grass completely boneless. He knelt down next to him immediately, his hand going to feel the pulse. Frowning, he looked up at Draco. "Did something bite him? A snake or an insect?"
Draco nodded. "Yes. He said something had bit him and then started babbling about things. Said our crest animal was going to kill him." He was out of breath after dragging Weasley all this way and then screaming for help.
"We have to get him inside immediately. Potter, grab his legs." Without even looking to see if Harry obeyed him, he grabbed Ron beneath his armpits and dragged him up. He couldn't risk levitating the boy now, not when he wasn't sure what had happened.
It was fortunate they were close to the cottage. Ron had grown tall these past two years and he wasn't exactly what one might call wiry. Harry was breathing hard as they reached their destination, his heart racing from both the exertion and fear. He could see from Snape's expression that this was serious.
"Put him down on the couch. Malfoy, go and get me a glass of water. Potter, stay with him." As soon as the boy was lying still, Snape hurried to his room.
Harry crouched next to his best friend, grabbing his hand. He could feel heat pulsating under the clammy skin, wondering about how weird it felt. Ron was shivering as if he was freezing cold, though he felt hot all over. "It's okay. Snape'll fix you." It was the only thing he could say to Ron.
"He's good with these things." Appearing behind the couch with a glass of water in his hand, Malfoy looked down at Ron. His expression was surprisingly blank. "The professor will know what to do with him."
"Yeah." That was a blessing. Harry knew Snape had brought lots of potions ingredients and vials with him. There had to be something that would cure Ron there.
Heavy footsteps heralded Snape's return. A moment later he walked to the room, carrying a small bag with him. "Did you bring the water?" Not wasting any time, he glanced at Malfoy. He saw the glass, and nodded. "Good." Taking a small vial from the bag, he dropped seven drops of pink liquid into the water and then motioned at Harry. "Get him to sit up, he needs to drink this immediately."
Harry levered Ron up. It wasn't easy. He felt like a limp puppet, his body completely relaxed.
"Come on, Weasley. Drink this." Knowing it was probable that the boy couldn't hear him, Snape raised the glass to Ron's lax lips. Some of the liquid ran down his chin, but he did manage to swallow some.
"Is it going to cure him?" Fear evident in his voice, Harry looked up at Snape.
"Of course not. There is no such thing as an universal antidote to snake bites, Potter. You should know, we went through this last year in class." It only proved that Gryffindors slept through most of the Potions classes. "We need to find the animal who did this and get a sample of its venom before I can mix a potion that will cure Weasley here. I have given him something that should slow the effects of the venom."
Draco nodded. It was weird how everything Snape had taught them about venoms and poisonous animals had simply fled his head. "We were hanging the laundry. Near the small hill. To the left of the stream. Weasley was standing next to a couple of bushes when he started to act weird."
"Good. You stay here and keep an eye on Mr. Weasley. Try to find out where he was bitten."
That made Draco blink. How was he supposed to do that now that Weasley was lying almost unconscious? Surely Snape didn't mean he was supposed to strip him and go looking for fangmarks! He opened his mouth to protest, and then snapped it shut again when he saw the glare.
"Potter, you're with me." Snape put the glass on the small table. Seeing Harry was not obeying him, he repeated the command. "Potter. If you don't want to sit there and watch him die, you're coming with me. Now."
That made Harry flinch. With one last look at Ron, he followed Snape out.
The cottage seemed suddenly very quiet. Draco inched closer to Ron to hear his labored breaths. He hated not being able to do anything. It didn't matter it was Weasel who was lying there, dying; he hated the helplessness anyway. Steeling himself, he started pulling the redhead's clothes off. At least he could try to find out where the snake had bit him.
Harry was running after Snape, trying to catch him. "Wait up! Where are we going?" He wondered why Snape had told him to follow. That had left Ron alone with Malfoy. He couldn't really picture Malfoy taking care of anyone.
"It should be obvious. We need to get some of the snake's venom, and your friend doesn't have the time to wait for me to hunt the creature down." Casting a look over his shoulder, Snape was relieved to see comprehension dawn on Harry. The boy was good in tight situations, but wasn't always able to think clearly when his friends were in danger.
"You want me to talk to the snake." It wasn't a question, just a statement.
Snape had thought it was obvious. "Yes. Unless you want to spend an hour or so running after it." He didn't have to say that it would be too late for Weasley then.
Not bothering to even reply to that, Harry jogged towards the place Ron and Malfoy had been working at.
