Harry Potter and the Expert Potions Master | By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 21281 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe. I make no money from this story. |
Chapter 20 - Senseless
Back at Auror training on the Monday Harry forced himself to put all thoughts of Snape out of his mind. It was no easy task, especially as he now carried the small mokeskin pouch tied through a belt loop and it thumped gently against his thigh with every step, making him think of the potions inside, which inevitably led him to thinking about a certain sexy, snarky Potions Master.
He had decided to go and collect his wand on Tuesday if training didn't run on too late, and if he wasn't too tired after having spent Monday evening with Snape, trying to focus on wandless magic, and trying to ignore his raging erection.
Glancing around the room waiting for the two wizards to appear – they had finally learnt their trainers' names: Benjamin Williams and Cathasach Dubhshláine – he noticed that there was a buzz of chatter amongst some smaller groups. Neville was in one so Harry waited, knowing that Neville would tell him anything of interest.
“Hi, Harry!” Neville called as he spotted his friend and began walking towards him.
“Hi.” Harry nodded in the direction of the groups. “What's up?”
Neville's lips pursed together for a moment. “You know Yolanda Wight and Beth Draconis?”
Harry nodded. The two women were both trainee Aurors and got decent enough marks. He had liked them without ever really getting to know them – the two women had kept themselves separate more often than not.
“Well, they've both been arrested.”
Harry gaped at Neville. “Arrested?! What for?!”
“Unnatural acts.” Neville looked like he wanted to wash his mouth out. “They never said anything, but they've been together for a few months now. Brett Raven heard them talking the one day and worked out what they were. He told Dubhshláine so he could investigate. Guess he did because they were arrested over the weekend.”
“W - where are they now?” Harry's throat was dry. Was this what awaited him if he ever got together with Snape?
“Holding cells here under the Ministry.” Sounding disgusted, Neville went on, “they'll have their trials as soon as possible, but there's still a backlog of Death Eaters and others who abused the system.” He added grimly, “They'll get theirs, though!”
“Is it so terrible?” Harry asked, trying to sound reasonable, and not as though the answer mattered almost as much as life or death.
“Terrible?!” Neville choked for a moment. “They were doing perverse, disgusting, Unnatural things! Foul, evil, unmentionable things that no decent witch would do!”
“Ah, but you forget Harry enjoys foul, evil things too!” It was Ron who butted in, voice venomous.
“Fuck you!” Harry snapped, anger rising.
Head switching from one man to the other, Neville asked hesitantly, “What does Ron mean?”
“Ron means,” Harry answered, never once taking his eyes off his ex-friend, “that his baby sister couldn't stand me rejecting her so she spread it around that I'm attracted to men. Unfortunately for her, everyone saw through her little stunt and realised she had failed to keep me.”
Ron snarled and stuck his wand dangerously into Harry's face. Laughing coldly, Harry pushed it away. “Truth hurts, doesn't it, Ron?” Harry asked cruelly.
“Ass hole!” Ron yelled and tried to curse Harry.
Unfortunately for the red-head, Harry was a much better duellist, and was better at non-verbal magic. So whilst Ron announced each spell, Harry cast Protego so that the curses rebounded. He laughed as Ron went flying across the room, skidding into chairs as he was taken down by his own spell.
Neville, ever the decent person, raced over and pulled Ron up. Snarling, the other man shook his friend off and sent another curse speeding towards Harry.
Harry didn't need to cast his shield again as the two wizards had appeared and both aimed spells at Ron who froze and toppled ungraciously onto his face. Wincing in sympathy, after all, poor Neville had had experience of that particular spell, the wizard turned Ron over and looked sorrowfully at him.
It was Williams who spoke into the sudden silence of the room. “Potter. Weasley. This better be good. And believe me, if the explanation isn't superb, both of you are kicked out.”
Feeling his world closing in on him, Harry explained what had happened as matter of factly as possible. He kept his anger and hurt over Ron's attitude out of his voice, knowing the teachers wouldn't want to hear it. “Neville was telling me about Wight and Draconis being arrested. Because I was brought up by Muggles, I asked Neville if what they had been arrested for was so bad, really. He was explaining when Ron repeated a rumour about me that his sister started after we'd broken up. I – erm – was rather rude about his sister and he tried to curse me.”
Williams ended the incantation on Ron and asked if what Harry had said was essentially correct. Getting to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury, Ron nodded, although it was obvious to everyone that he was bursting to justify his actions.
“Sach, can you carry on whilst I deal with these two?”
Cathasach nodded, face tight with suppressed emotions and Ben led the two wizards out of the room and into a small office.
“Sit.”
They sat.
“I'd already noticed your animosity towards one another. Weasley, you seem to be going out of your way to sabotage Potter. And Potter, you could have done far more to resolve this issue, rather than let it fester as it clearly has done.”
