Truth

Title: Truth
Author: thisveryinstant (thisveryinstant @ yahoo.com)
Rating: NC-17
Category: Drama/angst.
Warnings: This is full of OotP spoilers. And Harry is slightly underage (16).
Disclaimer: They belong to Rowling, not to me--I\'m only taking them out to play. Please don\'t sue!

Summary: Harry\'s 6th year potions class brews a weak truth serum. Harry gets high. Snape loses it. Mayhem ensues.

Author\'s Notes: Thanks to fabulous beta Dementordelta for catching my goofy mistakes and making this a much more powerful piece of writing. All remaining mistakes are my own. Thanks to Fabularasa for \"semiveritaserum.\"

1.


Severus Snape swept to the front of the room and pivoted neatly on his heels to face the sixth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. His smile was particularly smug. Harry\'s heart sank further, if that was possible. Snape wasn\'t--he couldn\'t--could he?

\"We will need a test subject,\" Snape said slowly, as if savoring the taste and texture of each word.

Apparently, he could.

The Potions master\'s eyes moved lazily around the room. The entire class stared down at their shoes.

Harry had been dreading this since the first day of the semester, when he saw \"Truth Serums: Practical\" on the NEWT Potions syllabus. He had hoped that the sinking feeling in his gut was wrong, that there was a limit to what Snape could do to students.

Yeah, right.

\"Potter.\" Snape\'s black eyes glittered as they settled on Harry, and a feral grin spread across the sallow face. \"Come up to the front of the classroom.\"

A horrible, wrenching inside-out feeling in his gut, like the pull of a port-key. What he would give for a port-key right now!

He glanced at his friends. Ron looked stricken. Hermione looked livid. Parvati was staring fixedly at a spot on her desk. Harry met Seamus\' eyes, and Seamus shrugged.

\"Now, Potter!\"

Harry imagined staying in his seat, refusing to move. Or leaving the classroom and going straight to the headmaster! Better yet, whipping out his wand and casting the Cruciatus curse on Snape, watching that grin split into a howl as Snape twisted and writhed on the dungeon floor--

\"Potter!\"

Harry raised his eyes to meet Snape\'s, and glared. He did not blink.

I am not afraid of you, he thought. He stood up slowly, without breaking eye contact, and marched toward the front of the classroom.

Snape was leaning forward against his desk, his long fingers spread on the glossy surface, his back eyes glittering into Harry\'s from behind a veil of greasy hair.

I am not afraid of you, Harry thought fiercely. He moved toward the front of the room, cutting through the tense air with long strides, and stopped in front of the Potions master\'s desk. Snape gestured to a chair facing the class, and Harry sat in it, glaring stubbornly at the wall behind his classmates\' heads.

\"Ms. Granger, bring a sample of your potion to Mr. Potter.\"

\"But--\" Hermione\'s voice.

\"Two points from Gryffindor,\" Snape cut her off smoothly.

He heard Hermione walking toward the front of the classroom. Drop the vial, he entreated silently, Just let it fall, let it smash. Hermione pressed the vial into his hand, murmuring apologetically. He refused to look at her.

\"Well, Potter, drink up, we haven\'t got all day!\"

Harry turned slowly to glare at Snape.

I will get you for this, he thought, wishing he could burn a hole through the other man\'s head with his eyes. Snape smirked and cocked one eyebrow. Harry could hear whispers from both sides of the room, and Draco Malfoy\'s unmistakable chuckle.

He uncorked Hermione\'s potion and drank it down.

2.

Severus nodded subtly to Draco Malfoy, who was smiling hopefully, light leaping in his silver eyes. Be patient, boy, you\'ll get your chance.

Brandishing his wand, he turned on Potter, smiling inwardly as the Gryffindors cringed.

\"Lumos,\" he said. He held the light up to Potter\'s eyes, nodding when the unnaturally large pupils contracted sharply. Potter was staring straight ahead, his jaw oddly slack, a bit of saliva collecting in the corner of his mouth.