The baskets were still there, as if waiting for someone to come and pick them up. Black robes and white sheets were swinging on the clothes line. It all looked so homey it was hard to imagine that the place could actually be dangerous.
"Now what?" Harry looked around him, trying to figure out just exactly where Ron had been when the snake had bitten him. There was a shirt crumpled on the ground near some bushes. Malfoy had said something about bushes. And the shirt looked really familiar.
Gaze scanning their surroundings, Snape said, "Call out for the snake." He sounded a bit hesitant. "You can call for it without seeing it, can't you?"
Harry wasn't sure. He'd never really tried this before. There had always been something he could focus on. A picture or a statue. Or simply a live snake he could talk to. "I don't know." He'd try his best.
If it took parseltongue to save Ron's life, he'd hiss until his tongue bled.
Clearing his throat, he muttered, "Sssnake?" It sounded a bit silly to his own ears. He wasn't even certain if it had been in English or not. He never could tell the difference.
Nothing happened.
"Keep going!" Gesturing at Harry to go on, Snape stared at the bushes. He hoped this would work, that the snake was still around. He was definitely not going to lose a student. Not even someone as Gryffindor as Ron Weasley.
More hisses came out of Harry's mouth, sounding strangely pleading. Almost desperate. Somehow the pain and fear in those soft sounds were more aching than in any words he'd ever heard.
A rustling sound came from their left. Snape turned around, holding his breath as he saw a small green snake peek out from the bush.
The coloration of the snake wasn't at all familiar to him. It didn't seem magical, but somehow he wasn't certain it was something that should live around here either.
Seeing the snake seemed to trigger awareness in Harry. All hesitation left him as he focused his attention to the small snake who had probably found Ron's presence as a threat just moments ago.
Fascinated, Snape leaned a bit closer to hear better. He took in the half vacant look in Harry's eyes. The first time he'd heard Harry speak parseltongue, he'd been too stunned to actually appreciate the experience.
Strange, how graceful the hypnotic hissing was. There didn't seem to be any real words there, at least not ones Snape could identify. For a single moment, he wondered if it could be taught to someone. No one knew, really, for Salazar Slytherin had been secretive about his talent, as had every other parselmouth after him.
The snake swayed a little, focusing its small eyes on Snape. A forked tongue flickered out of its mouth as it tasted the air.
Harry hissed more words, his voice holding a warning note. His body language was screaming with tension. A moment later he relaxed as the snake swayed to focus its attention back to him.
It seemed to last for a long time; sibilant whispers pouring from Harry's lips, the snake hissing back. The odd swaying seemed to be a part of the speech, as the young man shifted his weight from one foot to another, his movement almost involuntary. Finally the snake stilled, coiling in the soft grass.
Almost as if waiting for something.
Snape raised an eyebrow as Harry left the snake and walked around the bush. "What are you doing?"
"The snake isn't going to just give us her venom." Explaining quietly Harry crouched down and took a hold of a large rock that was leaning against a bundle of roots. "She wants me to move this thing so that she can get a better doorway to her nest. Then she'll give us the thing we want."
It made Snape roll his eyes. Snakes wanted quid pro quo? Salazar had indeed picked the right animal to represent his House.
After Harry had carried the rock to the side, he arranged some of the smaller ones to shade a small hole in the ground. The snake slithered closer to watch him work. She seemed to be satisfied with the results, her tongue once again tasting the air.
The delay almost made Snape fidget impatiently, only the fear of upsetting the snake curbing the twitching. They didn't have much time. He didn't know details about the snake's venom, but it was clearly lethal.
Weasley could be dying. From the tension on Harry, he knew that he knew it too. It was amazing how calm he could still act.
"Do you have a cup or something?" A bit winded from carrying the fairly large boulder, Harry turned to glance at Snape. "For the venom." He had no idea of how to get the snake to squirt venom out. Could snakes do that? He knew nothing about non magical snakes, even though he was fairly sure they'd had an assignment to write a paper on adders in school. In the Muggle school he had attended before Hogwarts, almost a lifetime ago.
Snape reached into one of the pockets inside his robe and produced a soft rubbery ball. "Tell her to bite this. It's quite safe for her." He handed the ball to Harry.
It wasn't easy to convince the snake to bite the weird looking thing. She spent long minutes staring at it, and then running her tongue over its surface. Finally satisfied it was safe, she sank her fangs into it. As she let go, she let out an offended hiss, making Harry apologize for the extremely uncomfortable sensation of biting something so untasty.
Still hissing, she slithered back to her nest.
