Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Hermione Granger Severus Snape
Genres:
Drama Slash
Era:
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 07/17/2003
Updated: 08/11/2003
Words: 114,996
Chapters: 43
Hits: 388,758

Snakes and Lions

GatewayGirl

Story Summary:
When Ron and Hermione get together, they notice only each other. A nightmare prompts Harry to return alone to the empty Chamber of Secrets, and leads to a new look at an old enemy. Harry enjoys the company, but with Bellatrix LeStrange actively hunting him, how far can he trust a Death Eater's son? (H/D -- mostly friendship, progressing to mild slash) Sixth year. Rated R for unseemly behavior (drinking, stealing, and Dark Arts), occasional cursing (the non-magical sort), and off-screen violence.
Read Story On:

Chapter 23 - Efforts and Rewards

Chapter Summary:
Things start to improve, but the outer world intrudes
Posted:
07/27/2003
Hits:
7,433



Efforts and Rewards


True to his word, Ron began to spend more time with Harry. He even came down to Wednesday night's practice and watched, then dragged Harry into a post-practice conversation with Jason Wilkens, the newest Chaser, about the upcoming game with Ravenclaw. Between his company and Hermione's, the next few days were not as horrible as Harry had anticipated.


On Thursday morning, Harry got the letter he had been dreading from Sirius. To his surprise, it came with a messily wrapped, almost globular package. Ron leaned over.

"Think it will explode?"

"Thanks, Ron."

"Try the letter, Harry," Hermione suggested.

Harry took a deep breath. It wasn't red, at least. He opened it.


Harry,

I've calmed down, mostly, so I'm going to try this again.

I can't claim that I didn't get drunk a few times at your age, or that I never did dangerous things. I expect you know better than to believe that. But the times I did manage to come by a bottle of something strong, I shared it with James, or Remus, or James and Remus and Peter, and we did not go beyond walking distance of the school. And for that, none of us -- back then -- were the personal targets of megalomaniacal Dark Wizards. You're the perfect age for recklessness, and I don't expect sense from you, but what you did was beyond idiotic.

Don't let Dumbledore convince you that you can't survive what you need to do. I'll see to it that you do, even if you I have to take a curse for you. The world owes you a few normal years when this is all over.

Snuffles

P.S.: I've heard about your punishment. You must be bored out of your mind. Here's something to amuse you. It can be keyed to up to five players or teams and won't break anything if you use it indoors.


In the Gryffindor Common Room after lunch, Harry unwrapped the package, and the enclosed ball rose to hover four feet off the ground. When he reached over to grab it, it shot several feet higher.

"Hey!"

A seventh-year jumped up and knocked it past him.

"Keep it away from the windows!"

In response to Hermione's shrill command, the seventh-year laughed. "Battle balls almost always have anti-breakage charms. Shall we have a game?"


Harry, Ron, and Hermione went down to Care of Magical Creatures in high spirits. Hagrid brought the class a short way into the Forbidden Forest to introduce them to a Bowtruckle and acquaint them with the basics of asking it for a small amount of wood from its protected tree. When they entered Potions class together, they were laughing about the way the diminutive creature had leapt fiercely at Lavender when she had told it she needed the wood "to get out of this stupid class, you idiotic twig!"


"Harry!"

At the hail, Harry stopped in the aisle, causing Ron to bump into him. Draco was beckoning him over. "Saved you a seat," he called.

Harry was very aware of Ron, standing motionless by his side. Hermione touched his arm briefly.

"See you two later," Harry said, making it as much of a promise as he casually could. He left them and walked over to Draco.

When Harry had sat down, Draco leaned close. "It's all set," he whispered. "Snape's convinced Father to give me more of a go at you."

Harry dared a look at Ron and Hermione. Hermione was staring at her notebook, her lower lip pulled tight by her teeth. Ron was watching Harry, with undisguised dismay. Harry smiled at him briefly. "It's okay," he mouthed silently.

Snape entered. From the front of the room, he turned to survey the class. Harry watched the Potions master's attention settle on him and Draco. Snape held the focus for several seconds, the look intent, but his expression unreadable. When he turned away, Harry felt like he had just been released from a pin.

"Snape is okay, sometimes," he commented. "In a weird way."

Draco snorted. "Right. Convince him your intentions are bad, and he'll let you do anything."



In Transfiguration, McGonagall was handing back papers. When she came to the desk Harry was sharing with Neville, she did not have a paper for Harry.

"See me after class for your essay, Mr. Potter," she said, as she moved on to Seamus and Dean.

After class, Harry went to the McGonagall's desk. He was uncomfortably aware of Hermione, waiting for him at the back of the room.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

McGonagall nodded. "This paper, Harry -- it is adequate."

"Okay."

"Over the last few months, I have become accustomed to your papers being much more than adequate." McGonagall peered over her glasses at him. "You are restricted in your movements, and wasting much less time on extracurricular activities. Would you kindly explain to me why the quality of your work has declined?"

"Because I'm too bored to think?" Harry shot back.

"You mean you are not trying."

"No -- yes!." Harry forced himself to take a breath and put his thoughts in order. He started over. "Transfiguration is fairly easy for me."

McGonagall nodded acceptingly.

"I've never had to work too hard at it to do well enough."

"Well enough for what?" McGonagall asked sharply.

Harry shrugged. "To pass. To not get yelled at. To have a reasonable chance of changing things when I need to."

"But you were doing more than that, this winter."

