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The Unexpected Side Effect of Draught No. 9	By : lovetoseverus Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 25605 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 11: Surface Tension

Already a week had passed and it was late on Sunday morning. Harry was still in bed, having opted to sleep in much later than normal – if one can consider fitful tossing and turning as sleep, that is. In truth, he had been awake for hours but could not compel his limbs to move.

As he lie there in his bedroom in Grimmauld Place, he looked up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes, thinking. His stomach was aflutter with nervousness. The foreboding sense that something was going to change had plagued him all week, but now it felt nearly suffocating.

Glancing over at the clock, he could almost feel the seconds ticking away in tune with his heartbeat, the tiny red hand mocking him as it circled the white face. Harry turned his head away and scoffed. He knew he was being ridiculous, yet felt powerless to stop it. Although he had had many dangerous experiences in his life so far – most of them matters of grave peril, in fact – something about this particular sense felt different. Not worse, just… foreign.

Over the last few days, Harry had begun to wonder if it was being caused by Evochi. He had seriously considered asking Severus about it, but managed to talk himself out of doing so every time. He told himself he was just being paranoid. Severus knew what he was doing and if he had recommended one dose per week, then who was Harry to question it?

Reluctantly, he swung his legs out of bed and pressed his feet to the cold floor, the weight of his mind pounding against his forehead as he stood up. Slowly, he walked down the hall to the bathroom, his feet dragging as he went. Once again his life felt as though it had a momentum of its own; his mind, oddly disconnected, as though parts of it no longer belonged to him. It was unsettling to say the least, and was doing nothing to calm his nerves.

If he thought it an option, he would have turned promptly around and gone back to bed, pulling the covers over his head and willing the world away. But even if he was capable of that (which he wasn’t) there was still a part of him that wanted an answer to what was going on, and knew there was only one way to get it. Besides, Severus had owled a few days earlier to confirm their time for today (it had changed slightly due to a staff meeting) and he knew Severus would be expecting him.

With a heavy, resigned sigh, Harry reached into the shower and turned it on. When finally he felt the hot water splashing over his face, he closed his eyes, hoping with everything he had that he was doing the right thing.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

It was the middle of their start-of-term staff meeting and already Severus’ thoughts were drifting. He was staring vacantly ahead, watching the events unfold before him but not truly seeing any of it. At least until Professor Sinistra began discussing the particulars of the Astronomy Tower and what had changed now that the reparations to the castle were complete.

The Astronomy Tower.

At those words, Severus’ eyes closed tightly, a reflex born from his pain-memory. If he never again had to set foot on that tower, it would be too soon. Even worse was the fact that, although he didn’t know it at the time, Harry had witnessed the whole event. To this day, they had only spoken of it once, and very briefly, each seeming to want to avoid the topic as much as the other. But Severus knew – or felt he knew, anyway – that Harry was not holding it against him. That arrangement had been one of the things Albus instructed him to provide Harry in his final memories, though Severus did not understand all the implications of it at the time.

The visual of Albus being launched off the tower by the curse Severus uttered – from his wand, always his wand – assaulted his mind. It was permanently etched there, in fact. He inwardly winced. It was times like this when Severus wished he had died from Nagini’s bite. It would have saved him from repeatedly reliving the moment, and every other painful one that preceded it; things he felt he’d been too helpless or cowardly to prevent.

Only one thing seemed to keep him going now, he realized: Harry. And it wasn’t just their Evochi sessions.

Really, what else was there for him? Or who? He had lost everyone else of import: his mother, the few friends he had gained at Hogwarts (namely Regulus, Remus and Lily), and Albus. But especially Lily and Albus. Perhaps it was because of them, and the promise he had made to both, that drove him to protect Harry’s life even now; that made him want to hang onto Harry for as long as he could. For without him, Severus would truly be alone.