"We should get back as quickly as possible." Snape shoved the ball back into his pocket.
Harry didn't argue with him. Hissing a hasty goodbye to the snake, he turned around and started jogging back to the cottage, Snape following right behind him.
Fear was making his heart pound. This could not be happening. Ron couldn't be dying. He could not lose a friend like this. In a freak accident. It made no sense. No sense at all.
He swallowed down the panic, forcing himself to breathe calmly as he reached the cottage. Panicking and desperation would not help anyone. He needed to keep his head now. This was no different from all the times he'd faced Voldemort. If he lost the control over his emotions and gave into the fear gnawing at him, people would die.
Instead of rushing right in, he held the door open, allowing Snape to go in first. There wasn't much he could really do right now. Everything would depend on Snape brewing the antidote.
Ron was now covered with a blanket. His clothes were in a neat pile next to him. Looking extremely uncomfortable, Draco Malfoy was sitting on the floor, keeping an eye on the raggedly breathing young man. Relief filled him as he saw Snape barge into the room.
"Did you find the bite?"
"Yes. It was on his left ankle. No other signs of bites on him." At least as far as Draco could tell. He doubted the snake would have attacked any part now covered by Weasley's briefs.
Snape nodded. "Good." It was nice to see at least some people could follow orders without making a mess about it.
As if hearing the professor's voice, Ron started to convulse again.
"Mr. Malfoy. Hold his hands. Potter, give him two drops from that." Gesturing at the vial that was still on the table, Snape rushed to the other side of the room and lit a fire under a cauldron there. He saw Harry hesitate and look for the glass of water Snape had used earlier. "Don't just stand there. Pour the drops right into his mouth. Hurry."
The urgent tone made Harry comply without questions. As Malfoy held Ron in place, he managed to get the pink liquid into his mouth. It seemed to work immediately.
He put the small vial back on the table, looking unsure of what to do next.
Fortunately, Snape had it figured out already. "Potter, you go and sit with your friend. Mr. Malfoy. Go and wash your hands. You'll help me with the antidote." He knew that Harry would do anything to help him, but right now, he needed someone who actually knew how to brew a potion.
"Yes, sir." Malfoy rushed to the pail at the corner, rolling his sleeves up. He was glad there was something to do. Sitting by Weasley's side and watching him slowly die was not fun after all.
Harry sat down on the floor next to the couch, grabbing Ron's hand. He could hear Snape walk around the cottage, going to his own bedroom and then coming back again. Keeping his eyes on Ron, he tried not to think about the urgency in the man's voice. The potion was probably not an easy one to brew. It would take some time to finish, maybe even longer than Ron had left.
He refused to accept that; was not about to watch his friend die. He had faith in Snape's skill. If anyone could save Ron, it was Snape.
Minutes passed by. Harry listened to Snape bark instructions to Malfoy, the sound of his voice mingling with the soft boiling sounds coming from the cauldron by the fire. Ingredients were shredded, sliced and chopped, the scent of thyme filling the air.
It was strange how soothing the constant sound of instructions and explanations was. Snape kept talking about the reason he wasn't using a bezoar to counteract the poison, muttering things about someone using the last of his dried mandrake. It was almost as if the man was teaching a lesson once again.
Harry was glad of the words, knowing they were meant to distract them all from worrying. He let the familiar voice wash over him, not even paying attention to the words anymore.
Watching Ron breathe slowly made him wonder if he should do something. Anything. There wasn't a thing he could do but to sit here. He couldn't even pray. Didn't know whom to pray to.
"I need your help with this, Mr. Malfoy. Grab the ladle. No. Closer to my hands. Closer! For Merlin's sake, boy! You can do better than that!"
The angry words jolted Harry from his thoughts, and he glanced at the hearth where Snape and Malfoy were standing. He saw the large cauldron, and the impossibly thick ladle, wondering how the man would ever be able to stir whatever was inside the cauldron. The answer came a moment later as both Slytherins grabbed the wooden handle, starting to stir the potion with a well coordinated motion.
It was hypnotic. Harry kept his hand on Ron's, his gaze following the round motion of the ladle stirring the potion. He could remember one of the textbooks describing something like this; some potions being so thick they couldn't be made by a single person, no matter how strong.
At least Malfoy would be able to keep the stirring up for a long time. Steering a broomstick while trying to swoop down after the Snitch and not crash while doing it gave the Seeker muscled arms.
Round and round the ladle went. Firm, precise circles. Harry tried to count the stirs, losing count somewhere around the 160th stir.
