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Harry Potter and the Expert Potions Master	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 21308 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I make no money from this story.

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(HARRY POTTER AND THE EXPERT POTIONS MASTER)

Chapter 1 - Breakfast at the Burrow

Harry lay on his bed enjoying the peace and quiet before he joined the Weasleys for breakfast. On nearly all of his previous visits to the Burrow, he had shared Ron's room. Mrs Weasley, in a fit of understanding or some other deep emotion, had insisted this time that he used Bill's old room. He was glad, very glad, for the privacy.

The room still bore a few traces of Bill's personality – a few old scraps of parchment with drawings of piles of gold on them, a very battered trunk squashed into a corner, with ripped robes draped over it, and finally a wizarding photograph of his family in Egypt. Harry stared at the picture for a few moments, wondering at the way the world had changed since that photograph had been taken. So many changes. So many surprises.

He slid his arms behind his head and remembered again that moment when after that terrible final battle, he had awoken in the Shrieking Shack, and heard a desperate rattling breath. It had terrified him and he had struggled to pull his wand free from his jacket before he had realised that Voldemort was gone, truly, irrevocably gone, so this could not be him.

His delight when he had seen it was Snape still made a grin break out on his face even now, seven months later. Snape was alive. Harry had one less dead person to carry with him. Plus, he had someone to focus on, someone he could help.

Or would have had, had Snape not glowered at him and croaked, voice horribly weak, “Potter? What, in Merlin's name, did you do, you idiotic boy?!”

Harry had only been able to gape as Snape had tugged his hand free and attempted to stand up. All he had managed had been an awkward flopping roll that would have been funny if the circumstances had been less serious.

“Sir, you nearly died. Why don't you give yourself a few minutes before you start criticising me?” Harry had said, with no idea of where his sudden bravery had come from. He would have thought that all things Gryffindor had been drained out of him, but no, here he was, taunting a man who had just returned from the dead and who had never been renowned for his sweet and understanding disposition even when not suffering from near catastrophic blood loss.

Snape had glared, as though he had longed to take points from Harry, or curse him, but the weakness in his legs as he wobbled to a kneeling position had taken all his attention and energy. Gasping for breath he had half crawled, half dragged himself to the mouldy wall and slumped there, eyes fluttering closed, chest still heaving with exertion.

Harry smiled to himself as he lay on his bed; even when brought back from the dead, Snape didn't change. Harry remembered how long it had taken him to convince the older man that all was well and that Snape really didn't need to be rushing off anywhere as there had really been nowhere to rush off to, and no-one to rush off for.

Harry's door swung open. Ginny stood there, jeans sliding off her slim hips, a short top that hugged her curves showing off intriguing hints of creamy skin as she shifted.

“Are you ever getting up?” she asked and crossed to the bed. She straddled him and leaned over for a kiss. After long moments she pulled back and said mischievously, “I see you are getting up!”

Harry flushed, embarrassed that she could feel his hardness and pushed her away from him so he could get out of bed and dress. Ginny moved to let him up but once he was standing she moved in for another kiss. One arm went around his shoulder, the other snaked down to between his legs.

“Ginny!” he gasped, shocked.

“Oh, come on, Harry!” Ginny responded, quietly, but clearly determined, “We're back together. Ron and Hermione are together. Mum isn't stupid enough to think they sneak off to hold hands.”

“Urgh!” Harry groaned, the sudden thought of his friends having sex clearly and uncomfortably before his eyes.

“I agree,” Ginny smiled, “but we're together too. I'm of age now. There's nothing to stop us.”

Harry busied himself with choosing items from his trunk. How could he explain to Ginny that just because they could have sex didn't mean they had to. Harry was eighteen now, Ginny, as she had said, seventeen, both of age, but Harry just didn't feel it would be right to sleep with Ginny, and certainly not in the Weasleys' house with potentially anyone wandering past and hearing them!

“Ginny,” he began, unsure how to even begin to have this conversation, but luckily the clattering of George down the stairs disturbed them.

Every time Harry heard that slow noise, a noise that was half as quiet as it should have been, he felt his heart constrict. Every time it was like learning all over again of Fred's death, of seeing that damaged body. Harry didn't know how George could bear it. From the slow movement Harry could hear, George couldn't bear it.

Ginny listened too. Her face had gone pale and taut as the misery of losing her brother hit her again.

