Midnight Duel, Midday Love
Encounters of the Snape and Dursley Kind
By Draco664
Encounters of the Snape and Dursley kind.
Dumbledore took a pinch of powder from the velvet bag hanging on his mantle and threw it into the fire. "Arthur Weasley." he said clearly.
It took several minutes for the Minister's head to appear in the fire. "Albus! Sorry to have kept you, I've got some rather bad news, I'm afraid."
Dumbledore nodded. "Likewise. Perhaps you'd like to give me your bad news first."
"A few of the captured Death Eaters have managed to escape."
"Really?" said Dumbledore, no surprise evident in his tone. "Including a Miss Allison Sanderson?"
The fiery image of Arthur Weasley looked down at some unseen paperwork. His head snapped back suddenly. "Yes. As a matter of fact one of the Death Eaters that escaped was Miss Sanderson. What do you know?"
Dumbledore sighed. "You should have been informed already. Miss Sanderson is now working for us. The Death Eaters that escaped were the less important ones, those whose loyalty was still questionable. We are hoping that Voldemort is desperate enough to give them more authority and knowledge than before."
The Minister sat back, a thoughtful look on his face. "I hope you are right. Who was supposed to have informed me?"
"Someone in the Order, from the Department of Mysteries."
"I see. I'll look into it. Your turn."
"Harry was attacked again. Under my very nose."
"Is he OK?" asked Mr. Weasley, concern filling his face.
"He is fine Arthur. If I believed in fate, I'd say fate was taking an active hand to ensure that nothing is able to get to the lad. The golem we received apparently had its focus tampered with, enough so that someone could remotely take control. On recognising Harry, it launched into him, driving the rest of us back. Harry dueled it to a standstill before managing to remove the focus from the golem."
"It drove the rest of you back?"
"It erected a shield between the faculty and Harry. We couldn't get through it."
"But, ho-"
"Arthur." Dumbledore interrupted softly, his gentle voice somehow overpowering Mr. Weasley's objection. "I will have a report on the incident delivered to you this evening. In the meantime, I need your help."
The Minister looked slightly upset, but nodded. "What do you need."
"Harry was going to visit his Uncle next weekend, to organise the murder charges to be dropped. I was hoping we could advance the visit to tomorrow, to throw off any planned attack on him."
"Royston won't be ready. He had to clear his client schedule for next weekend just to accommodate Harry."
Dumbledore nodded. "As much as I respect Mr. Royston's legal prowess, I have someone different in mind to accompany Harry."
A light went on behind Arthur's eyes. "You think it is time the Dursleys discovered they weren't the only ones looking after Harry." He said the word 'Dursleys' with a sneer.
Dumbledore nodded, a twinkle in his eye. "I would dearly love to see the look on their faces when they discover that Arabella is a witch."
Severus Snape gently tapped the base of the folded piece of parchment he held, slowly coaxing the greenish powder off the fold in the parchment and into the simmering potion he was preparing. The instant the potion started glowing blue, he stopped adding the powder.
Snape ran a finger down his notes, finding his place in the potion recipe. The Wolfsbane potion was difficult for even an experienced potion brewer to create; since it depended on the time of the month it was brewed to determine the volume of the various ingredients.
The dungeon door creaked slightly as it opened, and Snape saw Harry walk in, obviously troubled about something. The boy looked up and started slightly.
"Professor! I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to be down here."
Snape forced a snarl. "I do believe these dungeons are the domain of the Potion Master of Hogwarts. Unless you are far denser than I imagined, you are aware that I hold that position."
The barb in his words seemingly had no effect on the boy. "I'm sorry, Professor. I expected that you would still be in discussion with the aurors who came to examine the golem. I just came down to check our version of the poly-juice potion, to make sure that your absence at your scheduled time didn't cause a failure."
Snape's irritation at being interrupted vanished. The boy obviously took his responsibilities to their joint project seriously. "I just checked it a few minutes ago. It needed a dash more powdered cobra fang, but it seems to be stable."