All the while, Ron's breathing got a little fainter.
"We will need to change the direction after twenty-five more stirs." Snape's voice sounded strained. Sweat was running down his face, disappearing into his collar. "Then we'll have another 500 stirs counter-clockwise and the potion is finished."
Malfoy let out a pained gasp at that. "Sir! I don't think I can do that." He didn't sound like he was kidding. "My arms are about to fall off."
A short silence followed. Then Snape called out, "Potter. I need you here."
Harry got to his feet immediately, placing Ron's hand on the couch next to the unmoving body. He didn't dare to look at his friend, fearing he'd lose it and start blubbering. He couldn't afford that right now.
He walked slowly to the fire, stretching his shoulders. "What do you want me to do?"
"You need to take Mr. Malfoy's place once we change the direction." Raising his gaze from the potion to Harry, Snape frowned. "Do you remember how to make the reverse S-loop?"
"Yes." Stirring the potion was usually the simplest thing in class, so even Neville was able to remember the rules. The soft stirs, the harder ones. The flicks of the wrist and the vigorous ones where you needed your whole arm.
Snape was glad his seven years of hell with these children hadn't been a complete waste of time. "Good. Ten more stirs before it's time. Count with me, both of you. And when we reach two, you let go of the ladle and let Potter get a grip on it."
Blinking to prevent the beads of perspiration that were running down his face from reaching his eyes, Draco nodded. "Okay. Eight, seven, six, five..."
"Four, three, two..." Stepping to the left, Harry planted his hands on the wooden ladle as Draco let go. It was not the easiest thing to do. The round motion of the ladle was a steady one, but it had to be changed a moment later. Feeling Snape start the loop, he followed the movement, ending up stirring the potion in the opposite direction than just a second earlier.
Snape was actually stunned they had managed to do it without complications. His experience of Harry with potions was not a glorious one. "Good. Now, Mr. Malfoy. You should go and sit with Mr. Weasley. If he starts to convulse, give him a dosage from the blue bottle on the table."
"Yes, sir." Draco nodded, flexing his cramping hands. He needed something cool to drink, and a bath but that could wait. Without words, he padded to the couch, slumping down on the floor.
Harry was amazed of how hard it was to stir the potion. The way he was gripping the ladle above Snape's hands wasn't really giving him a good leverage, and he had to concentrate on making the motion stable. The fact that the wood was slick from where Malfoy's sweaty palms had gripped the ladle didn't really help.
Years of practice made Snape able to keep a count of the stirs even as he said, "You must tell me immediately if you feel like you're going to lose your grip or start cramping. If the stirring pattern changes, this whole thing will be ruined, and we need to start over again." He remembered the boulder Harry had lifted in order to please the snake and wasn't sure he was up to this.
There was no other option. Malfoy was already exhausted, and he couldn't do this alone. Not all 500 stirs.
"I'll let you know." Harry knew he'd stir the thing until his fingers fell off if necessary. He was quiet for a moment, but the nagging fear at his mind forced him to ask, "Will we make it in time?"
Dark gaze met with his. "Yes." If they managed to finish the potion. Weasley didn't stand a chance if they ruined this and had to start from a scratch. Especially since Snape knew he didn't have enough ingredients to brew another potion like this. "But we can't fail with the antidote."
Harry nodded. He trusted Snape not to lie to him.
The ladle felt smooth and heavy, the fumes from the cauldron tingling on Harry's fingers. He was used to the feeling from their Potions classroom. Snape had to feel the warmth worse than he did, with his hands closer to the cauldron, but there was no sign of pain on the man's face. Only concentration.
It was so damn difficult to keep the stirring movement steady.
"Can you move your hands a bit?" Knowing his position was a bad one, Harry stared at their hands. "Move them apart." He wasn't thinking about any lesson taught in the Potions class. This was about Quidditch, and emergency transports on a broom.
Snape nodded. He barely managed to widen his grip, his fingers starting to cramp. Ignoring the feeling, he kept stirring.
The next moment Harry let go of the ladle with one hand, placing it back a moment later, below Snape's splayed hands. As the next stir moved the ladle closer to him again, he repeated the motion with his other hand, replacing it between Snape's. "See? Better balance."
He remembered how Madam Hooch had made them practice dangling from the broomsticks a few years ago. First alone, then sharing the broom. Placing hands like that had made the Firebolt glide through the air with perfect grace, both he and Angelina managing to actually hang onto it for the whole ride.