On the staircase, George gave a low, desperate sob and turned, going back to the room he had shared with his twin.

Ginny said quietly, desolation in her voice, “I wish he'd come downstairs occasionally. Maybe then he'd start to feel better.”

Harry, understanding far more than Ginny when it came to losing someone you loved, answered, “Maybe he doesn't want to feel better yet. Maybe he wants to be with Fred. Until he wants our company there's nothing much we can do for him.”

“Mum can get him to talk sometimes. And Dad. But Percy tried yesterday, whilst you were at Hogwarts, and George...” she trailed off, gulping, “It was terrifying, Harry. I really thought George meant to kill Percy. He was so angry. He yelled things, awful, horrible things at Percy. And Percy just stood there, sobbing, and let George hurl abuse at him.”

Harry nodded, fearing he already knew the kinds of things George had said to Percy. It had been Percy there with Fred when Fred had died, Percy who had survived, not Fred. Percy, the least loved brother of George's who had made it, and Fred, the most loved brother of George's who hadn't. Yes, Harry could imagine all too well what George had hurled at his sibling.

Ginny collapsed onto the bed, her face hidden. Harry stared at her in shock.

“Merlin, Harry, what's wrong with me? I'm trying to push you into having sex and there's poor George missing Fred. And I miss Fred too. I do, really. So why am I behaving like this? We've got years and years together. Forever. The rest of our lives!”

“Ginny!” Harry said, dropping down beside her and pulling her into his arms, “You want to feel alive and be close to someone. Live, and enjoy life. More so than ever before because now you're aware that it can just be taken. That our lives are so fragile. I get that, I do. I'm just...” he paused, feeling so unsure of himself, “I'm not ready. So much has happened. And I don't just mean the battle. You know I go to Hogwarts to help repair things, help McGonagall with the relatives of the dead and get Hogwarts ready to re-open as soon as it can. And I'm working with Kingsley in the Auror Department too now, trying to sort that out.” He sighed, wishing he could get back into bed and pull the covers over his head to escape from the world. It was all just too much, especially with the approaching trials of those Death Eaters they'd been able to find, and Umbridge's trial scheduled for February. It was all just too much.

The Wizarding World was trying desperately to re-build itself. Kingsley was working all the hours available to make changes that would improve things, but so much needed doing. Just the sheer scale of the task scared him. It was much easier to be The Chosen One than to be The One Chosen To Clear It All Up.

Ginny stayed still and quiet in his arms, enjoying the feel of him holding her.

“Harry,” she said softly, “there is a lot on your shoulders right now. You're trying to do everything alone, and you don't have to. I'm here. I'll help. I want to help.”

Harry shook his head. “No, Ginny, not whilst there are still Death Eaters out there to hunt down. They might have lost, but some of them have taken to kidnapping and killing just because they can. Imagine how I'd feel if one of them took you! Imagine your Mum and Dad, and all your brothers.” He paused. “No, you have to stay here for now. At least until the worst of them are in Azkaban.”

Shifting, Ginny hugged Harry back, her lips brushing his neck. “Even if I stay here, I can still help,” she said. One hand stroked along his thigh teasingly.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He was a little annoyed that Ginny was trying to bring everything back to sex. What was worse was that he did understand how she felt, that she wanted that closeness with someone, wanted to take advantage of every moment, but right now, he just couldn't.

Abruptly he stood and left the room, throwing “Bathroom” over his shoulder as he escaped. Thankfully she didn't follow him. He supposed they should all be glad that Ginny had never been taught to apparate. The previous year at Hogwarts, no-one had appeared from the Ministry to teach them, no-one had been given the option of taking the test, not that Ginny would have been old enough then. Now she was, but couldn't apparate. At least he and the rest of the Weasleys didn't have to worry about their daughter/sister taking off for parts unknown after Harry.

After checking his room carefully and finding it empty of Ginny, he dressed and made his way downstairs. As usual, the house was crammed with people. Arthur Weasley was sighing as he glanced at the clock. He kissed his wife on the cheek and apparated away. Ron and Hermione sat next to one another, almost in one another's laps, and ate. Every so often their eyes would meet and a private smile would light up both of their faces. Molly bustled about, filling people with second and third helpings of delicious food. Ginny had slid into her seat and was attacking a pile of toast. Charlie had moved back home for a few weeks to calm his mother down, and was quietly talking to Percy as they both eagerly ate scrambled eggs and fat sausages.

