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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.

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Chapter 24: Draught No. 7

As he opened the door to Severus’ lab, Harry felt a gentle rush of air tickle his nose. It’d been two weeks since his last visit, but somehow that had been enough time to make the scent he’d come to associate with Severus seem new again. Almost by reflex, he filled his lungs with it while his brain once again tried to identify its layers.

It had a somewhat herbal, stale aspect to it (though he suspected that was more to do with the castle itself, and the fact that the lab did not appear to have any ventilation) but the rest… that was all masculine. He didn’t know how else to define it. There was something distinct about the way a man smelled that Harry liked; there was a firmness, a roughness to it, whereas with women, even their texture tended to be softer, subtler.

When Hermione nudged him gently away from the door so that she could close it, he realized he’d barely got two steps inside. He didn’t know why the scent always drove him to distraction, but he decided he’d just enjoy it for now and maybe analyze it later. He was already a bit nervous about how Severus was going to act around him, after their halted kiss and his subsequently abrupt exit.

Harry could hear Severus in his stockroom in the back, and so he simply made his way across the room to where two identical chaise lounges had been arranged. If Hermione noticed how well he seemed to know his way around, she didn’t say anything.

When Severus emerged, Hermione was the first to speak. “Did you get my owl?” Harry looked up, but quickly realized she had been speaking to Severus.

“Indeed. Welcome,” Severus said as he turned to acknowledge their guest. “I assume Harry has shared the particulars with you?”

“Yes, sir, he did, and I’m quite excited – thank you for allowing me take part.” Since Harry was busy situating himself on a chaise, he missed the brief look Hermione and Severus shared, in which he nodded minutely and she offered a small, knowing smile.

“In here, you may call me Severus,” he said, more to the room than anything, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between them. He pointed his wand at a small cabinet that stood in one of the corners. A moment later, it was the black, high-backed chair Harry had come to associate with their Evochi sessions.

“Ha! So you do transfigure that chair from something!”

“Pardon me?” Severus asked, turning.

Harry flushed slightly. “Oh, um, nothing.” When Severus kept staring at him, a single brow arched over his left eye, Harry explained. “I’ve always wondered where you get that chair from, because I never see it in here when the lab is normal. When the lab is just a lab, I mean. Never mind.” He waved a hand dismissively and shook his head.

Hermione giggled. “Oh, Harry, you’re so cute.”

“What? Why?” An indignant flare crept into his tone.

Severus had since resumed his preparations, his back to the room. Since Harry couldn’t see his face, he had no idea how to read the man. He knew Severus wasn’t going to say anything about the kiss in front of Hermione, but even so, Harry thought he was acting a bit more professorial than the situation called for. But this was probably how it was going to be: Severus would just pretend the kiss had never happened. Disappointed, Harry sighed to himself.

“Because after everything that’s happened in your life,” Hermione explained, pulling Harry back to the conversation, “you can still look at magic with a sense of child-like curiosity and wonder.”

Harry pouted for a minute before smiling, realizing it was most likely a compliment. “Thanks. I think.”

She punched his arm lightly. “You ‘think’?”

They chuckled together as Severus walked over, two vials in one hand and his leather-bound journal in the other. “While these linked sessions are still under observation,” he started, “I will continue to split one instance of the potion into two doses. As we now know, you will have one hour.”

Harry could tell by the look on Hermione’s face that she still had some trepidation about the session, despite him answering all of her questions (and then some) before their arrival. In truth, anything he had told her was also for him, as he was feeling something of the same.

This would be his first time on the outside of a linked session, the observer position, and he was linking with a first-time Evochi user. It would also be the first time he had used Legilimency on Hermione – the very thing that had dictated who would get which role in the first place. To top it off, Hermione had been very tight-lipped about her intention for the draught, so on almost every level possible, Harry didn’t know what to expect.

