“Leave him, Ron, let him calm down a bit,” she said in a timid voice. “This can’t be easy for him…”
“Easy?! What do you mean, ‘It can’t be easy’. Hermione! Thirty Muggles are dead just because Harry caught the snitch before Cho Chang! How would you like someone to die every time you got an ‘O’ for your homework?!”
Hermione mouthed silently as Ron yelled at her. Tears streaming down her face, she too stood up and left the Great Hall. Barely a minute later, Ron followed her looking both angry and afraid. Ginny, who had been sitting next to Hermione and was clearly confused by Harry’s reaction, reached over and picked up Hermione’s abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet. She flinched as she read the headline:
30 DEAD IN ATTACK ON MANCHESTER.
TARGETED HOUSES WERE IN POTTER STREET, BLOCK OF FLATS NUMBER 160.
So, Ginny thought desperately, Voldemort has a spy in Hogwarts. He even got the score right…
“Today you are going to brew the Integroare Draft. Miss Cookford, what is this potion used for?”
A glum looking Slytherin girl stared blankly back at Snape. “I dunno,” she answered.
Hermione scowled, if she’d said ‘dunno’ to Snape, she’d have lost at least five points from Gryffindor. Nervously, she looked at Harry who was staring stonily at the blackboard.
“Mr Potter, what is the use of the Integroare Potion?” Snape asked coolly.
“I dunno,” Harry answered, looking away from the black board and staring equally coldly at his Potions Master. Snape’s eyes narrowed into thin slits.
“What did you say, Potter?” he hissed venomously.
“I said, ‘I dunno’,” Harry answered viciously, not caring about the consequences.
“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Snape cut in icily.
Harry shrugged and stared back at the blackboard.
“Whatever…”
Snape glared at him but Harry’s face remained emotionless as he continued to stare at the board blankly.
“For your information, the potion is a relatively powerful healing draught. Some members of this class will have drunk a substantial amount of it over the last few years…” Snape looked over at Harry pointedly. Harry chose not to rise to Snape’s bait.
Snape’s lip curled as he surveyed Harry. “Start now. At the end of the lesson, I will choose someone to test it on.” Snape headed over to his desk and sat down.
Problem with me today, Potter? Snape’s voice said inside Harry’s head.
Don’t answer. I’m not going to answer. You can’t make me answer. Harry thought.
Is that a challenge, Potter?
No, Harry answered without thinking.
Snape smirked slightly. In that case, answer my question; have you got a problem with me today?
Harry’s hands shook with anger. You damn well know the answer.
Again, Snape smirked. Dear, dear. We are in a filthy mood, aren’t we? Anything to do with what was in the Daily Prophet this morning?
Shut up Snape, Harry thought viciously.
That’s Professor Snape to you, Potter. Or you can call me Sir.
Alright then, shut up Sir.
Detention. Tonight, Snape said coldly. Maybe it will teach you to not push your luck in future, Potter.
Fuming, Harry turned back to his potion.
“Uh, Harry?” Hermione said cautiously a few minutes later. “Ummmm, why are you stabbing your knife into the desk?”
“Shut up,” Harry snarled. “That git,” he indicated Snape, “has just given me detention.”
“What? How could he? He hasn’t said so?!”
“Never mind how, he just has,” Harry said through gritted teeth. Wisely, Hermione didn’t say anything and left Harry to brood in silence for the rest of the lesson.
When the end of the class finally came, Harry’s potion was a deep midnight blue in colour. His stomach contracted awkwardly as he looked over to Hermione’s whose was a light, crystalline pink. Snape’s eyes gleamed in triumph as he looked over at Harry’s concoction.
“Potter, what is that supposed to be?”
“The Integroare potion. Sir.” Harry added.
“Potter, read line seventeen again.”
Harry blushed as he read the line for the second time. He hadn’t stirred the potion eight times; the potion he’d made was completely useless.
Snape raised his wand and Vanished Harry’s efforts. “A zero, I think, Potter. We will be testing the remaining potions next lesson. I want a three thousand word essay on the correct brewing of healing potions in by tomorrow from each of you. Potter, I expect you here at seven thirty this evening for your detention. Class dismissed.”
“Harry?” Hermione called from behind Harry. “Harry! Wait up.”
“Yes?” Harry answered, swinging around to face her. Hermione recoiled at the look on Harry’s face.
“It’s just, well, I wanted to check you were ok, that’s all. Snape was pretty mean that lesson…”
“I had noticed,” Harry lashed out. “Do you think I’m an idiot as well?”
Hermione looked genuinely upset and Harry instantly regretted shouting at her.
