Blood Magic

74- Carelessness

"You have detention for what?" Hermione asked, her voice incredulous.

"Ron wanted to go try firewhisky at the Hog's Head." Harry rearranged his cards. "Since, he noted, you were out of the way."

"And you went along with it?"

"Yes, but I refused to drink anything. So he has five nights' detention, but I only have two. And I think McGonagall's actually pleased with me, though she can't say so, of course."

"If that's pleased, I'd hate to see angry," Ron snapped.

"Angry was Saturday night, and you'd have seen it if you looked. She was all right, tonight -- when she was looking just at me, anyway. She's bloody annoyed at you."

Ron slumped. "I'm going to get a Howler from Mum -- I know I will."

"And you'll deserve it!" Hermione said tartly.

Harry tossed down a card. "At the risk of sounding like a girl -- she's right, you know."

"Oh, stow it!"

"All right. Won't mention it again." Harry considered his hand. "Shall we get together in private, tomorrow? Our usual place?"

Ron looked furtively around. "All right," he said casually. "After breakfast?"

"Sounds good. Hermione?"

"I suppose. I might need to bring some work along."

This time it was Ron's eyes that Harry met in empathy.

"We don't mind, Hermione. It's part of your unique charm."

"What?"

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't study compulsively. Bring anything you want."

"I wish I could get him in fancy dress."

They were in the Room of Requirement. Harry had just concentrated on a place to talk, and they had ended up with a room with a large fireplace and a row of tall windows along the side wall. Harry was lying on a sheepskin in a patch of bright sunlight and looking up at Hermione, who was sitting in a cozy armchair writing on a lapdesk.

Ron, his long body stretched out by the fire, made a strangled noise. Hermione's eyes lit up.

"Oh -- remember how you said Remus called him "dear hawk? What about a hawk costume? You could attach feathers to a cape, and --"

"And of course you have hundreds of feathers lying around."

Hermione frowned at Ron. "Owl feathers, yes. We could use the By Class spell to transfig--"

"But," Harry interrupted, "it would not be normal behavior for him to do that, and he needs to behave normally."

"Oh." Hermione sat back.

Ron grinned. "Too bad, when you put it like that -- watching everyone else stare would have been fun."

"Oh, just wait another day for that."

"Oh?"

Harry smiled nervously. "Well, think. On the first of November, probably at dinner, everybody will find out, and if they don't then, it will be in the papers the next morning."

Ron's eyes widened. "Rough."

"I'm looking forward to it, actually -- well not them finding out, but them knowing -- having it over with and not having to sneak around so much." Harry sniggered. "And if I prepare myself properly ... it could be funny. I suppose that's the way to think about it."

Hermione's watch chimed and she looked at it anxiously. "It's time for me to try checking on Shadow. Could you two be quiet while I get into the trance? It doesn't matter once I'm under it."

Harry nodded. "Go ahead."

Hermione put aside her work, straightened her back, and let out a shaky breath, then began to breathe slowly and deliberately. Harry found it entertaining to watch her do the trance properly, considering how he had found her sprawled on the floor during her first experiment. He waited until she was clearly under before daring to look at Ron.

"Has she found him yet?" Ron whispered.

Harry nodded. "Not the last two times, but the one before that. She doesn't get him if he's asleep, and he sleeps a lot, really."

"Couldn't they cast a status spell on him?"

"If they do that, he's broadcasting, or something, and he can be detected by magic. As it is now, he's a completely normal ferret, except for when she links to him."

"I still think having a ferret is weird." Ron took a Chocolate Frog out of his bag and turned the unopened package over and over in his hands. "Speaking of which -- how's the ferret?"

Harry shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. You saw him working with Hermione, on Friday."

"Yeah." Ron laughed slightly. "Wouldn't have believed that if I saw it in a crystal ball. Almost as strange as the nastiest professor at Hogwarts acting like Mum did when Charlie crashed his broom trying to fly with his eyes shut."

"What do you mean?"

"The way he was yelling at you -- about the potion, or whatever it was."

"Ron ... this is Professor Snape. He yells at people all the time."

"Yeah, but not like he cares." Ron shifted uneasily and cleared his throat. "So ... heard from Fred and George yet about the tunnel you couldn't remember?"

"They said they were never in it themselves, but they know it starts somewhere in Greenhouse Four."

"Ouch." Ron shuddered. "Don't suppose we could bring Neville in?"