Still, despite all the unknowns, he was excited Hermione would get to experience the potion firsthand. He gave her a reassuring smile as he pulled out his wand and mentally prepared himself for the delicate intrusion he was about to make. Regardless of the outcome, though, he knew Severus would be there watching over the session, and that, more than anything, gave him the confidence to proceed.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

Harry opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against a bright light above him. He instinctively drew up a hand to shield his face, squinting as his surroundings began to materialize. He was sitting in a long, institutional-looking hallway, and it was empty except for him.

With a start, he realized the grey mist he was accustomed to waking in was nowhere to be seen; moreover, this place had seemed to instantly appear, versus drawing itself out as was the norm for an Evochi construct. Stamping down the panic that was threatening to rise in his chest, he focused instead on noting another detail: the hallway was lined with doors, mostly uniform in nature, except the odd one here or there in color. If he didn’t know better, he would have guessed it was some kind of identification system, as no other signage or markings were visible. Even the walls were blank.

But perhaps even more disconcerting was the fact that all around him, everywhere, a deafening silence hung in the air, as though not another single, living thing existed. The white noise it left behind filled his ears. It was eerie.

Just then, a door to his right opened, and he jumped as Hermione stuck her head out.

“Harry! There you are! Oh, thank goodness, I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to find you!”

“Blimey, Hermione, you scared the shit out of me!” Harry gasped, his hand clutched to his chest.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed, flustered but smiling. She reached out a hand to help him up. He couldn’t begrudge her too much, though, as despite his heart pounding in his ears, he was beyond relieved to see her.

“What is this place?” he asked.

Instead of answering, Hermione simply held open the door she had come through and gestured. Together they left the hallway in favor of… another hallway. She seemed to know where she was going, though, so Harry just followed, trying to take in everything as they went – not that the view changed much.

At the junction of one corner, after several right and left turns that Harry had lost track of, he spotted a small, pink door, tucked away out of plain sight. The knob was nearly pulsing.

“Hey, look at this.” He walked closer and was just about to touch the knob when Hermione turned around and squeaked, her eyes going wide. “No, no, that’s definitely not the one we want!” she said hurriedly, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from it.

“But wait, it’s pulsing! Can’t you see it?” He pointed at it as she dragged him along.

“Yes, Harry, I saw it.” She blushed, and Harry grew even more confused. This was a place of hallways upon hallways, strange, pink doors, and at the moment, no forthcoming answers.

As they walked on, they passed no less than a dozen other doors, all closed and unmarked, just like every other one Harry had seen. He began to wonder if they were simply going in circles. The click of their footfalls on the polished, tile floor had been the only evidence of their presence, although even that echo seemed to bounce once before being absorbed into the absolute stillness that surrounded them.

“Hermione?” he tried again.

“Hang on, I’ll explain everything in a minute. I think I might have made this more complicated than it needed to be.”

Harry snorted, a retort or two about the inner-workings of Hermione’s brain coming to mind (Severus must be rubbing off on him), but he held his tongue. Instead, he said, “You do realize you can just create something else, something easier, right?”

Hermione stopped and turned slightly, as though contemplating it, a finger pressed to her lips. After a moment of looking in both directions, she shook her head and said, “No, I thought about that, but since we’re linked together right now, I was concerned that restructuring the setting might kick you out while it adjusts, and then I’d have to go find you again – if it lets you back in at all.”

“Oh. I hadn’t–”

“Wait!” she exclaimed. “I get it! Never mind, it’s this way.” She began to stride forward with purpose this time, and Harry had to trot to keep up.

After making two more turns down equally similar hallways, they finally stopped outside a large, black door. Immediately, Harry noticed it was different from all the rest. For starters, there was a plaque next to it on the wall, giving it the distinction of being the only marked door Harry had seen. Leaning closer, he saw there was a small, spherical shape etched into it – and nothing else. He traced his finger around the circular outline, feeling the indents and ridges that marked the surface. Quizzically, he looked up at Hermione, who was now smiling broadly.

“This is an observatory, Harry.”

Harry blinked. “An observatory? For what?”

