Worthy

*~ Disclaimer ~* I do not own any of the characters, language, plots, or locations from Harry Potter.
J. K. Rowling, the writer, holds all rights to Harry Potter and this story is only created for pleasure, not profit.

Summary: Death, battle, pain, facing your fears, saving the world… the Wizarding World expected the Boy-Who-Lived to endure it all. But what if he can’t? Who will be there to save the boy-who-only-wanted-to-be-normal? … Post-HBP, Pre-DH

Author’s Note: Not much to say. Please enjoy.


Worthy
Chapter Eight

“Master Snape? … Master Snape? …”

Snape mumbled something to the effect of telling the voice near him to shut up. He was still half-asleep and his dream was a nice one; rare for someone of his circumstances.

“Please, Master Snape, someone is here to speak with you.”

Snape grunted, slowly coming back towards reality. His head was propped in his arms and he was sitting at the makeshift potions lab near the beds. He had been experimenting a bit with replicating the potion that Potter had described to him, unsuccessfully. The only interesting effect that he was able to procure was a potion that tickled the skin when dribbled over in large amounts. Concentration was obviously a large factor, provided he was on the right track…

“Master Snape!”

Snape looked over at Dot, taking the final leap from sleep to consciousness. He gave an inward sigh. He always slept so much better in his own home, and after so many months away it was a relief to finally be back. He cursed whoever had arrived from depriving him of his sleep and peaceful dreams.

“Who has arrived, Dot?” he asked gruffly.

“Mister Lupin, Master Snape,” Dot replied with a short curtsy.

Growling a bit, Snape asked, “Where is he now?”

“Mister Lupin is waiting in the main entrance, Master Snape.”

“Very well.” Snape leaned back, feeling his spine crack in a number of uncomfortable ways. Sleeping at the table was certainly not one of his better ideas. Glancing at the bed, Snape realized that Lupin would have to come here rather than him going out to meet the werewolf. The mangy wolf would probably be pleased. “Dot, please bring the– Lupin to the hallway here. He will want to see how Potter is doing anyway.”

Dot nodded and disappeared while Snape rubbed his eyes, feeling the approach of a headache. He glanced at the bed once more. Potter still appeared to be sleeping, though now that he was aware of the prolonged illness from the experimental potion, Snape could understand how much time would be necessary for the young wizard to recuperate. Hopefully, he would be able to find out about the potion, cure Potter, and have him well on his way out of here all the sooner.

He stood up in a stretch, and pausing for a moment, Snape wondered whether Lupin had already found an alternate solution. The earlier they were able to break the bond, the less Snape would have to worry about the strength of the bond itself. He had been trying not to think about it, while also hoping that time would not affect it when the topic did cross his mind.

After a short while, Snape could hear Dot leading Lupin down the hall towards the door. With some caution, Snape approached the door, mindful of the pressure it created on the bond but unwilling to let Lupin directly enter his room. He made it to the door with some difficulty and managed his breathing. Snape could hear Dot approaching, so he opened the door and stepped out, mindful of leaving the door partially open.

The werewolf looked rather worse for wear. Snape suddenly recalled that it was the morning after the full moon. He was surprised that Lupin had made the trip at all, considering how he must be aching after his latest transformation. This information did not strain his sympathies, however, but only made Snape more alert to any possible threat from the wolf. With the full moon still so close, the werewolf’s instincts weren’t so far away.

Without bothering with any pretense at pleasantries, Snape asked, “Any news?”

Lupin roughly shook his head. “I’m here to see Harry,” he said, equally blunt.

“Potter is sleeping,” Snape dead-panned. “And you are not in any condition to be visiting anyway.”

Snape expected a growl with the harsh look that the werewolf sent his way, but Lupin only said, “I need to see Harry, now.”

“But he doesn’t need to see you,” Snape bit out. He opened the door a little more and gestured toward the bed. “Potter is fine. Come back when you have news.”

“Severus…”

“Remus?” Both wizards were startled to hear the voice from the bed. They looked over to see Potter sit up and look towards the door. “Remus! Are you alright?”

With a triumphant look, Lupin pushed past a scowling Snape and rushed towards the bed. “Harry! It’s good to see you awake.” He moved to the side of the bed and sat down, right at home. Still scowling, Snape stepped back into the room with Dot at his heels.

Potter was looking at Lupin worriedly. He seemed to disapprove of Lupin’s decision to visit in his condition but spoke nothing of it. He only asked, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, now,” Lupin reassured. He reached over and grasped Potter’s arm. “It’s good to see you’re alright. I thought that, after the bonding…”

“I’m fine, Remus,” Harry insisted.

