Magic Never Dies (Harmione)

Chapter 17

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Harry slept fitfully despite his exhaustion. His encounter with Voldemort left him feeling like the subject for a Death Eater training session on casting the Cruciatus; his nervous system thoroughly assaulted and in no hurry to uncoil and act properly again. Hermione's comforting presence lulled him into periods of relative ease only to be broken by a sound he couldn't place or one he regretfully could; Ron's rattling snores.

He awoke at some point to a sense of something out of place and lay still, listening intently to the darkness. He lifted his head to peer at Snape's bed over Hermione, nestled against his side, and saw the sheets turned back, the mattress empty.

Cursing inwardly he sorted his limbs from hers and slid quietly from the bed. He did not have his wand; he hoped that Hermione had thought to bring it from Grimmauld Place but did not want to wake her now. He sensed somehow that he didn't need it quite so much anymore, but it gave him confidence and focused him all the same. He borrowed hers from the nightstand and crept through the darkness, feeling for Snape's trail.

He found it far more easily than he'd counted on. A grim black form stumbled directly into the extended point of the wand and cursed colorfully... and effectively. Something wordless caught Harry and inverted him midair, twisting and flailing.

Ironically enough, he'd chosen the same spell.

"Lumos!"

Harry and Snape surveyed each other, both hanging bat-like a good distance from the floor.

"Where were you?" Harry asked accusingly.

"If you must know, I was using the loo. " Snape snarled, working diligently to keep his robes from billowing down over his head.

Harry had never appreciated his jeans quite so much.

"Exactly what, by the way, did you do with my old potions text - other than use it to learn levicorpus and falsely impress Horace Slughorn?" Snape asked, finally casting a stiffening charm on his robes. They sprung at once up to his ankles.

Of course, thought Harry grumpily, He probably sleeps like this all the time, the great sucking vampire bat.

"It's in the Room of Requirement. I honestly didn't know it was yours until you said. I should have, though. You always told me I thought rules were for other people. You weren't exactly by the book yourself, you know. You practically rewrote the whole bloody thing as a matter of fact," Harry said. "Are you going to let me down now?"

"You first, Mr. Potter. When I am safely on my feet, you shall be as well. Drop me, and down on your head you go."

Harry sighed and cast Wingardium Leviosa first, then ended the Levicorpus spell, gently righting Snape and floating him down on his feet.

Snape simply ended his spell and allowed Harry to drop. Only by some last minute cat-like twisting did he manage to land on his bum instead of his head. He glared daggers up from the floor.

"Slytherins seldom keep their word. It is a matter of honor. Always remember that. Voldemort was a Slytherin, you know," Snape told him, and made his way with great dignity back to his bed.

Harry crawled to his feet, feeling oh-so-in-touch with his Slytherin side.

Damn it. Now he needed the loo as well.