Only Time

Chapter Fifteen

"So what, Mr. Snape, are you expecting to get out of these lessons?" Harry asked as he sat behind his desk and gazed steadily at Snape, who was right on time for their first dueling lesson.

"Better dueling skills, of course," Snape replied, though a roll of his eyes implied he was also saying 'What else is the point of lessons?' Harry let the rolled eyes pass--it was more important to find out exactly why Snape wanted better dueling skills.

So Harry, leaning back in his seat, asked, "For any particular reason? Several people in this school have given me the impression that your dueling skills leave little to be desired."

Snape shifted around a bit in his chair, flicking his eyes downwards and then back up so quickly that Harry nearly missed it. "Dueling isn't something that you can just stop learning," Snape said coolly, nearly coolly enough to cover up his earlier hesitation, but Harry caught it, and tucked it back into a corner of his mind for later examination.

"Okay. What are your expectations for these lessons, then?" Harry asked. "Is there anything special that you want me to teach you, or think that I should?"

Snape considered this for a moment before slowly shaking his head. "I'll see what my expectations are after our first duel," he said.

"Fair enough," Harry replied, then stood up and walked around to the front of his desk, taking out his wand and banishing the desks and chairs to the walls, leaving a wide space in the middle of the classroom for the two to duel in. They took up positions on opposite sides of the room, bowed, extended their wands, and then the duel began.

Curses began flying rampant around the room, Harry dodging Snape's wand-created arrows, Snape ducking under Harry's Confundus Charm. Harry had a few seconds to admire Snape's agility before shouting a quick shield spell, just before Snape's well-aimed Incendio nearly scorched him.

"Eructo!" Harry yelled, and saw a brief flash of Snape bending over, vomiting, before he followed up with, "Depulso!" Snape flew backward to land heavily on the desks against the wall, though before Harry could use the Disarming Spell, he'd rolled to his feet and was already firing off another hex.

Harry dodged the Impedient Jinx with ease and shot a jet of water at his student, which hit him on the arm, soaking the sleeve of his robe. Snape retaliated with a Stinging Hex to Harry's wand hand, but Harry managed to hang onto his wand despite the pain the hex caused.

On and on the duel went, until finally Harry shot a fire spell at the hem of Snape's robes, and while he was distracted by the fire, yelled, "Expelliarmus!" Snape's wand flew out of his hand and into Harry's own. Harry leisurely put out the fire, and Snape looked up at Harry with an unreadable look on his face.

"Nice duel," Harry said, tossing Snape's wand back at him. He caught it, and narrowed his eyes at Harry, as if that had not been the reaction he was expecting. But he didn't say anything, just kept his wand held out, and began twirling it between his fingers.

"Nice duel," Harry repeated, "though there may be a few things that you want to watch out for. First of all, don't get distracted. With that last fire spell I used, you could have rolled on the ground to put it out, along with presenting me with a moving target. And there's several times that you've hesitated before cursing me again. Try not to hesitate as much as possible. Is there anything you would like to say?"

Snape stopped twirling his wand, apparently truly thinking about the question. "I can ask any question, and you won't get angry?" he asked abruptly, and Harry raised an eyebrow. What kind of question does he want to ask that might make me angry?

"Ask away," Harry said. "I can't promise that I'll answer it without knowing what it is, but I won't ever get angry at you for a question. That's how you learn."

Snape glanced suspiciously at him, as if mistrusting Harry's quick agreement, but asked his question anyway. "...Would you teach me Dark Arts spells as well?"

Harry blinked, taken aback. He's asking the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for Dark Arts spells? Harry looked at Snape, but he seemed sincere, and the Snape he knew wouldn't have asked that question for a joke. Are there even any Dark Arts spells that I know and he doesn't? Harry wondered, remembering Snape's reputation.

"What makes you think that I know Dark Arts spells?" Harry asked, buying time for him to think about whether to agree or disagree.

Snape snorted. "Professor, already you've taught us more about the Unforgivables than I've been able to read in any book outside the Restricted Section, and you are experienced enough in your subject to teach us as well as you do. If I'm not mistaken, part of that experience includes countering Dark spells, and to counter Dark spells, you must know what they are in the first place. Besides that, you've never denied fighting in the war. The Dark Lord's supporters use Dark spells more often than not, so you would have seen them that way."

Harry blinked. He must have been thinking a lot about this... "Well, alright then. I do know several Dark spells, though I don't like to use them more than I have to. But why do you want to learn them?"

"To be able to know and recognize anything an enemy might throw at me," Snape answered promptly, leading Harry to believe that he'd been preparing this answer as well, though it wasn't anything Harry could call him on. "I have to know what I'm up against if I want to be able to effectively counter it."

