Dungeon

Chapter 8 - New Battle Lines

As Ginny filed into Potions the next afternoon, Harry's whispered words from lunch came back to her. "He really isn't quite as nasty as he makes himself out during class. Just keep that in mind if you get intimidated." Most of the Slytherins ignored her and the rest of the Gryffindors. A few, Rhapsody Ballistrade and Gyneth Murgetroyde grinned sadistically at her as they passed close in the doorway.

By the end of the lecture, during which Snape essentially ignored her, she started to relax and returned to her earlier assumption: that Harry was exaggerating.

"Collect your ingredients now. And I feel compelled to point out that the Radiant Draught has been on the OWL every year it has been offered, so if you cannot manage this potion, do not bother showing up for your Potions OWL and embarrassing the school farther."

Ginny felt pretty good about this potion as she poured rainwater into her cauldron and started it heating. She added murtlap and skullcap and stirred like the instructions said. She turned to the board, ignoring the suddenly whispering Slytherins behind her. When she turned back to the potion it had turned pink. Staring at it dumbly didn't improve its color.

"What did you do?" her friend Nan asked from the other side of the table.

"I don't know. I'm starting over." She banished the contents of her cauldron and started again. Determined to not look away this time long enough for anything to happen, she went through the first steps. It looked better this time. She stirred with one of the long silver rods provided and suddenly realized that it seemed to have dissolved into her potion, which now looked blue-grey.

Ginny spun around and glared at her professor. Snape stood with his arms on his hips beside a table of snickering Slytherins. He looked as though he were just waiting for her to look his way.

"Problem, Ms. Weasley?"

Ginny stared him down and then snapped, "No, sir," and turned back to her table.

"Five points from Gryffindor for that tone, Weasley," Snape's voice said.

Livid now, Ginny picked up a wooden stirrer and looked down at her potion.

"What is wrong with you today?" Nan asked. "Don't make trouble."

"I'm not," Ginny said to her through clenched teeth. "It's Snape," she whispered.

"What? Making your potion go bad from all the way over there? You are losing it, girl. Why the heck would he do that?"

"For reasons I'm not going into," Ginny breathed. Silver, it could be isolated. She thought a moment. "Watch my potion that it doesn't boil over," she said to Nan.

"What are you . . .?" Nan started then tried to grab Ginny as she spun around to march over to Snape.

"Professor Snape, sir?" Ginny prompted in her most polite voice. Snape crossed his arms as he turned to her and stared down at her along his nose. "Can I get some moon nitrates for my potion?"

He looked at her a split second then pointed his wand over his shoulder. A cabinet behind him popped open. She stepped over to it.

"Try not to be too clumsy while you are in there, Ms. Weasley. There are a few rather dangerous compounds," Snape drawled.

It took a while to find what she needed. Nan gave her a look when she got back to their table. Ginny ignored her and, adding a droplet at a time, managed to bind all of the silver out of her potion. She fished out the resulting silver beads from the bottom of her cauldron so they didn't make so much noise. Round one to Ginny, she cheered to herself and hurried to move ahead in the instructions.

She was just feeling like she might make it when the potion suddenly turned creamy white, right before her eyes. It was really too late to start again and it was admitting defeat anyway. She didn't turn around this time, just thought frantically about what might be causing it.

Snape passed their table right then. He peered very dubiously into Ginny's cauldron. "Ms. Weasley, this is really not a difficult potion to brew," he sneered.

Ginny squelched all of the nasty remarks she wanted to make back and said in a twistedly sweet voice. "I am still working on it, Professor."

"Looks like you are done to me," Nan commented.

Ginny gave her a scathing look and Nan put her head down and ignored her. Snape moved on with a slow stride. White, what would be white? Ginny wondered. Snape couldn't have added anything from across the room, could he? It must be a precipitate. She fired up the burner to high and stirred rapidly. The white disappeared but the faint orange the willow buds had imparted to the potion turned to burnt brown. She added a few more petals after bringing the heat back down and then stared at it. It was probably right now, although she wouldn't have drank it.

Nan bottled her own potion and Ginny noticed that most everyone was moving up to the front with theirs as well. Ginny stared at her tea-like potion and then up at Nan's barely tinted orange one. The Slytherins were snickering again. In a fit of anger, Ginny wanded her potion away.

"Should have given up sooner," Nan said sympathetically.

Ginny held back her retort to her friend and put her stuff away back on the supply table. The room was emptying out. . . . not as nasty as he makes himself out . . . played through her mind. "Nan, stay with me a minute, I want to ask Professor something," she whispered.

Nan stared at her as though she were nuts. Ginny put away her books to get ready to go and slung it over her shoulder. Nan came around and pulled on Ginny's shoulder. The room only had a few stragglers now.

Ginny shook Nan's hand off. "Professor, can I ask you what I did wrong on my potion?" she asked.

Snape sat at the desk with the class' potions lined up in front of him and the grade book out. "If you truly wish to," he said in a dangerous tone, as though she had asked if she could drink poison.

Nan grabbed Ginny's arm and tugged. "Let's just go Ginny," she said a little frantically. The door boomed closed. They were the only ones left in the room.