“I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that “ it’s just what with Voldemort this morning, and then Snape…”
“I understand Harry,” she replied timidly. “Come on, let’s go and meet up with Ron for lunch.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Harry followed Hermione into the Great Hall. Even so, he couldn’t help but notice the uncomfortable knot in his stomach which told him the day was going to get lots worse before it got better.
“You’re late, Potter,” Snape spat as Harry walked through the dungeon door at half past seven that evening. “Five points from Gryffindor.”
“No way! That’s not fair! You can’t…”
“Never tell me what I can and can’t do, Potter. Your arrogant little self should learn that you are neither special nor important, and you never will be either. I want you to clean all the mite wings off the desk. Without magic,” he added viciously.
Fuming, Harry walked over to the desk and began to furiously scrape the insect wings off the desk. After around an hour, Snape walked over to inspect the tables Harry had done. He sneered malevolently as Harry shook with barely suppressed anger.
“This desk is pathetically cleaned, Potter. Do it again. I am appalled at the level of your cleaning skills. They are almost rivalling your atrocious potion making skills, which incidentally are the worst I have ever seen. Maybe this detention will serve to teach you to deflate your already over inflated ego for a while. You see, one day Potter, you will no longer be classed as a hero but…”
Oh for God’s sake, shut up Snape.
“…but an arrogant attention seeking little boy who’s had an easy life…”
“Easy?!” Harry snapped back, his temper beginning to boil. “Sure, I don’t seem to remember you seeing your godfather die in front of you, or a classmate being murdered, or your parents dying when you were a baby…”
Snape’s cold eyes burnt viciously. “No, Potter. But I have seen things your pampered and protected little mind couldn’t even imagine.”
“Like what?” Harry shot back instantly.
“You could never understand. It requires a brain to…”
“I have a brain!” interrupted Harry.
Snape looked indifferently at Harry.
“I see no evidence of the sort. As far as I am concerned, you are a foolish little attention-seeking baby who has an unfortunate habit of getting yourself upset over something that isn’t happening and then getting someone murdered in the process of ‘rescuing’ them. The mess you leave behind you has ruined a good many more lives than just yours.”
Angry tears began to burn Harry’s eyes as Snape’s words hit home.
“I know the truth at least; about you,” Harry answered, speaking randomly hoping Snape would back off. “Things you probably wouldn’t want anyone else to know.”
“Know what? What could you possibly know about me?” hissed Snape dangerously, drawing his wand.
“You were jealous at school and you’re still jealous now! You’ve always wanted to be like my Dad, and me, but you never could be. Instead, you were a slimy Slytherin who followed around after people bigger and stronger than you! Since no one wanted you, you went chasing after Voldemort inst…”
“Never say the Dark Lord’s name, you worthless scum.”
“VOLDEMORT!” Harry shouted. “And why are you so scared for me to say your best buddy’s name? You probably spent years in his company, killing and torturing people just for the hell of it. Why not at least use his proper name if you won’t use the made up nickname he gave himself? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you calling him Tom…”
“Keep your mouth shut, Potter. I will not be spoken to like that,” Snape breathed dangerously.
“See if I care,” Harry shot back, the anger he had been building up all day finally getting the better of him. “You’re nothing but a worthless Death Eater...”
“Crucio!” Snape hissed, pointing his wand directly at Harry who screamed and fell to the floor. “Never, ever say I am a Death Eater, or a servant of the Dark Lord, ever again. Now get out of my sight this instant.”
Shaking, Harry pulled himself upright and stared at Snape. After a few seconds, he turned around and stormed out of the dungeon, fury burning like a fire through him.
Snape had just used an Unforgivable on him, albeit for a split second, and Harry was outraged not least because the familiar aches of the Cruciatus curse once again plagued him. No, the real problem Harry had was a small part of him acknowledged Snape’s actions.
Deep down, Harry knew he had deserved it.
Ron and Hermione were sitting together up in the Gryffindor Common Room while Harry was in detention. Unusually, the Common Room was deserted, many of the Gryffindors either still in the library or wandering the corridors.
“…I’m sorry about earlier, Hermione; I was just upset over, you know, what was in the Prophet…”
“It’s all right,” Hermione answered quietly. “I know it’s hard of all of us, not least Harry. I just hope it doesn’t push as apart.”
“Yeah,” Ron muttered. “He’s changed since last year. I thought it was Sirius at first but, I don’t know, I think there’s something else as well. He seems to think that whatever You-Know-Who does is his fault.”
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I’d noticed that too. Maybe we should just outright ask him…?”
“No way,” Ron answered definitely. “You know what Harry’s like when he’s pushed. I guess we’ve just got to wait. Harry will tell us when he’s ready.”
Grudgingly, Hermione agreed. “Just don’t you disappear, like he has...”