Harry nodded and made his way over to the table where the pair's version of the mimicking potion gently simmered. "I had a thought. If we were to raise the temperature of the potion after adding the boomslang skin, and float a sliver of elemental ice on the surface, the mimicking properties of the chameleon skin will be intensified, while the overall rate of evaporation will remain constant." Harry looked up at the Professor. "I think it may increase the duration of the potion's effect."
Snape raised his eyebrows in both surprise and excitement. "Interesting theory, Potter. The ice would need to be wrapped in some sort of cocoon though. One that would allow the cold to reduce the temperature of the potion, but not allow the potion to come in direct contact, since that would freeze some of the liquid."
Harry nodded distractedly. "A sea-sponge would probably work, but I'd want to test it with some other potions first. We still have nine days until the boomslang skin needs to be added anyway." Harry's voice sounded distant, as though he wasn't focusing on the matter at hand.
Snape looked at the boy curiously. Something was wrong with him. As inconspicuously as possible, Snape withdrew his wand and pointed it in Harry's direction.
"I meant to ask you, where did you get your ideas for extending the duration of Poly-juice?" Snape asked casually.
The boy blushed, but still didn't turn to face the Professor. "Umm, I once saw what happened when someone took the potion with cat hair added instead. The duration was far longer than an hour."
Snape's eyes narrowed. "From your notes, it is obvious that you have brewed this potion before, but now that I think about it, you barely had enough time to do it while a guest of my former master. When did you brew it?"
Harry closed his eyes and winced as if in pain. "I brewed it a while ago." Snape kept quiet waiting for more detail. "In my second year here."
"Y-you brewed Poly-juice potion in only your second year?" Snape shouted, absolutely flabbergasted.
Harry nodded, still not looking at Snape. "We were trying to find the heir of Slytherin. What we tried didn't work."
Snape grinned evilly. "So you did raid my personal stores. The boomslang skin I saw in your ingredient's bag was taken from me, just not that year, but two years previously."
Harry shook his head. "I told you the truth, I have never raided your stores. Neither for that or for the gillyweed."
Snape looked at Harry curiously. In truth, he was incensed that someone had raided his stores, though it was certainly not the first time, or the last time it would happen. Barty Crouch had pilfered Snape's stores himself, posing as Alastor Moody. However, Harry's distraction was very out of character, enough so that Snape was starting to suspect that the boy in front of him wasn't Harry Potter.
"What's the matter with you, boy?" he demanded, now outwardly pointing his wand at Harry's head.
Harry snorted. "I doubt it would be anything you would be interested in." At this, Harry finally turned to face the Potion Master. Harry opened his mouth to continue when he noticed the wand pointed his way. With a yelp, he dived to one side, behind a stone desk. Not quickly enough though.
"Imperio!" cast Snape who was ready for such a reaction, the unforgivable curse hitting Harry in the leg as the rest of him disappeared behind the desk. "Stand up!" he ordered Harry.
A couple of seconds later, it became apparent that it was indeed Harry Potter, since the boy didn't appear. "Who are you?" came Harry's voice from behind the desk.
Snape gave a sigh of relief. "It is I, Potter. I was merely making sure it was in fact you."
Harry slowly crept out from behind the desk in a crouch, his wand pointing directly at Snape. "OK, so you know that I'm me, because I threw off the imperious curse. How do I know if you are you?"
Snape lowered his wand. "Ask me something only I would know then, you have a habit of finding out things you shouldn't."
With a wry grin, Harry said, "In my first year, you organised to meet somewhere with Quirrel. You asked him if he had found out how to get past 'that beast of Hagrid's' before telling him that he didn't want you as an enemy, and that you'd have another chat after he had time to decide where his loyalties lay." Harry watched with amusement as Snape's expression seemed to indicate that he was choking on something. "Where did the pair of you meet for that 'discussion'?" Harry finally asked.