Forcing the murk of his mind into the background, Severus returned his attention to the meeting. Headmistress McGonagall had just taken Professor Sinistra’s place at the front of the chamber room. He couldn’t imagine it was anything he needed to hear, and so let his thoughts drift once again, this time to his memories of last Sunday. He found he was looking forward to Sundays now in a way he never had before (it certainly was not for the staff meetings) and immediately thought of last week’s Evochi session. One aspect in particular slid right to the front of his mind.

It was a decision he had spent several minutes debating over with himself: should he or shouldn’t he? Harry had to be moved, that much was obvious – Severus couldn’t leave him sprawled on top of a hard, wooden table. Levitation was the most sensible answer, but somehow whenever he went to cast the charm, the urge to hold Harry overcame him. He knew it was unfair to take advantage of the situation, particularly since Harry could not protest, but Harry had a way of rendering all of Severus’ practiced self-control useless. In the end, Severus chose to carry him, even though he knew it might mean answering for it later. Selfish or not, he just wanted to, and ultimately that was reason enough for him.

Tucking one arm underneath Harry’s neck and the other under his knees, Severus pulled Harry towards him and then lifted him off the table. Harry’s weight felt comfortable in his arms and Severus found he had no trouble supporting him. He could feel the warmth of Harry’s body next to his chest and the toned muscles of Harry’s legs against his hand. As he walked slowly into the antechamber, Severus inhaled, gathering Harry’s scent into his nose: it was pleasant and fresh-smelling but had no discernible aroma that could be associated with a specific bath product or cologne. It was just Harry, and Severus filled his lungs with it.

When he reached the sofa, he gently – if not reluctantly – laid Harry down upon it and did his best to arrange Harry’s limbs into what he hoped was a suitable sleeping position. He then stood back and admired the young man for a minute, knowing that Harry was out cold and oblivious to anything that had just transpired. Severus remembered quite well the disorientation that followed an Evochi session and felt his antechamber would be the best place for Harry to awaken.

Just before he stepped away, Severus conjured a blanket to cover Harry and then reached down to remove his glasses, setting them aside on the coffee table.

The sudden rustling of parchment brought Severus’ mind back to the meeting and he glanced over at the clock. Fifteen minutes remained and then he would be free to go and prepare for Harry’s third session. Minerva was addressing the staff while passing out something for review. Severus sighed and shifted in his chair, barely registering the fact that someone had just thrust a bundle of documents into his hand. He glared briefly at the offending colleague, and then looked down at the paperwork with unseeing eyes as images of Harry continued to flash through his mind.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

Harry sat at the large, worn table in his kitchen, his elbows propped on the wooden surface, his chin resting in his palms. Kreacher was busy preparing food while he merely sat with his thoughts. He knew Kreacher preferred it that way – Harry was fairly clumsy in the kitchen and usually just got in the way. Besides, Harry was his rightful master now and Kreacher enjoyed being of service, particularly in the absence of any remaining lineage in what he still referred to as the Noble House of Black. Harry didn’t care what the elf called his house – he was just grateful for the company, at least as much as Kreacher could be, anyway.

As Kreacher turned and set a plate of food down in front of Harry, he pointed a long, wrinkled finger towards an envelope at the other end of the table. Puzzled, Harry reached over and grabbed it, wondering how he could have missed that. It must have arrived while he was in the shower, for Kreacher did not alert him earlier. The envelope was white and crisply folded, secured with a daub of brown wax that bore an ornate “W” insignia. The writing was instantly familiar, though – Hermione’s – and he opened it eagerly, glad for the distraction.

Ron and Hermione didn’t visit much, for they both found Grimmauld Place rather bleak and depressing. Instead, Harry generally visited their flat, now that they were living together, or met them somewhere in Hogsmeade. It had been several weeks since they’d hung out together, but normally they would just Floo-call. He couldn’t remember the last time he had received a letter from them. Therefore, it was with a small amount of trepidation that he unfolded the parchment and began to read.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

Severus ducked down a back passage towards the dungeons to avoid any more chance meetings, for he had already been stopped twice by colleagues inquiring about something he considered utterly inconsequential. He was starting to resent the way other staff members, post-battle, seemed to be treading delicately with him – though whether it was because they were concerned for him or because they were fearful of him, he did not know.