“Harry!” Molly cried, smiling a welcome and opening her arms as if to hug him. She stopped herself from completing the gesture and glanced at her daughter. Ginny smiled at her mother and shifted her chair so that Harry had a space at the crowded table.

Even with only ten days to go before Christmas, there was no sign of decorations going up, and no-one really seemed all that interested in the holiday. Of course, for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who weren't really working, it wasn't a 'holiday'. And if they felt as Harry did, it was a vague feeling that celebrating would be slightly obscene given everything that had happened. Not that that had prevented Harry from buying some presents for his friends and extended family.

A plate was plonked down in front of him shaking him out of his thoughts, and Molly Weasley began doling it with all of Harry's favourite breakfast foods: thick, hot sausages, crispy bacon, buttered toast, scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes, even a slice of black pudding got slipped onto his plate.

“Thanks, Mrs Weasley.”

Molly put her hands on her hips and gave him a mock glare. “I thought we'd agreed on Molly, Harry. After all, you're practically part of the family now!” she glanced again at Ginny, who blushed prettily.

“I know. It's just...I've called you Mrs Weasley for such a long time,” Harry explained, “I've got to get used to 'Molly'.”

“Mrs - Molly,” Hermione said, sounding as unused to the name as Harry was, “we both need to adapt. Give Harry time.”

“I know, dear, I know.” Mrs Weasley piled more food on Harry's plate so it looked as though he hadn't even begun eating, despite the steady rate he had been attacking his breakfast.

Finally sitting down, after first displacing Crookshanks who had been curled up on the only available chair, Mrs Weasley asked, “So, what is everyone doing today?”

Hermione answered first. “I want to go and stay with my parents for a few days again. I know I spent two months with them after the Battle, but I want to see them again. And, and...” she took a deep breath, “and introduce them to Ron.” Hermione slanted a sideways look at Ron's mother, wondering what the older woman's reaction would be.

“That sounds lovely, dear.” Molly said, her smile reassuring Hermione.

“I'm still trying to track down that dragon you three flew out of Gringotts,” Charlie said, eyeing the trio. “We keep hearing reports that it's attacked Muggle areas, but when we get there it's gone. I'm sick of altering memories and rebuilding houses I can tell you!”

Percy smiled and pushed his glasses more firmly onto his nose. “Mr Shacklebolt has asked me to help him untangle some of the mess Dolores Umbridge left, so I'll be heading to the Ministry in a few minutes.”

“I'm going to Hogwarts,” Harry announced, “we've nearly got the school back and are starting to re-cast the Protective Charms hopefully. I can't really help with that, but I can check nothing has been missed out in the repairs.”

Molly nodded.

“I'll be sitting here, doing nothing.” Ginny declared crossly, her arms folded and a very Mrs Weasley expression on her face.

“Hardly nothing, darling,” her mother said, “there is still plenty of everyday work to do, even while everyone else is away from the house.”

Ginny glared at her mother, her good mood having completely evaporated. “Lucky me.”

Trying to ignore the sour mood that filled the room, Harry quickly finished breakfast then hurried quickly away to his bedroom to fetch the invisibility cloak. His wand, as all their wands were, was on him, ready for use at a moment's notice. He imagined it would take a very long time before the Wizarding World stopped expecting any odd noise to mean a problem.

On his way back, he stopped outside Percy's room. There were rustlings within. Knocking, Harry waited for the other man's “Come in,” before crossing the threshold.

“Harry,” Percy's voice had long ago lost its pomposity and now sounded simply defeated. It was how Harry had felt immediately after the Battle, and there were still long hours when he was gripped by the same despair even now. Possibly everyone who had fought in that battle would have moments for the rest of lives wondering if the sacrifices had been worth it all.

“Percy. Could you let Kingsley know that I'll be there tomorrow? I promised Mcgonagall I'd help her today.”

“Of course.”

Harry looked, really looked, at Percy. “Perce, are you all right?” He stopped himself. “Sorry, that's a stupid question. Of course you're not. What I meant was, was there anything I could help you with, or is there anything you want to talk about?”

Percy's jaw tightened but he spoke politely enough, his voice devoid of emotion. “No, thank you, Harry. I'm just...” he didn't say what he was. There was no need.

“Harry!” It was Mrs Weasley calling up the stairs. “There's an owl for you.”