"Ron, we're big, capable sixth years. We can get into Greenhouse Four without getting eaten by orchids."

"In, yeah. I want to get out, too, though."

"We'll manage. We've managed Death Eaters and giant spiders -- we can certainly handle a few plants."

Hermione yelped. The boys turned quickly, and saw her batting up into the air.

"She's losing herself in the animal, again."

Ron looked anxiously between them. "She's not supposed to do that, is she?"

"No. That's one of the things she's been working on. Shh." With that admonition, Harry turned his attention to Hermione. He called her name softly a few times. Slowly, she relaxed back.

"Where are you?"

"Couch. The girl is playing. She likes to -- running! Back and forth and scrabble up the back and he's so angry, and then--" She burst out giggling.

"Shadow is angry?"

"We love it. Your boy is --" She began giggling again, then laughing, until her eyes blinked opened.

"Oh no!" she gasped, bending over from the laughter. "Oh, I shouldn't lose him that way when I try to examine it. Oh, god! That was hilarious."

"Maybe you should have a pensieve and not try to examine it when it happens."

Hermione managed a quick nodding motion between gasps.

"What was so funny?" Ron demanded.

"Draco! Pansy has him -- Shadow -- down in -- it looks like it might be the Slytherin common room -- and she's playing with him and getting him frantic. And Draco is livid -- I don't know what she's saying to him, but it's clearly all to wind him up."

"Do you think Shadow's safe?"

"Oh." Hermione closed her eyes as her face scrunched up in concentration. "Mmm ... yes, I think he's safe. Draco looked ready to punch Pansy, but wasn't going near the ferret. Damn. I lost all the words." She stretched. "And I'm starving. Is it lunch time?"

"Probably close."

"Let's get food, then look for the last tunnel."

Greenhouse Four was anticlimactic. Hermione's spell found a hollow under the floor barely three steps in from the door, and out of reach of the more aggressive plants. The tunnel was narrow, but tall enough for even Ron to walk upright for most of its length. Beams here and there reinforced the ceiling. It came out under a large overhang -- almost a cave -- in the hills north of Hogsmeade. They made it back in time for Harry and Ron to get dinner before their detention with Filch.

Detention with Filch was horrible, but that, Harry thought, was a bit like saying water was wet. They were done cleaning the storage barrels and had just finished washing off what they could of the slug slime from their hands and wrists, when the door opened to admit Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Filch," she said. "Are the boys finished?"

"For tonight," Filch answered, leering unpleasantly at them.

"Well, it's only Mr. Weasley that you'll have back tomorrow. Now, the headmaster wishes to speak to them before they go to bed, so if you'll excuse us...."

Harry walked next to Ron, following their head of house, at first, but after the second corner, he moved forward.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Does the headmaster usually speak personally to students about this sort of thing?"

"Occasionally." She gave him a wry smile. "Honestly, Mr. Potter, the trouble you attract is often difficult to fathom. I was almost relieved to see you involved in such standard misbehavior."

"Wouldn't have been if I'd done it with Draco Malfoy, I expect."

She hesitated, then nodded quickly. "I apologize for my reaction to that. It was ... childish." She let out a quick breath. "I had not noticed your friendship, and it took me by surprise." Her face twitched. "To say the least."

"We need to learn to cooperate. The Sorting Hat has told us that for the last two years, and I think it's true."

"Which is why the headmaster placed you with Professor Snape, this summer, as I understand it."

Harry nodded.

McGonagall cleared her throat slightly. "Has it ... helped?"

Harry wanted to say it had helped some, but thought that might endanger his father. He shrugged. "Not much. Maybe he's too old to learn to cooperate."

McGonagall's eyebrows shot up, and Harry belatedly remembered that she was much older.

"Well," she said, amused, "if he is too old, then I need not attempt it."

"Sorry," Harry said. "S- Professor Snape seems -- he's awfully old for his age. Except when he's not."

She snorted. "Eloquent as usual, Mr. Potter."

Dumbledore was waiting for them in his office. He excused Professor McGonagall politely, then turned to them.

"Well. Right on schedule, I see, Mr. Weasley -- so far, only Percival has not been in here for drinking as a sixth year. I suggest earplugs at breakfast tomorrow. Harry, your father wishes to talk to you. Please return to Gryffindor, pretend to go to bed, and portkey down to your dungeon room."

Harry nodded. "Now?"

"If you would. I have rather more to say to your friend."

