Bound by Blood (and Faith)

Chapter 4

Several hours later...

Harry put his quill down and looked over his parchment. He smiled to himself, proud of his efforts. He'd have Hermione check it over and make sure that everything made sense, but this was the first time in the history of time that his Potions homework was finished days in advance of the due date. Snape was still sleeping, and Madame Pomfrey had checked in on him nearly half an hour ago. She had seemed pleased with his progress. Most of the bad injuries had knitted themselves back together, so that now, all that was left was the healing of the burns and bruises. The fact that Snape was going to be okay relieved Harry. He still wondered what in the hell had gone wrong with that potion, but at least he knew that everything was going to be okay.

Bored, but not enough so to work on his History of Magic paper, Harry flipped toward the back of the book to look up scrying potions. He wasn't so naive as to think that his text book held every potion currently in popular use, but just maybe, he could find something about exploding scrying potions.

He wasn't sure at what point he fell asleep, but the next thing Harry knew, Dumbledore was shaking him gently awake. “Harry, my boy, wake up.”

Harry grumbled but pushed himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his face. He looked around, taking a moment to get his bearings before looking up at Dumbledore. “What's going on, Professor?”

Dumbledore didn't answer, instead, he picked up the still-open text book from where it had fallen, still showing the page discussing explosive scrying potions. He looked up at Harry, curiosity written clearly on his face. “A little light reading, Harry?”

“I was just.. Professor Snape said that he was working on a scrying potion when it exploded on him and that's how he got hurt. I was curious about what sort of scrying potion explodes, so I looked it up,” Harry replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. Dumbledore put the book down and nodded like he agreed. He looked at Snape, who was sitting up, finishing his dinner. The two adults exchanged a look that Harry had a difficult time interpreting.

“The sort of scrying potion that explodes is the same sort that has been blocked by very powerful confundus charms. Whoever blocked my scrying did not want me finding out who they were,” Snape said after a very pregnant pause. Harry stared at him, clearly not following the line of thought. Dumbledore opened his mouth, but Snape waved him back into silence. “What I am trying to say, Mr. Potter, is that the effects that I experienced, including my mention of your name, suggest that you had something to do with what I was scrying for. Now, can you shed any more light on the situation?”

Harry's eyes went wide. Snape thought that he had something to do with the explosion. He shook his head mutely, heart pounding loudly in his chest. He was surprised that the two Professors couldn't hear it.

“Of course, a booby trap could have been set up to cast a blasting curse if anyone attempted to scry for the answer to my question. If that was the case, someone was very clumsy. There wouldn't be much of an inquest if I had been killed,” Snape suggested cooly. Harry's heart nearly stopped. Now he was being accused of attempted murder?

“I doubt that anyone here would try to kill you, Severus,” Dumbledore protested.

“I would prefer to hear any denials from Mr. Potter, should he choose to offer them,” Snape replied. His tone was becoming more and more glacial and Harry felt his heart wrench. “As you are aware, Albus, Mr. Potter and I had a bit of an altercation a few nights ago.”

“I would never have tried to kill you, Professor Snape. I didn't try to confound any scrying attempts, I don't even know what you'd be scrying for. And I only just came back to the school after Hermione told me about the accident. I was at home. Why would I have come back if I had had something to do with it?” Harry's voice was strangled and thick with emotion. He got off the bed and started shoving his things back into his bag with an anger he didn't feel. It was incredible to him that his hands weren't shaking. Once he had all of his books gathered, he turned his back on Snape and headed for the door. He didn't want him to see the tears that threatened to spill over. The two Professors watched him leave without a word. The second the door swung closed behind him, Harry took off at a sprint for the dungeons. If he was accused of doing something, then he wanted to see what it was.

He rounded the final corner and nearly ran right into Professor McGonagall. She held up her hand and, in her normal stern voice, “No running in the hallways, Mr. Potter.”

“Sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to... excuse me, please,” Harry apologized and started to edge around her.

“Where are you going, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall asked pointedly.

“I-” Harry broke off with a sigh. “I need to go see where you found Professor Snape.”

Professor McGonagall was instantly on her guard. An arched eyebrow disappeared into her hairline. “Now, why do you feel that you must go down there? You shouldn't even be out without a group or a teacher escort.”

“Will you please escort me to where ever you found Professor Snape? He just asked me if I tried to kill him, and I'd like to see for myself why he thinks that was what happened. For the record, I didn't do it,” Harry asked, getting impatient. Professor McGonagall looked at him for a long moment before she sighed and nodded.

“Very well, Mr. Potter, but you are not to touch or disturb in any way anything you find there. We have been asked to leave it unaltered for the Ministry inspector who will be here shortly. After you look, you must go directly upstairs to the common room and stay there until breakfast. And I will ask you not to discuss this with any of your classmates, do you understand?” she responded. Harry nodded, grateful that he wouldn't have to try to sneak out of the common room tonight. Satisfied, Professor McGonagall turned and lead Harry back to Snape's office.

She opened the door and gave Harry a look as if to say 'remember what I said.' He nodded and carefully pocketed his hands before he walked into the room that now resembled a war zone. Harry's heart tried to stop yet again when he saw the bloody outline on the floor where Snape had lain until he had been found. Cauldron fragments and potion ingredients had been sprayed out from where Snape normally cooked his potions. Forgetting himself for a moment, Harry reached for a cauldron piece that had a chunk of Snape's scalp attached to it. Long before his hand touched the metal, his chest felt as if it had just been lit on fire. He jerked his hand back and grabbed at his chest, struggling to breathe. The pain was familiar, it was radiating from the same place as it had when he had been tortured in the forest. The memory of the honey-sweet voice telling him how to make the pain stop echoed in his ears and he found himself falling to his knees.

Professor McGonagall was there to catch him, bearing him up just before his robes disturbed a puddle of mostly congealed potion. She was talking to him frantically, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. She half-lifted him and helped him stagger out of the room. The farther away he got from the confounded potion, the clearer his head became, but the pain in his chest refused to let up. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he clenched his jaw against any outcry, just in case the man who had cursed him could somehow hear it. He refused to give him the satisfaction. Dimly, his mind registered that McGonagall was shouting, but he still couldn't focus on what she was saying. Harry faded in and out of awareness until finally, he lost consciousness all together.