This was different from holding a broom. This was a smooth motion, round and round and round... Never faltering, never changing. Watching the swirling brew was making Harry dizzy, so he looked up at Snape's face.
The world seemed to narrow down to this; wide circular movement of his arms, his shoulders flexing, hands guiding the ladle, his skin touching Snape's. It didn't take long for him to realize he was even breathing in synch with Snape, stirring the potion as if they were of one mind.
Harry felt small beads of perspiration fall down his forehead. He could see Snape's pale face glisten as well. Ignoring it, he concentrated on their movement.
The ladle brushed against the side of the cauldron, then made its way around again, smoothly this time. Harry's grip was not slipping, even though he could feel the moisture in his palms. He kept staring at Snape, wondering how long this would last and if they could really hang on long enough.
Snape's lips were moving now. The words flowing out in a whisper weren't numbers, or orders to guide Harry. They were a softly spoken charm, the essence of the potion without which the oddly yellow goo in the cauldron would just be a nice scented sludge instead of an antidote.
It was Harry's turn to be fascinated.
He'd seen Snape brew potions before. He rarely actually did that in class but they'd spent enough time together for him to see the reality of a Potions master's time off; there really was none. Whenever he'd gone to the dungeons, Snape had been doing something potion related.
Those evenings, when he'd curled on Snape's chair with a book or a Quidditch magazine in hand, he'd sometimes watched the man work. Cast disgusted glances at some of the icky ingredients. Wondered about how dedicated Snape was on his potions. Simply stared at his hands clutching the ladle.
He'd never really been a part of that. Not before this.
In class, he'd rarely worked with Hermione. She'd always tried to pair up with Neville to prevent a disaster. When she'd worked with Harry, it had definitely not been like this. Hard work, yes, but there had been no real magic there.
Harry couldn't help smiling at Snape as he felt something tingle before him. The scent of thyme intensified. He doubted he'd ever really enjoy brewing potions, but for this one wonderful moment, he was exhilarated.
"Almost there, Potter. Fifty more stirs." It was a novelty for Snape to see such a wild grin on Harry in a situation like this. Potions, his only passion, were rarely appreciated by anyone, not even those whose lives were saved by them. He'd seen curiosity and interest in Draco Malfoy's eyes as they had worked together with the ingredients, but he knew the gleam in Harry's eyes had nothing to do with that.
He was reacting to the moment and the power swirling between them.
Harry was counting down silently. If he let himself think about anything else than the stirs and the tingling, he'd probably scream. His arms were killing him. How the hell was Snape managing this?
"All right. Ten, nine, eight..." Snape counted, seeing Harry's lips move too. When they reached one, both stopped. The ladle was still moving, the circular motion a bit tricky to finish abruptly. "There. You can let go now." He wondered if he could. Fingers numb, he still grasped the ladle in a firm grip.
It took them both a moment to let go. When they finally did, Snape moved to Ron's silent form. The redhead was still breathing, but his face was ghostly white now, his lips completely blue, the deep color also circling his eyes.
"Put him on the floor on top of the blanket." Knowing he couldn't really do anything with that part, Snape watched Malfoy struggle with Weasley. "All right. Now get the cauldron. The potion is stable enough to use a levitation charm." While Malfoy obeyed, he walked to his small bag, grabbing a vial of Pepperup potion. It would have been stupid to ingest it before working on the antidote, considering how spectacular the effects of the fumes mixing with this potion would have been.
They all needed this right now.
Harry felt slightly better as the potion worked on him. The sight of smoke coming out of Snape's ears was hilarious, but he couldn't even smile. Concentrating on the antidote had kept his mind occupied, but now it was wandering again. Ron looked like a corpse, the slight rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he was still alive.
"Hold out your hands." Sounding exactly like he always did while teaching a lesson, Snape moved to kneel by the cauldron, holding a small scoop. "Every antidote works differently. Those counteracting a poison should be ingested. If being stung by a magical creature, the antidote should go straight to the wound." He scooped up the thick potion and poured it onto Harry's hands. Then he repeated the action, handing Malfoy a portion as well. "However, a snake bite is trickier, especially with something that could well be a non magical snake. We need to use this as a poultice and cover Mr. Weasley's whole body with the antidote."
"You mean we rub this in?" Harry stared at Snape to see the nod, and then placed his hands on Ron's bare chest. Without hesitation, he started to spread the dark yellow goo on his friend.