Harry nodded. "All right. Good night, Ron."

Harry was uncomfortable about meeting his father, but not as much so as last time. He peered out of his room and found Severus in the kitchen, eating what looked like breakfast.

"Hi?"

"Hello. How was detention?"

"Have anything that gets slug slime off skin?"

Severus gestured to the cabinet of potions. "Triangular blue bottle. Don't use the triangular green one, or you'll end up with very clean scales."

Harry took out what looked like the right bottle. "This one?"

"You're not color blind. Very good."

Severus ate quickly while Harry washed. When Harry sat down, he was spreading marmalade on the last slice of toast.

"Tea? I think I ate all the food. We could get more if you want."

"I'm not really hungry. I ate a lot at dinner."

"Right. It would be evening." Severus rubbed between his eyes. "My schedule is absurd. The Dark Lord has had me in his lab all weekend, and I'll no doubt be in the one here for two days more."

"Can I help?"

Severus shook his head. "Not worth the risk. Not when we're so close." He looked down at his tea. "So. I hear you were in the Hog's Head buying firewhisky."

"I didn't drink any. It was for Ron. He gave me absolute crap about not drinking, too."

"Hagrid says you whipped around in a panic when he came in."

Harry reddened. "From the expression on Ron's face, I was expecting Death Eaters, or something."

"Who would have had time to kill you."

Harry, reluctantly, nodded. "Maybe."

"So, what did you learn from this?"

"Sit facing the door?"

To Harry's surprise, his father smirked and nodded. "Exactly." He frowned. "A ridiculously basic thing for you to forget."

"I take it you're not too upset with me?"

Severus leaned forward. "Did your friend really give you trouble?"

"He called me a coward, and a girl, and other things."

"Gryffindors don't take well to 'coward.'" Severus smirked. "I can usually get a Gryffindor to do anything with that."

"Yeah." Harry shrugged. Remembering Sirius hurt. "On the other hand, he was being an idiot, and he usually gets over these things."

Severus was silent for a minute. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Reminding you of him." Severus didn't need to say who "he" was.

"How about goading him?"

Severus tensed. "He was ... I could never ... I couldn't let him be. Having the upper hand over Black ..." He scowled. "I did what I could, at the end."

"I know. And he would have been reckless even without you, but...." Harry stopped. This, also, would never be resolved, no matter what he, or anyone else, did.

"You loved him." Severus's voice was bitter.

Harry could only nod.

"He tried to kill me."

"So? You did kill people -- lots of them, I gather." Harry ignored his father's sharp intake of breath. "I forgive you; can't I forgive him? He was fun and brave and affectionate. He was worse than useless at taking care of me, but he tried."

"Worse than?"

"He ... He called me a coward, too, more or less. I didn't want him contacting me in the Gryffindor fire and I refused to meet him in Hogsmeade and he said James would have enjoyed the risk. And he suggested I sneak out to the Shrieking Shack --"

"That ... IDIOT!"

"The funny thing was, I would have met him if it wasn't for the danger to him. So I was more worried about his safety than he was about mine." Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He knew Sirius had loved him. It hadn't been lack of affection that made him treat the danger so lightly. "Sometimes he seemed younger than me."

Severus took a deep breath. "He was a bit mad, I think. I, of course, always considered him unstable, but even his friends seemed to feel that twelve years in the company of dementors had ... unfortunate consequences."

Harry nodded. "Or twelve years of avoiding dementors. I mean, he spent most of his time as a dog, right? And as I understand it, animagus form has a certain relation to essential personality, but by staying in that form so much of his time he would have emphasized those traits. So he had very ... basic reactions to things, and he'd lost control of them, rather than developing it, the way he might have if he was out in the world with, oh, jobs, and relationships, and a place to take care of, and that sort of thing."

Severus nodded. "Possibly."

Harry considered that a significant concession. Severus seemed to, as well, for he shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Speaking of relationships -- What are you and Hermione doing about the ball?"

"She's found someone else -- accepted the first person who asked, I think. I'm going with -- well, Olivia Wilkenson -- she's one of yours --."

"Wilkenson! How on earth did you end up --?" His face tightened unpleasantly. "Malfoy."

"If that's your guess at how I ended up with a Slytherin date, yes. We've met, and I found her pleasant. I think she'll be fun."

"You realize, of course, that she is highly ambitious?"

"Yeah, I'd noticed that little snake on her robes."

