"Would you stop saying that?" Harry asked, feeling a bit weak at the thought. "It's not right for you to be doing this, Dobby. Why on earth would you volunteer for such an awful job?"
Dobby jumped up on the bed again and sat down next to Harry, and looked at him with wide, serious eyes. "Because Dobby will do anything for Harry Potter. If anything happened to Harry Potter's father, Harry Potter would be unhappy. Dobby is knowing this." His voice took on a grumbling edge. "And Dobby is knowing that Harry Potter loves his brother also. So Dobby will be doing whatever Harry Potter is wanting, though Dobby thinks that Master Malfoy junior needs--"
"That'll be up to his father," Harry interrupted, just in case Dobby was about to bring up the awful wizard's beatings Draco had suffered at Lucius' hands.
"Yes, Harry Potter."
Harry cast Tempus again and wondered why time seemed to be slowing down. Nothing for it, though. Getting up, he started to pace the length of his room and back. That meant he had to pass next to the floating plate of fairy cakes. "Where was that before you summoned it here?"
"Dobby was putting it in a safe place."
Harry almost said to put it back there, but since he didn't want to risk anybody else seeing it, he supposed he probably shouldn't. So in the end he said nothing about that. He asked Dobby more about the poisonings and found out that after the chocolate cauldron incident, two untraceable owl-post packages addressed to Snape had arrived. Thanks to Dumbledore's food-testing rules, however, neither one had made it past Dobby.
Harry still felt bad about Dobby getting sick over and over, but if it kept Snape alive, he didn't feel he could put a stop to it. Besides, Dobby was so happy to help!
He decided he'd just be sure not to mention Dobby's new job to Hermione.
"Has anyone ever gone back for Draco's wand?" Harry asked after a while. "Wait, never mind. They wouldn't, not now. I guess everybody knows Draco was expelled and his wand confiscated. Sorry, I'm not thinking too well right now. I just can't believe Draco did a thing like this, trying to kill off his Housemates! Even if it was just the ones who were working with Lucius against him!"
Even if it was just the ones who helped kill Pansy...
Harry could see him being angry, could see him wanting revenge. But murder?
Dobby jumped up and started pacing alongside Harry. "Dobby thinks he misspoke, Harry Potter. The cakes, they is poisoned and it is bad, bad, bad of Master Malfoy, but if he was trying to kill he would be using a stronger poison. This one will be making his Housemates very, very sick."
Harry stopped pacing. "How sick?"
Dobby snapped his fingers and a book appeared in Harry's hand. Harry was so startled he almost dropped it. When he spotted a bookmark, he flipped it open to that page and started reading.
The blood drained from his face when he spotted clover blossoms on the list of ingredients for the potion. But that was nothing to how he felt when he read about the effects of this particular poison.
Dobby spoke very softly. "Harry Potter's father will be finished soon with his Advanced Potions class."
"What?" Harry looked up from his reading, grim-faced. "Oh. Can you Apparate us both into his office?" Then he remembered what that had been like. "Wait, give me a minute to get ready. I'll bring the book; can you bring the cakes?"
Harry took three big, bracing breaths, and then nodded, wincing this time as Dobby snapped his fingers.
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Harry decided it was just as well he wasn't in Potions class that day. From what he could make out through the thick office door, Snape was in a terrible temper. Of course, that might be because he was a bit upset that Harry hadn't talked to him before leaving with Dobby.
Oh, who was he trying to fool? It was definitely because of Harry. Snape was picking on the Gryffindors even more than usual, and as the class drew to a close, began questioning Hermione so relentlessly about base potions that her voice started to waver. Probably he blamed Ron and Hermione for letting Harry go off, which was completely unfair since in the first place, they hadn't had much choice, and in the second, Hermione had done her level best to stop Harry.
"That will be all," Snape finally concluded in an ominous voice. "You are dismissed."
Ron and Hermione had evidently hung back to talk to Snape, mood or no mood, because the next thing Harry heard was, "Which part of dismissed overtaxed your feeble brains?" And then, in a slightly more reasonable tone, "Fine, fine, you're concerned about Harry. Well if you would leave I could begin to investigate his latest brainless stunt--"
"I'm right here, Dad," said Harry, stepping through the Potions office door, Dobby at his heels. "Hi Ron, Hermione. Sorry for leaving like that, but once Dobby decided to Apparate me I didn't have much way to stick around."
Hermione rushed to his side. "Are you all right?"
She was practically checking him over for bruises, Harry thought with a little irritation. "Yeah, fine. But I have to talk to my father, now. Family business."
"Oh... all right."
She looked awfully worried, so Harry gave her a smile. He couldn't help that it was strained, though. "Look, I might not see you again before we leave for the spring holiday, so I'll just say 'bye now."
Ron glanced at him and nodded. "Right. But you need anything, mate, you know where to find us."
"Oh, why would he need anything, Ronald? He'll be with his father!"
"You're just saying that in front of his father so he might forgive you someday for that stupid letter--"
Snape interrupted him. "As entertaining as your adolescent squabbles are, I get more than enough of that listening to my own sons, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley."
"Yes, sir," they both said in unison.
"Now if you don't mind, I believe Harry mentioned some family business?" As hints went, Snape's was more than pointed; it was razor-sharp. Ron and Hermione said a quick good-bye to Harry and left.
"Office," Snape announced without delay, marching in there and clearly expecting Harry and Dobby to follow. Once the door was closed he warded it thoroughly, then looked expectantly at his son. "Well? I presume you do have an adequate explanation for your absence throughout the afternoon session?" And then, in tones of astonishment, "What is a plate of fairy cakes doing in the middle of my desk?"
Harry collapsed into chair, feeling like he'd been carrying a hundred pounds up and down stairs. "That's my explanation. It's... oh, God. I don't know where to begin. But first off, whatever you do, don't eat one of those..." Harry shuddered. "Things."
Snape stepped towards the fairy cakes but didn't touch them. "For my loyal Slytherins..." A look of comprehension began dawning on his face. "That is not Lucius' writing. It is..." Snape practically staggered.
Harry knew the feeling. He held out the book he was still holding and said just one word. "Venetimorica."
Snape didn't need a book to know what that meant. He looked a more than a bit ill at the thought of that poison being distributed not merely by his son, but against his own House. Harry sighed, wishing he could say something to make it all better. "You were right about Draco's ingenuity."
Hmm, that probably hadn't helped.
Snape sat down behind the desk and stared blankly at the cakes, but Harry could see that he was trying to piece it all together. Or perhaps, come to grips with it. "I must admit, more context would be very... beneficial," he finally said.