It took a long time for Snape to answer. His face turned several different colours in the meantime. Finally, between clenched teeth, he said, "What in all the lower hells were you doing in the Forbidden Forest, Potter? Where were you?"
Harry relaxed and lowered his wand. "I was sitting in the tree above you, I'd flown there on my broom. I was trying to find out if you were going to steal the Philosopher's stone or not."
Snape's expression turned to one of disbelief. "Me?"
Harry nodded. "All I knew about you then was that you hated me, my scar hurt when I looked at you the first time. What was I supposed to think?"
Snape ground his teeth together in frustration. "Is there anywhere you don't go to eavesdrop on people?"
Harry sighed. "I saw you out of the corner of my eye, and I followed. That's all. I didn't just sit there assuming that I would be able to overhear a threatening conversation between two Professors at some point."
"You broke any number of school rules by doing so, Potter."
Harry nodded. "I know. I'd do it all again without hesitation if it went someway to stopping Voldy gaining power."
Snape looked deep into Harry's, no, not Harry's, Lily's eyes. For the first time, Snape considered Harry's past actions using Lily's motivations, not James'. "Yes, you would, wouldn't you." he whispered, finally realising that it wasn't fame and glory that drove the young man standing in front of him. "So, Mr. Potter," he said, more gently than he had ever spoken to Harry before. "What is it that is bothering you?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You really want to know?"
Snape nodded. "It is not entirely altruistic, Potter. I need an assistant with a clear head when dealing with the experimental potions we are working on."
Harry sighed and sat down. "Cho. This morning, everything was going wonderfully. Now, after the golem's attack, she sounds like she doesn't want to know me."
Snape had seen the effect Harry had had on the female population of Hogwarts over the years. He too raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The great Harry Potter has girl problems?" he said incredulously.
Harry's face coloured. "Forget it." He stood to leave.
"Wait!" said Snape. Taking a deep breath, he shocked himself by saying something he had never thought he would ever say. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. Harry. You didn't deserve that."
Now it was Harry's turn to be shocked. He shook his head in disbelief. "I think I may have to ask you another question about your past, Professor.
Snape felt the edges of his mouth curl slightly. "I don't blame you, I sort of feel that way myself." With a deep breath, Snape continued. "I am probably not the best person to speak to when it comes to women. There is only one woman I have ever loved. I'm sure you feel the same, that you will only ever love one person too."
Harry nodded, completely bewildered by what was happening.
"Given your rather special situation, I'd say that any person who is in a relationship with you will need a rather large dose of courage in order to handle the rather violent and chaotic events that are sure to surround you."
Harry gave Snape an appraising look. "You are in the same situation, aren't you?"
Snape nodded. "Yes, but not to the same degree. Since my old master's return, I have fended off over a dozen assassination attempts. Since your escape however, I have only had to defend myself once. While Voldemort would not be unhappy if I were to die, he is currently focused on destroying you." Snape reached out and gently gripped Harry's shoulder. "Anyone intimately involved in your life will need to have that fabled Gryffindor courage. Miss Chang may be pretty, smart and talented at Quidditch, but she has never struck me as being brave."
Harry nodded. "When she was taken with us back to Voldy's palace, I tried to keep his attention from her. She babbled a bit and pleaded to be set free. I had to silence her to make sure she didn't give away the fact that I wasn't torturing her." Harry thought about the other two close female friends in his life. "I can't see either Hermione or Ginny pleading like that.
"Perhaps I need to break if off with Cho. She already has had one boyfriend murdered. It took her a few months to get over him, even though they weren't particularly close."
Snape let him go. "You don't think that it is her decision? Give her time to think, then go and talk to her. Don't make a decision for yourself that affects both of you." Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You will live to regret it." he said with absolute certainty. "Believe me, you will."
Vernon Dursley absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of his prison issue uniform, more depressed than he had ever been in his life. In the months since his arrest, he had applied for and been denied bail twice.
