Standing Against the Tides

Last time I looked at my driver’s license, it did not say J. K. Rowling. Yep, it’s just me, an unpaid and unknown aspiring writer. The characters of the Potterverse do not belong to me and I am making no money from this endeavor.

A/N: Spoilers through OotP. As I am still in denial, I refuse to acknowledge the events of HBP or DH at this point.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is busy with her own life.


Chapter 5 Comparing Notes

Severus glared at the arrogant, prying student. What right did the young whelp have asking such a thing? And why was Potter in here anyway? Visibly stiffening, the Potions master sneered, “That is not your concern, Potter. Now I must insist that you mind your own business and leave me alone.”

Sighing, Harry could see that this would not be easy. But he had begun to figure some things out and he was nothing if not determined. Sitting down, Harry looked carefully at his professor before answering, “Sir, I don’t mean to be forward, but I can’t ignore the state I found you in. I did as you asked and brought you directly to your chambers so no one else knows what happened to you. But there are some things that have been bothering me lately and I have the feeling you are the only one who can help me. So please, sir, give me a chance to earn your trust. I will guard your secret if that is what you wish, but don’t ask me to just forget that you have been severely injured.”

Severus Snape silently regarded the brash young man for a moment. Try as he might, he could not deny that the Potter brat had helped him and Severus truly did believe that Potter would keep quiet as he had said he would. Sighing, the older man realized that he did indeed need a compatriot and his experience had shown that this Potter was nothing if not loyal and honorable.

Easing his still sore and battered body up carefully in the bed, Severus was surprised when a pair of strong arms helped situate him better. Locking gazes with the young Gryffindor, Severus made up his mind. “All right, Potter. It would seem as if I am in need of assistance and since you insist on being such a bloody noble Gryffindor, I suppose I shall have to trust you.”

Harry decided that if they were going to talk that a bit of sustenance would be a good idea. Softly he called, “Dobby.” The oddly dressed creature popped into the room and immediately turned to Harry.

“Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is happy to be seeing you,” he said, bowing so that the pile of knitted hats on his head threatened to topple over. “What may Dobby do for you, Harry Potter, sir?”

“Dobby, could you bring some porridge, toast and juice for Professor Snape and myself?” Harry asked politely.

Smiling broadly, Dobby nodded enthusiastically before leaving with a loud popping sound.

Shaking his head in bemused bewilderment, Harry turned to his professor. “I thought it might be a good idea for us to eat a bit before we talk.”

The Potions master closed his eyes as he resigned himself to having to speak with the young man who regrettably had probably saved him. Damn, but he hated being in debt to anyone else. In his experience, nothing good ever came from that.

The strange house-elf popped back into the room with a tray that was overflowing with food and drink. Harry smiled and thanked the creature, deliberately ignoring the fact that the two men could never eat so much food.

Just as the exuberant being prepared to leave once more, Harry thought to ask, “Dobby, do you know if Professor Dumbledore has been asking after Professor Snape or myself?”

Dobby wrung his hands in agitation. “Oh, no, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is not hearing anything about that.” The house-elf looked at the older man nervously before looking back at his favorite wizard.

Harry, understanding the house-elf’s reticence, nodded reassuringly. “What’s been going on that is upsetting you, Dobby? Is it something to do with the Headmaster?”

“Oh, Dobby is not supposed to say, but we house elves are worried about the Headmaster, Harry Potter, sir. We is noticing that he has been acting strangely lately. And, and the castle is unhappy. It is groaning and grumbling much.”

Frowning, Harry asked, “What do you mean about the castle, Dobby?”

“We is thinking that the castle is unhappy with the Headmaster. That is why it complains. Dumbledore is upsetting the castle with his plans and plots. He is hurting…” Dobby trailed off in obvious distress.

Harry knelt down next to the diminutive creature. “What or who is he hurting, Dobby? Please tell me.”

Large luminous eyes turned toward the young man who had saved him from his previous employers. In truth, Dobby would do anything for Harry Potter, even if it meant going against his current employer. The house-elf felt a bit lost, as he could not even properly punish himself since Harry Potter had long ago forbidden him to harm himself. Making up his mind, Dobby continued, “The Headmaster is hurting Professor Snape and Harry Potter, sir.”

Sharing a confused glance with the Potions master, Harry urged the house-elf to explain, “Please, Dobby. How is he hurting us?”

“Oh, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is hearing Dumbledore talking to himself one day. He was saying how he made you hate each other and how he had to make sure he kept you apart.” Wringing his long, spindly hands, Dobby hung his head in shame. He knew that if it came down to it, he would side with Harry Potter over the Headmaster, but it still went against his nature to betray secrets.

