Rating:
R
House:
Astronomy Tower
Genres:
Romance Slash
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 04/17/2004
Updated: 12/13/2004
Words: 132,122
Chapters: 41
Hits: 39,713

The Master Plan

StarryGazer

Story Summary:
In Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts, he goes looking for a way to survive the war with Voldemort. What he finds is a reason. Severus Snape isn't hopeful he'll survive the war; all he's looking to do is save Harry once and for all--from his own stupidity if nothing else. What he finds is redemption. And a little laughter and hope along the way.

Chapter 07

Chapter Summary:
In which Harry faces the Mighty Power of the Terrifying Trash Bin. And then, the unthinkable happens. Which of course, involves Snape.
Posted:
05/07/2004
Hits:
1,110
Author's Note:
Stop by http://www.geocities.com/foppagal/index.html


Chapter 7: Because I Said So

Harry ran into Ron as he was turning the corner to go up to Gryffindor tower--quite literally, almost knocking them both over. "Oooph!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his stomach where Harry had accidentally jabbed an elbow.

"Gosh, I'm sorry about that!" Harry exclaimed, whipping off the invisibility cloak. He'd been so glad after having got all this weird, emotional stuff out of his system finally, that he was really quite ready for sleep, and had walked back from Lupin's rooms halfway dead already. He'd been in too much of a sleepy daze to notice Ron. "I didn't see you there!"

"Nor I you!" Ron shot back, giving Harry a look. "But at least I have an excuse! I think you've dislocated my spleen," he muttered vengefully, still sore. "First I get five hours with Filch, on my hands and knees with the nastiest bleaching potion fumes you've ever smelled coming up at me, scrubbing until my hands blistered and my knees bled--they actually bled, I tell you! And then you have to go and try to plow me over like some kind of bludger that's gone round the bend."

Harry looked contrite, though Ron couldn't have known it was more because of Ron's punishment than Harry's having run into him. "Oh, Ron, I really am sorry. I shouldn't have done--anything! I'll make it up to you--you and Hermione both, I promise!" Harry wailed, looking quite sincerely miserable.

"All right, all right," Ron pacified. "It wasn't anything much really. Don't worry about it! At least we weren't both at the top of the stairs when you hurtled into me; we might have both ended up at the bottom with broken necks. And anyway, er, Filch actually wasn't there for quite a bit of the detention, so it wasn't so bad. Kept going off on his own; I was sure he was sneaking off to take a nip or two. But then Snape showed up, and the two of them slipped away for a while...Was he with you the whole night? Because it seemed like he kept ducking into our detention, which really wasn't fair, to have Snape and Filch. I could've cried when he sat down and started discussing Vanishing Potions versus Invisibility Spells and Blurring Charms, because, as he put it; what the hell is the difference anyway as long as you can't see the stain?"

"Er, he wasn't there for most of the beginning, come to think of it," Harry replied evasively, unsure how to tell Ron that neither one of them had, in fact, completed the entire detention.

"Well, he seemed to have been with us for most of the end," Ron said rolling his eyes. "I don't know how he could have been with you at all, then. But that was all right," he added quickly, seeing Harry's face fill up with guilt once more, "he kind of kept Filch distracted, and he didn't pay any of attention to us at all, so it was a relief in a way, not having anyone really watching. And they were saying the weirdest things. I mean; it was kind of too much of an intellectual discussion to imagine anyone having with Filch, but at the same time it was kind of, oh, I don't know, too trivial a conversation to hear Snape taking part in. Really, Harry, it was odd. Like surreal.

"Snape would go, 'You could always try some of my Repellant Potion on the Astronomy Tower doors. That should keep the little buggers at bay, and they wouldn't even know why. There would only be one or two in the school intelligent enough to concoct the Anti-Repellant Potion, so the likelihood would be good that it would stay on.'

"And Filch would go, 'And one of 'em's Hermione Granger,' he jerked a thumb at her, 'and you've just gone and told her what would get it off.'

"And Snape gives him a cynical look and says, 'Goody-goody Granger? What has she ever done, aside from pretending to blow up my potions lab? Not even the backbone to really do it, she's not about to go messing about at the Astronomy Tower. She'd get a reputation if she was ever caught near the Astronomy Tower.'

"'Aye,' says Filch, 'but the other one that could do is your Draco Malfoy. And he would do it, too.'

"And Snape gives this sigh and says, 'Yes, he really would. And then he'd be spraying the room with Mélange of Lust just to spite you, and it'd be utter bedlam up there. Not to mention the small fact that Repellant Potion would render Sinistra unable to gain admittance to her own classroom, which, given the state of my own, I can hardly say I'd fail to sympathize with. Well, perhaps I would, but that would leave us another classroom short, and the little beasts are already undisciplined enough, they'd go thinking it was a holiday and simply double their efforts at indolence.'"

At this, Harry gave a muffled snicker. "Yeah, that sounds like Snape all right."

"Er, speaking of which," Ron said, as they made their way upstairs, "was he really horrible to you tonight? I mean, I have to admit; I'm kind of surprised to see you...you know, looking so normal and healthy. You haven't been hexed into a prancing pig, beaten to a pulp, or even unable to complete a sentence due to the mind-numbing horror of having spent detention with Snape. What'd he do to you?"

Harry tried to look casual and yet maintain the impression that he hadn't enjoyed himself. "Eh. Could've been worse. He had me do lines, mostly, and stood there and insulted me and that sort of thing. Usual stuff, I guess. Look, let's not wake the others up. They're sure to want to know how it went, and I'm really going to be a zombie as it is," he said, changing the topic. "Why're you out so late, though? I expected Filch to let you go hours ago."