Draco stared at his hands for a moment, watching the thick goo start to slide through his fingers. Seeing Snape grab some of the antidote and start rubbing it vigorously on Weasley's foot, he smeared the potion on their patient's arm. The potion was thick and oily and spread well on the surprisingly cold skin. Pushing all thoughts away, Draco grabbed more of the goo and made certain Weasley's arms and hands were well covered.
They worked in silence. Harry tried not to panic even as the color on Ron's face didn't change from the awful blueish tinge. He wiped his friend's cheeks with his fingers, biting his lips at the awful contrast of yellow against shadowy grey.
Draco tried to avert his eyes as Snape grasped the waistband of Weasley's briefs and cut them off. Curiosity kept him staring as a scoopful of the antidote was poured on his groin, the goo spreading all over the naked skin without any need to be rubbed in.
He held out his hands for more of the potion and then went to work on Weasley's hair.
Together they rolled Ron over and then covered his back too. When the boy was completely smeared with the potion, Snape knelt back, sighing. "We'll have to wrap him into a blanket. He will probably sleep for at least sixteen hours. After that, we'll see if the potion worked." He didn't say it out loud, but it was obvious how they'd find out if it had worked or not. If Weasley was alive, it had.
"All right." Keeping his gaze on Ron, Harry nodded. It would be long sixteen hours.
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no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 01:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 04:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 11:22 pm (UTC)Snape and Harry really do see each other differently than other people. Different, but more equal than either would have imagined. I think they need that kind of realization if they can ever have a real relationship.
An invitation!
Date: 2006-07-02 11:43 pm (UTC)Hi! I'm the Moderator of
Hope you're interested -- we'd love to have you participate!
Re: An invitation!
Date: 2006-07-02 11:56 pm (UTC):) I like the idea of your tracking site. Too many fics get lost in the land of LJ.
Re: An invitation!
Date: 2006-07-03 12:00 am (UTC)With that in mind, any other writers or artists you know of whom I ought to invite as well? I'm more than interested -- since of course, nobody's flist will possibly cover *every* fan writer on LJ!
Re: An invitation!
Date: 2006-07-03 12:05 am (UTC)*hides*
Have been really out of touch of Potterfandom for some time now, so can't unfortunately think of anyone. Sorry. :D
Re: An invitation!
Date: 2006-07-03 12:09 am (UTC)* Title, Author, character or pairing, and rating.
* A brief summary or description.
* The URL to where the work may be found.
As many posting notifications as you give us, we include in our Monthly digest. And so that's all there is to it.
Re: An invitation!
Date: 2006-07-03 12:12 am (UTC):D
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Date: 2006-07-03 06:15 am (UTC)still, i love you for that moment between harry and severus as they stirred. *sighs* so very wonderful. can't wait for more!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 07:21 pm (UTC)And it's not exactly a spoiler to say that yeah, he'll be better. Deaths in the fic, yes, but none of the main characters.
Harry and Snape really are getting as close as two people can get without realizing they do want each other. Men! They should just get on with it already...
no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 01:16 pm (UTC)Wonderful story is all I can say. One of my major problems with fanfic is that more often than not the change in the relationship of these characters comes too fast and is simply not believable and you have wonderfully side stepped this issue by going slow but this is how relationships are built, especially if we are to consider circumstances that surround them. It makes the fic feel real and therefore believable and most wonderful. Very IC for all of them IMO, and who cares about the books after the Goblet, I gave up after she killed off Sirius. I read them but I did not enjoy it, simply to keep up I guess. I prefer fics like this one!
Anyways, great stuff, am looking forward to reading more. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 07:39 pm (UTC)After Class Prophet? Have never heard of it. Do tell me more.
I like to describe the fic as 'a story about war and people... and oh it has slash in it'. Sure, the slow pace sometimes irritates even me, but I don't believe this storyline would have worked with Snape and Harry jumping to bed after three chapters or so.
Started writing this fic before JKR killed Sirius and needed him in the story so decided to just ignore everything after GoF. I haven't read the following books, but did take a peek of a scene or two and have to say I don't think I'm missing anything even if I never read them.
Thank you! It's always great to hear that the fic doesn't suck.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 08:05 pm (UTC)Ah well After Class is a great Yahoo!Group for HP/SS fans and every three days or so we get the Prophet - a compilation of all the new fics in those days that have been published, WIPs updated and art is included as well. It's very useful, and that's where your name popped up. Here's the link if you want to see:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/After_class/
Anyway, as I've said I love the slow pace, it makes it all the better so no worries there, trust me on this one! And no, you didn't miss a think IMO with the last two books. And no problem, I think an author should always get reviews when they are writing such a good story, I really do love it!