“Dobby, it is okay. Let me talk with Professor Snape for a while and we will try to figure things out. In the meantime go about your regular routine and keep your eyes and ears open. Just make sure that no one catches you and don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay?” Harry placed a comforting hand on the small, bony shoulder.

Nodding and smiling sadly, Dobby surged forward and hugged his friend. Harry awkwardly hugged the emotional creature before pulling back. He watched as the house-elf popped out of the room and he turned to the Potions master. “Well,” he sighed. “That certainly adds to the mess, doesn’t it?”

Shaking his head, Harry decided they should eat first and then try to figure things out. He prepared a bowl for the older man and made sure his professor was comfortable to eat before turning to his own breakfast. Harry was still somewhat shocked that he had slept the entire night in his professor’s chambers, but considering the stresses of the previous evening, he supposed it made sense. But Harry made a mental note to never sleep all night in a chair again as it was definitely hard on the body.

The two ate in silence, although Harry got up a couple of times to get the Potions master a glass of juice and then a cup of the tea that Dobby had thoughtfully supplied. Pouring his own cup and flavoring it to suit, Harry sat back down and quietly observed his companion. Snape was still too pale and while the bruises and cuts were definitely fading, it was still possible to see where he had been hexed and struck. Harry was pleased to see that the man’s hands were steady, so that meant that nerve damage was minimal and he would undoubtedly be back to his normal, unpleasant, snarky self in no time.

Accepting that they needed to talk, Harry began again, “Sir, I don’t wish to pry, but I need to know. Has this happened before?”

Sighing, Severus found himself wishing he could be doing almost anything other than having this conversation with Harry Potter of all people. But somewhere inside, he felt the need to open up and be honest with this strangely compelling young man. A young man whom he had always hated, he thought bitterly. But wait; why did he hate him? Because Albus told him he did? But that annoying creature said that he heard the old man saying he had made Harry and him hate one another? Quickly deciding that this line of thinking was only going to bring on a migraine, Severus pulled himself out of his spiraling thoughts.

Dark eyes looked over at the young man in an effort to gauge his sincerity. Finding no obvious duplicity, Severus finally acquiesced. “Yes,” he reluctantly answered. “Quite often in fact. And yes, Albus knows that this happens, but we have always felt as though the information I could gather was worth it.”

“You decided this, or did the Headmaster decide this?” Harry angrily asked. He was beginning to form a picture and there was going to be hell to pay if he was right.

Severus opened his mouth to speak, but then realized that he truly didn’t know the answer to that. Suddenly things that had made sense for so long were beginning to look wrong and the logical man found that he didn’t know what to make of all this.

“Sir, Dobby said that he heard the Headmaster talking to himself, saying that he was deliberately keeping us apart. If that is true, then our hatred of each other has all just been the result of manipulation. I don’t know about you, but whenever I am called to a tea with the Headmaster I come away feeling a bit odd. And you have those teas with him too?” Seeing a nod in answer, Harry continued following this disturbing thread, “Then it is entirely possible that he has been doing something to the both of us, in order to promote and reinforce our negative feelings?”

Frustrated, Harry stood and began pacing. Running a distracted hand through his already tousled hair, he muttered, “So, maybe there is no real reason for us to hate one another. Gaa! I suspected that he was a sly and manipulative old man, but this is too much!”

Severus wearily pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off yet another headache. “Potter,” he barked, “sit down.” Waiting impatiently for the young man to comply, the Potions master thought for a moment before responding. “It would be entirely possible for him to use a potion on both of us and then ‘suggest’ certain things that would then be taken as fact by those affected by the potion. I can think of several that would have the required effect, but I know that he has not gotten any of those potions from me. I too have experienced a slight disorientation during those visits but I had always put it down to the irritating company and the incessant noise from those infernal contraptions the Headmaster is so fond of. If this is indeed the case, then we must ascertain what he has done and why.”

Furrowing his brows in concentration, Harry thought over everything Dumbledore had ever said to him about Snape and what Harry’s feelings were regarding the man. “He has always told me that you despise me because of my father. In fact, he is careful to stress just how much you hate me every time we speak. And though he expresses concern that we don’t like each other, he has never really done anything to help the situation, has he?”

Emerald eyes met obsidian as both men pondered what they had been told and what they thought they had known. Slowly, Severus came to the conclusion that his feelings regarding the young man before him might have indeed been manipulated, and if that was the case, then he would have to completely reevaluate his thoughts and feelings towards Harry Potter. As he thought this, a small bud of an idea nudged at his mind, but when he tried to explore it, the thought retreated from his grasp. Sighing, Severus decided to put that aside for the moment, in favor of truly being able to understand this young man and then why Albus would have wanted him to hate Potter in the first place.

Harry took this opportunity to pour them both another cup of hot tea from the charmed teapot. He settled back down in the armchair, deciding he might as well be comfortable for what looked to be a long discussion.