"One doesn't have much chance to acquire such items off a living specimen." Snape lightly shrugged, just as casual as Draco had been, when on the night in question, he'd practically rubbed his hands together with glee, he'd been so excited!
"Turns out a wanded Stupefy causes a coma so deep it's practically death," Harry added.
"Which was just as well in the circumstances," Snape allowed, "But I never requested you incant something as daft as Serpensortia in the first place. That was reckless in the extreme, Harry." He turned his attention to Ron and Hermione. "You can see why I'd like him to have some friends close by his side when he resumes classes, though seeing as the two of you are Gryffindors as well..." He let the comment hang in the air.
"We'll keep him safe, Professor," Hermione assured the Potions Master, threatening Harry with a stern look.
"Yeah," Ron promised as well, "even if we have to take his wand away."
"No, we can't do that," Hermione declared. "He's supposed to keep his wandless magic a secret, I suppose? So that's why you tried to accio his wand that night. You thought it would stop him." Nodding briskly, she turned to Harry. "So, you have to hold your wand but make sure you don't incant through it. Is that difficult?"
Harry nodded too. "You would not believe how much," he moaned. "I sometimes cast wanded spells by accident out here, though they're not usually fully-wanded, if that makes sense. I can make most of the energy flow through my hand and out my fingers, but once in a while a little spark gets misfired through my wand and the spell comes out stronger than I intend."
"At this point," Snape informed her, "errors on his part are actually quite rare. It is only when he is not paying attention that they tend to occur. So your role in helping him will also consist of making sure he is fully focused on the task at hand when he is using magic, be it in class or to defend himself in the corridors."
"Yes, sir," Hermione answered, clearly taking the admonition seriously. "Could I watch the two of you practice dueling for a while, so I get a sense of how Harry is managing?"
"The three of us," Harry corrected. "Draco too, I mean. And it's not exactly dueling. It's more like me defending from all angles while they both take their best shots."
"Well that won't do," Hermione declared. "You have to practice offensive spells."
"Are you volunteering for target practice?" Harry wryly asked.
"Ron and I are both volunteering," the girl insisted, even though Ron was shaking his head no. Actually, it was more like no, no way, no effing way, but that hardly deterred Hermione. "We need to simulate a battle. All four of us will attack you. You concentrate on defending yourself and taking us out. Because defense alone isn't going to end a battle, Harry."
"I might accidentally melt your face off or something if a spell misfires!"
"You'll be concentrating. You won't let slip into wanded, and certainly not fully-wanded." Having said that, though, Hermione appeared to reconsider. "Maybe to start you could do without your wand, just as a safety precaution."
Harry cast her a doubtful look. "No, my father wants me to--"
"Miss Granger's suggestion is sound," Snape interrupted. "You have had enough practice with defense exclusively, but neither do we want accidents."
With that, the four of them moved to surround Harry, though Ron, he noticed, joined in only reluctantly. Resigned, Harry pocketed his wand and stretched out his hands to opposite sides as though to ward everyone off at once. Good thing, he thought, that he'd gotten quite used to taking lightning-fast glances at his crest to orient his language. With four opponents hexing him at once, he definitely hadn't time to really gaze at the snake image.
He managed to block everything they could throw at him, though his concentration faltered when Draco silently slipped away, only to return on his broom, tossing hexes down from above. A stream of silver light catching him unawares, Harry failed to deflect the Rictusempra and found himself collapsed on the ground, laughing uncontrollably as hundreds of phantom fingers sought out his most ticklish places.
"Finite Incantatem!" Snape roared, and then before Harry could so much as stand up straight, his father was hurling Diffindo at him.
Harry countered it with a hastily constructed shield, but his focus was off and a partial hex filtered through to split apart the sleeve covering his right arm, and the skin beneath. "Shite!" he yelped, expecting Snape to call a halt. He always had before when Harry was hurt. This, though, was more than practice. It was a mock battle, and the way Snape was raising his wand again reminded Harry that in battle, his enemies wouldn't stop when he was down; that was when they would attack all the more fiercely.
He got a decent block up before another Diffindo could rupture some other part of him, then gritted his teeth and cast his version of Furnunculus at his father and a quick Expelliarmus at Hermione who was sneaking up on him from behind.
"Enough," Snape pronounced, approaching.
Wincing at the ugly boils that now covered his father's face and hands, the boy glanced down at his crest and murmured, "Go away boils," as he pointed one hand toward Snape. And then, in miserable tones, "I'm sorry, sir--"
"It is no matter," the man said, though he frowned. "It concerns me that you did not fight back until you were injured, Harry."
"Well, I didn't want to hurt any of you!" Harry exclaimed. "Besides, I'm sort of in the habit of just blocking. You know." He clenched his teeth as Snape applied a healing charm to his arm, and at Hermione's look said, "I'm not very good at those."
"No-one's very good at self-healing, I don't think," the girl murmured as she walked closer to examine the results of Snape's spell. "And now you have another huge bruise." She cast reparo on his sleeve for him.
"Severus has a potion to make that go away too," Harry said defensively.
"But drinking it too often isn't a good idea. Yes, Harry, I understand. I do understand now, all right?"
"Yeah, all right."
Hermione took her wand back then. "I'm relieved at least to hear that your combat spells aren't all as long as the counteraccio you used against the professor. I was a bit concerned."
"Oh, that." Harry thought back. "Hmm. Well, I have several versions of some spells. I could have just said stay put, but I was actually pretty worried that wouldn't work against Severus, especially doing it wandlessly, so I used the strongest one I've found: you stay put right where you are."
Ron whistled in through his teeth; Harry wasn't sure why. Was Ron excited that Harry could best Snape?
The Potions Master must have thought that was the case, for he flared his nostrils in irritation as his gaze raked the red-haired boy up and down. "Given my son's probable future," he scathed, "I certainly hope he can defeat me. Voldemort, you understand, is far stronger than am I."
Ron nodded, looking shamefaced; Hermione looked up with interest at hearing Snape say Voldemort, but didn't remark on it, instead saying, "Again. Are you ready, Harry?"
Harry glanced at his father, correctly reading the look in his eyes. "Don't bother asking," he sighed. "My enemies won't."
And with that, they began again.
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