Ginny spun on her friend. "If you are scared, just leave," Ginny snapped. Not sure why Nan was setting her off so much, or maybe it was just the lack of loyalty. With a huff, Nan left. The door boomed closed again.

Ginny faced Snape at his desk. He had one brow raised and he considered her closely as though she were an interesting specimen floating in preservative. She frowned. "You are very cruel, sir," she commented in defeat.

Both of his brows went up. "We all must play our roles in this, Ms. Weasley." He picked up the first bottle in front of him and held it to the light before making a mark in the grade book. "What was the white precipitate?" Snape asked her evenly.

"Trillium Salt or something," Ginny guessed.

Snape graded another one. "Your potion was fine at the end. Why did you banish it?" he asked, his voice now conversational.

Ginny frowned. "It was brown from the heat. Carbonized. I didn't want to have to carry it past the Slytherins."

"The carbon was harmless," Snape said, working his way down the list. "How is it that your parents reserved all of the Weasley pride for their last child?" Snape went on.

Ginny scowled at him but couldn't find a retort. She had to privately admit to years of public embarrassment from her older siblings. Instead, she waited silently. Snape moved the last potion bottle to the other side of the desk. "Come here," he beckoned her to the other side of the desk.

Not as nasty. . . Ginny reminded herself and walked around in time to see Snape put an 'E' beside her name, for exceeds expectations. He closed the ledger-like book with a thump, when he was certain she had noted it.

"You have class, do you not?" he asked, still in a conversational tone.

Ginny shook herself and nodded, then adjusted her bag on her shoulder and headed for the door. At the door, Snape's voice stopped her. "Ms. Weasley, it would be good if you would appear upset as you depart. It keeps things much more straightforward."

She glanced back at him. He was watching her closely still as he rubbed the tips of the fingers of his left hand together. How does Harry put up with this? she wondered. She nodded and composed herself for a good exit.

Nan still waited for her in the hallway and a group of Slytherins loitered nearby. "He is so unfair," Ginny breathed harshly to her friend when the door swung closed behind her. She ran off a few more complaints in almost feigned anger as they went up the steps to the Entrance Hall. After all, this was an easy roll to play.

During his Friday Legilimency lesson Harry thought Snape seemed distracted. Ginny had given Harry permission to peek at her mind during his lessons too, so Harry was switching between his two friends. He was behind on his sleep though and wanting to stop. He had just finished an exercise where he took over a conversation for Hermione, with her cooperation, as she sat in a group in the Gryffindor commons room. Harry tried not to yawn as he waited for another instruction from his teacher.

Snape rubbed his forehead as though he had a headache. "I am certain you would rather be with your friends, Potter, celebrating the last night of your detention."

"Yes," Harry admitted. He was more anxious tonight that he had been yet, since he didn't know how he was going to suppress his reactions. He felt like his insides were a mangled knot and it didn't loosen as he stood and picked up his books. "I'll just go then, sir," Harry said. At Snape's casual gesture toward the door, Harry left, suppressing his concerns about what would happen to Snape if Voldemort decided he was failing, or worse, disobeying.

Harry celebrated Friday with his friends until McGonagall came up and forced them to close it down.

Once in bed with the room finally quiet, Harry didn't fall asleep immediately as he expected to. He lay in a exhausted haze, careful to keep his mind free of anything disturbing enough to bring his guard down. It made it hard to face what was bothering him since facing it would mean letting himself feel whatever it was.

Thinking about his afternoon with Ginny made Harry smile into the darkness. In the end it was so easy to touch someone who liked you. Ginny hadn't minded at all, in fact probably the opposite.

While he was feeling good enough to, Harry reviewed what had happened with Snape. It made him cringe still just as much as before. He huffed out loud and rolled over suddenly, desperate to succumb to sleep and wishing he had another dose of that potion.

The weekend passed in a blur. He and Ginny found more time to talk away from the others, which became more difficult as Ron seemed to be everywhere all of a sudden. They talked about small things finally, which was awkward after starting out with the big ones the other day.

Harry wished the weekend wouldn't end but his wishes were in vain as classes and eventually his evening lesson came around again.

Harry cleared his mind and walked down a mercifully empty dungeon corridor. Snape had not managed to be quite his usual nasty self earlier in the day during class. Harry didn't know whether to worry about that or not.

"Come in, Potter."

After Harry closed the door, Snape stood up to spell it before returning to his desk. Snape sat down and considered Harry's translation of Milliforth for a long minute.

Harry was now starting to worry. What if Voldemort had gotten angry at the delay? Harry wondered. "Are you all right, sir?" he asked carefully.

Snape shifted his gaze to him over the parchment. "Yes. Why do you ask?" he answered evenly.

"You aren't your usual vitriolic, vindictive self, sir."

Snape lowered his eyelids. "So you own a dictionary, Potter."

"That's more like it," Harry quipped and then slouched in his chair. He really had no energy for lessons today. "Not to sound eager under any circumstances, but can we skip the lesson and get on with it so I can go up to bed."

Snape looked at him in silence.