Although Severus had been exonerated on all charges put against him and walked away with a clear name, there were still those within the Wizarding community who doubted the validity of it and were quite content to keep stirring the pot conspiratorially.

In fact, Minerva had just pulled him aside after the staff meeting to inform him of the complaints she had been receiving from a particularly vocal group of parents. She had leaned in close, so as to not be overheard, and rested her hand gently on his forearm.

“Severus, I am telling you this only so you may be aware of the situation.” She had paused then, seeming to size up his reaction. When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “I trust this means you won’t be giving any of your students a difficult time.” There was a stern quality to her tone.

This was hardly the first time Hogwarts had received a complaint about Severus, and they both knew it. Yet, his reputation for harassing students seemed to precede him, even now. Nonplussed, Severus simply arched an eyebrow by way of a response before turning on his heel to leave. Little did Minerva know, Severus had no intention of making trouble for any of his students this term. He’d rather lost his heart for it, actually – and for teaching, too, though he wondered if he’d ever had that to begin with.

Severus arrived at the door to his private quarters uninterrupted and entered quickly to ensure it stayed that way. Once inside, he leaned back against the door and sighed, hearing that small comfort of the latch clicking soundly into place. He would never give anyone, let alone some hypocritical parent, the satisfaction of running him off from a place he had called home for nearly two decades, even if he did have something to hide. And for once, he didn’t. Even the irony of that was ironic. No, if he was going to leave his teaching post, it would be his decision, and his alone.

For now, though, none of that mattered. He glanced over at the mantle clock – Harry was scheduled to arrive in less than thirty minutes. He strode off in the direction of his bedroom to change out of his teaching robes, and then stepped into his private lab to prepare for the afternoon, pushing everything except Harry and Evochi from his mind.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

“Married!”

Harry was shouting, the effect of which was much louder than he’d intended due to the echo in the room, and the hand that clutched Hermione’s letter flailed about wildly. “Just when the hell were they planning on telling me about this? I suppose they didn’t think it’d be important to tell me they were getting married before I received the announcement?”

Kreacher cowered slightly by the sink, watching Harry as though he didn’t understand a word of English, his crinkled, orb-like eyes wider than normal. It was doubtful he even knew what a wedding was, nor cared, but seemed to have learned that when Harry got upset it was best to just stay out of the way. What Harry didn’t know (and what Kreacher had neglected to mention, then or otherwise) was that both Ron and Hermione had been leaving him Floo messages for days…

As Harry stalked back and forth in the kitchen, errant magic emanated off of him, making the lights in the room flicker and crackle. If there had been someone else aside from Kreacher present, he might have continued his indignant rant, but as it was, his tirade was completely lost on an elf.

Glancing at the clock, he realized with a start that it was time to leave. He folded and pocketed the announcement, resolving to track down Hermione as soon as he could, and looked longingly at his untouched food as he hurried out of the kitchen.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

After Apparating to Hogwarts, Harry entered the main gate and started to make his way up the grassy lawns, the blades beneath his shoes still slick with dew. Well into September now, the weather had started to grow colder and Harry pulled his arms around himself as he walked.

Just before he pushed open one of the large, entrance doors, he took a deep breath and attempted to clear his mind. He was unsuccessful. Sighing, he pushed open the door anyway, ready for the onslaught of students and questions he assumed would be awaiting him on the other side. But it never came. The foyer, for all its grandeur and scale, was eerily quiet. He poked his head into the Great Hall and saw that only a few students were present, talking amongst themselves in a small cluster. The Head Table was empty as well, save for one professor he did not recognize. A few of the castle’s ghosts floated overhead, swooping lazily through coats of armor and House flags that hung from the stone walls.

