16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

It was amazing how distracting such a revelation could be, Severus decided as he tried to pay attention to his class. He's straight; there's no point dwelling on someone you can't have, he told himself. He was married to Greengrass, for pity's sake! Even so his thoughts kept coming back to the laughing man with a single-mindedness that typically served him well but currently made him want to curse.

Scowling, he yanked Longbottom's arm away from the cauldron before he could add the sweetroot. "Your incompetence reaches new heights every time you step into this classroom, Longbottom," he sneered. "Or are you actually attempting to kill us all? Twenty points from Gryffindor," he hissed. "Add the hornbeam quickly, lest I give you a zero for yet another potion."

Sweeping on, he paused by Potter's table to inspect the potions of the Golden Trio. Granger's was near-perfect, of course; Potter's was acceptable, and Weasley seemed to be managing better than Longbottom, at least. "You will stay after class, Potter," he ordered spontaneously. "Although it appears that your lessons in remedial potions," he drawled, "are doing you some good, you still have a long way to go. Weasley, you will stay behind as well." Not waiting to see their reactions, he moved on to the next table.

OoOoO

"You wanted to speak with us, sir?" Severus looked up to see Potter and Weasley standing in front of his desk – Granger was, as expected, still slowly putting away her things.

"Granger, shut the door and join us," the Professor instructed, and waited until all three of them were in front of his desk before speaking. "You have learned the 'Abscondite' spell?" he checked, naming the spell the time traveler had taught the Order. At their nods he continued, "You will hide this conversation. Earlier this morning Mister Potter-Black and Professor Dumbledore went to destroy an artifact important to the Dark Lord; during this mission the Headmaster was struck by a curse that ensures a very painful death." None of the students seemed at all surprised, though Potter seemed to be wrestling with the fealty potion – he had been drugged most strongly, after all. "I managed to slow the exposure to the curse, and the Headmaster should enjoy another month of life before the curse kills him. I will arrange for a meeting within the month so that we may hear the Headmaster's instructions and plans." In other words, let's question him under Veritaserum, all three students understood, and satisfied smiles curved their lips.

"That is all."

"Thank you, Professor," Granger said, pulling out her wand. The two boys mimicked her movement, and soon all three had apparently successfully cast the 'Abscondite' spell.

"You wanted to speak with us, sir?" Potter asked, acting as though the conversation had never happened, and Severus nodded approvingly.

"I believe I will include Weasley in your remedial potions lessons, Potter," he sneered, "since his incompetence is even greater than yours. Granger, I do not remember asking you to stay behind," he shot her a sharp look.

"Ah – sorry, Professor," the girl stuttered, backing away and stuffing the last of her things into her bag. Watching her with sharp eyes, Severus informed the boys, "You will come to my office at the regular times. Dismissed."

"Sir-" Potter had the temerity to begin, and Severus's eyes snapped to him. The foolish Gryffindor ploughed on, however. "Shouldn't Neville join us too? I mean, he's even worse than Ron..."

"Longbottom is a hopeless case, Potter," Severus narrowed his eyes, "as I am sure you know. Do not question me again."

"Yes, sir," Potter replied stiffly.

"Leave." All three students scrambled to exit his classroom, and Severus waited until they had left before dropping his head into his hands. He had a headache.

OoOoO

By silent agreement the three friends spent the next lesson – History of Magic – reading the books Professor Snape had lent Harry. Ron was perfectly aware of the fact that Professor Snape would have absolutely no patience with him, and as the next lesson was the following evening he would do his very best to be prepared. The other students would be shocked to see Ron Weasley studiously reading a book that evening in the common room, but they'd probably assume that Hermione bullied him into it, so it was all good.

Harry, meanwhile, was struggling with conflicting emotions. One part of him was happy to hear of the Headmaster's injury, but another part of him screamed out that Professor Dumbledore didn't deserve to die; that he was a great man and that they needed him. Harry was sure that that voice came from the fealty potion he was apparently drugged with, but that made it no easier to combat. Eventually he gave up and concentrated fully on his book, resolving to ask Professor Snape for a potion or spell to get rid of the fealty potion.

Hermione was for once completely disregarding the ghost's lecture, focusing instead on the text on how to center yourself and calm your mind. She understood why Professor Snape couldn't teach her as well, and she knew that the boys would be of little help, so the books would have to do. Already she had a foot of notes; she had decided that the best way to learn this would be to treat it as a special assignment for a very strict teacher. Which it is, really, she smiled, jotting down another note.

OoOoO

Harry, meanwhile, was startled out of his thoughts by an owl tapping at the window. Letting the animal in, he relieved it of its burden, and noted with a grin that it was a letter from Gringotts. "Would you like some water?" he offered the animal, but it simply flew away. "Guess not, then."

Cracking the seal, Harry opened the scroll and read it quickly. Tucking it into his trouser pants, he downed the vial of Strengthening potion and slipped the vial of Blood-replenishing potion in beside the scroll. It was time to go to Gringotts.

OoOoO

Three hours later Harry reappeared in his living room and promptly collapsed to the ground, not even registering Dobby's words until a man's voice asked, "Potter, what the devil happened to you?", prompting a spike of pain to pierce Harry's skull.

"Motherfucking headache of all headaches," Harry slurred, feeling like his skull was shrinking, his brain expanding, and a thousand nails being rammed into his head. He was vaguely aware of strong hands rolling him over and wiping the blood from his forehead, hissing at the torn open scar. "You took the Blood-replenishing potion?" Harry wasn't sure whether he managed to reply or not, but then the voice said, "Drink this," and a vial was pressed to his lips. Doing his best to follow the order even as his head was splitting in two, Harry swallowed the potion – and slowly his headache seemed to dissipate, until it only felt like one nail was being nailed into his head, right where his lightning bolt scar was.

"Better?" the man asked, and Harry finally recognized Severus's voice.

"Only one nail now," he answered weakly – then everything went dark.