Ron smiled slightly, his ears going red. “Me? Go anywhere? Not likely…”
Hermione grinned embarrassedly, a faint pink tinge gracing her cheeks. “Ron,” she started hesitantly. “I don’t really know how to say this but I think…”
Hermione was cut off as the Fat Lady’s portrait swung open and Harry, his face red with anger, stormed into the Common Room. He was so angry it appeared that he hadn’t even noticed Ron and Hermione curled up on the couch.
“Umm, Harry? How’d it go?” Ron said cautiously.
Harry stopped and stared back angrily at his best friend. “Bloody awful. Snape is the world’s biggest…” Harry made a violent gesture in the air, “…git.”
“Come on, Harry, I know he’s not very nice but it can’t have been that bad…”
“What would you know about it, Hermione? You weren’t even there! That was the worst detention I’ve ever had. I hate him! Next time I see him I’m going to kill him…”
Ron and Hermione exchanged alarmed glances. “You don’t mean that, Harry.”
“Why shouldn’t I? He’s taken everything else from me, why shouldn’t I take something from him?”
Ron had gone pale and Hermione appeared to be close to tears. “Harry, what…?”
“I’m going to bed,” Harry snapped, storming up to the dormitory.
Ron and Hermione sat there in silence before Ron cautiously followed Harry upstairs. Several minutes later, Hermione went up to her own dormitory in silence.
Without knowing it, Harry had just pushed himself away from the two people he needed more than anyone else.
Over the next few days, Harry barely spoke to anyone. When Harry had gone to the first Occlumency lesson after his detention with Snape, Dumbledore had gently enquired if anything was bothering him. Harry had just responded with a glare and “It’s none of your business.” When Dumbledore used Legilimency to try and find out what his pupil was so angry about, he quickly realised Harry had used the Clamcelo and hidden whatever was bothering him from the world.
Both Ron and Hermione had started to avoid Harry whenever they could since he was likely to explode if they so much as sat in the wrong chair. It didn’t take long for Hermione and Ron to be pushed closer together “ something which made Harry even angrier.
The most astounding change though was between Harry and Snape. If they had hated each other before they were almost at war with the other now. The tension in the Potions lessons between them had become almost unbearable and the news had spread around Hogwarts like wildfire. When challenged though, Harry refused to answer and Snape just threatened that he knew of a lot of poisons which he would be more than willing to use.
The Hogwarts rumour mill was working overtime although all the wild accusations never came close to the truth. After all, who would guess the Head of Slytherin House would curse a sixth year student with a spell that could result in a life sentence in Azkaban?
A week later, Ginny walked up to Harry as he sat brooding in the Common Room.
“Hey Harry.”
“What?” Harry snapped sulkily.
“Oh, for God’s sake, grow up Harry. It was only a detention.”
“Only a detention?!” Harry answered in disbelief. “Ginny, you only know half of it!”
“Then tell me,” the youngest Weasley said directly.
Harry quailed under Ginny’s intense yet curious gaze. At last, Harry could bottle his feelings up inside himself no longer.
“He used an Unforgivable,” Harry whispered in a barely audible voice.
“On you?”
Harry nodded, a tear falling down his face.
“Oh Harry. Why didn’t you say?”
Harry shrugged. “I deserved it.”
“No one deserves that Harry. The Cruciatus curse? Tell someone Harry. Tell McGonagall. Or even Dumbledore!” Ginny was nearly crying herself.
“No! No, I… I… I can’t. I’ll have to say what I said too.”
“Chill, Harry. Everything’ll be ok. You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. Shhhh, come on now, everything’s going to be fine…”
Carefully, she hugged Harry until he had no more tears to cry. “Thanks Ginny. Sorry, I was just- ”
Ginny shook he head. “It doesn’t matter Harry. Come on, let’s go and see Ron and Hermione.” Meekly nodding, Harry followed her.
Once Harry, with Ginny’s help, told Ron and Hermione what had happened during his detention with Snape he felt immeasurably more cheerful. Ron and Hermione, delighted at having the Harry they knew back, decided not to mention what had happened again and carried on looking forward to the Christmas break. It had been agreed that they would all go to Grimmauld Place for the holidays and Harry was quite looking forward to it.
On the first Saturday in December; Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron went to Hogsmeade to do their Christmas shopping. After around two hours of battling through crowded shops, they all met up in the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer and a chat. At last, with snow collecting several inches deep on the window sill, Harry began to truly look forward to Christmas.
Harry raised his bottle to the other three.
“Cheers guys, to a great Christmas!”
“Cheers!” the other three echoed.
Hermione’s voice wavered slightly and she raised her bottle for the second time.
“And cheers to a peaceful New Year.”