As Harry turned to leave, he caught sight of Headmistress McGonagall talking to a student. But not just any student – a familiar one with bushy, brown hair.

“Hermione?” he called incredulously, both flummoxed by and grateful for his timing.

At her name – and the familiar voice – Hermione turned quickly and nearly ran in Harry’s direction after excusing herself from the Headmistress.

“Harry!” she yelled happily, launching herself into his arms. After a hug, she stood back to look at him properly. “It seems like forever since I’ve seen you!” She smiled. “What are you doing here?”

Harry blinked for a minute, stunned into silence. “I was about to ask you that,” was all he managed.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Did I not tell you I am a student here again? I wanted to finish out my education at Hogwarts, you know, do it properly.”

“That’s not all you forgot to tell me,” he said sourly, pulling the folded announcement from his pocket and holding it up for her to see.

“You got it! Thank goodness! Isn’t it wonderful?” She lingered on the syllables of that last word, something of a sing-song sound to her voice. “Ron and I have been trying to reach you for days, we came back a bit early from Australia. When I was done here today, I was going to go visit you and make sure you were okay.” She paused then, eyeing him. “Are you okay?”

Harry’s emotions roiled as he considered her question. She and Ron had gone off to Australia for three weeks to retrieve her parents and bring them back to England, and also to get a nice vacation away from everything. It was right after they left that Harry had been considering his own explorative travels, thinking he’d have a head start before they’d be able to object, but then Severus had countered with the offer of Evochi. So much had happened in a few short weeks, he realized. He wanted to ask about Hermione’s parents and get caught up with his friends, but something kept bringing him back to the parchment in his hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to get engaged?” He tried to keep his voice even but the indignant tone returned anyway.

Hermione frowned a bit, seeming to understand now. “I didn’t know either, Harry, Ron surprised me just before we left Australia. It was so romantic, though…” A wistful expression softened her features. When she saw that Harry didn’t seem to be sharing her joy, she steeled her face again. “I tried to tell you, Harry – we both did – but you weren’t responding to our Floo calls. I even tried to send a letter, but I fear we may have beat that owl home…”

“I didn’t get any messages from either you or Ron,” Harry accused.

“We left them with Kreacher. I guess you weren’t home when we tried to call. Did he not give them to you? And what have you been doing that you’re never at home?”

Harry wondered if he should be mad at Hermione for trying to blame Kreacher, or mad at Kreacher for not giving him his messages, but in the end it probably didn’t matter. He sighed and pushed his fingertips in behind his glasses, rubbing his eyes.

“Harry, I’m so sorry…” she said softly. “Really, I had no idea that the announcement would be the first you’d hear of it. Or at least I hoped it wouldn’t be. But Mrs. Weasley was so excited, she basically marched us into the house and made us sit at the table, hand-addressing envelopes for what seemed like hours. She insisted that it not be done by magic.” Hermione smoothed a hand along Harry’s arm in a manner that further conveyed her apology.

Deflating, Harry lowered the hand holding her announcement, unable to stave off the small grin that betrayed his changing mood. He knew how Molly could be and was picturing the entire scene in his head. He thought he might actually have laughed if it weren’t for the otherwise heavy thoughts weighing down his mind.

After a moment, he gestured to the castle at large and said, “Where is everyone, by the way?”

“Oh, the train doesn’t come in until Tuesday, and then classes start on Wednesday. The Headmistress appointed me Head Girl this year, so I was allowed to come a few days early and get settled.”

Harry nodded distractedly, then remembered why he was there.

“Shit, I have to go, I’m late! I’ll talk to you later!” he said as he ran off down the stairs, in the direction of the dungeons. As Hermione watched him go, a confused look on her face, he thought he could almost hear the questions she left lingering unspoken on the air.

Where are you going?

What are you late for?

Why are you heading to the dungeons?
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The Unexpected Side Effect of Draught No. 9