"So Sals is okay, then?"
"Yes. If you want Lupin to bring her when he comes, though, I'd recommend they take the Express. Sals might react very badly to going through the Floo, or Apparating." Harry heard his teacher wiping his hands on something. "Can you do your own salve below the waist? Just smear it everywhere. It'll be a bit messy, but I think you can manage."
"I can. At least you'll let me, unlike that-- witch, who clutches me like I'm a lifeline or something, every time I have to go to the bloody loo! I told her I could make it across the room by myself, but nooooo..." Harry abruptly remembered that he had bigger fish to fry than his gripes against Madame Pomfrey. "Will you please tell Malfoy there to leave me in peace, Professor?"
"We'll wait outside while you do your salve, then come back to do the Elixir," Snape announced.
"Come back alone," Harry shouted after them.
"He's really disrespectful towards you, sir," Harry heard Draco remarking as they walked away. "You'd have given him detention for life if he'd ever said half those things in class."
What he couldn't hear, however, was Snape's response.
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"I don't want Malfoy here," Harry gritted, rearing back when his teacher's fingers brushed his face.
Draco gave a long-suffering sigh. "I didn't do this to you, Potter. Can you get that through your skull? And I'm not enjoying seeing you this way, if that was the next idiotic claim going to come out of your mouth."
Harry ignored him. "Why are you insisting Malfoy hang about like this?" he demanded.
Snape's tone was short. "For approximately the same reason the headmaster kept flinging you and me together. Now, tilt your head back."
Harry did, fuming. He forgot his outrage the instant Snape's fingers pried one of his eyelids open. It was like the previous night, only worse, the pressure fierce like on Samhain. Unable to control his own reflexes, Harry screamed, his back convulsing.
Snape sat back and thought for a moment. "Were you trying to let me put the drops in?"
"Yes, I was bloody well trying! Just let me do it myself, like with the salve!"
"This is more important than the salve. The whole surface of your eye must be coated before you blink and introduce tears into the mixture. What do you want to do?"
Harry didn't see much option. He thought he could endure it, just barely, if Snape held him down for the drops to be put in, though it would no doubt be creepy in the extreme. "You'd better um... hold me down to get them in. Ugh, I think you know how, at least."
"Are you sure that's a wise course of action, Harry?"
"Well, just do it fast," Harry grumbled. "I can take it, all right? I might scream bloody murder, but it's not like I'm going to um... mean it, really. It's just reflex."
Snape shifted a hair closer. "Considering the reflex I just observed, I think I'll need both hands merely to hold you still."
"Yeah," Harry thickly groaned, the parallels haunting him. "Okay, well, I guess Madame Pomfrey can apply the drops, then. Just tell her first not to be so mamby-pamby about it."
Malfoy went to get her, but reported back, "She's stepped out. Shall I go look for her?"
"No," Snape decreed. "You can put the drops in, Draco. I'll watch to be sure you do so correctly."
"Just hold it," Harry exclaimed. "He's not getting near my eyes when it's his father who--"
"I'm not my fucking father!" Draco screamed.
"As I recall," Snape growled, "you didn't like it too well when your father's faults were continuously attributed to you, either, did you Harry? I think we all know who did this to you; you needn't harp on it any more, is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Harry muttered resentfully, not wanting to think about the fact that Snape just might have a point.
"Now, will you let Draco help you?" Snape's tone lost its mocking edge. "He does want to help, Harry. I told you that. You really should believe me."
"Why does he want to help? That's the part I don't get."
"He happens to be standing right here!" Draco interrupted, reminding Harry of... well, himself, actually. "And I want to help because what my father did to you was sick and cruel. If that's not a good enough reason to suit you, Potter, then you can just fuck off!"
"Well, that convinces me," Harry sniped, but then he gave up. Truth to tell, he wanted the stupid Elixir over and done with, and with Snape right there, there wasn't much Malfoy could do to sabotage the treatment, was there? Not that he believed Malfoy's protests about sick and cruel just turning his stomach. Not too likely, Harry reminded himself. This was the same boy who'd tried his level best to engineer a horrible death for Buckbeak, after all. Sick and cruel was just the name of the game, to Malfoys. All Malfoys.
Yeah... Malfoy might have snowed Snape, but as far as Harry was concerned, his story just didn't add up.
And Harry's instincts were usually good. Even Snape had said so.
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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other:
Chapter Thirty-One: A Letter to Surrey
Comments very welcome,
Aspen in the Sunlight
Chapter 31: A Letter to Surrey
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=5036&chapter=31
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A Year Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter Thirty-One: A Letter to Surrey
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"Well, that was certainly great fun," Harry said when it was all over. "Nothing like being drenched in sweat from head to toe as a pair of Slytherins hold me down and pour sticky goo all over my eyeballs."
"If you want a freshening charm, you should just ask for one," Draco pointed out.
"I wouldn't ask you for the time of day--"
"Too late!"
Harry felt a surge of supercooled air rushing all around him, tickling even inside his ears, before it was over. As it whooshed through the flannel of his pajamas, though, it sucked out every bit of moisture and odor. Really, it was quite a nice charm, far better than the ones Harry knew, but that didn't make it right.
Before he could so much as protest, Snape was snapping, "That's quite enough, you two. We have more important concerns than petty rivalries! Harry, blink a few times. Lumos."
The world slowly swam into view. "Oh, wow, how absolutely wild..." Harry breathed. "It's almost like... er..."
"What, Harry?" Snape pressed. "What do you see?"
Harry hesitated, then admitted, "Well, I can see more than before, but I can't see it very well. Everything's fuzzy, but not quite like I need my glasses, I don't think. More like colors are sort of swirly, like there's a halo of light around every object. And things are, I don't know, almost vibrating..."
"It's like he's high on Muggle drugs," Draco supplied. "Trust me; that is what he was going to say."
"Oh, Harry," Snape sounded a bit amused, but the tone was overlaid with worry. "That's really not wise. Especially for you, after what recently happened. But ah... we'll talk about it later."