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Harry Potter and the Secret Link	By : LeAnnRingo Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > General - Misc Views: 3407 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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~*~*~*~*Harry Potter and the Secret Link*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~*Capricious Purple Clarity*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~*Chapter Four*~*~*~*~

Severus Snape wanted to get one thing clear: he absolutely,
positively abhorred and detested children. He hated the scent
of sweat and outdoors the first years brought in; the
adolescence of the second years; the moody third years; the
disagreeable I-really-do-know-everything-and-you’re-just-an-old-foggy fourth years; the hormone-driven fifth years; the
hormone dripping sixth years; and lastly, the We’re-almost-out-so-why-do-we-care? seventh years. He hated children when
he was a child, and he hated children even more as an adult.
So why did he accept the position of professor?

Simple.

Sinistra. Potion professor of old, she didn’t like how the
fumes from potions made her hair look greasy. As she knew
about that thing with the guy in the extremely questionable
club in Naples -a thing Severus never wished to hear exposed
to the light of day- he was blackmailed. Damn sly Slytherin
hag. He satisfied himself with the knowledge Sinister Sinistra
was going to come down with a bad case of diarrhea soon.

Severus managed to keep his cackling in check. Such rare
moments of laughter needed to be bottled and saved for first
through fifth year Hufflepuffs. They always made the best
fearful whimpers.

Thinking of laughter, is that.... chortling I hear? Severus
almost flinched in discontent at such a rare commodity
polluting his humor-free hallway. It wasn’t as if Severus
couldn’t take a good lark every once and a bit; he and
Danforth were known to rival the Marauders in their wit,
cunning, and pranking. Too bad Danforth died at the Dark
Lord’s feet; Severus sort of missed the idiot from time to
time...

Such bitter thoughts need not pay heed. There was irrefutable
laughter... in his hallway! Oh the horror, the nerve, the
complete inanity of it!... Severus clearly thought, as he had
many times before, that he needed to start spreading the
sarcasm and melodrama a little thinner when it came to his
inner musings. Good insults and crabby emotions were wasted in
his own mind.

When he found the source of the laughter, any action of
looming and sullenly sulking-slash-glaring at the offender
quickly flew out the window. Two boys (”Now, Severus, sixteen
year olds are hardly boys,” he heard Albus admonish in his
head) stood in his hallway, one lost in petulant confusion as
he scratched his head through his thick mane of chestnut hair,
and the other doubled over, wheezing and struggling to get his
giggles under control as his normally pale face flushed a rosy
dusk in amusement, clasped eyes tearing, hair falling neatly
into his face.

Severus Saris Snape had not had the privilege to witness Draco
Ibenes Malfoy laugh so hard since his fourth birthday party,
when Lucius Malfoy had incidentally become the victim of
Jobblewokker Draught. That mirth had been celebrated by both
Severus and Draco when Lucius, speaking unwillingly in nothing
but pig Latin and periodically changing from spots to stripes
to zigzags of varying color, stomped off to brew himself a
cure.

It would be that brat, Severus conceded finally, staring long
and hard at the new Gryffindor. Of course he could see the boy
should have been sorted; even exchange students were sorted
into the houses as any normal first year. His anger with the
Drought of the Living Dead debacle.... followed shortly by the
Wolfbane fumes that engulfed his entire lab due to a little
too much asaine... Well, it overshadowed his desire to have an
extremely intelligent, cunning, and resourceful new Slytherin
in his midst. At the time, Severus believed Duo Maxwell would
have been more trouble than he was worth.

Yet the boy, no matter how troublesome, would have made such
an excellent addition to his house. Severus’ only consolation
was that Minerva McGonagall, Ice Queen of the Tight Ass, would
not stand for Maxwell’s accidental brand of insolence. The boy
had a fair chance of driving the old battle axe into early
retirement.

“I did something stupid, didn’t I?” sighed the braided boy in
resignation. Maxwell certainly did stupid things; still, he
was far from stupid. “Lay it on me hard, D-man. I can take
it.”