“As I told you before,” Snape spat out. “Now have you anything else to say before you leave?”

The werewolf shot Snape a cold look. “Perhaps you are unfamiliar, Severus, but to some it is necessary to see those they care for to be certain that they are safe.”

Snape was about to retort, but he was surprised when Potter intervened. “Remus, please! Professor Snape has been more than helpful in taking care of my safety. I owe him a lot, Remus,” Potter implored, “Please respect that this is his home.”

Lupin heaved a sigh and made a visible effort to control himself. Snape could almost see the werewolf shaking down his hackles. Lupin nodded at Potter and gave him a rather pleading look for understanding. “I am allowed to worry, aren’t I?”

Potter smiled, “Of anyone, I can understand the concern from you.” Snape couldn’t tell for sure, but there was something odd about Potter’s smile. It was more ambiguous than understanding, and Snape hated to see ulterior motives other than his own. Apart from that, Snape generally disliked the closeness between the two. Had circumstances allowed, he would have left as quickly as possible; however, when forced to attend the meeting, Snape found the whole character of it unsettling. Perhaps Potter noticed his discomfort, for he glanced over to the door.

“You should go get some rest, Remus. I expect to see you better next time you visit,” Potter chided.

The werewolf’s grip on Potter’s arm tightened, and Snape stiffened in reflex. Lupin, however, only moved forward to envelop Potter in a hug, and Snape turned away with a snort. It was out of the corner of his eye, however, that Snape was disturbed to see Lupin sniff at Potter with distaste.

“You smell like him,” Lupin grumbled with dissatisfaction.

Potter stiffened, but he replied evenly, “Well that’s to be expected, isn’t it? We are bonded.”

Lupin pulled away and stood up. With a glance at Snape, he told Potter, “I’ll look for an alternative as soon as possible. And if nothing comes up…” he paused. “We’ll see if we can transfer the bond to me when you’re feeling stronger.” Potter was about to say something when Lupin turned and brushed by Snape and out of the room.

Snape gave a nod to the silent Dot, who nodded and followed the werewolf out. Raising an eyebrow at Potter, Snape turned an inquiring look on the young wizard. He was irked to find Potter ignoring his gaze in favor of staring down and fiddling with the quilt. Not to be deterred by the other wizard, Snape asked, “Why is Lupin so determined to be a part of a bond that will not succeed?”

“There’s no proof that it wouldn’t work,” Potter said, evasively.

“Reason should be enough to discourage it,” Snape disagreed. “For someone so concerned for your safety, he’s very willing to risk both of your lives.”

Potter was silent for a moment before replying, “Remus is very protective, that’s all. He thinks that I hate this… arrangement.”

“Do you not?” Snape asked. After a moment, he decided he didn’t care… or just didn’t want to know the answer, and he continued, “What are you hiding, Potter?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

Looking closely at the young wizard, Snape assessed this response. “You’re lying. I need to know anything that might put our souls at risk.”

“Nothing will,” Potter insisted, and Snape could see his hands clenching the quilt. “It’s just history, professor.” He saw Snape about to protest and continued, “If it becomes an issue, I’ll tell you, sir, but not before.”

Getting frustrated, Snape pulled out his wand. “Legimens!” he snapped. He caught a brief glimpse of something, somewhere dark and cold, before he was pushed out.

“I told you I’ve learned Occlumency, professor,” Potter said, wryly. “Please just trust me when I say it’s not important.”

“Considering your record with such things, I am not reassured,” Snape returned in a similar fashion. Dot popped back in and looked between the two wizards, both with irritated looks on their faces. Scowling, Snape turned away from Potter, “Be it on your head, then!” Facing Dot, he nodded for her to speak.

“Mister Lupin has left the manor, Master Snape,” Dot squeaked out, unnerved by the look on Snape’s face.

“Very good, Dot,” Snape said. “That will be all for now.” And with a curtsy, Dot disappeared quickly.

The silence crackled through the room. Snape busied himself with his potion experiments, all the while aware of Potter tossing and turning on the bed. It seemed that sleep was eluding the young wizard and Snape felt a surge of satisfaction. If the brat was going to make trouble for them, then he should suffer the consequences of his silence. The bond seemed to prickle with the tension, but Snape resolutely ignored it. He would not bend to a little discomfort when it was deliberately caused.

