Harry gulped and glanced at the other two. Remus, his arms folded across his chest, shook his head implacably. Sirius looked more apologetic but he shook his head too. Harry bit his lip. He was obviously not going to win this oneтАж but maybe he could manage at least one or two concessions.
"Okaaay," he said reluctantly. "But then I get to help, right?"
Snape gave him a long, considering look, while Harry did his best "puppy dog eyes". In the end, the Potions Master nodded once. "Very well," he said curtly, much to Harry's relief. That meant his professor wasn't really annoyed with him.
"So the question becomes how do we remove Harry from the dorm without that action in itself making Peter suspicious?" Remus asked.
A lively debate ensued, but in the end Remus came up with the best idea: Harry would do something so egregious and so public that all of Hogwarts would understand why he was being confined to his guardian's rooms as punishment.
Snape was less than pleased with the plan, as he felt it would set a dangerous precedent, but Sirius was predictably delighted at the thought of designing such a great prank. For the rest of the day, Sirius and Harry whispered and giggled at one end of the room, while Remus and Severus plotted at the other.
In the early evening, as Harry and Snape got ready to return to the school, the Slytherin demanded to know what Harry would do to ensure his removal from Gryffindor Tower.
"It's better if you're surprised," Sirius grinned. "Just act natural," he advised.
Before Snape could protest further, Harry тАУ the little traitor! тАУ activated the portkey, just as Albus had instructed.
"Well, well, did you have a good time?" Albus asked, as they reapeared in his office.
Snape was too busy trying to quell his nausea after the unexpected transportation to reply immediately, so Harry said, "Yes'r. May I please be excused?" and without waiting for an answer, he darted out of the office. By the time Snape was able to speak, the brat was long gone.
"Are you all right, my boy?" Albus' tone was very gentle.
"Fine," he answered shortly.
Albus felt sad. He could imagine what a trial the day had been for Snape, but it was obvious the intensely private man had no wish to speak of it. "It is nearly time for dinner, won't you accompany me?" he invited.
Snape wanted to get down to his dungeons and start putting the first step of their plan in place, but he recognized the resolute glint in Dumbledore's eye. The ancient wizard was determined to comfort him, no matter what. With an inaudible sigh, he decided it was better to get it over with quickly, and he nodded his acquiescence.
TBCтАж
*Chapter 35*: Chapter 35
Forty minutes later, he was cursing himself. Not because of the steady stream of meaningless prattle that Albus obviously considered soothing, but because they had already been in the Great Hall for twenty minutes and there was no sign of the brat, though the rest of the student body had long since assembled.
What had he been thinking? The little fiend was a Gryffindor, and one who was already puffed up with his own abilities, having survived encounters with both a troll and the Dark Lord. Why had he ever imagined that the brat would do as he was told? Doubtless he had made a beeline for the Weasley boy's rat and had either hexed to death an inoffensive animal or been brutally murdered by the wizard who had betrayed his parents.
Sitting here was madness. He got to his feet to run to the Gryffindor tower.
Meanwhile, at one of the student tables, Ron, Draco, and Hermione were deep in a discussion of a recent Cannons match. To the boys' irritation (and the girl's glee), Hermione's post-troll punishment had ensured that she was now able to jump in and correct their statistics quotations. "I'm just saying, Ronald, that the fact that the Cannons haven't successfully caught the snitch in their last eighty-seven games indicates that their Seeker isn't particularly talented!" she argued.
"It's only been eighty-three games, 'Mione!" Ron argued with all the fervor of someone who knows that (a) he is wrong and (b) his point is moot anyway.
"Oh, like that makes such a difference," Draco rolled his eyes. "Why do you keep insisting that this is their year, Weasley? They haven't тАУ hey, look! There's a snitch loose in the Hall!" He pointed, and the others followed his gaze.
"Yeah!" Ron yelped. "What's a snitch doin' in here?"
Their shouts quickly caught the attention of both students and staff, but before anyone could move, Harry shot into the HallтАж on his broom.
Harry flew in hot pursuit of the snitch, seemingly oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking in the process. He overturned serving dishes with his low dives, came close to braining himself on more than one sharp turn, ricocheted off the ceiling at one point, and lost several bristles when he scraped along the far wall for a heart-stopping four seconds.
In the meantime, the students screamed and cheered and dove for cover as he zipped over and among the tables after the little golden ball. The house elves popped in to try to remonstrate, but after one was nearly run over (flown over?) by Harry, they decided to retreat to the kitchens. Several staff, Snape among them, tried to catch the boy with a spell, but he dodged the magic as effectively as the more physical obstacles.
It was an electrifying four minutes until Harry's hand closed around the Snitch, and everyone gave a sigh of relief as he landed safely in the aisle between the staff and student tables. Harry grinned at the students and proudly waved the snitch, prompting a howl of approval. (It should be noted that Hermione sat, frowning, throughout this accolade.)
The cheers broke off abruptly as Snape, pale with fury, rose to his feet. Noting that every eye was suddenly on something behind him, Harry felt rather like a character in a Muggle horror movie. He turned around slowly and flinched at the expression on his guardian's countenance. As the rest of the school watched breathlessly, Snape advanced on the small boy, who suddenly seemed much smaller by contrast. Afterwards, staff and students alike agreed they had never before seen Snape so enraged.
As soon as he was within reach of the brat, Snape grabbed him by the arm, spun him around and landed a resounding slap on Harry's backside that made the entire Hall wince in sympathy.
To his intense humiliation, Harry couldn't restrain a loud yelp at the sting that blossomed across his bum. That had been a real whack!
"Just what were you thinking?" Snape's hiss carried throughout the enormous room, and his tone alone caused several first years to whimper and cower. Most of those watching were convinced that Harry's encounter with Quirrell/Voldemort could not have been nearly as terrifying as his current confrontation with the maddened Potions Master.
"I'm sorry," Harry gulped, "but it was a dare. I had to do it. It was a matter of honor!"
"WHO DARED YOU?" At Snape's bellow, the entire student body paled.
"I тАУ I can't say," Harry managed to choke out. Even knowing that his professor was aware that this was all an act, he was still scared witless.
"Oh, you will, Mr Potter. That I promise you." Snape's silky threat made several тАУ entirely innocent тАУ children start crying, and when his malevolent gaze swept the student tables, the Hall went deathly still.
Internally Snape smirked as he watched several likely suspects tremble and shake their heads in a desperate attempt to assure him of their innocence. The Weasleys, Wood, Flint, and Draco seemed particularly petrified that he would assume they were the guilty parties, and he made sure to glower at them in particular. I've still got it, he thought smugly, watching the entire student body тАУ except for the brat still squirming in his grip тАУ quake before him.