"I could have used that potion last night," Harry commented. And the night before. "Can I get a week's supply?" Harry asked, only half joking.

"Only if you wish to never sleep normally again without it," Snape stated. "I can give you something different, less invasive." He stared at Harry some more. "Let's just try one thing. What is Malfoy Senior doing right now?"

Harry woke up at that and went thoughtful. What would Lucius Malfoy feel like right now? "There are no longer Dementors at Azkaban, right?" Harry asked, trying to think about the wizard prison without them.

"No. Why do you ask?" Snape asked curiously.

"I need to know something about the person, I think. Like what they are feeling emotionally or physically if I don't know them well. Or maybe even if I do." Harry's brow furrowed as he thought about it. "Maybe I do need to know that always." He fell silent and tried to imagine what it would be like to be in prison. To be Draco's father, to be Voldemort's Lieutenant. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back and drifted a little. He sat that way for a long time. Snape didn't disturb him at all, which Harry found a little flattering, frankly.

Harry had it then. "He wants to get a message out. He is trying to figure out which guards have weaknesses he can exploit." Harry shook his head. "That is all I get."

"Do you know what the message is?"

"No. He wasn't thinking about the content, just the urgency." Harry grinned, to Snape's bemusement. "He also wishes the prison laundry were a little easier on his expensive robes." Harry laughed.

Snape rubbed his fingers over his upper lip. "You are such a tempting tool, Potter."

"I am a very limited, sir."

Snape shook his head. "Your limitations are minor compared to your power. You could always be set up to meet someone one wished to spy upon."

"You think it’s wasted on me?" Harry asked.

Snape froze. "You are reading my thoughts?" he asked.

"No, just guessing. I won't do that unless you request it, Professor."

Snape rubbed his thumb over his nails as he looked at Harry. "So I do not fall under the blanket Slytherin enemy policy."

Harry sounded confused as he said, "No, sir."

Snape returned to looking at his fingertips and remained silent.

Harry began to sense that Snape was going to put him off again. This made his heart rate go up in concern. He stood up and stepped around to the side of the desk. Definitely something strange was going on. Snape didn't look up at him as he moved.

"Sir?" Harry prompted, scowling slightly.

After a long pause, Snape stood up and considered Harry with intensity. He stepped around and looked directly down at Harry who resisted seeing what was going on behind those black eyes.

"Now," Snape whispered.

Harry held his breath and tried quickly to neutralize his expression. His heart rate jumped as Snape's hand reached up and brushed the side of his face softly. Uncertainty pounded at him, made him close his eyes. He held still through another brush across his hair. Both of Snape's hands, cool to the touch, grasped his neck and in the next instant he was being kissed. Harry made the mistake of gasping which had the unfortunate side effect of opening his mouth more.

Harry was being consumed, devoured, then just as suddenly, there was nothing. He was released.

He opened his eyes and gaped at his professor, bent over his desk, leaning heavily on his hands. Harry didn't know if they were clear so he didn't move. Snape closed his eyes and pulled at his hair with one hand in what looked like a gesture of self-disgust.

"He is laughing at me," Snape stated quietly.

Harry released a long-held breath in relief that they were alone again and wondered what had happened.

"Get out," Snape said harshly.

Disobeying, Harry stayed put. "Sir? Are you all right?" he asked with a tone of morbid fascination rather than concern.

"He was laughing at me," Snape repeated, his head still bowed.

"Yeah, and he has that great laugh too," Harry commented dryly.

Snape jerked around and grabbed the front of Harry's robes, white hot anger filled his eyes.

Harry cut him off. "Hey, you don't hear that laugh while he's killing your mum," he pointed out, angry as well and trying with his hands to pry Snape's off his robe.

Snape released him with a little shove away from him and leaned back on the desk as though he were dizzy. "Get out," he repeated. "Get out, your father would not be pleased with you."

"That won't work twice," Harry said. "What is wrong with you?"

Snape turned his head and looked Harry up and down. Harry blinked in surprise and realization. "Oh," he managed to say. This was a real stunner. He scratched his head and moved to pick up his stuff, including the parchments on his teacher's desk. After rolling them tighter to fit in his rucksack, Harry paused in thought.

"Sir, how do you know Voldemort was after me?" Harry slowly put the parchments away with the others. "And not you? After all you are the one with no vulnerabilities; I have tons." In fact, at the moment, Harry felt like a giant mass of them.

Snape raised his gaze to the desktop and stared hard past it. "Get out now, Potter or I will beat you silly."

Harry hoisted his rucksack. "All right, sir," he said in a tone that sounded very tired of threats and that he clearly didn't believe that one.

#########

"It must stop here," Snape stated as he stood in Dumbledore's office early the next morning.

The headmaster steepled his fingers. "Harry seemed rather sanguine during his last lesson with me," he observed.

Snape's expression went pained. "He is turning out to be more resilient than I," he said quietly, with careful enunciation. "I am losing control of the situation."

Dumbledore's brow went up. "That is certainly . . . unexpected, Severus."

Snape didn't reply, just avoided Dumbledore's gaze.

"Well, I will put things in motion then by noontime. We will have to salvage what we can after that."