Both younger wizards waited, scarcely breathing, hoping they weren't going to be removed from the programme.
“We expected, at some point, that a few trainees would need to work on compromise, but I didn't expect either of you to be here.”
Williams dragged a piece of parchment towards him. “Everyone else is having a lecture about the limitations of human transfiguration. You two will just have to find out that information for yourselves as you will be together all day, working on a separate project. Fail and you're both gone.”
Harry felt ill. Was he going to miss out on potentially sixty points?! Ron looked pale under his freckles too, though whether that was at the lost points, or the prospect of a day in Harry's company, Harry couldn't say.
Williams said, “You have a simple enough task. When you leave here you'll go to one of the training areas. All you have to do is reach the exit, both of you, and you'll have passed.”
The wizard looked carefully at them both and aimed his wand at Ron's eyes. He flicked his wrist before turning to Harry. A curious quiet descended on Harry. He saw Williams' lips moving but couldn't hear anything. With a jolt he realised that the wizard had deafened him. Judging by the way Ron was moving his head and waving a hand in front of his eyes, he had been blinded.
Fucking hell! Harry thought as Williams stood up. Harry nudged Ron to his feet and guided him through the archway that led to the outside training grounds.
He and Ron were completely alone. No doubt though, there were bound to be people keeping an eye on them magically. The field was huge, and there were areas where there was a bridge, a large lake that couldn't be walked round, some stone puzzles and other things stretching into the distance.
“Shit!” Harry said. It was odd to not be able to hear himself.
Ron turned in the direction of Harry's voice. He began yelling something at Harry, not that any of it could be heard.
“Ron, I can't hear you.” Harry intoned, having no idea what inflection his voice had.
The red-head stopped speaking and seemed to be evaluating the situation. There seemed to be a furious internal battle raging. Finally his expression cleared. He mouthed slowly and clearly, “Have to work together.”
Harry agreed. He didn't like the idea, especially as he could see the problems ahead, but it was that or fail.
Getting out his wand, Harry flicked it so that a golden rope tied them together. There was roughly six foot of cord between them, and as Harry tugged on it, he felt it give slightly.
“That'll stop us losing one another,” he had the vague feeling that he was shouting, but modulating his volume was going to be difficult when he couldn't tell how loud he was.
Ron nodded. “Where do we go?” he asked.
Tapping Ron on the shoulder to warn him that he was going to move, Harry led off. Ron stayed beside him, at times putting one hand on Harry's shoulder to assure himself that Harry really was there still.
Their first obstacle was a large stone gateway at the bottom of a valley. High boulders jumbled up on either side, making the door the only way through. Harry stopped and explained why to Ron.
On the door was a hollowed out section and at their feet were nine stone tiles. Harry told Ron all this and began picking up the tiles and placing them into the door.
Ron abruptly shook his head and tried to reach for the last tile Harry had put into place. He grazed his knuckles painfully on the stone work, but tugged the piece out. Tapping his ears to indicate that there had been a noise, Ron held out the stone tile to Harry.
It took them nearly ten minutes of frustration and hard work, to put the tiles into their correct slots so that the door swung open. The view was one of a large field. As the two wizards stepped across the threshold, their wands vanished. “Oh, shit!” Harry groaned and could tell that Ron was muttering something just as impolite. Wandless, Harry set out across the field, tugging lightly on the rope to get Ron moving.
As they walked, Harry admitted that he was surprised at how well Ron was taking being blind. And that Ron was actually prepared to work with him. Still, during moments of action Ron could generally be relied upon to do the right thing, it was when the rush of adrenaline was over that he was an idiot.
Harry took a step and fell into nothingness. He shrieked and landed at the bottom of a narrow hole dug straight down. Ron had fallen to his knees, the arm attached to Harry disappearing into the chasm, but he was still on ground level, rather than below it.
“Ron!” Harry called up, “I've fallen into a hole. It's about twelve feet deep and I can't see any hand holds.”
Ron muttered something and Harry felt a moment of utter despair as the end of the rope landed beside him in the hole. Ron had gone.
A few moments of bone chilling loneliness assaulted him before the light above was blocked by a Ron shaped shadow. He was waving his arms and saying something but standing as he was against a bright sky, Harry could only see a dark figure.
Then Ron did something very brave and very stupid.
He sat on the edge of the hole and dropped down into it.
“You fucking idiot!” Harry yelled, “How do we get out now?!”
Ron turned his back to Harry and held his arms behind him. Staring in confusion, Harry didn't move. Irritated at Harry's lack of comprehension, Ron manoeuvred Harry so that he was facing the soil and put his arms in the same odd pose. Then Ron placed his back against Harry's and hooked his arms through.
“Oh!” Harry cried, suddenly understanding.