Those blasted freaks! he thought to himself. They were everywhere. The first thing he had told his lawyer, Mr. Rollands, was the existence of wizards all over the world. Vernon would never forget the look of disbelief on the face of his legal counsel. Rollands, hired by Grunnings, had promised to look into his claims.
The next time Vernon had seen him, Rollands had a rather peculiar blank look on his face, and claimed to not remember anything about their last meeting. With an astounding leap of intellect, Vernon realised that the wizarding world protected its own.
Instead, Vernon now had to try and explain why there were no records of a child in his care being sent to secondary school. Or taken to a doctor, besides an optometrist when Harry was seven.
Rollands had told Vernon that Dudley had been questioned by the police, and had told them everything out of fear for himself. About the broom cupboard being Harry's bedroom until he turned eleven. How Harry had never been thrown a birthday party. How Harry had been locked in his room for weeks at a time, and fed cold soup through a hole in the door.
Then there was the testimony of the police officers who 'rescued' Harry themselves. Their description of a pale, almost skeletal boy in overlarge, dirty clothes was confirmed by the child psychologist Mabel. What happened to him that night was a mystery, no one could remember exactly, but all involved had testified that Harry disappeared that night.
Now, Vernon sat opposite Rollands, desperately trying to convince the man that Harry was alive and well, and probably at that school for freaks.
"I'm sorry, Vernon. But unless we can find the boy, murder charges will be brought against you. Give me something other than this fairytale of magic schools."
As Harry's Uncle opened his mouth to respond, a voice from behind his lawyer interrupted. "I wouldn't worry about being charged with murder, Dursley."
Both Vernon and Rollands turned to face the newcomer, a bailiff of the court. Rollands spoke, "This is a privileged conversation, you must leave or my client has grounds for an appeal."
The bailiff gave the lawyer a snarl. "I have to give you these papers, directly from the court. Young Mr. Potter has been found."
Rollands snatched the folder filled with a sheaf of papers from the court's representative, and hurriedly began leafing through them.
"Showed up to the local police station an hour ago, and made a statement." Continued the bailiff. He gave Harry's Uncle a look of contempt. "He seemed quite concerned that you are in prison, Dursley. I can't for the life of me imagine why."
"Your job has been done, sir. You may leave." Rollands said, terminating the conversation.
With a shrug, the bailiff turned and left the pair.
"Excellent!" said Rollands, slamming the folder shut. "I'll have you out of here within the hour. Don't move." The lawyer stood and made his way out of the meeting area.
Vernon couldn't keep the grin off his face at the thought of imminent freedom. Couldn't wait to get a hold of that brat of a nephew of his. It was all Potter's fault.
"Hello, Uncle." came a most unwelcome voice.
Vernon snapped his head up and found himself staring at his nephew. Standing a little way behind him but taking great interest in the proceedings was someone who, had Vernon been in a more focused frame of mind, would have recognised as none other than Mrs. Figg.
Ignoring the old lady, Vernon lurched to his feet. "You!" he thundered.
The boy in front of him rolled his eyes. "Observant. So very observant." he said scathingly.
With a roar like a bull, Vernon Dursley leapt at his nephew, the one person responsible for his incarceration for the last few months. His large, beefy hands outstretched, desperately wanting to find a grip around Potter's neck.
But the boy seemed to have other ideas. A split second before his hands closed round Harry's neck, Vernon felt off balance. A split second later his nose broke as his face slammed rather ungently into the floor.
Harry watched dispassionately as his large Uncle lunged at him. At the last second, Harry took a half step diagonally to the left and forward. With a quick flick of his right foot, Harry kicked his Uncle's right foot behind his Uncle's left. With a tangle of limbs, Harry's beefy relative crashed ingloriously into the linoleum floor. A muffled crack indicated that Vernon Dursley's nose would need medical attention.
The look his Uncle gave him almost had Harry in stitches. Like all bullies that get pushed back, Vernon Dursley looked as if he was expecting to wake up from a dream where the sheep had suddenly turned and started rounding up the dogs.