Pansy Parkinson squealed and whispered something about \"...actually drooling!\" to her neighbor, and Severus\' mouth quirked into a smile. If Lucius got his way, and the match went through, Draco was certainly going to have his hands full. He wondered if Draco knew that in a few years he would be expected to marry that shrill little cow.

And then his smile faltered. Lucius was a fugitive, and in no position to arrange his son\'s marriage. And Draco...

His eyes closed. Draco\'s future did not look promising...

He snapped his eyes open and suppressed his thoughts savagely. He had no business thinking of--these things. Not now.

Besides, this was a great day. Here was the \"Boy Who Lived,\" sitting slack- jawed, empty-eyed, and helpless in front of the class. Finally, after what, almost six years of searing frustration, he had the arrogant child exactly where he wanted him.

He stayed with Potter a moment longer, making sure that the potion was affecting the boy normally, and taking advantage of the opportunity to stare at him with impunity. There was something fascinating about the human face under a truth serum, completely out of its owners\' conscious control, soft and unguarded as in sleep. Oh, it would kill Potter to be seen like this. Severus smiled.

Potter\'s skin was breaking out in a light sheen of sweat, which was to be expected; copious sweating was a normal side effect of the potion. The boy was finally beginning to look his age this year: his jaw had begun to take on the square contours of a man\'s face, though it still had a certain softness of youth, and his chin showed an almost imperceptible shadow of stubble. The scar on his forehead was clear, vivid pink, slightly raised and shiny, peaking through tufts of messy black hair. His eyes were enormous black mirrors ringed in green under heavy lashes.

Very much like his mother\'s eyes. Lily Evans\' eyes, peering out of his James Potter\'s face. It was unsettling. But this was unmistakably James Potter\'s son.

He stood abruptly and turned on the Gryffindor side of cla classroom.

\"You will not speak,\" he enunciated carefully, his eyes moving from Gryffindor to terrified Gryffindor, \"unless you are called upon.\" He gave the warning a moment to sink in. He turned back to Potter.

\"What is your name?\" he asked.

\"Harry James Potter,\" Potter replied in a curiously flat voice.

\"Harry James Potter,\" Draco mimicked, and the Slytherins snickered. Severus ignored them.

\"When were you born?\"

\"July 31st, 1980.\" Sweat had begun to bead on Potter\'s brow.

\"Good,\" Severus turned back to the class, trying not to grin too maniacally as his eyes met Malfoy\'s. \"Mr. Malfoy, would you care to test the efficacy of Ms. Granger\'s potion?\"

The Gryffindor side of the room erupted.

\"10 points from Gryffindor!\" Severus raised his voice over the din, and narrowed his eyes dangerously.

Draco smirked, tossing the hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head. Draco\'s hair had really gotten quite long over the summer. He was looking more like his father every day.

\"Right, Potter,\" Draco paused theatrically. He\'d always had a dramatic streak, another trait that came straight from Lucius. Severus gave a snort that was halfway between annoyance and admiration.

\"So,\" Draco continued casually, \"are you shagging Granger?\"

Harry\'s quiet reply was drowned out by a roar of outraged Gryffindors. It took 40 points from Gryffindor and a full-fledged Slytherin Death Glare to calm them down. Severus was enjoying himself immensely. He briefly reminded Draco to watch his language, and then turned back to the Potter boy.

\"Go on, Potter,\" Severus prompted, steepling his fingers.

\"Hermione\'s not shagging anyone,\" Potter replied in that dull monotone.

Granger bit her lip and closed her eyes, looking close to tears. The Slytherins burst into peels of laughter, and the Weasley boy actually started to charge at Draco (a very satisfying 30 points from Gryffindor) before Granger recovered and dragged him back to his seat.

Draco was about to speak again, but Potter beat him to it.

\"Hey Malfoy,\" Potter slumped forward in his chair, his monotone slightly slurred, and underscored by honest curiosity, \"are you shagging Parkinson? Because we all wondered--\"

Pansy Parkinson squeaked, and Potter\'s voice was drowned out by outraged Slytherin shouts and hearty Gryffindor applause. Severus shot a penetrating glance at the Potter boy, who seemed unaware of the disorder he had caused. The boy\'s pupils were still dilated and he was still perspiring.