"I was helping Draco. Draco's very... He needs to understand the theory behind things. Honestly, he'd make a good Muggle scientist, though I never dared say that to him. To explain things to Draco, I needed to understand them better than I need to understand to just do them. I had to look at some of the optional recommended readings, and figure out how the theories related to what I did when things worked." Harry hesitated. "If your class was more detailed, he'd do better at it," he added.

"I see." McGonagall flipped over the paper on her desk, and scribbled a mark on it. It was lower than Harry expected.

"I do not tolerate laziness, Mr. Potter. I shall expect you to live up to your abilities in the future."

"That was with extra work!" Harry pointed at the paper. "This is how well I do with what you require."

"And that effort will get you the grade you require to pass. Just."

She offered Harry the paper. He grabbed it and stormed out, scarcely noticing Hermione trotting along beside him.


All evening, Harry sulked about McGonagall's unfairness. He was torn between trying to excel in the subject and not putting any effort into it at all. After some thought, he began to wonder if he could do exactly as well as he had done while tutoring Draco.

"If I show I can do better, she'll expect that, next," he explained to Susara, as he started up the stairs to his dormitory.

Susara hissed in wordless agreement.

"I do not know how to do just that well," Harry continued. "Tutoring someone else might make it easier. Perhaps Neville would like some help. But he is so different from Draco, I would end up studying different things."

Harry settled down at the desk. He took his books from his bag, but did not open any of them. Susara spiraled down his arm, curled up on the pile of books, and raised her head. Harry smiled at the tableau.

"Serpent as the symbol of wisdom," he remarked.

Susara was puzzled.

"It's not important. You're doing the pose perfectly."

"Teach me the name, then," Susara insisted. Harry nearly laughed at her earnestness.

"Symbol of wisdom," he said. "But it's not a standard pose for a torclinde."

"Like this?"

"Yes. On the pile of books."

Susara flicked her tongue down along the spines of the books. "May I eat this gold, Master?" she asked formally.

"No." Harry smiled. "That's the title. If you want gold, I'll get you a galleon."

Harry brought the gold coin back and held it out to his golden snake. She reached her head out for it, and spent a moment savoring the air around it with her flickering scarlet tongue. Harry smiled with enjoyment at her pleasure. She was just stretching her mouth for the coin when the door opened. Harry ignored it.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, scandalized.

"I'm feeding my snake."

"Your snake eats money?"

"Torclindes were created from gold. They need gold to live."

"Your snake eats money," Ron said, stunned.

"Not much," Harry said with deliberate, cruel nonchalance. "Just a galleon every week or two."

"Oh," Ron said weakly.

With a flush of shame, Harry realized he had just baited Ron about money. Apologetically, he looked over his shoulder. "I'm in a very bad mood, Ron. You might want to clear out."

Ron shrugged. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of Harry's bed. "How about you tell me about it, instead?"

Harry froze, then turned his chair slightly. "Let me start," he said, "by saying McGonagall is a nasty, interfering, cold-hearted, unfair ..."

"I've heard all that before," Ron agreed, "except 'unfair.' What did she do to you this time?"



Talking with Ron actually helped. He listened to Harry rant, and sympathized, and told him it wasn't worth fighting. Reluctantly, Harry agreed. Ron pointed out that he'd never understood Transfiguration theory, either, and suggested Harry go through the optional readings and explain them to him, later. Harry agreed, and Ron, kindly, made a show of gloating about getting help with his homework.

Harry was just getting into his pajamas when the voice of Professor McGonagall summoned them to the common room. Harry threw his school robe over his nightclothes and went downstairs.

McGonagall arrived five minutes later. She started by taking rollcall. Two of the seventh years were missing. The deputy headmistress pointed her wand at her throat, then whispered something, then announced that all students should report to their common rooms immediately. Her voice came normally out of her mouth, but reverberated through the air around them. Harry thought it rather interesting to see both ends of the process at once.

Before the return of the errant seventh years, someone knocked. Gareth Reddington, the Head Boy, poked his head inside. "Dean Thomas and Simon Lloyd," he informed McGonagall. The head of house cleared her throat.

"Dean Thomas and Simon Lloyd," she said, "please accompany Mr. Reddington."

The two boys, with many nervous glances at friends, left. Harry noticed they were both black, and, he thought, both Muggle born. He wondered if either was significant.

"I regret to inform you," Professor McGonagall said formally, when the selected students had left, "that there has been another, major, Death Eater attack. There were a large number of casualties. We believe that families of students may be involved."

Harry laughed out loud. To McGonagall's look of reprimand, he said mockingly:

"What, Death Eaters' children at Hogwarts? Do you really think so?"

"It is not my concern who may be related to the attackers, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said tightly, over the snickers and disapproving looks Harry's remark garnered. "It is relationships to the victims that concern us."

Harry froze in shock. He wanted to sink into the floor. "Dean?" he managed.

"We do not know, Mr. Potter. We only know his family resides in the neighborhood which was attacked. He is being provided with the means to contact his family, if they are at available."

The portrait hole opened, and Pleasance Randall and Adam Hall entered, looking very embarrassed and frightened. McGonagall repeated her information, then sent all the students, excepting only Miss Randall and Mr. Hall, to bed.

Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Neville lay awake awaiting Dean's return. None of them had much to say. Dean came back very late.

"My family is fine," he said immediately, but he had obviously been crying. "Gemma, a girl a used to play with, is dead." He shuddered. "They said it was bad, and wouldn't give me details. I wish they would tell me. I'm sure I can think up worse things than the truth."

Harry was not as certain. Tactfully, he restrained himself from saying so.




Chapter 24 -- Political Reprecussions