The youngest Malfoy managed to reign over his giggles, but his
amusement clearly shown in his silvery eyes as he straightened
and met the violet-eyed boy boldly. “Battle Axe McGonagall,”
Scary how his students managed to pick up nicknames he was
positive he’d never uttered, Severus filed absently, “doesn’t
own a cat, Maxwell.”

Maxwell frowned. Brightened in realization. And he finally
gained a sickened stance, wearily staring at the Slytherin
student before him. “I turned McGonagall green, didn’t I?”

Malfoy didn’t reveal the fact he had been impressed with
Maxwell’s quick deduction. “Full marks for astuteness,
Maxwell.”

What? Wait, that explained that potion Minerva had requested
through owl post. Severus almost grinned; there wasn’t a
chance that he was going to allow that old hag to live this
down.

Maxwell was beginning to look a little green himself. “I guess
now isn’t a cool time to think about what I did when I was
practicing that shaving spell...”

Draco was quivering so hard trying to control his mirth. Snape
felt something strange occur with his mouth; it twitched,
slowly tilting at the corners until he had an almost full-grown grin, and he was a little put-out to realize he hadn’t
felt such humor himself in a long while. Was that a snicker
that escaped from his throat?

Apparently it was. He found both boys facing him, he leaning
casually against the doorframe of his classroom, arms and
ankles crossed nonchalantly with a single raised eyebrow and a
strange tilt to his mouth. The braided boy didn’t look
surprised at the intrusion; Severus was positive the boy had
known he was there the entire time. Draco Malfoy wasn’t quite
so fortunate, and by the look in his eyes, he was probably
going back to his fourth birthday party as well; it had been
the last time he’d seen his godfather look so truly amused.

Severus found himself shaking his head. “Green and shaved...
It explains so much that is the old codger and how she’s been
acting.”

Draco caught himself smiling slightly, and the boy wiped it
away instantly. His face set into his perfectly stone-cold
mask, the boy corrected his stance; instead of pleasantly
relaxed as he had been, the blonde Slytherin had conformed
into his original stiff, up-tight posture. One would have
never guessed there had been a change, Severus mused to
himself thoughtfully, if not for the faint cords of content
that lay behind the young man’s stormy eyes.

Severus found himself taking a page from the younger man’s
book; it was effortless to slide his greasy-git Potions Master
facade back into its firm place. It had been a constant
expression for twenty years, after all.

“If the two of you insist on making nuisances of yourselves so
early on a Monday morning,” Snape sneered icily, “then I
suggest you step in and reassess yourselves for today’s lesson
instead of crowding the hallway.” The fact there were no other
students in the deserted hallway didn’t seem to detour the
dark man at all. “Higher Entities know some of you need the
study.”

“Of course, Professor,” Malfoy agreed amiably, gracefully
sweeping down to place his discarded possessions from the
stone floor and gliding into the classroom in one seemingly
fluent motion.

Through the entire proceedings Duo Maxwell hadn’t missed a
beat. He grinned and shouldered his own belongings, never
having fallen from his shoulders as Malfoy’s had, and he slyly
winked in the direction of his Potions Master. “Sorry, Prof,
just having a little outer-house experience,” he chirped in a
tone that clearly read ‘Oh bugger you, you old sod, and bloody
well take the wand out of your arse’... but without all of the
British denominations.

Malfoy stopped when he heard this explanation and had to scoff
in amusement. “Oh, I see. So you arrested my progress because
I have a nice arse?”

Maxwell was practically glowing in sensuality as he leered
appreciatively through a slow analyzation of Malfoy’s robe-clad body. “Correctomundo, amigo. You would be killer in a
pair of low-riding, black leather pants with a mesh shirt.”

“Ah,” Malfoy said slowly. The blonde Slytherin, Severus noted,
hid his ignorance well. I should give the boy a cookie for his
acting skills, remarked his Inner Severus.

“Funny you should say that,” the blonde boy went on, “because
Zabini said the same.”

A slow grin curled the corners of Maxwell’s mouth as he
finally took a step to enter the classroom. With a sly glance
to Severus, the braided boy remarked casually, “As a
forewarning -because I like you, y’know- D-man’s going to
rebel. Soon.”

And Severus’ treacherous mind whispered, Very soon. He could
not help being pleased about it.