Harry glanced at her uneasily but none the less, he lifted his bottle and drank unashamedly to the hope that Hermione’s wish would come true.
It was the 13th December when Harry received the letter which shook his world and successfully ruined his excitement of the coming Christmas.
Harry was sitting quietly in his dormitory at 11.30pm when a coal black owl flew in through the window, a dead snake in its beak. Harry recoiled slightly as the bird flew down next to him and boldly held its leg out, a black envelope curled around it. Hesitantly, Harry pulled off the letter and the owl disappeared into the night, leaving the dead snake on Harry’s pillow.
Revolted at the reptile’s carcass, Harry opened the letter hoping that the contents couldn’t be as bad as what was now on his pillow.
The first thing that struck him was the handwriting was oddly spiked, and yet it seemed to be written in a firm, definite hand. Harry blanched as he noticed the image of the Dark Mark was carefully emblazoned in the corner. Trepidation coursing through his veins, Harry unwillingly read the message.
Dear Mr Potter,
I hope that you will enjoy my own seasonal celebrations over the next twelve days. I trust you know the worthless Muggles like to sing carols at this time of year? Maybe your equally worthless parents sing them to you during the Christmas breaks. Oh, I had almost forgotten. You don’t live with them, do you; because I killed them fifteen years, one month, thirteen days and around 23 and a half hours ago. You grew up with those Muggle vermin for ten years instead; even so, you must know what carols are.
Pity, I appear to be growing sentimental writing this. At some point in you worthless life you must have heard the racket known as ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. It gives me great pleasure to inform you of my version.
Enjoy,
L.V.
Horrified, Harry unfolded the second piece of parchment. The red writing was clearly not written in ink and the lyrics had been grotesquely altered.
On the first day of Christmas, my servants brought to me,
The carcass of a Muggle.
On the second day of Christmas, my servants brought to me,
Two tortured men
And the carcass of a Muggle.
Harry read on, repulsed, as Voldemort continued writing the lyrics. At the bottom, Harry had tears streaming down his face as he read the final verse.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my servants gave to me,
Twelve murdered wizards,
Eleven unnamed bodies,
Ten worthless Muggles,
Nine women mourning,
Eight children screaming,
Seven frightened parents,
Six severed limbs,
Five burnt homes.
Four crying girls,
Three cursed kids,
Two tortured men,
And the carcass of a Muggle.
Harry grabbed the letter and bolted downstairs into the common room.
“Harry! What…?!” Hermione’s startled voice cutting through the common room as Harry burst into the room with tears streaming down his face.
Harry was past caring; he threw himself through the portrait hall, heading for the fifth floor with his mind working in overdrive. All of a sudden, Harry felt someone grab his shoulders. A new terror overtook everything as Harry, unable to keep control of himself any longer, threw up all over the floor. Whoever was holding his shoulders didn’t let go. Harry drew his wand.
“Potter,” a cold voice sneered, forcing Harry to turn around. “What can possibly be so significant that you feel the need to come screaming through the school at this hour? Fifty points from Gry-”
Snape stopped as Harry’s eyes met his own. Instantly, Snape’s eyes darted to the letter and then back to Harry’s face. His own face was void of all emotion although his coal dark eyes narrowed at the sight of the blackened envelope. Everything that had happened between them since the detention was overruled by the arrival of the letter.
“Get to Dumbledore’s office. Now!” he ordered, dragging Harry towards the stone gargoyle. “And don’t say anything until you are there.”
Harry, tears still streaming down his ashen face, wordlessly followed Snape up the moving staircase.
Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk studying a lunar chart when Snape kicked open the door, dragging Harry with him. Harry couldn’t bring himself to speak so Snape wrenched the letter out of Harry’s grasp and threw it to Dumbledore.
“Potter’s over-reacting again,” Snape said icily. “What ever is in that letter is a fake.”
Dumbledore, after a quick glance at Harry, unfolded the parchment and read its contents swiftly. As if dreading the outcome, he pulled out his wand and muttered “Aldulterinus!” The parchment turned black and the red ink turned to a shimmering, burning green.
The letter was genuine.
Dumbledore let the parchment fall from his limp hand and Snape reached out and read it emotionlessly. Harry let out another anguished cry as his legs gave way beneath him and he fell to the floor.
It was over three hours before Harry finally allowed himself do drift into an exhausted sleep. In that time, neither Snape nor Dumbledore had moved from their position of standing guard over Harry, their wands held rigidly in their hands.
A/N : So then guys, what do you think? I hope you’re all enjoying reading this as much as I’m enjoying writing it! As always, you opinions are greatly appreciated and feel free to ask me any questions you may have. Special thanks to everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters! ~ Stormy x