"Don't try that again. I may not be allowed to practice my 'abnormality' out of school, but I have learned to defend myself in other ways."
"What are you doing here, boy?" his Uncle snarled, trying to stem the flow of blood from his ruined nose.
Harry sighed. "Making sure you were not charged with murder. Seemed to be a bit premature, since you just tried to strangle me."
Vernon stood and did his best to tower over his nephew. "I'll deal with you later. Right now, my lawyer is getting me out of here." he said condescendingly.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I know. It's my statement that will allow him to get you out, idiot."
Harry desperately tried not to hurt himself trying not to laugh. His Uncle's face had turned a rather impressive shade of deep purple.
"What did you call me?" Vernon roared.
Harry blinked and, to Vernon's surprise, stepped forward, his face filling with rage. "I called you an idiot, you moron. Perhaps it has escaped you, but I no longer fear you. You are nothing compared to what I have faced."
Unconsciously, Vernon took a step backwards, trying to get away from his nephew's anger. Harry continued to move closer, refusing to let his Uncle out of range.
"I just wonder how your precious reputation has withstood your stay at Her Majesty's pleasure. You were always so careful to make sure that everyone thought you were normal that you treated my like dirt. Just think; how different everything would be, if you had just treated me with respect while I was growing up. Not love, I know that you are incapable of loving anyone you consider abnormal, but respect. If you'd have given me my own room, my own clothes. Had you done that, you wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have let the police take you away."
Vernon finally found he couldn't back up any further, since his back was now pressed firmly against the wall.
"How does it feel, knowing that your own intolerance for what you fear has ruined your own life so completely?"
"Ah, I take it from your statement that you wouldn't have let the police take your uncle away that he wasn't responsible for your appearance that evening?" came the voice of Rollands from the doorway.
Harry turned to face the man, his anger seemingly vanished. "Of course not. I put that in my statement."
A look of delight crossed the lawyer's face. "Then perhaps my client and I should discuss filing a suit against you for defamation."
Harry smiled. "Would you mind? I'd love to testify at that suit that I was locked in a broom closet for the first ten years of my life." Harry turned to look at his Uncle. "When I was exonerated for murder, my Godfather and I were each given half the assets of both the man who framed me and the man who ordered me framed. I now happen to be one of the wealthiest people in the United Kingdom. According to my bank, my assets are in excess of a billion pounds." Harry turned back to the lawyer, who had turned pale. "Do you think you could file it soon? I'm sure my own lawyers would love to file a counter-suit."
It was Vernon's turn to go pale. "Godfather? Exonerated? A billion pounds?" he babbled.
Harry nodded and gave his Uncle the most evil smirk he could. "Just think, if you had treated me with respect. I'd probably have given you some of that money for raising me. Probably at least ten million."
"Ten? Million? Ten million? Pounds?"
Harry nodded, still smirking. "But not now though. I did what I came here to do. Stop murder charges against you. The child abuse charges, you will have to sort out by yourself." Harry turned to his companion. "Can we go now, I'm sick of the stench of him."
As she nodded, Vernon finally recognised her. "Mrs. Figg! What are you doing here?"
The old witch looked at Harry's Uncle with barely concealed contempt. "I brought him down here as my client. I'm a retired lawyer, Vernon. Harry's headmaster asked if I could accompany him here, in case you got... difficult. You see, I also have Harry's... abnormality."
The witch and student wizard watched in amusement as this final revelation caused Vernon Dursley to babble incoherently to himself.
It had been a long time since he had laid eyes on the boy. Now, crouched next to the fireplace of the house he had broken into, he waited patiently. Malevolent eyes gleamed in low light, just waiting for Potter to show his messy head.
The fire flashed red, and the most recognisable wizard in the world stepped out gracefully.
With a low growl, the intruder leapt at Harry, trying to bear him to the ground.
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