A Time And Place To Grow

Chapter 5: You're On Fire

"I'm on fire!" Harry yelled. "Snape, I'm on fire!"

"I can see that, Mr. Potter," Snape nodded thoughtfully, as if he was observing a potion that had gone wrong with no explanation.

"Snape, my whole body's on fire."

"Don't move, Potter. Just stay on the bed. How do you feel?"

"How do I feel?" Harry felt half-crazy as he stared at his teacher with wide eyes. "I'm on fire!"

"If you were really being burned, you would be screaming with pain. You're not, you're just panicking. How do you feel?"

"Uh-uh - hot," Harry stared down at his body

that was engulfed in orange, crackling flames.

"Do you feel like you've touched a hot pot? Or like you've stepped in a hothouse with all the hot air and concentrated heat on your skin? Or like you've been sunburned? Or slept with too many blankets?"

"The sunburn the sunburn thing!" Harry cried - out. "My skin is hot and itches, and it kind of hurts, but not too much, but I'm on fire. I'm on fire!"

"If anyone were to ever receive an award for making the most absurd comments over and over again, it would be you, Potter," Snape sneered. "Just when I think you can't get any stupider, I find a whole new level of idiocy I never knew existed."

Harry glared at him. "I am not stupid. You're stupid."

"What a brilliant comeback," Snape smirked. "I would expect better from a four-year-old."

"You're mean and nasty and cruel and spiteful," Harry shot at him. "No one likes you - no one wants to be around you, ever! And we all hate your clothes and your hair. And - and you're horrible teacher!"

"Hitting me where it hurts - my teaching skills," - Snape mocked at him.

"Yeah," Harry snarled, "I haven't learned a thing from you in five years. All those hours in that rotting dungeon, a waste of time! And when I become king of the Wizarding world or whatever you think I'm trying to be, the first thing that's going is bloody potions! Anyone that tries to teach or make potions gets a one-way ticket to Azkaban!"

Snape looked like he was trying not to smirk which made Harry even angrier.

"Yeah, and you're going to Azkaban as soon as I get off this bed and out of this ruddy house. I won't stop until they lock you away for good, you sodding git!"

"Mr. Potter," Snape's voice was irritatingly quiet,

"you're not on fire anymore."

Harry glanced down. The fire was gone, and he was lying on the bed in his pajamas as if nothing had happened. The room felt eerily quiet after the loud crackling of flames.

"What happened?" Harry asked in a scared, surprised voice.

"Exactly what I thought would happen," Snape said calmly, "or at least one of two things. I knew either you'd burn out the curse from the fireplace or you'd die."

"Those were the options?" Harry yelled.

"You didn't die - you should be grateful. Not to mention thanking me for not letting you burn to death."

Harry gave him a bewildered look.

"The potion, Potter! Really, sometimes I wonder how you manage to survive with such little brainpower. If the Dark Lord knew the idiot he was up against

"So the potion kept me from burning?" Harry interrupted, refusing to be called stupid one more time.

"Actually no, it sped up the burning process. I knew you would catch fire eventually because the Dark Lord did when he came through. However, it took him a full week to ignite, and it was not pleasant waiting in the least. I couldn't imagine dealing with your whining and pleading for that long so I made a potion that would hurry things up while protecting your main organs. So when you caught fire, you'd burn yourself out and not harm yourself. You became more and more tired because the potion was speeding the process along, and your body was trying to keep up."