He was just contemplating the concentration of the sycamore root when he felt the bond shift. Brought out of his thoughts, Snape glared over toward the bed where he saw Potter getting up. Green eyes flickered over him before focusing on the makeshift lab. Potter tread across the room to stand across from Snape, looking carefully at the newest form of Snape’s creation.

“Did you need something, Potter?” Snape bit out, feeling rather that his space had been intruded. The brat was already occupying his rooms, now he was stepping into his potions area?

Potter, perfectly calm, replied, “I thought I might be able to determine properties more specifically if I could see the similar materials.” Gesturing towards the new sample, he asked, “May I?”

“Help yourself.” Snape almost managed to make his sarcasm unnoticeable.

With a ghost of a smile, Potter lifted the bottle and peered at its contents. He swirled the liquid a bit and used his hand to waft a little of the fumes to his nose to smell it. Wrinkling his nose, Potter lay the bottle back on the table. Tapping his finger on the table, Potter said, “The consistency still seems a little thin. When I had it, the potion was thinned out by tea, I think it was, and it was still thicker than this. And it wasn’t quite as… pungent as this one. The color looks about right, though.”

Watching Potter, Snape felt some of his ire melt away to be replaced by confusion. This young wizard… was completely different than the one he was acquainted with at Hogwarts. Potter handled the potion and the analysis with the confidence and care of his serious students. Thinking over Potter’s comments, Snape found himself falling into the experiment once more.

“Increasing the amount of sycamore root would thicken the solution,” Snape arranged the components around the sample. “However, that would also darken the color to a deep brown, which would not be consistent with the potion you ingested.” Pacing in front of the table, Snape’s eyebrows drew together in thought. “You said that it was mixed with tea?”

Potter nodded, “I’m eighty percent sure. It was too weak to overpower the flavor of the potion, but strong enough to be noticeable from pure, warm water.”

“Then the tea leaves do not interact with the potion itself,” Snape mused. Frowning, he looked back at the sycamore. “However, the sycamore would definitely react with the tea. But to take it out would also drastically change the color of the potion…” He hummed at the ingredients, mind trying to work around the matter.

“Perhaps,” Potter began with some hesitation. “If we used sycamore seeds…”

Snape gruffly gestured in the negative. “Sycamore seeds have never held any useful properties.”

“Not as they are,” Potter agreed. “But what if you ground them into the roots and concentrated it in the potion?”

Snape paused, halted once more at Potter’s participation. It was an innovative thought, to be sure, but coming from Potter just… Would it work? The seeds might be enough to counteract the reaction with the tea… how would it change the concentration? Snape contemplated the possibilities for a moment. Glancing at Potter, he briefly marveled at the patience that he never thought the Gryffindor could have. “Potter. Chop the sycamore root to a fine powder and separate it into three equal piles,” Snape commanded. He moved to sit at the end of the table and sorted through the ingredients and some of his other potions to find out which combination would potentially help.

Browsing through some of his purifying potions, Snape watched Potter get to work without a word. A part of him recognized the absurdity of a Potter helping him with a potion. Another part of him was simply shocked at his own allowance to the situation. Had circumstances been different, there was no way that he would even allow Potter near one of his experiments, and now… Things had changed. This new Potter, Snape had to admit that he knew nothing about this Potter. There were similarities, but everything that had defined Potter before his active participation in the War was now gone. He had a whole new person to understand now. Snape swallowed that bitter pill and looked over to see Potter’s progress.

Potter was nearly done. There was only a couple inches of sycamore root left to chop and the powder just needed to be sorted into piles. Arranging three stations with different mixtures of ingredients, Snape waited for Potter to finish. In a few minutes, Potter had completed chopping and was measuring the root powder into three dishes. Moving over and glancing into the dishes, Snape could see that the powder was fine enough to use. He gathered the sycamore seeds and distributed them between the stations.

“Here,” Snape pointed at the set of ingredients in front of Potter. “Grind the seeds completely into the powder. Then add it to the potions’ base,” he nodded toward a small, magically simmering cauldron. “Let it simmer for fifteen minutes and then add two drops from that beaker. Take it off the heat and cover it.”

“Yes, professor,” Potter replied and Snape had a momentary flashback to his dungeon at Hogwarts. He was surprised to find that it still held some nostalgia for him. He shook it off and moved to the other two stations. Potter was taking care of the control group, so Snape would be working with the purity of the compound and changing one of the ingredients. He took his purifiers, readied his station, and dove into the project.