Severus did not smile. "Even for a Slytherin. Her goals, furthermore, are political."

"We talked about that a bit."

"And have you considered you would be of considerable value to her, in that arena?"

"Potentially, yes. I could also be a liability."

Severus shook his head. "Not unless Voldemort wins, and she has already gambled that he will not." He grimaced. "I have heard that she may be a bit ... loose."

Harry smirked. "Really? I'll have to keep an eye out for that."

"I suggest you don't. She will use you, somehow."

"No more than I let her."

Severus scowled. "Do you know the Sterilization Hex?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"The Sterilization Hex. So you do not get her ... with child, should you be so undisciplined."

Harry felt his face flood with heat. "No, I ... Wouldn't she take care of that?"

A spasm of something -- rage or disgust -- crossed Severus's face. "You're not a squib, boy! The girl doesn't need that embarrassment. Why should she do it?"

"Well, she's the one who'd get pregnant, isn't she?"

"And you're the one who would pay her bride price to marry her, or several times that to not, and be unmarriageable -- well, perhaps not you, as you are Harry Potter -- but even you would find it harder to marry, and more expensive, after that sort of disgrace."

Harry felt an unnecessary panic rising at the words.

"Well, nice of you to tell us! I mean, how am I supposed to know that's how it works? I'm pretty sure the most reliable Muggle birth control is done by the girl."

"The girl!" Severus looked as if this was scarcely credible. "If you sterilize a woman, Harry, it's permanent!"

"But with men it's not?"

"No. Your body constantly makes more seed."

"Oh." Harry frowned. "I don't think Muggles do it that way."

"Hmph. Well, that could explain the reputation of Muggle boys for being criminally careless."

Harry thought of Olivia's costume choice. The Muggle boy and the debutante. Well, she could be setting me up -- or she could just think it's hot.

"You know," he said, "we really ought to be taught more. Muggle-born students, I mean, and people like me. We don't just magically know these things."

Severus threw his hands up in the air. "And we don't know what you don't know! Who would ever consider having a girl be responsible for not having babies? Girls are supposed to have babies -- it's not even proper!"

"To you."

Severus gestured dismissal. "Perhaps you should write something up. For now, however, I had better teach you the hex." He drew out his wand. "The incantation is 'Sterilis' and the motion is this quick inward spiral, then pull -- like this." He demonstrated at empty air, then had Harry repeat the hex. Harry was certain his own face must be crimson, but Severus seemed to be moving from agitation to amusement.

He's fine, as long as he can torture me. Harry found his resentment did not go very deep. It was certainly better to find this out in a conversation, however embarrassing, than by direct experience.

"That looks right. Now, I think you'd better try it out."

Harry twitched. He was damn well not taking off his trousers in front of -- well, any teacher, relation or not.

"Put on your invisibility cloak for a moment; I need to open the door."

Harry wasn't sure what to ask, or if he wanted to. He swung on his cloak and tried to enjoy being temporarily relieved of his father's scrutiny.

Severus, meanwhile, crossed to the door and opened it. He took a potion from the drawer of a nearby table and spilled it on the floor, a little way into the room. When he pointed his wand at it and said something, it began to smoke and emit a sour odor. "Mus," he called. "Mus!"

Harry began to hear an odd rustling sound. The first rat that scuttled across the threshold startled him. The second amazed him. By the time there were a score or more of rats and mice lapping at the potion, he was starting to feel that he might be acquiring a slight sympathy for people who found rodents unsettling.

Severus closed the door and pointed his wand at the swarming cluster. "Genio mus impedimente," he said firmly. The swarming slowed. Severus picked up a rat, checked under its tail, and put it down again. He picked up another one, nodded, and waved it towards where he had last seen Harry.

"There -- you can try on this one. Take off that damn cloak, will you? And sit there."

Severus pointed to a spot on the floor, near the slowly feeding rodents. Harry sat. The rat Severus offered him had pendulous balls that seemed quite out of proportion to the rest of it. They rested on the floor as he scrabbled to get away. Harry had to think for a moment before recalling that Scabbers had been the same. It must be how rats are built.

"May I touch that potion?"

"Not unless you want to get bitten." An unpleasant smile crossed Severus's features. "I've seen men covered in it for execution. Nasty way to go."

Harry shuddered. "I wanted to move a little over to keep this one occupied."

"Go ahead." Severus smirked. "You do have a wand."