“Why don’t you open the door and find out?” Her smile softened, causing her eyes to sparkle with regard. He’d seen that look on her before – it was usually in moments when they were sharing something just between the two of them.

The handle was cold when he wrapped his fingers around it, but it was unlocked, and he followed the path of it as it swung open. It deposited him in a darkened room and it took his eyes a moment to adjust. The carpet and walls were black, and the small sconces that dotted his line of vision were attached low on the room’s support columns, the faint, yellow light illuminating only the floor.

Stretched out before him, on the opposite side of the room, was an entire wall of curved windows that touched both the floor and the ceiling. Beyond it, outside, sat an inky, black backdrop. He was just about to ask Hermione what he was supposed to be observing when he felt himself take a step closer to the windows. And then another. And then a rim of glowing blue appeared.

He inhaled sharply and held his breath, his mouth dropping open. No… it couldn’t be…

Quickly making his way past the furniture in the room, his pulse racing in his throat, he watched as the view in front of him filled itself with an ethereal landscape – a vast orb of luminescence that glowed with blues and greens and wisps of white – until he was right next to the window, fingers pressed to the cold glass, staring spellbound at the most unbelievable sight he could imagine.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

“Oh my God,” Harry breathed. “We’re in… how did you… that’s Earth!” He looked a bit like a fish gulping for air.

Hermione smiled and wandered over to the window, coming to a stop next to him. “It is, yes. Do you like it?”

“Do I like it? What the hell kind of a question is that?” He turned to look back out the window. “It’s fucking brilliant!” Distractedly, he traced the shape of the globe through the glass, his finger leaving a faint smudge on the window as he went. When his forehead pressed to the glass with a light thump, he seemed to content himself with staring his fill, his face an absolute picture of awe and wonder and disbelief.

Hermione just watched him, wondering what was going through his mind, occasionally looking out the window to admire the view herself. Harry’s eyes seemed to be trying to map everything at once.

“Look, there’s South America!” Harry announced abruptly, his finger pressed against the glass. “And right about in there, in that little thin part above South America…” But he trailed off before he finished his sentence. Hermione couldn’t figure out what it was he had recognized, especially at this distance, or why that area of the world would be noteworthy or familiar to him, but before she could ask, he had moved on to comment on how big the Atlantic Ocean was. Then he seemed to vibrate with excitement when he realized he could almost make out western Europe.

It wasn’t that the planet was moving rapidly or visibly – or that their observatory station was – but rather the weather patterns in Earth’s atmosphere were changing just enough to keep hiding and revealing things, almost as if the session was trying to guide their exploration. It seemed to be working, for Harry’s next pronouncement was predictable.

“Hey, there’s Britain!”

She observed him with interest, the way his eyes continually scanned everywhere they could reach, trying to take it all in. After a few minutes on Britain, though, his expression started to lose some of its earlier excitement and his gaze shifted to the side. It looked as though something had just occurred to him. She tipped her head at him, about to ask what it was, when he spoke.

“I never would have thought to do this,” he said. “I would have missed seeing this because I don’t think this big.”

“You don’t know that. You’ve only had the ability to create Evochi realities for three months, right? You might’ve thought of this eventually.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…”

Hermione watched as Harry’s face fell further, dark brows pinching together in the center of his forehead. The joyous countenance he’d held only moments ago was now gone.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

“What is it, Harry?”

“Oh my God.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

He looked down at the floor with a pained expression, his temple still pressed against the glass. “You were right. Severus was right. Everyone told me but I wouldn’t listen.”

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“The war, Voldemort, all of it… it was always much bigger than me.” He turned back to the window and looked at the Earth again, his mind a blur of connections he hadn’t bothered to consider before. Never before had he felt so small, so insignificant. He was just one person on an entire planet. And Britain was just one tiny place amongst the whole.

“Harry?” Hermione asked quietly, reaching over to lay her hand on his arm.

“The Earth doesn’t revolve around me. How was I ever so stupid to think that any of this was about me?”