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About a half an hour later, the potions were explosion-free and cooling off. Snape checked the consistencies. His second potion was thicker than his previous experiment, however the color had darkened more than it should have. The third potion seemed to be what they were looking for, but Snape wasn’t going to make any conclusions until they tested its reaction. He walked around the table to check on Potter’s potion.

The young wizard was peering into the cauldron. He had just added the last component and seemed to be following the color change before taking it off to cool. His fingers were tapping the table and he was biting his lip in a nervous gesture. Glancing at the potion, Snape didn’t see any cause for worry, everything looked as he thought it would under those conditions. Not that he was about to let Potter know…

“Did you manage to come remotely close to what we were trying to achieve, Potter?”

Potter nodded absently, “Everything looks okay so far. We’ll be able to check it once it’s cooled.”

Snape scowled, but couldn’t find anything to fault him with. As far as they could tell, everything was fine. They would just have to check them. Just ten more minutes and he would have some results. Despite working with Potter, Snape was pleased at the chance to experiment. With the war, Snape had mostly been making poisons and working with nasty toxins that were more about force than about the art. Going back to experimenting was a rush.

Swooping over to one of the sofas, Snape picked up one of his rare potions texts and started reading. He wanted to see whether or not he could find any anomalies before they tested the potions. If Snape was going to risk tasting even a small amount, he wanted to check on every possibility.

After a few minutes, Snape glanced up to see Potter preparing the sample vials. Continuing his reading, he directed Potter, “Fill the vials with five milliliters of potion each. Leave them open for the tea. Dot!”

Dot popped in next to Snape. “At your service, Master Snape, Master Harry,” she nodded at both of them.

“Weak tea, Dot. One to nine,” Snape requested.

The house elf apparated away and Potter inquired, “One to nine?”

“Ratio of tea to hot water,” Snape replied, still distracted enough with his reading to be civil. “It should be weak enough to mix.”

Potter hummed back, noncommittally, and Snape hurried along with his reading. He hadn’t spotted any adverse properties of mixing purity solvents with the bases, but the seeds could still throw it off if…

“Tea for Master Snape,” Dot popped back in.

“I’ll take it, Dot, thank you,” Potter said.

Dot nearly giggled with pleasure, “Of course. At your service, Master Harry.”

Snape rolled his eyes behind his book. He called out, “Mix the potions with five milliliters each. If they show a reaction, step back from the table.”

“Yes, professor,” he heard. There was a clinking of vials and then a silence. Snape was just about to set aside his potions text when he heard a gasp from Dot.

“Master Harry shouldn’t be doing that!”

Jerking up from his seat, Snape looked up to see Potter chucking back the first of the vials. “Idiot!” Snape swept over to the young wizard and grabbed the vial out of his hand. It was already empty. He glared at the wizard calmly standing in front of him. “What were you thinking? You are hardly in the condition to be testing…”

“This is the best way of knowing how similar the effects are, sir,” Potter interrupted. “I remember how it felt, and if it’s right it should show signs of it in the next ten seconds.”

Snape was about to retort when he saw Potter’s nose begin to bleed. With a curse, Snape shoved Potter over into the nearby sofa and laid his head back. “Hold still, Potter. Dot, some tissues please.”

Wringing her hands, Dot rushed to the bathroom and was back in a moment, handing the tissues to Snape. He pressed them to Potter’s face and scowled. “Well, Potter, considering your sheer stupidity, how did we do?”

Potter’s voice was muffled by the tissues. “Slight dizziness and tingling on the skin. The potion seems close, but the nosebleed is new. No convulsions.”

Snape’s fingers now pressed against his own forehead at the start of a migraine. “You were expecting convulsions, and you drank the potion? Grow some sense, Potter. You only mentioned those as after-effects…”

“It’s no better than if you were to take it, professor,” Potter insisted. “I’m already under its influence, there’s no reason you should be affected too.” Green eyes flashed across his before closing in concentration. Was that… worry, he had seen? Snape shook it off.

“In that case, there are better ways to test the potion,” Snape said coolly. “Had you mentioned immediate adverse effects earlier, I would have arranged for a safer trial.”

The eyes flashed again and brows lifted in surprise. “You can… How…?”

“I’ve created my own methods,” Snape bit out. “Now is there anything more to consider?”

“No, sir.”

Snape tried to gauge the truth of this, but it seemed this new Potter had a mask harder to see through than the angry teen he once knew. He nodded and turned to Dot to make some arrangements. Inwardly scowling, he realized that there was still a large bit of Gryffindor foolhardiness in Potter. Just his luck…

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