Leaving Percy to his misery, Harry went back down stairs and took the envelope. Tension filled the air. Even now, they all expected a letter to contain bad news: another death, another lost person. Harry huffed out a breath as he read the envelope, recognising the hand-writing.

“It's from Professor Snape,” Harry announced, aware that his pseudo family would probably already have known, given that he had used Pig.

He slit open the envelope and unfolded the thick paper within:

Evans,

As per your request, I am informing you that I am still well; my healing is almost complete now. My medi-wizards assure me that I should one day fully restore my voice and no longer feel pain and discomfort when speaking. At the moment, I must confess, it does still pain me greatly to attempt any great intercourse. Fortunately, save for my carers, I have no-one to bother me with constant questions. It is very relaxing.

Here Harry smiled, enjoying the not-so-subtle rebuke. Harry's letters to Snape were always filled with questions about potions and potion making. Following his moment of clarity after the battle, Harry wasn't going to waste a moment when he could be learning something that might be useful. And someone as knowledgeable as Snape was definitely a resource to make use of.

He turned back to the letter:

Your last letter was filled with queries about Field Potions. I assume you are still planning a career as an Auror, despite not finishing your formal education, and are reading some of the material considered essential by those less proficient than any one would hope would go on to become our protectors.

The particular potion you were concerned with is a very good all round antidote for the effects of jinxes, hexes, and even some curses. Hexes and Jinxes, belonging to the what is termed 'Moderate' level of Dark Magic, are always capable of having their effects negated by All Round Potion (an awful name, I grant you, but Potion Master Ian Literal named it, and he was, as his named suggests, very literal in his approach to all things). Curses up to, but not including the very Darkest (e.g. the Unforgivable Curses) can usually have their effects eased, even if not completely ended, through application of the All Round Potion.

Some wizards argue that the Potion is unnecessary as there are already spells for blocking jinxes, hexes, and even some curses. However, knowledge of each precise counter spell is needed to be efficacious, whereas only one bottle of All-Round can cure a wide variety of spell damage.

Making the All Round Potion is surprisingly simple. It just requires focus. So perhaps, after all, not simple at all for some people. The list of ingredients for the Potion is also somewhat off putting for many magical folk as the mixture requires sixty-seven separate items, and each must be added at the right moment and in the right way. But again, with focus, this is no difficult matter.

As for your other questions, there are other Potions in the Field Potions categories, but the All Round and a good healing potion are the two that most Aurors would need, I feel.

Regarding your (surprisingly intelligent) questions about the problems of rebuilding of Hogwarts: You have used Reparo to repair items that wanted to be in the shape you were repairing them into. By that I mean that a glass tankard, if shattered, will want to return to the whole form. With the castle, it is rather more difficult.

Hogwarts is not a single item, it is made up of millions of individual blocks of stone. Each stone needs repairing and after that, once every piece is back within range of the spell-caster, then an experienced and powerful magic user could convince the stones to revert to the places they have held for such a long time. As the castle has been standing such a long time, there is a chance of this Reparo working with something approaching relative ease. However, getting the blocks within the spell-caster's range would be quite the task on its own as I recall the giants being rather too enthusiastic in their destruction at times. And remember that Minerva does need the blocks within range – imagine the problems if a Reparo had no limit and worked on any item that needed re-forming! We would have a job hiding from the Muggles then!

No doubt this has raised further queries from you. Please do not hurry your response,

S Snape.

Harry smiled, feeling a load lift from his shoulders. Suddenly he felt alive and ridiculously happy. In this world that seemed to have changed so very much, it was comforting for one thing to be still precisely as it once was. Snape being Snape was a much needed constant in Harry's world. Even if they had had to hammer out a truce in their first few letters and agree that Harry would be addressed as “Evans” in deference to his mother, rather than claim his father's heritage. Knowing how much Snape had suffered at his father's hands, Harry had been quick to agree. It also gave him a warm feeling to see his mother's surname, and remember that he was just as much hers as James'. Neither of them commented on Snape's love for Lily, nor on the many memories Harry had seen in the Pensieve. It seemed wisest, all things considered.

But now he needed to go to Hogwarts. He gave Molly a swift hug, pecked Ginny on her cheek, then left the house, feeling the need to breathe in some clean air before facing the pull on his heart that was Hogwarts. He turned on the spot and disapparated.
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Harry Potter and the Expert Potions Master