Harry blinked again, and then shrugged. He probably already knows anything that I could teach him anyway, he reasoned. He did have that reputation for knowing more Dark spells in his first year than the seventh years, and I certainly don't know that many. Just what I learned from the war, as he's already figured out. Harry's respect for Snape increased. He doesn't want to seem suspicious for knowing so many Dark spells, so by getting me to "teach" him, he's effectively smoke screening everyone. He could tell them that he learned them from me, if someone asks, that way both getting suspicion off him and onto me! I'm tempted to refuse, but how can I? He has presented a logical argument, and maybe if I'm the one to teach him, I can instill a few more morals in the process. His mind now made up, Harry smiled at Snape.

"Very well, then," he said. "Would you rather learn in a classroom setting, with me teaching the spells and you repeating them, or would you like to be presented with them in a duel?"

"A duel," Snape replied immediately. "It will be much more interesting that way."

Harry nodded. "A duel it is, then. But this will not be just a Dark Arts duel--I'm afraid I don't know enough Dark spells for that. After the duel is over, you can identify with spells were Dark and which ones were not."

Snape nodded, then took up the dueling position again, his wand held out in front of him, Harry opposite him in the same position. They bowed to each other, and then the next duel began.

Again, curses began flying across the room, but this time doing more damage to each participant. Harry hit Snape's arm with a Dark cutting spell, which sliced open his skin and blood started trickling down his arm, but it wouldn't be clotting; that was why that particular spell was Dark. Blood started pooling on the floor, and Harry resisted the urge to warn Snape not to slip in it. If Snape was any good at being observant and logical--which Harry had to concede that he was--he would know to avoid the blood.

"Oculi Decipio!" Snape shouted, disregarding the blood that dripped down his arm, and Harry cursed as the spell hit him full on. Immediately the Hallucination Hex began taking effect on his eyes, causing him to see strange things all over the room. But Harry ignored the dancing purple people around Snape and the bouncing mangoes on the desk, and closed his eyes, concentrating on sound rather than sight. He'd end the spell as soon as Snape gave him room to.

Then Snape shouted a wind spell that would have grabbed him, swirled him around, and slammed him against the wall, had he been in his original spot. Hearing the wind swooping towards him, Harry ducked out of the way, then pointed his wand at his eyes, muttering, "Finite Incantatem." He opened his eyes, and the room was back to the way it had been before the spell hit, save that he and Snape were in different positions, and Snape was looking infuriated that Harry had defeated both of his spells, though his contained his anger and shot off an ice spell, which Harry dodged with ease.

The duel went on, and Snape began to tire visibly, as his movements and dodges became slower, and more spells hit him than had before. Harry knew that blood loss was beginning to take a toll on him, so he raised his wand, about to cast a spell that would end the duel, when Snape suddenly smiled, and said, "Serpensortia."

Harry froze as the snake burst from Snape's wand and started to slither towards him. Just like second year, he thought, his eyes focused on the snake. Now how can I get out of this without giving myself away...?

Harry glanced at Snape, waiting for him to cast another spell while Harry was distracted with the snake, but Snape was tearing strips of his robe off and binding them around the cut on his arm, trying to slow the bleeding. Harry raised his arm to hex Snape while he was trying to bandage his arm, but the snake slithered faster towards him, and he yelled off the first spell he could think of, the Impediment Jinx, which froze the snake for a few seconds before it started coming after him again.

Harry flung and ice spell at it, then, as it was still unaffected, a Stunner, which it just shook off. After a few minutes, Snape joined the fray again, but whenever Harry took his attention off the snake to try and curse Snape again, the snake lunged at him, its fangs snapping perilously close to his ankle again and again. So Harry set a spell letting him know when any spells were coming towards his back, and concentrated on the snake.

However, he soon realized that the snake had to be a magical entity, especially coming from a spell, and so other spells had little to no effect on it. It was time to try the one thing he knew would work, because it had worked before. He just had to figure out a way to make sure Snape never told anyone.

He closed his eyes, then opened them and looked down at the snake, poised to strike at his leg again. "Stop," he hissed in Parseltongue, and the snake froze. In the background, Harry heard Snape drop his wand in surprise, but he didn't pay any attention to that. He had to deal with the snake right now.

"You...you are a snake-speaker!" the snake hissed back, then curled itself back in apology. "Forgive me for trying to attack you!"

"You are forgiven," Harry told the snake. "Neither you nor the one who called you had any knowledge of what I am, and I cannot hold that against you. But I'm sure I can trust that you won't be attacking me again?"

"Never!" the snake cried, unfurling itself in its enthusiasm. "We cannot hurt the snake-speakers; it is part of our pact! Please, let me serve you to try and make up for nearly attacking you!"

Harry sighed. "You may stay with me," he said, "but I would like to be told more about this 'pact' later. And once I have time, there are a few things that I will need to explain to you."

The snake nodded fervently, an extremely odd gesture to see a snake doing, and Harry heard the clatter of a dropped wand behind him yet again, then a soft scrape against the floor as it was picked up. "Yes, Master!" it said. "I shall do whatever you wish of me!"