\"That will be all,\" Severus silenced the room with a glare. \"Mr. Potter, we are here to observe the effects of Semiveritaserum, not to satisfy your prurient curiosity. 10 points from Gryffindor.\" He paused. The students knew better than to object. \"And five points for language. Mr. Malfoy, please continue.\"

In the next ten minutes, the class was privy to Potter\'s potions score (barely passing), a frank (and highly unflattering) assessment of Weasley\'s quidditch skills, and Potter\'s preferred brand of underpants. The Gryffindors had never looked so relieved to hear bellbell ring. All in all, the class had been a triumph.

\"Go on,\" Snape snapped at the last students lingering in the doorway, \"Potter will need to take an antidote to neutralize the potion. Not,\" he glanced derisively Potter\'s blank expression, \"that anyone would be able to tell the difference if he didn\'t. Go!\"

They left, hesitantly. He closed the door behind them.

Severus meant to give Potter the antidote immediately. Really, he meant to. He had it in his hand, and he was unstoppering it as he approached the boy.

But then he stopped short.

What if he did keep the boy under truth serum for a few more minutes? Didn\'t Potter deserve it, after all the brazen rule-breaking and the flagrant contempt for his authority? And didn\'t Severus deserve a chance to make Potter answer for his behavior?

And, if he was being honest with himself, wasn\'t this what he\ealleally had in mind when he added Semiveritaserum to the NEWT syllabus this year, after Albus insisted that he accept Potter despite the boy\'s obvious incompetence? He and Potter, alone in a classroom, and finally--finally!--Potter wouldn\'t have anyone to hide behind.

He wet his lips, set the antidote deliberately on his desk, and cast a locking charm on the door. Then he held his wand up to Potter\'s face to check the boy\'s pupils. They contracted sharply at his Lumos spell.

Severus smiled grimly. He summoned a chair with a flick of his wand and set it across from Potter. He sat.

\"Well, Potter.\"

Potter made no response. His eyes remained unnaturally dilated. His hair was plastered to his forhead, hiding the scar altogether, and drops of perspiration dripped steadily from his chin, forming a growing wet patch on the front of his robes.

Severus held his hands still with some effort He fought an uncharacteristic urge to wring them, clutch at the fabric of his robes, do something to relieve the tense excitement prickling through his body like a solid dose of his own, fortified pepper-up potion.

\"Unlike Veritaserum, Semiveritaserum is not controlled by the Ministry,\" Severus explained. He was Potter\'s professor, after all. The boy might as well know what was happening to him. \"Veritaserum completely bypasses the mind, forging a direct link between memory and speech. Semiveritaserum disconnects the mind from the emotions. Under Semiveritaserum,\" he grinned, \"you will see no reason not to lie to me.\"

He considered what to ask the boy about first. There were so many choices! The midnight excursions under the invisibility cloak--the unauthorized Hogsmeade visits during Potter\'s third year--the gillyweed and boomslang skin that went missing from his office during the Triwizard Tournament--and Black--what really happened on the night Black escaped? Even now, with Black dead, the thought still made his throat close with rage. He would make Potter admit to everything: the obscene craving for attention, the pranks, the rule-breaking--everything.

But when he opened his mouth to begin, something entirely different came out.

\"I suppose you\'re pleased with your precious father and his friends now--\" Severus heard himself say.

He was so surprised that he stopped, mid-sentence, his mouth hanging gracelessly open.

Why had he said that?

But even as he asked, he knew the answer. Last year. The Occlumency lessons. What Potter had seen in the Pensieve.

Severus closed his mouth with an audible snap, then opened it again to curse loudly. Was there no limit to his capacity for self-delusion? He rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, an old nervous gesture, inhaling the sharp traces of potion ingredients that had collected on his hands. He recognized scarab powder, concentrated extract of feverfew, the copper smell of spotted toad skin, powdered drags bls blood- -

\"No.\"

Severus looked up, eyes narrowing sharply.

\"I\'m not pleased,\" Potter continued expressionlessly.

And something inside Severus Snape snapped.

3.