Harry was amazed when Ron's ears turned pink. "I--ah. I would've expected Snape to have done the same," he responded, sounding strangely defensive. Harry shrugged it off. So maybe they both had something they didn't particularly want to talk about. For maybe the first time in his life, he could do the smart thing and let it drop.

"All right, then," he told Ron, yawning and grinning at the same time, and they both relaxed a bit. Tomorrow, maybe Harry would be able to start thinking of a way to make it up to Ron and Hermione. Maybe, if exhaustion didn't addle his brain and keep him from thinking up anything aside from putting one foot in front of the other and making it through the day. God, he was going to be so done in tomorrow. Still, as he climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up over his head, he had to admit it was totally worth it.

**************************************************************

The next day was worse than Harry had ever imagined. It started out with him being so tired, he accidentally put on one of Dean's robes; although he considered it wasn't really his fault, they all left their clothes all over the place, and it could have easily happened before. It was just that Dean was so tall, and Harry so...less so, that it was very noticeable, and all day long people kept pointing it out. And Harry admitted they were Dean's, and it all led to some highly embarrassing jokes and rumors.

And at breakfast, Harry had gone and put some mango on his tray, and was grateful that Hermione noticed and pointed it out, because he was allergic to mango and would've swelled up like a hippopotamus and died. Then, in Transfiguration, he'd been unable to stay awake enough to keep track of what was going on, so instead of transfiguring the bracelet in front of him into a centipede, he managed to change his transfiguration notes into a sheet cake, and then couldn't transform them back. He *thought* he'd lived through the worst of the day when he actually fell asleep in Charms, but then came Quidditch practice, where he was so sluggish he didn't get out of Katie's way in time and they both ran into a tree. And after all of that came...detention with Snape.

He'd really had high hopes for tonight, because of all the revelations of the night before, and what he'd liked to think of as his newfound maturity, but he had to admit, well. It was really difficult to be mature after less than three hours of sleep, ten hours of 'Aw, Dean, it's so swee-eeet. He must simply *pine* without you if he feels like wearing your clothes, just to remind him of you,' various incidences of 'I don't care if you *are* hungry, Mister Potter. A sheet cake is not a centipede, and you were supposed to change the bracelet,' 'Could someone hit Potter with an Alarm Charm? Only he's snoring...' and of course, the dreadful feeling of ending up in a heap of arms and legs and very angry Katie Bell at the base of a particularly unforgiving oak tree.

But even all of that he might have handled, if he hadn't dragged himself into the Transfiguration room again only to hear the words, "You are almost three minutes late, Mister Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor." And looked up to see a chillingly indifferent Snape standing before a blackboard that read, 'BECAUSE PROFESSOR SNAPE SAID SO.' Harry felt a scowl form on his face as he realized what he'd be expected to copy a hundred-odd times tonight.

"Get to work, Potter," Snape snapped, and went to sit at the back of the classroom. Harry stared at him in disbelief, and the professor added, "Do I need to speak more slowly? More clearly? Do I need to retrieve my Academic to Ignoramus dictionary so I can translate it into a language you actually speak?"

Harry blinked angrily a couple of times before moving before the board. What was going on? Snape had said they'd discuss Defense Against the Dark Arts. He'd seemed...less completely vicious than this last night. Taking a deep breath, Harry started to write, trying to keep calm. He'd promised himself he'd try harder to keep his temper, but Snape was already making it difficult. Biting his lip, he risked a quick glimpse over his shoulder, to see the man glaring heatedly at him.

"The next time you feel the need to turn around and look at me, you're going to get a Hammering Hex right between the eyes." Harry was so surprised at this, he dropped the chalk. As he straightened, he caught Snape's eye again and this flustered him so badly, he dropped it again. He heard Snape snort. "Are you less frightened of the Dark Lord than of me, or is it that you just happened to drop something whenever he aimed a curse at your head? It is astounding, but your unrelenting gracelessness is on the level with your fatuousness and your overwhelming conceit."

At this, Harry finally straightened up and glowered at the professor. He didn't know what the man's problem was, but it was stopping right here. "What is the matter with you, anyway?" he demanded, causing Snape's eyes to narrow dangerously. "I'd asked you for help with defense, and you seemed like we might at least discuss it. And you were almost human last night. Near the end, anyway. What the hell changed?"

Snape stood up quickly, and the homicidal look on his face scared Harry so badly that he took a step backwards, tripped over the wastepaper bin, gave a squeak of dismay and landed on his rear end, sprawled partly behind the teacher's desk. He tried to quickly get back on his feet, using McGonagall's chair for support, but he only managed to pull the chair over on top of himself. "Managed to kill yourself yet, Potter?" Horrified, Harry looked up at Snape who was suddenly standing majestically over him, dark robes still fluttering ever so slightly from crossing the room, an impeccable eyebrow raised.

He thought for a long moment the man would continue to speak; throw some humiliating insults down at him (Harry certainly couldn't remember ever having given him such ammunition before), but his mouth only opened and shut a few times. Suddenly, he turned his back to Harry, and Harry saw the aristocratically thin shoulders shaking a little. Frowning, Harry shoved the chair off him, and finally managed to regain his feet. What was going on? he wondered. "Um. Sir? Are you all right?..." he tentatively asked, trying to get close enough to see what was happening, and still stay out of Snape's reach.

The Potions Master was making smothered hissing noises. His hands covered most of his face. Suddenly, as though it was all just too much effort, the man leaned into one of the student's chairs and collapsed, elbows on the desk, face in his hands. When he took them away, a mirthful, rolling, reverberating bass sound came out, and Harry stared at the man, staggered. Hell must have finally frozen over. Severus Snape was laughing.


Author notes: I am a review whore, as long as the reviews are semi-decent...next chapter...uh. Chapter 8, right? Where we get a little insight into why our Anti Hero is the way he is, and a little snarkiness besides.