----------

“Where did Duo disappear off to?” Seamus said suddenly,
startling the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors. Harry
blinked owlishly, his eyes swinging to the seat the popular
boy had once occupied. Sure enough, there wasn’t a sign of the
new Gryffindor.

“That’s odd,” Hermione remarked softly, barely heard above the
sudden din of the rest of the curious house. Harry knew
exactly what she meant; he was thinking the same. Duo might
have been new to Hogwarts, but Harry could tell the boy was
the sort that was outgoingly cheerful and naturally loud and
noticeable. Clear rarities like the length and style of his
hair and the amethyst tinge to his eyes, accompanied with his
sparkling personality were supposed to be hard to ignore. How
could a guy so casually entrancing, entertaining, and chatty
as Duo Maxwell suddenly... up and leave without notice?

Seamus blinked at the empty space beside him. “Huh. Did anyone
see him leave?”

Everyone within hearing shook their head in the negatives.

“You would think we would have noticed,” Dean Thomas frowned.
“One moment he’s entertaining us with fascinating tall tales,
the next he just... fades out? That’s very strange.”

“I wouldn’t look too much into it,” Ron replied, casually
munching on a piece of warm toast smeared with a liberal
amount of grape jam. “He probably went up to get his books or
something. God knows I’d like a minute of composure to prepare
for the Hell that is Snape’s class,” he added as a ruefully
bitter afterthought, drawing snickers from both Seamus and
Dean.

Harry glanced at Hermione for confirmation; both of them saw
how Duo packed most of what he needed for Potions into his
backpack, which he had carried down into the Great Hall for
breakfast. Duo had been very precise in his packing while he
readily chattered on and on about this and the weather and
that and flying and greenhouses three and six having been
taken out “through suspicious methods that might have
conceivably had to do with some misfortune on my account. I’m
sure it was an accident, whatever I might have not done. Who’d
want to learn about a bunch of freaky plants, anyway?”

The sixth year Gryffindors were slow to head to class; they
mingled lightly in the halls leading to the Potions dungeon
(“Anyone else think it’s so very wrong to teach class in a
dungeon?” Seamus had said moodily. Hermione replied with a
swift “don’t be stupid” and calmly explained that sometimes
some ingredients reacted badly with sunlight, and sometimes
fumes were too obnoxious to handle through the normal Hogwarts
hallways. No one wanted to admit that Hermione had a point).

The five Gryffindors were dismayed to see Malfoy’s watchdogs
prowl down the hall in a stumbling gait, finally reaching the
classroom and turning inside. “Great,” Ron grumbled, “and
where dumb and dumber go, the one with half a brain cell to
share is bound to be nearby.”

“He might already be gracing the classroom with his blond
presence,” an unfamiliar voice quipped, startling the four out
of their dismay. The reason for the unfamiliarity of the voice
was simple, and Harry was a little confused to realize: of the
five years they had been attending Hogwarts, none of them had
ever heard Blaise Zabini speak; at least, Harry was sure he
hadn’t. It was a common myth that Zabini was either deaf,
mute, or extremely anti-social.

Zabini’s voice, whatever the case, was deceptively soft and
musical. Millicent Bulstrode, another silent Slytherin, took
up a place at his side. Zabini glided by the four without
halting, Bulstrode trampling at his side like an elephant
joining a panther.

Clear dusky eyes flickered toward the group, an odd expression
of mixed disinterest and polite warmth painting those dark
blue eyes mixed with amber orange. “Or Greg and Vince just fed
him to the squid in the lake and they’ve come back for a round
of celebrating with butterbeer and Snape,” he added in the
same unchanging, musical tone, an eyebrow lifting in something
akin to amusement. An odd expression of closed-off interest
flickered across his coldly pretty face as his mouth tilted
into a small grin before adding, “You never really know.”

The two least antagonistic Slytherins (missing their usual
third, a plain-faced girl named Moon) seemed to lack venom
when it came to speaking with any students at all; of course,
they usually didn’t speak to any student at all. Is he...
checking out–? Harry was too stunned to answer his own
question, and quickly decided to shove it far, far away from
his mind.