\"I suppose you\'re pleased with your precious father and his friends now--\" Snape seemed to choke on the end of the sentence. His eyes widened and then slid shut. He raised a hand to his face and massaged the bridge of his nose.

It took Harry a moment to answer. He could feel sweat running into his eyebrows, following the grain of the hair and flowing down his temples. Snape looked strange, kind of taut and brittle. He found himself wishing that he could see the man\'s eyes.

Finally, he heard himself speak:

\"No.\"

Snape\'s head snapped up, eyes narrowing viciously, and Harry was compelled to clarify his answer.

\"No,\" he said, \"I\'m not pleased.\"

Snape\'s face seemed to explode. The dark eyes flashed and widened unbelievably and he lunged at Harry with a growl, lips pulled back from narrow, yellowing teeth. One hand tangled in the damp front of Harry\'s robes, twisted the fabric, jerked him forward, threw him back, and then jerked him forward again.

Harry flopped passively; the movement of his body didn\'t interest him. However, he watched Snape\'s eyes with great interest. There seemed to be a war going on behind those eyes: he could see flashes like gunfire, flaring like cannons and explosions like sheet lightning blazing in their depths. If he could just peer deep enough, far enough, perhaps he could make out--

\"Don\'t contradict me!\" Snape was shouting, lifting Harry bodily off the chair, his breath hot on Harry\'s face.

\"Yes, sir,\" Harry said serenely, since Snape seemed to expect an answer. He was still squinting at the Potion master\'s eyes, sure that if he could only look a bit closer--

Snape dropped Harry and turned away in one smooth motion. Harry, breathing deeply, slid onto the stone floor in front of his chair. The surface felt wonderfully cool, even through his robes. He pitched his weight sideways until he fell, and curled in a gentle crescent shape with his cheek against the stone. Grit from the floor stuck to his cheek, cooling his skin.

He watched Snape\'s shoes hit the floor with swift precision, pacing in and out of hieldield of vision. He could hear the sneer in Snape\'s next intake of breath.

\"Your father,\" Snape snarled, \"was an arrogant bastard!\" He stopped pacing just outside of Harry\'s sight, and waited for a moment. \"Wasn\'t he?!\" his voice rose alarmingly.

But Harry wasn\'t alarmed. The dark anticipation in Snape\'s voice didn\'t bother him. Snape\'s emotions rolled over him like waves breaking against a rock in a storm.

\"He was horrible in your memory,\" Harry replied matter-of-factly. And his heart didn\'t squeeze painfully the way it usually did when he remembered the casual cruelty with which young James Potter tormented young Severus Snape. Perhaps because what he said was true, and truth in any form was solid, comforting.

Snape stopped short again.

\"And Sirius Black!\" his voice rose sharply in volume and pitch. Harry could hear his mouth contorting harshly around the name, reducing the words to sharp vowels and hard consonants. And for the first time since the battle in the Department of Mysteries Harry heard Sirius\' name without feeling like he would never breathe again. Sirius was dead, that was true. When he was alive, Sirius had been a friend to Harry, and a friend to Harry\'s father. \"Can you defend Sirius Black?\"

\"They were naive,\" Harry heard himself answering, \"and cruel. But that\'s-- \" He paused, and started again. \"There are wizards who think they don\'t have to be decent to muggles and muggle-borns because of what they are. And they\'re wrong. But...those wizards can be decent and good to other wizards. My father and Sirius thought they didn\'t have to be decent to you because...well, because of something. And they were wrong. But...they were decent and good to me. People can be both.\"

There. He\'d said it perfectly. He could feel the words shining before him, dazzling and perfect, precisely matching a bit of reality. The truth carried a wonderful feeling of lightness. His father and Sirius--they were horrible to Snape, and they were wrong, but they were still everything they\'d ever been to him. And it was okay. He felt as though a great tension in his chest had loosened, and he smiled a lazy, thick-lipped smile, clumsily licking the salt off his lips.

The next thing he knew he was being hauled, bodily, to his feet, Snape\'s pale hands tangled in the dark fabric of his robes, the whites of his eyes spidered with livid red. His voice dripped with sarcasm, and something else, something deeper and a little hollow.

