The Slytherin boy leaned back, his features settling into something almost complacent. Harry knew two things then. Draco was almost convinced that Snape had no idea about the poison and he thought he'd come up with a pretty clever way to avoid anybody eating those cakes.
He wasn't counting on the fact that Snape could plot circles around him.
"Draco, I can't believe you'd even suggest such a thing," the Potions Master began to lecture. "Especially after all Harry suffered at the hands of his so-called family. I would never think of using food as a punishment, and I'm frankly astonished you would have to be told that."
Uh-oh, thought Harry. Here it comes.
"Harry, I absolutely insist you have that fairy cake," Snape went blithely on. "You'll have a detention for missing class, as I said, and that's an end to that matter. You enjoy your dessert as well, Draco."
His hand trembling slightly, Harry lifted his fork again. Really, this was getting to be too much, and he didn't care what Snape had said about following his lead, he was not going to poison himself to prove a point...
Poor Dobby...
Harry thought he'd never seen such a putrid colour as that horrible bluish-green icing as it came closer and closer to his lips.
Just when he thought he'd have to give the game away, Draco stood up and forcibly knocked the fork from Harry's grasp, sending it clattering across the floor.
Thank God, Harry thought, his stomach seeming to drop away from him in a way that made him think he might fall out of his chair. Thank Merlin... oh, thank whomever!
Snape shoved back his chair as he stood up, towering over the table like some wrathful demon. "What's got into you?"
Draco stammered. "Harry can't eat it, that's all!"
"And why not?"
Again, that shifty-eyed look as Draco struggled to explain his bizarre actions with anything but the stark, horrible truth. "The elves, that's why!" he gasped, clutching the table edge. "They've been awfully dodgy lately! Muttering, I mean. I... uh, have a lot of contact with them, you know, through the Floo, and well, I think they're trying to get Harry!"
"Get Harry," Snape repeated in tones of contempt. "And that would mean?"
"Well, hurt him, of course."
"I see," murmured the Potions Master. "Or no, perhaps I don't. If the elves are determined to get Harry, as you put it, then why on earth did you let him eat his elf-prepared meatloaf, Draco?"
That time, Draco was ready. "Well when elves want to get you," he drawled, "they always taint the desserts, Severus! Don't you know that? Oh! You don't have a house-elf, do you, so I suppose you can't be expected to know..."
Harry had to admit, that particular speech was almost believable.
"I find it hard to credit that the house-elves harbour a grudge against Harry," calmly countered Snape, "and even less likely that they would carry out said grudge by leaving tainted food in the wrong common room. They are in fact intelligent beings, Draco."
"Well he is a Slytherin as well--"
"If you believe that Hogwarts' elves don't know where Harry Potter spends the bulk of his time, then I will doubt you rank among the intelligent beings in our world." Snape let that settle in for a moment. "I strongly suggest you tell me the truth about these fairy cakes."
Come on, Draco, Harry almost said out loud as he sat there and watched the two standing wizards duel with words instead of spells.
Draco, it seemed, wasn't going down without a fight.
"Well maybe I had it wrong and they're not out to get Harry," the boy said, sweat beading on his brow. "But the elves are definitely up to no good... uh, you know, how you said you got those from the common room? Well really, Severus, if they're complaining about the whole House being so messy then why would they give us treats? I suppose they were trying to get Slytherin!" And then, switching to the offensive. "But since when do you just blindly trust random trays of food left lying about? I'm shocked at you, bringing home a thing like this!"
Snape narrowed his eyes as though he almost respected that last bit of strategy. "There's very little that I blindly trust, Draco. The elves, far from tainting food, are in fact testing all of it to be certain it's safe to eat."
Draco's expression hardened as though he knew then and there that he'd been found out. But still he soldiered on. "Well they're hardly going to test that plate of cakes if they're the ones who poisoned it, Severus."
"But I say they're not poisoned. Harry, go ahead and eat one--"
"Don't you dare, Harry!" screamed Draco, darting a hand into the pocket where he always kept his wand. Or Severus' spare wand, rather. He came up empty and muttered a particularly foul curse word.
"I'm not a Quaffle for the two of you to toss back and forth!" shouted Harry, thoroughly fed up with the pair of them.
"No, of course you're not," said Snape, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder.
Irritated beyond measure--and still more than a little nauseous--Harry shrugged it off. "Don't touch me, not after--- no."
"Look how you've upset your brother with all these nonsensical ramblings about tainted fairy cakes," Snape said, frowning. "Well, well. I suppose there's only one thing to do. Quite convenient having a potions laboratory... we'll just test these cakes, and then we'll know whether they're poisoned or not." He stared in challenge at Draco. "And if they are, well, you may rest assured I will find out exactly who has decided to endanger my students and my son!"
"Harry wasn't in any danger until you tried to stuff a poisoned cake past his teeth!" shouted Draco.
Stuff was a bit much, Harry thought. All Snape had done was cajole... though that had been bad enough.
"Well, let's just see if it's poisoned, shall we?"
Snape led the way into his private lab.
------------------------------------------------------
Harry couldn't imagine what testing for poison would prove, when all three of them knew perfectly well that the cakes were tainted, but he soon began to see what his father was up to.
The moment Snape pronounced the cakes poisoned with Venetimorica, he announced that the only responsible thing to do would be to brew the antidote, just in case any students had taken a cake to eat later.
"How can you tell it's Venetimorica?" asked Draco, shaking. "I thought poisons were a little bit harder to... uh, detect... And I didn't think there was an antidote--"
"Made a study of it, have you?"
"No, I just used to do a lot of reading before you charmed all the books shut!"
Snape gave Draco a rather nasty smile. "If you'd do your work I'd lift that spell. Now, for the antidote. The first thing we shall need is clover blossoms."
He opened the drawer where botanicals were normally kept, each in a vial charmed to keep it fresh, and raised an eyebrow. "How very interesting. I seem to be out of clover. Can you explain that, Draco?"
"No," snapped the boy.
"And I suppose it would be mere coincidence that I will certainly find myself missing considerable quantities of eel skin as well?"
"Am I to blame if you can't keep track of your stocks?"
"And powdered lignite?" pressed Snape, merciless. "And the sap of stunted hickory tree? And--"
"Shut up!" Draco screamed, his voice desperate.