Harry winced at being called 'Master'. "First things first, don't call me Master," he advised. The snake nodded again, then slithered up his robes and curled itself around his shoulders. "Now I must deal with the one who called you here." The snake nodded again, and, satisfied that the snake wouldn't do any more harm, Harry turned to Snape, who was staring at him, his face pale.

"You're a Parselmouth," Snape stated, clutching his wand so tightly that his knuckles were white, his eyes wide.

Harry nodded, fixing a stern expression on his face, and Snape gulped. Harry supposed he must be an imposing sight, staring at Snape sternly with a snake around his neck. A part of him blinked at the sight of Snape afraid of him, but he ignored that part and said, "I can trust you not to mention this to anyone, can't I, Mr. Snape?"

Snape nodded quickly. "I won't tell anyone," he promised.

"Good," Harry said mildly. "Because I would really hate to have to give you a month's worth of detentions and take one hundred points away from Slytherin for being indiscreet about a professor, wouldn't you?" Snape nodded again, and Harry inclined his head towards the door. "It's nearly curfew, so you should get going. I'll be seeing you in class, Mr. Snape."

Nodding again, though his face was still pale and his knuckles white, Snape strode out the door, not looking back at Harry. Once he was gone, Harry slumped against the nearest wall, rubbing his temples.

"Well, now I'm going to have to go see Dumbledore," he said aloud.

"Who is this Dumbledore, and why must you see him, M--ah, what should I call you if you don't wish to be called Master?" the snake asked as Harry set off out the door and down the hallways towards Dumbledore's office.

"Just call me Harry," Harry replied. "And as for Dumbledore, he's the headmaster of this school. Since it is rather important, and because I don't need anyone knowing that I'm a Parselmouth, I'd better tell him."

"Ah," the snake said, and was silent. Harry reached the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office, and spoke the password--Fizzing Whizbees--and watched as the gargoyle moved aside, revealing the moving stairs towards the office itself. Once he was at the top, Harry knocked on the door, and at the headmaster's invitation, entered.

"Ah, Harry," the headmaster said jovially as Harry entered, putting the quill in his hand down on the parchment he had just been writing on, and waving Harry to take a seat, which he did. "What may I do for you?" His eyes flicked to the snake on Harry's shoulder, but he showed no signs that anything was wrong.

"You remember how I told you that I would be giving Mr. Snape dueling lessons?" Harry asked, and Dumbledore nodded. "Well, the first of those was tonight, and Mr. Snape was enterprising enough to cast the Serpensortia spell."

"And that's where this lovely snake on your shoulder came from, I presume," Dumbledore asked, and the snake lifted its head, gazing at the old man. "But if it came from Serpensortia against you, then why is it on your shoulder?"

Harry sighed. Now came the part that he'd been hoping to keep from the headmaster, though he supposed he wouldn't have been able to keep it that much longer--Dumbledore was very good at figuring things out that most people would rather have kept to themselves. "I'm a Parselmouth, sir," Harry said evenly, and watched as Dumbledore blinked in surprise. So things do surprise him sometimes! Harry thought amusedly.

But Dumbledore got his surprise under control very quickly. "Lemon drop?" he offered, holding the tin of Muggle candy out to Harry, who refused it with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes. Dumbledore took one himself and popped it in his mouth before putting the tin away. He sucked on it in silence for a while before he said, "So I assume young Mr. Snape knows of your ability as well?"

Harry nodded in resignation. "I would have preferred to keep it from him, but the snake here seems to be impervious to most magic, so the only thing I could think of to get it to stop trying to attack me was to speak to it. After I talked to it for a while, it decided that it wanted to stay with me, and I told Mr. Snape to not tell anyone or he would find himself in detention for a month and losing one hundred house points."

Dumbledore chuckled. "You handled that very well, then," he commented. "I believe we can trust Mr. Snape not to tell anyone. Now may I ask how you ended up with this ability?"

Harry shifted in his seat. "It's something that will...be rather important in the future," he said, " so I can't really tell you right now, except that I was not born with it."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at that, but seemed to accept for now that it was not something that Harry was disposed to talk about. "Very well, then," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Does this snake have a name?"

Harry blinked. He hadn't thought of that. Quickly he asked the snake, "Do you have a name? It is probably not very polite of me to keep referring to you as 'snake.'" As Harry spoke in Parseltongue, he saw Dumbledore's eyebrow go up even higher, but he ignored it.

"I have no name but what you might give me, Harry," the snake replied. Harry smiled at how it had remembered to call him by his name, but frowned again.

"It doesn't have a name, sir," he reported to the headmaster. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions as to a good one?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "How about Sara?" he suggested. "It is a female, isn't it?"

Harry quickly conferred with the snake on both counts, and then smiled. "That's what she says, sir. And she says that Sara is a good name, and she'll be glad to be called that."

"Good, good," Dumbledore said. "Now if that's all, then you might want to go put Sara in your quarters. We wouldn't want someone to be afraid of her, would we?" he winked.

Harry laughed, and stood up. "Thank you, Professor. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Harry," he replied, and Harry left, with Sara around his neck, still smiling.