Hermione frowned. “Because you were a child, Harry. It was the singular focus of your life for seven years. It was the singular focus of most of the adults in your life for seventeen years, which meant that even if you were keen to forget it, someone was always there to remind you. What other conclusion do you think an eleven-year-old boy could have come to?”

“I don’t know. At least that the world didn’t revolve around me. I mean, look, I’m not even on the planet and it’s still moving! It’s getting on just fine without me.” He laughed darkly.

“It’s just a matter of perspective, Harry. Why do you think Dumbledore placed you with your relatives? I’m sure you know countless families in the Wizarding world would’ve loved to have taken you in, but Dumbledore wanted you to grow up away from all that.”

“He told me my mother’s sacrifice created an old magic protection and that I’d be safe there; it’s why I had to go back every year, even for a short time – at least until I was seventeen.”

Hermione smiled gently. “And did Dumbledore only ever do things for one reason? Surely you must realize he was far more strategic than that.”

“Well, I do now. At the time it was just hard to think about what I’d done to deserve the Dursleys as my lot in life.”

She frowned again. “I’m not sure he knew what they’d be like, but your mother’s protection was obviously the most important thing. That, and growing up away from magic and your famous name prepared you for what you were prophecised to do.”

“Yes, the pig for slaughter. I know.”

“Oh, Harry,” she said, stepping closer and putting an arm around his shoulders. She pulled him into her and squeezed gently, and they stayed like that for a while.

“Why did I never see this before?” he asked finally, his voice small. Angrily, he tried to blink away the moisture collecting in his eyes.

“Maybe you weren’t meant to. Did you ever think of that?”

He looked over at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started, a thoughtful tone to her voice, “if you had seen the world like this back then, Voldemort might have seemed insignificant, too. You might have written him off as irrelevant, or as someone else’s battle, and refused to face him. My point is, if you had had this revelation then, would Voldemort still have seemed worth fighting?”

Harry’s gaze dropped as he considered her words. If it wasn’t just about him, then it really had been everyone’s battle. Everyone had been in it for their own reasons. They might have died trying to support Harry in his quest, in trying to help shoulder his burden, but in the end, their deaths were never that simple. They died fighting for what they believed in, for their place in the world. They would have done it, with or without a prophecy; with or without Harry.

“As unfair as it was, I think you needed to grow up somewhat isolated. You needed to develop that fighting spirit. Otherwise, you may not have been the victor, and that… that is not something I’d like to think about.” Hermione smoothed Harry’s hair back from his forehead and squeezed him tighter against her.

What she said was true. Despite not being able to save everyone, despite all the manipulations, the odds stacked against him… despite everything, Harry had won. He had defeated Voldemort. He’d done what he set out to do. He’d even defeated the shade of his psyche that manifested as Voldemort, though that was his private victory. But surely all this success was for a purpose. Surely it meant something – if not always to him, then maybe to all those who had survived and were rebuilding their lives in a new world.

This world, Harry thought, touching his finger to the glass.

That was when he noticed it. A quiet gasp caught in the back of his throat. Even though Britain was only one small place, it was all connected. It formed a whole. From this vantage point, he couldn’t tell where one country ended and another began, for the lines on a map weren’t actually on the ground. Voldemort’s tyranny could have easily stretched outwards once he had conquered his native land. It had always been so much bigger than Harry.

Maybe what he’d done had really been for himself, then.

Harry shuddered, the sort of sensation that often accompanied his realizations, and it caused a lightness to settle that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. It was as though someone had just reached inside of him and lifted out the heaviness surrounding his heart. He looked back at the Earth. It was rotating so slowly as to almost be imperceptible, but it was moving, he was sure of it. There was a fundamental momentum there, even if it was small. It meant life went on.

And this time, he wanted to go with it – but on his terms.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

Severus leaned back in his chair and stretched, crossing his legs at the ankle. The black, leather-bound journal he used for notes and research about Evochi was open across his lap.