“What a weirdo,” Ron mumbled when the quiet Slytherins were
out of earshot, scowling at their backs with venom as the five
s l o w l y made their way to the Class From Hell. “Why does
Dumbledore even put up with the lot of them? I say we save
ourselves the trouble and toss them all out with a nice, swift
kick in the bum for good measure.”

“I’m sure Slytherins have purposes,” Hermione insisted with
doubt coloring her voice. “Though it’s disheartening to know
that it’s a complete mystery.”

“I find them kind of entertaining myself!”

Harry was startled out of his absent musings by the jovial
voice that he’d grown so used to in just a day. “Duo!” he
said, pleased that the boy hadn’t actually disappeared into
thin air. “There you are. You vanished on us.”

The braided boy with the violet eyes was quick to grin,
letting his chair land solidly on all fours before standing to
meet his house mates. “I have a tendency to do that,” he
admitted proudly. “Actually, I caught sight of someone who
looked damn uncannily comparable to a friend of mine. I had to
go say hi and bug the crap out of him looking for any family
quirks I could find.”

“Did you find any?” Seamus questioned, placing his books and
taking a seat in the back of the third row.

“Yeah, but not enough to really see if Quat and the dude are
related.” He blinked at the congregation of Gryffindors taking
their seats in the back. “Why, exactly, are you guys all
sitting in the back?”

“Snape,” Hermione replied primly. “Every year since the first
the guys in Gryffindor try to take all the seats in the back.
Snape always spreads us out before taking ten points from
Gryffindor for conspiring against a teacher.”

The braided boy looked suitably impressed. “You can’t say Sev
doesn’t do things by halves, can you?”

“Too bad that’s one of the things he takes points off for that
actually happens,” Ron said resentfully, glancing around the
class before uttering a groan. Draco Malfoy certainly haunted
the dungeons already, along with cronies Goyle and Crabbe and
the oddly silent Zabini and Bulstrode. Parkinson was no where
in sight, but Lavender and Parvati had yet to show, either.

“I guess now isn’t a cool time to admit that I have a
shameless habit of flirting with him during class,” Duo said
with a lusty grin. The rest of the attending Gryffindors
stared at him in uncomprehensible horror. “What? Have you ever
seen that man in a pair of well-fitting blue jeans? Snape has
one sexy–“

“URGH!” Ron groaned loudly, clutching his stomach as if he was
in pain. Dean and Seamus didn’t look too well, either.

Suddenly Duo’s expression changed minutely, as if he realized
what was coming, and he began to shake his head and wave his
hands, trying to get them to stop, stop, STOP you idiots, but
they were too riled up to notice.

“He’s Snape,” Seamus moaned.

“His hair is greasy–“

“He’s a poncy git-“

“A poncy prejudiced git-“

“His nose takes up his entire face-“

“And he’s like fifty years old!” Ron ended Seamus’ and Dean’s
list of Why Snape Isn’t Good Looking Even In Third World
Countries, No Offense To Third Worlds.

“Potion fumes don’t make my hair look so clean, either,” Duo
pointed out. “He acts like that because it’s sickeningly
obvious he hates kids, but he’s been roped into a job that
requires being around them a good part of the year. He’s
prejudice because, frankly, everyone else judges him and his
house first, so I surmise he’s trying to get in his first. His
nose is a respectable Roman nose that looks very sleek on him,
and he’s going on thirty-six. It doesn’t change the very
apparent fact that Sevy has a very sweet package under those
billowy robes.” He suddenly looked a little guilty as he
clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on the back of
his heels innocently. “Nor does it change the fact, erhm, that
he’s, uh, been standing behind you since ‘Urgh’.”

Harry, tense because he had also seen the same thing as
Hermione and Duo had, slumped at his friends’ horrified, pale
expressions. His head fell against gravity, and he closed his
eyes tightly before reaching under his glasses to pinch the
bridge of his nose. Somehow he just KNEW he was going to be
roped into whatever punishment Snape would deal out...

When Harry’s emerald green eyes settled on the imposing figure
of a disapproving Potions Master, he couldn’t help noticing
that Snape just might have ‘a very sweet package under those
billowy robes.’

Oh, damn it all to hell...

END CHAPTER FOUR
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Harry Potter and the Secret Link