Oh, yes -- magic. Harry hit himself in the forehead. "Right!" He levitated a bit of the potion over to a spot in front of him. The rat stopped struggling and began to lap at it. Harry, trying not to look embarrassed, lifted the creature's tail and cast Sterilis on it ... him.

Ten minutes later, they released seven temporarily infertile male rats, fifteen well-fed female rats, and an assortment of lethargic mice back into the hallway. Harry was beyond embarrassed and just felt giddy and strange. He fell back on the couch giggling.

"Is there a problem?"

"Fuck, but I have odd evenings here!" Harry laughed. "And you can summon swarms of rats from the dungeons! I'd love to have a picture of that -- Potions Master Snape surrounded by crazed rats -- It's just what Gryffindor always suspected."

Severus shook his head, but looked close to smiling. "What, that I test things properly? I thought you all assumed I did my verification on stray first years."

Harry frowned. "Do you use the rats for testing potions?"

Snape nodded. "Quite frequently. That is why I allow so many in the dungeons -- my rooms are warded against them, of course, as is Slytherin."

"Hm. Is my room?"

"In warding, it is one of mine."

"Oh, good. Not that I mind rats ...." Harry reconsidered. "Actually, I haven't especially liked them, since Peter -- that was creepy." He rubbed his face. "I feel so strange."

Severus regarded him thoughtfully. "Wine, or hot chocolate?"

Harry scrunched back into the couch. For some reason, none of this made him feel any more grown up. "Hot chocolate, please."

"I'll call to the kitchens." Severus stood. "And after that, you should go to bed."

When Harry sneaked back into the dormitory, all was silent. His bed, however, was not empty. Ron, in his pajamas and a dressing gown, was sleeping on top of the covers.

"Hi," Harry whispered. "I'm back. You can go to bed now."

Ron blinked blearily at him. "Tell me about it."

"It's late."

"I know. Tell me."

Harry sighed. He drew the curtains around his bed and cast Secretus on them.

"I was with my dad," he said. "It was a strange night, but not bad."

"Strange how?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "He's concerned about the ambition of my partner for the ball."

"Oh really?'

"Yes, really. So he says I mustn't get her pregnant."

"What?"

"Or she'll shame me into marrying her, see? So he taught me a spell to ... um ... prevent that."

"Wow." Ron looked impressed. "I needed Bill for that."

"Well, he not only explained it to me, but thought I should practice it."

Ron winced. "He didn't -- ugh!"

"No, he opened the door and summoned rats."

"Rats!"

"Apparently, he allows rats in the dungeons -- though he protects his quarters -- to test potions on. He just calls them when he needs them."

Ron shuddered. "That's so ... Snapish."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, isn't it? So these scruffy wild rats came scrambling in, and he hit them all with impedimente, and then I had to blast the balls of those that had them."

Ron drew back, his hands up. "That is as much as I want to know."

"Really, that's as weird as it got. Then I just had hot chocolate. Go to bed, now."

Ron hunched back over.

"Ron?"

"I had another dream about you."

"What?"

"I have dreams, sometimes. I mean, ones that happen. I guess that would happen occasionally to anyone, so maybe it's nothing. But this is the fifth time I've had this one. There are a lot of werewolves, circling around a student. It was you, the first three times; now it's someone else, but you're still there. I can't see you anymore, but you're there."

"Maybe I'm one of the wolves."

"Don't joke!"

"I'm not."

Ron stared at him, his face pallid in the wandlight. "Harry, is there something you need to tell me?"

The careful question sounded so much like Dumbledore that Harry had to laugh, but he also thought back and realized what he implied. "No, sorry -- that's not what I meant. But they could go after me, right? Except I suspect there are easier targets. But if they did ... I might be a werewolf the next time. So if the dreams are true, they could be different moons."

Ron shook his head. At one point, he had thought Divination might teach him words for the things he felt he knew, but it had just taught him how to make it sound even more ridiculous. "It's the same. It's ... what might happen has changed." He let out a contemptuous snort. "Listen to me! It's all crap. I'm just having nightmares because sometimes I wake up and you're gone." He slipped his feet off the bed, breaking Harry's charm.

Harry shrugged. "Could be."

Ron stood, but did not move away. "But that werewolf woman did try to drug you." He looked down. "Be careful, next week?"

"I will. Now get some sleep." Harry grinned. "And let me know if you need a night or two of Dreamless Sleep Potion -- I could probably nick some."