The first few moves were difficult, but once they were both able to walk up the sides of the shaft, they pushed against one another easily and made it quickly to the surface. Getting out took a bit of effort, but was eventually managed.
“Thanks, Ron,” Harry panted as he lay on the grass, knees suddenly shaky.
That evening, exhausted from the day's challenges, Harry walked dejectedly past the display of the day's results. As he had feared he had gained three zeroes, as had Ron. Angry that he had spent the day deaf, had lost sixty points, had extra work to do to catch up and was now in a foul mood for Snape, he hurried out and apparated to Spinner's End.
“Sir?” he asked as he knocked, revelling in the simple pleasure of hearing his fist on the door, and of hearing his own voice as he spoke.
Snape opened the door and waved him in. He didn't comment as Harry stalked into the living room and almost threw himself into a chair.
“Good day?” he asked innocently, turning away to hide his smile as Harry exploded.
“Fucking wanking bastard assholing shitbag of a day!”
Snape bowed his head at the impressive invective.
Relating his experiences, Harry got up and paced about the room. He had been so worried all day about failing that he hadn't had a chance to be hard, now though, his body was making up for it and he stopped walking, balls throbbing.
“And now,” he finished, “I have to read up on human transfiguration too, as I missed that lecture!”
“Sorry,” he said after drawing in a deep breath. “I just ...”
“Oh, I quite understand.” Snape said. “However, I hope some good came of it? Are you and Weasley bosom buddies again?”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “No,” he replied, “I don't think Ron and I can ever be that again, but we can at least tolerate one another now.” He threw himself into a chair, depressed as he thought about what had sparked the duel in the first place.
Snape asked and Harry explained, never once looking up into the dark eyes. Had he done so, he would have seen the same fear that he felt.
There was a pause and then Snape spoke, his voice deliberately casual and calm, “Wandless magic?”
Harry nodded feeling a sense of desolation fill him. It was bad enough wanting this man, but how could he ever risk saying anything if the threat of Akaban was always going to hover in the distance? He'd known, after reading the law, that what he wanted was illegal, but somehow it hadn't hit him what was at stake until the two women had been arrested.
Following Snape into the passageway, Harry's thoughts reeled, which wasn't conducive to casting effective spells without a wand. After nearly fifteen fruitless minutes Harry screamed, “Fuck it!” and snatched up his wand. He stalked angrily into the living room and resisted the urge to destroy everything in sight. After all, it wasn't Snape's fault Harry couldn't focus. Well, yes, it was, but not something he was conscious of.
Frustrated, Harry collapsed into the guest chair and burst into tears.
Snape had followed Harry back into the room and had watched warily as Harry's fist had clenched around the sparking wand. Now he stood still, utterly unsure of what to do. Emotions had never been his strong suit. He had spent his whole adult life repressing his feelings. Dealing with someone like Harry, who was all emotion and pent up passion, terrified Snape and made him see just how hopeless his wild longing was.
Covering his face, Harry tried to stop the tears from falling but the fear, frustration, helplessness, and anger he had felt all day needed an outlet. He wished Snape would hold him. Just hold him. He needed someone to lean against that he could trust not to betray him.
Sitting down, hands clenched in his lap, Snape resisted the urge to kneel beside Harry and pull the distressed man into his arms. He didn't because he felt his attempt to comfort would be futile. What did he know about easing the pain of others?
At last Harry snivelled and snorted the dripping snot back into his nose. God, what a mess!
Aiming for nonchalance, Harry asked, “You know my Dad, Sirius, Remus and Pettigrew made a map that showed where people are? Could that magic be replicated? You know, so I could have a map that showed me an area and where people are?”
Snape had not been expecting such a question after Harry's storm of weeping, but his agile brain saw the possibilities and liked the other wizard's thinking. “That's a good idea,” he said, voice almost emotionless, “I don't know how easy the spells will be to replicate. But it would certainly be worth thinking about. Although you have already given me a few tasks already!”
“What tasks?” Harry asked, “I've only asked you to look at a personal shield charm.”
For a moment it looked as though Snape was going to say something, but he stopped himself. “Yes, of course. Still, that is quite a big task.”
They sat in silence. Harry still felt horribly embarrassed that he had cried in front of Snape. He was sure that Snape would never see him as an adult now, not after his fit of sobbing like a little baby.
Snape enjoyed silence. He always had. As a teacher he had never got enough of it; there had always been some crisis whenever he had managed to arrange a quiet evening free of marking or planning. Now he sat, wishing for a glass of firewhisky to drink as he waited for Harry to leave. He didn't want Harry to go, wanted, in fact, the other to stay and warm Snape's bed, but as that was an impossible pipe dream, he waited for Harry to walk away from him as every other important person in his life had done.
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