\"So they were out of line, your father and his friends, were they, Potter? Perhaps they should have left the greasy Slytherin alone?\" He dropped Harry unceremoniously into the chair. \"Perhaps you should have been sorted into Hufflepuff, for you fair-mindedness and equanimity.\" He leaned closer to Harry\'s face, speaking in a harsh, frenzied whisper. \"And I\'m sure that you would never behave in such a manner, would you, Potter, you and your Gryffindor friends; you wouldn\'t take pleasure in humiliating Malfoy if he was weak enough--\" and Snape\'s voice broke a little on \"weak,\" squeaked like an adolescent\'s--\"to be a suitable target.\"

Draco. Suddenly it seemed to Harry that the incident with Malfoy The Amazing Bouncing Ferret might have been something other than funny.

Harry nodded slowly. He heard himself speaking.

\"You\'re right,\" he said, \"we see Malfoy...the way my father and Sirius...saw you. But we would never have attacked Draco like that, unprovoked, and I wouldn\'t do-that-to him. To anyone. And neither would Hermione.\" He paused. \"You\'re the one who\'s out of line.\"

\"Shut up, Potter.\" Snape\'s eyes boring into Harry\'s with a familiar, aggressive hardness that Harry now recognize as subtle Legilimency. But in this state Harry seemed immune to its effect.

He had the feeling that he wasn\'t talking to this enraged, malevolent Snape at all, that there was a desperately hurt Snape behind the angry, malicious exterior, and that Snape needed to hear what he to to say.

\"You...wouldn\'t?\" Snape\'s voice was low and dangerous. \"The great Harry Potter is above such...diversions?\"

\"I hope I wouldn\'t. Because I know what it feels like to be...humiliated, and...\" Harry trailed off.

Snape did not move.

\"I\'m sorry that my dad was horrible to you at school,\" Harry said.

Snape seemed to collapse in on himself. He turned away from Harry, his profile dominated by the hard angles and an oversized, crooked nose. His expression was unreadable.

\"Stupid boy,\" he whispered. He looked at Harry once again, swallowed painfully, and then turned abruptly away.

4.

Severus tamped down his emotions down firmly, keeping his mind as coldly logical as he could, under the circumstances.

What was it about the Potter boy that wrecked havoc with his equilibrium? He was a spy, a double agent, reporting two powerful wizards who did not have his interests at heart, who were entirely capable of breaking into most peoples\' minds. Controlling himself was Snape\'s specialty. It had kept him alive.

But that when he saw Potter he was suddenly 15 years old again, helpless fury tearing him up inside like a thousand flying razors, thinking that he was going to die at any moment because a human being couldn\'t be so full of rage and live.

He looked back at Potter. The boy was slumped halfway out of his chair, his face smeared with mud, his eyes huge and luminous. He looked very young, and at that moment, he looked nothing at all like James Potter. He was just a 16-year-old schoolboy drugged to the eyes, with no idea where he was or what he\'d been saying.

Snape sighed and fetched the antidote. He pulled his chair next to Potter\'s, and steadied the boy on his chair with surprising gentleness. He held the back of Potter\'s head with one hand (Potter\'s hair warm and slippery under his fingers, soaked through), unstoppered the antidote with his teeth, and held it too Potter\'s lips. Potter closed his eyes to drink, his lashes strikingly dark against his pale cheeks, glistening droplets of sweat suspended between them. He tilted his head back, exposing a pale length of throat, his Adam\'s apple bobbing delicately as he drank.

There was a strange intimacy to the moment, and Severus was surprised to feel a pang of something like regret when Potter stiffened and flinched away from his hand.

Severus felt his eyes narrow and his mouth twist into familiar menacing, mocking lines. Potter jerked upright and turned to stare at him, wide-eyed, blinking.

\"Get out, Potter,\" he sneered, \"and for Merlin\'s sake, take a shower.\" He leaned against his desk to scratch out a terse excuse and thrust it into Potter\'s hand.

Then he rose with as muigniignity as he could muster and stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him.