So far, Harry and Hermione’s linked session looked very much like a regular session, at least from the outside. Regardless, the observational research he was getting was invaluable, and Severus found himself considering publication of his findings once this process with Harry was complete (though all participant names and session details would be kept confidential, of course). The allure of pioneering an uncharted area of Potionry was nearly too much for him to resist.

After annotating another series of thoughts, he looked up and noticed a new development.

Sitting up more abruptly than he intended, he had to grab for the journal, which threatened to slide off his leg. Although Harry had made no sound – as Severus knew he sometimes did – he had what appeared to be two, thin trails of tears running down his cheeks. It could mean only one thing.

Breakthrough.

Severus looked at Hermione, whose expression had not changed. She still wore the same small, relaxed smile on her face. She had told him what she had planned for Harry; had sent it by owl in advance of her arrival today. Although she hadn’t been too specific, she said she planned to continue the work Severus had started in helping Harry heal from the war. She had picked an activity they could both enjoy, but something that would – how did she say it – adjust his perspective.

Always too clever by half, Severus mused, offering her his silent compliments.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

After the waitress walked away, Harry’s mocha and Hermione’s cappuccino puffing thin clouds of steam over the rims of fancy, white mugs, Harry leaned back onto the table and resumed the conversation about their linked session.

“So, explain to me why there were so many bloody doors in your Evochi setting.”

Hermione looked sheepish. “I’m sorry about that. We were actually in my mind. I was concerned that making up a location in space might be unpredictable or unsafe, and I didn’t want to risk either of our lives if something went wrong. Oh, shush,” she said at Harry’s wry expression. “I’ve not done this before and didn’t want to take any chances.”

“So that maze of hallways and doors – that was your mind?”

“Yes. I wanted to conduct the session in a place I was familiar with and that I could control, so I built the whole thing in my mind. It’s just that once I got there, it confused me, because I’m not used to navigating it in person, as it were.”

“Why didn’t you just mark the doors or something?” Harry asked, savoring a slow sip of his coffee, his hands curled around the mug for warmth.

“Well, normally I don’t need to, as it’s my subconscious accessing all those things. My mind knows where everything is, it’s just that I don’t… if that makes any sense.”

“Erm, I think so.” Then Harry remembered something else. “So what was that little pink door—” He stopped suddenly, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as understanding hit him. “I almost opened your—”

“Yes,” Hermione coughed. “You did. That door’s not for you, Harry.”

“Well, I know, but I couldn’t help it! It was pulsing at me!”

“It wasn’t pulsing at you, it was just pulsing in general.” She regarded him speculatively, then laughed. “I take back what I said earlier about you being curious. It’s no longer a compliment!”

They laughed together.

SSHP-SSHP-SSHP

After whiling away the afternoon over their coffee and shared conversation, they wandered out of Hogsmeade’s newest cafe and into the street, the cold November air a sharp contrast to the coziness of the shop.

“See you later, then?” Harry asked as he buttoned up his coat.

Hermione nodded and stepped closer to him. Her eyes mapped his face and he felt a little awkward under her scrutiny.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She smiled. “It’s just, you look… different.”

“I do? How?”

“I don’t know, exactly.” She tipped her head slightly, her smile growing. “You just do. Anyway, thanks for letting me join you today. Maybe we can try it again sometime – where you can choose the session,” she added hastily.

“I’d like that.”

Hermione leaned up on her tip-toes and wrapped Harry in a warm embrace. When they parted, he smiled at her.

“Thanks again.”

“For what? I didn’t do anything…” Her smile was sly as she wiggled her fingers in a wave, then turned on the spot and Apparated away. The light snow spun and whirled in the space where she had been standing, then fluttered back to the ground.

Harry nodded to his friend in absentia while a rare, content smile slid onto his face. Not ready to go home just yet, he turned and began to walk down the path away from Hogsmeade and into the little village of houses beyond. The crisp air clarified some things, resetting him, and with a deep breath, he eagerly filled his lungs with what felt like the promise of tomorrow.
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The Unexpected Side Effect of Draught No. 9